by Lily Ennis
He surveyed the room until he had the full attention of everyone, no more shuffling or coughing.
‘You will each have your chance to speak.’ He shuffled some papers on his desk. ‘You are all before this court on the charge of calculating to breach the peace. I’m going to call each name and I want the defendant to walk forward and say the words guilty or not guilty.’
Archie held Mary’s hand as the list was read out. To a man they boldly stated not guilty. Archie felt sweat bead on his brow as William and Floyd each stepped forward. Mary glanced behind her to Clara who could give birth any day now. Clutching her hand was little Tom. She looked worried and Mary knew the woman would be tormented at this turn of events.
The judge explained the next step. ‘Gentlemen, you have a choice. I am going to bond you to a ten pound suretie for which you must keep the peace. That is, you must abandon your following up practices or forfeit your ten pounds and then answer to a charge of breaching the peace.’
Justice Bellworthy paused to let his words take effect. There was a rumble as the men quickly chatted amongst themselves. A sharp rapping of the gavel brought silence.
‘I will remind you that chatter is not permitted in the courtroom. Should you choose not to take up that option you may defend the charge. The court will adjourn for twenty minutes and when you return I shall have your answers.’
‘Court rise,’ called the clerk.
A knot of men quickly formed around William and Floyd. William cleared his throat before addressing them. ‘I disagree with the charge. To pay a suretie is as good as agreeing with the charge, whether we defend it or not. I’m sure none of us has ten pounds to spare anyway.’ The men grumbled assent.
He continued. ‘We could defend the charge, although we don’t technically agree with it, on the premise that it will draw attention to our struggle on a national and international level. It will also tie up the court for weeks, especially if we defend ourselves.’
The wives and supporters had shuffled forward to hear William speak. Archie pushed in. ‘Men. Be absolutely clear you understand what William is saying. If you are found guilty you will go to gaol. If you pay a suretie right now you will not go to gaol, unless you continue to follow up.’
The men looked back to William.
‘What will you do Mr. Strawbridge?’ asked one of the defendants.
‘I’m not paying a suretie for a charge I disagree with. I shall defend myself and if I go to gaol, then I go for the working man.’
That pleased everyone. Even some of the wives set their faces hard in a stance of resolution.
The judge returned to the clerk’s call for silence.
‘You may be seated. Not you,’ he said to the defendants. ‘Are you decided?’
William stepped forward. ‘I will defend myself, sir.’
That decision was echoed by the forty nine men.
Justice Bellworthy sighed. He should have known that what one man chose the others would follow. ‘This court has no wish to see you all sent to gaol. I have been more than fair in setting the suretie at such a nominal rate. However, it is your right to defend the charge. We will start alphabetically. Arbury, Floyd; Wednesday ten o’clock.’
Justice Bellworthy banged the gavel.
‘Court rise.’
Mary went straight to Clara who had gone pale, and hugged her. ‘It’ll be just fine, Clara,’ Mary whispered. ‘You mustn’t let this upset you.’
Clara began to hyperventilate. Mary pushed her through the crowd to the sidewalk where she gulped in the air. But it wasn’t enough. Clara clutched her stomach and bent double.
‘Is it time, Clara?’
Clara clenched her teeth and grunted. Mary searched the crowd for Isabelle who bustled out of the courtroom on the arm of Ian.
‘Isabelle!’ Mary called. ‘Over here.’
‘Oh, my goodness. Clara!’ Isabelle told Ian to call a carriage. ‘Quickly.’
‘Archie, get Floyd,’ instructed Mary.
‘Breathe, Clara,’ said Mary.
Archie cleared a space around Clara who clutched the hands of Mary and Isabelle. As she panted beads of sweat formed on her brow.
‘Get a cart, a carriage, anything!’ Mary shouted into the crowd.
‘There’s a trap,’ said Archie pointing towards the small horse and buggy tethered outside Mrs. Tattersall’s. He ran off and led it back.
A man appeared running out of the tearooms with a white cloth tucked into his front, still gripping his fork.
