On returning to work from one of his sojourns in the King Country, Rāwiri placed an envelope on Kelly’s desk in the warehouse. Kelly expected it was an invoice for goods he had purchased, but he found, to his surprise, the envelope contained an invitation to the wedding of Rāwiri Quinn and Maraea Hērangi.
“Rāwiri, you dark horse,” Kelly exclaimed. “So, you weren’t just visiting your mother in Te Kuiti.”
“Actually we’re already married. We had our wedding at Maraea’s home marae at Mangatāwhiri. But I want to have an official wedding in the church here as well.”
“Two weddings, eh.”
“You had two weddings,” Rawiri retorted.
“The first one didn’t count,” Kelly said. “And I thought you were a bachelor for life. So where’s your wife now? Have you brought her back with you?”
“Yes, she’s here at home.”
“Whaea Maraea. A new auntie in the home for Wiremu,” Kelly said. “Is he going to stay with you still?”
“Yes, for now anyway,” Rāwiri said. “He can stay as long as he likes. He’s whānau.”
“I haven’t seen Wiremu since he’s come back from Dunedin.” Kelly said. “He hasn’t even contacted me.”
“You should make contact with him,” Rawiri said. “He became very fond of your family and he was sad to leave.”
“He was especially fond of Eliza,” Kelly said.
“Do you think he was sweet on her?” Rāwiri asked.
“Yes. I was getting concerned about it.”
“That might explain why he was getting so moody and miserable before he left.”
“Still, he’s done well for himself, hasn’t he,” Kelly said.
“Yes, he really threw himself into his studies. You know he graduated LLB with honours?
“What’s LLB stand for?”
“It’s Bachelor of Law.”
“Why isn’t it a BL then? A Bachelor of Arts is a BA”
“I don’t know why it’s LLB. Anyway, it’s a Law degree.”
“He’s got a good brain, all right,” Kelly said.
“I wonder which side of the family that comes from.”
“Well, I’ll take some of the credit,” Kelly said.
“He was lucky to get a good job here,” Rāwiri said. “A lot of law firms are struggling with the downturn in business.”
“Who’s he working for?”
“Russell and Campbell. One of the best. But he’s also doing some work for us on Te Kotahitanga, the Māori Parliament, helping us with land issues and submissions to Government.”
“He’s a busy boy.”
“Sure is. His work for Te Kotahitanga is pro bono publico.”
“What’s that?”
“Unpaid.”
“I suppose he makes enough with Russell and Campbell,” Kelly remarked.
“He’s very clued up on land issues and how to deal with Government and Councils. He specialised in Land Law in his degree. Land Law, Jurisprudence, Contracts, and Civil Procedures. Russell and Campbell thought he’d be useful to them, especially dealing with the Land Court and the Māori perspective and all that. You should come round and talk to him yourself. I’m sure he’d appreciate a visit, if you can catch him at home.”
Which Kelly did, one fine Sunday afternoon when neither of them was working. Wiremu welcomed Kelly and poured them both a beer (Kelly didn’t drink at home.) and they sat in the sun and chatted about life in Dunedin. Wiremu seemed to have grown in every dimension. Kelly prompted him to talk about his work.
“Russell and Campbell are a very modern and progressive, all male firm,” Wiremu said. “No women. They’ve got telephones and hansom cabs for visiting clients and they’ve just got those new typing machines. One of my jobs is I’m a typewriter.”
Kelly smiled at the irony, the humour, the self-deprecation and he asked about Wiremu’s clients to turn the conversation to what he really did.
“Most of their business comes from their big clients: the Auckland Harbour Board, the Waitematā County Council, the Onehunga Borough Council, and the liquor industry,” he said, raising his glass and taking a draught. “But a lot of the work I do is pretty mundane: drawing up agreements for leases, conveyancing, property taxation, litigation on debts, and the like. I’m just a law clerk. The work I do for the rūnanga is actually more interesting.”
“The rūnanga?”
“The Māori Parliament Matua Rāwiri is involved in. Te Kotahitanga.”
