AT THE AMERICAN RIVER BRIDGE.
TOWARD evening B Company received orders to be in readiness to relieve the company on guard at the bridge over the American river. This was hailed as glorious news both by those who had already been there and those who had lived in anticipation of this trip to that paradise of posts. Even to a stranger the eagerness of the men, as they rolled their blankets or packed their haversacks, would plainly indicate some pleasant duty about to be performed. Now, in the minds of many, a grave question arose, prompting those, at least, who had already served at the bridge to avoid all collisions with the captain, namely, “Who should remain behind, in charge of the street and tents?”
Deep was the thought on this vexing subject, when the astounding news spread through the street that Max Claussenius had volunteered to remain in charge. Wonderful self-sacrifice! Of all deeds the most heroic of the campaign!
At six o’clock the upper and lower track guards were relieved, our boys from the upper guard joining the company as it fell in in heavy marching order, preparatory to boarding the train for the bridge. Having received his orders, the Captain led the company to the train, on which we were quickly hurried off toward the bridge.
LIEUT. MCIVER, U. S. A.,MAJ. GEO. R. BURDICK,COL. W. P. SULLIVAN.
LIEUT. MCIVER, U. S. A.,MAJ. GEO. R. BURDICK,COL. W. P. SULLIVAN.
As the train sped down the line many and great were the efforts of the boys to “fix it with First Sergeant Ramm,” so that they might be posted at the most desirable end of the bridge. All seemed to want the same place, the farther end, which Dame Rumor had declared to be the better of the three posts. However, despite the most Trojan efforts, no “fixing” could be done, it having been decided by the powers that be to make no details until we had reached the bridge, and relieved the old guard. This having been done, the following details were made up and announced:
Officer of the day, Captain I. B. Cook.DETAIL FOR SOUTH SIDE.Officer of the guard, Lieutenant Filmer; Sergeant W. N. Kelly; Corporals B. E. Burdick and A. McCulloch.Privates of the guard, Baumgartner, Frech, Fetz, Heath, Heizman, Gehret, Overstreet, Perry, Radke, R., Radke, G., Sieberst, V., Williams, and Wise.DETAIL FOR CENTER GUARD.First Sergeant A. F. Ramm; Lance Corporal W. Unger.Privates Bannan, Gilkyson, Monahan, O’Brien, and Sindler.DETAIL FOR NORTH SIDE.Officer of the guard, Lieutenant Lundquist; Sergeants B. B. Sturdivant and W. H. Sieberst; Corporals Wilson and Burtis.Privates of the guard, Adams, Claussenius, Crowley, Flanagan, Gille, Hayes, Keane, McKaig, Powleson, Stealey, Shula, Tooker, Wear, Wilson, and Warren.
Officer of the day, Captain I. B. Cook.
DETAIL FOR SOUTH SIDE.
Officer of the guard, Lieutenant Filmer; Sergeant W. N. Kelly; Corporals B. E. Burdick and A. McCulloch.
Privates of the guard, Baumgartner, Frech, Fetz, Heath, Heizman, Gehret, Overstreet, Perry, Radke, R., Radke, G., Sieberst, V., Williams, and Wise.
DETAIL FOR CENTER GUARD.
First Sergeant A. F. Ramm; Lance Corporal W. Unger.
Privates Bannan, Gilkyson, Monahan, O’Brien, and Sindler.
DETAIL FOR NORTH SIDE.
Officer of the guard, Lieutenant Lundquist; Sergeants B. B. Sturdivant and W. H. Sieberst; Corporals Wilson and Burtis.
Privates of the guard, Adams, Claussenius, Crowley, Flanagan, Gille, Hayes, Keane, McKaig, Powleson, Stealey, Shula, Tooker, Wear, Wilson, and Warren.
Sergeant Clifford and Musician Rupp looked after the cuisine, intending to do the cooking for all three at the camp of the last detail.
