PART III.
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PART III.
Early one bright New Zealand summer's morn--it was Christmas, 1835--a small band of men propelled their light canoe, cleaving the glassy bosom of Lake Rotorua. Presently they landed on its northern shore, whence they ascended to a village, near the margin of the forest that crowns the uplands on that side. As they approached, the head man of the kainga welcomed them; when the senior visitor, taking him by the hand, bent forward, and rubbed noses, according to Maori custom. While thus engaged receiving his guests, the head man was struck dead with a tomahawk blow, dealt by another visitor, at the back of his right ear. Who was the victim? and who those treacherous men? The former was Hunga, Te Waharoa's cousin, who then lived at Rotorua. The latter were Huka and his nephew, attended by a small following of six or eight sans culottes --Huka being then a second-rate chief of Ngatiwhakaue, who had always been on excellent terms with Hunga, even to the very moment when he murdered him.
And yet Huka had a very good Maori reason for committing this horrid deed, which we will endeavour to explain. He conceived himself
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injured and insulted, by his own chiefs and relations, in two things. First, in some matter having reference to a woman; and secondly, because, during a recent temporary absence, his interests had been utterly overlooked at the division of a large quantity of trade received from Tapsal, a Pakeha-Maori, at Maketu, in payment for flax the tribe had sold; which flax, accordingly to mercantile usages of that day, probably had yet to be delivered; and at the time when the trade was given, was most likely flourishing on its native stem. Huka made a journey to Maketu to see Tapsal, but found the pakeha inexorable; he had paid to the chiefs of the tribe all the trade agreed for, and he would pay no more. So Huka returned to Rotorua, saying in an ungracious spirit: "I can't kill all my relatives, but I can bring war upon them," which sure enough he did, by murdering Waharoa's cousin, precisely in the manner we have related. And thus originated Te Waharoa's great war with the Ngatiwhakaue, or Arawa tribe.
But now the admirer of that rude sense of justice, which dwells inherent in the savage breast, exclaims: Why did not the Ngatiwhakaues immediately do what they could to make the amende honorable to Waharoa? They might have sent off the heads of Huka and his nephew, with an apologetic message to the great chief, expressing unfeigned regret at the melancholy affair; and hoping the satisfaction of seeing for himself the condign punishment the
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criminals had received, would avert his just indignation; and trusting the amicable relations that had subsisted between their tribes during his time might still remain unchanged. We think no one would have been more amused at the novelty and simplicity of this proceeding than old Waharoa himself. Of course he, and perhaps his friends, Te Kanawa and Mokorou, chiefs of Ngatimaniapoto and Waikato, would miss the pleasure of discussing the ambassador's quality at breakfast next morning--as no native, other than a neutral one, would have been simpleton enough to place himself in such a position. No, the Ngatiwhakaue never thought of such a thing; their minds and actions ran in another groove, for by noon that Christmas day, they had cut up Hunga's body, and sent the quarters throughout the Arawa tribes, to signify the new state of public affairs. As for Huka, he walked a taller man; his spirited conduct had raised him in the eyes of men.
On receiving the news, Waharoa was so enraged that he sent Mr. Chapman--the Church missionary at Rotorua, who had buried Hunga's head--a message, through a neutral channel, that he would come and burn his house down. To Ngatiwhakaue he condescended not a word. They might remain ignorant where the blow should fall, while he actively prepared to deliver it.
Meantime the Ngaiterangi chiefs greatly feared that Waharoa, instead of taking the
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Patetere route, would pass through Tauranga, and drag them into a war they had no interest in. Their country would certainly he devastated sometimes, and if there were any gains, Te Waharoa would take them. In about ten weeks, when Waharoa had mustered his Ngatihaua, Ngatimaniapoto, and Waikato forces, to the number of 1,000 fighting men, under Te Kanawa, Mokorou, and himself, their fears were confirmed.
About this time, Waharoa sent to Nuka Taipari, chief of Maungatapu, requesting him to murder fourteen Tapuika friends who were visiting him, from the place now called Canaan --the Tapuika hapu being a section of the Arawas. Nuka replied to the effect that he did not exactly like to murder his guests, but Waharoa could do so by intercepting them on their road home, and that they would leave Maungatapu at such a time.
On the evening of the 24th March, 1836, just three months after Hunga's death, the advance guard of Waharoa's taua, 70 strong, under the fighting chief Pea, crossed the Tauranga harbour at Te Papa during twilight, and marching on took up their station across the Maketu road, between Maungamana and the coast line. The next day Nuka advised his friends to return home, as the news of Waharoa's approach rendered it unsafe for them to remain. On the same day they all fourteen fell into Pea's hands, by whom they were bound, until Waharoa's further pleasure
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should be known. The missionaries at Te Papa, Messrs. Wilson and Wade, spared no pains to save the lives of these unfortunate people. The former gentleman proceeded to Pea's camp, where he was assured all would be well with the Tapuikas, who were only detained to prevent their carrying intelligence to the enemy of the movements of Waharoa's taua; and, to convince the too sceptical pakeha, four or five natives impersonated the prisoners, saying they were of the number of captured Tapuikas, and earnestly desiring that the question of their safety might not be raised by the missionary. On the same night, Te Waharoa, with his taua, passed through the Papa station, and promised the missionaries to spare the lives of the captives.
