On this day in Hawaiʻi, April 4, 1839 we remember our Royal Chiefess Kaʻahumanu II, Kīnaʻu:
On this day in Hawaiʻi, April 4, 1839:
Yesterday was the anniversary of the death of Kaahumanu II, our once Princess, Kuhina Nui, Queen Regent, and Dowager Queen Kalani Ahumanu i Kaliko o Iwi Kauhipua o Kīnaʻu, also known as Elizabeth Kīnaʻu.
She was a daughter of Kamehameha I, a wife of Liholiho and a niece of Ka‘ahumanu. In 1827 she took as her third husband Mataio Kekuanao‘a, who late in his career became kuhina nui with Kamehameha V. Their daughter Victoria Kamamalu also was kuhina nui with Kamehameha IV. Kina‘u’s coregency with her half-brother Kamehameha III was marked by religious quarrels — the latter wanting to revive the old Hawaian beliefs, while she was firmly committed to the Protestant faith.
Pauahi’s rearing under Kīnaʻu is described by George Hueu Sanford as a childhood under a “second Kamehameha:"
For the next eight years, until 1839, Pauahi was to be mothered, nourished, loved, protected, clothed, and taught by her foster mother Kahoʻanokū Kīnaʻu. Kīnaʻu was the eldest daughter of Kamehameha the Great and was but 26 years old in 1831. Standing six feet tall and weighing “over four hundred pounds," she was said to bear "a remarkable resemblance" to her father. She had also inherited many of his fine qualities. As Kamakau states: "She had the courage of a man. Had she been one, she would have been a second Kamehameha." Elizabeth Kīnaʻu Judd compared her to other chiefesses and judged her to be "far superior" and "a woman of strong character and a firm friend of progress." Of Kamehameha's daughters, she came the closest to exemplifying his character and leadership.
Though still relatively young, she had already experienced the joys and sorrows of being a wife and mother. At an early age she was one of the wives of Liholiho, who died tragically while touring London in 1823. She then was married to the Chief Kahalaiʻa who in 1826, along with many other chiefs, died during an epidemic of whooping cough. A few months later, she met the High Chief Kekūanaōʻa at the funeral of his wife Pauahi, the half-sister of Konia and Bernice's namesake. Chiefesses sought after Kekūanaōʻa as a husband because, as Iʻi noted, he was "well supplied with tools for farming and fishing." Kīnaʻu married him the next year and by 1831 had borne three sons: David, Moses Kekūāiwa, and Lot Kapuāiwa (or Lot Kamehameha). Kīnaʻu also bore Kekūanaōʻa another son, Alexander ʻlolani and a daughter, Victoria Kamāmalu. When the baby Pauahi entered her embrace, it could be said, as Mrs. Judd did, that Kīnaʻu was already "a loving, exemplary wife" and "a tender mother."
By this time, Kīnaʻu was also a confirmed member of the Protestant faith. She had been baptized in 1825, at the same time as Kaʻahumanu. As we will see by the kinds of policies she promoted as kuhina nui, Kīnaʻu was a staunch supporter of religious belief and conformity, particularly as it involved her new-found Congregationalism. It is hard to tell how much she allowed Jehovah and Christ to replace the Hawaiian gods Kāne, Kū, Kanaloa or Lono and the beloved ʻaumākua (ancestral spirits), but she could not have abandoned completely her traditional beliefs and practices. After all, she still believed in her aliʻi status and its sacred prerogatives which were rooted in the ancient myths and values.
While she still clung to many aspects of her old culture, Kīnaʻu adopted a progressive stance toward the inevitable changes, precipitated by Cook's arrival, that were already reshaping the social, economic, political, and cultural character of Hawaiʻi. By 1831 she had already learned to read and write and to appreciate the mana of the palapala (or written word) and its enormous implications for change in the education and thinking of Hawaiians. Like all the other aliʻi, she enthusiastically supported the founding of the first school, Lahainaluna, in the earlier part of that year. “The chiefs were all eager for education," says Kamakau, so much so that "educated people were like chiefs... because the chiefs treated them as chiefs." This high premium placed on knowledge, in this case gained through Western schooling, was a reaffirmation of a standard that prevailed throughout the history of ka poʻe kahiko (the people of old).
Less than seven months after Pauahi's arrival in Kīnaʻu's household, the Queen Regent Kaʻahumanu died. This event thrust Kīnaʻu into the office of kuhina nui or prime minister of the kingdom. She retained the position until she died in 1839, though she had to maintain an uneasy balance of power between herself and King Kauikeaouli (Kamehameha III), who was only eighteen years of age, and other contending political forces. Pauahi was raised by a prime minister in a home that was at times at the vortex of Hawaiian politics, with all of its excitement and pathos, idealism and intrigue, glory and failure.
