WEIGHED IN THE BALANCE
Te Rangihaeata survived his uncle by seven years, living during this
time quietly at Poroutawhao. Though ceasing his violent opposition to
the occupation of the land by the settlers, he still clung to his
refusal to traffic in the native estate, either with individuals or
with the Government. Almost immediately after the close of the war,
Lieutenant-Governor Eyre and the Rev. Richard Taylor penetrated
through the bush and swamps which surrounded Poroutawhao, and met the
chief in the very heart of his stronghold. He was then, says Mr.
Taylor, an old man with a head as white as the top of Tongariro, and a
spirit somewhat resembling that active volcano, always fuming. His
white hair strongly contrasted with his bronzed features and highly
tattooed countenance. The missionary thus describes the retreat in
which they found him, and the reception they met with:--
"A long, low, narrow strip of land, running through deep swamp, led
to his retreat; the name of the place aptly describes it, being a
cork, or stoppage, to war, and few would have liked to draw it out.
The _pa_ was on a mound, the only one in the vicinity, and
strongly fortified in the native style, with thick, lofty posts
deeply sunk in the ground, and bound together with a _huahua_,
or connecting pole, running round at a height of about ten feet.
Inside the outer fence there was another, behind which the defenders
could post themselves, and take aim through the outer one. The
_pa_ was divided into a number of small courts, each equally
well defended, and connected by very narrow passages. We found the
chief with his wives and his head men assembled in the chief court,
or _marae_, sitting on mats in front of his house. Fresh fern
was strewed on the ground, and new mats laid on it for us; we were
received with great respect, and welcomed with a loud
_haeremai_: we sat down on the chief's right hand, and conversed
on various subjects, until we were invited to enter a neighbouring
house, where no one followed us, except a neatly dressed and
good-looking lady, who was appointed to wait upon us according to
Maori etiquette: there was a kind of table formed of two boxes, one
placed on the other, with a new red blanket placed over it, and a
form similarly covered in regal style. On the table was placed a dish
of good fresh-baked cakes, another containing sugar, a knife, spoon,
and two basins, one nearly allied to a wash-hand basin in size. The
lady then brought a tea-kettle, and filled our cups with an infusion
of mint, which she called tea. The wash-hand basin was, of course,
placed before the representative of Majesty, who viewed with dismay
its enormous capacity, which, being given him from respect, he could
not well avoid draining to the bottom. After enjoying the Governor's
perplexity, when the lady left the room, I emptied the contents of
our bowls into a calabash, from which our natives were drinking; our
repast being ended, we returned to the chief and sat by his side. The
Governor requested me to ask the chief to sell some land, which I
respectfully declined doing. He then attempted to do so himself: at
first he was not understood, but when the chief comprehended what he
meant, he gave a savage look of defiance, thrusting out his tongue
and rolling about his eyes in such a way, that his Excellency, who
had never seen such a display before, stared in amazement, and
evidently felt anything but at ease. It need not be said that the
land negotiations were speedily terminated, and we were soon
threading our way back along Rangihaeata's swamp-girt road."
Not less interesting was the experience of Lord Charles Butler and Mr.
Carnegie, two officers of the _Calliope_, who, upon the cessation
of hostilities, conceived the adventurous idea of visiting the chief
in his lair at Poroutawhao. Starting from Wellington, accompanied by
Lieutenant Servantes of the 96th, who during the war had acted as
interpreter with the Government troops, and Tamahana Te Rauparaha,
they experienced considerable difficulty in pushing their way across
the country to the place of Rangihaeata's retreat. By dint of
perseverance they at length reached the borders of the swamp
surrounding the small hillock on which the _pa_ was built, and,
meeting some of the natives there, they sent them on to the chief to
ascertain if he would be prepared to receive them. A messenger soon
returned to say that Lord Charles and Tamahana might come on, but that
if Ewie (Lieutenant Servantes) attempted to do so, he would be shot.
Rangihaeata had persuaded himself that Servantes had been acting the
spy in the late proceedings against him. This impression, which was
quite erroneous, doubtless arose from the fact that this officer had
been a great deal in the company of the natives before the outbreak of
hostilities, that he was thoroughly conversant with their language,
customs, and haunts, and consequently was frequently acting in
conjunction with the native allies when no other Europeans were near.
