Forgotten Figure was fiery lawyer and politician A new biography reveals influential Henry Wynn Williams riled Canterbury establishment figures with his working class advocacy. Humbug is not a pretty word. It has connotations of hoaxing, fraud and falseness. It was commonly used in the 1800s, mostly in reference to politicians. So, when The Press in an 1883 editorial described early Christchurch political figure Henry Wynn Williams as ‘‘free from humbug and deception’’, it was high praise. Wynn Williams’ great-grandson Robert says The Press editorial was ‘‘extraordinarily effusive about Henry’’, especially considering how critical the newspaper had been of Wynn Williams’ policies. Robert, a Lincoln scientist, has used the phrase in the title of his biography of the influential lawyer-politician. Free From Humbug is not an effusive biography, though. It presents a ‘‘warts and all’’ portrayal of one of the most interesting characters in early Canterbury. Historians have largely ignored Wynn Williams and he remains unknown to most people. Perhaps the Welshman was too liberal and supportive of the working class to be accepted socially by The Establishment of wealthy squatters, merchants and professionals. However, Robert takes obvious delight in the fact that two of New Zealand’s leading law firms, Wynn Williams & Co and Russell McVeagh, were founded at about the same time by brothers; by Henry Wynn Williams in Christchurch and by his younger brother in Auckland. The Petrus van der Velden portrait of Wynn Williams on the book’s cover could almost be of David Lloyd George. The two politicians shared more than their appearance and their Welsh birth. Wynn Williams came to New Zealand by happy accident. The parson’s son qualified in law in 1853 and practised for four years. Restless and hard-up he opted for a move to the colonies. His choice was South Africa but he met an acquaintance in the street who recommended New Zealand. Wynn Williams could not afford the fare so his acquaintance pulled strings with a shipping company to let him work his passage. Robert still finds it hard to believe that his great-grandfather, who had never been to sea, was taken on as third mate in a ship that had no first or second mate. The landlubber who knew nothing about ships became second-in-command of the emigrant vessel Hastings for the long voyage. Another happy accident came after leaving (possibly deserting) the ship at Wellington in 1858. Wynn Williams accompanied an on-board friend to Nelson. There he met a farmer who warmed to the penniless new arrival and took him under his wing. For the next two years he did a variety of work, including droving, cooking and general farm duties. In 1860 he settled in Christchurch and established his legal practice in the Shands Emporium building on Hereford Street. He married Emily Coward (the name being a contraction of cow herd) and they raised seven children, a further two having died in infancy. He might have been regarded askance by the establishment, but Wynn Williams’ skills brought him custom, which led to some friendships. Future Premier Sir John Hall advanced him sufficient money to buy a grand home on the south-east corner of Latimer Square, in 1863. He developed the rambling garden and lawns which were used for bowls, croquet, tennis, fetes and garden parties. His prominence brought election to the provincial council and, eventually, to the House of Representatives (Parliament). In these forums his advocacy for the poor and downtrodden raised his profile further. Robert’s book contains highlights of his legal and political careers. It shows reactions to his outspoken and forthright manner, ranging from homage to horror. ‘‘He was a genuine egalitarian,’’ Robert says. He campaigned for land reform to break up large estates and settle small farmers. He fought for workers’ rights. He espoused tax reform that would ensure everyone paid a fair share. He was a keen reader and, influenced by Mark Twain, whom he met, had ambitions to be a writer. The diaries he kept of his travels in New Zealand and around the world, including a railway trip across the USA, could have been prototypes for travel books. Wynn Williams died in 1913. Marking the centenary of his death, Robert felt drawn to research his life. ‘‘I am not spiritual but I got a feeling he was waiting for me to come along and do it. It was all sitting there for me to pick up,’’ Robert says. He knew enough of his great-grandfather’s story to believe it should be turned into a book. He found reference to a journal in some historical notes at Wynn Williams and Co. This led him to a relative who had the journal. It was a treasure trove of information that drew him ever closer to his great-grandfather. Finding he had an affinity for ‘‘the small people’’ was ‘‘an agreeable surprise’’, Robert says. It launched him on further research in New Zealand and Britain. Mike Crean Fairfax. NZ