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

by Thomas Lindsay Buick

The prisoner was taken on shore in Rauparaha's canoe, and, at a great feast held in honour of the occasion, was surrendered to the wives of Te Pehi to do with him as they pleased. A final appeal for life was made to his captor by Tama; but Te Rauparaha took high ground, and replied that if it was a matter that rested with himself, he would most certainly spare him, but the death of Te Pehi was a calamity which affected the whole tribe of Ngati-Toa, and hence the final decision must rest with them. About the precise time and mode[103] of the unfortunate chief's death there is much doubt, for scarcely any two accounts agree, except in the central fact that Tamaiharanui subsequently met his fate at the hands of Tiaia, Te Pehi's principal widow. The most favourable view of this lady's conduct in revenging the death of her lamented husband is given us by her own tribe, who have averred that "on landing, the chief was given up to the widow of Te Pehi, who took him and his wife to her own house, giving up half to their use. They talked like friends to each other, and the widow behaved so kindly to him, that a stranger would have taken them for man and wife, rather than a doomed captive and his implacable enemy. She used even to clothe him in her finest garments and deck his head with choice feathers. This continued for about two weeks, until she had assembled her friends, or thought her victim sufficiently fat to kill.[104] She then suddenly caused him to be seized and bound, with his arms stretched to a tree, and whilst he was in this position she took a long iron spear, with which she stabbed him in the jugular artery, and drank his warm blood as it gushed forth."

Harrowing as this spectacle must have been, and awful as it is to contemplate, it must be remembered that the manner of Tamaiharanui's death was not more savage than that of many another leader of men, perpetrated in Christian countries and in the name of a higher cause. By the Maori code the death of the Akaroa chief was not only justified, but necessary to appease the spirit of the departed Te Pehi, and the more humiliating his death, the more adequate the compensation to the dead. A student[105] of Maori life and character, than whom perhaps none have had better opportunities of mastering Ngai-Tahu history, and who, from his calling, could scarcely be accused of callousness towards Tamaiharanui's sufferings, has given it as his mature opinion that, "base as the means adopted for his capture were, and cruel as his fate was, it is impossible to feel much pity for Tamaiharanui. His punishment was hardly more than he deserved. The treatment he received at the hands of Ngati-Toa was little more than a repetition of the cruelties which he had himself inflicted upon members of his own tribe." Possibly the knowledge that he would not have acted differently himself assisted the unhappy captive to resign himself to his fate. For, although he has been described as both cruel and cowardly, by one whose verdict it is not easy to challenge, this much must be laid to his credit: that neither the mental nor the physical torture invented for him by his barbarous enemies was sufficient to break down his rugged fortitude or to tame his defiant spirit.

When the Elizabeth reached Sydney, the circumstances attending the death of the Akaroa chief were reported to Governor Darling by Mr. Gordon Browne, and the Governor, with commendable promptitude, ordered the arrest of Stewart and proceeded to put him on his trial. The depositions were referred to the Crown Solicitor on February 17, but that official expressed doubts as to the statutory power of the colony to bring the offender to justice, it not being clear whether offences committed in New Zealand against New Zealanders were punishable under the laws of New South Wales.[106] Darling was in no way disconcerted by this legal difficulty, but urged with some vehemence that the point should be tested, holding that it was "a case in which the character of the nation was implicated, and that every possible exertion should be used to bring the offenders to justice." Stewart retained Dr. Wardell, a lawyer eminent in his day, for his defence, and while the officers of the Crown were seeking to make good their ground, the delay was utilised to spirit away the witnesses whose testimony might be fatal to Stewart. Meanwhile, the Elizabeth was allowed to put to sea under another captain, and Stewart was held on bail, notwithstanding the strenuous protests of his counsel. With the witnesses out of the way, Dr. Wardell became more confident, and boldly demanded the release of his client. But the Governor could not but be influenced by the prayer of the more honourably disposed white residents of New Zealand, who expressed the fear that their "lives would be made answerable for the proceedings of their countrymen," or by the touching appeal of the natives, who came personally to plead that speedy steps might be taken by England to put a curb upon the unbridled behaviour of her degenerate sons. The curb which Darling proposed to apply was to appoint a resident representative of the colony in New Zealand, and he suggested to the Secretary of State for the Colonies that Captain Sturt[107] should be employed in this capacity. The carrying out of this scheme was delayed by the recall of the Governor, and the appointment of Sir Richard Bourke as his successor, to whom Darling deemed it prudent to leave the initiation of a system which it would be his lot to administer.

