Scarlet Runner

by Lily Ennis

  ‘Archie Wright is a martyr!’ Jim waved a fist in the air. ‘Show the government that we remain solid. Be at Archie’s funeral. Don’t let Archie Wright’s death go unnoticed.’

  * * *

  Jack held his sister’s hand as he and Errol waited outside the prison gates with a mob of Federationists. All sixty three incarcerated strikers were released on sureties to keep the peace.

  The gaoler heaved the gate open and the men followed William out. A cheer went up and families reunited. Wives commented on how skinny and worn their men looked. Jack, Errol and Catherine ran to their father.

  William immediately took control, noting some of the strike committee and strikers in the crowd.

  ‘Thank you for the welcome, good people of Waihi. I want you to know that all strikers and their families who are in need of assistance, monetary or otherwise, may apply to the strike committee which is now set up in Auckland. If you have family or friends wishing to leave Waihi tickets can be obtained from Auckland, Thames or the intermediate stations on application to the stationmaster at Waihi. The Federation has put up a substantial sum to enable this to happen. No stone is being left unturned by the organisation to marshal our forces in Auckland.’

  ‘William!’ It was Ian pushing through the assembly. The two men shook hands. ‘Can I have a word?’ He turned to address the families.

  ‘Ernie Hardcastle is giving an address tomorrow evening on the recent occurrences at Waihi. I urge you to attend. I can tell you now however, that he stated yesterday to the press that most of our wives and children have made it out and that the Federation is committed to seeing justice done for those who have been outlawed from this country and belted out of our homes. The Federation will make it clear to the Dominion that the treatment meted out to us is an outrage on modern civilisation. But for all those injustices we will not be crushed. The strikers remain strong and the company, who now have only thirty trained miners in a potential workforce of seven hundred, are hopelessly defeated.’

  There was little comment from the crowd as families reunited outside the prison walls.

  William was dragged away to the train by the children but he was soon assailed by the strike committee.

  ‘It’s good to see you, Will,’ said Garrick. ‘Can anything be done for Mary? She’s not entitled to any money. She was to marry Archie. But, well, she’s in a bind now.’

  William screwed his face up. ‘Where is she?’

  ‘Staying with a family in Parnell. Most of us are. Single people I mean.’

  ‘We owe her something,’ William agreed. ‘I’ll work on it.’

  * * *

  Mary sat in the parlour of the cottage chewing the end of her pen as she tried to think of what to say to her mother. The black skirt and blouse she wore were stiff; she hadn’t worn or washed them enough yet to soften the dressing in the fabric. They brought back memories of her father’s funeral, and her father. She hated them for it.

  A stiff breeze hammered at the windows. She glanced outside. The day was bright, blue and fresh. Funny, she couldn’t remember Waihi ever being like this.

  She could hear activity in the other rooms. An ex-Waihi family had taken her in and Annabelle had instructed the children not to disturb Miss Bell, with her being in mourning. But she wouldn’t mind being disturbed; perhaps it would take her mind off Archie. She doubted it.

  What was her mother going through? Her only daughter exiled. For that’s what Mary decided she was. It felt hollow. Shouldn’t a fighter for a worthwhile cause be almost triumphant in exile?

  Mary paced the room. She still couldn’t eat; hadn’t eaten properly since the incident. She refused to refer to it as a shooting. It wasn’t proved that Archie had shot anyone and she steadfastly refused to believe that he had.

  Finally she dipped her pen in the ink and tried again.

  Dearest mother,

  I’m sorry for the way things have turned out. It could never have been anticipated. Events escalated very quickly, as I’m sure you are aware.

  You mustn’t worry about me. I’m staying with a Waihi family in Parnell for a short time.

  Archie’s funeral is tomorrow. It cannot come soon enough. I am lost without him.

  As she wrote these words tears fell and trailed the ink on the letter. Sobbing, she put down her pen and walked away from the desk. She walked to the window and stared out, not seeing the irises bending to the breeze or the leaves gently fluttering from the silk tree.

  Mary’s thoughts were of Archie; she recalled their first kiss, then every sweet kiss they’d shared. And his embraces; oh how he made her hot with desire. She wondered if he knew what his touch did to her. She clutched her arms around her, almost as though it was Archie holding her. Oh, why, why didn’t they share each other? Now she’d never have what was most special. How she wished she’d given herself to him, and now she never would. He’d made her so happy.

  ‘Archie,’ she murmured. ‘Archie.’

  She let the tears fall as she collapsed into an armchair feeling more alone than ever.

