The East Coast Wars and the Legacy of Te Kooti

On the 2nd of March 1865, the Reverend Carl Volkner, Protestant missionary, was hanged by Maori from a tree near his own church. Volkner was accused of spying for the government. He was a kind and pious man, but the charges of espionage are well documented. He shook the hands of his killers even as he was being hoisted to his death. Kirioka Tahao, a Paimari there missionary, is said to have eaten Volkner's eyes, describing one as Parliament and the other as the Queen in English law. This incident triggered the East Coast Wars. the altar of his own church. The wars his death sparked raged for more than seven years from 1865 to 1872, bringing fire and sword to a vast chunk of the North Island. This seven years war was really a complicated tangle of intersecting conflicts, a bloody kaleidoscope. Some were civil wars within Maori tribes, as well as struggles between Maori and Pākehā. Whatever their politics, the East Coast wars killed more unarmed people than the rest of the New Zealand wars combined. The government forces in the East Coast Wars were a combined army. Pakeha in alliance with Kupapa Maori. Ngati Porou was a leading Kupapa tribe whose great chief, Ropata Wahawaha, became a dominant figure in the East Coast Wars. His fearsome reputation was entirely justified. Although they became the right arm of the colonial government, Ngati Porou had once been supporters of the King Movement. So when Paimaridem missionaries brought their message of tribal unity to the coast, some Ngati Porou listened. As a result, the Paimaridem message, urging peace and unity, split the tribe and sparked civil war. Ropata and his fellow Kupapa had to fight for ascendancy within their own tribe. During 1865, Ngāti Porou fought a fierce and bitter civil war. The Paimarerai faction held the ascendancy at first, winning a victory at Tikitiki. on the 20th of June but subsequently government guns gave Ropata the whip hand. He won the internal war and forced his Paimare Reginald to swear allegiance to Queen Victoria. Thereafter the newly united Ngati Porou took their lethal... message to other tribes, becoming a Kupapa elite on the east coast. It's important to remember that they were expanding their own influence as well as that of the government. Kupapa had their own reasons for fighting with Pakeha against their fellow Maori. It was partly that they did not see other Maori as being their own people. Each tribe was a people unto itself. Kupapa resisted notions of pan-tribalism which were at the core of the Pai Maori. their movement. The word kupapa means passive or lying low. Their actions in war were far from that. During 1865 and 1866, with Ropata and his Ngati Porou prominence, government forces attacked Paimare supporters in several parts of the East Coast. Their lands were devastated and, in some cases, confiscated. By 1867, the East Coast lay largely quiescent. The bare feet of Kupapa warriors feared no less than the Pakeha jackboot. These conflicts resulted in the capture of hundreds of Paimare de prisoners who the government thought were too dangerous to jail on the mainland. The Chatham Islands were chosen as a safe and distant penal colony. The Chathams lie 860 kilometers east of Christchurch, so distant. But some do not regard them as part of New Zealand at all. In this barren but majestic landscape, there are still reminders of the first inhabitants, the Moriori, a Polynesian people of the Chatham Islands, shrouded in myth and mystery. One myth is that they'd died out, but like their ancient drawings, they survive. At the main Chatham settlement of Waitangi, The East Coast exiles were made to build their own prison, as well as barracks and a redoubt for their guards. The prisoners'quarters were communal huts built of ponga. This is the only one which remains. Somewhere in this rare photograph of East Coast prisoners is probably a man named Takuti Arikirangi. verifiable individual photographs of him exist, he never stayed still long enough. As a young man in Poverty Bay, The Kooti had defied both Pākehā and Maori authority. A successful trader and sailor who spoke English and understood Pākehā ways, The Kooti had been jailed without trial. He was to become the most wanted man in New Zealand history. Thakoti and his fellow exiles found life on the Chathams hard and cold. Some were joined by their wives and children and there was some friendship between prisoners and guards. But abuse and beatings were common and the guards spent most of their time drunk. The prisoners had been told that their exile was temporary and were promised a fair trial. When nothing happened, they began to lose hope. They feared they would never see their homes again. It was The Kooti who restored their hope. While sick with tuberculosis, he saw a vision of the Archangel Michael and experienced a religious awakening. He began preaching a new religion called Ringatu, the upraised hand. That's the origin of this belief. They say, but they need to be Maori. If they are Maori, this belief will remain true Maori. He's said to have stood on this beach and prophesied that if a ship did not arrive soon, the waves would biblically part, enabling him and his people to walk home to New Zealand. Perhaps fortunately for him, a real arc of deliverance did arrive on the 3rd of July 1868. the form of the government schooner rifleman. The rifleman had arrived from Wellington with a cargo of stores and was to take back a shipment of wool from the Chathams. The day after its arrival, the prisoners were unloading the ship when just before 2.30pm the most remarkable jailbreak in New Zealand history began. The guards were suddenly seized and bound. Waitangi was patrolled to prevent the news spreading, all guns were collected up, and the rifleman was captured by Prismas posing as a working party. Even in the frenzy of intense but carefully planned activity, only one guard was killed, against Takuti's orders. The veteran warrior Pita Kotuku was among The Kooti's 300 followers on the captured ship. When The Kooti was ready, we went on board. We took a supply of water and cans. The riflemen had plenty of stores in the hold. I witnessed the throwing overboard of one of our people, an elderly man called The Ward. The Wārihi had done nothing but croak, predicting an evil end to all of us, and had frightened some of the more timid men, so that they were almost ready to turn around. The Wārihi did not make any outcry, nor did he struggle. He went down like a stone. I was in great fear. The sailors on board the schooner were treacherous and were steering for Wellington instead of Poverty Bay. I understand the compass. I told them to go the right course or they would be thrown overboard. Many of the Maori had been laying beds in Pākehā fashion as to when land would be sited. The mountains of the North Island were seen just after the sun rose, and there was loud rejoicing among the people. The Kooti landed at Whare Ongonga, south of Poverty Bay, with 162 men, 64 women and 71 children. He released the... Rifleman and its crew unharmed, giving each sailor a present of cash. The whole escape had been carried out with little violence and great efficiency, impressing even government official G.S. Cooper. It's difficult to say whether one is excited more with the precision, rapidity and completeness, or by the moderation shown in the hour of victory by a gang of barbarous fanatics. My name is Pita Moeau. I am a descendant of The Kooti, from Rongowhakaata, Ngati Ruapane. I am. To my mind, The Kooti would have seen landing here at Whare Ongonga as the beginning of a new journey. The escape from Whare Kaori, the escape from the deprivation, the hardships there. And also an opportunity to start on a journey where he could reclaim that which had been taken from him. Before leaving Whare O Ngaunga, The Kooti had tried to persuade the government to leave him alone, promising peace in return for freedom. But the government would have none of this, and ordered colonial and Kupapa troops to chase and capture the escaped prisoners. These forces were led by Colonel George Whitmore, the most formidable and tenacious of the Pakeha military leaders. In July 1868, three strong columns set out in pursuit of The Kooti and his followers. Despite being heavily outnumbered, The Kooti managed to defeat his pursuers in two encounters. A third took place on the 8th of August, when The Kooti took up a strong position in a gorge in the Rua Keepaturi Valley and waited. Whitmore's scouts spotted some of Tukurti's party and the government forces moved into the attack. But as the troops struggled in single file up the boulder filled gorge, Tukurti's warriors fired on them from hidden positions. The colonial troops, supported by Kupapa warriors, put up a courageous fight, but try as they might, they could not take Tukurti's position. The Kooti then led his people to safety in an isolated spot on the fringes of the Uruwera mountains. Here he planned his next move. He knew that the hunt was on and that his sanctuary could only be temporary. He had had enough of being the hunted. In November 1868, The Kooti and his warriors descended upon the Maori and Pākehā settlements of Poverty Bay. Turanga, now known as Gisborne, was the port for Poverty Bay. In 1868, it was a