CONVENT MUSEUM

Sun (Auckland), Volume IV, Issue 968, 10 May 1930, Page 16

CONVENT MUSEUM

BISHOP’S COLLECTION FINDS NEW HOME HONGI’S ROYAL PRESENTS The gold-inlaid sword given by King ; George IV. to the redoubtable Hongi. I A dented "tin hat” wlijch saved an j Auckland bishop from death on the fields of Flanders during the World ! War. A tattered fragment of a onee- j handsome sword sash, a Spanish dagger the dangerous look of which is masked by its bmdsome gold ornamentation. and which is linked to a story of gratitude for a man's life saved. , These are some of the things included in a bequest to the museum of tho Convent of the Sacred Heart.. Remuera. under the will of the late Bishop Cleary. This man of peace had. somehow, come by a queer collection of deathdealing instruments. As chaplain to the forces in Flanders he had seen the horrors of war. Bursting shells made no distinction between paefre and soldier. Bishop Cleary, “somewhere up the line,” saw the flare of red flame, and reeling under a stunning blow on the crown of his head, saw two men on one side of him hurled into eternity. A man on his other side was listed with the wounded. The bishop was saved by his “tin hat,” and was allowed to keep it as a memento of the incident. He also had a collection of other frontline curios—shell fragments, cartridge clips, paper money, badges, Mills bombs, stick bombs. They, too, go to the convent museum. Apart from the personal souvenirs of the World War, the bishop had what might be termed a diocesan collection of relics of the pioneering days in the province, Including grisly reminders of the time when Maori fought Maori, and the pakeha trusted not his brown compatriot. Two ancient bayonets, a lance-head that had been wielded by some unknown whqlehunter, and a cutlass stamped “V.R.” came from North Auckland. They suggest the days of Hongi's wars, but their history is not recorded. The most interesting exhibit is the sword that English Royal favour bestowed upon a fellow-prince of the South Seas. It flashed in New Zealand sunlight in battle, and blood dripped from its keen point. It was a mute Instrument in a never-to-be-forgotten dishonouring of the Maori military code by Hoi»gi, and its gold adornment was crimsoned with the gore of helpless war prisoners, slain by the chief for his daughter's entertainment — some say by the daughter herself. When George IV. welcomed Hongi and Waikato and Ngapuhi chiefs, he loaded them with suits of armour, and arms and gave them dress swords to swagger with. Many aristocratic families in England, members of the military caste, emulated the royal generosity, and when the two Maoris left England they carried quite a formidable armoury, obtained for nothing. In Sydney they were astute enough to trade much of the commercial largess bestowed on them in England for gunpowder, lead and muskets. They also met Hinaki, a chief of the tribes living at the Thames. He, too, had heard of the ease with which his Northern old-time foes had acquired firearms in England, and he was on his way to partake in the, to him, general distribution. Missionary influence, acquainted with native feuds in New Zealand, restrained him, inducing him to go back to Russell in the same ship as Hongi and Wa.ikato. The Ngapuhi and Thames tribes had clashed several times in their history. On the voyage from Sydney, Hongi

