“‘Friday, December 16, 1836. Mrs. Chamberlain and I went on board the ship Phoenix to see the berths of the boys. It is one berth nearly 5 feet by 3 upon the transum or what in nautical language is called the after locker, the locker being widened by a board and secured by a side and end piece. It will make them a very comfortable place to sleep.’”
“‘The Phoenix if all ready for sea and would have sailed this afternoon but the pilot did not think the wind quite strong enough. We went down with a view to the embarkation of Mr. Parker & the boys …’”
“‘… but we returned and Cap. Allyn with us: he took tea at our house. In the evening a social prayer meeting was held at the house of Mr. Bingham in reference to the expected departure of Mr. P. and our two sons.’”
“‘Saturday 17. Soon after sun rise the signal gun was fired from the Phoenix. Our little boys were already up and full of excitement in prospect of getting away.’”
“‘We took our breakfast hastily and attended morning prayer. The little boys bid their mother & sisters an affectionate farewell and I led them down to the wharf at the point near which the ship was moored.’”
“‘A boat was pretty soon sent to take us off. The boys stepped in very cheerfully, and when we came along side they climbed cheerfully up the sides of the vessel which is to carry them away from all whom they have felt to be near & dear on earth.’”
“‘They appeared to be well satisfied with their berth and manifested no reluctance to staying on board. As soon as the vessel was ready to start I told them it was best they should take off their common day clothes and put on their night clothes. To this they readily submitted and when they had made the exchg. they laid themselves down in their berth.’”
“‘Their feelings were very tender and they could not look at me without weeping; for tho. Warren Fay had seemed to feel before that a separation was about to take place, yet Evarts had not till now realized it, and both seemed to feel as I leaned over them and gave them a few words of parting counsel that the time was near when they should see me no more.’”
“‘I asked them whether they wished to send any word back to their mother. Their hearts were too full to speak. Warren Fay however said Give my love to all the children.’”
“‘As the time had come for me to leave them I called Mr. Parker from on deck, wishing the little boys to see a friend by their side as I left them, to see them probably no more on earth.’”
“‘I pressed their lips with affection and telling them severally to be good, took my leave and passing brother P. exchanged with him the apostolic salutation of a kiss of charity and hastened on deck …’”
“‘… bidding the Cap. and mate farewell I descended the sides of the vessel into the boat of the pilot and with him came into the harbor, he going on board of a ship wh. he was about to take out & I to the shore.’”
“In the boat all the way back to shore young Father Chamberlain wept at thus leaving his small sons, one seven, the other five years old, to set out almost as orphans on life’s uncertain voyage.”
“This picture of his father’s grief is given by Warren Chamberlain, the older of the two lads, who had it from the mate of the Phoenix, and as an old man in 1910 wrote it down for the Cousins’ Society when the beautiful old Chamberlain house on King Street was about to be restored to continue its service as a rallying place for mission descendants.”
“Other pictures of that eventful voyage Warren gave in 1910 … And not the least interesting is the promise which had moved Captain Allyn to grant a passage to the two lads.”
“The scene was at dinner in the Chamberlain house, then a new house. The captain was a guest in that hospitable home, as was also the Rev. Mr. Parker who had come over the Rocky Mountains to survey Indian mission work for the American Board, and who had already engaged passage on the whale-ship Phoenix for New London.”
“Also there was Father Whitney of Kauai, warm friend to the Chamberlains, who had had to send his own two little sons away and was interested to help these lads who knew him as Uncle. The Captain declined to take them, saying that he had no fitting accommodations.”
“‘It was then suggested that a place be constructed in the cabin, between the two windows in the stern for light, and the ladder that led to the deck.’ To clinch the matter, Uncle Whitney offered to give the captain ‘all the sweet potatoes he wished, also goats and other things, if he would sail around by his place at Waimea, Kauai.’”
“As in many another whaling voyage provisions from this garden of islands proved the deciding factor and the captain consented, although he finally found his ship sufficiently provisioned and did not sail via that island of plenty.”
“All this and much more occurred because there was then no school at Punahou.” (Ethel M. Damon)
Over the course of a little over 40-years (1820-1863 – the “Missionary Period,”) about 184-men and women in twelve Companies served in Hawaiʻi to carry out the mission of the American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions (ABCFM) in the Hawaiian Islands.
The missionaries established schools associated with their missions across the Islands. This marked the beginning of Hawaiʻi’s phenomenal rise to literacy. The chiefs became proponents for education and edicts were enacted by the King and the council of Chiefs to stimulate the people to reading and writing.
“During the period from infancy to the age of ten or twelve years, children in the almost isolated family of a missionary could be well provided for and instructed in the rudiments of education without a regular school … But after that period, difficulties in most cases multiplied.” (Hiram Bingham)
Missionaries were torn between preaching the gospel and teaching their kids. “(M)ission parents were busy translating, preaching and teaching. Usually parents only had a couple of hours each day to spare with their children.” (Schultz)
From 1826, until Punahou School opened in 1842, young missionary parents began to make a decision seemingly at odds with the idealizing of the family so prevalent in the 19th century; they weighed the possibility of sending their children back to New England. The trauma mostly affected families of the first two companies, and involved 19 out of 250 Mission children. (Zwiep)
“(I)t was the general opinion of the missionaries there that their children over eight or ten years of age, notwithstanding the trial that might be involved, ought to be sent or carried to the United States, if there were friends who would assume a proper guardianship over them”. (Bingham)
“Owing to the then lack of advanced schools in Hawaii, the earlier mission children were all ‘sent home’ around Cape Horn, to ‘be educated.’ This was the darkest day in the life history of the mission child.” (Bishop)
“Peculiarly dependent upon the family life, at the age of eight to twelve years, they were suddenly torn from the only intimates they had ever known, and banished, lonely and homesick, to a mythical country on the other side of the world …”
“… where they could receive letters but once or twice a year; where they must remain isolated from friends and relatives for years and from which they might never return.” (Bishop)
In 1829, Sophia Bingham was sent back to the continent. “It was a sad, sad day when our Sophia left us. She stood at the rail clutching her only toy, a wooden doll made for her by her father. Our hearts said farewell beloved child!” (Sybil Bingham; Punahou)
In 1840, as the ship carrying the missionaries’ offspring pulled away from the dock, a distraught seven-year-old, Caroline Armstrong, looking at her father on the shore, the distance between them widening every moment … “Oh, father, dear father, do take me back!” (Judd)
Her plea echoed in the hearts of the community. In June of that year the mission voted to establish a school for the children of the missionaries at Punahou. (Emanuel)
On July 11, 1842, fifteen children met for the first time in Punahou’s original E-shaped building. The first Board of Trustees (1841) included Rev. Daniel Dole, Rev. Richard Armstrong, Levi Chamberlain, Rev. John S Emerson and Gerrit P Judd. (Hawaiian Gazette, June 17, 1916)
By the end of that first year, 34-children from Sandwich Islands and Oregon missions were enrolled, only one over 12-years old.
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