small settlement with just a few hotels and stores. Its main out-settlement was Matawhiro. As the settled country on Poverty Bay flat was approached, The Kooti's attacking force was divided into several raiding parties. I was in a party of about 50 men and armed with a rifle and bayonet. The Kooti allocated each party its special task, all designed to paralyze the defenders. As the night of 9-10 November unfolded, Poverty Bay's doom crept up on it. This church is the only surviving Matawhiru building of the 1860s. It served the European settlers of the district, who were mostly part-time members of the colonial forces. They were commanded by Maori Reginald Biggs and Captain James Wilson. There had been reports that an attack by Thecote was imminent, but false alarms had made the commanders wary of overreaction. Biggs and Wilson believed that their scouts patrolled every possible route by which Thecote might attack. As he watched the smoke rise from their burning houses on the morning of 10 November, Postmaster John Gleddy realized that they had been wrong. The Hohaus are on us. I expect before this reaches you, the whole place will be destroyed. I can see the smoke of burning houses as I write this. We next attacked the house of Maori Biggs. Volleys were fired into the house after the door was broken. Biggs and his family were shot. I witnessed the slaying. The next house attacked. was Captain Roosevelt. Captain Wilson had just gone to bed when Amari knocked on the door. He saw the outline of a number of heads and suspected that mischief was intended. The natives began to fire into the house. Captain Wilson returned the fire at the natives, who then proceeded to fire the house. The flames and smoke soon drove the inmates out. Meres. Wilson's hair and the feet of the little ones were scorched. Captain Wilson had his revolver, but the natives suddenly stabbed him through the body with a bayonet. Meres. Wilson turned round. And as she uttered a cry of horror, she received a thrust with a bayonet, her arm being pierced, trying to shield Jessie. When she regained consciousness, it was daylight, and she saw her husband and the children, with the exception of Jimmy, lying dead around her. The wondered what they'd done to Jimmy. Jimmy managed to find help, and a rescue party brought in Ellis Wilson. It was hoped in time she'd recover, but she succumbed to the wounds which had been inflicted upon her. Maori victims too. A survivor, Maria Mere, left this eyewitness account. He said, God's told me to kill women and children. Later to court he said to me, don't you have another husband except me? No, I replied, is that the reason you killed my husband? I will never marry you. He replied, Maria, if you talk like that, I will cut your head off. The Pakeha victims of the raid were killed on the 9th and 10th of November. The Maori victims met their fate in the succeeding days, while The Kooti controlled Poverty Bay. The local Maori were his own people, and he offered some the chance to join him. One who did was He Kume Kume, who became The Kooti's favourite among at least eight wives. About 50 people, Maori and Pākehā, were killed in Takoti's raid. Pākehā reactions ranged from terror to rage and often confused the two. The wildest imagination could hardly have conceived of a more terrible calamity than all the annals of the struggles of civilisation against man in his natural savage state. Nothing more appalling has ever been recorded. As vengeful colonial and Kupapa forces massed against him, The Kooti withdrew from Poverty Bay, laden with loot and prisoners. He fortified his followers at the mountain stronghold of Natapa. The government eventually massed over 700 men. Most were Maori, including 370 Ngāti Porou kupapa and a unit of Aroa armed constabulary. There were also almost 300 crack Pākehā troops hardened in the war against Titokowaru in Taranaki. The commanders too were formidable, George Whitmore and Ropata Wahawaha. On New Year's Eve, 1868, the combined army laid siege to the great mountain pa of Ngāti Porou. Natapa lies 60 kilometres west of Poverty Bay. It was an ancient tribal stronghold, the summit of which reminded observers of a giant tadpole. Natapa was impregnable to assault, and Whitmore and Ropata found that just getting there was arduous. The tracks were so bad that packhorses fell over, and everything had to be brought in on men's backs. It was even tougher for the soldiers in the siege lines. Clinging to the steep slopes of the mountain in hastily scratched out trenches, they suffered daily casualties from Maori sniping. Night and day, the government's soldiers inched forward their trenches. The Russians were worst of all here inside Natapa itself, where everything was running short. The desperate garrison was casting bullets in thimbles using pewter spoons looted at Poverty Bay. But the government's siege lines continued to move closer and to link up. As night fell on the 4th of January, Whitmore and Ropata were absolutely certain that their noose was now tight around Takoti's neck. On the 6th of January, to their astonishment, they found that the garrison had gone. The government Maoris cut us off from the spring, which was our water supply. The stronghold fell because... because of lack of food and water. Our position became desperate and it was decided to escape under the cover of night. We let ourselves down the cliff in rear of the pa by means of forest vines. The lowest part of the cliff where I went down was about 60 feet high. I escaped the bush pursuit made by the Ngati Porou, but many of our people were captured and shot. When it was realized that The Kooti had escaped, the Kooti... were unleashed in pursuit. For two days they chased the fugitives through the bush. Eventually more than half were captured and brought back to Ngātapa. The women and children were mostly unharmed, but 120 of the captured men were taken to the summit of Ngātapa. They were lined up and asked a few questions. Then they were shot. Maori Kupapa did the killing, but it was authorised by government officers. Ironically, the dead bodies which tumbled from the summit of Natapa probably also included Takuti's prisoners. The double tragedy is that Poverty Bay was avenged partly on its victims. Takuti's escape from Natapa seemed miraculous, but it was still a heavy defeat. He had allowed himself to be besieged in a power without a decent escape route. Natapa was a traditional rather than a modern Pa. Takoti had proved himself a world master of guerrilla warfare, but not of the modern Pa system. Yet he still inspired fierce loyalty among his dwindling number of followers. Sitting up on top of this maunga, one can't help but think about the courage and loyalty and fortitude of the people that supported the koati because of the terrain that they had to cover to get up here. And from here we can look back and see Turanganui, off in the distance and across this way to Whare Ongo Onga, and then behind us through to the The country. And knowing that they were ill-equipped, ill-prepared, One can't help think of the loyalty that they showed to this man. By now reduced to around 100 supporters, Takoti based himself in the Uruwera Mountains. Seeking ammunition, supplies and supporters, Takuoti launched raids on Whakatane and Mohaka. More unarmed people were killed, others joined Takuoti. After each raid, he returned to his Uraweta sanctuary. A frustrated Colonel Whitman... decided that the only way to stop The Kooti and his raids was to invade his mountain refuge. In May 1869, combined forces of 1300 colonial and kupapa troops entered the inviolate Uruwera. Now the The people paid a high price for their support of the most wanted man in the country. Villages and cultivations were destroyed as Whitmore's forces crossed and recrossed the Huruweta, pouring automatic carbon fire into every potential ambush site. Many of the troops came down with dysentery, including the tough little Whitmore who was purging and vomiting the whole day and had to be carried in the fire. the litter. But the terrain was too rugged and the conditions too difficult and eventually the invaders withdrew, cheated of their elusive prey by The and their mountains. Although he had escaped, The Kooti realised that Whitmore's invasion meant his Uruwera refuge was no longer secure. In the hope of obtaining fresh support, he decided to risk a 300km journey inland to Lake Taupo in the heart of the North Island. On the way... His scouts, under the deadly warrior Theragi Tahao, discovered a cavalry patrol at Opepe, northeast of the lake. Takoti's men boldly entered the cavalry's camp, posing as kupapa, and killed nine of the fourteen careless troopers. So in June 1869, Taupo learned that The Kooti had arrived. From Taupo, The Kooti and his followers journeyed another 150 kilometers northwest to Tokangamutu, the capital of the King movement. Whether The Kooti was seeking an alliance or hoping to overthrow King Tahao as the head of Maori resistance is unclear. Certainly, his mana clashed with that of Ta-Fiao and other Qingite leaders in several non-violent but tense encounters. The government trembled at the prospect of union between their great enemies. But it did not happen. In August, Takoti returned to Taupo to carry on the fight by himself. Two months later, government