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THE 



Socialist Almanac 



AND- 



TREASURY OF FACTS. 



6iSaqxc>SS;g) 






^ 







PREPARED BY 

LuciEN Sanial 

FOR THE 

Socialist Labor Party of the United States. 



SUMMARY OF CONTENTS: 

PART I. (Historical) — Socialism in Germany, Italy, Spain, Belgium, Austria and 
Poland. 

PART II. (Statistical)— Development of Capitalism and Distribution of Wealth in 
the United States. The Classes and the Class Struggle. The Trusts. 
Progress of Bankruptcy. Agriculture. Manufactures. Mining. Rail- 
roads. Finance. Strikes and Lockouts. Wages and Profits. Election 
Statistics of the S. L. P., etc., etc. 



New York, 1898. 



/ • /' 









PREFACE. 



This first number of the Socialist Almanach is issued in accordance with 
a decision of the national convention of the Socialist Labor party, held at 
New York in July, 1896. It is the work of Comrade Lucien Sanial, to 
whom the task of preparing it was assigned by the National Executive 
Committee. 

A large portion of it is historical and mainly consists of five monographs 
on Germany, Austria, Italy, Spain and Belgium, wherein is presented a com- 
prehensive picture of militant Socialism in those countries from its incipiency 
to the present day. As it is intended to make this Almanach a periodical 
publication, not only the Socialist movement in other countries will be simi- 
larly reviewed but its latest developments everywhere will be duly recorded 
in future numbers. One of our chief objects may thus be attained. For, if 
we can place in the hands of the American people a reliable history of 
International Socialism and keep them fully informed on the facts of its 
irresistible advance, we need not apprehend any serious obstacle from the 
policy of alternate defamation and silence which is more desperately than ever 
resorted to by the capitalist press in its mad fear of the coming Social Re- 
volution. 

In at least one respect the monographs on Italy and Spain are especially in- 
structive. They trace to its origin the long and mortal struggle between Social- 
ism and Anarchism, the latter of which, fathered by the sophist Proudhon and 
brought forth in agony by a middle class financially and morally bankrupt, had 
fastened itself to the international proletariat. They show the gradual widen- 
ing of the chasm between the two, as in the heat of the conflict Anarchism be- 
comes more distractedly rebellious and brutally destructive, while Socialism, 
ever more truly proletarian and revolutionary, gains in educational power and 
constructive spirit. Surely no one who reads those stirring pages can in the 
future plead ignorance if caught in the dishonest act of confounding Socialism 
and Anarchism. 

The second part of this work is largely statistical. It contains a vast 
amount of accurate information, which no one could obtain but at an enormous 
expense of time and labor in tedious researches through official and other 
documents, not readily accessible. Moreover, the dry figures in which the 
phenomena of our economic and social development must of necessity be 
expressed ha'^e been supplemented by explanations and comments; so that 
their true meaning may not be distorted by the usual methods of capitalistic 
sophistry or mutilation. When the conclusions reached were the result of 
original calculations or investigations, great care was also taken to provide 
against possible contradiction and petty questioning by giving in detail the 
process employed and all the data of importance. 



It is, therefore, confidently hoped that this publication, incomplete as it 
still is, will already be esteemed a valuable addition to the small stock of 
sound American literature on social economy. It certainly contains in abun- 
dance materials of the kind required for Socialist propaganda. On certain 
features of capitalistic evolution in the United States, much new light has 
been cast. The forced growth of the middle class coincident with its rapid 
deterioration; the increase of bankruptcy accompanied by a still more sug- 
gestive enlargement in the amount of "failure to succeed;*' the actual share 
of labor in its product; the widening contrast between the waste of wealth 
and the accumulation of capital; the insignificant ratio that the total value 
of machinery bears to the annual value of production; the relative strength, 
numerical and economic, of the classes into which capitalism has divided 
the population; the impending revolution in agriculture — a greater revolu- 
tion, probably, than we have yet seen — plainly forecast by a preliminary 
decline in such fundamental lines of production as the cereals and farm 
animals; the meaning of this decline in relation to the standard of living, etc.; 
all these are subjects to which very little serious consideration, and in some 
cases no consideration whatever, had yet been given. They were earnestly 
taken up for the purpose of this Almanach, and the facts elicited are of such 
portent that not only* here but abroad, not only among the proletarian 
masses but in circles beyond, they must command the attention of thinking 
people, regardless of their sympathies or interests. 

THE NATIONAL EXECUTIVE COMMITTEE, 
SOQALIST LABOR PARTY. 




SOCIALISM IN GERMANY 



For the past thirty years the Socialist movement has so deeply affected the 
intellectual, political and economic life of the German people that a full record 
of the events connected with its progress in Germany would in itself be an al- 
most complete history of that country during that period. There is no room 
here for a work of such magnitude, and in the presentation of the subject before 
UB we must confine ourselves to the statement of a comparatively few facts, 
deemed the most important. Yet, in justice to some bold pioneers who, ever 
so Utopian in their constructive schemes, should not be forgotten, we may prop- 
erly begin with a brief mention of the earlier German "Communists," as the> 
usually styled themselves, or "Socialists," as we now term them. 

There are in the works of B^chte, as early as 1793, utterances plainly So- 
cialistic. In that* year, commenting upon the French Revolution, which had 
then reached its most critical period, this eminent German philosopher said*. 
"The only legitimate title to property is labor. He who will not work has no 
falid claims to the means of life. He should not be allowed to sustain himself 
in idleness by exploiting the productive powers of another." Again, in 1796, 
he wrote: "Society owes to all the means to labor and all must labor to live.'* 
He emphatically declared that no property right should be recognized or re- 
spected which enabled the idler to hold the industrious in his dependence; for 
"the social contract was then violated in its fundamental principle." Later, he 
attempted to outline a new social order, founded on "equal rights" and "associ- 
ation," so as to insure distributive justice and "the largest possible product for 
the least possible effort." "I cannot," he said, "consider as permanent the 
present state of society. * * * I see in it a mere transitory condition, 
through which we must pass in order to reach a higher plane of human exist- 
ence." Confidently watching the progress of science, despite the ill use that 
was made of it, he clearly foresaw that the day must come when, master of 
nature, man would no longer submit to the despotism of his fellow man. 

But those were days in which utterances of this sort necessarily fell dead 
upon the public ear; and many more days had to pass away before any such 
views could become popular or even begin to excite interest. The French in- 
vasions; the concessions opportunely made to the Prussian peasantry after the 
battle of Jena; the Liberation Wars, and lastly, the fall of Napoleon, which, in- 
stead of serving the cause of freedom was immediately followed throughout Eu- 
rope by an era of violent reaction and absolute despotism, left no room in the 
public mind for questions that were not of a purely political character. More- 
over, the modern system of industry — the factory system— ;did not yet exist in 
Germany; and so long as a deep economic change had not occurred or was not 
visibly impending in the traditional conditions of the great artisan class of 
that country, the practical attention of that class could not be diverted from 
its ordinary channels by considerations which it would naturally be inclined 
to dismiss as speculative and Utopian. 

Political liberty — the freedom of the press, of speech, of meeting, of associ- 



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— 7 — 

Thousand Years* Kingdom," from the pen of another wage worker, a brush- 
maker, named Dietseh. 

The frequent reports of proletarian revolts in various towns of France 
and of Chartist riots in England were also the cause of much animated discus- 
sion in the industrial centers of Germany. Moreover, by this time a number of 
the German exiles residing in Paris, chiefly belonging to the working class, had 
resolutely entered the social revolutionary movement, secretly organized into a 
"League of the Just." Their clubs participated in the insurrection of 1839, and 
among those who fell wounded by the side of the French Communist leader, 
Barbds, was the German shoemaker Austen; a suggestive occurrence, which 
then was commented upon with "patriotic" indignation by the French middle 
class and its prosecuting attorneys. It was, indeed, a first notice of inter- 
national proletarian solidarity served upon that class, not only in France but 
in all countries. 

And now appeared another wage-worker, a journeyman tailor, whose works 
and activity were for several years an important factor in the development of 
communistic ideas among the working people of Germany. His name was 
Wilhelm Weitling, his birthplace Leipzig. He had been a member of the 
League of the Just, and was well acquainted with the literary productions of 
the various schools, French and English, which divided the Utopians of his 
day. His own plan of social reorganization, though containing many original 
and valuable ideas, was in its main features a combination of the St. Simonian, 
Fourierist and Owenist systems. His first work, "Humanity: What It is; What 
It Must Be," was chiefiy critical, but brimfull of lofty sentiments. His second 
and more important one, published in 1842, was entitled: "Guarantees of Har- 
mony and Liberty." His disciples, poor and self-sacrificing workmen, who 
lost no opportunity of spreading the views which he had verbally impressed 
upon them, and who constantly felt the need of printed literature in their work 
of propaganda, had told him: "Write for us, we shall work for you." By ex- 
treme frugality Weitling made himself a very light burden upon them, and all 
were morally rewarded beyond expectation by the great success of his books.* 

Exiled from Germany, expelled from France, Weitling had sought refuge 
in Switzerland. Other German agitators, similarly persecuted, had preceded 
him there, and he soon found himself a leading figure among them. As the 
number of their converts among the Swiss workingmen was steadily increasing, 
the local authorities took umbrage at their activity, and the cantonal govern- 
ments of Bern, Zurich and Geneva successively expelled Weitling. Finally, the 
federal government ordered an inquiry into the threatening development of 
German Communism in Switzerland. The federal councillor Bluntchli, who 
made the official report, inserted therein a number of manuscripts that had 
been seized by the police at Weitling's residence. Owing to its official char- 
acter, this report was freely circulated in Germany by the Communists them- 
selves, who found it a most convenient and effective instrument of propaganda. 



* In Weitling's ideal society, all labor is divided into two classes, namely: The labor 
required to supply the primary needs of man— food, clothing, shelter and education; and 
the labor applied to the production of luxuries. Of the necessary labor everyone who is 
able must contribute his share; those who desire to enjoy luxuries must earn the means by 
special labor. For scientists, inventors, physicians, etc., special provisions are made. 
Weitling does not propose experiments on a small scale. The change must be accomplished 
by the laboring class taking possession of the government. A dictator to be appointed to 
manage afTairs until the new social order is fully established."— "Socialism in G^many," 
by Hugo Vogt, in the Workmen's Advocate, March, 1890. 



— 8 — 

None of the literature previously at their command had done them such good 
service. 

The increasing persecution to which the most active German Communists 
were subjected in their own country, and the petty annoyances which awaited 
in Switzerland those who sought shelter there, drove a number of them to other 
lands. Some went to Belgium, others to London, and a few, among whom was 
Hermann Kriege, emigrated to America. Weitling himself finally made New 
York his home, and died there in 1871. He had not, at first, welcomed as de- 
sirable allies in the class struggle those German philosophers who (like Rod- 
bertus, Ch. Griin, etc.), awakened from their transcendental reveries by the 
steady tramp of the proletariat, turned their attention to the social question. 
The past indifference of their tribe to the sufferings and destiny of his own 
class, the assumption of superior wisdom which had been a characteristic of 
their profession, and the readiness with which men of little learning but 
naturally correct judgment could be confused and bamboozled by word-mong- 
ers and equivocators, did not commend to his proletarian mind these new and 
as yet untried volunteers from the aristocracy of intellect. But by the clear 
notes of Karl Marx's philosophy he soon recognized that a man had come from 
that suspicious quarter who was truly a friend as well as a superior intellect. 
.Long before his death, Weitling had accepted that philosophy and contributed 
in New York to the building up of the International Workingmen's Associa- 
tion. 

Our object in these pages is not to trace step by step the progress of eco- 
nomic science, but, as already stated, to record the chief events in the march 
of militant Socialism. That the former had upon the latter a direct influence, 
is a proposition suflaciently evident to require no demonstration. But a sim- 
ultaneous review of both, or a consideration of the relative merits of the men 
who, as economists, contributed in various degrees to the attainment of sound 
doctrine, however instructive or interesting, would carry us far beyond the 
limits of our undertaking. For this reason we can only make a brief mention 
of such writers as Winkelblech and Rodbertus, whose titles to scientific recog- 
iiition are fully established, but who never took an active part in the proletarian 
movement. 

Professor Winkelblech, of the Higher Industrial College of Cassel, is 
better known under his assumed name of Karl Mario. In the preface to his 
History and Critique of Economic Systems he narrates that in 1838, traveling 
in Norway, he met a German workingman who so vividly described to him the 
sufferings of the laboring population that he was led to ask himself why those 
things were, and whether they needed be. "Hitherto, in visiting the seats of in- 
dustry, he had, as he says, allowed machines to monopolize his attention and 
never thought of men; he had been taken up with the products of human labor 
and overlooked the laborers; hence he had no idea of the misery which under- 
lay our vaunted civilization. The burning words of this plain workman had 
caused him to fully realize the vanity of his own so-called science, and in a 
few moments he had strongly resolved to investigate the sufferings of our race, 
their causes and remedies." Once upon this track he could readily, as the St. 
Simonians and the Fourierists had done before him, criticize the capitalistic 
order and show that the evils of society were caused by its institutions. The 
remedy was a matter of far greater difficulty. His suggestions in this respect 
were not on a level with his denunciatidns. He had evidently read Malthus, 
and been impressed with the ghost of over-population. Nor did he compre- 



— 9 — 

hend the pitiless nature of the class struggle, despite his historic understand- 
ing of the evolution of the proletariat. He fondly believed that by the side of a 
system founded on private property, and, therefore, inevitably productive of 
class rule and class absorption, another could be established by the public 
powers — that is, by the ruling class itself— founded on collective property and 
industrial co-operation, for the benefit of the disinherited and expropriated. In 
other words, he believed that capitalism could be induced to give back with 
one hand what it took with the other; to make free men of those whose en- 
slavement was necessary to its existence; to commit hari-kari for the sake of 
humanity. 

Rodbertus was a man of great intellectual powers, and some anti-social- 
ists, recognizing that fact, have for their own obvious purposes made them- 
selves his special admirers in an attempt to dim the glory of Karl Marx by 
raising a question of priority between the two writers concerning the surplus- 
value theory. In his preface to the second volume of Capital, Frederick 
Engels has fully answered the arguments produced in favor of Rodbertus' 
claim to precedence, and we can do no better than to refer the student to the 
preface in question. He showed that for any new and correct idea which Marx 
had found in Rodbertus, or for that matter in any of his predecessors, Marx 
had given due credit; that the existence of that part of the value of the product 
which we now call surplus-value was established long before Marx, and in- 
deed long before Rodbertus, but that "no one got any further;" that the in- 
vestigations of Marx led him to take up a position **in direct opposition to all 
his predecessors;" that " by distinguishing between constant and variable cap- 
ital he succeeded in exposing and thus explaining the real process of formation 
of surplus-value in all its details, which none of his predecessors had done"; 
that he also proved the existence of a difference in capital itself, "with which 
Rodbertus was no more able than the bourgeois economists to do anything, 
though it furnishes the key to the solution of the most complicated economic 
problems;" and that "on the basis of surplus value he developed the first 
rational theory of wages which we have had, and for the first time gave the 
characteristics of a history of capitalist accumulation and a representation of 
its historical tendency." 

In our candid opinion the controversy is fully settled. Its determination 
one way or the other was never, in fact, of the least importance to the Socialist 
movement. Of course, as a thorough scientist, Marx availed himself of all the 
knowledge of his day, correcting the errors of his predecessors and using for 
the purpose of further discovery all the truths which they had established. In- 
somuch as it may be of interest to know how much further he went than they 
had gone, it may safely be said that he went immensely further, and that he 
distanced Rodbertus as much in the economic field as in the field of practical 
organization, or militant work, which the comfortably situated theorist of Jaget- 
zow and occasional supporter of Bismarck never entered. Certainly, if the 
depth of a man's knowledge were to be measured by its infiuence upon his 
actions, the inevitable conclusion concerning Rodbertus, granting his honesty, 
would be that his understanding of the social question was very limited. That 
he rejected Lassalle's request for his co-operation in the organization of the 
working class would not in itself prove anything against Rodbertus if his ob- 
jection had simply been that he had no confidence in the particular scheme pro- 
posed. But what should we think to-day of a so-called "scientific Socialist" 
who would declare, as he did on that occasion, that "he could tolerate no agita- 



— lo- 
tion which would excite the working class against the existing government?" 

For the reasons already stated, no attempt can be made here to review, 
even briefly, the labors of Marx as a critical philosopher and social revolution- 
ist, applying to the practical affairs of the class struggle, with mathematical ac- 
curacy, his scientific theory of human progress. His life has not yet been 
written, and until a competent historian, capable of doing full justice to his 
subject, undertakes to fill this deficiency, we must refer the inquirer to Marx's 
own works, supplemented by such biographical sketches as have from time to 
time appeared over the signatures of persons near to him by relationship or as- 
sociation.* Of his infiuence on modern thought, constantly growing as the 
years roll by, and of the momentum he imparted to Socialism during his life- 
time, any one acquainted, even superficially, with the Socialist movement, is 
fully aware. Having so far digressed from our chief object in broadly sur- 
veying the ground covered by his predecessors, we may now take up the thread 
of events at the time of his appearance. 

After the failure of the Paris insurrection led by the Communist BarbSs in 
1839, the headquarters of the League of the Just were transferred to London. 
Here its leaders met Frederick Engels in 1843, the year in which his valuable 
work on the "Condition of the Working Class in England" was published. 

"Frederick Engels," says Hugo Vogt in the article on German Socialism 
previously quoted in a footnote, "had lived for some time in Manchester. There 
he studied the actual workings of capitalism, which was already well developed 
in England. His studies, probably stimulated by the Chartist agitation and 
largely aided by his Hegelian philosophic training, led him to a new theory of 
history. He found that the economic conditions are the controlling factors of 
history — modern history at least; that from them all class divisions spring, and 
that class divisions, where they have been fully worked out by the industrial 
development, lie at the bottom of all political struggles and determine the 
course of political history. 

"Karl Marx had at about the same time reached similar conclusions. When 
the two men met in Paris in 1844 and found that they held substantially the 
same views, they jointly developed them into a comprehensive system of materi- 
alistic history. From this standpoint they began to see the Communist move- 
ments in a new light French and German Communism and English Chartism 
were to them no longer casual phenomena, that would not have been but for 
the agitation of their founders and leaders; these movements appeared now as 
the first self -emancipating efforts of the modern proletariat, the oppressed wage 
class, in its necessary struggle with the capitalist class. With the victory of 
the proletariat the whole people will come into possession of economic and po- 
litical power, and all class divisions will disappear. While the struggle will 
thus naturally result in the reconstruction of society on a Socialist basis, the 
way to promote the process is not by hatching out a most perfect plan of the 
ideal society, but by finding the true nature, the existing conditions and the 
inevitable tendencies of this historic struggle. 

"Marx and Elngels gradually succeeded in impressing their views upon the 
leaders of the League of the Just, which, at a convention held in the summer 
of 1847, was reorganized under the new name of 'League of the Communists/ 



• See "Karl Marx," by Eleanor Marx, reprinted from "Progress" (1883) In THE PEOPLE 
of August 8, 1897; also, "Socialism from Utopia to Science," by Frederick Engels, and 
various references In other works of the same author to his co-dperatlon with Marx. 



— 11 — 

and adopted in its platform the above outlined position. In the first article ot 
that platform it was declared to be the object of the League to bring about the 
downfall of the bourgeoisie, to place the proletariat into power, to supersede 
the old bourgeois social order based on class antagonisms by the establishment 
of a new society without classes and without private property.' At a second 
congress, held towards the close of the same year, the League instructed Marx 
and Engels to draw up a declaration of principles. From their pen issued in 
the beginning of 1848, a few weeks before the February revolution, the now 
famous 'Communist Manifesto.' 

"From 1848 to 1852 the Communist League exercised a wide-reaching in- 
fluence in the revolutionary movement of Germany. It not only had affiliated 
branches in all parts of the country, but indirectly controlled most of the num- 
erous workingmen's, peasants' and turners' organizations that had sprung up 
and whose leaders had. everywhere been made members of the League. They 
took a most active part in the Revolution of 1848, and were indeed the most 
determined element in it. Although recognizing the middle class character of 
it, they went into it because it was in the interest of the proletariat 
as well as of the bourgeoisie to wipe out the feudal Institutions 
and also in order to use the popular movement for the propagation ot 
their ideas. When the Revolution was vanquished and reaction set in, the com- 
munists were the first and most numerous victims of persecution. Their clubs 
and all the organizations under their control disbanded. The League was re- 
organized on a secret basis but could not withstand the reaction, and in 1853 it 
had disappeared entirely. 

"Then followed several years ef deep apathy among the German work- 
ing people. In spite of the reaction capitalism was securely establishing itself 
on the industrial field. There was an enormous activity everywhere. Capital 
was building railroads, factories, warehouses, amassing wealth and agglomerat- 
ing proletarians in great centers, thus preparing the ground and concentrating 
the forces for a new labor movement. 

"Having become powerful industrially and socially the bourgeoisie began to 
again assert itself politically. The Progressist party, representing that class, 
engaged in a struggle for power with the Government party, representing the 
landed aristocracy. In order to strengthen themselves and at the same time 
prevent an independent or hostile organization of the laboring class, the Pro- 
gressists undertook to organize the wage working proletariat under their own 
leadership. Schultze-Delitzsch, the originator of the scheme, was entrusted 
with the management of it, and he began in 1858 to form workingmen's so- 
cieties of various kinds in all parts of the country. There were benefit so- 
cieties, credit supply, and even co-operative manufacturing societies; but the 
most numerous and important were the educational societies. The object of 
the latter was to 'educate' workingmen in general matters of science, art. in- 
vention, and last, but not least, in the great principles of the Progressist party, 
to which they were taught it was their first duty to become devotedly attached. 
In the course of time men with Socialist ideas managed to obtain membership 
in some of these clubs. In 1862 the workingmen's club of Leipzig had among 
its members two Communists of the Weitling school, Julius Vahlteich and 
William FYitsche. When it decided to call a convention of workingmen's so- 
cieties it was on the suggestion of Vahlteich that they applied to Ferdinand 
Lassalle for advice as to the best programme for such a convention, and as to 
the best means of ameliorating the condition of the working class. 



— 12 — 

"Lassalle was born at Breslau in 1825. He had become acquainted with the 
ideas of Marx and Engels in 1848. He had then and since been occasionally in 
personal communication with them and had studied their writings, notably 
E2ngels' "Condition of the Working Class in England" and Marx's "Critical Re- 
view of Political Economy," the latter of which was published in 1859. He had 
taken an active part in the Revolution of 1848 and 1849, but during the reaction- 
ary period he withdrew from all political movements and devoted himself to 
literary pursuits. He had established a reputation as a man of great learning 
and talent by his work on the "Philosophy of Heraclitos" (1859) and his "System 
of Acquired Rights" (1860). In 1859 he had also published a pamphlet on "The 
Italian War and the Mission of Prussia," in which he demanded in the name of 
democracy that Prussia establish the unity of Germany by forcibly taking the 
German provinces of Austria and annexing the Holstein provinces of Denmark. 
The Progressist party had gradually watered its platform and among the dem- 
ocratic demands which it had abandoned was this most essential of all, Uni- 
versal Suffrage. Such retrogression, and also the weakness displayed by its 
leaders in the conduct of the conflict with the government had convinced Las- 
salle that nothing could be expected from that party towards securing demo- 
cratic institutions — a hope which alone might have warranted an aflaiiation of 
the working class with the Progressist bourgeoisie until that had been accom- 
plished. In 1862 he had opened a fierce campaign against the Progressists by 
several lectures delivered in Berlin, which first attracted general attention to 
him. The echo of his voice had not died away when in the beginning of 1863 
he received the invitation of the Leipzig workingmen's club. 

"He responded by his 'Open Letter,' issued March 1, 1863, in which he 
formulated the programme for the great agitation of the following years. He 
showed the inefficiency of the petty associative schemes of Schultze-Delitzsch 
and pointed out general co-operation, which would do away with the employer 
and his profit, as the only means of amelioration, because it alone could cancel 
the iron law of wages which rendered all palliative reforms nugatory. This 
co-operative system, he said, could be established by organizing and gradually 
extending co-operative industries on a large scale with the financial aid and 
credit of the State. This necessary State help would never be granted to the 
working class by the Progressist or any other bourgeois party. The working 
class must consequently organize as an independent political party, and, first 
of all, strive to secure the franchise, which would enable them to obtain control 
of the legislative powers. He therefore concluded with the recommendation 
that a 'General Society of German Workingmen' be formed, that would concen- 
centrate all its efforts on this one point. Universal Suffrage. 

"In accordance with that recommendation, a society was formed, under that 
name and for that purpose, at a congress of workingmen held at Leipzig on 
May 22, 1863. Lassalle was tendered and accepted the presidency of it. He 
immediately opened an aggressive campaign and soon gained an enthusiastic 
following, especially in the industrial districts on the Rhine, which had been 
the strongholds of the Communist movement in 1848. Lectures, pamphlets^ 
essays, followed each other with extraordinary rapidity, forming together a 
treasure of propagandistic literature, clear, convincing, brilliant, embracing 
his own propositions and the whole range of economic and historic doctrine 
known as German or Marxist Socialism. True, although he created a deep im- 
pression upon the laboring masses throughout Glermany, he did not succeed in 
drawing as many into the organization as he had hoped. But he accomplished 



— 13 — 

a result of the highest importance; he dug the grave of the sham labor reforms 
of the Schultze-Delitzch type. After dealing these humbugologlsts many a 
heavy blow in his public addresses he finished them, so to speak, systematically 
and radically in his 'Bastiat-Schultze/ published in January, 1864. The prestige 
of the Schultze school was broken, and it was only a question of time when 
there would be nothing left of it." 

Lassalle's career as a Socialist agitator was unexampled in brilliancy, but 
short. Involved in a romantic quarrel which had no relation to the labor move- 
ment, he was killed in a duel at Geneva on the 31st of August, 1864. A few 
weeks later (September 28, 1864), the International Association of Workingmen, 
initiated by Marx in 1861, was definitely founded in Liondon. 

In the previous three years Marx had matured all his plans and made 
every possible preparation for the final organization of that international 
movement of the proletariat which he had already attempted to set on foot in 
1847, when he joined the Communist League at Brussels, and with Frederick 
Engels was delegated by that body to write the "Communist Manifesto." Upon 
the identical lines of this celebrated document Marx wrote the brief preamble 
to the rules of the International Association, setting forth its "raison d'etre" as 
follows: 

"Considering: — That the emancipation of the working class must ~ be 
achieved by the working class itself, and therefore involves a class struggle, 
which on the side of the workers is not for class privileges and monopolies, 
but for equal rights and duties and the abolition of all class rule; 

"That the economic subjection of the man of labor to the monopolizer of 
the sources of life and instruments of labor, lies at the root of social misery, 
mental degradation, political dependence and servitude in every form; 

"That the economic emancipation of the working class is therefore the 
great end to which every political movement must be subordinated as a 
means; 

"That all efforts aiming at that great end have hitherto failed from the 
want of solidarity between the manifold divisions of labor in each country, 
and from the absence of a fraternal bond of union between the working 
classes of different countries; 

"That the emancipation of labor is neither a local nor a national, but a 
social problem, involving all countries in which the modern state of society 
exists, and depending for its solution on the practical and theoretical co-oper- 
ation of the most advanced countries; 

"That the present reawakening of the working classes in the most indus-;- 
trial countries of Europe, while it raises new hopes, gives solemn warning 
against a relapse into old errors and calls for a close connection of the now 
separate movements; 

"For these reasons the International Workmen's Association has been 
founded. All its members shall recognize that Truth, Morality, Justice, must 
be the basis of their conduct towards each other and towards all men, regard- 
less of color, creed or nationality. They shall regard it the duty of a man to 
demand the rights of a man and a citizen, not only for himself, but for every 
one who does his duty. No rights without duties; no duties without rights." 

Although theoretically resting on the same economic principles and hav- 
ing the same end in view, the Lassallian movement and the Marxist diverged 
materially in tactics. In the first place the former was purely national, the 
latter was essentially international. Of course a national organization was 



— 14 — 

also required and contemplated by the Marxists, and on the other hand the 
Lassallians had no thought of assigning any geographical limits to the de- 
velopment of Socialism; but the two processes of construction were practically 
the reverse of each other, and for reasons now sufficiently obvious the Marxist 
was the more scientific. Again, the followers of Marx had been taught to ex- 
pect nothing, absolutely nothing, but from the complete triumph of the prole- 
tariat, through which the Social Revolution would at the proper time, and then 
at once, be achieved. Capitalism abolished and Socialism instituted; whereas 
Lassalle had believed, or at any rate professed, that a social transformation 
could be brought about by degrees, more or less slowly, more or less rapidly, 
according as the class-conscious proletariat would be able to assert itself as a 
political force in the direction of public affairs. The Marxist view implied an 
uncompromising attitude under all circumstances, whereas the Lassallian, ever 
so aggressive in principle and so unyielding as to the final aim, left room for 
temporary adjustments between the classes, and for negotiations with the 
ruling powers, that might prove dangerous to the integrity of the movement. 
Lassalle's plan, as publicly given out by him, contemplated a government 
loan of one hundred million thalers ($60,000,000), the proceeds of which were 
to be used for the socialization of some important lines of industry, and the 
interest upon which was to be set aside for the gradual extension of the 
scheme to all the other lines, including, last of all, agriculture. According 
to his own computation it would have taken two centuries to thus achieve 
peacefully the economic emancipation of the laboring class. To be sure, 
neither Lassalle nor his intelligent followers entertained for a moment the 
notion that six generations of men would peacefully be buried before the 
wage system was entirely abolished, or that one pfennig of public money 
would be granted for the purpose in question until the working class had 
taken possession of the public powers. Their utterances concerning their pro- 
posed use of government were always qualified by the statement that they 
referred to a government which was to be remodelled by universal suffrage. 
Tn fact they simply saw in Lasalle's scheme a permissible artifice of diplomacy 
for the more rapid propagation of certain principles, which, once accepted 
by a majority of the. people, would shortly develop a revolutionary spirit 
What they saw, however, their wily enemies could see also and guard against 
with superior cunning; so that it were wiser for proletarian leaders, and more 
honest as well, to waste no time in argument with a naturally unyielding 
and deceitful opponent, but move at once in a straight line to the field of 
battle. Diplomacy is not and never will be a proletarian method. Not by 
parleying with Capitalism or its political agents but by ceaselessly fighting 
both can Socialist principles be propagated and the scattered masses formed 
into a class-conscious body. In the clearer light of experience at our com- 
mand all of us now should plainly see that; for since the days of Lassalle it 
has been repeatedly demonstrated — and nowhere more forcibly than in this 
country — ^that nothing can be gained and much may be lost by the adoption 
of any scheme or policy which obscures ever so little, instead of holding 
prominently to view, the merciless and unalterable character of the class 
struggle. 

Of Lassalle's interviews with Bismarck we need not speak here at length. 
Such intercourse might have proved harmless so long as the party to it on the 
side of the proletariat was a man of Lassalle's intellectual and moral standing, 
enjoying the confidence of the people that he had himself aroused and organ- 



— 15 — 

ized, and sheltered from suspicion by the established purity of his intentions 
and the conceded nobility of his ambition. In some at least of these respects 
no n^an could take his place. Of the overbearing, jealous and incapable Bern- 
hard Becker, who succeeded him for a year as president of the Society, it has 
been justly said that he was "the ass in the lion's skin." C. W. Tolke, who took 
the place of Becker in December, 1865, raised a storm of indignation among the 
Socialists by publicly disclosing his monarchic sympathies and consequently 
resigned the ofllce after holding it a few months only. By this time some 
Lassallian leaders were generally suspected of political dealings repugnant to 
the spirit of the movement. Indeed, very soon after the death of Lassalle there 
was already a strong basis of fact for such suspicions. In his last days ar- 
rangements had been made for the publication of an organ of the Society, en- 
titled "The Social Democrat," with Dr. J. B. von Schweitzer as its editor. The 
paper appeared on January 1, 1865. In its first issue Marx, Engels and Lieb- 
knecht were announced as contributors. But when in February of the same 
year Schweitzer published a leading article indorsing the policy of the Bis- 
marck ministry and professing a narrow Prussian jingoism, these three Inter- 
nationalists withdrew their names by a public declaration. From that time — 
and, as we shall see, for a number of years, — ^the movement was divided; but 
as Internationalism appealed strongly to Socialism, many Lassallians, one by 
one, two by two, entered the ranks of tlie International, whose propaganda 
was conducted with great energy by Liebknecht. 

At that time a large number of the democratic political clubs originally in- 
stituted by the Progressists had seceded from their retrogressive progenitors 
and formed a "People's Party," whose chief strength was in Saxony and South- 
ern Germany. The numerous workingmen's educational societies similarly 
fathered had likewise struck out independently and formed a federation, the 
national committee of which had its seat in Leipzig. Of this national com- 
mittee August Bebel was a member. He was also the leader of the Lieipzig or- 
ganization of the People's Party. Liebknecht, who resided in the same town, 
and who, for the purpose of advancing his views, had become a member of the 
local educational society, succeeded in converting Bebel to International So- 
cialism. Both together then converted the other members of the national com- 
mittee; so that in a short time the whole organization was permeated with 
Socialist ideas. 

In the meanwhile important political events had taken place. The battle 
of Sadowa had been fought, Austria lay prostrate at the feet of Prussia, and a 
North German Confederation had been formed, comprising all the German 
States north of the Main, which were to be represented according to population, 
in a Reichstag (or parliament) elected by universal suffrage. The first Reichs- 
tag was to be a constituent assembly of short duration, and elections for this 
body had to be held in the beginning of 1867. All this was the work of Bis- 
marck, who, in granting universal suffrage, hoped to get the support of the 
working class against the Progressists. It has been alleged that he had an 
understanding with Schweitzer, and that the latter actually pledged to the 
government the support of the German Workingmen's Society. At any rate, 
when election day came, Bismarck stood as the government candidate in Bar- 
men-Elberfeld against Schweitzer and a Progressist. A second ballot became 
necessary between Bismarck and the Progressist, and then, notwithstanding 
the nominal decision of his local organization against supporting either side, 
Schweitzer's vote was transferred to Bismarck, electing him. Thenceforth 



— 16 — 

tlie suspicion clung to Schweitzer that he was an agent of the government, 
and although a few months later he was sufficiently popular in the German 
Workingmen'B Society to be made its president, his influence, which already 
then was no longer as great as it had previously been, continued to decline. 
He resigned the presidency in July, 1871, and was finally expelled from the 
Society in April, 1872. His successor, Wilhelm Hasenclever, was a man of 
conciliatory disposition and sterling integrity, and it was under his administra- 
tion that the Lassallians and the Marxists, in 1875, came to a complete union 
as we shall see later on. 

At the election for the constituent assembly August Bebel was the only 
Socialist elected. He was running as the nominee of the Saxon People's Party 
in the Glauchau-Meerane district of Saxony. But a few months later, when 
elections were held for the first regular North German Reichstag, seven So- 
cialists were returned. Three of them, Bebel, Liebknecht and Schraps, were 
nominees of the Saxon People's party; two, including Schweitzer, belonged to 
the Lassallian faction which had selected him as its president, and two be- 
longed to another Lassallian faction, which had seceded from the German 
Workingmen's Society, and under the lead of an old friend of Lassalle's, 
Countess Hatzfeld, had formed an independent organization. The total vote 
cast for those various candidates was about 30,000. 

The two campaigns of 1867 and the activity of the Socialist deputies within 
and without the Reichstag greatly strengthened the movement In the Federa- 
tion of Elducatlonal Societies the Socialist element had become so strong that 
its central committee, led by Bebel and Liebknecht, submitted to the General 
Assembly of that body, held in Nuremberg in September, 1868, a proposition to 
indorse the platform of the International. At this convention all the factions 
of the labor movement were represented. There were the Schultze-Delitzsch 
men, constituting the purely political wing of the People's party (of which the 
present People's party is the continuation; the Marxist wing of that party 
(Bebel-Liebkecht), and a small number of Lassallians. After a prolonged and 
heated discussion the International programme was indorsed by a large ma- 
jority. The Schultze-Delitzsch minority withdrew, leaving in the hands of the 
most radical Socialist leaders the organization which they had created for the 
express purpose of keeping the workingmen out of Socialism. The Federa- 
tion of Educational Societies had now practically become a branch of the In- 
ternational. 

While thus at work capturing an entire organization, the followers of Marx 
did not relax their efforts to bring the Lassallians over to their views. They 
hoped to break down the pernicious infiuence of Schweitzer and then to effect 
an amalgamation. In March, 1869, Bebel and Liebknecht appeared before the 
convention of the German Workmen's Society, in session at Barmen. They 
argued that in giving itself a president this organization had disregarded a 
fundamental principle of Socialism, and that in vesting him with dictatorial 
powers it had exposed itself to the danger of corruption. Then they directly 
accused Schweitzer of being an agent of the government, and of having, as 
such, fostered in the organization over which he ruled by cunning and intrigue, 
a narrow spirit of Prussian patriotism, contrary to the nature of a true labor 
movement Notwithstanding the vigor of their attack and the eloquence of 
their appeal, the convention expressed its confidence in Schweitzer's integrity 
and good management by a vote of 42 out of 66» fourteen delegates abstaining. 

Nothing daunted, the Marxists called a congress, to which the Lassallians 



— 17 — 

^ere invited, in order to settle differences and consolidate the Socialist 
forces into a party capable of presenting an undivided front to the enemy. 
This congress was held at Eisenach from the 7th to the 9th of August, 1869. 
It was attended by 263 delegates, representing about 300 associations with a 
total membership of 155,486 constituents, distributed over 195 localities in 
Germany, Austria and Switzerland. No agreement, however, could be reached 
with the Lassallians, and the Marxists constituted themselves into a party, 
called the "Social-Democratic Labor party," upon a platform divided into two 
parts, namely: 1 — A declaration of principles, which was substantially and al- 
most literally the same as that of the International Association; 2 — A pro- 
gramme of demands, including universal suffrage, equal, direct and secret; 
the referendum and initiative principle of legislation; the abolition of ' all 
privileges attached to rank, property, birth and creed; the substitution of the 
armed nation for the permanent army; separation of church and state; com- 
pulsory and secular education; free justice, trial by jury, and reform of the 
<jourts with a view to their independence; liberty of the press; freedom of as- 
sociation and combination; the normal work day; limitation of the women's 
and prohibition of the children's labor; abolition of all indirect taxation, and 
the raising of all revenue by a progressive income tax and a tax on inheritance. 
With a view, no doubt, to the ultimate conciliation of the Lassallians, a de- 
mand was added for "government support of benefit societies, and public 
credit for free co-operative associations with democratic guarantees." 

While it lasted, the Franco-German war (which brpke out in the summer of 
1870), by the drafts it made upon the wage-working population, checked the 
movement in that visible part of it which consisted in actual party member- 
ship, but rather quickened and intensified it otherwise by the terrible truths 
thus vividly brought home to the thoughtless minds. Shortly after the battle 
of Sedan — at which the French Emperor, held responsible for the conflict, was 
compelled to surrender his person and his army — the Executive Committee of 
the Social-Democratic (Eisenach) party were arrested and imprisoned for hav- 
ing issued a manifesto to the German workingmen, protesting against the con- 
tinuance of the war. The same position was taken in the Reichstag by Bebel 
and Liebknecht, who voted against any further appropriations; in conse- 
<iuence of which they were also arrested on a charge of treason. They were 
tried together in the early part of 1872. Liebknecht was sent to prison for 
two years and Bebel for two years and nine months. When the Lassallian 
4eputy, Wilhelm Hasenclever, who had likewise opposed the granting of 
money for the prosecution of the war, joined before Paris the regiment of 
which he was a private, the dignity and fortitude with which he endured the 
ill-treatment inflicted upon him by the officers, and the bravery which he 
displayed in the performance of his uncongenial duty, commanded in the end 
general respect and sympathy. 

Immediately after the war, the newly established German Empire had to 
he put in working order by the election of an Imperial Parliament. The pub- 
lic sentiment was then stimulated to a high degree of patriotic enthusiasm and 
loyalty, and the government had no doubt that its persecution of the leading 
Socialists would be universally approved, even by those who had pre- 
viously sided with them at the Wllot box; in other words, it fondly believed 
that Socialism had been killed by the "unpatriotic behavior" of its chief mouth- 
pieces. In capitalistic and official circles little attention, in fact, was bestowed 
upon the movement, because its self-destruction seem.^<i «>aS&5:\^\jiOc^ ^afs?sx«feft^ 



— 18 — 

by the bitter fight in which the two Socialist factions were engaged. In such 
circles it was not then understood that these factions did not allow their 
hostilities to interfere with their agitation against the common enemy; that, 
on the contrary, their antagonism acted rather as a stimulus, spurring on 
each of them to its utmost exertions; and that their very disputes, by causing 
widespread discussion and inquiry among working people, and generally stir- 
ring masses until then passive and motionless, were at that time most effective 
in enlarging the area of propaganda and increasing its energy. 

On election day, therefore, the Socialists sorely disappointed the government 
and greatly astonished the country by casting 101,927 votes for their candi- 
dates, or three times as many as they had cast before the war. This piece of 
proletarian impudence, coming so closely upon the heels of "national glory," 
in violation of all historic precedents, was well nigh intolerable, and Bismarck's 
police was reminded of its duty. The police worked hard; it had all the work 
it could do suppressing meetings, escorting agitators to jail or out of town, and 
otherwise making itself and the government as odious as possible to the work- 
ing people; so that, when the Socialists, three years later, cast 351,670 
votes — or about three and a half times their previous number — ^the astonish- 
ment of the country, of Europe, of the world, and especially of the German gov- 
ernment, increased in geometric ratio. It looked as if the German workingmen, 
with the same firmness they had shown, as dutiful soldiers, in accomplishing 
the political unity of the Fatherland against the French Emperor, had now 
set themselves to the task of accomplishing, as class-conscious men, their own 
emancipation from domestic tyrants. 

At the election of 1871, despite the great increase of the Socialist vote, 
and owing to peculiar circumstances chiefiy arising from the formation of new 
electoral districts, Bebel was the only Socialist elected. But in 1874 nine were 
elected, namely, 3 of the Lassallian and six of the Eisenach wing. Among 
the latter were Bebel and Liebknecht, who were still in prison. 

New means of persecution were resorted to in various parts of the Empire, 
Bismarck giving the example of energetic action under the cover of the law 
when possible, and by prompting the police in its assumptions of arbitrary 
powers when perchance legal tomfoolery was so deficient that it did not 
afford a '^better" method. In Prussia, availing itself of a statute enacted in 
1850, when the reaction had triumphed over the revolutionary movement of 
1848, the royal government dissolved the Lassallian organization, which how- 
ever, managed to survive its official death. The Marxists, of course, were not 
treated with greater consideration, and every occasion was improved to harass 
their agitators and hinder their propaganda. From their press, however, both 
factions derived great strength, and it soon became known that the imperial 
government intended not only to muzzle it, but to destroy it, by demanding 
from the Reichstag a special provision against it in the proposed Imperial 
penal code, that was to be uniformly enforced throughout the Empire. 

The effect of this vigorous "blood and iron policy" was quite unexpected. 
It united the Lassallians and the Marxists. 

This union was effected at a congress, called by mutual agreement, which 
was held at Gotha from the 22d to the 27th of May, 1875, with an attendance 
of 125 delegates representing 25,659 fully qualified members. An executive 
committee was elected, subject in its management of affairs to the super- 
vision of a controlling commission, and in its ruling to the decisions of a 
board of appeals. The hitherto separate organs of the two parties — namely, 



— la- 
the "Social-Democrat" of Berlin, belonging to the Lassallians, and the "Volks- 
staat" of Leipzig, belonging to the Marxists — were amalgamated into one, 
which subsequently was entitled "Vorwarts." 

In its mere wording the Gotha platform differed from the Eisenach pro- 
gramme just enough to satisfy men who, thinking exactly alike, desired to put 
an end to personal differences of long standing by "mutual concessions." In 
everything else the two documents were absolutely the same. There had no 
doubt been a time when the Lassallians earnestly upheld their founder's scheme 
of State help in the establishment of co-operative production. But, knowing 
that any belief in its practicability would gradually become weaker in the 
light of economic and political developments, the Marxists themselves had not 
considered it a bar to union; and, as we have already stated, they had con- 
ceded to that scheme a plank in the Eisenach programme among their demands 
for measures of relief. This "concession," which had then proved of no effect 
as a, means of conciliation, was again made at Grotha; but in accepting it this 
time the Lassallians evidently valued it far more as a token of friendship than 
for the intrinsic worth of the plank itself, in which they believed no more. 
The fact is that upon this point and some others — chiefly of a tactical nature 
but involving a true comprehension of fundamental principles and a correct 
understanding of the class struggle — a change had been brought about in the 
views of the Lassallians (as Hugo Vogt rightly observes) "by the agitation of 
the International, and the publication, in 1867, of Karl Marx's 'Capital, which 
was at once recognized by the Lassallians as well as by the Marxists as the 
fundamental work of modem Socialism." 

A separate resolution was adopted at Gotha, recognizing that under the 
capitalist system trade unionism was a necessity imposed upon the working- 
men by the very nature of the class struggle, and declaring, therefore, that it 
was the duty of every wage worker to enter the union of his trade, with a view 
to combined resistance against degradation and combined action for improve- 
ment. This was of special importance, chiefly because of the efforts of the Pro- 
gressists, through their agents in the economic organizations of labor, to keep 
these bodies on the very lines which we have here termed the lines of "pure- 
and-simpledom." Hereafter every Socialist would stand guard, in the eco- 
nomic as well as in the political field. 

In January, 1876, the penal code being under consideration in the Reichs- 
tag, Bismarck introduced his amendment relating to the press, and urged its 
passage. It provided severe punishment by fine and imprisonment for "any 
person who in a manner endangering the public peace incited different classes 
of the population against one another or in like manner attacked the institu- 
tions of matrimony, family or property." 

An overwhelming majority of the Reichstag, afraid to trust the Imperial 
government with the despotic power which it demanded with a verbaJ promise 
to use it only against the Socialists, but which it might also have used against 
other parties, declared itself against this scheme by vote and argument, on the 
ground that it would endanger the freedom of the entire press and that the 
penal code of the Empire contained sufllcient provisions for the prevention or 
punishment of actual offenses. 

Bismarck's disappointment was bHter. He had hoped that the Progress- 
ists, whose supporters among the proletariat were being steadily reduced in 
number by the inroads of Socialism, might be induced to cut their own throats 
by voting for this amendment. But, aware of the punishment with which 



— 20 — 

they might be visited at the polls by that large portion of their constituencies 
which was still composed of wage workers if they fell into this Bismarckiac 
trap — a punishment far greater to them than that which any law they might 
help to pass could inflict upon the Socialists — they took the lofty ground that 
a free press corrected its own abuses. Even the Centrists had apparently 
learned enough of the expanding properties of Socialism under pressure to 
deny the value of punishment as a remedy to that great and peculiar evil. 

Temporarily relieved of their worst apprehensions — although subject to a 
constantly increasing espionage and ill treatment against which they had no 
other redress than the light which their organs could cast upon the villainous 
proceedings of the authorities — the Social-Democrats, now thoroughly united, 
resumed agitation with tenfold energy. From 1875 to 1877 they increased the 
number of their papers from 11 to 41, of which 13 were issued daily, 13 semi- 
weekly, 12 weekly and 3 twice a month. There were besides 14 trade-union 
papers with outspoken Socialist tendencies. 

But while the defeat of Bismarck in the Reichstag made their papers and 
agitation comparatively safe outside of Prussia, the Socialists remained ex- 
posed on Prussian territory to the provisions of the above mentioned law of 
1850, which Bismarck was now determined to enforce against them with the 
utmost rigor. In March, 1876, an order was made by a Berlin court, declaring 
the Social-Democratic party unlawful, and prohibiting it within the boundaries 
of Prussia. The immediate result of this order was that thie next Socialist Con- 
gress could not be held as a congress of the "party"; in order to enable the 
Prussian Socialists to send delegates, a "general congress of Socialists" was 
called. This body met at Gotha in August, 1876, and reconstructed the organi- 
zation of the party by formally severing all connections between the local 
organizations and the central committee. But it was understood that in each 
locality only one member (a trusted one, who would be, in fact, though not lu 
name, the representative of his local organization) would be in communication 
with the central committee, and that the old relations would thus be sub- 
stantially kept up. For the purpose of collecting in Prussia monies for the 
central fund, a monthly leaflet, called "The Elector," was issued and sold at a 
price equivalent to the amount elsewhere paid as party dues. Thus did the 
Socialists meet and defeat Bismarck on his selected ground of legal chicanery. 

A few months later — January, 1877 — they met him at the polls and de- 
feated him in still grander style. They cast 486,843 votes; an increase of 135,- 
792 since 1874. In Berlin, the capital of the Empire, the heart of Prussia, and 
the center of persecution, their vote was tripled, rising from 11,500 in 1874 to 
31,494 in 1877. The party carried 12 seats, two of them in Berlin. 

The new Reichstag was by no means so subservient a body as Bismarck 
had desired and expected. It was largely representative of the capitalistic 
spirit, which the modern conditions of production had been developing in Ger- 
many with tenfold energy since the accomplishment of her political unity. At 
the bunco game of "patriotism," — a game at which the wily Chancellor was 
wont to play in all seasons — the poor populace might still have been readily 
cheated; but the money interests did not allow themselves to be duped by 
financial schemes gaudily dressed in national colors. Despite the efforts of 
Prance to reorganize her military forces on a gigantic scale, the mercantile 
classes of Germany felt that the nation was safe. At any rate they could not 
perceive any danger ahead, so immediately threatening as to justify the con- 
stant increase of war expenditure. They held, quite rightly for once, that this 



— 21 — 

was merely a war of franks against marks, in which the German tactics should 
he to save the marks and let the franks go to waste. Bismarck, however, had 
a supreme contempt for such grocerlike bourgeois diplomacy. In fact, he 
wanted money. The financial situation of the empire was anything but satis- 
factory. Not only the French milliards paid to Germany in 1871 were gone 
without leaving any trace of wealth behind them, but the value of agricul- 
tural land was rapidly decreasing under the pressure of foreign competition 
in food stuffs, and therefore the fiscal system of the Empire, and of every State 
it comprised, was sapped at its very foundation. The landed aristocracy was 
grumbling; so was the peasant. Poor peasant, whose interest, as every one 
could now see, was "identical" with that of the lord! Bismarck, who had 
patriotically become a great landowner, loved the peasant. He would, he must, 
enable him to pay his taxes — and more taxes by and by. 

So Bismarck came to the Reichstag with a protective tariff; a tariff that 
would, of course, protect equally all the industries of the country by making 
everything dearer, especially the necessaries of life. If a foreigner invaded the 
German market with his cheap products, he would at least have to pay duty at 
the gates of the Empire. To the extent of the contribution thus fairly levied 
upon him for the privilege of making profits in Germany, he would swell the 
receipts of, the imperial treasury. 

But in the previous twenty years Germany had vastly progressed in manu- 
factures and foreign commerce. Thanks to the cheap labor at the command of 
her capitalists, she could already undersell her foreign rivals in many markets. 
The large emigration from her shores, driven to America and other parts of 
the world by intolerable misery on the native soil, although a serious loss in 
some respects, was in others a great gain by the resulting extension of her 
foreign relations. Her exports, like those of England, consisted mainly in fin- 
ished products, and likewise her imports were chiefiy raw materials and 
food-stuffs. To increase the cost of the raw materials was to increase the cost 
of the finished products; it would place the German manufacturers at a dis- 
advantage, unless they could reduce to the same extent the wages of German 
labor; and this last contingency, as good Christians, as patriotic Germans, 
they could not contemplate without horror, although they did reduce wages, 
tariff or no tariff, whenever they could find a pretense or a way. Again, to in- 
crease the price of food-stuffs was to decrease the purchasing power of wages, 
unless wages were increased accordingly. In the first case the workingmen 
would be the losers and the manufacturers would gain nothing; in the second 
case the workingmen would gain nothing but the manufacturers would lose; in 
both cases the loss of the manufacturers or of the laborers would be the gain of 
the landed aristocracy to a large extent, and of the peasantry to an insignifi- 
cant amount. 

It were a waste of time to review at greater length the usual tariff and 
anti-tariff sophistry (sufficiently familiar to Americans) that was displayed on 
that occasion. We may simply state that the Socialists in the Reichstag im- 
proved the opportunity thus afforded of showing in its true light the conflict 
of interests necessarily resulting from the capitalist system, the dishonesty of 
both sides, and the impudence of each in claiming that the welfare of the labor- 
ing class was its foremost consideration, the real dispute being as to which 
should get the larger share of the fieece of labor. Both winced under the So- 
cialist lash; after which the Liberal capitalist majority proceeded to suit itself 
by rejecting the Bismarckian tariff. 



— 22 — 

The mighty Chancellor was wroth. Had he dared to go to the people upon 
an issue which made him appear like favoring an increase in the price of bread, 
this Reichstag would not have lived another day. Unable to use a real cause for 
a dissolution, he waited for a pretext. 

Soon, however, an unexpected event cast the tariff question into the shade. 
On May 11, 1878, while driving through the Unter den Linden in Berlin with his 
daughter, the Grand Duchess of Baden, the Emperor William was shot at twice 
without effect by an ignorant, half-witted, erratic young man of 21 years, 
named Hodel, and known by his few acquaintances as a physical, mental and 
moral wreck. When Bismarck, who then was at Frederichsruhe, received a 
brief dispatch informing him of this "attempt on the life of the Emperor," he, 
without waiting for further particulars, laconically but suggestively wired 
back: "Exceptional law against the Socialists." The hint, of course, was im- 
mediately taken by the officials, and an effort made to work public opinion ac- 
cordingly. Within nine days a coercive bill, entitled, "A law for the checking 
of Social-Democratic excesses," was laid before the Reichstag with an urgent 
demand for its immediate passage. At the same time, in order to create among 
the people, by a superposition of facts without any real connection, the impres- 
sion that the act of Hodel was only a part of some violent policy supposed to 
have been entered upon by the Socialists, Herr Most, whose anarchistic ten- 
dencies were beginning to strongly manifest themselves in opposition to the 
wise tactics of Bebel and Liebknecht, was being prosecuted in Berlin for "libel- 
ling the clergy." But the Reichstag had not entirely lost its senses. It could 
not thus be carried by storm. The Anti-Socialist bill was rejected by the over- 
whelming vote of 251 to 57. 

A few days later, while Bismarck, brooding over his defeat, was still de- 
liberating upon the advisability of dissolving the recalcitrant Reichstag, a 
second attack was made upon the life of the Emperor. From the upper win- 
dow of a house fronting on the Linden a Dr. Karl Nobiling fired at the old 
Kaiser and wounded him severely, though not fatally. This was on June 2, or 
just three weeks after the mad attempt of Hodel to immortalize himself as a 
regicide. Not only was there an entire absence of facts or appearances which 
might induce the suspicion that Socialism or the Socialists had in the remotest 
way anything to do with the act of Nobiling, but from the very beginning the 
information obtained by the government concerning his antecedents and affilia- 
tions was absolutely conclusive as to tne groundlessness of any such suspicion. 
He had been until lately an employee of the Bureau of Statistics of Saxony at 
Dresden. He had, like many other people, attended Socialist meetings, but in 
the free debates held there it was as an anti-Socialist that he had taken the 
floor. In politics he was a National Liberal and acknowledged himself a mem- 
ber of that party. By suppressing these facts until he had accomplished his 
purpose, and by feeding the press with false reports, Bismarck provoked a 
violent outburst of rage and hatred against the Socialists throughout the 
country. "They were insulted in public places, hounded by police and em- 
ployers, refused admittance to theaters, saloons and restaurants. Thousands 
of them were placed under arrest on the flimsiest charges. Nothing appeared 
more meritorious than to detect and denounce a Socialist. The words and 
meaning of casual remarks in private conversation were tortured into seditious 
language, which zealous judges punished with outrageous sentences. How far 
things had gone is shown by a report of Bayard Taylor, then United States 
Minister to Germany, warning German-American citizens traveling or sojourn- 



— 23 — 

ing in the fatherland to refrain from all political conversations as liable to in- 
volve them in difficulties." 

Under this pressure of public sentiment the Reichstag would now have 
been perfectly willing to pass any anti-Socialist bill which Bismarck might 
have submitted. But he wanted to get rid of that parliament; he wanted a new 
election at that very moment, for he did not doubt that the result of it would 
show a complete annihilation of Socialism. Nine days after Nobeling's per- 
formance he dissolved the Reichstag under the false pretense that the first 
anti-Socialist bill hafing been rejected by it, a new one would now fare no 
better. 

The day appointed for the election was the 30th of July, 1878. The Social- 
ists had only eighteen days to prepare for it. Never was a party forced into a 
campaign under more adverse conditions. And it held its own magnificently. 
Its vote was 437,158, or about 55,000 less than at the normal election of 1877. 
The loss was sustained in the small towns and rural districts, where terrorism 
and the lack of time operated adversely with greatest force. On the other 
hand, the city vote showed a decided increase. In Berlin, for instance, it rose 
from 31,522 to 56,147. The war cry of all the other parties had been: "Drive 
them out of the Reichstag." Accordingly, wherever a Socialist candidate had a 
chance of election in a divided field, all the parties combined against him. 
Nevertheless, nine Socialist deputies were returned, and these included Bebel 
and Liebknecht. 

Bismarck, at last, had the sort of parliament he wanted. He lost no time 
in introducing his bill, which he prefaced, in part, with the following consider- 
ations: 

"It has become a necessity, for the preservation of the State and society, to 
adopt an attitude of determined opposition to the Social-Democratic movement. 
It is true that thought cannot be repressed by external compulsion, and an in- 
tellectual movement can only be effectually combated by intellectual means. 
But such a movement, when it enters on false courses and threatens to become 
pernicious, may be deprived of its means of extension by legitimate methods. 

"Yet the State alone will never succeed, even with the means proposed in 
this bill, in destroying the Social-Democratic agitation. These are only the pre- 
liminary requisites of the cure, not the cure itself. Rather will it need the 
active co-operation of all the conservative forces of civilized society, in order, 
by the revival of religious sentiment, by enlightenment and instruction, by 
strengthening the sense of right and morality among the people, and by future 
economic reforms, to effect a radical cure. 

"The ordinary penal code is inadequate to stem the agitation in question, 
because of its predominatingly repressive character, in virtue of which it can 
indeed take cognizance of particular violations of law, but not of a continuous 
agitation directed against the State and society. A revision in this depart- 
ment is, therefore, not advisable, especially as, in order to be operative, it 
would have to exceed the requirements of the present and would necessitate a 
permanent curtailment of rights. What is wanted is rather a special enactment 
which shall subject the right of association and of public meeting, the freedom 
of the press, and the following of particular trades, as well as the liberty of re- 
moval from one place to another, to such limitations as shall exclusively oper- 
ate against the dangerous aims of Social-Democracy; inasmuch as, confessed- 
ly, all morbid and extraordinary conditions in the life of the State calV ^^-^ 



— 24 — 

remedy by means of special legislation, directed exclusively to the removal of 
the immediate danger, and ceasing to operate as soon as its object is attained." 

By the law itself, "all Social-Democratic, Socialistic or Communistic So- 
cieties," and all combinations having tendencies of a similar character, were 
forbidden. All mutual benefit societies were subject to the control of the police, 
who could be present at their sittings, call and conduct their general meetings, 
forbid resolutions likely to further Socialistic aims or propaganda, supervise 
the oflScers and even take charge of the funds. If a society was prohibited its 
funds were confiscated. Literature of a Socialistic tendejicy was forbidden. A 
newspaper could be seized and prohibited by the police, and be suppressed for- 
ever when one of its numbers had been thus prohibited. Its property could also 
be destroyed or confiscated.* Suspected persons could be expelled from the 
town or district in which they resided. Socialistic meetings were declared un- 
lawful, and anyone offering accommodation to a prohibited society was liable 
to imprisonment. Could also be punished by imprisonment, or fine, anyone 
who distributed forbidden publications or collected subscriptions for Social- 
Democratic purposes. In bitter mockery of the forms of justice, a special com- 
mission of five members, including a president and a vice-president appointed 
by the Emperor, was instituted to hear the appeals of societies prohibited and 
of editors of newspapers suspended by the police; but no such appeal could 
stay police execution, which was immediate. Lastly, in districts where all these 
measures of repression might not suffice to extinguish Socialism, the govern- 
ment was empowered to proclaim a "minor state of siege." This famous "law 
of exception," signed on Oct. 21, 1878, by the Crown Prince Friedrich Wilhelm 
and countersigned by Bismarck, was to remain in force until March 31, 1881; 
but the time of its operation, through successive extensions, did not finally 
come to an end until tl^e Fall of 1890. 

Within a few days of the promulgation of the law most of the newspapers 
of the party were prohibited. These papers were generally published by co- 
operative associations, which employed several hundreds of persons and in 
v^hich thousands of wage workers had put their small savings. The extent of 
the loss thus brutally infiicted upon these people may be inferred from the 
fact that the Leipzig Vorwarts, the Berlin Free Press and the Hamburg- Altona 
Volksblatt aggregated a circulation of 45,000. Still more considerable were the 
losses caused by the dissolution of trade-unions, which was also immediately 
proceeded with. After a number of these societies had been broken up by the 
police and their property confiscated, many others, largely composed of Social- 
ists, saved their funds, however, by disbanding voluntarily. Within a few 
months all the economic organizations of labor — with the exception of the com- 
positors' union, which placed itself under police control — were wiped out of 
existence. 

At the same time the government was availing itself with the utmost re- 
lentlessness of all its powers of persecution against the Socialist leaders and 
agitators. The minor state of siege was first proclaimed in Berlin on Novem- 
ber 28, 1878, Sixty-seven Socialists were on one day served with orders to leave 



* In the debate upon these confiscation clauses of the bill, Bebel twitted Bismarck by 
comparing his professions of respect for private property with his intended destruction and 
absorption of the property of working people. He said: "We wish to abolish the present 
form of private property in the instruments of production as well as in land. But Social- 
Democracy has never yet forcibly taken or destroyed private property to the value of a cent 
<ffinfer), nor does it attack private property with the intention of ruining the individual." 



— 25 — 

that city within twenty-four or forty-eight hours; and all of them, with one ex- 
ception, were he^^ds of families. So cruel was the police in its application of the 
law that numbers of people in all ranks of society and in all parts of the 
country, who had previously joined in the crusade against Socialism, immedia- 
ately responded with money contributions to a call for relief issued by the 
Socialist members of the Reichstag. 

There seemed to be no loophole through which the Social-Democracy could 
crawl. The situation, at "any rate, obviously called for the most cautious, de- 
liberate action that cool-headed, long-sighted, well-informed and unflinching 
men could decide upon. In the meantime, nothing better could be done than 
to "sham dead," in accordance with the advice discreetly sent out by the So- 
cialist deputies to the committeemen, and likewise transmitted by these to all 
members of the party, as soon as it was ascertained that a majority of the 
Reichstag would vote for the law of exception. For, if on the one hand it had 
become more apparent than ever that the ruling classes were determined to 
maintain their economic and political power at all costs and all hazards, so that 
in the end a violent revolution seemed inevitable, yet, on the other hand, it was 
evident that nothing would please them better than a premature uprising of 
the Socialists, which they could repress at that time far more easily if not less 
bloodily than the Versaillese had done in the case of the Paris Commune. In 
such event they would probably be safe from Socialistic agitation for many 
years to come, even if they had to say, like Louis XV., "After me the deluge.** 
Manifestly, the policy of Bismarck and the manner in which he carried it out 
had no other object in view. It was, above all, a policy of provocation, and the 
Anarchist leaders — the Mosts and the Hasselmanns — who not only then openly 
advocated armed resistance but fomented disruption in the ranks of the party 
by villainously casting suspicion upon its ablest and most severely tried vet- 
erans, were obviously, stupidly, playing into the hands of Bismarck. 

Fortunately, those hare-brained "propagandists of the deed," who never 
themselves killed a gad-fly but sent their dupes to the scaffold, did not prevail. 
At a secret conference held in a village near Leipzig and attended by a num- 
ber of delegates from all parts of Germany, the whole ground was carefully 
surveyed and the resolution was taken to continue "shamming dead." 

There remained, however, an open field of agitation, and this was the 
Reichstag itself; a last place of refuge, where the Socialist deputies, facing all 
the powers of oppression, could freely speak, and did speak — as they gleefully 
said to their enraged opponents — not to a few pillars of despotism in the Cham- 
ber, but to the down-trodden masses on the outside.* As the reports of par- 
liamentary proceedings were privileged, the speeches of those deputies were 
published in extenso by the party papers and read with avidity throughout 
Germany. This was more than Bismarck could endure. He determined to gag 
the Socialist representatives, and even, if possible, to get rid of them entirely. 
On the 18th of February, 1879, a letter from the police authorities was sub- 
mitted to the Reichstag, asking its consent to the arrest and prosecution of two 



* The following declaration made in the Volksstaat in 1874. states exactly the position, 
not of the German Social-Democracy alone, but of the Socialist parties in all countries and 
at all times: "Our party is a revolutionary party. If it allowed itself to be decoyed upon 
parliamentary ground it would cease to be a revolutionary party— would, in fact, cease 
to exist. We take part in the elections and send representatives to the Reichstag solely 
for purposes of agitation. The strength of our party lies in the people, in the people lies 
our sphere of operations. Only in order that we may address the people do we ascend 
the tribune of the Reichstag." 



— 26 — 

Socialist members for an alleged violation of those provisions of the new law 
which related to the minor state of siege. This demand roused a storm of op- 
position. In the course of the debate that followed, one of Bismarck's satellites 
proposed an am^ucUiq^t to the law, subjecting the deputies to its operation, so 
that they could be arrested and prosecuted at any time without the consent of 
the Reichstag; but some one immediately cried out "The Constitution!" and the 
government did not dare to publicly make its own the proposition of its legis- 
lative scout. Finally, by a great majority, the Reichstag refused to grant the 
powers demanded by the police. Then, on March 4, Bismarck himself came out 
with a bill empowering the Reichstag to punish any of its members "who 
abused his parliamentary privileges" and to forbid the publication of its pro- 
ceedings whenever in its judgment such a proposition was desirable. But the 
rude Chancellor, who never knew where to stop, had exhausted the capacity of 
his conservative parliament for blind submission, and amid a general outcry 
from the outside for "freedom of debate," his "Muzzle Bill" was defeated. 

But although the right of free speech in the Reichstag had been finally pre- 
served — a right which under the circumstances and on account of what went 
with it could not be too highly valued — the need of an outspoken Socialist paper 
was sorely felt throughout the country. Most was in London editing the 
"Freiheit," which had made its first appearance on January 1st, 1879. His 
utterances at first had been simply bold and such as every Socialist in Germany, 
unable to speak out his thoughts, was naturally glad to see in print; so that 
his paper had for a brief time been considered as fairly representing the col- 
lective indignation of the party. For this reason it had been circulated by de- 
voted Socialists at no small risk to themselves. But Most had soon developed 
into a full-fiedged Anarchist, violent, insolent, dictatorial, responsible to no 
one but himself. From his safe retreat he was bitterly denouncing the 
"cautious policy of the party," to the intense disgust of the very men who had 
jeopardized their own freedom and means of life in distributing a paper which 
they thought was intended to keep up the spirit of their comrades and to pre- 
serve the integrity of their organization. At last steps were taken with a view 
to the publication of an aggressive but truly Socialist organ, which finally ap- 
peared at Zurich, in Switzerland, on September 28, 1879, under the name of 
"Sozial-Demokrat." Smuggled into Germany by the wholesale and widely 
scattered throughout the country despite all police vigilance, this paper re- 
vived the drooping spirits of disheartened comrades, filled them with unbound- 
ed confidence in the ability of Socialism to face any storm and saved the party 
from the disintegrating infiuences of Anarchism. 

Underground, as it were, the agitation, driven from the surface, went on. 
In view of the parliamentary elections to be held in 1881, extensive preparations 
had to be made under conditions of extreme diflOlculty. A secret congress, at- 
tended by about fifty delegates, was held in the old castle of Wyden, near 
Ossingen, in Switzerland, and sat from the 20th to the 23d of August, 1879. The 
policy pursued since the promulgation of the Socialist law by the members of 
parliament and the party officers generally was fully endorsed. A resolution 
was passed, declaring that Most and Hasselmann had placed themselves out- 
side of the party. The word "legal" was expunged from the declaration in the 
Gotha platform, that the Social-Democracy "uses all legal means to attain a 
free and Socialistic state of society." The comrades were advised to put up 
candidates in their respective electoral districts regardless of the number of ad- 
herents, and to get as many votes for them as possible at the first ballot, but 



— 27 — 

to abstain from participating in the second one if the contest was between 
candidates of the other parties. Arrangements were made to collect money,* to 
establish close connections between the German Socialists abroad and the 
home organization; also to extend the intercourse with the Socialist parties of 
other countries, and, Jor this purpose, to send two delegates to the inter- 
national congress that the Belgians proposed to hold in 1881. 

As election time drew near, police persecution increased to an extent that 
would not have previously seemed possible, considering the point it had al- 
ready reached. Many agitators had been driven out of the country, and those 
who remained not only were under close surveillance but could not readily go 
from one place to another, because of the restrictions placed by the law upon 
their freedom of motion. For these and many other reasons, the supply of 
candidates was also very scanty, and the same men had to run in several dis- 
tricts. Again, while the Anarchists preached abstention and thereby afforded 
the timorous an opportunity of shirking their conscientious duty without los- 
ing caste with their bolder fellows, not only the authorities but the employers 
of labor exerted upon the workers at their mercy the utmost espionage, pres- 
sure and intimidation. 

Nevertheless, when the great day came, 311,961 Socialists — according to 
the official figures — marched to the jJolls and elected twelve of their candidates. 

As compared with the result of 1878 (namely, 437,000 votes and 9 deputies) 
this showed a loss of about 125,000 votes but a gain of three deputies in the 
Reichstag. The loss was chiefly in districts where no immediate hope of suc- 
cess had ever been entertained, and where no effective organization could be 
maintained under present conditions. But in the great cities, upon which the 
Social Democrats, for a still long period of years, were to depend for their prog- 
ress, they had, as a rule, either lost little or made sensible gains. Hence their 
increased representation in Parliament. 

It was, indeed, a triumph. The Social Democracy had passed through the 
fireof Inferno and proved its indestructibility. Henceforth the fight went on 
ceaselessly, almost openly, regardless of fine and imprisonment. The timid, 
the disaffected flocked back to the standard of emancipation and tried to make 
up by self-sacriflce for their previous displays of faint-heartedness or distrust. 
Organizations sprang up, with innocent^sounding names, which as soon as dis- 
solved by the police reappeared under names still more inoffensive. No con- 
cert, no entertainment but was a secret means of collecting money for the 
dear cause. Poor people sang and danced every Sunday, that Bismarck might 
roar and fuihe on election day. Never had they taken their fate so philosophic- 
ally; never had they been so jolly. Their fun sometimes overstepped the bounds 
of propriety; as, for instance when they winked to the soldiers and dropped 
Socialist literature into the barracks; literature, by the way, which the soldiers 
dared to read and found more to their taste than the curses and kicks of their 
officers. This was rather a serious matter. 

Bismarck, of course, was "anxious to better the condition" of those poor 
people; to make them as happy and contented in reality as they were trying to 
be in appearance. Had he not said, in his preface to the law of exception, that 
this law was "a preliminary requisite of the cure, not the cure itself?" To 
show that he was in earnest when he vaguely spoke of "future economic re- 
forms," he came to the Reichstag from time to time, at long intervals, with 



• On this occasion the Socialist deputy Fritsche was sent to the United States and 
aXter a brief tour of agitation returned to Germany with more than 13,000 marks. 



— 28 - 

schemes of insurance against accident, against sickness, against old age; spoke 
even of the "right to work"; boldly said it was "the duty of the State to give 
work to any healthy man who could not find employment," and to "provide for 
the support and care of those who were unable to sustain themselves." He 
would, in fact, give them Socialism of Lis own make. Yet they would not have 
it. They claimed it was bogus; a contemptible imitation o'f the genuine article, 
which the Social-Democracy alone could produce. Bismarck, indeed, could not 
help letting the cat out of the bag: "If the State," he said, "will show a little 
more Christian solicitude for the workingman, I believe the gentlemen of the 
Wyden programme will sound their bird-call in vain, and that the thronging 
to them will greatly decrease." 

The mistake of Bismarck was twofold; firstly, he "showed" and never 
gave; secondly, what he showed was so little that it was not worth looking at. 
Liebknecht replied in substance: "He who takes up the question of social re- 
form honestly must place the lever at the wrong relationship between produc- 
tion and consumption, and abolish the exploitation of the working classes by 
capital — abolish, therefore, the wage system. That is social reform, and, car- 
ried out thoroughly, social revolution. What the Imperial Chancellor is offer- 
ing is anything but social reform. What is his Accident law, or his Sick Fund 
law, or his infirm and Old Age law? In each case a mere police law for the reg- 
ulation of the poor system. Is this solving the social problem? Why, it is not 
even breaking the way for social reform Your aim, in truth, is not reform at 
all. Your aim is solely to destroy our organization. You have not succeeded so 
far, and you will never succeed. It would be the greatest misfortune for you if 
you did succeed. The Anarchists, who are now carrying on their work in 
Austria, have no footing in Germany. Why? Because in Germany the .mad 
plans of those men are wrecked on the compact organization of the Social - 
Democracy. Because the German proletariat, seeing the futility of your anti- 
Socialist law, has not yet abandoned the hope of attaining its ends peacefully. 
But suppose we should declare our inability to resist destruction and should 
decline to be any longer responsible. Well, do you really believe — you who 
have so often praised the bravery of the Germans up to heaven when it has 
been your interest to do so — do you really believe that the hundreds of thou- 
sands of German Social-Democrats are cowards?" 

And thus the fight went on. The municipal contests of 1883 and the elec- 
tion, in that year, of four Socialists to the Saxon Landtag showed that the good 
ship was steadily forging ahead against tide and wind, and when at last the 
year 1884 brought on the second great parliamentary battle under the Bis- 
marckian "laws of exception," the vote registered to the credit of Socialism in 
the German Empire was 599,990. 

Twenty-four Socialist deputies were elected, or double the number of 
1881. 

In the city of Berlin two of the six seats fell to the Socialists, whose vote 
had increased to 69,000. 

Well may the Bismarckian Minister, von Puttkamer, have sadly said in 
December, 1882: "It is unquestionable that we have not yet succeeded in wiping 
Social -Democracy from the face of the earth, or even in shaking it to its 
center." 

The eyes of the world were fixed on Germany. Socialism, which for 
twelve years had remained dormant in all the other countries of Europe, began 
to show again some signs of life in France and Belgium. The victory of 1884 



— 29 — 

* 

won on German soil by 600,000 class-conscious workingmen over the strongesjt 
despotism that the proletariat had ever faced, gave the signal for that reorgan- 
ization of national forces everywhere, which was the necessary prelude to the 
reconstitution of the international movement. 

The ominous tidings of the election alarmed the Imperial Court, petrified 
the police and disconcerted every political party. Bismarck himself, it is 
said, was dumfounded, and for a while did not know what to do. When he 
had sufficiently recovered his sense of deviltry to again scheme and plot and 
set his imps in motion, ,the great work of exterminating the Socialists was re- 
sumed with increasing fury. Between Oct. 1st, 1884, and Sept. 30th, 1885, sev- 
enty-six meetings were dissolved in Berlin alone, and as many more were pro- 
hibited. Despite police vigilance and brutality, workingmen's associations 
multiplied at an unprecedented rate. Strikes, rendered more difficult by an 
ordinance of Minister Puttkamer, grew in number and magnitude. Repeatedly 
defied and cornered in discussion by the Socialist deputies, Bismarck again 
undertook to get rid of them. Previous to the election of 1884, the Socialist 
congress, which could not meet anywhere in Germany, had been held at 
Copenhagen, in Denmark. On their return several delegates had been ar- 
rested but discharged. Later, however, some of these men, after several prose- 
cuting attorneys had declined to institute proceedings against them, were in- 
dicted at Chemnitz and tried on the charge of having participated in a secret 
combination for the circulation of prohibited publications. The court acquitted 
them all. Sorely disappointed, the government procured from the Federal 
Court of Appeals a reversal of the judgment of acquittal. A new trial was 
had at Freiberg, and under the decision of the Court of Appeals the accused were 
found guilty. This decision was glaringly outrageous. While admitting that 
the alleged organization had no officers or constitution, it was held that par- 
ticipation in a congress which received a report concerning the "Social-Demo- 
crat" and approved by resolution the editorial conduct of that paper, was cir- 
cumstantial evidence showing an unlawful combination within the meaning 
of the law. 

Among the twelve victims of the Freiberg prosecution — all leading Social- 
ists — ^xiL were members of the Reichstag, namely, Bebel, Vollmar, Dietz, Auer, 
BYohme and Viereck. Four of these, including Bebel, were sentenced to nine 
months and the others to six months* imprisonment. Upon their release it was 
found that the health of some had been severely impaired by the treatment 
they had received during their incarceration. 

In February, 1887, the Reichstag took issue with .the government upon the 
Army Bill and was "patriotically" dissolved; whereupon the National Liberals 
and the Conservatives united their voting forces. This was a powerful com- 
bination; but Bismarck feared its consequences far less than he did the growth 
of Socialism, and his attention during the electoral campaign was chiefly di- 
rected to the movements of the Social-Democrats. Their electoral leaflets 
were prohibited, their meetings dispersed, their agitators apprehended, their 
houses invaded and searched. On election day, they cast 763,128 votes, or 213,- 
138 more than in 1884! In Berlin, where the persecution had been most relent- 
less, they cast 93,335 ballots, or 40 per cent, of the total vote. 

Owing, however, to the party coalitions that had taken place, the number 
of Socialist deputies fell from 24 to 11. In Saxony, where the Socialists cast 
149,279 ballots for their candidates, or nearly 29 per cent, of the total vote, 
they did not elect one deputy. But there was no rejoicing on this account 



—•30 — 

among the other parties. All realized the full meaning of the mighty growth 
of the proletarian vote, and not one of their organs dared to controvert this 
conclusion of the Berlin " Volksblatt" : "The propertied class may divide or com- 
bine as they please into parties; the future is ours." 

Exasperated to madness, Bismarck demanded from the Reichstag not only 
an extension of the anti-Socialist law, but an amendment thereto, providing 
severer punishments for Socialist propagandists and granting to the govern- 
ment the additional power of expelling Socialist agitators from the country. 
Vainly had Liebknecht reminded the stubborn Chancellor of the French fabul- 
ist's saying: "Tant va la cruche k Teau qu'enfln elle se casse" (so much goes 
the pitcher to the well that some fine morning it goes to pieces.) It was during 
the debate upon this infamous bill of arbitrary and unlimited proscription 
that his anti-Socialist legislation received its death-blow. 

Under the decision of the Court of Appeals already referred to, a great 
trial was taking place at Elbei^eld, in the course of which the police system 
of espionage, with all its attendant corruptions and rascality, was laid bare in 
its cancer-like hideousness before the nation. Finally, the Socialist deputy 
Singer presented to the Reichstag official proofs of the fact that the police was 
regularly employing agents to incite workingmen to deeds of violence. One of 
these agents — a certain Schroeder — was arrested in Switzerland and a box of 
dynamite found in his possession. It was shown by testimony taken before the 
Swiss authorities that Schroeder was receiving a regular salary from the di- 
rectors of the Berlin police as a special spy; that in this capacity he had con- 
trived to make himself a trusted companion of Stellmacher, Peukert and other 
noted Anarchists; that he had taken a leading part in an Anarchist confer- 
ence, and that he had paid for the printing of several issues of the "Freiheit" 
when it was temporarily published in Switzerland during the imprisonment of 
Most in London. From the details of this exposure it appeared clearly that the 
purpose of the government in entertaining friendly relations with the Anar- 
chists was not to discover and thwart their plots, but to actually suggest, en- 
courage and aid such plots in order to promote anti-Socialist legislation. Sing- 
er's revelations naturally produced a wide-spread sensation and profound dis- 
gust, and when Bismarck's proscription bill came to a vote in January, 1890, 
a few conservatives only were found sufficiently barren of honor and con- 
science to record themselves in its favor. The Reichstag was immediately 
dissolved and the 20th of February appointed for the election of a new parlia- 
ment. 

In the meantime important events of another sort had taken place. First 
may be noted the two international Socialist congresses held simultaneously at 
Paris in July, 1889, and in only one of which Germany was represented. As 
no movement could pretend to be of an international character without the co- 
operation of the German Social -Democracy, the position taken by the latter on 
this occasion was the first necessary step in the direction of complete unity 
upon a sound basis of principle and tactics. It no doubt facilitated the task 
assigned to the Belgians by the two Paris congresses, of accomplishing this 
unity at Brussels in 1891. At any rate the Paris gatherings of 1889, by the 
nature, number and nationalities of the organizations represented, plainly 
showed that the Socialist wave was advancing in all countries, and that a new 
force, with which the governments of Europe would have to reckon in their in- 
ternational relations, had made its appearance. 

Next came the death of the old Emperor William, and the ninety days* 



— 31 — 



reign of his dying son Fritz, during which Bismarck gave the astonished world 
a spectacle of intrigue unsurpassed in the annals of the Roman Empire. This 
bold man had dreamt of nothing less than to.mi|ke the Chancellorship — that 
is, the real imperial power — hereditary in his tStiihy. 

When the William of many uniforms ascended the throne, his first care was 
to rid himself of his over towering Minister in a decent way, if possible, or, 
this failing, in any possible way. In the light of his subsequent conduct it may 
safely be assumed that he did not then have for the Socialists, or for the pro- 
letarian classes generally, a more tender regard than Bismarck had ever shown. 
But it admirably served his purpose to differ with the Chancellor concerning 
their treatment; and it served also the purpose of his courtiers to encourage 
this difference, to widen it by good argument, to strengthen it by displays of 
virtuous indignation, and to push it to a climax by flattering their young dupe 
with a prospect of universal genuflexion to his greatness as the clementest 
monarch, the kindest father of the poor people and the wisest statesman of his 
day. Hence came out — as sudden, as unexpected, as any theatrical change of 
uniform could be — the two famous "Rescripts," namely: One addressed to Bis- 
marck, instructing him "to bring about a conference between " the governments 
of countries competing with Germany on the world's markets, with a view to 
the International regulation and limitation of the labor exacted from working 
people;" the other addressed to the Minister of Commerce, declaring that it was 
the duty of the State "to regulate the time and nature of labor, so that the 
health, morality and material welfare of the working people, as well as their 
equal rights before the law, might be preserved." 

