“He was still obliged to provide for the chaplain’s duties, though the army was no longer massed, but was spread into numerous out-posts stretching as far as ninety miles from Auckland. This involved his starting every Friday with such clerical companions as he could get; calling at the various stations throughout Saturday to do any pastoral duty required amongst the troops, and planning with the officers how to make the most of his services on Sunday.... After forty-five miles we reached the Waikato river ... when the steamer arrived it was found to be towing some barges filled with the families of the new Australian settlers, a corps which had been raised in the Australian towns.... The arrival of these families was an opportunity for pastoral work.... The Bishop plunged into the barges.... One woman, the mother of a family was nearing her end. He induced the captain to put her on shore opposite to a wooden church which had been riddled by shot and dismantled in the war. Inside that inhospitable ruin he proposed to stay the night as the comforter of the poor woman, and bade me proceed to the nearest military post and await his arrival. Early on the Saturday morning he arrived after an unbroken night watch, during which he had seen his poor patient’s death, had committed her body to the grave and had made arrangements for the charge of her children. Without any sleep, he then hastened to depart on foot to the missionary station, where we had been expected overnight. During the many hours of the day as we passed over the fields of action with their gloomy records of ruined churches, abandoned paths, down-trodden enclosures, the Bishop poured out his heart to me more freely than was his wont. The scene was sad enough to have overwhelmed him with acute regret and despondency for the future. The Waikato tribe more than 10,000 strong, the most advanced of the powerful tribes in civilization and churchmanship, with churches and a complete set of schools endowed by themselves, were now driven from their fertile valley, estranged from British rule, and perhaps alienated from the Christian faith. The missionary work of forty years seemed all undone and the Bishop himself was regarded as a traitor. Yet all these gloomy reflections were put away, and his only thought was how to minister to the new settlers now pouring in from the Australian towns.... As we passed over the scene of bloodshed he said: ‘I have been in every action I could possibly reach. It was my duty to minister to the wounded natives as well as to the British.... Indeed I always ministered to the fallen Maori first so as to give a practical answer to their charge against me of forsaking and betraying them. It was needful that I should be in the midst of each fray and between two fires; but I was never hurt. I lay on the ground at night and shared soldier’s fare.’”