There being no opportunity to offer explanations which might remove
the chief's prejudice, Servantes deemed it prudent to respect
Rangihaeata's mandate, and remained where he was, the others
proceeding to the _pa_. As they approached, sounds and evidences of
excitement, which they were at a loss to understand, greeted them, and
as they drew nearer, several armed natives came out of the _pa_,
pointing their muskets at Mr. Carnegie, at the same time abusing him
with a tornado of picturesque native epithets. This hostile
demonstration arose from the fact that they had mistaken the naval
officer for Servantes; but, when the guides had silenced the clamour
sufficiently to obtain a hearing, the necessary explanations were
made, and the party was led into the _pa_. They found Rangihaeata
leaning against his _whare_, and taking aim at the gateway with his
gun, having fully determined to end the days of the supposed spy if he
dared to enter the _pa_. The introductions were, however,
satisfactory, and, putting away his musket, he gave his hand to his
guests, whereupon his tribe likewise disarmed themselves, and prepared
to extend hospitality to the visitors. Lord Charles opened the
proceedings diplomatically, by presenting Rangihaeata with a few
pounds of tobacco and a red blanket; and, as soon as the chief had
filled his pipe with the fragrant weed, and adjusted the blanket to
his brawny shoulders, he sat down and entered into a most amiable
conversation with the _pakehas_, for whose refreshment he took care
that food should be brought. He plied his visitors with many questions
concerning Te Rauparaha and those natives who were prisoners with him,
and closely inquired of those Europeans with whose names he was
acquainted, making special reference to Lieutenant McKillop, of whose
conduct in the war he had formed an excellent opinion. He was also
exceedingly complimentary to Lord Charles, of whom he said he had
received very flattering reports, but he was equally regretful of the
conduct of his own people in deserting his standard, and spoke
bitterly of his experiences since he had abandoned his _pa_ at
Porirua. These misfortunes did not, however, detract in the least from
his hospitality to his visitors. He begged them to remain with him
until next day, in order that he might have the opportunity of killing
a pig and regaling them with due splendour on the morrow. This kind
invitation they modestly declined, and, after explaining that their
visit was of purely a private nature, and not one which would warrant
them in carrying back any message to the authorities, they took their
leave of the chief, whom they have described as being particularly
dirty, but a fine handsome man.
By his winning ways and the generous use of presents, Governor Grey
several times induced Rangihaeata to leave his retreat at Poroutawhao
for the purpose of holding conferences with him; and when he believed
that he had sufficiently ingratiated himself into the good opinion of
the chief, he ventured to propose the sale to the Government of the
Waikanae district. "It would have been the subject for an artist,"
says one writer, "to picture the indignant look of the chief as he
flatly and rudely refused, telling the Governor to be content with
what he had already got. 'You have had Porirua, Ahuriri, Wairarapa,
Whanganui, Rangitikei, and the whole of the Middle Island given up to
you, and still you are not content. We are driven up into a corner,
and yet you covet that also.'" But, though his overtures were thus
indignantly spurned and rejected, the _mana_ of the Governor did not
suffer any diminution in the estimation of the chief, who to the end
of his days continued to regard Grey with that chivalrous respect
which is extended by one warrior to another whom he deems to be worthy
of his steel.
In 1856, while still residing at Poroutawhao, Rangihaeata was stricken
with measles in a particularly malignant form, but, with his
characteristic recklessness of consequences, he refused to take the
ordinary precautions to facilitate his recovery. Though still in a
high state of fever, he decided to visit Otaki, and ordered his groom
to drive him thither. When passing the Waikawa River, he thought to
abate the fever by taking a cold bath; and, stopping the buggy, he
plunged into the river, from which he emerged with the hand of death
upon him. He was taken on to Otaki, where his malady rapidly increased,
and two days afterwards he passed away. His body was taken back, at
the head of an enormous procession, to Poroutawhao, where he was
buried beside his wife, the _tangi_ in his case being marked by
all the barbarous features of native mourning, interspersed with not a
few of the prevailing European vices.
When in the prime of life, Rangihaeata stood over six feet in height,
a handsome man, magnificently built. Like his more notorious uncle, he
too had features of aquiline mould, lit up by a pair of piercing black
eyes, which instantly flashed out their resentment on any real or
fancied insult. He was exceedingly jealous of his _mana_, and quick
to blaze into a fit of indignation at any word or act which he might
construe to be a reflection upon his authority as a chief. That
authority he frequently asserted by levying toll upon the settlers and
whalers, but never in any case from pure cupidity, or where he did
not, by Maori law, have some good and valid claim to _utu_. Against
these extortions, as they were pleased to regard them, the whalers
appealed to such authority[196] as they could find in the islands; and
when they were unable to obtain what they deemed to be justice in that
quarter, they took the law into their own hands, and tried to rid
themselves of their tormentor by means of the poison-cup. Frequent
attempts were made to poison him at the whaling stations; and we are
credibly informed that, on one occasion, he was induced to swallow a
pint of raw rum heavily drugged with arsenic. But, in their excess of
zeal to compass the chief's death, they had been led to apply too
great a quantity of poison, and instead of its acting as they
anticipated, it merely acted as an emetic. If this statement be
well-grounded, or if the whalers were as Major Bunbury described them
to be, when he visited Mana in order to procure Rangihaeata's
signature to the Treaty of Waitangi, it is not to be expected that
such dissolute associates would afford the chief much light and
leading in the path of rectitude.
