HOW THE BLOWS WHICH CAUSED THE DEATH KNELL OF THE KNIGHTS OF LABOR WERE
ADMINISTERED.--STIRRING SCENES AND INCIDENTS CONNECTED WITH THE BIG
STRIKE OF 1886.
If you have an ambition to lead a strenuous life, young man, and feel
that excitement would serve as a tonic for your nervous system, and you
want to gratify your ambition and secure the tonic in greater than
homeopathic doses, both at the same time, just get yourself appointed
chief special agent of a big railroad during a general strike. I am
"dopeing" you right, for I have been "on the job" on several occasions
during a strike, consequently know what I am writing about. The most
strenuous thirty days of my long career, however, were the thirty days
in 1886, when the whole southwestern system of Gould roads were tied up,
and there was nothing doing in the traffic line. While there had been
differences between the shopmen and the company for some time, these
differences were considered trivial, and neither side had expected that
they would result in a strike, consequently neither the men nor the
company were prepared for the struggle when it began--at ten o'clock on
the morning of the 4th of March. The shopmen, as well as many other
employes of the Gould roads, including engineers, firemen and trainmen,
were nearly all members of the Knights of Labor. Organizers and
professional labor agitators had been busy all along the line for
months, coaxing and coercing the men into the order. Martin Irons had
been selected as chairman of the grievance committee, and while in Texas
attending a meeting of the committee, called the strike, without
consulting the national officers of the organization, a violation of one
of the order's most stringent rules. He afterwards admitted that he
would not have called the strike had he been sober.
[Illustration: MARTIN IRONS.
Chairman of the Knights of Labor strike committee on the Gould System in
1886.]
Irons was a little weazen-faced Scotch-Irishman, with a past--as most of
these professional labor agitators have. At the time of the strike he
was on the payroll as a machinist of the Pacific Company at Sedalia,
where he was living with what is now-a-days called an affinity, he
having deserted his wife and several children in Ray County years
before. He was thoroughly unreliable, a drunkard, and was hated by most
of his followers. There were two redeeming things about him, however. A
good voice was one of them. He could have earned a large salary as a
train-caller or a barker for a tent show, and he was a good actor.
Notwithstanding his repulsive appearance, and the fact that the shopmen
did not like him, he could sway them as he pleased, if granted the
privilege of addressing them--fill them with either tears or
indignation, as best suited the occasion. He never made a speech in his
life, though, during which he did not pay his respects to me and my men,
and tell how we were shadowing and hounding him day and night. He did
this to create sympathy. As a matter of fact, there never was a time
when any of Gould's c-a-p-i-t-a-l-i-s-t-i-c b-l-o-o-d h-o-u-n-d-s, to
use his own favorite expression, were ever on his trail. He was always
regarded by my men and myself as a harmless demagogue, and not capable
of doing anything that would cause us much trouble. In fact, the only
thing he ever did in which he did not leave a trail behind him as wide
as a railroad right-of-way, was the wire-tapping job he supervised
during the strike, which will be referred to later.