The next morning--26th--Waharoa arrived at Maungamana, when the prisoners were quickly slain, and the taua halted, until noon the following day, to cook and eat their bodies. On the 27th, the missionaries went to Waharoa's camp; passing unnoticed along his grim columns, they found the chief seated apart on a sandhill, protected by a rude breakwind-- Mokorou was his companion; while at a respectful distance, sat a group of other chiefs. Waharoa saw them coming, and thinking, probably, the visit would prove unwelcome, gave orders to resume the march; meantime, the missionaries arrived, and spoke in very plain terms to him about his conduct. Mr. Wilson, as spokesman, upbraided him with the murder
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of his friend's guests, and reproached him with breaking his promise. "And now," he said, "you are going to Maketu; you are not ignorant of war; and you know you may never return. How, then, will you meet the God you have offended!" During the interview the old man's light sinewy frame and small expressive features had gradually manifested uneasiness; but to this point his usual mincing manner and taciturnity had been preserved. Now, however, when one whom he considered a Tohunga to the Pakeha's powerful Atua, seemed disposed to say that which was ominous, his superstitious dread of aituas (evil omens), and fear that his expedition should go forth under a cloud, impelled him to assume his other-self, and cry fiercely: "Stop, don't say that. If I am killed, what odds? and if I return, will it not be well? Leave that matter alone." By this time his taua was in motion--"marching," as Mr. Wilson says, "with an order and regularity I had little expected to see."
On the 29th March, 1836, Waharoa stormed and carried Maketu, garrisoned only by the Ngatipukenga hapu, numbering sixty fighting men, with their aged chief, Nainai, at their head. Also there was present in the pa, a fighting chief of Ngatiwhakaue, named Haupapa. All these were killed and eaten; and such of their wives and children as were with them either shared the same fate or were taken into slavery. Haupapa, mortally wounded, was taken into Tapsal's house, within the pa. The old sailor
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had a locker, and into it he thrust the chief for concealment; but ere the victorious party-entered the house, he died. Now his wife, Kata, a woman about twenty-six years of age, was sitting near him, and as soon as she perceived he was dead, she earnestly, but vainly, besought the pakeha to cut off his head, that she might hide it from his enemies. Just then Muripara, a chief, and foremost man of the hostile taua, entered the house, and hearing the woman's words, exclaimed, "I will do it for you!" He severed the head, and was in the act of removing it when Kata, suddenly apprehending his real intention, made a dash for it; he waved it out of her reach; the streaming gore flew round, and fell as he held it over a kit of water-melons. In came the taua, and munched the melons up. Mr. Tapsal himself, was stripped of all save the clothes he had on, and then beheld his premises on fire. And now the missionaries, Messrs. Wilson and Wade, arrived from Tauranga, and going to Waharoa, asked him to secure Tapsal's safety, and the safety of his native wife. The chief consented, and said they might leave the place, which Tapsal was not slow to do, and went to Te Tumu, where he managed to obtain his own boat from the natives--for Tapsal had considerable influence with the natives in their cooler moments, having no less than four trading stations, viz, at Matamata, Tauranga, Maketu, and Te Awa-o-te-Atua. At Te Tumu, Tapsal rescued five women from slavery, and then withdrew in his boat to Te Awa-o-te-Atua,
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where Rangitekina enabled him to escape to Te Kupenga, and so he rejoined the Arawas. Among the women rescued from slavery on this occasion was Kata, Haupapa's widow, of whom the reader will hear more yet.
By the burning of his place at Maketu, Tapsal lost a large amount of property; among other things, it is said 120 tons of flax--worth a great deal in the English market--were consumed by the flames. All this flax had been obtained from the natives in exchange for guns and fine powder. In those days, the price of a superior gun was about eight hundredweight of flax, weighed--while for powder, in casks of fifty pounds weight, it was usual to receive one ton of flax per cask. But though there were several Pakeha-Maoris engaged in supplying the belligerent tribes in the Bay of Islands with arms and ammunition, in Waharoa's time, yet none of them assisted the natives by joining in or directing the fights. We make this remark merely because reports of an opposite nature were one time current.
But to resume our narrative of the fall of Maketu. Having effected their object, the missionaries returned to Tauranga. The whole pa was in flames. Shots were flying in every direction--while stark naked savages, with hair cropped short, and features blackened, ran wildly through the scene. They were Maori warriors, flushed with success, and drunk with blood, and wrought to a pitch of fiendish excitement, such as rendered their company unpleasing and unsafe.
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Thus fell Maketu, and thus died Ngatipukenga; for old Nainai, when urged to retreat to Rotorua, had said, "Let me die on my land," a speech which sealed the fate of his tribe. How strange is the fortune of war! Five months afterwards, the selfsame speech, in Korokai's mouth, was the means, in the critical moment of danger, of saving the great Ohinemutu pa. To Te Waharoa, who always led the stormers, the credit however, is due, of being first with his tomahawk to cut the lashings of the pa fence. The attack was made according to a favourite mode, in two divisions; Waikato and Ngatimaniapoto, under Mokorou and Te Kanawa, assaulted the pa on its southern side, rushing up the natural glacis opposite Warekahu (the same slope that, three years afterwards, proved so fatal to them, while Tohi Te Ururangi hurled them pell mell down it)--while Waharoa, with Ngatihaua, scaled the steeps on the river side, and first led his men into the pa.
Two or three days after this, as soon as the heads were sufficiently cured, the warriors returned homewards, and a week after these events, some of them, including Te Waharoa, encamped for the night at Te Papa station. Here numbers of the wretches took up their quarters in Mr. Wilson's garden--the plot of ground that now forms Archdeacon Brown's garden--and destroyed its shrubs, breaking them down to furnish green leaves as dampers to retain the steam of the Maori ovens in which their carrion was cooked. At this time the missionaries had taken the precaution (soon to
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become a custom) to send their families away, and had conveyed them to Panepane, a desert island on the north side of Tauranga harbour.
The complete success and speedy result of Waharoa's first campaign stung the Ngatiwhakaue tribes to rage and action. Within four weeks of the receipt of the news, one thousand six hundred men had mustered at Ohinemutu pa, on Lake Rotorua, and had marched for Maketu, whence it was their set purpose to take the Tumu.
The Tumu pa belonged to Ngaiterangi-- Waharoa's allies--and was situated on the left bank of the Kaituna river, about two miles from Maketu, at the place where the river, descending from the interior, flows to within about one hundred yards of the sea, and then by a sudden freak of nature turns sharply off to the eastward; from whence it pursues a course parallel to the coastline, until it reaches Maketu. At the Tumu, the narrow neck of sand that divided the river from the sea, was not obstructed by growing sandhills, as it is now; but was so low that high tides in heavy gales swept over the river.
