by Lily Ennis
He left Mary to compose herself and went outside to Fanny. They returned holding hands, Fanny with dusty feet and hands and a ribbon as big as her head that refused to stay in a bow. Her little dress hung limp in the damp air.
Mary went to get up but Archie caught her. ‘Stay seated, Miss Bell, if you wouldn’t mind,’ he said. ‘I’ve been meaning to bring this up.’
‘What is it?’
‘No shoes again.’
Mary looked at Fanny’s feet. ‘That’s correct.’
‘Miss Bell, there are many things I’ve overlooked and perhaps come to live with in the transition from one country to another but I simply do not like Fanny playing outside without her shoes.’
Mary laughed. She’d very nearly died of asphyxiation after taking on his formidable sister-in-law in defence of his right to choose his own wife, if and when he judged the time to be right, and he stands there talking about a child playing in her own yard without shoes.
‘What is it?’ asked Archie.
Mary shook her head. ‘No, no, Mr. Wright. I’m sorry. I’m still recovering.’ She frowned. ‘Is there a problem?’
‘I must insist that the child is properly shod before going outside to play.’
The man spoke as though Fanny was a horse! ‘Why?’ asked Mary.
Archie squeezed his mouth tight. The woman was impertinent. ‘Because I wish it,’ he answered simply.
Mary quickly leapt to her feet and hauled the hem of her skirt above her ankle boots. ‘So she can look like this in the middle of a Waihi summer? This isn’t the worst our summer gets, Mr. Wright. Just wait until February. She’s a child! She’s got the rest of her life to be trussed up like a chicken ready for the table.’
Archie was amused and he felt his face soften and his eyes brighten as Mary gave him a glimpse of white leg as she swished her petticoat aside.
‘In this country,’ Mary continued, ‘we don’t have snakes or spiders or scorpions. In this country we let our children run around outside without shoes because it is safe. In this country we let our children go to school without shoes in defiance of old country impositions.’
Mary slipped off her apron and picked up her basket. ‘I’m sorry you don’t like it.’ She held her chin firmly up and fiercely held Archie’s gaze. ‘I’ve had as much of the Wright family as I can take. I’ll work out the week.’
Archie was gobsmacked. ‘But, but...’
‘You can spend your Christmas break finding a replacement,’ Mary said. ‘I’m sure Sybil will help.’
Stunned, Archie let her go. How did it escalate to that? She hadn’t even waited for him to digest what she said. She made sense, explained the ways of this new country. She wasn’t to know whether her argument was even going to be successful.
‘What’s the matter, Daddy?’ asked Fanny.
‘Miss Bell is going to take a holiday,’ he said.
‘Do I have to wear shoes?’
Archie picked up his little pony. ‘No darling. Not if Miss Bell says you don’t. He tweaked her little nose softly and she laughed. Archie did not.
Part Two April 1912
Chapter Seven
The boys scrambled up the rope ladder then Jack hurriedly hauled it inside the tree hut. Catherine sulked but only after she threw stones at them. The stones pelted the roof and side and bounced back down at her. She picked up the same ones and threw them again. The boys whispered, giggling at their cleverness. She would soon get bored with her game, especially if they ignored her. She did. The boys peeked through the slatted timber at Catherine scuffing the ground angrily with her boots as she retreated inside the house.
Jack and Errol were pleased with themselves. Sisters did not belong in tree houses. Everyone knew that. Percy played the game of course but as he didn’t have a little sister he felt a little for Catherine whose bottom lip dropped and threatened to quiver when they were mean to her.
‘She’s all right,’ Jack assured Percy. ‘She knows full well this is boys only.’
Jack, Errol and Percy built the tree hut last year in the plum tree at the front of the Strawbridge’s. They’d had to butcher a couple of branches to make room. It had a window from which the main street and surrounding housing could be seen. In fact as the crow flies it was directly behind the Miners’ Union Hall on Seddon Street and if you looked to the side of the where Jack’s street met the main road you could see the rake of ore trucks rattling through.
