THE RANGIAOWHIA BLOCKHOUSE.
A veteran Forest Ranger (Mr Wm. Johns, of Auckland) says: [[53]]
“About 1870 the Rangiaowhia blockhouse, designed exactly like that at Orakau, was built close to where the Hairini school now stands. It was constructed of four-inch planks. We used it as a refuge place in the panic times. Being doubtful of its strength, I proposed to my fellow-settlers one day that I would test whether it was really bullet-proof. We all went out, and with an Enfleld rifle at fifty yards I put a bullet not only through the front wall of four-inch planks but also nearly through the rear wall. Then I took one of the solid plugs of the floor-loopholes in the overhanging upper storey, a piece of timber seven inches thick, set it up, and drilled it through with a bullet. We decided that we could not stay in the blockhouse, as it would only be a death-trap in case of attack; so we represented its condition to Major Jackson, our commanding officer. Then the blockhouse was made really bullet-proof by giving it a plank lining and filling the intervening space, four inches or so, with sand and gravel.” [[54]]
PLAN OF TE AWAMUTU REDOUBT, 1874.
[[55]]
CHAPTER IX.
THE INVASION OF KIHIKIHI.
Rewi Maniapoto’s headquarters were at Kihikihi, three miles from Te Awamutu, and General Cameron made no delay in paying his adversary a military call. Rewi had not fought at Hairini; the fact is that he was a more sagacious soldier than most of his fellow-countrymen, and perceived the impossibility of making a successful stand at such a vulnerable spot. No doubt he fully realised that with the bloodless fall of Paterangi the pakeha conquest of the Waipa was practically complete.
On 23rd February, 1864, a mixed force of troops marched from Te Awamutu, and without resistance entered the large village of Kihikihi, an attractive sight with its cultivations of root and grain crops and its peach and apple orchards. The Ngati-Maniapoto retired to the Puniu River without firing a shot.
After burning the large carved council-house (which stood at the south end of the present township) and destroying the tall flagstaff, the force returned to Te Awamutu. The troops were now well established in encampments around the mission station, and several redoubts were soon built. The principal redoubt, occupied by Imperial troops during 1864–65, was built in the middle of the present town, in rear of the post office, as shown on the plan here given. The site of this earthwork can still be traced, although it is intersected by a road. There were also British garrisons in occupation of Pikopiko, Paterangi, and Rangiaowhia.
The soldiers in the various camps revelled in an abundance of fruit and potatoes, and the horses of the cavalry and field artillery throve on the maize that grew in every settlement.
A few days after the first expedition to Kihikihi a scouting party of the Colonial Defence Force Cavalry brought news that the Maoris had returned to the neighbourhood of the settlement. It was decided, therefore, that a redoubt should be built at Kihikihi, and an expedition made a start from Te Awamutu before daylight one morning, in an attempt to surprise Ngati-Maniapoto. Colonel Waddy, of the 50th, was in command. The two companies of Forest Rangers composed the advance guard. [[56]]
Von Tempsky, describing this expedition, wrote:
“As we approached Kihikihi I went somewhat in advance, and seeing some Maoris near a bush adjoining the village, we gave chase, and sent word back to that effect. We skirmished through some maize-fields, with a dense bush to our left, to which bush I gave a wide berth. But we could not get well at them as they had the start of us, and we were suddenly brought up by a swamp. We skirmished with them across the swamp, but got little good out of it. I saw them retreating into some distant whares, and making themselves quite comfortable, proving to me thereby that they were now supported, and that their position was strong. As we found the swamp altogether impassable without making a detour of miles, I returned, having formed, however, my plan already to look after these gentlemen.
“That night I entered the bush which I had skirted the previous day, thinking of heading the swamp by these means, and surprising the whares. We had a fearful march of it. It was a kahikatea bush, with swamp inside, and night to add to the difficulties. However, we persevered, and by the time it was morning we were opposite the whares. With one ‘Hurrah!’ we rushed across the open space on to one, then to the other, whare, but found both empty and everything in them smashed to atoms—to the very cats of the domicile. The houses belonged to Mr Gage, a half-caste, who had not joined the Maori cause.