Te Tumu was, doubtless, a convenient enough place for Maoris in times of peace--commanding the sea as it did, as well as the river navigation; but for war it was quite the reverse. Unlike Maketu, it had neither natural nor artificial strength; yet the inmates of the pa were as infatuated as the Maketu people had been. Numbering only one hundred men and
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two hundred women and children, their garrison was too weak to hold the position against the large odds to be opposed to them, and too proud to desert it. The chiefs at the Tumu were Kiharoa of Maungatapu, Hikareia, and his nephew Tupaia of Otumoetai, Te Koke, and four others of minor note. It certainly seems strange that the inhabitants of Maketu and Tumu pas were not better supported by their respective tribes; we suppose "what was everybody's duty was nobody's duty," as nobody appears to have been particularly anxious to sacrifice himself for the public weal. This supineness, however, may in reference to the Tumu have been partly due to the occupant's own assumed security--a security arising, perhaps, from the hope that they would not be attacked. Still, there was no foundation for such a hope, for on the 20th April, Ngatiwhakaue made their first haul, and unmistakably signified their view of Ngaiterangi's political position in the war by cutting off one man and ten women, who were found collecting firewood at Maungamana. At any rate, the Tumuites manifested the greatest sang-froid. Kiharoa, when asked if the enemy had not arrived at Maketu in great force, replied, by taking up a handful of sand and saying, "Yes, there is a man there for every grain of sand here." Then, suffering the wind to blow the escaping sand away, he exclaimed, "Hei aha!" Such was the state of affairs, when a highly auspicious omen--an eclipse of the moon--
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roused Ngatiwhakaue to activity. During the night of the 6th May, 1600 men under Kahawai, Pukuatua, Korokai, Hikairo, Amohau, Ngaihi, and Pango, alias Ngaihi--in fact under all the great chiefs of Rotorua--crossed the Kaituna, and, taking their stations unperceived on two sides of the Tumu, awaited the signal of the attack. And now, as morning approached, a young man volunteered to reconnoitre the pa, to ascertain whether the garrison was on the alert, and though several endeavoured to dissuade him from the rash attempt, he went. Passing in the shade along the river bank, he entered the pa as an inmate returning within its precincts--a not uncommon occurrence--and made his rounds without attracting attention, farther than that one man seemed to eye him for a while; then making his exit in the manner he had entered, he reported that the people had evidently been at their posts all night, but had gone to bed, leaving only a few sentinels on duty.
At the first crowing of the cock the onset was made. At the first sound of danger the Ngaiterangi flew to their stations. Kiharoa, hastening with the rest, fell pierced by a ball in his forehead. His body was instantly tumbled into a potato pit, a rough mat thrown over, and remained long undiscovered. The assault was repulsed, and repeated, to be repulsed again; twice renewed and thrice repulsed, the assailants had lost Kahawai, their principal chief, and seventy men. The numbers of the defenders were also considerably reduced. At length the light of returning day revealed to
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both sides the great disparity of forces--the multitude on one side, the few on the other-- and inspired the Ngatiwhakaues with a courage that enabled them to carry the pa. But the desperate strife was not concluded. The Ngaiterangis--men, women and children--hastily collected, and precipitating themselves in a mass upon their enemies, forced their way through them to the sea beach; and fled, not unpursued, for Tauranga. Poor women and children, their fate must rest in oblivion, as only about twenty of the former escaped. The elderly chief Hikareia, closely chased, made for the inland road, to be struck down by a bullet in crossing Wairake swamp. Instantly a New Zealander rushed into the water; in his black heart lay bottled up unwreaked revenge of two generations' keep--a revenge he now appeased by cutting out his victim's liver, and eating it reeking hot on the spot, in utu for his murdered grandfather. Although Hikareia was related to Kahawai's hapu of Ngatiwhakaue, his body was flayed--the dutiful young men his nephews, being foremost in the business, and appropriating the skin to their own use, cutting it up for pouches. One of them secured his uncle's handsome rape -- posterior tattooing -- with which he made an ornamental cartouche box. Well might Mr. Wilson, at Rotorua, write on the 6th May, "The revenge and hate on both sides is ungovernable."
The fall of Te Tumu cost Ngaiterangi seven chiefs, and sixty men killed; and about 180 women and children killed or taken prisoners.
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Tupaia--now Hori Tupaia--was the only surviving chief. If the pursuit had been properly followed up, scarcely a fugitive could have escaped; but, fortunately for the Ngaiterangi, a singular circumstance favoured them in this respect. As soon as the pa was taken, the principal Rotorua chiefs seized, each with an eye to his own personal benefit, upon a celebrated war canoe of enormous size--a sort of little 'Great Eastern' in her way, named 'Tauranga.' Of course, they quarrelled; but failing to settle the matter in that manner, four of them got into her, and spent the day trying to out-sit each other for possession, while their followers were either looking on, or looting the pa.
Ngaiterangi never returned to the Tumu. Hikareia was killed at Wairake, and that place has since been generally considered the boundary of their country--a country which for four years before had extended some seventeen miles further to the eastward, to Otamarakau (Waitahanui). For, in 1832, Ngaiterangi held Maketu, the Arawas only living then on sufferance in a pa situated where the redoubt is now; and Tamaiwahia, a Ngaiterangi tohunga, had a pa at Otamarakau, which he occupied until the troubles consequent on Hunga's death compelled him to flee and seek refuge at Tauranga. Thus the Arawas, when roused, displaced Ngaiterangi, and resumed those coast holdings: severing the weakened links of the once powerful chain of Ngatiawa
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conquests that Ngaiterangihohiri had made four generations before, they pushed themselves northward to the sea, and re-established the maritime frontier of their country.