These rescripts were issued on the 4th of February, 1890, or sixteen days 
before election. And we know of American politicians, noted among their 
fellows for their wonderful achievements in the field of political tomfoolery, 
who then admiringly declared that the young Emperor had not his peer in 
this country. The German workmen, however, unlike their fellow proletarians 
of America, reasoned that if William had become or was in a fair way of be- 
coming a "friend of labor," the best mode of pleasing and strengthening him 
was to vote the Socialist ticket. On election day, therefore, they cast 1,427,298 
votes for the Social-Democratic candidates, electing 20 of them outright, and 
15 more at the second ballot. 

The following table shows the progress made in 26 great cities of Ger- 
many during the twelve years of "exceptional law": 



Cities. 1878. 1890. 

Berlin 51,164 126,317 

Hamburg 29,629 67,303 

Breslau 13,065 21,555 

Munich 5,249 28,218 

Dresden 17,303 25,079 

Leipzig 5,822 12,921 

Cologne 2,189 10,641 

Magdburg 6,253 17,266 

Frankf ort-on-Main . . . 4,080 12,663 

Koenigsberg 1,108 12,370 

Hanover 6,588 15,789 

Stuttgart 4,136 10,446 

Bremen 6,304 14,843 



Cities. 1878. 1890. 

Dusseldorf 486 8,228 

Nuremberg 10,162 17,045 

Dantzig 114 3,525 

Strassburg 141 4,773 

Chemnitz 9,899 24,641 

Elberfeld-Barmen .. 11,325 18,473 

Altona 11,662 19,533 

Stettin 914 7,759 

Aix-la-Chapelle 909 1,744 

Crefeld 467 3,030 

Brunswick 7,876 13,621 

Halle 1,046 12,808 

Lubeck 1,588 6,393 



Of the above cities, Berlin, Hamburg, Altona, Leipzig, Francfort and 



— 32 — 

Stettin were in a minor state of siege. In other districts, where the minor 
state of siege was also in force, the result was not less significant, as i^pean 
from the following figures: 

Districts. 1878. 1890. Districts. 1878. 1890. 

Niederbarnim 2,775 13,362 Lauenhurg 347 2,072 

Charlottenburg 4,763 19,169 Leipzig (rural) 11,253 30^127 

Potsdam-Spandau ? 3,977 Offenbach-on-Maine .. 5,557 10,343 

Harburg 1,763 6,860 Spremberg 1,242 6,610 

Ottensen-Pinneberg .. 5,453 10,820 

Nor was this all. A fact of still greater import remains to be noted. In 
1887 the Social-Democracy occupied the fifth place among the political parties 
of the Elmpire. It had now advanced to the first, leaving the Centrists (or 
Ultramontanes), who came next, 117,000 votes behind. The following compar- 
ative table shows the gains it had made in those three years at the expense of 
its various opponents: 

1890. 

Socialists 1,457.323 

Centrists (Ultramontanes) 1,340,719 

National Liberals 1.187,669 

German Liberals 1.167.764 

Crerman Conservatives 899,144 

Free Conservatives (Imperialists) 485,959 

Poles 246,773 

People's Party 147.570 

Guelphs 112,675 

Alsatians 101,156 

Anti-Semites 47,536 

Danes 13,672 



1887. 


Increase.Decreaae. 


763,128 


694,195 




1,516,222 




175,603 


1.677,979 




490,310 


973.104 


194,660 




1,147,200 




248,056 


736,389 




260,430 


219,973 


26,800 




88,818 


58,752 




112.827 




152 


233.973 




132,817 


11,593 


35,948 




12,360 


1,812 





Total vote 7,207,960 7,493,566 285,606 

The inconsistencies between the votes cast and the number of seats carried 
by each party were very striking. With proportional representation the So- 
cialists would have had 80 representatives in the Reichstag instead of 35; the 
Ultramontanes. 75 instead of 105; the National Liberals, 65 instead of 39; the 
German Liberals, 64 instead of 70; the German Conservatives, 49 instead of 69; 
the Imperialists, 27 instead of 22; the Poles, 13 instead of 16; the People's Party, 
8 instead of 10; the Guelphs, 6 instead of 10; the Alsatians, 5 instead of 13; the 
Anti-Semites, 2 instead of 4, and the Danes none instead of 1. 

On the 10th of March, 1890. Bismarck "received his sack.* 



»t 



We have thus dwelt at some length upon the twelve years' era of repression 
in Germany, because of the unique spectacle it aftords in the history of the 
class struggle — that is, in the real history of human progress; namely, the 
spectacle of a class-conscious proletariat, with every limb fettered and appar- 
ently impotent, steadily rising under a crushing weight of despotism by the 
mere force of its intelligent will, and without a violent blow forcing its way to 
freedom. The subsequent events, though not less important and instructlye, 
are better known and may (for the present) be reviewed briefly. 

No attempt was made in the new Reichstag to further prolong the law of 
exception, which expired on September 30, 1890. On that day imposing d«n- 
onstrations were held throughout Germany. In the districts where the state 



— 83 — 

of siege had until then been in force, the expelled agitators returned and were 
naturally the center of enthusiastic i^anifestations. On that day, also, the 
"Sozial-Demokrat," then published in Liondon, issued its last number. 

. A national congress was immediately called, and was held at Halle from 
the 12th to the 19th of October. It was the first that had met on German soil 
in twelve years. It was attended by 399 delegates from all the districts of 
Germany. Representatives of Socialist parties had also come from France, 
Belgium, England, Austria, Italy, Switzerland, Holland, Denmark, Sweden and 
Norway. The proceedings were opened by Liebknecht. The debates, which 
were all public, showed the most perfect accord in the serried ranks of that 
magnificent Social-Democracy upon all questions of principle and tactics. The 
financial report of Bebel, who had charge of the funds during the period of re- 
pression, showed a balance on hand of 171,820.90 marks (or about $43,000). 
The congress gave the party a new organization, in accordance with its new 
conditions of existence. The "Berliner Volksblatt," under the new name of 
"VorwHrts" (Forward) was made the central organ of the movement. 

The party press, which under the law of exception had been not only crip- 
pled and gagged but practically annihilated, rose from its ashes. In March, 
1891, there were already 27 dailies and 10 weeklies; 23 papers appearing three 
times, and 7 twice a week. There was also the "Neue Zeit," a magazine of 
scientific Socialism, appearing weekly, besides two satirical and illustrated 
sheets. The trade union movement, in perfect harmony with the political, 
was contributing its share of militant literature with 34 trade organs. 

It should not be imagined, however, that the "militants" had passed from 
a b^d of thorns to a bed of roses. There were in the penal code certain pro- 
visions, and there were on the bench certain interpreters of those provisions, 
that, taken together, were in themselves a fair substitute for the law of ex- 
ception and made the Socialist editors, the Socialist agitators, and all such free 
men, realize that they must from time to time pay dearly for such freedom as 
their party had gained. In the three years that followed the era of repression 
the German tribunals inflicted upon that giddy sort of people, who don't know 
liberty from licence, terms of imprisonment and fines respectively aggregating 
293 years and 70,000 marks. 

As to the famous "rescripts" of 1890, they became a part of ancient history 
together with the man that it had been their sole purpose to drive out of power. 
There was, of course, no "conference of governments," no national or inter- 
national "regulation of labor," no "limitation of the workday, and no intention 
to do aught but let well enough alone at all costs and all hazards, as was 
amply shown by the treatment of strikers on every occasion. Even in the im- 
perial workshops, on the State railways, in the post office, and in every public 
service where hopes of improvement had first been entertained, the condition of 
the workers was steadily getting worse. It became daily more apparent to 
some, who had not yet perceived it, that the "health, morality, welfare and 
equal rights" to which Little William had "rescripted" that the laboring class 
was entitled, were not in their nature imperial presents, but were things to be 
fought for every day, everywhere, by the laboring class itself. Determined to 
conquer, the Socialists advanced another step. And it was again a long step. 
At the parliamentary election of 1893 they polled 1,786,738 votes and elected 44 
deputies to the Reichstag. 

Since then, a number of local contests have taken place, with results 
showing in every case the steady growth of the party. 



— 34 — 

In 1894 the Socialists resolutely entered a campaign in the 6th parllamentr 
ary district of Schleswig-Holstein, where they held 147 public meetings and 
sent debaters to 40 other assemblages called by Liberals and Conseryatives. 
They carried the day by a handsome majority. They carried also the 23d dis- 
trict of Saxony. These two victories increased to 46 the number of Socialist 
deputies in the Reichstag. 

In 1895, owing to a combination of parties against them, they lost a seat 
at Lennep-Mettmann, although their vote was larger than in 1893 by more 
than 2,000. On the other hand, they gained one seat in the Dresden-Country 
district and one at Dortmund. In each of these two districts the Socialist vote 
surpassed the total vote of all the other parties. In that same year the Social- 
ists increased to 14 seats their representation in the Chamber of Saxony. 2 in 
the Chamber of Wurtemberg, and 3 in the Chamber of Baden. 

In 1896, they gained another seat in Halle, Saxony, which raised to 48 the 
number of Socialist representatives in the Reichstag. They - also increased 
considerably their representations in municipal councils. The national con- 
gress of the party, held at Hamburg, had to discuss a very important question 
of tactics, to wit: "Shall the Socialists of Prussia participate in the election^ 
for the Landtag (or Prussian Chamber) ?" The suffrage in these elections is re- 
stricted by property qualifications, which make it extremely difficult if not ab- 
solutely impossible for the Socialists to elect any candidate. Some delegates 
argued that by taking part in the contest the Socialists would, in fact, increase 
the chances of the Conservatives against the Liberals, thus enabling the Land- 
tag, elected by the limited suffrage of one State of the Empire, to pass laws for 
Prussia similar to the very law of exception which the Reichstag, elected by 
the universal suffrage of the whole Empire, had finally abandoned. Others held 
that the party could not place itself in the attitude of favoring the Liberals, 
whose political treachery was as much to be feared as the open hostility of the 
Conservatives. Finally, a resolution was adopted, declaring that the party 
should place candidates in the field wherever there might be any chance what" 
ever of success, but that it should strictly abstain from any alliance or com- 
promise with the other parties. 

In 1897 the party contested ten seats in the Reichstag that had become 
vacant. Three of these were formerly held by Socialists, two of whom (Schulze 
of Koenigsberg, and Grillenberg^ of Nuremberg) had died in the harness, 
and one (Joest, of Mainz) had resigned for private reasons. Owing again to a 
combination of parties, and although the Socialist vote was as large as in 
1893, the Mainz seat was lost. On the other hand, the Koenigsberg and Nurem* 
berg seats were preserved; the first by a majority of 696 votes over the total 
polled by the three other candidates, and the second by an increase of several 
thousands as compared with 1893. The loss of Mainz was made up by tltCLgaln 
of a new district at West Havelland, in Brandenburg. In all the other districts 
the Socialist vote showed a marked increase. The elections for the Landtage 
(or Diets) of several States gave excellent results, showing large gains of votes 
and seats. 

As we write, the general parliamentary elections of 1898 have just been 
held; 2,125,000 German Socialists have spoken at the polls and elected 56 
deputies. Great victories are also reported from France and Belgium. Mani- 
festly, Capitalism has run its course and the social revolution has been set 
down by the hand of Progress on the book of Fate as one of the earliest 
events of the Twentieth Century. 



SOCIALISM IN ITALY 



Cut up into small kingdoms and principalities, subject for many cen- 
turies to the invasion of powerful neighbors, ill-cultivated, deprived of 
manufacturing industry, declining in commerce, misruled by foreign and do- 
mestic despots, Italy, fifty years ago, had only one thought, one aspiration, 
namely, political unity and national independence. 

True, there were already in those days some large-hearted Italians whose 
intellectual horizon was not confined by a narrow patriotism; men who — 
like Garibaldi, for instance — had been enlisted by the Utopian Socialists of 
France in the cause of social emancipation. But such were few and as yet 
powerless. To free Italy from foreign domination, to make her at last one 
great political aggregate instead of the mere ''geographical expression" that 
she had been for ages, was of necessity the life-work of those men, who real- 
ized, however, that a national field would thus be opened, on which the 
class struggle would in future be carried on to its logical termination. 

On the other hand there were many, cold-blooded and calculating, whose 
mercantile interests demanded also that Italy be one. For such men, under 
such circumstances, freedom, humanity, patriotism, and even international- 
ism, were more than commendable sentiments ; they were convenient words 
and useful instruments. If a revolution was necessary to bring about the de- 
sired result, by all means let there be a revolution. Let the people be told, 
by sonae bold tribune and lavish promiser, of their shocking misery, and of 
the increased rewards for decreased toil that must surely follow the substitu- 
tion of an economical, peaceful, fatherly middle-class management for the 
wasteful, turbulent, arbitrary government of kings and emperors. In 1789, 
the French bourgeoisie had shown the way; nor had there been a lack of bold 
tribunes and grand revolutionists at that time, who, by stirring the wretched 
masses with vistas of happiness, upheaved the old despotism and established 
the new. 

In Mazzini— not, perhaps, as soon as he appeared, but soon after, when he 
had cast away, as more dangerous than useful, the dagger of the Carbonari — the 
Italian bourgeoisie recognized its man. 

Of course, he had first to gain the ear of the masses — to make himself a 
man of commanding popularity; which he did by borrowing the language of 
the most advanced Socialists of his time. Hear what he said in 1835: 

"Heretofore all revolutionary attempts failed because the leaders spoke 
to the people of national independence and political rights, forgetting that in 
its essence every revolution is social. Any new political regime is but the 
'form* of the social change that has taken place; and no man can rightfully 
call upon millions of his fellows to sacrifice peace and life without pre- 
senting to them a definite programme of collective improvement, both moral 
and economic." 

And what was the "definite programme" of Mazzini? We have it i\s^ 
the manifestoes of his secret societies, 'Young llaVs" ^.xi^ **^«^ ^>ax^^^V '^^^ 



— 36 — 

last of which aimed at nothing leBS than the International, Universal Republic. 
Hear again: 

"Workingmen, you are human beings, and, as such, have faculties not only 
physical, but intellectual and moral, which it is your duty to cultivate. ♦ ♦ ♦ 
It is plain that you must work less and earn more. Sons of God and brothers 
all, we are called upon to form one family. In that family there will al- 
ways be the inequalities intended by nature, but any one willing to work and 
thus contribute within his ability to the social welfare, shall receive a com- 
pensation that will enable him to develop and enjoy life in all its aspects. 
• • ♦ Property must be democratized. The wage system must disappear, and 
the workingman must receive the full value of the product of his labor." 

From such utterances it would be logical to conclude that Mazzini was 
ready to flght on the side of the proletariat along the natural lines of the 
class struggle, and therefore to comprise the bourgeoisie among the en- 
emies of the people. But in his addresses to the middle class he held 
another language, replete with friendly warnings and valuable advice. He 
called its attention to the popular discontent in France and in England, 
which frequently "manifested itself by violent outbreaks'* and still more omin- 
ously by the publication of newspapers and pamphlets "actually issued from 
the pens of bona-fide wage workers." His conclusion was suggestive: "Be- 
ware! Events are impending, and you may have to regret that you did not in 
time undertake to direct them. The laboring people are kindly; they will 
confidingly follow men of your class. On the day of their victory over our 
military rulers they may tell you: 'What have you done for us? Have we 
fought to merely conquer rights for you?* " 

In other words, "Make timely concessions, so that such men as I, issued 
from your class and devoted to your interests, may take the lead of the simple, 
trusting proletariat and cheat it out of the benefits of its dearly bought 
Tlctory." 

Could there have been any doubts as to the meaning of Mazzini's language 
and his true purpose, they would have been removed by his subsequent con- 
duct. In 1848, the Parisian proletariat expelled the French king and pro- 
claimed the Social Democratic Republic. It "confidingly" placed middle-class 
leaders at the head of the new government — a government which, according 
to Mazzini's expression quoted above, should have been the mere "form" of 
the social change intended by the revolution. But within less than four 
months the government shot down the Parisian proletariat and confiscated its 
revolution. Mazzini, who at that time was plotting the dethronement of the 
Catholic Pope and his own enthronement at Rome as the pope of the In- 
ternational Bourgeoisie, applauded the dastardly performance, approved its 
murderous features and bitterly denounced its victims. Again, in 1871, 
from a London boudoir overflowing with female aristocracy, Mazzini poured a 
torrent of insults upon the vanquished and bleeding Commune. 

Irony of fate! It was this very same French middle class republic which 
Mazzini had so warmly congratulated for its treachery to the proletariat that 
sent an army to Rome and expelled him. And it was chiefly by two em- 
perors, for the benefit of a king, that the national unity of Italy was 
achieved. Lastly, the patriotic forces, those to which, outside of the French 
and German emperors, Italy is indebted for being a nation — the only 
forces, in fact, to which she is indebted for being a self-conscious, progressive 
body — marched under the banner of Garibaldi, electrified by the Socialistic 



♦■ 



— 37 — 

spirit of universal solidarity that made him' the great man he was, and nerved 
to deeds of heroism by his Socialistic faith in the final triumph of humanity. 

During his dictatorship at Rome Mazzini had an opportunity of showing 
his true colors as a Social-economic reformer; and he did show them. He 
showed that he was simply, like the French revolutionists of 1789, a "Vol- 
tairean bourgeois'* (a middle-class deist), intent upon reinforcing his 
emancipated class against the wage-working proletariat by incorporating 
the peasantry into the bourgeoisie. Having confiscated the property of the 
Church, he turned into tenements the buildings formerly occupied by the 
priesthood and rented them to such of the Roman workmen or artisans who 
oould afford to pay,, in order, as he said, "to give an example of republican mo- 
rality." At the same time, he divided among the peasants the landed estates 
of the religious corporations, in the proportion of four acres of arable land 
and two acres of vineland for each agricultural family. Such was his con- 
ception of the "democratization of property" and of the "right of each 
worker to the full value of his product." 

Confiscated in France and side-tracked in Italy, the Social Revolution 
of 1848 disappeared under a wave of military despotism. The press was 
bridled, speech was muzzled, thought was stified, physical motion itself was 
placed under restraint, and a vent was given to the activities of the people by 
war and speculative enterprise. 

Of course, under such conditions, the propagation of economic truth was well 
nigh impossible. Not until the unity of Italy was an accomplished fact and 
all questions purely political had sunk into comparative insignificance, could 
the social problem command again in that country any degree of attention. 
It was at the congress of the International Workingmen's Association held 
at Lausanne in 1867 — or three years after the foundation of that body — that 
Italy was for the first time represented in its councils, and by one delegate 
only. 

Most unfortunately, the task of organizing the Italian movement was 
chiefiy assumed by the Russian Bakunin, whose cloudy notions of Socialism, 
nihilistic methods, imperious will and boundless ambition led to the develop- 
ment of a factitious opposition to Karl Marx. By nature, as it were, and long 
practice, Bakunin was a secret conspirator. With science to guide him at 
every step, Marx was an open agitator. The first insanely or dishonestly pro- 
fessed that a revolution by force, sweeping and destructive, "an unchain- 
ing of what we have been taught to call the bad passions,"* was the 
primary and immediate requirement of social regeneration. The second held 
It to be an established fact that education was the prerequisite of any social 
change, regardless of the means by which, according to circumstances, the 
change might subsequently happen to be effected, and that no attempt to 
emancipate a class could succeed until that class, fully enlightened, mentally 
clear, therefore, as to its aims, and conscious of its power, was ready to 
emancipate itself. 

Held as in a vise by the inexorable logic of this undeniable fact, Bakunin 
did not attempt to controvert it. On the contrary, in his programme of the 
"Revolutionary International Brothers" (section 10), he plainly admitted that 
"revolutions are not made by individuals, nor even by secret societies," 
but through the operation of forces that have long been at work until a trifiing 



* Programme of the Revolutionary International Brothers, Sec ^ 



— 38 — 

event may cause them to break out. Nevertheless, in flagrant contradic- 
tion of this fundamental statement, he straightway proceeded with 
his scheme of secret societies within each other — ^a scheme by the side 
of which Loyola's creation fades into nothingness, and the purpose of which 
was, in the words of that famous section 10, "to aid the birth of the revolu- 
tion by spreading among the masses ideas corresponding with their in- 
stincts, and to organize, not the army of the revolution — the army must al- 
ways be the people — but a sort of revolutionary staff, composed of devoted, 
energetic, intelligent individuals, sincere friends of the people, neither am- 
bitious nor conceited, and capable of being the intermediaries between the 
revolutionary idea and the popular instincts." 

As already stated, the "revplutidnary idea" wa« universal "destruction," and 
the "popular instincts" ^Hi^^ere' what we have been : taught to call the . bad 
passions." 

The "staff" was to be the absolutely secret body of not more than one 
hundred "Revolutionary International Brothers," men "who must have the 
devil in them" (le diable au corps)- and constituted into a "central section" of 
another society, half secret, half public, namely the "International Alliance," 
through which the great International Workingmen's Association founded by 
Karl Marx was to be captured and turned into the much needed "army," 
the rank and file, the fighting cattle. Of the "sincere friends of the people," 
the most "devoted, energetic, intelligent individual," the most "capable of being 
the intermediary between 'destruction* and *bad passions,* ** was unquestion- 
ably "Citizen B.** To him, therefore, the members of the Central Executive 
Board "delegated their powers*' and went to their respective homes with the 
devil in them. For (section 9) "this organization excludes all idea of dic- 
tature and tutelage; but, in order to secure the triumph of the revolution, it 
is necessary that in the midst of the popular anarchy from which the revo- 
lution will, derive its whole life and energy, unity of thought and action be 
obtained through an organ;" and although this indispensable organ was to 
be the "staff** above mentioned, any sort of a staff must have a general. 

With one stroke of his pen thus had Bakunin — the high priest of anarchy, 
the would-be destroyer, not merely of any concrete State in particular, but 
of the "State in the abstract'* (that is, as Marx observed, of a thing that does 
not exist) — constructed the pattern and laid the foundations of what was to be, 
in his own self-contradictory words (section 8), the "New and Revolutionary 
STATE.*' And at the head of that State, more infallible than the Pope, 
more absolute than the Tzar, was "Citizen B," safely enthroned at Geneva 
while his devil-possessed ("diable au corps") ministers were stirring the 
popular instincts, the "bad passions," m their respective circles of Inferno. . 

After several fruitless attempts on the part of the Alliance to be recognized 
by the International Workingmen's Association as an affiliated but autonom- 
ous body, Bakunin, on June 22, 1869, made to the General Council of the 
I. W. A. a formal declaration that the Alliance had dissolved itself and in- 
vited its organizations to convert themselves into Internationalist Sections. 
These were consequently admitted. But the declaration was a fraud. The secret 
organization had not been dissolved, and the "invisible Brothers" undertook 
to make themselves omnipresent. Nevertheless, at the Congress of Basle 
a few months later, Bakunin and his acolytes found themselves in a hopeless 
minority. 

By the nature of things, the field of action of the conspirators had from the 



— 39 — 

beginning been chiefly limited to Italy and Spain, and it remained mostly con- 
fined to those two countries. In selecting Italy for his first operations Baku- 
nin had evinced an amount and kind of acumen which obviously fitted him 
for his self-appointed task better, perhaps, than for any other that might 
have been assigned to him. This was, indeed, the classical land of conspir- 
acies without number and without results. . The necessary tools to work 
with could be found there in even greater abundance than the material 
to work upon. In a letter to Francisco Mora, of Madrid, dated April 5, 1872, 
he showed his keen appreciation of this fact. "Until now," he said, "not the in- 
stincts (the bad passions, of course), but the organization and the idea 
were what Italy was lacking in. Both are developing, so that Italy, next to 
Spain" (mark the well-directed flattery), "is perhaps the most revolutionary 
country at this time. There is here what is wanting elsewhere, namely, 
an ardent youth, energetic, without opportunity, without prospect, which 
despite its middle^elass parentage is not morally and intellectually worn 
out as is the middle-class youth of other nationalities. To-day it plunges head- 
long into the revolution, with the whole of our prograipme, the programme of 
the Alliance. Mazzini, our genial and powerful antagonist, is practically dead; 
the Mazzinian party is completely disorganized, and Garibaldi allows himself 
to be more and more carried away by that youth which has taken his name 
but goes, or, rather, runs infinitely farther than he does." 

Manifestly, it was "in correspondence with the instincts" of this middle- 
class youth that in his programme of the Alliance Bakunin had substituted the 
idea, "equalization oLthe classes," for the radically opposite idea, "abolition 
of the classes," in the programme of the International.* 

The great political events of 1870 — 71, namely, the Franco-German war, the 
fall of Napoleon III. and the Paris Commune, interrupted for a while the 
outward development of the confiict between the regular International 
forces and the Alliance. During that period, however, Bakunin and his fol- 
lowers secretly improved to their utmost the opportunities afforded by the 
revolutionary ferment of the times to extend the ramifications of their society 
in the Swiss Jura, in Italy, and in Spain. The existence of the Alliance 
in the latter country was publicly made known by some of its members in the 
spring of 1871, and, shortly after, a profound sensation was caused by the 
revelations of the Netschaieff trial at St. Petersburg. "For the first time in 
Russia the judicial proceedings in a political case were publicly conducted 
before a jury. The accused, men and women, eighty in number, with a few 
exceptions, were university students. From November, 1870, to July, 1871, 
they had been subjected in the dungeons of the St. Petersburg fortress 
to a treatment which had killed two of them and deprived several others of 
their reason. The charges against them were that they belonged to a secret so- 
ciety, which had usurped the name of the International Workingmen's Asso- 
ciation, and to which they had been affiliated by the emissary of a so-called 



• When in the early days of 1869, the Alliance submitted its programme to the General 
Council of the International and applied for admission, the latter replied (March 9) that it 
was not within its powers to pass judgment upon the scientific value of that programme, 
hut suggested that if the words "Abolition of the Classes," were substituted for the ex- 
pression. "Equalization of the Classes," there might be no obstacle to the conversion of the 
sections of the Alliance into International Sections; and it added: "If the dissolution of the 
Alliance and the merging of its sections into the International were decided upon, it 
would be necessary, in accordance with our by-laws, to give the General Council full 
information as to the seat and membership of each new section." 



— 40 — 

international revolutionary committee. The credential of this emissary, whose 
name was Netschaieff, bore a seal that purported to he the seal of the Inter- 
national and were signed 'Michael Bakunin/ He (Netschaieft) had used his 
victims in the commission of various swindles and had compelled several of 
them to aid him in the perpetration of a murder upon one of their own com- 
rades, after which he had disappeared." 

The International, whose noble object was a grand, open, comprehensive or- 
ganization of the proletariat into a class-conscious body, determined to 
achieve its emancipation by the force of its united numbers and the superior- 
ity of its collective intelligence, could not allow a few conspirators that it had 
repeatedly disowned and constantly held at arm's length, to thus recklessly, 
fraudulently and murderously compromise it in the estimation of all honest 
people. At the International Conference held in London in September, 1871, 
it was therefore resolved, upon the request of the General Council, to investi- 
gate the Alliance and the participation of Bakunin in the Netschaieff matter. 
The result of the investigation was submitted to the International Congress 
of the Hague in 1872, and Bakunin was expelled.** 

At that time the Social Democrats of Germany, firmly planted on scientific- 
ground, were advancing with rapid strides. At the first Parliamentary 
elections of the newly established Empire, held in 1871, they had already cast 
102,000 votes and elected one delegate to the Reichstag. In 1874, they cast 
over 351,000 votes and elected nine delegates. But in France a reign of terror 
and espionage had been instituted by the victorious reaction after the fall of 
the Commune. All the Socialist agitators of note or ability had been either 
shot, transported to penal colonies, or compelled to seek safety in exile. 
Among the overawed, persecuted, distracted masses of the French proletariat 
sentiments of hatred and hopes of revenge took precedence of calm study. 
Organization for mutual enlightenment or combined action of any sort was at 
any rate impossible. And so the country which, far more than Germany, 
Blight at that time have influenced the direction of the movement among its 
immediate neighbors,, was and would evidently, for a number of years, remain 
paralyzed. Under those conditions it was quite obvious to any thoughtful, 
cool-headed Socialist, that an effective reorganization of the international 
forces for any other purpose than disastrous insurrection was then impossi- 
ble and would largely depend in the future upon the steady progress of So- 
cialism in Germany, through which example and encouragement would be 
given to the rest of Europe. To announce the dissolution of the Inter- 
national Workingmen's Asociation would, of course, have been highly im- 
politic. The seat of its General Council was, therefore, transferred to New 
York, where little else was done than keep track of the course of events. 

Bakunin thus remained in practical control of the movement in Italy and 
Spain. But it was not, by any means, a labor movement. As stated by Benoit 
Malon, his lieutenants were few among the workingmen. "Malatesta, Zanar- 
delli, Papini, Chiarini, Giangrandi, Ferrara, Dondi, Bemardello, Ceretti, 
Paladino, Tucci, Curatolo, Guardino, Pistolesi, etc., were university students; 
Faggioli, Berton, Piccinini, Nabruzzi, Pezzi, Renzi, Tacchini, Ferrari, etc., 
were clerks. Cafiero was a rich land owner." Their chief occupation con- 



* An enlarged statement, signed by Karl Marx, Frederick Engels, Leo Frankel, E. 
Dupont, C. Le Moussu and Aug. Serralller, was published in 1873. The part relating to the 
Netchaieff affair is from the pen of Nicholas Outine. In the Appendix are the Programmes 
and by-laws of the Alliance and its various forms, public and secret. 



— 41 — 

sisted in philosophical disputes, occasionally supplemented by physical en- 
counters, with the Mazzinians, who, like themselves, sprang from that "ardent 
middle-class youth, without opportunity and without prospect," every in- 
dividual member of which looked to social chaos for his own opportunity. 
True, however, to the first rule laid down by their master, that "ideas must 
be spread among the masses corresponding with their instincts," and 
conceiving those instincts to be the "bad passions," they advocated destruc- 
tion, fomented riots and encouraged strikes with a sole view to disorder, 
regardless of the persecutions and sufferings to which the poor privates in 
their "army of the revolution" might consequently be subjected. Of the 
fundamental principles of social reconstruction they said nothing and would 
hear nothing. They professed, in fact, that they had none, and that there could 
not be any. One of them, who since then has learned much, and who now 
is as able an exponent of Socialism as he was then a muddle-headed anar- 
chist, wrote in an explanatory reply to the Paris "Bgalit6" (1878): "Of doc- 
trines we may say that we have but little. We are anarchists, that is all. 
We demand that every one be given the possibility of manifesting his wants 
and the means of satisfying them; in a word, we demand for every one the 
right to do as he pleases; and as this cannot be obtained without first de- 
stroying the present order, we are in favor of revolutionary action. In po- 
litical action we see the abandonment of the revolution." 

Such dim vistas of the opportunities of happiness that were "necessarily" 
to fiow from the destruction of the "State in the abstract," however pleasant to 
the middle-class "d6class6s," could not, of course, satisfy the concrete mind — or 
perverse "instincts" — of the wage-working "army." As the movement 
spread and a number of workingmen entered the sections, they began "to 
manifest their wants" in anticipation of the contemplated destruction, and to 
inquire as to the nature of the means of well-being which a mere declaration 
of their freedom "to do as they pleased" would "necessarily" afford. 
And they came to the conclusion that collectivism — the collective property of 
land, machinery and all the means of production and distribution — must be 
the basis of the new industrial order. 

It is true that in the very same article 2 of the programme of the 
Alliance, which originally contained the objectionable words "equalization of 
the classes," Bakunin had found it expedient to admit the "principle of col- 
lectivism," in accordance with the resolution adopted by the Brussels Con- 
gress of the International Workingmen's Association" in 1868. But this 
resolution had been passed over the strenuous opposition of the Proudhon- 
ian anarchists— or "mutuellists," as they and the Bakuninites styled them- 
selves. Its true meaning was constantly weakened by the slight considera- 
tion they gave it in their public utterances, or was actually perverted by 
their vague interpretations of it in their confusing references to "groups," "fed- 
erations of groups," "free associations," etc. 

Likewise it is true that in the same programme (article 5) Bakunin, by re- 
jecting "all such political action as would not have for its immediate and 
direct object the triumph of Labor over Capital," seemed not only to repudiate 
any compromise with reactionary parties, but to implicitly commend the 
formation of workingmen's parties, wherever practicable, for the purpose 
of independent political action at the ballot box, were it only as an aid to 
agitation in the pursuit of his exclusive aim — the destruction of t.\^A ^\s>x^> 
which, by the way, would have to be taken beloT^ \\. e.wsX^Xi^^Xii'!?^''^^^^- ^^^sv. 



— 42 — 

lie violently denounced this form of action, even in countries where it could 
be resorted to with considerable effect, and the bull-headed opposition made to 
it by his Italian followers was largely instrumental in preserving and consoli- 
dating the power of the Italian bourgeoisie. 

But, as already stated, the grip of Bakunin and his "ardent youth" upon 
the ''popular instincts" could not be indefinitely maintained. With the in- 
crease of the wage-working element in the membership of the Italian sections, 
the sound principles of 'International Socialism gradually emerged from 
loe fogs of anarchistic sophistry, and the demands for correspond- 
ing tactics grew louder every day. In Lombardy a Collectivist 
federation was formed. In presenting the report of the committee on 
platform and resolutions, Gnocchi-Viani said: "Insurrection alone cannot estab- 
lish a new civilization. Either Socialism is an abnormal inspiration, contrary 
to historic law, and in this case it must disappear, or, as. we firmly believe, it is 
a logical historic development, and therefore must survive. To secure its 
triumph all the practicable means at our command must be availed of/' In 
the platform itself the same views were expressed in different language, and 
among the suggested means was the organization and federation of labor 
unions, which the anarchists had never thought of, but which, later on and 
cuckoo-like, they would attempt to use as convenient nests for the hatching of 
their schemes by unsophisticated wag-tails. In striking contrast with the 
anarchistic "philosophy of misery" and "bad passions" was the declaration that 
''Socialism aims at the fulfilment of all the grand aspirations of universal man- 
kind, but the Socialist party must not neglect immediate wants, for its post of 
duty is anywhere a wrong cries for redress and a suffering for alleviation."* 

Bakunin died in 1876. In 1877, at the Congress of Ghent, his own Inter- 
national was split in twain, the Collectivists breaking away from the anarch- 
ists. At the same moment the Socialists of Germany were casting 493,447 votes 
ror their candidates. 

The time had not yet come, however, and was not to come for many years, 
when an indestructible organization of Socialist forces could be founded on a 
broad layer of class-conscious proletariat, suflaciently enlightened to clearly 
perceive the fundamental causes of its sufferings, the exact object of its aspira- 
tions and the direct line to the achievement of its purpose. The state of pro- 
found ignorance and deep misery in which the Italian masses had been pur- 
posely kept for centuries, was naturally productive of a morass-like placidity 
which could only be disturbed at the surface by great political commotions. 
The Anarchists, with all the wind at their command, had hardly caused a 
ripple of excitement concerning the social question, even in the higher strata, 
before Passanante's attempt' on the life of the king (November 16, 1878) gave 
the government an opportunity, which it improved wonderfully, of confound- 
ing in the same ostracism the antipodal methods and aims of Anarchism and 
Socialism; for it soon found that the Anarchistic "propaganda of the deed" 
naturally defeated its own purpose by frightening away the timorous masses, 
and was therefore dangerous only to the few individuals who at rare intervals 



* Likewise did iiobel say in 1891: "The deputies in Parliament should in nowise observe 
a strictly negative attitude, but should make every effort to win concessions in favor of 
the workers. Why have we always decided for this? Because every one in practical life 
knows that it would be a piece of stupidity if our party did not also voice the daily 
needs, the daily sorrows of the working classes and press for redress of the existing evils 
and for Improvement of prevalent conditions." 



— 43 — 

might be the victims of it; whereas Socialism, with its open and legal process 
of agitation, education and organization, would surely win over the oppressed, 
the disinherited, the Immense majority of the people, thus building up an irre- 
sistible power of numbers and intellect, before which would inevitably van- 
ish all the aristocratic and capitalistic institutions upon which the so-called 
social fabric was resting. 

Unlawfully deprived by the government of their right to organize politi- 
cally and economically on Socialistic principles, forbidden to hold their na- 
tional congress, which was to take place at Milan on the 10th of May, 1880, 
and otherwise hindered or persecuted in many ways, the Italian Socialists 
temporarily adopted another line of tactics. They had already initiated a 
movement for universal suffrage. This they determined to make for a time 
their only apparent or declared object and to agitate for it with their utmost 
vigor. If, ?wHh the aid of many disfranchised people who did not yet share 
their economic views — such as small middle class men, humble profession- 
als, poor peasants, etc. — they could compel the government to grant this de- 
mand, even with certain restrictions, not only their importance as a political 
factor outside of Parliament would be established, but they might have some 
chances of electing a few Socialists to the House of Representatives, who by 
their speeches and attitude in that body would most effectively carry on the very 
agitation which they were forbidden to attempt as an organized party. Their 
efforts in this direction were crowned with success. Twelve hundred societies, 
representing the various shades of opposition to the monarchy, sent delegates 
to a national congress, that was held at Rome in February, 1881, under the hon- 
orary presidency of Garibaldi. At this congress a resolution was enthusiasti- 
cally adopted, demanding "universal suffrage as a fundamental right of the 
people, which, first of all, must be asserted and enforced, in order that Italy 
may enter a new phase of national life, that will begin with the proclamation of 
the republic." 

The movement now assumed formidable proportions, and the government 
thought it best to yield while it could still exact better terms of capitulation 
than it might have been able to obtain later on. A franchise bill was passed in 
1882, full of restrictions, but largely extending the suffrage. The Italian So- 
cialist party then firmly stood up, took the field in its own name, sent out its 
agitators, consolidated and federated into provincial districts the sections 
which had hitherto maintained a separate and precarious existence, organized 
new ones, held public meetings under its own auspices, distributed pamphlets, 
issued newspapers, and generally developed a fertility of resources and a 
quickness of motion not less puzzling than distasteful to its surprised enemies. 
Time, however, and especially financial means, were wanting to sufficiently or- 
ganize before election day in 1883 more than thirteen electoral districts for the 
practical purpose of immediate political action. In those thirteen districts 
straight-out Socialist candidates were nominated. Two were elected. Of these 
two one was Andrea Costa, who in earlier days was a leading Anarchist, but 
had since then embraced Socialism with the fervor of an apostle and given 
ample proofs of his honest conversion; his abiflty was uncontested. 

The task of the two Socialist deputies was plain enough, although difiScult 
and exhausting to an extreme degree in a Parliament thoroughly controlled by 
capitalistic interests and overwhelmingly composed of unscrupulous politicians, 
equally lost to every sense of shame or honor. They had been V:asXx>a55XR^ Xs^ 
their constituents to take the oath of ofi&ce a& a. tsv^t^ lotxaaWc^*, V<^ «^:^«^«^^ 



— 44 — 

Socialism from the tribune of Parliament on every possible occasion; to criti- 
cize from the Socialistic standpoint all the important propositions that might 
come up for discussion, and especially those which, purporting to be in the in- 
terest of the laboring class, were merely intended as fraudulent baits to befool^ 
sidetrack and capture the wage-working voters, "for no honest social reform, 
can be expected from a government bound to maintain at all hazards the 
present dishonest system"; in brief, to preserve in all their acts and utterances 
the uncompromising attitude and unalterable hostility of the class-consciou& 
proletariat towards its oppressors. 

Incensed at the progress of the Socialists and realizing that their leader- 
ship in the labor movement of Italy — or rather their hope of leadership, for 
there never was a labor movement in the true sense of the term so long as they 
were at the front — was fast passing away, the Anarchists felt the necessity of 
immediately contriving some scheme of disorganization. Their chief spirits,. 
Malatesta and Cafiero, were hastily recalled from London. They had been 
there for some time engaged with some others in secret work of the usual Bak- 
uninite sort, having especially in view to hold together the shattered rem- 
nants of their Anarchistic International; for it was already possible to foresee 
that in a few years the labor movement, reorganized in various countries upon 
a more solid basis than at any previous time, would naturally reassume its in- 
ternational character; and it was of vital importance to the Anarchists, at this 
critical time, not only to check the advance of Socialism as a political power to 
which the masses would necessarily look more and more for immediate im- 
provement and final deliverance, but to secure in the corporative (or trade 
union) bodies, indebted for existence to Socialistic energy, a position and in- 
fiuence that would enable them to appear as the bona fide representatives of a 
great economic force at any international congress that the Socialists them- 
selves might later on deem it timely to call. For these very reasons Italy now 
claimed their special attention and peculiar talents. 

Immediately upon his return, Malatesta began a campaign of vilification 
and abuse against the Socialists, and more particularly against Costa, who, he 
said, by entering Parliament had made the labor party a "legitimate" one, and 
had thus "betrayed it to the bourgeoisie." Conveniently ignoring, or dismiss- 
ing as of no value, the above mentioned instructions of the party to its deputies,, 
he now advocated the theory of trade-unionism pure and simple, incessant war 
to the knife in the economic field, and absolute abstention from participation in 
electoral campaigns, on the ground that they were "necessarily corruptive."^ 
The violence of his language— not, of course in so far as it related to the So- 
cialists, for the government was only too glad to thus see them assailed at labor 
meetings, but In regard to the ruling classes and the government itself— soon 
caused his arrest, followed by police, searches in various cities and the dis- 
covery of several secret Anarchistic groups, recently formed to carry out the 
London programme. Malatesta was thereupon tried by a Roman tribunal and 
sentenced to several years of imprisonment. 

Yet, none were more sorry for his mishap than the Socialists themselves,^ 
who claimed for everybody the absolute right of free speech. In their extreme 
respect for this right they allowed such as Malatesta to take the fioor in their 
sections, to become members and officers of their economic organizations, and 
generally to "participate" with them In the work of awakening the proletariat, 
relying entirely upon the teachings of events and the correctness of their own 
position to win over to their viewsr-as in the case, for Instance, of Andrea 



i 



— 45 — 

Costa — men who might be mistaken in certain fundamentals of doctrine and 
tactics, but were earnest enough to incur any risk in the advocacy of liberty. 
True, their own cause had seriously suffered from their loose connection and 
constant disputes with the Anarchists. On repeated occasicms they had found 
it necessary to draw a sharp line of separation. But the tendency always was 
to relax into leniency, especially in times of persecution. The opposition of 
the more experienced to further intercourse with a body of men that they had 
good cause to consider as implacable enemies, ambitious schemers for the most 
part, and the greatest obstacle to a comprehensive massing and moving of the 
labor forces, was but feebly sustained by the general membership. This was 
largely composed of new recruits, who were not yet educated to the point of 
clearly discerning the radical difference between "Anarchistic Communism," 
so-called, and true Collectivism, or Socialism. Some of them were even apt to 
be misled by the Anarchists Into the belief that the opposition of the Socialist 
"leaders" was induced by personal considerations and ambitious designs. Such 
a state of affairs was eminently calculated to perpetuate the popular notion, in- 
dustriously cultivated by the capitalist press and politicians, that Socialism 
and Anarchism were synonymous terms. As already stated, the government, in 
so f-ar at least as its higher officials were concerned, knew exactly the breadth of 
the chasm that separated the two movements and the wide divergence of the 
lines along which they were respectively running. But since it had felt the 
power of the Socialists in the political field, it was the more anxious to identify 
them with the Anarchists in every public disturbance or riotous proceeding 
instigated by the latter, and to thus improve every opportunity of again using 
its police and judiciary to harass, defame and persecute them. On the other 
hand, the Anarchists availed themselves of every persecution to deride the So- 
cialist tactics of Independent political action at the ballot box and to preach 
revolution by the force of arms. 

It would be tedious and profitless to follow in its turbulent operation the 
destructive policy of the Anarchists from 1884 to 1890. We must also leave to 
some other historian the sad and thankless task of recording the petty quarrels 
of puny leaders in small and Impotent labor organizations, and the consequent 
aimlessness of the labor movement during that period. All this and more we 
can readily imagine from our similar experience in the United States on a far 
larger scale. Unwillingly dragged into conflicts productive of nothing but in- 
tense suffering among the workers, the Socialists never lost hope; they kept in 
close contact with their fellow sufferers, educating them and confidently look- 
ing to the day when under the irresistible pressure of International Socialism 
order would spring from chaos in the ranks of the Italian proletariat. 

To them it was obvious that this day could not be far distant. And it was, 
indeed, surely coming. The great victory of the German Social-Democrats in 
1884 had been followed in 1885 by a suggestive awakening in France and 
Belgium. Austria was also moving. Then came the international congresses 
of Paris in 1889, resulting in the institution of May Day. This was turned by 
the Italian Socialists into a powerful means of propaganda. Under their lead 
the corporative (or trade union) movement developed more comprehensively 
and freed itself to a great extent from Anarchistic influences and notions. Fin- 
ally, in 1891, the International Congress of Brussels, by emphatically repudiat- 
ing the Anarchists and even sternly refusing seats to those among them who 
claimed that they held credentials from bona fide "corporative groups," gave 
the Italian Socialists the endorsement, prestige and power which they had so 



— 46 — ,» 



' »• 



Jong needed to overcome the paralyzing effects of Anarchistic opposition. In 
that same year they held at Milan a national congress of the labor ][>odie8» 
which recognized the equal necessity of economic and political action, and the 
"Italian Workingmen's party" was founded on the double basis of trade union- 
ism and political organization, "with a view to the conquest of the public 
powers by a simultaneous movement of the labor forces along the two natural 
lines of the class struggle." The work thus auspiciously begun at Milan was 
perfected at Genoa in 1892, and the young party, full of hope and vigor, reso- 
lutely entered the electoral campaign of that year, casting 27,000 votes fdr the 
few candidates it had been able to place in the field and electing five representa- 
tives to Parliament. 

I From this moment the progress of the party was so rapid that at the Con- 
gress of Reggio-Emill in September, 1893, nearly 300 labor federations and 
local unions were represented. No one, but the best informed within the party 
itself, expected such a display of strength. The surprise it caused among the 
ruling classes could not well be disguised in the respectful comments of the 
government and capitalist organs upon the dignity of the Congress and the 
practical character of its proceedings. On the other hand, its moral effect 
upon the delegates was in nothing more apparent than in the enthusiasm with 
which they swept away all verbal vestiges of previous timidity, by adding the 
word "Socialist" to the name of the party, which thenceforth was to be known 
as the "Italian Socialist Labor party" They had no cause to regret their bold- 
ness; for on the day of adjournment, ten thousand peasants rushed from all 
parts of the Emilian province to the town, assembled on the great public square, 
greeted the Socialist speakers with the most emphatic demonstrations of ap- 
proval, fraternized with the delegates and returned to their homes determined 
to stand at all times under the banner of Socialism. And theirs was not an 
idle promise, forgotten as soon as given; through good and bad report those 
poor peasants of Emilia have ever since remained faithful ; it is by the Social- 
ist Prampolini that they are represented in Parliament. 

Nor was this movement of the peasants confined to one province. It soon 
extended to many parts of the Italian peninsula and spread like wild fire -too 
much, indeed, like wild fire — in the island of Sicily. 

From time immemorial Sicily has been a standard land of misery and 
martyrdom for the rural proletariat. In this respect it casts Ireland far into 
the shade. Its very fertility, unsurpassed anywhere, has always proved its 
curse. To this day the ancient Roman "latifundium" (or private estate of colos- 
sal dimensions) is the basis of its economic system. Upon the old trunk, how- 
ever, is now grafted the Manchesterian capitalistic device of "free labor," but 
without its American bonanza farm adjunct of highly improved machinery and 
consequent free trampism. The fruit of this anachronic growth has been a 
monstrous form of human slavery, which yields princely incomes to land grab- 
bers, handsome pickings to usurers, and large revenues to the government. 
From a soil so rich that the least labor is requited by nature with regal sub- 
sistence, armies of small tenants, chained by contract, working their every 
muscle and their very soul into vapor, eke out for themselves famine and 
squalor. Over and above the crust of bread upon which these human beasts of 
draft and burden are allowed to feed, what is not appropriated by the idle land- 
owner is promptly carried away by the busiest vermin of the whole island, 
namely, the tax-collector. 

Sicily is also — as such a hell should be — the land of earthquakes and brim- 



— 47 — 

stone. Under its surface, plunged in physical and intellectual darkness, thou- 
sands of pariahs of both sexes and all ages are digging out sulphur for the en- 
richment of British capitalists. A number of them, by the way, are of Cornish 
descent, their fathers having been sent from civilized England to teach the 
ignorant Sicilian laborers^-and incidentally their own Sicilianized children— 
the art of turning Inferno itself into surplus value by the process of starvation, 
tt was among these poor people, in this lowest substratum of proletarian mis- 
ery, that the "Fasci Operal" (labor unions) first undertook to organize resist- 
ance. The Fasci established at Palermo a central committee for the island of 
Sicily. Under the auspices and management of this active body a congress of 
the sulphur miners was held at Grotte, which resulted in a public exposure of 
their scandalous treatment, and in the adoption of a programme of action 
looking to the immediate improvement of their condition. A small increase of 
their wages followed, and some of the most revolting abuses to which they had 
so long been compelled to submit were at last abolished. 

The Central Committee then turned its attention to the peasants. A con- 
gress of their class was held at Corleone, and a strong organization was 
effected, through which their general demand for a modification of the bar- 
barous contracts imposed upon tenants by landowners was successfully en- 
forced. 1 

There were, however, many other grievances, individual and collective, 
which could not be redressed or suppressed but by a radical change of system., 
Some of these, especially, were in their nature and in the petty conflicts which 
they frequently provoked, such as to give the Socialists much anxiety. Evi- 
dently, the disinherited peasants, who could not yet grasp the fundamental 
truths of Socialism, were apt to be sidetracked at any time, by their intense 
desire for immediate betterment, into some agrarian movement of a middle 
class tendency and anarchistic character. 

The Italian government itself — unwittingly but none the less effectively — 
had on a previous occasion supplied all the elements by the natural action of 
which such a movement would some day be rendered inevitable unless the So- 
cialists could get in time suflacient influence to properly direct the mounting 
wave of public indignation. Aware of the deep discontent that pervaded the 
Sicilian peasantry, and deriving but little income from the Crown's domains, 
the royal authorities had hit upon a plan calculated, in their opinion, to win 
back the affections of the landless by a public distribution of the demesnial 
lands, while at the same time increasing by adequate taxation the royal rev- 
enues. As might have been expected the proletarian riffraff was little ben- 
efited by this right royally fraudulent generosity. The great landowners and 
the usurers managed in the end to elbow out the poor claimants, who, when 
they became uncomfortably pressing, or perchance disrespectfully boisterous, 
were given free board at their fellows* expense in a royal prison. 

As the increased and constantly increasing amount of taxation was shifted 
by the land owners from their own shoulders upon the shoulders of 
their tenants, the latter became more and more desperate; not so much 
against the system, which the Socialists were now endeavoring to make them 
understand, as against the tax collector, who, clad in royal authority, had 
every possible means of making himself understood. Hence, here and there, 
vain resistance on one side and display of overwhelming force on the other. 
Every such conflict between a peasant and a fiscal agent was, of course, offi- 
cially magnified into a riot and perversely heralded as an evidence of wide- 



— 48 — 

spread rebellion, ''fomented by the Fasci." In fact, the fomenters— in so for 
as there were any, and as was conclusively proved later on by the radical- 
socialist deputy Colajanni — were the h^gh officers of the fisc and the great land- 
pwners themselves, who longed for an opportunity of terrorizing the claim- 
ants and all other dissatisfied persons into silence and submission; whereas the 
Fasci, for the obvious reasons already stated, not only discountenanced any 
private act, but firmly opposed any public manifestation calculated to provoke 
disorder; their aim being to organize the whole rural« urban and mining pro- 
letariat into a compact, clear-minded, self-controlled body, which in the con- 
sciousness of its political strength could not be driven into a wasting uf Its 
forces by premature revolt. 

The policy of the ruling classes was therefore twofold. For the accom- 
plishment of their object the peasantry had first to be cured of its grievances 
by such summary treatment as the military alone could effectively apply, and 
the Socialist Liabor Party was to be so crippled that it could not continue its 
legal, peaceful, but most dreaded work of organization. 

The men then in power as Ministers did not, however, possess the amount 
of reckless impudence and murderous energy required to carry out such a pro- 
gramme. They were weak politicians, selected for their comparative "honesty** 
at a time when Colajanni, by laying bare at the tribune of Parliament the 
Banca Romana scandal (paralleled only by the French Panama and the Amer- 
ican Pacific Railways in the history of political corruption), had shaken the 
government to its foundations. The old danger line had safely been passed. 
Another danger, far more serious, was now threatening. Men of negative qual- 
ities were here out of place. A true capitalistic leader, a man of positive vices 
and inborn vlclousness, was now needed. Such a man was Crispi. 

That this man had already, some years before, been hurled from power by 
the scandal of "his triple bigamy"; that "he was, by temperament, a chief of 
bandits, a lustful scamp, and as much of a liar as any ten prostitutes could be"; 
that he might "unscrupulously do anything, even good, in the attainment of 
his object"; that money was his faith and corruption his element; all this and 
more that was well known of him commended him highly for the unique work 
of saving a class which he more completely portrayed in his own person and in 
its worst features than any other Italian "statesman" of his day. 

It was at the end of 1893 that Crispi took the reins of government. The 
Parliament was not in session. The state of siege was immediately proclaimed 
in Sicily; also in the Carrara district of the province of Tuscany, where the 
marble quarrymen, tired of starvation wages, had been parading through their 
own dilapidated villages with a flag upon which was embroidered the upper 
shoot of a Carrara pine; innocent emblem, probably, of the readiness with 
which they, strong men, had until then Dent to the will of their masters. 

Those of us in America who at that time learned from the capitalist press 
that there was a terrible rebellion raging in Sicily, instigated and engineered 
by Socialists, will now be surprised at the following statement. On the cap- 
italist side two men fell; one of them a soldier, who was threatening death to 
everybody; the other an official, praBtor of Gibellina, esteemed by tne people 
and shot by mistake while attempting to restrain the soldiery. On the pro- 
letarian side, ninety-two unarmed citizens were killed, and a large but un- 
known number of others were more or less severely wounded. The "bands of 
rebels," so-called, were unoffensive processions of men and women, carrying 



— 49 — 

the portraits of the King and the Queen between Italian flags. They were fired 
upon as soon as thciy made their appearance. 

The Fasci were dissolved by the authorities and their officers were thrown 
Into prison. One thousand persons, men and women, charged with or simply 
suspected of participating in proceedings which had been legally and openly 
held before the state of siege, were arrested by the police, and tried by court 
martials. Ten, twelve, twenty years* sentences fell as thick and quick frony 
the dry lips of martial presidents as hailstones in an April shower. "The mil- 
itary tribunals of Sicily alone," writes Colajanni, "dispensed about 5,000 years 
of imprisonment to peasants who protested against famine in the midst of the 
superabundance which they had produced, and to young men guilty of a gen- 
erous Socialist propaganda." 

For all these atrocities Crispi asked Parliament, on the reopening of the 
Chambers, for a bill of indemnity; in support of which he read forged docu- 
ments, such as incendiary appeals to rebellion, and anonymous communica- 
tions to the police, which refused to make their authors known on the plea of 
professional secrecy. Interpellated by Prampolini, the "great minister" de- 
clared himself responsible for the genuineness of all those documents. They 
were signed; "very much signed"; and he had "something better in his port- 
folio, which he would not read out of compassion for the prisoners." The value 
of all this evidence may be Inferred from the famous "Treaty of Bisacquino," 
so named from the town where resided the police agent that supplied his em- 
ployers with this remarkable product of modern invention. By this "treaty" it 
was undertaken to show that the members of the central committee of the 
Fasci, in league with certain eminent Sicilians (including the deputy Colajanni) 
had entered into a compact with BVance and England to dismember Italy by 
separating Sicily from her and delivering an Italian port to Russia! O patriot- 
ism! What traitors those Socialists be! 

And now came the Anarchists. They always come at the right moment; 
when a government is sorely in need of a "propaganda of the deed" to prop up 
its shaky structure of despotism. Explosions in Spain and Paris! The poniard 
of Caserio — an Italian, mark well! Europe is in a tremor. Italy — Crispi must 
have "laws of exception." 

These laws, nominally made against the Anarchists, who, in Crispins own 
words, "have no party," are, of course, mercilessly applied to the Socialists, 
who have a party. And that the Socialists may the more surely, the more 
legally, fall under the operation of the law, their party is dissolved by a stroke 
of Crispi's pen. 

On the 22d of October, 1894, every known Socialist receives the visit of a 
police agent; his house is searched, his papers are taken, his person is jailed. 
Not one militant escapes, even among the most obscure. 

For more than a year the tribunals of Italy were almost exclusively en- 
gaged in trying or rather sentencing Socialists. In nearly every case the re- 
markable ground taken by the courts was substantially as follows: "It is 
granted that the Socialist party antagonizes anarchism and deprecates violence; 
that its aim is to gain possession of the public powers by the legal means of 
peaceful propagand and electoral action; but whereas its object is to make 
in the existing institutions, when it shall have become a majority, certain 
fundamental changes which the minority will undoubtedly resist by the force 
of arms, the Socialists are guilty in fact, if not in theory, of such schemes 
against the public peace as it is the intent of the present le.^ ^^ ^^-e^^^ %:s^^ 



— 50 — 

punish." Never had the peculiar logic of cunservatism ventured so far in 
the advocacy and enforcement of complete social immobility. 

There were a few magistrates— let it be said to their lasting honor — 
conscientious and brave enough to acquit the defenceless victims arraigned be- 
iore them. But such bold men were promptly made to Xeel ithe anger of the 
Ministry by being transferred to inferior seats and practically exiled from the 
pleasant homes which they had until then enjoyed among relatives and 
friends. So recklessly shameless did Crispi become, that, to the astonishment 
of his own servile followers, he openly rebuked in Parliament an eminent 
Judge of the Court of Appeals, who was also a deputy, for having dared to 
render a judgment setting free the Socialists of Florence. 

But this prostitution of the forms of justice was not by any means the 
most revolting feature of the persecution. In direct violation of the constitu- 
tion, which expressly forbids the substitution of special commissions for the 
ordinary tribunals, the Crispian "law of exception" conferred upon the admin- 
istrative powers — that is, upon the police — the right to arrest any person 
suspected of anarchism, to try him secretly, and to inflict upon him a certain 
punishment, unsurpassed in cruelty by Siberian exile but mildly termed "com- 
pulsory residence" by the Crispian legislator. Under that provision not only 
hundreds of Anarchists — including the most purely theoretical — but many So- 
cialists were abducted and transported to lonely rocks in the Mediterranean. 

It looked for a while as if the party, deprived of all its known agitators 
and workers, and thus apparently decapitated and dismembered, had been 
actually swept out of existence. Experience, however, had already shown 
elsewhere that the underground development of Socialism can in no way be 
better promoted than by the Bismarckian process of cutting down its outward 
growth. For every visible shoot that is thus suppressed, numbers of invisible 
offsets expand below the surface, each of them capable of sending out a vigor- 
ous stem at the proper time. The watchful police was soon startled, not by 
mere rumors, but by deflnite information concerning certain regional con- 
gresses, to be held by Socialists on certain dates and at certain places, pre- 
paratory to a national reorganization. Its agents were duly on hand, supported 
by the military, but to no purpose. On every occasion they learned a few days 
later that the congress had met elsewhere. Thus was finally held, on Janu- 
ary 13, 1895, the national congress of Parma, which, at the very climax of 
Crispian persecution, reorganized the party, appointed a central committee, 
planned a vigorous agitation, and determined to immediately enter the po- 
litical field in view of the general parliamentary elections to be held in the 
same year. As the formation of local sections was not advisable, because 
their meetings could not have readily escaped police detection, membership 
was provided by direct afiiliation with the central committee. There was in 
this a great advantage under the prevailing circumstances; for, although the 
membership could not thus be as great as it would otherwise have been, each 
member became a direct, active and responsible agent of the party — a true 
"militant." 

A certain amount of freedom had to be allowed during the campaign. Meet- 
ings purely Socialistic might under one pretext or another have been pre- 
vented or dispersed. Other meetings, however, called by Liberals, for instance, 
and largely attended by all classes of people, could not so well be interfered 
with. From the utterances of the speakers and the temper of their audiences 
Crispi soon realized the intensity of the hatred harbored in the public breast 



— 51 — 

for h|8 odious person and infamous government. He then resorted to desperate 
schemes, which he carried out with his usual audacity. First, he ordered a 
general revision of the electoral lists. Through the ingenuity of his henchmen 
in the performance of that task he thus rid himself of nearly one-third of the 
total number of qualified voters, which already before did not exceed one-tenth 
of the total population. Among the citizens who were thus summarily disfran- 
chised were men who had filled ofiicial positions — ex-mayors, ex-councilmBn^ 
etc.— and even some university professors, struck out for illiteracy. In certain 
communes, permeated with Socialism, the number entitled to vote was reduced 
to less than the number to be elected. Lastly, on the eve of election, arrests 
**en masse" were made, not only to prevent from voting those who were ar- 
rested, but to intimidate and keep away from the polls their friends or sympa- 
thizers. 

In the face of all that the Socialists cast over 76,000 vptes for their candi- 
dates and elected twelve deputies. 

In the eighteen months of ceaseless persecution to which they had been 
subjected, they had nearly trebled their visible strength at the ballot box and 
increased their representation in Parliament from 5 to 12 members. They had 
become an active, growing, disquieting political factor in 177 of the 508 parlia- 
mentary districts of Italy. 

Among their successful candidates were Giuseppe Di Felice, Dr. Barbato 
and Garibaldi Bosco. Di Felice had been sentenced by the Sicilian tribunals to 
eighteen years' imprisonment; Barbato and Bosco to twelve years. By the same 
judgment they had also lost their civic rights. Upon this ground their election 
was annulled by the Chamber. A few months later, their respective constit- 
uents re-elected them, and the government, brought to bay by the evident de- 
termination of the people to re-elect them indefinitely, released them from the 
dungeon in which Crispi had intended them to die. They were received at 
Ron^e with the wildest demonstrations of enthusiasm. 

Not less significant was the election at Reggio-Emile, by an overwhelm- 
ing majority, of the schoolmaster Italo Salsi, who had been sentenced to two 
years of "compulsory residence." 

In accordance with the traditional policy of every tyrant, Crispi, in his 
game with the people, had played the patriotic card. He had sent an army to 
Abyssinia. There was a Greater Britain; there would also be a Greater Italy. 
Ave Caesar I What? Crispi a Caesar? And why not? Had not Napoleon-the- 
Little attempted to be one? And see to-day William-the-Fussy designing for 
his noble brow a Chinese crown! We need not dwell here upon this African 
venture; the outcome of it is still fresh in the minds of all. King Meneleck and 
his dark-visaged warriors annihilated the Italian army; annihilated in the 
same breath the speculative schemes of Italian capitalists. And Crispi disap- 
peared in a whirlwind of popular fury. 

The Rudinians rose into power. A fine set of hypocrites with their "Honest" 
Ministry, to distinguish them, by a mere adjective, from the "dishonest" Cris- 
pians. True, they began with an amnesty, freeing the popular men whom it was 
now dangerous to keep entombed, but double-locking in jail the obscure ones 
whose unpardonable offense had been to protest against thje imprisonment. of 
their more prominent comrades. A first betraying, this, of the capitalistic claw 
under the velvet glove; and more of that claw was seen, and felt also, on short 
notice. For they did not believe in the "class struggle," those good Rudinians; 
and they "would not permit any such thing to exist." Therefore, they would 



— 52 — 

not allow the reorganization of trade unions in Sicily; nor would they on any 
account restore to freedom the men that the Crlsplan storm had cast on lonely 
rocks in the Mediterranean. There is, there must he, "no class struggle;" in 
other words, "our class" must rule, and its rule must he uncontested. 

More time passed, and the class struggle went on, all the Rudinians to the 
contrary notwithstanding. And when the time came, in the spring of 1897, for 
another parliamentary election, the class struggle had progressed so far that 
the Socialists nearly doubled their vote of 1895, as may be seen from the fol- 
lowing comparative table, which shows the number of suffrages received by 
their candidates in each province of Italy and in each of the two years named: 

Provinces. 1895. 1897. 

Piedmont 8,847 29,925 

Ldguria 3,521 6,759 

Lombardy 20,667 28,043 

Venice 6,245 12,476 

Emilia 9,099 12,878 

Romagna 8,627 10,882 

Tuscany 9,102 11,969 

Marches 852 4,250 

Umbria 559 4,308 

Latium 1,645 2,418 

Abruzzo 1,154 

Campania 1,383 2,893 

Pouille 498 2,106 

Basilicata 48 .... 

Calabria 2,258 

Sicily 5,255 1,295 

Sardinia 52 882 

Total 76.400 134,496 

The above figures speak for themselves. They show an enormous increase 
in all the provinces except Sicily, where the marked falling off, readily ex- 
plainable, is not less instructive than the great rise in Piedmont. 

As regards Sicily, it has been sufficiently shown in the preceding pages 
that the movement there never was fully controlled by the Socialists, who 
soon found themselves overrun by the middle class proprietary instincts and 
anarchistic impulses of the peasantry. The vote given by Sicily to their candi- 
dates in 1895 was merely a protest against the treatment which Crispi had just 
inflicted upon that miserable province. With the advent of the Rudinians to 
power the Socialists had not been permitted to resume their work of organiza- 
tion and education on the well guarded island; but all the fraudulent arts of 
capitalistic politicians, including the bribery of some influential peasants, false 
promises of redress to others and hypocritical professions of commiseration for 
all, had been used to win back the disaffected. Under those exceptional cir- 
cumstances the fact that the Socialists, far from being swept out of sight in 
1897, preserved one-quarter of their vote of 1895, was indeed a victory, and ac- 
tually caused much disappointment to their opponents. During their brief 
period of unchecked activity they had evidently planted in Sicilian soil a seed 
which no amount of capitalistic tearing up could now prevent from growing 
and spreading. 

As to Piedmont, whose vote increased from less than 9,000 to nearly 30,000 



— 53 — 

— thereby suddenly passing Lombardy, which had been the cradle and strong- 
hold of Italian Socialism — it should be stated that the value and significance of 
the progress achieved there in so short a time are even greater than the figures 
indicate. The political standing of Piedmont in the Italian aggregate and the 
character of its population must be considered. The Piedmontese are not an 
enthusiastic people; they are calm, thoughtful and persevering. It was 
chiefly, almost exclusively by their arms and their diplomacy that the unity of 
Italy was accomplished; and it was their King who became the King of Italy. 
To the bellicose and valiant House of Savoy, which ruled over them for cen- 
turies, and to which the King belonged, they were deeply attached. Regret- 
fully, yet dutifully, patriotically, they submitted to the transfer of the seat of 
empire from Turin, their old capital, to the more dazzling Rome, thereby losing 
without a murmur all the pecuniary and other advantages which, under the 
existing system, naturally accrue to the population of a metropolis from the 
residence of a great monarch in its midst. Their best wishes had accompanied 
Victor Emmanuel to the "Eternal City," with every reciprocal assurance that 
Turin would forever remain his loving and beloved town. Fond of freedom, 
but checked by tradition, they had never looked for political and social im- 
provement beyond the limited possibilities afforded by constitutional monarchy. 
Mazzini's "democracy" had never appealed to their feelings or reason. The 
notion that a bourgeois republic would be better in any respect than what they 
had, could never effect a lodgment in their sober brains. Among such people 
Socialism, no matter the rate at which it suddenly grew, cannot therefore have 
been a mushroom growth. It must have appealed to their cool judgment and 
clear understanding. And it did so appeal to such an extent that of the five 
seats to which the King's own Turin was entitled in Parliament, the Socialists 
carried two outright. There was a tremor all along the Apennines and a shiver 
through the royal backbone, when this great event was proclaimed. 

Of course, in many districts where the Socialist vote increased most re- 
markably a majority was not yet obtained. In some of them also a greater 
number of suffrages than formerly was required to elect a Socialist, because of 
the union of conservative forces previously divided. Therefore, with a vote 
nearly twice as large as in 1895, the Socialists added only three deputies to 
their Parliamentary representation, which is now fifteen as against twelve be- 
fore the last election. But this is of no actual moment at the present time, 
fifteen being as good as twenty-four for the practical purposes of Socialistic 
agitation within and without the Chamber; that is, for the only possible pur- 
pose until a majority of the people are intellectually ready for the Social Revo- 
lution. 

Lastly, it should be observed that the visible rate of growth, wonderful as 
it seems, is much less than the actual. The electoral body, as cut down by 
Crispins revision, represented only 7 per cent, of the total population, instead of 
the 20 per cent, which it should be under complete universal suffrage. Nearly 
all the disfranchised are poor men, who for the most part would have to be 
counted for Socialism, and will at no distant day be so counted, whether it 
pleases or not the ruling classes. 

"Italia fara da se." And by Italy is meant this time, not the padrone class 
for the benefit of which her children have lavishly shed their blood in the 
achievement of her political unity, but the whole Italian proletariat, contrib- 
uting by its own emancipation to the enfranchisement of all the nations and 
all the races of men. 



— 54 — 

The last national congress of the Italian Socialist party was held at Bol- 
ogna in September, 1897. Prom the report of the Executive Committee it ap- 
peared that in the previous twelve months the number of Sections had in- 
creased from 442 to 623; the number of members in good standing from 19,121 
to 27,281; the number of Socialist papers, from 27 to 46. 

'. The report of the parliamentary group shows that in Parliament the So- 
cialist deputies had during the session asked 43 questions and made 11 \nt»T- 
piellations. Outside of Parliament they had in the year tinder review delivered 
470 speeches, besides attending and addressing 75 meetings held for the pur- 
pose of organizing the railroad employees. No wonder that the Prime Minister 
deemed it necessary to publicly impress upon his supporters, as an example 
which they should follow, "the indefatigable activity and feverish ardor of the 
Socialist representatives." 

The congress authorized the holding of a national conference of the So- 
cialist municipal officers for the purpose of elaborating a municipal programme 
and securing uniformity of action in communal affairs. 

As regards the "Minimum Programme" of the party, which consists in de- 
mands for the immediate betterment of the working classes, the congress de- 
clared that the reforms therein mentioned are not and should not be under any 
circumstances advocated as final solutions; that they are presented as mere 
palliatives; that in agitating for such measures the real aim and sole remedy — 
namely, the socialization of all the means of production — should always be 
kept in full view and strongly insisted upon ; this finality being the essential 
feature that distinguishes the Socialist from all other political organizations; 
for it frequently happens that a middle class party, in order to gain the sup- 
port of the workers and make them forget both the nature and the end of the 
class struggle, fraudulently advocates measures of the same purely palliative 
character, which it never carries out. 

The "corporative" (or trade union) movement was also considered. The 
Socialists were advised to push it on with the utmost vigor, not only among 
men but among women workers; but, again, the necessity of Socialist political 
action must never be lost sight of in the daily conflicts of organized workers 
with their individual employers, since it is only by gaining possession of the 
public powers that the laboring class can put an end to the economic system 
under which such conflicts are necessarily becoming every day more numerous 
and more desperate. 

Owing, however, to the economic conditions of Italy, the attitude of the 
party towards the peasantry was the most important question before the dele- 
gates. And they dealt with it in masterly style. 

In the first place the proletarian peasantry was divided into three cate- 
gories, namely: 1 — the wage laborers; 2 — the contract workers; 3 — the 
metayers (small tenants). The wage laborers are to be organized into societies 
of resistance for the purpose of reducing their hours of labor, increasing their 
pay, substituting payment in money for the prevailing system of payment in 
produce, and obtaining the establishment of tribunals of arbitration similar to 
the French institution of the "prud'hommes." The contract workers are like- 
wise to be organized for the reform and improvement of the usual conditions of 
the contract. Lastly, an association of the metayers is to be formed, through 
which the conditions of tenure may be made uniform throughout Italy and so 
improved as to secure to the tenant a minimum amount of produce, sufficient to 
properly sustain him and his family. 



— 55 — 

In the second place the situation of the small landowning class was con> 
sidered. As to this the congress declared that (1) the natural evolution of cap- 
italism, involving the introduction of machinery in agriculture and consequent 
necessity of cultivation on a large scale, and (2) the natural evolution of cap- 
italistic government, involving a constant enlargement of expenditure and 
consequent increase of taxation, are inevitahly destructive of the class in ques- 
tion. Therefore, the Socialist party must strive to enlighten the people of this 
class upon the causes and inevitableness of their pauperization under capital- 
ism, and to make them realize that their only means of salvation, not as small 
property owners, but as deserving workers doomed to fall into the proletariat, 
is in the establishment of the Socialist Commonwealth. 

The foregoing pages were in type, when a formidable insurrection, pro- 
voked by intense suffering, broke out in Milan, spread with the fury of 
despair in the neighboring -provinces, and threatened for a time the existence 
of the monarchy. In the words of Prof. Gerolamo Gatti, Socialist member 
of the Italian * Parliament, "it broke out not because,- but in spite of So- 
cialist agitation;" for the Socialists not only realize but constantly proclaim 
that nothing can be gained by local rebellions springing from uneducated dis- 
ccntent, and that the emancipation of the proletariat must be achieved by 
international co-operation. The leaders of the revolt, where it had any, were 
middle class "Republicans," Clerical Conservatives and Anarchists. Never- 
theless, when the government had repressed it with a cruelty that could not 
have been exceeded under the Crispian regime, the Socialist organizations 
were suppressed and their leaders incarcerated. The Milan deputy Turati, 
among others, was promptly sentenced to fifteen years of imprisonment. By 
re-electing him again and again, as in the case of Felice and Barbato, his 
constituents will probably take him out of his dungeon. In the meantime 
the Turin Socialists have already, to the extent of their power, avenged him 
and his fellow martyrs, by sending to Parliament the celebrated writer A. 
de Amicis, whose conversion to Socialism a few years ago caused a commo- 
tion throughout Italy. Amicis takes the seat of the Reactionist Brin, who 
died lately and was a member of the Italian Cabinet. 




SOCIALISM IN SPAIN. 



In 1840, the teachings of E\)urier and those of Cabet had already found 
some exponents in Spain. The French revolution of 1848 gave a considerable 
impetus to the propagation of Socialistic ideas in that country, and, as they 
progressed, the republican element found itself divided into three fractions- 
more and more distinct, namely: the "Republicans" pure and simple, who aimed 
at the abolition of the monarchy and the establishment of a middle-class re- 
public; the "Democrats," who demanded radical reforms, economic as well as 
political, but were disposed to compromise with the monarchy; and the "So- 
cialists," who were chiefly recruited from ampng university students and 
wage workers of manufacturing centers. Of course, at that time, the Spanish 
Socialists were far from having acquired the clearness and homogeneity of 
views which now characterize everywhere the teachings of better informed and 
more scientific exponents. And while the agitation which they carried on was 
not unproductive of good results, it is a fact that for nearly a whole generation 
Socialism in Spain remained in that same primary stage of theoretical or 
Utopian incubation which for a more or less extended period preceded in every 
country its appearance as a practical factor in social and political evolution. 

The revolution of 1868, which drove Isabella from the throne, caused a radi- 
cal change in this state of affairs by opening a vast field to the International 
Workingmen's Association. In a few months thousands of wage-workers flocked 
to the standard of universal solidarity and numerous Sections were formed. 
The movement, sustained by the publication of official organs at Madrid, Bar- 
celona, Palma, Bilbao and other centers, continued to develop with extra- 
ordinary rapidity. At the Barcelona Congress, held on the 19th of June, 1870, 
forty thousand members were represented and the Spanish Federation of the 
International was constituted. 

The reactionists, temporarily struck dumb with astonishment, now re- 
alized the necessity of acting. By a vote of the Cortes, in Nov., 1870, Prince 
Amadeo of Italy was elected King. Some months later, after the fall of the 
Paris Commune, the ministers pressed for legislation against the International. 
The Cortes made at first a show of unwillingness to comply with the request of 
the cabinet, in order, probably, iq justify the still harsher measures to which 
they finally consented when in September, 1871, the Internationalists, forbidden 
to hold their regular public congress at Valencia, and otherwise persecuted and 
provoked, held a private conference in that city. The Association was then 
outlawed as contrary to "the constitution, the public safety, the State, God, 
property and the family." The federation replied by declaring strikes in more 
than fifty trades, involving every branch of industry throughout the kingdom. 
Every strike was won. 

Vainly did Sagasta take the reins of government The International openly 
<K)ntinued to exist and to increase in membership. To a threatening proclama- 
tion of the minister, forbidding the Association to hold its second national Con- 
gress, its federal council replied with a not less threatening proclamation, de- 
claring that congress would be held and challenging the "possessing class" to 



— 57 — 

initiate "the social war, the war between the poor and the rich." On the day 
publicly appointed (April 6, 1872), the delegates met at Saragossa, held two 
secret sessions, and on the third day (April 8), assembled on the floor of a great 
theater, in the presence of three thousand spectators. A police commissioner 
ordered them to disperse. After reading a protest signed by all the delegates, 
the chairman adjourned the meeting to another hall, where the proceedings 
were privately coAtinued without further interference, the police contenting 
itself with a draft of>charges against the members of the bureau. 

Prom the report of the federal council on the actual forces of the party it 
appeared that in seven months the number of local federations had increased 
from 13 to 102; that there were, besides, 69 trade sections, 284 "sections of re- 
sistance," (or labor unions), and a large number of individual members in places 
where no Sections had as yet been established. There were also 46 local feder- 
ations in course of organization.. Altogether the International was at that time 
more powerful in Spain than in any other country. 

The Spanish federal council, sitting in Madrid, had to that time been in 
perfect harmony with the General Council, which sat in London, and of which 
Karl Marx was the most prominent member. But among the most active or- 
ganizers of the Spanish federation were men attached to Bakunin, whom they 
admired for the revolutionary boldness of his schemes rather than for his 
understanding of the economic question. It may be said in general terms 
that they took their tactics from Bakunin and their economics from Marx; or, 
perhaps more truly, that, as cunning politicians, in order to control the tactics 
they did not interfere with the economics. It is indeed a remarkable fact, that, 
during the whole period of its prosperity, the Spanish International, ever so 
anarchistic in its conduct of the political struggle, was strictly collectivist in its 
economic programme. Not until the day of its decadence did the "individual- 
istic anarchists*' make their appearance, and these were finally driven to the 
logical necessity of forming themselves into small groups, absolutely discon- 
nected from the main body and hardly connected with each other,* 

Bakunin's Spanish lieutenants had therefore industriously worked, not 
merely to build up the International, but to establish the secret Alliance which 
was to control it. As stated in the preceding chapter on the Italian move- 
ment, Bakunin had already in 1869 falsely certified to the dissolution of that 
^ecret society in order to have its Sections regularly admitted into the Inter- 
national. In 1871 the General Council had positive proof of its continued ex- 
istence in Spain. The national congress of Saragossa, in prevision of the 
storm that could not fail to break out at the International Congress of the 
Hague five months later, deemed it wise to again dissolve the Alliance, so as 
to technically weaken, as much as possible, the charges that were to be pre- 



• The original federation having entirely disappeared, a number of anarchists, chiefly of 
the individualistic variety undertook to reorganize it upon a "new basis." They held a 
congress at Valencia in 1889 and formed what they termed a "Federation by the Compact 
of Solidarity for Resistance to Capital." The "new basis" is enunciated as follows in the 
five leading articles of the by-laws: 1 — That anarchism being non-government, complete 
freedom must be given to every member of Society; 2— That Society will not be anarchistic 
as long as any atom of authority may subsist; 3— That all individuals, societies, groups, 
etc., which accept anarchism shall be admitted in the Federation regardless of their eco- 
nomic tenets or revolutionary methods; 4— That all individuals, singly or collectively, 
shall be free to "manifest themselves" as they may please; 5— That a center of relations 
and statistics shall be established for the purpose of facilitating communication between 
individuals and groups, but without any other Initiative. 



— 58 — 

ferred against Bakunin and hiB partisans. At the same time it elected to the 
federal council new men, favorable to Bakunin, and transferred its seat from 
Madrid to Valencia. 

At the Hague Bakunin was expelled from the International, not merely be- 
cause of his secret intrigues but — as stated elsewhere in our chapter on "Italy" 
— on account of his participation in the Netschaief affair. His lieutenants, 
however, enjoyed the full confidence of an overwhelming majority of its mem- 
bership in Spain, and were, moreover, in full control of the machinery of the 
Spanish federation. This body, therefore, sent a delegation to the so-called 
'"anti-authority" congress of Saint Imier, called by Bakunin in the name of his 
Swiss federation of the Jura, and at which were also represented the Italian 
federation as a body and a number of French Sections. Thus was formed the 
Anarchistic, in opposition to the Socialistic, International. The Spanish Marx- 
ists, comparatively few in nunfber and chiefly located in Madrid, rallied under 
the lead of Lafargue and Farja, and founded tfi"e*"New Federation." or Labor 
party. 

Hardly had these events taken place when an insurrection, fomented by 
the Republicans and participated in by the Anarchists, broke out in Madrid. 
It was repressed; but on the 10th of February, 1873, King Amadeo, tired of 
his crown, abdicated and returned to Italy; whereupon the "federal demo- 
cratic republic" was proclaimed. Pi y Margall, who twenty years before had 
translated into Spanish some of the works of Proudhon, and who might be 
classed among the bourgeois individualistic^anarchists, was called to the Presi- 
dency. The constitution which he promulgated was unquestion^ly more 
democratic than any similar document that had ever been given to the people 
of any country as a substitute for actual emancipation, and it soon proved of 
no greater practical value than a mere string of words can be. The Marxists 
had consistently derided the alliance of the Bakuninites with the Republicans. 
At the time of the insurrection their ofiicial organ had expressed itself in 
these words: "We know well enough the composition and spirit of the Repub- 
lican party to assert that this movement is but one of those revolutionary at- 
tempts by which some played out (literally, "disclassed") bourgeois seek to 
promote their personal interests at the cost of any amount of proletarian blood. 
Again we say to our friends, 'the emancipation of the workingmen must be 
achieved by the workingmen.' . Every revolution led by bourgeois can be of no 
benefit whatever but to those bourgeois." 

