The Arts of Kingship: Hawaiian Art and National Culture of the Kalakaua Era

HAWAIIAN HISTORY / ART

Stacy L. Kamehiro is associate professor in the History of Art and Visual Culture Department at the University of California, Santa Cruz.

CO V E R A RT:

C O V E R D E S I G N:

Julie Matsuo-Chun

THE ARTS OF KINGSHIP HAWAIIAN ART AND NATIONAL CULTURE ¯ K AU A E RA OF T H E K AL A

KA M E HI RO

“Display of Courage,” bronze relief panel on the base of the Kamehameha Monument. Photograph by Jill Cannon, 2006. Courtesy of the photographer.

offers a sustained and detailed account of Hawaiian public art and architecture during the reign of David Kalākaua, the nativist and cosmopolitan ruler of the Hawaiian Kingdom from 1874 to 1891. Stacy Kamehiro provides visual and historical analysis of Kalākaua’s coronation and regalia, the King Kamehameha Statue, ‘Iolani Palace, and the Hawaiian National Museum, drawing them together in a common historical, political, and cultural frame. Each articulated Hawaiian national identities and navigated the turbulence of colonialism in distinctive ways and has endured as a key cultural symbol. These cultural projects were part of the monarchy’s concerted effort to promote a national culture in the face of colonial pressures, internal political divisions, and declining social conditions for Native Hawaiians, which, in combination, posed serious threats to the survival of the nation. The Kalākaua leadership endorsed images that boosted international relations and appeased foreign agitators in the kingdom while addressing indigenous political cleavages. Kamehiro interprets the images, spaces, and institutions as articulations of the complex cultural entanglements and creative engagement with international communities that occur with prolonged colonial contact. Nineteenth-century Hawaiian sovereigns celebrated Native tradition, history, and modernity by intertwining indigenous conceptions of superior chiefly leadership with the apparati and symbols of Asian, American, and European rule. The resulting symbolic forms speak to cultural intersections and historical processes, claims about distinctiveness and commonality, and the power of objects, institutions, and public display to create meaning and enable action. The Arts of Kingship pursues questions regarding the nature of cultural exchange, how precolonial visual culture engaged and shaped colonial contexts, and how colonial art informs postcolonial visualities and identities. It will be welcomed by readers with a general and scholarly interest in Hawaiian history and art. As it contributes to discussions about colonial cultures, nationalism, and globalization, this interdisciplinary work will appeal to art and architectural historians as well as those studying Pacific history, cultural and museum studies, and anthropology.

THE ARTS OF KINGSHIP

The Arts of Kingship

ISBN 978-0-8248-3358-9

UNIVERSITY of HAWAI‘I PRESS

Honolulu, Hawai‘i 96822-1888

90000

9 780824 833589 www.uhpress.hawaii.edu

S T ACY L . K AME H I RO

The Arts of Kingship

The Arts of Kingship Hawaiian Art and National Culture of the Kalākaua Era

Stacy L. Kamehiro

University of Hawai‘i Press Honolulu

© 2009 University of Hawai‘i Press All rights reserved Printed in the United States of America 14╇ 13╇ 12╇ 11╇ 10╇ 09â•…â•…â•… 6╇ 5╇ 4╇ 3╇ 2╇ 1

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Kamehiro, Stacy L. The arts of kingship : Hawaiian art and national culture of the Kalākaua era / Stacy L. Kamehiro.

p. cm.

Includes bibliographical references and index. ISBN 978-0-8248-3263-6 (hardcover : alk. paper) — ISBN 978-0-8248-3358-9 (pbk. : alk. paper) 1.€ Nationalism and art—Hawaii—History—19th century. 2.€ Hawaiian art—19th century. 3.€ Art and society—Hawaii—History—19th century. 4.€ Kalakaua, David, King of Hawaii, 1836–1891—Art patronage.€ I. Title. II. Title: Hawaiian art and national culture of the Kalakaua era. N72.N38K36 2009 700.1'030996909034—dc22

2009014397

University of Hawai‘i Press books are printed on acid-free paper and meet the guidelines for permanence and durability of the Council on Library Resources. Designed by University of Hawai‘i Press production department Printed by Sheridan Books, Inc.

For Bob, Kai, and Maia Dedicated to the memory of Jehanne Teilhet-Fisk

Contents



List of Illustrations

ix



Acknowledgments

xi



Introduction: Hawaiian National Art

1

Chapter 1 The Art of Kingship: Kalākaua’s Coronation

26

Chapter 2 Palaces and Sacred Spaces: ‘Iolani Palace

55

Chapter 3 Memorializing the Monarchy: The King Kamehameha Monument

77

Chapter 4 (Re)Collecting History: The Hawaiian National Museum

97

Chapter 5 The Artistic Legacy of the Kalākaua Era

127



Catalogue of the Hawaiian National Museum and Library

139



Appendix: Historical Figures

185



Notes

189



Glossary

225



References

227



Index

257



(Color plates follow page 100)

Illustrations

Plates (see insert following page 100) 1. Portrait of King Kalākaua by William Cogswell, 1891. 2. Hawaiian Coat of Arms, ca. 1882. 3. ‘Ahu‘ula (feather cloak) of Kamehameha I. 4. Kalākaua’s Ring of State. 5. Kalākaua’s Crown (the Crown of Hawai‘i). 6. Badges of the Royal Order of Kalākaua and Royal Order of Kapi‘olani. 7. Grand Hall, ‘Iolani Palace. 8. “Display of Courage,” relief panel on the base of the Kamehameha Statue. 9. The Royal Feather Cordon of King Liloa of Hawaii. Painting by Ella Smith Corwine, ca. 1890. 10. Kamehameha Statue, rear view. 11. Kamehameha Statue, side view. 12. “Aboard the H.M.S. Resolution,” relief panel from the base of the Kamehameha Statue. 13. “Ka‘au Wa‘a Peleleu,” relief panel from the base of the Kamehameha Statue. 14. “Law of the Splintered Paddle,” relief panel from the base of the Kamehameha Statue. 15. Kamehameha Statue adorned in lei for King Kamehameha Day. 16. ‘Iolani Palace draped in black bunting, 1993.

Figures 1. 2. 3. 4. 5.

Kōkō (netting), Hale Nauā Society. Kapa (bark cloth), Hale Nauā Society. “The Coronation of King Kalakaua at Honolulu, Sandwich Islands,” the Graphic, 28 April 1883. “Keli‘iponi Hale,” the coronation pavilion, 1883. Coronation pūlo‘ulo‘u displayed at Kalākaua’s Jubilee, 1886.

21 22 32 33 37

ix

˘

Illustrations

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.

Niho palaoa made of elephant ivory. Kalākaua’s Sword of State. Kalākaua’s Scepter. Kalākaua’s Scepter, detail. Kalākaua, Knight Templar. Kalākaua’s self-crowning. ‘Iolani Palace. ‘Iolani Palace ground plan reconstruction. Foreign orders on display in the Throne Room. Kamakahonu, the chiefly compound (kauhale) of Kamehameha I. ‘Iolani Palace, aerial view, mid-1880s. Lamps at the entrances to the palace. Detail of lamppost, ‘Iolani Palace. Hale ‘Ākala. Map of Honolulu. Site of the first Royal Mausoleum and Crypt, ‘Iolani Palace grounds. Kauikeaouli Gate, ‘Iolani Palace. Arched vestibule and entrance of ‘Iolani Palace. Etched sheet-crystal entrance to ‘Iolani Palace. The King Kamehameha Statue in front of Ali‘iōlani Hale. Roman emperor Augustus Caesar. The Kamehameha Statue. Robert Hoapili Baker modeling for the Kamehameha Statue. Kā‘ai (feather sash) of Līloa. Feather sash of Līloa displayed at ‘Iolani Palace, ca. 1886. Ali‘iōlani Hale (Judiciary Building), ca. 1880. “Hawaiian Exhibits” at the Exhibition of Women’s Industries and Centenary Fair, Sydney, 1888. Hawaiian Exhibit, Exposition Universelle, Paris, 1889. Ipu pāwehe (decorated gourd bowl). Log of Manokalanipo. Manaiakalani, “Hook from the Heavens.” Naniuaola, pahu heiau (temple drum) displayed with other Native Hawaiian drums. Naniuaola, detail. The Kihapu, a conch trumpet. Ipu ‘aina (refuse bowl) belonging to Kamehameha I. The mahiole (crested feather helmet) of Kaumuali‘i. Image of Kamehameha Monument on a United States postage stamp, 1937. Finalist designs for the Hawai‘i State Quarter, 2006. ‘Iolani Palace decorated for Kalākaua’s Jubilee celebration, 1886.

40 48 49 49 53 54 57 57 59 62 63 64 64 65 67 70 71 72 74 78 81 83 87 89 91 103 108 109 111 113 114 115 116 120 122 123 131 132 133

Acknowledgments

Many wonderful people contributed to all stages of the research, writing, and publication of this book. I am deeply indebted to previous work published on early modern Native Hawaiian art. In particular, scholars such as Jacob Adler, John Charlot, Adrienne Kaeppler, and Roger Rose produced careful and compelling research that inspired me to contribute to this inquiry. My own work on this project began as an art history graduate student at the University of California, Los Angeles, where I received generous feedback and support from my advisers, Cecelia Klein, Cécile Whiting, Alessandro Duranti, Tim Earle, and Al Boime. I am forever grateful for their attentiveness in providing intellectual and professional guidance. At the J. Paul Getty Center for History of Art and Humanities, I had the great fortune of serving as research assistant to Carlo Severi, Susanne Küchler, and Valerio Valeri. I express my thanks to these scholars of Oceanic anthropology and visual culture for their kindness in inviting me to share my work with them and for their helpful suggestions. The memory of Dr. Valeri’s friendly encouragement will always remain with me. The research librarians and staff at the Bernice Pauahi Bishop Museum Library, Archives, and Cultural Collections, Hawaiian Historical Society, Hawaiian Mission Children’s Society Library, Hawai‘i State Archives, Hawai‘i State Library, UC Los Angeles Library, UC Santa Cruz Library, UH Mānoa Library, and UH Kaua‘i Community College Library lent their expertise and assistance in identifying and making accessible valuable documents, images, and objects. I am particularly grateful to DeSoto Brown, Leah Pualaha‘ole Caldeira, Dave Del Rocco, Maile Drake, Barbara Dunn, Deanne DuPont, Betty Lou Kam, Judith Kearney, Charley Myers, Victoria Nihi, Kim Okahara, Marilyn Reppun, Ron Schaeffer, Karen Sinn, and Gina Vergara-Bautista. I’d also like to convey my gratitude to colleagues who read chapter drafts or who provided support in other very vital ways. Mahalo nui loa to Ping-Ann Addo, John Brownfield, Elisabeth Cameron, Sheila Crane, Carolyn Dean, Virginia Jansen, Wendy Katz, L. S. Kim, Caroline Klarr, Allan Langdale, Jackie Lewis-Harris, Joanna Roche, Karen Stevenson, Rob Wilson, and Alice Yang. Diligent research assistants played an important role in combing through documents, finding aids, and databases, as well as taking photographs and helping with manuscript preparation. I thank Maymanah Farhat,

xi

xii

Acknowledgments

Dana Hehl, Jeanelle Hernandez, Malia Johnson, Molly McDonald, and Viola Or for their meticulous work and dedication. I am very appreciative of Masako Ikeda’s cheerful guidance in preparing this work for publication at the University of Hawai‘i Press as well as the professional editing work of Lee S. Motteler, Stuart Robson, and Ann Ludeman. I offer my thanks to Kathy Barber for her adept indexing assistance. Institutional support has been essential to conducting research and writing. This work was supported by faculty research funds awarded by the Committee on Research from the University of California, Santa Cruz; grants from the Arts Research Institute at the University of California, Santa Cruz; research fellowships awarded by Porter College at the University of California, Santa Cruz; travel funding from the Friends of Art History and Graduate Division at the University of California, Los Angeles; Edward Dickson Fellowships administered by the Art History Department at the University of California, Los Angeles; and a Ralph C. Altman Award granted by the Fowler Museum of Cultural History at the University of California, Los Angeles. Finally, I want to extend special thanks to my very large family and caring friends whose warm presence and love have been constant. Above all, this work could not have been undertaken without the faith, patience, and partnership of Bob Stockwell.



I ntroduction



Hawaiian National Art

Kalakaua and his period have served as the necessary link joining the past—the long history of Oceania and its endless legends, the centuries of Polynesian slumber—to an ultra-modern present. It was he who above all first envisioned the Hawaii of today with its exigent demands, its swift changes in ideas. . . . During Kalakaua’s reign modernity has been superimposed upon Hawaiian tradition but without destroying it, so that a curious combination of [foreign1] and Polynesian elements has been effected. The sovereign himself has been the most perfect model of his period: the dual character, the grafted tree in bud before it first bears fruit.2

In 1874, David Kalākaua (Plate 1) was elected seventh monarch of the Kingdom of Hawai‘i, founding the Kalākaua (Keawe-a-Heulu) Dynasty. Born David La‘amea Kamanakapu‘u Mahinulani Nalōia‘ehuokalani Lumialani Kalākaua in 1836, he matured as an intellectual, musician, art patron, and politician in the latter half of the nineteenth century. Described by Mark Twain as “an accomplished English scholar,”3 he received a New England–styled education at the American missionary–run Chiefs’ Children’s School in Honolulu, was trained in law, and enjoyed artistic and scientific pursuits throughout his life. His political career began during his teens when he served as aide to a former king and member of the Privy Council, and continued in the 1860s as postmaster general, royal chamberlain, leader of a political and military organization called the Young Hawaiians, and, from 1864 to 1873, a noble in the Legislative Assembly. Kalākaua was eligible to be elected mō‘ī (king) through his rank as an ali‘i nui (high chief). His ancestors had served Kamehameha I (ca. 1758–1819), the first ruler of the unified Hawaiian archipelago, who, in essence, established the Kingdom of Hawai‘i. Kalākaua assumed leadership of a nation burdened with many difficulties caused by foreign settlement—a declining and increasingly landless Native Hawaiian population, division among the Native elite, and threats of colonization—and vigorously worked to preserve his nation’s sovereignty. While his reign of seventeen years was not the longest in early modern Hawaiian history, it witnessed an explosion of creative activity centered in the kingdom’s capital, Honolulu. This king sought to instill a sense of cultural and national

˘

˘

Introduction

pride among Native Hawaiians, notably through literature and the visual and performing arts. In fact, his reign has been described as “The First Hawaiian Renaissance.”4 Some of the cultural and national projects associated with his reign—such as ‘Iolani Palace, the King Kamehameha Monument, the Hawaiian National Anthem, and the reinstitutionalization of public hula performances—have had lasting impact on Hawaiian communities and are today cherished symbols of Hawaiian culture and history. The Merrie Monarch Festival, for example, an annual hula competition begun in 1964 and named for Kalākaua, who was instrumental in reviving and preserving Native Hawaiian dance and chant, is a source of cultural pride and accomplishment. The Kamehameha Day Festival, centered on the monument to Kamehameha I commissioned by Kalākaua, also brings Kalākaua’s art patronage to bear on the present, as it remains a state holiday and major cultural event. To describe the historical contributions to art that were made during the Kalākaua administration, this book analyzes four public manifestations of national culture produced during his reign: Kalākaua’s coronation regalia, ‘Iolani Palace, the King Kamehameha Monument, and the Hawaiian National Museum. The king and his advisers devised an array of royal regalia consisting of innovative and ancient forms and displayed them in grand form during his coronation ceremony in 1883 to an audience of Native Hawaiians, the local haole (white, or non-Native) elite, and international consuls; together, these insignia of Kalākaua’s chiefly and royal office expressed the legitimacy of his station and the excellence of his rulership. ‘Iolani Palace, completed in time to provide the stage for Kalākaua’s coronation and ensuing festivities, was designed and spatially situated to mark the modernity of the kingdom and demonstrate the sanctity of the king’s rule. Associating his reign with that of the first monarch of Hawai‘i, Kalākaua’s patronage of the bronze monument to Kamehameha the Conqueror emphasized his continuation of the nation’s distinguished tradition of wise and farsighted leadership. The Hawaiian National Museum, while modeled on ethnological and natural history collections, materialized historical and scientific claims to a long tradition of national achievement and progress. These cases are of particular interest because each articulated Hawaiian national identities and navigated the turbulence of colonialism in distinctive ways, and, in some form, they have endured as key cultural symbols for well over a century. The visual examples explored in this study were produced during the mid-1870s to mid-1880s, the height of Kalākaua’s reign, and were products of the monarchy’s conscious, concerted efforts to promote a national culture in the face of colonial pressures, internal political divisions, and declining social conditions for Native Hawaiians, which in combination posed serious threats to the sovereignty and survival of the Hawaiian nation. During this period, formal colonizing efforts in the Pacific Basin intensified. Previously, the major colonial powers in the region—France, England, and the United States—had maintained an informal presence.5 The impetus to firmly establish colonial holdings escalated when Germany entered the region as a colonial power in the 1880s, causing other nations to make definitive territorial claims.6 England and France annexed Pacific Island states such as Fiji and Tahiti, respectively, and the autonomy of others such



Hawaiian National Art ˘

as Samoa, the Solomon Islands, and Tonga was severely compromised. These colonizing efforts, combined with the race to secure trade passages to markets in East Asia, added fuel to pro-annexation opinions in the United States and among non-Native settlers in Hawai‘i supporting American allegiances. These political pressures clearly alarmed the Hawaiian rulership, which responded to growing threats to sovereignty in part by promoting a national culture that boosted positive international relations and appeased foreign agitators in the kingdom. At the same time, symbols of Hawaiian rulership and identity also addressed the internal cleavage in Hawaiian politics involving competing chiefly lineages. Basing their arguments on lineage seniority, Kalākaua’s rivals argued that he lacked sufficient genealogy to properly lead the Hawaiian people. Before monarchical rule was established, the islands and districts of Hawai‘i were governed by a chiefly system based on genealogical purity through which members of the high chiefly class proved their divine lineages. Chiefs of the highest ranks (ali‘i nui) were responsible for the productivity of their lands and the well-being of the general population, oversaw lesser chiefs, and performed religious duties required to maintain the life of land and people or secure political power. Prior to Kalākaua assuming the throne, members of the Kamehameha chiefly line occupied the kingship, a lineage recognized as holding sacred mana, or power, originating to a great extent from its founder, Kamehameha the Conqueror. In the last quarter of the eighteenth century, Kamehameha, a usurping, conquering chief from Kohala on the island of Hawai‘i, wrested power from his cousin and named ruler, Kīwala‘ō, and forcefully expanded his lands until they encompassed the islands of Hawai‘i, Maui, O‘ahu, Lāna‘i, Kaho‘olawe, and Moloka‘i. Later, in 1810, Kamehameha negotiated with Kaumuali‘i, the paramount chief (mō‘ī) of Kaua‘i, through diplomacy rather than battle (though strained by the threat of future violence) to secure acknowledgment of Kamehameha’s sovereignty. This event brought Kaua‘i and the neighboring island of Ni‘ihau into his domain and signaled the unification of the major islands of the Hawaiian archipelago under a single, centralized rule. Thus began the Kingdom of Hawai‘i and the Kamehameha Dynasty. Kamehameha was succeeded by his sons Liholiho (Kamehameha II, 1796–1824) and Kauikeaouli (Kamehameha III, 1813–1854) and grandsons Alexander Liholiho (Kamehameha IV, 1834–1863) and Lota Kapuāiwa (Kamehameha V, 1830–1872). When the last Kamehameha died without naming an heir, William Charles Lunalilo (1833–1874), a grandson to Kamehameha’s half-brother, was elected to the throne. He too died without designating a successor, requiring another royal election in which Kalākaua was elected over his rival Queen Emma, wife of Alexander Liholiho. Upon his assuming the throne, the legitimacy of Kalākaua’s kingship was called into question by some Native communities. Effective, proper leadership was central to the continued existence of the kingdom, especially in light of the rapidly diminishing Native population, which was succumbing to low birthrates, high infant mortality, and the impact of introduced diseases. While the precise Native Hawaiian population prior to

˘

Introduction

the arrival of Europeans is unknown, estimates range from about five hundred thousand to one million; these estimates indicate a depopulation of about 90 to 95 percent by the end of the nineteenth century.7 Meanwhile, the number of non-Native residents was growing, with their population concentrated in Honolulu; here, the number of foreign settlers increased from about eighty to one hundred in 1800 to well over eight thousand in the 1840s.8 Declining social and economic conditions additionally impacted Native Hawaiian health and morale. Foreign settlers alienated land and exploited resources with a seemingly unquenchable appetite, prompting historian Samuel Kamakau to describe haole, in a petition to Kauikeaouli, as “devastat[ing] the land like the hordes of caterpillars the fields.”9 Native welfare continued to decline in the latter half of the century. In 1887, former U.S. minister resident to the Kingdom of Hawai‘i Rollin M. Daggett described Native Hawaiians as landless, hopeless victims to the greed and vices of civilization. They are slowly sinking under the restraints and burdens of their surroundings, and will in time succumb to social and political conditions foreign to their natures and poisonous to their blood. Year by year their footprints will grow more dim along the sands of their reef-sheltered shores, and fainter and fainter will come their simple songs from the shadows of the palms, until finally their voices will be heard no more for ever.10

Hope for the survival of Native Hawaiians lay principally in the faith they placed in their leaders. A significant portion of the Native Hawaiian constituency doubted that Kalākaua, who was not of the Kamehameha line of chiefs, possessed adequate genealogy to assure their survival. Kalākaua therefore promoted national culture forms that supported the authority and efficacy of his rulership in indigenous political terms and looked to Hawai‘i’s tradition of chiefly rule and to the successes of his distant and recent predecessors for guidance and inspiration. The four manifestations of Hawaiian visual culture analyzed here are distinctive in that they circulated as public forms that generated different meanings for different viewers. They resonated with cultural and political agendas—some shared and others conflicting—pursued by various communities interested in the future of Hawai‘i: Native Hawaiians, haole settlers, and international actors. While this study acknowledges that images and spaces produced, in important ways, meanings and contexts for non-Native audiences, I concentrate on how these visual statements articulated Native Hawaiian conceptions of history, chiefly rule, and nationhood, which were shaped by a century of contact with foreigners and the ways Native Hawaiians responded to their presence. I discard notions of cultural purity that suggest national culture represented an essential, fixed core of Native beliefs and practices and instead focus on how Hawaiian cultural integrity moved through complex interactions and creative engagement with the world.



Hawaiian National Art ˘

Colonial Hawaiian Art and History Despite their permanence as cultural and political icons, the examples of nineteenthcentury Native Hawaiian visual culture examined in this study have received little art historical study. The same is true for Kalākaua’s visual arts patronage. This lack of attention is due in part to the nature of Hawaiian historiography. Numerous published accounts of colonial Hawai‘i, which are recognized as authoritative accounts and enjoy broad circulation, have made substantial contributions to the study of Hawaiian history. Many, however, largely represent Western points of view and draw heavily on Western written and visual sources.11 With important recent exceptions, little critical analysis has been directed to Native texts, visual or otherwise, of the colonial period. Despite a Native Hawaiian scholar community established at Lahainaluna, Maui, in the 1830s, which pursued a keen interest in recording Native Hawaiian histories and customs, nearly universal literacy among the Native population by mid-century, and Native presses active in the second half of the century, indigenous contributions to political, social, and cultural history have often been overlooked, marginalized, or dismissed.12 Conventional histories frequently paint a particularly cursory or unsympathetic portrait of Kalākaua and his public art projects, variously representing him as a naïve leader who followed the counsel of mischievous foreign advisers, an ineffective ruler whose biased policies roused ethnic conflict, or a king who preferred merrymaking and pursuing various spectacles and entertainments to serious politics. Political scientist Noenoe K. Silva goes so far as to suggest that he is perhaps the most reviled and ridiculed of the Hawaiian monarchs.13 The cultural and political history of the Kalākaua period continues to be largely mystified in the non-Native imaginary, in which visions of Hawai‘i’s “toy kingdom” persist, emphasizing, for example, the miniature charm of ‘Iolani Palace or the quaintness of the Kamehameha Monument—delightful historical ornaments of modern, cosmopolitan Honolulu. Conditioned to a great extent by the visitor industry, popular conceptions of Hawaiian history reflect profitable images and obscure others, sustaining indifference to colonial and neocolonial histories in Hawai‘i.14 Some scholars and biographers have authored more evenhanded accounts of the Kalākaua period, eliciting complex social and political issues of the time and indicating the degree to which the criticisms and biased treatment of Kalākaua’s reign are largely the legacy of this king’s political opponents.15 As histories of nineteenth-century Hawai‘i are histories of colonialism, recent scholarship addresses the struggles for control over power and knowledge that moved through cultural representations (such as performances, novels, poetry, scientific reports, and historical narratives) that were inseparable from “real” power struggles.16 Native and non-Native writers have infused Hawaiian historiography with consideration of a broader range of sources and perspectives on land, religion, literature, journalism, politics, government, and society. In addition to Hawaiian language texts, expressive forms such as music, dance, and oral histories are now centered in historical analyses.17 The effect of this recent history writing is not merely to recuperate lost



Introduction

voices and cultural forms, but it also indicates contemporary engagement in a cultural process that is inseparable from its audience(s) and is always tied to the present.18 Historical representation, as Geoffrey M. White remarks, is a political practice whose “ability to make certain stories real, true, public, and collective, not only empowers some political futures and disables others but also discursively creates the very subjects of history.”19 Writers have not simply discovered the value of Native Hawaiian texts and images; they surface as cultural documents and practices that matter, seriously and urgently, in current historical consciousness. A society is what it remembers, and history is a practice of memory and remembering. Histories are certain objectifications of certain memories that inform the present and shape the future; they involve, like some Polynesian conceptions of time, a backing into the future, a facing toward the past that is conditioned by the present to chart the future. As Paul Sharrad states, “We become history’s creatures and write from its archive.”20 The present-day archive of Hawai‘i, however, privileges literature, oral texts, and performance. Indigenous visual culture of colonial Hawai‘i has not received serious, sustained scholarly attention. Nuanced art historical inquiry has instead been primarily confined to studies of precontact cultures, contact encounters, or postcolonial representations. Colonial visual studies related to Polynesia principally focus on Western imaginings—images produced in the context of colonial settlement, missionary activity, and travel/tourism—that tend to render invisible contemporaneous indigenous visual cultures.21 Few scholars have scrutinized the cultural processes and effects of sustained contact on indigenous visualities after contact and prior to more recent independence or postindependence movements. Anthropologist Nicholas Thomas notes that while it is precisely during the temporal span of prolonged intercultural interaction that colonial expansion has been most intrusive and had the greatest impact on cultural change, little attention has been devoted to its study.22 This historiographic discontinuity has led to a significant art historical gap that assents to nineteenth- and twentieth-century fictions of disappearing indigenous cultures (seemingly visible only as apparitions in colonial representations) and hinders a more complex historicizing of Native visual cultures. Intercultural entanglements were as complex in colonial Hawaiian history as in the postcolonial cultural processes they shaped. Visual culture of the Kalākaua era provides key historical documents that lend insight into how Native Hawaiian rulers met social and political challenges while mapping a path of modernity. Objects and images, and their public display, played a significant role in cultivating Hawaiian nationness. Examining visual culture is particularly important to understanding cultural change in Hawai‘i—a culture with a rich tradition of visual arts playing communicative and symbolic roles in making history and formalizing political, social, and religious ideologies. Objects associated with the hereditary chiefly class were infused with mana, a fluid divine power derived from the ancestors, and like chiefs, these objects were considered inherently powerful. Art historian Anne D’Alleva describes the historical value of objects and their preservation as key aspects of Polynesian material culture:



Hawaiian National Art

In these highly stratified societies, where most titles are hereditary, genealogy is of paramount importance, and objects passed down as heirlooms create connections between the living and the dead. Artworks can embody mana and make it active in this world, facilitating the transfer of mana from one generation to the next. As artworks are used by succeeding generations, they gain more mana, prestige and luster, characteristics that also accrue to the lineage and the individuals that own them.23

The emblems and institutions cultivated by the Kalākaua administration preserved and activated the chiefly and divine mana inherent in specific images, objects, spaces, and individuals and did so in modern, innovative ways. Colonial-era image production cohered with conceptions of mana, and mana was also evidenced and channeled through creative activity, and it therefore encouraged rather than suppressed innovation. While objects and images convey historically contextualized meanings for a given audience, they also have transformative potential, playing creative, active roles in cultural production. Material forms and spaces—and their production and circulation—comprise historical processes. In promoting or contesting national cultures, whether as individualized symbols, collections, or as formally arranged items in a museum, objects are instrumental in shaping identities, articulating national agendas, and representing the spirit of a particular community.24 “Charismatic symbols” or “key symbols”25 articulate what are proposed to be the essential characteristics of a given people, nation, or tradition that function to order, explain, and guide human experience and sociocultural change, as well as to galvanize action. Anthropologist Antonio Marazzi argues that public consensus is better achieved through the visual than through the oral or written, and that during moments of rupture such as social conflict or colonization, sensitivity to visual symbols is heightened.26 The public national projects promoted by Kalākaua and his supporters advanced symbols that communicated broadly, connecting in different ways with the cultures, histories, and expectations of different audiences in attempting to unite members of the nation. Visual representation is therefore an important venue through which to examine constructions of nationness in colonial Hawai‘i. Public art and architecture related collective identities to objects and images; in an environment of prolonged cultural interaction between Native Hawaiians, non-Native settlers, and foreign states, new art forms and meanings emerged and indigenous forms and meanings were revalued and recontextualized, mobilizing a visual vocabulary that contracted in some ways and expanded in others.27 Counter to urban historian Nezar AlSayyad’s suggestion that particulars of form (which might include style, iconography, technique, and media) in cultural representations are of less consequence than the basic fact of their existence or implementation,28 the poetics of visual texts—the way they are constructed, viewed, and interpreted—contextualize and substantiate representations. The details of visual images are key to understanding how symbols produce meanings. The chapters that follow examine the specifics of images and spaces, as well as the circumstances of their production and circulation,





Introduction

to demonstrate how some of most lasting monuments of Kalākaua’s reign negotiated a national and global presence for the king and the Kingdom of Hawai‘i.

Colonialism and Indigenous Visual Cultural Production To maintain sovereignty and forge recognition in the international community, Hawaiian leaders utilized a variety of visual, institutional, and narrative means to formalize a national culture asserting the kingdom’s past, present, and future status as an independent state. The appearance of many of these nationalized symbols, such as feather standards (kāhili), feather cloaks (‘ahu ‘ula), and ivory pendants (niho palaoa), evinced recognizably traditional Hawaiian forms, though now displayed in contexts such as coronations, palaces, and legislative assemblies, while that of others, such as state architecture, crowns, thrones, and figurative memorials, derived from Western sources. Many of the king’s critics dismissed the latter as evidence of Kalākaua’s love for extravagant display and desire to imitate Western rulers. A harsh characterization, for example, penned by George Fitch, columnist and newspaper editor in Peoria and San Francisco, described the Hawaiian nation as a “pygmy kingdom” and mocked Kalākaua’s pains to “ape European royalty.”29 Yet one cannot describe Kalākaua’s efforts as mere mimicry. His was not an insipid copycat modernist nationalism “traditionalized” or “Hawaiianized” through the nostalgic use of visual markers of the Native past. Some accounts imply that the deployment of “traditional” cultural symbols simply represent vestiges of the past and the use of introduced forms represent evidence of natural and effortless flows of European monarchical forms to Island polities.30 Countering such opinions, this study shows that objects and spaces were not so hermetically sealed as to hinder purposeful revaluation or the incorporation of novel meanings. Late-nineteenth-century Hawaiian nationalist culture was not an aggregate or composite of indigenous and foreign forms arranged side by side in “natural” or uninspired ways but rather a processual unfolding of Native Hawaiian conceptions of chiefliness and modern rulership that generated new cultural representations oriented to the future. Criticisms launched by Kalākaua’s contemporaries of the hollowly imitative character of his cultural undertakings haunt analysis of colonial Hawaiian visual culture, implicitly raising questions regarding the authenticity of such works as ‘Iolani Palace or the Kamehameha Monument as Native Hawaiian art forms. Hawaiian dance, poetry, and literature have clear indigenous referents; palaces, bronze monuments, and museums do not. It may be that nineteenth-century Native Hawaiian visual art—particularly syncretic forms of representation—has not received significant art historical study, due in part to the notion that after a century of uninterrupted contact with westerners, indigenous visual culture was too westernized to be “authentically” Hawaiian. The dearth of scholarly attention paid to colonial visual culture suggests that, because of its pervasive Euro-American references, it has been dismissed as evidence of the decline of “traditional” culture and its assimilation into global cultural, economic, and political



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systems.31 Such political economy interpretations emphasize how political and cultural bodies are incorporated into the world system, underscoring global economies and inequities. Interpreting colonialism and its ensuing cultural transformations primarily in terms of hegemonic globalization relies heavily on a monolithic narrative that presents a totalizing, determinative view of global forces and homogenizes all colonial predicaments and processes, creating what Ann L. Stoler calls a “colonial everyman.”32 The effect is also to diminish historical particularity and the significance of diversity and ambiguity within and between communities cohabiting colonial spaces. Colonial processes were highly variable in the Pacific; they were conditioned by the histories and motivations of both colonizing and colonized entities and the agency of key actors in creating environments conducive to collaboration and resistance. Agents, processes, and outcomes of colonization in Hawai‘i are distinct from those in, for instance, Samoa, Fiji, or the Kingdom of Tonga.33 One wonders whether enduring nationalist monuments would have been created had Kalākaua not enjoyed the initial support of American interests in the kingdom, which were confident that Kalākaua would develop their economic investments and shape the nation into a form of their liking; or if Kalākaua, a non-Kamehameha, had not been elected king, compelling him to publicly demonstrate the legitimacy of his sacred rulership to his Native constituency, and to encourage his pursuit of foreign recognition by likening his rule to that of European monarchs through symbols possessing international currency. His intensely modernist and nativist sensibilities led him to cultivate an innovative Native Hawaiian nationalist culture. At the same time, the energy with which he pursued his cultural and political mission functioned, over time, to alienate his non-Native opponents who sought political control of the kingdom, inducing them to organize and, in 1887, to force Kalākaua to sign what is known as the Bayonet Constitution, effectively stripping him of political power. Throughout his political career, Kalākaua was neither meek nor passive; he shaped the course of Hawaiian history—and art history—to a much greater extent than is credited in common accounts. Therefore, assumptions based on the hegemony of colonizing cultures or attributions of the ultimate loss of autonomy to indigenous people themselves, their “fatal attraction” to irresistible foreign goods originating in initial encounters, are here questioned. While the far-reaching impact of colonialism cannot and should not be ignored, Hawaiian cultural forms, nationalist or other, did not simply or inevitably adopt those of a “dominant” culture due to ideological coercion. The language of coercion and domination, fatal attraction, and naïve acquiescence does not satisfactorily characterize cultural change and exchange in Hawai‘i or other colonial cultures, where specific forms and significations mattered profoundly in the lives and futures of colonial subjects.34 To adopt this view is to ignore Native Hawaiian subjectivity and agency in the discourses that characterized national and international relations of the period and risks blindness to, or misunderstanding of, articulations of resistance.35 Such a misconception seems evident, for example, in AlSayyad’s writing on colonial urbanism and forms of resistance:



10

Introduction

[The colonized] had little to cling to in their drive to establish their own sovereignty, and they were forced to use the ideologies and terms of the existing colonial world, with its baggage of concepts like independence, national identity, and freedom. In the struggle for independence, the dominated people had to envision their new societies based on the terms of their former colonizers.36

Native Hawaiians were not plainly infatuated with introduced images, goods, and practices based solely on their novelty; they were often selective and calculated in the ways they participated in trade and diplomacy with Western nations. Beginning in the late eighteenth century, Native Hawaiians of all social classes drew foreigners into their lives through trade, religion, and their incorporation into local communities as counselors and servants. In Hawai‘i, as in Polynesian chiefdoms like Tahiti and Tonga, indigenous rulers used foreign goods and technologies to consolidate their political domains.37 Examining the ways Hawaiian chiefs engaged alien peoples and ideas in the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries provides examples of their interested and purposeful interactions and informs analysis of later Hawaiian visual culture. Kamehameha I, for instance, profited from the sandalwood trade directed to East Asia and commanded Europeans as his advisers, assistants, and translators to facilitate his interactions with outsiders. British sailors John Young and Isaac Davis introduced Westerns arms, which Kamehameha used to expand his chiefdom. In his journal, Spaniard Don Francisco de Paula Marin, who arrived in Hawai‘i in the 1790s and served Kamehameha and his powerful wife Ka‘ahumanu, indicates how at any time Kamehameha could bestow or confiscate the land, life, and property of haole in his employ.38 This king also appropriated foreign architecture, sailing vessels, weapons, metal, and furniture. He monopolized the trade of imported cloth and restricted its circulation among chiefs, accommodating these to the elevated status and sociopolitical value of fine textiles in indigenous culture. Kalākaua perpetuated similar practices in the last quarter of the nineteenth century. He fashioned his court in regal style, incorporating European military emblems, royal symbols, fine Western furnishings, and the etiquette of the court of St. James, and housed his court in a modern palace. He marked national history and progress with a national museum and a modern memorial to the founder of the kingdom. These costly and conspicuous displays paralleled chiefs’ adoption of Western goods and practices earlier in the century to appropriate foreign mana. The concept of mana and the way it was attached to certain foreign materials and practices was key to these exchanges. Consumption amplified the chiefs’ mana and power: to their subjects, it demonstrated their capacity to properly channel the mana of the gods (akua); to foreigners, it suggested their divinity.39 Also, like his Kamehameha predecessors, Kalākaua sought the advice of foreign counselors, appointing numerous haole to high government positions, as well as enlisting them as personal consultants. He traveled the world and queried foreign visitors and settlers to gain knowledge of other nations in order to effectively participate in the international arena.40



Hawaiian National Art

One royal adviser stands out as a primary actor in the development of public art of the Kalākaua era and warrants brief introduction. Of American origin, Walter Murray Gibson was unflaggingly devoted to the welfare of Native Hawaiians (even if simultaneously an opportunist).41 He was a key actor in promoting Hawai‘i’s national culture, and it is often difficult to disentangle his impact from Kalākaua’s in the motivation, planning, and execution of many public undertakings, notably those considered in this study. Prior to arriving in Honolulu in 1861, Gibson traveled the Pacific and United States in search of exotic, unspoiled lands. He settled on the island of Lāna‘i, where he wrote in his journal, “This is the nucleus of development. Lines of power, of influence shall radiate from this shining crater. I set up my standard here and it goes hence to the islands of the sea.” He took as his task to “give birth to a better hope for humanity in Polynesia.”42 Gibson was a complex figure who appears to have come to the Islands seeking opportunity, adventure, and a people to save, yet he sincerely struggled to serve and provide leadership to Native Hawaiians. Though harboring paternalistic attitudes, he championed “weaker races” in their struggles against Western colonial powers.43 Granted citizenship in 1866, Gibson considered himself one of the people and adopted a Hawaiian name: Kipikona. In 1872, he formally entered politics as a legislative representative, proclaiming himself defender of the Hawaiians and promoting his agenda to renew Native culture and revitalize the indigenous population. He gained fluency in the Hawaiian language and in 1873 established a Hawaiian-English newspaper, Ka Nūhou Hawai‘i (“The Hawaiian News”), of which he was contributing editor. Through the paper, Gibson’s goal was to combat the growing political and economic power of the haole business community by rallying Native Hawaiian nationalism.44 In 1882, Kalākaua appointed him prime minister and minister of foreign affairs. Due to his vociferous pro–Native Hawaiian stance and what were perceived as grand and outlandish cultural projects and political ambitions, Gibson made many enemies among plantation and other business leaders, who accused him of being a dishonest, self-interested manipulator and inciter of race hatred in the kingdom.45 Nevertheless, though not identically motivated, together Kalākaua and Gibson pursued a highly public visual culture to signal the Hawaiian nation. In other significant ways, Kalākaua continued the efforts of earlier rulers to selectively adapt alien cultural, social, and political forms to benefit their rule and enhance their mana and power. For example, after taking a leading role in overturning the traditional religious order, the kapu system,46 Ka‘ahumanu adopted Christianity in the mid-1820s in order to be a pono (good, effective, and righteous) leader.47 With the departure of the old gods and customary ways of preserving and channeling mana, this ali‘i nui pursued new avenues to consolidate and build the kingdom and the influence of her lineage. Like Ka‘ahumanu, Kalākaua sought innovative means to proper rulership in a rapidly changing Hawai‘i. Rather than following a Christian path, however, he pursued a vigorous cultural nationalism, adapting institutions supported around the globe to indigenous conceptions of chiefly rule. In so doing, he sought to build bridges between Hawai‘i and other states and promote the kingdom’s equality in the community of nations. Kalākaua’s

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Introduction

clear concern with strengthening foreign relations led him to pursue diplomatic alliances with foreign leaders, following the political strategy of his predecessor, Kauikeaouli, who reigned as Kamehameha III from 1825 to 1854. Kauikeaouli initiated the process of gaining formal recognition of the Hawaiian state in 1842, sending representatives to the United States, England, and France. As discussed in more detail below, Kalākaua persevered to guarantee the kingdom’s sovereign future through international relations and the education of future Native Hawaiian leaders.48 The outward indications of his efforts coalesced in his public presentations such as his coronation ceremony, through which he intended to attract the notice of local residents and the international community. The larger issue, however, is that while the ali‘i’s confidence in foreign institutions—religion, law, commerce, diplomacy, and education—ultimately undermined Native confidence in their own institutions and dispossessed them of their land and country,49 it was not, at least at the outset, unambiguously based on coercion, effortless cultural flows, or infatuation.

Colonial Cultures in Hawai‘i Examination of the heterogeneous forms of Hawaiian nationalist culture compels consideration of the diverse communities comprising the nation and the competing and sometimes overlapping agendas they pursued. These communities, neither rigid nor bounded, interacted in multifaceted ways that conditioned how symbolic representations of the nation were created and viewed. Insisting on an unambiguous distinction between “Hawaiian” and “haole” cultures in the nineteenth century distorts the complexity of intercultural relations and cultural production, visual or otherwise. Native Hawaiian society was never unmarked by internal social cleavages and political contests, and it cannot therefore be understood as an undivided, homogenous entity with a unified will and subjectivity. Native Hawaiians were varied in the ways they interpreted and the extent to which they engaged foreign ideas and practices and, later in the century, they were divided as to how to secure their continued existence. From early in the colonial era, ali‘i nui disagreed over the rejection of the established religion, the adoption of Christianity and missionary advisers, and how to manage the influx of foreigners. The kapu overthrow, for instance, was not born out of consensus; it involved a struggle within the Native elite, some of whom regarded foreigners and foreign ways with suspicion, while others viewed strategic engagement with haole as a means of fulfilling their political and economic aspirations. The lives and concerns of Native Hawaiians were no more homogenous during the latter half of the century. This is particularly evident in the different experiences and interests of those inhabiting urban Honolulu and busy port towns, which were distinct from those living in the remote, rural districts of the Islands. Honolulu in the 1870s was the site of major cultural transformations. Cultural practices founded on middle-class American notions of taste and morality were cultivated in the city, such as the advancement of literature,



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theater, and classical music.50 Many ali‘i and ali‘i nui, Kalākaua included, participated in these refined cultural mores. They were avid consumers of literature, opera, and fashion. Nationalist symbols displayed by Kalākaua publicly underscored the Honolulu social elite’s involvement in “high,” respectable, modern culture. Visual culture examined in this book also reflected divisions within the Native elite and Kalākaua’s efforts to create unity among Native Hawaiians. As social and political pressures on the nation became increasingly acute, Native Hawaiian detractors joined the predominantly American-interested opposition to the king’s rule. Led by legislators John Ka‘uhane, John L. Kaulukou, J. W. Kalua, Joseph K. Nāwahī, and George W. Pilipō, representing Honolulu and districts on the island of Hawai‘i, the Native opposition was small but influential. Nearly all these critics had been supporters of Queen Emma, Kalākaua’s defeated rival for the throne in 1874.51 With the legislative elections of 1876, the “Queen’s Party,” or the “Emmaites,” initiated a political party system in Hawai‘i and maintained a keen distrust of the “DKs” (Kalākaua’s National Party) and their policies, such as the Reciprocity Treaty, ratified in 1875, which permitted Hawaiian sugar to be imported into the United States duty free.52 Kalākaua pursued the treaty to gain the support of the white business and plantation communities, but the Emmaites argued it benefited only a small group of haole and ultimately threatened the kingdom’s independence. In addition to being a harsh critic of the king’s genealogical justification of his rule, Emma and her supporters censured Kalākaua’s nation-building projects, particularly those considered in this book: constructing a new palace, organizing a coronation ceremony, and erecting public monuments. Discord within the Native population indicated their uncertainty over which policies would more effectively assure their survival and prosperity.53 Those who perceived Kalākaua to be the nation’s biggest threat condemned what they saw as wasteful, irresponsible expenditures, preferring instead to invest in Native business, health and education, limit the importing of plantation laborers, and curb the growth of the sugar industry. In 1884 this opposition allied itself, to some extent, with missionary, business, and planter agendas. On the other hand, those who believed Kalākaua to be the only real hope for the future supported his spending aimed at encouraging indigenous health and morale, boosting Hawai‘i’s international standing, and expanding the plantation industry to stimulate the local economy and placate the haole elite. As Kalākaua’s public projects emerged in the Honolulu landscape, they marshaled grand Native historical narratives and concepts of modern chiefly rule, fusing them to Kalākaua’s reign and dramatically countering the Emmaites’ claims. But it must also be noted that, as markers of civilized nationhood, commemorative monuments and museums additionally evoked non-Native histories and positions in the island kingdom and different visions of nationhood. Public art of the Kalākaua period resonated variously with diverse audiences and therefore cannot be easily confined to representing Native nationalisms. Just as Native Hawaiian communities were varied in their interests, non-Native settlers were divided in their goals, perceptions, and allegiances; Euro-Americans residing in or visiting colonial sites cannot be homogenized, nor can

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Introduction

they be seamlessly aligned with metropolitan interests.54 Competing agendas and interests based on ethnicity, national allegiance, rank, class, and religious affiliation impacted colonial processes and national culture in Hawai‘i. Even from early in the contact period, visitors’ and early settlers’ impressions were inconsistent. While indigenous Hawaiians were reviled in accounts written by members of the first companies of American missionaries—characterized as heathen, infantile, and dangerous—sailors of early trading vessels described Native Hawaiians and their chiefs as politically astute, militarily organized, and culturally sophisticated.55 Helen G. Chapin’s study of newspapers published in Hawai‘i also indicates strong differences of opinion expressed by haole throughout the century.56 Establishment newspapers tended to be edited by missionaries or their descendants and represented American culture and values, as well as controlling interests in the kingdom. One example is the Pacific Commercial Advertiser, which from 1856 to 1870 and 1889 to 1892 pressed a pro-American perspective.57 Opposition papers circulating from the 1830s critiqued missionary positions and promoted business interests, while those circulating from the 1860s to the end of the century also supported Native Hawaiian autonomy and the monarchy. Chapin describes how the Honolulu Times (1849–1851), edited by Henry L. Sheldon, the first American journalist to marry a Native Hawaiian woman, challenged the authority of the missionaries, their role as royal advisers, and the laws they introduced. Abraham Fornander’s Weekly Argus (1851–1853) also criticized missionary influence on government and was decidedly dedicated to the welfare of Native Hawaiians in social, political, and economic matters. Fornander, like Sheldon, was married to a Native woman, Alanakapu Kauapinoa, a chiefess of Moloka‘i. He continued to champion Native Hawaiian causes as proprietor of the Polynesian from 1861 to 1864. Just as haole opinions were far from uniform throughout the century, Kalākaua’s public art projects were supported, contested, and variously interpreted by various sectors of the haole population. Other social factors complicate the significations of national art forms and the nature of Hawaiian national identities. Royalist supporters, many of whom frequented the court as the “Palace Set,” were a multinational, multiethnic community. They included Native Hawaiians, Chinese, English, Americans, Scots, Irish, and people of other origins and ethnic mixtures.58 Complex and ambiguous alliances, too, between “colonizers” and “colonized” were effected through marriages between Native Hawaiians of all social classes and settlers from various homelands, as well as among the children of these unions. Many ali‘i nui wed foreigners. Notable couples included Bernice Pauahi Pākī (1831–1884, a high chiefess of the Kamehameha line) and American Charles R. Bishop;↜59 Miriam Kekāuluohi Likelike (1851–1887, sister of Kalākaua) and Scotsman Archibald S. Cleghorn; and Lydia Kamaka‘eha (1838–1917, another sister of Kalākaua, who succeeded him as Queen Lili‘uokalani) and American John O. Dominis. Queen Emma was the granddaughter of John Young, Kamehameha I’s haole adviser. Adopted by her maternal aunt Grace Makaikui Rooke and Englishman T. C. B. Rooke, Emma was raised with British and Hawaiian customs, taught by a personal English tutor, and attended the New



Hawaiian National Art

England–modeled Chiefs’ Children’s School. She was noted for her decidedly pro-British views, and she, with Alexander Liholiho, established the Anglican Church in Hawai‘i. Moreover, identities and positions were neither tidy nor transparent outside the kingdom. Imperial powers varied in their opinions about annexing Hawai‘i until the turn of the century; this rift permitted and motivated the circulation of Hawaiian nationalist forms, which sought to impact international attitudes. As early as the 1820s, the permanent status of Hawai‘i as an independent state was called into question. Its colonization was considered inevitable in a book review of 1828 in the North American Review: “Whether it would be wise or unwise, for the British or the American cabinet to desire colonies in the Pacific we leave for others to decide. There is no doubt, however, that things are now tending toward the occupation of the Islands by a foreign power.”60 Later, during the second half of the century, American debates about whether to annex Hawai‘i intensified. Proponents of annexation—and expansionist policies generally—frequently cited social Darwinist justifications for their economic and political agendas. Arguing the superiority of Anglo-Saxons in the social competition for survival and their proper place as the guiding moral force for their less well-adapted brethren, pro-annexationists claimed Native Hawaiians would benefit from their benevolent leadership. Similar ideas circulated among some haole communities in Honolulu, evident in local newspaper and history writing. Hawaiian residents of like mind also published their opinions in the pages of the North American Review. Lorrin A. Thurston, for instance, a vocal opponent of Kalākaua, reasoned that because the indigenous people were incapable of preserving the independent state Americans had helped to create, American interests in Hawai‘i outweighed indigenous rights to independence.61 Those arguing against annexation often grounded their opposition on the American Constitution; they argued that it was unethical to substitute Manifest Destiny for the Constitution.62 Some recalled Secretary of State Daniel Webster’s affirmation of Hawaiian sovereignty in a letter he presented to two visiting Hawaiian representatives in 1842. In the document, he declared, “as the sense of the government of the United States that the government of the Sandwich Islands [Hawai‘i] ought to be respected; that no power ought to take possession of the islands, either as a conquest or for the purpose of colonization; and that no power ought to seek for any undue control over the existing government or any exclusive privileges or preference in matters of commerce.”63 Historian Eric T. Love, however, argues it was not defense of the American Constitution but rather racist ideologies that antagonized American imperialism and ultimately thwarted attempts to officially annex the Islands until 1898. Persuasive challenges to annexation came from those who rejected rationales based on social Darwinism and the notion of the “white man’s burden”; anti-annexationists feared incorporating what they characterized as a degenerate, inassimilable Hawaiian population. In light of the Chinese Exclusion Act, passed by the United States in 1882, and the growing numbers of Chinese laborers brought to Hawai‘i between 1865 and 1884, augmented by Japanese workers in the 1880s to the mid-1890s, many in the United States fought annexation.64 The Kalākaua

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Introduction

administration added a positive face to its appeals to anti-annexationists. Countering notions of a corrupt, unruly Hawaiian population, the visibility of national symbols and institutions akin to those in Western states intervened in international sight, imaging the civilized and modern character of the nation, insisting that the kingdom was due both respect and its sovereignty, and that outside interference or leadership was unjustified and unnecessary. The range of competing and collaborating views described above demonstrates that identity positions of colonized and colonizers were not unequivocally discrete and overlapped in some ways. Indigenous, settler, and metropolitan cultures were historically conditioned and changed in relation to one another over extended periods of contact. In analyzing Hawaiian national arts and other cultural forms of the nineteenth century, one must therefore be wary of overprivileging or oversimplifying colonial agency and ignoring the possibility that indigenous expressions responded to phenomena other than those imposed externally. Indigenous populations did react to colonial presences, but this was not the sum of their cultural and political sensibilities. National culture was not exclusively dichotomized along the lines of Hawai‘i “versus” the West, nor did it position the West as the only model worthy of consideration. At the same time, “culturalist” or “structural historical” approaches to the study of colonial cultures, which prioritize symbolic structures of meaning and action existing prior to contact to explain local response, are also inadequate;65 these fail to account for the interpretive changes in objects and ideas that occur with prolonged cultural interaction. Because this interpretive strategy confines actors “within the nativist space of traditional cultural categories, capable only of assimilating novel context to preexisting forms,”66 structural history cannot adequately explain processes and products of cultural change and translation. The visual analyses pursued in this study focus on how historical conditions and individual agency interacted with Native epistemologies and internationalist ideologies; the forms and significations of national representations did not emerge from static conceptions of Native rulership, nor were they articulations of passively or coercively absorbed alien notions of nationhood. Binary colonial categories and identity positions are therefore discarded, and the mutual entanglements of those inhabiting colonial sites are emphasized. Instead of analyzing how bounded entities interact, how peripheries collide, attention is directed to the terrains and processes of cultural intersections or contact zones and how power is deployed and resisted in these spaces.67 Some scholars utilize spatial metaphors to problematize analyses of culture contact based on images of societies, nations, and cultures inhabiting autonomous, discontinuous spaces.68 Arguing that spaces have always been hierarchically ordered, they are concerned with the ways spaces become places—or communities—through ongoing interactions and interconnections that define and differentiate communities as they connect them. It is in these common spaces that identities are perpetually negotiated and represented and mutually implicated in one another, always contested, partial, and shifting, not bounded or constant.69 Understanding colonial cultural production in these ways



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allows one to constructively approach questions regarding who the Hawaiian leadership was, why it fashioned visual culture to build national identity, what publics were being formed and addressed, and how symbols, spaces, and institutions generated meanings. Kalākaua-era public visual culture drew in fundamental ways on indigenous conceptions of the sacred rule of the king, but in equally consequential ways, it intently endeavored to propose “something more.”

Native Hawaiian Modernity and Resistance Many studies of globalization address issues of culture contact and identity construction in postcolonial contexts of cultural production. Discussion of the myriad cultures generated within global flows of people, images, ideas, and technologies represents a shift away from the idea that global interactions breed cultural homogeneity.70 However, differences in power must remain central to such analyses to avoid benign or misguided celebrations of global multiculturalism or what Simon During terms “joyful postcolonialism.”71 While indigenous or other subordinated peoples created ways to withstand authority and reorder local customs in passive and active ways, their cultures of resistance cannot be separated from cultures of dominance.72 National visual culture of the Kalākaua era, conditioned as it was by the mutual entanglement of diverse communities established in the kingdom, responded to the loss, violence, pain, and death wrought through these interactions. Difficult choices faced the Hawaiian ali‘i as they negotiated paths to cultural survival and political sovereignty. Sally Engle Merry exposes the contradictions and uncertainties in the process of Native Hawaiian chiefs adapting Western, “civilized” institutions such as law, education, religion, and government (what Edward Said calls “the voyage in”) as a means of resisting imperialism and claiming political and cultural autonomy.73 In the process, Native Hawaiians indigenized these foreign institutions and practices, demonstrating what Marshall Sahlins terms the “indigenization of modernity”: “the demand of the people for their own space within the world cultural order. Rather than a refusal of the commodities and relations of the world-system, this more often means . . . a desire to indigenize them.”74 Thus Sahlins inverts the phrase “cultures of resistance” to “the resistance of culture.” While Kalākaua and his advisers brandished ostensibly Western royal regalia, architecture, and monuments and developed a national museum, they appropriated and redefined these forms as profoundly Hawaiian; forms, however, that also manifest the power struggles stemming from their colonial context. These mediations can also be seen in the ways Native Hawaiians interacted with other foreign institutions, two of which, religion and literature, are briefly introduced here to demonstrate how this dynamic pervaded many aspects of colonial Hawaiian culture and to indicate the relationship between developments in art and other representational modes. So, for example, while almost all Native Hawaiians adopted Christianity by mid-century, it was not perceived or practiced in the same ways as in New England or by American missionaries living and working in the

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Introduction

Islands. Native religion had not been completely Christianized and appears to have persisted through, or despite, Christianity.75 As there are few published studies of early modern Hawaiian religious history, it is difficult to characterize religious beliefs and practices in the second half of the nineteenth century. Clearly, there existed syncretic movements such as Ho‘omana Na‘auao (Christian Science) and, in addition to Christian influences, Buddhism, Judaism, Baha‘i, Theosophy, and Anthroposophy intermingled with indigenous beliefs.76 It is also noteworthy that among the ali‘i, the majority of whom were members of the Anglican Episcopal or American Protestant churches, there are accounts of “unchristian” behavior. In 1887, Kalākaua’s sister, Princess Likelike, responded to a lava flow from the Mauna Loa volcano threatening the town of Hilo on the island of Hawai‘i by rejecting food, believing the akua (deity) Pele required her life as a sacrifice.77 Likelike had been educated by missionaries and was confirmed into the Episcopal Church in 1882, yet her Native faith had not been replaced by her participation in Christianity.78 Despite missionary claims of success in converting Native Hawaiians, indigenous beliefs had not been wholly supplanted by foreign religions. Notwithstanding his membership in the Anglican Church, Kalākaua, too, had his doubts about Christianity as it was taught and practiced by haole missionaries. In a letter written in Paris in August 1881, he reflected on missionary-based criticisms of his parties and pleasures. Viewing the city’s lively “modern” life, he asked “if ‘all these people’ were going to hell”: “Surely not! But what a contrast to our miserable bigoted community. All sober and down in the mouth keeping a wrong [S]abbath instead of a proper Sunday, the Pure are so pure that the impure should make the Sunday a day of mockery, with such rubbish trash that we have so long been [led] to believe, it is a wonder that we have not risen any higher than the common brute.”79 In another letter, written to his sister Lili‘uokalani from Cairo in June of the same year, the king again expressed his doubts about Christianity, this time in the context of a smallpox epidemic on the islands of O‘ahu and Kaua‘i: As you are a religious and praying woman, Oh! All the religious people praise you! But what is the use of prayer after 293 lives of our poor people have gone to their everlasting place[?] Is it to thank him for killing or is it to thank him for sending them to him or to the other place[?] . . . I never believed in the efficacy of prayer and consequently I never allowed myself to be ruled by the Churchmembers [sic] to allow a thanksgiving prayer to be offered to God for the good of the nation for in my opinion it is only a mockery. The idea of offering prayer when hundreds are dying around you. To save the life of the people is to work and not pray. To find and stop the cause of death of our people and not cry and whine like a child and say to [G]od “that it is good oh Lord that thou hath visited us thus.”80

Kalākaua’s questionable faith in Christianity and his revival of Native Hawaiian religious practices were expressed in the national symbols promoted during his reign.



Hawaiian National Art

Christian references were noticeably marginalized while images of sacred chiefly rule flourished, some clad in syncretic forms, generating new conceptions of indigenous leadership. Similar to transforming religion and art, Native Hawaiians revalued and repositioned another Western-introduced form of representation: published literature. Printing presses were first established by American missionaries at Kawaiaha‘o in Honolulu, O‘ahu (1822), and at Lahainaluna Seminary in West Maui (1834) to facilitate the education and conversion of Native Hawaiians. Eventually, newspapers and journals were founded that represented a range of opinions and served a variety of readerships. Some Native Hawaiians appropriated the literary form of the newspaper, claiming the space of journalism as a space of resistance, countering missionary, planter, and business writing in establishment papers. In her discussion of nationalist newspapers published in the nineteenth century, Chapin describes how literacy and technology empowered Native Hawaiians. Known as the “Editor King,” Kalākaua sponsored several Hawaiian language periodicals before and during his reign: Ka Hoku o Ka Pakipika (“The Star of the Pacific,” 1861–1863); the daily, Ka Manawa (“The Times,” 1870); and a literary journal, Ka Hoku o Ke Kai (“The Star of the Sea,” 1883–1884). These presses, among other Native publications, promoted indigenous self-determination and support of the monarchy, addressed social and health issues facing Native Hawaiians, celebrated indigenous culture, and kept readers abreast of international news. Ka Hoku o Ka Pakipika was the first Hawaiian language newspaper completely produced by Native Hawaiians and challenged haole characterization of indigenous Hawaiians as backward, uncivilized savages.81 Silva describes how Kalākaua, himself, wielded the power of the pen in other politicized publishing venues that bore directly on the king’s public art projects.82 As will be discussed in greater depth in the following chapters, Kalākaua issued the Kumulipo, an epic genealogical narrative that connected him to the akua and the creation of the universe, garnering confidence among his Native constituency in the authenticity of his leadership.83 In the 1880s, he also established Ka Papa Kū‘auhau o Nā Ali‘i (The Board of Genealogy of Hawaiian Chiefs), which published a report, Hoike a ka Papa Kuauhau o na Alii Hawaii (1884), detailing their activities in recording, collecting, and safeguarding genealogies, religious practices, indigenous histories, mele, and chiefly relics. Likewise, the Hale Nauā Society, founded by Kalākaua in 1886, was charged with “the revival of Ancient Sciences of Hawaii in combination with the promotion and advancement of Modern Sciences, Art, Literature, and Philanthropy.”84 It published annual reports documenting traditional knowledge as preserved in genealogies, material culture, and cultural practices. The society combined Freemasonry rituals and symbols with Native Hawaiian religious practices and continued and formalized in modern institutional garb the protection and production of cultural wisdom. Kalākaua’s literary activism and cultural revivals were sharply disparaged in the establishment presses, condemned as evidence of the Native leadership’s regression into darkness and savagery. Many criticisms were voiced through the widely circulating Hawaiian

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Gazette and the Friend, periodicals representing haole business and missionary views. They characterized his interest in antiquities and Native customs as ridiculous, sinister, and evidence of moral degeneration.85 These attacks only fueled the king’s efforts and provoked impassioned response. In its first report, the Hale Nauā Society defended its purposes and practices and dismissed the ignorance of Western historians.86 The publication and circulation of these reports demonstrated to Native Hawaiians the value of their culture and history; that it was not to be discarded and in fact could be secured and cultivated through Western-inspired institutions such as scholarly societies and publications. This was also true for visual art production, which gave rise to novel discursive forms.

Imaging the Hawaiian Nation As Native Hawaiians used paper and press to express their own views and values and deliver criticisms of their opponents, they similarly refigured and redeployed visual symbols, producing new expressive contexts. Nationalism was an effective strategy of resistance. National culture, as it was fashioned during the Kalākaua era, exemplified the “resistance of culture” generated through the complex interactions between indigenous, settler, and international communities and addressed a range of publics in diverse ways. It was shaped by social, political, and economic factors that developed through a century of contact with foreigners and the ways Native Hawaiians variously responded to their presence. As many scholars of Hawaiian history have observed, the primary issue facing Kalākaua and the key factor shaping his efforts to develop national culture was proving his legitimacy as a ruler to diverse audiences: Native Hawaiians who doubted his sacred authority as mō‘ī; the haole settler population who resisted monarchical rule; and international leaders whose recognition of the kingdom’s sovereignty he required. Nativism and Nationalism The following chapters detail how national art of the period addressed these different communities by advancing images of Hawai‘i as a distinctive and modern nation. As with national cultures generally, it formalized “a genre of claims, understandings, and grounds for recognizing, promoting and legitimizing peoplehood . . . and sovereignty.”87 Processes of cultural articulation in colonial contexts possess what Handler calls “entivity,” the conviction that an entity (e.g., a nation) is defined by unique characteristics. These characteristics provide “particular orientations of the world,” or ontologies that constitute the assumptions and interpretive frames that order peoples’ lives. They offer stability and coherence to social action. Such collective identities are selectively constituted so that certain essential characteristics are adopted and competing ones are rejected, marginalized, or resolved.88 This is not to say that Hawaiian national identity was characterized by continuity and boundedness, but rather that it presented certain historically conditioned declarations about cultural distinctiveness. The visual symbols and spaces of Hawaiian nationalist culture celebrated the vitality of Native tradition and a history of exalted lead-



Hawaiian National Art

ership. They referenced great chiefs of the past, presented revered images of indigenous values that had been long suppressed, and insisted on the continuity of the kingdom in its ever-changing, modernizing state. Kalākaua understood that the political survival of the Native population required building confidence in their culture. Nationalist art, circulating in conjunction with the products of his journalistic activism, was intended to preserve Native traditions and histories. Other cultural activities promoted by the king assisted these efforts. For instance, he practiced and promoted Hawaiian poetry and dance (in its traditional and innovative forms), which had been in steady decline since the early nineteenth century. He referred to hula, Hawaiian dance, as the “life-blood of his people” and formally called to Honolulu, expressly for his coronation in 1883, all the elderly Hawaiians who still knew the ancient chants.89 Because these art forms were important means of expressing royalist and nationalist sentiments and were intimately associated with Kalākaua, they were greeted with strong criticism from his political opponents. Despite vocal disapproval, these performances flourished, indicating the efficacy of the king’s cultural program. Similarly, Kalākaua rekindled indigenous visual arts through vigorous collecting and by initiating the manufacture of Hawaiian items such as ki-leaf (Cordyline terminalis) cloaks, cordage, sculpture, and featherwork.90 The king often showed foreign visitors his collection of antique feather cloaks and described his work to renew the art.91 Some of this activity was carried out through the Hale Nauā Society, which collected antiquities and enkindled the production of material culture such as fishhooks, plaiting, bark cloth (kapa), religious images, stone adzes, weapons, chiefly ornaments and garments, and netting (Figs. 1 and 2). These efforts coexisted with the king’s patronage of public monuments, palatial architecture, museums, and scholarly organizations, which

Figure 1. Netting, part of netted bag (kōkō—piko and hanai), Hale Nauā Society (AH Arch206i). Photograph by S. L. Kamehiro, 2001.

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Figure 2. Barkcloth (kapa) sample, Hale Nauā Society (AH Arch206v). Photograph by S. L. Kamehiro, 2001.

also contributed to the Hawaiian arts revival. The Kalākaua era witnessed an artistic renaissance that did not resign Native culture to dwell in the past; instead, it celebrated new artistic forms and concepts—in song, dance, literature, and visual culture—as these formalized the modern Hawaiian nation. One further literary example, Legends and Myths of Hawaii, published by Kalākaua in 1888, exemplifies his adroitness in adapting new expressive forms to shape the character of the nation and illuminates a reading of Hawaiian visual culture. Regarded as an authority on Hawaiian oral literature, the king authored this volume to lend substance to his cultural resurgence and to establish a national literature.92 In the book, he argued that the former Hawaiian religious and political system (the kapu system) was not necessarily oppressive, as many outsiders judged, but rather “a protection to the lives, property and dignity of the priesthood and nobility,” and that its overthrow in 1819 was not a “beneficent sign of Divine Intervention.”93 Throughout the volume, Kalākaua detailed the stories of heroic chiefs, referring to them as “noble knights,” and championed their ancient traditions. While Legends and Myths honored Hawaiian tradition and history, it recast them in a Victorian Gothic style.94 Making frequent reference to Western classical and medieval history and published only in English, the book addressed a predominantly European and American readership. It linked and likened Hawaiian history and literature to that of Europe and the United States. Hawaiian protagonists were not presented as “backwards” or “primitive” but were framed by heroic plots that provided non-Native readers with narratives and figures that recalled similar literary traditions in Euro-American writing. Further, Legends also aligned indigenous religion with the Judeo-Christian tradition by describing the Native theogony as “an independent and perhaps original version of a series of creation legends common in the remote past to the Cushite, Semite, and Aryan tribes, and was handed down quite as accurately as the Jewish version. . . . In fact, in some respects the Hawaiian seems to be more complete than the Jewish tradition.”95 National



Hawaiian National Art

visual culture projected a comparable tone and purpose as national literature, though, as will be shown, its meanings were conditioned by its own poetic. Internationalism and Hawaiian National Art Energetically advanced during Kalākaua’s reign, crowns, thrones, palaces, monuments, and museums were symbols and institutions that could be comprehended by local haole and international audiences. Western visual forms serving as emblems of the nation marked the king’s struggle to gain the acceptance and allegiance of non-Native residents, nodding to the cultural and social legacy of their presence in the kingdom, and these emblems indicated that Hawai‘i’s rulers were not so dissimilar to political leaders elsewhere in the civilized world. Perhaps the prevailing concern for the royal court, however, was securing international acknowledgment of his sovereign kingship. Kalākaua, like his royal Kamehameha predecessors Kauikeaouli, Alexander Liholiho, and Lota Kapuāiwa, realized the necessity of maintaining fruitful relations with nations abroad. Just as the contemporary Hawaiian sovereignty movement appeals to national and global communities for recognition,96 Kalākaua deepened his attention to foreign relations. In addition to gaining acceptance of the kingdom’s independence in the international sphere, he sought to curb American influence by forging relationships with European and Asian states. His image of nationhood was in part directed outward, premised on Hawai‘i’s right and responsibility to join the international community of nations. Hawaiian nationalism was tied to Hawaiian internationalism; it integrated visual forms and cultural institutions that denoted universal notions of modernity and civilization—what Orvar Löfgren (1989) calls the “international grammar of nationhood.” Accompanying global movements of goods and technologies, the images, institutions, and rituals defining national identities traveled widely, producing a common language of nationhood and an increased interdependence of relations between nations.97 Hawai‘i’s leaders consumed the tropes of nationhood and forged symbols that were comprehensible to the international community. Previous Hawaiian rulers engaged foreign diplomacy and adapted international symbols and technologies of nationhood, but Kalākaua raised it to a new level of intensity and visibility. He sought to image his progressive vision of the nation and meet the political and social challenges facing it. Operating in tandem with his public artworks, the king developed an expansive network of legations and consulates (numbering ninety-three by 1892) throughout the globe. Kalākaua also sponsored, from 1880 until 1887, a study abroad program for the purpose of instructing young Native Hawaiians who would later occupy leadership positions, especially in the foreign ministry.98 The king selected eighteen students to be educated in China, England, Italy, Japan, Scotland, and the United States. They studied engineering, law, foreign languages, medicine, military science, and the visual and performing arts. In 1882, Hawai‘i joined the World Postal Union (established in Bern, Switzerland in 1874), an international organization facilitating global cooperation in communications. The king’s numerous foreign relations activities also included sending a delegation to Tsar Alexander’s coronation in May 1883, to which Kalākaua had been

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Introduction

invited, as well as to Queen Victoria’s Golden Jubilee held in London in 1887; holding a Grand Requiem Mass in Honolulu in honor of the Spanish king Don Alfonso XII in January 1886, which was attended by nearly the entire diplomatic corps; and participating in numerous world fairs.99 Also informing Hawaiian internationalist art was Kalākaua’s world tour, undertaken in 1881. Considering himself a cosmopolitan ruler, Kalākaua was the first head of state in the world to circumnavigate the globe. The aims of the trip were to secure labor immigration agreements, enlarge the prestige of the Hawaiian monarchy, and to familiarize himself with royal practices in other countries.100 At his bon voyage banquet, attended by political and social leaders and foreign diplomats, Kalākaua stated, “Around this table are gathered people of many nations. In common with my predecessors, I desire the best welfare of all who gather under our flag in my dominions, and I believe that you who come from other lands, bringing with you the wealth, enterprise, and intelligence of those lands, sympathize with me in my desire to protect my native Hawaiian people, and strengthen my nation.”101 The leaders of China, Japan, Hong Kong, Thailand (Siam), Singapore, Burma, India, Egypt, Italy, England, Germany, Belgium, Austria, France, Spain, Portugal, and the United States received him.102 Through his travels, Kalākaua promoted his imperial ambitions. It was during an audience with the Japanese emperor that he proposed a “Union and Federation of Asiatic Nations and Sovereigns” intended to challenge Western domination in the Pacific and promote the international prestige and power of the Pacific nations. Kalākaua envisioned himself as “The Colossus of the Pacific,” the head of a Confederation of Polynesian States.103 The king used the occasion of his world tour, Tsar Alexander’s coronation, and Queen Victoria’s Jubilee to solicit material support through foreign investment and labor contracts, particularly with England (for South Asian laborers) and Japan. During this mission, he indicated to his court aide, Curtis Pi‘ehu Iaukea, the need to maintain the interest of other countries to prevent American annexation. As “Special Envoy and Minister Plenipotentiary to the Court of St. Petersburg” from 1883 to 1884, Iaukea’s task was to facilitate Hawai‘i’s economic expansion, promoting the nation’s resources to those who could take advantage of them. With this purpose, he traveled beyond Russia to Vienna, Belgrade, Budapest, Paris, London, and Rome. As “Envoy Extraordinary and Minister Plenipotentiary to the Court of St. James” for Queen Victoria’s Jubilee in 1887, Iaukea was charged with a similar objective, made more urgent by Kalākaua’s suspicions of plots to overthrow him, led by those with American allegiances.104 These various internationalist ventures and journeys extended Hawai‘i’s presence and visibility abroad. As the decade of the 1880s unfolded and internal, haole-led revolution seemed imminent, the king’s appeals to international actors were increasingly imperative for the kingdom’s survival. Kalākaua’s world tour and Iaukea’s voyages on behalf of the king are also significant in that, as Thomas suggests, travel is a “peculiarly modern activity, in so far as it entails expansive steps away from ‘traditional’ ties, and—more crucially and distinctively—an



Hawaiian National Art

attitude of extension and displacement towards those traditions. . . . [T]ravel has also been widely regarded—not least by anti- and postcolonial critics—as an enlarging and liberating process that unsettles the confidence of authority.”105 In his global cultural crossings, Kalākaua can be understood as bridging colonial peripheries as well as geographical boundaries. This voyaging, literally, and in terms of his incursions into the symbolic realm of modern internationalism, was an apt strategy for cultural and political resistance, as he and his kingdom seem to have garnered more positive, if often ambiguous, attention in overseas publications and travel literature, which was not as thoroughly steeped in missionary and business rhetoric emanating from within the Islands. Such accounts represented Kalākaua as a popular, educated, and capable ruler; Honolulu as an ordered, clean cosmopolitan city with modern technologies, architecture, and civic institutions; and, remarking on government, fashion, social life, and education, Hawaiian society as civilized and productive.106 It was in this open space that Kalākaua inserted his nationalist and internationalist agenda. Because of the ambivalence of colonial discourse, the visual and spatial signs of the Hawaiian nation disrupted what Homi Bhabha identifies as the stereotypical repetition of indigenous otherness required to “prove” the subordinate status of the colonized.107 Hawaiian nationhood celebrated Native tradition, history, and modernity. Hawaiian sovereigns’ notions of rulership had changed over the course of the nineteenth century. In addition to their own interpretations of monarchy, which were largely founded on indigenous conceptions of superior chiefly leadership, they had worked with many European and American political and economic advisers who contributed to developing the constitutional monarchy. With advances in communication and transportation technologies, high chiefs became progressively more familiar with the apparati and symbols of Asian, American, and European rule. International markers of nationness were adapted to suit chiefly rule: a coronation to publicly legitimize the Hawaiian leadership to local and global communities; a palace to identify the political, economic, and social core of the nation—the center of Hawai‘i’s mana; a permanent public monument to commemorate the nation’s founder and foremost hero, Kamehameha I, which provided an example and inspiration to future rulers; and a museum to house the nation’s past and promote its intellectual contributions to world history, science, and civilization. These manifestations of nationalist visual culture are selected because, though they similarly address the themes and issues introduced above, they operated through different forms (i.e., icons and royal regalia, architecture and sacred spaces, commemorative monuments, and public civic institutions) and therefore produced different meanings. In all instances, though in unique ways, these examples speak to cultural intersections and historical processes, claims about distinctiveness and commonality, and the power of objects, institutions, and public display to create meaning and enable action.

