An Old New Zealander; or, Te Rauparaha, the Napoleon of the South.

In several of the battles the slaughter was exceedingly heavy, amongst the slain being counted many important chiefs attached to both sides; but still the issue hung in doubt, and so it remained until the great battle of Pakakutu had been fought. On this occasion a supreme effort was made by Te Heuheu, and the struggle culminated in the decisive defeat of Ngati-Awa. Their pa was taken, and their chief Takerangi was slain. With his death was removed one of the principal factors in the quarrel, and the way was paved for a settlement honourable in its terms to all the parties. A conference of considerable importance was immediately held at Kapiti, at which the disquieting issues were discussed, and in the debates upon these contentious points both Te Heuheu and Te Whatanui raised their voices with force and eloquence in the cause of peace. As a result of these negotiations, the differences which had so nearly wrecked Te Rauparaha's consolidating work of fourteen years were amicably settled.132 The general result was that Ngati-Raukawa were reinstated in their possessions at Ohau and Horowhenua and as far north as Rangitikei, while Ngati-Awa retired southward of Waikanae, and extended their settlements as far in that direction as Wellington, where they replaced Pomare, and where, under Te Puni and Wharepouri, they were found by Colonel Wakefield and his fellow-pioneers of the New Zealand Company when they came to the spot in 1839.

But, though the civil war had thus ended in a manner satisfactory to himself and to his friends, Te Rauparaha was stung to the quick by the knowledge that his authority had been so completely set at defiance by Ngati-Awa. And this feeling of irritation was further intensified by the fact that some of his own tribe had shown him so little regard as to aid and abet them in their rebellion. Their disloyal conduct so preyed upon his mind that, as the result of much serious reflection, he determined to absolve himself from all further responsibility on their behalf, by abandoning the business of conquest and returning with Te Heuheu to Maungatautari, where he proposed to live for the remainder of his days the quiet and restful life, to which waning years look forward as their heritage. To this end he collected a number of his most trusty followers, and, shaking the dust of Kapiti from his feet, had travelled as far as Ohau in the execution of his petulant decision, when he was overtaken by representatives of all the tribes, who begged him to return and once more become a father to them. In these entreaties the suppliants were joined by Te Heuheu, whose advocacy broke down the chief's resolution. He at length agreed, amidst general rejoicing, to retrace his steps, and none rejoiced more sincerely than the repentant Ngati-Awa.

Between the date of the battle of Pakakutu and the arrival of the ship Tory, Te Rauparaha does not appear to have been engaged in any conflict of great importance in the North Island, the years being spent in visiting the various settlements which had been established under his guiding genius. These journeys frequently led him across Cook Strait to the Middle Island, where, at Cloudy Bay, there was now a considerable colony of his own and the Ngati-Awa people, who were actively cultivating the friendship of the whalers.133 These visits also more than once led him into sharp conflict with his old enemies, the Ngai-Tahu, who were ever vigilantly watching for the favourable moment to repay their defeat at Kaiapoi. Once they met him on the fringe of Port Underwood, at a spot still called Fighting Bay, where they claim to have defeated him with considerable slaughter. From this engagement, in which his small force was neatly ambushed, the great chief only escaped by diving into the sea and hiding amongst the floating kelp, until he was picked up by one of his canoes, and, availing himself of a heavy mist which suddenly enveloped the scene of strife, fled, leaving his allies, the Ngati-Awa, to continue the unequal struggle. After the fight, the bones of the slain were left to bleach on the beach, where they were repeatedly seen by the first settlers at the port.134

