Sidestep: The Last Maori vs Maori Armed Conflict

Maori have been fighting each other since 1350. Many battles, some very famous, are recorded. All were with clubs and spears. Ngati Hotu suffered are particularly brutal defeat at the hands of Ngāti Tūwharetoa in the 16th century. Some battles were no more than skirmishes with a handful of dead. Others, where superior numbers occurred, were savage affairs where whole villages of a hundred were decimated. But the arrival of the musket brought the old hates to the surface. The musket could kill at a distance, whereas true warfare was hand to hand and held much mana.

The Musket Wars were a series of wars of as many as 3,000 battles and raids fought throughout New Zealand by Maori against Māori between 1807 and 1839. They began after one Māori tribe called Ngapuhi, obtained muskets and then one particular chief of that tribe engaged in an intertribal arms race in order to gain territory or seek revenge for past defeats. After this, it is taught that the only other armed conflicts were what were previously referred to as the as the Land Wars or the Māori Wars, but are now regarded solely as The Zealand Wars. These were eight 'NZ wars' with relatively low casualties compared to the Maori Musket Wars. The separate battles only numbered about 30 armed conflicts that took place in New Zealand from 1845 to 1872 between the Colonial government and allied Māori on one side and Māori and Māori-allied settlers on the other. (Note that not all Maori were divided against the Crown and some fought with the government against other Maori). Though the wars were initially localised conflicts triggered by tensions over disputed land purchases, they escalated dramatically from 1860 as the government became convinced it was facing united Māori resistance to further land sales and a refusal to acknowledge Crown sovereignty. In fact these conflicts should now be correctly noted as The Sovereignty Wars. They were not about anything other than sovereignty, and the understanding or misunderstanding of what that meant. These ward held no mana for the victors where their victims had no equivalent weapon.

According to recorded and taught history, the last inter-Maori conflict ended 35 years before the end of the Sovereignty Wars. This is not true. Old wounds within Maoridom still exist and if we had no Army or Police force or the deep interbreeding that now exists, it is quite likely they would resume. Those deep seated conflicts are both cultural and spiritual. You see, few teach that the last fight between armed Maori alone was in 1864. Note the key word here was 'armed' for some were still fighting the crown, and that may be why Tama Iti (a one time communist), was arrested in 2007 in response to the discovery of an alleged paramilitary training camp in the Urewera mountain range near the town of Ruatoki.

The account of the fight of 1864 is as follows....

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In the autumn of 1864 occurred the fight over the Ohura Mill between Te Kere and Topine Te Mamaku This was probably the last purely Maori fight in New Zealand. There was some skirmishing in the middle of the 1870's seventies in the Waiapu district, but no natives were killed. Oddly, no one can tell us what the dispute over Ohura was originally about. But Maori being Maori, insults often lead to violence, so while the dispute could probably have been settled amicably (as the two men were blood relations), one of Te Kere's men; a man of low standing, insulted Topine by employing one of the most objectionable forms of insult known to the Maori. He said that he would burn the skin of Topine's head on a fire and then eat it.

The Ohura Mill at Marae-kowhai was nearly completed and the water race from the Te Reinga-kokiri Falls commenced, when the dispute occurred. Before this Te Kere held a share in the Kakawai Stream Mill at Kaiwhaiki, and the first intimation that he received of the hostile intentions of Topine was when he was returning from this place to his home at Rau-ponga (over the Ohura, north of Marae-kowhai), with several canoes laden with flour, and sixty of his people. With his party were two Europeans, Rapira and Airia, who were connected with the Roman Catholic Mission (probably Rapira was Father Lampila, the other name is unknown to the writer). When the canoes reached Kahui-tara, the rapid below the mouth of the Ohura, a volley was fired by Topine's men, and one of the young polers, a lad named Takerei, was killed. There were at that time about 100 in Topine's party on the high bank above the river, and they had among them 30 guns, some pu kahia and some meene or mini. (Probably these names were Puanaki's terms for flint-lock and percussion cap rifles.) Some of the bullets fired at that time are still to be found embedded in the papa or soft rock opposite Kahui-tara.

This volley came as a great surprise to Te Kere, who immediately ordered his men not to waste time by returning the fire, but to make all haste in reaching shelter. While continuing their poling up the rapid Takerei died, and his blood, running along the bottom of the canoe, came into contact with some of the flour, making it tapu and so unfit for use. Te Kere landed at Rau-ponga, buried the murdered man without ceremony, threw up some earthworks at Otuhaumi, the terrace above Rau-ponga, and then ordered his men to commence firing, directing their fire at Papauma and Otama-kaihau, both fortified positions across the Ohura. As soon as Topine received reinforcements, he occupied Wharariki on the left bank of the Whanganui, and thus hemmed in Te Kere with his handful of men. Then Te Kere called on his atua (god), and a dense fog came down during the night, entirely screening the canoes while they quietly floated down stream. In the morning when Topine's warriors looked out, the canoes were gone and Rau-ponga was deserted. As Te Kere passed Kirikiri-roa he saw Topine's atua, and therefore hastened his own people down to Tahere-aka, as he understood by this sign that Topine was following. He then called upon the god Maru, and the two atua met and fought in the air, the result being that the first-mentioned god fled. (Concerning these atua, the only information available was that they were like flying stars—meteors.)