But Tamaiwahia thought it a pity to lose Otamarakau without an effort to obtain utu. He was a tohunga, and why should he not use his power? We regret to say the temptation proved too strong; he debased his office, and pretended he had seen a vision. The result was, Ngaiterangi fitted out a flotilla, which sailed from Otumoetai and, passing Maketu in the night, landed at Pukehina; whence the taua, under Rangihau and Tamaiwahia, marched inland to attack Tautari's pa at Rotoehu. Now, Tautari was not an Arawa native, but lived at Rotoehu on sufferance, having become connected with Ngatiwhakaue by marriage. He was chief of Ngaitonu, of Whakatane, which tribe is better known now as Ngatipukeko; and, being a renowned old Maori soldier, was not caught napping on this occasion. With much patience and forethought, he had strengthened his pa, and rendered it a very formidable fortress, so that when Ngaiterangi attacked it, they were defeated with the loss of Rangihau, and seventeen killed. On the return of the expedition to Tauranga, Ngaiterangi were incensed against the false prophet to such an extent, that he well-nigh lost his life.
Old Tautari, who resisted this attack, was rather a remarkable warrior. On his person he bore the scars of twelve hatchet wounds;
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and when the dreadful Ngapuhi some years before invaded his country, they were soon glad to get away again; for, instead of rushing to a pa for protection, he took to the hush, and when they followed him, fell upon them at night time while they slept. At length, finding themselves engaged in a desperate guerilla warfare from which nothing could be gained, the Ngapuhis retired from the harassing strife. And now, although he had repelled this invasion, Tautari did not consider the insult wiped out. Therefore, he betook himself to his own country, to equip a fleet; and, mustering a strong taua, put to sea, where we will for the present leave him pursuing his voyage.
The war now raged with the utmost ferocity. From Tauranga looking southward, the fires of Ngatiwhakaue's war parties were constantly visible, especially at the edge of the forest; and when night came, the whole of the intervening open country was prowled over by bloodthirsty cannibals, seeking somebody to devour. The missionaries' families never slept in their houses; and by sunset every Tauranga native was within the fortifications of Otumoetai or Maungatapu. Murdering parties were also sent out from Rotorua towards Matamata, by way of Patatere; and the missionaries, the Rev. Mr. Brown and Mr. Morgan, had already retired from the Matamata station. The former gentleman, with his family, removed to Waimate, at the Bay of Islands; and the latter to Mangapouri, in Upper Waikato. Some time after they left, one of their empty houses was
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burnt down by a taua, but the other remained. When times, however, became less boisterous, the important Matamata station was not re-occupied; was not this a pity?
By the middle of May, 1836, matters had come to such a pass at Tauranga, that Mr. Wade, with his family, retired for safety to the Bay of Islands; and, at the same time, Mr. Wilson-- though he remained at his post--sent his family away also. Mr. Chapman, too, removed his wife from the dangerous station at Rotorua, to that at Mangapouri, in Waikato; and, having done so, joined Mr. Wilson, at Tauranga. Thus, when all had fled, did these maintain their ground--like brave mariners, who, alone on deck, observe the direction and force of the storm, and patiently watchful for a favourable change, endeavour, by the means at their command, to extricate their hapless bark from surrounding dangers--"from the impervious horrors of a leeward shore"--so these two faithful men waited opportunities to exercise their influence for good, and, by a seasonable presence, asserted the neutrality of the missionary position, so that, in the end, it became fully established. But they were not content simply to retain Tauranga, and therefore, after a while, they separated--Mr Chapman returning to Rotorua, where his station had been sacked and burnt, and whence Mr. Knight, his assistant, had retired.
We may here mention a tragedy--all are tragedies in this chamber of horrors--Oh! that we might sometimes delineate with a brighter
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pencil; but we have not the gift of Claude Lorraine; and even if we possessed so rich a talent, truth, simple truth, would compel us to use the sombre and monotonous colours of that dark and dreary time--a wintry time, almost bereft of winter's hopes. Yet to vary our figure, upon that troubled night a day star shall arise, a morning shall appear,--but when that morn shall break, the genius of our subject shall vanish--The Story of Te Waharoa shall cease. To return, however to the tragedy. Mr. Knight was accustomed every morning about sunrise, to attend a school at Ohinemutu pa; but, as there were no scholars on the morning of the 12th of May, he went to the place where he was told they would be found; and there he perceived a great number of people sitting in two assemblages on the ground--one entirely of men, the other of women and the chief Pango. The former company he joined, and conversed with them, as well as he was able, on the sin of cannibalism; but Korokai and all laughed at the idea of burying their enemies. This conversation ceased, however, on Knight hearing the word patua--kill--repeated several times; and looking round towards the women, he was horrified to see the widow of the late chief Haupapa--who was killed at Maketu--standing naked, and armed with a tomahawk; while another woman, also nude, and Pango, were dragging a woman, taken captive at Te Tumu, that she might be killed by Mrs. Haupapa, in the open space between the men and the women.
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Mr. Knight immediately sprang forward, and entreated them not to hurt the woman--but Mrs. Haupapa, paying no attention, raised her hatchet; on this, Knight caught the weapon, and pulled it out of her hand, whereupon the other woman angrily wrenched it from his grasp, and would have killed him, had not Pango interposed, by running at the pakeha, and giving him "a blow and thrust which nearly sent him into the lake." But the prudent spirit of self-command, that animated Speke, under similar circumstances, formed no part of this young Englishman's nature, and he was about to return to the charge when the natives seized him and held him back. Just then, the poor woman, slipping out of the garments she was held by, rushed to Knight, and falling down, clasped his knees convulsively, in an agony of terror. Her murderers came, and abusing the pakeha, the while for pokanoa-ing (interfering or meddling), with difficulty dragged her from her hold. The helpless pakeha says: "It would have melted the heart of a stone" to hear her calling each relative by name, beseeching them to save her,--for though a Tauranga woman, she was connected with Rotorua--and to see her last despairing, supplicating look, as she was taken a few yards off, and killed by that virago, Mrs Haupapa-- the fiendish New Zealandress. Now this scene occurred simply because Haupapa's widow longed to assuage the sorrow of her bereaved heart, by despatching, with her own
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hand, some prisoner of rank, as utu for her lord. The tribe respected her desire; they assembled to witness the spectacle, and furnished a victim by handing over a chief's widow to her will.
