by Victor Hicken - ©1997 Victor Hicken
transcribed by Judy York
Even in the old implications of the word, the 1890's were not "gay." But it
was true, specially in the cities, that the middle class enjoyed the almost
yearly technological advances which America's prolific inventors were adding
to the country's growing advantages. And, if one were willing and able, as well
as necessarily brilliant, he or she could fulfill the dream of the standard
Horatio Alger plot. It was proven time and time again that children of a middle-
or even lower-class family could rise and become rich and successful. With those
achievements, of course, came also the admiration and respect of society.
Like a great many aspects of life, the opportunities which America offered were like the proverbial coin of the realm; they had two sides. In the twenty-five years since the end of the Civil War, a laissez-faire society, untrammeled by government regulation, had allowed the rich to become exceedingly rich and the poor to become poorer. Hamlin Garland, a midwestern writer of the period, noted the growing disparity between life on the farm and life in the middle-class towns of the Great Plains. On the other hand, Jacob Riis, the Danish- American reformer, pointed his finger at the cities and graphically illustrated the terrible discrepancies between life in the ghettos and life among the more privileged.(1)
With respect to Hell's Kitchen in New York, to Murderers' Row in Chicago, and to the drudgery of the American farm, one could write with some assurance that these sides of the coin were not completely invisible. At least, Riis and Garland saw them, and so did dozens of other writers. If one were to target 1890 as a specific date, one might add that the same could not be said of those who worked the coal pits of America. The coal miner was there, and his numbers were in the tens of thousands and growing by the day. Almost more than anyone else, he represented the unseen American. No one wrote songs about him. He was less a part of American literature in 1890 than were the blacks of both the South and North. Gone from his mining-camp home before dawn and returning to it after dark, sometimes living in mining villages surrounded by barbed wire, his only comforts were those provided by the sanctity of the bedroom and the consolation found in a bottle.
These facts were true in
Pennsylvania and Kentucky, where coal mines had fueled the industrial revolution
for years, and they were increasingly true in Illinois where, by 1890, new pits
were being opened with increasing frequency. In that state, almost everything
was in a feverish state of flux. Even textbooks and newspapers were encouraging
the use of the phrase "Prairie State" rather than "Sucker State." Chicago had
burned and was rebuilding, becoming what a future poet would call the "city
of big shoulders." The big shoulders belonged to newly-arrived immigrants who
worked in the steel mills or the factories, and they worked so hard and so long
each day that the need of Chicago for more and more coal was an economic fact
of life. So did Germanic St. Louis, across the Mississippi River from southern
Illinois. Between the two cities ran railroads, and they, in turn, crossed over
the rich black coal fields of St. Clair, Macoupin, Montgomery, and Christian
counties - so rich, indeed, that nearly 100 years after their first major economic
development, their contents are probably ninety-nine percent intact.
Most of the coal produced in Illinois in 1890 came from three areas of the state:
the Spring Valley and Coal City area in the northern half; the St. Clair County
area near St. Louis; and that part of Illinois known by tradition as "Little
Egypt." Williamson County mines had been opened as early as 1869, and by 1890
the county's coal production had reached 200,000 tons a year.(2)
This is not to say that there was no coal production elsewhere. Indeed, there
were some sixty or seventy two- and three-man shallow pits near Colchester,
in McDonough County; the coal there was so close to the surface that dogs were
used to pull the small drays from the workings to the cave openings. There were
also small shafts near Gillespie, in Macoupin County. According to early geological
survey maps, most of these had closed operations as early as 1880.
The fact is that coal deposits in Illinois have the subterranean shape of a
saucer, with the rim near the surface of the ground in southern and western
Illinois. The base of that saucer runs through south central Illinois; hence
the need for deeper shafts in that area. Being compressed at a greater depth
and probably older, the coal there was of a slightly higher quality. The only
problem in the 1870's or 1880's was the lack of mechanized equipment to bring
the coal from the face of the seam to the surface, a difficulty which found
correction by the development of more mechanized systems to produce the coal.
By 1890, the Ellsworth Coal Company was either sinking or considering mines
in the Mt. Olive and Staunton areas of Macoupin County. Soon operations were
extended by various concerns to Carlinville, Litchfield, Hillsboro, Witt, Nokomis,
and Coalton in both Macoupin and Montgomery Counties.
The extent of the growth of coal production in those two counties can be illustrated
by a few figures. In 1906, for example, the Shoal Creek Company sunk its Mine
No. 1 at Panama, in Montgomery County. It required eighty-seven workers in its
initial year, 230 a year later, 375 in 1908, and 433 by 1910. Over eight-five
percent of its coal in 1910 was mined and brought to the surface by machines.
In Macoupin County, the Inspector of Mines reported in 1910 that there were
twenty-two mines in operation, seventeen on which were shipping coal to various
industrial centers elsewhere. Four of the shipping mines were in or around Virden,
one was at Girard, one was at Carlinville, one at Nilwood, one at Green Ridge,
three at Gillespie, two at Mt. Olive, and four near Staunton. It might be added
parenthetically that two other mines lay just across the Madison County line
from Staunton, and that most of the men who worked in them actually lived in
that Macoupin town. The total coal production of all Macoupin mines in 1910
was 4,040,436 tons, and all twenty-two mines employed a total of 4,681 men.