‘Hey!’ the man shouted. ‘Come back with my horse.’
It was Howie Wilson, Garrick’s uncle who worked with Joe.
Archie drew into the crowd which parted to let him in then closed behind him blocking the frazzled Howie. The blockage was unnecessary however, as Howie had no intention of wading into a fight. Garrick pushed through to the fringe of the crowd.
‘Emergency, Uncle Howard,’ he said.
Howie smiled a nervous look of relief.
‘Clara’s having a baby,’ Garrick explained. ‘We need to borrow the buggy.’
Howie stuttered. ‘Yes, yes. Of course. You must, you must.’
The girls helped Clara up and Floyd climbed alongside her, flicking the reins.
William, Archie, Ian and Garrick formed a huddle.
‘That was a climatic end to proceedings,’ said William. ‘What say we wet the baby’s head?’
Archie and Ian glanced at Mary and Isabelle who were busy gathering their children around them, including Clara’s Tommy.
‘Call it a strike committee meeting,’ said William already walking away.
* * *
That night the Miners’ Union Hall couldn’t have been any fuller, overflowing with people backed up outside. William stated that he was prepared to go to gaol and until his case was called he would continue to follow up. He urged others to do the same.
Mary couldn’t contain her excitement and she stood to speak. ‘I was in court today. I want to say that I am proud to support such worthy men.’ An applause erupted. ‘I believe that the statement of the police has been given too much weight. The charge of calculating to breach the peace is a nonsense. For example, if I think to myself, I should like to steal a bag of apples, have I actually stolen a bag of apples? No. I have not. I could not possibly be tried of the charge of thinking to steal a bag of apples because the charge is nonsense.’
‘Hear hear.’
‘Our brave boys have been forced to defend this nonsense charge, since if they pay a suretie it would be tantamount to admitting that such a nonsense charge is legal. Ten more police arrived in the town yesterday. Waihi now has fifty policemen, over half of them mounted.’ She laughed. ‘Waihi is either the most protected or the most fearful town in the whole country. Fifty policemen for five thousand citizens? Who will tell me they are not here to incite violence? Does Mr. Massey think we will be intimidated by his blue army? I urge you not to take up arms. Do not touch a policeman. Do not go near a policeman’s mount or you will go to gaol for disturbing the peace.’
Mary let her words wash over the crowd. ‘I want to send our brave boys who were in court today our best wishes. You will do us all proud.’
She sat down to loud applause. Archie gazed at her from the stage, his eyes dancing.
* * *
Mary jostled amongst the throng of picketers, her placard blazoned with ever fiercer slogans. Today it read ‘Don’t be a traitor to your cause.’ The constabulary walked their horses alongside the stream of men making their way from Victoria Battery. Bessie pushed her way to the front and threw an insult to a constable.
‘Was that your sister I saw you shagging last night?’ she shrieked. She stepped in front of the horse and shoved her placard up in the constable’s face, stopping short of hitting him. ‘Oh no. I do beg your pardon. It was your mother.’
Some of the crowd roared with laughter which made Bessie braver.
‘Here!’ she yelled hitching up
her skirts and bending over. ‘See if there’s a charge for this.’ She let the constable get a good view of her bloomers.
‘Bessie!’ Mary scolded.
But the constable only smiled.
Mary pulled Bessie aside. ‘Do you want to get arrested?’
Bessie laughed. ‘Of course I do!’ She spat in the direction of the mounted police. ‘But they don’t have the balls to arrest a woman.’
‘There will only be women left to arrest at the rate the judge is sending our men to gaol,’ moaned Mary.
‘All the more reason,’ said Bessie.
Mary let Bessie sweep along with the crowd. Some of them would follow the workers home. There was a story going around that one house had been under siege for a week. The man’s wife and children were afraid to leave the house as the strikers staked it out. Mary presumed it was the Pickles’ house. The man now had a mounted escort to and from the mine.
Mary found Rose and Isabelle then piled into the carriage for home. Mary sighed. ‘It’s getting heated, ladies. How much more of this before it blows back in our faces?’
