Note.—It is pleasant to record that this signal service on the part of the Whanganui did not go unrecognised at the time, nor has posterity been allowed to forget it. The bodies of the dead chiefs were brought into Whanganui on the day following the battle, and accorded a military funeral, which was attended by Colonel Logan and the officers and men of the garrison, the Government officials, and many residents, while all the shops were closed. A monument has since been raised at Whanganui in memory of the friendly Maori who fell at Moutoa.
Note.—It is pleasant to record that this signal service on the part of the Whanganui did not go unrecognised at the time, nor has posterity been allowed to forget it. The bodies of the dead chiefs were brought into Whanganui on the day following the battle, and accorded a military funeral, which was attended by Colonel Logan and the officers and men of the garrison, the Government officials, and many residents, while all the shops were closed. A monument has since been raised at Whanganui in memory of the friendly Maori who fell at Moutoa.
FOOTNOTES:[68]Pai Mariremeans "Good and Peaceful."
[68]Pai Mariremeans "Good and Peaceful."
[68]Pai Mariremeans "Good and Peaceful."
CHAPTER XXV
MURDER MOST FOUL
The year 1865 was full of incident. Fifteen years had gone by since Russell had bewailed the choice of Auckland as the capital, since Wellington had stormily asserted her right of elder birth, since men here and there with nothing better to suggest had demanded petulantly, "Why should it be Auckland, any way?" It was now Auckland's turn to lament; for, in the opinion of those qualified to judge, the central position of Wellington justified the transference thither of the seat of Government.
There is no way yet discovered of pleasing everybody; but, in order that the choice might be strictly impartial, the Governors of New South Wales, Victoria, and Tasmania were requested to decide upon the best site for the capital, while they were given to understand that the spot selected must be somewhere on the shores of Cook Strait, that being the geographical centre of the colony.
The Governors inspected the region without prejudice in favour of existing towns, and unanimously decided that "Wellington, in Port Nicholson, was the site upon the shores of Cook Strait whichpresented the greatest advantages for the administration of the government of the colony." No method of selection could have been more just, and in February, 1865, the seat of Government was removed from Auckland to Wellington.
The second notable event—the third in order of sequence—was the surrender of the celebrated Waikato chief, Wiremu Tamihana Te Waharoa (William Thompson), whose persistent energy had put so much heart into the insurgents. With his submission the Waikato war proper ended, and this although many Waikato joined the Hauhau movement. The conflict was not over; but the Waikato as a tribe withdrew from it. Some of their land had been confiscated, they had got the worst of the fight, and, though they still clung to their principles regarding the sale of land and the establishment of a Maori dynasty, they now acknowledged the might of the Government to be something beyond their power to overthrow.
The submission of Wiremu Tamihana influenced not the wild fanatics who were being recruited from almost every tribe of note in the North Island, and whose expressed determination it was to drive the Pakeha Rat into the sea. They would fight and die for Maoriland, if need be; but they would never give in. Not all of them believed the horrible creed which Te Ua had invented; but even these were content to be classed as Hauhau, if so they might help to free their country from the domination of the Pakeha.
"Good wine needs no bush," and if ever a causewas spoiled by the character and behaviour of its adherents, it was this; if ever a body of men in arms in the sacred name of patriotism earned, and rightly earned, the detestation and vengeance of their foes, the Hauhau did so at the beginning, in the middle and at the end of their war. The very Maori loathed their name and character, and these, concerned for the honour of their race, fought as strenuously against their degraded countrymen as did the whites with whom they were allied.
Between February, when Wellington became the capital, and June the 17th, when Wiremu Tamihana surrendered, an innocent missionary was murdered by his own flock under circumstances which served to show that, even at that late day, there were Maori who required but little persuasion to induce them to slip back into the pit of savagery out of which they had, it was hoped, climbed for all time.
The Church of England Mission Station at Opotiki (Bay of Plenty) had been for some years presided over by the Rev. C.S. Voelkner, an energetic and successful missionary. His station was among some of the wildest, least civilised tribes of the Maori; but his devotion had gained him the respect, and even the goodwill, of the fierce, untamed fellows in whose midst he dwelt.
When the war rolled almost to his door, Mr. Voelkner judged it wise to take his wife to Auckland; but he himself came backwards and forwards to the disturbed district. In February, during the missionary's absence, Opotiki was visited by two prophets, Patara of the Taranaki, and Kereopa ofthe Ngati-Porou, with a number of Taranaki Hauhau at their heels. The Whakatohea were ripe for any mischief as it was, and readily embraced the new creed, their conversion being accompanied by much revolting ritual.
Feeling already ran high against the absent missionary, the Whakatohea having allowed themselves to be persuaded that he was hostile to the Maori cause, and desirous of breaking up the tribes.
Patara, who cannot have been all bad, wrote warning Mr. Voelkner not to return to Opotiki; but the missionary unfortunately arrived on the very next day, in a schooner, accompanied by a colleague, the Rev. Mr. Grace.
Mr. Voelkner was at once informed that he was to be killed, but refused to believe that the people among whom he had laboured would prove false to his teaching. A few hearts were softened towards him; but Kereopa would brook neither denial nor delay, and on the following day took out Mr. Voelkner and hanged him upon a willow-tree, shooting him through the body before life was extinct. The fierce Hauhau then swallowed the eyes and drank the blood of his victim.
Mr. Grace was in great danger; for the fanatics, having literally tasted blood, clamoured for more. For fourteen days the unfortunate man endured agonies of suspense, and his relief must have been intense when H.M.S.Eclipseappeared outside the bar. Owing to Patara's influence, the missionary was free to wander within the boundaries of the Opotiki plain, and this circumstance, along with theabsence of most of the Hauhau at a feast, helped to effect his escape.
As he was watching the crew of the schooner shifting cargo, one of the sailors murmured, "Go down to the point, and we will get you off." Mr. Grace obeyed with assumed carelessness, and a moment later was in the schooner's boat, speeding towards theEclipse. Two of the boats from the man-of-war dashed up the river immediately afterwards and towed the schooner over the bar, when no time was lost in leaving Opotiki of tragic memory.
Three months later the ruffians at Opotiki again drenched themselves with blood, murdering the crew of a cutter and Mr. Fulloon, a Government agent, who was on board as a passenger. Mr. Fulloon was a Maori of distinguished lineage on his mother's side; but, nevertheless, at the order of Horomona, the Hauhau, one Kirimangu shot the poor man while asleep with his own revolver. Kirimangu was captured and hanged; but Kereopa managed to evade his doom for seven years, when justice, long disappointed, made sure of him.
Kereopa and his Hauhau were not allowed to pursue their wicked way unchecked. As soon as they could be spared from Whanganui, five hundred men of the Military Settlers, the Bush Rangers, the Native Contingent, and the Whanganui Yeomen Cavalry were ordered to Opotiki, under Majors Brassey and McDonnell, the latter of whom could effect things with the Native Contingent which few other officers could bring about. Not only was McDonnell familiar with the Maori, but he knewtheir language and their country, so that he met them on their own ground in their own manner. He was brave to rashness, but this was hardly a fault in Maori eyes.
