The decision of which Governor Fitzroy had delivered himself, as the result of his hurried investigation into the circumstances attending the tragedy at the Wairau, brought him into bitter conflict with the more influential colonists, and added to his native troubles a European difficulty, which ultimately played no small part in his official undoing. Fitzroy had, with a patriotism worthy of the best traditions of our race, sacrificed place and high prospects in the homeland to assume the Governorship of New Zealand, a post which was afterwards described by Lord Stanley as "a laborious, responsible, and ill-remunerated office in a distant colony." Without money, or the means of obtaining it, to carry on his civil administration, and destitute of military support wherewith to assert his authority, he found himself defied by the natives and thwarted by the Europeans. His appeals for soldiers were unheeded, and his schemes for supplementing his revenue were disallowed by the Home authorities, who, instead of repairing their policy of parsimony, recalled the Governor. Thus was cut short a career upon which Robert Fitzroy had entered with only the highest motives, throughout which he had acted with the utmost devotion, and in which he had failed only because with his limited opportunities it was humanly impossible to succeed. His successor in the arduous task of soothing the dual discontent was Captain Grey, late of the 83rd Regiment, who was then serving the Crown with conspicuous distinction as Governor of South Australia. His success in dealing with native difficulties there, his achievements as an explorer, added to his valuable personal qualities, were his chief recommendations for the new responsibilities which it was proposed to ask him to assume. That the judgment of those responsible for the selection was sound, history has proved; but the administrations of Fitzroy and Grey cannot fairly be compared, for the reason that, while the former was expected to rule a turbulent population without either men or money, the latter was freely supplied with both. The new Governor was further invested with the additional prestige derivable from the title of Governor-in-Chief, and from the fact that he was supported by a Lieutenant-Governor, who, in his subordinate authority, was stationed in the Southern province. Captain Grey assumed the duties of his new office on November 18, 1845. His first recorded contact with Te Rauparaha was on the occasion of his receiving from him and other chiefs a memorial, in which they expressed their anxiety to know his political intentions, and begged him to give them someone skilled in both native and European laws, who would advise them how best to avoid conflict with the pakeha. They were, they said, deeply anxious to obey the laws of the Queen, and just as they had teachers amongst them to lead them to a proper understanding regarding the will of God, so, in order to avoid misunderstanding, they desired some one to act as their guide and friend in the matter of the temporal law. Grey was more than gratified with this evidence of loyalty and desire for harmony, and, in his reply, endeavoured to make it clear that it was his duty so to direct his authority as to secure the peace and happiness of all under his jurisdiction. "Maoris and Europeans," wrote the Governor, "shall be equally protected and live under equal laws, both of them alike subjects of the Queen and entitled to her favour and care. The Maoris shall be protected in all their property and possessions, and no one shall be allowed to take anything from them or to injure them; nor will I allow Maoris to injure one another. An end must be put to deeds of blood and violence." This clear and explicit declaration of his determination to permit of only one law for the pakeha and Maori, and to hold the racial balance justly before the eyes of the world, touched a responsive chord in the heart of the Maori nation; and Te Rauparaha was but expressing the general sentiments of the people when he wrote in reply to the Governor's message: "We have heard your words, which are like the light of day to us; our hearts are glad. Friend, now will I hold fast your words for good, and for living in quiet, both of natives and Europeans. Your protecting word has come forth for one and for the other; your kind words are a light to us. Now, for the first time, I can say the light has dawned for the Maoris, and now no wrong-doing shall spring from me. I mean the errors of the natives. If you cannot come hither, will you write to me?" Not less reassuring was the word of Wi Kingi Rangitake, of Ngati-Awa.
With these pronouncements of loyalty from the two most powerful chiefs on the west coast, Grey felt more than equal to the task of subduing the malcontent natives under Taringa-kuri, chief of the Kaiwara pa, whose depredations in the Hutt Valley had been causing the greatest anxiety to the Wellington settlers. Both Te Rauparaha and Rangihaeata had laid claim to part payment for the land which the New Zealand Company had purchased in this valley, their claim being based upon the alleged conquest of the country. This conquest Mr. Spain held to be incomplete, inasmuch as they had not resided on the land, which was really occupied by Ngati-Awa. He therefore disallowed their claim, although Mr. Clarke, junr., was anxious to pay out of the £1,500 awarded to the natives a sum of £400 in liquidation of their rights, he having come to some such arrangement with Rauparaha at an interview which took place at Waikanae in the presence of the Governor. Hearing of Mr. Spain's objection, Rauparaha, on February 3, 1844, penned a letter to him, Mr. Clarke, and the Governor, in which he warned them against paying the purchase-money for Port Nicholson over to "wrong parties," and listening to "strange men," at the same time urging them to make haste and come to Otaki for the purpose of explaining their intentions to Rangihaeata and himself.