The different details having been made, they were sent each to their respective posts, there to await the arrival of their supper, which was then in course of preparation. The process was slow, extremely slow, the trouble with the dishes still continuing. Finally, the cooks, who had in their hurry entirely lost sight of the center squad, declared enough to feed the guard at the other end had been cooked. Placing the rations for seventeen on a handcar, it was dispatched in all haste to its destination. But when it reached the waiting and watching seventeen it was reduced to rations for ten. The seven doughty warriors posted in the center of the bridge hadfound themselves “between the devil and the deep blue sea,” and, calling a hasty council, had decided to make a fight for life. Well knowing the advantage to be on the side of the party which strikes the first blow, they solemnly agreed to halt that handcar if it ever came by, demand their rations, and, if none were forthcoming, help themselves, and send the messengers on; on, it would seem, to sudden death, could speech of man kill, when the now extremely slim meal reached those hungry seventeen? Returning, the car came at a furious pace. It was easy to see that a fire-eating delegation had been sent down to inquire into the whys and wherefores. But the center squad cared not. They had dined, and dined sumptuously; and now let “the devil and the deep blue sea” fight it out between them. A compromise was finally made between these two by cooking more, and meantime declaring that “that center squad” had caused all the trouble by not consenting to be starved, as gentlemen should under such circumstances. However, to the center squad this did not seem to give full consolation to the belligerents, as they, the center squad, were most roundly abused each time a handcar passed.
In the mean time sentries had been posted in reliefs of five men each at the north end of the bridge, in reliefs of two in the center, and of four at the south end. The night, cold, a chilly wind blowing steadily down the river, and whistling through the timbers of the bridge, passed quietly at each post. On the north side the watches were extended to three hours, but on the south side and in the center the regulation two hours on and four off was observed. At about midnight the company commander made a tour of the guard on a hand-car, signaling with a lantern as he approached each sentry, whose challenges those on the car could not hear, and whose very presence those pumping seemed to ignore, several of the sentries having to spring onto the farthest projecting tie as the car dashed by, grazing their clothes as it passed.
The usual early morning mistakes were made. On the guard at the north side Private Joe Keane mistook the morning star, shining, large and bright, amongst the tops of the swaying trees, for a signal lantern and was proceeding to shoot the “signaler,” when the man on the next post assured him of the unfortunate star’s identity.
Much amusement was caused on the south side by Private Perry’s call, in the early morning, for the corporal of theguard, asking whether he should shoot a rabbit then in the road, to have, as he expressed it, “something good for breakfast.” This guard, indeed, seemed to be a guard of strong sporting propensities. Private Frech of the next relief was seen, a short while after, crawling along the road, almost on hands and knees. His observer stood breathless; surely a dynamiting striker had been discovered. But no; Frech, too, was thinking of that morning’s breakfast, and, unlike Perry, intended to “shoot first and challenge afterward.” However, his stalking proved a failure, and, returning to his more onerous duties, was content, on being relieved, with his breakfast of bacon, mush, and coffee.
As day broke, the heavy, sultry atmosphere gave promise of a day whose heat we, camped on the banks of a cool, quiet river, felt we need not fear. Few, if any, could resist the temptation of a plunge. Every spare moment was devoted to the river, swimming, wading, plunging, wrestling, ducking, and racing along the stretches of sandy beach, no schoolboys could have enjoyed their holiday more.
The heat in Sacramento must have been terrific. Handcar after handcar, pumped by perspiring humans, who gazed with enraptured eyes on the river as they drew near, came down the line in a long procession.
As far as food was concerned open warfare had now been declared between the three guards. Triangular hostilities, in which the small center squad, but for its extraordinary exertions, appeared sadly in danger of being worsted. However, they avoided further strife by gaining possession of their “raw materials,” and then, through Lance Corporal Unger, doing their own cooking. The squad on the south side did the same, Private Heizman acting as chef. This did not entirely settle the question, however. There was our noontide keg of beer; which guard should send to Sacramento for it? Strife had opened anew between the center squad and the guard on the south side. Handcars had come down in such numbers that had a train under escort come through, all could not be removed from the track in time to avoid a collision. Seeing the danger, First Sergeant Ramm ordered his sentries to halt all handcars and call for the corporal of the guard. Shortly after these orders were issued Private Monahan challenged a carload of men from the south guard. Not heeding his call, those in front fixed bayonets, and the others, increasing the speed of their car, rushed at the sentry, who jumpedfrom the track to the platform to avoid being spitted on the bayonets. This angered the center squad, who then refused to let any more from that guard pass without an order from the officer of the guard. Seeing challenges to be of no avail, the sentry would sit on a box between the tracks, with his back toward the oncoming car, which then invariably stopped before striking him. This, then, was the state of affairs between these two guards when the beer subject was broached. Each guard declared that they, and none other, should send to town for the keg, the more violent men from the south side declaring that, should they send, the center squad need expect but the dregs.