The column accomplished some good, and captured Moko Moko and Hakaraia, who were immediately informed that they could not be treated as prisoners of war, but would be tried for the murder of Mr. Voelkner, in which they had been concerned. After a good deal of successful skirmishing, the force returned to Whanganui, their chief casualty occurring on the way.
The mate of the transport loaded a small cannon for the amusement of some friendlies, but the gun would not "go off," whereupon the searchers after entertainment peeped inquiringly down the muzzle. The humoursome cannon chose that particular moment to indulge in a belated explosion, which fortunately did no more than wound the mate and two of the Maori. The outcome of the accident was the refusal of the Native Contingent to proceed after so evil an omen.
The superstitious fellows actually surrounded the capstan and prevented the weighing of the anchor, until one of themselves, Lieutenant Wirihana, an exceptionally strong man and one of the best officers in the contingent, swung the ringleader up in his arms and made to heave him overboard. A round dozen of the offender's relatives rushed the officer, and even then with difficulty prevented disaster to their cousin.
Kereopa, tired of dodging about the region roundOpotiki, struck across country for Poverty Bay, preaching his perverted gospel as he went. Behind him followed Patara, intent to prevent his fellow-prophet from too free an indulgence in his lust for blood. Patara more than suspected his colleague of an intention to murder Bishop Williams, and this he was determined not to allow. Kereopa had good ground in which to sow his evil seed, yet many of the leading chiefs among the Ngati-Porou not only refused to join him, but requested the Government to supply them with firearms, so that they might adequately deal with the monster. The request was sensibly granted, and Ropata and his chiefs kept the Hauhau busy until the arrival of Captain Fraser and his colonials.
Ropata showed the manner of man he was in the fights which followed. A dozen of his own sub-tribe (Aowera, of theiwiof Ngati-Porou) had been taken, fighting among the Hauhau. Ropata set them before him in a row and said, more in sorrow than in anger, "This is my word to you, O foolish children. You are about to die. I do not kill you because you fought against me, but because you disobeyed my orders and joined the Hauhau." He then shot every man of the twelve with his own hand.
Like master, like man. On one occasion a couple of fleeing Hauhau encountered one of Ropata's dispatch-bearers and, delighted to make a capture, haled him in the direction of Patara's camp. But they had caught a Tartar, though they were left little time to realise it. Ropata's man, with every sense alert, noticed that thetuparacarried by one of hiscaptors was capped and cocked. Assuming the gun to be loaded, the prisoner suddenly snatched it, wheeled like lightning and shot the other guard. Number one could, of course, make no resistance, and was almost immediately shot dead with the second barrel of his own gun. The cleverness of the prisoner in first shooting the armed guard illustrates very well the quick-wittedness of the average Maori.
In September, Sir George Grey formally proclaimed that the war which had begun at the time of the murders at Oakura was at an end, and that, the rebels having been punished enough by their disasters in the field and the confiscation of part of their lands, he pardoned all who had taken up arms, save those responsible for certain murders. The Governor further announced that he would confiscate no more lands on account of the war, and that he would release all prisoners as soon as the rebels should return in peace to their homes. The proclamation gave great offence to numbers of colonists, who jeered at the idea of peace while so many Maori were in arms; but Sir George Grey's statement that "the war was at an end" had no reference to the Hauhau, neither were they included in his pardon—unless, indeed, they chose promptly to submit, which they did not.
The Hauhau on the west coast made clear their decision in a most atrocious fashion. The Governor dispatched the proclamation to Patea, near Whanganui, by a Maori, who was shot, but lived long enough to warn the Government interpreter, Mr.Broughton, who was coming up behind him, to put no trust in the Hauhau.
Mr. Broughton was doubly deceived. He believed in his own influence over the Maori, and he was quite unaware that the Hauhau were predetermined to kill any messengers bringing overtures of peace. Their treachery went further; for, in order to be sure of a victim, they had begged that an interpreter might be sent to explain to them certain passages in the Governor's message which they professed not to understand.
After such a beginning, the end was inevitable, should Mr. Broughton persist in delivering himself into the power of the Hauhau. And this, deaf to advice and persuasion, he did. Three Hauhau came out from thepato meet him when he arrived on the 30th of September, and even then he was offered a last chance of escape; for one of the three had formerly been in his service, and now implored his old master not to trust himself within thepa. Mr. Broughton persisted, and was received in sullen silence. Striving to seem unconcerned, he took no notice of the incivility, and moved towards a fire which was burning in themarae. As he reached it, a Hauhau shot him in the back, and the poor man fell dying into the blaze, where he lay until some of his murderers pulled him out and flung him, still alive, over the cliff into the Patea.
The hatred of the Hauhau for the Pakeha was intense, and their attitude to the whites differed completely from that of the Maori in previous wars. They seemed to be obsessed with evil spirits, whosemission was to promote in their victims a lust for blood and a disposition for cruelty of the most appalling kind. They were as men who had swallowed a drug having power to kill goodness and purity and generosity, and to fill the soul in their stead with malice, hatred and vices too degrading to be named.
It was fortunate for New Zealand that the evil seed which Te Ua sowed fell only here and there on soil whence it sprang rank and poisonous as the deadly upas tree; for, had it taken root universally, there is no saying at what bitter cost the colonists must have weeded it out. But, though almost every tribe in the north sent its recruits to the fanatics, there yet remained in most of them a remnant who refused "to bow the knee to Baal," and who, if they did not fight for the Pakeha, at least gave no aid to the Hauhau.
CHAPTER XXVI
ALARMS! EXCURSIONS!
Though the war occupied her supreme attention, it must not be supposed that New Zealand stood still. The plucky little daughter of Great Britain kept her eyes open and, though her hands were reasonably full of swords and guns, found other work for them to do. June, 1866, saw the commencement of a mail service to Panama, which vastly accelerated communication with the northern hemisphere; and, before August was out, the Government had laid a submarine cable across Cook Strait, bringing the extreme north of the North Island and the extreme south of the Middle Island within a few minutes of one another.
In October, 1867, the Board of Revenue rejoiced at the passing of an Act imposing stamp duties; the scholarly and aesthetic were gladdened by another Act which provided for an institute for the promotion of Science and Art in the colony; and, lastly, the Maori were rendered happy by an Act which, while it showed great wisdom, proved conclusively the desire of the British Pakeha to deal in most generous spirit with their native fellow-subjects. This Act provided for the division of the colony into fourMaori electorates, and the admission of four Maori members to the House of Representatives. When it is remembered that a large number of the native population were at the very moment in arms against the State, the lavish generosity of this measure must excite profound admiration.
The intellectual and high-minded Maori were quick to learn, and as quick to put in practice the knowledge they acquired. From the first, although they quarrelled with them, they admired the Pakeha and recognised their superiority. Indeed, but for their ruling passion, they would probably have much earlier amalgamated with the whites. This, as we have seen, was their attachment to their land, which they regarded as sacrosanct and inalienable; and from this Naboth-like devotion sprang much of the trouble between them and the Pakeha.
The theatre of war having shifted again to the west coast, General Chute took command on the retirement of General Cameron. There was nothing of Fabius in General Chute, who was accustomed to follow up as speedily as possible whatever advantage he might gain.Quot homines, tot sententiae; so many men, so many ways of doing things; and it is just as well. Had General Chute commanded from the first, the war might have been sooner over; but there would never have arisen the need for the colonists to take their own part, and they must have been much longer in learning their good qualities of strength and self-reliance.