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The Art of Kingship



Kalākaua’s Coronation

The orchestration of Kalākaua’s coronation in 1883 speaks to the relationship between power and spectacle and how these are integral to political processes. Commonly acknowledged as one of the most elaborate, costly, and well-attended ceremonies staged in the Islands, this rite of succession, the only event of its kind in Hawaiian history, was a grand and imperative public proclamation. The king and his advisers crafted a ritualized space and selected the coronation regalia, which, infused with the solemnity of the ceremonial, formed a signifying complex communicating the legitimacy of the Hawaiian leadership to local and foreign audiences. Facing increasingly overt and hostile threats to his administration by a predominantly haole opposition and questions regarding his genealogical claims to the throne posed by some of his Native constituency, Kalākaua integrated visual markers of Native Hawaiian chiefly leadership and Western authority to affirm the modernity of the Hawaiian nation and the legitimacy of its ruler and chiefly institutions. Rather than attempt to impress the local haole opposition, which was only to be further alienated and outraged by the expense and sentiment of the event, the king invited his Native subjects to witness his investiture as a good (pono) and true heir to the throne. To haole sympathizers and international audiences, the visual and performative content of the coronation emphasized Hawai‘i’s leadership as comparable to those of the world’s respected nations. Asserting the nature and extent of his kingship, the coronation and regalia constituted a set of visual statements promoting the major themes of Kalākaua’s reign: the need to preserve the national unity achieved by the first king of the unified Hawaiian archipelago, Kamehameha I, in order to sustain independence; Hawaiian conceptions of the sacred and secular authority of the king (ka mō‘ī), as well as his responsibility and capacity to properly care for the people; the perpetuity of the Hawaiian crown in general and the legitimacy of the Kalākaua (Keawe-a-Heulu) Dynasty in particular; Kalākaua as a military leader and Hawai‘i as a nonsubmissive nation; and Hawai‘i’s expanding role and increasing esteem in the international sphere.

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The Art of Kingship

Proposal for the Coronation Steps to promote and finance a public coronation ceremony were introduced and passed during the Legislative Assembly Session of 1880. The “Act to Provide for the Coronation of the Kings of Hawaii” reads as follows: Whereas it has been the custom from time immemorial to crown the Kings of Hawaii, and perpetuate the dignity of the Throne; and Whereas the Constitution fails to provide for such an Act, and it is advisable that such a Coronation be provided for by the laws of the Kingdom; therefore Be it Enacted by the King and Legislative Assembly of the Hawaiian Islands, in the Legislature of the Kingdom assembled: Section 1. That His Majesty the King, in Privy Council, shall ascertain and proclaim by public proclamation a time when he shall be crowned and he, in Privy Council, may make such rules and regulations for such occasion as he shall deem proper, and all the expenses attending such event shall be paid for out of any moneys in the Treasury, not otherwise appropriated in the Appropriation Bill, provided they shall not exceed the sum of Ten Thousand Dollars. Section 2. This Act shall become a law from the date of its passage. Approved this 9th day of August, A. D. 1880. Kalakaua R.1

Additional funds were appropriated in the 1882 legislative session. Some writers suggest the proposal for and organization of the coronation were largely influenced by Celso Caesar Moreno, a naturalized American citizen of Italian origin who arrived in Honolulu on 14 November 1879 and who remained there as an active presence for over nine months. Moreno and Kalākaua began their close relationship in 1874, when they met in San Francisco. When Moreno traveled to Hawai‘i a few years later, he spent a great deal of time at the palace, serving the king as an unofficial adviser and eventually serving a brief tenure as minister of foreign affairs from 14 August to 19 August 1880.2 Others attribute the masterminding of the event to Walter Murray Gibson, acting in his role as premier (kuhina nui) from 1882 to 1887 and minister of foreign affairs from 1882 to 1886.3 Rather than recognizing Kalākaua’s contributions to the coronation, many observers credit—or alternatively ascribe blame to—“mischievous” haole pursuing their own agendas and aggrandizement. Yet even Kalākaua’s harshest opponents recognized his savvy political acumen,4 and it is unlikely that he was passively manipulated simply to serve others’ interests. It is equally doubtful that his haole cohorts fully understood the connotations of the symbols included in the investiture ceremony, which suggests Kalākaua played a significant role in arranging his coronation. Promoting a formal performance of his accession was consistent with the king’s other efforts to assist Native Hawaiians, garner pride in and loyalty to the Native leader-

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ship, and enhance the esteem of the nation abroad. In the same legislative session providing for the coronation, nobles and representatives passed measures benefiting Native Hawaiians, materially celebrating the kingship, and encouraging nationalist sentiment. In 1880, these included acts providing for the regalia of the King’s Guard; the perpetuation of the genealogy of the chiefs of Hawai‘i, which included “establishing the arms and insignia of chief families, searching for ancient relics[,] . . . and . . . ascertaining and preserving from violation the ancient places of sepulture of the chiefs”; a national coinage of gold and silver bullion of equal quality to that of the United States; the education of Hawaiian youths abroad, preparing them to lead domestic and foreign affairs; the completion and furnishing of ‘Iolani Palace; and a large increase in the financial support of the royal family.5 The coronation amplified the monarchy’s work to combat the growing influence of non-Native politicians. In response to what they contended were foreign designs to take control of the government, several candidates running for the 1882 Legislature (e.g., Walter Murray Gibson, Simon K. Kaai, J. W. Kalua, Edward K. Lilikalani, H.W. Lahilahi, and J. A. Nāhaku, among others) recommended that no haole be elected (using the Hawaiian language newspaper Ko Hawaii Pae Aina as their public voice).6 In the government mouthpiece, the Pacific Commercial Advertiser, Gibson attributed Native Hawaiians’ lack of confidence in haole representatives to “the unfortunately growing feeling of antagonisms of races” driven by foreign attitudes and to Native Hawaiians’ desire to protect their future.7 Gibson’s and the Native candidates’ platform invariably affirmed the preservation of Hawaiian independence, indicating the extent to which this was a foremost concern for the Hawaiian population.8 The coronation, then, must be understood within the context of mounting concerns to preserve national autonomy and promote Kalākaua’s “Hawaii for Hawaiians” policies. As part of the king’s efforts to safeguard the “Hawaiianness” of the nation, the coronation underscored the hierarchical nature of the chiefly leadership. Kalākaua was well aware of the honor due Hawaiian chiefs (ali‘i nui) and undoubtedly sought to replace memories of his pedestrian oath-swearing ceremony several years earlier when he was elected king. Kalākaua and Dowager Queen Emma (widow of Alexander Liholiho) had been contenders for the throne in 1874. On 12 February, Kalākaua won by a large majority in the Legislature (with a vote of thirty-nine to six). A riot immediately followed the announcement of the election results; it was initiated by Emma’s supporters, who favored her genealogical claim to lead the nation and who considered Kalākaua’s aspirations maha‘oi (presumptuous). Focusing their violent attack on Native representatives who supported Kalākaua, several people were badly injured, with one fatality. Rioters caused extensive damage to the courthouse where the vote took place, and American and British naval troops from three warships docked in Honolulu Harbor were asked to quell the disturbance. On 13 February, Kalākaua took the oath of office without ceremony or ornamentation in the modest setting of his home.9 The coronation ceremony was, therefore, intended to provide a proper investiture, appropriate to his station.



The Art of Kingship

In an age of increasing international democratization, Kalākaua justified the celebration of monarchy by comparing it to the leadership of other civilized nations. For Kalākaua, the glorification of the chiefly hierarchy was key to maintaining independence and encouraging Native trust in his authority. Gibson’s speech presented to the Legislative Assembly in defense of the coronation reveals some of the primary objectives of the proposal: And shall we, upholders of a monarchy with the example of enlightened monarchical Europe, attach no importance to such a ceremonial? Shall we not, rather—sustained by the declared opinion . . . that the monarchy was essential to the best welfare of the Hawaiian people, strengthen the Hawaiian throne by taking measures to provide for a crowning consummation? . . . Hawaiians will develop national spirit more and more by the increase of reverence for the Throne. He did not regard the person of the incumbent, whether Prince or Princess, adult or minor—his purpose was to honor and strengthen the monarchy, as a paramount measure towards the maintenance of the independence of the State, and the preservation of the race. . . . You Hawaiians, in crowning your King, will raise up your nation before the eyes of the world. You will assert your patriotism—you will prove your national spirit—and you will make a solemn appeal to the great powers of the earth for the perpetual guarantee of your independence. . . . And this, furthermore, is a measure that rebukes the spirit of those who hope for the decline of this nation, and the final surrender of its autonomy.10

In her memoirs, Lili‘uokalani, Kalākaua’s sister and heir, also communicated the serious consequence of the event, writing, “It was wise and patriotic to spend money to awaken in the people a national pride.” She also indicated the broad-based support sought: “This was very properly intended by the king to be a jubilee year with his people, and at the grand celebration nothing was to be left undone which could contribute to the general enjoyment. All the people, high or low, rich or poor, from Hawaii to Kauai, were to be made welcome at Honolulu; and elaborate preparations were made for their reception.”11 Those representing business and missionary interests vocally criticized plans for the coronation, condemning the excessive expense of inauthentic theatrics. New York–born John Mott-Smith, appointed a noble in the Legislature in 1876, for example, “deplored the attempt to introduce this ceremony of coronation, as an innovation upon Hawaiian manners and customs being new to Hawaiian history and to Hawaiian sentiment,” what he called “the engrafting of foreign customs into those of the Hawaiian nation.”12 The cost, however, was justified on a variety of grounds. Some argued the event would enhance Hawai‘i’s visibility to other nations, resulting in better trade relations, increased prosperity, and a guarantee of independence.13 Responding to the issue of authenticity,

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Gibson argued the coronation was a continuation of ancient Hawaiian investiture ceremonies: “[W]hen Hawaiian aliis or chiefs were installed in the sovereign office they were endowed by a ceremonial accompanied with an anointment and the decoration of the maile, and this form of investiture, called poni in Hawaiian, we may translate into English by the word coronation.”14 He gave further credibility to the idea by writing that both Kamehameha I and his successor, Liholiho, were installed in office in the ancient manner.15 In addition to offering precedence for the coronation in Hawaiian custom, Gibson explained that previous Hawaiian monarchs entertained the idea of a modernized installation ceremony, beginning with Kauikeaouli, as evidenced in a law published 14 August 1850. Likely based on a letter penned by Kalākaua summarizing the coronation ceremonies executed or contemplated by his predecessors, Gibson described Kauikeaouli’s acquisition of a European-styled bejeweled gold crown and presented evidence of his, Alexander Liholiho’s, and Lota Kapuāiwa’s coronation plans.16 A modern ceremony more effectively communicated Kalākaua’s policy of advancement and progress for Hawaiians, favorably comparing them to contemporary monarchical traditions, of which Kalākaua was keenly aware after receiving regal treatment in foreign courts during his world tour of 1881.17 Supporters of the coronation clearly understood the value of symbols. Gibson argued that its opponents failed to recognize the symbolic significance of such a ceremony. In an article published in the Pacific Commercial Advertiser (10 June 1882), he said critics of the coronation take simply an utilitarian view of the ceremony of coronation, and regard the symbols accompanying such a ceremony as valueless, and as mere baubles. And when the Hon. Nobles put round their neck collars, and place on their breasts insignia, that are symbols of decoration and honors bestowed by the Sovereign, do they regard them as valueless, and mere baubles? Is there no value in symbols? What would be the marriage ceremony without the symbol of the gold ring? So with the coronation of a great chief, the ceremony should be solemnised with the appropriate symbols and surroundings.

Kalākaua’s earlier lackluster oath-swearing ceremony was undoubtedly judged to be insufficient, and a full public acknowledgment of the king’s rulership was considered not only appropriate but necessary. A grand celebration would help Kalākaua earn respect among the Native Hawaiians. The coronation proposal passed by a large majority (thirtyfour to eight) in the Hawaiian Legislature. It is noteworthy that among those who objected, six were haole representatives; the Native Hawaiian majority was highly supportive of the event.18 They recognized the value of the coronation as a constructive and convincing means of validating the king’s right to rule. In October 1882, Kalākaua announced the date of his coronation to be 12 February 1883, the ninth anniversary of his election,19 and the day was declared a national holiday. Related activities occupied nearly two full weeks from the ceremony proper to the Grand



The Art of Kingship

Lū‘au, a full-dress feast and hula performance on 24 February. The program consisted of the coronation ceremony, the unveiling of the monument to King Kamehameha, a state dinner, horse races, illuminations and fireworks displays, an “open house” and ho‘okupu (a gift presentation ceremony honoring a chief) at the king’s palace, a grand ball, a regatta and diving contest followed by evening hula performances, and a formal lū‘au followed by another extensive hula program.20 It was a full schedule of events designed to leave a lasting impression. Prior to the crowning ceremony, the Pacific Commercial Advertiser kept the public informed of the upcoming events and of notable individuals traveling to Honolulu for the coronation; merchants placed numerous notices advertising the arrival of French, American, and other imported fashions shipped expressly for the occasion; and descriptions were published of receptions, banquets, speeches, and exchanges of royal orders and gifts involving both local organizations and representatives from other nations. This last item contributed to the public’s sense of the international importance of the king’s coronation and to the growing enthusiasm preceding the event. Particular attention was paid to the Japanese delegation, led by Special Ambassador Sugi Magoshichiro. 21 Japan’s presence was important to Kalākaua, who perceived modernizing yet traditional and imperial Japan to be a model for Hawai‘i. In his writings, he noted the cultural affinities between the two countries and later sought to cultivate close relations. On the king’s behalf, Gibson made a toast to the Japanese emperor and ambassadorial suite, which was publicized in the Advertiser (10 February 1883) two days before the coronation: I have the honor to propose the health of an illustrious potentate, whose royal initiative in his country’s reforms—the ability of whose government and the enterprise of whose people fill the civilized world with admiration. This Sovereign’s realm—Japan, which but a few years ago was devoted to isolation and derived her national inspiration almost solely from ancient tradition, to-day inspired by her new imperial spirit, properly claims rank with the foremost of enlightened and progressive states. Her leading policy is progression, both at home and abroad. This is illustrated by her able and enlightened diplomacy throughout the world, which has recently reached our shores, on a mission of courtesy and good will to our Sovereign.

Although Japan was the only country to send a special ambassador to honor the event, consular and diplomatic officials representing states such as Denmark, France, Germany, Great Britain, Italy, Mexico, the Netherlands and Belgium, Norway, Portugal, Russia, Sweden, and the United States attended and were officially received.22 The coronation did not escape international attention; it was described and illustrated in at least two British newspapers, the Illustrated London News (7 April 1883) and the Graphic (28 April 1883) (Figs. 3 and 11), and drew notice in several American publications.

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Figure 3. “The Coronation of King Kalakaua at Honolulu, Sandwich Islands,” the Graphic, 28 April 1883. Courtesy Bernice Pauahi Bishop Museum (CP104137).



The Art of Kingship

Figure 4. “Keli‘iponi Hale,” the coronation pavilion, 1883. Courtesy Archives of Hawai‘i (15567).

The Regalia of Kings and Nations A large grandstand built to hold approximately 3,500 people was erected on the grounds of ‘Iolani Palace (Figure 3, top).23 Accommodations for an additional two thousand spectators were made in the grounds below the grandstand. The grandstand was decorated with the shields of foreign nations, including Belgium, Chile, China, France, Great Britain, Japan, Norway, Peru, Portugal, Spain, and Sweden, in addition to that of Hawai‘i, each flanked by their respective national flags. In the center of this space, an ornate open pavilion named “Keli‘iponi Hale” (Fig. 4) was erected to house the coronation event, connected to the main entrance of Kalākaua’s ‘Iolani Palace by a raised causeway.24 This provided a restricted space to be entered only by members of the royal family and individuals directly involved in the ceremony. The coronation pavilion integrated Hawaiian, Asian, and European architectural forms. The Hawaiian Gazette described the structure as “orientalist” in appearance. The surmounting dome was derivative of South Asian architecture, of which Kalākaua was fond, and the two large amphoras flanking the pavilion entrance were of East Asian design. The reeded columns and upwardly pitched base of the dome constituted additional stylistic imports. Polychromed shields of eight nations— the United States, Great Britain, Germany, Russia, the Netherlands, Austria, Italy, and Hawai‘i—embellished the arched panels of the dome.

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While visual references to other nations were pervasive, these were encompassed by Hawaiian elements. Native ki-leaf wreaths contained each of the foreign flag-shield combinations decorating the grandstand. The octagonal design of the pavilion and dome symbolized the unified eight major islands of the Hawaiian archipelago (Hawai‘i, Maui, Lāna‘i, O‘ahu, Kaho‘olawe, Moloka‘i, Kaua‘i, and Ni‘ihau), which framed the insignia of the American and European states. Likewise, eight columns supported the dome. A colorful fresco executed by Messrs. Buchmann and Rupprecht representing the Hawaiian coat of arms occupied the center of the ceiling. The coat of arms (Plate 2) was used extensively during Kalākaua’s reign. It originated in the 1840s when Kauikeaouli sent a delegation to the United States, France, and Great Britain to negotiate treaties recognizing Hawaiian independence. Kalākaua later redesigned the emblem.25 Roger Rose describes the revised design, prepared just prior to the coronation: This version . . . incorporate[s] the Crown of Hawai‘i, the initials ‘K. R.’ for Kalākaua Rex, and a representation of the Order of Kamehameha (bottom). . . . The quartered shield bears red, white, and blue stripes representing the eight inhabited islands, and two pūlo‘ulo‘u staves or emblems of taboo. The triangular flag and crossed spears forming the central escutcheon are ancient chiefly insignia, while the supporters, holding a kāhili and spear, are the chiefly twins, Kameeiamoku and Kamanaawa. They are dressed in feather cloaks and helmets allegedly copied from actual specimens collected by Captain Cook in 1778–1779. The scroll bears an early version of the national motto, the third word not yet having changed from ka to ke for grammatical euphony. Completing the Hawaiian symbolism, the background is an open feather cloak, whose crossing lines represent the undernetting to which the feathers are attached.26

The National Motto occupying the blue ribbon above the Order of Kamehameha insignia, “Ua mau ka ea o ka ‘āina i ka pono,” translates as “The life of the land is perpetuated (or reposes) in righteousness” or “The life breath of the country has endured through rightness.”27 The names and reign dates of Hawaiian monarchs from Kamehameha I to Kalākaua adorned the eight interior panels of the dome; each name was painted in gold letters, encircled by a wreath28 supported by two palm leaves, and capped with a golden crown. Over the pavilion entrance was written, “February 12th, 1883, The day on which His Majesty King Kalakaua was Crowned.” The finial atop the dome was fashioned in the manner of a Native Hawaiian spear. The pavilion and grandstand defined a distinctly international space, the center of which was Hawai‘i. The presence of the state symbols of other nations suggested their acknowledgment of Hawai‘i’s rightful place in the fellowship of nations and its sovereign as equal companion to the rulers of the world. At the same time, the coronation setting recognized domestic concerns about the future of the nation. Referencing the eight major inhabited Hawaiian Islands, the octagonal structure of the pavilion emphasized the necessity of internal unity to guarantee independence. Moreover, the interior of the



The Art of Kingship

feather cloak, metonymically symbolizing the king, featured on the coat of arms painted on its ceiling, figuratively declared the enveloping presence of the monarch; implicit in the national motto, the security and unity of the nation was to be found in the “rightness” of the king. The names of Hawaiian rulers inscribed in the pavilion also lent credence to the perpetuation of the traditional chiefly hierarchy by the Kalākaua Dynasty, seamlessly linking it to the Kamehameha lineage. The coronation began at ten o’clock in the morning, with estimates of eight to ten thousand people in attendance. The ceremony combined Hawaiian and European elements throughout. At the commencement of the ceremony, Western trumpets and Hawaiian conch shells sounded, announcing the presence of the king and queen.29 At intervals throughout the ceremony, interspersed with Western choral singing, an elderly Hawaiian woman performed a chant extending high praises to Kalākaua, proclaiming his virtues and achievements.30 The coronation regalia, carried in procession by high chiefs, chiefesses, and government officials, also blended European and Hawaiian forms; these consisted of the pūlo‘ulo‘u (insignia of chiefly sanctity and privilege), palaoa (chiefly neck ornaments), the Kāhili (feather standard) of Pili,31 the Torch of Iwikauikaua (the emblem of the Kalākaua Dynasty), the famed ‘ahu‘ula (feather cloak) of Kamehameha I, the Sword and Ring of State, the Royal Scepter, and the Royal Crowns. The inclusion of European royal symbols was not intended merely to impress foreigners, as some have suggested;32 rather, these were presented as authentic components of a modern monarchy that simultaneously maintained a solid footing in the indigenous political structure and represented Native Hawaiian values. This idea was corroborated in the public proclamation by John Makini Kapena (whose title was noble and marshall of the household) of Kalākaua’s qualifications as king in both Hawaiian and non-Hawaiian terms. As the investiture began, Kapena announced Kalākaua’s titles and chiefly ranks: Princes, Nobles, Representatives, and People of Hawaii assembled—I here proclaim unto you that David Laamea, Kamanakapuu, Mahinulani, Naloiaehuokalani, Lumialani, Kalakaua, the King, Generalissimo, Ke Alii Kapu, Hoano, Ka wela, Ka moe, Ka Ikuhaipuhilaninuu, Wohi Kuakahili, Haku o ka Poni ana i Moi, Haku o ka Ohiako o me ka Palaoa Pae, Kukuiaikeawakea, Kama Alii Hanau o Ka Aina, Grand Master of the Royal Order of Kamehameha 1st, Grand Master of the Royal Order of Kalakaua, Grand Master of the Royal Order of Kapiolani, Grand Master of the Royal Order of The Crown of Hawaii, Knight of the Order of Francis Joseph of Austria, Knight of the Order of St. Lazarus and St. Maurice of Italy, Knight of the Order of the Red Eagle of Prussia, Knight of the Order of Daunebrog of Denmark, Knight of the Imperial Order of the Chrysanthemum of Japan,

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Knight of the Order of the Crown of Siam, Knight of the Order of St. Michael and St. George of England[,] Knight of the Order of Leopold of Belgium[,] Knight of the Order of Vasa of Sweden and Norway[,] Knight of the Order of the Conception of Portugal[,] Knight of the Order of Charles XII of Spain[,] Knight of the Order of the Lion of the Netherlands[,] Knight of the Order of Liberator of Venezuela and Bolivia; President of the Privy Council of State; the Son of the Alii Kapaakea, and the Alii Keohokalole, is the rightful occupant of the Hawaiian Throne, and Sovereign Chief of the Hawaiian Islands and their Dependencies, as heretofore claimed by his predecessors, chosen by the Nobles and Representatives of the Kingdom; and that you render unto His Majesty all fealty and loyal obedience under the laws of the Realm.33

This proclamation informed the presentation and bestowal of royal regalia, starting with the Native symbols of rulership. Each emblem bore distinct meanings affirming the Hawaiian chieftaincy. The Pu¯lo‘ulo‘u Po‘omaikelani, elder sister of Kalākaua’s queen, Kap‘iolani, presented the coronation pūlo‘ulo‘u (Figure 5), a gift to Kalākaua from Captain Alfred N. Tripp (who later that year was appointed the king’s special commissioner for central and western Polynesia), crafted by Wenner and Company of Honolulu. This was a contemporary version of a kapu stick, a bark-cloth covered ball attached to the top of a staff or spear that was carried before a sacred chief, set before a chiefly residence or religious structure, or erected at places frequented by high chiefs, as an insignia of kapu—sanctity and chiefly privilege—and a warning against trespass.34 Seven feet two inches in length, the coronation pūlo‘ulo‘u consisted of a shaft of narwhal tusk surmounted by a golden globe. A gold plate displaying the coat of arms in colored enamel, the Hawaiian crown, and the national motto engraved on a golden ribbon hung from the sphere. As an investiture insignia, the pūlo‘ulo‘u conveyed the kapu right of the Kalākaua Dynasty to occupy the throne. Announcing the presence of a high chief, pūlo‘ulo‘u generally required those in his or her presence to show the appropriate gestures of humility. If a chief possessed the kapu moe, people were compelled to prostrate themselves because, as Sahlins has noted, the most sacred chiefs, “like the sun, could not be gazed upon without injury.”35 Among other kapu in this complex system were the kapu a noho, the “squatting” kapu, and the kapu puhi kanaka or kapu wela, which required the execution, by burning, of those who failed to adhere to the kapu.36 A chief ’s kapu—and therefore rank, status, and privilege—was inherited from his or her ancestors, explaining the great importance of genealogical reckoning. Kalākaua’s golden pūlo‘ulo‘u denoted his inherited divine status and visually reiterated the king’s sacred honors announced by Kapena: “Ke Alii Kapu”



The Art of Kingship

Figure 5. Coronation pūlo‘ulo‘u (center) displayed in the Throne Room of ‘Iolani Palace on the occasion of Kalākaua’s Jubilee, 1886. Kāhili flank the thrones and framed royal orders are mounted on the wall behind the dais. Courtesy Archives of Hawai‘i (22520).

(the kapu chief), “Hoano” (the honoring kapu), “Ka wela” (the burning kapu), “Ka moe” (the prostrating kapu), among others. Displaying the pūlo‘ulo‘u among other Native Hawaiian symbols of rulership, Kalākaua defended his kingship against those—especially supporters of the Kamehameha chiefly line—who argued that his genealogy was insufficient.37 Its presentation publicly validated the sanctity of the Kalākaua Dynasty and proved it rivaled and legitimately succeeded that of the Kamehamehas. Lili‘uokalani made clear that one of the purposes of the coronation was to introduce and verify the new line of rulers: “It was necessary to confirm the new family ‘Stirps’—to use the words of our Constitution—by a celebration of unusual impressiveness. . . . [T]he direct line of ‘Kamahamehas’ [sic] having become extinct, it was succeeded by the ‘Keawe-a-Heulu’ line, its founder having been first cousin to the father of Kamahameha [sic].”38 Demonstrating the extent to which Kalākaua felt the need to defend his royal claims is an article published on the last day of the coronation festivities by the haole-run

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Hawaiian language newspaper, Ka Nupepa Kuokoa (“The Independent Newspaper”). The article detailed the “correct” ranks of chiefs and their sacred attributes (kapu). The writer warned, It is very important for the nation at this time to consider the true rank of its aliis. . . . And let no living person imagine that because the old chiefly ancestors are dead, and those who kept the genealogies have passed away, that therefore he can meddle with the foundation and make himself rank as a high chief. To attempt such a thing would be shameless effrontery. Yet there are those who are shamelessly striving to do this very thing, and their unbecoming audacity must be condemned. . . . The sacred attributes (Kapu) of the old chiefs of Hawaii nei that have been maintained in their purity have by no means perished, and their descendants now living have a right to lay claim to them. But the descendants of those high chiefs (Alii Nui) who have formed unions with those of a lower rank than themselves, and their offspring with those still lower in rank, and so on down until they have intermarried with commoners, can by no means claim for themselves these sacred attributes (Kapu). And yet they are assuming these dignities, whilst they utterly lack the flavor and awesomeness of chiefly rank, and to all appearances are of common blood. Thus it is unbecoming to impute these titles to those who have no right to them. For a clique of individuals to seek to make sacred, to ascribe to or confer these sacred dignities upon one who has not title to them, is a fraud, a theft, and such an attempt will confer no attribute of sacredness, no dread personal inviolability upon those who do not rightfully inherit them from remote antiquity.39

This author declared a complete lack of confidence in Kalākaua’s Board of Genealogy of Hawaiian Chiefs, whose function was to document and authenticate chiefly ancestry (provided for in the Legislative Assemblies of 1880 and 1882).40 The “genealogical trial,” as it came to be known, was publicly tried in Hawaiian newspapers such as Ko Hawaii Pae Aina, Kuokoa, Elele, and Poakula. Kalākaua was accused of lacking the appropriate chiefly mana to be king, because neither his birth parents nor his adopted (hānai) parents possessed the requisite rank and privilege.41 Needless to say, Kalākaua sought to present concrete evidence of his exalted lineage. In order to be accepted into the Papa Ali‘i—the ranking body of high chiefs—and to enjoy the privileges and prerogatives of such status, nine qualifications had to be fulfilled. Principal among these was the possession of a genealogy that traced back to the god Kāne, foremost of the four great Hawaiian gods, through either the Ulu or Nana-ulu lines. Holding such a lineage placed one among the hoali‘i, or high chiefs descended from Kāne, distinct from those lower-ranking chiefs who could not claim such descent.42 Kalākaua’s Board of Genealogy and Royal Genealogical Society, whose membership was limited to those who could substantiate their noble ancestry, responded to attacks on his lineage. The Kumulipo,43 which Kalākaua published under the title He Pule Hoolaa Alii in



The Art of Kingship

1889, is a cosmogonic chant that describes the origin of life and traces the divine ancestry of Lonoikamakahiki, also known as Ka ‘Ī‘imamao, Ka ‘Īamamao, Kalaninui‘īmamao, Kalaninui‘omamao, and Kalaninui ‘Īamamao.44 Lonoikamakahiki was the great chief from whom Kalākaua claimed descent through the very popular and famous fifteenth- or sixteenth-century chief of Hawai‘i, ‘Umi, son of Līloa, and grandson of Kiha.45 The Kumulipo was considered one of the king’s strongest claims to the throne. Folklore scholar Martha Beckwith suggests the chant was composed ca. 1700, when Lonoikamakahiki was dedicated in the heiau (temple) and given the wela (burning), hoano (honoring), and moe (prostrating) kapu that granted him divine status, and which Kalākaua claimed to inherit.46 To dispel any skepticism regarding Kalākaua’s kingship, the coronation ceremony foregrounded the pūlo‘ulo‘u as the first of the investiture regalia that visually demonstrated his exalted kapu status. Pūlo‘ulo‘u also traditionally identified a place of refuge. In the official coronation account published by the Pacific Commercial Advertiser, the description of the emblem stated that the pūlo‘ulo‘u “is the emblem of protection. In ancient times spears, from each of which were suspended a ball of kapa, were set up to indicate that the space thus enclosed was a refuge to which any one guilty of a crime might fly and be safe from unlawful punishment. Placed now at the right of the throne, and its effigy borne on the national coat of arms, it symbolizes the protection that the laws afford to all.”47 The king, in his role as sacred chief, promised to maintain the country as a sanctuary for Hawaiians—he assured his Native subjects of their safety and future. The Palaoa Po‘omaikelani next presented a palaoa (or niho palaoa) to Kalākaua as another of “the symbols of ancient supreme Chieftaincy.” A palaoa was a valuable personal ornament owned by a chief: a pendant in the shape of an arched form sometimes likened to a tongue or an extended chin and mouth (as is present on some Hawaiian sculpture), usually suspended from coils of braided human hair. These ornaments derive their name from the material used for some precontact examples, which were made from the teeth (niho) of the sperm whale (palaoa). When such a mammal beached itself on the shore, it was considered the property of the chief. Palaoa were worn in battle and during occasions of ceremonial display.48 Precisely what the palaoa represented is unclear. One recent interpretation identifies the underarching, upward-curving crescent shape as a vessel of mana. Wearing the ornament signified one’s chiefly status and power. Further, when worn with a downward-arching crescent helmet, the two forms framed the head “contain[ing] the mana and aura, the essence of the ali‘i.”49 The specific palaoa featured in the coronation is uncertain. While the Pacific Commercial Advertiser elaborated on each item of royal regalia used in the ceremony, it only briefly mentioned the palaoa. These ornaments were quite scarce by the late nineteenth century and had not been produced for some time. There are two reasonable hypotheses regarding the coronation palaoa. Perhaps Kalākaua used an unusual niho palaoa that

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Figure 6. Niho palaoa made of elephant ivory. This pendant was part of the Hawaiian National Museum collection (BPBM 1287). Photograph by Seth Joel. Courtesy Bernice Pauahi Bishop Museum (XG76903).

was in the Hawaiian National Museum, to which he had easy access (Fig. 6; Catalogue no. 265). Made of elephant ivory, this item was more than three times the size of typical precontact and contact-era examples; it must have been intended for display in extraordinary circumstances. Elephant ivory was quite rare in the Hawaiian Islands, obtained through trade with Asia since the late eighteenth century, and therefore highly valued.50 This palaoa would have been fitting as a chiefly presentation piece for the coronation. Another likely alternative was the palaoa named “Nanikōkī,” also housed in the Hawaiian National Museum at the time (Catalogue no. 350). Emma Metcalf Beckley (later Nākuina), the curator of the museum, wrote of this palaoa in her catalogue: “The most prized of three necklets, having been used as a badge of office from the earliest chiefs. It was worn by the famous Keeaumoku in the battle of Kaohai, and was the cause of the death of Kiwalao the King, and rival of Kamehameha.”51 This particular ornament, described by Native Hawaiian historian Samuel Kamakau as “the palaoa of chieftainship,” was believed to have been the possession of the famed chief Līloa, subsequently inherited by his son ‘Umi. Possession of Nanikōkī was ultimately the cause of a war between ‘Umi and Kulukulu‘a, the chief of the Hilo District of the island of Hawai‘i, which resulted in ‘Umi uniting two chiefdoms.52 Within the context of the coronation, Kalākaua, if he did in fact use this palaoa, presented the chiefly precedence for not only the unity required for chiefdoms (or nations) of consequence, but also his distinguished chiefly heritage through his descent from ‘Umi. In Hawaiian understanding, objects are imbued with



The Art of Kingship

the mana of those with whom they are associated. Through time, chiefly objects embody the cumulative power and sanctity of all those with whom they are affiliated and become quite powerful, in and of themselves. The coronation palaoa was therefore quite meaningful. While one can only speculate as to which palaoa was featured in the coronation ceremony, it is clear that Kalākaua was acutely aware of its significance, further indicated by his revival of their manufacture in the 1880s.53 The Kāhili of Pili The Kāhili of Pili was another of the Hawaiian chiefly regalia featured in the coronation. Kāhili (see Fig. 5) are feather standards symbolizing royalty that consist of branches of feather clusters forming a cylinder (hulumanu) attached to the top of a pole or spear usually made of kauila wood (Alphitonia ponderosa).54 Their size ranged from handheld forms, two to three feet in length, to extraordinarily large examples, twenty to thirty feet tall, used on important ceremonial occasions. They were the sole prerogative of chiefs, who were always accompanied by kāhili and kāhili bearers (called pa‘a kāhili). Feathers were the consummate valuables for chiefs. They were among the primary forms of tribute from the maka‘āinana (commoners) to the principal chief during his annual circuit of his territories. Feathers were fashioned into a variety of chiefly articles such as capes, cloaks, kāhili, helmets, and lei (garlands).55 Kalākaua maintained the chiefly adoration of feathers. That he and his queen Kapi‘olani and other late-nineteenth-century chiefs sustained a high regard for featherwork as a chiefly symbol is evidenced by the fact that it was considered a worthy and appropriate gift to sovereigns of other nations. The king and queen, for instance, presented a feather lei of rare ‘ō‘ō (Moho nobilis) feathers to Queen Victoria at her June 1887 Jubilee celebration. Kapi‘olani herself made the lei, which, as reported by the Illustrated London News (June 1887), was “mounted on royal blue, set in a frame of gold, with the Royal arms and the arms of the Queen of Hawaii on either side, the whole being again surrounded by a border of royal blue, set with golden stars and eight points representing the eight islands of the Sandwich [Hawaiian] group.” A few years earlier, during his world tour of 1881, Kalākaua collected new feather specimens, and in one of his letters he expressed his irritation at the disappearance of some of the more choice samples.56 The coronation kāhili was made of white feathers and was claimed to be of ancient provenance, belonging to Pili (also known as Pilikaaiea or Piliauaua), a chief dating to the twelfth to thirteenth century.57 The Pacific Commercial Advertiser stated that Pili brought this white kāhili to Hawai‘i from a southern homeland known as Kahiki. Pili descended from the Ulu lineage, and the great chiefs from the island of Hawai‘i were his descendants. He arrived in Hawai‘i during the great migration period, during which autochthonous inhabitants encountered an influx people from central Polynesia (Kahiki), possibly Samoa or Tahiti.58 According to the ancient chant of Makuakaumana, Pili was sent to replace Kapawa—who had arrived in Hawai‘i on an earlier voyage and had since been deposed—as the territorial sovereign. Pa‘ao, a chief and high priest, accompanied

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him. Just as Pili became an important ancestor to later Hawaiian chiefs, Pa‘ao’s descendants remained the high priests of the reigning Hawaiian chiefs until after the time of Kamehameha. Prior to the arrival of Pili, the chiefs of Hawai‘i were commoners.59 Pili and Pa‘ao established the genealogical basis of authority in the chiefly lines of the island of Hawai‘i and revolutionized the religious system by introducing the practice of human sacrifice, the large rectangular-walled heiau (temple) style, and worship focused on images. The powerful priestly class that developed in Hawai‘i corresponded to the formalization of the stringent chiefly hierarchy. Emphasizing the sacred basis for chiefly rule, Pa‘ao is credited with instituting the kapu moe, the feather girdle as a symbol of rulership, and the requisite genealogical purity as a foundation for rulership. 60 These social and political institutions became central to the course of Hawaiian culture in the following centuries. To authenticate their high chiefly status, later Hawaiian chiefs would prove their divine descent through the southern chiefs of Kahiki such as Pili and Pa‘ao. Kalākaua’s Legends and Myths of Hawaii reveals the author’s awareness that the chiefs of the Pili line were “of distinguished lineage” and “of supreme blood.”61 Pili’s white feather kāhili presented in the coronation linked Kalākaua to the beginnings of the chiefly hierarchy and to the sacred chiefs of Kahiki. Moreover, through Lonoikamakahiki and the Kumulipo, he could prove his divine descent to Pili through Kiha, father of Līloa.62 Furthermore, Pa‘ao was credited with introducing the pūlo‘ulo‘u as a marker of kapu, visually symbolizing the sacred authority of high chiefs.63 Kalākaua argued that his genealogy was true and proper and that he legitimately possessed these two ancient markers of rulership. The Torch of Iwikauikaua The Torch of Iwikauikaua, or Ka Kukuioiwikauikaua, the emblem of the Kalākaua Dynasty, was another indigenous royal symbol displayed in the coronation ceremony connoting the supremacy of the Keawe-a-Heulu lineage. The burning of kukui torches, light sources made from the oily nuts of the kukui (candlenut, Aleurites moluccana), was symbolic of enlightened leadership backed by proper genealogical qualifications and was pervasive in Kalākaua’s public displays from early in his reign. For example, after his election to the throne, Kalākaua and Kapi‘olani conducted a tour of the islands, as was customary by Hawaiian monarchs. Greeting the royal couple at their various destinations were kukui torches at the harbors and along the main thoroughfares. Upon the king’s return from his world tour in 1881, canoes with hundreds of torches sailed out to greet his ship and additional torches marked his route to ‘Iolani Palace. Hawaiians typically used kukui torches for lighting at night. However, the exclusive right to burn these during the day (kukui ‘ā i ke awakea) originated with the chief Iwikauikaua and was inherited by the Kalākaua family.64 Kalākaua himself remarked upon this fact in “The Adventures of Iwikauikaua: A Story of Royal Knight Errantry in the Sixteenth Century,” published in his Legends and Myths of Hawaii:



The Art of Kingship

With this adventurous and erratic chief originated, it is claimed, the custom of burning kukui torches by daylight on state occasions, especially in connection with the obsequies of persons of royal lineage; and it was within the present generation that the exclusive right to the ceremonial was contested by two royal families claiming the prerogative through descent from Iwikauikaua. Certain customs, like chants and meles, are matters of inheritance, and remain exclusively in the families with which they originate.65

In fact, it was the formal public acknowledgment that the torch symbol rightfully belonged to the Kalākaua family by two ali‘i nui—one of the Kamehameha line (Ruth Ke‘elikōlani) and one of the Keawe line (Kekāuluohi II)—that eventually ended the “genealogical trial.”66 Iwikauikaua was a high chief whose sacred status was supported by his possession of an ‘aha kapu ali‘i, the sacred cord of twisted coconut fibers identifying high chiefs.67 He married Keakamahana, the very sacred mō‘ī (ruler) of the island of Hawai‘i who possessed the kapu moe (the prostrating kapu). Iwikauikaua and Keakamahana had a daughter, Keakealaniwahine, who inherited the kapu moe and succeeded her mother as sacred mō‘ī. By another wife, Kauakahiakua‘anaauakane, an O‘ahu chiefess who possessed the kapu wohi (another sacred kapu, which exempted the bearer from the kapu moe), Iwikauikaua had a son, Kaneikauaiwilani. These two offspring of Iwikauikaua (Keakealaniwahine and Kaneikauaiwilani) married and produced a daughter, Kalanikauleleiaiwi, from whom descended many of the chiefs living in the middle to late nineteenth century.68 This brief record of Iwikauikaua’s marriages and offspring is key to understanding the significance of the torch at Kalākaua’s coronation because it relates to the kapu hierarchy and the king’s claims of legitimacy. There seem to have been variations from island to island in determining status and sanctity through the kapu system. Apparently, up until the time of Iwikauikaua, the kapu moe was the highest kapu held by the chiefs on the island of Hawai‘i and wohi was the prerogative of high-ranking chiefs of O‘ahu.69 Iwikauikaua brought the kapu wohi to Hawai‘i from O‘ahu through his marriage to the O‘ahu chiefess (Kauakahiakua‘anaauakane) and the marriage of their son (Kaneikauaiwilani) to Iwikauikaua’s daughter (Keakealaniwahine) from his union with the Hawai‘i mō‘ī (Keakamahana). Hawai‘i’s chiefs appear to have judged wohi chiefs as being “second pedigree chiefs” and the kapu wohi “to be beneath their feet.” The kapu wohi, however, was extraordinary in that it allowed those who possessed it to remain standing in the presence of and to interact with a kapu moe chief.70 Kalākaua seems to have been arguing for the primacy of both kapu. It is noteworthy that the mō‘ī Kalanikauleleiaiwi, the daughter of Iwikauikaua’s two children, reserved the kapu wohi for her own children and bestowed the kapu moe on Lonoikamakahiki, her husband and half-brother Keawe’s child by another wife (Lonoma‘aikānaka).71 In an account recorded by Kalākaua’s Board of Genealogy, Keakealaniwahine bestowed the kapu wohi on Kalanikauleleiaiwi’s son, saying she had

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invested [him] with a higher order and honor . . . the Kapu Wohi[;] where the other Kapu Moe appears and meet[s] you or you meet them, this Kapu or person bearing the emblems of ceremony will lay prostrate before yours leaving the individual chief alone to stand before you and your emblems of ceremony meaning the Lepa (flag)[,] the Kahili (State poles with feathers) and the Puloulou (Kapa poles and Ball) will stand without prostration.72

While Keakealaniwahine possessed both the kapu moe and kapu wohi from her parents, this account suggests she regarded the latter as the highest honor she could confer. To Hawai‘i Island chiefs (such as the Kamehamehas), perhaps the kapu moe prevailed over the kapu wohi in terms of status and chiefly sanction. This would have been meaningful to the Kamehameha chiefs in the nineteenth century who inherited both kapu from Liholiho (Kamehameha II).73 Yet the two kapu were somewhat equal, if not reversed in seniority, to Kalākaua, who appears to have viewed the kapu system in the context of the entire Hawaiian Island group. The narratives of Kalanikauleleiaiwi and Keakealaniwahine, acknowledging the extraordinary nature of the kapu wohi, were important to the king, as his claim to kapu moe status was suspect. To possess the kapu moe, his parents had to hold the sacred pedigree of the ni‘aupi‘o rank (offspring of the marriage of a ranking brother and sister or half-brother and half-sister), which they did not.74 Kalākaua’s interpretation of the kapu system enabled him to ennoble his claimed descent from ‘Umi, a usurping—not hereditary—chief, to whom he attributed kapu wohi status and who was uncontested as an able ruler.75 The Torch of Iwikauikaua was a well-known symbol of Iwikauikaua, and his role in connecting the kapu of O‘ahu and Hawai‘i was clear in nineteenth-century published and unpublished accounts. The torch was a forceful and evocative symbol of Kalākaua’s inherited status. Moreover, as a source of fire and light, it resonated with the king’s characterization of his rank through the concepts of “brightness,” “shining,” and “burning.” John Charlot identifies the same theme in Hawaiian poetry composed during the Kalākaua period. In his analysis of a mele (chant) composed by David Malo, He Inoa Ahi nō Kalākaua (“A Fire Name Chant for Kalākaua”), which incorporates the images of shining and burning and lays emphasis on the issue of kapu, he writes, Malo’s chant of praise is based on a prestigious kapu inherited by Kalākaua: the privilege of burning torches by day. The mention of that kapu privilege evoked Kalākaua’s high and ancient lineage and his connection to Kamehameha I. Kapu privilege is, in fact, another theme of the Kalākaua movement. Moreover, this kapu was the basis for ceremonies that combined traditional Hawaiian elements with foreign ones, such as fireworks and torchlight parades then used in U.S. political campaigns. That is, religious-political tradition, literature, and ceremonies were being used conjointly to support Kalākaua’s position (1985:10–11).76



The Art of Kingship

In another mele composed for the king on the occasion of his world tour departure in 1881, the metaphor of brilliance is prevalent. Nahinu (cousin of Queen Kapi‘olani) composed a mele that began with these lines: Iā ‘oe ka lā e ‘āloha nei Ma nā welelau o ka honua. Hō‘ike a‘e ‘oe i kou nani, I ka mālamalama ‘oi kelakela.

To you, O sun, shining down Throughout the ends of the world. Show forth your beauty, The greatest of all lights.77

Charlot also remarks that poems composed by Kalākaua and Lili‘uokalani warn others to heed the kapu rights of their family: “Do not act as if to take the kapu” (Mai noho a kii ae i ke kapu), “It is for the descendants of Keaweaheulu” (No na mamo ia ia Keaweaheulu).78 The Feather Cloak of Kamehameha I Perhaps the most splendid item of Hawaiian regalia featured in the coronation was the famed feather cloak (‘ahu‘ula) of Kamehameha I (Plate 3). Kekaulike, sister of Queen Kapi‘olani and governor of the island of Hawai‘i, presented the cloak to Chancellor A. F. Judd, who in turn placed it on Kalākaua’s shoulders, saying, “Receive this ancient Royal Mantle of your predecessors as the Ensign of Knowledge and Wisdom.” Even the opposition newspaper, the Hawaiian Gazette, which had been unrelenting in its critique of the coronation, remarked that this “was the most effective part of the ceremony and the cloak looked graceful over the King’s military uniform.” Consistent with visual parallels to the political themes identified in Charlot’s analysis of Hawaiian poetry and literature of the Kalākaua era, the cloak manifested notions of “brilliance” and exalted rank. Line ten in a name chant for Kalākaua, Ō Kalākaua, He Inoa, “speaks of Kalākaua’s being covered in the cloak of mamo feathers—as an expression of the theme of shining. Feather cloaks were considered to glow.” 79 This poetic allusion makes direct reference to the feather cloak used in the coronation, the singular example to have been made almost entirely of yellow mamo (Drepanis pacifica) feathers. And, because feather cloaks symbolized the loftiest of ranks, they also conveyed the idea of “heights,” another common chiefly metaphor in Hawaiian poetry and literature. Feather capes and cloaks were considered the most prestigious of garments, involving the labor of all ranks but monopolized by the highest chiefs. The royalist newspaper clearly distinguished between shorter capes as the emblem of lesser chiefs and longer cloaks as the prerogative of paramount chiefs. Only the reigning sovereign could properly wear the coronation cloak.80 The Royal Mantle,81 as it was called in the Pacific Commercial Advertiser, is a large cloak, approximately fifty-six inches long, one hundred forty-eight inches wide along the base, and weighs approximately six pounds. There are a few scarlet ‘i‘iwi (Vestiaria coccinea) feathers along the neckline, with a purple velvet neck border added during Kalākaua’s reign, perhaps for the occasion of the coronation. It is the most valuable of the

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Hawaiian royal insignia. Writing during the reign of Kauikeaouli, historian and art critic J. J. Jarves estimated the worth of this robe, in terms of materials and labor, at a minimum of one million dollars and compared it to “the purest diamonds in the several European regalia.”82 The scarcity of the yellow mamo feathers partly accounted for its high value. Each mamo, a primarily black honeycreeper, supplied only six to seven yellow feathers, and this particular species was endemic only to the island of Hawai‘i. It was estimated that 450,000 feathers were used to make the cloak. Only a paramount chief could have amassed the necessary feathers and rallied the required labor for such a project. Hawai‘i was the only Polynesian polity that had chiefs powerful enough to make such demands of resources and labor.83 Other formal elements signified Kalākaua’s paramountcy. The feather cloak was the primary symbol of the king’s sacred nature and his religious responsibilities for maintaining the chiefdom or nation. “‘Ahu‘ula” literally translates as “red/sacred garment for the upper torso.” The earliest feather garments were probably red in color, characteristic of central Polynesian featherwork; Hawaiians later added the rarer and highly valued yellow feathers.84 Featherwork was generally associated with gods, as evidenced in feather god images and feather-woven temple structures. Hawaiians believed red feathers represented their gods, and their gods’ bodies were originally covered with feathers. Feather artifacts and garments therefore conveyed sacredness, and garments made with feathers magnified the wearer’s genealogy and divinity. Genealogies acquired materiality and power in woven feathered garments.85 As he did in promoting other Hawaiian art forms such as poetry and dance, Kalākaua clearly emphasized the divine role and responsibilities of the chief-king in his display of Kamehameha I’s feather cloak. Conceptions of the high chief as a cosmic entity, as vital to maintaining the life of the land, people, and gods, were pervasive in nineteenth-century performance and literature and played an important role in Hawaiian politics. The cloak conveyed the promise of the king to secure prosperity for his people and maintain cosmic and earthly harmony through good and correct rule. He assured his Native subjects of his intention to “Increase the Nation” and safeguard “Hawai‘i for Hawaiians,” two mottos of his reign. Kamehameha, who inherited the cloak when he received his share of the kingdom from Kalaniopu‘u, a paramount chief of the island of Hawai‘i,86 was recognized as a great leader who possessed the qualities represented by the golden garment. As discussed at length in the following chapter, Kalākaua consciously cultivated a bond between his reign and that of Kamehameha. Charlot describes religious and political concepts centering on Kamehameha that arose in the contact and early postcontact periods as Hawaiians responded to new social and political circumstances. Kamehameha was seen as successfully adapting—and thereby preserving—Hawaiian culture to meet the challenges brought on by contact with outsiders. Kalākaua sought to follow Kamehameha’s example and foreground their affinities. During the unveiling of the Kamehameha Monument, which was included in the coronation observances, Gibson quoted Kamehameha’s last words to enkindle Native confidence and pride: “E‘oni wale no‘oukou i ku‘u pono” (“You need only



The Art of Kingship

act in my rightness”). Charlot interprets this statement to mean that Kamehameha laid down the right path for his successors to follow.87 Kalākaua claimed to continue this path and literally enveloped himself in the sacred aura of Kamehameha by appropriating and wearing his feather cloak, presenting himself as the rightful successor. In addition to communicating conceptions of rulership and references to past heroes to the Native Hawaiian audience, the feather cloak effectively garnered admiration among haole. Since the eighteenth century, ‘ahu‘ula were internationally admired as an art form. Captain James Cook, for instance, described his awe of the elegant garments and compared them to the richest and thickest velvet in both beauty and magnificence.88 Even detractors of the king could not deny their technical virtuosity and striking beauty. Kalākaua’s display of the cloak posed a retort to those who believed Native Hawaiians needed to disassociate themselves from religious practices and their related cultural forms, such as visual arts and hula, in order for Hawai‘i to be modern. Brilliant achievements, evidenced by the existence of artifacts such as ‘ahu‘ula, testified to the status of Hawai‘i as a civilized and sophisticated society. In other words, the nation need not forfeit its history and custom, including the sacred character of rulership, to be recognized as a progressive state. The Sword of State Kalākaua also incorporated several European symbols into his investiture ceremony.89 Following the presentation of the pūlo‘ulo‘u, palaoa, and kāhili, Chancellor A. F. Judd administered the oath of office and presented to Kalākaua the Sword of State (Fig. 7), described by the Pacific Commercial Advertiser as a counterpart to that of England. Its steel blade was inlaid with the Hawaiian coat of arms, crown, and national motto in gold.90 The sword represented “Justice,” “Mercy,” and military prowess—qualities attributed to Kamehameha and that Kalākaua wished to emulate by associating himself with this warrior king. While many non-Native characterizations of Kalākaua emphasize his excessive fondness for military display, it is more likely that the king wished to signal his ability to defend and protect his nation. Throughout his reign, he paid keen attention to military matters, from reinstating the Household Guard in 1874 to developing a navy and pursuing a Pacific confederacy in the 1880s. His personal scrapbooks were filled with journal clippings on naval vessels, weaponry, and international military affairs.91 After Kalākaua received the sword, it was placed in the care of a government official, who was ordered to unsheath it. It remained so displayed for the duration of the ceremony, poised and ready. The Ring of State and Royal Scepter After conferring the Royal Mantle, the chancellor placed the Ring of State (Plate 4) on the fourth finger of the king’s right hand, bestowing upon him the “Ensign of Kingly Dignity.” A large gold ornament weighing nearly one ounce, the ring supports a carnelian engraved with the coat of arms and deep relief images of the crown, a banner inscribed with the national motto, and two armed chiefs wearing feather cloaks. Each chief figure is

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Figure 7. Kalākaua’s Sword of State, ca. 1883 (BPBM 8119). Photograph by Seth Joel. Courtesy Bernice Pauahi Bishop Museum (XC76921).

flanked by a solitaire one-carat diamond. The significance of red and yellow (i.e., the carnelian and gold) as sacred colors has been described above in the context of featherwork, as has the iconography of the coat of arms in the examination of the coronation pavilion. Also relevant are the previously discussed chiefly metaphors of brilliance and shining, effectively visualized in the gold and diamonds. Kalākaua spared no expense on this ring, on which he placed high symbolic value.92 In 1888, Kalākaua enclosed his precious ring in a bundle of bones he believed to be those of Kamehameha, which he acquired from a burial cave on the island of Hawai‘i. The ring had taken on a truly sacred quality, so much so as to be worthy of being a postmortem companion to the then deified founder of the kingdom.93 The Royal Scepter (Figs. 8 and 9) was conferred next. The Pacific Commercial Advertiser provided a detailed description: The Scepter, the Ensign of Kingly Power and Justice, is of gold, about 2 feet 4 inches in length, divided by the design into three parts. The base and shaft are shaped as an Ionic column, bound around with the Roman fillet. The shaft of the column has the laurel leaf entwined about its polished surface, and the capital is finished with three rams’ heads, symbols of strength. The central part, by which the scepter is held, is covered with

Figure 8. Kalākaua’s Scepter, ca. 1883 (BPBM 8118). Photograph by Seth Joel. Courtesy Bernice Pauahi Bishop Museum (XC76919).

Figure 9. Kalākaua’s Scepter (detail). Photograph by Seth Joel. Courtesy Bernice Pauahi Bishop Museum (XC76920).

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imperial velvet, and the third, or upper part of the shaft, is surmounted by a Globe on which is perched a dove with outstretched wings, the emblem of Peace.94

This insignia presented Kalākaua’s royal status in classical terms through its laurel wreaths, rams’ heads, column, and acanthus-supported golden globe, visual elements long recognized among Western nations. These suggested to viewers that Hawai‘i indeed enjoyed a long and glorified history of successful rulership tantamount to that of the Western world. While contemporary democratic movements throughout Western Europe and North America used neoclassical references as a foundation for democratic institutions, Kalākaua focused on aspects of the classical revival that substantiated monarchical rule. The scepter’s imagery echoed Kalākaua’s cultural and political claims as expressed in his publications. In his introduction to Kalākaua’s Legends and Myths of Hawaii, Rollin M. Daggett traced Polynesian origins to an Aryan beginning and suggested a common cultural origin for Hawai‘i and the great Western powers, thereby naturalizing the use of classical reference in Hawaiian history, literature, and art.95 The scepter also proclaimed Hawai‘i’s ability to defend its sovereignty. While the Advertiser identified the bird at the summit of the globe as the dove of peace, it displays the aggressive qualities of a predatory bird, such as the ‘io (Buteo solitarius), a hawk endemic to the island of Hawai‘i and associated with high chiefs (see Fig. 9). While the bird image does not appear to represent precisely either a Hawaiian dove or hawk, its poised and craned neck, tensely outstretched wings, firmly clawed footing, and alert and determined gaze effectively denoted Hawai‘i’s watchful eye and vigilance in protecting its independence. The Royal Crowns The crowning of Kalākaua and Kapi‘olani formed the climax of the coronation ceremony. A description of the crowns (Plate 5) published by the Advertiser provides useful detail: The Crown is composed of a fillet or band of gold one inch in width, set, on each edge, with 192 small diamonds. Midway in the fillet are set 20 opals, alternating with 8 emeralds and as many rubies, save at the back, where there are set in the place of the emeralds and rubies 6 kukui nut jewels of a deep reddish black, highly polished. At the front and back, and on each side, the fillet is surmounted by . . . golden Maltese cross[es], in the arms of which are set forty-eight diamonds, each arm having three. In the center of the cross in front of the crown is a magnificent diamond of about 6 carats’ weight, and on the side others a little smaller. A splendid carbuncle glows in the center of the cross at the back. Between the crosses are short curved bars forming twelve points, from which spring taro leaves in frosted gold, beautifully veined, and each one holding a diamond in its center. Between the points are set twelve other fine diamonds. Springing from the fillet, over the crimson velvet cap of maintenance, are eight bars of gold, whose surfaces are studded with half-round knobs, as in the crown of France. These eight bars



The Art of Kingship

diminish in width, and finally unite at the base of a globe of dark red enamel. These eight bars are emblematical of the union of the islands of the group under one rule. The globe that they uphold is banded horizontally with a circle of pearls, and another like band passes over the upper half of the globe. Surmounting the whole is a gold Maltese cross, in which is set four brilliant diamonds. The Queen’s crown [is] . . . similar . . . [, a] trifle smaller. Each crown contains 521 diamonds, 54 pearls, 20 opals, 8 emeralds, 1 large carbuncle, and 6 kukui jewels.96

As with the other items of European-derived coronation regalia, the crowns did not casually imitate foreign symbols to lend pomp to the Hawaiian ceremony but rather to manifest specific Hawaiian conceptions of the king and his kingship. The diamond-studded taro (kalo, Colocasia esculenta) leaves emerging from pointed arches on the ornamented fillet provided a rich statement of the king’s responsibility to preserve the fertility of the land and its people. Taro was a staple food of Hawaiians, deemed “the staff of life” and designated the national dish. It was a source of material sustenance and symbolically linked people to the land (‘āina) and its origins. Lilikalā Kame‘eleihiwa describes the legendary birth of taro as the result of the seduction by Wākea (personification of the “Sky Father” and forbear of the Hawaiian people) of his daughter, Ho‘ohōkūlani. From the spot in which they buried the body of their prematurely born child (Hāloa-naka) emerged the first taro plant. Their second child was the first high chief (ali‘i nui) of Hawai‘i and ancestor to all Hawaiians. Kame‘eleihiwa points to the significance of this sibling relationship; taro is the elder brother and sustainer of the Hawaiian people, and the relationship between people and land is of supreme consequence.97 The taro leaf motifs adorning the crown’s fillet referenced the chief as the source of life. They denoted the role and responsibility of the chief as the progenitor of the people and the land, the chief ’s descent from the gods, and the divine course of life.98 On the crown, the taro leaves figuratively formed the foundation for the eight unified islands, symbolized by the eight arching gold bands. The Advertiser account made explicit this reference. These bands, counterpoised by the arched taro leaf stems, also point to another chiefly metaphor, hoaka (“arch” or “crescent”), which signified “brightness,” “splendor,” “glory,” and divine genealogy.99 Moreover, the kukui “jewels” mounted on the fillet as equivalent companions to the diamonds, emeralds, rubies, and opals likely referenced the Kukui Torch of Iwikauikaua and therefore represented Kalākaua’s genealogical standing, kapu status, and exalted chiefly metaphors of “burning,” “shining,” and “brightness.” “Kukui” also figuratively translates as “guide, leader,”100 presenting a saturated visual allusion permeated by kaona (“multivalence, hidden meaning”) and informed by the context of the coronation. The four Maltese crosses placed equidistant above the crown’s fillet and the one at its apex appear to have had special significance for Kalākaua. He also incorporated the motif into his designs for the coat of arms, medals (e.g., Coat of Arms Medal, World Tour Medal, and Election Medal) and Royal Orders (e.g., Royal Order of Kapi‘olani, Royal Order of

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Kalākaua I, and Royal Order of the Crown of Hawai‘i) (Plate 6).101 Kalākaua was not the first ruler to incorporate the Maltese cross into Hawaiian regalia (it was, for instance, used in the Royal Order of Kamehameha I, founded April 1865 by Lota Kapuāiwa),102 but he multiplied and amplified its display. Given that Kalākaua was knowledgeable in European medieval history and literature, it is reasonable to assume that he was familiar with the twelfth-century military monastic order Knights of Malta, which was initially founded as Hospitallers of St. John of Jerusalem and subsequently known as Knights of Rhodes and, in 1530, Knights of Malta. Though originally established to serve the poor and infirm and later to protect pilgrims traveling to the Holy Land, this order became distinguished for its military successes and the power and wealth it accumulated. It dominated the Mediterranean and founded subsidiary preceptories throughout Europe. Although its center moved from Jerusalem to Acre, Cyprus, and Rhodes, the order was famous for its fortress on the island of Malta. Here, they gained great fame for defending themselves, through army and navy, against powerful Turkish invaders and continuing their charitable work until Napoleon seized the island in 1798.103 Kalākaua possibly perceived an affinity between the two island entities—Malta and Hawai‘i. In Legends and Myths, he made frequent reference to European classical and medieval culture and frequently employed chivalric terms in his narratives, often referring to distinguished chiefs as “knights.” Similarly, he repeatedly utilized the Maltese cross to signify Hawai‘i’s, like Malta’s, ability to guard itself, care for its people, and expand its sphere of influence internationally. Further, the four two-pointed arms of the Maltese cross and its variations—the Cross Pattée and Formée Pattée, which feature broader fluted arms—likely referenced the theme of national unity among the eight major Hawaiian Islands. It is noteworthy that the Knights of Malta were in contemporary current events, contributing to the revival of their gloried history in the last quarter of the nineteenth century; in 1879, the fifth year of Kalākaua’s reign, the Pope restored the office of grand master to the Knights of Malta, thereby reconstituting the order. Moreover, Kalākaua was extremely active in a similar secret fraternal order having medieval origins; he was master of his Symbolic Lodge (Lodge le Progrès de l’Océanie, no. 124), high priest of the Chapter of Royal Arch, commander of the Knights Templar (allies and rivals to the Knights of Malta), and was coroneted a thirty-third degree Scottish Rite Freemason in 1878 (Fig. 10).104 The event of his crowning publicized Kalākaua’s vision of his kingship. The chancellor presented the crown saying, “Receive this Crown of pure gold to adorn the high station wherein thou hast been placed.” The king then crowned himself, next placing the smaller crown on Kapi‘olani’s head (an engraving of the event appeared in the Illustrated London News, 7 April 1883; Fig. 11). Some observers interpreted Kalākaua’s self-crowning as a Napoleonic gesture.105 The association with the French emperor is of interest in view of Kalākaua’s efforts to link his rule to the heroic reign of Kamehameha I, popularly known at that time as “the Napoleon of the Pacific.” The self-crowning also spoke to issues of rank and the relations among chiefs. In a letter to Lili‘uokalani, the king dwelled on the



The Art of Kingship

Figure 10. Kalākaua, Knight Templar. Courtesy Archives of Hawai‘i (HC30975).

question of who was to crown him; he stated that he decided to crown himself to avoid friction among those contending for the honor.106 Moreover, the traditional kapu system prohibited, upon penalty of death, passing anything of a less hallowed nature (i.e., of insufficient mana) over the head of a high chief, even the shadow of one’s hand; this belief was sustained among Native Hawaiians to the end of the century, though without the burden of capital punishment. Kalākaua therefore publicly demonstrated that there was no other of higher and more sacred status to perform the duty.107 Celestial signs accompanied the activities of chiefs. Heavenly signs were considered to be the ‘aumakua (family gods) recognizing their earthly offspring and indicated one’s rank.108 During the days prior to the coronation, Queen Kapi‘olani was disturbed at the inauspicious presence of heavy rains. She expressed her concern to Kalākaua that the weather was not recognizing her “beloved Chief,” and he responded by saying the rains signaled the expiration of the Kamehameha Dynasty and that the sun would shine on the new dynasty on the day of his coronation. Accounts of the coronation remarked that after days of rain, the sun did indeed shine brilliantly on the morning of the coronation and, remarkably, the morning star could be seen simultaneously with the sun. Lending further gravity to the event, before the crowning, a cloud obscured the sun, but it “burst forth” through the dark skies at the moment of the act. “It was noticed by the entire multitude assembled . . . and a murmur of wonder and admiration passed over the throng”;109 “[a] sigh escaped the crowd and some fell to their knees.”110 The

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Figure 11. Kalākaua’s self-crowning as recorded in the Illustrated London News, 7 April 1883. Courtesy Archives of Hawai‘i (17991).

heavens reinforced the cosmic message of Kalākaua‘s earthly presentation of his sacrosanct status through his investiture regalia. Together they inspired awe and respect for the king. While many accounts of the coronation and its regalia innocuously describe these as a mixture of Hawaiian and Western elements, it was neither a trivial nor cavalier combination of cultural references and visual symbols. The coronation regalia evidenced an intended symbolic and cultural syncretism whose meanings were consistent throughout. The purpose of the coronation was not merely to satisfy the whims of the king or to sate his appetite for extravagant display, as his critics maintained. The visual forms of the coronation and the space created for it must be understood in terms of indigenous conceptions of rulership within the context of late-nineteenth-century Hawaiian genealogical politics and kapu status rivalries, in addition to Hawai‘i’s desire to secure the legitimacy of the Kalākaua Dynasty in the international community.



C hapter 2



Palaces and Sacred Spaces



‘Iolani Palace

An emblem of Hawaiian history and political authority since the late nineteenth century, ‘Iolani Palace (built 1879–1882) has been a constant and central fixture in the political and cultural landscape of Honolulu. Alternatively described as “American Florentine,” “American Composite,” and “French Rococo” in style,1 this palace served as monarchical seat from 1883 to 1893 during the reigns of Kalākaua and his successor Lydia Lili‘uokalani (r. 1891–1893). It later functioned as the legislative halls and executive offices for the provisional government that overthrew the Hawaiian monarchy in 1893 and established the Republic of Hawai‘i in 1894, and it continued as the administrative center of the Territory of Hawai‘i upon annexation by the United States in 1898. When Hawai‘i became the fiftieth American state in 1959, ‘Iolani Palace remained the political center until the new State Capitol Building was erected nearby in 1969. In the 1970s the palace was restored, and in 1978 it was opened to the public as a historic house museum. Despite the fact that ‘Iolani Palace persists as a key symbol of Hawaiian history and culture, providing the site for sovereignty events and commemorations of royalty and Hawaiian history, few critical analyses of this structure have been published.2 ‘Iolani Palace underscores the critical and conditional relationships between local subjectivity, indigenous agency, and global dynamics in the production of visual and spatial cultural forms. Addressing the inadequacy of interpreting colonial architectural production and cultural change as simply reactive rather than active and deliberate responses to historical and colonial processes, this chapter suggests that through the designated functions and purposeful location of his palace, as well as its design, embellishment, and technological innovation, Kalākaua projected his vision of himself as both an internationally recognized ruler (to counter colonial threats to Hawaiian sovereignty) and an exalted political and religious authority in Hawaiian terms (to address political divisions internal to the Native Hawaiian chiefly community). In ‘Iolani Palace, he fashioned a modern Hawaiian space and structure.

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‘Iolani Palace as National and International Symbol The extant ‘Iolani Palace (Fig. 12) is the structure Kalākaua built to replace a smaller palace of the same name used by rulers Kauikeaouli, Alexander Liholiho, Lota Kapuāiwa, Lunalilo, and Kalākaua himself during the first half of his reign. Governor of O‘ahu Mataio Kekūanaō‘a built the earlier, smaller structure in 1844, naming it Hanailoia. Kauikeaouli assumed possession of Hanailoia, which was later renamed ‘Iolani by Lota Kapuāiwa.3 Plans for a new more elaborate palace originated with Lota Kapuāiwa, who in 1870 ordered architectural plans from G. Allen Mansfield and Thomas Rowe of Australia. A modified version of these plans was used to build Ali‘iōlani Hale in 1872, which, rather than serving as a royal residence, housed the Hawaiian Judiciary and Legislature (see Fig. 31). Though some commentators in the mid-1870s preferred that Kalākaua utilize Ali‘iōlani Hale, with some modification, as a palace rather than incurring the expense of a new construction project,4 Kalākaua pursued his goal of building a monumental edifice of his own. While many observers attribute Kalākaua’s aspirations to erect a palace to his desire to match the grand elegance of the royal courts he visited in 1881 during his world tour, it was in the planning stages well before his departure. Upon accepting his royal office in 1874, Kalākaua immediately began arrangements to refurbish the existing royal residence. He instructed architect Robert Lishman (1831–1902) of Sydney, Australia, to draft plans for substantial renovations in 1874, but the 1878 Hawaiian Legislature provided an appropriation of $50,000 for a new building.5 Built of plastered brick and iron with concrete block trimmings, ‘Iolani Palace is a heavy rectangular structure (the ground plan is 120 feet by 140 feet) of two main stories plus attic and basement levels (Fig. 13).6 Four towers, each approximately sixty feet high, flank the deep verandas (which encircle the second and third stories), and towers eighty feet high are located at the front and rear entrances. A square campanile with concave outlines caps each tower, and Corinthian columns line the two main levels. A six-footwide trench resembling a moat encloses the bottom floor, providing the basement with light and air.7 Several architects and builders contributed to the design of the building. Thomas J. Baker prepared the original plan in 1879 and estimated costs to be $65,000. After Baker was discharged, Charles J. Wall finished the drawings and continued the work during 1880. With Robert and Stirling and Edward Bedford Thomas, Isaac Moore completed the project and corrected many of the errors created by the previous builders.8 George Lucas supervised the carpentry, using imported (e.g., American walnut and white cedar) and fine Hawaiian (e.g., koa, kou, kamani, and ‘ōhi‘a) woods.9 The sophisticated mansard roofs and the detailed brickwork, moldings, and wrought iron decorations were completed in time for Kalākaua’s coronation ceremony in February 1883, for which the palace served as centerpiece. The edifice was considered a symbol of utmost national importance and, therefore, worthy of great expenditure. Increased revenues gained by the Reciprocity Treaty, which

Figure 12. ‘Iolani Palace, Honolulu, O‘ahu, 1880s. Courtesy Archives of Hawai‘i (16490).

Figure 13. ‘Iolani Palace ground plan reconstruction. Courtesy Pacific Books, Palo Alto, CA.

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permitted Hawaiian sugar to be sold in American markets duty-free, enabled funding of the new palace (and generated infrastructural expansion more broadly). Justifying the investment and encouraging its popular support, the Pacific Commercial Advertiser assured readers that the palace would “be in all respects by far the finest and most imposing building in the Islands, an honor and ornament to our capital city, and a fitting abode for Royalty.”10 Royalist supporters believed Kalākaua required an abode suitable to his high station and that an internationally recognized king and nation should have a political center comparable to those of other states. As construction continued, the Advertiser published a description of its progress, adding, “There is a promise that our Sovereign will be provided with apartments suitable for the reception of the distinguished personages he is from time to time called upon to entertain, and with a residence suitable to his position and dignity.”11 Not only did Kalākaua want a palace appropriate to his station, he desired an architectural monument that rivaled the great mansions of thriving resident haole families. The style, scale, and number of new lavish homes built by haole in Hawai‘i reflected their economic prosperity, stimulated by the sugar trade;12 to surpass these buildings in terms of magnificence and opulence was a distinct goal of the king and his cohort. While impressing Native viewers and competing with local haole subjects, the palace intended to celebrate the success and achievements of the prospering Hawaiian nation and convey its cosmopolitanism to international observers. Kalākaua celebrated the accomplishments of his kingdom through the ostentatious palace and the extravagant display of expensive decorations and interior fittings.13 Its profusion of gold leaf, expensive fabrics, fine china, select woods, and gifts from Queen Victoria, Napoleon III, and other European rulers, which had been received by Kalākaua and his predecessors, contributed to this effect.14 Several months prior to the palace’s completion, the Advertiser provided a detailed room-by-room description of the interior furnishings ordered from Europe and the United States. The writer informed the public of the colors, fine textiles, stylish furniture, and specifics of décor, also noting the foreign sources of materials and craftsmanship. The newspaper periodically reminded its readership of the building’s elegance in its coverage of royal receptions, tea parties, and other events.15 Adding to the palace’s global character was the inclusion of foreign orders and portraits of various state heads in its main chambers. The insignia and ribbons comprising the foreign orders bestowed upon Kalākaua by Japan, Austria, Sweden, Norway, Denmark, Spain, Italy, Venezuela, Great Britain, Belgium, Germany, Portugal, and Thailand hung on the walls of the Throne Room (Fig. 14), displayed with the Hawaiian Royal Orders (Plate 6). Each decoration was mounted on escutcheons in gilded oval frames, surmounted, respectively, by Hawai‘i’s and each nation’s coat of arms. Similarly, portraits of rulers and notable individuals from Hawai‘i and foreign states (such as Rear Admiral Richard D. Thomas, Lord Beaconsfield, and William Gladstone of Great Britain; Alexander II of Russia; Napoleon III and Louis Philippe of France; and Frederick William III of Prussia), juxtaposed with likenesses of Hawaiian chiefs and royalty,16 adorned the walls



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Figure 14. Foreign orders displayed on the walls of the Throne Room. Courtesy Archives of Hawai‘i (PC90).

of the Dining Room and Grand Hall (Plate 7). Corresponding to the European tradition of representing royal lineages through the display of portraits, Kalākaua’s combination of images of foreign leaders and those of his family and chiefly predecessors established him as part of this international royal lineage—he was their heir and equal. Kalākaua played an active role in furnishing the palace. Correspondence housed in the State Archives of Hawai‘i indicates the degree to which the king was involved with the planning, from overall design to the smallest detail (e.g., furniture, dishes, towels, etc.).17 He carefully selected furnishings and materials from Europe, the United States, Asia, and the Middle East during his world tour and, at the time of his coronation, ordered additional artworks and portraits. The king incorporated technical innovations and modern inventions such as the use of concrete blocks (which was fairly new to masons throughout the world),18 sheet glass, a telephone system (the first in Honolulu), modern indoor plumbing, and electric lighting (‘Iolani had electricity before the White House or Buckingham Palace). These innovations continued earlier nineteenth-century Native Hawaiian architectural modernization through the incorporation of Western forms, technologies, and furnishings in what were called by Western observers “civilized houses,” adaptations of pre- and early contact men’s eating houses (hale mua). Such syncretic chiefly structures

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materialized competition among ali‘i nui and between ali‘i and foreigners in controlling foreign goods and encouraged respect from abroad.19 ‘Iolani Palace was the proper center for the cosmopolitan city of Honolulu. Contemporary Hawaiian publications described Honolulu in the 1880s as no longer a “small city, or a one-horse town,” but rather “a modern city, laid out upon the best American and European plans.”20 Similar descriptions of the building, its grounds, and Honolulu environs were reported in numerous foreign travelers’ accounts, often accompanied by picturesque views.21 George Sala, in an 1889 volume of Current Literature, wrote of the palace’s tasteful grounds and “architectural pretensions at least equaling those of a schloss in an average German Grand Duchy.”22 A few years later, in the Californian Illustrated Magazine, Bertha F. Herrick provided an interior description as well: “Furnished throughout by professionals, it abounds in all that is rare, rich and luxurious, and costly gifts from European and Asiatic rulers add greatly to the general interest.”23 Despite his patronizing view of Kalākaua and his “pigmy kingdom,” George H. Fitch, literary critic for the San Francisco Chronicle and contributor to several other American periodicals, described the palace as “an imposing looking building, surrounded by about three acres of fine park filled with tropical trees and shrubbery” and its throne room as “handsomely frescoed and furnished.”24 Other authors compared ‘Iolani Palace and Honolulu to buildings and towns in California and New England. Garnering favorable international attention, the palace proved its place as a political center in a modern city and a modern state, suggesting its future in the world order and making the nation visible to all. This vision was intended to endure. At the Masonic cornerstone-laying ceremony held for ‘Iolani Palace on 13 December 1879, the date of Queen Kapi‘olani’s birthday, a copper casket containing items marking the accomplishments of the previous century was inserted into and interred with the cornerstone.25 Included were images of the Kamehameha and Kalākaua royal families, chiefs, and other notable leaders of the past and present; photographs of public buildings and landscape views; Hawaiian postage stamps and coins; documents such as reports of the various governmental ministries, census and Custom House statistics, and constitutions of major civic organizations; copies of the main Hawaiian newspapers and eleven Hawaiian language publications; and the Royal Seal of Hawai‘i.26 Bound to the very foundations of the structure, objects in the time capsule were preserved for future observers to ponder and to remember the role of those who built the modern kingdom, for which the palace stood as a metaphor. ‘Iolani Palace bore the expectation of historical and cultural continuity.

