The
Disney live action musical Newsies
was a big time flop at the box office in 1992 losing millions of dollars and
generating a mini-crisis for the studio.
It turns out people would not pay to see singing and dancing urchins
play out class warfare on the
streets of old New York. Since then the movie achieved a minor
cult following largely because the intrepid young hero was played by Christian Bale, who grew up to be the Dark Knight. The last installment of
that franchise will coincidentally open in theaters tonight.
After
languishing mostly in obscurity for twenty years, the writer and composer
conspired to bring it to Broadway this
year with some success.
The
real life Newsboys’ Strike of 1899 was
less charming and far more dangerous. It
was another chapter in the grim class war that was a staple of turn of the 20th Century life, albeit with
a somewhat happier ending than many conflicts.
The
1890’s was a period of heavy competition among the 15 major daily English language newspapers published
in Manhattan and others in Brooklyn.
Respectable broadsheets like
the Post,
Herald, Tribune, Times, Morning Sun, and American were challenged
by the more sensational Yellow
Journalism sheets, Joseph Pulitzer’s
New York World and William Randolph Hearst’s Morning and Evening Journals.
The
battle for circulation, particularly
between the Hearst and Pulitzer papers, was often literally fought out on the
streets with gangs of thugs hired to wreck delivery wagons, burn piles of papers
at distribution points, and assault vendors on the streets. Even the “respectable” papers engaged in this
activity to one degree or another.
There
were about 10,000 newsboys—and a few newsgirls—on the streets of
Manhattan and thousands more in Brooklyn and outlying areas. They were both cannon fodder and ground
troops in the circulation wars.
Depicted
in popular literature as plucky little businessmen rising in the world, most of
the newsboys, some as young as six years old and ranging to their late teens,
were desperately poor. In fact the
majority were homeless—orphans, run-a-ways, abandoned cast offs. Many slept on the streets. Some found refuge in homes for “waifs.” Some squatted in empty buildings. Others slept dozens to a shared room in some
of the city’s worst slum tenements. Some
still lived with large, impoverished and usually immigrant families who need
all hands to eke out a living.
The
kids were generally hungry, dirty, and cold.
They were also tough as nails and regularly brawled for control of the
best locations both with and without the encouragement of company circulation
agents. Contemporary writers sneeringly
compared them to feral dogs.
Kids
lined up as early as 4:30 in the morning outside circulation docks. They bought their newspapers by the bundle of
100. That was about all smaller children
could carry. Some had wagons or carts
and were able to take several bundles.
Before 1898 they paid 65 cents a bundle and sold them for two or three
cents apiece, depending on the paper.
The papers were un-returnable and kids generally stayed out until the
sold the last one. Often on the streets
for fourteen hours, a street hawker might make 30 cents a day, barely enough to
eat.
Conditions
had generated conflict for years. The
first recorded newsboy strike was way back in 1866 and there had been strikes,
mostly for reduced cost for bundles, again in 1884, 1886, 1887, and 1889. But none had been well organized or lasted
more than a day or two. Papers had no
trouble using the natural gang-like rivalries among the sellers themselves,
hired plug-uglies, and blackballing strike leaders to crush the strikes.
The
Spanish American War was a bonanza
for the newspaper business. Hearst had
practically created the war himself with dramatic accounts of the Cuban Insurrection and the explosion of
the battleship USS Maine in Havana harbor. Lurid accounts of action caused papers to literally
fly out of the vender’s grimy hands.
Taking advantage of the situation, all of the papers raised their prices
to 85 cents a bundle. Despite the
increased costs, newsboys were able to marginally prosper on vastly increased
sales.
When
the war was over, newspaper sales plummeted to pre-war levels or even
lower. All of the papers except those owned by
Pulitzer and Hearst returned to pre-war pricing. The papers probably expected trouble, but
were confident that they could handle it.
They were wrong.
The
street urchins had evidently been learning something from watching labor
struggles unfold in front of them on the streets, particularly recent street car and Teamster strikes. They
learned the value of mass picketing and of going after all avenues of the
papers' circulation. And they may have
been listening to street corner orators about the value of solidarity.
Although
sometimes portrayed as a spontaneous action, the refusal of newsboys to handle
Pulitzer and Hearst papers on July 20, 1899 seems to have been well planned in
advance. Manhattan vendors secured the
cooperation and support of newsboys in Brooklyn, then considered almost a
different world. For several days
thousands of boys from both sides of the East
River massed on the Brooklyn Bridge snarling
traffic and blocking circulation to the entire of Long Island. Similar actions
around trains bound for New Jersey blocked
circulation on the other side of the Hudson
including markets in suburbs like Yonkers,
Up-State New York, and Connecticut.
Almost
daily rallies of as many as 5000 vendors clogged key points in the city.
Amused
and delighted at the misfortune of their rivals, other papers, especially the Times
sympathetically chronicled the struggle, particularly the rousing speeches of
the strike leader identified only as Kid
Blink for his eye patch. Estimated
to be 13 or 14, he was credited with the organizing skills of a mini-Napoleon.
Whether he was the strike true “leader” or just a colorful
spokesperson, the Times loved to
record his speech in exaggerated street argot:
Me men is nobul,
and wid such as dese to oppose der neferarious schemes how can de blokes hope
to win?
Friens and
feller workers. Dis is a time which tries de hearts of men. Dis is de time when
we’se got to stick together like glue…. We know wot we wants and we’ll git it
even if we is blind.
The
papers fought back with everything they had.
Goons attacked rallies and tried to pick of individual strikers. Police were roused to bust heads and make
arrests. Calls went out for scabs,
confident in the popular maxim of railroad
robber baron Jay Gould that he could always hire half the working class to
beat up the other. But the strikers held
firm. And scab peddlers met with rough
justice from the fists and clubs of strikers.
As
the strike dragged on, circulation of the Pulitzer and Hearst papers plummeted while
their rivals profited handsomely from their losses. It was reported the circulation of the World dropped from 360,000 papers daily
to less than 125,000.
After
two weeks the press tycoons ran up the white flag. Although they refused to lower the bundle
price, they did agree to buy back unsold papers, which made peddling them
marginally profitable again. The
competing papers, with their lower bundle prices, also felt compelled to start
buying back copies, lest the ire of the newsboys turn on them.
The
reform was lasting. Unfortunately the
newsboys’ organization was not. It disappeared
along with Kid Blink and other colorfully monikered figures like Barney Peanuts, Race Track Higgins, Crazy
Arborn and Crutch Morris.
But
their victory lived on. And, I guess,
that is something to sing and dance about.
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