Te Puea Herangi pictured in the early 1900s was known as a princess. Photo / William A Price
She was labelled the Princess of Mercer by authorities.
Te Puea Herangi, a cousin of the Māori King Te Rata Mahuta, was staunchly opposed to Māori enlisting in the World War I and led the Waikato opposition to conscription.
Iwi such as Tainui (Waikato) and Taranaki still bore resentment to the Crown as just half a century earlier the British had branded their tipuna (grandparents) rebels, invaded their territory, killed relatives, and confiscated hundreds of thousands of acres of their land.
Compulsory military service for World War I was extended to Māori in 1917 and by May 2018, the first 200 men from the Waikato-Maniapoto district were called up, their names published in the New Zealand Gazette.
More than 2200 Māori would serve - from a population of 50,000 - and more than 330 died.
Read more: Herald Trailblazer: Te Puea Herangi
As Monty Soutar writes in his book Whitiki! Whiti! Whiti! E! Māori in the first World War,
members of the kahui ariki (royal family) were drawn in and with the King taken ill, Herangi, aged 34, was thrust into a leadership role.
Extracts below detail how men took refuge at Te Paina, a pā Herangi had rebuilt at Mangatāwhiri, and shows the lengths Colonel George Warren Shaw Patterson, the commander of the Auckland Military District, went to in an attempt to have her arrested.
TThe Defence Department's intention was to snare men who might leave town after reading their names in the Gazette, thereby avoiding notification by post.
Some of the Māori reservists were equally cunning, however. Many letters were returned unopened, with postmasters reporting that several notices for the same man had been rejected.
The Director of Recruiting reported that young men who used several names found it relatively easy "to disclaim identity with the man drawn in the Ballot and it was particularly difficult for the Department to prove that his disclaimer was not genuine".
Others, including Tae Tapara and some Ngati Maniapoto men who had been hiding in the limestone hills behind Marokopa, went to Te Paina to take refuge with Te Puea.
The pā managed to feed and house large numbers over this period thanks to the grim determination of Te Puea and her followers.
"We were most unpopular everywhere," she later said, as reported in Michael King's 1977 biography Te Puea. "And we were very poor. The people … looked to me … With others I cut flax and took it to the mill. With the money we got bags of flour and sugar. This is how we fed the people."
With little else to inspire them in their time of need, Te Puea turned to karakia (prayer). One evening, after dinner, she summoned everyone to the hall to discuss tactics and asked for a volunteer to begin the karakia.
Her future husband Rawiri Tumokai Katipa, then aged 16, remembered (as reported in her biography) that at first no one responded.
"All the Christian churches had deserted us … because they… didn't want to get caught with us or go to prison with us."
For Māori, one of the attractions of any new faith was a promise of miracle cures. Te Puea acquired a reputation for being able to heal sicknesses "of a Māori kind". This, along with the fact that Pai Marire was oriented to tikanga Māori, contributed to the revival of the faith in Waikato. Pai Marire also provided a religious justification for resistance.
"They made us unshakeable," said Tainui master carver Piri Poutapu is reported as saying in Te Puea's biography. "Those prayers incorporated Māori things that the Pākehā churches had no place for, appeals to spirits and forces they didn't know about, ways to make sick people well again. Every time we said them we knew our ancestors were right there with us and we were all right."'
The Kīngitanga (the King movement) was now governed by moral and spiritual forces and would meet violence with non-violence, as Te Whiti-o-Rongomai and Tohu Kākahi had during the invasion of Parihaka in 1881.
More than 500 people attended a meeting at Waahi on 26 May to discuss the medical board which was to convene at Huntly the following day. They resolved to maintain their position and encouraged the young men whose names had been balloted to ignore the board; "let the Pākehā fight his own battle".
Only five of the 33 reservists summoned from places along the Waikato River between Rangiriri and Taupiri paraded next day. Employees of Pukemiro Collieries, these men were exempt from military service because coalmining was an essential industry.
The Hauraki subtribes had objected to being included in the ballot and petitioned the Defence Minister. They had been loyal since 1850, they said, and the fighting in Waikato in 1863 had not extended to Hauraki. The petitioners also reminded Acting Prime Minister Sir James Allen that the elders had agreed when first asked for volunteers; to date, 57 of their young men had enlisted. While the Defence Minister sympathised with Hauraki, he told them that their men, like those of Ngati Maniapoto, had to follow the appeal process. It would be up to the Native Military Service Board to decide whether any balloted reservist would be exempted.
Only 59 of the 200 men called for examination reported to the medical board, and more than half of them were found to be unfit for service. It was now up to the police to find the defaulters. One of the balloted men who had failed to appear before the medical board was King Te Rata's youngest brother, 16-year-old Te Rauangaanga Mahuta.
Captain Bellamy, who commanded No. 4 Area Group of the Auckland Military District, instructed his staff to pay particular attention to Te Rauangaanga.
He was required to attend the board unless he could produce proof that he was under-age. When no reply to a telegram to Te Rauangaanga was received, Bellamy instructed the police at Hamilton to arrest him.
To place more pressure on the kahui ariki, Bellamy also charged Tonga Mahuta (another of the King's brothers) with failing to attend the annual camp of his Territorial unit. The poor turnout of reservists before the medical board was put down to "the weak manner in which the Government handled the case of [Tonga] Mahuta".
Tonga did not appear in court and was fined a further £5 (about $600 in today's terms) and court costs. In an attempt to discredit the young chief, the local constable told the judge that "he was playing billiards at Huntly instead of attending to his wife who was ill".
Almost a week passed before police reconnaissance determined that Te Rauangaanga and other defaulters from the Huntly area were almost certainly attending a "big meeting" at Te Paina. The warrants had to be reissued, as Mercer was in the Auckland police district. They were thought to be waiting to be taken to gaol and expected to resist only passively.