Isabelle splayed her legs out in front of her and groaned as she tried to get comfortable, her tummy bulging in front of her.
Rose nodded at Isabelle. ‘You should start taking it easy,’ she said. ‘Never mind the rest of us.’
Isabelle grimaced as she recalled Clara giving birth before her time. Of course Clara would let the turgid events upset her; she was a delicate thing. Poor Clara was so frightened and the baby came so quickly. She was a tiny seven pounds and they’d made Clara stay in hospital until they deemed baby Amy strong enough to go home. Clara hadn’t been doing much with the girls since then.
But Isabelle believed she was made of stronger stuff. She dismissed Rose’s comment.
‘We need to box clever,’ Mary continued. ‘There’s plenty the likes of Bessie that can continue this monkey business. We’re better than this. Isabelle and I, we can speak all over the country. That’s what we should be doing. Not taunting policemen trying to get arrested along with our men.’
Isabelle threw her head back. ‘Quite right. If our men go to gaol then we have to step up and take their place. They won’t be able to do anything in gaol.’
‘Are we agreed then?’ asked Mary. ‘We give it a rest. Wait and see what happens in court?’
‘I think so,’ said Isabelle.
‘Me too,’ said Rose.
* * *
As they rode into town there was a commotion outside the picture show hall. A noisy crowd spilled out onto the road. Cowering against the wall of the building was a knot of engine drivers.
Bartie was boldly defending their right to go to the pictures just as the strikers had every right to. Sam kept his head down and his hands firmly in his pockets. He was happy enough for Bartie to take control. Hell, if the numbers were even he would take them on. It was high time some of his frustration was vented.
Sam knew Bartie was having a hard time trying to stay calm. Bartie wasn’t the sort you sat down and had a chat with; he liked to use his fists. But the man wasn’t stupid. This was a big crowd and they were itching for some action.
It wasn’t long before the police arrived and the crowd dispersed, allowing the engine drivers to beat a retreat. Nevertheless it was a win to the strikers who pledged to boycott the picture show hall for as long as Jonesy sold tickets to engine drivers.
Mary caught up with Sam and they walked home together.
‘I’m sorry about that, Sam.’
Sam grunted. ‘Can’t do anything. I’m sick of this place. The company’s taking on plenty of men to work in the treatment plant at Waikino but they won’t take me. You’d think us engine drivers had the plague or something. Funny how a miner can be a scab but oh no, not an engine driver.’
It started to spit. Mary pulled her jacket collar up and quickened her step. ‘Come on,’ she said. ‘Race you.’
* * *
It was court day and the heavens opened. The rain hung on Mary like a bad omen. She had risen early as always and set the coal range going for her mother before heading to Archie’s. On the way she dropped a food basket inside the fence of number six Union Street and picked up the empty one.
Archie was up and getting Fanny ready for school when Mary arrived, the lower half of her skirt damp and muddy. She shook herself like a cat.
‘You haven’t been picketing in the rain!’ Archie exclaimed.
Mary frowned. ‘Of course not.’ She pulled Fanny towards her and retied the enormous bow in the girl’s hair. ‘Besides, I’m giving that up for a while. Until we see what happens with these charges.’
Archie sighed. ‘I’m glad to hear it.’
‘Are you?’
‘Yes I am, darling. I worry about you.’
‘You don’t have to worry.’
Archie drew Mary in to him. ‘I don’t have to, but I do.’ He kissed her.
‘Yuck,’ said Fanny screwing up her face.
‘Come on, miss,’ said Mary. ‘Let’s get you to school.’ She turned to Archie. ‘And you put your best suit on, Mr. Wright. We don’t want Justice Bellworthy thinking we’re an easy touch.’
Archie had met with the strike committee the previous evening. William and Floyd were more than ready to have their day in court. William was more ready than Floyd to go to gaol. They agreed that should gaol loom large on the horizon, Archie and Ian should act as president and vice-president respectively.
