The Devil in Paradise--Captain Putnam in Hawaii

by James L. Haley

Their walk lengthened to nearly a quarter of a mile; they passed beyond the shelter of the harbor, and they heard the small dull boom of the surf on their left. “You and Mrs. Albright have had no qualms about living apart from the others?”

  She laughed. “None at all. These are wonderful people, quick, intelligent, funny, hospitable. That was quite a little tête-à-tête you had with the prime minister during the games. Did you learn much?”

  “He is a highly interesting fellow. He was the old king’s right-hand man, and apparently he is even more indispensable to the queen. He has accepted an invitation to visit the ship tomorrow.”

  They reached her pili, in a clearing looking out upon a small private beach. It was longer than it was wide, divided halfway down its length by a matted bamboo partition into a sitting room and bedchamber.

  They undressed by the light of two candles in their glass globes.

  “That was an interesting name that the queen had for you. What was it?”

  She laid the baby in his cradle. “Ben. I shall like calling him Ben.” Clarity freed herself from her shoes and was unlacing her bodice. “‘Missy La Laelae.’ It is a play on my name. Do you remember our poor friend Henry used to call me Miss Clear Day? Hopu told this to the queen, and explained to her the meaning of my given name, and just as quick as anything she called out, ‘I shall call her Missy La Laelae!’”

  “Where, then, is the witticism?”

  “Well, you see, in the romance languages, ‘la’ is an article, similar but more specific than our word ‘the.’ But in Hawaiian ‘la’ is a noun; it is their word for ‘day,’ or ‘sun.’ Their adjective for ‘clear’ is based on the same root as ‘day,’ since daylight makes things clear, you see? Their word for ‘clear’ is ‘laelae.’ So ‘Missy La Laelae’ is simply ‘Miss Clear Day’ rendered in their own tongue. The fact that it sounds so musical is just an accident of the language, but you may trust me on this, they are keenly aware of the beauty of their language.”

  “Well, the queen does seem like a good-hearted sort, although perhaps not very sophisticated.”

  “Oh, ho, don’t you underestimate her, she has a backbone of strap iron. She understands how she came to power and what she must do to keep it. I was at court one day when she sentenced someone to death, and I would not care to cross her on such a day.”

  “Really!”

  “Reverend Bingham knows her better than anyone, and he compares her to the emperor Constantine.”

  “Truly? In what way?”

  “He says it was Constantine who made Christianity the religion of the Roman Empire, but in exchange he required absolute loyalty from the Church. He would let God be the lord of heaven, but only if God would let him be the lord of the earth. And Mr. Bingham is right, Kahumanu has a very similar understanding of things.”

  She removed her chemise and draped a shawl over her shoulders before lifting Ben from his cradle to nurse.

  “Why do you cover yourself to give Ben his supper?”

  A troubled look flickered across her face.

  “What is it, my love? Tell me.”

  “Bliv, dearest, I know that you must know that having a baby, well, changes a woman. She will knit back together, sort of, after a time, but for a while she is not the most appetizing sight in the world.”

  He could see her hand moving beneath the shawl, stroking the baby as he nursed. “Oh, dear Lord, you don’t think you’re pretty anymore!” Bliven exclaimed. “And all this time I thought it was the most natural thing in the world, and as hard as we worked for it—aside from being my fault. I mean, I am the one who did this to you.”

  She stood, smiling, letting the blanket fall from her shoulders, revealing her breasts, larger than he remembered, a net of blood vessels converging upon the nipple he could see, swollen and discolored. Ben continued undisturbed at the other.

  In a moment, he pulled his shirt up over his shoulders and draped it over a chair, leaving him naked, his long months of deprivation quickly apparent. “This is rather where we left things, is it not?” he asked softly.

  “Yes,” she answered, then added slowly: “And you see in my arms how that turned out.”

  His face went slack, until she grinned and he saw her mischief returning.

  She sat on the edge of the bed, nursing until Ben refused any more, and with the least rocking went to sleep. “He is such a little man: eat, sleep, soil his linen, ‘Thank you very much.’” She laid him in his crib and stretched out beside Bliven.

