An Old New Zealander; or, Te Rauparaha, the Napoleon of the South.
by Thomas Lindsay Buick · English · Gutenberg #44726 · 771,706 chars · public domain (US)
The Project Gutenberg eBook of An Old New Zealander; or, Te Rauparaha, the Napoleon of the South.
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online
at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States,
you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located
before using this eBook.
Title: An Old New Zealander; or, Te Rauparaha, the Napoleon of the South.
Author: Thomas Lindsay Buick
Release date: January 22, 2014 [eBook #44726]
Most recently updated: October 24, 2024
Language: English
Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/44726
Credits: Produced by Chris Pinfield, Shaun Pinder, and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
file was produced from images generously made available
by The Internet Archive)
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AN OLD NEW ZEALANDER; OR, TE RAUPARAHA, THE NAPOLEON OF THE SOUTH. ***
Transcriber's Note:
Italics are indicated by _underscores_, "oe" ligatures have been
removed, and small capitals have been converted to full capitals.
Discrepancies between the detail of the list of illustrations, and the
text accompanying the illustrations themselves, have been retained.
The list also omits the table of Te Rauparaha's wives and children,
that has been inserted at the end of the book before the map of his
and Te Puoho's raids. It has been transcribed in this version.
Apparent typographical errors have been corrected. Inconsistencies in
hyphenation have been retained.
AN OLD NEW ZEALANDER
[Illustration: TE RAUPARAHA.
After a drawing in the Hocken Collection, Dunedin.
Frontispiece.]
AN OLD NEW ZEALANDER
OR, TE RAUPARAHA, THE NAPOLEON OF THE SOUTH
BY
T. LINDSAY BUICK
AUTHOR OF "OLD MARLBOROUGH," "OLD MANAWATU"
[Illustration]
WHITCOMBE & TOMBS, LIMITED
LONDON MELBOURNE
CHRISTCHURCH, WELLINGTON AND DUNEDIN, N.Z.
1911
To
S. PERCY SMITH, ESQ., F.R.G.S.
"A WELL-DESERVING PILLAR" IN THE TEMPLE OF POLYNESIAN LEARNING,
I GRATEFULLY DEDICATE THIS BOOK
PREFACE
I have been constrained to write the story of "An Old New Zealander"
largely to gratify the frequently expressed desire for a more
comprehensive sketch of Te Rauparaha's career on the part of many
readers of my former books, in which fitful glimpses of the old chief
were given. These references have apparently awakened some
considerable interest in the life and times of the great Ngatitoan,
and although this period of New Zealand's history is by no means
barren of literature, I am hopeful that there is still room for a
volume in which much heterogeneous matter has been grouped and
consolidated. There may be some amongst the reading public who will
question the need, or the wisdom, of recording the savage and
sanguinary past of the Maori; but history is always history, and if
this contribution serves no other useful purpose, it may at least help
to emphasise the marvellous transformation which has been worked in
the natives of New Zealand since Te Rauparaha's time--a transformation
which can be accounted one of the world's greatest triumphs for
missionary enterprise. It may be, too, that some critics will not
subscribe to my estimate of the chief's character, because it has been
the conventional view that he who refused to part with his own and his
people's heritage was destitute of a redeeming feature. Owing to the
misrepresentation of the early settlers and traders he has been
greatly misunderstood by their successors; and they have further added
to the injustice by sometimes seeking to measure one who was steeped
in heathen darkness by the holy standard which was raised by the
Founder of Christianity. As in the careers of most conquerors, there
is much in the life of Te Rauparaha that will not bear condonation;
but in every British community there is a wholesome admiration for
resourcefulness, indomitable will, and splendid courage; and, if the
succeeding pages serve to balance these high qualities of the chief
against his failings, they may assist in setting up a more equitable
standard whereby future generations will be able to judge him.
In compiling this work I have necessarily had to draw upon many of the
existing publications on New Zealand, and I now desire gratefully to
acknowledge my obligations to their authors. I have also to thank Mr.
S. Percy Smith, F.R.G.S., for the kindly interest he has displayed in
the progress of my work, and in no less degree must I pay my
respectful acknowledgments to Mr. H. M. Stowell and to Mr. J. R.
Russell for their judicious criticisms and suggestions, whereby I have
been assisted in arriving at a correct historical perspective. To Mr.
T. W. Downes, of Whanganui, who has enthusiastically co-operated with
me in procuring some of the illustrations, and to Mr. J. W. Joynt,
M.A., for his careful revision of the proofs, I am equally indebted,
and now beg to tender to these gentlemen my sincere thanks for their
assistance.
Humbly acknowledging the force of Carlyle's dictum that "Histories are
as perfect as the historian is wise and is gifted with an eye and a
soul," I now present the result of my last year's labour to the reader.
THE AUTHOR.
VICTORIA AVENUE, DANNEVIRKE, N.Z.,
_May 23,_ 1911.
CONTENTS
PAGE
CHAPTER I
WHENCE AND WHITHER? 1
CHAPTER II
ARAWA AND TAINUI 16
CHAPTER III
A WARRIOR IN THE MAKING 29
CHAPTER IV
THE LAND OF PROMISE 62
CHAPTER V
THE SOUTHERN RAIDS 121
CHAPTER VI
THE SMOKING FLAX 189
CHAPTER VII
WAKEFIELD AND THE WAIRAU 235
CHAPTER VIII
THE CAPTIVE CHIEF 293
CHAPTER IX
WEIGHED IN THE BALANCE 331
ILLUSTRATIONS
PORTRAIT OF TE RAUPARAHA _Frontispiece_
_After a drawing in the Hocken Collection, Dunedin_
FACING PAGE
DEPARTURE OF "THE FLEET" FOR NEW ZEALAND 16
_From a painting by K. Watkins, Auckland.
By kind permission of the Artist_
POMOHAKA PASSAGE, KAWHIA 32
_From a photo by Jonston_
BURNING OF THE "BOYD" 48
_From a painting by W. Wright, Auckland.
By kind permission of the Artist_
TE ARAWI PA, KAWHIA 64
_The Point from which the Ngati-Toa migration commenced_
THE MEMORIAL TIKI, KAIAPOI 128
_Erected on the site of the pa destroyed by Te Rauparaha_
GILLETT'S WHALING STATION, KAPITI, 1842 144
_By kind permission of Miss Gilfillan.
From a sketch by her Father_
MONUMENT ON MASSACRE HILL, WAIRAU 256
_Erected by public subscription, 1869.
Photo by Macey_
TAUPO PA, PORIRUA 288
_After a drawing by G. F. Angas_
TE RANGIHAEATA 304
_After a drawing by C. D. Barraud, Esq._
MAP DELINEATING JOURNEYS OF TE RAUPARAHA AND
TE PUOHO _At end_
LAMENT ON THE CAPTURE OF TE RAUPARAHA
_Composed by Hinewhe, and supposed to be sung by Te Rangihaeata._
I
Alas! my heart is wild with grief:
There rises still
The frowning hill
Of Kapiti, in vain amid the waters lone!
But he, the chief,
The key of all the land, is gone!
II
Calm in the lofty ship, O ancient comrade, sleep,
And gaze upon the stillness of the deep!
Till now, till now,
A calm was but a signal unto thee
To rise in pride, and to the fray
Despatch some martial band in stern array!
But go thy way,
And with a favouring tide
Upon the billows ride,
Till Albion's cliffs thou climb, so far beyond the sea.
III
Thou stood'st alone, a kingliest forest tree,
Our pride, our boast,
Our shelter and defence to be.
But helplessly--ah, helplessly wast thou
Plucked sword-like from the heart of all thy host,
Thy thronging "Children of the Brave,"
With none to save!
Not amid glaring eyes;
Not amid battle cries,
When the desperate foes
Their dense ranks close:
Not from the lips of the terrible guns
Thy well-known cry resounding o'er the heath:
"Now, now, my sons!
Now fearless with me to the realms of Death!"
Not thus--not thus, amid the whirl of war,
Wert thou caught up and borne away afar!
IV
Who will arise to save?
Who to the rescue comes?
Waikato's lord--Tauranga's chief,
Thy grandsons, rushing from their distant homes,
They shall avenge their sire--they shall assuage our grief.
While you, the "Children of the Brave,"
Still sleep a sleep as of the grave,
Dull as the slumbering fish that basks upon the summer wave.
V
Depart then, hoary chief! Thy fall--
The pledge forsooth of peace to all--
Of Heaven's peace, so grateful to their God above,
And to thy kinsmen twain, by whom
Was brought us from the portals of the "land of gloom,"
This novel law of love--
This law of good:
Say, rather, murderous law of blood,
That charges its own crimes upon its foes--
While I alone am held the source whence these disasters rose!
An Old New Zealander
CHAPTER I
WHENCE AND WHITHER?
Probably no portion of the globe is so pregnant with the romance of
unsolved problem as the Pacific Ocean. For thousands of years before
Vasco de Balboa, the friend of Columbus, stood upon the heights of
Panama and enriched mankind by his glorious geographical discovery,
this great ocean and the islands which its blue waters encircle had
remained a world in themselves, undisturbed by the rise and fall of
continental kingdoms, unknown even to the semi-civilised peoples who
dwelt on the neighbouring continental shores. But although thus shut
out from human ken and wrapt in impenetrable mystery, we are entitled
to presume that during all this period of time Nature, both animate
and inanimate, had been there fulfilling its allotted part in the
Creator's plan, though no pen has fully told, or ever can tell, of the
many stupendous changes which were wrought in those far-away centuries
either by the will of God or by the hand of man. That vast and
far-reaching displacements had been effected before the Spanish
adventurer's discovery of 1513 broke this prehistoric silence, there
is little room to doubt, for the position and configuration of the
island groups are as surely the results of geological revolutions as
their occupation by a strangely simple and unlettered people is
evidence of some great social upheaval in the older societies of the
world. Precisely what those geological changes have been, or what the
cause of that social upheaval, it would be imprudent to affirm, but
there is always room for speculation, even in the realm of science and
history, and there is no unreasonable scepticism in refusing to
subscribe to the belief that the Pacific Ocean always has been,
geographically speaking, what it is to-day, nor rash credulity in
accepting the ruined buildings and monolithic remains which lie
scattered from Easter Island to Ponape, as evidences of a people whose
empire--if such it can be called--had vanished long before the
appearance of the Spaniards in these waters.
But even if the opinion still awaits scientific verification that the
islands and atolls which sustain the present population of the Pacific
are but the surviving heights of a submerged continent, there is less
room to doubt that the dark-skinned inhabitants of those islands can
look back upon a long course of racial vicissitude antecedent to the
arrival of the Spaniards. What the first and subsequent voyagers found
was a people of stalwart frame, strong and lithe of limb, with head
and features, and especially the fairness of the skin, suggestive of
Caucasian origin.[1] Although of bright and buoyant spirits, they were
without letters, and their arts were of the most rudimentary kind. Of
pottery they knew nothing, and of all metals they were equally
ignorant. For their domestic utensils they were dependent upon the
gourd and other vegetable products, and for weapons of war and tools
of husbandry upon the flints and jades of the mountains. Their
textiles, too, were woven without the aid of the spindle, and in much
the same primitive fashion as had been employed by the cave-dwellers
of England thousands of years before. In the production of fire they
were not a whit less primitive than the semi-savage of ancient
Britain. They thus presented the pathetic spectacle of a people
lingering away back in the Palæolithic period of the world's history,
while the world around them had marched on through the long centuries
involved in the Bronze and Iron Ages.
But though devoid of these mechanical arts, the higher development of
which counts for much in national progress, these people were no
sluggards. They were expert canoe-builders, and their skill in naval
architecture was only equalled by the daring with which they traversed
the ocean waste around them. They were bold and adventurous
navigators, who studied the flow of the tides and the sweep of the
ocean currents. They knew enough of astronomy to steer by the stars,
and were able to navigate their rude craft with a wonderful degree of
mathematical certainty. Whether their wanderings were in all cases due
to design or sometimes to accident, cannot now be definitely affirmed;
but there is abundant proof that their voyages had extended from
Hawaii in the north to Antarctica in the south, and there was scarcely
an island that was not known and named in all their complex
archipelagos.
Of literature they, of course, had none, but they revelled in oral
traditions and in a mythology rich in imagination and poetry, which
accounted for all things, even for the beginning of the world and for
the ultimate destiny of the soul. Being deeply religious and as deeply
superstitious, they interpreted natural phenomena in a mystic sense,
and Pope's lines on the poor Indian would have been equally applicable
to the ancient Maori in Polynesia--
"Lo! the poor Indian, whose untutor'd mind
Sees God in clouds, or hears Him in the wind:
His soul proud science never taught to stray
Far as the Solar Walk or Milky Way.
Yet simple Nature to his hope has given
Behind the cloud-capt hill an humbler heaven;
Some safer world in depths of woods embraced,
Some happier island in the watery waste,
Where slaves once more their native land behold,
No fiends torment, no Christians thirst for gold."[2]
The cradle of the Polynesian race was undoubtedly Asia; and to arrive at
a clear understanding as to how it became transported from a continental
home into this island world it will be necessary to carry the mind back
probably more than 200,000 years. At that time the dominating section
of the human family was the Caucasian--fair-skinned, blue-eyed, and
revelling in the glory of long, wavy hair. Their civilisation,
however, like their weapons of chipped stone, was of the most
primitive character; but they had advanced sufficiently in the
ascending scale of human progress to show that they valued life by
paying pious respect to their dead. They preserved the memory of the
departed by erecting over their burial-places huge blocks of stone,
many of which monuments stand to-day to mark the course of their
migrations. And, except possibly a flint axe-head or a rude ornament
found deep in some ancient gravel-bed, these megalithic monuments are
amongst the most convincing evidence we have of the wide diffusion of
the human race in prehistoric times. From the most westerly point in
Ireland, across the European and Asiatic continents, they stretch by
the shores of the Atlantic and the Mediterranean in the former, and
the plains of Siberia in the latter, until they reach the waters of
the Pacific. Even this wide expanse of ocean proved no insuperable
barrier to the onward march of wandering man; for it is by the
presence of his stone-building habit in so many of the Pacific Islands
that we are able to construct a probable hypothesis of the process by
which Polynesia first became inhabited.
In the light of modern knowledge, the theory which finds most ready
acceptance is that in Palæolithic times the Caucasian race, being more
or less a maritime people, had obtained possession of the coastal
districts of Europe. As they multiplied and spread, they followed the
ocean's edge to the northward, and, as the Arctic regions were then
enjoying a temperate climate, there was a plenteous and pleasant home
for them even in the most northerly part of Siberia. But later a
drastic climatic change began to take place. The great ice-sheet,
which is known to have twice covered northern Europe and Asia, began
to creep down upon the land, driving man and beast before it. Impelled
by this relentless force, there began a momentous migration of
Palæolithic man, who swept in hordes southward and eastward in search
of a more hospitable home. In course of time a section of these
fugitives, travelling across the Siberian plains, reached the Pacific
coast, and here their old maritime spirit reasserted itself. With the
pressure of climate behind them, and in their breasts the love of
adventure, the sea soon became as much their domain as the land.
At first their canoes were of the frailest character; but experience
and unlimited opportunity soon taught them the art of constructing
safe sea-going craft, which could carry considerable numbers on a
course of discovery. The tales of new lands found, and their warm and
genial climate, no doubt stimulated the spirit of exploration, so that
gradually, and almost imperceptibly, the tide of migration which was
flowing from the centre of the continent was drawn across the sea to
the region of eternal summer.
From somewhere in the vicinity of the Japanese archipelago, fleets of
canoes set off at various times carrying with them a freight of
humanity destined to found a new people in a new land. But, in order
to account for the transportation of large numbers of women and
children on vessels which, at the best, must have been mainly
constructed of reeds, we must assume smaller intervals of ocean than
exist now. There are evidences of other kinds that startling
geological changes have occurred in this portion of the globe; and
this assumption would help to explain feats of travel otherwise
apparently impracticable to a rude and poorly equipped people.
For how many centuries this stream of venturesome humanity flowed
southward no one can tell; but it is safe to assume that great numbers
must have taken the plunge into the unknown, some resting by the way,
others pushing on to a point beyond the furthest preceding colony,
until the main groups of islands were occupied, and outpost after
outpost was firmly established. With them these people carried their
simple mode of life, their primitive arts and customs, not the least
of which was their stone-building habit, which, as already shown, had
originated in their desire to perpetuate the memory and preserve the
bones of their dead. Hence arose in their new home those strange
structures of uncemented stone which astonished the early discoverers,
and which stand to-day, broken and decrepit relics, like ghostly
wraiths from a long-forgotten past.
But, whatever its duration may have been, two causes operated to bring
this period of migration to a close. The first of these influences was
the dispersion of the Mongolian race from Central Asia; the second,
the subsidence of the land along the Asiatic coast. Either of these
events would have been in itself sufficient to cut off the supply of
emigrants to the islands. The descent of the more warlike Mongols from
their high plateau would effectually close the inland route across the
north of Asia to the gentle Caucasians; while the sinking of the
land-bridge, along which they had been wont to pick their way, would
so increase the hazard of the journey that none would care to risk a
voyage across the greater stretch of sea. Thus the first stratum of
the Polynesian race was laid by an invasion of European people
embarking from Asia; and these light-skinned, fair-haired Vikings,
who were driven out of their ancient home by the descent of the giant
glaciers, plunged into the abyss of uncertainty, little dreaming that
from their stock would arise a people whose life-story would be, as it
still is to some extent, one of the world's unsolved problems.
Amongst the many features which have seemed to intensify the shroud of
mystery enveloping these people is the combination of a dark skin with
tall and stalwart frames and a head-form usually belonging to fair
races. Also the strange stratification of their customs discloses a
social condition so contradictory as to amount almost to a paradox.
Why a dark-skinned race should possess features which find their
counterpart in the whites of to-day, or why the most primitive method
of obtaining fire--by friction--should be found side by side with
highly scientific methods of warfare, especially displayed in the art
of fortification, seemed difficult of explanation, until the idea of a
second invasion, comprised of dark-blooded people, had been conceived
and had taken root.[3]
The theory of a grafting of a dark race on to the Caucasian stem which
had already been planted in Polynesia explains much. It would account
for the olive-coloured skin of the present-day natives, and it would
provide the reasonable supposition that, being later comers, they
would import with them newer ideas and more modern customs, some of
which would be adopted in their entirety, others in a modified form.
With the advantage of many centuries of contact with neighbouring
peoples, they had necessarily learned much of the art of war, which
had been quite unknown to the islanders in their isolation. These dark
invaders were therefore able to come in the spirit of conquerors; and
consequently the masculine arts, such as the making of weapons and the
building of forts and canoes, received an impulse which placed them
considerably in advance of anything of which the original people had
ever dreamed. But the domestic arts would be but little changed, for
the reason that the invasion, being one of warlike intent, would be
comprised largely of males, the women who were taken to wife after
their lords had been vanquished being allowed to retain their old
modes of life. Hence the methods of twisting threads of fibre, of
weaving mats, and of making fire, would remain the same as had been
practised by them from time immemorial, while there would be a
distinct advance in those arts which came more exclusively within the
domain of the males. In two respects, however, these newcomers did not
better the condition or raise the standard of art amongst the people
with whom they were about to mingle their blood. They introduced
neither pottery nor the use of metals. It is therefore clear that the
section of the human family to which they belonged had not advanced
beyond the Stone Age when their invasion took place; and this fact
helps us to some extent in our inferences as to the period when this
second migration commenced and when it terminated.
For the direction whence these dark-skinned invaders came we have to
rely on a careful comparison of the traditions and genealogies of the
present-day people, who have preserved in a remarkable way certain
leading facts, which serve as landmarks by which their journeys can
still be traced. By the aid of these, the thread of their history has
been followed back to a time at least several centuries before the
birth of Christ, when a dark-skinned people dwelt upon the banks of
the river Ganges. Here, by contact with other races, probably the
Egyptian and Semitic, they acquired that smattering of mythology
which, as preserved by the ancient Maori, resembled so closely the
beliefs still prevalent in many parts of the Old World. But although
versed in the mysterious philosophy, if such it can be styled, of
their time, they were entirely ignorant of the principles of the
Buddhist religion; and from this circumstance it is fair to deduce
that they had left India before Gautama, who died in 477 B.C., had
commenced his teaching of "Nirvana and the Law."