Thus the dispute went on till finally a car from the south guard was sent for the coveted prize.
This beer was ordered to be given to the men at the beginning of the campaign by Major Galwey, medical attendant and commander of the hospital corps of the regiment. He held that more sickness was caused on July 4th by drinking Sacramento water than by heat, and consequently, when camp was established, ordered the men to drink nothing but black coffee, and the beer issued to them at noon each day. To set the fears of our temperance friends at rest, we will explain that this was issued in a small five-gallon keg—enough, when carefully measured, to furnish each man with an ordinary glassful per day. Later a keg of barley water was kept standing in each camp, and, though not very palatable, was well patronized during the heat of the day.
Not having sent for the beer our center squad resolved to stop their rivals as they passed on toward the north guard at all costs. Shortly before the noon meal was over the sentry on guard called “Here comes the beer!” Grasping a can in one hand and a log of wood in the other, Monahan rushed up the track, threw the wood across the rails, and awaited developments. Rushing along without any apparent slackening of speed the car struck the log, rose in the air and came down again on the tracks with the wood jammed between the front and rear wheels, the car immovable until lifted from the track and the log removed. Having halted them Monahan had no trouble drawing the beer, paying no attention to the abuse heaped upon him. Having drawn more than the proper allowance, we are afraid, he helped them remove the log and sent them on their way warning them to treat the center squad with more courtesy in future.
So the day passed. Swimming, disputing, guarding, and sleeping in turns, we made the most of this our first company “picnic.” No such opportunity for the perfect enjoyment of camp life had before presented itself, nor did we expect such another. Our reluctance to leave them may be imagined when about dusk the usual combination flat-car and day coach train arrived, bearing our relieving company and ready to carry us back to our camp in town. Slowly and sadly we climbed on board, the engine whistled, and, casting longing eyes toward the quickly disappearing bridge, we were rushed on toward town.
Some time before the company left the bridge our cooks went to camp on a handcar with the praiseworthy object in view of having the company meal ready on its arrival. Despite the fact that a member of the company had been detailed, at his own request, to take charge of the company street while we were away, no preparation for the company’s arrival had been made. The street was unclean, the table and benches were thrown together in a heap, and not even a stick of wood chopped. What our worthy private could have been doing with himself for the last twenty-four hours was a mystery to our thoroughly disgusted cooks. We must be careful to mention, though, that one thing had been done. The rations had been drawn, and were now tossed in a heap in the quartermaster’s tent.
Despite the unsatisfactory appearance of things, however, our cooks managed to have a hot supper ready by the time their hungry comrades appeared at camp.
Monday, the 16th, was for us of B Company essentially a day of rest. No guard details were called for, some of our men having already served forty-eight consecutive hours.
An event of this day, however, served to open our eyes to the awful depths to which we had fallen; how, as members of society, we had deteriorated during our short campaign. At dinner on this day Doc Sieberst, who was acting as waiter, carrying round a pot of stew in one hand and a ladle in the other, noticed Frank Sindler narrowly scanning a very doubtful looking plate, before calling for his rations. Stepping over and looking at the plate, Doc carelessly remarked: “It’s only dirt.”
“Oh, is that all,” answered Sindler. “Give me some stew,” he resumed, as he held out the plate, and busily assaulted the meat and potatoes which Doc ladled out for him.
The evening of this day saw our turn for guard duty come round again. A guard of thirty privates, three corporals, and a sergeant under Lieutenant Filmer relieved that on duty at the upper yards. The ground to be covered by this guard extended from the crossing of Seventh, D, and the tracks, along the tracks to Sixth and E streets, and thence along the spur tracks on Sixth street, running in front of the Southern Pacific foundry, to H street, at the point where the latter street runs into the China slough or Sutter lake, in all a distance of about one-third of a mile. Ten sentries were posted at equal distances along this line, their orders being to allow no person without a written permit to cross the tracks towards the Southern Pacific buildings, but not to interfere with any person passing along the open highway on the opposite side of the tracks. The sentries whose beat brought them near the corner of any street also received orders to disburse any crowd gathering on the cross streets.
The night, both in camp and on guard, passed quietly. The men had by this time become veterans to a certain extent, and each night now saw them quietly retire to their tents, even before tattoo, all thought of skylarking and “horse play” apparently left behind at the old camp on the Capitol grounds.
