In 1830 a small group of Weslian missionaries, led by Rev Nathanial Taylor, journeyed on horseback from Hokianga to Coromandel.
A formidable journey, over difficult terrain. When they had not far to go, they came across a clearing near the sea. In the clearing were the still warm, mutilated bodies of a dozen or so Maori men, women and children who had been slaughtered by marauders from a neighbouring tribe. (Don’t let the woke latte maori pricks in the universities and media tell you that before the white man came, all was sweetness and light.)
The missionaries dismounted and set about burying the dead and cleaning up the mess. They heard a noise from within a flax bush. Just like a little bird waiting to be fed. When they looked, they found a two week old baby girl, wrapped tightly in towels. (She had been thrust in there by her mother who knew her end was near and was desperate to save her baby.)
The missionaries named the little girl Mere (Mary) Kaimanu (eat bird) and she was adopted by Rev Anderson and grew up as Mere Kaimanu Anderson.
Like Moses from long ago, she had a foot in both camps, Maori and Pakeha (European) and did much to resolve disputes and foster good relations between the two races.
Mere Kaimanu grew up and married a wealthy Welsh trader, Edward Telford Davis, and had seven children. Two grandchildren became respectively leading Maori farmers and politicians. One of her descendants, Kelvin Davis, is deputy prime minister in unarguably the most incompetent government ever to afflict New Zealand. Another descendant finds himself singing bass baritone with the South West Opera Company and writing the occasional blog post.
No Minister 
Great story and proves the adage you can choose your friends and acquaintances, rellies not so much, thankyou for sharing.
Hello there, some of your story is incorrect. My Nana Merekaimanu’s mother and many others were shot and killed by British Soldiers, Not by neighboring Tribes! So yes it was the white man who killed my Great Grand Nana and many others whom laid alongside of her! My Grand father Edward was all that you proclaim he was. Please do not trample on the memory of my Tūpuna. Watch the Tainui Wars, and as you see that mama carrying her baby on her back running to get away, it’s exactly like that scene when she gets shot and killed while running through the swamp away from the British Soldiers. And that picture is of my Great Aunty Merekaimanu and not my Great Nana Merekaimanu. Please check your facts before you make up stories about history.
And steamrollers do roll steam and the Moon is made of blue cheese ……………………….
1830…… British troops, I think not.
“the first troops to land in New Zealand were a detachment of the 80th Regiment which arrived from Sydney in April 1840, and 30 years later the …”
If it was 1830 simple probability analysis would tell you it was another Maori tribe. Its that simple.
Perhaps you or someone in your family is mixing up their stories, thats what happens with oral stories, and or it suits the narrative from your relatives. I know with my family stories things change over the generations or even with in generations.
Slaughtered in the usual custom by a rival tribe, which would be a disgrace, or supposedly slaughtered by the British Army. ?
The British Army has far more mana in a story dont you think?
thats incorrect this is my 5th g grandmother