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

by Thomas Lindsay Buick

The canoe which had brought them safely over so many miles of open ocean was hauled to a secure spot on the beach, there to await the ravages of decay, the spot where she rested and finally rotted away under the manuka and akeake trees being still marked by two stone pillars,[14] which the natives have named Puna and Hani. The next thing was to erect an altar to the gods for having thus far prospered their journey. The spot chosen was that afterwards called Ahurei, in memory of their old home in Tahiti;[15] and, doubtless for the same sentimental and patriotic reason, the spot on which the wives of Hoturoa first planted the kumara[16] was called Hawaiki. With these preliminaries settled, the pilgrims from the east were now faced with the most serious duty of all, to arrive at an equitable division of the new land which was about to become their permanent home. What method of adjudication was employed in the apportionment we cannot now say; but two main divisions mark the final arbitrament. The Waikatos occupied the country from Manukau in the north to the Marokopa River in the south, while the tribe afterwards known as Mania-poto occupied a domain which extended from that point to one about two miles south of the Mokau River. Within these comprehensive boundaries was embraced the acknowledged territory of the numerous sub-tribes; but to only two of these need we refer at this stage, namely, to the Ngati-toa, who lived on the shores of Kawhia Bay, and to the Ngati-Raukawa, who had settled further inland, in the country of which Maungatautari is now the centre.

When the Tainui people landed on the shores of Kawhia and began to spread their settlements throughout the valleys of the district, they did not find, as they might have expected, an empty land. At some time, and by some means, man had already established himself in New Zealand, and before the organised migration, of which the Tainui was a part, had set sail from Rarotonga, the country was already extensively peopled. Whether these tangata whenua, as the Maoris called them, were Polynesians like themselves, and the fruits of some of the prior migrations which are known to have taken place, or whether they were a lower order of mankind struggling through the process of evolution to a higher plane of civilisation, is a point which cannot well be debated here. But whatever manner of men they were who lived in the balmy climate of Kawhia, they were already well established there in their villages and gardens, and for many generations—perhaps for many centuries—they had been burying their dead in the secret caves which honeycombed the limestone cliffs that rise in beetling precipices sheer from the harbour's edge. Although they are generally credited with being a less combative and virile race than the fierce and hardy tribes who came with the fleet, they were not disposed to surrender or divide their estate without a struggle, and Hoturoa found that, if he was to become master of Kawhia, it could only be as the outcome of a successful war. But Kawhia was a country worth fighting for. Early travellers through New Zealand, who saw it before the devastating hand of man had marred its beauties, speak with eloquent enthusiasm of its extremely picturesque and romantic landscape.[17] At full tide the harbour shines in the sunlight like an unbroken sheet of silver, in which the green and gold reflections of the surrounding bush are mirrored and magnified. For many miles in length and breadth the sea runs inland from the bay's bar-bound mouth, stretching its liquid arms right to the base of the mountains which encircle the harbour like a massive frame. Rugged and picturesque are these mountains, with their cloak of deep verdure, through which huge masses of limestone rock protrude their white faces, suggesting the bastions of some old Norman tower covered with gigantic ivy. So marked, in fact, is this resemblance, that the character of the peaks has been preserved in their name—the Castle Hills.[18] Down the sides of these slopes run innumerable streams, the largest being the Awaroa River, which enters the harbour at the north-east end, where the scenery attains its most impressive grandeur. A little to the north-east of Kawhia, and over the ranges, lies the broadly-terraced valley of the Waipa, and between this district and the harbour stands "an ancient and dilapidated volcano," called Pirongia, upon which the evening sun directs its blood-red darts, lighting up its many peaks and towers until they resemble a giant altar raised by some mighty priest. The climate, too, is mild and soft, like that of Southern Spain, and there the orange and the lemon might bud and blossom with all the luxuriance found in the valleys of Granada.

Such was the home in which the people of the Tainui canoe sought to gain a footing, when they abandoned their vessel; but these exiles from far Hawaiki were yet to pass through the bitter waters of tribulation before their arms were blessed with success and their claims ceased to be contested. In the quaint language of an old tohunga we are told: "In the days of the ancient times the descendants of those who came in the Tainui made war on the people who had occupied the interior of Waikato. These people were called Te Upoko-tioa, and were the people who had occupied the land long before the Tainui arrived at Kawhia. These people were attacked by those who came over in the Tainui. The men they killed, but the women were saved and taken as wives by the Tainui. Those who attacked these people were of one family, and were descended from one ancestor, who, after they had killed the inhabitants of Waikato, turned and made war each on the other—uncle killed nephew, and nephew killed uncle: elder killed the younger, and the younger killed the elder."

