CHAPTER X

PIONEER LABOR LEGISLATION IN ILLINOIS

Our very first Christmas at Hull-House, when we as yet knew

nothing of child labor, a number of little girls refused the

candy which was offered them as part of the Christmas good cheer,

saying simply that they "worked in a candy factory and could not

bear the sight of it." We discovered that for six weeks they had

worked from seven in the morning until nine at night, and they

were exhausted as well as satiated. The sharp consciousness of

stern economic conditions was thus thrust upon us in the midst of

the season of good will.

During the same winter three boys from a Hull-House club were

injured at one machine in a neighboring factory for lack of a

guard which would have cost but a few dollars. When the injury of

one of these boys resulted in his death, we felt quite sure that

the owners of the factory would share our horror and remorse, and

that they would do everything possible to prevent the recurrence

of such a tragedy. To our surprise they did nothing whatever, and

I made my first acquaintance then with those pathetic documents

signed by the parents of working children, that they will make no

claim for damages resulting from "carelessness."

The visits we made in the neighborhood constantly discovered

women sewing upon sweatshop work, and often they were assisted by

incredibly small children. I remember a little girl of four who

pulled out basting threads hour after hour, sitting on a stool at

the feet of her Bohemian mother, a little bunch of human misery.

But even for that there was no legal redress, for the only

child-labor law in Illinois, with any provision for enforcement,

had been secured by the coal miners' unions, and was confined to

children employed in mines.

We learned to know many families in which the working children

contributed to the support of their parents, not only because

they spoke English better than the older immigrants and were

willing to take lower wages, but because their parents gradually

found it easy to live upon their earnings. A South Italian

peasant who has picked olives and packed oranges from his

toddling babyhood cannot see at once the difference between the

outdoor healthy work which he had performed in the varying

seasons, and the long hours of monotonous factory life which his

child encounters when he goes to work in Chicago. An Italian

father came to us in great grief over the death of his eldest

child, a little girl of twelve, who had brought the largest wages

into the family fund. In the midst of his genuine sorrow he

said: "She was the oldest kid I had. Now I shall have to go back

to work again until the next one is able to take care of me." The

man was only thirty-three and had hoped to retire from work at

least during the winters. No foreman cared to have him in a

factory, untrained and unintelligent as he was. It was much

easier for his bright, English-speaking little girl to get a

chance to paste labels on a box than for him to secure an

opportunity to carry pig iron. The effect on the child was what

no one concerned thought about, in the abnormal effort she made

thus prematurely to bear the weight of life. Another little girl

of thirteen, a Russian-Jewish child employed in a laundry at a

heavy task beyond her strength, committed suicide, because she

had borrowed three dollars from a companion which she could not

repay unless she confided the story to her parents and gave up an

entire week's wages--but what could the family live upon that

week in case she did! Her child mind, of course, had no sense of

proportion, and carbolic acid appeared inevitable.

While we found many pathetic cases of child labor and hard-driven

victims of the sweating system who could not possibly earn enough

in the short busy season to support themselves during the rest of

the year, it became evident that we must add carefully collected

information to our general impression of neighborhood conditions

if we would make it of any genuine value.

There was at that time no statistical information on Chicago

industrial conditions, and Mrs. Florence Kelley, an early

resident of Hull-House, suggested to the Illinois State Bureau of

Labor that they investigate the sweating system in Chicago with

its attendant child labor. The head of the Bureau adopted this

suggestion and engaged Mrs. Kelley to make the investigation.

When the report was presented to the Illinois Legislature, a

special committee was appointed to look into the Chicago

conditions. I well recall that on the Sunday the members of this

commission came to dine at Hull-House, our hopes ran high, and we

believed that at last some of the worst ills under which our

neighbors were suffering would be brought to an end.

As a result of its investigations, this committee recommended to

the Legislature the provisions which afterward became those of the

first factory law of Illinois, regulating the sanitary conditions

of the sweatshop and fixing fourteen as the age at which a child

might be employed. Before the passage of the law could be

secured, it was necessary to appeal to all elements of the

community, and a little group of us addressed the open meetings of

trades-unions and of benefit societies, church organizations, and

social clubs literally every evening for three months. Of course

the most energetic help as well as intelligent understanding came

from the trades-unions. The central labor body of Chicago, then

called the Trades and Labor Assembly, had previously appointed a

committee of investigation to inquire into the sweating system.

