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

by Thomas Lindsay Buick

At the outset an attempt was made to ascend the river in boats, but as the tide was on the ebb and the wind unfavourable, the travelling was both slow and laborious, and before they had proceeded very far, the boats were abandoned, and the party, except Mr. Cotterell and his men, who remained in a whaleboat, commenced the march along a survey track which ran parallel with the river. By this time the ardour of the men had considerably cooled; the bitter cold night experienced at the bar had helped to extinguish their enthusiasm, and now the keen morning wind and bad walking through the long wet grass completely dissipated all idea that the affair was to be regarded in the light of a pleasure trip. During the course of the journey, which was both a slow and irritating one, Captain Wakefield expressed the opinion that the natives were more inclined for trade than for war, and that the prospect of their attempting to fight in the event of a forcible arrest being made was very small. In reply to this, Mr. Tuckett still adhered to his former opinion that the Maoris would most certainly offer resistance if the armed force was taken into their presence. While this discussion was going on, the party reached the bend in the river at the back of Grovetown, where they met a number of resident natives, who, in consequence of their differences with Rauparaha, were quitting the Wairau and returning to Port Underwood. Amongst them were Puaha, a lad named Rore (who afterwards became the honoured and respected chief of the Wairau natives), his father, and a few other Maoris cutting timber in the bush. Of these they inquired the whereabouts of Rauparaha, and were informed that he was a few miles further up the valley, at the Tua Marina stream. Night coming on, they decided to camp in the Tua Mautine wood, but took the precaution to send Puaha forward to acquaint Rauparaha with the nature of their visit; and he was followed by the remainder of the natives at a later hour. Mr. Thompson was careful to explain to Puaha that he had not come to interfere with him; but it was noticed that his countenance bore a most anxious and concerned expression, and in the brief interview which he had with the magistrate, he not only advised, but earnestly entreated him not to precipitate a quarrel by taking the armed men into the presence of Rauparaha and his followers. If he did so, it would be impossible to convince them that he had not come for the purpose of shedding blood. The pained look that fell upon the face of Puaha when he realised the magistrate's intentions made a deep impression upon Captain Wakefield, and he several times made reference to it. Even when waking from his sleep in the night, he spoke of the fact as though he had a gloomy presentiment that all would not be well on the morrow. Mr. Thompson did not appear to be troubled with any such forebodings; his concern was that he would not have the opportunity of arresting the chiefs, who would probably make good their escape as soon as Puaha conveyed his message to them. He endeavoured to make light of the agent's fears by explaining that Puaha's troubled looks were due to the conflict between the dictates of his barbarous nature and the influence of his Christian teaching, which, under the circumstances, would naturally burn within him—a course of reasoning that Captain Wakefield seemed to cheerfully accept.

At dawn next morning,[156] the camp of Te Rauparaha was easily located by the smoke rising through the forest trees at the mouth of the Waitohi Valley, about four miles away. The magistrate then mustered his constables, and served out to each man eighteen rounds of ball cartridge. All told, they numbered forty men, bearing muskets, bayonets, and cutlasses, besides ten or twelve gentlemen who were without arms, the chief surveyor and Mr. Cotterell being members of the Society of Friends, and refusing, in accordance with their religious principles, to carry them. After a short march across the plain through the fern and toetoe, they arrived at the foot of the Tua Marina hills, and there they halted, having, during the course of the journey, been cautioned not to fire unless ordered to do so.

The constitution of the arresting party was not calculated to ensure success in the event of resistance on the part of the Maoris. They were untrained and without discipline. Some of them were even unwilling participants in the expedition, for they had been coerced into coming by the threat that they would lose their employment in the service of the Company if they refused to assist in the arrest of the chiefs. Their arms were old-fashioned and not in the best of repair; there was a total lack of organisation, and apparently no common understanding as to who was in authority. Under these circumstances, the result could scarcely have been different, regard being had to the character of the men with whom they had to deal.

