Sleeps Standing: A Story of the Battle of Orakau

by Ihimaera, Witi

  About mid-day on the third day the sap was quite close to our pa, and the troops lighted small shells [hand grenades], and threw them into our midst. Some burst, killing and wounding those near; others we picked up and threw back, bursting in the sap. The General decided to send a summons calling upon us to surrender. Major Mair was sent by the General to bring us this message. He came up to within a few yards of where we were, our men all aiming at him with their guns, and said, ‘Let the fighting cease, because you are surrounded. Your position is hopeless. If you persist in fighting you will all be killed, and your women and children will die with you.’ This word was sent round, and all the chiefs and people within the pa took counsel on the General’s message. The Urewera proposed that we should hoist a white flag, and when all the troops came up close to our fort and demanded our arms to pour a tremendous volley in and then charge through. We would not agree to such treachery, because this was not after the manner of chiefs. What we proposed was that the troops should go away with all their dead and wounded, and that we also would go away with ours.

  These negotiations lasted about half an hour before our ultimatum had been decided upon. Then the General again sent Major Mair, who said, ‘Let the women and children be sent out, we will protect them, so that they may not die.’ Then up rose my sister Ahumai, amongst the women, and said, ‘If our husbands and brothers are to die of what profit is it to us that we should live? Let us die with the men.’ Seeing that the women were all of one mind, then Hapurona, Rewi and my father said, ‘Ake, ake, ake, [We will fight on for ever].’ The people repeated these words with a great shout, and one of my people named Wereta fired at Major Mair, hitting him on the top of the right shoulder. Of course, this treacherous work broke off the negotiations, and firing commenced on both sides more furiously than ever, only we had no bullets. A big gun was then put in the sap, which broke down our pa and made a breach through which the troops tried to enter, but we drove them back, killing their leader, Captain Hereford.

  Our position became so desperate that we determined to try and break through; so we put our last bullets in our guns, and, forming up in a solid body with the women in our midst, we made one rush, breaking down the pa, and marched out, firing from both flanks at the besiegers, who closed in round our rear and tried to cut off our retreat. We burst out on the southward side and marched down the hill, breaking through and killing a lot of the soldiers who tried to stop us. As we were leaving the pa I saw one of our men crouching down, holding his guns as if to fire at the enemy. I found that he was quite dead, so I took the gun, feeling that if I had that I would be a match for any man who tried to stop me. I also bethought me of some blankets wherewith to keep myself warm at night, so I ran back and picked up a bundle. No stragglers were left behind, and the fight became desperate and hand to hand.

  I had a presentiment that I would escape, but when I looked back and considered the odds we had to fight against, and saw the Europeans marching after us in their majesty and might, then I said to my companions, ‘Oh, foolish people to dare to strive against the white man, the offspring of “Tiki” the heaven-born sons of giants.’ As we fled before them they tried, by outmarching on our flanks, to cut off our retreat, and poured a storm of bullets which seemed to encircle us like hail. It became a forlorn hope with us, none expected to escape, nor did we desire to; were we not all the children of one parent? therefore we wished to die together. My father and many of my people died in breaking away from the pa. When we cut through the troops further on my brother Hone Teri, who was with Rewi, died in endeavouring to shield him. The whole of my tribe were slain; my father, brothers, and uncle all died. My sister Ahumai, she who said the men and women would all die together, was wounded in four places. She was shot in the right side, the bullet going through her body and coming out on the left, she was shot right through the shoulder, the bullet coming out at her back; she was also shot through the waist; and her left thumb was shot away. Yet she is still alive, and resides at Taupo. We bore away many of our wounded.

  Not half of the defenders of the Orakau Pa escaped. I saw as we got away from the Puniu River a young man of the Ngatimaniapoto Tribe leading off two old men, one of whom was badly wounded. He was hard pressed by the troops, and kept kneeling and pointing his gun at the pursuers, but it was not loaded, and eventually he was shot; also one of the old men, the other escaped into the woods.

  None of the men in the pa showed any fear. All were equally brave, but the most intrepid in fight and sagacious in council were Hapurona, Raureti te Huia, Rewi’s brother, and my brother, Honi Teri te Paerata.

  It was from the small, flanking angle that Wereta fired at and nearly shot Major Mair.

  We afterwards heard that when the pa was carried Major Mair went in with the stormers to look after the wounded. He found some soldiers trying to kill a wounded woman named Hineiturama, belonging to Rotorua. They did not know, perhaps, that she was a woman, but they were enraged at the death of their officer, Captain Ring. Major Mair carried the woman to a corner of the pa, and ran off to save another woman called Ariana, who was also badly wounded, but when he returned Hineiturama had been killed. I mention this to show that some of the Europeans were kind to us. It is on this account that the Waikato and Taupo Natives have an affection for Major Mair.

