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By Root 4388 0

ourselves by words. Hawaii was stolen. Its liberties were raped." In stately manner this daughter of the alii rose, kicked her train behind her, and left the dining room. Micah, disconsolate, watched her depart, then dropped his head on the table for some minutes, after which he rose and walked to his study, where he composed a long and passionate letter of instructions to his representatives in Washington, telling them: "You must see every senator at least once a day. Tell him that the manifest destiny of America consists of an extension of God's grace to these islands. We cannot delay much longer, for the Japanese and English are beginning to make unpleasant moves and tardiness is suicide. Plead with them. Leave no argument to chance, and if the senators from Louisiana and Colorado fight with dirty weapons, fight back. We have got to make these islands American in this session. To your hands I commit the fate of Hawaii."

During the days that followed, Micah and Malama Hale avoided each other as much as possible. With each elating letter from Washington, for chances in the Senate looked increasingly good, the distance between the American missionary and the Hawaiian alii grew greater, and it was borne home to Micah a thousand times now sorrowful a thing it is to destroy a sovereignty. It was right that Hawaii become American. It was inevitable, and he was increasingly proud of his role in accomplishing this benediction; but it was also tragic, and in these last days the tragedy was greater than the joy.

On July 6, 1898, the American Senate finally accepted Hawaii by a vote of 42 to 21. In the Senate gallery David Hale, Micah's personal emissary to Congress, wept, and his assistant Micah Whipple said, "This is the beginning of America's greatness in world politics." One week later, on July 13, the news reached Honolulu, and an excited sailor discharged a gun. Nerves were on edge and some thought this might be the beginning of a counter-revolution, but soon the electrifying word swept through the city and men ran out into the streets and embraced one another. It was a wild, joyous day, with enough noise to be heard around the globe, but Wild Whip Hoxworth, in the jungles of French Guiana, did not hear the news for almost two months. When he did he said to Ching-ching, "Well, we're Americans at last. You feel any different?"

"You may be an American," Ching-ching replied. "I'm still a Chinese. I don't think your country will ever want me."

On August 12, 1898, by proclamation of President McKinley, Hawaii joined the United States, but in the islands this happy event seemed more like a funeral than a birth. No Hawaiians appeared that day, for they mourned in secret, but a good many Americans in tight coats, brown plug hats and patent-leather shoes roamed the streets wearing gaudy badges that showed Uncle Sam entering into matrimony with a Negro woman--the mainland manufacturers having been unable to visualize a Hawaiian--accompanied by the rubric: "This is our wedding day."

Out of deference to the Hawaiians, the day's ceremonies were kept brief. Soldiers marched and sailors came ashore from an American warship. At eleven forty-five a distinguished group of men responsible for the revolution appeared on the grandstand, led by Micah Hale. As he took his place, he looked out upon the gathering and saw Americans, Chinese, Portuguese and Japanese, but never a Hawaiian. When the once-impressive band began the Hawaiian anthem, the gasps that came from the horns would not have done justice to a group of beginners, for one by one the weeping Hawaiian members of the band had crept away, refusing to play the final dirge of their nation. The anthem ended in a sob and Micah began reading: "With full confidence in the honor, justice and friendship of the American people . . ." He had first dreamed of this day while crossing the Nebraska prairies in 1849. Now, almost half a century later, he had made it come to pass.

On the platform that day there was one Hawaiian, Malama Kanakoa Hale, for Micah had pleaded with her: "It is your duty,"