  * * *

  Sybil elbowed Mary aside as she vied for the front row of the funeral procession. Joe gently took Sybil’s arm.

  ‘Come on, love,’ he whispered. ‘You’ve had your say. Think what the girl’s going through.’

  Sybil sniffed and touched her hand to her broad-brimmed black hat bought especially for the occasion. Her look bore through Mary as Fanny and Thomas held Mary’s hands.

  Joe and Sybil had arrived on the early train for this afternoon’s funeral. Whilst the company had passed on their condolences to Joe it was happy that Joe would be the only company representative. It left a sour taste in Joe’s mouth.

  Sybil had attacked Mary straight away claiming that Mary had denied Archie the chance to find a suitable girl; one that would have had such a hold over him that he wouldn’t have dreamed of staying out all hours armed for battle. And what did Emily think of her shananigans? It was disgusting unwomanly behaviour. She should be ashamed of herself, bring their sex into disrepute. Joe was horrified at the nonsense his wife berated on Mary but Mary let Sybil’s hollow words wash over her. She spun Archie’s rings on her finger and simply turned her back on Sybil, which outraged the woman even more.

  Sybil couldn’t hurt Mary now. In the last few days her emotions had been out of control. All she could do was think of Archie; relive every minute they’d shared. There was so much unsaid. But at least deep in her heart she knew he loved her as much as she him.

  Garrick was a brick. Nothing was too much trouble. Mary only had to hint at something or other and Garrick quietly and efficiently went about fixing things for her. It was Garrick Mary turned to when she made the decision about the locket. Archie must have it, of course. She had his rings. He must keep the locket. Silent tears rolled down her cheeks as she handed Garrick the locket and asked him to see that Archie had it with him.

  William was kind. He offered her a place as his house keeper for as long as they stayed in Auckland. Unfortunately the pay would be little more than nothing since he was surviving on strike pay.

  The funeral service took place in front of the watersiders’ offices in downtown Auckland. The girls escorted Mary to the front pews, ahead of a great sea of black-donned mourners. Mary was pleased for Archie. He wouldn’t mind that half of them didn’t know him personally, but they’d been touched by his message. It was never going to be a straight forward Methodist service. Many refugee strikers spoke at great length of their admiration for Archie who was revered as a political martyr. The full Federation of Labour executive attended and the Waihi Trade Union of Workers strike committee carried Archie’s wreath-covered coffin to the motor hearse.

  Mary led the children to the back of the hearse. She hefted Thomas up.

  ‘Bye bye, daddy,’ the boy said.

  Mary couldn’t hold back her tears after that and she felt an arm around her shoulder. It was Joe.

  ‘We all loved him, lass,’ he said. ‘
I’ll miss my little brother.’

  Mary could only nod.

  Then the motor hearse crawled away followed by Mary and three thousand mourners. Not a word was spoken as they marched all the way to Waikaraka cemetery where Mary laid Archie to rest.

  * * *

  Leonard and Buster remained in Waihi not convinced that things had got bad enough to force them to leave. Besides, they were pretty handy with their fists and weren’t altogether unhappy at the prospect of dealing to a few scabs.

  If the tactics of following up by the striking miners struck fear into the hearts of residents they should have been terrified at the turn of events. Remaining Federationists were virtually held in a state of siege. The Miners’ Union Hall had been taken over by the Arbitrationists who at one meeting read out a list of seventy six Federationist names for targeting, Leonard and Buster included. Those on the list should be hounded out of Waihi at any cost they said.

  To that end the Arbitrationists formed mobs and gave the Federationists forty eight hours to leave or they would blow up their houses or burn them down. Three hundred left by train the following day. Leonard and Buster did not return home, but nor did they leave town. They wouldn’t until the last Federationist did.

  The police were complicit in the mob’s actions, as they were before. As with Archie, they allowed a Federationist to receive a beating to within an inch of his life, actually forming a ring with their horses, before stopping it and escorting the poor man home.

  Sadly, the scabs turned their attention to the children of the Federationists. Many children reported being set upon by mobs who belted them black and blue about the legs. The Federationists naturally withdrew their children from school which encouraged Sybil and her ilk to send theirs back.

  Remaining Federationists began to go hungry as shop keepers refused credit and the scarlet runner network collapsed. Leonard managed to get a telegram to William about the dire situation who then used the information in his speeches. Very quickly mass meetings were held in Auckland, Wellington and Christchurch where demands were made for an inquiry into the lawless law and order which took place over the last week. There was indignation over the partisan tactics of the police and calls for the arrests of those responsible for the attacks on the Miners’ Union Hall and its defenders. The meetings expressed sympathy with the strikers and their families who were rendered homeless and heartfelt condolences were sent to the family of Archie Wright.

