H. J. Richmond – WE NEVER FORGET

Quote Emma F Langdon, Miners Are My Brothers, EFL p244, 1904 —————

Hellraisers Journal – Monday October 12, 1903
Cripple Creek District, Colorado – The Military Bullpen at Camp Goldfield

Report of Emma F. Langdon of Victor, Colorado:

[The Military Bullpen]

Now I will invite the reader to take a trip to the military prison and see how fared the Record prisoners.

These prisoners were marched unceremoniously to the bull pen. Armed thugs forced them into a filthy and squalid little tent, absolutely barren of furniture or bedding, where they were told to stay under penalty of having their heads blown off if they appeared an inch outside of the entrance.

The night was bitterly cold and on that frigid mountain side, under the intimidating guard of a horde of armed assassins, the working force of the Victor Record passed a night of torture equal to anything ever devised by the Spanish inquisitors. The entire force will bear testimony that the treatment accorded them was so inhuman and revolting as to surpass the belief of American citizens.

The “bull” tent had just been vacated by a number of drunken soldier prisoners, who had vomited all over the interior. The stench was sickening, but there they were forced to lay, without even so much as a gunny sack to protect them from the cold. Shortly after sunrise they were told to come to “breakfast.” Emerging from the filthy kennel they were escorted to the mess table a short distance away. A dozen guards kept them covered with guns loaded with riot ammunition while two grimy negro cooks dished out a little slop on tin plates and told them to eat. There were no knives, forks or spoons at hand. “Use your fingers,” said the head negro when remonstrance was made.

Beneath the table were a number of wash boilers and buckets filled with the accumulated garbage of several days and the stench arising therefrom was nauseating enough to insult the gizzard of a buzzard. It is quite needless to state that they had no appetite.

They returned to the tent hungrier and more distressed than ever. The day was raw and cold and they were chilled to the marrow. Faint and sick Mr. Richmond approached the captain of the guard and implored him for God’s sake to obtain some blankets. His appeal was cut short with an oath from that dignitary.

A little later a murderous looking gatling gun was drawn up, trained on the prisoner’s tent, and they were subjected to the nerve rending ordeal of posing as targets. The excitement attending this outrageous intimidation completely unnerved some of them.

Attorney Tully Scott, formerly of Kansas, succeeded in getting them liberated through some legal procedure and after unwinding a few miles of military red tape the commanding general turned them over to Sheriff Robertson of Teller county, when for the first time they learned that they were defendants in a libel case.

It was a deliberate plot to suppress a paper for telling the truth about the uniformed hirelings who were guilty of the outrages above mentioned.

The excuse for the taking of the Record force was that in the issue of the day before, there was an article of about six lines which referred to two tools of the mine owners as ex-convicts. It was learned that in the case of Vannick it was true, but Scanlon, with all his faults, had not, as yet worn the stripes. However, there was a correction coming out the following morning. The whole truth of the matter was that the military was watching every movement of the Record for a chance to raid the office. The real reason of the military raiding the office at that hour, was to suppress the official organ of the Western Federation of Miners. The district had only the one paper that stood up for the cause, and of course the enemy did not have a very warm feeling of friendship for the Record. The reader will at once realize that even had the editor been guilty of criminal libel the operators or the mechanical force could not legally be held responsible. But when the military endeavored to suppress the Record they reckoned without their host. Again the writer will quote: “The best laid plans o’ mice,” etc. The writer would advise the warrior Chase, when he again undertakes to suppress the press, to not only arrest the force at work, but every living printer in the county—and it wouldn’t be a bad idea to carefully guard the cemeteries, for the press is a hard game to beat—even by a warrior of the ability of Chase, as he has doubtless discovered.

Continue reading “Hellraisers Journal: Emma F. Langdon Reports on Cripple Creek Strike: Military Despotism, the Bullpen at Camp Goldfield” →

Quote Emma F Langdon, Miners Are My Brothers, EFL p244, 1904 —————

Hellraisers Journal – Sunday October 11, 1903
Cripple Creek District, Colorado – Victor Daily Record Kidnapped

Report of Emma F. Langdon of Victor, Colorado:

The Victor Daily Record Kidnapped.

