Below is a brutal and gruesome description of what went on inside the Chicago slaughterhouses in the early 1900s. It’s little wonder that there were so many brutal human murders committed by the men who had to work in this places to make a meager living.
The Trade of Taking Life
A calm young Bohemian stands on a slippery red floor, with a dagger in his hand. He faces a row of live hogs, each hanging by one hind leg. They move toward him on a sliding rail, writhing and squealing in fear.
One, two, three – plunge! One, two, three – plunge! One, two, three – plunge! At each stroke a squeal ceases and bright red blood spouts from throat to floor.
He pauses and nonchalantly whets his dagger. Then again, one, two, three – plunge! One, two, three – plunge! One, two, three – plunge! It is like the swinging of a pendulum.
Eight hundred an hour that endless row of hogs moves towards him and the endless row of carcasses moves away from him. All the while he works leisurely, gracefully, absentmindedly. His bare right arm is red to the shoulder. His leather apron is clotted with red. His little cap is spattered.
What is the young man thinking about, with his one, two, three – plunge! What are his dreams at night?
A slender man stands with a similar dagger beside a similar row of sheep. His task is harder, for the sheep wriggle more nimbly. His left hand grasps a fleece and holds the sheep steady, his right hand drives the dagger into the side of its neck. Then another and another.
This is a constant fight. He is red from cap to shoes. But there is no sound from man or beast. The sheep die silently, and the sliding-rail carries them on.
Cattle are huddled in a long line of pens, two to a pen. Scenting blood, they shake their long horns and bellow in fright. Two men, sure-footed and quick handed, move along with light sledge hammers.
A hammer is poised a moment, then flash-thud! A huge steer, with dented forehead, crashes down and lies quivering.
Flash-thud! His mate falls to his knees, dazed, and struggles to his feet again, moaning. The hammer has hit between the horns where the skull is thick.
The hammer-wielder watches, crouching. Then thud-thud-thud! There are two carcasses quivering on the floor.
The side of the pen opens, the floor tips, the “beeves” slide out upon the dressing floor. The agile hammer men pass on, the pens are emptied, and there is a rumbling and bellowing as other cattle are driven up the runways.
Once every 14 seconds a hammer falls and a great body slides from the killing pen. In one hour 250 living, breathing cattle become 70 tons of beef.
Source: The day book. (Chicago, Ill.), 25 Sept. 1913.