That was the best; when the rakes went through. In summer they’d run down to Seddon Street to watch and count them. In winter it was more comfortable to observe through the leafless branches of the tree.
The boys leaned against a wall, their knees bent and their feet all meeting in the middle. They bit into apples.
Jack slurped and spoke through apple. ‘That was excellent algebra you did today, Perce. Showed Jug-ears.’ He laughed and crunched into his apple.
Percy was non-plussed. He shrugged. ‘It’s easy.’
‘It’s not,’ rebuked Jack. ‘Won’t need it anyway to go mining. I’ve never heard Dad talk about algebra.’ He enunciated the word slowly, each syllable taking up all the available space in his mouth.
Percy shrugged again. Schooling came easy to him. He had no wish to offend his best friend. He knew that the day Jack turned fifteen he would follow William down the mines. That was only a few months away. Percy had already turned fifteen and try as he might he could not persuade Gerald to let him go into the mines. It didn’t seem fair when Gerald had got Sam his job.
Errol concentrated on eating his apple while trying to figure out if he would be more suited to algebra than his brother. It didn’t matter one way or the other for if Jack was going into the mines this year then next year he’d follow. He hadn’t ever thought it would be any different.
The knock off hooter sounded on the hill behind them. Percy threw his apple core out the window. ‘Is your dad having a meeting tonight?’
Jack shrugged. ‘Dunno.’
Errol nodded. ‘Probably.’ It was the first word the boy had spoken and the others looked at him questioningly.
‘How do you know?’ asked Jack.
‘He has lots now,’ Errol replied.
The boys reflected on it. Errol was right. It used to be that William was late home only once a month and usually on a Wednesday. But he’d already been late twice and neither was a Wednesday.
Percy threw the rope out the door. ‘Oh well. I better get going anyway.’
He scrambled down, slung his satchel over his shoulder and headed down the hill. It was only a short walk along the full commercial length of Seddon Street but there was always something to distract him. Usually it was the banging in the blacksmith’s or the stables that drew his attention. This afternoon however, it was the Miners’ Union Hall. Percy heard the cry of many voices ring out. He peered through the window. Jack’s dad was on the stage with some other men he didn’t know. Garrick was on stage too; he’d met him at the stables. It surprised Percy to see him there. The man didn’t seem to be in the same league as Jack’s dad.
William called for quiet and repeated the resolution. ‘In the event that the engine drivers form their proposed union, members of the Waihi Trade Union of Workers will refuse to be lowered by them. We’ve aired it generously. Now it’s time to vote on it,’ he said. ‘All those in favour say aye.’
A resounding aye rang throughout the hall.
‘Against.’
The hall was silent.
‘The ayes have it,’ William announced.
The crowd cheered.
Percy sped off home past the shops, skirting the Cornish Pumphouse and around the back of the hill where his house was the only one in the short no exit road.
The door slammed behind him.
‘Hey!’ Emily remonstrated. ‘Close it, don’t slam it.’
‘Sorry,’ Percy called automatically.
Sam looked up from the newspaper as Percy ran into the room. Percy didn’t give his brother
a chance to speak. ‘Are you in a new union?’ he blurted out.
‘No,’ Sam replied. ‘Why?’
‘There’s a big meeting in the Miners’ Hall. Jack’s dad said if you form your own union then the miners will refuse to be lowered by you.’
Emily came in wiping her hands on a cloth. ‘What did you say, Percy?’
‘I said...’
She cut him off. ‘Is it true Sam?’
‘No. Well, I don’t know. We talked about it that’s all.’ He almost whined as he spoke.
‘You must have done more than talk,’ Emily insisted. ‘That’s a serious action the miners are proposing.’
Emily returned to the kitchen and dismissed Rosa for the day. She had a sense that when Gerald came home there might be some tense exchanges that were best not aired in front of the housekeeper.
It had gone dark and Mary had returned from teaching piano by the time Gerald arrived home. He sensed they’d got wind of it. Percy and Mary bombarded him with questions but Emily fended them off. ‘Let your father prepare for dinner and we will discuss this civilly.’