The reckless disregard by the settlers and whalers of the sanctity of
native custom was responsible for many of the misunderstandings, which
they have debited against Rangihaeata for malice and mischief; while
no attempt has been made to exonerate him on the ground that he
probably saw the act only from the point of view of his native origin
and upbringing. He was in spirit and in the flesh a Maori, and gloried
in it, openly professing a detestation for the _pakeha_ and all that
he had brought to the country. He affected a supreme contempt for the
luxuries of the white man; but the weakness of human nature had
blinded him to the inconsistency of which he was daily guilty in
acquiring and gratifying an uncontrollable love of tobacco and rum.
When under the influence of liquor he was querulous and violent; but
his drinking indiscretions were generally redeemed as far as possible
by the payment of ample compensation, for, savage though he was,
Rangihaeata was not destitute of a liberal sense of justice.[197] This
he applied to himself as rigorously as to others. When he was flying
before the troops in the Horokiwi Valley, he frequently inquired if
those who were hottest in pursuit were relatives of the victims of his
anger at the Wairau; for to him "a life for a life" was an inexorable
law, to which even he must bow, if the friends of the massacred men
should overtake him. In the cause of what he believed to be the
liberty of his people he did and dared much, enduring intense
hardships for the maintenance of a principle, and when we charge him
with harbouring criminals and refusing to deliver them over to
justice, our resentment against his conduct may be mitigated by the
reflection that his loyalty to these misguided friends was not so much
due to a sympathy with crime, as it was a practical protest against
what he believed to be their unfair treatment by the New Zealand
Company. Rangihaeata stoutly resisted all attempts to convert him to
the Christian faith, clinging to his heathen gods as closely as he
clung to his antipathy to European settlement. His convictions on
these points were deep-rooted and irrevocable; and he died as he
lived, a savage, guilty of much bloodshed, yet not altogether devoid
of nobility. Though he never rose to the level of Te Rauparaha as a
warrior or a statesman, he was, nevertheless, a strong man amongst his
people, opposed alike to the missionary and the settler, but only
because he saw with a prophetic eye that the growing ascendancy of the
_pakeha_ meant the ultimate subjugation of the Maori race. Viewed from
this standpoint--the only one equitable to Rangihaeata--his policy of
hostility cannot be characterised as that of a stubborn rebel, but may
with greater justice be regarded as the policy of a patriot.
The character and personal attributes of Te Rauparaha have been the
subject of much conflicting comment, and the pen-portraits of him
which have come down to us have consequently varied, in sympathy with
the mood or interest of his critics. In physical appearance, all,
however, agree that he was short of stature and aquiline of
feature;[198] and, though at times obsequious in manner, he was
equally capable of displaying an imperious dignity of deportment which
marked him as a man accustomed to wield unquestioned authority. While
in repose, the general expression of his countenance was placid and
thoughtful; but when under the influence of excitement or agitation, a
receding forehead, a furtive glance, and tusk-like teeth, revealed by
a curling lip, detracted considerably from his impressive appearance.
Though upwards of sixty years of age when he came into contact with
the Europeans (for he claimed to have been a boy when Cook visited the
country), he was still possessed of a wiry frame, and was capable of
exerting great physical strength and activity, his limbs being
straight, his step elastic, and his athletic vigour little diminished
by age. Perhaps the most graphic description given of the chief is
that penned by Mr. Jerningham Wakefield, whose cameo-like portrait may
be accepted as faithful, and typical of others given by contemporary
writers of equal integrity, if of inferior literary skill. Wakefield
saw Te Rauparaha for the first time on the morning after the battle of
Kuititanga, from which the chief had just returned; and to the
excitement of that event may be attributed the agitation observable in
his manner, the "wandering watchful glances" he threw around him, and
the air of "evident fear and distrust," all of which contributed so
forcefully to the creation of an unfavourable impression on the minds
of his visitors.
"As we leaped from our boat, he advanced to meet us, and, with looks
of evident fear and distrust, eagerly sought our hand to exchange the
missionary greeting. During the whole of the ensuing conversation he
seemed uneasy and insecure in his own opinion, and the whalers
present described this behaviour as totally at variance with his
usual boastfulness and arrogance. He made us a pious speech about the
battle, saying that he had had no part in it, and that he was
determined to give no encouragement to fighting. He agreed to come on
board the next day, and departed to one of the neighbouring islands.
