The Coal War (33 page)

But if the General thought that he could tame the spirit of either Mary Burke or Mrs. David, he miscalculated. The freedom of woman's tongue is an institution which has managed to survive many different kinds of despotism. They were in the second story of the jail, in adjoining cells, and they would stand at the windows, and when they saw strikers passing, they would sing the union song in chorus. Mrs. David clamored to see her husband, and finally this permission was granted, on condition that a militiaman should be present during the interview. It gave the little woman keen delight to circumvent this order by conversing with her husband in Welsh!

Mrs. Olson made an effort to visit Mary, but was turned back. As for Hal, he knew that he could do nothing; he would only add fuel to the flame of slander—and possibly get himself shipped out of the district again. He went to Captain Harding, to try to persuade that officer to intervene—but in vain. There was a vehement dispute between the two, for Hal told his cousin exactly what he thought of him, and the opinion was not flattering.

Eleven days passed, and Mary came out, with her Irish complexion faded, but her Irish tongue as sharp as ever. It was a sorrowful home-coming, for little Jennie's breast was swollen, with a big black bruise, corresponding to the shape of the toe of an Adjutant-General's boot. The doctor took it seriously—such things often turned into cancer, he said. Poor Mary almost fainted when she heard this; for she had seen old John Edstrom's wife die of cancer, up in North Valley, and in her mind was the memory of a ghastly stench.

Yes, these were black days for the Burke family. Mary had worked so hard for her young brother and sister—pinching and scraping, sewing, scrubbing, scheming. She would pull them through, and when they grew up, her life would be free from its heaviest burden. But now they were both of them to be cripples! Tommie was up again, but had to have a crutch, and would never be able to run and play like other boys.

Hal's heart was wrung with pity; and the “poetry-books”, as Mary called them, record the psychological subtlety that “pity moves the soul to love”. The clouds of despair which overhung Mary Burke's life would be shot through with sunshine—if only Hal were to follow the impulse which was now seldom quiet in him. He would find himself alone in a tent with the girl, and would want to put his arms about her, and let her cry out her grief upon his shoulder. Why should he not do it? Why should he pay heed to warning voices which could be only survivals of old prejudices, old cruel instincts of caste?

The world outside, Hal's world of culture and “refinement”, would say that he was slipping into a pit, that he was becoming demoralized, here in this intimacy with low people. But what did he care what his world thought about him? Was he not bracing himself in a furious struggle against it? How long would it be before he was ready to cast the die, to burn his bridges behind him, to take the final plunge—to do whatever mixture of metaphors might express the awfulness of the temptation which beset him—to clasp to his heart in the intimacy of love a low-caste woman, the daughter of a drunken miner!

It was a fire smouldering inside his heart, and threatening to burst into conflagration. He would speculate about Mary, what she was thinking and feeling. Did she smell the smoke? What would she do if suddenly the flames were to leap out and seize her? He would have an impulse to go and find out; but instead he would turn in a fire-alarm, and a whole department would respond with hurry and clamor—the great water-tower of Brother Edward, with its powerful stream of worldly counsel, and the chemical engine of religious asceticism driven by the Reverend William Wilmerding, and the hook and ladder rescue-truck with Jessie Arthur lashing the horses to a gallop!

But this rescue-truck was far away, and might not always arrive on time. Letters from Jessie came to him frequently, pitiful and touching—the protests carefully veiled, nothing expressed but gentle pleading. If they failed of their effect upon Hal, it was because of the distrust of his own world which was storing itself up day by day in his heart. He was coming to believe in nothing in this world any more. He could not ever see it as it wanted to be seen, a place of ease and graciousness and charm; he saw it only as it appeared to striking coal-miners—a club that came down on one's head, a bayonet that was plunged into one's vitals.

