I was looking at a file folder of pictures of Iolani Palace 10 years ago at the Hawaii State Archives. One photo was of a typical Western house. The caption on the back said it was the original Iolani Palace.
At the time, I had no idea there had been an earlier palace on the site.
The palace we know today was built by our last king, David Kalakaua, in 1883, where the original palace stood. The earlier palace was built by Oahu Gov. Mataio Kekuanaoa for his daughter Victoria Kamamalu in 1844. King Kamehameha III bought it when he moved the capital from Lahaina to Honolulu in 1845.
Still, I never heard much about the old palace until this week when I came across a 1920 article in The Friend, a local newspaper that called itself the “Oldest Paper West of the Rockies.”
In it, Ellen Armstrong Weaver described a visit there with her father when she was a girl, probably in about 1850. Weaver would become, as an adult, the manager of Lunalilo Home. Her father, Richard Armstrong, was the king’s chaplain.
She remembers going with him one Sunday night “to the palace of Kamehameha III to evening prayers with the chiefs and royal family.”
“It all comes back in a vivid mental picture of King Kauikeaouli — Kamehameha III — and his ponderous Queen Kalama; John I‘i and his wife Sarai; the young princes Alexander and Lot, later known as Kamehameha IV and V; and their father, the kind-faced Kekuanaoa.”
Also present was Kanaina, the father of King Lunalilo; Paki and his wife, Konia, the parents of Bernice Pauahi; John Young; and other chiefs of the old regime.
“It was but a short walk to the palace from ‘Stone House,’ the home of Limaikaikas (Armstrongs), at the head of Richards Street, named by British Adm. Thomas for his home in England.
“Down Richards Street we walked, turning at Haalelea Lawn into Palace Walk (now the pedestrian mall that separates the palace from the state Capitol).
“As we approached, the large wooden, iron-bound gates to the palace swung open, and the two sentries on guard presented arms, which seemed very grand.
“On one occasion, the sentry was minus his musket and slapped his side with a bang, which so amused my father that he laughed all the way over the black sanded walk, which crunched under feet, till we reached the broad coral stone steps of the palace, a large square, one-storied bungalow, surrounded by a broad lanai.
“We entered a living room furnished with hikiees (couches) and koa made setees, a few chairs and fine mats for those who preferred the floor, with kahilis (fly brushes) and umekes (koa calabashes) here and there.
“There was also a large, square ipu kuha, or spittoon, an essential article in the Hawaiian household, filled with white sand, which I remember, as I almost fell into one.
“Father was an ex-officio guardian to the young chiefs and chatted with them familiarly. They used to say “we always have a good time when Limaikaika (Armstrong) comes,” thanks to father’s happy endowment of Scotch humor.
“There was scripture reading, and words of comment. Hymns were sung by the sweet-voiced royal household, and prayers offered by those who felt inclined.
“John I‘i’s wife, Sarai, a large sweet-faced Hawaiian woman with wavy hair, sat on the floor during the prayer service, and it was my delight to sit in her lap, which seemed like a great bowl into which I fitted exactly.
“She caressed me at intervals and I felt supremely happy in my warm bowl so near her dark, kind heart.
“There was Old Kuki, a large Tahitian chief, who had married into the household and always said grace at the royal banquets in those primitive days.
“We children noticed that he kept his eyes open and fixed upon the sardines, and after ‘Amen,’ fell to and devoured an entire box of the fish, which he was so extravagantly fond.
“Paki, the king’s chamberlain, was a giant, standing 6 foot 4 inches, very heavy and finely proportioned.
“His voice was wonderfully clear and melodious when he announced the guests at the palace soirees.
“It is pleasant to recall the thrill of having our names called by the big chief and walking before ‘Their Majesties,’ dropping an old-time curtsy, and passing down the line of royalty in court array against a background of majestic kahilis or plumed staffs of state.
“The kahilis looked like great cylinders of many colored feathers, mounted on heavy staffs, ornamented with rings of ivory and tortoise shell, and towered almost to the ceiling.
“They were borne by petty chiefs and favored members of the royal household, who sat like statues, each waving a gorgeous feather shoulder cape.
“The king and queen wore wide bands of moire ribbon across their breasts, to which were attached large stars embossed in gold thread, with a crown wrought in the center.
“One of these stars is now a valued relic in our family. It was given to my father by Kamehameha III to wear on state occasions, and it was the duty of my sister, Jane, to fasten this royal favor to the lapel of his black coat.
“There was always a little strife about adjusting it in its place, because father, with the humility of a true missionary, wished it concealed as much as possible, and his worldly children wished it displayed to the best advantage.
“In the throne room of the old palace, I stood by father’s side, looking at a large portrait of Louis Philippe, King of France, when Kauikeaouli, with a beaming smile, lifted me in his arms and placed me on the throne of Hawaii. He asked me how I would like to be a queen.
“I felt an inexpressible sense of exaltation. The throne was a large, heavy koa wood arm-chair, covered with rich, crimson brocade, and surmounted on the high back by a carved crown, quite plain, but impressive in its massive dignity, as a visit to the Bishop Museum and a view of the old relic will testify.
“When it was draped with a feather cloak or robe of state, it was gorgeous with the golden-yellow plumage of the all but extinct mamo, the o-o, and the scarlet song-bird iiwi, birds that once sent notes of melody and dashes of color through our mountains.
“Hundreds of bird-catchers were retained by the early kings of Hawaii, for their beautiful feathers and weaving them with infinite patience and skill into feather cloaks and capes that are of priceless value today.
“It rests upon the children of Hawaii,” Weaver concluded, “to gather up the fading memories of those early days that they be not wholly lost to history.”
Bob Sigall, author of the “Companies We Keep” books, looks through his collection of old photos to tell stories each Friday of Hawaii people, places and companies. Email him at Sigall@Yahoo.com.