Yet, although we deplore the darkness of those times, still, even then, there must have been a few real Christians among the Maoris. We will give two cases, from which, perhaps, our readers will come to the same conclusion.
Te Waharoa had rather a noted fighting chief named Ngakuku. This man, who had, of course, been more perfect in, and given to the sanguinary usages of his companions, embraced Christianity, shortly after the missionaries taught at Matamata, and placed his daughter Tarore, about thirteen years of age, under Mrs. Brown's care. In October, 1836, after the missionaries had removed their families from Matamata, Ngakuku set out for Tauranga, taking his daughter and his son--a little boy-- with him. They were accompanied by several Christian, or warekura natives, as they were called--also by a Mr. Flatt, who was travelling in the service of the mission, to the same place, and they formed a party about twenty in number. Camping at night at Te Wairere, a fire was incautiously made, the smoke of which was seen by a murdering party that had prowled out from Patatere. At day dawn, the travellers were suddenly roused by the violent barking of their dogs; in a moment they had rushed into the bush, but Ngatiwhakaue were quick enough to catch the girl, who slept more
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soundly than the rest. Poor Tarore! when it was discovered that she had not followed, her father, who had carried away the little boy, was about to return--but a gun went off; he heard her shriek, "I am shot"--he heard his own name mingle with her death cries, and then he heard no more. The deed was done--the offering of her heart was waved to Whiro in the air,--a devilish orgy danced, and the murderers had departed almost as quickly as they came.
Now, although it was possible for all this to happen, and Ngakuku to possess but little Christianity, yet we think it quite impossible for a man accustomed, as he had been, to the indulgence of naturally strong passions, to restrain them, that afterwards, when peace was made, he stepped forward, in the presence of his tribe, and shook hands with Paora Te Uata--his daughter's murderer. Could Ngakuku have been guided by that kind of Christianity which, then appeared to float over the land with a hazy light! Could he have done this, solely from a desire to adhere closely to the forms of his new religion? If so, his was, indeed, a wonderful climax of formalism. No: we think Ngakuku was a Christian, and that a ray of pure, bright light illuminated his soul, in the performance of an action so few could follow.
The other instance, though not conspicuous, indicated much in its way, and was that of old Matiu Tahu--the tohunga who escaped from Te Papa pa, at Tauranga, when Te Rohu took
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it in 1828. In the most dangerous times, Matiu never consulted his own safety, but always remained with the missionaries, sleeping in their house, instead of going to the pa at night; and during the long winter evenings of 1836, he would listen to their instructions, or vary the topic by relating his Maori traditions, superstitions, histories and mysteries, together with his experiences and observations as a tohunga; then taking his gun and sallying forth, he would go his rounds, nor retire until he had satisfied himself the enemy was not lurking in the vicinity. Sometimes Mr. Wilson and Matiu would resort to their boat for safety, anchoring her at night in the harbour, and sleeping securely on board her.
We left Tautari with a fleet of canoes at sea. Tuhua, Mayor Island, was his object of attack. He wished to surprise Te Whanau o Ngaitaiwhao, and carry their almost impregnable stronghold by a coup de main,--therefore endeavouring to regulate the progress of his voyage, so as to near the island (which is very high) after nightfall, he silently landed at his destination in the dead of night, and marshalled his forces for the assault.
The pa stood above them, on a precipitous mass of volcanic rock, and the only approach to it was by an exceedingly steep glacis, terminating in a rocky path, which was also steep, and too narrow to allow more than one person to advance at a time. Confidently and eagerly, but without noise, the taua mounted to the
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pa; they swarmed up the glacis, and filled the narrow path--when suddenly above them a hideous yell arose, and a huge body of rock, loosened from its hold, fell crashing and bounding down the path, and thundered through their midst, smashing to atoms the wretches whose ill-starred fate had placed them in its way. The panic was great--while volleys of musketry poured down on the discomfited invaders, and hastened their scarcely less headlong flight. When morning dawned, the dead had been removed, and Tautari's canoes were nowhere to be seen; but the ground was strewed with arms and accoutrements, and the rock that fell was covered with blood--blood, which the women of the pa carefully licked off.
So, when too late, Tautari discovered that he was greater on land than at sea, and that he was deficient in the art of calculating heights, and distances. In fact, he himself had given warning of his approach, by venturing too near the island by daylight; for, on the previous evening, at sunset, his flotilla had been descried from the heights of Tuhua, far off on the southeastern horizon, and suitable preparations had been immediately made for his reception.
The late Tohi Te Ururangi, alias Beckham, was an active fighting chief during the war; and about this time he did two things which we will relate. One circumstance principally refers to the Maori tapu; the other speaks of the once savage nature of this late order-loving man, and shows how altered he became. From
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intelligence received, Tohi started away from Maketu with a Taua Tapu, consisting of twenty men, all fortified and inspired with a doubly refined tapu. The expedition was aimed against a little pa, thought to be nearly empty, up the Kaituna river; but it proved abortive. Tohi was mistaken, and returned minus a man or two. When they arrived at Maketu, the crowd stood apart; a tohunga met them near their canoe; they ranged themselves in a row on the strand, and, squatting down, devoid of clothing, silently awaited the termination of his incantation. He, with his face towards the wind, and small bunches of grass in his hands, made sundry passes over them and in the air, muttering as he did so. This done, they rushed to the river, and plunging in, washed themselves as was necessary after deeds of blood, according to the Maori creed.