Throughout January, 1866, General Chute with his regulars, colonials and the Maori contingentpunished the Hauhau, who had learned by painful experience that they were not invulnerable. He beat them at Okotuku, and chased them out of Putahi, where Major McDonnell was so severely wounded in the foot as to be rendered unfit for active work during the remainder of the campaign. Yet, so indispensable was the Major because of his immense influence with the Maori, that, despite his suffering, he remained with the force lest, finding him absent, his men should march off home until their leader was able to rejoin them.
Notwithstanding the experiences of others in the not very remote past, General Chute determined to assault the well-garrisonedpaof Otapawa, and on the 12th of January the Armstrong gun roared a challenge to the Hauhau. Grimly silent, the defenders kept so strictly to cover, that General Chute, half-inclined to believe that they had escaped, thought it unnecessary to wait until the Native Contingent and volunteers (kupapa) had worked completely round to the rear. So he ordered Colonel Butler and his "Die Hards" (57th), supported by the 14th, to storm the stockade.
He had barely finished speaking when he received a practical hint that thepawas not empty; for a bullet carried away one of the buttons of his tunic. "Aha! The beggars seem to have found me out," General Chute coolly observed. "Go on, Colonel Butler."
Colonel Butler went on, Lieutenant-Colonel Hassard beside him, and the "Die Hards" close behind them. The Hauhau had removed everyvestige of cover from the front of thepa—which fact alone should have warned the General that the place was occupied, and by a skilful foe—and, as the 57th came on, they were greeted with a volley from the covered rifle-pits which staggered them, veterans of Sebastopol though they were.
"Come on, Die Hards!" shouted Colonel Butler, and the gallant fellows charged over the glacis, dropping fast and losing Colonel Hassard on the way. Enraged, the men tore down the palisades with their bare hands and drove the enemy helter-skelter out at the rear of thepainto the clutch of Von Tempsky and his Forest Rangers. Thirty-two of the Hauhau fell, while General Chute lost a colonel and eleven men, not to speak of twenty wounded. A little patience, siege instead of assault, and the stronghold might have been reduced without loss. As it is, the action is memorable as being the only occasion during these wars upon which a well-defendedpawas ever taken by assault.
Whereas General Cameron would never go near the bush, General Chute now determined to march through it a distance of sixty miles to Taranaki, and sweep the enemy out of his path. But General Cameron despised the native levies, while General Chute realised their value, particularly when led by such a man as Major McDonnell, and it cannot be gainsaid that their presence greatly contributed to the success of the bush march.
But for McDonnell and another, General Chute must either have chosen another route, or have marched without the Native Contingent, for theMaori, men of the Whanganui district, decided not to go to Taranaki, alleging that "it was too far from home!" Nor would they have yielded either to advice or persuasion, but for the timely arrival in camp of Major McDonnell and Dr. Featherston, the Superintendent of the Wellington Province, who, like the major, exercised unbounded influence over the Maori, and particularly over the men of Whanganui.
These two, upon whom the fortunes of the Colony more than once depended, summoned to their tent the aged paramount chief, Hori Kingi Te Anaua, and bluntly asked him whether the friendship which had for years existed between him and Dr. Featherston was to be broken. The old man looked for a long time in silence at his questioners, and then left the tent without a word. His voice presently reached them as he addressed the crowd of Maori thronging there to learn the result of the interview:—
"Listen, you who have refused to march with the Pakeha. This is my word to you. I will go with them, though I go alone. But hearken! If you desert me and them, never more will I dwell with you in Whanganui. I have spoken!"
There was a moment of silence, and then the words of the old lion-heart prevailed and yells of "Kapai! Kapai!" were blent with shouts of "We will go! We will go!" The situation was saved; General Chute marched through the bush in nine days (January 17th to 25th) skirmishing as he went, reached Taranaki, and the campaign came to an end.With it practically ended the employment of the regular forces in New Zealand, as far as active service went.
How valuable was the aid which the friendly Maori gave is illustrated by the following incident, related by Lieutenant Gudgeon in his reminiscences.
At the close of General Chute's operations a detachment of the Native Contingent stationed at Pipiriki, a most picturesque spot on the upper Whanganui, made themselves so agreeable to the rebels, that the Hauhau chief, Pehi Turoa, invited the friendlies to meet him at Mangaio and discuss the situation. Some four hundred accepted the invitation and, led by their chief, Mete Kingi, went up-stream in their beautiful canoes to the conference.
As they neared the rebelpa, Mete Kingi said characteristically, "Once these men were Whanganui like ourselves, and then they were good; but no faith can now be placed in them. For who would trust the word of a Hauhau? You know, my children, it is Maori etiquette to show confidence in your hosts; therefore, fire off your guns, that they may see our faith in them; but load them as quickly and quietly as you can, in case they mean us harm."
So said, so done. The Whanganui discharged their guns with deafening clatter and, before they landed, unobtrusively reloaded them. There was fortunately no breach of faith, and the upshot of the conference was that the contracting parties swore to maintain an eternal peace on the Whanganui river, but reserved the right to fight in any other part of New Zealand. Thus, entirely in their own manner,did the friendly Whanganui bring peace to an important district, long convulsed with war.
McDonnell, now colonel, continued operations on the west coast, particularly against the Nga-Ruahini, one of whose chiefs, Titokowaru, then and afterwards gave much trouble. The colonel was very successful, and the Hauhau learned that his methods were not those of the military, for he employed their own tricks against them. One of their captured chiefs grumblingly said to him, "We thought that we were fighting a man; but we find that he is a rat, who moves only by night." "Nay, O Toi, you thought that you were fighting soldiers," returned McDonnell, probably with unintentional sarcasm, "whereas you find that we are Pakeha Maori."
The war swung round to the east, and the Province of Hawke's Bay, hitherto almost immune from "alarms and excursions," found itself in the thick of it. The Ngati-Hineuru and other tribes had joined the new sect; but, when they broke out, the Superintendent, Sir Donald McLean, was ready for them. With the help of Colonel Whitmore, Major Fraser and Captain Gordon with his volunteer cavalry, he stamped out the spreading flame, and Hawke's Bay once more grew calm after its brief flurry.
The year 1867 was for some reason styled by the Hauhau "the Year of the Lamb," that is, of peace, and, save for a skirmish or two, and some fell murders here and there in true Hauhau style, they remained quiet They were terrible folk, and their behaviour differed unpleasantly from that of the ordinary Maoriin time of war; but some of them had not altogether lost that simplicity which, despite their intelligence, is characteristic of the race.
For instance, having declared the year to be one of peace, they failed to understand why their confiscated lands should not be restored to them. Some, too, observing that the friendly Maori were rewarded with pensions and land, complained that they were omitted, when they also had fought (against the Pakeha!) much as a child grumbles because he does not receive a prize for his misdirected efforts. One Hauhau gentleman did actually apply to the Commissioner for a pension, and was mortally offended when the great man dismissed him in terms more forcible than polite.
The hopes raised by all this talk of peace were falsified, not only by the activity of Titokowaru and his Nga-Ruahini, but by the sudden and quite unexpected appearance of a man who was destined to set the country ablaze, and to incur the bitter execration of thousands in the war-worn North Island.
