THE FIGHT AT TE NGUTU O TE MANU.

Patea Mail, Volume XII, Issue 12, 14 May 1886, Page 2

THE FIGHT AT TE NGUTU O TE MANU.

(Lyttelton Times.) To the memory of the brave dekd.” ’ .'v Such was the heading of an account we, pub lished lately, telling bow a memorial had been erected at Manaia to those who fell in the fight at Te Ngutu o te-Manu pah. The strange name must have puzzled many. A quarter of a century has all but paused away since ;the fanatic Te, tTa strung together the grotesque rites of the'Han Han- superstition. The. little spark he lit in his homo in the dark-forest that fringes the base of beautiful Mount Egmont spread, as it were, into a roaring flame. A flame, too, that ran like, wildfire through'the North. A flame that was staniped out in; one place only to appear with threefold devouring force in another. A flame that grew on what it fed—cattle, houses, strong baen, defenceless •women, helpless babes ; a flame that threatened fairly to lick up every outlying settlement that the pakeha bad founded, east and yvest ; a flame that in its* hunger for -white' flesh burned up many a staunch dark-skinned :friend and ; ally. For many years the dark oloudj of war hung over the Northlßland,breakingihWaikato only to lower more darkly in Hawke’s Bay or Taranaki. Nearly in their turn have slowly stripped the white snow-cloak from the mountain’s giant-'shoulders since that cloud closed down upon the fair rolling patkj like lands that sprpad around Manaia. A pleasant country in very deed is that of the Waimake plains, which are no plains at all J in bur sense of the word, but rather undulating prairies, watered by a score of strewns that tpmble down their sparkling waters, caught from the mists and Clouds of Nature’s great condenser, the tall white, cone ,of tfae djQad volcano, which towers over all the landscape like ; Bome_ silent, watchful powers. Rendered’thus fertile aha dotted with islands, :capes, any .peninsulas'of trees, the selvege .pf that impenetrable bush through which Genera! Chute hewed his way behind the mountain, there is acarce a fairer spot in -IJew Zealand.’} With the-thought of it all’in mind, and the bright flash, of the blue heaving ocean beyond, lighting it‘up till it

