He had barely finished speaking when he received a practical hint that the pa was 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 every vestige of cover from the front of the pa—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 the pa into 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-defended pa was 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 the Maori, 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.