Cameron’s Conquest of the Waikato

Sun (Auckland), Volume III, Issue 732, 3 August 1929, Page 17

Cameron’s Conquest of the Waikato

\ Memories of the Stirring Sixties \ S i | —When Men of Auckland j S Marched to the Wars —Incidents \ J in Frontier Warfare —Border \ | Raids and a Prolonged Campaign \

(Written for THE SUN by

J. G. McLEAN)

WINGING along the 1 1 20 ! Great South Road j | I | umn of soldiers, j ; IjBSSSSBjI j ing Through 1 Georgia" the popular songs of die day—rose In deep-throated volume as the column trooped out past the green fields of Ellerslie, past the thriving Harp of Erin tavern, and on to the sprawling, bustling encampment at Otahuhu. Such a different Great South road, it was, from the smooth concrete highway of 1929. The June showers had left its surface damp and yielding, and the Auckland Militia, called out on June 24 to do battle beside Cameron’s Imperial forces, sometimes sank to the boot-tops in the mud. In 1863 there were no “Bill Masseys” for the motley crowd of conscripts, ranging from the beardless lads of sixteen to the mature men of 40. And the discomforts they experienced on the way to the badly organised camp at Otahuhu were only a mild foretaste of what was to follow in a rigorous campaign. Still, the zest of real warfare flavoured their enterprise. It was better than tedious drilling behind the grey walls of the Albert barracks, while derisive regulars, veterans of Crimea, the Mutiny, and Taranaki, stood by and mocked them, or, worse still, played havoc with the affections of their sweethearts.

For bright eyes and tender charm there was ample scope in 1863. The city was thronged with soldiery. The lofty rigging of many a transport etched a tracery in the sky at the foot of Queen Street. Martial colour and activity were on every hand. But behind it all there was a tenseness, an uneasiness. Since 1860 Auckland had been overshadowed by the vague menace of a native nvasion. Blundering legislators had failed to check the Insurgent spirit of the Waikato tribes, and only the recall of Governor GoreBrowne, hated and despised by the Maoris, had saved the city from invasion In September, IS6I. Blissfully unconscious of the danger that had threatened it, Auckland watched Gore-Browne retire, and Grey came to restore peace. But though there was a truce in Taranaki, and Grey met the Waikato tribes on terms of cordiality and friendship, the fatal distrust survived- The banner of the Maori King still waved at Xgaruawahia. His subjects prayed tor the Queen In their churches, but wanted recognition of their own monarch as well. And Grey, while profassing friendship and tolerance, raised alarm by saying in characteristic metaphor that he “would dig round the King’s standard until it fell." One of the implements of his purpose was John Gorst, who had come

to join Selwyn in the mission field. Grey sent him to Te Awamutu as a commissioner, magistrate, and school teacher, and Gorst became, in addi tion, an editor. He printed a news Paper, “Te Pihoihoi Mokemoke” (The

Lonely Lark) in opposition to the King’s organ, the sinister sounding “Te Hokioi,” or War Bird. And one of the first articles, written for Gorst by Miss Ashwell, daughter of a Taupiri missionary, deeply incensed the loyal supporters of the King. Finally Gorst’s Press was seized, and the fifth issue confiscated. He himself had to leave Te Awamutu, and, being sent to Australia to recruit troops for the now imminent war, did not return to the