The onerous guard duty they were now called upon to perform had perforce caused a change in their spirits since our new camp was established. Each man was called upon to do forty-eight consecutive hours of guard duty out of seventy-two. Thus for two days he would be constantly on duty, managing to snatch in all about four hours’ sleep each night, rolled up in his blanket with his rifle constantly by his side, not daring to remove even his leggings. The third day, from six o’clock one evening till six o’clock the next, very naturally became a day of laziness. Having had only eight hours’ sleep during the preceding forty-eight, and knowing that the succeeding forty-eight hours would be but a repetition, it is little wonder that the men in camp each night, only about one-fourth of the regiment, retired willingly to their tents at the first beat of the tattoo.
B Company received an accession this evening of three of its members who had reported at the armory on the night of the third too late to leave with the regiment, or who failed to receive their orders, namely, Privates George Bowne, A. B. Snell, and Fred Pariser. On Tuesday evening Sergeant Taylor and Privates Beseman, Casebolt, and Ungermanarrived. These were the last arrivals before Companies A and B left for Truckee.
One arrest was made by this guard. The event occurred in the “wee sma’ hours,” the principal actors being Frech, a featherweight, and one of Uncle Sam’s children, a giant marine. Frech, catching the marine trying to sneak across the line after a night’s carouse, facetiously ordered him to throw up his hands, and then bawled lustily for the “Corporal of the Guard, No. 6!” The corporal found Frech and his captive holding quite a heated argument as to the propriety of the rather Black Bart style in which the marine had been halted, the captive still pointing to the clouds, under the persuasive powers of the little German’s Springfield, though threatening dire vengeance, and Frech promising to “fix it” with the corporal if the marine “would be good.”
At about 6A. M.the strikers who had returned to work began to arrive, coming across posts 9 and 10, especially, in such numbers as to require the assistance of a corporal in examining the passes. The increase in the number of men who came across each morning seemed to indicate an approaching stampede in the ranks of the strikers. It could not come too soon to please us.
The trouble with the subsistence department still continued. Despite the most frantic efforts of our quartermaster sergeant, we could neither steal, borrow, nor persuade the commissary department to give us enough kitchen and table utensils with which to properly feed the men. Surely, it would seem, sufficient time had elapsed since company mess was talked of and inaugurated to secure dishes enough to supply even Emperor William’s army. But doubtless we, the great uninitiated, cannot appreciate the stupendous amount of work necessary to be done to supply such an immense army as we, a few hundred men, camped in the very heart of a large city, constituted. Probably it still continued to be a “holiday, and the stores closed,” as they told us on the Fourth, for which weighty reason we had taken in an extra hole or two in our belts, and consoled ourselves with the knowledge that if we were hungry, we at least knew the patriotic motives which caused us to be so. What! Ask a man to open his store on the Fourth of July, that greatest of all days in the history of our country! Never! Rather let our patriotic rank and file hunger (we may eat at an hotel) than desecrate that glorious day by common barter.
“And we praised the little GeneralAnd we spoke in better cheer.”
“And we praised the little GeneralAnd we spoke in better cheer.”
“And we praised the little GeneralAnd we spoke in better cheer.”
“And we praised the little General
And we spoke in better cheer.”
And so the trouble continued. On such days as this, when the company was divided, no separate rations were issued to the guard; of what use would it have been? The guard had no means of cooking it. But full rations for the company were issued at the camp. Though in other companies we have known this to have been cooked and eaten entirely by those in camp, no account being taken of their tired and hungry comrades on duty, in B Company, the best possible, though still very unsatisfactory, system was in use. Having received the rations the cooks prepared the meal, if possible, enough for all; if not, enough for the guard. This, at least, having been prepared, all the available tin plates, forks, knives, and cups were gathered, and, with the pots of food, were placed upon a handcar and pumped up the line to the place at which the guard was located. Here, those not on actual duty finished their share as quickly as possible, and then went out to relieve the sentries. These, too, having finished, the now empty utensils were returned to the handcar and brought back to camp. Here, of course, the men were by this time rampant, and another scurry would have to be made to appease their inner man, who seemed to find such loud expression of his woes.
The afternoon of this day, Tuesday, became so hot that the men on guard at the tracks felt constrained to organize and set in operation another shower-bath company; this they succeeded in doing, utilizing a shady and quiet spot amongst the lumber-piles in the yard, fortunately very close to a faucet, to which they attached a hose, purloined from, Heaven and the “taker” only know where.