All this time justice was tardily picking her way amongst the complicated meshes of the law, and it was not until the 21st of May that Stewart was called upon to face his trial. Even then the Crown Solicitor was not prepared to proceed upon the main indictment, but sought to get a conviction upon a minor offence, to which course Dr. Wardell took the strongest exception, and warmly demanded the discharge of Stewart's recognisances. The Crown justified its action on the ground that its witnesses were not forthcoming, for great remissness had been shown in letting them depart; and, notwithstanding Dr. Wardell's protest that it was unfair "to hold Stewart to bail in a sum of £2,000 for an indefinite period," the Chief Justice decided to adjourn the matter, and allow it to come up for consideration on a future day. When that day arrived, the Crown Solicitor was still unready, and applied for leave to abandon the charge of misdemeanour, and proceed upon the main information so soon as his witnesses were available. But his witnesses were the same intangible quantity that they had been ever since they had first vanished, and there was not the remotest prospect of their appearing. Dr. Wardell knew this, and bantered his learned friend upon his unfortunate predicament, in which he was compelled to "skip from a charge of murder to a misdemeanour, and then to murder back again." He earnestly pleaded the hardship imposed upon Stewart by these delays, for which he was in no way responsible, and claimed either instant dismissal or immediate trial for his client, who, he believed, or affected to believe, was the unhappy victim of circumstances.[108] To all this the Crown might have justly retorted that the disability placed upon Stewart was gentleness itself compared with his own conduct towards his fettered captive. Possibly this view was influencing the Court, for it still refused to take the responsibility at that stage of discharging the prisoner, but appointed the 20th June as the day on which Dr. Wardell might make application for the discharge of Stewart's recognisances. But when, after further adjournments, that application was argued on June 30th, the Crown was unable to convince the Court that the accused man should be indefinitely detained, and the Bench, reluctantly, no doubt, announced that he must be "discharged on his own recognisances in the sum of £1,000." So ended Governor Darling's sincere endeavour to make national reparation for one of the blackest crimes which have ever dishonoured the relations of the white man with the Maori, a deed which must be counted dark even at a time when the spirit of humanity seemed to slumber. Whatever palliation the apologist may find for the rough sea captain, whose occupation and environment were not conducive to the gentler qualities, it is not to the credit of a civilised community that its public opinion was apathetic in the presence of such an atrocity as that in which Captain Stewart had steeped his hands. It is to be feared that the Governor failed to receive the support from his officers, or from the community, which a jealousy for the national honour might have demanded;[109] while it is equally true that active sympathy with Stewart was largely responsible for the ease with which the witnesses were got out of the way. It was, perhaps, due to the fact that he was never brought to trial, rather than to any other cause, that no jury of Sydneyites acquitted Stewart.