Although Kīnaʻu was indisputably the central figure in Pauahi's life during this period, another who played an important role was Kekūanaōʻa, her foster father. By 1831 he had already gained considerable respect in royal circles. He was a favorite of Liholiho whom he had accompanied to London and served in various responsible capacities. As a result of his travels, Kekūanaōʻa had experienced first-hand the advances made by Western science and technology and had no illusions about what needed to be done if his people were to adapt to the new world. He, too, had learned how to read and write and had an immense regard for education. Many years later he would become the equivalent of a minister of education in the Hawaiian government. Like Kīnaʻu, he had joined the church and eventually became one of its chief defenders. John Papa Iʻi said of him: "All truly admired Kekūanaōʻa and loved him for the many good things he did and for his unlimited kindness." Finally, as mentioned earlier, his relationship with the child Pauahi was influenced by the fact that he had once been married to her aunt and was also the father of her only cousin, Ruth Keʻelikōlani.
No doubt, there were other persons during this period who exerted an influence on Pauahi and her development. These included her kahu or attendants, who hovered over her constantly anticipating and providing for every possible want. All aliʻi children were looked after by a bevy of kahu, and those of the highest rank usually had the largest number of attendants. Sometimes one person would be assigned the role of principal kahu, which made that person almost a surrogate parent. We are not certain about how this part of Pauahi's life was organized, but it seems reasonable to believe that as a child she learned a great deal by observing or imitating her kahu. In addition, Pauahi must also have come in frequent, if not daily, contact with her royal relatives and family friends, since the Hawaiian household was an ʻohana or extended family rather than a nuclear one. Lastly, she would have also had a select group of playmates of aliʻi rank with whom she would have spent a great deal of time over this period of years.
If the child is father to the man or, more appropriately in this case, mother to the woman, then these persons, along with the events and activities of which they were a part, were all critical to Pauahi's upbringing. As educational psychologists like to tell us, early experiences have an important bearing on the attitudes and values of the individual as an adult. This modern insight was also a fundamental premise of the traditional Hawaiians' understanding of human behavior, clearly revealed in the principles and practices followed in rearing and training children. In other words, Pauahi was undoubtedly influenced and molded by her foster parents, royal relatives, friends, playmates, and her kahu—by their feelings, attitudes, values, aspirations, opinions, and perceptions. The only question is how and to what extent.
Even under the best of circumstances, if we had complete information and understanding of all the personalities and factors involved, trying to answer this question with precise cause-and-effect explanations would be difficult. It is doubly difficult when we have so little information, especially documented evidence about Pauahi's personal experiences and impressions of her childhood. Nonetheless, we know enough to make some reasonable suppositions that will help to explain certain aspects of her character, as well as the origins of some of the attitudes and ideas that marked her adolescent and adult development.
Given the religious convictions of Kīnaʻu and Kekūanaōʻa, it is easy to understand why Pauahi became a Protestant. The influence of the missionaries, the Paipala or Bible, the Church and its sanctions, was rather pervasive. She must have been exposed to biblical stories, principles, and standards, if not taught them by the missionaries. Mrs. Judd was a frequent visitor and confidant of Kīnaʻu, and John Papa Iʻi, a stalwart Christian and confidant of aliʻi, was Kīnaʻu's private secretary. Pauahi must have learned to sing simple melodies, memorize Gospel truths, attend Sunday services, or somehow participate in the life of the Church, however minimal her involvement at that age. Though she might have heard or seen "ungodly" things associated with traditional Hawaiian beliefs or non-Protestant ideas, in her protected environment she was imbued with the Word. By the time she left to be enrolled in the Royal School in 1839, she was an embryonic Christian.
Not just a Christian, Pauahi had to be a Protestant or a Congrega-tionalist. This was not only because of the missionaries, but also because of Kīnaʻu's political and religious philosophy. Like her predecessor Kaʻahumanu, Kīnaʻu believed that the state or government and the people should have one common religion and that "the people should follow the religion of their chiefs." Having many religions, she believed, would generate family disputes, cause dissension in society, and make more trouble for government. Both she and Kaʻahumanu insisted on this course because they were trying to keep the kingdom unified in the face of political in-fighting and the immense changes going on in Hawaiian society. This is why she objected to the establishment of the Catholic mission, even declaring “that chief or commoner who turned to the Catholic Church was a traitor against the Hawaiian government." Persecutions of Hawaiian Catholics were severest during the "Troubled Thirties." Since the child Pauahi could not have been totally unaware of Kīnaʻu's attitude toward Catholicism, her later attitude of seeming intolerance toward Catholics may have begun here.
If becoming a Christian was the least traditional thing she could do, being an aliʻi was the most traditional thing she could be. When the haku mele intoned her sacred birth and traced her genealogical ties back to Kamehameha and Keawe and to the gods, he merely confirmed her predestined status as a chiefess. To be, to feel and think and act like an aliʻi was as natural for the aliʻi-born as it was for the makaʻāinana to be a commoner. In a society as structured and as disciplined as Hawaiian society, conforming to one's genealogically and socially defined role was necessary for acceptance, if not survival. Those who were most bound by this system were the aliʻi themselves. Everything important about Hawaiian society was designed to validate, maintain, and perpetuate the chiefly class along with its mythological underpinnings. Pauahi was a captive of the most powerful tradition of her society.
