The Kellys attended two funerals in one year, in the year of 1894. The first was in September on a fine spring day, though it was still cool enough to be wearing coats. Imogen especially needed wrapping up against the cold. It was the Kelly family, plus Eliza’s husband, Oliver Steadman. They travelled south by train to Taupiri, for the tangihanga of King Tāwhiao, and disembarked at the site between the Waikato River and the sacred mountain, where Tāwhiao was to be buried next to his father Pōtatau te Wherowhero, the first Māori king. There were throngs of mourners from throughout the country, including many dignitaries, among the tents and whare of nīkau and raupo, and enormous quantities of food.
Hundreds of Māori men gathered together, near naked, as warriors, and broke out into a thunderous haka, chanting Ka mate! Ka mate! Ka ora! Ka ora! The warriors chanted, and slapped their thighs and their chests, raked their chests with their fingernails, drawing blood. The ground reverberated under their feet as they stamped in unison. And the pūkana: the bulging eyes, the protruding tongue. A ferocious display to terrify an enemy. Kelly had seen it before on the battlefield and he had been terrified. The protruding, lapping, flicking tongue of cannibal blood lust, that said I want to drink your blood. Or was it a show of Your head will look like this when I cut it off? Your tongue will hang out. Your eyes will roll back. The chanting, slapping, stamping. It was all a pulsating, mesmerising rhythm.
“Are you all right Finbar?” Annie said, threading her arm through his. She had the absurd thought to say, ‘What hath thee in thrall?’ She had been reading John Keats’ poetry and one poem, La Belle Dame Sans Merci, suddenly came to mind. She could well have asked Kelly:
O what can ail thee, knight-at-arms,
So haggard and so woe-begone?
The poem had both charmed her and disturbed her. There were lines that made her think of Finbar’s wars, and his other woman:
I saw pale kings and princes too,
Pale warriors, death-pale were they all;
They cried – ‘La belle dame sans merci
Thee hath in thrall!’
I met a lady in the meads,
Full beautiful — a faery’s child,
Her hair was long, her foot was light,
And her eyes were wild.
She looked at me as she did love,
And made sweet moan.
I set her on my prancing steed,
And nothing else saw all day long…
(Annie considered she was well acquainted with Finbar’s ‘prancing steed’.)
She found me roots of relish sweet,
And honey wild, and manna-dew’
And sure in language strange she said –
‘I love thee true’.
Another band of warriors formed an honour guard and performed a haka, brandishing weapons of the recent wars: mere, taiaha, a few swords and many muskets, and fired volleys of blanks into the air.
“It’s a pity they got their hands on muskets in the first place,” Oliver remarked. “They would have all killed each other off, tribe against tribe, if the British hadn’t come and brought peace.”
“We brought them more war,” Kelly said.
“How could a bunch of primitive savages hope to defeat a modern European army?” Oliver said.
“We only defeated the so-called savages in the end because we had an unlimited supply of soldiers and weapons and treachery.”
A brass band played The Dead March, while kuia, wearing wreaths of greenery about their heads, wailed a lament for their dead King. A press photographer recording the spectacle was ordered off the site, as his camera on a tripod, apparently bore a sinister resemblance to the theodolite of a surveyor’s equipment.
There was only a brief reunion with Ᾱwhina as she was an integral part of the Kīngitanga retinue at the tangi and left with them for the hui which followed. She accompanied Tupu Atanatiu Taingākawa Te Waharoa, the son of Wiremu Tāmihana. Tana Taingākawa, as he was otherwise known, was the successor to his father, the Kingmaker, and at the hui, performed the same function by anointing Tāwhiao’s son, Mahuta as the new Māori King.
Ᾱwhina seemed more distant. Pākehā were kept at a distance from the ceremony anyway, behind a cordon. Rāwiri, Maraea and Wiremu were there but had come with a different rōpū. Rāwiri had become increasingly involved in Māori politics and was greatly influenced by Hamiora Mangakahia, who became the Premier of the Great Council of Te Kotahitanga, the new Māori Parliament, based in Waitangi. Rāwiri consequently shifted his allegiance from the Kīngitanga to Te Kotahitanga, which was a disappointment to his mother, who remained loyal to the Kīngitanga.
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The second funeral, on Christmas Day, was that of James Dilworth. In the last few years of his life, Dilworth had suffered from a debilitating palsy that caused his hands to shake and his legs to walk with difficulty, but it was an attack of peritonitis that caused his sudden death. The funeral at St Mark’s Church in Remuera was attended by a good many mourners, including many civic dignitaries, though not on the scale of the thousands at Tāwhiao’s tangi. Nor did it have the noisy spectacle of the tangi, but rather a solemn dignity. Many of Isabella’s friends from the Christian Temperance Union also attended.