  Before Orakau I took part in the fights at Rangiaohia and Paterangi. The fight in the bathing-place at Waiari was caused through the jealousy between the Ngatimaniapoto and Ngatiraukawa. The Ngatiraukawa had been successful in a fight some time previously, and this made the Ngatimaniapoto anxious to eclipse them; hence their attack on the bathing-party, where they lost thirty-five killed. The Maoris had collected large quantities of ammunition years previously, not with the intention of fighting against the Europeans, but to protect our own land in case we were attacked by other tribes, as there had been a number of fights between other tribes over the land not long before.

  My own tribe, the Ngatiraukawa, and the Ngatimaniapoto would have been very sorrowful indeed if the Government had given the site of Orakau, with all our dead, to Te Kooti. We were very thankful that Mr. Bryce prevented this being done.

  When we were hemmed in at Orakau some of the wounded were crying for water, and I ran to the swamp with a calabash to get some. I passed right through the soldiers. Perhaps they knew what I wanted the water for, for they did not fire at me.

  In answer to a question as to his age, Paerata spoke of a fight near Otaki, at Horowhenua, in 1830, and said he was born some time after that. He added, ‘I am about sixty-six, I think, but I fully intend to live another sixty-six years.’

  During the fight at Orakau a son of Raharuhi showed great courage; but after shooting one of the soldiers he became so elated that he jumped on the bank, and was shot through the heart. Another man called Aporo, kept standing up on the parapet, every now and then calling out, ‘The sky is clear towards the east, but dark on the west and south.’ He wished to convey to those Natives outside that the side towards the east was not so well protected by the Europeans, and encouraging the Natives to try and make a diversion in our favour on that side.

  Te Heuheu, Te Huiatahi, and a small party came as near to us as they could, but were fired at by the big guns. They sat on the hill and wept their farewell, for they thought that we would none of us escape. Te Heuheu, with a few followers, tried to come to our assistance, but were kept back by the others, who said it was useless to go to certain death.

  Last of the Ōrākau

  POUPATATE TE HUIHI

  of the

  NGĀTI MANIAPOTO, NGĀTI UNU

  Collected by Raureti Te Huia in 1920, Te Huihi’s account was sent to James Cowan. Te Huihi also spoke to G. E. Elliot who, shortly after Te Huihi’s death, published a story on the old man in the Auckland Star, 8 August 1931 under the heading ‘Last of the Orakaus’. James Cowan papers, Alexander Turnbull Library, MS-Papers-0039-11

  Te Pakanga ki Orākau

  Nō te mea e noho huihui ana mātou i Ohinek
ura, ka tū mai a Te Waro ka mea ia, ‘Whakarongo mai te iwi, ko tōku hiahia kia hangaia he pā mō tātou ki Parāoanui, kāore hoki he pai o te noho noa iho, kāore he pā.’ Nā Manga i mea ki Orākau he pā, ki te wāhi matara i ngā Pākehā, ki te wāhi anō hoki i ngā kai. Ka tū mai a Raureti, a Paiaka, otirā ngā iwi katoa ka tautoko i te kōrero a Manga ki Orākau he pā.

  Nō te otinga o tēnei take, kātahi ahau (Poupatate) ka tukuna ki Wharepūhunga ki te whakatū i ngā iwi o reira, kua oti te kupu me hui mai ki Hokokura, ā, kua oti te kupu ki Orākau he pā. Nō Kauaeroa ka ngenge ahau ka noho ahau i reira, kātahi ka tukuna atu ko Pehimana o Ngāti Tākitai hei kawe i taua kōrero ki a Tūwharetoa, Raukawa, Te Urewera, me ērā atu hapū i ērā takiwā. Nā tēnei karanga ka hui ētehi ki Hokohura, ko ētahi i haere tonu ake ki Orākau.

  Kāti ko ngā tāngata i hui mai nei ki Hokokura i whiriwhiri anō i tētehi pā hou, heoi kāore i oti tēnā take, ko te haerenga tēnei o ngā iwi katoa ki Orākau kē. Nō te mea ka tae mātou ki Rangataua ka meatia ko Karapōnia te wāhi pai. Nā te kore wai ka hē, kātahi ka meatia ki Karapōnia tonu he pā, oti ake ki reira, arā Orākau. Kei reira te wai me ngā kai, nō aku hungawai tēnā kāinga.

