DEATH OF MR SEDDON.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 8655, 22 June 1906, Page 4

DEATH OF MR SEDDON.

;-•'- ' ♦-— — . " ■ ■ , (Contl^ed froir. Fago. 1.) ■ceated chamber, and in marched the Maoris in a compact body, the women, in i ront . Some fifty women formed this advance guard of the " bringing of the tears." They trod slowly on, training this way and that, but ever keeping their heads bowed until their fronv ram's nearly reached the coffin. Beautiful women some of those tribespeople, all of birth and station, and< nearly all with blue tattooed chins and lips the still cherished token or badge and sign of Maoridom. They all wore black dresses. Greenstone jewels and sharks' teeth hung by black ribbons from their ears 'and on their necks, and their heads and shoulders were profusely twined with green leavers and chaplets, the Maori insignia of mourning. In their hands, too, they carried green branchlets, a>nd with these ther kept ti A perfect and rhythmic to the shrill^itge that they tang. "Haehaea, .Ripiripia "— " Score the flesh. Scarify your bod: e%as with knives ". That was the burden /of their opening song, and they kept appropriate time to it, drawing their hands up and down across their ybreasts and shoulders, in allusion to the olden funeral custom of lacerating and cutting the flesh with flakes of obsidian or with mussel shells, the privilege of the feminine section of the tribe. In front of all marched the Wanganui chieftainefes, Wiki Taitoko, daughter of the late Major Kemp, a woman of commanding presence, one of those wahines who would have held a pa in days of old, and fought as well as any warrior. She and Utauta, a lady of . rank from the Ngatiapa tribe, gave the time to iho mam body of the mourners, and ' cpukana'd" and grimaced and contorted their bodies in the most approved Maori ■tyle, for this was the " Maimai," the chant and dance of grief, and from time immemorial the Maori wahine has led these straage barbaric ceremonies. Behind the women were the^men, an interesting comingling of ancient and modern. Some' were frock-coated, well groomed rangatiras from the Wairarapa and Eawke's Bay. There,, too, were veterans of the old war days, river men from the Upper Wanganui, sheep farmers from the East Cape, wood-carvers from Rotorua^ collegebred members of Parliament, shoulder to shoulder with a tatooed relic of the days of inter-tribal warfare.^ This particular . specimen of the antique Maori is worth a word or two. He was a fine old fellow from Jerusalem kainga, on the Wanganui River, by name Poma Haunui, a striking figure, with his deeply tattooed, thin, drawn face, his , square-shouldered mien, in spite of his advanced age, a korowai mat around him, a red-feathered carved taiaha in Jiis hand. Poma is an old soldier of the Queen. He held a commission- as cap-, •tain in Major Kemp's Native contingent on the .Government side, and fought bravely against the Hauhaus in thei Wanganui, Taranaki and East Coast districts from 1864 up to 1870. He is about the last survivor of the gallant band of f riendlies who defeated the up-river HauHaue on Moutoa Island, m the Wanganui River, in 1864, and saved Wanganui town. „ , Another notable old soldier with a truculent cock of his eye even now is Tata Nihonihoj he who sent a greenstone mere to Lord Roberts during the Boer war from the Ngatiporou country, north of Gisborne. Tuta comes of the blue blood of Ngatiporou, and he holds the # New Zealand war medal for his • military service under Major Ropata in the Urewera campaigns of 1869-71. Here, too, is a warrior of another ilk, Tutangi Waionui, from Pariroa, Patea, He was a Hauhau of the Hauhaus in his savage youth^ and waa one of the rebel leader Titokowaru's most active •couts in the Taranaki bu6h fighting of 1868-69. And "Timi Kara," too. He, as he stood, tall and statuesque, by the coffin-side, a whalebone mere in his ■hand, was an old soldier himself, for when, quite a boy he "smelt powder and won his war medal in the skirmishes with the Urewera biushmen arcund. the rugged shores of Lake Waikaremoana. IJut now, the first wild burst of the " maimai " song subsided, the swaying women, .their dark flowing hair crown-ed-with foliage, seated themselves on the floor and left a narrow lane through which one or two chiefs advanced to lay fine mats beside the other Maori treasures at the cofim-sido. The hum of weeping rose, led by the old tattooed ladies of Ngatikahungunu • and other tribes seated just in front of the sacred