Once again, parenthetically, the inspector reported one revealing statistic:
of the total number of miners employed in the shafts, some 150 boys were among
them, although no age levels for this group were given.(3)
Villages and small settlements became minor boom towns overnight. Between Gillespie
and Staunton pit villages appeared carrying the names of Benld, Sawyerville,
Eagerville, and Mt. Clare. The first of these took its name from the ineptitude
of an itinerant sign painter who fell while attempting to paint the name of
a mine developer, Ben L. Dorsay, on the tipple. He was hurt and unable to finish
his work, and so, from that point on, the settlement was known as Ben L. D.,
the first five letters of the mine owner's name.
Working the deeper pits of Macoupin and Montgomery counties was considerably
different than the effort required in many of the shallow mines in southern
Illinois. The labor pool which fed these new mines was principally immigrant,
and the workers came from every European country, including Norway, Sweden,
and Denmark. Italians and Russians flocked to Benld, the presence of the latter
being marked by the continuing presence of a quaintly beautiful Orthodox church.
Croatians, Serbians, Bohemians, Ukrainians, Hungarians, Letts, Lithuanians,
Germans, and British also came. While not seeking to demean the hard working
and ambitious immigrants from other lands, it would be fair to say that the
more skilled deep- pit miners and, indeed, the most activist in terms of the
mine unions were those from Scotland, Wales, England, and Ireland.
Consider the case of the Panama mines. Of the 1,500 people living in that Montgomery
County town in 1910, the predominant ethnic group was Italian, with a score
of other elements represented in lesser numbers. Yet, with all of this ethnic
variety, only one name is remembered out of that hectic period, and that is
John Llewellyn Lewis, of Welsh heritage from Iowa. Those British who came to
work the mines around the turn of the century were hard-bitten, acerbic, and
cynical men who had already cut their teeth on the emerging trade unionism of
Britain. As one Scot remarked some forty years after settling in Gillespie,
"When I came to America to work in the mines, I was determined never to tip
my cap to the man who owned the mine."(4) It is strange but true that after
all of the blood and the suffering of miners in this country, the only great
novel to which American miners might relate is How Green Was My Valley, written
by Richard Llewellyn. It is a moving story about mining and mine unionism, not
in the United States but in Wales.
Early evidence of the militancy of the new immigrants to Macoupin County was
shown in the coal strike of 1894. Although the bankrupt United Mine Workers
accepted the offer of operators in early June, miners of southeast Illinois
simply refused to obey the agreement. On nine different occasions the state
militia was sent to various parts of the region to quell disturbances. These
actions by the governor brought commendations from some newspapers, particularly
the Chicago Tribune. That paper argued that, under the circumstances, perhaps
the new and troublesome immigrant workers might be speeded back to the lands
of their birth. The militia was especially needed in the Mt. Olive area of Macoupin
County, for there the miners had continuously interfered with trains carrying
coal from the nonunion fields of the south.
Some of this activity may have been inspired by a fascinating character named
Alexander Bradley. Sometimes claimed by Mt. Olive, and later nicknamed "the
General," Bradley was an Englishborn, nebulous character who flitted in and
out of mine issues for over forty years. Always flamboyantly dressed, he was
a quadrennial candidate for one office or another on the Socialist ticket, and
he played a part in one of the most violent episodes in Illinois mining history.(5)
What Bradley and others saw in the mine fields of Illinois was a kind of industrial
feudalism supported by both the law and the political establishment. The famous
muckraker, Henry D. Lloyd described the system as a "pustule of a disease spread
through the whole body." The average annual income of a Macoupin or Montgomery
County miner in 1897 was approximately $190. For this he worked 179 ten-hour
days each year. Out of this princely sum the miner supplied his own tools and
his own transportation. This reason alone would account for the militant willingness
of Macoupin and Montgomery County miners to join the United Mine Workers coal
strike of 1897.(6)
Some six months later, in 1898, the operators settled on terms which were considered
as a victory for the union. But the ordeal was not over. Led by operators who
owned mines stretching along the Chicago and Alton Railroad, a segment of management
balked at the new contract. Strongest among the protestors were the Chicago-Virden
Coal Company and the Pana Coal Company. The former was a power to be reckoned
with. Its mine at Virden was the largest single producer in the state, hoisting
348,000 tons a year prior to the 1897 strike. Even when a national board returned
findings in favor of the miners, both the Virden and the Pana companies argued
that they simply would not accept the finings.
Through the early months of 1898, the situation at Virden and at Pana went from
bad to worse. The Pana company attempted to employ nonunion white labor in an
effort to work their mine, but Christian county resistance was so great that
the company quit the effort. The same company, and possibly some agents of the
Chicago-Virden Company as well, then tried to recruit Chinese labor in California.
The results were fruitless. Finally, in August, both companies resolved to import
black labor from Alabama. By promising conditions which might have astounded
the white strikers in Pana and Virden, agents soon rounded up a trainload of
black miners from the Birmingham region of that state.
All along the route through southern Illinois, the strike organizers of the
United Mine Workers succeeded in boarding the northbound train, and in warning
the imported strikebreakers that their lives might be in peril further north.