"Friend Mr. Clarke, Mr. Spain, and the Governor,—This letter is from me and Rangihaeata, respecting your foolish work in paying for the land. This was the cause of you and us going wrong at the Wairau, the foolish paying to wrong parties. Do not listen to strange men, but make haste and make known to us your intentions, that the truth of what you have said may be seen. Friend Clarke, make haste. Desist from listening to any man. Son Clarke and Mr. Spain, desist also from carrying your payment to men who have nothing to do with it, but bring it straight to us—myself and Rangihaeata. This is all my speech to you by us.
"Rauparaha. "Rangihaeata."
To this Mr. Clarke replied on the 29th, assuring Rauparaha that anything that he had promised him in the matter of payment would be carried out. Simultaneously, Mr. Spain arranged to hold a court at Porirua, in order to comply as speedily as possible with Te Rauparaha's request. This court, which was opened on 8th March, was attended by most of the leading chiefs and upwards of two hundred natives. After the preliminary addresses had been disposed of, Mr. Spain formally opened the court by saying, "Rauparaha, I received your letter asking me to settle the Port Nicholson purchase, and after inquiry I have decided that the natives who owned the land are entitled to more money, and I therefore offer you new terms." To this Te Rauparaha answered, "My wish was to settle my claims at Port Nicholson, but you want me to give up the Hutt." "Did you not consent to receive £300 for Port Nicholson and the Hutt?" inquired Mr. Spain in an injured tone; to which Te Rauparaha replied that he had not regarded the bargain in that light. Efforts were made to convince him that he had signed a deed in which the Hutt was included, but he insisted that the boundary was not to go beyond a creek known as Rotokakahi. "I am aware of the cause of this objection," said Mr. Spain. "That man sitting by your side, Taringa-kuri, is cultivating land at the Hutt to which he has no right." Te Rauparaha's answer was that the land belonged to Taringa-kuri, as he was the oldest man of the resident natives; whereupon Mr. Spain rose to depart, and as he did so he turned, and, more in sorrow than in anger, upbraided Te Rauparaha for thus breaking faith with him in so flagrant a manner.
The court then adjourned without either party having been able to convince the other. But Te Rauparaha did not permit the grass to grow under his feet, for he at once despatched Taringa-kuri to cut a line through the scrub and bush dividing the Upper from the Lower Hutt Valley, in order to define clearly what territory he considered belonged to the pakeha and what to the Maori. On hearing that this work was in progress, Mr. Spain felt it incumbent upon him to go out and warn Taringa-kuri that he was committing an illegal act, and that the boundary he was attempting to create would not be recognised by the Government. Mr. Spain's reception was not an encouraging one. "If you have come to make remarks about our cutting this line, you may as well return, as we will listen to nothing you have got to say, nor will we be deterred from it by you, by the Governor, or by the Queen," was the truculent declaration of the first native whom he met. Taringa-kuri was not less uncompromising. "I am cutting a line to divide the lands of the settlers from our own, and I am doing it under Te Rauparaha's orders," was his emphatic reply to Mr. Spain's demand for information as to why this work was proceeding. And in answer to the Commissioner's protest that the line being cut was not the line agreed upon, the chief, with a fine show of indignation, accused him of hostile intentions. "It is plain," he said, "you are not peaceably disposed; you heard at Porirua that Rauparaha would not agree to your boundaries, and you appear determined to insist upon them. You had better return to the land of your birth."
Immediately upon his return to Wellington, Mr. Spain despatched a letter to Rauparaha again severely censuring him for committing a breach of faith in sending Taringa-kuri to cut the line contrary to his (Mr. Spain's) decision, and concluding by saying, "Let me tell you that after all that has occurred, Kuri is acting contrary to the laws of the Governor, and, if he persists in his illegal acts, he will be punished by the law accordingly." This letter Mr. Spain first showed to Mr. Hadfield, who approved its contents, and translated it into the native tongue for him, Mr. Spain thinking that this course would enhance its value in the native estimation. On the 27th Rauparaha replied that it was not he who was withholding the land, but Rangihaeata, who had negatived his voice in the councils of the tribe. But he still reiterated his former contention that he had never agreed to sell the Hutt.