But when we come to inquire into the causes which operated to inspire
this migration, we get little information beyond the explanation
commonly given as the root of all Polynesian movements, that "great
wars prevailed." If this be the true reason why a whole nation should
move _en masse_, then it is not unreasonable to suppose that the
future Polynesians were the defeated people, and were forced by
irresistible waves of invasion to abandon their home in India. Slowly
they were pushed southward and eastward by the more warlike tribes who
came down from the north; and as they made their way along the coasts
of the Malayan Peninsula, circumstances, climate, and assimilation
with other peoples continued the process of racial modification which
had commenced before they abandoned the valley of the Ganges. For
three hundred years or more they drifted from point to point. We know
little more, for there occurs a comparative blank in the story of
their journeyings as they moved along the coast of Sumatra and down
the Straits of Malacca.
In the year 65 B.C., however, we again get a glimpse of them
on the island of Java. From this point, although their movements are
often vague and shadowy, they are never entirely lost to sight.
Tradition, at this period, speaks of a renowned personage named Te
Kura-a-moo, who "went to the east, to the rising sun, and remained
there." To precisely what spot in the east he journeyed is uncertain,
but his objective is generally supposed to have been the island of
Java, which was then known as Avaiki-te-Varinga. This is the first
suggestion of migration which we have in Polynesian tradition; and as
it corresponds in date with other large ethnic movements which are
known to have occurred in the Malayan archipelago, it is more than
probable that pressure from other invaders compelled the occupation
of Java, which thus became the parent Hawaiki, towards which the Maori
stands in much the same relationship as does his brother _pakeha_ to
the Garden of Eden.
But the same cause which drove these wandering Asiatics into Java, at
a latter period led to its evacuation. And still the movement was in
an eastward direction, towards the islands of Indonesia, the people as
they moved becoming more and more expert in the art of navigation and
sea-craft. In view of the scattered nature of the archipelago in which
they now found themselves, their voyages became gradually longer,
requiring larger canoes and more daring seamanship. They were
beginning to leave the beaten path which hitherto had been the common
course of the human race--the mountain, the river, and the plain. With
them the sea was gradually becoming the broad highway which had to be
traversed in order to find fresh resting-places, or to maintain
communication with established outposts in more advanced situations.
The spirit of the sea-gipsy, which led them to do and dare, was
rapidly developing within them, and the knowledge thus born of courage
and experience was shortly to prove invaluable to them in carrying to
a successful issue their own great policy of conquest.
Wars and rumours of wars are again heard of, and are given as the
underlying cause of the next movement southward from Indonesia, the
date of which is so uncertain that it cannot safely be defined more
strictly than as between the first and fourth centuries. It is
unfortunate that we are driven to this loose estimate of time for so
important a national event, because it was this final migration which
led to the actual entry into Polynesia of these dark-blooded
wanderers, and if our first hypothesis be correct, to their ultimate
fusion with the fair-skinned, stone-building people who had preceded
them by many centuries.
They had obviously come into contact with strange people and strange
animals, for the existence of the former has been preserved in their
traditions and the memory of the latter in their fantastic carvings.
Not the least interesting of their stories is the finding of a
fair-complexioned people, whom their fancy has elevated into the realm
of fairies, and from whom they claim to have learned the art of
net-making. Whether these mysterious people, who are said to have
laboured only at night and to have vanished when the sun rose, were
the original Caucasians who, we have supposed, set out from the
eastern coast of Asia, and who were about to be absorbed by the more
virile emigrants from India, or whether they were, as some suggest, a
few wandering Greeks or Phoenicians on the coast of Sumatra, we cannot
pretend to decide. But, in all its vagueness and fanciful setting, the
tradition is interesting, as indicating the existence on their route
of a people fairer than themselves, and the fact that they must have
come into close personal contact with them. A careful reflection upon
the probable circumstances attending the story of how Kahu-kura
captured one of the fairy's nets inclines us to the opinion that it is
the first evidence we have of the contact of the Indian branch of the
Polynesian race with their whiter predecessors. These they would meet
in island after island as they moved down the Pacific towards Fiji,
which group they are believed to have occupied about A.D. 450.
Like all other dates connected with Polynesian migrations, this one
can only be approximate, for the people were without any mode of
reckoning time, except by reference to ancestral lines. But there is
traditional authority for supposing that their descent upon Fiji was
made in considerable numbers, and that for a time these islands
constituted one of their principal colonising centres. Whether Tonga
and Samoa were settled from this point seems doubtful; but it is
certain from the marvellous stories which find credence in the
traditions of this period that an era of extensive voyaging had set
in, and that the newcomers began to spread themselves with
considerable rapidity from atoll to island and from island to
archipelago. These excursions into new realms naturally gave promise
of an attractive home amongst the palm-covered islands; and,
simultaneously with their policy of conquest and colonisation, they
began the absorption and assimilation of the resident people. As the
defending warriors were driven out or annihilated, the women of the
vanquished were taken possession of by the victors, and their domestic
arts were taken with them. This blending necessarily, in the course of
many centuries, worked appreciable modifications in the physique and
customs of both races, and gave to the world the Polynesian people as
we know them to-day.
A race of stalwarts, long-headed, straight-haired, and brown-skinned,
warriors from birth, full of courage, and ardent for adventure, they
were not altogether devoid of those higher ideals which make for the
elevation of man. They were deeply imbued with a love of poetry, which
enabled them to appreciate in a rude way the beautiful in life and to
preserve in quaint song and fantastic tradition the story of their
wanderings and the prowess of their heroes. They were even
enterprising enough to attempt the solution of the marvellous natural
phenomena everywhere presented to them, which, to their simple minds,
could have no origin except in the intervention of the gods.
With a continuous stream of fresh immigrants flowing in from the north
to reinforce the southern outposts, the conquest and colonisation of
the islands was now only a matter of time. Before we come to the
period directly connected with our story, some seven hundred years had
elapsed, during which every trace and even the memory of the original
people had been effaced, and but for their stone monuments, which have
withstood alike the shock of invasion and the ravages of time, their
very existence would have remained as one of the problems of a
forgotten past. But long before this period had been reached, some
great ethnic or geographical event had occurred to terminate the
further inflow of these invaders from the north. Either the movements
of the nations upon the Asiatic continent supervened to make
continued migration unnecessary, or geographical changes in the
distribution of land and sea operated to make it more difficult, if
not impossible. Certain it is that the supply of warriors was
effectually cut off, and that at a time before the parent people had
learned the use of metals. From this period, down through the ages
until the day of their discovery by the Spaniards, the gulf which
separated them from the rest of the human family remained unbridged,
and the Polynesians were suffered to evolve their own racial
peculiarities and develop their own national spirit, untrammelled by
exterior influences. Isolated from the rest of the world, they lived
in total ignorance of the progress with which other peoples were
advancing towards a higher type of human development and loftier
ideals of national life. They knew nothing of the growth of science or
of art, and they derived no benefit from the stimulating effect of
competition, or from the bracing conditions of a strenuous life.
Nature was bountiful to them in the ease and abundance with which
their simple wants were supplied, for it required neither labour nor
ingenuity to provide for their daily needs. Hence there was little
incentive to depart from traditional customs, or to seek more advanced
methods than their fathers had learned and applied in that far-off
time when they lived on the banks of the Ganges. Had it been
otherwise, the Polynesians would not have been found still clinging to
their stone clubs and flint axes, while the continental peoples
surrounding them had acquired a written language, the use of metals,
and the arts of husbandry, pottery, and weaving. The complete absence
of these primary evidences of civilisation amongst the islanders gives
us the right to assume that they came into the South Seas before man
had acquired any knowledge of the metallic arts, and that their
migration ceased before pottery and the weaving spindle were known.
Polynesia must, therefore, have been occupied during the Palæolithic
and Neolithic periods of the world's history. From that time down to
the Spanish era all communication with the surrounding nations was
completely cut off, and the Polynesians were allowed to sleep the
sleep of centuries and to work out their own destiny in the midst of
their tragic isolation. As the evolution of the race progressed, there
was gradually developed a rude system of tribal government,
administered by acknowledged chieftains, who claimed and obtained
unquestioned obedience. So, too, victory or defeat became gradually
the chief factor in determining the home of each tribe. These tribal
boundaries were, however, by no means arbitrary lines of exclusion,
and, in fact, there were frequent visits of friendship between the
different sections of the race. These voyages necessarily led to a
wide knowledge of the Southern seas and their archipelagos, and often
contributed surprising results. While the sea-captains navigated their
canoes with wonderful accuracy, unaided as they were by chart or
compass, their vessels were not always under absolute control, and in
stress of sudden storm, or influenced by some unexpected current, they
were frequently carried far out of their intended course.
It is probable that in some such way the first canoes reached New
Zealand, for it is known that individual vessels had visited these
shores long before the historic migration known as "the fleet" left
Rarotonga in or about the year 1350 A.D. The stories brought
back by these pioneering mariners excited the cupidity and fired the
imagination of the islanders, and when a fleet of several great canoes
arrived at Rarotonga, and found that group already fully occupied,
they decided to set out in search of the strange land which had been
dragged from the depths of the sea by the miracle-working Maui, and
discovered by the great sea-captain Kupe.[4] Here they hoped to
capture the giant bird, the flesh of which Ngahue had preserved and
brought back with him, but more than all they were eager to enrich
themselves by the possession of the _toka-matie_, or much prized
greenstone, the beauty of which they had heard so much extolled.
The story of this migration is recorded amongst the classic traditions
of the New Zealanders: how the Arawa canoe came perilously near being
lost in a tempest, and descended into the mysterious depths of the
whirlpool, Te Parata; how the crew of the Taki-tumu suffered the pangs
of starvation; how the Kura-haupo suffered wreck; and how, on landing,
the crew of the Arawa practised the deceit upon the sleeping Tainui of
placing the cable of their canoe under that of the latter, in order
that they might, with some hope of success, set up a claim to first
arrival. One by one the canoes reached these shores, the major part of
them making land in the vicinity of East Cape, thence sailing to the
north or to the south, as the whim of the captain or the divination of
the _tohunga_ decided their course. In this way they spread to
almost every part of the North Island, which they found already
peopled with the remnants of prior migrations, who were living in
peaceable possession. With these the warlike Vikings from the Pacific
fought and contended until they gained undoubted supremacy, thus
giving a starting-point to New Zealand history by establishing
ancestral lines from which all Maoris love to trace their descent.
These tribes soon became the dominant power in the land. The weaker
_tangata whenua_[5] were subdued and absorbed. Their traditions,
arts, and customs disappeared, except in so far as they may have
unconsciously influenced those of their conquerors. The latter grew in
strength and numbers, extending their influence far and wide, as they
marched towards the development of their national existence and their
final consolidation into the Maori race.
Unto these people was born, about the year 1768, a little brown babe
who was destined to become the great Te Rauparaha, chief of the
Ngati-Toa tribe.
[1] "The distinguishing characteristic of the Marquesan Islanders, and
that which at once strikes you, is the European cast of their
features--a peculiarity seldom observable among other uncivilised
peoples. Many of their faces present a profile classically beautiful,
and I saw several who were in every respect models of beauty"
(_Melville_).
[2] "I found that the Natives had not formed the slightest idea of
there being a state of future punishment. They refuse to believe that
the Good Spirit intends to make them miserable after their decease.
They imagine all the actions of this life are punished here, and that
every one when dead, good or bad, bondsman or free, is assembled on an
island situated near the North Cape, where both the necessaries and
comforts of life will be found in the greatest abundance, and all will
enjoy a state of uninterrupted happiness" (_Earle_).
[3] "It is most certain that the whites are the aborigines. Their
colour is, generally speaking, like that of the people of Southern
Europe, and I saw several who had red hair. There were some who were
as white as our sailors, and we often saw on our ships a tall young
man, 5 feet 11 inches in height, who, by his colour and features,
might easily have passed for a European" (_Crozet's Description of
the Maoris at the Bay of Islands_).
[4] The knowledge which the Polynesians possessed of the Southern sea,
and their skill as navigators, was such that when "the fleet" set out
from Rarotonga, they did not go to discover New Zealand, but they went
with the absolute certainty of finding it.
[5] "Man of the land, native, aboriginal." Probably these people were
a mixture of the Melanesian and Polynesian types.
CHAPTER II
ARAWA AND TAINUI
If the genealogies of the Maori race can be relied upon, it may be
accepted as a fact that the immediate ancestors of Te Rauparaha came
to New Zealand in the canoe Tainui, which is said to have been the
first vessel of the fleet after the Arawa, prepared for sea. By an
unfortunate circumstance there sprang up between the crews of these
two canoes a fatal rivalry, which repeated acts of aggression and
retaliation were continually fanning into open ruptures, even after
they had landed and were widely separated on the shores of New
Zealand. This ill-humour, according to the tradition, was first
engendered by Tama-te-kapua, the chief of the Arawa, depriving the
Tainui of her high priest, Ngatoro-i-rangi, by inviting that renowned
_tohunga_ on board his vessel for the purpose of performing some
of the all-important ceremonies which the complex ritual of the Maori
demanded on such occasions, and then slipping his cable and putting to
sea before the priest had time to realise that he had been
deliberately led into a trap. But this act of treachery on the part of
the bold and unscrupulous captain cost him dear, and bitterly must he
have repented before the voyage was over his trifling with the dignity
of so consummate a master of magic as Ngatoro-i-rangi. But that story
belongs to the voyage of the Arawa. Of the voyage of the Tainui, under
Hoturoa, we know little; but presumably she had a comparatively
uneventful passage until she touched land at a point near the
north-east end of the Bay of Plenty, which her people named
Whanga-poraoa, for the reason that there they found a newly stranded
sperm-whale. But scarcely had they disembarked than a dispute arose
between them and the Arawas, who had beached their canoe at a spot
close by, as to the ownership of the carcase. The result of the debate
was an agreement, arrived at on the suggestion of a Tainui chief,[6]
that the crew which had first touched land should be the acknowledged
owners of the fish, and to establish the date of arrival it was
further agreed that they should examine the sacred places which each
had erected on the shore, and on which they returned thanks to the
gods for guiding them safely across the ocean. Here the ingenuity of
the Arawa people enabled them to outwit the Tainuis. While the latter
had built their shrine of green wood, the followers of Tama-te-kapua
had taken the precaution to dry the poles of their altar over the fire
before sinking them into the sand. Precisely the same process had been
applied to their hawsers, so that when the examination was made for
the purpose of determining priority of arrival the Arawa temple
carried with it the appearance of greater age, and the Tainuis,
without detecting the trick, conceded the point and yielded the prize
to their rivals.
[Illustration: DEPARTURE OF "THE FLEET" FOR NEW ZEALAND.
From a painting by K. Watkins, Auckland,
by kind permission of the artist.]
Hoturoa then decided to make further explorations to the north, and
moved off in that direction with his canoe, to be followed a few days
later by the Arawa. The Tainui skirted the coast, noted and named many
of its prominent features as far as the North Cape, and then, as the
land terminated at this point, the canoe was put about and retraced
her course as far south as Takapuna.[7] Here a halt was called, and
exploring parties were sent out to ascertain if all the district
promised was likely to be realised. Upon ascending one of the many
hills[8] which mark the landscape in this particular locality, the
voyagers were surprised to observe flocks of sea-birds, some flying
over from the westward, others wheeling with noisy flight in mid-air.
To the experienced eye of the native, who had been bred on the borders
of the sea, this circumstance bespoke a new expanse of water to the
west. The canoe was once more launched, and on their crossing the
Wai-te-mata[9] harbour a critical examination of the eastern shore
revealed to the astonished visitors the fact that a narrow portage
existed at the head of the Tamaki River, over the ridge of which lay
another arm of the sea, apparently as wide and as deep as that which
they had just entered.
In the meantime they had been joined by the Tokomaru canoe, and the
joint crews decided upon the bold scheme of hauling their vessels over
the narrow portage at Otahuhu.[10] The Tokomaru was the first to be
taken across, and under the guidance of the chiefs she glided with
perfect ease and grace over the carefully laid skids into the deep,
smooth water. But when the drag-ropes were applied to the Tainui, pull
as they would, she remained fast and immovable. Tradition says that
Marama-kiko-hura, one of Hoturoa's wives, being unwilling that the
weary crews should proceed at once upon this new expedition, which the
chiefs were evidently projecting, had by her power as an enchantress
so rooted the canoe to the ground that no human strength could move
it. Against this supernatural agency the stalwart boatmen struggled
unavailingly, for, although there was a straining of brawny arms, a
bending of broad backs, and much vocal emulation, inspired by the
lusty commands of those in authority, the charm of the enchantress
could not be broken. In this distressful emergency the womanly
sympathy of a second wife of the chief was stirred within her, and
she, being even more gifted in the art of magic than her sister,
chanted an incantation so great in virtue that instantly the spell was
loosed and the wicked work of a disappointed woman undone.[11]
The song which was chanted on this memorable occasion has long since
been embalmed amongst the classics of the Maori, and has become the
basis of many another chant which is used while canoes are being drawn
down to the sea.
"Drag Tainui till she reaches the sea:
But who shall drag her hence?
What sound comes from the horizon?
The Earth is lighting up,
The Heavens arise,
In company with the feeble ones
Welcome hither! Come, O joyous Tane!
Thou leader and provider.
Here are the skids laid to the sea,
And drops the moisture now from Marama,
Caused by the gentle breeze
Which blows down from Wai-hi;
But still Tainui stays,
And will not move.
Red, red is the sun,
Hot, hot are its rays,
And still impatient stands the host:
Take ye and hold the rope,
And drag with flashing eyes
And drag in concert all.
Rise now the power
To urge. She moves and starts,
Moves now the prow,
Urge, urge her still."
Under the exhilarating influence of the singer's musical voice,
together with a profound faith in her skill as a mistress of magic,
the weary crews once more bent themselves to their task. Their renewed
efforts were rewarded with success; for with one vigorous pull the
canoe was seen to move, and was soon slipping and sliding on her way
to the bosom of the bay below.[12] Once fairly launched, the Tainui
was soon speeding her way to the open sea; and, having successfully
crossed the Manukau bar, she passed out into the Western Ocean to
battle with adverse winds and tides. Evidently, the physical features
of this coast were not greatly to the liking of the explorers. Unlike
the eastern side of the island, there were fewer shelving beaches and
favourable landing-places; the predominating aspect was high and
abrupt cliffs, fringed with jagged and evil-looking rocks, against
which the surf beat with deafening roar. The sea, too, was much more
turbulent; so that, after travelling only some eighty miles, the canoe
was headed for the sheltered harbour of Kawhia,[13] and there Hoturoa
and the tribes who accompanied him determined to bring their
wanderings to an end.
The canoe which had brought them safely over so many miles of open
ocean was hauled to a secure spot on the beach, there to await the
ravages of decay, the spot where she rested and finally rotted away
under the _manuka_ and _akeake_ trees being still marked by
two stone pillars,[14] which the natives have named Puna and Hani. The
next thing was to erect an altar to the gods for having thus far
prospered their journey. The spot chosen was that afterwards called
Ahurei, in memory of their old home in Tahiti;[15] and, doubtless for
the same sentimental and patriotic reason, the spot on which the wives
of Hoturoa first planted the _kumara_[16] was called Hawaiki. With
these preliminaries settled, the pilgrims from the east were now faced
with the most serious duty of all, to arrive at an equitable division
of the new land which was about to become their permanent home. What
method of adjudication was employed in the apportionment we cannot now
say; but two main divisions mark the final arbitrament. The Waikatos
occupied the country from Manukau in the north to the Marokopa River
in the south, while the tribe afterwards known as Mania-poto occupied
a domain which extended from that point to one about two miles south
of the Mokau River. Within these comprehensive boundaries was embraced
the acknowledged territory of the numerous sub-tribes; but to only two
of these need we refer at this stage, namely, to the Ngati-toa, who
lived on the shores of Kawhia Bay, and to the Ngati-Raukawa, who had
settled further inland, in the country of which Maungatautari is now
the centre.