CHAPTER XXVII
POVERTY BAY
During 1866 the New Zealand Government had deported a batch of political prisoners to the Chatham Islands. Amongst them was one Te Kooti, whose offence was said to be that, while ostensibly in alliance with the Pakeha, he had acted as a spy for the Hauhau. Te Kooti then and ever afterwards denied this charge, averring that he was at the time mentioned one hundred miles away from either belligerent. This denial has never been accepted, and most people frankly regret that Te Kooti was not hanged out of hand. This would certainly have prevented many hideous outrages; but to punish in anticipation of proof, however satisfactory, is not yet the Briton's way. So Te Kooti was deported to Chatham Island, there to eat out his heart in longing for the day when he should be able to repay the Pakeha an hundredfold for the insults and injustice (according to him) which had been inflicted upon him.
Te Kooti was a clever man, and his wits had been sharpened by much intercourse with the whites, so it was natural that he should scheme and plan ways ofescape from a hateful bondage, and means to deal a return blow to the detested Pakeha.
He found and seized his opportunity when the schoonerRiflemanvisited the island with stores; for he engineered a mutiny, out-generalled Captain Thomas, R.N., the Governor, seized the schooner and sailed on the 4th of July, 1868, for New Zealand. To obviate pursuit he set adrift a ketch, the only vessel the authorities owned, and with consummate cleverness spared the lives of the crew of the schooner on condition that they navigated her to Poverty Bay. The voyage passed without incident, save that Te Kooti strove, during a spell of contrary weather, to propitiate the wind-god by the sacrifice of his aged uncle, whom he callously cast overboard.
On the 10th of July theRiflemanarrived at Whareongaonga, a point some fifteen miles south of Poverty Bay, and here the prisoners disembarked and, after looting the vessel of her cargo, arms and ammunition, set free the crew. The successful plotter then struck inland, marching, so he said, upon Waikato, there to dethrone the king, with whose conduct he professed himself dissatisfied.
News of his arrival had spread, and a mixed company of whites and friendlies under Captain Westrupp set off in chase of him, encountering him on the 20th at Paparatu. After a fight lasting all day, Te Kooti surrounded his opponents and forced them to retire with the loss of their horses, baggage and ammunition, while their casualties were two killed and ten wounded.
Colonel Whitmore at once organised the pursuit,but it was the 8th of August before he came up with Te Kooti, to whose standard more Hauhau had flocked, and who had chosen a strong position in the gorge of the Ruake Ture river, about twenty miles due west of Poverty Bay.
Colonel Whitmore had only one hundred and thirty tired and not too contented men with whom to do battle against over two hundred well-armed warriors; but his courage took no more heed of this than it had taken of the difficulties of the pursuit, which had been through country the nature of which it is hard for the untravelled Briton to imagine.
When the column struck Te Kooti's last camp, where the fires were still burning, the track led thence along the bed of the river between high cliffs, which were fortunately not occupied by the foe. Heartened by the knowledge that they were at last to come to grips with the wily fellows they had held in dreary chase for nearly three weeks, the column went cheerfully forward, and in time came where the track left the river and climbed through a gap in the cliffs into the hills. There the advance was suddenly checked by a volley which had no worse effect than to send the men scurrying to cover, whence they replied to the concealed enemy, who were nearer than they supposed.
Each side fired as the chance came. Some one fell back dead and the nearest man to him shouted down the line, "Captain Carr's gone," and himself fell dead. Mr. Canning, a volunteer, had dodged behind the trunk of a fallen tree and, anxious for opportunity, peeped cautiously over the great bole,seeking a target. He was instantly shot dead by some Hauhau who were lurking, quite unsuspected, on the other side of the tree. Two other men fell, and then the advanced guard retired on the main body, who had meantime been deserted by a number of lukewarm Maori volunteers, while some of the Pakeha were themselves in retreat. To make matters worse it poured with rain, and it was but a remnant of the column which that night reached the bivouac at Reinga, some miles down the river. It was well for them that Te Kooti, wounded in the foot, could not pursue.
The victorious Hauhau encamped at Puketapu, hard by the scene of the fight, and thence sent his runners all over the island, calling on the tribes to join him, and announcing himself the chosen of God to sweep the Pakeha into the sea. The worst of it was, the road to Poverty Bay was now practically open to the Hauhau chief, who was already breathing out threatenings and slaughter against the people there, some of whom had been chiefly instrumental in procuring his deportation to Chatham Island.
It was nobrutum fulmenthat Te Kooti launched against the settlement, though, strange to say, both Major Biggs, in charge there, and other leading men, imperfectly realised the imminence of their danger. Biggs even dissuaded the settlers from building a strong blockhouse for a rendezvous, assuring them that there was no reason for alarm, since his scouts would surely give him twenty-four hours' notice of any projected attack. He actually laughed at themfor their vigilance in watching the various fords of the Waipoa river and, as the Anglo-Saxon is extremely sensitive to ridicule, this very sensible precaution was dropped. The ford to which they had given particular attention was that at Patutahi, and there it was where Te Kooti presently crossed the stream.
Te Kooti, who maintained an iron discipline in camp and field, had by this time received numbers of recruits from the fierce Uriwera and other tribes in the locality, as well as promises of support from some at a distance. Leaving his main body in camp, he now swept down upon the plains with a chosen band of ruffians, and before the 10th of November had well begun, scattered his rascals in various directions over the settlement of Turanga, or Poverty Bay.
Mr. Butters, a wool-presser, rode up at dawn to the station of Messrs. Dodd and Peppard, where he was engaged to work, and to his horror found the two men dead upon their own threshold, while the shepherd had disappeared—he, too, had been killed.
"The raid is come. Te Kooti is upon us!" thought Mr. Butters and, instead of hurrying out of the district into safety, he went at racing speed to the mission at Waerenga-a-hika, warned the inmates, and then galloped from station to station, bearing his terrible news. He was riding all the time through the very midst of the scattered Hauhau, carrying his life in his hand and, had he worn a uniform, must have gained the cross "For Valour." As it was, he had for reward the consciousness of agood deed well done, and the knowledge that he had saved some lives by risking his own.
alarm
Butters gives the alarm—Poverty Bay
Some few he found alert and forearmed; others he advised in time, and some he was too late to help, as when, on riding up to one homestead, he saw outside the door the bodies of the proprietor, his wife and their baby. Knowing that here he could do no good, Butters thundered past the desolated hearth with averted face.
The Hauhau had already occupied Major Biggs's place as Butters drew near, and were dancing and yelling like fiends incarnate. The would-be saviour galloped on, sadly thinking, no doubt, that, if the poor major had consented to be wise in time, all this trouble might have been averted. Biggs had indeed paid the heaviest price for his rashness, and his last moments must have been embittered by the knowledge of the fate of those whom he had actually dissuaded from timely action in their own defence.
He met his end like a man. The natives' account of his death—the only one available—says that when the Hauhau knocked at his door he was still up, writing. Recognising that the danger he had held so lightly had come upon them, he called out to his wife to escape by the back, which she refused to do. In a few seconds more, husband, wife, child and servant lay dead, the only survivor being a hired boy, James, who escaped and joined his mother, who, with her eight children, narrowly managed to make her way to safety.