This warning, which had not been heeded before the republic was pro- 
claimed, was not heeded subsequently. It soon became apparent that the acts 
of Pi y Margall's administration would not fulfil the expectations raised by his 
constitution. The Republicans and the Anarchists, although moved by differ- 
ent considerations, were both dissatisfied. Their alliance was strengthened by 
their common discontent instead of being weakened by their divergence of 
purpose. A committee of public safety was formed. It was chiefly composed of. 
Federal Republicans. At its head, as president, was the Spanish poet, Roque 
Barcia; among its members were General Ferrer, Admiral Monti jo, Brigadier 
Pozas, A. de Sala, V. Alvarez, A. de la Cable, Lafuente, etc. An insurrection 
of the Internationalists broke out at Alcoy. Its sanguinary repression widened 
the breach between the committee and the government. It was followed by 
similar outbreaks at Cadiz, Seville, Granada, Salamanca, Cordova, Valencia, 
Murcia and other important centers. Finally, under the lead of the Federal- 
ists, Carthagena rose in arms by previous agreement with the committee, which 



- 69 — 

moved in a body to that stronghold and constituted itself into a revolutionary 
government, or "junta." 

The spirit of this junta in the matter of social reform is shown by several 
of its decrees, one of which, dated November 1, 1873, and signed by Antonio de 
la Calle in the name of the Commission on the Public Services, reads as follows: 

"Whereas, Property is one of the most sacred rights of man when it is the 
result of his labor; 

"Whereas, One of the most pressing duties of the Revolution, in accord- 
ance with the most elementary principles of its regenerating doctrine, is to 
establish a clear distinction between ill-gotten and honestly acquired property; 

"Whereas, Prom time immemorial, under the despotic systems that have 
heretofore prevailed, thfef vital forces of the nation have remained -paralyzed in 
the hands of a few privileged families who have come into possession of the 
sources of production and wealth by right of conquest or royal bounty; 

"Whereas, for these and other economic reasons our country, rich among 
all in natural wealth, is actually one of the poorest in industry; 

"Whereas, Economic privilege is the chief element of that power which the 
possessing and monopolizing classes are using against the people; * « *• « 
This sovereign junta decides: 

"1 — The revolutionary powers shall immediately proceed to mark out, 
separately, legitimate and Illegitimate property. 

"2 — Shall be declared collective property of the canton all the estates situ- 
ated on its territory, the titles to which are derived by their present holders 
from inheritance or royal donation. 

"3 — Shall also be declared collective property of the canton the lands 
bought of the State at the government sale of ecclesiastical property for less 
than one-third of their actual value; and all contracts and titles relating to 
lands originally involved in the sale of the public domain shall be revised by 
the revolutionary authorities, who shall decide on their legitimacy according 

to right and justice." 

Another decree proclaimed the necessity of public education, secular, pro- 
fessional and compulsory. Another still, issued at the beginning of the siege, 
proclaimed the equality of woman to man in rights and duties; declared that by 
placing her in a condition of inferiority to man, the old societies had not only 
committed a crying wrong, but had stupidly deprived progress and civilization 
of one-half of the intellectual forces at the command of mankind; then pro- 
vided for the organization of the labor and functions of the women of Cartha- 
gena during the siege, with a due regard for their "moral and physical con- 
ditions," which essentially fitted them "for the care of the wounded and the 
alleviation of the sufferings endured by their brothers in their struggle for 
emancipation." 

To be sure, there was nothing anarchistic or middle-class in all those prac- 
tical measures of social reorganization and in the considerations advanced in 
their support. But, as has been already explained, the revolutionary movement 
in Spain, ever so anarchistic in its tactics, was substantially collectivist in 
its principles. If "cantonal" instead of "national" property was contemplated 
in the first decree above mentioned, it was simply because, in the backward 
condition of industry and agriculture, and especially of transportation, com- 
munication and general intercourse in that country, the "collectivist" super- 
vision of the canton was deemed more effective than that of the nation: and it 
did not, of course, exclude national regulation and co-operation. 



-'60- 

Carthagena capitulated with tlie honors of war oa January 12, 1874, after 
a hereto struggle of exactly six months, which taxed all the military resources 
of Spain. 

On the first appearance of dissatisfaction with his government. Pi y Mar- 
gall had resigned the Presidency of the Republia His friend and successor 
Salmeron — who was also a noted Proudhonian — quickly followed him in retire- 
ment Then the ''hablador'* Gastelar, the grandiloquent lackey of the upper 
bourgeoisie, sprang into power with the alacrity of a bloodhound. It was 
under his Presidency that the Republic committed suicide. The resistance of 
the insurgents had been long and desperate. They had been mercilessly 
slaughtered by Campos and his lieutenants. Upon the corpses of proletair^ 
heaped up mountain-high by those royalist butchers the son of ex-Queen Isa- 
bella ascended the throne on the last day of the bloody year 1874. 

Little, if anything, now remained of the Spanish International, lately so 
powerful. From the date of its complete adherence to the Bakunin tactics at 
the secessionist congress of St. Imier two years had hardly elapsed. Its in- 
telligent forces— numerous enough for the purpose of widespread educational 
agitation, unconquerable, indestructible and assured of final Tict(»7 if used 
tor that purpose alone, but still insignificant as an armed body by the side of 
the stupendous forces of (»rganiied brutality and ignorance which despotism 
could put in the field — ^had been wasted by reckless leaders in hopeless insur- 
rections. These apostles of "destruction'' had actually destroyed nothing bat 
their own *'army/* And let it be said here in justice to the modest heroes who 
were thus madly sacrificed, in justice to the humble Spanish martyrs c^ the 
grandest cause and most insane policy, that their record of bravery ai^d mutual 
devotion from the beginning to the end of the unequal conflict is unsurpassed 
in the annals of the cisiss struggle. That they did not succeed does not dim 
their glory; but in connection with many similar episodes it plainly shtows 
that not until a majority of the proletariat, by intelligent appeals to its intdli- 
gence, shall at last have become united and class-couscious, can dec^otism be 
laid low and humanity prevail. 

The small group of Marxists who, after the Congress of the Hague in 1S72,. 
had remained faithful to the General Council of the International and founded 
at Madrid the "New Federation,** could hardly, for a long time, give any sign 
of life. Ten years, in fact,, passed away before the Socialists could venture 
upon calling a national congress that might prove of sufllcient importance as a 
representative body to command some attention. In 18S2^ however, 123 d^e- 
gates, representing 152 labor organizations, answered their appeal, met at 
Barcelona and formed the Social Democratic Labor party of Spain. The pliat- 
fOrm which they adopted declared that the object of the party was to accooa- 
pXish the emancipation of the working class by legal methods, and to arrive at 
thft socializatiDn of the means of production by independ^it political actcoa. at 
thft ballot box. It provided for the organization of Socialistic trade unions as a 
necessary adjunct to the political movement under the present ecotLoadc 
aystem and contained a programme of demands for the immediate impirvi^- 
mfflit of economic conditions. 

The progress of the party, impeded at every step by capitalistic 
cttAJMDL on one side and anarchistic opposition on the other, was dtflLeult 
tiiam^ In 1SS6» whei it sent two delegate t» the Paris int»nationaI coixJte«aeaL 
Ife had hut fivw adheroats autalde of Madrid and Barcelona. Xumi»roa& 



— 61 — 

Ings were held, a national organ, ''El Sbcialista/' was founded in Madrid under 
the editorship of Iglesias and the field of propaganaa was somewhat enlarged. 
The platform was slightly amended with a view to greater precision. The 
Tet, at the Barcelona congress of 1888, only sixteen sections were represented. 
Comrades went to work with increased devotion and energy. They made some 
gains. At the Bilbao congress in 1890, twenty-three Sections were represented, 
and the membership of all was reported as steadily increasing. The Inter- 
national Congress held the previous year in Paris — the first Socialist Congress 
of this sort that had been held since the extinction of the International Work- 
ingmen's Association — ^had evidently, by its consecration of May Day to the 
cause of the universal proletariat, and by the evidences it gave of a rapid re- 
integration of the revolutionary forces all along the line — revived the hopes of 
the Spanish toilers. The International Congress of Brussels in 1891, by reject- 
ing the Spanish and Italian anarchists ivho cunningly sought admission under 
various disguises, had a still more wholesome effect. Notice had thus been 
given that no disrupting element would this time be allowed to interfere with 
the natural expansion of the International Socialist Movement, and that no 
man would be considered as honestly proffering his co-operation who did not 
absolutely repudiate leaders and tactics opposed to the spirit of that great 
movement. 

The Spanish anarchists realized the full force of the blow. They saw 
themselves isolated from the rest of the world and threatened with similar 
isolation in their own country, whose laboring masses must sooner or later ir- 
resistibly be drawn into the vortex of the international cyclone. With their 
usual fertility of resources and unscrupulousness of means they allied them- 
selves to the Republicans, to keep as many workingmen as possible from join- 
ing the Socialists or supporting their candidates. At the same time Pi y Mar- 
gall, who professed to have somewhat evolved in the direction of Socialism, 
but who was in reality as much of a Proudhonian bourgeois and political con- 
fusionist as he had ever been, spoke of "harmony," of the "common enemy," 
of the "common ground upon which all the 'revolutionary' elements could and 
should stand," of the possibility of achieving, one at a time, "practical results," 
and otherwise did his best to allure the Socialists into the Republican-Anarch- 
istic combination. All in vain. The Socialists stood firm and uncompromising. 
The impulse was given. Thirty-seven Sections sent delegates to their Valencia 
Congress in 1892. A year later, at the International Congress of Zurich, the 
Spanish delegation reported fifty Sections, six of which were composed of 
agricultural laborers. Moreover, the General Union of Spanish Workingmen — 
an economic body that was also represented at Zurich and which holds to the 
Social Democratic Labor party of Spain the same relation as the Socialist 
Trade and Labor Alliance holds to the Socialist Labor party of the United 
States — reported 112 local unions with a membership in good standing of 
5,848. The Socialistic press, which numbered four papers in 1891, increased 
in two years to seven, including the trade organ of the General Union. Fur- 
thermore, the party established at Madrid a "Socialist Library," by which the 
most important works of Spanish and foreign Socialists are published. 

At the parliamentary elections of 1893, the recorded vote of the party in 
the few districts where it had been found possible to place candidates in the 
field was 7,000, showing an increase of forty per cent, as compared with the 
previous election. Again, in April, 1896, upon a slightly extended area of 



— 62 — 

electoral agitation, the Socialist nominees for the Cortes received 15,000 votes, 
showing in three years a progress of 100 per cent. "This result," observed 
the National Committee in its report to the London International Congress, "is 
the more significant as the government, availing itself of the opportunities of 
repression afforded by the attempt of the anarchists against the life of Mar- 
tinez Campos and their barbarous bomb throwing at the Lyceum Theatre of 
Barcelona, had taken «very possible measure to restrict the organization of 
labor, especially in Catalonia/* 

Moreover, at the municipal elections of 1895. the Spanish Socialists scored 
some suopesses highly Jencouraging by their sigiri^B(mnce. They elected two 
counciridi*8 in the plutocratic city of Bilbao in spite of the intimidation and 
fraud practised by their opponents; one at Ferrol, an "important seaport, where 
the Socialist candidate obtained more votes than the Republican leader, who 
was also elected; one at Mataro, a manufacturing town of Catalonia, and one at 
Salamanca. In the latter city the party had no organization, but the popular 
vote spontaneously elected Prof. Dorado, a well-known exponent and uncom- 
promising advocate of Socialism. 

With the scanty means at their command and in the face of extraordinary 
difficulties our Spanish Comrades repeatedly gave to the world admirable 
examples of class-consciousness and international solidarity. For instance, at 
a time when their party treasury was empty, they collected, cent by cent, 912 
lires for the succor of the Italian Socialists compromised in the Sicilian up- 
rising and persecuted by Crispi. Again, not only they collected 15,000 pesetas 
($3,000) for the support of the Malaga weaver during the famous strike of 
those poor people against their multimillionaire employer, the "Famisher** 
Larios, but they actually took charge of the strike, and for this purpose sent 
Iglesias to Malaga when the Spanish authorities, in order to break it down, 
undertook to beat, imprison and otherwise persecute the weavers. Iglesias 
himself was almost immediately arrested and kept forty days in confinement 
without trial, after which he was arraigned before the Malaga criminal court 
upon trumped up charges and promptly sentenced to four months' imprison- 
ment. Mark that the Spanish parliament was then in session, and that not 
one of those middle-class deputies, so-called "Republicans" or Democrats, with 
whom the Anarchists had always been ready to make political bargains whjle 
declaiming against "political action," entered a protest against the scandalous 
conduct of the Malaga authorities, transformed with the connivance of the 
national government into agents of the plutocrat Larios. 

As we write we have not yet a detailed account of the Socialist vote cast at 
the parliamentary election of 1897; but we know that it reached a total of about 
28,000 votes, showing the same high rate of increase as previously. This is 
especially gratifying under the present circumstances. Shaken in Its every 
pillar by the colonial rebellions of Cuba and the Philippines, the old Spanish 
structure is apparently now on the verge of destruction. Bearing in mind, 
however, that every political cataclysm in Spain, by affording her Anarchists 
an opportunity to their taste, has heretofore proved more obstructive than 
favorable to the development of sound Socialist doctrine and tactics, we shall 
watch with intense interest, not unmixed with anxiety, the march of events in 
that unfortunate country. 



SOCIALISM IN BELGIUM 



There are no impassable frontiers in the world of ideas; but in the early 
stages of an intellectual movement identity of language and territorial prox- 
imity are important factors of transmission. Contiguous to France and closely 
related to her by historic traditions and racial aflRnities, Belgium was natur- 
ally the first country on the European continent to be drawn into the vortex of 
the French Revolution. Again, in 1830, the Paris .uprising that finally put an 
end to the rule of the Bourbons in France, was proanptly followed by a success- 
ful insurrection of the Belgians against the' Dutch despotism imposed upon 
them at the Congress of Vienna in 1815. The character of this rebellion was 
already more than purely political. The famous communist Buonarotti, who in 
1796 escaped the fate of his Babouvist associates, had finally found a refuge in 
Belgium, where he died in 1829. There is every reason to believe that during 
his residence in that country, this great revolutionist and fearless champion of 
the proletariat contributed largely to the dissemination of the ideas formulated 
in the "Manifeste des Bgaux.'* For, as soon as the independence of Belgium 
had been proclaimed, the.workingmen of Ghent, Brussels, bi^ge and other 
cities, under the lead of De Potter, who was a member of the provisional gov- 
ernment, demanded the "democratization of the constitution ; namely , universal 
suffrage, public education, unrestricted freedom of meeting and association, lib- 
erty of the press, graduated and exclusive taxation of the rich; limitation of the 
right of inheritance, etc." "The people also," they said, "must enjoy the fruits 
of the revolution." And not until many of them had been mercilessly shot down 
in the streets, or imprisoned, or exiled, or otherwise persecuted, did they re- 
alize that in driving out the Dutch they had merely exchanged the odious rule 
of foreign tyrants for the not less galling despotism of their own domestic 
bourgeoisie. Soon the doctrines of Saint Simon and Fourier were actively prop- 
agated in various parts of the little kingdom by men belonging to the Intel- 
lectual proletariat. At Louvaln the university students rebelled against the 
faculty and demanded the appointment of Fourlerist professors. Other thinkers 
struck out Independently Into the newly discovered fields of sociological in- 
vestigation. Among these was Col. Collns, son of the Baron de Ham. and a 
lineal descendant of the famous Duke of Burgundy, Charles the Bold. 

A brief sketch of Colins' life will show the metal of which this remarkable 
man was made and the mould In which that metal was cast: He was born- at 
Brussels In 1783. His youth was chlefiy spent on the battlefield. At 17 he was b 
private in a cavalry regiment of the French army. Despite his good education 
and unsurpassed bravery his promotion was slow; yet not slower than he ap- 
parently desired, for his modesty was great, and he once refused the Cross of 
the Legion of Honor on the ground that several of his more obscure compan- 
ions deserved It better than he did. He had already served eleven years In the 
lower ranks when he was made an officer. Then, however, the scientific turn of 
his mind had so Impressed his surroundings that his regiment sent him to the 
school of Alfort, from which. In one year, he graduated "hors concours." At 
that time. also, he wrote a short but remarkable essay on t\m^\ ^^^^^^soj , \ss^ 



— 64 — 

which he subsequently received on the battlefield of Leipzig (1813) a gold medal 
from the French Agricultural Society. 

At the battle of Ligny (June 16, 1S15), he was aide-de-camp to Gen. Excel- 
mans, and substantially contributed to the victory of the Blench by carrying 
with a few hussars a strongly posted and terribly destructive Prussian battery. 
Two days later we find him at Wavres with Grouchy's corps. The roar of ar- 
tillery is heard from Waterloo. Sent on a reconnaissance Colins reports that a 
road is open, and begs Excelmans to march his troops "to the. cannon." "Im- 
possible," replies Excelmans; "Grouchy forbids." "Grouchy forbids!" exclaims 
Colins; "disobey, then, and arrest him." After the retreat Colins scours the 
country between Paris and Versailles, and at Roquencourt inflicts a crushing 
defeat on the Prussian cavalry. But rumors of treason are afloat. Fouch6 and 
Talleyrand, it is said, are concocting a shameful capitulation. "Let these 
traitors be shot," says again Colins to Excelmans, who, with 40,000 veterans, 
covers the road to Paris; "up with the red flag, man, and die in your boots 
rather than bend the knee to the Bourbons." Excelmans, however, preferred 
life under the Bourbons to death under the red flag, and soon after the capitula- 
tion CJolins, for whom neither France nor his own native land of Belgium waa 
any longer safe, sailed for America. He settled in Philadelphia, where he gave^ 
himself to the pursuit of physiological science and the practice of medicine. 

The revolution of 1830 brought him back to Paris, overflowing with ho£e 
and energy. Of course its ridiculous outcome disgusted him far more than any 
human turpitude which he had yet witnessed. But the impetus already then 
given to human thought by the Utopian concepts of St. Simon and Fourier could 
not be lost upon a man of his sort, and from that time dates the intense appli- 
cation of his noble mind to the investigation of social problems, for which he 
strengthened himself by absorbing all the knowledge of his day in a ten years' 
course of studies at the flve great schools of the Paris Academy. Mark that he 
was then nearing that period of life which for most of those who are privileged 
to enter it is one of declining powers. He had, indeed, attained the age of 68 
when he published the first volume of his first great work, entitled "What is 
Social Science?" And he was 71 when in 1854 the fourth and last volume of 
that work appeared. Then came out in rapid succession, four other works of 
equal magnitude on philosophy, history and economics; so that when he died at 
the advanced age of 76 his contributions to modern inquiry filled nineteen 
ponderous volumes, exclusive of magazine articles and unpublished manu^ 
scripts. 

It is not, however, in those monumental works of his later days, chiefly re- 
markable for the stores of erudition and powers of speculation which they dis- 
play, that his most valuable production can be found. Soaring in the medlta^ 
tive and transcendent, lost in a dual concept of matter and mind upon which 
he would rest the social structure, the now learned Colins becomes a not less 
dogmatic Utopian than St. Simon and Fourier, not less convinced that he had 
discovered absolute truth and invented an all-embracing social system outside 
of which there could be no salvation for mankind. With less knowledge but 
clearer sight the Colins of 1835, confining himself to the study of positive eco- 
nomics, had done vastly better and actually proved himself the precursor of 
Collectivism as distinct from Communism. In an essay published at that time 
and entitled, "Le Pacte Social" (The Social Compact), he was the first to ad- 
vance the proposition, that not only the land but the instruments of labor must 
be so held by the whole community industrially organized, as to always remain 



— 65 — 

accessible to all its members, individual property being limited to such articles 
of personal use, or to such means of personal comfort and pleasure, as the in- 
dividual was entitled to in return for the social values which his own manual 
or mental industry had produced. 

Among the disciples of Colins, who were few but of a high intellectual 
order, may be mentioned L. De Potter, the veteran democrat of 1830, and his son 
Agathon; also, Dr. Hugentobler, of Switzerland; then, later, J. Duboul, member 
of the Bordeaux Academy of Sciences; Prof. Rouyer, of the Paris Ste Barbe 
School; Frederic Borde, of Brussels, Dr. LeCl^re, Dr. Ranson and other mem- 
bers of the learned professions. 

At the same time there were others of more or less independent views, such 
as Jottrand, Barthels, the poet Kats, Gerard Mathieu, De Keyser, etc., who 
wrote, spoke and agitated on similar lines, each in his own way. Their notions 
were still vague, chaotic and conflicting; while their honest desire to bring 
about some improvement in the condition of the people induced them to advo- 
cate palliatives which could not be obtained from the ruling class and which 
would have proved absolutely ineffective if that class could have been forced 
to make the concessions demanded from it. Nevertheless, their critical work 
was very instrumental in preparing the disinherited niasses for the reception 
of truth and the consequent organization of the proletariat for its self-emanci- 
pation. 

We should not here omit to mention Prof. Altmeyer, of the University of 
Brussels, whose teachings were calculated to awaken in his more thoughtful 
pupils a spirit of inquiry that would naturally, on the lines which he pointed 
out, lead them to conclusions fundamentally opposed to the tenets of capital- 
istic economy. Of the young men who followed his course in (or about) the 
year 1860, three became eminent Socialists. They were Hector Denis, William 
De Greef and Cesar de Paepe. The early tendencies of the first two named, in 
particular, were rather Proudhonian; and so, to some extent, were at first those 
of the latter, who needed only, however, a little more knowledge and such ex- 
perience as he could best acquire in the practical school of proletarian misery 
to develop into an ardent propagator of Collectivism. Prof. Altmeyer himself 
became an admirer of Lassalle and a convert to the Marxist doctrine which the 
great German agitator was then popularizing in his own country. 

De Paepe soon acted a prominent part in the social revolutionary move- 
ment. He came at a time when Socialism was entering a new phase. The 
Utopian schools of Saint Simon, Fourier, Owen, etc., had practically died away, 
after accomplishing their necessary work of thought-stirring and overturning; 
a stupendous work, to be sure, and without a parallel in the history of the 
human mind. The. Utopian experiments of philosophers with a cast-iron system, 
revolutionists with a perfect plan, and economic reformers with an infallible 
cure-all, had grievously miscarried, yet, by their very failure, had spread a 
clearer light upon the fundamental truths and evolutionary facts of the coming 
social order. Even their criticisms of each other, frequently more bitter than 
their attacks upon the common enemy, had served the purpose of enlighten- 
ment among those who were to take their places and continue their work in 
the struggle for human freedom. 

Compelled by the death of his father to leave the university at the age of 
19, De Paepe had to earn his living as a journeyman printer. He soon married 
the daughter of Brismde, who employed him and was, like himself, a poor man 
and a Socialist. By working at night as a proofreader, 'vYvM^ \^^ ^^^^ ^t^lXskc 



— 66 — 

side toiled long hours as a tailoress, he was able to resume his studies in the 
day time, took his degrees in science and medicine, and practiced surgery at the 
Brussels hospital as an assistant doctor. At the same time he contributed to 
Socialist publications and took an active Interest in labor affairs; so that in 
1864, when he was only 23 years of age, he was selected by the advanced labor 
organizations of Brussels to represent them at the London initial conferences 
of the International Association. From that moment, and owing, no doubt, to 
the influence of Karl Marx, with whom he had become personally acquainted in 
London, he steadily progressed in his views concerning the collective owner- 
ship of the land and all the means of production and distribution as the only 
scientific solution of the social problem. 

At the first congress of the International, held at Geneva in 1866, it was not 
deemed expedient to force an issue with the French Proudhonians on the prop- 
erty question. The chief object was then to build up the great engine of prop- 
aganda through which the workers of all countries were to be united into a 
mighty power against the capitalist class and its despotic governments. For 
this purpose the declaration of general principles adopted at the London con- 
ference was then deemed quite sufficient, laying down, as it did, certain funda- 
mental truths in the light of which the indispensableness of the union which it 
was desired to effect appeared most obviously, to wit: that ''the emancipation 
of the working class must be accomplished by the working class itself;" that 
"the economic subjection of the laborer to capital" — that is, to the instruments 
of industry which his labor alone has produced, and therefore to the class 
which has appropriated those instruments — *'is the source of all social, mentai 
and political servitude;" that "economic emancipation is consequently thfc 
great aim to which every political movement must be subordinated as a means 
to an end;" and that the attainment of this great aim "is not a local or a na- 
tional, but a universal social problem, requiring for its solution the co-opera- 
tive action of the working classes throughout the world, regardless of race, 
sex, creed or nationality." It was expected that the immense work of agitation 
and consequent education, necessary to bind together the proletarians of all 
trades and all countries, would of itself result in the dissemination of such 
sound economic doctrine, that when the masses were ready to abolish capital- 
ism they would also be fitted intellectually to establish the Socialist Common- 
wealth. 

It was soon found, however, that certain leaders, imbued with Proudhonian 
ipiddle class notions, or mere revolutionists without any economic notion what- 
ever, all more or less gifted with oratorical powers and organizing abilities, 
were conducting their agitation with a sole view to the forcible destruction of 
the existing order and without any reference whatever to reconstructive prin- 
ciples. They inflamed, they did not teach; they could not, in fact, teach what 
they did not know. 

To the scientific, positive and practical mind of a De Paepe, who had him- 
self in his extreme youth been enmeshed by Proudhonian sophistry but had 
finally freed himself from it, this neglect of the educational part — the most 
important part — of the functions of the International was full of danger. And 
it was the more dangerous as the Proudhonians, then, were chiefly Frenchmen, 
some of whom represented Paris; Paris, the torch-bearer of progress, the great 
cosmopolis to which the militant forces of the proletariat in all parts of the 
world had long been accustomed to look, and were still looking with more 
anxiety than ever, tor initiative and leadership in the social revolution. What 



— 67 — 

would become of tlie movement if, from the very start, its elements were radi- 
cally divided on the fundamental question of property? Manifestly, there was 
urgent necessity for a declaration of the International upon this all-important 
subject; a declaration sufficiently expressive of its position, or at least of Its 
ultimate aims, to prevent general misunderstanding or factional equivocation. 
Therefore, at the Second Congress (Lausanne, 1867), De Paepe, in presenting the 
report of the Sixth Commission, recommended that various means and measures 
advocated by various Socialists, be referred by the Congress to the Sections of 
the International, to be there studied and discussed with a view to final action 
at the congress of the following year. Among the questions to be thus re- 
ferred was "the turning over of the land to the collective ownership of society" 
(I'entr^e du sol k la propri6t6 collective de la soci6t6). This the Proudhonian 
Tolain moved to strike out, although, in fairness to all sides, De Paepe had in- 
cluded in his list of propositions for study the Proudhonian middle class 
scheme of a transformation of the national banks into banks of gratuitous 
credit, the Saint-Simonian palliative demand for a limitation of the right of 
inheritance, etc. Tolain, this time, was sustained by the majority, some mem- 
bers of which did not by any means indorse the gratuitous credit scheme of his 
school, but were as yet too timid to squarely meet the property issue. 

The mere fact, however, that this great question had made its appearance 
at the Lausanne Congress, was sufficient in itself to immediately cause a lively 
discussion of it in most of the Sections; so that its reappearance at the Con- 
gress of Brussels the following year (1868), could not be prevented by any arti- 
fice of the Proudhonians. And it then reappeared in a greatly enlarged form. 
After disposing of various matters, chiefiy relating to the tactics of the move- 
ment— puch as "the legitimacy of strikes in the existing state of war between 
capital and labor," the "necessity of subjecting such confilcts to certain rules 
and to certain conditions of organization and opportunity," etc. — ^the congress 
placed on its agenda (order of the day), for its sixteenth session, the question of 
collective property in land, machinery and all other instruments of labor, after 
referring it to a commission for preliminary study. 

The commission's report, read by the French delegate Murat, embodied the 
collectivist views of De Paepe, whose intense earnestness and extensive knowl- 
edge had greatly impressed its members. True, the wording of its conclusions 
was not in certain respects as clear as would now be expected from a Socialist 
body. But certain facts and tendencies were at that time far from being as 
plain as they are to-day, except to such master minds as Marx and De Paepe. 
It may even be doubted whether De Paepe himself did not still entertain the 
notion, then quite prevalent among working men and subsequently exploited 
by the anarchists, that the trade union form of the labor movement would serve 
as a basis for the social reorganization of industry. At any rate, although this 
notion was refiected in a vaguely suggested scheme of workingmen's associa- 
tions, each controlling the instruments of its trade, there towered above this 
or any other scheme of a purely mechanical, administrative order the emphatic 
declaration of the fundamental principle that the land, the mines, the quarries, 
the forests, and all the enginery of production and transportation, including 
machines, canals, roads, railroads, telegraphs, etc., are of right and must be 
made in fact the collective property of society. 

At the same time, and in order no doubt to propitiate Tolain and his fol- 
lowers, the recommendation was made that all the sections be instructed to 
suggest, after careful study, such ways and mean^^'&Vw.Wii^Vc ^'^Vc^sscL ^^-^^Xjw^ 



— 68 — 

be devised for the creation of a bank of credit and exchange, whose services 
should be rendered at cost. 

But Tolaln would not be propitiated, in so. far, at least, as agricultural 
land was concerned. While granting, that it was well enough to vest in the 
State such monopolies as the mines and the railroads, he declared that "in- 
dividual property in the soil was a condition of individual liberty." De Paepe 
logically replied: "We only endeavor to extend to agriculture the principle 
which M. Tolain and the other opponents of collective property in land admit 
to be very good for mines, quarries, roads, etc. ♦ ♦ * why should we deal 
differently with the mine, which is a field under ground, and the field properly 
so-called, which is a mine on the surface of the earth, from which are extracted 
vegetable instead of mineral substances? We believe ourselves more consist- 
ent than our opponents. The land being, like what is beneath its surface, given 
gratuitously to mankind by nature, we claim the ownership of it for all man- 
kind.'' As to his sweeping assertion that "individual property in the soil was a 
condition of individual liberty," Tolain was asked by another Belgian delegate 
(Coener, of Antwerp), how he would, if this were true, secure the liberty of any 
man who could not or would not become a landowner. 

Of the forty-nine delegates present at the time of voting iipon the con- 
clusions of the commission, thirty recorded themselves in the afllrmative, faur 
in the negative, and fifteen abstained. The grounds of opposition and absten- 
tion were stated as follows in a written declaration read by Tolain and signed 
by the 19 dissenters: "The property question was not placed on the agenda of 
this congress in time to afford opportunity for its exhaustive study, and its con- 
sideration, therefore, has been most superficial and inadequate. In view of the 
fact that a number of delegates claimed to be insufficiently informed upon the 
subject, action thereon should have been deferred to the next Congress. The 
undersigned consequently decline all responsibility for the position here 
taken.*' 

Mark this artful plea for delay — this bland profession of ignorance and this 
hypocritical desire for general enlightenment — coming from a man who, a year 
before, had strenuously opposed any study whatever of the property question 
(that is of the most fundamental question that could occupy the attention of 
the laboring class) and who was, therefore, directly responsible for any such 
lack of information as he and his followers could still conveniently assume. 
Three years later this same Tolain, sitting in the French National Assembly — 
with which he had remained in Versailles when the Paris Commune was pro- 
claimed — was taken to task for his participation in the International. Those 
were dangerous days for any man who might be suspected, ever so little, of 
heresy in the matter of property rights. The blood of 35,000 "Communards" 
had not quenched the thirst of the capitalist class, and angry looks were cast 
at Tolain by its representatives. But he safely fell back upon his record: He 
had "defended individual property.'* 

The prominent part taken by De Paepe and his Belgian co-delegates in the 
congresses of the International, supplemented by an active agitation in the 
great manufacturing cities and mining districts of the little kingdom, could not 
fail to bear substantial fruits. In 1869 the Belgian membership of the Associa- 
tion reached the figure of 70,000. But the momentous events of the following 
two years were of such a nature as to develop revengeful sentiments rather 
than cool-headed organization; so that the agents or partisans of Bakunin found 
ready Ustenera Jn the Belgian Sections of the International. True, they were 



— 69 — 

not at that time advocating any of the various economic notions, more or less 
individualistic, upon which, as full-fledged anarchists, they later agreed to dis- 
agree. They confined themselves to the stirring of "bad passions," in strict 
obedience to the orders of "Citizen B.," and the Belgians saw in them, not de- 
termined opponents of that scientific collectivism which was taught by Marx 
and De Paepe, but impatient Socialists, anxious to end the misery of the people 
by precipitating a bloody revolution, regardless of any probability of its failure. 
The expulsion of Bakunin from the International by the Hague Congress in 
1872 consequently gave rise to dissensions which soon proved fatal to the or- 
ganization in Belgium. Not until several years had passed, during which the 
anarchistic embryo had suflaciently developed to show its anti-Socialistic na- 
ture, could the Belgians fully realize that the question at issue in 1872 involved 
the fundamental principles as well as the tactics of the labor movement. Not 
until then could they perceive the superior wisdom displayed by Marx in fore- 
seeing this development and in casting away, at any risk, at any cost, the 
poisonous germ before it had fastened itself to the vitals of true Socialism. In- 
deed, De Paepe himself, as late -as 1877, was among those who attempted "con- 
ciliation" by inviting the anarchistic International, (established by Bakunin at 
his congress of St. Imler immediately after his expulsion by the congress of the 
Hague), to participate in a "universal Socialist congress," which was held at 
Ghent from the 9th to the 15th of October in that year. True, Balkunin was 
dead, and it was hoped that his maleficent influence would not survive him. 

So surprised were the anarchists at this unexpected tender of the olive 
branch, that, suspecting a "machination against the International," the dele- 
gates they sent from Italy and th^ Swiss Jura held a preliminary conference, 
or caucus, in the Belgian town of Verviers, where they had a number of ad- 
herents, and where, three years later. Most established a branch office of his 
London "EYeiheit." It may seem strange that the anarchists, who now strenu- 
ously insist upon being admitted where they are not wanted, should then have 
seriously considered whether it was proper for them to appear where they 
were invited. But what can be more hateful to such "free will" philosophers 
than the despotism of logic? 

Of course, from the "conciliation" point of view the Ghent Congress was a 
failure. It did not and could not put an end to the conflict between tendencies 
so thoroughly antagonistic and irreconcilable as Socialism and Anarchism nec- 
essarily are by their very nature. The recent death of Bakunin and the growth 
of apathy among the wage-working masses in all countries except Germany 
since the fall of the Paris Commune, had for a time lessened the intensity of 
the struggle; but it was soon to revive and to even assume, quite logically, a 
more decided character when Most was finally recognized by the followers of 
Bakunin as the rightful heir to the notions, tactics and authority of their 
master. At Ghent, the thorough-going anarchists proved obdurate and bolted. 
In another sense, however, that congress was to some extent a suc- 
cess. It had the effect of rallying to the Socialists, especially in Belgium, a 
number of those who, honestly believing in collectivism, had been misled into 
the adoption of anarchistic tactics. A compact was signed by the delegates, 
recognizing the inseparableness of social freedom and political liberty; de- 
claring the necessity of a distinctly proletarian party, that would make use, 
against all the capitalist parties, of "every political means tending to the social 
emancipation of the working class;" pledging the mutual support of their re- 
t^ective organizations in France, Belgium, EJngland, Germaw^, feocisXxNsi., ^^^^- 



— 70 — 

mark, Switzerland and Italy; and establishing temporarily at Ghent a Federal 
Bureau for the interchange of information and the elaboration of a plan to be 
submitted to the following congress. This Federal Bureau, composed of Bel- 
gians, then issued a manifesto, beginning with a copy of the compact and pro- 
ceeding as follows: "We urge the necessity of political action as a powerful 
means of agitation, education and organization. The present social system must 
be attacked on all its sides simultaneously and with all the arms at our com- 
mand. Politics, legislation, the administration of public affairs, constitute one 
of these sides, and legislative reform, electoral agitation. Socialist representa- 
tion in public bodies, manifestations in favor of economic, political and civic 
rights, are as many weapons that we cannot rightly surrender to the enemy. 
Away, then, with political abstention! In every country where the workers 
have the right to vote, they must unite into a political party of their class for 
the purpose of gaining representation in parliaments and municipal councils; 
while in the countries where they are deprived of the franchise they must, by 
all the means in their power, strive to obtain or conquer it. Is not parliament 
a rostrum from which Socialism, through its deputies, can make itself heard 
by the whole people, thus compelling workman and bourgeois alike to consider 
the social question? And will not electoral agitation, with the public discus- 
sions consequent upon a Socialist candidacy, help in forcing this question to 
the front? Is it not in great part because the German Social Democracy fights 
simultaneously on every field — political, economic, scientific, etc. — that it has 
attained its present development, consolidated its organization and imparted 
an irresistible momentum to its ideas? * * * To conquer a political right, 
to unite workmen formerly divided or isolated, to win a strike, or to resist an 
oppression, is surely not less of an achievement in the pursuit of social renova- 
tion than is philosophical speculation on the future arrangements of society." 

But the time had not yet come for a simultaneous movement of the various 
national proletariats on the familiar lines once more delineated in this mani- 
festo. In each country a reorganization of forces was slowly going on, 
which was an essential preliminary of effective political action. The German 
Social Democracy itself, to which the Socialists of other countries were anxi- 
ously looking for inspiration or encouragement, was about to enter the most 
trying period of its history; a period of relentless persecution under the Bis- 
marckian anti-Socialist law, the enactment of which in its rigorous form was 
greatly facilitated by the anarchists' attempts of 1878 to practically illustrate 
their ^'propaganda of the deed." Nevertheless, it was during this period that 
the chasm became so wide between the anarchists and the Socialists, and their 
separation so complete, that the latter could at last steadily prosecute their 
work, undisturbed by internal dissensions. In the Wallon districts of Belgium 
the anarchists had gained the upper hand; from Verviers as a center of opera- 
tions, although frequently divided among themselves, they succeeded for sev- 
eral years in carrying on a fruitless agitation. But in the other provinces the 
Socialists had a clear field. They demanded universal suffrage and called upon 
the people to organize for the purpose of obtaining it. 

At last the great movement of emancipation reached its turning point. 
The stupendous victory won at the polls in 1884 by the Social Democracy of 
Germany changed the face of affairs. On the 5th of April, 1885, the delegates 
of fifty-nine labor unions, co-operative associations and mutual benefit so- 
cieties met at Brussels and founded the "Belgian Labor party." Among the 
bodies represented on this memorable occasion were the now famous co-oper- 



— 71 — 

ative -Vooruif • of Ghent, founded by Socialists in 1880, the "Werker" of Ant- 
werp, the "Federation of Trades," which had but lately been formed in Brus- 
sels, the "Glass-Workers* Union" of Charleroi, etc. The naming of the party 
gave rise to an interesting discussion. The men of Ghent proposed to style it 
"Socialist party." Other delegates, chiefly of trade unions, "afraid to 
frighten," proposed *<Labor party." In the interest of "conciliation" the fighter 
Volders, the fearless tribune who subsequently lost his reason and his life in 
the hour of triumph, advised the adoption of the latter name. On this subject 
De Paepe wrote: "In fact no other name could have been more preCise, compre- 
hensive and significant. Whoever says, *Labor party,* says 'class party.* And 
as soon as the laboring class constitutes itself into a party, what else can it be 
but Socialist?** And in commenting upon these remarks the Socialist deputy 
Vandervelde lately observed: "There are now some who complain of our party 
name, on the ground that its class meaning keeps away certain middle class 
men, who no longer tremble at the word Socialism. Shall the name which orig- 
inally frightened the oppositionists be now adopted in order to please them?'* 
To this pertinent question we might reply: "By no means; should any change 
be advisable, rather make it Socialist Labor party.** 

The agitation for universal suffrage now became more systematic, vigor- 
ous and widespread. In every form of organization, whether the special pur- 
pose in view was resistance, co-operation, mutual help, political education, 
physical training, or even recreation, all considerations were subordinated to 
the great end of obtaining the franchise. So rapidly did the movement grow 
that in 1887, at the national congress of Mons, the more impatient wing of the 
party, under the lead of Defuisseaux, proposed to force the issue by resorting to 
a general strike. The majority, however, in full accord with such experienced 
teachers and organizers as De Paepe, Volders, Anseele, Bertrand, Van Beveren, 
realized that the proposed step was premature, certain to fail, and likely to 
prove destructive of the very foundations, well built but as yet by no means 
unshakeable, upon which the party structure had hardly begun to rise above 
ground. The discussion was long and passionate. It resulted in the withdrawal 
of Defuisseaux and his followers, who apparently did not perceive that by se- 
ceding from the main body they not only weakened it but increased their own 
impotency. Undismayed by this defection, the majority went on, carrying out 
its plan of organization more methodically than ever, and achieving practical 
results far beyond its own expectations, until the Defuisseaux faction, full 
of sincere admiration and honest repentance, publicly acknowledged its error 
and applied for readmission. Since that time (1889) the Belgian Labor party 
has remained a unit, impervious to dissension. 

It was also in 1885 that the reorganization of the Socialist movement upon 
its present lines of battle began in France; and as an international exhibition 
was to take place in Paris in 1889, the occasion was deemed a good one to hold 
there an international Socialist Congress. Instead of one, however, two were 
held at the same time, owing to the differences of long standing and chiefly 
personal which still kept apart the leaders of the French movement. Several 
countries were represented in both, but Germany was represented in one, which 
for this reason was called the "Marxist,** while the other, on account of the 
former tactics of the more prominent among the French delegates who at- 
tended it, became known as the "Possibilist** congress. The transactions of 
both were substantially identical, and the suggestions of future union made by 
the foreigners were upon the whole favorably received by the F^^xj^rTol. "^Xsa 



— 72 — 

Belgian Labor party enjoyed universal confidence. It was therefore intrusted 
with the somewhat delicate mission of arranging for a Congress at Brussels in 
1891, as representative as possible of the united forces of International Social- 
ism and organized labor. A step calculated to further promote harmony, and 
to greatly quicken the movement in all countries, was also taken at Paris: — 
May Day was instituted. 

The following two years were eventful in Belgium. On the 5th of April, 
1890, the party held its national congress at Louvain. Its progress had been 
constant, its discipline was perfect. It was ready to act — not rashly, but 
strongly. A resolution was passed, calling for a popular demonstration at 
Brussels, on the 10th of August, in favor of universal suffrage. 

On the day appointed the manifestation took place. It was the greatest 
Brussels had ever seen; 80,000 men participated in it. Delegates had come from 
all parts of the country. At the meeting they held in the evening they called a 
congress for the 14th of September, to devise ways and means of ceaseless agi- 
tation. This congress decided that the time had come when a general strike 
might be declared as a last pacific resort should the Chambers and the gov- 
ernment prove intractable. It also issued a call for a general popular demon- 
stration, to be held in every city on the Sunday preceding the opening of Par- 
liament. 

Shortly after, the so-called "Progressist party," chiefly composed of middle 
class men and numbering among its leaders some opportunist politicians, held 
its annual convention. In accordance with the traditional policy of its class in 
all countries, this party recognized the strength of the popular movement and 
undertook to place itself at the head of it— for the obvious purpose of ulti- 
mately conflscating it — by passing a resolution in favor of unlimited universal 
suffrage and proffering its aid to the Socialists, both on the rostrum and in 
Parliament. Not less experienced in tactics than these belated sympathizers 
and inveterate tricksters had on many occasions shown themselves to be, bear- 
ing in mind, also, the precious lessons of history, the Socialist leaders smiled 
complacently and accepted the interested offer for what it was worth, deter- 
mined to use the middle class this time, but under no circumstances to be used 
by it. Thus reinforced they carried on an agitation of unprecedented magnitude 
throughout the country, and wound up the campaign on the eve of the re-as- 
sembling of Parliament with imposing demonstrations, according to the pro- 
gramme laid out in September. 

Almost immediately (Nov. 25) the Chamber unanimously voted to take Into 
consideration the question of revising the Constitution. A few days later, it 
appointed a "Central Section" (or special committee) to study the subject A 
majority of its members, however, consisted of men notoriously opposed to the 
extension of the suffrage, and it became every day more apparent, from its 
waste of time in senseless proceedings, that, trusting in false promises to allay 
the excitement, and in procrastination to maintain the status quo, the Chamber 
intended to do nothing. But the Socialists were wide awake. They renewed 
the agitation with increased vigor, held hundreds of meetings and summoned 
the various dignitaries, individually, to deny the public rumor that they were 
opposed to the political enfranchisement of the proletariat. Lastly, they called 
an extraordinary congress, which was held at Brussels on the 5th of April, 1891, 
and by which it was decided that without further notice a general strike should 
take place on the day when the Central Section or the Chamber would vote 
against the revision of the constitution. 



— 73 — 

Then came the May Day demonstrations and a spontaneous outburst of 
international solidarity. At that time the miners of Westphalia were on strike. 
Without waiting for any other signal the Belgian miners threw down their 
tools in sympathy with their German brethren, protested indignantly against 
the dilatory proceedings of the Central Section, and demanded an immediate 
improvement of their own economic conditions. 

The general council of the party was taken by surprise and feared for a few 
days that this unexpected action of the miners might prove inopportune. But, 
reassured by the advices which it received from the provinces, it promptly en- 
dorsed the strike and pledged to the miners the support of the party. Other 
trades made ready to go out at a moment's notice. 

Bewildered by such unusual evidences of popular tenacity, the Central Sec- 
tion at last — on the 20th of May — unanimously concluded in favor of revising 
the constitution "without unnecessary delay;" whereupon the general council 
ordered the resumption of work, except, however, in the Charleroi district, 
where the strike was continued for economic reasons. Of course, the great ques- 
tion at issue was by no means settled. But the Socialists had succeeded in ex- 
torting from one of the most reactionary Parliaments of Europe a promise 
which could not be broken or the fulfillment of which could not be indefinitely 
postponed without danger to the Crown itself and to the economic institutions 
which that Parliament was above all things anxious to preserve. 

Three months later— from the 16th to the 22d of August— was held at Brus- 
sels the International Congress that the Belgian party, in 1889, had received the 
mission to organize. It was the greatest that had yet been held, and, consider- 
ing the fundamental character of the questions upon which it had to establish 
the position of International Socialism, it was of even greater importance than 
the subsequent ones of Zurich and London. The success of the Belgians in the 
accomplishment of their difficult task was in nothing more apparent than in the 
fact that the various fractions of the Socialist movement in France, which pre- 
viously did not work together, were represented by 69 delegates, who held man- 
dates from 715 organizations, and who, from the first day of the congress to the 
last, acted as a unit. 

The most far-reaching act of this body was unquestionably the exclusion 
of all anarchists, even when some of them claimed — as in the case of the 
Spaniard, Fernandez Gramos, and his companions — that they represented trade 
unions. Disowned by the universal proletariat, unable to call an international 
congress for fear of exposing their numerical weakness, cast out of the great 
army of emancipation in the ranks of which they had so long spread confusion 
and disorganization, deprived of the means to prevent the growth of Socialism 
by fastening upon it the odium of their own secret conspiracies and dark deeds, 
they were actually struck with impotency. From that moment dates the won- 
derful progress of the labor movement on Socialist lines in all the countries or 
districts where the anarchists had previously succeeded, by mere activity and 
audacity, in assuming leadership for purposes of demoralization and chaos. 

The effects of the Brussels Congress were therefore widespread and per- 
manent. In Belgium they were immediate, the organization of labor in its eco- 
nomic and political forms receiving an additional impetus throughout the coun- 
try at a most critical time, when any failure of the Socialists to maintain and 
strengthen their position by extending and consolidating the universal suffrage 
movement would have instantly resulted in a smothering of it by all the forces 
of the reaction. 



— 74 — 

The need of indefatigable perseverance and constant aggression was indeed 
quite obvious. The privileged classes were intent upon forcing a contest of en- 
durance, granting nothing but under compulsion and withdrawing everything 
on the least evidence of proletarian weakness. It was not until the 10th of 
May, 1892, or very nearly a year after the Central Section of Parliament had de- 
cided in favor of constitutional revision, that the Chamber confirmed this de- 
cision, and a full year had just elapsed when, ten days later, the Senate passed 
a similar vote. Parliament was then dissolved and the 14th of June was ap- 
pointed for the election of the Constituent Assembly. Of course the provisions 
of the old law applied to this election, and but few of the workingmen could 
participate in it, on account of the property and other qualifications attached to 
the right of suffrage; so that the Constituent Assembly was to be a body essen- 
tially representative of the privileged classes, therefore as little disposed to 
curtail the political privileges of those classes without external pressure as the 
Parliament had been. To be sure, the Progressist party — the party of "savoir 
lire et 6crire," or, as we would say in our own vernacular, the party of the three 
R's — had so far broadened its platform as to make room in it for universal suff- 
rage. Its candidates, collectively and individually, were pledged to the reform. 
But what would become of the pledge under circumstances impossible to fore- 
see when it was taken, no sensible Socialist would have ventured to foretell. 
Pressure, more pressure, and still more pressure, until either the opposition to 
electoral reform or the economic system itself should burst, such was the 
essential condition of victory. 

As might have been expected, the new Chamber, although composed in ma- 
jority of men who had declared themselves in favor of extending the franchise 
to all male citizens, wasted many months in idle discussion. Scheme upon 
scheme, amendment upon amendment, all tending to modify more or 
less deeply the original proposition of giving equal rights of suffrage to all 
citizens above the age of 21, were introduced, referred, ^'studied" and laid aside 
for further consideration. In the meantime the Socialists displayed extra- 
ordinary activity. Numbers of trades were organized, first locally, then fed- 
erated provincially and nationally. Co-operative associations on the "Vooruit" 
plan and afllliated with the party, continued to multiply. Demonstrations and 
festivals were held at which the "Socialist young guards" by their exhibitions 
of discipline, the choral and instrumental societies by their inspiring songs, 
fairly won the hearts of the people. They carried on also a vigorous propa- 
ganda in the army, and for that purpose issued two special papers, one in 
French and one in Flemish, which were widely distributed to soldiers in the 
streets and even in the barracks. In aid of this movement they formed a So- 
cialist Section of ex-corporals and sergeants. Lastly, to the intense disgust 
of the government and all the conservatives, they organized a "Referendum"; 
that is, they called for a popular vote on the universal suffrage question, and 
opened polling places in many cities, at which the citizens desiring to express 
their opinion were regularly registered before casting their ballot for or 
against the proposition. The result was startling. At Ghent 21,462 votes, or 
more than one-half of the total male population above 21 years of age, were 
cast for universal suffrage. At Brussels, the center of governmental, royal, 
aristocratic, plutocratic and bureaucratic influence, of the 105,000 persons regis- 
tered 56,344 voted likewise in the affirmative. At Alost, in the very district 
which the ultra-reactionist Woeste represented in the Constituent Assembly^ 
three-fourths of the people took this opportunity of repudiating him. Wherever 



— 75 — 

a vote was taken, despite the eagerness of the conservatives to record their op- 
position in order to morally sustain their representatives, universal suffrage 
won the day. 

Compelled by these manifestations of public impatience to make at least a 
show of activity, the Assembly on the 28th of February, 1893, took up the pro- 
posed amendment to Article 47 of the Constitution, providing for equal uni- 
versal suffrage from the age of 21. Yet, on the 2d of April, when the Socialists 
opened at Ghent their ninth regular annual congress, the discussion was still 
dragging along tediously, and had only, so far, served to show more plainly 
than ever the absolute incorrigibleness and perfidious cowardice of the ruling 
classes. It had become evident that unless an issue was forced the Assembly 
would adjourn its first session without acting, and the great question would 
remain in abeyance for another year. After an animated debate, in the course 
of which the various schemes contemplating a voting age of 25 instead of 21 
years, plural suffrage, etc., were considered, the party congress passed a reso- 
lution, instructing the general council to declare the general strike (1) in case 
universal suffrage was rejected by the Chambers, and (2) in case universal 
suffrage, adopted in principle, was subjected to conditions that could not be 
accepted by the working class. 

By that time, instead of realizing that every day's delay had been im- 
proved by the Socialists in makfng effective preparations for the battle which 
they knew to be inevitable, the Government and the Chambers had come to the 
conclusion that the constant threat of a general strike was only a "bluff." 
Sharing in that delusion, the stock exchange brokers and gamblers, the great 
merchants, all those, in short, whose business "holdings," speculations and 
schemes were affected by the prolonged agitation, were demanding that an end 
be put to it by summary process. Vainly— upon the announcement that a 
coalition had been formed by Woeste, Frere, Kerchove and others between par- 
liamentary groups of different colors — did the general council of the party, on 
the 9th of April, issue a last warning and call upon all the labor organizations 
to stand ready for any emergency. The Chamber, on the 11th, by a vote of 115 
to 26, strangled universal suffrage. 

A few hours later, the following manifesto was posted • up in the whole 
country : 

"AN APPEAL TO THE PEOPLE! 

"The Constituent Assembly has rejected universal suffrage. 
"The people cannot accept that decision. 

"The General Council of the Labor Party, confirming its previous resolu- 
tions, hereby proclaim the necessity of a strike, general and immediate." 

Hundreds of mills, shops, yards, etc., until then bustling with human ac- 
tivity, were instantly deserted. On that day, in the Borinage alone, ten thou- 
sand miners had already left their pits. A day later, those of Mons and Char- 
leroi followed suit, while in Brussels and Ghent scores of brawny men, march- 
ing in companies, entered the establishments that had not yet shut down and 
called the workers out. On the 14th of April the port of Antwerp was para- 
lyzed by a strike of the dockers; every cotton, wool and fiax mill in Ghent was 
closed; also, the State arsenal and the machine shops. Similar conditions pre- 
vailed in Verviers. The match factories of Grammont were emptied of their 
half-poisoned operatives. Louvain, Malines and other industrial centers con- 
tributed their increasing share of self-enforced idleness. On the 15th, the num- 



— 76 — 

ber of strikers was 250,000, Tepresenting, with tiheir families, one-fifth of the 
total population of the country. And the wave was still mounting. 

Then the Government attempted intimidation. The troops were held 
under arms, ready to march. The state of siege was proclaimed in Brussels. 
The co-operative "Maison du Peuple," (headquarters of the Labor party), was 
surrounded by the police and access thereto rigorously denied. Meetings were 
forbidden; street gatherings brutally dispersed, houses invaded and searphes 
instituted. Volders, Vandervelde and^ Defnet were arrested but quickly re- 
leased for fear of consequences. A hot-headed member of the "Socialist Young 
Guard," named Lievesque, happening to meet in the street the reactionist 
Woeste, slapped him in the face and drove him to shelter behind the portly 
form of Burgomaster Buls. The police had kicked and cuffed and even severely 
wounded many workingmen; all of which had been taken as a matter of course; 
but the latter incident caused a widespread sensation. 

Lamentably impotent, the parliamentary majority sat, each member 
anxiously looking askance at the other. Assured that the army would pro- 
tect them, they picked up courage and wildly voted down all the propositions 
of constitutional revision that had been submitted since the opening of their 
Assembly. 

Then came the news of bloody conflicts in the provinces between the strik- 
ers and the gendarmes. The people were decidedly angry. They refused to be 
sabred away or shot down peacefully. It was even rumored that in many 
places the strikers were preparing to march upon Brussels, The army itself 
could no longer be implicitly relied upon. At Antwerp, 500 soldiers were 
parading the streets with a red flag, singing the Marseillaise. At Brussels and 
Li^ge the militiamen called out in haste were shouting, "Vive la Sociale!" A 
terrible panic seized the deputies. One of them, Nyssens, hastily drew a pro- 
ject of revision, granting the suffrage to all citizens 25 years old or more, but 
giving from one to two additional votes to certain categories of "tax-payers," 
university graduates and officials. It took just two hours to write, read and 
adopt this somewhat complex amendment, the full nature and workings of 
which not one deputy — ^not even its author — could intelligently comprehend. 
This was on the 18th of April, 1893. The agitation for universal suffrage had 
lasted 8 years outside and inside Parliament The Constituent Assembly had 
sat nine months "studying" propositions. The strike had lasted a week. 

The Nyssens constitutional amendment was not, of course, satisfactory to 
the Socialists. Far from it. Yet, all things considered, it was a great victory 
for the proletariat, and on the evening of that eventful day, after mature de- 
liberation, the General Council of the party, all its members being present, 
unanimously adopted and issued the following resolution: 

"The labor party, taking formal notice of the fact that universal suffrage 
has been inscribed In the Constitution, records the further fact that it was so 
inscribed under the irresistible pressure of a general strike, and is, therefore, 
a flrst conquest of the working class; decides, that while it is now expedient to 
resume work, the battle must otherwise continue with unabated vigor, for the 
abolition of the plural vote and the institution of equality." 

But, even as to the flrst point gained, the end had not yet come. A new 
electoral law had to be passed, providing ways of putting the Nyssens consti- 
tutional amendment into practical operation. There was again a flne oppor- 
tunity for procrastination. The Chambers did not allow it to escape, but, 
moreover, improved it by imposing upon the voters conditions of residence 



— 77 — 

which many workingmen could not fulfil, disfranchising not only the profes- 
sional beggars but all the other victims of capitalism who, for some reason, 
had to permanently or temporarily receive assistance, and disqualifying a 
vast number of^eople who had undergone sentences for trifling delinquencies 
or even for political and press offenses. Another year h&d nearly passed at the 
end of March; 1894, when the party held its tenth annual congress at Quareg- 
non, and the flnal vote on the electoral law had not yet been reached. A num- 
ber of Senators, belonging to the three parties represented in the Constituent 
Assembly, had even proposed a resolution, which, if adopted, would have had 
the effect of prolonging one year the existence of that body, in direct violation 
of the constitution. Against this intended "coup d'6tat" the Socialist Congress 
protested in threatening terms, and as it was now stronger and better organ- 
ized than ever, the more cautious solons thought it wise to avoid a conflict; the 
electoral law was passed and the 14th of October was appointed for the first 
parliamentary election to be held under that law. 

It may well be doubted that anywhere, at any time, a campaign was con- 
ducted with more vigor and devotion than were displayed by the Belgian So- 
cialists, night and day, during the four months immediately preceding that 
memorable election day. Over four thousand meetings were held, two million 
pamphlets were sold or given away. For each great trade or occupation a 
special leaflet was printed and carefully distributed. Extra editions of the 
party papers were likewise abundantly used in the work of propaganda. Car- 
ried by his own enthusiasm every militant became a speaker, an apostle — ^per- 
chance, also, a martyr, for many a time the bloody garments and prostrate form 
of a Socialist agitator testified to the strength of ignorant prejudice or cap- 
italistic argument. 

But in order to comprehend the full import of the result, the political out- 
look at the beginning of the campaign should be considered. 

There were four parties in the field, each essentially representative of a 
class, namely: 

1— The CONSEIRVATIVES— or Clericals— representing the royal coutt, 
the aristocracy and the clergy, all cherishing the remembrance of feudalism, 
and aiming not only at the preservation of such feudal institutions as had sur- 
vived the revolutionary upheavals of a century but at the re-establishment of 
others, in so far, at least, as modem conditions of industry might permit; 

2— The DOCTRINAIRES, representing the higher stratum of the capitalist 
class, or plutocracy, which aimed at the control of government for the purpose 
of extending its economic privileges; 

3— The PROGRESSISTS, representing people of the middle class, a num- 
ber of whom aspired to greater wealth and were, therefore, doctrinaires in 
embryo, although, in common with their less ambitious fellows, they sought 
for the present to check the legislative granting of further privileges to either 
of the two upper classes. 

4 — The SOCIALISTS — or Labor party — representing, as yet, that portion 
only of the proletariat, or manual and intellectual working class, which it had 
succeeded in awakening to the stubborn fact of the class struggle and in en- 
lightening on the nature of its class interests. 

The Conservative was still a powerful party, owing somewhat to the 
numerous bureaucracy and retinue in its public and private dependence, but 
more largely to the widespread influence of the clergy, which was paramount 
In the rural districts as well as in many circles, high and low, of the urban 



— 78 — 

population. Its importance at the polls was furthermore increased by the fact 
that all its prominent members were entitled to three votes each, while many 
of the officials and landowners attached to it were each equal in voting power 
to two citizens of the common sort. • 

The Doctrinaire was certainly the weakest party in number and in votes, 
but its economic power was great and enabled its leaders to command recog- 
nition on the part of the middle class and its astute politicians. 

The Progressists had no doubt of their ability to carry the day. The 
plural vote seemed to be in their favor, on account of the large number of 
middle class men who owned enough property to be counted double at the 
ballot box. This, in itself, was a sufficient explanation of their treachery to 
the people in the Constituent Assembly. Yet they took credit, as a party, for 
the opposition that some of them had made to the strangling of universal 
suffrage pure and simple on the 11th of April, 1893, and still more credit for the 
positioii they took in hurrying the passage of the Nyssens constitutional 
amendment seven days later, claiming that otherwise much proletarian blood 
might have been shed without even securing as much as the plural suffrage. 
Passing lightly over the change of heart manifested by a number of them in 
voting with the Conservatives against the interests of "the populace" despite 
the pledges contained in their party platform, they pleaded circumstances, pub- 
lic order, etc.; and grandiloquently proclaimed that an essential condition of 
parliamentary freedom and personal liberty was that each representative 
should esteem his conscience above party pledges and party discipline. But 
they proudly pointed to two of their ablest leaders, Janson and Feron, who had 
earned the title of "half-Socialists" by their declaration that some time in the 
far future Collectivism would be the established social form. In their opinion, 
then, they were fairly entitled to the votes of all wage- workers, including the 
Socialists, who would commit the mistake of their life if they placed candidates 
in opposition to the Progressist candidates. Of course they looked upon the 
Socialists as powerful agitators but bad politicians, who took no account of 
the fickleness of the populace, of its "natural admiration" for self-made men, 
such as the Progressist politicians were, of its "instinctive submission" to lib- 
eral persons of means who professed to sympathize with the poor, and of its 
readiness to be content with "one thing at a time," ever so little, in order to 
enjoy some improvement of life before the emaciated carcass of its generation 
had been consigned to eternal oblivion in the Potter's Field and its sinful soul 
to eternal damnation in the other world. 

Notwithstanding their assurance of success, and to make success doubly 
sure, the Progressists, therefore, made overtures to the Socialist leaders. They 
were naturally liberal, and on this occasion in particular they would show 
their liberality, or liberalism, to the utmost limits of practicalness. So liberal 
were they, in fact; so ready to sacrifice themselves for the public welfare and 
thereby relegate to the region of fancy any dream of conservative victory, 
that they were at the same time, but secretly, negotiating for a fusion with 
the Doctrinaires. The Socialists heard what they had to say. 

In substance the Progressists' argument and proposition were as follows: 
"The question was settled as far as anything mortal was liable to settlement. 
The next Parliament would be under Progressist control. The labor question 
would be pushed to the front. Many reforms would be introduced. The So- 
cialists would be treated handsomely. For instance, in the city of Brussels, 
which was entitled to 20 seats in Parliament, the Progreysists would only take 



— 79 — 

8 for themselves; they would let the Doctrinaires have 8 also, and they would 
"give" the Socialists 4. Surely the Socialists would Jump at this opportunity 
of entering Parliament and making the echoes of the chamber shout for the 
Social revolution. They could not, at any rate, appear to take the risk of 
causing by their independence a conservative triumph, although there was 
actually no such risk. It would ruin them in the public opinion. It would be 
the end of their career. The Progressists themselves, — aye, the most progres- 
sive of them — would have to abandon the noble cause of Socialism. What a 
set-back for social progress! And suppose, after all, that every certainty to 
the contrary ndtwithstanding, the Conservatives should win. How many 
sacks of ashes would the Socialists have to empty on their own guilty 
heads!" 

Well, the stubborn Socialists, regardless of ashes and of risks and of pro- 
letarian fickleness and of chamber echoes, caring only for the right, bent upon 
achieving all at once and at no distant day the emancipation of the proletariat, 
rejected indignantly the Progressist proposition and went on, as we saw, to 
the battle field with their unbounded faith for armor and their great cause for 
sledge-hammer. 

And now as to the result. 

The Progressists were annihilated. In the whole country they elected only 

9 deputies, 8 of whom had frankly accepted the Socialist programme of im- 
mediate demands and were running in certain districts of Liege and Namur 
where the Labor party had no candidates. 

The Socialists polled 345,959 votes and elected 29 deputies, namely, 9 out- 
right on the 14th of October, 19 on the day of the second ballot a week later, 
and 1 to replace at Liege their comrade L. Defuisseaux, who had also been 
elected at Mons.* 

The official returns showed as follows the number of votes cast for Social- 
ist candidates in each of the 21 electoral divisions where the party was suf- 
ficiently organized to place tickets in the field: 

Brussels *. 40,218 Mons 44,S60 

Nivelles 6,719 Tournai 3,912 

Louvain 5,120 Ath 3,036 

Antwerp 4,871 Soignies ; 16,915 

Malines 1,984 Li^ge 63,562 

Bruges 521 Huy 7,729 

Courtrai 3,721 Verviers 18,080 

Ghent 16,451 Thuin 11,106 

St. Nicholas 1,970 Waremme 1,582 

Alost 2,674 Namuz 32,780 

Charleroi 58,648 

Total 345,959 

The following divisions were those in which Socialist representatives were 
elected: 

Li^e 6 Mons 6 

Verviers 4 Namur 1 

Soignies 3 Thuin 1 

Oharleroi 8 — 

Total 29 



* To be elected on the first ballot a candidate must receive an absolute majority of 
the votes cast On the second ballot the content is between the two candidates who pre- 
viously received the largest number of votes. 



— so- 
on the second ballot the terrified middle class passed over to the Conserva- 
tiye party. A sudden end was thus put to anti-clerical hypocrisy and progres- 
sist false pretense. The conflict was henceforth between the united forces of 
privilege and the dispossessed masses. 

Of course the Conservatives had an overwhelming majority in the new Par- 
liament; a greater majority than they ever had before or than they had ex- 
pected to ever get. But their satisfaction was by no means as great as their 
success. They feared the new enemy they had to meet. They realized that the 
parliamentary debates would no longer be a mere oratorical tournament; that 
corrupt schemes and disgraceful acts could no longer be hidden under the 
bushel of political compromise; that while they could largely outvote their 
opponents on every question, they would be lashed most mercilessly with the 
whip of truth before the whole country; that, in short, there was lightning in 
the comparatively small Socialist cloud which hung over the chamber, and 
that, whenever it struck, there would be a roar of thunder all over the land. 

But 80 it was, and it could not be helped. In the words of an American 
President, it was "not a theory but a condition." How to get out of it was the 
question; in reply to which the government gently whispered in the long ears 
of its parliamentary majority, "By brazen audacity." 

The new electoral law applied only to parliamentary elections. Under 
that law the number of votes cast was about 1,800,000, or considerably more 
than twice the number of actual voters who had to be at least 25 years old 
besides fulfilling certain conditions of residence, etc. Another law remained 
to.be passed for municipal and communal (or town) elections. An analysis of 
the vote already polled by the Socialists in October, 1894, showed plainly that 
if the same conditions were adopted for the municipal as for the parliament- 
ary elections, disadvantageous as the plural system already was to the Social- 
ists, yet these would get by the mere force of their numbers the absolute con- 
trol of important cities, such as Brussels, Ghent, Charleroi, Mens, Soignies, 
Li^e, Verviers and Namur, and also of many towns of less magnitude. The 
government was determined to prevent, if possible, such a "calamity." There- 
fore the Cabinet introduced a bill, in Parliament, which was promptly passed^ 
not, however, before it had been characteristically branded by Anseele, of 
Ghent, as the "Law of the Four Infamies," for the following reasons: 

1. — The voting age was raised to 30 years; which decreased the number 
of wage working voters in a far greater proportion than it did the number of 
other people entitled to the franchise, owing to the much higher mortality of 
the former than of the latter. Besides, an immense majority of the Socialists 
were men between the ages of 21 and 30. Socialism, indeed, as we see it to- 
day, is essentially a movement of the present generation, although it was 
fathered by a comparatively few of the preceding one. 

2. — The required time of local residence was raised to 3 years; a condition 
which in these days of growing unsteadiness of employment at any one place, 
was equivalent to a wholesale disfranchisement of the wage workers. 

3.— The establishment of 4 classes of voters, according to property qualifi- 
cations, instead of the three already established by the parliamentary election 
law. 

4. — ^The granting of 4 votes to each member of the richest class. 

Again the question of ordering a general strike came before the general 
council of the party. The indignation was intense and the masses were no 
doubt readier than they had yet been for self-sacrifice. But, for this very 



— 81 — 

reason, every member of the council and of the Sociali&t parliamentary dele- 
ff&tion, more considerate of his fellows than of his own popularity, determined 
to wait until an opportunity had been afforded to the public sentiment of mani- 
festing itself more pacifically, though not less strongly. 

And this opportunity came almost instantly. Two seats in the Chamber 
became vacant by the death of their incumbents, one at Ostend, the other at 
Thuin. In the Ostend district the Socialists were so weak in 1894 that they had 
been unable to place a ticket in the field. Now, however, they nominated a 
candidate and carried on a vigorous campaign, causing a substantial loss of 
votes to conservatives and liberals alike, and upsetting all previous political 
-conditions. At Thuin, in 1894, they had cast 11,106 votes and elected one can- 
didate. They now contested the vacant seat and obtained at the first ballot 
18,111 votes, against 16,083 cast for the clericals and 9,460 for the doctrainairee. 
At the second ballot, a few days later, against the combination of liberals, doc- 
trinaires and conservatives, their candidate failed of election by only 24 
votes, receiving 22,185 as against 22,209 given to his* opponent. The significance 
of this remarkable progress was the greater as Thuin was chiefiy an agricul- 
tural district. 

The parliamentary forces of conservatism did not, however, heed these 
popular warnings, which, on the contrary, acted upon them as incentives to 
further reaction. Relying upon the high clergy for moral aid of the most 
effective sort in combating Socialism, they now proposed to turn over to the 
educational institutions of the church, as subsidies, a large portion of the public 
school budget. They did not see that they could thus gain nothing and lose 
much. The high clergy had long been acquired to them, and it was safe to say 
that under any circumstances it would remain faithful to the conservative 
cause, it was not for the lack of means or of privileges that it had found itself 
unable to arrest the growth of Socialist sentiment. In the lower clergy, di- 
rectly issued from the proletariat, there were already many signs of sympathy 
with the economic aims and political tactics of the Socialist movement. On the 
other hand, any attempt to cripple the public school system would naturally 
create an intense dissatisfaction among the teachers, who constituted a large, 
intelligent and infiuential body of men, spread, like the church itself, over the 
whole country. The result could easily be foreseen by any one not so hope- 
lessly blind as a conservative parliament. Many schoolmasters openly be- 
came Socialists, and formed a federation directly affiliated with the party. The 
party itself, through its general council; issued a stirring address to the people, 
calling for a great demonstration at Brussels in favor of religious freedom and 
non-sectarian schools. One hundred thousand men responded. They came 
frem all parts of the country. All in vain; the objectionable law was passed. 

The year 1895 was also marked by a number of local strikes unprecedented 
in magnitude and bitterness. Some at least of these occurrences contributed 
to extend and fortify the economic or trade union organizations of the party. 
It was actually in that year that the "lock-out" made its first appearance in 
Belgium, and in the official words of the general council at the national con- 
gress of Charleroi in April, 1896, ''it did more for the party than any campaign 
of propaganda had yet done." It certainly developed and intensified through- 
out Belgium the feeling of class solidarity. This lock-out took place in an iron- 
works of Ghent. It lasted three months. It not only resulted in a substantial 
victory for the employees, but brought into the Socialist union nine-tenths of 
the iron workers of that city. Moreover, its effect was strongly felt in many 



— 82 — 

, other trades of Grhent, sucli as the textile workers, the wood- workers, the 
builders, etc., whose aggregate union membership rose in nine months from 
2,400 to 9,500. At the same time a Socialist mutual help organization, known 
as the Moyson League, and numbering many women, attained a membership 
of 12,452. Progress in the same direction was general in all the manufactur- 
ing centers. 

Thus reinforced on all sides by constant accessions of wage workers dis- 
gusted beyond endurance with the growing despotism of the ruling classes in 
the political and economic fields, the Socialists met again the enemy at the 
polls on the 17th of November, 1895. These were the first communal elections 
under the new law passed for the especial purpose of placing municipal affairs 
beyond the reach of Socialists by advancing from 25 to 30 years the voting age 
in this class of elections, giving property owners as many as 4 votes each, and 
exacting among other voting qualifications such a length of residence as to dis- 
franchise a large proportion of the wage-working and necessarily shifting 
"populace." The odds were stupendous. 

The whole number of communes in Belgium is a little over 2,000, a ma- 
jority of which are essentially agricultural. The party was able to put up 
candidates in only 507; but these comprised most of the manufacturing centers. 

Despite all the obstacles just mentioned, the party obtained representation 
in 288 communes, thirty of which were towns of over 15,000 inhabitants. It 
carried an absolute majority of the seats in 78 Councils. In Brussels, Ghent, 
Li^ge and the other great communes, numbering altogether 763,000 inhabit- 
ants, the seats were equally divided between the Clericals, the Liberals and the 
Socialists. 

The government had miserably failed to stem the tide with its legislative 
broomstick. Flushed with victory the Socialists did not rest one moment 
upon their laurels. Legislative elections were to be held in one half of the 
parliamentary districts on July 5, 1896. Among these districts were some in 
which the party was weakest and even entirely unorganized. An overwhelm- 
ing majority of the urban population was evidently now acquired to the party. 
Further progress depended in great measure upon its ability to gain a foot- 
hold in the rural citadels of conservatism. A special plan of agitation was de- 
vised for the purpose, and the campaign was immediately entered upon with 
incredible activity. Every Sunday numbers of villages were visited by city 
comrades in family parties apparently bent upon recreation. Acquaintances 
were struck with the peasants. Socialist songs were sung, leaflets distributed, 
and arrangements flnally made for agitation meetings. When at last the 
burgomasters undertook to forbid open-air assemblages it was too late; there 
was always an inn or a bam or a walled inclosure within which the speaker 
could hold forth if driven out of the public thoroughfare, and his audience was 
the larger for the excitement caused by official interference. True, the meet- 
ings were not always peaceful. Conservative men, men of peace, morality, 
order and property were apt to resent with insults, and even with blows, any 
suggestion that all was not peaceful, orderly, moral and legitimate in a system 
that made property the reward of idleness. Any such disturbance, however, 
opened more widely the eyes of the poor peasant or farm laborer, warmed 
his proletarian blood, made him class conscious, and in numberless ways 
served the cause of Socialism. 

Higher still the wave mounted. In 1894, of the parliamentary districts 
where elections had again to be held In 1896 the party had carried only one — 



— 83 — 



• 



namely, in Namur, where Defnet, associate editor of the Brussels 'Teuple/' 
had been elected by a majority of 3,600. In 1896, Defnet was re-elected by a 
still larger majority, and, while no new seat was gained, the Socialist vote 
increased enormously, as is shown by the following figures: 

1894. 1896. Increase. 

Brussels 40,000 71,000 31,000 

Nivelles 6,500 19,900 13,400 

Antwerp 4,800 9,000 4,200 

Bruges 500 8,000 7,500 

Courtrai 3,600 11,800 8,200 

Louvain 5,000 18,000 13,000 

Namur (majorities) 3,600 5,000 1,400 

Ostend • 1,900 1,900 

Ypres 3,300 3,300 

Roulers 3,300 3,300 

Dinant 14,900 14,900 

Philippeville 6,700 6,700 

Total 64,000 172,800 108,800 

No Socialist candidates were running in 1894 in the districts of Ostend, 
Ypres, Roulers, Dinant and Philippeville. In 1896, as appears from the above 
table, these districts cast over 30,000 Socialist votes. The Dinant territory is 
extensive and almost entirely deprived of railways. The Socialists carried on 
there a remarkable campaign, meeting at every step violent opposition organ- 
ized by the clergy — which before their appearance had an entire control of the 
population — yet finally getting 15,000 votes for their candidates. 

It may also be observed that with a vote of 71,000 the Socialists did not 
elect one candidate in the districts of Brussels. The Clericals carried every 
seat. The Liberals, who two years before had hypocritically professed so 
much sympathy for the Socialists and so much hatred for the "common 
enemy," now ran dummy candidates, certain of defeat, for the sole purpose of 
preventing a Socialist triumph. They only delayed it, and succeeded in this 
at the cost of their own existence as a party. 

Again, in considering the result the plural vote must be borne in mind. 
The 71,000 Socialist votes cast in Brussels, for instance, represent probably a 
majority of the voters of that city, poor men, having only one vote each; 
whereas the Clericals have each from 2 to 3 votes, and their majority at the 
polls no doubt represents a minority of the voting population. If this and 
other considerations be extended to the whole country it seems safe to say 
that in 1896 the Socialists of all ages, voting and non-voting, numbered very 
nearly if not quite one-half of the men over 21 years old. 

Since then the movement has developed enormously. At the 13th annual 
congress of the party, held at Ghent on the 18th and 19th of April, 1897, there 
were 596 delegates representing 489 organizations of all sorts — trade federa- 
tions, political clubs, educational institutions, mutual benefit societies, co* 
operative associations, etc. — all, of course, aflSliated to the party, and nearly all 
created by it; each being, within its particular sphere, an active organ of this 
great organism, the workings of which (including especially the part acted in 
it by the co-operative associations) will be separately considered in a future 
edition. In two days this remarkable congress, imbued with a spirit of 
proletarian solidarity that left no room for fundamental differences on any 



— 84 — • ■ 

subject, settled more questions than could have been disposed of in two years 
by a middle class parliament, constantly hampered and frequently paralyzed 
by conflicting interests. Almost entirely composed of those despised, "ig- 
norant" wage workers, that the employing class deems unfit to manage any 
public or private business, it gave the country an unexampled spectacle of prac- 
tical ability, and in the aggressive measures it took for further advance along 
the whole line of battle displayed a perception of detail, a comprehension of 
integrality and an accuracy of aim that sent a shiver through the rotten back- 
bone of capitalism. As we dose this chapter a parliamentary election is im- 
pending in Belgium. We shall see. 



Since the foregoing pages were written the electoral battle referred to 
in our closing lines has been fought out. Its outcome was a grander victory 
for the Belgian Socialists than the most sanguine of them had dared to expect. 
As already stated, of the Parliament elected under the new constitution in 
1894, the first half went out in 1896 and elections were then held in one half 
of the districts to fill the seats of the members whose term had expired. Now 
came the turn of the second half, whose term expired in 1898. The latest 
known strength of the various parties in the whole country is therefore ob- 
tained by adding their respective vote of 1896 in one-half of the districts, and 
of 1898 in the other half. When this is done the following comparison for 
1894 and 1898 is afforded: 



Parties. 


1898- 


1894. 


Increase. 


Decrease. 


Socialist 


534,324 

361,307 

848,047 

58,984 


334,500 

544,237 

943,825 

23,000 


199,824 
35,984 




Liberal 


182,980 


Conservative 


96,779 


Christian-Democrat 




Total vote . . . *. 


1,802,662 


1,845,562 1 








1 





From the above figures it appears that in the four years 1894 — 1898, the So- 
cialists gained nearly 200,000 votes, or 60 per cent.; the Liberals (middle class 
party), lost 182,980 votes, or 34 per cent.; the Conservatives (aristocratic and 
plutocratic party) lost 96,779 votes, or over 10 per cent., and the Christian 
Democrats (sometimes called Christian Socialists), gained about 36,000 votes, 
evidently taken from the Conservatives. 

Despite these great changes at the ballot box, the strength of the parties 
in the House of Representatives remains almost exactly the same. Notwith- 
standing the enormous increase of their vote and owing to combinations be- 
tween Liberals and Conservatives, the Socialists, who previously had 29 de- 
puties, elected only 28. With substantial gains in Verviers they lost 4 seats 
there, but gained 3 in Thuin and Huy. In considering the above returns the 
effects of the plural suffrage must be borne in mind. 



SOCIALISM IN AUSTRIA. 



There were only a few Socialists in Austria, scattered and unorganized, 
when in the last days of 1867 some "economic reformers" of the Schultze- 
Delitsch school undertook to hold a series of meetings in Vienna for the pur- 
pose of establishing co-operative stores. At one of those gatherings, which was 
attended by six thousand working people, the Socialist Hartung obtained the 
floor. In a brilliant speech, buttressed with the powerful arguments which 
Ferdinand Lassalle had a few years before used in his discussion, now historical, 
with Schultze-Delitsch himself, he so completely routed the "co-operators" that 
the vast audience tore up the by-laws of the association that had just been 
formed, and resolved itself into a Socialist organization, which immediately 
entered into communication with the "International." ^ 

Four months later (May 10, 1868), a manifesto was issued in the German, 
Hungarian, Bohemian, Polish, Roumanian and Italian languages, calling upon 
the toiling millions of the empire to unite and organize for the attainment of 
the following objects: 

1 — Universal and direct suffrage. 

2 — Bmancipation of the working class from capitalistic tyranny. 

3 — Complete freedom of speech and association; liberty of the press. 

4 — International brotherhood of labor and consequent abolition of war. 
"Capital," said the manifesto, "has no nationality, no race, no frontiers. 
Neither has labor power, which in all countries is subjected to the same use and 
abuse." 

On that day also a deputation was sent to the government to demand uni- 
versal suffrage. The claim, of course, was ignored. But the organization of the 
masses proceeded with such rapidity that on the 18th of December, 1869, upon a 
call issued by the Central Committee, one hundred thousand men assembled in 
Vienna, marched in military order to the legislative palace, and presented the 
demands formulated in the manifesto of 1868, with a supplementary one for the 
abolition of permanent armies and the substitution therefor of a militia com- 
prising all the citizens able to bear arms. 

The ruling classes were terrified. The Prime Minister, after conferring 
with the Emperor, promised that the demands would be duly considered. Sus- 
picious, yet law-abiding, the great procession filed away in the same perfect 
order as it had observed in coming; not, however, until the statement had been 
made by its leaders that if the demands were not granted the people would 
come again, and in greater numbers, to signify their will. On the following 
day the leaders were arrested, the Socialist papers were suppressed, and a 
large military force was concentrated at Vienna to prevent any demonstration 
that might be attempted. 

During the era of despotism and persecution that followed, the movement 
for a time preserved its vigor. But, owing to the nearly complete disfranchise- 
ment of the proletariat, it could not, as in Germany, assume the form of a great 
political party; nor did the Anarchists, in spite of their efforts, succeed in side- 



— 86 — 

tracking it, although they succeeded well enough, by an occasional ''propa- 
ganda of the deed/' in strengthening the government. When the International 
went out of existence, the more devoted among those who were imbued with its 
principles concluded to carry on, quietly but steadily, an educational agitation 
until the time came, in the natural course of economic and political develop- 
ments, when it would be possible to resume work on a scale of greater mag- 
nitude and upon such tactical lines as the surrounding conditions might thea 
suggest. Realizing the extent to which the march of Social Democracy in the 
German Empire would of itself prove a factor of education and encouragement 
in their own country, they intently watched its advance and enthusiastically 
heralded its victories. 