When the Tainui people landed on the shores of Kawhia and began to
spread their settlements throughout the valleys of the district, they
did not find, as they might have expected, an empty land. At some
time, and by some means, man had already established himself in New
Zealand, and before the organised migration, of which the Tainui was a
part, had set sail from Rarotonga, the country was already extensively
peopled. Whether these _tangata whenua_, as the Maoris called
them, were Polynesians like themselves, and the fruits of some of the
prior migrations which are known to have taken place, or whether they
were a lower order of mankind struggling through the process of
evolution to a higher plane of civilisation, is a point which cannot
well be debated here. But whatever manner of men they were who lived
in the balmy climate of Kawhia, they were already well established
there in their villages and gardens, and for many generations--perhaps
for many centuries--they had been burying their dead in the secret
caves which honeycombed the limestone cliffs that rise in beetling
precipices sheer from the harbour's edge. Although they are generally
credited with being a less combative and virile race than the fierce
and hardy tribes who came with the fleet, they were not disposed to
surrender or divide their estate without a struggle, and Hoturoa found
that, if he was to become master of Kawhia, it could only be as the
outcome of a successful war. But Kawhia was a country worth fighting
for. Early travellers through New Zealand, who saw it before the
devastating hand of man had marred its beauties, speak with eloquent
enthusiasm of its extremely picturesque and romantic landscape.[17] At
full tide the harbour shines in the sunlight like an unbroken sheet of
silver, in which the green and gold reflections of the surrounding
bush are mirrored and magnified. For many miles in length and breadth
the sea runs inland from the bay's bar-bound mouth, stretching its
liquid arms right to the base of the mountains which encircle the
harbour like a massive frame. Rugged and picturesque are these
mountains, with their cloak of deep verdure, through which huge masses
of limestone rock protrude their white faces, suggesting the bastions
of some old Norman tower covered with gigantic ivy. So marked, in
fact, is this resemblance, that the character of the peaks has been
preserved in their name--the Castle Hills.[18] Down the sides of these
slopes run innumerable streams, the largest being the Awaroa River,
which enters the harbour at the north-east end, where the scenery
attains its most impressive grandeur. A little to the north-east of
Kawhia, and over the ranges, lies the broadly-terraced valley of the
Waipa, and between this district and the harbour stands "an ancient
and dilapidated volcano," called Pirongia, upon which the evening sun
directs its blood-red darts, lighting up its many peaks and towers
until they resemble a giant altar raised by some mighty priest. The
climate, too, is mild and soft, like that of Southern Spain, and there
the orange and the lemon might bud and blossom with all the
luxuriance found in the valleys of Granada.
Such was the home in which the people of the Tainui canoe sought to
gain a footing, when they abandoned their vessel; but these exiles
from far Hawaiki were yet to pass through the bitter waters of
tribulation before their arms were blessed with success and their
claims ceased to be contested. In the quaint language of an old
_tohunga_ we are told: "In the days of the ancient times the
descendants of those who came in the Tainui made war on the people who
had occupied the interior of Waikato. These people were called Te
Upoko-tioa, and were the people who had occupied the land long before
the Tainui arrived at Kawhia. These people were attacked by those who
came over in the Tainui. The men they killed, but the women were saved
and taken as wives by the Tainui. Those who attacked these people were
of one family, and were descended from one ancestor, who, after they
had killed the inhabitants of Waikato, turned and made war each on the
other--uncle killed nephew, and nephew killed uncle: elder killed the
younger, and the younger killed the elder."
Of the various battles which the Tainui people fought during the
conquest of their new home we have scarcely any account, beyond vague
and general statements of the most fugitive character. These,
unfortunately, do not afford us any wealth of detail, the possession
of which would enable us to picture in vivid colours the doughty deeds
by which the invaders overcame the strenuous resistance of the
_tangata whenua_, who maintained the struggle with the desperation of
men who were fighting for their very existence. The story of the
conquest of Kawhia may be regarded as lost in the misty distances of
the past, but it is not surprising to discover by shadowy suggestion,
such as quoted above, that, after the original inhabitants had been
effectually subdued, the turbulent nature of the Maori should lead to
devastating and sanguinary internecine wars. One of the traditions of
the Tainui tribes is that they left the South Pacific because of a
great battle called "Ra-to-rua," which originated in a quarrel between
Heta and Ue-nuku; and it would be quite unreasonable to expect that
they should suddenly forsake their warlike passions on reaching New
Zealand, a country in which there was so much to fight for. With the
Maori war had now become more than a passion: it had become part of
his nature; for, through all the long centuries of migration, the
story of the race had been one of incessant struggle with other races
and with circumstances. They fought their way into the Pacific, and
were in turn submerged under the tide of a second invasion, which gave
to the world a people inured to the hardships inseparable from strife,
who had tasted the bitterness of defeat as well as the joys of
victory--a proud and haughty race, sensitive to the slightest insult,
and so jealous of their honour that they were ever ready to vindicate
their fair name before the only tribunal to which they could
appeal--that of war. Steeped as they had been from birth in this
atmosphere of strife, they had grown to expect the clash of arms at
every turn, and, as they grew to expect it, they grew to love it. It
is small wonder, then, that, when they found their enemies at Kawhia
and its neighbourhood vanquished, they occasionally turned their hands
upon each other, in the attempt to efface some real or imagined wrong.
But, fatal to national progress as these inter-tribal wars must have
been, they, nevertheless, played an important and valuable part in
spreading the Maori over New Zealand. A tribe defeated in battle was
forced to fly before the pursuing enemy, with no alternative but
either to appropriate some district still unoccupied or to displace
some weaker people, upon whom the burden was cast of again
establishing themselves where and as best they could. Thus the tide of
fortune and misfortune rolled and recoiled from Te Reinga to Te
Ra-whiti, until an asylum was sought by the last of the refugees even
across the waters of Cook Strait. Although we have no accurate
information on the point, it is probable that these blood-feuds
contributed in no small measure to the ultimate distribution of the
Tainui people; for their subsequent history is eloquent of the fact
that, while they claimed common descent from the ancestral line of
Hoturoa, this family bond did not prevent hatred and hostility
springing up, and at times bathing their country in blood.
The first migration, however, of which we have any record did not
apparently ensue upon the result of a battle, although a quarrel was
its underlying cause. Hotu-nui, who was one of the principal chiefs of
the canoe, is said to have taken as his wife a daughter of one of the
_tangata whenua_, and was apparently living in the same village and on
terms of perfect friendship with her people. Having been wrongfully
accused of an act of petty thieving, he determined to rid the _pa_ of
his presence; and so, with one hundred of his immediate followers, he,
it is said, moved off towards the Hauraki Gulf. As the years rolled
on, and the systematic exploration of the country began to be
undertaken, many similar expeditions, no doubt, went out from the
parent home at Kawhia, one at least of which was fraught with fateful
consequences. A chief named Raumati,[19] whose story has been embalmed
in tradition, had taken a band of followers with him and travelled
across the island, past Rotorua, until he finally came to the shores
of the Bay of Plenty, where his mother's people lived. Here he was in
the Arawa country, and it was not long before he heard that their
canoe was lying at Maketu, some distance further to the southward. It
will be remembered that there had never been good feeling between the
Tainui and Arawa peoples, and Raumati determined upon an act which
would demonstrate beyond all doubt that he, at least, was not disposed
to hold out the olive-branch to Arawa. His scheme was to effect the
destruction of the great canoe which had brought the hated rivals of
his tribe to New Zealand. Once decided upon, his plan was put into
execution with a promptness worthy of a better cause. Travelling along
the coast from Tauranga to Maketu, he and his followers arrived at the
latter place when all its inhabitants were absent in quest of food.
But his trouble was that the Arawa had been berthed on the opposite
side of the Kaituna River, where she had been housed under a covering
of reeds and grass to protect her from the ravages of the weather.
Nothing daunted, however, Raumati soon proved that his ingenuity was
equal to the desperate circumstances in which he found himself placed.
Taking a dart, and attaching to the point of it a live ember, he
hurled the smoking stick across the water with unerring aim, and, to
his intense satisfaction, he saw the firebrand fall in the midst of
the combustible material which formed the covering of the canoe. The
fire was soon in full blast: the glare of the flames lit up the
surrounding country and was reflected in the red glow of the evening
sky. The first impression of the people out in the forest was that the
Maketu _pa_ had been destroyed; but in the morning they were
undeceived, for then they saw that it was their beloved canoe which
had been burned, and all that remained of her was a heap of glowing
ashes.[20]
The unanimous conclusion was that this had been the work of an enemy,
and messengers were sent far and wide to acquaint the tribesmen of the
fate of the canoe and call them to council upon the subject. At the
meetings the debates were long and serious, for the tribe was torn
between its desire to live in peace with all men and its natural
impulse to revenge the burning of the Arawa, which "they loved and
venerated almost as a parent." They remembered the injunction which
had been given to them by Hou when on the point of leaving Hawaiki: "O
my children, O Mako, O Tia, O Hei, hearken to these my words: There
was but one great chief in Hawaiki, and that was Whakatauihu. Now do
you, my children, depart in peace, and, when you reach the place you
are going to, do not follow after the deeds of Tu, the God of War: if
you do, you will perish, as if swept off by the winds; but rather
follow quiet and useful occupations, then you will die tranquilly a
natural death. Depart, and dwell in peace with all; leave war and
strife behind you here. Depart and dwell in peace. It is war and its
evils which are driving you hence: dwell in peace where you are going;
conduct yourselves like men; let there be no quarrelling amongst you,
but build up a great people."
These were, no doubt, excellent words of advice, and they expressed a
very noble sentiment; but the practical question which they had to
determine was whether they could afford to adopt an attitude of
passivity while these acts of aggression went on around them: whether
they should declare war on account of the destruction of their canoe,
or permit the act to pass without notice. This was the problem over
which they pondered; and, as they discussed and debated it, "impatient
feelings kept ever rising up in their hearts." But at last an end was
made of deliberation, the decision of the tribe being in favour of
battle as the one and only sufficient means by which they could be
compensated for the burning of their canoe. In the words of the old
tradition, "then commenced the great war which was waged between those
who arrived in the Arawa and those who came in the Tainui."[21]
[6] On this occasion Hotu-nui is credited with having addressed his
people in the following terms: "Friends, hearken! Ours was the
first canoe to land in New Zealand before any of you had arrived
here. But let this be the proof as to which of our canoes landed
first. Let us look at the ropes which the various canoes tied to the
whale now before us, and also let us look at the branches of the
trees which each have put up in building an altar, then the owners
of the rope which is the driest and most withered, and of the altar
the leaves of which are the most faded, were the first to land on the
coast of the country where we now reside."
[7] After the canoe left Whanga-poraoa the first stopping-place was
at Whare-nga, where the crew amused themselves with various
games on the beach. To mark the spot, one legend has it, they
placed one large stone on top of another, while a second story has
it that this monument, which is still existent and is called _Pohatu
Whakairi_, represents one of the crew who was turned into stone.
The next point of interest was Moe-hau, now known as Cape
Colville. They then landed at Te Ana-Puta, where, it is said, the
canoe was moored to a natural arch of rock jutting into the sea.
For some reason the anchor was left at a spot between Wai-hou
and Piako, and under the name of _Te pungapunga_ (the pumice
stone) is still to be seen on the coast by those who are curious
enough to look for it. The course was then deflected slightly to
the west, and the canoe crossed to Whaka-ti-wai and coasted along
the mainland past Whare-Kawa, where, it is said, Marama, one
of the wives of Hoturoa, desired to be put ashore with one of her
male slaves. Here they were left, and, according to one version of
the tradition, it was her misconduct with this slave which prevented
the crew dragging the Tainui over the portage at Otahuhu. The
canoe then went on, some accounts say, as far as the North Cape,
and others seem to imply that she was shortly afterwards put about
and, returning into the Hauraki Gulf, sailed past the islands of
Waiheke and Motu-Korea, until land was once more made at Takapuna.
[8] Now called Mount Victoria or "Flagstaff Hill."
[9] Waitemata may be interpreted as "the waters of volcanic obsidian,"
no doubt a reference to the eruptive disposition of Mount Rangitoto.
[10] Otahuhu signifies "ridge-pole." This portage is only 3,900 feet
long and 66 feet high.
[11] There are different versions of this tradition, some attributing
the transfixing of the canoe to Marama, others crediting her with
releasing it. The version given in the late Sir George Grey's
_Polynesian Mythology_ has been here adopted.
[12] Some authorities are of opinion that the Tainui was not taken
across the portage at Otahuhu (ridge-pole), and they base this
contention upon the fact that no traditional marks have been left
inside the Manukau harbour. All the points of interest which have been
handed down, and are remembered, are on the sea coast; and from this
circumstance it is argued that the canoe was never in Manukau harbour
at all. Others say that some of the skids of Tainui were left at South
Manukau Heads.
[13] As they were passing the mouth of the Waikato, the priest of the
canoe, noticing that the river was in flood, named it by calling out
"_Waikato, Waikato, kau_." Further on, noticing that there were
no landing-places, he threw his paddle at the face of the cliff and
exclaimed, "_Ko te akau kau_" (all sea coast). The paddle is said
to be still embedded in the face of the rock, and is one of the
traditional marks by which the course of the Tainui can be traced. At
the entrance of Kawhia Harbour they ran into a shoal of fish, and the
priest gave this haven its present name by exclaiming "_Kawhia
kau_." Another account is that the name comes from Ka-awhi, to
recite the usual _karakia_ on landing on a new shore, to placate
the local gods.
[14] The distance between these stones is 86 feet, indicating the
probable length of the Tainui canoe.
[15] Now called Te Fana-i-Ahurei (or, in Maori, Te Whanga-i-Ahurei,
the district of Ahurei).
[16] The Tainui brought the species of kumaras known as
_Anu-rangi_ (cold of heaven) and the _hue_ or calabash.
Those planted by Marama did not come up true to type, but those
planted by Whakaoti-rangi, another of the chief's wives, did.
[17] "I reckon this country among the most charming and fertile
districts I have seen in New Zealand" (_Hochstetter_).
[18] The natives call them Whenuapo.
[19] His full name was Raumati-nui-o-taua. His father was Tama-ahua,
who is reputed to have returned to Hawaiki from New Zealand, and his
mother was Tauranga, a Bay of Plenty woman.
[20] The date of this incident has been approximately fixed at
A.D. 1390, or forty years after the arrival of "the fleet."
[21] "It is to be presumed that Raumati's relatives and friends at
Tauranga made his cause their own, for they met the Arawa people
somewhere near Maketu, where a great battle was fought. Raumati's
party, though successful at first, were defeated, and their leader
killed by the power of _makutu_, or witch-craft, for Hatu-patu,
the Arawa chief, caused a cliff to fall on him as he retreated from
the battle, and thus killed him" (_Polynesian Journal_).
CHAPTER III
A WARRIOR IN THE MAKING
In one of the many sanguinary battles of those intertribal wars which
raged in Old New Zealand from this period down to the introduction of
Christianity, Werawera, the father of Te Rauparaha, was captured,
killed, and eaten. The subject of our sketch was at that time a mere
child, and the grim old warrior who had made a meal of Werawera was
heard to remark that, if ever the youngster fell into his hands, he
would certainly meet a similar fate, as he would make a delicious
relish for so great a warrior's _rau-paraha_. The _rau-paraha_ here
referred to was a juicy plant of the convolvulus family, which grew
luxuriantly upon the sand-dunes of the seashore, and was largely used
by the Maori of those days as an article of food. Such a tragic
association of the child with the plant was never forgotten by his
tribe, and it was from this circumstance that he derived that name
which has stood paramount amongst Maori _toas_[22] of all time--Te
Rauparaha--the convolvulus leaf. The branch of the Tainui people to
which Te Rauparaha belonged was the Ngati-Toa tribe, who have already
been described as occupying the country immediately surrounding the
shores of Kawhia harbour. Like all the other Tainui tribes, these
people claimed direct descent from Hoturoa, the admiral of the canoe;
but the ancestor from whom they derived their name was Toa-rangatira,
and from him Te Rauparaha was descended in a direct line on his
father's side. Werawera, however, had married a Ngati-Raukawa lady,
named Pare-kowhatu, and this fact, placing a bar sinister across Te
Rauparaha's escutcheon, destroyed in a measure the purity of his
pedigree from the Ngati-Toa point of view, although, as compensation,
it gave him an influence with the Ngati-Raukawa tribe, which in after
years carried with it fateful results.
The Ngati-Raukawa people were closely allied to Ngati-Toa by ties of
blood and friendship; for Raukawa, the ancestor who gave them name and
individuality as a tribe, was related to Toa-rangatira, both chiefs
being descendants of Raka, and through him of Hoturoa. This common
ancestry gave these two tribes a common interest and sympathy, which
were steadily increased by frequent inter-marriages; and to these
bonds they appear to have been faithful through all the varying
fortunes of their history. Conflicts between the Ngati-Toa and
Ngati-Raukawa tribes were less frequent than was the case with the
majority of the tribal families; and when the time came to mould their
affinities into a closer union, Te Rauparaha used this long-standing
friendship as the central argument, by which he eloquently sought to
convince Ngati-Raukawa that there was but one destiny for them and for
Ngati-Toa.
Te Rauparaha had two brothers and two sisters, all older than himself;
but none of them ever achieved a great position or reputation in the
tribe, except perhaps Waitohi[23], who might claim the reflected glory
of being the mother of that fiery and volcanic soul, Te Rangihaeata.
This chief, whose life enters largely into early New Zealand history,
rose to be the fighting lieutenant and trusted adviser of his more
famous uncle, and, in these questionable capacities, he was probably
the most turbulent spirit who crossed the path of Wellington's pioneer
colonists. Towards them he ever manifested an uncompromising hatred,
the one redeeming feature of his hostility being the absolute
frankness with which he proclaimed it.
Unfortunately but little is known of Te Rauparaha's boyhood.
Presumably he was brought up by his mother, after his father's death,
between the settlements at Maungatautari[24], where he was born about
the year 1768, and Kawhia, where his father's relatives lived. As he
grew in years, the greater part of his time was spent at Kawhia with
the Ngati-Toa tribe, by whom he was regarded as a hereditary chief and
as one of their future leaders. His influence with Ngati-Raukawa did
not commence until he had attained to early manhood; and the visits
which he paid to his kindred at Maungatautari during this period had
no military importance, and could only be regarded as interchanges of
friendship. His sojourns at Maungatautari were always welcome, for as
a boy he is said to have had a particularly sunny disposition, and to
have entered eagerly into all the amusements dear to the heart of
Maori children of that day. These enterprises frequently led him into
mischief, and into those moral pitfalls which beset the path of
high-spirited lads. But, for all his boisterous spirits, the boy never
failed to pay respect to his elders, and one of the marked
characteristics of his nature at this time was his willing obedience
to those who were entitled to give him commands. He was even known to
have performed services at the request of a slave, whom he might very
well have ordered to do his own work, since his birth and breeding
placed him far above the behests of a menial.
As Te Rauparaha grew to youth and early manhood he began to display
qualities of mind which soon attracted the attention of the leading
Ngati-Toa chiefs; but, strange to say, his mother was the last to
discern these exceptional talents in her son, and always maintained
that Nohorua, his elder brother, was the clever boy of the family.
These maternal expectations, however, were not destined to be
realised.
Before the introduction of Christianity amongst the Maori, it was the
custom to assign to a young chief some girl from his own or a
neighbouring friendly tribe as his wife. Neither of the parties most
directly interested in the alliance was consulted, and their feelings
or wishes were not considered to have any important bearing upon the
question. Such a system frequently led to unhappiness and
heart-burning, but in the case of Te Rauparaha, the choice made for
him proved to be a happy one, and Marore[25], a girl of tender grace,
made him an admirable wife. Of her he became extremely fond, and out
of this affection arose the first military enterprise which gave him
fame and reputation as a leader of men.
[Illustration: _Photo by Jackson._
POMOHAKI PASSAGE, KAWHIA.]
As not infrequently happened in Maori life, his own people had
prepared a great feast for some visiting tribesmen; but when the food
which had been collected for their entertainment was distributed to
the various families, Te Rauparaha observed with considerable
displeasure that the portion given to Marore was of the very plainest,
and contained no dainty morsel which she was likely to enjoy. The want
of consideration thus shown towards his child-wife preyed upon the
young chief's mind, and he speedily determined that, come what might,
he would find with his own hand the relish which his friends had
failed to provide. Accordingly he petitioned those in authority at
Kawhia to permit him to organise a war party for the purpose of
invading the Waikato country, where he hoped to take captive in
battle some warrior who would make a banquet for his bride. At first
his proposals were received with opposition, for the reason that he
was himself at this time in delicate health, and it was deemed prudent
that he should await recovery before embarking upon so desperate a
venture. Moreover, the tribe being then at peace with Waikato, the
chiefs were naturally reluctant to sanction any act which would
inevitably embroil them in a quarrel with their neighbours. But the
fiery enthusiasm which Te Rauparaha displayed for his own scheme, and
the persistency with which he urged its claims, overcame the
resistance of the tribal fathers, who thus acknowledged, for the first
time, the strength of the personality with whom they had to deal.
Armed with this authority, he at once set about marshalling his
forces, and his call to arms was eagerly responded to by a band of
young bloods equally keen for adventure with himself. The
_taua_[26] made its way safely to the nearest Waikato _pa_,
where the profound peace prevailing at the time had thrown the
defenders off their guard. In the belief that the visitors were on a
friendly journey, they invited their advance guard within the walls of
the village. Soon, however, the error was discovered; and the
inhabitants, realising the position, flew to arms with an alacrity
which sent the invaders flying through the gate of the _pa_. The
impetuous energy of the Waikatos, led by Te Haunga, induced them to
push the pursuit a considerable distance beyond the walls of their
stronghold; and it was the strategic use which Te Rauparaha made of
this fact that gave him the victory and established his claim to
leadership in future wars. Owing to the difficulty which he
experienced in walking, he had not been able to march with the
leaders, but was following with a second division of his men, when he
saw, to his dismay, his warriors being chased out of the _pa_.
