Although Anglican Church Missionary Society (CMS) missionaries arrived in New Zealand in 1814, they had little success until the latter half of the 1820s. From the missionary side, this may be put down to their increased economic independence from their Bay of Islands hosts, better leadership, better linguists amongst their ranks, and a shift in policy from promoting ‘civilisation’ first to a greater emphasis on conversion. Māori, who had tended to use the missionaries as conduits for European goods, were also seeking new ways in which to gain knowledge of, and engage with, the outside world. We can perhaps discount Kendall’s baptism of Maria Ringa in 1823 so she could marry Philip Tapsell (see chapter 8) – she ran off after a day – but the mission claimed its first genuine believer, a deathbed conversion, in 1825.1 Wesleyan missionaries arrived in 1822, with French Catholic priests following in 1838. What began as a trickle of conversions soon became a flood as Māori sought out the new spiritual knowledge of the Pākehā.
It is surprising that there are relatively few surviving accounts from Māori women on religious matters. Literacy and religious texts were of especial importance to the spread of missionary Christianity, and Māori came to prize scriptural knowledge, which was included as part of the intellectual armory employed by chiefs in formal speeches. This lacuna, at least in governmental archives, may be partly due to New Zealand’s lack of an ‘official’ religion. Although a few officials may have had evangelical impulses, the government was less concerned about what Māori believed than how their religious practices might impact on general peace and the processes of colonisation. This is not to say that women may not have written about their religious beliefs and experiences, but that their writing may now be lost, held privately, or waiting for future discovery.
Reverend William Yate joined the CMS Mission in 1828 just as Northland Māori were becoming enthusiastic for the missionary faith. Yate is perhaps best known for sexual scandal: when returning from a visit to England in 1836, allegations arose of a relationship with the third mate of the ship he was travelling in, and his fellow missionaries also gathered testimony from young Māori men detailing his involvement in homosexual activity. Yate did not get back to New Zealand, returning to England from Sydney after an unsuccessful attempt to rescue his reputation.2
On his initial return to England, before scandal erupted, Yate published a book, An Account of New Zealand, on CMS activities, in which he included a number of letters from Māori in which they attested to their Christian faith. Letter writing was a practice that he actively encouraged.
In order both to cultivate, and to draw out, the feelings of those among whom I was labouring, it appeared to be one very useful plan to induce them to commit their ideas to writing. In pursuance of this method, the Christian Natives, and those desirous of becoming Christians, have at different times, during the last four or five years, addressed Letters to me; which have accumulated at length to a somewhat bulky mass of correspondence.3
From this ‘bulky mass’, Yate selected those which best suited his purposes, including some from women. In ‘reading’ the letters we need to be aware of Yate’s motivations. Although a religious man, he was of fairly humble origins, and his book gave him a short period of relative fame in polite society while he was in London.4 His fellow missionaries were less impressed. Quite apart from his alleged sexual transgressions, they believed the book to be inaccurate, and ‘resented what they considered to be an assertion of self throughout the volume’.5
Although Yate acknowledges his encouragement of Māori writing, he does not explain his methods. The letters are in English, so are almost certainly translations. Yate states that they ‘addressed Letters to me’, something he may have encouraged. He does not indicate if the authors wrote their own letters, or dictated them to him or another person, or whether he assisted them in crafting their words. Whatever his degree of input, it is clear it is Yate’s message being projected. As Judith Binney notes, ‘Yate’s relationship with his pupils was one charged with emotionalism, but an emotionalism derived from religious preoccupation. It is clear that the primary basis of his teaching was to awaken the neophytes to the omnipotence of sin.’6 This can be seen in the letter of Wāhanga, a ‘married native [man] living in Mr. Kemp’s family’ who wrote, ‘Who can bear the pain of the fire which burns for ever? I want to make haste to Jesus Christ, that I may be saved from it.’
Wāhanga’s wife, Pāhuia, also wrote:
LETTER II. FROM PAHUIA, WIFE OF WAHANGA. Mr. Yate It is true, it is very true, that it is good to tell to Jehovah all that is in our heart, whether it is good, or whether it is evil. My desire is, that my soul may be saved in the Day of Judgment. It will not be long before Jesus Christ appears to judge mankind; and I also shall be judged. It is right that I should be judged, and that I should be condemned; for my heart is very wicked, and will not do one good thing not one, not one, not one, that Jesus Christ, and God, and the Holy Spirit say is good: if I am angered by them, it will be just. But will not the Son of God save me? You say he will; and I believe it. You say that, bad as it is, he will wash my soul in His blood, and make it good and clean. That is what I want. I want to be admitted into His Church, and to be made His Child, and to be taught His lessons out of His Book; and to be taken care of by Him, and to be done what with, done what with, done what with Thou, O Lord Jesus, say what! Mr. Yate, listen: this is all from me, from PAHUIA.7
Pāhuia’s letter states that she ‘want[s] to be admitted into His Church’, most likely indicating that she is yet to be baptised. The CMS missionaries applied stricter criteria in admitting Māori for baptism as full members of the church mission than their Wesleyan counterparts, and it was missionaries who decided whether individuals were sufficiently transformed.8 The following letter from another woman, Raru, recounts various sins that she has committed.
LETTER VIII. Mr. Yate If you are willing to permit me to enter the sacred Church of Christ by baptism, my heart is very desirous to be baptized. I altogether believe that Jesus Christ is the Son of God; and that he died for my sins, and for the sins of the world. Here I am: and have been, of old, a very wicked woman; but now my heart is sore on account thereof. I have been thinking of Jesus Christ’s love for me, though I am such a sinful woman; and that makes me sorrowful. It is my desire, for the future, to act as the Bible says, and to forsake all my sins, and to repent before God, for all I have done wrong; and to love Jesus Christ, because he loved me. These are my thoughts to you, Mr. Yate, from me, from Raru, who was so bad a woman as to be always quarrelling with her husband Paru, and teazing him; and who twice beat her mother for scolding her child; and who once stole things out of Mrs. Hamlin’s place for food. It is not a desire to have a new name, but because I love the Saviour, makes me wish to be baptized. This is all. RARU.9
Her words ‘It is not a desire to have a new name’ also point to the missionary practice of bestowing ‘Christian names’ upon their communicants. That she mentions it shows that possessing the new name had some novelty or cachet, and perhaps marked the owner out as more fashionable or sophisticated. The author of the following letter sports a Christian name, although she would have been known by a Māori version, such as ‘Hēra Wātikini’ or something similar.
