When we reached the tropic, a brisk trade-wind carried us quickly to the Sandwich Islands, and on the 12th of September we already saw the Mou-na-roa quite clearly, at a distance of a hundred and twenty-four miles, rising high above the horizon. On the following morning, we again dropped anchor before the harbour of Hanaruro, after a sail of thirty-five days from New Archangel.
As I only intended to take in a supply of fresh provisions and water, and then continue my voyage without farther delay, I considered it unnecessary to run into the harbour, and remained in the roads, although the south-wind to which they are exposed is sometimes dangerous to ships riding there. This wind, however, blows only at certain seasons, and is always announced by an over-clouded sky, long enough to afford time for taking shelter or standing out to sea.
On the morning after our arrival, a remarkable phenomenon occurred, of which we were witnesses throughout its duration. While the heavens were quite clear, a thick, black cloud formed itself over the island, resting its lower verge on the summits of the mountains, the densest portion of the cloud hanging over the little town of Hanaruro. The wind was perfectly calm, till on a sudden a violent gust blew from the north-east, and at the same time a crashing noise proceeded from the cloud, as if many ships were firing their guns; the resemblance was so perfect, that we might have supposed we heard alternately the individual shots of the opposing broadsides. The concussion lasted some minutes; and when it ceased, two stones shot from the cloud into the street of Hanaruro, and from the violence of the fall broke into several pieces. The inhabitants collected the still warm fragments, and judging by these, the stones must have weighed full fifteen pounds each. They were grey inside, and were externally surrounded by a black burnt crust. On a chemical analysis, they appeared to resemble the meteoric stones which have fallen in many countries.
In the short period of our absence, some important events had taken place. My readers will remember that the King and Queen of the Sandwich Islands arrived safely in London, and were there treated with particular attention by the English Court; and that they both died in that country, having previously expressed their desire to be buried in their native land. This wish was fulfilled by the English Government. The bodies, having been embalmed, were laid in magnificent coffins decorated with gold, and Lord Byron was appointed to carry them and the royal suite, back to Wahu. When he arrived there, and the news of the deaths of the King and Queen transpired, it produced a great but varying sensation. Some of the people lamented the loss, but the greater number rejoiced to be relieved of a ruler in whom they had no confidence; our friend Karemaku seemed much grieved, possibly from old attachment to the royal family, or from patriotism, as he had hoped that the King's visit to England would have been very advantageous to him, and no one was at the moment qualified to assume the reins of government as his successor.
On the 11th of May, both coffins were carried in solemn procession to the church, the fortress and the English frigate firing their guns. The people cried and howled, as custom requires on these occasions, but all the while greatly admiring the magnificence of the coffins; some remarked that it must be a pleasure to die in England, where people were laid in such beautiful boxes. The following inscriptions in the English language were on the coffin-lids:
"Tameamea II., King of the Sandwich Islands, died in London on the 24th of July 1824, in the 28th year of his age. Respected be the memory of our beloved King Jolani."
(The King was sometimes known by this appellation.)
"Tamehamelu, Queen of the Sandwich Islands, died in London, on the 8th of July 1824, in the 22nd year of her age."
The funeral procession was arranged in the following order: Twelve Yeris, in the national costume, with beautiful coloured feather mantles and helmets, walked first; they were followed by a band of musicians playing the dead-march, and a company of soldiers from the frigate Blond. Then came the chaplain of the frigate, and with him the missionaries, immediately followed by the coffins in hearses, each drawn by forty Yeris. Directly behind the coffins came the heir to the throne, the brother of the King, a boy about thirteen, dressed in European uniform. Lord Byron, his officers, and the royal family, followed, the procession being closed by the people, who, attracted by the novelty of the spectacle, assembled in great multitudes. All wore crape as a sign of mourning, or, if they could not procure this, Tapa. In the church, which was entirely hung with black, the chaplain of the English frigate read the funeral-service, and the procession afterwards repaired, in the order above described, to a small stone chapel, where the coffins were deposited, and where they still remain.