As stated previously, the strike was called at ten o'clock on the
morning of March 4, 1886. The sound of the big whistle, the blowing of
which was the signal for the men to quit work, had hardly died away
before the main yards of the company at St. Louis, which were just west
of the old Twelfth St. station, were filled with a mob of at least ten
thousand Knights of Labor and sympathizers. The company's shops at
Chouteau and 29th Streets were also at once taken possession of by the
strikers and their friends. Notwithstanding the fact that many of the
employes of the company were loyal, and did not want to leave their
jobs, these demonstrations caused them to do so. A call was sent in to
police headquarters by General Superintendent Kerrigan, who was in
charge of the operation of the Missouri Pacific and Iron Mountain roads,
in the absence of Vice-President and General Manager Hoxie, who was
detained at his home on account of illness, asking for police protection
for the company's loyal employes and property. Maj. Lawrence Harrigan,
then chief of police, responded to this call by detailing Sergt. Jack
Campbell, who was afterwards chief of police, and eighteen men for duty
on the company's property. The reader can easily imagine the predicament
in which this little handful of officers found themselves in attempting
to handle a mob of at least ten thousand. On orders from Mr. Kerrigan, I
secured three engines and crews, and we began to make up a train. At
this sign of activity the mob became frantic. Two of the engines were
soon derailed and disabled. I then placed my force of special officers,
which consisted of but a few men, on the remaining engine, and attempted
to continue the switching of cars in order to get out a train of
perishable goods, but we could not make any headway, as the mob pulled
the pins, threw switches, derailed cars and otherwise interfered with
the work. After a couple of hours had been thus consumed, I suggested to
Mr. Kerrigan that we had furnished enough entertainment for the mob for
one day, and told him I was going to take the engine to the round house
to keep it from being disabled. "Do you think you can succeed in doing
it, Tom?" asked Mr. Kerrigan. "I will do my best," I replied. "For
goodness sake, do it, then, and when you get through come to my office
as I want to consult with you."
The engine, which had been abandoned by the engineer and fireman, was
standing just east of 12th St., a portion of it being under the viaduct
which spanned that thoroughfare. The viaduct was lined with spectators
and strikers and their sympathizers, many of the latter being armed with
paving stones, links, pins, etc. As I climbed aboard the cab some
miscreant hurled a paving stone at me. It came within a few inches of
landing on my head. It is needless to state that if it had struck me I
would not be writing this story. David R. Francis, at that time Mayor of
St. Louis, was viewing the situation from the viaduct, and witnessed the
attempt on my life. Turning to Robert S. McDonald, former Circuit
Attorney, and a well-known lawyer, the Mayor exclaimed, "That man
Furlong will get killed by that mob." After the incident, I espied the
engineer standing in the crowd. I called to him in a loud voice, "Come
here and let us take this engine to the roundhouse." On hearing this a
mighty shout went up from the mob, and there was much rejoicing and
clapping of hands, they thinking they had achieved a great victory--just
what I wanted them to think. The engineer climbed on the engine and we
made the trip to the roundhouse without molestation.
After the engine had been safely placed in its stall, I went at once to
the office of General Superintendent Kerrigan. After thoroughly
discussing the situation which confronted us, I suggested that he call
on Judge Portis, at that time General Attorney of the Missouri Pacific,
and insist on him preparing a legal notice to be served on the Mayor and
Police Board and sheriff of St. Louis, setting forth that the company
was being hindered in the operation of its property within the City and
County of St. Louis, and State of Missouri, by a mob; that the company
had many hundred thousand dollars' worth of perishable property in its
cars in the yards in St. Louis, and also had plenty of competent and
loyal employes who were willing and anxious to do the work of switching
the cars and running the trains, but were prevented from doing so by
said mob. Therefore, the company, after the serving of this notice,
intended to hold the said city and county and state liable for all
damages sustained by the company by reason of said mob's interference,
as aforesaid. Mr. Kerrigan, acting on this suggestion, immediately
called in Judge Portis, C. G. Warner, general auditor, W. H. Newman, the
general freight traffic manager, and some other officers of the road,
and had me repeat the suggestion to them, which I did. The attorney did
not take kindly to the proposition at first, but at the demand of Mr.
Kerrigan the notices were prepared, and later served on the officials
named.
The receiving of these notices by the officials awakened them to their
responsibilities. That evening a meeting of the Police Board was called
by President Blair, and at its close an order was issued to Chief of
Police Harrigan, instructing him to don his uniform early the next
morning and lead every available man in the department to the Missouri
Pacific yards, where he was to so station his men that none but loyal
employes could enter the yards. The board's orders were carried out, the
chief causing a line of men to be formed around the yards before the
strikers had entered upon the property of the company.