The tidings of Te Rauparaha's successes in the south were rapidly filtering to the ears of his friends in the north, by the agency of the devoted messengers who were repeatedly travelling backwards to their old home. With each fresh tale of victory told by ardent tongues to wondering ears, some new hope or ambition was awakened in the breast of the Ngati-Raukawa who still lingered in their settlements round Lake Taupo. Apart from the larger migrations which from time to time came down to join Te Rauparaha, less important bands were continually being attracted by the glory of Ngati-Toa's splendid achievements. Many of these soldiers of fortune reached Otaki and Kapiti with little adventure; for there was no inclination on the part of the subdued remnant of the Ngati-Apa to risk a conflict with these fiery spirits as they pushed across the ferny hills of Rangitikei. But one small company, travelling further to the northward than was customary, came into conflict with, and met disaster at the hands of, the Whanganui people, who secured the momentary advantage of a victory. From out of this defeat, two young men, Te Puke and his brother, Te Ao, succeeded in making their way to Kapiti, where the story of their misfortune made a deep impression upon chiefs and people alike. But matters more urgent and nearer home were pressing in upon the chief, and because of lack of opportunity, rather than of desire, the day of reckoning with Whanganui must be indefinitely postponed.

The business which thus preoccupied the mind of Te Rauparaha was the need of adjusting the differences and unravelling the complications, which were daily accumulating, as the result of accretions to his forces. With the arrival of every new contingent of warriors, provision had to be made for their immediate entertainment, and for their ultimate settlement on the land, in order to leave them comfortable and contented. This their mutual jealousies made somewhat difficult, and no small measure of diplomacy was needed to avert civil ruptures, such as afterwards threatened to destroy all that unity and unquestioning devotion to his authority had accomplished. Though there was this simmering of discontent between the men of Ngati-Raukawa and Ngati-Awa, fortunately for Te Rauparaha no crisis occurred, and any ill-feeling that might lead to such an event was soon forgotten in the thrilling announcement that another attempt was about to be made to capture the great pa at Kaiapoi. This decision was, we are led to understand, arrived at somewhat hurriedly, and was largely accelerated because of a vision seen by a hoary seer of the tribe, who had interpreted the manifestation as a mandate to go forward to the attack. His mata, or prophecy, has been preserved amongst the oral treasures of Ngati-Toa, and has been freely translated as follows:—

"What is the wind? It is north-east, it is south. It is east in the offing, oh! Come then, O Raha! That you may see the fire On the crimson flat of Kaiapohia. By the prow of the canoe, By the handle of the paddle, The hold of the canoe of Maui May be overturned to cover it. Then pound, pound the sea! And stir it with your paddles. Behold my flock of curlews Hovering over the backwater Of that Waipara there. The fight will be on the other side; Embrace it, get closer and closer. Fierce will rage the fight."

It might be supposed that, with the capture and death of Tamaiharanui, and all the carnage that had followed upon the Akaroa raid, Te Rauparaha would have felt that he had taken sufficient vengeance upon Ngai-Tahu for the slaying of Te Pehi and his comrades in arms. We are, however, assured by an authority deeply versed in the intricacies of Maori etiquette that no such limit was placed upon his actions, and that, so far from his proposal to again attack Kaiapoi being anything but strictly "correct," no alternative course would have adequately met the exigencies of the case. No sooner, therefore, was the chief's decision to obey the tohunga's call to arms publicly proclaimed, than preparatory measures on an exceptional scale were commenced with alacrity and enthusiasm. There was to be no trifling with the occasion, which, it was generally understood, would be pregnant with the fate of tribes; for Te Rauparaha had determined that as the result of this priest-ordained raid either Ngati-Toa or Ngai-Tahu would be for ever humbled in the dust. The force to be raised was to consist of seven hundred and fifty warriors, and only the pick of the men were to be taken—the Ngati-Toa, the Ngati-Raukawa and Ngati-Awa tribes contributing their quota in nearly equal proportions. The traffic in arms and ammunition had now become so lucrative at Kapiti that there was no difficulty in arming every man with a musket more or less serviceable. Food was also abundant, for so rich had been the harvest of captives that at this time, it is said, Te Rauparaha had upwards of two thousand slaves constantly employed in planting or reaping the crops, which grew abundantly on the alluvial flats along the mainland coast. The question of transport presented greater difficulty. The conveyance of so large a force across the rough waters of Cook Strait was a serious problem, as there was no adequate supply of canoes for the purpose. This perplexity was, however, solved by the decision to transport the force in sections. The first division was to be landed at the Wairau, with instructions to march over the inland track, which led through the wild and picturesque Wairau Gorge, and over the Hanmer Plains, to a rendezvous appointed for them at the mouth of the Waipara River. While this detour was being made purely in the interests of adventure, the remainder of the warriors were to embark at Kapiti, and make their way by slow stages down the coast, until they should unite with the inland party at the Waipara. Here the canoes were to be beached, and the whole force was then to march rapidly upon the doomed pa, in the hope of surprising the inhabitants and carrying the fortress by one swift and resolute stroke.

