A. I think the majority were outsiders.

Q. Were they citizens of the city of Pittsburgh, or strangers?

A. I don't know. I suppose they were citizens from the East End—from the east of the city. There were thieves, and robbers, and rogues, and tramps there from the whole country.

Q. Were they citizens of Pittsburgh, or were they strangers?

A. I think the majority of them were outside of the railroad employés. Whether they were glass-blowers, or puddlers, or citizens of any other occupation, I could not tell. The Pittsburgh troops were on good terms with the mob. Some were giving them muskets, and marching up and down with the mob, and eating hard-tack with them, and there was a good feeling, generally, between them. The report came that the troops were coming from Philadelphia, and that there would quite likely be trouble with them, because they were strangers here, and would not know the position of things here, but would obey orders. From that, I inferred that the Pittsburgh soldiers had not exactly obeyed orders. I only inferred that. This was the kind of tone or feeling around there. When the Philadelphia troops came marching up through the yard, my engine was out. I think that General Pearson was there at the same time that the Philadelphia troops came up from Twenty-eighth street. I think that General Pearson was, and I am positive about Mr. Cassatt. He said to me: Fred., are you willing to go out? I said: Certainly. I have never refused to go out. Certainly, on condition that the mob is dispersed. I would not like to run through it. I don't want to hurt anybody. He said: We don't want to send anybody out, until the mob is dispersed. I thought that if there was any determination displayed on the part of the troops, the mob would go away. Shortly after that, I was at the upper end of the lower round-house, half way between Twenty-sixth and Twenty-eighth streets. After the troops got up there, somebody made a speech—some one of the officers, or somebody—made a little speech, warning the people to go away, and disperse. I couldn't hear exactly what was said. Then I saw some of the soldiers come down shortly after that, and one of them, particularly, had the whole side of his face knocked off by a brick. They were the Philadelphia troops. Some of the others came down sick. I don't know whether they were sunstruck, or what kind of struck, but they were weak about the knees, some of them. Then, by and by, I heard a little bit of musketry rattling, and then heard them shoot in every direction, and saw the crowd dispersing in every direction—some running up the hill, and some up the railroad, and some down Twenty-eighth street. In a short time, nobody was there. The troops came down to the round-house, and were quartered there, with the Gatling gun put in position, off Twenty-eighth street. I heard one of the officers of the troops saying, that they could not stand it much longer—that they were yelled at and struck—that they had not come to Pittsburgh to hurt anybody, but that they couldn't stand it much longer. But General Brinton told them, in my hearing, that they shouldn't shoot at all. They had barricaded Twenty-eighth street. The troops were barricaded there. Guards were posted properly, I suppose; but they had no rations, and a good many of the men commenced to complain about something to eat—that they had only had a small lunch since they had left Altoona, or somewhere. Somebody remarked, that they would open up the Gatling gun on the mob, if it didn't quit throwing the stones and missiles at the men. This was about six o'clock. The General came, and said, I don't want a man to shoot, without the barricades are broken in. Stand back, and don't use any violence. I won't allow any shooting to be done, without, it is in self-defense. I remained there until half past eight or nine o'clock. The mob had gathered so thick that it was almost impossible to get through. From Penn up to Liberty, and from Twenty-sixth up to Twenty-eighth streets, there was a solid mass of people. At that time, the old telegraph office was shot into, and stones were thrown into it, and the only thing that prevented them from shooting everybody there, was simply because the street was so much lower, and they had to shoot up, and the balls struck in the ceiling. One or two of the soldiers were struck in the back by missiles, or with stones in the face. One of the officers was struck, and it kind of riled him. By that time, an order came to send to Union depot to take the fast line out. Nobody was about. They had the engine, but no engineer. Mr. White asked me to go down. I said I would, if I could. I tried to get out at the rear of the shops, but the mob would not let me out. An officer was called up to pass me out of the round-house. I said, if you let me out between the office and the old round-house, I can jump off the wall, and get down. Previous to this time, it was generally thought, in the crowd outside, that Mr. Pitcairn and some of the officers, (Mr. Watt,) were in the office—in the outer depot office. It appeared that there was an antipathy against these men, and they wanted to get at them. Some remarks were made that they had coffins for them, and others said: Get them out of there. Just such threats the mob would make. They seemed to have made up their minds that those men had ordered the double-headers, or the reduction, and they were going to take their revenge out of them. They were instructed so (the mob was) by the railroad men. I thought that they were up there. I didn't know they were away. I thought they were there. Then I jumped off the wall. In the act of jumping, I was fired at. I suppose some ten or twelve balls were fired at me by some men there who had no love for me.