LETTER XXVI. SARAH WATKINS WARU TO THE REV. W. YATE; FROM THE WAIMATE, NOV. 1834. To Mr. Yate Sir, Mr. Yate, how do you do you, who permitted us to enter the Church of Christ? This is the thing, Sir if, from our baptism, we walk uprightly before you, then the words of God will spring up within us: for you desire us to live as in the presence of God. But I am writing to you that you may hear my thoughts. If the grace of God should cause us, the evil, the deaf, the hard-hearted people, to hear and obey the callings of God, then all will be well; but we are more inclined to listen to evil than to good: perhaps this is the reason, perhaps it is not, that we have not in truth received the things of Jesus Christ. Ah, Sir, we are not yet jealous enough of the deceitfulness of our hearts, which are yet native and ignorant, and blind and deaf, and hard and covered over with sin; and the sinfulness of our hearts confuses all the words of everlasting life, which we hear with our ears, and read out of the Word of God. The thoughts of our native heart sometimes say, ‘By and bye listen: do not listen to-day: to-morrow will do for you to be thoughtful about the soul to-morrow, or by and bye.’ How is it to be? and how am I to be rid of this distracting native heart? Think you about it and do you say. Sir, Mr. Yate, listen to my speech. I am very well, as I am writing this book to you; but before you return here again, perhaps I shall be returned to dust, perhaps I shall not; for God has said, that every man who lives in this world must die; but he has not said when. Sir, Mr. Yate, listen to me, and I will tell you all about those who have died since you left New Zealand. Many who believe in Christ have died; and it is well that his believing people should go to Him, and not sit here for ever. Kape Kohine’s younger sister was one: Tuwakawaha’s daughter was another; the elder brother of Mere Hemara, Tangiwai; the wife of your boy Toa-taua, and Toa has been crying ever since she died; Kohine Rangi her name was Mere, for she was baptized, and she partook of the sacrament of the Lord’s Supper; and Mr. Henry Williams is come up from Paihia for the purpose; Mr. Clarke sent a messenger for him she died; and she died believing, and she is gone to heaven. Another also, as I am writing this book, is dying Koihuru, the wife of your good boy Henare; one at the village of Ngai-te-wiu, a believing woman; another, Pekapeka, the wife of Hako; all these are dead; and before you come back we shall be all swept away. Hurry back again altogether; hurry back again to this native land! Mr. Yate, how do you do? Waru and I are to go to the Lord’s Supper next week: pray for us, that God would cause us rightly to go. Mr. Yate, health to you, and to all your friends. I am well, and George; and Caroline and Cosmo are well: and I am thinking, that though, before you come back here, my body may die, my spirit will live, and it will live happy with God for ever. This is all my speech to you, Sir, mine, SARAH WATKINS WARU.10
Yate had already left New Zealand about five months earlier, and Hēra was fully expecting him to return. Her letter betrays either her own preoccupation with death and the danger of sin, or that this was a discourse expected by Yate. Several times she refers to her ‘native heart’, which is most likely a translation of the term ‘ngākau māori’. As in English, Māori emotions may emanate from bodily organs, but the term ‘māori’ in this context has a variety of meanings, including ‘freely’ or ‘without restraint’.11 Missionaries in the nineteenth century considered Christianity and civilisation as curbs to impulsive ‘savagery’. The ‘native heart’ might therefore refer to a propensity to excess or violence, to a lack of civilisation, or in the context of this text, to superstition and lingering pagan influence.12 It appears that Hēra was sincere in a desire for transformation, but she was also aware that this was appropriate language for missionaries and converts.
Untimely death was always a possibility in the nineteenth century, and Hēra’s letter refers to dead and dying people. Deathbed utterances were powerful concepts in both Māori and Pākehā cultures. Within Western culture, ‘[c]hildren were encouraged to think about death, their own deaths and the edifying or cautionary death-beds of others’,13 and the deathbed scene was a convention prevalent in Victorian fiction, and used as Christian propaganda.14 Some Christians also believed that ‘spiritual phenomena [were] exhibited while in the dying state’, and righteous Christian deaths were ‘the portable evidence of Christianity’.15 For missionaries and their supporters, deathbed utterances by Māori also vindicated the work of proselytising indigenous peoples, and they were seen as a genuine expression of conversion (with apostasy unlikely). For Māori, death is a particularly tapu state, and the ōhākī of a dying chief carried great weight.16 It is thus not surprising that some deathbed scenes involving Māori women appear in the archive. However, because the dying person was unlikely to be a position to record their own last words, such voices were generally relayed by third parties.
Yate’s Account presents an obituary to ‘a converted native’, Ann (Ani) Waiapu, in which her deathbed utterances are recorded. This was also published in the Missionary Register on October 1834, and an almost identical handwritten version sits in the Yate Correspondence in the Alexander Turnbull Library.17 Ani died in 1832. According to the obituary, Ani lived for many years with the Kemps, a missionary family, although she ‘clung to her native superstitions with a frightful eagerness’.18 She then married Waiapu, who was employed at the mission, and they had two children. After her husband’s conversion and taking on of the name of James (Hēmi) in 1830, Ani’s attitudes slowly changed. ‘The convictions of sin in the mind of his wife had been very gradual: it was only as she discovered the fallacy, one by one, of her native superstitious observances, that she gave them up, and embraced the doctrines of the Gospel.’19 Unfortunately she was afflicted with consumption, which led to an early death.
Naturally, Ani’s concerns are for her children. She instructs her husband, ‘James, do not keep my children from going to heaven. I think now I must die; but do not keep Sarah and William from going to heaven. Take them to church: never take my girl on board ship; but let them both go to God, the great and the good.’20 The reference to the ship concerns sexual relations with visiting sailors, an activity the missionaries termed as prostitution. The main focus, however, is her realisation of her impending death and her ascent to heaven.