Indeed, some shots may have been fired along the way, for the guards riding
shotgun were forced to compel their passengers to lower the blinds and not to
show their faces under any circumstance. Despite all attempts of the union,
and even despite the warnings of governor Tanner, who issued a statement on
behalf of the union, the Pana Company managed to sneak its train into Pana and
to house their strikebreakers behind a stockade near the struck mines.
The Chicago-Virden Company quickly followed suit, erecting a stockade which,
in aging photographs, tends to resemble something Jim Bridger might have thrown
up near the North Platte or on the wide Missouri. The compnay went one step
further, hiring fifty professional gunfighters from Chicago and St. Louis. Fitted
out with shiny new Winchester rifles, these men were stationed about the mine
and even on the tipple in order to protect the train which was about to arrive.
Of course, all of these preparations were in the way of a signal to the striking
miners and their supporters in Macoupin County. Led by the ubiquitous General
Bradley, hundreds of miners from Gillespie, Benld, Staunton, and particularly
Mt. Olive poured into the Virden area. The train puffed into sight at the appointed
hour, but the engineer, blessed with more wisdom than valor, puffed right out
again in the direction of Springfield. All of those men, vicious in their righteous
indignation and armed with weapons ranging from pitchforks to shotguns, seemed
too much of an obstacle.
Still the Chicago-Virden Company persisted despite the efforts of various local
authorities north of Virden who attempted to dissuade the company from its goal.
Sixty blacks were taken off the train at Tower Hill, fourteen others at Minonk,
and the train was even shunted onto a sidetrack at Galesburg in order to thwart
the attempt to break the strike.
Finally, on October 13, the Chicago-Virden Company made its final assault upon
the besieged stockade. The train rolled southward and finally into Virden, Where
it was halted next to the fort. Both the hired guards and the strikers opened
fire at once and the scene became, according to one observer, reminiscent of
the fighting at San Juan Hill some months earlier. When the engineer once again
opened his throttle and backed up in the direction of Springfield, and when
the smoke had cleared, it could be recorded that the human sacrifice had been
significant. Seven miners were killed and between thirty and forty were wounded.
Of the guards, five were killed and four wounded. No injuries were incurred
among the blacks.
Governor Tanner quickly sent the militia into the area, with orders to prevent
violence and to thwart any further attempts to bring in strikebreakers. What
happened to the blacks? Most stayed in Illinois, either settling in Springfield
or moving up to Chicago. As far as the miners were concerned, their victory
was both sweet and tragic. They now had the martyrs any movement had to have,
and one month later in Virden, the company finally agreed to pay the higher
wage scale. It was a victory for militant unionism, although won at a high cost.
A short time later, a visitor to these same Illinois mine fields affected by
the strike was to note an absence of pet dogs and cats. The truth was that there
were none. They had all been eaten.(7)
The aftermath of what came to be known as the "Virden Massacre" was an explosion
of fact into myth. The murdered "boys of Virden," as Mother Jones called them,
seemed to grow in number with each decade. Yet their martyrdom seemed undeniable
to most Macoupin County miners. A month after the fight at Virden, a State Militia
captain described the striking miners at Virden as mostly "Slavonic" who were
impossible to "educate and elevate." He was partially right in the sense that
some of the miners were Slavic in
Picture:
descent, but the nationalities
of four of the dead who came from Mr. Olive is a story unto itself. Two had
pioneer backgrounds or were British (Long and Smith), and two were Germans (Gitterle
and Kaemerer). For some inexplicable reason, all four were denied burial in
the town's established cemeteries, so their comrades were forced to buy an acre
of land in which they might be interred. Some twenty years later, Mary Harris
"Mother" Jones made a dedicatory speech for this Union Cemetery, and in it she
stated, "I hope it will be my consolation when I pass away to feel I sleep under
the clay with those brave boys." Her wishes were eventually fulfilled, and today
she rests in Mt. Olive with the "boys of Virden."(8)
Perhaps it was as Mrs. Jones had intimated in her 1923 speech at Mt. Olive:
That the martyrdom of the Virden boys had created such a militancy in what was
now called District 12 of the United Mine Workers that it would draw special
attention from mine operators. Or perhaps it was that the better working conditions
in District 12 simply developed because big capital found it to be a profitable
area in which to mine coal. At any rate, the growth in coal production and the
numbers of mine sinkings after 1898 in both Macoupin and Montgomery Counties
were quite substantial. The most significant of these were those mines developed
by the Superior Coal Company, a subsidiary of the Chicago and Northwestern Railroad.
Four major tipples were constructed at Eagerville, Sawyerville, Mt. Clare, and
at Wilsonville. The last, Superior's No. 4, was partially a response of the
World War I demand for fuel. Hence the reason for naming the town Wilsonville.
Of the four mining villages, this last was the source of the most labor trouble
for the Superior Company. It was also a little village which, as voting statistics
show, harbored more political radicals than the larger towns in the county.(9)
That big capital had discovered the possibilities for enormous profits in coal
in southern and central Illinois is shown by the fact that Joseph Leiter and
John "Bet-a-Million" Gates could be numbered among the new investors. Leiter,
a Chicagoan and typical of the nouveau riche of his time, was famous not only
for his wealth but also for his wife, a woman whose tongue sometimes belied
her social status. Malapropisms abounded in her vocabulary. She once told reporters
that she planned to attend a fancy masquerade bell dressed in the "garbage of
a nun." Entrepreneurs or not, such individuals as Gates and Leiter played for
high stakes, and their dealings were sometimes hidden behind such interlocking
directorates that union leaders were sometimes forced to bargain in the chilly
confines of some LaSalle Street bank or in the Union Trust Bank at Pittsburgh.
