Reading the American Past: Printed Page 105
DOCUMENT 21–2
A Sociologist Studies Working-Class Saloons in Chicago
Progressive temperance reformers believed that saloons seduced customers into lives of drunkenness, crime, and debauchery. Many progressives also believed social problems such as saloons should be studied scientifically. Sociologist Royal Melendy investigated saloons in a working-class neighborhood of Chicago as part of an “Ethical Subcommittee” set up to study “the liquor problem,” as he put it. Venturing out from a progressive social settlement house in an industrial district of the city, Melendy discovered that saloons met major needs of working people. His study, excerpted below, revealed the gap between the realities of working-class life and the assumptions and preconceptions of many progressives.
Royal Melendy
Ethical Substitutes for the Saloon, 1900
In considering the subject “Ethical Substitutes for the Saloon,” ... [w]e must try to ascertain the secret of its hold upon our civilization. ...
The popular conception of the saloon as a “place where men and women revel in drunkenness and shame,” or “where the sotted beasts gather nightly at the bar,” is due to exaggerated pictures, drawn by temperance lecturers and evangelists, intended to excite the imagination with a view to arousing public sentiment. I am not charging them with intended falsehood, but with placing in combination things which never so exist in real life; with blending into one picture hideous incidents taken here and there from the lives of those whom the saloon has wrecked; with portraying vividly the dark side of saloon life and calling this picture “the saloon.” ...
The term “saloon” is too general to admit of concise definition. It is an institution grown up among the people, not only in answer to their demand for its wares, but to their demand for certain necessities and conveniences, which it supplies, either alone or better than any other agency. It is a part of the neighborhood, which must change with the neighborhood; it fulfills in it the social functions which unfortunately have been left to it to exercise. With keen insight into human nature and into the wants of the people, it anticipates all other agencies in supplying them, and thus claims its right to existence. In some sections of the city it has the appearance of accomplishing more for the laboring classes from business interests than we from philanthropic motives. ...
Hedged in on every side by law, opposed by every contrivance the mind of man could invent, the saloon persists in existing and flourishing. ... The saloon in Chicago is restricted by every kind of law, yet it sells liquor to minors, keeps open door all night and Sundays, from January 1 to January 1. ...
When the poor, underpaid, and unskilled laborer returns from his day's work, go with him, if you will, into the room or rooms he calls “home.” Eat with him there, in the midst of those squalid surroundings and to the music of crying children, a scanty, poorly cooked meal served by an unkempt wife. Ask yourself if this is just the place where he would want to spend his evenings, night after night. ... Is there no escape from the inevitable despair that must come to him whose long hours of heavy physical labor preclude any mental enjoyment, if his few leisure hours are to be spent in the wretched surroundings of a home, or, worse yet, of the ordinary cheap lodging-house, either of which must constantly remind him of his poverty? Are there not places in the neighborhood where the surroundings will be more congenial; where his mental, yes, his moral, nature will have a better chance for development? Are there not some in the neighborhood who have recognized and sought to satisfy the social cravings of these men, which the home at best does not wholly satisfy?
Yes, business interests have occupied this field. With a shrewd foresight, partially due to the fierce competition between the great brewing companies, they have seen and met these needs. The following table, made by a careful investigation of each of the 163 saloons of the seventeenth ward — a fairly representative ward of the working people — shows some of the attractions offered by these saloons:
Number of saloons .................................................. | 163 | |||
Number offering free lunches .................................. | 111 | |||
” ” business lunches ......................... | 24 | |||
” supplied with tables ................................... | 147 | |||
” ” ” papers ................................. | 139 | |||
” ” ” music ................................... | 8 | |||
” ” ” billiard tables ....................... | 44 | |||
” ” ” stalls .................................... | 56 | |||
” ” ” dance halls .......................... | 6 | |||
” allowing gambling ...................................... | 3 |
In the statement, now current among those who have studied the saloon “at first hand,” that it is the workingman's club, lies the secret of its hold upon the vast working and voting populace of Chicago. That same instinct in man which leads those of the more resourceful classes to form such clubs as the Union League Club ... which leads the college man into the fraternity, leads the laboring men into the clubs furnished them by the saloonkeeper, not from philanthropic motives, but because of shrewd business foresight. The term “club” applies; for, though unorganized, each saloon has about the same constituency night after night. Its character is determined by the character of the men who, having something in common, make the saloon their rendezvous. Their common ground may be their nationality, as the name “Italian Headquarters” implies; or it may be their occupation, as indicated by the names “Mechanics' Exchange,” “Milkman's Exchange,” etc.; or, if their political affiliations are their common ground, there are the “Democratic Headquarters of the Eighteenth Ward,” etc. ... As you step in, you find a few men standing at the bar, a few drinking, and farther back men are seated about the tables, reading, playing cards, eating, and discussing, over a glass of beer, subjects varying from the political and sociological problems of the day to the sporting news and the lighter chat of the immediate neighborhood. Untrammeled by rules and restrictions, it surpasses in spirit the organized club. That general atmosphere of freedom, that spirit of democracy, which men crave, is here realized; that men seek it and that the saloon tries to cultivate it is blazoned forth in such titles as “The Freedom,” “The Social,” “The Club,” etc. Here men “shake out their hearts together.” ...
