‘Outrageous!’ someone shrieked and the room filled with hoots and hollers as the defendants were shuffled out the side door.
William glanced back to Jack, who held Catherine’s hand as the little girl cried then he and the others hustled into a waiting police carriage. Police horses surrounded them keeping the protestors at bay. Shouts rang out.
‘Travesty of justice,’
‘This isn’t the end.’
‘Don’t worry, William. The fight is in good hands.’
As the carriage made its way through Waihi to the train station supporters ran after it picking up passers-by along the way. Archie and Ian found themselves caught up in the fever. The mounted police trotted alongside taunting the crowd.
At last the carriage drew up to the platform followed closely by the fittest runners in the crowd. The horses stamped their feet and snorted. The noisy crowd descended on them along with the police.
Archie finally caught up. ‘Easy lads. You know what they want and they’re not going to get it.’
He tugged at a man, hauling him clear of hooves as the police cleared a space for the defendants to be escorted out of the carriage and onto the train. At the sight of the men Ian called for three cheers for the martyrs to the working class.
Archie was shoved from behind as a figure pushed through to the front. ‘Hey, sweetheart,’ he yelled.
Archie reached after her.
‘Daddy,’ she called.
Archie lifted Catherine onto his shoulders and she wailed at the unhearing train as it carried her father away.
* * *
The men were silent as the train made its way out of town. They’d each expected gaol. In a way it was a compliment that the police thought William had so much clout that it would be dangerous to house him overnight. Still, it was a wrench to be taken so quickly from the children. At least it was no surprise what they were going to. That removed some of the angst. William wondered if he’d done enough for the children, leaving them in the care of the housekeeper. He studied the faces of his mates. He guessed that they too were thinking of their wives and children.
The train wound its way through newly cleared farmland before snaking through the Karangahake Gorge. As they passed through Waikino he was heartened to see a few picketers, unrelenting in their mission and cheering at the train as it went by. William raised his shackled hands to the windows.
It wasn’t long before the train slowed and pulled into Paeroa. Surprisingly, a small contingent of supporters waited on the platform. Heartened, the prisoners thanked them until they felt the thick end of a baton, as the police herded them to the Fathers Hotel.
‘You’re here for the night,’ they were told as they were locked in a room.
William let the blind roll up with a reverberating flap and peered outside. Demonstrators had gathered outside the hotel and were exchanging banter with the police guards.
‘We’re getting special attention, boys,’ said William. ‘Our overnight stay will give the Federation time to organise a proper welcome for us in Auckland.’ He laughed. ‘They’re playing right into our hands and they don’t realise it.’
The picketers camped out all night and in the morning the prisoners were loaded back onto a train bound for the Thames.
The train pulled into the station to a small rally of muted support. A reporter from the Thames Star pleaded for a quote from William, who obliged.
‘Tell ‘em we’re proud to go to gaol to highlight the injustices to the working man,’ he bellowed staunchly.
The police moved the prisoners along to Shortland Wharf where they boarded the steamer Wakatere and set sail for Auckland.
* * *
The Wakatere pulled alongside the wharf at three o’clock. Only ever a fair weather sailor, William was relieved to finally dock, having spent most of the journey saying his prayers to Neptune. It took quite some time to realise that the biggest crowd he’d ever seen in his life had assembled to greet them; to see him. Behind a police cordon were three thousand people, most in suits; watersiders.
Cedric Glassmore, a wily Federation executive and member of the Transport Workers’ Union, mounted a high pile of copra bags to stand head and shoulders above the assembly.
‘We are all here to welcome you boys,’ he shouted to the disembarking prisoners. ‘We’ve knocked off work for the day. Three cheers for the working class victims of the big class struggle.’
There was no opportunity for the prisoners to bask in their glory. They were quickly transferred into a waiting cab.
‘Shame on the police for not lettin’ you appreciate the extraordinary turnout today.’
The crowd booed.