scene of his remarkable labours for nearly fifty years. When he did so, he had a most affecting meeting with some of the boys he had taught, and with some of the chiefs who had opposed his policy. Thus the early months of 1863 were full of menace. In Gorst’s absence, a half-caste agent named James Fulloon, later murdered by Hau Haus at Opotiki, sent the disquieting news that an invasion of Auckland was again being planned. Alternatively, the Razorbaek hills were to be seized and fortified. Grey acted at once, pushing on the Great South road from Drury, and throwing up the immense Queen’s redoubt at Pokeno. When he proposed to build a courthouse at Kohe Kohe, just below Mercer, the Maoris thought that, too, was to be a blockhouse, and they cast the timbers into the river. “The water belongs to the Maoris” was the message they printed on a board erected near the site. From the councils of the Waikato, every move was watched by irnaceloving Tamihana, the King-maker; by Tawhiao, the puppet-King; and by Rewi, warrior chief of the Maniapotos, whose intractable spirit loomed behind every gesture of the war-party. It was Rewi’s men who seized Gorst’s press. There is a legend that the type was cast into bullets, but the fact is, nearly every font was returned intact, and the press and material finally found Its way to Auckland, where for a long time it was used in the printing of gazettes. The other newspaper, “Te Hokioi,” was printed on a press given by the Emperor ot Austria to a couple of chiefs whom the Austrian geologist, Hochstetter, had taken back with him in 1860.

It was Rewi’s men, too, who with infinite labour brought artillery from Kawhia over the shoulders of Mount Pirongia. Tamihana might dicker

for peace, but craft- Rewi would not let Grey be alone in bis preparations And finally, Tamihana, too, saw that war was inevitable He set out five reasons why his people should rightly go to war. The first was the wretched Waitara business, a legacy of the Gore-Browne era. The second was Gorst. And the third, fourth, and fifth referred to the establishment of the military post at Pokeno and the eviction of the Maoris from their land 3.

Maoris living between Mercer and Mangere were ordered to take an oath of allegiance or to leave their villages, and an exodus began at once. Without any fanfare or any formal declaration

of war, the rift between the two races widened into a chasm that precipitated terrible bloodshed and sorrow. With Cameron in position at Pokeno, and the Auckland auxiliaries in support at Drury, Grey had issued his proclamation to the Maoris on July 9, and on July 12 Cameron began his movement into the Waikato. On this day of solemn portent, the first victims were sacrificed, a farmer named Meredith and his son. Their murder—it was nothing better, for they were quite unarmed —initiated a phase of the conflict that was to leave poignant memories, and arouse the most bitter resentment. In the dense, almost impenetrable forest that then clothed all the Hunua ranges, all the Razorbaek, and miles and miles of lowland toward the river and the coast, the Maoris operated with cunning and ferocity, swooping down upon isolated farms and settlements, and leaving traces that may be seen today in the bullet-pitted walls of churches and homesteads where little garrisons fought desperately for their liveß. Advancing from Pokeno along the eastern bank of the Waikato, Cameron forced the first engagement of the war at Koheroa, near Mercer, on July 17, and scattered the Maoris with ease. But behind the lines, at a spot called

the Stone Depot, on the Razorbaek hills, a detachment marching back to Drury from the redoubt at Pokeno was savagely attacked, and five of the 18th Royal Irish killed in a running fight, their first taste of bush warfare in New Zealand. The warrior who directed this exploit was the truculent Horl Ngakapa, who had been a central figure in the famous “invasion of Mechanic’s Bay” In 1851. His success in the Stone Depot affair drew attention to the serious possibilities of these forest forays, and a few days later the first of the famous companies of Forest Rangers was gazetted Meanwhile more non-combatants had been slain. James Hunt was shot near Ramarama on July 22, and Sylvester Calvert, a mere boy, and George Cooper, an elderly man, brutally killed near Papakura two days later. To the Maoris, this was all in the way of warfare. The hapless victims were just “he mororo kokotl ihu waka"—flying fish chancing to cross the bows of the canoe—and they had to pay the usual toll. But the dreadful form the frontier warfare was taking alarmed the citizens of Auckland. and set the city’s nerves on edge The glamour was gone from the martial pageant, and Press and public joined in denouncing Cameron's de liberate methods. The Maoris had set up new positions at Mere Mere, a few miles beyond Mercer, but for weeks no effort was made to dislodge them.