' Tu pa paku." Then the men of Wanjaniu, led off by their Chief Takarangi vtetc Kingi, who quivered' a polished nere in the air, chanted in chorus one >f their laments. . i THE MAORI "MIHI" TO MRS SEDDON. Mr Carroll spoke: " Haere mai c to wi takoto nei. Greetings to the. people seated before me. Greetings to all the iribes from both islands. Their shelter aas gone, tlieir provider hae been taken away, the noble totara tree has fallen, cut off by the axe of death. He has gone to the great night." Nothing could stay the hand of death, but loving messages of sympathy could perhaps do something to assuage the keen sorrow of the bereaved ones. In that spirit it was desired to present the widow and children of the late Mr Seddon with the Maoris "anihi," their loving messages of sorrow and of condolence. Turning to the eons of the dead Premier, Captain Seddon and Messrs T. Y. and Stuart Seddon, Mr Carroll said that the whole of the Maori people felt most poignantly the death of their parent, and he trusted that if anything could iri any way temper the sorrow of the afflicted family it would be this little tribute of affection and grief from the native race. Mr Carroll then _ produced an engrossed scroll, bearing in Maori and in English an address to Mrs Seddon. This "mihi," couched in poetic language, was read by the Minister in measured and impressive tones, and well deserves a permanent record as an example of pure idiomatic Maori/ and of simple, touching beautiful English. It was signed by over a hundred representative natives, men and women. The English text (drafted by Messrs Heko and Ngata. and finally, approved fay Mr Carroll) is as follows:— k "To Mrs Seddon, in memory of Richard John Seddon, Premier of New Zealand, from the Maori tribes of Aotearoa (North Island) and Te Waipounamu (South Island). — Remain 0 mother with thy children and wiy children's children! Tarry ye a while in the house of mourning, in the chamber of death. Clasp but the cold form of -him who was to thee husband beloved. He is now from thee parted, gone into the dark night, into that long, long sleep. 1 God be with thee in thine hour of trial. 'Here he lies in the calm majesty of death. "Rest 0 father! The tribes have , assembled to mourn their lose. ;. Aue! The canoe is cast from its moorings, its energy and guide : no more.-. .Thev red-hued bird, the i kaka kura, the ornament of Aotearoa^ the proud boast of the * Waipounamu, the mighty heart of the land, the moving spirit of the people, fare thee well, a long 1 farewell ! Pass on 0 noble one across the long sands of Haumu, beyond the barrier of Paerau, going before to join the illustrious dead. Woe ujito us that are left desolate in the valley of sorrow. In life thou wert great. . Actqgb the great ocean of Kiwa, beset by the turbulent; waves of faction, mid the perverse minds of opinion, thou didst essay forth, that thy peoples should reap of benefits, that these islands and thy mother race should see and do their duty in the Dreader spheres j of Empire and humanity. Fate relentless seized thee in the mid- ...•. ocean of effort, and compelled thee into the still waters of ; death, of rest. Sleep thou, 0 father, resting on great deeds ' done, sure that to generations ' : nnbarn they will be as beacons V -along the highways of history. '■.'iThjDugn thou art gone, may thy •spirit, which so long moved the

heart of things, inspire us to greater and nobler ends. "Stay not your lamentations, 0 ye people, for ye have indeed lost a father. Verily, our pa of refuge is razed to the' ground. The breastwork of defence for great and small is taken. Torn up by » the roots is the overshadowing rata tree. As the fall of the towering tctara in the deep forest of Tane (te wao nui a Tane), so/ is the death of a mighty man: E|rth quakes to the rending crash. Our shelter gone, who will temper the wind? What of thy Maori people hereafter unless thou canst from thy distant bourne help inspire the age to 1 kindlier impulse and action. 'So bide ye in your grief, bereaved ones. Though small our tribute, our hearts have spoken. Our feet have trod the sacred precincts of the courtyard of death (Te Marae o atua). Our hearts will be his grave. Love will keep his memory green through the long weary years. Hei konpi ra! Farewell!"" • . ' ; The address read, .Mr Carroll handed it to Captain Seddon. THE TANGI SONGS. y Then, tribe after tribe rose to pay tribute to the dead. Chief after chief stood up to deliver his " Poroporoaki," his salute to the spirit of Te Hetana. Up rose .Hori Te Huki, a grey old chief of Ngatikahungunu. " Haere atu c koro! f- Farewell, 0 old man," he cried. " Go thou to that last dwelling-place to salute thy honoured ancestors, to greet the spirits of the mighty dead." Then Te Huki broke out into a plaintive lament, in which all his people quietly joined him >in a resounding chant. It was an ancient lament by ; a widow, for her departed husband : — R«stlw3 I lie Within my lonely house, For the loved one of my life : Has passed away. ' , ■ The singers, their voices rising and falling in wild cadence, went on, to compare the vanished chieftain to an uprooted tree. " My shelter from the blustering "winds ' Alas, 'tis now laid low." Then' the poet developed another beautiful piece of imagery : — Behold yon glistenng star so bright, Perhaps 'tis my beloved friend Returned 'to me again,- . 