Gerald took his seat at the head of the table. He knew about the meeting of course.
‘This town cannot afford a strike,’ said Gerald. ‘The whole town relies on the income from those mines.’
Emily stopped eating and whispered. ‘Strike?’
‘Of course,’ said Gerald. ‘If the men won’t be lowered by the engine drivers how can they go to work?’
Now the focus was on Sam. He sorely wished it wasn’t. He didn’t have the answers they wanted. He just went to work, did his job and came home again. He left work at work. Other people were paid to tell him what to do.
‘I already said we only talked. No one said anything about striking,’ he said.
Gerald hurrumped. ‘They have not thought this through.’
He pushed his plate aside and left the table. He could have done with a drink to sit by the fireside with. As Gerald contemplated the wider implications of tonight’s resolution Mary’s thoughts turned to Archie for the first time in ages.
* * *
Bartie blocked the entrance to the hall elbowing William back into the street. A small unruly crowd of men spilled onto the road as the engine drivers held a meeting inside.
‘It’s our hall,’ William shouted. ‘You men belong to the Waihi Trade Union of Workers, as do every one of these men. You cannot have a separate meeting.’
Shouts erupted. ‘You cannot shut out your own union brothers.’
More disgruntled cheers. Then the crowd got techy. Bartie called for reinforcements to help shut the doors. This angered the crowd and they started banging on the windows and doors. The scene attracted onlookers and now there were women swelling the crowd as well.
Meanwhile about twenty engine drivers continued their discussions. Ollie Brewster shouted to be heard.
‘We’ve applied to the Minister of Labour to be registered under the Waihi Engine Drivers and Firemens’ Union. We have every confidence that this is legal for the following reason: in each industrial district there is to be only one union of the same kind. We are in the Auckland District. Auckland has the Auckland Engine Drivers’ Union but it does not include firemen. On that basis I believe our new union should be and will be registered.’
Archie stood to address the meeting. ‘I don’t agree that we should disassociate from our present union which is stronger in numbers. Look at us. We are forty two. Our present union has over one thousand. We lose a lot of bargaining power by going it alone.’
‘But we’re not alone,’ Ollie reasoned. ‘We will be affiliated to the whole Auckland District Engine Drivers’ Union.’
‘Besides,’ Bartie added. ‘Look where the union is heading. It’s got more militant since the Federation launched that newspaper. Have you read that stuff? It incites class war if you ask me. I’m not educated like you, Archie, but I know communism when I see it. It doesn’t do us any favours.’
Archie raised his eyebrows. That was a big speech from Bartie. The banging outside was relentless and suddenly Archie knew what he should do.
‘Gentlemen,’ he said tipping his hat and leaving the table. ‘Do what you must but I cannot abandon my core philosophy: an injury to one is an injury to all.’
Bartie scoffed.
‘Yes, I share that with the International Workers of the World,’ said Archie. ‘Worker solidarity gentlemen, not worker disparity.’ He pointed to the commotion outside. ‘You hear that? Do you think those men don’t understand solidarity? They do. That’s why they are going to such lengths to prevent you from your proposed actions.’ He walked towards the door. ‘But I can see I am outnumbered.’
Archie let the doors fly open to be nearly crushed by a fierce looking William.
‘No, no,’ Archie yelled. ‘I’m not against you, Will.’
William quietened the mob and Archie addressed the men. ‘What’s done is done. The new Engine Drivers’ Union has applied for registration.’
The men were stunned into silence until someone at the back called, ‘What now?’
William turned to face them. ‘We will meet here tomorrow to discuss it. As many of you as possible.’
The crowd was slow to disperse and after speaking briefly with William and Floyd, Archie wandered home. He’d hung his hat firmly with the miners even though for nearly two years now he’d been an engine driver. He was surprised to find that he enjoyed it; not as much as managing a mine, but the friendships he’d formed with Will and Ian in particular had made the time in Waihi bearable.