So soon as the summer of 1831 was sufficiently advanced,[110] these plans were put into execution, and, as far as is known, were carried out with admirable precision. The two sections of the allied forces met at the appointed place, and, with as little delay as was permissible, set off in good order across the plain. But their movements had not been so secretly conducted as could have been wished; for the fleet of canoes had been espied coming down the coast, and a breathless messenger had carried the startling intelligence to the people in the pa. The first impulse of the latter was to gather all the people in from the fields and out-stations, and then to consult the patron deity of the tribe, and endeavour to ascertain by a process of revelation what the issue of the invasion was to be. The Rev. Canon Stack has left on record a description of the elaborate but idolatrous ceremonial by which the movements of a wooden image, dangled in the hands of a shrieking priest, were to reveal the future. The consultation of the atua was most piously performed at a spot outside the pa, consecrated for the purpose of this and similar religious rites. There the prescribed questions were put to the nodding image, in the presence of a trembling people, and the answer, as read by the priests, was that there was to be one defeat. This prophecy they immediately interpreted as foretelling the ultimate repulse and humiliation of the approaching enemy. So satisfactory a termination to the toro was received with much congratulation, and served instantly to revive the drooping spirits of the people, who returned in jubilant procession to the pa. But the gates were scarcely closed before the muskets of Te Rauparaha's men were heard snapping in the distance, as they kept up a running fire upon some belated stragglers.

That the pa was surprised is now a matter of history, but fortunately for its slender garrison, Te Rauparaha did not realise how hopelessly unprepared they were. During the year or more which had elapsed since his raid upon Akaroa, the people of Kaiapoi had been deeply immersed in the endeavour to cultivate a trade with the itinerant whalers who paid their fitful visits to Whangaraupo[111] and other parts of Banks's Peninsula. In their anxiety to make the utmost of these infrequent opportunities, they had lost sight of the probability of another attack upon their settlement, and this unwary attitude had been encouraged by the fond belief that the difficulties of transporting from Kapiti a force large enough to assault the pa with any prospect of success were so formidable that even Te Rauparaha would never seriously contemplate such an undertaking. How illusory these dreams of safety were, and how little they understood the dogged spirit of the man against whom they were called upon to contend, they now realised to their cost. At the moment of Te Rauparaha's arrival the pa was deserted, except for a guard of old people and a number of women and children. The greater part of the population had only a few days before gone off to Whangaraupo, in company with the influential Otago chief Taiaroa, who had been paying a friendly visit to Kaiapoi. Some had gone merely to bid their great kinsman farewell; and so remote was the need of strong arms and stout hearts at home considered that many of the younger men were purposing to travel southward with him to Otakou.[112] Kaiapoi was thus practically denuded of its fighting men, and it says much for the courage and ingenuity of those who were left that, in this sudden emergency, they were able to make so brave a show along its ramparts as to utterly deceive the northern leader. Had the pa been attacked promptly and vigorously, there is no room to doubt that it would have fallen, for its thin veneer of resistance must soon have been pierced; but this was one of the few occasions on which the Ngati-Toa chief's clearness of perception and promptness of decision failed him, and the price of his vacillation was a long weary siege, and the loss, to him, of many valuable lives.