They were not disappointed. From 1880 to 1887 the propaganda became 
very active, and resulted in a good beginning of organization. 

In Bohemia, especially, the movement grew apace; not only among the 
German-speaking inhabitants, chiefly settled in the Northeast, but among the 
Czechs — or Bohemians proper — who constitute more than three-fifths of the 
population of that important part of the Austrian Empire. The conditions 
there were such, however, that Anarchistic appeals to passion naturally evoked 
a readier response from the oppressed workers than could be obtained by the 
Socialistic method of cooHheaded, clear-sighted, scientific and determined ad- 
vance to a well-defined objective point. The Anarchists, therefore, were not 
slow in availing themselves of every opportunity to gain influence and to pre- 
pare the ground for those factional dissensions which, there as elsewhere, had 
finally to be ended by the summary process of repudiation and separation in 
order to arrive at a thoroughly homogeneous and really strong movement. 

It was from their intercourse with the Germans that the Czechs had first 
acquired some notions of Socialism. But the vigilance of the Bohemian author- 
ities, who promptly confiscated every tract, leaflet or other literature obviously 
destructive of "sound ideas and honest sentiments" concerning property, 
had rendered the dissemination of Socialist truth practically impossible until a 
Bohemian edition of Schaeffle's "Quintessence of Socialism" made its appear- 
ance. Owing to the high position which its author had occupied in the imperial 
councils, this work could not well be suppressed, and it was hungrily perused by 
the multitude. Only within the past seven years did the Czechs, have access to 
some of Marx*s and Bebel's writings. Nevertheless, as already stated, their 
progress was rapid in the early eighties. It was also marked by extraordinary 
suffering. "Hundreds of Socialists," writes Josef Hybes, who represented the 
Czechs at the London Congress of 1896, "were dragged in chains to Prague from 
all parts of Bohemia. The packed Senate of the Provincial Assembly operated 
as surely and swiftly as the guillotine. To this very day some victims of that 
era of persecution are languishing in Bohemian dungeons. Most of the labor 
unions were dissolved. The party organs were suppressed and their staffs 
thrown into prison." 

After a six years' reign of terror, the persecutors relented. Not that they 
were tired of cruelty; for mercy is an unknown sentiment to the ruling classes 
so long as their privileges are contested or threatened; but because they fondly 
believed that they had succeeded in eradicating Socialism from the land, and 
feared that any further display of harshness, by perpetuating discontent, 
might prove more hurtful than beneflcial to their interests. Some even as- 
sumed a benevolent attitude and talked patronizingly of measures "for the im- 
provement of the working class." To their dismay, however, they soon found 



— 87 — 

that the Bohemian Social-Democratic party was anything but a corpse; that it 
was, in fact, a more active soul in a more lively body than it had ever been; and 
that it could no more be soothed by middle class "social reform" syrup than 
driven out of existence by persecution. This was made evident to them In 
1887, when the party held a conference at Brunn and elaborated a new pro- 
gramme, the terms of which, however, were to hold good only until the Social- 
ist organizations of the whole empire, through their representatives, assembled 
in convention, had adopted a general platform, binding upon all; for — it wa& 
declared — although the differences of language and other circumstances neces- 
sitated the formation of autonomous organizations by the different peoples of 
the empire with a view to the better conduct of agitation and action, each of 
them should only be an organic member of the whole Austrian party, con- 
sidered as an indivisible body. 

In order to comprehend the full import of this declaration, certain funda- 
mental conditions of Austrian politics should right here be understood. Each 
of the nationalities united into an Empire under the Habsburg crown, has its 
own language, its own interests, its own ambitions. Again, in each nationality 
there are different classes, with special interests, more or less antagonistic. 
Therefore, a so-called "national" middle class party in Bohemia, for instance, is 
essentially a Bohemian party, whose interests may at times clash with those 
of a so-called "national" middle class party in Galicia, or In Styria, or in Hun- 
gary. Likewise, the aristocracy of the Empire, though occasionally united 
upon general questions involving the preservation of its privileges, is fre- 
quently divided against itself upon so-called "national" lines. A striking il- 
lustration of the effects that may be produced by such a political structure was 
lately afforded in the riotous proceedings of the Reichsrath, consequent upon the 
attempted co-ordination of the German and Czech languages in Bohemia, and 
followed by the fall of the Badeni cabinet. Now, the declaration of the Bo- 
hemian Socialists, in strict accordance with the fundamental principle of In- 
ternational Socialism, meant that the proletarian classes of the whole Empire^ 
regardless of language, race, nationality, creed or employment, were to be a po- 
litical, economical and intellectual unit against each and all of the so-called 
"national" parties. 

This brave challenge of the Bohemian Comrades to the warring cohorts of 
despotism was reissued with emphasis the following year (1888) by all the 
Austrian Socialist forces at the Congress of Vienna: where the party as it now 
exists was constituted, with its several autonomous organizations. 

The immediate object of the party necessarily was to obtain universal 
suffrage; an aim which it had no means of attaining but by constantly harass- 
ing the government, the great capitalists, and even the small bourgeoisie. The 
Socialists, therefore, concentrated a large amount of energy upon the organiza- 
tion of trade unions, although under the law they could not directly affiliate 
those economic bodies with their political party. The Austrian Government 
has, indeed, carried out to the letter Sam Gompers' "American idea," so-called, 
of "No Politics in Trade Unions;" and should this "Pure-and-Simple" British 
histrion ever "go to Austria," it would not be by the organized labor but by 
the organized tyranny of the country that he would be welcome. 

One of their first opportunities in this field of work was the great strike on 
the tramways. They improved it fearlessly and at no small cost. Persecution 
revived. In Vienna their official organ, the "Gleichheit," was seized and its 
editors were imprisoned as "Anarchists." At Steiermark and at Trieste the 



— 88 — 

judiciary gave the law a similar twist in its treatment of Socialist leaders. 
Nevertheless they won the strike and united the tramway employees into a 
powerful organization. So great waQ their activity in all branches of trade 
that at the Brussels International Congress of 1891 their delegates reported 
"from incomplete statistics" 230 unions, with a membership of over 48,000. 

At the same time they built up a powerful press. The number of their po- 
litical organs, which in 1889 was already 6, with an aggregate circulation of 
15,400, rose in eighteen months to 16, with a total circulation of 50,000. In a 
still shorter period they established 19 trade papers, with a subscription list of 
44,000. At Zurich in 1893 they reported 23 political organs, 13 of which were 
published in German, 8 in Bohemian and 2 in Polish. The Vienna press alone 
had a circulation of 32,000 copies, read by not less than 100,000 people. 

Such achievements, in the face of obstacles apparently insurmountable, 
and by men reduced in their means of life to a point apparently below the 
minimum requirement of animal existence, were well calculated to make the 
enemy pause and consider. As every persecution seemed to strengthen the 
movement, and as the Socialist press, even so trammeled, could not only ex- 
pound and defend the principles of the party but expose turpitudes and attack 
offenders, the capitalist became less insolent, the police more circumspect, the 
judiciary less prone to inflict sentences, and the middle class began to hypo- 
critically profess some sympathy for the "poor workman." 

This improvement in the attitude of their despoilers did not blind the 
awakening masses to the true causes of it. Unaccompanied by economic or 
political concessions, it rather opened their eyes more widely to the advan- 
tages which they could only gain by sustaining the aggressive and uncompro- 
mising policy of the Socialists. 

"May Day," instituted by the Paris International Congress of 1889, was also 
most effective in propagating sentiments of proletarian solidarity. Its first ob- 
servance by the wage-working class in 1890 was general throughout the 
Austrian Empire. In 1893, coming a few days after the Belgian Comrades had 
won the battle for universal suffrage, the demonstrations assumed gigantic 
proportions. The enthusiasm of the people could not be restrained either by 
capitalistic threats or military display. One hundred and fifty thousand men 
^nd women paraded the thoroughfares of Vienna with bands and banners, 
cheering at every step for "Universal Suffrage" and the "International Social 
Democracy." 

The public clamor for political rights now became so loud and so constant 
that it could no longer be ignored by the government, even though such a 
typical reactionist as Count Taaffe was at that time at the head of the Im- 
perial Cabinet. In October, 1893, proposals on the lines of the Belgian scheme 
— namely, granting the suffrage to the proletarian masses of city and country, 
but otherwise calculated to maintain the political preponderance of the pos- 
sessing classes — were brought in by the Ministry. This in itself, regardless of 
what might subsequently happen, was an immense triumph for the Socialists. 
It established the fact that to them, and to them alone, the disinherited must 
look for the assertion and conquest of their every right. 

These proposals threw the Austrian Parliament into convulsions. The 
three great reactionary parties — the aristocratic, the clerical and the upper 
middle class — arose in their wrath and banded themselves together, into a great 
coalition against the man who had dared to give form to a political idea so 
revolutionary in principle, so far-reaching in its social consequences. Count 



— 89 — 

Taaife was defeated, and those hitherto mutually destructive parties fell into 
line as one reactionary force to resist the demands of the workers. 

But the ijifamous Ministry of that coalition (the Windischgr&tz Ministry, 
formed on Nov. 23, 1893) found upon taking the reins of government that it 
could not summarily dismiss or violently suppress the now firmly planted idea 
of suffrage reform. With unprecedented energy and unbounded enthusiasm 
the Social-Democratic party now carried on a ceaseless agitation. To the 
official persecution of its members, which was again becoming intolerable, it 
boldly replied with the threat of a general strike, without, however, entertain- 
ing any illusion on the outcome of such a desperate step. Driven to cover by 
this unexpected display of unconquerable determination. Ministry and Parlia- 
ment resorted to dilatory tactics, referring the franchise question from the 
cabinet to the Chamber, from the Chamber to a standing committee, and from 
that committee to a sub-committee, whose deliberations were to be privately 
conducted. From time to time a most complicated and impracticable scheme 
was presented, affording the desired opportunity for interminable discussion. 
Meanwhile mass meetings were held under Socialist auspices in large and small 
towns, and bloody conflicts between the police and the people were of almost 
daily occurrence, owing to illegal interference and willful provocation on the 
part of the authorities. Finally, the shooting down of strikers at Falkenau and 
Ostrau and the mining disaster of Karwin so aroused the indignation of the 
people that the Ministry, unable to resist any longer the immense pressure of 
the franchise issue, brought out the legislative scheme concocted in the secrecy 
of their parliamentary sub-committee. This was, of course, a disgraceful 
abortion; a mockery of fundamental law. The moment it became known, the 
uproar throughout the country, and even in Parliament, was tremendous. The 
coalition broke down and sunk out of sight in general scorn and contempt — 
Triumph No. 2 for the Social Democracy. 

Then followed the Badeni Ministry, which at last "succeeded" in develop- 
ing a scheme of "electoral reform" that proved acceptable to the privileged 
classes. This was of necessity received by the Socialists, not by any means as 
a first installment of the great debt owing to the proletariat, but as a prying 
tool of some possible use in effecting an entrance into Parliament, where the 
few of them who might squeeze in through the narrow opening just made 
would be able to agitate, educate and generally bombard the citadel of privi- 
lege from a more elevated position. 

Here, again, a brief explanation is necessary to the understanding of the 
"reform" in question. 

Under the old electoral law, (1) the aristocracy and the high clergy, (2) the 
great capitalists, (3) the bourgeoisie (or middle class) of cities, and (4) the 
peasant proprietary, constituted four district electoral classes, or "curiae," 
each of which sent to the lower house of Parliament a certain number of 
deputies. Under the new law this division is maintained, and the total number 
of deputies sent by the four privileged classes is, as it was before, 353. But the 
proletariat, the wage- workers, the dispossessed, the productive masses of the 
empire, upon the labor of which emperor, noble, bishop, capitalist, trader and 
landowner are dependant for existence, and which had no representation at 
all in the Reichsrath under the old law, have been politically dignified into a 
curia, entitled to 72 deputies, or one-sixth of the whole number. Any single 
one of the four privileged curiae can, in fact, outvote in Parliament the pro- 
letarian curia. 



— 90 — 

The least numerous but most privileged of the four upper curiae is, of 
course, the first, composed of nobles and prelates. A baker's dozen of these 
lords and eminences may own a whole electoral district, and are therefore en- 
titled to one representative, while it may take 50,000 plebeian voters in a crowded 
center of population to elect a deputy. (In Bohemia, for instance, 28 per cent, 
of the soil is owned by 362 persons, chiefiy nobles. And note, by the way, that 
the Bohemian land-owning magnate is also an employer of labor in various in- 
dustries other than agriculture. He is brewer, distiller, glass and sugar manu- 
facturer, timber merchant and colliery owner all in one. Nowhere else in the 
world is "agrarian industrialism" so fully developed as in Bohemia, Moravia 
and Silesia). To this powerful mediaeval class belongs also the upper house of 
Parliament, the house of lords, which is composed of princes, nobles, arch- 
hishops, bishops and life members appointed by the Emperor. 

The second curia is essentially representative of capitalism in its highest 
development. It is composed of the chambers of commerce, whose members are 
elected by private corporations, bankers and great merchants. From this mere 
statement an idea may be formed of the character, views and abilities of tfie 
•deputies of this curia. 

As regards the city and country bourgeoisies, or middle classes, which con- 
stitute the two next curiae, it may be observed that their influence, like their 
numerical strength, is now on the wane. The original intent of the Constitu- 
tion, — which had been framed in times of political and social tunnoil, when 
the middle classes were at the height of their power — had been to place in their 
hands the reins of government But, by a strange combination of economic 
•evolution and feudal reaction, the plutocracy has steadily forged to the front 
while the aristocracy regained its standing. Yet, with every plutocratic or 
aristocratic encroachment, tending to shorten the life of the middle class, the 
bourgeois parties, whose chief characteristic is to be stone-blind evenrwhere 
and under all circumstances, are growing more bitter against Socialism, wliich 
would extinguish the class but save the man, and more servile to the actual 
destroyers of both the class and the man. 

At last the electoral campaign opened. Although powerful as a body of 
■agitators, already capable of iHofbundly stirring the working masses in nearly 
all parts of the vast empire, the Socialists were not yet, by far, soffici^itly 
organiied to place everywhere candidates in the field. Their pecuniary 
means, also, were very limited. Again, some of their most effective speakers, 
writers and organiiers were pining away behind prison bars. Lastly, every in- 
fiuence, every device, every mode of intimidation that could be brought to bear 
upon the dependent, the timid or the ignorant, by the privileged and their 
lackeys was unscrupulously used to the utmost extent. Fraud was also re- 
ported to on a stupendous scale. The day of voting was not the same in 
different places. In the rural districts there was actually no day fixed in ad- 
vance, and the casting of votes took place at any village when a perambulat- 
ing commission, appointed for the purpose of collecting the suffrages, made its 
appearance. This commission was usually accompanied by gendarmes or 
soldiery. On many occasions notice was given of its coming to the local 
authorities so that those only w»e secretly informed and could vote wlio 
mi^t be depended upon to ''vote ri^t.** In ord^ to carry out this plan nHura 
elfectively, the commission would arrive late in the evening, the trusted Totera 
jOone would be awakened, and the election would be held at midnight. Tkia 
vemsMBts rebeiled Mgminst this practice; they kept up videttes to warn tbeaa of 



— 91 — 

the arrival of the commission and appeared in full force at the ballot box. 
This gave rise to warm protests, to indignant denunciations, and finally to 
riots, which were quelled by gendarmes and soldiers with the sabre and the 
bayonet. The spilling of blood was officially justified by the commission and 
unofficially by the government organs, on the remarkable ground that the 
"rebels" were men "dissatisfied with having been granted the right of suffrage," 
and this sovereign right had to be vindicated at any cost of limb, or of life if 
necessary. 

For all that, when the count had all been made up, it was found that the 
Socialist candidates had received 750,000 votes, and that fifteen of them had 
been elected, seven of whom were from Bohemia. 

On that day of March, 1897 — the coldest day on record for the privileged 

classes of Austria, the most pleasantly warm for her proletariat — a mighty 

shout went up from the Alps to the Karpaths, from the Danube to the Vistula, 

It was re-echoed throughout Europe, and many a Socialist heart in America 

throbbed with delight and hope. The day of universal deliverance is surely 

coming. 

* * * 

A peculiarity of the labor movement in Austria, which we have endeavored 
to make quite plain in the foregoing pages, and which commends it to the 
attention of Americans, is that the diversity of races and languages in the* 
empire, instead of proving the most serious obstacle to the propagation of So- 
cialism, has contributed to give it there, in a "higher degree, perhaps, than any- 
where else, its true international character. 

The chief difficulty with which the Austrian Comrades have had to con- 
tend, and one that does not exist to the same extent in any other country, is th& 
difference of economic conditions in the various parts of that great political 
aggregate, over which a Habsburg is still reigning in somewhat feudal style. 
While manufacturing industries of the most advanced type are flourishing in 
certain regions and turning out products actually unequalled in the world, in 
other regions agriculture not only is the sole occupation of the people, but has. 
hardly progressed beyond the early ways of civilization. The great estates, the 
best cultivated, are owned by the nobles or great capitalists, whose relations, 
to the peasantry are essentially those of the ancient lords to their villeins five- 
hundred years ago. In great cities the artisan, although injuriously affected 
in many ways by the competition of machine work, has not yet been driven 
out of existence, and the small merchant, who bewails his own deeltne but re- 
joices at the failure of his fellow tradesman, is still a being of much import- 
ance. Here, then, we have a cc mposite structure of advanced capitalism, mid- 
dle class individualism and antiquated feudalism, the triple face of which i& 
necessarily reflected in the manners of the people and in their national legis- 
lation. 

To preserve this incongruous structure, made up of three plundering 
classes respectively belonging to different ages; to harmonize those three "in- 
terests," naturally antagonistic, in securing to each its "proper share" of the* 
wealth exclusively produced by a fourth class, fit only to be robbed so long as it 
remains unconscious of its power and destiny; such is the problem with wnich 
the modem "statesmen" of Austria are constantly wrestling; a problem of po- 
litical acrobatics far more complicated than was centuries ago the purely mil- 
itary one of gathering under one crown different races of the same social and 
economic age. 



— 92 — 

To awaken the fourth class; to strike the hour, projected by the sun of 
progress on the dial of time» when that class must emerge in full consciousness 
from the animal state and be the whole of humanity; such is the task of So- 
cialists everywhere; a task by no means easy in Austria, and, for that matter, 
most difficult where it seems easiest; but a simple one, that all are irresistibly 
impelled to perform, who, seeing the light, know that the day has come. 



SOCIALISM IN FRANCE. 



We reserve for the next number of this Almanac our monograph on 
France. The history of Socialism in that country is a vast subject, which 
demands careful consideration and extended treatment. In the meantime our 
readers will bear in mind, gratefully and hopefully, that on the generous soil 
of France Socialism was bom and fought its earliest and hardest battles. 
Repeatedly slaughtered and buried in the Potter's Field as it seemed for ever, 
it rose from its ashes stronger and stronger with every generation. Now 
the giant has reached the age of manhood and his powerful form is beheld 
with trembling by the ruling classes, struck with a sense of impotency. From 
1893 to 1897, with 62 Deputies in the Chamber, the French Socialists broke 
down three "bourgeois" Cabinets and drove into retirement a plutocratic 
President of the Republic. This year they nearly doubled their vote of 
1893, and one million strong are steadily marching to the conquest of the 
public powers. No one can predict the course of events; but should it once 
more happen that Paris gave the signal of universal emancipation by nail- 
ing the Socialist banner to the flag pole of her Hotel de Ville, we dare say 
that no force in the world could pull it down, and that within forty-eight 
hours that banner would wave over every royal or imperial palace in Western 
Europe. 




SOCIALISM IN POLAND. 



The following contribution to the history of Socialism in Poland is from 
the pen of Comrade B. A. Jedrzejowski, of London, General Secretary of the 
Fot-eign League of Polish Socialists. 

In 1795 Poland was finally dismembered by the three neighboring empires, 
which had already before divided among themselves a large slice of her terri- 
tory. Nevertheless she has remained to this day united by a common language 
and literature, common historical traditions, and a common struggle for na- 
tional independence and unity. The part of Poland annexed by Russia is the 
most important, not only because of its greater size and higher industrial de- 
velopment, but also because it is the center of Polish intellectual life and polit- 
ical motion. It is therefore natural that modem Socialism in Poland should 
originate in this part of the country in spite of Russian persecution. The So- 
cialist refugees were also the first apostles of Socialism in Austrian and Prus- 
sian Poland. 

The Socialist movement was started in Warsaw in 1877 on the basis of the 
scientific Marxist Socialism by a few circles of young students of Warsaw Uni- 
versity. They soon found numerous ardent Comrades among the manual 
workers, and since then the movement has been a purely proletarian one. Up 
to the end of 1881 there was no definite party organization; the members were 
only loosely grouped together, and were content with reading such Socialist 
literature as they were able to secretly obtain, teaching each other, helping 
strikes, and carrying on the propaganda as well as they could individually 
undertake to do at no small risk to themselves. In 1879, however, there was 
started in Geneva the Polish Socialist paper, "Equality," which was of course 
smuggled into Poland. Early in 1882 the small isolated circles were organized 
in one body, known as "The Proletariat," which immediately proclaimed the 
necessity of a political struggle against Russian despotism. Since then the 
war against this most dangerous enemy of the working masses has been car- 
ried on without interruption and by every possible means. 

The "Proletariat" was, of course, a secret society, as all Socialist organiza- 
tions under the yoke of R,ussian Czardom must be; but it soon had branches in 
all the industrial centers of Russian Poland. During eleven years of its exist- 
ence it gave many examples of brilliant heroism and personal sacrifice. In 
January, 1886, twenty-nine of its members were tried by a court-martial; four of 
them — Bardowski, a justice of the peace; Kunicki, a civil engineer; OssoWski, 
a shoemaker, and Pietrusinski, a weaver — ^were hanged, and the remaining 
twenty-five were exiled for life to Siberia, sentenced to penal servitude in the 
mines. At the same time more than two hundred other members of the party 
were sent to Siberia by "administrative order," that is, without trial. Since 
then the persecution of Socialists has been relentless. In one year alone — ^1894 
— about 1,000 Comrades were arrested! Nevertheless, the "Proletariat" spread 
Socialism among the people, organized and conducted many successful strikes, 
and distributed large numbers of pamphlets, most of which were directly issued 
from the clandestine press at home. In 1883 and 1884 there was also secretly 
published in Warsaw a periodical entitled "Proletariat," "^oft^w^^t , NX^a ^"^tfci 



— 94 — 

r 

succeeded in defeating several attempts of the Russian government to further 
degrade the people; such, for instance, as the order of the Warsaw police in 
1883, that all the women employed in factories he periodically subject to a med- 
ical examination as prostitutes! One of the chief merits of the ''Proletariat" 
was the introduction of May Day into Russian Poland in 1890, conformably to 
the resolutions of the Paris International Congress. The first of May could not 
be celebrated there by holding open air meetings as in the rest of EiUrope; but 
the workers could at any rate refuse to work, and the large number of them 
who took a vacation on that day showed that the Paris Congress had provided 
the Polish Socialists with an excellent means of propagating among their op- 
pressed countrymen ideas of international brotherhood and social justice. 

The rapid growth of Sociali&m in Poland, as compared with its slow prog- 
ress in Russia, is additional evidence of the inferior development of the latter 
country. In the light of this contrast it becomes apparent to the Polish work- 
ingmen that they cannot afford to wait for their deliverance until the Russian 
peasantry ripens intellectually, politically and industrially. Moreover, in all 
their conflicts with the capitalist class, the Polish workers have found the Rus- 
sian bayonets against them. The general strike of 1892 in Lodz, after the first 
of May celebration, is an example. Sixty thousand men struck work, and the 
employers were ready to grant all their demands; but the Russian authority in- 
tervened and forbade the employers to make any concessions. At the same 
time the strikers, who had not broken the peace, were attacked by the military; 
46 were killed outright, 200 were wounded, many of them mortally, and about 
1,000 were arrested. In view of this state of affairs it may, therefore, be readily 
comprehended that the idea of an independent Polish Republic, so dear to the 
Polish middle class also, but for other reasons, should have found emphatic ex- 
pression in the political programme of the Socialist party, without in the least 
affecting the international character of the movement. 

Meanwhile, in 1890 and 1891, the exclusiveness of the "Proletariat" caused 
the formation of three separate Socialist bodies. Such a division of forces, at a 
time when united action was essential, could not, however, last very long. In 
December, 1892, representatives of all the Socialist bodies of Russian Poland 
held in Paris a secret conference. The result was the formation of one "Polish 
Socialist party," demanding the Independent Polish Republic, as a necessary 
step towards the total abolition of the present competitive system and the 
establishment of an International Socialist Brotherhood. It demanded: (1) Uni- 
versal adult suffrage for both sexes; direct legislation by the people; equality of 
nationalities upon the federative principle; local autonomy; complete liberty of 
association, speech, press and religion; free administration of justice; free edu- 
cation and public maintenance of school children; abolition of standing armies 
and the arming of the whole nation; removal of taxes ^rom necessaries. (2) A 
maximum workday of eight hours; legal equalization of wages for both sexes; 
prohibition of child labor under the age of fourteen, and limitation of working- 
day for young persons to six hours; no night work as a principle; election of 
factory inspectors by the workers; State insurance against accidents, illness* 
want of employment, old age, etc. (3) Gradual nationalization of all the means 
of production and communication. 

At the same time there was founded the "Foreign League of Polish So- 
cialists" — which Has now branches in most of the large town of Western and 
Northern Europe — for the purpose of uniting into one active body all the Polish 
Socialista residing abroad, particularly the refugees. Its chief aim is to help 



— 95 — 

the movement in the native country by carrying on the literary and publishingr 
work, smuggling Socialist literature into Poland, taking proper measures in 
cases of wholesale arrests, etc. The prii^e importance of such outside aid to a 
country under the Russian yoke is self-evident. The Central Committee of the 
F. L. P. S. mot originally in Paris; but after the first month of its existence it 
was expelled by the French government at the request of the Russian embassy, 
and has since taken quarters in London (7 Beaumont Square, Mile End, E.). 
This committee also represents the secret party organization of Russian Poland 
and acts as the uniting link between Prussian and Austrian Poland. 

As it would take too much space to dilate upon the many brilliant achieve- 
ments of the Polish Socialist party and the enormous growth of its propaganda 
and organization, mention will only be made here of some salient features of 
the work which it has done. Nearly 70,000 pamphlets were smuggled into Po- 
land and sold or distributed during the last two and a half years; large quan- 
tities of literature were also printed by the secret press of Warsaw; May Day 
has been regularly and splendidly celebrated every year; a clandestine pub- 
lication, entitled, "The Worker," has been regularly issued in spite of all police 
searches. In the economic field numerous victories have been won. The 
strike in Bialystok, Aug., 1895, against the new factory laws detrimental to 
labor, was participated in by all the workers of the town, to the number of 26,- 
000. The third and most recent secret annual congress of the party, held in 
July, 1895, decided to carry on an energetic progaganda among the rural 
workers. 

As the programme of the new party satisfies the most burning wants of 
all the oppressed, especially in its declaration of war against Czardom and for 
the Polish Republic, it has already secured to this party the leading place in 
the political life of the nation. In spite of the efforts of the Radical middle- 
class party, which is also striving for national independence, there seems now 
no doubt that the coming Polish uprising will be led by the Socialists, and 
that the workers will win the Republic by their own efforts and for their own 
welfare. 

Austrian Poland (the so-called Gralicia) was the birthplace of the first 
Polish Socialist paper, "The Worker," published in Lemberg in 1878; but So- 
cialism did not become there a political force of importance until the 1st of May, 
1890. In consequence of different industrial conditions this part of Poland is 
not subject to the infiuence of such highly developed capitalism as now exists 
in Russian Poland, and the proletarian masses, therefore, are not so large and 
so dense in the former as in the latter. But as it is also the least oppressed by 
foreign domination, the national intellectual life has to struggle against fewer 
obstacles, and since 1890 Socialism has grown very rapidly. The Comrades of 
Oalicia have consequently now one of the best organized parties in the whole 
Austrian Empire, always at the front in the agitation for universal suffrage, in 
the celebration of the first of May and in the entire economic movement and 
propaganda of Socialism. The recent victories of the Radical Peasants' party 
at the elections to the Galician Diet (Sept., 1895) will also turn to the advan- 
tage of our Comrades. 

In Prussian Poland the foreign domination is a fundamental obstacle to 
economic development, because all industry is killed by Prussian laws. In the 
second place the movement is retarded by the low state of national intellectual 
life, owing to the Prussian policy of destroying all Polish culture by means of 
German schools, prosecutions of Polish teachers, prohWAWoi^. ^1 vUWj^j^^t ^^5».- 



— 96 — 



cational institutions within the conquered territory, etc. This part of Poland 
is consequently the poorest and most retrograde. Moreover, the Bismarkian 
persecution of Polish Roman Catholic priests has had the effect of keeping the 
people more attached to their clergy than they might otherwise he, and the 
influence of the latter is decidedly hostile to Socialism. It is no wonder, there- 
fore, that in spite of the generous help from the German Social Democrats, the 
movement in this part of Poland is the weakest Tet, although slowly. It is- 
progressing. In 1893 the Polish Comrades, who belonged till then to the German 
Social Democratic party, founded their own "Polish Socialist party," and the 
number of votes cast- for their candidates at the German parliamentary elec- 
tions increased from 3,081 in 1890 to 6,295 in 1893. The principles of the So- 
cialist programme in all parts of Poland are, of course, the same, and the trade 
unions, which are progressing favorably, especially in Austrian Poland, are or- 
ganized entirely by the Socialist party. 

Ten party periodicals are now published, namely, "The Dawn," the oldest, 
established in 1881, printed especially for Russian Poland, and now published 
monthly by A. Debski, 7 Beaumont Square, Mile End, London, E., price 4s. per 
year; "New Worker," 1890, weekly, Lemberg; "Workers* Paper," 1891, weekly, 
Berlin, for Prussian Poland; "B\>rward," 1892, weekly, Cracow; "Stork," 1892, 
satirical, fortnightly, Lemberg; "Worker," 1894, monthly, Warsaw; "Hearth," 
1895, fortnightly. Lemberg; "Light," 1895, monthly, Lemberg; and "BuUetin 
Officiel du Parti Socialiste Polonais," june, 1895, published monthly in London 
at the above address, in French, chiefly to supply the foreign Socialist press 
with information concerning the Polish movement. The party owns two presses 
—a secret one in Warsaw, the other in London— from which are issued a large 
number of books and pamphlets. 



In 



GROWTH OF SOCIALISM IN EUROPE, 
so far as Shown by the Election Returns of Various Countries. 



1885 .... 


France: 


1889 


1893 


1898 


1894 .... 


Belgium: 


1898 . 


1872 .... 


Denmabk: 


1884 


1887 


1890 


1892 


1895 


1895 .... 


Austria: 


1897 


1893 


Spain: 


1895 


1897 



30,000 

91,000 

590,000 

1,000,000 



334,500 
534,324 



315 

6,805 

8,408 

17,232 

20,098 

25,019 



90,000 
750,000 



7,000 
14,800 
28,000 



Germany: 

1867 30,00a 

1871 101,927 

1874 351,670 

1877 486,843 

1878 437.158 

1881 311,961 

1884 599,990 

1887 763,128 

1890 1,427,298 

1893 1,786,738 

1898 2,125,000 

Italy: 

1893 20,000 

1895 76,400 

1897 134,496 

Servia: 

1895 50,000 

Great Britain:- 

1895 55,000 

Switzerland: 

1890 13,500 

1893 29,822 

1896 36,468 



THE CLASSES. 



This is, we believe, the first time that an attempt is made to so group 
the persons reported in the census as engaged in occupations, that an approx- 
imate idea may be formed of the proportions in which the population of the 
United States has been divided into four great distinct classes by the capitalist 
system, fiamely, the Plutocratic Class, the Middle Class, the Professional 
Class, and the Wage-working Class.* 

The result is instructive, but no hasty conclusion should be drawn from 
it, and the introductory remarks with which its presentation is here made 
should be duly considered before venturing any comment upon it. Besides 
the facts embodied in the following tables there are others, indeed, of par- 
amount importance, essential to a correct understanding of class conditions 
at the last census, and especially of their antecedent development, which it 
was also our purpose to show in extending our classification to the previous 
censuses of 1880 and 1870. 

Let us first observe that this classification, although sufficiently clear 
and complete to speak for itself, may in certain respects be made still clearer 
by some preliminary explanations, and also more unquestionably acceptable 
as a whole by some necessary corrections in a few of its details; which correc- 
tions, as we shall see, do not affect the general result. 

1. As to the Plutocratic Class. — Under this head are grouped the persons 
reported as bankers, brokers, manufacturers, and officials of banking, manu- 
facturing, trade, transportation, insurance, trust and other companies. In 
other words, it includes those persons who, regardless of their respective indi- 
vidual wealth, are, by their functions, the natural representatives of capitalism 
in the highest form which it has yet attained and the direct instruments of 
its further evolution. There are no doubt some persons, among those 



♦ In Bulletin No. 11 of the Department of Labor (July, 1897), appeared a grouping by 
kindred occupations, which we have utilized for our purpose. Our general classification, 
however, fundamentally differs from that of the Department, whose object was obviously 
not the same as ours, although its work facilitated our task by saving us some expenditure 
of time In compilation. The extent of the difference will readily appear from the following 
synopsis of the Department's table, which is divided into four general groups respectively 
marked A, B, C, D, without further denomination. Group A embraces bankers, brokers, 
manufacturers, farmers, planters, merchants, dealers and professional persons. Group B 
oomprises agents and clerks. Group C is reserved to manufacturing and mechanical 
trades. Group D includes unskilled labor and servants; also, miners, sailors, etc., besides 
a number of "miscellaneous manufacturing" pursuits which would find a more appropriate 
place in Group C. 



— 98 — 

enumerated in the Mercantile Middle Class as merchants, builders, contractors 
and publishers, who by their wealth and the extent of their operations prop- 
erly belong to the plutocratic class; but while their exact number cannot be 
ascertained from any of the data afforded by the census, we may safely say 
on the one hand that it cannot be sufficiently great to make a sensible impres- 
sion upon the relativity of the class totals, and on the other hand that it is 
probably offset by the number of small concerns (especially commercial 
brokers) properly belonging to the middle class but included in the plutocratic 
for the lack of more precise information concerning them. We are, in fact, 
fully satisfied that the total given for 1890, in particular, is rather above 
than below the actual number of persons qualified by wealth or occupation 
to be counted in this class. 

2. As to the Mercantile Middle Class, — For obvious reasons we have sub- 
<livided the great Middle Class into two sections, namely, the "Mercantile" 
and the "Agricultural." Under the head, 'Mercantile," are grouped all the 
persons, other than those of the plutocratic class, who, according to the census 
tables of occupations, were reported as engaged in some business as merchants, 
dealers, agents, builders, contractors, publishers, hotel, restaurant, saloon and 
boarding-house keepers, etc. Here, however, two important corrections would 
l)e desirable, if possible, and may at any rate be pointed out, although by 
operating Inversely they would no doubt balance each other and leave our 
totals substantially unchanged. In the first place it will be seen that, owing 
to the slovenly work of the census, the bartenders, who constitute a large 
l)ody of wage-workers, are not enumerated separately from their employers. 
Again, a considerable proportion — a large majority, we should say — of the 
persons reported as agents and collectors are essentially proletarians, as are 
also, for that matter, many of the dealers, boarding house, restaurant and 
saloonkeepers. Insomuch as their net possessions are practically nil and the 
"profits" of the latter, like the "commissions" of the former, equal only in 
most cases a very low wage. for the work done. The number of such agents, 
and also of bartenders, should, therefore, be deducted from our middle class 
totals and added to the working class. On the other hand it will be observed 
that persons engaged, not as wage-workers but on their own speculative 
account either singly or as employers of labor, in Industries termed "manu- 
facturing and mechanical," are not specifically enumerated in our middle class 
list. But a large number of these — such as cigarmakers, custom tailors, cus- 
tom shoemakers and cobblers, milliners, bakers, confectioners, locksmiths, 
etc., who generally keep stores — are enumerated as "dealers." Others, however 
— such as blacksmiths, wheelwrights, millers and small manufacturers gen- 
erally who conduct their business in shops but do not keep stores — are omitted 
from the middle class list and figure in the working class under the head of 
their respective occupations. The number of these should therefore be de- 
ducted from our working class totals and added to the middle class. Now, a 
careful consideration of all the available data has led us to the conclusion that 
the number of these small manufacturers and artisans on one side and the 
number of agents and bartenders above mentioned, on the other side, were 
about equal (our estimate of each for 1890 being about 150,000) ; so that their 
respective transfer to their proper class would, as already stated, leave our 
class totals substantially unchanged. 

Of the important fact that the numerical strength of the plutocratic class 



— 99 — 

and the mercantile middle class, taken together, is not underestimated in our 
totals (and that, consequently, the numerical strength of the working class is 
not overestimated), we have ample confirmation in the statistics of our great 
commercial agencies. In 1890, for instance, according to our figures, these two 
classes agrregated 1,370,000. In the same year there were on the books of 
R. G. Dun & Co. 1,110,000 business concerns registered for the purpose of credit 
rating, and this figure, (smaller than ours by 260,000, or about 20 per cent.) 
was believed to comprise nearly every such concern, engaged In trade, manu- 
facturing, mining, transportation, banking, brokering, speculating, etc., from 
the weakest individual to the most powerful corporation. 

3. As to the Agricultural Propertied Glass. — This is, by far, the largest of 
the two great sections into which we have divided the so-called "Middle 
Class." It is subdivided into four groups according to the size of farms owned 
or tenanted. We are, of course, aware of the fact that among the farms of 
500 acres and more there are many of less value than farms of much less area 
but better equipped or located in more populous districts. In default of suf- 
ficient information concerning value, the classification by area was the only 
one that we could adopt. Everything considered it is also, perhaps, the best 
that could be adopted, even if the missing information were available; for, 
as settlement progresses and as capitalistic concentration develops in agri- 
culture, there is a tendency to equalization of farming land values. Special 
attention is called to the foot note concerning tenantry, appended to our 
enumeration of this class; also to the statistical and other important informa- 
tion contained in our chapter on Agriculture. 

4. As to the Professional Class, — Our enumeration of this body is suffi- 
ciently intelligible and requires here no additional explanation. Comments 
upon its growth will be found further on at their proper place. 

5. As to the Working Class, or Proletariat. — Noting again, for the sake of 
accuracy, the few and upon the whole unimportant corrections suggested in 
our previous remarks on the Mercantile Middle Class, it will be found that our 
enumeration and grouping of the proletariat give a comprehensive view of 
the magnitude of its numbers and the diversification of its pursuits. This 
great army of wealth producers, numbering 15,000,000 in 1890, is divided into 
7 groups of workers in broadly correlated employments. First in numerical 
importance stands Group 2 (Manufacturing and Mechanical), with over 
5,000,000 toilers subdivided into 10 principal branches respectively embracing 
kindred occupations. Next comes Group 4, with 3,200,000 agricultural laborers; 
then Group 5, comprising miners, quarrymen and unskilled laborers to the 
number of 2>300,000; Group 6, with nearly 2,000,000 persons engaged in personal 
and domestic service; Group 1, representing a clerical force of 1,165,000, and 
Group 3— the group of high mortality, numbering 1,120,000 men, young and 
strong for the most part, constantly exposed to accident in services of land and 
sea transportation. 

Bearing in mind the foregoing remarks, we may now proceed to a con- 
sideration of the results obtained. 

A summing up of the figures in our detailed enumeration gives us as fol- 
lows the respective numbers of the four above-named classes at each of the 
last three censuses: 



— 100 — 



THE CLASSES— ACCOBDING TO OCCUPATIONS. 



I — ^Plutocratic Class: 

II— Middle Class: 

Mercantile . .' 

Agricultural 

Total Middle class . 

Ill — ^Professional Class 

IV— Working Class 

Grand total. All Classes 



1870 


1880. 

87,143 


1890. 


66,635 


177,478 


492,499 
3,015,088 


687,052 
4,286,099 


1,192,931 
5,355,931 


3,507,587 


4.973,151 


6,548,862 


371,098 


603,202 


944,333 


8,561,003 


11,728,603 


15,064,988 


12,505,923 


17,392,099 


22,735,661 



According to the foregoing table, the relative numerical strength of the 
classes, expressed in percentage, would therefore appear to have been as 
follows in the three last census years: 



rriA^RAAA 


1870 
Per cent. 


1880 


1890 


• 


Per cent. 


Per cent. 


I. Plutocratic Class 


0.53 

3.94 
24.11 

2.97 
68.45 


0.50 

3.95 
24.64 

3.47 
67.44 


0.78 


II. Middle Class:— 

Mercantile 


5.24 


Agricultural 


23.56 


HI. Professional Class 


4.15 


IV. wage- working Class 


66.26 






Total 


100.00 


100.00 


100.00 







Right here, however, it should be observed that in the above figures the 
"persons in occupation" are alone included and no account is taken of their 
immediate family dependents who are not reported as engaged in any pursuit — 
such as wives at home, children at home or at school, aged parents, etc. The 
absolute — ^and we may say inexcusable — deficiency of the United States census 
in this most important line of statistical information is greatly to be deplored, 
for it necessarily impeaches the accuracy of any estimate that may be made 
of the number of persons who, as active workers or idle dependents, actually 
belong to each class. Nevertheless such an estimate is possible, sufficiently 
approximate for our present purpose, although in default of direct and positive 
data it must be based on what we may term circumstantial evidence. 

We know, for instance, that there is a greater number of idle persons in 
plutocratic families than in families of the middle and professional classes, 
and also in the two latter classes of families than in families of the working 
class. Moreover, we know — and this is a fact of such vast import that it would 
deserve special and extended treatment— that in the wage-working class there 
is a smaller proportion of married persons than in the other classes, owing 
to various causes, inherent in the capitalist system, destructive of the famil^^ 
and chief among which are the following: 1. The number of domestic ser- 



— 101 — 

vants and unskilled laborers; 2. the unsteadiness of employment and the con- 
sequent migrations of wage-workers, skilled and unskilled; 3. "the geo- 
graphical separation of the sexes by the nature of the employments," large 
numbers of single men flocking to mining districts, iron centers, bonanza farms, 
new country, etc., while numbers of single women are congregated in "she- 
towns," where textile and other manufactures are largely carried on with 
female labor. 

If, after giving all these circumstances and others the necessary considera- 
tion, we can reasonably assume that on an average about 1 in 5 of the plu- 
tocratic class, 1 in 4 of the mercantile middle class, 1 in 3^ of the agricultural 
middle class, and 1 in 4 of the professional class, are actually occupied, we ob- 
tain the following comparative results: 

The Classes^ According to Population. 



Classes. 


Number of persons 
in each class. 


Per cent, of 
total population. 




1870 


1880 


1890 


1870 188(» 


1890 


I. Plutocratic Class 

II. Middle Class:— 

Mercantile 


333,175 

1,969,996 
10,552,808 

1,484,362 
24,218,030 


435,715 

2,748,208 
15,001,346 

2,412,808 
29,557,706 


887,390 

4,771,724 
18,745,758 

3,777,332 
34,440,046 


0.86 

5.11 
27.37 

3.85 
62.81 


0.88 

5.48 
29.91 

4.82 
58.91 


1.41 
7 63 


Agricultural 


29.93 


III. Professional Class ..*... 

IV. Working Class 


6.03 
55 00 







Total 138,558,371 50,155,783 62,622,2501100.001100.00 100.00 



From the above tables and such additional data as we shall successively 
present in the course of our comments, the following conclusions are drawn: 

I. — In each of the three census years here considered, the Plutocratic 
Class, including all its family dependents — men, women and children — consti- 
tuted an insignificant fraction of the total population. Whether such a fraction 
be a little less or a little more than one per cent, is, of course, immaterial. 
The apparent growth of that class in numbers from 1880 to 1890, will, how- 
ever, be noted, and in so far as it is somewhat delusive requires here immediate 
correction. Its increase was not, indeed, by any means so great as the above 
figures indicate, for these are affected by the extensive transformation of pri-s 
vate firms into corporations, which took place during that period, and the 
consequent transfer of many merchants, manufacturers, etc., from the middle 
class, in which they were counted in 1880, to the plutocratic class, in which 
they figured in 1890 as officers of companies. Of its stupendous growth in 
wealth there can, of course, be no question. With the exception of a com- 
paratively few shares and bonds held by people of middle and professional 
classes, it owns the railroads, telegraphs, shipping, banks, mines and all the 
great industries which are generally conducted by corporations; it owns all 
the warehouses and the vast stocks of merchandise stored therein, waiting for 
the hand to mouth demands of the retail trade; all the most valuable business 
real estate in cities, besides palatial residences, immense tracts of land held 
on speculation and farms cultivated by tenants; also, art treasures, sumptuous 
furniture, costly apparel, etc. Lastly, It is the chief creditor of municipalities 



— 102 — 

and States and of many private persons — farmers, traders, real estd,te owners, 
etc. — belonging to the middle classes. All things considered, we believe our- 
selves justified in saying that the possessions of the 177,000 occupied persons 
Included in our ''plutocratic class," and a number of whom are multimillion- 
aires, cannot have fallen short of 42,000 million dollars.* (To this may be 
added 2,000 millions held by foreign "investors.") 

II. — If farm tenants be included, the proportion of Agricultural Middle 
Class in the total population is found to be almost exactly the same in 1890 
as in 1880. The statistics of farm tenure, however, show that the proportion 
of tenants has largely increased and consequently that the proportion of owners 
cultivating their own farms has correspondingly decreased. These and various 
other data, published and commented on elsewhere in our chapter on Agri- 
culture, show not only the^ extent to which a portion of this once sovereign 
class has deteriorated, but also the profound economic revolution through 
which the whole class is now passing. Deducting the mortgage and other in- 
debtedness of farmers, and also an adequate portion of the value of the 1,295,000 
farms which, cultivated by tenants, are chiefly owned by persons who do not 
belong to the agricultural class, a fair estimate of the net wealth of this class 
would hardly reach and at any rate could not exceed the sum of 10,000 million 
dollars. 

III. — In proportion to its numbers the Mercantile Middle Class increased 
enormously during the two last census decades, and especially from 1880 to 
1890, as may further be seen from the following percentages of its growth as 
compared with the growth of population: 



Increase of total population 

Increase of mercantile middle class. 



From 1870 
to 1860. 

30.0 
39.6 



From 1880 
to 1890. 

24.8 
73.6 



From 1870 
to 1890. 

62.4 
142.4 



These figures, however, are highly deceptive; and as there are not wanting, 
among capitalist politicians, not to speak of Anarchists and muddleheaded 
persons generally, people who knavishly or stupidly argue from the numerical 
growth of this middle class against the Socialists' emphatic prediction of its 



* This is substantially the same result as that which Thomas O. Shearman arrived at 
by an entirely diCFerent method, our estimate being based on census returns of occupations 
and wealth, while his was derived from information supplied by commercial agencies. 
Shearman's estimate (1889) was as follows: 



Families. 

70 

90 

180 

135 

360 

1,755 

6,000 

7,000 

11,000 

14,000 

16,500 

60.000 

76,000 



Average wealth in dollars. 

87,500,000 

11,500,000 

8,000,000 

6,800,000 

...' 4,600,000 

2,300,000 

1,250,000 

650,000 

375,000 

230,000 

165,000 

100,000 

60,000 



Total wealth In mUlion dollars 

2,626 

1,025 

1,440 

968 

1,656 

4,036 

7,500 

4,550 

4,125 

3,220 

2,722 

5,000 

4.500 



182,090 



238,000 



43,367 



— 103 — 

complete annihilation and disappearance, the deception cannot be too clearly 
exposed. Not alone the quantity of the increase but its quality must be con- 
sidered, as well as the conditions under which it is taking place. If it plainly 
appears that with a comparatively few exceptions the people who thus 
increasingly swell the ranks of the mercantile middle class are not attracted 
into it by a corresponding enlargement of its field of opportunities; that on 
the contrary this field is constantly narrowing; that the new comers are driven 
into it by the closing up of other avenues of employment; that as they crowd 
in it they lessen by division and finally destroy by competition, not for them- 
selves alone but for the previous occupants, all the chances of breath and 
life that might still otherwise be left in it; that their commercial death is 
therefore inevitable; that the rate of commercial mortality in that class has 
actually reached a point where every year, by bankruptcy or "failure to suc- 
ceed,'' a number are swept out of existence equal to the number who engaged 
in business the previous year; and, lastly, that the supply of constantly 
smaller fry for bankruptcy purposes is not inexhaustible; then, we say, this 
very phenomenon of stupendous increase in the numbers of the mercantile 
middle class is an absolutely unmistakable symptom of its mortal disease and 
approaching collapse. For conclusive evidence as to all these facts and con- 
ditions we refer the reader to our chapter on the "Growth of Bankruptcy." 
We shall here simply call attention to the further fact that, despite its nu- 
merical increase, the mercantile middle class constituted only 7.63 per cent, 
of the total population in 1890. As to its wealth, 6,000 million dollars is a fair 
estimate. It partly consists in stocks of merchandise, not exceeding in the 
l)est supplied stores a few weeks and in others a few days requirements; another 
part consists in such machinery and tools as are found in small shops; while the 
larger portion is in savings bank deporits and real estate, many of the country 
■dealers owning their own stores and homes, the value of which is usually 
greater than that of the stocks which they carry and for which they are to a 
large extent indebted to wholesale merchants. 

IV. — In proportion to its numbers the Professional Class increased also 
•enormously. It increased 56 per cent, from 1870 to 1880, and nearly 63 per 
•cent, from 1880 to 1890. For the whole period of twenty years, 1870—1890, 
while the total population, as already stated, increased about 60 per cent., 
this class increased 154 per cent. There is nothing surprising in that. Con- 
sidering the unparalleled development of industry and wealth in the United 
States during that period it is quite natural that the demand for the services 
■of engineers, chemists, architects, draftsmen, painters, sculptors, actors, mu- 
sicians, journalists, etc., should have far exceeded the growth of population. 
Again, while in the older cities the educational facilities of a primary order 
•did not by any means progress at so great a rate and even in some cases 
showed signs of retrogression, the constant opening of new country, the birth 
of new towns along new railways, and the special necessity, felt in the South- 
ern States, of giving some rudimentary education to the children of the 
emancipated negroes, favored a rapid Increase in the number of common 
school teachers. In every new settlement the school and the church were, in 
fact, a capitalistic speculation, an "inducement" broadly advertised by land- 
sharks. It is almost superfiuous to state that in most professions the supply 
very quickly exceeded the demand. Of lawyers and ministers the number 
more than doubled in twenty years, while the journalists, muslciar^s -^x^^ 
architects multiplied fourfold, the artists ftvetoV^, \-\i^ \Xvft».\x\Ra\ TCiSCM^'sys^'e' ^»^^ 



— 104 — 

showmen fifteenfold, etc. The increase was especially great in the last de- 
cade, with one remarkable exception. It is a fact deserving of notice that 
the only corps of professionals that did not multiply faster than population 
from 1880 to 1890 was that of the physicians and surgeons. Another notable 
fact is that although the number of people returned as 'literary and scientific 
persons" shows a marked advance, the figure which it reached in 1890 was 
only 6,714. Nine-tenths of these may be set down as novel-writers and con- 
tributors of generally inferior literature, exploiters and perverters of the pop- 
ular imagination, having no other aim than that of making money. Of 
truly "scientific" persons contributing in some degree to the progress of human 
knowledge, this country of seventy million people possesses less than a 
thousand. Is not this in Itself the most terrible arraignment that can be made 
of the capitalist system? Is it not at the same time the most powerful argument 
that can be produced in favor of Socialism? If science does advance despite 
this stupendous waste of brain power, what progress may we not expect when 
all the intellectual forces of the human race now dormant are set in motion? 

The share of wealth held by the professional class is difficult to estimate. 
After mature consideration we arrived at the conclusion that the figure of 
$2,500,000,000 approximates the actual amount. It would be far less if there 
were not in that class a comparatively few very rich persons, chiefly lawyers 
and ministers, who properly belong body and soul to the plutocracy. A number 
of others own their homes or enjoy the "product" of their personal or inherited 
accumulations; but the proportion of such well-to-do persons is probably no 
greater than in the middle class. The remainder, the great bulk of the 
professional body, the only portion of it which is now increasing in number, 
can no more boast of economic independence than the manual worker, although 
living, on an average, upon a higher plane of comfort. Books, instruments, 
costumes, etc., according to professions, are the necessary and only possessions 
of an overwhelming majority of the people of this class. It is from this poorer 
stratum — from this intellectual proletariat, so-called — that Socialism, in the 
countries where it is now strongest, has recruited some of its most active, 
gifted and courageous exponents. 

V. — The actual number of workers — that is, of persons in occupations — 
belonging to what is specially termed here "Working Class," not only increased 
largely, but increased also at a faster rate than the total population of the 
country, as may be seen from the following percentages: 



Increase of total population 

Increase of working class workers. 



From 1870 


From 1880 


From 1870 


to 1880. 


to 1890. 


to 1890. 


30.0 


24.8 


62.4 


37.1 


28.4 


76.0 



On the other hand, however, the following figures show that the working 
class population — that is, including not only the workers but their family de- 
pendents — increased at a much less rate than the total population of the 
country: 

From 1870 
to 1890. 

62.4 

42.2 



From 1870 


From 1880 


to 1880. 


to 1890. 


30.0 


24.8 


22.0 


16.5 



Increase of total population 

Increase of working class population . . . 

This is, we believe, the first time that these two facts are thus brought 
together; and, when they are thus viewed in their relation to each other, 
their significance is so great, so deep; they illustrate so vividly the workings 



— 105 — 

of the capitalist system, that we cannot too earnestly call attention to their 
import. ' 

During the period of twenty years covered by our figures machinery vastly 
multiplied the productive power of the manual worker. With an addition of 
only 76 per cent, to the laboring force the product in 1890 was several times as 
large as in 1870. Had wages on one side and prices on the other been so 
adjusted as to maintain in 1890 the proportions in which that product was 
divide(\ between the classes twenty years before, the working class would 
have found its lot enormously improved, although the capitalist would have 
"profited" in the same ratio. But it is not in the nature of capitalism that ma- 
chinery should act otherwise than as a competitor of the manual worker — 
that is, otherwise than as a factor of working class degradation. 

It falls, indeed, under the sense that if the wages and profit ratio of 1870 
had been maintained and the conditions of the working class had consequently 
been improved in proportion to the progress of machinery, the number of 
wage-workers would not have increased 76 per cent. — or faster by nearly 14 
per cent., than the general population of the country — while the wage- working 
population itself was increasing at the much less rate of 42 per cent. Su6h 
a difference in the two rates of growth necessarily involved a heavy draft 
upon the families of the working class; that is, a conversion of many weaker 
members of those families into wage-workers, as is shown by the fact that the 
number of women reported in occupation increased from 1,645,000 in 1870 to 
3,712,000 in 1890, or over 125 per cent. Manifestly, if any improvement had 
taken place, the stronger members would have been better able to take care 
of their families, female labor would have decreased, children and youths 
would have become workers at a later age, and our figures would express 
arithmetically a phenomenon the very opposite of the startling one which they 
now record. They would show a less rate of increase in the number of work- 
ing class workers than in the numbers of the working class population — al- 
though they might and would probably show also a decreased percentage of 
the latter, owing to the increased ability of wage-working fathers to supply 
their children with the educational and pecuniary means of embracing 
scientific and artistic professions under favorable conditions. In other words, 
they would especially and inevitably show that in the average family of the 
working class there were fewer persons at work in 1890 than in 1870, the 
earnings of the stronger being sufllcient to sustain the whole family; whereas, 
they do show the contrary, as follows: 

1. Of the working class population, including men, women and children, 
35 per cent, in 1870, and 44 per cent, in 1890, were reported as engaged in 
occupations; that is, had to work — in order to sustain themselves and their 
family dependents. 

2. This was an addition of about one worker to the number previously 
required in each family for its support; and it necessarily came from the 
weaker members (women, youths and children), since the stronger were pre- 
viously occupied at the already large rate ^f 1 worker in 3 of population. 

It will no doubt be observed that, in accordance with the important 
facts stated in our chapter on "Female Labor," due allowance should be made 
for such industries as women's clothing and some others, which, by passing 
from the home to the factory, converted a number of persons, chiefly women, 
previously working within and for the family circle, into wage earners, work- 
ing for capitalists. But this growth of the wage system, together with the 



fundamental cause of it, is precisely what we have here under consideration. 
The very fact of the absorption of those industries by capitalism was rendered 
possible by the degradation of labor consequent upon the capitalistic use of 
machinery, not as an aid but as a competitor of the human worker. 

Nor is this all. To the gradual debasement of the working class can 
plainly be traced the coincident debasement of the mercantile middle class, 
simultaneously with its abnormal growth in numbers. As is fully explained 
elsewhere, that portion of the working class which, by saving or inheritance, 
had reached a somewhat higher economic plane than the rest, is forced out of 
it by declining wages or enforced idleness. It is driven into the mercantile 
middle class, where it soon finds a grave instead of a refuge. A number of 
its children eventually swell the poorer ranks of the professional class, the 
ranks of the more or less "intelleotuar* proletariat. 

The term "wealth" is hardly applicable to the ordinary possessions of the 
working class — such as tools, furniture, bedding, kitchen utensils, wearing 
apparel and other articles of necessity or ornament — all acquired slowly and 
painfully, each of little amount in itself, yet footing up a dazzling figure when' 
multiplied by the vast numbers of that class. A special agent of the census, 
Mr. George K. Holmes, estimated at about $2,750,000,000 the total value of 
such possessions in 1890; to which should be added the homes owned and the 
savings made by a comparatively few families. 

Below is presented our detailed classification. 

I.— PLUTOCRATIC CLASS. 



Occupations. 



1870. 



1880. 



1890. 



Bankers and brokers : . . . 

Manufacturers and officials of manufacturing 
companies 

Officials of banks and of insurance, trade, trans- 
portation, trust, and other companies 



11,015 
45,021 
10,599 



19,373 



52,217 



15,553 



Agents (claim, commission, real estate, in- 
surance, etc.), and collectors 

Auctioneers 

Builders and contractors 

Boarding and lodging house keepers 

Hotel keepers 

Livery stable keepers 

Merchants and dealers 

Publishers of books, maps and newspapers. 

Restaurant and saloon keepers (and bar- 
tenders, not separately enumerated in 
census) 

Undertakers 

Total 



20,316 

2,266 

10,231 

12,785 

26,394 

8,504 

357,263 

1,577 



50,767 
1,996 



33,989 

2,331 

14,597 

19,058 

32,453 

14,213 

479,439 

2,781 



83.078 
5,113 



\ 



35,968 



101.610 



39,900 



Total . . 


66,635 


87,143 


177.478 


• 






II.— MERCANTILE MIDDLE CLASS. 




Occupations. 1870. 


1880. 


1890. 



174,582 

3,205 

45,988 

44,349 

44,076 

26,757 

691,325 

6,284 



146,474 
9,891 



492,099 687,052 1,192,931 



— 107 — 

III.— AQBICULTUBAL FBOPEBTIED CLASSES. 

Including only Owners and Tenants of Agricultural Land. 



Occupations. 


1870. 


1880. 1890. 


Group 1. — (Great landowners): — 
Owners of farms, plantations, ranches, 
etc., of 500 acres and over. 


19,593 

565,054 

2,396,673 

33,768 


104,550 

• 

♦1,695,983 

♦2,428,518 

57,048 


115.941 


Group 2. — (Middle class farmers and 
tenants) : — 




Owners and tenants of farms and plan- 
tations of 100 to 500 acres 


♦2,008,694 

♦3,156,922 

74,374 


Group 3. — (Small owners and tenants): 

Owners and tenants of farms of less 

than 100 ac'Tes 


Group 4. — (Miscellaneous specialties): — 
Gardeners, florists, nurserymen, vine- 
growers and apiarists 





Total 



3,015,088 4,286,099 I 5,355,931 



* The number of farms cultivated by tenants was 1,024,601 (or 25.55 per cent, of the total 
number of farms in 1880); whereas. In 1890, of the 4,767,179 families occupying 4,664,641 farms, 
(or 34.08 per cent, of the total nimiber of families) occupied as tenants 1,294,913 farms (or 
28.37 per cent, of the total number of farms. 



IV.— PBOFESSIONAL CLASS. 

(Art, Science, Literature, Education, Medicine, Law, Religion and War) — : 



Occupations. 



1870. 



Actors 

Architects 

Artists and teachers of art 

Authors and literary and scientiflc persons.. 

Chemists, assayers, and metallurgists 

Clergymen 

Dentists 

Designers, draftsmen and inventors 

Engineers (civil, mechanical, electrical and 

mining), and surveyors 

Journalists 

Lawyers 

Musicians and teachers of music 

Officers of the United States Army and Navy 

Officials (government) 

Physicians and surgeons 

Professors and teachers 

Theatrical managers, showmen, etc 

Veterinary surgeons 

Other professional service 

Total 



2.053 

2^017 

4,081 

979 

772 

43,874 

7,389 

1,286 

7,374 

5,286 

40,736 

16,010 

2,286 

44,743 

62,448 

126,822 

1,177 

1,166 

149 



1880. 



4,812 
3,375 
9,104 
1,131 
1,969 
64,698 
12,314 
2,820 

8,261 
12,308 
64,137 
30.477 

2,600 

67,081 

85,671 

227,710 

2,604 

2,130 



1890. 



9,728 

8,070 

. 22,496 

6,714 

4,503 

88,203 

17,498 

9,391 

43,239 

21,849 

89,630 

62,155 

2,926 

79,664 

104,805 

347,344 

18,055 

6,494 

1,569 



371,098 603,202 944,333 



— 108 



v.— WAQE-WOBKINQ CLASS. 



Occupatious. 



1870. 



QBOXJF 1. — Clerical, etc. 
Book-keepers, clerks, salesmen, ste- 
nographers and typewriters 

Commercial travelers 

Foremen and overseers 

Telegraph and telephone operators . . . 
Weighers, gaugers and measurers 

Total for Group 1 

GBOUF 2. — ^Manufacturing and Me- 
chanical. 
Mechanical trades: 

Carpenters and joiners 

Marble and stone cutters 

Masons (brick and stone) 

Mechanics (not otherwise specified) 

Painters, glaziers and vamlshers . . 

Paper-hangers 

Plasterers 

Plumbers and gas and steam fitters 

Roofers and slaters 

Whitewashers 

Total 

Metal workers: 

Agricultural implement makers (not 
otherwise specified) 

Blacksmiths 

Brassworkers (not otherwise specified) 

Clock and watch makers and re- 
pairers 

Copper workers 

Electroplaters 

Gold and silver workers 

Gunsmiths, locksmiths and bell- 
hangers 

Iron and steel workers 

Lead and zinc workers 

Machinists 

Metal workers (not otherwise 
specified) 

Molders 

Nail and tack makers 

Sewing machine makers (not other- 
wise specified) 

Steam boiler makers 

Stove, furnace and grate makers . . . 

Tinners and tinware makers 



1880. 



327,492 



344,596 

25,831 

89,710 

16,514 

86,657 

2,490 

23,800 

11,143 

2,750 

2,873 



606,364 



3,811 

142,075 

4,863 

1,779 
2,122 

18,508 

8,184 

87,098 

649 

54,755 

79 



3,881 

6,958 

1,543 

30,524 



591,359 



373,143 

32,842 

102,473 

7,858 

130,319 

5,013 

22,083 

19,383 

4,026 

3,316 



700,456 



4,891 

172,726 

11,568 

13,820 
2,342 

28,405 

10,572 

116,927 

2,105 

101,130 



5,803 

2,725 
12,771 

3,341 
42,818 



1890. 



310,988 


536,733 


1,014,544 


7,262 


28,158 


58,691 




> 


36,084 


8,316 


23,166 


52,214 


926 


3,302 


3,860 



1,165,393 



611,482 
61,070 

158,918 
15,485 

219,912 

12,369 

39,002 

56,607 

7,043 

3,996 



1,185,884 



3,755 

205,337 
17,265 

25,252 
3,384 
2,756 

20,263 

9,158 
144,921 

4,616 
177,090 

16,694 

66,289 

4,583 

880 

21,339 

8,932 

55,488 



Tool and entlery makers 

Wheelwrig-hts 

Wlra workers 

Total 

Engineers and firemen (not loco- 
motive) 

Wood workerg, piano makers, etc.: 

Basket makers 

Broom and brush makers 

Cabinet malters 

CarrlHBe and waEon makers (not 
otherwise claselfled) 

Door, Bash and blind makers 

Piano and organ makers (also tuners) 

Saw and planing mill employees 

Ship and boat builders 

Upholsterers 

Wood workers (not otherwise speci- 
fied) 

Total 

Food and drink prepireia: 

Bakers 

Bottlers and mineral and soda water 

Brewers and maltsters 



Butter and cheese makers 

Confectioners 

Distillers and rectifiers 

Meat, fish and fruit packers, cannera 

and preservers 

Millers (flour and grist) 

Salt works employees 

Sugar makers and refiners 



Total 

Clothing makers: 

Button makers 

Corset makers 

Dress makers, milliners and i 



Glove makers 

Hat and cap makers 

Lace and embroidery makers . 
Rubber factory operatives . . . 
Sewing macbise operators . . . 



1 im 


1«». 


im 


6,764 


15.588 


17,985 


30,942 


15,592 


12,856 


2,796 


7.170 


12.319 


397,331 


570,294 


831,162 


34,233 


79,628 


139,765 


3.297 


5,654 


5,225 


5,816 


8,479 


10,115 


42.835 


60,654 


35.915 


42.464 


49,881 


34,538 


43,S47 


53.199 


47.486 


5,155 


4,946 


5.041 


3.579 


7,850 


15,335 


es,02& 


87.411 


133,637 


23.175 


19,515 


22.951 


6,111 


10.443 


25,666 


10,789 


16,833 


67,360 


244,893 


314,865 


403.269 


27.680 


41.309 


60.197 


458 


2,081 


7.230 


11.246 


16,278 


20,362 


44.354 


76.241 


105.456 


3.534 


4,570 


11.2H 


8,219 


13.692 


23.251 


2,874 


3^45 


3.314 


2,377 


6,296 


7,109 


41,582 


53,440 


52,841 


1.721 


1,431 


1,765 


1.609 


2,327 


2.616 


145.654 


220,910 


295.352 


1.272 


4,872 


2,601 




4,660 


6,533 


93.523 


286.981 


499.690 


2,329 


4,511 


6,416 


12.625 


16.860 


24.013 




1.708 


5.256 


3.886 


6.350 


16,162 


3,042 


7.505 


7,126 





ie«o. 


Shirt, collar and cuff makers 


4,080 

2,029 

161,820 

1,439 


U,823 

4,229 

133,756 

1,967 


21.107 

3.666 

185.400 

3,403 




Umbrella and paraaol makers 


ToUl 


286.042 


485,222 


781.373 


Textile workers: 


15,669 

U1.606 

3.653 

44,806 
3,738 
3,256 

5S.S36 
4.W1 


17.068 
169,771 
12,194 

39,632 
5,419 

18,071 
88,010 

8.222 


22.302 




Hosiery and hnttting mill operatives 

Mill and factory operatives (not 

specified) 


29.555 
93.596 




34.855 
84,109 
14,210 




1 Bleacliers, dyers and scourers 


Total 


246,465 


358.387 


458,470 


Leather workers: 

Boot ana shoG makers and repairers 
Harness and saddle makers and re- 


in.l27 
33.426 
30.726 
2.047 


194,079 
39,960 
29,842 
4.410 


213.544 
43,480 
39.332 


Leather curriers, dressers, finishers 

and tanners 

Trunk, valise, leather case and 








237.326 1 268,291 


302,635 




Printers, engravers, bookbinders, etc.: 

Bookbinders 

Engravers 

Printers, lithographers, pressmen. 


9,104 
4,226 

40,424 


13,833 
4,577 

72,726 


23.858 
8.320 

118.424 




Total 


53.754 1 91.136 


150,602 


Workers in other manufacturing and 
and mechanical industries: 


1.169 

901 
6,080 

26.070 
1,092 
1,942 
3,834 

■■„e 

2.086 
9.618 
1,026 


3,399 
1,888 
15,762 

36.052 

1.375 
2.923 
5,861 
2.923 
1.383 
4.695 
17.934 
1.965 


3,046 






' 


Brick and tile makers and terra cotta 
workers 


60.214 


Candle, soap and tallow makers .... 
Charcoal, coke and lime burners . . . 
Chemical works emplojeea 


3,460 
8,704 
3,628 




5.224 
34.282 
1,251 


Glass workers 





— Ill 



I f 

Occupations. 

Model and pattern makers 

Oil well employees ; . 

Oil works employees 

Paper mill operatives 

Photographers '. 

Potters 

Powder and cartridge makers 

Rope and cordage makers 

Sail, awning and tent makers 

Starch makers 

Tobacco (cigar makers and factory 
operatives) 

Well borers 

Others in manufacturing and me- 
chanical industries 

Also apprentices in manufacturing 
and mechanical industries 

Total 

Recapitulation of Group 2: 

Mechanical trades 

Metal workers 

Engineers and firemen (not loco- 
motive) 

Wood workers, piano makers, etc. . . 

Food and drink preparers 

Clothing makers 

Textile workers 

Leather workers 

Printers, engravers, bookbinders, etc. 

Other manufacturing and mechan- 
ical workers 

Total for Group 2 

GROUP 3.— Workers engaged in Trans- 
porting, Packing, Storing, Ex- 
pressing, Delivering, etc. ; also 
Linemen, etc. 

Bteam railroad employees 

Street railway employees 

Total for steam and street railway 
employees 

Draymen, hackmen, teamsters, etc 

Hostlers 

Total for draymen, etc 

Telegraph and telephone linemen and 
electric light and power company em- 
ployees 



1870. 



1880. 



1890. 



177,585 



606,364 
397,331 

34,233 
244,893 
145,654 
286,042 
246,465 
237,326 

53,754 

177,585 



3,970 


5,822 


10,300- 


3,803 


7,340 


9,147 


1,747 


3,929 


5,624 


12,469 


21,430 


27,817 


7,558 


9,990 


20,040 


5,060 


7,233 


14,928 


761 




1,385 


2,675 


3,514 


8,001 


2,309 


2,950 


3,257 


229 


1,385 


746 


40,271 


77,045 


111,625 






4,854 


25,308 


54,235 


76,714 


17,391 


44,170 


82,457 



335,193 



700,456 
570,294 

79,628 
314,865 
220,910 
485,222 
358,387 
268,291 

91,136 

335,193 



154,027 
5,103 



236,058 
11,687 



159,130 



247,745 



120,756 
17,586 



177,586 
31,697 



138,342 



209,283 



528,664 



1,185,884 
831,162 

139,765 
403,269 
295,352 
781,373 
458,470 
302,635 
150,602 

528,664 



2,429,647 3,424,382 5,077,176 



462,213 
37,434 



499,647 



368,499 
54,036 



422,535 



11,134 



OcuupatloDB. 

Meseengera and errand and office boys 

Newspaper carriers and newsboys 

Pacbera and shippers 

Porters and helpers (In stores and 
warohouaea) 

Total tor messengers, carriers, 

porters, etc 

Boatmen and canal men 

Pilots 

Sailors 

Total for boatmen and sailors 

Other persons In trade and transporta- 
tion (not clerks) 

Total for Group 3 

GROUP 4,— Workers In Agriculture. 

Agricultural laborers 

Dairy men and dairy women 

Lumbermen and raftsmen 

Stock-rBisera. herders and drovers 

Wood choppers . . i 

Other agricultural pursuits 

Total (or Groud 4 

OBOUP 5. — HliieT% Quarrymen, Labor- 
Miners 

Quarrymen 

laborers (not specified) 

Total for Group 5 

OBOUP 6,— Workers in Personal and 

Domestic Service. 

Barbers and hair dressers 

Janitors 

Launderers and laundresses 

Nurses and midwives 

Servants ' 

Sextons 

Others in personal and domestic service 

Total for Group 6 

OBOTJP 7.--A11 Other Persons. 

Fishermen anil oystermen 

Hucksters and pediilers 

Hunters, trappers, guides and scouts . . . 

Soldiers, sailors and marines (U. S.) 

Watchmen, policemen and detectives . . 

Total for Group 7 



1 1870. 


is§a. 


mo. 


8,717 


13,985 


51,366 


2,002 


3^74 


6,288 


5.461 


9.342 


24,946 


16.631 


32,192 


24,356 


32,811 


68,893 


105.945 








3,649 


3.770 


4.269 


56.663 


60,070 


55,899 


88,982 


88,S37 


76.874 


36,346 


47.162 


3,883 


455,611 


651,620 


1,120,018 


B.8S6,99G 


3,323,876 


3,004,061 


3.550 


8,948 


17,895 


17,752 


30,651 


66.866 


15.359 


44.075 


70.729 


8,338 


12,731 


33,697 


2,478 


7,495 


17,747 


2,933,473 


3,427,776 


3.209,996 


152,107 


234.228 


349,592 


13,5S9 


15,169 


37,666 


1,046,966 


1,864,245 


1.913,373 


1,212.662 


2,113,642 


2,300,621 


23,935 


44,851 


84,982 


1.769 


6,763 


21,556 


60.906 


121,942 


248,462 


12,162 


15,601 


47,686 


1.000.417 


1.155.351 


1.546327 


1.151 


2.449 


4.9S2 


15,886 


38.567 


13.063 


1,116,226 


1,386,524 


1.967.4GS 


27,106 


41,352 


60.162 


34,337 


53,491 


69,083 


1.111 


1.912 


2,534 


23,338 


24,161 


27,918 




13.384 


74,629 



I 134,300 I 224,327 



— 113 



Occupations. 



1870. 



188(>. 



1890. 



Becapitulation of Wage Working (or 
Proletarian) Class: 

Group 1 — ^Workers in clerical employ- 
ments 

Group 2 — ^Workers in manufacturing 
and mechanical employments 

Group 3 — Workers in transportation, etc. 

Group 4 — ^Workers in agriculture 

Group 5 — ^Miners, quarrymen, laborers. 

Group 6 — ^Workers in personal and do- 
mestic service 

Group 7 — All other persohs 

Total for wage working or proletarian 
class 



327,492 

2,429,647 

455,611 

2,933,473 

1.212,662 

1,116,226 
85,892 



591,359 

3,424,382 

651,620 

3,427,776 

2,113,642 

1,385,524 
134,300 



1,165,393 

5,077,176 
1,120,013 
3,209,995 
2,300,621 

1,967,458 
224,327 



8,561,003 



11,728,603 



15,064,988 



According to the estimates given above in our comments on each class, 
the several classes in 1890 compared as follows in population and wealth: 

DISTBIBUTION OF WEALTH, 1890. 





Numbers. 


Wealth. 


Per cent, of 


Classes. 


total pop- 
ulation. 


total 
wealth. 


I— Plutocratic Class 


887,390 


$42,000,000,000 


' 1.41 


64.37 


II— Middle Class:— 

Mercantile 


4,771,724 
18,745,758 


$ 6,000,000,000 
10,000,000,000 


7.63 
29.93 


9.20 


Agricultural 


15.33 


Total Middle Class 


23,517,482 


$16,000,000,000 


37.56 


24.53 


Ill — Professional Class 


5,777,532 


?2,500,000,000 


6.03 


3.83 


IV — Working Class 


34,440,046 


$S,750,M0,000 


66.06 


^ 4 "21 






Foreifim Investors 




$2,000,000,000 


• • • • 


3 06 






Total 


62,622,250 


$65,250,000,000 


100.00 


100 00 







It therefore appears from the foregoing table: 

1 — That the Plutocratic Class, representing less than 1% per cent, of the 
population, held more than 64 per cent, (and with its allies, the foreign in- 
vestors, about 67% per cent.) of the total wealth produced by American labor. 

2 — That the Middle Class, Agricultural and Mercantile, represented 37% 
per cent, of the total population and 24% per cent, of the total wealth. 

3 — That the Professional Class, representing 6 per cent, of the population, 
had a little less than 4 per cent, of the total wealth. 

4 — That the Working Class, representing 55 per cent, of the population, 
had a little more than 4 per cent, of the total wealth. 

5 — That, taken together, the Professional and Working Classes, comprising 
the Proletariat and representing 61 per cent, of the total population, owned 
only 8 per cent, of the total wealth, chiefly in the perishable form of tools, in- 
struments, household goods and wearing apparel, having a use value, but no 
exchange value. 



PROGRESS OF BANKRUPTCY. 



C0IOIEH.CIAL FAILUBES IN THE UNITED STATES (1857—1897). 



Yeilr. 



Llabmtlea. 



3S57 

1858 

1859 

1860 

18B1 

1863* 

1863* 

IS64* 

18S5* 

1866 

1SG7 

1868 

1869 

1S70 

1871 , 

187Z 

1873 

1874 

1875 

1876 

1877 

1878 

1879 

1880 

1881 

1882 

1883 

1884 

188E 

1886 

1887 

1888 

1889 

1890 

1891 

1892 

1893 

1894 

1895 

1896 

1897 

• The Btatlatlcl of 1SS2. 



2,780 
2,608 
2,799 
3,551 
2,915 



6,738 
9,184 



10,679 
10.882 
10,907 
13,273 
10,270 
15,508 
12,724 
12.958 
15.094 
13,083 



*391.750.000 
95,749.000 
G4,3S4,000 
79,807.000 
307,310.000 
33.049.000 
7,899,000 
8.579,000 
17.625,000 
53,783.000 
96,666,000 
63,694,000 
75.054,000 
88,242,000 
85,252,000 
121.036,000 
228,499,000 



155,2; 



1,000 



201.060,000 
191,117.000 
190.669.000 
234,383,000 
98.149.000 
65.752.000 
81,156,000 
102,000,000 
173,000,000 
226.000.000 
124,000.000 
115,000.000 
167,600.000 
124,000,000 
149,000,000 
189.860,000 
189,870,000 
108,600,000 
382,150,000 
151.548,000 
158,728,000 
346,919,000 
158,698,000 



426,000 
475,145 
528,971 
559,764 
600,490 
642,423 



724.517 
781,689 
822,256 



969,841 
994,281 
1,046.662 
1,051,140 
1.110,590 
1.142,951 
1.051,564 



1.042,202 



— 115 — 

The table on the foregoing page shows us the obverse side — ^the bank- 
ruptcy side — of Capitalism; but in order to fully comprehend its meaning 
certain facts which do not appear therein but are closely connected therewitli 
must be considered. In other words, the figures here presented should be read 
in the light of history. ^ 

First comes the great crisis year 1857, with its 4,932 failures, involving 
liabilities to the comparatively enormous amount of nearly $300,000,000, show- 
ing the average, unequaled ever since, of $59,000 per failure. This was a good 
old time crisis. There were in those days no giant capitalists, able to resist 
the shock of a panic, and everybody, were it only for self-protection, promptly 
became a bankrupt. After a while "matters adjusted themselves" and business 
resumed its ordinary course. 

Next came, four years later, the crisis of 1861, brought about by the Civil 
War. This was, from the capitalist standpoint, a "blessing in disguise." The 
panic was of short duration. Debts were soon paid in depreciated money. The 
prices of all things began to inflate and everybody — except the wage-worker 
and the soldier — hastened to get rich at the expense of the government, who 
sank into debt at a stupendous rate. While the war lasted the number of 
failures in the Northern States was absolutely insignificant. 

With the disbandment of the armies and the consequent decline of activity 
in the industries that had been chiefly promoted by the extraordinary needs 
of the nation, a recrudescence of bankruptcy was inevitable, and the estab- 
lishments involved were necessarily, for the most part, of some importance; 
so that, in 1867, there were already 2,780 failures, "with liabilities aggregating 
nearly $100,000,000 and showing the high average of $35,000 per failure. Com- 
mercial disasters would have been more numerous but for the fact that even 
reckless speculators, owing to the depreciation of paper money during the 
war, immediately followed by its appreciation upon the re-establishment of 
peace, had amassed wealth more quickly than they could contract debts. 
Through this appreciation stocks and bonds had doubled in actual value, 
while many other forms of property, especially real estate, commanded nearly 
the same prices in improved dollars as they had acquired in depreciated ones. 
Moreover, there were many new fields open to the enterprise of profit-makers. 
Railways, in particular, were a pressing need to the now re-united country, 
and in their patriotic desire to serve the nation best by serving themselves 
first, capitalists and politicians associated their efforts, their abilities, their 
powers, in the comprehensive work of grabbing every public franchise and 
public property in sight. Railroad building on a colossal scale gave an enorm- 
ous impetus to the iron and steel industry. In other leading branches an 
unprecedented activity of invention imparted also a corresponding activity to 
production, while the continuous growth of wealth developed a taste for dis- 
play, which gave rise to a large importation — and ultimately, through tariff 
protection, to the domestic manufacture — of luxuries until then practically 
foreign to this continent. 

Under those conditions the mercantile class, despite the occasional increase 
of failures, continued upon the whole to grow in wealth as well as in numbers. 
In. 1870 there were upon the books of commercial agencies 426,000 firms and 
corporations of various sizes, doing each a sufficient amount of business to 
deserve a "rating". In 1871 the number of such firms increased to 475,000, 
but the number of failures decreased to 2,915 (or 1 failure in 63 business 
firms) ; the average amount of liabilities per failure being $29,000. Apparently 



— 116 — 

the sky was bright, "the country" was prosperous. Those were still, in fact, 
the golden days of the middle class. 

There was, however, an evident premonition of disturbance in 1872, when 
the number of failures rose to 4,000 and the liabilities to $121,000,000. All in 
vain, of course. But this time, indeed, enterprise in almost every direction 
had overreached the limits of safety, speculation had become blindly reckless, 
luxurious living and insolent display not only had passed into a rule of con- 
duct among the wealthier parvenus but were resorted to by the sinking pre- 
tenders as a means of deception, and in all the strata of the middle class 
there was a large proportion of people doing business with borrowed money. 
The crash finally came in the last days of 1873. 