It is impossible to tell how early aliʻi children began to sense their special role, but it must have been among the first things ke keiki (the child) Pauahi sensed, if only intuitively. "Ka lani Pauahi" or "Ke aliʻi Pauahi" — words that she would hear continuously for the rest of her life—would have been among the first sounds she heard. Her aliʻi-hood would have been affirmed and reaffirmed in a thousand ways — by the treatment she received from her kahu, by the deference showed her by the makaʻāinana, by her relationships with Kīnaʻu and other aliʻi, by the rituals and symbols of Hawaiian society. Everything about her childhood in Kīnaʻu’s household validated the reality of her royal status. She could not nor would she ever forget who she was.
She was a sacred child born to power and its exercise. As an aliʻi, by virtue of her lineage and the mana or spiritual force she had inherited, she possessed the primordial right to power, if and when she chose or was chosen to exercise it. The quintessential idea in being an aliʻi was the possession and use of power. In Hawaiʻi the power of the aliʻi was ultimately extraordinary or sacred, and the Hawaiians revered and deferred to their chiefs and chiefesses. Pauahi no doubt came to understand the nature of all aliʻi-hood very early in her life, although members of an egalitarian society would find the concept difficult to comprehend.
Given this mind-set it is reasonable to conclude that the child Pauahi developed a powerful sense of personal worth and self-esteem which in turn generated feelings of confidence, independence, assurance, and pride. True, the same mind-set could transform such feelings into the arrogance, selfishness, condescension and ruthlessness of which many aliʻi were guilty. But the system had built-in safeguards in the form of social, political, and religious sanctions aimed at minimizing such abuses. The spirit of the system was conveyed by an elaborate set of moral injunctions which stressed such values as reciprocity, mālama or caring, haʻahaʻa or humility, and lokomaikaʻi or generosity.
We can imagine the growing child Pauahi being taught sayings such as these, which were all addressed to aspiring aliʻi: "E mālama i he kanaka nui, i ke kanaka iki" or "Take care of the big man and the little man," and its corollary, "I aliʻi no ke aliʻi i ke kanaka" or "A chief is a chief because of his subjects." Both emphasized the reciprocal nature of the use of power, that ruler and followers have mutual obligations. This sense of reciprocity, of giving back something of a worth equivalent to what you receive, was so deeply embedded in the psyche of every Hawaiian, that every child understood it. Pauahi would have also heard the admonition: "Ku ʻia ke hele a ka na ʻau ha ʻaha ʻa" or "A humble person walks carefully so he will not hurt those about him." In other words, don't misuse people. The aliʻi who inspires respect and allegiance is the one who doesn't throw her weight around. Ha ʻaha ʻa, she would have learned, is the aliʻi's defense against the excesses of pride and egotism. She must have learned these lessons, because in later years Ke aliʻi Pauahi would be known and praised for her caring and humility.
Another important standard she would have learned is encapsulated in the words "Eʻōpū ke aliʻi" or "Be as kind and as generous as a chief should be." Generosity was one of the building blocks of the Hawaiian social order, and the chief was the ultimate measure of generosity. The chief had the greatest amount to give and the greatest motivation; in giving generously the chief reaped honor and prestige and accrued mana. Chiefly generosity was a way of redistributing goods and services throughout the community and of "investing" in the overall development of the realm, since economics, and not altruism, denned the role of the aliʻi. This economic theory was elementary to traditional Hawaiians. If not the theory, the value of generosity or lokomaikaʻi, as an obligation that went along with chieftainship, must have been instilled in the child Pauahi and reinforced in many ways in her later years. This early training in the value of giving as an aliʻi responsibility led to the many acts of generosity that culminated in her last will and testament.
Even as a child Pauahi willingly or unwittingly learned other things about the use of power that helped to shape her attitudes as an adult. One was that aliʻi sometimes paid a heavy price in the exercise of their power. She was a firsthand witness to this, for there were many times when she felt the tension, frustration, and disappointment that showed on the face or in the voice of her prime minister mother. Kīnaʻu presided over the Kingdom in tumultuous times of "heavy trouble." There was the struggle, which nearly came to armed combat, between the kuhina nui and Liliha, who sought the governorship and control of Oʻahu. There was the fight between Kīnaʻu and the young king, who wanted to expand his own authority. There were the conflicts with chiefs who opposed her overly strict regulations on drinking, gambling, and keeping the Sabbath. And there were other troubles with the haole merchants who demanded better conditions or terms, with Catholic priests and their French backers, and with some of her own "backsliding" Hawaiian constituents. The child Pauahi may have been too young to understand all the underlying reasons for these problems, but she was not too young to store up memories and emotions about the trials of leadership which would later be reinforced by her own experiences. Perhaps these early recollections of unhappy times provide part of the answer to why she refused King Lot Kamehameha's offer of the throne in 1873.
