www.waikatotimes.co.nz
MONDAY, AUGUST 1, 2011
7
Orakau and the general’s dilemma
Rewi Maniapoto’s
stand at Orakau posed a
dilemma for General
Duncan Cameron.
He did not want to turn
Rewi Maniapoto into a
martyr – it was against
Cameron’s upbringing
and professional
training to kill a
defenceless foe – but
the defenders refused to
surrender.
With the on-going fall out over the Rupert
Murdoch empire’s phone tapping activities
the politics and behaviour of the gutter
press has been the subject of much debate.
Rightly or wrongly Murdoch has long been
thought personally responsible for the
deterioration of journalistic standards and
cultural life in the Western world.
In 1994, in his infamous last interview,
the writer Dennis Potter revealed that he
had christened his pancreatic tumour
‘‘Rupert’’, a reflection of the fact that
Murdoch was the individual whom he
would most like to kill. According to Potter
‘‘there is no one person more responsible
for the pollution of what was already a
fairly polluted press’’. Murdoch’s
monopoly of global media was seen by
Potter as leading to ‘‘cynicism and
It took Rewi Maniapoto’s force of about 300
people almost two days, towards the end of
March in 1864, to dig a defensive fort on the
top of a low hill at Orakau.
Most of the remainder of the combined
Waikato and Ngati Maniapoto fighting
force had retired, with King Tawhiao, far
inland beyond the Puniu River after the
fall of Rangioawhia, surrendering the
northern Waikato to General Duncan
Cameron’s army.
Under normal circumstances Rewi and
his small band of followers would have
gone with them but the fighting leader was
faced with a difficult problem of honour
which could not be ignored.
A party of volunteers had arrived from
the far-off East Coast and Urewera tribes of
Ngati Kahungunu and Tuhoe, in response
to his plea for help, and they now
demanded the opportunity to test
themselves against the Pakeha invaders
even though the war for the Waikato had
been lost.
After long discussion between the
leaders it was decided to goad the British
into a fight at Orakau, a well-established
Maori settlement about two miles (3.2 km)
north of the Puniu River where, in a
fenced-off orchard, they dug in.
There was no water supply and only
limited means of withdrawal to safety
beyond the Puniu River but Rewi hoped to
prick the conscience of General Cameron
into calling a halt to the inevitable
slaughter.
It was a better option than outright
surrender and it was a gamble that he
almost lost. The fort was mostly below
ground level with deep trenches to avoid
the worst impact of shelling. Here the
Maori fighters waited for the expected
attack to start despite their leaders
knowing they were not in a good defensive
position, had little if any chance of
survival, and no hope of a victory.
As it happened, General Cameron was
away from the front lines at the time and
the army was under the command of
Brigadier-General Carey, a tough,
ambitious military campaigner.
The hilltop fort was soon surrounded
but, as the infantry, under Captain Ring,
moved closer they could not see the lowprofile fort over the brow of the hill until
they were within 40 or 50 yards (about 37m
to 46m) of the main trenches.
Rewi had his fighters hold their fire until
the infantry were very close and then a
volley of shotguns killed several outright
and wounded many others. One of those
killed was Captain Ring.
Several more attempts were made to
storm the fort but the infantry were beaten
back with more losses and Brigadier Carey
ordered them to withdraw and brought up
his artillery. But shells had little effect
because the Maori fighters withdrew into
their underground bunkers.
Brigadier Carey eventually ordered the
big guns to cease fire and started his men
digging zig-zag sap – a deep trench – to
allow his soldiers to get closer to the fort
without being exposed to fire from within.
Some time on the second day, a party of
about 300 fighters from Maungatautari,
probably Tarapipi Te Waharoa’s people,
arrived and bravely attempted to fight
their way into the besieged fort to help
their kinsmen, but they were driven off.
By the morning of the third day of the
siege, when General Cameron arrived, the
Maori defenders had run out of water and
were short of ammunition.
General Cameron assumed command
from Brigadier Carey and probably
prevented an almost certain massacre. He
sent Gilbert Mair, who spoke fluent Maori,
forward under a truce flag and invited
Rewi to surrender because his position was
clearly hopeless.
