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Title: Anarchy and Anarchists - Communism, Socialism, and Nihilism in Doctrine and in Deed
Author: Schaack, Michael
Language: English
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[Illustration: Michael J. Schaack.]



                        ANARCHY AND ANARCHISTS.

                             A HISTORY OF
               THE RED TERROR AND THE SOCIAL REVOLUTION
                        IN AMERICA AND EUROPE.

                  COMMUNISM, SOCIALISM, AND NIHILISM
                       IN DOCTRINE AND IN DEED.

                   THE CHICAGO HAYMARKET CONSPIRACY,
           AND THE DETECTION AND TRIAL OF THE CONSPIRATORS.

                                  BY
                          MICHAEL J. SCHAACK,
                          CAPTAIN OF POLICE.

        WITH NUMEROUS ILLUSTRATIONS FROM AUTHENTIC PHOTOGRAPHS,
                      AND FROM ORIGINAL DRAWINGS

        BY WM. A. MCCULLOUGH, WM. OTTMAN, LOUIS BRAUNHOLD, TRUE
         WILLIAMS, CHAS. FOERSTER, O. F. KRITZNER, AND OTHERS.

                            [Illustration]

                               CHICAGO:
                       F. J. SCHULTE & COMPANY.
              NEW YORK AND PHILADELPHIA: W. A. HOUGHTON.
   ST. LOUIS: S. F. JUNKIN & CO.      PITTSBURG: P. J. FLEMING & CO.
                             MDCCCLXXXIX.



                           COPYRIGHT, 1889,
                        BY MICHAEL J. SCHAACK.
                         ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

       _THE ILLUSTRATIONS IN THIS WORK ARE ALL ORIGINAL, AND ARE
                       PROTECTED BY COPYRIGHT._



                                  TO
                          HON. JOSEPH E. GARY
                                AND TO
                        HON. JULIUS S. GRINNELL
               THIS VOLUME IS RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED BY
                              THE AUTHOR.



PREFACE.

IT has seemed to me that there should be a history of the development,
the revolt, and the tragedy of Anarchy in Chicago. This history I have
written as impartially and as fairly as I knew how to write it. I have
kept steadily before my eyes the motto,—

  “Nothing extenuate, nor set down aught in malice.”

It will be found in the succeeding pages that neither animosity against
the revolutionists, nor partiality to the State, has influenced the
work. I have dealt with this episode in Chicago’s history as calmly
and as fairly as I am able. I have tried to put myself in the position
of the misguided men whose conspiracy led to the Haymarket explosion
and to the gallows; to understand their motives; to appreciate their
ideals—for so only could this volume be properly written.

And to present a broader view, I have added a history of all forms of
Socialism, Communism, Nihilism and Anarchy. In this, though necessarily
brief, it has been the purpose to give all the important facts, and to
set forth the theories of all those who, whether moderate or radical,
whether sincerely laboring in the interests of humanity or boisterously
striving for notoriety, have endeavored or pretended to improve upon
the existing order of society.

After the dynamite bomb exploded, carrying death into the ranks of men
with whom I had been for years closely associated—after an impudent
attack had been made upon our law and upon our system, which I was
sworn to defend—it came to me as a duty to the State, a duty to my
dead and wounded comrades, to bring the guilty men to justice; to
expose the conspiracy to the world, and thus to assist in vindicating
the law. How the duty was performed, this story tells.

It is a plain narrative whose interest lies in the momentous character
of the facts which it relates. Much of it is now for the first time
given to the public. I have drawn upon the records of the case, made
in court, but more especially upon the reports made to me, during the
progress of the investigation, by the many detectives who were working
under my direction.

I can say for my book no more than this: that from the first page to
the last there is no material statement which is not to my knowledge
true. The reader, then, may at least depend upon the accuracy of the
information presented here, even if I cannot make any other claim.

It would be unfair and ungrateful if I did not seize this opportunity
to put on lasting record my obligations to Judge Julius S. Grinnell,
who was State’s Attorney during the investigation. His support, steady
and full of tact, enabled me to go through with the work, in spite of
obstacles deliberately put in my way. My position was a delicate and
difficult one: had it not been for him, and for others, success would
have been almost impossible.

Nor can I forego this occasion to bear testimony to the magnificent
police work done in the case by Inspector Bonfield and his brother,
James Bonfield, and by the officers who acted directly with me. These
were Lieut. Charles A. Larsen and Officers Herman Schuettler, Michael
Whalen, Jacob Loewenstein, Michael Hoffman, Charles Rehm, John Stift
and B. P. Baer. Mr. Edmund Furthmann, at that time Assistant State’s
Attorney, as I have elsewhere recorded, worked upon the inquiry into
the conspiracy with an acumen, a perseverance and an industry which
were beyond all praise. I knew, when he was first associated with me
in the case, that the outcome must be a victory for outraged law, and
the result vindicated the prediction. To Mr. Thomas O. Thompson and to
Mr. John T. McEnnis much of the literary form of this volume is to be
credited, and to them also I am under lasting obligations.

  MICHAEL J. SCHAACK.

  _Chicago, February, 1889._



TABLE OF CONTENTS.


  CHAPTER I.

  The Beginning of Anarchy—The German School of Discontent—The
  Socialist Future—The Asylum in London—Birth of a Word—Work
  of the French Revolution—The Conspiracy of Babeuf—Etienne
  Cabet’s Experiment—The Colony in the United States—Settled
  at Nauvoo—Fourier and his System—The Familistère at
  Guise—Louis Blanc and the National Work-shops—Proudhon,
  the Founder of French Anarchy—German Socialism: Its Rise
  and Development—Rodbertus and his Followers—“Capital,”
  by Karl Marx—The “Bible of the Socialists”—The Red
  Internationale—Bakounine and his Expulsion from the
  Society—The New Conspiracy—Ferdinand Lassalle and the
  Social Democrats—The Birth of a Great Movement—Growth of
  Discontent—Leaders after Lassalle—The Central Idea of the
  Revolt—American Methods and the Police Position,                   17


  CHAPTER II.

  Dynamite in Politics-Historical Assassinations—Infernal
  Machines in France—The Inventor of Dynamite—M. Noble
  and his Ideas—The Nitro-Compounds—How Dynamite is
  Made—The New French Explosive—“Black Jelley” and the
  Nihilists—What the Nihilists Believe and What they
  Want—The Conditions in Russia—The White and the Red
  Terrors—Vera Sassoulitch—Tourgenieff and the Russian
  Girl—The Assassination of the Czar—“It is too Soon to Thank
  God”—The Dying Emperor—Two Bombs Thrown—Running Down the
  Conspirators—Sophia Perowskaja, the Nihilist Leader—The
  Handkerchief Signal—The Murder Roll—Tried and Convicted—A
  Brutal Execution—Five Nihilists Pay the Penalty—Last Words
  Spoken but Unheard—A Deafening Tattoo—The Book-bomb and
  the Present Czar—Strychnine-coated Bullets—St. Peter and
  Paul’s Fortress—Dynamite Outrages in England—The Record of
  Crime—Twenty-nine Convicts and their Offenses—Ingenious
  Bomb-making—The Failures of Dynamite,                              28


  CHAPTER III.