‘Ah. Mrs. Kemp,’ said she, as that kind woman was smoothing her pillow, ‘alas! Mrs. Kemp, good bye. I am going to Jesus Christ, who loves me. I shall see him now. I have seen him with my heart; and now I love him with my heart. It is not my lips only that believe, but belief is firmly fixed within me.’21
Ani, at this time, had not been baptised. Perhaps, by virtue of her upbringing with the Kemps or her husband’s conversion, she was already known as ‘Ann’.22 But she had been a candidate for some time, and Yate was keen that she be christened before her death. To his explanation of the Sacrament she replied:
‘Yes, Jesus did indeed die upon the cross for me and but for Him, I should now die a native death, and go to a place of darkness and punishment.’ ‘Mr. Yate, do you tell me, Shall I be carried up to the House of Prayer on the next sacred day? and will you let me and James eat of the bread and drink of the cup, concerning which the Saviour said, “Do this in remembrance of me?”’ She then added, ‘What are we to remember?’ I replied, ‘That Christ loved us, and died for our sins.’ ‘Ah! I shall never forget that,’ was her quick reply. ‘But,’ I said, ‘Jesus sometimes, at his Supper, reveals Himself more clearly to his children; they see more of his love; he is set forth crucified among them; and when they see this, they love him more, and try to serve him better.’ ‘Then, James,’ was Ann’s expression, ‘get a litter ready, that I may be carried up to the House of God on Sunday; for I desire to try his love.’23
On the Sabbath she was brought to the service, where Yate ‘healed [her] of the worst malady that ever affected human beings the malady of sin’.24 The account is deliberately emotive, and the obituary includes Ani’s words for effect.
‘Jesus Christ is mine, Mr. Yate,’ she said, ‘and I am Jesus Christ’s. I know him now; I know him now: he is come here’ fixing her hand upon her heart ‘and he will not go away again any more.’ I asked her if she wished to return to the world, and be restored to health: ‘What!’ was her reply, ‘and Jesus Christ sometimes with me, and sometimes not; and I sometimes thinking evil, and sometimes thinking good! No, no, no! Mrs. Kemp will be a better mother to my babies than I shall be. I will go.’
…
She said much about her Husband, and Saviour and Friend in heaven: her last words were, ‘James, I am going. I am full of pain: I am going above, away from pain;’25
Yate was able to insert himself within the narrative, as her spiritual saviour upon earth: death ‘bare towards her no frowning countenance; he was no unwelcome guest. He arrived, and was acknowledged as a long-expected friend; a friend, who came to break the fetters that had bound her soul to earth’.26 But the text was also designed to appeal to English donors, who should know that their money had saved an unknown Māori woman from damnation. Unfortunately Ani’s infant son soon after succumbed to the same disease, but readers could be assured that: ‘[h]er surviving daughter is under the care of Mrs. Kemp; and will be brought up by her in that holy religion, whose ways, from the experience of the lamented mother, have been proved to be “pleasantness and peace.”’
For missionaries, as in the Ann Waiapu account, the woman’s voice was part of a wider discourse. A similar, although briefer, account can be found in a speech by the Wesleyan missionary, Reverend James Wallis of Whāingaroa. In 1845, Wesleyan missionaries and male Māori converts (through interpreters) spoke at a meeting in Auckland. Māori women may have been present, as Weretā, ‘a converted native, from the Taranaki (south) district’ included a reference in his greeting to ‘My Brethren and Sisters’, although there is no evidence that they spoke publicly. When Wallis addressed the crowd, he recounted another deathbed scene in support of a motion that although any success came from God, men should be active in spreading the word of God. His speech included a reference to ‘the wife of a chief of rank’ who ‘died under very encouraging circum stances’.27 The chief was identified as Wiremu Nēra Te Awaitaia (of Ngāti Māhanga) so the unnamed woman was probably Rōra Tūrori, a high-ranking woman of Ngāti Tūwharetoa.28
I asked her if she had any thing to communicate, or any final directions to give. She answered ‘No, excepting to thank you for all your kindnesses towards me.’ … Casting her arms upwards, she exclaimed – ‘Now I am going to the kingdom of Glory,’ and sinking into the attitude of death, without a struggle, she expired.29
While Yate’s account of Ann Waiapu was particularly directed at readers in England, Wallis’s retelling of Rōra’s words were aimed at the Māori and Pākehā listening at the meeting. Both women, however, were exemplars of righteous death, and their words employed to proclaim missionary success.
The accounts above show the dying Christian thinking of heaven on her deathbed; for Māori the ōhākī was an opportunity for a dying chief to proffer more temporal advice and instructions. In 1865 the Christchurch Press stated that it had ‘been requested to publish the following notice respecting the death of Priscilla Panepane, a Native woman of rank among the tribe residing at Kaiapoi’.30
Kaiapoi, 29 Mei, 1865.
E hoa ma, kia roko Koutou, kua mate a Pirihira Panepane, he wahine rakatira no roto i te hapu i a Tuahuriri, no roto i a Tuteahuka, no roto i a Maru. Na, e hoa ma, kia roko Koutou ki tana kupu poroporoki i penei i kona ra e koro ma, e kui ma, e tama ma, e hine ma, i kona ra ki te ao, kia atawhai hoki i te ao nei ki to tatou taoka nui ko te pakeha. Ka mutu tana poroporoki.
[newspaper translation]
Kaiapoi, May 29, 1865.
Let all our friends be informed that Priscilla Panepane is dead. She was a woman of rank of the family of Tuahuriri, which is related to Tuteahuka and descended from Maru. Hear, friends, her last words, which were these: – ‘Farewell all of you, ye mothers, ye brothers, ye sisters; I leave you in the world; be ye obliging towards our great source of riches, the white people.’ Thus ended her words.31
Pirihira’s death occurred during a period of tension and war, when it was not unusual for some ōhākī at this time to express loyalty to the Crown or friendship to Pākehā, or instruct the tribe to adhere to the law and Christianity.32 Ngāi Tahu never fought the Crown militarily; more sparsely populated than northern iwi, they were demographically swamped before the start of wars in Taranaki in 1860. Pirihira’s instruction to atawhai (be kind to) the Pākehā should be seen in the context of the tribe’s expressions of support for the Crown at a number of public meetings, including several at Kaiapoi.33 The sentiments she expressed were popular amongst Pākehā, and were reprinted in some other settler newspapers around the country (in several cases more than once).34
Other deathbed scenes recounted by Māori adhered to more Christian themes. In 1858 Hākopa Te Pātūtū, most likely of Te Āti Awa,35 wrote an account of the death of his wife Rāhira who was suffering from a throat disease.
Ka tata ia ki te mate, katahi ka puaki ake tona whakaaro, ki au ‘E pai ana au, e haere ana ki ta taua tamaiti. Kia rongo mai koe, ki te mate au e mate ana au mo te Ariki, ki te ora au e ora ana au mo te Ariki.’
[modern translation]
When she was close to death, then she revealed her thoughts to me, ‘I am fine, and going to our child. Listen to me, if I die, I am dying for the Lord. If I live, I am living for the Lord.’36
Another Māori account of a deathbed scene appeared in an article printed in the religious niupepa, Te Korimako, in 1887, although the text states that the death occurred in 1855. Hōhepa Parāone Hūkiki’s account described the death of his daughter, Hiraina Parāone, a pupil at Thomas Chapman’s mission school. Although not stated, Maketū was the likely location of the story, as the missionary Chapman lived at the Bay of Plenty settlement between 1851 and 1861.37 It starts with Hōhepa, his wife Pirihira and others beside Hiraina’s bed.