Chiefly Structures and Sacred Spaces While the palace could boast of its international style, urbane furnishings, and modern building fabrication, it nonetheless was a Hawaiian chiefly structure. The forms, functions, and significations of indigenous pre- and early contact era architecture must therefore be carefully considered in its analysis. The homes of chiefs were distinguished by



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height and girth according to rank. Descriptions of domiciles in Lahaina, Maui, from the first quarter of the nineteenth century, for instance, indicate that the homes of lowerranking families were only four to six feet high, while chiefs’ residences were eighteen to twenty feet high.27 English missionary William Ellis also described the houses of chiefs as consistently larger and distinct from commoners’ dwellings.28 Pou hana, denoting the ridge post, indicated a person’s status in figurative speech and suggests the intimate identification between a chief ’s rank and his or her house. Similar to Ali‘iōlani Hale, the administrative center commissioned by Lota Kapuāiwa, ‘Iolani Palace towered over the surrounding buildings and perhaps was intended to be the tallest building in the kingdom. An architectural manifestation of the theme of “heights” expressed in poetry, its elevation allegorized superior chiefly status.29 Like other chiefly homes, the palace possessed an identity and name. Kalākaua retained the name adopted by his predecessor Lota Kapuāiwa for the former palace. The Kamehameha king chose “‘Iolani” because it signified the ‘io, a species of hawk (Buteo solitarius) endemic to the island of Hawai‘i, the homeland of great chiefs, and itself symbolic of chiefs. The high flight of this hawk likewise denoted the elevated status of chiefs; it soared so high, it was believed to be all-seeing and able to engage the realm of the gods. ‘Io also references one who heralds the presence of a chief.30 Lota Kapuāiwa originally entertained the name “St. Alexander Place,” after his brother and royal predecessor Alexander Liholiho, but in 1863 he selected ‘Iolani—one of Alexander Liholiho’s Hawaiian names. Liholiho (Kamehameha II) also possessed this name, given to him by his father Kamehameha I. Thus, the appellation contained genealogical reference to a renowned ruling dynasty; Kalākaua’s retention of the name aligned him with the Kamehameha chiefly line and denoted his own lofty rank. The palace compound resembled a kauhale, a chiefly residential building complex frequently surrounded by a fence or wall (Fig. 15). In addition to the homes of chiefs and retainers, buildings in a kauhale had specialized functions: temple (heiau), men’s eating house (hale mua),31 women’s eating house (hale ‘aina), sleeping house (hale moe), menstrual house (hale pe‘a), storage building (hale ho‘āhu or hale papa‘a), work house (hale kuku), and so on.32 The ‘Iolani building complex was similarly comprised of multiple buildings enclosed by an eight-foot-high coral block wall. In addition to the palace, there was a ten-room personal residence used by the royal family called Hale ‘Ākala (Figs. 16 and 19)33 and, since the time of the Kamehamehas, many chiefs maintained homes in or near the ‘Iolani enclosure. For example, High Chiefess Kekāuluohi (ca. 1794–1845), premier, wife of Kamehameha I, and mother of King Lunalilo, built her house at this site, on the premises known as Pohukaina, as did Kalanimōkū (ca. 1768–1827), a major adviser to Kamehameha I. Kekūanaō‘a (1794–1868), the governor of O‘ahu and father of Alexander Liholiho and Lota Kapuāiwa, erected his home called Hāli‘imaile on the western section of the compound. The home of John Young II (1810–1857, whose Hawaiian name was Keoni Ana and who served as premier from 1845 to 1854), Kīna‘u Hale, was also located here. Kauikeaouli maintained two residences: Ho‘iho‘ikea (“Independence,”

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Figure 15. Kamakahonu, the chiefly compound (kauhale) of Kamehameha I, 1813–1819. Map by Paul Rockwood. Courtesy Bernice Pauahi Bishop Museum (SP201820).

later used by Alexander Liholiho, Lota Kapuāiwa, Lunalilo, and Kalākaua), situated in the far western area of the ‘Iolani site, where the ‘Iolani Barracks is currently located, and a house on the opposite end of the grounds.34 Ihikapukalani, home to Alexander Liholiho and Queen Emma, was additionally located at this site. Prior to the construction of ‘Iolani Palace and Hale ‘Ākala, Walter Coote, a visitor to Honolulu in 1879, described the palace complex as a walled compound containing a dozen wood structures (one of which belonged to Kalākaua), indicating the degree to which the practice of enclosing a group of chiefly domiciles was maintained throughout the century.35 The palace building itself adapted some of the roles of both the hale mua (men’s eating house) and heiau (temple) found in earlier chiefly compounds. The size of a hale mua indicated a chief ’s rank and served as an audience chamber as well as a space in which men prepared and ate their foods. Markers called pūlo‘ulo‘u—sticks or spears surmounted by a bark cloth–covered ball that warned passersby against trespass—distinguished the



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Figure 16. ‘Iolani Palace, Honolulu, O‘ahu, mid-1880s. Hale ‘Ākala is located to the left. Courtesy Archives of Hawai‘i (22671).

hale mua as a sacred, restricted (kapu) space.36 Like an eating house, ‘Iolani Palace’s considerable size and the rows of kapu markers capping the second story verandah railings (see Fig. 23), which were designed by Kalākaua37 and cast by the Honolulu Iron Works, designated the restricted and hallowed nature of this building, intended for more formal and “official” uses such as state dinners and receptions.38 Added sometime in the 1880s, possibly for the occasion of Kalākaua’s Jubilee celebration in 1886, cast-iron lamps flanking the bases of the stairways leading to the front and rear entrance vestibules amplified the reference to sacred space. Each topped by three round glass globes, the lamps resemble pūlo‘ulo‘u and have pūlo‘ulo‘u motifs cast around their shafts (Figs. 17 and 18).39 Large spheres crowning the gateway posts in the walls of the enclosure running along the perimeter of the compound extended these kapu symbols to the limits of the palace grounds (see Fig. 16). This is similar to the earlier practice of marking and protecting the boundaries of chiefly structures with pūlo‘ulo‘u, such as at Liholiho’s and his chiefs’ homes at Kaoaopa, which served as a minimal form of barrier.40 These multiple and nested references to kapu space at ‘Iolani Palace visually and spatially insisted on Kalākaua’s rank and privilege. In his study of syncretic chiefly architecture, anthropologist Joshua Bell describes the transformation of hale mua into “civilized houses,” which, as noted above, were the precursors to Kalākaua’s ‘Iolani Palace. Bell notes that civilized houses were included in chiefly

Figure 17. Pūlo‘ulo‘u-shaped lamps at the mauka and makai entrances to ‘Iolani Palace. Photograph by Viola Or, 2007. Courtesy of the photographer.

Figure 18. Detail of lamppost showing pūlo‘ulo‘u design. Photograph by Viola Or, 2007. Courtesy of the photographer.



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Figure 19. Hale ‘Ākala, ‘Iolani Palace Grounds, ca. 1880s. The roofline is trimmed with pūlo‘ulo‘u markers. Kalākaua and Kapi‘olani are standing to the right. Courtesy Archives of Hawai‘i (2354).

compounds of the 1820s to 1840s and functioned as the primary spaces for competitive chiefly displays of social, political, and economic power to rival those of other chiefs and missionaries settling in the kingdom.41 Here, ali‘i showcased their wealth in imported items and their mana. As examples of transformed hale mua, Bell analyzes the civilized houses of Liholiho and Ka‘ahumanu at Pākākā Point and the first ‘Iolani Palace used by Kauikeaouli, all situated in Honolulu. Liholiho’s house incorporated Western features and contained Euro-American and Asian furnishings, while the other two civilized houses were fully Western in design, Ka‘ahumanu’s being an expensive, imported two-story prefabricated home. Kalākaua’s palace persisted in politicizing architecture through his modernized hale mua, conspicuous in the Honolulu cityscape, the center of political contention. Kalākaua and his queen Kapi‘olani did not live in the palace but preferred to reside in the adjacent Hale ‘Ākala (Fig. 19). Hale ‘Ākala was the modern adaptation of the sleeping house (hale moe) found in traditional chiefly compounds.42 Previous chiefs and rulers also reserved their palace buildings and civilized houses for public functions, simultaneously maintaining more modest living quarters. They appear to have been less comfortable conducting daily life in the stiffly formal spaces of their palaces and civilized houses, preferring to reserve these for official receptions and conducting business, similar to the functions of earlier hale mua. So, while many high chiefs built or owned Western-styled structures, they dwelled in smaller wood or traditional grass homes. Kamehamehas III, IV, and V and Lunalilo, for instance, lived in small cottages in their royal compounds, surrounded by the dwelling structures of their retainers, but

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they entertained and held audiences in their main palace structures.43 At Kamakahonu (on the island of Hawai‘i), his last residential compound, Kamehameha owned European-styled stone houses but favored his “straw palace” as the structure in which he devoted his time.44 Likewise, his descendant Ruth Ke‘elikōlani entertained and housed visitors at the Western-styled Hulihe‘e Palace in Kona, which she had inherited through the Kamehameha line, though the large grass house adjacent served as her home. When Kalākaua visited Ruth Ke‘elikōlani at Hulihe‘e, he ate at the palace but slept in her grass house,45 suggesting late-nineteenth-century chiefs did in fact perceive palaces as somewhat analogous to the traditional hale mua (eating house) and the dwelling building to the hale moe (sleeping house). ‘Iolani Palace and Hale ‘Ākala continued such functional distinctions, as the former accommodated state receptions and events, while the latter provided a comfortable private residence. As indicated above, the palace also adapted to some extent the character of a temple or heiau. It constituted both a political and religious center, much like Kamehameha’s ‘Ahu‘ena Heiau, situated within his residential compound Kamakahonu. ‘Ahu‘ena Heiau, the Hawaiian capital from 1812 to 1819, served as a space to perform religious functions and a council hall in which to discuss the kingdom’s affairs.46 The meaningful placement of ‘Iolani Palace in many ways follows the protocol for the erection of religio-political structures and chiefly homes, which, as Polynesian religious studies scholar John Charlot points out, were “chosen by experts versed in ritual and codes for reading the meaning of the land.”47 A public address written by Chief Justice and Privy Council member C. G. Harris, followed by a more detailed speech in Hawaiian presented by Minister of Foreign Affairs John M. Kapena during the Masonic cornerstone laying ceremony for the new palace,48 made explicit the sacred and chiefly associations held by its setting.49 The speakers not only detailed the previous notable residents of the site but also stated that the palace was believed to be situated on the site of an ancient temple called Ka‘ahaimauli.50 Building a chiefly structure on a sacred temple site was not uncommon; Kaniakapupu (ca. 1843), Kauikeaouli’s country residence in Nu‘uanu (northwest of the palace) and his house at Pākākā Point (also located on O‘ahu) were constructed over heiau sites, and Kekūanaō‘a’s home in the ‘Iolani grounds, Hanailoia, was located on Ka‘ahaimauli itself.51 Further enforcing its heiau associations, the palace’s lateral axis intersects the line of sight between the ocean and the great temple site Pūowaina (today commonly known as Punchbowl; Fig. 20), a kapu volcanic crater setting where human sacrifices were formerly conducted.52 Heiau were abundant in pre- and early postcontact Honolulu. In addition to the great temples of Pūowaina and Ka‘ahaimauli, two other temples lay in close proximity to the palace, if not located in the palace grounds: Kanela‘au and Mana, which acted as outposts for the main temple at Pūowaina. The heiau at Mana, whose name translates as “supernatural or divine power,” was centered about one-half block from the palace. In earlier times, human sacrifices were first drowned, then taken to Kanela‘au, and later to an altar at the summit of Pūowaina.53 Sacrificial victims were those who transgressed either of the two main divisions of kapu (prohibitions)—kapu of the gods (kapu akua)

Figure 20. Map of Honolulu showing Honolulu Harbor, ‘Iolani Palace, and Pūowaina. Map by James A. Bier. Courtesy of the cartographer and Pacific Books, Palo Alto, CA.

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and the godly kapu of chiefs (kapu akua ali‘i) of the three highest ranks. These chiefs were considered “chief gods” (po‘e akua) or “god chiefs” (ali‘i akua). Those who breached the kapu of either chiefs or gods were burned to appease those violated.54 The palace’s setting among a series of important temple sites informed the meaning of the building in light of Kalākaua’s nativist-nationalist agenda. By associating himself with sacrosanct spaces and restrictive chiefly prohibitions, he presented himself as a political and religious leader of the highest station, countering the claims of his Native detractors. The geographical position of ‘Iolani Palace also supports the notion that the building functioned in some ways as a heiau. Considered the greatest class of temples, heiau po‘o kanaka were frequently built between the shore and mountain ranges on former temple sites. Rituals performed at such heiau served to increase the population, enhance public health, preserve peace, and secure success in war.55 Also erected on or near at least one temple site, ‘Iolani Palace was similarly situated on a plain between the mountains and the sea (see Figs. 16 and 20). The dual naming of some chiefly structures may be related to this inland-ocean orientation. Alexander Liholiho and Queen Emma’s home within the ‘Iolani compound was named Ihikapukalani on the side facing the island’s interior (mauka), while the side facing the ocean (makai) was named Ka‘uluhinano.56 Similarly, ‘Iolani may have possessed two names, corresponding to its mountain-ocean orientation. Cabinet Council Minutes for 1886 occasionally indicate that meetings took place at Healani Hale. Jacob Adler and Gwynn Barrett suggest this referred either to a section of the palace or a separate building. They note that Kalākaua’s canoe club was called Healani, though this seems an unlikely place to hold Cabinet meetings.57 One might also consider the significance of ‘Iolani Palace’s location in terms of its directional in addition its to topographical orientation. The houses of high chiefs often had two entrances, one facing the home of the god Kāne, one of the major Hawaiian gods, and the other facing Kahiki, the ancestral homeland of the early Hawaiian settlers. Kalākaua was quite aware of this custom, as indicated in Daggett’s introduction to Kalākaua’s Legends and Myths of Hawaii.58 The palace’s alignment between Pūowaina and Honolulu Harbor placed its main entrance facing southwest, in the direction of Samoa, where Kalākaua believed Kahiki to be located.59 Its opposite entrance faced northeast. Accordingly, Kāne, who was associated with the rising sun and taro cultivation and represented male powers of procreation, had for his directions right, east, and north.60 The palace’s northeastern orientation and its relationship to Kāne and the rising sun corresponds to an account of Kalākaua taking at least one of three “eho rocks” of Hanakaulua from Cape Kumukahi (southeast of Hilo on the island of Hawai‘i) for use in the palace’s construction. Described by Mrs. John Porter in the “Hawaiian Ethnological Notes” housed at the Bishop Museum Archives, these eho rocks are related to the passage of the sun as it rises at Kalamaula, then passes above Hanakaulua (or Kaulua).61 In addressing the lack of attention paid to heiau orientation, archaeologist Patrick Kirch (2004) argues that heiau were not randomly situated, as has often been assumed, but were deliberately placed in relation to astronomical phenomena. His study of temple



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sites in Kahikinui, Maui, identifies three dominant heiau orientations: north, east, and east-northeast. Kirch posits an interpretation of heiau orientation that accords with the reckoning of time, the rising and setting of the sun, and the major Hawaiian deities associated with these. Based on nineteenth-century ethnohistorical accounts, he suggests the east-facing temples were linked to Kāne; temples with an east-northeast orientation were associated with Lono, a god related to agriculture, birth, and medicine; and those facing north likely honored Kū, the primary god of rulers. Whether the northeastern palace entrance was intended to face the direction of Kāne, as implied by Daggett and Kalākaua, or that of Lono, as suggested by Kirch, is uncertain. ‘Iolani’s placement does, however, correspond to dominant patterns in heiau orientation and it is plausible that its northeast-to-southwest axis was not arbitrary. Further, Kirch describes one end of the dominant axis of heiau orientation as the “sacred” direction, where religious images were placed and rituals were performed. The temple’s entrance and “audience” area were positioned at the opposite end. This corresponds to the functional division of space at ‘Iolani Palace: The king and queen’s bedrooms on the third floor and the dais supporting their thrones from which they officiated on the main floor were set to the northeast, the sacred precinct of ‘Iolani. The Guest Room and Music Room on the upper floor and the reception room (Blue Room) and area reserved for visitors in the Throne Room on the entry level faced southwest. Thus, like heiau po‘o kanaka and the Maui heiau analyzed by Kirch, ‘Iolani Palace appears to have been purposefully situated, reinforcing the interpretation of the palace as a modern translation of a heiau. In the traditional Hawaiian religio-political system, the paramount ruler was a trained ritual specialist who was required to perform the necessary temple rites securing the productivity of the land and people. The chief was the intermediary between the people and the gods, and the welfare of all depended on him (or her). Chiefliness was contingent upon the productive channeling of mana, a dynamic force associated with power and authority that originates from divine sources and is necessary for maintaining a thriving world. Possessing the right to officiate in a temple as both a chief and a priest was one indication that a person was of sacred status and therefore a true leader.62 Kalākaua himself was a recognized priest (kahuna), known (and criticized by some) for reviving traditional religious practices, which were in decline due to the impact of missionization. In erecting the palace as a temple linked to historic sacred sites, Kalākaua continued the time-honored practice of building sacred structures for the chiefdom’s (the nation’s) welfare. This was a particularly timely and profound expression of aloha by the king to his people. Since the 1819 overthrow of the kapu system (the former religious order), many major religious sites had been destroyed or neglected, replaced by architectural projects such as mission stations and Kawaiaha‘o Church, which significantly altered the political and cultural landscape.63 Countering Christian incursions on the built environment, as well as the increasing alienation of Native Hawaiians from their chiefs as the nineteenth century progressed,64 ‘Iolani Palace conveyed what Thomas considers to be the most important element of Polynesian chieftainship: “a kind

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Figure 21. Site of the first Royal Mausoleum and Crypt, ‘Iolani Palace grounds. Photograph by Viola Or, 2007. Courtesy of the photographer.

of auspiciousness manifest especially in agricultural fertility and more broadly in successful fishing and good health.”65 Presenting himself as priest-king presiding in his templepalace, Kalākaua demonstrated his role as a true and able Hawaiian ruler. The inclusion of the area known as Pohukaina contributed to the perception of ‘Iolani Palace as a sacred space and the proper site from which a kapu king should preside. This was the residence and birthplace of high chiefs and a famous chiefly burial place, also known as the Royal Mausoleum and Crypt.66 Chiefly birth and residence sites were considered hallowed ground, retaining the mana of the chiefs with which they were associated. As a chiefly burial site, Pohukaina resonated with extraordinary mana as well. Kapena spoke to this fact in his address delivered during the palace cornerstone-laying ceremony. The tomb was a coral-block, windowless building with a single entrance. Liholiho and his favorite wife, Kamamālu, were interred here in 1825 after their bodies were returned from London, where they died in 1824. Ka‘ahumanu (premier or kuhina nui, d. 1832), Kīna‘u (kuhina nui and daughter of Kamehameha I, d. 1839), Kauikeaouli (d. 1854), Abner Pākī (a Kamehameha descendant and father of Bernice Pauahi Bishop, d. 1855), Alexander Liholiho (d. 1863), and others were buried in the tomb, with lesser chiefs interred nearby. The body of John Young (ca. 1749–1835), British adviser to Kamehameha I and governor of several of the islands, was placed at the entrance to the tomb in 1835.67 Perhaps most important to Kalākaua, the tomb housed the sennit caskets of his famous ancestors Līloa and Lonoikamakahiki. Although the bodies were later moved to the larger Royal Mausoleum in a midnight torchlight procession on 30 October 1865, other ancestral relics were believed to be located at the burial site, including the bones of ancient chiefs from the famous heiau Hale o Keawe on the island of Hawai‘i.68 Kalākaua restricted access to the area to prevent desecration of the ancestral remains and ordered it to be planted with ferns and flowers (Fig. 21).69



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Figure 22. Kauikeaouli Gate, ‘Iolani Palace, 29 October 1881. Courtesy Archives of Hawai‘i (16432dr).

Pohukaina also referenced the secret chiefly burial cave of legendary fame on O‘ahu. Considered a hiding cave (ana huna), Pohukaina cave was concealed to protect the chiefly remains and possessions stored within from defilement.70 The primary cave entrances are at Ka‘a‘awa in the Ko‘olauloa District on the windward side of the island. These were said to be connected to others at Kalihi, Pū‘iwa, Ha‘ilikulamanu, and elsewhere in the Kona District (now Honolulu) to the south. Additional entrances in other O‘ahu districts were described as connected by underground passages. Native Hawaiian historian Samuel Kamakau indicated people could traverse the island through these caves, and legendary narratives described the supernatural geography here.71 Concerning the ‘Iolani Palace site, ethnohistorical sources identify an underground entrance to the cave in the Pohukaina area of the palace compound, possibly linked to the old Royal Tomb.72 The grounds were, therefore, physically and conceptually connected with sites related to both the welfare of the living (i.e., heiau) and the past (i.e., chiefly births and burials). As with ‘Iolani Palace’s location, other architectural elements countered the claims of Kalākaua’s opponents and effectively portrayed him as a “good chief ” of sacred pedigree, worthy of rule. On special occasions, such as the king’s return from his world tour, the gateways in the wall enclosing the grounds were decorated and crowned with arches (Fig. 22). This post-and-arch construction resembled the doors of pre- and early postcontact chiefly structures. Such doors were framed on each side by vertical posts, capped by an arch or crescent denoted by the term “hoaka.”73 The palace’s entrance vestibules and doorways (Fig. 23) shared a similar construction, having two posts capped with an arch,

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Figure 23. Arched vestibule and entrance of ‘Iolani Palace. Kapu markers cap the second-story verandah railings. The Coat of Arms is visible on the porch ceiling above the doorway. Photograph by Viola Or, 2007. Courtesy of the photographer.

flanked by two additional smaller arches. As noted in the context of the royal crowns displayed at Kalākaua’s coronation ceremony, hoaka was intimately associated with chiefs; it denoted “glory,” “brightness,” and “splendor” in Hawaiian verbal and visual language, offering a poetic and visual metaphor for the revered genealogy of chiefs.74 Tom Cummins argues that crescent motifs so prevalent on Hawaiian feather cloaks referred to the arching form of a rainbow, which in turn signified high chiefs and the chiefly kin relations that produced the highest-ranking offspring. Similarly, E. S. Craighill Handy interprets the shape of feather cloaks as inverted crescents and suggests that great chiefs were identified through their cloaks or capes, images of inverted rainbows representing “the sign of the alii’s magnetism, power and sacredness.” Adrienne L. Kaeppler, likewise, sees hoaka as a key aesthetic concept and form in Hawaiian sculpted figures and drums.75 Arched forms seem to have been the prerogative of chiefs, and those featured on feather garments, sculpture, and royal regalia conveyed similar meanings to arches found in architecture. Not to discount the prevalence of arched portals in contemporary Western architecture, this formal element may have had multiple significations in Hawai‘i, providing a modern and indigenous translation of the arched door. In view of the nationalist and nativist sentiments evoked by the palace, it is not surprising to find that a mid-nineteenth-century



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Hawaiian-English dictionary supplied this additional translation of hoaka: “Glory, as of a people, i.e., their liberty; freedom.”76 The imagery in the arched, etched sheet-crystal panels of the front and rear portal transoms specifically manifest conceptions of the king as the foundation of a thriving existence (Fig. 24). Clusters of taro (kalo) leaves flank the central image in the transoms. As on the Royal Crowns, the taro leaf motif references the chief as the source and guardian of life. At the center of the glass panel is the Hawaiian coat of arms. The scroll forming its lower border bears the national motto, “Ua mau ka ea o ka ‘āina i ka pono,” emphasizing the “rightness” or “righteousness” of Hawai‘i’s kings. The taro motif and national motto are surmounted by an arch, hoaka; the images are meaningfully juxtaposed, as together they formalize the chief ’s divine ancestry (hoaka) necessary to maintain the prosperity of the land and people (taro). In addition to these images, materials possessing rich historical reference contributed to the sacred character of the building and its patron. Kalākaua brought stones from Kūki‘i Heiau in Puna, Hawai‘i, to Honolulu in 1877 to be included in the foundation of ‘Iolani.77 Kūki‘i is located in an area noted for its volcanic activity—a location hosting numerous temple sites. ‘Umi, Kalākaua’s heroic ancestor, is credited with building Kūki‘i during an era of peace and prosperity in his chiefdom. Establishing his kin relation to ‘Umi was vital to Kalākaua’s efforts to legitimize his claim to the throne because, in part, it proved his descent from the great chief Lonoikamakahiki, for whom the Kumulipo was composed. Not only did ‘Umi provide a key genealogical link, he was also an indisputably renowned ruler. He was famous for his fishing, farming, and circuiting his chiefdom with the intention of developing industry and public works. He was also recognized for his piety, which in part was evidenced by his erecting and refurbishing of many heiau.78 ‘Umi’s heiau, such as that at Kūki‘i, were distinguished from other temples by the use of hewn stones (“Pohaku Kalaki a ‘Umi”), for which this chief became famous. At the turn of the century, Native informants told ethnologist John F. G. Stokes the stones making up the platform of Kūki‘i Heiau were very carefully cut and closely laid, reflecting not only a significant architectural accomplishment but also ‘Umi’s control of labor and resources and the peaceful and productive nature of his reign, which allowed the undertaking of intensive, well-crafted projects. 79 ‘Umi may have believed that this building innovation was pleasing to the gods, since “ancient Hawaiians assumed that the akua (gods) were favorably influenced by specific features of heiau design.”80 Temple building specialists (kahuna kuhikuhipu‘uone) “combined a study of Hawaiian political history, especially the careers of successful chiefs, with a knowledge of variation in heiau plans through the ages. On this basis they formulated theories about the ability of particular heiau features to aid specific chiefly ambitions.”81 In using stones from ‘Umi’s Kūki‘i Heiau in the construction of ‘Iolani Palace, Kalākaua not only perpetuated the honored chiefly practice of building sacred structures but also materially linked this practice with the building projects of his illustrious ancestor. As enduring materials and objects, stones held the mana of those with whom they were associated; Kalākaua

Figure 24. Etched sheet-crystal entrance to ‘Iolani Palace. Photograph by George Bacon. Courtesy the Friends of ‘Iolani Palace.



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incorporated a concrete architectural manifestation of his unquestionably popular and successful ancestor to encourage confidence in his own reign and to imbue his rule and his palace with the mana of glowing precedent.82 The four gateways located in the walls enclosing the palace grounds evoked more recent memories of chiefly mana and provided historical continuity in the indigenous leadership. Named and hierarchically ordered, memories of past ali‘i and historical events were bound to each of these entryways.83 The Kauikeaouli Gate on King Street (see Fig. 22), for instance, was strongly linked to this past king; sightings of his ghost were occasionally reported, accompanied by the sound of wailing.84 Members of the royal family, cabinet ministers, foreign officials, and military officers used this gate on state occasions or for official business calls. It was open for public use only on extraordinary occasions, such as Kalākaua’s coronation. Kīna‘u Gate, located on Richards Street, honored this kuhina nui (premier) and mother of Kamehamehas IV and V. Individuals making formal calls on the royal family used this entrance. Retainers and the Household Guards entered on Hotel Street85 through the Hāli‘imaile or Hakaleleponi Gate, named in honor of Queen Hakaleleponi Kapakuhaili Kalama, consort of Kamehameha III. The Likelike Gate, identified with Kalākaua’s sister, Miriam Kapili Likelike, served as private access for royalty.86 Those entering the ‘Iolani grounds through these gateways performed an act of homage to Native royalty and rulership. Materially and spatially referencing temporally distant great rulers such as ‘Umi and notable ali‘i nui of the nineteenth century, such as the nativist Kauikeaouli and Kalama, the palace embodied great mana and insisted on historical stability.

Temple-Palaces and Divine Kings The grand opening of ‘Iolani Palace coincided with Kalākaua’s coronation on 12 February 1883 and constituted the primary setting for much of the festivities, which lasted until the 24th of the month.87 To mark the occasion, colonnades were draped in red and white, walkways were covered in red cloth, the king’s monogram adorned each pillar, and the national coat of arms flanked the stairway leading to the main entrance. It provided the theater for events intended to leave a lasting impression on Native Hawaiian and international communities. Contextualized within the coronation, ‘Iolani Palace integrated conceptions of sacred Hawaiian rulership and Western forms denoting sovereign statehood. It intended to garner trust in the king’s ability—and right—to properly govern and to bring good fortune to the people; the palace formed part of his statement of kingship. Public confirmation of Kalākaua’s leadership recalled the transfer of mana at sacred investiture rites performed at hale mana, temple structures, from precontact times to the early nineteenth century.88 And the palace, built primarily through Native labor, suggested that the king’s rule enjoyed popular support and indicated his control over local resources. During the coronation, Kalākaua invited the general public to an open house and ho‘okupu, a ceremonial gift-giving showing honor and respect to a chief.

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Foods accumulated for the feasts were redistributed to the people, as was customary in earlier times. Kalākaua fulfilled his duties as a good chief, as implied in the Hawaiian proverb, “Ho‘i pu‘olo no o kahi ali‘i” (“One returns with a bundle from the place of the chief ”).89 His demonstration of chiefly wealth and generosity signified his mana. Kalākaua’s palace also attested to the continuity between successful rulers of the past and his own reign. Kapena’s speech at the cornerstone-laying ceremony recalled the past prominent servants of the government who had performed their duties on the site of ‘Iolani Palace—“those who served and labored for the good of the country and the progress of the nation”—and compared them to the present regime: “Should any one consider that it is a light and easy task to conduct the affairs of our Island government he will be mistaken, for evidently it will require all the skill, the watchful care, the patience, the caution and the industry that can be bestowed in the future, in order to secure the well-being of the people and the prosperity of the Government.”90 Through the coronation, an event informed by its placement within the historically significant ‘Iolani grounds, Kalākaua displayed his ability and the ancestral backing to accomplish the task.91 Not only did the palace symbolize the sacred rule of the king founded in deep history, it marked a critical temporal juncture in articulating the progress and projecting the future of the kingdom. The Western form and technological innovations incorporated into the structure and the very existence of the building testified to Hawai‘i’s modernity. The two principal speakers at the cornerstone-laying ceremony, Harris and Kapena, detailed the positive changes that had taken place in the course of the century. They compared the ‘Iolani Palace region of the past to the contemporary condition of the area by enumerating the advances made in architecture, city planning, transportation, communication, commerce, and industry. They contrasted earlier periods of warfare and social upheaval with the current era of peace and prosperity brought about by agricultural and industrial development and suggested that this architectural monument was evidence of how far Hawai‘i had progressed and would continue to advance under Kalākaua, who “[gave] new life to the land.”92 ‘Iolani Palace could dazzle the resident haole and international audiences assembled for the coronation, as well as resonate with the hopes and values of the Native population. It was an authentically modern and traditional Hawaiian symbol of the state of the nation.





C hapter 3



Memorializing the Monarchy



The King Kamehameha Monument

The bronze monument honoring Kamehameha I, also known as “the Conqueror” (Fig. 25), is perhaps the most widely recognized and frequently photographed public artwork in Hawai‘i. Larger than life size and poised on a ten-foot pedestal, the portrait depicts Kamehameha arrayed in golden garments, supporting a tall, barbed spear in his left hand, and beckoning to his people with his outstretched right arm. Since its unveiling in 1883, travel writing and popular publications have often featured this sculpture; it is a favorite among postcard images, and replicas have been viewed by international audiences at world fairs and in the Statuary Hall of the United States Capitol subsequent to its dedication in 1969. Building on Jacob Adler’s and John Charlot’s historical analyses of the Kamehameha Monument,1 this chapter examines the nationalist content of the monument and details the representational strategies employed by the Kalākaua administration to present an appropriate image of the Hawaiian nation. The monument is similarly aligned with the nationalist aspirations manifest in Kalākaua’s coronation and ‘Iolani Palace. However, its form as a figurative monument contributed to Hawaiian modernity in different ways. In the late nineteenth century, non-Native viewers saw the statue as testament to their “civilizing” influences in the Hawaiian Islands, a marker of their own successes. For Native Hawaiian viewers, the style and iconography of the monument placed Hawai‘i’s distinguished tradition of Native leadership in a global context.

Kamehameha I: “Napoleon of the Pacific” The U.S. Centennial Exposition of 1876 in Philadelphia prompted Walter Murray Gibson to organize similar observances for Hawai‘i.2 During the legislative session of 1878, Gibson, then a freshman representative for Lahaina (Maui), proposed a centennial day of observance of British explorer Captain James Cook’s arrival in the Islands in 1778 and a monument to be erected for the occasion. However, reversing discourses of discovery that defined European and Native as, respectively, active and passive actors in the contact encounter, he suggested that the monument should memorialize Kamehameha I, the ali‘i

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Figure 25. The King Kamehameha Statue in front of Ali‘iōlani Hale, the Judiciary Building. Photograph by Malia Johnson, 2007. Courtesy of the photographer.

nui whose legendary skills in leadership permitted “the introduction of this archipelago to the knowledge of the civilized world”: [Kamehameha] was among the first to greet the discoverer Cook on board his ship in 1778 . . . and this Hawaiian chief ’s great mind, though a mere youth then, well appreciated the mighty changes that must follow after the arrival of the white strangers. He met destiny with the mind of a philosopher and a patriot, and Kamehameha, the barbarian conqueror, welcomed the new era with the spirit of an enlightened statesman; he made the white men his friends.3

Selecting Kamehameha as the subject for a national monument was influenced by international recognition of the Conqueror’s heroism and character. Captains James Cook and George Vancouver published praiseworthy descriptions of Kamehameha in the late eighteenth century; invariably, they described him as dignified, astute, graceful, and physically powerful.4 An account circulated early in the following century in the North American Review lauded the Hawaiian king as a “copper-colored Alexander” and detailed several events in which he “and his subjects fared much better than their ‘civilized’ adversaries.”5 Another nineteenth-century American historian wrote: “Had he been cast in Europe instead of the remotest islands of the sea . . . [he] would have figured



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as one of the most conspicuous figures in history. . . . No king in history ever knew better how to rule his people.”6 In addition to frequent comparison with Napoleon, gaining him the popular nickname “Napoleon of the Pacific” in Western accounts, his achievements were likened to those of Egbert of England.7 Gibson—and John M. Kapena speaking in Hawaiian after him—emphasized Kamehameha’s indispensable role in unifying Hawai‘i and setting the foundation for “free and enlightened government.”8 They characterized the Island polity as now evincing “a spectacle of senatorial deliberation and decorum” that “compare[d] favorably with parliamentary proceedings in many older and more cultured civilizations.” In his proposal, Gibson chronicled the character and achievements of each of the kings succeeding Kamehameha, emphasizing how each built upon the first king’s accomplishments in sustaining peace, advancing society, government, and industry, and improving the quality of life for all. He presented Kalākaua as the culmination of the past and as the hope for the future: “This reign and this era have splendid opportunities[,] for it is Kalakaua’s privilege, as the crowned and anointed King of Hawaiians, to become the foremost man of Polynesia, . . . even of all aboriginal Oceania.” Gibson was a prime mover in promoting Kalākaua’s “Primacy of the Pacific” foreign policy of the mid-1880s and entertained visions of a unified Oceanic empire headed by the king and, needless to say, himself. Drawing connections between the Conqueror Kamehameha and the cosmopolitan Kalākaua, the public monument supported and gave form to these imperial aspirations. The monument signaled the nation’s modernity and heralded its continued sovereignty. Kalākaua’s reign, indeed, witnessed great social and economic developments: a successful sugar industry, infrastructural improvements (roads, harbors, bridges, public transportation), nearly universal literacy, and improved international standing gained through intensive diplomatic activity. Hawai‘i had truly modernized. Gibson argued that this century of progress was worthy of remembrance in permanent form and that the very act of commemorating, particularly in the elevated form of an artwork, was indicative of an enlightened polity. In his study of history and memory, Jacques Le Goff (1992) describes the development of a strong commemorative spirit in the nineteenth century. Modes of commemorating such as coins, medals, stamps, statuary, and collections were pursued with hearty appetite in this “century of history.”9 Hawai‘i was clearly engaged in this historical phenomenon; it too had created its own national coinage, postage, library, and museum. Gibson’s proposal for a permanent, public memorial was consistent with these efforts to formalize and memorialize the nation: And is not this history at which we have glanced worthy of some commemoration? All nations keep their epochs and their eras. Rome dated from her foundation, and Greece from her Olympic games. Iceland, the dreary, frozen isle, a little while ago celebrated her thousandth year since her discovery and settlement; and a King, and great nobles and statesmen from foreign lands were pleased to take part in the celebration. The great centennial of America and its celebration are fresh in our memories. By commemorating

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notable periods, nations renew as they review their national life. And they mark the commemoration with some monument or memorial. Usually it was a temple or a statue, or a medal. In modern times, eras are marked by exhibitions of material progress,10 as well as works of art. . . . Some would appreciate a utilitarian monument, such as a prominent lighthouse; others, a building for instruction or a museum; and I highly appreciate the utilitarian view, yet I am inclined to favor a work of art. And what is the most notable event, and character, apart from discovery, in this century, for Hawaiians to commemorate? What else but the consolidation of the archipelago by the hero Kamehameha? The warrior chief of Kohala towers far above any other one of his race in all Oceanica [sic]. His character, in view of his remarkable situation will ere long largely command the attention of thoughtful and noble minds of all lands. The appreciation of his character I hope to promote with my feeble pen; and his fame will be praised as a proud memento for Hawaii. Therefore let Hawaiians, especially you Hawaiian Nobles and Representatives, lift up your hero before the eyes of the people, not only in story, but in everlasting bronze. Thus enlightened nations commemorate their heroes and good men.

Concluding his proposal, Gibson linked the monument to sustaining the independence of the nation. In requesting funding from the Legislature, he suggested the statue, as “an expression of our advanced civilization,” would bring Hawai‘i honor and respect. He beseeched the nobles and representatives, “care for your country, your nationality, and your independence.” The proposal succeeded; the Legislature approved $10,000 for the project. Given that the monument was intended in part to reflect the civility of the Hawaiian nation, an accomplished, academically trained artist was sought to design and execute the statue. Gibson traveled to the United States to visit artists’ studios in a number of cities; he eventually commissioned Boston sculptor Thomas Ridgeway Gould (1818–1881) to carry out the project. Gould had, in the 1850s, worked with American sculptor and writer William Wetmore Story in Seth Cheney’s Boston studio.11 After the Civil War, he began a full-time career modeling portraits, producing likenesses of prominent Massachusetts citizens, especially in Boston. Like many sculptors, Gould sought commissions for ideal allegorical works and, after he moved to Italy in 1868, created many such pieces. He enthusiastically pursued a contract with Gibson to design the heroic figure of Kamehameha. The Monument Committee (Gibson, Kapena, Archibald S. Cleghorn, Simon K. Kaai, and Joseph K. Nāwahī) supported Gould’s design. Americans living in Hawai‘i, particularly missionaries and their descendants, were also pleased with the choice of artist because they saw it “fitting that Boston, which first sent Christian teachers and ships [of] commerce to the Islands, should have the honor of furnishing this commemorative monument for Hawaii.”12 The Hawaiian Almanac and Annual and the Pacific Commercial Advertiser publicized Gould’s credentials in glowing terms, assuring the public that the committee had chosen a renowned and qualified artist and that the finest talent in Europe was to be engaged: “The statue, though designed by an artist of Boston, will be executed in the city of Florence, Italy; and in the manipulation of the work, the skilled fingers of



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Figure 26. Roman emperor Augustus Caesar reviewing his troops. Braccio Nuovo, Chiaramonti Museum of the Vatican Museums. Photograph by Michael Wilson, ca. 1970. Courtesy of the photographer.

Italian artists will be employed.”13 As Gould progressed on the sculpture, they published accounts of individuals who had admired the work in Gould’s Florence studio and at the Paris foundry where it was cast. Gibson, in his speech before the Legislature of 1880, made sure to note that the statue “had been exhibited in Paris before sculptors and other scientific men, and it had really been an interesting advertisement for this country.”14 It was important to the committee to produce a monument that carried the cultural authority of the Euro-American academic art tradition. In so doing, the leadership believed Hawai‘i would attract the interest and admiration of “older and enlightened nations.” The heroic neoclassical work would signal the kingdom’s progress “by calling upon the art of the highest civilization to provide a noble and enduring commemorative monument.”15 Advocates of the “pure” forms of neoclassical art supported the universal application of this aesthetic to express Victorian values. Classical forms were believed to be ideal and timeless; they were antithetical to the temporal, vulgar qualities of sensuality, materiality, eroticism, and animalism.16 Because the Monument Committee wished to counter Western perceptions of Hawai‘i’s barbarism (and a figurative sculptural tradition that early observers described as comprised of crude and grotesque idols), it selected an internationally recognized style to convey the kingdom’s advocacy of universal ideals. The classical model chosen for the statue exemplified this point. The pose was an adaptation of a figure of the Roman emperor Augustus Caesar reviewing his troops, holding a staff in his left hand and with his right arm raised, which was discovered in Prima Porta, Rome in 1863 (Fig. 26). On

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the Kamehameha statue, the contrapposto stance is maintained, with the weight resting on the right leg, as is the modeling of the upper torso (Fig. 27). Correspondence between Gibson and Gould indicates the extent to which they worked to make Kamehameha’s golden feather cloak resemble elegantly rendered cloth, draped over Kamehameha’s left arm, much like that of Augustus Caesar’s robe.17 Slight changes were made, however. Kamehameha’s left hand was raised higher on the spear than that of the Roman model and the palm of the upraised right hand gestured inward rather than pointing outward as on the Augustus figure. And, while the Augustus statue was carved from white marble, the Kamehameha statue was cast in bronze.

Kamehameha, Kalākaua, and Pono Rule In his 1878 proposal for the monument, Gibson described the century of progress marked by Kamehameha and Kalākaua in a series of contrasts; he presented an image of “half-naked savages, mingling their loud, discordant cries with the dissonant beat of the ancient rude drum. The smoke for a sacrifice ascends, and we can picture an uplifted club falling upon a victim to beat out his brains, where now the mallet of our worthy President only strikes to preserve peace and good will. This, O, Hawaiians! this stride from savage disorder to our present order, is something worthy of your commemoration.” Though wholly supportive of the monument, Gibson’s speech did not escape primitivizing pre- and early postcontact Hawai‘i in his equating the past with brutish barbarism and marking the modern era of progress and civilization with the arrival of Cook. It is doubtful that Kalākaua and his Native followers would have described Kamehameha and his contemporaries as uncivilized, rude, or disordered, nor would they have imaged him as such. While the monument proposal garnered Native and non-Native approval, it held different meanings for different audiences. Much of the monument’s communicative intent, directed to Native Hawaiian audiences, was based on the affinities forged between Kamehameha and Kalākaua rather than the vast sea of change between their reigns. The subject and iconography of the statue expressed Native Hawaiian values, historical narratives, and political agendas. Engaging Western visual language the monument generated a counterdiscourse centered on the relationship, cultivated by Kalākaua, between himself and Kamehameha to lend legitimacy to his kingship. The conceptual connection between the two rulers was one of the major themes of Kalākaua’s reign, made explicit and public with the presentation to Kalākaua of Kamehameha’s golden feather robe during the coronation ceremony a few days prior to the statue’s unveiling. Kalākaua deeply admired the earlier king, writing of him, “Kamehameha was a man of tremendous physical and intellectual strength. In any land and in any age he would have been a leader. . . . He was more feared and admired than loved and respected; but his strength of arm and force of character well fitted him for the supreme chieftaincy of the group, and he accomplished what no one else could have done in his day.”18 To Native Hawaiians of the



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Figure 27. The Kamehameha Statue. Photograph by Betsy Kamehiro, 2006. Courtesy of the photographer.

1870s and 1880s, Kamehameha was an innovative and able leader. Having achieved the unification of the islands, he worked to reestablish peace and prosperity, creating what some historians have called Hawai‘i’s Golden Age.19 It was imperative that Kalākaua demonstrate his equal status to the Kamehameha line of rulers. As noted above, many believed the destiny of the nation was tied to the Kamehamehas, and no one had the authority to challenge their leadership.20 Sponsoring and unveiling the statue during his coronation observances, introducing the image as a national symbol, Kalākaua affirmed his intent to continue the Conqueror’s example of leadership in providing for the kingdom’s people, maintaining unity and independence, and prudently engaging Hawai‘i in international affairs. Kamehameha’s reputation as an activist king was undisputed. In addition to being known as a cunning strategist and extraordinarily gifted and fearless warrior, he labored with his own hands, farming, fishing, and making cloth. His territories were called “fat lands” (‘āina momona), signaling the health of the population and the benefits of peace. Abundant accounts of his generosity, integrity, justness, piety, and of the laws he instituted to preserve natural resources (e.g., prohibiting overfishing, regulating the amounts of sandalwood cut from the forests, restricting the numbers of birds killed for feathers), protect the common people, and end chiefly oppression circulated throughout the century.21 Creating and maintaining his kingdom through sheer personality, strength, intelligence, and foresight established Kamehameha as a legendary figure.

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The statue represented the characteristics of a good chief, and—as through the images presented at his investiture ceremony and ‘Iolani Palace—Kalākaua signified his own reign as one of pono through his patronage of the monument. “Pono,” which refers to “goodness,” “righteousness,” or perfect social equilibrium, was perpetuated so long as the ali‘i nui cared for the land and its people and the people supported their chiefs.22 According to nineteenth-century ethnohistorical accounts, good chiefs were rare; most chiefs were given to robbery, hoarding, murder, extortion, and ravishing. Ineffective chiefs were characterized as miserly and insatiable; they hoarded resources, pillaged communities, and governed by anger, resentment, and cruelty. In contrast, honorable leaders actively developed the resources of the land to provide for both the chiefs and the commoners. Good leaders are described as cultivating fields, building irrigation systems and fishponds, and circuiting their lands to ensure everyone was well provided for. They were kind, just, humble, benevolent, and generous. They were also devout; they built temples and performed rituals in honor of their gods. If chiefs ruled well, the people brought them gifts (ho‘okupu) rather than tribute. In these ways, chiefs maintained the unity and stability of their lands. A ruler’s right to be the supreme executive persisted only as long as he did right; if he became oppressive, his chiefs and commoners rebelled, offering their loyalties to rival chiefs.23 By the last quarter of the nineteenth century, Kamehameha was perceived as an exemplar. As Native historian David Malo, writing in the 1830s, declared, “There were few Kings who conducted themselves properly as Kamehameha I did. He looked well after the peace of the land.”24 In the statue, Kamehameha’s gesture reinforced this idea. His right palm was turned upward with his fingers slightly bent inward, which Gibson interpreted as representing “the successful warrior inviting the people to accept the peace and order that he had secured.” This cohered with Kalākaua’s bidding all his people, chief and commoner alike, to join him in celebrating his kingship at the coronation festivities—the hula, feasts, and illuminations. Echoing precontact practices, these acts of affection and magnanimity affirmed the Hawaiianness of the king; as Osorio points out, this was the first time in recent memory that Native Hawaiians had been invited to enjoy a ruler’s hospitality.25 Kalākaua’s record of public service resembled that of Kamehameha, though now of a different nature.26 Prior to accepting his royal office, he was a vocal contributor to public debates and leader of a political and military organization called the “Young Hawaiians,” which was dedicated to protecting Hawaiian independence. As noted earlier in this study, Kalākaua’s journalistic activism is significant. He served as an editor of Ka Hoku o ka Pakipika, the only Hawaiian language newspaper at the time controlled by Native Hawaiians and that gave voice to their concerns, and he supported other published serials. In her historical study of Hawaiian newspapers, Chapin identified important themes in the Hawaiian nationalist press that distinguished them from the missionary and other establishment newspapers: “One, a conviction that Hawaiians knew what was best for themselves; two, an awareness that the decline of the native population was a serious matter; three, an insistence that Hawai‘i remain an independent nation; four, a deep respect for the monarchy;



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and five, a great love for their land.”27 Kalākaua’s various undertakings in art, literature, politics, and public policy were consistent with these principles. In other ways, Kalākaua worked to serve and strengthen the Native population, which he understood as necessary for political stability. Like Kamehameha, he frequently toured his kingdom, delivering inspiring speeches in an effort to revitalize Native morale. In a speech given on Maui soon after his election, he said, I have come hither to see you, as my children, and that you may look upon me as your father. . . . The principal object which I have had in view in making this journey among my people, is that we may all be incited to renewed exertions for the advancement and prosperity of our nation, the extinction of which has been prophesied. . . . But shall we sit still, and indolently see the structure erected by our fathers fall to pieces without lifting a hand to stay the work of destruction? If the house is dilapidated, let us repair it. Let us thoroughly renovate our own selves to the end that causes of decay being removed, the nation may grow again with new life and vigor, and our Government may be firmly established—that structure which our fathers erected.28

As his address continued, he recalled and pledged to continue a maxim of Kamehameha’s reign: “The old men, the old women, and the children may sleep by the wayside without fear.” Likewise, he evoked sayings associated with succeeding Kamehameha rulers, promising their perpetuation in his reign and concluded by presenting his own pledge: “The man and woman who shall live correctly and bring forth children, they are my people.” His words were met with deep emotion and enthusiasm. The king’s assurances were addressed in a number of public policy, social, and cultural measures. Kalākaua and Kapi‘olani sponsored a society called Ho‘oulu Lāhui (“Increase the Nation”), which became a motto of his administration. He was active in reducing taxes for large families and took steps toward improving the health and reducing infant mortality rates of Native Hawaiians. To improve morale and strengthen cultural identity through the arts, Kalākaua was instrumental in reviving traditional song, poetry, and dance. Despite missionary restrictions and condemnation, performances had persisted throughout the century, though in fairly clandestine fashion. Kalākaua celebrated these cherished Hawaiian traditions by sponsoring their public performance at his coronation and at other major events, thereby sanctioning them as national customs and rekindling pride in Native Hawaiian culture.29 And, as previously noted, Kalākaua established the Board of Genealogy of Hawaiian Chiefs and the Hale Nauā Society to record Hawaiian history and pursue scientific study. Even Queen Emma, Kalākaua’s political rival, remarked on his activism in her letters to her cousin Peter Kaeo. She admired his ambition and the energy he devoted to obtaining his goals. He was not idle, and his activities gained him public confidence.30 Perhaps the most powerful representation of the affinity between Kamehameha and Kalākaua that informs the significance of the Kamehameha Monument is the national

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anthem written by Kalākaua early in his reign, Hawai‘i Pono‘ī (“Hawai‘i’s Own [People]”), originally titled Hymn of Kamehameha I.31 Charlot describes the phrase “Hawai‘i Pono‘ī” as “a stroke of poetic genius, suggesting . . . the unity of the nation as well as its problems: there are those who truly belong to Hawai‘i and those who do not. Pono‘ī is a composite of pono—in the sense of what is one’s rightful property, truly one’s own—and ‘ī, an archaic intensifier.”32 He also points out the clear link between the two kings evoked in the anthem’s chorus (hui), in which Kalākaua, together with Kamehameha, will defend the nation: Makua lani e Kamehameha e Na kāua e pale Me ka ihe

Father above us all Kamehameha It is for us two to fend off with his spear.

Charlot contrasts this national hymn with previous anthems, which invoked the Christian God for protection.

The Iconography of Hawaiian Kingship The Kamehameha Statue convincingly asserted that the hero of the century was not a foreigner (i.e., Captain James Cook) but a Native Hawaiian. The sculpture projected an idealized image of the Conqueror, and the Monument Committee ensured that the figure would be a Hawaiian one; it drew on Native models for the face and body and incorporated a distinctly chiefly iconography. Committee members made sketches and wrote letters directing the artist in executing details and making modifications. Gould was instructed to model the face of the figure after an 1816 watercolor portrait of Kamehameha painted by Louis Choris, who had traveled to Hawai‘i aboard the Rurik commanded by Otto von Kotzebue. In a letter to Gould, Gibson expressed dissatisfaction with the rendering of the face in a preliminary model and requested its revision to produce a likeness representing a younger, more vigorous Kamehameha, at about forty years old, when he unified the islands.33 Attempts on the part of the committee to maintain authenticity in the details of the work are evidenced in the attention given to revising the sandals worn by Kamehameha. Gould originally modeled Roman sandals, but the committee rejected this and sent instructions for corrections. They eventually accepted Gould’s revisions, but not with entire satisfaction. The fact that the shape and size were unlike those worn during Kamehameha’s time was noted in contemporary newspaper accounts.34 Drawings and photographs of Hawaiian spears were also provided, Kalākaua personally providing sketches and suggestions.35 To aid Gould in preparing his design, the committee sent him photographs of Hawaiian men who demonstrated a “vigorous” and “noble illustration and a correct type of superior Hawaiian manhood.”36 These included photographs of John Timoteo Baker and Robert Hoapili Baker posed as “nude Hawaiians” or wearing a feather cloak, helmet, and



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Figure 28. Robert Hoapili Baker modeling for the Kamehameha Statue wearing the Līloa feather sash and the Kamehameha feather cloak. Photograph by C. J. Hedemann, ca. 1880. Courtesy Bernice Pauahi Bishop Museum (CLS 92195).

sash, holding a spear (Fig. 28).37 Kalākaua added recommendations for adjustments in the musculature of the body.38 Kamehameha’s physique was thought to have been perfect, with well-formed and admirable features;39 when Kalākaua ordered changes, he seems to have been motivated by a desire to represent such perfection. The public celebration of a powerful Native body echoed the king’s efforts to better the health of his ailing population as promised in his motto, “Increase the Nation.” Gibson, too, seems to have had an ideal physical image of the Conqueror in mind, one figured in a document he authored during the time of the monument’s planning. In the legislative session of 1878, a special committee chaired by Gibson was appointed to attend to matters of public health. In 1881, he published Sanitary Instructions for Hawaiians, in which he deplored the loss of physical activity and vitality that accompanied missionization and changes in the traditional social order. He wrote, “The Hawaiian child has not done well, at least physically, under alien tutelage.” To inspire his Native readership, he described a dynamic Native body, drawing on classical allusions: And what is there in their stead for the cause of Hawaiian manliness? Look at the Hawaiian warrior of feudal times. We have evidence of his strength, his comliness [sic], and nobility of bearing in the battle field [sic]. He disdained the protection of a shield. His sinewy, supple arms, so swift on guard, were sufficient for both attack and defense. His wary eye had no sooner caught a glimpse of a barbed projectile, than his swift and dexterous

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guard cast it aside. And if more than one point was aimed at his breast, he foiled the missiles, though sped by arms sinewy and adroit like his own. Such a warrior . . . would have been more than a match for Homer’s heroes on the plains of Troy; and a Kamehameha who could fend off six spears hurled at him, all at one time, might have matched with Achilles, and come off conqueror.40

He appealed to Hawaiians to return to their physical activities of the past, linking the physical health of the population to the sustained independence of the nation: “Thereby an increased vigor of health will be promoted, national spirit aroused, and if danger menaces a Hawaiian Sovereign, he may hope to have, as in the days of the Conqueror, a few stout . . . and bold hearted followers to defend a nation’s cause.” An image of the scene evoked by Gibson of a warrior warding off multiple spears was included as one of the bronze panels on the base of the monument (Plate 8). In this cast, titled “Display of Courage,” the viewer sees Kamehameha from the back, dressed in a gilded feather helmet and a hint of a loincloth, as he lunges forward holding two long barbed spears in his upraised left hand and another, longer spear in his right hand, elevated to avert the projectiles hurled at him by a group of well-formed warriors in the near distance. His forward stance and upraised arms accentuate the musculature in his shoulders, back, and legs. Similar to the bronze panel, the statue depicted Kamehameha as an armed military champion, holding a long spear with barbs, accentuated by gilding, and wearing the battle garb of feathered helmet and cloak. This image reinforced Kalākaua’s promise and ability to defend the nation—an allusion made explicit in the chorus of the national anthem described above. Like the Conqueror, Kalākaua engaged Hawaiian and Western technologies to improve his armed forces. In addition to building a massive warrior force and war canoe fleet, Kamehameha purchased a three-masted foreign-built ship (named Keoua), stocked two Honolulu storehouses with guns and gunpowder, and set up a gun drilling site next to his spear-throwing field.41 Likewise, Hawaiian chiefs and foreign officials residing in the Islands made frequent note of Kalākaua’s military activity.42 Thus, while Gibson interpreted Kamehameha’s sculptural gesture as a peaceful invitation to his people, a Hawaiian language newspaper, Kuokoa, presented a more aggressive explanation that resonated with Kalākaua’s military interests: “He gestures to his enemies to come and face him because he isn’t afraid of them.” Underscoring the visual theme of the warrior-king, the unveiling ceremony featured a military Honor Guard, commanded by Major Leleo, and Kalākaua dressed in full military attire. Numerous declarations of Hawaiian independence and affirmations of Hawaiian culture and history in the speeches delivered during the event and the playing of Hawai‘i Pono‘ī at the moment of presentation conveyed the nation’s preparedness to resist invaders.43 The Conqueror’s gilded garments, particularly the crested feather helmet (mahiole) and feather cloak, which were worn by chiefs in battle, contributed to the visual representation of his heroic warrior body. Painted with gold, they also visually formalized allusions to “brilliance” and “shining,” characterizing Kamehameha’s and Kalākaua’s leadership and



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Figure 29. Feather sash (kā‘ai) of Līloa (BPBM 1910.018.001). Courtesy Bernice Pauahi Bishop Museum (CA1641).

rank. Another commanding iconographic element centered on the feather sash (kā‘ai) wrapped around Kamehameha’s waist and draped over his left shoulder, which, like the coronation regalia and ‘Iolani Palace, referred to the idea of Kalākaua as a sacred descendant of great and popular chiefs. Brigham suggested the garment more accurately be called a cordon as it could not have been worn as a loincloth (malo).44 The sash, or cordon, is a depiction of an unusual example of featherwork, the only complete example of three known in Hawai‘i. The central panels, front and reverse, consist of red feathers, which are thickly bordered in yellow feathers (Fig. 29; Catalogue No. 348). Roger Rose (1978), in his important study of feather girdles of Tahiti and Hawai‘i, notes that the netting technique used to form the foundation of the work is done in an early style, suggesting the sash predates the earliest feather cloaks in Hawaiian collections. It is also an atypical example of featherwork because feathers are woven into both sides of the garment.45 Kalākaua gained possession of the sash in 1877 and later ordered it to be incorporated into the monument.46 According to Nākuina’s catalogue entry for this item as a holding of the Hawaiian National Museum, the sash was used by ‘Umi as proof of his chiefly status inherited by Līloa.47 ‘Umi was born of a romantic liaison between Līloa and Akahiakuleana. Before returning to the capital in Waipi‘o, Līloa left several personal possessions with Akahiakuleana so that the child could later seek him out and show evidence of his paternity. While Nākuina identified the feather garment as one of the belongings Līloa left with Akahiakuleana, other versions of the ‘Umi narrative yield some confusion regarding the array of items given by Līloa to Akahiakuleana. Most sources do not note whether the garment was made of bark cloth (kapa) or woven with feathers. Kamakau describes a feather cape, omitting the loincloth as part of the regalia left by Līloa, and Fornander mentions a feather wreath (lei hulu) in addition to the loincloth and an ivory pendant.48 In any event, some feathered item appears to have been included in the collection of chiefly objects left for ‘Umi, and the feather cordon was believed, at the time of

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Kalākaua, to be part of these materials. That Kalākaua accepted this provenance, as well as the claim that Kamehameha had subsequently inherited the garment several generations later, is evidenced in a document inventorying his personal possessions, written in his hand, which lists the item as “malo kaei hulu o Kamehameha” (“feather loincloth sash of Kamehameha”). Kalākaua’s frequent display of the sash indicates its function as a symbol of his ancestry and kingship. He prominently presented it with his family’s collection of Hawaiian material culture during his fiftieth birthday jubilee celebration in 1886 (Fig. 30); at the Grand Bazaar public exhibition held in Honolulu in 1888; in the Hawaiian National Museum; on his throne, with feather robes; and during other ceremonial occasions.49 Like many of the coronation regalia, Kalākaua valued the sash as a symbol of his inherited kapu status and the legitimacy of his royal accession. Although there is no definitive evidence for the exact function of this type of feather garment in precontact Hawaiian society, it was associated with high chiefs and probably played a role in installation rites, as in Tahiti. It is possible that the use of feather sashes in investiture rites was introduced to Hawai‘i from Tahiti during the great migration period, perhaps when Pa‘ao and Pili arrived in Hawai‘i.50 Bishop Museum archaeologist John F. G. Stokes suggested it was Pili who introduced the feather sash investiture to Hawai‘i. He also noted “the kā‘ai in Pilikaaiea’s name is Hawaiian for ‘girdle,’ and that ea is . . . ‘spirit, vital breath,’ so that the combination might with some slight stretch of the imagination be translated as ‘divine girdle.’ On the other hand, if the name were spelled Pilikaaiia, it would mean ‘girded Pili’ and leaves no doubt as to the significance of the name.”51 Kalākaua believed the sash represented ancient installation protocol from Kahiki and, more specifically, that it was the supreme chiefly possession used in the inheritance of high kapu status. This is supported by an inscription written by Kalākaua for a painting of the feather sash by Ella Smith Corwine made around 1890 (Plate 9): “The Royal Feather Sash or Cordon of King Liloa of Hawaii, supposed to be 350 years old and conferred by investiture upon his Son Umi in the year 1548 in the Heiau o Pakaalana. Receiving as his heirship the Sacred taboo of Wohi!”52 According to Hale Nauā documents from 1886, it was the act of draping this very cordon by paramount chiefess Keakealani (daughter of Iwikauikaua) over the shoulders of her grandson Lonoikamakahiki, Kalākaua’s ancestor honored in the Kumulipo,53 that validated the bestowal of kapu privileges.54 The feather cordon was a rightful possession of the reigning king of Hawai‘i even in the late nineteenth century. While it is curious that the sash was not featured as an investiture garment during his coronation, Kalākaua did have it photographed as part of the regalia worn by Robert H. Baker as a reference for Gould in designing the Kamehameha Monument (see Fig. 28).55 Modeling the statue with the feather sash proved to be problematic for Gould and the Monument Committee. Several letters and published accounts describe the difficulties in properly rendering the sash well into the first year of the statue’s planning. No one at that time had ever seen such a sash worn, which explains the confusion as to how it should be properly displayed (see Plates 10 and 11).56 Some argued that the sash would never have been worn together with a feather cloak. This was not of primary consequence to



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Figure 30. The feather sash of Līloa displayed (draped in the background center) as part of Kalākaua and Kapi‘olani’s collection of Hawaiian material culture at ‘Iolani Palace. Photograph attributed to J. J. Williams, ca. 1886. Courtesy Archives of Hawai‘i (1995-018).

Kalākaua; the presence of the sash in the monument carried broader meaning, signifying Kamehameha as a kapu chief. As a possession of Kalākaua, it represented his own sacred descent. Incorporated into a national monument, it signaled the legitimacy of past and present rulers of the nation. Referring again to Kalākaua’s national anthem, one sees the connection between Kamehameha and Kalākaua as rulers of lofty status: Hawai‘i Pono‘ī Nana i kou mo‘i Kalani Ali‘i Ke Ali‘i

Hawai‘i in the right Look to your King The Sacred King The heavenly King.57

In this verse, as in the chorus (hui), “lani” is an honorific term meaning “sky,” “heaven,” or “exalted,” and, like the brilliant gilding of the sculpture’s feather garments, references the chief(s)’s high station.58 Giving added visual form to the theme of heights, likening Kalākaua’s status and stature to that of Kamehameha, the sculpture and pedestal rose to a height of nearly twenty feet (see Fig. 25).

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The feather sash as an iconographic element, together with the subject of Kamehameha, referred to the capacity of a usurping chief to prove himself a worthy leader. Kamehameha did not inherit his position as a ruling chief of Hawai‘i. Through force, he overthrew the chosen heir, his cousin Kīwala‘ō (son of Kalani‘ōpu‘u), and became a powerful ruler. Prominently displayed in the monument, the feather sash made reference to Kamehameha’s achieved leadership and recalled another usurping chief, ‘Umi. ‘Umi’s half-brother, Hākau, was given rule of the chiefdom due to his more qualified genealogy. Yet ‘Umi overthrew his unpopular sibling and lived to be remembered as a great Hawaiian hero. Kamakau contrasts the pono character of ‘Umi with that of his half-brother; while ‘Umi was noted for his good deeds, humility, piety, skills in war, and diligent labor for his people, Hākau was known as a cruel, pleasure-seeking philanderer.59 Reinforcing his own claims to rule as a non-Kamehameha, Kalākaua consciously inserted the stories (mo‘olelo kahiko) of members of lesser chiefly lines who had become great leaders into the Hawaiian national narrative.60 In addition to Kamehameha and ‘Umi, he publicized the stories of Māui and Kawelo, both chiefs of secondary lineages who, through their own great skill, effort, and mana, surpassed their genealogical superiors. They appear in the Hawaiian language newspaper Ka Hoku o ka Pakipika, the coronation performances, hula and floats featured in the king’s Jubilee celebration, and historical tableaux designed for the Independence Day (Lā Kū‘oko‘a) observances of 1886. The four reliefs on the base of the statue imaged other popular narratives of the time. Representing well-known events from Kamehameha’s life, these reinforced Kalākaua’s conception of Native kingship. In 1880, Honolulu architect and contractor Robert Lishman was commissioned to construct the ten-foot base for the sculpture.61 Gould cast four thirty-inch square bronze panels, which were mounted on the faces of the pedestal. The scenes depict Kamehameha as (1) a young chief visiting Captain James Cook on board the H.M.S. Resolution off the coast of Lahaina, Maui; (2) a warrior warding off several spears at once; (3) a conqueror reviewing his peleleu fleet of war canoes from the cliffs of Kohala, Hawai‘i; and (4) the maintainer of peace and unity, as exemplified by his decree “Ka Māmala-hoe Kānāwai” (“The Law of the Splintered Paddle”),62 which ensured the protection of the helpless from the exploitation and violence of the strong. The panel (Plate 12) representing Kamehameha and Cook meeting on the latter’s ship, with Native canoes in the waters nearby, demonstrated how Kamehameha began Hawai‘i’s engagement with the Western world. It suggested how he used his encounters with westerners to his advantage in gaining control of the Hawaiian Islands and yet maintained discretion in the adoption of foreign ways. The second and third reliefs, in which Kamehameha conspicuously stands out by his larger size relative to the other figures and through the gold paint on his feather garments, refer to the theme of Kamehameha as a skilled warrior and military engineer. In “Ka‘au Wa‘a Peleleu” (Plate 13), Kamehameha, with golden loincloth, feather helmet, and famed golden feather cloak, stands erectly with one foot forward on a steep cliff shaded by a palm tree; his left hand is poised on his hip, and he holds his right arm straight out



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directing the massive fleet of canoes filled with warriors in the bay below. The peleleu fleet consisted of more than eight hundred large double-hulled war canoes that took more than five years to assemble and which Kamehameha completed in 1796 in preparation to attack Kaua‘i.63 The other plaque, which has been described above, is entitled “Display of Courage” and depicts Kamehameha thwarting the attempts of a group of five warriors to injure him with their launched projectiles (see Plate 8). The relief located on the front of the monument was particularly germane to the statue’s late-nineteenth-century context (Plate 14). It illustrates an edict originating in 1783 that referred to the safety of Hawaiians from further loss of life and property experienced during Kamehameha’s military campaigns to unify the islands (thousands had been killed in battle). Though there are several versions of the story, they generally describe how Kamehameha, while a young chief, had raided a defenseless group of fishermen and their families on the Puna coast of the island of Hawai‘i with the intention of looting their village. During his attack, Kamehameha’s foot became lodged in the sharp coral, leaving him trapped. The fishermen then attacked him, breaking a canoe paddle over his head and fatally wounding his companion before fleeing. Years later, when Kamehameha had secured his rule over the island of Hawai‘i, he forgave the villagers for the attack, despite his advisers’ urgings to execute them, admitted his fault in the event, and declared the new law. According to Native Hawaiian writer Kukalie, “The foundation of the law of the splintered paddle was the greed and shame of a chief dealing with a common man.”64 Ma¯mala-hoe-Ka-na-wai (Law of the Splintered Paddle) O my people E na kanaka Honor thy god; A malama‘oukou i ke akua A e malama ho ‘i ke kanaka nui a Respect alike [the rights of] men â•… me kanaka iki; â•… great and humble See to it that our aged, E hele ka ‘elemakule, ka luahine, a me ke kama our women, and our children A moe i ke ala Lie down to sleep by the roadside ‘a‘ohe mea nana e ho‘opilikia without fear of harm Hewa no. Make. Disobey, and die.65

During Kalākaua’s reign, the decree took on new meaning. The king saw it as his duty to shield Native Hawaiian interests from foreigners who were making economic and political gains at their expense and reverse the tide of declining indigenous health and welfare. The visual narrative can be interpreted as a positive declaration of Kalākaua’s commitment to rule as a “good chief,” to strive for pono, as had his famous predecessor. This panel is composed in such a way that the observer’s point of view surveys the valley road curving up over a hill. On the horizon beyond the hill, one sees a Western ship. As there are no human figures populating this image, the scene is not confined to Kamehameha’s lifetime. The image is historically unspecific, allowing for temporal flexibility.

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One can interpret the relief as foretelling Kalākaua’s ability to lead the nation, on the path begun by Kamehameha, to a modern and autonomous future. As the monument was nearing completion, a debate ensued over where it should be located, “to find a site for it which will do justice, at the same time to the exquisite work of the artist and to its importance as a National Monument.”66 Kohala on the island of Hawai‘i was among the favored sites because this was the birthplace of Kamehameha I.67 In Honolulu, the suggested sites included Kapi‘olani Park in Waikīkī (then the location of an annual festival honoring Kamehameha I), Thomas Square, and the Kanoa lot (a key business district). Legislators eventually approved erecting the statue in front of the entrance to Ali‘iōlani Hale (the present-day Judiciary Building), facing Kalākaua’s ‘Iolani Palace, which was under construction at the time (see Fig. 25).68 Officially declared the capital of the nation in 1850 and the economic and political center of the kingdom, Honolulu was a politically strategic site for the monument. The court, legislature, foreign diplomats, and consular agents were all based in this city. The city also housed a concentrated foreign population and, because Native Hawaiians were increasingly becoming urban wage laborers as they were dispossessed from their lands, they too were progressively more concentrated in Honolulu. As antagonisms between Native Hawaiians and haole intensified, Honolulu became the major site of contention.69 Whoever controlled Honolulu controlled the kingdom. It was an operative choice to place a monument asserting the Hawaiianness of the nation and Hawaiian independence in this social, political, and economic center.

The Unveiling The eight-and-a-half-foot-tall statue was completed in May 1880 in Gould’s studio in Italy. Lost at sea when the ship carrying it sunk in the Falkland Islands,70 replicas of the statue and tablets were made by Gould and his son, Marshall, which arrived in Honolulu at the end of January 1883. The unveiling of the statue was to follow the coronation ceremony on the twelfth of February, but due to unfavorable weather it was delayed until the fourteenth.71 The arrangements for and speeches accompanying the unveiling ceremony emphasized the themes Kalākaua advanced in his coronation and more generally throughout his administration. Draped with the Royal Standard and Hawaiian flag, the statue was presented by the king, followed by a lengthy address by Gibson elaborating Kamehameha’s role in creating the island nation: This hero must ever be the most striking figure in the history of these Islands. He was a hero of the type which [sic] elevates a nation. It was not by mere force and conquering capacity that he became the creator of a nation out of the rude and warring tribes. He elevated them from that condition into national life. . . . Every characteristic of this Hawaiian hero indicates a man of pre-eminent courage, of prudent forecast, of correct judgment and humane spirit, and presents in fine the eminent character of one who



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was an honor to the whole human race. It is his character and acts that give significance and consequence to this Hawaiian State at this day. But for Kamehameha the Hawaiian Islands might now be sharing the condition of the dependent islands of this ocean.72

He emphasized the innate abilities of Kamehameha in his achievement, intimating that Hawai‘i did not require foreign intervention to succeed as a nation: [Kamehameha] showed in his career all those characteristics which are developed by education, by the influence of tradition and history. But no! It was from the darkness of his age and surroundings without education, without the guide and spur of tradition and the history of great predecessors and their works that this hero came forth panoplied with force, skill, and high capacity. Caesars and Alexanders have done great deeds, but what had they not of backing in traditions and education. Here was a man as isolated from the civilized world as if his sphere of life had been cast in the moon, who came forward and fulfills the character of eminent men who started with so many advantages.

As in his proposal for the monument, Gibson joined Kamehameha and Kalākaua as commencement and culmination of the nation; the monument diminished the time separating the two: By [Kamehameha] was laid the foundation of the national structure to which Kalakaua gives the finish. The first Monarch laid the foundation in the obscurity of a rude time, with his spear and strong arm. The seventh Monarch, who has just been crowned[,] perfects the national structure with all the enlightened and scientific appliances of our age. May the race of the great hero be preserved. May Hawaiians be roused to a devotion to the nationality founded by the Conqueror. His last words in dying were—“move in my good way.”

