GIVEN OVER TO PILLAGE.
The Great Conflagration—Demoniac Satisfaction—The Reign of the
Commune—Besieged Soldiers—Abandoned Artillery—The Miserable
Retreat—Pittsburgh Given Over to the Mob—Scenes of Pillage—Citizens
at last Aroused—A Vigilance Committee—Restoring Order.
It was half-past one o’clock Sunday morning, July 22d, when the
fire-bells of the city of Pittsburgh rang out the awful announcement
that the devouring flames had commenced to rage in the vicinity of the
railroad depot and yards. The signal was fully comprehended. The mob was
proceeding to execute the threats which had been made. All through that
anxious night the inhabitants had awaited tidings of the progress of
events. It was a time when sleep was banished by alarms and cares. The
significance of the number tolled by the bells was well understood. Soon
the streets were thronged by a mighty tide of people, rushing in excited
haste toward Twenty-eighth street.
The mob had fired the arrested trains and some of the buildings that
belonged to the Railroad Company. The fire engines were speedily in the
vicinity of the scene of disaster; but they were not permitted to make
any effort to save the millions of dollars worth of property, by
arresting the progress of the flames. The fiendish spirit of the Commune
had taken possession of an incredibly large proportion of the people of
Pittsburgh. This was exhibited by the fearful yell of satisfaction which
rose from every part of the city as the alarm bells pealed forth their
dreadful warning. Never before in the history of the United States had
scenes such as those now witnessed arrested the attention of the people.
A species of madness seemed to have seized the citizens.
Men seized torches, and rushed wildly about, applying them to the
property of the Railroad Company. In this way train after train was
given up to the devouring flames. The infuriated rioters, having been
baffled thus far in their efforts against the militia besieged in the
roundhouse, now expressed a determination to burn them out. The long
lines of freight cars which occupied the sidings for miles, freighted
with valuable products, and manufactured goods, it seemed were destined
to be given over to destruction. All night the great army of rioters had
been engaged in a fruitless effort to storm the roundhouse, in which the
soldiers of the State were besieged. The two pieces of artillery of
Hutchinson’s Battery, which the rioters captured early in the evening,
had been loaded with iron bolts and pins, and directed against the
quarters of the militia. A breach had been made in the walls, the mob
rushed forward, but were met by a murderous fire of musketry which
caused the ill-organized mass to recoil in wild dismay. But now they had
resolved upon a more terrible mode of attack. There were on the tracks
whole trains of cars freighted with petroleum, and others loaded with
coke and coal. These the rioters determined to use for the purpose of
firing the roundhouse.
Having taken possession of a car freighted with coke, on the track of
the Alleghany Valley Railroad, they run it onto the track of the
Pennsylvania Railway Company. Taking some barrels of oil from a car on
that road, they broke in the head and poured the contents over the coke
in the car which they had captured on the other road. This they set on
fire; it was speedily a blazing furnace. A company of the rioters now
pushed it along the track until it was against the roundhouse. That
structure was quickly ignited, and the flames spread slowly through the
building. The situation of the militia garrison, which had sustained a
siege through the weary hours of the night, was rendered extremely
critical. They had now to abandon their position of shelter, and prepare
to cut their way through the mass of madmen clamoring for their blood.
They had yet some pieces of artillery in the roundhouse, and the two
Gatling guns which they had brought from Harrisburg. The heavy brass
pieces were spiked, and the little army of perhaps eight hundred
militia-men hurriedly withdrawing their outposts, and concentrating all
their force, was ready to march out on their perilous attempt to save
themselves from annihilation by a furious mob of many thousands.
Circumstances favored them. For some unexplained reason that part of the
mob which had been besieging the soldiers in the roundhouse, retired
from that vicinity. Taking advantage of this opportunity, the garrison
marched out and had proceeded some distance in their retreat before
their departure was discovered. It was now about 6:30 o’clock in the
morning. The dismal night was past. The Philadelphians had already begun
to congratulate themselves at their fortunate escape. But their troubles
were not ended. The mob soon discovered their retreat. Then commenced a
most remarkable pursuit. The rioters swarmed after the retreating
militia in huge masses. They went to the front, they hung on the flanks,
and followed in the rear of the fleeing militia-men, attacking them from
every convenient covert, and openly at every street crossing. It was on
this retreat, or rather rout, that the Philadelphians suffered most
severely. The force which left the roundhouse consisted of two brigades
with two Gatling guns. They marched out and along Penn avenue. As they
marched they were fired upon from corners and alleyways and windows and
house-tops. At Fourteenth street an unusually vigorous attack was made
from a house. The Gatling guns were charged and fired with destructive
effect. The retreating column continued its flight. They sought shelter
in the United States arsenal, but Major Buffington, who commanded the
small force of ten regular United States soldiers, declined to permit
them to enter, as he feared the whole mob would attack when he had no
means of defense. He however permitted them to leave their wounded to be
attended to, and the militia continued their retreat across the
Alleghany river to the village of Sharpsburg, where they halted and
received food from the villagers. The Philadelphians marched on to
Claremont, about twelve miles from the scene of disaster, arriving there
about five o’clock in the afternoon, wearied and foot-sore. Thus ended
their memorable campaign against the rioters of Pittsburgh.
