The Fight of a Man With a Railroad

Since early boyhood I have been more or less a traveller, and in the course of my journeyings have been over several thousands of miles of railways in Europe and hundreds of thousands of miles in this country. I do not think I am a novice in the matter of travelling; nor has my experience being confined to railroads. Two voyages to California, Mexico, and Oregon, long journeys up the Columbia River, and two complete stage-trips from the Pacific coast to the Missouri River, have sufficed to give me some knowledge of the way travellers are treated in various parts of the world. I have been connected for several years past with Mr. Joseph Harrison, Jr., of Philadelphia, as a mechanical engineer for the introduction of what is known as the Harrison Safety Boiler. My duties require me to visit large manufacturing corporations to sell and locate these boilers. This compels me to travel from twenty to thirty thousand miles a year, mostly upon railroads.

Being brought into contact, year after year, with all kinds of business men, I have been led to reflect upon the wide difference which exists in the method of conducting ordinary business and that of transportation. In the prosecution of ordinary business a regard for the rights of others, a spirit of accommodation, politeness, and general fair dealing, are absolutely essential to success. But when the same people engage in the transportation of passengers and merchandise upon railroads, the system seems to be reversed. From polite solicitors of custom, they become arrogant dictators to their patrons, just in proportion to the special character and pecuniary value of the privileges they have received from the public whom they maltreat. A system of incivility, oppression, and brutality seems to prevail upon many roads in their treatment of those who support them, which would ruin any other enterprise dependent upon public patronage. The rights of others are ignored or ruthlessly trampled upon. Arbitrary and unjust rules are made, which recognize only the will, not the duties, of the merchants, grocers, butchers, and other men, fashioned like ourselves, who compose that mysterious and high-sounding something called a “Railroad Corporation.” The stockholders are not the men, however, who make the “rules;” power is concentrated in a president, a superintendent, and a handful of directors; and accordingly as these individuals are men of broad, comprehensive minds or of contracted understanding, do we find the roads bearably or unbearably conducted.

Unfortunately for the great army of those who go up and down the land upon railroads, the public has been so busy in this new country that it has unwittingly permitted the railroad men to steal away its liberties. The corporations promise to construct and operate roads for the convenience of the public. This promise is broken at the start. The public convenience is not consulted. The public is informed that the fare shall be just what the road chooses to exact; the equivalent for the fare shall be taken by the passenger in such manner and at such time as pleases, not him, but the railroad; the voucher for the money it has received—the ticket—shall be “good for this day only,” “good for this trip and train only,” “good for six days after date,” etc. That is, the road will keep the money and render nothing in return except upon its own conditions.

The roads also say they will redress their own grievances. They deem it less trouble, or it is more to their taste, to punish offenders against their rules upon the spot, than to seek the remedy prescribed for private individuals in like circumstances. Accordingly, the comfort and tranquillity of peaceful passengers are rudely broken in upon and their lives endangered by a brutal assault upon an offender in a car. Pistols are sometimes drawn in the scuffle, and innocent people are as liable to be shot as the combatants; ladies in delicate health may be put in sudden peril through fright; but the barbarism of the railroad must be carried out, and none but juries seem to recognize the impropriety of the proceedings in a court of law.

I have been inclined to sympathize, at times, with the railroad view of the case, when obscene, profane, or drunken miscreants indulge their propensities in a car occupied by ladies. I wait impatiently for the conductor and his men to eject the scoundrels from the car. But experienced travellers are well aware that this is a class whom the employés of the railroads do not like to attack. Such offenders can oftentimes “strike from the shoulder”; they sometimes carry knives; and the valiant officials generally give the danger a wide berth, and leave the passengers to submit to their outrageous conduct, and take whatever risks may be involved. It is when quiet and inoffensive people differ from the officials of a railway that their zeal becomes conspicuous. It is when a man loses his ticket and has no money, that he is pushed from a car in the dark through a Jersey bridge and is drowned. It is a poor fellow too intoxicated to resist who is thrust from a train between the stations, in another State, and the following train runs over and kills him. It is an old lady and her daughter who are driven from a sleeping-car in a rain-storm, at midnight, into a little country station, in the interior of Vermont, for the heinous crime of travelling upon tickets a day or two later than the “regulations” of the road permit; and so on through the whole catalogue of cowardly outrages which have disgraced our American railroads.

