There was plenty to be done. The renegades must be shepherded back to
the organization—shepherded or driven; Pelle took the most willing
first, allowing numbers to impress the rest. Those who were quite
stubborn he left to their own devices for the time being; when they
were isolated and marked men into the bargain, they could do no further
mischief.
He felt well rested, and went very methodically to work. The feeling
that his strength would hold out to the very end lent him a quiet
courage that inspired confidence. He was not over-hasty, but saw to
everything from the foundations upward; individual questions he
postponed until the conditions for solving them should be at hand. He
knew from previous experience that nothing could be accomplished unless
the ranks were tightly knit together.
So passed the remainder of the summer. And then the organization was
complete; it looked as though it could stand a tussle. And the first
question was the tariff. This was bad and antiquated; thoroughly behind
the times in all respects; the trade was groaning under a low rate of
wages, which had not kept step with the general development and the
augmentation of prices. But Pelle allowed his practical common sense to
prevail. The moment was not favorable for a demand for higher wages.
The organization could not lend the demand sufficient support; they
must for the time being content themselves with causing the current
tariff to be respected. Many of the large employers did not observe it,
although they themselves had introduced it. Meyer was a particularly
hard case; he made use of every possible shift and evasion to beat down
the clearest wages bill.
Complaints were continually coming in, and one day Pelle went to him in
order to discuss the situation and come to some agreement. He was
prepared to fight for the inviolability of the tariff, otherwise Meyer
would make big promises and afterward break them. He had really
expected Meyer to show him the door; however, he did not do so, but
treated him with a sort of polite effrontery. Hatred of his old enemy
awaked in Pelle anew, and it was all he could do to control himself.
“The embargo will be declared against you if you don’t come to an
arrangement with your workers within a week,” he said threateningly.
Meyer laughed contemptuously. “What’s that you say? Oh, yes, your
embargo, we know something about that! But then the employers will
declare a lock-out for the whole trade—what do you think of that? Old
hats will be selling cheap!”
Pelle was silent, and withdrew; it was the only way in which he could
succeed in keeping cool. He had said what had to be said, and he was no
diplomat, to smile quietly with a devil lurking in the corners of his
eyes.
Meyer obligingly accompanied him to the door. “Can I oblige you in any
other way—with work, for example? I could very well find room for a
worker who will make children’s boots and shoes.”
When Pelle reached the street he drew a long breath. Poof! That was
tough work; a little more insolence and he’d have given him one on the
jaw! That would have been the natural answer to the fellow’s
effrontery! Well, it was a fine test for his hot temper, and he had
stood it all right! He could always be master of the situation if he
held his tongue.
“Now suppose we do put an embargo on Meyer,” he thought, as he went
down the street. “What then? Why, then he’ll hit back and declare a
lock-out. Could we hold out? Not very long, but the employers don’t
know that—and then their businesses would be ruined. But then they
would introduce workers from abroad—or, if that didn’t answer, they
would get the work done elsewhere; or they would import whole cargoes
of machinery, as they have already begun to do on a small scale.”
Pelle stood still in the middle of the street. Damn it all, this
wouldn’t do! He must take care that he didn’t make a hash of the whole
affair. If these foreign workers and machines were introduced, a whole
host of men would in a moment be deprived of their living. But he
wanted to have a go at Meyer; there must be some means of giving the
bloodsucker a blow that he would feel in his purse!
Next morning he went as usual to Beck’s. Beck looked at him from over
his spectacles. “I’ve nothing more to do with you, Pelle,” he said, in
a low voice.
“What!” cried Pelle, startled. “But we’ve such a lot of work on hand,
master!”
“Yes, but I can’t employ you any longer. I’m not doing this of my own
free will; I have always been very well pleased with you; but that’s
how it stands. There are so many things one has to take into
consideration; a shoemaker can do nothing without leather, and one
can’t very well do without credit with the leather merchants.”