forces attacked him at his new pa of The Porere. The colonial forces now included troops freed up by the collapse of Titokowaru's resistance in Taranaki. Their commander was Colonel Thomas McDonnell. The formidable Maori Keepaepa The Rangi Hiwenui of Whanganui really called the shots. Who's got that bulldozer? We described the battle in a letter to the king. On the third day, we attacked at three o'clock in the afternoon. The enemy fired a volley at us. When close up, we fired a volley. The enemy retreated. Then the power was rushed. Tiwiki jumped up and shot a ho-ho dead. In about a minute, 30 of the enemy fell. They were lying as thick as a heap of sharks. Three of the Maoris were killed and one year later, European makes for. Other Kupapa were wounded, including Kenana Takawepo, a Kahununi chief. A woman whose husband had been killed leapt on him like an enraged tigress and gouged out his right eye. Porere Kotaku was there. At Porere, we built a strong redoubt, but it had one defect that resulted in our defeat. We could not see our attackers unless we exposed ourselves over the top of the pyramids. It was I who shot Captain St. George as he was leaving. leading his men in the charge up to the front of the pah. Not The Kooti, as some have said. Defeated at The Porere and unable to get King support, The Kooti realised his long-term chances of military success were slim. The Porere cost him fewer casualties than Natapa, but it was his last major stand in a prepared position, in his last attempt at anything other than raid, ambush and escape. He withdrew. west into the king country, sovereign territory which pursuing government forces dared not enter. Takuti was safe from government forces in the king country, which was under the mana of King Tafia. But Tafia would not permit Takuti to stay for long. Takuti was prepared to fight on if he must, but he was also prepared to start peace negotiations. In January 1870, he asked to meet the Auckland land baron, Joseph Firth. To the annoyance of the government, Firth agreed, and the two men met at Matamata in January 1870. Thecote stood before me. He's about 35 years of age, stoutly built, broad-shouldered and strong-limbed. A rather large development of jaw and chin conveys the idea of a man of strong and resolute will. He has no tattoo, wears a black moustache and a short black beard. I noticed he'd lost the middle finger of the left hand. Firth urged that Thecote surrender, but his desire for peace did not extend that far. If they let me alone, I will live quietly. If not, I will fight. The Kooti also tried to make peace with his Maori enemies, among them Kupapa of The Arawa. From 1864 to the end of the wars, most The Arawa consistently supported the government. There were advantages. Government food and money ensured that the Kupapa, like the government troops, could be full-time warriors. This gave Kupapa the upper hand when fighting resisting Maori, who still had to feed themselves and their families. The alliance also made it easier to deal with tribal enemies. At a hui at Makatu in 1864, a young British officer heard how some of the Ottawa chiefs planned to settle old scores. The chiefs assembled in a marquee from the centre of which rose a lofty flagstaff bearing a British ensign. The queen was toasted in brandy, rum and cider with the words, The is the fountain of all good. May she send us plenty of powder, plenty of rum and may both... Be strong! End the jail! The first resolution proposed was that the lands of all who have carried arms against the Queen ought to be forfeited to the Crown. This was agreed to with all the decision and liberality which usually characterizes the actions of men who are dealing with the property of their foes. Alliance with the Pākehā and the relationship with the Queen was important to The Arawa. But they did not see themselves as fighting for the government. From their point of view, the government was fighting for them. Nominally, kupapa were led by European officers, but these were usually ignored by the warriors they commanded. An exception was Lieutenant Gilbert Mai, who had real influence over the younger Arawah warriors. His Aroa Flying Column became one of the most formidable units of the New Zealand wars. Tough light infantry combining the best and most merciless of both Maori and Pākehā warfare. From them, no bush refuge was safe. The Kooti's peace overtures resulted in an invitation by the elders of The Arawa to a conference on the banks of Lake Rotorua. Mere and the younger Arawah warriors were thought to be far away, sniffing Takoti's cold trail. But as the meeting began, Mere and more than 200 of his men suddenly appeared. Believing that Takoti intended treachery, Mere threw down the white flag being carried by the Ottawa elders. He and his men then engaged Takoti in a fierce running gun battle. The flying column were crack troops and well-armed. Mere alone fired 58 bullets from his ultra-modern carbon during the pursuit. The chase began only a few hundred metres from Takoti and his people, who included many women and children. Their survival depended on a small rearguard of 30 men. 20 of these were killed off one by one during the desperate retreat. Their sacrifice enabled the main body to escape to the old sanctuary of the Uraweta Mountains. New and his men returned to their base camp at Kaitariria. They were deeply disappointed. 20 corpses were a poor second prize to the annihilation of Takuti. But what they did get was a photographic record of the day. I'm marching back, weary and scratched and torn, to my military post at Kaideri Ria, on the shore of Rotokakahi. I found that a photographer from Dunedin, a Mere Mundy, had arrived. Mere Mundy was so impressed with the picturesque appearance of my force that he begged me to halt the column. A hundred men, while he snapped them. On the right you can see a portion of The Kooti's famous flag, The Awepo. The always displayed when he had a blood fit on him. Between 1870 and 1872, most of New Zealand began to prosper through the borrowing schemes of Julius Fogel. Railway lines and telegraph lines sprang up and the whole country began to modernise. But merciless armies still rampaged through the Uruwera Mountains, hunting Takuti and his people. The armies were now wholly Maori, led by men like Ropata of Ngati Porou, The Pakeha of The Arawa, and Keepa. of Whanganui. Once again, The villages and cultivations went up in smoke, and people were killed neutral or not. On some occasions, The pointed government forces the wrong way and secretly gave food and information to The Kooti. But in 1871, government pressure forced The to hand over another fugitive from Pākehā justice. Keepareopa, one of the men said to have killed the Reverend Carl Volkner and eaten his eyes out of Portaki at the start of the East Coast Wars. He was hanged at Napier in 1872, still maintaining his innocence. Peace. None are condemned. Greetings to you. This finishes my lamentations to you, my tribe, to the land of... But... The Kooti's mountain camps were repeatedly found and attacked. Each time he escaped, but his following was gradually worn down. Finally, in May 1872, with only half a dozen supporters, he left the war-torn Uruwera and took permanent refuge in the king country. Earlier, he had left behind this letter of defiance. To all government men, sirs, this is a word... Minister to you. You must give up chasing me about because I am in my own place, the bush. This murderous purpose of yours in pursuing me is like a rat rooting dung. You must give it up, so beware. I sent you some of my young men to carry my letter warning you, and you attacked them. Cease then to complain about your own killed. There were young men who loved their country, that is all. If you dislike these words, what does it matter? All the worse for you. ...Takoti and accepted Tahao's policy of combining independence with peace unless attacked. This meeting house was erected to seal the partnership between Takoti and his king movement guardians. In 1883, the government tried to open up the king country by peaceful means, and as part of the deal, Takoti was given a pardon. But it carried conditions which kept Takoti in a kind of captivity. I think one of the most important things to realize was that firstly he wasn't allowed to return home. So there was a lot of pain and grief around that issue for him. Secondly, after having been pursued for so long, he had moved to a place within his belief where he put more of his time and energy into building the church. Thirdly, he was given a piece of land. in conjunction with the pardon that was given to him, but that land had already been confiscated from another iwi. So I think there would have been some sadness and perhaps some thought about putting as much effort as possible into creating something that would remain, which would become ultimately the church. They are hitting the tune. The Kooti's pardon was not well received by Parehaka New Zealand. He had long been portrayed as the most savage of war criminals and caricatured as an unreliable drunk. Few believed he would remain peaceful. But when Government Minister John Bryce delivered the amnesty, The Kooti was unequivocal. He said to the Minister of Native Affairs, Your peace is only where your lips are. Minister is