  The Exodus to Chicago—Waiting for an Opportunity—A
  Political Party Formed—A Question of $600,000—The First
  Socialist Platform—Details of the Organization—Work at
  the Ballot-Box—Statistics of Socialist Progress—The
  “International Workingmen’s Party” and The “Workingmen’s Party
  of the United States”—The Eleven Commandments of Labor—How
  the Work was to be Done—A Curious Constitution—Beginnings
  of the Labor Press—The Union Congress—Criticising the
  Ballot-Box—The Executive Committee and its Powers—Annals
  of 1876—A Period of Preparation—The Great Railroad
  Strikes of 1877—The First Attack on Society—A Decisive
  Defeat—Trying Politics Again—The “Socialistic Party”—Its
  Leaders and its Aims—August Spies as an Editor—Buying the
  _Arbeiter-Zeitung_—How the Money was Raised—Anarchist
  Campaign Songs—The Group Organization—Plan of the
  Propaganda—Dynamite First Taught—“The Bureau of
  Information”—An Attack on Arbitration—No Compromise with
  Capital—Unity of the Internationalists and the Socialists,         44


  CHAPTER IV.

  Socialism, Theoretic and Practical—Statements of the
  Leaders—Vengeance on the “Spitzels”—The Black Flag in the
  Streets—Resolutions in the _Alarm_—The Board of Trade
  Procession—Why it Failed—Experts on Anarchy—Parsons,
  Spies, Schwab and Fielden Outline their Belief—The
  International Platform—Why Communism Must Fail—A French
  Experiment and its Lesson—The Law of Averages—Extracts
  from the Anarchistic Press—Preaching Murder—Dynamite
  or the Ballot-Box?—“The Reaction in America”—Plans for
  Street Fighting—Riot Drill and Tactics—Bakounine and the
  Social Revolution—Twenty-one Statements of an Anarchist’s
  Duty—Herways’ Formula—Predicting the Haymarket—The Lehr
  und Wehr Verein and the Supreme Court—The White Terror and
  the Red—Reinsdorf, the Father of Anarchy—His Association
  with Hoedel and Nobiling—Attempt to Assassinate the German
  Emperor—Reinsdorf at Berlin—His Desperate Plan—“Old Lehmann”
  and the Socialist’s Dagger—The Germania Monument—An Attempt
  to Kill the Whole Court—A Culvert Full of Dynamite—A Wet
  Fuse and no Explosion—Reinsdorf Condemned to Death—His Last
  Letters—Chicago Students of his Teachings—De Tocqueville and
  Socialism,                                                          74


  CHAPTER V.

  The Socialistic Programme—Fighting a Compromise—Opposition
  to the Eight-hour Movement—The Memorial to Congress—Eight
  Hours’ Work Enough—The Anarchist Position—An _Alarm_
  Editorial—“Capitalists and Wage Slaves”—Parsons’
  Ideas—The Anarchists and the Knights of Labor—Powderly’s
  Warning—Working up a Riot—The Effect of Labor-saving
  Machinery—Views of Edison and Wells—The Socialistic
  Demonstration—The Procession of April 25, 1886—How the
  _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ Helped on the Crisis—The Secret Circular of
  1886,                                                              104


  CHAPTER VI.

  The Eight-hour Movement—Anarchist Activity—The Lock-out at
  McCormick’s—Distorting the Facts—A Socialist Lie—The True
  Facts about McCormick’s—Who Shall Run the Shops?—Abusing the
  “Scabs”—High Wages for Cheap Work—The Union Loses $3,000 a
  Day—Preparing for Trouble—Arming the Anarchists—Ammunition
  Depots—Pistols and Dynamite—Threatening the Police—The
  Conspirators Show the White Feather—Capt. O’Donnell’s
  Magnificent Police Work—The Revolution Blocked—A Foreign
  Reservation—An Attempt to Mob the Police—The History
  of the First Secret Meeting—Lingg’s First Appearance
  in the Conspiracy—The Captured Documents—Bloodshed at
  McCormick’s—“The Battle Was Lost”—Officer Casey’s Narrow
  Escape,                                                            112


  CHAPTER VII.

  The _Coup d’État_ a Miscarriage—Effect of the Anarchist
  Failure at McCormick’s—“Revenge”—Text of the Famous
  Circular—The German Version—An Incitement to Murder—Bringing
  on a Conflict—Engel’s Diabolical Plan—The Rôle of the Lehr
  und Wehr Verein—The Gathering of the Armed Groups—Fischer’s
  Sanguinary Talk—The Signal for Murder—“Ruhe” and its
  Meaning—Keeping Clear of the Mouse-Trap—The Haymarket
  Selected—Its Advantages for Revolutionary War—The Call for
  the Murder Meeting—“Workingmen, Arm Yourselves”—Preparing the
  Dynamite—The _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ Arsenal—The Assassins’ Roost
  at 58 Clybourn Avenue—The Projected Attack on the Police
  Stations—Bombs for All who Wished Them—Waiting for the Word
  of Command—Why it was not Given—The Leaders’ Courage Fails,      129


  CHAPTER VIII.

  The Air Full of Rumors—A Riot Feared—Police
  Preparations—Bonfield in Command—The Haymarket—Strategic
  Value of the Anarchists’ Position—Crane’s Alley—The Theory
  of Street Warfare—Inflaming the Mob—Schnaubelt and his
  Bomb—“Throttle the Law”—The Limit of Patience Reached—“In
  the Name of the People, Disperse”—The Signal Given—The Crash
  of Dynamite First Heard on an American Street—Murder in the
  Air—A Rally and a Charge—The Anarchists Swept Away—A Battle
  Worthy of Veterans,                                                139


  CHAPTER IX.

  The Dead and the Wounded—Moans of Anguish in the Police
  Station—Caring for Friend and Foe—Counting the Cost—A City’s
  Sympathy—The Death List—Sketches of the Men—The Doctors’
  Work—Dynamite Havoc—Veterans of the Haymarket—A Roll of
  Honor—The Anarchist Loss—Guesses at their Dead—Concealing
  Wounded Rioters—The Explosion a Failure—Disappointment of the
  Terrorists,                                                        149


  CHAPTER X.

