ISSUES
www.waikatotimes.co.nz
MONDAY, JULY 25, 2011
7
Orakau: preparing for last stand
After Rewi Maniapoto
and his allies were
driven out of Waikato,
they hatched a plan for a
showdown with the
British at Orakau.
While the smoke from the burning
buildings in the settlement of Rangioawhia
still hung in the air surveyors were
carving up vast tracts of Waikato land in
anticipation of government confiscations.
General Duncan Cameron, who had led his
army around the massive fortifications at
Paterangi and sacked Rangioawhia on
February 21, 1864, was disgusted by the
greed of Pakeha land agents who had
followed his army deep into the Waikato to
claim as much land as they could as soon
as the Waikato tribes were driven from it.
The loss of Rangioawhia, east of Te
Awamutu, and their defeat at the hastily
constructed defensive line at Hairini the
following day, destroyed any possibility
Rewi Maniapoto and his allies had of
holding on to the Waikato. Leaving many
of the most experienced fighting leaders
dead behind them about 3000 demoralised
and exhausted Maori men, women and
children crossed the Puniu River with
whatever possessions and livestock they
could take with them and sought refuge in
the deep forests and steep valleys of the
area known today as the northern King
Country, the lands of Ngati Maniapoto.
Others planned to go eastwards with
Tarapipi te Waharoa to seek safety on the
steep slopes of Maungatautari Mountain.
While the two leaders discussed plans for
their future security and survival they met
a contingent of 150 fighting men from the
East Coast tribes of Ngati Kahungunu and
Tuhoe who had waited in vain at Paterangi
Ferry Landing: Across the harbour from Whitianga.
for the British to attack. They expressed
their frustration at having marched about
200 miles only to find the fighting was over,
they had not had the chance to meet the
Pakeha in battle and had not been given
the courtesy of inclusion in the
deliberations of the fighting leaders.
Maniapoto was embarrassed by their
plight. They had left their homes at his
request and carried their shotguns halfway
across the North Island and now they were
facing the long journey home without
striking a blow. Maniapoto found once
again his mana, his personal prestige and
honour, demanded that he seek another
confrontation with the British – which he
knew he could not win and which could
cost him and many of his people their lives.
But these brave and loyal men would get
their chance to fight the Pakeha.
By this time Maniapoto and his ally te
Waharoa were confident they had a good
understanding of the mind of their
powerful adversary Cameron. His thinking
was vastly different to that of a powerful
Maori fighting leader; he lived and fought
to a different code of honour which the two
Maori leaders felt they finally understood
and it was decided to goad the British into
an unequal fight at Orakau near the north
bank of the Puniu River.
The memory and record of the
discussions between Maniapoto and Te
Waharoa and General Cameron’s battle
decisions which followed, are unreliable
and differ markedly between historians,
both Maori and Pakeha. The leaders on
both sides have been described as
incredibly stupid by some and
outstandingly brilliant others. Their
actions before and after the engagement
suggests they were far from stupid. As a
defensive position Orakau could not have
been a worse choice. It was on a low hill
Drink-driving is an issue which is taken
seriously by the law and society at large. It
has always been so. In the days before the
motor vehicle became New Zealand’s
prime mode of transport the offence of
being drunk in charge of a horse was
commonplace.
Patterns of behaviour from inebriates
behind the reins were remarkably similar
to those behind the wheel. Repeat offenders
were often before courts. As late as 1927
one Charles Neilson was sent to prison for
a month on the occasion of his 13th
conviction for ‘‘being drunk while in
charge of a horse and cart’’. In the next
four years the same thirsty man managed
to offend an incredible 30 more times. Hard
labour in the big house was clearly no
deterrent.
among a grove of fruit trees surrounded by
rolling, open country, making it easy to
surround and it did not have a water
supply or a route of safe retreat other than
southward over open ground to the Puniu
River about 100 yards away.
Given his extensive and successful war
experience Maniapoto must have known
these serious shortcomings and it is clear
he had no intention of winning the battle
he had invited. From oral traditions and
some early historians there emerges a
picture of an extremely astute leader
attempting to shame his more powerful
adversary into calling a halt to the war
rather than slaughter the Maori defenders.
Maniapoto almost certainly knew this
would be the action of a chivalrous Pakeha
fighting leader as he now gauged Cameron
to be. To emphasis the point Maniapoto
had about 50 women and several children
with him in the earth pa his men had dug
on the brow of the hill.
For his part Cameron had no wish to
make martyrs of the Maori defenders and,
while he was obliged to attack the pa and
defeat its occupants, he was determined to
do so with as little bloodshed as possible.
And so they faced off one last time.
Rewi Maniapoto in a battle he had
instigated and fully expected to lose in an
attempt to bring the invasion of the Maori
ancestral lands to an end and preserve his
personal honour. Against him was General
Duncan Cameron, a professional soldier
with an impressive military record faced
with an adversary he could easily crush
but whom he did not want to completely
destroy.