In many of these discussions, to which I have listened and in which I have joined, there has been revealed a deeper insight into the real cause of present evils than is often manifested from lecture platforms, but their remedies are wide of the mark, each bringing forward a theory which is the panacea for all social ills. The names of Karl Marx and leaders of political and social thought are often heard here. This is the workingman's school. He is both scholar and teacher. The problems of national welfare are solved here. Many as patriotic men as our country produces learn here their lessons in patriotism and brotherhood. Here the masses receive their lessons in civil government, learning less of our ideals, but more of the practical workings than the public schools teach. It is the most cosmopolitan institution in the most cosmopolitan of cities. One saloon advertises its cosmopolitanism by this title, “Everybody's Exchange.” Men of all nationalities meet and mingle, and by the interchange of views and opinions their own are modified. Nothing short of travel could exert so broadening an influence upon these men. It does much to assimilate the heterogeneous crowds that are constantly pouring into our city from foreign shores. But here, too, they learn their lessons in corruption and vice. It is their school for good and evil. ...
The saloon is, in short, the clearing-house for the common intelligence — the social and intellectual center of the neighborhood. ...
For the large floating population of these districts, and for the thousands of men whose only home is in the street or the cheap lodging-house, where they are herded together like cattle, the saloon is practically the basis of food supply. [Our study shows that] 68 per cent. furnish free lunches, and 15 per cent. business lunches. On the free-lunch counters are dishes containing bread, several kinds of meats, vegetables, cheeses, etc., to which the men freely help themselves. Red-hots [frankfurters], clams, and egg sandwiches are dispensed with equal freedom to those who drink and to those who do not. ...
That the saloons are able to put out such an abundance, and of such variety and quality, is due to the competition of the large brewing companies. These companies own a very large number of the saloons in Chicago. Thus the cost of not only the beer, but the meat, bread, and vegetables, bought in vast quantities, is greatly reduced. Only a portion of those who drink patronize the lunch counter. ... I believe it is true that all the charity organizations in Chicago combined are feeding fewer people than the saloons. No questions are asked about the “deserving poor;” no “work test” is applied; and again and again relief is given in the shape of money, “loaned expecting no return.”
Another function of the Charity Organization Society the saloon has taken unto itself and exercises more or less perfectly: the laboring man out of employment knows that in some saloon he is likely to find, not only temporary relief, but assistance in finding work. That these saloons pose as labor bureaus is evidenced by the names placed above their doors. The significance of these names is this: Men of the same trade, having common interests, make the saloon that represents their interests their rendezvous. To the “Stonecutters' Exchange,” for example, men seeking stonecutters often apply. But information concerning positions is dependent more upon that gathered by the men themselves and made common property. Many a man has been “put on his feet” by just this kind of help, nor does he feel that he is accepting charity, but that he is as likely to give as to receive. He is asked neither his age nor his pedigree. His past history is not desired as long as he is in need now. ... Grateful is he to the saloon that was his “friend in need;” bitter toward those who, without offering anything better, propose to take from him the only institution that has befriended him.
Scattered throughout the city, within easy reach of any neighborhood, are saloons offering a form of entertainment to the people not unlike the cheap vaudeville. Passing back of the screen, we enter a large room filled with tables and chairs; at the end of the room is a stage. While men and women sit around these tables, drinking beer and smoking, the painted, bawdy girls entertain them with the latest popular songs and the skirt dance. The regular vaudeville bill, including the comic man, acrobatic feats, cake-walks, etc., is presented. The character of the entertainment is but a reflection of the character of the neighborhood. In some communities no obscene word is uttered, and but little that is suggestive of evil is presented. It affords an opportunity for the hard-worked men and women to escape from their stuffy homes and thoughts of poverty into a clean, well-lighted room, where with their families they can enjoy an evening of pleasure. ... Patriotic songs are never missing, and I have heard them join heartily in the chorus. Cheer after cheer greets the names of our heroes, as they appear in the songs of the girls. The sense of the masses on the Cuban war policy could easily be determined by their applause and hisses at the saloon vaudevilles. ... Then too prostitutes often come here and mingle with the crowd. ...
While it is true that a vast army of the laboring men and boys of Chicago find the saloon the best place in their neighborhood for the development of their social, intellectual, and physical natures, they find there also things which appeal to their lower natures. ...
Where is the respectable young woman, who is but one member of a large family, all living, or rather existing, in a single room which serves as kitchen, dining-room, parlor, and bedroom for the entire family, to receive her young men friends? Is it strange that she takes advantage of these [saloons]? Here her father goes; her mother and brothers are often there. They come here on cold nights to save fuel and light. Here, when a little tot, she used to come for the pitcher of beer; here, barefooted and dirty, she would run to hear the music of the German band; if she were pretty and could sing, many a bright ribbon did she buy with the money earned here. No, they are not all directly evil places, but the temptation is tremendous. How can a child, brought up in such a locality, forced to receive from the saloon even the common necessities and conveniences of life, grow up into noble and beautiful womanhood?
From Royal Melendy, “The Saloon in Chicago,” The American Journal of Sociology 6 (November 1900), 289–306.
Questions for Reading and Discussion