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

At dawn next morning,156 the camp of Te Rauparaha was easily located by the smoke rising through the forest trees at the mouth of the Waitohi Valley, about four miles away. The magistrate then mustered his constables, and served out to each man eighteen rounds of ball cartridge. All told, they numbered forty men, bearing muskets, bayonets, and cutlasses, besides ten or twelve gentlemen who were without arms, the chief surveyor and Mr. Cotterell being members of the Society of Friends, and refusing, in accordance with their religious principles, to carry them. After a short march across the plain through the fern and toetoe, they arrived at the foot of the Tua Marina hills, and there they halted, having, during the course of the journey, been cautioned not to fire unless ordered to do so.

The constitution of the arresting party was not calculated to ensure success in the event of resistance on the part of the Maoris. They were untrained and without discipline. Some of them were even unwilling participants in the expedition, for they had been coerced into coming by the threat that they would lose their employment in the service of the Company if they refused to assist in the arrest of the chiefs. Their arms were old-fashioned and not in the best of repair; there was a total lack of organisation, and apparently no common understanding as to who was in authority. Under these circumstances, the result could scarcely have been different, regard being had to the character of the men with whom they had to deal.

Anyone sitting on the hill-side even now can, without the aid of a vivid imagination, picture the animated scene which unfolded itself on that bright June morning. What are now grass paddocks were flats, more or less covered with native scrub. Of what was then dense bush only a few detached fragments now remain, but otherwise the physical features of the landscape are but little changed. The Maoris, when they first observed the Europeans, were squatting around their camp-fires on the western side of the Tua Marina stream. They immediately hailed them and inquired if they intended to fight. Mr. Thompson answered in the negative, and, after explaining the purpose for which he had come, asked the natives to place a canoe across the stream that he might come over and talk the more freely to them. Rauparaha consented to this course, but stipulated that the armed men should not be allowed to cross over; and, the magistrate agreeing to this condition, the special constables were left in charge of Captain England and Mr. Howard, who had instructions to act if called upon. He himself, accompanied by Captain Wakefield, Mr. Patchett, Mr. Tuckett, Mr. Cotterell and Mr. Brooks,157 the interpreter, crossed over in the canoe, which was immediately drawn back again alongside the bank by a native nicknamed Piccawarro (big-fellow), to prevent any surprise from the force on the other side of the stream. When the magistrate walked into the presence of the natives, he observed that they numbered about ninety men and thirty-five women and children; but, as an indication of their peaceful intentions, they had placed in the midst of their group three women, the wives of Rauparaha, Rangihaeata, and Puaha, while the party of resident natives sat on one side, and the immediate followers of Rauparaha on the other. The noble and dignified Puaha stood in the centre with a Bible in his hand, reading from it select passages, and exhorting both parties to peace, while the natives sitting around chanted the usual welcome, Haere-mai, Haere-mai. Rangihaeata lay concealed behind some bushes, but Rauparaha came forward frankly when Mr. Thompson inquired for him, saying "Here am I," and offered to shake hands with the strangers. But this courtesy was declined by the magistrate, who pushed the chief's hand away, and it was left to Mr. Tuckett and Mr. Cotterell to perform the politeness of a friendly greeting.

In reply to Rauparaha's inquiry as to what had brought them there, Mr. Thompson proceeded to explain to him, through Brooks, the interpreter, that he was their prisoner. Rauparaha disdainfully replied that it would be time enough to indulge in such talk when Mr. Spain had made his inquiry about the land. They then strove to make him understand that, as this case had nothing to do with the land, but was a charge of arson, it did not come within the province of Mr. Spain to inquire into it, but that the charge must be heard on the brig. Rauparaha declared that he had not destroyed any European property, in proof of which he appealed to Mr. Cotterell, who admitted the truth of his assertion, and therefore he would not go on board the brig, but he was quite willing that the matter should be adjudicated upon there and then, and, provided the compensation demanded was not excessive, he would be prepared to pay rather than there should be any ill-feeling between the two races. Thereupon he was told that, if he would not go voluntarily he must be taken by force, and a pair of handcuffs were produced to impress him with the sincerity of this threat. His chieftain blood was aroused by this insult; he indignantly dared them to try to imprison his hands in such implements and bind him like a slave, but begged for longer time to talk the matter over. The magistrate, who was now rapidly losing his temper, began to stamp and rave, and scorning the need for further argument, desired the interpreter to finally ask Rauparaha to say whether he would go on board the brig or not; and, upon his still firmly refusing to do so, Mr. Thompson turned to Brooks and exclaimed, with a violent gesture in the direction of the opposite bank, "Then tell him there are the armed party; they will fire on them all." A native from the Bay of Islands who was present amongst Rauparaha's people, and who understood a smattering of English, told those of Rauparaha's party that an order to fire had been given, and sixteen of them at once sprang to their feet, and, presenting their muskets at the magistrate, awaited the order from their chief to fire. The mistaken impression under which this hostile display had been made was at once removed by the chief surveyor and Mr. Patchett, who walked over to them and explained that only a threat, and not an order, to fire had been given, and on this assurance they immediately subsided to their seats on the ground.