Na Pirihira tenei i ui iho. E Hine e pehea ana koe? Ka kii ake a Hiraina, e pouri ana ahau kia Te Hapimana raua ko Mata Hapimana, kia korua hoki, ki a korua tamariki hoki, ka kii ake ano ki au E Hepa, kia kaha te whiu i o tamariki i muri i au nei, kaua ratou e tukua kia tutu. Mehemea ka tutu ratou kia kaha te whiu, kia ahua pai, kei kite mai au, ka nui toku pouri. Muri iho, ka kii ake ano a Hiraina, kua tae atu toku aroha, kia Te Mete raua ko Mata Mete, ka ui iho ano a Pirihira. E Hine, e mohio ana koe ki te wahi e haere ai koe? Ka kii ake a Hiraina. E hara i au te whakaaro, na te Atua te whakaaro ki te mate ranei ki te ora ranei …
…
tikina a Ruihi Hauiti, he hoa tera nona i te oranga, he tino hoa, ka tae mai a Ruihi ka totoro atu te ringa, ka kii atu hei konei e Rui, ka haere au kia Miriama, kua mate tera, i mua tata i a ia.
[modern translation, quotation marks added]
Pirihira asked this, ‘Girl, how are you?’ Hiraina said ‘I am sad for Mr Chapman and Mother [Mrs] Chapman, for you and your children.’ She said to me ‘E Hepa [Hōhepa], make sure you chastise your children after I am gone, don’t let them be unruly. If they are, really chastise them, so they are good, lest I see it and become very sad.’
Afterwards, Hiraina also said ‘My love goes out to Mr Smith, and Mother Smith’ and Pirihira said ‘Girl, do you know the place you are going?’ Hiraina said ‘I don’t know, God knows about life and death …’
…
she said, ‘Fetch Ruihi Hauiti,’ she was a friend of hers during her life, a real friend. When Ruihi came she stretched out her hand and said ‘Farewell, Rui, I am going to Miriama.’ She had died, just before her.38
It appears that Hōhepa believed that Hiraina’s near-death state gave her insights that others lacked. Whether this derived from missionary teaching or Māori concepts of tapu (or both) is unclear.
Na ka ui iho ano ahau. Kia Hiraina Paraone. E Hine, ka pehea nga tangata katoa i te hokinga mai o te Karaiti, a muri ake nei. Na ka kii ake a Hiraina, ka puta mai ia a mua ka ara ake nga tangata katoa me o ratou tinana, a ka korerotia te ritenga o a ratou mahi, a ka haere te hunga i mahi i te pai ki te ora tonu, ko te hunga hoki i mahi i te kino ki te ahi ka tonu, ka mutu i konei te korero ake kia matou …
Then I questioned her, Hiraina Parāone, again, ‘Girl, how will the people be when Christ returns in the future?’ Hiraina said, ‘he will appear in the future, and all the people and their bodies will rise up, their actions will be judged and the people who did good will go to eternal life, those who did evil will go to the eternal fire,’ and she stopped speaking to us …39
Six days later it was clear her death was imminent. Hōhepa asked Hiraina:
E Hine, ko wai tau e tatari nei? Ka kii ake ia, ko Te Hapimana. Na ha haere a Aporo Naihi, ki te tiki i a Te Hapimana, a ka tae mai a Te Hapimana. Ko tona reo tuatahi tenei i patai iho ai. E Hiraina, e haere ana koe, ka kii ake, ae. Ka ui iho ano Te Hapimana, ko te patai tuarua. E Hiraina, e haere ana koe ki to Matua, ki runga ki te Rangi; ka mea a Hiraina. Ae. Ka ui iho ano a Te Hapimana, ko te patai tua toru. Ae. Haere i runga i te kaha o te Matua, o te Tamaiti, o te Wairua Tapu, ne? Ka mea ake ano. Ae.
‘Girl, who are you waiting for?’ She said, ‘Mr Chapman.’ So Āporo Naihi went to fetch Mr Chapman who came. This is what he said first, ‘Hiraina, you are going,’ she said ‘yes.’ Mr Chapman asked his second question, ‘Hiraina, you are going to your Father in heaven’ and Hiraina said ‘yes.’ Mr Chapman asked again, his third question, ‘Yes, go with the strength of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit, eh?’ She said again ‘Yes.’40
Hiraina died soon afterwards. The article does not give much detail about the individuals, or when and why it was written. Hōhepa may have written the account soon after the death. He expressed both his and his wife’s sadness at their daughter’s passing, and their joy that her soul would go to heaven, something he was convinced would happen. Te Korimako was edited by the evangelist philo-Māori Charles Davis and funded by American Baptist philanthropists, so Hōhepa’s account, with considerable religious content including scriptural quotations, fitted well with the overall kaupapa of the niupepa.
Sister Mary Joseph (Suzanne) Aubert is New Zealand’s most famous Catholic nun. Having been recruited by Bishop Pompallier in France, she arrived in Auckland in 1860, and in 1862 helped form the small congregation of the Holy Congregation. This order took over a boarding school for Māori girls, the Nazareth Institute at Mount St Mary’s near Freemans Bay.41 Peata, the first Māori nun, also taught at the school. Formerly known as Hoki, Peata was a daughter of the Ngāpuhi chief Rewa, and was one of Pompallier’s earliest converts. She entered Catholic folklore as having faced off a Māori war party at the Catholic mission at the sack of Kororāreka in 1845,42 and remained a staunch adherent of the church until her death. On 24 June 1867, Pompallier celebrated the feast of the nativity of St John the Baptist at the Auckland Cathedral, which ‘afforded another opportunity to the Catholic children of this city and neighbourhood of wishing his Lordship many happy returns of his patron’s feast-day’, and where the various schools presented addresses. Peata and Hēra (Sarah) signed the address ‘on behalf’ of the students of the school.
Feast of St. John the Baptist, 1867
From the Native pupils of the Nazereth Institution.
(Translated from the Maori.)