One small Gillespie mine, "The Little Dog," was once owned by the Lehmann Corporation,
whose most famous public outcropping was Herbert Lehmann, a New Dealer and one-time
governor of New York. Lehmann's liberal viewpoints did not serve to drastically
alter or improve the conditions of men who worked that mine.(10)
So rapid was the economic growth in both Macoupin and Montgomery counties after
1900 that the McKinley enterprises, which were based in the east, built a so-called
"interurban railroad" from Danville to Champaign and thence to St. Louis. The
track for what was jokingly called "the Toonerville trolley" ran straight down
the main street of Gillespie which, by the mid-twenties, had become the largest
town in the county. Over in Montgomery County, small settlements were absorbed
by bigger towns. The town of Witt, for instance, grew so rapidly after 1900
that it overran the nearby English settlement of Paisley.
All of the mining towns in the two counties grew rapidly, and all seemed to
develop characteristics derived from the ethnic elements which predominated
within them. Of course, some claims fell into the realm of myth, but it was
argued that the best bootleg beer after 1925 came from Mt. Olive. The best wine
and pasta, it was said, came from Benld. Because scores of English families
settled in Witt, it was said that the best home cooked candies came from that
town. The best scones and tea cakes were to be had in Gillespie. Seemingly unrelated
to anything in the way of ethnicity was the claim that the best baseball players
came from the Nokomis area.(11)
It was into this milieu of coal and ethnic expansion that, on some day between
April 4 and June 25, 1908, John Llewellyn Lewis stepped. This was the same year
in which John Mitchell, the declining hero of the United Mine Workers Union,
was to give his last National Union report. Why did Lewis come to Montgomery
County? According to Dubovsky and Van Tine, Lewis's latest biographers, he emigrated
from Iowa to Panama, Illinois partially because of the militant unionism which
pervaded the atmosphere of Montgomery and Macoupin counties. Saul Alinsky, in
a adulative biography written some years earlier, makes the same claim.(12)
Lewis's brothers as well as his father also moved to Panama, and soon the family
seemed to have seized control of the town. John was elected president of the
U.M.W. local, Thomas became the police magistrate (some years later, he would
be both the local union president and the manager of Shoal Creek No. 1), Dennie
became financial secretary of the Panama local, and three others were simply
labor union activists.(13)
In the autumn of 1909, almost all of the male population of the northern Illinois
town of Cherry was wiped out in a terrible mine disaster. Through the efforts
of John Walker, then the leader of District 12 (which included Illinois), John
L. Lewis was given the special task of lobbying for more stringent mine safety
laws in Springfield. In a sense, he never went back to Panama. Mine safety laws
were radically improved, probably due less to Lewis' efforts than to the public
hue and outcry over the Cherry disaster. Whatever the reasons, the miners of
District 12 took the position that by being militant, by not backing down an
inch, they could annually improve their financial and working conditions. Lewis
road the tide, and by 1919, he had put himself into a position which brought
him the acting presidency of the national union.(14)
Through the decade of the 1920's, the major problem for union coal miners in
northern fields was the tremendous growth in the production of nonunion coal
in Kentucky and Appalachia. With such cheap coal as a weapon, northern producers
sought to reduce gains made previously among unionized miners by attempting
to lower wages in the northern mines. Although Lewis argued the principle of
"not one step backward," the reality of nonunion coal production was something
else. In 1928, just prior to the onset of the Great Depression, affairs had
reached such a sorry state among mines operating under United Mine Workers contracts
that Lewis sent out a call of almost appalling desperation. Every district for
itself, he told his workers: each was free to make its own contract.
There had been strikes during the 1920's in Illinois, but in general conditions
had been fairly good. Irving Bernstein, in his History of the American Worker,
1920-1933, writes that local papers in southern Illinois, and in Franklin and
Williamson counties in particular, had been filled with advertisements for radios,
coats, and even books. Whatever strikes had occurred (and in District 12, there
had never been any hesitancy about calling them) had been relatively painless.
Once in a while, District 12 miners had "wildcatted" strikes over such simple
issues that it appeared as if they really wanted to have a day off. But 1928
was something else indeed, and in the end, even District 12 was forced into
a contract which lowered daily wages from $7.50 to $6.10 a day.
The touchiness of miners in District 12 did have tangible effects, however.
The pay reduction there was considerably less than in other mining areas of
the nation. Still, to the 50,000 miners in District 12, Lewis's willingness
to submit to reductions seemed tantamount to abject surrender, and this was
particularly true with respect to those who knew him best - the miners of Macoupin
County. The same could not be said for miners in Montgomery County, however,
for their situation was now becoming shaded by other changes. The mines of Witt
had fallen into long closings, and those of Coalton and Nokomis apparently had
a limited future.