This committee consisted of five delegates from the unions and

five outside their membership. Two of the latter were residents of

Hull-House, and continued with the unions in their well-conducted

campaign until the passage of Illinois's first Factory Legislation

was secured, a statute which has gradually been built upon by many

public-spirited citizens until Illinois stands well among the

States, at least in the matter of protecting her children. The

Hull-House residents that winter had their first experience in

lobbying. I remember that I very much disliked the word and still

more the prospect of the lobbying itself, and we insisted that

well-known Chicago women should accompany this first little group

of Settlement folk who with trades-unionists moved upon the state

capitol in behalf of factory legislation. The national or, to use

its formal name, The General Federation of Woman's Clubs had been

organized in Chicago only the year before this legislation was

secured. The Federation was then timid in regard to all

legislation because it was anxious not to frighten its new

membership, although its second president, Mrs. Henrotin, was most

untiring in her efforts to secure this law.

It was, perhaps, a premature effort, though certainly founded

upon a genuine need, to urge that a clause limiting the hours of

all women working in factories or workshops to eight a day, or

forty-eight a week, should be inserted in the first factory

legislation of the State. Although we had lived at Hull-House

but three years when we urged this legislation, we had known a

large number of young girls who were constantly exhausted by

night work; for whatever may be said in defense of night work for

men, few women are able to endure it. A man who works by night

sleeps regularly by day, but a woman finds it impossible to put

aside the household duties which crowd upon her, and a

conscientious girl finds it hard to sleep with her mother washing

and scrubbing within a few feet of her bed. One of the most

painful impressions of those first years is that of pale,

listless girls, who worked regularly in a factory of the vicinity

which was then running full night time. These girls also

encountered a special danger in the early morning hours as they

returned from work, debilitated and exhausted, and only too

easily convinced that a drink and a little dancing at the end of

the balls in the saloon dance halls, was what they needed to

brace them. One of the girls whom we then knew, whose name,

Chloe, seemed to fit her delicate charm, craving a drink to

dispel her lassitude before her tired feet should take the long

walk home, had thus been decoyed into a saloon, where the soft

drink was followed by an alcoholic one containing "knockout

drops," and she awoke in a disreputable rooming house--too

frightened and disgraced to return to her mother.

Thus confronted by that old conundrum of the interdependence of

matter and spirit, the conviction was forced upon us that long and

exhausting hours of work are almost sure to be followed by lurid

and exciting pleasures; that the power to overcome temptation

reaches its limit almost automatically with that of physical

resistance. The eight-hour clause in this first factory law met

with much less opposition in the Legislature than was anticipated,

and was enforced for a year before it was pronounced

unconstitutional by the Supreme Court of Illinois. During the

halcyon months when it was a law, a large and enthusiastic

Eight-Hour Club of working women met at Hull-House, to read the

literature on the subject and in every way to prepare themselves

to make public sentiment in favor of the measure which meant so

much to them. The adverse decision in the test case, the progress

of which they had most intelligently followed, was a matter of

great disappointment. The entire experience left on my mind a

mistrust of all legislation which was not preceded by full

discussion and understanding. A premature measure may be carried

through a legislature by perfectly legitimate means and still fail

to possess vitality and a sense of maturity. On the other hand,

the administration of an advanced law acts somewhat as a

referendum. The people have an opportunity for two years to see

the effects of its operation. If they choose to reopen the matter

at the next General Assembly, it can be discussed with experience

and conviction; the very operation of the law has performed the

function of the "referendum" in a limited use of the term.

Founded upon some such compunction, the sense that the passage of

the child labor law would in many cases work hardship, was never

absent from my mind during the earliest years of its operation. I

addressed as many mothers' meetings and clubs among working women

as I could, in order to make clear the object of the law and the

ultimate benefit to themselves as well as to their children. I

am happy to remember that I never met with lack of understanding

among the hard-working widows, in whose behalf many prosperous

people were so eloquent. These widowed mothers would say, "Why,

of course, that is what I am working for--to give the children a

chance. I want them to have more education than I had"; or

another, "That is why we came to America, and I don't want to

spoil his start, even although his father is dead"; or "It's

different in America. A boy gets left if he isn't educated."

There was always a willingness, even among the poorest women, to

keep on with the hard night scrubbing or the long days of washing

for the children's sake.

The bitterest opposition to the law came from the large glass

companies, who were so accustomed to use the labor of children

that they were convinced the manufacturing of glass could not be

carried on without it.