For six long years the "liquidation" went on. When at the end of 18X9 
the capitalistic machine was sufllciently freed of rubbish to start again on a 
prosperous tour, it was found that the number of bankrupts swept out of 
existence during the prolonged crisis was nearly 54,000, with liabilities amount- 
ing to $1,365,000,000. 

Yet, singular as it may appear, the number of firms on the books of com- 
mercial agencies had during the same period increased from 560,000 to 702,000. 
As the number of establishments in manufacturing and mechanical industries, 
according to the census, increased only 1,704 from 1870 to 1880, nearly the whole 
of the increase reported by the agencies must have consisted in firms purely 
commercial — that is, engaged in the transportation and distribution of prod- 
ucts. 

That such was the case cannot be doubted. As the census conclusively 
shows, the crisis of 1873 — 79 greatly favored the concentration of capital in 
manufacturing industry, not only barring out of this field the adventurers of 
small means but rendering it uninviting to men of some pecuniary solidity 
so long as other fields remained open. No such concentration had as yet taken 
place in commerce, and especially in the retail trade; nor in the agriculture of 
the Western and Southern States, whose farmers and planters, although 
by no means prosperous, were steadily increasing their product to meet the 
enlarging demand of foreign countries and the requirements of a growing 
domestic population, thereby affording to transporters and merchants some 
additional opportunities of employment. It is safe to say, however, that a 
large majority of the new firms were of small financial calibre; mere fuel in 
reserve for the advancing fire of bankruptcy. 

The "revival of business" was hailed with delight by everybody, and by 
no one more gratefully to God Capital than by the workingman who himself 
created that idol and made it so powerful that he must reverently depend 
upon it for his daily bread. It was unquestionably a great revival. As every 
capitalist said that the profits were small, we may, if we please, believe that 
it was so. As every record shows that the wages were low, we must, will 
or nil, believe that such was the case, and that the wage earner, so long idle 
and starving, was glad enough to get any wages at all. At any rate, in 
proportion to the number of firms engaged and the amount of business done 
the failures of 1880 were less in number and liabilities than at any previous 
time since the Civil War. They increased somewhat in 1881, sensibly more 
in 1882, largely in 1883, and at last, in 1884, footed up nearly 11,000 in number 
and $226,000,000 in liabilities. The amount involved was almost exactly the 
same as in 1873, but the number of bankrupts was more than double. Yet there 
was no crisis, except for those who fell by the way. The others, who went 



— 117 — 

on gaily making "small profits'* as usual, called it a "depression." In fact 
there was not the ghost of a depression either, except on the "labor market/* 
where the thing was not a ghost but a hard reality. Vast numbers of men 
had been thrown out of work by the introduction of labor-saving machinery 
on an unprecedented scale of magnitude and eflBciency. But in nearly all 
the branches of industry production was increasing in quantity and value; 
in quantity, no doubt, more than in value; not, however, because more was 
produced than was needed, but simply because the improved machinery per- 
mitted to produce, and therefore to sell, more cheaply. 

And so this growing movement of wealth development ludicrously called 
depression went on, presenting to the "vulgar bourgeois economist" depicted 
by Marx a variety of statistical phenomena, which in appearance were of 
the most confusing and contradictory sort it had ever been his good fortune 
to gaze upon in stupid wonderment. 

For instance, in the nine years 1883 — 1891, inclusive, 95,000 firms went 
into bankruptcy, with a total liability of about $1,450,000,000. Surely, as our 
stupid bourgeois economist saw it, this was plain evidence of depression. 
Yet, the number of firms on the books of commercial agencies steadily in- 
creased, year after year, from 822,000a in 1882, to 1,143,000 in 1891. Surely, 
then, as our wiseacre had now to own it, there couud not have been any 
depression. Moreover, as already stated, production and wealth had in the- 
meantime increased enormously. In six years we had more than doubled our 
output of iron and finally passed England in this standard industry. The- 
world was more than ever dependent upon us for breadstuffs, provisions,, 
cotton, petroleum and other necessaries. The census of 1890 had shown for 
the decade an addition of 22 billions of dollars to the estimated value of all 
kinds of property. "We" — the propertied class — were now amassing treasure- 
at the rate of 3,000 million dollars a year. If all that was "depression," what 
might exhilaration be? 

In 1892, the number of failures declined and the amount of liabilities grew 
smaller than it had been since 1882. To all appearances the horizon was* 
brighter and "the country" more prosperous than it had ever been. Surely 
the "depression," if there had been any, was now at an end. The previous> 
washing away of rotten timber had cleared the way for a further advance. 
Yet, in that year, the number of firms on the books of Bradstreet's showed' 
a falling off of 91,000, and six months later (July, 1893), a stupendous crisis- 
burst upon the country like a clap of thunder in a cloudless sky. 

Increasing bankruptcy with increasing prosperity; increasing enterprise with- 
increasing bankruptcy; then, decreasing enterprise with increasing prosperity 
and decreasing failure; lastly, a spontaneous tumbling down of the whole 
edifice at the time of its greatest apparent solidity; how could all those con- 
flicting or contradictory facts be reconciled? What had happened to thus; 
change all the "eternal laws" of the capitalist system as laid down by the- 
Manchester school of competitive economy? 

Something, indeed, had occurred; which had not changed any eternal 
laws, however, but on the contrary was itself a logical result of the only law" 
that, so far as we know, is eternal, namely, the law of evolution. 

On the resumption of business in 1880, Capitalism had entered a new 
phase — the phase of trustification — in accordance with the new conditions- 
issued from the long crisis through which it had passed since 1873. Of course,, 
there had been some concentration before, and there was still to be much com- 



— 118 — 

petition later. Between two successive epochs there is no sharp line of de- 
marcation; the transition is more or less gradual. But the prevailing tend- 
ency of each epoch is the chief point to be considered in determining its 
<;haracter. According to this rule the epoch of capitalistic concentration in 
the United States may safely be dated from 1880, although the prevalence of 
its characteristic tendency did not fully appear, even to clear-sighted observers, 
until a few years later, that is, until the movement of trustification had 
manifested itself by a number of great "combines,"* not only in the manu- 
facturing industries (which, as already stated above, had been well advanced 
In that direction by the previous crisis), but in the upper strata or com- 
merce, transportation and agriculture. 

From that time the capitalist world was divided Into two classes, more 
and more distinct, namely: 1. The Plutocratic class, representing the "New 
Capitalism" and composed of vast aggre^ted interests; 2. the Middle Class, 
representing the "Old Capitalism" and composed of small, individual, segre- 
gated units. Outside of the plutocratic combinations, but actually belonging 
to the plutocratic class, stood a number of wealthy and influential business 
men, averse to the idea of relinquishing the control or management of their 
own affairs, and unwilling to amalgamate their interests with those of despised, 
hated or mistrusted rivals. Against these rebels, of course, all the power 
of the "combines" was first directed; and in the resulting confiict between the 
gigantic forces involved the smaller concerns were as effectually swept out 
of existence as they might have been if the plutocratic factions, instead of 
warring among themselves, had immediately united for the destruction of 
their middle class inferior competitors. 

The first phenomenon above referred to, of an increase of bankruptcy in 
the midst of prosperity, is thus readily explained. It will become still more 
comprehensible as we proceed. The second one — increasing enterprise with 
increasing bankruptcy — may now be considered. 

Under capitalism there is compulsory idleness, but there is also com- 
pulsory activity; and one is about as bad as the other, because the latter, by 
Its misdirection and unprofitableness, is generally, like the former, a waste 
of human power. 

From the progress of trustification in the higher branches of manufacture, 
transportation and commerce, naturally resulted a simplification of methods 
and an economy of labor not less important in the administrative than in 
the technical or mechanical department of production. In those branches 
the superintending and clerical force was gradually reduced to the fullest 
possible extent. The labor thus dispensed with had until then been of the 
best paid. Those who had performed it were, upon the whole, persons of 
so-called good conduct and provident habits, carrying an insurance policy and 
a savings bank account; in a word, holding property of some sort sufficient 
to distinctly place them, both in fact and in sympathy, outside of the prole- 
tariat. With the small capital at their command they could not undertake 
to compete with the larger establishments that no longer needed their services 
as employees. Nor would they, even if they could, have become mechanics or 
operatives. They did the most sensible, the most natural thing they could 
think of; the only thing which they could actually do. Either as agents or 
as dealers they entered the ranks of the mercantile middle class. 

Nor were they the only ones compelled to take this course. Skilled mechanics 
in far greater number, displaced by machinery or disgusted with their trades 



— 119 — 

by successive reductions of wages, growing unsteadiness of employment, andi. 
hopeless struggles against the downward tendency of earnings, similarly- 
undertook to better their condition by embarking with such small savings, 
as they had previously been able to make, perchance also with a small in- 
heritance or some borrowed money in the rotten ship of middle class business* = 

Properly analyzed — as they are elsewhere in this publication — the figures.. 
of the census not only confirm but explain those of Bradstreet's commercial 
agency, by showing the full extent, petty mercantilism and compulsory nature 
of the movement of "enterprise" which they reveal in the face of growing bank- 
ruptcy. From 1880 to 1890, Bradstreet's figures show an increase of 386,000 • 
in the number of firms with a "credit" or no "credit rating" on its books. 
On the other hand the Census shows for the same period an increase of 
685,0.00, composed as follows: 211,000 "merchants and dealers" (puny con- 
cerns, of course, for the most part); 216,000 hotel, restaurant, saloon, livery 
stable, boarding house and inn keepers; 31,000 builders and contractors; 
140,000 commission, real estate, insurance and other "agents," and about 
87,000 small "manufacturing and mechanical" establishments. Of the latter, . 
40,000 were in the clothing trades, which in the ten years under consideration 
were developed on the lines of the "sweating system," that is, actually carried 
on by a comparatively few great firms, employing each many contractors or 
"sweaters"; 24,000 figured in the building trades as "boss" carpenters, masons, 
painters, plasterers, plumbers, roofers, etc., and were also in reality sub- 
contractors, or "sweaters"; the remainder consisted of established bakers, 
confectioners, cigarmakers, watch and clock repairers, cobblers, photographers, 
picture framers, and suchlike "gagne-petits." Observe, by the way, that owing 
to the inclusion of those 87,000 "cockroach bosses" in the Census, the grand 
total of manufacturing concerns, the actual concentration of manufacturing 
capital is at first hidden from the superficial observer; but its magnitude soon 
appears upon closer inspection, for it is then found that in all the great in- 
dustries there was from 1880 to 1890 a marked decrease or an insignificant 
increase in the number of establishments, coincident with an enormous addi- 
tion to the amount of capital engaged. 

Keeping all these facts in view, whether we turn to manufacturing industry, 
commerce, transportation, and even agriculture, we readily see: (1) That the - 
field of enterprise, ever so enlarged to great capitalists by new opportunities, 
has been considerably narrowed to the middle class by constant encroach- 
ments of the plutocracy upon spheres of business activity formerly occupied, 
either partly or exclusively, by individuals of small means; (2) that within 
the narrower field which is still accessible to persons of limited resources, 
weaker and weaker adventurers, obedient to the irresistible law of necessity, 
have been pressing in steadily growing numbers. 

We now come to the third puzzling fact — the unprecedented fact of 1892, 
namely, decrease of bankruptcy and simultaneous decline in the number of 
business firms. 

The explanation of it is quite simple. We need only remember that the 
years 1890, 1891 and 1892 were, upon the whole, the most prosperous that "the 
country" had yet enjoyed. In the enlarged and constantly enlarging field of 
great capitalistic operations all the industries were in full bloom. Not only 



* For further information on this subject see under the head of "Manufactures'* our 
figures and comments relating to the increase and decrease of establishments in manufactur- 
ing and mechanical industries. 



— 120 — . 

Jn domestic production, but in foreign commerce an unexampled activity pre- 
vailed. Our imports and exports were larger than they had ever been, and 
ihe balance of trade, which for the previous two years had been against 
lus, had now strongly turned in our favor, aggregating for the three years in 
(Question a sum of more than $300,000,000. 

Of course this prosperity was but little felt in the constantly narrowing 
and overcrowding circle of middle-class business. Rather the contrary; for 
.we see that the number of failures, which occured almost exclusively in that 
<circle, attained in 1890 and 1891 figures previously unequalled. The retail 
^(trade, in particular, was badly shaken by the growth of the department-store 
:fsystem in all the centres of population, and by the successful attempt of cer- 
tain trusts to fix the retail price of their products in order to break down the 
middle-class' hypocritical argument, that both the object and effect of such 
.combinations were to make the necessaries of life dearer to the consumers. 

But it must be admitted that the extraordinary activity of plutocratic 
enterprise caused for a while a sensible decrease of enforced idleness among 
^he wage-workers, despite the progress of labor-saving machinery. On an 
average the rate of wages had certainly not advanced; in a number of great 
Industries it had fallen after protracted and desperate struggles for an ad- 
vance or against a reduction; yet, steadier employment resulted in larger 
^earnings, and the wider opening to labor kept in the ranks of the wage- 
working class many craftsmen who would otherwise have been compelled to 
-seek some means of living in any sort of occupation productive of the barest 
necessaries. Of the great wealth that was being amassed by th^ plutocracy 
two-thirds were being permanently crystallized in the forms of building and 
machinery, which consequently employed a greater number than ever of the 
best paid mechanics. The regal luxury and senseless waste of the millionaire 
.class promoted also the development of various industries, requiring the high- 
est skill of modern artisans. To those circumstances only can be traced the 
marked decrease, in 1892, of the number of firms on the books of commercial 
agencies. Many abandoned the unprofitable business into which they had 
been previously compelled to engage in order to earn a living and resumed 
their trade as wage-workers. 

We have reached the crisis of 1893. This, we said, broke out unexpectedly 
in the midst of unparalleled capitalistic prosperity and at a time when the 
material elements of further advance were so abundant as to apparently pre- 
,clude the possibility of a break-down, or even of a slowing up, of the business 
machine. In fact a point had been reached, in the evolution of capitalism, 
where a crisis of the same sort and produced by the same causes as formerly 
not only seemed but actually was for ever out of question. Before proceed- 
ing further this should be made quite plain, for the understanding of it 
is essential to the comprehension of subsequent developments. 

Of course, it was not expected by any sensible person that the condition 
of the middle-class would be greatly improved or even could not become still 
worse if the favorable state of capitalistic affairs continued undisturbed. But, 
as an economic factor, the condition of that class had ceased to be of funda- 
mental importance. The government of production had almost entirely 
passed into the hands of the plutocracy. And with the change of rulers there 
had been a radical change of system. Production had emerged from the 
anarchic state in which competition had maintained it under middle-clasB 
preponderance and management. Supply was no longer the hap-hazard re- 



— 121 — 

suit of disconnected guesses, made from insufficient data and acted upon by 
ill-informed and ignorantly speculative individuals. In the syndicated and 
trustified industries it was so regulated as to meet the* demand, which it had 
become possible for their managers to correctly and quickly ascertain through 
the extensive organization and perfect centralization of the means of in- 
formation. If in some great "combine" this common sense rule was departed 
from, it was not because of the ignorance but because of the rascality of the 
schemers in control, who, for the purpose of freezing out their not less un- 
scrupulous but more naive associates, resorted to the wrecking methods that 
won for Jay Gould a royal fortune and for his progeny a feudal coronet. If^ 
however, in spite of the care taken a mistake was honestly made or the cir- 
cumstances were such that a surplus product was temporarily created, the 
trust could simply shut down until the market was clear. It had ample means 
to carry on a stock, was in no need to sell at a sacrifice in order to meet its 
obligations and could therefore maintain its prices. In a word, while failure 
in the upper stratum of capitalism might still be an occasional event, it could 
not be so widespread, or so disastrous to the wealthy creditors affected thereby, 
as to cause a general panic and a consequent derangement in the whole ma- 
chinery of production. 

There was, however, a dark spot in this delectable picture of economic 
solidity and plutocratic serenity. 

We cannot here digress at length into a history of the money question 
and of the great political fight made of late years upon that fraudulent issue. 
But insomuch as it relates to the special subject here considered, we must 
remind our readers of the state of political aftaii^ at the time of the crisis. 
In 1892, the Populist party, chiefiy composed of indebted farmers who de- 
manded the unlimited coinage of silver in order to pay their debts with de- 
preciated money, succeeded in casting over 1,000,000 votes for its Presidential 
candidate. The position of those farmers was indeed critical. The value of , 
agricultural produce on the general market (where gold alone is now the 
commercially accepted standard), was lower than it had been for a great 
many years; yet its fall had been actually greater on the farm than on the 
market, because the traffickers at the centers of trade, in league with the 
transportation and storage "combines," availed themselves of the pressing 
needs of the farmer to increase their profits at his expense, although they 
required less money to buy his produce. Incidentally the Populists demanded 
also the nationalization of the railroads and the establishment of national sub- 
treasuries, connected with national warehouses in which the farmers might 
store their produce until they could sell it to advantage, receiving thereon 
in the meantime advances of money from the sub-treasuries at a very low 
rate of interest. Some even went so far as to propose that the national govern- 
ment substitute itself for the money lenders who held mortgages upon the 
farms, and for this purpose issue legal tender notes to the required amount. 
For obvious reasons, however, this "greenback" appendix to the silver pro- 
gramme did not meet with the approval of the "silver barons," whose finan- 
cial support was necessary to the movement. 

It must be admitted that this Populist class-scheme was sufficiently com- 
prehensive, and that the vigor with which it was taken up revealed the 
existence among the farmers of a class-consciousness equal, perhaps, to that 
of the plutocracy and at any rate immensely superior to that of the mercantile 
middle-class of cities, which had actually degenerated into a rabble. The 



^ 122 — ; ' 

"'charge" made against it by plutocratic organs, that it was "socialistic" or 
in any way tended to Socialism, was on its face a gross absurdity. Its essen- 
tial purpose was to benefit the farming class exclusively and to use as a 
:means the powers of government with as much disregard for all other in- 
terests as the plutocracy itself had done. Moreover, it contemplated above 
all things the maintenance of the individualistic system of property and pro- 
eduction, especially in agriculture, and of the wage-system in its entirety. The 
railroads were to be run by the government with the same ill-paid labor as 
is now employed by the corporations, but at the lowest possible rates of trans- 
portation, so that the profits which now go into the coffers of plutocrats might 
be made to flow into the pockets of the farmers. For, if the government, 
when it was under plutocratic rule, had the right to give the plutocratic class 
the income of valuable franchises, it would also have the right, when under 
farming rule, to transfer that income to the farming class. Again, the govern- 
iment had lent its credit to the national banks and good money by the hundred 
million dollars to the Pacific railways, beside giving the latter in full pro- 
perty a territorial empire. Why should it not lend its boundless credit and 
:any amount of depreciated money to the farmers? In a word, the govern- 
rment had committed monstrous wrongs for the enrichment of a certain class 
which controlled its action; why should it not commit similar wrongs for the 
enrichment of another class, powerful enough politically to oust the other? 
Manifestly, the question was not as to what was just, but as to who was 
'Strong. It was in its every sense and nonsense a capitalistic question. 

Mock as they would tjje Populist notions, the plutocrats could not laugh 
♦down the strength of the farmers, backed as these were by the "silver barons" 
and led by politicians of no less experience than unscrupulousness, versed in 
the use of "balances of power" and ready at all times for fusion and con- 
fusion. True, considered singly and apart from all other circumstantial data, 
the Populist vote, however surprising, was not in itself immediately alarming. 
Until then, the Democratic party had been safe enough. Its triumph at the 
Presidential election over the Republican party — the preferred party of the 
millionaire class— had not in the least weakened the hold of plutocracy on 
government; for its accepted leaders (the Whitneys, the Belmonts, the Brices, 
•etc.) were leading plutocrats, and its successful candidate, Grover Cleveland, 
Nwas as yellow a "gold-bug" as could be found throughout Goldbugdom. But 
as the Populist propaganda, encouraged by the Populist vote and strengthened 
'by the continuous fall in the prices of agricultural produce, was rapidly ex- 
tending westward and southward, there were ominous signs of rebellion in 
many Democratic organizations. Most significant also was the fact that Re- 
publican "statesmen" from silver districts were openly "unsound" oh the 
money question, while others of the same party in doubtful districts did their 
best to dodge the issue. 

It was high time to have a crisis. The responsibility for it would naturally 
'fall upon the silver agitators, who, by frightening the money lenders, had wan- 
tonly disturbed the great business interests of the country, achieved only the 
ruin of their own dupes and brought on starvation into the home — the "sweet 
home" — of every workingman. "Foolish farmer! Poor workingman!" 

Of course we do not charge, as some imaginative Populists have done, that 

the crisis was the result of a secret conspiracy between the money lenders — 

"a conspiracy of the Money Power." In the first place the Socialists under- 

stand thoroughly that there is no "Money Power" distinct and separate from 



— 123 — 

the "Capitalist Power/* any more than there can be a living leg or arm dis- 
tinct and separate from a man's body. The banks are an organ of the capi- 
talist body, which owns them and uses them, not for its destruction, but for its. 
purpose. CAPITAL, MONEY. NO CAPITAL, NO MONEY. In the second 
place, the Socialists fully realize that there was no need of a conspiracy; no 
need even of an understanding between any number of capitalists in any par- 
ticular line of business. When a class has reached the degree of conscious- 
ness required for the assumption of government, it spontaneously and openly^ 
makes its coups-d'6tat or its revolution, according as it is in power or out of 
it. The crisis of '93 was a spontaneous coup-d'6tat of the plutocratic class. 

But the particular point upon which we insist and which we hope to have 
made quite clear — for it is of fundamental import as a key to the understand- 
ing of present conditions — is that this crisis was not and could not be, like* 
the anterior ones, the effect of so-called overproduction, or overspeculation, 
or scarcity of money, or misdirection of enterprise, or lack of capital, or waste- 
of wealth beyond the means of expenditure, or any of the purely economic 
causes which in the competitive phase of capitalism were each and all apt to 
disarrange and stop its ill-adjusted machinery. Nor had Nature, or accident, 
or foreign relations, anything to do with it. It was simply the inevitable out- 
come of an inevitable class conflict between the plutocracy and the farmocracy^ 
for the possession of goveiiiment. 

And we need not say that upon the whole it proved of immense benefit tO' 
the plutocracy. It cleared the way for further concentration and trustification 
on a formidable scale. Of the 79,054 business concerns that failed in the* 
United States and Canada during the five years 1893 — ^1897, inclusive, only 8^ 
were firms or corporations operating with a capital of $500,000 or more, and 50- 
of these failed in 1893. How many of these few larger bankrupts had pre- 
viously stood in the way of the trustifiers we have no means of ascertaining. 
This, however, is of comparatively small import. The matter of most con- 
sequence is that an immense amount of property formerly belonging not only 
to the bankrupts duly recorded as such, but to sold out farmers, real estate 
owners, etc., who were not included in the statistics of failures, passed into the- 
hands of the plutocratic class. 

The figures which we have just presented would alone conclusively de- 
monstrate the financial solidity of the North American plutocracy and its ability 
to face any crisis without fear of serious injury. They show that, Jupiter-like, 
it wields the lightning and is not struck by it. But they do not yet convey 
an adequate idea of the vast economic distance which places the orbit of its 
economic motion so far beyond that of the puny and mercantile middle-class- 
planet, that the prosperity of the former can hardly be affected by the dis- 
astrous happenings in the latter body. 

This fact is more strikingly illustrated by the recent figures of production. 

As a matter of course, when the plutocracy initiated the crisis by calling 
in its loans and suspending its great industries, production of nearly all kinds- 
fell off largely. But the consequent period of enforced vacation for millions- 
of wage-workers was not one of complete idleness for the employers. It was-- 
promptly availed of for the introduction of new machinery, and in a com- 
paratively short time the industries engaged in the production of those com- 
modities which may be termed "capitalistic" because they are exclusively^ 
destined to meet the requirements or purposes of the capitalistic class, re- 
sumed with an enlarged productive power but with a reduced labor foree. ^^c^.- 



— 124 - 



ployed at lowered wage rates. For obvioua reasons the moTement ot pig 
Iron is the best surface indlcatioa of plutocratic activity and prosperity. Turn- 
ing, therefore, to thU great capitalistic barometer we find that the production 
of pig Iron, vblch waa 9,200,000 tons in 1S90, when we passed England, fell to 
<,657,000 tone In 1894, when in eplte of the "general prostration of Indnatry" 
It was atill greater than in any year prior to 138S; but it rose to the un* 
precedented figure of 9,446,000 tons In 1895, when the crisis was still raging 
with great yioience In the mercantile middle class. Manifestly, regardless of 
the crisis, or rather because of it; regardless of the sufferings imposed upon 
the wage working class by the conflict between its eiploiters for political and 
eeconomic supremacy, or rather because of it; the plutocratic class waa then, 
and has been since then, amassing wealth at a rate unequalled In the history 
ol capitalism. 

Returning now to the mercantile middle-class, we subjoin the following 
table, which will no doubt be found of the highest Interest: 



BUSINESS FAILXJRBS IN THE UNITED STATES AND CANADA. 1893—1897. 

CLASSIFIED ACCORDING TO CAPITAL EMPLOYED. 

(From Bradstreet's Reports.) 





NmiiLerotfiillures. 


Per crint. of e.-ich olaas. 




II 1 1 1 1 ill 


1 nil lili 


S5 000 or less 


13,361 
1,134 
S2G 


13,810 
2,3S4 
MB 


12,aBa 
1,270 
JS7 

z 


1,103 

aro 


269 






8.t 

.■ 
.0 


m^ 


T1 


K.m asd le» tlun m.m 


7 
2 


i 






8 
3 


e 




















'•■'"*■' 


ir,,WM,,3V|ll,S,-lI.t..-M,,2M.|." 


J11HJ.U 













The foregoing figures speak for themselves. By adding together the fail- 
ures of each class it will furthermore be seen that for the crisis period 1893 
to 1897, taken as a whole, the percentages of bankruptcy were as follows: 
Firms having a capital Ol: — 

(5,000 or less 87.75 per cent. 

$5,000 and less than (20,000 9.30 per cent. 

Total (or (20,000 and less 97.05 per cent. 

(20,000 and less than (50,000 2.71 per cent. 

All above (50.000 24 per cent. 

Total 100.00 

Nor is this all; far from It. There Is, Indeed, a. further story told In the 
dry. statistical language of Bradstreet's, which would seem incredible If it 
came from a source less authoritative. In its "Record of the CommerciaJ, 
Death Rate" in the United States and Canada for 1897, this great agency sums 
up as follows the number of dead business concerns erased from its hooks and 
the number of new ones inscribed thereon during that year: 

Total number ot firms at the beginning of 1897 1,168,343 ' 

Namea erased during the year 223,332 

New names added during the year 241,542 



— 125 — 

In briefly commenting upon these figures (which, it must be remarked, 
are not exceptional, since the record of several consecutive years immediately 
preceding shows results substantially similar) Bradstreet's observes: "What 
could be more striking testimony as to the proportion of new blood injected 
into the business world annually, and as to the number which fall by the 
way — those failing to pay what they owe, and those who merely fail to suc- 
ceed?" 

"Striking testimony,'* to be sure. Striking testimony as to the infernal 
chaos through which a quarter million troubled souls, representing one-fifth of 
the total number "in business," are annually whirling away to their doom. At 
this rate it would take hardly five years to wipe out of existence the whole 
mercantile "middle-class," so-called, were it not that the "injection of new 
blood" goes on even faster than the spilling of old one. What a bloody 
business! Rather poor, too, this "new blood," and constantly poorer. We saw 
where it came from. How long will it flow? Is its source inexhaustible? 



EFFECTS OF THE CRISIS IN CONNECTICUT. 

An investigation made by the Labor Bureau of Connecticut, covering 378 
leading establishments which together employ 48.17 per cent of the total labor 
engaged in the manufacturing industries of that State, gives the following 
results for the period extending from June, 1893, to August, 1894, as compared 
with the year 1892: 

Reduction in the average number of employees, 15.17 per cent. 

Working time, two-thirds of full time. 

Reduction in the average rate of wages, 10 per cent. 

Reduction in the average monthly amount paid for wages, 25 per cent. 
In the woolen mills the monthly wage payments fell to 61.34 per cent.; in the 
cutlery and tool factories to 63.87 per cent., and in the fire-arms industry 
to 57.46 per cent., of the average for 1892. 

It may here be observed that the establishments covered by the invest- 
igation were the strongest of their kind, and, therefore, the ablest to continue 
business during the crisis. An investigation embracing also the smaller con- 
cerns, which for the most part had to shut down for a more or less extended 
portion of the period considered, would necessarily show results far more 
disastrous to the labor of Connecticut, whose industries may be taken as 
reflecting the conditions of the whole country. 




THE TRUSTS. 



THE MOVEMENT OF TRTTSTIFICATION. 

In the earlier days of Capitalism nearly all the commodities were pro- 
duced, and many public services were performed, by competing firms or small 
companies. From the progress of machinery necessarily resulted a constantly 
gi*owing concentration of capital and an almost complete substitution of the 
corporate for the partnership form of capitalistic association. Finally, the 
corporations in the same line of business, with a view to their mutual benefit, 
sought to put an end to competition by combining into pools, syndicates, or 
trusts. Even those that enjoyed special monopolies — such, for instance, as 
steam railroads, street car companies, gas and water works, etc. — found it 
advantageous tq thus combine, not only with their immediate neighbors in 
the same city or State, but with similar corporations in other cities or States. 
Besides the great economies which operations on a large scale permitted 
them to realize in the cost of administration, in the purchase of machinery 
and supplies, and in various other ways, there was also the important con- 
sideration of political infiuence, necessary to the maintenance or extension of 
their privileges, and so much the greater as the field of their action, the 
capital at their command and the number of people in their employ became 
larger. 

There is consequently to-day no important industry, no commercial line 
of enterprise, and no service requiring the grant of a public franchise, in which 
such combines do not exist. These arrangements, however, are not yet all 
equally binding, permanent, extensive, or perfect. In some cases they are 
nationally complete; they embrace the whole national territory and domestic 
competition is practically at an end. In a few they even extend beyond the 
boundaries of the country and have already achieved within their respective 
fields the aim of trustification, namely, an international, world-wide monopoly. 
In many instances, however, there are still in the same field a number of rival 
concerns, among which the struggle for supremacy is very bitter. But the 
movement is general, and its object is the same, regardless of its various de- 
grees of advance or of the different forms and methods imposed by different 
circumstances. 

We may further observe that this is in its essence a financial movement. 
The very nature of it requires that it should be led and shaped by financiers 
who make no distinctions between industries, have no preference for one or 
the other, and view all commodities in the light of their exchange value, 
expressed in money, leaving to technical men in their employ all technical 
considerations . of the manufacturing and commercial order as to their re- 
spective use-value.* 



* As Karl Marx observes, "The use- values of cozQmodities furnish the material for a 
special study, that of the cozazaercial knowledge of commodities." And he further remarks 
in a foot note: "In bourgeois societies the economic fiction prevails that every one, as 
a buyer, posseaseB an encyclopsedic knowledge of commodities." 



— 127 — 

As this movement develops great changes occur, both in the appearance of 
things which remain substantially the same, and in the reality of things which 
are not markedly altered in appearance. 

In the first place the function of superintendence, which formerly seemed 
Inseparable from the quality or title of "capitalist" — in the same manner as 
the function of government was implied in a feudal title of nobility — becomes 
more distinct from it. The manufacturer and the merchant, in so far as they 
may be capitalists, become mere stockholders of the trust and receive profits 
in proportion to their holdings; but in so far as they may possess technical 
<lualifications for the conduct of production or the regulation and distribution 
of the product, they may become mere employees and receive salaries in pro- 
portion to their services. In other words, the unique property possessed by 
capital, of yielding an income to its owners without the necessity of any 
exertion whatever on their part, becomes constantly more evident as a number 
of comparatively small firms amalgamate into a corporation and as a number 
of corporations and large firms amalgamate into a trust. 

In the second place and as a consequence also of this growing separation 
between superintendence and ownership, the technical differences which di- 
vided the capitalists into various distinct, unrelated and sometimes confiictlng 
bodies according to the nature of the industries and services in which their 
•capital was engaged, gradually lose their power as a factor of division. These 
technical differences visibly subsist and even increase with the diversification 
of industry and the subdivision of labor, so that superintendence becomes more 
and more specialized. At the same time, however, the capitalist class, relieved 
of all work by its superintendents, emerges through the action of the trust 
from the condition of separate bodies owning distinct industries into one 
body owning Industry. This is important; let us speak concretely. 

No two industries can be more distinct, technically, than the making of 
biscuit and the making of matches. To the workers engaged in each and to 
the consumers of their products, the difference between them will, under any 
•circumstances of ownership that we may suppose, remain as great as it ever 
was. But for the financiers engaged in trustification both are "Industry," and 
their common purpose — their sole purpose — under capitalism is to yield pro- 
fits to capitalists, regardless of the different forms which capital must for 
that purpose assume in materials, machinery and product. Upon that basic 
principle one trust was founded for the control of those two branches of pro- 
duction. Likewise the Sugar Trust is aiming at the monopoly of the coffee 
trade. The financial magnates of the Standard Oil Co. are engaged with others 
in trustifying gas works, amalgamating trolley lines, consolidating railroads, 
etc., etc. The natural end of this movement — the end which it would neces- 
sarily attain if the Social Revolution did not abolish Capitalism before it 
had run its full course and substitute for it the Cooperative Commonwealth — 
would therefore be a "Trust of Tnists," a Capitalist Commonwealth. 

In the Capitalist Commonwealth the profits of capital would have been 
equalized by the antecedent process of trustification; for this .process, as we 
n6w see it, necessarily consists in capitalizing (1) the absorbed establishments 
of the same industry, and (2) the combined industries of various kinds on 
the basis of their respective profits. Each capitalist would therefore share in 
the profits of all industry in proportion to the amount of stock held by him 
in the "Trust of Trusts"; whereas in the Socialist Co-operatiye Commonw^AX^^ 



— 128 — 

each worker will share in the whole product of industry in proportion to the 
amount of labor which he will contribute to production. 

Threatened with extermination by the trust movement and unable to 
resist its advance by economic means, the middle-class has sought and is still 
seeking to arrest it by political means of the most inconsistent and ineffective 
sort; that is, by preventive legislation, forbidding the development of capi- 
talism while recognizing it as the "sacred" basis of our institutions. And 
thus we have the ludicrous spectacle of a class dying from competition, yet 
clamorous for its maintenance. 

Absurd and hopeless as its case may be, the middle-class has succeeded in 
enlisting the sympathy of a large number of working peoeple who do not yet 
perceive that this is a fight of the lean leeches against the fat ones for the 
blood of labor. That these poor people can thus be blinded and bamboozled,, 
is almost beyond comprehension when the following facts are considered. 

As regards the so-called ''prime necessaries of life," and many things also 
which are more or less appropriately termed "luxuries" because they are not 
usually within the reach of very small purses, a large majority of the con- 
sumers are persons whose income and consequent schedules of expenditures 
are nearly the same every year. Retail prices must therefore adjust them- 
selves to the purchasing power of those persons, and although they differ 
greatly from place to place and even from store to store in great cities, they 
are not apt to vary much at the same store from day to day or even from 
year to year for a more or less extended period, no matter what the fluc- 
tuations of the wholesale market may be during that period. In other words, 
knowing the extreme points between which the wholesale price of an article 
is usually oscillating and must continue to oscillate so long as the existing 
conditions of its production do not undergo a great change, each retail dealer 
makes his own selling prices as permanent and as high as he can, according 
to the means of his customers, their ignorance of the rates prevailing else- 
where, their dependence upon him for credit, and various other circumstances, 
special and local. He may even have and generally has several prices for 
the same article, the highest rates being charged to the poorest customers, 
who usually are the most misinformed and dependent.* 

Observe that we have here a striking illustration of the otherwise self- 
evident theory of Marx, that there can be no surplus value created by exchange, 
that is, by the mere act of buying and selling. Surplus value can only be 
produced by labor; it is the unpaid product of the wage- worker, who must 
sell, say for $1, a labor power that produces $4. To the full extent of the 
surplus value created by his labor the workingman has already been robbed 
before he comes to the store with his wages. But the robbery does not stop 
there. If we follow our man to the store and analyze his retail dealer, we 
find in the latter two moral persons entirely distinct, namely, the "honest" 
capitalist and the not less dishonest but more vulgar cheater. As a capitalist, 
in so far as his capital has somehow contributed to the capitalistic process 
of absorbing surplus value; in so far as his capital is engaged in the capitalistic 
operation of owning— or, as the phrase goes, of "carrying"— a stock of goods 
which the manufacturer or the wholesaler would otherwise have to carry, 
the retailer has already received or secured his share of surplus value. The 



* For further Inquiry into the facts here briefly stated, and kindred others of equal 
iuilM)rtanee. together with necessary explanations and comments, see our remarks under 
the heading. "Share o5 Labor In its Product." 



— 129 — 

goods which he carries have been sold to him at a discount which represents 
the remuneration of the capital engaged by him in carrying them. True, 
the actual value of these goods is increased by the labor of distribution, be 
this labor his own or that of his employees; and no one should grudge him 
that. Now, however, the "respectable" merchant appears as a cheater; by 
selling his goods above their actual value he furthermore robs the worker of 
a portion of the wages which under capitalism are the value of that worker's 
labor power. 

Bearing all this in mind we may now proceed. So long as on the one 
hand production remains in the competitive stage, and so long, as on the 
other hand the retail trade is not "spoiled" by competition, the retailing 
middle class is in clover. It can keep the wholesale prices below actual = 
values and thu^ exact a larger portion of the surplus value created by labor 
and appropriated by the capitalist class as a body. It can also maintain its , 
retail prices above actual values and thus in addition rob. the working class ; 
of a portion of its wages. 

But as on the one hand the trust develops, and as on the other hand . 
th9 department store goes on spreading, the tables are turned. 

In the first place the comparatively small capital at the command of ; 
the small dealers becomes an insignificant factor in the capitalistic operation . 
of "carrying" goods from production to consumption. It therefore ceases to 
entitle those dealers to a share in the surplus value, and the wholesale prices 
are so fixed that this share may now go to the trust. There is no possible 
compensation to them for this loss. Their retail prices are as high as their 
respective customers can pay. An increase of these prices would simply 
result, of necessity, in a decrease of consumption. 

In the second place the department store, by the large capital at its com- 
mand, is a capitalistic factor that the trust, for the time being at least, must 
take into account. Its advent is, in fact, a considerable dtep !n the general 
movement of trustification. It is not yet but is obviously destined to be a 
member, a limb, an organ of the various trusts — their common organ, jointly 
owned by them until it may finally be owned by the Trust of Trusts. In the 
meantime, as a capitalist carrier of goods and as a large employer of distrib- 
utive labor, rendered more effective, more intense and therefore less costly 
by its subdivision, it gets a share of surplus value commensurate with its 
importance and can well afford to reduce the retailers' margin of imposition 
Just enough to drive him out of the field. Of course it keeps that margin 
as wide as circumstances permit and to that extent continues the retail trade's 
extra process of robbing the workingman of a portion of his wages. 

It is, then, an indisputable fact that the small retailer is driven into . 
bankruptcy or out of business because he is too dear and cannot be cheaper. 
It is furthermore quite plain that his disappearance is not an economic evil ^ 
and should be regretted least of all by the poorer people. The only reasons 
of his continued existence as a class are simply, 1 — that there are still num- 
bers of persons of small means, who, unable to find other employment, must 
tempt fate in this most bankrupt-breeding of occupations (as shown elsewhere 
in our chapter on "Failures") ; 2 — that a large portion of the working popula- 
tion, having no time to spare for distant errands to department stores, having 
no money on hand for the purchase and no home conveniences for the storage 
of more than a day's supply, and otherwise suffering from the numberless 
disabilities consequent upon its wretched condition, is still perforce a prey to 



— 130 — 

that most contemptible of all the leeches which ever fastened upon its starved 
body. 

It is also a remarkable fact, the significance of which cannot be too strongly 
insisted upon, that among those who most strenuously endeavor to gain for 
the doomed and dying middle class the political support of its wage-working 
victims, are persons who by their position and interests belong body and 
soul to the plutocratic class. Of this hypocritical policy we have a glaring 
illustration in the attitude of the "yellow press," owned by notorious million- 
aires, whose special function among their fellow plutocrats is to "honestly, 
fearlessly, independently, vigilantly, patriotically, at any cost, early and late, 
first and last, tell the truth, expose the wrong and maintain the right," 
using for that noble purpose the pens of stipendiaries skilled in the art of 
befooling the people. 

The plutocracy is, indeed, fully aware of the steady growth and irrecon- 
cilable character of the workingmen's hostility to its rule. It realizes als6, 
that this hostility is the only strong bond that now unites the wage-working 
class and the middle-class, although the latter — ^as we have already explained 
— is constantly recruited from among workers driven out of employment, and 
is, therefore, by that fact, able to exert a powerful influence on the laboring 
masses. But it sees not less plainly that so long as those two classes remain 
united, it has nothing to fear, politically or economically, because the capitalist 
system will be maintained and its maintenance necessarily implies its develop- 
ment along its natural lines, despite all such artiflcial obstacles as anti-trust 
laws, silver agitation, etc. Should the working class, however, become so 
wise as to break away from the middle-class, the inevitable result would be 
a comprehensive movement against capitalism, an irresistible Socialist move- 
ment, in a word the early triumph of Socialism. 

Therefore, presuming upon the economic ignorance of the toiling masses 
and full of contempt for the economic impotence of the middle-class, the 
plutocracy itself, through its "yellow papers," attacks its own trusts, while 
defending them in its accredited organs. The people are cynically told in 
large yellow type of the enormous amount of wealth piled up by the trusti- 
fycrs. They are told also of .the exorbitant prices they pay for the necessaries 
of life and are artfully induced to infer that they would pay less if the retailers 
could get as much as before, when the prices were just as high and in some 
instances higher. The defense, of course, is abler than the attack and far 
more effective. It is not addressed to the people. Published only in the 
accredited organs of the plutocracy, it is seldom read by the "low and ignorant" 
classes. But it is especially effective where it needs most to be so; that is, in 
the committees of the National and State legislatures. There the representa- 
tives of the middle-classes are plainly told that their "game of bluff" is thor- 
oughly understood and duly appreciated; that there is for the sick middle- 
class no possible legislative remedy; that the form does not alter the substance 
of either competition or combination; that under any legislative form that 
may be devised capital will combine and by superior weight break down inferior 
competitors; and that the middle-class argument against combinations "in 
restraint of trade" and in favor of unrestricted competition is an obvious sham 
and false pretense, the actual object being to restrict competition by restrain^' 
ing combination; that the middle-class assertion, that the effect of capitalistic 
amalgamation is inevitably to increase the price of commodities to the con- 
sumers, is in theory a gross absurdity and in fact a downright falsehood, as 



— 131 — 

practically demonstrated in numberless instances, notably by the Standard 
Oil and the Sugar trusts in the case of two important necessaries; that, if 
other trusts, dealing in other necessaries, were hard-pushed by public 
pressure of a demagogical character, they would soon be able to give 
further practical evidence of the same sort, much to their sorrow and much 
more to the sorrow of the middle-class itself; that the coal barons, for instance, 
who were taken to task for raising their prices a quarter dollar, while the retail 
grocers, selling by the pail or the bushel, were skinning the poor man at the 
rate of $6 or $7 over and above the regular price per ton, could establish coal 
yards on their own account in all the great cities and bankrupt every man in 
the business while themselves raking in millions. But we are here to make 
money, to live and let live. All the trusts ask is to be allowed to live. The 
middle-class politicians, the Tammany demagogues and all such should live 
also, no matter how many middle-class men might go to their commercial 
grave. They, at least — the demagogues — do useful work. They keep the voting 
cattle in line for Capitalism. And since an anti-trust law is necessary to their 
existence, let one be passed, baptized "Anti-Trust" and capable of proper 
construction by the plutocratic courts. A trolley franchise, a "Huckleberry," 
something costing nothing to anybody, will make life tolerable and even 
pleasant to somebody. 

And trustification goes on. 



As already stated, there are few products, if any, for the control of which 
combines of some sort have not been formed. In the front rank of the com- 
modities most extensively trustified must be placed petroleum and copper, 
the production and distribution of which are entirely controlled throughout the 
world by international syndicates. Of some others, even more important in 
the order of production, the trustification is still purely national, but its effect 
is felt abroad, and in several the tendency to international combination is 
already well marked. Among these are iron and steel, timber, rubber, leather, 
agricultural implements, sewing machines, lead, etc.; also, leading foodstuffs, 
such as sugar (including glucose), fiour, meat, coffee, cotton seed oil, and 
various kinds of provisions, canned goods, etc. National also, but with an 
effect chiefiy confined, thus far, to the domestic market, are the pools, syndi- 
cates or trusts that more or less effectively control such articles as whiskey, 
beer, California wines, tobacco, matches, starch, biscuit, coal, brick and other 
building materials, window glass, plate glass, flint glass, china and stone wares, 
linseed oil, white lead, paints, paper, wall paper, tools, steel wire, barbed 
wire^ safes, horse-shoes, asphalt, jute goods, cordage and twine, type, type- 
writing machines, type-setting machines, playing cards, ammunition, etc. 
Lastly, there are many local pools, involving such necessaries as ice, milk, con- 
densed milk, etc. 

It is, however, in the services which are termed "public" because they 
are monopolies resting upon the grant of public franchises (national. State or 
municipal) to private corporations, that the largest combines are found. Of 
..this order are the railroads, canals, telegraphs, telephones, street railways, 
gas and water works, electric plants, etc.; the whole aggregating in 1890 a 
capital of about ten billion dollars ($10,000,000,000), or nearly one half of the 
estimated value of all the forms of wealth other than real estate. Upon the 
railroads are grafted the grain elevators and other facilities through which 



-- 132 — 

a large portion of the agricultural produce is controlled by powerful rings of 
speculators. 

Owing to the private and even absolutely secret character of many com- 
bines — such as pools, syndicates, "agreements between gentlemen," etc., — 
it is impossible to ascertain with any degree of accuracy their total number 
and the full extent of the capitalistic interests which they represent. Some, 
however, are so conspicuous that they cannot escape the public eye and that a 
fair knowledge of their component elements is easily obtained; while others 
have finally assumed the corporate form and their capital is a matter of record, 
although their operations are more or less enveloped in obscurity. Most of 
the latter are incorporated in New Jersey, which, at the time of the "anti-trust" 
wave, passed a special law granting asylum and citizenship to the trusts upon 
payment of a small annual tax on their capital. From this tax the State was 
expected to derive an income of about $800,000, which to that extent was in- 
tended to lighten the burden of her own resident capitalists. But it appears 
that after paying it more or less regularly for a few years, some at least 
of the concerns in question fell behind and are now trying to evade it. At 
any rate, there were in 1897, incorporated under that law, 4,495 companies — 
aggregating a capital of about $1,400,000,000 — nearly all of which were "trusts" 
in the now popular sense of the word; that is, having for their special object 
the monopoly of a certain product of industry, or of a certain public service, 
or of a certain valuable property (mine, real estate, water power, etc.), not 
only in this country but in other parts of the world. The following is a list 
of the most important of those corporations and includes a number of our 
most widely known and most powerful trusts: 

Principal Trusts Incorporated in New Jersey. 

Names. Capital. 

Acme Storage Battery and Manuf'g Co $5,000,000 

Allen Paper Car Wheel Co 1,260,000 

American Book Co. (school books trust) 5,000,000 

American Contracting Co , 1,600.000 

American Colophite Co 1,000,000 

American Cotton Oil Co 30,009,900 

American Cotton Press Co 1,000,000 

American Dock and Improvement Co 3,000,000 

American Olucose Co 1,342,600 

American Glue Co ; 1,700.000 

American Soda Fountain Co 3,750,000 

American Sugar Refining Co 73,936,000 

American Tobacco Co 29,835,000 

American Type Pounders' Co 9,000,000 

American Water Works and Guarantee Co 1.000,000 

Armour Packing Co. (Meat) 7,500,000 

Atlas Mining and Lumber Co 1,000,000 

Bay Stete Gas Co 4,500.000 

Book Typewriter Co 1,200.000 

Central Jersey Traction Co 1,000,000 

Cavanaugh Wrecking Co 2,000.000 

Chicago Junction Railways and Union Stock Yards Co 13,000,000 

Chino Valley Beet Sugar Co ^ 1,000,000 

Columbia Straw Paper Co 4,000,000 

Columbian Emery Wheel Co 6,000,000 

Compania Metallurgica Mexicana 3,434,100 

Consolidated Hemp Co 1,800.000 

Consolidated Traction Co..... 15,000.000 

Douglas Saw Mfg. Co 3,000,000 



Names. Capibd. 

Dnlutti Wt Co. 1^60,000 

DalDtll-Snparlor Traction Co £,000.000 

KMt Jersey WaWr Co S.OOO.OOO 

BaiBon Light and Power iMtallitloo Co 1,00,400 

BdlBOD Unltefl PhoDngraph Co 

Blectrlo Storaga Battery Co 18,500,000 

Elmln Municipal Improvement Co 

El Vadellita Mining Co 

EntefpriBe Mining Co 

Kimonfl International Traction Co 

Falrbuiki Co. (ecalel) 

Fairnnmnt P»rk Traneportation Co 

Ferrooarril Gran OeBle Meiloana 

QenBral AflTBrtlBlnB Co 

General Compreued Air Co 1,000,000 

Qoju Bmll MtDing and Tradlnl Co 3,000,000 

Hackennck Water Co 1.207.000 

H. B. ClttBln Co. Wry wodi) >,ooo,ooo 

Hetker- Jones- Jew ell Milling Co. (floor) 6,000.000 

Herring-HUl -Marvin Co. (lafet) S.SOO.OOO 

HDboken LauQ and Improvement Co 1,173.800 

Hoboken Ferir Co 900,000 

Hydraulic Brake Co 6,000.000 

International Development Co 1,000.000 

IntemaUonal Elevating Co £.200.000 

Invcatment Co. Ot New Jener 1.600.000 

John Oood Cordace and Hachlna Co T.OOO.OOO 

KDOtenay Mining and Smeltliw Co J,W)0,000 

ijh « Submarine Co 1,000,000 

Lake Superior CODHOlldaled Iron Mines 28.461.040 

Lamion ConioiWatoJ Store Sarvlce Co £.000,000 

Land and River Improvement Co 1.1S*,400 

ManneBmann Tube Co 10,000,000 

Manufacturing Investment Co i,!38,600 

Meehanlcal llubber Co 4,7».iKO 

Uersentbaler Linotype Co 6,000,000 

Mexican Int. Hotel ud Improvement Co. S.OOO.OOO 

Miiwaukae street Railway Co 5.000,000 

National Butter Co. 1.0SI.100 

Natioaal Clgaretts and Tobacco Co 11.500,000- 

Natioaal Cotton Oil Co 8,*»,100 

National Harrow Co 404.000 

NaUonal Heat and Power Co B.000.000 

NaUonal Lead Ca 20.SOO.400 

National Rice Mlllint Co SJ8T.000 

NathMial Storato Co i,«O.0OO 

National Tube Worke Co 11.600.000 

Newark Passenger Itatlway Co fl.OOO.OOO 

Newark & South Orange Hallway Co 1,600,000 

New Bedford It Falrhavon Traction Co 1,000,000 

New England Street Railway Co 1.0n,»« 

New Jeney Blectric Railway Co 2.28T.900 

New Jeraey Oeoeral Secnrity Co 2.000.000 

New Jersey Water Supply Co 1,000.000 

New Orleans Consoliaated Compress and Warehouse Co 8,600,000 

"Neviloa Traction Co 1,000,000 

New York Air Brake Co 2.098,000 

New York CondensBd Ullk Co 8,000,000 

New York FertlliiBr CO - £,000,000 

N. Y. t N. J. Ferry Co 1,000,000 

N. Y. ft N. J. Water Co 1.000.000 

N, Y. A Pblla, TracUon Co 10.000,000 

N. Y. Street CleaninK Mach. Co ViSftl**! 



COpttoL 
3.000,IMI> 



— 134 — 

N. T. A Teua Bteuuhip Co 

North Amerltmn Co. (Umber) '.!.!!'.!!".!"" 4aiM)IMW 

North 8haro Traction Oo tZC 

Ohio* Indiana Plpo Hoe Co lOOo'oOO 

Ohio Boyal Aic Co ■;.".■".':.'.■; aWoOO 

Old Born I nl on Copper Hlnlng and SmelUjig Co 3.TB0.0D0 



l.SEO.ODO 



riteraon Railway Co \[" 

Patorson, Paesalo & Rutberford R&tlway Co .".. m«00 

Patriotic Publishing Co '.'.'.'.'.'.".'. lOOOOOO 

Pecoe Co bWooO 

PoDD Electric Llgbt Co lOOOOOD 

PoDokee and Gogebic Consolidated Ulnei "'.'.'..'...'.'.,'. lo'ow^ooo 

People'! Light and Power Co 8,000000 

Phllaaelphia Cam ImproTemont Co I,00o!o00 

Proctor & GnmblB Co 4.600,000 

Railroaa Eijulpm^nt Co 1,600,000 

Reld Tobacco Maohlnory Co 1 000 000 

Rhode lalaod Perklm Horto Shoe Co 2750000 

Royal Are Elactrio Co., U. 8, A !!!!!!!!!!!!!! liooolooo 

Salt Lake & Ogdan Gag and Electrlo Light Co lisooloOO 

San Domingo Improvement Co lOOo'oOO 

Sharon Estate Co. fOOoloOO 

aoutheni Cotton HarroBter Co 1,2(10,000 

Southern Ootton Oil Co sioooiooo 

Spanlih-Ameiicui Abattoir Co lioooloOO 

Standard Coupler Co 1 MOIiOO 

Blandsrd Portland Cement Co 1,100,000 

Starling Light Co '..,| s]oOo!oOO 

Suburban TracUon Co 1,500,000 

Thome TypBBottlng Machlnfl Co 1,000,000 

Trenton Paaaenger Railway Co. (consolidated) 1,600.000 



Trow Directory 1,500,000 

Twin City Rapid Tranalt Co lEJ.45.ax> 

XlDlon Oil Co. 3,001,000 

Union Tank Line Co S,500.000 

TTnloD Typewrltor Co 18,015,000 

Dnlted SUtas Car Co S,S00,00O 

United Statea Cordage Co 33,950,8*0 

United States Leather Co lI4,4St,G0O 

United Slates Playing Card Co !,016.60O 

United States Rubber Co S9,S38,500 

United TracUon and Eleotrlo Co. o( New Jersey 8,000,000 

United White Lead and Oil Co 5.000,000 

Virginia-Carolina Chemical Co 4,7]2,a» 

VlrglDla. T>^nii«Esee and Carolina SUel and Iron Co 2,807,800 

White Hlvcr Water Power Co 1,600.000 

Woroester Traction Co 5,000,000 

Tellow Pine Co. 2,«T,I»00 

Other TrustB, Poola, Combines, etc. 
The following Is a list ol some of the most widelr known corporations 
having a ''trust'' 'ctiaracter and Incorporated In other States than New Jersey, 
and of some great pools, eyadicales, or aaaociatlons, which are known to exist 
but have not assumed the corporate form: 

AmerlcaD Bell TetepboDe Co *2«.01E,000 

Western Union Telegrapb Co »6,«O.0OO 

Standard Oil Co 07,500,000 

Trunk Line* Joint Trafflo Association 1,600,000,000 



— 135 — 



Westinghouse Electric MTg Co 8.500.000 

Whiskey Trust 28,000,000 

Beer pools (estimated) 100,000,000 

Malt trust (estimated) 15,000,000 

Copper International Syndicate (estimated) 50,000,000 

Steel Wire and Barbed Wire Trust 40,000,000 

Steel Rail Trust (estimated) 40,000,000 

Gas Trust (Chicago) 25.000,000 

Gas Trust (New York and Brooklyn) 50,000,000 

Carnegie Steel Co. 35,000,000 

Manhattan Railway (New York Elevated) 69,922,000 

Match Trust 11,000,000 

Biscuit Trust 10,000,000 

Flour Trusts (estimated) 60,000,000 

Window Glass Trust (estimated) 20,000,000 

Plat© Glass Trust (estimated) 10,000,000 

Potteries combine (estimated) 10,000,000 

Salt Trust (estimated) 8,000,000 

Paper Trust (estimated) 30,000.000 

Tinned Plate Trust (estimated) 10,000,000 

Ammunition, Powder and Ordnance Trust (estimated) 10,000,000 

Trinity Church (New York real estate) 150,000,000 



THE "WOBKICAN'S FABADISE." 

We frequently hear, on this side of the Pacific, of the great things ac- 
complished by the organized labor of Australia and New Zealand upon the 
lines of pure-and-simpledom. In this connection some official statements, taken 
from the fourth annual report of the Government Labor Bureau of New South 
Wales for the year ending February 17, 1896, may be deemed appropriate: 

"The number of unemployed registered at this bureau was 14,062 (or 487 
more than the previous year), of which 5,450 were married men with 11,755 
children depending on them. Single men registered numbered 8,612. The 
total number assisted and sent to work for the year amounted to 20,576, or 
4,196 more than the preceding year and 6, 514 more than the number registered 
during the period. This is mainly owing to the large number of passes to 
country places issued to applicants who have not been registered, in addition 
to those who have been registered during previous years. ♦ ♦ ♦ The aver- 
age daily attendance of unemployed during the greater portion of the year has 
been very large. Many months it averaged daily from 1,500 to 2,500. 

"The following table gives a comparative statement of the number of 
persons registered and assisted during each year of operation of the bureau: 

Persons registered and assisted, 1893 to 1896. 



Year, ending 
February 17— 



Persons 
registered. 



Persons assisted 

and sent to 

work. 



Increase. 



1893 
1894 
1895 
1896 



18,600 
12,145 
13,575 
14,062 



8,154 
10,349 
16,380 
20,576 



2,195 
6,031 
4,196 



Total 



58,382 



55,459 



Again, from the fifth annual report of the Department of Labor of New 
Zealand for the year ending March 31, 1896, it appears that since the organ- 
ization of the department in June, 1891, 15,739 men have been assisted, making 
with their dependents a total of 53,579 persons. 



FEMALE AND CHILD LABOR 



FEMALE liABOB. 



One of the chief features of Capitalism in the phase of development 
through which it is now passing, is the enormous increase of female wage labor 
and the growing diversity of the occupations in which such labor is exploited 
by the capitalist class. A fact of such ominous import to the social organism 
obviously suggests a special consideration of its original causes and natural 
consequences. 

In the early days of the factory system the employment of women as 
wage workers — ^leaving aside domestic service — was almost exclusively con- 
fined to the manufacture of textile fabrics; for the simple reason, (1) that 
this was the industry in which modern machinery made its earliest appear- 
ance, and (2) that the labor displaced by this initial revolution was chiefly 
female labor. Gradually, however, the employment of women extended to 
other industries in which machinery was also introduced. 

Nor did it stop there. From the revolution in the mode of production 
naturally issued a corresponding revolution in the mode of distribution; that 
is, in transportation and commerce, the channels of which had to be vastly 
enlarged and multiplied in order to widely distribute the product centralized 
by the factory system. Into these channels began to pour, slowly at first, then 
more and more rapidly, another portion of the female labor which had long 
been rendered superfiuous by the application of machinery to industries tradi- 
tionally carried on by women in their own houses. For, although a number 
of the "displaced" women were engaged in running this machinery, and al- 
though another number of them had found employment in other industries 
similarly transformed by mechanical appliances, the amount of surplus female 
labor resulting from the change in the mode of production was so great from 
the first that it has remained to this day practically inexhaustible. Fortuni^tely 
it did not come all at once upon the "labor market." The better cultivation 
of the land, in which the country woman — then a large majority of her sex — 
participated and to which she transferred a portion of the time previously 
employed in handiwork at the fireside; the growth and diversification of in- 
dustry consequent upon the development of communications and intercourse; 
the opening of new continents; the discovery of natural wealth previously 
unknown in its location and possible uses; in a word the good which science 
and invention did to mankind despite the capitalist system — or rather because^ 
that system, in its middle-class infancy, was not yet strong enough, organized 
enough, to withhold from the working people all the benefits of modern pro- 
gress — moderated for several generations, especialy in this country, the exodus 
of woman from the family circle to the capitalistic inferno. In the meantime 
she fitted herself to some extent for the inevitable struggle; the struggle 
already then forced upon many of her sex and steadily increasing in area and 
intensity; the struggle for existence between man and wife, brother and sister, 
father and daughter. As the threatening wave reached from the lower levels 
to the door of the middle-class, it found the woman of that class hot only 



— 137 — 

ready but anxious, from necessity, to cast herself into the torrent; ready to 
compete with man in almost every employment; not only at the counter, but 
at the desk, in the canvassing field, in all branches of commerce and, finally, 
in all professional pursuits. 

Of course the capitalist class applauded her brave performance; en- 
couraged it; facilitated it in every possible way of the dishonest and hypo- 
critical sort; called it with the sarcastic but convincing earnestness of Me- 
phistopheles ''the emancipation of woman''; aye, delegated a number of its 
own brightest fakirs to appear as the champions of her rights. For it could 
do no harm to promote in her a spirit of rebellion against the self-dissolving 
and slowly vanishing remnants of such a defunct system as feudalism; but 
the spirit of submission to her "betters" of both sexes, which she had imbibed 
under that system, should by all means be preserved to capitalism. Rather 
let the "grande dame" — the rich, the noble, the benevolent lady — by false 
words of sympathy and cheap deeds of charity, by gentle patting with the 
velvet-covered claws of the capitalist exploiter, develop in the proletarian 
woman a spirit of hostility to the man of her class; a feeling of contempt for 
the strong but helpless fellow, "improvident, lazy, good for nothing," who 
revels in enforced idleness or strikes against reductions of wages instead of 
amassing wealth. 



From what precedes it must be plain that the very first changes wrought 
out by machinery in the action of woman as an economic factor were of two 
distinct kinds. In the lines of production which had formerly been, from time 
immemorial, a part of her domestic functions — such as spinning, weaving, 
sewing, etc. — she became a factory operative, working for wages but com- 
peting only with persons of her own sex. In other branches — such, for instance, 
as shoemaking, metal working, etc. — now placed by machinery within the 
reach of her physical powers but previously reserved to man by the nature 
of the exertion required and by other conditions inherent in the old mode 
of production, she became also a factory operative, competing, however, not 
only with persons of her own sex but with male workers, whose labor had 
to be undersold in order to obtain employment. 

Observe that^n her case the transformation operated by modern machinery 
was much more fundamental, immediate and direct, economically and socially, 
than in the case of the artisan. When it happened to the latter that his tool 
was knocked out of his hand by the machine; when his complex skill was 
pulverized, as it were, even in its simplest components, by the subdivision 
of labor; and when no alternative was left him but to die of hunger or re- 
nounce all independence, all individuality, and become a mere human attach- 
ment to the machine, he was and had long been a producer of "exchange 
value," that is, of some special "commodity" for sale. It was, in fact, from 
his own tool that the machine had evolved; from his own class that the 
capitalist class had sprung; from the conditions created by his own activity 
that the capitalist system had emerged. To be sure, his economic value and 
social standing were greatly lowered by the machine that drove him from 
his own shop, where he had long been his own master and the sole bene- 
ficiary of his own work, to another man's factory where he must be until 
Doomsday or Revolution-day a mere wage worker, grinding out profits for the 
purchaser of his labor power. Yet his economic performance and social func- 



— 138 — 

Uon were not so absolutely altered as to retain no traces of their ante- 
cedent nature, since he continued to be a producer of "exchange value" in 
exactly <or almost exactly) the same form as before. 

Not so with woman, who was directly transferred from the home to the 
factory. From the home, where the portion of her time not absolutely re- 
quired for such so-called unproductive but necessary services as come under 
the head of "house-keeping" was employed in producing a variety of articles 
exclusively intended for her own family use. To the factory, where the whole 
of her time, now belonging to the purchaser of her labor power, must be 
applied to the production of some article of commerce. By her conversion into 
a wage worker her social function as a woman — i. e. as a wife, as a mother, 
in short as a family-being of fundamental import to the social structure — ^was 
entirely destroyed, at least for the period during which she must sell her life 
day by day. 

On the other hand, her economic performance, invisible or rather ignored 
outside of the family circle so long as she was in every sense a family beings 
becomes not only visible but strikingly important with her appearance on 
the "labor market." An enormous mass of production, which formerly passed 
directly from her industrious hands to the members of her family and in part 
also supplied her own needs, was not then reckoned in dollars and cents; it 
entirely escaped the attention of such statisticians or economists as there 
were in those days and even now is always lost sight of (ignorantly or pur- 
posely) in the comparisons that are made by capitalistic writers between the 
present and the past To-day this same kind and quantity of product is turned 
out in the factory and reaches its final destination after having passed in its- 
various stages, as a commodity for sale, through the hands of various capi- 
talists, who appropriate and divide among themselves the "surplus value"^ 
created by their wage workers. This particular product of the woman (or, 
to be more correct, of the being formerly a woman, now transformed into 
an operative) was the property of her family, destined to secure for a time 
and to the extent of its use value the comfort and independence of that family. 
Now it is capitalistic wealth in transit; perishable but self-reproductive with an 
increase or easily convertible into more durable forms and substances. It is, in 
short, destined to buy labor power and withheld from consumption until the 
laborer is uncomfortable and dependent enough to sell his po^er at a "reason- 
able" price. It is a part of the capitalistic production. It is reckoned in 
dollars and cents; its money value is recorded by the census taker and it 
appears in the census as an "increase of manufactures," to be heralded every- 
where as conclusive evidence of the "increasing prosperity of the wage work- 
ing people," who consume or are supposed to consume this "increased"^ 
product.* 

As a concrete case in illustration of the above general statement we may 
specify "women's clothing," which thirty years ago was still chiefly a home 
product but is now largely, though not yet to the same extent as "men's cloth- 
ing," a "sweat shop" manufacture. According to the census, the reported 



♦ These remarks, of course, apply also to every product which, formerly turned out 
by small artisans and other people, for their own consumption or for trade on a small 
scale, is now turned out in capitalistic establishments. A large portion of the reiM>rted; 
increase in the production of necessaries is imaginary; the real increase consists chiefly 
in things consumed or owned exclusively by the capitalist class. Concerning this important 
subject see our further remarks under the head of "Manufactures." 



— 139 — 

« 

value of this important item in 1870 was less than $13,000,000; an insignificant 
figure, considering that the female population of the country at that time was 
over 19,000,000 persons. But it rose to $125,000,000 in 1890, showing in twenty- 
years a nearly tenfold increase of product (wholesale value), as against an 
increase of only 60 per cent, in female population.* 

In other words, according to the census returns, the apparent production 
and consequently also the apparent consumption of women's clothing, per 
capita of female population, was only 70 cents in 1870, but $4.10 (or nearly 
six times as much) in 1890.** 

Are we, then, to believe that the average American woman spent on her 
personal attire six times as much in 1890 as in 1870? Obviously not; although 
a nuibrber of persons of the female sex, wifes and daughters of parvenus, have 
no doubt in the period under consideration increased a hundredfold, or per- 
chance a thousandfold, their expenditure of this kind. 

The fact is simply, as already stated, that a large portion of the women's 
clothing, which was made at home in 1870 and therefore not reported in the 
census of that year, was made in "manufacturing establishments" in 1890. 

And it had to be made there. Not because of greater cheapness, since 
the price of a factory-made garment includes, besides the materials, the wages 
of the worker and the exorbitant profits of the various capitalists (manu- 
facturer, merchant, landlord, etc.) whose capital is directly or indirectly en- 
gaged in the industry; whereas the woman who can make her own garments 
at home pays only for materials and does not count as an expenditure her 
own time, or even fuel, or light, or rent, or anything else otherwise needed 
anyhow in the family circle. But because fewer women (in proportion to the 
female population) could spare the time required; in other words, because of 
the considerable increase of female wage labor; this increase being especially 
enormous, and vastly out of proportion with the increase of population, in 
those city employments which impose upon the employees an expenditure for 
clothing far above the average of rural districts, where women's garments are 
still largely home made. 



With the above prefatory remarks we now submit a table showing the 
comparative number of women in occupations in 1870 and 1890; also the num- 
ber and percentage of increase in each occupation. The classification speaks 
for Itself. There are three leading groups, namely, I. Wage-Workers; II, 
Professional Pursuits; III. Capitalist and Middle Class. Group I. (Wage- 
Workers) is subdivided into four sections, as follows: 1. Manufacturing and 
Mechanical; 2. Trade and Transportation; 3. Domestic Service; 4. Miscel- 
laneous. Group III. (Capitalist and Middle Class) is divided into two sections, 
as follows: 1. Commercial Pursuits; 2. Agricultural. For the general purpose 
in view Group II. (Professional Pursuits) requires no subdivision. Despite 
the comprehensiveness of this arrangement of the census returns, special atten- 
tion is called to the observations that follow the table, inasmuch as they may 
serve their intended object of preventing erroneous conclusions. 



* For further particulars see elsewhere the Statistics of the Clothing Industry. 

^ We hope that this paragraph will not be quoted by careless or dishonest persons 
without referring to the subsequent comments, that show the absurdity of the conclusions 
to which the census figures might otherwise mislead the unwary. 



NumbOT of Womeii In Occupatlona, 1870 and 1890; Also, Number and 
Pet cent, of Increase fxom 1870 to 1800. 



GROUP I.— WAGE WOItKHRS. 

1. ManutacturinB & mechanical trades; 

Clothing makers 

Food preparere 

Leather workers 

Metai workers 

Mine and quarry workers 

Prlntera, engravers, bookbinders, etc 

Textile workerB 

Tobacco workers 

Wood workers 

Other mechanical and manufacturing 

Total 

2. Trade and transportation:— 
Agents, collectors, commercial trav 

elers, etc 

Bookkeepers, clerka, sales women, etc 

Messengers, packers, etc 

Steam-railroad employees 

Total 

3. Domestic service:— 

Servants 

Farm servants 

Laborers, (not specified) 

Total 

4. Miscellaneous: — 

Fishing and seafaring 

All others 

Total 

Grand total Group I 

GROUP IL— PROFESSIONAL PUR- 
SUITS. 
Teachers, artists, doctors, lawyers, etc. 
GROUP III.— CAPITALIST AND 
MIDDLE CLASS, 

1. Commercial puraultB — 
Bankers, brokers, manufacturers, etc 
Merchants and dealers 

Total 

2. Agricultural:- 

Farmers, planters, etc 

• Grand total Qroiip HI 







■■■™r..'5r '™ 






Humber. 


ferc. 


197,970 


604,257 


406,287 


202.6 


2,234 


9.664 


7,430 


332.6 


9,418 


34,769 


26,351 


269.1 


4,886 


15,329 


10,443 


213.T 


18 


319 


301 


1672.2 


3,912 


23,461 


19,549 


499.7 


90,834 


208.216 


117,382 


129.2 


3,458 


26,853 


22,395 


647.6 


1,614 


7,554 


5,940 


36S.O 


14,969 


65,766 


60,797 


339.3 


329,313 


995.188 


665,875 




140 


5,466 


5,326 


3S04.3 


10,335 


178,204 


167,869 


1624.S 


385 


8,156 


7.871 


2761.7 


62 


1,412 


1,350 


2048.4 


10,822 


193,238 




1685.6 


SS3,361 


1,490,664 


637,303 


74.6 


300.831 


366,294 


65,463 


21.7 


18,677 


50,321 


31,644 


169.4 


1,172,869 


1,907.279 


"lauiQ- 


—6276 


63 


304 


241 


38a.G 


2,642 


6,597 


3,955 


149.7 


2,705 


6,901 


4.196 


155.1 


TTeffCTfiS-] 






104.7 


91,914 


311.241 


219.327 


238.e 


284 


1,141 


857 


3M.7 


14.321 


68.316 


53,996 


3n.o 


14.G05 


69,457 


54,862 376.E 


22.960 


228,840 


206,880 896.6 


37.se6 




-^eis;r32- «!« 



— 141 — 



Occupations. 


1870. 
• 

1,515,709 
91,914 
37,565 


1890. 

3,102,606 
311,241 
298,297 


Increase from 1870 
to 1890 


Number. 


Pero. 


RECAPITULATION. 
GrouD I. — Wage workers 


1,586,897 
219,327 
260,732 


104.f 


Group II. — Professional pursuits 

Group III.— Capitalist and middle class 


238.e 
694.1 


Grand total of women in occupations 


1,645,188 


3,712,144 2,066,956 125.6 



In commenting on the above table we may properly begin with the last 
group (Capitalist and Middle Class), the figures of which, and especially the 
percentage of increase, may be misleading. That the number of enterprising 
women engaged in commerce and finance on their own account should have 
largely increased from 1870 to 1890 can readily be understood. It is a notorious 
fact that numbers of men who fail in business resume operations for a more 
or less extended period of time under the name of their wives. The steady 
increase of failures during the twenty years under review would therefore 
of itself account for a large portion of the apparent growth of female enter- 
prise which the census figures indicate. Nevertheless, a part of the reported 
increase under the head of "Commercial Pursuits" is no doubt genuine; and 
it may safely be added that most of the women reported as "dealers," although 
necessarily included here in the middle-class, are small shopkeepers, with 
hardly any capital and actually belonging to the proletariat. But it cannot be 
so easily understood why the number of women farmers should have' increased '■ 
nearly tenfold while the number of men farmers increased only 71 per cent. 
Observe also that three quarters of this particular female increase was in 
the ten years 1880 — 1890, during which the growth of the total number of 
farmers and of the agricultural population generally, was considerably less 
than it had ever been. There is certainly no reason to suppose that a large 
number of women are developing an unprecedented taste, aptitude, or enter- 
prise for agriculture at a time when machinery is driving away from the land 
not only the longest-bearded farmers but their equally competent wives and 
daughters. Nor is there any reason to believe that the proportion of widows 
in agriculture has increased at a rate unparalleled in the records of vital 
statistics. The only sensible explanation that occurs to us is that many farmers' 
wives, who were reported without occupation in 1870, were reported as farmers 
in 1890. 

Turning back to Group I. (Wage Workers), we find for the whole of it 
an average Increase of about 105 per cent., which is high as compared with- 
the 60 per cent, increase in female population, yet considerably lower than 
the average per cent, increase of 238 in Group II. and 694 in Group III. This 
group, however, is by far the largest, comprising as it does more than five- 
sixths of the total number of women in occupations, while its numerical in- 
crease was 1,586,000 as against only 422,000 for the two other groups taken 
together. Moreover, when we consider separately (1) its subdivisions and (2) 
the occupations in each subdivision, we find a wide range of percentages of 
increase, which most suggestively reflects the disconnected progress of the 
various industries and the consequently chaotic distribution of emplosrments 
under capitalism. We find, for instance, that these percentages vary from 



— 142 — 

62 per cent, for subdivision 3 (domestic service), to 202 for subdivision 1 (manu- 
factures), and 1,685 for subdivision 2 (trade and transportation). Again- 
leaving aside as an insignificant quantity the number of women employed in 
mines and quarries— we find that in the subdivision of manufactures the per- 
centages range from 129 in textiles to 647 in tobacco. 

There are also in the wage-workers* group two features more remarkable 
and significant than any other. 

One is the fact that the percentage of increase in the number of women 
employed in domestic service not only is the lowest in the whole list of occu- 
pations, but does not sensibly surpass the 60 per cent, increase of female popu- 
lation, and is even as low as 22 in the case of farm servants (denominated as 
"agricultural laborers" in the census). And this fact derives additional im- 
portance from the further statement that while the rate of increase in 
domestic service had been very great for every decade until 1880, it was 
very small and fell considerably below that of the population from 1880 to 
1890, which was the most prosperous period in the history of American capi- 
talism, but at the same time a period of unprecedented concentration. Tet 
there is nothing puzzling in this phenomenon, remarkable as it is. Its ex- 
planation is quite simple and easy. With the decline of the middle-class con- 
sequent upon the centralization of capital the degrading avenue of employ- 
ment in domestic service became proportionately narrower. 

The other notable feature is the stupendous increase of women wage 
workers in trade and transportation already referred to above. There is 
evidently no limit to the possible substitution of female for male labor in such 
occupations as bookkeepers, clerks, store attendants, agents, commercial 
travelers, messengers, packers, etc.; and the time is obviously coming when 
all soft-handed men who are not "brainy" enough to live by robbing their 
homy-handed fellows will of necessity cease to exist. 



CHILD LABOB. 



Flagrant Inaccuracy of the Census Betums — 11,000,000 Children of School 

Age Out of School; Where are theyP 

By the last census it is made to appear that the number of children em- 
ployed in "gainful occupations" decreased largely from 1880 to 1890. Accord- 
ing to the classification adopted by the Department of Labor (Bulletin 11, 
July, 1897), which differs somewhat from that of the census but does not affect 
the totals, the figures are as follows: 



In agriculture 

In fisheries, seafaring, etc. 
In mining and quarrying . 
In professional services . . . 

In domestic service 

In transportation 



1880. 


1890. 


Increase. 


Decrease 


721,029 


328,115 


392,914 


1,776 


1,115 




661 


12,488 


11,101 




1,387 


924 


908 




16 


120,644 


90,584 




30,060 


3,519 


5,130 


1,611 





-- 143 — 



In manufacturing and mechanical 
industries 

In trade (messengers, porters, 
clerks, etc.) 

Laborers (not specified) and all 
others 



Total 

Apparent net decrease 



1880. 

120,255 

32,832 

104,889 



1890. 

90,664 
37,774 
37,622 



Inoreaie. 



4,942 



1,118,356 I 603,013 | 6,553 



DeoreaM 



29,591 



67^67 



521,896 
515,343 



Upon investigation it is readily found that these figures are grossly in- 
correct; so much so, indeed, as to induce the suspicion that their inaccuracy 
was not altogether the accidental result of carelessness or inefficiency in the 
primary and fundamental work of enumeration. 

In the first place, the comparison of 1880 with 1890 is radically vitiated by 
a most important difference in age classification. In 1880 the period of age 
for the persons enumerated as "Children at work" was from 10 to 15, 
whereas In 1890 the period was only from 10 to 14 years, leaving out the 
year in which the largest number of children enter "gainful occupations/' or 
wage slavery. 

For the purpose of making a comparison possible, a writer in the above 
mentioned Bulletin 11 of the Department of Labor (July, 1897), without 
otherwise disputing the census returns so far as they go, assumes that 20 
per cent, of the 1,288,864 children 15 years old in 1890, or 257,773, were at 
work. Adding these to the 603,013 reported as workers from 10 to 14 years 
of age, his result is a total of 860,786, which apparently shows for the ten 
years 1880—1890 a reduction of 257,570 (instead of 515,343), in the number 
of workers from 10 to 15 years old. "This number," he says, "without doubt" 
approximates "very closely" the actual conditions. Then, evidently well 
pleased to find that his own correction still leaves some room for Just such 
conclusions as the census would naturally suggest to the unwary, he further 
observes: "Since 1880 there has been a considerable diminution in the num- 
ber and proportion of children at work, illustrating the spread of the com- 
mon school system and the growth of public sentiment against the employ- 
ment of children of school age in any capacity which tends to deprive them 
of the opportunity to acquire an education." 

Of course it is absurd to say, as the Labor Department does through 
this writer, that the census figures concerning child labor "illustrate" In 
any way the school system. What might be true to some extent would be 
the Inverse statement, that the school system — or rather the school atten- 
dance — corroborated or failed to corroborate the census figures of child labor. 
A failure to corroborate would at least be prima facie evidence of the in- 
correctness of those figures: for the reason, among others, that the statistics 
of school attendance are carefully and systematically collected by an in- 
telligent corps of teachers, who have at hand the most direct, positive and 
complete data that it is possible to obtain concerning the children at school, 
and therefore not at work during the school term; whereas the census 
statistics of child labor are in most instances collected by untrained enume- 



— 144 — 

rators, who moreover depend for their information upon the careless and 
unverified statements made to them by all sorts of people. 

Now, had the writer in question looked into the statistics of the school 
system for evidences of its own growth he would have had a very different 
kind of "illustration." He would have found, for instance, that in the great 
manufacturing States which compose the North Atlantic group — comprising 
New York, Pennsylvania, New Jersey and the whole of New Elngland — ^the 
proportion of school attendance to school population (that is, to the number 
of children between the ages of 5 to 17 Inclusive), fell from 47 per cent, in 
1880 to 46 per cent, in 1890, and that in the large cities it fell at a 
much higher rate. These are notoriously the States in which capi- 
talism "consumes" the largest proportion of that quantity of child labor which 
comes under the head of "wage workers." Again, he would have found that 
the reported increase of school attendance was in the Southern States, where 
the average school term is only about 90 days, and in the Western States, 
where agriculture is still, as in the South, the leading pursuit of the popu- 
lation; which no doubt accounts for the fact that four-fifths of the reported 
decrease of child labor is in agriculture, although the apparent falling oft in 
this particular pursuit is itself a mere fiction, for it is a notorious fact that 
many of the country children who attend school in winter time are em- 
ployed in the fields during the remainder of the year, yet are not counted 
as "workers" when they work, as most of them do, for their own parents. 

By these vague words, "the growth of public sentiment against the em- 
ployment of children of school age," is no doubt meant the supposed efficacy 
of the so-called "factory laws" which in various States were passed from 
1880 to 1890. Tet it must be well known at the Department of Labor that 
these laws, even where they are enforced to any extent, do not in the least 
prevent such employment but simply divert it from manufacturing into com- 
mercial establishments. Moreover, in the very light of its own figures, for 
Which it boldly claims the merit of "very close approximation," the De- 
partment cannot honestly or intelligently assert that "there has been a con- 
siderable diminution in the employment of child labor" in manufacturing and 
mechanical establishments, since by accepting and taking into account the 
Department's proportion of children from 14 to 15 years old the already 
small diminution of 29,000 given by the census of 1890 as compared with the 
census of 1880 would be cut down to one half of that number. 

It may also be observed that in the above table the reported decrease in 
the large number of children sweepingly classed under the vague heading of 
"Laborers, not specified," is 67,000, or over 64 per cent. If the vast and grow- 
ing army of "bootblacks" and "newsboys" is included under this head, no 
such decrease can have taken place; if it is not included an important omis- 
sion has been made. On the other hand, considering what we daily see of 
the growing employment of small children in all commercial establishments, 
and especially in "department stores," the reported increase of 4,900 under 
the head of "Trade" (even if corrected by the addition of a proportionate 
number of children between 14 and 15 years old) is on its face ridiculously 
small. 