forever. Forever. I will not harm another person again. And that's when he quoted the words Ko atutaki te mahi tahurāku te pono Ko akihi ki a rāua te tika me te rongo mau He tipu ake te pono i te whenua He titira ho te tika i te rangi He hoanore, he kōloria, he maunga a rongo ki te whenua He whakaaro pai ki ngā tānta katoa And from that day to this day That peace, that treaty still exists today. Tukurti died in 1893. His Ringatu church lives on. The Kooti left one other legacy, a solution to an historian's debate about what we actually call these wars. They've gone under many names. Two popular favourites are the Maori Wars and the Land Wars. I myself prefer the New Zealand Wars, as did an earlier historian, James Cowan, in the 1920s. I think the case for the New Zealand Wars is strong, and here at the Wainui Marae, or Kiwa, I found that the precedents were strong too. Here, on a monument to The Kooti erected by his own Ringatu Church in 1908, we find the words, Ngā pākanga nunui o Aotearoa, The Great New Zealand Wars. Though Maori came much closer to victory than legend allows, the Pākehā won the New Zealand Wars. But it was not a knockout, it was a narrow victory on points. Kupapa shared in the victory to some extent, obtaining rewards such as the four Maori seats in Parliament, but they soon found that the government's friendship was almost as dangerous as its enmity. In military terms, the remarkable thing about the New Zealand wars was not the eventual Maori defeat, but the degree of their success along the way. Intelligent Maori military thinking and their invention of the modern past system as a means of neutralising British advantages meant that the Pākehā victory did not come through superior war technology or superior brain power. In the final analysis, the Pākehā won because of their overwhelming numbers. 19th century atlases which colour the whole of New Zealand imperial British pink. We are looking at a myth on a map. The end of the wars marked the turn of the tide against Maori independence. But the strength of Maori resistance meant that tide ran out very slowly. For no less than 50 years after the main body of the wars, independent Maori districts survived, where Pakeha law was irrelevant and trespassers were executed. The King movement killed Pakeha, who transgressed its laws as late as 1880. The King Country was the largest and best known of these houses of resistance. Another house of resistance was at Pakeha in central Taranaki, where a remarkable pan-tribal movement developed from the 1860s, led by The Whitman Orongo Mai and Tohu Kakahi. Pakeha was a substantial township, its population swelled by supporters from other regions. It accepted Pākehā economics and technology and was said to have had electric lighting before Wellington, but it did not. not accept the Pakeha state. Pakeha's resistance was far from being passive as it is sometimes described, but it was non-violent. Yet the state was not certain of this and Pakeha remained independent. From 1877 the government tried to prize open Pakeha. It surveyed land in preparation for sale and settlement. The profits responded with non-violent but well-organized resistance, notably the mass plowing up of survey lines. This resistance was temporarily effective. But in 1881 the government pulled out its biggest stick in the form of 2,500 troops, 1,600 of whom marched on peaceful Pakeha in November. The prophets were imprisoned, the town was dismantled, and that was the end of Pakeha as an independent Maori state. It was not the end of Pakeha as a focus of Maori identity. A third house of resistance was in Northland. Here, Maori independence was protected by the tradition of Tāmati Wakanene as well as that of Honeheke and Kāwiti. In 1864, 20 years after Gray's so-called decisive victory, victory at Ruapekapeka, Frederick Manning wrote, Here in the north there is no more hope of establishing the supremacy of the law than there is of flying in the air. In 1898, conflict with the government came very close in an incident known as the Dog Tax War. The prophet Honetoya, based at Waimā in Honeheka country, rejected government authority. If dogs were to be taxed, men would be next, he said. The government sent in 120 troops, two cannon and two machine guns, supported by a gunboat and 60 naval volunteers. Honetoya and 70 men lay in ambush. According to one Pākehā observer, they would have slaughtered our men without being seen. But Honaheke, great nephew of the 1840s Resistor and a Maori member of Parliament, was able to mediate and prevent bloodshed. Honetoya and his chief supporters were imprisoned. It was to be 1916, 73 years after the New Zealand wars began at Wairau, before the final house of Maori resistance fell. As the Great War raged in Europe, another war ended in the mists of the Uruwera Mountains. In the 1900s, a new prophet emerged among the The of the Uruwera. Rua Keepanana, a successor to The Kooti in the leadership of the Ringatū Church. When he came here, our ancestors would go to the court in Whareowango. He would come to Ngai Tūhua. That tradition and belief was passed on through Ngai Tūhua, and it was passed on through the Mataatua region. this magnificent assembly house, the last structure one would expect to find in the middle of the Uruweta Mountains. Rua's policies were peaceful and progressive. He strove to modernise trade and agriculture and experimented with banking and mining. But his policies were also independent, rejecting Pakeha law and taxes. At one point, Rua wanted to build a hotel in Waimana. He asked for a liquor license and politician Sir Joseph Ward is said to have promised him one. That didn't happen. When he didn't get any acknowledgement from Wellington, then he started, he was really testing the law. That's what it was. Of course it bounced back on him in the end. The law had to be upheld. the throes of World War I, the state was increasingly intolerant of dissent. Another invasion of the Uruwera was ordered, this time by armed police. It led to what some historians have called the last shooting of the New Zealand Wars. The expedition was conducted like a military operation invading alien territory. Some of the police themselves believe that their commander, the ruthless Commissioner John Cullen, was determined to have a shootout. And when they got down to the bottom here, Cullen ordered to stop and load all the firearms. So that means they were really ready for, to do, to do something, eh? And when they got around here... It was said, it was said that one of the cops fired the first shot. He was on a black horse by, what's his name again? A skinner, skinner, a red-headed skinner. And of course that's when things started, started happening. His and his three sons all dressed up ready for the occasion. And it was said that he ran away and they chased him. That was the beginning of the scuffle when they scuffled down here and fell into that gully there. with one of the cops. Well, that was the beginning of the whole affair. And his son, Natapa, that first shot was fired, all he thought was to go up to his house and pick his gun up and retaliate. And from then on, they're all out shooting. You know, what happened there, they wanted to shoot at everybody, moving, people scattering away, running away into the bush. Two Maori were killed and at least two wounded in the fierce gunfight. Four policemen were wounded. The Uruwera was jailed after a trial so suspect it raised an outcry from Pakeha as well as his own people. I really felt that they didn't give him a fair go at all. I didn't. There's a man there, he proved himself, what he can do for his people. To come here in the heart of the Uruwera to create a 2,000 eggs... grassland and ran stocking with their their own their own efforts without any government help and in the end because of these little minor uh false of his with the law it broke the whole the whole system yeah Rua was released in 1918. He struggled to maintain his movement until he died in 1937. The last victim of the New Zealand wars. For many years, New Zealanders had a sense that their country had no history. Real history, we were told, happened overseas. For some reason, we failed to confront our own past. As a young university student in the 1970s, I shared this historical amnesia. I did seven history courses in my BA degree, not one of them in the history of my own country. I then got a holiday job on a television series called The Governor, helping dig the trenches of a reconstructed Rua Pekapeka. I remember thinking on my first day on the job, what the hell is going on here? This doesn't look like a Maori pā, this is more like a chunk of the Western Front. It was this little accident which opened my eyes to the history right in front of me. War is never worth celebrating for itself. But the New Zealand wars showed me, as I hope they've shown you, that we don't have to look overseas for our dynamic history, for our Robin Hoods, our Genghis Khans, our Jones of Arc and our Gandhis. Their stories are here, in our streets, in our parks, and in the living pulse of our land. Kua tata to muaha ki te whakamana I te whiu o te korero me hoki koe ki tau Putake take ake Nā fatu o maru, konāti maru Konāti huri tamakaimoana Nā uri o kōtiki hakahaka Nā uri o Chiki chika chika Na uri o Na hinapu kauri

