III.
War soon occurred between Kamehameha and the independent chiefs of Hilo and Kau, but, as no marked advantages to either side resulted, Kamehameha established his court at Halaula, in Kohala, and occupied himself in improving the condition of his people. During the campaign he had met with some reverses, but Keeaumoku’s faith in the final triumph of his great leader remained unshaken through every disaster. He thought he saw in him that captain, greater than Kalaniopuu, of whom the poet dreamed in Hana, and was soon after confirmed in the belief by the definite prophecy of Keaulumoku.
Restlessly roaming from place to place, the old singer finally selected a temporary abode near Halaula, shortly after the removal of the court of Kamehameha to that village. There he was frequently visited by Keeaumoku, sometimes accompanied by Kaahumanu, who was budding into an attractive womanhood, and sometimes by Namahana, who regarded him with a reverence due to one whose utterances seemed to be inspired by the gods.
Since the death of Kalaniopuu the voice of Keaulumoku had been silent. He mourned over the distracted condition of the island, and sympathized with the people in their enforced warfare with each other. Vainly had he sought to penetrate the mists of desolation and disorder, and catch a glimpse of what was beyond. No light had come to him through the clouds; to his prayers no answering voice had whispered in his dreams.
But the curtain was raised for him at last, and, as the shades of the future trooped before him in awful pantomime, in a voice wild as the winds sweeping through the gorge of Nuuanu he chanted the prophetic mele of Hau-i-Kalani. After describing the horrors of the civil war then desolating the island, he concluded by predicting that Kamehameha would triumph over his enemies, and in the end be hailed as the greatest of Hawaiian conquerors.
The chant created great enthusiasm among the followers of Kamehameha. Keeaumoku listened to it with rapt attention, and at its conclusion stooped over the old poet and said:
“I asked you a question in Hana, which you did not answer then. Is it answered now?”
Keaulumoku looked into the face of the chief for a moment as if to collect his thoughts, and then dreamily replied:
“It is answered!”
“Such was my thought,” returned the chief. “I have some rare dainties from the sea. Come and eat with me to-night, and I will ask to be taught the mele you have just chanted.”
Keaulumoku made no reply, and Keeaumoku walked slowly toward the palace, trying to remember the words of the poet which had so thrilled his listeners.
What occurred between Keeaumoku and the old poet during their repast that evening will never be known; but certain it is that henceforth Keeaumoku never doubted the final success of Kamehameha, and when, in the summer of 1785, the latter retired discomfited from an invasion of Hilo, Keeaumoku smiled as he said to his chief: “Thus far you have only skirmished with your enemies; you will win when you fight battles!”
In 1784 Keaulumoku died. For months the old poet had lived alone in a hut near Kauhola. He avoided company and seldom spoke to any one. Feeling his end approaching, he one day announced that the evening following he would chant his last mele. Hundreds collected around his hut at the time appointed. They did not enter, but sat down, conversing in whispers, and respectfully waited.
An hour passed, and another, but the old singer did not make his appearance. Finally the mat which served as a door was drawn aside, and Keaulumoku’s white head and bent form were seen in the opening. Seating himself within view of all, he began to chant a mele in tremulous tones. As he proceeded his voice became louder, and every word was breathlessly listened to. He spoke of the coming conquest of the group by Kamehameha, whom he designated as the son of Kahekili, and also as “the lone one.” He also predicted the early extinction of the Kamehameha dynasty, the domination of the white race, the destruction of the temples, and finally the gradual death of the Hawaiian people. Concluding his chant, the old seer raised his hands as if to bless his listeners, and fell back dead. A great wail went up from the people, and they tenderly bore the body of the dead poet to the heiau, where it was accorded the burial rites of a prophet.
Much of the last prophecy of Keaulumoku was preserved and repeated, and by conversing with the many who listened to it Keeaumoku managed to secure a satisfactory version of the final song of the dying poet.
From the first of Kamehameha’s battles Keeaumoku had not doubted the triumph of that chief over all adversaries in the end, and eagerly grasped at every circumstance calculated to strengthen the conviction. So believing, his way seemed to be clear.
But what of Kaahumanu, whose promised lover was to be a chief of renown, and whose husband was to be a king? She was an attractive maiden of seventeen, and a few months after the death of Keaulumoku, and while Kamehameha was engaged in peaceful pursuits at Halaula, her father suddenly brought her to court. Fresh, sparkling and graceful, and related to the royal lines of Maui and Hawaii, she attracted the immediate attention of Kamehameha, and he disposed of the claims of her many suitors at once by making her his wife.
There was little in the appearance of the great chief to please the eye of a girl of seventeen. His features were rugged and irregular, and he held in contempt the courtly graces which imparted a charm to the intercourse with each other of the nobility of the time. He was already the husband of two recognized wives; but Kaahumanu was ambitious, and, with admiration but no affection for him, she consented to become his wife.
Keeaumoku was now persistent in inspiring Kamehameha with the thought of becoming the master of the group. He recited to him the prophetic chants of Keaulumoku, and brought to him the favoring auguries of the kaulas.
An unsuccessful attempt to recover the district of Hana in 1786 was followed in 1790 by another invasion of Maui, when Kamehameha completely subjugated the island, and then turned his attention to Keoua, the independent chief of Kau, who had slain the chief of Hilo and assumed the sovereignty of the southern districts of Hawaii.
The war with Keoua continued for more than a year, and every effort of Kamehameha to crush this last of his rivals on Hawaii was successfully resisted. For nine years Keoua had maintained himself against the power of Kamehameha, and still remained master of Kau and the most of Puna. Treachery was finally resorted to, and Keoua fell.
The old temple of Puukohola had been partially rebuilt, and a noted seer had predicted that its completion would give to Kamehameha the undisputed sovereignty of Hawaii. The temple was hastily finished, and Keoua was invited to a conference with his opponent at Kawaihae, with the view, he was led to believe, of peacefully settling their differences. Nearing the shore of the place of meeting, where he saw and exchanged greetings with Kamehameha, he was about to land when Keeaumoku met him in a canoe and treacherously assassinated him, and his body was taken to the newly-completed temple and sacrificed to the war-god of his betrayer.
Keoua was a brave, noble, and magnanimous chief, and the apologists of Kamehameha have not succeeded in relieving him from the odium of Keeaumoku’s cowardly act. He was the half-brother of Kiwalao, and his death left Kamehameha the master of Hawaii.
Truly, as predicted by the seer, had Keeaumoku become the slayer of princes and the maker of kings. But his work was not yet completed. Kamehameha was the sovereign of Hawaii, but the conquest of the group was still before him. Every circumstance, however, conspired in his favor. Kahekili, the warlike king of Maui and conqueror of Oahu, died in 1794, and a rupture had occurred between his successor and Kaeo, the moi of Kauai.
Everything being in readiness, early in 1795 Kamehameha invaded Oahu with a mighty army, defeated and subsequently captured and sacrificed to his war-god King Kalanikupule, and shortly after received the submission of the moi of Kauai—thus becoming the acknowledged master of, and for the first time in their history consolidating under one government, the several islands of the Hawaiian group.
The prophecies of Keaulumoku have all been fulfilled. Keeaumoku, the slayer of princes and maker of kings, died peacefully as governor of the windward islands in 1804. Kaahumanu became the wife of a king, and died as chief counsellor of the islands in 1832. The temples of the Hawaiian gods were destroyed immediately after the death of Kamehameha, in 1819, and but a tenth of the number of natives found on the islands at the close of the last century are now left to sing of the achievements of their ancestors, who first made their home in the group when the Roman Empire was falling to pieces under the assaults of Northern barbarism.