He is rather under the average height, and very dignified and stately
in his manner, although on this occasion it was much affected by the
wandering and watchful glances which he frequently threw around him,
as though distrustful of every one. Although at least sixty years
old, he might have passed for a much younger man, being hale and
stout, and his hair but slightly grizzled. His features are aquiline
and striking; but an overhanging upper lip and a retreating forehead,
on which his eyebrows wrinkled back when he lifted his deep-sunken
eyelids and penetrating eyes, produced a fatal effect on the good
prestige arising from his first appearance. The great chieftain, the
man able to lead others, and habituated to wield authority, was clear
at first sight; but the savage ferocity of the tiger, who would not
scruple to use any means for the attainment of that power, the
destructive ambition of a selfish despot, were plainly discernible on
a nearer view."
Such was the man who, in or about the year of Bonaparte's death, began
to play the Napoleonic _rôle_ in New Zealand.[199] Like the
Corsican conqueror, to whom his life affords an interesting historical
parallel, he derived no especial advantage from hereditary lineage,
for his place in the Maori peerage was only sufficient to lift him
above the native plutocracy. In his rise to eminence birth played but
a minor part, his path to fortune being carved out by innate
enterprise, inherent courage, wonderful executive capacity, and that
dash of political unscrupulousness which is seldom absent from leaders
of men. From his youth up he displayed masterful qualities of
mind,[200] which infallibly lift their possessor above the level of
mediocrity, and when such qualities are found, whether in savage or
civilised society, the measure of success attained is only limited by
the degree of opportunity offered. Te Rauparaha's escapades as a boy
reveal his natural bravery; his care as a young man for the generous
entertainment of his visitors indicates an appreciation of the value
of a good social impression; his exertions to master the art of war
were sustained by a clear recognition of the fact that authority in an
age of strife was impossible without military success; and his
ambition to furnish his people with guns was just as clearly the
result of the knowledge that military success was impossible without a
weapon as efficient as that wielded by the enemy. It was not any doubt
of the bravery or fidelity of his people that induced his anxiety
regarding their safety at Kawhia, but a conviction that, unless they
could procure muskets and fight Waikato on equal terms, their doom was
sealed.
But there was also that in him which made him hunger for conquest just
as keenly as he desired to evade being conquered; and if the discovery
of an escape from his dilemma at Kawhia was accidental, he was, as a
rule, careful to leave nothing to accident in the execution of his
fully matured plans. The migration from Kawhia to Kapiti was a bold
and daring conception, fraught as it was with difficulties of
transport, peril to old and young, and, more than all, with the
certainty that every inch of the way would have to be either bargained
for or fought for. Yet it is the manner in which the idea was executed
rather than the idea itself that calls for our admiration. It was
characterised by wise planning, discreet forethought, accurate
calculation, clever diplomacy, skilful strategy; and, when all else
failed, there were the strong right arm and the courageous heart to
compel compliance, if compulsion were needed. That Te Rauparaha was
blessed with abundant confidence in his own prowess is demonstrated by
the lightheartedness with which he assumed the rank and
responsibilities of the dying Hape Tuarangi; and it was just this
spirit of cheerful self-sufficiency which inspired others with that
unbounded trust and confidence in him, which enabled him to lead his
people away from the ties of their ancestral home, and induce them to
share with him the dangers and uncertainty of a great enterprise. It
is at least a tribute to Te Rauparaha's talents as a leader that, so
long as the Maori remained unchanged by European influences, he
continued to receive the loyal support and unfailing allegiance of his
people. He was always popular with the masses, otherwise he could not
have accomplished a tithe of what he did. No criticism of Te Rauparaha
is sound which represents him as wholly bad. There is in human nature
a rough method of arriving at what is right; and no public, whether
savage or civilised, will for long tolerate, much less venerate, a
leader whose only policy is his own aggrandisement.
The undisputed position which Te Rauparaha enjoyed in the affections
of his own people, the fidelity with which they followed him, till the
_mana_ of the chief was superseded by the ascendancy of the
_pakeha_, afford proof that they, at all events, were able to
discern some meritorious qualities in him, even though not endowed
with the higher ethical vision of a modern critic. It has been
suggested that, in after years, when dissensions arose amongst the
tribes which acknowledged his chieftainship, the revolt was due to
shattered confidence, this shaken faith being traceable to a belief
that he was treacherously plotting with Ngati-Raukawa to compass the
expulsion of Ngati-Awa from Waikanae. But it must not be forgotten
that, by this period, the advent of the _pakeha_ had created a
new atmosphere around the Maori, and the policy of the missionary in
extolling the convert to the disparagement of the chief had, in a
measure, destroyed the power of the people's leaders. And, in the
general decline of hereditary authority, Te Rauparaha's _mana_
had suffered with the rest. It had therefore become more
difficult--and it may have been impossible--for him to quell
internecine strife by the peremptory means which he would have
employed in the days of his absolute supremacy.
