Rebel Voices

by Kornbluh, Joyce L. , Rosemont, Franklin, Thompson, Fred, Gross, Daniel

  The pageant failed financially. This was a crushing blow to the Paterson strikers, who anticipated huge profits based on the overflow audience in Madison Square Garden. The expenses of a one-night performance were too high, and the audience had been too poor to make the hoped-for contributions. The hostile press accused the pageant committee of raising a large sum and “lining their pockets.” Jealousies, dissensions, and suspicions marked the last days of a losing strike. Reed left for Venice with Mrs. Dodge and Bobby Jones. Bill Haywood, who had lost eighty pounds during the strike from an ulcerated stomach, was taken to Europe by a friend.

  As the strike dragged on into July, the amount of funds sent by sympathizers began to dwindle. The pressures of hunger and a stepped up campaign of arresting pickets were hard to overcome. Faced with the loss of millions of dollars of business, the companies offered to deal with the strikers by shops, and on July 18, the ribbon weavers withdrew from the strike committee, announcing that they would negotiate with employers on a shop basis. Their defection broke the I.W.W. hopes of an industry-wide settlement. Split up into 300 separate shop units, the strikers were unable to win their demands and were forced to return to work under very much the same conditions they had left five months before.

  Solidarity, June 7, 1913.

  Like so many other textile strikes, the 1913 Paterson strike failed. It was one more episode in the long history of textile workers’ struggles against low wages, long hours, speed-up, company-dominated mill towns, chronic unemployment, and instability. In the words of the concluding verse of a song written at the beginning of this century by South Carolina cotton mill workers:

  Ain’t it enough to break your heart?

  Hafta work all day and at night it’s dark.

  It’s hard times in the mill, my love,

  Hard times in the mill.

  1

  This anecdote about Big Bill and the rabbi which was first printed in Solidarity (April 19, 1913) was reprinted several times in the I.W.W. press. It is representative of similar anecdotes on the theme, “We’re all leaders.” On the fly leaf of his book, New Men of Power (New York, 1948), C. Wright Mills told the following story which he had heard from an unknown worker in Nevada in June, 1947:

  When the boatload of Wobblies came

  Up to Everett, the sheriff says

  Don’t you come no further

  Who the hell’s yer leader anyhow?

  Who’s yer leader?

  And them Wobblies yelled right back—

  We don’t got no leader

  We’re all leaders

  And they kept right on comin.

  WHO IS THE LEADER?

  “Oh, Mr. Haywood, I am so glad to meet you. I’ve been wanting to meet the leader of the strike for some time.”

  “You’ve made a mistake,” replied Bill, “I’m not the leader.”

  “What! You’re not? Well, who is he?”

  “There ain’t any He.”

  “Perhaps I should have said ‘they,’” persisted the prophet of the Chosen people, “Who are they?”

  “This strike has no leaders,” answered Bill.

  “It hasn’t! Well, who is in charge of it?”

  “The strikers.”

  “But can’t I meet some responsible parties elsewhere? You know I represent the other churches of the city, the Catholic Fathers and the Methodist ministers are awaiting my report. I would like to find out all I can and then maybe we could come to some agreement with the mill owners.”

  “The mill owners already know what the strikers want,” said Bill.

  “They do! Why some of the leading citizens don’t know yet!”

  “That’s funny,” smiled Bill, “I just got off a train from Akron a couple of hours ago and I know.”

  “Will you please tell me?”

  “It’s very simple,” answered Bill, “They want an eight hour day, abolition of the three and four loom system in broad silks, abolition of the two loom system in ribbons, and the dyers want a minimum wage of $12 a week.”

  ‘Well, well!” mused the other stroking his rabbinical beard, “I must say it’s strange we had not heard all this!”

  “There’s an awful lot of things you never heard of, parson,” said Bill.

  “Do they have a strike committee, and where do they meet?” continued the rabbi.

  “Right in this hall, every morning at 8 o’clock.”

  “Who are they?”

  “I don’t know; and if I did I wouldn’t tell,” laughed Bill.

  “How many are there?”

  “One hundred and twenty-seven.”

  “One hundred and twenty-seven! MY GOD! What can we do with a strike committee of one hundred and twenty-seven that meets in a public hall before all the rest of the strikers?”

  “I don’t reckon that you can do much except the heavy looking on, parson,” said Bill. “There ain’t much left in the world for fellows like you to do except that, and besides this is an I.W.W. strike. In an I.W.W. strike there isn’t room for anybody except the working class and the bosses; everybody else is excess baggage.”

  2

  This article by Bill Haywood appeared in the International Socialist Review (May 1913). In his autobiography Bill Haywood wrote: “While this strike was on, I learned something of the methods of producing silk. After the cocoons were unwound and the silk was whipped into skeins, it was dyed with the glorious colors seen in this costly fabric. All of it went through a process called ‘dynamiting where it was loaded with metals of different kinds—lead, tin, and zinc. From a fourth to a third of the weight of the silk was of these adulterants, which shortened the life and durability, though temporarily adding to the gloss and weight of the finished goods.” Haywood later used this information in testifying before the Industrial Relations Commission on employer use of “sabotage” in industry. The expose of this process caused embarrassment to the silk industry.