Fifteen years ago the State of Illinois, as well as Chicago,

exhibited many characteristics of the pioneer country in which

untrammeled energy and an "early start" were still the most

highly prized generators of success. Although this first labor

legislation was but bringing Illinois into line with the nations

in the modern industrial world, which "have long been obliged for

their own sakes to come to the aid of the workers by which they

live--that the child, the young person and the woman may be

protected from their own weakness and necessity?" nevertheless

from the first it ran counter to the instinct and tradition,

almost to the very religion of the manufacturers of the state,

who were for the most part self-made men.

This first attempt in Illinois for adequate factory legislation

also was associated in the minds of businessmen with radicalism,

because the law was secured during the term of Governor Altgeld

and was first enforced during his administration. While nothing

in its genesis or spirit could be further from "anarchy" than

factory legislation, and while the first law in Illinois was still

far behind Massachusetts and New York, the fact that Governor

Altgeld pardoned from the state's prison the anarchists who had

been sentenced there after the Haymarket riot, gave the opponents

of this most reasonable legislation a quickly utilized opportunity

to couple it with that detested word; the State document which

accompanied Governor Altgeld's pardon gave these ungenerous

critics a further opportunity, because a magnanimous action was

marred by personal rancor, betraying for the moment the infirmity

of a noble mind. For all of these reasons this first modification

of the undisturbed control of the aggressive captains of industry

could not be enforced without resistance marked by dramatic

episodes and revolts. The inception of the law had already become

associated with Hull-House, and when its ministration was also

centered there, we inevitably received all the odium which these

first efforts entailed. Mrs. Kelley was appointed the first

factory inspector with a deputy and a force of twelve inspectors

to enforce the law. Both Mrs. Kelley and her assistant, Mrs.

Stevens, lived at Hull-House; the office was on Polk Street

directly opposite, and one of the most vigorous deputies was the

president of the Jane Club. In addition, one of the early men

residents, since dean of a state law school, acted as prosecutor

in the cases brought against the violators of the law.

Chicago had for years been notoriously lax in the administration

of law, and the enforcement of an unpopular measure was resented

equally by the president of a large manufacturing concern and by

the former victim of a sweatshop who had started a place of his

own. Whatever the sentiments toward the new law on the part of

the employers, there was no doubt of its enthusiastic reception

by the trades-unions, as the securing of the law had already come

from them, and through the years which have elapsed since, the

experience of the Hull-House residents would coincide with that

of an English statesman who said that "a common rule for the

standard of life and the condition of labor may be secured by

legislation, but it must be maintained by trades unionism."

This special value of the trades-unions first became clear to the

residents of Hull-House in connection with the sweating system.

We early found that the women in the sewing trades were sorely in

need of help. The trade was thoroughly disorganized, Russian and

Polish tailors competing against English-speaking tailors,

unskilled Bohemian and Italian women competing against both.

These women seem to have been best helped through the use of the

label when unions of specialized workers in the trade are strong

enough to insist that the manufacturers shall "give out work"

only to those holding union cards. It was certainly impressive

when the garment makers themselves in this way finally succeeded

in organizing six hundred of the Italian women in our immediate

vicinity, who had finished garments at home for the most wretched

and precarious wages. To be sure, the most ignorant women only

knew that "you couldn't get clothes to sew" from the places where

they paid the best, unless "you had a card," but through the

veins of most of them there pulsed the quickened blood of a new

fellowship, a sense of comfort and aid which had been laid out to

them by their fellow-workers.

During the fourth year of our residence at Hull-House we found

ourselves in a large mass meeting ardently advocating the passage

of a Federal measure called the Sulzer Bill. Even in our short

struggle with the evils of the sweating system it did not seem

strange that the center of the effort had shifted to Washington,

for by that time we had realized that the sanitary regulation of

sweatshops by city officials, and a careful enforcement of factory

legislation by state factory inspectors will not avail, unless

each city and State shall be able to pass and enforce a code of

comparatively uniform legislation. Although the Sulzer Act failed

to utilize the Interstate Commerce legislation for its purpose,

many of the national representatives realized for the first time

that only by federal legislation could their constituents in

remote country places be protected from contagious diseases raging

in New York or Chicago, for many country doctors testify as to the

outbreak of scarlet fever in rural neighborhoods after the

children have begun to wear the winter overcoats and cloaks which

have been sent from infected city sweatshops.

Through our efforts to modify the sweating system, the Hull-House

residents gradually became committed to the fortunes of the

Consumers' League, an organization which for years has been

approaching the question of the underpaid sewing woman from the

point of view of the ultimate responsibility lodged in the

consumer. It becomes more reasonable to make the presentation of

the sweatshop situation through this League, as it is more

effectual to work with them for the extension of legal provisions

in the slow upbuilding of that code of legislation which is alone

sufficient to protect the home from the dangers incident to the

sweating system.