Though he perpetuated colonial characterizations of the “rude,” “dark” Hawaiian past, which likely appealed to haole viewers’ notions of the progress and civilization they had brought to the Islands, the monument’s visual celebration of a dignified history of indigenous leadership spoke with greater force to the Native audience. As Kalākaua’s national anthem sounded, truly evoked by the monument was the idea of “Hawai‘i’s Own”— Hawai‘i’s own people, ingenuity, history, culture, and leadership. The unveiling rites and the monument proved very efficacious as nationalist statements, fulfilling the prophecy published in the Pacific Commercial Advertiser several years earlier: “The work will be an honor to the country and an object of just pride to Hawaiians.”73 It generated a great deal of interest in the urban Hawaiian community, members of which lingered for days after the dedication ceremony, some chanting and singing.74 In Kohala, the dedication ceremony for the original statue that had been recovered and repaired, also officiated by Kalākaua and Gibson, evoked a similar response. After Princess Kekaulike, the governor of Hawai‘i and Kalākaua’s sister-in-law, performed the

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unveiling, the audience cheered, the Russian ship Nayezdnik fired a royal salute, and the band played Hawai‘i Pono‘ī. Native Hawaiians honored Kamehameha by placing wreaths and flower lei at the base of the monument and lingered for hours into the evening.75 Local and foreign newspapers also took note of the Kamehameha Monument and its dedication ceremony. The monument earned national and international attention and admiration.76 It succeeded as an icon of Hawaiian national identity, of “Hawai‘i for Hawaiians,” and became the centerpiece of the annual celebration of the Conqueror called Kamehameha Day. In 1871, Lota Kapuāiwa had declared June 11 a public holiday in memory of the founder of the kingdom. It has been suggested that he chose this date to upstage American Independence Day observances, which were enthusiastically celebrated by Americans in Hawai‘i. The first performance of the holiday occurred in 1872, in the open fields of Kulaokahu‘a (now part of Honolulu), and included numerous competitive games and events. In the following years, other competitions were added such as softball games and sham battles between Hawaiian military groups.77 Gambling and intense rivalry characterized these events, just as they had in precontact festivals. For example, competitive games and the redistribution of wealth were included in observations of the Makahiki, a harvest and tribute-collection festival. Following the unveiling ceremony of the Kamehameha Monument, the festival was relocated to the site of the statue in 1884. Emphasizing pageantry and display in the parades and processions leading to the monument, organizers and participants transformed Kamehameha Day into a statement of nationhood. Festivals are generally characterized by a restructuring of time and place in which desired futures and cultural goals can be enacted. Victor Turner, in his theorizing of carnivals, explains that the events represent “society in its subjunctive mood—its mood of feeling, willing, and desiring, of fantasizing, its playful mood. Not its indicative mood, where it tries to apply reason to human action and systematize the relationship between ends and means in industry and bureaucracy.”78 Play in the festival allowed contributors to dialectically “move from structure to anti-structure and back again to transformed structure.”79 This process is evident in the Kamehameha Day Festival, in which participants countered colonial ideologies, presenting images and narratives celebrating Native rulership and history. The self-conscious construction of cultural models and identities, as exemplified in the monument, its dedication ceremony, and the festival, is a selective and creative process. Groups actively shape and affirm their identities through the selection and performance of cultural symbols. The monument can be interpreted as a “summarizing symbol,” a metonymic device that integrates a complex of ideas and is especially significant as a sign of collective identity.80 To non-Native audiences, the statue signaled the civilization achieved by Western settlers in Hawai‘i. For Native Hawaiians, the Kamehameha Monument confirmed a celebrated history of civilization and was mediated by a symbolic structure that formalized notions of “tradition” and “modernity” as necessary strategies for the success of Native leadership and the survival of the kingdom. Augmenting social and economic policy, Hawaiian leaders met the challenge to their authority though symbolic means.



C hapter 4



(Re)Collecting History



The Hawaiian National Museum

The Hawaiian Kingdom’s leaders spearheading international relations and domestic affairs eagerly engaged the nineteenth-century museum phenomenon. Like many of their contemporaries in other nations, they were concerned with creating and circulating a formal, public expression of the character of the nation that reflected its accomplishments, aspirations, distinctive cultural history, and shared humanity. This chapter examines the production of national culture and history through the Hawaiian National Museum, an institution developed by Native Hawaiian chiefs and their advisers and the non-Native social and political elite from its inception in 1872 to 1891, when most of its holdings were transferred to the Bernice Pauahi Bishop Museum. As previously discussed, the question of precisely who constituted the Hawaiian nation—and therefore whom it served—was increasingly unclear as the century progressed; the purpose and character of the museum was equally murky and contested. Parties involved in its development were variously motivated. Learned individuals of Hawai‘i, Native and haole, were dedicated to the pursuit of knowledge, truth, and public instruction. Similar to companion institutions in Europe and the United States, Hawai‘i’s scientific and educational organizations participated in the production, organization, and dissemination of knowledge in an effort to contribute to the encyclopedic ordering of the world. Aligned with these scholarly goals, the museum emphasized Hawai‘i’s cultural and intellectual achievements as comparable to those of the world’s respected nations. At the same time, Kalākaua and Gibson worked to assemble a national patrimony that inspired Native confidence in the king and addressed Native welfare and internal politics. Thus, while the Hawaiian National Museum adapted anthropological and natural history models like those developed by scientific museums elsewhere in order to express the kingdom’s intellectual progress and imperial ambitions, it employed an additional museological mode—one focusing on national commemoration and history—that destabilized the meanings produced by the ostensibly ethnographic collection. Responding to the political and cultural conditions of its production, the museum evoked a multiplicity of meanings and imaginings that underscore the ambivalent nature of colonial culture. It

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must therefore be contextualized within the contexts of local cultural and political history and its relation to developing conceptions of museums, national institutions, scientific knowledge, and education in Europe and the United States. A sizable literature exists on the role of museums and exhibitions in colonial and postcolonial nations. Many studies demonstrate how nineteenth-century museums in Western nations contributed to empire building, promoting expansionist ideologies.1 Others examine how national identities were created through public museums in nation-states emergent in the nineteenth century, such as Mexico, Brazil, Costa Rica, and Australia, where settler colonial elites asserted their inheritance, yet independence, from a parent country.2 Scholarship has also addressed museums and cultural centers in decolonizing or postcolonial states of the middle to late twentieth century, such as Papua New Guinea, Fiji, Vanuatu, New Caledonia, Aotearoa (New Zealand), India, Nigeria, Mali, and Ghana.3 However, little inquiry is directed to the role of museums advanced by the indigenous leadership of an independent entity as a response to colonial pressures and cultural change. The Hawaiian case is remarkable in that it represents a situation in which a Native-led government adopted the institution of the museum as a cultural strategy to resist colonization by a foreign power, impede an internal revolution spearheaded by non-Native Hawaiians, and renew confidence in the Native population. Simultaneously, the Hawaiian National Museum formalized other nationalist discourses, permitting nonNative culture brokers, particularly those of American descent, to herald the progress and civilization they had wrought in the kingdom. Boasting their accomplishments in science and education, they persevered to demonstrate compatibility with American values, which, intentionally or otherwise, encouraged considerations of annexation.

The Museum Movement in Hawai‘i The accumulation and exhibition of objects were not novel practices for Hawaiian chiefs, who had long collected and displayed material culture through traditional venues such as arranging burial goods, accumulating chiefly relics, presenting religious images and sacrifices, and displaying tax and tribute offerings.4 The viewing of these displays was, however, largely restricted to those possessing the appropriate status and mana—chiefs and gods. Through the Hawaiian National Museum, the intended audience was expanded to include the Native and non-Native social elite, the general citizenry, foreign visitors, and international observers. In the past, the chiefly ownership and display of particular objects was an indication of mana, prestige, and power; this function continued in the National Museum, especially in expressing the authority of the king, and was enlarged to constitute a symbol of the nation’s mana. At the same time, the museum permitted Hawaiians to engage in international discourses of knowledge and power. In the framework of colonial-era collecting and museum building, objects were valued in multiple ways, shaping social relationships within Hawai‘i and abroad. As in many Polynesian societies, objects in pre- and early contact Hawai‘i accumulated significances in their display,



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gifting, or sacrifice; these exchanges maintained or generated human bonds. They did not simply flow in and out of existing frames but were constitutive of contexts and meanings. Objects and images maintained this socially productive role in the late nineteenth century, cultivating new relationships as they responded to social crises and articulated individual and national aspirations. Serving state and national agendas, museums, as social metaphors, have been powerful forms of cultural production; nations have used museums to fashion themselves in and through time. While the second half of the eighteenth century saw a rising concern with creating separate spaces to house and view objects of art and culture, it was not until the nineteenth century that states and cultural elites enthusiastically went about the business of founding museums on a large scale and amassing enormous collections. In fact, the nineteenth century has been called “The Museum Age” and the proliferation of collecting institutions has been referred to as “The Museum Movement.”5 Nearly every Western nation had established a national museum or art gallery by the middle of the century. In England, for example, the Museum Movement started in the early decades of the century and dramatically escalated in the 1870s. People in great numbers flocked to these centers of culture and knowledge, making them the most successful sites for popular education.6 In its various capacities, museums of the century presented ordered visions of “history,” “science,” “culture,” and “nation” that celebrated scientific, intellectual, and moral progress, explained connections with nature and the past, restored the relationship between humanity and the products of its labor, and integrated social and economic classes into a coherent vision of the nation. Museums, as sites of community reflection on temporality and subjectivity, embodied the conviction that art, science, and education were effective and necessary means of transcending the inequities of life, defining communities, and carrying countries into self-confident, promising futures, driven by the lessons of the past.7 Valued as an essential part of a nation’s cultural wealth, museums symbolized a state’s commitment to the preservation and development of culture.8 Just as European and American educated elites believed the maintenance of museums to be the duty of the civilized world,9 Hawaiian leaders likewise accepted this charge. Establishing a national museum was part of the ongoing efforts throughout the century to cultivate cultural and intellectual organizations in the kingdom. Roger Rose identifies several manifestations of early museums in Hawai‘i.10 For example, the Reverend John Diell added a small, two-room library and museum to the Seamen’s Bethel that he established in Honolulu in 1833. It included a cabinet of natural history specimens comprised of Hawaiian and Californian shells and Fijian weapons. These rooms later accommodated the Sandwich Island Institute (founded in 1837). The purpose of the institute, which supported a library, museum, and publication and lecture series, was “to civilize these Islands . . . [and] make known to the world much valuable information, respecting [their] formation, products and resources.”11 In the 1840s, a museum, primarily a cabinet of curiosities containing natural history and ethnological specimens, was established at Punahou School, a school founded in

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1841 on O‘ahu to educate the children of American missionary families. The Honolulu Library and Reading-Room Association (founded in 1879), an organization devoted to encouraging morality and temperance among laborers, sponsored activities related to music, art, education, and research.12 Kindred institutions with primarily Native memberships included the Hale Nauā Society (1886–1891), Ka Papa Kū‘auhau o Nā Ali‘i (The Board of Genealogy of Hawaiian Chiefs, 1880–1887), and the Hawaiian Institute. The latter was an association of Native Hawaiians who met monthly to present and discuss their research on indigenous customs and history. Some of their studies were disseminated through the Native presses. The Hawaiian Almanac described the institute as having “encouraged ancestral pride, which carried with it, naturally, love of country.”13 As many of the prominent citizens promoting intellectual and cultural development in Hawai‘i had emigrated from the United States or were descendants of American settlers, they modeled their organizations after those established in the United States. Through travel and correspondence, these residents maintained cultural and political ties, and American current events were commonly published in Hawaiian newspapers and journals. Many notable Native Hawaiians, too, traveled and were educated in the United States. It is therefore productive to briefly examine the rise of American museums. Neil Harris identifies several crucial factors in the emergence of museums: the unprecedented acquisition of knowledge about the material world; growing personal wealth that facilitated collecting and the support of museums; the development of colonial empires that assisted the gathering of specimens from around the world, to be ordered and displayed in imperial centers; and an increasing sense of historical discontinuity resulting from industrialization, urbanization, diminishing contact with nature, secularism, and large-scale human migrations.14 Steven Conn describes the emergence of an “objectbased epistemology” that fueled the Museum Movement in the United States, particularly in the last quarter of the nineteenth century. His study of museums and intellectual life from 1876 to 1926 argues that Americans possessed a strong faith in objects as sources of knowledge; objects were studied and arranged to reveal scientific truth.15 In part, he links this object-based epistemology and the development of museums to the Victorian fascination with “stuff,” a culture of “bourgeois acquisitiveness,” stimulated by increased flows of income yielding status-generating consumption.16 “Things,” it was believed, provided hard evidence, seemingly unmediated, of historical facts that revealed themselves to those who carefully observed them. It is the ability to create meaning that forms the basis of the power of cultural objects. Objects possess a certain spatial and conceptual portability or flexibility, permitting them to be ordered in a range of ways that project historical time and evoke grander meanings such as Nation, Empire, or Progress. The display of collected objects creates what James Clifford, drawing on Jean Baudrillard, describes as a “structured environment that substitutes its own temporality for the ‘real time’ of historical and productive processes.”17 The museum posits this structured environment as adequate and objective by decontextualizing objects, making them stand for abstract wholes, and then adhering them



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to a classificatory system whose internal logic and order supersedes the historical and cultural specificities surrounding the production, function, and reception of objects. The truth presented by the organized display of objects gains its authority from an “assumed transparency of the text” that conceals the hands and minds at work in the creation of the display; the objects are viewed as though they have not experienced any interpretative manipulation. In a national museum, the collection and arrangement of artifacts not only contribute to fashioning national identities but also infuse those identities with an aura of unquestionable factuality.18 In the museum, objects are effectively removed from their original natural and social contexts and entered into a new economy in which their value is determined by their transformation into objects of knowledge and symbols of cultural and historical truth.19 Carefully arranged, objects present the world through a systemic ordering that appears natural but is linked to contemporary politics and worldviews.20 The late-nineteenth-century Hawaiian political and social environment provoked contested views of the nation, its history, and future, as well as united endeavors in industrial and intellectual advancement and modern, civilized pursuits. The Hawaiian National Museum represented a range of competing and common interests. Imaging the character of the kingdom to its citizenry and to broader, international audiences, the collection publicly displayed the success of the nation to different audiences on a range of levels and with a variety of purposes.

The Hawaiian National Museum The idea of a national museum originated during the reign of Kamehameha V, who, on 29 July 1872, signed into law “An Act to Establish a National Museum of Archaeology, Literature, Botany, Geology, and Natural History of the Hawaiian Islands.”21 The preamble to the act expresses the proposed institution’s charge to represent the sovereign, civilized, and progressive stature of the state, as well as preserve Native Hawaiian culture, which was understood as rapidly disappearing: Whereas, we as a nation, have taken our position among the civilized and enlightened nations of the earth, both in respect to capabilities in self-government and in the facilities as we enjoy in our high and common schools in the diffusion of popular intelligence; and whereas, a national museum representing the archaeology, literature, geology, and national history of our kingdom would be but another form of school for the education of our youth, as well as a repository for reference to the scientific world at large; and whereas, every succeeding year is rendering it more difficult to gather from the archives of the past the mementoes and relics of our early existence as a nation, as well as the prehistoric age of these islands. Therefore be it enacted that the board of education be authorized to establish a national museum in some suitable government building or apartment to be provided by

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the minister of the interior, in which should be collected and preserved such articles illustrating the subjects named.22

Though Kamehameha V signed the legislation, neither he nor his successor Lunalilo demonstrated any great personal interest in its development.23 Rather, the museum’s scope and purpose solidified during Kalākaua’s reign. Housed in the Ali‘iōlani Hale (also referred to as the Government Building and the Parliament House; today’s Judiciary Building) (Fig. 31), the National Museum was a symbol of a well-founded and liberal state. Ali‘iōlani Hale served as the administrative center and was one of the most impressively modern buildings in Honolulu. Rather than utilize a wood frame structure to house the national collection, as was the case for the substantial Bernice Pauahi Bishop and Queen Emma collections (both chiefly descendants of Kamehameha I), the National Museum conversed with its numerous nineteenth-century European and American counterparts, which evinced a decidedly neoclassical and Greek-Revival taste in museum design.24 Ali‘iōlani Hale’s Renaissance Revival style, like the classical references embedded in the Kamehameha Monument, alluded to the birth of Western culture and served as a coherent symbol of civic and national maturity. It signified that Hawai‘i could claim its place in a universal narrative of progress. The arched entrance flanked by two levels of pillared porches and surmounted by a pillared tower contributed an air of gravity and seriousness befitting the state-supported museum’s responsibility to guard and promote the values of the Hawaiian nation in particular and the standards of civilization in general. In this building, the museum stood in the company of the National Library, Cabinet offices, Legislative and Judicial offices, the Legislative Assembly Hall, Governor’s Office, Bureau of Public Instruction, Police Department, and the Hall of Records. Situating the national collection in the Government Building stressed the state’s role as agent between knowledge, culture, and the public.25 Its presence in a civic building emphasized its public function; from its inception, the Hawaiian National Museum was intended to be open to all, free of admission. The very existence of the museum, reinforced by its conscious placement, served as evidence of the civic-mindedness of the Hawaiian leadership—its dedication to public education and public ownership of Hawaiian heritage. Like other national museums in Europe and the United States, the unrestricted nature of the Hawaiian National Museum is key to understanding its political and social functions. In the late eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, European royal and aristocratic collections of art and natural history, which were entirely private or available to select viewers, were increasingly transferred to the state and to public national museums. Rather than serving solely as emblems of an individual collector’s or family’s prestige, these collections became sources of national pride. This transfer to the public domain, which coincided with democratization and the expansion of voting franchises, witnessed a change in the relationship between the nation’s arts and “the people”; it fostered a sense of public ownership of the nation’s cultural history and heritage while providing audiences



(Re)Collecting History

Figure 31. Ali‘iōlani Hale (Judiciary Building), Honolulu, Hawai‘i, ca. 1880. Courtesy Archives of Hawai‘i (23365).

with a tangible, visible representation of the country. Museums were public monuments to the people as well as to political virtue, their existence implying that the government provided the right things for its people.26 Hawaiian administrators, correspondingly, supported the development of a museum as a means of forming national identity, fostering a sense of Native title to the kingdom’s patrimony while promoting their role as providers to the citizenry. In keeping with its public function, the Hawaiian National Museum pursued the path of national museums throughout the world, which, by mid-century, increasingly worked to serve the visiting public in a moral and educational capacity, sharing knowledge for its edification and enlightenment.27 The dissemination of useful knowledge through the gathering and display of artifacts and natural specimens promised to promote historical consciousness and benefit industry and science. By imparting higher moral ideas, the educated and cultural elite hoped to improve public taste and foster a refined citizenry. While the collections provided opportunities to conduct research and produce knowledge, the museum apparatus made this knowledge available to everyone through a democratic, inclusive institution. As the president of the Hawaiian Board of Education, Charles Reed Bishop (husband of the Kamehameha chiefess Bernice Pauahi and later founder of the Bernice Pauahi

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Bishop Museum in Honolulu) oversaw the administration of the Hawaiian National Museum. In 1874, he appointed Harvey Rexford Hitchcock Jr. its first curator. Hitchcock (1835–1891) was the son of Reverend Harvey Rexford and Rebecca Howard Hitchcock, who arrived in Honolulu from Massachusetts with the fifth company of missionaries sent by the American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions (ABCFM) in 1832. He was raised on Moloka‘i, where his parents established the first mission station on that island.28 He appears to have been an active scholar, publishing several texts in the Hawaiian language and producing an English-Hawaiian dictionary. Hitchcock was, at the time of his curatorial appointment, inspector general of schools for the Kingdom of Hawai‘i; his life and training in the Islands, as well as his demonstrated commitment to education, made him an excellent candidate for the position. Hitchcock began assembling a collection that initially contained primarily Hawaiian archaeological artifacts and mineralogical specimens; he proposed to develop the museum’s holdings in the other departments of natural history. When the museum officially opened to the public in 1875,29 the displays consisted of a variety of objects acquired through purchase, donation, and loan: textiles, items of body adornment, tools and implements, musical instruments, objects related to games and amusements, religious figures, weapons, an assortment of geological, zoological, and botanical specimens, and objects and photographs from other areas of the Pacific Basin and Pacific Rim. ‘Iolani Palace donated items of historical importance, including artifacts of some antiquity: kā‘eke (drums), two hundred bark-cloth malo (loincloths), and polishing stones.30 War conches (one of which was ornamented with human hair and teeth), wooden spittoons ornamented with human teeth, thirteen bunches of red-dyed human hair, and a fine mat from the island of Ni‘ihau featuring a woven petition to Kalākaua were among other notable items donated by the palace, most of which were objects associated with Hawaiian chiefs. The collection at its inception was small but contained a representative sampling of Hawaiian material culture and numerous pieces of cultural significance. In his “Report of the Curator of the National Museum,” Hitchcock acknowledged that “the growth of a national Museum is slow at its beginning. Public confidence must be secured. Depositors . . . must feel assured that their contributions will be cared for. The national Museum is growing in the esteem and confidence of the public.”31 David Dwight Baldwin (1831–1912), also from a prominent missionary family that arrived with the second company of missionaries of the ABCFM, succeeded Hitchcock as curator from 1877 to 1882. His appointment was likely motivated by his reputation as a noted authority on Hawaiian land snails and malacology. He amassed an impressive collection of conchological specimens in 1873, which is now largely divided among the Bailey House Museum (Wailuku, Maui), Yale University, and the Bernice Pauahi Bishop Museum.32 Baldwin’s publications, beginning in 1877, were highly regarded in scientific communities in Hawai‘i and abroad, and his standing as an educator prompted some to describe him as “the father of English education in Hawai‘i.”33 Under the direction of Hitchcock and Baldwin, however, the museum’s development was fairly slow. That



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its administration was somewhat inactive, particularly during Baldwin’s curatorship, is indicated in part by the difference in the biennial appropriations for the maintenance and expansion of the collection from 1872 to 1882 and the amount actually spent. Appropriations for this ten-year period amounted to $3,800, whereas expenditures totaled only $1,309.72. Funds were used primarily for the building and repair of display cases and the purchase of specimens.34 It was during the middle of Kalākaua’s reign that the collection significantly developed. Walter Murray Gibson sharply criticized museum administrators for their ineffective management in a series of newspaper articles published in the spring of 1882.35 Shortly after Kalākaua appointed Gibson premier and minister of foreign affairs, Gibson took control of the museum, making it the responsibility of his ministry and signaling a shift in its function to one focused on international relations rather than domestic education. For the following several years, he secured substantially larger appropriations from the Legislature to advance the new goals of the museum and expand its collection.36 Gibson appointed Chiefess Emma Metcalf Beckley (1847–1929), later Nākuina,37 daughter of Theophilus Metcalf (sugar planter and government surveyor) and Chiefess Kā‘ilikapuolono of Kūkaniloko, as curator. Nākuina was an attendant in the courts of Alexander Liholiho, Lota Kapuāiwa, and Kalākaua. She was educated in Hawai‘i and at Mills Seminary in California, trained in Greek, Latin, and Hebrew, and was fluent in French, German, English, and Hawaiian. A noted authority on Hawaiian culture and law, she studied ancient mele (chants), recorded various legends, translated Hawaiian works into English, and produced several publications, such as Hawaiian Fisheries and Methods of Fishing, with an Account of the Fishing Implements Used by the Natives of the Hawaiian Islands (1883), “Ancient Hawaiian Water Rights and Some Customs Pertaining to Them” (1894), and Hawaii: Its People and Their Legends (1904).38 An activist, Nākuina argued before the Hawaiian Legislature for the teaching of ancient and modern Hawaiian history and customs to Native Hawaiians. She and members of Kalākaua’s administration pursued the interests of the museum with earnest and concerted effort. They enlarged the collection, obtaining important specimens of Hawaiian bark cloth and mats, household implements (bowls, gourds, implements to prepare and serve food and drink, spittoons, massage aids, fishing implements, tools, etc.), games and amusements, musical instruments, religious objects, and chiefly relics. The museum also acquired artifacts from numerous Oceanic cultures in addition to assembling a remarkable collection of natural history specimens from the Pacific Basin, North America, and Asia. By 1887, the national collection was considered “prized.”39 As few written descriptions and no images of the museum’s exhibits have surfaced, this analysis focuses on the content of the collection rather than its display. How does one begin to talk about this collection—one that emphasized natural history but also formed the sacred patrimony of Native Hawaiians? Was the collection comprised of scientific specimens, national treasures, or both? Clifford describes the instability of twentieth-century art and culture categories, linking this phenomenon to the increasing

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interconnectedness of the world’s populations today, prompting one to consider how culture collecting occurs “within a changing field of counterdiscourses, syncretisms, and reappropriations originating both inside and outside ‘the West.’”40 Similarly, cultural categories (e.g., “art” and “science”) were neither bounded nor stable in the nineteenth century in Hawai‘i or in other colonial cultures in which communities, ideas, and cultural forms were in constant motion. The prevalence of “colonial hegemony” and “primitivism” as analytical strategies in past scholarship, which focused on the Western appropriation of specimens and exotic things and the meanings generated by these objects for Western collectors and viewers,41 distorts an understanding of the historical and cultural conditions that permitted indigenous objects to enter into foreign modes of collection and display in the first place, as well as how indigenous observers understood these appropriations. The same critique can be extended to interpretations of indigenous adaptations of foreign collecting practices and collecting institutions. Emphasizing the entanglements among colonial cultures, one can avoid oversimplified binaries that historicize non-Western peoples and cultural production only as colonized subjects. For indigenous practitioners, the implementation of collecting institutions could be forms of acceptance, resistance, or something in between.42 There is a need to examine collected objects and the intentions of collectors in placing certain types of objects in both indigenous and foreign fields of vision and knowledge. To evaluate the collection value of the objects in the Hawaiian National Museum, then, one must examine what types of objects the Hawaiian elite collected and why they collected them. Decisions regarding what to collect are creative, political acts, and in the case of the National Museum, they contributed to the formation of national culture in complex ways, evoking the slippages and ambiguities in taxonomic and cultural border crossings.43

Natural Science and National Culture The middle to late nineteenth century witnessed frenzied collecting and exhibiting of “artifacts” and “specimens” by natural history and anthropology museums. Artifacts were considered survivals of the past—things “made and left behind by man . . . testimony of an earlier, more primitive epoch in the evolutionary development of mankind”; specimens had more biological connotations, functioning to illustrate “kinds.”44 The Hawaiian National Museum participated in this scientific phenomenon. Its collection was comprised largely of items typically accepted as representing natural history and anthropology, rather than objects that might be classed as works of “fine art” (i.e., paintings and sculptures) that are commonly featured in Western national museums. It accumulated examples of indigenous Hawaiian textiles, household implements, religious objects, ornaments, tools, weapons, canoes, chiefly relics, and items related to medical practices, games, sports, and performance, as well as material culture from Samoa, Tonga, Rapa Nui, Vanuatu, Fiji, the Solomon Islands, New Britain, New Ireland, the Caroline Islands, Kiribati, and the Marshall Islands (see Catalogue of the Hawaiian National Museum and



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Library, Part III, this volume). Possessing visual and material traditions different from those of Europe, the United States, and Asia, even the great treasures of the kingdom—articles associated with notable chiefs—consisted of what were categorized as ethnological artifacts in Western taxonomies. Its natural history collections included specimens of Hawaiian birds, fish, crustacea, and radiates; Hawaiian marine shells; corals; woods from Hawai‘i, New Zealand, California, and Japan; Hawaiian ferns; and Hawaiian geology and mineralogy (see Catalogue, Part V, this volume).45 Books obtained for the Hawaiian Government Library, which was housed and administered with the National Museum, focused on international publications of scientific findings and classifications (see Catalogue, Part VI, this volume). Many of the volumes related to voyaging accounts, natural history, and anthropology of the Pacific Basin.46 Those involved in the museum were well traveled, educated, and aware that Hawaiian nature and culture had been long collected by foreigners and consistently located in natural history museums and anthropological displays. Non-Native Hawaiian residents avidly gathered and classified Hawaiian materials, contributing to scientific pursuits in both professional and amateur capacities. Notable collections were created, for instance, by William E. H. Deverill and Alexander M. McBryde of Kaua‘i, David D. Baldwin of Maui, and James McGuire, Charles R. Bishop, and Joseph S. Emerson of O‘ahu.47 These collectors championed the values of science, education, and preservation, which supported national identities founded on Western narratives of civilization. The haole elite understood the power of museums to articulate the character of modern states, and through the National Museum they celebrated the progress initiated and advanced by the early missionaries and their descendants as well as other individuals of means and incentive. Native Hawaiian leaders also placed objects in Western fields of knowledge as a means of imaging their own national progress. The pursuit of natural history and ethnology cohered with Kalākaua’s view of Hawai‘i as a major intellectual contributor. His Hale Nauā Society, or “Temple of Science,” committed to “the revival of Ancient Sciences in Hawaii in combination with the advancement of Modern Sciences, Art, Literature, and Philanthropy,” corresponded with international associations, published papers, and preserved Hawaiian antiquities. Its membership was largely confined to Native Hawaiians, mostly of chiefly status, and its proceedings were conducted in the Native language. To a great extent, the society was dedicated to indigenizing scientific inquiries, seeking correlations between Western findings and Hawaiian knowledge. Intending to engage with the world’s scientific communities, the Hale Nauā organized national and international exhibitions, such as one held in honor of Queen Kapi‘olani (Honolulu, 1888), and at world fairs held in Melbourne (1888), Sydney (1888, Fig. 32), Paris (1889, Fig. 33), and Bremen (1889). Several important cultural objects appear to have enjoyed joint custodianship by the society and the museum, as they are included in the inventories of both.48 Institutions like the Hale Nauā and the National Museum endeavored to make distinctively Hawaiian contributions to the systematic study of the world.

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Figure 32. “Hawaiian Exhibits Sent by the King of the Hawaiian Islands,” Exhibition of Women’s Industries and Centenary Fair, Sydney, Australia, 1888. Courtesy Archives of Hawai‘i (PP-08).

Natural history collections additionally promoted colonial projects and visualized power relationships between colonizer and colonized.49 Through meticulous arrangement of objects and images, colonized subjects were variously represented as commodities, trophies, resources, and objects of scientific study and were connected to national identities and stories of expansion and global influence. Like Western colonial collections, the National Museum imaged Hawai‘i’s imperial ambitions. Kalākaua’s design to consolidate Pacific polities under his rule began early in his reign, and in 1881 he proposed to the Japanese emperor a “Union and Federation of Asiatic Nations and Sovereigns,” intended to challenge Western domination in the Pacific and promote the international prestige of Pacific nations.50 Encouraged by Gibson, who also entertained visions of forming an empire in Oceania, Kalākaua envisaged himself as “The Colossus of the Pacific,” heading a confederation of Pacific states. Kalākaua’s confidence was undoubtedly stimulated by requests he received from elders and chiefs of Kiribati (the Gilbert Islands, part of the former British Gilbert and Ellice Islands Colony) for Hawaiian protection or annexation. Indications of colonial activity in the region on the part of England, the United States, France, and Germany also provoked his administration to act. In 1883, Gibson issued a formal protest against all efforts to infringe on the sovereign rights of Oceanic communities, and in documents issued in the following years he recommended Hawaiian leadership of a Polynesian federation. In 1883, the same year the protest was circulated, the Foreign Office initiated a collecting expedition to obtain material culture and natural history specimens primarily



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Figure 33. Hawaiian Exhibit, Exposition Universelle, Paris, 1889. The papa hōlua in the middle foreground, leaning on the cabinet, may be the sled of Lonoikamakahiki (BPBM 320). It closely resembles the papa hōlua displayed in the Lonoikamakahiki exhibit at the Bernice Pauahi Bishop Museum in 2005. Courtesy Archives of Hawai‘i (1995-242).

from the Samoan, Caroline, and Marshall Islands and Kiribati (regions the kingdom wished to bring under its mantle before they were claimed by Western colonial powers), as well as Vanuatu, Fiji, New Britain, New Ireland, and the Solomon Islands. One companion goal of the mission, headed by Captain Alfred N. Tripp, was to facilitate friendly relations between Hawai‘i and these Pacific communities. The Ministry of Foreign Affairs charged F. L. Clarke, as agent for the Hawaiian National Museum, to gather an impressive array of items. In a report to Gibson, Clarke reported his numerous acquisitions of “Natural History specimens, as well as articles of ‘Native workmanship,’” gathered between 20 August 1883 and 8 March 1884.51 Clarke’s inventory included a wide range of items: food samples, textiles, garments, ornaments, tools and implements, bowls and baskets, weapons, musical instruments, religious objects, human remains, land and seashells, corals, crustacea, fish, insects, mammals, woods, plants, and seeds. It appears that a large and

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valuable part of the collection was lost when the Julia, the labor schooner transporting the expedition, was wrecked. While documents precisely detailing the nature and outcome of Clarke’s mission have not been found, the resulting collection indicates the expedition was modeled on similar scientific projects issued in Europe and the United States. The museum sought to gather knowledge about those cultures and resources Hawai‘i wished to bring into its domain. Collecting efforts mirrored the kingdom’s imperial ambitions, demonstrating that it, like its Western counterparts, had the ability and power to collect and order the world. In so doing, the National Museum distinguished the Hawaiian Kingdom as collector rather than a collected “other.”

The Object Lessons of History While the National Museum pursued the collection and anthropological classification of “other” visual and material cultures, it resisted Hawai‘i’s own historical erasure by such classificatory systems that—when employed by Western institutions—relegated Hawaiian material culture to the status of natural resources, representatives of anthropological “types,” or ethnographic curiosities. Its production was motivated by another cultural logic, one that posed a monumental history legitimating the Hawaiian nation and its leaders. For Native Hawaiians, the museum’s collection constituted an organized effort to assemble a national “self ” through a narrative that not only detailed a deep national history but also offered a guiding vision for future aspirations: namely, maintaining sovereignty and expanding the kingdom. It provided a cultural domain whose legitimacy and modernity were grounded in deeply historical terms. Like other museums, it provided and populated a space in which the past could be imaged and where culture could be collected and recollected, ordering time; museums indeed constituted, as Hubert Damisch puts it, “places of memory.”52 Fledgling nineteenth-century settler colonial states developed museum collections that largely marginalized the indigenous histories of their newly founded territories, preferring instead to stress cultural ties to European homelands. For such institutions, history began in the colonial era. This path was one pursued by people such as Bishop, Hitchcock, and Baldwin. Hawai‘i’s Native leadership, however, insisted on a precolonial history. The historical narrative presented by the National Museum largely ignored missionary and other foreign contributions, instead cultivating a past comparable to those of larger, long-established nations—one that centered on grand ceremonials and the feats of great rulers and warriors. Inclusion of Western material culture was minimal, and those pieces that were incorporated represented individuals who had assimilated into Hawaiian life or who demonstrated a perceived respect for Hawaiian rule. The Depth of History: Celebrating Antiquity Commencing the Hawaiian historical narrative, museum organizers stressed the antiquity of the Hawaiian past. Inventories (ca. 1874–1887) repeatedly described numerous



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Figure 34. Ipu pāwehe (decorated gourd bowl). This object is similar to those in the Hawaiian National Museum collection. Courtesy Bernice Pauahi Bishop Museum (SP19006).

objects as “ancient” or used by “ancient Hawaiians.”53 Examples include the following: hinai poepoe, or gourds used as containers for the “valuable property of the natives of olden times”; an “ancient stone mortar”; a “model of [an] ancient pillow . . . of ancient Hawaiians”; “large and small stone adzes of ancient Hawaiians”; an “ancient stone hatchet”; “two ancient Puna balls to clean the fish hooks and the Human teeth round the Spittoon”; ‘ulu maika, or “rolling and throwing stones. . . . Used in the ancient game of the Maika”; pahu kā‘eke, or “small hula drums. . . . Used in the Hula Pahu, Alaapapa, and Hula Kalaau and Kieki . . . [that] were among the most ancient dances”; “large kaeke, ancient Hawaiian”; an “ancient stone war missile”; and “photographs of ancient Hawaiian idols.” Such objects demonstrated the longevity and continuity of Hawaiian culture; preserved objects magnified the power and presence of the past.54 The museum further advocated the repute of Hawai‘i’s history and cultural achievements by aligning these with the cultural traditions of Asia. Nākuina, Kalākaua, and others published accounts of Hawaiian descent from the Lost Tribes of Israel and their migration through India, Indonesia, and Oceania. In the introduction to Kalākaua’s Legends and Myths of Hawaii, Daggett traced the “Polynesian tribes to an Aryan beginning, somewhere in Asia Minor or Arabia. . . . Subsequently drifting in India, they to some extent amalgamated with the Dravidian races, and . . . found a home in the Asiatic archipelago from Sumatra to Luzon and Timor.”55 Nākuina also wrote, “The Hawaiian race is foremost among those of the Pacific and . . . the records of these people extend back well over a thousand years.”56 The records to which she referred may well have included those of a material and visual nature. Alluding to the cultural connection between Hawai‘i and South Asia in her catalogue of the National Museum, she compared the intricate designs on water gourds (huewai pāwehe) and food containers as similar, and in some cases identical, to East Indian pottery motifs (e.g., Fig. 34).57

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The museum exhibited objects that made more specific reference to important events and national heroes. It acquired a papa hōlua (a type of sled used in the dangerous ali‘i sport of coasting down hillsides at high speeds), which was said to have belonged to Lonoikamakahiki (Catalogue No. 186). Lonoikamahahiki, the younger son of Keawenuia‘umi by his wife Haokalani and a grandson of ‘Umi, was a ruling chief on the island of Hawai‘i who was famous for his abilities in war, athletics, and political leadership; these talents enabled him to gain and maintain his chiefdom, encompassing the districts of Ka‘u and Puna.58 This chief was also renowned for his compassion and sense of justice in having “invoked the Kai‘okia law as a means of sparing the lives of the vanquished after a conquest.”59 This law (kānāwai), considered one of the most important edicts issued in Hawaiian history, was given to the people by the god Kānenuiakea after a great destructive flood had subsided; it was the god’s promise to never again destroy life and to keep the sea and land separate. There are many other stories related to the life of Lonoikamakahiki and, as Fornander states, his adventures “are certainly in keeping with the spirit of the time, and there can be no doubt that in his day and by his contemporaries Lonoikamakahiki was looked upon as a Hawaiian Richard Coeur de Lion, whose name and whose deeds the bards passed down to aftertimes, and whose more romantic adventures, embellished by fervent imaginations, were rehearsed by professional storytellers, and continued to delight chiefs and commoners down to our own days.”60 Even Kalākaua recorded the romantic and chivalrous life of this famous chief in his anthology of Legends and Myths.61 Lonoikamakahiki became one of the Makahiki gods who circuited the land during Kamehameha’s time.62 The Makahiki (“year, age”) was an annual festival commemorating life and creation, offering thanks for the aid of the chiefs and gods, and renewing the gods’ blessings. After the religious observances were completed, a period devoted to competitive sports followed, overseen by the god of play (the akua pa‘ani). Lonoikamakahiki is credited with having introduced the playing of competitive sports during the festival. Sledding was a featured sport of the Makahiki. Nākuina’s catalogue entry for the sled connected the “perfect physical condition” required of participating athletes to the need for conditioned soldiers. The National Museum’s display of Lonoikamakahiki’s papa hōlua is significant in several regards: In addition to holding historical significance, it symbolized the physical vitality of Hawai‘i’s chiefs, divine support of the people, a history of abundance and thriving life, and fair rulership. An apt national symbol, the sled appears to have been included in the Hawaiian exhibition at the 1899 Exposition Universelle held in Paris (see Fig. 33). Another museum acquisition was the “Log of Manokalanipo,” described in Nākuina’s catalogue as the ancestral god of Kaua‘i rulers and the visible manifestation of a deified king who was the progenitor of Kaua‘i’s sacred kings (Fig. 35; Catalogue No. 250). Manokalanipo was the son-in-law of Makali‘i, chief navigator of Hawai‘iloa, the chief credited with discovering and settling the Hawaiian archipelago. He was also a descendant of La‘amaikahiki, an early voyager to Hawai‘i, and ancestor of Queen Kapi‘olani.63 Fornander writes, “Manokalanipo has the characteristic honour among the Hawaiians of



(Re)Collecting History

Figure 35. Log of Manokalanipo (BPBM 4068). Courtesy Bernice Pauahi Bishop Museum (SG21912).

having had his name affixed as a sobriquet to the island over which he ruled, and in epical and diplomatic language it was ever after known as ‘Kauai-a-Manokalanipo.’”64 This energetic and dedicated chief excelled in caring for his people, constructing effective waterworks yielding bountiful fields, and encouraging industry. The sculpture housed in the museum was collected in 1878 at the ruins of an old irrigation dam in southeastern Kaua‘i. It appears that local residents maintained the association of Manokalanipo and agricultural success, as they indicated it had been erected to protect the dam and the cultivated lands nearby. George W. R. King, who discovered the sculpture, noted the attention it generated, prompting Native Hawaiians to travel from all parts of Kaua‘i to view it, and described how the figure drew Kalākaua’s interest, provoking the king to claim ownership of it.65 Eventually, it was conveyed to the National Museum where it represented the power—the mana—of honorable rulership and stimulated faith in the current royal family, whose queen descended from the great Kaua‘i lineage. Guarded in the museum, perhaps the Manokalanipo figure promised to protect the nation and fed hope for the return of fertile lands and people through the endeavors of its king and queen. A famous legendary fishhook (makau) named Manaiakalani (“Hook from the Heavens”) was also treasured by the museum as a sacred relic (Fig. 36; Catalogue No. 306). In Hawaiian mythology, this hook is associated with the god worshiped by fishermen, Kū‘ulakai (“Kū of Abundance in the Sea”), a descendant of Wākea and a deity responsible for the

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Figure 36. Manaiakalani (“Hook from the Heavens”), a legendary fishhook (makau, BPBM 6925). Courtesy Bernice Pauahi Bishop Museum (G32337b).

reproduction of sea creatures. Although a god, he also lived as a man in east Maui and was recognized as having built the first fishpond during a time of famine. With Manaiakalani, Kū‘ulakai defeated an enemy, who had assumed the form of an eel that was destroying his fishpond and stealing fish. The hook was one of four powerful objects Kū‘ulakai left with his son to perpetuate the abundance of fish in the sea.66 Moreover, there are several myths connecting Manaiakalani with the god Māui, also descendant from Wākea. One narrates how Māui snared the sun with this hook and another chronicles his attempt to unite the islands of the Hawaiian archipelago using Manaiakalani.67 The hook figured in the historic era as well, as it was used by Kīwala‘ō, half-brother of Kamehameha and designated heir to Kalani‘ōpu‘u, a paramount chief of Hawai‘i, in the ceremonies related to the human sacrifice of a defeated rebel chief.68 The fishhook was valued not only for its mytho-historical references to temporally distant culture heroes but also to more recently significant characters, thereby bearing a sense of historical continuity in addition to supporting the Kalākaua themes of unity and prosperity. A large drum (kā‘eke69 or pahu) named Naniuaola, cherished as a state symbol, provides a further example of a museum holding that materialized Hawai‘i’s distinguished



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Figure 37. Large pahu heiau (temple drum) named Naniuaola (at center), which at one time belonged to Kamehameha I. Coconut wood, sharkskin, sennit, and human teeth (BPBM 6926). Three other drums from the Hawaiian National Museum collection are also displayed: BPBM 4849 (upper left), BPBM 860, and 861 (the two small drums flanking Naniuaola). Courtesy Bernice Pauahi Bishop Museum (CA3329).

history and figured in nineteenth-century Native politics (Figs. 37 and 38; Catalogue No. 349). Drums generally held a deep cultural significance for Native Hawaiians due to their divine origins and their role in religious rituals. Naniuaola is a pahu heiau, or temple drum, and is one of only three extant examples of drums used in temple rituals honoring the gods.70 Pahu heiau are traditionally associated with religious practices and chiefly power. They signaled major events in temple rites (e.g., the beginning and end of a kapu period and rituals of human sacrifice) and in the lives of the chiefs (e.g., birth, cutting the umbilical cord, circumcision, marriage, death, the return of a longabsent chiefly relative). Naniuaola’s possession of a personal name suggests it enjoyed an elevated status; this name likely signaled its sacred purpose and association with chiefly genealogies. When played, the drum called the gods to enter the temple complex and to speak through the drum; sounds emanating from the instrument issued divine mana into the human realm.71 The size and design of Naniuaola are significant. It is forty-five inches high and approximately twenty-five inches in diameter. Drum size appears to correspond to social status; the highest chiefs owned and played the largest drums. Naniuaola’s base is carved in a series of latticework crescent shapes (hoaka) manifesting a god’s “shadow” (also hoaka), and therefore spirit and mana, in the instrument.72 Kaeppler interprets crescent designs layered in rows as stylized human forms with outstretched arms, a motif present in other three-dimensional Hawaiian art forms. Such an anthropomorphic reference

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Figure 38. Detail of the base of Naniuaola. Photograph by T. Umeda, 1968. Courtesy Bernice Pauahi Bishop Museum (SP204043).

might allude to the gods, who in primordial times were responsible for separating and supporting the sky (personified as Wākea) from the earth (personified as Papa) or might constitute a genealogical metaphor making visible a series of descent relationships stemming from Wākea.73 The many teeth embedded in the carved hoaka motifs (Fig. 38), possibly from human sacrifices to the gods, amplified the mana manifest in the drum.74 While Kaeppler suggests the drums were primarily associated with the god Lono, connected with peaceful, creative pursuits such as agriculture and fishing, Tatar believes the pahu heiau were closely related to all four of the major Hawaiian deities: Kū, Kāne, Kanaloa, and Lono.75 These cosmic associations made Naniuaola an important resource and possession of the state, one that legitimized the government. “Possession of such a drum may have been an important aspect of rank and power in traditional Hawaiian society. Naniuaola . . . appears to have been inherited according to lines in power rather than according to blood lines.”76 The drum was originally housed on O‘ahu at Papa‘ena‘ena, a luakini heiau (a temple usually dedicated to a god requiring human sacrifices and used only by the highest of chiefs), and Kamehameha I was reported to have owned and used it here. When Papa‘ena‘ena was destroyed in 1856, members of Alexander Liholiho’s court relocated Naniuaola to the first ‘Iolani Palace, which may have assumed some of the functions of heiau, as I argued is the case for the extant palace.77 This pahu heiau remained in the royal household from the reign of Alexander Liholiho through those



(Re)Collecting History

of Lota Kapuāiwa and Lunalilo. Kalākaua placed it in the Hawaiian National Museum sometime in the late 1870s or early 1880s.78 As there were no longer public temple rituals in which to sound the drum to proclaim the authority of Kalākaua’s kingship, which required legitimacy in the eyes of his political opponents and skeptics, it seems plausible that Kalākaua utilized an alternative but effective public space to display the traditional basis of his rule to Native Hawaiians. The National Museum functioned as a new sacred site, replacing the temples as the repository of the gods and symbols of the state.79 Such objects were not entombed here but instead were provided a new functional space in which they remained active and influential. Kalākaua’s appropriation and display of the sacred drum in his museum constituted a public retort to the political tensions related to the management of the Kamehameha material culture collections. In 1885 Charles Reed Bishop, husband of Bernice Pauahi, announced his plan to found a museum of Hawaiian antiquities based on Pauahi’s and Queen Emma’s valuable collections of Hawaiian artifacts bequeathed to him for expressly this purpose. While Bishop’s project was conceived as a national museum, the Hawaiian name of the museum was Hale Hō‘ike‘ike o Kamehameha, “the Kamehameha Museum.”80 Although Bishop’s intentions were to preserve Hawaiian culture and promote scientific study and education in the area of Oceanic natural history and culture, the Bishop Museum and its Kamehameha collections were politicized by the Native Hawaiian elite. Significantly, very few of the artifacts owned by the Kamehamehas were loaned or given to the Hawaiian National Museum. Items related to the Kamehameha family that came into the museum’s possession were likely held in the royal household and inherited by Kalākaua when he assumed the throne or were purchased by the king’s agents at estate auctions. Perhaps the Kamehamehas were unwilling to place their chiefly heirlooms and the material manifestations of their lineage’s mana in an institution controlled by Kalākaua. The king’s possession of Naniuaola, as a symbol of rightful rulership, must have proved irksome to Kamehameha supporters. When the Hawaiian National Museum’s collections were transferred to the Bishop Museum in 1891 after Kalākaua’s death, the drum was noticeably absent. The 1892–1893 preliminary catalogue for the Bishop Museum stated, “A large drum . . . of great antiquity and historical interest, was in the government collection, but it has not yet come to this Museum where it lawfully belongs.”81 Uncertain as to the fate of the National Museum after the Reform Government came to power in 1887, which halted funding to the institution, Kalākaua removed the drum to his Hale Nauā collection.82 It seems he and his sibling successor, Lili‘uokalani, were unwilling to relinquish custody of the drum to the “Kamehameha Museum” or any institution not under their control. Naniuaola’s centrality to Hawaiian conceptions of legitimate rulership is evident in other aspects of the political battle between the Kalākauas and the Kamehamehas. Numerous name chants (mele inoa) and birth chants (mele hānau), which proved one’s sacred genealogy, contain references to drums, drumming, or the sounds of drums. Name chants for Kamehameha rulers, including Liholiho, Kauikeaouli, Nahienaena (1815–1836,

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daughter of Kamehameha I), and Bernice Pauahi feature such allusions. Several of Queen Emma’s birth and genealogy chants (mele koihonua), which were either revived or composed during the 1870s as part of her energetic campaign against Kalākaua, feature drums and drumming as an indication of her exalted birth and the drum as one of a series of sacred signs attesting to her rank.83 One example, titled “Hānau ke Li‘i Kaleleonālani,” ends with these lines: The drum is sounded in the drum house, What is the reason for the sounding of the drums? Emalani is born, O answer to your birth chant.84

In turn, Kalākaua’s genealogy chant, “Mele Koihonua no Kalākaua,” urges the king to respond to the call of his ancestral drum: The drum being beaten The sounding drum of Lono Of Lonoikamakahiki Drumming in the middle of the ocean In the middle of the ocean The high chief ’s drum Hāwea sounds Answer, o heavenly one O Kalākaua, to your name chant.85

Naniuaola’s collection value was also to be found in its antiquity and its association with the founding of key Hawaiian political and religious institutions. Nākuina described the drum as one brought to the Hawaiian Islands from the southern homeland Kahiki by La‘amaikahiki sometime between 1200 and 1300 CE.86 In addition to introducing hula, forms of image worship, sacred knotting, and other principal cultural practices, La‘amaikahiki is associated with the origins of drums, drumming, and more specifically, pahu heiau in Hawai‘i.87 Holding the drum of La‘amaikahiki was a particular boon to the Kalākaua Dynasty. La‘a was related to the sacred Nanaulu lineage, stemming from Wākea and Papa.88 Hawaiian historical legends say that Kaua‘i was “begotten” (settled) by La‘a and his wife Laamealaakona, and their three sons founded the aristocracies of O‘ahu and Kaua‘i.89 The Kaua‘i rulers were the purest kapu chiefs in the Hawaiian archipelago, with whom the chiefs of other islands eagerly sought alliance. Queen Kapi‘olani’s descent from La‘a through the Kaua‘i line of his son Ahukiniala‘a90 further legitimized the royal family’s possession of the drum (as it did with the Log of Manokalanipo, also connected to the famed Kaua‘i rulers). The enormous, named, sacred drum Naniuaola, then, symbolized the heartbeat of the politico-religious system, divinity, and exalted rank. It tangibly linked the ruling family to venerable rulers and gods of the past.



(Re)Collecting History

Like the display of royal regalia during Kalākaua’s coronation, other relics of national heroes signified complex genealogical relationships and references that constituted a body of historical evidence supporting Kalākaua’s kingship. Several items in the National Museum corresponded to the Kumulipo, the literary affirmation of Kalākaua’s genealogy.91 The feather sash (kā‘ai) or cordon of Līloa (see Figs. 29 and 30 and Plate 9; Catalogue No. 348), featured in the Kamehameha Monument, was particularly relevant to Kalākaua’s claim because it was one of the primary pieces of evidence supporting ‘Umi’s chiefly parentage and Kalākaua’s kapu status (see chapter 3).92 Another artifact linked to Kalākaua’s pedigree is an ivory pendant necklace (niho palaoa) called Nanikōkī (Catalogue No. 350),93 an ornament that may have been included among the coronation regalia. ‘Umi inherited this gift from his father Līloa, as one of the items left with his mother as proof of paternity. The chiefs of Hilo seized it from ‘Umi, but he reclaimed it in an important battle that resulted in the uniting of the Hilo and Hamakua Districts, widening his kingdom. Nanikōkī also figured in a later battle between Ke‘eaumoku, a supporter of Kamehameha, and Kīwala‘ō. Ke‘eaumoku, wearing Nanikōkī, was wounded by two of Kīwala‘ō’s warriors. While distracted by his covetous gaze on the famous necklace, Kīwala‘ō was wounded by one of Ke‘eaumoku’s warriors and subsequently killed by Ke‘eaumoku.94 This was one of the many battles fought for Kamehameha to gain control over the island of Hawai‘i before turning his sights to conquering the rest of the archipelago. Thus, Nanikōkī referenced two culture heroes gifted in “kingdom making.” A human bone fishhook called Naiwipae (Catalogue No. 339), housed in the museum, was believed to have been made and used by ‘Umi. Pae was a priest, high chief, and a principal war leader of Hilo, Hawai‘i. ‘Umi’s diviners said Pae’s bones would fashion effective fishhooks because of his descent from two guardian gods of fishermen (Kūhaimoana and Kūkahau‘ula). Although ‘Umi was eager to obtain Pae’s bones as soon as he died, Pae’s retainers carefully hid them so as to prevent any action defiling or dishonoring them (such as fashioning them into fishhooks, arrows to kill rats, and other lowly implements). Yet ‘Umi persevered in his search, primarily through means of sorcery, and eventually a seer from Kaua‘i located the bones. From Pae’s remains, ‘Umi fashioned fishhooks that procured sizable catches of choice fish.95 Like Nanikōkī and Naiwipae, the much-prized Kihapu, a large war conch trumpet ornamented with teeth and bones (Fig. 39; Catalogue No. 347), reminded museum visitors of the great feats of Kalākaua’s ancestors, this time delving deeper into time, drawing reference to Kiha, father of Līloa and grandfather of ‘Umi. The Kihapu was guarded as an heirloom by the Kamehameha line of Kiha’s descendants.96 Kalākaua exhibited a decided interest in this shell, perhaps understanding it as his rightful inheritance, and published a lengthy narrative about Kiha and the legendary history of the Kihapu within his tale of “Umi, the Peasant Prince of Hawaii,” which elaborated on the noble heritage not only of ‘Umi but of himself and other gifted rulers descendant of Pili.97 The Kihapu was of great antiquity, made of a species of conch rare in Hawai‘i. Kalākaua suggested it

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Figure 39. The Kihapu, a large conch trumpet (BPBM 6458). Photograph by David Franzen. Courtesy Bernice Pauahi Bishop Museum (Q201158).

originated in the Samoan or Society Islands three to four hundred years prior to Kiha’s reign, thereby dating the object to the eleventh or twelfth century. Kalākaua characterized Kiha as an exemplary sovereign who possessed exceptional physical strength and intellect, commanded great supernatural power, earned the fear and respect of his subjects, and enjoyed a long and peaceful reign. When sounded, the Kihapu was heard for miles, summoning the gods to the king’s aid. Due to his reverence for the gods, Kiha was able to manifest, in the voice of the war trumpet, the god Lono (as god of sound), who originally gave the shell its supernatural power;98 the conch accrued more power throughout Kiha’s reign. Safeguarded in his court as a symbol of peace, security, and divine authority, the conch was likewise preserved as a national treasure in the museum, a tribute to Kiha’s legacy of leadership found in Kalākaua. Regardless of how the ‘Umi-related artifacts supported Kalākaua’s genealogical claims, ‘Umi was in and of himself an important culture hero for Hawaiians. Material evidence of his life authenticated the legend of ‘Umi, among the most popular prose sagas of Hawai‘i. As noted in chapter 2, which describes the linkages between Kalākaua’s ‘Iolani Palace and ‘Umi’s Kūki‘i Heiau, he was represented as a model activist leader, extraordinary athlete and warrior, celebrated farmer and fisherman, and devoted to his gods. Of ‘Umi’s reign, Kamakau wrote, “When Hawaii was united under ‘Umi-a-liloa, his fame spread from Hawaii to Kauai. There was no kingdom like his. He took care of the old men, the old women, the fatherless, and the common people. Murder and thievery were prohibited. He was a religious chief, just in his rule.”99 The National Museum honored this chief by preserving and displaying several of his relics, which served as monuments to Hawai‘i’s history of outstanding indigenous leadership, encouraging pride among Native Hawaiians and inspiring hope for the future of the kingdom.



(Re)Collecting History

These examples—the papa hōlua of Lonoikamakahiki, the Manokalanipo image, Manaiakalani, Naniuaola, and the objects associated with ‘Umi—demonstrate how the National Museum emphasized the historical significance of indigenous “implements,” “instruments,” and “religious objects,” refusing to class them as mere illustrations of “types.” The way these objects and others in the collection were described and protected—and continue to be treasured today—indicates a refusal of being relegated to an ahistorical ethnology and underscores their substance as texts that confirm Hawai‘i’s long and impressive national history. The power and mana they accumulated through the centuries and the fact of their permanence were brought to bear in the social and political climate of the late nineteenth century, as the kingdom’s future grew more uncertain and as the king sought to reawaken the Native population. The Modern Era The Hawaiian National Museum was not simply about collecting, displaying, and ordering ancient history and science. It was also about the contemporary politics of ownership, a means of affirming political authority. As the future of the nation was tied to the success of its ruler, Kalākaua publicly provided material substantiation of his kingship through the museum collection. Objects that figured in Hawai‘i’s more recent history or that directly related to Kalākaua’s kingship enjoyed prominence in the collection. In addition to Naniuaola, for instance, the museum gained possession of other objects related to the life and reign of Kamehameha I. As discussed in the previous chapter, Kamehameha was popularly regarded as an ideal ruler in the latter half of the nineteenth century, and Kalākaua sought to bind his reign to that of his famous predecessor, publicizing himself as an equally able ruler. Artifacts associated with Kamehameha were considered sacred relics, permeated with the mana of this founder of the united island kingdom. Wood and gourd containers and serving dishes (‘umeke koa and ipu holowa‘a), a turtle shell medicine bowl (‘umekeea), an ivory pounder (palaoa ku‘i), and a small stone poi pounder (pōhaku ku‘i poi) were among the items gathered by the museum (see Catalogue Nos. 295–296, 349, 352–370). Other of Kamehameha’s possessions held cultural and political significances. In the 1870s the museum acquired two spittoons (ipu ‘aina or ipu kuha niho kanaka; Fig. 40, Catalogue No. 374; see also Catalogue No. 366) and his sugarcane husk bowl (ipu ‘aina kō, Catalogue No. 375), all ornamented with the teeth of his enemies. Because these containers were meant to hold waste and refuse, it was an extreme dishonor to the memory of the person or people whose teeth enhanced the implement’s articulation of power. Objects such as these often functioned as trophies of war and underscored the owner’s military successes and skill. Within the context of heightening patriotic sentiment in the late nineteenth century, these Kamehameha objects can be understood as representing the birth of the unified Hawaiian nation—symbols of the ruler who, through his martial victories, ended internal warfare, created a peaceful era in Hawaiian history, and established a single monarchy that made modern nationhood possible.

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Figure 40. Ipu ‘aina (refuse bowl) belonging to Kamehameha I. Douglas fir and human teeth (BPBM 6927). Photograph by the University of Hawai‘i. Courtesy Bernice Pauahi Bishop Museum (XS9118).

The crested helmet (mahiole) of Kaumuali‘i (d. 26 May 1822), the paramount chief of Kaua‘i who was honored with the reputation of outstanding leadership, formed another part of the Kamehameha narrative of kingdom making (Fig. 41; Catalogue No. 351).100 Some sources indicate that the helmet was given, along with several other valuable gifts, to Kaumuali‘i in 1810 by Kamehameha as part of an agreement securing the former’s allegiance to the latter. Kamakau describes Kamehameha’s decision to pursue peaceful means of acquiring Kaua‘i because its chiefs were known for their extraordinary power and sanctity.101 Kamakahelei, Kaumuali‘i’s mother, for instance, was able to defeat all those who had earlier tried to capture her chiefdom. By 1795, Kamehameha had successfully united all the major islands of the Hawaiian archipelago except Kaua‘i and Ni‘ihau. Like previous others who tried to conquer these islands by force, Kamehameha failed. The two great chiefs met in 1810 to secure a peace treaty; Kaumuali‘i was to remain as paramount chief until his death, after which he was to name Kamehameha’s son, Liholiho, as his successor. During the negotiations, Kamehameha gifted the Kaua‘i ruler with large war canoes, feather cloaks, and other valuable articles, which reportedly included the crested feather helmet.102 Nākuina’s catalogue, however, suggests the headdress may have been passed for generations down the Kaua‘i ruling chiefly line and inherited by Kaumuali‘i when he assumed the paramountcy.103 However he came to possess the helmet, Kaumuali‘i placed it in the care of the Reverend Samuel Whitney; the Hawaiian National Museum acquired it from the Mercy P. Whitney estate auction in 1873. In the museum, the layers of historical and personal references woven into the garment conveyed important messages to Kalākaua’s allies and challengers alike. It unequivocally stood for a record of great chiefs—Kamehameha, Kaumuali‘i, and now Kalākaua—linking these three as it passed through their possession. And, as Kapi‘olani was a granddaughter of Kaumuali‘i, the object projected the mana of



(Re)Collecting History

Figure 41. The mahiole (crested feather helmet) of Kaumuali‘i, the paramount chief of Kaua‘i (BPBM 959). Photograph by Seth Joel. Courtesy Bernice Pauahi Bishop Museum (SXC76890).

Kaua‘i chiefs into the future. The king and queen’s progeny (though they had none) would inherit their mother’s indisputably sacred rank and status and would rule without question. Moreover, because it ostensibly figured in the interactions leading to the settlement between Kamehameha and Kaumuali‘i securing archipelagic unity, the feather helmet symbolized the national unity Kalākaua sought to sustain, particularly in the face of a vocal minority opposition. Perhaps most important, it validated Kalākaua’s position as a non-Kamehameha ruler, countering scornful characterizations of him as an upstart. Kaumuali‘i was the one chief Kamehameha could not truly conquer, and like Kaumuali‘i, Kalākaua withstood the Kamehamehas and could stand in good company with respected and able rulers who remained unaligned with the Conqueror’s heirs. The museum also possessed two notable items of historic interest related to foreigners with whom Kamehameha had contact. Few cultural items of non-Oceanic origin were included in the collection, downplaying the role of haole missionaries and other settlers in Hawai‘i’s history. Those retained by the museum referenced individuals who faithfully served the nation or who demonstrated respect for Native rule and custom. One was the cane (ko‘oko‘o; Cataogue No. 367) used by the Englishman John Young (ca. 1749–1835), Kamehameha’s trusted foreign adviser (aikāne punahele). Young arrived at Honua‘ula, Maui, on the Eleanora from Liverpool, England, in February 1790. Before Kamehameha appointed him governor of the island of Hawai‘i, Young was a key military leader and important aide to the chief in his efforts to unite the island group. Without the help of outside influences and resources, it has been argued that Kamehameha would not have succeeded. He wisely managed his foreign advisers. Young’s presence in Hawai‘i is also noteworthy because he married Chiefess Kaonaeha (Melie Kuano‘o), Kamehameha’s niece, and was grandfather to Queen Emma. He was honored as a chief, as indicated by his venerable burial with ali‘i nui (see chapter 2).

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The collection also included a looking glass (aniani nānā, Catalogue No. 363) given by the British naval captain George Vancouver to Kamehameha most likely in February 1793 when Vancouver visited Kawaihae, Hawai‘i.104 Vancouver appears to have been somewhat heroized by later Hawaiian historians such as Samuel Kamakau, who admired Vancouver’s prudence in his interactions with Hawaiian chiefs and his refusal to escalate internecine fighting by providing arms to a particular chiefdom. He wrote, “Vancouver was a Christian and a true Englishman. He may well be called the father of the Hawaiian people. He was the first to point out ‘the true God in heaven.’ He is well-known as the friend of the chiefs from Hawaii to Kauai. He did not furnish some chiefs with weapons and deny them to others, but to all the chiefs from Hawaii to Kauai his advice was, ‘Stop making war; live in peace; be friends with each other.’”105 This historian also remarked on Vancouver’s impression of Kamehameha’s devotion to the Hawaiian gods, noting the chief ’s attribution of his success in gaining governments and becoming a supreme ruler to his gods; it was due to this religious piety that Vancouver did not advise Great Britain to send missionaries at that time.106 Perhaps Kalākaua and his supporters, in light of their efforts to revive indigenous religious practices and their increasing disenchantment with the missionary presence in Hawai‘i (particularly with those associated with the socalled Missionary Party), appreciated this reference offered by the looking glass, which had been published in the Hawaiian language newspaper Ka Nupepa Kuokoa (“the Independent Newspaper”) on 6 July 1876. Kamehameha’s religious devotion and the successes garnered by divine favor were also represented by pieces of kālaipāhoa wood (Catalogue Nos. 295–296). These wood pieces originated supernaturally on the island of Moloka‘i. A god, Kāneikaulana‘ula, and his companions caused a grove of trees to miraculously appear overnight. The deities and their mana entered these trees and the trees became manifestations of these “gods who sought kingdoms (mau la‘au mana, a he mau akua ‘imi aupuni); that is, they were all gods in tree form who helped their worshipers to attain kingdoms.”107 These powerful, dangerous war gods were carefully honored and protected by the chiefs of Moloka‘i for several generations until the powerful Maui chief Kahekili took control of Moloka‘i. As he did with the kapu gods of Maui, Lana‘i, and O‘ahu, Kahekili appropriated the kālaipāhoa gods in order to maintain control of his enlarged domain. Later, when Kamehameha defeated Kahekili, he in turn appropriated these “gods who seized governments”; he was particularly interested in the kālaipāhoa gods (Kāneikaulana‘ula, Kānemanaiapai‘ea, Kahuilaokalani, and Kapo) because of their great mana. According to Kamakau, Kamehameha demanded the Olopua and Kālaipāhoa gods from Kahekili. Kahekili gave him a piece of kālaipāhoa wood from which Kamehameha carved a god image called Kānemanaiapai‘ea (“Kāne who gives mana to Pai‘ea”). Kamehameha had obtained the name Pai‘ea (“hardshelled crab”) earlier, while a warrior for the Hawai‘i chief Kalani‘ōpu‘u, during a battle between Kalani‘ōpu‘u and Kahekili. This is the first battle in which Kamehameha became noted for his warrior abilities and for having saved the life of his religious and military mentor, Kekuhaupi‘o (the best of Hawai‘i’s warriors at the time).108



(Re)Collecting History

The war gods of the various Hawaiian chiefdoms were ultimately linked with sorcery, prompting Kamehameha’s intent to secure the service of the gods of the chiefdoms he defeated. He appears to have elevated the kālaipāhoa gods even above his own Kūka‘ilimoku—his most powerful sorcery and war god until he acquired the kālaipāhoa. When he took them to the island of Hawai‘i in 1812, he built a special house (hale‘ilimai‘a) for them, set up guardians (kahu), prayed to them every morning and evening, and made generous offerings of pigs, coconuts, bark cloth, and red fish to them. It was said that only Kamehameha, certain priests, and the mo‘o kāula (“prophet lizard”) were left unharmed by these gods; all other animals or people dropped dead when in or near the hale‘ilimai‘a. Kamehameha grew stronger with the mana of the kālaipāhoa.109 The National Museum valued the kālaipāhoa wood because it served the interest of Kalākaua’s administration by looking to the past to legitimize his royal status. As “gods who sought kingdoms,” they gestured, too, to the future, promising to aid Kalākaua’s goal of forming of governments and overcoming his enemies. Like Kamehameha and Kahekili, Kalākaua desired possession of these gods to secure and enlarge his kingdom. Belief in the power of the kālaipāhoa gods persisted into Kalākaua’s time and later into the early twentieth century,110 and it is likely they were respected and feared national treasures. To retain them in his family’s possession, Kalākaua appears to have transferred the kālaipāhoa from the National Museum to the Hale Nauā collection sometime in the late 1880s, possibly after the Reform Government took power, as they were not included in the 1892–1893 Bishop Museum inventory of items acquired from the National Museum. Visually commemorating Kamehameha’s rise to power and subsequent fame as a wise and generous leader recalled similar objects and narratives associated with other usurping chiefs such as ‘Umi, who—despite their secondary pedigrees—became known for their military prowess and emerged as legendary heroes. This was a key motif for Kalākaua, who, like ‘Umi, had “many enemies who opposed his accession on account of the lowness of his royal birth,”111 and therefore had to take other measures to secure his kingship and prove his worthiness. Kalākaua indicated his right to the throne in two contemporary objects displayed in the museum. One was the ballot box used in his election as king and the other was a frame made of koa (Acacia koa) and kou (Cordia subcordata) woods “containing the manner in which D[avid] Kalakaua was elected as King” (Catalogue Nos. 377 and 378). These objects signified his popular support and conceptually bound him to the admired and beloved chiefs, ‘Umi and Kamehameha. My purpose is not to provide a comprehensive catalogue of the collection but rather to describe representative items that exemplify certain of the museum’s collecting practices and related ideological claims. The Hawaiian National Museum relied on objects’ metonymic and metaphoric references to the specific chiefs, events, and places to (re)collect a narrative of Hawaiian history that demonstrated the continuity and integrity of the nation. By remembering and venerating the ancient past, honoring key heroes, underplaying the role of foreign contributions, and celebrating Kalākaua and Kapi‘iolani’s

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impressive lineages, the museum made clear the existence of an independent Hawaiian polity led by gifted and powerful rulers and a long record of national success and progress. Material evidence from the past was posed to address, if not actively rectify, certain national problems such as depopulation and threats of disunity and colonial dispossession. Collecting and publicly displaying objects linked to key actors in Hawaiian history was an effective strategy given the mana retained by things (as well as people, places, and events) in Hawaiian thought. The sacred quality of chiefly bodies and possessions was a direct by-product of their divinity and did not diminish with time. The objects’ potent sacrosanct associations with legendary, historic, and contemporary individuals enhanced the museum’s historical and contemporary claims, which could be appreciated by a Native Hawaiian or a highly informed non-Native Hawaiian audience. To say that the Hawaiian National Museum formalized a national historical identity is only a partial characterization. A process emphasizing the interdependency of colonizer and colonized in cultural production mediated the museum’s claims. In adopting the museum institution and natural history systems of knowledge, the indigenous elite aligned itself with the very imperial values and discourses of power and civilization that threatened Hawaiian independence and national parity. Yet, by insisting on a historical presence and thereby subverting the expectation of the (ethnological) collection, the museum redirected these discourses and undermined ahistorical scientific classifications. Homi Bhabha, in his oft-cited essay, “Of Mimicry and Man,” points out the uneasy tension between mimicry and mockery: “The menace of mimicry is its double vision which in disclosing the ambivalence of colonial discourse also disrupts its authority”; occupying a liminal position (same yet different, resemblance yet menace), it generates deep anxiety.112 The Hawaiian National Museum represents the deployment of science and its subversion, through deep history. As such, it mimicked and mocked, revealing the discursive entanglements of colonial cultures. Yet anxiety and derision generated by nonNative voices, articulated most clearly by missionary descendants and the business elite who eventually imposed, by force, a Reform Government in 1887, coexisted with Native concern for its own cultural integrity and continuity. The Hawaiian National Museum affirmed Native Hawaiian culture and the confidence and aspirations of the nation and its king, while expressing unease about the nation’s uncertain future.