Mary returned slightly agitated. ‘Crowds are gathering already, Archie. The street’s thick with umbrellas.’ She brushed rain off her shoulders. ‘I don’t think we’ll get inside the court.’
‘We’ll get in, sweetheart,’ Archie replied. ‘Strike committee has privilege.’
With Thomas walking between them they slowly made their way up to the main street. A cool breeze funnelled between the buildings carrying sheets of rain with it. But it didn’t stop nearly a thousand people turning out. The constabulary was prominent, marching their horses around the outside of the supporters.
Archie hoisted Thomas onto his shoulders and told Mary to take his elbow as he pushed a way through the throng. They found a place to stand near the back of the court.
Mary scanned the room. Many of those seated were the wives and children of the defendants. She recognised Jack, Percy’s friend, and when she caught his eye she crossed her fingers for him. He looked away, embarrassed.
Justice Bellworthy brought the court to order and proceeded to hear each defendant defend his own charges. It was a protracted exercise with the judge having to guide the defendant where he was wont to be grievously side tracked.
Finally William was called. Not a word was spoken while he presented his case.
‘I took no part in a demonstration where jostling and following Arbitrationists occurred,’ he said. ‘The union’s instructions are clear on that. Strikers are under instruction to observe law and order and I contend that those instructions have been adhered to. The following up of engine drivers has never been authorised by the union or the strike committee. Any following up was the action of individual members of the union. The strikers were under control. They have never been out of control. As union president I have not lost control over the men. I believe that a number of free labourers are coming into the town and that union members may feel compelled to educate these labourers.’
A chuckle ran through the courtroom.
‘Quiet,’ said the judge. ‘Mr. Strawbridge, would you or your committee approve of engine drivers or others following you and blandishing remarks like scab and smelly and various other expressions, holding their noses as they passed?’
‘That kind of thing would not be approved of but it is difficult to prevent people putting their hand to their nose,’ William replied.
‘Can you recall whether your strike committee has dealt with any such behaviour?’ asked the judge.
‘The strike committee has not.’
Justice Bellworthy sighed heavi
ly and leaned back in his chair. He slipped off his spectacles and rubbed his brow.
‘Mr. Strawbridge,’ he began. ‘Do you not think it would be more appropriate to arrange one or two of your members to meet the men you wish to convert, rather than following them around in large crowds? Take a frightened man like Mr. Leggot for instance. He would hardly be a fit subject to argue with and try to convert. I propose that it is advisable to discourage the strikers as a body, from following up tactics.’
William couldn’t let that go. ‘There are various reasons, your honour, that the Bench would not be aware, for special tactics on the part of the strikers.’
‘I can’t wait to hear. Do go on,’ said the judge.
‘It is not always safe for our members to go directly to the people. Traps may be laid. It has happened in other parts of the world. We must guard against that sort of thing.’
‘Indeed,’ Justice Bellworthy muttered. ‘Mr. Strawbridge, the recent influx of police into Waihi would have some effect on the tactics of your men. What future action will the union take in view of this police presence?’
‘Our instructions stand the same, your Honour,’ William answered. ‘Any man is entitled to stop another man in the street and speak to him.’
‘Nobody denies that,’ Justice Bellworthy replied. ‘Do you intend to adopt the same tactics as in the past?’
‘It all depends on what you mean by tactics. I am still in favour of the men using legitimate argument, meeting the others and walking along with them.’
‘You put no limit on numbers? You are just as much in favour of hundreds as two?’
‘I don’t see how we are going to get over the difficulty.’
‘What directions do you give the men who go down to Waikino?’
‘Various and numerous.’
‘What do you tell them?’
‘The strike committee gives advice and instructions.’
‘In an address to the children in Waihi, did you say that in some countries men like engine drivers would be tarred and feathered?’
‘No. I did not.’
‘What will you do to prevent further objectionable occurrences, Mr. Strawbridge?’
‘Sir, it is too hard to take steps to prevent these occurrences. I don’t believe they are offences. I will however, in the event that members of the union congregate in large crowds and argue the point with police or others, I will call upon them to disband,’
