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Updated: September 24, 2025
I must tell you of another native lady, Kapiolani, the wife of Naike, the public orator of the kingdom, by whose courage and faith one of the most terrible of the old superstitions of Hawaii was overthrown. The old religion was coloured by the awful volcanic phenomena of which these islands are the theatre.
Friday morning Joe walked to the farmer's market and bought onions, bok choy, lettuce, and carrots. The prices were good; the locals were cheerful; it was a good deal for everyone. It was late September, and there were fewer tourists around. A lone conga beat tumbled and surged across Kapiolani Park. The smell of grilling teriyaki drifted across the grass. Small cumulus clouds blew out to sea.
The priests threatened her with awful torments of fire from the goddess; her people pleaded with her not to dare the fires of Kilawea. But Kapiolani pressed on, and eighty of her people made up their minds to go with her. She climbed the mountain paths, through lovely valleys hung with trees, up and up to where the hard rocky lava-river cut the feet of those who walked upon it.
They acknowledged the greatness of the God of Kapiolani; and from that time few indeed have been the offerings, and little the reverence paid to the fires of Peli."
Now surely she would leap up in fiery anger, and, with a hail of burning stones, consume Kapiolani. But nothing happened; and Kapiolani, turning, climbed the steep ascent of the crater edge and at last stood again unharmed among her people. She spoke to her people, telling them again that Jehovah made the fires.
The Queen, Kapiolani, is a Hawaiian lady of high character and extreme amiability, and both King and Queen have been exemplary in their domestic relations.
They walked down Kapiolani Boulevard and turned up Keaumoku. "Did you go to school here?" he asked. "Roosevelt. I graduated last year." "You don't sound like you've been here all your life." "Five years," Rhiannon said. "My parents got divorced and I came out here with my mom." "Oh. Where's your father?" "He's in New Haven. He's a chef in a great Italian restaurant.
Kapiolani gathered and eat them without this formula, after which she and her company of eighty persons descended to the black edge of Hale-mau-mau. There, in full view of the fiery pit, she thus addressed her followers: "Jehovah is my God. He kindled these fires. I fear not Pele.
The people began to waver under the threats, but a brown-faced woman, with strong, fearless eyes that looked out with scorn on Pélé priests, was not to be terrified. "It is Kapiolani, the chieftainess," murmured the people to one another. "She is Christian; will she forsake Jehovah and return to Pélé?"
And now Lady Brassey found herself not only the accomplished and benevolent wife of a member of Parliament, but a famous author as well. This year, July, 1881, the King of the Sandwich Islands, who had been greatly pleased with her description of his kingdom, was entertained at Normanhurst Castle, and invested Lady Brassey with the Order of Kapiolani.
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