No candid review of the chief's career can, however, fail to take
cognisance of the fact that his methods frequently gave rise to
suspicions of deepest treachery, the doubtful honour of these
proceedings having long since passed into song and proverb. In common
with all successful leaders, he possessed the virtue of keeping his
own counsel. He made his plans, nursed them in his own mind, and, in
the fullness of time, gave his orders accordingly--a secretive habit
which gave origin to the saying: "No one knew his thoughts, whether
they were good or evil." This reticence has, by some writers, been
given an interpretation which does not rightly belong to it: because
he was reserved, therefore he was treacherous. Such a deduction does
not necessarily sum up the whole position. But, even when this has
been admitted, there still remains the imputation of treachery, left
by the derisive songs and proverbs, to be either admitted or combated.
The unblushing apologist for Te Rauparaha might conceivably argue that
these chants were but the creation of prejudiced or malignant minds;
but the charges of deception, amounting to treachery, are too
frequently reiterated to be rejected as altogether groundless.
Barbarous though the Maori was, he had a code of honour which could
not be lightly violated; and when a member of a tribe was killed, it
was not the fact that he was dead which agitated his friends, but the
circumstances of his dying. "Was his death _tika_?[201] Had it been
compassed in fair fight? Or was it _kohuru_?"[202] These were
questions always demanding a satisfactory answer, for the laws
governing life and death were well defined. And, judged by these laws,
it is impossible to hold Te Rauparaha blameless of the crime of
treachery. The killing of the Rangitane chief, Toki-poto, the capture
of the Hotu-iti _pa_, the seizure of Tamaiharanui, and possibly many
another similar deed not so specifically recorded, were all acts of
treachery, and serve to dim the lustre of his larger achievements
conducted strictly in accordance with Maori military law.
Nevertheless, it is possible that there has been much exaggeration in
relation to this phase of the chief's character. When his troubles
with the New Zealand Company began to develop, and more particularly
after the Wairau massacre, it became the mission of a section of the
European community to represent him as the incarnation of all that was
cruel, treacherous, and unspeakably wicked. In this connection it
becomes especially dangerous to accept unreservedly the judgment of
the Wakefields, who were early prejudiced against him by his
opposition to their colonising methods, and were afterwards deeply
embittered towards him by the death of their relative at the Wairau.
Impartiality under such circumstances is almost too much to expect;
and it is only just to Te Rauparaha to say that they availed
themselves fully of their special opportunities for disseminating a
prejudice against him, so that a view so long uncontradicted can
hardly now be eradicated.
In no respect has the reputation of Te Rauparaha suffered more from
bitter hostility than in connection with the Wairau massacre. And we
cannot wonder; for at the time of its occurrence he had arrayed
against him a galaxy of literary talent, such as the Colony has never
seen since, and day by day these wielders of facile pens fed with
scholarly vituperation the flames of racial animosity, which were
already burning at white heat. They spoke of murder; they clamoured
for revenge; and all who failed to see as they saw were exposed to the
darts of their merciless sarcasm. But, with the softening influence of
time, men's hearts have mellowed, stormy passions have subsided, and
we of this day are able to review the facts with more sober judgment
than was possible to those who lived and wrote in the heated
atmosphere of the time. In this unhappy quarrel it must now be
accepted as an established fact that the New Zealand Company were the
aggressors. The Wairau Valley may, or may not, have been included in
their original purchases; but Captain Wakefield knew that this point
was being contested by the natives. He knew further that the dispute
had been by them referred to Mr. Spain, and therefore no reasonable
excuse can be advanced for his attempt to seize the valley while its
title was still subject to judicial investigation. Te Rauparaha's
attitude in the early stages of the trouble amounted to no more than a
temperate protest. He personally interviewed Captain Wakefield at
Nelson; he was as conciliatory in requesting the surveyors to leave
the field as he was decided that they must go; he calmed Rangihaeata's
violence at the conference with Mr. Tuckett; and, as Mr. Spain's final
decision was fatal to the Company's claim, the charge of arson
preferred against him dwindles into a legal fiction. The conciliatory
tone thus manifested by the chief was equally marked in the more acute
stage, which arose at Tua Marina. While the magistrate fumed and
raged, the chief stood perfectly calm. He more than once begged that
time should be taken to talk over the case; but the mad impetuosity of
Thompson would brook no delay in determining a cause the merits of
which he, the judge, had already prejudged in his own mind. For the
precipitation of the conflict which followed, who shall say that the
fault was Te Rauparaha's? It was neither his hand nor his command
which put the brand to the bush, nor does it appear that it was ever
within his power to control the outburst of human passion which flamed
up upon the firing of the first shot. What part he took in the fight
is uncertain. It has never been suggested that he bore arms, and
therefore we may assume that he was an excited spectator, rather than
an active participant in the mêlée. That he was early on the brow of
the hill, after the retreat had ceased, would appear to be beyond
doubt; but his first act on reaching the Europeans was to shake hands
with them, a proceeding which seemed to imply that, even after all
that had passed, his friendship had not been irretrievably lost.
