PAGES FROM THE PAST.

Taranaki Daily News, 31 December 1921, Page 9

PAGES FROM THE PAST.

THE ATTACK ON WERAROA. ' SOME REMINISCENCES. (By “Juvenis.”) Last week I gave a brief outline of the career of Titokowaru, the fighting chief, and incidentally mentioned the fight at Weroroa. This has produced an account of the fighting in that locality from “W.H.D.,” who, writing from Wanganui, says:— Wanganui, at the time of the fighting, was a very ylifferent place from what it is now. n’hen the place was full of soldiers and “war alarms.” Regiments were constantly arriving with their gallant young officers, who were great favorites; .-ergeants-majorA, color-sergeants and drum-majors strutted about proud as peacocks, and full privates with their forage caps set rakishly on their closecropped heads ogled the girls and looked as killing as they could. Military trained men with their horses like perambulating kitchens; generals with their staffs looking brilliant in the morning sun; Maoris in gaudy shawls and feathers moved about and made up a kaleidoscopic picture which once seen was not soon forgotten. Yes, those were the days of excitement and brisk trade, for the troops caused a lot of money to be circulated and helped to make many wealthy. Officers were flying about seeing after contracts; local youths were earning good wages as bullock drivers, as oxen drew not only commissariat drays heavily laden with stores, but cannon and ammunition; there were grog and tents being served out, and all- the bustle of an army preparing to start against an enemy. The volunteer and militia officers were as busy as the devil in a gale of wind, drilling the raw recruits who were soon to be under fire to get a practical acquaintance with real war., before which they had to do picket and sentry duty in and around the town; many of them in fear and trembling, as there were constant rumors that the

MAORIS WERE LURKING ABOUT THE VICINITY, watching for a chance to attack the place under cover of darkness. Bugles were constantly sounding and drums being beaten; military bands played stirring music, and the pomp and panoply of war—glorious war—were strongly in evidence. Now and then a military funeral would sadden the sight of the inhabitants as some poor fellow was taken to his last resting place to the solemn strains of the Dead March in Saul or Beethoven’s funeral march, the gun carriage having at times to cross Churton’s Creek at high

water up to the horses’ chests and the mourners to get over higher up. Then on Sunday mornings there were the church parades, the men marching to the different places of worship to the music of the bands, which played them back to barracks when the services were over. Then there were the military trials, including one of murder, a color-sergeant having shot the adjutant of his regiment. Some of the prisoners, whose bf-

fences were small, had to carry water up, to the barracks on the top of the Rutland Hill, from a pump behind the English Church. I fancy 1 can still hear the discordant squeal of the old pump handle. No more military prisoners to grasp your handle, no more thirsty soldiers to drink from your rough mouth. Ah! me. what gushing fountains of cool sparkling water you dispensed, unheeding the oaths of the soldiers against the officers who condemned them to so many days’ hard labor for drinking liquids not half as

wholesome as that from your tap. Close to you stood the old church with its tottering steeple and its graves where soldiers and civilians slept well after life’s fitful fever under the w’rflows and oaks in their spring mantles of rustling green, all unmindful of the bustle and noise around. In those days we had no town clock, but we heard the bugles at stated hours and knew it was time to get up when we heard the reveille and to go to bed when “lights out” was sounded Often at night when “first post” was heard, you would meet soldiers running like deer to get into the barracks in time, and then all would be quiet, save for the occasional challenge of a sentry, or the bachanalian song of some too festive Tommy Atkins in the guardroom, whose head would “confoundedly ache on the morrow” when he was brought before officers and perhaps condemned to a week’s hard labor for drinking “not wisely but too well” of Foreman’s XXX! But the time came for THE TROOPS TO MOVE TO THE FRONT. I shall never forget that second of January, although I cannot call to mind the year, when 1 saw them march up de Avenue, a sight I shall never see again. There were bullock teams hauling cannons. drays heavily laden with stores, and military train horses, branded with big letters, carrying the usual utensils and impedimenta of a regiment on the march. In that long line of red coats were portions of the 18th Royal Irish, 50th (Queen’s Own), 57th, 65th, 68th. 70th, and other regiments whose numbers I have forgotten. Military bands were playing martial music to whose inspiriting strains the men stepped out briskly and the officers’ 'hargers pranced proudly as though conscious of what it all meant. The cavalcade must have been a mile long. They were gone, and the town was very quiet. When they reached Kai Iwi they camped in the beautiful paddocks overlooking the sea. Their next move was to Nukumaru, where they camped near the bush, which gave the enemy an opportunity to fire the grass and fern to windward of them and to attack the camp under cover of thg blinding smoke. Some of the young soldiers who had fallen asleep, tired out. were tomahawked before they could get their arms and defend themselves. A chief’s wife took a leading part in the attack, which, coming so unexpectedly took the troop- by surprise and created a panic. The Maoris seized a young soldier and dragged him off with a rope around his neck. His cries could be heard for a long distance off as they prepared to torture him. A military train man put spurs to his horse and dashed in among the Maoris, cutting down one and shooting another, thus giving the prisoner a chance to grasp the stirrup leather to which he clung whilst his rescuer lode back with him running alongside the horse, the rope being still round his neck! I now come to THE WERAROA EPISODE, in which I had to take part, as it was “the boys’ fight,” there being so many Wanganui lads in it, some of them being ha rdly big enough to told the hea\y gun to their shoulders. On a Sunday about November 1, 1868, news came into Wanganui that, two settlers at Waitotara had been caught by Titokowaru’s men and that ft little Maori girl had cned for