This success did not induce the Ngai-Tahu to pursue the retreating enemy across the Strait; but, elated in spirit, they returned to the south for the purpose of fitting out an expedition on a much more extensive scale, with which they hoped to inflict a crushing blow on their hated enemy. These operations were superintended by Taiaroa, who in a few months had gathered together a flotilla of canoes and boats sufficient to transport some four hundred men. These he commanded in person, and with them proceeded by slow stages to the neighbourhood of Cloudy Bay. Hearing that Te Rauparaha was at Queen Charlotte Sound, the southern warriors steered their fleet for Tory Channel,135 but failed to encounter the enemy until they had reached Waitohi, near the head of the Sound. Here they met, and immediately attacked a large party of Te Rauparaha's followers, who were under the personal direction of their chief. The ground upon which the battle took place was broken and wooded, and it was difficult to bring the whole of the respective forces advantageously into action at once; and therefore the combat resolved itself into a series of skirmishes, rather than a pitched and decisive battle. At the end of the first day Te Rauparaha shifted his position, a fact which has encouraged the Ngai-Tahu people to claim the credit of a victory. But Ngati-Toa did not retire from the field altogether; and for several days hostilities continued to be carried on in a succession of duels between the champions of the opposing tribes, in which the battle honours were fairly evenly divided between them. In these contests Te Rauparaha is said to have warned his men against risking defeat by coming too confidently into close quarters with the enemy. Numerous incidents during the siege of Kaiapoi had served to impress him with Ngai-Tahu's prowess in this class of warfare, and any recklessness on the part of his warriors might therefore easily lose him a valuable life. Thus, when a Ngati-Toa and a Ngai-Tahu were struggling upon the hill-side in full view of both forces, and victory ultimately rested with the southern warrior, Te Rauparaha exclaimed to those about him, "I kiia atu ano" (I told you it would be so). But though an occasional success of this kind attended the southern arms, nothing of a decisive nature was accomplished by Taiaroa on this raid. Scarcity of provisions shortly afterwards compelled him to withdraw to the south; and before he had time or inclination to devise fresh reprisals, events of an external nature had so operated upon the Maori mind as to make any further conflict between the Ngati-Toa and Ngai-Tahu tribes undesirable if not impossible.

It is now fitting to remember that, while these events had been proceeding along the eastern coast of the Middle Island, the process of subduing the southern tribes had not been neglected on its western shore. Out of the extreme confidence which pervaded the Ngati-Toa mind upon the return of Te Pehi from England, a wider field of conquest was sought than appeared to be provided by the plains of Canterbury. In obedience to these aspirations, an important division of their forces was sent across the Strait for the purpose of forcibly establishing themselves in the bays of the Nelson coast. Hapus of the Ngati-Toa and Ngati-Awa united in this expedition, which was attended with unqualified success. They immediately moved to attack the Ngati-Apa settlements in Blind and Massacre Bays, from out of which they drove the inhabitants with ruthless severity, and immediately assumed possession of the soil. Those who had fought under Te Koihua and Te Puoho, the Ngati-Awa leaders, built pas and remained in permanent occupation of the conquered country;136 but Niho, a son of Te Pehi, and Takerei took their Ngati-Tama, and perhaps a few of their Ngati-Rarua, warriors across the wild and almost trackless mountains which intervene between Blind Bay and the west coast. From the Buller district they worked their way southward, killing and taking prisoners almost the entire population as they went, until they reached the Hokitika River, where resistance ceased and the need for further aggression disappeared.

Niho and Takerei settled at Mawhera, on the banks of the Grey River, the centre of that romantic region, the greenstone country, which for centuries had been the Eldorado of Maori dreams.137 At various other points, both to the northward and southward of Mawhera, the northerners established themselves in permanent pas, to the total exclusion of the weaker tribes, who had formerly controlled the barter of the precious nephrite. From these points of colonisation the restless spirit of the invaders was ever carrying them further southward and eastward in search of excitement and adventure. No systematic occupation of the land appears to have been attempted southward of Hokitika; but stray bands of marauders were frequently setting off on predatory expeditions into the pathless mountain-waste of western Otago, which then sheltered the shadowy remnant of the Ngati-Mamoe race. Further and further these adventurers penetrated into the deep glens, rugged passes, and dark forests, until they knew the geographical secrets of the interior almost as intimately as did its former conquerors.138