His own force was as yet concealed behind an intervening hill, and,
quickly taking in the situation, he ordered his men to lie down
amongst the _manuka_ scrub, which grew to the height of several feet
beside the narrow track which they had been traversing. He saw that
the fugitives would follow this line, in order to rejoin him as
speedily as possible, and in this anticipation his judgment proved
correct. At full run they swept past, closely followed by the angry
Waikatos, who, having escaped from one trap, little dreamed how simply
they were falling into another. Close in his concealment, Te Rauparaha
lay until the last of the pursuing body had rushed by; then, bursting
from his hiding-place, he attacked them in flank and rear with such
vehemence that they were at once thrown into disorder. The tumult of
his assault checked the flight of the Ngati-Toas, and the Waikatos,
now wedged in between two superior forces, sustained heavy losses. Te
Rauparaha is credited with having slain four of his opponents with his
own hand, and the total killed is said to have numbered one hundred
and forty. Amongst these was Te Haunga, the principal chief of the
_pa_, who formed a specially valuable trophy in view of the purpose
for which the raid had been organised. His body was carried home to
Kawhia to provide the relish which Te Rauparaha so much desired for
Marore.
Although this attack upon Waikato was only one of the many sporadic
raids so common amongst the Maori tribes, and could not be regarded as
a military movement of national importance, Te Rauparaha had conducted
it with so much skill and enterprise that his achievement became the
chief topic of discussion throughout the neighbouring _pas_, and,
in the words of an old narrator, "he was heard of as a warrior by all
the tribes." The fame which he had thus suddenly achieved, and the
desire to live up to his reputation, inspired him with a new sense of
responsibility, and he became a keen student of all that pertained to
the art of war as practised in his day. He was shrewd enough to see
the advantages attending military skill amongst a people with whom
might was right, and, even at that age, he was ambitious enough to
dream dreams which power alone would enable him to realise. He aimed
at making the acquaintance of all the great chiefs of the surrounding
tribes; and, when it was safe to visit them, he travelled long
distances to sit at the feet of these old Maori warriors, and learn
from them the subtle methods by which fields were won. These journeys
gave him a familiarity with the country and the people which was very
useful in the disturbed and precarious relations between Ngati-Toa and
the neighbouring tribes. In these warlike excursions, which were as
often of an aggressive as of a defensive nature, Ngati-Toa was not
invariably successful. But, even in their defeats, the reputation of
Rauparaha increased with his years, for he was ever turning to account
some new device of tactics or giving some fresh proof of his personal
courage.
Nor did he neglect to cultivate the good opinion of his tribe by
generosity in the discharge of his social duties. His bounty was never
closed against the stranger; and when he invited his friends to a
feast, his entertainment was always of the most lavish kind. Even to
his workmen he was strikingly considerate. He abolished the practice
indulged in by the field labourers of giving a portion of the food
provided for them to strangers who happened to arrive at the
settlement, by insisting that the kumara-planters should retain their
full ration and the strangers be fed with food specially prepared for
them. This unconventional liberality speedily created the desired
impression,[27] and became the subject of general remark amongst those
who were on visiting terms with the Kawhia chief. It even became
proverbial, for it was sometimes said of a benevolent Maori, "You are
like Te Rauparaha, who first feeds his workmen and then provides for
his visitors."
Reference has already been made to the fact that Te Rauparaha had been
in the habit of making frequent visits to parts of the country distant
from Kawhia, for the dual purpose of completing his education in the
art of warfare and of strengthening his personal relations with
influential chiefs, who might be useful to him in future diplomacy.
During one of these excursions he had proceeded as far as what is now
known as the Valley of the Thames, in the Hauraki Gulf, to pay his
respects to the chiefs of the Ngati-Maru[28] tribe, who were then both
numerous and influential in that part of the island. How much he was
esteemed by the leaders of this people may be judged by the fact that,
when he was about to return, they, amongst other gifts, presented him
with a firearm and a few cartridges, his first acquisition of the
kind. To us the gift of an old flintlock might seem a trivial
circumstance; but to a Maori, who was lingering on the fringe of the
Stone Age, such a weapon was a priceless treasure. So dearly were they
prized by the natives at this time that only the consideration of
warmest friendship could have induced the Ngati-Maru to part with even
one. There was in these rusty and erratic "fire-spears" that which
would before long revolutionise the whole system of native warfare;
and the shrewdest of the natives saw that the tribe which acquired the
largest number of guns in the least time would have an enormous
advantage in the field of battle.
For some years a few vagrant and adventurous voyagers, together with
the more honest whalers, had been making the Bay of Islands one of
their principal rendezvous; and in the desultory trade which had been
carried on between the crews and the natives, guns had first fallen
into the possession of the Nga-Puhi tribe. The deadly use which these
warriors had made of this new instrument of destruction, in their
skirmishes with their neighbours, had so impressed the native mind
that forces hitherto well-disciplined were seized with panic when
marched against guns, until it was felt by the inland tribes that such
weapons were absolutely indispensable to safety or victory.[29] Many
of the natives, whose curiosity had been aroused by the novel sights
which they had seen on the visiting whalers, had shipped as seamen
before the mast in the hope of seeing more of the great world from
which the _pakeha_ came. In this way they had been carried to Port
Jackson, where they had witnessed on a more extensive scale the
destructive power of the European weapons. Owing to the misjudged
generosity of the Sydney public, some had been able to bring a few
muskets back with them, while others had secured hatchets and
bayonets, which, fastened on the end of long handles, were soon
recognised as weapons vastly superior to the spears and _taiahas_ of
their fathers. These discoveries accentuated the desire to replace
their obsolete arms with others of a more modern type; and as a result
of the excessive demand thus created, the commercial value of a musket
rose in the market, until the traders asked, and the Maoris willingly
gave, as much as a cargo of flax for a single weapon. The effect of
this musket-hunger was to change completely the existing relations
between the _pakeha_ and Maori, going far to remove the estrangement
and distrust which had been generated between the two races. Up to
this time but little respect had been shown to the dark-skinned
natives of these far-away islands by the rude sailors who had visited
them; and in their contempt for the "niggers" they had been guilty of
many outrages which would have staggered humanity, had humanity been
able to grasp the full measure of their ferocity.[30] Retaliation,
culminating in the murder of Marion du Fresne and the burning of the
_Boyd_, followed upon outrage, and hatred, fed by misunderstanding,
was daily driving the two peoples further and further asunder.[31] But
the need and the hope of acquiring muskets suddenly changed all this,
for the natives now saw that it was necessary to their very existence
that they should cultivate the European, in order that they might
trade their flax and pigs for guns; while the white man, seeing that
he could procure these valuable products at so insignificant a cost,
was nothing loath to forget the many injuries which had been inflicted
upon his own race.
Thus the spirit of crime and revenge, which for years had darkened the
page of New Zealand's history, suddenly disappeared in the eagerness
for trade, and in its stead came the spirit of industry, which sent
countless natives toiling in the swamps and on the hill-sides,
preparing in feverish haste the fibre wherewith they might purchase
this new weapon of destruction. This mad rush for muskets did not
escape the keen observation of Te Rauparaha, who saw with unerring
precision what its ultimate effect must be. Had he been a resident of
the east coast there is little doubt that he too would have plunged
with enthusiasm into the fatal scramble, trusting to his natural
shrewdness and business acumen to secure for him a fair share of the
market's prizes. But he was at the outset placed at this disadvantage.
His country was on the west coast of the island, where the whalers and
traders seldom came; and the Ngati-Toa, unlike the Nga-Puhi, had few
or no opportunities of holding intercourse with the _pakeha_, from
whom alone the coveted muskets could be procured. It was therefore
with a heavy heart and sorely perplexed mind that Te Rauparaha
returned to Kawhia, for he knew with absolute certainty that so soon
as the Waikatos succeeded in arming themselves with firelocks it was
only a question of time when they would decide to attack him and his
people, in satisfaction for many an old grudge. Then the day would go
hard with Ngati-Toa, who could only encounter this new invasion with
stone clubs and wooden spears.
As the result of many years of intertribal wars the country
surrounding Aotea harbour, to the north of Kawhia, had become almost
denuded of population. A few inconsiderable _pas_ still remained,
but their defenders were so inefficient as to constitute a living
invitation to some stronger people to come down and exterminate them.
Thus it was not surprising that a section of the Ngati-Mahanga tribe,
whose home was at Raglan, should, after a successful raid in this
quarter, decide to permanently occupy so inviting a district. They
immediately attacked and drove out the feeble occupants, and then sat
down to enjoy the fruits of their conquest. This act of aggression was
hotly resented by Te Rauparaha, who could not suffer his allies to be
buffeted in so unceremonious a manner, and within an incredibly short
period of time he had his fleet of canoes on the water carrying a
_taua_ to Whanga-roa, where he met and decisively defeated
Ngati-Mahanga. The report of this Ngati-Toa victory soon spread
throughout the enemies' domain, and in due course reached the ears of
those branches of the tribe living at the mouth of the Waikato River,
who at once resolved to espouse the cause of their defeated friends.
Manning seven large canoes, they came down the coast with a
well-disciplined force under the renowned leader Kare-waho, and
landing at Otiki, they first demolished the _pa_ there and then
passed on to Ohaua, whither the fugitives had fled, and delivered
their attack upon that stronghold. No decisive result was achieved, as
the rupture appears to have been healed before victory crowned the
arms of either side, and the invaders were as eager to return as the
besieged were glad to see them go. But the peace thus hastily made was
as speedily broken, and a series of events was soon to ensue which was
fated to have far-reaching results. Shortly after the return of the
northern raiders a noted Waikato warrior, named Te Uira, came into the
disputed Aotea territory, and while there varied his sport as a
fisherman by killing a stray Ngati-Toa tribesman. On hearing of this
tragedy Te Rauparaha and a war party promptly went over and retaliated
by slaying Te Uira. Though to all appearances strictly within the code
of morality which sanctions the taking of a life for a life, the
Waikato people chose to regard this act as one of treachery, and the
magnitude of the crime was measured by the value of the life taken. Te
Uira was a man who had ranked high in their esteem. As a warrior and a
leader of men he was a _toa_, indeed, and his death was to them a
disaster. They therefore determined that the annihilation of Ngati-Toa
was the only adequate solace for their injured feelings, and on this
end they now concentrated their energies. War party after war party
was sent over to Kawhia, and many desperate battles were fought, out
of which Ngati-Toa seemed to emerge generally with success. But the
gloom of impending disaster was gathering round Te Rauparaha, for the
powerful Ngati-Mania-poto tribe became leagued with Waikato against
him; and, although he had no difficulty in defeating them singly when
they met, their coalition with his old enemy was a more serious
matter. Stung by a recent repulse at Ta-whitiwhiti, they hurried
messengers to all their distant friends, and in answer to their call a
combined force of 1,600 men under Te Rau-Angaanga, father of the more
famous Te Wherowhero, was soon marching against Kawhia's diminishing
band of defenders. Crossing the ranges, they soon fell upon the
Hiku-parea _pa_, which they invested at the close of the day. During
the night half their force lay concealed in ambush, and when the
garrison emerged in the morning to give battle to an apparently small
body of besiegers they were mortified to find themselves so hopelessly
outnumbered and outgeneralled that there was nothing left for them to
do but die as bravely as they might. The invaders then marched to
attack the great Te Totara _pa_, where Te Rauparaha was personally in
command, and here again the defenders were driven in before the swift
onslaught of the allies. But where his arms had failed him Te
Rauparaha's diplomacy stood him in good stead. He managed to soothe Te
Rau-Angaanga into agreeing to a truce, and a temporary peace was
patched up, only to be broken by the turbulent temper of the
Ngati-Toa, who saw no impropriety in committing fresh aggressions so
soon as their militant neighbours had returned home.
The position was thus becoming grave for Te Rauparaha, and in an
effort to stem the threatening disaster he sought to turn to some
practical purpose the influence and prestige which he had now gained
with the neighbouring chiefs. He suggested to his more trusted friends
amongst the Maori leaders the need and wisdom of a confederation of
all their tribes against the oppression of the Waikato people. But,
though conducted with consummate tact and skill, these negotiations
were destined to be futile. While all were friendly enough with Te
Rauparaha, mutual jealousies existed amongst the other tribes, which
destroyed any prospect of that unanimity and cohesion so essential to
the success of such a scheme. Nga-Puhi remembered how Ngati-Maru had
invaded their territory in days of old, and now that they were
possessed of muskets they saw a prospect of repaying the debt--a
chance much too promising to be lightly thrown away. Te Heuheu, the
great chief at Taupo, would not coalesce with Ngati-Maru, and the
Arawa still nursed their grudge against Tainui. These ancient
grievances, which never seemed to die, kept the tribes outside Waikato
apart, while the fact that Te Wherowhero had been able to form an
offensive and defensive alliance with the Blücher of Maoridom, Te
Waharoa, so strengthened his position that, after months wasted in
fruitless appeal, Te Rauparaha returned to Kawhia more than ever
convinced that if his tribe was to be spared the humiliation of
defeat, and perhaps annihilation, self-reliance must be the keynote of
his future policy.
During the next two years (1816-1818) Te Rauparaha devoted himself to
occasional excursions against Waikato, in which he was moderately
successful; but his more important operations at this period were
directed against the tribes of Taranaki. The peculiar ethics of Maori
warfare were largely responsible for the first of these southern
descents upon a people with whom he was now beginning to enjoy
considerable intercourse. A marriage had been celebrated between
Nohorua, his elder brother, and a Taranaki lady,[32] and by way of
commemorating the solemnity, a feast on a sumptuous scale had been
given to the bridegroom's friends. Te Rauparaha, with the generosity
for which he was at this time remarkable, was not slow to return the
compliment, and in the course of a few months he journeyed southward
to Te Taniwha _pa_, where Huri-whenua, the brother of Nohorua's
young wife, lived, bringing gifts of dried fish and other seasonable
foods. These social amenities led to still more intimate relations,
and at the end of the following kumara and taro harvest the chief of
Te Taniwha proceeded northward in his fleet of canoes on a promised
visit to Kawhia. A fair wind beating into their triangular sails
carried the canoes to within ten miles of their destination, and at
the close of day the fleet headed for the shore at Harihari. Next
morning they were met at their camp by Te Rauparaha and Rauhihi, who
assured them of a cordial welcome at Kawhia and then proceeded
overland to prepare their reception. In the meantime a rolling surf
had set into the bay where the canoes were beached, and in the
operation of launching them several were overturned and their crews
nearly drowned. This misfortune, which involved the loss of all the
food intended for the feast, angered Huri-whenua exceedingly, and he
adopted a strange but characteristically Maori-like method of seeking
balm for his injured feelings. Gathering a party of his people
together, he set off in pursuit of Te Rauparaha and his friend, and,
attacking them, succeeded in killing Rauhihi, but not Te Rauparaha,
who reached Kawhia after an exciting chase. His assailants, knowing
full well that this unprovoked attack upon their chief would excite
the indignation of Ngati-Toa, retired in haste to their home, which
they immediately began to place in a condition of defence against the
day when Te Rauparaha would return to seek satisfaction for the
contemptuous disregard of his hospitality and the menace offered to
his life. Nor were their precautions taken a moment too soon. Scarcely
had the walls been strengthened and the Waihi stream dammed up so as
to form a wide lake on one side of the _pa_ than Te Rauparaha
appeared, accompanied by Tuwhare,[33] one of the most celebrated
Nga-Puhi chiefs of his day. This was Tuwhare's first visit to the
south. He had gladly accepted the invitation to join the expedition,
for his purpose in coming to Kawhia had been to lead an invasion into
Taranaki territory, in order to secure some of the valuable mats, for
making which the people of that part were widely famed.
Tuwhare's contingent consisted of not more than two hundred men, but
they brought with them something which, at this period, was more to be
dreaded than men--the deadly musket. A few of these arms were carried
by the invaders, while the defenders had not as yet even heard of or
seen them.[34] The precautions of the garrison had robbed the
northerners of all hope of successfully capturing the _pa_ by assault,
and so they sat down to besiege it in the most leisurely fashion. For
several weeks besiegers and besieged watched each other across the
wide lagoon which had been formed by the waters of the Waihi. At last
Te Rauparaha and his people, growing weary of the enforced inactivity,
sent proposals of peace to Huri-whenua. These were accepted, and
subsequently ratified, but not before the pride of Ngati-Toa had been
salved by their insistence upon a quaint condition. Te Rauparaha,
recognising that the damming of the Waihi stream had been the means of
frustrating his plans, demanded that, before the siege was raised, the
dam should be removed. The point was conceded and the barrier broken
down; and, as the waters rushed back into their bed, the northerners
ostentatiously discharged their muskets in token of victory, and
"then," says a Maori chronicler, "this ignorant people of these parts
heard for the first time the noise of that weapon, the gun." The war
party remained for some time on amicable terms at Te Taniwha, and
before they had resolved to return home they were importuned to engage
in further aggressions by Te Puoho, of whom we shall hear more anon.
This warrior was a man of influence amongst the Ngati-Tama tribe, who
held what has been called "the gate of Taranaki"; and it was due to
the numerous connections by marriage between the northerners and
Ngati-Tama that the former had been permitted to pass unmolested to
the attack upon Te Taniwha. Te Puoho now sought recompense for his
friendship by enlisting the sympathies of the northern leaders in the
redress of his own grievances. He solicited their aid in an attack
upon Tatara-i-maka _pa_, the home of those who had been responsible
for the death of his sister not long before.
Obedient to Te Puoho's summons, and eager to secure mats and heads and
slaves, the war party marched upon the _pa_, which stood with its
terraced ramparts upon the sea-coast eleven miles south-west of New
Plymouth. Seeing the invaders approach, the defenders went out to meet
them, and gave them battle on the open space in front of the _pa_; but
the sound of the guns, and the sight of men falling as by the hand of
some invisible enemy, so terrorised the defenders that their lines
were soon broken, and they fled, a demoralised host, back to their
stronghold, which was immediately stormed and taken with great
slaughter. This incident inspired the following lament, which was
composed by one of the Taranaki people, in memory of those who fell at
Tatara-i-maka:--
"Sweet is the Spring, the September month,
When brilliant Canopus stands aloft,
As I lay within my solitary house,
Dazed with sad thoughts for my people
Departed in death like a flash.
To the cave of Rangi-totohu--
Emblem of sad disaster--
They are gone by the leadership
Of Uru, of the fearsome name.
'Twas there at the hill of Tatara-i-maka
The foe advanced in wedge-like form,
Whilst our gathered people bid defiance
At the entrance of the _pa_,
Where Muru-paenga[35] forced his way--
The army-raiser, the leader--
His was the fatal blow delivered,
At the ascent of Tuhi-mata:
Hence I am dried up here in sorrow."
From Tatara-i-maka the _taua_ moved southwards, attacking
Mounu-kahawai as they went. This _pa_ was taken under cover of
the smoke caused by firing the dry _raupo_ which grew in the
neighbouring swamps, and then Tapui-nikau was invested. Here the
defenders, though fighting only with their _rakau maori_, or
native weapons, made so gallant a resistance that not even the guns of
the invaders could penetrate it. They had filled the fighting towers
of the _pa_ with huge boulders and smaller stones, and the
branches of the trees which overhung the trenches were lined with men,
who handed the missiles to those best able to drop them upon the enemy
as they swarmed round the walls.[36] Changing their tactics, the
invaders drew off to a position which closed all communication with
the _pa_, and at the same time gave them complete control of the
surrounding country, so as to prevent the possibility of succour
reaching the beleaguered _pa_. It was during the respite from
active hostilities thus secured that there occurred one of those
strange incidents which, though common enough in Maori warfare, appear
so anomalous in the light of European custom. Te Ratutonu, one of the
defending chiefs, had been so conspicuous in repelling attacks that
his gallantry and skill in arms became the subject of universal
admiration throughout the northern camp. But not alone upon the men
had his bravery made its impression. Rangi Topeora, Te Rangihaeata's
sister, had witnessed his prowess, and, charmed by his handsome figure
and manly strength, had been seized with a desire to have the hero for
her husband. When the clash of arms had ceased, she persuaded her
uncle, Te Rauparaha, to have Ratutonu "called," a ceremony which was
performed by some one approaching the beleaguered _pa_, and under a
guarantee of safety, inviting the warrior into the camp. Ratutonu
obeyed the summons, and came down from the _pa_ to meet Topeora; and
to her he was married after the orators had delivered themselves of
speeches rich in eulogy of their new-found kinsman, and full of
admiration for the virtues of his bride.[37]
This unexpected union had raised a hope in the breast of the defenders
that the rigour of the siege would now be relaxed, and that peace
would be made as a fitting sequel to the romantic nuptials. In this
they were, however, doomed to disappointment, for the Nga-Puhi,
knowing that the food of the _pa_ must be failing, would listen
to no suggestion of compromise. But, moved by a more generous impulse,
Ngati-Awa, the Taranaki section of the allies, entered into secret
communication with the garrison, and finally arranged that the
defenders should be allowed to pass through their lines by night and
escape to the neighbouring hills. Next morning, great was the
excitement in the camp when it was discovered that there was neither
smoke ascending from the fires nor sound from the ramparts of the
_pa_. The enemy had slipped from under their very hand; had flown
from under their very eyes; and, as Ngati-Awa kept their own counsel,
there was not a trace to show or suggest how the trick had been
accomplished. Nothing, therefore, remained for the outwitted besiegers
to do but avail themselves of what plunder had fallen into their
hands, and make the best of their way back to their homes.