[35]

What saved Hal from these passionate allurements was hard work: the burdens that kept falling upon his shoulders, the new efforts that clamored to be made. No sooner was Wilmerding's pamphlet printed and sent out than John Harmon came with a new plan. In their campaign to break down the conspiracy of silence of the news agencies, the miners sought to persuade Congress to appoint a committee to investigate the strike. Would Hal go to Washington and try his luck in the role of lobbyist? It was unfortunate, but true, that members of Congress would be more impressed by one member of the leisure class than by any number of working-people.

So Hal took the three-day journey, and appeared before the “House Committee on Mines and Mining”. Partly as a result of his testimony, and partly of the statements which he read from Wilmerding's report, the resolution was carried, and a sub-committee of five members of Congress set out for the West.

Here was a great opportunity! In Western City, Wilmerding got busy and persuaded a friend of his, a professor at Harrigan, to represent the miners as counsel. This was Professor Purdue, the “authority on constitutional law” whom the clergyman had been so bold as to cite to General Wrightman. He came to Pedro, arriving only the day before the congressmen, so that he had to put his witnesses on the stand without having a chance to talk with them in advance: which any lawyer must admit was a severe test for the most learned “authority upon constitutional law”!

The coal-operators were represented by Bernard Vagleman and Judge Evans, an eminent statesman of Pedro. At the beginning of the strike Hal had found himself horrified at the idea that gentlemen who had been to college, and held high rank in the honored legal profession, could be guilty of “framing up” evidence against low-down, pitiful coal-strikers. But now Hal was on the inside, where he could see Messrs. Vagleman and Evans at work day by day. And when he had got through with this investigation-battle, nobody could ever talk to him about the ethics of corporation-attorneys!

The battle was hottest about the question of “peonage” in the camps. The American public does not care so much what is done to strikers, but the “scab” is a sacred personage; has not a revered college-president hailed him as the “true American hero”? So now the strike-leaders wished to prove the fact that hundreds of these true American heroes from Russia and Bohemia and Italy and Greece were being kept by force in coal-camp stockades, and worked practically as slaves. But the difficulty with these heroes, as you found when you came to deal with them, was that they were terrified by their heroic experiences; they were hard to get hold of, and still harder to keep. Also, alas, they sometimes consented to take bribes, and to repudiate their affidavits at a moment's notice; even when they were sincere, they were so ignorant that they could hardly make themselves understood.

The strikers presented a Roumanian who had been “shanghaied” in Pittsburg, brought to North Valley in a locked steel car with an armed guard, and put to work at the point of a revolver in the hands of Hal's old pit-boss, Alec Stone. The man had worked for two months, and his total credit for this time had amounted to twenty-two dollars and eighty-seven cents—applied onto his transportation from Pittsburg! Four times he had attempted to make his escape, and been driven back by militiamen.

And now came Vagleman and Evans, to discredit this testimony. They put on the stand a Russian strike-breaker who swore that Tim Rafferty, Johann Hartman and two of the strikers had met him in a room at union headquarters and paid him money to give false testimony in this matter of “peonage”. It happened that at the time the testimony was given all four of the accused men were in the room; Tim Rafferty was seated on the platform within ten or fifteen feet of the witness, and he signalled to Hal, who saw the opportunity, and tipped off Professor Purdue. The Professor announced to the committee that the accused men were present, and suggested that the witness should confirm his story by identifying them.

Vagleman of course made objection, but the chairman of the committee insisted upon the test, and Hal stepped across the room and deliberately placed himself in front of the lawyer, making it impossible for him to give signals to the witness. So the poor fellow sat there, gazing blankly at the rows of faces in the room, unable to pick out a single one of those he accused.

“I protest against this!” cried Vagleman, excitedly. “The lights are bad, the witness cannot see the people.”

“Very well,” said Professor Purdue. “Let the lights be raised.”

While this was being done, Vagleman moved a little to one side; but Hal followed suit, standing within three feet of the lawyer, and looking at him. The lawyer knew quite well what he was there for, and was white with rage. “This is a farce! “he cried. “The witness can't see the men! They're too far away.”

“Let him move towards the audience, if he wishes to,” said Professor Purdue. “The men are in plain sight. The committee can see every one of them. We shall point them out afterwards.”