While all this horror was in progress in one direction the settlers in another, near the Patutahiford, were warned by one of their number, who had lain awake from dawn listening to the distant firing, the meaning of which he did not apprehend until himself warned by a friendly Maori. It was here that the Hauhau had crossed the river, but refrained from doing mischief, as their leader wished to keep the murder of Mr. Wylie, one of the settlers there, as a sweet morsel for the finish. For Wylie was the man principally concerned in Te Kooti's deportation, and the fierce Hauhau had vowed that he would cut the Pakeha to pieces inch by inch, Chinese fashion. Their neighbour's warning saved Wylie and the rest, and they had gained safety before Te Kooti could overtake them.
Benson, a settler who also did good service that day in warning others, had himself the narrowest escape. As he rode home through the night, before the murders had begun, he suddenly found himself in the very midst of the Hauhau who had just crossed the ford. Supposing them to be friendlies, he spoke a word of greeting and passed through them on his way. Many a gun was pointed at him, and the savage fanatics ground their teeth with rage at losing a victim; for they dared not spoil their chance of a general massacre by the premature murder of a solitary settler.
Captain Wilson, besieged within a burning house, surrendered to the Hauhau on their promise that he and his should be spared. No sooner were the unfortunates outside, than Captain Wilson was shot, his man tomahawked and his wife and children bayoneted, save one little boy, who crawled from hisdying father's arms and escaped into the scrub. The poor little fellow wandered about for days and at last found himself at the ruins of his home, where he discovered his mother, sorely wounded, but alive, in an outhouse.
A week later, when the Hauhau had departed and burial parties were searching for the dead, the two were found, the dying woman having been kept in life by the efforts of her baby son, who had stolen out nightly and foraged for food. Poor Mrs. Wilson was carried to Napier, where she died, leaving the doubly-orphaned little boy the sole survivor of the family.
Thus did Te Kooti revenge himself upon those whom he deemed the cause of his banishment. But he had gone too far; for above the cry of horror which went up all over the island when the dismal news of the massacre[69]spread, was heard the stern oath of strong men, who vowed they would not rest until they had cleared the earth of this blood-soaked savage and his gang of murderers.
FOOTNOTES:[69]Thirty-two Europeans were killed, men, women, and children.
[69]Thirty-two Europeans were killed, men, women, and children.
[69]Thirty-two Europeans were killed, men, women, and children.
CHAPTER XXVIII
THE LAST RALLY
The quality of massacre was absent in the west—less, perhaps, from choice than for lack of opportunity—but matters were not going as well as could be desired. There had been a change of governors, Sir George Grey having given place after more than seven years of anxious rule to Sir George Bowen, G.C.M.G. Bishop Selwyn, too, had left the country he had served so long and well; but to the troubled, wearied colonists, it seemed that governors might come and governors might go, and even bishops, but the war would go on for ever. For, while Te Kooti was snarling and ravening in the east, McDonnell's star, so long in the ascendant, was declining in the west, and the Pakeha generally were being rather hardly used.
The "Year of the Lamb" had come to an end, and the Hauhau gave evidence of it by a triple murder,—three wholly inoffensive men, engaged in sawing wood in the bush, being slain and mutilated by them. Colonel McDonnell, foreseeing trouble, regarrisoned an old redoubt of the 14th Regiment at Turuturu Mokai with twenty-five men underSub-Inspector Ross of the Constabulary. At dawn, on the 12th of July, four times as many Hauhau attacked the place, and in the stern fight which ensued killed Ross and seven others. Titokowaru would have made a clean sweep of the luckless twenty-five but for the timely arrival of Von Tempsky and his men from Waihi, less than three miles away, whence the flashes of the guns had been seen, though their reports could not be heard.
McDonnell, tired of incessant skirmishing, determined to make a raid which should yield a decisive result one way or the other, and fixed the night of the 6th of September for his attempt. The friendly Whanganui strongly objected to move at that particular time, owing to an unfavourable augury by theirtohungaand, as it happened, their hesitation received curious justification. But McDonnell was not one to be turned aside from his purpose by augurs or omens, and the expedition left Waihi at midnight and plunged into the bush. Nobody seems to have had any clear idea of the whereabouts of Titokowaru, so the old method was adopted of moving through the bush until a beaten track was struck, and then following it whithersoever it led. This system had been tried upon former occasions with good results; but it was destined this time to fail.
At daybreak on the 7th the column was somewhere on the western slope of Mount Egmont where, after the forenoon had been spent in wandering about, a beaten trail was struck and followed during the afternoon in the direction of the sea. Eveningwas approaching when a scout who had climbed a tall tree discovered the Hauhaupanot more than half a mile away. Major Kepa (Kemp), one of the best officers among the allies, strongly urged delay and an attack in force on the morrow; but McDonnell, fearful of losing his prey, determined to go on and take them and their fort by surprise.
This plan was spoiled by a woman who, perceiving the advance, ran shrieking an alarm, and McDonnell was then informed by the friendlies that the place ahead of them was the strongly-fortified, well-garrisoned Ngutu-o-te-Manu. The colonel at once ordered Kepa and Von Tempsky to move in opposite directions, so as to surround thepa; but this they were not allowed to attempt with impunity. The Hauhau, taught by many bitter experiences, had learned that it was no longer safe to wait behind their defences, however formidable, and greatly amazed the allied leaders by leaving thepaand fighting in the bush. Dr. Best, Lieutenant Rowan and a number of Von Tempsky's command fell almost at once, while McDonnell on the opposite side of the clearing had no better fortune, losing Captain Page, Lieutenants Hunter and Hastings and so many of his rank and file, that he judged it wise to retire with his wounded while he could.
He therefore sent his brother, Captain McDonnell, to bring off Kepa and Von Tempsky; but the latter strongly objected to retire, and talked of an assault on thepa. Captain McDonnell urged the unusual strength of the place; but Von Tempsky, still incredulous, stepped into the clearing to get a betterview of the position, and was instantly shot dead. Captain Buck (late of the 14th Regiment), Von Tempsky's second in command, anxious that the body of so good an officer should not suffer insult and mutilation, exposed himself in the effort to lift the dead man, and was himself instantly killed. The men, bewildered by the loss of their leaders, fell back and joined Captain Roberts, who had not heard of the order to retire, and remained where he was until sunset, when he also moved off towards the sea. On the way Sergeant Russell dropped to the ground with a smashed thigh and, dreadful as it was to do, his comrades, having no means of carrying him off, placed a revolver in his hand and left him to his fate.
In anguish of mind and body the poor fellow lay there for some time, till the Hauhau, realising that they had beaten off the attack, came hurrying along the track in pursuit. At sight of Russell helpless there, one of them ran gleefully forward with upraised tomahawk, only to receive a bullet in his brain from the brave sergeant's revolver. After that the rest circumspectly shot the lonely cripple from a safe distance and rushed on the trail of his comrades.
McDonnell was under fire the whole way through the bush until darkness fell, and when at last he reached Waihi with his broken and dispirited column, it was to find that nothing had been heard of Captain Roberts and his contingent, nor did these reach camp until the 8th had dawned.