The Consumers' League seems to afford the best method of approach

for the protection of girls in department stores; I recall a

group of girls from a neighboring "emporium" who applied to

Hull-House for dancing parties on alternate Sunday afternoons.

In reply to our protest they told us they not only worked late

every evening, in spite of the fact that each was supposed to

have "two nights a week off," and every Sunday morning, but that

on alternate Sunday afternoons they were required "to sort the

stock." Over and over again, meetings called by the Clerks Union

and others have been held at Hull-House protesting against these

incredibly long hours. Little modification has come about,

however, during our twenty years of residence, although one large

store in the Bohemian quarter closes all day on Sunday and many

of the others for three nights a week. In spite of the Sunday

work, these girls prefer the outlying department stores to those

downtown; there is more social intercourse with the customers,

more kindliness and social equality between the saleswomen and

the managers, and above all the girls have the protection

naturally afforded by friends and neighbors and they are free

from that suspicion which so often haunts the girls downtown,

that their fellow workers may not be "nice girls."

In the first years of Hull-House we came across no trades-unions

among the women workers, and I think, perhaps, that only one

union, composed solely of women, was to be found in Chicago

then--that of the bookbinders. I easily recall the evening when

the president of this pioneer organization accepted an invitation

to take dinner at Hull-House. She came in rather a recalcitrant

mood, expecting to be patronized, and so suspicious of our

motives that it was only after she had been persuaded to become a

guest of the house for several weeks in order to find out about

us for herself, that she was convinced of our sincerity and of

the ability of "outsiders" to be of any service to working women.

She afterward became closely identified with Hull-House, and her

hearty cooperation was assured until she moved to Boston and

became a general organizer for the American Federation of Labor.

The women shirt makers and the women cloak makers were both

organized at Hull-House as was also the Dorcas Federal Labor

Union, which had been founded through the efforts of a working

woman, then one of the residents. The latter union met once a

month in our drawing room. It was composed of representatives

from all the unions in the city which included women in their

membership and also received other women in sympathy with

unionism. It was accorded representation in the central labor

body of the city, and later it joined its efforts with those of

others to found the Woman's Union Label League. In what we

considered a praiseworthy effort to unite it with other

organizations, the president of a leading Woman's Club applied

for membership. We were so sure of her election that she stood

just outside of the drawing-room door, or, in trades-union

language, "the wicket gate," while her name was voted upon. To

our chagrin, she did not receive enough votes to secure her

admission, not because the working girls, as they were careful to

state, did not admire her, but because she "seemed to belong to

the other side." Fortunately, the big-minded woman so thoroughly

understood the vote and her interest in working women was so

genuine that it was less than a decade afterward when she was

elected to the presidency of the National Woman's Trades Union

League. The incident and the sequel registers, perhaps, the

change in Chicago toward the labor movement, the recognition of

the fact that it is a general social movement concerning all

members of society and not merely a class struggle.

Some such public estimate of the labor movement was brought home

to Chicago during several conspicuous strikes; at least labor

legislation has twice been inaugurated because its need was thus

made clear. After the Pullman strike various elements in the

community were unexpectedly brought together that they might

soberly consider and rectify the weakness in the legal structure

which the strike had revealed. These citizens arranged for a

large and representative convention to be held in Chicago on

Industrial Conciliation and Arbitration. I served as secretary

of the committee from the new Civic Federation having the matter

in charge, and our hopes ran high when, as a result of the

agitation, the Illinois legislature passed a law creating a State

Board of Conciliation and Arbitration. But even a state board

cannot accomplish more than public sentiment authorizes and

sustains, and we might easily have been discouraged in those

early days could we have foreseen some of the industrial

disturbances which have since disgraced Chicago. This law

embodied the best provisions of the then existing laws for the

arbitration of industrial disputes. At the time the word

arbitration was still a word to conjure with, and many Chicago

citizens were convinced, not only of the danger and futility

involved in the open warfare of opposing social forces, but

further believed that the search for justice and righteousness in

industrial relations was made infinitely more difficult thereby.