Take any account given of the conduct of these citizen-soldiers, examine
it closely, and it becomes apparent that they were badly treated by the
Pittsburghers. Even granting that they did fire before they were
actually assaulted, it is evident they did not fire until after they
were in some danger of being overpowered by the mere force of numbers.
Called out by the State authority, in the performance of duty, they went
to Pittsburgh to protect public and private property. Justice requires
the statement that they were received by those they came to serve and
protect, in a manner which showed that they were regarded more in the
light of a horde of invading vandals than as friends and protectors.
Meanwhile the work of destruction, which had been going on since one
o’clock in the morning, was still proceeding. The soldiers had been
vanquished. They had been driven through Lawrenceville, out to
Sharpsburg, six miles up the Alleghany and outside the city limits, as
the rioters had sworn to drive them out, so they accomplished their
oaths. Eight soldiers were killed and several others wounded during
their retreat, the infuriated mob would allow no one to touch the
falling bodies save some Catholic priests from a parish church in the
neighborhood. Even the vengeance of a merciless mob might well be
satiated by the events of that doleful Sunday morning in Pittsburgh. But
there is no means of placating madmen. The rioters were such now. There
was no protection for the lives or the property of the citizens, save
such as the lawbreakers might accord. And strange to say, while engaged
in driving out the ministers of the law, and laying waste the property
of a great corporation, these men were foremost in efforts to preserve
the property of individuals. A singular fact, but a truth nevertheless,
that amid all the madness of that exciting time there was no disposition
manifested to do violence to the person or the property of
individuals—except in appropriating weapons of offense and defense held
by private citizens. They said they were determined to destroy the
railroad property, but would do no injury to that belonging to private
citizens. They kept their word, too, and when a lumber pile belonging to
a private citizen caught fire, the rioters themselves turned in and
helped to extinguish the flames and remove the lumber to a safe place.
But there was no compunction exhibited so far as railroad property was
concerned. The scene was the most terrible ever witnessed, except in the
carnage of war.
The fire raged with unabated fury, and the flames kept creeping steadily
toward the depot. At six o’clock the large machine shops by the tracks
between Twenty-sixth and Twenty-seventh streets caught fire, and burning
cars were switched on to the Alleghany Valley Railroad and sent down
that track in Liberty street, setting fire to many of the houses.
Superintendent Pitcairn’s and other offices of the Company, went next.
All along, the tracks were long lines of fire, consuming uncounted
values in property. And still the conflagration extended; cars, houses,
shops, all were destined to destruction.
The Union Line office at Twenty-second street, was wrapped in flames
early in the morning. The walls fell with a tremendous crash about eight
o’clock. Meanwhile the flames from the two roundhouses, machine shops
and cars, became magnificent and appalling. One hundred and twenty-five
locomotives were burned, valued at three millions of dollars, and the
loss on the buildings increases that loss to four millions.
At this time the scene was appalling in magnificence. A vast field of
fire, crackled and roared with terrible distinctness. To travesty the
language of Parton, men who witnessed it felt as if they stood upon the
brink of hell, with the lid off.
There were fifty miles of hot rails, ten tracks side by side, with as
many miles of ties turned into glowing coals, and tons on tons of iron
car skeletons and wheels almost at a white heat. Hundreds of coal and
coke cars at full blast; two hotels, an elevator, and many dwellings
were burning furiously, and hundreds of smaller buildings along the line
were all in a blaze, with the intermittent flashes of lurid light from
the debris of the roundhouse and machine shops.
The tracks of the Pennsylvania Railroad descend on a heavy grade for a
distance of about three hundred yards into the Union Depot at
Pittsburgh. The fire which had been raging east of the crest of this
grade for many hours, moved slowly westward, and had approached within a
few hundred yards of the Union Depot at noon on Sunday. At one o’clock a
number of cars were in flames at the summit of the grade spoken of. The
rioters now determined to most completely execute the purposes they had
sworn to consummate. It had been hoped by citizens that the Union Depot
and Keystone Hotel, and other valuable buildings around them would
escape the general destruction. The Union Depot was a large four story
building. It had a frontage on Liberty street of about seventy feet, and
extended back about two hundred feet. The lower floor was used as
waiting rooms, ticket offices, and the Company’s offices. The upper
floor was occupied by the Keystone Hotel Company, and was one of the
finest houses in the city. The whole building was of modern style of
architecture, and was considered one of the best arranged depots in the
country, and was finished about seven years since. In the rear of the
depot, and extending back five hundred feet, were lines of neat pine
sheds, covering different tracks to protect passengers from the weather.
