Public panic as butchers strike
Things turned a bit unruly during a month-long butchers strike 100 years ago, writes Tina White.
Auckland city, Saturday, November 15, 1919: Earlymorning weekend crowds were growing, jostling each other and elbowing their way through the doors of Queen St butchers’ shops.
The Auckland butchers’ strike, brewing for the previous 10 days, was about to start.
With 236 men off the job, and several butchers’ shops closed, shoppers were up early, scrambling to get their weekend roasts at all costs.
The Dominion, via the Press Association, reported that morning: ‘‘It’s understood the master butchers will keep their shops open and it’s expected no difficulty will be found obtaining a full supply of meat. It’s possible, however, that no deliveries will be made.’’ However, as the New Zealand
Herald later told its readers, things weren’t exactly genteel during that first day of the strike.
‘‘The scenes . . . must have brought vividly to the minds of onlookers descriptions of those terrible war days in England . . . when rich and poor alike besieged the shops and almost fought for their scanty dole of food.
‘‘In accordance with the terms of their threat, the butchers’ shopmen and carters failed to appear when opening time came for shops . . .
‘‘The Auckland Meat Company suffered most, only two of its branches, at Wakefield St and Parnell, being opened. Messrs
R&W Hellaby fared better, 17 of 24 branches being opened for business. The small butchers were able to carry on.’’
The Herald continued: ‘‘The two chief companies understood that all their managers would refrain from striking, but this was not realised, owing it was said to one man, who was looked up to by others, giving way at the last moment.
‘‘Principals of the firm and higher officials had to take their coats off and busily ply chopper and knife in order to cope with the steady flow of customers.’’
The public panic had its lighter moments, noted by reporters dispatched around town.
‘‘Occasional bewildered appeals were made to the manager by those who learned for the first time the difference between ‘forequarters’ and ‘leg’ lying on a butcher’s block awaiting dissection . . . in the waiting crowd [were] professional gentlemen with high collars reading carefully from slips of paper; well-dressed women with large shopping baskets on their arm, whose previous business with butchers’ shops had obviously been strictly confined to the telephone; little girls and boys whose heads barely reached the counter.
‘‘Stout women battled their way to the front; the men seemed to feel themselves on unfamiliar ground, and meekly gave way. ‘Why don’t you make them form a queue?’ mildly inquired one elderly gentleman, taking his place at the counter after half an hour’s jostling and waiting. The shopman dabbed his hand across his perspiring brow. ‘Form a queue!’ he echoed. ‘And me here on my own? You try it yourself!’ ’’
It seemed many prudent housewives had planned ahead and bought their Sunday-dinner supplies on the Friday, but many more had not.
Agroup of Butchers’ Union ‘‘scouts’’, on their way to a meeting, discovered that the manager of a Hellaby’s shop had kept it open. When he refused to close, ‘‘his refusal was treated with taunts and jeers, members of other unions who were on their way to work taking part in the demonstration’’.
On their way back, the men again called at the shop.
‘‘The ranks of the strikers were swelled by other men, until there was a crowd of about 500 on the footpath and street.
‘‘Soon the crowd, howling and surging, had worked itself up to a pitch of excitement. The crowd scattered when a party of 27 police arrived on the scene, but in the rush a small boy was pushed against a large plate glass window of the shop, and it broke.’’
The strike had had its prelude back on November 5, when the executive of the Auckland Master
Butchers’ Association had decided not to accede to the Auckland Butchers’ Union request for higher wages.
The ensuing strike would drag on through the month, with the slaughter men also joining the butchers in their pursuit of bettering the current wage, which ‘‘was not a living wage, just an existence’’.
The men had earlier pointed out that earnings of £3.10s and even £3.15s ‘‘were inadequate for a man with three to five children’’.
The executive’s turn-down had been ‘‘in view of the fact that notwithstanding the extremely high cost of stock and increased expenses, the Board of Trade had refused to sanction any advance in the retail cost of meat.The executive also failed to see how it could possibly disregard the decision of the Arbitration Court in regard to the dispute.’’
Time passed. The strike continued. Then, on Saturday, December 6, it was over.
The Dominion, via Press Association telegraph, broke the news that the butchers’ strike had been settled. ‘‘Some men returned to work this afternoon and the remainder will start on Monday.’’
The agreement had provided for wages as set out in the Wellington award.
Soon, the slaughter-yards would be filled with stock, with fresh meat available on Tuesday. Perhaps inspired by the approaching Christmas season, the announcement concluded: ‘‘The men have been assured by the employers that there will be no victimisation.’’