Few, if any, of the thousands of American officers, bluejackets, and marines, of the fleet which visited New Zealand this year, were aware that their forebears, serving on the sloop of war St. Louis, had participated in stirring events under fire of the Maoris in that vicinity eighty years before.
Chivalrous and magnanimous, there never were warriors who possessed a higher degree of intelligent fighting spirit or played the game of war with more sportsmanship than the Maoris. On the body of one Maori general, killed in battle, was found the order of the day, which began with a prayer and ended with the biblical text: “If thine enemy hunger, feed him: if he thirst, give him drink.”1 There are many incidents which show that the Maoris practiced what they preached.
When the Waikato tribe heard that the army of General Cameron was in a starving condition, they loaded a number of canoes with potatoes, goats, and milk, and sent them up the river to feed their enemies.1
And of what fighting material they were made! In 1863, some 300 Maoris were shut up in intrenchments at a place called Orakau. Without water, pounded at by the English artillery, and under a hail of rifle bullets and hand grenades—unsuccessfully assaulted no less than five times—they held out for three days, though completely surrounded. The English general sent a flag of truce, inviting them to surrender honorably. To this they made the ever famous reply, “Enough! We fight on, forever, forever, forever!” Then the general offered to let the women come out, and the answer was: “The women will fight as well as we.” At length, on the afternoon of the third day, the Maori garrison, assembling in a body, charged right through the English lines, fairly jumping over the heads, of their enemies, as they lay behind a bank. So unexpected and amazing was their charge that they would have gotten away with but slight loss had they not, when outside the lines, been headed off and confronted by a force of colonial rangers and cavalry. Half of them fell; the remainder, including the celebrated war chief Rewi, got clear away.1
After their conversion to Christianity the Maoris would not fight on Sunday and were more than surprised to find that the English, though professing to be Christians, paid no respect to the Sabbath.1
1The Story of New Zealand, Parsons, pp. 64-66.
About the year 1375, the Maoris, a savage people from the Polynesian or Hawaiian Islands, arrived in New Zealand in their double canoes.
New Zealand was first seen by a European in 1642, when Tasman, a Dutch navigator, anchored in a northern bay of Middle Island, appropriately named by him Massacre Bay, because of the murdering of some of his crew. Captain James Cook took possession in the name of George III, in 1769, finding the Maoris still in the Stone Age. The law of “indiscriminate retaliation” prevailed among the Maoris and they cared little from which foreigners, or when, they exacted revenge for any ill treatment. The first European residents in New Zealand were Protestant missionaries led by Samuel Marsden, who, in November, 1814, settled at the Bay of Islands, on the northeast coast of North Island. A Roman Catholic mission, under Bishop Pompallier, was established in the same vicinity in 1838. It was not, however, until 1839 that colonizing on a systematic basis began. King William IV addressed the New Zealanders as an independent people in 1833 and recognized their national flag the following year. This was all forgotten in February, 1840, when the Maoris relinquished their independence by the Treaty of Waitangi and became subjects of Great Britain. The submission of the Maoris was due largely to the influence of Chief Tamati Waka Nene, who explained to his countrymen that the shadow of the land would go to Queen Victoria but that the substance would remain with them. British sovereignty was proclaimed on May 21, 1840.
The seat of government was first at Kororareka (or Russell) on the Bay of Islands, but in September, 1840, it was moved to Auckland. On May 3, 1841, New Zealand was proclaimed independent of New South Wales.
Hongi Hika, a scion of the illustrious Ngapuhui nation, and Waikako—two great New Zealand Maori chiefs—visited England in 1820 and learned how to use firearms. Upon the return of Hongi to the Bay of Islands his first act was to arm his followers and levy war upon the natives in the central part of North Island. The fruits of his campaign were 2,000 dead natives. Hongi had read a great deal about Napoleon and imitated that famous leader. His luckless enemies, armed only with spears, tomahawks, and clubs, were killed, enslaved, and eaten by battalion. Tupai Cupa (or Te Pehi), being defeated by Hongi, went to England about 1826 to secure firearms in order that he might meet his enemy with better chance of success. The English authorities refused him the munitions of war and sent him back to New Zealand at state expense with agricultural implements and domestic animals. Between 1824 and 1840 the Maoris went mad over "preparation for war,” as attested by the acquisition of firearms and ammunition. The result was inevitable—approximately 20,000 Maoris were bumped off in the tribal wars. In this period about one quarter of the population perished. When Hongi passed on to his fathers, his son-in-law, Honi Heke, as we shall see, carried on with the same martial zest.