The altercation between Mr. Thompson and Rauparaha still proceeded. The former produced his warrant, which he told the chief was the "book-a-book" of the Queen "to make a tie," and that he was the Queen, again adding, in high and excited tones, stamping his foot the while, that if Rauparaha did not consent to surrender himself, he would order the Europeans to fire on them. This was quickly interpreted to the armed natives by the stranger from the Bay of Islands, and they instantly sprang to their feet and pointed their muskets at Mr. Thompson and his companions, as before. At this point, the peace-making Puaha158 stepped forward with his Testament in his hand and said, "Don't fight, don't fight! This book says it is sinful to fight. The land has been made good by the preaching of the missionaries. Don't make it bad again." In this way he strove to reason with Mr. Thompson, but the latter in his frenzy and rage pushed the native aside, and angrily called out for Rangihaeata to come forward. That chief, on hearing his name, came from behind the bushes which concealed him, and, leaping into the midst of the throng, began to brandish his hatchet in dangerous proximity to the magistrate's head, meanwhile upbraiding him in a most violent manner. "What do you want with Rangihaeata that you come here to bind him? Do I go to Port Jackson or to Europe to steal your lands? Have I burned your house? Have I destroyed tents or anything belonging to you?" Such were the pertinent inquiries made by the angry chief; and, as it was quite evident from his flashing eyes and bitter tones that he was in no mood to be trifled with, Mr. Patchett appealed to the chief surveyor to interfere, "otherwise," he said, "we shall all be murdered." Rauparaha, seeing that his companion's manner was not likely to improve matters, ordered him to retire and leave the settlement of the matter to Puaha and himself, at the same time leading Rangihaeata's lame wife, Te Rongo, to him, so that she might be under his protection. Mr. Tuckett then seized the opportunity of pointing out to Captain Wakefield that, in the event of Rangihaeata's temper getting the better of him, they would be completely at the mercy of the natives, seeing that their retreat had been cut off by the removal of the canoe. After a brief consultation with Puaha, they agreed that it would be wiser to restore the means of communication between themselves and their party on the other side of the stream. Captain Wakefield, taking the initiative, jumped into the canoe, and with the aid of a pole shoved the bow down the stream until he found a convenient landing-place on the other side. While this movement was in progress, Mr. Thompson159 had made another attempt to place the handcuffs upon Rauparaha's wrists. Just at that moment, when the chief had indignantly wrested his hand from the magistrate's grasp, and was bitterly protesting against the conduct of the Queen's officers, Captain Wakefield stepped on to the opposite bank of the creek, and, noticing a threatening movement towards Mr. Thompson on the part of the natives, in a loud voice gave the command, "Men, forward; Englishmen, forward!" The company at once obeyed, and four of the men who were in the front, Morgan, Clanzey, Ratcliffe and Tyrrell, jumped into the canoe for the purpose of crossing over to assist Mr. Thompson. Almost simultaneously the latter turned and entered the canoe at the other end, with the result that she was nearly capsized. A momentary confusion ensued, during which one of the Englishmen, in striving to get in front of his companions on the bank, tripped and fell, and in the fall his gun was accidentally discharged. That was the fatal crisis, for it turned what had hitherto been only stirring drama into fearful tragedy.

