An Old New Zealander; or, Te Rauparaha, the Napoleon of the South. Thomas Lindsay Buick
chiefs of his day. This was Tuwhare's first visit to the south. He had gladly accepted the invitation to join the expedition, for his purpose in coming to Kawhia had been to lead an invasion into Taranaki territory, in order to secure some of the valuable mats, for making which the people of that part were widely famed.
Tuwhare's contingent consisted of not more than two hundred men, but they brought with them something which, at this period, was more to be dreaded than men—the deadly musket. A few of these arms were carried by the invaders, while the defenders had not as yet even heard of or seen them.[34] The precautions of the garrison had robbed the northerners of all hope of successfully capturing the pa by assault, and so they sat down to besiege it in the most leisurely fashion. For several weeks besiegers and besieged watched each other across the wide lagoon which had been formed by the waters of the Waihi. At last Te Rauparaha and his people, growing weary of the enforced inactivity, sent proposals of peace to Huri-whenua. These were accepted, and subsequently ratified, but not before the pride of Ngati-Toa had been salved by their insistence upon a quaint condition. Te Rauparaha, recognising that the damming of the Waihi stream had been the means of frustrating his plans, demanded that, before the siege was raised, the dam should be removed. The point was conceded and the barrier broken down; and, as the waters rushed back into their bed, the northerners ostentatiously discharged their muskets in token of victory, and "then," says a Maori chronicler, "this ignorant people of these parts heard for the first time the noise of that weapon, the gun." The war party remained for some time on amicable terms at Te Taniwha, and before they had resolved to return home they were importuned to engage in further aggressions by Te Puoho, of whom we shall hear more anon. This warrior was a man of influence amongst the Ngati-Tama tribe, who held what has been called "the gate of Taranaki"; and it was due to the numerous connections by marriage between the northerners and Ngati-Tama that the former had been permitted to pass unmolested to the attack upon Te Taniwha. Te Puoho now sought recompense for his friendship by enlisting the sympathies of the northern leaders in the redress of his own grievances. He solicited their aid in an attack upon Tatara-i-maka pa, the home of those who had been responsible for the death of his sister not long before.
Obedient to Te Puoho's summons, and eager to secure mats and heads and slaves, the war party marched upon the pa, which stood with its terraced ramparts upon the sea-coast eleven miles south-west of New Plymouth. Seeing the invaders approach, the defenders went out to meet them, and gave them battle on the open space in front of the pa; but the sound of the guns, and the sight of men falling as by the hand of some invisible enemy, so terrorised the defenders that their lines were soon broken, and they fled, a demoralised host, back to their stronghold, which was immediately stormed and taken with great slaughter. This incident inspired the following lament, which was composed by one of the Taranaki people, in memory of those who fell at Tatara-i-maka:—
"Sweet is the Spring, the September month, When brilliant Canopus stands aloft, As I lay within my solitary house, Dazed with sad thoughts for my people Departed in death like a flash. To the cave of Rangi-totohu— Emblem of sad disaster— They are gone by the leadership Of Uru, of the fearsome name. 'Twas there at the hill of Tatara-i-maka The foe advanced in wedge-like form, Whilst our gathered people bid defiance At the entrance of the pa, Where Muru-paenga[35] forced his way— The army-raiser, the leader— His was the fatal blow delivered, At the ascent of Tuhi-mata: Hence I am dried up here in sorrow."
From Tatara-i-maka the taua moved southwards, attacking Mounu-kahawai as they went. This pa was taken under cover of the smoke caused by firing the dry raupo which grew in the neighbouring swamps, and then Tapui-nikau was invested. Here the defenders, though fighting only with their rakau maori, or native weapons, made so gallant a resistance that not even the guns of the invaders could penetrate it. They had filled the fighting towers of the pa with huge boulders and smaller stones, and the branches of the trees which overhung the trenches were lined with men, who handed the missiles to those best able to drop them upon the enemy as they swarmed round the walls.[36] Changing their tactics, the invaders drew off to a position which closed all communication with the pa, and at the same time gave them complete control of the surrounding country, so as to prevent the possibility of succour reaching the beleaguered pa. It was during the respite from active hostilities thus secured that there occurred one of those strange incidents which, though common enough in Maori warfare, appear so anomalous in the light of European custom. Te Ratutonu, one of the defending chiefs, had been so conspicuous in repelling attacks that his gallantry and skill in arms became the subject of universal admiration throughout the northern camp. But not alone upon the men had his bravery made its impression. Rangi Topeora, Te Rangihaeata's sister, had witnessed his prowess, and, charmed by his handsome figure and manly strength, had been seized with a desire to have the hero for her husband. When the clash of arms had ceased, she persuaded her uncle, Te Rauparaha, to have Ratutonu "called," a ceremony which was performed by some one approaching the beleaguered pa, and under a guarantee of safety, inviting the warrior into the camp. Ratutonu obeyed the summons, and came down from the pa to meet Topeora; and to her he was married after the orators had delivered themselves of speeches rich in eulogy of their new-found kinsman, and full of admiration for the virtues of his bride.[37]
This unexpected union had raised a hope in the breast of the defenders that the rigour of the siege would now be relaxed, and that peace would be made as a fitting sequel to the romantic nuptials. In this they were, however, doomed to disappointment, for the Nga-Puhi, knowing that the food of the pa must be failing, would listen to no suggestion of compromise. But, moved by a more generous impulse, Ngati-Awa, the Taranaki section of the allies, entered into secret communication with the garrison, and finally arranged that the defenders should be allowed to pass through their lines by night and escape to the neighbouring hills. Next morning, great was the excitement in the camp when it was discovered that there was neither smoke ascending from the fires nor sound from the ramparts of the pa. The enemy had slipped from under their very hand; had flown from under their very eyes; and, as Ngati-Awa kept their own counsel, there was not a trace to show or suggest how the trick had been accomplished. Nothing, therefore, remained for the outwitted besiegers to do but avail themselves of what plunder had fallen into their hands, and make the best of their way back to their homes.
Upon the return of the taua to Kawhia, its composite forces separated and departed to their respective districts, but not before the plans of a still more extensive campaign had been discussed. These operations, however, did not commence for a year, and, in the meantime, the seriousness of his position in relation to the Waikato people was more than ever apparent to Te Rauparaha, whose inability to come into contact with the whalers, and the consequent difficulty he experienced in becoming possessed of muskets, brought him much "darkness of heart." But, as he meditated, his anxiety of mind was to some extent relieved by the arrival at Kawhia of the northern portion of the war party, the raising of which had previously been agreed upon. In accordance with this arrangement, Tuwhare, accompanied by Patuone, and his brother, that picturesque figure in Maori history, Tamati Waka Nene[38]—whose influence and eloquence were subsequently to be so powerfully used to secure the acceptance by the natives of the Treaty of Waitangi—left Hokianga in November, 1819, and proceeding by a circuitous route which embraced the country of the Waitemata, reached the home of Te Rauparaha, and found there a force of four hundred men waiting to welcome them.
BURNING OF THE "BOYD".
From a painting by W. Wright, Auckland, by kind permission of the artist.
Accredited estimates give the strength of the combined contingents at fully one thousand men, and they were armed with a greater number of muskets than had ever previously been carried into the field by any Maori organisation. A further