That the two last censuses are entirely unreliable in this matter of child 
labor, is furthermore shown by the stupendous discrepancies between the 
tables of manufactures and the tables of occupations. In the first, which 
are made up of figures supplied by the manufacturers themselves, that is, 



—145 — 

by persons interested in understating the amount of child labor in their ser- 
vice, the number of children employed is 182,000 for 1880 and 121,000 for 1890; 
whereas in the second, which are made up of data loosely collected by the 
enumerators, the number (according to the classification of the Department 
of Labor) is 120,000 for 1880 and 90,000 for 1890. True, it may be observed 
in extenuation of those discrepancies that the age periods in the two sets of 
tables do not exactly correspond; but it may again be replied that they are 
by that fact rendered the more worthless for comparison and conclusion. 

There is, indeed, good ground for the prevailing suspicion that the object 
of such census work, conducted by men sufficiently versed in arithmetic to 
know what should be done in order to obtain comprehensive and compre- 
hensible results, is only to hide the truth and confuse the public mind. 

But there stands glaring above all this statistical darkness the portentous 
"'and undeniable fact, that with a total school population between 5 and 18 
years, numbering 20,865,000 in 1896, the average school attendance was only 
9,747,000, or 46.7 per cent., and that the average school term for the whole 
country was only 140 days. From which it may safely be asserted that igno- 
rance is growing apace throughout the United States and that the number 
of children and youths between the said ages, actually employed for a more 
or less extended portion of the year in mean, hard and brain-stunting labor 
cannot be less and is probably more than 5,000,000. 



WOMEN WAGE-WORKERS AND MATRIMONY. 

According to a report of the Department of Statistics of Indiana for 1894, 
of 500 women employed in various mills, factories, shops and stores of In- 
dianapolis, ranging in age from 19^ to 32^ years, 27 were married, 24 were 
widows and 449 were single. 




AGRICULTURE. 



Census 
Year. 



THE FABHS OF THE UNITED STATES 
in 1850, 1860, 1870, 1880 and 1890. 

[From the U. S. Census Reports.] 



Total 
number 

of 
farms. 



oo 00 

5» 



Acres in Farms. 



Total. 



Improved. 



Unimproved. 



Is 



Nwnber of 

farmers, 

planers 

and 

overseers. 



1890 
1880 
1870 
1860 
1850 



4,564,641 
4,008,907 
2,659,985 
2,044,077 
1,449,073 



J 



137 
134 
153 
199 
203 



623,218,619 
536,081,835 
407,735,041 
407,212,538 
293,560,614 



357,616,755 
284,771,042 
188,921,099 
163,110,720 
113,032,614 



265,601,864 


42.62 


251,310,793 


46.88 


218,813,942 


53.67 


244,101,818 


59.94 


180,528,000 


61.50 



5^81,557 
4,229,051 
2,981,820 
2,509,456 



VALUATIONS. 



Census 
Tear. 


Total value of 
farms. 


Land, fences and 
buildings. 


Implements & 
machinery. 


Live stock on 
hand June 1. 


Estimated value 
of products. 


1890 
1880 
1870 
1860 
1850 


$15,982,267,689 

12,104,001,538 

11,124,958,747 

7,980,493,063 

3,967,343,580 


$13,279,252,649 

10,197,096,776 

9,262,803,861 

6,645,045,007 

3,271,575,426 


$494,247,467 
406,520,055 
336,878,429 
246,118,141 
151,587,638 


$2,208,767,573 

1,600,384,707 

1,625,276,457 

1,089,329,915 

544,180,516 


$2,460,107,454 
2,212,540,927 
2,447,538,658 
1,676,724,972 







Agricultural Increase Compared with Increase of Population 

from 1880 to 1890. 



1890 



1880 



Increase. 



Population 

Number of farms 

Totland in farms (acres) 
Improved land (acres) .. 
Unimproved land (acres) 
Total value of farms . . . 
Land, fences, buildings 
Implements & Machinery 

Live stock 

Value of products 



62,622,250 

4,564,641 

623,218,619 

357,616,755 

265,601,864 

$15,982,267,689 

$13,279,252,649 

$494,247,467 

$2,208,767,573 

$2,460,107,454 



50,155,783 

4,008,907 

636,081,835 

284,771,042 

251,310,793 

$12,104,001,539 

$10,197,096,776 

$406,520,055 

$1,500,384,707 

$2,212,540,927 



12,466,467 

555,734 

87,136,784 

72,845,713 

14,291,071 

$3,878,266,151 

$3,082,155,873 

$87,727,412 

$708,382,866 

$247,666,527 



24.85 % 

13.86 % 
16.26 % 
26.52% 

6.68% 
82.40% 
80.32 % 
21.68% 
47.21% 
11.19% 



— 147 — 

Number of Farms Classified According to Acreage 

in 1880 and 1890. 



Year. 



Total. 



CO 



PS 






o 
to 

a o 



8 



SI 






f'd 



§ 



•d 



1890 
1880 



4,564,641 
4,008,907 



150,194 
139,241 



265,550 
254,749 



I 



902,777 
781,574 



1,121,485 
1,032,810 



2,008,694 
1,695,983 



84,395 
75,972 



I 



31,546 

28.578 



Increase 555,734 10,953 10,801 121,203 88,675 312,711 8,423 2,968 



The foregoing census classification of farms according to their size is in- 
sufficient and otherwise very defective. In the first place, throughout the great 
farming districts of this country the land is divided into sections of one 
square mile, or 640 acres, which in turn are subdivided into half-sections, 
quarternsections, etc., respectively containing 320 acres, 160 acres, 80 acres and 
40 acres. The classification of farms above 20 acres, in order to correspond to 
the existing conditions, should therefore be as follows: From 20 to 40; from 40 
to 80; from 80 to 160; from 160 to 320; from 320 to 640, etc. Within these 
classes would fall the farms of intermediary sizes, chiefiy located in the 
Eastern States. Instead of the one great class from 100 to 500 acres, which is 
given in the census, and which comprises under one head people differing 
greatly in property and means of production, there would be three classes, each 
comprising people of substantially the same productive power. In the second 
place, the total area covered by each class. should be given; for, in the absencei 
of this all-important datum, it is impossible to accurately calculate the pro- 
portions in which the farm land of the country is divided among the various 
classes of farmers. Upon the figures supplied by the census, and by carefully 
considering all other available data, we have, however, arrived at the follow- 
ing result, which we believe to be as approximately correct as possible, the 
number of farms being, of course, absolutely the same as in the census for 
each class of farms, and the total area obtained with our estimate of the aver- 
age ^ze of farms of each class being so nearly the same as the census figures 
for both 1880 and 1890 that the small difference is practically of no account. 



Proportions in which the Farming Land was Divided 
into Farms in 1880 and 1890. 



« 


Estimated 
Average. 


1880. 


1890. 


Class of farms 
in acres. 


Number 
of farms. 


Total 
area. 


Numbf^r 
of farms. 


Total 
area. 


Under 10 


5 acres 
15 acres 
40 acres 
80 acres 


139,241 

254,749 

781,574 

1,032,810 


696,206 

3,821,235 

81,262,960 

82,624,800 


150,194 

265,550 

902,777 

1,121,485 


750,970 


10 and under 20 .... 
20 and under 50 .... 
50 and under 100 ... 


8,983,250 
36,111,080 
89,718,800 



Total under 100 



2,208,374 I 118,405,200 | 2,440,006 | 130,564,100 



— 148 — 





1 


1880. 


1890. 


Class of farms • Estimated 
in acres. Average. 


Number 
of farms. 


Total 
area. 


Number 
of farms. 


Total 
area. 


100 and under 500 . . 
500 and under 1,000 
1,000 and over .... 


200 aeres 

600 acres 

1,200 acres 


1,695,983 
75,972 
28,578 


339,196,600 
45,583,200 
34,293,600 


2,008,694 
84,395 
31,546 


401,738,800 
50,637,000 
37,855,200 



Total 100 and over 


1.800,533 419,073,400 2,124,635 


490.231.000 






Grand total 


4,408,907 537,478,600 4,564,641 


620,795,100 


Census total of area 


536.081.835 


623,218,619 







From the above figures we derive the following table, which already shows 
— though not fully, as we shall presently see — the tendency to concentration in 
agriculture: 





Number of fai*m8. 


Total area of farms. 




under 100 acres 


over 100 acres 


under 100 acres 


over >0D acres 


1890 


2,440,006 
2,208,374 


2,124,635 
1,800,533 


130,564,100 
118,405,200 


490,231,000 
419,073,400 


1880 




Increase 


241,632 
10.9 % 


324,102 
18 % 


12,158,900 
10.2 % 


71,157,600 
16 % 


Proportions of Increase . . 



From the above tables it also appears that in 1890 the number of farms 
under 100 acres (2,440,006) represented 53.45 per cent of the total number of 
farms, but only 21.34 per cent, of the total land in farms; whereas the number 
of farms over 100 acres (2,124,635) represented only 46.55 of the total number of 
farms, but covered 78.66 per cent, of the total farm area. In other words, 
more than one-half of the farmers occupied together ahout one-fifth of the soiU 
while less than one-half occupied four-fifths. 



CAPITALIST CONCENTRATION IN AGBICULTTTBE. 

The first inquiry into the tenure of land in this country was made in 1880. 
It disclosed the fact that of the 4.008,907 farms and plantations reported in 
that year, 1,024,601 — or over 25 per cent. — were cultivated by tenants. It was 
at the same time shown by the table of occupations that of the 7,670,493 per- 
sons reported as engaged in agriculture 3,323,876 were "agricultural laborers," 
while a large portion of the 1,859,223 persons reported simply as 'laborers" 
under the head of "professional and personal services" were also, according 
to a foot-note in the census, "agricultural laborers." From these two facts it 
therefore appeared, in flat contradiction of all previous notions concerning 
the independence of our agricultural population, that in 1880 about 5 persona 
in 8 were not the owners of the land which they cultivated. Nevertheless, the 
false impression that the land was not undergoing the same process of con- 
centration that was already then noticeable in all the other means of pro- 
duction, not only continued to prevail but was reinforced by the remarkable 
statement of Prof. Walker, Superintendent of the Censuses of 1870 and 1880, 
namely, (1) that the "average size of farms," including improved and unim- 
proved lands, had been steadily decreasing from 199 acres in 1860 to 153 in 



— 149 — 

1870, and 134 in 1880; and (2) that the "average area of improved land in 
farms" — meaning thereby, if it meant anything, the average number of acres 
of improved land held by one person as owner or tenant — had decreased from 
80 acres in 1860 to 71 acres in 1880. 

In an exhaustive analysis of the census figures, made by L. Sanial, and 
published in the Tenth Report of the New York Bureau of Labor Statistics 
(1893), it was shown that the "averages" of Prof. Walker were arithmetical 
fictions, produced by entirely ignoring the conditions under which 900,000 
"new farms" had been created in the Southern States after the abolition of 
slavery. As regards these States and these "new farms," it was shown that 
the enfraiichised slaves had been converted into three olasses: One class 
numbered about 600,000 "tenants," who cultivated "on shares" a portion of 
the land owned by their former masters. The second class was composed of 
about 300,000 "farm owners," whose holdings as such, however, were very 
small, chiefly ranging from 3 to 25 acres. As to the third one, numbering at 
least 2,200,000, it was entirely composed of "agricultural laborers," working for 
wages. Leaving aside this new tenantry and this new proprietary, formidable 
numerically but insignificant economically and created under the abnormal 
conditions brought about by the abolition of chattel slavery, it was found that 
both in the South and in the North the real average quantity of "improved 
land" held by one person as owner (which is from a true economic standpoint 
the actual "average" size of farms) had actually — ^and contrary to Prof. Walker's 
misstatement — increased instead of decreased. In the South it increased only 
4 per cent, from 1860 to 1880, but in the North and West, where no great polit- 
ical or social revolution interfered with the economic development, it increased 
nearly 36 per cent during the same period. 

By the same analysis it was shown that in the New England States, from 
1860 to 1880, the number of farmers decreased 23,000, but the number of farm 
laborers increased 24,000, the decrease on one side and the increase on the 
other being nearly equal, so that every farmer that disappeared was replaced 
by a farm laborer. In the meantime, however, the "improved land" increased 
922,000 acres; and this gives us some idea of the addition made to the "effic- 
iency of labor" by agricultural machinery, even on the rocky soil of New 
England, where such machinery cannot be used to the same extent as in more 
favored regions. 

Likewise (or still worse) in New York State, the number of farmers de- 
creased 13,300, but the number of farm laborers increased only 10,000, while 
the area of improved land increased 3,360,000 acres, or about 23 per cent. Nor 
was this all; we quote: 

"The number of farms under 10 acres— the 'poverty farms,' upon which 
here and there one among many a country mechanic and agricultural laborer 
has built or inherited a shanty, keeps a cow and raises some vegetables — ^in- 
crease4 1,835 in New York State, while the farms of more than 500 acres, the 
bonanafb farms- of this State, increased 1,351. On the other hand, the number 
of farms ranging from 10 to less than 100 acres, that require a fair agricultural 
equipment to eke out of the soil a scanty living by the hard personal labor of 
the owners and their families, decreased 18,706; while those ranging from 100 
to 500 acres, worked chiefly by wage labor, with costly machinery, adequate 
live stock, extensive accommodations and ready cash, increased 40,325." It is 
quite evident that Prof. Walker's method of 'averaging with a vengeance' pro- 
duces results the very reverse of actual facts. 



— 150 — 



((1 



Pennsylvania, with, an increase of 3,000,000 acres in improved land, 
showed an increase of only 14,000 farmers as against 31,000 farm laborers. 
Ohio, with an increase of 5,500,000 acres to its cultivated area, showed an 
increase of 38,000 farmers as against 55,000 farm laborers. In brief, every 
State in the North Atlantic, Northern Central and Western groups, shows the 
same tendency, either to an actual decrease in the number of farmers, or to an 
increase of much less proportion than the area improved; but in all cases a 
tendency to a disproportionate increase in the number of agricultural laborers 
as compared with the number of farmers.'' 

The further progress of capitalistic concentration in Agriculture from 
1880 to 1890 is shown to some extent and in various ways by the foregoing 
tables. It has been so great during this period that although the Walker 
method of "averaging with a vengeance" was continued in the census of 1890, 
the general "average size of farms," arrived at in simply dividing the total farm 
area by the total number of farms, shows an increase (from 134 to 137 acres) 
for the first time in the history of the country. In so far as one of the effects 
of concentration, at the present stage of development reached by capitalistic 
agriculture, is the growth of that kind of sweating system which is termed 
"Tenantry," the following table is highly instructive: 



NTTMBEB AND SIZE OE FARMS ACCOBDING TO TEKTTBE 

in 1880 and 1890. 





1880. \ 1890. 




6& 


Held by Tenants. 


0;a 


Held by Tenants. 


Size of farms. 


1 ^ 
flog 






Hog 


-d 


52 2 


Under 10 acres 


88.057 
122,411 
460.486 
804,522 


23,779 
41,522 
97,399 
69,663 


27,405 


51,184 


98,990 
132,970 
505,313 
840,178 


26,181 

46,921 

137,709 

100,613 


25,023 

85,659 

259,756 

180,694 


51,204 


10 and under 20 acres 

20 and under 50 a6res 

50 and under 100 acres 


90,816 
223,689 
158,625 


132,338 
321,088 
228,288 


132.680 
397.464 
281,307 


Total under 100 acres.. 


1,475.476 


232.363 


500,535 


732,898 1,577,451 


311,424 


551,131 


862,565 


100 and under 500 acres.... 
500 and under 1,000 acres.. 
1,000 acres and over 


1,416,618 
66.447 
25,765 


84.645 
3,956 
1,393 


194,720 
5,569 
1,420 


279,365 
9,525 
2,813 


1,594,641 
70,911 
26,725 


135,748 
5,216 
2,271 


278,305 
8,268 
2,550 


414,063 

13,484 

4,821 


Total over 100 acres 


1.508.830 89,994 201.709 291.703 1.692,277 143,235 289.123 | 432,358 


Grand total 2,984,306 322,357 702.244 1,024.601 3,269,728 454.659 840,254 1 1,294,913 



From the above table it appears: 

1 — That of the total number of farms, 25.5 per cent, in 1880, and 28.4 per 
cent, in 1890, were held by tenants. 

2 — ^That of the total number of farms under 100 acres, 33.1 per cent. In 
1880, and 35.3 per cent, in 1890, were held by tenants. 

3 — That of the total number of farms over 100 acres, 16.2 per cent, in 1880, 
and 20.3 per cent in 1890, were held by tenants. 

4— That of the total number of farms of less than 50 acres, 43 per cent in 
1880, and 44 per cent in 1890, were held by tenants. This small— and we 
need not say, miserable — tenantry, was chiefly located in the Southern Statea, 
where it was the best product of the abolition of slavery. With the intro- 



— 151 — 

ductlon of agricultural machinery, it is, of course, bound to disappear very 
rapidly. 

5 — That while the total number of farms of all sizes increased only 655,- 
734, or 13.86 per cent, the number of farms occupied by tenants increased 
from 1,024,601 to 1,294,913, or 26.3 per cent. The increase in the number of 
tenanted farms was 270,312, or very nearly one-half of the total increase of 
farms. 

AGBICULTUBAL HACHINEBT. 

According to the census returns, the total value of farm implements and 
agricultural machinery compared as follows in 1880 and 1890: 

1890 $494,247,467 

1880 406,520,055 

Increase $87,727,412 or 21.58 per cent. 

These figures, at first sight, appear very large; and, no doubt, when com- 
pared with the value of the agricultural implements and machinery used in 
other countries (not only such as India, Egypt, Russia, etc., where primitive 
tools and methods are still largely prevailing, but such as France, Germany, 
etc, where modern instruments of production are revolutionizing agriculture), 
they justify the claim of "American superiority." When they are examined 
a little more closely, however, they simply show the unprogressive condition 
of agriculture, even in this, the most advanced of all countries, during the 
period of transition through which agricultural capitalism is now passing. 

Indeed, when we divide the total value ($494,227,467) of implements and 
machinery in 1890 by the total number of farms (4,564,641) reported for the 
same year, we find as follows: 

Average Value of Implements and Machinery per Farm $10&. 

Again, the reported Increase of $87,727,412 for 10 years, gives an average 
annual increase of only $8,772,741, which, divided by the aforesaid number of 
farms, gives the following result: 
Average Annual Increase of Implements and Machinery per Farm.. $1.70. 

From these ridiculously small "averages per farm," and from what we 
know of the actually large and growing quantity and value of agricultural 
machinery on the farms owned by great capitalists, it is evident that there 
is no mechanical improvement whatever on the vast number of those which 
are still held by an Immense majority of poor or comparatively poor farmers. 
If the census figures are correct, there is not 1 farm in 5 that is on an average 
provided with machinery to the value of $500; for if there were 913,000 farms 
thus provided, their capital invested in machinery would amount to $456,500,000, 
leaving for the other farms (3,650,000 in number), implements to the total value 
of $37,700,000, or a trifle over $10 per farm. 

With these facts and considerations to guide us, we may, then, quite 
safely say that for some reason inherent in the present economic conditions, 
agriculture in this country is not yet supplied with one-fourth (or possibly 
one-fifth) of the machinery already available. 

What this reason is can readily be perceived. The very fact that machines 
of a constantly more improved and costly type are used on the farms owned 
by wealthy capitalists, precludes their introduction on the land owned by 
men of small means or small holdings; not only because of their cost, but 
because of their immediate consequences and effects. In the first place^ 



-^ 152 — 

machines involve production on a large scale; therefore, specialization of pro- 
duct and subdivision of labor.* These two conditions alone would of them- 
selves place Eoaehinery beyond the reach of the small farmer, even if he 
could procure enough money to get it. Asain, through these new factors — 
machinery, specialization of product and division of labor— the price of the 
product is reduced to a point below its former labor cost, until the small 
farmer, for whom this cost has remained the same, is driven so deeply into 
poverty that he must finally abandon his farm. No alternative, then, is left 
him but to become an agricultural laborer; and even the prospect of his em- 
ployment as such, owing to the increase (ever so small) of machinery, becomes 
every day more uncertain, as the following figures ominously show: 

1880. 1890. Decrease. 

Number of agricultural laborers .... 3,323,876 3,004,061 319,815 

But this, is, as we have already observed, a period of transition in the 
development of agricultural capitalism; a period corresponding to the early one 
in manufacturing industry, when the individual manufacturer, not yet seriously 
threatened in his existence -by the advent of the corporation, was fast sup- 
planting the artisan. This period is necessarily longer in agriculture than 
it has been in manufacture. And for obvious reasons. In the latter, ma- 
chinery was the only factor and immediately knocked out of the artisan's 
hand his insignificant tool; whereas, in the former, land was and is still an 
element of considerable value, which it takes more time for the capitalist to 
wrest from its present owners through the operation of his machinery. 

As this process developes. however, its rapidity increases at an extra- 
ordinary rate. Then its almost sudden effects — widespread, powerful, and 
seemingly out of proportion with their real cause — illustrate more and more 
vividly the great capitalistic fact, always prominently held up to view by the 
Socialists, but stupidly or wilfully ignored by Silverites, Single-taxers, Anti- 
monopolists and all such schools of blind ''Reformers"; namely, that the 
Machine is the All-Important Factor; from which naturally flows the con- 
clusion, that Its Ownership is of Necessity the Only True Issue, for the owner 
-of the machine necessarily becomes the owner of the land. 

Nothing, indeed, is more suggestive than the profound changes already 
wrought out in the economic conditions of agriculture by the introduction of 
a quantity of machinery which is insignificant as compared with what it 
could, should and will be. Observe that this quantity, including not only 
the superior mechanical appliances but sl\\ the inferior implements In use, is 
valued in the Census returns of 1890 at less than $500,000,000, and therefore 
represents hardly a thirty-second part of the total value of the farms, which 
is estimated (in round figures) at $16,000,000,000. Imagine what the effect 
would be — upon agricultural labor, upon agricultural prices, upon the owners 
^f the 2,200,000 farms of less than 100 acres, and upon the country at large — 
of a mere doubling of that sum in appliances of the most improved kind, as may 
1)0 the case within a few years if the electrical experiments now being made 
in some great farming establishments should result in inducing only the 



* It is estimated that on the bonanza farms of Dakota and California 400 single men- 
agricultural laborers— employed only during the season and supplied with the moat Im- 
.pFOved machinery, produce as much wheat as is obtained by 5,000 French peasants on the 
rich plains of the Beauce and the Brie with the comparatively primitive tools at their oom- 
;mand. 



— IBS — 

60,000 wealthiest farm-ownerB to spend each on an average 910,000 tor 
mechanical plants of the most modern and eltectiTe type. 

WHEAT :— Production, Acreage, Yield per acre. Value of Crop, Price per 
bushel. Exports and Quantity Retained tor Consumption (Including Seed and. 
Stocks), from 1867 to 1897. 



Ye>r. 


nruii. 






Yteld 


Value 


Es porta. 


Retalui^d lav 


Pi'oduction, ^" 


urtiitiLi 

crop. 


bS 


NMlotal.!,,",,,,^ 




Ac ITS, 


Biieh-lB. BuBh. 


DoUarB- 


CU. 


BuBlielfl. 






18,m,Bffl 

i8,«.m 

11,10.004 

u.»z.rai 








26.284.803 
29.717,201 
63.900,780 
62,680.m 






224 

260 
236 


088.800 

SS4!700 


818,196 
244.924 
245,866 


2M) 
120 




IMS 


206,246.120 






ATcrmge .... 


a.m.m 


m 


127.400 1 18.44 


»cn.aa 


221 


112 






5.1 


an 

J872 

18TB 

m< 

18T» 


x.iss.m 

2t,881,G12 


m 


722,400 

264!700 
102,700 
136,000 




m.m 
miso 

323.614 

»1,107 
294,680 


820 
876 
606 

696 
990 




88,115,766 
62,014,716 

91,610.398 
72,912,817 
74.750,682 


191,728,645 
117,982.385 
189,744.302 
236,189,883 
217,386.318 




Av«r«SB .... 


n,m.m 


CTB 


642,680 1 lt.82 [ 801,976 


1T7 1 128 1 66.038,876 


»■«•■" 


6.0 


isn 

1817 

isra 


*7,SOT,021 
M,n7,6iS 
8!,108,BW 

n,88«,TI7 


as9 

364 

448 
498 


366,600 
198,146 
122,400 
766,630 
549,868 




300,266 
394.896 
826.34 
417.030 
474,201 


WO 
T» 

142 

8E0 




67.043,936 
M.On.726 
160,603,608 
180.304,180 

188,321.614 


?I2, 164,620 
269,619,894 
268,462.460 
312,228,354 




Av«ras« -... 


a,ao9,iG9 1 m 


196.309 1 18.91 


896,60. 


689 1 98 


133,248,772 


270,947,517 


6.6 


1881 

188! 

ISSS 

1886 


87,709,020 

I9,476.«86 
84,189,246 


383 
604 
421 

367 


280,090 
186,470 
066.160 
766.000 
112,000 




466,880 
446.60! 

383,649 
330,86 
276,320 


427 

m 

282 
280 
890 




121,892,389 
147,811.316 
111.634,182 
132,670,886 
14,686.798 


26I.3S7.701 
356.374,164 
309,551,978 
380,194,634 
262,646,207 




Avw.Be .... 


S«,»79,B»7 


436 


686,744 1 U.8S 


jmi,4«s 


897 1 86 1 m,674,8(» 


314,010,935 


5.8 


use 

IKST 

IW 

ISM 

189» 


88,906,184 
87,841,783 

88,087,164 

r.m.02a 

39,B16.S97 
88,664.430 
»,6Z9,113 
34,881.436 
34,047,33a 


4K 
4IE 

z 

4*1 


218,000 

3^,too 

866,000 
560,000 
262.000 
847,400 


„.»_ 


614,226 

aio,au 

386.248 
342.49 
334.T7 

387.47 
613.47! 
3!2.m 
3)3,171 

237,93! 


020 
WO 
030 
707 
678 
479 


■ '76 " 


163,804,969 
119,624,844 
88,600,742 
109,430.467 
106,181.316 
UB,6iai.368 


303,413,031 
336,704.656 

38i!i2b|533 
293,080,681 
328,819,032 


5.4 


im 

ISB 

18M 

1814 

im 


611,780,000 
616,949,000 
mi31,726 
460.267,416 
167,102.947 


881 
3S1 
026 
998 




22B.666.SI! 
191,912,635 
164,283,120 
144.812.718 


388,114,188 1 
324.036,365 | 
231,848,696 1 ■ 
315,454,698 | 
340,^8,979 1 


Ayense .■■ 


J6.508,105 480.246,218 \ 18.42 | S2a,Bl 
34,618.646 1 427.6S4.34e | | m,60 


891 

539 


65 1 nMiSMi 


319, 622.666 ; 4.6 


1B9S 




14B, 124,372 


!S;,ii59,371 





KOTE.— Tlie Sgurea of production are lor tha calendar year while the elporH are lor 
tbe flical yaar pndlDg six monlhs later. For InatanM, tbe crop ol the calendar rear endlnK 
December 31 lSil6. was 417,684.346 huBheli; wmie tha eiporta (chiefly of that crop) were 
145,124,172 bushelB For the Bacal rear endlns June 30, 1897. 

The Imports and exports of "foreign" wheat were comparatively Inslg- 
niflcant, and liave been omitted from this table, which they would needlesBly 
complicate. 



COBlT^-ProducUon, Acreage, Tleld per acre, Value of Crop, Price per 
bnBtiel, Exports and Quantity Retained for Consumption (Including Seed and 
Stocks), trom 1867 to 1897. 







3 


ProdiLcUoD. 


per 


™u. 




, 


RetulniMi tor 




ottolal 
crop. 


S 




Net totikl. 


IP 




Acre.- 


Buc^tulB. 


iJiuh. 


DoUars. 


Ots. 


BuilH'Ifl. ; Bushela. 


BUBb. 


IW 

IM 

ino 


::: 


M,E20,249 

u.m.m 
87.ioa,a« 

t8.SM,m 


768,320.000 
906,627,000 
874,620.000 
1,094.266.000 




00,9(8.400 

669,612,400 
668,632,700 
601.889.000 




12.498. 
8.286 
2,140 

10,678 


622 765,826.478 
666 fS8.M0,33S 

487 sja.26B.oa 

973 1,083.689,471 




ATsnce 




3G.T89,m 1 »0,»OG,EOO | 2G.4E [ «I),208,I2G { «7 \ S,m 


386 ( B02,60e.U4 | M.1 


im 

isra 

1874 '.'.'.'.'. 
1K5 


::: 


u,m.w 

3S,E26.8»6 
M.m.H8 
41,036.918 
44,S41,m 


991,898.000 
1.092,719,000 
922,274.000 
860,148,600 
1.321,069,000 




478,276,900 
496.149,290 
447,183,020 
660,043,080 
666,446,930 




86.727 
40,164 
3B.9S6 
30.025 
60.910 


374 

834 

632 


966.170,990 
1,062,664,626 
896.288,166 
820,123,464 
1,271,158,468 




Average 


... 


t8,B3S,eS2 { l.a37,S21,T00 [ !S.H [ 4»,Zt9,44G | IT.E | tS.M) 


667 1 999.2044J | 84.1 


WTB ..... 

1877 

187S 

18T9 

1880 




«.«B,364 
60,369.118 
G1,&SE.000 
6).ag6,4M 

ea.ai7.s43 


1,283.827,600 
1,342,668.000 
1,288,218,760 
1,647,901,790 
1,717,434,640 




476,491.310 
480,643,400 
441.163,400 

B8O.4S6.200 
679.714,600 




72.663 
87,192 
87,884 

99.672 
93.648 


)92 
147 


I,2U.174,S8» 
1.266,aaB.S»0 
1.300,383,868 
1,448,329,461 
1.623.786,196 




Averace 


... 


68,?r8,165 1 1,465,988,116 | Z7.06 | 581.4S7.742 | 96.6 | 88,190 


018 1 1,367,798,098 | 28.7 


1881 

1S8J 


::: 


«4,M2,0!5 

es.m,B4B 
es.m.sw 

a.«8I,780 

78,130.160 


l.m.916.000 
1,07,036.100 
1.60,066.900 
1,796,528,000 
1,986,178.000 




668.061,486 
640.736,660 
635.674,630 




44.340 

41,655 
46,268 
62.876 
64.839 


6S3 

606 
466 
617 


l,160.67B.m 
1,675.369,447 
1,604,808,IS> 
1.742,661.64* 
1.871,846.388 




18S4 

use 


::: 




ATorage 




88,207,478 | 1,«M,»4»,600 | W-TS | 686.682.204 | 42.9 ] 49,»Z 


200 { 1.668.960,300 { 29.S 


18B8 

1887 

1888 

1890 


::; 


76,694,208 
72,399,720 
76,673,763 
78.319.661 
71.970,763 


1.666.441.000 

i.4Be.iei,ooo 

1.987,790.000 
2,112,892,000 
1.489.970.000 




610,311.000 
646.106.700 
677, 661.600 
697,919.000 
764,433.000 


41,368 
26.360 
70,841 
103,418 
12,041 


681 
869 

709 
629 


1,624.072,411 
1,430.800.181 
1.016,948.827 
2.009.473.291 
1.467,928.471 




ATOr«« 


,.. 


74,810.021 \ 1.742,460.800 | 23.29 | eS7.26e,3«0 | 37.7 | 64.606 


273 1 1.687,844,627 | 2S.1 






'r6.204.QS 
70,628,668 
72,036,465 

62.076,830 


i.0aO.144.0OO 
1.628.464.000 
1,619,496,131 
1.212.770,052 
2,161.138,680 




836,439.2S8 
6U.Hfl,S30 
691,625,627 
664,710.162 
644.986,634 




23;685 


894 
629 
405 
376 


1,581.342,106 
1,563,006,602 
1,184,184,647 
2,060.038,206 




m» 

18)8 

MM 

1896 


... 




Avenge 




73 705.147 1 1.734.402.B5! | a.&S | eS3,9S3,23B | 3B,B | 63,973 


S97 1 l,670.i2!.65B | 24.1 


MM 


...] 81.027.166 1 2,283.876,165 | SS.19 | 4Bl.0O6.M7 | a.6 | ITS.flUUT | !,t05.067,l« | 


NOTE. 
tlwIlKal 


-1 


Tie flgurts 

r <niiiDK B 

189<, -WftB 


Of productio 
I montlia La 
2,Z5S,S76,16B b 


er. F 
uahelB 


or tho CAlB 
rlnstaDce, 
while the 


ndar 
thee 


■opolt 
U (Gbl 




iho eiports 
at that crop 


ire for 
we™ 



178,817,417 bnibels for the 



The imports and exports of "foreign" corn were comparatively insig- 
nificant, and tiave been omitted trom tbls table, which they would aeedleaalir 



— 155 — 

Comments on the Tables of Wheat and Com Production. 

Before pointing out the remarkable lessons which these tables teach, let 
us first call attention to one of their important features. The yield per acre, as 
everybody knows, varies greatly from year toi year according to weather con- 
ditions; in other words there are "good crops" and "bad crops." But the 
average is, as a rule, found to be about the same when periods of five years are 
compared. For this reason and others that will appear sufficiently obvious 
upon inspection, we have divided the 30 years, 1867-1897, into six periods; the 
first one (1867-1870) comprising 4 years, and the next five (which together 
extend from 1871 to 1895) comprising each 5 years, so that the current period 
begins with 1896. While the figures for each year are interesting and fre- 
quently very instructive, we have therefore given also the annual average for 
each period, as being the matter of chief import. 

1 — WJieat — The fall of the average price of this great agricultural staple 
has been constant from period to period. It declined from $1.32 in the period 
1867-70 to $0.65 in the period 1891-95. The crop of the latter period was in 
quantity considerably more than twice as great as that of the former, and it 
was raised on a land surface nearly double; yet both yielded about the same 
amount of money. In other words, the gross returns of a farm, pro- 
ducing the same quantity of wheat as thirty years ago, are only one-half of 
what they were at that time, and unless its cost of production has been reduced 
its net returns are not probably now one quarter of what they were formerly. 

The point has obviously been reached where wheat can no longer be 
profitably raised except on bonanza farms, provided with the most improved 
machinery, and owned by men closely allied with the railroad, trust and 
banking magnates who control the enginery of transportation, storage and 
international commerce. 

That the small farmers are being fast driven out of competition, is shown 
by the acreage under wheat cultivation. The area in wheat reached its max- 
imum in 1891, when it attained the figure of nearly 40,000,000 acres. Since then, 
despite the increase of population and exports, it fell steadily and was only 
34,600,000 acres in 1896. 

Not less significant in another direction is the steady decline of the quantity 
of wheat "per capita" retained for domestic uses. Generally we dismiss as 
fraudulently misleading the so-called "per capita" statistics; but wheat, as a 
staple of universal necessity, must here be excepted, with a few reservations. 
For every head of the population there were on an average 5.8 bushels from 
1881 to 1885 (including the quantity kept for seed and in stock). Of late years 
there were only 4.6 bushels, or half a bushel less than thirty years ago. It is 
evident from this that there are many people who, for some reason, eat less 
wheat bread than formerly. Do they eat more com bread or purchase more 
meat? Let us see. 

2 — Corn. — This is essentially — almost exclusively — an American cereal. Our 
production of it, measured in bushels. Is about four times our production of 
wheat. It enters largely into the food of our people as a breadstuff, but is 
still more largely used to feed cattle and swine, and is then consumed in the 
form of meat, butter, cheese, lard, etc., not only by us, but by foreigners to the 
extent of our exports of those products. For the past two years, owing to 



— 156 — 

special conditions which may or may not result in a continued foreign demajid, 
we have exported large quantities of it, which, however, constituted only a 
small percentage of the. crop. Until quite lately the market for our Indian 
corn was therefore almost entirely in the United States, and the influence upon 
it of the world's market was not direct, as in the case of wheat, but indirect; 
in other words, it was not affected by the competition of foreign corn, as our 
wheat is by foreign wheat, although as a breadstuff and to the extent only that 
it was such, it would naturally be affected by the wheat market. Again, as it 
was a most important factor in the production of meat, and as the price of 
meat was upon the whole rather steady, with an occasional tendency to a rise, 
it might have seemed reasonable to expect that Indian corn would at least hold 
its own better than wheat had done. And such was the case for a time, as 
the figures in our tables show. True, its average price fell from 67 cents a 
bushel for the period 1867-70 to 36.6 cents for the period 1876-80; but it re- 
covered more than 6 cents in the following period, whereas wheat e(mtinued to 
fail. Since 1885, however, its decline has been constant, and the average price 
at which the great crop of 1896 was marketed was only 21^ cents! 

The fact is that while the transportation and elevator combinations hold 
the farmer by the throat on the wheat side, the meat trusts hold him likewise 
on the corn side. The great ranches owned by these trusts and their associ- 
ates act upon the value of cattle on the hoof, and therefore also upon the value 
of corn, in the same manner as the bonanza farms owned by great capitalists 
in combination with the same class of associates act upon the value of wheat 
on the farm. 

It is no wonder that the small farmer, bred in the notions of early-day 
capitiilism, and unable to perceive that the development of industrial and 
commercial machinery has forever put an end to the small farm as well as to 
the small shop, fondly listens to the fairy tales of the silver baron, who tells 
him that he of the few cows and antiquated horse plow can kill the trust giant, 
the "money power," the gold octopus, with a silver brick. 

Nothing but a large increase of consumption could give our little farmer 
some relief; and such relief would necessarily be of a temporary character. 
This increase could not come from the wealthy classes. It could only come 
from the poor masses of cities — the wage workers. In regard to these, what 
are the facts? Enforced idleness and reduced wages are constantly decreasing 
their purchasing power. Therefore, the same phenomenon already noted 
under the head of Wheat is noticeable to a still greater extent concerning Corn 
and Meat. ' The area planted in corn fell from 76,000,000 to 62,600,000 in 1S94, 
or lower than it had been since 1880. True, under the temporary encourage- 
ment of higher prices produced by a short crop, it ran in 1895 and 1896 to over 
80,000,000 acres; but it is safe to say that low prices must soon again cause a 
decline, the increased production being unwarranted by the condition of the 
consuming masses, which places meat more and more beyond their reach. 
Moreover, the extent to which electricity is displacing animal power Is fast 
narrowing an important outlet for corn. All these conditions are reflected in 
the following tables, which show the considerable decline in the number of 
horses, cattle, sheep and swine, and in the value of farm animals, especially 
during the past few years: 



— 157 — 

OUR MEAT AND DAIB7 SUFFL7. 

1— Table Showing the Increase or Decrease in the Number of Farm Animals 

from 1880 to 1894; the Increase of Population in the 

Same Period being:.about 36 per cent. 



1894. 



1880. 



Increase or Decrease. 



Number. 



Per cent. 



Milch cows 

Oxen and other cattle 

Sheep 

Swine 



15,487,400 
36,608,168 
45,048,017 
45,206,498 



12,443,120 
23.482,391 
35,192,074 
47,681,700 



+ 3,044,280 
+ 13,125,777 
+ 9,855,943 
— 2,475,202 



J 



+ 24.4 
+ 55.9 
+ 28.0 
— 5.1 



2 — ^Table Showing the Increase or Decrease in the Number of Farm Animals 

from 1880 to 1890; the Increase of Population in the 

Same Period being 24.85 per cent. 



1890. 



1880. 



Increase. 



Number. 



Per cent. 



Milch COWS 

Oxen and other cattle 

Sheep 

Swine 



15,952,883 
36,608,168 
44,336,072 
51,602,780 



12,443,120 
23,482,391 
35,192,074 
47,681,700 



+ 3,509,762 
+ 13,125,777 
+ 9,143,998 
+ 3,921,080 



+ 28.2 
+ 55.9 
+ 26.0 
+ 8.2 



3 — ^Table Showing the Increase or Decrease in the Number of Farm Animals 

from 1890 to 1894; the Increase of Population in the 

Same Period being about 9 per cent. 



1894. 



1890. 



Increase or Decrease. 



Number. 



Per cent. 



Milch cows 

Oxen and other cattle . . 

Sheep 

Swine 



15,487,400 
36,608,168 
45,048,017 
45,206,498 



15,952,883 
36,849,024 
44,336,072 
51,602,780 



— 465,483 

— 240,856 
+ 711,945 

— 6,396,282 



— 2.2 

— 0.6 
+ 1.6 

— 12.4 



Less Meat for the People. 

From the above table it appears: 

1— That from 1880 to 1894, the number of milch cows was about 12 per 
cent, less, and the number of sheep 8 per cent, less, than the increase of the 
population. 

2— That from 1880 to 1894, the number of farm animals under the head 
"Oxen and Other Cattle," from which our supply of "beef" is derived, increased 
nearly 56 per cent., or about 20 per cent more than the population. But if the 
increased exportation of cattle and beef be taken into account, it is safe to 
say that the number of animals of this class which contribute to the domestic 
supply was actually no greater in 1894 than in 1880. 



— 158 — 

3 — That in spite of the increase in the exportation of hog products, the 
number of swine was 5 per cent less in 1894 than in 1880. 

4 — ^That the increase in the number of horned cattle took place from 1880 
to 1890, which was a period of great capitalistic prosperity; but that, from 1890 
to 1894, the number declined; and it was also during the latter period that the 
number of swine fell ofC about 6,400,000, or nearly one-eighth. 

From the above facts the conclusion is obvious that, upon the whole, our 
production — and therefore also our consumption — of meat and dairy products 
(milk, butter and cheese) has not increased in proportion to the population; 
in other words, that, while the wealthy and well-to-do class may consume or 
waste more food, the masses of the people are actually eating less, 

[In further confirmation of this statement, see elsewhere the statistics of 
wheat and com production.] 

We now come to a fact of still greater significance. 



The Meat Supply Is Now Smaller than it Was in 1860. 

To those who claim that we are better off than our fathers were, the fol- 
lowing figures are dedicated: 

Table Showing the DECREASE in the Number of Cattle, Sheep and Swine, 
FEB 100 INHABITANTS, from 1860 to 1894. 



Population 

Total Number of Cattle . . 
Number of Cattle per 

100 inhabitants 

Total Number of Sheep . . . 
Number of Sheep per 

100 inhabitants 

Total Number of Swine . . 
Number of Swine per 

100 inhabitants 



1894. 

67,608,836* 
53,095,568 

78.53 

45,048,017 

66.63 

45,204,498 

66.86 



Decrease. 



I860. 

31,443,321 
25,616,019 

81.46 

22,471,275 

71.46 
33,512,867 

105.31 




* The Increase of population since 1890 is estimated on the low basis of 1,246,646 per year, 
which was the average annual increase from 1880 to 1890. 



From the above table it appears that there were in 1894 nearly S heads of 
homed cattle, about 5 sheep and 38 swine less than in 1860 for every 100 in- 
habitants. 

Nor is this all. A comparison with 1850 would show that there were in 
that year nearly 2 heads of horned cattle less, but 27 sheep and 64 swine more 
than in 1894 for every 100 inhabitants. In other words, the source of supply 
in 1850 was capable of producing for every inhabitant about as much beef as 
in 1894, besides 40 per cent, more mutton and twice as much pork. 

The effect of the recent crisis upon agriculture and especially upon the 
sources of meat and dairy supply is strikingly shown in the following figures: 



— 159 — 



FABH ANIMALS— Number and Value from 1892 to 1897. 
[Ftom tlie Annual Reports of the Department of Agriculture.] 



Jan. 1, 



1392 
1893 

1894 
1895 
1896 
1897 



• •••••• I 



• ••••••• 



I • •■ • • • • 



Horses. 


Mules. 


Biilchcows 


Oxen,&o. 


Sheep. 


Swine. 


Number. 


Number. 


Number. 


Number. 


Number. 


Number. 


15,498,140 
16,206,802 
16.081,139 
15.893,318 
15,124,057 
14,364,667 


2,314,699 
2.231,128 
2,352,231 
2,333,108 
2.278.946 
2,215.654 


16,416,351 
16,424,087 
16,487,400 
16,504,629 
16,137,586 
15.941,727 


37,651,239 
35,954,196 
36,608.168 
34,364,216 
32,085,409 
30.508,408 


44,938,365 
47,273,553 
45,048.017 
42,294,064 
38.298,783 
36,818,643 


52,398,019 
46,094,807 
45,206,498 
44,165,716 
42.842,750 
40,600,276 



Total value 

farm 

animals. 

$2,461,756,698 
2,483,606,681 
2,170,816,764 
1,819,446,806 
1,727,926,084 
1,666,414,612 



Decrease in 5 
years 



1,133,473 


99,046 


474,624 


7,142,831 


8,119,722 


11,797.743 



1806,891.086 



NOTE.— As a rule the value fell in a much higher ratio than the number. 
The value of horses feU from $1,007,593,000, in 1892, to $452,649,000. in 1897. 
The value of mules fell from $176,000,000, in 1892, to $92,000,000. in 1897. 
The value of oxen and other cattle fell from $670,000,000, in 1892. to $507,000,000, in 1897. 
The value of sheep fell from $126,000,000. in 1893. to $67,000,000. in 1897. 
The value of swine fell from $296,000,000. in 1893, to $166,000,000. in 1897. 
The value of milch-cows alone shows a slight increase (from $361,000,000, in 1892, to 
$369,000,000, in 1897), although their number fell nearly 476.000. 

The total value of farm animals was $29,000,000 less in 1897 than in 1873. 

VALTTE OF AGBICTTLTUBAL FBODUCTS. 

[Incompleteness and Consequent Inaccuracy of the Census Betums — 

Corrected Estimates upon Data Supplied by Prof. J. B. Dodge, late 

Statistician of the Department of Agriculture.] 

According to the Census returns, the estimated value of agricultural pro- 
ducts (as already given in our general table under the head. "The Farms of 
the United States,") was as follows in 1880 and 1890: 



1880 2,212,540,927 

1890 $2,460,107,454 



Increase $257,566,527 or 11.19 per cent. 

These figures are very incomplete and, therefore, grossly inaccurate. Items 
of considerable import were unaccountably left out by the Census Office, making 
in the aggregate, for 1880, a sum of over $1,500,000,000; and the same omissions 
were made in the Census of 1890, despite the fact that in the meantime Prof. 
J. R. Dodge, Statistician of the Department of Agriculture from 1863 to 1893, 
had in the Appendix to a pamphlet entitled, "Farm and Factory/' published 
In 1883, given a more complete estimate, as follows: 



Quantity, Price and Value of Products of Agriculture, for the Calendar 

Tear 1879 (which is the Crop Year Beported 
in the Census of 1880). 



Products. 



Quantity. 



Price. 



Value. 



Com, bushels . 
Wheat, bushels 
Oats, bushels .. 



1,754,591,676 
459,483,137 
407,858,999 



$0 



39.6 
95.1 
36 



$694,818,304 
436,968,46.7 
146,829,240 



~ 160 — 



Products. 



Quantity. 



Price. 



Value. 



Rye, bushels 

Barley, bushels 

Buckwheat, bushels 

Rice, pounds 

Irish Potatoes, bushels . 
Sweet Potatoes, bushels 

Hay, tons 

Cotton, pounds 

Tobacco, pounds 

Peas and Beans, bushels 

♦Market Garden 

♦Orchard Products 

Hops, pounds 

Hemp, tons 

Flax, pounds 

Flax Seed, bushels 

Cane Sugar, hogsheads . 

Maple Sugar, pounds 

Cane Molasses, gallons 
Sorghum Syrup, gallons 
Maple syrup, gallons ... 

Beeswax, pounds 

Honey, pounds 

Grass Seed, bushels 

Clover Seed, bushels 

Wines, gallons 

fWool, pounds 

f Meats 

f Butter, pounds 

fCheese, pounds 

fMilk Consumed, gallons 

•(•Poultry Products 

Aggregate values 



19,831,595 


75.6 


14,992,686 


43,997,495 


66.6 


29,302,332 


11,817,327 


59.4 


7,019,492 


110,131,373 


6 


6,607,882 


169,458,539 


48.3 


81,848,474 


33.378,693 


45 


15,020,412 


35,150,711 


11 65 


409,505,783 


2,771,797,156 


9.8 


271,636,121 


472,661,157 


8.2 


38,758,215 


9,590,027 


1 50 


14,385,041 




• • • • 


21,761,250 




• • ■ • 


50,876,154 


26,546,378 


24 


6,371,131 


5,025 


200 00 


1,005,000 


1,565,546 


25 


391,387 


7,170,951 


1 25 


8,963,689 


178,872 


90 00 


16,098,480 


36,576,061 


13 


4,754,888 


16,573,273 


35 


5,800,646 


28,444,202 


33 


9,386,587 


1,796,048 


1 00 


1,796,048 


1,105,689 


33 


364,877 


25,743,208 


22 


5,663,506 


1,317,701 


1 50 


1,976,552 


1,922,982 


6 00 


11,537,892 


20,000,000 


60 


12,000,000 


240,681,751 


28 


67,390,890 




• • • • 


800,000,000 


900,000,000 


21 


189,000,000 


300,000,000 


9.5 


28,500,000 


1,800,000,000 


7.5 


135,000,000 




• • • • 


180,000,000 
3,726,331,422 



* As reported in the census, not including an immense home consumption. 

4- Census returns of farms, supplemented by estimates of ranch and town production. 

Value of Agricultural Products in 1890. 

Assuming that the rate of increase (11.19 per cent.) given by the Census for 
the period 1880-1890 is substantially correct and that it can safely be applied to 
the more complete figures given above, we find that the total value of the pro- 
ducts of agriculture enumerated in the foregoing table was, for the calendar 
year 1889, which was the crop year reported in 1890, $4,169,000,000. 



AVERAGE YIELD OF GRAIN FEB ACRE 

in the United States, as Compared with Other Countries. 

Many people believe that the great surplus of grain which is produced in 
the United States, and which must find a market in Europe in competition 



— 161 — 



with both the foreign product of the other exporting countries and the domestic 
product of the importing ones, is chiefly owing to the "superior fertility of the 
American soil/' from which our farmers are supposed to derive a great 
advantage. A glance at the following figures, compiled by the English 
statistician, Mulhall, from the best sources of information, will dispel this 
common and somewhat mischievous error: 





Average yield per acre. 


Coantries. 


Wheat. 


Barley. 


Oats. 


Bye. 


Maize. 




Bushels. 


Bushels. 


Bushels. 


Bushels 


Bushels. 


United States 


12 \ 


22 26 

1 


11 


23 






European countries: — 

United Kingdom 

Denmark 


28 
36 
25 
22 
22 
18 
18 
16 
16 
12 
12 
8 


33 
30 
33 
20 
26 
20 
19 
18 

• • 

18 

15 

9 


37 
33 
36 
18 
30 
26 
22 
22 
20 
20 
19 
15 


• • 

25 
20 
16 
25 
16 
15 
16 

• • 
« • 

• • 
10 




Belsium 




G ermany ' 




Sweden 




France . . t , , r - , , 


19 


Hunsary 


18 


*'*****0'** J •••••••••••••• 

Austria 


20 


Roumania 


30 


Spain 


18 


Italy 


20 


Russia 


15 






European average . . . 


14 


17 


22 


14 


20 


Other countries: — 
Canada 


16 
10 
13 
10 


27 

• • 

14 

• • 


48 

• * 

• • 

• • 


• • 

• • 

• • 

• • 


63 


Argentina 


20 


EKVDt 


18 


*^e>«7 JK** ••••••••••••••••• 

India 


20 







The above table shows that all the wheat-exporting countries, namely, 
Russia, Hungary, Roumania, Canada, Argentina, Egypt, India, Canada and 
the United States, have an average smaller yield of wheat per acre than the 
countries to which they chiefiy export, namely, the United Kingdom, Germany, 
fYance and Belgium. The so-called advantage of the former over the latter 
is in their relative cost of production. In such countries as Russia, Egypt 
and India, "cheaper labor" is the great factor; and their labor must indeed be 
very much cheaper in order to counteract not only the inferior productivity of 
their soil, but the comparative inefficiency of the labor itself, unaided as it 
generally is by improved machinery. On the other hand, in such countries 
as the United States, Canada and Argentina, the chief factor is in the 
"extensive" mode of production, as opposed to the "intensive" one of the 
countries to which they export; that is, in the cultivation of more land by 
machinery, and therefore with less labor, in order to obtain with a less yield 
per acre the same total product as is obtained in the importing countries from 
less land, more fertile, but cultivated without or with less machinery. 



— 162 — 

Extensive agriculture, as carried on in this country, requires, of course, 
a large territory thinly settled, and can only he carried on in the same res^ion 
for a limited period of years, hecause of the final exhaustion of the soil, to 
which none of the natural elements taken from it are returned. The country 
that exports crops raised by that mode of production actually exports its soil, 
and sows ruin or hard labor for the coming generation. It has been rightly 
called a vampire system, and is essentially the capitalistic system of agri- 
culture in the comparatively new countries, where the profit-seeking adventurer 
can, under our capitalist laws, enrich himself not only by appropriating the 
land but by robbing it of its natural wealth. 

WAGES OF FARM LABOR. 

The most complete and authoritative statement which we now possess 
concerning the wages of farm labor in this country is the result of nine 
statistical inquiries, conducted by Prof. Dodge, Statistician of the Department 
of Agriculture. The first of this series of investigations into the local rates 
paid for this class of labor was made in 1866; that is, a year after the Civil 
War, when the disbandment of the armies and the stoppage of the industries 
previously engaged in supplying a million soldiers with food, clothing, arms, 
ammunitions, etc., had "overstocked the labor market" with hundreds of 
thousands of idle veterans, vainly seeking employment. The latest was made 
in 1892, when **the country" — that is, the capitalist class — was at the height 
of its prosperity. In that period of 26 years, despite the enormous advance 
made in all branches of production, and contrary to the persistent claim 
that the condition of the working class had greatly improved, the wages of 
regular farm labor decreased about 31 per cent., and those of transient labor 
about 40 per cent, as may be seen from the following statistical summary 
of Prof. Dodge's extensive inquiries, covering every State and Territory. 

A 1 — Wages per Month by the Year or Season — ^Without Board. 

1892. 1890. 1888. 1885. 1882. 1879. 1875. 1869. 1866. 
Average ... $18.60 $18.33 $18.24 $17.97 $18.94 $16.42 $19.87 $25.92 |26.87 

A 2 — Wages per Month by the Year — ^With Board. 
1892. 1890. 1888. 1885. 1882. 1879. 1875. 1869. 1866. 
Average ... $12.54 $12.45 $12.36 $12.34 $12.41 $10.43 $12.72 $16.55 |17.45 

B 1 — Day Wages in Harvest — ^Without Board. 
1892. 1890. 1888. 1885. 1882. 1879. 1875. 1869. 1866. 
Average ... $1.30 $1.30 $1.31 $1.40 $1.48 $1.30 $1.70 $2.20 $2.20 

B 2— Day Wages in Harvest— With Board. 
1892. 1890. 1888. 1885. 1882. 1879. 1875. 1869. 1866. 
Average . . . $1.02 $1.02 $1.02 $1.10 $1.15 $1.00 $1.35 $1.74 $1.74 

CI — Day Wages for Transient Farm Labor — ^Without Board. 

1892. 1890. 1888. 1885. 1882. 1879. 1875. 1869. 1866. 
Average ... $0.92 $0.92 $0.92 $0.91 $0.93 $0.81 $1.08 $1.41 $1.49 

C 2— Day Wages for Transient Farm Labor — With Board. 

1892. 1890. 1888. 1885. 1882. 1879. 1875. 1869. 1866. 
Average ... $0.67 $0.68 $0.67 $0.67 $0.67 $0.59 $0.78 $1.02 $1.08 



— 163 — 

It goes without saying that these important figures, which show the grow- 
ing degradation of over 3,000,000 wage workers, have never been quoted, either 
in the press or on the stump, by Republican, Democratic or Populist writers 
or politicians. They show a steady decline of rates from 1866 to 1879, followed 
by a partial recovery of small amount until 1885, since which time they re- 
mained about stationary until 1892, the tendency, however, being in the 
direction of a decline. While a similar investigation would now serve the 
desirable purpose of supplying exact figures, we may safely assert that it 
would show a stupendous fall of wages, consequent upon the crisis of 1893, and 
from which there is absolutely no chance of recovery under any future cir- 
cumstances. 

Wages and Profits on the Truck Farms. 

In a Census monograph on the "Truck Farms of the United States," Mr. 
J. H. Hale, special census agent, gives as follows the rates of wages per day 
paid on those farms, from which the great cities, and even many villages, 
derive their supply of vegetables: 



Districts. 



Men. 


Women. 


Children 


$1.25 


1 

• • • ■ 


$0.65 


1.19 


• • • • 


50 


75 


$0.50 


35 


75 


50 


35 


77 


50 


25 


85 


65 


35 


75 


50 


25 


1.01 


50 


35 


1.16 


62 


50 


1.15 


• • • • 


• • • • 


1.40 


• • • • 


• • • • 


1.35 


• • • • 





New England 

New York and Philadelphia 

Peninsular 

Norfolk 

Baltimore 

South Atlantic 

Mississippi 

Southwest 

Central 

Northwest 

Mountain 

Pacific Coast 



As a rule, however, the piecework prevails, and the earnings of men and 
women are not sensibly larger than those of children. From further statistics, 
compiled by Mr. Hale, it appears that of the net product of the labor engaged 
in truck farming in 1890, about $9,500,000 went to the laborers as wages, and 
over $48,000,000 went to the truck-farming capitalists as profits. 



INCREASED FBODUCTIVITY OF FARM LABOR. 

In an extensive review of the conditions of agricultural production and 
prices, published in the report of the Minnesota Bureau of Labor Statistics 
for 1896, the compiler comes to the conclusion that in the Mississippi Valley 
there has been an increase (by new machinery and methods, of course) of 
not less than 60 and possibly 75 per cent., in the productive power of the farm 
worker since 1862. 



MANUFACTURES. 



Comparative Summary of Totals for 1890, 1880 and 


1870. 


Items. 

• 


1890. 


1880. 

253,852 I 


1870. 


Number of establishments 


355,401 


252,148 


Capital:— 
Land 


$775,713,649 

878,832,137 

1,584,155,710 

3,285,773,809 


* 
* 
* 
* 


* 


Buildinsrs 


* 


Machinery, tools, etc 


* 


Live Assets 


* 






Total capital 


$6,524,475,305 


$2,790,272,606 


$2,118,208,769 






Persons employed: — 
Officers, firm members and 
clerks: — 
Males 


418,014 
43,035 

461,049 


* 
* • 


* 


Females 


* 






Total employers and clerks 


* 


* 


Operators, skilled and unskilled: 
Males 


3,327,196 
802,393 
121,194 

4,250,783 


* 
* 
* 

* 


* ' 


Females 


* 


Children 


* 


Total operatives 


* 


Grand total persons employed: — 
Males 


3,745,210 
845,428 
121,194 

4,711,832 


2,019,035 
531,639 
181,921 


1,615,598 


Females 


323,770 


Children 


114,628 






Grand total 


2,732.595 


2,058,996 






Wages: — 
Officers, firm members and 
clerks 


$391,914,518 

1,890,908,747 
$2,282,823,265 


* 
* 


* 


Operatives, skilled and un- 
skilled 


* 






Total wages 


$947,953,795 


$775,584,343 






Cost of materials used .' 


$"6T58rgBS;g53" 


$3,396,823,549 


$2,48^,427,24^ 






Value of products 


$9,370,107,624 


$5,369,579,191 


$4,232,325,442 



In comparing the returns of 1890 with those of 1880, it should first be 
noted that several Industries — numbering together, in 1890, 32,777 establish- 
ments which employed 235,738 persons, with a capital (in round figures) of 
$385,000,000 and a product of $315,000,000— were omitted in 1880. Chief among 
these industries figured custom dressmaking and custom millinery, number- 



Not reported separately at the ceusnses of 1880 and 1870. 



— 165 — 

ing 25,586 establishments and 91,500 employees (mostly seamstresses); also, 
716 construction shops of steam railroad companies, occupying over 108,500 
mechanics, laborers, foremen, etc., and 742 gas works, employing nearly 
15,000 people. A few others, namely bottling, cotton-ginning and cleaning, 
druggists' preparations, and coffin trimmings — ^were comparatively unim- 
portant. When the necessary correction is consequently made, it is found 
that the percentages of increase in 1890 and 1880 were substantially as 
follows: 



Items. 

Number of establishments 

Capital 

Number of persons employed 

Total sum paid in salaries to officers, firm members and 

clerks, and in wages to operatives 

Cost of materials used 

Value of products 



Increase per cei^t. 



FroiQisao 
to 1890 



From 1870 

to 1880. 



27.27 

120.76 

65.74 

131.13 
47.77 
69.27 



.06 
31.72 
33.04 

22.22 
36.54 

26.87 



The foregoing figures tell a wonderful story of manufacturing "progress" 
during the last census decade. Nothing like it had ever been seen and when 
they were made known the capitalistic world went into ecstasy. Yet they 
do not tell the whole story. In some cases they fail to adequately express 
the real magnitude of the gains made; in some others they are peculiarly 
misleading in that they give an inverted view of certain capitalistic tendencies. 
Let us look into the matter a little more closely. 

When the number of establishments and the capital engaged are con- 
sidered the totals of 1880, as compared with those of 1870, afford no basis for 
erroneous conclusions. They plainly reflect the tendency to capitalistic con- 
centration in manufacture, and an analysis of the returns simply corroborates 
the fact which they express. In those ten years (1870 — 1880), although capital 
increased nearly $700,000,000, or 31.72 per cent., the total number of estab- 
lishments remained substantially the same, increasing only 1,704, or a fraction 
of one per cent. 

Not so with the totals of 1890, as compared to those of 1880. They show a 
large increase in the number of establishments, and although they show at the 
same time a comparatively much larger increase of capital, they convey no 
idea whatever of the stupendous concentration of industry which took place 
from 1880 to 1890. Until they are properly analyzed they rather induce the 
entirely opposite and absolutely false conclusion, that the notable increase in 
the number of establishments, coincident with the still larger increase of 
capital, was the result of greater prosperity more widely diffused. 

But an examination of the returns for each industry, separately, soon begins 
to show the existence, magnitude and character of the concentration. It also 
supplies at every step additional evidence of the most positive nature in support 
of the conclusions already presented in our chapters on "The Classes'* and the 
"Progress of Bankruptcy." With this inquiry we shall now proceed as briefly 
as possfble, yet as far as necessary to make the matter clear beyond the pos- 
sibility of dispute. 



— 166 — 

Of the 363 industries tabulated in the last census of manufactures, 67 re* 
ported a product valued at $30,000,000 or over, during the year ending May 31, 
1890, and represented in the aggregate four-fifths of the total number of estab- 
lishments, capital invested, number of employees, wages paid, materials used 
and product turned out in all classes of manufacturing and mechanical pro- 
duction. Of these 67 greater industries, six are among those for which a com- 
parison cannot be established between 1890 and 1880 (five because they were 
not reported in 1880, and one— sugar refining — ^because the returns in both 
years were incomplete); while twenty-one show each a decrease in the 
number of establishments, but a large increase of capital, as appears from the 
following table: 



Table A.--GBEAT INDTJSTBIES in which the NUMBER OF ESTAB- 
LISHMENTS DECREASED and the AVERAGE CAPITAL FEB 
ESTABLISHMENT INCREASED, from 1880 to 1890. 



Industries. 



Number of establishments. 



1880. 



^890. Decrease 



Average capital per 
estaDlishinent. 



1880. 



1890. 



Agricultural implements 

Blacksmithins and wheelwrighting 

Carpets and rugs , 

Chemicals 

Cooperage 

Cordage and twine 

Cotton goods 

Flouring and grist mills 

Iron and steel 

Iron and steel i^ipe, wrought 

Leather, tanned and curried 

Liquors, distilled 

Liquors, malt 

Lumber, from logs 

Paper 

Saddlery and harness 

Shipbuilding 

Soap and candles 

Tinsmithing and sheet iron working.. 
Tobacco, chewing, smoking and snuff. 
Woolen goods 

Total 



1.943 


910 


1.033 


1 
131,900 


38,802 


28,000 


10,802 


780 


195 


173 


22 


110,000 


592 


563 


29 


48.300 


3,898 


2,652 


1,246 


3.120 


165 


140 


25 


43.200 


1.005 


905 


100 


218,400 


24.338 


18,470 


5,868 


7.280 


1,005 


645 


360 


229,800 


35 


22 


13 


175,100 


5,424 


1.596 


3,828 


12,300 


844 


440 


404 


28,700 


2.191 


1.248 


943 


41.600 


25,708 


21,011 


4,697 


7,-040 


692 


567 


125 


66,800 


7,999 


7,931 


68 


2,060 


2,188 


1,010 


1,178 


9,580 


629 


578 


51 


23,100 


7,693 


7,002 


691 


3.010 


477 


395 


82 


36,000 


1,990 


1.311 


679 


48,300 



1159.700 

1,230 

220.800 

96.100 

6.710 

162,700 

391.100 

11,300 

579,000 

1,028.200 

50.900 

70.400 

186.200 

23,600 

145.200 

4,450 

52,860 

42,900 

5,490 

78,000 

99.900 



127,813 I 95,569 I 32,244 



In seventeen of the twenty-one Industries figuring in the foregoing table, 
trusts or combines had already been formed in 1890, and have since then largely 
extended their work of amalgamation; so that the reported decrease in the 
number of establishments generally means in such cases not an actual dis- 
appearance but an absorption. In the case of flour and lumber, however, the 
disappearance was complete, owing to the vast equipments and other ad- 
vantages possessed by the great combines which more and more fully control 
those products, and are fast wiping out of the face of the earth the country 
grist mill and the village saw mill. But special attention is called to the four 
other industries, which, great in the aggregate amount of product turned out, 
are still carried on by comparatively small and numerous establishments; 
namely, blacksmithing, cooperage, saddlery and tinsmithing. These have ob- 



— 167 



viously reached a stage where the greater amount of capital required to more 
or less successfully engage in them is not only an impassable barrier to the 
mechanic of much skill and very limited means, but an eliminating factor of 
considerable power. In the case of blacksmithing and saddlery, the trolley 
and the bicycle are now additional factors, the full force of which had not yet 
been felt in 1890. 

Of the 41 remaining greater industries, 20 were carried on chiefly or en- 
tirely in large factories, mills or works, each of which required a considerable 
capital. These show in the aggregate a small increase of 4,454 establishments, 
but an enormous increase in the average capital per establishment, as follows: 

Table B.— GREAT INPUSTBIES, in which the NUMBER OE ESTAB- 
LISHMENTS INCREASED SLIGHTLY, while the AVERAGE 
CAPITAL FEB ESTABLISHMENT INCREASED LARGELY. 



Industries. 



Number of establishments. 



1880. 



1890. 



Increase 



Average capitalt 
per establishmen 



1880. 



1890. 



Boots and shoes (factory product) 

Brick and tile 

Cars and construction shops (not belonging 

to railroad companies) 

Coffee and spice (roasting and grinding) 

Fertilizers ■. 

Foundry and machine shops 

Furniture and upholstering 

Glass 

Gold, reducing and refining 

Hats and caps 

Hosiery and knit goods 

Ironwork, architectural and ornamental 

Iron and steel nails and spikes 

Jewelry 

Paints 

Petroleum refining , 

Shirts 

Silk and silk goods 

Slaughtering and meat packing 

Worsted goods 

Total 



1,959 


2,082 


123 


121,900 


5,631 


6,828 


197 


4,900 


130 


166 


36 


71,300 


300 


358 


58 


21,200 


364 


390 


26 


49,200 


4.958 


6,475 


1,517 


31,100 


6,624 


5,633 


9 


7,300 


211 


294 


83 


94,100 


28 


38 


10 


29,000 


489 


705 


216 


11,100 


359 


796 


437 


43,400 


220 


724 


504 


6,300 


62 


138 


76 


62,500 


739 


783 


44 


15.400 


244 


382 


138 


55.500 


86 


94 


8 


317.700 


549 


869 


320 


12.400 


382 


472 


90 


50,600 


872 


1,367 


495 


56.600 


76 


143 


67 


268,000 



146.800 
14,100 

292,000 
47.500 

104.100 
59.100 
14,000 

139.600 

125,000 
19.400 
63,900 
30,300 

176,300 
28,400 
89,000 

823,500 
16,400 

108,000 
86,300 

476.000 



23,283 27,737 



4,454 



Two of the industries enumerated in the foregoing table require here 
special comment. 

It will be observed that nearly one-quarter of the total number of estab- 
lishments in this table, and over one-third of the increase of that number, con- 
sisted in "foundry and machine shops." The fundamental part acted by 
machinery in the diversification of industry and in the development of cap- 
italism would of itself readily account not only for this increase in: the number 
of machine shops but for the increase of their average capital from $31,100 in 
1880 to $59,100 in 1890. It is quite safe to predict, however, that while the 
tendency to an increase of capital per establishment will become constantly 
more accentuated, the tendency to an increase in the number of establish- 
ments will not only disappear but be reversed. Among the 6,475 machine 
shops reported in 1890, there were many small ones, which either could hardly 
make the two ends meet, or were just enabled to subsist on the manufacture of 



— 168 — 

some special and patented piece of machinery. Could the number and capital 
of these be ascertained, it would unquestionably be found that the number of 
great shops had hardly increased, if at all, but that the capital at their com- 
mand had grown enormously. 

Next in the number of establishments enumerated in Table B (though not 
in the increase thereof, which was only 9, or in the average amount of capital 
per establishment, which, however, rose in ten years from $7,300 to $14,000), may 
be noted the furniture and upholstery industry. But it must be stated that 
owing to a difference in classification an intelligent comparison of 1890 with 
1880 is not possible. In 1880 the factory product was not reported separately 
from the repairing and custom work. In 1890 these two distinct products were 
separately reported and the returns showed 1,579 factories with an aggregate 
capital of $66,393,864, or an average of over $42,000 per establishment. This 
left an aggregate of $12,861,208 for the custom and repairing branch of the in- 
dustry, numbering 4,054 establishments; or an average capital of only $3,072 
per establishment. From these figures and from what we know, in general, of 
the inroads made upon the small shops by the common output of factories as 
well as by the artistic product of a few great firms that monopolize the custom 
of our millionaire parvenus, we feel Justified in asserting that the very limited 
means with which a number of artisans in this industry were striving to main- 
tain their independence had not increased in 1890, and may, indeed, by this 
time, have almost entirely vanished into smoke. 

To further counterbalance in part the loss of 32,244 establishments suffered 
by the 21 industries enumerated in Table A, we may look into the returns of 
the building trades, seven of which figured in the greater industries that 
turned out a product of over $30,000,000 in 1890 and compared as follows with 
1880: 



Table C— Increase of the NUMBER of ESTABLISHMENTS and of the 
AVERAGE CAPITAIi FEB ESTABLISHMENT in the BUILDING 
INDUSTRIES, 1880-1890. 



Industries. 



Number of establishments. 



1880. 



1890. 



Inctease 



Average capital per 
establishment. 



1880. 



1880. 



Carpentering 

Lumber, planing mill products, including 

sash, doors and blinds 

Marble and stone work 

Masonry, including plastering 

Painting and paperhanging 

Paving and paying materials 

Plumbing and gasfitting 

Total " 



9,184 


16,917 


7,733 


12,100 


2,491 


8,670 


1,179 


15,200 


2.846 


8,373 


527 


5,800 


1,591 


7,715 


6,124 


2,500 


3,968 


10,043 


6,075 


1,400 


46 


704 


658 


16,200 


2.161 


6,327 


3,166 


2,700 



I 4,800 

32,700 

11,000 

7,100 

2,300 

18.000 

5.500 



22,287 47,749 25,462 



Of the seven great building industries in the above table, four — namely, 
carpentering, masonry, plumbing and painting — were chiefly carried on in 
1880 by very small "bosses"; by mechanics who had saved a little money. The 
vast Increase of wealth from 1880 to 1890 brought about a profound change in 
this as in many other industrial conditions. A large portion of it was crystal- 
lized in the form of buildings, many of which were of unprecedented size and 
splendor. Here was an opportunity for the great contractor, the man of 



-~ 169 — 

superior means, information and enterprise, who could assume the entire re- 
sponsibility of a "job" involving hundreds of thousands or millions of dollars, 
treat on equal terms with wealthy owners of marble and stone quarries, iron 
works, lumber mills, etc., obtain the lowest rates of transportation, divide his 
contract into special parts, all of considerable importance, and sublet them to 
men of less means but sufficiently responsible to make him perfectly secure in 
his undertakings. These, calling themselves contracting masons, carpenters, 
painters, etc., would in turn subdivide the work allotted to them and distribute 
it among small bosses like those of former days, whose number now multiplied 
in proportion to the increase of the building business and even more rapidly. 
Throughout this industrial hierarchy the profits went up, as on a ladder, highest 
at the top. Yet the cost was less than it would otherwise have been. This 
was indeed the sweating system. The actual workers, the men whose horny 
hands actually constructed the great building from foundation to flag-pole, and 
whose bodies were frequently mangled in the operation, fondly believed that 
their wages were the same as before or even higher. They took no account of 
the greater intensity of their toil; nor of the greater efficiency of their labor 
through the use of powerful machinery; nor of the higher rent they had to pay 
for miserable hovels because of the enhanced value given far and wide to "real 
estate" by the palaces which they were erecting. 

Surely it is no wonder that in a period during which a part of the enormous 
surplus value created by and stolen from the working people was converted 
into buildings at the rate of from 800 to 1,200 millions a year, and under the 
sweating system which we have just mentioned briefly without attempting to 
describe it, the number of establishments engaged in the leading branches of 
the building industry should have increased to the extent it did. As to the 
increase of the average capital per establishment the above figures, however, 
are misleading in so far at least as they relate to the four branches in which 
small bosses are still in a majority. The capital of the latter, we dare say, has 
not increased at all; rather the contrary; the average is simply swelled by the 
large amounts of capital at the command of a comparatively few contractors 
and sub-contractors, who use the little bosses as sweating agents, to get from 
the workmen the largest possible amount of labor for the least possible money. 

The following six industries (among those which in 1890 turned out a pro- 
duct of over $30,000,000) showed an increase in both the number of establish- 
ments and the average capital per establishment. 



Table D.— Other GREAT INDUSTRIES in which the NUMBER OT 
ESTABLISHMENTS and the AVERAGE CAPITAIi PER ESTAB- 
LISHMENT INOREAiSED from 1880 to 1890. 



Industries. 




Bread and bakery products 

Carriages and wagons (including repairing) 
Cheese, butter and condensed milk (factory 

product) 

Clothing, women's (factory product) 

Confectionery 

Tobacco, cigars and cigarettes 

Total 



Average capital per 
eatablisbineut. 



1880. 



1890. 



6.396 


10,484 


4,088 


12,995 


3,841 


8,614 


4,773 


9,800 


3,932 


4,712 


780 


2,460 


562 


1,224 


662 


14,600 


1,450 


2,921 


1,471 


5,850 


7,145 


10,956 


3.811 


3,000 



14.364 
12,100 

3.550 

17,300 

7,980 

5,400 



23.326 38,9U 15,585 



— 170 — 

In all the above industries, with the exception of women's fa<jtory-made 
clothing, a large majority of the reported establishments are small and 
struggling concerns, whose average capital did not increase but rather de- 
creased, the average given in the table being abnormally swelled by the in- 
clusion of a comparatively few great and growing firms. The bakery trade, of 
course, was greatly promoted during the period under review by the growth of 
cities, the birth of new towns, and especially by the enlarged employment of 
women as wage workers, to which may be traced also the enormous develop- 
ment of women's factory-made clothing. (See in this connection our chapter 
on "Female Labor.") But in the case of cigarmaking the trade was obviously 
invaded by men of very limited and constantly decreasing means, driven by 
lack of employment or reduced earnings to the necessity of attempting to 
compete with establishments of wide repute and steadily increasing magnitude. 

Leaving aside the patent medicine branch of capitalism — the product of 
which in 1890 was over $32,000,000 as against $14,000,000 in 1880, and in which 
the number of establishments increased from 563 to 1,127 while the average 
capital per establishment decreased from $18,300 to $16,500 — we now present 
the highly suggestive returns of two great industries that modern machinery 
is sorely trying, and of a third, still greater, that the subdivision of labor and 
the sweating system have profoundly revolutionized with the aid of but little 
machinery. 



Table E.— GREAT INDUSTRIES in which the NUMBER OE ESTAB- 
LISHMENTS INCREASED and the AVERAGE CAPITAL PER 
ESTABLISHMENT DECREASED from 1880 to 1890. 



Industries. 



Boots and shoes, custom work and re- 
pairing I 

Printing and publishing 

Clothing, men's 



Number of establishments 



1880. 



16,013 
3,467 
6,166 



Total 25,646 



1890. 



Increase 



I 



20,803 
16,539 
18,658 



4,790 
13,072 
12,492 



Average capital per 
establlsmnent. 



56,000 30,354 



1880. 



$ 709 

18,100 
12,950 



1890. 



I 684 

11.800 
9,780 



These three industries must be considered separately; for, although the 
tendencies indicated by the returns appear to be the same for all, the con- 
ditions of each differ materially from the conditions of the others. Moreover,, 
the same principles of classification have not been observed in the collection of 
census data, the census officials having displayed in this oirtfumstance and 
many others an ignorance and carelessness that would be discreditable to a 
school boy fairly versed in arithmetic. 

The classification is more complete in the boot and shoe industry, for 
which we have, separately, the returns of custom work (including repairing) 
and of factory product in 1880 and 1890. The result is plain, compreh^isiye 
and striking. We can see at a glance the relative importance and comparative 
progress of the two distinct sections into which the industry is divided by their 
respective mode of production. In the factory product (see Table B) the 
number of establishments is small, its increase is insignificant, but the ai^erage 



— 171 — 

capital per establishment is large and its increase is considerable. It is Just 
the reverse in the custom and repairing product (Table E); the number of 
establishments is large and its increase (30 per cent.) is even larger than that 
of the population; but the average capital is practically insignificant and 
actually decreasing. In relation to the product of both the same opposite de- 
velopments are even more accentuated. We have here a typical example, an 
exact picture of the particular phase through which every old industry must 
pass, when the artisan class that once controlled it exclusively, then more and 
more vainly, more and more- desperately, struggled for existence by opposing its 
traditional skill to the enginery of modern capitalism, is at last on the eve of 
its final collapse. A' numerical swelling of its body, a contraction of its 
pecuniary organs, a diminution of its productive activity, all these are symptoms 
of its approaching death. Were the census data for all such industries as dis- 
criminating as they are in this case, we would surely find that nearly the 
whole increase in the number of establishments from 1880 to 1890 came from 
that doomed class, was produced by the same causes and had the same funerary 
meaning. 

The comparative statement of "printing and publishing'' for 1880 and 
1890, as given out by the Census Office, and by which it is made to appear that 
the number of establishments increased from 3,467 to 16,539, upon a closer ex- 
amination of the very returns themselves seems to be grossly incorrect and 
misleading. In the table of manufactures for 1880, the above figure of 3,467 
is indeed given as the total number of establishments in that year, together 
with the capital, number of workers, materials used and total product; but in a 
separate and special report on "Newspapers and Periodicals" (Compendium, 
Vol. II., p. 1,628) the number of such publications is given as 11,314, all the 
other data concerning capital, etc., being, however, omitted. Now, when we 
turn to the Census of 1890 we find the "printing and publishing*' industry 
divided into two parts, namely, "book and job" and "newspapers and periodi- 
cals," for each of which all these data are given. Assuming that in 1880 as 
in 1890 each periodical should in most cases be considered an establishment, 
the comparative statement would need correction substantially as follows: 



Printing and Publishing. 



1890. 



1880. 



Increase. 



Decrease. 



Book and job: 

Number of establishments . . 

Capital 

Average capital per estab- 
lishment 

Number of employees 

Total product 

Newspapers and periodicals: 

Number of establishments . . 

Capital 

Average capital per estab- 
lishment 

Number of employees 

Total product 



4,098 
$67,146,445 

$16,400 

58,139 

$93,540,831 

12,362 
$126,269,885 

$10,200 

106,095 

$179,859,750 



3,467 
$62,983,704 

$18,100 

58,478 

$90,789,341 

11,314 
Not reported 



Not reported 
Not reported 



631 
$4,1^2,741 



$2,751,490 



1,043 



$1,700 
339 



— 172 — 

It may be — and it is even probable— that in the census of 1880 a limited 
number of the newspapers and periodicals were included in the figure 3,467 
given as the total number of printing and publishing establishments. If 
such was the case, the increase of book and job printing offices from ISSO to 
1890 was a little larger than our corrected figures indicate, and the number of 
their employees would be found to have somewhat increased instead of de- 
creased. But our figures are obviously much nearer the truth than those of 
the census. During the period 1880-1890, the increase of printers was un- 
questionably very large, but it was chiefly in the newspaper business that it 
took place. 

At any rate, granting this industry and its employees the past enjoyment 
of any amount of prosperity, the fact is that since 1890 the type-setting machine 
and other improvements have revolutionized it. The more printers there were 
at work eight years ago, the more there must now be out of work. The next 
census may not show a marked decrease, or any decrease at all, in the number 
of establishments, owing to the fact that newspapers subsidized by capitalists 
and p<51iticians are steadily multiplying; but it will undoubtedly show a large 
decrease in the number of typos. Let us hope that at the same time the polls will 
show a proportionate awakening of the latter and a repudiation by them of 
the Democratic and Republican bunco-steerers that have turned their Inter- 
national "pure and simple, non-politicar' ui^lon into a den of boodle politics. 

As everybody knows, it is in the clothing industry that the sweating system 
reached its highest degree of hideous perfection in the latter part of the census 
decade 1880-1890. To this fact is plainly due the enormous increase of over 
200 per cent, in the number of so-called establishments, together with an ap- 
parent decrease of over 32 per cent, in the average capital per establishment. 
The new "firms" were for the most part contractors and sub-contractors, or 
"sweaters," with scanty means and scantier scruples, while the capitalists for 
whom they "worked" the working people were constantly adding to their 
"working capital," not to speak of other "savings of abstinence" — thg^t is to 
say, the abstinence of their victims. In the census of 1890 the returns of 
factory product and custom work were not given separately, so that the relative 
development of those two distinct sections of the men's clothing industry during 
the last census decade cannot be ascertained. In 1890, however, the necessary 
discrimination was made, with the following result: 



Men's clothing. 



Factory 
prodact. 



Number of establishments 

Average capital per establishment 

Average number of employees per establishment 
Average product per establishment 



4,867 

$26,350 

32.1 



Castom and 
repairing. 