Nineteenth century excuses also bore a
likeness to those used today. In an 1887
case a man admitted to being drunk but
denied that he’d been the driver of the cart.
In 1893 another defendant claimed that he
had only taken brandy for medicinal
purposes. When fined 10 shillings the man
reacted philosophically, reasoning that ‘‘it
would have cost him as much if he had
gone to doctor for medicine’’.
Being drunkenly in charge of an
intelligent beast sometimes had its
advantages. In the 1924 prosecution of
Bridget Condy it was noted that ‘‘the horse
had more sense than the accused’’ and that
‘‘although the conveyance was a concern to
passing motorists’’ the animal was
‘‘wandering along steadily’’ in the correct
direction.
A 1939 offender was even more lucky.
Joe Para fell from his horse and too drunk
to remount he lay in the centre of the road.
The faithful animal stood over Para,
protecting him from on coming traffic. A
contemporary report stated that ‘‘it was
owing largely to the devotion of his horse
that the accused escaped serious injury’’.
Philip Le Quesne
1836-1937
Known as ‘‘Hamilton’s Grand
Old Man’’ Philip Le Quesne saw
Hamilton change from a
primitive frontier settlement to a
town of over 16,000 people during
his 70 years’ residence. A
carpenter by trade, Le Quesne
came from Jersey in 1860; his
wife Mary Ann joined him two
years later after he had built a
house for her. Le Quesne
established a general store first
in Auckland, then Whatawhata
and in 1866 in Hamilton East on
the corner of Clyde and Grey Sts.
One night in 1878 he shifted the
store across the road but used no
warning lights and a horse rider
narrowly avoided a fatal
accident.
Le Quesne established a brick
works and on the store’s original
site he built the Waikato Hotel
and a hall adjacent on Clyde St.
The hall was used for
community meetings and
concerts, including one
fundraising for Hamilton East
Cemetery’s maintenance – there
was no council then to assume
responsibility.
Le Quesne is credited with
several ‘‘firsts’’: he was the first
postmaster, ran the first library,
made the first bricks and the
first wine in the Waikato, was on
the first committee to establish
an Anglican church, started a
bowling green and was on the
first Hamilton Borough Council
in 1878. He was prominent in
forming many aspects of
Hamilton’s political, social and
business activities.
On his 90th birthday the
Waikato Times published a long
article under the sub-title ‘‘A
Courteous Old Gentleman’’. The
article describes him as having a
cheery smile, looking the picture
of health and with merry blue
eyes.
Le Quesne described his
longevity to a life of hard work,
being a non-smoker and eating
good wholesome food. He gave
up work at 84, after he slipped on
an orange peel and fractured his
shoulder.
Le Quesne’s 100th birthday
was national news and was
celebrated with many visitors
and messages. He died in his
101st year at his Hamilton East
home, ‘‘La Retraite’’. His wife
and five of their nine children
predeceased him.
Le Quesne, his wife, a
daughter and two sons are
buried in adjacent graves in
Hamilton East Cemetery.
Together: Philip Le Quesne’s headstone in Hamilton East Cemetery
also records the deaths of his wife and two sons.
Hinuera
Photo: SUNDAY STAR-TIMES
While it is true that New Zealand is a
‘‘young country’’, both geologically and
historically, our history dates backs many
centuries and our environment can tell
that story through wahi tapu,
archaeological sites and historic places.
Not many pre-1840 structures have
survived. One still in use is the stone wharf
at Ferry Landing across the harbour from
Whitianga.
Captain Cook identified the potential
value of New Zealand timber on his
voyages around Aotearoa in the late 18th
century and soon British ships were
anchoring off the coast of the Coromandel
Peninsula to take aboard timber for spars
and masts. Kahikatea proved to be too soft
for maritime use, but kauri was just right.
Logging camps and sawmills sprang up
around the peninsula in the 1830s and
1840s. Local Maori provided access to their
land and the labour that early traders such
as William Webster at Coromandel and
Gordon Browne at Whitianga needed.
To export his timber, Browne built a
wharf in 1838 to service his Ferry Landing
logging camp. Whatever remains of the
camp is now buried beneath a
neighbouring car park but the wharf is still
in good condition. A conservation plan to
ensure its ongoing ‘‘health’’ was recently
commissioned by the Mercury Bay
Community Board.
Browne’s wharf is the oldest stone wharf
in New Zealand. It stands near the site of a
17th century Ngati Hei pa, which had been
abandoned by the time Cook visited in
November 1769. Dozens of visitors take the
ferry between Whitianga and Ferry
Landing each day over the summer.
Hopefully many of them appreciate the
historic ground they are traversing and the
efforts of the local community to protect
one of New Zealand’s most significant
historic places.
Hinuera, about nine kilometres from Matamata, was named after a cooking
incident long ago that involved hot fat. The name is a corruption of
Hinuwera, hinu (fat) wera (hot).
Sources include: Places Names of New Zealand (Reed) and New Zealand
Encyclopedia (Bateman).