  “I also,” he whispered. “I do not know but I have heard that having a baby makes some women not desire their husbands for a time. Are you—”

  She laid her fingers over his mouth, then kissed him. “Never doubt how much I want you.”

  Their passion grew, and when he mounted, indeed it was different. “I am not hurting you?”

  “No, my dearest. I have waited for so long.”

  They continued, rocking in bliss and rhythm, when he stopped suddenly. “What was that?”

  “What?”

  “Shh.”

  The silence hung heavy for several seconds, then there came from beyond the bamboo partition the tiniest snort, and titter, and then the sound of feet running out their door.

  “What the devil!” he hissed.

  She cried out as he withdrew, covering herself as he snatched up his sword and ran out the door after whoever had been spying. When he came back he was swearing lividly, and cast his sword into the chair.

  “Be careful with that thing! Never know what you might cut off.” She covered her face with her hands and shrieked in laughter.

  He cast himself onto the bed.

  “Did you find anyone?”

  “No. Couldn’t get very far like this.”

  “Oh! I am certain that you gave them an eyeful. Oh, my heavens. We are a long way from Connecticut, are we not, dearest?”

  He started to say something but gave it up, let out his breath, and shook his head.

  “Well, don’t make an issue of it. I will take it up with the queen and see if we can do anything about it.”

  * * *

  * * *

  IN THE MORNING a young Hawaiian woman arrived and built up a fire in front of the house, where she prepared a breakfast of pork, eggs, bread, tea, and slabs of fresh golden pineapple, a fruit that Bliven pronounced the most wonderful thing he had ever eaten. He and Clarity were up, washing and dressing as soon as they heard her stirring about. “Aloha, Missy,” the young woman said as they moved chairs outside to eat in the open.

  “Mahalo, Keikilani. Bliv dearest, this is Keikilani; she helps me around the house.”

  “So there are servants in paradise?”

  “Yes, well, what you saw last night were the chiefs and courtiers. I am afraid that not many of the joys of paradise extend down to the commoners. Life for the kanakas is very hard.”

  “How so?”

  “Think of the ancien régime: ‘Let them eat cake.’ It is the little people who catch the fish and raise the pigs and grow the kalo, then hand most of it up to the chiefs for the privilege of living on the chiefs’ land. They have done it for so many centuries, they have no idea of a different way. The chiefs who are so nice to you and me have little regard for them. Reverend Bingham was almost thrown out for wanting to preach to them. The first thing the queen said was that if the word of God is a good thing, it belongs to the chiefs, not the country people. That is the dark side of missionary work, dearest, helping the least of these. Nurse them when they’re sick, give them some basic tool they are lacking—yes, employ them, for even a little money gives them some independence.”

  “I didn’t know,” he said after a moment.

  “Keikilani there found herself with child, and after it was born, Mr. Chamberlain discovered her digging a hole in which to bury it.”

  “It was born dead?�
��

  “No.” She looked at him sternly until she was sure he understood. “But many of the kanakas have so little hope, they can’t bear to bring more children into the world. Mr. Chamberlain took it up with Reverend Bingham, and they gave her the means to keep and raise her child.”

  “Dear God, they kill their own newborns? Is this a common occurrence?”

  “More than we can generally bear to talk about.”

  “Oh, my love, you did not bargain for this back in Connecticut.”

  “No. We are inured to their cruelties, but now we know better why God sent us.”

  Bliven shook his head sadly. “Well, if you were one of my officers I would cite you for gallantry. Speaking of which, I must get out to the ship. For the coming days you may think of me going to the office in the mornings. There are a hundred things to be done before we go on.”

  He found his gig waiting at the pier, the helmsman holding the rope that kept them at the pier. “Good morning, Captain.”

  “Good morning, Briggs.” The helmsman cast off and the sweeps began to pull through the calm harbor water. “You are behaving very discreetly.”

  “Sir?”