The Pullman strike afforded much illumination to many Chicago

people. Before it, there had been nothing in my experience to

reveal that distinct cleavage of society, which a general strike

at least momentarily affords. Certainly, during all those dark

days of the Pullman strike, the growth of class bitterness was

most obvious. The fact that the Settlement maintained avenues of

intercourse with both sides seemed to give it opportunity for

nothing but a realization of the bitterness and division along

class lines. I had known Mr. Pullman and had seen his genuine

pride and pleasure in the model town he had built with so much

care; and I had an opportunity to talk to many of the Pullman

employees during the strike when I was sent from a so-called

"Citizens' Arbitration Committee" to their first meetings held in

a hall in the neighboring village of Kensington, and when I was

invited to the modest supper tables laid in the model houses.

The employees then expected a speedy settlement and no one

doubted but that all the grievances connected with the "straw

bosses" would be quickly remedied and that the benevolence which

had built the model town would not fail them. They were sure

that the "straw bosses" had misrepresented the state of affairs,

for this very first awakening to class consciousness bore many

traces of the servility on one side and the arrogance on the

other which had so long prevailed in the model town. The entire

strike demonstrated how often the outcome of far-reaching

industrial disturbances is dependent upon the personal will of

the employer or the temperament of a strike leader. Those

familiar with strikes know only too well how much they are

influenced by poignant domestic situations, by the troubled

consciences of the minority directors, by the suffering women and

children, by the keen excitement of the struggle, by the

religious scruples sternly suppressed but occasionally asserting

themselves, now on one side and now on the other, and by that

undefined psychology of the crowd which we understand so little.

All of these factors also influence the public and do much to

determine popular sympathy and judgment. In the early days of

the Pullman strike, as I was coming down in the elevator of the

Auditorium hotel from one of the futile meetings of the

Arbitration Committee, I met an acquaintance, who angrily said

"that the strikers ought all to be shot." As I had heard nothing

so bloodthirsty as this either from the most enraged capitalist

or from the most desperate of the men, and was interested to find

the cause of such a senseless outbreak, I finally discovered that

the first ten thousand dollars which my acquaintance had ever

saved, requiring, he said, years of effort from the time he was

twelve years old until he was thirty, had been lost as the result

of a strike; he clinched his argument that he knew what he was

talking about, with the statement that "no one need expect him to

have any sympathy with strikers or with their affairs."

A very intimate and personal experience revealed, at least to

myself, my constant dread of the spreading ill will. At the

height of the sympathetic strike my oldest sister, who was

convalescing from a long illness in a hospital near Chicago,

became suddenly very much worse. While I was able to reach her

at once, every possible obstacle of a delayed and blocked

transportation system interrupted the journey of her husband and

children who were hurrying to her bedside from a distant state.

As the end drew nearer and I was obliged to reply to my sister's

constant inquiries that her family had not yet come, I was filled

with a profound apprehension lest her last hours should be

touched with resentment toward those responsible for the delay;

lest her unutterable longing should at the very end be tinged

with bitterness. She must have divined what was in my mind, for

at last she said each time after the repetition of my sad news:

"I don't blame any one, I am not judging them." My heart was

comforted and heavy at the same time; but how many more such

moments of sorrow and death were being made difficult and lonely

throughout the land, and how much would these experiences add to

the lasting bitterness, that touch of self-righteousness which

makes the spirit of forgiveness well-nigh impossible.

When I returned to Chicago from the quiet country I saw the

Federal troops encamped about the post office; almost everyone on

Halsted Street wearing a white ribbon, the emblem of the

strikers' side; the residents at Hull-House divided in opinion as

to the righteousness of this or that measure; and no one able to

secure any real information as to which side was burning the

cars. After the Pullman strike I made an attempt to analyze in a

paper which I called The Modern King Lear the inevitable revolt

of human nature against the plans Mr. Pullman had made for his

employees, the miscarriage of which appeared to him such black

ingratitude. It seemed to me unendurable not to make some effort

to gather together the social implications of the failure of this

benevolent employer and its relation to the demand for a more

democratic administration of industry. Doubtless the paper

represented a certain "excess of participation," to use a gentle

phrase of Charles Lamb's in preference to a more emphatic one

used by Mr. Pullman himself. The last picture of the Pullman

strike which I distinctly recall was three years later when one

of the strike leaders came to see me. Although out of work for

most of the time since the strike, he had been undisturbed for

six months in the repair shops of a street-car company, under an

assumed name, but he had at that moment been discovered and

dismissed. He was a superior type of English workingman, but as

he stood there, broken and discouraged, believing himself so

black-listed that his skill could never be used again, filled

with sorrow over the loss of his wife who had recently died after

an illness with distressing mental symptoms, realizing keenly the

lack of the respectable way of living he had always until now

been able to maintain, he seemed to me an epitome of the wretched

human waste such a strike implies. I fervently hoped that the

new arbitration law would prohibit in Chicago forever more such

brutal and ineffective methods of settling industrial disputes.