One-fifth of the men engaged had fallen, the total casualties of the disastrous affair being onemajor, two captains, two lieutenants, a sergeant and eighteen men killed, and twenty-six wounded. The final result was a blaze of anger against McDonnell, during which those who should have known better forgot his eminent services and used so bitter and unjust words that the colonel resigned the chief command into the hands of Colonel Whitmore.
Thus were the Nga-Ruanui under Titokowaru successful to an extent which caused the gravest apprehension among the colonists, while the friendly Whanganui retired to their homes. For they knew of Te Kooti's success on the east, and now, when the colonial troops evacuated all the advanced posts and fell back upon Patea before Titokowaru's formidable force, it seemed to them that the long-impending doom of the Pakeha was about to fall at last.
Whitmore had at first no better success; for, when storming the defences of Motorua on the 7th of November, he was repulsed with the heavy loss of nineteen killed and twenty wounded, Major Hunter being among the dead. The gallant colonel then fell back upon Nukumaru and, on the news of the massacre at Poverty Bay reaching Wellington, was ordered back to the east with every available man of his command.
The remainder of the year was filled by skirmishes between the friendly Maori and Te Kooti, who had more than one narrow escape, and who, unable to run because of the wound in his ankle, was on one occasion carried into safety upon a woman's back. But in January, 1869, he received a serious set-backwhen thepaof Ngatapa, in the Poverty Bay district, was taken after a siege of six days by Colonel Whitmore and Ropata with his men of the Ngati-Porou. Te Kooti again managed to escape; but he lost many of his fighting chiefs, nearly one hundred and fifty of his men and, more than all, his band was dispersed and pursued in all directions.
Back to the west went the energetic Colonel Whitmore, taking measures to deal with Titokowaru as he had dealt with Te Kooti, and found that the Rev. Mr. Whitely, Lieutenant and Mrs. Gascoigne and their three children had been murdered by Wetere and his Ngati-Maniapoto at White Cliffs, north of Taranaki. This was an entirely purposeless crime, and the Hauhau declared that it had been committed at the instigation of the king, Tawhaio.
After several skirmishes it was believed that the district close to Whanganui had been swept clear of the Hauhau; but tragic proof to the contrary was given on the 18th of February, in the neighbourhood of the Karaka camp, by the Waitotara river.
For many years past troops had marched and countermarched in the Whanganui district, and the soldiers, moving up or down the rivers, often amused themselves by throwing at objects on the shore the stones of the numberless peaches they ate. The banks of more than one stream were in consequence lined with peach trees, wild, perhaps, but producing fruit not to be rejected by campaigners.
How little thought the soldiers in their careless play, that they were sowing the seed not only ofpeach-trees, but of a tragedy which was to come to full fruit ten years later.
Yet so it was. On the afternoon of the 18th of February several field officers, visiting the camp, expressed a desire for some of the peaches which were growing in profusion on the opposite side of the Waitotara, and Sergeant Menzies, overhearing their talk, volunteered to go and get some of the fruit. Colonel McDonnell made no objection, and Menzies, taking with him nine men as a matter of precaution, crossed the river and set to work to fill a number of baskets with the ripe peaches.
Suddenly they were fired upon. The volley was so very heavy, so near and so totally unexpected, that the men were startled into bolting for their canoe instead of taking cover, and thus offered a fair mark to seventy Hauhau, who stood upon the bank and shot them down with ease, all save three, who succeeded in escaping. Their comrades, hearing the firing so close at hand, came up at the double, but too late to do more than receive the few survivors and discover some of the dead.
So the Hauhau scored once more; but a month later the scales dropped again, and Titokowaru, who was really a formidable leader, was beaten at Otauto and forced to ignominious flight. Another blow or two completely smashed this powerful chief and bold warrior, and then the pendulum of war swung sullenly back to the east, where Te Kooti had again shown his teeth and, wolf-like, worried his own kind as well as those of another colour.
It was pleasant for the colonists in all thisturmoil of war to learn that their industrial progress and rise into a position of political and social importance had not gone unmarked, and that their Queen was now to recognise their standing by sending her son to visit them. Great was the enthusiasm and fervid the welcome which the Flying Squadron received on the 12th of April as theGalateawith Commodore H.R.H. Prince Alfred of Edinburgh on board swept into Port Nicholson and boomed an answer to the thundering salute from the shore. Wherever the Duke appeared throughout the Australasian colonies he was well received; but nowhere with greater heartiness than in New Zealand. For the colonists there knew that they owed a debt of gratitude to the mother country—which to many of them was still "home"—and Britain's Queen was as loyally regarded as in her own sea-girt islands in the North.
As if the visit of Queen Victoria's son brought good augury of peace, Titokowaru was no more heard of, and Te Kooti gradually declined in power, until, harried on every side, he fled at last into the country of the Uriwera, the wildest and most savage tribe in New Zealand. Their country—in the mountainous peninsula between the Bay of Plenty and Poverty Bay—was as wild and savage as themselves, and afforded an almost inaccessible retreat to the Hauhau fugitives. But men like Whitmore and McDonnell, not to speak of Kepa Te Rangihiwinui and Ropata Wahawaha, were not to be dismayed by savagery, animate or inanimate, and Te Kooti was chased from point to point untileven his bold spirit began to quail, and he realised at last how terrible was the just anger of the Pakeha, slow to kindle, but inextinguishable by aught but the full satisfaction of righteous vengeance.
Te Kooti's day was not quite done. He was not rash, but by no means a coward, never hesitating to expose his person when necessary; yet he was seldom wounded, while his hairbreadth escapes from capture and from death itself seemed to justify the growl of his pursuers that "the devil took good care of his own."
On one occasion when hispahad been stormed and he was within an ace of being taken, he apparently fell over a cliff, and the men who were chasing him hurried themselves no further. But, when they reached the edge of the precipice and peered over, instead of a mangled body, they saw a rope of flax, down which the wily Hauhau had slid into safety.
On another occasion, under pretence of freeing a number of prisoners, he ordered them all to be disarmed, an order which every one recognised as preliminary to a general massacre—as it was. One bold fellow, standing almost within touch of the Hauhau leader, cried out, "This is to be done so that we may be the more easily killed. If I am to die, so shall you," and fired point-blank at his captor. As the hammer fell, a Hauhau struck up the muzzle of the gun; but if the Maori—whose fate was sealed in any case—had not drawn attention to his action by making a speech, he would have had Te Kooti's company on the road to Reinga, and theworld would have been the sooner rid of a murderous ruffian.
Strong in his luck, Te Kooti skirmished and fought his way out of the Uriwera country and marched across to Taupo, where he compelled the allegiance of Te Heu Heu, chief of the "Boiling Water" tribes. His great ambition was to capture to his side the powerful chiefs of Whanganui and Waikato, but his arrogance and overweening belief in his own superiority offended each in turn. Moreover, he alienated Topia Turoa, the great Whanganui chief by the causeless murder of a blood relation of the latter, which so angered Topia that he not only took the field against Te Kooti, but did him an even worse turn by using his influence with the Waikato against him.
The Waikato also had personal reasons for allowing Te Kooti to go to ruin unaccompanied by them. They had expressed themselves willing to receive a visit from him, but when he arrived with three hundred picked men, he gave himself such insufferable airs that many were disgusted, and the Waikato leaders made no haste to pay their respects until urged to do so by the great fighter, Rewi of the Ngati-Maniapoto.