Cameron was awaiting a new and effective weapon. Early in the campaign Grey had conceived the idea of placing an armed craft in service on the Waikato. To this end the small steamer Avon, which had been pottering about the Manuka - ' as a sort of naval maid-of-all-work, had been fitted

with guns, a pair of primitive turrets, and a perforated steam pipe right round the hull to assist in repelling boarders. She entered the Waikato on July 25, and steamed in triumph to Mercer, not without trouble on the shoals. Meanwhile another ship, much larger, and specially designed for river work, had been ordered from Sydney, where workmen toiled night and day to build ber. This ship, the Pioneer, was armed with heavy guns mounted In the revolving turrets now deposited at Mercer and Ngaruawahia. She was a big factor in the conquest of the Waikato country, but came to an untimely end some years later when, having been stripped of her armour to perform peaceful tasks, she broke from her moorings at the mouth of the river, drifted out to sea, and finally in spite of an heroic attempt at sal vage by a party which went out in a small boat and stoked her fires with cabin fittings in an effort to make the Manukau, was cast on the coast and completely wrecked. Still another boat, the Koheroa, named after the « At right—Wiremu Tamihana, known as “the native Warwick,” or the Kingmaker. A powerful counsellor for peace, but a dangerous enemy once the die was cast.

first battlefield of the war, was brought over from Sydney in pieces, and put together at Kohanga, near the mouth of the river. Hastily rivetted, she almost became a total wreck when she ran on to a shoal within an hour of being launched. She was put together again, but never enjoyed the prominence achieved by the Pioneer and the Avon. These two craft showed their value when, Cameron having laid his plans and completed his preparations, they were brought up to Mere Mere at the end of October. To the accompaniment of cheers from the troops, they threw shells into the Maori lines. The Maoris replied with salvoes from a couple of ancient pieces, but they had no proper ammunition, and were even reduced to firing weights from a storekeeper’s scales. The only direct hit buried itself in a barrel of pork on the deck of the Pioneer. Deeming their position now impracticable, the Maoris fell back on Rangiriri, leaving Cameron to a bloodless victory which failed to assuage the temper of his critics. The general was a brave soldier with a brilliant record; but he lacked consistent judgment, and at times allowed the whole elaborate scheme ol his tactics to collapse through overcaution. A Victorian mulishness at times seemed to pervade the supreme command. Late in August the raids north of the river had been renewed, with dreadful results. On August 25, when the road over the Razorbaek was being widened by labourers working under military protection, their guards were attacked and two soldiers killed. On September 7 a •nagistrata named Armitage was attacked on the river below Tuakau and hacked to death as he clung to the sides of the canoe. Three of his men, Mc.Keown, Strand and Heughan, also perished, while the Maoris successfully ambushed a military party that came to the rescue. Captain Swift and three men being killed. On Sept. 14 there were two more raids, one at Burtt’s farm, near Paerata, where a boy named Robert Watson and a man named Hugh McLean were killed, while the others of the Watson family, including a bedridden mother, were only saved by the bravery of a

neighbour na Hamilton. Tli. >ther raid that day was made a few miles away at the Pukekohe East Presbyterian church, in which the bullet holes may still be seen._ Here,, behind a stockade thrown up some days before, a little garrison of settlers held out for. six hours without loss, though the Maoris, who had stolen down from Mere Mere in canoes, had 40 killed. On October 13, one, Job Ham lin, was killed and a lad named Wallis tomahawked, though he made a miraculous recovery. Two days later Mr. and Mrs. Fahey, an elderly couple, were shot while milking their cow? at Ramarama. On October 26, two boys, Richard and Nicolas Trust, were killed in an attack on Kennedy's farm at the, Wairoa, while in the

meantime, on October 23, one of the most desperate encounters of the war had taken place near the Mauku. Hero the Anglican Church of St. Bride’s, still standing in picturesque surroundings, had been loopholed for defence, while a party of militia under Lieutenant D. H. Lusk was camped near by. Firing was heard from a clearing to the south, and it was found that hostile Maoris were shooting cattle. An engagement was forced, but Lusk's i consummate skill was offset by the ' gallant recklessness of two young regu- , lar officers, Lieutenants Norman and 1 Perceval, who pressed forward over- > eagerly, compelling the militia to , fight a rearguard action to save them. ’ Such were the straits of the hard- > pressed force that Heywood Crispe,