In the absence of written records, many of these militant journeys have necessarily been effaced from memory, and no tradition has been left to commemorate those whose valiant spirit led them into the wilds of a hostile country, from which only a lion-hearted courage could bring them safely back. Of one such venture, however, undertaken about the year 1836, for the purpose of attacking Tu-Hawaiki on his island fortress at Ruapuke, the story has been preserved; and, because of its ambitious conception and dramatic ending, it is worthy of being narrated here as it has been told in the tribal traditions. The chief concerned in leading the adventure was Te Puoho, who came originally from the country south of the Mokau River, in Taranaki, to assist Te Rauparaha in his policy of conquest. He was at this time the head chief of the Ngati-Tama tribe, who were closely allied to Ngati-Awa, and whom the fortune of war had now settled round the great bays on the Nelson coast. Hearing that the inhabitants away to the south were "a soft people," Te Puoho conceived the idea of raiding their country, and, in addition to matching himself against Tu-Hawaiki, securing a large number of slaves,139 whom he intended to use as beasts of burden. To this end he first completed a strong stockade, in which he intended to herd his captives, and then he set off with a fighting force of some seventy men, and a small number of women, to pierce his way through the dense forest and dangerous passes of the overland route. Arrived at the Grey River, where Niho and his people were settled, he expected to be largely reinforced from amongst his former friends; but, to his consternation, he found that his old comrade, Niho, was distinctly hostile, and most of his people coldly indifferent. A number of his own followers, finding that the purpose of the expedition was not approved by Niho, declined to proceed further in the enterprise and returned to Cook Strait. But at length Te Puoho, nothing daunted, succeeded in persuading a section of the Ngati-Wairangi to reverse their decision not to accompany him, and then with about a hundred followers he commenced his march southward.

His first route took him over the sinuous tracks which hugged the coast line until they reached Jackson's Head, a distance of many hundred miles from the point of departure. Few particulars of this stage of the journey have been preserved: but it is known that they returned northward as far as the Haast River,140 where they deflected their course to the eastward, and proceeded inland by way of the Haast Pass. At Lake Hawea they met a Ngai-Tahu eeling party, from whom they ascertained that the chief with his two wives had gone to Lake Wanaka. On the pretence of guiding two of Te Puoho's men thither, the chief's son, Te Raki, succeeded in getting them deeply entangled in the bush; and then, abandoning them to their own resources, he slipped away to his father's camp and advised him of what had occurred. Arming themselves, they went in search of the two men, who were now wandering aimlessly about, and, finding them floundering in the forest, they soon succeeded in killing them. When it dawned upon him that he had been duped, Te Puoho exacted utu from amongst the other members of the eeling party, and pushed on further into the interior. They navigated the upper waters of the Molyneaux on mokihis, and made their way down the valley of the Mataura through the country of Wakatipu. In view of his previous achievements in that direction, no one would have been surprised had Te Rauparaha or his people attempted an invasion of these far southern districts by sea; but no one ever dreamed of a blow being struck at them by an inland route. Consequently, when this war party marched down the valley of the Mataura, the inhabitants were wholly off their guard, and fell an easy prey to the invaders. An eeling party was captured at Whakaea, and their store of food proved exceedingly welcome to the hungry wanderers, whose only provender up to this time had been wild cabbage, the root of the ti palm, and a few wekas. These wanderings had now occupied the northern men nearly two years, during which many of them had died of cold and hunger. But, though a "dwindled and enfeebled band," they were still strong enough to secure another party of Ngai-Tahu, whom they found camped in the midst of a clump of korokiu trees, which then grew upon the Waimea Plain. Te Puoho believed that he had secured the whole of the party, but in this he was mistaken. Some few escaped, and, hastening off to the Tuturau pa, warned the people there of the approaching danger, the fugitives making their way to the Awarua whaling station. Te Puoho and his party immediately proceeded to occupy the abandoned pa, in the hope that a prolonged rest would recruit their exhausted powers; and, innocent of the fact that retributive justice was at hand, they settled down to leisurely enjoy the recuperative process.