At the head of a force of twenty-eight men, including a full train crew,
conductor, engineer, fireman and three brakemen, I made up a train of
ten cars and started west with them. We were not molested until we
arrived at the Compton Avenue crossing. At this point a number of
strikers under the leadership of a notorious agitator named Geary, were
seen on the track. Each striker carried a small American flag, which
they stuck up in the middle of the track at the crossing, and then every
one began signalling us to stop, shouting to us that "we did not dare
run over an American flag."
I want to state right here, that no man in this country has a greater
respect for Old Glory than I have. I put in four years, one month and
eight days defending it on one occasion, and thus helped to make it what
it is today, and it made me feel pretty bad to see it put to the use it
was on this occasion, and it is the only time in my life that I failed
to pay the flag the respect due it. To make the story shorter, we paid
no attention to the flags, and would have run over the mob had they not
skeedaddled out of the way of that train.
At the city limits, Sergt. Campbell, who had been riding on the engine
with me, left the train, and we continued on our journey westward.
Sitting on the running board on either side of the engine I had two men,
Billy Bonnell and Mike Gibbons, each armed with a shot gun. On the
deadwood, or cowcatcher, in front of the engine, I had two other men,
Jim McCane and W. K. Moir, each armed with revolvers, and each carrying
a clawbar. We had expected to find some spiked switches, and these
clawbars were to be used in pulling the spikes. The balance of my
guards, all armed, were placed in the caboose and on top of the box
cars. No trouble was encountered until we neared Pacific. We pulled into
the town slowly, with all brakes set, so there would be no slack in the
train, thus making it impossible for any one to dodge in between the
cars and pull the pins, thus uncoupling the cars. We knew a lot of
strikers had gone out to Pacific over the Frisco that morning, and
expected trouble on arriving at that town. We were not disappointed. The
first switch encountered had been turned for the side tracks and spiked,
as had every other switch leading from the main line. My men who were
armed with clawbars soon pulled the spikes and reset the switches and we
slowly creeped into the town. The strikers were holding a meeting in an
old brick house on the first road east of Pacific, but on hearing our
train coming the meeting was broken up and the men ran to a sand bin
located just east of the depot and took refuge behind it. As our train
pulled by this sand bin at least 100 shots were fired at the train.
Strange to say, not one of my men was hurt, but the cab and caboose and
some of the cars were badly splintered by the bullets. After pulling by
the sand bin the mob ran after the train, and one of the leaders, named
Davis, picked up a drawbar and rushed to the front of the caboose, which
he was enabled to do as we were running so slowly, and attempted to
throw the draw bar under the front wheels of the caboose, for the
purpose of derailing it. He would probably have succeeded had not
Marshall F. McDonald, the noted St. Louis attorney, who had volunteered
to act as one of my guards, saw what the man was attempting to do. The
lawyer was so enraged at Davis' audacity that he picked up a coupling
pin, which was lying on the platform of the caboose, and hit the striker
over the head with it. It is needless to add that we had no more trouble
with Davis that day, as he went down for the count, as the sporting
writer would put it.
When we were fired upon by the mob entrenched behind the sand bin, I had
hard work to control my men, they wanting to return the fire. I had
previously told them not to fire a shot without my orders, but in the
event I was compelled to order them to fire, I had instructed them to
shoot to kill. After the first volley, and there being no return fire,
the strikers concluded the guards were afraid to shoot, and immediately
set about to uncouple the train. In this they were foiled, as they could
not pull the pins. They then tried to climb to the top of the cars for
the purpose of disarming the guards and throwing them from the train. In
this they were again foiled, for the guards, using their weapons for
clubs, beat them off. As soon as a striker's head appeared at the top of
the ladder he received a blow over it that caused him to either fall to
the ground or scamper back down the ladder. Many of them were badly
injured, either from the fall or the blow from the weapon in the hands
of the guards. One of the mob singled me out and kept peppering away at
me with a revolver. One of my men, Mike Gibbons, from his seat on the
running board of the engine, and who was armed with a shotgun, wanted to
"get" this man, but I would not let him do it. The fight was fast and
furious, however, and lasted until our train had passed through the
town.