Upon the return of the _taua_ to Kawhia, its composite forces
separated and departed to their respective districts, but not before
the plans of a still more extensive campaign had been discussed. These
operations, however, did not commence for a year, and, in the
meantime, the seriousness of his position in relation to the Waikato
people was more than ever apparent to Te Rauparaha, whose inability to
come into contact with the whalers, and the consequent difficulty he
experienced in becoming possessed of muskets, brought him much
"darkness of heart." But, as he meditated, his anxiety of mind was to
some extent relieved by the arrival at Kawhia of the northern portion
of the war party, the raising of which had previously been agreed
upon. In accordance with this arrangement, Tuwhare, accompanied by
Patuone, and his brother, that picturesque figure in Maori history,
Tamati Waka Nene[38]--whose influence and eloquence were subsequently
to be so powerfully used to secure the acceptance by the natives of
the Treaty of Waitangi--left Hokianga in November, 1819, and
proceeding by a circuitous route which embraced the country of the
Waitemata, reached the home of Te Rauparaha, and found there a force
of four hundred men waiting to welcome them.
[Illustration: BURNING OF THE "BOYD."
From a painting by W. Wright, Auckland,
by kind permission of the artist.]
Accredited estimates give the strength of the combined contingents
at fully one thousand men, and they were armed with a greater number
of muskets than had ever previously been carried into the field by any
Maori organisation. A further distinction was the presence of many
leaders whose deeds were to be deeply imprinted upon the records of
Maori history. Each tribal section was under chiefs who are
acknowledged to have been amongst the classic warriors of their time;
so that, in the matter of skilful direction and heroic example, the
_taua_ might consider itself more than usually fortunate. The primary
purpose of the expedition appears to have been no more than a love of
adventure and a desire to kill and eat a few of their enemies; but
embraced within this scheme was a secondary motive, which involved the
redress of a grievance which Te Puoho had acquired against the
Whanganui people, whom he considered accountable for a slight put upon
his daughter. The friendly relations which prevailed between Ngati-Toa
and Ngati-Tama ensured the war party an uncontested passage through
"the gate of Taranaki"; and, although Ngati-Awa assembled to oppose
them, they were satisfied to desist, upon Te Rauparaha consenting to
pay the tribute of ownership by requesting permission to pass through
their territory.
The first important halt was made at Manu-korihi, on the north bank of
the Waitara River, where a stay of some length was made for the
purpose of finally determining the order of their plans. The
Manu-korihi people became deeply interested in the muskets which the
visitors had brought with them; and curious to observe their
effect--at the expense of some one else--they persuaded Te Rauparaha
and his friends to commence hostilities against the famous
Puke-rangiora _pa_, whose inhabitants had been guilty of some
cause of offence. The invitation to attack the great stronghold was
accepted with alacrity; but when the war party presented themselves
before the walls, they found it so strongly fortified and so keenly
defended that discretion dictated a less valiant course, and so they
passed Puke-rangiora, and went over the mountain track to Te
Kerikeringa in search of a meaner enemy. This _pa_ was a central point
in the system of defence set up by Ngati-Maru, who had established
populous settlements and made great clearings in the forest east of
the present town of Stratford. Their great fighting chief was
Tutahanga, who in former days had subdued the pride of both the
Waikato and the Nga-Puhi. Now he was old, but his martial bearing was
still such that, when the invaders inquired of their guides how they
might distinguish him from those of inferior rank, they were told, "He
is a star."
Graced by the red plumes of the tropic bird, the northerners moved up
to the attack, but were met with so stout a resistance by the
defenders, who had donned the white feathers of the sacred crane,
that, in spite of their muskets, their combination broke, and they
retired in disorder to the western slopes, where they were compelled
to resort to the tactics of a regular siege. From these heights, which
dominated the _pa_, they were occasionally able to shoot down an
unwary defender who exposed himself to their fire; but they did not
rely entirely upon this method of fighting to effect their conquest.
Frequent assaults were made upon the gateway, in one of which they
succeeded in shooting Tutahanga, and in another Patu-wairua, his
successor in command. Before his death, Patu-wairua, persuaded that
the _pa_ could not hold out much longer, desired to make peace if
possible; but his conciliatory views were overruled by the less
diplomatic leaders of the tribe. Patu-wairua then sat down and sang a
lament for his people, whose impending fate he deplored with all the
affection of a father. In the next sally he was killed in the
fore-front of the fighting line, bravely sustaining the unequal
contest, in which the _mere_ was matched against the musket.
With their two great leaders gone and many of their tribesmen dead, a
feeling of depression settled down upon the garrison, whose position
was daily growing less secure. But while they were sinking under the
weariness begotten of incessant vigilance, a Maori-like episode
occurred, in which the arts of the women were employed to do that in
which the stalwart arms of the men had failed. As a last device, the
Ngati-Maru generals hit upon the idea of sending all the young women
of the _pa_ into the camp of the invaders, to beguile the warriors
with their charms, and so induce them temporarily to relax the
severity of the siege. History does not record the fate of these
maidens of Te Kerikeringa; but they deserve at least a certain
immortality. For during the diversion thus caused the _pa_ was
silently evacuated, the survivors of the siege making their escape
across the Waitara River along the Tara-mouku Valley, and through the
dense forest which stretched for many miles into the heart of the
island.
The tidings that Kerikeringa had fallen spread with such rapidity
that, before the rejoicings of the victors had concluded, the tribes
to the southward had succeeded in concealing themselves within their
mountain fastnesses. Consequently we hear of no conflicts with
Ngati-Ruanui or Nga-Rauru, as the victorious _taua_ passed over
the old forest track which leads out into the open country near the
town of Normanby. This peaceful passage was not interrupted until they
reached the Whanganui River, where they found the resident tribes
drawn up in battle array to oppose them at the Turua _pa_. This
_pa_ was situated on the eastern bank of the river, a little
above the present town of Whanganui; but, in reaching it, the
northerners were faced with a serious initial difficulty, inasmuch as
they had no canoes of their own, and Te Anaua, of Whanganui, had taken
the precaution to remove his flotilla to the opposite shore. But the
ingenuity of Tuwhare and Te Rauparaha was equal to an emergency of
that kind. Ordering their men into the neighbouring swamps, they
employed a month in cutting dry _raupo_ leaves, out of which they
constructed a _mokihi_ fleet, and on these vegetable rafts the
whole force was eventually transported across the wide and deep
river. The capture of the _pa_ was a work of no great difficulty; for
here, as elsewhere, the muskets exercised their terrifying influence
upon natives coming into contact with them for the first time.
Southward the march was once more directed, and skirmishes followed
with Ngati-Apa in the Whangaehu and Rangitikei districts. No
protracted fighting was possible where the panic-stricken inhabitants
fled before the all-destroying guns. Across the Rangitikei the
_taua_ passed into the fertile district of the Manawatu, which
since the traditional days of Whatonga had been the home of the
Rangitane people. Of this hostile descent upon the coast the Rangitane
people declare that they, secure in their mountain fortresses, heard
nothing until the arrival of the war party at Otaki. Thither some of
the children of Toki-poto, the chief at Hotuiti, near Awahou (Foxton),
had gone on a visit to their friends; and there they met Te Rauparaha,
who inquired of them the whereabouts of their people and the number
and strength of their _pas_.
The patronising and fatherly demeanour which this warrior could
assume[39] when his ends were better served by the concealment of his
true purpose completely won the confidence of the lads, and, in their
innocence of the man, to whom they were confiding the secrets of the
tribe, they readily told him all that he wished to know. When the
desired information had been obtained some of Te Rauparaha's followers
proposed, as a precautionary measure, that the children should be
killed; but Te Rauparaha, more far-seeing than they, interposed, for
he had not yet exhausted their usefulness. In the depths of his
cunning he had conceived the idea of making the children of Toki-poto
the instruments by which that chief should be delivered into
Ngati-Toa's hands. Accordingly, he resisted the demand for their
blood, saying, "No, let them alone, they are only children. Rather
let us go and take Toki-poto out of the stern of the canoe." This was
his expressive and figurative method of conveying to his warriors that
he sought a more valuable trophy than the life of a child, and that he
had resolved upon no less a scheme than the assault of the Hotuiti
_pa_. To Mahuri, the eldest son of Toki-poto, he then turned, and in
dulcet tones he said, "Go to your father, I will see him."
Accompanied by the Ngati-Toa warriors and their leader, the lad led
the way to a small lake _pa_ at Hotuiti, whither Toki-poto had
gone with the major portion of his people from their main settlement
on the banks of the Manawatu River. The _pa_ itself was built on
one of the many miniature islets which dot the face of the lake; and,
while Te Rauparaha and his followers lurked in the bush which fringed
the margin, he sent the unsuspecting Mahuri to tell his father that Te
Rauparaha wished to talk with him. The first thought to arise in the
mind of the Rangitane chief was one of suspicion, and he at once
exclaimed, "No, I will not go. I shall be slain." But the boy, into
whose good graces Te Rauparaha had completely ingratiated himself,
ridiculed these fears, and urged his father to go. To these entreaties,
and possibly to fears of retaliation if he did not comply, Toki-poto
at last yielded, and, taking a few of his people with him, went in his
canoe, unarmed, to welcome his visitor.
Scarcely had they reached the edge of the wood when they were set upon
by the secreted warriors, and in the massacre which followed the chief
and a number of his followers were killed, the remainder, with the
exception of two, being taken prisoners. The two who escaped were
Mahuri, the innocent cause of the disaster, and Te Aweawe, the father
of the well-known family who still reside upon the Rangitane lands in
the Manawatu. Side by side with Toki-poto, there fell that day another
chief named Te Waraki, whose greenstone _mere_, a weapon famous
in the annals of the tribe, was buried on the site of the massacre by
the mourning people, and there it remained hidden for full sixty
years, until it was discovered in 1882.
Strange to say, Te Rauparaha did not press the advantage gained by the
removal of Hotuiti's chief by attacking the _pa_, but contented
himself with carrying off his prisoners to Otaki, where he rejoined
Waka Nene. Here the two chiefs rested for a time, pursuing vigilant
inquiries into the number and disposition of the resident tribes. They
visited for the first time the island stronghold of Kapiti, and found
it in the possession of a section of the Ngati-Apa people, under the
chieftainship of two men named Potau and Kotuku. The visit was made
with a simulation of friendship, for the time was not ripe for an
attack; and the northerners were satisfied for the moment with
examining the strategical features of the island, and extorting from
Potau and Kotuku a considerable quantity of the greenstone which they
had accumulated during the course of their traffic with the Ngai-Tahu
of the South Island.
Refreshed by their sojourn at Otaki, and considerably enlightened as
to its military possibilities, the northern war party then pushed on
southwards, fighting as they went, first at Wai-mapihi, a fortified
_pa_, the remains of which are still to be seen not far from the
Puke-rua railway station. The _pa_ was captured, it is said, by
treachery suggested by Te Rauparaha, and the Muaupoko, whose valour
had defied the most desperate efforts of their assailants, were hunted
in and through the bush by their fierce pursuers. Here, and at
Porirua, a number of canoes fell into the hands of the invaders, some
of whom now decided to vary the monotony of the land journey by the
exhilaration of the sea route. This determination ended disastrously.
Ignorant of the silent currents and treacherous tides of Cook Strait,
the Nga-Puhi men of two canoes were swamped while taking the outer
passage in rounding Sinclair Head, and fully one hundred of them were
drowned. The remainder of the canoes, steering a course inside the reefs,
escaped the danger of shipwreck, and reached Whanganui-a-Tara[40]
almost simultaneously with the party who had journeyed by land.
The country surrounding this great basin was then held by the
Ngati-Ira, a sub-branch of the Ngati-Kahungunu tribe, whose
possessions practically extended from Gisborne to Cape Palliser, on
the eastern side of the North Island. They were a brave and numerous
people, and when their _pa_ at Pa-ranga-hau was attacked, they
fought with a desperation which extorted admiration even from their
enemies. Though considerable numbers of Ngati-Ira were killed in this
conflict, Nga-Puhi did not escape scatheless; for one native account
says: "Ngati-Ira charged them in the face of the flames of their
muskets, and with their native weapons killed many Nga-Puhi." Hunger
was now beginning to assert its inconvenience; and the war party were
at this time compelled to live exclusively on the flesh of their
slaves, of whom large numbers were killed, each chief undertaking
successively to provide the necessary supply. Disease also attacked
their camps, of which there were two; and some mysterious pestilence
was responsible for the death of many warriors and several chiefs,
whose heads were preserved and their bodies burned, to prevent them
falling into the hands of the enemy. Scarcely had the stricken host
recovered from the prevailing sickness than the Ngati-Ira swept down
upon the bivouac at Te Aro in the dead of night, and, in the first
shock of the surprise, inflicted sore loss upon the sleeping warriors.
Thanks to their guns, the northerners were ultimately successful in
beating off the attack, and immediately afterwards the pas which
skirted the harbour were deserted by their inhabitants, who, reluctant
to accept the responsibility of battle under such unequal conditions,
beat a stealthy retreat into the Hutt Valley, whither the northern
chiefs followed them, though their force was now only a remnant of
what it had formerly been. They travelled by canoe up the river which
waters the valley, and, as they went, the resident people, confident
in their numbers, collected along the banks to jeer at them, and
contemptuously invited them on shore to be eaten.
The details of this campaign are but a repetition of successive
slaughters; for the panic created by the strange sound and deadly
power of the gun left the unhappy defenders no spirit to resist the
onslaughts of their assailants. For several weeks they remained in the
valley, guided from _pa_ to _pa_ by their slaves, who, to
save their own lives, were forced to sacrifice those of their
tribesmen. Every nook of the dark forest was penetrated, and even the
steeps of the Rimutaka Range were climbed in vengeful pursuit of the
fugitives. In connection with these manoeuvres the reputation of Te
Rauparaha has again been besmirched by suggestions of treachery--and
treachery of the blackest type; for nothing could be more hurtful to
the honour of a high chief than that he should prove faithless while
feigning hospitality. It has been recorded by the Nga-Puhi chroniclers
that, as they pushed on through the forest, they came upon a strongly
built and populous _pa_, which left some room for doubt as to
what the issue of an attack would be. To tempt the warriors into the
open was the policy advocated by Te Rauparaha, and to achieve this end
he sent messengers to the Ngati-Ira chiefs with offers of peace. To
render the bait more seductive, a feast was prepared, to which the
warriors of the Hutt were invited; and, on assembling, a northern man
sat down beside each one, prepared at a sign from their chief to
spring upon the unsuspecting guests. Into the _marae_ the women
brought the food, and, as the unsuspecting Ngati-Ira were revelling in
the delights of the banquet, the fatal signal was given by Te
Rauparaha, and a massacre commenced, which ended only with the capture
of the _pa_ and the rout of its inhabitants.[41] Whether the name
of Te Rauparaha will ever be cleared of this odious imputation which
the Nga-Puhi record has branded upon it is uncertain. But, as a
counterpoise, it must be remembered that those who have made the
accusations were at least willing participators in the schemes which
they ascribe to him, and that, if the plans were his, the execution of
them was undoubtedly theirs.
Having exhausted the field of conquest open to them in the valley of
the Hutt, the war party returned to the harbour where their canoes
were beached, and, undeterred by the fact that their numbers had now
dwindled to less than three hundred, they set off by sea for Palliser
Bay, by which route they had determined to enter the Wairarapa. A
successful reprisal by the Ngati-Kahungunu tribe, who had cut off and
annihilated a small party of the northerners, was the immediate
justification for this new development in the plans of Tuwhare and Te
Rauparaha. The opposing forces met at the Tauhere Nikau _pa_,
near Featherston, which was strongly fortified and bravely defended;
but the muskets which these rude imitators of Cortés carried with them
were here, as elsewhere, sufficient to spread consternation through
the opposing ranks, and the _pa_ soon fell before the Ngati-Toa
assault. Numbers of the besieged escaped to the hills, where they
suffered the biting pangs of hunger, and the bitterness of soul
inseparable from the aftermath of war.[42] Others, keeping to the open
country, were pursued as far as Porangahau, in Hawke's Bay; and then
the war party, weary of their bloody work, made their way back to
Tauhere Nikau, where they spent some days demonstrating their contempt
for the enemy by eating the bodies of the slain.
When hunger and tribal hatred had been sated, the victorious warriors,
observing ominous signs of a gathering storm, returned to the west
coast, and remained for a few days' rest at Omere.[43] While here,
the eagle eye of Waka Nene descried a vessel[44] in full sail beating
through Cook Strait. To the quick intellect of the chief, the sight of
the ship opened up in an instant fresh possibilities; for he knew what
intercourse with the _pakeha_ had done for the Nga-Puhi, and he saw no
reason why the same advantages should not be shared by his friend and
ally, Te Rauparaha. Doubtless that chief had confided his fears to
Waka Nene, and they had probably consulted long and anxiously as to
the growing weakness of the position at Kawhia. When, therefore,
Tamati beheld the passing ship, he saw at a glance that, if this part
of the coast was frequented by vessels of the white man, it offered
the same facilities for obtaining arms and ammunition which Hongi
enjoyed at the Bay of Islands. With unrestrained excitement he called
out to his comrade: "Oh, Raha,[45] do you see that people sailing on
the sea? They are a very good people; and if you conquer this land and
hold intercourse with them, you will obtain guns and powder and become
very great." This optimistic little speech was apparently all that was
required to confirm Te Rauparaha in his growing desire to take the
decisive step of migrating with the whole of his people from the
storm-threatened Kawhia; and when the chief turned his face towards
home, it was with the full resolve to come back at the first
convenient season and make the country his own.
The homeward journey was characterised by the same ruthless behaviour
towards the resident people which had been practised on the way down,
those who were captured being killed and eaten without any
unnecessary ceremony.[46] What occurred within the confines of the
Manawatu district we do not know, because the present-day
representatives of the Rangitane people declare that they saw and
heard nothing of the invaders. As they proceeded further north,
however, we hear more of them; for while they were in the Rangitikei
district an incident occurred which it suited the Ngati-Apa people not
to forget. In one of the many excursions made into the interior in
search of prisoners, a young chieftainess, named Pikinga, was captured
by a party of Te Rangihaeata's men. Pikinga was the sister of Arapata
Hiria, the Ngati-Apa chief against whom Waka Nene and Te Rauparaha
were operating at the moment; and, if the gossip of the day is to be
believed, she was possessed of no mean personal charms. She, at least,
was attractive enough to captivate the most ruthless of the party, for
it was not long before Te Rangihaeata fell a victim to her charms and
made her his wife.
Whether this was merely a passing whim on the part of an amorous young
warrior or a move in a much deeper game of diplomacy, it would be
difficult to say at this distance of time, particularly as each tribe
now imputes to the action of the chief a different motive. The
Ngati-Apa claim, with some insistence, that the marriage was the
expression of a bond of perpetual peace between them and Te Rauparaha:
while the Ngati-Raukawa, to whose lot it fell some fifty years later
to contest the point, contend that no such wide construction could be
put upon Rangihaeata's action, and that, even if it involved the
tribes in a treaty of friendship at the time, the compact was
subsequently denounced by Te Rauparaha on account of the treachery of
Ngati-Apa. It is quite within the region of possibility that Te
Rauparaha, having regard to the political aspect of the situation,
would, so soon as he had measured their strength, lead the Ngati-Apa
to believe that he desired to cultivate their goodwill; because
immediately he had determined to seize the country opposite Kapiti, he
would perceive the wisdom of having some friendly tribe stationed
between him and his northern enemies, upon whom he could rely to
withstand the first shock of battle in the event of a Waikato
invasion. Such tactics would not be foreign to the Ngati-Toa leader,
for that part of his life which was not spent in battle was occupied
in the development of schemes whereby the efforts of one tribe were
neutralised by the efforts of another; and if he could make pawns of
the Ngati-Apa, he would chuckle to himself and say, "Why not?"