them not to be killed. The child being a near relative of Titoko’s, the natives consulted as to whether they should spare the prisoners or not. While they were consulting, a friendly native gave them the hint to escape, and they took it. The officer commanding the district called out the first class Militia in Wanganui, and about 40 of us were collected and ordered to the front! Some of us had only just left school, and were very young for such work, but we had to go. We were served out with a few biscuits and a blanket each, and.oh! don’t I remember that heavy rifle and the 60 rounds of ball cartridge I had to carry. How my shoulders did ache under this load, which seemed to get heavier every yard I carried it! Well, we left the Avenue, opposite the Rutland, as far as 1 can remember, about 3 o’clock in the afternoon, and marched to the Westmere and had a cup of tea, and then went on to Peat and Alexander’s, where we slept in the wool shfd. The late Wilmot Powell was our captain, the late Edward Broughton lieutenant, and Mr. Witehell ensign. Messrs. George Scott and Thomas Waters were sergeants. Next morning, at 3 o’clock, I was ordered with another ]ad to go about a mile away and wake up the carters. We had to go through some paddocks in which were a lot of rushes All at once my companion stopped, and in great alarm said he saw something moving, pointing to the spot. I ca-lmed his fears by telling him they were sheep he saw! When we got to the Brighton Hotel we found the carters just moving. When the main body got up we got down to the beach and were ordered to load with ball cartridge. This looked serious, and most of us began to think of home and friends and wonder whether we should ever see them again, as the natives were supposed to be very near and very ferocious. Many of us had never loaded a gun before, and some of the boys put the bullets in first! However, we marched along barefooted, having taken off our boots to cross the Kai Jwi stream. When we got to the Okehu we halted for breakfast, after partaking of which we began our weary trudge across the heavy sand dunes, Tom Waters leading with his long-legged stride. The Wanganui Cavalry passed us and I wished it had been my luck to be a horse instead of a foot soldier, as iny poor shoulders were being cut into by the cross straps supporting the heavy load I had to carry. We got to the

WERAROA REDOUBT that afternoon, and found some A.C. men there. We were kept standing for some time, and don’t I remember those 60 rounds of ball cartridge! At last we were allowed to “dismiss,” and I got rid of my load in double quick time. I can assure pou. We managed to get quarters for the night in a Maori w ; hare. whilst in which a shot was fired by a sentry. What a stampede there was for the redoubt! We could see two huge fires which Titoko’s people kept up night and day, which some of us thought were to roast us if we fell into the enemy's hands. The A.C. men left us to go to Oketuku. They tried to frighten us so as to be able to stay with us. However, the poor fellows had to go, and most of them were killed, as our side got the worst of that affair. Most of the friendly natives also left us, and we got very anxious when w-r heard the firing in the distance. At night after the fight it was very pretty to see the friendly Maoris signalling to their friends at the Wairoa redoubt with blazing torches. All we could make out was that there had been a