He would not say anything further.
But Pelle had sufficiently grasped the situation. He was the president
of the Shoemakers’ Union; Master Beck had been compelled to dismiss
him, by the threat of stopping his source of supplies. Pelle was a
marked man because he was at the head of the organization—although the
latter was now recognized. This was an offence against the right of
combination. Still there was nothing to be done about the matter; one
had the right to dismiss a man if one had no further need of him. Meyer
was a cunning fellow!
For a time Pelle drifted about dejectedly. He was by no means inclined
to go home to Ellen with this melancholy news; so he went to see
various employers in order to ask them for work. But as soon as they
heard who he was they found they had nothing for him to do. He saw that
a black mark had been set against his name.
So he must confine himself to home work, and must try to hunt up more
acquaintances of his acquaintances. And he must be ready day and night
lest some small shoemaker who muddled along without assistance should
suddenly have more to do than he could manage.
Ellen took things as they came, and did not complain. But she was
mutely hostile to the cause of their troubles. Pelle received no help
from her in his campaign; whatever he engaged in, he had to fight it
out alone. This did not alter his plans, but it engendered a greater
obstinacy in him. There was one side of his nature that Ellen’s
character was unable to reach; well, she was only a woman, after all.
One must be indulgent with her! He was kind to her, and in his thoughts
he more and more set her on a level with little Lasse. In that way he
avoided considering her opinion concerning serious matters—and thereby
felt more of a man.
Thanks to his small salary as president of his Union, they suffered no
actual privation. Pelle did not like the idea of accepting this salary;
he felt greatly inclined to refuse the few hundred kroner. There was
not a drop of bureaucratic blood in his veins, and he did not feel that
a man should receive payment for that which he accomplished for the
general good. But now this money came in very conveniently; and he had
other things to do than to make mountains out of molehills. He had
given up the embargo; but he was always racking his brains for some way
of getting at Meyer; it occupied him day and night.
One day his thoughts blundered upon Meyer’s own tactics. Although he
was quite innocent, they had driven him away from his work. How would
it be if he were to employ the same method and, quite secretly, take
Meyer’s workmen away from him? Meyer was the evil spirit of the
shoemaker’s craft. He sat there like a tyrant, thanks to his
omnipotence, and oppressed the whole body of workers. It would not be
so impossible to set a black mark against his name! And Pelle did not
mean to be too particular as to the means.
He talked the matter over with his father-in-law, whose confidence in
him was now restored. Stolpe, who was an old experienced tactician,
advised him not to convoke any meeting on this occasion, but to settle
the matter with each man face to face, so that the Union could not be
attacked. “You’ve got plenty of time,” he said. “Go first of all to the
trustworthy fellows, and make them understand what sort of a man Karl
Meyer is; take his best people away first of all; it won’t do him much
good to keep the bad ones. You can put the fear of God into your mates
when you want to! Do your business so well that no one will have the
courage any longer to take the place of those that leave him. He must
be branded as what he is—but between man and man.”
Pelle did not spare himself; he went from one comrade to another, fiery
and energetic. And what had proved impossible three years before he was
now able to accomplish; the resentment of Meyer’s injustice had sunk
into the minds of all.
Meyer had been in the habit of letting his workers run about to no
purpose; if the work was not quite ready for them they could call
again. And when the work was given out to them they had, as a rule, to
finish it with a rush; there was intention in this; it made the people
humble and submissive.