But Te Rauparaha was not the man to seriously contemplate anything in
the way of a permanent peace with Ngati-Apa, or with any one else whom
he felt strong enough to destroy. And even assuming that he encouraged
them in the belief that Rangihaeata's devotion to Pikinga was a common
bond between them, he would not dream of maintaining such an
understanding a moment longer than it suited his purpose. It seems,
therefore, more likely that, when he satisfied himself that the people
of the Rangitikei were no match for his own warriors, and that he
could subdue them at his leisure, he was at some pains to impress them
with a sense of his magnanimity, but only because he desired to use
them as a buffer between himself and the Waikatos. Years afterwards,
when he felt secure against invasion, he repudiated all friendship
with Ngati-Apa, and ordered his people to wage eternal war against
them. The claim which the Ngati-Apa subsequently made to the land in
the Rangitikei-Manawatu districts, on the ground that they were never
conquered by the Ngati-Toa, because this marriage protected them from
conquest, was therefore not well founded, the ordinary occurrence of a
chief taking a captive woman to be his slave-wife being invested with
a significance which it did not possess. Upon the consummation of
this happy event, the war party, laden with spoil and prisoners, made
their way back to the north. When they reached Kawhia, after an
absence of eleven months, Tuwhare being dead,[47] Waka Nene, who had
now assumed command of the northern contingent, took his leave of Te
Rauparaha, and Te Rauparaha prepared to take leave of the land of his
fathers.
[22] Braves.
[23] Waitohi had other children, one of whom, Topeora, afterwards
became the mother of Matene Te Whiwhi, one of the most influential and
friendly chiefs on the west coast of the North Island. Topeora is
perhaps more famed than any other Maori lady, for the number of her
poetical effusions, which generally take the form of _kaioraora_,
or cursing songs, in which she expresses the utmost hatred of her
enemies. Her songs are full of historical allusions, and are therefore
greatly valued. She also bore the reputation of being something of a
beauty in her day.
[24] There appears to be some doubt as to the exact locality of Te
Rauparaha's birth, some authorities giving it as Maungatautari and
others as Kawhia.
[25] Marore was killed by a member of the Waikato tribe--it is said,
at the instigation of Te Wherowhero--while she was attending a
_tangi_ in their district, about the year 1820.
[26] War party.
[27] The traditional accounts of the Maoris have it that at this
period Te Rauparaha was "famous in matters relative to warfare,
cultivating generosity, welcoming of strangers and war parties."
[28] This tribe was afterwards partially exterminated during the raids
of Hongi and Te Waharoa.
[29] "When Paora, a northern chief, invaded the district of Whanga-roa,
in 1819, the terrified people described him as having twelve muskets,
while the name of Te Korokoro, then a great chief of the Bay of
Islands, who was known to possess fifty stand of arms, was heard with
terror for upwards of two hundred miles beyond his own district"
(_Travers_).
[30] "If we take the whole catalogue of dreadful massacres they (the
New Zealanders) have been charged with, and (setting aside partiality
for our own countrymen) allow them to be carefully examined, it will
be found that we have invariably been the aggressors: and when we have
given serious cause of offence, can we be so irrational as to express
astonishment that a savage should seek revenge?" (_Earle_).
[31] Marsden, writing of this time, says that such was the dread of
the Maoris that he was compelled to wait for more than three years
before he could induce a captain to bring the missionaries to New
Zealand, as "no master of a vessel would venture for fear of his ship
and crew falling a sacrifice to the natives." As an extra precaution,
all vessels which did visit the country were supplied with boarding
nets.
[32] Whare-mawhai, sister of Huri-whenua, chief of the Ngati-Rahiri,
who lived at Waihi, four or five miles north of Waitara.
[33] Tuwhare belonged to the Roroa branch of the Nga-Puhi tribe.
[34] When the musket was first introduced into Taranaki, a slave was
very anxious to know how it was used. A Nga-Puhi warrior explained to
him the method of loading and priming, then told him to look down the
muzzle. The slave did so, whereupon the Nga-Puhi pulled the trigger,
and the top of the unfortunate slave's head was blown off, much to the
amusement of the surrounding crowd.
[35] Associated with Tuwhare and Te Rauparaha in this raid was another
and equally famous chief, named Muru-paenga. That he was a great
warrior is proved by the fact that his enemies speak of him in the
lament already quoted as "the army-raiser, the leader," while his
friend Te Taoho, in a _tangi_ composed after his fall, refers to
his "warlike eloquence," and compares him to "a richly-laden vessel,
with all knowledge and great courage." But Muru-paenga is not merely
famed in song, for his achievements have in a measure passed into
proverb. In the taking of _pas_, one of his favourite stratagems
was to stealthily approach the enemy's fort at nightfall, and pounce
upon it with the first light of dawn. This involved the sleeping of
his men amongst the tender ferns growing on the outer edge of the
bush, which in the morning necessarily bore a trodden-down appearance,
a fact which did not escape the keen observation of those who had oft
been the victims of his tactics. Consequently, when Muru-paenga was
killed by Nga-Puhi in 1826, the joyful news went through the country
which he had previously devastated, and the saying was composed, in
significant suggestion that the ferns and the people would no longer
be crushed, "Rejoice, O ye little ferns of the woods, Muru-paenga is
dead."
[36] "During the siege, Tawhai (afterwards Mohi Tawhai), father of the
late Hone Mohi Tawhai, M.H.R., who was with the northern contingent of
the taua in the attack, was close under one of the towers of the
_pa_ when one of the defenders hurled a big stone at him which
split open his head. But by careful doctoring he recovered--careful
doctoring according to Maori ideas meant that they poured hot oil into
the wound and then sewed it up" (_Polynesian Journal_).
[37] Topeora did not secure her husband without a struggle, for
another lady, Neke-papa, had also taken a fancy to the handsome
warrior, and as Te Ratutonu was leaving the _pa_, a dispute arose
as to which should have him. But Topeora, being fleet of foot, ran to
meet the advancing warrior, and cast her _topuni_, or dog-skin
mat, over him, "and this being in accordance with Maori custom, Te
Ratutonu became the husband of Topeora."
[38] His home was on the banks of the Hokianga River, on the western
side of the country, opposite to the Bay of Islands. He afterwards
became a convert to the Wesleyan Mission, and received at his baptism
the prefix "Thomas Walker" to his old Maori name of Nene, hence the
name by which he is known in history--Tamati Waka Nene.
[39] The late Hon. J. W. Barnicoat, who knew Te Rauparaha well, has
assured the writer that when it suited him the wily old chief could
"lend a most angelic expression to his countenance."
[40] Now known as Wellington.
[41] "All these works of treachery, ambushes, murders, and all these
wrongs done by the _taua_ of Nga-Puhi, were taught them by Te
Rauparaha" (_Nga-Puhi account_).
[42] The female prisoners were secured by plaiting flax ropes into
their long hair, and the men were imprisoned in enclosures made for
the purpose.
[43] Omere is a high bluff just to the south of Ohariu Bay. This bluff
was the place which Maoris always visited to see if the Straits were
calm enough to cross: hence the reference in the old song--
Where Omere projects outside,
The look-out Mount for calms.
[44] It has been suggested that this vessel was either the _Wostok_
or the _Mirny_ of the Russian scientific expedition sent out by
Czar Alexander I. in 1819, and which visited Queen Charlotte Sound. If
this is so, the date of this event was either late in May or early in
June, 1820.
[45] A contraction for Rauparaha.
[46] On one occasion, when Te Rauparaha was conversing with Mr. George
Clarke, then Protector of the Aborigines, the latter asked him how he
made his way from north to south. With a wicked twinkle in his eye, Te
Rauparaha replied, "Why, of course, I ate my way through."
[47] On reaching Whanganui, a division in the councils of the leaders
took place, Ngati-Toa and Nga-Puhi remaining on the coast, while
Tuwhare made an intrepid dash up the Whanganui River with his own
immediate followers. They fought their way up into the "cliff
country," in the upper reaches of the river, and here, in an
engagement at the Kai-whakauka _pa_, Tuwhare received a wound on
the head from which he shortly afterwards died. On receiving the fatal
blow, he contemptuously remarked to his assailant: "If thine had been
the arm of a warrior I should have been killed, but it is the arm of a
cultivator."
CHAPTER IV
THE LAND OF PROMISE
When the period of feasting and enjoyment, which invariably followed
upon the return of a successful Maori war party, had terminated at
Kawhia, Te Rauparaha immediately became involved in a fresh struggle
with Waikato. The cause of the hostility was remote; but, as Waikato
had vowed to drive him out, no pretext was too slight upon which to
base a quarrel. Thus the killing of one of their chiefs by a Taranaki
warrior, to whom Te Rauparaha was related, was sufficient to justify
the marching of a large war party against him. Their force advanced in
two sections: the one came down the inland track, and the other, which
was to actively engage Te Rauparaha, entered Kawhia from the sea. Two
_pas_, Tau-mata-Kauae and Te Kawau, speedily fell before the
invaders, and again Ngati-Toa were defeated at the battle of Te
Karaka, on the borders of Lake Taharoa, after an heroic struggle, in
which it is said that three hundred Ngati-Toa fought more than a
thousand Waikatos. These disasters were indeed darkening the outlook
for Ngati-Toa, and the position has been graphically described by one
native historian, who states that "the losses of the tribe of Te
Rauparaha were very great; by day and by night they were killed by
Ngati-Pou." Success had also attended the arms of the section of
Waikato who, under Te Wherowhero, had swept through the Waipa Valley
and across the forest plateau until they reached the Wai-Kawau
_pa_ on the sea-coast, just north of the Mokau River. This they
stormed and sacked by force of overpowering numbers, and, surfeited
with victory, they united with their comrades at Te Karaka, and then
triumphantly marched home.
With so many of his _pas_ obliterated and his warriors slain, Te
Rauparaha retired upon Te Arawi, a coastal stronghold built upon the
summit of a forbidding-looking rock, which at full tide is completely
surrounded by a breaking sea. Here he had leisure to reflect upon the
lessening radius of his freedom and to formulate his plans for
extricating his people from a position of increasing peril; and we may
fairly assume that it was now that his final decision to migrate from
Kawhia to Kapiti was taken. Once resolved on this course, he applied
himself systematically to the task of persuading his people to enter
into the spirit of the scheme, over which he himself had become so
enthusiastic, and which he now deemed necessary to their safety. The
task was by no means a simple one, for the impending danger was not so
apparent to all the tribe as it was to their chief; and, moreover,
there centred in the spot which he was asking them to leave the
traditions and associations of all the centuries which had passed
since their forefathers had first landed there from the pilgrim canoe.
They knew each nook and corner, from the caves to the hill-tops, every
point of which spoke to them of the beloved past. Here a rock which
had been a trysting-place in some tragic love affair, there a haunt of
spirits, yonder a burying-ground made sacred by the bones of their
ancestors, and there again a battlefield hallowed by the memory of the
fallen. Each of these was a tie dear to the Maori; and they were loath
to leave all that linked them to the past and face a future full of
doubt and uncertainty.
But the confidence which Te Rauparaha had inspired, and the prospect
of guns and ammunition in abundance, gradually overcame these
sentimental objections; and before long the Ngati-Toa people agreed to
follow their chief whithersoever he might lead. Te Rauparaha was,
however, prudent enough to recognise that his own section of the
tribe, though brave at heart, were few in numbers for so serious an
undertaking as the conquest of a new territory. As soon, therefore, as
he had secured the consent of his own tribe, he paid a visit to
Maungatautari, for the purpose of obtaining the co-operation of
Ngati-Raukawa. With them he was no more successful at first than he
had been with his own people. He pointed out their liability to
attack, the difficulty in obtaining guns, shut out as they were from
communication with the whalers, and the prospect of an easy victory
over the weakened tribes of the coast. But they were reluctant to give
up all that they possessed for a visionary and problematical success,
and it was not till quite a year later that he was able even partially
to break down their resistance. In pressing his claims upon the
Ngati-Raukawa, he was materially aided by a somewhat romantic incident
which occurred during his stay at Maungatautari. Although his mother
was a Ngati-Raukawa woman, and by virtue of that fact he could claim
chieftainship amongst them, Te Rauparaha was not regarded as a
particularly brilliant star in their peerage; but what he lacked in
pedigree was more than compensated for by his mental initiative and
personal courage. Conscious of his own power, he never lost an
opportunity of impressing it upon others; and it is therefore not a
matter for surprise that he made the death of the Ngati-Raukawa chief
the occasion of advancing his own claims to leadership.
[Illustration: _Photo by Jackson._
TE ARAWI PA, KAWHIA.
From which the Ngati-Toa migration commenced.]
Thus it was a fortunate circumstance for him that, while he was
advocating the conquest of Kapiti, Hape Taurangi, the great chief of
Maungatautari, was seized with a fatal illness, and, while the whole
tribe sat silently waiting for the end, the question of succession
seemed to trouble him, as he probably realised the absence of a
master-mind amongst his own sons. To them he put the question: "Can
you tread in my steps and lead my people to victory? Can you uphold
the honour of the tribe?" To these interrogations not one of his sons
replied, and the silent suspense remained unbroken, until Te
Rauparaha, springing from the ring of warriors, exclaimed, "I am able
to tread in your steps, and even do that which you could not do." The
apparent presumption of this speech was lost in the general
satisfaction, and, when Hape passed into the Great Beyond, Te
Rauparaha took over his wives and his leadership, the latter of which
he retained to his dying day.[48] But the measure of authority which
had passed to him on the death of Hape did not include the sole
direction of Ngati-Raukawa's affairs. The tribe still looked to their
natural leaders for guidance in domestic matters, and the new
influence gained by Te Rauparaha in their councils, though
considerable, was not sufficient to overcome the obduracy of the tribe
towards what they chose to regard as his chimerical proposal.
Nothing daunted, however, by the refusal of his kinsmen to participate
in his bold enterprise, Te Rauparaha proceeded with patient
deliberation to make his own arrangements. These involved the most
careful planning and delicate negotiation, for failure in any one
direction might wreck the whole scheme. The first consideration was to
secure safe conduct for his people through the territory of the
Taranaki tribes, and the establishment of resting-places where the
very old and very young could recover their strength, and where
sufficient food could be grown to carry them on to the next point of
vantage. To this end negotiations were entered into with the Ngati-Awa
and Ngati-Tama chiefs, who were more or less connected with Ngati-Toa
by inter-marriage. It would, however, be a mistake to elevate this
racial relationship into a bond of sincere friendship between these
tribes, for neither would have hesitated long about a proposal to
destroy the other, had a favourable opportunity presented itself.
Their attitude towards each other was distinctly one of armed
neutrality, which at any moment might have broken out into open
rupture. But even this negative attitude of the tribes proved useful
to Te Rauparaha, as it enabled him to approach Ngati-Awa and
Ngati-Tama with at least the semblance of friendship, while it
deprived them of open hostility as a reason for refusing his requests.
The concessions which the Ngati-Toa leader asked for were therefore
granted, though grudgingly; but he could no more persuade Ngati-Awa to
go with him than he could impress the Ngati-Raukawa; and when he
reminded them of the change which was coming over the system of Maori
warfare, and the weakness in which they would be left by his
departure, they laughed at his misgivings, boasted of their ancient
_mana_, and told him that his fears were altogether unworthy of a
chief of his standing. How dearly they paid for their lack of
foresight is told in the fall of Puke-rangiora _pa_ a few years later,
when the Waikatos swept down upon them and drove them flying into the
arms of the man whose counsel they had so carelessly despised.
Having thus diplomatically arranged an open road for the passage of
his people to the south, he found it equally essential to secure an
unmolested departure from the north. He therefore appreciated the
necessity of making terms with his old enemy, Te Wherowhero, of
Waikato, and in this important negotiation he availed himself of the
services of two Ngati-Mania-poto chiefs, who occupied the country
close to Kawhia and were on friendly terms with Te Wherowhero. These
chiefs paved the way for a conference, at which Te Rauparaha appears
to have been unusually candid with his old antagonist. He frankly
unfolded to him the details of his proposed migration, and, in
consideration of Te Wherowhero's guaranteeing him immunity from
attack, he, on his part, agreed to cede the whole of the Ngati-Toa
lands to the Waikato tribes after his people had vacated them. Such
easy acquisition of a valuable piece of country was not without its
influence upon Te Wherowhero. But he was even more impressed by its
strategic than by its inherent value. The migration of Ngati-Toa
would rid him of a troublesome enemy on the west, and enable him to
concentrate all his forces on his eastern frontier, where he would be
the better able to resist the aggressions of that other remarkable
figure in Maori history, Te Waharoa, should it ever occur to that
warrior to attack him. On the understanding, then, that Kawhia was to
be formally ceded to him, Te Wherowhero undertook not to molest the
migrating tribe, either during their preparations or on the actual
march.
The question of immunity from attack having been thus satisfactorily
disposed of, the next matter which Te Rauparaha had to consider was
the securing of an adequate supply of provisions for his people during
their pilgrimage. As it was impossible to complete the journey in a
single season, it was necessary not only that large quantities of food
should be carried with them, but that planting-places should be
established at various points along the route of march, where these
supplies could be renewed from time to time. None of these details
were overlooked, but all were worked out with mathematical exactitude
by the consummate organiser in whose brain the migration had been
planned; and the smoothness and precision with which these precautions
dovetailed together furnish a remarkable example of high organising
capacity. As a final preparation, it was necessary that the
disposition of his fighting men should receive some attention, because
he could not hope to conceal his real purpose from the people whose
country he was about to invade. It is true he did not anticipate any
serious opposition, because the defeats inflicted upon them by the
recent expedition under Tuwhare, Waka Nene, Patuone, and himself had
so reduced their strength as to render serious opposition impossible;
but, in view of the limited force at his command, and the unlikelihood
of increasing it, unnecessary waste had to be guarded against. He
therefore divided his warriors into suitable sections, and, appointing
a sub-chief to lead each company, he retained the supreme command of
affairs in his own hands. The carrying out of these varied
preparations had now occupied several months, and when all was ripe
for departure he paid a last visit to the surrounding tribes and
chiefs--to Kukutai, of Lower Waikato, to Pehi-Tukorehu, of
Ngati-Mania-poto, to Te Kanawa, of Waikato, bidding them good-bye,
and, as an example in good faith, he kept his word to Te Wherowhero,
saying to that chief: "Farewell! remain on our land at Kawhia; I am
going to take Kapiti for myself: do not follow me." At Mungatautari a
final effort was made to induce the Ngati-Raukawa to join him; but,
although there were evidences of weakening resistance, he had still to
wait several months before their objections were so far overcome as to
permit him any measure of hope that they would yet yield and follow
him. The tour of leave-taking at an end, Te Rauparaha returned to his
_pa_ at Te Arawi, and there summoned his people to prepare for the
fateful march. When all was ready, the blazing flaxstick was put to
the walls of the great carved house which had adorned the _pa_, and as
the smoke of its destruction arose, the whole tribe of fifteen hundred
souls passed through the gate which they were never again to enter.
In the case of unlettered peoples there is necessarily some difficulty
in determining the precise periods at which important incidents in
their history have occurred; and in this instance we have nothing to
guide us except the arrangement and comparison of subsequent events.
By this mode of reasoning we are led to the conclusion that the
migration from Kawhia must have occurred during the latter months of
the year 1821. But, whatever obscurity rests upon this point,
tradition is clear[49] that the circumstances under which the exodus
commenced were singularly auspicious. The day broke with a cloudless
sky, and, as the sun rose into the blue dome, the landscape for miles
was lit by the rosy tints of morn, rendering every peak and valley
more beautiful. On the route of march lay the hill of Moeatoa, and to
its summit the pilgrims climbed, in order to take a last fond look at
their ancient home. As they turned and gazed upon old Kawhia the
memories of the past came crowding back upon them, and it is easy to
understand their deep manifestations of sorrow at leaving their
ancestral domain. The softer sentiments associated with home and
country are not the exclusive prerogative of civilised beings. These
people, savage and ruthless though they were, thrilled with the same
patriotic feeling which prompted the Prophet of Israel to exclaim: "If
I forget thee, O Jerusalem! may my right hand forget her cunning." And
although their form of expressing it was neither so beautiful nor so
poetical, they were, nevertheless, quite as sincere when they cried
upon the mountain-side: "Kawhia, remain here! The people of Kawhia are
going to Kapiti, to Waipounamu." "The love of a New Zealander for his
land is not the love of a child for his toys," says a well-known
writer.[50] "His title is connected with many and powerful
associations in his mind, his affection for the homes of his fathers
being connected with their deeds of bravery, with the feats of their
boyhood, and the long rest of his ancestors for generations." And
there is no reason to suppose that these feelings were less active in
the Ngati-Toa at such a moment than they were in other Maori tribes.