“While my men were overhauling the premises for anything useful, I surveyed the neighbourhood, and saw that between us and the bush, which formed a perfect bight around us, there was still another swamp to cross if we wanted to get into the bush. Also, I saw that if there were any Maoris lurking there we presented a fair target for their pleasure, without even the chance of retaliation.
REWI MANIAPOTO (MANGA)
Rewi was the principal chief in the defence of Orakau. From the first, however, he was opposed to building the pa in such an exposed position, and he regarded the defence as hopeless. He died in 1894 and was buried at Kihikihi. This picture is from a photo by Pulman, of Auckland, about 1883.
TE ROHU, WIDOW OF REWI MANIAPOTO
(From a photo by J. Cowan, at the Puniu, 1920)
“At that moment Sergeant Carron, who had been sniffing around with his usual acuteness, reported to me that there were Maoris in the bush. This decided me in relinquishing my position at once, as we could do no harm to our antagonists if they persisted in remaining in the bush. I had hardly drawn my men down the knoll on which the dwelling-house stood when down came a volley over the heads of the last men disappearing behind the hill. I took up a better position within 300 yards of it, where logs and fern gave good cover to the ground in our favour. But the Maoris would no more cross that swamp in front of us than we would in front of [[57]]them; so, looking at one another wrathfully, and shaking a figurative fist, we parted at last without much harm done to either side.”
The redoubt now built on the highest part of the Kihikihi village (the spot is just behind the present police station) was garrisoned by Imperial troops for a time, and then by Waikato Militia. In the Seventies, and, in fact, until about 1883, it was occupied by the Armed Constabulary. Unfortunately it was demolished in the Eighties by the townspeople, who did not realise the value of this large and picturesquely-set earthwork as a place of future historic interest.
HITIRI TE PAERATA
Hitiri was a chief of Ngati-Raukawa and Ngati-te-Kohera, and fought in the defence of Orakau pa, where his father and brother were killed. His sister, Ahumai, who suffered several wounds, was the heroine who declared that if the men died the women and children must die also.
From a photo by Mr. J. McDonald, Dominion Museum, Wellington.]
WINITANA TUPOTAHI
Tupotahi, who was one of the leading chiefs of Ngati-Maniapoto, was severely wounded at Orakau.
The Forest Rangers now camped at Kihikihi for some time. On 29th February, 1864, the first expedition was made to Orakau village. Von Tempsky, describing this bit of work, wrote:
“The Maoris at Orakau kept hanging about, irresolute what to do, till we saw them commencing to dig rifle-pits, and then it was high time to give them notice to quit. Colonel Waddy mustered his whole strength, and away we went under the firm impression that we would have a warm afternoon of it. The Forest Rangers were in the advance. There was much scrub on each side of the road, and we had also orders to break down any fence that might impede the action of the cavalry. We had broken down one or two across our road already, when the Maoris commenced with some desultory shots at cannon range. But suddenly I saw a peculiar sort of fence across the road—a stake fence bound with new flax, therefore a new work—a rising bank behind it, with a suspicious look about the crown.
“ ‘Listen, men,’ I said. ‘We must make one broad rush at that place—one long, strong, all-together push—and that fence must go down. Then up the bank like lightning.’
“Thus arranged—thus it was done. With a cheer a wave of sprightly fellows dashed against that fence. Down it went—up the bank we flew. There were the masked rifle-pits just dug and just deserted. They had stuck sprigs and branches of tea-tree into the newly-thrown-up earth to hide the presence of those pits.
“Thence we entered the village, still with considerable precaution, as we would not believe that the Maoris would make no resistance whatever, particularly in such broken ground as the village, straggling amongst gullies and ridges covered with peach-groves, afforded. Thus, however, it was. We went right through the village, and seeing the fugitives in the far-off distance making [[58]]for an old pa [probably Otautahanga], I gave chase, but was soon recalled, as the orders of Colonel Waddy were to confine himself strictly to Orakau. The next time I entered that village a few weeks after we did not complain about the reluctance of fighting in the Maoris.” [[59]]
CHAPTER X.