They came at last, five hundred strong, bearing presents, to the place where Te Kooti and his three hundred champions awaited them. Then, either to show that he was prepared for treachery, or wishful to test their courage, or merely in an antic spirit, the Hauhau ordered his following to fire a volley with ball cartridge low over the heads of the Waikato.
The whistling of three hundred bullets past one's ears is a welcome easily improved upon, and the visitors, prepared for something very different, were startled into some undignified capers. Te Kooti had committed the stupidest error in lowering a proud folk in their own eyes, and their wrath blazed against him. Even friends might have been excused for taking exception to such a greeting, and these were men whose friendship was yet to be won. In vain Rewi pleaded; Te Heu Heu argued to the wind; the Waikato would have none of Te Kooti and, when he was soundly thrashed a little later by McDonnell at Te Pononga, even Rewi turned his back upon him. "The fellow is a humbug!" he declared to the delighted Waikato, who gleefully rejoined, "We told you so!"
McDonnell had with him men from the tribes of Whanganui, Taupo, Arawa and Ngati-Kahu-Ngunu (Hawke's Bay tribes). He had formed a plan for enticing Te Kooti into the open from hispaat Pourere; but this was spoiled by the chief of the Napier contingent, whose fears had been raised by histohunga, who declared the omens to be of the worst.
McDonnell, as has been said, had few equals in dealing with the Maori and, though naturally annoyed at the failure of his plan, soon made himself master of the situation.
Having quietly instructed his European officers and Kepa, he began by informing the Whanganui under Colonel Herrick that the Arawa had already started for thepa, and would, no doubt, be in itbefore them, whereupon the Whanganui sprang up and rushed forward, determined to be the first over the walls. Captain St. George had meantime told his Arawa a similar story, and they, seeing and hearing the truth of the statement, raced after the Whanganui, equally determined not to be second. McDonnell then went to the camp of Renata, the cause of all the bother, and enquired:
"Do you intend to refrain from fighting to-day on account of what thetohungasaid?"
"I certainly do," admitted Renata, who was a most conceited fellow. "Why do you ask?"
"Oh, it's nothing," answered McDonnell; "only Arawa and Whanganui are racing for thepa, and I am going after them." He turned as he spoke and hurried away.
"Hi! Stop! Colonel, stop!" shouted Renata; but McDonnell ran on. The chief's shout was changed in a moment to "Tatua! Tatua!" (To arms! To arms!), and he and his three hundred bounded towards thepa, intent upon outdoing, or, at least, not being outdone by either Arawa or Whanganui.
With such a hearty concentration of energy the result was certain and, after a sharp contest, in which Captain St. George fell, shot through the head, the friendlies surged over the defences and once more drove the Hauhau into headlong flight. Te Kooti escaped as usual, but was forced to run from the Taupo district, and again take refuge among the wild Uriwera. A further result was the defection of "Old Boiling Water" (Te Heu Heu) who came inand surrendered, complaining that Te Kooti had forced him to fight, as he forced all his prisoners.
Three months later, in January, 1870, Kepa Te Rangihiwinui with the Whanganui, and Ropata Wahawaha with his Ngati-Porou, started to hunt down Te Kooti. The colonials had now played their part and won their spurs, while some had gained the proud distinction of the New Zealand Cross, and one, at least, the Victoria Cross. It was felt that matters had reached a pass when the two skilful chiefs might well be trusted to finish up the long and troublesome affair of Te Kooti; for armed resistance had ceased everywhere, and the hostile Maori, if they showed no desire as yet to grasp the friendly hands held out to them by the Government, were at least convinced of the futility of further prolonging the war.
With Te Kooti the case was different. He was not a belligerent, but an outlaw and, had he been caught, would undoubtedly have been hanged, if only for his behaviour at Poverty Bay.
Kepa, starting in January, 1870, from the Bay of Plenty, moved south along the gorges of the Waimana to meet Ropata, who from Poverty Bay marched north upon Maunga Pohatu, about midway between the points of departure. Ropata fought and slew; Kepa, more diplomatic, made peace; but each in his fashion won the Uriwera tribes from Te Kooti, whom they kept continually upon the move, driving him from his last stronghold at Maraetahi, whence he escaped with only twenty men.
The last chase of all started from Poverty Bay inJune, 1871, four flying columns taking the route under Ropata, Captain Porter, Henare Potae, and Ruku Te Arutupu. The courage and endurance of the men were tried to the uttermost, for winter in the Uriwera Mountains, that beautiful, but terribly rough and savage country, was no light thing, and for a time the hunters had nothing but their trouble for their pains.
But the luck at last fell to Captain Porter, who was trailing along the northern end of Lake Waikare Moana (Sea of the Rippling Waters) in the dreadful heart of the Uriwera country, and there he came up with his man.
The excitement was tremendous, for they could look down from the range where they stood into the valley where they knew Te Kooti to be. A false step now, and all the toil and suffering would be wasted. Porter spent most of the raw winter night in stealing as close as he dared to the clearing, in the midst of which, in an oldwhare, Te Kooti slept, unconscious of his danger.
With the dawn, Henare Potae lay on the right of the clearing, Ruku Te Arutupu on the left, and Porter covered the centre. At a given time Ruku was to enter the clearing, call to the sleeping folk that they were surrounded, and summon them to surrender. If they refused, they were to be shot at once, while a particularly sharp lookout was to be kept for Te Kooti, who was to be allowed no chance whatever.
Quivering with excitement, the men breathlessly awaited the appearance of Ruku. All was quiet asdeath which loomed so near; but Ruku came not. Only an old woman issued from awhareand began to pick up sticks for her morning fire. Still Ruku did not show himself, and Porter grew impatient, stirring in his place.
Then he held still as a mouse; for from anotherwharecame a dog, stretching himself and yawning, who suddenly elevated a sensitive, inquisitive nose, snuffed the morning air and began to bark furiously, knowing, though his masters did not, that something was amiss. To him came out another woman, hushing him and staring about her; and those who knew whispered, "It is Olivia, Te Kooti's wife! He is there!"
Porter heard and trembled. He knew the excitability of his men, and dreaded lest the premature explosion of a rifle—as had so often happened—should warn the Hauhau of their proximity. So little would spoil so much. If his men should lose their heads—Oh,absit omen!
The dog whined and capered, Olivia stood, undecided, and in the hush Te Kooti's voice reached the watchers, "What ails the dog?" Olivia, after one more swift glance round, answered, "Nothing!"
More men now appeared, and they, too, cried "All is well!" Then came women, who set about preparing breakfast, one of them actually cutting chips from an enormous log, behind which six of Henare's men lay snug.
Then that which Porter had feared and prayed against happened. Two of the Maori loosed off their guns in their excitement, and the quiet scene in aninstant gave place to a wild turmoil—shouting men and screaming women all running this way and that as guns cracked and bullets wheeped and whined past their affrighted ears.