The natives had now no doubt that the Europeans had come to fight, and Te Rauparaha, believing death to be imminent, turned, and, stretching his arms heavenward, exclaimed, "Hei kona e te ra, hei kona e te ao marama – haere mai e te po, haere mai e te mate" (Farewell, O sun, farewell, thou world of light; come on, O night, come on, O death). This was a cry which a chief would only utter in a situation of deepest stress, and no Maori loyal to his leader would refuse to obey the call, even though it should cost him his life. The natives therefore briskly returned the fire, the first volley being fatal to Tyrrell, who was shot in the throat. Clanzey and Ratcliffe were also shot by the first discharge of musketry, and their bodies fell into the water and sank to the bottom. The Englishmen returned volley for volley, and, in the midst of the general fusilade, Mr. Thompson and his party passed safely over in the canoe. Mr. Tuckett was the last to leave the bank on which the natives were, which he did by entering the stream, and, with one hand on the canoe, pulling himself through the water. At this stage of the fight the natives might easily have killed every one of the leading Europeans; for, when the latter started to cross the stream, the muzzles of the native guns were no more than a few yards away from them. The fact that they were not shot must have been due to some chivalrous sentiment on the part of the natives, who, seeing them unarmed, honourably abstained from attacking them. For some ten minutes after crossing the creek, Mr. Tuckett stood no more than twenty yards away, fully exposed to the fire that was being kept up by the natives and fourteen or fifteen of the European rank and file. Beside him stood Messrs. Barnicoat, Cotterell, Richardson, Patchett, and Maling. The two latter were shot almost at the same moment. Mr. Richardson bent over Mr. Patchett and inquired if he was hurt, to which he replied, "I am mortally wounded – I am mortally wounded; you can do no good for me; make your escape."

The bullets now began to rain down upon them thick and fast. As several of the labourers had fallen in the vicinity, including Northam, Smith, and Burton, Mr. Tuckett and his friends retired to the foot of the ridge, whither the other officers had gone with a portion of the men to consult as to the best course to pursue. They decided to retreat up the hill, and called to Mr. Tuckett and the rest of the party to follow them. This act of mistaken generalship cost them dear, for up to that time their fire had kept the natives penned up on the other side of the stream. But the moment they observed the Europeans falling back, they dashed into the water, and, carrying their guns above their heads to keep them dry, crossed over and took possession of the trees which grew on the opposite edge. Secure within this cover, they opened a galling fire upon the Europeans, who were now hopelessly exposed upon the face of the fern-clad hill.

Mr. Thompson did his utmost to steady the party by exclaiming, "For God's sake, men, keep together!" But his appeals were for the most part disregarded, not more than a third of the men remaining with their leaders, the rest retreating up the ridge and firing haphazard as they went. Captain Wakefield's attempts to instil something like discipline into the men were likewise frustrated by some panic-stricken individual rushing up and shouting out, "Run for your lives, lads, run!" – an injunction which they were not slow to obey. In an instant all semblance of organisation had disappeared. Time after time a few men were got together, but the majority were always utterly beyond control. On the last partial rally Captain Wakefield and Warrant Officer Howard ordered the men to fix bayonets and charge the natives; but on one of the men (Richard Painter), who had been in the artillery, pointing out that there was no one visible to charge at, the idea was abandoned. The natives were still maintaining a steady fire, and a protest on the part of the artilleryman, who declined to remain where he was "and be shot down like a crow," led to a further retreat up the hill-side. On the second brow of the hill they met Mr. Cotterell, who was sitting down with a double-barrelled gun at his side. At the commencement of the quarrel he had been unarmed, but he had now seized this weapon in self-defence. He appeared deeply distressed at what had occurred, and expressed his intention of quitting the scene; but he was dissuaded from this course by Captain Wakefield, who, addressing him in most earnest tones, said, "For God's sake, Mr. Cotterell, don't attempt to run away; you are sure to be shot if you do." Mr. Cotterell therefore remained with the party, only remarking to Painter, one of his own men, "This is bad work, Dick."