This splendid structure was doomed to become food for the flames along
with the other valuable properties involved in the vortex of devastating
fires. About half-past one o’clock the rioters began to send flaming
cars, thundering down the grade toward the depot. Most of them were
turned into sidings so that they did not enter the depot, but soon the
passenger cars standing near the despatcher’s office at the outer end of
the depot caught fire, and by the rioters brakes were loosed and the
cars by their own momentum, thundered into the depot, communicating the
flames to the pine sheds alluded to above. The whole place was quickly
enveloped in a roaring, seething mass of fire.
The freight depot of the Pittsburgh and St. Louis Railroad was a large
shed, built fronting on Grant street, and extending from Washington
street to Seventh avenue. The Company’s general offices were in a four
story brick building fronting on Seventh avenue. These were totally
destroyed, as was also the depot of the Adams Express Company, located
on Grant street. The books and valuable papers had been removed from the
Union Depot offices, as well as from the outer buildings, before the
fire reached them. The Fire Department of the city continued on duty
from the time of the first alarm, but were not allowed to throw any
water on or make any effort to save the property of the Railroad
Company. They consequently directed their efforts to saving the private
property on the north side of Liberty street. In this they were mainly
successful, though six dwellings and a sash factory located near the
roundhouses were destroyed early in the day.
When the Union Depot was fired, followed by the Pan Handle offices, a
panic seized the citizens, who had up to this time calmly folded their
arms and looked on. It was feared that the conflagration would sweep the
entire portion of the city south of the Pan Handle Railroad tracks, as
many of the buildings were small frames as dry as tinder. At this
juncture the Fire Department of Alleghany, which had been held in
readiness in case of an outbreak on that side of the river, was summoned
to assist in staying the progress of the flames.
At this time the excitement in every part of the city knew no bounds. In
Liberty street, about twelve buildings were on fire, and in the
neighborhood of Twenty-eighth street the flames were spreading toward
the Alleghany rapidly. Hundreds of families in the section of the city
between the railroad tracks and the Alleghany, three squares, and the
Eleventh street Union Depot and Thirty-second street, spent the
afternoon in moving their most valuable effects out of the city.
During the burning of the depot more than a dozen terrific explosions
occurred, but whether from powder secreted there by the mob, or from the
contents of the cars, or the ammunition of soldiers, is not known.
About four o’clock the Rush House, opposite the depot, on Liberty
street, caught fire. The Fire Department worked all the afternoon to
keep the fire from communicating to the Rush House block, as it was
directly contiguous to the whole lower part of the city, while the depot
was more isolated in position. Three thousand five hundred cars, all
told, were destroyed, the value of which, with their contents, is yet
unknown.
About noon, Sunday, a mass meeting of citizens was called, and a
committee of five persons consisting of Bishop Tuigg, James D. Bennett,
the Rev. Dr. Scoville, James P. Barr, and Dr. Donnelly, were appointed
in accordance with the following resolutions:
_Resolved_, That a committee be appointed to confer with the State,
County and City authorities, and also the employes, workingmen, and the
Pennsylvania Railroad officials, to secure the protection of property
from wanton destruction, and an arrangement of the difficulties between
the Railroad Company and the striking employes.
_Resolved_, That in making this effort we pledge our faith to the
workingmen that we have no purpose to facilitate the introduction of an
armed force, but look solely to the protection of the rights and
interests of all by amicable means.
This committee entered upon the duty imposed upon them, but without any
marked success. Bishop Tuigg attempted to address the mob of rioters,
but they paid little regard to his words, and demanded that he produce
“Tom. Scott,” which of course the Bishop could not comply with. Some of
the other members of the committee fared even worse, having received
from the rioters they attempted to conciliate peremptory orders to
depart from them.
It was now the middle of the afternoon. The fire was still raging. A
large elevator had taken fire about half-past four o’clock in the
afternoon, and was a terribly grand spectacle, as a tower of flame,
reaching toward the sky. And still the great multitude of spectators
swayed to and fro, powerless to resist the forces which kindled the
flames, and helpless to stay the progress of the destroying element. At
this time, from the crest of the hill behind the depot, a continuous
line of fire, flame, mouldering ruins and smoke extended along the
tracks a distance of three miles. The mob was still triumphant, and
would not allow a drop of water to be thrown upon the Company’s
property. The scenes were terrific. Many of the stores burned near the
depot contained whiskey, from which barrels were taken, and from which
gallons were distributed. The Atlantic and Pacific telegraph wires along
the track were all cut. The Adams Express Company moved everything from
their depot store-house to offices on Fifth street. They lost heavily
during the morning. There was no wind in the early part of the day, but
during the afternoon a southwest breeze started up, which freshened to a
steady wind, and a pall of smoke overhung the lower part of the city
east of Smithfield street, and reaching to the Monongahela. At five
o’clock buildings on the side of the hill east, and on the opposite side
of the tracks from the elevator caught fire, and by 5:50 o’clock the
fire had extended a block and a half up Washington street, from which
street the fire spread both ways on Webester street. This is a district
on the hill covered with low tenement houses, which were closely packed
with workingmen and their families.
