by Lily Ennis
Percy laughed. ‘Why is it I can evade everyone in this town but you?’
‘Is this your idea?’ Mary asked pointing to the basket.
Percy was mute.
‘Or can I mention it to mother?’
‘No, no. Don’t do that.’
Mary smiled. ‘It’s very kind of you, Percy.’
‘Don’t tell Jack either, please.’
‘The housekeeper doesn’t know?’
Percy shook his head. ‘I leave it in the tree house.’
‘Come on,’ said Mary turning back the way she came. ‘I’ll walk you home. I’ve been to see William this morning and I was going to tell the children, but it can wait.’
Mary was pleased to have some time with Percy. There didn’t seem to be the time these days, to chat like they used to; everyone was so absorbed by the strike. Besides, it was different without their father. Mary supposed it must be hard for Percy. Now that she thought about it, Percy was rather quiet; self-absorbed, still blaming himself for his father’s death perhaps. Suddenly he seemed more like a man than her little brother, he certainly was taller than her now.
‘Percy,’ she began. ‘Did you ever find out who was harassing us?’
Percy bit his lip. ‘Nope.’
‘Oh, well. At least it’s stopped. It was obviously directed at Dad.’
They crossed the main street, which was bustling with activity outside the hall, and weaved down the hill.
‘Are you...’ Mary hesitated. ‘Are you... siding with the Federationists now?’
Percy spluttered. ‘Don’t be ridiculous!’
Mary nodded, subconsciously mimicking Archie’s little double nod. ‘Dad wouldn’t want you to change your mind. He was a man of principle.’
Percy felt a welling up in his throat. ‘You almost did.’
‘I didn’t in the end though, did I?’
Percy didn’t answer.
‘I wish I could make it better at home,’ said Mary. ‘You know, with Sam.’
‘He thinks he’s won.’
‘I’m sure he does. He hardly says a word to me anymore.’
‘It’s just his way, sis. Don’t pay him any mind.’ Percy tried to make a little laugh. ‘Sam just wants to work.’
They turned into Kenny Street and quickened their step as home came into view.
Percy held the gate open for Mary. ‘Remember what you promised.’
Chapter Twenty Six
Archie and Ian stood on the platform awaiting the arrival of Malachi O’Grady and Terrence Winterbottom on the train from Auckland. The men were part of the first strikers sent to gaol and they’d had enough of it. They’d found their ten pound sureties thereby pledging to keep the peace.
‘I see the rakes are back hauling ore to Waikino,’ said Ian.
Archie grunted. ‘The battery’s crushing twenty four hours a day. Men are coming back from Auckland to work.’
Ian fidgeted with his collar. ‘There’ll be a full workforce now. An unsanctioned workforce,’ he added.
The train drew in and the ex-prisoners alighted. They looked gaunt, the suits they’d worn to gaol now hanging on them. Archie and Ian quickly surrounded them, escorting them away from the press and any Arbitrationists that had gathered to meet their own kind.
‘Looks like you’ve had a rough time of it, boys,’ said Ian.
‘Let’s just say it’s grand to be home,’ said Malachi. He glanced at the people milling around the platform. ‘No welcoming committee for a martyr?’
Ian grunted. ‘You were a martyr, but now you’re a traitor.’
‘What?’
‘It’s not what I’m saying. But you might want to keep your heads low for a few days,’ Ian replied. ‘Besides, you’re not a good advertisement for gaol.’
‘From what I hear you need every available man to defend the hall day and night,’ said Malachi.
Terrence grinned. ‘If you thought we’re only home because we were sick of the food you’re wrong. We’re itching for action. And we weren’t getting it stuck in gaol.’
Archie tore his hands through his hair. ‘Oh God.’
Ian grabbed Malachi by the arm. ‘Listen to me. We’re not going to win if we resort to violence. You’ve used your get out of gaol free card. Next time you go it’s for real.’
Malachi shrugged Ian’s arm away. ‘Thanks for the welcome party boys. Me and Terrence are going to avail ourselves of one of Mrs. Tattersall’s fish suppers before we embark on our rightful union activities. Come along Terrence.’
