His conduct while a captive on board the Calliope appears to have been exemplary enough, and he succeeded in impressing those with whom he came into contact by his quick perception, particularly of anything meant to turn him into ridicule, of which he was most sensitive. He frequently became much excited and very violent, and at other times, when talking of his misfortunes, he would become deeply moved, and the tears would run down his wrinkled cheeks. It is recorded that he was very grateful for any kindness shown him; and when Lieutenant Thorpe left the ship to return to England he expressed the most intense sorrow, crying the whole day, and repeating the officer's name in piteous accents. This, it was noted, was not merely a temporary affection. When, a year later, the Calliope was leaving the New Zealand station, he sent his favourite a very handsome mat, begging the officer by whom it was sent to tell Lieutenant Thorpe how glad he would be to see his face once more, and how well he would treat him now that he was free. Similarly, when Lieutenant McKillop was proceeding home, Te Rauparaha took him aside and entreated him to go, on reaching England, and convey to Queen Victoria his regard for her and express his keen desire to see her, only his great age and the length of the voyage standing between him and the consummation of that desire. "He hoped, however, she would believe that he would always be a great and true friend of hers, and use all his influence with his countrymen to make them treat her subjects well, and that, when he became free again, there would be no doubt as to his loyalty, as he would himself, old as he was, be the first to engage in a war against any who should offend her or the Governor, of whom he always spoke with the greatest respect." During his captivity the news of the outbreak of the war in the Sutlej reached the Colony, and, noticing the excitement on board the Calliope, he asked to be informed of the contents of the papers giving details of the battles. In this subject he maintained the liveliest interest; and, when he had sufficiently grasped the details, he was perceptibly impressed by the magnitude of the armies engaged and the tremendous resources of the Empire, about which he, in common with all natives, had been distinctly incredulous. That his release was marked by no exhibition of resentment is at least something to his credit, and the ease with which he afterwards adapted himself to the strangely altered order of things is proof that his nature was capable of absorbing higher ideals than are taught in savage philosophy, although it is doubtful if he ever reached the purer heights attained by a clear conception of the beatitudes of the Christian religion.
In the life of Te Rauparaha there is much that is revolting and incapable of palliation. But, always remembering his savage environment, we must concede to him the possession of qualities which, under more enlightened circumstances, would have contributed as fruitfully to the uplifting of mankind as they did to its destruction. His superiority over his fellows was mental rather than physical; his success lay in his intellectual alertness, his originality, strategic foresight, and executive capacity. He was probably a better diplomat than he was a general, but he had sufficient of the military instinct to make him a conqueror. And if, in the execution of his conquests, the primary object of which was to find a safe home for his people, the weaker tribes went down, history was but repeating amongst the Maoris in New Zealand the story which animate nature is always and everywhere proclaiming, and which, in the cold language of the philosophers, is called "the survival of the fittest."
[196] "On shore, I was much tormented by the zeal of some European sailors, who appeared to be a drunken set of lawless vagabonds, belonging to the different whaling establishments in the neighbourhood. The only respectable person amongst them was a stock-keeper in charge of some sheep and horned cattle, and the captain of a whaling vessel ahead of us. I asked the sailors, who were complaining that some of the property taken was theirs, if they had any specific charge to make against Rangihaeata, who was the most powerful chief in the neighbourhood. However, I could get nothing from them but vague declarations against native chiefs in general, to which I replied that the fault was probably as much on their side as on that of the natives. The old chief, who was present, appeared to understand the drift of the conversation, for he went into his hut and brought out several written testimonials of good conduct; on which I desired Mr. Williams to explain to him how much I was gratified in perusing them, and that I trusted that under the Queen's Government he would continue equally to deserve them: that he would find the Government just and even-handed, and that punishment would follow evil-doers, whether they were natives or Europeans. To which he replied, 'Kapai,' apparently much satisfied" (Major Bunbury).
[197] "On Saturday (November 24, 1849), Rangihaeata and a party of his followers paid a last visit to Te Rauparaha. At the Ohau ferry Rangihaeata demanded some spirits from the temporary ferryman (the regular one being absent). On being refused, he knocked him down, and then helped himself, but afterwards tendered utu for the violence offered and the spirits taken" (New Zealand Spectator, December 1, 1849).
[198] In an enclosure opposite the Maori church at Otaki there stands upon a pedestal a marble bust of Te Rauparaha. The bust was procured in Sydney by Tamihana te Rauparaha at a cost of £200, and the likeness, which is said to be a very faithful one, was copied from a portrait painted by Mr. Beetham. Because Te Rauparaha had not become even "nominally Christian," Mr. Hadfield refused to permit the erection of the bust within the church enclosure, and for two years it lay upon the common, packed in the case in which it had come from Sydney. Subsequently, Mr. McWilliam, the native missionary, collected a few pounds with which to purchase the pedestal, and had the bust erected where it now stands. On the authority of Dieffenbach and Angas, it is said that Te Rauparaha possessed the physical curiosity of six toes on each foot.
[199] It is estimated that during the course of Te Rauparaha's campaigns no less than 60,000 lives were sacrificed.
[200] Mr. Spain, in one of his reports, has said: "Rauparaha is the most talented native I have seen in New Zealand. He is mild and gentlemanly in his manner and address; a most powerful speaker; and his argumentative faculties are of a first rate order."
"He must have been a most powerful man, and, if his mind had been cultivated, would, no doubt, have been a most clever one. As it is, he seldom gets the worst of an argument about his own proceedings, puts such searching questions and gives such evasive answers, that he puzzled the best of our logicians on many occasions when endeavouring to get him to give a decided answer about his not giving us the assistance he promised when we were trying to capture the murderers from Rangihaeata" (McKillop).
[201] Correct, according to prescribed rules.
[202] Treachery, amounting to murder.