Indeed, there is nothing to lead us to suppose that he harboured any
thoughts of retaliation, until Rangihaeata violently demanded _utu_
for the death of Te Rongo.
This demand placed Te Rauparaha in a serious dilemma. Against any
feeling of friendship for the Europeans which may still have lingered
in his heart, he had now to set a claim which was wholly in accord
with native custom; a right, in fact, which had been recognised by
his forefathers for more centuries than we can with certainty name; a
feature of Maori justice supported by ages of precedent, and which,
imbibed from infancy, had become a part of his nature. This was
undoubtedly the crisis of the tragedy. Had Te Rauparaha decided
against Rangihaeata, there would have been no massacre; but where his
detractors are unfair to him is in appearing to expect that he should
have suddenly risen superior to his Maori nature, and, in place of
allowing his actions to be governed by Maori law, that he--a
heathen--should have viewed the attempt to seize his land and his
person, together with the death of Te Rongo, in the forgiving spirit
of a Christian. No Ethiop was ever asked to change his skin more
rapidly; and if Te Rauparaha failed in the performance of the miracle,
he only failed when success was morally impossible to him. In the
massacre itself he had no share; and, beyond the fact that, under
intense natural excitement, he gave a tacit consent to Rangihaeata's
deed, he appears to have stood outside it.
Of his relations with the whalers, accounts vary. If we accept the
Wakefield view, we must believe that by them he was heartily detested
and distrusted. That he was acquisitive to the point of aggression is
possible; that he was often overbearing towards them may be equally
true, for these are characteristics frequently seen in the powerful
savage; but there are also instances recorded in which he showed a
ready generosity and a strict sense of justice towards the whaling
community.
"The whalers and traders, who had the best opportunity of being
intimately acquainted with him, and that, too, at a time when his
power to injure was greatest, invariably spoke of him as ever having
been the white man's friend. He always placed the best he had before
them, and in no instance have I heard of his doing any one of them an
injury. Speaking of him to an old whaler, he said emphatically that
Te Rauparaha never let the white man who needed want anything he
could give, whether food or clothing; in fact, his natural sagacity
told him that it was his interest to make common cause with the
Europeans, for it was through them that he acquired the sinews of
war, guns, powder, and shot, and everything else that he
required."[203]
The impartiality with which he held the balance between the two races
may be gathered from the following incident: A whaleboat had left
Waikanae to proceed to Kapiti, the crew taking with them a native, who
sat in the bow. On the journey over the Maori managed to secrete
beneath his mat the small hatchet which the whalers used to cut the
line, and was quietly walking off with it when the boat reached the
island. Before he had gone many steps one of the crew whispered to the
headsman what had happened, whereupon that worthy picked up the
harpoon and drove it straight through the Maori's back, killing him on
the spot. The native population was at once thrown into a state of
uproar and fury, threatening dire vengeance upon the whalers, but Te
Rauparaha quelled the disturbance in an instant, and, after inquiring
into its cause, walked away, declaring that the native had only met
with his deserts.
Towards his native enemies Te Rauparaha was unquestionably merciless
and cruel, though not more so, perhaps, than was sanctioned by the
spirit of the times in which he lived. Yet that he was not wholly
incapable of admiration for a worthy opponent is shown by his seeking
out and sparing Te Ata o Tu, the Ngai-Tahu warrior, who fought so
bravely against him at Kaiapoi. Even in this case there are persons
who affect to believe that self-interest rather than chivalry may have
been the moving impulse in his conduct, for he possibly counted upon
so skilful a fighter being invaluable to him in his northern troubles.
But surely we can afford to be magnanimous enough to concede to so
fine an example of generosity a less mercenary motive?[204] Though
relentless to a degree towards those tribes who came between him and
his ambitions, it must always be remembered that his ruthlessness is
not to be judged from the Christian standpoint. His enormities, which
were neither few nor small, were those of a savage, born and bred in
an atmosphere into which no spirit of Divine charity had ever entered.
Compared with the excesses practised in civilised warfare by such
champions of the Cross as Cortés and the Duke of Alva, his deeds of
darkness become less repugnant, if not altogether pardonable.
