The long years of Queen Victoria's reign were typified by numerous 'small wars' as the British Empire spread its influence over the globe and it came into inevitable collision with the numerous and varied inhabitants of the lands it occupied who, understandably, took issue with an abrupt change in the status quo, a diminution of their power and privileges and the intrusive presence of a colonists supported by a massive modern army and navy. Bloodshed was always inevitable as was, in almost all cases, the outcome of the conflicts. The pattern was broadly similar wherever the Union flag was raised and the colonisation of New Zealand in the middle years of the nineteenth century proved no exception. The Maoris fought several of these small wars, which were motivated primarily by their objection to clear injustices perpetrated against them. Predictably these engagements were bitter, savage, hard fought affairs fought by a primitively armed tribal people of redoubtable courage who eventually had little chance against an imperial military force of the industrial age. What makes these wars fascinating for the student of military history is, of course, the effect upon these campaigns as influenced by the nature of the protagonists, the manner of waging war they employed and the telling influence of the terrain over which they were fought. Those who know anything of this campaign will know that it was often fought in deep forest where the hard held Maori pah had to be assaulted and taken at some cost to both sides. It gave rise to fascinating colonial units, like Von Tempski's Forest Rangers. It pitted a warrior people against regular regiments in bitter conflict which taught the British Army hard and bloody lessons; and it introduced to the Empire a fighting people who would one day prove to be equally formidable in war for the causes of those who were once its enemies. This was not the first or the last war waged between the Crown and the Maoris but it was one of the most notable and this account makes fascinating reading. Available in softcover and hardcover with dust jacket.
On the Waikato were two friendly chiefs, Kukutai and Te Wheoro, and provisions were brought up the Waikato in canoes manned by friendly natives. At a post called “Cameron” commissariat supplies had been stored under the protection of Kukutai’s people—en route to the Mangatawhiri for the Queen’s Redoubt. The hostile natives, with a force of 200 men, attacked Cameron on the 7th of September, took the place from Kukutai’s people, and destroyed the commissariat supplies, consisting principally of bran, oats, and maize, and set fire to the pah.<br>
Mr. Armytage, a district magistrate employed under the Native department of the Government, resided at Cameron in charge of the arrangements for canoe transport, had just reached the place before the attack, and was killed by the enemy.<br>
The attack having been observed from the post at Tuakau, about seven miles higher up the Waikato, Captain Swift, 65th Regiment, commanding there, immediately started with one officer and fifty men in support of the friendly pah.<br>
The route lay over a very difficult and circuitous bush track of about eight miles inland from the river. On coming near the place Maoris were heard through the thick bush speaking, and were at first believed to be approaching the party, who prepared to receive them. The enemy, however, not having come towards them, Colour-Sergeant McKenna volunteered to act as scout, and went forward alone to gain intelligence, and heard the Maoris conversing, and believed from their tone and manner that they were partly intoxicated.<br>
Captain Swift then directed the men to fix bayonets and charge into an open space, where the enemy were really on the qui vive, and awaiting them. As our men, led by their officers, came to the clearing, they received a close volley in front, and on the left flank; Captain Swift fell mortally wounded, but directed Lieutenant Butler, the only other officer, to charge the enemy. As this officer was leading the men on, he, too, received a severe wound across the abdomen, after which he shot two Maoris with his revolver. Colour-Sergeant McKenna then assumed the command of the party, which he handled, as Lieutenant Butler stated, with admirable coolness and skill.<br>
It should be stated that while Captain Swift was moving to the post, his advance guard of twelve men missed the track, and in consequence of the density of the bush got separated from the main body, which they were never again able to rejoin, although they too were, during a part of the time, engaged with the enemy. Thus the party who met the first and most fatal fire of the enemy only numbered thirty-eight; these were further reduced by the number bearing the wounded to about thirty, and yet this handful of men, after both their officers were suddenly struck down, gallantly held their own in the presence of 200 of the enemy, who did not attempt to pursue them.<br>
Captain Swift, before he left his post, had judiciously sent a report to headquarters at the Queen’s Redoubt, that he was about to start for the relief of Cameron, when the general at once decided on despatching from the Queen’s Redoubt 150 men of the 65th, under Colonel Murray, in support.<br>
When Captain Swift fell mortally wounded, after speaking a few words to Sergeant McKenna, he handed him his revolver, and told him to lead on the men after the fall of Lieutenant Butler. The sergeant and his men now charged the enemy furiously to revenge the fall of their officers. Men in charge of Captain Swift and Lieutenant Butler were sent to the rear, and the body of a slain soldier was covered and concealed with fern. The sergeant being on an open clearing, and greatly outnumbered, determined to hold his own till dark, hoping that the men in charge of Captain Swift and Lieutenant Butler, with two wounded men, would get well to the rear, and would be joined by the advance guard.<br>
About 6 o’clock the enemy had worked round to the rear of the party, and thus cut off their retreat by the way they came. The sergeant immediately ordered a charge, and was met by a volley, which killed one and wounded three men. He now determined to retreat down the hill, which was covered with fern, and, sending on the wounded, he threw out a line of skirmishers, with the order, “Fire, and retire.”<br>
In this way they retreated down the hill in a steady, orderly manner, the natives coming out of the bush and firing at the party, but without effect on the men in motion. At this time it was near dark, and scrambling through the bush they lost the track, when the sergeant, calling his men about him, told them he should stay where he was until morning, and ordered that not a word should be spoken nor a pipe be lighted.