0 sire return ! And tread with me again. Thy old loved paths. ; Changing the metaphor yet again, the mourners chanted all together — O thou that art gone, Thou wort as a i great canoe' decked frith the snowy down Of lordly albatross. In another dirge, introducing many mythological allusions, the poet said :— Thqu'rfc borne away in thevcanoe R&warewa. Snatched from us by the gods' Raukatauiri and Ruatangata. Dip deep the paddles all together, to bear thee far away. Eruera Te Kahu and Ratana Ngahina, chiefs of the Ngatiapa tribe, led their people in the singing of this finely phrased mourning chant, an adaptation of an old and oft-sung apakura : — ( Pass on, Hetana, along the quiet ways. The beloved one of my heart. My shelter and defence Against the bleak south wind. My speaking bird thai charmed 1 the assembled tribes, That swayed the people's councils. Cloth© him, th« father, with the stately garments, ; The very fine mats Tahuwhenua and Taharangi. t ■■> ' .Place in his ear the precious jewel etone, The greenstone Kahurangi. Hang on his breast the K.oko-Tangiwai, Of glistening lucid jade. 0 thou wert a prop within the house. \kl the prow of the canoe thou wert, Ears bent to the plashing- sound of many paddies In the waters of Poneke, In ihe contentions of the people's council. Our prized Kaka bird haa gone ; The plumes alone remain. A NGAITAHU DIRGE. Now came the chiefs of the Greenstone Land, only two or three of them, but xhe big half-caste Rangatira Timoro Whina (better known as George Robin- j son, of Little River, Canterbury), made up in eize for his people* sparsity of numbers. He is a man of almost gigantic stature, ia one-time celebrated wrestler and athlete, and he chanted this dirge, with a force and intensity

that thrilled his he&rere. Prefacing his waiafca with a short " poropororoaki " to the dead Premier, he apostrophised the vanished one in poetically figurativeterms as the sweet singing bird of the dawning day, th© bright efcar of the morning, the great one of the earth. Then h& sang:— Keen blows the nor'-west wind, Wind from thft mountain land, Bringdng> sad thoughts of thee. Where, O Hetana, art thou gone? Parhapa in Council Hall thou'rfc laid. Io await thy people's coming. Yes, theie -Hes tiiy, mortal shell, resting fci., 1 last from its many, from its innumerable ' travels, Prom its ceaseless goings to and fro. Yes, thou return'dst to thy people Round yonder mountain cape, Back to thy dwel.ing-place. Rest from thy travels, 0 -well beloved one. Sharp pangs dart through my sou!, O lordly totara tree, The pride of Tank's woods. Xhou'rt lowly laid A.B was the canoe; of Bata, The son of Tane, launched For vengeance on the slayer Matutu, Who. aoon himself was slain. 'Tw»s thou alone that death didst pluck From the midst of living men, And now thou s'tandst atone Like the bright star of morning. For us naught but sad memories. Sleep soundly friend t - EAST COAST LAMENTS. The -veteran Wi Pere, ex-M.H.R. for the Eastern Maori electorate, was the n>ext in the order of " Whaikorero." "Farewell," he cried. "Farewell, O friend of niine. Depart to tlie great night that opens wide for" you." He began his tribal funeral chant, " Haere ra o koro," and was joined by lis people in the stentorian song — " Farewell, O friend! Depart to thine ancestral company. Thou'rt plucked froni us. as the flaxshooi is plucked from the bush And held aloft among the mourners. Thou that w«rt our pur boast, our pride, whoso name has soared on high, Thy people now are lone and desolate indeed. Thou'rt gone, O friend! ■ Thou'rt vanished like our ocean fleet of old. The famed canoes Aiamira, Hoimtaihi xtangi, Taiopuapua, To Baro, Tua Maheni, To Araiteuru &nd Nuku Taimemeha, The oanoo that drew up from the sea this solid land." i The allusion in this poem to "the "shoot of the flaxbush " (t-e rite o harakeke) requires a little knowledge of the old -time meiihods of divination practised by the tohungas prior to a war party setting out on; the enemy's brail. The omen reader would pluck up the "rite" or middle shoot of a flax plant. If the end broke off evenly and straight it was a good eign, presaging an easy victory. If it vc&s jagged and gapped or torn, that was a " tohu kino," or evil omen-, and a lead- | ing chief of the war party would be slain. The ancient canoes enumerated ; were some of those which brought the ancestors of the East Coast tribes to this country from the Islands of Polynesia. The Araiteuru is the sailing canoe which was wrecked on the beach hear Moeraki six centuries ago. Nuku taimemeha is one of the mythological names of the canoe from which; in the days of remote antiquity, the great Maui " fished up " the North Island of New Zealand. A moment's breathing space, and Wi Pere began again, and all his people chanted with him, their lament," begin- i nine — "Marumaru rawa mai. te w'hare, ki Poneke"— Affliction's deepest gloom enfolds this house, For in it Seddon lies, Whose death eats out our hearts. 