CHAPTER XVI

THE FALL OF KORORAREKA

Governor Fitzroy once again appealed to New South Wales for aid and, on the very day on which the soldiers sailed from Sydney, Heke opened his campaign and scored his first success at Kororareka.

A serious attack does not seem to have been anticipated; but a stockade had been erected for the benefit of the women and children, some light guns had been mounted, and the place garrisoned by half a company of regulars and a number of settlers. In addition, H.M.S. _Hazard_ was in the bay, her guns trained upon the approaches to the town.

Heke first gave evidence of his presence by capturing Lieutenant G. Phillpotts of the _Hazard_, though he almost immediately released the gallant officer, in proof, he said, of his pacific intentions. Then, in spite of the watch kept upon his movements, the Maori warrior out-generalled the watchers, and sprung a surprise upon the town.

Late on the night of the 10th of March, 1845, two columns of Maori under Heke and old Kawiti--Hongi's fighting chief--landed at Onoroa and Matavia, close by Kororareka. Heke ambushed his men amid the deep fern in rear of Signal Hill, almost within touch of the blockhouse, while Kawiti disposed his party about the Matavia Pass, on the opposite side of the town. So quietly were these manoeuvres executed, that neither the soldiers in the upper blockhouse, nor the sailors under Captain Robertson of the _Hazard_ on the Matavia side, nor the civilians in the stockade and lower blockhouse had any idea that they were ringed round by a cordon of fighting men under two of the most experienced warriors of their day. Not by the slightest sound did the Maori indicate their presence; not even for the sake of capturing one of the officers who walked through their lines, wholly unsuspicious of their proximity. It was Heke's intention to surprise his foes, and he succeeded perfectly.

As day broke, cloudy and raw, on the 11th, the lieutenant of the regulars went to the barracks to turn out his men. His second in command, a young ensign, who was in charge of the upper blockhouse, by the flagstaff, thereupon left his post under guard of a corporal and fifteen men, and proceeded with a few soldiers to complete an earthwork overlooking Onoroa Bay. Captain Robertson occupied a similar position on an opposite hill overlooking Matavia Bay.

No sooner was the ensign out of sight than a sham attack was begun on the Matavia side, and the young soldier very properly fell back towards the blockhouse. At the same moment the corporal, believing his officer trapped, left three or four men in the blockhouse, and raced with the rest to the ensign's support. He soon realised that the firing was from the Matavia side of the town, wheeled his men and hurried back towards Signal Hill.

But a cloud of Maori sprang without the least warning from the fern and, yelling discordantly, began to harass the little company. Others rushed the blockhouse and slew the few defenders, while their heavy fire convinced the corporal that to regain the place was impossible, and that his wisest move would be to join forces with the ensign. He effected this; but when the officer endeavoured to retake the blockhouse, he was not only held off by the captors of the post, but had much ado to break through the Maori who were stealing round to cut him off from the lower blockhouse.

The action had by this time become general, and the British, though fighting bravely, were getting the worst of it, owing to inferiority of numbers and lack of ammunition.

The British fought sturdily and with dogged persistence, after their usual fashion, and the Maori, brave themselves, never hesitated to give credit to their valorous foes. For years after this historic engagement they told the story of Captain Robertson's fight, how he felled with his own hand five stalwart Maori, one of them a chief of note. Then the gallant sailor dropped to the ground, sorely wounded, while Lieutenant Barclay very reluctantly fell back just in time upon the town, and thence reached the lower blockhouse.

For the Maori had seized the barracks and, surging round the blockhouse, threatened to make an end. But the "Tommies" and the "handy men" were not yet done with, and these, sweeping out without orders, cleared their front of the triumphant foe.

"So all day long the noise of battle rolled"; but nightfall saw the town evacuated, and the women and children safe on board the _Hazard_ and other ships in harbour, whose crews had looked on wonderingly at the success of primitive warriors against disciplined soldiers. Numbers must always count for something; but the "way of the Britisher," which is ever to underrate a foe, particularly if he be of dark complexion, accounts for the success of the Maori that day.

Victory was no sooner assured than the Maori swept down upon the town, looted and burnt it to ashes. Yet so generous--or so stupid, from the soldiers' point of view--were they that they allowed many of the townspeople, with whom they considered they had no quarrel, to take what goods they could and go unhindered. It was as if they had said, "Our dispute is with the authorities. Go you in peace, and learn that the savage Maori can be as chivalrous as the civilised Briton."

Were there present at the sack of the town any of the grosser sort of Maori, who might have been inclined to defy their chiefs and commit those excesses too often associated with the victory of the savage, there were yet two men there to hold their passions in check. For, in and out of the flaming houses, and here and there among the wounded, unmoved by the riot and confusion around them, went all day long Bishop Selwyn of the English and Bishop Pompallier of the Catholic Church, their differences forgot as they united in acts of Christian charity and corporal works of mercy.

So fell Kororareka, with the loss of a dozen killed and a score or so wounded on the side of the defenders, while the Maori lost--so they said--ten or twelve more. But, in addition, the town was destroyed, and along with it fifty thousand pounds' worth of property. It was a signal triumph for Heke and Kawiti, and, worse than all, it taught the Maori to disbelieve in the invincibility of the Pakeha.

So fell Kororareka, one of the oldest settlements--if not the oldest--in New Zealand; nor were there wanting those who averred that the place had brought its fate upon itself and, like a latter-day "city of the plain," thoroughly deserved its downfall.