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The Artistic Legacy of the Kalākaua Era

Upon his election to the throne in 1874, Kalākaua enjoyed the initial— if guarded—support of many haole representatives and nobles. They believed he was controllable and would better serve their interests—particularly with regard to expanding the sugar industry and developing stronger ties with the United States—than his pro-British rival Queen Emma. Kalākaua’s immediate conflict was with those in the Native Hawaiian constituency who favored Queen Emma and/or who doubted his qualifications to rule. Their vocal and violent reaction to his electoral success propelled the king’s efforts to legitimize his kingship in grand fashion. Perhaps recognizing his limitations in securing the cooperation of the haole business, planter, and missionary communities, Kalākaua focused his energies on winning the confidence of Native Hawaiians and foreign leaders. But the strategy of aggrandizing the kingship and the kingdom in the view of the Native and international communities by producing visible, monumental, and permanent symbols of the king’s and the nation’s authenticity generated mixed response. While the monarchy gained some recognition from foreign states and the support from the majority of Native subjects, the administration’s various projects increasingly alienated the majority haole and minority Native opposition. This opposition gained momentum as the 1880s unfolded. Discord with the haole elite began to escalate at the beginning of the decade, when Kalākaua collaborated with Celso Caesar Moreno on a variety of plans and appointed him premier of the kingdom in 1880. Moreno encouraged the king to develop trade relations with China rather than the United States by permitting unlimited immigration, expanding the processing and distribution of opium, and establishing a line of Chinese steamers to transport goods and laborers between Asia and Hawai‘i. He also supported a $10 million loan bill proposed by Representative Robert Hoapili Baker and introduced a bill providing for a submarine telegraphic cable between China, Hawai‘i, and the United States. Legislators’ growing concern with the sway Moreno had on the king and his plans for excessive spending led them to demand his dismissal.1 Critics also expressed their disapproval of other influential advisers such as Gibson, who they characterized as a

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scoundrel seeking his own paths to power, and sugar magnate Claus Spreckels, to whom the king and the country were becoming increasingly indebted.2 Haole detractors and their Native allies additionally lost patience with Kalākaua’s engagement with foreign affairs. Though he pursued labor agreements and furthered diplomatic exchanges abroad, his 1881 world tour was construed as a pricey personal entertainment. Other attempts to expand international relations were similarly ridiculed by the king’s rivals. In 1883, Kalākaua’s administration sent commissioners to central and western Polynesia to promote political alliances and urged Western powers to recognize the independence of Pacific Island polities. The administration dispatched H. A. P. Carter as an envoy to Europe in 1885 to determine whether Hawai‘i could assume a leading role in assisting Pacific Island communities in forming internationally recognized independent states. From late 1886 to 1887, they sent an embassy to Samoa that succeeded in securing King Malietoa Laupepea’s agreement to join a Polynesian confederation. All these missions contributed to the crown’s efforts to ensure Hawaiian independence and leadership in Oceania. His political antagonists, however, assessed these projects as costly failures and international embarrassments; they felt the economic resources and political energies of the administration should be focused on domestic affairs and strengthening ties with American markets.3 Kalākaua’s coronation, likewise, fueled the scorn of his critics. His government was criticized for saddling the nation’s coffers with unnecessary extravagances that negatively impacted general morale and the country’s welfare. Some elements of the investiture ceremony—notably hula performances and their accompanying chants, which were interpreted as backward strides to heathenism—offended missionary descendants who prided the accomplishments of their forebears.4 The more the Kalākaua leadership worked to restore national pride and foster unity among Native Hawaiians and secure global acknowledgment, the further it estranged its opposition. Countering what they portrayed as government corruption and irresponsibility, haole business and social leaders established the Independent Party in 1883 and put forward candidates, Native and haole, who supported more prudent government. For haole detractors, this meant electing representatives who promoted business interests and allowed the largest individual contributors to the tax base to have more say in authorizing government appropriations. Native Hawaiians who believed Kalākaua’s spending jeopardized the nation’s standing and survival desired fiscal policies that ensured Hawaiian independence. While the Independent Party defeated some of the king’s National “Hawai‘i for Hawaiians” Party candidates in the 1884 elections, it was less successful in 1886. The failure of the opposition party to win over Native voters confirmed, in the minds of its haole membership, the inability of the indigenous population to properly manage its own affairs and provoked the party’s executive committee (Sanford B. Dole, William R. Castle, and W. O. Smith) to instigate more radical measures to reform the government in a manner that secured their leadership.5 In January 1887, they secretly formed the Hawaiian League, which consisted of over four hundred members, none of whom possessed a Hawaiian or Asian surname. On June



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30, Hawaiian League members used the surfacing of allegations that the king had accepted a bribe to grant a license to sell opium to hold a mass meeting, guarded by the Honolulu Rifles, to discuss the misadministration of the kingdom and propose remedies. A group, headed by Paul Isenberg, presented to the king a set of demands that had been announced at the meeting, which included noninterference in future elections, the removal of Gibson, the appointment of a new cabinet that would support a new constitution, and the repayment of a large sum transacted in the illegal opium license scandal. Though Kalākaua’s written response did not make specific mention of acceding to a revised constitution and did not admit guilt to taking any bribes, it submitted to the league’s petition on July 1. During the next several days, the league drafted the constitution that has come to be known as the Bayonet Constitution, which placed heavy restrictions on the executive power of the king and instated the election (rather than the royal appointment) of nobles. It also redefined the electorate by mandating minimal financial assets, literacy, and support of the new constitution, prohibiting Asians from voting, and opening the vote to noncitizens who met the other qualifications. Kalākaua signed this document on July 6. Lili‘uokalani assumed the throne after Kalākaua’s death in January 1891. Determined to restore royal authority, she moved to promulgate a new constitution in January 1893. Members of a clandestine Annexation Club, which had formed a year after Kalākaua’s death, appointed a Committee of Safety (chaired by Henry E. Cooper and consisting of many of the same men associated with the Hawaiian League) to organize a response. With the unauthorized cooperation of American minister to Hawai‘i John L. Stevens, the committee overthrew the monarchy and set up a provisional government largely led by Americans and Hawaiian-born Americans. After occupying Ali‘iōlani Hale, declaring martial law, and demanding the surrender of the queen (who did so under protest), the provisional government immediately dispatched a commission to Washington, D.C., to negotiate a treaty of political union between the Hawaiian Islands and the United States. For eighteen months, the provisional government lobbied American lawmakers. President Grover Cleveland’s antiexpansionist Democratic administration, which determined the illegality of the overthrow and worked to restore the monarchy, refused the treaty presented by the commission. Waiting for a friendlier administration, one that could see the mutual benefit of annexation, the Hawaiian government called a convention to draft a constitution for the Republic of Hawai‘i in March 1894. It was adopted on the Fourth of July that same year. Non-Native political leaders continued to work for annexation for several years. It was in 1898, during President William McKinley’s term in office, that their goals were accomplished. Hawai‘i remained an American territory for sixty years and was admitted as a state in 1959. Since the promulgation of the 1887 Bayonet Constitution, a gradual but forceful erasure of Native Hawaiian art, culture, and history ensued. Almost immediately following the 1887 special election, legislators halted funding to government projects they felt unnecessary or wasteful, such as Ka Papa Kū‘auhau o Nā Ali‘i (The Board of Genealogy of Hawaiian Chiefs), the Hawaiian Board of Health (which supported the practice

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of Native medicine), and the Hawaiian National Museum and Library.6 The government also marginalized indigenous language, mandating English as the language of instruction in public and private schools in an 1896 law signed by Sanford B. Dole, president of the Republic of Hawai‘i. Furthermore, the historical archives were increasingly managed by missionary descendants and nonindigenous Hawaiians. Despite the displacement of Native Hawaiian images, texts, and cultural practices, the monuments of the Kalākaua period remained visible and present throughout the following century. These public fixtures could not be expunged or undone. Nationalist monuments of the Kalākaua era persistently bear on the present, actively punctuating the visual landscape of Honolulu and its cultural institutions. For instance, the valued holdings of the Hawaiian National Museum today form a key part of the Bernice Pauahi Bishop Museum collection, which houses the largest collection of Native Hawaiian and Oceanic material culture in the world. The Bishop Museum spotlights many of the National Museum pieces in its Hawaiian Hall permanent exhibit and several special exhibits. Objects featured in the museum’s recent publications, events, and displays include the following: the papa hōlua (sled) of Lonoikamakahiki, a focus for the “Lono-I-Ka-Makahiki” exhibit (2005) that explained to viewers the significance of ritualized athleticism honoring the goddess Pele; Manaiakalani, the “Hook from the Heavens,” which occupies a central display case in the “Bernice Pauahi Bishop, A Legacy for Hawai‘i” exhibition that opened in February 2007; and the shell trumpet Kihapu, legends of which were detailed in a recent issue of Ka ‘Elele, the museum’s quarterly journal.7 Several of the symbols of kingship presented at Kalākaua’s coronation ceremony endure as cherished artifacts of the monarchy period. While Kalākaua’s Ring of State remains protected in the Bishop Museum and the golden feather cloak of Kamehameha I is a permanent fixture in its Hawaiian Hall, other of the royal regalia were installed in the first permanent exhibition of ceremonial objects associated with the monarchy at ‘Iolani Palace in 2000. Here, local residents and visitors can appreciate the king and queen’s crowns, the Royal Scepter and Sword of State, as well as the pahu heiau (temple drum) Naniuaola, which contribute to the exhibition theme emphasizing the mutual relationship between chiefs, the common people, and the gods.8 The history of Kalākaua’s crown mirrors that of the Hawaiian monarchy, having been stolen and defaced in 1893, the year Queen Lili‘uokalani was deposed, and though recovered, it was left neglected until refurbished in the 1920s. The reinstatement of the Crown of Hawai‘i and other regalia in the venerated space of the palace is fitting; here, they convey royal mana into present sight as Native Hawaiian issues gain visibility at the state and federal levels. The King Kamehameha Monument continues to be annually honored during the Kamehameha Day celebrations held annually in June. Representatives from all the Hawaiian Islands participate in the event, which includes music, chants, hula performances and competitions, a parade, a procession of members of Hawaiian societies in full regalia, Native sports and games, and cultural demonstrations. Forming the visual and performative core of the festival is the ceremonial lei-draping of the statue (Plate 15), which is echoed



The Artistic Legacy of the Kala¯kaua Era

Figure 42. Kamehameha Monument featured on a three-cent United States postage stamp, part of the “Territorial Series” issued in 1937. Photograph by S. L. Kamehiro, 2007.

at the replicas of the Kamehameha Statue on the island of Hawai‘i and at Washington, D.C., in the nation’s Statuary Hall. Contemporary participants and observers honor Kamehameha as a great leader who inspires hope for future generations. The statue is a symbol of unity and, in the words of one viewer, “He may be a statue but he represents Hawaii.”9 The “fighting spirit of Kamehameha,” described by an O‘ahu participant, also invigorates protests of the American colonization of Hawai‘i, such as during Kamehameha Day 1992 when sovereignty activists seeking federal recognition of Native Hawaiian rights to land, culture, and self-government clashed with police.10 In 2006, Kamehameha Day and the monument took on additional significance, as the “Native Hawaiian Government Reorganization Act,” calling for federal recognition of Native Hawaiians as indigenous Americans, was defeated in the Senate the previous week. The rallying cry, “We are not deterred,” at the lei-draping ceremony demonstrated Native Hawaiian support for the perseverance of their elected representatives, as well as hope for accord.11 As a cultural and political icon of the Hawaiian nation and its people, the image of the Kamehameha Monument was featured on a three-cent United States postage stamp, part of the “Territorial Series” issued in 1937 (Fig. 42), commemorating Hawai‘i’s status as an American territory. Ironically, this stamp resembles one released in 1883, the same year the monument was unveiled, celebrating Hawaiian national history and independence.12 More recently, the statue was included on three of the five finalist designs for the Hawai‘i State Quarter, released by Governor Linda Lingle’s Hawai‘i Commemorative

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Figure 43. Finalist designs for the Hawai‘i State Quarter, released by Governor Linda Lingle’s Hawai‘i Commemorative Quarter Advisory Commission in December 2006. United States Mint image.

Quarter Advisory Commission in December 2006 (Fig. 43). In addition to an image of a male surfer before a backdrop of Diamond Head, entitled “Surfing—Hawai‘i’s Gift to the World,” and a female hula dancer juxtaposed with the Hawaiian Island chain, representing “Aloha Spirit,” the three remaining images contain the Kamehameha Monument combined with either the eight Hawaiian Islands or Diamond Head (Lē‘ahi), evoking the themes of “Diamond Head,” “Hawai‘i the Island State,” and “Hawai‘i, Diverse But Unified.” A December 2006 poll conducted by the Honolulu Advertiser indicated preference for the three designs featuring the Kamehameha image.13 Reverence for the Kamehameha icon has also prompted vocal criticism by offended Native Hawaiian organizations when a Celebrity Cruise print advertisement showed a glass of champagne in the Conqueror’s upraised arm. Protesters were outraged by corporate insensitivity and disrespect paid to the Hawaiian leader, which was likened to vandalism, causing the cruise line to withdraw the ad and the Hawai‘i Tourism Authority to draft guidelines outlining proper protocol with regard to Native Hawaiian issues.14 ‘Iolani Palace, too, functions today as a potent symbol of Hawaiian culture and history. A contested space, the palace forms a site of celebration and dissent. The centennial of its construction, the only royal palace on American soil was honored on a U.S. postage stamp issued in 1979. Commemorations of the birthdates of Hawaiian royalty are held at ‘Iolani Palace, such as lū‘au and musical tributes to Lili‘uokalani, who was herself a gifted musician, special evening openings in memory of Kapi‘olani, and reenactments of Kalākaua’s Grand Jubilee celebration.15 For Jubilee remembrances, the palace is ornamented with Hawaiian flags, Kalākaua’s royal banner, and red, white, and blue bunting to replicate its appearance at the original event held on 16 November 1886 (Fig. 44). The space is brought alive with chants and hula, performances by the Royal Hawaiian Band,



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Figure 44. ‘Iolani Palace decorated in red, white, and blue bunting, the Hawaiian flag, and Kalākaua’s banner on the occasion of Kalākaua’s Jubilee celebration, 1886. Courtesy Archives of Hawai‘i (15569).

review of the Royal Guard, and tributes by Native Hawaiian societies honoring the royal family and their descendants.16 A symbol of hope, ‘Iolani Palace was selected as the venue in which to greet and honor the fourteenth Dalai Lama during his 1994 “Compassion for World Peace” tour. Respect was shown through a ceremonial gift presentation (ho‘okupu), which took place at a stone altar (ahu) constructed in the enclosure.17 ‘Iolani Palace, however, also forms the site for demonstrations contesting the loss of Hawaiian sovereignty. Dissent has been enacted in a variety of ways. In November 2006, on the heels of Kalākaua’s birthday celebration, sovereignty groups gathered there to observe the 163rd anniversary of England and France’s recognition of Hawai‘i as an independent nation.18 The 28th of November was previously celebrated as Independence Day (La Ku‘oko‘a), an official holiday from 1843 until 1895, when leaders of the Republic of Hawai‘i replaced it with Thanksgiving as a national holiday. The renewed observation of independence draws attention to the accomplishments of the monarchy in securing international recognition of Hawaiian nationhood and the illegality of American jurisdiction over the Islands. Sovereignty activists have also gathered at ‘Iolani Palace to perform countermemorials of Hawaiian statehood and American Independence Day.19 In August 2006 sovereignty advocates confronted state officials who had assembled at the palace, the location where statehood was announced in 1959. Those in opposition to the event declared the site a crime scene, where Queen Lili‘uokalani was unlawfully deposed and held captive. Most recently, as of this writing, on 30 April 2008, the Hawaiian Kingdom Government, a sovereignty group that declares itself the legitimate governing body, reclaimed the palace grounds as its rightful seat of government. Members of the group chained the

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gates in the walled perimeter, posted “Warning! No trespassing. This is private property” signs, and restricted access to kānaka maoli (people of Native Hawaiian descent), the media, and visitors who agreed to register with their government. This was the first time a group protesting the overthrow of the monarchy at ‘Iolani Palace had taken control of the site. While the Hawaiian Kingdom Government peacefully departed the grounds in the late afternoon, its officers planned to return daily to conduct government business (though now without prohibiting entry to visitors), which is dedicated to developing quality affordable housing, making education and health care accessible to all qualifying residents, promoting a global curriculum, properly utilizing local resources, and broadening political participation.20 Perhaps the most dramatic expression of Native Hawaiian protest was the centennial observance, organized by the Onipa‘a (“Steadfast,” a motto of Lili‘uokalani) Centennial Committee, of the overthrow of the monarchy on 17 January 1893.21 Conveying an atmosphere of mourning, the palace was draped in black bunting and was dignified by a torchlight ceremony (Plate 16). Attended by approximately ten thousand people, the demonstration included a march to the palace, reenactment of the overthrow, rally, and musical performance (titled “Hawai‘i: A Nation Reborn”), whose televisual presentation was augmented by segments on Hawaiian history. The mood throughout was solemn but optimistic. Concluding the event, Hālau O Na Kamalei performed a chant the following morning at the palace, which Robert Cazimero, leader (kumu hula) of the dance group (hālau), selected because it urged viewers “to hold fast to what is ours . . . to continue our fight for what we believe is right.”22 This enduring cultural legacy is testament to the capacity of Kalākaua-era national cultural forms to continue to generate meanings and form communities. The monuments examined in this study represent different modes of meaning-making: Kalākaua’s coronation and presentation of royal regalia provided an awesome display of his kingship, performing history and sanctity; ‘Iolani Palace formed an enduring spatial expression of chiefly endeavor and privilege; the King Kamehameha Monument harnessed and mobilized history, infusing the present with the strength and energy of past leadership; and the Hawaiian National Museum collected, ordered, and preserved history and knowledge. United in common political purpose, however, all demonstrated the history and continuity of the modern Hawaiian nation and did so in a highly public manner. Visual culture mediated the forming of social groups. Drawing the attention of those in whom the Native leadership wished to instill a sense of belonging and optimism for the future, Hawaiian national visual culture fashioned spaces of discourse through which communities—publics—coalesced. Self-creating and self-sustaining publics gain unity, coherence, and identity through representation.23 Through his public projects, Kalākaua shaped social space. The cultural activity examined in this study functioned differently than other of his and his supporters’ nationalist undertakings, such as the Hale Nauā Society, Hawaiian language publications, private hula patronage, and the Board of Genealogy, whose participation was mostly limited to



The Artistic Legacy of the Kala¯kaua Era

the Native elite. These practices and texts addressed and circulated among Native communities, mobilizing pride in Native culture. Hawaiian print media enjoyed widest transmission, creating an important means of political organizing and cultural preservation, but its audience was confined to those with linguistic facility and cultural knowledge. The intentional exclusion of those who could not comprehend its significance and veiled meanings clearly had political purpose.24 To survive, aspiring to mature to fruition, discourses opposing the expanding power of the settler population could not so freely or openly flow and were instead pursued in more sheltered contexts. “Subaltern counterpublics,” as Nancy Fraser terms alternative publics formed by subordinated groups, constitute “parallel discursive arenas where members of subordinated social groups invent and circulate counterdiscourses to formulate oppositional interpretations of their identities, interests, and needs.”25 In contrast, the broadly unrestricted nature of the coronation, palace, monument, and museum point to the desire to address, assemble, and transform wider-ranging publics. While the display of these visual and performative tributes to the monarchy magnified the king’s mana in Native vision, it also garnered the attention of non-Native residents of the nation (both those supporting and opposing the monarchy) and international audiences. Situated in Honolulu, the social, political, and economic center and site of contention in the kingdom, national culture was most visible and resonated with diverse yet mutually bound communities interacting in shared cultural fields. Addressing nonindigenous settlers, national culture promoted an inclusive ideology, inviting those who respected the ali‘i nui and the Native people to join. The syncretic cultural forms of nation-ness spoke to the possibility of productive collaboration and coexistence of Native and non-Native Hawaiians. The Kalākaua court also sought to gain validation of the nation among other states, prodding memory of its formal recognition as an equal partner in the community of nations and the inviolability of Hawaiian sovereignty, and in so doing discourage American interference in the affairs of the kingdom. Engaging internationally recognized symbols of leadership and nationhood, the Hawaiian leadership demonstrated its compatibility with and commitment to modern values and interests. The open-ended, indeterminate nature of public visual discourse encouraged varying and overlapping significations that were conditioned by the histories and expectations of different publics. Both Native and non-Native Hawaiians engaged cultural technologies of modernity and nation making through which aligned and competing cultural logics converged. For many non-Native residents of the kingdom, national monuments and institutions of the Kalākaua era in some measure (though not without ambivalence) represented their own social and economic successes. The neoclassical bronze sculpture commemorating the centennial of Cook’s arrival in the Islands, a sophisticated inaugural ceremony for a constitutional monarch, state architecture bearing the dignified imprint of Western guidance, and a national museum showcasing Hawaiian cultural and scientific contributions to the international community signaled the progress of the missionaries, their descendants, and other non-Native settlers in civilizing and shaping the nation.

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Thus, one can only partially characterize Hawaiian national visual culture, which clearly tendered countercolonial discourses, as resistance. Rather, the visual texts discussed here generated alternative social imaginaries and “multiple modernities.”26 This study has been less concerned with the ways national visual discourses circulated among non-Native communities and has focused instead on how state-centered visual culture was productive of meanings for those seeking support for Kalākaua’s leadership. The meaningful flow of national images to other viewers, however, cannot be dismissed. These engendered collaboration and contention among disparate and related groups, drawing broad participation, support, and criticism. While fiercely contested by some sectors of Hawaiian society, the public symbols of the nation were not so absolutely rejected by those who wished to dismantle the monarchy that their effacement was required. This stands in contrast to the unyielding and bitter censure by the haole moral minority of indigenous dance, poetry, healing, and the pursuit of Native knowledge in organizations such as the Hale Nauā and Board of Genealogy. Perhaps the capacity of Kalākaua’s public culture projects to signify different modernities is a partial cause for their duration as consequential symbols into the present. In the late nineteenth century, the monarchy embraced the “international grammar of nationhood” and evinced a committed stride into modernity, conditioned by indigenous histories and epistemologies. This was not a hollow or mechanical survival strategy or a simple accommodation of Western cultural forms and representations. Native leaders and their supporters were stimulated and intrigued by art, travel, technology, science, and monarchical traditions anchored in other places and other times, and they adapted new ways of history making.27 Visual forms and institutions deployed in the public sphere marshaled indigenous narratives and symbols in innovative forms, proffering a future-oriented historical memory that defended the viability of the throne and the kingdom’s place in the host of nations. To naturalize claims about national identity, Kalākaua’s nationalist movement activated a variety of objects, images, and spaces that formalized national memory and responded to competing national symbols advanced by those who had little faith in the survival of a Native Hawaiian state.28 The past gained an authority of its own in this process. Shils suggests the past becomes sacred when it is thought to be vital to continued existence and is represented through symbols believed to be essential to maintaining a correct order in the present.29 To preserve and protect the Hawaiian nation, “the past,” as it manifested both “tradition” and “modernity,” was key to Native Hawaiian nationalist discourse. The self-conscious construction of cultural models and identities, as exemplified in the coronation, ‘Iolani Palace, Kamehameha Monument, and Hawaiian National Museum, is a selective and creative process. Communities actively affirm and shape their identities through representations that have agency insofar as they are seen and permitted to circulate. As representations are bound to shifting cultural actions and identities, one can view visual expressions of Hawaiian national culture as what Ortner identifies as “summarizing symbols,” metonymic devices that synthesize an amalgamation of ideas



The Artistic Legacy of the Kala¯kaua Era

and are especially significant as signs of collective identity.30 The public and performative character of Hawaiian national visual culture and the poetics inherent in its various forms advanced Hawaiian independence and evolving notions of indigenous rulership and, today, the right to self-determination. National symbols of the Kalākaua era, denoting the arts of kingship insomuch as the survival of the nation was contingent on the survival of its monarchy, imaged a robust, healthy-bodied, intellectual, prosperous, and modern Hawaiian nation. These survive into the present not just as powerful icons that produce meanings for contemporary viewers, but as compelling evidence of a rich, Native Hawaiian art history.

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Catalogue of the Hawaiian National Museum and Library

This catalogue was compiled to demonstrate the character and scope of the Hawaiian National Museum and Library and to facilitate its study. While I have tried to be comprehensive, this work can only be considered a partial and working catalogue, as the records of the museum are dispersed, incomplete, and sometimes discrepant. The catalogue is reconstructed from a variety of published and unpublished sources but primarily draws on the following, listed chronologically: • n.a. 1874. “Different Assortments of Curiosities Received from the Palace this 23rd day of September 1874,” Bernice Pauahi Bishop Museum Archives Ms Doc 17. • Hitchcock, H. R. ca. 1875. “Report of the Curator of the National Museum.” FO and Ex, Numbered Documents, no dates, No. 20, State Archives of Hawai‘i. • Nākuina, Emma. ca. 1882–1887. “Catalogue of Specimens in the Hawaiian Government Museum,” Bernice Pauahi Bishop Museum Archives, Ms Case 4, H112. • Bernice Pauahi Bishop Museum (BPBM). Acquisitions Records, beginning 1891. • Bernice Pauahi Bishop Museum (BPBM). 1892–1893. A Preliminary Catalogue of the Bernice Pauahi Bishop Museum of Polynesian Ethnology and Natural History, Parts I–V. Honolulu: Bernice P. Bishop Museum. • Bernice Pauahi Bishop Museum Ethnology Database (BPBM-ED).1 2006. See http:// www2.bishopmuseum.org/ethnologydb/index.asp. In addition to the sources listed above, I have combed exhibition catalogues and anthropological publications from the nineteenth century to the present for additional information on the museum’s holdings.

Notes on Catalogue Entries 1. Entries that describe objects found in the 1874 source and in Hitchcock’s report (ca. 1875) are so noted. 2. Entries or notes taken from Nākuina’s unpublished catalogue are so referenced. When these entries stand alone, this indicates either they were not included in the collection transferred to the Bishop Museum in 1891 or that a clear correspondence between an item in the Hawaiian National Museum and one in the Bishop Museum collection cannot be verified. As Nākuina’s catalogue is unpublished, her entries are reproduced verbatim with slight revisions for punctuation, as many of her entries are in note form.

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3. Entries identified from the Bishop Museum Acquisition Records, Preliminary Catalogue, Ethnology Database, and Ethnological Catalogue binders are listed with the Bishop Museum catalogue number (indicated by “BPBM”). 4. Entries derived from the BPBM’s Preliminary Catalogue published in 1892–1893 contain spelling and descriptions presented verbatim. Any added or corrected information and entries derived from other sources are bracketed or included in the endnotes. 5. Many items removed from the Hawaiian National Museum’s collection prior to its transfer to the Bernice Pauahi Bishop Museum in 1891 are not accounted for here. Numerous objects, particularly those associated with chiefs (e.g., featherwork and drums) were idenitified as part of the “Government Collection” or the “Government Museum” but were not transferred to the Bishop Museum in 1891. Some of these valued objects were moved to the Bishop Museum in 1893, after the overthrow of the Hawaiian monarchy, and in 1898, when Hawai‘i was made a territory of the United States. Other significant items appear to have been relocated to the royal family’s personal collection and to the Hale Nauā collection. Eventually, many of these objects became holdings of the Bishop Museum. 6. Catalogue numbers listed in the left column were generated for the purpose of this collection reconstruction. 7. Entries included here that were obtained from sources other than those listed above are referenced and/or bracketed. 8. Published images of museum items in print sources are noted. 9. Diacritical marks used in present-day Hawaiian orthography (e.g., ‘okina [‘] and kahakō [macron]) are omitted when an entry is derived from a nineteenth-century source in which such practices were not employed. 10. This catalogue reconstruction uses the general classificatory scheme (with slight modification) and terminology of BPBM 1892–1893 to preserve typologies and language employed in the late nineteenth century.

Catalogue Contents Part I: Hawai‘i: Kāhili, Feather Ornaments, Mats, and Kapa A. Featherwork: Cat. Nos. 1–7 B. Kapa [bark cloth]: Cat. Nos. 8–63 C. Na Moena [mats]: Cat. Nos. 64–67

Part II: Hawai‘i: Household Implements, Tools, Amusements, War, Worship, Ornaments, Medicine, Fisheries and Canoes, Relics of Chiefs A.

Household Implements • i. Wood ‘Umeke [bowls]: Cat. Nos. 68–79 • ii. Na Ipu Holoi Lima [finger bowls]: Cat. No. 80 • iii. Na Pā [dishes]: Cat. Nos. 81–88 • iv. Gourd ‘Umeke: Cat. Nos. 89–93



B. C. D. E. F. G. H. I. J. K.

Catalogue

• v. Huewai [gourd water bottles]: Cat. Nos. 94–105 • vi. Gourd Containers: Cat. Nos. 106–111 • vii. Na Ipu ‘Aina [refuse containers]: Cat. Nos. 112–114 • viii. Ipu Kuha [refuse containers]: Cat. Nos. 115–121 • ix. Coconut Bowls and Utensils: Cat. Nos. 122–131 • x. Mortars: Cat. Nos. 132–133 • xi. Pōhaku Ku‘i Poi [poi pounders]: Cat. Nos. 134–137 • xii. Fire-sticks: Cat. No. 138 • xiii. Door Stones: Cat. No. 139 • xiv. Uluna [pillows]: Cat. No. 140 • xv. Back Rubbers for Lomilomi: Cat. Nos. 141–143 • xvi. Lighting Implements: Cat. Nos. 144–146 • xvii. Ipu Baka [tobacco pipes]: Cat. Nos. 147–150 • xviii. Mirrors: Cat. No. 151 • xix. Netting: Cat. Nos. 152–154 Tools: Cat. Nos. 155–185 Amusements • i. Games and Sports: Cat. Nos. 186–211 • ii. Drums and Musical Instruments: Cat. Nos. 212–234 Implements of War: Cat. Nos. 235–242 Worship: Cat. Nos. 243–252 Ornaments: Cat. Nos. 253–274 Dress: Cat. Nos. 275–281 Medicine: Cat. Nos. 282–296 Fisheries and Canoes: Cat. Nos. 297–346 Relics of Chiefs: Cat. Nos. 347–378 Miscellaneous: Cat. Nos. 379–382

Part III: Other Polynesian Islands, New Hebrides, Fiji, Solomon Islands, New Guinea, Micronesia A. B.

Polynesia • i. Samoan Islands: Cat. Nos. 383–434 • ii. Easter Island [Rapa Nui]: Cat. Nos. 435–455 • iii. Miscellaneous: Cat. Nos. 456–469 Melanesia • i. New Hebrides [Vanuatu]: Cat. Nos. 470–485 • ii. Fiji or Viti Islands: Cat. Nos. 486–492 • iii. Solomon Islands: Cat. Nos. 493–500 • iv. New Britain: Cat. Nos. 501–516 • v. New Ireland: Cat. Nos. 517–523 • vi. Melanesia without More Particular Locality and Miscellaneous: Cat. Nos. 524–527

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C. D.

Micronesia • i. Caroline Islands: Cat. Nos. 528–606 • ii. Gilbert Islands [Kiribati]: Cat. Nos. 607–650 • iii. Marshall Islands: Cat. Nos. 651–660 • iv. Micronesia without More Particular Locality and Miscellaneous: Cat. Nos. 661–684 Other Ethnological Artifacts: Cat. Nos. 685–758

Part IV: Portraits and Views: Cat. Nos. 759–768 Part V: The Natural History Collections A. B. C. D. E. F. G. H. I. J. K. L.

Birds of the Hawaiian Islands: Cat. No. 769 Fishes, Crustacea, Radiates, etc.: Cat. Nos. 770–788 Marine Shells, Hawaiian: Cat. Nos. 789–902 Corals and Corallines: Cat. Nos. 903–917 Vegetable Productions: Cat. Nos. 918–919 Hawaiian Woods New Zealand Woods California Woods: Cat. Nos. 920–930 Japanese Woods: Cat. Nos. 931–1050 Hawaiian Ferns: Cat. No. 1051 Geological and Mineralogical Specimens: Cat. Nos. 1052–1139 Miscellaneous: Cat. Nos. 1140–1153

Part VI: Books in the Hawaiian Government Library



Catalogue

Catalogue of the Hawaiian National Museum and Library In the following lists, the number in the first column is the catalogue number, followed by the description of each object.

Part I: Hawai‘i: Kāhili, Feather Ornaments, Mats, and Kapa

A. Featherwork 1. Leihulu Pue. Feather necklet. All yellow (Nākuina, 18a). 2. Leihulu Ee. Feather necklet. All yellow of down (Nākuina, 18a). 3. Lei Pauku elele. Feather necklet with sections of black and yellow (Nākuina, 18a).2 4. Lei wilo. Feather necklet of red[,] yellow and black feathers laid on spirally (Nākuina, 18a).3 5. Lei hoomoemoe. Two necklets of yellow feathers, the latter laid down in making. A favorite fashion of the olden times (Nākuina, 18a). 6. Lei Papa. Two flat feather head wreaths or bands made in different styles. They are now used as hat-bands but in the olden times were worn as coronets by the women. Feather leis constituted the [chief] ornaments of women of the olden times and in fact supplied the place of jewelry. They are as much prized by their daughters of the present day, but by the greater destruction of birds from the use of firearms, a genuine feather necklet is getting to be a rare thing (Nākuina, 18a). 7. BPBM 2801: Lei hulu manu. [“Oo feathers, large and of brilliant yellow. While the property of the Government it was sent to an exposition in Paris and there ruined by the upsetting of a bottle of ink; the stains cannot be removed by any ordinary washing. This lei is [among] the largest . . . seen either in museums or private hands; 24 inches long” (Brigham 1899, 27).] B. Kapa [tapa, bark cloth] 8. Ie kuku. Mallets used in the manufacture of kapa. The kapas are made from the inner bark of the Wauke or Mamaki, paper mulberry, and are first laid on a log, called a kua and beaten with the coarsest ground side of a mallet, then folded and steeped in water a few days, when it is taken out and again beaten, steeped, dried, beaten, etc., over and over again the material spreading out and becoming wider, longer and more attenuated the longer it is beaten. During the process different grooved sides of the mallet are used in different stages of the work, finishing up with the finest grooves if intended to be of first quality (Nākuina, 13–14).4 9. BPBM 727: Kua Kuku [anvil on which bark cloth is beaten]. Well made, good condition. Length 5 ft. 4½ in. 10. BPBM 755: Papa hole kua ula [grooved slab for making pa‘u]. Always of the hardest wood and cut longitudinally with the hoopai pattern. 29 x 5¼ in. 11. BPBM 1267: Dye cord, kapa. Cordage. 12. Specimens of some of the different cloths made and worn by natives of the olden times (Nākuina, 11).5 13. Kalukalu. Cobweb kapa. The finest quality of kapa made. The knowledge of its manufacture was confined to a few families, who made them for their respective chiefs.

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No commoner dared to wear it. On the introduction of foreign stuffs the chiefs generally were so taken with the novelties that there was no longer any demand for the kalukalu, and as the knowledge of its production was confined to so few, it was soon lost by the death of these, who did not deem it necessary to instruct their children, on seeing the new order of things (Nākuina, 11–12). 14. Ae o Kakaloa. A blue grey kapa printed with various designs arranged [lengthwise,] hence the name. It was one of the kapas most used in former times to wrap the gods when being carried from temple to temple. It is always wanted in incantations for the object of driving away an obnoxious spirit (Nākuina, 13). 15. 200 Ornamented Kapa Malo [loincloths] (called kuaula [ribbed bark cloth]) made out of wauke trees. [Received from ‘Iolani Palace. Identified in the 1874 inventory and Hitchcock ca. 1875.] 16. Kuikui.6 Joined or pieced. Kapa of different colors, where these are dyed separately, the patterns cut out of each cloth and then set in the pattern wanted, when they are beaten or felted onto the ground work of white or colored cloth (Nākuina, 12). 17. Kua ula. Red back. The coarsest grade of kapa made. Used in wrapping piles of the better quality, or for sleeping clothes for the lowest menials (Nākuina, 13). 18. BPBM 2335: Kapa. 2 pieces. 19. BPBM 2335_z: Kapa. Fragile. Beige with red and black designs. 20. BPBM 2347: Kapa moe [sleeping kapa], kilohana [the outer decorated sheet of kapa in bed coverings], 5 dark-brown striped with black [māmaki (Pipturus spp.)]. 7¾ x 11¼ ft.7 21. BPBM 2355: Kapa moe. Beige with black zig-zag design. 22. BPBM 2356: Kapa moe, kilohana salmon-color with red and black stripes, 1 white, 1 figured, 1 white. 8 x 9¼ ft. 23. BPBM 2357: Kapa moe, kilohana palenanahu puahala [pink with dark gray stripes], 4 white. 6½ x 8 ½ ft. 24. BPBM: 2358: Kapa moe, kilohana paiula [bark cloth made by beating pieces of red cotton or bark cloth with plain bark cloth], striped, 2 grey. 6½ x 8¾ ft. 25. BPBM 2359: Kapa moe, kilohana ulaula keokeo [white with red stripes], 1 grey, 3 white. 6½ x 8½ ft. 26. BPBM 2360: Kapa moe, kilohana red with blue stripes, 1 white, 1 red, 2 white. 7⅓ x 9 ft. 27. BPBM 2396: Kapa mahunalii. 2⅔ x 4¼ ft. [Described by Brigham (1903, 93) as a delicate pink mahunalii. Nākuina’s catalogue (12) includes a similar description: “Mahuna. A dyed kapa of olden times of a pinkish orange color. A favorite article of wear for paus of [chiefesses] in the olden times. It has a slight but permanent perfume derived from some of the ingredients used in dyeing.”]8 28. BPBM 2397: Kapa niho me ka haukeuke. Kauai. 2⅓ x 7 ft. [Published in Brigham 1911, Plate F1, with the following caption: “A much faded specimen originally with a bright pink lining and black stamps of niho me ke haukeuke.”] 29. BPBM 2398: Kapa pea [cross-shape] palau [wrapper], yellow with red and black figures. 2¼ x 6 ft. [Brigham (1903, 93) writes that this kapa “seems to be a good imitation of French prints of the second quarter of the last century.”]



Catalogue

30. BPBM 2425: Kapa moe, kilohana paiula, 2 white. 7 x 9¾ ft. 31. BPBM 2430: Kapa moe, kilohana paikukui, 2 olena [tumeric, yellow dye]. 7⅓ x 9 ft. 32. BPBM 2433: Kapa kihei [cape], olena nanahu [charcoal, black dye], figured. 5½ x 6½ ft.9 33. BPBM 2434: Kapa moe olena nanahu kakau [print]. 7 x 8 ft. [Published in Brigham 1911, Plate M3.] 34. BPBM 2435: Kapa moe kilohana puahala kakau [beige with red and black designs]. 6½ x 7½ ft. [Published in Brigham 1911, Plate L1, with the following caption: “Very old and thin kihei or pā‘ū.”] 35. BPBM 2436: Kapa moe kilohana pualima. 7¾ x 10 ft. 36. BPBM 2437: Kapa moe olena kakau. 3 x 8 ft. 37. BPBM 2447: [Kapa moe, kilohana. Faded yellow with black zigzag stripes and red stamp design. Label reads, “hili me ka nanahu.”] 38. BPBM 2448: Kapa moe, kihei, red and green figures. [Label reads, “Kilohana akuleha.”] 5 x 5 ft. 39. BPBM 2454: Kapa moe paiula. 3 x 15 ft. 40. BPBM 2458: Kapa moe, kilohana paiula, palenanahu, puahala, kakau, 4 white. 6 x 8 ft.10 41. BPBM 2461: Kapa mahuna. 6⅔ x 8¼ ft. 42. 2470: Kapa. [Pā‘ū (skirt). Thick, gray with black and red stamped designs in bent-knee pattern.] 43. BPBM 2479: Kapa keokeo maoli [bleached muslin of good quality]. 5 x 7 ft. 44. BPBM 2480: Kapa moe, kilohana paiula [pink], very old. 3½ x 10 ft. 45. Muumuu. A gown made of kapa and one of the first efforts to fashion native cloth into gowns as used by foreigners (Nākuina, 11). 46. BPBM 2487: Kapa holoku or dress, thick, ruled pattern. [“Muumuu. A kapa cloth gown. First attempt to make gowns out of native cloth after the foreign fashions under the teaching of the missionary ladies” (Nākuina, 7).11 Published in Kooijman 1972, Fig. 85, and Brigham 1911, Plate C4, with the following caption: “Portion of a holoku ruled first in red, then in black.”] 47. BPBM 2505: Kapa moe haimanawa. 3 x 9½ ft. [“Haimanawa. A thin kapa of white with rows of fine stripes in black or pink. The black pigments are generally from charcoal or soot and also the mixed juice of the kukui or candle nut tree. The reds of different shades from red ochre, and mixed with the juice of different herbs to produce different shades, yellow shades from Tumeric and the green from the root bark of the Uao, a Hibiscus” (Nākuina, 12). Published in Brigham 1911, Plate K1; Kooijman 1972, Fig. 78.] 48. BPBM 2506: Kapa keokeo [white, bleached] kapalapala [print] alaea [red ochre coloring]. 5½ x 7 ft. 49. BPBM 2514: Kapa paiula. 4⅔ x 6⅔ ft. 50. BPBM 2530: Kapa olena, much faded. 3¼ x 3½ ft. 51. BPBM 2604: Kapa moe, kilohana red and grey, 2 white. 7⅓ x 9 ft. 52. BPBM 2605: Kapa moe, 4 sheets ouholowai [māmaki kapa]. 7 x 8½ ft. 53. BPBM 2633: Kapa moe, [māmaki,] old. [Dark brown with black.] 6½ x 11 ft.

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54. BPBM 2634: Kapa mahuna olena. 4¾ x 9 ft. 55. BPBM 2635: Kapa kea [off-white]. 8 x 8 ft. 56. BPBM 2638: Kapa moe, kilohana, paiula, 1 olena, stiff. 4¼ x 7 ft. 57. BPBM 2649: Kapa mao [green]. Green, medicine. 5½ x 1 ft. 58. BPBM 2677: Kapa pa‘u mahuna paikukui12 palapalaia. 4 x 10 ft. 59. BPBM 2771: Kapa fragment. 60. BPBM 2772: Kapa ribbons. 61. BPBM 2777: Kapa kapalapala. 2¾ x 11½ ft. [Published in Brigham 1911, Plate V1.] 62. BPBM 2953: Siapo, leathery, red painted, black vine. Hawaiian? 3 x 3½ ft.13 63. BPBM 4494. Coconut filled with roasted kukui nuts [(candlenut, Aleurites moluccana)] for kapa dye.

C. Na Moena [mats] 64. Mat, Niihau, plain fig. [Identified in Hitchcock’s ca. 1875 catalogue.] 65. Moena-pakea. Rush mat made entirely of the same rushes as those of the groundwork of the former, but woven in different patterns. They are made of the Makaloa rush (Nākuina, 13). 66. Moena Makaloa. Mat of fine rushes. The letters of the alphabet are outlined in weaving by using the reddish brown stem of another species of rush (Nākuina, 13).14 67. BPBM 2570: Moena Niihau, pawehe, lettered. 6 x 7 ft. [Known as the “Protest Mat,” this was woven by Kalaiikamalino of Ni‘ihau as a petition intended for King Lunalilo but received by Kalākaua after Lunalilo’s death.]15

Part II. Hawai‘i: Household Implements, Tools, Amusements, War, Worship, Ornaments, Medicine, Fisheries and Canoes, Relics of Chiefs (Measurements: circumference x height) A. Household Implements i. Wood ‘Umeke [bowls] 68. Umeke nihoniho. Poi calabash of kou wood. Carved in the shape of a bell flower[,] a favorite pattern for the dishes of the children of [chiefs] (Nākuina, 8). [Published in Jenkins 1989, 41.]16 69. Large wooden calabash. Used to contain cooked human flesh [that] was to be used as shark bait. Formerly when two rival [chieftains] were at war, the victor after a battle would sometimes order the slain of the conquered to be cooked in immense imus or underground ovens. The victorious party using the cooked flesh to serve as bait to attract the largest and fiercest sharks which they hunted for sport, there being no wild animals ashore, to keep up their spirit of courageous-daring, and also, as by so using the slain such an act tended to further humiliate the survivors and relatives of the foe (Nākuina, 17). 70. BPBM 416: Umeke kou wood. 70 x 9½ in. 71. BPBM 422: Umeke poi, coconut wood. Large. 58½ x 12 in. [Published in Brigham 1903, 70.]



Catalogue

72. Umeke paka.17 A flat-wooden poi dish. A form much affected by persons of wealth, as the wide opening would indicate unbounded hospitality on the [owner’s] part (Nākuina 8). 73. Umeke opaka. Poi bowl of kou wood carved in facets (Nākuina 8).18 74. BPBM 1049: Umeke poi, kou; corrugated. Horizontal ridge. [Design said to be royal.] 23 x 14¼ in. 75. BPBM 1050: Umeke poi, kou; corrugated. [Design said to be royal.] 20 x 18¼ in. 76. BPBM 1051: Umeke bowl. 77. BPBM 1054: Umeke kou, polished. [? x] 4 in. 78. BPBM 1055: Umeke kou, polished. [? x] 3¾ in. 79. BPBM 1143: Umeke poi, laau, very old.19 [Published in Rose 1980b, no. 121.] ii. Na Ipu Holoi Lima [finger bowls] 80. BPBM 4002: Ipu holoi lima, kou. [“Pa-holoi-lima. Wooden finger bowls. Hawaiian etiquette is very strict in the matter of always washing the hands in a finger bowl passed for the purpose, before and after eating. Ferns, maile and other scented leaves were generally put in the bowls passed to [chiefs]” (Nākuina, 9).] iii. Na Pā [dishes] 81. Pa-laau. A wooden platter. Made of hau wood (Hibiscus [tiliaceus]) and used to hold meats at table and to be eaten from, ipukais generally holding meat that is to be put away (Nākuina, 11). 82. Ipukai. A wooden meat dish. Used to contain pork, dog flesh, chicken or fish, and distinct from a poi dish which is used only for the different varieties of poi, which answers to the bread or breadstuffs of foreigners (Nākuina, 11).20 83. Ipukai (coconut), large. [Identified in Honolulu Library Association 1882.] 84. Ipukai (coconut), with tooth of Chief. [Identified in Honolulu Library Association 1882.] 85. BPBM 4008: Pa kou, circular. 86. BPBM 5346: Pa kou much decayed. Diam. 5¼ in. 87. BPBM B.588: [Pā. Gourd platter.] 88. BPBM B.589: [Pā. Gourd platter. Marked “K.N.”] iv. Gourd ‘Umeke 89. Hano paka. Gourd tobacco container (Nākuina 5). 90. BPBM 1067: Umeke pawehe [decorated gourd]. 91. BPBM 3923: Umeke, plain, cover and koko [carrying net]. [Published in Jenkins 1989, 100–101, 191.] 92. BPBM 3924: Umeke, plain. 93. BPBM 3925: Umeke, plain, ipu [bottle gourd], cover and koko. v. Huewai [gourd water bottles] 94. BPBM 1094: Huewai [gourd water bottle], long neck. Height 17 in. 95. BPBM 1100: Huewai, short thick neck. 11½ in. x 8½ in.

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96. BPBM 1128: Huewai pawehe, decorated. Koko [carrying net], long. [“Huewai-pawehe. Printed water gourd. This gourd is printed by having the patterns scratched on while the gourd is green and removing the skin from the figures[,] it being left on what would be the groundwork. When the seed is ripe, it is pierced and the seeds removed[;] it is then filled with a staining fluid which is allowed to remain in it till the stain penetrates to the surface, which makes the exposed surface very dark. When sufficiently stained the rest of the skin is removed, when the surface thus exposed is found of a much lighter color and the figures are permanent. Poi gourds or calabashes, meat gourds and bathing gourds were also printed, the patterns very often being intricate and beautiful, and some times exactly like patterns on East Indian pottery. This specimen is about the simplest pattern used and is called children’s [or beginners’] work” (Nākuina, 16).] 97. BPBM 1134: Huewai pawehe. Badly cracked. From Mrs. Beckley. 12 in. x 9½ in. 98. BPBM 3929: Huewai with koko. 99. BPBM 3933: Huewai with koko. 100. BPBM 3939: Huewai. 101. BPBM 3936: Huewai, short neck. 102. BPBM 3940: Huewai with koko. 103. BPBM 3941: Huewai, mua [bottle]. 104. BPBM 3947: Huewai, side orifice. 105. BPBM 3946: Huewai, pueo [bottle]. vi. Gourd Containers (for Clothing and Kapa) 106. BPBM 1141: Ipu hokeo pawehe [a container for clothes], very thick, curious lid. 107. BPBM 1409: Hinai poepoe [ipus or sometimes wooden umekes over which was a fine, strong net of ieie root fibers], no gourd, oblate spheroid. For clothes. 108. BPBM 3949: Ipu hokeo [container for clothing]. [“Hinai Hokeo. Basket-covered gourds. Used for containing clothes, feather work, hair work, ivory and other valuable property of the natives of the olden times. A netting was generally woven into them so that by pulling drawing strings the top was securely fastened on by the netting, through which a spear handle was thrust when travelling or a rope inserted and slung to the rafters of the house when at home” (Nākuina, 16–17).] 109. Hulilau [container for clothes]. [Identified in Honolulu Library Association 1882.] 110. BPBM 3955: Ipu [container, large, pear-shaped]. 111. BPBM 3990: [Ipu, container and cover.] vii. Na Ipu ‘Aina [refuse containers]21 112. Ipu aina, kou, many teeth inserted. 19¾ x 3 in. 113. BPBM 637: Ipu aina, kou, one tooth inserted. 19¾ x 4¼ in. [Published in Brigham 1903, 8, Fig. 92.] 114. BPBM 1056: Ipu aina with handle cracked. viii. Ipu Kuha [refuse containers] –– Wooden spittoons. Common shapes (Nākuina, 9).22



Catalogue

115. BPBM 3997: Ipu mimi [urine] [with bone]. 9 x 6 ½ in. [Published in Jenkins 1989, 55.]23 116–117. BPBM 3998–3999: Ipu mimi. 118. BPBM 4000: Ipu kuha [saliva] [kou?], burial cave.24 119–121. Ipu kuha, 3 specimens. [Identified in Honolulu Library Association 1882.] ix. Coconut Bowls and Utensils 122. Coconut-shell spoon (Nākuina, 5). 123. BPBM 4190: [Bowl, poi. Coconut shell.] 124. BPBM 4234: Ooma pu niu. Coconut ladle, with handle. S. Kona, Hawaii. –– Kano-Awa. Awa bowls. Made of [coconut] shells split [lengthwise] and used for drinking the pounded or chewed awa[,] which is then strained through [coconut] fibres. One coconut cupful is the usual dose. The Awa [Piper methysticum] is the Hawaiian Ambrosia or food of the Gods (Nākuina, 5).25 125. BPBM 4253: Bowl made of the Seychelles or twin coconut. 11 x 7¼ in. 126. BPBM 4254: Bowl made of the Seychelles or twin coconut. 12 x 7 in. –– Kano awa. Coconut Awa bowls. Used to contain the prepared Awa juice offered to gods (Nākuina, 11).26 127. BPBM 4271: Olo awa, awa cup, light. 128. BPBM 4272: Olo awa, dark. 129. BPBM 4276: Ooma pu niu, with handle. S. Kona, Hawaii. 130. BPBM 4289: Pa inamona [sauce dish], fancy, coconut basket. 131. BPBM 5347: Olo awa, coconut cup. x. Mortars 132. BPBM 1227: Ipu kui [small mortar or trough], stone, large, shapeless. 15 x 7½ in.27 133. BPBM B.568: Poho ‘inamona. [“Ipu-inamona. Mortar for kukui nuts. The nuts are first roasted then crushed and mixed with salt or octopus liver, and are used either as a condiment or as a fish bait” (Nākuina, 4).] xi. Pōhaku Ku‘i Poi [poi pounders] 134. BPBM 4080: Pohaku kui poi. [“Pohaku-kuipoi. Poi pestle. Used to pound the cooked and peeled kalo root. In the process of pounding, water is added, a little at a time, till the whole becomes a smooth thick paste without the smallest lumps” (Nākuina, 9).] 135. BPBM 4118: Pohaku kui puka, ring-shaped. [From Kaua‘i.] 136. BPBM B-4450: [Poi pounder, ring-shaped.] 137. Pohaku kui ai palaoa. [Identified in Honolulu Library Association 1882.] xii. Fire-sticks 138. BPBM 1160: Fire-sticks. 15½ in. xiii. Door Stones 139. BPBM 4077: Pohaku pepehi [or pepehe] kanaka. Door stone.

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xiv. Uluna [pillows] 140. BPBM 1149: Uluna. 4½ (w) x 4 (h) x 10 ½ (l) in. [“Uluna Lauhala. Model of ancient pillow. Made of Pandanus leaves. These or blocks of wood were the pillows of ancient Hawaiians” (Nākuina, 6).] xv. Back Rubbers for Lomilomi [massage] –– Laaulomi. Lomilomi stick. A bent stick used to press the back in place of the hand lomi. It was more often used by the large elderly [chiefs] (Nākuina, 2).28 141. BPBM 1163: Laau lomilomi kua, kou. Large, smooth, well made and shaped. 142–143. BPBM 1176–1177: Laau lomilomi kua. xvi. Lighting Implements –– Poho Pohaku. A stone mortar. Used for pounding kukui nuts and for mixing the same with the liver of the Octopus to be used as fish bait or for a condiment. In recent years used as a tallow lamp by the natives. A twisted cloth or kapa wick is placed in the middle and tallow is piled around it till full[,] the lighted wick serving to melt the tallow (Nākuina, 18).29 144. BPBM 1189: Poho kukui [stone lamp], dumb-bell shape. 7 in. (h) 145. BPBM 1228: Poho kukui, small base, large top. 2¼ in. (h) 146. BPBM 1232: Poho kukui, found in 1880 at Kulookehua Plains, Oahu, 5 feet below the surface. Presented by Cecil Brown, Esq. xvii. Ipu Baka [tobacco pipes] 147. Pipe from a root found on the top of [Mauna Kea]. [Received from ‘Iolani Palace. Identified in the 1874 source.]30 148. BPBM 1154: Ipu baka. Long, thin bowl. 11½ in. 149. BPBM 4321: Ipu baka, guava. 150. BPBM 4322: Ipu baka, tree wart. xviii. Mirrors 151. BPBM 1350: Kilo pohaku [stone mirror]. 3 in. xix. Netting 152. BPBM 4368: Koko puupuu. Waoke and niu wound mesh. [“Kokopuupuu. Knotted net. Bag nets to make secure calabash and cover. The knotted nets were only used on the calabash of [chiefs], the commoners [using] the simple mesh nets to secure their calabashes” (Nākuina, 2).]31 153. BPBM 4443: Koko puupuu; aha, coconut. 154. BPBM 4454: [Carrying net.] B. Tools 155. BPBM 735: Laau kahi olona [strip of wood on which to scrape olona fiber], notched beneath. –– Two ancient Puna balls to clean the fish hooks and the Human teeth round the Spittoon. [Received from ‘Iolani Palace. Identified in the 1874 source.]32



Catalogue

156. BPBM 3010: Pohaku oio anai [fine polishing stone]. 157. BPBM 3026: Pohaku oio anai. 158. Koi iwi. Bone Axes. Made from the vertebrae of the whale. Used in smoothing off the roughness left by the stone adze (Nākuina, 3). 159. Twenty-two stone adzes, one small stone implement from Nu‘uanu, and one ancient stone hatchet. [Identified in Hitchcock’s ca. 1875 report.]33 160. BPBM 3106: Koi [adze] kalae. [Iron, wood. 55.9 cm L.] [Adze with handle (Nākuina, 6).] –– Koi pahoa [adze head]. Stone adzes. Large and small stone adzes of the ancient Hawaiians. These fastened onto a branch having a natural crook or bend suitable for the most effective handling of the implement, was about the only wood-cutting instrument of Hawaiians before the advent of foreigners, no metals being found in the Islands. They were also used in chiseling on stone images, maikas, poi mallets, etc. With the larger ones they felled large trees and carved their immense canoes. The latter were sixty to a hundred feet in length and from 8 to 20 ft. in depth of hold. With the smaller adzes, they carved the beautifully made and finished wooden bowls, ivory ornaments, [coconut] rings, kukui rings, wrist ornaments, etc. (Nākuina, 2–3).34 161. BPBM 3136A: Koi pahoa, long, narrow; found in a cave. 162. BPBM 3136B: [Plaster mold of BPBM 3136A.] 163. BPBM 3137: Koi pahoa, broad, flat. 164. BPBM 3138: Koi pahoa, very blunt. 165. BPBM 3139: Koi pahoa, rough. 166. BPBM 3150: Koi pahoa, large. 167. BPBM 3151: [Koi pahoa, large, rough.] 168. BPBM 3152: Koi pahoa, large. 169. BPBM 3200: Koi pahoa, unfinished. 170. BPBM 4029: Koi pahoa, large, flat, broken. 171–175. BPBM 4530–4534: Uhi kahiolona papaua. [Scrapers] for olona. 176. BPBM 4604: Koi pahoa, thick, blunt edge. 177–179. BPBM 5303–5305: [Koi pahoa, small.] 180–181. BPBM 5306–5307: [Koi pahoa, black, unfinished.] 182. BPBM 5308: [Koi pahoa, small.] 183. BPBM 5309: [Koi pahoa, black, unfinished.] 184–185. BPBM B.569–570: [Scrapers for olona. Pearl shell.] C. Amusements i. Games and Sports 186. BPBM 320: Papa holua said to have belonged to the hero Lonoikamakahiki. [“Holua of Lonoikamakahiki. A sled for coasting down hillsides. This was a favorite pastime for the young men of the olden times. In fact, it was a point of honor with those of good birth to excel in all such athletic games, which required them to be always in perfect physical condition, and thus, always available for soldiers in case of war. Holua ways were regularly laid out and [were] an important feature of every district affording facilities for them.

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Catalogue

The mode of using the Holua was by the rider holding the two light beams above the runners with both hands and taking a little run on the brow of the hill, and thus having acquired a little momentum, he throws himself with Holua down on the track and slides down. He [lies] face downward on the hinder half of the Holua, his arms and body extended and rigid, the feet projecting behind, a touch of the toe now and then serving to steer by. On a track of any distance the Holua would insensibly acquire lightning speed. It was a very dangerous game and could be only practiced on the longer routes by trained athletes. Holua routes were from a quarter mile to 2 and 4 miles in length” (Nākuina, 1).]35 187. BPBM 321: Papa holua, runners only. [“Runners of an old sled” (Nākuina, 1).] 188. BPBM 867: Papamu for Konane, wood, very old and worm-eaten. [“Papa-konane. Hawaiian checkerboard. Used by the old [chiefs] to play the game of konane, something between the game of checkers and chess. Black and white pebbles were used for the men. This board is a portable form and chicken bones are set in the wood to mark [off] the squares[,] but the usual konane board was a large flat stone marked into squares. Stone of different color was worked into every alternate square. The two stones used being generally basalt or limestone” (Nākuina, 15).]36 189. BPBM 886: Palaie. Ring and Ball. Hawaiian “Cup and Ball.”37 190. BPBM 947: Moa stick or pahee [spear sliding game]. Game. Wood. 191. [Surf board.] –– Ulumaika. Rolling and throwing stones. Used in the ancient game of the Maika, which consisted in the winner being the one who could throw the farthest in a given direction either in grooves on the ground, or simply thrown in the air in a given direction, the after rolling being taken into account (Nākuina, 3).38 192–193. BPBM 4661–4662: Ulumaika, coral. 194–195. BPBM 4671–4672: Ulumaika, lava. 196. BPBM 4677: Ulumaika, lava. 197. BPBM 4865: Moa pahee [large sliding spear], kauila wood. 198. BPBM 5290: [Ulumaika, coral.] 199–200. BPBM 5291–5292: [Ulumaika, lava.] 201–203. BPBM 5293–5295: [Ulumaika, stone.] 204. BPBM 5296: [Ulumaika, limestone. Charred.] 205–206. BPBM 5297–5298: [Ulumaika, stone.] 207. BPBM 5299: [Ulumaika, stone. Small.] 208–210. BPBM 5300–5302: [Ulumaika, stone.] 211. BPBM B.553: [Ulumaika, stone.] ii. Drums and Musical Instruments↜39 212. Pahu kaeke. Small hula drums. Used in the Hula Pahu, Alaapapa, and Hula Kalaau and Kieki. These were among the most ancient dances. They have now fallen into disuse (Nākuina, 18).40 213. BMBP 860: Pahu hula. Carved wood, small. [See Fig. 37 this volume and Kaeppler 1980, Fig. 44.] 214. BPBM 861: Pahu hula. Carved wood, small. [See Fig. 37 this volume and Kaeppler 1980, Fig. 42.] 215. BPBM 862: Pahu hula. Carved wood, small. [Published in Kaeppler 1980, Fig. 43.]



Catalogue

216. BPBM 864: Puniuhula [small knee drum]. Coconut shell drum. [Published in Kaeppler 1980, Fig. 68; Brigham 1903, 85.] 217. BPBM 870: Uliuli hula. Coconut hula rattle. [Published in Rose 1980b, Plate XXI.] 218. BPBM 871: Coconut hula rattle. [Published in Rose 1980b, Plate XXI.] 219. BPBM 872: Uli‘uli hula. Gourd hula rattle. 220. BPBM 877: Ohe hano ihu. Nose flute. Bamboo, 2 holes. Length 15½ in. [“Ohe-ihu. Nose flute of bamboo. Used by putting the upper hole of the flute to one side of the nose and breathing gently into it, the other nostril being closed with one finger. There are usually two or more holes in the flute to be played on as in other flutes” (Nākuina, 4).] 221. BPBM 888: Kupee niho ilio. A single anklet [of dog’s teeth, used in the hula] of poor quality. 222. BPBM 889: Pahu hula. A cylinder of some light wood with skin heads fastened with hoops at each end. A poor imitation of a foreign drum. 223. BPBM 893: Ipu heke. Hula drum. 224. BPBM 949: Hula ka laau. Kauila sticks for beating time in the dance so-called. 225. BPBM 951: Hokiokio [lover’s whistle]. Gourd pierced with 2 to 6 holes. [“Ipu hokiokio. Musical gourd. To be played on as a flute” (Nākuina, 4).] 226. BPBM 4041: Pahu hula of gourds. 227. BPBM 4843: [Ipu heke. Hula drum. Gourd with yellow cloth handle.] 228. BPBM 4849: Pahu hula. [Breadfruit wood, sharkskin, coconut fiber, olonā fiber, bark cloth. See Fig. 37 this volume; Kaeppler 1980, Fig. 16; Rose 1980b, no. 147.]41 229. BPBM 4850: Pahu hula. Coconut hula drum. [Published in Kaeppler 1980, Fig. 31.] 230. [Pahu. Wood, skin. 17 ½ x 15 in. National Museum of Natural History, Smithsonian Institution, Washington, D.C., 93,607. Published in Kaeppler 1980, Fig. 26.]42 231. BPBM 4854: Niau kani. Hawaiian [Jew’s harp]. [Wood, tortoise shell, cordage.] 232. BPBM 10,086: [Puili. Bamboo rattle.] 233. BPBM B.579: [Ohe ka‘eke (bamboo pipes).] 234. BPBM B.7778: Ukeke. Hawaiian guitar. It is used by placing one end of the sounding board in the mouth and aspirating the words of a song against the board while the strings are being struck by a small flexible twig of the size of a darning needle. The thumb, first, second, and third fingers of the left hand are held alternately against the strings to mark time, or to decrease the volume of sound (Nākuina, 4). D. Implements of War 235–236. War Conch, 2 large, plain. [Received from ‘Iolani Palace. Identified by Hitchcock ca. 1875.] 237. BPBM 819: Pololu kauila [spear], octahedral butt. 238. BPBM 824: Pololu kauila, square base, long and heavy. 239. BPBM 4791: Piikoi [short, heavy club,], wood with braided cord. Used in the lua to entangle the legs of an antagonist. 240. Ancient Stone War Missile. [Identified by Hitchcock ca. 1875.] 241. BPBM 4820: Maa [sling], pohaku [stone]. [“Pohaku maa. Sling stones” (Nākuina, 5); “Sling stone, Ancient Hawaiian” (Hitchcock ca. 1875).] 242. BPBM 4821: Maa, clay.

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E. Worship 243. Photographs of ancient Hawaiian idols carried away and now in the Boston Museum (Nākuina, 5).43 244. Huewai-pueo. A bulbous necked gourd. Used sometimes as a drinking vessel for common use, and more frequently used by devotees of the Owl God, in their rites, thus the name “Owl’s Gourd.” The body of the gourd [is] cut off and nearly filled with seeds or pebbles and attached to a wicker disk covered with feathers, [and they] are used as hula instruments (Nākuina, 16). 245. Umeke waiho ai a ke Akua. Food container of the gods (Nākuina, 17). 246. Small stone idol. Found in a cave on Molokai. Most likely a household god, or one used by a company of [artisans], or members of certain crafts such as the canoe makers etc. In olden times anyone wishing to learn any of the trades or crafts had to undergo a period of initiation or apprenticeship under the auspices of the particular god of such a craft (Nākuina, 3–4).44 247. BPBM 1363: [Standing ‘aumakua image of kauila wood, male.] 22¼ in. high.45 [Published in Cox and Davenport 1988, 165, Fig. A17; Rose 1980b, Plate VI.] 248. BPBM 1366: Akua pohaku. Stone image in the attitude of prayer. 7 in. 249. BPBM 4053: Kahakahi. Owl-god. A dark green stone, beach-worn. [Published in Rose 1980b, no. 36.] 250. BPBM 4068: Akua of wood, much injured by fire and decay; found in a dam in Kauai. It was one of the images on the outer wall of the heiau. [“Log of Manokalanipo. The ancestral god of the Kauai Kings, and formerly revered as the visible representation of the spirit of a King of Kauai of that name, who became deified, and was the progenitor of Kauai Kings, thus Kauai in Hawaiian poetry is always [referred] to as Kauai-o-Mano Kalanipo” (Nākuina, 17). Published in Cox and Davenport 1988, 128, Fig. T19; Brigham 1903, 77.] 251. BPBM 4911: Akua mano: shark god, much decayed. [Wood.] 252. Kaili, wooden idol, the famous war-god carried by Kamehameha I through his battles. [Identified in Honolulu Library Association 1882.] F. Ornaments 253. [Shell cincture. H. M. the King.] 254. 13 Bunches of Human Hair dyed red in alaea. [Received from ‘Iolani Palace. Identified in the 1874 and ca.1875 sources; absent from Nākuina’s and the Bishop Museum’s 1892–1893 inventory.] 255. Bracelets, pair of. [Received from ‘Iolani Palace. Identified in Hitchcock’s report.] 256. Kupee-Ea. Turtle shell bracelets and finger rings (Nākuina, 6). 257. Kupee palaoa. Ivory clasp for wristlet. It was secured with strand of Olona or [Ua?] on which were strung ivory beads or shell of the Neritisia or Natiea (Nākuina, 7). 258. Lei Palaoa with human hair and bone. [Received from ‘Iolani Palace.]46 259. Lei Palaoa with human bones. [Received from ‘Iolani Palace.]47 260. Lei palaoa. Necklet of braided human hair with hook of walrus teeth (Nākuina, 7). 261. Lei palaoa. Ivory hook. Pendant ornament to necklet of human hair. An emblem of [chieftainship] in the olden times. The ivory hook is from Walrus tusks[,] which were occasionally found here in former times (Nākuina, 5–6).



Catalogue

262. Lei pupu palaoa. Necklet of ivory beads and hook. Worn by a chiefess as a badge of high rank (Nākuina, 7).48 263. BPBM 1268: Lei palaoa. Necklace of whale’s ivory, 16 polyhedral beads. 264. BPBM 1277: Lei palaoa, 5 fusiform whale ivory beads and red glass beads. Time of Vancouver. 265. BPBM 1287: Niho palaoa. Ivory pendant, very large, of elephant ivory. [Published in Rose 1980b, Plate XL.] 266. BPBM 1310: Lei niho palaoa. 267. BPBM 1345: Lei pupu, Columbella shells. [Lei niihau. Published in Brigham 1903, Fig. 80.] 268. BPBM 2280: Lei of the seeds of Coix lachryma [(Job’s tears)] and glass beads. 269. BPBM 7556: [Ball of hair, for use in lei palaoa?] 270. BPBM B.583: [Hair braid, niho palaoa.] 271. BPBM B.584: [Hatband. Fern, bark, cordage.] 272–274. Lei Niho Puaa (hog’s tooth necklace), 3 specimens. [Identified in Honolulu Library Association, 1882.] G. Dress 275. BPBM 4010: [Hatblock, wood.] 276. BPBM 4765: Kookoo, hala wood. 277. BPBM 5006: Nightstick. Wood.49 278. BPBM 5040: Papale [hat]. Pua, sugar-cane blossom stem, lei of corn husks. 279. BPBM 5107a, 5107b: Kamaa waoke. Sandals. 280. BPBM B.574: [Leather sandals, pair.] 281. BPBM B.575a–b: [Leaf sandals, pair.] H. Medicine 282. Pohaku palaoa. Ivory pestle. To pound the herbs used in medicine[,] the old Hawaiians having a [belief] that ivory had the power of imparting strength to the herbs which came in contact with it (Nākuina, 8).50 283. BPBM 4978: Ipu hano. Gourd syringe. [“Ipu hahano. Syringe gourd. Used for injections” (Nākuina, 5).] 284. BPBM 4993: Laau [plant] lapaau [medicinal]. Akia manalo, Wikstroemia foetida. 285. BPBM 4994: Laau lapaau. Ohia ai, Eugenia malaccensis. 286. BPBM 4995: Laau lapaau. Uhaloa, Waltheria americana. 287. BPBM 4996: Laau lapaau. Pamakani, Phyllanthus sandwicensis. 288. BPBM 4997: Laau lapaau. Kaunoa pehu, Cassytha filiformis. 289. BPBM 4998: Laau lapaau. Alaalawainui, Peperomia sp. 290. BPBM 4999: Laau lapaau. Kokoolau, Campylotheca sp. 291. BPBM 5000: Laau lapaau. Hinahina. 292. BPBM 5001: Laau lapaau. Awikiwiki, Canavalia galeata. 293. BPBM 5002: Laau lapaau. 294. BPBM 5003: Laau lapaau. Maunaloa, Dioclea violacea. 295. BPBM 5004: Laau lapaau. Kalaipahoa. [“Pieces of Kalaipahoa wood. The sacred wood

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Catalogue

supposed to be [possessed] of supernatural powers in the times of the first Kamehameha. It was believed to be the visible form of the god Kalaipahoa. There were two varieties of the wood[,] the sweet or innocuous kind and used as a medicine, and the poisonous kind” (Nākuina, 6).] 296. BPBM 5005: Laau lapaau. Kalaipahoa. I. Fisheries and Canoes 297. BPBM 299: Hoe, paddle, kauila wood. Blade 12 1/8 in. x 21 ½ in. 298. BPBM 300: Hoe, paddle, kauila wood. Blade 12 1/8 in. 299. BPBM 309: Hoe, paddle, koa, old and mended. 300. BPBM 770: Kao [javelin] or fish spear. Four iron prongs. 301. “Shark hooks, 6 large, bone.” [Received from ‘Iolani Place. Identified in the 1874 source and Hitchcock’s ca. 1875 report.] 302. BPBM 777: Makau mano, Kiholo. A very large hook of wood, always baited with human flesh. For shark fishing. [Makau mano are often made of wood and pointed with bone.]51 303. BPBM 799: Pa hi aku [bonito hook]. Shell hook. 304. BPBM 2097: Hoe, paddle. Wood with fiber wrapping on handle. 305. BPBM 3659: Makau ia hapuupuu [hook for young grouper].52 306. BPBM 6925: Makau [fishhook]. Two fish hooks tipped with human bone. The crooked one of Aalii root is called Manaia Kalani and is famous in Hawaiian legendary history as the hook with which Maui in fishing caught the strands which held the different islands of the Pacific in place and attempted to draw them together to make a continent (Nākuina, 6). [Published in Ka ‘Elele, Journal of Bishop Museum, Spring 2006, 12.] 307. BPBM 3740: Pearl-shell [and bone] shanks for pa hi aku. [Lure for trolling.] 308. BPBM 3792: Makau kakala hoolou honu, iron hook for turtle. 309. BPBM 3792_z: [Sinker, breadloaf. Stone.] 310. BPBM 3809: Makau lu hee [squid hook], bits of shell, no hook. [“Leho-luluhee. Cowry bait for Octopus. The Mauritiana cowry attached to a stone sinker hook and line was the bait used in deep sea Octopus fishing” (Nākuina, 4). “2 large bone squid hooks” are idenitifed in the 1874 source. See BPBM 5278.53] 311. BPBM 3856a: Ipu le‘i, kou. [Container to store lines and hooks. A thick wooden bowl with larger gourd cover.] 312. BPBM 3856b: Gourd cover. 313–316. BPBM 3857–3860: Ipu le‘i, kou. 317. BPBM 3873a: Poho aho [gourd to hold fishhooks]. 318. BPBM 3873b: Gourd cover. 319. BPBM 3874a: Poho aho. 320. BPBM 3874b: Gourd cover. 321. BPBM 3876: Poho aho, small. 322–323. BPBM 3877–3878: Ipu olowai. Fisher’s water gourds. 324. BPBM 3882: Hinai. Basket for fish. 325. BPBM 3885: Aho olona. Fish-line. [“Olona. Bohemeria. The Hawaiian Flax. One of the strongest as well as most durable of known fibres. It is used principally to make fishing



Catalogue

twine lines and nets. Nets made of this fibre . . . still in almost daily use are known to be a hundred years old” (Nākuina, 14).] 326. BPBM 3886: Aho olona. Fish-line, 200 fathoms. 327. BPBM 3887: Hinai. Coarse. 328. BPBM 3904: Poho aho, no cover. 329. BPBM 3906: Rack for fish-poles [ihu waa], two heads carved. 330. BPBM 3994: Ipu le‘i, both parts ipu, small. Kamehameha IV. [Published in Jenkins 1989, 197.] 331. BPBM 5147: [Stone sinker. Small hole through center. Rough, rounded conical shape of porous lava. 9½ in.] 332. BPBM 5273: [Coral sinker.] 333. BPBM 5274: [Stone sinker.] 334. BPBM 5275: [Stone sinker. Kamehameha III.] 335. BPBM 5276: [Stone sinker.] 336. BPBM 5277: [Probably a fishing implement.] 337. BPBM 5278: [Makau lu hee. Hook for squids. 1 cypraea shell, 1 stone sinker, 1 iron hook.] 338. Four large ancient fish hooks, made out of human bone. [Received from ‘Iolani Palace. Identified in the 1874 source.]54 339. Two fishhooks entirely of human bones. The smaller one is Na-iwi-Pae, and was made from the thigh bone of a [chief] called Pae. The ancients believed that the bones of [chiefs] had a strong attraction for fishes (Nākuina, 6). 340. BPBM 5285: Makau iwi kanaka. Human bone hook. [“Makau iwi. Small fishing hook made of human bones” (Nākuina, 5).] 341. BPBM 5287: Pa hi aku [pearl shell and bone]. [“Makau-Pa. Mother of pearl fish hook” (Nākuina, 5).] 342–343. BPBM 5288–5289: Coral sinkers. 344. BPBM 5310: Upena [fishing net], large. 345. BPBM 5312: [Sinker, perforated. Stone. Small hole.] 346. BPBM C.200: [Makau. Shark lure. Shank of a trolling hook. Pearl shell.] J. Relics of Chiefs 347. BPBM 6458: [Kihapu], large War Conch, ornamented with teeth and bones. [Received from ‘Iolani Palace. “Kihapu. A large conch shell. Used in the olden times as a war trumpet, and could be heard a distance of 10 miles. It formed part of the royal heirlooms of Hawaii and was one of the most highly valued ones, as it was supposed to be endowed with supernatural powers. Battles have been fought and won for the possession of this shell. And there is a long and interesting legend in connection with it. The Legend of Pua–pua–lenalena” (Nākuina, 14). 55 Published in Ka ‘Elele, Journal of Bishop Museum, Winter 2006, 12.] 348. BPBM 1910.018.001: Kahai-o-Liloa. The scarf [kā‘ai] of Liloa, one of the ancient paramount kings of Hawaii. A scarf of network on one side of which feathers were knotted and woven. It formed part of the royal regalia of olden times. It is said to be the scarf left by Liloa with Akahiakuleana, and afterwards shown by Umi her son to prove his paternity (Nākuina, 14–15).

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349. BPBM 6926: “Naniuaola. The large drum [pahu heiau, temple drum] of Kamehameha the 1st. The tradition is that it was brought from Kahiki by Laamaikahiki. It was at first kept in a temple dedicated to the Sun[,] which was on the western slopes of Diamond Head and in what is now known as Kapiolani Park. When it fell into the hands of the Great Conqueror, it was by him kept in the Heiau or temple nearest to the place he inhabited and it thus accompanied him from place to place. It was only struck on rare and solemn [occasions], such as on the birth of a son to the King or when War or peace was declared” (Nākuina, 1–2). [See Figs. 37–38 this volume and Kaeppler 1980, Fig. 1.]56 350. Nalukoki [Nanikoki]. The most prized of three necklets, having been used as a badge of office from the earliest chiefs. It was worn by the famous Keeaumoku in the battle of Kaohai, and was the cause of the death of Kiwalao the King, and rival of Kamehameha (Nākuina, 7).57 351. BPBM 959: Mahiole or feather helmet of Kaumualii[,] last King of Kauai. Feathers of the oo and iiwi in perfect order.58 [“Mahiole. Feather Helmet. The last wearer was Kaumualii[,] the last King of Kauai, but it may and in no doubt did belong to his ancestors [for] many [generations] and became his, he inheriting it with the kingly office. Such helmets were always used by chiefs and persons of consequence in the olden times” (Nākuina, 18). Published in Brigham 1899, Plate 1; Holt 1985, 97; Rose 1980b, Plate XXVI.] 352. Umeke Koa o Ulukou. Calabash of cordia wood from Ulukou. The wood from this celebrated grove was much sought after for making dishes, as it was remarkable for the beauty of its markings, in curly or wavy lines. The large calabash was [used] to contain the hard poi (poi pai). [Property of Kamehameha I.] (Nākuina, 7–8). 353. [Two] Small Umeke of Ulukou wood. Used to contain the soft poi, ready to be eaten. They were both the property of Kamehameha (Nākuina, 8). 354. BPBM 1355: Umeke poi used by Kamehameha I when in a canoe. It is of kou, of good form, 10 in. diameter, 19¾ in. height.59 [Published in Brigham 1903, 105; Jenkins 1989, 12; Rose 1980b, no. 99.] 355. BPBM 1356: Ipu holowaa of Kamehameha I. Odd shape, used for fish. [“Ipu [h]olowaa. Double wooden calabash. Used by Kamehameha to contain different condiments or meats when going deep sea fishing” (Nākuina, 8). Published in Brigham 1903, 105; Jenkins 1989, 34.] 356. BPBM 1357: Ipu [h]olowaa of Kamehameha I. Lute-shaped. [Published in Brigham 1903, 105; Jenkins 1989, 34.] 357. BPBM 2290: [Wide bowl, wood, 8 in. high and 15¼ in. across the rim. Belonged to Kamehameha I. This bowl was named “Kapea,” as printed on a label attached to the interior (Jenkins 1989, 11). Published in Jenkins 1989, 12.] 358. BPBM 2291: Umeke poi. [Wide bowl, wood, 8¼ in. high and 15¾ in. across the rim. Belonged to Kamehameha I. This bowl was named “Aia Iluna” (“up there” or “there above”), as printed on a label attached to the bowl (Jenkins 1989, 11). Published in Jenkins 1989, 12.] 359. BPBM 2292: Umeke poi. [Kou wood. Belonged to Kamehameha I. This bowl was named “Aloha Kou” (Jenkins 1989, 11). Published in Jenkins 1989, 13.]