From Awarua news of the raid was dispatched to the island of Ruapuke, where Tu-Hawaiki and his men were. Memory of the event is still well preserved on the island, as the last occasion on which oblation was offered to the god of battle. In accordance with ancient Maori custom, this ceremony took place in an immense cavern, which opens to the sea beach beneath the island fortress. It may still be seen, a dark abyss; and, although geological periods must have elapsed since it was instinct with the life of mighty waters, the echo-swish still sounds and resounds, as if acting and reacting the story of its birth. Shut up amidst these ghostly sights and sounds, the tribal tohunga spent the night in severe exorcisms. Outside in the open was heard the clash of arms, plaintive wails and lamentations of the tangi for the dead. At dawn of day the prescribed spells to weaken the enemy were cast and the invocation to the spear was spoken. The followers of Tu-Hawaiki then sailed for the mainland and effected a landing at what is now known as Fortrose. Concealing themselves during the day, they marched under cover of night, reaching Tuturau early on the morning of the third day. Being unapprehensive of danger, the inmates of the pa were in their turn caught napping, and the recapture was effected as smartly as had been the original capture. As the attacking force crept cautiously within gunshot, Te Puoho was observed sleeping on the verandah of one of the houses. A slight noise fell upon his quick ear and startled him. He sprang to his feet; instantly the report of a gun rang out, and he fell a lifeless heap upon his bed. Some thirty in all were killed. The rest, with one exception,141 were taken prisoners, and confined on Ruapuke Island, whence they were afterwards smuggled away by a pakeha-maori boatman named McDonald, who, under an arrangement with the Ngati-Toa tribe, landed them safely back at Kapiti.

The Haast River raid, as the exploit of Te Puoho is known in Maori history, becomes interesting not only because it was on this occasion that the followers of Te Rauparaha reached the most southerly limit of their aggressions upon Ngai-Tahu, but because it affords another evidence, if such were needed, of the extremes to which the Maori was ever ready to go in order to get even with an enemy. Primarily, the raid was designed as a stroke of retaliation upon Tu-Hawaiki, whom they hoped to surprise by pouncing upon him from a new and unexpected quarter. To effect this, a long and dangerous journey had to be braved; they had to penetrate into a region in which Nature seemed to have determined to impose in the path of human progress her most forbidding barriers. Not only had this band of half-clad savages to cross what the late Sir Julius Von Haast has described as "one of the most rugged pieces of New Zealand ground which, during my long wanderings, I have ever passed," but they had to contend with snowfields lying deep in the Southern Alps, the swollen torrent, the pathless forest, and the foodless plains. Not even the roar of the avalanche as it swept down the mountain-side, the impassible precipice as it loomed dark across their path, nor the severity of the climate, with its oscillations from arctic cold to tropical heat, was sufficient to chill their ardour for revenge. So for two years they wandered amidst some of the grandest and gloomiest surroundings, at times suffering bitterly from cold and hunger. In the stress of these privations the weaker ones died; but the survivors were sustained by the enthusiasm of their leader, who directed their course ever to the southward, where they hoped some day to meet and vanquish their hated rival. Of the fate which overtook them, history has told; and, though future generations may be reluctant to endorse the purpose of their mission, they will not refuse to credit them with a certain spirit of heroism in daring and enduring what they did to accomplish their end.

The peace which had been dramatically concluded at Kapiti by Te Heuheu breaking the taiaha across his knee, and which closed what is known as the Hao-whenua war, was sacredly observed by all the tribes for some years; and this respite from anxiety afforded Te Rauparaha freedom of opportunity to pursue his grudge against the Rangitane and Muaupoko peoples. The humiliated remnant of the Muaupoko tribe had by this time sought and obtained the protection of Te Whatanui, who had promised them, in his now historic words, quoted many years afterwards by Major Kemp, that so long as they remained his dutiful subjects he would shield them from the wrath of Te Rauparaha: "I will be the rata-tree that will shelter all of you. All that you will see will be the stars that are shining in the sky above us; all that will descend upon you will be the raindrops that fall from heaven." Although slavery was the price they had to pay for the privilege of breathing their native air, it at least secured them the right to live, though it did not secure them absolute immunity from attack. More than once Te Whatanui had to protest against the inhumanity of Ngati-Toa towards those whom he had elected to save from utter destruction; and these distressing persecutions did not cease until the Ngati-Raukawa chief told Te Rauparaha, in unmistakable language, emphasised by unmistakable gestures, that, before another hair of a Muaupoko head was touched, he and his followers would first have to pass over his (Te Whatanui's) dead body. Unwilling to create a breach of friendship with so powerful an ally as Te Whatanui, Te Rauparaha ceased openly to assail the helpless Muaupoko, though still continuing to harass them in secret. He plotted with Te Puoho to trap the Rangitane, and with Wi Tako to ensnare the Muaupoko: the scheme being to invite them to a great feast at Waikanae, to partake of some new food142 which the pakeha had brought to Kapiti. So far as the Rangitane were concerned, the invitation was prefaced by an exchange of civilities in the shape of presents between Mahuri and Te Puoho; and when it was thought that their confidence had been secured, the vanity of the Rangitane was still further flattered by an invitation to the feast. A considerable number of them at once set out for Waikanae; but, when they arrived at Horowhenua, Te Whatanui used his utmost endeavours to dissuade Mahuri, their chief, from proceeding further. Knowing Te Rauparaha as he did, he felt convinced that he could not so soon forget his hatred for those who had sought to take his life at Papaitonga: and, while he would have had no compunction about killing in open war every man and woman of the tribes he was protecting, his generous soul revolted against the treachery and slaughter which he feared lay concealed beneath the present invitation. His counsel was therefore against going to Waikanae; but the impetuous young Mahuri saw no reason for alarm, and, heedless of the advice of Te Whatanui, he led his people to their destruction.