  The Core of the Conspiracy—Search of the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_
  Office—The Captured Manuscript—Jealousies in the Police
  Department—The Case Threatened with Failure—Stupidity at
  the Central Office—Fischer Brought in—Rotten Detective
  Work—The Arrest of Spies—His Egregious Vanity—An Anarchist
  “Ladies’ Man”—Wine Suppers with the Actresses—Nina Van
  Zandt’s Antecedents—Her Romantic Connection with the
  Case—Fashionable Toilets—Did Spies Really Love Her?—His
  Curious Conduct—The Proxy Marriage—The End of the
  Romance—The Other Conspirators—Mrs. Parsons’ Origin—The
  Bomb-Thrower in Custody—The Assassin Kicked Out of the Chief’s
  Office—Schnaubelt and the Detectives—Suspicious Conduct at
  Headquarters—Schnaubelt Ordered to Keep Away From the City
  Hall—An Amazing Incident—A Friendly Tip to a Murderer—My
  Impressions of the Schnaubelt Episode—Balthasar Rau and Mr.
  Furthmann—Phantom Shackles in a Pullman—Experiments with
  Dynamite—An Explosive Dangerous to Friend and Foe—Testing the
  Bombs—Fielden and the Chief,                                      156


  CHAPTER XI.

  My Connection with the Anarchist Cases—A Scene at the Central
  Office—Mr. Hanssen’s Discovery—Politics and Detective
  Work—Jealousy Against Inspector Bonfield—Dynamiters on
  Exhibition—Courtesies to the Prize-fighters—A Friendly
  Tip—My First Light on the Case—A Promise of Confidence—One
  Night’s Work—The Chief Agrees to my Taking up the
  Case—Laying Our Plans—“We Have Found the Bomb Factory!”—Is
  it a Trap?—A Patrol-wagon Full of Dynamite—No Help Hoped
  for from Headquarters—Conference with State’s Attorney
  Grinnell—Furthmann’s Work—Opening up the Plot—Trouble
  with the Newspaper Men—Unexpected Advantage of Hostile
  Criticism—Information from Unexpected Quarters—Queer Episodes
  of the Hunt—Clues Good, Bad and Indifferent—A Mysterious
  Lady with a Veil—A Conference in my Back Yard—The Anarchists
  Alarmed—A Breezy Conference with Ebersold—Threatening
  Letters—Menaces Sent to the Wives of the Men Working
  on the Case—How the Ladies Behaved—The Judge and Mrs.
  Gary—Detectives on Each Other’s Trail—The Humors of the
  Case—Amusing Incidents,                                           183


  CHAPTER XII.

  Tracking the Conspirators—Female Anarchists—A Bevy of
  Beauties—Petticoated Ugliness—The Breathless Messenger—A
  Detective’s Danger—Turning the Tables—“That Man is
  a Detective!”—A Close Call—Gaining Revolutionists’
  Confidence—Vouched for by the Conspirators—Speech-making
  Extraordinary—The Hiding-place in the Anarchists’
  Hall—Betrayed by a Woman—The Assassination of Detective Brown
  at Cedar Lake—Saloon-keepers and the Revolution—“Anarchists
  for Revenue Only”—Another Murder Plot—The Peep-hole
  Found—Hunting for Detectives—Some Amusing Ruses of the
  Revolutionists—A Collector of “Red” Literature and his
  Dangerous Bonfire—Ebersold’s Vacation—Threatening the
  Jury—Measures Taken for their Protection—Grinnell’s Danger—A
  “Bad Man” in Court—The Find at the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_
  Office—Schnaubelt’s Impudent Letter—Captured
  Correspondence—The Anarchists’ Complete Letter-writer,            206


  CHAPTER XIII.

  The Difficulties of Detection—Moving on the Enemy—A
  Hebrew Anarchist—Oppenheimer’s Story—Dancing over
  Dynamite—Twenty-Five Dollars’ Worth of Practical Socialism—A
  Woman’s Work—How Mrs. Seliger Saved the North Side—A
  Well-merited Tribute—Seliger Saved by his Wife—The Shadow
  of the Hangman’s Rope—A Hunt for a Witness—Shadowing a
  Hack—The Commune Celebration—Fixing Lingg’s Guilt—Preparing
  the Infernal Machines—A Boy Conspirator—Lingg’s Youthful
  Friend—Anarchy in the Blood—How John Thielen was Taken into
  Camp—His Curious Confession—Other Arrests,                       230


  CHAPTER XIV.

  Completing the Case—Looking for Lingg—The Bomb-maker’s
  Birth—Was he of Royal Blood?—A Romantic Family History—Lingg
  and his Mother—Captured Correspondence—A Desperate and
  Dangerous Character—Lingg Disappears—A Faint Trail
  Found—Looking for Express Wagon 1999—The Number that Cost
  the Fugitive his Life—A Desperado at Bay—Schuettler’s
  Death Grapple—Lingg in the Shackles—His Statement at
  the Station—The Transfer to the Jail—Lingg’s Love for
  Children—The Identity of his Sweetheart—An Interview with
  Hubner—His Confession—The Meeting at Neff’s Place,               256


  CHAPTER XV.

  Engel in the Toils—His Character and Rough Eloquence—Facing
  his Accusers—Waller’s Confession—The Work of the Lehr
  und Wehr Verein—A Dangerous Organization—The Romance
  of Conspiracy—Organization of the Armed Sections—Plans
  and Purposes—Rifles Bought in St. Louis—The Picnics at
  Sheffield—A Dynamite Drill—The Attack on McCormick’s—A
  Frightened Anarchist—Lehman in the Calaboose—Information
  from many Quarters—The Cost of Revolvers—Lorenz Hermann’s
  Story—Some Expert Lying,                                          283


  CHAPTER XVI.

  Pushing the Anarchists—A Scene on a Street-car—How
  Hermann Muntzenberg Gave Himself Away—The Secret
  Signal—“D——n the Informers”—A Satchelful of Bombs—More
  about Engel’s Murderous Plan—Drilling the Lehr und Wehr
  Verein—Breitenfeld’s Cowardice—An Anarchist Judas—The
  Hagemans—Dynamite in Gas-pipe—An Admirer of Lingg—A
  Scheme to Remove the Author—The Hospitalities of the Police
  Station—Mrs. Jebolinski’s Indignation—A Bogus Milkman—An
  Unwilling Visitor—Mistaken for a Detective—An Eccentric
  Prisoner—Division of Labor at the Dynamite Factory—Clermont’s
  Dilemma—The Arrangements for the Haymarket,                       312


  CHAPTER XVII.