Catalogue

360. BPBM 2293: [Large wood dish. 2¾ in. high and 15⅜ in. across. Belonged to Kamehameha I (Jenkins 1989, 11). Published in Jenkins 1989, 13.] 361. BPBM 2294: [Large wood dish. 2¾ in. high and 14⅞ in. diameter. Belonged to Kamehameha I (Jenkins 1989, 11). Published in Jenkins 1989, 12.] 362. BPBM 2295: [Wood dish, 3 in. high and 12 in. diameter. Belonged to Kamehameha I. Published in Jenkins 1989, 13.] 363. BPBM 2297: Aniani nana. Looking-glass given by Vancouver to Kamehameha I. Enclosed in a native kou frame. 364. BPBM 3898: [Umeke poi possibly used for ‘awa. Koaie wood. Used by Kamehameha I. Published in Jenkins 1989, 12.] 365. BPBM 4004: [Small poi bowl, 7 x 6 ¾ in. across the rim. Belonged to Kamehameha I (Jenkins 1989, 11). Published in Jenkins 1989, 12.] 366. BPBM 4143: Ipu aina. Kou wood and teeth. [“Ipukuha niho kanaka. Wooden spittoons set with human teeth. They were Kamehameha’s and Kaahumanu[‘s]. The teeth were those of persons of consequence who had been killed or had died a natural death, and whose memories the King or Queen wanted to desecrate. They were generally rivals who had been guilty of some low, mean and despicable acts, and the fastening the teeth of such to a spittoon bowl was an illustration to posterity in what estimation such persons should [be] and were held. If, on the contrary, a noble and generous rival fell in fair fight[,] the [memory] of such was sometimes honored by the teeth being struck out and fastened on to a poi or meat calabash, as one of the highest tributes of respect to the particular quality which won the [victor’s] admiration. The eating utensils of a [chief] being as tabu as his person, to set the tooth or teeth of a rival around one of them, was the highest possible honor that could be paid to the memory of a fallen foe” (Nākuina, 9). Published in Jenkins 1989, 53.]60 367. BPBM 4764: Cane used by John Young, the assistant of Kamehameha I. and the grandfather of Queen Emma. [Received from ‘Iolani Palace. Identified in the 1874 and Hitchcock ca. 1875 documents.] 368. BPBM 5007: Palaoa kui. Ivory (elephant) pounder of Kamehameha I. [15 cm H., 9.8 cm D. Published in Rose 1980b, Plate XVIII.] 369. BPBM 5008: Pohaku kui poi. Small stone poi pounder of Kamehameha I. It was carried with the Conqueror wherever he journeyed, that his poi might be prepared with this and no other. Hence its small size. 370. BPBM 5010: [Bowl. Turtle shell, wood, brass pins, sealing wax, pitch. 7⅜ in. high and 7⅝ in. wide (Rose 1980b, 182). “Umeke-Ea. Turtle shell bowl. The medicine bowl of the Great Kamehameha. The bowl when full of the strained juice of the pounded herbs used in medicine in the Hawaiian Materia Medica, held just one dose for Kamehameha” (Nākuina, 8). Published in Brigham 1903, 105; Jenkins 1989, 131; Rose 1980b, Plate XVII.] 371. BPBM 5013: Ulumaika of Mopua [or Kanipahu], a chief of Hana, Maui. [Limestone.] The ulu descended to his son Kalahumoku[,] who was the grandfather of Kalokuokamaile on his mother’s side. From the time of this last chief to 1883[,] the ulu was kept by the family kahus, and it was given to the [Hawaiian National] Museum in 1887 by Mrs. F. S. Pratt.

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372. BPBM 5179: Desk belonging to Governor Mateo Kekuanaoa. 373. BPBM 5180: Cocked hat belonging to H. M. Lunalilo. [Black with white feathers.] 374. BPBM 6927: Ipu aina. [Douglas fir, human teeth, olonā cordage. 5⅝ in. high and 5⅝ in. diameter. Belonged to Kamehameha I (Jenkins 1989, 46). Published in Jenkins 1989, 47; Rose 1980b, no. 112.]61 375. Ipuainako. Sugar cane husk bowl. Used to contain the husks of sugar cane eaten by King Kamehameha. The old natives believed that the leavings of anything eaten by any one constituted the means of a powerful charm for evil to that one, if passed into the hands of an enemy. The leavings or refuse of high [chiefs] are therefore always gathered[,] dried and burnt by their servants. The human teeth set on the outside are those of slain enemies whose memories the King wished dishonored (Nākuina, 18). 376. Koa and kou frame, containing the vote for Sovereign, 1873. Donated by S. G. Wilder. [Identified in Hitchcock, ca. 1875.]62 377. Frame containing the manner in which D. Kalākaua was elected King. [Received from ‘Iolani Palace. Identified in the 1874 source, but absent from Nākuina’s and the Bishop Museum 1892–1893 inventories.] 378. The Box in which the Ballots [were] drawn for the election of a King. [Received from ‘Iolani Palace.]63 K. Miscellaneous 379. BPBM 4236: Small model of grass house, covered with fern. 11 in. x 11 ½ in. [“Halepili. Model of a thatched house of the olden times. These houses were from 6 x 10 ft., to 60 and 100 ft. in length by 25 to 70 in width, with steep sloping roofs. They were comfortable dwellings preserving a very equable temperature” (Nākuina, 15).] 380. BPBM B.563: [Pestle, stone.] 381. BPBM B.591: [Kī‘aha puaniki (goblet or small poi dish). Kou wood.] 382. BPBM B.623: [Spoon. Wood. Hawai‘i?]

Part III: Other Polynesian Islands, New Hebrides, Fiji, Solomon Islands, New Guinea, Micronesia A. Polynesia i. Samoan Islands 383–385. [Drums on pedestal.]64 386. Model, Samoan Canoe. [Identified only in Hitchcock’s report.] 387. BPBM 1891.001.002: [Knife. Metal, wood.] 388. BPBM 1891.001.005: [Awa strainer. Fiber.] 389. BPBM 2100: War club; dentate edge, hooked end. The hook was used to drag away the victims. [Published in Brigham 1903, Fig. 25.] 390–391. BPBM 2107–2108: War clubs; dentate edge, hooked end, pointed. 392. BPBM 2110: War club; serrate both sides; long. 393. BPBM 2111: War club; round, smooth; toa wood. 394. BPBM 2112: War club; round, decorated. 395. BPBM 2120: War club; plain.



Catalogue

396. BPBM 2121: War club; decorated with white filling. 397. BPBM 2123: War club; decorated, short. 398. BPBM 2124: War club; ribbed. 399. BPBM 2125: War club; carved. 400. BPBM 2126: War club. 401. BPBM 2131: War club; carved both sides. 402. BPBM 2151: Tanoa. Diameter, 20 in. Presented by G. E. V. Alvord. 403. BPBM 2162: Fue [fly-flap]. 404. BPBM 2171: Ali [‘ali ofe, pillow of bamboo]. Large. Upolu. 405. BPBM 2190: Tatau, or [tattooing] tools. 406. BPBM 2195: Frontlet of cut nautilus shells. 407. BPBM 2197: Selu or comb. 408–409. BPBM 2198–2199: Selu. 410. BPBM 2972: Upeti or stamp for printing siapos [bark cloths]. 411. BPBM 4015: [Bark cloth] beater.65 412. BPBM 2973: Adze head. Shell. 413. BPBM 3307: Coconut cord, plain, in roll.66 414. BPBM 3560: Mat [for game of lafoga?], ⅔ x 17½ ft. Fala. 415–416. BPBM 3560a–3560b: [Coconut shell cups for game.] 417–421. BPBM 3560c–3560g: [Coconut shell disks to toss on mat.] 422–423. BPBM 3566–3567: Ato [baskets]. 424. BPBM 3571: Ie sina [bed mat]. 2¾ x 5¾ ft. [Made of the bark of an hibiscus; used generally for presents, and prized as a nuptial couch in the curious Samoan custom of ‘Tokens of virginity’ (Bishop Museum 1892–1893: III, 16).] 425. BPBM 3581: Tao or spear.67 426–427. BPBM 3582–3583: Tao. 428. BPBM 3584: War club. 429. BPBM 3585: Model of a Samoan house. 430. BPBM 3752: [Lure, fishing. Shell, plant. Trolling hook with line.] 431. BPBM 5286: [Lure, fishing (trolling hook with line). Shell (turtle, pearl), plant.] 432. BPBM 7516: [Bark cloth beater. Wood.] 433. BPBM 7949: [Basket, square with handle. Brown design. Pandanus, cordage.] 434. BPBM C.939: [Fly whisk. Fiber, wood.] ii. Easter Island [Rapa Nui]68 435. BPBM 5340: Male figure with eyes of bone and obsidian. 22½ in. high. 436. BPBM 5341: Male figure with eyes of bone and obsidian. 19¾ in. high. 437. BPBM 5342: Lizard, carved in wood, with human head. 23 in. long. These were not objects of worship. 438. BPBM 5449: Ring or [headdress] of feathers. 439–443. BPBM 6349–6353: [Pendants, wood.] 444. BPBM 6354: [Small stone image.] 445. BPBM 6355: [Stone sinker, perforated.] 446. BPBM 6356: [Stone plate, broken.]

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Catalogue

447–452. BPBM 6714–6719: [Spear heads, obsidian.] 453. BPBM B.611: [Spear head, obsidian.] 454. BPBM B.3953: [Small, fake image. Stone.] 455. BPBM C.246: [Carved with image of a human face in relief. Stone.]69 iii. Miscellaneous 456–464. [Spears.]70 465. BPBM 3482: Comb cut from a single piece of wood. Tonga Ids.71 466. BPBM 5446: Paddle, finely carved. Mangaia, Hervey Ids. [Top of handle decorated with standing human images. Raivavae, Austral Islands.]72 467. BPBM 5447: Handle of a ceremonial adze, elaborately carved. Cook Islands. 468. BPBM 7546: [Canoe model with feather trim. Marquesas Islands.] 469. BPBM C.932: [Kilt. Fiber, cordage. Ellis Islands, Tuvalu.] B. Melanesia i. New Hebrides [Vanuatu] 470. [Spear with human bone points.]73 471–474. [Spears.] 475. BPBM 1382: War club. Knob at each end. 476–477. BPBM 2089–2090: Baskets. 478–480. BPBM 3477–3479: Cannibal trophies; strings of human teeth evidently of white men. 481. BPBM 4016: Knife of wood for cutting yams, etc. 482. BPBM 6627: [Scarf or apron. Fiber.] 483. BPBM 6662: [Bark cloth, dyed.] 484. BPBM 6662_zzzz: [Belt. Folded pandanus mat.] 485. BPBM B.612: [Idol. Sugar cane.] ii. Fiji or Viti Islands 486. Canoe. Fijian war. [This was identified only in Hitchcock’s ca. 1875 report.] 487. BPBM 1038: Club, knotted. 488. BPBM 1989: Cannibal fork. These implements were kept with the greatest care. 489. BPBM 2028: Masi [bark cloth] used as a turban. 490. BPBM 7517: [Dance skirt. Fiji?] 491. BPBM 7994: [Cannibal fork. Wood.] 492. BPBM C.1131: [Dance belt and skirt? Fiber.] iii. Solomon Islands 493. BPBM 1839: Dance paddle.74 494. BPBM 1840: Idol similar to [BPBM 1834], but with no limbs and a boar’s tusk inserted. 495–496. [Bows.]75 497. BPBM 1891.001.004: [Bow. Wood.] 498. BPBM 1905: Armlet of Gleichenia fibre.



Catalogue

499. BPBM B.614: [Bracelet. Shell.] 500. BPBM B.617: [Section of paddle.] iv. New Britain 501–3. [Spears. Triangularly carved side.]76 504–8. [Spears. Bone point, decorated.]77 5 09–13. [God images.]78 514. [God image, wood.] 515. BPBM 1836: Mask, helmet shaped. 516. BPBM 1838: Mask with human frontal bone. v. New Ireland 517. BPBM 1834: Idol with outstretched arms; made of strips of vegetable matter, covered with palm fibre and painted. 518. BPBM 1835: Idol with no limbs, similar in shape and material to [BPBM 1834]. 519. BPBM 1840: Idol similar to [BPBM 1835], but with a pig’s tusk inserted. 520–521. BPBM B.618–619: [Images. Wood with operculum shell eyes.] 522. BPBM B.620: [Image. Wood. 6 pieces.] 523. BPBM C.1017: [Mask. Rattan, wood. Eye separate (B.586).] vi. Melanesia without More Particular Locality and Miscellaneous 524–525. Spear heads, obsidian, from Admiralty Is. [Identified in Hitchcock’s 1875 Report.] 526. BPBM 1891.001.001: [Paddle, dance. Wood. New Guinea.]79 527. BPBM 1891.001.003: [Axe. Metal, wood.] C. Micronesia i. Caroline Islands 528. BPBM 1891.001: [Model of a house. Wood, leaf, clay? Cordage.] 529. BPBM 1891.001.007: [Canoe paddle with pointed blade. Initials “JFW” painted on blade. Wood.] 530. BPBM 1891.001.008: [Canoe Paddle. Wood. Received by W. T. Brigham.] 531. BPBM 3250: Dress, hau (mat), for women. Ruk [Chuuk]. 19 in. x 3½ ft. 532. BPBM 3256: Dress, hau (mat), for women. Ruk [Chuuk]. 23 in. x 3½ ft. 533. BPBM 3257: Dress, hau (mat), for women. Ruk [Chuuk]. 22½ in. x 3½ ft. 534. BPBM 3261: Man’s scarf, plain, mat hau. Ruk [Chuuk]. 15 in. x 7 ft. 535. BPBM 3263: Man’s scarf, plain, mat hau. Ruk [Chuuk]. 18 in. x 6½ ft. 536. BPBM 3281: Hoe, short wooden handle, turtle bone blade, for digging kalo. Ruk [Chuuk]. 537–539. BPBM 3282–3284: Hoes, like BPBM 3281. 540. BPBM 3292: Pestle of coral rock. Ruk [Chuuk]. [“These pestles are neatly made, and resemble the Hawaiian conical pohaku kui poi; the top or handle is, however, quite different, and often furnished with two knobs or points” (BPBM 1892–1893, III: 47).]

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541. BPBM 3297: Tike. Ruk [Chuuk]. [“A pigment said to be prepared from a species of ginger and used for rouge. Usually made in January, the paste is cast in small coconut cups and wrapped neatly in strips of vegetable fibre. It is sold in large quantities to Mortlock people: three tikes are equal in value to a musket” (BPBM 1892–1893, III: 47).] 542. BPBM 3313: Sling of coconut fibre, thick and of peculiar form. 543–546. BPBM 3314–3317: Slings of coconut fibre, common form. 547. BPBM 3320: Necklace of coconut rings. Ruk [Chuuk]. 548. BPBM 3324: Necklace of coconut rings. Ruk [Chuuk]. 549. BPBM 3368: Dress of native hemp for men and boys. 550. BPBM 3377: Hair pin, 5 prongs. Mortlock Ids. 551. BPBM 3378: Hair pin, 3 prongs. Mortlock Ids. 552. BPBM 3385: Hair pin, [shell] with headband of beads. Ruk [Chuuk]. 553. BPBM 3385_z: [Headband. Coconut shell, cordage, glass, bead, wood.] 554. BPBM 3389: Fillet of white shells. Mortlock Ids. 555. BPBM 3397: Belt, 7 strands beads. Ruk [Chuuk]. 556. BPBM 3399: Belt, 5 strands beads. Ruk [Chuuk]. 557. BPBM 3400: Belt, 15 strands black and brown beads. 558. BPBM 3410: Belt, 7 strands coconut and [green] glass beads. Ruk [Chuuk]. 559. BPBM 3416: Band of coconut beads. 560. BPBM 3427: Ear ornament, coconut beads, large cluster. Ruk [Chuuk]. 561. BPBM 3475: Arm ring of tortoise–shell. Ruk [Chuuk]. 562. BPBM 3493: Sleeping mat of pandanus leaves curiously joined; its structure permits it to be readily rolled up, and the portion unrolled forms the bed while the remaining roll serves as pillow. Ponape [Pohnpei]. 1⅔ x 10 ft. 563. BPBM 3515: Conical hat of pandanus leaves. Ruk [Chuuk]. 564. BPBM 3547: Bowl of wood, quadrangular. 565. BPBM 3554: Dancing stick [dance wand]. Ruk [Chuuk]. 566. BPBM 4014: Adz of shell of Tridacna gigas. 567. BPBM 4017: Wooden box and cover. 568. BPBM 4474: [Belt. Wood, cordage, coconut shell beads.] 569. BPBM 5633: Mask [tapuanu] of wood painted white with black trimmings. Of large size. [Mortlock Islands.] 570. BPBM 5634: Mask [tapuanu] of wood painted white with black trimmings. Of large size. [Mortlock Islands.] 571. BPBM 6626: [Belt. Tol. Fiber, Brown, red designs. Pohnpei.] 572. BPBM 7548: [Canoe model, painted. Chuuk.]80 573. BPBM 7549: [Canoe model, painted red and white. Pohnpei.] 574. BPBM 7550: [Canoe model with outrigger. Painted brown and white. Approximately 4½ ft. long. Pohnpei.] 575. BPBM 8899: [Ornament. Broken. Cordage, pandanus, shell. Mortlock or Ruk (Chuuk).] 576. BPBM 8899a: [Bracelet. Cordage, pandanus, shell.] 577. BPBM 8899b: [Bracelet. Cordage, pandanus, shells.]



Catalogue

578. BPBM 8899c: [Ornament in 3 pieces. Cordage, pandanus, shell. Mortlock or Ruk (Chuuk). H.M. Kalākaua.] 579. BPBM 8900a: [Ornament. Numerous rings and pieces with large disk. Tortoise shell, cordage.] 580. BPBM 8900b: [Bracelet. 3 rings interlocked and tied with sennit. Tortoise shell, sennit.] 581–582. BPBM 8900c–d: [Ornaments. Flat ring. Turtle shell.] 583. BPBM 8900e: [Ornament. Small, flat ring. Turtle shell.] 584. BPBM 8900f: [Ornament. Triangular and roundish pieces on modern string. Tortoise shell, string.] 585. BPBM 8900g: [Ornament. 4 ridged interlocking rings. Tortoise shell.] 586–588. BPBM 8900h–j: [Ornaments. Triangular piece w/small bored hole. Turtle shell.] 589. BPBM 8900k: [Ornament. Roundish piece w/broken edge and bored hole. Turtle shell.] 590. BPBM 8900l: [Ornament. Roundish piece, bored hole. Turtle shell.] 591. BPBM 8900m: [Ornament. Ring with ridges. Turtle shell.] 592. BPBM 8900n: [Ornament. Large, flat ring. Turtle shell.] 593. BPBM 8900o: [Bracelet. Open ring with 3 ridges. Turtle shell.] 594. BPBM 8900p: [Ornament. Medium sized with 8 ridges. Turtle shell.] 595. BPBM 8900q: [Ornament. Small ring with 7 ridges. Turtle shell.] 596. BPBM 8900r: [Ornament. Medium sized ring with 9 ridges. Turtle shell.] 597. BPBM 8900s: [Ornament. Small and dark with 7 ridges, worn. Turtle shell.] 598. BPBM 8900t: [Ornament. Large with 7 ridges. Turtle shell.] 599. BPBM 8900u: [Ornament. Large w/12 ridges. Turtle shell.] 600. BPBM B.601. [Dance wand. Wood, cloth, beads, turtle shell, black paint.] 601. BPBM B.605: [Comb. Wood.] 602. BPBM B.606: [Comb. Wood and fiber.] 603. BPBM B.607: [Comb. Wood] 604–605. BPBM B.608–609: [Hair pins. Wood.] 606. BPBM B.610: [Hair pin. Shell.]81 ii. Gilbert Islands [Kiribati]82 607. BPBM 826: Spear of coconut wood armed with two rows of shark’s teeth. 608. BPBM 836: Spear. Wood, cordage, skin, shark teeth. 609. BPBM 3272: Sword of shark’s teeth, straight, with guard. 610. BPBM 3350: Basket. 611. BPBM 3373: Dress [skirt] for a woman. 612. BPBM 3405: Necklace of 25 [whale] teeth filed, [strung on fiber cord with colored beads]. 613. BPBM 3407: Necklace of disks of conus shells. 614. BPBM 3419: Collar of coconut beads, flat. 615. BPBM 3432: Shell money in coil. 616. BPBM 3496: Mat pandanus, two colors. 2 x 1½ ft. 617. BPBM 3497: Mat pandanus, sack. 1¼ x 1½ ft.

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618. BPBM 3502: Mat pandanus, girl’s garment. 2⅔ x 5 ft. 619. BPBM 3503: Mat pandanus, girl’s garment. 1⅓ x 2⅔ ft. 620. BPBM 3519: Cuirass [armor breastplate and back-plate fastened together] of coconut. [Published in Brigham 1903, Fig. 51.] 621–622. BPBM 3520–3521: Cuirass [armor breastplate and back-plate fastened together] of coconut. 623. BPBM 3525: Cuirass of coconut, narrow back-plate. [Published in Brigham 1903, Fig. 51.] 624. BPBM 3528: Cuirass of coconut. [Published in Brigham 1903, Fig. 51.] 625. BPBM 3533: [Skullcap] of coconut fibre. 626. BPBM 3548: Coconut belt. 627. BPBM 5108: Sword of shark’s teeth.83 628. BPBM 6399: [Basket. Pandanus, cordage, coconut leaf.] 629. BPBM 7093: [Weapon. Shark teeth, wood, cordage.] 630. BPBM 7518: [Basket.] 631. BPBM 7519: [Dance paddle.] 632. BPBM 7527: [Basket, pandanus.] 633–646. BPBM 7528.001–7528.0014: [Pipes, tobacco. Pandanus.] 647. BPBM 7531: [Basket.] 648–649. BPBM 7616a–7616b: [Bolas, gypsum stone and cordage.] 650. BPBM 8902: Whale tooth pendant, perforated. iii. Marshall Islands 651–653. BPBM 3285–3287: Shell [adzes]. Tridacna gigas. 654–655. BPBM 3224–2325: Mats, pandanus bordered with hau. 3 x 3 ft. 656. BPBM 3340: Fan, palm, square. 657–658. BPBM 3371.001–3371.002: Dress of thick, loose fibres of hau. 659. BPBM 7536: [Adze. Shell, wood.] 660. BPBM 7547: [Canoe model with complete rig.] iv. Micronesia without More Particular Locality and Miscellaneous 661. Photographs, 10, Scenes in the Caroline and Peleu [Belau] Islands. [Identified only in Hitchcock’s ca. 1875 report.] 662–663. BPBM 1891.001.009a–1891.001.009b: [Containers. Coconut, fiber, wood.] 664. BPBM 1891.001.010a: [Container. Coconut, fiber, wood.] 665. BPBM 1891.001.010b: [Container. Coconut, fiber, wood. Attached to BPBM 1891.001.010a.] 666. BPBM 1891.001.011a: [Container. Coconut, fiber, wood.] 667. BPBM 1891.001.011b: [Container. Coconut, fiber, wood. Attached to BPBM 1891.001.011a.] 668. BPBM 1891.001.013a: [Water container. Coconut, fiber, wood.] 669. BPBM 1891.001.013b: [Water container. Coconut, fiber, wood. Attached by cordage to .013a.] 670. BPBM 1891.001.014a: [Water container. Coconut, fiber, shell.]



Catalogue

671. BPBM 1891.001.014b: [Water container. Coconut, fiber, shell. Attached to BPBM 1891.001.014a.] 672. BPBM 1891.001.015a: [Water container. Coconut, fiber, wood.] 673. BPBM 1891.001.015b: [Water container. Coconut, fiber, wood. Was attached to BPBM 1891.001.015a.] 674. BPBM 1891.001.016: [Container. Coconut, fiber.] 675–676. BPBM 1891.001.017–1891.001.018: [Containers, water. Coconut, fiber.] 677. BPBM 1891.001.019: [Container, water. Coconut.] 678. BPBM 3408: Band of woven pandanus covered with small black and white shells. 679. BPBM 3483: Cincture of Ovulum ovum and human hair. 680. BPBM B.602: [Dance Wand. Wood, cloth, beads, feathers.] 681. BPBM B.603: [3 Canoe models.] 682. BPBM B.604a–f: [Models of paddles. Wood.] 683–684. BPBM B.621–622: [Image of a bird. Wood and paint.] D. Other Ethnological Artifacts 685. Helmet, South Sea Islands.84 686. Wig of human hair, South Seas. 687. Carving, human face, South Seas. 688. Copper coins, 22 old. 689. Ivory figures, 5—made by Indians. 690. Paint brush—Queen Charlotte’s [Santa Cruz] Islands. 691. Slate flute—Queen Charlotte’s [Santa Cruz] Islands. 692. War helmet and breast plate, [K]orean. 693. [Hat, Japanese shape.] 694. [Japanese head rest.] 695. [Collection of Japanese silk fabrics, etc., in box.] 696. [Japanese armour.] 697. [1 large green sun-shade. Chinese or Japanese.] 698. BPBM 1891.001.006: [Canoe paddle with sharply pointed end and very thick handle shaft. Unspecified location of origin.] 699. BPBM 3759: [Fishhook. Northwest Coast, North America.] 700. BPBM 1891.001.012a: [Belt for fencing. Fur. China?] 701. BPBM 1891.001.012b: [Heavy jacket for fencing. China?] 702. BPBM 1891.001.012c: [Helmet for fencing. Cone shaped with 4 flaps. Cloth, metal. China?] 703–706. BPBM 1891.001.020a–1891.001.020d: [Ramie. Raw fiber samples at different stages of processing. Collected at the World’s Industrial and Cotton Centennial Exposition, New Orleans, 1884–1885.] 707–731. BPBM 1891.001.021a–1891.001.021y: [Ramie. Thread, fiber, and cordage samples. Various colors. Collected at Exposition Universelle, Antwerp, 1885.] 732–753. BPBM 1891.001.022a–1891.001.002v: [Ramie. Cloth samples. Plain, basket, gabardine, and linen weaves; twill, damask, lace, brocade, and velvet. Various colors. Collected at Exposition Universelle, Antwerp, 1885.]

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754. BPBM 1891.001.023: [Ramie shawl.] 755. BPBM 5132: Umbrella of silk; Chinese make, of immense size, red. 756. Mamalu [umbrella], formerly carried over the chiefesses. [Identified in Honolulu Library Association 1882.] 757. BPBM 7099: [Pottery, black with handle. Carved designs. Clay. Shima, Peru.] 758. BPBM B.625: [Miniature human figures in a cigar box. Wood, cloth. Guatemala.]

Part IV: Portraits and Views85 759. King Kamehameha III.86 760. Queen Kalama. 761. Queen Victoria. 762. H.R.H. Prince Albert. 763. Philippe I. 764. His Majesty Leopold King of the Belgians. 765. Napoleon Bonapart[e] in the Hospital of Egypt. 766. William P. Leleiohoku. 767. Edward Everett. 768. Mr. Richards.

Part V: The Natural History Collections A. Birds of the Hawaiian Islands87 769. Box containing Birds Cones. [Received from ‘Iolani Palace. Identified in the 1874 source.] B. Fishes, Crustacea, Radiates, etc. 770. [Jaw of young shark.] 771. Ke-a-Niuhi. The Maw of a Niuhi [a large, gray, man-eating shark]. One of the largest and fiercest of known sharks. It is distinguished from all others, from having eyes which emit a greenish phosphorescent light at night (Nākuina, 15). 772. [Spinous drumfish. 2 items.] 773. [Jaw of eel.] 774–775. BPBM 5703–5704: Shrimps, Opae. 776. BPBM 5705: Hermit crab, Caenobita tricarinata. 777–778. BPBM 5707–5708: Crabs. 779–780. BPBM 5711–5712: Crabs. 781. BPBM 5713: Crab. Hawaiian. 782–784. BPBM 5747–5749: Star-fish. 785. BPBM 5756: Sea-urchin. 786. BPBM 5778: Squid, small. 787. BPBM 5782: Pandanus sp. 788. BPBM 5784: Walking-stick (3), Phasmidae.



C. Marine Shells, Hawaiian88 789–792. BPBM 6243–46: Cypraea. 793. BPBM 6247: Cypraea cicercula. 794. BPBM 6248: Cypraea annulata. 795. BPBM 6249: Cypraea tabescens. 796. BPBM 6250: Cypraea aurantium (Liliuokalani). 797–806. BPBM 6251–6260: Cypraea aurantium. 807–810. BPBM 6261–6264: Turbo. 811. BPBM 6265: Turbo variabilis. 812–818. BPBM 6266–6272: Turbo. 819. BPBM 6273: Conus textilis. 820. BPBM 6274: Conus quercinus. 821. BPBM 6275: Conus stamineus. 822. BPBM 6276: Conus virgo. 823. BPBM 6277: Conus crocatus. 824. BPBM 6278: Conus porto-ricanus. 825–826. BPBM 6279–6280: Conus porto-ricanus. 827. BPBM 6281: Triton anus. 828. BPBM 6282: Triton ranelloides. 829. BPBM 6283: Triton scaber. 830. BPBM 6284: Triton sarcostoma. 831. BPBM 6285: Triton sarcostoma. 832. BPBM 6286: Murex tenuispina, Lam. 833. BPBM 6287: Murex tenuispina, Lam. 834. BPBM 6288: Dolium perdix, Lam. 835. BPBM 6289: Dolium perdix, Lam. 836. BPBM 6290: Calyptra. 837–838. BPBM 6291–6292: Haliotis. 839. BPBM 6293: Melo indicus. 840–841. BPBM 6294–6295: Oliva porphyria. 842. BPBM 6296: Ovula ovum. 843. BPBM 6297: Pterocera. 844–845. BPBM 6298–6299: Cassis. 846–847. BPBM 6300–6301: Strombus gigas. 848. BPBM 6302: Mitra fulva. 849. BPBM 6303: Mitra acuminata. 850. BPBM 6304: Terebra aciculina, Lam. 851. BPBM 6305: Terebra interlineata, Desh. 852. BPBM 6306: Vertagus articulata. 853. BPBM 6307: Argonauta argo. 854. BPBM 6308: Nautilus pompilius. 855. BPBM 6309: Amuseum caurium. 856. BPBM 6310: Pecten pallium. 857. BPBM 6311: Pecten alba.

Catalogue

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170

Catalogue

858–859. BPBM 6312–6313: Pecten alba. 860. BPBM 6314: Lithodomus. 861. BPBM 6315: Tellina. 862. BPBM 6316: Perna. 863–872. BPBM 6317–6326: [No labels.] 873. BPBM 6327: Cardium. 874. BPBM 6328: Cardium (Liliuokalani). 875. BPBM 6329: Cardium. 876. BPBM 6330: Tridacna gigas. 877. BPBM 6331: Tridacna elongata. 878. BPBM 6332: Tridacna elongata. 879–880. BPBM 6333–6334: Hippopus maculatus. 881. BPBM 6335: Spondylus aurantius. 882–884. BPBM 6336–6338: Spondylus aurantius. 885–886. BPBM 6339–6340: Ostraea carinata. 887. BPBM 6341: Malleus vulgaris. 888. BPBM 6342: Avicula margaritifera. 889. BPBM 6343: Avicula heteroptera. 890. BPBM 6344: Meleagrina. 891–893. BPBM 6345–6347: Pinna nigrina. 894–902. BPBM 6348–6356: [No labels.] D. Corals and Corallines 903–904. BPBM 2700–2701: Madrepora rosaria, Dana. Fiji. 905. BPBM 2702: Madrepora spicifera, Dana. Fiji. 906. BPBM 2703: Madrepora cytherea, Dana. Tahiti. 907. BPBM 2704: Tubipora syringa, Dana. Fiji. 908. BPBM 2705: Meandrina tenius, Dana. Fiji. 909–911. BPBM 2723–2725: Madrepora sp. 912. BPBM 2727: Pavonia, decussata, Dana. Fiji. 913. BPBM 2732: Nullipore. Large mass, 15 x 20 in. 914. BPBM 2733: Dendrophyllia nigrescens, Dana. Fiji. 915. BPBM 2734: Pavonia? Large laminate mass. 916. BPBM 2740: Gorgonia. 917. BPBM 2795: Meandrina tenuis, Dana. Fiji. E. Vegetable Productions 918. BPBM 5325: Prepared leaves of the dwarf fala of Samoa. Pandanus sp.89 919. BPBM 5326: Calabash or Ipu pueo [as cut from the vine]. F. Hawaiian Woods90 G. New Zealand Woods91



H. California Woods92 920. [Petrified wood from Calavera.] 921. BPBM 6500: Madroño, Arbutus menziesii. 922. BPBM 6501: Nutmeg, Torreya californica. 923. BPBM 6502: Lilac, Ceanothus sp. 924. BPBM 6503: Laurel, Umbellularia californica. 925. BPBM 6504: Buckeye, Aesculus californica. 926. BPBM 6505: Yew, Taxus brevifolia. 927–928. BPBM 6506–6507: Sycamore. 929. BPBM 6508: Live oak, Quercus agrifolia. 930. BPBM 6509: Yellow oak, Quercus densiflora. I. Japanese Woods93 931. Chamaecyparis obtusa. 932. Chamaecyparis pisifera. 933. Thujopsis dolabrata. 934. Thujopsis laetevirens. 935. Cryptomeria japonica. 936. Pinus thunbergii. 937. Pinus densiflora. 938. Pinus koraiensis. 939. Pinus parviflora. 940. Abies firma. 941. Abies microsperma. 942. Abies tsuga. 943. Abies alcokiana. 944. Abies veitchii. 945. Abies polita. 946. Taxus cuspidata. 947. Torreya nucifera. 948. Sciadopytis verticillata. 949. Amelanchier canadensis. 950. Distylium racemosum. 951. Acanthopanax divaricatum. 952. Acanthopanax innovans. 953. Kalopanaz ricinifolia. 954. Cornus brachypoda. 955. Cornus kousa. 956. Styrax japonica. 957. Styrax obassia. 958. Symplocos panniculata. 959. Diospyros lotus. 960. Andromeda ovalifolia. 961. Andromeda japonica. 962. Clethra parvinervis.

Catalogue

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172

Catalogue

963. Ilex pendanculosa. 964. Ilex crenata. 965. Ilex integra. 966. Olea aquifolium. 967. Juniperus rigida. 968. Juniperus chinensis. 969. Larix leptolepis. 970. Podocarpus macrophylla. 971. Podocarpus nageia. 972. Ginkgo biloba. 973. Cercidiphyllum japonicum. 974. Magnolia hypoleuca. 975. Trochodendron aralioides. 976. Idesia polycarpa. 977. Sterculia platanifolia. 978. Tilia cordata. 979. Camellia japonica. 980. Stuartia sp. 981. Ternstroemia japonica. 982. Acer palmatum. 983. Acer crataegifolium. 984. Acer sp. 985. Acer sp. 986. Aesculus turbinata. 987. Sapindus mukurosi. 988. Melia japonica. 989. Cedrela chinensis. 990. Zanthoxylon ailanthoides. 991. Evodia glauca. 992. Picrasma ailanthoides. 993. Evonymus sieboldianus. 994. Hovenia dulcis. 995. Rhus vernicifera. 996. Rhus succedanea. 997. Rhus semialata. 998. Sophora japonica. 999. Sophora sp. 1000. Gleditschia japonica. 1001. Albizzia julibrissin. 1002. Prunus mume. 1003. Prunus pseudocerasus. 1004. Prunus siori. 1005. Photinia villosa. 1006. Fraxinus pubinervis.



1007. Fraxinus sp. 1008. Catalpa kaempferi. 1009. Paulownia imperialis. 1010. Cinnamomum camphora. 1011. Cinnamomum pedunculatum. 1012. Litsaea glauca. 1013. Actinodaphne lancifolia. 1014. Elaeococca cordata. 1015. Buxus sempervirens. 1016. Rottlera japonica. 1017. Zelkowa keaki. 1018. Ulmus campestris. 1019. Morus alba. 1020. Aphananthe aspera. 1021. Celtis sinensis. 1022. Quercus glauca. 1023. Quercus acuta. 1024. Quercus phyllyroides. 1025. Quercus gibba. 1026. Quercus glabra. 1027. Quercus dentata. 1028. Quercus serrata. 1029. Quercus crispula. 1030. Quercus sp. 1031. Quercus cuspidata. 1032. Castanea vulgaris. 1033. Alnus maritima. 1034. Alnus firma. 1035. Alnus sp. 1036. Alnus sp. 1037. Betula alba. 1038. Carpinus sp. 1039. Carpinus sp. 1040. Fagus sylvatica. 1041. Salix japonica. 1042. Salix buergeriana. 1043. Populus sieboldii. 1044. Juglans sieboldiana. 1045. Pyrus sambucifolia. 1046. Pyrus communis. 1047. Pyrus toringo. 1048. Pyrus aria. 1049. Pterocarya sorbifolia. 1050. Platycarya strobilacea.

Catalogue

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174

Catalogue

J. Hawaiian Ferns94 1051. Hapuu. Edible fern. The crooked stem used as food in times of famine (Nākuina, 18). K. Geological and Mineralogical Specimens95 1052. Sopwith’s Geological models. 1053. Specimens from Lahainaluna Cave (Nākuina, 19). 1054. Silicate of Limu from Mokapu Crater. Koolau, Oahu (Nākuina, 19). 1055. Gypsum from Waianae, Oahu (Nākuina, 19; see BPBM 5441.) 1056. Rocks from Kauai (Nākuina, 19; see BPBM 5677, 5680–5681). 1057. Specimens. Rocks, Big Gulch, Oahu (Nākuina, 19). 1058. Pumice and oxide of iron. Big Gulch, Oahu (Nākuina, 19). 1059. Pumice stone from Kaukonahua, Oahu (Nākuina, 19). 1060. Scoria from crater at mouth of Manoa Valley, Oahu (Nākuina, 19). 1061. Basalt from projecting cliff, left-hand side of Nuuanu Valley, 3½ miles from Honolulu (Nākuina, 19). 1062. Decomposing perioditic lava with olivine from Oahu (Nākuina, 19). 1063. Olivine specimens from Salt Lake, Oahu (Nākuina, 19). 1064. Tufa from crater Aliapaakai, Oahu (Nākuina, 19). 1065. Magnetic ore from slope of Diamond Head (Nākuina, 19). 1066. Laminated lava from crater mauka of Diamond Head (Nākuina, 19). 1067. Tufa from Punchbowl quarry. West side (Nākuina, 19). 1068. Tufa from about 100 ft. up on the Tufa Crater of Diamond Head (Nākuina, 19). 1069. Basalt and pumice stone from cliff in Nuuanu Valley (Nākuina, 19). 1070. Olivine from Puu Io [Pu‘u‘io], Hawaii (Nākuina, 19).96 1071. Rocks from Punchbowl (Nākuina, 20). 1072. Ropy surface of pahoehoe-stream from hill north side of gulch back of Punchbowl (Nākuina, 20). 1073. Mass of quartz . . . found in stream near the prison. Honolulu (Nākuina, 20). 1074. Charred wood found in Government artesian well at Pawaa under a bed of coral 200 ft. deep (Nākuina, 20). 1075. Shell from lava in Pawaa well 330 ft. deep (Nākuina, 20). 1076. [Piece] of wood dug up from Mr. Jaeger’s artesian well at a depth of 245 feet, under a bed of coral rock 150 feet in thickness (Nākuina, 20). 1077. Quartz crystals. Kailua, Oahu (Nākuina, 20). 1078. Compound lava with quartz. Kailua, Oahu (Nākuina, 20). 1079. Smoky quartz from path below Kapena, Oahu. From stream near Salt Lake with tubular crystals (Nākuina, 20). 1080. Ropy pahoehoe from Waimea Gulch, Oahu (Nākuina, 20). 1081. Boulder from stream near Aliapaakai[, O‘ahu] (Nākuina, 20). 1082. Rocks from Kalaupapa, Molokai (Nākuina, 20). 1083. Caladonis and quartz from Molokai (Nākuina, 20). 1084. Iron ore from Molokai (Nākuina, 20). 1085. Limestone from Kalae of Kaluakoi, Molokai (Nākuina, 20).



Catalogue

1086. Rock from summit of Kahoolawe (Nākuina, 20). 1087. Specimen from Pakaaoao, Haleakala, Maui (Nākuina, 20). 1088. Specimen with white tubular crystals. Haleakala, Maui (Nākuina, 20). 1089. Lavas from Haleakala, Maui (Nākuina, 20). 1090. Agate crystals from Haleakala, Maui (Nākuina, 20). 1091. BPBM 5352: Sounding sand from Mana, Kauai. 1092. BPBM 5354: Lava pendant from cave, molten formation. 1093. BPBM 5355: Sulphur; massive. 1094. BPBM 5356: Lava encrusting a branch of ohia. The molten lava forms a jacket two inches thick, and has consumed the bark but slightly scorched the wood. Hawaii. 1095. BPBM 5357: Compact lava from an ancient flow. 1096. BPBM 5358: Stalagmite from cave in Kilauea. 1097. BPBM 5359: Stalagmite from cave in Kilauea. 1098. BPBM 5360: Stalagmite from cave in Kilauea, massive; from floor of cave. 1099. BPBM 5369: Push from running lava stream, Kilauea. 1100. BPBM 5370: Push from running lava stream, Kilauea. 1101. BPBM 5372: Push from running lava stream, old and red. 1102. BPBM 5374: Phonolite chip with nodule of olivine enclosed. Brought by Miss I. Bird from the adz factory on Mauna Kea. 1103. BPBM 5378: Crust from blow-hole, sulphurized. 1104. BPBM 5379: [Crust from edge of Dana pool with drippings.] 1105. BPBM 5405: Stalagmite, rough, light brown. 1106. BPBM 5406: Stalagmite, rough, light brown. 1107. BPBM 5407: Stalagmite, rough. 1108. BPBM 5408: Stalagmite, rough. 1109. BPBM 5409: Stalagmite, much corroded. 1110. BPBM 5410: Stalagmite covered with drops of red lava. 1111. BPBM 5411: [Stalagmite covered with drops of red lava.] 1112. BPBM 5412: Stalagmite, large mass. 1113. BPBM 5413: Portion of the floor of a lava cave[, large mass]. 1114. BPBM 5414: Portion of the floor of a lava cave, with red drops. 1115. BPBM 5415: Portion of the floor of a lava cave, [with] red [drops]. 1116. BPBM 5416: Portion of the floor of a lava cave, [red]. 1117. BPBM 5417: Portion of the floor of a lava cave[, white crust]. 1118. BPBM 5418: Portion of the floor of a lava cave. 1119. BPBM 5419: Limu [thin flakes of basaltic glass] passing into slag. 1120. BPBM 5422: Limu from orifice of the flow of 1868. Kau, Hawaii. 1121. BPBM 5425: Crust from the flow of 1868. Kau, Hawaii. 1122. BPBM 5437: Lava. Haleakala, Maui (see Nākuina, 20). 1123. BPBM 5438: Crust from windward side of Oahu (see Nākuina, 19). 1124. BPBM 5439: Lava from the roof of a cave in Rooke’s Valley, Nuuanu, Oahu (see (Nākuina, 20). 1125. BPBM 5440: Salt from Aliapaakai[, O‘ahu] (see Nākuina, 19).

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1126 . BPBM 5441: Gypsum. 1127. BPBM 5674: Quartz nodule from Punchbowl, Honolulu. 1128. BPBM 5675: Tufa, Punchbowl, Honolulu. 1129. BPBM 5676: Lava, Kapalama, Oahu. 1130. BPBM 5677: Selenite crystals. Waimea, Kauai. 1131. BPBM 5680: Selenite from ancient lava cavities, [Waimea,] Kauai. 1132. BPBM 5681: Selenite, smaller crystals, Kauai. 1133. BPBM 5683: Zeolitic lava, Oahu (see Nākuina, 19). 1134. BPBM 5684: Quartz in irregular masses, Kaneohe, Oahu (see Nākuina, 20). 1135. BPBM 5685: [Olivine, O‘ahu.] 1136. BPBM 5686: Lava crusts, compact but thin. Telegraph Hill, Oahu. 1137. BPBM 5687: Indurated tufa, Punchbowl, Oahu (see Nākuina, 19). 1138. BPBM 5695: Pitch stone from the edge of a dyke at Nuuanu Pali, Oahu (see Nākuina, 19). 1139. BPBM 5696: Iron oxide. L. Miscellaneous 1140. [Lower Jaw of a human, imperfect.] 1141. [Case of anatomical models.] 1142–1152. BPBM 5789–5799: Hawaiian crania [iwipoo]. 1153. California wood lizard and egg.

Part VI: Catalogue of Books in the Hawaiian Government Library97 Acosta, Joseph. Joseph Acosta, societatis Iesu, de natura novi orbis libri duo, et de promulgatione evangelii apud barbaros, sive de procuranda indorum salute, libri sex. Cologne, 1596. Adams, Arthur. Various conchological papers, extracted from proceedings of scientific societies. London, v.d. Adams, Arthur, ed. The zoology of the voyage of the H. M. S. Samarang 1843–46. London, 1850. Agassiz, Louis. Contributions to the natural history of the United States of North America: Essay on classification. Boston, 1857. Albany Institute. Transactions of the Albany Institute. Albany, 1830–1864. Alder, Joshua, and Albany Hancock. A monograph of the British nudibranchiate mollusca. London, 1845–1855. American Ephemeris and Nautical Almanac for the Year 1889. Washington, DC, 1889. Annales de l’Extrême Orient: Bulletin de la Société Académique Indo-Chinoise. Revue Asiatique et Océanienne sous la direction du Dr. Cte. Meyners D’Estrey. Paris, 1878–1879. Annales des Sciences Naturelles. Table des matières. Première série. Paris, 1824–1825. Annals and Magazine of Natural History, Including Zoology, Botany, and Geology. Third series. London, 1858–1868. Anrep-Elmpt, Graf Reinhold. Die Sandwich-Inseln oder das Inselreich von Hawaii. Leipzig, 1885. Anthropological Society. Memoirs read before the Anthropological Society of London, 1863– 1869. Appelius, F. L. Le conchiglie del mar Tirreno. Pisa, 1869.



Catalogue

Argensola, Bartolomé Leonardo de. Histoire de la conquête des Isles Moluques par les Espagnols, par les Portugais, et par les Hollandoise. Traduite de l’Espagnol d’Argensola. Amsterdam, 1706. Arithmetic: Gilbert Islands. Te boki n rei te ware-bai. Honolulu, 1871. Aubertin, J. J. A fight with distances: The States, the Hawaiian Islands, Canada, British Columbia, Cuba, the Bahamas. London, 1888. Bastian, Adolf. Zur kentniss Hawaii’s: Nachträge und ergänzungen zu den inselgruppen in Oceanien, mit 1 tafel und 2 beilagen. Berlin, 1883. Beaurepaire, Rohan Henrique de. Estudos acerca da organização da carta geographica e da historia physica e politica do Brazil. Rio de Janeiro, 1877. Becker, George F. Geology of the Comstock lode and the Washoe district. Washington, DC, 1882. Belkum, Jac. van. De Zending op de Sandwichs Eilanden. Steenwijk, 1887. Belville, John Henry. Manual of the mercurial and aneroid barometers. 3rd ed. London, 1858. Bérenger-Féraud, L. J. B. Les peuplades de la Sénégambie: Histoire, ethnographie, moeurs et coutumes, légendes, etc. Paris, 1879. Bergen, Charles Augustus de. Classes conchyliorum. Nuremberg, 1760. Bernardi, Le Chevalier A. Monographie du genie Conus. Paris, n.d. ——— . Monographie des genres Galatea et Fischeria. Paris, 1860. Bernardino de Souza, Conego Francisco. Commissão do Madeira: Pará a Amazonas pelo encarregado dos trabalhos ethnographicos. Rio de Janeiro, 1874. Parte 2, 1875. Born, Ignatz Baron von. Testacea musei caesarei vindobonensis. Vienna, 1780. Bourguignat, J. R. Malacologie terrestre de l’ile du Château d’If près de Marseille. Paris, 1869. Bowring, Sir John. A visit to the Philippine Islands. London, 1859. Brazier, John. Catalogue of land and marine shells from Australia and the adjacent islands, in the collection of John Brazier. Sydney, 1869. Bresson, André. Bolivia: Sept années d’exploration, de voyages et de séjours dans l’Amérique australe. Paris, 1886. Buchanan, John. The indigenous grasses of New Zealand. Illustrated by John Buchanan. Wellington, 1878–1879. Bulletino Malacologico Italiano. Molluschi terrestri e d’acqua dolce. Pisa, 1868. Burney, James. A chronological history of the discoveries in the South Seas or Pacific Ocean. London, 1803–1806. Buschmann, J., Ch. Ed. Aperçu de la langue des Iles Marquises et de la langue Ta[ï]tienne précédé d’une introduction sur l’histoire et la Géographie de l’archipel des Marquises. Accompagné d’un Vocabulaire inédit de la langue Taïtienne par le baron Guillaume de Humboldt. Berlin, 1843. California Academy of Natural Sciences. Proceedings. San Francisco, 1854–. California Agricultural Society. Transactions of the California State Agricultural Society during the years 1864 and 1865. Sacramento, 1866. Camara, Antonio Alves. Analyse dos instrumentos de sondar a perscrutar os segredos da naturesa submarinha. Rio de Janeiro, 1878. Caminhoa, Luis. Relatorio sobre a zootechnia na exposição de Vienna em 1873. Rio de Janeiro, 1874.

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Cassin, John. Mammalogy and ornithology of the United States Exploring Expedition. Philadelphia, 1855. Catalogue of authors in the Library of Congress. Vols. 1 and 2. Washington, DC, 1878–1880. Catalogue of books added to the Library of Congress. Washington, DC, 1867–1872. Catalogue of the Library of Congress. Washington, DC, 1861. Chadbourne, Paul A. Lectures on natural history: Its relations to intellect, taste, wealth and religion. New York, 1860. Challenger, Voyage of the: Narrative. Vol. 2: Zoology. London, 1880–1883. Claparède, Rene Eduard. Cyclostomatis elegantis anatome. Berlin, 1857. Cobres, I. P. Deliciæ Cobresianæ. Buchersammlung zur Naturgeschichte. Augsburg, 1872. Cooper, Joseph. Un continent perdu, ou l’esclavage et la traite en Afrique, 1875. Avec quelques observations sur la manière dont ils se pratiquent en Asie et dans d’autres contrées sous le nom de système contractuel de main-d’oeuvre. Traduit de l’Anglais. Paris, 1876. Cox, James C. Catalogue of Australian land shells. Sydney, 1864. Cronise, Titus Fey. The natural wealth of California. San Francisco, 1868. Crosse, H. Observations sur le genre Cône et description de trois espèces nouvelles avec un catalogue alphabètique des Cônes actuellement connus. Paris, 1858. ——— . Un mollusque bien maltraité, ou comment M. Victor Hugo comprend l’organisation du poulpe. Paris, 1866. Curtis, Joseph Story. Silver lead deposits of Eureka, Nevada. U. S. Geol. Survey. Washington, DC, 1884. D’Albertis, L. M. New Guinea: What I did and what I saw. 2nd ed. Boston, 1881. Dall, William Healey. A preliminary catalogue of the shell-bearing mollusks and brachiopods of the southeastern coast of the United States, with illustrations of many of the species. Bull. Nat. Mus. 37. Washington, DC, 1889. Dana, James Dwight. Atlas of Zoophytes. United States Exploring Expedition. Philadelphia, 1845. ——— . On coral reefs and islands. New York, 1853. Davila, M. Catalogue systématique et raisonné des curiosités de la nature et de l’art qui composent le cabinet de M. Davila. Paris, 1767. Day, David T. Mineral resources of the United States. U. S. Geol. Survey. Washington, DC, 1888. Delessert, Benjamin. Recueil de coquilles décrites par Lamarck dans sons Histoire Naturelle des Animaux sans vertébres, et non encore figurées. Paris, 1841. Denys-Montfort, [—]. Histoire naturelle générale et particulière des mollusques. Paris, n.d. Deshayes, G. P. Catalogue des mollusques de l’ile de la Réunion (Bourbon). Paris, 1862. Dewey, Frederic P. A preliminary descriptive catalogue of the systematic collections in economic geology and metallurgy in the U. S. National Museum. Bull. Nat. Mus. 42. Washington, DC, 1891. Diesing, Dr. K. M. Revision der Turbellarien. Abtheilung: Dendrocoelen. Abtheilung: Rhabdocoelen. Wien, 1862. Dollfus, A. et Mont-Serrat, E. de. Voyage géologique dans les républiques de Guatemala et de Salvador. Paris, 1868. Mission scientifique au Mexique et dans l’Amérique centrale. Drouët, Henri. Mollusques marins des Iles Açores. Paris, 1858. ——— . Essai sur les mollusques terrestres et fluviatiles de la Guyane française. Paris, 1859.



Catalogue

Duclos, B. L. Histoire naturelle générale et particulière [de] tous les genres de coquilles univalves marine: Genre Olive. Paris, 1835. Dumont D’Urville, Jules Sébastien César. Zoologie du voyage [de l’Astrolabe] par MM. Hombron et Jaquinet. Paris, 1846–1854. Earl, George Windsor. The native races of the Indian archipelago: Papuans. London, 1853. Edwards, Henry. Bibliographical catalogue of the described transformation of North American lepidoptera. Bull. Nat. Mus. 35. Washington, DC, 1889. Egleston, T. Catalogue of minerals and synonyms alphabetically arranged for the use of museums. Bull. Nat. Mus. Washington, DC, 1889. Ethnological Society, Transactions of the. Vol. 2, 2nd series. London, 1863. Eydoux, Fortuné. Voyage autour du monde par les mers de l’Inde et de Chine, exécuté sur la corvette de l’état La Favorite pendante les années 1830–32, sous la commandment de M. La Place. Paris, 1839. Eydoux et Souleyet. Zoologie: Atlas. (Voyage of the Bonite). Paris, 1841–1852. Fairfax, William. A handbook to Australia. Melbourne, 1859. Férussac, D. de. Histoire naturelle général et particulière des mollusques. Paris, 1828. ——— . Tableaux systématiques des animaux mollusques. Paris, [1820]. Férussac, D. de, et Deshayes, D. P. Histoire naturelle générale et particulière des mollusques terrestres et fluviatiles. Paris, 1820–1851. Férussac, D. de, et D’Orbigny, Alcide. Histoire naturelle générale et particulière descéphalopodes acétabuliféres vivants et fossiles. Paris, 1835–1848. Figuier, Louis. L’Homme primitif. Paris, 1879. Finsch, Otto, and Hartlaub, Georg. Beitrag zur fauna central Polynesiens: Ornithologie der Viti-, Samoa- und Tonga-Inseln. Halle, 1867. Forster, George. A voyage round the world in H. B. M. Sloop Resolution, commanded by Capt. James Cook, during the years 1772, 3, 4, and 5. London, 1777. Frauenfeld, Georg Ritter von. Das Vorkommen des Parasitismus im Their- und Pflanzenreiche. Wien, 1864. Garnier, Jules. Note sur la Nouvelle-Calédonie. Paris, 1868. (Extrait du Bulletin de la Société de Géographie, Mai 1868.) ——— . Océanie, les Iles des Pins, Loyalty et Tahiti. 2e édition. Paris, 1875. Geological Magazine, or Monthly Journal of Geology, with which is incorporated “The Geologist.” Ed. T. Rupert Jones and Henry Woodward. London, 1864–1878. Gormaz, Francisco Vidal. Anuario hidrografico de la marina de Chile publicado por la oficina respectiva. Año 1. Santiago de Chile, 1875. Gould, Dr. Augustus A. Otia conchologica: Descriptions of shells and mollusca from 1839 to 1862. Boston 1862. Graells, M. B. Catalogo de los moluscos terrestres y de agua dulce observados en España. Madrid, 1846. Grateloup, Dr. de. Distribution geographique de la famille de Limaciens. Bordeaux, 1855. Gray, John Edward. Catalogue of Phaneropneumona or terrestrial operculated mollusca in the collection of the British Museum. London, 1852. Grey, Sir George. Polynesian mythology and ancient traditional history of the New Zealand race as furnished by their priests and chiefs. London, 1855.

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Gualtier, Nicolas. Inex testarum conchyliorum. Florence, 1742. Guérin-Méneville, F. F. Revue et magasin de zoologie pure et appliquée. Paris, 1858, 1859, 1860, 1861. Günther, Albert C. L. G. An introduction to the study of fishes. Edinburgh, 1880. ——— . The record of zoological literature 1865. Vol. 2. London, 1866. Hanks, Henry G. Fourth annual report of the state mineralogist for the year ending May 15, 1884. California State Mining Bureau. Sacramento, 1884. Healey, Capt. M. A. Report of the cruise of the revenue marine steamer Corwin in the Arctic Ocean in the year 1885. Washington, DC, 1887. Hermannsen, A. N. Indicia generum malacozoorum supplementa et corrigenda. Cassel, 1852. Hooker, Joseph Dalton. On the flora of Australia, its origin, affinities and distribution: Being an introductory essay to the flora of Tasmania. London, 1859. Humboldt, Alexander von. Cosmos: A sketch of a physical description of the universe. Translated by E. C. Otté. New York, 1852. ——— . Essai politique sur le royaume de la Nouvelle-Espagne. 2me ed. Paris, 1852. Jewett, Charles C. On the construction of catalogues of libraries, and their publication by means of separate stereotyped titles. With rules and examples. 2nd ed. Washington, DC, n.d. Journal de Conchyliologie. Publié sous la direction de Petit de la Siassaye. Paris, 1850–1862. Also 3e série publié sous la direction de MM. Crosse, Fischer et Bernardi. 1863–1870. Jukes, J. Beete. Narrative of the surveying voyage of H. M. S. Fly commanded by Capt. F. P. Blackwood, in Torres Strait, New Guinea and other islands of the eastern archipelago during the years 1842–46, together with an excursion into the interior of the eastern part of Java. London, 1847. Kämmerer, C. L. Die conchylien in Cabinette des Herrn Erbprinzen von Schwarzburg-Rudolstadt. Rudolstadt, 1786. Kiener, L. C. Species general et iconographie des coquilles vivantes. Paris, n.d. Kuster, Dr. C. H. Die Ohrschnecken (Auriculacea) in Abildungen nach der Natur mit Beschreibungen. Nürnberg, 1844. Lahainaluna Seminary. Specimens of first editions of Hawaiian books, published at the Mission Press and bound in kapa or native cloth.98 Lamarck, J. B. P. A. de. Histoire naturelle des animaux sans vertèbres. 2me. ed. Paris, 1835– 1845. Lea, Isaac. Descriptions of fifteen new species of exotic Melaniana. Philadelphia, 1856. ——— . Observations on the genus Unio. Philadelphia, 1857. Lechler, Rev. Rudolf. Meine Heimreise aus China, über Hawaii und quer durch Amerika. [Missions Magazin.] Basel, 1887. Lee, Lieut. S. B. Report and charts of the cruise of the U. S. Brig Dolphin made under direction of the Navy Department. Washington, DC, 1854. Lesson, Dr. A. Légendes des Iles Hawaii tirées de Fornander et commentées par Dr. A. Lesson. Niort et Rochefort, 1884. Lister, Dr. Martin. Historiae sive synopsis methodicae conchyliorum et tabularum anatomicarum editio altero: Recensuit et indicibus auxit. Gulielmus Huddesford, S. T. B., Musei Ashmoleani custos. Oxford, 1770. Livingstone, Rev. David. Missionary travels and researches in South Africa. London, 1857.



Catalogue

Lutteroth, Henri. O—Taïti: Histoire et enquête. Paris, 1845. Marcou, Jules. Distribution géographique de l’or et de l’argent aux Etats-unis et dans les Canadas. Paris, 1867. ——— . Le Dyas au Nébraska. Bull. de la Soc. Geol. de la France, 2me série, vol. 24: 280. Paris, 1867. Mariner, W. Accounts of the natives of the Tonga Islands, with an original grammar etc., compiled and arranged from the extensive communications of W. Mariner, by John Martin. London, 1818. Markham, Clements R. A memoir on the Indian surveys. London, 1871. Martin, William. Catalogue d’ouvrages relatifs aux Iles Hawaii: Essai de bibliographie Hawaiienne. Paris, 1867. McClintock, Captain. The Voyage of the “Fox” in the Arctic Seas: A narrative of the discovery of the fate of Sir John Franklin and his companions. London, 1859.99 Meek, F. B., and Dr. F. V. Hayden. Palæontology of the upper Missouri: Invertebrates. Smithsonian Contributions to Knowledge, 172. Washington, DC, 1865. Meinicke, Carl E. Der Archipel Hawaii. Leipzig, 1888. Menke, Charles Theodore. Synopsis methodica molluscorum generum omnium et species earum quæ in museo Menkeano adservantur: Cum synonymia critica et novarum specierum diagnosibus. Pyrmont, 1828. Menke, Dr. Karl Theodor. Malacozoologische Blätter als Fortsetzung der Zeitschrift für Malacozoologie. Cassel, 1854–1860. Merriam, Dr. C. Hart. North American fauna. Washington, DC, 1889–1891. Michaud, Gaspard. Description de plusieurs nouvelles espèces de Coquilles du genre Rissoa (Fréminville). Lyon, 1831. Middendorff, Dr. A. Th. von. Beiträge zu einer malacozoologia rossica. St. Petersburg, 1849. Also I Abtheilung, 1847. ——— . Reise in den äussershen norden und osten Sibiriens. Zoologie Wirbellose Thiere, St. Petersburg, 1851. Milne-Edwards, Henri. Annales des sciences naturelles: La zoologie. 4me série. Paris, 1857– 1860. Minnesota Academy of Natural Sciences. Bulletins. Minneapolis, 1874–1889. Mittheilungen Ornithologischen Vereins in Wein. Blätter für Vogelkunde Vogel-Schutz undpflege. Redacteur, Dr. Gustav von Hayek. Wien, 1884. Mörsch, O. A. L. Catalogus conchyliorum quae reliquit Don Alphonso D’Aguirra y Gadea: Comes de Yoldi. Copenhagen, 1852–1853. Mouat, Dr. F. J. Adventures and researches among the Andaman Islanders. London, 1863. Muller, Baron Ferdinand von. Select extra-tropical plants readily eligible for industrial culture of naturalisation, with inidication of their native countries and some of their uses. Sydney, 1881. Müller, Friedrich. Ethnographie der Novara Reise. Wien, 1868. ——— . Linguistik: Novara Reise. Wien, 1867. Murray, Rev. Thomas Boyles. Pitcairn: The island, the people and the pastor, with a short account of the Mutiny of the Bounty. 5th ed. London, 1858. Nascentes de Azambuja, Bernardo Augusto. Relatorio sobre as colonias ao sul da provincia da Bahia apresentado ao ministerio da agricultura, commercio e orras publicas. Rio de Janeiro, 1874.

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Appendix: Historical Figures

This appendix provides brief descriptions of notable individuals mentioned in this book. I have included biographical information relevant to this study. Akahiakuleana: mother of ‘Umi. Baldwin, David Dwight (1831–1912): American missionary descendant; educator and natural scientist; curator of the Hawaiian National Museum, ca. 1877–1882. Bishop, Bernice Pauahi (1831–1884): daughter of Konia (granddaughter of Kamehameha I) and Pākī; married American-born businessman Charles R. Bishop. Bishop, Charles R. (1822–1915): American-born businessman; arrived in Hawai‘i 1846; husband of Bernice Pauahi Pākī. As president of the Board of Education, he oversaw the administration of the Hawaiian National Museum. He also founded the Bernice Pauahi Bishop Museum in Honolulu. Cook, James (1728–1779): Captain in the British Royal Navy, navigator, and cartographer; led three Pacific voyages between 1768 and 1779; landed at Waimea, Kaua‘i, in January 1778; killed at Kealakekua Bay in 1779. Gibson, Walter Murray (1822–1888): American-born adventurer, newspaper editor, and politician; arrived in Hawai‘i 1861; naturalized as a Hawaiian citizen in 1866; served in the Hawaiian Legislature (1878–1882) as minister of foreign affairs (1882–1886), and premier (1882–1887). Hākau: son of and successor to Līloa; half-brother and defeated rival of ‘Umi. Hitchcock, Harvey Rexford Jr. (1835–1891): son of American missionaries Harvey Rexford and Rebecca Howard Hitchcock; curator of the Hawaiian National Museum, ca. 1874–1877. Iaukea, Curtis Pi‘ehu (1855–1940): court aid; served as special envoy in Europe, Asia, and the United States in the 1880s; appointed to numerous positions in the administrations of Kalākaua, Lili‘uokalani, the Provisional Government, and the Republic of Hawai‘i. Iwikauikaua: ali‘i nui who, with Keakamahana (mō‘ī of Hawai‘i), fathered Keakealaniwahine (who succeeded as mō‘ī and was the grandmother of Lonoikamakahiki); with Kauakahiakua‘anaauakane (ali‘i nui of O‘ahu), fathered Kaneikauaiwilani. Ka‘ahumanu (ca. 1768–1832): ali‘i nui of Maui and a powerful wife of Kamehameha I; served as kuhina nui, 1819–1832. Kalākaua, David La‘amea (1836–1891): son of Kapa‘akea and Keohokālole (a descendant of both Keaweheulu and Kame‘eiamoku, wealthy and powerful supporters of Kamehameha I); mō‘ī of the Kingdom, 1874–1891.

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Kalama, Hakaleleponi Kapakuhaili (ca. 1817–1870): queen consort; wife of Kamehameha III. Kalanikauleleiaiwi: daughter of Keakealaniwahine and Kauakahiakua‘anaauakane; granddaughter of Iwikauikaua; mō‘ī of Hawai‘i. She bestowed the kapu moe on her nephew Lonoikamakahiki. Kalanimōkū (ca. 1768–1827): son of Kekuamanohā and Kamakahukilani; adviser to Kamehameha I. Kalani‘ōpu‘u: mō‘ī of Hawai‘i; with Kalola fathered Kīwala‘o; grandfather of Keōpūolani (mother of Kamehamehas II and III). Kamakahelei: mō‘ī of Kaua‘i; mother of Kaumuali‘i. Kamāmalu, Victoria (1838–1866): daughter of Kīna‘u and Kekūanaō‘a; sister of Kamehamehas IV and V; kuhina nui, 1855–1863. Kamehameha I (Pai‘ea, d. 1819): son of Keōua and Keku‘iapoiwa; mō‘ī of the kingdom, 1810– 1819. Kamehameha II (Liholiho, ca. 1796–1824): son of Keōpūolani and Kamehameha I; adopted by Ka‘ahumanu; mō‘ī of the kingdom, 1819–1824. Kamehameha III (Kauikeaouli, ca. 1813–1854): son of Keōpūolani and Kamehameha I; mō‘ī of the kingdom, 1825–1854. Kamehameha IV (Alexander Liholiho, 1834–1863): son of Kīna‘u (daughter of Kamehameha I) and Kekūanaō‘a; grandson of Kamehameha I; mō‘ī of the kingdom, 1854–1863. Kamehameha V (Lota Kapuāiwa, 1830–1872): son of Kīna‘u (daughter of Kamehameha I) and Kekūanaō‘a; mō‘ī of the kingdom, 1863–1872. Kana‘ina, Charles (ca. 1800–1877): with Kekāuluohi fathered Lunalilo (mō‘ī of the kingdom); served as a noble in the Legislature. Kapa‘akea, Kaisera (ca. 1817–1866): with Keohokālole fathered Kalākaua, Lili‘uokalani, Likelike, and Leleiōhoku; served as a noble in the Legislature. Kapena, John Makini (1843–1887): son of royal adviser Maniki; scholar of Hawaiian history and culture; served as marshall of the household, collector general of customs, noble, minister of finance, and minister of foreign affairs. Kapi‘olani (1834–1899): queen consort; wife of Kalākaua; granddaughter of Kaumuali‘i. Kaumuali‘i (ca. 1778–1824): son of Kamakahelei (mō‘ī of Kaua‘i) and Kaeokulani; mō‘ī of Kaua‘i, 1794–1810. Keaweaheulu (d. ca. 1804): cousin and adviser to Kamehameha I (one of four ali‘i nui of Hawai‘i who were key to Kamehameha’s political and military success). With Ululani, he fathered Keohohiwa (the mother of ‘Aikanaka). ‘Aikanaka, with Kamae, fathered Ane Keohokālole (mother of Kalākaua). Ke‘eaumoku (d. ca. 1804): son of Keawepoepoe and Kūma‘aikū; grandson of Kalanikauleleiaiwi, mō‘ī of Hawai‘i; great-grandson of Keakealaniwahine (mō‘ī of Hawai‘i). He was one of four ali‘i nui of Hawai‘i who were key to Kamehameha I’s political and military success. Ke‘elikōlani, Ruth (1826–1883): daughter of Kekūanaō‘a and Pauahi (granddaughter of Kalani‘ōpu‘u); great-granddaughter of Kamehameha I; half-sister to Kamehamehas IV and V; served as governor of Hawai‘i. Kekaulike, Victoria Kinoiki (1843–1884): daughter of Kuhio Kalaniana‘ole and Kekaulike Kinoiki (daughter of Kaumuali‘i, mō‘ī of Kaua‘i); sister of Kapi‘olani; served as governor of the island of Hawai‘i.



Appendix

Kekāuluohi, Miriam Auhea (ca. 1794–1845): daughter of Kaheiheimālie (sister of Ka‘ahumanu) and Kalaimamahū (half-brother of Kamehameha I); wife of Kana‘ina; mother of Lunalilo; kuhina nui, 1839–1845. Kekūanaō‘a, Mataio (ca. 1791–1868): son of ‘Inaina and Nahiole‘a; with Kīnau (daughter of Kamehameha I) fathered Kamehamehas IV and V; governor of O‘ahu; kuhina nui, 1863–1864. Keohokālole, Ane (ca. 1814–1869): daughter of ‘Aikanaka and Kamae; descendant of Keaweaheulu; mother of Kalākaua. Keōpūolani: daughter of Kīwala‘o and Keku‘iapoiwa; granddaughter of Kalani‘ōpu‘u (mō‘ī of Hawai‘i) and Kalola; descendant of Kekaulike (mō‘ī of Maui); wife of Kamehameha I; mother of Kamehamehas II and III. Kiha: son of Neula and Kauholanuimahi; descendant of Pili; with Neula, fathered Līloa; mō‘ī of Hawai‘i. Ki‘i: twelfth-generation descendant of Wākea (“Sky Father,” the first man and source of highranking lineages). Kīna‘u (d. 1839): daughter of Kamehameha I and Kaheiheimālie; wife of Kekūanaō‘a; mother of Kamehamehas IV and V; kuhina nui, 1832–1839. Kīwala‘o: son and successor of Kalani‘ōpu‘u (mō‘ī of Hawai‘i) and Kalola (daughter of Kekaulike, mō‘ī of Maui); defeated rival and cousin of Kamehameha I. La‘amaikahiki: chief of the voyaging era, from Kahiki (possibly Raiatea of the Society Islands). Likelike, Miriam Kapili Kekāuluohi (1851–1887): daughter of Keohokālole and Kapa‘akea; sister of Kalākaua; wife of Scotsman Archibald S. Cleghorn; mother of Ka‘iulani (last heir to the throne). Lili‘uokalani (Lydia Kamaka‘eha Dominis, 1838–1917): daughter of Keohokālole and Kapa‘akea; sister of Kalākaua; wife of American-born John O. Dominis; mō‘ī of the kingdom, 1891–1893. Līloa: son and successor to Kiha as mō‘ī of Hawai‘i; with Akahiakuleana fathered ‘Umi. Lonoikamakahiki (Ka‘ī‘imamao): son of Keaweikekahiali‘iokamoku and Lonoma‘aikānaka; grandson of the kapu mō‘ī Keakealaniwahine; sixth-generation descendant of ‘Umi. Lonoikamakahiki: son of Keawenuia‘umi and Haokalani; grandson of ‘Umi; ali‘i nui of Hawai‘i. Lunalilo, William Charles (1835–1874): son of Kekāuluohi and Kana‘ina; mō‘ī of the kingdom, 1873–1874. Manokalanipo: son of Kukona and Laupuapuama‘a; son-in-law of Makali‘i (a chief and navigator of the voyaging era); descendant of La‘amaikahiki; mō‘ī of Kaua‘i; ancestor of Kapi‘olani. Moreno, Celso Cesare (1830–1901): naturalized American citizen of Italian origin; arrived in Hawai‘i 1979; briefly served as minister of foreign affairs, 1880. Nākuina, Emma Metcalf Beckley (1847–1929): daughter of Theophilus Metcalf and Kā‘ilikapuolono; scholar of Hawaiian culture and history; curator of the Hawaiian National Museum and Library, ca. 1882–ca. 1891. Pa‘ao: priest and high chief who voyaged to Hawai‘i from Kahiki; established the powerful priestly class and contributed to establishing the genealogical basis of authority.

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Pākī, Abner (ca. 1808–1855): grandson of Kamehamehanui (Maui mō‘ī and brother of Kahekili); husband of Konia (a granddaughter of Kamehameha I); father of Bernice Pauahi; served in the Privy Council and as royal chamberlain. Pili: chiefly voyager from Kahiki; established the sacred chiefly lineages of the island of Hawai‘i. Po‘omaikelani, Virginia Kapo‘oloku (1839–1895): daughter of Kuhio Kalaniana‘ole and Kekaulike Kinoike; granddaughter of Kaumuali‘i (mō‘ī of Kaua‘i); elder sister of Kapi‘olani; served as governor of Kaua‘i; appointed guardian of the Royal Tombs and the president of the Board of Genealogy of Hawaiian Chiefs. Rooke, Emma Kaleleonālani Naea (1836–1885): daughter of George Naea (nephew of Kamehameha I) and Fanny Kekelaokalani Young (daughter of John Young and Ka‘ō‘anā‘eha); adopted and raised by Grace Kama‘iku‘i and T. C. B. Rooke (Englishman); wife of Kamehameha IV; queen consort, 1856–1863. ‘Umi: son of Līloa (mō‘ī of Hawai‘i) and Akahiakuleana; grandson of Kiha; ancestor of Lonoikamakahiki (Ka‘ī ‘imamao). Vancouver, George (1757–1798): Captain in the British Royal Navy; landed in the Hawaiian Islands while serving Captain James Cook’s third Pacific voyage; visited the archipelago three additional times between 1792 and 1794. Young, John (Olohana, ca. 1742–1835): husband of Ka‘ō‘anā‘eha (Kamehameha I’s niece); grandfather of Queen Emma; haole adviser to Kamehameha I; served as governor of Hawai‘i. Young, John, II (Keoni Ana, ca.1812–1857): son of Ka‘ō‘anā‘eha and John Young; married Julia Alapa‘i Kauwā; served as noble, in Privy Council, as kuhina nui from 1845 to 1855, and governor of Maui.