The closing scene in the life of the Ngati-Toa at
Kawhia has been beautifully described by Thomas
Bracken, whose word-picture of the scene on Moeatoa
Hill is amongst the finest that came from his poetic
pen:--
"Beneath the purple canopy of morn,
That hung above Kawhia's placid sheet
Of waters crystalline, arose on high
The golden shield of God, on azure field,
With crimson tassels dipping in the sea!
And from its burnished face a shower of rays
Shot up the hills and gilt their spires and peaks
In lambent sheen, until the turrets seemed
Like precious ornaments of purest gold
On mighty altars raised by giant priests
In olden times, to offer sacred fire
As sacrifice unto the Fount of Light,
From whence the planets and the myriad stars
Drink their effulgence!
In the wild ravines
And gorges deep, the limpid babbling creeks
Sang matins as they left their mother hills
To mingle in united waters, where
They lost their little selves, and merged in one
Pellucid flood that gathered stronger life
From day to day! as God's great human church,
Now building on the earth shall gather all
The little sects and creeds and small beliefs
That split mankind into a thousand parts,
And merge them in one universal flood
Of boundless charity.
The dazzling points
Of morning's lances pierced the bursting hearts
Of all the flow'rets on the fertile slopes,
And waked red Kawhai's drops from sleep
And shook the dew buds from the Rata's lids,
Until its blossoms opened up their breasts
And gave their fragrance to the early breeze
That played amongst the Koromiko's leaves,
And stole the rich Tawhiri's sweet perfume,
And strung the flax-leaves into merry tune
To woo the Bell-bird from his nest, to ring
The Tui up to sing his morning hymns.
The scene was made for man, not savage man,
The cunningest of brutes, the crafty king
Of beasts! but Man the Spiritualised,
With all the light of knowledge in his brain,
With all the light of love within his heart!
And yet they were but savages who stood
On Moeatoa's hill, above the scene,
Mere savages, a step beyond the brute!
But still there were bright sparks of God-lit fire
Within their breasts! they loved their native vales
With heart and soul! for they had hearts and souls
Far nobler than some milk-faced races who
Have basked 'neath Calv'ry's sun for ages long,
And yet lie grov'lling in the nations' rear,
With hearts encased in earth too coarse and hard
For Calv'ry's glorious light to penetrate.
Poor savages! that Orient had not yet
Shed its benignant rays upon their souls,
To melt the dross that dragged them down to earth
In carnal bonds! they knew not yet the road
To reach the standard of their better selves.
Yet they were men in all save this! brave men
With patriots' hearts, for as they stood and gazed
O'er fair Kawhia's hills and vales
That stretched into the sea, o'er which their sires
In ages past sailed from Hawaiki's shores,
The tears ran down their tattooed cheeks, and sobs
Welled from their bosoms, for they loved the land
With all the love intense a Maori feels
For childhood's home! The hist'ry of their tribe
Was written there on every rock and hill
That sentinelled the scene, for these had known
Their deeds of prowess, and their fathers' deeds
Of valour! And the caverns held the bones
Of those from whom they'd sprung! Their legends wild,
And weird traditions, chained them to the place,
And ere they burst those links of love they gave
A long sad look on each familiar spot
And wailed above Kawhia's lovely vale:
Oh! Kawhia, remain,
Cavern, gorge, and bay,
Valley, and hill, and plain--
We are going away.
Oh! Kawhia, remain,
Take our tears and our sighs;
Spirits of heroes slain,
Rise up from Reinga, rise.
Oh! Kawhia, remain,
With thee, Tawhaki, stay;
Long may he o'er thee reign--
We are going away."
The first stage of the journey ended with the close of the fourth day,
when the _pa_ of Puohoki was reached; and here Te Rauparaha
decided to leave his wife Akau[51] and a number of the women and
children under a suitable guard, while he and the bulk of the people
pushed on as far as Waitara. Here they were received by the Ngati-Tama
and Ngati-Awa tribes, in whose _pas_ they were quartered for the
season; and, except that a spirit of parsimony seemed to pervade their
welcome, they had every reason to feel rejoiced at the success which
up to this moment had attended their venture.[52] After the lapse of a
brief period spent in perfecting his arrangements, Te Rauparaha
decided to return for his wife and her companions, and on reaching the
_pa_ where they were staying he learned to his great joy that
Akau had borne him a son. This infant lived to be the well-known
missionary chief, Tamihana te Rauparaha. Against the advice of his
tribe, Rauparaha had only taken a band of twenty warriors with him,
and on the journey back to Waitara his strategic abilities were tested
to the full to escape annihilation. Three days after his arrival he
left on his return journey, carrying his infant son in a basket on his
back. Knowing that he had left Kawhia, a party of the restless
Ngati-Mania-poto had crept down the coast in the hope of finding some
stragglers of his party whom they might conveniently kill. But instead
of meeting, as they had expected, a few irregulars, they came suddenly
upon Te Rauparaha himself near the mouth of the Awakino River. To some
extent the surprise was mutual, but the stress of the position was all
against Te Rauparaha. Supported only by a limited force and hampered
by the women and children, he was in serious difficulties, as the
enemy might cut off his retreat and then attack him in force. Suddenly
a brilliant idea struck him. Before the enemy approached within
striking distance he ordered twenty of the most active women to
disrobe and don the mats and headgear of fighting men. Then arming
each of them with a stone club, he placed them under the charge of
Akau, who was a woman of magnificent physique, with instructions to
march in the van brandishing their weapons after the manner of veteran
warriors. The more helpless women and children were placed in the
centre, while he and his fighting men covered the retreat. Misled by
the stratagem, the Ngati-Mania-poto were tricked into the belief that
the Ngati-Toa force was much stronger than it really was, and instead
of attacking they began to retire. Observing this, Te Rauparaha
immediately accelerated their panic by charging down upon them, and in
the skirmish which followed Tutakara, their chief, was killed by Te
Rangi-hounga-riri, Te Rauparaha's eldest son by his child-wife Marore,
who was rapidly making a name for himself as an intrepid warrior. But,
although the position was somewhat relieved, Te Rauparaha felt that
the danger was not yet at an end. He was experienced enough in native
tactics to know that the Ngati-Mania-poto would be tempted to return
at nightfall and renew the attack in the hope of avenging the death of
their chief. He therefore could not consider himself safe until the
Mokau River was crossed, and, unfortunately, when he reached its banks
the tide was full and the river was in flood. Nothing remained to be
done except to wait, but in order still to maintain the deception
twelve large fires were kindled, at each of which three women and one
warrior were stationed, while the chief and the rest of his followers
lay prepared for emergencies. It was also an injunction to the
sentinels at the fires to address each other occasionally in the
heroic language of the time. "Be strong, O people, to fight on the
morrow if the enemy return. Take no thought of life. Consider the
valour of your tribe." These stimulating exhortations, which were
intended for the enemy's ears as much as for their own, were
supplemented by fervid speeches from the women, whose shrill voices
were carried out into the night air as a warning to the enemy that
they would not lag behind their lords in the coming battle.
Meantime, Te Rauparaha lay waiting for the enemy, who never came.
Either having no stomach for another encounter with so redoubtable a
warrior, or still not understanding the true position, they wisely
declined to provoke a battle, about the result of which they could be
by no means sanguine. At midnight the tide turned, and the river fell
sufficiently to be fordable.[53] Leaving their fires burning, the
Ngati-Toa crept silently down to the bank, and, wading across, made
their way to the _pas_ of their friends, which they reached
amidst general rejoicing. Early next morning the scene of the previous
day's battle was revisited and the bodies of the slain enemy
recovered to make a feast, at which the sweet revenge harboured
against Ngati-Mania-poto was surfeited.
While the Ngati-Toa plans were developing in Taranaki, another
misfortune was falling upon the people of the southern districts from
the opposite direction. Towards the middle of 1820 a band of six
hundred warriors, under Apihai Te Kawau, of Ngati-Whatua, Te Kanawa,
and Tu-korehu, of Waikato and Ngati-Mania-poto, and other prominent
chiefs, longing for some new excitement, had journeyed down the east
coast through Hawke's Bay and the Wairarapa, for no particular purpose
except to kill, eat, or make slaves of whoever might fall into their
hands. In the course of this pilgrimage of blood they crossed over to
the west, and there attacked in succession the Muaupoko, Rangitane,
and Ngati-Apa tribes, upon whom they inflicted sore and mortal wounds;
and when they retired back to the north they left the conquest of
Kapiti a matter of comparative simplicity to Te Rauparaha. But they
were soon themselves to feel the sting of defeat. Passing into the
Taranaki country on their homeward march, they were set upon by the
Ngati-Awa people, who strenuously opposed their further progress at
Waitara. This was a strange reversal of all previous policy on the
part of Ngati-Awa, who had always been friendly to, and had frequently
co-operated with, the Ngati-Mania-poto and Waikato peoples on similar
raids. By some authorities this new antagonism has been attributed to
the sinister influence of Te Rauparaha, who was still at Ure-nui
waiting to harvest his crops. He had not forgotten the anxious moments
to which he had been subjected on the banks of the Waitara River, and
it would have been more than human on his part had he not sought to
balance accounts now that the opportunity offered. "By means of
plotting and deceit," says one writer, "he succeeded in rousing
Ngati-Awa--or the greater part of them--to take up his quarrel."
Whatever the cause of Ngati-Awa's hostility, the effect was a series
of determined and well-organised attacks upon the northern _taua_,
which ultimately drove them to seek refuge with a friendly section of
the Ngati-Awa in the famous Puke-rangiora _pa_. Here they were
besieged for seven months, fighting repeatedly, and, towards the end
of that period, suffering intense privations. Frequent attempts were
made to send intelligence of their straits through the enemy's ranks
to their friends; but so close and vigilant was the investment that
their messengers were invariably captured, and their heads fixed upon
poles and exhibited to the besieged in a spirit of exultant derision.
One, Rahiora, a young man of the Ngati-Mahanga tribe, did at length
succeed in evading detection, and travelling into the Waikato by
Kete-marae and Whanganui, thence by Taupo and Waipa, was able to
communicate to the great Te Wherowhero the critical plight of his
tribesmen. Te Wherowhero immediately made his call to arms, and soon a
numerous relief party was on its way to join the force already in the
field, which had vainly endeavoured to cut off Te Rauparaha at the
Mokau. The junction of these forces was successfully accomplished, and
the pride of Waikato's military strength, under two of the greatest
chiefs of that time, Te Wherowhero and Te Waharoa, marched southward
for the dual purpose of raising the siege of Puke-rangiora and of
attacking Te Rauparaha. Though they failed to reach within striking
distance of the beleaguered _pa_, their movement indirectly achieved
its object, for the advent of so large a force lightened the pressure
of the siege by drawing off a considerable number of the besiegers. Of
these Te Rauparaha took command, and to his strategical genius was due
the victory which he ultimately achieved on the plain of Motu-nui.
This plain stretches along the sea-coast between the Ure-nui and Mimi
Rivers. At this point the shore is bounded by perpendicular cliffs,
fully one hundred and fifty feet high, along which are dotted several
small _pas_, used as fishing-places in olden times. Away to the
eastward of the plain run the wooded hills, on the steep sides of
which rise the numerous streams which rush across the plain to the
sea. On the southern end of one of the spurs descending from the
range was built the strongly fortified Okoki _pa_, which was made the
point of assembly by the Ngati-Awa and Ngati-Toa warriors.
The Waikato _taua_ came on as far as a place called Waitoetoe on
the southern bank of the Mimi River, and there commenced to make a
camp preparatory to throwing down the gage of battle. To the watchers
in the Okoki _pa_ their fires had been visible for several miles;
and when it was seen that they had determined to pitch camp, there was
a general request that their position should be at once attacked.
Personally, Te Rauparaha preferred to take no risks until the portion
of his force which was still holding Tu-korehu in check at
Puke-rangiora should have come up. He, however, yielded to the
importunities of some of his chiefs, and consented to send out a
_hunuhunu_, or reconnoitring party, to test the mettle of the
enemy. To meet the possibility of the skirmish developing into a more
serious encounter, he took the precaution of concealing a strong
reserve force, composed of the older men, in the bed of one of the
wooded streams which ran close beneath the _pa_. Having
instructed Rangiwahia, of Ngati-Mutunga, in whose charge he left these
supports, he took eighty of the younger men with him, and advanced
across the plain by stealthy marches. So secretly was the movement
effected, that they were within a stone's-throw of the Waikato camp,
and had actually commenced the attack upon some of the Waikato
warriors, before their presence was discerned. In the first onset Te
Rauparaha's followers were roughly handled, and, in accordance with
their preconcerted plan, they began rapidly to fall back, sustaining
severe losses the while from the guns of the enemy. Their retirement
soon developed into a general retreat, which might have been much more
disastrous but for a fatal division of opinion which sprang up amongst
the Waikato leaders, as to whether or not the fugitives should be
pursued. Te Wherowhero was content to have repulsed them, and advised
resuming the interrupted work of building their shelters; but others,
not so cautious, urged immediate pursuit, and, these counsels
prevailing, the whole Waikato force was soon in full cry after the
retreating scouts. The chase was fierce and stern, and many a good
Taranaki warrior dropped upon the plain as he sped towards the _pa_,
for the pursuers kept up as hot a fire as their rapid movements
rendered possible. Seeing the men falling round him, a chief who was
running close to Te Rauparaha repeatedly urged him to turn and attack
the pursuers; but the crafty general, knowing that the time was not
yet, declined to forestall his prearranged strategy. He held on his
way, only urging his men to faster flight, while Te Wherowhero incited
his marksmen to single out the Ngati-Awa chiefs for death. Some two
miles of the plain had been covered, and the southern warriors were
nearing their supports. As the foremost reached the wooded gully, they
waited there to recover their breath, and allowed the pursuers to
close in upon them. Weary and blown with their long and exciting run,
the Waikatos came straggling up, innocent of the trap into which they
had fallen. At the psychological moment Te Rauparaha gave the signal,
and out dashed his veterans, fresh and eager for the fray, charging
down upon the exhausted and astonished Waikatos. Their chiefs who were
in the forefront of the chase were the first to go down, and their
numbers were perceptibly diminished as they were beaten back by
repeated charges across the blood-stained field. Te Wherowhero fought
through the reverse with supreme courage, engaging and vanquishing in
single combat no less than five of Taranaki's greatest warriors; and
to his fine defence and heroic example is attributed the fact that his
tribe was not completely annihilated on the field of Motu-nui. On the
other hand, it has been whispered that his companion in arms, Te
Waharoa, did not bear himself in this fight with his wonted gallantry.
Waikato paid a heavy toll that day. They left one hundred and fifty
men dead on the field, and the slaughter of chiefs was a conspicuous
tribute to their bravery--Te Wherowhero and Te Waharoa being the only
leaders of eminence to escape.
For some inexplicable reason, Te Rauparaha did not pursue his victory
to the bitter end, as was his wont.[54] This forbearance on his part
is especially surprising in view of the fact that Te Wherowhero had
specifically promised to remain neutral during the progress of the
migration. Possibly the consciousness that he would have done the same
thing himself induced him to take a lenient view of his old
antagonist's want of good faith; for there can be no doubt that the
bloody wars which were at this time ravaging the country had
completely sapped the old Maori sense of honour. "At the period in
question, more perhaps than at any other in the history of the race,
moral considerations had but little weight in determining the conduct
of either the individual or the tribe. Even the nearest relatives did
not hesitate to destroy and devour each other." There was thus nothing
unusual about Te Wherowhero's conduct; but his experience of Te
Rauparaha on this occasion was such that from that day onward he left
him severely alone.
The effect of these successive victories was to enhance enormously the
prestige and power of Te Rauparaha. He began to be regarded with
reverence by Ngati-Awa and with something akin to worship by
Ngati-Toa. As a tangible proof of the gratitude which his hosts felt
for the services which he had rendered them, food, which had been
grudgingly supplied up to this time, was now given in abundance to his
people, and, what was of even greater moment to Te Rauparaha,
adherents began freely to flock to his cause. But, although he had
beaten off both the Ngati-Mania-poto and Waikato tribes, the position
was still unsatisfactory to him from the point of view of numbers, and
so he resolved to make one more effort to persuade Ngati-Raukawa to
join him. Accordingly he journeyed back to Opepe, a village on the
shores of Lake Taupo, where he met young Te Whatanui, a chief destined
to become famous in after years as the protector of the Muaupoko
people whom Te Rauparaha wished to destroy. Upon the assembled tribe,
and upon Te Whatanui in particular, he again impressed the merits of
his scheme, pointing out the altered position occupied by the tribes
who had managed to become possessed of fire-arms, as compared with
those who had only wooden spears and stone _meres_. He dwelt upon the
fact that ships were beginning to frequent Kapiti, and that there they
could obtain guns, as Nga-Puhi had done at the Bay of Islands. He also
reiterated all that he had formerly told them about the fertility of
the soil and the ease with which the country might be conquered: but
in vain. Te Whatanui volunteered no sign of approval. He gave many
presents to Te Rauparaha, as marks of respect from one warrior to
another. He also made him a long oration, skilfully avoiding the
all-important topic upon which Te Rauparaha had travelled so far to
consult him; nor did the majority of his people conceal their
objection to coming under Te Rauparaha's immediate command, to the
exclusion of their own chiefs. Angered at this perversity, Te
Rauparaha shook the dust of Opepe from off his feet and proceeded to
Rotorua, and as far as Tauranga, where he sought the aid of the great
Te Waru. But he met with no success, for Te Waru had schemes of his
own which claimed his personal attention. While resting with the
Tu-hou-rangi branch of the Arawa tribe on his return to Rotorua from
Tauranga, Te Rauparaha (according to accounts) perpetrated an outrage
upon Nga-Puhi which was destined to inspire one of the most disastrous
wars and one of the most daring assaults known in Maori history. His
motive for "sowing the seeds of evil counsel" is not clear. By some it
is alleged a jealous envy of Nga-Puhi's success in procuring arms,
while others find it in the consuming desire for revenge for the death
of a young relative killed a few weeks before at the fall of the Te
Totara _pa_ at the Thames. Whatever the motive, before leaving he took
occasion to recite a _karakia_, or song, informing the Tu-hou-rangi
that there was a small band of Nga-Puhi travelling about in their
vicinity, and broadly insinuating that "death and darkness were very
good things." This hint, however enigmatical, was taken and acted
upon. When Te Pae-o-te-rangi, Hongi's nephew, and a company of his
Nga-Puhi followers arrived at the Motu-tawa _pa_, from which Te
Rauparaha had just departed, they were treacherously set upon and
killed by the Tu-hou-rangi people. It was to avenge the death of Te
Pae-o-te-rangi that Hongi performed the Herculean task of dragging his
canoes from Waihi, near Maketu, to Lake Rotorua, and on the island of
Mokoia slaughtered the unfortunate Ngati-Whakaue (Arawas), who had
been entirely innocent of the original crime.
Before quitting Rotorua, however, Te Rauparaha had the good fortune to
fall in with the Nga-Puhi chief Pomare,[55] who handed over to him a
few of the men who had accompanied him to the Lake district on a mission
of bloodshed. With this small reinforcement Te Rauparaha returned to
Taranaki and prepared to resume his journey southward, having in the
meantime enlisted the services of some four hundred Ngati-Awas under
one of the most famous men of his time, Rere-ta-whangawhanga, father of
Wi Kingi Rangitake.[56] The force at Te Rauparaha's command now
numbered about eight hundred fighting men and their families. With
these he resumed his march in the autumn of 1822, when the kumara had
been gathered in, and advanced without interruption or mishap until he
reached Patea. Here a slight skirmish took place, and six of the
invaders were killed, their deaths being immediately avenged by the
slaughter of some Waitotara people. From them a large canoe was
captured, and was employed in the transportation of some of the women
and children by sea, thus saving them the labour and fatigue involved
in the land journey. Te Rauparaha himself also travelled by water with
the women, but, with the exception of those required to propel the
canoes, the men continued on foot along the coast, capturing and
killing an occasional straggler who had lingered too long in the
vicinity of the warpath.