  THE RIP IN THE SILK INDUSTRY

  By WILLIAM D. HAYWOOD

  When the broad silk weavers in Henry Doherty’s mill in Paterson, N. J., left their machines last February they inaugurated what has proved to be the closest approach to a general strike that has yet taken place in an American industry.

  They revolted against the 3 and 4 loom system which until recently has been confined to the state of Pennsylvania. This system is restricted to the lower grades of silk, messaline and taffeta.

  There are almost 300 silk mills in Paterson. Doherty was the first manufacturer to introduce this system there and later it was carried into 26 other mills. The silk workers soon realized that unless this scheme for exploiting them still further was checked, it would in time pervade the entire industry in the Jersey city.

  The silk workers of Paterson are the most skilled in the United States and the employers thought that if there was anywhere in the country where this system could be successfully adopted it was in Paterson. They thought that their workers would stand for it. The workers themselves were not consulted, as the manufacturers afterward realized to their sorrow, when a general strike was called embracing the industry in all its branches and extending to all states where silk is manufactured.

  At present no less than 50,000 silk workers are on strike in New Jersey, Pennsylvania, New York and Connecticut, including those in the preparatory processes, the “throwster” mills, dye houses, broad silk making in all grades, as well as in nearly all the ribbon mills.

  In many respects this strike is hardly less significant than that at Lawrence. It involves nearly as many workers and the conditions are just as bad. But the Paterson revolt has attracted less public attention than did the woolen fight. This is due to several reasons.

  In the first place, the manufacturers, through their control of outside newspapers, were able to bring about a general conspiracy of silence. The New York papers, for example, after the first few days in which they gave prominence to the strike, were warned through subtle sources that unless there was less publicity they would be made t
o suffer through loss of support and advertising. Then the Paterson strikers were fortunate in having among them several trained veterans in the labor movement, such as Adolph Lessig, Ewald Koettgen, and Louis Magnet, who had been members of the I.W.W. since 1906, and knew what to do towards putting the strike on an organized basis. For a time they were able to take care of themselves without relying much on outside help. Besides, the authorities kept their hands off for a time, after their first fright in which they threw Elizabeth Gurley Flynn, Carlo Tresca and later Patrick Quinlan and Alex Scott, the Socialist editor, into jail. These organizers got on the job instantly and have done excellent work.

  The Lyons of America

  Paterson is the Lyons of America. It practically has a monopoly in the making of the finer grades of silk in this country. It has 25,400 people engaged in the silk industry and in the manufacture of silk machinery and supplies. Therefore, when practically all these workers came out, the industry was tied up tight.

  Fifty-six per cent of the Paterson silk workers are women and children and they have been among the most devoted and enthusiastic strikers.

  As this is written, the strike has entered upon its seventh week and the demands of the workers have crystallized around a determination to have the eight-hour day. This will apply to all the workers involved, except the broad silk weavers whose principal demand, as stated, is the abolition of the grinding 3 and 4 loom system.

  So greatly have wages been reduced in recent years that the weavers are now demanding the restoration of the 1894 price list which was imposed on them at the time. With the improvements in machinery that have been made, this would be a great advantage to the ribbon weavers. The dye house workers are holding out for a minimum wage of $12 a week. In other branches there is a general demand for a 25 per cent increase in wages.

  Present wages, according to the manufacturers’ figures, average $9.60 a week. A general call at one of the mass meetings for pay envelopes brought out hundreds which showed the average wage is much lower than this and as all wages are determined by working periods, the actual yearly wage would bring average “earnings” down to $6 or $7 a week.

  Paterson manufacturers have an absolute monopoly on the finer grades of silk, like brocades, that are made on the Jacquard loom, and it would be easy for them to raise prices to meet wage increases, but because of the cut-throat competition among them, silk is cheaper, on the whole, than it was 15 years ago. This reduction in price, needless to say, has been taken out of the flesh and blood of the workers.

  Untrustified Industry

  The big capitalists have never tried to enter the silk trade, because it deals with a luxury. They are too busy securing their grip on the necessities of life, like food, clothing, steel, transportation, etc.

  The Paterson workers, then, have not had to fight a concentrated trust, such as existed at Lawrence, but a gang of scattered employers, all jealous and fearful of each other. The strike undoubtedly would have ended much sooner had it not been for the desire of the richer manufacturers to see the smaller makers starved out and driven into bankruptcy, which already has occurred to a number of them.

  The manufacturers as a whole have used as an excuse for not raising wages the plea that they cannot afford it on account of Pennsylvania’s competition. But this is untrue, because the Pennsylvania mills are controlled largely by the same interests that center in Paterson.