In this aristocratic society of aliʻi endowed with divine power, rank and privilege were carefully protected by a palisade of do's and don'ts. While every child was taught these rules and their underlying values as a matter of hana pono or right behavior, the aliʻi child was subjected to the most thorough indoctrination. "The royal child mastered an intricate code governing the prerogatives of rank and the prohibitions or kapu that accompanied privilege." Although some elements of this system (such as prostrating oneself before a high aliʻi with the penalty of death for failing to do so) had disappeared by the early 1830s, the code and its spirit were still very important. For example, how you held yourself, whether kneeling, squatting or sitting, in the presence of ranking aliʻi; or the distance you kept from them, whether in conversation, processions or ceremonies — these were still considered essential in the etiquette of the times. There were no special schools or courses on royal manners, so the child Pauahi was taught these by the best of mentors, her parents and kahu, in the best of all schools, her home at court.
Perhaps, more important than the mechanics of the code were the underlying principles and values. The cardinal principle Pauahi learned was that the space around the sacred aliʻi was kapu and that to intrude on it would be to diminish an aliʻi's mana. She could not forget that the vital element of aliʻi-hood was power. Power, that is, the transcending extraordinary mana of a sacred chief, demanded respect and deference. The elaborate code of conduct and protocol was designed to maintain that attitude. As she grew up, changing times may have forced her to compromise the letter of the code, but she never forgot its spirit.
As children naturally seek models to imitate or emulate, so did Pauahi, consciously or unconsciously, seek in Kīnaʻu her model as an aliʻi and a woman. We do not know how completely she may have tried to pattern her attitudes and values after her kuhina nui-mother, but some things seem to stand out. Kīnaʻu's religious feelings, a sense of the sacred, spirituality and faith; her independence, confidence and pride, but not her reported condescension and sometimes arrogance; her great sense of responsibility and especially her courage and generosity — these attributes all seem to have been part of Pauahi's own character. There were certainly others, both positive and negative, that shaped Pauahi's thinking and behavior. Kīnaʻu's impact on Pauahi the child was long-lasting, the cumulative result of a variety of experiences repeated many times over a period of eight years.
Of equal importance to Kīnaʻu's personal impact is the effect that the events of the "troubled thirties" had on Pauahi's feelings and perceptions of the life of her people. Though she may have led a somewhat sheltered existence, by 1839 she must have sensed that life was not easy for Hawaiians, that there was a great deal of death and sickness, despondency and disillusionment, loss of pride, esteem and spirit, and not much tranquility or brotherly love in a rapidly changing and divided land. Her feelings and perceptions were not shaped by particular events happening at one moment of time, but by the cumulative effects of activities that took place with increasing regularity. Hawaiʻi was not merely in a state of transition but decline.
Pauahi's nearly eight-year sojourn with her prime minister mother came to an end on April 4,1839, when Kīnaʻu, only thirty-five years old and still "young, beautiful and unwrinkled," died of mumps. She left behind her baby daughter, Victoria Kamāmalu, whom she had given birth to only five months before—and Pauahi, whom she had loved as her own. John Papa Fi informs us that "When Kīnaʻu started on her journey from this world, she left behind much to grow and the affection and tears of her children"—excepting "the two girl babies, Kamāmalu and Kamakaʻeha (Liliʻuokalani)" who "did not understand weeping."
Both Pākī and Konia joined in the mourning. Konia was particularly grief-stricken, for she had held Kīnaʻu in high regard. Just a few months earlier, she had named her newly adopted baby girl Kamakaʻeha or "Sore eyes," after a time when Kīnaʻu was ill with "a dull headache and sore eyes." It was Kīnaʻu who took Kamakaʻeha to her breast and fed her as she did her own Kamāmalu, an act that embarrassed Konia but endeared Kīnaʻu to her.
The grief felt by Pākī and Konia was shortly followed by the joy of anticipating Pauahi's return to their home. Apparently, they had never completely gotten over the separation and now were "very desirous" of getting Pauahi back. Kekūanaōʻa, however, was not very willing to part with Pauahi because "he and the other chiefs had become very proud of the promising child." Intelligent, pretty, sensitive, determined, strong yet humble, Pauahi was viewed by many as a child of promise. Kīnaʻu must also have perceived Pauahi's potential. She seems to have happily envisioned Pauahi and Lot eventually being married, since she had apparently revealed their betrothal, at least to her sister, Kekāuluohi, who succeeded her as kuhina nui. Death saved Kīnaʻu from the disappointment of Pauahi's later refusal of Lot's offer of marriage.
In any case, Pākī persevered and soon prevailed over a very reluctant Kekūanaōʻa, and Pauahi was restored to her natural parents. Yet, for the next ten years she would hardly spend a day with them, as she would live as a boarding student in the newly established Chiefs' Children's School, also called the Royal School. She would live these years without direct parental influence and, instead, accept the affection and guidance of another woman in her life, Mrs. Juliette Montague Cooke, her teacher and confidant.