It would be natural to infer that where such despotic powers are entrusted to the officers of the railroads, they would be offset by equally great concessions to the opposite party, their patrons. The possession of such powers would suggest excellent accommodations, comfort, and that careful attention to the minor wants of the traveller which is common to European roads. It would suggest comfortable and spacious depots with all the modern appliances for the convenience and well-being of the passenger while in the hands of the road. Is this true of the American railroad? Has the boasted civilization of this country reached the point attained in countries upon whose short-comings we bestow our pity? Are the appointments of most of our depots and cars those of common decency, to say nothing of refinement?

Conceive the respect and admiration for American institutions which a newly arrived Frenchman must feel, as he remembers the spacious and elegant stations of his own country, with their cheerful waiting-rooms and comfortable restaurants, in which neat and polite attendants wait upon the weary traveller. Upon the platform civil and attentive porters attend to his baggage, and show him his proper train and place. No noise, no confusion; everything decorous; if he requires information about his journey, it is civilly given him. Conceive the sensations of this man, I say, as he enters for the first time that windy, frightful place at Springfield, Massachusetts, which they call a depot, amidst the bewildering confusion of screaming whistles and clanging bells. No attendant is there to indicate his particular train among the many that are rushing back and forth in distracting and dangerous proximity to his person. Shouts and yells, — hackmen pulling, — baggage smashing. Every man for himself, and look out for the locomotive! Worse yet think of our miserable foreigner entering that gloomy, disgusting, pick-pockets paradise, the so-called depot at New Haven, Connecticut. The English language contains sixty thousand words, many of which have delicate shades of meaning and are adequate to the description of most nuisances; but when we come to the New Haven depot, we give it up in mute despair. Think of our Frenchman again. How his admiration of us must increase as he enters the cattle-sheds of New Jersey, to start for Washington or the West; or, when he returns from the West, and is dumped in the mud at midnight in Albany, where there is not even the pretence of a shed! Think of this faint and famished foreigner after his ride, when he seeks refreshment at a railroad restaurant, and is forced to partake of dyspepsia in the inevitable stale railroad pie, and the boiled and reboiled bilious-looking wash they denominate coffee. Think of the poor mans fatigued wife and baby, as they vainly seek a proper retiring-room, with such conveniences as are customary in more civilized countries. Think of the unclean dens called “Gentlemen’s Rooms,” in which the traveller wearily waits the coming train. If those vile places are for gentlemen, what impression must our foreign friend receive of the American gentleman, for whom such places are good enough? Consider the effect upon a foreigner of a tour in this country!

Enter one of our most improved cars upon an express-train after it has been filled for an hour with passengers, and observe the holes styled ventilators; is it strange the atmosphere should be that of a dog-kennel? About five hundred square inches of openings to permit the escape of nearly one and one half million cubic inches of foul air, exhaled from the lungs of fifty human beings in one hour! This noxious arrangement we will not always lay up against the management, for it may be an error of brains, not heart, and we shall only blame some of the wealthy trunk lines, where the ventilators are so arranged that the passengers are plentifully covered with cinders and dust. That directors are less ignorant than might be supposed of what is necessary to make a long journey a pleasure, instead of an exhausting process to the traveller, is shown by the well-appointed, luxurious cars which they provide for themselves. It is perfectly proper for them to enjoy such cars. The cars, splendid as they are, are none too good for them. It is hard work to travel; and they are entitled to the enjoyment of all the appliances which will render travel comfortable. And so are the rest of the travelling public. It would be eminently proper to provide an entire train of just such cars for all long travel.

Then observe the imperious bearing of the railway employé towards the public, from the “railway king” down to the brakeman on a coal-train. “Like master, like servant.” Hear the gruff, unsatisfactory replies given by a surly underling to the modest inquiry of a timid passenger. Nothing but “cheek” and the plaid vest and heavy gold chain meet with deferential consideration from these important railroad gentlemen, who act as though the public were a nuisance to be pushed aside, and got rid of in the most peremptory manner possible.

There are many noble exceptions. There are many men of gentlemanly instincts who are conductors, ticket-masters, and brakemen, upon every railroad, whose kind and polite consideration to passengers, even under trying circumstances, causes them to be held in grateful remembrance by the thousands with whom they come in contact, and for them we have nothing but the kindest words. But these bright examples serve only to heighten the contrast between them and such as have been described. The numberless petty infractions of equity and common decency committed by the roads may be of only temporary and trivial annoyance to people who travel but once or twice in the year. The insult or injury stings at the time, but passes out of remembrance when the journey is done. But it is quite another matter to the thousands of people who pass a large portion of their lives upon the railroads. The sting of a single mosquito is soon over; but the daily stings of a swarm of these insignificant insects would finally drive any man to desperation. It was with something of this feeling, after witnessing for years impositions and brutalities upon others, as well as suffering needless annoyances myself, that the following occurrence took place upon the New York and New Haven Railroad.

