retreated from 250 savages? But, on the other hand, the Maoris had learnt a lesson. They could not fight against English bayonets in the open, but while taking aim from behind palisades they were safe. Therefore they began in different places to strengthen their fortresses, and Honi Heke added new defences to his pah of Oheawai, which stood in the forest nineteen miles from the coast.
7. Oheawai.—More soldiers were sent from Sydney, and with them, to take the chief command, Colonel Despard, who had seen much fighting against hill tribes in India. He landed 630 men and six cannons; but these latter, being ship’s cannons on wooden carriages with small wheels, stuck in the boggy forest roads. The men had to pull the guns, and they were assisted by 250 friendly Maoris. On the evening of 22nd June, 1845, they spread out before the pah during the gathering dusk. It was a strong place. In the midst of a deep and gloomy forest, a square had been cleared about a third of a mile in length and in breadth. Great trunks of trees had been set up in the earth, and they stood fifteen feet high; between their great stems, a foot or eighteen inches thick, there was just room enough left for firing a musket. Three rows of these gigantic palings, with a ditch five feet deep between the inner ones, made the fortress most dangerous to assault; and in the ground within hollows had been dug where men could sleep secure from shells and rockets. Two hundred and fifty warriors were there with plenty of muskets and powder.
On the second morning the British had got their guns planted within a hundred yards of the palisade, but the small balls they threw did little harm to such huge timber. The whole expedition would have had to retire had not a heavier gun come up. This threw shot thirty-two pounds in weight, and after twenty-six of these had struck the same place, a breach was seen of a yard or two in width. Colonel Despard ordered 200 men with ropes and hatchets and ladders to be ready for an assault at daybreak. In the still dawn of a wintry morning, the bugles rang out and the brave fellows gathered for the deadly duty. They rushed at the breach, and for ten minutes a wild scene ensued. The place was very narrow, and it was blocked by resolute Maoris, who shot down exactly half of the attacking party. Many of the soldiers forced their way through, but only to find a second and then a third palisade in front of them. Then they returned, losing men as they fled, and the whole British force fell back a little way into the forest. That night the groans and cries of the wounded, lying just outside the pah, were mingled with the wild shouts of the war dance within. Two days later the Maoris hoisted a flag of truce, and offered to let the white men carry off the dead and wounded. Thirty-four bodies lay at the fatal breach, and sixty-six men were found to have been wounded.
A week later another load of cannon balls for the heavy gun was brought up, and the palisades were further broken down. A second assault would have been made, but during the night the Maoris tied up their dogs, and quietly dropping over the palisades at the rear of the pah, got far away into the forest before their retreat was known, for the howling of the dogs all night within the pah kept the officers from suspecting that the Maoris were escaping. The British destroyed the palisades, and carried off the stores of potatoes and other provisions which they found inside.
8. Governor Grey.—Fitzroy was preparing to chase Heke and Kawiti into their fastnesses, when he was recalled. The English Government thought he had not acted wisely in some ways and they blamed him for disobeying their instructions. They had more faith in that young officer, George Grey, who, after exploring in Western Australia, was now the Governor of South Australia. He arrived in November, 1845, to take charge of New Zealand; and at once went to Kororarika, where he found 700 soldiers waiting for orders. But he did not wish for fighting, if it could be avoided. He sent out a proclamation that Maoris who wished peace were to send in their submission by a certain day. If they did, he would see that the treaty of Waitangi was kept, and that justice was done to them.
Honi Heke sent two letters, but neither of them was satisfactory; and as more than a year passed without any signs of his submitting, Colonel Despard was directed to go after him. Heke was at a pah called Ikorangi; but Kawiti had 500 Maoris at a nearer pah called Ruapekapeka.
