American History Tellers - The Gilded Age | Workers Revolt! | 5
Episode Date: August 19, 2020As the century came to a close, labor unrest reached explosive new heights. Industrial expansion made businessmen and bankers rich. But workers faced low wages, long hours, and dangerous cond...itions. They sought strength in numbers, fighting for basic rights against the power of big business—and often faced violent pushback.In May 1886, a bomb exploded at a peaceful labor protest in Chicago’s Haymarket Square. Police fired their guns into the crowds. Panic engulfed the city. And the nation’s most powerful labor union suffered a devastating blow. In Homestead, Pennsylvania, steelworkers waged a bloody battle against private security forces. And in Pullman, Illinois, railroad workers laid down their tools, sparking a nationwide railroad shutdown—one that President Grover Cleveland would crush with brutal force.Listen ad-free on Wondery+ hereSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.
Transcript
Discussion (0)
Wondery Plus subscribers can binge new seasons of American History Tellers early and ad-free right now.
Join Wondery Plus in the Wondery app or on Apple Podcasts.
Imagine it's May 1886 in Chicago.
You're a carpenter in a furniture shop. Owning this
craft has been your pride and joy ever since you left Germany a decade ago. On days like this,
the work brings you comfort. Just 24 hours ago, a bomb exploded at a labor rally in Haymarket Square,
killing a policeman, setting off a riot in the street. Now the whole city is in a panic.
You turn to one of your apprentices, who is sanding
down a table. Uh, you better go home now. People are crazed. It wouldn't be wise to be out late.
But he's looking past you, his eyes widening. You turn as a pair of police officers push their
way into the shop. The bigger of the two approaches you. Well, hello officers. We're
just closing out for the day. What can I do for you?
Where were you last night?
Last night, I was at home with my wife playing cards.
His disbelief is plain to see.
Uh-huh.
We're rounding up suspects for the bombing.
I see.
Wait, you think I had something to do with the explosion?
I was nowhere near Haymarket.
The policeman ignores you and turns to his partner.
Search the premises.
And don't forget the office in the back. Officers, this must be some misunderstanding. I promise you there's nothing for you here. We'll see about that. We're looking into activities of known anarchists,
foreigners, people planning conspiracies to destroy this city. Anarchists? Sure, I'm active in my union,
but I'm no radical. You have evidence? I'd like to see your warrant.
But the officer just looks at you with disdain.
I've always said we couldn't trust you people.
What, what are you, German, right?
Anger is building deep in your chest, but you know you need to stay calm.
Out of the corner of your eye, though, you see what a mess the young officer is making of the shop.
Please watch it.
Throwing your arms up in a gesture of peace, look him in the eyes.
Sir, I know you lost men in your ranks last night.
It's a terrible tragedy.
This isn't what the protesting workers had in mind,
but I'm telling you, I am just a carpenter.
I'm not hiding any bombs in these cabinets.
That's enough. You're under arrest.
Arrest? For what?
He ignores you again and marches you out onto the street. Your head is pounding with confusion. You've never felt like such a
target in the city you thought was your home. Have you ever wondered who created that bottle
of sriracha that's living in your fridge? or why nearly every house in America has at least one game of Monopoly. Introducing The Best Idea Yet,
a brand new podcast about the surprising origin stories of the products you're obsessed with.
Listen to The Best Idea Yet on the Wondery app or wherever you get your podcasts.
From the team behind American History Tellers comes a new book, The Hidden History of the
White House. Each chapter will bring you inside the fierce power struggles, intimate moments,
and shocking scandals that shaped our nation. From the War of 1812 to Watergate.
Available now wherever you get your books.
From Wondery, I'm Lindsey Graham, and this is American History Tellers.
Our history, your story. In May 1886, a bomb exploded at a peaceful labor rally in Chicago's Haymarket Square,
triggering violence that led to nearly a dozen deaths.
Panic swept the city as police rounded up hundreds of immigrants,
radicals, and labor activists they deemed suspicious.
The carnage and chaos in Chicago dealt a devastating blow to the already vulnerable
labor movement. The Gilded Age had brought great riches to the titans of industry,
but workers continued to struggle to assert their rights against the power of big business.
They toiled for hours on end in dangerous conditions, barely scraping out a living.
In the 1890s, their conflicts with corporate and government power grew more explosive.
From the heart of the steel industry in Pittsburgh to the nerve center of the
national railroad grid in Chicago, labor conflicts sparked deadly battles.
Popular fury spread from factories to farms. In the Midwest and Great Plains,
long-suffering farmers forged a radical new political movement to challenge big business
and the banks. But the giants of capitalism responded with force,
threatening to stifle popular protest. Across the country, Americans rallied to reclaim their power
and demand justice. This is Episode 5, Workers' Revolt.
