A Philadelphia regiment which came here in the name of law and
order has been swift to shed blood. Not two hours in our city, and
before a hostile shot was fired at them, they have stained our
hill-sides with the blood of ten or twelve men and children. Most
of them were spectators, drawn by an unfortunate and innocent
curiosity to their deaths. The wailing of women and children, the
deep cursing of outraged men, and the outspoken indignation of an
entire community, swell the chorus of condemnation against the
officer or officers of the First regiment of Pennsylvania militia,
who assumed the fearful responsibility of that hasty command to
fire. We desire not to be unjust to the strangers. The strong
current of public feeling should not prevent us from upholding them
in their terrible deed, if the facts sustain them. Even now we will
say that their side of the story may, perhaps, somewhat modify
public opinion, when it is known. As appears elsewhere, the
_Leader_ tried to obtain their version of the affair officially,
but in vain. Those officers who were seen going along the line
striking up the rifles of their troops with their swords and
otherwise endeavored to stop the effusion of blood, deserve as
much credit as that officer who was seen waving his sword and
encouraging the men to keep on with the butchery deserves censure.
But making all possible allowance for the Philadelphians, it does
still appear that they acted rashly, importunately, deplorably. The
crowd hissed them, but that was no reason for shooting. They hooted
and jeered them, but all crowds do that, and true soldiers are not
disquieted by such demonstrations. Men on the crossing caught hold
of their bayonets, and half jocosely expostulated with the
soldiers. That was reason for clearing a passage with a quiet
forward movement with the bayonet, which would have been effective
without hurting anybody. It was still no reason for firing--the
hurling of a few stones from the hillside, which seems to have been
the provocation that caused the massacre--but neither was that for
men who came here to enforce order, it is true, but should have
made up to endure much before shedding the blood of honest
workingmen, who, even, if wrong were only misguided and had thus
far conducted themselves with wonderful calmness and respect for
order--neither was sufficient reason for beginning a fire of
musketry upon the people, and change, what was before but a
peaceful though earnest conflict between the railroad men and their
employers, into a scene of battle, murder, and sudden death.
The railroad officials do not seem to be responsible for the
massacre. They appear to have evoked a power that they could not
control, and so dazed and shocked at the consequences. Mr.
Pitcairn's expression, "God only knows what will come of it," well
shows this. Mr. Thaw, early in the day, expresses himself as
willing and anxious that anything, everything, should be yielded up
to the men rather than that blood should be shed. But it was too
late. The collision was then inevitable, and it came.
What the end will be cannot now be known. At this writing the air
is filled with rumors of fire and war. The troops of the State are
concentrating here from all sides to the support of the
Philadelphians, now cooped up, apparently terror-stricken, in the
fire-threatened railroad round-house, and surrounded by an
ever-increasing mass of armed citizens. It is possible that further
bloodshed may be averted. The very free vent given to the
excitement to-night, in arming and marching about with banners and
guns may explain it, and give time for sober second thought to
assert itself. The reasonable speeches at the Southside meeting,
show that the best spirits among our workingmen are laboring to
prevent riot and disorder. Time works for peace. But it is useless
to disguise that the situation is very grave and growing graver,
and that the men who were swift to shed blood will have the
heaviest responsibility to answer for.
[Leader, July 23.]