And yet even as early as 1896, we found the greatest difficulty

in applying the arbitration law to the garment workers' strike,

although it was finally accomplished after various mass meetings

had urged it. The cruelty and waste of the strike as an

implement for securing the most reasonable demands came to me at

another time, during the long strike of the clothing cutters.

They had protested, not only against various wrongs of their own,

but against the fact that the tailors employed by the custom

merchants were obliged to furnish their own workshops and thus

bore a burden of rent which belonged to the employer. One of the

leaders in this strike, whom I had known for several years as a

sober, industrious, and unusually intelligent man, I saw

gradually break down during the many trying weeks and at last

suffer a complete moral collapse.

He was a man of sensitive organization under the necessity, as is

every leader during a strike, to address the same body of men day

after day with an appeal sufficiently emotional to respond to

their sense of injury; to receive callers at any hour of the day

or night; to sympathize with all the distress of the strikers who

see their families daily suffering; he must do it all with the

sickening sense of the increasing privation in his own home, and

in this case with the consciousness that failure was approaching

nearer each day. This man, accustomed to the monotony of his

workbench and suddenly thrown into a new situation, showed every

sign of nervous fatigue before the final collapse came. He

disappeared after the strike and I did not see him for ten years,

but when he returned he immediately began talking about the old

grievances which he had repeated so often that he could talk of

nothing else. It was easy to recognize the same nervous symptoms

which the broken-down lecturer exhibits who has depended upon the

exploitation of his own experiences to keep himself going. One

of his stories was indeed pathetic. His employer, during the

busy season, had met him one Sunday afternoon in Lincoln Park

whither he had taken his three youngest children, one of whom had

been ill. The employer scolded him for thus wasting his time and

roughly asked why he had not taken home enough work to keep

himself busy through the day. The story was quite credible

because the residents of Hull-House have had many opportunities

to see the worker driven ruthlessly during the season and left in

idleness for long weeks afterward. We have slowly come to

realize that periodical idleness as well as the payment of wages

insufficient for maintenance of the manual worker in full

industrial and domestic efficiency, stand economically on the

same footing with the "sweated" industries, the overwork of

women, and employment of children.

But of all the aspects of social misery nothing is so

heartbreaking as unemployment, and it was inevitable that we

should see much of it in a neighborhood where low rents attracted

the poorly paid worker and many newly arrived immigrants who were

first employed in gangs upon railroad extensions and similar

undertakings. The sturdy peasants eager for work were either the

victims of the padrone who fleeced them unmercifully, both in

securing a place to work and then in supplying them with food, or

they became the mere sport of unscrupulous employment agencies.

Hull-House made an investigation both of the padrone and of the

agencies in our immediate vicinity, and the outcome confirming

what we already suspected, we eagerly threw ourselves into a

movement to procure free employment bureaus under State control

until a law authorizing such bureaus and giving the officials

intrusted with their management power to regulate private

employment agencies, passed the Illinois Legislature in 1899. The

history of these bureaus demonstrates the tendency we all have to

consider a legal enactment in itself an achievement and to grow

careless in regard to its administration and actual results; for

an investigation into the situation ten years later discovered

that immigrants were still shamefully imposed upon. A group of

Bulgarians were found who had been sent to work in Arkansas where

their services were not needed; they walked back to Chicago only

to secure their next job in Oklahoma and to pay another railroad

fare as well as another commission to the agency. Not only was

there no method by which the men not needed in Arkansas could

know that there was work in Oklahoma unless they came back to

Chicago to find it out, but there was no certainty that they

might not be obliged to walk back from Oklahoma because the

Chicago agency had already sent out too many men.

This investigation of the employment bureau resources of Chicago

was undertaken by the League for the Protection of Immigrants,

with whom it is possible for Hull-House to cooperate whenever an

investigation of the immigrant colonies in our immediate

neighborhood seems necessary, as was recently done in regard to

the Greek colonies of Chicago. The superintendent of this

League, Miss Grace Abbott, is a resident of Hull-House and all of

our later attempts to secure justice and opportunity for

immigrants are much more effective through the League, and when

we speak before a congressional committee in Washington

concerning the needs of Chicago immigrants, we represent the

League as well as our own neighbors.