During the Gilded Age, industrial workers knew the deck was stacked against them.
They labored at dangerous jobs, 60 hours or more per week,
for paltry wages that barely put food on the table.
Some industries even demanded 14 or 15-hour shifts.
The job market was unpredictable, and workers were constantly at risk
of losing their positions to advances in technology
with a flood of immigrants arriving on American shores.
Workers responded by seeking strength in numbers
and organizing unions to fight for basic rights.
The Gilded Age gave rise to dozens of national organizations
representing different crafts and trades.
In the 1880s and 90s, more than 23,000 strikes erupted nationwide,
involving 6.5 million workers.
But unions faced daunting challenges.
They confronted faceless
corporations backed up by vast capital, high-priced lawyers, and government support. Time and again,
federal and state governments came down on the side of big business. Corporations relied on
friendly governors and mayors to help crush labor uprisings, whether through court injunctions or
by deploying troops. In the 1880s, American workers mobilized around a common goal,
an eight-hour workday. For decades, employees have been agitating for more time to spend with
their families and pursue a life outside of work. They also hoped that by cutting hours,
they could increase the value of their labor and boost their wages. So they rallied around the
slogan, eight hours for work, eight hours for rest, and eight hours for what you will.
Union leaders set a deadline of May 1st, 1886 for employers to implement the eight-hour day.
But as the deadline approached and employers showed no signs of taking action,
labor leaders upped the ante.
They called for a national general strike on May 1st,
the inaugural International Workers' Day, or May Day as it came to be known. Some 300,000 workers nationwide walked off the job to put pressure on employers
and governments for an eight-hour day. The epicenter of the May Day strikes was Chicago,
home to 80,000 members of the Knights of Labor, the biggest labor organization in the country.
But several hundred anarchists were also gaining strength in the city.
They joined the knights in the strikes and calls for an eight-hour workday, but their ultimate goal was far more ambitious. They dreamed of a revolution to overthrow capitalism. So when May
1st came and their employers still hadn't budged, workers and the anarchists took action. That day,
some 80,000 workers in Chicago walked off the job and peacefully marched down Michigan Avenue.
But tension soon escalated.
Two days later, strikers at a local plant attacked workers who crossed the picket line.
Police opened fire on the demonstrators, killing four.
Chicago workers were enraged.
The following evening, as a light drizzle fell on Chicago's Haymarket Square, 3,000 people took to the streets in protest. But suddenly, someone threw a dynamite bomb into the crowd near a line of police,
instantly killing an officer. Panicked police fired their guns into the crowd. Their shots
killed seven other officers and at least four civilians. Several dozen more were injured.
After the bombing, a wave of hysteria gripped the city. A local reporter described the
mass panic as one of the strangest frenzies of fear that ever distracted a whole community.
Police found no evidence about who was responsible, but they believed the bombing was part of an
anarchist conspiracy. Employers, government officials, and the local press united in
condemning radicals and demanding retribution. The Chicago Times called the perpetrators arch-counselors of riot, pillage, incendiarism, and murder.
300 prominent business leaders pledged $100,000
to support police efforts against anarchists.
And then in the coming days, the mayor declared martial law
and permitted police to enter dozens of homes and offices without search warrants.
The police arrested hundreds of anarchist leaders,
labor activists, and immigrants they considered suspicious. Eight anarchists were eventually put
on trial, but none were directly involved in the bombing. Instead, authorities tried them as
accessories to murder due to their inflammatory speeches. The judge was blatantly hostile toward
the defendants, and the jury was made up of white-collar workers who declared their belief in the defendants' guilt even before the trial started. In the end, the judge sentenced five
to death and three to prison. The Haymarket bombing tainted the entire labor movement.
Americans increasingly equated labor activism with radicalism and violence. In the wake of the bombing, the Knights
of Labor declined. The general public mistakenly believed they were inciting anarchy, and internal
troubles had long dogged the organization too. The Knights had envisioned one great brotherhood of
workers, but they never managed to fully unite their diverse membership, and recruitment dwindled.
Before long, skilled workers deserted the Knights and flocked to the
American Federation of Labor, an association of several national unions. The AFL was led by Samuel
Gompers, a 5'4 Jewish cigar maker who had immigrated to America from London at age 13.
Whereas the Knights of Labor dreamed of a utopian future where laborers took control of corporations,
the AFL was more measured.