13,591 

13,980 

6.4 

19,300 



In conclusion of this part of our subject we may call attention to the fol- 
lowing summary of important facts: 

I. CAPITALIST CONCENTRATION IN MANUFACTURE. 

Leaving out of Table A the four industries (blacksmitning, cooperage, 
saddlery and tinsmithing) that are still almost entirely carried on either t>y 
individual artisans or by smftll firms, we find that the 17 remaining industries 



in that table and the 20 in Table B ahowed in the aggregate a net deereaae of 
1S,928 establlsbmentH, as agalnBt an increase of capital amounting to 
f 1,664,383,281, aa follows: 



Agricultural implements 

Carpets and rugs 

Chemicals 

Cordage and twine 

Cotton goods 

Flouring and grist mills 

Iron ana steel 

Iron and steel pipe, wrought 

Leather, tanned and curried , . , ; 

Liquors, distilled 

Liquors, malt 

Lumber from logs 

Shlphuilding 

Soap and candles 

Tobacco, chewing, smoking and BnutC . . . 

Woolen goods 

Boots and shoea (factory product) 

Brick and tile 

Car construction shops 

Coffee and spice, roasting and grinding . 

Fertilizers 

Foundry and machine shops 

Furniture and upholstering 

Gold, reducing and refining 

Hosiery and knit goods 

Ironwork, architectural 

Jewelry 

Paints 

Petroleum refining 

Shirts 

Silk and silk goods 

Slaughtering and meat packing 

Worsted goods 

Total 



|S3,204,32A 
16.740,265 
26.433,994 
16.645,544 

134,616.049 
31,111,622 

142,606,134 
16,492,S0Z 
17,161.122 
6,758.581 

139,263.066 

316,153,846 
36,132.897 
33,413,200 
10.379.775 



52,288,283 
54,904.960 

39,188,007 
10,629,617 
22,680.608 
228,278,863 
37,699,907 
3,946,297 
36,028,147 



20,51 



r.975 



10.815.344 
20.463,911 
60,090.560 
.7,431,833 
31.882,237 
SS,69G,S53 
47,711,078 
-15,928 I (1,864,383,281 



Among the above industries those that ebow the largest numerical de- 
crease o( establishments— namely, Flouring and grist mills, Leather tanned 
and curried, Lumber from logs. Shipbuilding, and Wooleme— are those In which 
there are still a greater or less number of small eatabllahmenta. whose capital 
does not Increase and the number of wtilch will steadily contlnae to diminish 
until they are entirely wiped out by the concentration ot capital in the In- 



— 174 — 

dustries to which they respectively belcmg. Among those that show an in- 
crease, the machine shops, furniture establishments, and some others (as 
already stated elsewhere) are now undergoing a similar process and will soon 
show similar results. These remarks also apply to many indnstries that are 
not enumerated in the above table but are in similar conditions. 

Again, some of the above industries, that are carried on exclusively upon a 
large scale, show an increase numerically small but relatively large. These 
(and some others not enumerated in the above table but similarly situated) are 
— or rather were in 1890 — in the stage of development immediately preceding 
trustification. A rush of capital and capitalists into profitable industries leads 
at first to unprofitable competition, soon followed by extra profitable amalga- 
mation. 

From the industries turning out in 1890 a total product valued at more 
than $30,000,000, we might pass to those of less real or apparent magnitude, 
many of which are considerable or sufficiently developed, capitalistically, to 
have entered since 1890, or to be now entering, the trust stage of their eco- 
nomic evolution. But a more lengthy statement of the results of the extensive 
investigation which we have made might prove tedious to the student without 
compensation, as it would only accentuate the facts and tendeiicies already 
brought out with enough clearness and emphasis in the preceding pages. 



n. SMAIiliKESS OF THE CLEKICAIi FORCE IN MAKTJFACTTTBE, AHB 

MEANING OF THIS FA(?T. 

From the "Comparative Summary" at the head of this chapter it appears 
that while the number of establishments in 1890 was 355,401, the number oi 
officers of corporations, firm members and clerks was 461,049, the difference 
between these two numbers being 105,648. 

It is to be regretted that the clerks were not in all cases enumerated 
separately, for a question is here involved which is of considerable im- 
port, as we shall presently perceive. 

According to the above returns, on the necessary supposition that there was 
at least one firm member or officer per establishment, the possible in*-riwi i^«i 
number of clerks was 105,648. Small as this figure may seem a priori,, it is 
probably above rather than below the actual one and affords another striking 
illustration of the concentration of capital. Most of the great establishments 
in manufacturing industry, like those in commerce and transportation, hare 
adopted the corporate form and are conducted by "officers." Their number 
is limited and they are, with comparatively few exceptions, the only ones 
that can afford to hire clerks. The industries in which the number of establish- 
ments is greatest employ no clerks or very few. Such, for instance, are the 
carpenters, the masons and other '*boss" mechanics in the building trades, the 
blacksmiths, most of the custom and repairing shoemakers, the bakers and 
retail confectioners, the country millers and lumbermen, the custom dress- 
makers and milliners, many tailors, cigarmakers, cabinetmakers, small ma- 
chinists, printers, etc., etc. A list can be made of such industries, comprisins 
nearly 250,000 "establishments," while in other branches there are still many 
■mall employers struggling for life against powerful rivals and whose busineBs 
is not sufficiently extensive or profitable to allow of expenditure f6r clerical 
service. With the present conditions and inevitable fate of all this deteriorating 



I 



— 175 — 

middle class we have dealt at length in our Chapters on "The Classes," the 
"Progress of Bankruptcy" and the "Trusts." But the particular fact here 
brought out, that the number of clerks in the manufacturing and mechanical 
industries is comparatively small, should be kept in mind, not only because 
of its significance, but because it is a factor in the computation, made below, 
of the proportions in which the value of the net product of those industries is 
divided between "Capital and Labor" — that is, between the idle capitalist and 
the overworked laborers. 

III. NET PRODUCT OF MANTJFACTUBING INDUSTRY. 

By this expression, "the net product of manufacturing and mechanical 
industries," is meant the value added by the labor employed in those industries 
to the materials upon which it is exerted and the value of which has been 
produced by the previous labor of other workers. 

For the industries reported in 1880 and 1890, respectively, the account 
stood as follows: 

1890. 1880. 

Gross product 19,370,107,624 $5,369,579,191 

Materials 5,158,868,353 3,396,823,549 

Net product $4,211,239,271 $1,972,755,842 

Two important facts must right here be noted. 

In the first place, the materials represented 63 per cent, of the gross product 
in 1880 and only 55 per cent, in 1890. This difference was mainly brought about 
by the simultaneous action of two chief causes, namely: (1) A marked decline 
in the prices of various materials, especially the cruder ones, such as cereals, 
cotton, pig iron, etc.; and (2) the progress of art in industry, the greater per- 
fection of finished products and other factors of the same order, most of which 
were developed by the more luxurious living of the wealthy. 

In the second place, computed in money the average net product per per- 
son employed was about 24 per cent, greater in 1890 than in 1880. This, how- 
ever, does not give an adequate idea of the actual increase in quantity; that 
is, in the efficiency or productive capacity of the average worker, chiefly re- 
sulting from the improvement of machinery and the division and subdivision 
of labor. In all the commodities that may be called "capitalistic" (because 
they are bought, used, consumed or preserved exclusively by the capitalist 
class), there was a large fall of prices from 1880 to 1890. Had the prices re- 
mained the same the net product, computed in money, would appear much 
larger. It is safe to say that even among the industries that were least affected 
by machinery, there were hardly any in which the quantity of product per 
worker did not increase more than 24 per cent. In tlie clothing trades, for 
example, the intensity of toil consequent upon the sweating system was the 
only new operating force of considerable power, yet made the worker yield 
fully 50 per cent, more product than formerly. In iron and steel and many 
other industries revolutionized by invention, the increase was phenomenal. 
Our conclusion, resting upon a mass of data which cannot be presented here, 
is moderately expressed by the statement, that the general productive capacity 
of labor in manufacturing and mechanical industry has certainly been more 
than doubled in the ten years under consideration. 



— 176 — 

IV. PIVISION OP THE NET PBODUCT. 

Accepting as the actual number of clerks the possible maximum of 105,648 
above referred to and granting to each the average salary of $850, given by the 
census to the persons enumerated together under the general head of "Officers, 
firm members and clerks," we find that the net product of manufacturing in- 
dustry computed in money, wholesale value at the works — that is, at a price 
much inferior to that which the workers must subsequently have paid for the 
things they purchased — was divided as follows in 1890: 

To wage workers: — Totals. Percent. 

Wages of operatives $1,890,908,747 44.90 

Salaries of clerks 89,800,800 2.13 

Total to wage workers $1,980,709,547 47.03 

To capitalists: 

Salaries of officers and firm members $ 302,113,718 7.17 

Profits of idle capitalists 1,928,416,006 45.80 

Total to capitalists $2,230,529,724 52.97 



Deductions, however, amounting in the aggregate to about $300,000,000, 
should be made from the profits of capital for taxes, actual losses by fire or 
water, and repairs of buildings and machinery. But, contrary to an absurd 
notion which is very widely prevailing, no deduction whatever should be made 
for such items as rent, interest, cost of insurance above actual destruction of 
property, failures, etc. In relation to this matter we may here repeat what 
we said elsewhere: "We sometimes hear it said, quite seriously and most 
honestly, even by men who know more than the four fundamental rules of 
arithmetic, that certain items, such as rent and interest, are part of the cost 
of production and should therefore, like the materials used, be deducted from 
the value of the product at the works. But it is self-evident that they are 
simply a part of the profits made upon production by the various owners of 
the means of producing. Therefore, while such items are unquestionably of 
paramount importance to those among the more direct employers of labor, 
who, financially weak, must pay a part of the profits of production to money 
lenders, real estate owners, merchants, etc., they do not in the least alter the 
share of capital as a whole; they simply alter the proportions in which this 
shafe is divided among the capitalists." 

V. SHABE OF LABOR IN ITS PBODUCT. 

We have, so far, considered only the account of the workers in manu- 
facturing^ industries, as a body, with the capitalists who, as a body, are the 
direct employers of those workers. What the individual accounts of those par- 
ticular capitalists may be among themselves or with other capitalists is a 
matter which concerns themselves alone, individually. Under all circum- 
stances the fact remains that for every hundred dollars* worth of merchan- 
dise, factory price, which they produced, the workers received in the good wage 
year 1890, the sum of $47.03 in money. 

And once more mark this well, for it is of fundamental importance. 
They did not receive 47.03 per cent, of their product in kind; they received 
$47.03 in money; which is a very different thing, as we shall now see. 



— 177 — 

The hatmaker, for instance, who made 200 hats valued in the aggregate 
$100 at the works, factory price, did not receive 94 hats or their equivalent 
in flour, meat and other commodities; he received $47, with which he could 
probably buy on the retail market 47 hats only, or their equivalent in other 
commodities. 

The fact is that not until the last market is reached — the market on 
which consumers must buy — does the capitalistic process of dividing and sub- 
dividing among capitalists the surplus value produced by the workers come 
to an end. The difference between the factory price and the retail price is 
made up in small part of the cost of the labor employed in transporting and 
distributing the product, but in much greater part represents that portion of 
surplus value which the direct employers of labor must abandon to the capital- 
ists engaged in trade. They "must" abandon that portion, simply because 
the capital of the traders, used in carrying stocks of merchandise, is a factor 
in the capitalistic process of production and, as such, is entitled to the benefits 
of that process. Should the hat manufacturer establish a retail store, he 
would certainly sell his hats at the price which the retailer can get. Of every 
200 hats made by his workpeople he would get 153 (less the cost of retailing) 
and his workpeople would get 47; whereas, as matters stand, he gets 53, the 
transporters, commission merchants and retailers (together with the capitalists 
directly or indirectly associated with them as stockholders, money lenders, 
business real estate owners, etc.) get 100 (less the cost of the labor employed 
by them), and the work people who made the hats get anyhow 47. 

We have just said that under our supposition as to the difference between 
the factory price and the retail price the wage working hatmaker gets only 
47 hats (or, of course, the equivalent thereof in other commodities) for every 
200 hats which he turns out; in other words, that he gets 23% per cent, of the 
actual value of his product. But upon further inquiry we find that he does 
not even get that, unless the space which his proletarian body occupies on 
this planet and the shelter which he must first procure be deemed an honest 
labor equivalent for the rent which he must pay to the landlord. 

In making up a concrete example for the sake of reasoning, we have 
supposed that the retail price was double the factory price; a supposition 
approximately correct in the case of hats but no doubt inapplicable to many 
other products, the prices of which are variously enhanced from 10 per cent, 
or less to 1,000 per cent, or more in passing from the place of production to 
the place of consumption. Again, with a view to simplification, we have tem- 
porarily neglected in our example the important item of materials, thus assum- 
ing that the hat in its entirety was the product of the hatmaker. Of course, 
in order to arrive at a fairly correct estimate of the share of labor in its product, 
all the factors should be taken into account. 

Now, according to the census, the average money value of the materials 
entering into the factory price of the finished product at the works is 55 per 
cent., and the remaining 45 per cent., or so-called net product, is divided not 
in kind, but in money between the manufacturers and their employees in the 
proportion of $53 to the employers for every $47 that their employees receive. 
In other words, of every $100 paid by merchants for manufactures, factory 
price at the works, $55 go to the producers of materials (including capitalists 
and workers engaged in this line of production); $21.15 go to the working 
people engaged in manufacturing industry, and $23.85 go to the manufacturing 



— 178 — 

capitalists. Let the retail price, which is the final money value of the finished 
product, be only 50 per cent higher than the factory price, we shall have the 
following account: 



Persons aiuoug whom the value of the 
flnislied product is divided. 

To the producers of materials 

To the workmen in manufacturing industry 

To the manufacturing capitalists, 

To the traders, including the labor employed by 
them 

Total 



1 


Retail price 

of fliiished 

product. 


Per cent. 

of retail 

price. 




$55.00 
21.15 
23.85 

50.00 


36.67 




14.10 
15.90 


ed by 


33.33 








$150.00 


100.00 







That on an average the retail price of the commodities consumed by the 
masses of the people is fully 50 per cent, higher than the factory price, prob- 
ably no one will undertake to deny. Any person conversant with the subject 
will consider such an average as rather excessively conservative than fairly 
moderate. We have personally made extensive researches in this field of 
inquiry — the most extensive on record in the city of New York and covering 
the period of thirteen years, 1880 — 1892. We have carefully compared our 
results with those of similar investigations conducted by statisticians of high, 
repute; and we know for certain that in accepting this average as a basis of 
computation the only risk we run is to make the share of labor in its product 
appear greater than it actually is. 

On that basis, as the above figures show, we first find that the workers en- 
gaged in manufacturing and mechanical industries receive in payment for 
their labor an amount of money with which they can buy on the retail market 
an amount of commodities representing 14.10 per cent, of the "gross product" 
upon which their labor has been spent. In this gross product, however, is also 
embodied a certain amount of other labor, supplied in part by producers of 
materials and in part by workers in trade and transportation. In order to 
get what we are after — namely, the share of manufacturing labor in its "net 
product** — these two quantities of other labor, embodied also in the "gross 
product," must obviously be taken into account. 

Here, however, a difficulty arises. The census supplies no direct data 
from which these two particular quantities can be ascertained. Nevertheless, 
the problem is not insoluble. 

In the first place it may safely be taken for granted that the 55 per cent, 
of the gross product of manufactures, factory price (or 36.67 per cent, of the 
same, retail price) paid by the manufacturing capitalists to the capitalists 
engaged in the production and transportation of materials, represent the full 
value of those materials on the last market; in other words, that it includes 
the surplus value created by the labor that produced and transported them, 
and that the whole of this surplus value, whatever it may have been, was duly 
appropriated by the particular capitalists who employed this particular labor. 
Therefore, by deducting $55 (cost of materials) from $150 (retail price of the 
finished product), we have a remainder of $95, which is exclusively the net 
product of the joint labor of the work people in manufacturing and mechanical 
industries and of those in trade and transportation who handle the finished 



— 179 ~ 

products of those industries. We know the quantity of manufacturing labor 
which enters into the finished product. The question now is therefore re- 
duced to this: "What is the quantity of trade and transportation labor added 
to that product in its passage from the factory to the last market?" 

In the absence of positive census data we must answer with an estimate. 
Obviously, the quantity in question cannot relatively be large. The labor of 
transporting and selling a pair of shoes, a suit of clothes, a hat, a barrel of 
flour, a can of preserved meat, fish or fruit, a set of furniture, or any other 
necessary that has undergone a manufacturing process, is small as compared 
with the labor required for producing it. When we come to costly fabrics, 
watches, jewelry, or to such products as sewing machines or agricultural im- 
plements — not to speak of such highly capitalistic commodities as mill ma- 
chinery, locomotives, etc., which are usually bought directly at the works at 
factory prices without passing through the hands of dealers — we find that the 
amount of such labor is actually an infinitesimal quantity. Of course, owing 
to the wasteful methods of distribution that are still largely prevailing, sup- 
plemented in many products by trafficking practices of a purely speculative 
character, there is much labor needlessly wasted in the operations of com- 
merce and a consequent social loss of productive human forces. But while 
this socially criminal waste affects the individual capitalists who commit 
it, and to its extent reduces their own individual profits, it no more is a factor 
in determining the price at which they must sell, or the quantity of surplus 
value produced by useful necessary labor, than is their expenditure in frivol- 
ities.* On the other hand, the useful necessary labor of transportation and 
distribution is unquestionably a factor; but, as previously observed, it is a 
comparatively small one. In estimating it at ten per cent, of that which is re- 
quired for the conversion of materials into finished products, and in further- 
more liberally applying to it the same average rate of wages as in manufactur- 
ing industry, we need not apprehend that any competent person may deem our 
figure too low. 

If this be admitted, we find that the above stated net value of $95 is 
distributed as follows between the workers who jointly produced it, as a body 
on one side, and the capitalists who, as a body on the other side, owned the 
means of employing those workers: 



Persons among wliom the net product is divided. 

To the workers in manufacturing industry 

To the additional workers engaged in transporting 
and selling the finished product 

Total to the workers 

Total to the capitalists 

Grand total 



Net product. 



$21.15 
2.12 



$23.27 
71.73 



$95.00 



Per cent, of 
net product. 



22.27 
2.23 



24.50 
75.50 



100.00 



It may be taken for granted that the labor engaged in the production 
and transportation of materials, most of which is unskilled and lowest paid 



* On this important and interesting subject much more might be said, that we must 
omit here for the sake of brevity, but that will no doubt suggest itself to the thoughtful 
reader. 



— 180 — 

of all, did not get a larger share of its net product than did of its own the JBore 
skilled and better i>aid labor in manufacturing and trade. As shown by the 
above figures, the share of the latter in the values which it actually pro- 
duces is only 24.50 per cent. Our general conclusion, therefore, is that the 
fihare of Labor in its Product is hardly One-Quarter of that product. 

VI. COMPABATIVE <'£ABNIHGS" OF WAGE WOBKEBS AHD FBOFIT 

We may properly supplement the foregoing facts and considerations with 
a statement that vividly illustrates the distributive workings of Capitalism. 
The following table shows the average annual earnings of each wage worker 
and the average annual profits of each employer in twenty great industries, 
according to the census of 1890; some of the industries therein mentioned 
being those in which the earnings of labor were highest: 



InduB tries. 

Iron and steel 

Boots and shoes, leather (factory). 

Cotton goods 

Worsted goods 

Silk and silk goods 

Rubber goods 

Tobacco, chewing, smoking and snuff 

Sewing machines 

Horseshoes (factory product) 

Beer 

Fertilizers 

Women's clothing (factory) 

Paints 

Pianomaking 

Boots and shoes, rubber 

Bicycles 

Brass and copper, rolled 

Silverware 

Slaughtering and meat packing 

Chemicals 



For the 


For the 


worker. 


bofis. 


$531 


1242,000 


453 


19,800 


301 


52,000 


348 


94,700 


359 


39,000 


399 


28,000 


233 


75,000 


538 


77,000 


510 


118,000 


684 


95,000 


378 


27,000 


394 


15,000 


535 


18,000 


673 


29,000 


417 


288,000 


546 


32,000 


511 


94,000 


697 


72,000 


545 


75,000 


486 


32,000 



Vn. '^SAVINGS" AND WASTE OF THE CAPITAIiIST CLASS. 

We have previously seen that, according to the census returns of 1890, 
the net profits collected in that year by the direct employers of manufacturing 
and mechanical labor, and a portion of which had to be distributed by these 
among the various money lenders^ real estate owners, etc., whose capital was 
directly or indirectly engaged in manufacturing and mechanical industries, 
amounted in the aggregate to about 11,928,000,0000, after making all legitimate 
deductions for taxes, repairs and destruction of property. A similar com- 
putation would show that, allowing 1150,000,000 for corresponding legitimate 
deductions, those profits were $874,000,000 in 1880; so that (supposing the in- 
crease to have been regular and gradual) the annual average for the ten 



— 181 — 

years 1880—1890 was about $1,400,000,000, or fourteen billions for the whole 
period. Yet we find that the increase of capital in those industries during 
that period was less than four billions, leaving ten billions unaccounted for. 
What became of this enormous sum? 

No sensible portion of it can have been applied to the development of 
other economic branches, such as agriculture, transportation or commerce, 
since the profits of the capitalists engaged in these branches were likewise 
far more than sufficient to provide for any required increase of the capital 
engaged therein. We are, in fact, confronted with the same question as to 
what became of the enormous portion of the profits which cannot be accounted 
for by an increase of capital. 

The only possible answer is that the capitalist tribe had to live, and lived 
well. With an annual income of one billion from the manufacturing and 
mechanical product alone it could afford to waste and did waste right royally. 
And under the capitalist system it was meet that this class did so waste to 
its heart's content; for, what would otherwise have become of all the labor 
engaged in the production of luxuries and in domestic service and in artistic 
pursuits and in many professions? No wonder it is that this class poses as 
the benefactor of mankind and the advance agent of civilization. Who can 
so liberally dance for charity, dine at Seeley's for the elevation of art and 
attend Bradley-Martin parties for the benefit of diamond cutters, goldsmiths, 
silk weavers, dressmakers, upholsterers and all suchlike hungry people, whose 
tirust of bread lies at the bottom of imperial magnificence. No magnificence, 
no bread. So says Matthew Marshall, of the New York "Sun," and, given 
capitalism, this wiseacre is right. 

It is, indeed, a law of the capitalist system — a law the mere statement of 
which might instantly cause a social upheaval if the understanding of those 
who hear it were as broad as their ears are long — that the plane of life of the 
wage-working class, ever so low must fall lower with every improvement in 
the machinery and methods of production, unless the capitalist class keeps 
on increasing its waste of wealth in direct proportion to the increase of the 
productive power at its command. 



VIII. LAND VALUES IN MANTJFACTTJBES. 

The total capital of manufacturing and mechanical industries was com- 
posed as follows in 1890: 



Items. j Sams. 


Per cent, 
of total 
capital. 


Value of plant:— 
Land 


1775,713,649 

878,832,137 

1,584,155,710 


11.89 


Buildings 


13.47 


Machinerv. tools and implements 


24 28 






Total value of plant 


$3,238,701,496 
3,285,773,809 


49 64 


Live assets: — 
Merchandise, accounts, notes, money, etc 


50.36 


Grand total capital 


$6,524,475,305 100.00 



The foregoing table is so suggestive of important conclusions that we 
must call special attention to it. 



— 182 — 

In the first place U shows that the value of land, upon which the single- 
taxers rest their imaginary scheme for the salvation and perpetuation of the 
middle class, is a relatively small factor in manufacturing industry, amount- 
ing to less than 12 per cent, of the total capital engaged in that branch of 
production. It may be added that its power as a factor is constantly declining 
with the expansion of the factory system and the concentration of industry, less 
land being needed for one large establishment than for many small ones. 
Striking illustrations of this general fact are afforded by the industries in which 
custom work has survived the introduction of the factory system, even though 
the methods of the latter have necessarily to a large extent affected the 
methods of the former. In the following industries, for instance, the per- 
centage of land value in the capital of custom work establishments on one 
side, and of factories on the other side, compared as follows: 

Per ceDt. 
Industries. of land 

in capital. 
Boots and shoes: — 

Custom work 20.3 

Factory product 2.3 

Men's clothing: — 

Custom work 7.7 

Factory product 1.6 

Women's clothing: — 

Custom work 18.3 

. Factory product 2.6 

Furniture: — 

Custom work 12.5 

Factory product 9.4 

Again, in such industries as blacksmithing, bread-baking, which are still 
largely in the middle-class stage, the land occupied by the establishments 
represents about 21 per cent, of their total capital, whereas the proportion 
Is only 4. 3 in agricultural implements, 8.4 in iron and steel, 6.5 in cotton mills. 
4.7 in woolen and worsted mills, 3.3 ki silk mills, etc., all of which have reached 
a high stage of capitalistic development and concentration. It may further 
be observed that the forests from which a number of saw mills derive their 
timber, and some of the ore, gas and clay lands from which a number of iron, 
gas and brick works get a part of their prime materials, constitute four-tenths 
of the total value of the land credited by the census to the manufacturing 
industries as owners or tenants. 

IX. MACHINEBY. 

It may rightly be claimed that no matter how small the portion of manu- 
facturing capital invested in land may be or become, some of it must be so 
invested, and, therefore, that land is an indispensable factor. It may also 
be correctly observed that when several things are necessary to accomplish 
a certain result, it were idle to ask which of them contributed most to that 
result. On this ground, all the component parts of manufacturing capital — 
namely, land, buildings, machinery and "live assets" — being indispensable, none 
of them can be considered more important than the others as factors of pro- 
duction, regardless of their respective value. But the pending question between 



— 183 — 

Capitalism and Socialism is not as to what things are necessary to carry on 
production of any sort. The question is simply as to the means through 
which these necessary things are obtained by some persons to the exclusion of 
others. Now, it is quite plain that he who owns land and buildings and stocks 
of merchandise but inferior machinery must in the end lose all his posses- 
sions to him^ who, similarly conditioned in other respects, has the advantage 
of superior mechanical appliances. Manifestly, then, machinery is the con- 
trolling factor in the distribution of wealth under the present economic 
system. It is through its economic operation, as determined in its mode by 
the private ownership feature of that system, that not only in manufacture and 
tranw>rtation, which need but little land in proportion to their other re- 
quirements, but in agriculture, where land is the component of chief value, 
men otherwise inferior to none are driven out of competition and finally dis- 
possessed. Again it is through its operation that the wage worker's labor 
power is depreciated by the very increase of his efficiency, and that, the item 
of "live assets" in the capital of his employers, including among other things 
his own necessaries of life and comprising only a part of the surplus value 
which he produces, is steadily swelling in an even greater ratio that any other 
portion of that capital. 

Machinery itself — which is thus used by its possessors as a double-edged 
instrument, with one side of which they cut out for their own idle persons 
a constantly larger share of the increasing product, while cutting down with 
the other side the meagre pittance of the overworked producers — machinery 
itself, we say, is of course a part of the surplus value created by the workers 
and appropriated by the capitalists. How large a portion of this surplus value 
is embodied in that mighty weapon, it were at least interesting to know. 

According to the last figures above given, the total money value of the 
machinery, tools and implements used in manufacturing and mechanical in- 
dustries was $l,584,000,00a in 1890, or about 24 per cent, of the total capital 
employed in those industries. On the other hand, we had previously seen 
(under the head, "Division of the Net Product"), that the net profits of manu- 
facturing capitalists, all legitimate deductions having been made for taxes, 
repairs, etc, amounted to about $1,930,000,000. 

Therefore, the manufacturing and mechanical workers produced in 
one year, over and above their own sustenance, a net value, factory price, 
exceeding by f 346,000,000 the whole cost of the machinery by means of 
which they were exploited and through which they and their posterity 
will keep enslaved until Capitalism is abolished. 



We shall now present, in statistical form, the condition of the leading 
manufacturing and mechanical industries in 1890, classified in general groups, 
according to their nature, correlation, or object. 



MACHINE 


SHOP PBODTJCTS 


IN 1890. 




Industries. 

• 


Number of 
establish- 
ments. 


Capital. 


Namber of 
employees. 


Materials. 


^1 


Agricultural implements 

Bells 




910 $145,313,997 
22 590.420 


42,544 131,603,265 
430 389.701 


$81,271,651 
823.010 








, 




' 1 





— 184 — 



Indnstries. 



ait 



Capital. 



•H 

o 


9> 


(■> 





o 


>> 


,0 





e 


r^ 


P 


0< 


^ 





Materials. 



3| 

p« 



Brass castings 

Bronze castings 

Carriage and wagon materials 

Car and construction shops of steam 

R. R. Co's 

Car and construction shops (not of 

steam R. R. Co's) 

Car and construction shops of street 

R. R. Co's 

Car and construction shops (not of 

street R. R. Co's) 

Clocks 

Cutlery and edge tools 

Electrical apparatus and supplies 

Piles 

Firearms 

Foundries and machine shops, not 

otherwise specified 

Gas and lamp fixtures 

Gas machines and meters 

Gas stoves >.... 

Hand stamps 

Hardware 

Hardware, saddlery 

Horse shoes, factory product 

Iron and steel bolts, etc 

Iron and steel forgings 

Lock and gun smithing 

Plumbers' supplies 

Pumps (not steam) 

Refrigerators 

Registers, car fare 

Registers, cash 

Safes and vaults 

Saws 

Scales and balances 

Screws, machine 

Screws, wood 

Sewing machines and attachments 

Sewing machine repairing 

Springs, steel 

Steam fittings and heating apparatus.. 

Stencils and brands 

Tools, not elsewhere specified 

Typewriters 

Ventilators 

Washing machines, etc 

Watches 

Wire work, rope and cable 



453 

14 

539 

716 

71 

78 

17 

27 

474 

189 

140 

34 

6,475 

108 

38 

24 

234 

350 

102 

4 

82 

90 

1,308 

122 

256 

82 

7 

5 

39 

95 

76 

20 

7 

59 

166 

57 

217 

106 

462 

30 

15 

163 

19 

569 



18.663,286 

710,190 

13,d28,161 

76,192,477 

43,641,210 

2,351,162 

2,468,315 
5,727,202 
12,082.638 
18.997,337 
2,991,988 
4,672,424 

382,798,337 

7,218,964 

1,603,426 

1,1^9,528 

998,873 

26,271,840 

3,376,356 

1,299,065 

10,789,821 

7,152,145 

1,867,220 

9,678,107 

3.540,097 

3,367,329 

74,725 

292,150 

4,603,118 

6,313.373 

1,658,655 

1,672.343 

6,572,237 

16,043.136 

192.593 

3,459,422 

17,017,364 

445,165 

11.376,622 

1,421,783 

175,225 

1,712,953 

10,106,114 

11,757,902 



U,903 

311 

10,928 

108,585 

32,062 

2,034 

1,833 
3,585 
9,487 
9.485 
2,666 
2,759 

247,754 
6,530 
1,071 
1,031 
1,068 
19,671 
3,179 

493 
7,341 
4,448 
2,560 
6,485 
2,140 
2,373 

101 

742 
4,131 
2,943 
1,500 
1,U3 
1,661 
9,121 

336 

1,892 

11,779 

499 
7,095 
1,736 

206 
1,239 
6,675 
7,919 



1 



12,249,607 

695,485 

7,387,904 

66,661,526 

44,674,486 

1,154,840 

1,699,235 
1,457,778 
3,466,124 
8,819,498 
1,038,943 
485,946 

171,145,166 

2.208,124 

676,542 

840,126 

432,687 

10,186,442 

1,624,849 

519,449 

6,746,304 

4,875.697 

822.557 

5,853,709 

1,681,275 

2,377,958 

32,618 

222,576 

2.635.313 

2,346,401 

867,955 

331,701 

900,676 

3,502,173 

86,816 

2,219,408 

10,628,314 

167,690 

3,517,269 

632,723 

185,629 

1,364,550 

995,740 

8,326,436 



24,344,434 

1,166,163 

16,262,293 

129,461,698 

70,083,737 

2.966,347 

3,302,115 
4,228,846 
11,110,614 
19,114,714 
3,179,649 
2,922,514 

412,701,872 
7,825,672 
1,838,644 
2,137,944 
1,683,872 

26,726,463 
4,118,196 
1,110,032 

12,373,031 
9,042,663 
3,153,834 

11,960,464 
4,103,410 
4,513,616 
141,320 
1,281,600 
6,641,844 
6,672,992 
2,322.744 
1,183,341 
2,326,645 

12,823,147 

385,941 

4,331,571 

23,147,434 
732,611 

10.628,025 

3,630,126 

466.413 

2.489,175 

6,051,066 

16,662,867 



Total I 15,071 I $902,486,795 | 503,431 | $430,626,000 | $973,024,149 



It is estimated: 1. That of the total annual product of machine shops 
about 1400,000,000 worth consists in improved machines and implements des- 
tined to replace inferior ones in old establishments or intended for new plants, 
railroads, etc.; 2. that the productive power thus annually gained is equal to 



— 185 — 

the productive power of 4,000,000 men working with the machinery of fifty 
years ago; 3. that the additional cost of running this improved machinery and 
obtaining from it this additional power is equal to the sum which 4,000,000 
workers would earn if they were paid at the rate of 8 cents per day of ten 
hours. In the face of such facts, what becomes of the immigration question? 

THE CLOTHINa INDTJSTBY IN 1800. 



Industries. 



:j oD p 



Capital. 



O q) 

U 9 

s a 



Materials. 



o "d 

^ 2 

0< 



Mea's clothing, factory product 

Men's clothing, buttonholes, factory 
product 

Men's clothing, custom work and re- 
pairing 

Women's clothing, factory product.... 

Women's clothing, dressmaking 

Shirts, factory product 

Millinery and lace goods, fao'y product 

Millinery, custom work 

Artificial flowers and feathers 

Corsets 

Furnishing goods, men's 

Fur goods 

Hats and caps 

Straw hats, bonnets, etc 

Wool hats 

Hat and cap materials 

Gloves and mittens 

Hosiery 

Hooks and eyes 

Buttons 

Collars and cuffs, paper 

Needles and pins 

Umbrellas and canes 



I 



4,867 

200 

13,591 

1,224 

19,587 

869 

278 

5,999 

251 

206 

586 

484 

705 

6 

32 

73 

324 

796 

10 

106 

3 

45 

435 



I 



$128,253,547 

190,118 

54,109.273 

21,259.528 

12.883.079 

14,273,611 

6,630.210 

16,309.220 

3,081,828 

6,640.056 

12,299,011 

11.115,840 

13.724.002 

106.750 

4.142,224 

1,709,650 

5,977.820 

50,607.738 

449,618 

8,089,266 

237,764 

1,820,069 

5.646,289 



166,341 

1,373 

86,143 

42,008 

67.598 

32,750 

11,827 

23.976 

6,836 

11,370 

22.211 

8,076 

27,193 

433 

8.692 

1,705 

8,669 

61.209 

243 

4,036 

91 

1,680 

6.863 



I 



$128,846,857 

84.167 

50,494.637 

34,277,219 

23,393.829 

15.704,353 

8,688.342 

18,756,776 

4,645,850 

6.662,140 

15.280.572 

11,742^,508 

16.160,802 

134,945 

2.802.041 

2,059.001 

5.021.144 

35,861.585 

325,615 

1.561.603 

223,077 

450,442 

7.562.921 



$251,019,609 

784,055 

126,219.151 

68.164,019 

57.071,732 

33,638,593 

18.047.067 

36.983.082 

9,078.683 

12,401,575 

29,870,946 

20,526.988 

37,311,599 

329,987 

5.329.921 

3.465.524 

7,474,911 

67,241,013 

593.604 

4.216.795 

301,093 

1,515.865 

13.771,927 



Total. 



I 50,676 I $374,666,530 | 686,221 | $389,630,426 { $806,367,773 



THE TEXTILE INDTJSTBIES IN 1800. 



InduBtrics. 



Carpets and rugs 

Cotton goods 

Dyeing and finishing textiles. 

Linen goods' 

Shoddy 

Silk and silk goods 

Woolen goods 

Worsted goods , 




173 

906 

248 

3 

94 

472 

1,3U 

143 



$ 38,208.842 

354,020.843 

38.450,800 

908.589 

3.754.063 

61,007,637 

130.989.940 

68.086.116 



29,121 

221,586 

20,267 

683 

2,299 

50.913 

79.361 

43.593 



Materials. 



$ 28.644,905 

164.912.979 

12.386,220 

268,907 

6,003,035 

51.004,425 

82,270,336 

50.706,769 



^ s 

o 'd 



$ 47,770,193 

267,981,724 

28.900,560 

547,273 

7.887.000 

87.298,454 

133,577,977 

79,194,662 



Total I 3,349 | $686,425,730 | 447,712 | $386,196,575 | $653,157,833 



— 186 — 



With the exception of carpets, most of the product of the textile industries 
— certainly not less and probably more than three-quarters of it — is used in 
the making of clothing. A body of at least 800,000 workers, — or about 1 in 80 of 
population — was therefore required in 1890 to provide the people of this country 
with the necessary — or luxury, as the case may be — called raiment. But this 
does not include the large amount of labor employed in the production of the 
raw materials, such as cotton, silk, wool, flax, etc., not to speak of the grasses 
and other adulterants that the capitalists, with the aid of chemistry and ma- 
chinery, are able to convert into textiles not less beautiful if less serviceable 
than the genuine articles. Nor does it include the labor engaged in the 
transportation and sale of clothing. 



THE BTJILDINO INDTJSTBY IN 1890. 
(Including its Chief Materials) 



Industries. 



©St: 

ill 



CapitaL 



^ 


• 


h* 


o 


o 


>> 


,o 


p 


E 


'3, 




a 


^ 


§ 



Materials. 



Pi 



Mechanical industries:— 

Carpentering 

Masonry, brick and stone 

Monuments and tombstones 

Painting and paperhanging 

Paving and paving materials..., 

Plastering and stuccowork 

Plumbing and gas fitting 

Roofing and roofing materials.. 
Wood turning and carving 

Total mechanical industries. 



16,917 

5.969 

2,052 

10,043 

704 

1,746 

5,327 

2,140 

872 



$81,542,845 


140,021 


51,660,111 


108,406 


13,073,232 


12,101 


23,135,781 


66,281 


12,648,093 


22,730 


3,309,297 


10,624 


29,335,247 


42,513 


13,303,597 


13,333 


7,826,668 


8,430 



1137.847.002 
91.791,109 

7,636,474 
23,102,359 
13.891.006 

4,416,063 
37,735,671 
14,712,379 

3.947,227 



1281,195.162 
190,704,818 
20,671,498 
74,067,998 
S0,644,072 
13,400,824 
80,906,92^ 
29,412,813 
10,989,647 



45,770 I $235,833,871 I 414,438 { $335,079,279 | $732,002,767 



Building materials:— 

Brick and tile 

Iron and steel doors and shutters... 

Ironwork, architectural 

Lime and cement 

Lumber, planing mill products, in- 
cluding sash, doors and blinds 

Mantels, slate, marble, etc 

Marble and stone work 

Paper hangings 

Total building materials 



5,828 

7 

724 

873 

3,670 

90 

1,321 

27 



$ 82.578,666 


109.151 


42,560 


63 


21,968,172 


18,672 


18,762,396 


13,710 


120,271,440 


86,888 


1,854,759 


1,704 


24,041.961 


23,888 


5,709,909 


2.814 



$ 12.639.597 

29.792 

18,620.610 

5.667,863 

104,926.834 

1.264,667 

16,232.480 

3,672.027 



$ 67,770^695 

88,516 

37,746,294 

15,741,801 

188.081,552 

3.127,662 

41,924,264 

7,431,726 



12,540 $275,219,763. 266,880 $162,943,720 i $367,5U,509 



Grand total building industries. .| 68.310 | $511,053,624 | 671.318 { $498,022,999 | $1,089,514,266 



For the sake of accuracy it should be stated that the whole product of 
planing mills does not enter into buildings. On the other hand, there is a large 
quantity of labor in the forests and in saw mills, not included in the above 
enumeration, engaged in preparing timber which in one form or another is 
used in building operations; and this labor should be added to the figure of 
256,880 given above as the total number of persons employed in the l^roduction 
of building materials. So should also the labor employed in quarrying stone 
and marble. Furthermore, there are several industries omitted from the 
above list, such as nails and spikes, hardware, steam fittings, tinsmithiHg, 
paints, etc., because it is impossible to ascertain with accuracy the proportion 



— 187 — 

of their product that enters into buildings. These will nearly all be found in 
our table of "Machine Shop Products." 

Again, it must be understood that in our grand total the value of the 
largest portion of the building materials is counted twice, namely, once as a 
"product" of the industries that turn out building materials, and once as "ma- 
terials" used by the mechanical industries. Not so, however, with the "num- 
ber of establishments," the "capital" used and the "number of employees," all 
of which it is more especially our purp<xse here to deal with. 

As to the actual value of the buildings erected in the census year 1890, the 
above data are obviously insufficient to calculate it with any degree of approxi- 
mation. At any rate the census returns, we should say, were very incomplete; 
for if a sum of $68,000,000 be added for work or materials directly supplied by 
industries other than the "mechanical," the total product of the latter, as given 
above, being $732,000,000, we would arrive at a grand total of only $800,000,000, 
exclusive, however, of the profits of general contractors; whereas the figures 
published by building departments of great cities, supplemented by trade in- 
formation concerning the progress of building throughout the country, would 
warrant the opinion that it cannot have been short of $1,100,000,000. 



THE BOOT AND SHOE INDTJSTBY 
in 1870, 1880 and 1800. 



I 

Branch of produotioD. ■ 


i 
^ 


Number 
of estab- 
lishments. 


Capital. 


Number 
of emplo- 
yees. 


Materials. 


Total 
product. 


Custom work and repairing 


1870 
1880 
1890 


20,277 
16,013 
20,803 


$11,475,347 
11.364,273 
14,230,081 


44,187 
22,667 
35,046 


$13,079,810 
12,524,133 
10,322,557 


$34,940,035 
30,870,127 
34,531,340 



Factory product 



1870 
1880 
1890 



3,151 
1,959 
2,082 



$37,519,019 
42.994.028 
95,282,311 



91.702 
111,152 
139,333 



$80,502,718 
102,442,442 
118,785,831 



$146,704,055 
166,050,354 
220,649,358 



Grand totals, custom and factory.. 



1870 
1880 
1890 



23,428 
17,972 
22,885 



$48,994,366 

54,358,301 

109,512,392 



135,889 
133,819 
174,379 



$93,582,528 
114,966,575 
129,108,388 



$181,644,090 
196,920,481 
255,180,698 



The foregoing table deserves careful study. It shows some of the phases 
through which an old industry is passing on its evolution from the artisan 
to the factory process of production. Its value is somewhat impaired, how- 
ever, by the fact that the "factory product" of 1890 includes all the "custom 
work" establishments reporting an annual output of $5,000 and over. Had the 
census classification been the same in that year as in 1880 and 1890, the decline 
of the custom work branch of the industry from 1870 to 1880 would have been 
exhibited more strikingly and its apparent recovery during the following 
decade, weak as the above figures make it, would have proved an unreality. 
Nevertheless, as the data stand, we can plainly see in the first place the wiping 
out, from 1870 to 1890, of a large number of custom work and repairing estab- 
lishments, together with a "displacement" — that is, practically, an extermina- 
tion — of one-half of the skilled shoemakers, whose numbers fell from 44,000 
to 22,000, while the number of factory operatives increased 19,5QQ, vQL^V;s5^csiS£^ 



— 188 — 

7,600 women and children. Then, from 1880 to 1890, under unparalleled con- 
ditions of capitalifitlc prosperity, tending to favor the development of higher 
grade custom work,''9re see a desperate irruption of a portion of the skilled 
labor previously difff»l&'<ied, the trade, however, being obviously monopolized 
by a few great custom firms, whose superior means account for the reported 
increase of capital, while the rank and file of the so-called custom work estab- 
lishments are in part of the lowest middle class order and in still greater part 
nothing more than cobbler's shops. 

Of the labor "displacements" that resulted from the transformation accom- 
plished in the boot and shoe industry by the capitalistic factory system, during 
the twenty years under consideration, a still more comprehensive view is 
afforded in the following supplementary table, which speaks for itself: 

Number of Men, Women and Children Employed in the Boot and Shoe 

Industry in 1870, 1880 and 1800. 



Branch of production. 



Year. 



Custom work and repairing..., 

Decrease from 1870 to 1880... 
Decrease from 1870 to 1890... 

Factory product 

Increase from 1870 to 1880 

Decrease from 1870 to 1890... 

Increase from 1870 to 1890 

Net increase from 1870 to 1890 



1870 
1880 
1890 



Males. 



42,727 
21,474 
34,426 



Females. 



905 
824 
497 



GhildreD. 



Total. 



555 
369 
123 



44.187 
22.667 
36.046 



• • • • 

• • • • 


21,253 
8,301 


81 

408 


186 
432 


21.520 
9,141 


1870 
1880 
1890 


70,688 
82.547 
96,270 


18,208 
25,122 
40,418 


2,806 
3,483 
2,645 


91.702 
111.152 
139.333 



11.859 
25,582 



6,914 
22,210 



677 
161 



19^450 



47.631 



From the above figures it appears that, taking together custom work and 
factory product, there was from 1870 to 1890 a net increase of 38,490 employees 
in the whole boot and shoe industry, as follows: A net increase of 17,281 men; 
a net increase of 21,802 women, and a net decrease of 593 children. It more- 
over appears that in the same period 8,301 skilled shoemakers were entirely 
superseded by female operatives. 



THE TBJNTINQ, ENGBAVING AND PTJBLISHINa INDUSTRY 

(including Materials), in 1800. 



Industries. 



Printing and publishing, book and Job. . 
Printing and publishing, newspapers 

and periodicals 

Printing and publishing, music 

Engraving, steel, including plate 

printing 

Engraving, wood 

Lithographing and engraving 

Photolithographing and engraving 



Number 
of estab- 
lishments. 


Capital. 


Number 
of emplo- 
yees. 


Material. 


Total 
product. 


1 
4,098 


1 67,146,445 


58,139 


$29,387,211 


1 93.540.831 


12,362 
79 


126,269,885 
1,816,205 


106,095 
701 


38,955,322 
401,415 


179.869.750 
1.683.333 


134 

285 

219 

89 


2,924,125 

480,990 

15,490,127 

1,134,873 


2,560 

1,286 

10,590 

1,352 


742,765 

157,656 

6,265,464 

541.395 


3.347.804 

1.556.418 

17.988.157 

2.071,680 



— 189 — 



Industries. 






Stereotyping and electrotyping; 

Type founding 

Printing materials (not otherwise 

specified) 

Paper 

Bookbinding and blank-book making.. 



^^§ 



81 
38 

64 
567 
805 



Capital. 



1.332,129 
4,968,309 

1,370,487 
82,374,099 
10,062,034 






1.475 
2,172 

866 
29,568 
13,816 



Material. 



500.744 
1,434,0^ 

567,638 

42,223.314 

6.007,417 



I- 



Total 
product. 



2.183,909 
3,916.904 

1.459,434 
74.309.388 
17,067,780 



Total 18.821 $315,369,708 228.619 1127,184,433 $398,984,288 



COAL PBODTJCTION' (Anthracite and Bituminous). 
In the Census Years 1880 and 1800, and in the Calendar Years from 1803 

to 1806, inclusive. 

(Tons of 2240 pounds. ) 



Year. 


Tons. 


Year. 


Tons. 

• 


Year. 


Tone. 


1880 70,478,426 ' 

1890 140,882,729 


1893 162,814,977 

1894 152,447,791 


1895 172,426,366 

1896 ...171,416,390 



The production of coal in 1870 was only 32,863,690 tons. It more than 
doubled from 1870 to 1880, and doubled again from 1880 to 1890. The increase 
in the 5 years 1890-1895 was about 32,000,000 tons, or nearly equal to the total 
production in 1870. 

It will be observed that while the production of coal, in consequence of the 
crisis, fell off about 10,000,000 tons from 1893 to 1894, it went up to 172,426,000 
tons in 1895, or nearly 10,000,000 tons more than the largest quantity ever 
turned out in any previous year. Yet the crisis was said to be still very intense 
in 1895, and the actual earnings of the miners were about one-half of what 
they were in 1893. To be sure, there was a crisis — not for the capitalist but 
for the laborer. 

PIG IBpN PBODTJCTION. 

Also, Number of Furnaces, in the Census Years 1870 and 1880, and in 

Each Year from 1885 to 1806, inclusive. 
(Tons of 2,240 pounds.) 



Year. 


Furnaces. 


Tons. 


Year. 


Furnaces. 


Tons. 


1870 


574 
701 
591 
577 
582 
589 
570 


2,052,821 
3,835,191 
4,044,526 
5,683,329 
6,417,148 
6,489,738 
7,603,642 


1890 ' 


562 
569 
562 
518 
511 
468 
470 


9,202,703 


1880 


1891 


8,279,870 


1885 


1892 


9,157,000 


1886 


1893 


7,124,502 


1887 


1894 


6,657,388 


1888 


1895 


9,446,308 


1889 


1896 


8,623,127 









It is a common saying of mercantile wiseacres that the power, progress and 
prosperity of a nation are correctly measured by its production of iron. Ac- 
cording to that standard not only is this country the most powerful and pro- 



— 190 — 

grefisive, for it passed England in 1890, but it was more prosperous in 1895 than 
at any previous time in its history. From a capitalistic standpoint, however, 
the above saying is absolutely true. For obvious reasons the rate at which 
wealth is increasing may be better inferred from the figures of iron and coal 
production than from the returns of any other branch of industry. Likewise 
the rate at which wealth is concentrating. In this last respect the above 
figures are suggestive. The number of blast furnaces — which from 1870 to 
1880 increased 127, or 22 per cent, while the production increased 87 per cent. — 
show an almost uninterrupted decrease from 701 in 1880 to 470 in 1896, as against 
a quadrupling of the annual production. Mark, furthermore, that of the 470 
furnaces remaining in existence, only 196 were actually in blast on June 30, and 
159 on December 31, 1896. 

The statistics of crude steel production presented in the following table, are 
even more instructive than those of pig iron, as they show the enormous extent 
to which the latter is now converted into the former, Instead of being chiefiy, 
as before, converted into iron. By this great change quality has been added 
to quantity and a vast power bas been gained which is suggested but not ex- 
pressed by the figures. 

CBUDE STEEL PBODUCTION. 
In Each Calendar Year from 1867 to 1896. 

(Tons of 2,240 pounds.) 



Year. 


Tons. 

1 

19,643 


Year. 

1 


Tons. 


1 Ve«r. 

1 


Tons. 


Year. 


TonB. 


1867.. 


1875.. 


389,799 


1883.. 


1,673,535 


1891.. 


3,904,240 


1868 . . 


26,786 


1876 . . 


533,191 


1884.. 


1,550,879 


1892.. 


4,927,481 


1869.. 


31,250 


1877.. 


569,618 


1885.. 


1,711,920 


1893.. 


4,019,995 


1870.. 


68,750 


1878.. 


731,977 


1886.. 


2,562,503 


1894.. 


4,412,032 


1871 . . 


73,214 


1879 . . 


935,278 


1887.. 


3,339,071 


1895.. 


6,114,834 


1872 . . 


142.954 


1880 . . 


1,247,335 


1888.. 


2,899,440 


1896.. 


5,281,689 


1873 . . 


198,796 


1881.. 


1,588,314 


1889 . . 


3,385,732 






1874.. 


215,727 


1882.. 

■ 


1,736,692 


1890.. 


4,277,071 







In 1896 the various kinds of crude steel produced and their respective quan- 
tities were as follows: Bessemer ingots and castings, 3,919,906 tons; Open hearth 
ingots and castings, 1,298,700 tons; Crucible ingots and castings, 60,689 tons; All 
other steel, 2,394 tons; Total, 5,281,689 tons. 



FOOD PBEPABING INDUSTBIES IN 1890. 



Industries. 



Bread and other bakery products.. 

Daking and yeast powders 

Cheese and butter, urban dairy 

product 

Cheese, butter, and condensed milk, 

factory product 

Chocolate and cocoa products 



Number 
ofestab- '. 
lishments.' 


Capital. 

1 45,758,489 
3,587,919 


Number 
of emplo- 
yees. 


Materials. 


Total 
product. 


10,484 
150 


52,762 
1,867 


% 72,507,579 
4,273,796 


1128.421,536 
7,406,806 


160 


607,590 


552 


1,545,273 


2.060,838 


4,552 
11 


16,016,573 
2,630,067 


14,369 
963 


49,819.801 
2,892,219 


60,636,706 
4,221,875 



ColI«e and Bplce, rQBBtlng and 
grinding 

Conteollonery 

Cordials and slrupB 

Flah, canning and preBervlng. . 

Food preparation a (not other 
ipeclfled) 

Pruits and vegetables, canning 

Ice, artlBclal 

I-ard, refined 

Liquors, distilled 

Liquors, malt 

Malt 

Ulneral and soda waters .,,.... 

Battling 

on, cottonseed and cake 

Oleomargarine 

Orsten, canning and preservln 
Pickles, preserves and saucea. 
Rice cleaning and polishing 

Elatlghtering and meat pack 

wholesale 

Slaughtering, wholesale, not Inc 

Sugar and moIasBea, TeHnlog... 

Vlaegar and elder 

ToUl 



3T0,DS7 I T1,450,19!.G31 j (2,014,1! 



SAVINGS BANKS. 



Condition of Savings Banks in the United States in 1897. 

Number of Savings Banks 980 

Number of depositors 5,201,132 

Amount deposited as "savings" $1,939,376,035 

Average deposit $373 

Deposits subject to immediate withdrawal $44,037,529 

Undivided Profits:— 

Surplus fund $159,954,756 

Other undivided profits 23,984,822 



Total undivided profits $183,939,578 

Investments: — 

Real estate, furniture and fixtures $ 47,412,066 

Loans on real estate 822,012,228 

Loans on personal and other collateral security 48,413,410 

Loans and discounts of other kinds 196,082,048 

United States bonds 163,886,928 

State, county and municipal bonds 466,137,050 

Railroad bonds and stocks 121,864,076 

Bank stocks 40,928,803 

All other stocks, bonds and securities 143,444,814 

Total investments $2,050,181,423 

Cash on hand and balances in commercial banks: — 

Cash on hand $ 42,507,816 

Cash items 1,203,071 

Due from banks and bankers (net) 89,440,221 



Total cash on hand, etc $133,151,108 

Less: — Deposits subject to immediate withdrawal $ 44,037,529 



Net cash on hand, etc $ 89,113,579 



Number of Depositors, Total Amount Deposited, and Average to Each 
Depositor, in the Savings Banks of Each State in 1897. 



states, &c. 



Number of 
depositors. 



Amount of 
deposits. 



Average to 
each depositor 



Maine 

New Hampshire 

Vermont 

Massachusetts .. 
Rhode Island . . . 
Connecticut 



163,115 
126,563 
106,169 
1,340,668 
136,148 
356,445 



$ 57,476,896 
49,493,056 
32,600,627 

453,220,257 
68,683,698 

149,496,556 



Total New England States..! 2,229,108 $810,971,090 



$352.37 
391.05 
307.19 
338.06 
504.48 
419.41 



363.81 



states, &c. 



193 — 



Number of 
depositors. 



Amount of 
deposits. 



Average to 
each depositor 



New York : 

New Jersey 

Pennsylvania 

Delaware 

Maryland / . . . 

District of Columbia. 



Total Eastern States. 



West Virginia . 
North Carolina, 
South Carolina 

Georgia , 

Louisiana 

Texas 

Tennessee 



Total Southern States 



Ohio 

Indiana . . 
Illinois .. 
Wisconsin 
Minnesota 
Iowa 



Total Middle States, 



California 

Utah 

Montana . 



Total Pacific States, 



1,736,968 

161,710 

294,852 

19,326 

161,058 

1,195 



2,375,109 

3,737 

18,743 

16,759 

5,384 

9,822 

2,000 

12,426 



331,605 



186,028 
4,942 
5,469 



196,439 



$718,176,889 

43,271,047 

77,429,348 

4,030,153 

51,810,877 

14,000 



$894,732,314 

249,333 

905,477 
4,533,459 

288,010 
2,519,393 

355,531 
1,627.877 



92,953,532 

127,929,281 

. 1,187,257 

1,123,481 



130,240,019 



Total United States I 5,201,132 I 1,939,376,035 



413.46 
267.58 
262.60 
208.53 
321.69 
11.71 



376.71 



66.72 
48.31 
270.51 
53.49 
256.50 
177.76 
131.01 



68,871 

1 


10,479,080 


152.16 


87,302 


29,950,871 


343.07 


17,437 


4,082,359 


234.18 


101,710 


26,589,141 


261.42 


1,546 


200,498 


129.69 


44,643 


3,545,008 


79.48 


78,967 


28,585,655 


361.99 



280.31 

687.69 
240.24 
205.43 



663.00 



372.88 



Number of Depositors, Amount of Deposits and Average Deposit in all the 
Savings Banks (Postal and Other) of Various Countries in 1895. 



1 

1 

Country. '■ Population. 


Number of 
depositors. 


Amount 
deposited. 


Average 
deposit. 


Per cent, of 
depositors in 
population. 


Austria 


25,000,000 

18,000,000 

6,000,000 

6,850,000 

2,200,000 

38,000,000 

31,000,000 


3,924,902 
995,397 
665,943 

1,145,408 
999,854 

8,986,631 

4,137,908 


$658,921,560 
226,151,760 
57,638,605 
113,500,080 
165,920,525 
829,783,735 
331,330,100 


$167.88 
227.19 
86.55 
99.09 
165.95 
92.33 
80.07 


15.7 


Hungary 


55 


Bavaria 


111 


Belgium 


Ifi? 


Denmark 


XV. 1 

45 4 


France 


22 6 


Italy 


AW.V 

12 2 




xu.u 



— 194 



1 

* 

Country. 


Population. 


Number of 
depositors. 


Amount 
deposited. 


Ayerage 
deposit. 


Per cent, of 
deposltornin 
population. 


Netherlands 

Norway . . ; 


4,250,000 

2,000,000 

32,000,000 

5,000,000 

3,000,000 

38,000,000 

4,200,000 

5,250,000 

1,600,000 

290,000,000 

550,000 

198,000 

2,000,000 
69,000,000 


740,024 

540,053 

6,255,507 

1,460,858 

1,196,590 

7,969,826 

894,879 

175,560 

50,161 

653,892 

6,963 

6,401 

114,491 
4,875,519 


43,073,460 

60,533,905 

939,757,555 

98,170,720 

178,792,290 

815,686,750 

130,485,880 

57,578,975 

8,490,920 

28,413,460 

861,520 

2,821,420 

12,275,455 
1,844,357,798 


58.20 
112.08 
150.23 

67.20 
149.42 
102.35 
145.81 
327.97 
169.21 

43.46 
123.01 
440.71 

107.22 
378.31 


17.4 
27. 


Prussia 


19.5 


Sweden 


29.2 


Switzerland 

United Kingdom.. 

Australasia 

Canada 


39.8 

20.9 

21.3 

3.3 


Cape Colony 

India 


3.1 

.2 


Natal 


1.3 


Newfoundland 

Other British colo- 
nies 


3.2 
5.7 


United States 


7.1 



Total I 584,098,000 I 45,796,767 I $6,604,546,473 I $144.21 



7.8 



WHO OWNS THE SAVTNOSP 

It is a stock argument of capitalist mouthpieces on the stump and in the press 
that the number of deposits and the amount deposited in the savings banks 
demonstrate that upon the whole the working class of this country is highly 
prosperous. Their assumption, of course, is that those deposits, or a large por- 
tion thereof, come from v^ge-working people; and, singular to say, this false- 
hood is generally accepted as unquestionable truth. In reply to several in- 
quiries concerning this matter an article appeared in "THE PEOPLE" of Nov. 
29, 1896, which is here partly reproduced and in which we showed clearly that 
at least nine-tenths of the deposits — and probably more — belonged to the middle 
class. The figures used in the article were for 1895 and therefore differ a little 
from those for 1897 given in the above tables. But the changes that have taken 
place, far from impairing our arguments and conclusions of two years ago, 
emphasize them strongly. 

"In 1895, the number of depositors in savings banks, or, to be more accu- 
rate, the number of "deposits" (as in many instances the same depositor had 
several deposits in different banks), was in round figures 4,880,000, and the 
total amount deposited was $1,811,000,000 (eighteen hundred and eleven million 
dollars.) 

"In these grand totals, the State of Ohio, with a population of 4,000,000, fig- 
ured for only 86,000 deposits, amounting in the aggregate to the comparatively 
insignificant sum of less than $35,000,000; while New Hampshire, with a popu- 
lation of 400,000 (or one-tenth that of Ohio), showed very nearly 164,000 de- 
posits, aggregating about $67,000,000 (or almost double the number and amount 
of deposits credited to Ohio). Mark, furthermore, that the number of wage- 
workers engaged in manufacturing and mechanical industries was (in 1890) 



— 195 — 



€4,000 in New Hampshire (or 100,000 LESS than the number of deposits), as 
against 331,000 in Ohio (or 245,000 MORE than the number of deposits). 
'To facilitate perception I tabulate as follows: 



tti 



states. 



Popalation. 



Number of 

mf g. and 

mech. 

wage 

workers. 



Number 

of 
deposits. 



Sums 
deposited. 



Excess of 
workers 

over 
deposits. 



Excess of 
deposits 

over 
workers. 



Ohio 
New 



Hampshire 



4.000,000 
400.000 



331.000 
64.000 




$35,000,000 [ 245,000 
67.000.000 



100,000 



"There are no statistics showing the employment of savings bank depo- 
sitors. The case of New Hampshire, however, immediately shows the absurdity 
of the prevailing notion — carefully nurtured by capitalistic mouthpieces — that 
the wage workers engaged in manufacturing and mechanical industries con- 
stitute the bulk of the army of depositors; for, if every one of the 64,000 
mechanics and mill operatives of New Hampshire had a savings bank account, 
there would still be 100,000 depositors belonging to the other classes of people. 

Again, on the other hand, if every one of the S6,000 Ohio depositors was a 
shop or factory worker, there would still be in that State 245,000 such workers 
(or 3 in 4) without a savings bank account; in other words, under this ex- 
treme supposition only 1 in 4 such workers would save money in Ohio, where 
the conditions of labor are certainly, on an average, no worse if no better than 
in New Hampshire. Applying to New Hampshire this MAXIMUM (and ob- 
viously exaggerated) proportion of 1 in 4, we would find that the deposits in 
the latter State were contributed as follows: 

By one quarter of the 64.000 workers in manu- 
facturing and mechanical employments. .16.000 deposits, or 10 per cent, of the total number 
By persons belonging to other classes 148,000 deposits, or 90 per cent, of the total number 

"New Hampshire, then, supplies us a maximum proportion, that we can 
safely use as a basis for the whole country in estimating the percentage of 
savings bank deposits contributed by the whole wage working class. This per- 
centage can only be 10, at the utmost, and may be considerably less. For, in 
the first place, due allowance must be made for the obviously gross exaggeration 
in the above fundamental supposition that one manufacturing or mechanical 
worker in every four saves money (since under that supposition all the savings 
bank deposits in Ohio would come from such workers); and, in the second 
place, it is safe to say that, with the exception of domestic servants (besides 
superintendents, overseers, well-paid clerks, and such-like, who consider them- 
selves as members of the middle class, and are in thorough sympathy with 
it), very few of the wage-workers engaged in other than manufacturing and 
mechanical occupations can save money; these being chiefiy farm and common 
laborers, miners, teamsters, 'longshoremen and other freight handlers, sailors, 
office boys, messengers, "cash girls," saleswomen, etc., etc., who are all paid 
the lowest rate of wages. 

"In that proportion the savings bank deposits of the whole country would 
therefore be contributed as follows: 

By the Middle class (90 per cent.) 4,392,000 $1,630,000,000 

By the Wage-working class (10 per cent.) ...... 488,000 181,000,000 

Total 4,880,000 $1,811,000,000 



— 196 



(Observe, also, that in the above estimate, not only one-tenth of the 
number of deposits, but one-tenth of the total sum deposited, is credited to 
the working class, thereby making the average deposit of a person of this 
class equal to the average deposit of a person of the middle class, or $370; a 
sum probably too large by one-half or more.) 

"I took New Hampshire and Ohio for a comparison because, in the absence 
of statistics of depositors' employments, the great excess of deposits over 
workers in the first State, and the great excess of workers over deposits in 
the second State, obviously afforded a wider and therefore more correct basis 
to work upon in order to arrive, through arithmetic reasoning, at an approxima- 
tion of the distribution of savings bank deposits between the wage working 
class and the middle class. But similar contrasts, not less suggestive, exist 
between other States, as, for instance, between Pennsylvania and New York, 
which compare as follows: 



States. 



Population. 



No.ofwftgoi 
workers Tnj 
mffr. and ' 
mech. em- 
ployments. 



Number 

of 
deposits. 



Sums 
deposited. 



Excess of 
workets 

over 
deposits. 



Excess of 
deposits 

over 
workers. 



Pennsylvania 
New York .. 



5,700,000 
6,600,000 



620.000 
850.000 



264,000 
1,615.000 



I 68,500.000 
643,000,000 



356,000 



765,000 



"Here are two contiguous great States— the greatest in the Union— that 
do not very largely differ in population or in the number of wage workers em- 
ployed. The rates of wages paid in similar employments, the cost of living 
and the mode of life of the laboring people are substantially alike in both. 
Yet in New York the number of savings bank deposits is more than 6 times, 
and the amount deposited nearly 10 times, as great as in Pennsylvania. 

"Manifestly, no possible difference in the conditions and habits of the 
laboring classes of those two States can account for the enormous difference in 
their savings bank returns. But if the conditions of their respective middle 
classes are considered, the difference in question is readily explained. In 
New York City, which, including its immediate suburbs, comprises nearly one- 
half of the population of the "Empire" State, there is a very numerous and 
active middle class, that is still upon the whole, quite prosperous, despite the 
inroads made upon it by concentrated capital. It is, at any rate, far more 
numerous, active and prosperous than that of any other great city on this 
continent, not excluding Boston, which, with its suburbs, comprises about one- 
third of the population of Massachusetts, and where, for similar reasons, the 
savings bank deposits are also very large. To this middle class, composed of 
small merchants, shopkeepers, dealers and business agents, fairly paid clerks, 
professional people (male and female), etc., can unquestionably be traced the 
bulk of deposit3 in the gigantic savings banks of the American metropolis. 
Likewise, to the middle class of other commercial centres, according to its 
local importance and special conditions, can be traced the standing of those 
centres in the matter of savings banks. In Philadelphia, the middle class has 
in great part made it a point to "own its homes," and has, therefore, but little 
money to deposit in savings institutions. In Chicago the middle class is largely 
speculating, and the result is seen in the fact that Illinois, with a population 
greater than that of Ohio, and with a city that aspires to be centre of the 
universe, has only $24,000,000 in its savings banks, as against $35,000,000 in the 
"Buckeye" State. 



— 197 — 

"If all the above statements were not deemed sufficient to show the ab- 
surdity of measuring the welfare of the working people by the returns of 
sayings banks, I might further observe that by this measure the wage workers 
of New York State would be 102 times as well off as those of Wisconsin, which, 
with a population of 1,900,000, has only 1,439 deposits aggregating less than 
$180,000; or that in Austria-Hungary, where the reported savings are $885,- 
000,000, the workers are better off than in Great Britain, where the reported 
savings are only $815,000,000; and so on, ad infinitum. 

"But the point of importance, which I think I have made quite clear, is 
that the bulk of savings bank deposits in this country is supplied by the middle 
class, to the extent of at least 90 per cent, of their amount. And right here, 
before passing to the next consideration, I might also remark that the large 
and growing deposits of the middle class in such States as New York and Mas- 
sachusetts are by no means an evidence of its permanent solidity and safety. 
This fact rather betrays a sense of insecurity, which impels the people of that 
class to lay by some money for their wives and children in the fear of possible 
failure, or of death under circumstances that would make a settlement of 
their affairs somewhat uncertain in its results. A Gould, a Vanderbilt, a 
Rockefeller, or any such, does not deposit money in a savings bank or take an 
insurance policy, unless, perchance, he desires to "boom up," for his own pur- 
poses or to oblige a friend, the concern which he may thus patronize. 

"Now, if the maximum contribution of the wage- working class to the sums 
accumulated in the savings banks is only, at the very utmost, 10 per cent, 
(which upon the basis of the latest returns would foot up $180,000,000), how 
foolish is it to imagine that this class, with that sum of "savings'* as "capital," 
could, through co-operation, free itself from the yoke of capitalism! 

"To be sure, $180,000,000 is a formidable sum; but it is formidable only, 
(1) when concentrated in a few hands working together for some special 
object, and (2) on condition that the object shall not be opposed by the infinitely 
greater mass of other capital. 

1. The very purpose of "saving," which in the sense here considered is to 
lay by money for immediate use in case of emergency, would naturally forbid 
any combination — not only between the 480,000 depositors of the working class, 
but between the 4,392,000 depositors of the middle class — through which their 
money might be tied up in commercial, financial or manufacturing ventures. 
Necessarily limited in their operations by this purpose, the savings banks 
invest their money chiefiy in mortgages on first-class improved real estate, 
municipal or State bonds, and loans strongly secured, that can be called in on 
the shortest possible notice. They keep a large amount of cash on hand, in their 
own coffers, and their deposits in banks are subject to immediate withdrawal. 

"2. Were such a combination possible it would, as soon as attempted, im- 
mediately be met with the combined opposition of all the great capitalistic 
forces, for which it would be mere child's play to break it down and wipe it 
out. Not only the $180,000,000 of the working class, but the $1,600,000,000 of 
the middle class, if those two classes entered into the combination, would 
promptly disappear in the huge maw of the forty-billion-power plutocratic 
octopus." 



FINANCIAL STATISTICS. 



THE WOBLD'S BANKING POWEB. 

In 1885, and again in 1894, the English statistician, M. G. Mulhall, under- 
took to figure out the aggregate capital, circulation (or bank note issues) and 
deposits of the gi'eat public banks in all the countries where such institutions 
are in existence. This he called, somewhat inaccurately, the "Banking Power 
of the World." We say, "inaccurately," because his statistical results did not 
include the vast number of private firms, and also many companies more or 
less important, whose capital is entirely or partially employed in banking 
operations. These firms and corporations, of course, use the public banks of 
discount and issue for their special purposes, but they have a capital of their 
own and receive deposits from a multitude of merchants, investors, etc., the 
total amount of which constitutes an unknown but very large proportion of 
the so-called "Banking Power." Not only are their portfolios always filled with 
notes, drafts and securities, but it is chiefly through them that many corporate 
enterprises issue their stocks or bonds, and that various governments contract 
their loans. For obvious reasons, however, their actual resources cannot be 
ascertained with any degree of accuracy, and the following table, compiled in 
1897, from data supplied by the consular agents of this country to the State 
Department at the request of the Comptroller of the Currency, leaves out, 
as did Mulhairs previous tables, not only all the private bankers of the world, 
from the Rothschild's down, but also many European financial institutions, 
or banking companies, whether they are or are not compelled by the laws 
of their respective countries to publish annual accounts of their operations. 
For the United States these figures are more complete, because they comprise 
not only the national banks, which are banks of issue, but all the other stock 
banks, except savings. But for most of the other countries the banks of 
issue alone — such as the Bank of France, the Imperial Bank of Germany, the 
Imperial Bank of Russia, the National Bank of Belgium, etc., are reported. 
This table leaves out also the savings banks, postal and other, an account of 
which is given elsewhere under a special heading. 



Items. 


Europe. 


United States. 


other countries 


Total. 


Capital 


$904,609,720 

337,437,978 
2,714,768,668 
4,942,011,246 


$878,411,190 

444,224,146 

198,920,670 

2,627,268,166 


$363,509,370 

107,791,194 

235,939,769 

1,151,706.375 


$2,146,530,280 


Surplus and other 
undivided profits.. 
Circulation 


889,453,318 
3,149,629.107 


Denosits 


8,720,985,787 






Total 


8,898,827,612 


4,148,824,172 


1,858,946,708 


14,906,598,492 







From the above figures it would appear that the banking power of the 
United States is about 28 per cent, of the total banking power of the capitalist 
world (and not 33 per cent., as incorrectly stated by the Comptroller of the 



199 — 



Currency in his official report for 1897). But from the nature and insufficiency 
of the data upon which this table has been constructed, it is obvious that while 
the figures for all countries are much smaller than they ought to be, those 
for Europe, in particular, are much more below the real than those given for 
the United States. Taking all things, as far as we know, into consideration, 
it may, indeed, well be doubted that as much as one-fifth of the banking power 
of the world lies on this side of the Atlantic. 

On the other hand, however, it must be observed that the banking capital 
and bank deposits are growing in this country at a very high rate, probably 
unequalled elsewhere, even in England. 

PBOBXJCTION OF GOLD AND SILVEB 
in the World Since the Discovexy of America. 

[From 1493 to 1885, estimated by Dr. Adolph Soetbeer; from 1886 to 1895, estimated by U. S. 

Mint Bureau.] 



Period. 



Gold. 

(Coining 

Value.) 



Silver. 

(CoininfT 

Value.) 



Period. 



Gold. 
(Coining 
Value.) 



Silver 

(Coining 

Value.) 



1493—1520 $107,931,000 



1521—1544. 
3545—1560. 
15G1— 1580. 
1581—1600. 
1601—1620. 
1621—1640. 
1641—1660. 
1661—1680. 
1681—1700. 
1701—1720. 
1721—1740. 
1741—1760. 
1761—1780. 
1781—1800. 
1801—1810. 
1811—1820. 
1821—1830. 
1831—1840. 
1841—1850. 



114.205,000 

90.492,000 

90,917,000 

98,095,000 

113.248.000 

110.324,000 

116,571,000 

123.084,000 

143.088,000 

170,403,000 

253,611,000 

327.116,000 

275.211,000 

236.464.000 

118,152.000 

76.063,000 

94.479.000 

134.481.000 

363.928.000 



•54.703,000 
89,986,000 
207,240,000 
248,990,000 
348,254.000 
351.579,000 
327,221.000 
304.525,000 
280,166.000 
284,240.000 
295,629,000 
358.480.000 
443,232.000 
542.658,000 
730.810.000 
371,677,000 
224.786,000 
191,444,000 
247,930,000 
342,400,000 



1851—1855. 
1856—1860. 
1861—1865. 
1866-1870. 
1871—1875. 
1876—1880. 
1881—1886. 

1886 

1887 

1888 

1889 

1890 

1891 

1892 

1893 

1894 

1895 

1896 



$662,566,000 
670.415,000 
614,944,000 
648,071.000 
577,883,000 
572,931,000 
495,582.000 
106.163.900 
105,774.900 
110.196.000 
123,489,200 
118,848,700 
130,650,000 
146,815,100 
157.287.600 
180.626.100 
203,000,000 
202,966,000 



•184.169.000 
188.092.000 
228.861.000 
278,313.000 
400.322.000 
509.256,000 
594,773.000 
120.626.800 
124,281.000 
140.706.400 
155.427,700 
163.032.000 
177.352.300 
198.014,400 
214,745,300 
216,892,200 
226,000,000 
213,463,700 



Total 1493— 1896 1 •8.983,320,600 I •10,566,706.800 



BULLION VALUE of 371% Grains 
at the Annual Average Price of Silver each 



of Pure SILVEB 

year from 1850 to 1897. 



Year. 


Bullion 
value. 


Year. 


Bullion 
value. 


Year. 


Bullion 
value. 


Year. 


Bullion 
value. 


1850.... 


$1,018 


1862.... 


$1,041 ' 


1874.... 


$0,988 


1886.... 


$0,769 


1851.... 


1.034 


1863.... 


1.040 


1875.... 


0.964 


1887.... 


0.756 


1852.... 


1.025 


1864.... 


1.040 


1876.... 


0.894 


1888.... 


0.727 


1853.... 


1.042 


1865.... 


1.035 


1877.... 


0.929 


1889.... 


0.723 


1854.... 


1.042 


1866.... 


1.036 


1878.... 


0.891 


1890.... 


0.809 


1855.... 


1.039 


1867.... 


1.027 


1879.... 


0.868 


1891.... 


0.764 


1856.... 


1.039 


1868.... 


1.025 


1880.... 


0.886 


1892.... 


0.673 


1857.... 


1.046 


1869.... 


1.024 


1881.... 


0.880 


1893.... 


0.603 


1858.... 


1.039 


1870.... 


1.027 


1882.... 


0.878 


1894.... 


0.491 


1859.... 


1.052 


1871.... 


1.025 


1883.... 


0.858 


1895.... 


0.506 


I860.... 


1.045 


1872.... 


1.022 


1884.... 


0.861 


1896.... 


0.522 


1861.... 


1.031 


1873.... 


1.004 


1885.... 


0.823 


1897.... 


0.468 



— 200 — 

COMMERCIAL BATIO OF SILVER TO GOLD 

From 1687 to 1897. 

(NOTE.— From 1687 to 1832 the ratios are taken from the tables of Dr. A. Soetbeer; from 
1833 to 1878 from Pixley and Abell's tables; and from 1879 to 1896 from the reports of the 
U. S. Bureau of the Mint). 



fear. 


Ratio. 


Year. 


Ratio. 


lear. 


Ratio. 


Year. 


Ratio. 


1687 


14.94 


1775.... 


14.72 


1861.... 


15.50 


1879.... 


18.40 


1690 


15.02 


1780.... 


14.72 


1862.... 


15.35 


1880.... 


18.05 


1695 


15.02 


1785.... 


14.92 


1863.... 


15.37 


1881... 


18.16 


1700 


14.81 


1790.... 


15.04 


1864.... 


15.37 


1882... 


18.19 


1705 


15.11 


1795.... 


15.55 


1865.... 


15.44 


1883... 


18.64 


1710 


15.22 


1800.... 


15.68 


1866.... 


15.43 


1884... 


18.57 


1715 


15.11 


1805.... 


15.79 


1867.... 


15.57 


1885... 


19.41 


1720 


15.04 


1810.... 


15.77 


1868.... 


15.59 


1886... 


20.78 


1725 


15.11 


1815.... 


15.26 


1869.... 


15.60 


1887... 


21.13 


1730 


14.81 


1820.... 


15.62 


1870.... 


15.57 


1888... 


21.99 


1735 


15.41 


1825 


15.70 


1871.... 


15.57 


1889 . . . 


22.09 


1740 


14.94 


1830.... 


15.82 


1872.... 


15.63 


1890.... 


19.75 


1745 


14.98 


1835.... 


15.80 


1873.... 


15.92 


1891... 


20.92 


1750 


14.55 


1840.... 


15.62 


1874.... 


16.17 


1892 . . . 


23.72 


1755 


14.68 


1845.... 


15.92 


1875.... 


16.59 


1893 . . . 


26.49 


1760 


14.14 


1850.... 


15.70 


1876.... 


17.88 


1894... 


32.56 


1765 


14.83 


1855.... 


15.38 


1877.... 


17.22 


1895 . . . 


31.60 


1770 


14.62 


I860.... 


15.29 


1878.... 


17.94 


1896... 
1897... 


30.66 
34.28 



PRIVATE AND PUBLIC DEBT IN THE UNITED STATES. 

(From data compiled by the Department of Labor.) 
The total estimate of private and public debt, as given by the Depart- 
ment of Labor, is $20,227,170,546, or 31.10 per cent, of the total wealth, but 
the difference of $1,085,298,151 between this and the itemized estimate given 
below is not accounted for. 



AMOUNT AND RATE OF INTEREST, 1890. 



Description of Debt. 



Debt. 



Interest. 



Private Debt. 

Railroad companies, funded debt (partly estimated) 

Street railway companies, funded debt 

Telephone companies, funded debt 

Telegraph companies (partly estimated) 

Public water companies, not owned by municipalities 
(partly estimated) 

Gas companies (estimated) 

Electric lighting and power companies (estimated) 

Transportation companies, not otherwise specified, and 
canal, turnpike, bridge, and other quasi public corpo- 
rations (estimated) 

Real estate mortgages 

Crop liens in the South (estimated) 

Crop liens outside the South and chattel mortgages (es- 
timated) 



$5,669,431,114 

182,240,754 

4,992,565 

20,000,000 

89.127,489 
75,000,000 
45,000,000 



114,208,078 

6,019,679,985 

300,000,000 

350,000,000 



a $255,124,400 

10,733,980 

294,062 

1,178,000 

5,249,609 
4,417,500 
2.650,500 



6,726,856 
397,442,792 
120,000.000 

35.000.000 



Rate 

per 

cont. 



4.50 
b5.89 
b5.89 
b5.89 

5.89 
b5.89 
b5.89 



b5.89 

6.60 

C40.00 

clO.OO 



— 201 — 



Description of Debt. 




Rate 

per 

cent. 



1,904467,351 



125.675,045 



National banks, loans and overdrafts 

Otber banks, loans and overdrafts, not including real 

estate mortgages ( 1,172,918,415 | 77,412,615 

Other net private debt (estimated) (c) | 1,212,761,236 



891.960,104 



1,135,210,442 



Total v' I 17,114,701.849 

Public Debt. 

United States 

States ) 

Counties ! 

Municipalities j 

School districts J 

Total 

Private and Public Debt. 

Private debt 

Public debt 



1,126,798,645 



28,997,603 
65.541.776 



17,114,701.849 
2,027.170.546 

Total I 19,141,87i2,395" 



2,027.170.546 



94,539,379 

1,126,798.645 
94,539.379 

1,221,3387024 



d6.60 



d6.60 
84,893.286 I c7.00 



6.58 



4.08 
5.29 

T85 

6.58 
4.85 



6.38 



a Actually paid and not including interest due and unpaid. 

b The rate for water companies is adopted. 

c Arbitrarily adopted. 

d The rate for real estate mortgages is adopted. 



Total Wealth, and Annual Value of All Products, in 1850, 1860, 1870, 

1880 and 1890. 
(EYom the Census Reports.) 



Census Year. 


Population. 


Wealth. 


Annunl value of manufac- 
tures, and farm, fishery 
and mineral products. 


1850 


23,191,876 


1 7,135,780,228 


' 1 1,029,106,798 


1860 


31,443,321 


16,159,616,068 


1,898,785,768 


1870 


38,558,371 


30,068,518,507 


6,843,559,616 


1880 


50,155,783 


43,642,000,000 


7,974,097,438 


1890 


62,622,250 


65,037,091,197 


12,148,380,626 



Items. 



