With its detailed research, clarity of writing and richness of illustrations, this book sets the gold standard for how local history should be presented.

It also illustrates just how careful you need to be when handling a good non-fiction book. Before you know it, the lure of the topic, the expertise and passion of the author(s), becomes infectious. So, I found myself standing on windswept knolls, book in hand, looking out across the swampy valleys of the lower reaches of the Mangatāwhiri Stream trying to identify the locations of colonial camps and fortifications.

In A History of Queen’s Redoubt and the Invasion of the Waikato, Ian Barton and Neville Ritchie provide a brilliant insight into the building of what was the largest and arguably most significant redoubt in New Zealand as British forces prepared to launch the land grab in the wholly unjustified assault on Māori in the Waikato.

The redoubt sits at the southern end of Pōkeno, on the boundary of the Waikato and Auckland, which is now rapidly expanding with modern houses, new supermarket and plans for a revitalised town centre as it finds new life as an affordable commuter suburb for its giant neighbours.

It is as Pōkeno - indeed any locality - sees an influx of new money and people, that preserving history becomes most important. As Queen’s Redoubt shows, in the case of Pōkeno, that history casts a large shadow over Auckland - the road to war literally saw the building of the Great South Road, under whose layers of asphalt probably still lie the gravel smashed from local rocks by British soldiers involved in the backbreaking task of creating the original roadway. The redoubt became a pivotal part of the supply chain which provisioned the British soldiers in the field and was instrumental in forcing a defeat on the Kīngitanga iwi.

While the redoubt itself provides a tight focus for the book, Barton and Ritchie deftly expand the view to include relevant and often delightful context. So, we learn (in part through the writing of the Reverend Vicesimus Lush - my pick for the most glorious name in the book) of the boom times of Port Waikato, which became a leading coastal port for cargo shipped around the country, even welcoming ships from Sydney. It was acclaimed by one paper as the possible future “seat of the New Zealand Government.” My how times change. And then reflect on this year’s announcement by the Government of $30 million committed to revive coastal shipping and upgrade maritime infrastructure. Maybe Port Waikato’s second boom is nigh.

The book is a dextrous crafting of painstaking research of archives and documents paired with the earthy expertise of archaeology, digging finds out of the soil of the site. It was pleasing to see the inclusion of material from local researchers like Bruce Ringer who carried out indefatigable research into the old military mile posts that used to line the Great South Rd. Now there is only one left.

Throughout, you know you are in the hands of authors who are uncontested experts in their topic. Barton is a historian with a back catalogue of strong local books; Ritchie is a trained archaeologist who carried out his first dig in 1968 and has worked on the Chinese miners of the Otago goldfield and Scott’s and Shackleton’s huts in the Antarctic. Together they are the tireless force behind the Queen’s Redoubt Trust which is preserving and reconstructing the site which now has one of the most professional and immersive mini-museums you will find anywhere in the country.

In doing what they do, they are preserving and widening access to knowledge of a local landmark and furthering our understanding of the history of our own backyard and how it sets the platform for today.

They draw an image of what the country was like before the war and what we lost as a result of it - the Waikato was a fertile area of gardens, fields and orchards owned and farmed by local iwi, an economic powerhouse for Māori, which was the bread basket for Auckland. There was goodwill and assistance by all. If there had instead been a peaceful and fair settlement of incoming Pākehā, we could have, and most probably would have, been a far stronger, better country than we are now.

Tribute must also be given to Atuanui Press, who have produced a book which is marvellously studded with historic photos, maps and tables. It would be wonderful if others, around the country, intrigued by their own local monuments and history, followed this path.

Meanwhile, I’ve visited the ruins of an 1850s flour mill operated by local hapū, wangled a tour by Ritchie of the redoubt and been shown the site of a probable midden heap just waiting to be dug. Soon I’ll be investing in a trowel and joining Barton and Ritchie scraping back the soil. Books. Powerful things.

Reviewed by David Gadd