Yesterday was the anniversary of the death of Kaahumanu II, our once Princess, Kuhina Nui, Queen Regent, and Dowager Queen Kalani Ahumanu i Kaliko o Iwi Kauhipua o Kīnaʻu, also known as Elizabeth Kīnaʻu.
She was a daughter of Kamehameha I, a wife of Liholiho and a niece of Ka‘ahumanu. In 1827 she took as her third husband Mataio Kekuanao‘a, who late in his career became kuhina nui with Kamehameha V. Their daughter Victoria Kamamalu also was kuhina nui with Kamehameha IV. Kina‘u’s coregency with her half-brother Kamehameha III was marked by religious quarrels — the latter wanting to revive the old Hawaian beliefs, while she was firmly committed to the Protestant faith.
Pauahi’s rearing under Kīnaʻu is described by George Hueu Sanford as a childhood under a “second Kamehameha:"
For the next eight years, until 1839, Pauahi was to be mothered, nourished, loved, protected, clothed, and taught by her foster mother Kahoʻanokū Kīnaʻu. Kīnaʻu was the eldest daughter of Kamehameha the Great and was but 26 years old in 1831. Standing six feet tall and weighing “over four hundred pounds," she was said to bear "a remarkable resemblance" to her father. She had also inherited many of his fine qualities. As Kamakau states: "She had the courage of a man. Had she been one, she would have been a second Kamehameha." Elizabeth Kīnaʻu Judd compared her to other chiefesses and judged her to be "far superior" and "a woman of strong character and a firm friend of progress." Of Kamehameha's daughters, she came the closest to exemplifying his character and leadership.
Though still relatively young, she had already experienced the joys and sorrows of being a wife and mother. At an early age she was one of the wives of Liholiho, who died tragically while touring London in 1823. She then was married to the Chief Kahalaiʻa who in 1826, along with many other chiefs, died during an epidemic of whooping cough. A few months later, she met the High Chief Kekūanaōʻa at the funeral of his wife Pauahi, the half-sister of Konia and Bernice's namesake. Chiefesses sought after Kekūanaōʻa as a husband because, as Iʻi noted, he was "well supplied with tools for farming and fishing." Kīnaʻu married him the next year and by 1831 had borne three sons: David, Moses Kekūāiwa, and Lot Kapuāiwa (or Lot Kamehameha). Kīnaʻu also bore Kekūanaōʻa another son, Alexander ʻlolani and a daughter, Victoria Kamāmalu. When the baby Pauahi entered her embrace, it could be said, as Mrs. Judd did, that Kīnaʻu was already "a loving, exemplary wife" and "a tender mother."
By this time, Kīnaʻu was also a confirmed member of the Protestant faith. She had been baptized in 1825, at the same time as Kaʻahumanu. As we will see by the kinds of policies she promoted as kuhina nui, Kīnaʻu was a staunch supporter of religious belief and conformity, particularly as it involved her new-found Congregationalism. It is hard to tell how much she allowed Jehovah and Christ to replace the Hawaiian gods Kāne, Kū, Kanaloa or Lono and the beloved ʻaumākua (ancestral spirits), but she could not have abandoned completely her traditional beliefs and practices. After all, she still believed in her aliʻi status and its sacred prerogatives which were rooted in the ancient myths and values.
While she still clung to many aspects of her old culture, Kīnaʻu adopted a progressive stance toward the inevitable changes, precipitated by Cook's arrival, that were already reshaping the social, economic, political, and cultural character of Hawaiʻi. By 1831 she had already learned to read and write and to appreciate the mana of the palapala (or written word) and its enormous implications for change in the education and thinking of Hawaiians. Like all the other aliʻi, she enthusiastically supported the founding of the first school, Lahainaluna, in the earlier part of that year. “The chiefs were all eager for education," says Kamakau, so much so that "educated people were like chiefs... because the chiefs treated them as chiefs." This high premium placed on knowledge, in this case gained through Western schooling, was a reaffirmation of a standard that prevailed throughout the history of ka poʻe kahiko (the people of old).
Less than seven months after Pauahi's arrival in Kīnaʻu's household, the Queen Regent Kaʻahumanu died. This event thrust Kīnaʻu into the office of kuhina nui or prime minister of the kingdom. She retained the position until she died in 1839, though she had to maintain an uneasy balance of power between herself and King Kauikeaouli (Kamehameha III), who was only eighteen years of age, and other contending political forces. Pauahi was raised by a prime minister in a home that was at times at the vortex of Hawaiian politics, with all of its excitement and pathos, idealism and intrigue, glory and failure.
