Up to this point the weight of influence and oratory had been heavily against the Governor, the opposition evidently considering it good tactics to get in early and reap the fruits of a first impression. But the friends of the treaty now put up a powerful foil to Tareha in the person of Hone Heke, the nephew and son-in-law of Hongi, and admittedly one of the most influential men, both by lineage and achievement, in all the North. Heke at this time was actively espousing the Christian cause, and had not developed the mischievous spirit which afterwards gave him even greater prominence in European annals than he had as yet acquired in Maori fame. He began in that mystical manner so much beloved by Maori orators, the skilful use of which was regarded as a test of their accomplishment.
"To raise up, or to bring down? To raise up, or to bring down? Which? Who knows? Sit, Governor, sit. If thou shouldst return, we natives are gone, utterly gone, nothinged, extinct. What then shall we do? Who are we? Remain, Governor, a father for us. If thou goest away, what then? We do not know."
Then turning and addressing himself to those immediately about him, he said, "This, my friends, is a good thing. It is even as the word of God.[76] Thou to go away! No, no, no! For then the French people or the rum-sellers will have us natives. Remain, remain, sit, sit here; you with the Missionaries all as one. But we natives are children. Yes, it is not for us, but for you, our fathers—you Missionaries—it is for you to say, to decide what it shall be. It is for you to choose, for we are only natives. Who and what are we? Children, yes, children solely. We do not know. Do you then choose for us. You our fathers—you Missionaries. Sit, I say, Governor, sit. A father, a Governor for us."
The emphasis with which these concluding sentences were pronounced, and the gestures by which they were accompanied, came as a convincing climax to what had been a mighty speech. The mana of Heke was great, for was he not descended from Rahiri, who came down in a direct line from a Viking Admiral of the Hawaiki fleet; was he not the representative of the Ariki family of Nga-Puhi; had he not by virtue of his great name levied toll upon all who crossed his estate at Puketona; was he not the brave who had distinguished himself at the 1830 fight at Kororareka when Hengi was killed, and had he not fought valiantly at Tauranga when Titore attacked the pa at Otumoetai? Heke had thus become great in all that told most in the estimation of the Maori, and when he had spoken it was indiscreet for any dog to bark.[77]
No sooner had he resumed his seat upon the ground than the hum of approving comment could be heard in all quarters of the tent. Here was a speech indeed, Europeans and natives alike joining in eulogiums of both its manner and its matter. While the buzz of conversation filled the air, Hakitara, a chief of the Rarawa tribe, rose and commenced a speech in favour of the treaty. He was, however, unfortunate in having to follow Heke, who had for the moment captured public attention, and Hakitara, being unable to raise his voice above the din, soon subsided and made way for a greater even than Heke.
While the latter was speaking the gathering had received an important augmentation by the arrival of Tamati Waaka Nēne, his elder brother Patuone, and the Nga-Puhi chiefs of Hokianga. They had mingled with the crowd, and immediately the Rarawa chief had concluded, Nēne came forward and spoke "with a degree of natural eloquence that surprised all the Europeans and eventually turned aside the temporary feeling of hostility that had been created."[78]
Dr. Bright, one of the few Englishmen who have left us an account of this historic gathering, describes Nēne at this moment as a "mild-looking, middle-aged man with a deportment as if he felt he was a gentleman." As he listened to Heke he rested upon his taiaha, and smiled upon those about him. His face bore evidence that he was glad to see the white man and the brown in conference.
To this chief with his great mental powers, his keen perception, his capacity to read the signs of the times, it had been long apparent that the advent of the Pakeha was inevitable, and that the Maori system was incapable of developing the principles of a stable Government. To now enter upon a campaign of hostility to the whites would, he believed, certainly result in the destruction of his own race. It was too late. Yet to govern themselves was manifestly impossible. He therefore found himself in the same dilemma as had presented itself to a large section of the ancient Jews in the beleaguered city of Jerusalem, who honestly enough believed that their country had arrived at that stage in its history when its only salvation lay in its seizure and government by a foreign power strong enough to establish justice and security, even though it might be at the sacrifice of liberty. What the Romans were to Palestine the British were in Nēne's eyes to New Zealand, and that was what he meant when he begged the Governor to remain and be to the Maori a friend, a father, and a Governor.
As he stepped into the arena of debate the storms were laid still, and a general calm suppressed the rising excitement, for he was esteemed by the white men and known to his own race as one who dared to fight as well as to talk of peace. His voice was low at first, nor needed he to raise it high—no sound intruded on it.