Gompers called his philosophy pure and simple. He wanted better wages, hours, and working
conditions. These practical reforms were more appealing to skilled workers than the sweeping
goals of the knights. The AFL was also made up a smaller individual union specific to different
trades, from carpenters to miners to shoe workers and cigar makers like Gompers. But the largest of all was the Iron and Steel Workers Union. It was centered
in Pittsburgh, the centerpiece of American industrial progress. Across the country,
strikes were pitting labor and management against each other. But few conflicts would be as dramatic
as the looming battle in Homestead, Pennsylvania, where workers would rise up against America's most powerful steel producer. Andrew Carnegie's Homestead Works was situated a few miles east of Pittsburgh on
the banks of the Monongahela River. It was one of 12 plants owned by Carnegie. Together, they
produced a quarter of America's steel. In the late 1880s, Carnegie hired Henry K. Frick to manage the
daily operations of Homestead. Frick had built an empire manufacturing coke, an essential fuel for steel production.
He was as ruthless a businessman as Carnegie.
But while Carnegie was charming, Frick was cold and hard-edged.
Soon, Frick stepped up production demands.
His relentless drive to cut costs and labor needs helped Homestead's profits soar,
but the furious pace of work only made conditions more dangerous for steelworkers.
Workers grew fed up with the low wages and brutal conditions.
Many of them joined the Amalgamated Association of Iron and Steelworkers, along with some 25,000 other Pittsburgh steelworkers, to fight for better conditions.
Carnegie had long voiced his support for unions, but Frick was a notorious enemy of organized labor.
As Frick installed more sophisticated machinery and steelmaking techniques to improve efficiency,
he replaced skilled members with unskilled, non-unionized workers.
The union's strength steadily declined.
Then, in the early 1890s, the price of steel plummeted.
By then, Carnegie had stepped back from the daily business of running his steel
empire. In May of 1892, Carnegie traveled to his castle in Scotland and left Frick in charge.
When the amalgamated workers' contract with Homestead expired in June of that year,
Frick decided to slash wages. Furious workers hung Frick in effigy from telegraph poles in town.
But Frick refused to compromise. He knew he held the upper hand.
He could always bring in non-unionized workers
to break the strike.
Soon he began building a 12-foot-high fence
around Homestead, topped with barbed wire.
It had slits for sharpshooters,
and Frick mounted searchlights on towering platforms.
Workers dubbed the barricade Fort Frick.
To them, the message was clear.
Frick had declared war.
Imagine it's late June, 1892. You're a steelworker at Homestead Steelworks, and for weeks,
your union has been trying to stop management from cutting your wages. You and a fellow worker
are approaching the barbed wire wood fence that now encircles the mill. You gaze up at the sniper towers and water cannons, shaking your head. I can't believe it's come
to this. Doesn't Frick have anything better to do than build a giant fence? He's acting
like we're an enemy army, not his own workers. Your co-worker flashes you a wry smile. Well,
for Frick, that's the same thing. You approach the main gate, only to discover that there's
a massive metal chain
barricading the door. Oh god, it's locked. He's locked us out. A guard toting a rifle spots you
from behind a gap in the fence. Stand back. We've sealed off the plant. What? What happened to the
negotiations? Our contract isn't up for another day. I don't know anything about contracts. I'm
just ordering you to disperse. Unbelievable. Frick is breaking the contract.
Workers arriving for the day shift are gathering behind you.
You sense an anger rippling through the crowd as they realize what's happening.
But your coworker looks more defeated than angry.
Well, what are we going to do now?
We realize Frick isn't going to just stop production.
The lock means only one thing. He's bringing in scabs.
Not if we stop him.
How can we stop him? What could we possibly do? We'll gather arms. We'll get hundreds of our men to guard
the plant so no one can get in. That's crazy. They'll get past us. Frick will call in every
deputy sheriff within 10 miles. Not if we seal off the roads. We turn to the crowd,
your mind bursting with ideas. All right, all right, everyone, come on.
We're not going to let anyone in.
If they won't let us in, no one gets in.
We'll guard the waterfront, patrol the railroad depots.
No scabs, no deputy, no one will get in there alive.
Who's with me?
As the crowd roars, you smile with grim satisfaction.
For the first time in months, your rage over the wage cuts, over Frick's hard-nosed tactics, is turning to resolve.
You're going to show him who really owns this town.
On June 28, 1892, Frick closed down Homestead, locking out 3,800 workers and announcing his refusal to negotiate with the union. In response, the union members seized the town, blocking all roads into Homestead
and patrolling the plant to ward off strikebreakers. Meanwhile, Frick hired new,
non-unionized workers. To protect them from the wrath of the strikers, he contracted with a
private security force, the Pinkerton National Detective Agency. Pinkerton agents were despised for their long history of breaking strikes,
infiltrating unions, and intimidating workers.
On the morning of July 6, 1892, 300 armed Pinkerton agents floated on barges down the
Monongahela River. Most were new recruits, and they were stunned by the fury they faced
when they tried to come ashore. Workers armed with rifles and sticks rushed the pier, and an ugly battle began.
For twelve hours, they traded gunfire with the Pinkertons from the dock.
The workers tossed sticks of dynamite at the barges and pushed a flaming raft into the river.
