When the Philadelphia and Reading Railroad went into receivership in February 1893, it triggered a chain of events that would result in an economic event that would become known as the Panic of 1893. The Reading’s woes set off a chain of crises in banks and other companies that relied on this major eastern railroad.  Many Europeans pulled their investments from U.S. banks, with the resulting loss of gold causing a run on the banks, followed by bank failures, a nationwide credit crisis, a stock market crash and the failures of three more railroads. Unemployment rose to 19 percent, and a series of strikes crippled the coal and transportation industries in 1894. It produced the worst depression that the nation had experienced to that point. 

At the time, there was no safety net for workers, no unemployment insurance and few charities to help the many in need. The federal government did little to alleviate the suffering of average Americans. Grover Cleveland, the former Buffalo mayor who began his second presidency in 1893, was strongly opposed to what he considered “paternalism.”  For example, when Congress appropriated $10,000 in 1887 to provide Texas grain farmers devastated by a drought with $10,000 in seed, Cleveland vetoed it. He maintained that "the government should not support the people" and that such aid was outside of the proper functions of federal government.  Further, he felt that such aid would encourage “the expectation of paternal care on the part of the government and weakens the sturdiness of our national character."

With so many Americans out of work, Ohio businessman and political candidate Jacob Coxey proposed the radical idea that Congress should authorize a vast program of public works to provide jobs for the unemployed. To advocate for the concept, he decided to organize a peaceful protest march on Washington, DC, the first of its kind. Though the official name of his group was the Army of the Commonweal of Christ, it was better known as “Coxey's Army.”  Accompanied by about 100 men, including many colorful characters, Coxey left Massillon, OH, on Easter Sunday, March 25, 1894. The group grew in size along its march toward the capital, and newspapers covered in great detail the movement of what they called a “Hobo Army.” Many authorities viewed it as a precursor to class warfare, and did everything they could to discourage it.

The group arrived in the nation’s capital on May 1, 1894. When Coxey tried to speak at the U.S. Capitol, police arrested him for walking on the grass and he was jailed for a month. President Cleveland ordered troops to disperse the group.

Despite Coxey’s arrest, other “industrial armies” continued to stream toward Washington for a time from all parts of the country. One of the largest and more militant groups was “Kelly’s Army,” which started out in California.  Its members included an 18-year-old named Jack London, who would later write the Call of the Wild. London eventually split from the group and rode a boxcar to Niagara Falls, NY, where he was promptly arrested for vagrancy and sent to the Erie County Penitentiary in Buffalo for 30 days. 

“Rybakowski’s Army” marched through Detroit, Toledo and Cleveland on its way west, picking up and losing men along the way. It wasn’t an easy journey; they walked in all types of weather on rough roads and were fortunate if they ate twice a day. In some areas they were greeted by sympathizers, who might feed them.  They even picked up some recruits from among the unemployed. In others they encountered hostility, where local authorities forbade them from stopping in their town. Some of these towns provided an “escort” to see the group out of town, while elsewhere residents brandished weapons to make sure that the marchers kept marching.  

Rybakowski did not originally intend to go through Buffalo on his way to Washington, but he heard that he might find a lot of support in Western New York. Like most northeast industrial cities, Buffalo was deeply impacted by the depression. Much of the city’s Polish community, many of whom worked in steel mills, railroads and other heavy industries, had been laid off as a result of the crisis. 

In late August of 1893, a “bread riot” broke out in and around the Broadway Market. Some 60 to 70 police were brought in to quell the unrest, and soon the 10 cells in Precinct 8 were occupied by about 50 prisoners. Speaking at the Broadway Market the day after the incident, Rev. Hartigan, a Methodist minister who worked in the area, told the Buffalo Evening News: “I have been working among the Poles for some time now and I know them pretty well. They are a quiet, honest people but they are dangerously stirred up now and I fear for the result.”   Local labor leader M.C. Norwood insisted to the Buffalo Express, however, that “What occurred yesterday was distinctly a bread riot and nothing more. . . . Many Poles are actually starving. . . and it was hunger that drove them to riot at the market.” Things calmed down a bit in the Polonia after that incident, but there was still much dissatisfaction.  

When they found out that Rybakowski was headed to Buffalo, local newspapers sent reporters to detail the impending arrival of the group.  The “Count” had an estimated 150 men in tow when he reached Dunkirk, and the group encountered much hostility from the authorities and residents in the rural areas of the Southern Tier as it moved toward Buffalo. 

Rybakowski marched his men into Hamburg on Monday August 20, led by a bugler and a drummer. The Buffalo Evening News compared its arrival to “circus day or the Fourth of July.” The “Count” had a polite meeting with various local authorities at a tavern at Big Tree Corners, including Buffalo Police Superintendent William Bull. The News reported that Superintendent Bull told the Count that there were already “crowds” of jobless men living in Buffalo without any money or visible means of support. “Have you any objection to my taking them with me and saving you the expense of feeding them this winter?”  asked the Count. The Police chief responded, “No, take 8,000 of them if you want to.”  