  “You must be dying to ask about shore leave. Ease your mind, we are going to attend to it today.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The bosun saw them approach and, as Bliven topped the ladder, piped him aboard with his silver whistle, causing all on deck to snap to attention and salute. “Thank you, Mr. Yeakel. Please have the officers assemble in my cabin at once.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  “Mr. Yeakel?”

  “Sir?”

  “I think it is time to undertake your big job. Can you commence with the rerigging?”

  “At any time, sir.”

  “Sooner begun, sooner finished, Mr. Yeakel.”

  Bliven was no sooner in his sea cabin than his officers entered one by one. “Well, gentlemen,” he told the group, “I think we learned last night that we have landed on a congenial shore, and we may begin apportioning shore liberties among the men. Unless someone has a better suggestion, I think we can send them ashore by the messes. The men in each mess know and will look out for one another, and with one mess ashore each evening, two will remain on the ship, and every man will get one night in three ashore. Now, I think this quite liberal. Mr. Erb, you will pay each man one half of the wages owed him, less what you have debited for his slops and supplies. This will prevent any man from ruining himself with gambling on his first night ashore. Warrant officers who tend their duties by day may have shore leave any evening, and by day with need and permission. Officers have the freedom of the shore except when one has the deck, with night watches to be divided among the lieutenants one night in three. Does anyone have anything to add?”

  “Captain,” said Miller, “a few of us went ashore to investigate the town earlier this morning. We were told that since the whalers began calling here there has been talk of providing a seamen’s bethel and lending library, but it is not yet a reality.”

  “Oh, good God! Somehow I do not think that a chapel and reading room are the first needs that our men will address. No offense, Reverend Mutterbach.” The chaplain smiled and raised his hands in surrender. “Does Honoruru have enough of a commercial district to entertain a third of our crew without being overwhelmed?”

  “Yes, sir,” said Jackson. “Once word spread of the growing number of ships calling here, there was a busy district of bars and cafés.”

  “A more serious matter, sir,” said Erb. “I have spoken with the American agent, who tells me that the incoming amount of ships’ provisions have not been well able to meet the demand from the growing number of vessels calling here. He can supply us some salt meats and biscuit, but likely not enough to fill our needs.”

  “Captain,” said Miller, “are we not going to Lahaina from here to inquire further after the abused Captain Saeger? More ships call there than here. It seems that we could take on what we can here and top off there.”

  “Yes, that is how we shall do it.”

  At noon Bliven took his gig back to the pier to await Karaimoku, who emerged from the royal compound just as they tied up, as though he had been waiting. This day he wore native dress that revealed his tattoos and powerful chest.

  They exchanged pleasantries on the pull out to the Rappahannock, and then Bliven said, “Mr. Pitt, may I ask you something? You need not answer if you find it too personal.”

  “What is it?”

  “I know that the English and Americans call you Mr. Pitt, but I am curious: What does your real name mean?”

  “It means Sacred Ships.”

  “How fascinating! Do you know why you were given this name?”

  Karaimoku nodded. “At the time I was born, it had to do with a ceremony in the old religion. We had a year-end festival, and at its end a canoe was laden with our finest foods and sent to sea as an offering to Lono, the storm god. I believe I was named for that. But when the ship came bringing your missionaries and the word of God, I took it as a sign that I should help them however I could.”

  “I see.”

  On board, Karaimoku evinced curiosity about everything, beginning with their figurehead of Mary Washington. Westerners always pointed out that Washington’s wife’s name was Martha and always had to be corrected that as the ship was named for the river of Washington’s boyhood home, the figurehead was of his mother. Karaimoku was well aware of the difference between long guns and carronades; in the hold below, after a moment’s demoralization at the sight of Beecher the giant tortoise, he paid the strictest attention to the close ribbing in the hold and the diagonal knees that held up the berth deck. The largest vessel that had been built in the islands was a barge for the king, but it was apparent that Karaimoku was taking careful note of Rappahannock’s improved construction.