It is in connection with the first factory employment of newly

arrived immigrants and the innumerable difficulties attached to

their first adjustment that some of the most profound industrial

disturbances in Chicago have come about. Under any attempt at

classification these strikes belong more to the general social

movement than to the industrial conflict, for the strike is an

implement used most rashly by unorganized labor who, after they

are in difficulties, call upon the trades-unions for organization

and direction. They are similar to those strikes which are

inaugurated by the unions on behalf of unskilled labor. In

neither case do the hastily organized unions usually hold after

the excitement of the moment has subsided, and the most valuable

result of such strikes is the expanding consciousness of the

solidarity of the workers. This was certainly the result of the

Chicago stockyard strike in 1905, inaugurated on behalf of the

immigrant laborers and so conspicuously carried on without

violence that, although twenty-two thousand workers were idle

during the entire summer, there were fewer arrests in the

stockyards district than the average summer months afford.

However, the story of this strike should not be told from

Hull-House, but from the University of Chicago Settlement, where

Miss Mary McDowell performed such signal public service during

that trying summer. It would be interesting to trace how much of

the subsequent exposure of conditions and attempts at

governmental control of this huge industry had their genesis in

this first attempt of the unskilled workers to secure a higher

standard of living. Certainly the industrial conflict when

epitomized in a strike, centers public attention on conditions as

nothing else can do. A strike is one of the most exciting

episodes in modern life, and as it assumes the characteristics of

a game, the entire population of a city becomes divided into two

cheering sides. In such moments the fair-minded public, who

ought to be depended upon as a referee, practically disappears.

Anyone who tries to keep the attitude of nonpartisanship, which

is perhaps an impossible one, is quickly under suspicion by both

sides. At least that was the fate of a group of citizens

appointed by the mayor of Chicago to arbitrate during the stormy

teamsters' strike which occurred in 1905. We sat through a long

Sunday afternoon in the mayor's office in the City Hall, talking

first with the labor men and then with the group of capitalists.

The undertaking was the more futile in that we were all

practically the dupes of a new type of "industrial conspiracy"

successfully inaugurated in Chicago by a close compact between

the coal teamsters' union and the coal team owners' association,

who had formed a kind of monopoly hitherto new to a

monopoly-ridden public.

The stormy teamsters' strike, ostensibly undertaken in defense of

the garment workers, but really arising from causes so obscure

and dishonorable that they have never yet been made public, was

the culmination of a type of trades-unions which had developed in

Chicago during the preceding decade in which corruption had

flourished almost as openly as it had previously done in the City

Hall. This corruption sometimes took the form of grafting after

the manner of Samuel Parks in New York; sometimes that of

political deals in the "delivery of the labor vote"; and

sometimes that of a combination between capital and labor hunting

together. At various times during these years the better type of

trades-unionists had made a firm stand against this corruption

and a determined effort to eradicate it from the labor movement,

not unlike the general reform effort of many American cities

against political corruption. This reform movement in the

Chicago Federation of Labor had its martyrs, and more than one

man nearly lost his life through the "slugging" methods employed

by the powerful corruptionists. And yet even in the midst of

these things were found touching examples of fidelity to the

earlier principles of brotherhood totally untouched by the

corruption. At one time the scrubwomen in the downtown office

buildings had a union of their own affiliated with the elevator

men and the janitors. Although the union was used merely as a

weapon in the fight of the coal teamsters against the use of

natural gas in downtown buildings, it did not prevent the women

from getting their first glimpse into the fellowship and the

sense of protection which is the great gift of trades-unionism to

the unskilled, unbefriended worker. I remember in a meeting held

at Hull-House one Sunday afternoon, that the president of a

"local" of scrubwomen stood up to relate her experience. She

told first of the long years in which the fear of losing her job

and the fluctuating pay were harder to bear than the hard work

itself, when she had regarded all the other women who scrubbed in

the same building merely as rivals and was most afraid of the

most miserable, because they offered to work for less and less as

they were pressed harder and harder by debt. Then she told of

the change that had come when the elevator men and even the

lordly janitors had talked to her about an organization and had

said that they must all stand together. She told how gradually

she came to feel sure of her job and of her regular pay, and she

was even starting to buy a house now that she could "calculate"

how much she "could have for sure." Neither she nor any of the

other members knew that the same combination which had organized

the scrubwomen into a union later destroyed it during a strike

inaugurated for their own purposes.