Our train met with no further trouble of importance until we arrive at
Chamois, the end of the first freight division. Here the foreman of the
round house had deserted his post and joined the strikers, and was
acting as leader, and not one of the company's employes were on
duty--that is, for the company. As soon as we pulled in the strikers
surrounded the train, but attempted no acts of violence, they evidently
being over-awed at the sight of the twenty-two armed guards. I made a
short but "impressive" talk to the men, using as near as I can recall
it, the following language:
"Gentlemen, I am special agent of the Missouri Pacific Railroad. These
men you see with me here are in my department. We have no grievances
against the company and are in no way interested in this strike, except
to protect life and property. I want to convey to you, Mr. Foreman, the
thanks of the management of the company to yourself and your associates
for the good care you have taken of the company's property. I am here
now with these men to relieve you of any further responsibility in the
matter, and all of you are hereby notified to get off and stay off of
the company's right-of-way until the trouble has been satisfactorily
adjusted. If you attempt to get back on the right-of-way, or in any
manner attempt to interfere with my men while in the discharge of their
duties, or with the movement of trains, or commit other depredations,
you are liable to get shot."
At the conclusion of my talk the strikers left the company's premises.
On investigation I found 19 "dead" engines, that is, 19 engines from
which the water had been removed. The supply water tank was also as dry
as the proverbial powder horn, and the pumping machinery disabled, parts
of the engine having been removed, and as I afterwards learned thrown
into the little creek from which the water to supply the tank was
obtained. As it was getting late in the day I went over to the hotel to
make arrangements for getting supper for my men and crew. The proprietor
told me there was nothing doing, as he did not want to take chances on
getting his building burned down by the Knights of Labor. All of the
balance of the regular eating houses and boarding houses in the town
refused to accommodate us for the same reason. They had been notified by
the committee not to do so. They would be boycotted if they did, and it
had been intimated that even greater punishment might be meted out to
them in case the committee's orders were violated. Later a good old
German lady named Mrs. Stoeppleman, who had two sons who were loyal
employes of the company, sent for me and told me she was not afraid of
the Knights of Labor, and cared nothing about a boycott or what her
neighbors might say, and she would feed us if we desired her to do so.
It is needless to add that we accepted of her hospitality. After a good
supper, I learned where the missing parts of the pumping engine had been
thrown, and two of my men, Messrs. McCane and Moir, who were both good
machinists and engineers, were set to work to repair the engine. The
water in the creek, where the missing parts of the engine had been
thrown, was about four feet deep, and was partially covered with ice.
McCane and Moir entered the icy water, while I and others held torches,
and fished out the missing parts. The engine was repaired, and by
morning we had the supply tank nearly full of water.
Early the next morning, we fired up one of the dead engines, and
attaching it to the train of ten cars, sent it on to Sedalia in charge
of a crew and two guards. Leaving eleven men at Chamois in charge of Mr.
W. K. Moir, I made up a train of 15 loaded cars, and with the remainder
of my men started on our return trip to St. Louis. No trouble occurred
until our arrival at Pacific, where the scenes attending our arrival
there the day before were partially re-enacted. We got through Pacific
without any serious trouble, however, and arrived in St. Louis about
2:00 P. M.
The St. Louis strikers had not been idle while I was out on the road,
however. On pulling into the Chouteau Avenue yards the first thing I saw
was that the big turntable had been put out of commission. The strikers
had deliberately run an engine into the pit, not only blocking the
turntable, but badly damaging the engine.
The next morning (Wednesday) Mr. Kerrigan sent for me to call at his
office. On arriving I was told that the strikers had attacked the
Washington accommodation, containing three coaches loaded with
passengers bound for St. Louis, at Gray's Summit, a little station west
of Pacific, and had run the train onto a siding and "killed" the engine.