At the mouth of the Rangitikei River the canoe was drawn up on the
beach, and the whole party halted for several days. Hearing of their
arrival, the friends of Pikinga came down to the camp to welcome her,
but the remainder of the Ngati-Apa tribe fled to the hills and
concealed themselves amongst the mountain fastnesses. It would
therefore appear that the friendship which they afterwards alleged to
have existed between Te Rauparaha and themselves was not of a very
substantial character.[57] Nor did the marriage of their chieftainess
with Te Rangihaeata avail them much; for while the bulk of his people
rested by the river, odd bands of their fighting men were continually
scouring the country in search of some plump Ngati-Apa who was needed
to keep the ovens fully employed. While the weather continued fine, Te
Rauparaha was anxious to lose no more time than was absolutely
necessary. So soon, therefore, as his people had been refreshed by the
rest, he pushed on again, making his next stage the mouth of the
Manawatu River, where he harassed the Rangitane people by the inroads
of armed parties on their settlements. But comparatively few captures
were made, as the _pas_ were deserted immediately the inhabitants
scented the danger.
The migration which Te Rauparaha was thus conducting had for its
objective a sweet and fertile spot on the banks of the Ohau stream;
and when the remaining portion of the coast had been traversed without
opposition, and the tribe had reached its journey's end in safety,
preparations were at once made to establish them permanently on the
land. A _pa_ was built large enough to accommodate the whole
party, and ground was cleared for cultivations, in which the potato
was planted for the first time on this coast. Their nearest neighbours
were the Ngati-Apa, who held possession of the island of Kapiti, and
the Muaupoko tribe, who were settled round the shores of Lakes
Horowhenua and Papaitonga. In what light the former regarded the
aggression upon their borders it is difficult to say; but the latter
were evidently very ill at ease, for they had a heavy presentiment of
what the ultimate result would be. But how to avert the danger was no
simple problem, as they had learned enough in the stern school of
experience to recognise that victory in open battle was not to be
hoped for. Strategy was therefore determined upon. Learning from two
Whanganui chiefs, who were then on a visit to Horowhenua, that Te
Rauparaha's vulnerable point at this period was his desire to obtain
canoes, they resolved to tempt him with the bait to which he was most
likely to fall a victim. The ease with which the chief fell into the
trap was due to his excessive ambition and the further large schemes
towards which his aspirations soared.
He had heard strange stories of a treasure-trove of greenstone which
the Ngai-Tahu people had stored in their _pas_ over on the Middle
Island; and as he stood on the beach at Ohau and looked across the
Strait towards the hills of Waipounamu, he dreamed of this wealth and
how he could possess himself of it. Without a fleet of canoes to
convey his warriors over the intervening sea, the project of invasion
was visionary; but even with the frailest vessels he might make it a
reality, and at one bold stroke add to his dominions, gratify his
avarice, and satiate his hate by waging war upon the southern tribes.
Of canoes the Muaupoko had many. Residing as they did upon the shores
of two lakes, these vessels were almost as essential to them as
gondolas to the Venetians; and when they learned of Te Rauparaha's
eagerness to obtain what they possessed, a device was cautiously
planned by which they might rid themselves of a neighbour whose coming
they felt boded them no good. Into this conspiracy of murder the
Rangitane people of Manawatu were admitted; and for thus allowing
themselves to be made the cat's-paw of others they paid a bitter
penalty, for they succeeded in nothing except in arousing the eternal
hatred of the great chief, who seemed invulnerable alike to their
cunning and their force. The authors of the scheme were Turoa and
Paetahi, both of the Ngati-Apa tribe; and the willing instrument in
their hands was Toheriri, a leader of the Muaupoko, whose part was,
shortly after the arrival of the Ngati-Toa at Ohau, to send an
invitation to Te Rauparaha and a number of his followers to pay a
friendly visit to his _pa_ at Papaitonga. As already indicated,
the inducement held out to Ngati-Toa was the promise of a gift of
canoes, and, under the circumstances, a more artful pretence could not
have been conceived. "Canoes were at this time his great desire, for
by them only could he cross over to the island of Waipounamu," is the
explanation of the position given by Tamihana Te Rauparaha; and, if
the Muaupoko could gratify that desire, Te Rauparaha was not the man
to refrain from making a convenience of his enemies, as well as of
his friends. Accordingly he accepted the invitation, notwithstanding
the earnest remonstrances of his nephew and lieutenant, Te
Rangihaeata, who declared his irresistible conviction that murder,
rather than hospitality, was the secret of the Muaupoko invitation.
Rauparaha was in no mood to speculate about omens, good or evil.
Canoes he wanted, and canoes he would have, even if the gods or the
devils were against him. His unusual recklessness even carried him so
far that he selected only a few warriors to accompany him, and with
these he arrived, just at the fall of evening, at Papaitonga. The
party was, of course, received with the most profuse expressions of
friendship. Toheriri and his fellow-chief Waraki conducted their
visitors in state to view the canoes which were to be handed over in
the morning; but, on returning to the _pa_, they were careful to
conduct Te Rauparaha to a house at one end of the settlement, while
his followers were provided for at the opposite end. This fact appears
to have aroused no suspicion in the Ngati-Toa mind; for at night all
slept soundly, until the shouts of the combined Rangitane and Muaupoko
war parties were heard in the early morning as they rushed upon the
slumbering _pa_.
The assailants appear to have been too precipitate in their onset.
Instead of first surrounding the _whare_ in which Te Rauparaha
lay, they commenced the massacre of his followers at the other end;
and Toheriri, who was lightly sleeping in the same compartment as Te
Rauparaha, was compelled to go out and direct them to the particular
hut in which their common foe was lying. This delay was fatal to their
design, but fortunate for Te Rauparaha. In the absence of his host, he
stayed not to take his leave, but bursting through the _raupo_
wall which formed the end of the _whare_, he slipped away between
the houses; and when the tardy Rangitane rushed up to the hut, their
prey had flown, and nothing remained but to wreak their vengeance upon
the less distinguished victims, whom they slaughtered without mercy.
Included amongst these victims of treacherous onslaught were several
of Te Rauparaha's wives and children. Of the latter, however, two were
spared, Te Uira and Hononga, the former of whom was a daughter of his
child-wife Marore. The reason for this partial clemency is not clear;
apparently vengeance was satisfied by sending them prisoners to the
Wairarapa, where they afterwards became wives of men of renown in the
district.[58]
Amidst the chaos of treachery which surrounds this incident, it is
pleasant to record an act of chivalry of an heroic type. Amongst those
who accompanied Te Rauparaha on this eventful visit was his son,
Rangi-hounga-riri, who, it will be remembered, had distinguished
himself by slaying Tutakara, the chief of the Ngati-Mania-poto, when
that tribe attacked Ngati-Toa at the Awakino River. He, being strong
of body and lithe of limb, had managed to break through the attacking
cordon, and, had he chosen, might have made his escape. But, as he
hurried away, his ear caught the sound of a girl's piteous crying for
help. He recognised the voice as that of his sister, Uira. Heedless of
consequences he rushed back to the _pa_, and, forcing his way to
the side of the girl, placed his protecting arm around her, and fought
her assailants until overpowered by superior numbers. By his death, Te
Rauparaha lost one of his most intrepid lieutenants, and the Ngati-Toa
tribe one of its most promising leaders. As chivalrous as he was
brave, he was the type of chief whose nobility lifted the ancient
Maori above the level of the mere savage, and illustrated the manly
qualities which so impressed those early colonists who took the
trouble to understand the people amongst whom they had come. The
qualities are still there, and justify the hope that, by sound laws,
and sanitary and educational reforms, such as are now being effected,
it may yet be possible to stay the process of degeneration which set
in as the result of the first contact of the Maori with the European.
Te Rauparaha, having slipped from the snare of his enemies, plunged
into the long grass which surrounded the _pa_, and, in the
semi-darkness, succeeded in eluding his pursuers, eventually reaching
his settlement at Ohau, weary, angry, and almost naked. Bitterly
disappointed at the result of his mission, and deeply enraged at the
treatment he had received, he in his wrath cursed the Rangitane and
Muaupoko peoples, and, calling his tribe around him, he charged his
followers to make it the one special mission of their lives "to kill
them from the dawn of day till the evening." This doctrine of
extermination was not preached to unwilling ears; and from that day
the fixed policy of the Ngati-Toa tribe was to sweep the Muaupoko and
Rangitane from their ancestral lands. In the reprisals which followed
as the result of Rauparaha's vow of eternal vengeance, the former tribe
seems to have suffered most; and there is little room for doubt that
they would have been ultimately uprooted and effaced from amongst the
tribes of New Zealand, but for the kindly offices of that dark-skinned
humanitarian, Te Whatanui, who, years afterwards, took them under his
protecting mantle, and declared, in the now historic phrase, that
"nothing would reach them but the rain from heaven."
The Rangitane people were more fortunately situated, having the
impassable forests of the Manawatu and its inaccessible mountain
fastnesses to protect them. But they by no means escaped the
bitterness of persecution, as bands of Ngati-Toa were constantly
roaming their country in search of some one to kill and devour. The
constant absence of these parties convinced Rauparaha that the small
band of men whom he had with him was by no means sufficient for the
magnitude of the task which his ambitious mind had conceived, and so
he determined upon doing two things. The first was to strengthen his
position by conquering the island of Kapiti, which was still in the
possession of a section of the Ngati-Apa people; the second, once
again to despatch ambassadors to the north, to persuade some of his
former allies to join him in mastering a district which promised a
rich supply of guns and ammunition. As a preliminary to the former
scheme, he extended his frontier as far as Otaki, from which point he
could the better watch the movements of the islanders and sweep down
upon them at a favourable moment. But the intervals in which there was
lack of vigilance were few and far between, and consequently the first
series of attacks failed signally. The defenders were strongly posted
and incessantly watchful; so Rauparaha, seeing that the frontal
attack, however well delivered, would not avail, decided upon a
stratagem which, judged by its success, must have been admirably
planned.
His device was to lull the defenders of the island into a false sense
of security by apparently withdrawing all his forces from Otaki for
the purpose of some larger movement in the north, at the same time
leaving a small band of well-tried men, whose duty it was to make a
dash for the island and seize it before its inhabitants had recovered
from their surprise. He accordingly marshalled his forces one morning,
and, with an amount of ostentatious display which was calculated to
attract the attention of the Ngati-Apa spies, he marched away to the
Manawatu at the head of his warriors. The Ngati-Apa saw this movement,
but did not understand it. Believing that the absence of Te Rauparaha
meant a period of respite, they withdrew their sentries and gave
themselves up to rejoicing. This was precisely what the Ngati-Toa
chief had hoped for and calculated upon. He also had the satisfaction
of knowing that the most critical part of his scheme was in safe
hands. His uncle, Te Pehi Kupe, who was left in charge of the attacking
party, was a tried and grim veteran, and, true to the trust imposed
upon him, he came out of his concealment just before dawn on the
morning after Te Rauparaha had left. Silently the intrepid little band
launched their canoes, and as silently they paddled across the
intervening water, reaching the island at the break of day. They found
the inhabitants still sleeping, and unconscious of any danger until
the shouts of their assailants and the cries of the wounded warned
them that some desperate work was on hand. Not many of them stayed to
fight, and those who were not killed in the first onslaught scrambled
into their canoes and made for the mainland, thus ingloriously leaving
the last independent stronghold of the Ngati-Apa in the hands of the
invaders.
It has been charged to the discredit of Te Rauparaha, that, in
planning this attack upon Kapiti, he cherished a guilty hope that Te
Pehi might fall in the assault, and by his death rid him of a powerful
rival in the councils of the tribe. But, while his critics have never
been slow to attribute to him the grossest treachery towards his
enemies and infidelity to his friends, there is absolutely no evidence
that on this occasion he meditated a crime, such as sacred history
imputes to the King of Israel when he placed Uriah the Hittite in the
forefront of the battle. Te Pehi was a great chief. He was Te
Rauparaha's senior in years and his superior in birth. His prowess in
battle was known far and wide, and the circumstances under which he
afterwards emulated the example of Hongi by visiting England, and like
him, subsequently procuring for his tribe, guns and ammunition at
Sydney, stamp him as a man of strong initiative and individuality. But
he did not possess the political genius with which his nephew was
endowed; he lacked the organising power, the tact, and the gift of
inspiring others with his own enthusiasm. While Te Pehi might lead a
charge with brilliancy, Te Rauparaha could often gain more by
diplomacy than he by force of arms; and these statesmanlike qualities
gave the younger chief an influence with the tribe which Te Pehi did
not and never could possess. Indeed, the tragedy associated with his
death at Kaiapoi, in 1828, is sufficient to convince us that he was
strangely lacking in conciliation and tact. So far as can be learned,
there is nothing to lead us to suppose that Te Pehi ever questioned
his nephew's superiority in the diplomatic department of his tribal
office; on the contrary, he seems to have cheerfully accepted a
secondary position, and loyally aided Te Rauparaha in all his
projects. Under these circumstances, it is somewhat difficult to
imagine what Te Rauparaha was to gain by sacrificing so brave an ally.
Moreover, the intense grief which he manifested when Te Pehi was
killed at Kaiapoi, and the signal vengeance which he took upon the
Ngai-Tahu tribe for their act of treachery, render the suspicion of
foul play on his part utterly improbable. In view of these
considerations he may fairly be exonerated from any criminal intent
towards Te Pehi. It is clear that the seizure of Kapiti was but an
essential move in his policy of conquest, and that the manner of its
seizure was but a cleverly designed piece of strategy, certainly not
unattended by risk, but affording very reasonable chances of success.
The capture of this natural fortress did not result in its immediate
occupation, for Te Rauparaha still had abundance of work to do on the
mainland before he could regard the power of the enemy as broken and
the conquest of his new home complete. In pursuance of his policy of
extermination, he had been interspersing his larger movements with
repeated raids upon Rangitane and Muaupoko, in which he invariably
made them feel the sting of his revenge. Finding that these attacks
were becoming more frequent and more vigorous, the chiefs of the
latter tribe conceived a plan by which they hoped to elude the
persistency of their implacable pursuers. Hitherto their _pas_
had been built on the shores of the picturesque lakes, around which
they had lived since their advent into the district, centuries before.
But they now decided to abandon these strongholds, which were exposed
to every raid of the enemy, and build their dwellings in the centre of
Lakes Horowhenua and Papaitonga. At the cost of an amazing amount of
industry and toil, they constructed artificial islands upon the beds
of these lakes at their deepest parts, and upon these mounds they
built a miniature Maori Venice. The construction of these islands was
most ingenious, and desperate indeed must have been the straits to
which Muaupoko were driven before they imposed upon themselves so
laborious a task.
Proceeding to the bush, their first operation was to cut down a number
of saplings, which were pointed and then driven into the soft mud,
closely enclosing in rectangular form sufficient space on which to
place the foundations of the houses. Smaller stakes were then driven
into the centre of the enclosure, upon which were spitted those
compact masses of vegetation known as "Maori-heads." A layer of these
gave the builders a solid basis upon which to work, and huge stones,
earth, and gravel were brought in the canoes from the shore, and
poured into the enclosures until the pile of _débris_ rose some
height above the level of the water. Six such islands were formed on
Lake Horowhenua and two on Papaitonga, and on these _whares_ were
erected, which were gradually extended by the addition of platforms
reaching a considerable distance beyond the islands. Round each of
these platforms ran a stout palisade, which served the dual purpose of
preventing the very young children from falling into the water and
offering a formidable barrier to the assaults of the enemy. As the
only means of communication with these islands was by canoe, and as it
was well known to the Muaupoko people that Te Rauparaha had few such
vessels, they felt comparatively secure from attack so soon as they
had transferred themselves to their new retreat.
But they little reckoned on the kind of man with whom they had to
deal, when they imagined that a placid sheet of water could interpose
between Te Rauparaha and his enemies. Canoes he had not, but strong
swimmers he had; and it is a fine tribute to their daring that, on a
dark and gloomy night, a small band of these undertook to swim off to
one of the Horowhenua _pas_ and attack its sleeping inhabitants.
With their weapons lashed to their wrists, they silently entered the
water, and by swift side strokes reached the walls of Waipata, the
_pa_ which they had chosen for their attempt, and were swarming over
the palisades before a note of warning could be sounded. Taken at such
a disadvantage, it was not to be expected that the Muaupoko resistance
would be effective, for they were both stunned by surprise and
paralysed by fear at the awful suddenness of the attack. Flight was
their first thought, and such as were not slain in their sleep or
caught in their attempt to escape, plunged into the lake and made for
the nearest shelter. In this endeavour to escape death all were not
successful, and it is estimated that, between the killed and drowned,
the attack upon Waipata cost the Muaupoko several hundred lives,
besides adding to their misfortune by shattering utterly their belief
in the inaccessibility of their island _pas_. The adjoining _pas_ upon
the lake, warned of the impending danger by the tumult at Waipata, at
once prepared for a stubborn defence; but the attacking party, feeling
themselves unequal to the task of a second assault, discreetly
withdrew to the mainland before it was yet daylight, and at once made
preparations for another attack upon a more extensive scale. But both
prudence and necessity dictated the wisdom of delay; it was wiser to
wait until Muaupoko had relapsed into their former state of
confidence, and, moreover, the plan upon which it was proposed to make
the attack required time for its development.
Recognising the strength of the Waikiekie _pa_, against which the
energies of his tribe were next to be directed, Te Rauparaha saw that
success was not to be expected unless he could attack it in force.
This involved the transportation of a large body of men over the
waters of the lake, which could only be effected by means of canoes.
These he did not possess in numbers, and, even if he had, he must
still devise means of conveying them to the lake, which was several
miles from the coast. His ingenious mind, however, soon discovered an
escape from these perplexities, and he at once decided upon a plan,
which was not without precedent in European warfare or imitation in
subsequent Maori history. His scheme involved the haulage of his
canoes over the belt of land which separated the lake from the sea,
and the enterprise seems to have been as cleverly executed as it was
daringly designed. Out of the lake runs an insignificant stream, which
slowly meanders over shallows and between narrow banks down to the
ocean; and to the mouth of this creek were brought such canoes as had
fallen into Te Rauparaha's hands at the taking of Kapiti, and a larger
one which had been procured from his friends at Whanganui-a-Tara.[59]
Where the water was deep enough, or the reaches straight enough, the
canoes were floated up the bed of the stream; but as this was possible
only at rare intervals, the greater part of the distance was covered
by dragging the vessels over the grassy flats and ferny undulations.
Such a task would be laborious enough under any circumstances; but on
this occasion it was rendered even more wearisome by the necessity for
conducting it in absolute silence. As the success of the expedition
depended mainly upon the completeness of the surprise, it was
essential that no note of warning should be given, and therefore it
was impossible to encourage the workers to greater exertions by song
or speech; but so heartily did they bend themselves to their
monotonous task, that the three miles of toilsome road were traversed
before the break of day.
The outflow of the lake was hidden by a clump of trees which grew
close to the water's edge, and behind this natural screen the canoes
were concealed, and the men lay down to rest until the moment came to
strike. At the first appearance of dawn, the canoes were shot into the
lake, and before the inhabitants of Waikiekie had shaken slumber from
their eyes, the shaft was on its way that would send many of them to
their last long sleep. The _pa_ was attacked on every side, and
with a vigour which left little chance of escape. Such resistance as
was possible in such a situation was offered by the drowsy defenders.
But the mortal fear with which they had come to regard the Ngati-Toa,
together with the fury of the onslaught and the completeness of the
surprise, spread panic amongst them, and the resistance was soon left
to a desperate few. Their valiant efforts brought them nothing but the
glory which attends the death of the brave. They were quickly borne
down before the onrush of the assailants, whose shouts of triumph,
joined with the terrified cries of the fugitives, filled the morning
air. Large numbers, who looked to discretion rather than valour,
plunged into the lake, and by swimming, diving, and dodging, a few
managed to elude both capture and death. But many were slain as they
swam, and, while their bodies sank to the bottom, their blood mingled
with the waters of the lake, until it lay crimson beneath the rising
sun. Warriors and women, old men and children, to the number of two
hundred, we are told, perished on that fateful morning, which saw the
Muaupoko tribe driven from Horowhenua, and the epoch of their
greatness brought to a close. A mere remnant of the tribe escaped, and
made their way through the forests and mountain fastnesses towards the
south, where, within the space of another year, they were again
pursued, hunted, and slaughtered, with all the old relentless hatred
of their destroyer.
Having inflicted this crushing blow upon Muaupoko, and feeling
convinced that they could never again be a serious menace to
Ngati-Toa, the section of the Ngati-Awa tribe who, under
Rere-ta-whangawhanga and other chiefs, had accompanied Te Rauparaha
from Taranaki, now determined to return to their own country at
Waitara;[60] and it was this decision which made it imperative that
the Ngati-Toa leader should seek efficient aid from some other
quarter. He accordingly, without delay, despatched messengers to the
nor
Showing first 200,000 characters. Full text: gutenberg.org/ebooks/44726