CHAPTER XXVI

ALARMS! EXCURSIONS!

Though the war occupied her supreme attention, it must not be supposed that New Zealand stood still. The plucky little daughter of Great Britain kept her eyes open and, though her hands were reasonably full of swords and guns, found other work for them to do. June, 1866, saw the commencement of a mail service to Panama, which vastly accelerated communication with the northern hemisphere; and, before August was out, the Government had laid a submarine cable across Cook Strait, bringing the extreme north of the North Island and the extreme south of the Middle Island within a few minutes of one another.

In October, 1867, the Board of Revenue rejoiced at the passing of an Act imposing stamp duties; the scholarly and aesthetic were gladdened by another Act which provided for an institute for the promotion of Science and Art in the colony; and, lastly, the Maori were rendered happy by an Act which, while it showed great wisdom, proved conclusively the desire of the British Pakeha to deal in most generous spirit with their native fellow-subjects. This Act provided for the division of the colony into four Maori electorates, and the admission of four Maori members to the House of Representatives. When it is remembered that a large number of the native population were at the very moment in arms against the State, the lavish generosity of this measure must excite profound admiration.

The intellectual and high-minded Maori were quick to learn, and as quick to put in practice the knowledge they acquired. From the first, although they quarrelled with them, they admired the Pakeha and recognised their superiority. Indeed, but for their ruling passion, they would probably have much earlier amalgamated with the whites. This, as we have seen, was their attachment to their land, which they regarded as sacrosanct and inalienable; and from this Naboth-like devotion sprang much of the trouble between them and the Pakeha.

The theatre of war having shifted again to the west coast, General Chute took command on the retirement of General Cameron. There was nothing of Fabius in General Chute, who was accustomed to follow up as speedily as possible whatever advantage he might gain. _Quot homines, tot sententiae_; so many men, so many ways of doing things; and it is just as well. Had General Chute commanded from the first, the war might have been sooner over; but there would never have arisen the need for the colonists to take their own part, and they must have been much longer in learning their good qualities of strength and self-reliance.

Throughout January, 1866, General Chute with his regulars, colonials and the Maori contingent punished the Hauhau, who had learned by painful experience that they were not invulnerable. He beat them at Okotuku, and chased them out of Putahi, where Major McDonnell was so severely wounded in the foot as to be rendered unfit for active work during the remainder of the campaign. Yet, so indispensable was the Major because of his immense influence with the Maori, that, despite his suffering, he remained with the force lest, finding him absent, his men should march off home until their leader was able to rejoin them.

Notwithstanding the experiences of others in the not very remote past, General Chute determined to assault the well-garrisoned _pa_ of Otapawa, and on the 12th of January the Armstrong gun roared a challenge to the Hauhau. Grimly silent, the defenders kept so strictly to cover, that General Chute, half-inclined to believe that they had escaped, thought it unnecessary to wait until the Native Contingent and volunteers (_kupapa_) had worked completely round to the rear. So he ordered Colonel Butler and his "Die Hards" (57th), supported by the 14th, to storm the stockade.

He had barely finished speaking when he received a practical hint that the _pa_ was not empty; for a bullet carried away one of the buttons of his tunic. "Aha! The beggars seem to have found me out," General Chute coolly observed. "Go on, Colonel Butler."

Colonel Butler went on, Lieutenant-Colonel Hassard beside him, and the "Die Hards" close behind them. The Hauhau had removed every vestige of cover from the front of the _pa_--which fact alone should have warned the General that the place was occupied, and by a skilful foe--and, as the 57th came on, they were greeted with a volley from the covered rifle-pits which staggered them, veterans of Sebastopol though they were.

"Come on, Die Hards!" shouted Colonel Butler, and the gallant fellows charged over the glacis, dropping fast and losing Colonel Hassard on the way. Enraged, the men tore down the palisades with their bare hands and drove the enemy helter-skelter out at the rear of the _pa_ into the clutch of Von Tempsky and his Forest Rangers. Thirty-two of the Hauhau fell, while General Chute lost a colonel and eleven men, not to speak of twenty wounded. A little patience, siege instead of assault, and the stronghold might have been reduced without loss. As it is, the action is memorable as being the only occasion during these wars upon which a well-defended _pa_ was ever taken by assault.

Whereas General Cameron would never go near the bush, General Chute now determined to march through it a distance of sixty miles to Taranaki, and sweep the enemy out of his path. But General Cameron despised the native levies, while General Chute realised their value, particularly when led by such a man as Major McDonnell, and it cannot be gainsaid that their presence greatly contributed to the success of the bush march.