Among the Macoupin County miners, it was not uncommon to hear Lewis now being
referred to as a "crook," and there were rumors that he lived in almost baronial
splendor. The last was not entirely true, but miners who took their families
to Springfield on the electric railroad almost always made a pilgrimage by the
Lewis home, a large sturdy structure which was certainly beyond anything which
they might ever own. Such mutterings were increased when Lewis, as the president
of the United Mine Workers, got into a deadly quarrel with the president of
district 12, Frank Farrington. The latter had dared to challenge Lewis's authority
and his power as well, the result being that Lewis unloaded on his enemy with
such deadly precision that no one could err in naming him the biggest boy in
the block.
While the quarrel between Farrington and Lewis was at its height, the former
was persuaded to take a trip to Europe. Within days after the departure of the
ship, Lewis released his most deadly missile. It was the revelation that Farrington,
while president of District 12, had also signed on with the Peabody Coal Company
as its "public relations expert" at an annual salary of $25,000. Peabody was
a dirty name to many Illinois miners, and Farrington's deception was incredible
in view of the fact that District 12 miners had just seen their wages lowered
in the contract of 1928. (15)
When, in 1928, Lewis told his districts to pull in their wagons and to defend
themselves, it was only a hint of the misery to come.
Picture: John
L. Lewis, about 1940.
In the following year, with the onset of the Great Depression, coal fields
in general, with the exception of those in central Illinois, became remnants
of what they had been. The economic malaise quickly metastasized into a broad
cancer. In Little Egypt, Sesser's three mines were closed, and so were Benton's
four. Johnson City soon had eight abandoned mines. Within ten years, in the
three counties of Franklin, Williamson, and Saline, there would be a total of
109 abandoned mines.
The growth of nonunion coal had a certain effect on mines around Witt and Hillsboro
in Montgomery County, and this, plus the ordinary militancy of miners in Macoupin
County, heightened the unrest of miners in those two counties over the seeming
lack of leadership in the United Mine Workers itself. After all, as has been
stressed before, if Lewis was known at all by the rank and file of his union,
it would be by the workers in Macoupin and Montgomery Counties. While miners
had taken wage decreases in both 1928 and 1929, Lewis's salary had more than
doubled. The president now owned a prosperous bank, he traded successfully in
the market, and it was said of him that he was making more money than smaller
operators. Miners in Macoupin County especially would have agreed with Lewis's
most recent biographers that, by 1929 and 1930, he had become "very much a man
of the American 1920's."(16)
By March 1930, with the movement centering in Macoupin, Montgomery, and Christian
counties, District 12 was in revolt against Lewis. An attempt was made to run
the venerable John Walker against Lewis, but this was quickly nipped in the
bud when Lewis preemptively ruled Walker constitutionally ineligible. Lewis'
opposition was a mixed bag of dedicated unionists and radicals. One should not
discount the latter, especially in Macoupin County. In the election of 1920,
for instance, there was no Communist Party listed on Illinois ballots, but the
Socialist and Socialist-Labor candidates won 1,291 votes in that county. Compared
to a non-coal county such as Adams, the difference was remarkable. Larger in
population than Macoupin, Adams County gave 404 votes to both of the radical
candidates.
Four years later, in 1924, with the Progressive party, Socialist-Labor party,
and Workers' Party (Communist) candidates on the ballots, Macoupin County tallied
6,959 votes for the first, thirty-two for the second, and seventy-seven for
the last. Once again, this far exceeded the Adams county votes for the candidates
of those three parties.
The Communist vote in Macoupin went up by fur in 1928, but in 1932 the results
were more interesting. Norman Thomas received 1,567 votes, the Socialist-Labor
candidate won fifty-one votes, and the Communist candidate received 134 votes.
The Lemke-O'Brien Union Party ticket was to affect the 1936 election, drawing
950 votes in Macoupin county, but a study of the Socialist party vote in that
election is revealing. There was no Communist candidate, and one may assume
that votes ordinarily going in that direction would be cast for the venerable
Norman Thomas. Thomas did well in three areas in Macoupin: in Benld, in Gillespie,
where he received his largest support, and in one of the Dorchester precincts.
Dorchester itself is a little farming village, but it does have one precinct
which covers the Wilsonville area, where Superior Mine No. 4 is located. There
Thomas got forty votes which, by calculation, amounts to almost three times
the number which the candidate received in five precincts of Carlineville, the
county seat.(17)
All of these factors--the Lewis-Farrington controversy; the basic radicalism
of Macoupin miners as opposed to Lewis, the "man of the twenties"; the worsening
conditions of the miners--would have profound effects upon the dramatic episodes
which were to occur in 1932. In that year, the four-year contract between District
12 miners and the operators was drawing to an end. By March 31, almost all of
the District 12 workers had left the pits due to the failure to bring negotiations
to a close. Finally, on July 9, a new contract was announced, and although many
miners may have resigned to losing ground in terms of annual income, the extent
to which they were expected to give way was shocking. The basic daily wage scale
on the previous contract was $6.10; the new contract was to lower this to $5.00.
When the contract was submitted to miners for their approval, they angrily turned
it down by a majority of more than two to one.
Within days a second proposal, which called for essentially the same agreement,
was again submitted to the miners. Lewis, by now the international president
of the U.M.W.A., ranged through the state, although mostly in the fairly safe
districts. He pleaded for acceptance of the contract. The unfortunate and still
highly respected District 12 president, John H. Walker, was given the onerous
task of selling the agreement to the more militant miners. His appearance in
Gillespie was disastrous, and it nearly erupted into personal violence against
himself.