Of the various battles which the Tainui people fought during the conquest of their new home we have scarcely any account, beyond vague and general statements of the most fugitive character. These, unfortunately, do not afford us any wealth of detail, the possession of which would enable us to picture in vivid colours the doughty deeds by which the invaders overcame the strenuous resistance of the tangata whenua, who maintained the struggle with the desperation of men who were fighting for their very existence. The story of the conquest of Kawhia may be regarded as lost in the misty distances of the past, but it is not surprising to discover by shadowy suggestion, such as quoted above, that, after the original inhabitants had been effectually subdued, the turbulent nature of the Maori should lead to devastating and sanguinary internecine wars. One of the traditions of the Tainui tribes is that they left the South Pacific because of a great battle called "Ra-to-rua," which originated in a quarrel between Heta and Ue-nuku; and it would be quite unreasonable to expect that they should suddenly forsake their warlike passions on reaching New Zealand, a country in which there was so much to fight for. With the Maori war had now become more than a passion: it had become part of his nature; for, through all the long centuries of migration, the story of the race had been one of incessant struggle with other races and with circumstances. They fought their way into the Pacific, and were in turn submerged under the tide of a second invasion, which gave to the world a people inured to the hardships inseparable from strife, who had tasted the bitterness of defeat as well as the joys of victory—a proud and haughty race, sensitive to the slightest insult, and so jealous of their honour that they were ever ready to vindicate their fair name before the only tribunal to which they could appeal—that of war. Steeped as they had been from birth in this atmosphere of strife, they had grown to expect the clash of arms at every turn, and, as they grew to expect it, they grew to love it. It is small wonder, then, that, when they found their enemies at Kawhia and its neighbourhood vanquished, they occasionally turned their hands upon each other, in the attempt to efface some real or imagined wrong.

But, fatal to national progress as these inter-tribal wars must have been, they, nevertheless, played an important and valuable part in spreading the Maori over New Zealand. A tribe defeated in battle was forced to fly before the pursuing enemy, with no alternative but either to appropriate some district still unoccupied or to displace some weaker people, upon whom the burden was cast of again establishing themselves where and as best they could. Thus the tide of fortune and misfortune rolled and recoiled from Te Reinga to Te Ra-whiti, until an asylum was sought by the last of the refugees even across the waters of Cook Strait. Although we have no accurate information on the point, it is probable that these blood-feuds contributed in no small measure to the ultimate distribution of the Tainui people; for their subsequent history is eloquent of the fact that, while they claimed common descent from the ancestral line of Hoturoa, this family bond did not prevent hatred and hostility springing up, and at times bathing their country in blood.

The first migration, however, of which we have any record did not apparently ensue upon the result of a battle, although a quarrel was its underlying cause. Hotu-nui, who was one of the principal chiefs of the canoe, is said to have taken as his wife a daughter of one of the tangata whenua, and was apparently living in the same village and on terms of perfect friendship with her people. Having been wrongfully accused of an act of petty thieving, he determined to rid the pa of his presence; and so, with one hundred of his immediate followers, he, it is said, moved off towards the Hauraki Gulf. As the years rolled on, and the systematic exploration of the country began to be undertaken, many similar expeditions, no doubt, went out from the parent home at Kawhia, one at least of which was fraught with fateful consequences. A chief named Raumati,[19] whose story has been embalmed in tradition, had taken a band of followers with him and travelled across the island, past Rotorua, until he finally came to the shores of the Bay of Plenty, where his mother's people lived. Here he was in the Arawa country, and it was not long before he heard that their canoe was lying at Maketu, some distance further to the southward. It will be remembered that there had never been good feeling between the Tainui and Arawa peoples, and Raumati determined upon an act which would demonstrate beyond all doubt that he, at least, was not disposed to hold out the olive-branch to Arawa. His scheme was to effect the destruction of the great canoe which had brought the hated rivals of his tribe to New Zealand. Once decided upon, his plan was put into execution with a promptness worthy of a better cause. Travelling along the coast from Tauranga to Maketu, he and his followers arrived at the latter place when all its inhabitants were absent in quest of food. But his trouble was that the Arawa had been berthed on the opposite side of the Kaituna River, where she had been housed under a covering of reeds and grass to protect her from the ravages of the weather. Nothing daunted, however, Raumati soon proved that his ingenuity was equal to the desperate circumstances in which he found himself placed. Taking a dart, and attaching to the point of it a live ember, he hurled the smoking stick across the water with unerring aim, and, to his intense satisfaction, he saw the firebrand fall in the midst of the combustible material which formed the covering of the canoe. The fire was soon in full blast: the glare of the flames lit up the surrounding country and was reflected in the red glow of the evening sky. The first impression of the people out in the forest was that the Maketu pa had been destroyed; but in the morning they were undeceived, for then they saw that it was their beloved canoe which had been burned, and all that remained of her was a heap of glowing ashes.[20]