They torched a rail car filled with barrels of oil and rolled it down the tracks beside the pier.
That evening, the Pinkertons raised a white flag in surrender,
and the workers finally allowed them to come ashore.
But the moment the Pinkertons set foot on the riverbank,
the workers brutally beat them.
Their wives and children joined in, hurling rocks at the agents.
One Pinkerton described how,
sticks, stones, and dirt were thrown at us.
The women pulled us down, spat in our faces,
kicked us, and tore our clothing off while the crowd jeered and cheered.
The Pinkertons managed to escape town on a night train.
By then, half of the 300 agents were injured.
Seven Pinkertons and nine workers lay dead.
Four days later, the Pennsylvania governor ordered more than 8,000 militia to Homestead
to protect new strikebreakers and keep the peace.
Americans were horrified by
the violence, though. Some sympathized with the union, though most thought the workers had gone
too far. That summer, news of the conflict at Homestead reached a prominent New York anarchist
named Alexander Berkman. He decided to take deadly action against Frick, hoping to inspire workers to
overthrow capitalism. Berkman traveled to Pittsburgh and set up an appointment with Frick,
claiming to work for an employment agency that could help him hire strikebreakers.
On July 23rd, Berkman burst into Frick's office.
He shot Frick twice in the neck and stabbed him in the leg.
The wounded Frick, though, managed to wrestle Berkman to the ground
with the help of a colleague, and police soon arrested him.
Frick survived the assassination attempt, and sensational news reports of the attack helped garner public
sympathy for him. But the strike continued for months. Frick brought in new workers,
many of them black men from the South. They were eager to land one of the few well-paid
jobs available to them, but their arrival enraged white workers. Tensions culminated
in a riot that fall as white workers attacked black
homes. Amid the violence, public support for the strikers continued to wane, and in November,
the Amalgamated Association finally conceded defeat. Frick celebrated the victory, writing to
Carnegie, we had to teach our employees a lesson, and we have taught them one that they will never
forget. The battle at Homestead had revealed the power of corporations
to starve their employees into submission.
But despite the steelworkers' defeat,
their desperate fight galvanized workers across the country.
In Chicago, 90,000 workers celebrated Homestead Day,
sacrificing a day's wages each to raise $40,000 in funds for the strikers.
And the conflict inspired a popular labor anthem,
Father Was Killed by the Pinkerton Men.
But factory laborers were not the only Americans
who felt like the system was rigged against them.
Farmers were building a radical new grassroots movement too,
and they were challenging the government
that upheld the power of capitalism
where it mattered most, at the ballot box.
In a quiet suburb, a community is shattered by the death of a beloved wife and mother.
But this tragic loss of life quickly turns into something even darker.
Her husband had tried to hire a hitman on the dark web to kill her.
And she wasn't the only target.
Because buried in the depths of the internet is the Kill List, a cache of chilling documents containing names, photos, addresses,
and specific instructions for people's murders. This podcast is the true story of how I ended up
in a race against time to warn those whose lives were in danger. And it turns out,
convincing a total stranger someone wants them dead is not easy. Follow Kill List on the Wondery
app or wherever you get your podcasts. You can listen to Kill List and more Exhibit C True Crime
shows like Morbid early and ad-free right now by joining Wondery+. Check out Exhibit C in the
Wondery app for all your true crime listening.
I'm Tristan Redmond, and as a journalist, I've never believed in ghosts. But when I discovered that my wife's great-grandmother was murdered in the house next door to where I grew up,
I started wondering about the inexplicable things that happened in my childhood bedroom.
When I tried to find out more, I discovered that someone who slept in my room after me,
someone I'd never met, was visited by the ghost of a faceless woman. So I started digging into the murder in my wife's
family, and I unearthed family secrets nobody could have imagined. Ghost Story won Best Documentary
Podcast at the 2024 Ambies and is a Best True Crime nominee at the British Podcast Awards 2024.
Ghost Story is now the first ever Apple Podcast Series Essential. Each month, Apple
Podcast editors spotlight one series that has captivated listeners with masterful storytelling,
creative excellence, and a unique creative voice and vision. To recognize Ghost Story being chosen
as the first series essential, Wondery has made it ad-free for a limited time,
only on Apple Podcasts. If you haven't listened yet, head over to Apple Podcasts to hear for yourself.
Even with a rapid growth in industry, the majority of Americans were still farmers in the late 19th
century. Farmers had long accepted the unpredictability of weather and the ebb and flow
of local markets. But during the Gilded Age, their livelihoods came to depend on forces that seemed even further from their reach. The expansion of industry and finance brought
sweeping changes to the nation's farms, fields, and pastures. Railroads created a national market
for crops. Farmers now bought plows, harvesters, and fertilizers on credit, linking their fortunes
with banks in Chicago and New York. But innovation had a downside. Big city banks
charged exorbitant interest rates. New technology brought higher yields, causing crop prices to
plummet. As farmers' incomes fell, they struggled to pay back their loans and sank deeper into debt.