On their arrival, the hospitality of Te Puoho was of the most bountiful nature. The visitors were shown to their houses, and no effort was spared to allay any suspicion of treachery. But one night, as they sat around their fires, the appointed signal was given, and the guests were set upon by a force superior in numbers by two to one, and, to use the words of a native143 who knew the story well, "they were killed like pigs," only one man escaping from the massacre. This was Te Aweawe, whose life was spared at the instigation of Tungia, in return for a similar act of humanity which the Rangitane chief had been able to perform for him some time before. In justice to Te Rauparaha, it should be stated that this massacre was not entirely prompted by his old grudge against the Rangitane people, but partly arose out of a new cause of grievance against them, which serves to illustrate the complexity of Maori morality and the smallness of the pretence upon which they deemed a sacrifice of life both justifiable and necessary. The offence of which the Rangitane people had been adjudged guilty enough to deserve so terrible a punishment was the fact that they were somewhat distantly related to the Ngati-Kahungunu tribe, resident in the Wairarapa. These people had some time previously killed a number of Ngati-Toa natives, whom they believed to be plotting their destruction; for, while they were discussing their plans in one of the whares, a Ngati-Kahungunu, who was sleeping with at least one ear open, overheard their conversation, and at once gave the alarm, with the result that the tables were turned on the scheming Ngati-Toa. Their deaths, however, had to be avenged; and it is easy to understand how gladly Te Rauparaha would avail himself of this new excuse for wiping out old scores.

The morning after the massacre, Tungia took Te Aweawe outside the Waikanae pa, and, placing a weapon in his hand, said, "Go! come back again and kill these people." The released chief at once made his way back as best he could to the Manawatu, where he found most of the settlements deserted by the terror-stricken inhabitants, in consequence of the appalling news which had just reached them of the death of their friends. He, however, succeeded in collecting about thirty warriors, and with these he travelled down the coast, receiving additions by the way from a few stragglers belonging to his own and the Muaupoko tribes. When they reached Waikanae, they found the Ngati-Toa and Ngati-Awa peoples busily engaged in gathering flax to trade away for guns and powder and little suspecting an attack. They had beguiled themselves into the false belief that the shattered Rangitane would not be able to collect in so short a time a force sufficiently strong to harm them. When, therefore, Te Aweawe, at the head of his brave little band, burst in upon them, dealing death at every blow, they, in their turn, were at all the disadvantage of being taken completely by surprise. Upwards of sixty of the followers of Te Rauparaha were killed, amongst them a chieftainess named Muri-whakaroto, who fell into the hands of the enraged Te Aweawe, and was despatched without the slightest compunction. Matea, the Rangitane chief second in command, was more chivalrous to Tainai Rangi, for he spared her and brought her back, a prisoner certainly, but still alive. Such of the flax-gathering party as were not slain made good their escape down the coast; and the avengers of Mahuri, fearing that they might soon return with a large and active war party, beat a hasty retreat, well satisfied with the result of their mission of revenge – the last great act of slaughter perpetrated by the resident people as a protest against the conquest of their country.