Superintendent Bull said that while he would not allow the group to stay in Buffalo, he would permit them to pass through the city. Therefore, Rybakowski made arrangements to set up camp on some land in Cheektowaga owned by a supporter, Michael Makowski. The group drew large crowds as it marched into Buffalo, moving from Seneca Street to Bailey Avenue to William Street as they exited the city and moved toward the Makowski property about three miles away. Before they reached Makowski’s, however, they came upon an eight-acre, fenced-in parcel about a mile-and-a-half outside the city limits. It was vacant property that Rev. Jan Pitass of St. Stanislaus planned to use for an orphanage, but the hard times had delayed its construction (Soon after it became the site of the Immaculate Heart of Mary Orphan’s Home.). “I guess this place is all right,” said the Count. “The Poles paid for it and we’ll camp here.”

The following morning the camp was visited by Erie County Sheriff Isaac Taggart, who had heard about the harassment the marchers had encountered on their way to Buffalo. “You and your men can stay here as long as you like,” he told the Count. “I am ashamed of the people of Angola, Hamburg and Silver Creek,” he said. “Their treatment of you, Count, was inhuman.”  The sheriff also donated 300 loaves of bread he paid for himself.  In addition, he told the Buffalo Commercial that the marchers “are not warlike and if they are fed they will be peaceful.”

The “army” also received a huge outpouring of support from Buffalo’s Polish district, even though the economic depression had devastated that community.  Merchants at the Broadway Market donated 1,000 loaves of bread, 400 sausages and various vegetables. Saloon keepers provided 1,000 cigars, smoking tobacco, two cases of whiskey and four kegs of beer. For the first time on their trip the marchers were able to eat three meals a day without having to beg.

Many thought that the “Countess” Rybakowska was responsible for the positive response. As was her usual practice, she went into the city in advance of her husband to talk to local officials and the community in order to expound on the group’s mission; that is, to convince Congress to help the unemployed. She would also explain that the marchers were men who lost their jobs due to the depression, and were not idlers or thugs. While the authorities often considered the Count arrogant or condescending, the Countess seemed to be well-liked. 

Along with wagonloads of supplies, many curiosity seekers came to the camp, and they were charged 10 cents if they wanted to see inside.  However, the Count didn’t seem to draw a large number of new recruits from Buffalo’s Polonia, even though he spoke at places like the Kosciuszko Hall on Broadway and Sweet Street and the Sobieski Hall at Broadway and the Belt Line to  explain his call for “evolution without revolution.”

While Buffalo’s Polonia was sympathetic to the “great cause,” local Poles were reluctant to join the army. If they did so they would have had to leave their homes and families for months to travel some 400 miles to Washington, not knowing what kinds of conditions they’d encounter and how successful they would be.  For their part, Rybakowski’s men seemed to be content to stay in Erie County for a while; for the first time in a long time, the men were relatively comfortable and well-fed.

The Count had a surprisingly cordial relationship with Erie County Sheriff Isaac Taggart, who seemed to have compassion for the marchers, unlike most men in positions of authority. The Sheriff was widely criticized in the newspapers for his sympathetic stance. At that time, there was a great deal of civil unrest throughout the country, from the May Day workers’ riots in Cleveland to the very violent and disruptive Pullman Railroad Strike. Many were afraid that the march on Washington would also turn violent.

The relationship between the Count and the Sheriff did not remain amicable, however. Perhaps the Sheriff grew tired of dealing with the Rybakowski and his army, or perhaps he was pressured by the local political establishment. Whatever the reason, a couple of days after he told the Count that the men could stay as long as they wanted, the Sheriff ordered the group to break camp and leave the county. When the Count and his men refused to leave, Taggart took action. On the afternoon of Friday August 24, over 30 sheriff’s deputies, led by Deputy Sheriff Louis Herman, descended on the camp. What ensued was a brief but intense skirmish that the newspapers called “The Battle of Hobo Run.”  Deputies with pistols and clubs, some on horseback, attacked the encampment.  Within minutes, Rybakowski and his supporters were gone, either taken out in paddy wagons or ambulances, or having fled into the surrounding area. 

Contemporary newspaper accounts differ, but it appears that about 100 men were arrested for vagrancy and 20 were hospitalized, two with serious injuries. Two deputies were injured. The newspapers expressed surprise that no one was killed.

Before long, the movement initiated by Jacob Coxey dissipated, and the calls for the federal government to intervene by creating jobs for the unemployed mostly fell on deaf ears in Washington.  Cleveland’s presidency did not survive; unpopular and abandoned by his party, he was not nominated to run for re-election in 1896. The U.S. economy started to recover in 1897.

While Coxey’s Army did not have an immediate impact on public policy, it did help shift American attitudes toward unemployment and the needy. Decades later, with the nation in the midst of another great depression, President Franklin Delano Roosevelt incorporated many of its ideas into what became the New Deal.  In addition, the tactics used by Coxey's Army, particularly the mass march on Washington DC, would influence how labor and protest movements would attempt to gain public support for years to come.

Thomas M. Tarapacki is the Director of Telecommunications, Utilities and Franchises for the City of Buffalo. He has had one book published, Chasing the American Dream, and has had articles in various local and national publications.