But about the time the train was ready to move, these mild-mannered laboring men, to the number of five or six hundred, gently closed in upon the train, and put out the fire in the engine so it could not be moved.
Thereupon, I stood upon the sidewalk and addressed this crowd of five or six hundred fire-extinguishers. I told them that I had come there to move the trains, and while I did not want to hurt any one, that the trains would be started, if everybody who interfered first had to be disabled. They gradually skulked away, and I ordered the fire built up again, asserting that I would be back in half an hour to see the trains move. But the men notified the engineer that they would kill any man who undertook to take the train out, and in the fact of that threat no one could be prevailed upon the man engines or train.
Finally, however, one man agreed, if I would accompany him as far as Decatur, about a hundred miles, to endeavor to go out with the train. I told him I could not do that, but I would stand by his side while he was going through the streets of East St. Louis. But he would not agree to this, so that my efforts to move a single train had met with complete failure. The result was that I was driven to the expediency of calling upon the military arm of the State authority.
That evening the troops began to arrive. They were stationed at the strategic points of the city during the night, and the next morning the trains moved out without a single accident or disturbance.
In Chicago, the National Guard did not seem to accomplish anything. The people there did not take them seriously, and the result was that I called upon the National Government to send to that city a few companies of regular troops. I think they came from Omaha. When they arrived, and marched up the streets—that was the end of the strike in that city.
So I managed to get through the trouble without injury to a single person, or the loss of any property except that caused by the delay in the transaction of business. These results were quite different from those in some other parts of the country. My chief private secretary was in the East somewhere, and could not return to me until the trouble was all over.
As Governor of a State in a time when actual war was not flagrant, I could only watch, as might any other American citizen, the exciting proceedings at the National Capital, and hope that our country might issue from the political contest without a weakening of our institutions or loss of prestige. At the same time, I felt that I might appropriately express my approval of the attitude of the National administration, which I did in a letter to the President.
When I was Governor of the State of Illinois, I had the good fortune of becoming intimately acquainted with one of the great soldiers of the recent Civil War, who was, in my judgment, the greatest cavalry leader of modern times,—General Phil Sheridan. He was Commander of the Department of the Lakes during my administration, and I had the pleasure of meeting him on numerous occasions.
At an immense reunion of volunteer soldiers from Northern Illinois, Michigan, and Wisconsin, which was held in Aurora, I, as Governor of the State, was invited to make the first address. General Sheridan was invited to be present and take part in this celebration, and he came down from Chicago, accompanied by his wife. I met them at Aurora. We rode in the same carriage, at the rear of the procession, to the fair grounds, a mile or so distant from the city. The day was hot, and as we entered a dense grove, on the road, the soldiers halted for a breathing spell, and while at rest many of them went to a well near by for water. It was observed by some of the soldiers that General Sheridan remained in the carriage, and they immediately surrounded us. He greeted all cordially and good-naturedly, being very fond of soldiers who had fought on the Union side of the great struggle between the North and the South. What immediately followed pleased Mrs. Sheridan and those who were near, and amused Sheridan himself. A big Irish soldier-boy got hold of Sheridan's hand and pulled him out of the carriage. Being of small stature, General Sheridan was at the mercy of the stalwart Irishman, who dealt with him in a very rough way, slapping him on the back with great force, and with as much earnestness exclaiming: "Boys, this is the damnedest, bravest little Mick in America!"
As is well known now, the operations of General Sheridan in the Shenandoah Valley and the region of Richmond called forth the plaudits of the Nation and the commendation of his superiors. His victories had much to do with bringing the Civil War to a close. He was conscious of the power and value of the cavalry arm of the army. In discussing his great achievements he made the remarkable statement that with a force of five or ten thousand cavalrymen, will organized, he could run over an army of almost any size. Whether this be true or not, it remains that General Grant had implicit confidence in Sheridan's ability to command the cavalry forces in a manner superior to any other officer in the Union Army.