*
Of the Kelly children, Imogen was the only one still in the family home, and Annie was glad of her company. After graduating from Teachers’ College, Eliza started work at Parnell District School, the very school she had attended as a child. And she stayed living at home until her marriage to Oliver Steadman. The wedding took place in St Mark’s Church, in Remuera, the only church she had ever attended, where she and Charles and Imogen were christened, and where her parents were married.
Wiremu was invited to the wedding, along with Rāwiri and Maraea, and they sat in a pew near the back of the nave. At the front of the church, the bridal couple knelt at the altar, as the vicar recited the prayers. Then they stood together as he led them through their vows. Wiremu had heard the story from Rāwiri of how his Uncle Matua Hamana had stopped Kelly and Annie’s wedding with his shocking objection. Now, as the vicar looked up and addressed the assembled guests with:
If there is anyone present who can show just cause why these two persons may not be joined in matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace.
Wiremu pictured himself jumping to his feet and shouting, ‘It’s me she loves! I am her first love!’ But no, he would not scandalise the family. He would hold his peace, forever hold his peace. Instead, at the end of the ceremony, he congratulated the newlyweds, he kissed Eliza on the cheek, shook Oliver’s hand, and wished them well.
*
Annie and Imogen went on outings together where Imogen would sketch scenes of the Auckland environs, harbour and bays, from which she painted landscapes, at home. She did her painting in the studio she had set up in the bedroom that had become spare, since Charles had moved out. His employer, Ernest Samuel, had offered him a house in Onehunga, where there was a building boom, and a shortage of qualified tradesmen.
Annie recognised in Imogen’s paintings the scenes they had admired together but the mystically dream-like landscapes also made her realise that Imogen had a different way of seeing the natural world. Imogen’s old art teacher, Mrs Paddock, had retired from school teaching to work on her own art and had opened a studio and gallery in the town. She was a great encouragement to Imogen and a few other ‘promising young artists’. Imogen’s outings often included visits to the Paddock Gallery and she exhibited some of her own work there, at Mrs Paddock’s invitation, first alongside other artists, and subsequently as sole exhibitor. Her exhibition was well received and several of her paintings sold.
*
Annie had sometimes to be caregiver and nurse to Imogen, but she had enough time of her own to pursue outside interests. She had garnered a circle of friends within the church and joined a group of women who were opposed to the sale and consumption of alcohol and were campaigning for prohibition. They became politically involved in the cause by forming a local chapter of the New Zealand Women’s Christian Temperance Union. It seemed to Annie a worthy cause, as she had seen much harm caused by liquor back in Ireland, even in her own family, and also in New Zealand. With Isabella, she attended a meeting at church, convened by Isabella’s friend, Amey Daldy, President of the Auckland branch of the Women’s Franchise League. Kate Shepperd, the founder of the WCTU had informed Mrs Daldy that she would be coming to Auckland as part of their national speaking tour. Mrs Shepperd was Secretary of the Ladies Association of the Trinity Congregational Church in Christchurch and Isabella had met her previously when she came to Auckland on church business concerning Bible classes and fund raising.
Annie was not long home from the church meeting when she told Kelly about Kate Shepperd coming to Auckland and that she wanted to go to hear her address at the Town Hall.
“Kate Shepperd, you say,” Kelly said, looking up from his newspaper. “The Christian socialist.”
“Yes, she’s coming to speak about prohibition and political reform.”
“To get women the right to vote,” Kelly said sceptically. “That’ll be a hard battle.”
“Some of the MPs are in favour, Annie said.”
“Really? Who?”
“Alfred Saunders, for one. And Sir John Hall.” Annie was sure there were a few more but couldn’t think of any others. “Most women would vote for prohibition in the referendums.” she said.
“I can see the point,” Kelly said. “The country won’t go dry if it’s left to the men.”
“The King Country’s dry.”
“True,” said Kelly, “and they’re better off for it.”
“The meeting’s in two weeks’ time,” Annie said, “on the Sunday afternoon.”
