HAPPENINGS IN THE CAPITAL.

Gisborne Times, Volume XXII, Issue 1789, 21 June 1906, Page 3

HAPPENINGS IN THE CAPITAL.

THE MIGHTY DEAD.

(By Punelove.)

Wellington. 3 jAcross tho wintor sunshino of a perfect morniug lloatod tho rumor of the Premier’s sudden doatli on board the Oswestry Grange. It passod from lip to lip till Wellington streets wore dotted with knots of gravo-faced folk, talking over the sad tidings. To many it was a personal shock. One has got so accustomed to think of Mr Seddon as part and parcel of tho nation—the contve of our l-'ttlo world—that it sooruod incredible that such a strong, magnetic personality should have been blotted out of existence. Some of his i own people were told tho nows later. Indeed, it is roportod one of his children heard it in the street. His youngest daughter was at the dentist’s, I but, with commendable presence o mind, he drove her home, under some pretext, before she could learn her loss. To Mr Tom Seddon, Mr David Findlay, in whoso office he is, spoke of bad news of his father, and he too went homo, probably guessing tho worst. Miss Seddon was working in the Parliamentary Buildings some time [ after tho town was rife with tho news. She has been quite overwhelmed with hor loss, for, being so near always to her father in his life and she feels terribly tho bereavement. Mr Sodden was a much-loved husband and father, and his children were de* voted to him. During his trip the great additions to his house, approved by him but never to be seen by him, have been going on steadily, and judging from the outside are almost finished. But the cheery business of the workmen is silenced now, and the

big house looks strangely quiet and desolate. It seems incredible that Mr Seddon’s burly, handsum* figure—carried for all his stoutness with an a’r that forced notice and admiration—will never again bo seen strolling down Golde/s Hill from his garden gate to Parliament. Of late he rarely drove, but walked, or in the dusk of the evening, in the dinner adjournment, rode for a little.

It was interesting to watch his passage to the portico of Parliament Por hours men of all sorts and conditions might be seen sauntering about in an aimless way, keeping a wary eye for the Premier. When he came he was often intercepted four or five times by petitioners, and, as a rule, gave them a patient hearing. An old Westcoaster would be cordially greeted with a tremendous hand-shake, and often Mr Seddon would stand and chat cheerily for a long time, his hearty laugh ringing out across the road. Apart from Parliament, which it is impossible to picture without him, he was a stately figure at all ceremonials, one impossible to be overlooked. At a Government House dance he was as young and far less blase than most of the men, danced with a lightsome grace that was astonishing. Even those who did not admire him felt his great charm when face to face with him. If anything can at all alleviate the sorrow his family are feeling, it should be the universal sympathy and grief. Signs of . mourning in dress and in the decorations of the shops are general, and the telegrams, letters, cards, and callers at the Ministerial residence have been countless. Even the Maoris are wearing wreaths of green —their primitive I token of grief—about their panamas and bowler hats. I

TOKENS OP MOURNING.

Wellington abounds in visible signs of grief. The Government Buildings are particularly noticeable in their sable trappings. Indeed the scheme carried out in Parliament buildings is aggressively gloomy, the lower part of the front being painted dull black, picked out with white rosettes and green wreaths. The statue of John Ballance had a black scarf about its breast—but later on it was taken off

—and the pedestal is covered with black cloth, while streamers float from each • electric light standard on the drive. The Premier’s magnificent head, cruelly libelled in some instances, appears in almost every shop-window, draped or wreathed, with more or less appropriate mottoes added, some of which border on bathos. One florist’s windows have been thronged, for their display of funeral wreaths was wonderful, though owing to the season, of course mainly artificial flowers or immortelles had to be used. A very large photograph of Mr Seddon addressing the Wairarapa electors at Dalefield on the land question was particularly striking, and attracted much notice in Whiteomb-Tomb’s window. It shows finely the strenuous, forcible manner of the late Premier when speaking on great questions. This week all functions have been postponed. Mrs Riddiford, of the Hutt, was giving a large At Home as a farewell to Mrs Babington, but, of course, cancelled the invitations. Miss Richmond was giving a children’s party in the new house in Hobson street, but it was postponed.

THE HOME-COMING- OF THE PREMIER.

Still, with most who speak of the dead, it is—if not “ Dick,” tout court —the Premier, although his power nov rests in other hands. It was with a feeling of vague incomprehension we read in a paper last week that “ the Premier ” had delivered some ultimatum. It will not be easy to transfer the title to Mr Hall-Jones all at once.

It was a calm, star-lit night when the Oswestry Grange, with no noise save the clang of the telegraph, was brought alongside the wharf. Although aftor midnight a crowd had collected outside the barriers. One o’clot k had struck before the coffin had been got on to the hearse, and it had started for the house amid the thunder of the salute of twenty guns that sounded with terrific force in the night silence. I watched the mournful little procession creeping up Moles worth street—the hearse, a few followers, and half-a-dozen cab3—past the sabledecked Parliament Brtlldings to the house he filled so full with his virile personality. The bells tolled, a Maori long-drawn wail rang through the darkness, and tho great guns roared and echoed away among the hills. The family had gone on before to receive their dead. Eolations, his and Mrs Seddon’s, had gathered from far and near, one in a common grief. Until she was quite near home Mrs Seddon had borne up bravely, but the voyage must have been terribly sad. Miss May Seddon was wonderful in her unselfish devotion. Many members have arrived, and of course all tho Ministers were on the wharf awaiting the home-coming of their late chief. Mr Duncan is particularly broken down at his loss of a personal friend as well as his political general. All day on Sunday people flocked to Parliament House to gaze, talk in hushed tones, and pass on. On Sunday morning Mrs Seddon had been naturally too upset to discuss the question of a burial place,[but later in the day it was decided that the funeral should take place on Thursday, that he (should lio in stato -for come timo in

Parliament Buildings,. and that his grave should be on a site oloso to tho cemetery in Bolt*n stroot, on an eminomco, used as a weathor observatory, that overlooks tho city whoro lie passod so many strenuous yoars.