The Kellys sat in the front pew of the church, with Isabella, the grieving widow, her usually benign countenance, drawn and sombre. Dilworth left a very substantial estate and Isabella was well provided for. Ownership of his lands and buildings and shares in companies passed to Isabella, and it was Dilworth’s wish that Kelly would pay a nominal lease on the farmlands and manage the farms for as long as he wished and receive the income from them. Having no heirs, no children of his own, Dilworth became a benefactor to many other children. The eulogy for Dilworth was lavish in its praise for his philanthropy and his support for the kindergarten movement, the YMCA and Auckland University. It included also the announcement that he had set up the Dilworth Ulster Institute to establish a school ‘to take in, and provide a first class academic and religious education for, orphans and sons of widows and persons of good character, of any race, and in straitened circumstances’.
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J. B. Russell, the senior partner of the law firm which employed Wiremu, died in February of the same year and Wiremu would have attended his funeral as well, except that it was held in London. J B, as he was known in the legal fraternity, had gone to London in search of a cure for the actinomycosis which had afflicted him and ultimately caused his death. In the ensuing restructuring of the firm, Wiremu advanced to a higher position, probably in consequence of proving his worth in the Ironworks Affair, as it became known. That is to say, it was referred to as the Ironworks Affair within the firm, but was not publicly known at all, as it never went to court.
What transpired after the day’s fishing on the Onehunga Wharf was that Te Kotahitanga contracted an independent scientist to investigate the pollution of the harbour in the vicinity of the Ironworks and began proceedings to prosecute the Onehunga Borough Council for failing in their duty of care for the environment under their jurisdiction. The Borough Council sought the advice of their solicitors, Russell and Campbell and, as Mr Campbell was aware of Wiremu’s connection to Te Kotahitanga, he brought him into the case. Wiremu advised his bosses that the Onehunga Borough Council had no defence, but they had a scapegoat, and Mr Sowry was dismissed from his position on the Council. Wiremu was also able to provide information on the source of the pollution.
Russell and Campbell informed the solicitors acting for the New Zealand Iron and Steel Company of their intention to prosecute for breach of bylaws with regard to discharging toxic waste into the Manukau Harbour, and more serious charges in respect of bribery and corruption. After much negotiating, and with the assistance of Elizabeth Yates, in her capacity as Mayor and Justice of the Peace, Te Kotahitanga agreed on an out of court settlement, with the assurance of an immediate remedy for the toxic waste issue and the payment of a considerable sum of money, including compensation to the local iwi. It was a minor victory for Te Kotahitanga and for the harbour, at least in the short term. The tide of industrialisation around the Manukau Harbour and its impact on the environment could not be held back in the longer term. Mrs Yates was defeated in the mayoralty election the following year, even though it was acknowledged she had been an able administrator and accomplished many improvements in the borough’s infrastructure, amenities and finances. She returned as a councillor in subsequent elections.
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Wiremu gained some kudos for his part in resolving the Ironworks Affair and won a promotion. His path was set for a successful career as a barrister and solicitor. It was around this time that the first of the female employees appeared in the Russell and Campbell offices. Typewriting came to be regarded as too menial a job for men, and women were being trained in the use of the machines. One young woman, a Miss Caroline Fairbairn, was hired initially, as a secretary / typewriter. Miss Fairbairn was a modern young woman, fashionable, outgoing and sporty. She cycled to work, wearing a shirtwaist and cloak and a straw boater, with blonde curls springing out from under the sides. Some thought she looked like Eliza Kelly. Being an attractive single woman, Miss Fairbairn naturally attracted interest from some of the all male staff. Wiremu was assigned to show the new employee the ropes, so he had the advantage over the other men who took a particular interest. Most of the young men in the office were legal clerks and the older men were barristers and solicitors. But there was Wiremu, still young and a real lawyer, professional and charming. It must be said, he was doing his best to be charming and he created such a favourable impression that he was soon fraternising with Caroline, first at the nearby coffee house, during break times and then on weekend outings to musical shows, horse races and tramping in the mountains.
Wiremu and Caroline married after a short engagement. The reason for the brevity of the engagement was soon apparent as Caroline had got pregnant quite early on. Her first pregnancy, unfortunately ended in a miscarriage, the result of a cycling accident. She took more care with subsequent pregnancies and was rewarded with three healthy babies over seven years.