He knew what would happen now of course: the miners’ resolution would be enacted. That’s what would come out of tomorrow’s meeting. It couldn’t be clearer. The only technicality was that the union was not registered. It was as yet under consideration to be registered so theoretically was not a separate union. From what Ollie said there was no reason for it not to be registered. It was only a matter of timing.
Archie’s thoughts turned to Mary. He wondered who she would side with; her father or her brother. Poor Mary. Her household would be thrown into turmoil. As would plenty of others – Bartie had two boys underground and the lads lived at home. There would be debates in many households tonight, all trying to predict an outcome.
As Archie stepped inside his front gate a thought suddenly dawned on him. How could he have been so blind! His new housekeeper, Mrs. Bracewell, was the wife of an engine driver. He groaned. He didn’t have the stomach for it right now. Anyway, no use upsetting everyone before tomorrow’s meeting. It might turn out well, or it might not.
* * *
The mass meeting of the Waihi Trade Union of Workers filled the Union Hall to standing room only. The full executive fronted which comprised William as President, Floyd as Vice President, Ian as Secretary, and Garrick on committee.
On the stage was the full executive confidently led by William. Ian, as secretary also appeared relaxed in the charged atmosphere. He clamped down any nerves that threatened to crack his facade and focussed on the issue at hand. He reminded himself that he was in a position to influence these men’s decisions today and like as not every man he faced had similar stories to his, but he had a conviction to a groundswell of socialist philosophy that was second to none.
He caught the eye of Garrick who he could see was charged. The man was a good reliable worker but had not had the chance to prove himself in union negotiations. Ian knew that Garrick had in some small part joined to ensure that the pit ponies had some representations, although Garrick wouldn’t have voiced it quite so, plus he felt compelled to do something after Buster’s accident.
As usual Floyd was calm. He was the perfect vice president for the outgoing William; rational and considered, working quietly to gain the men’s confidence.
The meeting aired the actions of the engine drivers and finally resolved: That members of the Miners’ Union have ceased work until such time as the members of the Engine Drivers and Workers’ Union have rejoined
the Miners’ Union.
At four o’clock the following day the strike became official when the union executive waited at the winding shafts to instruct men not to go down. By the time the day shift had come up to the surface and the next shift assembled there were a thousand miners milling around. Last to come up were the horses, blinkered so as not to be blinded by the light.
Archie didn’t show for work but instead stood by his committee and his stance justified for more than a few men the rightness of the strike. If Archie saw sense in the reason behind it then surely the rest of the engine drivers could be persuaded, after all they were only forty two men and the miners were over a thousand.
Archie’s presence at the winding shafts helped lay an air of calm over the site and the miners let the engine drivers be, intimidated nevertheless.
Chapter Eight
Archie slept fitfully. He knew he would never go back to engine driving now. He had cast his dice and as far as he could see he’d thrown a double six for unity. He wondered if he should have done anything differently to prevent things coming to a head like this. He should have been more persuasive. He was a good negotiator. Why couldn’t he make his colleagues see reason? Surely they must realise that craft unionism was not effective.
He tossed and turned. Ann came into his mind. She was not happy. She was worried for the children. He reached across to her pillow and when he found it empty he rolled over and buried his head in it. How he missed her; she would have made this bearable. He suddenly felt very alone.
There was no reason to get up so early today. But he would of course; his inside clock still wanted him to go to work. He lay there a bit longer, his mind replaying everything that had happened. He felt a closeness to the engine drivers that encouraged him to try to talk them around. In fact, he felt duty bound. He almost blamed himself for not being strong enough.
Still no Mrs. Bracewell. That was to be expected. Fanny was old enough now to see Thomas washed and dressed. Archie sighed. She wasn’t old enough to see to the coal range or the porridge.
Soon he heard the children stir and he dragged himself out of bed. If Mrs. Bracewell didn’t show he had two options: he could stay in with the children or go out with them. Staying in wasn’t an option. He understood more keenly than most what was at stake, what they were fighting for. He had to be amongst it.