THE BATTLE OF ORAKAU.
And how can man die better
Than facing fearful odds,
For the ashes of his fathers,
And the temples of his gods?
—“Horatius” (“Lays of Ancient Rome.”)
The defence of Orakau Pa by the three hundred Maoris who deserve lasting fame as surely as the three hundred of Thermopylæ has passed into imperishable history as an inspiring example of heroism and devotion to a national cause. Many and many a story of that three days’ siege has been written, and yet new narratives with much that is thrilling are still to be gathered from the very few survivors. Far away in the wild forest glens of the Urewera Country I have heard the story of Orakau told in the meeting-houses at night by the old warriors, and travelling over the Huiarau Mountains to Waikaremoana, my companion, a Hauhau veteran, told me how his father fell at Orakau and he himself escaped from the field with a severe wound, and proudly he exhibited the deep scars.
A PLAN OF THE BATTLEFIELD OF ORAKAU. 1864.
Orakau was one of those defeats and retreats that are grander than a victory. The spirit of Bannockburn was in the defenders’ scornful defiance of terrible odds; but even Bannockburn was outdone by the Maori garrison’s indifference to the foe’s superiority in numbers and arms and by the devotion of the women who remained to share the fall of their husbands and brothers. The pakeha’s cattle graze over the unfenced, unmarked trenches where scores of brave men were laid to rest. Technically they were rebels, holding stubbornly to nationalism and a broken cause, but the glory of Orakau rests with those rebels. And now that the old racial animosities have disappeared Briton and Maori join in fraternal worship of the men and women who died for a sentiment. A Waikato Regiment has taken for its motto the war-cry of the people whom Cameron defeated but could not conquer, and has inscribed on its colours the words, “Ka whawhai tonu matou, ake, ake, ake!” To New Zealanders of the blended races in the years to [[61]]come that slogan of the soil should carry as thrilling a call in battle-test as the last words of Burns’s ode hold for the Scot: “Liberty’s in every blow—let us do or die!”
Of Ngati-Maniapoto themselves there were but fifty or so in Orakau; the defence fell chiefly on the Urewera—who had come fully a hundred and fifty miles to fight the pakeha—and on the Ngati-Raukawa and Ngati-te-Kohera and other West Taupo hapus.
Very nearly all those dogged heroes of Orakau have passed to the Reinga; I know of only five now living—three Ngati-Maniapoto and two Urewera.
In this sketch of Waipa history I need not enter into the already familiar military history of Orakau. There is, however, an immensely interesting MS. narrative at my hand—Major Von Tempsky’s account of the siege—and extracts from this animated description make a valuable contribution to the story of the three days’ fighting.
Von Tempsky, after describing his march with the Forest Rangers from Te Awamutu, as advance guard of Major Blyth’s column, narrates that the force crossed and re-crossed the Puniu and came out in rear of Orakau, soon after the main body under Brigadier-General Carey had opened the attack. His Rangers (No. 2 Company—No. 1 was in camp at Ohaupo) were ordered to guard the east side of the Maori position. Von Tempsky then goes on to describe the events of the first day (31st March, 1864):
“For two hours we lay under what cover the inequalities of the ground afforded, with a heavy and well-directed fire upon us. We could see the Maoris strengthening their works as busy as bees, firing away also with rifles from two or three small embrasures with most unpleasant comparative accuracy. There was one gentleman in particular sending his shots at me with a wonderful progression of skill. I had a hillock somewhat bigger than my head to shelter the same; a gentle incline thence afforded a philosophical resting-place for the trunk and limbs; so that I lay in comparative security from direct shots, though not from the leaden droppings of high descent. The first indication of the notice taken of my insignificant presence was given me by a bullet striking the ground in beautiful line with my head about eight or nine yards in front. The next shot made the distance six, in the same splendid line, the third five, the fourth four, and so on until—he did not hit me after all. [[62]]
“I had had some hopes that the nearness of our circle to the pa indicated an intention of a general assault, but nothing of the kind took place. We could not even fire, as the danger of a cross-fire was then too imminent, and I must confess that I was heartily glad when we were removed at last from that uselessly-exposed position to a point further back, where the sudden fall of the ridge gave a comparative shelter from bullets. Here I was joined once more by the rest of my men and Lieutenant Roberts, and got from him a full account of the proceedings of the main column.
