CHAPTER XXII

THE QUEEN MOVES

First blood was to the Maori on the 17th of July at Koheroa, near that rectangular bend just referred to which the Waikato river makes towards the sea. The tribesmen had cleverly divided into two columns, one of which swung round through the dense forest on the Wairoa ranges and attacked the British rear, where they forced an escort of the Royal Irish under Captain Ring to retire with the loss of one killed and four wounded. A sharper fight, later in the day, left the advantage once more with the British.

Colonel Austin was in command of the advance post at Koheroa, General Cameron occupying a redoubt on the ranges overlooking the river. The colonel, observing large masses of natives gathering on the ranges to his front, immediately advanced in skirmishing order. The enemy retired towards the Maramarua creek in their rear, but, when two miles had been covered in a running fight, suddenly made a stand in a very difficult position, which they had already fortified with breastworks and rifle-pits, and which, from the nature of the ground, it was impossible to turn.

So terrific a volley was poured upon a detachment of the 14th, which had never till then been under fire, that for all their pluck the lads wavered. General Cameron had just arrived to take command and, seeing the unsteadiness of the leading files, ran to the front, twenty paces in advance of all, and stood there, a mark for every bullet, cheering on his men. British soldiers never yet failed to answer a call like that. The slight hesitation disappeared in a moment, and the men rushed forward and drove the enemy out of their pits at the point of the bayonet. The pursuit was maintained for five miles, the Maori making defiant stands at one prepared position after another--much as the Boers used to do at a later period,--but they were finally driven into headlong flight, with a loss of between sixty and eighty.

The colonists were greatly disappointed when, instead of following up his victory, General Cameron sat down at Wangamirino creek and watched the rebels while they strongly fortified Meri-Meri, three miles distant, making no attempt to dislodge them. Alleging that his transport service must be thoroughly organised, General Cameron remained where he was until the end of October, and all through the long weeks over a thousand horses panted and strained, dragging the heavy commissariat waggons along the forty-mile metalled road between Auckland and the Waikato. The transport service ran grave risk of traps and ambuscades, but, as no vessels suitable for river navigation were available, the military stores could be sent by no other way.

The General at last considered himself ready to advance; but first very properly reconnoitred Meri-Meri in one of the iron-screened steamers which the Governor had sent him. Then, on the 31st of October, he moved forward over six hundred men, left them in position, and returned for another detachment with which to attack the Maori fortification both front and rear. But when he arrived with detachment number two, there were no Maori there to fight. They had abandoned Meri-Meri under the very eyes of detachment number one, instead of remaining, as they clearly ought to have done, to be surrounded. It was as well; for Meri-Meri was very strongly entrenched, and great loss of life must have attended an assault.

The Maori rarely fought as they were expected to fight, and, as in the case of the Boers, their _personnel_ was constantly changing, some of them going home, and others, who had so far done no fighting, taking their places. After the evacuation of Meri-Meri, a considerable number withdrew temporarily from the field, while the rest, reinforced by a fresh contingent, set to work to fortify Rangiriri, twelve miles higher up the Waikato.

Against this General Cameron advanced on the 20th of November with a land force of eight hundred men, five hundred more on board two river steamers, two Armstrong guns and two gunboats, whose duty it would be to pitch shell into the _pa_ from their position on the river. The fort, trenched and pitted, had a formidable look; but the Maori had for once omitted to leave open a way of escape in their rear, and, besides, they were numerically too weak to defend the long line of fortification.

From three o'clock until five that afternoon the gunners poured shot and shell into the entrenchments at a range of six hundred yards, and then the troops, led by the gallant 65th, drove the enemy from the trenches into a central redoubt, which defied all efforts to take it. The men of the red and white roses swung raging back to make way for a contingent of the Royal Artillery and, when these, too, were beaten off, Commander Mayne of H.M.S. _Eclipse_ twice in succession led his jolly tars against the impregnable redoubt. Not even they could succeed, and night closed in on the combatants, putting an end to the slaughter, and leaving the Maori still in possession.

All night long the sappers laboured at a trench, and all night long the Maori within the redoubt kept up a terrific howling, flinging challenges, and occasionally something more practical, at the besiegers; but, when morning dawned, there stood on the fatal parapet a chief of note, and asked for an interpreter. In a few moments one hundred and eighty-three warriors and one hundred and seventy-five stand of arms were surrendered to General Cameron.

The mistakes of Oheawai were repeated at Rangiriri, and the wonder is that the troops got off as cheaply as they did; a fact only to be accounted for by the numerical weakness of the Maori. These knew well the courage of the men arrayed against them; but the desperate valour with which they defended their works helped to convince the British General that they, too, were foemen not to be despised.

The battle of Rangiriri had this great advantage, that it opened the gorge of Taupiri, where disaster might well have overtaken the troops, had the Maori been in a position to defend it. As it was, General Cameron was able to push forward, and on the 6th of December to occupy Ngaruawahia, where King Matutaere had established his headquarters, and where his father, old Potatau, was buried. Matutaere had not waited for General Cameron and, unduly fearful of desecration, had carried away with him the mouldering remains of the old king. One thing he had left behind, as being too heavy for a flying column, and that was a flagstaff of most exalted height, from the peak of which his royal standard had lately floated. The standard was gone, but the flagstaff had not been cut down, and the Union Jack soon proclaimed to any watching Waikato that the first game of the rubber had been won by the British.