Ill feeling between the natives and foreigners continued to increase until, in June, 1843, the Wairau massacre precipitated the Honi Heke War. Honi Heke had been educated at a mission school. He was a brilliant leader of men and, judged from a Maori viewpoint, an ardent patriot. The tribes loyal to England were led by Tamati Waka Nene. A bickering in July, 1844, on account of a woman in Heke’s tribe who had married an European named Lord, precipitated this war, but the actual cause was the desire of Heke to wage war on the British, brought about by the inefficient administration of affairs by the then governor and the “Land Sharks.” In July, 1844, Honi Heke cut down the flagstaff at Kororareka and repeated the act on January 10, 1845. After deciding to attack Kororareka in March, 1845, Honi Heke’s first act was to cut down and burn the Kororareka flagstaff for the third time. He was soon joined by Kawati, another renowned chieftain.
The Bay of Islands was, at this time, a great port for American whalers, “there being not less than seventy or eighty of our whalers touching and refitting annually.”2 Probably “no other port or harbor in the world competed, in its importance to the American whaling interests, with the Bay of Islands.”2
While this pot of hell broth was stewing, the U.S.S. St. Louis, Captain Isaac McKeever,3 anchored off the town on March 3, after an eight-day cruise from Sydney.2 The St. Louis had sailed from Hampton Roads on May 23, 1843, and had visited many countries, including China, where, in 1844, her bluejackets and marines had landed at Canton to protect American property and lives. Then, after visiting Chusan and Ningpo, she sailed for Australia and New Zealand.4 Her guard of twenty-one marines was in charge of Orderly Sergeant Thomas Hurst.
Upon his arrival at the Bay of Islands, Captain McKeever, as he reported to Secretary of the Navy John Y. Mason,5 on March 13, 1845, “found the Island in a state of great commotion from a threatened attack upon the British authorities by the Natives,”6 and that the arrival of the St. Louis was very opportune, “the force of the European population being entirely inadequate to the protection of their wives, children and property.”6 The absence of an American consul at the Bay of Islands had brought about awkward results for “a few days before his arrival the English Governor had required the acting Consul to haul down the American flag.”6
“Pursuing a course of non-interference, excepting where humanity should dictate” him to act, he “nevertheless, by obtaining interviews with the Native chiefs,” exacted “from them a pledge of safety to the innocent women and children of the Europeans.”6
2Captain McKeever’s Report to Secretary Mason, March 13, 1845.
3 Captain McKeever, although born in Pennsylvania and a citizen of that state, was appointed a midshipman in the Navy from Louisiana, on February 1, 1809; promoted lieutenant, December 9, 1814; commander, May 27, 1830; captain on December 8, 1838, and died on April 1, 1856.
4Naval Institute, December, 1910, p. 1096.
5Relieved as Secretary by George Bancroft on March 11, 1845.
6“Captain’s Letters” filed in Navy Library, Washington, D. C.
By March 7, foreign refugees and their property started to come on the St. Louis, and Captain McKeever’s ship acted as a general asylum from that date until he sailed for the United States in April.7
Early in March it was known that Honi Heke’s troops were in the neighborhood of Kororareka, and on the ninth of that month the followers and allies of Honi Heke and Kawati were estimated to be from six hundred to seven hundred. On this date they gave the first indication of hostilities by firing on an armed boat of the British that was pursuing plunderers. On the same day, while reconnoitering, Lieutenant Philpot (commanding H.B.M.S. Hazard) and Midshipman Parrott were surprised by a large band of Maoris who detained them for about ten minutes, but, by order of Honi Heke, liberated them on finding that they had no followers.8
Lieutenant Philpot, on the ninth, reported to Governor Fitz Roy “the noble conduct of the natives in sending, under protection of a white flag, from the First Block House, the wife and child of John Tapper, signalman at the Flagstaff, who was wounded whilst bravely working one of the guns.”8 These two incidents illustrate the altruistic tendencies of the Maoris and the ideal ethical code that governed them in battle.
One Sunday about this time a missionary preached in the native camp from the text in James, “Whence come wars and fighting.” At the conclusion of the service, Honi Heke recommended the priest to go and deliver the same sermon in the English camp, as it was more applicable there than in his camp; and as a proof of his wishes for peace, he informed the missionary that he had released Lieutenant Philpot uninjured.9
7Log of St. Louis.