Many defaulted and lost their land. Farmers felt crushed by the power of Wall Street.
They believed the nation's economic structures served bankers and corporations at their expense.
So to win real change, they realized they needed to enter politics.
But for a growing number of farmers, neither the Democrats nor the Republicans had the answer.
They felt the times demanded more than what the two prominent political parties were offering.
They wanted a radical reshaping of the American economic and political order. So in 1892, they placed their bets on the upcoming presidential
election. That February, grassroots groups came together in St. Louis, Missouri with the goal of
creating a new national party, the Populist Party. Delegates included farmers, labor unionists,
and reformers pushing everything from prohibition to women's suffrage. Farmer and activist Leonidas Polk issued a clarion call to action in his opening address
to the convention.
The time has come for the Great West, the Great South, and the Great Northwest to link
their hands and hearts together and march to the ballot box and take possession of the
government, restore it to the principles of our fathers, and run it in the interests of
the people.
In July, the newly formed Populist Party held their first official national convention in Omaha, Nebraska.
They demanded government regulation of big business, government ownership of the railroad, telegraph, and telephone,
and a graduated income tax to redistribute wealth to farmers and workers.
They also called for an eight-hour workday, the direct election of U.S. senators,
and a one-term limit on the presidency. Above all, the populace fiercely rejected the gold standard,
which they felt only served eastern bankers and businessmen. They wanted more widely available
silver-backed currency, believing it would help farmers and debtors pay back their loans.
The party platform was a blistering plea for far-reaching change. It urged the people to seize control of government and fight the powers corrupting democracy,
reading,
The fruits of the toil of millions are boldly stolen to build up colossal fortunes for a few,
while their possessors despise the republic and endanger liberty.
From the same prolific womb of government and justice,
we breed the two great classes, tramps and millionaires.
The populists nominated James B. Weaver, a former Civil War general from Iowa, as their candidate for president.
He would be running against Republican incumbent Benjamin Harrison and the Democratic former president, Grover Cleveland.
But Weaver's influence in the populist's reach was limited to the Midwest and West.
To make a real bid for the presidency,
they needed strong support from the South. So populists tried to build an interracial coalition
of poor farmers, black and white, making the case that harsh laws and policies kept all races from
making progress. But many poor white voters rejected the populists, and white Southern
Democrats exploited racial hostility to court votes. In the end, racial prejudice won out over economic concerns.
The populists lost out on a key endorsement from the largest regional organization of white Southern farmers.
Instead, that group threw in their lot with the Democrats,
who were devoting their energies to barring blacks from the ballot box.
Without the South, the populist chances were doomed.
When Election Day came, Democrat Grover Cleveland captured the presidency, for the second time.
The populists had earned more than 8% of the popular vote and carried four Western states.
It was a strong showing for a third party, but it fell far short of a majority.
The party failed to attract not only the rural South, but urban workers in the Northeast.
Though their bid for the presidency failed, the populace made gains that year at the local level. They elected three governors,
five U.S. senators, and ten representatives. In total, nearly 1,500 populace candidates won
their races. The biggest populace stronghold was in Kansas, where the populace captured the
governorship and the state senate. But contested returns for the state house of representatives sparked a bitter conflict.
When the legislature convened in Topeka on January 10, 1893,
both the populists and the Republicans claimed the majority.
The impasse dragged on for weeks.
Finally, in mid-February, the populists armed themselves with guns,
took control of the legislature by force, and locked the Republicans out.
It looked like the election would only be resolved through violence.
Imagine it's February, 1893. It's a bitterly cold morning in Topeka, Kansas. You woke early to the news that the populace had taken control of the State House chamber under armed guard.
You're the Republican Speaker of the House. State House chamber under armed guard. You're the
Republican Speaker of the House. You intend to stay that way. You and dozens of your colleagues
have gathered in the lobby of the legislature to plan your next move. All right, men, it's time we
take back the chamber and proceed with the people's business. One of the new representatives,
a rookie in politics, steps forward and feebly raises his hand.
Mr. Douglas, I don't see why we have to do this. Surely this can be resolved through the courts.
No, we cannot afford to wait. Right now, we're the laughingstock of Kansas.
Every hour that goes by just makes it worse.
Besides, the populace have already taken the governorship and the state senate.
I'll be damned if I'm going to let them steal the house, too.
Now, enough talk. Let's get in there.
You start directing your forces.
You men, you block the stairway so no one else can get up.
The rest of you follow me. I'll work on the guard.
You find a way to open that door.
You reach the doors to the lower house.