He shook the hands of his killers even as he was being hoisted to his death. Kirioka Tahao, a Paimari there missionary, is said to have eaten Volkner's eyes, describing one as Parliament and the other as the Queen in English law. This incident triggered the East Coast Wars. the altar of his own church.

The wars his death sparked raged for more than seven years from 1865 to 1872, bringing fire and sword to a vast chunk of the North Island. This seven years war was really a complicated tangle of intersecting conflicts, a bloody kaleidoscope. Some were civil wars within Maori tribes, as well as struggles between Maori and Pākehā.

Whatever their politics, the East Coast wars killed more unarmed people than the rest of the New Zealand wars combined. The government forces in the East Coast Wars were a combined army. Pakeha in alliance with Kupapa Maori. Ngati Porou was a leading Kupapa tribe whose great chief, Ropata Wahawaha, became a dominant figure in the East Coast Wars.

His fearsome reputation was entirely justified. Although they became the right arm of the colonial government, Ngati Porou had once been supporters of the King Movement. So when Paimaridem missionaries brought their message of tribal unity to the coast, some Ngati Porou listened. As a result, the Paimaridem message, urging peace and unity, split the tribe and sparked civil war. Ropata and his fellow Kupapa had to fight for ascendancy within their own tribe.

During 1865, Ngāti Porou fought a fierce and bitter civil war. The Paimarerai faction held the ascendancy at first, winning a victory at Tikitiki. on the 20th of June but subsequently government guns gave Ropata the whip hand.

He won the internal war and forced his Paimare Reginald to swear allegiance to Queen Victoria. Thereafter the newly united Ngati Porou took their lethal... message to other tribes, becoming a Kupapa elite on the east coast.

It's important to remember that they were expanding their own influence as well as that of the government. Kupapa had their own reasons for fighting with Pakeha against their fellow Maori. It was partly that they did not see other Maori as being their own people. Each tribe was a people unto itself. Kupapa resisted notions of pan-tribalism which were at the core of the Pai Maori.

their movement. The word kupapa means passive or lying low. Their actions in war were far from that. During 1865 and 1866, with Ropata and his Ngati Porou prominence, government forces attacked Paimare supporters in several parts of the East Coast.

Their lands were devastated and, in some cases, confiscated. By 1867, the East Coast lay largely quiescent. The bare feet of Kupapa warriors feared no less than the Pakeha jackboot.

These conflicts resulted in the capture of hundreds of Paimare de prisoners who the government thought were too dangerous to jail on the mainland. The Chatham Islands were chosen as a safe and distant penal colony. The Chathams lie 860 kilometers east of Christchurch, so distant. But some do not regard them as part of New Zealand at all.

In this barren but majestic landscape, there are still reminders of the first inhabitants, the Moriori, a Polynesian people of the Chatham Islands, shrouded in myth and mystery. One myth is that they'd died out, but like their ancient drawings, they survive. At the main Chatham settlement of Waitangi, The East Coast exiles were made to build their own prison, as well as barracks and a redoubt for their guards.

The prisoners'quarters were communal huts built of ponga. This is the only one which remains. Somewhere in this rare photograph of East Coast prisoners is probably a man named Takuti Arikirangi.

verifiable individual photographs of him exist, he never stayed still long enough. As a young man in Poverty Bay, The Kooti had defied both Pākehā and Maori authority. A successful trader and sailor who spoke English and understood Pākehā ways, The Kooti had been jailed without trial. He was to become the most wanted man in New Zealand history.

Thakoti and his fellow exiles found life on the Chathams hard and cold. Some were joined by their wives and children and there was some friendship between prisoners and guards. But abuse and beatings were common and the guards spent most of their time drunk.

The prisoners had been told that their exile was temporary and were promised a fair trial. When nothing happened, they began to lose hope. They feared they would never see their homes again. It was The Kooti who restored their hope. While sick with tuberculosis, he saw a vision of the Archangel Michael and experienced a religious awakening.

He began preaching a new religion called Ringatu, the upraised hand. That's the origin of this belief. They say, but they need to be Maori. If they are Maori, this belief will remain true Maori. He's said to have stood on this beach and prophesied that if a ship did not arrive soon, the waves would biblically part, enabling him and his people to walk home to New Zealand.

Perhaps fortunately for him, a real arc of deliverance did arrive on the 3rd of July 1868. the form of the government schooner rifleman. The rifleman had arrived from Wellington with a cargo of stores and was to take back a shipment of wool from the Chathams. The day after its arrival, the prisoners were unloading the ship when just before 2.30pm the most remarkable jailbreak in New Zealand history began.

The guards were suddenly seized and bound. Waitangi was patrolled to prevent the news spreading, all guns were collected up, and the rifleman was captured by Prismas posing as a working party. Even in the frenzy of intense but carefully planned activity, only one guard was killed, against Takuti's orders. The veteran warrior Pita Kotuku was among The Kooti's 300 followers on the captured ship. When The Kooti was ready, we went on board.

We took a supply of water and cans. The riflemen had plenty of stores in the hold. I witnessed the throwing overboard of one of our people, an elderly man called The Ward. The Wārihi had done nothing but croak, predicting an evil end to all of us, and had frightened some of the more timid men, so that they were almost ready to turn around. The Wārihi did not make any outcry, nor did he struggle.

He went down like a stone. I was in great fear. The sailors on board the schooner were treacherous and were steering for Wellington instead of Poverty Bay. I understand the compass.

I told them to go the right course or they would be thrown overboard. Many of the Maori had been laying beds in Pākehā fashion as to when land would be sited. The mountains of the North Island were seen just after the sun rose, and there was loud rejoicing among the people.

The Kooti landed at Whare Ongonga, south of Poverty Bay, with 162 men, 64 women and 71 children. He released the... Rifleman and its crew unharmed, giving each sailor a present of cash.

The whole escape had been carried out with little violence and great efficiency, impressing even government official G.S. Cooper. It's difficult to say whether one is excited more with the precision, rapidity and completeness, or by the moderation shown in the hour of victory by a gang of barbarous fanatics. My name is Pita Moeau. I am a descendant of The Kooti, from Rongowhakaata, Ngati Ruapane.

I am. To my mind, The Kooti would have seen landing here at Whare Ongonga as the beginning of a new journey. The escape from Whare Kaori, the escape from the deprivation, the hardships there. And also an opportunity to start on a journey where he could reclaim that which had been taken from him.

Before leaving Whare O Ngaunga, The Kooti had tried to persuade the government to leave him alone, promising peace in return for freedom. But the government would have none of this, and ordered colonial and Kupapa troops to chase and capture the escaped prisoners. These forces were led by Colonel George Whitmore, the most formidable and tenacious of the Pakeha military leaders. In July 1868, three strong columns set out in pursuit of The Kooti and his followers. Despite being heavily outnumbered, The Kooti managed to defeat his pursuers in two encounters.

A third took place on the 8th of August, when The Kooti took up a strong position in a gorge in the Rua Keepaturi Valley and waited. Whitmore's scouts spotted some of Tukurti's party and the government forces moved into the attack. But as the troops struggled in single file up the boulder filled gorge, Tukurti's warriors fired on them from hidden positions.

The colonial troops, supported by Kupapa warriors, put up a courageous fight, but try as they might, they could not take Tukurti's position. The Kooti then led his people to safety in an isolated spot on the fringes of the Uruwera mountains. Here he planned his next move.

He knew that the hunt was on and that his sanctuary could only be temporary. He had had enough of being the hunted. In November 1868, The Kooti and his warriors descended upon the Maori and Pākehā settlements of Poverty Bay.

Turanga, now known as Gisborne, was the port for Poverty Bay. In 1868, it was a small settlement with just a few hotels and stores. Its main out-settlement was Matawhiro. As the settled country on Poverty Bay flat was approached, The Kooti's attacking force was divided into several raiding parties. I was in a party of about 50 men and armed with a rifle and bayonet.