I at once repaired to the Chouteau Avenue yards, and taking an engine,
attached it to a coach, into which I placed ten picked men, all well
armed, and the run was made to Gray's Summit in fairly good time. The
strikers and sympathizers soon dispersed when commanded to do so by me.
One of my men, Jim McCane, who was an experienced engineer, disconnected
the disabled engine, taking off the side rods, and in a remarkably short
time we had coupled the disabled engine and the coaches on behind our
coach. We then ran our engine to a "Y" west of the little town, and
after turning it around brought the passengers safely to St. Louis,
where we arrived a little before dark. The rescue of this passenger
train was the entering wedge which broke the strike.
On arriving at the roundhouse that evening, a messenger was awaiting me
with a note from General Manager Kerrigan, asking me to call at his
office at Sixth and Locust streets to consult with the officers of the
company. On arriving at Mr. Kerrigan's office I found Mr. Newman,
freight traffic manager, and Mr. Werner, the general auditor, awaiting
me. These three gentlemen were handling the strike situation for the
company in the absence of Vice-President and General Manager Hoxie. They
had learned of the conditions at the Chouteau avenue shops, of the
running of the engine into the turntable pit, and also of the large
number of men the strikers had on guard, both outside and inside of the
fence which surrounded the shops. Mr. Kerrigan, recognizing the fact
that we could do but little without engines, and as all the engines,
save one or two, were safely locked within the round house, expressed
himself as wishing to again get possession of the roundhouse. In
discussing the best means of doing this the gentlemen thought it best to
call on the police department for enough men to drive the strikers away.
I told them that it was not necessary to do that, as I could get
possession of the shops at any time. "How can you do it, Tom?" asked Mr.
Werner. "It will not take as long to do the job as it will to tell you
about it," I replied, and further told them that we would be in
possession of the shops again by daylight the next morning, if they so
desired. They told me to go ahead and get possession of the shops in my
own way. At that time I knew where I could get my hands on between forty
and sixty of my men. I sent messengers to hunt up these men, instructing
them to report to me on the Handlan lot, southeast corner of Grand and
Laclede avenues, promptly at 2:30 the next morning. They were further
instructed to slip into the rendezvous quietly, not more than one or two
going in together at a time, and all were given a pass word by which
they would be able to identify each other. At the time fixed, forty-six
men had reported, all well armed. I formed them into a double line, and
after cautioning them to be careful about stumbling or coughing, or
making a noise of any kind, marched them down Grand avenue to the
railroad track, and then down to the west gate of the fence surrounding
the shops. On arriving there and finding the gate fastened on the
inside, four men were boosted over the high fence. These men soon had
the gate open and the balance marched in. Immediately on entering the
shopyard the men split ranks, half going to the right and the other half
to the left, Jim McCane heading one squad and I the other. The strikers
had placed pickets every few rods all along the inside of the fence, but
our entrance had been made so suddenly and noiselessly that these
pickets had no time to sound an alarm. They were quickly disarmed of
their clubs, or bludgeons, and taken along with us from one station to
the other, until every picket in the yard had been captured. They were
taken to the gate and boosted out. We then entered the shops, where we
found many strikers asleep on benches and work tables. These were thrown
out of the building before they hardly had time to get their eyes open.
A good sized crowd of watchers and beer-canners were on the outside of
the east gate of the fence. These men, too, were driven from the
right-of-way. By daylight we were again in complete possession of the
shops, as I had promised my superiors we would be, without a blow being
struck or any one hurt.