About four years ago, I purchased a ticket from Providence to New York, via Hartford and New Haven. At New Haven my business detained me until too late in the evening to resume my journey by rail. I therefore took the eleven o’clock boat in order to pass a comfortable night, and to be able to meet my engagements the next day. That left the railway coupon ticket from New Haven to New York on my hands. I afterwards had no opportunity to use the ticket in the direction in which it was marked; always happening thereafter to travel with through tickets from Boston to New York. In returning to Boston from New York, June 11, 1868, I applied at the office of the New York and New Haven Railroad in Twenty-Seventh Street, New York, for a ticket to Boston via Springfield. The ticket-master refused to sell me one unless I would wait three hours for the train which left at three o’clock P. M. going through to Boston. He said he would sell me a local ticket to Springfield, and I could buy another from there to Boston. This would cost more than seven dollars to Boston, instead of six dollars, the regular through fare, which of course I did not want to pay. I told him expressly that I wished to stop over at a way station, one train, to do some telegraphing, but without avail; he would not sell the ticket. As I could not wait three hours, I thought it would be a good time to use up my old coupon, as I was accustomed to do upon other roads under similar circumstances. Accordingly, I presented the coupon to the guard stationed at the entrance to the cars. He rudely and imperiously refused me admittance, stating that the ticket was good for nothing. Some warm words passed between us, and he finally called the conductor, who stood near. The conductor was, if possible, more imperious than the guard. He said the ticket was “good for nothing” and peremptorily ordered me not to go on board the cars. I told him I thought the ticket was good, and that I was accustomed to use coupons in that way upon all other roads over which I travelled. He replied that “it was no such thing; he travelled more than I did and knew all about it”: and concluded by saying that “if I attempted to get upon the cars” he “would put me off.” Severe remarks were made by several gentlemen standing near to the conductor during this time, to the effect that this was another manifestation of the general spirit of insolence and meanness towards passengers for which that road was noted. I then purchased a ticket to Providence via New Haven and Hartford, and got on board the train. I felt irritated at the treatment I had received, and having a constitutional objection to being brow-beaten, I determined to ascertain why the practice with regard to tickets on this road was so unlike that upon other roads. Having had time to recover my equanimity somewhat after the cars had started, and supposing the conductor might be still angry and unreasonable, I determined to put the case to him, as one gentleman would to another, and to exercise self-control, that my manner should he quiet and give him no cause for offence. Accordingly, as he approached me in taking up his tickets, I said, “Mr. Conductor, there is no use for you and me to quarrel about this ticket. This is a plain business matter, an affair of dollars and, cents only. The case stands like this: I am travelling nearly all the time; and being frequently compelled to diverge from the route that I intended to take in starting, I am left with unused coupons. These coupons all cost me money; and by the end of the year they would accumulate to such an extent that they would represent too large a sum for me to lose.”

The conductor replied, “That coupon is good from New Haven to New York, but it is not good from New York to New Haven. My directors ordered me, three years ago, not to take such tickets, and I shall not do it.” I then said, “My position is this; I have paid this road a certain amount of money for a certain amount of service, and I think I am entitled to that amount of service, whether my face is turned east or west. You say this ticket is good from New Haven to New York, which is seventy-four miles; I think it is good from New York to New Haven, which is also seventy-four miles; and I cannot understand the distinction which you make.” A gentleman who sat before me remarked at this moment, “If there is any meanness which has ever been discovered upon a railroad, it is sure to be found upon this one, for it is the meanest railroad ever laid out of doors.” I replied, “If this is so, I hope they will make an exception in my case, as all I require are the common courtesies of the road and an equivalent for my money.” The conductor said, “I see you are all linked together to make me trouble.” And he went along.

The gentleman who had spoken to me requested to see my coupon, and remarked that he had never heard the question raised before, and certainly had never heard the case put in that way. He further remarked that, “Whether it was law or not, it was common sense.” A part of the Board of Trade delegation of Boston was in the car, returning from the Philadelphia Convention. Among these were Mr. Curtis Guild, Mr. Eugene H. Sampson, and a prominent railroad director of Boston, Mr. B. B. Knight, a cotton-manufacturer of Providence, and other gentlemen from both cities. Several of these gentlemen, who had become interested in the discussion, requested to see the coupon, and they took the same view of the matter that I did.