‘Cheer up lads,’ Cedric continue. ‘You have the support of three thousand stood here before you and a hundred times that number up and down the country.’
The carriage moved off with a file of police walking along each side, all armed with batons. William shook his shackled hands at the carriage window.
‘We will win,’ he shouted.
* * *
Mary kissed Archie goodbye at the station and gathered a knot of children around her. The mothers yelled last minute instructions as Archie herded them aboard. For some it was their first visit to the gaol. They were heartened that the men had already been visited by former Waihi miners, now living in Auckland. Nevertheless, the thought of Mt Eden gaol sent shudders through them. It was rumoured to be cold, dark damp.
From first glance the prison was every bit as forbidding as its reputation. Its impregnable stone palisade shouted to the onlooker that within its walls was no place for the faint hearted. Only the hardest murderers and thieves would stand a chance in here.
The group was led across the compound to the building. It was the first time since leaving home the women could find nothing to say. After waiting an inordinate length of time they finally were allowed to see their husbands.
The men appeared in good spirits but there was something about their surroundings that made them look gaunt and pasty. Most of them had only been in a few days.
Archie spoke with William and Floyd through iron bars.
‘Mary’s mother has been given notice,’ Archie said. ‘There’s a new mine manager coming.’
Floyd blew a stream of air out his mouth. ‘They must have a workforce organised.’
Archie shook his head. ‘We’ve not officially been told. No one’s called a meeting.’
‘You’re going to have to, Archie,’ said William. ‘If they think they’re going to open the mine with black legs they’ll have a dirty fight on their hands.’
Archie suddenly jumped as something scuttled across his foot. ‘What was that?’
‘Rat,’ said Floyd.
‘There’s more,’ said Archie. ‘The strike levies are dropping significantly. Seems the Auckland Tramways Union is having a hell of a job collecting it from its members. Some members haven’t paid a penny from the beginning.’
‘How’s Clara?’ Floyd cut in. ‘She’s never been alone before.’
‘Clara’s fine. And so is the baby. Spitting image of you, she is.’
The men forced a laughed.
‘What shall I tell her?’ asked Archie. ‘I can’t tell her how awful you look!’ Archie shuffled. ‘Anyway, twenty more cases have been heard. They played the court for a fool saying they would find sureties if they were given until the following morning. But come the next day they each said they’d changed their mind and would have to accept the alternative and go to gaol. It took the judge by surprise. He gave the court a lecture saying that the men were fighting for misguided principles. He said they were scaring the public with abusive behaviour that had nothing to do with the struggle. He got quite snarky. He said for them to change their minds about the sureties did not hint at much strength of mind, that it must be a glorious band of heroes who wanted to uphold the glorious principles to follow up, annoy and intimidate people.’
‘We’ll be about forty five in here then,
’ said William. ‘Don’t you get into trouble, Archie. We need good men on the outside.’
‘Don’t worry. I’ll not be joining you. I have to admit though, it doesn’t do us any harm to have our president and his number two in gaol.’
The gaoler called for time and Archie took his leave joining the women to be escorted back outside. There were tears from a couple. As Archie looked away he told himself he’d be blowed if he’d put Mary through this.
* * *
Mary took all the children to Nell’s then spent a couple of hours in the court house. To the next batch of defendants the magistrate assured them that there was no intention to stop them picketing, and the police would not interfere in their legal right to do so.
Finn O’Hara, a man Mary thought liked the sound of his own voice a bit too much, explained to the court that after reviewing the situation carefully he had come to the conclusion that it would be folly to enter a bond on account of the aggressive attitude of the police. If he bowed or smiled at a policeman, or made any chance remark to his personal beauty, a summons followed and his bond forfeited.
To that Justice Bellworthy uttered that it was untrue and absolute nonsense. It was merely an attempt to justify the attitude taken. He asked the Police Commissioner, Frederick Redfern, to clarify the position of the police.