VERY GREAT FIGHT INDEED. A day or two afterwards the wounded friendlies came into our camp, and I can well remember one poor old Mori man crying when he met his friends again. We then learned that Colonel Whitmore had been defeated <*vith heavy losses, and that he had retired with the native contingent to Wairoa (Waverley)’. The natives left uh, first putting up a flag, which was. no doubt’, a signal to the rebels to lot them know we were left to our own resources. However, we were soon reinforced, as Corporal Tapi in arrived with a detachment of militia men from Wanganui. This brought our number up to 55. Things had begun to look very serious by this time, and we had taken the precaution to cut ‘loop holes so that we could use our rifles without exposing ourselves to the fire of the natives. It was fortunate we did so. as the result would have been very different had we not done so. The sentries had orders to fire without challenging, and we were called out to man the ramparts at 3 a.m., not a word being allowed to be spoken, as this was the time the natives generally made their attacks. Captain Po veil kept us well drilled for nearly a fortnight, during which time we had to sleep in our clothes with our guns alongside us ready for firing, and" our cartridge boxes under our heads for pillows! J well remember one night when a sentry fired. In an instant we were all under arms and ready to defend ourselves, but it was a false alarm. However, we had not long to wait for a real one, as at 4 o’clock in the afternoon the MAORIS OPENED FIRE ON THE WERAROA REDOUBT. “A real fight at last.” we excla.med. and some of us began to think of home and friedds, and did not feel very coutfortable, as we knew the Maoris gave

ri quarter to their opponents. Af< ?r a whu.? there was a lu’ll in th’e tiring rrom tae retires, and Lieutenant P.rough:on called out tn them in Manr : : “Send some of your men to fight, and not a lot of boys.” To this a Maori replied in good English: “We not boys; we will come and let your insides out to-morrow.” Here was a nice prospect for us of b»ing roasted in the big military ovens which we had erected outside the redoubt. Our answer to this threat was to hoist up a red blanket on a pole as a flag of defiance. The Maoris retorted by dancing the war dance, making a horrible din, to frighten us no doubt. Their women urged them on from a distance,, and we could hear their shrill voices above the firing and yells of the dancers. We answered by shooting and shouting at them, and calling on them to come on. The bullets by this time were whistling over our heads pretty thickly, and it was almost laughable to see our boys ducking their heads, as if they could dodge the bullets that way! The chief then

got the men together to rush the redoubt, and Lieutenant Broughton told us to get oiiir bayonets fixed without delay to repel them. “Now for life or death” was the thought, that passed through my brain as I fixed my bayonet, and resolved to use it if they came close, enough. However, they seemed afraid to do so. As darkness fell the block house was fired, and by its light as it burnt we. were able to see if the Maoris attempted to rush the redoubt. I was ordered to fire my rifle .in our rear, so as to let our opponents know that we were on the look-out on that side. A HOT TIME. ■Some of the Wanganui boys in the angle of the redoubt had a hot time of thanks to our having the loopholes to fire through, we escaped injury

from the fire of the enemy. At 9 p.m. the bugler sounded the “first post," and* this was the signal for a terrific volley from tlhe natives, the bullets flying all around us, but hurting no one, as we were all under cover. This was the last of the attack, as not another shot was fired by the natives that night. 1 had to go on guard after this. Next morning, the 13th, no help came, but as noon as I was marching backwards and forwards with my rifle on my sQioulder doing “sentry go,” I saw in the distance a troop of horsemen,, riding towards the redoubt at top speed, and stopping and going on again, as if in doubt as to whether the place was in the •hands of' the natives or not. At last they galloped up, and Captain Newland, who was in command, told us we must evacuate the position in half an hour. We told him we had been attacked, and 4 were told again to clear out in five minutes. Then commenced the destruction of everything we could not take with s; such a smashing of bottles of spirits and destroying of flour, bread and other stores. The canteen building and its contents were given to the flames, and then we

MARCHED OUT OF WERAROA, which we had defended so successfully, and began our retreat in accordance with Colonel Whitmore’s orders. We had to pass through the bush, and did so in two columns in case of an ambush, the Cavalry ‘leading the. way. The smoke of settlers’ houses burning could be seen in different directions, and it seemed as if the natives were in possession of the whole coast line, and the pakehas being driven in to Wanganui. Just as we got to the bush we got a start, as a lot of men jumped up; tfliey’proved to be A.C. men, and we were very glad to meet 'them, as wc knew we were safe. We could see Titokowaru’s tents about half I a mile or so inland, so we knew the enemy could not be far off. We came up to Colonel Whitmore and Mr. George 'Hutchison soon after passing through the bush, and gave the gallant Colonel a cheer. When we got into camp at Nukumaru Colonel Hamilton addressed ns, and complimented us on our valor, after which we started on a?ain and reached Kai Iwi. where we remained for the riiglit. Next morning we were astir betimes and got into Wanganui about noon, to the intense relief of many people who had friends and relatives in our little band of heroes, which, they had been told, had all been tomahawked by the natives