No-one is sure who gave the famous
reply or even what the words were.
Some say Rewi Maniapoto himself called
back: ‘‘E hoa, ka whawhai tonu matau ake,
ake, ake’’ – ‘‘My friend, we will fight you
forever, forever, forever.’’
Others say it was Hauraki Tanganui who
replied, saying ‘‘Kaore e mau te rongo, ake,
ake’’ – ‘‘We will never surrender, never,
never.’’
Cameron was said to have been sick at
heart knowing he had little option but to
order the attack to resume with the
inevitable slaughter of the defenders.
It was against his upbringing and
professional training to kill a defenceless
foe. More importantly he did not want to
turn Rewi Maniapoto into a martyr.
He then offered to let the women and
children leave before hostilities were
resumed but a young woman, Ahumai te
Paerata, called back ‘‘Ki te mate nga tane,
me mate ano nga wahine me nga
tamariki’’– ‘‘If the men are to die, the
women and children will die with them
also’’.
Try as he might it seemed Cameron
would have to have everyone in the fort
killed or wounded. With 1800 men at his
back it would be a relatively simple task.
misconceptions of our own realities that
destroys so much of our political
discourse’’. Anyone who has ever watched
Murdoch’s Fox News with a critical eye
could but agree.
The politics of our own mainstream
media is seldom as overt as that in the UK
or USA. The ideologically sensitive might
disagree but in general there is at least a
pretence of objectivity, with the major
issues of the day seemingly covered from
different perspectives. Perhaps because the
bias is more subtle it is more insidious.
It was not always the case. From its
inception in 1905 until at least the early
1920s the New Zealand Truth mixed a
radically left-wing political agenda with a
muck-racking approach that took no
prisoners. Its populist journalism took
great delight in blackening the names of
the rich and powerful and in openly
attacking any rival publications of a
conservative ilk. The prose style could best
be described as lurid.
Take for example a 1908 article that
touches on an issue that continues to
resonate today: youth rates. The Truth
devoted not one, not two but four separate
headlines to the piece, referencing the evils
of a hash-house sweatshop owner who was
also a Wellington City Councillor: ‘‘The
grinding Godbers. The pastry puff
councillor’s dirty dodges. A Miserable,
Skin-flint Sweater. Mrs Godber’s Vixenish
Vagaries’’.
In telling the tale of ‘‘citizen John
Godber’’ a man who ‘‘tries to run
Wellington’s municipal affairs when he
hasn’t sufficient brains to master his own
biz’’ and his wife ‘‘who certainly wears the
figurative trousers in the Cuba St shop’’,
the paper wastes no opportunity to mock
and malign. Mrs Godber’s ‘‘vixenish
behaviour’’ toward her employees and
‘‘Jam-tart James’s’’ efforts to ‘‘dodge the
payment of a minimum wage’’ make them
worthy targets for the pro-Union vitriol.
The practice of deliberately employing
juveniles for as much as 10 shillings under
the award rate, or otherwise ‘‘diddling’’
staff is seen as ‘‘sweating in the first
degree’’.
Pointing out that Godber had failed in
his bid to be elected to Parliament – ‘‘the
astute electors cast him out on his crimson
ear, primarily because someone called him
‘pie’ ’’ – the Truth then bemoans the fact
‘‘Gridiron hasn’t got the pluck to come up
to time in November’’ in that the ‘‘free and
independent elector should be deprived of
the pleasure of hurling him into obscurity
again’’.
The paper is at its disingenuous best
claiming that it ‘‘leaves its readers to make
up their own minds about the particulars
furnished’’. Such purple passages left little
room for conclusions other than those of
the editor. Closer to the mark is the paper’s
statement of principle: ‘‘Truth considers
that it is doing a duty to society by showing
up people of this description’’. While the
politics might be of an opposing shade,
Murdoch himself might claim as much.
Symbol of unity: The Departmental Building in Te Kuiti’s Queen St.
Roberts Wood
1866-1887
The grave for Roberts Henri
Browne Wood who died after a
firearm accident in 1887 is in
Hamilton East Cemetery.