9. Ruapekapeka.—Despard took his men sixteen miles in boats up a river; then nine miles through the forest, and on the 31st December he had 1,173 soldiers with 450 friendly natives in a camp 800 yards from the pah. It was like the other pahs, but bigger and stronger, for behind the palisades there were earthen walls into which cannon balls would only plunge without doing any harm. Three heavy guns, however, were mounted, and when the Maoris sent up their flag, the first shot was so well aimed as to bring its flagstaff down amid the ringing cheers of the white men. All New Year’s Day was spent in pouring in cannon balls by the hundred, but they did little harm. Next day the Maoris made a sally, but were driven back with the bayonet. Meantime, Heke came in one night with men to help his friend, and heavy firing on both sides was kept up for a week, after which two small breaches appeared near one of the corners of the palisades. The next day was Sunday, which the Maoris thought would be observed as a day of rest, but the soldiers, creeping cautiously up, pushed their way through the breaches; a number of the Maoris ran to arms and fired a volley or two, but before the main body could do anything several hundred soldiers were in the place. A stout fight took place, during which thirteen white men were killed. The Maoris, now no longer under cover, were no match for the soldiers, and they fled, leaving behind them all the provisions that were to have kept them for a whole season. This discouraged them, and Heke and Kawiti saw their men scatter out and join themselves to the quieter tribes for the sake of food. They therefore wrote to Grey asking peace, and promising to give no further trouble. Grey agreed, but left 200 soldiers at Kororarika in order to keep the Maoris of the district in check.
10. Rauparaha.—During the eighteen months while Heke’s war was going on, troubles had been brewing at Wellington, where Rauparaha and Rangihaeata kept up an agitation. The latter declared his enmity; he plundered and sometimes killed the settlers; and when soldiers were sent round to keep him in order he surprised and killed some of them. But Rauparaha pretended to be friendly, though the Governor well knew he was the ringleader in the mischief. Grey quietly sent a ship, which by night landed 130 soldiers just in front of Rauparaha’s house on the shore. They seized him sleeping in bed, and he was carried round to Auckland, where for some months he was kept a prisoner, though allowed to go about. Rangihaeata fled into the wildly wooded mountain ranges of the interior. Once or twice he made a stand, but was driven from his rocky positions, with the slaughter of men on both sides. At last he and his followers scattered out as fugitives into lonely and savage regions into which they could not be followed.
Thinking that good roads would do much to keep the country quiet, Grey offered half a crown a day to Maoris who would work at making roads. Quite a crowd gathered to the task, and for a while white men and Maoris toiled happily together, making good carriage roads into the heart of the country. But at Wanganui, in May, 1847, land disputes roused a tribe to bloodshed. They killed a white woman and her four little children; they attacked the town, and when the inhabitants withdrew to a stockade they had made, a fight took place which lasted for five hours, after which the Maoris burnt the town and retreated, carrying off all the cattle. Two months later, Governor Grey reached Wanganui, with 500 men. He chased the Maoris up the valley and fought them, gaining a decisive victory over them with the loss of two white men killed. He gave them no rest till the chiefs applied for peace, and early in the next year a meeting was held, and the principal chiefs of the district promised to obey the Queen’s laws. The war had lasted five years, had cost a million pounds, and the lives of eighty-five white men, besides those of perhaps a hundred Maoris.
The English Government withdrew the larger part of the soldiers from New Zealand; but the colonists, to make themselves safe, enrolled a body they called the New Zealand Fencibles. They were all old soldiers who had retired from the British army, and who were offered little farms and a small payment. Five hundred came out from England on these terms, and were placed in four settlements round Auckland for the protection of that town. They were really farmers, who were paid to be ready to fight if need should arise. With their wives and children they made a population of 2,000 souls.
In this same year Rauparaha was allowed to go home. He was surprised at the permission and grateful for it; but he was an old man and died in the following year. In 1850 Honi Heke died, but Rangihaeata lingered on till 1856, giving no further trouble.
Governor Grey dealt fairly with the Maoris. He paid them for their lands. He hung such white men as murdered them. He set up schools to educate their children, and distributed ploughs and carts, harrows and horses, and even mills, so that they might grow and prepare for themselves better and more abundant food than they had ever known before.