Although Kīnaʻu was indisputably the central figure in Pauahi's life during this period, another who played an important role was Kekūanaōʻa, her foster father. By 1831 he had already gained considerable respect in royal circles. He was a favorite of Liholiho whom he had accompanied to London and served in various responsible capacities. As a result of his travels, Kekūanaōʻa had experienced first-hand the advances made by Western science and technology and had no illusions about what needed to be done if his people were to adapt to the new world. He, too, had learned how to read and write and had an immense regard for education. Many years later he would become the equivalent of a minister of education in the Hawaiian government. Like Kīnaʻu, he had joined the church and eventually became one of its chief defenders. John Papa Iʻi said of him: "All truly admired Kekūanaōʻa and loved him for the many good things he did and for his unlimited kindness." Finally, as mentioned earlier, his relationship with the child Pauahi was influenced by the fact that he had once been married to her aunt and was also the father of her only cousin, Ruth Keʻelikōlani.
No doubt, there were other persons during this period who exerted an influence on Pauahi and her development. These included her kahu or attendants, who hovered over her constantly anticipating and providing for every possible want. All aliʻi children were looked after by a bevy of kahu, and those of the highest rank usually had the largest number of attendants. Sometimes one person would be assigned the role of principal kahu, which made that person almost a surrogate parent. We are not certain about how this part of Pauahi's life was organized, but it seems reasonable to believe that as a child she learned a great deal by observing or imitating her kahu. In addition, Pauahi must also have come in frequent, if not daily, contact with her royal relatives and family friends, since the Hawaiian household was an ʻohana or extended family rather than a nuclear one. Lastly, she would have also had a select group of playmates of aliʻi rank with whom she would have spent a great deal of time over this period of years.
If the child is father to the man or, more appropriately in this case, mother to the woman, then these persons, along with the events and activities of which they were a part, were all critical to Pauahi's upbringing. As educational psychologists like to tell us, early experiences have an important bearing on the attitudes and values of the individual as an adult. This modern insight was also a fundamental premise of the traditional Hawaiians' understanding of human behavior, clearly revealed in the principles and practices followed in rearing and training children. In other words, Pauahi was undoubtedly influenced and molded by her foster parents, royal relatives, friends, playmates, and her kahu—by their feelings, attitudes, values, aspirations, opinions, and perceptions. The only question is how and to what extent.
Even under the best of circumstances, if we had complete information and understanding of all the personalities and factors involved, trying to answer this question with precise cause-and-effect explanations would be difficult. It is doubly difficult when we have so little information, especially documented evidence about Pauahi's personal experiences and impressions of her childhood. Nonetheless, we know enough to make some reasonable suppositions that will help to explain certain aspects of her character, as well as the origins of some of the attitudes and ideas that marked her adolescent and adult development.
Given the religious convictions of Kīnaʻu and Kekūanaōʻa, it is easy to understand why Pauahi became a Protestant. The influence of the missionaries, the Paipala or Bible, the Church and its sanctions, was rather pervasive. She must have been exposed to biblical stories, principles, and standards, if not taught them by the missionaries. Mrs. Judd was a frequent visitor and confidant of Kīnaʻu, and John Papa Iʻi, a stalwart Christian and confidant of aliʻi, was Kīnaʻu's private secretary. Pauahi must have learned to sing simple melodies, memorize Gospel truths, attend Sunday services, or somehow participate in the life of the Church, however minimal her involvement at that age. Though she might have heard or seen "ungodly" things associated with traditional Hawaiian beliefs or non-Protestant ideas, in her protected environment she was imbued with the Word. By the time she left to be enrolled in the Royal School in 1839, she was an embryonic Christian.
Not just a Christian, Pauahi had to be a Protestant or a Congrega-tionalist. This was not only because of the missionaries, but also because of Kīnaʻu's political and religious philosophy. Like her predecessor Kaʻahumanu, Kīnaʻu believed that the state or government and the people should have one common religion and that "the people should follow the religion of their chiefs." Having many religions, she believed, would generate family disputes, cause dissension in society, and make more trouble for government. Both she and Kaʻahumanu insisted on this course because they were trying to keep the kingdom unified in the face of political in-fighting and the immense changes going on in Hawaiian society. This is why she objected to the establishment of the Catholic mission, even declaring “that chief or commoner who turned to the Catholic Church was a traitor against the Hawaiian government." Persecutions of Hawaiian Catholics were severest during the "Troubled Thirties." Since the child Pauahi could not have been totally unaware of Kīnaʻu's attitude toward Catholicism, her later attitude of seeming intolerance toward Catholics may have begun here.
If becoming a Christian was the least traditional thing she could do, being an aliʻi was the most traditional thing she could be. When the haku mele intoned her sacred birth and traced her genealogical ties back to Kamehameha and Keawe and to the gods, he merely confirmed her predestined status as a chiefess. To be, to feel and think and act like an aliʻi was as natural for the aliʻi-born as it was for the makaʻāinana to be a commoner. In a society as structured and as disciplined as Hawaiian society, conforming to one's genealogically and socially defined role was necessary for acceptance, if not survival. Those who were most bound by this system were the aliʻi themselves. Everything important about Hawaiian society was designed to validate, maintain, and perpetuate the chiefly class along with its mythological underpinnings. Pauahi was a captive of the most powerful tradition of her society.