The populace have barricaded themselves inside,
and a young, nervous-looking doorkeeper is standing guard.
Sorry, gentlemen, I can't let you in there.
I'm afraid we're not asking.
Just then, your colleague takes a sledgehammer to the door.
Whoa, whoa, whoa, what are you doing?
Taking back this government for the people of Kansas.
I told you all to stand back.
Stop that now or I'll be forced to shoot.
The guard is stricken with terror. You almost feel bad for him.
You step forward, your face just inches from his.
Kid, we're about to take control of the government.
Whose side do you want to be on once we're the ones in charge?
A piece of the door falls to the floor.
The guard's eyes widen and he lowers his rifle in defeat.
With one last blow of a sledgehammer,
the door is broken. You can see the populace crowded together inside. They start to rush towards you, but stop in their tracks once they see they're outnumbered. You turn to your colleagues.
Gentlemen, our chamber. You smile, feeling that after a week's long standoff, victory is finally in sight.
We hope you've delivered the final blow to this populist insurgency.
On February 15, 1893, Republican Speaker of the House George L. Douglas marched Republican
representatives to take back the Kansas State Legislature. They easily swept aside the
guards. With a few swings of a sledgehammer, they broke down the house doors and streamed into the
chamber. They drove the populace out, but tensions remained high. Both sides expected a shootout.
Late that evening, the populace governor called out local militias, but their units were mostly
entirely Republican, and they refused to obey orders. 48 hours later, the governor
negotiated a truce with Speaker Douglas. They agreed to let the state Supreme Court confirm the
election results. A week later, the court ruled in favor of the Republicans two to one. Despite their
loss of the Kansas House majority, the populace continued to thrive, though, in several western
states. Their ideas gained currency, too, on the national stage,
and soon, a nationwide economic crisis would heighten farmer and worker discontent,
widening the appeal of the populist agenda.
When President Grover Cleveland was inaugurated in March 1893, the economy was on the brink of
collapse. That spring, two of the country's largest employers,
the Pennsylvania and Reading Railroad and the National Cordage Company, went under. Investors
panicked and called in their loans. Within six months, 8,000 businesses and 360 banks closed
their door. Within a year, one-fifth of the workplace was unemployed, and jobless men were
wandering from town to town in search of
work. The Panic of 1893 triggered a four-year depression, the worst of the 19th century.
This economic upheaval would soon lead to an explosive labor conflict centered just south
of Chicago in Pullman, Illinois. Pullman was a model company town founded by the Pullman Palace
Car Company, a major manufacturer of luxury railway
cars. Workers there lived in neat brick houses with manicured lawns. They had gas connections
and indoor plumbing, and the wide paved streets were lined with elm trees and maples. But all
these amenities came with a trade-off. Pullman exercised near total control over its employees'
lives. The company banned independent newspapers, public speeches, and town meetings. Public officials were not elected, but appointed
by the company, and inspectors regularly barged into workers' homes. As one visiting journalist
described it, in Pullman, the corporation is everything and everywhere. Employees resented
the high rents, the town ban on liquor, and living under the constant surveillance of Pullman officials.
For years, tensions simmered below Pullman's picture-perfect surface.
Then, the Depression hit the Pullman Company hard, shattering its image.
In late 1893, owner George Pullman laid off 3,000 men and women
and cut wages by 25%.
But he refused to reduce rents or utility bills in the company town.
By spring, workers had had enough. In May 1894, they went on strike. Their uprising would draw in thousands of workers,
paralyzing rail traffic all the way to California and sparking one of the most notorious labor
conflicts in American history. Soon, railway workers would be locked in a fierce battle
against the full might of the U.S. government.
The federal authorities would take unprecedented action, forever changing the fate of organized labor.
Are you in trouble with the law?
Need a lawyer who will fight like hell to keep you out of jail?
We defend and we fight just like you'd want your own children defended.
Whether you're facing a drug charge, caught up on a murder rap, accused of committing
war crimes, look no further than Paul Bergeron.
All the big guys go to Bergeron because he gets everybody off.
You name it, Paul can do it.
Need to launder some money?
Broker a deal with a drug cartel?
Take out a witness?
From Wondery, the makers of Dr. Death and Over My Dead Body,
comes a new series about a lawyer who broke all the rules.
Isn't it funny how witnesses disappear or how evidence doesn't show up
or somebody doesn't testify correctly?
In order to win at all costs.
If Paul asked you to do something, it wasn't a request.
It was an order.
I'm your host, Brandon James Jenkins.
Follow Criminal Attorney on the Wondery app or wherever you get your podcasts. You can listen to Criminal
Attorney early and ad-free right now by joining Wondery Plus in the Wondery app or on Apple
Podcasts. Now streaming. Welcome to Buy It Now, the show where aspiring entrepreneurs get the
opportunity of a lifetime. I wouldn't be chasing it if I didn't believe
that the world needs this product.