As we were approaching Stamford, the conductor again came to me, and said in a very abrupt manner, “Well, sir how shall we settle this matter?” I said, “Just as before; there is the ticket, and I wish to go to New Haven; the circumstances have not altered in the least.” I had determined to take the matter quietly; the conductor saw that it was useless to attempt to frighten me by his imperious manner, and he then began to remonstrate, saying, “You have no business to make me disobey my directors, and lose my place upon the road; I have to get my living in this way, and it is mean for you to do so.” This was a new aspect of the case, and I replied, “That is the only embarrassing question which has arisen in this discussion. I have no quarrel with you, and I would not do you a personal injury upon any consideration; but you and I both have travelled long enough to know that this matter is wholly within your discretion. You can take this coupon and turn it in at New York where you turn in your other tickets, and no one will know whether it is taken going east or going west, and no one will care.” My meaning was, that, as no injury was done, no injury could be known. He took the remark the other way; and said, in a sneering tone, evidently for the benefit of the other passengers, “You might just as well ask me to steal ten dollars from the company, because they would not know it.” I replied, “Theoretically, that may be true; but, practically, it is nonsense; you very well know that I have no intention to defraud this road; but in order to relieve you of all embarrassment about your position, I will make you a proposition: Here is my address, and these gentlemen know that I am responsible; you take the ticket and turn it in, and if you are even reprimanded for it by your directors, write to me, and I will send you the money for the ticket, upon your promise as a gentleman that you will send the ticket to me again; for I shall want the ticket.”

The passengers said, “That was very fair and would avoid all trouble.” The conductor said, “It is very fair, but I shan’t do it, that’s all; I want another ticket out of you, sir.” I said, “I shall not give you one.” He said, “Then I shall request you to get off this train at Stamford.” I replied, “I shall just as politely decline to do so.” He said, “Then I will put you off.” I replied in general terms, and with some natural heat, that I did not believe he was able to do it. He said, “I guess I can put you off if I get help enough.” I told him that was undoubtedly true, but warned him that I would pursue the matter further, if he brought his roughs into the car and laid hands upon me.

At this moment the elderly gentleman who sat in front of me rose and said, “Mr. Conductor, I am a ‘railroad man,’ and in my judgment this gentleman’s position is correct. If he brings it to an issue, I think he will beat you; but if you think he is not correct, but trying to evade his fare, the proper way is to telegraph to New Haven, and have a policeman come aboard and quietly arrest him; that is business-like; but don’t you take the law into your own hands and throw him off the train, for that is not done nowadays upon any respectable railroad.” I said, “Certainly, I will submit to a policeman, but I will not be thrown off by him.” The conductor sneeringly replied, “We don’t do business in that style on this road.” I said, “I have been aware of that for ten years past; and I propose to see if you cannot be compelled to do business in that style upon this road.” He said we were all against him, and he would leave it to the superintendent.

The train had stopped in the mean time at Stamford. I paid no further attention to the conductor, but commenced reading. Very soon some one shouted, “They are coming for you.” The conductor came in at the head of five or six rough brakemen and baggage-men, and said, pointing to me, “This is the man; pull him out, and put him out on the platform.” They seized my coat and tried to roll me out of the seat. My coat tore, and they did not move me. This seemed to enrage them, and they sprang upon me like so many tigers. Two of them seized me by the legs, and as many as could got in back of the seat and seized me by the shoulders and commenced violently wrenching me from the seat. I instinctively grasped the arms of the seat, and they took the cushion and frame up with me. When they got me into the aisle, and had me completely at their mercy, three heavy blows with the clinched fist were struck upon the back of my head. Every individual in the car jumped to his feet the instant the blows were struck. The ladies screamed, and some of the gentlemen rushed to stop the conductor and his roughs from striking me. Fearing for my life, I struck one of the ruffians under the chin, and planted a blow square in the face of another. We had a hard struggle until they overpowered me. They carried me horizontally until they reached the car door, when they dropped my feet a little to pass through singly. I struck another away from me, and he went over between the cars. They fiercely grasped me again and threw me broadside from the platform of the car down upon the platform of the depot. I struck heavily on my side, my whole length. In this struggle they tore the flesh upon my arm and legs, and they ruptured me for life. The passengers swarmed out of the cars, and gave me their addresses. The superintendant came up, and I told him I would give him a dose of common law, and see if I could not teach him something. He said he would give me all the law I wanted, if I wished to test the case. I then ran and jumped on the train as it was in motion. The superintendent and his son and another man ran after and seized me around the body, stripped me off the car, and held me by main strength until the train was clear of the depot. As soon as they released me, I drew my through ticket from my pocket, and asked them why they held me. The superintendent started as though I had struck him, and said, “Why didn’t you show that ticket before, sir?” I said, “Because it is not customary to show tickets in getting on at the way-stations, and you did not give me a chance.” He said, “If you had been a gentleman, you would have shown that ticket.” I replied, “I do not ask your opinion as to who is a gentleman, for you are no judge.” He said, “You tried to steal your ride to New Haven and sell your ticket; and now we will give you all the law you want; and we’ll show you that the laws in Connecticut are different from where you came from.”