Father and beloved Bishop, – We wish to convey to you, on this your patron feast, our affectionate congratulations. We give thanks to Almighty God for all the edifying works performed by your Lordship with so much Christian abnegation for the salvation of souls. You, beloved Bishop, have conveyed to us the knowledge of the true faith. We rejoice that all your works are blessed by the hand of God. Your spiritual labours for the salvation of the Maori people have been, very great. Yes, my Lord, the great trials and hardships which, your Lordship has endured in planting the seed of our holy faith in this island will be remembered with the deepest sense of gratitude by generations yet unborn.
You have, my Lord, caused that branch of the Church in New Zealand to flourish and bring forth an hundredfold.
We take this most pleasing opportunity of expressing to your Lordship our deepest sense of gratitude for the blessings of the Christian education which we now receive in this Institution. In these sentiments of filial gratitude we humbly request your Lordship’s holy benediction. – We have, &c.,
(Signed) Hera.
Peata.
(On behalf of the pupils of the Institution of Nazareth.)43
Although it was originally given in Māori, it is difficult to know how much input the students had, or whether any of the French nuns also helped compose the address. In Letters on the Go, Jessie Munro provides another example of an English-language text created to celebrate Pompallier’s birthday in late 1868 that ‘promote[d] bicultural unity as still the primary mission goal, despite a context of increasing Irish monoculturalism’. Although also from ‘The pupils of the Nazareth Institute’, Munro asserts that the text ‘show[s] … Suzanne’s command of English’.44
The increasing Irishification of the Catholic Church in New Zealand was the least of Sister Aubert’s worries. By 1868, she and Peata were running the school on their own, and they had few funds to operate with. Pompallier’s diocese had little money to give, and with the passing of the Native Schools Act 1867, the government had taken effective control of Māori education, and was more interested in creating its own village schools than funding the church boarding schools.45 The school’s two-and-a-half acres of orchards and gardens no doubt supplemented the pupils’ diet, but money was scarce.46 An official visit by the new Governor, Sir George Bowen, and his wife in May 1868 to the two Catholic schools, Māori and Pākehā, at Mount St Mary’s was therefore an opportunity not to be missed. Sister Aubert composed a special song in their honour,47 and various addresses were read out to the vice-regal couple, such as the following for Lady Bowen.
Ki te Wahine Rangatira tino nui ko Perekehana Poene, te hoa wahine tino aroha o Kawana Perekehana Poene.
‘E kui tino nui i Nuitireni, tena ra ko koe. E kui aroha, haere mai, haere mai ki a matou nga kotiro Maori o te Kura Kaweneti o Nahareta; haere mai, haere mai, ka nui to matou rongo ki to mahi tino matua ki nga iwi no Ateraria. Ka nui hoki to matou mohio ki tou aroha me tou hiahia pai mo nga Maori. No reira ka hari rawa matou ki a kite i a koe. E whaea atawhai, ka nui to matou whakawetai ki a koe mo tou haerenga mai tino atawhai ki a matou. E hari ana matou ki a kite i te hoa wahine tino aroha o to matou Kawana tino pai te tino Kaiwhakarite o tona Nuinga Rawatanga ko Wikitoria Kuini kororia. E matau ana matou, e kui aroha, kua puta mai koe i Nuitireni, ka puta tetahi whaea mo nga iwi o tenei motu. Kia hari koe, e kui, kia hari te kawanatanga o tou hoa tane tino nui. Kia hari korua i o korua tamariki, kia ora roa koe, kia hari korua i tenei whenua.
‘Heoiano, e kui tino aroha, tino atawhai. Na nga kotiro akonga o te Kura Kaweneti o Nahareta.
‘Akarana, Mai 2, 1868.’
[newspaper translation]
‘To her Ladyship Lady Bowen, the beloved wife of his Excellency the Governor, Sir G. Ferguson Bowen. O thou, the great lady of New Zealand, be welcome. Beloved lady, come to us, the Maori girls of the school of Nazareth Institution. Come, come. We have heard of all that thou hast done for the people of Australia. We know also that thou lovest and desirest the welfare of the Maori, and therefore we are most happy to see thee. We feel most thankful towards thee for thy most honourable and benevolent visit to us. We are happy to see the beloved lady of our great Governor, the high representative of her Gracious Majesty Queen Victoria and we understand, beloved lady, that the inhabitants of New Zealand will have in you a most amiable and tender mother. Be happy, dearest lady. May the govern-ment of your very distinguished husband be prosperous and glorious. Be happy in your dear family, and may you with them enjoy every blessing in New Zealand. ‘From the Maori girls of the Nazareth Institution, Mount St. Mary’s, Auckland, New Zealand.
‘May 2, 1868.’48
Again, we do not know to what extent this address was composed by the girls themselves, perhaps assisted by Peata. Given the importance of the event, it is likely Sister Aubert also had some input. She also ensured that a full account was provided to the newspapers.49 Unfortunately, the church sold the land in 1869, and the Institute had to move to smaller premises. In 1871 it closed, and Sister Aubert moved to Hawke’s Bay to undertake missionary work there. Sister Peata, who was now blind, moved in with the Irish nuns of the Sisters of Mercy. Soon after she returned to Te Tai Tokerau where ‘[s]he wandered into the bush, and her body was found eight days later’.50
Although members of the Church of Jesus Christ of the Latter-day Saints arrived in New Zealand in the 1850s,51 serious missionary endeavours began in the 1880s, with Māori the most responsive to the Mormon message. By 1885, there were sixteen Māori branches of the church and four Pākehā ones. Elders Alma Greenwood and Ira Noble Hinckley Jr. worked in New Zealand in 1883–84, especially in the Wairarapa and East Coast regions, with considerable success, and they were responsible for thirteen of the branches established.52 Robert Joseph argues that the Mormon openness to Māori expressions of spirituality, and fortuitous interpretation of earlier Māori prophecies, contributed to the church’s success.53 The missionaries may appear patronising at times: in 1883 Greenwood wrote that ‘[t]he natives are anxious to learn and they are like clay in the hands of the potter ready to be moulded into any shape’, but they also appear to have been able to relate to, and form friendships with, Māori.54
Greenwood and Hinckley also sought converts in South Taranaki, where they formed a friendship with Hōriana Whakamairu, almost certainly related to the influential Mormon convert Īhaia Whakamairu of Ngāti Kahungunu.55 There are several letters written to Hinckley, held in the Huntington Library, California, attributed to Hōriana. These show the warmth of her feelings for Hinckley, and her familiarity even to the point of making fun of him. She also addresses him as ‘Nowetini’ (Norwegian). Both Māori and Mormons have a keen interest in whakapapa and, although ‘Hinckley’ is originally an English name, the Norwegian reference may relate to one of his forebears, or it might just be a nickname. The first letter is in Māori.