‘The police will at all costs maintain law and order,’ said Mr. Redfern. ‘The police will protect anyone who wants to work no matter who it is, free labourers or Federationists. The police will remain in Waihi for as long as they are wanted sand more police are ready to come at any moment; it’s only a matter of sending a telegram.’
Some factions of the gallery scoffed until the magistrate’s gavel cracked a ring in the air.
Mary had heard enough. This was nothing more than a farce. Putting on her coat she left the courtroom and proceeded to Nell’s.
The sound of the children singing greeted Mary. Nell sat at the piano unaware that Mary had returned and stood in the doorway watching them. Nell really was a beautiful woman, Mary thought. It was easy to see how her father loved her. And she seemed at home with the children. She wondered if Nell had wanted her own.
The music stopped.
‘Mary! I didn’t see you there. How was court?’
‘More of the same, I’m afraid. How about you?’ Mary glanced at the children.
‘I didn’t know what else to do with them,’ Nell laughed.
As Mary gathered up the children Nell whispered, ‘Thank you, Mary,’
By the time Mary and the children reached the train station Clara was on the platform gently rocking the perambulator back and forth. Mary pulled the baby’s blanket back and Amy stared at her with big blue eyes.
Mary felt Clara’s hand on her arm. ‘Mary,’ said Clara in a hushed voice. ‘I hadn’t noticed before.’ She pointed to Mary’s hand.
Mary smiled. ‘You’ve got a lot to think about. No reason for you to notice. She held her hand out. ‘It was Archie’s first wife’s. But it’s all right. What else could he do right now?’
‘You’re a brick, Mary,’ said Clara,’ to think of it like that.’
Mary sighed. ‘These are trying times. I take the good wherever I can.’
‘Did Rose get her skirt back?’
‘I don’t know.’
The girls laughed.
‘I bet she didn’t deliver to the Portman’s again,’ said Clara.
Suddenly it dawned on them. Rose wouldn’t have. That meant the Portman family probably didn’t have any food. Mr. Portman was an easy target for following up and quite often demonstrators would camp outside the home, laying siege to the entire family.
‘I’ll get onto it,’ Mary replied.
‘Here comes the train,’ one of the children shouted.
Soon the platform was bustling with news of the incarcerated men. Archie reassured Clara about Floyd, careful not to mention Floyd’s lack of adjustment to the appalling conditions.
Archie took Mary’s arm and escorted her back to his house where she had piles of notes and magazines strewn over the table.
‘Isabelle and I are giving a speech in Auckland on Saturday evening,’ Mary explained.
Archie embraced Mary. ‘You are such a clever girl. I can’t believe how lucky I am.’
Mary tilted her head to accept his kiss. She melted into him, thrilling to the touch of his body, and his masculine scent. She reluctantly broke away, smoothing her hands down her sides.
‘I must get on,’ she said clearing away her papers.
Archie lightly cleared his throat. ‘You could work here.’
Mary smiled then planted a kiss on his cheek before sailing out of the room. ‘You are a distraction.’
Chapter Twenty Three
Ian insisted on accompanying Isabelle so Archie decided to go too. Ian saw it as an opportunity to lay the ground for his own political future, not that Mary or Archie minded: it added weight to the line up of speakers.
By the time they arrived in Auckland the event had ballooned to a fully organised Federation of Labour meeting. Jim had several speakers lined up to support the women and Archie and Ian would also say a few words.
‘I hope we get a good turn out,’ said Mary. ‘Jim’s gone to such great lengths.’ She wrung her hands.
Isabelle rubbed her bulging stomach. ‘This isn’t the Thames Union Hall, Mary,’ she replied. ‘We’ve got good weather, a day off and the best support possible. I’ll bet we get people turning up just to be entertained.’
‘And it’s up to you to gain their support,’ Archie added.
