William Massey laid to rest

Clouds hung over the city as a pall as the great leader of New Zealand was borne from the scene of his life’s labour. It was a day in keeping with the solemnity of the occasion — still and peaceful. The heavy rain of the forenoon by midday had given place to calm. The busy, bustling town had suddenly become quiet with the shuttered silence of a Sabbath morning, broken only by the sound of people moving quietly towards Parliament House. From before noon there was a steady procession, and by 1 o’clock there were thousands waiting upon the slopes and streets adjoining Parliament House. In patient stillness they watched, and with a reverent silence took their part in the solemn and simple service with which the last rites commenced. Then, while men bared their head the bier was slowly borne down the steps in a silence broken only by the strains of the "Dead March" and the mournful tolling of the bell. A ten minutes’ silence had been requested, but it was for much more than 10 minutes that the waiting lines of people stood quietly by while the cortege passed slowly along the noiseless streets. From balconies and windows, as well as from the pathways, many thousands watched the slowly-moving procession. 

Thus the mortal remains of the leader beloved of all passed from the halls where he had led the councils of the nation to a last resting place on the silent height of Point Halswell. On the arrival of the hearse at Point Halswell the pallbearers, comprising 11 petty officers of the Royal Navy, removed the casket from the hearse and placed it on the gun carriage and marched behind it to the barrier. They lifted the coffin from the gun carriage at the barrier and carried it to and subsequently, lowered it into the grave. The gun carriage, when the coffin had been placed upon it, was drawn to the barrier by a party of 23 noncommissioned officers of the Royal New Zealand Artillery and New Zealand Permanent Staff, and the pallbearers followed behind.

Haere, haere, haere, haere atu ra

An hour before the funeral procession representatives of the Maori race, led by their aged chieftain, gathered round the catafalque, and with that eloquence which has ever been an outstanding feature of the Native peoples paid tribute to their departed leader. Maoris, with heads bowed and hearts saddened by the loss of a leader who was also a friend, were led by the Minister of Native Affairs (the Hon J.G. Coates), the Minister of Public Health (the Hon Sir Maui Pomare), Mr H.W. Uru (the member for the Southern Maori District), Mita Taupopoki (of Rotorua), representing the Arawas, Tamaiwhiua Rawhiri (of Thames), and Rere Nicholson (representing the Ngatiruakawa tribe). There was an impressive silence as Mita Taupopoki approached the rail surrounding the bier. 

In a strong voice which at times shook with emotion he delivered an eloquent oration, eulogising in well-chosen and picturesque language the work of the departed statesman. There were times when his voice reached a high pitch and rang through the mighty corridors of Parliament, and many of the sentiments which he expressed found a responsive chord in the hearts of his hearers, who joined with their chieftain. 

Briefly translated, Mita’s oration was as follows: "Ye sons of the departed Prime Minister, we greet you who remain. Great is the grief of the Maori race on this day because of the old man who lies here. His noble works for Maori and pakeha alike will ever remain. Farewell, O greatest of Prime Ministers, in love, in action, in law-making, and in all the attributes which make a great man. Farewell. Farewell. Farewell. Farewell." — by ODT Wellington correspondent — ODT, 15.5.1925

Compiled by Peter Dowden