A Ceremony

Te Ao Hou, March 1969, Page 48

A Ceremony The 125th anniversary of the signing of the Treaty of Waitangi is a special occasion for those who are Maori and European. Sailors in their white uniforms and officers in black, congregate around the treaty house. The glittering swords of officers in uniform have their effect on the younger generation. Small boys march behind their ‘phantoms’ and stop as they stop. Suddenly, the hustle and bustle is over-taken by quietness. The open air is the mansion of those seated in it and the eyes of all turn to study that which has caused the silence. The New Zealand flag is hoisted to the top of the giant flagstaff, and the brittle stillness is broken by the sound of yelling trumpets and groaning French horns. The naval orchestra sends music to those who attend the ceremony for the first time, and rewelcomes those who have attended the ceremony several times. The music stops and a Maori warrior sends shrieks of anger to an intruding character. He leaps from the ground to the rhythm of singing women. Silence returns in contrast with the shrieking voice of the warrior, and, as if hypnotized, a tall figure steps slowly from the crowd, the plumes in his hat drifting in the direction of the wind, like that of an 18th Century Frenchman. His sword swings freely on his white uniform covered waist, swishing gently against his thigh. The monocle hiding in his left eye, glitters in the failing light of the passing day. His moustache bristles in the evening breeze, and his feet shuffle on the wooden planks as he rises onto the pulpit. With the help of a handsome officer, he is seated into a wooden chair, beside which are members of parliament and important speakers. Everyone stares in awe at the tall figure, and one can almost hear what they are saying. The speaker, Sir Turi Caroll, welcomes those who are worthy of being welcomed. His shaky voice bleats the words of wisdom into the minds of those listening. Then Sir Bernard Fergusson in white uniform speaks to those who can understand Maori, then to those who speak the English language. The subject of equality appears invisibly but audibly in his speech, and the history of the Treaty of Waitangi is told for the 125th time in 125 years. A shadow suddenly appears before those who are superstitious as, like ghosts, the lighted ships in the harbour drift as though in fresh air. The guns are lit to the very tip and the flags on the ships' bows are luminous in the dark night. The band begins to play, and the ceremony slowly loses its excitement as time takes control. The slow movement of tired guests is heard as the ceremony concludes.

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