The Kooti allocated each party its special task, all designed to paralyze the defenders. As the night of 9-10 November unfolded, Poverty Bay's doom crept up on it. This church is the only surviving Matawhiru building of the 1860s.

It served the European settlers of the district, who were mostly part-time members of the colonial forces. They were commanded by Maori Reginald Biggs and Captain James Wilson. There had been reports that an attack by Thecote was imminent, but false alarms had made the commanders wary of overreaction.

Biggs and Wilson believed that their scouts patrolled every possible route by which Thecote might attack. As he watched the smoke rise from their burning houses on the morning of 10 November, Postmaster John Gleddy realized that they had been wrong. The Hohaus are on us. I expect before this reaches you, the whole place will be destroyed.

I can see the smoke of burning houses as I write this. We next attacked the house of Maori Biggs. Volleys were fired into the house after the door was broken.

Biggs and his family were shot. I witnessed the slaying. The next house attacked.

was Captain Roosevelt. Captain Wilson had just gone to bed when Amari knocked on the door. He saw the outline of a number of heads and suspected that mischief was intended.

The natives began to fire into the house. Captain Wilson returned the fire at the natives, who then proceeded to fire the house. The flames and smoke soon drove the inmates out.

Meres. Wilson's hair and the feet of the little ones were scorched. Captain Wilson had his revolver, but the natives suddenly stabbed him through the body with a bayonet.

Meres. Wilson turned round. And as she uttered a cry of horror, she received a thrust with a bayonet, her arm being pierced, trying to shield Jessie.

When she regained consciousness, it was daylight, and she saw her husband and the children, with the exception of Jimmy, lying dead around her. The wondered what they'd done to Jimmy. Jimmy managed to find help, and a rescue party brought in Ellis Wilson.

It was hoped in time she'd recover, but she succumbed to the wounds which had been inflicted upon her. Maori victims too. A survivor, Maria Mere, left this eyewitness account. He said, God's told me to kill women and children. Later to court he said to me, don't you have another husband except me?

No, I replied, is that the reason you killed my husband? I will never marry you. He replied, Maria, if you talk like that, I will cut your head off.

The Pakeha victims of the raid were killed on the 9th and 10th of November. The Maori victims met their fate in the succeeding days, while The Kooti controlled Poverty Bay. The local Maori were his own people, and he offered some the chance to join him. One who did was He Kume Kume, who became The Kooti's favourite among at least eight wives. About 50 people, Maori and Pākehā, were killed in Takoti's raid.

Pākehā reactions ranged from terror to rage and often confused the two. The wildest imagination could hardly have conceived of a more terrible calamity than all the annals of the struggles of civilisation against man in his natural savage state. Nothing more appalling has ever been recorded. As vengeful colonial and Kupapa forces massed against him, The Kooti withdrew from Poverty Bay, laden with loot and prisoners.

He fortified his followers at the mountain stronghold of Natapa. The government eventually massed over 700 men. Most were Maori, including 370 Ngāti Porou kupapa and a unit of Aroa armed constabulary.

There were also almost 300 crack Pākehā troops hardened in the war against Titokowaru in Taranaki. The commanders too were formidable, George Whitmore and Ropata Wahawaha. On New Year's Eve, 1868, the combined army laid siege to the great mountain pa of Ngāti Porou.

Natapa lies 60 kilometres west of Poverty Bay. It was an ancient tribal stronghold, the summit of which reminded observers of a giant tadpole. Natapa was impregnable to assault, and Whitmore and Ropata found that just getting there was arduous. The tracks were so bad that packhorses fell over, and everything had to be brought in on men's backs. It was even tougher for the soldiers in the siege lines.

Clinging to the steep slopes of the mountain in hastily scratched out trenches, they suffered daily casualties from Maori sniping. Night and day, the government's soldiers inched forward their trenches. The Russians were worst of all here inside Natapa itself, where everything was running short. The desperate garrison was casting bullets in thimbles using pewter spoons looted at Poverty Bay.

But the government's siege lines continued to move closer and to link up. As night fell on the 4th of January, Whitmore and Ropata were absolutely certain that their noose was now tight around Takoti's neck. On the 6th of January, to their astonishment, they found that the garrison had gone. The government Maoris cut us off from the spring, which was our water supply. The stronghold fell because...

because of lack of food and water. Our position became desperate and it was decided to escape under the cover of night. We let ourselves down the cliff in rear of the pa by means of forest vines.

The lowest part of the cliff where I went down was about 60 feet high. I escaped the bush pursuit made by the Ngati Porou, but many of our people were captured and shot. When it was realized that The Kooti had escaped, the Kooti...

were unleashed in pursuit. For two days they chased the fugitives through the bush. Eventually more than half were captured and brought back to Ngātapa. The women and children were mostly unharmed, but 120 of the captured men were taken to the summit of Ngātapa. They were lined up and asked a few questions.

Then they were shot. Maori Kupapa did the killing, but it was authorised by government officers. Ironically, the dead bodies which tumbled from the summit of Natapa probably also included Takuti's prisoners.

The double tragedy is that Poverty Bay was avenged partly on its victims. Takuti's escape from Natapa seemed miraculous, but it was still a heavy defeat. He had allowed himself to be besieged in a power without a decent escape route.

Natapa was a traditional rather than a modern Pa. Takoti had proved himself a world master of guerrilla warfare, but not of the modern Pa system. Yet he still inspired fierce loyalty among his dwindling number of followers.

Sitting up on top of this maunga, one can't help but think about the courage and loyalty and fortitude of the people that supported the koati because of the terrain that they had to cover to get up here. And from here we can look back and see Turanganui, off in the distance and across this way to Whare Ongo Onga, and then behind us through to the The country. And knowing that they were ill-equipped, ill-prepared, One can't help think of the loyalty that they showed to this man. By now reduced to around 100 supporters, Takoti based himself in the Uruwera Mountains. Seeking ammunition, supplies and supporters, Takuoti launched raids on Whakatane and Mohaka.

More unarmed people were killed, others joined Takuoti. After each raid, he returned to his Uraweta sanctuary. A frustrated Colonel Whitman...

decided that the only way to stop The Kooti and his raids was to invade his mountain refuge. In May 1869, combined forces of 1300 colonial and kupapa troops entered the inviolate Uruwera. Now the The people paid a high price for their support of the most wanted man in the country.

Villages and cultivations were destroyed as Whitmore's forces crossed and recrossed the Huruweta, pouring automatic carbon fire into every potential ambush site. Many of the troops came down with dysentery, including the tough little Whitmore who was purging and vomiting the whole day and had to be carried in the fire. the litter. But the terrain was too rugged and the conditions too difficult and eventually the invaders withdrew, cheated of their elusive prey by The and their mountains.

Although he had escaped, The Kooti realised that Whitmore's invasion meant his Uruwera refuge was no longer secure. In the hope of obtaining fresh support, he decided to risk a 300km journey inland to Lake Taupo in the heart of the North Island. On the way... His scouts, under the deadly warrior Theragi Tahao, discovered a cavalry patrol at Opepe, northeast of the lake. Takoti's men boldly entered the cavalry's camp, posing as kupapa, and killed nine of the fourteen careless troopers.

So in June 1869, Taupo learned that The Kooti had arrived. From Taupo, The Kooti and his followers journeyed another 150 kilometers northwest to Tokangamutu, the capital of the King movement. Whether The Kooti was seeking an alliance or hoping to overthrow King Tahao as the head of Maori resistance is unclear.

Certainly, his mana clashed with that of Ta-Fiao and other Qingite leaders in several non-violent but tense encounters. The government trembled at the prospect of union between their great enemies. But it did not happen.

In August, Takoti returned to Taupo to carry on the fight by himself. Two months later, government forces attacked him at his new pa of The Porere. The colonial forces now included troops freed up by the collapse of Titokowaru's resistance in Taranaki. Their commander was Colonel Thomas McDonnell.

