deepest grief. For the first time a note of complaint of her friend
appears in her memoirs. The French governor laughed at the demands of
Pomare and again offered the throne to Ariitaimai, and argued long to
prove to her that it was her duty to accept it. Where in history is the
woman who would not now have felt that she had exhausted all the demands
of friendship, who would not by this time have been tempted by the
dazzling prospect of a throne, upheld by a powerful governor who had
become her devoted friend and admirer, to be surrounded by chiefs who
had already accepted her leadership, and who, for years, had held her
position among them as chief ess as a sacred trust? But no ambitious
dreams disturbed the clear judgment of this simple-minded woman. She had
set herself a task and her only ambition was to accomplish it. Not for
one moment did the loyal woman waver in her devotion to her friend. She
refused absolutely to entertain a thought of the queenship, and retired
to her country home almost in despair. She says very simply in her
memoirs: "We then remained at home in great trouble and did not know
what was to be done next. The governor on several occasions offered to
make me the sovereign of the island in place of Pomare, which, however,
I could not entertain." It is in this simple and childlike manner she
describes all the events in this perplexing situation. Not by one word
does she anywhere intimate that she is doing anything extraordinary or
praiseworthy or more than her simple duty.
She was not allowed to remain long inactive. Word came to her that the
governor and chiefs were getting very restless and impatient at the
unsettled state of the island politics and had decided not to negotiate
further with the Pomares; and, moreover, that a document to this effect
had been already drawn up and practically agreed upon. This roused her
again to see the governor; and this time Fate put a powerful weapon in
her hands. Just as she was leaving her home an old native preacher came
along and secretly gave her a letter from her beloved Aimata. She wrote
that she was sorry that she had not come back when she promised, that
she was much distressed at the news from Tahiti, that she was an unhappy
woman and, if not too late, she would surely come back if her faithful
friend would come for her. Happy Ariitaimai fairly flew to the governor.
What after all if it should be too late! She had never gone to the
governor with so much fear and trepidation, and her fears were in no way
lessened by his reception of her request that she be allowed to go once
more to Raiatea and make a last effort to bring back the Queen. This
request for the first time irritated the governor toward her. He said:
"Have you not done enough for the Pomares that you should continue to go
down to fetch them?" and he showed her the document which she had heard
of but which was much worse than she supposed, as it proposed to break
up the act of protectorate that had been already made and distinctly
stated that as Ariitalmai had refused to be made queen he would make the
island a French colony at once. But with that precious letter in her
bosom she would not be thwarted in her purpose, and did not leave the
governor until she had received his very grudging permission to see
Pomare and, if she consented to return, to take her to Moorea and let
him know. With this she was obliged to be contented. More she could not
accomplish without divulging the secret of her letter, and this, she
argued, would be disloyal to her friend; for was it not a secret letter
sent to her at great risk? No, she would accomplish her purpose without
humiliating her Queen. Pomare should return at the request of the
governor without losing aught of her queenly dignity.
And now this little drama draws rapidly to a close. Ariitaimai made her
third trip to Raiatea and accompanied Pomare to Moorea, and sent word to
the governor that he would find them there. Obedient to this gently
expressed command of his ambassadress, the governor very courteously
went to Moorea in person to receive the Queen and bring her back to her
home and throne. In the same dispassionate style Ariitaimai tells of the
homeward journey: "As we all went on board a salute was fired. We sailed
around the island, flying the protectorate flag at the fore, to inform
the people of these islands that their Queen had returned. We then
continued our route for Papeete and on arriving there the forts from the
shore saluted the flag." But O! the irony of Fate! As they entered the
harbor what a sight met the eyes of the poor Queen! Both British and
American ships were anchored there, having come at last in answer to her
appeals, but only in time to see her placed on her throne by the grace
of the hated French, But peace had been bought too dearly to be broken
now even by this vacillating queen, and the British and American
officers, seeing the situation, had the good sense to assist in the
general festivities celebrating the long-looked-for peace. The memoirs
conclude with this simple statement: "The Queen remained several hours
on board the steamer as the governor wished the natives to see that the
Queen had really come back. There were soldiers in line on shore to
receive us and we were conducted to the governor's house. The peace of
the island was then decided upon. On arriving at the governor's house we
found all the commanders of the troops and vessels there and before them
I was thanked by Governor Bruat for what I had done for my country."
When a world of men
Could not prevail with all their oratory
Yet hath a woman's kindness overruled.
SHAKESPEARE.
[1] This chapter is the product of the fertile pen of Dr. Lucy Waite.
Surgeon-in-Chief of the Mary Thompson Hospital, Chicago.