“They were first fired upon from some peach-groves in the beginning of the village. The advance guard under Captain Ring, accompanied by Roberts and his Rangers, skirmished along the road, the natives retiring before them. It became then apparent that the Maoris were going to make a stand in a large peach-grove before them. There was an old stock-yard fence visible, but as to the nature of any other defences no one had any idea of what was before them. The word for assault was then given, and, Captain Ring and Roberts leading gallantly, they advanced in quick time. The Maoris held their fire until our force was within fifty yards, and then gave them volley after volley. Within a few yards from the ditch, and a parapet now becoming visible, Captain Ring fell dead by the side of Roberts. A few Rangers were trying to get into the ditch, but were not supported. Several men had fallen, and the bugle from the main body sounded the Retire. Another effort to lead the men on to the assault proved as ineffectual as the first. Captains Fisher and Hinds, of the 40th, and Captain Baker, of the Staff, most gallantly set the example, and urged the men on—but the advance of the latter was this time even a milder affair than the first. Captain Fisher was badly wounded, several men shared the same fate, and only a few of my men got into the ditch. Roberts saw that he was not sufficiently supported, and drew his men back. The two pieces of artillery then commenced to play upon the pa. We arrived about that time, and I witnessed the harmless flight of shells and other equally ineffectual shots. A little dust, and a cheer from the natives, were all the results that I could see. This firing of the Armstrong even continued after we were in our encircling position, and I had the pleasure of picking up nice pieces of shell dropped amongst us, after the explosion had taken place over our heads.”
Von Tempsky here comments on the failure to reconnoitre the pa before the troops were rushed against it in premature assaults. [[63]]
“After we had taken up our position on the east side, closing the circle that now surrounded the pa on all sides, everyone asked, ‘What next?’ A sort of vague idea circulated that ‘the place was going to be blown up that afternoon.’ I heard this myself from an officer of high standing, wondering in myself how this wonderful feat was going to be accomplished, and particularly in the space of time mentioned. However, there was little Hurst of the 12th (acting engineer officer). He suggested sapping. The idea was greedily seized and carried out.
“About twelve o’clock we began to see natives trooping along the ranges to the east, and making for the forest between us and Rangiaowhia [the Manga-o-Hoi bush]. Their numbers increased at every moment. I was stationed in a hollow where the main road from the pa [toward Otautahanga and Parawera] crossed a swamp and led up an adjoining ridge, on which stood a large weather-board house. I had previously put a picket near that house, as the view from it commanded the very point of the forest now that reinforcements were gathering.
“The natives in the pa had seen the arrival of succour as well as we had, and repeated cheers and volleys announced their appreciation of the sight. From the forest responsive cheers soon established a sympathetic intercourse between the two separated bodies, and I must confess that as far as I was concerned at least the enthusiasm was all on their side. Some Maori trumpeter in the pa now commenced one of those high-pitched shouts, half song, half scream, that travel distinctly over long distances, particularly from range to range. He was giving the reinforcements some instructions. I never have been able to find out what they were, though we had plenty of interpreters with us. I went to the picket with reinforcements, and extended a line of skirmishers along the brow of the hill in some tea-tree scrub. There was open ground between us and the line of forest in which the reinforcements were, and they had to cross that opening if they wanted to come to us.