•MMUhta smili againr ononofty wall.go iactber Btill.'ftnd say there is scarce a fairer spot ih "all the world. Yet there, hardly out of sight of the pretty little { town, embayed among the great trees, is a patch,of ground stained with the blood of'men is brave as any of our British race, and haunted by the memory of a bloody massacre, for it was little less, by suspicions ot desertion in the hour of greatest danger; fouled tathefcelebration of cannibal orgies that, can be but guessed atj for their full horrors are unknown* It was the 7th of September, 1868-a black day evep in the dark history of our northern island. At daybreak Colonel M’Donnell sallied forth from the ? Waihi redoubt with 250 Europeans (Volunteers and Armed Constabulary) and 110 friendly Natives. Von Tempsky, the longhaired, the dashing Prussian, the adventurous, traveller in tropical forests, who had carried his life in his hands in Mexico, bad. sought for gold in California, piloted the up noisoine rivers in Central Africa, scouted and starved for us in Waikato and the EastiiOhaefen •! Ypn,”aa- the men; used to- call tflo daring, chivalrous, gallant soldier of fortune they all loved so well—“ Yon ” was there at the head of a division. Roberts, then a subInspector in the Defence Force, now a Colonel, was there, and perchance of his strong, self reliant face, out of which the bold darjs eyes look so i piercingly, wore a slightly anxious mien. ..Buck, a fortnight Roberts* senior, and Hunter the mirthful, with Hastings, - another favourite, wore among the officers destined never to march along a native trail again. With the force, too, went Father Roland, the jovial, fearless Catholic priest, whoeabahaviour in this and other “-affairs” made his name known to all the fighting men for that of a hero. (l)Rangihiwimii, long of limb, and long-headed too, the Native Magiswhose rule was obeyed round (2)Atene, (3)Koriniti, (4)Ranana, and (s)lruharama, the; villasfOs On the banks of the Wanganui River,' acted as commander oLthc. friendly Natives. A month before this M’Donnell had surprised Titokowaru at ,p?e Ngutu-o-tq-Manu and bumt .the place, • Pungarehu, close to Pari- 1 hakai, further'round the broad base of the mountain,- had also- been 1 destroyed.’ But there were other pahs in the outskirts of the bush. Tp .Ruaarua was one of these. Its-exact position does not appear to have been known to'the commander nor to the friendlies; but the?desigh was to. get there, to surprise and carry the place by assault, and to return by Te'Nguth, now, as they thought, a deserted village,* For men 1 *>• e I to- the warfare of the, bush the plan was wholly reckless. It war devoid of even common caution. It is useless, after this space of time, to rake up.’tho question, of responsibility, especially when the leader 1 has since received the' New Zealand Cross. But lo plunge into that labyrinth of giant trees, matted with creepers, hung with supplejacks, spudded thick with ferns and undergrowth impassable, pxcept by the aid .of the billhook, cut upianjl caused by deep gullies qnd water course# at nentard inten asieemaa thing hardly conceivable under the circumstances. Thera were soma narrow native trails—tracks just broad- enough; as a rule, tor a man or two on horse back at the most—but only that to To Ngutu was properly known, That M’Donnel struck and followed till be judged it time to makeM% <to<vferda Te- .Rua arua, ‘or rather towards where he supposed it lay. His new track soon gave out, and the contingent halted in a puzzle.; As yet not. an enemy had been sCcn, and it was now mid day. The chief of the’ friendlies, Rangibiwinui, sent a man up into one of the tall rata trees. Half - A mile ahead ho saw some smoke. The chief’s advice to M’Dopnoll was to halt and let his men lie in ambush, meaning to' reconnoitre at dark, and make sure of the prey next morning/ McDonnell chose tq jlounder on. By 2 o’clock the force was straggling through the bush, the Wanganui natives in the van. Suddenly voices were heard. Whares were made out through the screen of trees. The friendlies rushed the place : two or tbreo wild . shots, a corpse to each .bullet, and the place is empty. Thore is a broad, plain, track, however, before the 0 atingent. , All thoughts of a surprise are at an end ; it is simply a case of push on and trust to fate. Rangihiwhinui throws out his mqn as skirmishers. Von Tempsky takes his force forward, the guide and friendlies are out in frontward M’Donnell, thinking Te Rua-arua olefsq. at hand, forms up his men, ready for some sharp fighting. Some 400 or 500 yards further on, more empty whares stand about the track. In a flash the truth bursts upon M’Donnel and bis men ! They are in the rear of Te Ngutu, and the pah they thought level with,the groundds rebuilt, and, with another stockade to boot; frowns before them, bristling with the muzzles of hostile rifles. Little time was left them to digest this grim truth. Before they have a moment to do more than take in the look of the place, the palisade and the little clearing in front of them are dotted with puffs and smoke. Ping ! comes a bullet somewhere from the right, and their eyes search in vain for the marksman. Crack ! crack ! go a couple of rifles in the rear. The sound see.rns to come from the clouds, and a young Wellington volunteer falls to the earth with a sharp cry of pain, clutching wildly at the ferns and roots around him. The officer’s, brains are in a whirl. The British soldier’s recipe for like occasions is a cheer, a wild rush, and then “ cold steel ’’ at close quarters. But where and what'are'you to charge, with a tall palisade in front o! you, an invisible foe to right and rear, and tho. bullets dropping as if from out of the sky, clipping away the twigs and wringing forth a wild curse, a helpless scream or the stifled sub of anguish according to the temperament of those they hit. Von .Tempsky chafes like a oaged-lion at the inaction. Anything is better'than staying thus to be shot down without drawing a trigger. "Forward, man, into that creek and take what cover you can !” But the shattering; volley which pours upon them in answer to ‘this mon'deuyre shows that even the deep gully cannot save them. Perched in tbs tops of lofty rata trees the enemy’s marksmen; single out the officers. The hollow butts, too, of the great parasitical vines are loop-holed, and each stands a little tower, from which men can be picked off with the greatest ease and safety.; > M’Donnell and " Von.” were now separated, and by this time seven 6'f the formers men had breathed their last. The trap had closed upon them all,, and it vas plain that they were in desperate straits. The only loophole of escape was to the left. Towards the left therefore M’Donnell ordered a retreat, not because there was a track, but because Rangihiwinini and bis men bad driven hack the enemy on that side from the forest pah. Sending bis brother to recall Von Tempsky, he and bis men, hampered by the wounded on stretchers, began to cut their way through the l ferns and supplejacks, the enemies’ fire increasing still, and galling them to madness. Bat " Von” and Colonel M’Donnell were never to meet again in M’Donnal and his men got away 1 with corn- ; paratiVe ease. Not so Von Tempsky’s division His men bad been somewhat scattered among the trees and rough grontod, but the news flew like lightening through the force that " Yon was down,” and their spirits fell. Capt .Buck held his position; while Sub-Inspector Roberts went to try and bring in the body of the gallant Prussian. It was but a few moments, but' 'when Roberts . returned Buck lay dead with his face to tho ! foe. What became of the noble dead, Heaven alone knows. “ Von’s ” body was never found. The supreme task of leaning the little band of eighty men out of the ambuscade into ’which they bad stumbled now fell on, Robert’s shoulders. In bis > speech at Mania th» Colonel, like a brave man that he is,'lst not a word escape his lips as to his share in the fight beyond what was barely necessary. Yet if there is a hero in the story of that terrible defeat, it is he who unveiled that monument. His coolness and courage rose with the occasion., At first ho exposed himself with the greatest recklessness. A sergeant seeing him about to throw I 'himself into almost certain death to give help to. some of his men, flung bis arms around his waist, and kept him back by main force. For a few moments Roberts stormed at the man ; but the fellow stuck to hia point, " I’m right, sir, s«d you’re wrong,” he said, as the rifle shots rang m their, ears. * Wo are here, and our lives are in your hands; it is,your duty to keep out *of danger.” It is I those little touches of heroism; that fire a man’s blood when he, reads of them. Roberts saw the justice of the rebuke, kept hia head, got his men together, and tried to thread his way out of the trackless tangle of forest, ferns and creepers. But he had many narrow escapes, and once his carbine was nearly struck from his hands by a shot which ■ bit it. Well might some of tnoso who remember that day be unable to speak at the ceremony last week ! Fop. a «bort ,|he Hau ; Haus dogged their steps,’ and the carnage was .dreadful. .Lieutenant Hastings And seventeen men fell. It was impossible to prevent them huddling together. , Corporal Russel was shot through the leg. Hastings was mortally wounded and lay groaning. Russell screamed out iu bis agony for. aid to get away from the Maoris, (lj Better known to all tne world of New Zealand ! as Major Kemp. (2) Athens- .(S) Corinth - (4) London i. (5) Jerusalem. . {

