Vol. 76/No. 5      February 6, 2012

Below are three excerpted sections from The Great Labor Uprising of 1877 by Philip S. Foner, one of Pathfinder’s Books of the Month for January. The selection is on the successful strike on the Erie Railroad, one of a series of rail strikes that occurred after four years of economic depression. After a series of financial scandals, the Erie was put into receivership. The new management slashed wages. The workers elected a committee to voice their opposition to the company. The bosses fired them all, sparking a system-wide strike.

The center of the strike was Hornellsville, N.Y., where three of the railroad’s lines came together. The workers shut Hornellsville down tight. Federal troops were sent in, but the strikers fraternized with them, forestalling attacks. No trains ran. Erie management was forced to make concessions, and the workers voted to return to work, with valuable experience on evaluating the relationship of class forces and acting accordingly to advance the struggle, advancing their own class consciousness in the process. The Erie victory inspired other workers across the country to launch what became the Great Labor Uprising of 1877. Copyright © 1977 by Pathfinder Press. Reprinted by permission.
 

[T]he company was determined to run all trains, and on the morning of July 22, a section composed of an engine, mail car, baggage car, and two passenger coaches started out of the yards for Tiptop Mountain, the only way for westbound trains to get out of Hornellsville. Thirty soldiers were detailed to guard the train; five were stationed on the engine, two on the bumper, and the rest scattered throughout the cars. On the long flat stretch before the ascent of Tiptop Mountain—one of the steepest grades on the road—engineer Dave Cary threw open his throttle to build up speed…. Then suddenly, its wheels began to slip. The strikers’ wives had prepared buckets of soft soap, and the men had liberally slathered it all over the rails for a quarter of a mile up the hill.

As the train slipped backward, the strikers on the hillside cheered wildly and threw on more soap for good measure. The engineer, by making liberal use of the sand pipe, was able to conquer the grade, but the train could move only in spurts. As it slowed down from twenty to fifteen, to ten, to eight miles an hour, worried passengers began shouting. When it had almost come to a stop and was about to slide down again, the strikers rushed on board, shoved their way past the half-hearted militiamen, disabled the brakes, and forced all the passengers to get out….

[T]he Erie gave up its attempt to run a train out of Hornellsville that day.
 

Responding to the demand for sterner measures, Governor Robinson declared martial law in Hornellsville and called upon “all authorities, civil and military,” to keep the strikers from preventing those who wished to do so from working. “It is no longer a question of wages,” the governor’s declaration concluded, “but the supremacy of the law…. To the maintenance of that supremacy the whole power of the State will be evoked if necessary.”

As soon as the governor’s proclamation was issued, the Twenty-third Regiment was ordered to leave Brooklyn, New York, for Hornellsville. These soldiers, having no personal ties with the strikers, could be relied upon to enforce the proclamation. At the same time, General Brinker issued an order prohibiting anyone not working for the Erie from going onto the road’s property without military permission. In fact, anyone who even stated his intention of entering the yards without this permission could be arrested….

The train met little resistance until it reached Corning, about forty miles east of Hornellsville. From that point on, it had to fight its way. The strikers had torn up the tracks in front of the advancing train, and the soldiers spent much of their time repairing the damage. Five miles before Hornellsville, the spikes had been pulled and the plates joining the rails removed. As the engine passed over this point, the rails spread and the train settled to the ground. This caused a delay of about two hours. Finally, at six in the evening, the regiment arrived in Hornellsville.
 

The strikers’ committee visited the company’s office, and was told that the Erie was willing to sign an agreement immediately on the terms set forth that afternoon, but would not go beyond those concessions. The committee returned to report to the strikers; the workers accepted the proposals, and at a quarter after twelve in the morning of July 26 the strike was declared over. The “Great Strike on the Erie” was at an end….

The compromise agreement ending the strike at Hornellsville was extended to other Erie workers. It was the first of its kind on any of the nation’s major roads during the Great Strike….

Editorial comment on the Erie settlement stressed that it was a poor precedent for management to have compromised at all in such a confrontation. The reaction of the Elmira Daily Advertiser was typical.

The terms may be all right, and they may be wise. But it looks to us like a surrender. True, the trains are again put in motion, but not through the supremacy of the law asserting itself against the will of a mob. It is because the mob, for a consideration, has given its consent that business may be resumed.