From Horiana Whakamairu
1884
Mangaia hurae 14
Kia hingeri nowetini e tamatenara kou tou katoa, ku atae mai tau reta aroha kia matou katoa[.] Kanui tomatou aroha kia koutou katoa[.] etama nui atu teti ka otau kupu momaua kotaku tu akana ikimai nei koe mehe me a maua iuru kiro to ite hahi kua karanga tia maua he tu a hine mokoutou ae ena pea au euru atai ho a emohio ana no au kote meano ia temea tika kotaua kupu itu hi mainei koe
heoi kia Nowetini
hingeri
me mutu tou kaha kitekai
koi nui tononona
kore nga katiro [sic] epirangi kia koe ito taenga kiuta kakore to kotiro epirangi kia koe[.] kanui te pai[.] heoiano na
to hoa aroha nui kia Nowitini[.]
Kia hingeri Nopera
[modern translation]
From Hōriana Whakamairu
1884
Mangaia, 14 July.
To Hinkley [the] Norwegian. Young man, greetings to all of you. Your loving letter has come to all of us. Great is our love for all of you. Young man, what you said about us my older sister and I is correct, if we had joined the Church we would have been called ‘sisters’ for you. Yes, perhaps I will join, and wait a bit. I now know that the thing that is right is what you wrote.
Well. To [the] Norwegian, Hinkley.
You had better stop eating so much or your backside will get big and the girls won’t want you when you get back to [America], your girl won’t want you. That will be good. Enough of that.
From your loving friend, to [the] Norwegian.
To Hinckley Noble.56
The second letter is in English, after Hinckley has left to return home. It is headed with the dates that Hinckley received and answered it while still in Auckland in handwriting that matches the rest of the letter, and is quite different to the handwriting of the Māori letter. This suggests that Hinckley received a letter from Hōriana in Māori, and the surviving document is his translation written in his own hand. The letter is just as affectionate as the earlier item, with references that may have made sense only to them, such as the ‘Babies’, but also betrays the emotion felt, when a friend departs and is unlikely to be seen again.
From Horiana Whakamairu (A Maori)
Received Oct 22/84 )
Answered Nov 6/84 ) at Auckland.
Manaia, Oct 1st 1884.
Mr. I. N. Hinkley
Dear Brother:
Before you leave the land where you have sojourned for the last two years (or more) I wish to pen a few lines as a farewell letter.
Friendship, such as we formed with you, is lasting. It cannot be erased in a day, month, nor a year. In fact, while memory lasts we will ever think of you, and the many enjoyable times I had with you.
You have had times of trouble, of persecution and hardship, and on the other hand, this has been intermingled with joy and happiness. Not only earthly happiness, but that peaceful and comforting influence which cometh from above.
While you have these vicissitudes to pass through you have ever enjoyed yourself. You have tasted of the bitter, which enabled you to better appreciate the sweet.
Your name will ever be held in kind remembrance by me, trusting at the same time your pleasant times you will have at home, will not be of such a nature to forget Manaia, and your friends at that place.
Many times have I thought about the Norwegian and the time spent with you. You have numerous enemies in New Zealand, as well as friends. Friends that would stand by you in adversity as well as prosperity. In times when trouble brooded over you, I know they would not forsake you.
When you get home don’t let that ‘kotiro’ [girl] of yours make you forget New Zealand.
I presume you will be joining the Matrimonial train as soon as you can. As a writer says ‘Get into the Matrimonial car, And ride along without a jar.’ Oh! then for the good times, too numerous to mention. Well Old Friend, Old Granny is well, digging away in the garden. She is putting in potatoes, melons &c. &c. She is troubled by the Spirits as ever. Change the subject again, I am taking care of the ‘Babies’ you gave me: (Wahs [illegible] Best crop) giving them[illegible] food, clothes & everything to make them comfortable.
They are very peaceable children, never complaining about anything. Never crying, never singing, in short never doing anything, except staying just where they are put.
This is what I like about them, for if otherwise I should have to let them out to the neighbors. (Don’t forget it.)
Homai taku awha [awhi] ki Greenwood, mo Nopera ka nui, ka nui awha. Ka mutu te kupu. [Give my embrace to Greenwood, and many embraces for Noble. That’s all on that.]
I hope you have a pleasant voyage home; also trust you will have a ‘Kapai’ [good] time, then ‘haere hoki mai’ [come back] again. If they would only send you back here it would please me, as well as many others.
When you get to Utah, (the ‘Queen of the West’) don’t forget to write to us. I presume you will be like all the rest of those ‘Mormons,’ when you get to Zion you will forget there are any Mormons in New Zealand. If you do, just look at my ‘Ahua’ [likeness] take a ‘Hongi’ [physical greeting] then send me a letter. Don’t forget this. Put it down in your memoranda. The time is coming when you will cross the old Pacific again. God bless you on your voyage.
May you have a pleasant voyage, & a good time at home which I know you will.
With kind love for Bro. Greenwood, also yourself[.] I am as ever your friend and sister in the Gospel.
Horiana Whakamairu
Write to us[,] let us know how you get home.
Good bye, Goodbye.
All the folks here send love to you. Pine, Robert, Sister Ihaia & Katoa [everyone].
We wish you well.
When missionaries are sometimes portrayed in two-dimensional terms, as dogmatic and inflexible, it pays to remember that they could not be successful in their work without some intimacy with their flocks.
The Salvation Army established itself in New Zealand in 1883, just five years after the movement was founded in London. As Cyril Bradwell and Harold Hill note, the Army began in New Zealand as a largely urban phenomenon, at a time when Māori were largely rural, and they did not undertake missionary work with Māori until 1888 along the Whanganui River. A few Māori, such as Maraea Moreti (Maria Morris), who were exposed to Army activities in urban areas, did join the movement in towns.57 Extracts of Maraea’s account of her capture by Te Kooti, and her witnessing of a number of violent deaths, including that of her husband, are included in chapter 2. These events were traumatic, and obviously had a lasting impression on her.
Maraea encountered the Salvation Army in Gisborne in October 1886, and a year later the movement’s newspaper the War Cry published an account of her conversion. The article is a mixture of third-person commentary linking her own first-person ‘testimony’, and is graced with an engraving of Maraea in uniform, taken from a photograph, labelled ‘Colour-Sergt. Maria, the Saved Half-Caste’. It begins with the Salvation Army holding a meeting on Gladstone Street, Gisborne’s main thoroughfare. Maraea stood beside a crowd of people, ‘listening to the far from complimentary remarks about the Army which were being freely bandied about to and fro’, until gaining the courage to enter. The texts reads, ‘The Captain was reading from the last chapter of Revelations, and here we must let Maria speak for herself’.