  Anō, ka oti te kōrero, kātahi mātou ka tīmata ki te keri i ngā parepare o te pā, a roto, a waho. Ko te pekerangi kei te kaki o te tangata te teitei, ko waho he mea taiepa, e toru ngā rera mō te hōiho tēnā kei te uru mai. Nō te rua o mātou pō e mahi ana i te pā i te ata tonu o tētehi rangi ka kitea tō mātou pā e te Pākehā, anō ka karanga a Āporo, ‘Ko te whakaariki, ko te whakaariki.’ Kua peke tēnā, tēnā ki tāna pū, ki tāna pū, kua takoto. Kāore i roa kua karanga, ‘Kei te tonga.’ Ka tata, ka karanga anō a Aporo, ‘He kāore whenua.’ Nō konei ka kite mātou kātahi a Manga ka karanga, ‘Pūhia e te parepare o waho!’ Kātahi ka pūhia e waho, pūhia e roto (E tama, me te mea he repo harakeke e kainga ana e te ahi te haere o te matā).

  Nō konei ka tangi anō te piukara tuatoru, ka mutu te whakaoke a te Pākehā kātahi ka pakū mai te pū repo i Karapōnia, ā, toru ngā ngakū, kāti kāore he pā i whara i ngā matā. I ngā whakaeke nei ka hinga tētehi Pākehā ki waho tonu atu i tō mātou pā, ka mea e Te Waro ki ngā tamariki, kia tōia mai, kia tangohia te manawa, kia kohuna mā Uenuku (te atua o te whawhai). Kāore a Rewi Maniapoto me ētehi o ngā rangatira i whakaae ki taua tikanga. Anō, ka pō, i te ata, kapi tonu te whenua katoa i te kohu. Nō tēnei rangi ka mate a Āporo i tū i te matā, i te matenga o tēnā ka riro ko Raureti ki tēnā tūranga.

  Kāti, tīmata mai i te pō tae noa mai ki te ata nei, e whakahaere ana tētehi take kia wāhia te pā, ko taua take nā Tūpōtahi, ā, ka tae taua take ki a Rewi Maniapoto, kātahi a ia ka mea, ‘Kei a Raureti te kōrero.’ Nō te taenga o Tūpōtahi ki a Raureti kāore tērā i whakaae kia wāhi te pā, ka riri mātou ki a Raureti mō te korenga i whakaae ki tā Tūpōtahi. Ao ake tētahi rangi kātahi ngā koroheke katoa ka kikiri i mate a Te Waro, a Pōtene ki konā.

  Nō te mea ka tauhinga te rā, ka tū mai tētehi Pākehā ka mea mai ki a mātou, ‘Kaua ahau e pūhia, he kupu tāku nā te tianara (mau te rongo).’ Ka utua e Tūmanako Karamoa, ‘Ka houhia e au te rongo.’ Ka mea a Manga, ‘Waiho kia puta ahau ki waho, ka hohou i te rongo.’ Nō konei ka pakū te pū ki te Pākehā, arā ko te tīmatanga anō o te whawhai. Kāore i roa iho ko te horonga o tō mātou pā. Ka horo whakatetonga, nō te taenga ki te titi, me kati nā te Pākehā i reira e ono rawa o mātou i mate ki reira, heoi ko te pakurutanga tēnei ki roto i te repo. Kāti, ko te rōpū kati nō roto i te repo nei ka tū a Te Raore, ka riro i ahau ana hāmanu, ka mahue iho ia i a mātou ki roto i te repo nei. Nō te pō kātahi a ia ka haere ake.

  Heoi ko te mararatanga tēnei o ngā iwi ki ngā wāhi maha o te whenua.

  ORAKAU

  Thomas Bracken

  Three hundred swarthy braves at Orakau —

  Savage warriors from Uriwera

  And from the hills and gorges of Taupo —

  Gathered together to defend the land,

  From the encroachments of the Pakeha.

  The Ngatimaniapoto were there,

  Led on by Rewi Manga, the fearless;

  Te Paerata, famed in many fights,

  Commanded the Ngatiraukawa tribe,

  He was the warrior who cried aloud —

  ‘Me mate au kikonei!’ which means:—

  ‘Let us make the pah here, let us die here!’

  The dauntless chief Te Whenuanui,

  And Hapurona of Uriwera,

  Headed their wild and savage warriors.

  Te Waru was there with his East Coast braves,

  And other chiefs famed in song and story:

  Met on the spot to resist the spoilers,

  Who had taken the land from the Maori,

  In the name of the Queen of the far land.

  Only three hundred warriors were there,

  Entrenched within the weak unfinished pah.