The meeting in that town was scheduled at an unused movie theater. Hours before
the appointed time, miners began to come into town from outlying villages such
as Eagerville, Mt. Clare, Sawyerville, and Wilsonville. The more outspoken opponents
to the new contract occupied the front seats in the old building, and as Walker
began his attempt to sell the contract to the miners, one by one they leaped
to their feet. They would not go gently into that good night as lackeys or minions
who would sell their right to a fair living. As the house rocked with applause
from the angry audience, the poorly constructed old movie house almost seemed
to self destruct. Chunks of plaster fell from the ceiling upon those seated
below; not small pieces drifting through unmoving wisps of pipe smoke, but yardwide
flat pieces which fell noisily on both people and seats below. Walker, veteran
to mine militancy that he was, soon cut short his effort and quickly left town.(18)
The vote upon the second contract took place on August 6. The early pronouncements
of Lewis' immediate subordinates indicated that, despite all evidence to the
contrary, the referendum had carried in favor of the contract. Before any affirmation
of the tally sheets could be made, the news suddenly broke that all of the sheets
had been stolen. Evidence that the thieves had been high officers in District
12 was open and clear--a crime compounded by Lewis himself a few days later
when he peremptorily announced that, because the sheets had disappeared, he
was ordering miners to accept the terms of the new contract.
It was soon obvious that opposition to the skullduggery of the leadership of
District 12 was strongest in Macoupin County. There in Benld, on August 14,
rank and file miners held a meeting to determine the action to be taken against
mines elsewhere which were in obeisance to Lewis's order. There was particular
bitterness against Christian county miners who were answering the call of the
Peabody Coal Company to resume work. The Benld decision was that miners should
proceed to the Taylorville area and that they should picket working mines in
that county. By August 19 there were some 1,500 miners, most of them from Macoupin
county, en route to Taylorville. Their efforts were quickly successful; the
Christian County miners refused to cross picket lines.
Temporarily successful in this effort, the attention of the Macoupin County
miners now turned to southern Illinois, where miners of Franklin county had
returned to work under the terms of the new contract. In Little Egypt, conditions
were of a much different nature. Earlier picket lines had been dispersed by
questionable tactics on the part of county law authorities. One picket had been
murdered, and many of the workers in that area were anxious to return to work
lest their places of employment be permanently closed.
Still, the union leaders in the Gillespie and Benld area made plans for a huge
picketing demonstration, announcing that no miners would be armed, and that
the parade of autos into southern Illinois was to be well organized and peaceful.
Some 10,000 miners left the Staunton area, the tunes of the local municipal
band ringing in their ears.
The circumstances of what soon came to be known as the "Battle of Mulkeytown"
seem clearly to have been a result of collaboration between the sheriff of Franklin
county, state police who directed the caravan into an ambush, and militant Lewis
followers among the local miners. Hundreds of high school boys, coal miners,
and businessmen were deputized by the Franklin county sheriff, as well as two
physicians who were told to treat only Franklin county people among the expected
casualties.
When the head of the vast cavalcade reached U.S. Highway 51south of DuQuoin,
the state police shunted the leading cars eastward on State Highway 14. When
the leading cars crossed the Little Muddy River, a short distance from the village
of Mulkeytown, the sheriff's deputies suddenly appeared ahead. Shots were fired,
men were beaten, cars were pushed over, and tires were punctured. It was hardly
a melee, much less a battle. There was no contest, for only one side was armed.
The great caravan turned around, and headed northward. Five of the would-be
picketers were casualties; none of the sheriff's deputies had been wounded.(19)
With miners in southern Illinois working in the pits at the reduced wages, and
a crumbling situation in the Peabody mines in Christian County, the militant
miners now called a convention for September 1, 1932. Meeting in Gillespie and
in the old Colonial Theater, which had shook at the rejection of John H. Walker's
midsummer plea to accept the new contract, the convention recommended the organization
of a new union to be called the Progressive Miners of America. Its acting president,
later to be its regular president, was a working miner, Claude Pearcy of Gillespie.
How odd it would seem to some miners later when they realized that Pearcy, a
decent and intelligent man, had been born in Lucas, Iowa, the birthplace of
John L. Lewis, and that only eight years separated them in age.(20)

While it may be true that, as some writers claim, the Progressive Miners of
America (later the Progressive Mine Workers of America) were made up of pure
militants, Communists, Musteites, Ku Klux Klanners, opportunists, and worse,
whatever can be said in this respect can be repeated in turn for their opponents,
the United Mine Workers. The 1930's, at least the years following the establishment
of a second mine union, were filled with violence wherever and whenever the
two unions came into conflict over control. While this was not so much true
of Montgomery County because its coal mining days were temporarily ended, or
in Macoupin County, in which almost everyone was a Progressive, it was true
in southern Illinois and in Christian County. The Progressives (called "Proggies"
by the United Mine Workers) did bargain into a slightly better contract, which
added both advantages and woes to the new union. Operators, such as Peabody
in Christian County, managed to obtain state militia protection from picketing,
and simply refused to consider the more costly Progressive contract. In southern
Illinois, whenever miners were taken with the "Progressive disease," they were
often summarily fired.