Lands 

Cattle, etc. . 

Houses 

Furniture . . 
Railways . . 

Ships 

Merchandise 

Bullion 

Sundries . . . 



WEALTH OF NATIONS. 

[From Estimates by Mulhall, 1888.] 
In Million Dollars. 



United 
Kingdom 


United 
States. 


France. 


Ger- 
many. 


BuRsia. 


Canada. 



Aus- 
tralia. 



7,720 


12,800 


13,440 


9,076 


7,535 


1,410 


2,070 


5,680 


2,705 


2,460 


- 4,265 


400 


12,120 


14,250 


8,520 


6,160 


3,505 


635 


6,060 


7,125 


4,260 


3,080 


1,750 


320 


4,325 


9,745 


2,850 


2,475 


1,570 


755 


670 


300 


75 


50 


35 


30 


1,715 


800 


775 


920 


295 


105 


620 


1,140 


1,640 


835 


265 


20 


11,700 


12,280 


8,725 


7,100 


6,225 


1,225 



2,665 
520 

1,195 
600 
470 
5 
325 
120 
965 



Total I 47,000 | 64,120 | 42,990 | 32,155 I 25,445 | 4,900 [ 6,865 



STRIKES AND LOCKOUTS. 



I. UNITED STATES. 

The following statistics of strikes and lockouts in the United States, 
from January 1, 1881, to June 30, 1894, are taken from the Tenth Annual 
Report of the Commissioner of Labor (Washington, D. C, 1895): 



Yctor. 



Strikes. 



Eswblifih- 
menta. 



ATerace 

estabhaiir 

mentB to a 

strike. 



thrown out 
of oiqploy- 



1881 

1882 

1883 

1884 

1885 

1886 

1887 

1888 

1889 

1890 

1891 

1892 

1893 

1894 (6 months) 

Total 



471 


2,928 


6.2 


454 


2A05 


4.6 


478 


2,759 


5.8 


443 


2,367 


5.3 


645 


2,284 


3.5 


1,432 


10,053 


7.0 


1,436 


6,589 


4.6 


906 


3,506 


3.9 


1.075 


3,786 


3.5 


1,833 


9,424 


5.1 


1,718 


8,117 


4.7 


1,298 


5,540 


4.3 


1,305 


4,555 


3.5 


896 


5,154 


5.8 



129.521 
154,671 
149,763 
147,0&4 
242,705 
508,044 
379,726 
147,704 
249J559 



299,064 
206,671 
265,914 
482,066 



14,390 I 69,167 { 4.8 



3,714,406 



WAGE LOSS OF EMPLOYEES. ASSISTANCE TO EMPLOYEES. AND LOSS OF CM- 

PLOYERS, JANUARY 1. ISSl. TO JUNE », 1»L 



Year. 



U8S 

1SS3 
Ittft 

B 

e; 

n 

m 

n. 

vaa 

uu 

15M (< months^ 

Ttotal I43.«>:.S6S 





Strikes. 




LoekoiitA. 


To date wlien strikers 
were reemployed or . 
employed elsewhere. 




TO date wlien employ- 
ees loeked oat were 
reemployed or em- 
: ployed elsewhere. 








T^le^ of 






Lonof 
npioT«n^ 




Assistance employers. 




A^i^tanre * 


Wa^eetsloss 


to employ- 




■ Wa^eloee 
of em- 


to employ- 




of em- 


ees by la- 




ees by la-. 




ployees- 


bor or^ lu- 
xations. 




ployee*. 


bororgani-; 

ZatKHIB. 




is.xn,5:s 


93ST.999 


n,si».4a 


r 

' J1S.515 


^ iu»; 


IU» 


9.8M.2SS 


TS4.3» 


4.a«i,(iM 


4CC3I5 


<7.COr 


lUJtt 


<,2T4.4» 


iSLSn\ 


4.CK»<iri 


i,o».n2 


1S!,S3^ 


vsjm 


i.WMS.«Ti 


*y:.s7i 


3.93.0^ 


L4a.4i» 


3X4.«7« 


CMLtffT 


ia.<e^« 


46.Sr7 


4.3SS.SS3 


901073 


s».«ss 


455L477 


14.9K.«3 


i.ii:.i» 


13,357.906 


4.S1,Q6S 


50.452 


L»».4K 


1<.5«>.S34 


i.m.5»4 


«,cas.4K 


4.S3.7W 


15S.SIC 


aLSn.TK 


<,37:.T« 


l.:a£.<lSS 


<.S(B.617 


iaOD.0S7 


sjn 


LSn49» 


li>.4«.<g« 


592.U17 


:.93S.752 


UW.7SI 


115J8» 


3i70S 


ixs:s.33s 


S10.2S5 


5035.4*1 


957.MS 


7T.2W 




14.9(0.714 


L1C557 


«a7:.28S 


SSSwTW 


5*JSS 


AC^flpc 


Id.TTtCa 


SaST4 


5.i^cn 


rsBceu 


537.CM 


i.a6j» 


».SSS.<Hs 


5CUS3 


3.MCaS6 


&.cs».«a 


aH.aa 


MM,<a» 


2k3S.4n 


SSS.$IG» 


U.5»7a« 


43T.S1 


3L737 


a6.4ii 



10.»4.«K ^StK'.SK 2liL«85.SU t 



— 203 — 
RESULTS OF STRIKBS FOR EMPLOTEBS, JANUARY 1, 1881, TO JUNE 30. 1894. 



Year. 



1881 

1882 

1883 

1884 

1885 

1886 

1887 

1888 

1889 

1890 

1891 

1892 

1893 

1S94 (6 months). 



Number thrown out of employment. 



In success- 
ful strikes. 



In partly 
success- 
ful 
strikes. 



In strikes 
which 
failed. 



In total 
strikes. 



Per cent tlirown out of 
employment. 



In suc- 
cessful 
strikes. 



In partly 
success- 
ful 
stiikes. 



55,600 


17,482 


45,746 


7,112 


55,140 


17,024 


52,736 


5,044 


115,375 


23,855 


al95.400 


a74,167 


127,629 


26,442 


41,106 


11,130 


72,099 


62,607 


bl68.787 


b48,444 


80,766 


22,885 


61,125 


16,429 


c62,018 


c41,765 


65,048 


88,391 



56,439 

101,813 

77,599 

89,274 

103,475 

a238,229 

225,655 

95,468 

114,853 

bl44.681 

195,413 

129,117 

cl60,741 

328.627 



129.521 


42.93 


13.50 


154,671 


29.58 


4.60 


149,763 


36.82 


IL37 


147,054 


35.86 


3.43 


242,705 


47.54 


9.83 


508,044 


a38.46 


al4.60 


379,726 


33.61 


6.96 


147,704 


27.83 


7.54 


249,559 


28.89 


25.09 


351,944 


b45.12 


bl3.76 


299,064 


27.01 


7.65 


206,671 


29.58 


7.95 


265,914 


C23.32 


C15.71 


482,066 


13.49 


18.34 



In 
strikes 
which 
failed. 



43.57 
65.82 
51.81 
60.71 
42.63 

a46.90 
59.43 
64.63 
46.02 

b41.11 
65.34 
62.47 

C60.45 
68.17 



Total I dl.188,575 | d462.777 | d2,061,384 | 3,714,406 | d32.00 | dl2.46 | d55.50 



a Not including 248 engaged in Btrlkes still pending December 31. 1886. 
b Not including 32 engaged in strikes not reporting result, 
c Not including 1,390 engaged in strikes still pending June 80. 1894. 
d Not including 1,670 for the reason stated in the preceding notes. 



DURATION OF STRIKES AND LOCKOUTS, JANUARY 1, 1881. 

TO JUNE 30, 1894. 

[The duration involves the number of days from date of strike or lockout to 
date when employees returned to work or when their places were filled 
by others.] 



Year. 



Strikes. 


Lockouts. 


Establish- 
ments. 


Average 

duration 

(days). 


. Establish- 
ments. 


Average 

duration 

(days). 



1881 

1882 

1883 

1884 

1885 

1886 

1887 

1888 

1889 

1890 

1891 

1892 

1893 

1894 (6 months) 

Total 



2,928 


12.8 


9 


32.2 


2,105 


21.9 


42 


105.0 


2,759 


20.6 


117 


57.5 


2,367 


30.5 


354 


41.4 


2,284 


30.1 


183 


27.1 


10,053 


23.4 


1,509 


39.1 


6,589 


20.9 


1,281 


49.8 


3,506 


20.3 


180 


74.9 


3,786 


26.3 


132 


57.5 


9,424 


24.2 


324 


73.9 


8,117 


34.9 


546 


37.8 


5,540 


23.4 


716 


72.0 


4,555 


20.6 


305 


34.7 


5,154 


37.8 


369 


18.7 



69,167 



25.4 



6,067 



47.6 



— 204 



SEX OF EMPLOYEES THROWN OUT OF EMPLOYMENT, JANUARY 1, 1881, 

TO JUNE 30. 1894. 



Year. 



1881 

1882 

1883 

1884 

1885 

1886 

1887 

1888 

1889 

1890 

1891 

1892 

1893 

1894, 6 months 

Total 



Sti1kc»«. 



EiupIiiyceA 
thr«>wii out of 
emi)loyin4*ut 



129,521 
154,671 
149,763 
147,054 
242,705 
508,044 
379,726 
147,704 
249,559 
351,944 
299,064 
206,671 
265,914 
482,066 



Males 
per cent. 



94.08 
92.15 
87.66 
88.78 
87.77 
86.17 
91.77 
91.50 
90.48 
90.53 
94.90 
93.57 
93.06 
95.13 



Females 
per cent. 



Lookouts. 



Employees 
thrown out of 
employment 



Males 
per cent. 



Females 
per cent. 



5.92 

7.85 

12.34 

11.22 

12.23 

13.83 

8.23 

8.50 

9.52 

9.47 

5.10 

6.43 

6.94 

4.87 



655 
4,131 
20,512 
18,121 
15,424 
101,980 
59,630 
15,176 
10,731 
21,555 
31,014 
32,014 
21,842 
13,905 



83.21 
93.80 
73.58 
78.93 
83.77 
63.02 
94.76 
79.53 
73.91 
72.49 
59.13 
96.02 
84.95 
95.83 



I 



16.79 

6.20 
26.42 
21.07 
16.23 
36.98 

5.24 
20,47 
26.09 
27.5L 
40.87 

3.98 
15.05 

4.17 



3,714,406 



91.22 



8.78 



366.690 



77,47 



22.53 



The foregoing table affords a remarkable illustration of the brutality 
and cowardice of the capitalist class as a body. Study it well; it speaks 
volumes. It shows on the one hand that the percentage of wage-working 
women involved in strikes is very small. Compelled by the direst necessity 
to leave the home for the shop, they generally submit to any extortion rather 
than put in jeopardy by a protest the mite upon which an aged parent, a 
younger sister, a child, perchance also a sick or unemployed husband, may 
depend for subsistence. But it shows on the other hand that they figure 
in very large proportion among the locked-out employees. In the year of 
great capitalistic prosperity 1891, the percentage of female labor in lockouts 
was nearly 41 per cent! The capitalists struck the women down in order 
to compel the men to surrender. 



II. GREAT BBITAIN. 

Having received from England our trade-unionism, as well as our capi- 
talism, we should naturally take a deep interest in the development of both, 
there as w^ell as here, so that the lessons taught by their evolution in that 
country— be that evolution upward or downward — may not be lost upon us. 
Moreover, the international relations of the two countries are becoming closer 
every day and their reciprocal effects upon labor in all branches of industry 
will soon be instantaneous and equal on both sides of the Atlantic. 

The British trade-unions should be considered in their double aspect, 
namely: 

1. — As militant labor bodies, originating from the very nature of the 
class struggle under the capitalist system, instituted to promote the ele- 



— 205 — 

vation and resist the degradation not of their own members alone but of 
the whole working class, and destined, therefore, consciously or uncon- 
sciously, to act an important part in the war for social emancipation; 

2. — As mutual benefit associations, having for their incidental object 
while this war is lasting, the relief of their sick, maimed and decrepit mem- 
bers, injured and pauperized by the capitalist system. 

The following tables, compiled from reports of the Labor Department, 
British Board of Trade, conclusively show that the incidental has become the 
principal feature of those institutions; in other words, that in England to 
a not less extent than in America, trade-unionism has been woefully side- 
tracked, has moved backward instead of forward, and cannot too soon 
change its spirit and reverse its course if it is not to become (in the words 
of Jaurds at the London International Congress) "the Westminster Abbey of 
the labor movement." 

Of the $6,815,000 (in round figures) expended by the 100 principal unions 
of Great Britain in 1895, only $926,000— or 13% per cent.— went to the "dis- 
pute benefit" account; by which is obviously meant the cost of "fighting 
capital with capital,"in accordance with the principle of "pure and simple, non- 
political" trade-unionism, as formulated by a certain Mr. Holmes, "friendly 
delegate" of the British Trade Union Congress to the American Federation of 
Labor; the said "friendly delegate," by the way, being one of the labor poli- 
ticians, or decoy ducks, of a British capitalistic party. 

Again, $1,247,000 (or over 18 per cent.) were expended in collecting the 
dues, distributing the benefits, and generally officering the unions; in accord- 
ance, no doubt, with that other "principle" formulated by the same friendly 
delegate and authorized mouthpiece, that "the rank and file of the unions 
must imitate the capitalists by leaving the management of their affairs in 
the hands of capable and well-paid men." So well, indeed, does this "principle" 
appear to have been acted upon, so well do the rank and file imitate the 
capitalists in providing for their brainy managers, that the percentage of 
cost in the administration of their unions is considerably higher than in 
the administration of any capitalistic mutual benefit concern on this highly 
capitalistic side of the Atlantic. In the savings banks of Massachusetts, for 
instance, this cost is only one-fourth of one per cent. In the 56 great life 
insurance companies of the United States the whole expenditure was about 
25 per cent, in 1895, but it included all the commissions paid to agents, and 
the regular cost of administration did not exceed 5 per cent. It is small 
consolation to say that our American unions make a still worse showing 
than the British in this and all other respects. 

Deducting the above two items, there remained $4,642,000, of which 
$2,122,000 (or nearly one-half) were spent in supporting unemployed members, 
as against a total of only $1,652,000 for sick, accident and funeral benefits; 
enforced idleness necessarily becoming a constantly more prominent feature 
than even sickness, accident and death in wage slavery, which trade unionism, 
"pure and simple and non-political," mournfully accepts as a finality. 

The "funds on hand" at the close of the year 1895 footed up the hand- 
some total of $8,304,000. Formidable as this sum appears in a block, it only 
gave an average of $9.11 per member, or just enough to meanly support an 
average workingman's family for two weeks at the most. Is it with a 



— 206 — 

"capital" of |9.11 per worker that Mr. Holmes and those of his school will 
undertake to "fight the capital" engaged in the industries that employ 
1,330,000 such workers? If not, how long will they have to wait for the 
required amount, seeing that it took 72 years of "pure and simple, non- 
political" trade unionism to reach such an average? 

Other results, not less suggestive, are exhibited in the table "Changes in 
rates of wages and hours." According to that table, in the two years 1895 and 
1896, taken together, 462,000 workers had their wages increased and 519,000 
had their wages decreased. And to what did all those changes amount? 
In 1895 there was an average decrease of 84 cents per week; in 1896 there 
was an average increase of 21 cents per week! Again, in 1896 the hours of 
labor were decreased for 34,000 workers, but they were increased for 73,000. 

Fortunately, under the pressure of capitalistic despotism, and as the grow- 
ing impotency of the old "pure and simple, non-political" trade-unionism 
becomes manifest, the truths of Socialism impress themselves upon the minds 
of British workers and its spirit pervades more and more their organizations. 
In the light cast upon the class struggle by the recent conflict between the 
engineers and their coalesced masters, the notion that workingmen can "fight 
capital with capital" is, we trust, a dead absurdity, and a complete change ot 
front may soon be expected. 



NUMBER AND MEMBERSHIP OF BRITISH TRADE UNIONS, BY GROUPS 

OF INDUSTRIES, 1894 and 1895. 



Groups of industries. 



Building 

Metal, engineering, and ship building* . . . 

Furnishing and wood working 

Mining and quarrying 

Food and tobacco preparation 

Glass, pottery, India rubber, and leather. . 

Paper, printing, and book binding 

Textile 

Clothing 

Transportation (land and sea) 

Agriculture and general labor 

Miscellaneous 



Union a re- 


Membership 


» as far as 


porting. 


known. 


1894. 
Ill 


1896. 

208 


1894. 

174,284 


1895. 


186,605 


153 


219 


239,401 


243,069 


58 


89 


22,241 


26,086 


67 


78 


272,159 


268,384 


29 


40 


15,465 


17,442 


35 


61 


16,095 


19,216 


47 


53 


45,933 


48.674 


126 


211 


156,790 


197,035 


38 


61 


82,242 


83,823 


47 


56 


107,089 


111,084 


39 


44 


89,053 


75,458 


82 


130 


35,696 


53,228 



Total I 832 



1250 I 1,256,448 I 1,330,104 



* By the term ''engineering*' is meant such occupations as machinists, machine builders, 
turners, pattern makers, etc. 

The larger membership given in the above table for 1895 (namely 1,380,104, as against 
1,256,448 in 1894) does not indicate a corresponding growth in the actual number of trade union 
members. It is due to the greater completeness of the returns, 1,250 unions reporting in 1895 
as against only 832 in 1894. 



— 207 — 



EXPENDITURES OF 100 PRINCIPALr BRITISH TRADE UNIONS ON 

VARIOUS BENEFITS, ETC!, 1894 and 1895. 



Object 



Unemployed benefit 

Dispute benefit 

Sick benefit 

Accident benefit 

Superannuation benefit . 

Funeral benefit 

Other benefits 

Grants to other societies 
Working expenses 

Total 



Expenditures. 


Increase 
(4-)or 


1894. 


1895. 


decrease 


$2,248,133 


$2,121,775 ' 


—$126,358 


744,823 


926,353 


+ 181,530 


1,016,208 


1,157,259 


+ 141,051 


99.904 


126,840 


+ 26,936 


587,309 


632,231 


+ 44,922 


337,930 


368,282 


+ 30,352 


173,768 


131,571 


— 42.197 


427,230 


103.661 


— 323,569 


1,357,330 


1,246,763 


— 110,567 


6,992,635 


6,814,735 


— 177.900 



FINANCIAL OPERATIONS OF 100 PRINCIPAL BRITISH TRADE UNIONS, 

1892 to 1895. 



Year. 



1892, 
1893 
1894 
1895 



Income. 


Expenditure. 


Funds on hand at 
end of year. 


Total. Per head. 


Total. Per head 


Total. 


Per head 


$7,070,470 
7,877,540 
7,904,812 
7,561,105 


$7.82% 
8.75% 
8.52% 
8.29% 


$6,894,064 
8,980,576 
6,992,635 
6,814,735 


$7.63 
9.98 
7.57 
7.47 


' $7,707,699 
6,576,617 
7,548,394 
8,304,765 


$8.53 
7.31 
8.16% 
9.11 



CHANGES IN RATES OF WAGES AND HOURS OF LABOR, IN GREAT 

BRITAIN, 1893 to 1896. 



Items. 


1893. 


1894. 


1895. 


1896. 


WAGES: 










Separate individuals affected— 










By increases in rates of wages. . . 


142,364 


175,615 


79,867 


382,225 


By decreases in rates of wages. . . 


256,473 


488,357 


351,895 


167,357 


By changes leaving wages same 










at end as at beginning of year. 


151,140 


6,414 


4,956 


58,072 


Total 


549,977 


670,386 


436,718 


607,654 


Average weekly increase in rates of 










wacfts TT 


$0.11 






$0.21 


Average weekly decrease in rates of 










wa£res 




$0.33 


$0.34 








HOURS OF LABOR: 










Separate individuals affected — 










By increases in hours of labor 


1,530 


128 


1,287 


73,616 


By decreases in hours of labor. . . . 


33,119 


77,030 


21,448 


34,655 


Total 


34,649 


77,158 


22,735 


108,271 







i 



— ^08 — 



MEMBERSHIP OF 100 PRINCIPALr BRITISH TRADE UNIONS AND FUNDS 

ON HAND AT END OF YEAR 1895. 



Trade unions. 



No. of 
unions. 



Minor 
branobes 



Members. 



Bakers and confectioners 

Brush makers 

Building trades: 

Bricklayers 

Carpenters and joiners 

Painters and decorators 

Plasterers 

Plumbers 

Sawyers and woodcutting machinists. . . . 

Stone masons 

Builders' laborers 

Cabinetmaking and furniture trades 

Cigar and tobacco trades 

Clothing trades: 

Boot and shoe manufacture 

Hat manufacture 

Hosiery manufacture 

Tailoring 

Coach-making and carriage-building trades 

Engineers and firemen, stationary 

Glass trades 

Greneral labor ....'. 

Leather trades 

Metal trades: 

Iron and steel smelters 

Iron and steel workers 

Iron founders 

Engine makers 

Pattern makers 

Spindle and flyer makers 

Blacksmiths and strikers 

Brass workers 

Mining and quarrying: 

Coal mining 

Ironstone mining 

Quarrying 

Paper making 

Printing and bookbinding: 

Printing 

Bookbinding 

River navigation, dock and water-side 

labor 

Shipbuilding 

Textile trades: 

Cotton manufacture 



2 
1 

2 
3 
2 
1 
1 
1 
2 
3 
4 
1 

1 
2 
1 
2 
2 
3 
2 
5 
1 

2 
1 
2 
2 
1 
1 
2 
1 

11 
1 
1 
1 

4 
2 

4 
2 

9 



35 
34 

362 

1,032 

195 

151 

163 

48 

387 

70 

149 



61 
15 



390 

159 

40 

38 

452 

66 

46 
22 
138 
656 
61 
13 
44 
20 

34 
23 



191 



75 
365 

40 



Amount of 

funds at 

end of year 



6,997 
1,411 

27,623 

57,116 

10,091 

8,486 

8,146 

2,208 

25,503 

13,285 

8,406 

1,921 

40,720 
4,434 
3,386 

19,170 
6,808 
4,787 
4,671 

58,778 
1,064 

6.742 

5,000 
21,788 
86,219 
3,160 
1,432 
4,681 
5,751 



$23,291 
2,647 

321,841 

467,632 

75,329 

56,018 

47,195 

7,762 

132,719 

27,014 

39,823 

10,964 

152,876 

35,024 

326 

44,674 

119,643 
19,442 

131,809 
86,225 
34,372 

14,833 
24,795 
253,978 
1,151,385 
38,557 
16,823 
50,427 
29,111 



192,229 
2,847 
1,423 
1,469 


1,141,496 
9,110 
6,025 
1,859 


29,911 
4,614 


408,908 
31,369 


25,853 
53,376 


65,956 
941,025 



77,839 



1,087,196 



209 — 



Trade unions. 



Ko. of 
unions. 



Minor 
branches 



Members. 



Amount of 

funds at 
end of year 



Flax manufacture .^ 

Laee manufacture 

Woolen manufacture 

Transportation (land): 

General railway workers ,. 

Engineers and firemen, locomotive 

Street-railway employees, hack drivers, 
hostlers, teamsters, etc 

Total 



2 
1 
2 


5 

7 


2 
1 


529 
113 


3 





2,516 
3,528 
7,096 

41,918 
7,920 

9,548 



14,517 

122,276 

20;H1 

776,905 
230,735 

30,912 



100 I 6,229 I 911,866 | 8,304,765 



RE5CEIPTS OF 100 PRINCIPAL BRITISH TRADE UNIONS, 1895. 



Trade unions. 



Bakers and confectioners 

Brush makers 

Building trades: 

Bricklayers 

Carpenters and joiners 

Painters and decorators 

Plasterers 

Plumbers 

Sawyers and woodcuttlns ma- 
chinists 

Stone masons 

Builders' laborers 

Cabtnetmakiner & furniture trades 

Cigar and tobacco trades 

Clothing trades: 

Boot and shoe manufacture.... 

HM manufacture 

Hosiery manufacture 

Tailoring : 

Coach-making and carriage-build- 
ing trades 

Engineers and firemen, stationary 

Glass trades 

(General labor 

Leather trades 

Metal trades: 

Iron and steel smelters 

Iron and steel workers 

Iron founders 

Engine makers 

Pattern makers 

Spindle and flyer makers 

BloeksmitHs mad strikers 

Brass workers 

Mining and quarrying: 

Coal mining 

Ironstone xololhg 

Quarrying 



Contributions. 



Amount. 



111,913 
27.574 

187,472 

649,157 

72,769 

41.200 

70.243 

18,162 
118.207 
28.274 
85,913 
15.962 

199,434 
62.252 
19,558 

142,550 

66,162 
17,«1T 
90.6«L 
167,709 
15,602 

23,885 
11,938 
87»,365 
1.475,250 
41,229 
26,1818 
43,1R. 
S4;299 

1,002,090 

6,S14 

944 



Aver- 
age per 
member 

(a) 



n.70% 
19.54 

6.78% 
11.36% 
7.21 
4.85% 
8.62% 

8.22% 
4.63% 
2.18 
10.22 
8.31 

4.90 
11.78% 
6.77% 
7.48% 

9.67 

8.68 
19.88% 

2.68% 
14.66% 

8.54% 

2.89 
17.86%) 
17.11 
18.04% 
17.58% 

9.n 

6.96% 

6.21% 

.66% 



Entrance 
fees. 



$438 
418 

8,458 
16,498 
4.720 
1.353 
2,229 

640 
8.979 
1,898 
8,6U 

483 



180 
488 

1.6W 
725 
667 

4,1U 
49 

1,189 

24 

6,660 

22,444 



895 
196 

6,842 



Interest 
on funds. 



1219 
10 

4,497 

6.555 

886 

997 

472 

194 
822 
282 
190 
278 

2.107 
860 



887 

2,034 

8,221 

1.177 

780 

IVt 
889 

8,708 

28,496 

740 

689 



16,279 
84 



Other 
sources. 



12,910 
608 
• 

4.312 

12.283 

526 

1,270 

647 

88 
2.088 
1.407 
1,343 

29 

16,860 
1.882 
4,482 
1.747 

4,556 
238 
488 

1,696 
160 

404 



U,668 

16.517 

234 

2tr 



68 

12,646 
44 



Total. 



115,480 
28,610 

204,739 

684,493 

78,901 

44,820 

73,591 

18,984 
130.096 
81.861 
91.667 
16,702 

217,401 
94;1'74 
24;9)0 

146.CT2 

73,al38 
18;e72 
9M68 
164,604 
16,641 

2v,885 
1^861 
400^206 
1.537.707 
48.142 
2^^872 
«ikl96 
86,248 

1,087.757 

6.892 

978 



Trade unions. 



Papermaking 

Printing and bookbinding: 

Printing 

Bookbinding 

River navigation, dock, and water- 
side labor 

Shipbuilding , 

Textile trades: 

Cotton manufacture 

Flax manufacture 

Lace manufacture 

Woolen manufacture 

Transportation (land): 

General railway workers 

Engineers and firemen, loco- 
motive 

Street-railway employees, hack 
drivers.hostiers. teamsters, etc. 

Total 



— 210 — 



Contributions. 



Amount. 



3.825 

260,475 
36.024 

71.667 
623.739 

615.033 
13.685 
47.560 
23.418 

179.734 

61.308 

30.893 



Aver- 
age per 
memoer 
(a) 



2.60H 

8.71 
7.59 

2.77 
U.68V^ 

7.90 

6.44 

13.48 

3.30 

4.29 

7.74 

3.23V& 



Entrance 
fees. 


Interest 
on funds. 


Other 
sources. 


87 


15 


49 


4.044 


6.913 
78 

773 
26.435 


4.136 
205 

2,006 
14,809 


3.504 
22,469 




8.278 
297 

2.672 
379 


26,776 

418 

34 

1,299 


63 


633 


1.913 


15.398 


42,752 


691 


6.888 


3.071 


433 


350 


365 



Total. 



8.976 

274,568 
85.302 

77.849 
687,452 

650.087 
14,463 
50,266 
25,729 

239,797 

70,958. 

32,041 



7.095,153 I 7.78 | 130,578 | 139.240 | 196.134 1 7.561,105 



a The averages are based on the number of members at the close of the year. 



\f^. III. OTHER COUNTBIES. ' 

Trade XJiiioiis in France. 

Not until 1884 were the coalition laws so amended in France as to make 
the organization of labor into "syndicats ouvriers/' or trade unions, a pos- 
sibility. Even then the freedom granted was subject to many vexatious re- 
strictions. In the ten years that followed, thanks to the activity of the Social- 
ists, the "syndical" movement progressed rapidly. On July 1, 1893, there were 
in the country, officially known, 2,178 societies of this character, numbering 
408,025 members. Many trade federations had been formed, and there were 
also, in 36 cities, central bodies called "Bourses du Travail" (Labor Exchanges), 
for some of which the municipalities of their respective towns had provided 
public accommodations and a money subsidy to cover' a part of their expenses. 
The City of Paris had already, in 1891-92, erected for her Bourse du Travail a 
spacious and handsome building at a cost of 1,500,000 francs ($300,000), and 
made annually a liberal appropriation for the printing of labor documents, 
stationery, etc. But the great organization had hardly taken official possession 
when the Prime Minister Dupuy availed himself of a disturbance in the Latin 
Quarter, far away from the Bourse, and in which the working class had no 
part whatever, to invade the municipal building with soldiery and close it 
down, giving as a reason that the unions located there had not complied with 
a certain provision of the law, which required them to place in the hands of 
the minister of the interior (in other words, in the hands of the police), a list 
containing the names and addresses of their members. The Socialist working- 
men of Paris retaliated in 1893 by carrying 24 of the 30 seats to which the great 
BYench capital was entitled in the Chamber of Deputies, and the result of 
the election in the provinces raised to 58 the number of Socialist representa- 
tives in the national legislature. At the very opening of Parliament, Dupuy 



— 211 -- 

made a boastful, provoking and threatening speech, to which Jaurds immedi- 
ately replied. This was the end of Dupuy as a prime minister. On the very 
evening of that day he.resigned his position. Never did a rocket rise so high 
to fall down so swiftly. 

But the fall of a capitalist minister is not of much consequence to labor 
under a capitalist government The Bourse du Travail remained closed for a 
long time, and when at last it was reopened a number of trade organizations, 
including the powerful French Railway Union, refused to re-enter it, deeming 
it safe to wait until capitalism was abolished. Then, they thought, the work- 
ingmen would take possession, not m^ely of a little Bourse, but of everything 
that rightly belonged to them. And ft must be admitted that at the present 
rate of progress they will not have very long to wait. In a few years the mem- 
bership of the BYench Railway Union, for instance, rose from a few hundred to 
84,000. 

There is hardly a tinge of "pure-and-simplery" in the French organizations 
of labor. "No politics in the union" only means, there, "no capitalistic politics 
and no labor factions in the movement." A member that would vote for a 
"bourgeois" party would be branded as a traitor to his class. 

They thought at first of copying some of the benevolent, beneficent, "ben- 
efit" features of their celebrated British sisters. Upon an examination of their 
constitutions the Government's Labor Office found in 1893 that 487 of these 
fundamental instruments contained provisions for the relief of members out 
of employment. A schedule of inquiry was sent out. Of the 246 bodies that 
replied 159 reported that this clause had become a dead letter either immedi- 
ately or after a brief trial, for the simple reason that the workingmen had no 
control over employment, and under capi]|ilistic conditions enforced idleness 
became more and more the rule and steady work the exception. Only 87 out 
of 2,178 societies were known as having undertaken the impossible task of 
filling the hole, ever enlarging, made in the stomachs of their 16,000 members 
by the capitalistic system. 



STRIKES IN PRANCE. 

[From the reports of the Office du Travail.] 

Number of Strikes, Establishments and Strikers Involved, and Work- 
Days Lost, 1890 to 1896. 



Year. 



Strikes. 



1890 
1891 
1892 
1893 
1894 
1895 
1896 



I 



313 
267 
261 
634 
391 
405 
476 



Establish- 
ments. 



813 
402 
466 
4,286 
1,731 
1,298 
2,178 



Strikers. 



118,929 
108,944 
47,903 
170,123 
54,576 
45,801 
49,851 



Work-days 
lost. 



920,000 

3,174,000 

1,062,480 

617,469 

644,168 



-^212- 



Besults of Strikes in 1SQ6. 



Results. 



Strikes. 



Number. 



Siicceeded 

Succeeded partly 
Failed 

Total 



117 
122 
237 



Per cent. 

24.58 
25.63 
49.79 



Strikers. 



Number. 



Per cent. 



11,579 
17,057 
21,215 



23.23 
^.21 
42.66 



476 



100.00 



49,851 



100.00 



The great majority of strikes involved only one or two establishments. Of 
the 476 strikes, 384 involved but one establishment, 28 from 2 to 5 establisli- 
ments, 27 from 6 to 10, 21 from 11 to 25, and 16 over 25 establishments. 

Only 33 strikes lasted a month or over, and 72 over 15 days; 306 lasted from 
1 to 7 days, and 98 from 8 to 15 days. 



Arbitration in France. 

Many disputes which in this country and in England lead to strikes are 
settled in France without a recourse to these costly methods. The Councils of 
Prud'hommee are an institution founded by Napoleon I, who, despot as he 
was, took more interest in the working population, among which he recruited 
Mb armies, than in the proflt-making and substitute^huying class. Th^ are 
tribunals composed in equal number of employers, elected by employers, and 
of wage-workers, elected by their fellow wage-workers. Disputes, relating 
to non-payment of wages, non-fulfilment of contract, etc., are referred to those 
tribunals, who first try to conciliate, and failing to do so, render judgment. 
Many thousands of such cases are thus disposed of every year, And not only 
the number of appeals to a higher tribunal is an insignificant quantity, but it 
is very seldcun that an appeal results in a reversal of Judgment. Similar 
CouncUs of Prud'hommes have been established in other European countries 
— ^Belgium and Germany among them — ^where they give satisfaction. Em- 
ployers, however, generally dislike them and have in many instances opposed 
their establishment in various trades or cities, or attempted to have their 
powers curtailed by legislation, but with little success. 

With a view to the promotion of arbitration in other classes of disputes, 
which do not come within the jurisdiction of the Councils of Prud'hommes, a 
law was passed in December, 1892 (when the legislators began to feel and fear 
the growth of Socialism), providing for a council of conciliation when the 
dispute first arises, and for a council of arbitration if the strike has already 
been declared. This council consists of delegates^^ chosen in equal number by 
each party, and is presided over by a justice of the peace. If the delegates fail 
to reach an agreement, they can appoint one or more arbitrators. The sub- 
mission of a dispute to arbitration, however, is entirely voluntary, and the 
decision, no matter how arrived at, cannot be legally enforced. Under that 
law, in three years, arbitration was requested in 295 out of 1,430 strikes, and 
140 were adjusted as follows: In 29 cases the strikers were granted all t)ieir 
demands; in 75 they were granted a part, and In 36 they failed entirely. This 
law, of course, has not fulfilled the expectations of its promoters and is likely 
to become of less effect as the class struggle grows in magnitude and bitterness; 
but the Prud'hommes is a valuable institution, which relieves organized labor 
of much petty trouble and considerable expenditure. 



— 213 — 

STBIKES IN AUSTBIA. 

[PHrom statistical reports of the Austrian Government.] 
Number of Strikes, Establishnienis and Strikers Involved, and Work- 
Bays Ifosty 1801 to 1896. 



Year. 


Strikes. 


BstaliUBh- 

ments 
inyolved. 


Strikers. 


Per cent of 
strikers in 
total em- 
ployees. 


Days lost. 


1801 

1802 

1808 

1804 

1805 


104 
101 
172 
150 
205 


1,017 
1,510 
1,207 
2,468 
860 


14,025 
14,123 
28,120 
44,075 
28,026 


34.64 
57.36 
61.75 
72.50 
60.88 


247,086 
150,002 
518,511 
566,463 
207,845 



More than one-third (35.48 per cent.) of the total number of strikers in 
1805 were employees of potteries and glass works. Next in order with respect 
to the number of strikers came the building trades, with 10.13 per cent.; then 
the textile workers with 14.85 per cent.; then the metal workers with 13.18 
per cent.; all the other trades representing together only 17.63 per cent. 

The average duration of strikes in 1805 was 13 days. The longest strike 
lasted 122 days. 

Besults of Strikes in 1895. 



Results. 



Strikes. 



Strikers. 



Successful 

Partly successful 
Failed 



Total 




3,480 

17,310 

7,227 



28,026 



During the same year lockouts were reported in 17 establishments, em- 
ploying 4,521 persons, of whom 2,317 were locked out. Of the latter 2,183 
were re-employed and 134 were dismissed. The chief cause of the lockouts 
was the observance of the International May Day. 



STRIKES IN SWITZERLAND. 

[Compiled by the Swiss Labor Federation.] 
Offensive Strikes, Defensive Strikes and Demands not followed by Strikes, 

from 1860 to 1604. 



Years. 



1860—1864 

1866—1860 

1870—1874 

1875—1870 

1880^-1884 

1885—1880 

1800—1804 ^ 





Offensiye 
strikes. 


Defensiye 
strikes. 


Demands 
not fol- 
lowed by 
strikes. 




2 2 1 


10 




24 

43 

11 

2 

44 
63 


6 
12 
11 

8 
84 
54 


10 




30 




2 








44 




00 







— 214 — 

During the first five-year period nearly all the disputes a£Feoted only the 
printers, and most of the demands were amicahly settled without strike. In 
the two succeeding periods other occupations appear and the number of 
offensive strikes shows a large increase. From 1875 to 1884 the industrial crisis 
reduced the number of strikes and of demands to a minimum. In the sixth 
period business revives, the organization of labor reaches a high degree of 
efficiency, and the Swiss Labor Federation, supplied with a "reserve fund," 
becomes aggressive. The number of labor disputes increases rapidly, but the 
number of demands amicably settled equals that of the offensive strikes. On 
the other hand, capital also becomes aggressive and the number of defensive 
strikes is likewise rapidly increasing. During the last period the aggressiveness 
continues on both sides, but the number of demands amicably settled con- 
siderably exceeds either that of the offensive or of the defensive strikes. This 
is the period during which the spirit of Socialism begins to pervade the Swiss 
Federation. 

Strikes, etc., in 1895. 

The following is a summary of the results of the class struggle in the 
economic field for the year 1895: 



Form of conflict. 



Wage demands . . 
Offensive strikes 
Defensive strikes 
Lockouts 

Total 



Saccesa- 
ful. 


Partly suo- 
ceasful. 


FaUed. 


Total. 


30 


13 


1 
12 


55 


8 


4 


5 


17 


7 


1 


8 


-16 


• • 


• • 


6 


6 


45 


18 


81 


94 



STBIKES IN ITALY. 

[From statistical reports of the Italian Government.] 
Number of Strikes and Strikers, and Days Lost, 1879 to 1896. 



Year. 


Strikes. 


Strikers. 


Days lost 


Year. 


Strikes. 


Strikers. 


Days lost. 


1879 


32 ' 


4,011 


21,896 


1888 


101 ' 


28,974 ' 


191,204 


1880 


27 


5,900 


91,899 


1889 


126 


23,322 


215,880 


1881 


44 


8,272 


95,578 


1890 


139 


38,402 


167,657 


1882 


47 


5,854 


25,119 


1891 


132 


34,733 


258,059 


1883 


73 


12,900 


111,697 


1892 


119 


30,800 


216,907 


1884 


81 


23,967 


149,215 


1893 


131 


32,109 


234,323 


1885 


89 


84,166 


244,393 


1894 


109 


27,595 


323,261 


1886..... 


96 


16,951 


56,772 


1895 


126 


19,307 


125,968 


1887 


69 


25,027 


218,612 











Of the 19,307 participants in the 126 strikes of 1895, 11,788 were males, 
5,192 were females, and 2,327 were children of both sexes, 15 years of age or 
under. 



— 215 — 

The following table shows the percentages of success, partial success, and 
failures, by strikes and by strikers involved, from 1878 to 1895: 





Per cent, of strikes. 


Per cent, of strikers. 


Year. 


Success- 
fuL 


Partly 
sucoessfal. 


FaUed. 


Success- 
ful. 


Partly 
snccessiiil. 

1 


Failed. 


1878— 18J91 

1892 


16 
21 
28 
34 
33 


43 
29 
38 
28 
31 


41 
50 
34 
38 
36 


25 
29 
29 
19 
33 


47 
19 
44 
24 
40 


28 
52 


1893 


27 


1894 


57 


1895 


27 







From the above figures it appears that while the percentages of successful 
and partly successful strikes have almost steadily increased, the percentages 
of strikers benefited have upon the whole decreased. These opposite tend- 
encies were most marked in the year 1894. With a better organization of labor 
the small industries that are still in the competitive stage afford to the work- 
ers increased chances of victory; but in the large ones which have entered the 
period of concentration, defeat is the* rule in Italy, as everywhere else, and 
the number of workers affected by one defeat in this class of industries is 
usually many times larger than the number of workers benefited by a victory 
in the competitive industries. 

TRADE UNIONS OF HOLLAND. 

There were in 1895 a total of 668 trade societies reported, of which 28 were 
national unions or federations, and 640 were independent local trade unions. 
Thirteen of these trade societies were founded from 1811 to 1855, 7 from 1865 
to 1865, 37 from 1865 to 1875, 23 from 1875 to 1885, and 245 from 1885 to 1896. 
In the case of 343 societies this Information could not be obtained. The largest 
Body of organized labor app^rs to be the Netherland Diamond Workers' 
Union, with 10 branches, numbering 7,500 members. It was this union, im- 
bued with the Socialist spirit of solidarity, that some years ago brought back 
home at its own expense the diamond workers decoyed to America by our 
"protected" manufacturers. There are elsewhere "pure and simple" unions 
who favor the emigration of their members to the extent of buying for them 
tickets to foreign countries in order to "relieve" the "domestic labor market," 
but we never heard of any such union buying for them a return ticket. 




MISCELLANEOUS. 



BAILBOAD FINANCES. 

The capital stock and bonded debt of the railroads are about equal' and 
represent in the aggregate a sum of $11,000,000,000 (eleven billion dollars). 
But it may safely be asserted that the railway system of the United States 
could be duplicated for half that sum, probably less. Everybody knows, 
in fact, that most of this capital stock and even a sensible portion of the 
bonded debt of railway companies are pure (or rather impure) "water," in- 
tended partly to enrich their promoters, officers, etc., at the expense of bona 
flde "investors," and chiefly to deceive the public on the actual rate of profits 
in the railroad business. 

In 1896, the reported "gross earnings" of lines operating 180,891 miles 
were $1,125,000,000 and their "net eardtngs" $332,000,000. By these figures it 
was made to appear that the cost of operating, including expenses of all sorts, 
was about $793,000,000, or 70 per cent, of the receipts, leaving a net sum of 
$332,000,000 to be distributed among the bondholders for interest and the 
stockholders for dividends. Of this net sum the bondholders received $242,- 
415,000, or an average rate of interest of 4.50 per cent, on their bonds, which 
amounted in the aggregate, par value, to $5,416,000,000; whereas the stockhold- 
ers received $81,304,000, or a dividend at the average rate of 1.50 per cent, 
on the par value of their stock, amounting to $5,292,000,000. Poor bondhold- 
ers — only 4% per centf Poorer stockholders — only 1% per cent! 

Of course, no one is simple enough to believe that the actual cost of 
operating the roads is 70 per cent, of their gross earnings, and that the 
proportion of this cost to receipts, despite constant mechanical improve- 
ment and reductions of wages. Is steadily increasing from year to year (as is 
boldly shown by the annual reports of railroad companies and obligingly 
testified to by State and National Railroad Commissioners). The actual fact 
is, that— leaving aside the pickings or stealings of the officers, contractors, 
etc., and the various corruption funds with which the political parties, the 
legislatures and the press are bribed — the companies not only improve and 
extend their plant and other possessions, but really pay for all with their 
undivided profits. For it is with those profits, partly carried to their ac- 
count of construction and equipment, and partly used not only to redeem 
their bonds but to buy in their stocks, that they will in the end reach a 
point where the railroads will have cost them nothing and will be entirely 
owned by a few^ remaining stockholders. In 1895, according to the report 
of the Interstate Commission, the companies already held bonds and stocks — 
previously issued by themselves and bought in under favorable conditions — 
to the value, market price, of $1,600,000,000. 

BAILBOAD LABOB. 

The number of railroad employees fell from 873,602 in 1893 to 779,608 
in 1894. The companies naturally availed themselves of the crisis to dis- 
miss a number of their previously overworked employees far in excess of 



— 217 — 

the actual reduction in the transportation business, so that they might exact 
a still greater amount of labor for less pay from those who deemed them- 
selves fortunate in keeping their jobs. They dismissed 16,000 mechanics em- 
ployed in their construction shops; 30,000 trackmen; 30,000 freight handlers 
and other laborers; 3,000 clerks; 3,000 engineers; 4,000 firemen; 3,000 con- 
ductors; 3,000 switchmen, flagmen and watchmen, etc., making in all a grand 
total of 94,000 strong, energetic, willing workers added to the reserve army 
of the unemployed. 

In 1896, the new basis of exaction having been flrmly established, the 
number of employees increased to 826,620, which was still 47,000 less than 
in 1893.. 

The working of this great human force may be better understood if 
we divide it into four classes, as follows: 

1. — Administration and station 2. — Train service: 

service: Engine men 35,851 

General officers 5,572 Firemen 36,762 

Other officers 2,718 Conductors 25,457 

General office clerks 26,328 other trainmen 64,806 

Telegraph operators and dis- ^^^j ^^^^ 2 ...162,876 

patchers 21,682 

Station agents 29,723 

Other station men 75,919 

Total, class 1 ..161,742 

3. — Track service: 

Section foremen 30,372 4. — Construction shops: 

Other trackmen 169,664 Machinists 29,2572 

Switchmen, flagmen and watch- Carpenters 38,846 

men 44,266 Other Shopmen 95,613 

Total, class 3 244,302 Total, class 4 163,731 

The above 4 classes number in the aggregate 732,651 workers, but there 
were, besides 5,502 employees in the floating equipment, and 88,467 employees 
and laborers not classifled. 

According to the figures supplied by the companies themselves, the aver- 
age earnings of their employees ranged from $1.17 per day for trackmen, to 
$3.65 per day for locomotive engineers. The average compensation of "gen- 
eral officers" was given as $9.19, and that of "other officers" as $5.96. The 
best paid, next to the engineers, were: Conductors, $3.05; machinists, $2.26; 
general office clerks, $2.21; firemen, $2.06, and carpenters, $2.03. All the others 
earned less than $2, and most of them less than $1.70 per day. It goes 
without saying that all were overworked while employed, but that many were 
idle part of the time. 

BAILBOAD ACCIDENTS. 

The employees in the train service — engineers, firemen, brakemen, con- 
ductors, etc. — are of course those most exposed to loss of life or limb by 
accident. In the other services the danger is not considerably greater than 
in ordinary mechanical and manufacturing pursuits requiring the use 
of machinery. But among the trainmen, owing to the criminal avarice of 
the companies, the rate of mortality and permanent injury is simply appal- 



— 218 — 

ling. In the seven years 1890-1896, inclnBiye, the number of railrosd em> 
ployees killed was 15^87 and the number sulllciently injured to be n^orted 
was 187,619, making a grand total of 203,506 killed and injured, ehiefty amonc 
the trainmen, whose total nomber in 1896, as appears from the abore «La- 
meration, was only 162^76. 

Observe that these figures are supplied by the companies themselves; and 
they do not include the probably much larger number <tf injuries which for 
one reason or another are not reported, yet may ultimately cause the death 
or disability of the victim. 

The two greatest causes of accident to trainmen, are: (1) Coupling and 
uncoupling, and (2) falling from trains. In 1896, 229 were killed and 8,4a7 
injured while coupling and uncoupling cars; 472 were killed and 3,898 injured 
by falling from trains; making a total of 13,056 repented casualties in that 
one year on those two accounts alone. The first cause could long ago have 
been entirely removed by the use of automatic couplers; the second one could 
have been greatly lessened by providing the roofs of cars with low guard 
rails or some other cheap contrivance. But the companies have to this day 
successfully resisted the passage of any bill, intended on its face to oompel 
them to provide such life and limb saving appliances, but usually gotten up 
for political or blackmailing purposes. Some of the "pure-and-simple'* lead- 
ers of organized labor actually declared in the Railroad Committee of Con- 
gress that "the companies should be given timer* 



NTJMBEB of MILES of SAHJtOAD in OFEBATIOir and COHSTBUCTKD 
Each Year in the T7HITED STATES, from 1830 to 1896, inclusive. 



Year. 



1830 

1831. 

1832. 

1833. 

1834. 

1835. 

1836. 

1837. 

1838. 

1839. 

1840. 

1841. 

1842. 

1843. 

1844. 

1845 

1846. 

1847. 

1848. 



Id operation 
end of year. 

23 

95 

229 

380 

633 

1.098 

1,273 

1,497 

1,913 

2,302 

2,818 

3,535 

4,026 

4.185 

4.377 

4.633 

4,930 

5,598 

5,996 



Ck>ii8tructed 
each year. 



72 
134 
151 
253 
465 
175 
224 
416 
389 
516 
717 
491 
159 
192 
256 
297 
668 
398 



Year. 



1864. 
1865. 
1866. 
1867. 
1868. 
1869. 
1870. 
1871. 
1872. 
1873. 
1874. 
1875. 
1876. 
1877. 
1878. 
1879. 
1880. 
1881. 
1882. 



In operation < 
end of year. ; 



Constmeted 
each year. 



33,908 


738 


35,085 


1.177 


36,801 


1.742 


39,250 


2,449 


42,229 


2,979 


46,844 


4,615 


52,864 


6.070 


60,291 


7,379 


66,171 


5,878 


70,268 


4,107 


72,383 


2.105 


74.096 


1.712 


76,808 


^ 2,712 


79,088 


2,281 


81,774 


2,687 


86,497 


4.721 


93,543 


7.174 ' 


103,332 


9,789 


114,928 


11,591 



219 — 



Year. 


In operation 
end of year. 


Constracted 
each year. 


Year. 


In operation 
end of year. 


Constructed 
eacli year. 


1849 

1850 

1851 

1852 

1853.. 

1854 

1855 

1856 

1857 

1858 

1859 

1860 

1861 

1862 

1863... 


7,365 
9,021 
10,982 
12,908 
15,360 
16,720 
18,374 
22,016 
24,503 
26,968 
28,789 
30,635 
31,286 
32,120 
33,170 


1,369 
1,656 
1,961 
1,926 
2,452 
1,360 
1,654 
3,647 
2,647 
2,465 
1,821 
1,846 
651 
834 
1,050 


1883 

1884 

1885 

1886 

1887... 

1888 

1889 

1890 

1891 

1892 

1893 

1894 

1895 

1896 


121,455 
125,379 
128,361 
136,379 
149,257 
156,169 
161,353 
166,691 
170,769 
175,188 
177,485 
179,393 
180,912 
182,600 • 


6.743 
3,924 

2,982 
8,018 
12,878 
6,912 
5,184 
5,345 
4,071 
4,419 
2,997 
1,908 
1,519 
1,688 



TELEPHONES. 

[Statements of the American Bell Telephone Co., January 1, 1890, 1895, 1896 

and 1897.] 



Exchanges 

Branch offices 

Miles (rf wire on poles 

Miles of wire on buildings 

Miles of wire under ground 

Miles of wire submarine 

Total miles of exchange service wire, 

Total circuits , 

Total employees 

Total subscribers , 



1890. 


1895. 


1896. 


757 


867 


927 


471 


572 


686 


154,009 


232,008 


260,324 


11,484 


14,525 


12,861 


27,117 


148,285 


184,515 


603 


1,856 


2,028 


193,213 


396,674 


459,728 


156,780 


212,074 


237,837 


6,758 


11,094 


11,930 


185,003 


243,432 


281,695 



1897. 

96/ 

832 

286,632 

12,594 

234,801 

2,818 

536,845 

264,645 

14,425 

325,244 



This company practically conducts the telephone business of the United 
States. The aggregate length of wire operated is 805,711 miles (1897). The 
number of instruments in the hands of licensees under rental at the beginning 
of 1897 was 772,627. The number of exchange connections daily in the United 
States was 2,630,071, or a total per year of about 847,000,000. The average 
number of daily calls per subscriber is about 87$ . The company received hi 
rental of telephones in 1896, $1,450,033. It paid its stockholders in dividends 
in 1896, $3,361,233. The capital of the company was $23,650,000. Its gross 
earnings for 1896 were $4,538,979; net earnings, $3,383,580. The Long Distance 
Telephone Company represents about $20,000,000 of capital. 



— 220 — 



TEIiEGBAPHS. 

Mileage of lines and wires, number of offices and traffic of the Western Union 

Telegraph Company. 



1870. 



1880. 



1890. 



18»7. 



Miles of line 

Miles of wire 

Number of offices 

Number of messages. 

Receipts 

Profits 

EiXpenses 



54,109 

112,191 

3,972 

9,157,646 

$7,138,737 

$4,910,772 

$2,227,965 



85,645 

233,534 

9,077 

29,215,509 

$12,782,894 

$6,948,957 

$5,833,937 



183,917 

678,997 

19,382 

55,878,762 

$22,387,029 

$15,074,304 

$7,312,725 



190,614 

841,002 

21,769 

58,151,684 

$22,638,859 

$16,906,656 

$5,732,203 



The capital of the W. U. T. Co. is 100,000.000. In 1881 it absorbed by 
purchase all the lines of the American Union and the Atlantic & Pacific 
Telegraph Cd's, the former haying previously in operation over 12,000 miles 
of line and the latter 8,706 miles. 

The W. U. has exclusive contracts with several international cable com- 
panies and guarantees 5 per cent, annual dividends on the stock of the 
Am. Tel. & Cable Co.; capital, $14,000,000. 

The W. U. also, operates the N. Y. Mutual Teleg. Co., which it rents at 
6 per cent, on a capital stock of $2,500,000, representing 8,000 miles of line, 
60,000 miles of wire and 1,200 offices. 

The B. & O. R.R. Telegraph was bought for $5,000,000 in 1887 by the W. U.: 
6,711 miles of road, 54,087 miles of wire; also, for $550,000 (capital stock at par) 
the Am. Rapid Teleg. Co., with 2,684 miles of line, 20,370 miles of wire. 

The Northwestern Tel. Co. with over 8,000 miles of wire is leased by the 
W. U. for 99 years, which guarantees 6 per cent, dividend on stock and interest 
on bonds. 

FOFXTLATIOir OF THE UNITED STATES, 
White and Colored, in Each Census Year from 1790 to 1890. 



^T . » *■ 


Popniation. 


Increase of Population. 


Increase per cent. 


Year. 


White. 


Colored. 


Total. 


White. Colored. Total. 


White Col. Total 

1 


1790 

1800 

1810 

1R20 

1830 

1840 

1850 

1860 

1870 

1880 

1890 


3,172,006 

4,306,446 

5,862,073 

7,862,166 

10,537,378 

14,195.805 

19,553,068 

27,001,491 

33,678,362 

43,574.990 

55,152,210 


757,208 
1,002,037 
1,377,808 
1,771,656 
2,328,642 
2,873,648 
3,638,808 
4,441,830 
4,880,009 
6,580,793 
7,470,040 


3,929,214 

5,308,483 

7,239,881 

9,633,822 

12,866,020 

17,069,453 

23,191,876 

31,443,321 

38,558,371 

50,155,783 

62,622,250 


1,134,440 
1,555,627 
2,000,093 
2,675,212 
3,658,427 
5,357,263 
7,448,423 
6,676,8-/1 
9,896,628 
11,577,220 


244,829 
375,771 
393,848 
556,986 
545,006 
765,160 
803,022 
448,179 
1,700,784 
889,247 


1,379,269 
1,931,398 
2,393,941 
3,232,198 
4,203,433 
6,122.423 
8,261,445 
7,115,050 
11,597,412 
12,466,467 


35.7 
36.1 
34.1 
34.0 
34.7 
37.7 
38.1 
24.7 
29.3 
26.5 


33.6 
37.5 
28.4 
31.4 
23.4 
26.6 
22.0 
10.0 
34.8 
13.5 


• • • • 

35.10 
36.38 
33.06 
33.55 
32.67 
35.87 
35.57 
22.63 
30.07 
24.85 



FOFULATIOir OF THE UNITED STATES, 
in Each Year from 1891 to 1897. 

[Estimated by the Actuary of the Treasury Department] 



1891 64,062,000 

1892 65,403,000 

1893 66,826,000 



1894 68,275,000 

1895 69,753,000 



1896 71,263,000 

1897 72,807.000 



— 221 



Population by Occupation and Bex, in 1870, 1880 and 1890. 

[From the U. S. Census Reports.] 



s 

OccupationB and Sex. 


1870. 
6,141,363 


1880. 
8,004.624 


1890. 
9.013.201 


Inc. from 1890. 


Number 


Pero, 


Agriculture, fisheries and mining 


1.008.577 


12.60 


Males 


6,744,314 
307.049 


7.400.970 
594.654 


8.333.692 
679.509 


928.722 
84.855 


12.47 


Females 


14.27 






Professional service 


371.6^ 


mM 


944.323 


84i.lii 


56.g& 






Males 


279.347 
92.303 


425.947 
177.255 


632,641 
3n.682 


206.694 
134,427 


48.53 


Females 


75.84 






Domestic and personal service 


2.8WL.8W 


3,503,443 


4.360,506 


^7.063 


24.46 






Males 


1.329,242 
972.635 


2.321.937 
1.181.506 


2.692.820 
1.667.686 


370.883 
486.180 


15.97 


Females 


41.15 






Trade and transportation 


IMM 


l.$66.481 


z.m,m 


l,45d,4Sl 


V8.i9 






Males •. 


1,219.800 
20.361 


1,803.629 
62.852 


3,097,653 
228,309 


1,294.024 
165,457 


71.16 


Females 


263.25 






Manufacturln&r and mechanical 


^.4^0.872 


S,414,34d 


&,6&l,66d 


i.677.32d 


49.13 








2,096,982 
868,940 


2,788,469 
680.890 


4,064,144 
1,027.626 


1.280.685 
396,635 


46.01 


Females 


62.87 








i^MM 


17,8d2,0dd 


22.7^,661 


5.343.562 


30.72 






Males 


10,669.635 
1.836,288 


14.744,942 
2.647,157 


18,820.960 
8.914,7U 


4.076.008 
1.267.554 


27.64 


Females 


47.88 



POPULATION OF GEBICANY. 

The total population of the German empire in 1895 was 51,770,284, as 
against 45,222,113 in 1882, showing an increase of 6,548,171, or 14.43 per cent., 
in 13 years. This is a very large increase, and the more remarkable in view 
of the considerable emigration of Germans, chiefly adult persous, not only to 
the United States but to many other countries. The following statement shows 
the population classified according to sex and condition: 



POPULATION OF THE GBRMAN EMPIRE. BY SEX AND CONDITION. 







Males. 






Females. 






1895. 


1882 


• 


1895. 


1882. 


Condition. 


Number. 




Number. 




Number. 




Number. 


ggag 

^©253 


Persons gaining a 
livelihood in va- 
rious occupa- 
tions 


15.506,682 

25.364 

8.850,061 

1.027,052 
25.409.159 


61.03 

.10 

34.83 

4.04 
100.00 


13,372,905 

42,510 

8,082.973 

652,361 
22,150,749 


60.38 

.19 

36.49 

2.94 
100.00 


5,264.408 

1.313,954 

18.667,214 

1,115,549 
26,361,125 


19.97 

4.99 

70.81 

4.23 
100.00 


4.259.103 

1.282,414 

16.827,722 

702,125 
23,0717364 


18.46 


Domestic servants 

Dependents 

Persons having 
no occupation.. 

Total....... 


5.56 
72.94 

3.04 
100.00 



The following table shows the population of Germany in 1895, classified 
according to occupations; it shows also the total number of persons, working 
and not working, dependent on -the workers in each occupation. It will be 



— 222 — 

observed that the number dependent on agriculture decreased from 47.32 
per cent, in 1882 to 40.40 per cent in 1895: 



POPULATION OP THE GERMAN EMPIRE ENGAGED IN VARIOUS INDUSTRIES. 



Industry. 



Persons earning a live- 
lihood at theur prin- 
ciple occupations. 



1895. 



Number. 



Per 
cent. 



1882. 



Per 
cent 



Total persons dependent 
upon the industry. 



1896. 



Number. 



Per 
cent. 



Agriculture, gardening and live stock 

Forestry and fisheries 

Mining, smelting, salt and peat extraction. 

StoDe work and earthenware 

Metal work 

Machinery, tools, instruments, etc 

Chemicals 

Forestry products, .lighting materials, 

grease, oils, and varnishes 

Textiles 

Paper 

Lcitther 

Woodenware and carved goods 

Food products 

Clothing 

Building trades 

Printing and publishing 

Painting, sculpture, decoration, and artistic 

work of all kinds 

Manufacturers, factory hands, artisans, 

etc., of whom the industry cannot be 

classified 

Commercial pursuits 

Insurance 

Transportation 

Hotels, restaurants, etc 



8,156,045 
136,647 
567,774 
501,315 
862,035 
385,223 
102,923 

42,997 
945,191 
135,863 
168,358 
647,019 
878,163 
1,513.124 
1.353,447 
119.291 

28,546 



29,961 
1,205,133 

25,384 
615,331 
492,660 



J 



43.13 
.72 
3.00 
2.65 
4.56 
2.04 
.54 

.23 
5.00 

.72 

.89 
3.42 
4.64 
8.00 
7.16 

.63 

.15 



J 



60.12 
.72 
2.72 
2.05 
3.26 
1.76 
.36 

.19 
5.25 

.56 

.80 
3.22 
4.09 
8.23 
5.84 

.43 

.15 



.16 


.56 


6.37 


5.20 


.13 


.07 


3.25 


2.70 


2.61 


1.72 



1^,068,663 


40.40 


432,644 


.97 


1,847,307 


4.13 


1,316,641 


2.94 


2,152,789 


4.81 


1,041,127 


2.33 


289,526 


.65 


134,070 


.30 


1,899,904 


4.25 


306,547 


.68 


429,327 


.96 


1,688,592 


3.78 


2,078,607 


4.65 


2,973,700 


6.65 


3,705,773 


8.29 


251,503 


.56 


61,080 


.14 


76,748 


.17 


2,939,619 


6.57 


69,664 


.16 


2,002,706 


4.48 


954,856 


2.13 



1882. 



Per 
cent. 



47.32 
.97 
3.39 
2.25 
3.37 
2.01 
.42 

.24 
4.65 

.50 

.83 
3.45 
4.29 
6.86 
6.98 

.37 

.13 



.59 
5.73 

.09 
3.66 
1.90 



Total I 18,912,430 | 100.00 | 100.00 | 44,721,393 | 100.00 | 



100.00 



Capital stock of National Banks (July 23, 1897), and of State Banks, Stock 
Saving^ Banks, Private Banks, and Loan and Trust Companies 

(according to their latest reports to the Comptroller of the Currency in 1897). 



Groups of 
States. 


1 

National State 
banks. banks. 


Stock 

savings 

banks. 


P*rivate 
banks. 


Loan and 

trust com- Total, 
panics. 


New England 


$159,777,800 

195,269,875 

67,007,300 

159,653,967 

32,654,100 

17.790,000 


1 3,156,675 
43,117,700 
43,577,700 
77,297,450 
21,843,673 
39,683,890 


', 


$16,557,887 JlTO 492 SR9. 


Eastern 


1 32,500 

2,505,000 

14,700,000 

200,000 

8.761,930 


1 1,785,739 

1,664,678 

13,246.221 

519,517 

1,029,852 


78,577,240 


318,783,054 

U4,754,678 

276,730,764 

55,217,290 

67,265,672 


Southern 


Middle 


11,833,126 


Western 


Pacific 









Total U. S I $632,153,042 | $228,677,088 | $26,199,430 { $18,246,007 | $106,968,253 | $1,012,243,820 



— 223 — 



Aggregate Banking Power of National Banks, State Banks > Private 

Banking Companies, Stock and Mutual Savings Banks, and Loan 

and Trust Companies in the United States, for the Year 1897. 



Classification. 


Number 
of banks 

1 


Capital. 


Circula- 
tion. & 


Surplus 

and 

undivided 

profits. 


Deposits. 


Total. 


Commercial banks: 

National banks (a) 

State banks 


3.610 

3,857 

759 


1631.488.095 

228,677,088 

18,246,007 


1198,920,670 


$334,752,001 

102,359,024 

7,113.121 


$1,853,349,128 

723,640,795 

50,278,243 


$3,018,509,894 

1,054.676.907 

75.637.371 


Private banks 








Total for commercial 
banks 


8.226 


878,411,190 


198,920.670 


444,224.146 


2,627,268.166 


4,148.824.172 






Savingrs and Trust: 
Savings banks 


980 
251 


26,199,430 
106,968,253 




183.939.578 > 1 ^^ .Y7fi n.% 


2 149.515.043 


Loan & Trust Co.'s.... 




89.025.267 


566.922,206 


762.915.725 








Total for savings banks 
and Trust Co. 's 


1,231 


133.167,683 




272.964,845 


2.506.298.240 


2.912.430.768 


a 






Total all banks ,' 


9,467 


1.011,CT8,878 


198,920.670 


717.188.991 


5.133.666.406 1 If^^^Mfi 






1 " — ' — " 



(a) As reported on October 5, 1897. 

(b) Notes issued by the National Banks. 

Failures of National Banks. 

Since the establishment, in 1863, of the national banking system, until 
October 31, 1897, the number of national banks that failed was 368, represent- 
ing a capital of |61,627,420. 

Of this number 229, representing a capital of nearly $35,000,000, failed in 
the past seven years (1891—1897), as follows: 



Year. 

1891. 
1892. 
1893. 
1894. 
1895. 
1896. 
1897. 



Number of 

insolvent 

banks. 



Capital. 



25 1 3,622,000 

17 2,450,000 

65 10,935,000 

21 2,770.000 

36 5,235,020 

27 3,805.000 

38 5,851,500 



Total 229 



34,668,520 



From the above figures it also appears that as many national banks 
failed in the three years 1893, 1895 and 1897, as in the 28 years 1863—1890. It 
should not be hastilly concluded, however, that this shows an obvious ten- 
dency to rottenness in the banking organ of the capitalistic body. The banks 
that fail are weak institutions, chiefiy dealing with middle-class concerns 
and located for the most part in States where Populism flourishes. In the 
general list Kansas, for instance, figures for 29 failures, Texas for 22, Nebraska 
for 19, Washington State for 21, etc.; whereas Massachusetts figures only for 
3, New Jersey for 4, Maine and Rhode Island for none. Of the 473 national 
banks in New York only 36 failed since 1863, and they were of but little im- 
portance among the financial institutions of the Empire State. In other 
words the reported increase in the number of bank failures is only a sign of 
the rapid decay of the middle-class. 



— 224 — 



HINEBAL PBODUGTS OF THE UNITED STATES IN 1896. 

[Prepared by the United States Oeological Survey.] 



Products. 



Metallic, 

Pig iron, value at Philadelphia, long tons 

Silver, coining value, troy ounces 

Gold, coining value, troy ounces 

Copper, value at New York City, pounds 

Lead, value at New York City, short tons 

Zinc, value at New York City, short tons 

•Quicksilver, value at San Francisco, flasks 

Aluminum, value at Pittsburg, pounds 

Antimony, value at San Francisco, short tons. 

Nickel, value at Philadelphia, pounds 

Tin, pounds 

Platinum, value at San Francisco, troy ounces , 

Total value of metallic products 

Non-metallic (spot values.). 

Bituminous coal, short tons 

Anthracite coal, long tons 

Building stone 

Petroleum, barrels 

Natural gas .' 

Brick clay 

Clay (all other than brick), long tons 

Cement, barrels 

Mineral waters, gallons 

Phosphate rock, long tons. 

Salt, barrels 

Limestone for iron flux, long tons 

Zinc, white, short tons 

Oypsum, short tons 

Borax, pounds 

Mineral paints, short tons 

Grindstones 

Fibrous talc, short tons 

Asphaltum, short tons 

Soapstone, short tons 

Precious stones 

Other nonmetallic products 

Total value of nonmetallic products 



Estimated value of products unspecified 
Grand total, metallic and nonmetallic 



Quantity. 



8,623,127 

58,834,800 

2,568,132 

460,061,430 

188,000 

81,499 

30,765 

1,300,000 

601 

17,170 

163 



137,640,276 
48,523,287 



• ••••• 



60,960,361 



360,000 

9,513,473 

25,795,312 

930,779 

13,850,726 

4,120,102 

20,000 

224,139 

13,508,000 

48,032 

46,089 
80,503 
22,183 



Yalae. 



190,250,000 

76,069,236 

53,088,000 

49,456,603 

10,528,000 

6,519,920 

1,075,449 

520,000 

84,290 

4,464 

944 



1287,596,906 



1114,891,515 

81,748,651 

31,346,171 

58,518,709 

13,002,512 

9,000,000 

800,000 

6,473,213 

4,136,192 

2,803,372 

4,040,839 

2,060,000 

1,400,000 

572.344 

675,400 

530,455 

326,826 

399,443 

577,563 

354,065 

97.850 

1,365,262 



1335,120,382 



11,000,000 



1623,717,288 



SOCIALIST LABOR PARTY. 



The Socialist Labor party of the United States was reorganized and its 
present platform was adopted by the national convention held at Chicago in 
October, 1889. Until then the party had been an educational rather than a 
political organization. True, it had on several occasions and in several places 
nominated tickets, and some of its candidates in Chicago had actually been 
elected. But in those days the lines between Anarchism and Socialism were 
not as tightly drawn as they are to-day. Again, the hope of inducing the old 
trade-unions to place themselves at the head of a great proletarian class move- 
ment by jointly taking independent political action — a Jiope that for a fleeting 
moment seemed about to be realized in 1886 but quickly turned into bitter 
disappointment — ^prevented the Socialists from adopting against the * 'labor 
fakirs" those aggressive tactics which have since then made their party known, 
feared and respected throughout the land. Nor was their attitude towards 
side-tracking movements so sternly uncompromising as it now is. In the early 
eighties Greenbackism had been looked upon as a **step forward," deserving of 
support because, although side steps might not be the best way of advancing, 
such was apparently "the American way." Later, it had been chiefly through 
the instrumentality of Socialist delegates in the New York Central Labor Union 
that Henry George was nominated for Mayor, and even for some time after the 
Chicago convention of 1889 it was deemed best to benignantly smile upon the 
Nationalist abortion. In fact. Socialism never was at. so low an ebb on this side 
of the Atlantic as in 1888, after the collapse of the George movement and the 
execution of the Chicago Anarchists. The only attempt of the party to run a 
ticket in that year was made in New York City and resulted in a vote of about 
2,000, or hardly one-third of the vote cast the previous year for the municipal 
candidates of the so-called Progressive Labor party, which was nothing else 
than the Socialist Labor party- in very thin disguise. 

Under those circumstances the new departure of 1889, involving as it did 
a most aggressive policy in the economic as well as in the political field, caused 
so much surprise even within the party, that a number of its sections in various 
parts of the country, misapprehending disaster, refused to follow. But while it 
compelled the labor fakirs to unmask themselves and changed their contempt- 
uous "kindness" into venomous opposition, it soon rallied the scattered ele- 
ments upon which Socialism had to depend for its active propagation. The sur- 
prise increased and the policy was vindicated when in 1890 the New York or- 
ganization, having boldly come out with a State ticket, more than 13,000 votes 
were cast for it, all the counties but one showing the existence of a Socialist 
nucleus within their respective borders. In 1892 the party for the first time 
entered the national field by nominating a ticket for the Presidency. 

At the same time the effective organization of the party was being pushed 
with vigor and its active membership was steadily increasing. In 1889 there 
were in existence about 70 sections in a comparatively few cities, such great 
centers as New York, Brooklyn, Chicago, Philadelphia, Boston, etc., having 
each several sections. In 1893, the number had increased to 113, in- 



— 226 — 

eluding some in Canada, which later formed themselves into a Cana- 
dian Socialist Labor party. At the national convention of 1896, the Ex- 
ecutive Committee reported 200 sections in 25 States. 

As we write, the number of sections is 343, distributed as follows: Alabama, 
5; Arizona, 1; California, 16; Colorado, 8; Connecticut, 19; Delaware, 1; Illinois, 
10; Indiana, 16; Iowa, 5; Kansas, 9; Kentucky, 3; Maine, 3; Maryland, 3; Mas- 
sachusetts, 38; Michigan, 3; Minnesota, 6; Missouri, 7; Nebraska, 2; New Hamp- 
shire, 3; New Jersey, 11; New York, 39; Ohio, 40; Oklahoma, 2; Pennsylvania, 
62; Rhode Island, 7; Texas, 5; Vermont, 5; Virginia, 5; Washington, 4; Wiscon- 
sin, 5. The 26 State? in which there are 3 sections or more have effected a State 
organization. It must further be stated that in each of the larger cities, with the 
exception of Boston, the several sections originally existing have amalgamated 
into one. Greater New York, for instance, has only one section, subdivided into 
60 Assembly District, Ward and language branches. 



SOCIALIST VOTE BY STATES, FBOH 1890 TO 1897. 



States. 


1890 


1891 


1892 


1893 


1894 


1895 


1896 1 1897 


California 














1,611 


al,726 


Colorado 










• 


&158 


160 


1,444 


Connecticut 






329 




870 




1,223 


1,223 


Illinois 














1,147 


1,147 


Indiana 














324 


324 


Iowa 


. ... f 






537 




453 


910 


Kentucky 


1 












c68 


Maine 













dSZ 


e 


e 


Maryland 






315 






403 


587 


508 


Massachusetts . . 




1,429 


676 


2,033 


3,104 


3,249 


2,114 


6,301 


Michigan 






« 






f358 


f297 


2,166 


Minnesota 















867 


867 


Missouri 








i;l,63l 


1,537 




596 


596 


Nebraska 












186 


186 


New Hampshire. 














228 


228 


New Jersey 




472 


1,338 


2,018 


5,309 


4,147 


3,985 


4,360 


New York 


13,704 


14,651 


17,956 


19,984 


15,868 


21,497 


17,667 


20,854 


Ohio 






hilO 


1,867 


1,167 


4,242 


Pennsylvania . . . 






898 




1,733 


1,329 


1,683 


5,048 


Rhode Island . . . 










592 


1,730 


558 


1,386 


Utah 
















il24 


Vermont 












48 


/ 


• 


Virginia 


• • • • 4 













108 


528 


Wisconsin 








25,666 






1,314 1,314 


Total 


13,704 


16,552 


21,512 


30,020 


34,869 


36,276 55,550 



a, Local election in San Francisco. &, Local election in Denver, e. Local vote in Louia- 
ville. d, Local election in Rockland, e. No returns. /, Local electiona in Detroit, g. Local 
election in St. Louis. A, Local election in Cleveland, i. Local vote of Salt Lake City, j. No 
returns. 

Note.— The figures of 1892 and 1896 represent the vote for President. For the other years 
the figures represent the vote cast for State tickets, unless otherwise specified. The figures in 
Tieavy type in t^e 1897 column are the Presidential vote of the preceding year in States where 
no State ticket was in the field in 1897. 



NEW TOBK. 



itw I 



Allegany .... 

Chautauqua . 

CUoton 

Columbia .... 
Cortland .... 

Dutcbeas — 

I^BBex 

Franklia .... 
Fulfn & H'mllfD 

Geneaea 

Oreena 

HerUmer ... 

Jeffenon 

Kings 

L«wU 

Livingston ... 

MadlBon 

Monroe 

Montgomery . 

Niagara 

Oneida 

Ongudaga 

Orange 

Orleans 

OtBBEO 

Putnam 

Queens 

Rldhmond ... 

Rockland 

St. LawrPQce 

Saratoga 

S^beneclady 

Steuben 

Suffolk 

HulllYan 

Tompkins 



2W 


2U 












43 






B2 


as 


E2 




33 


38 






37 








4» 






« 






32 


33 






77 


95 








23 




21 






a.SBO 


*,3ai 






30 


3fl 


405 


387 


1.ffl4 


10,983 


E2 


U 






&04 


m 


IM 








7B 


13B 


m 


670 



129 


142 








40 


30 


IS 


82 


3 


20 


9 




1B4 


78 








17 


19 






SS 


2! 


33 





— 228 — 



Counties. 



Washington 

Wayne 

Westchester 
Wyoming . . 
Yates ,. , 



1890 



^^1 

^6t 



1891 



& 



I 

C5 



1892 






79 


95 


129 


84 


72 


119 


262 


292 


339 


43 


69 


54 


38 


25 


67 



•-a 



130 

115 

341 

55 

56 



189S 

¥ 

So 



1894 

"T 

e 



78 


36 


86 


37 


416 


306 


61 


32 


50 


12 



1895 

¥ 



1896 



8 

18 

560 

10 

9 



4i 

•d 

2 



4 

8 

388 

5 

3 



g 



o 



1897 



61 



10 


7 


10 


10 


461 


658 


5 


U 


3 


22 



Total I 13J04 I 14,651 | 17,966 | 17,866 { 19.984 | 16,868 | 21,497 | 17,667 | 18,362 { 20.854 



CONNECTICUT. 
Vote for Governor^ by Counties, in 1892, 1894 and 1896. 



Counties. 

Hartford ... 
New Haven 
New London 
Fairfield ... 
Windham .. 
Litchfield .. 
Middlesex . . 
Tolland 

Total .. 



1892 

63 
152 

• • • • 

27 

• • • • 

4 
23 

48 

317 



1894 


1896 


108 


271 


490 


672 


5 


12 


188 


202 


• • • • 

• • ■ • 


• • • • 

5 


21 


12 


58 


80 


870 


1,254 



MASSACHUSETTS. 



Counties. 



Barnstable 
Berkshire 
Bristol .... 

Dukes 

Essex 

Franklin 

Hampden 

Hampshire 

Middlesex 

Nantucket 

Norfolk . . 

Plymouth 

Suffolk! .. 

Worcester 

Total 



1891 



1892 



1893 



1894 



1895 



1896 



1897 



Op 
oo 



5 

83 

80 

274 
13 

128 
33 

147 

1 

53 

36 

402 

174 



CO 



2^ 

PC4 



4 
55 
54 

114 
1 

86 
8 

38 

26 

3 

177 

83 



Op 



5 
61 
61 

135 
3 

111 

18 

80 

1 

29 
15 

254 
98 






1 




Gov 
ylor. 


Gov 
ther. 


7i 03 


sS 


£^ 


g« 



8 


6 


125 


266 


127 


301 


3 


5 


324 


533 


7 


27 


224 


362 


31 


51 


212 


244 




2 


71 


98 


34 


41 


653 


897 


214 


271 



11 

270 

180 

5 

760 

32 
423 

82 

279 

2 

91 

42 
666 
406 



Sti 


>t:. 


ForPr< 
Matche 


For Go 
Broph 


2 


49 


130 


257 


103 


405 


4 


18 


370 


755 


7 


45 


209 


401 


29 


121 


175 


567 


1 


11 


60 


166 


16 


117 


729 


1119 


2T7 


517 






S 



8 

315 

371 

10 

1032 

29 

641 

93 

743 

177 

332 

1147 

1403 



1429 



649 



871 



2033 I 3104 



3249 



2U2 



4548 



6301 



— 229 — 



MASSACHUSETTS. 
Socialist Vote, by Counties, for State OfELces in 1897. 



Counties. 

Barnstable 
Berkshire 
Bristol . . . 

Dukes 

Essex 

Franklin . 
Hampden . 
Hampshire 
Middlesex 
Nantucket 
Norfolk . . 
Plymouth 
Suffolk ... 
Worcester 

Total . 



For 
Governor. 



For 
Lt. €N)v. 



Fop 
Secretary. 



8 


15 


13 


315 


304 


327 


371 


472 


486 


10 


11 


9 


1,032 


1,253 


1,319 


29 


56 


• 46 


641 


704 


747 


93 


124 


109 


743 


943 


1,020 


• • • • 


3 


5 


177 


197 


236 


332 


384 


347 


1,147 


1,493 


1,681 


1,403 


1,420 


1,915 



For 
Treas'r. 



For 
Auditor. 



For 
Genl. 



6,301 I 7,379 



8,260 



1 

11 


13 


23 


353 


331 


349 


513 


471 


487 


10 


7 


14 


1,554 


1,320 


1,404 


52 


40 


46 


782 


744 


684 


118 


114 


116 


1,136 


1,045 


1,094 


2 


4 


3 


240 


241 


259 


418 


413 


416 


1,770 


1,868 


1,700 


1,636 


1,579 


1,520 


8,595 


8,190 


8,115 



NEW JEBSEY. 



Countiies. 



1891. 



1892. 



1893. 



Ass'y. Frea. , Aas'y 



Atlantic 

Bergen 

Burlington . . . 

Camden 

Cape May 

Cumberland .. 

Essex 

Gloucester . . . . 

Hudson 

Hunterdon . . , 

Mercer 

Middlessex . . . 
Monmouth . . . 

Morris 

Ocean , 

Passaic 

Salem 

Somerset .... 

Sussex 

Union 

Warren 

Total 



1894. 

Ass'y 



1896. 



1896. 



Gov. 



Ass'y 



Pres. 



472 



16 
31 
17 
31 
3 

25 

204 

6 

463 

20 

11 

49 

10 

9 

3 

211 

8 

1 

7 

187 

26 

T,338 



512 

• • • 

670 



458 



378 



2,018 



156 

• • • 

131 

• • • 

• • • 

964 

• • • 

1,089 

• • • 

• • • 

165 



2,352 



452 

• • • 

5;309" 



17 

119 
21 

114 
11 
25 

843 

11 

1,117 

23 

64 

124 
43 
25 
10 
1,108 
12 
10 
15 

411 
24 

4,147 



I 






125 

• • • 

103 

• • • 

• • • 

893 

• • • 

1,120 

• • • 

74 
62 



980 



477 

• • • 

37834 



19 

126 

19 

97 

12 

28 

885 

8 

1,140 

8 

71 

64 

19 

26 

7 

940 

3 

10 

11 

447 

15 

37985 



1897. 



Ass'y. 



175 



908 

• • • 

1,532 



1,098 



647 



4,360 



* Not separately ascertaiaod. The aggregate 
men in 1891, was, as stated in the line of totals, 472. 



vote of Hudson and Union for Assembly,