I took that for granted, and returned to New York. When I reached Boston again, I attached the New York and Boston express-train, partly owned by the New Haven Road, in the Boston and Albany depot, and brought suit against them in the Superior Court of Massachusetts for ten thousand dollars damages. The first trial of the case occurred in April, 1869. The judge charged directly against passengers upon every point. He ruled that the ticket was a contract. That the road had a right to make any rule it pleased for its own government; and if a passenger broke a rule, he was a trespasser; and, being a trespasser, the road had the same right to eject him from its cars that one of the jurymen had to eject a man from his private house if he did not want him there. The only question for the jury to consider was, whether an excess of violence had been used by the road in the maintenance of a right. The jury, after being out only one hour, awarded me thirty-three hundred dollars damages. The judge, at the request of the road, after several weeks delay, set the verdict aside on the exclusive ground that the amount was excessive.

The second trial occurred in the same court in January, 1870, and resulted in a disagreement of the jury. They stood eleven to one for me, and it was afterwards understood that the man who disagreed had been connected in some capacity with the road. The third trial took place in May, 1870, and resulted in an award of thirty-four hundred and fifty dollars damages. Again the road demanded a new trial, which the judge refused to grant. The road then appealed to the Supreme Court upon points of law. The judge in charging the jury had happened to say, that it the resistance of the plaintiff to ejectment from the car consisted in simply refusing to walk out when he was told to go by the conductor, of course blows on the head, such as had been testified to, were unnecessary; and if the jury were satisfied that such blows had been given, a verdict should be rendered accordingly. This bit of common sense gave a new opportunity for the exhibition of that wonderful subtlety called law. The Supreme Court, after the usual tedious delay of several months, in which plaintiff and witnesses had abundant time to die, gave the New York and New Haven Railway Corporation another opportunity to fulfil their threat of making it terrible for the public to fight it, right or wrong. It decreed that the judge had no right to give an opinion as above, but should have left the question for the jury. Accordingly a new trial was granted, which took place in June, 1871. Up to this time three people connected with the suit had died, and one witness for the plaintiff had moved to Kansas; while young girls who were on the train when the outrage was committed had passed from girlhood through long courtships, and were already matrons. However, with the impetuosity of a youthful temperament and the knowledge of a just cause, I made another onslaught upon the corporation after only thirteen months delay since the last trial, and obtained a verdict of thirty-five hundred dollars damages, after one hours deliberation by the jury.

For the fifth time the road demanded another trial, which being refused by the judge, they again appealed from his ruling to the Supreme Court. They asked the judge to charge the jury, that if the plaintiff had a tendency to hernia, or any physical disability that was liable to be increased by violence, the plaintiff ought to have so informed the employés of the road; and failing in that, he, and not the road, was responsible for the consequences. According to the railroad theory, therefore, if a gentleman is attacked by a scoundrel, unless the victim gives a complete diagnosis of his condition to the ruffian, he, and not the villain who struck him, is responsible for consequences when his skull is broken. To obtain the opinion of the Supreme Court of Massachusetts upon this important point has taken twelve months more, but I am happy to be able to state, that at last one point is established by the Massachusetts courts in favor of the rights of railroad passengers, namely, that it is not necessary for a man to inform a ruffianly aggressor what his grandmother died of, nor to describe his hereditary symptoms, even though it is the employé of a railroad corporation who comes to strike him.

The case was of simple brutal assault in a public railroad car. The witnesses for the plaintiff were well-known merchants of Boston, who were members of the Board of Trade, railroad directors, and steamboat men, as well as others, including ladies. Their testimony was clear and consistent throughout every trial. Pitted against their testimony was that of the brake-men, the baggage-men, and the conductor, every one of whom was in the employment of the road and a party to the assault. Not a passenger who saw the outrage committed in the car was brought forward by the road. The testimony of the employés was so absurd upon the first trial, that the court was repeatedly interrupted by laughter. No testimony of theirs upon any after trial has been like that of the first, but was manufactured to suit the theory of the railroad. It has been privately admitted by the road that “the facts were with me, but the law,” meaning, I suppose, the judge’s rulings, “was with them.” So simple a case would have been disposed of at a single hearing in in a minor court, had it occurred between two poor men. But I have been compelled to pass through four weary trials, lasting four years, gaining quick verdicts from juries, and being defeated only by the first judge, who granted a new trial to this railroad corporation, because thirty-three hundred dollars were excessive damages for the beating and rupturing of a man by their servants. Being the chief justice, his rulings, of course, were taken as the law governing the case by the associate judges who presided at the subsequent trials, and from whom I received great courtesy and fairness.