The attitude which he adopted towards the European was in exact
opposition to that assumed by Te Rangihaeata. He welcomed rather than
resented the coming of the white man, although he found reason to
protest against the methods employed by the New Zealand Company in
acquiring land on which to settle them. Nor in this respect can it be
said that his objections were captious or ill-founded; in fact, with
the exception of the Hutt dispute, the Commissioner's decisions were
invariably a vindication of his contentions. Some doubt has
necessarily been cast upon his loyalty to the Government (which he
accepted when he signed the Treaty of Waitangi), by virtue of the fact
that he was seized and held captive because of his supposed
infidelity. There are those with whom it is only necessary to accuse
in order to condemn. In this case accusation carried condemnation with
it, but condemnation without proof of guilt is injustice. Whatever the
measure of Te Rauparaha's duplicity may have been, the Governor
conspicuously failed to do more than suspect him, and as conspicuously
failed to bring the chief face to face with his accusers. It was never
proved, nor was any attempt ever made to prove before a court of
competent jurisdiction, that Te Rauparaha had held communication with
the enemy. Even if he had so communicated, an easy explanation might
have been found in the native practice, under which individuals in
opposing forces frequently visited each other during the progress of
hostilities. Te Rauparaha had many friends with the rebels, and it
would appear perfectly natural to him to hold friendly correspondence
with them, whilst himself maintaining an attitude of strict
neutrality. Considering the contemptuous disregard which many British
officials displayed towards rites and customs held sacred by the
Maori, it is not to be expected that they would trouble to understand,
or try to appreciate, this subtlety in the native character. And so,
what was to the Maori a well-established and common custom, was by
them translated into treachery, for which Te Rauparaha was made
captive in a manner which leaves us but little right to talk of open
and honourable tactics.
His conduct while a captive on board the _Calliope_ appears to
have been exemplary enough, and he succeeded in impressing those with
whom he came into contact by his quick perception, particularly of
anything meant to turn him into ridicule, of which he was most
sensitive. He frequently became much excited and very violent, and at
other times, when talking of his misfortunes, he would become deeply
moved, and the tears would run down his wrinkled cheeks. It is
recorded that he was very grateful for any kindness shown him; and
when Lieutenant Thorpe left the ship to return to England he expressed
the most intense sorrow, crying the whole day, and repeating the
officer's name in piteous accents. This, it was noted, was not merely
a temporary affection. When, a year later, the _Calliope_ was
leaving the New Zealand station, he sent his favourite a very handsome
mat, begging the officer by whom it was sent to tell Lieutenant Thorpe
how glad he would be to see his face once more, and how well he would
treat him now that he was free. Similarly, when Lieutenant McKillop
was proceeding home, Te Rauparaha took him aside and entreated him to
go, on reaching England, and convey to Queen Victoria his regard for
her and express his keen desire to see her, only his great age and the
length of the voyage standing between him and the consummation of that
desire. "He hoped, however, she would believe that he would always be
a great and true friend of hers, and use all his influence with his
countrymen to make them treat her subjects well, and that, when he
became free again, there would be no doubt as to his loyalty, as he
would himself, old as he was, be the first to engage in a war against
any who should offend her or the Governor, of whom he always spoke
with the greatest respect." During his captivity the news of the
outbreak of the war in the Sutlej reached the Colony, and, noticing
the excitement on board the _Calliope_, he asked to be informed of the
contents of the papers giving details of the battles. In this subject
he maintained the liveliest interest; and, when he had sufficiently
grasped the details, he was perceptibly impressed by the magnitude of
the armies engaged and the tremendous resources of the Empire, about
which he, in common with all natives, had been distinctly incredulous.
That his release was marked by no exhibition of resentment is at least
something to his credit, and the ease with which he afterwards adapted
himself to the strangely altered order of things is proof that his
nature was capable of absorbing higher ideals than are taught in
savage philosophy, although it is doubtful if he ever reached the
purer heights attained by a clear conception of the beatitudes of the
Christian religion.
In the life of Te Rauparaha there is much that is revolting and
incapable of palliation. But, always remembering his savage
environment, we must concede to him the possession of qualities which,
under more enlightened circumstances, would have contributed as
fruitfully to the uplifting of mankind as they did to its destruction.
His superiority over his fellows was mental rather than physical; his
success lay in his intellectual alertness, his originality, strategic
foresight, and executive capacity. He was probably a better diplomat
than he was a general, but he had sufficient of the military instinct
to make him a conqueror. And if, in the execution of his conquests,
the primary object of which was to find a safe home for his people,
the weaker tribes went down, history was but repeating amongst the
Maoris in New Zealand the story which animate nature is always and
everywhere proclaiming, and which, in the cold language of the
philosophers, is called "the survival of the fittest."
[196] "On shore, I was much tormented by the zeal of some European
sailors, who appeared to be a drunken set of lawless vagabonds,
belonging to the different whaling establishments in the neighbourhood.
The only respectable person amongst them was a stock-keeper in charge
of some sheep and horned cattle, and the captain of a whaling vessel
ahead of us. I asked the sailors, who were complaining that some of
the property taken was theirs, if they had any specific charge to make
against Rangihaeata, who was the most powerful chief in the
neighbourhood. However, I could get nothing from them but vague
declarations against native chiefs in general, to which I replied that
the fault was probably as much on their side as on that of the
natives. The old chief, who was present, appeared to understand the
drift of the conversation, for he went into his hut and brought out
several written testimonials of good conduct; on which I desired Mr.