a member of a family whose headstones lie white upon the grass in St. Bride’s churchyard, was sent to Drury for help. He galloped the 12 miles in three-quarters 'of an hour, but on arrival there was politely scorned by the English staff-officers, who sent reinforcements only at their convenience, and too late to save the lives of their rash hrother officers, Lieutenants Norman and Perceval, who with six regulars were killed. A Portuguese servant of the Crispe’s was taken prisoner by the Maoris, but spared on account of his dark complexion. Perceval, the slain lieutenant, was the son of an English M.P., and Norman, the other officer killed, had upon him £2OO in notes, the pay for his men, which the Maoris took away, and negotiated, bloodstained and soiled as they were, years after hostilities had ceased. The attitude of the Imperial officers toward Crispe and his mission was often duplicated, and bred much unpleasantness. At one time there was a minor mutiny of Colonial troops at Drury, when the levies flatly declined to unload a coal barge from the Manukau. Those concerned did seven days close confinement, and perhaps were lucky to escape so lightly. The friction survived, however, and found expression in numberless ways. After the October raids, the alarm at the presence of war parties so near to Auckland increased, and H.M.S. Miranda and H.M.S. Esk were sem down the gulf to land troops on the eastern side of the Hunua ranges. Re doubts were thrown up. and thp Maoris driven from the forests. At the same time, Auckland naval vol unteers swept the nooks and fastnesses of the Manukau, capturing the great canoe, “Te topi a tapiri," that is now a prized exhibit in the Auckland Museum. These measures checked the raids The last victim was James Droom gould, killed at the Mauku on November 23. His slayer was later brought to justice and hanged. The frontier war was over, but Cameron’s majestic progress was not. [| Summer was changing the face of the > j landscape along the Waikato. Kowhai | drooped over the stream, and peach

blossoms in the neglected gardens gave the soldiers a sense of home. By the middle of November Cameron had drawn up before the powerful lines at Rangiriri. These were shelled by the invaluable Pioneer, which had difficulty in holding her place in the strong current. Again there was gross mismanagement when the storming equipment to have been taken ashore for the attacking party was left behind on the steamer. In the after noon of November 20, Cameron hurled his men at the Maori position, but the defenders repulsed successive attacks with ease. The British suffered 125 casualties within an hour, six officers and 41 men being killed. But the Maoris had expended their ammunition, and after appealing to the attackers for more—“Ho mai he paura” (give us some powder) they cried — a remnant that had not escaped through the swamp gave themselves up to the British. These prisoners 183 in number, were placed on ICawau, whence they fled in a body on September 11 of the following year, Grey being charged with conniving in their escape. ' There followed another lull. Rewi favoured defending the narrows of the river at Taupiri, a position that would have been practically impregnable, but his counsel was not heeded. The Maoris fell back on Ngaruawahia, but abandoned the half constructed defences there, and concentrated their energies on a huge fortification at Paterangl, on a commanding escarpment between the Waipa river and Te Awamutu. Cameron's reconnaissance of this position convinced him that a direct attack would be far too costly. So he cast about for flanking routes, and in the meantime the troops enjoyed a rest in perfect summer weather. They played cricket beside the Waipa, in the channel of which there was an untoward incident when the Avon struck a snag and sunk, blocking the waterway, so that supplies had to be packed in by way of Raglan. She was raised, but on February 1 was fired on from the scrub beside the bank, her commander, Lieut Mitchell, R.N., being mortally wound ed. The Pioneer at this time was working the main stream of the Waikato as far as Cambridge, where Cameron had established the big Pukerimu encampment. There was a brush with