But the contest is finished after the exhaustion of every legal device, and there is something to be said about it in the interest of the public. I have been repeatedly told by parties interested in the road, that the company had too much money to be beaten by me and they would spend enough to defeat me. The paragraph at the head of this article is quoted from a statement made to me by an influential person connected with the corporation. These threats were of no consequence as applied to me, for their object was intimidation. They did not succeed. The corporation is beaten. I have received the money for damages which they said they never would pay, and my personal contest is ended. But these threats were not directed against myself alone, but against the public. This expensive suit was prolonged to prove that “right or wrong they would make it so terrible for the public to fight the road that they would stop it.” If a limb is crushed by the negligence of the railroad men, fight instead of pay the victim, is their theory of dealing with the public; and they will remove all opposition by the power of wealth, influence with courts, and sheer terrorism. “They may make any rules they please” for the public, and may carry out their arbitrary designs against the people, in spite of decency or common sense.

The only advantage to be derived from this story is to open the question whether the people or the corporations are the rulers of this country. Are the railroads and the courts the masters or the servants of the people who pay for both? Are we quietly to allow railroad corporations to go on forever taking possession of legislatures and establishing the law for our courts? Are we to allow only the extreme railroad view of a case to be the law of our courts? Or are there two sides to a railroad question, as to all others? If so, where shall we go that both sides may be fairly considered? Law is said to be common sense. Does it fairly represent the common sense of the intelligent people of Massachusetts, that a private individual shall be kept in her courts for four years at enormous expense in a case of simple assault, merely because the assailant was a rich railroad corporation?

It has sometimes been asked, If you wanted to test this ticket question, why not permit them to lead you from the car and then sue them? I reply, I did not want to test the ticket question. I did not believe the conductors statement as to what was the rule of the road, for they had taken similar tickets for years in the same way. I simply wanted to go to New Haven, about my business. I considered I had the same right to my seat which a man has to his private house, for which he has paid the rent; and I was under no obligation to submit to be ejected because my right was denied, or voluntarily to go into an expensive suit to prove that I was right, any more than to allow a man to lead me from the midst of my own family in the house which I had hired and paid for, and remain out of it until the question was tested in a court of law. I will state more particularly the points of this case.

In the first place, I deny that a common railroad ticket is a contract, in the sense in which the judge decided it. A traveller applies, for example, at the ticket office for a passage between New York and New Haven. He passes his money to the ticket master; a receipt for that money is returned to him printed all over with “rules,” “good for this day only,” “forfeited if detached,” “company not responsible for baggage,” “passengers shall carry nothing for baggage but wearing apparel”; and if they desired, they might add, “the company will hang the passengers at the end of the route.” Let them make “any rule they please,” and the judge says, it is a contract. Has the road alone the right to supply the conditions to the contract? Is the view of the court correct, that the great public is so near nothing that it shall have no part in the making of a contract to which it certainly is as much a party as the road? A contract implies more than one party, except in the eyes of this court and the railway company. It is idle to reply that the acceptance of the ticket implies assent to its provisions on the part of the passenger. He cannot help himself; they have got his money and he must take anything they choose to give him. The train is waiting; his business is urgent; and he must make the best of his helpless situation.

Another thing: the conditions of a contract cannot be supplied by one party after the transaction is ended. If I buy a ticket to-day, the road certainly has no right (regarded in the light at least of common sense) to inform me, months afterward, what the conditions are upon which I may use that ticket. It was bound to make that knowledge known to me at the time the transaction was made. Is this ticket a contract which is forced upon a passenger in exchange for his money? Or is it simply, like a baggage-check, the evidence that the road has a passenger’s property in its possession, for which it is bound to return an equivalent? The equivalent, in this case, was seventy-four miles’ travel. A case, some time since decided in Massachusetts, went beyond this point. A gentleman lost his ticket, and it was well known to the ticket master and conductor that he had paid for his ride. He refused to pay twice, and was arrested. His counsel urged that he had bought a passage, and in order to distinguish him from other men who had not bought passages, the company chose to adopt a ticket as a means of marking him. They might have pinned a tag upon him, or chalked his back. It would seem that a railroad ticket is more like the issue of a banking corporation; I deposit my money and they give me their tickets, or what we term bank-bills, which are redeemable at my convenience. The same with the road; and, in the mean time, both institutions have the use of my money. Would it be law for the hank to “make any rule it pleased,” and declare that my money should be forfeited if I did not call for it six days from date? How absurd for the bank to maintain that it was a rule of theirs, which one of their clerks said was given him verbally several years before by the cashier, who in any event had no right to make any rules at all. Suppose I had gone to California as soon as I had deposited the money. I could not have drawn my money in six days; must I lose it?

