Miners demanded an eight-hour day and wages equal to those paid in the nearby Pittsburgh coal basin.
Miners also sought to be paid for mining "slack" (very fine coal), and for "dead work" (laying of track, shoring up tunnels, pumping out water, and removing slate and clay).
The breaking point came when Keystone Coal and Coke announced that miners would have to begin using new safety lights and new forms of explosives—and pay for these items themselves.
In February 1910, however, the lower wage rates and new expenses led miners at Keystone Coal and Coke to meet and discuss their grievances among themselves.
[2] On March 7, 1910, Van Bittner, a UMWA vice president, arrived in Westmoreland County and formed a local union.
International union president Thomas Lewis had not condoned the strike, and criticized efforts by leaders in surrounding UMWA Districts to drum up increased support for the strikers.
But in March 1910, a special meeting of the UMWA international executive board voted to support the strike, forcing Lewis to grudgingly offer the union's resources.
The act led to internecine warfare in the union and charges that Lewis and his candidates were in league with mine owners.
[2] To end the strike and break the union, the coal companies began importing thousands of Eastern European immigrants to work the mines.
Coal company representatives on the East Coast promised immigrants a job and housing, and paid for them and their families to move to Pennsylvania.
The coal companies sought out recent immigrants who did not speak English (or who spoke or understood it poorly), and then used this handicap against the strikebreakers.
If workers tried to quit, the Coal and Iron Police prevented them from leaving and told them that they had to work off the cost of their transportation before resigning.
The abuse of strikebreakers was so severe that the U.S. House of Representatives Committee on Labor held hearings on whether the coal companies had illegally forced people into peonage.
Although the local sheriff testified that the strikers had committed no acts of violence, the state district court issued a sweeping injunction which essentially barred the union from use of public roads: The vague terms of the injunction led law enforcement officials to arrest miners as much as a half mile from Keystone grounds.
Other coal companies quickly asked for similar injunctions which "made marching, assembling or traversing public roads illegal".
The Coal and Iron Police patrolled company property and denied admittance to union members and supporters.
Union members were denied the use of post offices or the ability to enter local courthouses, because these facilities were often on coal company property.
[2][10] Simply walking home in a group from a union meeting on a public highway could earn a contempt citation and a $50 fine.
The coal companies claimed they had suffered economic losses as high as $500,000 due to the strike and strike-related property damage.
Twenty-eight officers in nearby District 5 and 17 strike leaders in Westmoreland County were arrested on charges of conspiracy, intimidation, violence and general lawlessness.
Local labor unions helped the 45 men post bond of $300 each, and instituted a special per capita assessment to form a legal defense fund.
[2][10] The Westmoreland County sheriff became so frustrated with the injunction that he refused to permit his deputies to patrol marches on public highways.
James Maurer, a socialist member of the Pennsylvania General Assembly from Reading, conducted a survey asking for information on State Police actions during the strike.
State Police troopers shot up towns "in true Western style", and fired indiscriminately into crowds or into tent cities (killing and wounding sleeping women and children).
Sexual assault (including rape) was disturbingly common, and at least one hotel manager accused troopers of promoting prostitution.
But all companies benefited from a significant slump in the demand for coal in 1910 and 1911, which leveled the playing field vis-a-vis their competitors.
Even though she was 73 years of age, Mother Jones agreed to travel to Westmoreland County to support the United Mine Workers in their strike.
[citation needed] A number of miners' wives had been arrested in the summer of 1910 for harassing strikebreakers and company security personnel.