'Twas he to whom we closest olung in days „ gone by , ■ O! whispering north-west breeze, blow fair for me. Waft me to Poneke, and take me to the friend I loved in days gone by. O! peoples all, and tribes, Raise the loud cry of grief! For the Ship of Fat« has passed Port Jack- | ■ son's distant cape, And on the all-destroying sea our great one died. A THRILLING FINALE. The final 6cene in the tangi-hainga was a dramatic climax to the intensely touching ceremony. The songs, the ; high-pitched cries of farewell, cries almost of despair, had wrought both Maoris and pakebas up to a pitch of deep feeling. Mr Hone Heke. M.H.R. ? seated on the floor near the Wanganui contingent, rose and spoke his " poroporoaki," as the last of the appointed \ orators. He spoke briefly, and with j the epigrammatic force of his race, the old, old farewells to»» his departed leader. Then, at his signal, Takarangi Mete Kingi, sitting just in front of him, rose to hia feet, and circling. his mere round his head, he cried the opening words of a Waiata — " Whakarongo c te llau, Tenei te tupuna o te mate." The effect was electrical. The people sprang to their feet, women and men, and with, the energetic chieftainesses, Wiki and Utauta on the opposite sides of the Wanganui and Ngaiiapa party gesticulating, with rolling eyes, they broke into a grand chorus, an old and well remembered chant to death. It had more than a touch of the barbaric, but there was something splendid in it. They stamped and threw their arms this way and that. The womeo waved aloft their leafy trophies oi" sorrow, and as they chanted with fall voice the sonorous poem, it seemed a«s if they were defiantly challenging the Death that lay personified in front of them. This was the waiata they sang, I but no English translation can con- j vey the inexpressible pathos, the poetic force, the classic terseness of the original Maori; — Hearken, O ye people! This is. the parent of Death, our common ancestor, . Who must embrace us all. 'Twas conceived in the Beinga, 'twas engendered in the dark, sad night. ; 'Tis but a breath from heaven, and we pass away for ever. We fall and prone we lie, and ever soundly sleep, We slumber with our knees drawn up; We slumber, stricken in a heap. I likeu me to yon bright starry sign, to Mahutonga (the Southern Cross) That ever round and round revolves. We circle our lives and then pass on. I am but as a wandering spirit. Behold tho hawk that soars so far above, in siimmex ekies, , . And listen to the sullen matuku, the bittern that bellows in the swamp. (The melancholy bittern is here apparently a symbol for death.) Eyes rolling, feathers dancing, black tresses tossing and brandished ! in. the air, the Popi people ended their ; great song with a long-drawn "E-E!" An excited man cried his loud farewell higher and higher, until lie almost screamed it. "Farewell! Depart! Depart! and greet your .many ancestors." Then he snatched up a eoft flax mat on whioJi he had been kneeling, and advancing placed it at the foot of the bier. Again the weird sad cry, " Haefts ra, haere ra, c koroa ! go, 0, old man> to that place, that place!" . Subsiding into respectful silence af-

ter their excited outburst the people now formed up in lin«, and with, bowed , heads and tear-stained faces filed past the coffin in order to shake hands with the Premier's sons and take their last look at the casket of death. Then they as quietly filed out of the building and made way for their pakeha fellow-mourners. A NORTHERN MAORI TRIBUTE. ! Owing to the death of a daughter of I the Hon Mahuta Tawhiao Te Whero- j whero, M.L.C, that chief and his ] people were unable io attend the tangi in Wellington. At Ms request however, Mr Henare Kaihau, M.H.R., called a meeting of representative chiefs, of the Waikato, Kawhai, Thames and Tauranga district, 'and at this meeting an address of condolence upon the Premier's death wae agreed upon. The Hon J. Carroll has received a copy of the address, which is loag and deeply sympathetic, and couched in' most poetic language. The folio-wing are soane extracts from the "anilu": — "Depart 0 the mooring post of the canoes of the two races! Depart O miglity totara treel You have fallen by the axe- of death (te toki aitua), death the ewallower of greenstone treasures (aitua horo pounamu).. We j retain the words of enlightenment' which you gave us to be a guide and aid in carrying out your great works in alter yeans. It'ishall ever be to us as if you were still among us in the world, directing us. The people- lament and mourn. The .heavens likewise have I cried. The storms the' lightning flashed, the thunder rolled across the sky. Also was heard the soft wind of the crying of the earth. . The great fitormy wind has passed through the forest. The trees are cad; they cry, suffer and groan with pain tor the fall ! of the great totara tree. Afterward j the people know of the death, and inhere is nothing greater than death."