The facts regarding this particular ticket for which I was beaten were, that the coupon ticket said, “New Haven to New York,” and had no special provision, nor even a date upon it. Under sharp cross-examination by my counsel, the superintendent was reluctantly compelled to swear that it was the province of the directors of the road to make rules about taking tickets. He just as reluctantly swore that they had never made a rule against taking tickets backwards. He was obliged to swear, that he alone gave, or thought he gave, verbal orders to the conductor, some three years previous to this occurrence, not to take tickets in that way. He had no more right to make such a rule than had one of his brake-men. If a ticket is a contract per se, then where is the government contract stamp on it, as on any other contract? If that judge’s ruling is good law, the road would seem to be liable to heavy penalties for all the contracts it has issued without such stamps It is either a contract or it is not a contract; it certainly cannot be both. I maintain that a ticket simply represents that a certain amount of money has been paid for a certain amount of travel between two points; and, as it is no loss to the road whether the ride is taken in one direction or the opposite, it has no right to make an unreasonable rule against the convenience of the passenger. The road sends trains hack and forth, year in and year out, and there is no pretence, even on the part of the road, that any special provision is made for a special passenger. If the United States government should issue postage-stamps which would take letters from New York to Boston, but would not take them from Boston to New York, it would be considered ridiculous, and the public would not tolerate such contemptible quibbling. If this is nonsense with a letter, it certainly is with a man.

The judge further says: “The road may make any rule it pleases for its own government, and if a passenger breaks the rule he is a trespasser and, being a trespasser, he may be ejected from the car, like a trespasser in a private house.” If a company of men club together and build a cotton-mill, and I owe them two dollars, the payment of which they choose to think I am trying to evade, and they order a number of roughs to pound me and throw me down a flight of steps, there is no question what will become of them; but when these same men build a railroad instead of a mill, and the State grants them liberty to seize my best lot, cut the end from my neighbor’s mill, and go through the farm of another, whether we like it or not, they then seem to be suddenly endowed with absolute power. They may then take the law into their own hands, and punish with brute violence any one whom they suspect of attempting to defraud them, to any extent they please, short of killing their victim. If a reasonable question arises between a passenger and a conductor, the latter, according to this ruling, is to be judge, jury, and executioner, from whom there is no appeal; and he may at will bring in to execute his purpose a crowd of irresponsible ruffians, who love excitement in the shape of a fight. The hapless passenger is hustled, wrenched, and oftentimes maimed for life, as in this case; and the law, as laid down by the judge, leaves it to the discriminating judgment of these ruffians to determine to what point their brutality may extend before it becomes an excess of violence. And if the conductor and his minions happen to err in judgment and produce injuries which neither time nor medical skill can ever repair, the crippled passenger may appeal to the “quiet remedy of the law” for redress.

And what is redress? Theoretically, as unsophisticated people look at it, it means that simple facts are to be laid before a third party, who will carefully weigh the evidence, and judge one party to be right, and the other to be wrong, according to strict and impartial justice; practically, it means something about as uncertain as a horse-race, with every advantage taken in presenting evidence by the use of trained witnesses, whose living depends upon the extent to which they will perjure themselves in the interest of the road. The umpire between the contending parties may be the recipient of “courtesies” from railroad corporations in the shape of free railroad passes, complimentary invitations to directors excursions, and annual dinners. Unless he be more than human, the coloring of his views and the weight of his influence must naturally be against the public and in favor of the wealthy and powerful corporations. Otherwise, why are these favors and valuable gifts conferred upon judges, legislators, prominent lawyers, and upon members of the press? Why do not others receive like considerations from the railroads? It is because the railways have no use for them. No one believes that railroad corporations give valuable considerations to others out of mere compliment or generosity. Who ever heard of a generous railroad? It means business It means quid pro quo. It means keeping upon the right side, as it is termed, of those whose influence might be liable to damage the road. And thus it is that precedents are established, and what is called by that mysterious term law is always construed in the interest of the strong few against the public, and always will be so construed until the public makes a direct issue with the roads and assumes its natural place as master instead of slave of corporations.