But for McDonnell and another, General Chute must either have chosen another route, or have marched without the Native Contingent, for the Maori, men of the Whanganui district, decided not to go to Taranaki, alleging that "it was too far from home!" Nor would they have yielded either to advice or persuasion, but for the timely arrival in camp of Major McDonnell and Dr. Featherston, the Superintendent of the Wellington Province, who, like the major, exercised unbounded influence over the Maori, and particularly over the men of Whanganui.

These two, upon whom the fortunes of the Colony more than once depended, summoned to their tent the aged paramount chief, Hori Kingi Te Anaua, and bluntly asked him whether the friendship which had for years existed between him and Dr. Featherston was to be broken. The old man looked for a long time in silence at his questioners, and then left the tent without a word. His voice presently reached them as he addressed the crowd of Maori thronging there to learn the result of the interview:--

"Listen, you who have refused to march with the Pakeha. This is my word to you. I will go with them, though I go alone. But hearken! If you desert me and them, never more will I dwell with you in Whanganui. I have spoken!"

There was a moment of silence, and then the words of the old lion-heart prevailed and yells of "_Kapai! Kapai!_" were blent with shouts of "We will go! We will go!" The situation was saved; General Chute marched through the bush in nine days (January 17th to 25th) skirmishing as he went, reached Taranaki, and the campaign came to an end. With it practically ended the employment of the regular forces in New Zealand, as far as active service went.

How valuable was the aid which the friendly Maori gave is illustrated by the following incident, related by Lieutenant Gudgeon in his reminiscences.

At the close of General Chute's operations a detachment of the Native Contingent stationed at Pipiriki, a most picturesque spot on the upper Whanganui, made themselves so agreeable to the rebels, that the Hauhau chief, Pehi Turoa, invited the friendlies to meet him at Mangaio and discuss the situation. Some four hundred accepted the invitation and, led by their chief, Mete Kingi, went up-stream in their beautiful canoes to the conference.

As they neared the rebel _pa_, Mete Kingi said characteristically, "Once these men were Whanganui like ourselves, and then they were good; but no faith can now be placed in them. For who would trust the word of a Hauhau? You know, my children, it is Maori etiquette to show confidence in your hosts; therefore, fire off your guns, that they may see our faith in them; but load them as quickly and quietly as you can, in case they mean us harm."

So said, so done. The Whanganui discharged their guns with deafening clatter and, before they landed, unobtrusively reloaded them. There was fortunately no breach of faith, and the upshot of the conference was that the contracting parties swore to maintain an eternal peace on the Whanganui river, but reserved the right to fight in any other part of New Zealand. Thus, entirely in their own manner, did the friendly Whanganui bring peace to an important district, long convulsed with war.

McDonnell, now colonel, continued operations on the west coast, particularly against the Nga-Ruahini, one of whose chiefs, Titokowaru, then and afterwards gave much trouble. The colonel was very successful, and the Hauhau learned that his methods were not those of the military, for he employed their own tricks against them. One of their captured chiefs grumblingly said to him, "We thought that we were fighting a man; but we find that he is a rat, who moves only by night." "Nay, O Toi, you thought that you were fighting soldiers," returned McDonnell, probably with unintentional sarcasm, "whereas you find that we are Pakeha Maori."

The war swung round to the east, and the Province of Hawke's Bay, hitherto almost immune from "alarms and excursions," found itself in the thick of it. The Ngati-Hineuru and other tribes had joined the new sect; but, when they broke out, the Superintendent, Sir Donald McLean, was ready for them. With the help of Colonel Whitmore, Major Fraser and Captain Gordon with his volunteer cavalry, he stamped out the spreading flame, and Hawke's Bay once more grew calm after its brief flurry.

The year 1867 was for some reason styled by the Hauhau "the Year of the Lamb," that is, of peace, and, save for a skirmish or two, and some fell murders here and there in true Hauhau style, they remained quiet They were terrible folk, and their behaviour differed unpleasantly from that of the ordinary Maori in time of war; but some of them had not altogether lost that simplicity which, despite their intelligence, is characteristic of the race.

For instance, having declared the year to be one of peace, they failed to understand why their confiscated lands should not be restored to them. Some, too, observing that the friendly Maori were rewarded with pensions and land, complained that they were omitted, when they also had fought (against the Pakeha!) much as a child grumbles because he does not receive a prize for his misdirected efforts. One Hauhau gentleman did actually apply to the Commissioner for a pension, and was mortally offended when the great man dismissed him in terms more forcible than polite.

The hopes raised by all this talk of peace were falsified, not only by the activity of Titokowaru and his Nga-Ruahini, but by the sudden and quite unexpected appearance of a man who was destined to set the country ablaze, and to incur the bitter execration of thousands in the war-worn North Island.