The formidable Maori Keepaepa The Rangi Hiwenui of Whanganui really called the shots. Who's got that bulldozer? We described the battle in a letter to the king.

On the third day, we attacked at three o'clock in the afternoon. The enemy fired a volley at us. When close up, we fired a volley.

The enemy retreated. Then the power was rushed. Tiwiki jumped up and shot a ho-ho dead.

In about a minute, 30 of the enemy fell. They were lying as thick as a heap of sharks. Three of the Maoris were killed and one year later, European makes for.

Other Kupapa were wounded, including Kenana Takawepo, a Kahununi chief. A woman whose husband had been killed leapt on him like an enraged tigress and gouged out his right eye. Porere Kotaku was there. At Porere, we built a strong redoubt, but it had one defect that resulted in our defeat.

We could not see our attackers unless we exposed ourselves over the top of the pyramids. It was I who shot Captain St. George as he was leaving. leading his men in the charge up to the front of the pah. Not The Kooti, as some have said.

Defeated at The Porere and unable to get King support, The Kooti realised his long-term chances of military success were slim. The Porere cost him fewer casualties than Natapa, but it was his last major stand in a prepared position, in his last attempt at anything other than raid, ambush and escape. He withdrew. west into the king country, sovereign territory which pursuing government forces dared not enter. Takuti was safe from government forces in the king country, which was under the mana of King Tafia.

But Tafia would not permit Takuti to stay for long. Takuti was prepared to fight on if he must, but he was also prepared to start peace negotiations. In January 1870, he asked to meet the Auckland land baron, Joseph Firth.

To the annoyance of the government, Firth agreed, and the two men met at Matamata in January 1870. Thecote stood before me. He's about 35 years of age, stoutly built, broad-shouldered and strong-limbed. A rather large development of jaw and chin conveys the idea of a man of strong and resolute will. He has no tattoo, wears a black moustache and a short black beard.

I noticed he'd lost the middle finger of the left hand. Firth urged that Thecote surrender, but his desire for peace did not extend that far. If they let me alone, I will live quietly. If not, I will fight.

The Kooti also tried to make peace with his Maori enemies, among them Kupapa of The Arawa. From 1864 to the end of the wars, most The Arawa consistently supported the government. There were advantages. Government food and money ensured that the Kupapa, like the government troops, could be full-time warriors.

This gave Kupapa the upper hand when fighting resisting Maori, who still had to feed themselves and their families. The alliance also made it easier to deal with tribal enemies. At a hui at Makatu in 1864, a young British officer heard how some of the Ottawa chiefs planned to settle old scores.

The chiefs assembled in a marquee from the centre of which rose a lofty flagstaff bearing a British ensign. The queen was toasted in brandy, rum and cider with the words, The is the fountain of all good. May she send us plenty of powder, plenty of rum and may both...

Be strong! End the jail! The first resolution proposed was that the lands of all who have carried arms against the Queen ought to be forfeited to the Crown. This was agreed to with all the decision and liberality which usually characterizes the actions of men who are dealing with the property of their foes. Alliance with the Pākehā and the relationship with the Queen was important to The Arawa.

But they did not see themselves as fighting for the government. From their point of view, the government was fighting for them. Nominally, kupapa were led by European officers, but these were usually ignored by the warriors they commanded.

An exception was Lieutenant Gilbert Mai, who had real influence over the younger Arawah warriors. His Aroa Flying Column became one of the most formidable units of the New Zealand wars. Tough light infantry combining the best and most merciless of both Maori and Pākehā warfare.

From them, no bush refuge was safe. The Kooti's peace overtures resulted in an invitation by the elders of The Arawa to a conference on the banks of Lake Rotorua. Mere and the younger Arawah warriors were thought to be far away, sniffing Takoti's cold trail.

But as the meeting began, Mere and more than 200 of his men suddenly appeared. Believing that Takoti intended treachery, Mere threw down the white flag being carried by the Ottawa elders. He and his men then engaged Takoti in a fierce running gun battle. The flying column were crack troops and well-armed.

Mere alone fired 58 bullets from his ultra-modern carbon during the pursuit. The chase began only a few hundred metres from Takoti and his people, who included many women and children. Their survival depended on a small rearguard of 30 men. 20 of these were killed off one by one during the desperate retreat. Their sacrifice enabled the main body to escape to the old sanctuary of the Uraweta Mountains.

New and his men returned to their base camp at Kaitariria. They were deeply disappointed. 20 corpses were a poor second prize to the annihilation of Takuti.

But what they did get was a photographic record of the day. I'm marching back, weary and scratched and torn, to my military post at Kaideri Ria, on the shore of Rotokakahi. I found that a photographer from Dunedin, a Mere Mundy, had arrived.

Mere Mundy was so impressed with the picturesque appearance of my force that he begged me to halt the column. A hundred men, while he snapped them. On the right you can see a portion of The Kooti's famous flag, The Awepo. The always displayed when he had a blood fit on him. Between 1870 and 1872, most of New Zealand began to prosper through the borrowing schemes of Julius Fogel.

Railway lines and telegraph lines sprang up and the whole country began to modernise. But merciless armies still rampaged through the Uruwera Mountains, hunting Takuti and his people. The armies were now wholly Maori, led by men like Ropata of Ngati Porou, The Pakeha of The Arawa, and Keepa.

of Whanganui. Once again, The villages and cultivations went up in smoke, and people were killed neutral or not. On some occasions, The pointed government forces the wrong way and secretly gave food and information to The Kooti.

But in 1871, government pressure forced The to hand over another fugitive from Pākehā justice. Keepareopa, one of the men said to have killed the Reverend Carl Volkner and eaten his eyes out of Portaki at the start of the East Coast Wars. He was hanged at Napier in 1872, still maintaining his innocence.

Peace. None are condemned. Greetings to you.

This finishes my lamentations to you, my tribe, to the land of... But... The Kooti's mountain camps were repeatedly found and attacked.

Each time he escaped, but his following was gradually worn down. Finally, in May 1872, with only half a dozen supporters, he left the war-torn Uruwera and took permanent refuge in the king country. Earlier, he had left behind this letter of defiance.

To all government men, sirs, this is a word... Minister to you. You must give up chasing me about because I am in my own place, the bush.

This murderous purpose of yours in pursuing me is like a rat rooting dung. You must give it up, so beware. I sent you some of my young men to carry my letter warning you, and you attacked them.

Cease then to complain about your own killed. There were young men who loved their country, that is all. If you dislike these words, what does it matter?

All the worse for you. ...Takoti and accepted Tahao's policy of combining independence with peace unless attacked. This meeting house was erected to seal the partnership between Takoti and his king movement guardians.

In 1883, the government tried to open up the king country by peaceful means, and as part of the deal, Takoti was given a pardon. But it carried conditions which kept Takoti in a kind of captivity. I think one of the most important things to realize was that firstly he wasn't allowed to return home.

So there was a lot of pain and grief around that issue for him. Secondly, after having been pursued for so long, he had moved to a place within his belief where he put more of his time and energy into building the church. Thirdly, he was given a piece of land. in conjunction with the pardon that was given to him, but that land had already been confiscated from another iwi. So I think there would have been some sadness and perhaps some thought about putting as much effort as possible into creating something that would remain, which would become ultimately the church.

They are hitting the tune. The Kooti's pardon was not well received by Parehaka New Zealand. He had long been portrayed as the most savage of war criminals and caricatured as an unreliable drunk. Few believed he would remain peaceful.

But when Government Minister John Bryce delivered the amnesty, The Kooti was unequivocal. He said to the Minister of Native Affairs, Your peace is only where your lips are. Minister is forever. Forever.