  Fluttering the Anarchist Dove-cote—Confessions by
  Piecemeal—Statements from the Small Fry—One of
  Schnaubelt’s Friends—“Some One Wants to Hang Me”—Neebe’s
  Bloodthirsty Threats—Burrowing in the Dark—The
  Starved-out Cut-throat—Torturing a Woman—Hopes of _Habeas
  Corpus_—“Little” Krueger’s Work—Planning a Rescue—The Signal
  “? ? ?” and its Meaning—A Red-haired Man’s Story—Firing the
  Socialist Heart—Meetings with Locked Doors—An Ambush for the
  Police—The Red Flag Episode—Beer and Philosophy—Baum’s Wife
  and Baby—A Wife-beating Revolutionist—Brother Eppinger’s
  Duties,                                                            334


  CHAPTER XVIII.

  The Plot against the Police—Anarchist Banners and
  Emblems—Stealing a Captured Flag—A Mystery at a
  Station-house—Finding the Fire Cans—Their Construction and
  Use—Imitating the Parisian Petroleuses—Glass Bombs—Putting
  the Women Forward—Cans and Bombs Still Hidden Among the
  Bohemians—Testing the Infernal Machines—The Effects of
  Anarchy—The Moral to be Drawn—Looking for Labor Sympathy—A
  Crazy Scheme—Gatling Gun _vs._ Dynamite—The Threatened Attack
  on the Station-houses—Watching the Third Window—Selecting a
  Weapon—Planning Murder—The Test of Would-be Assassins—The
  Meeting at Lincoln Park—Peril of the Hinman Street
  Station-house—A Fortunate Escape,                                 364


  CHAPTER XIX.

  The Legal Battle—The Beginning of Proceedings in Court—Work
  in the Grand Jury Room—The Circulation of Anarchistic
  Literature—A Witness who was not Positive—Side Lights on the
  Testimony—The Indictments Returned—Selecting a Jury—Sketches
  of the Jurymen—Ready for the Struggle,                            376


  CHAPTER XX.

  Judge Grinnell’s Opening—Statement of the Case—The
  Light of the 4th of May—The Dynamite Argument—Spies’
  Fatal Prophecy—The Eight-hour Strike—The Growth of the
  Conspiracy—Spies’ Cowardice at McCormick’s—The “Revenge”
  Circular—Work of the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ and the _Alarm_—The
  Secret Signal—A Frightful Plan—“Ruhe”—Lingg, the
  Bomb-maker—The Haymarket Conspiracy—The Meeting—“We are
  Peaceable”—After the Murder—The Complete Case Presented,         390


  CHAPTER XXI.

  The Great Trial Opens—Bonfield’s History of the Massacre—How
  the Bomb Exploded—Dynamite in the Air—A Thrilling
  Story—Gottfried Waller’s Testimony—An Anarchist’s
  “Squeal”—The Murder Conspiracy Made Manifest by Many
  Witnesses,                                                         404


  CHAPTER XXII.

  “We are Peaceable”—Capt. Ward’s Memories of the Massacre—A
  Nest of Anarchists—Scenes in the Court—Seliger’s
  Revelations—Lingg, the Bomb-maker—How he cast his Shells—A
  Dynamite Romance—Inside History of the Conspiracy—The Shadow
  of the Gallows—Mrs. Seliger and the Anarchists—Tightening
  the Coils—An Explosive Arsenal—The Schnaubelt Blunder—Harry
  Wilkinson and Spies—A Threat in Toothpicks—The Bomb
  Factory—The Board of Trade Demonstration,                         419


  CHAPTER XXIII.

  A Pinkerton Operative’s Adventures—How the Leading Anarchists
  Vouched for a Detective—An Interesting Scene—An Enemy in the
  Camp—Getting into the Armed Group—No. 16’s Experience—Paul
  Hull and the Dynamite Bomb—A Safe Corner Where the Bullets
  were Thick—A Revolver Tattoo—“Shoot the Devils”—A Reformed
  Internationalist,                                                  445


  CHAPTER XXIV.

  Reporting under Difficulties—Shorthand in an Overcoat
  Pocket—An Incriminating Conversation—Spies and Schwab in
  Danger—Gilmer’s Story—The Man in the Alley—Schnaubelt
  the Bomb-thrower—Fixing the Guilt—Spies Lit the Fuse—A
  Searching Cross-Examination—The Anarchists Alarmed—Engel
  and the Shell Machine—The Find at Lingg’s House—The Author
  on the Witness-stand—Talks with the Prisoners—Dynamite
  Experiments—The False Bottom of Lingg’s Trunk—The Material
  in the Shells—Expert Testimony—Incendiary Banners—The
  Prosecution Rests—A Fruitless Attempt to have Neebe
  Discharged,                                                        457


  CHAPTER XXV.

  The Programme of the Defense—Mayor Harrison’s
  Memories—Simonson’s Story—A Graphic Account—A Bird’s-eye
  View of Dynamite—Ferguson and the Bomb—“As Big as a Base
  Ball”—The Defense Theory of the Riot—Claiming the Police were
  the Aggressors—Dr. Taylor and the Bullet-marks—The Attack
  on Gilmer’s Veracity—Varying Testimony—The Witnesses who
  Appeared,                                                          478


  CHAPTER XXVI.

  Malkoff’s Testimony—A Nihilist’s Correspondence—More
  about the Wagon—Spies’ Brother—A Witness who Contradicts
  Himself—Printing the Revenge Circular—Lizzie Holmes’
  Inflammatory Essay—“Have You a Match About You?”—The Prisoner
  Fielden Takes the Stand—An Anarchist’s Autobiography—The Red
  Flag the Symbol of Freedom—The “Peaceable” Meeting—Fielden’s
  Opinion of the _Alarm_—“Throttling the Law”—Expecting
  Arrest—More about Gilmer,                                         491


  CHAPTER XXVII.

  The Close of the Defense—Working on the Jury—The Man who
  Threw the Bomb—Conflicting Testimony—Michael Schwab on the
  Stand—An Agitator’s Adventures—Spies in his Own Defense—The
  Fight at McCormick’s—The Desplaines Street Wagon—Bombs and
  Beer—The Wilkinson Interview—The Weapon of the Future—Spies
  the Reporter’s Friend—Bad Treatment by Ebersold—The Hocking
  Valley Letter—Albert R. Parsons in his Own Behalf—His
  Memories of the Haymarket—The Evidence in Rebuttal,               506


  CHAPTER XXVIII.

  Opening of the Argument—Mr. Walker’s Speech—The Law
  of the Case—Was there a Conspiracy?—The Caliber of
  the Bullets—Tightening the Chain—A Propaganda on the
  Witness-stand—The Eight-hour Movement—“One Single Bomb”—The
  Cry of the Revolutionist—Avoiding the Mouse-trap—Parsons and
  the Murder—Studying “Revolutionary War”—Lingg and his Bomb
  Factory—The Alibi Idea,                                           525


  CHAPTER XXIX.