8Rusden’s History of New Zealand.
9Thomson’s New Zealand, Vol. II, pp. 102-103; Rusden’s History of New Zealand.
Then came March 11, the day on which Honi Heke secured his “place in the sun.” Before daylight several bands of about two hundred Maoris each, made a general attack upon Kororareka. The key of the town was the Flagstaff Block House, situated on an eminence overlooking that village. Honi Heke’s strategy was perfect. Waiting until the attack on the town drew off a considerable number of the Flagstaff Block House garrison to reinforce the defenders of the town, he dashed forward with a chosen band and, while most of the Block House guard were away, secured possession of that position before its officer knew of his presence.
The attack on Kororareka was repulsed, but the loss of the Flagstaff Block House and the blowing up of their ammunition magazine eventually caused the British to retreat aboard their vessels about noon on the eleventh.10
Captain McKeever maintained strict neutrality during this battle. However, he and his officers, bluejackets and marines voluntarily placed themselves in as great danger as the combatants themselves when they went ashore in unarmed boats and, under the musketry of the Maoris, extricated the European women and children from the battle ground and carried them back to their vessel. Captain McKeever sent his surgeons to the assistance of the Hazard’s wounded. They remained on that vessel until the twelfth.11
In a letter dated March 17, Lieutenant George Philpot, in command of “Her Majesty’s Ship Hazard,” thanked Captain McKeever for the assistance he had rendered the English “in taking off the sick and wounded from the beach at Russell (or Kororareka) on the eleventh instant, whilst exposed to a heavy fire from the Mawries (sic), and also for the general attention” he had evinced toward them.12 The letter continued:
At the time I applied to you for aid, I was under the impression that you had promised to land 150 men, should we be hard pressed. That impression was formed merely from what I had casually heard in the stockade and on the beach. Had I time to weigh the matter maturely I should have perceived the impossibility of your acceding to my solicitation, as it was clearly contrary to the principles of international law.12
Governor Fitz Roy reported that Captain McKeever “could not interfere hostilely, but he sent his unarmed boats and went himself under frequent fire to succor the women and children and convey them safely to his frigate.”
10Log of St. Louis.
11Log of St. Louis.
12Published in the National Intelligencer, July 30, 1843.
Parsons, in his Story of New Zealand, wrote that “Anglo Saxon brotherhood counted for something, even in 1845,” for an “American ship in the Bay sent boats through the fire to save the women and children from the Maoris.”
J. B. Pompallier, “Bishop, etc. of the Western Ocean” (Catholic Bishop of New Zealand), on March 13, wrote a letter to Captain McKeever in which he stated that the St. Louis had arrived “at the very moment when the hostilities, which had been for some time brewing among the natives and the English, arising out of their political differences, were about to burst forth.” The Bishop found “cause to bless Divine Providence” that his establishment had been spared; “that the natives, in their victory,” had “not followed their ancient custom of massacring every enemy that fell into their hands,” and that the “property of Americans in the country” had been respected. He praised Captain McKeever for the “pacific counsels” which he had given to the natives and stated that “the presence of the St. Louis here at this distressing moment—your prudence in discerning the duties of Humanity, abstracted from all feelings of nationality—the prudent, firm, and benevolent counsels which "have emanated from you, have no doubt contributed not a little” in “causing the Natives to practice a moderation foreign to their ancient customs.” 13
During this battle fifteen British were killed in action or died from wounds and twenty were wounded, while about seventy Maoris were killed and wounded.
In his report of the thirteenth, Captain McKeever expressed the fear that one of the results of the rebellion would be “the extermination of the New Zealanders by the English.”14
On March 13 “the natives attacked and burned a portion of the town of Kororareka.”15 This brought about a panic among the Europeans ashore and many were received on board the St. Louis. The log of that vessel for the forenoon watch stated there had been “received a number of distressed persons on board—inhabitants of Kororareka, as passengers to Auckland,” that the “Natives are employed in burning the remains of the town of Kororareka,” and that the English whaler Matilda and H.B.M.S. Hazard got under way and commenced beating out of the harbor.” Gisborne, in his New Zealand, writes that all the Europeans fled and that even the soldiers boarded the Hazard and sailed for Auckland “to the intense astonishment of the Natives.” The town was ransacked and burnt, with the exception of the Roman Catholic Mission and some American warehouses. What “rubbing noses”—the Maori kiss—there must have been in Honi Heke’s army.