The other matter, was the murder by Tohi, of an old Tauranga chief (we forget his name), who had been induced to go to Maketu in the hope of making peace. It was a cruel action. A neutral woman had gone over to Maungatapu, and persuaded him, as he was partly connected with Ngatiwhakaue, to accompany her back for that purpose. As they approached, they were met by Tohi and another man, on the sands in front of Maketu. "There," she said, "I have brought you so and so." She stepped aside, and Tohi and his companion completed the iniquity.
As this quarrel arose between Ngatiwhakaue and Waharoa, it seems strange, perhaps, that
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their respective tauas did not oftener take the direct route between their countries, that lies by Patatere. As far as Te Waharoa is concerned, this may be explained by his desire to draw Ngaiterangi into the strife; he had involved them, and he intended to keep them implicated. While the reason on Ngatiwhakaue's part was probably due to a considerate wish to leave the lion undisturbed in his den; for, as they had Ngaiterangi to fight with, they did not care to go further and fare worse. On one occasion, indeed, in the early part of the war, they had sent a taua direct to Matamata; but it had been driven back, without effecting anything beyond burning down Mr. Morgan's house. From Patatere, however, Ngatiwhakaue frequently sent out murdering parties--tauas toto, and tauas tapu--whose duty it was to infest the Wairere and other roads, and to slay all unwary and defenceless travellers.
Yet, the old chief of our story would sometimes pass by the Wairere road--from Matamata to Tauranga and back again comparatively unprotected; and if remonstrated with, and informed after he had determined to go that the road was just then in an unusually dangerous state, he would reply, "Does not my matakite know much better than you?" Now a matakite is a person who is able to foresee events; and Waharoa's matakite was an old sorceress--in fact his private priestess, who, thoroughly versed in the necromantic art, cast the niu, was consulted on all necessary
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occasions, and accompanied him on his expeditions and journeys.
By the end of July, less than three months after the fall of Te Tumu, Waharoa had assembled another taua to avenge his allies' honour, and maintain the prestige of his own arms. On this occasion he went by Patatere, and his force, consisting chiefly of his own tribe, was not as numerous as his tauas usually were. By the 1st of August he had marched into the heart of the enemy's country, and encamped his army at a place between two and three miles from Ohinemutu pa.
Ohinemutu, the capital of Rotorua, is doubtless on the most singular volcanic site a population ever dwelt upon. On a rising ground at the south end of the lake, it is situated on what seems to the unaccustomed eye to be but a crust that forms neither more nor less than the lid of an immense subterranean cauldron of boiling water. Through this lid numerous natural and artificial holes have been punched, and are used by the inhabitants for cooking purposes. In them the water boils furiously, hissing to the very surface, and emitting clouds of vapour, which under some conditions of the atmosphere are almost dense enough to envelope the pa. Now, it was within this curious pa, which was then a large and very strong one, that the Ngatiwhakaue people had collected for fear of Te Waharoa; all their canoes, also, had been brought within its fortifications.
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When, therefore, Te Waharoa had arrived at Rotorua, he found himself placed in an unsatisfactory position. The well-manned fortifications of the enemy forbade an attack there, with any prospect of success; while his command of the lake by means of the canoes in his possession, not only enabled him to obtain supplies, but would also enable him to fall suddenly upon any of Waharoa's people who might forage on its shores. At length, after waiting several days, Micawber-like, "for something to turn up," Waharoa devised a scheme, and of its success the reader shall judge. On the 6th August, 1836, he sent a party of picked men, who feigned an attack on the pa; one of their leaders was a young man, Weteni Taiporutu, who many years after fought us, and was killed at Mahoetahi. This portion of the affair was so skilfully conducted that, in the excitement of the moment all Ngatiwhakaue, believing Waharoa defeated, rushed out in hot pursuit. When their best men had gone, at the top of their speed, so far as to be utterly out of breath, they unexpectedly came upon a force posted ready to receive them; also the men they had pursued turned back upon them. It was now their turn to flee; with this difference, their enemies were fresh, they winded. And now the crisis comes; few of these men shall live if Waharoa succeeds. The greater portion of his force is distributed in two large ambushes on either side of the road; one under the Ngatihaua chief Pohipohi, the other commanded by
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himself. Suddenly they rise; and from right to left appear to the unlucky fugitives in hundreds, hastening to intercept their flight. They close the way; but Pohipohi has misdirected his men; some confusion ensues; and neither division can fire without slaughtering the other. The Ngatiwhakaue seize upon the blunder; they run the gauntlet; tomahawks are freely used upon them, and many a stalwart warrior bites the dust.
The Ngatiwhakaues were shot down, and pursued to the waharoa (gateway) of their pa, through which they pressed, and would have been followed by Te Waharoa and his Ngatihauas, had not the men in the pa suddenly rallied, closed the gate, and repelled the assailants. Now this unexpected reaction on the part of the Ohinemutu people, was due to Korokai, chief of Ngatiwhakaue proper, alias Ngatipehi; who, when all within the pa-- terrified at the disaster and Waharoa's approach--were taking to their canoes to seek refuge on the island, refused to accompany them, and exclaimed with a loud voice, "Let me die here, upon my own land!" His words and example affected the people, and changed their fear to other emotions; instead of going to the island, Makoia, they hastened to their posts, just in time to save their pa.