I felt it, and I went back to my house and said, “These people are not mad, like so many people tell me.”’58
The article provided a potted story of her life, included her experiences as a captive of Te Kooti’s group. She mixed with both Māori and Pākehā, attended various churches, and read the Bible.
A few days after the first Army meeting I met a Cadet in the street selling ‘War Crys,’ and I asked him in Maori to ‘sell me a ‘Cry’ for nothing’ (Maori expression for asking). He gave me a ‘Cry,’ and I said in English ‘Got no money.’ he smiled and said, ‘God bless you!’ I next saw the Captain go into my neighbour’s house – she was a good woman. Ishrinkedin to hear them talk. The Captain asked me if I was saved? Was I a Christian? Did I love God? I kept answering in Maori, and at last I said in English,
‘I am a Heathen!’
Then hebombarded me properly, and told me all about Salvation. After this I used to go to the Army meetings. I was very ‘pouri’ (sad), and my Maori friends used to say, ‘Maria is getting bewitched by the Army.’ At last a light came out of the darkness, and I felt I was wicked. One Friday night, twenty-six days after the officers opened fire, I came out at the Holiness Meeting and knelt at the table. They all prayed for me, but it was no good, my heart wasstubborn. I went home and prayed. Oh what a miserable week I had. I wrestled with great wrestlings. I couldn’t get rid of the devil, and God wouldn’t have anything to do with me. Then the Captain came and talked with me, and I told him some of my history and about my husband’s death, and when I told him this part he saw I was angry, and he asked me could I forgive Te Kooti for Jesus’ sake? and I said ‘No!’ Then he prayed with me to have power to forgive my enemies, and all at once the light broke in upon me, and I cried for forgiveness.
I pardoned Te Kooti,
and I felt my sins were forgiven from that moment, and I knew I was saved. After this I was so happy; I began to understand my Bible. I used to read the hymns, especially ‘There is a Fountain filled with Blood,’ and I resorted to constant prayer. Before this I seldom prayed.59
Maraea’s account localised her conversion story. Not only was she a ‘saved half-caste’ from Gisborne, but she had suffered at the hands of Te Kooti, a religious prophet who was then still alive and very much in the public imagination. At the time this article appeared in 1887, he had been pardoned by the government four years earlier, and had recently made trips to Napier and Wairoa. He was also planning to visit Poverty Bay, the scene of many of his killings, something the authorities barred him from doing in 1889 on account of the raw feelings held by both Māori and Pākehā communities there.60
The narrative also explained that Maraea found the public aspects of Salvationist work difficult, such as wearing the uniform. She also became angry when people laughed at her when speaking in the community.
Then there was another fight for me, a big struggle, to overcome my temper; it was a bad one. The Captain and Cadet would talk and pray, and the devil would pull, and I was miserable again. I got ‘quite mixed’ (Maori for ‘bewildered’). At last Major Barritt came to Gisborne, and we had a Holiness meeting on the first morning (Sunday), and he talked about sanctification, and I listened and prayed, and all at once the light came like before. I got the victory;
and ran away. Then I felt my heart was washed white as snow; all my sins were gone and I knew I was sanctified through the blood of Jesus. I was washed clean, no spots left. I soon began to grow bold to speak for my Saviour – to testify, to speak in open-airs, to march, and to pray aloud. Now I want to do everything or go anywhere for Jesus, because I am sanctified to His service.
…
I know … that I have done wicked things, but the past is forgotten, God has forgiven my sins. The Salvation Officers were the first ever to speak to me about my soul. They touched my heart and brought me to God, and that’s why
and I want to be a real Blood-and-Fire Soldier for Jesus and go forth and fight the devil.61
Maraea’s use of words also aligned with the Salvationist world she now inhabited and loved. She was an early Māori convert to the Army, and her narrative was printed not for a Māori audience, but a Pākehā one. We do not know whether she wrote her words or was interviewed, whether the newspaper or fellow church members encouraged her to engage in this discourse, or if she did it on her own initiative. She remained a fervent member of the Army until her death in 1907, and participated in some of its Māori events, so we can assume that her text reflects the kind of message that she would have wanted broadcast.
Despite its work on the Whanganui River, and the establishment of a corps at the predominantly Māori community at Ōtaki, a certain ambivalence existed in the Salvation Army towards proselytising Māori; a ‘Maori Division’ was started in 1889, disbanded in 1894, was reconstituted in 1896, and disbanded again in 1899.62 The Army attracted some Māori followers in urban settings, such as Emare Poroumati, a Te Arawa woman from Rotorua. Emare first wrote to the War Cry in 1894. As with Maraea’s account, she discusses her conversion, but she chose to direct her story to Māori members of the church in their own language.
Ki te Etita o te Reo Tana [Taua] ara (‘War Cry’) a te Ope Whakaora.
Tena Koe, – Me pai koe ke [ki] te ta i aku kupu ke [ki] to pepa ne? (A e tino pai ana au ki te ta i nga korero pai katoa, kia tere rawa koe ki te tuku mai i etahi atu.) No maehe i mauhe [mahue] ake nei ka kotahi ai toku tau ki roto i to koutou whakapono. A he wa ano i whakaarotia ai, he wa ano i mahia ana, a katahi nei ka oti, ara toku hiahia kia tuhi atu ki ta koutou ‘Reo Tana [Taua],’ whakaatu i toku koa mo te mea nui, mea ngaro rawa kua kitea nei e ahau. Pupu tonu te koa i toku ngakau, tiaho tonu toku wairua i te hari mo tenei manakohanga mai a Ihowa ki a au. Ka mea atu nei hoki ahau, ‘e te Ope Whakaora, kei a koe te mana o Ihowa. (Koianei tetahi o nga mea kua whakakitea mai ki a au.) I ngaro hoki ahau a na koutou i kimi, ka kitea, i mate, a na koutou i whakaora.’ Ko te Karaiti te rata, ko ana kupu nga rongoa; a ko te Wairua Tapu te kai mahi: a ko enei e toru i mahia katoatia mai i roto i a koutou. Koia taku whakanui mo to koutou ingoa irunga ake nei, katahi ano ahau ka kite i te tikanga o taua ingoa, ka whakapou hoki na te Atua tenei Ope Whakaora. Ka rite ki te matapo i whakaorangia ra e te Karaiti, i mea ra ‘i kapotia ahau, heoi kua kite: a ka whakapono nei hoki, he tama tenei na te Atua.’ Ka rua te kau ma ono (26) oku tau i whanau mai ai ki nga hara ki nga mate o te ao, heoi ka kotahi tau tonu me te hawhe o toku whanau houtanga i te Wairua Tapu, ki te ora. Kei te 3, o Hoani Rongo Pai, te whaka maramatanga mo tenei te 3, me te 7, o nga rarangi. E hoa ma, kua kite koutou i te tiaho o toku maramatanga, na, whakakororia tahi tatou. He utu hoki ahau mo a koutou mauiuiranga maha i roto i te Ariki. NA EMARE POROUMATI.