  Only three hundred brave men and women,

  To meet the Pakeha, who surrounded

  The sod-built fortress with his well-drilled troops,

  Nearly two thousand hardy Britons —

  The Royal Irish and Forest Rangers,

  And Fortieth Fighters under Leslie.

  It was the second morning of April,

  When the colours in Nature’s dress were changing

  From the brown and russet hues of autumn

  To the dark and sadder shades of winter.

  Three hundred lion-hearted warriors

  Assembled with Rewi, to fan the flame

  Of deadly hatred to the Pakeha

  Into a vengeful blaze at Orakau.

  Chanting the deeds of their ancestors,

  They cried aloud — ‘Me mate te tangata,

  Me mate mo te whenua!’ — which means :—

  ‘The warrior’s death is to die for the land!’

  Roaring for blood, our early gun

  Rent the clouds like a thunder-clap;

  Carey cried, ‘There’s work to be done’ —

  Close to the walls we pushed the sap,

  ‘Ready, lads, with your hand grenades,

  Ready, lads, with your rifles true;

  Ready, lads, with your trusty blades,

  Ready, lads, with your bayonets, too.

  ‘Now for the Armstrongs, let them roar:

  Death unto those that laugh at peace —’

  Into the nest our volleys pour —

  ‘Steady there!—let the firing cease.’

  ’Tis Cameron’s voice — ‘Tell the foe

  To leave the pah, their lives we’ll spare,

  Tell them, Britons can mercy show,

  Nothing but death awaits them there.’

  Then Major Mair, with flag of truce before the Maoris stood,

  And said, ‘Oh friends, be warned in time, we do not seek your blood;

  Surrender, and your lives are safe.’ Then through the whole redoubt

  The swarthy rebels answered, with a fierce defiant shout,

  ‘Ka Whawhai tonu! Ake! Ake! Ake!’

  Again spake gallant Mair, ‘Oh friends, you wish for blood and strife,

  With blind and stubborn bravery, preferring death to life:

  But send your women and your children forth, they shall be free.’

  They answered back, ‘Our women brave will fight as well as we.’

  ‘Ka Whawhai tonu! Ake! Ake! Ake!’

  Uprose brave Ahumai then, a chieftainess, and said,

  ‘Oh! what have we to live for, if our dearest ones be dead?

  If fathers, husbands, brothers too, as mangled corpses lie,

  Why should we stay behind them here? Beside them let us die!’

  ‘Ka Whawhai tonu! Ake! Ake! Ake!’

  Again the fiery-throated cannon roared aloud for blood,

  Again the hungry eagle swooped and shrieked for human food;

  Again wild spirits soaring, saw their shattered shells beneath

  In pools of gore, and still was heard defiance to the death.

 
; ‘Ka Whawhai tonu! Ake! Ake! Ake!’

  Now, now, the bold defenders, in a solid body break

  Right through the sod-built barricade, o’er palisade and stake,

  And leaping o’er the trenches, ’mid a storm of shot and shell;

  They rushed to liberty or death, still shouting as they fell:

  ‘Ka Whawhai tonu! Ake! Ake! Ake!’

  With wild, untutored chivalry the rebels scorn’d disgrace,

  Oh! never in the annals of the most heroic race

  Was bravery recorded more noble or more high,

  Than that displayed at Orakau, in Rewi’s fierce reply.

  ‘Ka Whawhai tonu! Ake! Ake! Ake!’

  Hītiri Te Paerata, 1828–1909, who related his eyewitness account of the battle to Captain Mair in 1888. Alexander Turnbull Library, PAColl-7512-03

  Ngati Maniapoto survivors commemorating the Jubilee of the Battle of Ōrākau. The group includes two whose eyewitness accounts are reproduced here: Poupatate Te Huihi (third from left) and Te Huia Raureti (third from right).

  Sir George Grey Special Collections, Auckland Libraries, 31-K2804

  As for the very last survivor of the Battle of Ōrākau, this is believed to be Atareti Te Hira of Ngāti Maniapoto, who had been a toddler in the pā. She died in 1955, aged about 95.

  Paitini Wī Tāpeka of Ruatahuna, a survivor of the Battles of Te Tapiri and Ōrākau, as depicted in Elsdon Best’s book Tuhoe: The Children of the Mist, where his account of the battle is recorded, and also photographed with Best. Alexander Turnbull Library, 1/2-004998-G

  Te Huia Raureti in 1920, when he recalled his experiences of the battle to his son. Alexander Turnbull Library, PAColl-3033-1-08

  Photographs from the Auckland Weekly News of schoolchildren rehearsing incidents from the battle on the exact spot in 1921.