  The Argument for the Defendants—“Newspaper Evidence”—Bringing
  about the Social Revolution—Arson and Murder—The Right to
  Property—Evolution or Revolution—Dynamite as an Argument—The
  Arsenal at 107 Fifth Avenue—Was it all Braggadocio?—An Open
  Conspiracy—Secrets that were not Secrets—The Case Against the
  State’s Attorney—A Good Word for Lingg—More About “Ruhe”—The
  “Alleged” Conspiracy—Ingham’s Answer—The _Freiheit_
  Articles—Lord Coleridge on Anarchy—Did Fielden Shoot at
  the Police?—The Bombs in the Seliger Family—Circumstantial
  Evidence in Metal—Chemical Analysis of the Czar Bomb—The
  Crane’s Alley Enigma,                                              535


  CHAPTER XXX.

  Foster and Black before the Jury—Making Anarchist History—The
  Eight Leaders—A Skillful Defense—Alibis All Around—The
  Whereabouts of the Conspirators—The “Peaceable Dispersion”—A
  Miscarriage of Revolutionary War—Average Anarchist
  Credibility—“A Man will Lie to Save his Life”—The Attack
  on Seliger—The Candy-man and the Bomb-thrower—Conflicting
  Testimony—A Philippic against Gilmer—The Liars of
  History—The Search for a Witness—The Man with the Missing
  Link—The Last Word for the Prisoners—Captain Black’s
  Theory—High Explosives and Civilization—The West Lake Street
  Meeting—Defensive Armament—Engel and his Beer—Hiding the
  Bombs—The Right of Revolution—Bonfield and Harrison—The
  Socialist of Judea,                                                545


  CHAPTER XXXI.

  Grinnell’s Closing Argument—One Step from Republicanism to
  Anarchy—A Fair Trial—The Law in the Case—The Detective
  Work—Gilmer and his Evidence—“We Knew all the Facts”—Treason
  and Murder—Arming the Anarchists—The Toy Shop Purchases—The
  Pinkerton Reports—“A Lot of Snakes”—The Meaning of the
  Black Flag—Symbols of the Social Revolution—The _Daily
  News_ Interviews—Spies the “Second Washington”—The
  Rights of “Scabs”—The Chase Into the River—Inflaming
  the Workingmen—The “Revenge” Lie—The Meeting at the
  _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ Office—A Curious Fact about the Speakers
  at the Haymarket—The Invitation to Spies—Balthasar Rau and
  the Prisoners—Harrison at the Haymarket—The Significance of
  Fielden’s Wound—Witnesses’ Inconsistencies—The Omnipresent
  Parsons—The Meaning of the Manuscript Find—Standing between
  the Living and the Dead,                                           560


  CHAPTER XXXII.

  The Instructions to the Jury—What Murder is—Free Speech and
  its Abuse—The Theory of Conspiracy—Value of Circumstantial
  Evidence—Meaning of a “Reasonable Doubt”—What a Jury May
  Decide—Waiting for the Verdict—“Guilty of Murder”—The
  Death Penalty Adjudged—Neebe’s Good Luck—Motion for a New
  Trial—Affidavits about the Jury—The Motion Overruled,            578


  CHAPTER XXXIII.

  The Last Scene in Court—Reasons Against the Death
  Sentence—Spies’ Speech—A Heinous Conspiracy to Commit
  Murder—Death for the Truth—The Anarchists’ Final
  Defense—Dying for Labor—The Conflict of the Classes—Not
  Guilty, but Scapegoats—Michael Schwab’s Appeal—The Curse of
  Labor-saving Machinery—Neebe Finds Out what Law Is—“I am
  Sorry I am not to be Hung”—Adolph Fischer’s Last Words—Louis
  Lingg in his own Behalf—“Convicted, not of Murder, but of
  Anarchy”—An Attack on the Police—“I Despise your Order, your
  Laws, your Force-propped Authority. Hang me for it!”—George
  Engel’s Unconcern—The Development of Anarchy—“I Hate and
  Combat, not the Individual Capitalist, but the System”—Samuel
  Fielden and the Haymarket—An Illegal Arrest—The Defense
  of Albert R. Parsons—The History of his Life—A Long
  and Thrilling Speech—The Sentence of Death—“Remove the
  Prisoners,”                                                        587


  CHAPTER XXXIV.

  In the Supreme Court—A _Supersedeas_ Secured—Justice
  Magruder Delivers the Opinion—A Comprehensive Statement of
  the Case—How Degan was Murdered—Who Killed Him?—The Law of
  Accessory—The Meaning of the Statute—Were the Defendants
  Accessories?—The Questions at Issue—The Characteristics
  of the Bomb—Fastening the Guilt on Lingg—The Purposes
  of the Conspiracy—How they were Proved—A Damning Array
  of Evidence—Examining the Instructions—No Error Found
  in the Trial Court’s Work—The Objection to the Jury—The
  Juror Sandford—Judge Gary Sustained—Mr. Justice Mulkey’s
  Remarks—The Law Vindicated,                                       608


  CHAPTER XXXV.

  The Last Legal Struggle—The Need of Money—Expensive Counsel
  Secured—Work of the “Defense Committee”—Pardon, the Only
  Hope—Pleas for Mercy to Gov. Oglesby—Curious Changes
  of Sentiment—Spies’ Remarkable Offer—Lingg’s Horrible
  Death—Bombs in the Starch-box—An Accidental Discovery—My
  own Theory—Description of the “Suicide Bombs”—Meaning of
  the Short Fuse—“Count Four and Throw”—Details of Lingg’s
  Self-murder—A Human Wreck—The Bloody Record in the Cell—The
  Governor’s Decision—Fielden and Schwab Taken to the
  Penitentiary,                                                      620


  CHAPTER XXXVI.

  The Last Hours of the Doomed Men—Planning a Rescue—The
  Feeling in Chicago—Police Precautions—Looking for a
  Leak—Vitriol for a Detective—Guarding the Jail—The Dread
  of Dynamite—How the Anarchists Passed their Last Night—The
  Final Partings—Parsons Sings “Annie Laurie”—Putting up the
  Gallows—Scenes Outside the Prison—A Cordon of Officers—Mrs.
  Parsons Makes a Scene—The Death Warrants—Courage of the
  Condemned—Shackled and Shrouded for the Grave—The March to
  the Scaffold—Under the Dangling Ropes—The Last Words—“Hoch
  die Anarchie!”—“My Silence will be More Terrible than
  Speech”—“Let the Voice of the People be Heard”—The Chute
  to Death—Preparations for the Funeral—Scenes at the Homes
  of the Dead Anarchists—The Passage to Waldheim—Howell
  Trogden Carries the American Flag—Captain Black’s Eulogy—The
  Burial—Speeches by Grottkau and Currlin—Was Engel
  Sincere?—His Advice to his Daughter—A Curious Episode—Adolph
  Fischer and his Death-watch,                                       639


  CHAPTER XXXVII.