Being now out of range of the native fire, a council of war was held of such of the party as could be got together, and finally it was decided that Captain England and Mr. Howard should bear a flag of truce to the natives, and endeavour to settle the dispute by negotiation. A white handkerchief was accordingly fixed on a stick, and, with this fluttering in the breeze, the two officers started towards the wood. As an indication of their sincerity in desiring to relinquish fighting, Captain Wakefield ordered all those who were with him to lay their arms on the ground, and the natives, seeming fully to appreciate the nature of the advances that were being made to them, ceased firing, and a number of them left their muskets behind the trees and came out to meet the bearers of the flag. Captain England and his comrade had almost reached the wood, when some of the Englishmen who had halted much higher up the hill than Captain Wakefield, seeing the Maoris emerging from the bush, commenced to fire upon them, notwithstanding that they had seen the flag of truce, as well as their companions laying down their arms. Regarding this as a dastardly act of treachery, the Maoris beat a hasty retreat into the bush, and reopened a rapid fire upon the Englishmen, whereupon Captain England and Mr. Howard ran back to the hill, and reached the spot from which they had started, uninjured by the native bullets.

This attempt at conciliation having failed through the folly of their own people, the magistrate and Captain Wakefield decided to go further up the hill and meet those who were in advance of them, to induce them, if possible, to act in concert with the rest. In this they were no more successful than before, for no sooner did the one section begin to advance than the other began to retreat. Seeing that this must go on indefinitely, Mr. Tuckett endeavoured to persuade Captain Wakefield that their best hope of reaching the beach and getting back to the brig was to abandon the ridge which they were climbing, and strike down into the plain. Although this advice was twice pressed on Wakefield, he took no notice of it, and Mr. Tuckett thereupon, calling to Mr. Barnicoat and a labourer named Gay to follow him, descended in an oblique direction on to the plain below. For a moment Mr. Cotterell hesitated which course to take, but finally decided to go up the spur with the rest, and this decision cost him his life. When Captain Wakefield and his party began their last retreat, most of them left their muskets lying on the brow of the hill, and were therefore quite defenceless; but the Maoris kept up a running fire as they gradually crept up the side of the range. As they approached the summit of the first knoll, Mr. Cotterell stopped and surrendered himself when the natives reached him, calling out, "Enough, enough! that will do the fight," in the hope of assuring them that the Europeans wanted peace. But he was immediately struck down and his body thrown into a manuka bush. Captain Wakefield followed his example by surrendering a few minutes later, as did also Captain England, Messrs. Richardson, Howard, Brooks, Cropper, McGregor, and the magistrate. A few of the younger natives were in the van of the pursuit, and these held the prisoners in hand until the arrival of Rauparaha, whom they had outstripped. At first gold was offered as ransom, and it seemed as if the feud would end without more bloodshed, for the chief had accepted the assurances of Captain Wakefield that the shooting had been a mistake, and had shaken hands with them all. But Rangihaeata, who had killed the wounded as he found them lying on the hillside, panting with haste and anger, rushed up and called out to Rauparaha, "What are you doing? Your daughter Te Rongo160 is dead. What are you doing, I say?"

Scorning the acceptance of gold, he then fiercely demanded the lives of the principal Europeans as the only utu that would compensate him for the loss of his wife, exclaiming in impassioned tones, "We are sure to be killed for this some day. The white people will take utu; let us then have some better blood than that of these tutua (common men). We are chiefs; let us kill the chiefs, and take utu for ourselves beforehand." To this Rauparaha was at first reluctant to agree, and his objections were well supported by Puaha and the other Christian natives; but he felt that, in view of Te Ronga's death, the demand was a reasonable one, and he at length yielded to the powerful appeal of his lieutenant, and delivered the unfortunate colonists over to their fate.