Mary needn’t have agonised. Jim had made the right call to host the event outdoors and many of the five thousand attendees had made a picnic of the occasion, arriving well before the start. However, as more and more people arrived a different anxiety filled Mary. There was nearly the equivalent to the whole town of Waihi and she had to get up in front of them and talk. Her stomach was in knots and she found she couldn’t talk, even to Archie who held her hand tightly.
Jim mounted the makeshift stage and thanked Auckland for their ardent support. The crowd was indeed receptive. After addresses by members of the Federation and the union it was the turn of Mary and Isabelle.
Mary was thankful that the men had paved the way, that they’d read the crowd and prepared the listeners to receive the women well. Mary’s mouth was as dry as a clog but it was Isabelle who took control, positively loving the power she seemed to have.
‘I have the luxury,’ Isabelle boomed, ‘yes, luxury of a husband not sent to gaol on the dubious charge of conspiring to breach the peace.’
She took hold of Mary’s hand and held it aloft. ‘Can you believe that dozens of Waihi women are without their husbands tonight, tomorrow night, next week? Women who have done nothing wrong, now forced to take their husband’s place. The company thinks that by sending striking miners to gaol is a victory for them. We say it is not, for every husband sent down, a wife stands in his stead, defiant and obstinate.’
To Mary’s surprise the women in the audience immediately rose to their feet and clapped. Isabelle smiled and muttered to Mary. ‘Go on. Doesn’t matter what you say, Mary. They’re with us.’
Mary cast a glance to Archie who nodded to her. She took a hesitant step forwards.
‘We are no different to you,’ Mary began. ‘Wives, daughters, mothers. This strike has split families, wrecked lives, created uncertainty where before there was none. Where there used to be one men’s choir there is now two: one for the striking Federationists and one for those without principles. Where there was once a happy school we now have parents withdrawing children. Friendships of innocent children are broken because we, the adults, say so.
‘Who amongst you would wear our shoes?’
Mary paused. Not a single soul replied.
‘Who amongst you would not support your husband one hundred percent for the right for better pay, for better working conditions, safer working conditions, for the right to
strike? I look at you gathered here today, whole families safe in the knowledge of secure employment, beautiful, happy families enjoying a picnic in this utopian land, and I know that you are with me, with my colleague, Isabelle McCardie, and with the embattled striking miners of Waihi. I know that by coming here today you understand that the battle we fight at Waihi is merely part of a greater war. I invite you to witness with your own eyes the tremendous numbers of police that the Massey government has sent to our small town. It is on the one hand a great honour that he thinks us so powerful that he needs to send ten percent of the entire country’s police force to protect the Arbitrationists and on the other, insulting that he believes that the principled Federationists are unable to articulate their concerns in a seemly fashion and thus need to protect the rest of the town.’
Mary let the words sink in. She’d lost the hollow feeling in her stomach. She glanced at Isabelle who smiled at her. She was euphoric.
‘I invite you to join us in a march to Mt Eden gaol.’
Isabelle stepped forward plunging her great belly to a profile the crowd would appreciate. She carefully supported the bulge.
‘I’ll walk with you, Mary.’ She smiled and again took Mary’s hand and held it up. Ian and Archie took the cue and joined the women, taking their hands and presenting a picture of determined unity for the Auckland audience.
A light rain put a damper on proceedings as the Federation executive and the Waihi party made their way slowly to the gaol, losing about three thousand enroute. Never one to let an opportunity pass, Jim proposed a motion protesting against the imprisonment of the strikers. It was passed amongst much cheering and booing.
An even larger crowd assembled the following afternoon when some twelve thousand people turned out. Mary and Isabelle, buoyed by the success of yesterday spoke longer and stronger. Again a resolution was passed: the Auckland workers demanded the release of the Waihi strikers in gaol, whose only crime had been loyalty and duty to their own class. They unhesitatingly endorsed their action in going to gaol rather than be placed under police supervision with all its pernicious liberty snatching, and pledged themselves to act in whatever manner was deemed advisable.