By Senator Yutzy:

Q. Who fired?

A. The mob outside. I got out of the crowd and into the Union depot. I found then that it was countermanded—that the fast line was not to go out. I went into the depot, and I don't know who I found, now—but I found out that the train was not to go. I found Mr. Pitcairn there, and I told him I thought it was not a wholesome place for him, that he had better leave. I told him I thought that some of the men were disposed to do him some personal damage if they came across him, and from the way in which the mob or the crowd felt, I didn't think it would be very well for anybody to get in their way at that time. About nine o'clock there was somebody came and asked for volunteers to take an engine out to the outer depot, to take provisions up to the troops. I told them I would, and I waited for some time, and then I found out that they had come to the conclusion that it would not be safe to go up. I heard no more of it until morning. I staid with the engine during that whole night, and saw the fires getting brighter and brighter, and coming closer down. I staid there at Union depot until eleven o'clock Sunday, when I drew the fires out of the engine and left her standing there by the orders of the depot-master, and went home by the way of the Fifth avenue street cars. While waiting for dinner, my brother-in-law heard a train, and I went out on the road, and I saw a train coming backward. I gave a slight signal and the engineer stopped. It was not very hard to stop a train then. The conductor inquired what I wanted; he said that he was going out as far as Walls. I said I would like to go. It seemed that some of the troops were coming in and came as far as Torrens, and were ordered back. I went to bed early in the afternoon after getting there. I came in on Monday, and was at our head-quarters at Fast Liberty. I thought our foreman was there. I reported for duty. About noon he asked me to run the Walls accommodation train. I said, certainly, I will run the train. I run it—no, I did not go out that trip, for the man who had the engine refused to get off, although he had asked in the first place to get off. When I came he refused to give it up. He pulled out a pistol and displayed it, and refused to give the engine up, yet he had asked in the first place to be relieved. So I told Mr. Whetman, our foreman of the round-house. Well, says he, let him run it, but he told me sometime ago, that he was tired and wanted to be relieved. I remained there until afternoon, when I got orders to take the engine. I went down again, and said, I have orders to take this engine. So I took her and run her sometime—I run her that night from Thirty-third street to Walls and back on regular trips. But I didn't make the last trip. In the morning I came in at the usual time. When I came in, it appears that a committee had waited on Mr. Whetman, and told him to take me off that engine. I believe the man Reynolds told him that they would not allow me to run the engine. Then Mr. Henry took the engine and run one round trip, when Mr. Blender took her. But before this, I was to go to Lawrenceville to take a train down to find a committee of men to have a conference about the thing. Mr. Garrett got on the engine. I asked where I was to go at East Liberty. John Shires and McCullough, who were on, were both of this committee, and Mr. Garrett told me that these parties wanted to go down for this conference. Shires spoke up and said, we will give you orders where we want you to go—we are running this road now. In fact I did not know who was running it. I had nothing to say. Five or six more parties got on, and we came to Pittsburgh. Shires gave me orders to go on down. Things went on so all that week. No train went out until the following Sunday, when I was ordered to take the yard engine at Torrens, and load some stock.

By Mr. Lindsey:

Q. Who was Shires?