The unanimous conclusion was that this had been the work of an enemy, and messengers were sent far and wide to acquaint the tribesmen of the fate of the canoe and call them to council upon the subject. At the meetings the debates were long and serious, for the tribe was torn between its desire to live in peace with all men and its natural impulse to revenge the burning of the Arawa, which "they loved and venerated almost as a parent." They remembered the injunction which had been given to them by Hou when on the point of leaving Hawaiki: "O my children, O Mako, O Tia, O Hei, hearken to these my words: There was but one great chief in Hawaiki, and that was Whakatauihu. Now do you, my children, depart in peace, and, when you reach the place you are going to, do not follow after the deeds of Tu, the God of War: if you do, you will perish, as if swept off by the winds; but rather follow quiet and useful occupations, then you will die tranquilly a natural death. Depart, and dwell in peace with all; leave war and strife behind you here. Depart and dwell in peace. It is war and its evils which are driving you hence: dwell in peace where you are going; conduct yourselves like men; let there be no quarrelling amongst you, but build up a great people."

These were, no doubt, excellent words of advice, and they expressed a very noble sentiment; but the practical question which they had to determine was whether they could afford to adopt an attitude of passivity while these acts of aggression went on around them: whether they should declare war on account of the destruction of their canoe, or permit the act to pass without notice. This was the problem over which they pondered; and, as they discussed and debated it, "impatient feelings kept ever rising up in their hearts." But at last an end was made of deliberation, the decision of the tribe being in favour of battle as the one and only sufficient means by which they could be compensated for the burning of their canoe. In the words of the old tradition, "then commenced the great war which was waged between those who arrived in the Arawa and those who came in the Tainui."[21]

[6] On this occasion Hotu-nui is credited with having addressed his people in the following terms: "Friends, hearken! Ours was the first canoe to land in New Zealand before any of you had arrived here. But let this be the proof as to which of our canoes landed first. Let us look at the ropes which the various canoes tied to the whale now before us, and also let us look at the branches of the trees which each have put up in building an altar, then the owners of the rope which is the driest and most withered, and of the altar the leaves of which are the most faded, were the first to land on the coast of the country where we now reside."

[7] After the canoe left Whanga-poraoa the first stopping-place was at Whare-nga, where the crew amused themselves with various games on the beach. To mark the spot, one legend has it, they placed one large stone on top of another, while a second story has it that this monument, which is still existent and is called Pohatu Whakairi, represents one of the crew who was turned into stone. The next point of interest was Moe-hau, now known as Cape Colville. They then landed at Te Ana-Puta, where, it is said, the canoe was moored to a natural arch of rock jutting into the sea. For some reason the anchor was left at a spot between Wai-hou and Piako, and under the name of Te pungapunga (the pumice stone) is still to be seen on the coast by those who are curious enough to look for it. The course was then deflected slightly to the west, and the canoe crossed to Whaka-ti-wai and coasted along the mainland past Whare-Kawa, where, it is said, Marama, one of the wives of Hoturoa, desired to be put ashore with one of her male slaves. Here they were left, and, according to one version of the tradition, it was her misconduct with this slave which prevented the crew dragging the Tainui over the portage at Otahuhu. The canoe then went on, some accounts say, as far as the North Cape, and others seem to imply that she was shortly afterwards put about and, returning into the Hauraki Gulf, sailed past the islands of Waiheke and Motu-Korea, until land was once more made at Takapuna.