told Hinaki to hasten home and fortify ! his pa, as the Ngapuhi would come I down and “eat him and his people.” The immediate reason was that one of Hongi’s men had been killed by a Thames man. The message of war was delivered in customary style. With simulated frenzy, his eyes twisted so that only the whites showed, his tongue protruding and his whole attitude one of death-defying hate, Hongi warned Hinaki. The latter tried peaceful replies and the missionaries essayed persuasion. It. was in vain. Hongi stood on Maori law and he had made war. Hinaki did not dally in Russell. His pa was at Totara, and if all his forces could have been marshalled their strength would have been 5,000. The fortress, backed by the Kauaeranga River, overlooked the Hauraki Gulf, which lapped the white sands embroidering the foot of the pa-cliff (they have now given way to a mangrove swamp). Women and slaves were soon toiling, carrying food and water into the pa to stand a seige; for all the thousands of the tribe would have to be gathered in. The men laboured at making the defences strong. The high stages, overhanging each corner, were laden with stones to crush down the enemy struggling up the slopes leading to the stronghold, and day and night the hawk-eyed look-out men scanned the gulf; chanting their sentry songs through the hours of darkness. Spring had broken in 1821, and October found the Totara pa complete to the last stake, while round about were growing crops. The golden kowhai smothered the edges of the creeks, and She tuis filled the placid mornings with melody, so that even the wisest men began to hope that, after all. Hongi might have relented. Suddenly one forenoon the hoarse bellow of the war trumpet struck terror into the pa folk. The enemy was In sight. Huge canoes paddled steadily down the gulf. The canoes were counted excitedly, for their number would show the strength of the Invaders—two, five, ten, twelve canoes! Eager eyes saw more in the distance. The fleet would be transporting 800 or more fighting men. The armada steadily approached; the horrible images of the bow-pieces foreboding cruelty. Stern posts were ornamented with albatross feathers, banners of war. Hongi saw, only too well, that frontal attacks would fail. After some days he offered a peace, and some of his chief lieutenants even entered the pa. One of them, on leaving, gave a word of warning as he pressed his nose on an acquaintance. Unfortunately, the warning was not grasped and by trickery Hongi secured an entry to the fortress. The Ngapuhis claimed to have slaughtered 3.000 and to have prisonered hundreds. Under native usage, a conquering chief might call on any vanquished leaders by name, and, if they at once surrender they would be treated as visitors, and not suffer in rank when taken to the home of the conqueror. Hongi, still brandishing his bloodwet sword, called on two young men of high rank, Wetea and Tukehu. They surrendered and Hongi led them among his warrior equals. He immediately ordered them to be bound and an earth oven to be made. The significance of the order was but too apparent, and the captives realised that their confidence had been betrayed. Spear in hand, Hongi stood readj', but Wetea, the older of the two captives, asked that he might have time to sing the song of farewell to his people and the world. The old savage paused; after all, he could wait a few minutes. In firm voice, Wetea was chanting his song when Hongi suddenly called out that Tete, his son-in-law, was among the slain, and in demonical rage, despite the attempts of his lieutenants to stay him, drew the sword that Royalty had given him and sliced a piece of flesh off Weteas breast and threw it on

the fire. The singer hesitated a mo- ■ ment, then raised his voice to end his chant. Having said farewell to the i earth and kin. he looked Hongi full in the face and tauntingly asked, “Is that the worst you can do?” The answer was a sword thrust. Tukehu suffered the same fate. Such a gross breach of war honour caused the chiefs Te Morenga. Te Wera and others to decline Hongi's company on the home journey. When the expedition returned to Russell, and Hongi's daughter learned that her husband had beu slain, her grief was intense, and her lamentations piteous. It is said that she reproached Hongi for the use of pakeha arms against the Maori, and that, in an effort to appease her. he walked along a canoeful of bound prisoners beheading them as he passed. Others assert that the woman, in her uncontrollable remorse, seized the fateful sword and murdered 16 females among the prisoners. She later com mitted suicide, and. on the authority of the story supplied the bishop, used the self-same sword that Hongi had dishonoured at Totara. It is a far cry from New Zealand to the Irish insurrection in 1798, but with the relics includes a piece of magnificently embroidered sword sash, still handsome in its frayed forlornness, which was made by the “loyalist ladies” of Newtonharrv, Wexford. Ireland. for Colonel Walpole, aide to the Lord-Lieutenant. The colonel, along with General Loftus. was stamping out the rebellion in that part of Ireland. They combined in an attack on Cerriguam, but in the winding pass of Thibberneering they fell into an ambush. The stunted bush covering •the steep sides of the pass suddenly vanished as concealed men jumped to the attack. The colonel was among the first to fall. His three guns and his banners were lost; his forces (the Fourth Dragoon Guards. Ancient Britons, since renamed Welsh and Antrim Militia) were dispersed, and the untrained countrymen won their first engagement. The colonel's sash was preserved, but just, how it came to New Zealand has yet to be made public.