Notes

Abbreviations ABCFM: AH: BPBM: BPBM-ED: BPRO: FIP: FO: FO & Ex: HMCS: USDS:

American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions State Archives of Hawai‘i Bernice Pauahi Bishop Museum Bernice Pauahi Bishop Museum—Ethnology Database British Public Record Office Friends of ‘Iolani Palace Foreign Office, State Archives of Hawai‘i Foreign Office and Executive File, State Archives of Hawai‘i Hawaiian Mission Children’s Society U.S. Department of State Archives

Introduction 1. In the original quote, the author writes the word “kanaka,” a reference to “Native Hawaiian.” In keeping with the spirit of his comment, I believe he meant to write “haole,” or “foreigner.” “Haole” originally referred to any foreigner but during the nineteenth century came to denote people of European or American descent (Pukui, Elbert, and Mookini 1975, 23). 2. Bosseront d’Anglade 1987, 64–65. Mariel Gabriel Bosseront d’Anglade was a Frenchman who lived in Hawai‘i from 1889 to 1893. During this time he served as consul, then commissioner, of the French Legation in Honolulu. He published his reflections on the last years of the Hawaiian monarchy under the pseudonym G. Sauvin. 3. Twain 1937, 85. 4. E. Buck 1993, 100. 5. These states had, however, established formal representation in Hawai‘i in the earlier part of the century. The United States appointed John C. Jones Jr. as “Agent of the United States for Commerce and Seamen” to represent its interests in the Islands in 1820; the British Foreign Office made Captain Richard Charlton “British Consul for the Sandwich, Society and Friendly Islands” in 1824; and Jules Dudoit was appointed honorary consul by the French government in 1837 (Kuykendall 1938, 80, 98, 150). 6. Munro 1993, 115–117. 7. On precontact Native population and its decimation, see Bushnell 1993; Kame‘eleihiwa 1992, 81; Osorio 2002, 9–10; Schmitt 1977; Stannard 1989. 8. Ralston 1971, 39, 48.

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9. Kamakau 1961, 400, 411–412. 10. Daggett 1990, 64. Daggett served as American minister to Hawai‘i from 1882 to 1885. 11. Frequently cited examples include Alexander 1891; Daws 1968; Jarves 1872; Kuykendall 1938, 1966, 1967; Kuykendall and Day 1948. 12. See Dening 1995, 28–30; Silva 2004, 5–6. 13. Silva 2004, 89. 14. David J. Baker (1997) discusses this historical distortion in the context of contemporary tourists’ ignorance of the overthrow of the Hawaiian monarchy in 1893. 15. See, for example, Allen 1994; Charlot 1985; Frowe 1937; Hooper 1980; Osorio 2002; Rose 1980a; Schweizer 1991; Tatar 1982; Zambucka 1983. 16. See Dirks 1992, 3; Said 1994, 56–58, 215. 17. Important contributions include E. Buck 1993; Chapin 1996; Charlot 1982, 1983, 1987; Kaeppler 1985, 1993; Kaeppler and Nimmo 1976; Kame‘eleihiwa 1992; Kanahele 1979; Kualapai 2001; Merry 2000; Osorio 2002; Schweizer 1991, 2002; Silva 2004; Stillman 1982, 1989; Williamson 1976; Wood 1999. 18. Dening 1995, 14–16; Dening 2000, 135–138; Said 1994, 3. 19. White 2003, 164. 20. Sharrad 2002, 113; see Wendt 1987, 79. 21. Art historical studies focused on the contact period in Polynesia include D’Alleva 1997; Douglas 1999; Joppien and Smith 1985; Smith 1960; Stevenson 1988. On Western representations of Hawaiian people and landscapes, see Forbes 1992b; Kaeppler 1970; Liebersohn 1999; and Nordyke 1999. On contemporary Hawaiian and Polynesian art, see Clark 1998, 2003; Drexel 1998; Jahnke 1999; Jones 1992; Kosasa 1998; Mallon and Pereira 1997, 2002; Mané-Wheoki 1995; Moriarty 1995; Stevenson 1992, 2001, 2002, 2004; Thomas 1995, 1996a, 1996b. 22. Thomas 1997, 42–43. Important exceptions regarding colonial Polynesian visual culture include D’Alleva 2005; Küchler 2003; Neich 1993; Thomas 1999. Regarding Aboriginal artists in nineteenth-century Australia, see Sayers 1994. 23. D’Alleva 1998, 95–96. 24. See, for example, Margaret Jolly’s (2001) comparison of national identities in Vanuatu, New Caledonia, Aotearoa (New Zealand), and Australia as articulated through visual culture, museums, and cultural centers. 25. See Eisenstadt 1973a, 126–133 on “charismatic symbols” and Ortner 1973 on “key symbols.” 26. Marazzi (1999, 391–396) is concerned with the power of visual images disseminated globally, writing that they are at the forefront of social debates and confrontations everywhere. He therefore suggests their study be privileged. See Eisenstadt 1973a, 130–133. 27. See R. Foster 1997, 20; Hobsbawm 1983, 7; LiPuma 1997, 52. 28. AlSayyad 1992, 5. 29. Fitch 1887, 123; see E. Buck 1993, 75. 30. See F. Keesing 1945, 152–153. 31. E.g., Oliver 1961, 363–367; see Jolly 1992; Phillips and Steiner 1999. 32. Stoler 1992: 340. See Eisenstadt 1973, 91–115; Grimshaw 1997, 124; Merle 1997, 131; Munro 1993, 120–121; Thomas 1994, 8–9; Thomas 1997, 16–17, 46–51.



Notes to Pages 9–11

33. C. A. Valentine (1963) and Jocelyn Linnekin (1991a) present detailed analyses of different colonizing strategies and diverse outcomes of colonization in Oceania. Valentine contrasts colonial projects and indigenous responses in numerous Pacific Basin contexts and finds that colonial impact was far from uniform. Linnekin contrasts the conditions leading to the overthrow of the Hawaiian monarchy in 1893 with the Samoan resilience to similar efforts. While recognizing the role of expanding global capitalism, she particularizes her discussion of Hawai‘i by identifying key factors unique to its history that made the kingdom vulnerable to colonization: geographic location; the impact of disease; the ideology of “stranger kings” (Sahlins 1981); the strategic value of hypergamy (Sahlins 1981 and 1985, 1–31); its political organization as a centralized chiefdom; and the overthrow of the Native religion, as a state religion, early in the contact period. 34. See Thomas 1991a, 83–87. In a similar vein, Shmuel N. Eisenstadt’s (1973a, 105) sociological discussion of modernization theory and developing societies critiques the position that all societies naturally aim to modernize via westernizing models. This view discounts the “possibility of alternative models which may develop according to possibilities inherent in the ‘traditions’ of these societies and in changing international constellations.” Further, Eisenstadt argues that the overly determinative and ahistorical “westernization” model of modernization discredits the possibility of local choice and agency. 35. See Dirks 1992, 10; Hanlon 1997, 296; King 1992, 343. 36. AlSayyad 1992, 19; see R. Keesing 1989. 37. Pacific historian Bronwen Douglas (1993, 20) writes: “The emergence of ‘Polynesian kingdoms’ during the early years of European contact in Tahiti and Hawaii has conventionally been attributed to European influence and manipulation; it is now clear, however, that the presence of Europeans, whatever their own presuppositions and intentions, provided no more than contexts and opportunities for the working out of indigenous motivations and tendencies.” For detailed discussions of a range of Oceanic case studies, see Campbell 1982; McPherson 2001; Munro 1993; Quanchi 1993; Stevenson 1988. 38. Gast 1973. 39. Kame‘eleihiwa 1992, 145–146; Sahlins 1981, 30–55. 40. Throughout the century, rather than being unequivocally opposed to all haole, Native leaders sought to secure their trust and allegiance by bestowing upon them land grants, political offices, and trade advantages (Osorio 2002, 41, 52, 70). 41. See Bailey 1980 and Adler and Kamins 1986 for biographies of Gibson. Adler and Barrett (1973) published Gibson’s journal entries for 1886 and 1887. 42. 31 January 1862, quoted in Hooper 1980, 48–49. 43. See Gibson Journal 1856, 400 in Adler and Kamins 1986, 29–30; Gibson Journal, 31 January 1862, in Bailey 1980, 130–131. 44. Adler and Kamins 1986, 29–30. 45. Kuykendall (1967, 256) notes on Kalākaua’s quiet reservations regarding Gibson. In a conversation with a British admiral, Kalākaua is reported to have remarked that the “word of his Foreign Minister was not always to be relied on” (Wodehouse to FO, no. 20, treaty, private and confidential, 27 November 1883, BPRO, FO 58/183).

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Notes to Pages 11–15

46. The kapu system, based on mana, ordered the political and social hierarchy and dictated relationships between people through a complex structure of prohibitions on actions and property. 47. Kame‘eleihiwa 1992, 152–157. Through the first half of the century, as Native Hawaiians succumbed to introduced diseases and were increasingly alienated from their chiefs, they accepted Christianity, as the old gods seemed to have abandoned them. By mid-century, nearly all Hawaiians were members of some Christian faith (Schmitt 1977, 35). 48. Several decades earlier, in 1839, Kauikeaouli established the Chiefs’ Children’s School (later renamed the Royal School) run by haole missionary educators to train young chiefs whose lineages made them eligible rulers (see Menton 1992; Richards 1970). 49. Kame‘eleihiwa 1992; Merry 2000, 13–15; Osorio 2002, 13. 50. E. Buck 1993, 104–106. 51. Emma’s Hawaiian name was Kalanikaumakaamano, and later, after the deaths of Alexander Liholiho and their son Albert Edward Kauikeaouli Leiopapa a Kamehameha, Kaleleonālani. She was a great-grandniece of Kamehameha I. 52. Kanahele 1999, 293–325. 53. Osorio 2002, 159–168, 180–198. 54. See Adams 1993, 33; Cooper and Stoler 1989, 609; Quanchi 1993, 36; Stoler 1992; Thomas 1994, 2–3, 57–58. In his discussion of the movement of people, ideas, and things from Western homelands to their Pacific Island destinations, Ron Adams presents the following quote from Toynbee’s A Study of History: [O]verseas migrations have in common one and the same simple fact: in transmarine migration the social apparatus of the migrants has to be unpacked again at the end of the voyage. All kinds of apparatus—persons and property, techniques and institutions, and ideas—are subject to this law. Anything that cannot stand the sea voyage at all has to be left behind, and many things—not only material objects—which the migrants do take with them, have to be taken to pieces, never perhaps to be reassembled in this original form. When unpacked, they are found to have suffered a ‘sea change into something rich and strange.’

55. Kualapai 2001, i, 51–66. 56. Chapin 1996, 41–52. 57. The Pacific Commercial Advertiser was the government mouthpiece for much of Kalākaua’s reign in the 1870s and 1880s. 58. Field 1937. 59. She married Bishop in 1850 against the objections of her parents, who preferred that she marry an ali‘i nui, notably Lota Kapuāiwa (J. Williams 1999, 48). 60. North American Review, January 1828, 68, quoted in Heffernan 1988, 214. Heffernan explores American views about U.S.–Hawai‘i relations as revealed in nineteenth-century book reviews published in the North American Review. The Review was first issued in 1815 in Boston and came to be one of the most influential journals in the United States. Book reviews were popular vehicles for expressing opinions and presenting editorials, often thinly related to the publications being assessed.



Notes to Pages 15–17

61. Heffernan 1988, 210, 218; Schweizer 1991, 106; and Schweizer 2002, 162–163. 62. E.g., George Ticknor Curtis in Heffernan 1988, 218–219. 63. Quoted in Towse 1916, 127. This message was restated in President Tyler’s address to Congress at the end of the year and was included in John Quincy Adams’ Foreign Relations report. Webster’s statement was again employed in a later North American Review debate, entitled “The Hawaiian Situation” (1893), between those contesting and those supporting the overthrow of Queen Lili‘uokalani and the monarchy (Chamberlain 1893; Stevens 1893; Springer 1893). 64. Love 2004, 84–95. Love notes that until 1898, every attempt by the United States to possess territories with large nonwhite populations failed. He suggests race was central to each incident. In 1898, arguments to incorporate Hawai‘i into the United States emphasized the dwindling Native population, assured restrictions on and control of the Chinese and Japanese immigrant communities, and stressed the whiteness of Hawai‘i (ibid., 7, 13, 20; see Stevens 1893). 65. See Linnekin 1991a, 205–207. 66. Thomas 1997, 38. 67. See Bhabha 1994; Gupta and Ferguson 1992; Merry 2000; Pratt 1992; Said 1994; White 2003. 68. Hannerz 1992; Gupta and Ferguson 1992. 69. Bhabha 1994, 29, 113–114; Merry 2000, 29. For related discussions of identities as processes of construction and deconstruction, contestation, and negotiation, see Anderson 1983; R. Foster 1991a, 235–236, 1997, 2–6; Gillis 1994, 4–5; Greenwood 1982; Hall 1997; Handler 1985a, 1985b, 1986, 1994; Kelly and Kaplan 2001; Linnekin 1983, 1990a, 1991b; Linnekin and Handler 1984; Thomas 1997. Said (1994, xxv, 15–18, 32) urges abandoning static notions of identity, saying the persistence of “us/them” dichotomies is a relic of nineteenth-century imperial cultural identities. Rather than speaking of “identity” as a noun, anthropologist Richard Handler (1994, 29) suggests it be regarded as a “verb indicating process, intercommunication, and the ongoing construction and reconstruction of boundaries that are symbolic and not naturally given.” Moreover, he questions the universal application of the concept of identity. He suggests that “identity”—understood as bounded distinctiveness—is a recent Western concept based on individual metaphors (i.e., collectivities imaged as “human individuals writ large”) and that many cultures do not share the notion. 70. See Appadurai 1990; R. Foster 1991a; Hannerz 1987, 1989a, 1989b, 1996. 71. During 1992; cf. Akst 2003. 72. Dirks 1992, 14; Sahlins 1999, 5. See Adas 1992; Certeau 1984; Chappell 2000; Levine 1977; Silva 2004, 6–7. 73. Merry 2000, 3–20; Said 1994, 243–244. 74. Sahlins 1999, 10, 16. This argument recalls that of Ulf Hannerz (1987, 1989a, 1989b), who identified two general responses to the question of whether global flows of images, objects, and people create uniformity among cultures or engender cultural variety: the “radical diffusionists,” who see the dissemination of cultural forms as resulting in cultural homogenization, and the “ecumenicists,” who, without discounting power imbalances, suggest the global spread of images and practices becomes indigenized—recontextualized

193

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Notes to Pages 18–22

75. 76.

77. 78.

79. 80. 81. 82. 83. 84. 85. 86. 87. 88.

89.

90.

91. 92. 93.

within local communicative structures—and constantly generates new diversities (in R. Foster 1991a, 251–252). See Bird 1875, 431. Relevant studies on Hawaiian religions include Aiona 1959 (Ho‘omana Na‘auao); Alexander 1972 (Baha‘i); Hunter 1971 (Buddhism); and Karpiel 1996 (Theosophy). See also Adler 1970 for discussion of Kalākaua’s Jewish spiritual adviser, Elias Abraham Rosenberg. Gibson Diary, 1 February 1887, in Adler and Barrett 1973, 120–121; see Pacific Commercial Advertiser, 26 January 1887. Unlike Likelike, Ruth Ke‘elikōlani, half-sister of Kamehamehas IV and V, displayed an outward contempt for haole religion. Several years earlier, in 1882, she erected an altar and provided offerings to Pele to stop a lava flow from Mauna Loa. The lava did indeed halt on the edge of Hilo, resulting in a renewed faith in the old gods among the Native populace (Daggett 1990, 42–43). Quoted in Greer 1971, 105. Quoted in Greer 1971, 90. Chapin 1996, 59–62. See Silva 2004, 45–86. Silva 2004, 87–122. Charlot 1985. Article I, Constitution and By-Laws of the Hale Naua or Temple of Science (Hale Nauā Society 1890). See Karpiel 1999. See Adler and Barrett 1973, 85; Daws 1980, 152–153; Grant 1990, v; Karpiel 1999, 174– 175. Silva 2004: 107, 224. LiPuma 1997, 36. Handler 1985b, 1988. See Herzfeld 1986; Kapferer 1988, 80; Linnekin and Handler 1984, 283; Yengoyan 1994, 62–63. Discussions of the ways nationalisms are highly differentiated in their forms and substance and historically and culturally determined include R. Foster 1991a, 1991b, 1997; Fox 1990, 3–4; Hobsbawm 1990; Kapferer 1988, 1989; LiPuma 1997. Marques 1913 in E. Buck 1993, 111; see Schweizer 1991, 109. Dr. Auguste Marques, a royalist supporter and active Theosophist in Honolulu, was also an amateur ethnomusicologist. He was invited by Kalākaua to observe the hula and chant performances for the coronation (E. Buck 1993, 111; see Karpiel 1996, 180–182). On Kalākaua’s involvement in reawakening performance, as well as opposition to him, see E. Buck 1993, 113, 156, 189; Charlot 1985; Kaeppler 1987; Stillman 1989. Rose 1980a, 194, 215. Kalākaua’s ki-leaf cloaks now in the Bernice Pauahi Bishop Museum (Honolulu) were made and used for his “Historical Procession” in 1886 (Brigham 1903, 62). E.g., Aubertine 1888 in Adler and Barrett 1973, 74; Brassey 1881; Coote 1882; Wells 1885, 28–30; Wright 1883, 21–22. Grant 1990, iv–v. Roger Rose (1980a, 215) identifies some of the sources on which Kalākaua drew as Abraham Fornander, W. D. Alexander, and Emma Nākuina Beckley. Daggett 1990, 32; Grant 1990, v–vi.



94. 95. 96. 97. 98. 99.

100 . 1 01. 102. 103.

104. 105 . 106.

107.

Notes to Pages 22–28

Grant 1990, iii. Daggett 1990, 35. See Baker 1997; Blaisdell in Sanburn 1993, 3. Giddens 1994, 182–183; LiPuma 1997, 37. Quigg 1988. Iaukea and Watson 1988, 59–75, 111–125; Adler and Barrett 1973, 12. Hawai‘i had participated in international exhibitions and fairs since the 1860s, but this activity dramatically intensified during Kalākaua’s reign. See Grant 1990, v; Hooper 1980, 45–46; Rose 1980a, 206; Schweizer 1991, 109–112; Taylor 1922, 237. Quoted in Pitzer 1987, 247–248. Armstrong 1904. See Hooper 1980, 46, 53–55; Horn 1951, 59; Joesting 1972, 213; Moreno 1887, 11–12. See also articles published in the Pacific Commercial Advertiser dated 28 October 1881; 19 November 1882; 4 August 1883; 8 September 1883; 17 March 1885. Plans for imperial expansion in Hawai‘i did not originate with Kalākaua. Kamehameha I is reported to have intended to incorporate Tahiti into his kingdom through invasion and strategic marriage (Hooper 1980, 30). Iaukea 1937, 22, 32; Iaukea and Watson 1988, 51–125. A detailed account of the Tsar’s coronation was also published in the Pacific Commercial Advertiser, 9 June 1883. Thomas 1994, 5. See Bird 1875b; Clarke 1888; Dutton 1884; Frank Leslie’s Popular Monthly, “A Polynesian Kingdom,” 1883; Nordhoff 1873; Oliver Optic’s Magazine, “Editorial: King Kalakaua,” 1875; Potter’s American Monthly, “Current Memoranda: Hawaii, or Sandwich Islands,” 1875; Putnam 1874; Sala 1889; Scientific American, “Origin and Progress of Ocean Telegraphy,” 1879; Spring 1891; Wells 1885. Similar accounts published after Kalākaua’s death include Black 1893; Bosseront D’Anglade 1987 [1893]; Herrick 1892; Stevenson 1973; Stoddard 1894. Bhabha 1994, 66–70.

Chapter 1. The Art of Kingship

1. Kingdom of Hawaii, Compiled Laws, 1883, 651–652. The Pacific Commercial Advertiser, the royalist newspaper, later published this text on 17 February 1883, during the coronation celebrations. 2. Kuykendall 1967, 207; Stone 1963, 42. U.S. Minister Comly commented that Moreno was “the inspiration under which His Majesty’s statesmanship is developing” (Comly to Evarts, no. 104, 10 April 1880, U.S. Department of State Archives, Dispatches, Hawaii, vol. 19, in Kuykendall 1967, 208). 3. See Adler and Kamins 1986, 139; Osorio 2002, 199. After a brief interruption in his role as minister of foreign affairs in June 1886, Gibson resumed this role on 13 October 1886 until 1 July 1887. 4. Osorio 2002, 206. 5. Statutes of 1880, Chapters 1, 7, and 37 in Compiled Laws of the Hawaiian Kingdom 1884, 636–639, 654–655; Compiled Laws of the Hawaiian Kingdom 1880, 62, 64, 66.

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6. Hawaiians were primarily responding to Americans (Hawaiian- or foreign-born) who desired annexation to the United States or favored ceding part of Hawai‘i to the United States in return for a continuation of the Reciprocity Treaty, which granted Hawai‘i special tariff privileges in the sugar trade. 7. Pacific Commercial Advertiser, 10 December 1880; Kuykendall 1967, 247–248. 8. See, for example, an eleven-page pamphlet published by one of the candidates, Move! Excel the Highest! The Celebrated Lilikalani Manifesto of the Election Campaign of February 1882. 9. Daws 1968, 197–199; Osorio 2002, 154–157; Putnam 1874. 10. Pacific Commercial Advertiser, 17 February 1883. 11. Lili‘uokalani 1964, 105, 100; see Gibson in Pacific Commercial Advertiser, 10 June 1882. The island of Hawai‘i is at the southeastern extreme of the inhabited Hawaiian archipelago; Kaua‘i is located at the northwestern end. 12. Pacific Commercial Advertiser, 10 June 1882. 13. Proponents also suggested the moneys spent by residents and visitors during the coronation would offset the immediate costs. See Lili‘uokalani 1897, 101; Daggett to Frelinghuysen, no. 11, 20 September 1882, USDS, Dispatches, Hawaii, vol. 20. Although the Coronation Act of 1880 provided $10,000, over $50,000 was actually spent (Kuykendall 1967, 259; Zambucka 1983, 66). 14. Pacific Commercial Advertiser, 17 February 1883. Maile (Alyxia oliveaformis) is a plant with fragrant leaves, frequently used in garlands (lei). Kamakau’s (1991, 54; 1992, 7) descriptions of precontact investiture ceremonies of high chiefs variously mention a symbolic cutting of the navel cord, a ritual of circumcision (subincision), and the playing of sacred drums, all of which took place in a heiau (a place of religious worship). 15. Pacific Commercial Advertiser, 26 August 1882. 16. See FO and Ex, Coronation Documents, 1882, AH. Gibson reiterated his case in his Report of the Minister of Foreign Affairs (1884, 11–12). 17. See Allen 1994, 140; Rose 1980a, 206; Taylor 1922, 237. 18. For a full account of the debate that took place on 7 June 1882 regarding the coronation, see Pacific Commercial Advertiser, 10 June 1882. 19. Draft, Coronation Proclamation, FO & Ex, Coronation Documents, 1882, AH. 20. Pacific Commercial Advertiser, 2 February 1883, 10 February 1883; Hawaiian Gazette, 21 February 1883. 21. Grant 1990, 114–119. 22. FO & Ex, Coronation Documents, 1882, AH; FO & Ex, Coronation Documents, 1883, AH. For published accounts, see Pacific Commercial Advertiser, 2 February, 10 February, and 17 February 1883. Invitations and related correspondence were also sent to Datu Mantri of Johore and Antonio Guzmán Blanco, president of Venezuela, among others. Elaborate invitations were printed by A. Hoffnung and Co. of London, examples of which can be seen in the Hawaiian Historical Society Collection and AH (see Forbes 1992a, 95; Hoffnung to Col. C. H. Judd, 13 November 1882, FO & Ex, Coronation Documents, 1882, AH). 23. The Hawaiian Gazette, 14 February 1883, and the Pacific Commercial Advertiser, 17 February 1883, published full accounts of the coronation ceremony, including the setting,



24.

25. 26. 27. 28.

29. 30.

31. 32. 33. 34. 35. 36.

37.

38. 39. 40.

Notes to Pages 33–38

program, regalia, participants, and attendees; these sources provide much of the material for this analysis. Although the Gazette, the opposition newspaper, did not refrain from peppering its description with adjectives such as “tawdry” and “cheap” and comparing the pavilion and grandstand to a stable, it attempted to offer a somewhat neutral description of the setting. The Advertiser, as the royalist voice, presented a laudatory account. Contractor and builder George Lucas of the Honolulu Planing Mill executed the woodwork for the grandstand and pavilion. His bid indicates the dimensions of the project: “Ground Pavillion [sic] 28 ft. in Diameter, will cover Roof with Tin. Girth of Grand Stand Outside 304 ft. Girth of Grand Stand Inside 168 ft. to have 15 rows of Seats. Dancing Floor to be laid between Pavillion and Stands, Bridge to Front Steps of Palace to be 10x20 ft. Height of Grand Stand in front 20 ft. Height of Grand Stand in Rear 16 ft.” (Lucas, FO & Ex, Coronation Documents, 1882, AH; Pacific Commercial Advertiser, 17 February 1883). Although he contracted to do the work for $4,850, the final cost was $9,000 (Hawaiian Gazette, 14 February 1883; Taylor 1927, 50). Rose 1980a, 210. Rose 1980a, 208. Charlot 1985, 7. The Pacific Commercial Advertiser claimed the wreaths were laurel (17 February 1883), perhaps to indicate the imperial nature of the event; the Hawaiian Gazette described them as fern wreaths (14 February 1883). Allen 1994, 143. Mrs. M. Forsyth Grant (1888, 118–119), who attended the coronation, mentioned that an additional person continued the chant at another point during the ceremony. She indicated a high interest in the performance among Native Hawaiians. Feathers, ‘ahu‘ula, palaoa, and kāhili are the first four items listed by Malo (1951, 76–77) as the foremost valuables of the ancient Hawaiians. E.g., Chalmers in Hoover 1994, C2. Pacific Commercial Advertiser, 17 February 1883. Daggett 1990, 33; Pukui and Elbert 1986, 354. Sahlins 1981, 31. See Beckwith 1970, 311; ‘I‘i 1959, 51–52; Kamakau 1964, 4–10, 22. The kapu system was abolished in 1819 during Liholiho’s reign, and punishment for infringement of kapu was thereafter not strictly enforced. By Kalākaua’s time, kapu titles primarily denoted rank and privilege. Bishop 1958, 10; Rose 1980a, 206; Stone 1963, 42–43. To publicly show their disapproval of the king, Queen Emma, Bernice Pauahi Bishop, and Ruth Ke‘elikōlani, all chiefesses of the Kamehameha lineage, were conspicuously absent from Kalākaua’s coronation ceremony (Allen 1994, 139, 151). Moreover, Ruth hosted a competing function; she scheduled the official opening of her recently completed mansion (built to rival Kalākaua’s ‘Iolani Palace) to precede Kalākaua’s coronation and palace grand opening. Lili‘uokalani 1964, 104–105. Ka Nupepa Kuokoa, 24 February 1883 (emphasis in original). The 1882–1884 appropriation act included $10,000 for the Board of Genealogy of Hawaiian Chiefs. This was one of several items that met with special criticism as

197

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Notes to Pages 38–39

41. 42.

43.

44.

45. 46. 47. 48.

irresponsible spending from the king’s political opponents. Later, during the Special Session of the Legislature held in 1887, the Reform Party (opposing the monarchy) repealed several laws, including this one (Kuykendall 1967, 258–259, 410). Allen 1994, 151–152. Beckwith 1970, 293, 387. According to Beckwith (ibid., 42–49), “Kāne represented the god of procreation and was worshiped as ancestor of chiefs and commoners.” Ulu and Nanaulu were sons of Ki‘i and Hinakoula. Ki‘i was a descendant, twelve generations removed, from Wākea, the personification of the “Sky Father.” Wākea became the first man and the source of all high-ranking genealogies (Kaeppler 1980, 9). Beckwith (1970, 310–312) describes the Kumulipo (“Beginning in the darkness of night, that is, in the spirit world”) genealogy as having two parts, the first of which relates to the period of the po, or spirit world, and the second relates to the world of human beings on earth. The first part describes the origins of various life forms and “the spirit world of the gods, which includes all natural forms.” The second period opens with the breaking of light (ao), the world of humans, and delineates the genealogical history of the Keawe family, ancestors of Kalākaua and Lili‘uokalani. Kalākaua’s text of the Kumulipo can be found in Beckwith 1951. Lili‘uokalani later published an English version in 1897. See also Charlot 1985 and Silva 2004, 97–104, for an analysis of this text. According to Lili‘uokalani’s translation (1897, 4–5), there are three distinct individuals bearing the name of Lonoikamakahiki: (1) the chief also known as Kalaninui‘iamamao, son of Keaweikekahiali‘iokamoku and Lonoma‘aikānaka (see Kamakau 1992, 64, 78); (2) the son of Haokalani and Keawenuia‘umi, who was the son of ‘Umialiloa and Kapukinialiloa (see ibid., 19); and (3) the hunchback son of Kapulehuwaihele and Makakauali‘i. It was the first individual, Kalaninui‘iamamao, for whom the Kumulipo was composed. At birth, this chief was named Lonoikamakahiki by his mother; he was later given the name Ka ‘Ī‘imamao by his paternal grandmother, Keakealaniwahine, when she bestowed on him his kapu ranks (see Beckwith 1951, 8). From him, Kalākaua and Lili‘uokalani claimed descent and traced their genealogy, through Ka ‘Ī‘imamao, to ‘I and then to ‘Umi (see Allen 1994, 258–259; Fornander 1996, 103–104, 125–128; Kamakau 1992, 45, 61, 64; Lili‘uokalani 1897, 4–5). See “The Story of Lono-i-ka-makahiki,” in Kamakau 1992, 47–63 and other accounts in Beckwith 1970, 38–40, 392–394; Fornander 1996, 111–129; ‘I‘i 1959; Kalākaua 1990, 318–331; Rose 1978. Beckwith 1970, 310–313; Kamakau 1991, 155–156; Kamakau 1992, 1–21. Beckwith 1970, 100, 311. Pacific Commercial Advertiser, 17 February 1883. P. Buck 1957, 5, 535; Malo 1951, 47, 77; Rose 1980a, 196. Very early examples of ornaments of this type made of rock oyster shell (Chama iostoma) were excavated at the Bellows Site (018, O‘ahu). Kirch concludes that this form of adornment developed by the end of the first millennium, ca. 600–1100 (the “Developmental Period” in his Hawaiian Cultural Sequence). He suggests this early form (none of which were made of whale ivory) was derived from central Polynesian ornament types and that examples made of whale ivory were a later innovation, when this material was possibly obtained from whaling vessels stopping in Hawai‘i to replenish their supplies (Kirch 1985, 74, 197, 303; see P. Buck 1957, 535 on the introduction of walrus ivory as a medium for the palaoa).



Notes to Pages 39–42

49. Jensen 1977 in Rose 1980a, 196. 50. Rose 1980a, 197. 51. Nākuina n.d. [ca.1882–1887], 7. In her catalogue entry, Nākuina calls this piece “Nalukoki,” which I believe is an error. Other sources name the necklace featured in the battle between Ke‘eaumoku and Kīwala‘ō as “Nanikōkī” (see Kamakau 1992, 16–17). In translation, “Nanikōkī” is a more apt name for the ornament. “Nalu” refers to “wave, surf,” whereas “nani” means “beautiful, pretty, splendid” (Pukui and Elbert 1986, 261). Attached to kōkī, “extremity, tiptop, upper limit” (ibid., 161) and also referencing lofty status, the latter seems a more likely prefix for a chiefly adornment. For further discussion of this piece, see chapter 4. 52. Fornander 1959, 164–165; Kamakau 1992, 5–17. 53. Rose 1980a, 197. 54. Brigham 1899, 14. 55. Malo 1951, 76–77. See Malo 1951, 38–41, and P. Buck 1957, 4, 217–218, for the sources and uses of feathers in Hawaiian art forms. 56. Kalākaua to Col. Hon. C. H. Judd, 10 April 1882, FO & Ex, 1882, Local Officials: King and Royal Family, AH. 57. Kirch 1985, 61. Although most sources date the arrival of Pili and the priest who accompanied him, Pa‘ao, to the twelfth to thirteenth centuries, Kepelino (1932, 20) dates the arrival of Pa‘ao at Kohala, on the island of Hawai‘i, to ca. 1530, “when Umi was king over Hawaii,” or ca. 1600, “in the time of Ke‘li‘iokaloa.” The Pacific Commercial Advertiser (17 February 1883) dated Pili to the early fourteenth century in its description of the coronation kāhili. 58. Beckwith 1970, 372–373; Fornander 1996, 18–22, 33–38; Kalākaua 1990, 47–48. Fornander (1996, 25, 34–35) and Kalākaua (ibid.) believed Kahiki referred to Samoa, while Handy (1930), Kepelino (1932, 58), Kirch (1985, 158), and Malo (1951, 6) suggested Tahiti. 59. Kamakau 1991, 100. 60. Beckwith 1970, 370–375; Kepelino 1932, 58–59; Kirch 1985, 259. Pa‘ao had also voyaged from the south to Hawai‘i on an earlier occasion. He returned to Kahiki “in order to secure a relative of pure blood who can compete in rank as ruling chief with the blueblood families of other islands, Hawaiian chiefs having intermarried carelessly with families of petty chiefs” (Beckwith 1970, 372; see Emerson 1893, 5–13). Pili succeeded in maintaining genealogical purity in the chiefly lines of the island of Hawai‘i through the late nineteenth century. According to David Malo (1951, 6), “Pili (Kaaiea) became one in Hawaii’s line of kings (papa alii).” 61. Kalākaua 1990, 51. 62. Malo (1951, 238) documented the genealogy from Pili to Kauholanuimahi, mō‘ī (paramount chief) of Hawai‘i (see Fornander 1996, 39, 69). According to Fornander, Neula gave birth to the next mō‘ī, Kiha, fathered by Kauholanuimahi. With his mother Neula, Kiha fathered Līloa, who was his heir. ‘Umi was born to Līloa and Akahiakuleana, and he succeeded Līloa as mō‘ī (although by usurpation rather than through inherited rank). Lonoikamakahiki of the Kumulipo was a sixth-generation descendant of ‘Umi. Finally, Kalākaua was the great-great-grandson of Lonoikamakahiki (see Allen 1994).

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Notes to Pages 42–47

63. Beckwith 1970, 370. 64. P. Buck 1957, 107; Malo 1951, 21–25. See Kamakau 1992, 61–62, for the narrative describing the origin of the “Kukui Torches of Iwikauikaua.” 65. See Kalākaua 1990, 334–349, for the complete narrative. 66. Allen 1994, 152–153. 67. Kamakau 1991, 42, 155–159. Iwikauikaua’s ‘aha were named Kanihi, Manawaikawae, and Kapeke‘oua‘ia. The ‘aha also refers to the council of chiefs (by the same name, ‘aha ali‘i or papa ali‘i) who determined and maintained oral records of who were true chiefs with the appropriate genealogy (see Beckwith 1970, 154, 293). Among the chiefs for whom Kamakau (ibid., 155–156; 1992, 64) lists the named ‘aha are Pili, Līloa, ‘Umialīloa, Iwikauikaua, Kalaninui‘īamamao (Lonoikamakahiki or Ka ‘Īamamao), and Lonoma‘aikānaka (the sacred kapu chiefess who was the mother of Ka ‘Īamamao)—all ancestors of Kalākaua. The ‘aha ali‘i seems to date from the time of Pili and Pā‘ao (see Kamakau 1991, 153; Fornander 1996, 63–64). 68. See Kamakau 1992, 62ff.; ‘I‘i 1959, 6, 52; Rose 1978, 51–52. 69. See the Kahakuikamoana version of the “Myth of Papa-Hanau-Moku” in Beckwith 1970, 303. 70. ‘I‘i 1959, 52–53; Kamakau 1964, 5, 10; Malo 1951, 57. 71. ‘I‘i 1959, 52. 72. Board of Genealogy 1886 in Rose 1978, 50. 73. ‘I‘i 1959, 52; Kamakau 1964, 5. 74. Kamakau 1964, 4. 75. More will be said about Kalākaua’s interest in kapu wohi and its relationship to investiture rites below. For a detailed account, see Rose 1978, 45–52. 76. Charlot 1985, 10–11. As sources for this chant, he (ibid., 62) cites Pukui and Korn 1973, 134–149, 221f.; Pukui 1983, no. 1904; see also no. 1889. His reference to fireworks and torchlight parades corresponds to their conspicuous presence in the coronation activities. 77. In Pukui 1995, 128–129. See Pukui and Korn 1973, 166, line 12. 78. Charlot 1985, 63. 79. Charlot 1985, 62, n. 59. See Emerson 1909, 117 cited in ibid., 62, n. 58. 80. Pacific Commercial Advertiser, 17 February 1883; see Buck 1957, 217, 231; Holt 1985, 130; Malo 1951, 77; Moore 1995, 150. 81. It is currently housed in the Bernice Pauahi Bishop Museum in Honolulu (Artifact Number 06828). See Brigham 1899, 58. 82. Jarves 1839, 364 in Brigham 1899, 58. 83. P. Buck 1957, 230–231; Thomas 1995, 164. 84. P. Buck 1957, 216–217; Kaeppler 1985; Rose 1980a, 191. 85. Thomas 1995, 154–161. 86. Brigham 1899, 58. 87. Charlot 1985, 7. 88. Cook 1784, 2: 206. 89. The king ordered these to be made by A. Hoffnung and Company in London (see Invoice of Goods from A. Hoffnung and Co., London, 2 December 1882, FO & Ex, Coronation



90.

91. 92. 93.

94. 95. 96.

97. 98. 99. 100. 101.

102 .

Notes to Pages 47–52

Documents, 1882, AH; Hoffnung to Judd, Coronation Account, 20 November 1882, FO & Ex, Coronation Documents, 1882, AH). These regalia appear to have been modeled after a composite of European prototypes. Some writers claimed the king and queen’s coronation robes were replicas of those worn by Russian tsars and tsarinas and describe the regalia as being fashioned after Imperial Russian emblems (Hall 1967, 16; Taylor 1927, 48). Others indicated British sources (Pacific Commercial Advertiser, 17 February 1883). Invoice of Goods from A. Hoffnung and Co., London, 2 December 1882, FO & Ex, Coronation Documents, 1882, AH. See also Pacific Commercial Advertiser, 17 February 1883. These scrapbooks are housed in the Bishop Museum Archives. See A. Hoffnung to C. H. Judd, 20 November 1882, FO & Ex, Coronation Documents, 1882, AH. See also Rose 1980a, 208. Ibid. Upon his death, the ceremony to transform Kamehameha into a family god (‘aumakua) was performed. Through the early nineteenth century, elaborate rituals were enacted on the anniversary of his death (Charlot 1985, 6; Kepelino 1932, 165; Remy 1862, 124, 152, 198f.; Stewart 1970, 114–120). Kalākaua interred the bundle including the bones and his ring in the Royal Mausoleum on 8 February 1888. However, when it was later proven that these were not in fact the bones of Kamehameha, the ring was given to the care of the Bishop Museum (Ching 1993, 100). Pacific Commercial Advertiser, 17 February 1883. Daggett 1990, 19. Pacific Commercial Advertiser, 17 February 1883. The crowns were ordered from England. The gold used was fifteen and eighteen carats fine. The cost, including the gems, linings made of silk and velvet, and wood case lined with white satin was ₤1013.22 (A. Hoffnung to C. H. Judd, 20 November 1882, FO & Ex, Coronation Documents, 1882, AH). After the overthrow of the monarchy in 1893, Kalākaua’s crown was stolen and vandalized. Restored in 1925 using imitation jewels, it was housed in the State Archives of Hawai‘i and is now on display at the ‘Iolani Palace Gallery with Kapi‘olani’s crown, which remained intact. A beautiful color photograph of Kapi‘olani’s crown was published in Rose 1980a as the frontispiece. Kame‘eleihiwa 1992, 24–25. Bishop 1958, 12. Hoaka is discussed in further detail in the context of ‘Iolani Palace (chapter 2). Pukui, Elbert, and Mookini 1975, 75. See “List of Royal Orders, Hawaiian Islands,” 1886, Historical and Miscellaneous File, 1875–1895, AH; FO & Ex, 1877, Royal Orders, AH; FO & Ex, 1880, Royal Orders, AH; FO & Ex, 1882, Royal Orders, AH; FO & Ex, 1883, Royal Orders, AH; Hawaii State Archives, Government Records Inventories, vol. 5, 1991, 1, AH; and Royal Orders, Kalākaua, Order of, AH. Several of the orders and medals are illustrated in Rose 1980a. Hawaiian monarchs had, in 1848, initiated plans to establish Royal Orders to confer on distinguished local and foreign individuals. It was not until 1865, however, that Kamehameha V created the first Royal Order. This was the only order founded prior to Kalākaua’s reign (Rose 1980a, 208–209).

201

202

Notes to Pages 52–56

103. Bridgwater 1966, 956–957; Moeller 1907–1912. 104. Towse 1916, 125–126; Coombs 1949, 76. See By-Laws of the Lodge le Progrès de l’Océanie, Honolulu, Oahu, S. I. (1846). This lodge was chartered by France in 1843 and was later transferred to the jurisdiction of the Grand Lodge of California in 1905 (Gardiner 1990). There seems to be a relationship between the Freemasons, the Royal Orders, the Hale Nauā, and Hawaiian religious, fraternal, and social organizations that developed in the nineteenth century. The Hale Nauā combined Hawaiian and Masonic images and practices (Forbes 1992a, 116). 105. See Stone 1963, 43; Taylor 1927, 50. 106 . Kalākaua to Lili‘uokalani, February 1883, FO & Ex, Coronation Documents, 1883, AH. 107 . Allen 1994, 147; Bishop 1958, 12; Farrell 1936, 25; Stone 1963, 43; Zambucka 1983, 69. The idea of self-crowning was present elsewhere at the time. The Russian tsar crowned himself and then the tsarina later that same year. 108. Beckwith 1970, 376. 109. Lili‘uokalani 1964, 103; see Allen 1994, 140; Pacific Commercial Advertiser, 17 February 1883. 110. Allen 1994, 147.

Chapter 2. Palaces and Sacred Spaces 1. Farrell 1936, 21; Pacific Commercial Advertiser, 24 September 1881. 2. A notable exception is John Charlot (1979a). Some of the themes introduced by Charlot are developed in this paper. Charles E. Peterson (1963) provides a valuable descriptive chronology detailing the building process and identifies numerous archival references. Many other writings on the palace present descriptions of the building and the events that took place there. 3. Peterson 1963, 91–92. 4. Kuokoa, 30 May 1874. Today, Ali‘iōlani Hale houses the Hawai‘i State Supreme Court. 5. Cabinet Council Minute Book, 17 April 1874, AH; Kuykendall 1953, 204. 6. To date, the original building plans for the palace have not been found. For floor plans of the basement, first floor, and second floor, reconstructing the palace as it stood in 1887, see Friends of ‘Iolani Palace (hereafter FIP) 1972, plates 8, 9, and 10. 7. Pacific Commercial Advertiser, 3 January 1880; Taylor 1927, 27. 8. Baker received a personal request from Kalākaua, through Minister of the Interior Samuel G. Wilder, for plans for a new palace in a letter dated 2 March 1879. See Interior Department File, “Iolani Palace,” AH; Judd 1975, 119. For a detailed account of each architect’s contributions, see Peterson 1963, 96–103. On the expensive architectural corrections, see Hawaiian Gazette, 20 April 1881 and Report of the Minister of the Interior, 1882, 27–28 (in Kuykendall 1967, 204). Ultimately, the palace cost approximately $350,000. For an accounting of expenditures, see “Report of the Finance Committee to the Legislative Assembly of 1882” housed at the Hawaiian Historical Society. 9. Koa (Acacia koa) is a large and valued endemic forest tree. The word “koa” also means “brave, fearless, bravery” and “soldier; martial” (Pukui, Elbert, and Mookini 1975, 67). The wood was often used for weapons and canoes and was associated with great warriors. Kou (Cordia subcordata) is a more common tree with a soft and beautiful wood, found



10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17.

18.

19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26.

27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33.

Notes to Pages 58–61

from East Africa to Polynesia; kou was used for cups, dishes, and containers (ibid., 71). Kamani (Calophyllus inophyllum) is a large tree that produced a highly polished, glossy surface (ibid., 54). ‘Ōhi‘a (Metrosideros macropus) wood is hard and durable and was used for flooring, furniture, sculpture, tools, and weapons (Pukui and Elbert 1986, 199). Pacific Commercial Advertiser, 3 January 1880. Pacific Commercial Advertiser, 24 September 1881. Jay 1992, 19–28. See Neil 1972, 14–16. Hackler 1993, 12; Hoover 1994, C2; Taylor 1927, 39, 45. Pacific Commercial Advertiser, 17 June 1882; also see Pacific Commercial Advertiser, 14 February 1888. Most of the European portraits were sent to Hawai‘i as gifts from the heads of the various countries during the previous decades. They are reproduced in Hackler 1971. See, for example, Kalākaua to C. H. Judd, 10 April 1882, FO & Ex, Local Officials: King and Royal Family, AH. See also Hackler 1971, 39–49; Pacific Commercial Advertiser, 17 June 1882; Stone 1963, 42. George Frear is credited with producing, in 1865, the first hollow concrete blocks in the United States. Ali‘iōlani Hale, the Hawaiian Government Building constructed prior to the palace, utilized this innovation in the 1870s (Frost and Frost 1979, 4, 211–212). On other modern technologies implemented at ‘Iolani, see Daws 1980, 152; Hackler 1993, 7–8. Bell 1998, 29–31; Sahlins 1992, 77. Paradise of the Pacific 1888. See Black 1893, 54, and the Honolulu Business Directory of 1888 for other contemporary descriptions of Honolulu as a significant cosmopolitan center. Arnold 1894, 14; Bosseront d’Anglade 1987, 126–127; Grant 1888, 114–123; Spring 1891, 583–584; Vincent 1885, 137–138; also see Dougherty 1940, 17. Sala 1889, 255. Herrick 1892, 383. Fitch 1887, 123–124. FIP 1979, 10, 16; Pacific Commercial Advertiser, 3 January 1880. See Pacific Commercial Advertiser, 3 January 1880, for a detailed list of the items included in the cornerstone. For a full description of the cornerstone-laying ceremony, see Thrum 1913, 55, and Clemens n.d. The centennial of this event was observed on December 31, 1979 (FIP 1979). Neither the cornerstone nor the time capsule has been located. Stewart 1828, 128, 137. Ellis 1969, 320–321. Brigham 1899, 58; P. Buck 1957, 86; Charlot 1979a, 27–30. Farrell 1936, 13; Pukui and Elbert 1986, 102; Pukui, Elbert, and Mookini 1975, 57; Taylor 1927, 8. Religious restrictions regarding foods and eating were enforced at the hale mua. The chief also maintained the altar to his family deities (‘aumakua) here. ‘I‘i 1959, 119–122; Kamakau 1992, 238; Kirch 1985, 6. Hale ‘Ākala, informally referred to as “The Bungalow,” was a two-story home designed in the style of a north Indian palace. Its name derived from the pink color of the building: hale (“house”) and ‘ākala (“pink”). The building was razed in 1919.

203

204

Notes to Pages 62–66

34. References to these structures include Allen 1978, 9; Harris 1880; Kapena 1879; Kawananakoa 1979, 4; Jay 1992, 18; Pukui, Elbert, and Mookini 1974, 106; Taylor 1927, 11– 12. Other chiefly homes located on the ‘Iolani grounds are identified in Note 66 below. 35. Coote 1882, 91–92. 36. Daggett 1990, 33; Rose 1980a, 167. 37. See letters from Henry W. Severance, Hawaiian consul in San Francisco, to H. A. P. Carter, minister of the interior, 8 and 19 October 1881, AH (see also Peterson 1963, 102). It appears that the Savage Foundry in San Francisco created the initial design for the banister. When Kalākaua was in San Francisco in 1881, he altered the original design, adding the pūlo‘ulo‘u motif. 38. Charlot 1979a, 30. 39. In photographs dating to 1882, the lampposts are absent. Evidenced in later photographs, a pair of lamps, each with a single sphere resembling pūlo‘ulo‘u, was added. Eventually these were replaced with the three-lobed lamps, which can be seen in photographs dating from 1886. 40. ‘I‘i 1959, 58. 41. Bell 1998, 35–43. 42. Allen 1978, 20; Horton 1978, 25; Malo 1951, 29. 43. Farrell 1936, 14; Hackler 1993, 3; Neil 1972, 13; Walpole 1849, 247 in Bell 1998, 41; see also Bille 1863, 2 in Sahlins 1992, 77. 44. Barrère 1975, 16–17. 45. Jay 1992, 26–29; Swenson and Midkiff 1979, 12–13. 46. Barrère 1975, 7–8. 47. Charlot 1979a, 27. 48. Charlot (ibid.) also writes, “The house was built by other experts. A series of ceremonies marked the stages through completion and dedication.” Similar to the cornerstone-laying ceremony, completion of the palace was celebrated with an elaborate Masonic banquet on St. John’s Day, 27 December 1882. Masonic motifs decorated the palace interiors (Charlot 1979a, 30; Poole 1948, 10). The consecration of ‘Iolani Palace through Masonic rites and banquets parallels the performance of rituals by religious specialists during the building and completion of chiefly homes. On royal involvement in Freemasonry in Hawai‘i, see Coombs 1949, 76–79; Gardiner 1990; Grand Lodge of Free and Accepted Masons of Hawaii 1929; Towse 1916, 125–128. 49. Harris 1880; Kapena 1879. Clemens (n.d.) mistakenly identifies the speaker as John A. Makena. The speaker was in fact John Makini Kapena (1843–1887), the son of a royal adviser, Maniki. He married Emma Malo, daughter of David Malo, the noted Hawaiian historian (Stone 1963, 42), and served as minister of finance, minister of foreign affairs, a member of the Board of Education, and collector general of customs under Kalākaua. Kapena was also a scholar of Hawaiian culture (Day 1984, 71). 50. The significance of this location is also mentioned in Black 1981, 18; Chang et al. 1977, 19; Charlot 1979a, 30; Farrell 1936, 13; FIP 1972, 1–2; Mah 1984, 25; Seeley 1962, 105; Taylor 1927, 10; Terry 1986, 16. 51. Bell 1998, 36; ‘I‘i 1959, 64–66; Jay 1992, 19; Kapena 1879. 52. Charlot 1979a, 30; Pukui, Elbert, and Mookini 1975, 195.



53. 54. 55. 56. 57.

58. 59. 60. 61.

62. 63.

64. 65. 66.

67.

68.

69.

Notes to Pages 66–70

Sterling and Summers 1978, 291. Kamakau 1991, 25; Kelsey n.d., 819; see Lyons 1901, 192; McAllister 1933, 82. Kamakau 1865 in Stokes 1991, 33. Hackler 1993, 3; Jay 1992, 19; Kapena 1879. Adler and Barret 1973, 25. Kalākaua did, however, use Healani for numerous social occasions, such as receptions, lū‘au, hula performances, and meetings of his music club. Photographs of the canoe house are housed in the Hawai‘i State Archives. Privy Council meetings were also reportedly held in the king’s library, adjacent to his bedroom, both of which were located on the side of the palace facing the Wai‘anae mountain range (Levine 1981, 2). Daggett 1990, 57. Daggett 1990, 47–48; Fornander 1996, 35. Kirch 2004; see Kepelino 1932, 81 in Kirch 2004; Valeri 1985, 12–18. Hawaiian Ethnological Notes (trans. Mary Kawena Pukui), BPBM Archives, n.d., 1: 799–800. Pukui’s source, Mrs. John Porter, described the eho rocks as made of hard stone that rung when struck. In explaining the saying “Mai ka hikina a ka la ma Kumukahi a ka welona a ka la i Lehua,” (“From the rising sun at Cape Kumu-kahi to its setting at Lehua”), Porter likened the daily journey of the sun to one’s life span. Beckwith 1970, 376. I thank Joshua Bell (personal communication, 2006) for this insight. Bell (1998, 33–35) describes how, for Native leaders, Christian churches adapted the function of the hale mana, sacred houses found in luakini heiau. Referred to as hale mana, churches in the 1820s became sources of mana and a means for ali‘i nui to symbolize and perpetuate their economic and social power. To missionaries, churches marked the landscape with their civilizing impact (Forsythe 1997, 162–167). However, as the last quarter of the century progressed, churches, particularly Kawaiaha‘o, represented the “Missionary Party,” a threat to Native sovereignty. Osorio 2002. Thomas 1994, 155. In addition to Ka‘ahumanu’s frame house in the Pohukaina enclosure (‘I‘i 1959, 158), Lilia Piia Namahana (daughter of one of Kamehameha I’s wives) and chiefess Kekāuluohi also maintained homes here. Ruth Ke‘elikōlani, of the Kamehameha chiefly line, was born in Namahana’s residence in 1826 (Zambucka 1977, 12). Farrell 1936, 46; Kapena 1879; O’Brien 1949, 24. Young, also known as Olohana, served with Kamehameha I’s warrior forces attacking northern Hawai‘i and O‘ahu. He married Kaonaeha, Kamehameha’s niece, and was grandfather to Queen Emma. His accomplished status as an ali‘i is indicated by his burial at Pohukaina in 1835 and, in 1865, his interment at the Royal Mausoleum with Hawai‘i’s chiefs and royalty. Alexander 1894, 160–161; Barrère 1986, 136; FIP 1972, 2; the Friend, November 1865; Greene 1993, n. 53; Judd 1975, 155; Pacific Commercial Advertiser, 4 November 1865; Stokes 1930, 63, 71–72. Hackler 1993, 29–30. For a complete description of the tomb, see the Polynesian, 13 January 1855. Elderly Hawaiians reported in 1848 that many of the caskets contained only stones wrapped in bark cloth and that the chiefly bones had been deposited in

205

206

Notes to Pages 71–76

70. 71. 72. 73.

74. 75. 76. 77. 78. 79. 80. 81. 82.

83. 84. 85. 86.

87. 88. 89. 90. 91.

92.

protected, secret burials, as was customary (O’Brien 1949, 25). The burial mound is presently enclosed by a low brick wall and fence erected in 1930. In 1931, a casket was unearthed near the State Archives Building. It contained a woman’s body accompanied with burial goods indicating her high status (Allen 1978, 5). Kamakau 1964, 38; Sterling and Summers 1978, 175–176. Kamakau 1870 and Kamakau 1964, 38–39. See also Ke Au Hou, 28 June 1911; Sterling and Summers 1978, 152, 175–176. McAllister 1933; Sterling and Summers 1978, 176. Kamakau in P. Buck 1957, 100–101. Kamakau explains that the name of the portal arch as “hoaka” refers to the crescent moon on the second—or hoaka—night of the lunar month. Kaeppler 1985, 109. Cummins 1984, 7–13; Handy 1965, 41; Kaeppler 1982. Andrews 2003 [1865], 160. Pukui, Elbert, and Mookini 1974: 57, 121. For an archaeological description of the Kūki‘i site, see Stokes 1991, 35, 38, 151–153; James 1995, 61. ‘Umi maintained active worship of the gods, enriched the priestly class, and magnified the practices of human sacrifice (Beckwith 1970, 391; Fornander 1996, 100–102). Stokes 1991, 152; see Fornander 1996, 100–101. Dye 1991, 3. Ibid. Integrating the mana of former chiefs into nineteenth-century chiefly architecture is also evidenced in a home called Halekauwila occupied by Kauikeaouli in 1836. Wood from the Hale o Keawe Heiau (at Hōnaunau, North Kona, Hawai‘i) was used in its construction (Seiden 1992, 129). Taylor 1927, 40–41. Allen 1978, 9. This is now Capitol Mall, which fronts the present-day Hawai‘i State Capitol Building. A fifth smaller gateway on Hotel Street near Richards Street (previously known as Palace Walk) was rarely opened and appears to have provided informality and secrecy for the king’s outings. Hawaiian Gazette, 21 February 1883; Pacific Commercial Advertiser, 3 February 1883; ibid., 10 February 1883. See Bell 1998, 33; Valeri 1985, 97. Seiden 1992, 131. Kapena 1879. Reverence for Kalākaua and ‘Iolani Palace was sustained into the twentieth century. David K. Bray (born ca. 1888) was a kahuna who served as a guide at the palace in the mid-twentieth century. He and other elderly Native Hawaiians believed the Throne Room contained a special mana because of its location on the site of ancient heiau. He regularly offered red hibiscus flowers to Kalākaua’s marble bust housed in the palace (Paradise of the Pacific 1955, 11). Harris 1880; Kapena 1879.



Notes to Pages 77–81

Chapter 3. Memorializing the Monarchy

1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8.

9. 10. 11.

12. 13.

14.

Adler 1969a; Charlot 1979b. Adler 1969a, 87. Hawaiian Almanac and Annual 1879, 24. Handy 1965, 41–45. Davis 1816 in Heffernan 1988, 213. Captain C. Davis was a U.S. Merchant Marine. Dutton 1884, 23. Boston Evening Transcript, 28 September 1878. Quotes included in this and the following paragraphs are taken from Gibson’s speech before the Hawaiian Legislature in 1878, which was published in full in the Hawaiian Almanac and Annual 1879, 24–27. Le Goff 1992, 85–99. This sentiment is reflected in the concurrent development of the Hawaiian National Museum (see chapter 4). Pacific Commercial Advertiser, 22 May 1880. See Craven (1984, 204–205) for a biographical sketch of Gould. It is noteworthy that Gould was a Freemason. A New York newspaper described the commission for the monument and noted the Hawaiian kings, since Kauikeaouli, who were Masons. The article indicated a level of regret that “Brother Gibson” had not chosen a New York Mason for the job: “At one time we had hoped that New York could have had the honor of creating this work of art, . . . and that our great Kentuckian, Wilson Macdonald, might have been the sculptor. Nevertheless, the work will be accomplished through Masonic agencies, and will doubtless pass the examination of the Chief Overseer” (New York Dispatch, 1878). J. W. Austin and E. M. Brewer, two former Hawaiian residents living in Boston, were appointed by the committee to oversee the finances of the project and to serve as liaisons (Hawaiian Almanac and Annual 1880, 60; Pacific Commercial Advertiser, 22 May 1880). Boston Evening Transcript, 28 September 1878. Excerpts from this article were published in the Pacific Commercial Advertiser, 9 November 1878. Honolulu Almanac and Advertiser 1880, 61; see the Pacific Commercial Advertiser, 22 May 1880. Upon Gould’s death in 1881, the Pacific Commercial Advertiser (31 December) published an excerpt of his obituary from a Boston newspaper that enumerated many of his works. These included a portrait statue of “War Governor” John A. Andrew (commissioned by the Grand Army of the Republic for Hingham Cemetery); a marble statue of Shakespeare’s Cleopatra; The West Wind (copied for several galleries and exhibited at the Philadelphia Centennial); Timon of Athens; Ariel; John Hancock (exhibited at the Centennial Exposition and later placed in the Lexington Town Hall); two ideal works, Christ and Satan (which were part of the Boston Athenaeum collection); Ghost in Hamlet; and allegories of Steam and Electricity (for the vestibule of the Boston Herald Building). He also executed several portraits: Ralph Waldo Emerson (Harvard Library and Concord Public Library), William Munroe (Concord Public Library), Junius Brutus Booth (Booth’s Theatre, New York) and William Ellery Channing. Pacific Commercial Advertiser, 22 May 1880; see letter from Rebecca S. Gould to Gibson, Boston, 27 May 1883 (FO and Ex, 1879, Statue of Kamehameha I, Documents Re., AH).

207

208

Notes to Pages 81–86

15. Pacific Commercial Advertiser, 22 May 1880. 16. Grewal 1990. 17. Gibson to Gould, 11 November 1878; Gould to Gibson 14 November 1878; Gould to Gibson, 28 January 1879 (FO and Ex, 1879, Statue of Kamehameha I, AH); see Charlot 1979b, 38–39; Hawaiian Gazette, 21 February 1883. 18. Kalākaua 1990, 384–385. 19. D. Mitchell 1969, 5. 20. Osorio 2002 111–116, 150. Lot Kapuāiwa’s speech to the Legislature in 1864 included this statement: “The right to the Throne of this country, originally acquired by conquest and birth, belongs hereditarily to the family of Kamehameha I” (Lydecker 1918, 9 in Osorio 2002, 116). 21. Campbell 1819, 145; Kamakau 1976, 47, 75; Kamakau 1992, 175–189; Kuykendall and Day 1948, 28. 22. Kame‘eleihiwa 1992, 25–26. 23. This characterization of good and bad chiefs is derived from Kamakau’s descriptions of numerous Hawaiian rulers (Kamakau 1991; Kamakau 1992; see also Linnekin 1991a, 223–235; Malo 1951, 61; Pukui and Elbert 1986, 235). For example, he describes as just chiefs and chiefesses Huanuikalāla‘ila‘i, Lu‘anu‘u, Kalamakuaakaipūhōlua, Kalanimanuia, Lupe, Ka‘ihikapuamanuia, Kākuhihewa, Mā‘ilikūkahi, ‘Umi, Līloa, and Keawenuia‘umi. Hākau and Kūamanuia were ineffective leaders (Kamakau 1991, 24, 29, 45, 53–62, 68–70; Kamakau 1992, 36; see also ‘I‘i 1959, 50, on Kauikeaouli as an admirable ruler). Notable chiefs also possessed a magnetic personality and were perceived as being “bred to rule.” They were born of selected stock, set apart from the people, and were understood to be sacred and superior. Chiefs were akua (gods) (Handy 1965, 40). Kamehameha was believed to be so powerful that attempts to kill him through sorcery failed (‘I‘i 1959, 8). 24. Malo 1951, 58. 25. Osorio 2002, 205–206. 26. See Charlot 1985 (chapters 3-4) for a discussion of Kalākaua’s identification with Kamehameha’s active rulership as represented in poetry. 27. Chapin 1996, 59–61. 28. Pacific Commercial Advertiser, 18 April 1874. 29. See Osorio 2002, 178–180; Silva 2004, 89–110. 30. Kaleleonālani to Kaeo, 26 September 1873, private collection of Queen Emma’s correspondence; see also letters of 28 July 1873, 6 January 1874, and 4 February 1876 in Kuykendall 1967, 4, and Korn 1976. 31. Henri Berger, Kalākaua’s bandmaster, composed the music. 32. Charlot 1985, 20–22. 33. Gibson to Gould, 12 November 1878, Brewer to Gibson 13 November 1878, and Gould to Gibson, 14 November 1878 (FO and Ex, Statue of Kamehameha I, Documents Re., AH). See also Charlot 1979b, 38; D. Mitchell 1969, 2–3; Pacific Commercial Advertiser, 22 May 1880. The portraits provided to Gould were a Chinese copy of the original Choris watercolor and an engraved copy reproduced in French explorer Dumont D’Urville’s Les Voyages Pittoresques, the published account of his voyages (Charlot 1979b, 38; Hawaiian



34. 35. 36. 37.

38.

39. 40. 41. 42.

43. 44. 45. 46.

47. 48.

Notes to Pages 86–89

Almanac and Annual 1880, 60; Ronck 1989, B1). For a complete analysis of Choris’ portrait, see Jean Charlot 1958. Clarice Taylor (1947, 25) suggests the likeness represented on the statue was not of Kamehameha but of a chief of the Kalākaua family. Hawaiian Gazette, 21 February 1883. Gould to Gibson, 19 September 1879, FO and Ex, 1879, Statue of Kamehameha I, Documents Re., AH. Gibson to Schaefer, 23 July 1879 (FO and Ex, 1879, Statue of Kamehameha I, Documents Re., AH); Pacific Commercial Advertiser, 22 May 1880. Charlot 1979b, 38. In a letter of 23 July 1879, Gibson identified Hoapili (Robert Hoapili Baker) as the model for the three photographs of a nude Hawaiian. Other sources identify Robert Hoapili Baker as the figure in the two photographs of a Native Hawaiian donning the royal regalia as well (Rose 1978, 41; Ronck 1989, B5) and do not mention John Timoteo Baker. Gould to Gibson, 18 September 1879 (FO and Ex, 1879, Statue of Kamehameha I, Documents Re., AH); Hawaiian Almanac and Annual 1880, 60; see Pacific Commercial Advertiser, 28 November 1907. ‘I‘i 1959, 7. Gibson 1881, 3. ‘I‘i 1959, 64–66. Emma to Kaeo, August 25, 1873; H. A. Peirce (American minister) to Fish, no. 220, 2 September 1873, USDS, Dispatches, Hawaii, Vol. 15, printed Report of the Historical Commission . . . 1928, 29; T. H. Davies (British acting minister) to Granville, no. 9, confidential, 26 August 1873, BPRO, FO 58/136 in Kuykendall 1967, 5. Coronation 1883, 11–15. Brigham 1918, 35–39. Rose 1978, 19–25. A. F. Judd 1917 in Brigham 1918, 32–33. There is some disagreement regarding how Kalākaua obtained the feather sash. Roger Rose (1978, 28–41) details the controversy that surrounded the item and identifies varying accounts of its provenance. The sash was variably believed to have been inherited by Kaumuali‘i through descendants of Līloa; given to Kaumuali‘i by Kamehameha (who inherited it through Līloa) as part of their political agreement securing Kauai‘s allegiance to Kamehameha; one of two, one belonging to each of these chiefs; or passed down the Kamehameha line from Kamehameha I to Kamehameha III. Sources differ as to how Kalākaua later obtained the sash. Some say he demanded it from the retainers of Kaumuali‘i’s descendants. By this account, provided by a guardian (kahu) of Kaumuali‘i’s chiefly regalia, Kalākaua sought and obtained the feather vestment named “Kanikawa” shortly after his election to the throne; he persuaded the guardians to give it to him, arguing that as king he was entitled to it (Brigham 1918, 32–33). Others argue he purchased it from the Kana‘ina estate in 1877; Kauikeaouli allegedly left the sash to his wife, Queen Kalama, who upon her death gave it to Charles Kana‘ina, her maternal uncle and father of King William Charles Lunalilo. Nākuina n.d., 14–15. Fornander 1996, 74; Kamakau 1992, 3. See Beckwith 1970, 300; Fornander 1916–1920, 4: 178–185; Kalākaua 1990, 266; Malo 1951, 259.

209

210

Notes to Pages 90–94

49. Rose 1978, 33, 42–45. Rose cites only one informant as having seen the sash in the museum. It may have been part of the permanent collection, as it was included in an early catalogue prepared by museum curator, Emma Beckley Nākuina (ca.1882–1887). It is likely, however, that Kalākaua either loaned the item to the museum or removed it from the museum to his personal collection. 50. See chapter 2, n. 57. See also Beckwith 1970, 370; Brigham 1918, 38–39; Holt 1985, 161–164; Rose 1978, 1–17, 60–63. Peter H. Buck and Kenneth S. Emory believed Pa‘ao brought the investiture ceremony involving the feather sash to Hawai‘i—but from Raiatea in the Society Islands (Taylor 1947, 26–27). 51. Stokes 1921, 79, 84; Stokes 1925, 28, 34 in Rose 1978, 62. 52. In Rose 1978, 45. 53. Kaumuali‘i was also a descendant of Lonoikamakahiki (Ka‘īamamao), as was his granddaughter, Kapi‘olani (Rose 1978, 49). 54. See Holt 1985, 163–164; Rose 1978, 46–52. 55. Brigham 1918, 37. 56. See Gibson to Gould, 12 November 1878; Gould to Gibson, 4 December 1878; Gould to Brewer 23 April 1879; Gibson to Schaefer, 23 July 1879; Gibson to Schaefer, 23 August 1879; and Gould to Gibson, 19 September 1879 (FO & Ex, 1879, Statue of Kamehameha I, Document Re., AH). See also Brigham 1918, 37–38; Honolulu Advertiser, 25 February 1929; and C. B. Taylor 1947. 57. In Charlot 1985, 21. 58. Charlot 1985, 20–22. 59. Kamakau 1992, 7–9. 60. Silva 2004,113–122. 61. Pacific Commercial Advertiser, 9 October 1880. 62. This decree is also referred to as “Māmala hoa” (Pukui and Elbert 1986, 235). 63. P. Buck 1957, 255; Malo 1951, 131; Kamakau 1992, 187. 64. In Westervelt 1963, 6; see Kamakau 1964, 15–17. 65. Text and translation in Mesick 1934 and Westervelt 1923, 162–175. 66. Pacific Commercial Advertiser, 9 October 1880. 67. Pacific Commercial Advertiser, 11 December 1880. 68. Adler 1969a, 91; Hawaiian Almanac and Annual 1880, 61; Pacific Commercial Advertiser, 22 May 1880; Pacific Commercial Advertiser, 8 October 1880. 69. Osorio (2002) details the failure of Hawaiian rulers, despite sustained efforts and numerous concessions, to secure the cooperation and loyalty of haole residents. A principal source of tension between foreigners and the Hawaiian government was the issue of jurisdiction. Early in the 1800s foreigners submitted, albeit reluctantly, to chiefly authority. However, as the century progressed, they felt themselves exempt from Hawaiian jurisdiction and habitually turned to consular agents to resolve disputes. These agents frequently operated illegally and encouraged their nationals to insist on extraterritorial status (Ralston 1971, 50–51). 70. Marshall S. Gould completed the work subsequent to his father’s death in 1881. While M. S. Gould completed the duplicate, the original, although damaged, was recovered, repaired, and eventually dedicated by Kalākaua at Kohala in May 1883 (see Adler 1969a,



71. 72.

73. 74. 75.

76.

77. 78. 79. 80.

Notes to Pages 94–99

91–93; Baker 1945b; Hawaiian Gazette, 16 May 1883; Pacific Commercial Advertiser, 1 April 1882, 11 May 1883, 27 November 1907, and 27 July 1912). Hawaiian Gazette, 21 February 1883. Kapena also spoke, interpreting Gibson’s speech. The speech was published in an 1883 pamphlet describing the coronation events, Coronation of Their Majesties the King and Queen of the Hawaiian Islands, at Honolulu, Feb. 12th 1883. Pacific Commercial Advertiser, 30 August 1879. Pacific Commercial Advertiser, 19 February 1883. Adler 1969a, 95. Viewers may have perceived the image as a sacred monument. Many years later, in 1938, a proposal to lend the Kamehameha Statue located in Kohala to the 1939 Golden Gate International Exposition was met with great disapproval by local residents, particularly among elderly Native Hawaiians. Some residents referred to it as “a sacred monument” and others recognized it as “Kamehameha’s Tomb, [and] therefore a sacred monument” (Honolulu Advertiser, 4 June 1938 and 11 July 1938). While the sculpture did receive favorable notice internationally, at least one anonymous Boston writer could not avoid ethnically biased comment. Although praising the commission, the author wrote, “[Kamehameha’s] statue will be a most interesting study for the ethnologist,” suggesting the work was not of primary interest to the art critic or historian but as a Hawaiian specimen for ethnological study (Evening Transcript, 28 September 1878). Tominaga 1990, 48–51. Turner 1987, 76. Ibid., 80. Ortner 1973, 1340; see Linnekin 1990a, 158–160.

Chapter 4. (Re)Collecting History 1. See Barringer and Flynn 1998; Benedict 1983; Clifford 1988; Grewal 1990; Mitchell 1992; Rydell 1984; Tawadros 1990. 2. See Anderson and Reeves 1994; Bennett 1988, 76–82; Cummins 1994; Dickenson 1994; Morales-Moreno 1994. 3. See Boylan 1990; Durrans 1988, 151–156; Eyo 1994; Kaeppler 1994; Kaplan 1994b; Murphy 2002; Veracini and Muckle 2003. 4. Pomian (1994) describes collecting as a universal practice, shared by both Western and non-Western societies. He defines a collection as an institution that contains natural or artificial objects that are temporarily or permanently taken out of the economic circuit. These objects are housed in protected spaces and displayed, losing their practical usage value while retaining a newly contextualized exchange value. 5. Cole 1985. 6. Van Keuren 1984, 171–172. 7. See Harris 1990, 84–86. 8. See Boylan 1990, 29; Huyssen 1995, 16; Lumley 1988, 2. 9. Dominguez 1986, 548. 10. Rose 1980b, 1–2. 11. Rooke 1838, 30. On the goals and activities of the Sandwich Island Institute, see the Hawaiian Spectator 1(2) [1838], 27–29, and Ladd 1838.

211

212

Notes to Pages 100–102

12. 13. 14. 15.

16. 17. 18. 19.

20. 21.

22. 23. 24.

Burbank 1927. Hawaiian Almanac and Annual 1931, 40. Harris 1990. This phenomenon was not limited to nineteenth-century America. Alexandre du Sommerand, founder of the Musée de Cluny in Paris (1843), for instance, indicated how an impression of history could be aroused by the display of objects. He observed how medieval objects were privileged over texts in formalizing the history of the Middle Ages (Bann 1984, 78–79). Conn 1998, 13–14. Clifford 1985, 240; see Baudrillard 1968, 135. Grewal 1990. See LiPuma and Meltzoff 1990, 89; Sherman and Rogoff 1994, ix–xiii; Stewart 1984, 162–165. Küchler (1996) suggests that the economy of nineteenth-century collecting consisted of a sacrificial economy in which objects that had originally circulated and had exchange value were taken out of circulation and placed in permanent museum collections. The museum, she argues, “emerged as a vehicle of a sacrificial economy and an aesthetic grounded in a notion of transcendence and spatial and temporal distance” (3–4). She notes that sacrifice is an efficacious representation and that in Polynesia and Melanesia, the destruction of the sacrificial object (especially through decomposition, which is understood as a positive force likened to regeneration) is necessary for the ritual “awakening” and the fashioning of remembrance that is central to the rite (8–9). Hawai‘i had a strong sacrificial economy (see Valeri 1985), and it is quite possible that when objects were placed in a museum context, they did not simply die; rather they were sacrificed in one realm to be efficacious in another. The particular nature of the sacrificial economy of the Hawaiian National Museum requires further research, however, and is beyond the scope of the present study. See Clifford 1985, 238; Harris 1990, 91; Mitchell 1992, 295; Pearce 1992, 4. Little attention has been devoted to the history and function of the Hawaiian National Museum (variously referred to as the Government Museum, the Hawaiian Museum, and the Royal Hawaiian Museum). Roger Rose (1980b), former curator of ethnology at the Bernice Pauahi Bishop Museum in Honolulu, is perhaps the only person who has attended to the history of this institution, in the introduction to his larger work on the Bernice Pauahi Bishop Museum. Laws of His Majesty Kamehameha V 1872, 30–31; see Hawaiian Gazette, 4 September 1872. Roger Rose, personal communication, 1997. Pearce 1992, 107–109. Many Western museum buildings were modeled after classical temples. The exterior appearance of museums has generally been of great importance in the planning of museum projects in terms of presenting a distinct face to the public and the institution’s social and cultural roles. For example, the building competitions for the Prix de Rome, which was to become the École des Beaux Arts, generated many architectural plans that did not so much address the practical needs of the museum but rather concentrated on the symbolic function of the museum as a “Temple of Art” (Holdengräber 1987, 107–108). In her discussion of the museum experience as a ritual



25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31.

32. 33. 34.

35. 36.

37.