At this juncture Mr. Thompson seemed, for the first time, to be apprehensive of serious consequences attending his conduct, and he implored Rauparaha to save their lives. But that chief haughtily answered, "Did I not warn you how it would be? A little while ago I wished to talk with you in a friendly manner, and you would not; now you say 'Save me.' I will not save you." The whole party then retired a little lower down the hill, and there the massacre commenced. Captain Wakefield and Mr. Thompson were killed by Te Oru,161 a son of Te Ahuta, the first native who fell in the fight, as a retribution for the death of his father. Brooks, the interpreter, was struck down by Rangihaeata and despatched by the slaves, which would account for the mangled condition in which his body was found by the burial party from Port Underwood. The rest of the slaughter, according to native accounts, was conducted mainly by Rangihaeata. His method of procedure was to glide silently behind the victims while they were standing amongst the crowd of natives and brain them with a single blow of his tomahawk. The peculiar part of the tragedy was that none of the Englishmen, except Captain Wakefield, made the slightest resistance, and even he was checked by Mr. Howard exclaiming, "For God's sake, sir, do nothing rash!" Perhaps their ignorance of the native language prevented them from understanding all that was passing around them until they received the fatal blow. But there was no struggle, no cries, except from the native women, led by Puaha's wife, who pleaded with the men to "save some of the rangatiras, if only to say they had saved some." No Englishman who survived actually saw the massacre, and therefore it is impossible to describe the exact method of its execution; but the colonists to all appearances met their fate with the greatest equanimity. George Bampton, who had concealed himself amongst the fern only a few yards from the spot where the tragedy was enacted, in giving evidence at Nelson a few days after the event, deposed that "he heard neither cries nor screaming, but merely the sound of beating or chopping, which he supposed at the time to be natives tomahawking the white people."

In accordance with Rauparaha's express orders, none of the dead bodies were mutilated or stripped, although Captain Wakefield's watch was taken by Rangihaeata and buried with Te Rongo, while one native furnished himself with a pair of white gloves and another with a pair of silver-mounted pistols. After burying their own dead in the Waitohi Valley, the two chiefs, with their followers, came down to the mouth of the Wairau River, bringing with them their own canoes and the whaleboat which had been taken up by Mr. Cotterell and his men. In these they went first to Robin Hood Bay, and then to Te Awaiti, in Tory Channel, where they remained a few days, finally crossing the Strait to Mana and Otaki, there to await developments.

Shortly after the skirmishing began, a Sydney merchant named Ferguson, who had been a passenger in the brig to Nelson, and had accompanied her to the Wairau under the impression that he would have a pleasant outing, had taken one of the wounded men, Gapper, down to the river where the boats had been left that morning, and, with him and the boatman who had been stationed in charge, had paddled down the river to the bar, and reached the brig that afternoon. A number of the men had also gone down the Waitohi Valley, which was then densely bushed, and by this means had evaded pursuit until they could return to Nelson by the overland route. Others, again, who had broken away from the main body had made for the sea, so that before Mr. Tuckett and his two companions had proceeded very far they were joined by eight of the original party, one of whom, John Bumforth, was badly wounded in the shoulder. Mr. Tuckett first proposed that they should divide into two parties, the one to proceed to the bar and the other to the vicinity of Port Underwood, thinking that by this means the chances of some of them reaching the brig would be increased. But the men stoutly refused to separate, and the chief surveyor then decided to proceed to the corner of Cloudy Bay nearest the port, where luckily they found one of Mr. Dougherty's fully equipped whaleboats riding in the bay a few chains off. They hailed the boatmen, and explained that they wished to be taken to the brig, which was anchored some seven or eight miles away; but owing to the heavy swell that was rolling into the bay at the time, and the large number of the party, there was the greatest difficulty in persuading the whalers to comply with the request. Even after the danger of embarking had been overcome, the headsman had almost made up his mind not to risk the voyage to the brig, but to land the party at Port Underwood. But fortune still favoured the fugitives, for at this moment another boat's crew, who had been watching their movements, imagining that they had sighted a whale, came out in pursuit, and the two boats raced for the brig, which was almost reached before the pursuing crew discovered the true position of affairs. Up to this point the whalers had not been informed why Mr. Tuckett and his friends desired to get on board the brig, but they were now told that a fracas had occurred between the Europeans and the natives, that the leaders of the party were Rauparaha's prisoners; and a promise (that was never fulfilled) was extracted from the boatmen that they would convey the intelligence to the other settlers at the port, and prepare them to act as they might think best under the circumstances. The captain of the brig then sent his boats to search the shore, in the hope that other fugitives might have reached the beach; but no one was seen, and no unusual circumstance was noted except the burning of a large fire at the mouth of the river, which had been lit for some purpose by the natives. The brig then weighed anchor and sailed for Wellington, the captain, whose inclination was to enter Port Underwood, adopting this course at the earnest solicitation of Mr. Tuckett, who believed that, if assistance was necessary, it could be more easily obtained from the larger centre of population.