Archie and Ian stood gaping after them.
‘Round up the rest of the committee,’ Archie barked. ‘Now.’
* * *
‘The men returning from gaol aren’t returning for genuine reasons,’ Archie explained to the men gathered in his dining room. ‘They seem hell bent on causing trouble.’ He wrung his hands. ‘I fear they’ve lost sight of the cause.’
Mary set tea and fresh bread on the table.
‘Those two you met off the train will have gone straight to get arms,’ said Mary. ‘I know that O’Grady family. The mother’s as mad as a cut snake. She’ll egg him on.’
There was agreement around the table. Mary pulled up a seat.
‘I think we could do with some good press right now,’ she continued. ‘The newspapers have no interest in the facts. They insist on projecting their preferred outcome on proceedings. They trumpet that more and more miners are returning to work in defiance of the union’s insistence that the company cannot employ men outside the original Miners’ Union. They’re predicting it’s only a matter of time before there will be no mining work left for those who persist in holding out. They’re already saying the union is beaten.’
‘That’s scaremongering,’ snapped Garrick.
‘It is,’ Archie agreed. ‘And it’s supposed to be. The government and the government’s puppet newspapers have been tireless in their campaign to suppress the voice of the working class.’
‘And this sort of talk is designed to depress our strikers into thinking we’ve lost when we are far from it,’ agreed Ian. ‘We could lose a lot yet.’
‘More than that,’ said Mary. ‘They’re saying the union is doing a disservice; that the union is unjust in denying its members the chance to return to work while the positions are available. To hold out any longer and risk having no job to go back to is being put squarely on the union’s shoulders.’
Ian picked up a knife and waved it in the air. ‘It’s a serious attack on morale,’ he said. ‘The charitable aid board turned down some women today,’ said Mary. ‘That’s a very serious attack on morale; their husbands in gaol as well. They’re also blaming the actions of the women on the union, saying that we are being encouraged to make public exhibitions of ourselves.’
Archie smiled. He suspected what was coming.
‘Did Kate Sheppard fight for women’s suffrage for nothing? Does our right to think for ourselves and to vote not extend to our right to support our own men? I condemn the capitalist newspapers for belittling women’s role in this struggle.’
She banged her fist on the table. The men were mute and Mary bit the inside of her cheek.
Archie cleared his throat. ‘I think we’re agreed on the present situation,’ he said. ‘What we need is a plan.’
‘The company has undermined our position by not talking to us,’ said Ian.
‘Why would they talk to us when all along they’ve said the argument is between the engine drivers and us,’ said Garrick.
‘Because there were already discussions on the table,’ said Ian. ‘And the outcome of those discussions would affect members of the Waihi Miners’ Union. And now the scabs have joined a new union the company sees the Waihi Miners’ Union as defunct.’
‘But if we were to go into talks?’ asked Leonard.
‘They won’t have it,’ said Archie. ‘It’s too late.’
‘Then how can we achieve what we set out to do,’ asked Leonard, ‘if the company d
oesn’t see us as having any power?’ He slumped in his chair. ‘The company must be laughing behind its hands at us.’
Archie stood up. ‘I know it feels like we’ve got our backs to the wall but we must not give up the struggle. Our union members depend on us. They have endured twenty long weeks of strike action in the expectation of better conditions and fair pay, not just for themselves but for the miners who will come after them. Those who have stoically and bravely held out understand that the struggle is bigger than a single battle in Waihi. They should be rewarded for their conviction and they shall be rewarded. We mustn’t let them down and they mustn’t resort to violence for if they go to gaol now we’ll have let them down as surely as if we’d nailed their coffin.’
Archie saw the men to the door then without a word he embraced Mary. They hugged tightly with Archie’s words hanging heavy in the air.
* * *
On the back of the committee meeting came a mass meeting at the hall with members of the Federation and union executive giving speeches. Archie presided, making a personal announcement.