Anyone sitting on the hill-side even now can, without the aid of a vivid imagination, picture the animated scene which unfolded itself on that bright June morning. What are now grass paddocks were flats, more or less covered with native scrub. Of what was then dense bush only a few detached fragments now remain, but otherwise the physical features of the landscape are but little changed. The Maoris, when they first observed the Europeans, were squatting around their camp-fires on the western side of the Tua Marina stream. They immediately hailed them and inquired if they intended to fight. Mr. Thompson answered in the negative, and, after explaining the purpose for which he had come, asked the natives to place a canoe across the stream that he might come over and talk the more freely to them. Rauparaha consented to this course, but stipulated that the armed men should not be allowed to cross over; and, the magistrate agreeing to this condition, the special constables were left in charge of Captain England and Mr. Howard, who had instructions to act if called upon. He himself, accompanied by Captain Wakefield, Mr. Patchett, Mr. Tuckett, Mr. Cotterell and Mr. Brooks,[157] the interpreter, crossed over in the canoe, which was immediately drawn back again alongside the bank by a native nicknamed Piccawarro (big-fellow), to prevent any surprise from the force on the other side of the stream. When the magistrate walked into the presence of the natives, he observed that they numbered about ninety men and thirty-five women and children; but, as an indication of their peaceful intentions, they had placed in the midst of their group three women, the wives of Rauparaha, Rangihaeata, and Puaha, while the party of resident natives sat on one side, and the immediate followers of Rauparaha on the other. The noble and dignified Puaha stood in the centre with a Bible in his hand, reading from it select passages, and exhorting both parties to peace, while the natives sitting around chanted the usual welcome, Haere-mai, Haere-mai. Rangihaeata lay concealed behind some bushes, but Rauparaha came forward frankly when Mr. Thompson inquired for him, saying "Here am I," and offered to shake hands with the strangers. But this courtesy was declined by the magistrate, who pushed the chief's hand away, and it was left to Mr. Tuckett and Mr. Cotterell to perform the politeness of a friendly greeting.

In reply to Rauparaha's inquiry as to what had brought them there, Mr. Thompson proceeded to explain to him, through Brooks, the interpreter, that he was their prisoner. Rauparaha disdainfully replied that it would be time enough to indulge in such talk when Mr. Spain had made his inquiry about the land. They then strove to make him understand that, as this case had nothing to do with the land, but was a charge of arson, it did not come within the province of Mr. Spain to inquire into it, but that the charge must be heard on the brig. Rauparaha declared that he had not destroyed any European property, in proof of which he appealed to Mr. Cotterell, who admitted the truth of his assertion, and therefore he would not go on board the brig, but he was quite willing that the matter should be adjudicated upon there and then, and, provided the compensation demanded was not excessive, he would be prepared to pay rather than there should be any ill-feeling between the two races. Thereupon he was told that, if he would not go voluntarily he must be taken by force, and a pair of handcuffs were produced to impress him with the sincerity of this threat. His chieftain blood was aroused by this insult; he indignantly dared them to try to imprison his hands in such implements and bind him like a slave, but begged for longer time to talk the matter over. The magistrate, who was now rapidly losing his temper, began to stamp and rave, and scorning the need for further argument, desired the interpreter to finally ask Rauparaha to say whether he would go on board the brig or not; and, upon his still firmly refusing to do so, Mr. Thompson turned to Brooks and exclaimed, with a violent gesture in the direction of the opposite bank, "Then tell him there are the armed party; they will fire on them all." A native from the Bay of Islands who was present amongst Rauparaha's people, and who understood a smattering of English, told those of Rauparaha's party that an order to fire had been given, and sixteen of them at once sprang to their feet, and, presenting their muskets at the magistrate, awaited the order from their chief to fire. The mistaken impression under which this hostile display had been made was at once removed by the chief surveyor and Mr. Patchett, who walked over to them and explained that only a threat, and not an order, to fire had been given, and on this assurance they immediately subsided to their seats on the ground.