It is impossible to tell how early aliʻi children began to sense their special role, but it must have been among the first things ke keiki (the child) Pauahi sensed, if only intuitively. "Ka lani Pauahi" or "Ke aliʻi Pauahi" — words that she would hear continuously for the rest of her life—would have been among the first sounds she heard. Her aliʻi-hood would have been affirmed and reaffirmed in a thousand ways — by the treatment she received from her kahu, by the deference showed her by the makaʻāinana, by her relationships with Kīnaʻu and other aliʻi, by the rituals and symbols of Hawaiian society. Everything about her childhood in Kīnaʻu’s household validated the reality of her royal status. She could not nor would she ever forget who she was.
She was a sacred child born to power and its exercise. As an aliʻi, by virtue of her lineage and the mana or spiritual force she had inherited, she possessed the primordial right to power, if and when she chose or was chosen to exercise it. The quintessential idea in being an aliʻi was the possession and use of power. In Hawaiʻi the power of the aliʻi was ultimately extraordinary or sacred, and the Hawaiians revered and deferred to their chiefs and chiefesses. Pauahi no doubt came to understand the nature of all aliʻi-hood very early in her life, although members of an egalitarian society would find the concept difficult to comprehend.
Given this mind-set it is reasonable to conclude that the child Pauahi developed a powerful sense of personal worth and self-esteem which in turn generated feelings of confidence, independence, assurance, and pride. True, the same mind-set could transform such feelings into the arrogance, selfishness, condescension and ruthlessness of which many aliʻi were guilty. But the system had built-in safeguards in the form of social, political, and religious sanctions aimed at minimizing such abuses. The spirit of the system was conveyed by an elaborate set of moral injunctions which stressed such values as reciprocity, mālama or caring, haʻahaʻa or humility, and lokomaikaʻi or generosity.
We can imagine the growing child Pauahi being taught sayings such as these, which were all addressed to aspiring aliʻi: "E mālama i he kanaka nui, i ke kanaka iki" or "Take care of the big man and the little man," and its corollary, "I aliʻi no ke aliʻi i ke kanaka" or "A chief is a chief because of his subjects." Both emphasized the reciprocal nature of the use of power, that ruler and followers have mutual obligations. This sense of reciprocity, of giving back something of a worth equivalent to what you receive, was so deeply embedded in the psyche of every Hawaiian, that every child understood it. Pauahi would have also heard the admonition: "Ku ʻia ke hele a ka na ʻau ha ʻaha ʻa" or "A humble person walks carefully so he will not hurt those about him." In other words, don't misuse people. The aliʻi who inspires respect and allegiance is the one who doesn't throw her weight around. Ha ʻaha ʻa, she would have learned, is the aliʻi's defense against the excesses of pride and egotism. She must have learned these lessons, because in later years Ke aliʻi Pauahi would be known and praised for her caring and humility.
Another important standard she would have learned is encapsulated in the words "Eʻōpū ke aliʻi" or "Be as kind and as generous as a chief should be." Generosity was one of the building blocks of the Hawaiian social order, and the chief was the ultimate measure of generosity. The chief had the greatest amount to give and the greatest motivation; in giving generously the chief reaped honor and prestige and accrued mana. Chiefly generosity was a way of redistributing goods and services throughout the community and of "investing" in the overall development of the realm, since economics, and not altruism, denned the role of the aliʻi. This economic theory was elementary to traditional Hawaiians. If not the theory, the value of generosity or lokomaikaʻi, as an obligation that went along with chieftainship, must have been instilled in the child Pauahi and reinforced in many ways in her later years. This early training in the value of giving as an aliʻi responsibility led to the many acts of generosity that culminated in her last will and testament.
Even as a child Pauahi willingly or unwittingly learned other things about the use of power that helped to shape her attitudes as an adult. One was that aliʻi sometimes paid a heavy price in the exercise of their power. She was a firsthand witness to this, for there were many times when she felt the tension, frustration, and disappointment that showed on the face or in the voice of her prime minister mother. Kīnaʻu presided over the Kingdom in tumultuous times of "heavy trouble." There was the struggle, which nearly came to armed combat, between the kuhina nui and Liliha, who sought the governorship and control of Oʻahu. There was the fight between Kīnaʻu and the young king, who wanted to expand his own authority. There were the conflicts with chiefs who opposed her overly strict regulations on drinking, gambling, and keeping the Sabbath. And there were other troubles with the haole merchants who demanded better conditions or terms, with Catholic priests and their French backers, and with some of her own "backsliding" Hawaiian constituents. The child Pauahi may have been too young to understand all the underlying reasons for these problems, but she was not too young to store up memories and emotions about the trials of leadership which would later be reinforced by her own experiences. Perhaps these early recollections of unhappy times provide part of the answer to why she refused King Lot Kamehameha's offer of the throne in 1873.