  The Pennsylvania silk mills are situated generally in mining camps and industrial centers where the wages of the men have been so reduced that women and children have been compelled to seek employment in the mills. Ninety-one per cent of the workers in the Pennsylvania silk mills are women and children.

  Wages in the Pennsylvania silk mills average much less than in New Jersey and it is a peculiar fact that the men get less than the women. The men get $6.06 a week while the women are making $7.01.

  Left to right: I.W.W. strike leaders, Adolph Lessig, Bill Haywood, and Carlo Tresca.

  Brown Brothers photo.

  There are six prominent processes in the making of silk and they are usually done in different establishements. “Throwing” is largely done in Pennsylvania—reeling the raw silk as it comes from the cocoon, etc. The dyeing is done in separate factories.

  The “Dynamiting’ Process

  It is at this point that the silk is “dynamited”—that is, loaded with adulterants to be later foisted on the gullible purchaser as extra fine goods. In the dye houses one pound of silk is often treated so that its weight is increased to 56 ounces! This is done by dipping the skein into a solution of which sugar, tannic acid, tin, lead, and iron are often components.

  This adulteration, amounting to a direct steal, enhances the weight of the fabric but at the same time weakens the texture and destroys the life of the cloth. Silk so treated will crumble away while it stands in the wardrobe before it has been subjected to use.

  One of the most alarming features of the strike to the manufacturers, was the publicity given this system of “dynamiting” or loading silk. In consequence there is a growing demand for a government stamp which will denote pure fabric similar to that which is supposed to guarantee pure food.

  The work of the dyers is the most unhealthful and disagreeable in the industry and is almost the worst paid. The strike came as a welcome relief to them from day after day of filthy and monotonous toil. They work 13 hours on the night shift and 11 on the day side. They are compelled to stand in wet and soggy places, their hands are always submerged in chemicals which discolor and burn their flesh and sometimes eat off the nails of their fingers.

  The Red Badge of Toil

  In this connection it is worth while to relate an incident—one of the most dramatic of the strike. The Paterson bosses lost no time in injecting the “patriotic” issue, after the fashion of Lawrence, Little Falls and Akron. The red flag, they howled, stood for blood, murder and anarchy—the Star Spangled Banner must be upheld, etc., etc. Elizabeth Gurley Flynn was on the platform at a big strike meeting one day explaining the significance of the red flag when a striking dyer sprang up from the middle of the audience crying:

  “I know! Here is the red flag!”

  And aloft he held his right hand—stained a permanent bloody crimson, gnarled from years of toil, and corroded by the scarlet dye which it was his business to put into the fabrics worn by the dainty lady of the capitalist class as well as by the fawning prostitute.

  For an instant there was silence and then the hall was rent by cries from the husky throats as all realized this humble dyer indeed knew the meaning of the red badge of his class.

  Ribbon weaving is largely done by men and women. In this department the bosses have developed a speeding up system with reductions in pay, overlooking no opportunity to introduce improved machinery. Thus they increase production, at the same time they lowered the pay, until the workers are now demanding a scale which 19 years ago was imposed upon them! That is, the weavers now ask a wage that prevailed two decades ago.

  The significance of this demand makes it plain that in the evolution of industry and the introduction of new machinery the workers have obtained no benefit, while the bosses have reaped ever increasing profits.

  Many children are employes in the silk industry, most of them being between the ages of 14 and 16. However, there are few violations of the child labor law, not because the manufacturers care anything about either the law or the children, but because the making of high grade silk requires the careful and efficient work that only adults can give. However, the Paterson capitalists have begun to set up plants in the southern states as well as in the mining regions of Pennsylvania, installing there new style looms which can be operated by girls and children.

  Meeting for Children

  One of the best and most enthusiastic meetings held during the strike was that for the benefit of the children of the mills. They packed Turner Hall and listened eagerly and with appreciation as speakers outlined to them the development in the manufacture of sil
k from the cocoon to the completed fabric lying on the shelves of the rich department store.

  The strike has been viciously fought from the very beginning. The usual combination of press, pulpit and police has labored both openly and secretly to weaken it and break it, but without avail. For seven weeks the Paterson newspapers have delivered screams of rage and fury day after day. They have not hesitated to urge any measure that might break the strike, from tar-and-feathers to murder. Day after day in big, black headlines in their front pages they have demanded that the “I.W.W. blatherskites” be driven out of town. They have constantly incited the police to violence and urged the authorities to take “drastic measures.” All in vain. On the day this is written the leading organ of the manufacturers admits that the police, the administration and the courts have been helpless and it now begs the workers themselves to “drive the I.W.W. out of town,” promising that if they will organize into “a decent, dignified, American union,” the whole city will demand that the bosses give them the conditions for which they ask.

  Little Violence

  Despite this, another paper admits in its editorial columns that Paterson after all ought to be thankful. “Though 25,000 people have been on strike here for seven weeks,” it says, “there has been remarkably little violence.”