"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 - "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).] 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 - "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).] 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 - 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.] 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 - It is estimated that during the course of Te Rauparaha's campaigns no less than 60,000 lives were sacrificed.] 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 - 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).] 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 - Correct, according to prescribed rules.] Had it been compassed in fair fight? Or was it kohuru?"[202 - Treachery, amounting to murder.] 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 - Rev. Richard Taylor.]
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 - "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 CHILDRENMAP OF NEW ZEALANDShewing routes taken by Te Rauparaha and Te Puoho in their various raids] 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."
LIST OF TE RAUPARAHA'S WIVES AND CHILDREN
MAP OF NEW ZEALAND
Shewing routes taken by Te Rauparaha and Te Puoho in their various raids
notes
1
"The distinguishing characteristic of the Marquesan Islanders, and that which at once strikes you, is the European cast of their features – a peculiarity seldom observable among other uncivilised peoples. Many of their faces present a profile classically beautiful, and I saw several who were in every respect models of beauty" (Melville).
2
"I found that the Natives had not formed the slightest idea of there being a state of future punishment. They refuse to believe that the Good Spirit intends to make them miserable after their decease. They imagine all the actions of this life are punished here, and that every one when dead, good or bad, bondsman or free, is assembled on an island situated near the North Cape, where both the necessaries and comforts of life will be found in the greatest abundance, and all will enjoy a state of uninterrupted happiness" (Earle).
3
"It is most certain that the whites are the aborigines. Their colour is, generally speaking, like that of the people of Southern Europe, and I saw several who had red hair. There were some who were as white as our sailors, and we often saw on our ships a tall young man, 5 feet 11 inches in height, who, by his colour and features, might easily have passed for a European" (Crozet's Description of the Maoris at the Bay of Islands).
4
The knowledge which the Polynesians possessed of the Southern sea, and their skill as navigators, was such that when "the fleet" set out from Rarotonga, they did not go to discover New Zealand, but they went with the absolute certainty of finding it.
5
"Man of the land, native, aboriginal." Probably these people were a mixture of the Melanesian and Polynesian types.
6
On this occasion Hotu-nui is credited with having addressed his people in the following terms: "Friends, hearken! Ours was the first canoe to land in New Zealand before any of you had arrived here. But let this be the proof as to which of our canoes landed first. Let us look at the ropes which the various canoes tied to the whale now before us, and also let us look at the branches of the trees which each have put up in building an altar, then the owners of the rope which is the driest and most withered, and of the altar the leaves of which are the most faded, were the first to land on the coast of the country where we now reside."
7
After the canoe left Whanga-poraoa the first stopping-place was at Whare-nga, where the crew amused themselves with various games on the beach. To mark the spot, one legend has it, they placed one large stone on top of another, while a second story has it that this monument, which is still existent and is called Pohatu Whakairi, represents one of the crew who was turned into stone. The next point of interest was Moe-hau, now known as Cape Colville. They then landed at Te Ana-Puta, where, it is said, the canoe was moored to a natural arch of rock jutting into the sea. For some reason the anchor was left at a spot between Wai-hou and Piako, and under the name of Te pungapunga (the pumice stone) is still to be seen on the coast by those who are curious enough to look for it. The course was then deflected slightly to the west, and the canoe crossed to Whaka-ti-wai and coasted along the mainland past Whare-Kawa, where, it is said, Marama, one of the wives of Hoturoa, desired to be put ashore with one of her male slaves. Here they were left, and, according to one version of the tradition, it was her misconduct with this slave which prevented the crew dragging the Tainui over the portage at Otahuhu. The canoe then went on, some accounts say, as far as the North Cape, and others seem to imply that she was shortly afterwards put about and, returning into the Hauraki Gulf, sailed past the islands of Waiheke and Motu-Korea, until land was once more made at Takapuna.
8
Now called Mount Victoria or "Flagstaff Hill."
9
Waitemata may be interpreted as "the waters of volcanic obsidian," no doubt a reference to the eruptive disposition of Mount Rangitoto.
10
Otahuhu signifies "ridge-pole." This portage is only 3,900 feet long and 66 feet high.
11
There are different versions of this tradition, some attributing the transfixing of the canoe to Marama, others crediting her with releasing it. The version given in the late Sir George Grey's Polynesian Mythology has been here adopted.
12
Some authorities are of opinion that the Tainui was not taken across the portage at Otahuhu (ridge-pole), and they base this contention upon the fact that no traditional marks have been left inside the Manukau harbour. All the points of interest which have been handed down, and are remembered, are on the sea coast; and from this circumstance it is argued that the canoe was never in Manukau harbour at all. Others say that some of the skids of Tainui were left at South Manukau Heads.
13