I will not harm another person again. And that's when he quoted the words Ko atutaki te mahi tahurāku te pono Ko akihi ki a rāua te tika me te rongo mau He tipu ake te pono i te whenua He titira ho te tika i te rangi He hoanore, he kōloria, he maunga a rongo ki te whenua He whakaaro pai ki ngā tānta katoa And from that day to this day That peace, that treaty still exists today. Tukurti died in 1893. His Ringatu church lives on.

The Kooti left one other legacy, a solution to an historian's debate about what we actually call these wars. They've gone under many names. Two popular favourites are the Maori Wars and the Land Wars.

I myself prefer the New Zealand Wars, as did an earlier historian, James Cowan, in the 1920s. I think the case for the New Zealand Wars is strong, and here at the Wainui Marae, or Kiwa, I found that the precedents were strong too. Here, on a monument to The Kooti erected by his own Ringatu Church in 1908, we find the words, Ngā pākanga nunui o Aotearoa, The Great New Zealand Wars. Though Maori came much closer to victory than legend allows, the Pākehā won the New Zealand Wars.

But it was not a knockout, it was a narrow victory on points. Kupapa shared in the victory to some extent, obtaining rewards such as the four Maori seats in Parliament, but they soon found that the government's friendship was almost as dangerous as its enmity. In military terms, the remarkable thing about the New Zealand wars was not the eventual Maori defeat, but the degree of their success along the way.

Intelligent Maori military thinking and their invention of the modern past system as a means of neutralising British advantages meant that the Pākehā victory did not come through superior war technology or superior brain power. In the final analysis, the Pākehā won because of their overwhelming numbers. 19th century atlases which colour the whole of New Zealand imperial British pink.

We are looking at a myth on a map. The end of the wars marked the turn of the tide against Maori independence. But the strength of Maori resistance meant that tide ran out very slowly.

For no less than 50 years after the main body of the wars, independent Maori districts survived, where Pakeha law was irrelevant and trespassers were executed. The King movement killed Pakeha, who transgressed its laws as late as 1880. The King Country was the largest and best known of these houses of resistance. Another house of resistance was at Pakeha in central Taranaki, where a remarkable pan-tribal movement developed from the 1860s, led by The Whitman Orongo Mai and Tohu Kakahi.

Pakeha was a substantial township, its population swelled by supporters from other regions. It accepted Pākehā economics and technology and was said to have had electric lighting before Wellington, but it did not. not accept the Pakeha state.

Pakeha's resistance was far from being passive as it is sometimes described, but it was non-violent. Yet the state was not certain of this and Pakeha remained independent. From 1877 the government tried to prize open Pakeha. It surveyed land in preparation for sale and settlement. The profits responded with non-violent but well-organized resistance, notably the mass plowing up of survey lines.

This resistance was temporarily effective. But in 1881 the government pulled out its biggest stick in the form of 2,500 troops, 1,600 of whom marched on peaceful Pakeha in November. The prophets were imprisoned, the town was dismantled, and that was the end of Pakeha as an independent Maori state.

It was not the end of Pakeha as a focus of Maori identity. A third house of resistance was in Northland. Here, Maori independence was protected by the tradition of Tāmati Wakanene as well as that of Honeheke and Kāwiti. In 1864, 20 years after Gray's so-called decisive victory, victory at Ruapekapeka, Frederick Manning wrote, Here in the north there is no more hope of establishing the supremacy of the law than there is of flying in the air.

In 1898, conflict with the government came very close in an incident known as the Dog Tax War. The prophet Honetoya, based at Waimā in Honeheka country, rejected government authority. If dogs were to be taxed, men would be next, he said. The government sent in 120 troops, two cannon and two machine guns, supported by a gunboat and 60 naval volunteers. Honetoya and 70 men lay in ambush.

According to one Pākehā observer, they would have slaughtered our men without being seen. But Honaheke, great nephew of the 1840s Resistor and a Maori member of Parliament, was able to mediate and prevent bloodshed. Honetoya and his chief supporters were imprisoned.

It was to be 1916, 73 years after the New Zealand wars began at Wairau, before the final house of Maori resistance fell. As the Great War raged in Europe, another war ended in the mists of the Uruwera Mountains. In the 1900s, a new prophet emerged among the The of the Uruwera.

Rua Keepanana, a successor to The Kooti in the leadership of the Ringatū Church. When he came here, our ancestors would go to the court in Whareowango. He would come to Ngai Tūhua.

That tradition and belief was passed on through Ngai Tūhua, and it was passed on through the Mataatua region. this magnificent assembly house, the last structure one would expect to find in the middle of the Uruweta Mountains. Rua's policies were peaceful and progressive.

He strove to modernise trade and agriculture and experimented with banking and mining. But his policies were also independent, rejecting Pakeha law and taxes. At one point, Rua wanted to build a hotel in Waimana.

He asked for a liquor license and politician Sir Joseph Ward is said to have promised him one. That didn't happen. When he didn't get any acknowledgement from Wellington, then he started, he was really testing the law.

That's what it was. Of course it bounced back on him in the end. The law had to be upheld.

the throes of World War I, the state was increasingly intolerant of dissent. Another invasion of the Uruwera was ordered, this time by armed police. It led to what some historians have called the last shooting of the New Zealand Wars.

The expedition was conducted like a military operation invading alien territory. Some of the police themselves believe that their commander, the ruthless Commissioner John Cullen, was determined to have a shootout. And when they got down to the bottom here, Cullen ordered to stop and load all the firearms. So that means they were really ready for, to do, to do something, eh?

And when they got around here... It was said, it was said that one of the cops fired the first shot. He was on a black horse by, what's his name again? A skinner, skinner, a red-headed skinner. And of course that's when things started, started happening.

His and his three sons all dressed up ready for the occasion. And it was said that he ran away and they chased him. That was the beginning of the scuffle when they scuffled down here and fell into that gully there. with one of the cops.

Well, that was the beginning of the whole affair. And his son, Natapa, that first shot was fired, all he thought was to go up to his house and pick his gun up and retaliate. And from then on, they're all out shooting.

You know, what happened there, they wanted to shoot at everybody, moving, people scattering away, running away into the bush. Two Maori were killed and at least two wounded in the fierce gunfight. Four policemen were wounded. The Uruwera was jailed after a trial so suspect it raised an outcry from Pakeha as well as his own people. I really felt that they didn't give him a fair go at all.

I didn't. There's a man there, he proved himself, what he can do for his people. To come here in the heart of the Uruwera to create a 2,000 eggs... grassland and ran stocking with their their own their own efforts without any government help and in the end because of these little minor uh false of his with the law it broke the whole the whole system yeah Rua was released in 1918. He struggled to maintain his movement until he died in 1937. The last victim of the New Zealand wars. For many years, New Zealanders had a sense that their country had no history.

Real history, we were told, happened overseas. For some reason, we failed to confront our own past. As a young university student in the 1970s, I shared this historical amnesia. I did seven history courses in my BA degree, not one of them in the history of my own country.

I then got a holiday job on a television series called The Governor, helping dig the trenches of a reconstructed Rua Pekapeka. I remember thinking on my first day on the job, what the hell is going on here? This doesn't look like a Maori pā, this is more like a chunk of the Western Front. It was this little accident which opened my eyes to the history right in front of me. War is never worth celebrating for itself.

But the New Zealand wars showed me, as I hope they've shown you, that we don't have to look overseas for our dynamic history, for our Robin Hoods, our Genghis Khans, our Jones of Arc and our Gandhis. Their stories are here, in our streets, in our parks, and in the living pulse of our land. Kua tata to muaha ki te whakamana I te whiu o te korero me hoki koe ki tau Putake take ake Nā fatu o maru, konāti maru Konāti huri tamakaimoana Nā uri o kōtiki hakahaka Nā uri o Chiki chika chika Na uri o Na hinapu kauri

Transcript for:The East Coast Wars and the Legacy of Te Kooti

Transcript for:
The East Coast Wars and the Legacy of Te Kooti