13Published in National Intelligencer, July 30, 1845.
14Captains’ Letters” filed in Navy Library.
15Log of St. Louis.
The St. Louis sailed from the Bay of Islands on March 14 with “27 Cabin and 15 Ward Room passengers” and ninety-one other passengers—a total of 133 children, women and men.15 She arrived at Auckland in company with the Hazard on the sixteenth. At 11:00 a.m. the following day, Governor Fitz Roy, with his suite, visited the St. Louis and was saluted with fifteen guns on his departure.15
On March 17, Governor Robert Fitz Roy addressed a letter16 to Captain McKeever
Expressing the grateful thanks of the settlers in this Colony, and of the local Government, for the humane, efficient, and ample assistance so promptly given by the United States frigate St. Louis, under your command, and by yourself personally, to the women and children at Russell, (or Kororareka,) in the Bay of Islands, who were embarked by your unarmed boats on the 11th of this month. These and other distressed settlers, to the number of about one hundred and fifty, found shelter and the kindest treatment on board your ship, and were immediately brought, at much inconvenience, to Auckland. I understand that it is your intention to return immediately to the Bay of Islands; and it is very satisfactory to me to reflect that, while your ship is there, the missionaries and their families, who have remained at their stations, will have friends and, if it need be, a refuge within their reach, until adequate protection can be given.
The St. Louis sailed from Auckland on March 19 with several passengers including “two New Zealand Chiefs” and arrived at Paihia (across the Bay of Islands from Kororareka) on the following day.17 Captain McKeever reported that he had returned “to afford protection to American property at the Wahapo, as well as to the remaining inhabitants of the Bay, until they should procure some means of leaving it.”16 He also obtained “another interview with hostile chiefs, and induced them to renew their promise of protection to the American property.”18 They had religiously kept their original promise but Captain McKeever felt that since the “New Zealanders” had tasted the “sweets of booty,” all property was in jeopardy and a renewal of their pledge would do no harm.18 H.B.M.S. North Star assisted in this work. Pleasant relations existed between the officers and crews of the American and British warships. On March 31 the North Star “shifted her berth nearer to the St. Louis.”19
On April 3, the officers and crew of the St. Louis “cheered H.B.M.S. North Star with three cheers which were returned. At 8:30 a.m. the North Star fired a salute of nine guns with the American flag at the fore, which was returned by this ship with the same number.”19 By this time the American interests were safe and on April 4 the St. Louis hoisted the “homeward bound pennant,” and sailed for America. Captain McKeever had intended to join the Brandywine at the Society Islands and return to the United States in her company but the second trip to the Bay of Islands interfered with his plans and he sailed direct for Valparaiso.20 The St. Louis arrived at Valparaiso on May 17, where she fell in with the Brandywine. Arriving at Rio Janeiro she sailed from that port on August 9, 1845, and in thirty days anchored at Hampton Roads.
Up to the end of Governor Fitz Roy’s administration in October, 1845, the campaign against the Maoris was conducted with loss and disaster to the British forces. The natives were unable to contend with disciplined troops in the open, but within their fortified pahs (villages) in the fastnesses of the forest they were able to resist assaults with much loss to besiegers. Captain George Grey relieved Fitz Roy, and he soon brought order out of chaos. He not only conquered the Maoris but won their admiration and love.21
Honi Heke died, a Christian, from consumption, aged forty-two, on August 6, 1830, kindly attended by his wife, daughter of Hongi.
16Published in National Intelligencer, July 30, 1845.
17Log of St. Louis.
18Published in National Intelligencer, July 30, 1845.
19Log of St. Louis.
20Report of Captain McKeever to Secretary, March 13, 1845, filed in Navy Library.
21Gisborne’s New Zealand..
Fourteen years after the courageous work of Captain McKeever and his officers, bluejackets, and marines, Captain Josiah Tattnall, in China, sprang to the assistance of the English with the exclamation “Blood is thicker than water!”22 Brave Tattnall, a hero of the American Navy and also of the Confederate Navy,23 in whose memory a U. S. destroyer has been named,24 is known to us all because of his words as well as his deeds; but McKeever, acting neutrally excepting where “humanity should dictate,” yet "carrying on,” in “unarmed boats” under fire in saving innocent women and children, is an “Unknown” in naval history.
22Foster, in his American Diplomacy in the Orient, p. 248.
23Hamersly’s General Register, p. 699.
24General Order No. 382, March 28, 1918.