who were close .upon him, -In pitaoua tones he told of hie young wife and children, He spoke to men with the fear of death before th**". One stayed by him till the last, but, f : handed, coaid do nothing for both of • < > bad the last that was seen of poor In the bands of the foe. begging to be killed Outright and spared from torture. Roberts {bade an incline to the left to join M’Donnell. Dusk closed in, and either that rr satiety of bloodshed, or because the Hau Haus kept 'straight on, (> probably saved his party from total annihilation. Seeing themselves unmo leSted, a quiet halt-wria called. By 3 a.m. the moon would rise and give them a chance of knowing which way to strike, j The horrors of that lonely night watch in the heart of the forest surpassed even what they had gone through by day, Worn with hours bf marching, spent with excitement, fatigue, jand hunger, lowered in spirit with sorrow for the loss of their comrades, rest in the softest of down beds would have been a fitful nightmare.* The stern reality of it all forbade even; brief visits of sleep. Had not the corpses of their fallen friends lay stiffening stark and cold among the plumy ferns, with the night dews lathering on their faces, it might have been endured. But there, from the forest behind thorn, rose the glare of fire and a din of demon music that told only too plainly to _ those who could interpret its meaning, the hideous, unspeakable feast that was going on in the Hau Hau camp, Mad with blood and on fire with Siavage frhpzy, there is no doubt that the living who fell into the handr of Titbkowaru’a men that day were mutilitated and tortured. The bodies were thrown on the fire and fought for afterwards. The Moari man who snatched hone of the unholy food was hooted by the women and children. The blood curdles as the scene of firelight, dancing, and devilry rises before the eye, How that little band, crouched there among the supplejacks- aud ratas in dense darkness, must have /shuddered and gnashed their teeth in impotent rage as the bitterness of it entered like gall and wormwood into their very souls. And when the straggling moonbeams struggled through the thick roof of tree tops and trailing creepers, doubling the ghostliness of the forest, bringing that uncertain light which makes shadows and prtarps and pitfalls, what a march was theirs. The friendly natives were still with them—not a man of all who marched from Waibi, that morning bad been killed; they knew how to fight in the bush—began to lead the way, X desperate, eerie, cruel march, Humanity had to bo cast aside. Wounds had begun to stiffen, and the wounded groaned as they were jolted through the uneven floor of the forest, and the pain racked their limbs. But the commander had to set his teeth and threaten to brain the first man who groaned again. Silence and swift retreat meant life to all. Fortunately the Hau Haus thoughts were bent on their ghastly banqueting. By daybreak the little force began to see their way clear, and bv 8 o’clock were safe in the redoubt once more. Kemp’s men, after holding a tangi all night for their great chief, Hoti te Ana, had started early and met them on the way—a departure from ceremonial that shows their conduct in the brightest colours. The splendid behaviour of the friendlies through that long day was beyond all praise. Forty-six men out of the force that started on the morning of the 7th were missing. One man wandered back after five days, bis limbs swollen, and his mind unhinged, from the privation and hardship he had undergone. The loss of officers made old Crimean heroes recall the fatal day of Inkerman, Majors Hunter and Von Tempsky, Captains Buck and Palmer, Lieutenants Hastings and Rowan, and the unfortunate Russell, carried away to torture, all left their bones about that little Maori clearing. Outside the -forest the scene to-day is that of a beautiful English park. A more peaceful, lovely landscape Hia hard tp conceive. But it will be centuries’before the remembrance of what Was suffered there can be wiped away. Such was the fight at Te Ngutu-o te-Manu, and such the retreat through the forest on the night of September 7th, 1868, May none of those who read this paper pass sthrough thirty hours like those I

[There is evidently a mistake about Lieut. Rowan, for, though dangerously wounded, he ultimately recovered, and was for a long time in charge of the Constabulary outpost at Pukoarube. —Ed P.M.]