But now the boot was on the other leg. The workers did not call; they
did not deliver urgent commissions at the appointed time; Meyer had to
send to them, and got his own words as answer; they were not quite
ready yet, but they would see what they could do for him! He had to run
after his own workers in order not to offend his rich customers. In the
first instances he settled the matter, as a rule, by dismissal. But
that did not help him at all; the devil of arrogance had entered into
the simple journeymen! It looked as though they had got their ideas of
master and subordinate reversed! He had to give up trusting to the hard
hand on the rein; he must seek them out with fair words! His business
had the whole fashionable world as customer, and always required a
staff of the very best workers. But not even friendly approaches
availed. Scarcely did he find a good journeyman-worker but he was off
again, and if he asked the reason he always received the same jeering
answer: they didn’t feel inclined to work. He offered high wages, and
at great expense engaged qualified men from outside; but Pelle was at
once informed and immediately sought them out. When they had been
subjected to his influence only for a few days they went back to the
place they came from, or found other masters, who, now that Meyer’s
business was failing, were getting more orders. People who went to the
warehouse said that Meyer was raging about upstairs, abusing innocent
people and driving them away from him.
Meyer was conscious of a hand behind all this, and he demanded that the
Employers’ Union should declare a lock-out. But the other masters
scented a move for his benefit in this.
His own business was moribund, so he wanted to bring theirs to a
standstill also. They had no fundamental objection to the new state of
affairs; in any case they could see no real occasion for a lock-out.
So he was forced to give in, and wrote to Pelle requesting him to enter
into negotiations—in order to put an end to the unrest affecting the
craft. Pelle, who as yet possessed no skill in negotiations, answered
Meyer in a very casual manner, practically sending him about his
business. He showed his reply to his father-in-law before dispatching
it.
“No, deuce take it, that won’t do!” said Stolpe. “Look you, my lad,
everything depends on the tone you take, if you are dealing with labor
politics! These big folks think such a damn lot about the way a thing
is wrapped up! If I were setting about this business I’d come out with
the truth and chuck it in their faces—but that won’t answer; they’d be
so wild there’d be no dealing with them. Just a nice little lie—that
answers much better! Yes, yes, one has to be a diplomatist and set a
fox to catch a fox. Now you write what I tell you! I’ll give you an
example. Now—”
Stolpe paced up and down the room a while, with a thoughtful
expression; he was in shirt-sleeves and slippers and had thrust both
his forefingers in his waistcoat pockets. “Are you ready, son-in-law?
Then we’ll begin!”
“To the President of the Employers’ Union, Herre H. Meyer, Shoemaker to
the Court.
“Being in receipt of your honored favor of yesterday’s date hereby
acknowledged, I take the liberty of remarking that so far as is
known to me complete quiet and the most orderly conditions prevail
throughout the trade. There appears therefore to be no motive for
negotiation.
“For the Shoemakers’ Union,
“Your obedient servant,
“PELLE.”
“There, that’s to the point, eh? Napoleon himself might have put his
name to that! And there’s enough sting to it, too!” said Stolpe, much
gratified. “Now write that out nicely, and then get a big envelope.”
Pelle felt quite important when he had written this out on a big sheet
of paper; it was like an order of the day issued by a sheriff or
burgomaster at home. Only in respect of its maliciousness he
entertained a certain doubt.
One morning, a few days later, he was sitting at home working. In the
meantime he had been obliged to undertake casual jobs for sailors in
the harbor, and now he was soling a pair of sea-boots for a seaman on
board a collier. On the other side of the bench sat little Lasse,
chattering and aping his movements, and every time Pelle drove a peg
home the youngster knocked his rattle against the edge of the table,
and Pelle smiled at him. Ellen was running in and out between the
living-room and the kitchen. She was serious and silent.
There was a knock at the door. She ran to the stove, snatching away
some of the child’s linen which was drying there, ran out, and opened
the door.
A dark, corpulent gentleman in a fur overcoat entered, bowing, holding
his tall hat before him, together with his gloves and stick. Pelle
could not believe his eyes—it was the Court shoemaker! “He’s come to
have it out!” thought Pelle, and prepared himself for a tussle. His
heart began to thump, there was a sudden sinking inside him; his old
submissiveness was on the point of coming to the surface and mastering
him. But that was only for a moment; then he was himself again. Quietly
he offered his guest a chair.