Maoris at Waiari, near the Waipa, on ! February 11, when a party of warriors > attacked a bathing party. Here Major Heaphy, of the militia, was awarded i the Victoria Cross. The long period j of inaction finally terminated when, | plans to outflank the Paterangi having i been completed, Cameron marched on ‘ Rangiowliia. beyond Te Awamutu, | where the fruitful native plantations j known as “the granary of the Wai- i kato” marked the base of the Maori j army’s operations- The outflanking i movement had been a complete sur prise, and there was only a handful of defenders at Rangiaowhia. Nevertheless, they put up a brave resistance, firing on the attackers from a raupo hut. which was set on fire, so that its occupants were practically inciner- i ated. A shot from this hut mortally wounded Colonel Marmaduke Nixon, j whose monument stands at the cross- ; roads at Otahuhu. So incensed were the troops that when the one man to leave the burning whare stepped forth from the inferno with his hands over his head in token of surrender, he was j shot on sight. “Arrest the man who fired,” cried Captain St. Hill, shocked at the fate of the brave Maori, one of ten who had defied an army. But his order was never carried out. After Rangiaowhia, the garrison from Paterangi, that great, enduring monument to the wasted labour of a fighting race, came pouring back to defend i their villages. Orakau, scene of the ; greatest defence of all, was hastily | but ineffectively fortified. After pre-

liminary sorties, the main attack was begun on March 31, while the Maoris were at prayers. Two charges by the Royal Irish failed, and the investing force, now numbering 1500, settled down to a protracted siege. The defenders were short of food and ammunition, and were reduced to firing wooden bullets cut from the fruit trees inside the pa. A sap was begun, and from it. on the third day. Captains Mair and Mainwaring parleyed with the defenders, saying: “This is the word of the general. Stop. Let the fighting cease.” “Heoi ano. Ka whawhai tonu. Ake, ake ake,” came the defiant reply of Rewi’s emissary. They would fight on for ever, and ever, and ever, and the women would fight on with the men. Then suddenly, at 3.30 in the afternoon, they burst from the pa, moving swiftly toward the lines of the besiegers. There were some discreditable incidents in the running fight that followed The attackers lost 15 killed and 72 wounded, and the defenders nearly 200 killed, many of whom were roughly buried in the trenches, now barely visible in the pastures beside the road through the battlefield. This was the last engagement of the Waikato campaign. Shots were fired three months later on the slopes of Maungatautari, but the skirmish came to nothing. With the retirement of the Maoris into the King Countryfastnesses beyond the Puniu, where even Cameron with his all his legions dared not follow, the seat of war shifted quickly to Tauranga, which had been a source of trouble through the amount of war material passing through the port into the hands of the Maoris. When the port w r as occupied, the Ngai-te-rangi warriors were away with Tamibana, but they hastened back, setting up earthworks at Waoha. and even building a road so that the pakeha soldiers would not be too tired to reach the spot. The taunting challenge did not goad the pakehas into action, so they came nearer, building trenches on a narrow ridge at the Gate pa, where, on April 29, one of the most severe reverses of the war was inflicted on the Imperial troops, the naval brigade being shot to bits in a few minutes of wild confusion. Altogether, 111 were killed and wounded.

But the defeat was avenged in salutary fashion a few weeks later, when the Maoris were routed a few miles inland at Te Ranga. The fatal hesitation of the naval brigade at the Gate pa evoked criticism and a charge of cowardice in the columns of “The New Zealander” newspaper, published at the top of Shortland Street. On the return of the sailors to town, they demanded an apology, which was not immediately forthcoming, and proceeded to rig blocks and tackle about the building with the object of pulling it down. Before that could happen, the editor came forward and delivered his forced apology, for whatever, under the circumstances, it was worth. The Waikato war was now over, but strong garrisons remained at the frontier towns of Cambridge, Hamilton, and Pirongia, and there is no doubt that the presence of these prevented another uprising during the Hau Hau outbreak. Peace between Tamihana and the English was made at Waharoa on May 27, 1865, but Tawhiao did not formally lay down his arms until 1881. In the meantime almost all the fertile country of the Waikato had been con- ‘ fiscated at one swoop. The Maori and | the Pakeha have since laid down their | lives together in a common cause, and the memory of their enmity is for- | gotten. But the grievances left by j the wholesale confiscations, depriving | the Maoris of the land which was their | proudest heritage and the basis of l their social system, still await correc--1 tion.