[newspaper translation]
To the Editor of the ‘War Cry’ of the Salvation Army.
Greetings. Would you be so kind as to print my words in your paper? (And I am happy to print all good stories, and you should be quick at sending in some more.) Last May I had been one year in your faith. I thought about it for a while, more time doing it, and then it was done, that is, my desire to write to your ‘War Cry’ to show my joy at this big, hidden thing that I have found. The joy bubbles up in my heart, my spirit shines with happiness from God’s consideration for me. And I say, ‘Salvation Army, you have the mana of Jehovah. (This is one of things shown to me.) I was lost, and you looked for me and found me, I was suffering, and you saved me.’ Christ is the doctor, his words are the medicine, and the Holy Spirit is the means. These three things all worked within you. And so I praise your name above, and I saw for the first time the meaning of that name, and I declared that this Salvation Army came from God. I was like the blind man who was healed by Christ, and said ‘I was blind, and now I see, and I believe that this is the son of God.’ It is 26 years since I was born into the sins and pains of this world, and it is one and a half years since my being born again in the Holy Spirit, to life. The explanation for this is in the third [chapter] of St. John’s Gospel of John, verses 3 and 7. friends, you have seen the shining of my light, so, let us all give glory together. I am payment for your many ills within the Lord From Emare Poroumati.63
Early the following year the War Cry published the second of Emare’s letters, printed only in Māori.
‘KI TE ETITA.’
‘Kia ora koe i te manaaki a to tatou Ariki a Ihu Karaiti. Amine.’
Kua kite iho ahau i aku kupu i tuku atu na ki to pepa, a kanui taku whakawhetai mo to tono kia tuhi atu ano.
E hoa ma, tenei ahau te whakawhetai atu nei ki to tatou Matua i te rangi. Mona i manako mai ki ahau hei hoa mo koutou ki te kauwhau i te Rongo Pai. Tangohia ana e Ta te wahangutanga o toku mangai; whakanekehia atu ana te ruaruatanga o toku ngakau. Meingatia iho ahao [sic] e Ta kia ngohengohe rawa kia rite ki te pepi whanau hou. Kati ko to koutou pononga i naianei i roto i te Ariki i tana mahi tohu hoki. Kua meinga kia pakari. Koia ra tenei ka totoro a wairua atu nei ki te ru ki a koutou kei roto i a te Karaiti toku korerorero me toku hari kia koutou. Ka mea atu nei hoki whakaatu mai ki a matou i tou ahua i nga pakanga hoki e whawhaitia ana e koutou ki ena takiwa. A ko ahau ka pena tahi. E mahara ana ahau kaore ano he kupu Maori ki te Reo Tana i muri mai i taaku. A e mohio ana ahau he tokomaha noa atu nga tangata wahine o roto o Whanganui me Otaki e ahei ana mo te tuku korero mai.
Mo te mea e hoa ma e whakapono ana ahau ara ki te penei ta tatou mahi ka tautoko tatou etahi i etahi a he pono hoki ki te huihui o tatou whakaaro kia kotahi ka tino pakaru i a tatou te mahunga o te Rewera.
Kia mana te tono a to koutou hoa pononga.
Kia tau te rangimarie a te Karaiti ki o koutou wairua. Amine.
E. POROUMATI, Panaera, Akarana.64
[modern translation]
To the Editor
‘Greetings to you in the love of our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.’
I have seen my words that I sent to your paper, and I am pleased at your request for me to write again.
Friends, Here I give thanks to our Father in heaven, for his blessing that I may be your friend and preach the Gospel. Sir, remove the silence from my mouth, and shift the doubts from my heart. Sir, make me as malleable as a newborn baby. And so, I am your [plural] servant in the Lord and in his work of witness. I have been made strong. And so I reach out in spirit to you to shake hands with you in Christ, with my words and my happiness to you. And I say, tell us about how you are going, and the battles you are fighting in your areas. And I will do the same. I am thinking that there were no Māori words in the War Cry before mine. And I know there are many women in Whanganui and Ōtaki capable of sending stories in.
Friends, because I believe if we all do this, and support each other, and faithfully combine our thought as one, then we will truly smash the Devil’s head.
Let the request of your servant be fulfilled.
May Christ’s peace rest upon your souls. Amen.
E. Poroumati, Parnell, Auckland.
The language of Emare’s second letter reflects her desire to preach. Her letter moves from addressing the editor, to ‘friends’, to God, and back to the Māori readers again in a manner reminiscent of oral discourse. Emare was fluent in English, but she preferred working with Māori people, including for a time as a missionary for the Presbyterian and then the Methodist Māori Missions in the early twentieth century, before returning back to the Salvation Army.65
Religion can be both a public and a personal concern. As with other public matters, it was more often Māori men who took on leadership roles, or represented the community, regarding religious issues. Expressions of personal faith from women that may have been recorded on paper, like other private texts, were less likely to be included in the public archive. Like some other aspects of Māori women’s lives, the archival record of their religious experiences is patchy. In particular, we know of women’s leadership in the various syncretic religious responses66 (which from the 1860s were generally lumped together by Pākehā as ‘Hauhau’ movements) and faith healing (‘tohunga-ism’), but the primary sources available were written by others, rather than the women themselves.
As the texts in this chapter show (and those in chapter 2), Maraea Moreti’s description of her willing participation in Pai Mārire ceremonies, then her more reluctant observance of religious practices when a prisoner of Te Kooti, demonstrate how religion could have a significant impact on Māori women. At times we need to read texts in which women proclaim their faith with an eye to the motives of those who reproduced or helped create them. For example, how much of the voices in Yate’s letters belong to the women concerned, or to their missionary who sought ongoing support from Britain? To what degree is Maraea Moreti’s account of her conversion to Salvationism her own, and how much was constructed by the newspaper for its readership? Notwithstanding these issues, it is clear that religion and faith are important factors in understanding the lives of Māori women of the nineteenth century.