  Anarchy Now—The Fund for the Condemned Men’s Families—$10,000
  Subscribed—The Disposition of the Money—The Festival
  of Sorrow—Parsons’ Posthumous Letter—The Haymarket
  Monument—Present Strength of the Discontented—7,300
  Revolutionists in Chicago—A Nucleus of Desperate Men—The
  New Organization—Building Societies and Sunday-schools—What
  the Children are Taught—Education and Blasphemy—The
  Secret Propaganda—Bodendick and his Adventures—“The
  Rebel Vagabond”—The Plot to Murder Grinnell, Gary and
  Bonfield—Arrest of the Conspirators Hronek, Capek, Sevic and
  Chleboun—Chleboun’s Story—Hronek Sent to the Penitentiary,       657


  CHAPTER XXXVIII.

  The Movement in Europe—Present Plans of the Reds—Stringent
  Measures Adopted by Various European Governments—Bebel and
  Liebknecht—A London Celebration—Whitechapel Outcasts—“Blood,
  Blood, Blood!”—Verestchagin’s Views—The Bulwarks of
  Society—The Condition of Anarchy in New York, Philadelphia,
  Pittsburg, Cincinnati, St. Louis and other American Cities—A
  New Era of Revolutionary Activity—A Fight to the Death—Are we
  Prepared?                                                          682


  APPENDICES,                                                        691


[Illustration: THE FRENCH REVOLUTION—“THE FEAST OF REASON.”]



ANARCHY AND ANARCHISTS.



CHAPTER I.

 The Beginning of Anarchy—The German School of Discontent—The
 Socialist Future—The Asylum in London—Birth of a Word—Work
 of the French Revolution—The Conspiracy of Babeuf—Etienne
 Cabet’s Experiment—The Colony in the United States—Settled at
 Nauvoo—Fourier and his System—The Familistère at Guise—Louis
 Blanc and the National Work-shops—Proudhon, the Founder of French
 Anarchy—German Socialism: Its Rise and Development—Rodbertus and his
 Followers—“Capital,” by Karl Marx—The “Bible of the Socialists”—The
 Red Internationale—Bakounine and his Expulsion from the Society—The
 New Conspiracy—Ferdinand Lassalle and the Social Democrats—The Birth
 of a Great Movement—Growth of Discontent—Leaders after Lassalle—The
 Central Idea of the Revolt—American Methods and the Police Position.


THE conspiracy which culminated in the blaze of dynamite and the groans
of murdered policemen on that fatal night of May 4th, 1886, had its
origin far away from Chicago, and under a social system very different
from ours.

In order that the reader may understand the tragedy, it will be
necessary for me to go back to the commencement of the agitation,
and to show how Anarchy in this city is the direct development of
the social revolt in Europe. After “the red fool fury of the French”
had burnt itself out, the nations of the Old World, exhausted by the
Titanic struggle with Napoleon, lay quiet for nearly a quarter of a
century. The doctrines which had brought on the Reign of Terror had not
died. After a period of quiet, the evangel of the Social Revolution
again began. There was uneasiness throughout Europe. In France the
Bourbons were driven out, although the cause of the people was betrayed
by Louis Napoleon. In Germany the demand for a constitution was pushed
so strongly that even the sturdy Hohenzollerns had to give way before
it. In Hungary there was a popular ferment. Poland was ready for a new
rising against Russia. In Russia the movement which subsequently came
to be known as Nihilism was born. In Italy Garibaldi and Mazzini were
laying the foundations for the throne which the house of Savoy built
upon the work of the secret societies.

Nor must the reader believe that all this turmoil had not beneath it
real grievances and honest causes. The peasantry and the laboring
classes of Europe had been oppressed and plundered for centuries. The
common people were just beginning to learn their power, and, while the
excesses into which they were led were deplorable, it is not difficult
to understand the causes which made the crisis inevitable.

There is nothing ever lost by endeavoring to enter fairly and
impartially into another’s position—by trying to understand the
reasons which move men, and the creeds which sway them. Anarchy as a
theory is as old as the school men of the middle ages. It was gravely
debated in the monasteries, and supported by learned casuists five
centuries ago. As a practice it was first taught in France, and
later in Germany. It caught the unthinking, impressible throng as
the proper protest against too much government and wrong government.
It was ably argued by leaders capable of better things,—men who
turned great talents toward the destruction of society instead of
its upbuilding,—and the fruit of their teachings we have with us in
Chicago to-day.

[Illustration: STORMING THE BASTILE.]

Our Anarchy is of the German school, which is more nearly akin to
Nihilism than to the doctrines taught in France. It is founded upon
the teachings of Karl Marx and his disciples, and it aims directly at
the complete destruction of all forms of government and religion. It
offers no solution of the problems which will arise when society, as
we understand it, shall disappear, but contents itself with declaring
that the duty at hand is tearing down; that the work of building up
must come later. There are several reasons why the revolutionary
programme stops short at the work of Anarchy, chief among which is
the fact that there are as many panaceas for the future as there are
revolutionists, and it would be a hopeless task to think of binding
them all to one platform of construction. The Anarchists are all agreed
that the present system must go, and so far they can work together;
after that each will take his own path into Utopia.

[Illustration: KARL MARX.]

Their dream of the future is accordingly as many-colored as Joseph’s
coat. Each man has his own ideal. Engels, who is Karl Marx’s successor
in the leadership of the movement, believes that men will associate
themselves into organizations like coöperative societies for mutual
protection, support and improvement, and that these will be the only
units in the country of a social nature. There will be no law, no
church, no capital, no anything that we regard as necessary to the life
of a nation.

The theory of Anarchy will, however, be sufficiently developed in the
pages that follow. It is its history as a school which must first be
examined.

England is really responsible for much of the present strength of the
conspiracy against all governments, for it was in the secure asylum
of London that speculative Anarchy was thought out by German exiles
for German use, and from London that the “red Internationale” was and
probably is directed. This was the result of political scheming, for
the fomenting of discontent on the continent has always been one of the
weapons in the British armory.