However, the Mercer constable was not comfortable about going to the pā alone to serve the warrants. Bellamy arranged for them to be issued after the weekend, allowing time to bring in more police.
On Wednesday, June 11, eight policemen chosen for their tactfulness and led by Pukekohe's Sergeant James Cowan rendezvoused at Mercer. Sergeant Frederick Waterman, the township's former policeman who was now stationed at Ponsonby, was one of the party, probably because of his knowledge of Māori custom. At 2pm, they boarded two police motor wagons and drove to Te Paina, where they found about 400 people gathered.
They were evidently expected, as young women played brass instruments as they passed through the gate. The police were escorted into the crowded hall and sat on a form reserved for them. Te Puea invited Waterman to state the purpose of their visit.
"We have come to apprehend the men whose names have appeared in the papers as having been balloted. We look to you, Te Puea, to help us to identify the men whose names I will read from this list. Although I would like it better if the men themselves would come forward as I read out their names."
Rising to her feet, Te Puea greeted those present and their guests in the traditional manner. Then she responded to Waterman. "These people are mine … I will not agree to my children going to shed blood. Though your words be strong, you will not move me to help you … You can fight your own fight until the end."
When the names were read, there was no response. After waiting for a minute or two, Waterman and two constables moved to arrest Te Rauangaanga. The young rangatira was seated in the place of honour at the head of the room, surrounded by young women, three of whom spread a flag in front of him as if for protection. When Te Raungaanga did not come forward, the constables stepped over the flag and picked him up.
A "great sigh went through the meeting" as they carried him out of the whare.
Te Puea's parting words to her young cousin eased the tension. "Be patient. Let the spirit of your father and also the spirit of your ancestors be with you. God bless you."
A sister-in-law of the King, Te Uira Te Heuheu said later that "if Te Puea had but raised her little finger there would have been bloodshed."
Instead, she walked up and down in front of the rows of sitting people with a switch in her hand, murmuring that they must remain calm and quiet.
The policemen waded into the audience, arresting those whose names had been called. As Te Puea's biography recalled; "They made several mistakes as a result of incorrect identification and inaccurate information … Rawiri Katipa … was mistaken for his elder brother. Another arrested was a 60-year-old grandfather named Anu."
In the end, only six men were taken out with Te Rauangaanga: Tame Wiremu, Kore Maiti, Hugh McKinnon and Teira Paora (all probably under-age), and 25-year-olds Moke (Rupene) Taua and Riki Karaka. All had to be carried.
When this operation was finished, Te Puea addressed the policemen again. "Return to your Government and tell them what I have said. I am not afraid of the law or anything else excepting the God of my ancestors … I will not allow any violence or blood to flow through my fingers … Go in peace."
Those present considered that making the authorities carry the young men from the pā was sufficient protest to satisfy Māori honour. The occasion was memorialised in a song, Nga Ra o Hune.
The seven men were driven to the railway station and with their police escort boarded a train for Auckland, where military police took charge of them.
It was hoped that after mixing with the recruits already in training, the conscripts would "see the folly of their ways and … submit themselves for medical examination and attestation".
Meanwhile, Tonga Mahuta was among 226 First Division men drawn in the second ballot on June 10 and notified in the Gazette of June 25. More than 400 men had now been called up and police were scouring the countryside for the many defaulters.
They returned to Mangatawhiri on June 13 and 15, arresting one man on the first visit and six on the second. This time the arrival of the eight policemen was signalled to the inhabitants of the pā by haka. Women impeded the police by clinging to the arms of their menfolk, who refused to walk to the vehicles. One very large defaulter simply lay down on the ground.
"Of course no one would help them," Te Puea said later. "We had to laugh, despite our tears."
Both Colonel Patterson and the Defence Department were well aware that the chief source of this mischief is the so-called "Princess Puea of Mercer" — a title Te Puea never liked that was often used by Pākehā during this period. Patterson wanted her prosecuted under the Military Service Act in the hope that this would break down the resistance at Narrow Neck.
He tried to convince Auckland's senior policeman, Inspector Nicholas Kiely, that the police should goad her into speaking out against conscription. Patterson suggested issuing warrants for other defaulters living at Mercer and then using Māori constables to help procure the necessary evidence during the arrests. He felt sure Te Puea would "repeat her former tactics and statements".
Patterson also suggested seeking the opinion of Waiuku man Henry Flavell on the best strategy to adopt. "Mr Flavell, who is a half-caste, is a member of the Waikato tribe but is strongly opposed to Princess Puea's tactics. Before he is approached, however, it would be well for you to ascertain whether he is 'safe'."
Kiely was reluctant to take this action because he doubted that a prosecution of Te Puea would result, and Pomare - MP for Western Maori - and the Solicitor-General agreed.
The Director of Personal Services, Osborne-Lilly, suggested more practical ways to obtain evidence about the statements Te Puea was making, including in open letters to detained defaulters. But in taking any legal action against her, he warned, they must be confident of obtaining a conviction. Failure to do so would "only result in further raising the woman's prestige".
Meanwhile, the press had identified "the Princess" as the leader of the anti-conscriptionist Waikato movement. Newspapers publicised rumours that because her grandfather had had a German surname — Searancke —Te Puea must be a German sympathiser. She retorted, "What if I am German? So is the British Royal Family … I am neither pro-German nor anti-British. I am simply pro-Māori."
Colonel Patterson would not live to see any useful results from his witch-hunt. He died suddenly in January 1919, aged 58. Te Puea was never charged with sedition.
Whitiki! Whiti! Whiti! E! Māori in the first World War
Out June 5
RRP: $69.99
Published by Bateman Books
The woman was shaken by the incident.