That day Waharoa's Ngatihaua and Waikato tribes returned to their camp, laden with booty; for they had sacked Mr. Chapman's mission station at Te Koutu, and they carried with them
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the bodies of sixty of their enemies. And now the work of cutting up and preparing the feast began. While thus engaged, Mr. Knight appeared; he had been robbed of all save shirt and trousers, and had come to complain to Te Waharoa. The natives say they resented his intrusion, which was an angry one; and some of them would have added him to the number of their stock in hand, had not Tarapipi-- Waharoa's son, now known as William Thompson--interposed, and sent him back again. We believe Mr. Knight never knew the danger he was in on this occasion. There was also another European at Te Koutu, a carpenter. Both these men suffered loss, though the natives perhaps thought them well off in having their lives spared. When the excited, bloodstained crowd entered the station, Mr. Knight repaired to his room, and filling the capacious pockets of his shooting-coat with the articles he most required, was about to retire from the scene; when a Maori who had watched his movements, stepped forward, and kindly insisted on relieving him of its weight. At any rate our pakeha must have appreciated the manner of the action, when he turned and saw the poor carpenter down, with a couple of great naked fellows sitting on him, quarrelling and struggling for the clothes on his back; while others tried to tug the garments from his limbs. In vain the oppressed man represented the clothes would be torn, and implored to be allowed to rise and divest himself; each was
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afraid to lose the apparel, and preferred trusting to his own exertions. Besides, the pakeha was worthy of no consideration: he was only a tutua, who had been detected in the act of escaping with a double suit of his own clothes on his person. At length, when they had pretty well plucked their victim, they let him go; and our readers will hardly be surprised to learn that neither he nor his fellow-pakeha remained long in the country.
But in reference to the Koutu station, we have to add the curious fact that on the same day, after Waharoa's taua had retired, Ngatiwhakaue came, and not only completed its plunder, but actually set fire to their own missionary's house. This they did, because their hearts were sad at their own loss and of course their pakeha would not object to participate in their sorrow. Some time after this, these whimsical beings decided that their missionary must have an utu for his losses also, and therefore they informed him they were about to go and destroy Te Papa mission station; his place had been burnt, and Wilson's should be burnt in payment. Mr. Chapman was very uneasy, all he could urge to the contrary was quite unheeded by them; it was impossible to foresee where they would stop, or to say they would not commit murder when excited; and, besides, Te Papa was the only station left in that part of the country. Mr. Chapman, however, solved the difficulty, and baffled them by going to Te Papa and living with Mr. Wilson, telling them
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as he went that if they burnt his brother missionary's house, they must do so over his, their pakeha's head. The following is the last entry in the journal of the Koutu station:--
"The mission station at the Koutu was destroyed on the 6th inst, by the Waikato and Rotorua tribes. The Ngatipehi burnt the house and the adjoining buildings. We saw the fire break out about four o'clock, p.m., in the dwelling house, and before darkness suceeeded twilight, both dwelling houses, and every building, taiepa, etc., were in flames, and reduced to ruins. Thus ended a station which began under such promising circumstances. The ways of the Lord are mysterious, past finding out; yet we must believe they are all founded on wisdom, mercy and truth. The mission station being no more, of course this public journal is from this time discontinued.--8th August, 1836.
There is yet another circumstance that occurred on the 6th of August, that must be mentioned; for it shows how discipline was maintained in Waharoa's tauas. Pohipohi's bungling -- wakararu-ing -- conduct in the morning has so displeased his master that now, while the bodies are being cut up, Waharoa challenges him to single combat. Although the old chief is somewhat lame from his Hauwhenua wound, he is active still, and light as ever. Pohipohi is a tall, powerful man, a great landowner, and ranks next to himself as chief of Ngatihaua; but he must do his duty and make an example of him as a warning to his other
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lieutenants. For Waharoa, who had been successfnl in every conflict, never doubted his own personal power to inflict chastisement in this. Yet his success, though perhaps unknown to himself, had latterly been very much assisted by the superstitious awe--the atua-like dread-- with which the Maori mind had become affected towards him; and we cannot say how this duel would have ended, had not the tribe, as the chiefs were sparring with long tomahawks, rushed in and stopped the fight.
Friendship was restored, and they resorted to scenes of feasting and triumph--such scenes! They lasted nearly a week, and then Waharoa broke up his camp; and taking nearly all his victims' heads with him, departed to his own country by the way that he came.
On the 24th August, Messrs. Wilson and Chapman visited the recent camp. What they saw is described in the former gentleman's journal, and we will conclude our account of this expedition by quoting his graphic words:--
"Along the road leading to the encampment where the Waikato tribes had been pitched, might be seen various marks erected, which signified where a chief or a chief's son had fallen. After three-quarters of an hour's walk we came to the place itself. I can compare the place to nothing better than a small plot of ground allotted to a menagerie of wild beasts. Bones of men lay promiscuously strewed in every direction; here a skull, and there a rib, or ribs with the spine; while around the ovens
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might be recognised any bone of the human frame. When I say that sixty bodies were taken to this den of cannibals, and some of them only partly devoured from being but indifferently cooked, it may easily be conceived that the stench arising from the bones, &c, was offensive in the extreme. It was literally a valley of bones--the bones of men still green with flesh, hideous to look upon! Among some of the spectacles, I was arrested by the ghastly appearance of a once human head. In mere derision it had been boiled, and having a kumara in its mouth, was placed on a post a few feet above the ground; on it might be seen the wound that had caused the wretched victim's death--a long gash on the temple by a war hatchet; it had also been beaten in from behind. It would be impossible now to describe the various thoughts which engaged my mind while walking over this dismal place; enough to say, that never did human nature appear lower or the power of evil greater. At this moment, a bullet from the adjacent ground whizzed through the low tutu bushes where we stood, and warned us to depart, the whole valley being sacred."
The Ohinemutu campaign was the last episode in Waharoa's war with the Arawas. For their loss on that occasion the latter never succeeded in obtaining anything like proper utu. Murdering parties could do little towards squaring such an account, especially as birds had become shy; and, besides, in the course of the war
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these petty affairs generally balanced each other.
After this, Ngaiterangi sent two tauas to Rotorua. One of them camped on the site of the Koutu station; but though close to Ohinemutu, it effected nothing. The other taua, under Taharangi, was in the act of camping at Manene, at the end of their first day's march, when a star shot brilliantly through the eastern sky, back towards Tauranga. Instantly many exclaimed, "Ka hoki te taua! ha hoki te taua!" --equivalent to "There goes our taua back again, its hopes dashed." The unpropitious omen weakened the faith of all in the success of the enterprise, so much so, that the more devoutly superstitious returned to their homes next day. This taua hung a long time about Puhirua--Hikairo's pa, at the north end of the lake; and did not retire until it had killed five women.