The altercation between Mr. Thompson and Rauparaha still proceeded. The former produced his warrant, which he told the chief was the "book-a-book" of the Queen "to make a tie," and that he was the Queen, again adding, in high and excited tones, stamping his foot the while, that if Rauparaha did not consent to surrender himself, he would order the Europeans to fire on them. This was quickly interpreted to the armed natives by the stranger from the Bay of Islands, and they instantly sprang to their feet and pointed their muskets at Mr. Thompson and his companions, as before. At this point, the peace-making Puaha[158] stepped forward with his Testament in his hand and said, "Don't fight, don't fight! This book says it is sinful to fight. The land has been made good by the preaching of the missionaries. Don't make it bad again." In this way he strove to reason with Mr. Thompson, but the latter in his frenzy and rage pushed the native aside, and angrily called out for Rangihaeata to come forward. That chief, on hearing his name, came from behind the bushes which concealed him, and, leaping into the midst of the throng, began to brandish his hatchet in dangerous proximity to the magistrate's head, meanwhile upbraiding him in a most violent manner. "What do you want with Rangihaeata that you come here to bind him? Do I go to Port Jackson or to Europe to steal your lands? Have I burned your house? Have I destroyed tents or anything belonging to you?" Such were the pertinent inquiries made by the angry chief; and, as it was quite evident from his flashing eyes and bitter tones that he was in no mood to be trifled with, Mr. Patchett appealed to the chief surveyor to interfere, "otherwise," he said, "we shall all be murdered." Rauparaha, seeing that his companion's manner was not likely to improve matters, ordered him to retire and leave the settlement of the matter to Puaha and himself, at the same time leading Rangihaeata's lame wife, Te Rongo, to him, so that she might be under his protection. Mr. Tuckett then seized the opportunity of pointing out to Captain Wakefield that, in the event of Rangihaeata's temper getting the better of him, they would be completely at the mercy of the natives, seeing that their retreat had been cut off by the removal of the canoe. After a brief consultation with Puaha, they agreed that it would be wiser to restore the means of communication between themselves and their party on the other side of the stream. Captain Wakefield, taking the initiative, jumped into the canoe, and with the aid of a pole shoved the bow down the stream until he found a convenient landing-place on the other side. While this movement was in progress, Mr. Thompson[159] had made another attempt to place the handcuffs upon Rauparaha's wrists. Just at that moment, when the chief had indignantly wrested his hand from the magistrate's grasp, and was bitterly protesting against the conduct of the Queen's officers, Captain Wakefield stepped on to the opposite bank of the creek, and, noticing a threatening movement towards Mr. Thompson on the part of the natives, in a loud voice gave the command, "Men, forward; Englishmen, forward!" The company at once obeyed, and four of the men who were in the front, Morgan, Clanzey, Ratcliffe and Tyrrell, jumped into the canoe for the purpose of crossing over to assist Mr. Thompson. Almost simultaneously the latter turned and entered the canoe at the other end, with the result that she was nearly capsized. A momentary confusion ensued, during which one of the Englishmen, in striving to get in front of his companions on the bank, tripped and fell, and in the fall his gun was accidentally discharged. That was the fatal crisis, for it turned what had hitherto been only stirring drama into fearful tragedy.

The natives had now no doubt that the Europeans had come to fight, and Te Rauparaha, believing death to be imminent, turned, and, stretching his arms heavenward, exclaimed, "Hei kona e te ra, hei kona e te ao marama—haere mai e te po, haere mai e te mate" (Farewell, O sun, farewell, thou world of light; come on, O night, come on, O death). This was a cry which a chief would only utter in a situation of deepest stress, and no Maori loyal to his leader would refuse to obey the call, even though it should cost him his life. The natives therefore briskly returned the fire, the first volley being fatal to Tyrrell, who was shot in the throat. Clanzey and Ratcliffe were also shot by the first discharge of musketry, and their bodies fell into the water and sank to the bottom. The Englishmen returned volley for volley, and, in the midst of the general fusilade, Mr. Thompson and his party passed safely over in the canoe. Mr. Tuckett was the last to leave the bank on which the natives were, which he did by entering the stream, and, with one hand on the canoe, pulling himself through the water. At this stage of the fight the natives might easily have killed every one of the leading Europeans; for, when the latter started to cross the stream, the muzzles of the native guns were no more than a few yards away from them. The fact that they were not shot must have been due to some chivalrous sentiment on the part of the natives, who, seeing them unarmed, honourably abstained from attacking them. For some ten minutes after crossing the creek, Mr. Tuckett stood no more than twenty yards away, fully exposed to the fire that was being kept up by the natives and fourteen or fifteen of the European rank and file. Beside him stood Messrs. Barnicoat, Cotterell, Richardson, Patchett, and Maling. The two latter were shot almost at the same moment. Mr. Richardson bent over Mr. Patchett and inquired if he was hurt, to which he replied, "I am mortally wounded—I am mortally wounded; you can do no good for me; make your escape."

MONUMENT ON MASSACRE HILL, WAIRAU.
Photo by W. Macey.

The bullets now began to rain down upon them thick and fast. As several of the labourers had fallen in the vicinity, including Northam, Smith, and Burton, Mr. Tuckett and his friends retired to the foot of the ridge, whither the other officers had gone with a portion of the men to consult as to the best course to pursue. They decided to retreat up the hill, and called to Mr. Tuckett and the rest of the party to follow them. This act of mistaken generalship cost them dear, for up to that time their fire had kept the natives penned up on the other side of the stream. But the moment they observed the Europeans falling back, they dashed into the water, and, carrying their guns above their heads to keep them dry, crossed over and took possession of the trees which grew on the opposite edge. Secure within this cover, they opened a galling fire upon the Europeans, who were now hopelessly exposed upon the face of the fern-clad hill.