‘Tonight I want to begin by informing you that your acting vice-president, Ian McCardie, became a father to a new son yesterday, who he’s named Andrew.’ Archie held a fist in the air. ‘Another boy who will grow into a working man, a working class man – a miner like his dad.’
Archie let the crowd roar then he lowered his voice. ‘We are here tonight as the result of a long stand-off with the employing class. We are here for our future, for your sons’ futures and for their sons’ futures. The outcomes of our grievous struggle will mean a better future for all working class men and their families.’
Archie slowly paced the stage. The crowd was hot-footed and cheered at anything. He introduced Jim Campbell.
‘My men, on your behalf, have tirelessly traipsed the country from the Cape to the Bluff putting across your plight and seeking financial support. From my short stay here in Waihi over the last few days I’ll tell the country what I’ve seen with my own eyes; that the police and the scabs are trying to promote disorder, that they use every means possible to incite the strikers to violence.
‘But I have seen that you men of Waihi are too well under control to lend yourselves to such tactics, no matter how great the provocation.’
The strike committee eyed each other. Jim couldn’t have put it better.
‘The days of winning fights by violence,’ Jim continued, ‘are over. Violence has no place in our protests. We are quite happy to leave that to the police and the scabs.’
Jim sat down to vigorous applause then Richard Burnside took the floor.
‘I reiterate that the rest of the country shall know of the true position of the police and the scabs in Waihi, and the honourable restrained behaviour of the strikers,’ he began. ‘We workers observe law and order of the capitalist class, but we will never respect it.
The only law and order we will respect will be the law and order that is established when capitalism is overthrown. Up until now all laws have been made by masters to serve their own purpose.’
Richard let his words sink in before continuing.
‘Some say that New Zealand would be immune from the severities imminent in capitalist production because of our geographical position in the world. But look at Waihi. We are embroiled in a struggle as our comrades in England have been embroiled in the coalmines struggle. Waihi dispels this fallacy that we in New Zealand live in some sort of utopia. Waihi proves that the class struggle is not confined to any country but manifests itself in every nook and cranny of the globe.
‘Before I hand over to Ernie Hardcastle I want to personally thank each and every one of you for embarking on this course of action. It was never meant to be so long and you and your families have suffered greatly. But hold on. Have faith.’
Ernie addressed the hall which slowly over the evening had seen a steady trickle of newcomers squeeze in to stand around the sides and rear.
‘I see a fierce struggle in Waihi, but it should not be surprising. As my colleague said, the fight in Waihi merely echoes what has been happening in other older countries. It was Marx who said ‘The country that is more highly developed industrially only shows to the less developed the image of its own future.’ Therefore we must look to the National Coal Strike in Great Britain for strength. If it weren’t for that industrial action their Minimum Wage Act would not exist.
‘But I come back to Waihi. The police! Whilst I have the utmost respect for the force as a whole it is outrageous that individuals have been allowed to gallop along the pavement in pursuit of women and children.
‘At Waikino on Friday evening while I was waiting for the train with Jim, we were mobbed by a howling crowd of scabs, who only refrained from doing us personal violence because like all scabs, they are cowardly curs. Where were the police you ask? The police were not fifty yards away, cheering the scabs on!’
The crowd booed and Ernie held his hands up for quiet.
‘Jim and I did not respond in kind. We continued with the good courage, the peaceful tactics we have used since the inception of the strike.’
Archie wound up the proceedings. ‘Please walk peacefully straight to your homes,’ he implored. ‘I am aware of a scab presence outside the hall and they will taunt you. They want you to respond. But please, follow the example of your union and the Federation. Do not resort to violence.’
As the men peeled out Archie checked his pocket watch. Mary would have put the children down by now. She’d be poring through the writings of Marx and Weber, trying to pick out what would be relevant in the Waihi struggle. Archie smiled to himself and hurried home to her. He was too lucky to have the love of such a woman.