In each episode, the entrepreneurs get 90 seconds
to pitch to an audience of potential customers.
This is match point, baby.
If the audience liked the product,
they'd pitch them in front of our panel of experts,
Gwyneth Paltrow, Anthony Anderson, Tabitha Brown,
Tony Hawk, Christian Siriano.
These panelists are looking for entrepreneurs whose ideas best fit the criteria of the four P's.
Pitch, product, popularity, and problem-solving ability.
I'm going to give you a yes. I want to see it.
If our panelists like the product, it goes into the Amazon Buy It Now store.
You are the embodiment of what an American entrepreneur is.
Oh, my God.
Are we excited for this moment?
Ah! I cannot believe it.
Woo!
Buy it now.
Stream free on Freeview and Prime Video.
On May 11, 1894, amid falling wages, workers at the Pullman Palace Car Company laid down their tools in order to stand up to the power of their employer.
But they knew they needed more leverage.
To increase the pressure on Pullman, the strikers hoped to enlist the help of the American Railway Union, or ARU, and its charismatic leader, Eugene Debs. Born in Indiana to German immigrant parents, Debs left school at
age 14 and found a job scraping paint and grease off trains for 50 cents a day. As an adult, he
became a passionate and magnetic speaker, and he quickly rose through the ranks of his local
railroad union. In 1893, Debs founded the ARU to bring together separate unions for train engineers,
conductors, and firemen into a single organization.
It soon boasted 150,000 members.
The Pullman workers had been on strike for a month when the ARU held its first official national convention in Chicago.
On June 12, Debs captivated the 400 delegates with a stirring call to action, urging,
the forces of labor must unite.
Only when working men enjoyed the fruits of their
labor, he argued, would the country be truly free. At the convention, the Pullman strike was the main
topic of discussion. The ARU delegates debated whether to take the strike to the next level
by launching a national boycott of Pullman cars. But Debs was hesitant. He knew that federal courts
would not be on their side and that the company would have an easy time finding strikebreakers in a time of soaring unemployment.
But Pullman workers attended the convention, too, and they were determined to convince the ARU to join their fight.
Imagine it's June 1894, and you're at the first national convention of the American Railway Union in Chicago.
Before you went on strike, it was your job to sew the luxurious curtains,
carpeting, and upholstery for Pullman sleeper cars. You're here in Chicago on a mission,
to give a voice to the other girls you work alongside and build support for your strike.
You spot an older man sitting at a table by himself. You saw him speaking with some of the ARU leaders earlier,
so you figure he might be important.
Your heart is beating in your chest as you walk over to approach him.
Hello, sir. Is this seat taken?
No, no. Have a seat, miss.
He sizes you up and you can feel your cheeks grow red,
but you push past your fear.
Sir, I suppose you've heard all about what's happening in Pullman.
Yes, of course.
The greed of George Pullman, not lowering those rents just as he cuts wages.
You feel your spirits lift.
So then you support the boycott of Pullman cars?
Well, I don't know about that.
The workers are right to strike, of course, but the ARU is still brand new.
Seems risky to me.
Your smile falters.
Maybe this won't be so easy after all. But isn't that what a union is all
about? Facing risk together? I'm asking you to join us Pullman workers. The other girls and I
have seen our wages cut again and again. We're not just fighting for ourselves. We're fighting
for workers everywhere. It's just a bad time to go on a strike with a downturn. The railroads
will have an easy time finding scabs.
The delegate stands and begins gathering his things.
I'm sorry, miss. I have a meeting to get to.
You're running out of time.
If you can just make him understand what's at stake.
Sir, do you have any children?
Why, yes, I have a daughter.
She's probably about your age.
Sir, after my father died,
I had to take on responsibility for all the back rent he owed the company.
Every paycheck, I put all my wages, all nine or ten dollars, into rent on the company house.
But it was still not enough. He frowns. I'm sorry to hear about your father. Thank you. But you see,
joining this union has given me hope when I felt that all was lost. That hope led me here today.
So please, don't turn your back on us.
If you're not mistaken,
you think you see a glimmer in the man's eyes.
I really must go, Miss, Miss Curtis, Miss Curtis.
But I'm going to think about what you said.
You watch him walk away,
just hoping you've done your small part to help the girls back in Pullman,
to help workers everywhere.
At the ARU convention, 19-year-old Pullman worker Jenny Curtis delivered a passionate
speech imploring the delegates to support the strike.
She called Pullman, both the man and the town, an ulcer on the body politic.
She cried out,
The dance of skeletons bathed in human tears goes on, and it will go on, brothers, forever, She cried out, Curtis's words captivated the convention.
The delegates became convinced they needed to take action.