I then sent trusted men down into the city to the quarters where men out
of work usually congregate, with instructions to hire all the men they
could find and quietly get them into the shops in small groups. I did
not care what the previous occupations of these men had been, just so
they were able-bodied. It did not make any difference to me whether they
had ever seen the inside of the railroad shop before. All I wanted was
men--men who could make a noise. We soon had a sufficient number of
these men inside of the shops to serve my purpose. Engines were fired
up, fire was built in the blacksmith forges and the big engine in the
powerhouse was set in motion. In fact, to those on the outside of the
shop who could see the smoke coming out of the smoke stacks and hear the
noise, and to those who could get a peep through the gates, the shops
presented a scene of great activity. Men were pounding great molten
pieces of iron on the blacksmiths' anvils, while others were pounding
away on big pieces of boiler iron, but they were not blacksmiths or
boilermakers; they were simply playing a part assigned to them by the
master mechanic and myself. Other men represented machinists, while
others were painters, car repairers and helpers.
Of course, all these actors and guards had to be fed, so we established
a commissary and a kitchen and brought in a lot of cots for these men
and guards to sleep on, which were placed in the building. To those who
are not familiar with the handling of strikers, I will tell why we
employed all those unskilled men. It was for the purpose of making the
strikers believe that we were fast filling their places, which it did,
for in the next day or so many of the men who went out quietly made
application for reinstatement. In many instances these applications were
acted upon favorably and the men put to work, and the backbone of the
strike was thus broken.
As on all such occasions, many acts of violence were committed. When the
strikers learned that men were being slipped into the shops they were
very wroth. Now and then one of the strike breakers would stray away
from the shops. They were fortunate, indeed, if they did not fall into
the hands of the pickets, for if they did, and which was usually the
case, they were badly beaten. Of course, we always attempted to prevent
the men going out after they were once inside of the enclosure, knowing
what they would be up against, but we were not always successful in
keeping them inside. On the second day, after we had retaken the shops,
a coach painter named Haller, who had been employed at the shops for
several months, and who was at home at the bedside of a sick wife when
the strike was called, showed up at the shops and resumed work. At
quitting time that evening he picked up his dinner bucket and started
down the track to Jefferson avenue, as had been his custom. On arriving
at Jefferson avenue he was approached by a number of pickets, who
remonstrated with him for going to work. "I cannot afford to loaf now,
as my wife has been sick a long time," said Haller; "besides, I am
satisfied with the wages I am receiving and intend to keep on working,"
and started up Jefferson avenue towards his home, which was in the 2600
block on either Franklin or Easton avenues. The pickets began to assault
him with rocks and clubs, and he sought to escape them by running. At
every step, almost, the ranks of the mob were augmented. As Haller ran
past the strikers' headquarters, which were in Eutopia Hall, at Walnut
and Jefferson avenues, a crowd of several hundred joined in the chase.
The long run up the hill had winded Haller. Besides he had been weakened
by the blows which had been showered upon him. Seeing that he could not
make his escape on account of his weakened condition, he backed up
against a brick building at the northwest corner of the street named
and stopped. A big bully rushed up to him and struck him, whereupon
Haller jerked out a revolver and shot his assailant, who dropped dead in
his tracks. This stopped the mob from doing further violence to him. The
police from the mounted district rushed to the scene and placed Haller
under arrest. No attempt was made to arrest any of the mob. Later in the
evening he was removed to a cell in central station, from which the
company's officials, at my request, secured his release on bond. He was
later acquitted by a coroner's jury, and in a day or so thereafter was
again back at work. After that, for quite a while, I sent a guard home
with him each evening, but no attempt was made to molest him. This, I
believe, was the only fatality growing out of the strike in St. Louis.
Mr. Haller is now a prosperous business man in St. Louis, and is highly
respected by all who know him.