But Te Kooti was not there. He was not fool enough to come out and face the fusillade he knew would be directed against him. Not he. At the first sound of alarm he burst through the back of his hut, yelling "Sauve qui peut!" or its Maori equivalent, "Ko Ngati-Porou tenei kia whai morehu!" ("Ngati-Porou are here! Let survivors follow me!") Then, acting upon his own advice, he bolted like a deer, leaving Olivia alone to make her bow to the victors.
And that was the last of Te Kooti. For several months more Ropata hunted him without success, finding some consolation in the capture of Kereopa, Mr. Voelkner's murderer, who was hanged without undue waste of time. But of Te Kooti he got no glimpse; so, at last convinced that he had done all that mortal could do, and that Te Kooti as a fighting force was as good as dead, Ropata, the war-worn, went home with his Ngati-Porou, his honours thick upon him.
What became of Te Kooti no one seems to know. He simply disappeared, even as the yet more infamous Nana Sahib disappeared, leaving no trace. Some say that he steered his way across the Taupo district and hid himself in the King country; others aver that he was slain there by the Waikato whom he had insulted, others that he killed himself in despair, while some will have it that he got out ofa country which, except for the purpose of hanging him, was not particularly anxious to hold him. As a matter of fact, no one, whether Maori or Pakeha, has ever given a satisfactory answer to the question, "Where is Te Kooti?"
With the disappearance of the Hauhau leader vanished the last sign of active resistance against the might and rule of the Pakeha. Smiling faces were not yet everywhere; there were too many tears to be dried on both sides for that, and the passions of strong men do not cool in a day, even when strife has ceased. The conquerors, too, must learn to temper their exultation with sympathy, the conquered must accustom their necks to the yoke, and all these things take time. But the very fact, insisted upon above, that—the Hauhau movement apart—the war had been waged in generous spirit, hastened the period of cooling off, and on February the 2nd, 1872, Wiremu Kingi Te Rangitake, the chief of Waitara, visited New Plymouth (Taranaki) when tomahawk andmere,patu, andtuparawere buried, never again to be dug up. Three years later, on the 3rd of January, Tawhiao, the Maori King, shook the hand which Sir Donald McLean extended to him on behalf of the Government, and the last wintry clouds of discontent melted in the rays of the glorious sun of peace.
Never since then have the hands of the Maori been lifted against the Pakeha; ever since then have the Pakeha striven to make smooth the path of the Maori.
Once only appeared a little cloud, when a manwho throughout his life had advocated peace, was accused of fomenting war. Te Whiti was a Christian and a mystic, with more than his share of the keen Maori intelligence, a fine specimen of the Maori gentleman, and a man of immense influence in his tribe. He had taken no part in the great struggle, but, like Falkland, cried ever "Peace! Peace!" And when Titokowaru would have had him unite in smiting the Pakeha, he refused, nor would he allow his young men to join.
Yet this man came at last (in 1877) into collision with the Government over that old bone of contention, land. There was a dispute over the parcelling out of the Waimate Plains, and Te Whiti pulled up the pegs of the surveyors and ordered the workers off, as Te Rauparaha and Rangihaeata had done thirty-four years earlier. But there was no massacre, and when Te Whiti's men were sent to prison, the chief retaliated by ploughing up the grass lands of the white men.
"Put your hands to the plough!" Te Whiti cried. "Be not afraid if any come with swords and, if they smite, smite ye not again. Neither touch their goods nor steal their flocks and herds. My eye sees all of you, and I will punish the offender. Let the soldiers seize me, if they will. They may come, and I will gladly let them crucify me."
A fanatic? Yes; but of very different temper from his predecessors. As it happened, Te Whiti was in the right; but the soldiers, seventeen hundred of them, did come on the 5th of November, 1881, and invested Te Whiti'spaat Parihaka. Two hundredlittle children came out to them and danced a dance of welcome, and behind the children followed the mothers with five hundred loaves of bread for the soldiers. When matters had gone thus far, the Commissioner read the Riot Act and Te Whiti and his councillor Tohu were led away, unresisting, with handcuffs upon their wrists. And, as they went, they cried to their people, "Do not resist, even if the bayonet is at your breast."
Te Rauparaha and Rangihaeata stood up and defied Governor and Council after Wairau, threatening massacre. Te Whiti and Tohu, preaching peace, were chained and cast into prison for sixteen months. Then right and justice prevailed, and they were liberated in February, 1883, and given reserves of land. Te Whiti lived until November, 1907, in prosperity with his people at Parihaka, enjoying that peace which he had always done his best to promote.
CHAPTER XXIX
THE SUN OF PEACE
The colonists had won, and men asked one another how they would use their power. But we who have followed their story know that they had not waited for victory to force them to a generous attitude. We remember how in the very teeth of strife they held out their hands and lifted four of their Maori brethren to places by their side in the Colonial Parliament; so it is not surprising to learn that, almost before the blasts of war had done blowing in their ears, they made room in the Upper House for two chiefs of high rank, who were thenceforth to bear the title of "Honourable," and be for life members of the Legislative Council.
If that were not enough to show the cordial mind of the white men to their brown brothers, the Maori prisoners taken in war were treated for the most part as political offenders and, after a very short period of restraint, allowed to return to their tribes without the exaction of further penalty. Exceptions were naturally made in cases where individuals were proved guilty of actual crime; but, otherwise, everything was done to show the desire of the colony tosoften as far as possible all painful memories, to erase all bitterness from the record of events, and to begin the new chapter of their history upon a page inscribed with the great words of a great man, "Liberty and Union, now and for ever, one and inseparable."
As the colonists had never allowed war to hinder them from forging ahead, so, now that peace was assured, they gave rein to their energy and saw to it that their country marched with equal step abreast of the world's progress. As time went on not even that sufficed, and ever and again the old world would stop, agape, while New Zealand confidently adopted political, social or domestic reforms, at which her grown-up relatives were still looking askance as "new-fangled ideas," "dangerous radicalism," and so forth. New Zealand has never been afraid to experiment, and most of her experiments have proved successful, and in their issue "come to stay," if the phrase may be allowed.
One of the earliest products of peace was a large addition to the population, thanks to a policy by which fifty thousand immigrants were introduced into the colony in the two years 1874 and 1875. This policy did not stop there; for the Government, as far as possible, found work for the men whom they introduced, just as they are doing at this day.
Take for instance that large area in New Zealand known as "The King Country," where, as we have seen, the "Land League" so long had sway. This, which includes more than a million of acres of forest-covered land, and that high plateau surrounding old Te Heu Heu's "ancestor," the smoking cones ofTongariro, is only now being reduced to conditions which shall render cultivation possible. To this wilderness the Government sends hundreds of newly arrived immigrants, who are set to work upon the railway which is being carried through it.
The beauty of this region is almost indescribable; and there, too, a man may taste of the experiences of the pioneers and yet miss their greatest hardships. For, if a settler, he works with the certainty of return for his labour; if otherwise, he is paid good wages and is in any case assured of food, for carts carrying bread and meat continually traverse the bush tracks. He is free from the haunting fear that he will awake at some grey dawn to hear the wild yells of blood-lusting savages, or return to his lonely hut to find his wife and children dead upon his hearth. He has no dread of beasts of prey, unlike his brother immigrant in Africa; and he can push his way through breast-high fern or clinging tangle of undergrowth, undismayed lest his heel be bruised by fang of poisonous snake, the terror of his Australian cousin.