On the first day in May 1871, nine year old Mary Ann McPhee ran
out of the All Seasons Hotel in Caversham Dunedin, screaming “Da, mother’s
killed herself and Nelly.” The very next
day Mary Ann was forced to relive that scene – she was called to the stand to
give evidence at the coroner’s inquest into her mother’s actions.
“Yesterday, about
half past seven whilst I was dressing myself, I thought I heard a noise like a
cock crowing. I looked into the room I heard
the noise coming from and saw my mother, Agatha McPhee lying on the floor with
all her clothes on, cutting her own throat.
My sister Nelly lay on the floor; my mother’s head was on her hip. I asked my mother who had killed Nelly and
she touched her own breast meaning it was herself.” Mary Ann went on to explain that earlier that
morning her sister had been “running about among the neighbours” before her
mother had picked her up and carried her inside. She had heard Nelly ask her
mother where they were going, to which her mother had replied “I am going to
take you to heaven.”
Various neighbours rushed to the scene. Women bound the wounds on Agatha’s neck and the
doctor and constable were sent for. There
were immediate concerns for the safety of the remaining McPhee children, but
after some initial panic, the youngest child was found alive and well
upstairs. Agatha later admitted that she
had initially intended to kill first Nelly and then the baby before taking her
own life.
The incident was immediately and melodramatically
reported. The Dunedin Evening Star
described it as “a tragedy so horrible in its character that the bare thought
of it almost makes one’s blood run cold.”
The bodies were depicted as lying “weltering in blood” and “fair haired
Nelly, barely four years of age” (who was “rather helpless through paralysis in
the side”) was reported to have been almost beheaded, her neck having been
hacked at with an eighteen inch butcher’s knife until her head was only
connected to the body by a small band of flesh.
The article concluded by suggesting that a motive would soon be revealed.
Agatha did not die quietly. To quote the Star – “She had a long cut
across her throat, but her efforts to deprive herself of life were not so
determinedly made as they were upon her child – none of the main arteries were
severed.” Doctor Hammond sewed up the wound in her neck, and pronounced her
survival to be doubtful, however despite her weakened condition Agatha could
still communicate and was determined to explain her actions. While she was still able to speak she asked her
husband to forgive her and repeatedly demanded that a man named Peter Kane should be
brought to her. When unable to speak,
she wrote notes. In a message to
Constable Anderson, she wrote “I wish to live until I see the man that took
such advantage over me. Send for him.” A
Justice of the Peace was summoned and Agnes dictated several written statements that were witnessed in his presence. Peter Kane never faced his accuser that day, however
witnesses who were present during Agatha’s final hours were left in no doubt
that he was the person who had caused Agatha’s unspecified sin and shame.
The incident had been no secret. At the inquest, a labourer named John Swain
testified that Agatha had confided in him.
He described how a “very affected” Agatha, “scarcely able to speak” had
told him that on the previous Wednesday night, during her husband’s absence,
Peter Kane (her husband’s business partner) had entered her bedroom and had “laid
hands on her”. She had fought him off by
fetching a carving knife and threatening him with it. The following morning Kane had called her a
whore (and worse) and threatened to destroy her good name if the event ever came
to court. John Swain advised Agatha that
it was her duty to tell her husband and described leaving her “in a very sad
state.”
As she lay dying, Agatha whispered to a neighbour that she
had decided to kill herself and her two youngest children if her husband took
the news of her attack badly; “if he cannot take it well, I can never look him
in the face again.” Unfortunately, Donald McPhee reacted predictably poorly to
the news of his wife’s abuse and Agatha revealed to the neighbour that after “seeing
him crying and so much put about” she had made up her mind.
At the inquest Mary Ann McPhee testified that she had
heard her parents talking, (but not quarrelling) in the night then had heard her
father crying. Donald McPhee testified that he had wept at the news but had ‘no
occasion to suspect his wife’s honour’ and had persuaded her to take the matter
to court. Agatha had reluctantly agreed,
despite being “averse on the grounds of delicacy and nervousness” and
distressed at the prospect of having her good character questioned.
Her death was protracted and degrading. In the afternoon, Doctor Hammond found her to
be “somewhat stronger and rational.” Agatha was able to ask whether Nelly had
been laid out, (she had) and stated that it was too late for regrets but that
she hoped that nobody would blame her husband for her own actions. By evening her condition had deteriorated. When Agatha rose up and attempted to tear
open her throat wound the doctor was recalled. Finding her exhausted from her struggles and
judging that she had a “better chance of recovery than of dying if she was kept
quiet,” Doctor Hammond declined to sedate her, ordering instead that she should
be confined to a straight jacket and tied down.
“After struggling for some time in the jacket and attempting to get off
the sofa to which she was bound, she died suddenly from exhaustion following a
self-inflicted wound, and from the shock to her system.”
The verdict of the
Coroner’s jury was that Agatha and Nelly had died from wounds inflicted while
Agatha was in a state of “temporary insanity induced by aspersion to her
character.” Peter Kane was charged with
intent to commit rape and was remanded in custody.
The exact nature of Kane’s physical assault was never specified. With typical Victorian modesty Agatha had
used euphemisms to describe the attack. The clearest indication of exactly what had
occurred that night was given by her husband Donald. At the inquest he alleged that his wife had
told him that Kane had taken hold of her and that despite her struggles he had “accomplished
what he wanted.” Days later he published a hasty and very unfortunate retraction
in the Otago Daily Times. In a clumsy
attempt to portray Agatha as an innocent victim, Donald’s written statement had
completely exonerated Peter Kane of the crime of rape.
His posthumous attempt at salvaging his wife’s reputation
destroyed the police case against Kane – they refused to pursue the prosecution
however Donald McPhee chose to proceed with a private prosecution (ignoring the
judge’s advice). The case was
hopeless. Witness statements were
regarded as hearsay and ruled inadmissible and Agatha’s delicately worded sworn
written statements were so nonspecific as to be useless. Peter Kane was judged to be innocent.
Nelly was buried in the Southern Cemetery in Dunedin, when Donald
died eight years later he was buried alongside his daughter. Mary Ann never married; she died in 1923 and
was also interred there. The family plot
bears no ornamentation or headstone and is identified only by surname. One additional body only identified as ‘McPhee”
was buried there six months after Donald’s death. It would be nice to think that
a family member might have had Agatha’s body exhumed and quietly buried
alongside her husband.
Wife
and mother, Agatha McPhee deserves to be remembered as the person that her
friends and family described. In typical understated Victorian fashion Donald said
“she was sensitive but sensible and intelligent, I never had an angry word with
her.” Another newspaper account relates that she was “much respected by all her
acquaintances as a quiet and industrious woman.”