“About this time the natives in the pa commenced a war dance. Of course, we could see nothing of it, but we could hear it—the measured chant—the time-keeping yell—the snort and roar—the hiss and scream—the growl and bellowing—all coming from three hundred throats in measured cadence, working up their fury into a state of maniacal, demoniacal frenzy, till the stamping of their feet actually shook the ground. [[64]]
“There was soon an echo in the forest of this pandemoniacal concert. Another chorus of three hundred or four hundred throats made the woods tremble with their wrath of lung and the thundering stamp of feet. Twice it subsided, and skirmishers appeared, firing lustily into us. I must confess there was something impressive in these two savage hordes linking their spirits over this distance into a bond of wrathful aid, lashing one another’s fury into a higher heat by each succeeding yell echoing responsive in each breast. Yet when the result of all this volcanic wrath broke against us, when the simple crack of our carbines sent line after line of their skirmishers back into the bush, then the third war dance to get the steam up anew became a most laughable affair, particularly as its result was equally pusillanimous with the first two. No! that open ground under the muzzles of our carbines was not at all to the liking of the war-dancers. There they remained in the bush firing at us at long range, their bullets coming amongst us with that asthmatic, overtravelled sound denoting exhaustion of strength.
“The sap workers were now covered by a good number of Enfield rifles, which dropped most of their bullets into our snug hollow. I must say that as night came on I reflected upon its probable effects, and I experienced a good deal of uneasiness. I was placed on the one point where the Maoris from the pa, trying to effect a junction with the forces in the bush, would have to pass or break through. I never for a moment believed that they would allow the night to pass without making the attempt, as they had no water in the pa. If the forces in the bush, then, favoured by darkness, crossed the opening and attacked our rear while we faced the Maoris from the pa, the chances were ten to one that the junction would be effected, and that thus our prey would escape us after having done irreparable damage.
“I gave Roberts charge of the picket. It could not be in better hands. That day his behaviour before the pa, and on many previous instances, had borne me out in my preconceived idea of the young man that he was as true as steel. I ranged all my men on one side of the road, lying down close to one another in the fern, with strict orders not to stir from their positions until I gave the word—to let the Maoris run the gauntlet of their fire—and then, when Roberts had barred the narrow pass across the swamp, to charge them, bowie-knife and revolver in hand.
“It was an anxious night—so much so, that I even forgot the [[65]]want of sleep of the night previous, and listened with little need of effort to the firing from the pa on the sap and from the sap on the pa. * * * The Maoris had now fought for more than twelve mortal hours; they had wrought at the spade with marvellous rapidity and pluck; and last, not least, they had hurrah’d and war-danced enough to supply all England with consumption, and all that with no adequate supply of water, as their store of it inside must have been quickly exhausted. I believe that night some daring and devoted slaves managed to creep through our sentries and bring a few calabashes-full into the pa. But what was that for the great number of parched throats? (Also, raw potatoes assuaged their thirst considerably.) Still the roar of their guns did not cease, and allow me to tell you that they had some old-fashioned barrels that roared like the bulls of Bashan and threw balls as big as potatoes. Hour after hour I listened to the firing and to the pinging of bullets whistling over our heads and dropping amongst us the whole life-long night; but the sounds I most listened for were footsteps and that indescribable hum that precedes even the most silent body of men. I went to the picket several times, and returned each time in great haste, fearing the Maoris might break cover during my absence. But I was not the only wakeful officer. I think nearly everyone with any responsibility on him slept little that night, except those borne down by fatigue. The artillery troopers under Rait had hardly ceased their rounds along our whole circle throughout the night, and Rait and I had a long chat about the certainty of the Maoris breaking cover that night. Yet the night passed and nothing happened.
“This is one convincing proof to me that the Maoris after all, with all their cleverness, have not the true military sagacity in them to distinguish when obstinacy of defence turns into stupid self-sacrifice. Had they pushed through us that night we would have suffered at close quarters with their guns quite as much in ten minutes as in the time that the whole siege lasted, and their loss would have been comparatively small, as up to that time I believe not half a dozen of theirs had been hit.