In this aristocratic society of aliʻi endowed with divine power, rank and privilege were carefully protected by a palisade of do's and don'ts. While every child was taught these rules and their underlying values as a matter of hana pono or right behavior, the aliʻi child was subjected to the most thorough indoctrination. "The royal child mastered an intricate code governing the prerogatives of rank and the prohibitions or kapu that accompanied privilege." Although some elements of this system (such as prostrating oneself before a high aliʻi with the penalty of death for failing to do so) had disappeared by the early 1830s, the code and its spirit were still very important. For example, how you held yourself, whether kneeling, squatting or sitting, in the presence of ranking aliʻi; or the distance you kept from them, whether in conversation, processions or ceremonies — these were still considered essential in the etiquette of the times. There were no special schools or courses on royal manners, so the child Pauahi was taught these by the best of mentors, her parents and kahu, in the best of all schools, her home at court.
Perhaps, more important than the mechanics of the code were the underlying principles and values. The cardinal principle Pauahi learned was that the space around the sacred aliʻi was kapu and that to intrude on it would be to diminish an aliʻi's mana. She could not forget that the vital element of aliʻi-hood was power. Power, that is, the transcending extraordinary mana of a sacred chief, demanded respect and deference. The elaborate code of conduct and protocol was designed to maintain that attitude. As she grew up, changing times may have forced her to compromise the letter of the code, but she never forgot its spirit.
As children naturally seek models to imitate or emulate, so did Pauahi, consciously or unconsciously, seek in Kīnaʻu her model as an aliʻi and a woman. We do not know how completely she may have tried to pattern her attitudes and values after her kuhina nui-mother, but some things seem to stand out. Kīnaʻu's religious feelings, a sense of the sacred, spirituality and faith; her independence, confidence and pride, but not her reported condescension and sometimes arrogance; her great sense of responsibility and especially her courage and generosity — these attributes all seem to have been part of Pauahi's own character. There were certainly others, both positive and negative, that shaped Pauahi's thinking and behavior. Kīnaʻu's impact on Pauahi the child was long-lasting, the cumulative result of a variety of experiences repeated many times over a period of eight years.
Of equal importance to Kīnaʻu's personal impact is the effect that the events of the "troubled thirties" had on Pauahi's feelings and perceptions of the life of her people. Though she may have led a somewhat sheltered existence, by 1839 she must have sensed that life was not easy for Hawaiians, that there was a great deal of death and sickness, despondency and disillusionment, loss of pride, esteem and spirit, and not much tranquility or brotherly love in a rapidly changing and divided land. Her feelings and perceptions were not shaped by particular events happening at one moment of time, but by the cumulative effects of activities that took place with increasing regularity. Hawaiʻi was not merely in a state of transition but decline.
Pauahi's nearly eight-year sojourn with her prime minister mother came to an end on April 4,1839, when Kīnaʻu, only thirty-five years old and still "young, beautiful and unwrinkled," died of mumps. She left behind her baby daughter, Victoria Kamāmalu, whom she had given birth to only five months before—and Pauahi, whom she had loved as her own. John Papa Fi informs us that "When Kīnaʻu started on her journey from this world, she left behind much to grow and the affection and tears of her children"—excepting "the two girl babies, Kamāmalu and Kamakaʻeha (Liliʻuokalani)" who "did not understand weeping."
Both Pākī and Konia joined in the mourning. Konia was particularly grief-stricken, for she had held Kīnaʻu in high regard. Just a few months earlier, she had named her newly adopted baby girl Kamakaʻeha or "Sore eyes," after a time when Kīnaʻu was ill with "a dull headache and sore eyes." It was Kīnaʻu who took Kamakaʻeha to her breast and fed her as she did her own Kamāmalu, an act that embarrassed Konia but endeared Kīnaʻu to her.
The grief felt by Pākī and Konia was shortly followed by the joy of anticipating Pauahi's return to their home. Apparently, they had never completely gotten over the separation and now were "very desirous" of getting Pauahi back. Kekūanaōʻa, however, was not very willing to part with Pauahi because "he and the other chiefs had become very proud of the promising child." Intelligent, pretty, sensitive, determined, strong yet humble, Pauahi was viewed by many as a child of promise. Kīnaʻu must also have perceived Pauahi's potential. She seems to have happily envisioned Pauahi and Lot eventually being married, since she had apparently revealed their betrothal, at least to her sister, Kekāuluohi, who succeeded her as kuhina nui. Death saved Kīnaʻu from the disappointment of Pauahi's later refusal of Lot's offer of marriage.
In any case, Pākī persevered and soon prevailed over a very reluctant Kekūanaōʻa, and Pauahi was restored to her natural parents. Yet, for the next ten years she would hardly spend a day with them, as she would live as a boarding student in the newly established Chiefs' Children's School, also called the Royal School. She would live these years without direct parental influence and, instead, accept the affection and guidance of another woman in her life, Mrs. Juliette Montague Cooke, her teacher and confidant.