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This extract is from 'Te Ata o Tū: The Shadow of Tūmatauenga, The New Zealand Wars Collections of Te Papa' (Te Papa Press, 2024)
The watercolour portrait pictures Ngāi Te Rangi rangatira Hōri Ngātai (c.1839–1912) as an aged warrior, clad in a kahu kiwi and holding a taiaha. The artist, Horatio Gordon Robley, may have met Ngātai at Tauranga in the 1860s, when they were both young men, but he relied on a photograph of a much older Ngātai as the basis for this painting. The photograph may have been taken in 1903, when Ngātai recounted his recollections of events at Pukehinahina, Gate pā, to Gilbert Mair in Wellington, later printed in the Bay of Plenty Times.(1) Ngātai estimated he was ‘about twenty five’ when he fought at Pukehinahina, having already seen some action with his tūpara. His account throws the reader into the thick of the moment, capturing the anticipation of battle as well as the horror and intimacy of the fighting:
‘The warriors of the Queen, soldiers and sailors, were marshalled in array of battle, and then they advanced towards us. T’was an army that marched against our fort—a great body of infantry and a number of cannon. Anana! The hour was at hand. Te Poihipi, a cool brave man, called out to us from his post on the parapet: ‘Eat well, oh friends. Eat leisurely—make one more hearty meal. I will watch here and give you timely warning.’ ‘E Tama! When we gazed on these soldiers, how could we eat? Grandly did they march; strode they towards us as one man, with measured resounding footsteps, their bright bayonets flashing in the sun, and their great guns rumbling along—those terrible guns, which we thought would soon blow our frail defences into the air. Oh friend, when we gazed on those sons of thunder, launched forward in their might, can you wonder that the cooked potatoes seemed to have lost their sweetness and that many a one of us forgot his hunger?’ The British column came to within five or six hundred yards of our front, then most of the soldiers turned to the right on to Pukereia Hill, where they mounted their guns and pitched tents. One of the cannon (the 110-pound. Armstrong) was planted in the middle of the road, right opposite our pa. Some of the soldiers came quite close to us, walking leisurely about smoking their pipes. This was on April 28th. Soon there was a flash and a roar and a shell from the big gun flew whistling like a ‘Kehua’ (spirit) over our heads. Several other shots followed, and some rockets were fired at us without much effect. The troops in front made a sort of sham attack, while a large force (the 68th Regiment under Colonel Greer) deployed round by Ruatuna, guided by Tupotahi and Hamiora Tu, and under the cover of darkness took up a position in our rear. So the next morning the pakehas were in front of us, on our left flank and in our rear, and then the fight began in earnest. The big guns poured shot and shell into our position and the rifle balls whistled round us.
. . .
‘The cannonade became heavier. An awful fire was concentrated on our redoubt. Eighteen big guns (so we learned afterwards) were hurling their projectiles at us and shells were bursting all round. Our fences and frail parapets crumbled away under the heavy artillery fire, and splinters and earth were continually flying through the air. We were every now and then smothered with the dirt thrown up by the exploding shells, and this the rain, which had set in, soon converted into mud. To add to our suffering, the troops who had crossed an arm of the Kopurererua swamp had, by dint of laying down planks and fascines, managed to get a big gun across, which they placed on a hill to our left and it completely raked our position. The troops in our rear (the 68th) began to close in on us. The chief, Te Hawa, stood up on the ruined parapet shouting defiance at them and calling on us to meet their attack with courage.
. . .
‘The British assault on the Pa was delivered about four o’clock in the afternoon. The storming party, soldiers and sailors of the Naval Brigade and 43rd Regiment (in all about 300 men) rushed gallantly to the attack. Then we loosed our fire on them when they got well within range—still they charged on, with bayonets fixed and swords waving, cheering as they came. Through and over the breach walls they rushed; they entered the ruins of the larger pa; most of it was in their possession. But all at once the tide of war was changed. Up leaped our men from the rifle pits as if vomitted from the bowels of the earth, and together with those who had been forced back by the 68th Regiment in the rear, began a deadly hand to hand fight with the storming party. The defenders of the smaller pa held their position and raked the attackers with a heavy fire. Men fell thick and fast. Tomahawk clashed on cutlass and bayonet—tupara (double and single barrel fowling pieces) met rifle and pistol. Skulls were cloven—Maoris were bayoneted—Ngaiterangi patiti (hatchets) bit deep into white heads and shoulders. The place was soon full of dying and dead men, pakeha and Maori. We in the eastern position of the large pa stood firm. It was terrible work, but soon over. The pakehas were driven clean out of the pa; as they ran our men falling upon them. They fell back on their main body below our works, leaving many of their dead and wounded strewn on the battle ground.
. . .
‘Our loss in the fight was about 25 men killed, including the following: Petarika Te Reweti Manatini (taken next day to Te Papa, where he died), Eru Puhirake, Te Kani, Reka Tamatea, Ihaka, Te Wano, Te Rauhuhu, Tikuhu, Te Rangitau, Te Keni Te Wharepouri and Parawai. We Heti was both bayoneted and shot but got away, also Hone Taharangi and Te Moananui, the latter with gunshot wounds. Our leader, Rawiri, was killed at Te Ranga a few weeks afterwards. This is all.'
1. Gilbert Mair, The Story of Gate Pa, April 29th 1864, (Bay of Plenty Times, Tauranga, 1937), pp. 22-28