Thursday afternoon the big crane at the shops was rigged up for
business, and, under the guidance of skilled men in my employ, ran out
to the edge of the roundhouse pit, into which the strikers had dumped an
engine, as referred to before in this article. This engine so blocked
the turntable that not one of the company's engines in the roundhouse
could be taken out. The engine was lifted out of the pit, and in a short
time the turntable was in working order. That same evening, I decided to
straighten out things at Pacific. To do this I had made up my mind to
place the ring-leaders of the mob which had attacked the train there
earlier in the week under arrest. I knew it would take quite a force of
men to do this, so I instructed twenty of my men to assemble quietly in
the neighborhood of St. Malachy's church, at 29th and Clark avenues, at
ten o'clock that night. They were to come to the rendezvous in ones and
twos, and instructed to do nothing that would attract attention. I had
an engine and caboose in waiting at the shops, and when the men had all
assembled they were marched to the caboose, and between 11 and 12
o'clock we started to Pacific. On arriving at the first cut east of the
town the little train was stopped and left in the cut under guard of the
engineer and fireman, and two of my men. The engine carried no lights,
and no sound had announced our arrival near the town. In fact, we
approached it as quietly as possible. The men were divided into two
squads, one headed by Billy Bonnell and the other by myself. We then
marched into town and to the homes of the men wanted. They were aroused
from their slumber and placed under arrest. We had no trouble, except at
the home of a big blacksmith, who had been especially prominent in the
riot at the sand bin the day we ran the first train through the town
after the strike had been called. He was soon subdued, however, and
taken with the balance of the men arrested, to the caboose, which had
been left standing on the track near the edge of the town. Many of these
men were still suffering from the blows they had received at the hands
of the guards who were on the train they had attacked. Davis, the leader
of the mob, who was hit on the head with a coupling pin by Marshall F.
McDonald, for attempting to derail the caboose of the train attacked,
had his head still covered with bandages.
After all the men had been arrested, we boarded the train with our
prisoners and ran to Washington, where we loaded them into hacks and
wagons and took them to Union, the county seat of Franklin County, where
they were placed in jail. In due time they were tried before Judge Seay,
and vigorously prosecuted by Prosecuting Attorney Gallencamp, and all of
them convicted. Davis, the leader, was given three years in the
penitentiary, while the blacksmith and several others were let off with
lighter terms, and the balance of the men, who proved to be mere tools
of the leaders, at my suggestion, were given jail sentences. Davis,
after entering the penitentiary, contracted consumption, and after
serving a little over half his time, was pardoned so he might go home to
die. He was released from prison one Saturday, returning to Pacific at
once. The following Monday he died.
Two of the gentlemen connected with the trial of these strikers have
since made reputations for themselves. Judge Gallencamp, who prosecuted
the cases, is now, and has been for several years, Surveyor of the Port
of St. Louis, while Judge Seay, who presided, has received high honors
at the hands of the people of Oklahoma, his new home, he having served
as governor at one time. Mr. W. K. Moir, whom I left in charge of
Chamois, proved to be a valuable man for the company. He being a good
engineer and machinist he was retained there as general foreman for
several years, until the division was removed to Jefferson City. He was
then given an engine in the yards of the company at that point, but
later resigned and moved to St. Louis, where he continued to reside
until his death, which occurred a few years ago.
The St. Louis strikers made their headquarters in Eutopia Hall,
Jefferson avenue and Walnut street, and an ex-convict named Martin
O'Neal usually presided over the meetings. I lived, at that time, at
2729 Walnut street. My wife was very sick, being confined to her bed,
and many of these strikers in going to and from their meetings always
passed by the house, and never failed to jeer at the children, if they
happened to be in the yard, and otherwise conducted themselves in a rude
manner. One striker, a tough switchman named Duffy, went so far as to
enter the yard and ring the door bell a couple of times, when he knew I
was not at home, and when the door was opened by my little daughter, had
forced his way into the house. He would then let on as though he wanted
to see me, telling my daughter that he knew all about a conspiracy to
take my life, and his call was for the purpose of putting me on my
guard. His story and rudeness always frightened my family very badly,
they thinking that possibly there might be some truth in his story. I
knew Duffy and his reputation as a general bad man, and knew he had no
business with me. I also knew he was aware of my whereabouts during
business hours, and I decided to put a stop to his visits at my private
home at the first opportunity. As luck would have it, I was at the house
the next time he called, one night about ten o'clock. I had slipped home
to spend a few moments with my sick wife, and had been in the house only
a short time, when the door bell rang. My daughter saw him enter the
yard from the window, and called me. I answered the ring of the bell by
opening the door and grabbing Duffy by the collar and jerking him
inside. I at once went to work on him with both fists. He was either too
cowardly or his surprise was too great for him to make any resistance.