Men died on both sides. Strikers were shot by national guardsmen, fights between
scores of men were everyday occurrences in 1933 and 1934, and even the members
of the Progressive Mine Workers Womens' Auxiliary were assaulted in Franklin
County. This last organization, headed by Agnes Burns Wieck of Belleville, was
no less militant in its activities than the union itself.(21)
A major problem of the Progressives was in obtaining recognition by the National
Labor Relations Board, over which Lewis exercised so much influence. It was
a particularly damaging situation, for any disputes involving discrimination
against miners with Progressive affiliations had no hearing. President Pearcy
of the Progressives attempted to rid the union of its red-tainted officers,
in one instance firing the editor of the union newspaper, Gerry Allard. Lewis'
stranglehold on the Department of Labor and his heavy contributions to the Democratic
Party delayed National Labor Relations Board considerations of Progressive claims
until midsummer of 1937. The recognition of the P.M.W.A. by the Board came after
President Roosevelt's second inauguration and may have had some relationship
to the quarrel which was soon to take place between the President and Lewis.
Though the issue of radical militancy had died along with the closing coal mines
of Montgomery County, it remained a vital factor in yearly developments in the
1930's in Macoupin county. In 1937, over what seems to have been a slight grievance
in Superior Mine No. 4 in Wilsonville, miners there refused to come topside
at the close of the day's operations. It was the first so-called sit down strike
to be conducted in a coal mine, and it lasted very nearly a week.(22)
And the union itself continued to have troubles. In 1939, two of its organizers
were suspended on the charges of having proselyted for causes and principles
adverse to the aims and aspirations of the union as a whole. Even at this date,
some forty-one years later, it is dangerous to state just why the two men were
punished. One may suspect at some risk that the two individuals were advocating
principles so far to the left that even union officials could not support them.(23)
With virtually all of the old mines of Macoupin and Montgomery closed in 1980,
one can now summarize the contributions of the two counties in terms of radical
unionism and workers' militancy. There was the violence in the Mt. Olive coal
field in the early 1890's and the Virden-Pana battle of 1898. John L. Lewis
emerged in Montgomery County after 1908. He rose to leadership of the United
Mine Workers and, with his friend Allan Haywood, once of Witt in Montgomery
County, later organized the Committee of Industrial Organization in the 1930's.
There was the peculiar "General" Bradley of Mt. Olive, and the famous "Mother"
Jones who would be buried there. The latter not only helped to organize the
International Workers of the World, the I.W.W. or the "wobblies," but she had
some kind of a mysterious hand in the workings of the Mexican Revolution in
1915. And for Mother Jones' connoisseurs (she seems to have been rediscovered
of late), there is even a radical feminist magazine published today in San Francisco.
Called simply Mother Jones, its recent Christmas issue carried an artist's illustration
of Mother Jones in a Santa Claus suit, with the notion that the leading article
inside was entitled "Happy Hell Raising." Then there was the violence of the
anti-Lewis movement and the organization of the Progressive Mine Workers of
America. Forty-eight years after its founding, the union still exists, although
it would be difficult to enumerate its membership.
Through it all, was there anything in the way of contradiction, anything in
the way of anomaly? John L. Lewis came to work in Panama in 1908. One year earlier,
Louis Kenneth Eilers was born in Gillespie. The first became a great union leader,
the second the president of the Eastman-Kodak Company. Allan Haywood emigrated
from England to Witt in Montgomery County, though his stay there was brief.
Haywood eventually became a high official in the C.I.O. and in the United Automobile
Workers of America. Leslie Berry Worthington was also born in England. He was
brought to Witt by his family at about the same time Haywood arrived there from
what was called the "old country." Worthington, like Eilers, had a long career
in the business world, eventually becoming the president of U.S. Steel. Were
they all examples of the way that was in the free-wheeling America of seventy
years ago? Or were their successes, all of them, the results of the electric
social climate of the coal fields of Macoupin and Montgomery counties?(24)
NOTES
(1)Garland's dissection
of farm life is found in his Main-Travelled Roads (1891). Riis wrote How the
Other Half Lives (1890), a powerful indictment of social disparity in New York
City
(2)John Keiser, Building for the Centuries: Illinois, 1865 to 1898 (Urbana:
Univ. Of Illinois Press, 1977), pp. 12-13. Many of the early St. Clair County
miners were active in the National Progressive Union of Miners and Mine Laborers,
an affiliation of the Knights of Labor. The original charter for Local Union
No. 644, District 6 (Hillsboro, Ill.) was, for many years, displayed on the
wall of Room 508, Ridgely Bank Building, Springfield, Ill. See Dallas M. Young,
"A History of the Progressive Miners of America, 1932-1940," Diss. University
of Illinois 1942, p.9.
(3)The Area News (Gillespie, Illinois) 22 Aug. 1980, section 2, p. 1, and Melvyn
Dubovsky and Warren Van Tine, John L. Lewis: A Biography (New York: Quadrangle/The
New York Times Book Club, 1977), p. 21.
(4)My own recollections. As to the importance of the British in the American
labor movement, consider Sam Gompers, a London-born Jew and the leader of the
American Federation of Labor for decades; Philip Murray, a Scot and important
labor leader in the 1930's; John Mitchell, American born of a Scottish mother,
and early leader of the United Mine Workers of America; Allan Haywood, an Englishman
and 1930s' leader of the C.I.O.; and John Brophy, Lancashire-born coal union
leader in the West Virginia fields.