At 6 o’clock Tuesday evening our guard was relieved, very tired, and glad to return to camp; though the dust did cover every thing, tents included, an inch thick, every incautious step raising a cloud which obscured even the sun.
Now the members of the relieved guard heard for the first time that Billy Tooker, that prince of hard workers, had that day received a furlough, and had already gone home. After his departure the work about camp languished, no man in the company being found who could take his place and do full justice to the position, as could the former incumbent. Billy returned to us, though not in time, we are sorry to say, to accompany us to Truckee.
Tuesday night gave our new arrivals their first experience of a sudden call for duty. Tattoo had sounded and all thecamp was quietly preparing to retire. Many had already wrapped themselves up in their blankets and gone to sleep, when suddenly several shots were fired by a sentry of the camp guard, who was posted just above the camp on the line of the tracks. Instantly the long roll played by the musicians of the guard echoed over the camp. Not waiting for orders, the men tumbled out of their tents, grasping their rifles in one hand and cartridge belts in the other, and formed in the company streets. Considerations of dress were put aside, each man thinking himself fully equipped for fighting if he had on his trousers and belt and his rifle in his hand.
On this, as on the former occasion, the cause of alarm proved but trivial. Some skulker amongst the fruit-cars had approached the line of camp sentries too closely, had been seen and promptly challenged. He escaped by darting round the end of a car and making off down the tracks. His escape, however, proved on investigation to have been very narrow. The bullet was found to have passed through the corner of the car, only half an inch from the open space above the trucks. The succeeding shots were fired by the sentries down the line, who had probably caught a fleeting glimpse of the now flying form as he dashed from one car to another. Others of the shots were doubtlessly fired by men whose fingers seemed to itch to pull the trigger whenever their rifle was loaded with ball cartridge.
No more skulkers or probable “angels of destruction” intent on using “dynamite with discretion” being found, the companies were dismissed, the men returning to their tents to seek the “arms of Morpheus” until awakened by the reveille next morning.
This recall from the land of dreams was sounded earlier next morning than usual. On the day before circulars had been issued by the management of the railroad company offering work to all who had not taken an aggressive part in the strike, and as a consequence many were expected to return to work, while serious trouble was looked for from the malcontents.
The principal entrance to the shops and yards is from the southeast, at about Sixth and H streets, to which point the first battalion of the First Regiment had been ordered to proceed and prevent any violence while the men were returning to work.
While we all knew what duty we were about to perform, the usual “joshing” went on in the ranks at the expense of the timid ones. Some joker professed to have heard that the strikers were going to make an effort, at last, to try their strength with us, and decide the question of supremacy for good. This form of joke soon wore out, and we turned our attention once more to dynamite, that most fruitful theme. We pretended to have heard that our company alone was about to be ordered to Reno, where we had heard the strikers were using dynamite “with and without” discretion—in fact, regulating the amount applied to each individual soldier in the most careless manner. We decided in the course of our debate on dynamite and its uses, to which those for whose benefit the long harangues were given listened with bulging eyes and chattering teeth, speaking only to ask questions, that death being the object, dismemberment, thus far an incident, was really unnecessary; a judicious use of that most costly explosive would fully express their displeasure at our principles and accomplish the desired result physically, without unnecessarily mangling our persons, and leave at least a small chance of collecting a respectable portion of our anatomy to which to give Christian burial.
Our rather gruesome fun was cut short, however, by the order to march. We proceeded along the tracks to the point at Sixth and H streets at which trouble was most likely to occur. None, however, did occur, and after having made a sufficient display of our strength to those who gave us a glance in passing, we were quietly returned to our camp and to our waiting breakfast, a far more important subject of discussion than strikes, or even dynamite.
During the day a rumor gradually spread that A and B were to be sent to Truckee, taking ten days’ rations. Here, indeed, was a prospect of change. How we canvassed the question, and listened to each new rumor as it was brought in from goodness only knows where!
Three B men left for home on furlough during the afternoon. They were Private Max Claussenius, who had received his furlough some days before, Dr. Tom McCulloch, of the hospital corps, and Private Warren, who had received a telegram from his employers ordering his immediate return.