Notes to Pages 102–105

one, Duncan (1991, 91) suggests that the classical temple façade was the most popular exterior design chosen for museums for two hundred years; this design had secular ritual associations and, “referring to a pre-Christian world of highly evolved civic institutions, classical-looking buildings could well suggest secular, Enlightenment principles and purposes.” For a thorough treatment of museum architecture, see Pevser 1976, 118ff.; von Holst 1967, 228ff.; Bazin 1967, 197–202; Montaner and Oliveras 1986. See Solà-Moales 1986, 7. See Damisch 1982, 9; Dominguez 1986, 548; Duncan 1991, 88; Duncan and Wallach 1978; Georgel 1994; Holdengräber 1987, 108; Newton 1994, 279; Pearce 1992, 99–100. See Conn 1998, 16, 38–39, 55–59; Findlen 1995, 7; Harris 1990, 89; Holdengräber 1987, 107; Kohlstedt 1988a; Newton 1994, 271; Pearce 1992, 3. HMCS 1969, 114–115. Pacific Commercial Advertiser, 8 November 1875. These were listed in a document entitled, “Different Assortments of Curiosities Received from the Palace this 23rd day of September 1874,” Bishop Museum Archives Ms Doc 17. A catalogue of the initially modest collection was submitted, presumably by Hitchcock, in a ca. 1875 document, “Report of the Curator for the National Museum,” FO & Ex Numbered Documents, no dates, no. 20, AH. Some of the collection remains with the Baldwin family. See Maui Historical Society, http://mauimuseum.org/subpage17.html. Pacific Commercial Advertiser, 16 June 1912. Rose 1976, 3. The museum appropriation was, initially, indeed small, suggesting less than energetic government support. The Hawaiian Almanac and Annual, edited by Thomas G. Thrum, occasionally published the biennial appropriations. For example, the Annual for 1881 reported that a mere $500 was appropriated for the period ending 31 March 1880 (Hawaiian Almanac and Annual 1881, 53). Rose 1980b, 4. Figures published in the Hawaiian Almanac and Annual indicate funding of the museum. An appropriation of $3,000 was secured for the biennial period ending 31 March 1884. In addition to this were appropriations of $3,000 for the “Purchase of Books for the Government Library,” which was connected to the museum, and $2,000 for a “Government Librarian and Curator to the Museum” (Hawaiian Almanac and Annual 1882, 14). Approximately $4,000 in funding was granted during the 1884–1886 biennium. The Almanac for 1887 lists appropriations of $3,000 for “Salary of Librarian and Curator,” $4,000 for the National Museum, and $2,000 for the National Library for the biennial period ending 31 March 1888 (ibid., 1886, 35). When the anti-Royalist Reform Party came to power in July 1887, the special session of the Legislature canceled all funding for the museum and dismissed the curator because they viewed the institution as an unaffordable extravagance. Although the museum continued to receive visitors, lack of support from the Reform government effectively halted further development (Rose 1976, 5–6). Emma Metcalf Beckley Nākuina was first married, in 1867, to Frederick W. Beckley, who was chamberlain in the courts of Lota Kapuāiwa and Kalākaua and served as the governor of Kaua‘i from 1880 until his death in 1881. In 1887, she married the Reverend

213

214

Notes to Pages 105–111

38. 39.

40. 41. 42. 43.

44. 45.

46. 47.

48. 49. 50.

51. 52. 53. 54.

Moses Nākuina, a minister associated with the Hawaiian Board of Missions who collected and published folktales. She held several public offices, including judge of the water court. While serving the royal court, Nākuina was made custodian of the laws of the Kamehamehas and became an authority on ancient Hawaiian law. Though she served the kingdom under the names Beckley and Nākuina, I refer to her by her final name. For biographical references, see Correa 1984; Honolulu Advertiser, 12 June 1910; Kluegel 1930; Nellist 1929. Beckley 1883; Nākuina 1894; Nākuina 1904. Her publications also include Nākuina 1909 and Nākuina and Kawaharada 1994. Kent 1965, 191. The “Catalogue of the Hawaiian National Museum and Library” included at the end of this book constitutes a partial reconstruction of the material and text collections. Clifford 1988, 235. See Clifford 1988, 210ff; Küchler 1996; Price 1989, 5. Küchler 1996, 2; see Feeley-Harnik 1988, 1991. King (1990) discusses the debates over the National Museum of Scotland’s collecting policy that resulted from the declaration of Glasgow as the “European City of Culture” in 1987. Museum administrators realized the difficulties of being “heritage managers” and in determining what to include and omit from the museum’s collection given the task of defining “culture.” Cole 1985, 281–282. The museum initially possessed a small collection of portraits of Hawaiian rulers and notable citizens and European heads of state. While these were identified in an inventory of items received from ‘Iolani Palace in 1874, they were not listed in subsequent inventories. Most were returned to, or repossessed by, the palace, probably by Kalākaua for their display in ‘Iolani Palace. More than two hundred monograph and serial titles housed in the National, or Government, Library were transferred to the Bishop Museum in 1891. Many of these early collectors donated or loaned items to the Hawaiian National Museum. Other contributors included R. W. Meyer, C. J. Lyons, Captain and Mrs. Mist, H. Crabbe, H. R. Hitchcock, S. G. Wilder, A. J. Cartwright, and W. L. Green, prominent citizens of the kingdom. See Lilikalani in Silva 1999, 126. See Barringer and Flynn 1998, 5; Breckenridge 1989; Grewal 1990; and Stocking 1985. The impetus for Hawai‘i to take a leading role in the Pacific Basin did not originate during the Kalākaua era. It began during the reign of Kamehameha III, largely through the ambitions of an Englishman, Charles St. Julian, who had settled in Australia. See Hooper 1980; Horn 1951; Kuykendall 1967, 305–322. FO and Ex, Local Officials: Museum, Agent for Hawaiian, 1884, AH. Damisch 1982, 9. See Hitchcock n.d.; Nākuina n.d.; “Different Assortments of Curiosities Received from the Palace this 23rd day of September 1874,” Bishop Museum Archives Ms Doc 17. See Lowenthal 1979, 103; Shankland 1975, 25–27 in Dickenson 1994, 221. MoralesMoreno (1994, 172–181) describes a similar ideological process at work in the



55. 56. 57.

58. 59. 60. 61. 62.

63. 64. 65. 66. 67.

68. 69.

70.

71. 72. 73. 74.

Notes to Pages 111–116

development of a national museum in nineteenth-century Mexico. In this case, the National Museum in Mexico sought to define a basis for a national identity that would overcome “the ‘colonial stigma’ and the ‘split nature’ of a society that debated its remote indigenous past and its Creole-mestizo present” by praising the achievements of the prehistoric Aztec past and the success of the War of Independence of 1810–1821. Daggett 1990, 19. Nākuina 1904. While the item illustrated in Figure 34 was not part of the Hawaiian National Museum collection, it is similar to one of the museum’s holdings, which can be seen on the BPBM Ethnology Database Web site (BPBM 1067; http://www2.bishopmuseum.org/ ethnologydb/detailed.asp?ARTNO=01067). See also Catalogue No. 96. This is not the Lonoikamakahiki of the Kumulipo. See chapter 1, note 44. Fornander 1917, 291; see Kamakau 1964, 13–14, 22. Fornander 1996, 124–125. Kalākaua 1990, 318–331. See Beckwith 1951, 18–21; Kamakau 1964, 19–20; Kamakau 1992, 61. Kamakau (1964, 7) writes that Lonoikamakahiki was the name of the visible symbol of the god Lononuiakea (a true god, rather than a deified man), possibly referring to the image displayed during the Makahiki season. Although a man, Lonoikamakahiki was, like the true god, “covered (uhi) with bird feathers on the head and had a ka‘upu bird [blackfooted albatross, Phoebastria nigripes] for an ensign (lepa), as a flag of privilege (hae no ka lanakila).” See Beckwith 1970, 307, 322, 363–365; Fornander 1996, 92–94, 291–298. Fornander 1996, 93. George W. R. King, “Native Idols of Kauai: An old kamaaina tells about three of them,” 7 September 1896, Bishop Museum Archives. See also Cox and Davenport 1988, 128. Beckwith 1970, 19–21; Malo 1951, 208. Narratives concerning Maui and Manaiakalani are found in Beckwith 1970, 226–233; Bernice Pauahi Bishop Manuscript Collection L9’ (Poepoe Collection); Dickey 1917, 16–19; Ke Au Okoa, 21 October 1869 (by Kamakau); Kuokoa, 27 June and 4 July 1863 (by Puaoaloa); Thrum 1917, 17–18; Thrum 1923, 248–252; Westervelt 1910, 12ff. Kamakau 1992, 108–109. Kā‘eke, or kā‘eke‘eke, originally referred to coconut tree drums and the act of drumming. In the late nineteenth century it came to mean “bamboo pipes” (Andrews 2003, 226; Pukui and Elbert 1986, 109). Two other drums, named Hāwea and ‘Opuku, are believed to have been found in temples at Holoholokū in Wailua, Kaua‘i, and at Kūkaniloko near Wahiawa, O‘ahu (Kaeppler 1980, 5; Tatar 1993, 16–17; see n. 86 below.). However, their provenance is uncertain. Pahu heiau are contrasted with smaller drums, pahu hula, which were used primarily in connection with performance activities. Kaeppler 1980, 6, 9; Tatar 1993, 18–29; Valeri 1985, 240. See Pukui 1961a in Tatar 1993, 32; Wong 1965, 18 in Kaeppler 1980, 9. Kaeppler 1980, 8–9. Brigham Ms., n.d., 141, 177; Choris 1822, 12 in Tatar 1993, 32, 69–70.

215

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Notes to Pages 116–118

75. 76. 77. 78.

79.

80.

81. 82.

83. 84. 85. 86.

87. 88.

Tatar 1993, 20. Kaeppler 1980, 6. See Kaeppler 1980, 5; Nākuina n.d., 102; Tatar 1993, 69. Early documents describing some of the National Museum’s holdings do mention an ancient drum but do not specify the name: “Kaeke [drum], One large, Ancient Hawaiian,” received from the palace (Hitchcock ca. 1875) and “1 Large kaeke” (1874). Nākuina’s inventory (ca. 1882–1887) is more specific, identifying the drum by name and provenance. Kaeppler (1994, 23–24) notes that the Bishop Museum has retained a sacred quality to the present. During her fourteen years working at the museum, most Native Hawaiians were reluctant to handle chiefly artifacts such as feather garments, god images, and the kāhili (feather standards). Kaeppler 1994, 22. See also Rose 1980b, 8–13. As “‘ike‘ike” also means “to exhibit” or “to bear witness,” this appellation can also be interpreted to demonstrate the great lineage and history of the Kamehameha line of chiefs. Bernice P. Bishop Museum 1892–1893, II: 61. Naniuaola appeared in an exhibition organized by the Hale Nauā on 22 December 1888, as did several other items once displayed by the Hawaiian National Museum (Ms. Doc. 35, Bishop Museum Archives). Tatar 1993, 21–29. Pukui 1995, 50–51. The Hawaiian text reads, “Kani mai ka pahu o mua, He pahu aha lā kēia e kani mai nei? ‘O Emalani ua hānau lā, Eō i kou inoa hānau ē.” Kalākaua Collection Ms., 19 in Tatar 1993, 26–27. Ra‘a, a chief associated with Raiatea and Borabora of the Society Islands, is thought to correspond to La‘a (Fornander 1996, 7). There are several versions of the history of La‘amaikahiki, some of which specify the name of the drum. Two pahu heiau names mentioned are ‘Opuku and Hāwea. The latter figured in Kalākaua’s genealogy chant (above) and was reportedly preserved at the heiau of Holoholokū at Wailua on the island of Kaua‘i by La‘a (Kamakau, Ka Nupepa Kuokoa, 12 January 1867, and Tatar 1993, 16–17). Other versions suggest these drums were kept at heiau on O‘ahu. In her analysis of the drums and the individuals figured in the narratives, Tatar (1993, 16–18) believes these drums preceded the arrival of La‘a, perhaps arriving in Hawai‘i in the eleventh or twelfth centuries. The verity of the claim that Naniuaola was the drum brought by La‘a, the first drum brought to Hawai‘i, is of less significance than its being presented as such by the Hawaiian National Museum. See Beckwith 1970, 16–17, 359; Fornander 1996, 62–63; Kaeppler 1980, 5; Malo 1951, 7–8; Tatar 1993, 13–18. Of the Nanaulu line, Fornander (1996, 46–47) writes, “If Hawaiian traditions are remarkably redundant with the brilliant exploits of princely adventurers from the southern groups, who flocked to this country, or by some means or other insinuated themselves or their descendants on vacant thrones and in prominent positions, they are equally redundant, if not more so, with the adventures and achievements of Hawaiian chiefs of the original Nanaulu line, who roamed over the southern and southwestern groups of the Pacific in quest of fame, of booty, or of new homes.” The desire of Kalākaua



89. 90.

91. 92.

93. 94. 95. 96. 97.

98. 99. 100.

101. 102. 103. 104.

Notes to Pages 118–124

to associate his rule with that of La‘a is akin to those who might, in the United States, connect themselves with the “founding fathers.” Fornander 1996, 12, 55–56. This version of the chant belonged to Pakui, an important priest during the time of Kamehameha I. Fornander 1996, 291–298. Tracing one’s descent to the chiefs of the migratory period of Hawaiian history, ca. 1000–1300, generally indicated one’s association with the origins of Hawaiian culture. This period is characterized as “an era of activity and enterprise” during which many facets of Hawaiian culture were established: various social customs, the political structure, language, temple architecture, the introduction of cosmic deities, the institution of a strict kapu system, the introduction of human sacrifice, certain modes of clothing, symbols of rank (see Fornander 1996, 58–63), the “exaltation of the nobles and the increase of the prerogatives, the separation and immunity of the priestly order, and the systematic setting down, if not actual debasement, of the commoners” (ibid., 63). In addition to seeking out the physical remains of the great Hawaiian chiefs, Kalākaua also avidly collected the regalia of these chiefs (Daws 1980, 152). It seems Lili‘uokalani claimed this garment when she assumed the throne, rather than housing it in the National Museum and permitting it to be transferred to the Bishop Museum in 1891. In his publication on Hawaiian featherwork, Bishop Museum curator William T. Brigham wrote, “Where [the sash] is at present, unless in the possession of Liliuokalani, I do not know” (1899, 81). Records indicate the sash was eventually gained by the Bishop Museum from the Lili‘uokalani collection. See chapter 1, n. 51. Kamakau 1992, 16–17, 121; see Nākuina n.d., 7. Kamakau 1992, 63, 215–217. Nākuina published an account of Pae and the fishhook (Beckley 1884a). Fornander 1996, 72. Kalākaua 1990, 247–315. Other versions of “The Story of the Kihapu” were published by Beckwith (1970, 349); Barrère (1963, 3–5); Emerson (1909, 129–131); Fornander (1916–1920, 4: 558–561; 1996, 72); Kamakau (1991, 19–22); Pukui 2005; Westervelt (1915, 105–111). On Pili (or Pilikaaiea), see chapter 1. See Beckwith 1970, 350–351. Kamakau 1992, 19; see Valeri 1985. Of this chief, Kamakau wrote in 1868, “Kaumuali‘i was a handsome man, light in complexion and with a nose and general features like a white man’s. He was rather slight in build, but he had a good carriage and dressed well. He was gentle in temper, spoke English well, was kind and simple in his ways. It would be well for the nation if there were more chiefs like him” (Kamakau 1961, 254). Kamakau 1992, 194–196. Kuykendall 1938, 49–51; see Day 1984, 71. Nākuina n.d., 18. A photograph of this item can be seen on the BPBM Ethnology Database Web site (http://www2.bishopmuseum.org/ethnologydb/detailed.asp?ARTNO=02297). For a description of Vancouver’s visits to Hawai‘i, see Kamakau 1992, 162–166; Kuykendall 1938, 39–44; Vancouver 1984.

217

218

Notes to Pages 124–133

105. Kamakau 1992, 164 (originally published in Ka Nupepa Kuokoa, 18 May 1867). 106. Kamakau 1992, 180. 107. Kamakau 1964, 129. For detailed accounts of the origins of the kālaipāhoa wood, see Kamakau’s version of the “Legend of Kalaipahoa” (1964, 128–131) and an account he published in Ke Au Okoa, 12 May and 14 July 1870 (in Beckwith 1970, 111–112). 108. Kamakau 1992, 84, 150–151. 109. For further discussion of Kamehameha’s acquisition and patronage of the kālaipāhoa gods, see Beckwith 1970, 19, 109, 114–118; Fornander 1996, 239–240; Kalākaua 1888, 49; Kamakau, Ka Nupepa Kuokoa, 6 July 1867; Kamakau 1964, 135–136; Kamakau 1992, 166, 179. 110. Beckwith in Kamakau 1964, 141. 111. Fornander 1959, 160. Because rank was passed through the maternal line, ‘Umi’s mother Akahiakuleana did not have the status required for her son to be recognized as the true successor of Līloa. 112. Bhabha 1994, 88; also see Bhabha 1998.

Chapter 5. The Artistic Legacy of the Kalākaua Era

1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7.

8. 9.

10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17.

Kuykendall 1967, 207–226; Dougherty 1992, 143–147. Kuykendall 1967, 275–276, 291–293. Kuykendall 1967, 305–343; Osorio 2002, 230–233. Osorio 2002, 206. Ibid., 210–229. Kuykendall 1967, 356–372. See “Bishop Museum’s Kupuna Series Features the Makahiki Season,” press release, 3 January 2005; “Museum Treasures: Legends of the Manaiakalani,” Ka ‘Elele: The Journal of the Bishop Museum, Spring 2006; “Museum Treasures: Legends of the Kiha Pū,” Ka ‘Elele: The Journal of the Bishop Museum, Winter 2006. Hoover 2000; Kelly 2001. For recent newspaper coverage of Kamehameha Day and the King Kamehameha Monument, see Camire 2006; Honolulu Advertiser, 22 June 2005 and 7 June 2006; Hoover 2006; Moreno 2006; Shikina 2006; Vorsino 2005; Watanabe 2005. Dayton 1992; Glauberman 1992a; Kaser 1992; Honolulu Advertiser, 3 August 1992; Waite 1992. Camire 2006. The 1883 stamp is published in Cahill 1987, 18–19. See Honolulu Star-Bulletin, 9 April 2006 and 1 July 2006; Governor Linda Lingle to David Lebryk (acting director, U.S. Mint), 31 August 2006; Gordon 2006. Arakawa 2006; Honolulu Advertiser, 1 October 2006. Travel Weekly, based in New Jersey, published the Celebrity Cruises advertisement in its 18 September 2006 issue, 14–15. See Cataluna 2002; Honolulu Advertiser, 31 August 1992 and 2 September 2003; Pang 2005. See Asato 2004; Boylan 2003; Honolulu Advertiser, 12 November 1992 and 17 November 1992; Hoover 2002. Ronck 1994; Wright 1994.



Notes to Pages 133–146

18. Pang 2006. 19. See, for example, see Honolulu Star-Bulletin, 20 August 2006; Glauberman 1992b; Tanahara and Kresnak 1992. 20. The Hawaiian Kingdom Government’s goals are stated on their Web site, www.higovt. org. On the occupation of ‘Iolani Palace, see Magin 2008; Niesse 2008; Pang 2008. 21. See Glauberman 1992c, 1993; Hee 1993; Neil 1993; Tangonan 1993; Trask 1993. 22. Honolulu Advertiser, 19 January 1993. 23. See Gaonkar (2002) on the Center for Transcultural Studies (University of Chicago). The center’s participants (including Dilip Parameshwar Gaonkar, Arjun Appadurai, Craig Calhoun, Charles Taylor, and Michael Warren) examine the impact of processes of globalization on civil society and the public sphere. In his introduction to a collection of essays published by the center in a special issue of Public Culture, Gaonkar draws on Cornelius Castoriadis’ (1987) discussion of the “social imaginary” and how “people imagine and act as world-making collective agents” through collectively shared significations. 24. Vann 1997. 25. Fraser 1992, 122–123; see Warner 2002, 80–88. 26. Gaonkar 2002; Taylor 2002. 27. See Beamer and Duarte 2006. 28. See Gillis 1994, 17; Layoun 1992, 441; LeGoff 1992, 97–99; LiPuma and Metzoff 1990, 89. 29. Shils 1971, 130–138. 30. Ortner 1973, 1340.

Catalogue of the Hawaiian National Museum and Library 1.



2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7.

8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13.

Since I began work on this catalogue reconstruction several years ago, the BPBM has significantly updated this online database. It now more comprehensively lists material culture associated with the Hawaiian National Museum. Brigham (1899, 28) provides a similar description for BPBM 2816. Brigham (1899, 28) provides a similar description for BPBM 2810. At least twenty-three kapa beaters were included in Hitchcock’s inventory. This entry may correspond to “25 Kapa, figured pieces,” in Hitchcock’s ca. 1875 report. Nākuina may have intended to write “kuiki.” For kapa moe, which consist of several sheets of bark cloth sewn together along one edge, the BPBM 1892–1893 catalogue entries describe the top layer (kilohana) as well as the underlying bark cloth sheets. The BPBM-ED, however, describes this as a very thin, beige piece. Hitchcock’s ca. 1875 report lists two kapa kihei (bark cloth capes). One likely refers to BPBM 2433. The other may correspond to BPBM 2435. The BPBPM-ED describes this piece as red with grey triangles beaten in. One mu‘umu‘u was also listed by Hitchcock. Paipaikukui is a pale yellow kapa from Moloka‘i. This item was listed under “Samoan Kapas” in the BPBM 1892–1893 catalogue, but “Hawaiian?” was included in this entry. The BPBM-ED describes this piece as a Hawaiian bark cloth, made of māmaki.

219

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Notes to Pages 146–150

14. 15. 16.

17. 18. 19.

20. 21.

22. 23. 24.

25. 26. 27. 28.

This item may refer to BPBM 7650 (in Brigham 1906, 82). This item was identified in the 1874 and ca. 1875 sources but was absent in Nākuina’s inventory. It reappears in the later Bishop Museum inventories. Jenkins (1989, 267) identified the accession number for this piece as BPBM 1146. The BPBM-ED, however, attaches this number to a Hawaiian pandanus pillow (uluna) in the J. S. Emerson collection. Nākuina may have intended to write “umeke opaka.” This description may refer to BPBM 1049 or 1050. The BPBM 1892–1893 catalogue identifies this item as a food bowl; Roger Rose (1980a, 182) describes it as an ipu ku‘i lā‘au (medicine pounding bowl), possibly made of kou wood, with dimensions of 37 cm x 25.6 cm. A coconut fiber ring rest belongs with this bowl. This description may correspond to BPBM 4008 or BPBM 5346 below. Na ipu ‘aina, slop basins, “were used to receive the refuse of the food, as fish-bones, banana skins, etc. They were much thicker and heavier than the umeke poi, and those of high chiefs often were inlaid with the teeth or bones of slain enemies. While it was deemed honorable to have one’s bones attached to a kahili or food dish, it was a deep disgrace to the unfortunate man whose solid parts decorated what was looked upon as a vessel of dishonor. The use of human bone was more extensive than is usually supposed, and it arose not from the need of a hard material, since many of the Hawaiian woods would meet all the requirements, but it was a device to gratify the natural feelings of revenge, or in some cases to preserve the memory of a friend or renowned warrior much in the same way that more civilized peoples preserve the hair of a deceased person” (BPBM 1892–1893, II: 15–16). Nākuina’s entry may refer to some of the items included in this section. Ipu mimi are “quite similar in shape [to the ipu kuha], although larger, for other excrementitious matter” (Brigham 1902, 70). “Of the five Kahu alii or personal attendants of an Hawaiian Moi [King] the Ipukuha . . . was the most trustworthy. The very life of the king was endangered if he should prove remiss in duty and allow even the smallest portion of the royal spittle to fall into the hands of an enemy. The instrument he carried, and from which he got his name, was a small box or bowl carved from some choice wood, and in the darkness of night he must empty the daily accumulation into the sea, or should the court be on a journey inland he must with the utmost secrecy bury the possible danger. The clippings of the royal finger-nails went the same way. The inanimate spittoons were held in great esteem, to which their ignoble use would not entitle them in other lands and hence those belonging to Kamehameha I. and other renowned chiefs have been carefully preserved, and are in this Museum” (BPBM 1892–1893, II: 32). This entry may refer to BPBM 4253 and 4254. This description may refer to either BPBM 4271, 4272, and/or BPBM 5347. Note: This item may be “Ancient Stone Mortar,” donated by W. L. Green, in Hitchcock’s ca. 1875 catalogue. This entry probably refers to one of the items listed in this section. The Honolulu Library Association Catalogue (1882) indicates that one of the Museum’s la‘au lomilomi belonged to Kamehameha I.



29. 30. 31. 32. 33. 34. 35. 36.

37.

38. 39. 40. 41. 42. 43. 44. 45. 46. 47. 48. 49. 50. 51.

52.

Notes to Pages 150–156

Hitchcock’s ca. 1875 report includes an “Ancient Stone Candlestick.” This and Nākuina’s entry likely refer to one of the objects listed below. Hitchcock’s ca. 1875 report includes “Tobacco pipes, made from a singular root.” This entry may refer to this item and/or to one or more of the following. This description may refer to any of the three items listed in this section. This and “Polishing stones, 2 ancient” in Hitchcock’s ca. 1875 catalogue probably refer to BPBM 3010 and 3026 below. These likely correspond to some of the items listed below. This entry corresponds to several of the items listed below. Hitchcock’s ca. 1875 report includes two “Hee ho lua.” The Honolulu Library Association Catalogue (1882) identifies a papa kōnane that formerly belonged to Lonoikamakahiki as part of the Hawaiian National Museum’s holdings. Pala‘ie was a game of loop and ball played with a flexible stick made of braided coconut fiber with a loop at one end and a tapa ball on a string attached below the loop; the object was to catch the ball in the loop (Pukui, Elbert, and Mookini 1975, 131). This entry corresponds to the objects of various materials listed below. Seven ‘ulu maika stones were also inventoried by Hitchcock (ca. 1875). A very large portion of the drums in the Bishop Museum collection, as it was constituted in 1892–1893, originated from the Hawaiian National Museum collection. “Six small [kā‘eke], 2 medium, 4 small” were reported received from ‘Iolani Palace in 1874. Hitchcock also mentions these kā‘eke in his ca. 1875 report. This drum was displayed in the Hawaiian Exhibition at the Exposition Universelle, Paris, 1889. Kaeppler notes that the Hawaiian Government exhibited this drum at the New Orleans Exposition in 1885. It was there acquired by the Smithsonian Institution. These photographs correspond to those identified in Hitchcock’s ca. 1875 report as “Idols, Ancient Hawaiian, 6 photographs.” Hitchcock mentions two ancient stone idols from Moloka‘i in his ca. 1875 report. Rose (1980a, 163) notes that at the time this sculpture was purchased for the museum in 1877, it was believed to be Kūkā‘ilimoku, war god of Kamehameha I. This item is included in the 1874 and ca. 1875 sources and may refer to one of the other items listed below in this category. This item is found in the 1874 document and may refer to one of the items listed below in this category. This description may refer to BPBM 1268 or 1277 below. Different documents variously list this item as belonging to the Hawaiian National Museum or the J. S. Emerson collection. This item may correspond to BPBM 4107 in Brigham 1903, 98. In describing BPBM 4107, the BPBM-ED quotes Nākuina’s catalogue entry. The BPBM-ED describes this very large shark hook as being from the Gilbert Islands (Kiribati) and made of wood and cordage. Brigham, in the Bishop Museum catalogue of 1892–1893, lists “BPBM 777” among Hawaiian items. The BPBM-ED describes this book as made of turtle shell.

221

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Notes to Pages 156–162

53.

54. 55. 56.

57. 58. 59.

60. 61. 62. 63. 64. 65. 66. 67. 68. 69. 70. 71. 72. 73. 74. 75.

Bishop Museum records indicate various cultural sources for this item, including Hawai‘i, Samoa, and the Society Islands. Records also note that this lure is associated with Mataiao Kekūanaō‘a and Ke‘elikōlani. This entry may include BPBM 5285, below. See Brigham 1903, 85. See “Umi, the Peasant Prince of Hawaii: The Historic Legends of Liloa, Hakau, and the ‘Kiha-pu,’” in Kalākaua 1990 [1888], 247–315. The 1874 and ca. 1875 sources identify a “Large Kaeke, Ancient Hawaiian,” which was received from ‘Iolani Palace. It appears this item was not readily transferred to the Bishop Museum in 1891. The Bishop Museum catalogue (1892–1893, II: 61) includes this note: “A large drum of this class, of great antiquity and historical interest, was in the government collection, but it has not yet come to this Museum where it lawfully belongs.” See chapter 1, note 51. See Brigham 1903, 14. Rose (1980a, 179) identified this item as an‘umeke palapa‘a (poi bowl) of kou wood. Probably purchased in 1877 for the Hawaiian National Museum from the Charles Kana‘ina estate auction, it was believed to have descended in that family from Kamehameha I, who used it on canoe trips. See also BPBM 6927. See Nākuina’s catalogue description included with BPBM 4143 above. Hitchcock includes the date 1873 in his description of this item. The framed ballot results would therefore be that of Lunalilo’s election as king. This item is described in the 1874 source but is not present in Nākuina’s or the Bishop Museum’s (1892–1893) catalogues. BPBM accession records identify three drums with pedestals as part of the Hawaiian National Museum collection. While the BPBM 1892–1893 catalogue lists this as an item from Micronesia (location unspecified), the more recent museum inventory lists this as Samoan. The current Bishop Museum collections inventory identifies this item as Samoan. Its 1892–1893 catalogue, however, notes the source of this object as the Caroline Islands. Hitchcock included a “Spear and paddle, Samoan” in his catalogue. This may refer to BPBM 3581, 3582, or 3583. Note: All of the Bishop Museum’s Rapa Nui (Easter Island) collection, as constituted in 1892, came from the Hawaiian National Museum. Bishop Museum records indicate this item was originally assigned the artifact number 12,012, which is visible on the object. Nine spears, from “New Zealand, etc.,” are identified in BPBM accession records. The collections inventory of the Bishop Museum identifies this as Samoan. The BPBM 1892–1893 catalogue states this piece is from Mangaia, Hervey Islands (Cook Islands). BPBM accession records include “5 spears, 1 with human bone points,” from New Hebrides (Vanuatu). See Brigham 1903, 31. BPBM accession records identify “2 bows” from the Solomon Islands. One of these likely corresponds to BPBM 1891.001.004.



76. 77. 78. 79. 80. 81. 82.

83. 84. 85. 86.

87. 88.

89. 90. 91. 92. 93.

94.

Notes to Pages 163–174

BPBM accession records include “3 spears. Triangularly carved side” from New Britain. BPBM accession records include “5 spears. Bone points, decorated” from New Britain. BPBM accession records include “5 god images,” in addition to “God image, wood,” from New Britain. Museum records also indicate the Solomon Islands as the origin of this dance paddle. Hitchcock’s report includes “Model, Caroline Island canoe.” The BPBM-ED describes this piece as a shell and quill ornament from Hawai‘i. The Honolulu Advertiser (22 March 1936, 46A) made mention, in its historical feature, “Sixty Years Ago—1876,” of items collected from Kiribati: “J.E. Chamberl[a]in[,] collector[,] curios for Hawaiian Museum[,] writes that the Morning Star (missionary brig) brought up for the Hawaiian Government . . . [t]wo sets Gilbert Island armor . . . with helmets . . . [,] sharks teeth sword and spear, mats and native dresses, eel basket, common fish basket, umbrella coral 3/6˝ in diameter . . . from Apian by Mr. Randolph.” This item was listed in the Hawaiian section of the BPBM 1892–1893 catalogue. The museum currently identifies this as an object from Kiribati. The first eight items without BPBM object numbers were only identified by Hitchcock in his ca. 1875 report. All the following items were included in the 1874 source listing items received from ‘Iolani Palace but were absent from the other primary sources consulted. This painting may correspond to item 6 in BPBM 1892–1893, V: 3. The caption reads, “Kamehameha III. Kauikeaouli, was born at Keauhou, Kona, Hawaii, August 11, 1813, of Keopuolani. He was proclaimed King June 6, 1825, and died December 15, 1854. This portrait was painted in Boston from a daguerrotype.” The list of bird specimens in BPBM 1892–1893 does not include provenance, and they are therefore not included here. The Bishop Museum preliminary catalogue states, “The following marine shells are from the Government Museum and came to this collection either with no labels or with labels evidently inaccurate. The entire absence of any books of reference makes even the Generic names uncertain” (BPBM 1892–1893, IV: 31). It also states, “The marine shells are mainly from the Government collection, but many indigenous species are from Mr. [D. D.] Baldwin [of Maui]” (ibid., 4). The BPBM-ED identifies these as Hawaiian, not Samoan. The list of Hawaiian woods in BPBM 1892–1893 does not include provenance, and they are therefore not included here. The list of New Zealand woods in BPBM 1892–1893 does not include provenance, and they are therefore not included here. The California Woods collection in the Bishop Museum as it was constituted in 1892 came from the Hawaiian National Museum. The collection of Japanese woods in the Bishop Collection as it was constituted in 1892– 1893 came from the Hawaiian National Museum. The preface to this section in the BPBM preliminary catalogue states, “These specimens of Japanese woods are boxed, numbered in Japanese and bear the general number 6474” (BPBM 1892–1893, IV: 40). I am not certain as to what was originally in the Hawaiian National Museum under this category. The specimens in BPBM 1892–1893 did not include provenance. This is also

223

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Notes to Pages 174–181

95.

96. 97.

98. 99.

true for the “New Zealand Ferns” category. Nākuina’s entry for an “edible fern” was the sole entry in her catalogue. All items listed at the beginning of this section, without BPBM object numbers, are taken from Nākuina’s handwritten inventory. These items are there listed with the title, “Hawaiian Geological Specimens, 1st Cabinet,” which indicates there were other cabinets. I have not yet located her records for the rest of this collection. At the time the Hawaiian National Museum’s collection was transferred to the Bishop Museum, Brigham wrote, “Many of the mineralogical specimens from the Government Museum have not yet been unpacked for want of room” (BPBM 1892–1893, IV: 64). The following, therefore, is only a partial list of the Hawaiian National Museum’s holdings of geological specimens. Though Nākuina catalogued the item as from Hawai‘i, Pu‘u‘io is on Maui. The following publications were transferred from the Hawaiian Government Library to the Bishop Museum (BPBM 1892–1893, V). I have reproduced the publication entries mostly as they were presented in the BPBM Preliminary Catalogue. Changes include italicizing book and journal titles, correcting alphabetization of entries, and adding missing information (authors’ names, publication data, etc.) gleaned from Web searches. In addition, the entries are slightly abbreviated, with some changes in punctuation to accomplish uniformity in the bibliographic style employed therein. Identified in Honolulu Library Association 1882. Identified in Hawai‘i State Library Accession Records.

Glossary

‘ahu‘ula: feather cloak reserved for chiefs, high chiefs, and royalty. ali‘i: chief or chiefess. ali‘i nui: high chief or chiefess. haole: foreigner or person of foreign origin. This term, in the nineteenth century, increasingly referred to people of Euro-American descent. heiau: temple, religious structure, or shrine. A place of worship. hinae poepoe: a round basket or woven container. hoaka: crescent, arch; brightness, brilliance, glory; to glitter or shine. ‘io (Buteo solitarius): a hawk endemic to the island of Hawai‘i and associated with high chiefs. ipu: vessel or container. ipu ‘aina: scrap bowl or refuse container. kā‘ai or kā‘ei: sash or cordon. kā‘eke or kā‘eke‘eke: earlier referred to coconut tree drums and the act of drumming. In the late nineteenth century, it came to mean “bamboo pipes.” kāhili: feather standard consisting of a cylinder of feathers carefully tied to stems (hulumanu) surmounting a staff. These ranged in size from small, handheld forms to examples approximately thirty feet high that were displayed on important state occasions such as royal funerals. kahuna: a specialist in a particular field, such as rituals, healing, and sorcery. kalo: taro (Colocasia esculenta), a starchy root staple. kanaka maoli: a person of Native Hawaiian descent. kānāwai: a law or decree. kapa: bark cloth (tapa) made from the bark of trees, usually wauke (paper mulberry, Broussonetia papyrifera) or māmaki (Pipturus spp.). kapu: taboo, sacred, restricted, prohibited. Privilege and exemption from restriction or prohibition. kauhale: a group of buildings making up a domestic compound. kuhina nui: premier; shared executive power with the monarch. Kamehameha V eliminated this office in 1864. kukui: candlenut tree (Aleurites moluccana), or the fruit of this tree; its oily nuts were burned as torches; symbol of enlightenment. Figuratively, guide or leader.

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Glossary

lei: garland or wreath made of a variety of materials, such as feathers, flowers, leaves, shells, or ribbon. mahiole: feather helmet. makau: fishhook. malo: loincloth. mana: spirit, strength, authority, divine power. mele hānau: birth chant. mele inoa: name chant. mele koihonua: genealogical chant. mō‘ī: paramount ruler, sovereign. pahu: drum, chest, box. pahu heiau: temple drum. palaoa: arched neck pendant, usually made of whale tooth. papa hōlua: sled used in the competitive and dangerous sport of sliding down a steep hillside course at rapid speed. pono: good, proper, excellent, morally upright, fair. pūlo‘ulo‘u: a bark-cloth covered ball attached to the top of a staff or spear that was carried before a sacred chief, set before a chiefly residence or religious structure, or erected at places frequented by high chiefs as an insignia of sanctity and chiefly privilege. ‘ulu maika: stone used in a game akin to bowling.

References

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———. 1915. Legends of old Honolulu. Boston: Geo. H. Ellis; London: Constable and Co. ———. 1923. Hawaiian historical legends. New York: Fleming H. Revell Co. ———. 1963 [1903]. The splintered paddle. Paradise of the Pacific 75(1): 6–9, 39–40. White, Geoffrey M. 2003. History, memory, and nation in the (post)colonies. American Anthropologist 105(1): 164–171. White, Geoffrey M., and Chavivun Prachuabmoh. 1983. The cognitive organization of ethnic images. Ethos 11(11-2): 2–32. White, Hayden. 1978. The fictions of factual representation. In Tropics of discourse: Essays in cultural criticism, 121–134. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press. Williams, Julie Steward. 1999. Princess Bernice Pauahi Bishop. Honolulu: Kamehameha Schools Press. Williams, Raymond. 1966. Culture and society, 1780–1950. New York: Harper and Row. ———. 1976. Keywords. New York: Harper and Row. Williamson, Eleanor. 1976. Hawaiian chants and song used in political campaigns. In Directions in Pacific traditional literature, ed. Adrienne L. Kaeppler and H. Arlo Nimmo, 135–156. Bernice P. Bishop Museum Special Publication 62. Honolulu: Bishop Museum Press. Wisniewski, Richard A. 1979. The rise and fall of the Hawaiian Kingdom: A pictorial history. Honolulu: Pacific Basin Enterprises. ———. 1987. Hawaiian monarchs and their palaces. Honolulu: Pacific Basin Enterprises. Witherwax, Rita. 1978. Iolani Palace. Aloha 1(3): 8–15. Wolf, Eric. 1982. Europe and the people without history. Berkeley: University of California Press. Wong, Ka‘upena. 1965. Ancient Hawaiian music. In The Kamehameha Schools 75th anniversary lectures, 9–15. Honolulu: The Kamehameha Schools. Wood, Houston. 1999. Displacing natives: The rhetorical production of Hawai‘i. Lanham, MD: Rowman and Littlefield Publishers. Wright, Bryce McMurdo. 1883. “Sunbeam” treasures: A description of the natural history and other objects lent by Lady Brassey to the International Fisheries Exhibition. London: W. Clowes and Sons, International Fisheries Exhibition. Wright, Walter. 1994. Love-in at the palace: The Dalai Lama brings spirit of joy to Hawaii. Honolulu Advertiser, 15 April, A1, A8. Yengoyan, Aram. 1994. Culture, ideology and world’s fairs: Colonizer and colonized in comparative perspectives. In Fair representations: World’s fairs and the modern world, ed. Robert W. Rydell and Nancy Gwinn, 62–83. Amsterdam: VU University Press. Zambucka, Kristin. 1977. The high chiefess Ruth Keelikolani. Honolulu: Mana Publishing Co. ———. 1983. Kalakaua, Hawaii’s last king. Honolulu: Mana Publishing Co. Zolberg, Vera L. 1994. “An elite experience for everyone”: Art museums, the public, and cultural literacy. In Museum culture: Histories, discourses, spectacles, ed. Daniel J. Sherman and Irit Rogoff, 49–65. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press.

Index

Page numbers in boldface refer to illustrations. Adler, Jacob, 68, 77 adzes, 151 ‘aha ali‘i, 43, 200n.67 ‘ahu‘ula (feather cloaks), 8, 21, 34, 35, 45– 47, 72, 86, 87, 90, 122, Plate 3 Akahiakuleana, 89 Alexander, tsar of Russia, 23–24 Alfonso XII, king of Spain, 24 ali‘i, ali‘i nui. See chiefs Ali‘iōlani Hale, 56, 60, 68, 78, 94, 102, 103, 129 AlSayyad, Nezar, 7, 9–10 annexation, 15–16, 24, 55, 129 Annexation Club, 129 artifacts, definition, 106 astronomical phenomena, 68–69 Augustus Caesar, 81, 81–82 Baker, John Timoteo, 86–87 Baker, Robert Hoapili, 86–87, 87, 90, 127 Baker, Thomas J., 56 Baldwin, David Dwight, 104–105, 107, 110 Barrett, Gwynn, 68 Bayonet Constitution, 9, 129 Beckley, Emma Metcalf. See Nākuina, Emma Metcalf Beckley Beckwith, Martha, 39 Bell, Joshua, 63, 65, 205n.63 Bernice Pauahi Bishop Museum, 97, 117, 130, 212n.21 Bhabha, Homi, 25, 126 birth chants (mele hānau), 117–118

Bishop, Bernice Pauahi, 14, 197n.37 Bishop, Charles R., 14, 103–104, 107, 117 Bishop Museum. See Bernice Pauahi Bishop Museum Board of Genealogy of Hawaiian Chiefs (Ka Papa Kū‘auhau o Nā Ali‘i), 19, 38, 43–44, 85, 100, 129–130, 134, 136 Bosseront d’Anglade, Mariel Gabriel, 189n.2 bowls, dishes, containers (Hawaiian), 105, 109, 111, 111, 121, 122, 140–141, 147–149, 154, 156, 158–160 Bray, David K., 206n.91 Brigham, William Tufts, 89 brightness. See shining, burning, brightness (theme) burning. See shining, burning, brightness (theme) burning kapu, 36, 37, 39 calabash, 146, 158–159 Californian Illustrated Magazine, 60 Carter, H. A. P., 128 Cazimero, Robert, 134 chants (mele), 19, 21, 35, 38–39, 41, 43, 44–45, 117–118, 197n.30 Chapin, Helen G., 14, 19, 84–85 Charlot, John, 44, 45, 46, 47, 66, 77, 86, 202n.2 Charlton, Richard, 189n.2 chiefs: association with hoaka (crescent/ arch), 51, 71–73; burial sites, 70–71,

257

258

Index

205n.69; celestial signs and, 53–54; changing notions of rulership and leadership, 25; genealogy of, 3, 19, 36–39, 42, 199n.62, 200n.67; good and bad, 84, 92, 208n.23; and heiau plans and features, 73; hierarchical nature of leadership, 28–29; homes of, 60–61, 65, 65–66, 68; kapu of, 36–39, 43–45, 118; as knights, 52; pono rule, 11, 26, 46–47, 73, 84, 92, 93; usurping, 3, 44, 92, 125 China, 127 Choris, Louis, 86 Christianity, 11, 17–19, 69, 192n.47, 205n.63 “Civilized houses,” 59, 63–65 Clarke, F. L., 109–110 Cleghorn, Archibald S., 14 Clifford, James, 100, 105–106 coat of arms, 34, 35, 36, 39, 47, 51, 72, 73, 75, Plate 2 collecting and collections, 19, 21, 98–100, 105–106, 106–110, 126, 211n.4, 212n.19. See also museums colonial period: disregard of indigenous contributions, 5–6; Hawaiian national culture during, 8–12; increasing pressures of colonization during Kalākaua’s reign, 2; interaction of cultures during, 12– 17; intermarriage, 14–15; museums and, 97–98, 106, 110; newspapers and journals as resistance, 19–20; religion as resistance, 17–19; variable outcomes of colonization, 9, 191n.33 Colossus of the Pacific, 24, 108 Committee of Safety, 129 conch shells, 35, 119–120, 120, 130, 157 Conn, Steven, 100 containers. See bowls, dishes, containers (Hawaiian) Cook, James, 34, 47, 77, 78, 92 Cooper, Henry E., 129

Coote, Walter, 62 coronation of Kalākaua, 26–54, 32, 33, 34; act of law proposing and financing, 27; attendees, 31; celestial signs and, 53–54; ceremony, 35–36, 52–54, 54; coat of arms, 34, 35, 36, 39, 47, 51, 72, 73, 75, Plate 2; coronation pavilion (Keli‘iponi Hale), 33, 33–35; grandstand, 33–35; and hierarchical nature of chiefly leadership, 28–29; inclusion of European royal symbols, 35–36, 47; ‘Iolani Palace and, 75; Kalākaua’s role in, 27; mixture of Hawaiian and Western elements, 35–36, 54; modernity and, 30, 35; purpose of, 26–27, 27–29; references to other nations, 33–34; related activities and program, 30–31; self-crowning, 52–54, 54; support for and opposition to, 28, 29–30, 128. See also coronation regalia coronation regalia, 36–53; feather cloak of Kamehameha I, 45–47, 130, Plate 3; Kāhili of Pili, 41–42; palaoa (niho palaoa, chiefly neck ornaments), 39–41, 40, 198n.48; pūlo‘ulo‘u (insignia of chiefly sanctity and privilege), 36–39, 37; Ring of State, 47–48, 130, Plate 4; Royal Crowns, 50–52, 130, 201n.96, Plate 5; Royal Scepter, 48, 49, 50, 130; Sword of State, 47, 48, 130; Torch of Iwikauikaua, 42–45, 51 Corwine, Ella Smith, 90, Plate 9 crescent/arch motifs (hoaka), 39, 51, 71, 71–73, 72, 115, 115–116, 116 crested feather helmet (mahiole), 83, 87, 88, 122–123, 123, 158, Plates 10–11, Plate 15 crowning ceremony, 52–54, 54 crowns, 50–52, 130, 201n.96, Plate 5 cultural objects, power of, 100–101, 212n.19



Cummins, Tom, 72 Current Literature, 60 Daggett, Rollin M., 4, 50, 68, 69, 111 Damisch, Hubert, 110 Deverill, William E. H., 107 Diell, John, 99 dishes. See bowls, dishes, containers (Hawaiian) Dole, Sanford B., 128, 130 Dominis, John O., 14 Douglas, Bronwen, 191n.37 drum of La‘amaikahiki, 118, 158, 216n.86 drums, 114–118, 115, 116, 130, 152–153, 158, 196n.14, 215n.69, 215n.70, 216n.78, 216n.86, 222n.56 Dudoit, Jules, 189n.2 During, Simon, 17 eho rocks, 68, 205n.61 eight, symbolism of, 34, 41, 50–51 Eisenstadt, S. N., 191n.34 elections, 3, 13, 28, 127, 128–129 Ellis, William, 61 Emerson, Joseph S., 107 Emma, Queen. See Rooke, Emma Kaleleonālani Naea (Queen Emma) England, 2, 12, 23, 24, 36, 47, 58, 99, 108, 133, 189n.2, 201n.96 feather cloak of Kamehameha I, 35, 45–47, 82, 88, 92, 130, Plate 3 feather sash of Līloa, 87, 89, 89–91, 91, 92, 119, 157, 209n.46, 210n.50, Plates 9–10 feather standards (kāhili), 37, 41–42, 44, 199n.57, 220n.21 featherwork and feathers, 21, 34, 35, 41– 42, 45–46, 72, 83, 87, 89, 89, 90, 91, 123, 123, 140n.5, 143 finger bowls, 147 fishhooks (makau), 21, 113–114, 114, 119, 156, 157 Fitch, George H., 8, 60

Index

Fornander, Abraham, 14, 89, 112–113, 199n.62 France, 2–3, 12, 24, 31, 33, 34, 50, 58, 108, 133, 189n.2, 202n.104 Fraser, Nancy, 135 freemasonry, 19, 52, 60, 66, 202n.104, 204n.48, 207n.11 Friend, 19–20 genealogy, as basis for rulership, 42, 118, 216n.88, 217n.90 genealogy chants (mele koihonua), 43, 118 Gibson, Walter Murray: career, 11; and the coronation of Kalākaua, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31; disapproval of, 127–128, 129; and Hawaiian National Museum, 105; on health of Native Hawaiians, 87–88; and King Kamehameha Monument, 77–80, 81, 82, 84, 86, 87–88, 94–95; support for a Polynesian federation, 108 globalization, 17 Gould, Marshall S., 94, 210n.70 Gould, Thomas Ridgeway, 80, 81, 83, 86, 90, 92, 94, 207n.11, 207n.13, Plate 8, Plates 10–14 gourds, 111, 111, 121, 147–148, 154 Hakaleleponi Gate, 75 Hākau, 92, 208n.23 hale ‘aina (women’s eating house), 61 Hale ‘Ākala, 61, 63, 65, 65–66, 203n.33 hale ho‘āhu (storage building, hale papa‘a), 61 hale kuku (work house), 61 hale mana, 75–76, 205n.63 hale moe (sleeping house), 61, 65–66 hale mua (men’s eating house), 59, 61, 62–65, 66 Hale Nauā Society, 19, 20, 21, 21, 22, 90, 100, 107, 117, 125, 140, 202n.104 hale pe‘a (menstrual house), 61 Handler, Richard, 20, 193n.69

259

260

Index

Handy, E. S. Craighill, 72 Hannerz, Ulf, 193n.74 Harris, C. G., 66, 76 Harris, Neil, 100 Hawaiian Almanac and Annual, 80, 100 Hawaiian Board of Health, 129–130 Hawaiian Gazette, 19–20, 33, 45, 197n.23 Hawaiian Institute, 100 Hawaiian Kingdom Government, 133–134 Hawaiian League, 128–129 Hawaiian National Museum, 97–126; administrators and curators, 103–105; appropriations for, 105, 130, 213n.34, 213n.36; catalogue of, 139–184; collecting expeditions to other Pacific islands, 108–110, 223n.82; contributors, 107, 214n.45; emphasis on antiquity of Hawaiian past, 110–111; and Hawaiian colonial ambitions, 108–110; and history, 110–126; inclusion of Western material culture, 110, 123–124; initial displays, 104; intended audience, 98–99, 101; Kalākaua objects, 125; Kamehameha I objects, 121–125, 122; Kihapu (shell trumpet), 119–120, 120, 130, 157; location of, 102, 103; Log of Manokalanipo, 112–113, 113, 154; Manaiakalani (Hook from the Heavens), 113–114, 114, 156; multiple purposes of, 97–98; Naiwipae (human bone fishhook), 119, 157; Nanikōkī (ivory pendant necklace, niho palaoa), 119, 158; Naniuaola (temple drum), 114–118, 115, 116, 130, 158, 216n.86; and nationalism, 125–126; natural history and anthropological objects, 106–110; as part of Bernice Pauahi Bishop Museum collection, 130; proposal for, 101–102; public function of, 102–103; as sacred space, 117; sled

of Lonoikamakahiki, 109, 112, 121, 130, 151–152 Hawai‘i Pono‘ī (national anthem), 86, 88, 91, 96 Hawai‘i State Quarter, 131–132, 132 Healani Hale, 68, 207n.57 heiau (temple), 42, 61, 62, 62, 66, 68–70, 73, 116–117 heiau po‘o kanaka, 68 heights (theme), 45, 61, 91 Herrick, Bertha F., 60 hiding caves, 71 history: Hawaiian National Museum and, 110–126; objects and, 100–101, 212n.15 Hitchcock, Harvey Rexford, 104, 110 hoaka (crescent/arch motifs), 39, 51, 71, 71–73, 72, 115–116 hoano kapu, 35, 37, 39 Honolulu, 12–13, 55, 60, 65, 94, 130, 135 Honolulu Library and Reading-Room Association, 100 Honolulu Times, 14 Ho‘ohōkūlani, 51 Hook from the Heavens (Manaiakalani), 113–114, 114, 130, 156 Ho‘oulu Lāhui (“Increase the Nation”), 46, 85, 87 houses, 58, 61, 65–66 hula, 2, 21, 31, 111, 118, 128, 132, 134 human bone fishhook (Naiwipae), 119, 157 human sacrifice, 42, 66, 68, 114, 115, 116 human teeth, as used in material culture, 104, 111, 116, 119, 121, 122, 159, 160 Iaukea, Curtis Pi‘ehu, 24–25 identity, 16, 193n.69 Illustrated London News, 31, 41, 52, 54 “Increase the Nation” (Ho‘oulu Lāhui), 46, 85, 87 Independent Party, 128 ‘io, 50, 61



‘Iolani Palace, 55–76, 57, Plate 7, Plate 16; as chiefly home, 60–61; completion and dedication ceremonies, 204n.48; cornerstone-laying ceremony, 60; crescent/arch motifs, 71, 71–73, 72; entrance, 72, 73, 74; exhibition (2000), 130; floor plans, 56, 202n.6; foreign travelers’ descriptions of, 60; gates, 71, 71, 75; as hale mua (men’s eating house), 62–63, 65; as heiau (temple), 66, 68, 69–70, 116; history of, 55–76; inclusion of foreign orders and portraits of state heads, 58; as international symbol, 58–59; Kalākaua and Kapi‘olani at, 65, 65; location of, 66, 67, 68; naming of, 61; as national symbol, 56, 58; orientation of, 68–69; palace compound as kauhale, 61–63, 63; as part of Kalākaua’s coronation, 75; pūlo‘ulo‘u motifs, 63, 64, 65; purpose of, 58; Royal Mausoleum and Crypt, 70, 70–71; as site of celebration and dissent, 132–134, 133; as statement of kingship, 75–76; as symbol of progress and the future, 76; throne room, 37, 58, 59, 206n.91; use of stones from Kūki‘i Heiau, 73; use of technical innovations and modern inventions, 59–60 ipu pāwehe (decorated gourd bowl), 111, 111 Isenberg, Paul, 129 Iwikauikaua, 42–43, 44, 90, 200n.67 Japan, 23, 24, 31, 33, 35, 58, 108 Jarves, J. J., 46 journals (Native Hawaiian), 19–20 Judd, A. F., 45, 47 Ka‘ahaimauli, 66 Ka‘ahumanu, 11, 65, 70

Index

kā‘ai. See feather sash of Līloa kā‘eke (drum), 104, 111, 114, 215n.69. See also drums Kaeppler, Adrienne L., 72, 115, 116 Kahekili, 124, 125 Kahiki, 41, 42, 68, 90, 118, 158, 199n.58, 199n.60 kāhili. See feather standards Kāhili of Pili, 41–42 Ka Hoku o Ka Pakipika, 19, 84–85, 92 Kā‘ilikapuolono, 105, 155–156, 218n.107, 218n.109 Kai‘okia law, 112 kālaipāhoa wood, 124–125, 155–156, 218n.107, 218n.109 Kalākaua, David, 53, 65, Plate 1; as activist king, 84–85; and Bayonet Constitution, 9, 129; and Christianity, 18–19; and crested feather helmet (mahiole) of Kaumuali‘i, 122–123, 123; criticism of, 5–6, 8–9, 13, 19–20, 127–129; and cultural renaissance (overview), 4–8, 9–11, 19–20, 21–22, 85; education and early political career, 1; election of, 3; and feather cloak of Kamehameha I, 46–47; and feather sash of Līloa, 89, 89–91, 91, 92, 209n.46; and foreigners and foreign culture, 10; and freemasonry, 19, 52, 53; genealogy chant “Mele Koihonua no Kalakaua,” 118; genealogy of, 3, 19, 37–39, 42–45, 73, 199n.62; and Gibson, 11, 191n.45; Grand Jubilee celebration, 37, 90, 132–133, 133; and hula, 21; imperial ambitions of, 24, 108–110; and international relations, 11–12, 23–25, 127–128; versus Kamehameha family, 117–118; and Kamehameha I, 35, 46, 82–86, 88, 91; and Kihapu (war conch trumpet), 119–120; knight templar, 52, 53; literary

261

262

Index

activism of, 19–20; and Naniuaola, 117; as priest, 69–70; reign of (overview), 1–2; on ‘Umi, 120; use of Maltese crosses, 51–52; world tour (1881), 24–25, 45, 56, 71, 128; writings: Kumulipo, 19, 38–39, 42, 90, 119, 198n.43; Legends and Myths of Hawaii, 21, 42, 52, 111, 112; national anthem, 85–86, 91; periodicals, 19. See also coronation of Kalākaua; ‘Iolani Palace Kalanikauleleiaiwi, 43–44 Kalanimōkū, 61 Kalani‘ōpu‘u, 114, 124 Kamaka‘eha, Lydia. See Lili‘uokalani, Queen Kamakau, Samuel, 4, 40, 71, 89, 92, 120, 122, 124, 196n.14, 200n.67, 206n.73, 208n.23, 215n.62, 217n.100, 218n.107 Kamāmalu, Victoria, 70 Ka Manawa, 19 kamani (wood), 56, 203n.9 Kame‘eleihiwa, Lilikalā, 51 Kamehameha chiefs, 3, 44, 53, 83, 117– 118, 123 Kamehameha Day, 2, 96, 130–131, Plate 15 Kamehameha I: admiration for, 78–79, 82–83; feather cloak of, 45–47, 130, Plate 3; and foreigners and foreign culture, 10; Hawaiian National Museum objects related to life and reign of, 121–125, 122, 158–159; homes of, 62, 66; Kalākaua and, 26, 46, 82–86, 88, 91; and Naniuaola (temple drum), 114–118, 115, 116; physique of, 87; and pono rule, 83, 84; religious devotion of, 124; unification of Hawai‘i, 3, 79, 94–95, 122–123. See also King Kamehameha Monument Kamehameha II (Liholiho), 3, 30, 44, 61, 62, 63, 65, 70, 122, 197n.36 Kamehameha III (Kauikeaouli), 3, 12, 23, 30, 34, 56, 61–62, 65, 66,

70, 75, 168, 192n.48, 206n.82, 209n.46, 214n.50, 223n.86. See also Kauikeaouli Gate Kamehameha IV (Alexander Liholiho), 3, 15, 23, 30, 61–62, 68, 70, 116–117 Kamehameha V (Lota Kapuāiwa), 3, 23, 30, 52, 56, 61, 96, 101–102, 117, 201n.102 Kanaloa, 116 Kāne, 38, 68–69, 116, 124, 198n.42 Kāneikaulana‘ula, 124 Kanela‘au (heiau), 66 Kānenuiakea, 112 Kaniakapupu, 66 Ka Nupepa Kuokoa, 38, 88, 124 kapa (bark cloth, tapa), 21, 22, 36, 39, 62–63, 143–146 Ka Papa Kū‘auhau o Nā Ali‘i (The Board of Genealogy of Hawaiian Chiefs), 19, 38, 43–44, 85, 100, 129–130, 134, 136, 197n.40 Kapena, John Makini, 35–36, 66, 70, 76, 79, 80, 204n.49 Kapi‘olani, Queen: coronation, 50, 52, 53; crown of, 201n.96; and feather lei for Queen Victoria, 41; genealogy of, 112, 118, 122–123, 210n.53; and Hawaiian material culture collection, 91; and Ho‘oulu Lāhui (“Increase the Nation”), 85; and ‘Iolani Palace, 60, 65, 65, 132; Royal Order of, Plate 6; tour of the islands, 42 kapu moe, 36, 39, 42, 43–44 kapu sticks. See pūlo‘ulo‘u kapu system, 22, 53, 192n.46; feather sash of Līloa, 90; human sacrifices, 66, 68; kapu ranking, 43–44; overthrow of, 11, 12, 69, 197n.36, 217n.90; pūlo‘ulo‘u (as insignia of kapu), 36–37 kapu wela, 36, 37, 39 kapu wohi, 35, 43–44, 91 kauhale, 61–63, 62



Kauikeaouli. See Kamehameha III (Kauikeaouli) Kauikeaouli Gate, 71, 75 Kaumuali‘i, 3, 210n.53, 217n.100; feather helmet of, 122–123, 123, 158; and feather sash, 209n.46 Keakealaniwahine, 43–44, 90, 198n.44 Keawe-a-Heulu, 26, 37, 42, 45, 198n.43 Ke‘elikōlani, Ruth, 43, 66, 194n.78, 197n.37, 205n.66 Kekaulike, Princess, 45, 95–96 Kekāuluohi, High Chiefess, 61 Kekūanaō‘a, 56, 61, 66, 160, 222n.53 Kiha, 39, 42, 119–120, 199n.60 Kihapu (shell trumpet), 119–120, 120, 130, 157 ki-leaf cloaks, 21, 194n.90 Kīna‘u, 70 Kīna‘u Gate, 75 Kīna‘u Hale, 61 King, George W. R., 113 Kingdom of Hawai‘i, survival of, 2, 21, 25, 28, 96, 128, 136–137 King Kamehameha Monument, 77–96, 78, 83, Plates 10–11; base of, 88, 92; bronze reliefs depicting events of Kamehameha’s life, 88, 92–94, Plate 8, Plates 12–14; feather garments, 87, 88–92, 89; Gibson’s proposal for, 77–80; and Hawai‘i State Quarter designs, 131–132, 132; height of, 91; international admiration for Kamehameha, 78–79; and Kamehameha Day, 96, 130–131, Plate 15; location of, 94; military theme of, 88; Monument Committee, 80, 81, 86; native models for, 86–87, 87; pose selected for, 81, 81–82; as public monument, 135; recognition and popularity of, 77; replicas of, 77, 94, 131, 210n.70; as sacred monument, 211n.75; as symbol of modernity, 77, 79; unveiling

Index

ceremony, 88, 94–96; on U.S. postage stamp, 131, 131 kings, authority and responsibilities of, 3–4, 25, 26, 39, 46, 47, 51, 69–70, 73, 75–76 Kirch, Patrick, 68–69, 198n.48 knights, 22, 35–36, 42, 52 Knights of Malta, 52 knights templar, 52, 53 koa (wood), 56, 121, 125, 202n.9 Ko Hawaii Pae Aina, 28, 38 kōnane, 152, 221n.36 kou (wood), 56, 202n.9 Kū, 69, 113–114, 116, 119, 125, 154 Küchler, Susanne, 212n.19 Kūka‘ilimoku, 125, 154 Kukalie, 93 Kūki‘i Heiau, 73, 120 kukui torches, 42–43, 50–51 Kulukulu‘a, 40 Kumulipo, 19, 38–39, 42, 73, 90, 119, 198n.43 Kū‘ulakai, 113–114 La‘a, 118, 216n.86, 217n.88 La‘amaikahiki, 112, 118, 216n.86 Law of the Splintered Paddle (Māmala-hoe Kānāwai), 92, 93, Plate 14 Legends and Myths of Hawaii (Kalākaua), 22, 42–43, 52, 111, 112 Le Goff, Jacques, 79 Liholiho. See Kamehameha II Liholiho, Alexander. See Kamehameha IV Likelike, Miriam Kapili Kekāuluohi, 14, 18, 75 Likelike Gate, 75 Lili‘uokalani, Queen, 14, 29, 37, 45, 117, 129, 132, 133, 134, 193n.63, 198n.43, 198n.44, 217n.92 Līloa, 39, 40, 42, 70, 89, 199n.60, 199n.62, 200n.67, 208n.23. See also feather sash of Līloa Linnekin, Jocelyn, 191n.33 Lishman, Robert, 56, 92

263

264

Index

Löfgren, Orvar, 23 Log of Manokalanipo, 112–113, 113, 154 Lono, 69, 116, 118, 120 Lonoikamakahiki, 198n.44, 200n.67; burial site of, 70; drum of, 118; and kapu moe, 43; and the Kumulipo, 39, 42, 73, 198n.44, 199n.62; and Lononuiakea, 215n.62; and sash of Līloa, 90; sled of (papa hōlua), 109, 112, 121, 130, 151–152 Lota Kapuāiwa. See Kamehameha V (Lota Kapuāiwa) Love, Eric T., 15, 193n.64 Lucas, George, 56, 197n.24 mahiole (crested feather helmet), 82, 88, 122–123, 123, 158; on King Kamehameha Monument, 83, 88 maika. See ‘ulu maika Makahiki, 96, 112 Makahiki gods, 112, 215n.62 makau (fishhooks), 113–114, 114, 119, 156, 157 Makuakaumana, 41–42 Malo, David, 44, 84, 199n.62, 204n.49 Maltese crosses, 50–52, Plates 1–2, Plates 4–6 mana: and chiefliness, 6–7, 10, 38, 41, 69–70, 98; and ‘Iolani Palace, 25, 73–74, 75–76; and Kamehameha, 3, 121, 124; and Naniuaola (temple drum), 115–116 Mana (heiau), 66 Manaiakalani (Hook from the Heavens), 113–114, 114, 130, 156 Manokalanipo, 112–113, 113, 154 Marazzi, Antonio, 7, 190n.26 Marques, Auguste, 194n.89 McBryde, Alexander M., 107 McGuire, James, 107 medieval imagery, 22, 52 mele (chants), 19, 43, 44–45, 117–118 Merry, Sally Engle, 17 mimicry, 8, 126

missionaries, 14, 17–19, 20, 29, 65, 80, 104, 107, 110, 124, 126, 130, 135 modernity: chiefly leadership and, 25; coronation and, 26, 30, 47; Hawaiian National Museum and, 107; ‘Iolani Palace and, 55, 59, 60, 65, 69, 76; King Kamehameha Monument and, 77, 79–80, 96; and resistance, 17–20; travel and, 24–25 mō‘ī, 1, 3, 43, 199n.60 monarchy, overthrow of, 129, 133, 134, 190n.14, 191n.33, 193n.63, Plate 16 Moore, Isaac, 56 Moreno, Celso Caesar, 27, 127 mountain-ocean orientation, 68 Museum Movement, 99–101 museums: and colonization, 97–98, 106, 108, 110; exterior appearance of, 102, 212n.24; and nationalism, 97– 98, 99, 101, 110. See also Hawaiian National Museum Naiwipae (human bone fishhook), 119, 157 Nākuina, Emma Metcalf Beckley, 105, 213n.37; Hawaiian National Museum catalogue, 40, 89, 105, 111, 112, 118, 199n.51, 224n.95 name chants (mele inoa), 44–45, 117–118 Nanikōkī (ivory pendant necklace, niho palaoa), 40, 119, 158, 199n.51 Naniuaola (temple drum), 82, 114–118, 115, 116, 130, 158, 216n.86 national anthem, 2, 85–86, 91, 95 national culture, 1–2, 8–14, 134–137 nationalism: and colonization, 6–7, 11–12; Hawaiian National Museum and, 125–126; internationalism and, 23– 25; King Kamehameha Monument and, 77–80, 95–96; museums and, 97–98, 99, 101, 110; and nativism, 20–23 national motto, 34, 35, 36, 47, 73 Native religion, 17–19. See also kapu system



netting, 21, 21 newspapers, 14, 19–20, 37–38, 84–85 niho palaoa, 35, 39–41, 40, 119, 197n.31, 198n.48 North American Review, 15, 78, 192n.60 ohe hano ihu (nose flute), 153 ‘ōhi‘a (wood), 56, 202n.9 Onipa‘a Centennial Committee, 134 Ortner, Sherry B., 136 Osorio, Jonathan Kay Kamakawiwo‘ole, 84, 210n.69 Pa‘ao, 41–42, 90, 199n.57, 199n.60, 210n.50 Pacific Commercial Advertiser: coronation, 28, 30, 31, 39, 41, 45, 47, 48–49, 50, 51; as government mouthpiece, 28; ‘Iolani Palace, 58; King Kamehameha Monument, 80, 95; as pro-American, 14 Pae, 119, 157 pahu heiau (temple drums), 114–118, 115, 116, 130, 158, 216n.86 Pākākā Point, 65, 66 Pākī, Abner, 70 palaoa, 35, 39–41, 41, 119, 198n.48, 199n.51 Papa Ali‘i (papa ali‘i), 38, 200n.67 Papa‘ena‘ena, 116 papa hōlua, 109, 112, 121, 130, 151–152 Paris Exposition Universelle, 109, 112, 143 Peterson, Charles E., 202n.2 Pili (Pilikaaiea, Piliauaua), 35, 41–42, 90, 199n.57, 199n.60, 200n.67 Pohukaina, 61, 70, 70–71, 205n.66, 205n.67 Pohukaina cave, 71 Polynesian, 14 Polynesian federation, 128 Pomian, Krzysztof, 211n.4 pono (good, effective, righteous), 11, 26, 46–47, 84, 92, 93–94 Po‘omaikelani, Virginia Kapo‘oloku, 36, 39 Porter, Mrs. John, 68, 205n.61

Index

portraits, 58–59, 214n.45, Plate 1 pou hana (ridge post), 61 pūlo‘ulo‘u (insignia of chiefly sanctity and privilege), 36–39, 37, 62, 63, 64, 65, 65, 72 Punahou School, 99–100 Pūowaina (Punchbowl), 66, 67, 68 Queen’s Party (Emmaites), 13 Ra‘a, 216n.86 Reciprocity Treaty (1875), 13, 56–57, 196n.6 regalia. See coronation regalia resistance of culture: Kalākaua and, 9–10, 25; museums and, 106; nationalism as, 20–23; Native religion as, 17–19; newspapers and journals, 19–20 Ring of State, 47–48, 130, Plate 4 Rooke, Emma Kaleleonālani Naea (Queen Emma), 14–15, 192n.51; birth and genealogy chants, 118; and collection of Hawaiian material culture, 102, 117; home (Ihikapukalani), 62, 68; on Kalākaua’s activism, 85; opposition to Kalākaua, 13, 28, 197n.37 Rose, Roger, 34, 89, 99, 209n.46, 212n.21 Royal Crowns, 50–52, 130, 201n.96, 130, Plate 5 Royal Mausoleum and Crypt, 70, 70–71, 205n.69 Royal Orders, 35, 37, 51–52, 58, 201n.102, 202n.104, Plate 6 Royal Scepter, 48, 49, 50, 130 sacrificial economy, 212n.19 Sahlins, Marshall, 17, 36 Said, Edward, 17, 193n.69 Sala, George, 60 sandalwood trade, 10 Sandwich Islands Institute, 99 San Francisco Chronicle, 60 Sanitary Instructions for Hawaiians (Gibson), 87–88

265

266

Index

sash of Līloa. See feather sash of Līloa Seamen’s Bethel, 99 Sharrad, Paul, 6 Sheldon, Henry L., 14 Shils, Edward, 136 shining, burning, brightness (theme), 44–45, 48, 51, 53–54, 72, 88, 91 Silva, Noenoe K., 5, 19 sledding, 112, 151–152 sled of Lonoikamakahiki, 109, 112, 121, 130, 151 social Darwinism, 15 sovereignty, United States recognition of, 15–16 sovereignty activists, 131, 133–134 specimens, definition of, 106 Spreckels, Claus, 128 statehood, 55, 133 Stevens, John L., 129 Stokes, John F. G., 73, 90 Stoler, Ann L., 9 structural history, 16 sugar industry, 13, 58, 79, 127, 196n.6 Sword of State, 47, 48, 130 Sydney exhibition (Australia), 107, 108 taro (kalo), 50, 51, 68, 73 Tatar, Elizabeth, 116, 216n.86 temple drums (pahu heiau), 114–118, 115, 116, 130, 158, 215n.70, 216n.86 temples. See heiau (temple) Thomas, Edward Bedford, 56 Thomas, Nicholas, 6, 24–25, 69–70 Thurston, Lorrin A., 15 Torch of Iwikauikaua, 42–45, 51 Toynbee, Arnold, 192n.54 Tripp, Alfred N., 36, 109

Turner, Victor, 96 ‘ukêkê (Hawaiian guitar), 153 ‘ulu maika, 111, 152, 159 ‘Umi, 39, 40–41, 44, 73, 89–90, 92, 112, 119–120, 125, 157, 198n.44, 199n.57, 199n.62, 206n.78, 218.n111 unification of Hawai‘i, 3, 26, 79, 95, 121, 122–123 Union and Federation of Asiatic Nations and Sovereigns, 24, 108 United States: annexation of Hawai‘i, 3, 15–16, 24, 55, 129; Hawai‘i postage stamps and coins, 131, 131–132, 132; Museum Movement in, 100; Reciprocity Treaty (1875), 13, 56–57, 196n.6; representation in Hawai‘i, 189n.5 Valentine, C. A., 191n.33 Vancouver, George, 78, 124, 159 Victoria, queen of England, 24, 41, 58, 168 Wākea, 51, 114, 116, 118, 198n.42 Wall, Charles J., 56 war gods, 124–125 Webster, Daniel, 15, 193n.63 Weekly Argus, 14 White, Geoffrey M., 6 world fairs and expositions, 77, 107, 108, 109, 112, 143, 167, 195n.99, 211n.75, 221n.41, 221n.42 Young, John, 10, 14, 70, 123, 159, 205n.67 Young, John, II, 61 Young Hawaiians, 1, 84

About the Author

Stacy L. Kamehiro received her B.A. in visual art at the University of California, San Diego, and her M.A. and Ph.D. in art history at the University of California, Los Angeles. She is currently an associate professor in the History of Art and Visual Culture Department at the University of California, Santa Cruz, where she teaches courses exploring a range of issues related to Oceanic visual culture: bodily representations, art and identity, colonial studies and cross-cultural encounters, textiles, and art and religion. Her research focuses on colonial Hawaiian visual culture, and she has published on quilts, architecture, and race images in nineteenth-century trade card lithography. Kamehiro’s current work examines the politics of art organizations in Hawai‘i following the overthrow of the monarchy as well as nineteenth-century material culture collecting and exhibition practices in local and international contexts. She is a recipient of the University of California President’s Research Fellowship in the Humanities.

Production Notes for Kamehiro / The Arts of Kingship Display type in Warnock Pro; text in Minion Pro Printing and binding by Sheridan Books, Inc. Printed on 60# Accent Opaque, 375 ppi

HAWAIIAN HISTORY / ART

Stacy L. Kamehiro is associate professor in the History of Art and Visual Culture Department at the University of California, Santa Cruz.

CO V E R A RT:

C O V E R D E S I G N:

Julie Matsuo-Chun

THE ARTS OF KINGSHIP HAWAIIAN ART AND NATIONAL CULTURE ¯ K AU A E RA OF T H E K AL A

KA M E HI RO

“Display of Courage,” bronze relief panel on the base of the Kamehameha Monument. Photograph by Jill Cannon, 2006. Courtesy of the photographer.

offers a sustained and detailed account of Hawaiian public art and architecture during the reign of David Kalākaua, the nativist and cosmopolitan ruler of the Hawaiian Kingdom from 1874 to 1891. Stacy Kamehiro provides visual and historical analysis of Kalākaua’s coronation and regalia, the King Kamehameha Statue, ‘Iolani Palace, and the Hawaiian National Museum, drawing them together in a common historical, political, and cultural frame. Each articulated Hawaiian national identities and navigated the turbulence of colonialism in distinctive ways and has endured as a key cultural symbol. These cultural projects were part of the monarchy’s concerted effort to promote a national culture in the face of colonial pressures, internal political divisions, and declining social conditions for Native Hawaiians, which, in combination, posed serious threats to the survival of the nation. The Kalākaua leadership endorsed images that boosted international relations and appeased foreign agitators in the kingdom while addressing indigenous political cleavages. Kamehiro interprets the images, spaces, and institutions as articulations of the complex cultural entanglements and creative engagement with international communities that occur with prolonged colonial contact. Nineteenth-century Hawaiian sovereigns celebrated Native tradition, history, and modernity by intertwining indigenous conceptions of superior chiefly leadership with the apparati and symbols of Asian, American, and European rule. The resulting symbolic forms speak to cultural intersections and historical processes, claims about distinctiveness and commonality, and the power of objects, institutions, and public display to create meaning and enable action. The Arts of Kingship pursues questions regarding the nature of cultural exchange, how precolonial visual culture engaged and shaped colonial contexts, and how colonial art informs postcolonial visualities and identities. It will be welcomed by readers with a general and scholarly interest in Hawaiian history and art. As it contributes to discussions about colonial cultures, nationalism, and globalization, this interdisciplinary work will appeal to art and architectural historians as well as those studying Pacific history, cultural and museum studies, and anthropology.

THE ARTS OF KINGSHIP

The Arts of Kingship

ISBN 978-0-8248-3358-9

UNIVERSITY of HAWAI‘I PRESS

Honolulu, Hawai‘i 96822-1888

90000

9 780824 833589 www.uhpress.hawaii.edu

S T ACY L . K AME H I RO