Roberts Wood was the youngest
son of Browne and Elizabeth
Wood, and brother of Charles
Crawford Wood, who owned the
Matangi property ‘‘Woodside’’ in
the late 1870-1880s.
Their two-storey wooden house
is registered by the Historic
Places Trust as a significant
remnant of the farming
community that helped shape the
dairy industry in the Waikato.
The house was designed by
Hamilton architect T.H. White
and built in late 1878, early 1879
for Charles Wood (c.1848-1881). It
was the homestead for a large
farm of over 1680 acres (680
hectares).
In 1876 Charles married Jane
Haultain, daughter of Colonel
Theodore Haultain of the Fourth
Waikato Regiment. They lived at
Woodside and by 1880 Browne and
Elizabeth were living there too.
Both Charles and Browne were
elected to the board of the
Tamahere Highway District in
charge of the establishment or
improvement of roads and bridges
in the district. The Woods farmed
sheep, cattle, had a dairy herd and
grew grain crops and carrots.
In February 1880 Jane gave
birth to a son, Athol, at Woodside.
His father Charles died a year
later at age 33 of dropsy (oedema).
Two dreadful accidents
occurred at Woodside: in 1886 sixyear-old Athol died when playing
on a Cambridge roller – the horse
team attached took fright and he
was crushed beneath the roller.
Then on June 27, 1887, Roberts
Wood, who was a bank clerk for
the Bank of New Zealand, visited
his parents when en route from
Cambridge to Hamilton. He was
carrying a loaded doublebarrelled shotgun. He arrived at
the gate, waved to his sister
Emilie and tripped while
dismounting. The gun discharged,
blowing off the top of his head.
The Woods put Woodside on the
market just three months later.
They sold their furniture, a
Cartland wagon, an English
buggy, a threshing machine,
harrows, implements, kauri
timber and livestock, which
included 10 horses, 40 dairy cows,
20 young cattle, 350 crossbred
ewes and lambs. The Woods left in
October 1887 for Nelson, where
Browne and Elizabeth died in 1905
just four weeks apart.
Simple : The
brief
inscription
on Roberts
Wood’s
gravestone
at Hamilton
East.
Photo:
SUPPLIED
Orini
A key aspect of our architectural history is
the role that central government has
played in erecting buildings throughout
New Zealand.
Everywhere you go there are post offices,
railway stations and courthouses that were
built to house the instruments of the state
and also served as important symbols of
national unity and identity.
In the early 20th-century Government
Architect John Campbell fostered the use
of architecture as an expression of national
unity by adopting the Edwardian Baroque
style for all government buildings. A richly
decorative variant of the classical style,
Edwardian Baroque expressed the wealth
and optimism of the new century.
In the Auckland Railway Station and
Wellington’s Public Trust and Parliament
Buildings, Campbell’s government style
was at its grandest. But the style was also
used to good effect in provincial New
Zealand, as can be seen in Te Kuiti’s
Departmental Building and the
neighbouring Courthouse, built in 1907 and
1908 respectively. The township’s new
railway station was also built in 1908 and
in the same year Auckland’s Weekly News
described Te Kuiti as a ‘‘rising King
Country township’’. The government
building housed local Public Works
Department staff but by the 1980s it was
unused and under threat of demolition. In
1987 the local council acquired the building
and agreed to lease it to the Te Kuiti and
District Historical Society for a peppercorn
rental on condition it was maintained.
Despite its worn condition the building
retains a very high level of architectural
integrity. Perhaps the historical society
might like to call for donations to help save
this piece of King Country heritage.
Many thanks to Bruce Fuller, of Te
Kuiti, for drawing this local landmark to
my attention.
Place of
worship: Orini
District Church.
Photo: TIMES FILE
Orini, about 15 kilometres from the Waikato riverside community of Taupiri,
translates as Place of Pouring Out and takes its name from the pouring out
of water from the nearby swamps of the region into the Waikato River.
Before agricultural development and drainage schemes, these swamps and
wetlands covered many hundreds of acres and were a valued source of
birds, fish and flax for early Maori.
Sources include Places Names of New Zealand (Reed) and New Zealand
Encyclopedia (Bateman)