That a Settlement is drawn into the labor issues of its city can

seem remote to its purpose only to those who fail to realize that

so far as the present industrial system thwarts our ethical

demands, not only for social righteousness but for social order,

a Settlement is committed to an effort to understand and, as far

as possible, to alleviate it. That in this effort it should be

drawn into fellowship with the local efforts of trades-unions is

most obvious. This identity of aim apparently commits the

Settlement in the public mind to all the faiths and works of

actual trades-unions. Fellowship has so long implied similarity

of creed that the fact that the Settlement often differs widely

from the policy pursued by trades-unionists and clearly expresses

that difference does not in the least change public opinion in

regard to its identification. This is especially true in periods

of industrial disturbance, although it is exactly at such moments

that the trades-unionists themselves are suspicious of all but

their "own kind." It is during the much longer periods between

strikes that the Settlement's fellowship with trades-unions is

most satisfactory in the agitation for labor legislation and

similar undertakings. The first officers of the Chicago Woman's

Trades Union League were residents of Settlements, although they

can claim little share in the later record the League made in

securing the passage of the Illinois Ten-Hour Law for Women and

in its many other fine undertakings.

Nevertheless the reaction of strikes upon Chicago Settlements

affords an interesting study in social psychology. For whether

Hull-House is in any wise identified with the strike or not,

makes no difference. When "Labor" is in disgrace we are always

regarded as belonging to it and share the opprobrium. In the

public excitement following the Pullman strike Hull-House lost

many friends; later the teamsters' strike caused another such

defection, although my office in both cases had been solely that

of a duly appointed arbitrator.

There is, however, a certain comfort in the assumption I have

often encountered that wherever one's judgment might place the

justice of a given situation, it is understood that one's

sympathy is not alienated by wrongdoing, and that through this

sympathy one is still subject to vicarious suffering. I recall

an incident during a turbulent Chicago strike which brought me

much comfort. On the morning of the day of a luncheon to which I

had accepted an invitation, the waitress, whom I did not know,

said to my prospective hostess that she was sure I could not

come. Upon being asked for her reason she replied that she had

seen in the morning paper that the strikers had killed a "scab"

and she was sure that I would feel quite too badly about such a

thing to be able to keep a social engagement. In spite of the

confused issues, she evidently realized my despair over the

violence in a strike quite as definitely as if she had been told

about it. Perhaps that sort of suffering and the attempt to

interpret opposing forces to each other will long remain a

function of the Settlement, unsatisfactory and difficult as the

role often becomes.

There has gradually developed between the various Settlements of

Chicago a warm fellowship founded upon a like-mindedness

resulting from similar experiences, quite as identity of interest

and endeavor develop an enduring relation between the residents

of the same Settlement. This sense of comradeship is never

stronger than during the hardships and perplexities of a strike

of unskilled workers revolting against the conditions which drag

them even below the level of their European life. At such time

the residents in various Settlements are driven to a standard of

life argument running somewhat in this wise--that as the very

existence of the State depends upon the character of its

citizens, therefore if certain industrial conditions are forcing

the workers below the standard of decency, it becomes possible to

deduce the right of State regulation. Even as late as the

stockyard strike this line of argument was denounced as

"socialism" although it has since been confirmed as wise

statesmanship by a decision of the Supreme Court of the United

States which was apparently secured through the masterly argument

of the Brandeis brief in the Oregon ten-hour case.

In such wise the residents of an industrial neighborhood

gradually comprehend the close connection of their own

difficulties with national and even international movements. The

residents in the Chicago Settlements became pioneer members in

the American branch of the International League for Labor

Legislation, because their neighborhood experiences had made them

only too conscious of the dire need for protective legislation.

In such a league, with its ardent members in every industrial

nation of Europe, with its encouraging reports of the abolition

of all night work for women in six European nations, with its

careful observations on the results of employer's liability

legislation and protection of machinery, one becomes identified

with a movement of world-wide significance and manifold

manifestation.

[Editor: Mary Mark Ockerbloom]

This chapter has been put on-line as part of the BUILD-A-BOOK

Initiative at the Celebration of Women Writers. Initial text

entry and proof-reading of this chapter were the work of

volunteer Terri Perkins.

[Editor: Mary Mark Ockerbloom]

[A Celebration ofWomen Writers]

"Chapter XI: Immigrants and Their Children. by Jane Addams

(1860-1935) From: Twenty Years at Hull-House with

Autobiographical Notes. by Jane Addams. New York: The MacMillan

Company, 1912 (c.1910) pp. 230-258.

[Editor: Mary MarkOckerbloom]

Twenty Years at Hull House; with Autobiographical Notes · 第 3 / 11 章