After I had given him a few good stiff jabs, he began to beg for his
life. "I am not going to kill you, you cur," I rejoined, "but I am going
to teach you better than to come to my home," and I lit into him again.
After punching him until I was tired, I let up. I then issued a few
orders for the cowering wretch's guidance in the future, and also sent a
message to his followers, couched in about the following language, "You
people can go up and down this street, of course, but don't any of you
let me catch you on this side of it. Another thing, I will 'get' the
next one of your cowardly curs who jeers at this house again while
passing. I don't want any of you to ever even look at my house. If you
do, and I find it out, there will be trouble." After making him promise
to deliver the message, I again grabbed him by the collar, and pulling
the door open, booted him into the street. I always gave Duffy credit
for delivering the message, for that gang always behaved themselves when
passing the house thereafter, and always kept to the other side of the
street.
St. Louis was not the only scene of rioting and mob violence during the
strike. At Sedalia, where the main engine building plant of the company
is located, and where about 2000 machinists and other shopmen were
employed, conditions were very bad. Sedalia was also the headquarters of
the operating department of the "Katy," one of the Gould properties, and
a division point for all Missouri Pacific lines at that time running
through Missouri. In fact, it was what might be called a railroad town.
It was also the main headquarters of the strikers. The Knights of Labor
were very strong, even most of the business men of the city belonging to
the order. The strikers had their own way for several days. Each attempt
on the part of Superintendent Sibley to move trains was the signal for
rioting. To illustrate the boldness of the strikers, I will relate one
incident. Adjutant General J. C. Jamison, of Governor Marmaduke's staff,
had been sent to Sedalia to investigate conditions there. He went to the
yards and with two police officers, boarded an engine, attached to a
train, which the officials were attempting to get out of the yards. The
engine was given steam and the train started. Before it had gone a
hundred yards, however, a mob climbed aboard the engine, stopped the
train, uncoupled the engine from the train, put on steam, and ran the
engine down the Katy track about two miles, and after letting all the
water out of the boiler, ran the engine back to the yards and into the
roundhouse. No attempt was made to harm the adjutant general and the
police officers by the mob. Immediately on the arrival of the captured
engine at the roundhouse, the leaders of the mob, who proved to be John
Perry and Fred Page, two of Martin Irons' most trusted lieutenants, were
placed under arrest by Chief of Police Barnett of Sedalia and a couple
of his officers. The arrest caused one of the worst riots ever witnessed
in the little city. The men were finally locked up, however, by the
plucky Chief of Police, but were soon released on bond. This riot caused
a change of sentiment on the part of the business men, which up to this
time had been with the strikers entirely, and within a few days enough
volunteer guards had been secured to handle the situation. Traffic was
then resumed on the roads. Many of the ringleaders were indicted by the
Grand Jury, but none of them were tried, they being allowed to leave the
county.
At Kansas City, Parsons, Denison, Ft. Worth, Palestine, Little Rock, and
many other places much rioting was indulged in by the strikers, and much
property was destroyed, and worse, several lives were sacrificed.
Martin Irons, after the strike, was completely deserted by the men whom
he had led, and became a wanderer and an outcast, a veritable human
derelict. His constitution had become so weakened by the excessive use
of liquor that he could not hold a job as a machinist, although he was a
good workman. He then tried lecturing, but in this he was not
successful. Later he opened a lunch counter at Kansas City. This
enterprise was also a failure. He finally wandered down into Arkansas,
and one morning was found dead in a hovel. Never was the biblical
admonition, "As ye sow, so shall ye reap," more plainly illustrated than
in the case of poor Martin Irons.