We passed the afternoon in a fever of expectancy, hoping against hope that the rumor would prove true. How anxiously we watched headquarters, where there did seem to bean unwonted stir. Soon our suspense was relieved; we received the order to strike camp and have our outfits packed, ready to board a train for Truckee at six that evening. We received the order with cheers, and set to work with a will, rolling blankets, packing knapsacks, lowering tents, and carrying our baggage and rations to the track. It is safe to say that A and B were most heartily envied by the members of the less fortunate companies, and many were the hopes expressed by the members of other companies that theirs, too, might be sent. But no such good fortune was in store for them; A and B alone had been ordered to prepare, and there was little chance of a change. Never did National Guardsmen work more willingly or respond more promptly to the order, “Fall in!” as when, under the command of Major Burdick, our little battalion was formed in front of regimental headquarters.
Here Colonel Sullivan spoke to us feelingly, wishing us godspeed and exhorting us to do our full duty as patriotic soldiers and citizens under every trying circumstance which the future might have in store for us.
Giving three rousing cheers for our colonel, we were marched to the tracks in the rear of our camp, there to await the arrival of the train which was to bear us some two hundred and fifty miles away over the high Sierras to the scene of our future operations.
Shortly after six the train arrived, and, with a rush, we boarded our sleepers, threw down our knapsacks, and turned for a last look and wave of the hand at the camp and comrades we were leaving, for none could tell how long.
As here in Sacramento, so in the other parts of the state and in Chicago the great strike was on the decline. Since the train wreck and murder of the eleventh the chance of success had vanished, and public sympathy, to a great extent, had turned from the strikers. Worden, since sentenced to hang, was arrested for this crime on the fourteenth, and Harry Knox, the leader of the A. R. U. in California, was arrested on the day following as an accomplice.
Through the middle and southern part of the state, San Jose, Stockton, Fresno, Los Angeles, and San Diego, business remained at a standstill. The portion of the First Infantry, U. S. A., ordered to Los Angeles on July 2d still had charge of the depot and saw that no disturbances occurred. Affairs had quieted so in San Jose, that Company D of the Fifth Infantry, N. G. C, Captain Elliott, was recalled and ordered toreport to Colonel Fairbanks at Alameda. The work of the National Guard under General Muller had been thoroughly done from the start, in the San Joaquin valley, and now their work of guarding trains and bridges went quietly on.
In Sacramento and Oakland the deadlock was now thoroughly broken. On the fourteenth the first train in two weeks arrived in Sacramento from Oakland by way of Benicia and Davisville. Four trains, including an overland, left Sacramento, the overland being the first train to pull out with a Pullman car attached.
On the fifteenth and seventeenth, detachments from A and B of the Sixth Infantry, N. G. C, were sent to Dunsmuir from Sacramento under Colonel Nunan. Here they remained until the twenty-fifth guarding trains and bridges when they were relieved by Companies A and F of the Second.
In Chicago, President Debs of the A. R. U. now seemed to despair. Arrested for conspiracy and thrown into jail, his followers from one end of the land to the other seemed to desert him. In vain did he send out telegrams beseeching them to stand firm. Vain were his announcements that business in Chicago was paralyzed. He realized the strike was lost, and knew the loss could be ascribed to no other cause than the strikers’ violence.
Throughout California the strike was admittedly lost. On the twenty-third General Dimond issued orders for the Fifth Infantry at Oakland to withdraw from camp, for Sheehan’s command to be dismissed, and at San Jose for the men to return home. At a conference held in the governor’s office, it was decided to withdraw the different regiments of the National Guard as soon as practicable. The San Francisco regiments, the First and Third, would be soon ordered home, and their work taken up by Colonel Park Henshaw and the Eighth Infantry.
On the same day on which this conference was held eight hundred and twenty men returned to work in the railroad shops, and one thousand applications for work were received. Still with the tenacity of despair the different leaders were sending “success” and “stand fast” telegrams to all parts of the country.
Arrests of leaders on charges of obstructing the mails, conspiracy, and insurrection now became common. Marshal Baldwin was busily arresting all the active spirits of the strike,and the trial of Worden, Hatch, Knox, and others for murder was progressing at Woodland.
Two different attempts at train wreck, now that the strike was lost, undoubtedly made for revenge, were frustrated, the second only after a lively exchange of shots between a detachment of regulars and the wreckers.
So toward the end of July the strike slowly resolved itself into a legal fight in the courts of the country. Every leader of prominence was arrested, and the minds of all were fully occupied in their various attempts to escape their threatened punishment.
This, then, a thousand criminal suits throughout the land, was the end of the greatest railway strike in the history of our country. A strange end indeed.
A NATIVE PATRIOT.
A NATIVE PATRIOT.