One and all, they filed by, those of her own race, proud and humble alike, kissing the small, jeweled brown hand, while the white Americans merely touched it with their own. And what came most sharply to me, out of the conventionality, out of the scene so wrapped about with state and pomp, was a fleeting, shifting glint of the wild in her full black eyes, shining through the garmenture of her almost incredible culture and refinement—a fitful spark of the passing savage soul of her, one of a people but lately clothed in modern manners.
To the left of the deposed Princess, in a deep armchair, sat an even more interesting, if not so beautiful, personage—no less than Queen Lydia Kamakaeha Liliuokalani, last sovereign of the Kingdom of Hawaii, sister and successor to the much-traveled King Kalakaua. The Queen is rarely on view to foreigners, especially Americans, for she loves us not, albeit her consort, Governor John Owen Dominis, dead these sixteen years, was the son of a Massachusetts captain. I was glad to be well down the line, as I had more time to watch her, for the vigor of her hot fight of but yesterday to preserve the Crown of Hawaii is to me one of the most interesting dramas in history—bleeding tragedy to her.
Photographs and paintings do not flatter Queen Liliuokalani. All I have seen depict a coarseness and heaviness that is entirely absent. I was therefore surprised, brought face to face with Her Majesty, to find that face rather thin, strong, and pervaded with an elusive refinement that might be considered her most striking characteristic, if anything elusive can be striking. But this evasive effect, in a countenance fairly European in feature, was due, I think, to the expression of the narrow black eyes, rather close-set, which gave the impression of being implacably savage in their cold hatred of everything American. However the seeming, I have been assured that by this time the Queen has come amiably to accept the U. S. A. in Hawaii, and to rise above all vengeful feelings. Indeed during this very reception she greeted an erstwhile arch-enemy: “I am glad to see you Mr—!” As near as I can figure it, she was tricked and trapped by brains for which her brain, remarkable though it be, was no match. Imagine her emotions, she who received special favor from Queen Victoria at the Jubilee in London; she who then had the present Kaiser for right-hand courtier at royal banquets, and the royal escort of Duke This and Earl That upon public occasions, now sitting uncrowned, receiving her conquerors.[[3]]
It is easier for the younger ones; but the Queen’s pretense looks very thin, and my sympathy, for one, is warm toward her. There is no gainsaying that truism, “the survival of the fittest,” in the far drift of the human, and the white indubitably has proved the fittest; but our hearts are all for this poor old Queen-woman; although I could not help wondering if she would have liked us any better had she known. Most certainly, when our eyes met in the short contact of glances there was nothing of the tender suavity of the Hawaiian, only abysmal dislike. Taking my cue from those preceding, I offered a dubious paw, which she touched gingerly, as if she would much prefer to slap it. It was a distinct relief to meet the prankish eye of Acting Governor “Jack” Atkinson, my Jack’s old friend (who stood next the Queen’s chair, murmuring in her ear the names of strangers), and surrender my timorous hand to his hearty clasp.
Thence on, down one side of the long lanai, and off to the lawn, we ran the gantlet of a bowing, embarrassed, amused string of Congressmen with their wives and daughters, all smiling uncomfortably in the absence of introductions, since they formed the Reception Committee in this stranger city. We undoubtedly looked quite as foolish, when the tension was immeasurably let down by a jolly young Congressman who blurted out:
“That Jack London! Why didn’t somebody tell us? Great Scott!”
A subdued titter went up, and I said to the grinning Jack:
“That’s how you pay for your ‘Dream Harbor’ seclusion!”
Now we were free to mingle with the charming throng, and it was “Aloha” here and “Aloha” there, that all-loving salutation, employed alike by white and native. We happened upon old acquaintances from the States, and were introduced to many Honolulans. Some of these were Hawaiian or part-Hawaiian, who met us with a half-bashful, affectionate child-sweetness that was altogether irresistible. There is that in their beautiful eyes which is a golden trumpet call for a like honesty and good will.
Every one shakes hands—men, women, children—at every friendly excuse of meeting and parting. Smiles are one with the language, and there is a pretty custom of ending a remark, or even a direction, or command, with a pleasant “eh!”—the e pronounced a, with an upward inflection. Jack is especially taken with this gentle snapper, and goes about practicing on it with great glee.