Tuesday night Sept. 29, at 11:05, the busiest hour on a morning paper, the Victor Daily Record, which had espoused the cause of the striking miners, was raided by the militia, and the entire force at work was “captured.” The linotypes were humming, ‘‘catching the elevator” on every line, the foreman was fuming and “rushing,” proofs, for “first side down” and first “forms” must go to “press” at 11:30. Suddenly the door of the composing room flew open and in stalked Tom McClelland with the air of a “conquering hero,” followed by a file of yaping yokels dressed in the garb of soldiers and armed to the teeth. “Halt!” yelled the fierce Tom. “Ground arms!” “Fix bayonets!” “guard the entrances!”

“What the h——!” says the foreman, “having a fit?”

The operators merely shifted quids, “brought down” a period and ‘‘sent in” the line.

“Private——— step forward!” roared “Thomas of the shining tin,” “identify the force!’’ A long, lank specimen of the genius homo, red headed, with a scraggly, three week’s growth of red fuzz that might have developed into red whiskers, had the soil from which they sprouted been fertile, shuffled from the ranks and in a hang-dog manner pointed his grimy finger at the foreman and the two linotype operators. This aforesaid specimen had been in the office the night before and had claimed to be a printer; and from his conversation he might have been at some time a janitor in a “print shop” or roller washer in a press room—but printer—oh, no. He was informed in plain, understandable English that if he had business to make it known, if not, conversation was a waste of time. He left and the “force’’ all said, “we’re spotted for the ‘bull pen’ sure.”

“You’re all prisoners of war!” bellowed Thomas, but the “mills” kept “turning over.” ‘Get up!” hissed the major of majestic mein.

“Who the —— are you?” calmly gurgled one of the operators.

“I’m Major Thomas E. McClelland, of the Colorado National guard!”

“Oh, my! does it hurt so very much?” In pitying accents from the operator, my husband [Charles G. Langdon].

“Sergeant seize that man!” gasped Thomas of the guard.

The “sergeant” pushed a wicked looking bayonet towards the operator’s neck and he had to “send in” a “short line.”

Mr. Kyner, the managing editor, then stepped into the composing room and asked what was wanted. McClelland stated that he had arrested the “force” and wanted him, too. ‘‘All right,’ said Mr. Kyner, “I guess you have me.”

“Me too.” said Mr. Sweet, the circulator.

That’s all,” said the “genius homo.”

“Well, it’s a clean sweep,” said Mr. Kyner, “May I telephone my wife?”

“You’ll have to hurry,” quoth pompous Mac.

“Who’ll get out the paper?” asked Richmond, the foreman.

“McClelland laughed and said, ‘“‘We’ll send printers down from the camp and get it out for you.”

“Oh no you won’t,” said Richmond, “It takes printers, and printers don’t bunch in your corral.”

With that the Record force was marched to the “bull pen” under an “honorary” guard of two companies of infantry, two troops of cavalry and, perhaps, the gatling gun, (late of Wyoming.)

At that time I was at home in bed and Mrs. Kyner came to my home and rapped at the door. I opened the door and she asked me if I had heard the latest. I replied that I evidently had not, and she informed me of the arrest of the Record force, and asked, “What shall we do?”

“Do!” said I, “get out the paper of course.” “Just the thing,” said plucky Mrs. Kyner. “I’ll notify Mr. Miller,” and away she flew in the darkness. We realized instantly that a strong effort had been made to suppress the liberty of the press, and determined forthwith that the entire military force of Colorado should not keep the Record from making its appearance as usual.

Continue reading “Hellraisers Journal: Emma F. Langdon Reports on Cripple Creek Strike: Force of Victor Daily Record Kidnapped by Military” →