The little drama went on for several minutes. Another of the operators' attorneys attempted to signal to the witness, but Professor Purdue appealed to the chairman, and there was a lively scene, at the end of which the accused attorney sat still. The result was that the “frame-up” collapsed completely, and the committee declared the witness discredited.

[36]

So the eminent lawyers had to arrange something else. At the request of Professor Purdue, the committee was keeping the “peonage” witnesses in a separate room, and the counsel for the operators brought down the camp interpreter from North Valley, and smuggled him into the room where the committee's witnesses were kept. It happened that Hal got a glimpse of the man and recognized him—his old enemy Jake Predovich! He told Professor Purdue about it, and the Professor brought the matter to the attention of the committee, and there was a great to-do. At first Vagleman attempted to deny all knowledge of it, then he pleaded that no harm had been intended. The chairman expressed his indignation in no uncertain terms, and they paid Vagleman back by putting Predovich on the witness-stand, and forcing him to testify concerning his treatment of strike-breakers. Whenever these charges of “peonage” were brought, the operators were always ready to prove that the victim had signed a paper declaring that he came with the full knowledge that he was to work as a strikebreaker. It had been noticed that these signatures were somewhat alike, and now the Galician interpreter was forced to admit that he had written over fifty signatures himself!

Then again, there came testimony concerning a group of strikers who had flagged a train. A Schultz detective had witnessed this episode, but had not identified the man who led the strikers, and he now tried to get this information from Jim Moylan, coming up to him in the course of the session and starting a conversation. Moylan, who knew the man, saw what he was up to, and mentioned quite casually that Vink Santifonti, the Italian organizer, had “handled that job”. So the detective went away in triumph. At last the operators had something big!

They took the trouble to notify the editor of Vagleman's paper, the Pedro “Star”, to be on hand for that session, as an important revelation was coming, and he would wish to describe the scene. The Schultz detective took the witness-stand, and, under the skillful guidance of Vagleman, told a detailed story about the flagging of the train and the dragging off of strike-breakers. He pointed out Vink Santifonti in the audience, declaring that he was the man who had led the raid. A paid organizer, a responsible official of the United Mine Workers! There was a stir in the committee, and a chuckle of delight from the strikers; Vink Santifonti took the stand and presented a copy of the proceedings of the recent annual convention of the Mine Workers, proving that he had made a speech in Indianapolis on the day the train was held up!

Nor was this the end of the troubles of Vagleman and Evans. The latter eminent citizen was fighting valiantly for his employers, but they had only recently employed him, and previous to that he had been their political opponent. Now came witnesses to testify to evil doings of the coal-companies in Pedro County, and Judge Evans would riddle these witnesses with the arrows of his sarcasm. Professor Purdue let him go on in this way for a week, and then produced a stenographic record of a political speech which the Judge had made two years before, describing in detail all the conditions of which the miners complained! He had told how political conventions were “fixed”, the delegates being selected and sent down by the superintendents of the coal-camps; how the political leaders got together in a back room of the Palace Hotel up in Western City and named the “slate”. “‘We will take for county clerk So-and-so; he is a good man for the purpose.' Some other man says, ‘But I think within the last eight or ten months he has had trouble with some pit-boss.' He isn't right with the company, and they don't want him; he goes off the slate. And so it is from bottom to top—the candidates are selected, not with a view to their fitness, not with a view to their ability to discharge their duty, not with a view to their integrity, but ‘are they satisfactory to the company?' If they are, that settles it.”

And when Judge Evans was cross-questioned about this speech, he admitted he had made it, but explained that he had not said the companies controlled the officials—he had only said they controlled the
nomination
of the officials! When he had stated that lawyers did not dare to bring damage-suits against the companies, because they were afraid the companies would “black-list them and be against them politically and in every other way”—what he had desired his audience to understand was that this was the fault of the lawyers, not of the companies! The lawyers feared these things, but their fears were groundless, the companies never really did such things at all!