At Tahere-aka the women and children of the party were left, and on the same day Te Kere proceeded to pole up stream again. He landed his party at Ohau-iti, half-a-mile below Kirikiri-roa, where he left his canoes and then walked up through the bush and waited in hiding for darkness. Te Kere's chief fighting man was a man named- 225 Uenuku (said to have been 108 years old at the time of his death), and these two planned to make their attack just at daybreak. Te Kere's atua informed them that Topine had come down and was occupying some of the numerous huts at Kirikiri-roa. He also occupied One-poto and Te Kohiri-a-Koinake (opposite Kirikiri-roa, right bank) but all the people came over to Kirikiri-roa that night to talk together. The night was very dark, and Topine occupied a hut with a man named Kiri-pirau, his wife, Kaimaha, and their child, Takerau. This woman Kaimaha was regarded as a prophetess, for up to this time she had frequently foretold events. Toward morning Kiri-pirau was somewhat apprehensive of danger and said to his wife:—“Old lady, perhaps they will attack to-night?” She scarcely realized what was asked, and so replied:—“Kore, kore, kore, kore, kore” (no, no, no, no, no). Almost at the same moment of this assurance rang out the report of a shot. Later on it was found out that one of Te Kere's men named Tekoteko, wishing to warn Topine, fired off his gun, pretending that it was done accidentally.

Directly Te Kere found he was discovered he made his rush, and men, women, and children were entrapped in the houses and shot down without mercy. One woman only pleaded for her life, without avail, the rest met their fate bravely. At the first sign of trouble, Topine, being awake, rushed out of the hut and escaped over the river to One-poto; Kiri-pirau also escaped. The latter picked up his child and ran toward the track, but was intercepted and forced toward the cliff opposite Te Kokiri-a-Koinake. His only means of escape was by way of the cliff, so he steadied himself by placing his taiaha (a long two-handed weapon) named Ake-rautangi after the wood of which it was made, between his legs, put the child on his back and slid down the steep slope dragging the taiaha behind as a sort of rudder. Several shots were fired at him as he was swimming across the river, but in the semi-darkness he escaped. Many people were killed in this unfortunate affair, but the exact number is now unknown, as Te Kere left for Puke-tapu immediately, and Topine's people buried their own dead.

At Puke-tapu, Te Kere, knowing full well that he would be followed, set to work directly he landed to defend the place. He dug a large deep trench with overhanging top, right round the village, and transferred all his stores and material to this underground refuge. He also had all the good huts taken to pieces and the boards stored below. Topine came down and occupied Manga-papapa (papapa is the beetle (Periplaneta fortipes) with the unsufferable odour) immediately across the river from Puke-tapu. (Both places are now indicated by Lombardy poplars.) The siege lasted three months, and many of Topine's men were shot, but the only person lost on Te Kere's side was Tiopira; he was shot accidentally by one of his own people. One of the sentinels was a man named Tanerau, and one night when he was on duty above the trench he felt sleepy, so called up his brother-in-law Tiopira, to take his place. After- 227 Tanerau went below he fell asleep, but being suddenly awakened by a slight noise, and seeing a man standing above him, he immediately fired before he remembered that he himself had placed the man there. Tiopira fell back into the trench stone dead.

There was plenty of food in the besieged pa or fortified village, but the difficulty was to procure water from the river, owing to the proximity of the Manga-papapa rifles. So a hole was cut into the hard formation after the fashion of a European well, until a water-carrying stratum was struck, and then, as soon as enough of the precious fluid had collected, it was thrown into the air with much shouting, to show Topine that his siege was ineffective.

Now there was a chief among Te Kere's party known as Te Kaponga, whom Topine was most anxious to take, owing to some previous grievance. There was also a man on Topine's side, Pauraro-kino, who was quite on friendly terms with Te Kere and his people right through the fight, and he was allowed access to Puke-tapu at any time. These two men were both covered all over their faces with tattoo, and the pattern on both was much the same. They decided between them to try to settle the fight, so, with this end in view, Pauraro went over to Puke-tapu and exchanged clothes with Te Kaponga, he also gave him his taiaha (a staff-weapon) and then sent him over to Manga-papapa. When Topine's people saw Te Kaponga coming over in the evening they thought it was their own man, so called out in welcome to him. He passed through the people without detection and then, taking Pauraro's canoe, went down river.

Afterwards when Topine found his enemy had escaped and was living at Pari-nui, he sent some of his young women over to Puke-tapu with a present of mats, and so peace was made.

The dead, said to be nearly 300, (certainly grossly exaggerated) on Topine's side were buried at Mangapapapa. The two Europeans previously mentioned stopped at Puke-tapu all the time, repeating their prayers, and Te Kere afterwards employed the same ritual, believing that his success was partly owing to their atua or god.

You see... there is more than the academics, official school curriculums, modern accepted history and media articles will tell you about the past.