In England itself the movement has only lately won any prominence,
although it was in England that it was baptized “Socialism” by Robert
Owen, in 1835, a name which was afterwards taken up both in France and
Germany. The English development is hardly worth consideration in as
brief a presentation of the subject as I shall be able to give. Before
passing to an investigation of the growth and the history of Socialism
and Anarchy, I wish to express here, once for all, my obligations to
Prof. Richard T. Ely’s most excellent history of “French and German
Socialism in Modern Times.” This monograph, like everything else which
has come from the pen of this gifted young economist, contains so clear
a statement and so complete a marshaling of the facts that it is not
necessary to go beyond it for the story of continental discontent.

The French Revolution drew a broad red line across the world’s history.
It is the most momentous fact in the annals of modern times. There is
no need for us to go behind it, or to examine its causes. We can take
it as a fact—as the great revolt of the common people—and push on to
the things that followed it.

[Illustration: MICHAEL BAKOUNINE.]

Babeuf—“Gracchus” Babeuf, as he called himself—after serving part
of a term in prison for forgery, escaped, went to Paris in the heat
of the Revolution, and started _The Tribune of the People_, the
first Socialistic paper ever published. He was too incendiary even
for Robespierre, and was imprisoned in 1795. In prison he formed the
famous “Conspiracy of Babeuf,” which was to establish the Communistic
republic. For this conspiracy he and Darthé were beheaded May 24, 1797.

Etienne Cabet was a Socialist before the term was invented, but he
was a peaceful and honest one. He published, in 1842, his “Travels in
Icaria,” describing an ideal state. Like most political reformers, he
chose the United States as the best place to try his experiment upon.
It is a curious fact that there is not a nation in Europe, however
much of a failure it may have made of all those things that go to make
up rational liberty, which does not feel itself competent to tell us
just what we ought to do, instead of what we are doing. Cabet secured
a grant of land on the Red River in Texas just after the Mexican War,
and a colony of Icarians came out. They took the yellow fever and were
dispersed before Cabet came with the second part of the colony. About
this time the Mormons left Nauvoo in Illinois, and the Icarians came to
take their places. The colony has since established itself at Grinnell,
Iowa, and a branch is at San Bernardino, California. The Nauvoo
settlement has, I believe, been abandoned.

Babeuf and Cabet prepared the way for Saint Simon. He was a count,
and a lineal descendant of Charlemagne. He fought in our War of the
Revolution under Washington, and passed its concluding years in a
British prison. He preached nearly the modern Socialism,—the revolt of
the proletariat against property,—and his work has indelibly impressed
itself upon the whole movement in France.

Charles Fourier, born in 1772, was the son of a grocer in Besançon, and
he was a man who exercised great influence upon the movement among the
French. He was rather a dreamer than a man of action, and, although
attempts have been made to carry his familistère into practice, there
is no conspicuous success to record, save, perhaps, that of the
familistère at Guise, in France, which has been conducted for a long
time on the principles laid down by Fourier.

[Illustration: PIERRE JOSEPH PROUDHON.]

All these men had before them concrete schemes for a new society in
which the evils of the present system would be avoided by what they
considered a more equable division of wealth, and each made the effort
to carry his scheme from theory into practice, so that the world might
see the success and imitate it. Following them came the men who held
that, before the new society can be formed, the old society must be got
rid of—the men who see but one way towards Socialism, and that through
Anarchy.

Louis Blanc was the first of these, although he would not have
described himself as an Anarchist, nor would it be fair to call him
one. He represented the transition stage. He attempted political
reforms of a most sweeping character during the revolution of 1848. The
government of the day established “national work-shops” as a concession
to him. Of these more is said hereafter.

Pierre Joseph Proudhon, born in Besançon July 15, 1809, is really
the father of French Anarchy. His great work, “What Is Property?”
was published in 1840, and he declared that property was theft and
property-holders thieves. It is to this epoch-making work that the
whole school of modern Anarchy, in any of its departments, may
be traced. Proudhon was fired by an actual hatred of the rich. He
describes a proprietor as “essentially a libidinous animal, without
virtue and without shame.” The importance of his work is shown by the
effect it has had even upon orthodox political economy, while on the
other side it has been the inspiration of Karl Marx. Proudhon died in
Passy in 1865.

Since his time until within the last year or two, French Socialism has
been but a reflex of the German school. It has produced no first-rates,
and has been content to take its doctrine from Lassalle. Karl Marx and
Engels, the leaders of the German movement, and Bakounine and Prince
Krapotkin, the Russian terrorists, have impressed their ideas deeply
upon the French discontented ones. The revolt of the Commune of Paris
after the Franco-German war was not exactly an Anarchist uprising,
although the Anarchists impressed their ideas upon much of the work
done. The Commune of Paris means very much the same as “the people
of Illinois.” It is the legal designation of the commonwealth, and
does not imply Communism any more than the word commonwealth does. It
was a fight for the autonomy of Paris, and one in which many people
were engaged who had no sympathy with Anarchy, although certainly the
lawless element finally obtained complete control of the situation. The
rising in Lyons several years later was distinctly and wholly anarchic,
and it was for this that Prince Krapotkin and others were sent to
prison.

At the present day there is no practical distinction between Socialism
and Anarchy in France. All Socialists are Anarchists as a first step,
although all Anarchists are not precisely Socialists. They look to the
Russian Nihilists and the German irreconcilables as their leaders.

German Socialism is really the doctrine which is now taught all over
the world, and it was this teaching that led directly to the Haymarket
massacre in Chicago. It began with Karl Rodbertus, who lived from 1805
to 1875. He first became prominent in Germany in 1848, and he was for
some time Minister of Education and Public Worship in Prussia. He was
a theorist rather than a practical reformer, but competent critics
assign to him the very highest rank as a political economist. His first
work was “Our Economic Condition,” which was published in 1843, and
his other books, which he published up to within a short time of his
death, were simply elucidations of the principles he had first laid
down. His writings have had a greater effect on modern Socialism than
those of any other thinker, not even excepting Karl Marx or Lassalle.
His theories were brought to a practical issue by Marx, who united into
a compact whole the teachings of Proudhon and of Rodbertus, his own
genius giving a new luster and a new value to the result. Marx is far
and away the greatest man that the Socialism of the nineteenth century
has produced. He was a deep student, a man of most formidable mental
power, eloquent, persuasive, and honest. His great book, “Capital,”
has been called the Socialist’s Bible. Ely places it in the very first
rank, saying of it that it is “among the ablest political economic
treatises ever written.” And while the best scientific thought of the
age agrees that Marx was mistaken in his premises and his fundamental
propositions, there is accorded to him upon every hand the tribute
which profound learning pays to hard work and deep thinking.