  * * *

  * * *

  IT TOOK THREE days before Kahumanu convened her court again, and Clarity repaired there as soon as she heard of it. When the queen saw her at the edge of the circle, she called out. “Missy La Laelae! Come to me, we are glad to see you.” As Clarity approached she added, “How is your baby?”

  At the foot of the dais Clarity dropped into a curtsy. “He is well, ma’am, thank you for asking. He is with Mrs. Albright.”

  “Come to me.” The queen patted her thigh, and Clarity sat upon it. “What will you tell me today of our Lord Jesus Christ?”

  “Our Lord, ma’am, knew well those parts of the holy book that were written before he came down to earth to live among us. Part of that holy book is a collection of wise sayings that are good advice for everyone to live by; they are called the proverbs. One that I like is ‘Who can find a virtuous woman? For her price is far above rubies.’”

  Kahumanu shook her head slowly. “That is not a general principle such as those you have been telling me. What is the meaning of this saying?”

  Clarity’s search for words was apparent in her halting speech. “Ma’am, in a place like this, it is hard for a woman to maintain her dignity when there is no privacy, when anyone may look in upon her at any time.”

  “Missy, something is on your mind. What is it? You may speak plainly.”

  It took all her courage to say it in front of the whole court. “Ma’am, I had not seen my husband in a year. He will be here only a short time. A few nights ago, we were watched while we were . . . together.”

  The queen appeared to ignore the titter that rippled through the court. “Perhaps they were curious. Many have heard that missionaries do their mating in a strange way.” She gave herself away by almost laughing.

  Clarity blushed to deep crimson. “But, Majesty, how would you feel if you discovered that someone was observing you at such an intimate moment?”

  Kahumanu considered it, and then her eyes lit up and she looked up at her ladies. “I don’t know. Is he
young and handsome?” The court erupted in laughter, with which Clarity had no choice but to join, then covered her face. The queen patted her back. “There, now, Missy. Is it not better to laugh at such things than burn ourselves with shame?” She sighed. “But very well. Hear me, everyone! From this time I lay a new kapu. No one may approach the houses of the missionaries closer than twenty paces except you announce yourself with a greeting, that they may know you are coming. Place kapu sticks twenty paces from their houses. See to it that the country people learn of this. Disobey this command at my displeasure.”

  “A kapu, ma’am?” Clarity gave her a searching look. “I thought the old religion was dead.”

  “The religion is dead, but I am still the law. This will preserve your dignity in future.” The slight pressure at her back told her it was time to dismount.

  That afternoon brought the arrival of a sleek schooner, the Albacore, flying the American flag, and with her home port of Boston painted across her stern. She was particularly welcome, both for her cargo of salt pork and for being laden with letters addressed via the American agent, who dispatched a large packet of them to Bingham to distribute among the missionaries.

  It was evening before Bliven arrived at their pili and sat reading by a lamp lighted with whale oil, a sure advantage of living in a port town at the edge of the whaling grounds. “Good Lord!” he said, shattering the quiet.

  Clarity was startled in the bed where she lay, reaching aside to gently rock Ben’s cradle. “What is it, dearest?”

  He held a letter out at arm’s length. “There is a letter from Brazil. You are going to have a baby!”

  “Mercy! If the posts move any faster, they will begin telling our fortunes.”

  Bliven’s visage fell as he regarded the next letter and broke its wax seal.

  LITCHFIELD, CONN.

  JULY THE 17TH, 1820

  My own dear Son,

  This letter, I presume, will reach you in some “Pacific” place, which I hope will betoken not merely the geographical location, but describe a peaceable cruise in that far place. My dearest boy, it is my duty to convey to you that sad news which we have long been expecting, but hoping would be forestalled for as long as the dear Lord would allow. Your excellent father departed this life one week ago. Over time, his slumbers had become deeper, his speech softer. I was sitting with him when he opened his eyes and looked at me, took his last breath, and went to heaven. He did not suffer. That I who loved him so much was the last thing on this earth that he saw, I attribute to the immeasurable blessing and mercy always shown us in our long life together.