As most of Homestead, Pennsylvania, slept on the morning of July 6, 1892, two boats moved slowly up the Monongahela River toward the Carnegie Steel Company’s mill in the town. On board were nearly three hundred men employed by the Pinkerton National Detective Agency who had been hired by Carnegie Steel to secure the mill and clear the way for its reopening. For a week, the mill had sat closed and fortified after a lockout of its workforce, and company officials believed it could not be reopened safely without armed protection for replacement workers.

Anticipating an attempt by Carnegie Steel to bring in armed security, people from the town had been posted along the river as lookouts. Once they saw the boats, the call went out to wake people up. As one journalist from the time wrote, a “horseman riding at breakneck speed dashed into the streets of Homestead giving the alarm as he sped along.”

By 4am, armed men waited by the waters for the boats to dock. They were furious and ferocious, believing their lives depended on the outcome. They knew of the Pinkerton’s reputation for ending strikes and doing so violently, and were ready to “defend their homes and their property and their lives, with force, if necessary,” as one worker later said.

When the Pinkerton men began to disembark, a shot rang out. It’s not clear who fired first. But a battle ensued.

The Pinkerton men were well-armed with Winchester rifles. The people of Homestead had improvised their weaponry, bringing with them whatever could be found — old muzzle-loading rifles long since outdated, pistols, even an old heavy cannon that hadn’t been fired in years.

The river itself became part of the fight as a raft and a freight car were set ablaze and pushed toward the boats, in hopes of burning them down. Neither succeeded.

Though better armed, the Pinkerton men could not effectively challenge the townspeople defending their livelihoods. Soon, many of the Pinkerton men went below deck. As one said, “It was a place of torment.” Another said, “Men were lying around wounded and bleeding and piteously begging for someone to give them a drink of water, but no one dared to get a drop, although water was all around us.”

At 5pm, and after four prior attempts, the Pinkerton’s request to surrender was accepted by the townspeople. The men were marched to the local jail for the night and sent off by train the following day.

While the numbers vary by source, around 10 men died in the battle, most of them from the Homestead side.

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