On June 21st, the ARU voted to back the strike.
They agreed to refuse to handle trains carrying Pullman cars.
The backing of the ARU was critical. back the strike. They agreed to refuse to handle trains carrying Pullman cars.
The backing of the ARU was critical. Within days, roughly 125,000 rail workers joined the boycott,
which soon spread to 27 states and territories. Rail traffic from Ohio to California ground to a halt. This strike, then, was more than just a challenge to the Pullman Company.
The nation's largest industry was under threat, and with shipping paralyzed, cities faced food and fuel shortages. The U.S.
government prepared to intervene, and it was firmly on the side of the railroads.
Richard Olney was President Cleveland's Attorney General. But before he ran the Justice Department,
Olney had made his fortune as a lawyer for railroad companies. The focal point of the
conflict was Chicago, America's largest railroad hub. As the strike there advanced, Olney emerged
as a powerful ally to the rail executives. On July 2nd, Olney got a federal judge in Chicago
to issue a blanket injunction declaring the ARU boycott illegal. This legal move meant that the
strikers were now breaking federal law.
Olney authorized the railroads to hire and arm thousands of men to confront the strikers.
The majority were ex-convicts and drunks, and Olney made them agents of the federal government.
But he feared it wouldn't be enough, and so he urged President Cleveland to dispatch federal
troops to Chicago on the grounds that the strikers were threatening the delivery of mail.
This was in spite of the fact that the strikers had carefully avoided halting mail traffic.
President Cleveland agreed, declaring,
if it takes the entire Army and Navy to deliver a postcard in Chicago, that card will be delivered.
ARU leader Eugene Debs urged nonviolence, but major newspapers branded him a mad dictator bent on anarchy.
The New York Times called him an enemy of the human race.
But Debs warned that it was the arrival of federal troops that would trigger bloodshed,
saying the first shot fire by the regular soldiers at the mobs here will be the signal for a civil war.
Despite his prediction, on the 4th of July,
the U.S. Army marched on Chicago. The troops joined police and state militia to create a
combined military force of 14,000 men. The Army's arrival did add fuel to the flame.
The conflict spiraled out of control, and the ARU and DEBs were unable to rein in the violence.
Mobs of men, few of whom were strikers or railroad workers, filled the streets.
They tipped over rail cars, threw bricks at windows, and set buildings ablaze.
The troops responded with bayonets and gunfire.
On July 7, soldiers fired into the crowds, killing four protesters.
President Cleveland announced that all rioters would be declared public enemies.
After six days of rioting and violent clashes, the troops crushed the strike.
Thirteen protesters were killed, and more than 50 were wounded.
Eugene Debs was soon sentenced to six months in prison
for defying the federal injunction against the strike.
Support for the boycott collapsed,
and the railroads blacklisted thousands of workers for participating.
That summer in Chicago was the first time the federal government had used an injunction
to break a strike.
The move effectively made striking illegal, denying workers one of the most powerful weapons
in their arsenal.
Over the next few years, the courts would apply similar injunctions to quash strikes.
Other court decisions outlawed limits on work hours and gutted the government's power
to regulate monopolies.
America's workers were enraged to see that time and time again, the power of the state came down on the side of big business to brutal ends. Still, working people's daring fight for decent wages and
better conditions would have a lasting legacy. After he was jailed, Eugene Debs affirmed,
no strike has ever been lost. For Debs, defeats were only temporary.
What really mattered was that workers were joining together and asserting their power.
In the 20th century, the labor movement would gain new momentum,
and one day, basic worker protections would be enshrined in law.
But in the 1890s, labor unrest was not the only trouble confronting President Cleveland.
A depression was ravaging the economy and sparking fierce political turmoil.
The government gold reserves had dropped to dangerously low levels.
Millions of Americans were out of work.
And across the country, armies of unemployed workers started to march on Washington.
Next on American History Tellers,
the panic of 1893 sparked a bitter debate over the gold standard,
and President Cleveland turns to Finance King J.P. Morgan for help.
And in the emotionally charged election of 1896,
populist discontent finds a new standard-bearer in the reformer William Jennings Bryan.
From Wondery, this is Episode 5 of The Gilded Age for American History
Tellers. American History Tellers is hosted, edited, and produced by me, Lindsey Graham for
Airship. Audio editing by Molly Bach. Sound design by Derek Behrens. This episode is written by Ellie
Stanton, edited by Dorian
Marina. Our executive producers are Jenny Lauer Beckman and Marshall Louis, created by Hernán
López for Wondery. If you like American History Tellers, you can binge all episodes early and
ad-free right now by joining Wondery Plus in the Wondery app or on Apple
Podcasts. Prime members can listen ad-free on Amazon Music. And before you go, tell us about
yourself by filling out a short survey at wondery.com slash survey.