* * *
The town was abuzz with the arrival of the police commissioner, Frederick Redfern and the Minister for Mines, the Honourable Maxwell Blackwood. Speculation and conjecture was rife as George Graham met the men from the train and conveyed them directly to the company offices.
The men were locked in talks for two days with the company officials but no invitation was made to the Waihi Miners’ Union. Then on Friday afternoon those very same officials in company with scabs from the Martha and Grand Junction Mines marched down the Martha Hill and along the main street, the empty brakes following behind.
Archie, Ian and Garrick were speechless at this new tactic.
‘Keep calm, boys,’ Archie instructed. Then he saw Joe marching with them but Joe quickly looked away. Archie marched alongside.
‘What’s the meaning of this, Joe?’ Archie called. ‘Are the scabs so frightened of a few peaceful picketers they need to hold the hand of the management?’
Joe marched on. At the foot of Seddon Street the procession boarded the brakes and under police escort, the workers were driven home.
The following day Mary took Thomas to Emily’s so she could picket with Archie at noon.
‘Mary, please be careful,’ said Emily. ‘Sam told me what’s been happening. I don’t like the sound of it.’
‘I’ll be all right, ma. I’ll be with Archie.’
‘But don’t you see? That’s what makes it worse. That man is a target.’
‘That man is my future husband,’ said Mary. ‘That man is my paladin. He won’t let me come to any harm.’
Mary hugged her mother. She wished Emily would come but she knew Emily would never dishonour the memory of Gerald.
‘Enjoy Thomas,’ Mary said as she left. ‘And thanks.’
Mary met Archie on the street and handed him a placard.
‘Here they come,’ a voice in the crowd shouted.
The picketers were unusually quiet as they jostled for a view of the scabs. The mine officials led the procession of scabs whose numbers this time were bolstered by a contingent from Waikino.
‘Look at yourselves,’ a picketer scoffed. ‘Puppets on a lead you are, dirty scabs.’
‘Black legs,’ others called.
The procession marched to the bottom of Seddo
n Street again but this time it turned to retrace its steps picking up shop keepers and other townsfolk along the route.
‘Cockroaches,’ the picketers yelled.
A dark skinned man slipped into the head of the procession swaggering with an attitude that defied anyone to remove him from the coveted spot. He shouted obscenities at the picketers much to the dismay of management which marched directly behind him. Suddenly the man dived into the picketers and took a swing at Leonard who wrestled the man to the ground and laid him out with a punch to the head before anyone could pull him off.
Half a dozen scabs came to the aid of the man and the picketers quickly pulled Leonard away, commending him on his quick reactions. Leonard heard a warning cry from behind but before he could turn around a horse was upon him and knocked him and two others to the ground.
The unrest spread quickly to the entire length of the procession. The touch paper had been lit.
Mary found herself shoved in the melee and a scab tore her placard from her. He proceeded to beat Archie with it until they were joined by a couple more scabs who wildly threw their fists about. Mary beat her fists on the back of a scab until she was torn away by his supporters.
A couple of policemen saw that Archie was under attack and immediately positioned their mounts so the attackers had a clear ring. He took a number of blows with fists and then with batons until he was beaten and it was only now that the police thought Archie had had enough that they dispersed the attackers.
‘Oh, Archie,’ Mary gasped. She cradled his bloody head on her lap. She scowled at the police. ‘Are you pleased with yourselves? You will not get away with this.’
‘I don’t know what you can mean, miss,’ he smirked. ‘I broke up the fight between the Arbitrationists and Federationists as quickly as I could.’
‘Yes,’ Mary spat. ‘You practice your speech for court, for that’s where I’ll see you. In court!’
A call went along the street for the picketers to retreat.
Ian climbed upon a rake. ‘It’s clear that the scabs and cockroaches are backed by the police. Today we are outnumbered. They got what they wanted today, a riot in the main street of Waihi. But we are outnumbered. Strikers, go home. Go home to your wives. You have acted honourably whilst the capitalist owners hide behind the police and their commissioner and the Minister of Mines. We will take our fight into the courtroom after today, mark my words.’