Meyer sat down, looking about the neat, simple room as though he wanted
to compare his enemy’s means with his own before he made a move. Pelle
gathered something from his wandering glance, and suddenly found
himself considerably richer in his knowledge of human nature. “He’s
sitting there staring about him to see if something has gone to the
pawnshop,” he thought indignantly.
“H’m! I have received your favor of the other day,” began Meyer. “You
are of opinion that there is no occasion for a discussion of the
situation; but—however—ah—I think—”
“That is certainly my opinion,” answered Pelle, who had resolved to
adhere to the tone of the letter. “The most perfect order prevails
everywhere. But generally speaking it would seem that matters ought to
go smoothly now, when we each have our Union and can discuss affairs
impartially.” He gazed innocently at Meyer.
“Ah, you think so too! It cannot be unknown to you that my workers have
left me one after another—not to say that they were taken away from me.
Even to please you I can’t call those orderly conditions.”
Pelle sat there getting angrier and angrier at his finicking tone. Why
the devil couldn’t he bluster like a proper man instead of sitting
there and making his damned allusions? But if he wanted that sort of
foolery he should have it! “Ah! your people are leaving you?” he said,
in an interested manner.
“They are,” said Meyer, and he looked surprised. Pelle’s tone made him
feel uncertain. “And they are playing tricks on me; they don’t keep to
their engagements, and they keep my messengers running about to no
purpose. Formerly every man came to get his work and to deliver it, but
now I have to keep messengers for that; the business can’t stand it.”
“The journeymen have had to run about to no purpose—I myself have
worked for you,” replied Pelle. “But you are perhaps of opinion that we
can better bear the loss of time?”
Meyer shrugged his shoulders. “That’s a condition of your livelihood—
its conditions are naturally based on order. But if only I could at
least depend on getting hands! Man, this can’t go on!” he cried
suddenly, “damn and blast it all, it can’t go on, it’s not honorable!”
Little Lasse gave a jump and began to bellow. Ellen came hurrying in
and took him into the bedroom.
Pelle’s mouth was hard. “If your people are leaving you, they must
surely have some reason for it,” he replied; he would far rather have
told Meyer to his face that he was a sweater! “The Union can’t compel
its members to work for an employer with whom perhaps they can’t agree.
I myself even have been dismissed from a workshop—but we can’t bother
two Unions on those grounds!” He looked steadily at his opponent as he
made this thrust; his features were quivering slightly.
“Aha!” Meyer responded, and he rubbed his hands with an expression that
seemed to say that—now at last he felt firm ground under his feet.
“Aha—so it’s out at last! So you’re a diplomatist into the bargain—a
great diplomatist! You have a clever husband, little lady!” He turned
to Ellen, who was busying herself at the sideboard. “Now just listen,
Herre Pelle! You are just the man for me, and we must come to an
arrangement. When two capable men get talking together something always
comes of it— it couldn’t be otherwise! I have room for a capable and
intelligent expert who understands fitting and cutting. The place is
well paid, and you can have a written contract for a term of years.
What do you say to that?”
Pelle raised his head with a start. Ellen’s eyes began to sparkle, and
then became mysteriously dark; they rested on him compellingly, as
though they would burn their purpose into him. For a moment he gazed
before him, bewildered. The offer was so overpowering, so surprising;
and then he laughed. What, what, was he to sell himself to be the
understrapper of a sweater!
“That won’t do for me,” he replied.
“You must naturally consider my offer,” said Meyer, rising. “Shall we
say three days?”
When the Court shoemaker had gone, Ellen came slowly back and laid her
arm round Pelle’s shoulders. “What a clever, capable man you are,
then!” she said, in a low voice, playing with his hair; there was
something apologetic in her manner. She said nothing to call attention
to the offer, but she began to sing at her work. It was a long time
since Pelle had heard her sing; and the song was to him like a radiant
assurance that this time he would be the victor.