The remonstrances on the part of Mr. Spain having proved fruitless, the Governor first pacified Heke[173] and Kawiti in the north, and then came south in February, 1846, with all the prestige of a successful "fighting Governor," to direct his operations against the truculent Taringa-kuri. In an interview, the Governor peremptorily demanded the evacuation of the valley. The chief pleaded for time to reap and remove the standing crops; but the Governor, strong in the knowledge that he had right on his side, and an ample force to sustain his demand, refused to consider any compromise, and gave the chief no alternative between immediate compliance and a declaration of war. The natives hesitated to test the question by an appeal to arms, and sullenly withdrew from the disputed territory, but not from the valley itself. They fell back upon a pa up in the ranges, which the Governor afterwards described as "the strongest position he had seen in any part of the world." From this mountain fastness they made sudden and destructive raids upon the peaceful settlements in the vale below. Two hundred soldiers were left to render the settlers what measure of protection they could, by defensive tactics. Their instructions were not to attack the rebels in their stronghold, but, by vigilantly preventing them from securing supplies, to endeavour by starvation to render its continued occupation impossible. This policy had early the anticipated effect, and, acting on Te Rauparaha's assurance that the rebels had abandoned the pa, the Governor visited the spot, and has thus described what he saw:—
"The forest which had been held by the enemy was traversed by a single narrow path, almost impassable for armed Europeans. This path ascended a narrow ridge of rocks, having a precipice on each side covered with jungle. The ridge of rocks was so narrow that only one person could pass along it at a time, and it led to a hill with a broad summit, upon which a fortress had been constructed in such a manner as completely to command the path, which was rendered more difficult by an abattis placed across it. The rear of this position was quite as inaccessible as the front, and on each flank was a precipice; from the number of huts placed upon it, it must have been occupied by from three hundred to four hundred men."
No sooner was this position abandoned than another, almost equally impregnable, was taken up, and from this lair in the depth of the hills a band of marauders crept down through the forest early in April of 1846, stole past the troops, and late in the afternoon murdered a settler named Gillespie and his son, while they were engaged threshing wheat. There were soldiers in the vicinity at the time, but they were more intent upon getting grog from Burcham's public-house than upon protecting the settlers; and so stealthily was the attack carried out, that no one knew of the tragedy until Charles Gillespie, returning home in the dusk, found his father and brother in the throes of death. Te Rauparaha disclaimed, and probably with truth, all knowledge of or participation in this treacherous act, and even offered his assistance in bringing the murderers to justice. Rangihaeata was not so frank—or it may be that he was even more frank—for he instantly betook himself to the hills, and openly declared himself in sympathy with those who were thus contesting the question of the supremacy of the races. He refused to give the murderers up to the authorities, and busied himself with preparations for continuing the contest. Nor had the military long to wait for his onset. The most advanced British post in the valley was known as Boulcott's Farm, commanded by Lieutenant Page, who had a force of fifty men with him. Here, just before dawn, on May 16, 1846, the sentry, as he kept his lonely vigil, was startled by seeing some dark body creeping through the grass towards him. Without waiting to challenge, he fired, and in an instant the air was rent with the savage yells of a horde of warriors, who, under Mamaku, had left Rangihaeata's pa at Pahautanui on the previous day, and, scaling the mountain range, had fallen upon the sleeping camp. The sentry and the picket were soon overpowered and killed, but not before the alarm had been given by Allen, the bugle-boy attached to the company. Roused from sleep by the commotion, he seized his bugle, and was in the act of sounding the call to arms, when a blow from a tomahawk struck the instrument from his hand. He still had time to recover it, and blow a blast which awakened his sleeping comrades, before he was laid low by a second stroke of the murderous axe. A galling fire was at once opened upon the outpost from the surrounding bush by the secreted natives, and Lieutenant Page and two men, who were with him in one of the out-buildings, hurried off to join their comrades who had been sleeping in the stockade. Intercepted by a swift rush on the part of a band of natives, they were only rescued from their perilous position by a determined effort on the part of the sergeant, who rallied some of the men and went to his commander's relief. Three men went down with wounds, and the remaining six fought the savages hand to hand, checking their onslaught until the wounded were got safely away and the remainder were able to retreat to the barn. Here the available force was assembled, and, leaving a sufficient garrison to defend the position, Lieutenant Page[174] and his men sallied out in extended order, firing as they went. Under this pressure the attack soon slackened, and, on the arrival of reinforcements, was turned into retreat, but not before six men had been killed and four wounded. During the following month there was another skirmish in the valley, which did not redound greatly to the credit of the British arms.