In return, the Ngatiwhakaue or Arawa tribes sent two tauas against Ngaiterangi, each of which was accompanied by a fleet from Maketu to command Tauranga harbour. Of these, the first flotilla entered the harbour unawares one night in November, 1838, and caught and ate twelve persons--the crew of a fishing canoe; their bodies were cooked in ovens at Maunganui. To those ovens the Arawa tribes have latterly laid claim, including in their pretensions the whole intervening district, from Maketu to Maunganui. As well might William Thompson, the present Te Waharoa, challenge the ownership of the country that extends from Patatere
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to Ohinemutu, in virtue of his father's cannibalistic triumphs there. The massacre of the fishermen is known as Te Patutarakihi, and is all the first taua effected, notwithstanding it had several skirmishes. The second taua invaded Tauranga in March, 1840, nearly a year after Waharoa's death. It made a demonstration against Maungatapu, and fought a general action on the flats in front of Te Papa; but the proportion of powder expended on both sides was enormous compared with the damage done; for there were not more than ten killed altogether (excepting Te Patutarakihi) on both sides, in both campaigns.
Also, on the other side, Waikato in 1839 sent a taua against Maketu. This time, however, they were beaten and pursued by Ngatiwhakaue, headed by Tohi te Ururangi, as far as Te Tumu. The Waikatos found Maketu much more strongly fortified than it had been on their visit three years before.
But the self-denying presence of the two missionaries, and their labours, were rewarded in the end. There were signs of a favourable change; many warriors had become Christians, and would not fight. And, whereas in the winter of 1836, it was thought they had been murdered, and Mr. Fairburn from the Thames had gone in a boat to ascertain their fate; by January, 1838, those missionaries ventured, from the altered appearance of affairs, to bring their families back to Tauranga. About this time, also, the Rev. A. N. Brown and
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Messrs. J. Morgan and J. Stack were sent to reinforce them.
Yet, if Te Waharoa had lived, it is hard to say in what condition the country would have been. Even some of the Ngatiwhakaues, or Arawas as we now call them, admitted at his death, that in two more years he would probably have driven them from Rotorua. He was attacked with erysipelas at Motu Hoa, at Tauranga, and visited by Messrs Wilson and Brown, who found him on his deathbed an old Maori still. As his illness appeared serious, his tribe carried him to Matamata; where, perceiving his end approach, and anxious even in death, and at the expense of his friends to gratify the ruling passion of his life--the aggrandisement of his tribe--he exclaimed "Oh! that I might drink of Waitioko's sweet waters!" Quickly a lithe stripling took a calabash and ran to Waitioko, a stream in Ngaiterangi's country, which flows in mid-forest, between Te Wairere and Waipapa, and is some ten or twelve miles from Tepuna. In an incredibly short time the youth returned. Te Waharoa drank of the water, pronounced the beverage good, declared the stream his own, and expired, after a ten days' illness, at Easter, 1839.
We will not now pretend to define the Ngaiterangi and Ngatihaua boundary, for the son trod in his father's pious steps; and, besides, Maori titles and claims to land have too often varied, according to the power of the persons
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interested to set them up, and maintain them.
Our readers will acknowledge that the chief whose story we have told was not an ordinary New Zealander. Possessed in war of courage, enterprise and tact, he made his enemies fear him; whilst sometimes to his allies his crafty policy was scarcely a whit less dangerous. He subsidized the Ngatimaniapoto and Waikato-nui tribes, and influenced his Ngaiterangi friends, and by singular address established and preserved a bond of union--no easy task at any time--between four powerful sections of the Maori race; inducing them to march obedient to his word, they fought and bled together, the bond became cemented, and it is precisely this union with its ramifications that has opposed our Government in the districts we write of.
Waharoa was succeeded by his eldest son, Te Arahi, who before the Arawa war had married Penenga, Hikairo's daughter. Though in appearance a fine man, the tribe soon found Te Arahi lacked the mental qualifications necessary for their chief; therefore they deposed him, and placed Tarapipi, his younger brother, in his stead. This chief had already professed Christianity, and was baptised by his present well-known name of William Thompson.
William Thompson, a young man on his accession, was soon much thought of by the natives. His disposition towards the pakehas at that time was favourable, as his father had been; old Waharoa was a great patron to the pakeha. When, however, Europeans were
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followed by a Government which, while it noticed inferior chiefs in other parts of the country, appeared to be nearly ignorant of Thompson's existence, it is only natural to suppose that his sense of isolation was communicated to the tribes that looked to him for advice; just as they had once been accustomed to look to his father for direction and command.
We have been told that Thompson was inclined at one time to enter an educational establishment of some note in this province. But the question was asked--does he smoke? and there was an end of the project, for Te Waharoa's son was not a man to be dictated to in that fashion--to forego "the sweet offence" on such compulsion. If true, it is perhaps a pity his desire was not gratified; still, we should not have been too sanguine. The case of Henare Taratoa, who was killed in the trenches at Te Ranga, reminds us of the fact--well understood elsewhere--that education alone is not sufficient to induce in the native mind a feeling of attachment towards the British Government.
We merely allude to this as showing it was time old Waharoa departed, to avoid the innovations and degeneracy of the age to come. Times became changed; and when he once facetiously carried a missionary of small stature in his arms, into the midst of his audience, he little thought that that man, who had often given him a stick of tobacco, would within ten short years, be required to interdict
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his son's clay pipe. Yes--it was well the chief of that old type departed when he did. Well for himself, as he never could have breathed the atmosphere his son has inhaled; and well for us also; for if he had led his tribes in 1863, we probably should not have forgotten Te Waharoa.
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