Williams to explain to him how much I was gratified in perusing them,
and that I trusted that under the Queen's Government he would continue
equally to deserve them: that he would find the Government just and
even-handed, and that punishment would follow evil-doers, whether they
were natives or Europeans. To which he replied, 'Kapai,' apparently
much satisfied" (_Major Bunbury_).
[197] "On Saturday (November 24, 1849), Rangihaeata and a party of his
followers paid a last visit to Te Rauparaha. At the Ohau ferry
Rangihaeata demanded some spirits from the temporary ferryman (the
regular one being absent). On being refused, he knocked him down, and
then helped himself, but afterwards tendered _utu_ for the
violence offered and the spirits taken" (New Zealand _Spectator_,
December 1, 1849).
[198] In an enclosure opposite the Maori church at Otaki there stands
upon a pedestal a marble bust of Te Rauparaha. The bust was procured
in Sydney by Tamihana te Rauparaha at a cost of £200, and the
likeness, which is said to be a very faithful one, was copied from a
portrait painted by Mr. Beetham. Because Te Rauparaha had not become
even "nominally Christian," Mr. Hadfield refused to permit the
erection of the bust within the church enclosure, and for two years it
lay upon the common, packed in the case in which it had come from
Sydney. Subsequently, Mr. McWilliam, the native missionary, collected
a few pounds with which to purchase the pedestal, and had the bust
erected where it now stands. On the authority of Dieffenbach and
Angas, it is said that Te Rauparaha possessed the physical curiosity
of six toes on each foot.
[199] It is estimated that during the course of Te Rauparaha's
campaigns no less than 60,000 lives were sacrificed.
[200] Mr. Spain, in one of his reports, has said: "Rauparaha is the
most talented native I have seen in New Zealand. He is mild and
gentlemanly in his manner and address; a most powerful speaker; and
his argumentative faculties are of a first rate order."
"He must have been a most powerful man, and, if his mind had been
cultivated, would, no doubt, have been a most clever one. As it is, he
seldom gets the worst of an argument about his own proceedings, puts
such searching questions and gives such evasive answers, that he
puzzled the best of our logicians on many occasions when endeavouring
to get him to give a decided answer about his not giving us the
assistance he promised when we were trying to capture the murderers
from Rangihaeata" (_McKillop_).
[201] Correct, according to prescribed rules.
[202] Treachery, amounting to murder.
[203] Rev. Richard Taylor.
[204] "I must not omit to mention that, cruel and bloodthirsty as this
man appears to have been, he must occasionally have made exceptions,
as one of his slaves voluntarily accompanied him into captivity on
board the _Calliope_, waiting on him and paying him every
attention for a period of eighteen months, knowing from the beginning
that he was quite free to leave him at any time. He was offered a
rating on the ship's books, but this he refused, saying there would be
no one to wait on the old man if he was otherwise employed"
(_McKillop_).
LIST OF TE RAUPARAHA'S WIVES AND
CHILDREN
{ = Marore (Ngati-Toa)
{ | (the trap).
{ +---------------+-------------+-------+
{ | | | |
{ Uira. Ranga-hounga-riri. Tutari. Poaka.
{
{ = Kahui-rangi
{ | (stranger).
{ +---+------------+
{ | |
{ Hononga Atua
{ (landslip). (god).
{
{ = Ranga-ta-moana (Ngati-Toa)
{ | (day of taking at sea).
{ +-------+-------------------+
{ | |
{ Whetu-kai-tangata Puta-kino
{ (man-eating star). (note of evil).
{
{ = Hope-nui (Ngati-Toa)
{ | (big waist).
{ +---+-----------------+
{ | |
Rauparaha { Motu-hia Te Malata
(leaf of { (cut off). (carry on a litter).
paraha). {
{ = Akau (Tu-hou-rangi)
{ | (sea-coast).
{ +------+------------------------+
{ | |
{ Tamu-whakairia Tamihana Rauparaha
{ (king lifted up). (Thompson leaf of paraha).
{
{ = Kutia (Tu-hou-rangi)
{ | (nipped together).
{ +--+
{ |
{ Paranihia
{ (Frances).
{
{ = Kahu-kino (Ngatirangitihi)
{ | (evil garment).
{ +---------+
{ |
{ Rangi houngi-riri tuarua
{ (day of battle, second).
{
{ = Kahu-taiki (Ngati-Toa)
{ (garment of wicker work).
[Illustration: MAP OF NEW ZEALAND]
UNWIN BROTHERS, LIMITED, THE GRESHAM PRESS, WOKING AND LONDON.
End of Project Gutenberg's An Old New Zealander, by T. Lindsay Buick