The Strike at Gilman: A Powder Keg in the Coal Fields
As a bitter labor struggle winds down in the town of Gilman, a local resident denies rumors of an armed siege, painting a chaotic picture of saloon brawls and Winchester rifles.
The story, cleaned up
A cleaned-up reading of the newspaper page: spelling and layout repaired, one story lifted off a crowded page. It follows the original closely but it is not a transcription. The original page is below; read it if a detail matters.
The story published in yesterday's POST-INTELLIGENCER by a man who has recently been stopping at Thomas Rowley's house at Gilman is denied by T. J. Mullarkey. He said yesterday: 'There are only six or seven at the most of the strikers left and it would be very foolish for us to keep up a row with 200 or 300 men. We know we are licked and the strike is over. The general impression is that Rowley stoned his own windows and raised a row in order to keep the deputy there, because the deputy had a pull with the miners and acted as a capper for him, telling them that at Rowley's house they would get protection. I don't think Rowley goes around with a gun. I have never seen any guns around his house and there is no arsenal in sight.'
The way that row began on Christmas day was that three men came down from the mine to Cooper's saloon, and said: 'Where are the strikers?' Then a blacksmith from the mine hit a man named Martin on the head with a revolver. Martin took the revolver away and did him up bad. They went down there to a row, and they got it.
Dr. Harrell did not make me hold up my hands that time when he pointed his gun at me. I went with a friend to an Italian saloon, and Harrell came in with a Winchester and pointed it at me. I took hold of the barrel and turned it to one side, and told him to shoot if he wanted to. Then we both let go of the gun, and it fell to the floor. Well, we had our scrap out, and I told him to pick up his gun and take it home to his wife; she knew better how to use it than he did.
“I told him to pick up his gun and take it home to his wife; she knew better how to use it than he did.”
The labor tensions in Gilman (modern-day Issaquah) reveal the volatile environment of Washington's early industrial era, where disputes over mines and company housing often escalated into armed street confrontations. This echoes today’s ongoing struggle for labor protections and safety in the shadow of corporate dominance in the Puget Sound region.
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