For flagrant proof of the foregoing assertions, it is only necessary to refer to the infamous corruptions practised, year after year, in the lobbies of State legislatures, the complete mastery of the judiciary of certain districts by prominent railroad men in New York, New Jersey, and Pennsylvania. And, indeed, it would be difficult to point to a road in the country whose record is clean in this respect. Every year the power of the railroad corporations to trample upon the rights of the public is becoming greater, notwithstanding its proportions are already frightful. The corporations are centralizing power by consolidation, making themselves a unit against the public. They over-awe and control the entire business of the country. This is no mere figure of speech. Two men equal in intelligence and means own mills situated upon roads converging at a certain point and equidistant from that point. Their conditions may he precisely alike, and both compete for the same market. By the ruling of the judge, the “railroad has a right to make any rule it pleases for its own government,” and one of the roads makes a rule that its freight tariff shall be double the rates upon the other road. The profit is swept from the manufacturer, and the field is given to his competitor upon that other road; his business is ruined; his mill lies idle, and becomes worthless; he is shut up by the rail-road. The freights may afford the road an exorbitant profit, but the “road has a right to make any rule it pleases.” Does the public charter railroad corporations as speculative enterprises against itself? Does the public take away private property and give it to a company of private individuals called a railway corporation, so that it may make any rule it pleases? and though it can carry the public at a handsome profit for two cents a mile, it may charge three, five, or ten cents per mile, at its pleasure? Does the public intend to furnish a set of men a weapon to cut its own throat? Does it intend deliberately to tax itself enormously through them for a common service, so that a few favored individuals may become inordinately arrogant and rich? Assuredly not. The intent of a railroad charter is, that the public and its freight may be taken back and forth, and the company be paid a suitable compensation for the service it renders, and no more. In other words, a railroad is intended as a convenience for the public, not the public a convenience for the railroad. A railroad is only an improved turnpike at the best. The State long since abolished the abuses of the old turnpike system by taking the turnpikes out of the hands of private individuals. It is a serious question, whether it would not he well to apply the same process to the present improved turnpikes upon which abuses are so flagrant.

There is scarcely one road whose charter has not been broken by nonfulfilment of its provisions. If the enormous taxes which the roads now impose upon the people should be devoted to State purposes, the result would he nearly or quite the abolition of the State tax which the public now pays in addition to the unfair amounts taken by the roads. In any event it would seem to be time that the public appointed men to the legislatures, or, what would be still better, to Congress, who would consider first the great changes that have taken place since the first establishment of railroads and railroad law; that travel is not as formerly an event in a man’s life, but a habit; and that laws which would apply well enough to the business, when roads were first made and travellers were few, are not broad enough to meet the present demand upon them. We need a general railroad law which should cover the following points First, that the fares shall be uniform and at reasonable rates, say two cents per mile. If it is necessary for a new road to receive a higher rate until it shall be upon a paying basis, allow it an excess and limit the time during which an excess shall be charged; or else pay the road a subsidy from the State funds, upon the principle on which poor post routes are maintained, keeping the rates low, and inducing thereby an influx of settlers who will eventually support the road. Second, when a first-class fare is paid, a first-class passage shall be given in a comfortable car, with such appointments as the law shall specify; polite and kind treatment to be required from employés, and the comfort and convenience of passengers to be assured, as well as the safety of life and limb. When a person is taken in charge by a railroad, he must be delivered in good order at the end of the journey, undamaged in feelings and person, as he was received. Third, when a dollar is received for travel from a passenger, the equivalent of that dollar shall be returned in travel; not according to the caprice of the company, but according to equity and justice, and the reasonable demand of the passenger. Fourth, in all cases of disagreement or of wrong-doing, the road shall be compelled to confine itself to the same peaceful means of redress as an individual, and cause arrests only by regular authority appointed by law, unless the offender be guilty of obscene or indecent conduct in the car, or commit a trespass upon life and property. The present mediæval system of barbarity in the summary treatment of passengers must give place to something in accordance with the enlightenment of the nineteenth century. The railroad companies must be made aware that the travelling public is not composed of cattle or sheep; nor are they in any sense the natural prey of the companies, but human beings, entitled to consideration as such. The American people are a long-suffering race. But let the corporations who are presuming upon their good-nature, reflect that they are sowing the wind, and the mutterings of a storm are beginning to be heard that betoken that they will one day reap the whirlwind.