The most striking feature, perhaps, of the day’s developments, was the
complete apathy with which the tens of thousands that thronged the city,
looked upon the riots, the bloodshed, and the burning of millions of
property. They seemed to take the same kind of interest in these
tremendous events as they would take in a sensational drama. As evening
approached they wended their way peacefully home, remarking carelessly
that it was all very terrible, and that the Pennsylvania Railroad had
almost bankrupted the city and had only got what it deserved.
The scenes of pillage witnessed during that memorable Sunday, July 22nd,
1877, in the city of Pittsburgh, were such as were never before
witnessed in this country; not even during the war between the sections.
An eye witness thus describes the reign of the Commune:
“While hundreds were engaged in firing the cars and making certain of
the destruction of the valuable buildings at the outer depot, thousands
of men, women and children engaged in pillaging the cars. Men armed with
heavy sledges would break open the cars, and then the contents would be
thrown out and carried off by those bent on profiting by the reign of
terror existing. The street was almost completely blockaded by persons
laboring to carry off the plunder they had gathered together. In
hundreds of instances wagons were pressed into service to enable thieves
to get away with their goods. Mayor McCarthy, early in the day,
endeavored to stop the pillage, but the handful of men at his command
were unable to control the crowd, who were desperate in their anxiety to
secure the goods. The pillage was checked, but the mob fired the cars,
and then proceeded with the work of destruction. It is impossible to
form any idea of the amount of goods stolen, but hundreds of thousands
will not cover the loss. Some of the scenes, notwithstanding the terror
which seemed to paralyze peaceable and orderly citizens, were ludicrous
in the highest degree, and no one seemed to enjoy them with greater zest
than those outraged in the wholesale plunder. Here a brawny woman could
be seen hurrying away with pairs of white kid slippers under her arms;
another, carrying an infant, would be rolling a barrel of flour along
the sidewalk, using her feet as the propelling power; here a man pushing
a wheelbarrow loaded with white lead. Boys hurried through the crowd
with large-sized family Bibles as their share of the plunder, while
scores of females utilized aprons and dresses to carry flour, eggs, dry
goods, etc. Bundles of umbrellas, fancy parasols, hams, bacon, leaf
lard, calico, blankets, laces, and flour were mixed together in the arms
of robust men, or carried on hastily constructed hand barrows.”
The militia having fled the city, and there being no United States
regulars at hand, the citizens of Pittsburgh were at the mercy of a mob,
without the least possibility of resisting its demands. Such was the
situation late Sunday evening, when an adjourned meeting of the citizens
was held and a vigilance committee was raised for the purpose of
preventing a further waste of property. The committee was rapidly
recruited and its members were first supplied with base ball bats, but
these were afterwards exchanged for guns. They were designated by white
ribbons on their arms. As soon as the force was organized they marched
to Seventh avenue, where hundreds of spectators who had been waiting for
some one to lead, joined with them in preventing further incendiarism.
The reign of the mob was over, although threats were made that the
buildings belonging to the Pittsburgh, Ft. Wayne and Chicago Railroad,
and Cleveland and Pittsburgh road, on Penn street, and the Duquesne
Freight Depot on Liberty street would be fired. A large number of the
vigilance committee guarded these depots through the night and they were
not destroyed.
The reign of the mob came to an end that night. Afterward, General
Hancock and Governor Hartranft came to Pittsburgh, with all “the pomp
and circumstance of glorious war.” But they found no hostile foe to
conquer. General Hancock’s soldiers did indeed arrest some sixty or
seventy of the communistic incendiaries of Pittsburgh, and they were
handed over to Governor Hartranft, who in turn directed the Attorney
General of Pennsylvania to proceed against them in the courts. But the
riots were virtually at an end. The citizens who were in sympathy with
the strikers, had been alienated from them by the deeds of the
communistic mob, and the revulsion was so marked, and so dangerous in
its symptoms, that the law breakers naturally felt alarmed. The last
real fight during the further continuance of the strike was between a
party of seventy-five members of the citizens vigilance committee, armed
with base ball bats, and a gang of rowdies on Liberty street, late
Sunday evening. At first repulsed, the citizens returned to the charge
and were victorious. The next day the rioters formally surrendered their
arms to a committee of citizens, and the brief, but terrible war in
Pittsburgh was at an end.