“Should be an interesting meeting,” Kelly remarked, from behind his paper.
“You know it’s for women only.”
“Oh, well all right,” Kelly said. “I’ll have my day of rest at home.”
“Thank you Finbar. Not all the husbands are as supportive. Josiah Gooch said he won’t have Eunice meddling in masculine concerns. Henry Sweetman says Nora needs to stay home and attend to what nature designed women for: cooking meals, emptying slops, and looking after children.”
“Yes, that sounds like Henry all right,” Kelly said.
*
Sitting in the auditorium of the Town Hall, Annie was anticipating a stridently, rousing call to action. But she was a little surprised when the elegantly dressed Kate Shepperd walked out onto the stage and addressed the assembled women in a calm and pleasantly feminine voice, a cultured voice with a touch of the Liverpool accent. Mrs Shepperd began by commending the many women who had come out to get involved in much needed social and political reform. “We are tired of having a ‘sphere’ doled out to us,” she said, “and being told that anything outside that sphere is ‘unwomanly.’ Women should not be confined to the sphere of domesticity and we should be valued as more than just the property of men.”
After these introductory remarks Mrs Shepperd addressed the issue of prohibition. “Alcohol is the cause of many social ills,” she said, “the cause of poverty, immorality, social and economic instability, ill health and even death. The main causes of death in this country are: drink, drowning, and drowning while drunk.”
“Prohibition can be achieved by proper democratic process. Liquor is already banned in some electorates but our objective is prohibition for the whole country. Prohibition is decided by referendum. A sixty per cent majority vote is required. Yes, it is a high threshold, but it is achievable. If women are given the opportunity to vote I believe we will carry the day.”
“So, our first objective is to secure the right to vote, ahead of the next general election. Why should we women be excluded from voting, along with juveniles, lunatics, and criminals? We cannot wait for men to allow us to vote. We must fight for the right to vote and win it for ourselves. We will keep lobbying our politicians and petitioning Parliament. Our last petition procured almost 20,000 signatures. Support for the cause is increasing, even among some of the men in our government. We shall keep petitioning Parliament. They can’t ignore us forever. I tell you the day will come when we shall even have women members of parliament.”
Women in government? This last claim prompted some applause from the audience and some sporadic murmuring of approval, and disbelief from some for whom it seemed too idealistic, too revolutionary.
“The time has come for concerted action,” Mrs Shepperd proclaimed. “We will take our petition the length and breadth of the country and give every woman the opportunity to sign it, and any men who so wish. We have pamphlets to distribute and petition forms,” she said, indicating the stacks of papers on the stage. “We need many volunteers. We need you. Our committee will record the areas of the province you are willing to cover.”
Most of the audience, including Annie and the women she’d come with, caught the vision and committed to volunteering for the campaign. When Annie got home, she gave Kelly an account of the meeting while the zeal for the cause was still upon her. Kelly agreed it was a worthy cause and supposed it would be all right for her to devote a bit of time to take the petition on the road with Isabella, as long as Imogen didn’t need looking after at the time.
“Of course, Isabella doesn’t have any children to worry about,” he said. “What about Mrs Shepperd? Does she have a family?”
“She has one child. A boy.”
“And what’s her husband?”
“A grocer and merchant.”
*
Kate Shepperd’s suffrage campaign resulted in a petition with an unprecedented 32,000 signatures, almost a quarter of the adult female European population. She glued the five hundred and forty-six sheets of the petition together and the resulting scroll, measuring over three hundred yards long, was ceremoniously unrolled across the chamber of the House of Representatives. Prime Minister Richard Seddon, who had implacably opposed bills to extend the vote to women, had to concede. The Legislative Council voted twenty votes to eighteen in favour of the bill and, despite the opposition of the powerful liquor lobby, the Electoral Act 1893 was passed into law. The right to vote was extended to all women who were British subjects, including Māori women, (but not Chinese). It was heralded in the news as an historic victory for women and for New Zealand leading the way for women’s suffrage. As for prohibition, there was a ‘no liquor licence’ vote in some districts but not for national prohibition.