‘You can realise,’ Sir George drew the inference, ’how easy it was for me to get on with so chivalrous a race as the Maoris!’ He and they had arrived at a mutual comprehension of each other.  They recognised his parts, the manner in which he could make himself felt where least expected, the difficulty of beating him in expedients, his desire to advance their interests and happiness, his tender care for them as a father, after he had ridden as the Caesar.  Towards the full understanding, his bout with Rauparaha and Rangihaeta was, perhaps, an assistance.

‘The name Rauparaha,’ he narrated, ’means in Maori a cabbage leaf; a wild cabbage leaf.  The tradition was that Rauparaha’s father was killed and eaten by some rival chief.  While eating him, the other chief mumbled with inward satisfaction, “This man eats like a young cabbage.”  The son, being told, vowed revenge, and took the name Rauparaha to emphasise the fact.  It was insulting, he felt, to laugh over the eating of his father.’

Sir George’s pledge for peace was the opening up of the country by means of roads, and he drove these hither and thither.  The power of resistance which the Maoris manifested in warfare, kept anxiety simmering at Downing Street.  ‘In that connection,’ Sir George said, ’Earl Grey, as Colonial Secretary, consulted the Duke of Wellington on the best policy for securing the durable settlement of the Maoris.  The Duke, I learned from Earl Grey himself, advised the making of roads which would knit New Zealand, and employ the natives.  Just after Earl Grey had seen the Duke, he had despatches from me, in which I outlined, in almost as many words, what I had been doing.’

The coincidence struck Sir George, and it gratified him to have the Duke in agreement.  He was supported by another eminent soldier, when, at a London dinner party, being asked to give his opinion of the conduct of the Crimean War, he answered, ’I should have attacked upon the St. Petersburg side, where you could really get at Russia, instead of on the Crimean side, with its strong forts, its distance from the centre of the empire, and a food supply confined to that carried by the ships.’

In New Zealand he had no difficulty in getting Maori labour, since it was fairly paid, and excellent trunk roads were the result.  Rauparaha took the innovation with a seeming unconcern, meant to hide an adverse feeling, which Rangihaeta, however, frankly expressed.  He could look back upon his years, old Rauparaha, and mark in them enough stir and fight to satisfy a score of warriors.  Age had crawled on to his shoulders, causing his furtive eyes to rest on the ground.  But he was still himself, as Sir George Grey realised, on receiving certain information.  It indicated that Rauparaha was in a league of mischief, that he had quietly given a signal, and that large bodies of natives were drawing down the coast to his aid.  Farther, it was put to Sir George that an attack on Wellington was the evident object.  This would be calamity, for the forces available as a defence, at short notice, were small.  Now for the Governor’s action, which some criticised as high-handed.