  Further, the meeting denounced the Massey appointed coroner in being able to deliver any verdict other than a farcical one.

  The Maoriland Worker was quick to ask thought provoking questions: how did the constable club Wright? Did he do it before being shot? How came the constable in the front rank of those who raided the hall and was he in plain clothes? If the strikers were not allowed to congregate in the streets, how come the scabs were allowed, particularly where they would irritate the strikers and why were the police not there in force? Why, when such large numbers of strikers were gaoled and extra police were on the scene, could the police not control the situation?

  For William the fight was not over. He sent a telegram to Waihi urging the remaining Federationists not to seek work. Leonard and Buster were urged to keep the faith, stay solid and report on Waihi happenings for their exiled colleagues. Their detailed reports should expose the police terrorism for the dastardly outrage on liberties it is and the fact rammed home.

  It was back to business for Joe, and Sybil managed to put the events of the past few months behind her. It helped to have the Citizens’ Ball at the Academy Theatre to look forward to. Of course, she’d have a new dress; her husband wasn’t without special status. And then at the end of the month there was to be a Police Ball for the brave men who were on duty during the strike. Mary was sickened. How brave was a constable in plain clothes to lead a charge against men lawfully occupying their own property, backed up by his own uniformed constabulary? The so called police bravery was yet another farce that went not understood by the country at large.

  It was natural that Joe would take in Archie’s children. Luckily they were too young to understand what a mistake Archie had made and they grieved for their father. Upon seeing Mary at their father’s funeral Fanny hoped it might be an option to stay with Mary, but was torn at the thought of being separated from her beloved cousins.

  Mary grudgingly let the children slip from her. They’d come to no harm. She hoped Sybil would let her see them soon.

  As the town regained its full workforce the strike was not called off.

  Epilogue 1914

  Mary gazed outside to the playing fields which were framed by a border of spring flowers. A piano sonata washed over the sparsely furnished room and Iris sang accompaniment. A bell sounded and the girl looked questioningly at Mary.

  ‘You may finish now, girls,’ she said. ‘It’s coming along nicely.’

  ‘Thank you, miss,’ said Cynthia.

  Mary took her time packing her notes before heading to her rooms at the far side of the college. The late sun was warm on her back and the trees were again in leaf. The change of seasons forced her to think of home. Mrs. Pearson’s garden would be a blaze of spring colour. And that made her think of Archie: the flowers he’d picked for her, his smile beneath his brush moustache and the twinkle of delight in his chocolate eyes as she took them from him.

  The weeks after the incident had been a whirlwind of political meetings. She and Isabelle spoke at some of them. The strike was never called off but the levies dried up pretty quickly. Many of the men who fled Waihi found work on the Huntly coal fields or on the docks in Auckland.

  Mary hardly ever saw the girls anymore, except for Clara. Clara kept her up to date with the comings and goings of the strike committee and the union until she felt like she was merely an observer, never been a part of it. For the girls, they all had their husbands – even Rose and Meg, to keep the fight within them alive. But without Archie, there came a point when she’d had enough, and she let that slip from her too.

  Mary had stayed with William for as long as it took to secure a teaching job in a girls’ boarding school. It was Mary’s dream and it was incredible to her that all the events that went before had led her to this. But she missed Archie with an aching heart. She still wore his rings. Every Sunday she put flowers on his grave.

  Emily wrote often and visited, usually accompanied by Nell. Emily and Nell kept company a lot now, sharing a meal in each other’s houses every week, just as they did during their Temperance Union days. They remembered Gerald fondly, each giving the other strength in their grief for him. Mary studied the two women intently wondering if Emily knew but she wouldn’t interfere. They were all women grieving. There was no claim to grief by virtue of being married.

  Percy was studying mine management at the Thames School of Mines and was in line for a scholarship at Auckland University College which this year had started a geology department. Mary hoped he would take it up: if this Great War didn’t take him away. She missed Percy.

  She picked a daffodil and threaded it through her buttonhole as she walked by. She sighed. Perhaps this time next year Waihi will have forgotten its troubles and she could go home.

  Other Books by Lily Ennis

  Women’s Fiction

  Fire in the Mountain

  Seaton’s War

  Adventure Fantasy

  EarthFlight One: A Dragon’s Adventure

  EarthFlight Two: Dragon’s Quest