(5)Keiser, Building for the Centuries, pp. 246-47. See also: John Keiser, "The
Union Miners Cemetery at Mt. Olive, Illinois--A Spirit-Thread of Labor History,"
Journal of the Illinois State Historical Society, 62 (1969), 229-66. Keiser
gives a fine portrait of Bradley, who was born in England in 1866, brought to
Collinsville in 1873 by his family, and later settled in Mt. Olive.
(6)Victor Hicken, "The Virden and Pana Mine Wars of 1898," Journal of the Illinois
State Historical Society, 52 (1959), 264-66. The quote by Lloyd is from his
book, A Strike of Millionaires against Miners (Chicago: n.p., 1890), p. 10.
(7)Hicken, "The Virden and Pana Mine Wars," pp. 265-78; also Keiser, "The Union
Miners Cemetery at Mt. Olive, Illinois, pp. 243-50.
(8)Ibid, p. 251. Dale Fetherling, Mother Jones: The Miners' Angel (Carbondale:
Southern Illinois Univ. Press, 1974), p. 16.
(9)The Area News, section 2, p. 1. Also, tally sheets from the 1936 election,
copy forwarded by Philip Brown, Macoupin County Clerk. The 1936 selection, the
only one close to the 1931 depression for which tally sheets are still available
in the County Clerk's Office, shows forty-seven Socialist and Socialist-Labor
votes for Wilsonville, Carlinville, the county seat, had only fourteen in the
same categories. There was no Communist presidential candidate listed for Illinois
in 1936.
(10)McAlister Coleman, Men and Coal (New York: Arno and The New York Times,
1969), p. 76. In so far as working conditions in the coal mines were concerned,
it should be remembered that the official figure for deaths from pit accidents
since 1900 is 102,968. Some 3,242 miners died in 1907 alone. These figures do
not include deaths from slow but relentless black lung disease which, in 1975,
was accounting for between 4,000 and 5,000 deaths among old miners. See the
Chicago Tribune, 12 Mar. 1980, p. 10.
(11)Nokomis produced two baseball Hall of Famers: Charles "Red" Ruffing of the Yankees, and Jim Bottomley of the Cardinals. Ruffing lost part of a foot while working as a miner but it did not hinder him from winning 273 games from 1924 to 1947.
(12)Dubovsky and Van Tine, p. 20. Saul Alinsky, John L. Lewis: An Unauthorized
Biography (New York: G. P. Putnam's Sons, 1949), p. 21. Alinsky's glosses over
almost everything in Lewis's life which might have been ethically questionable.
(13)Dubovsky and Van Tine, pp. 56-57.
(14)Irving Bernstein, A History of the American Worker, 1920-1933: The Lean
Years (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1960), pp. 362-74.
15)Ibid., pp. 360-69, and Coleman, p. 138. I also draw upon my own memory for
some of the impressions Macoupin County miners had of John L. Lewis.
(16)Bernstein, pp. 362-65; Coleman, pp. 142-43. As for Lewis's 1920's financial
dealings, see Dubovsky and Van Tine, p. 150.
(17)Most of these figures come from the Illinois Blue Book, an annual publication
of the State of Illinois concerning the state. Phil Brown, County Clerk, Macoupin
County gave me a copy of the 1936 vote tallies. It is interesting to note that
Jennie Lee, the wife of British Labor Socialist Aneurin Bevan, made several
visits to Gillespie during the 1930's. Not only was it the Scots settlement
which drew her there, but the radical coloration of the mining population as
well. It might be noted here that in 1976 there were seventy-four Macoupin County
votes for the Communist candidate, five for the Socialist-Labor, and seven for
the Socialist. Adams County, by comparison, tallied twenty-five Communist, eight
Socialist-Labor, and twelve Socialist votes.
(18)Bernstein, pp. 370-77. I was present in the old Colonial Theater when Walker
spoke.
(19)The events of summer, 1932, are described in Dallas Young's Ph.D. dissertation,
pp. 49-95; Bernstein, pp. 370-77; Dubovsky and Van Tine, pp. 163-77; and Coleman,
pp. 140- 42.
(20)Young, p. 113. I saw Mr. Pearcy often. I also attended school with his children.
(21)Ibid., p. 117. Through the summers of 1932 and 1933 there were countless
rallies and picnics throughout the area in support of the Progressive cause.
The "women's auxiliary" was always present. I have in my memorabilia a clipping
which describes a rally on the farm of Bill Hicken at Witt. The article ends:
"Every one was tired and weary but well pleased at having been present to take
part in such an enjoyable outing."
(22)"Sit Down Strike Continues," St. Louis Star-Times, 25 May 1937, p. 1.
(23)Young, p. 184, gives no hint as to why the two men were suspended. I have
my own opinions, having been acquainted with one of them. Dubovsky and Van Tine,
p. 170, state that the Progressives were an admixture of Communists and Musteites,
Ku Klux Klanners, opportunists, and pie-card artists. I have no idea what a
pie-card artist is, but the term Musteite was applied to any radical who espoused
the ideas taught at the Brookwood Labor College in New York state.
(24)My parents knew the Haywood family well, I also knew the families of Leslie
Worthington and Louis Eilers.
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