Coming from theory to practice brings us naturally from Marx to the
International Society. It was founded in London in 1864 and was meant
to include the whole of the labor class of Christendom. Marx was the
chief, but he held the sovereignty uneasily. The Anarchists constantly
antagonized him. Bakounine, the apostle of dynamite, opposed Marx
at every point, and finally Marx had him expelled from the society.
Bakounine thereupon formed a new Internationale, based upon anarchic
principles and the gospel of force. The Internationale of which Marx
was the founder has shrunk to a mere name, although the organization
is still kept up, and the body with which the civilized world has now
to reckon is that which Bakounine formed after his expulsion from the
old body in 1872. It is a curious fact that many of the Socialists in
Chicago to-day are enthusiastic admirers of Marx and at the same time
members of the society and followers of the man Marx declared to be the
most dangerous enemy of the modern workingman.

Marx is dead, however; many things are said in his name of which
he himself would never have approved, and the “Red Internationale”
proclaims the man a saint who refused either to indorse its principles
or to consult with its leaders. It is the same as though, twenty years
hence, the men who last year followed Barry out of the Knights of Labor
were to hold up Powderly to the world as their law-giver and their
chief.

Louise Michel, who was a very active worker in the radical cause
during the outbreak of the Paris Commune, was born in 1830, and first
attracted attention by verses full of force which she published very
early in life. She was sentenced in 1871 to deportation for life,
and was transported with others to New Caledonia. At the time of the
general amnesty, in 1880, she returned to Paris, and became editor of
_La Révolution Sociale_.

Ferdinand Lassalle, like Marx of Hebrew blood, and of early
aristocratic prejudices, was the father of German Anarchy as it exists
to-day. He was a deep student, and a remarkably able man. He took his
inspiration from Rodbertus and from Marx, but applied himself more to
work among the poor. Marx was over the heads of the common people. His
“Capital” is very hard reading. Lassalle popularized its teachings.
On May 23, 1863, a few men met at Leipsic under the leadership of
Lassalle and formed the “Universal German Laborers’ Union.” This was
the foundation of Social Democracy, and its teachings were wholly
anarchic. It aimed at the subversion of the whole German social
system, by peaceful political means at first, but soon by force.

Lassalle was shortly afterwards killed in a duel over a love-affair,
but he was canonized by the German Social Democrats as though his death
were a martyrdom. Even Bismarck in the Reichstag paid a tribute to his
memory. Lassalle died just about the time that a change was occurring
in his convictions, and had he lived longer, and if contemporary
history is to be believed, he would have taken office under the German
Government and applied himself heartily to the building up of the
Empire.

[Illustration: LOUISE MICHEL.]

After Lassalle’s death the movement which he had initiated went
forward with increased force. The German laborer was finally, as the
Internationalists put it, aroused. The German Empire, following the
example of the Bund, decreed universal suffrage in 1871. Before this,
in Prussia especially, the laborer had but the smallest political
influence. The vote of a man in the wealthiest class in Berlin counted
for as much as the vote of fifteen of the “proletariat,” so called.
Lassalle died in 1864, and suffrage was first granted in 1867. The
Social Democrats at first were in close accord with Bismarck. It was
the Social Democratic vote which elected Bismarck to the Reichstag in
the first election after the suffrage was granted. In the fall of 1867
they sent eight members to the parliament of the Bund. In the elections
after the formation of the Empire the Socialistic vote stood: In 1871,
123,975; in 1874, 351,952; in 1877, 493,288; in 1878, 437,158. The
Social Democrats poll nearly 10 per cent of the whole vote of Germany
at the present time.

In 1878 occurred the two attempts on the life of the Emperor of Germany
described in a succeeding chapter, and the result was severe repressive
measures against the Social Democrats. Their vote fell off, and their
influence declined, but in the past two years, 1887 and 1888, they have
more than recovered their past strength, and they now poll more votes
and seem to exercise a greater political control in Germany than ever
before.

[Illustration: FERDINAND LASSALLE.]

The passage of the “Ausnahmsgesetz,” the exceptional law against
German Socialists, drove many of them to this country, but had no
effect in diminishing the propaganda in Germany. The result was an
exodus of Socialists, or rather Anarchists, to America—by this time
the two terms, wide apart as they may seem, had become one—and
to Chicago came most of the irreconcilable ones. The American
sympathizers, thus formed, at first fixed their attention upon the
political situation in the old country, and they applied themselves
closely to work in connection with the agitators who had not
expatriated themselves. Money was sent in large quantities to the old
country.

In Germany, in the meantime, the movement varied and shifted with
each wind of doctrine; one president after another was tried and
found wanting, until at last Jean von Schweitzer was chosen, and he
guided the party until it was finally swallowed up in the organization
perfected by Liebknecht and Bebel. Liebknecht was really but an
interpreter of Marx, but he was honest, enthusiastic and devoted, and
no man in the whole line of German political energy has left his name
more thoroughly impressed upon the time. Out of these conditions and
born of these ideas came the Anarchy which hurled the bomb whose crash
at the Haymarket Square first aroused us to the work which is being
done in our midst.

The Anarchists of Chicago are exotics. Discontent here is a German
plant transferred from Berlin and Leipsic and thriving to flourish in
the west. In our garden it is a weed to be plucked out by the roots
and destroyed, for our conditions neither warrant its growth nor
excuse its existence.

The central idea of all Socialistic and Anarchic systems is the
interference with the right of property by society. If we can convince
ourselves that society has the right and the duty thus to interfere,
then there is to be said nothing more. As long as the American citizen
can buy his own land and raise his own crops, as long as average
industry and economy will lead a man to competence, Socialism can only
be like typhus fever—a growth of the city slums. There is no real
danger in it. There is no peril which those charged with the protection
of law and order are not ready to face, for every officer of the law
that unreasonable discontent may menace is backed by the whole power of
the republic; and the republic is founded upon principles which this
alien revolt can neither harm nor affright.

There is a fact which, before I leave this chapter, I wish to bring
home to the mind of every reader, and that is this:

The police of Chicago, like the police of every city in the Union, are
actuated by no feeling of hostility to these people. We understand the
genesis of their movement; we can put ourselves in their places and
feel the things which actuate them; we are prepared to make as many
excuses for them as they can make for themselves; we are ready to grant
everything that they could claim, and more; but we see beyond this, and
above this, facts which they forget and forego.

We have a government in these United States so firm and so elastic that
it has every bulwark against either foreign or domestic attack, and
yet it provides every opportunity to adjust itself to the will of the
people.

The majority must rule, and does rule; but under our Constitution
it rules only along lines decreed by the fathers long ago for the
protection of the minority. There is a legal and constitutional means
provided for every man to carry his theories of good government into
actual practice. Every citizen has the right to vote, and to have his
vote counted, and this right belongs to Anarchist and conservative,
to radical and reactionist. There is no man can stand before the
American people and say we have refused him his right: if it were
done, the whole power of the Government would be marshaled to do
him justice. When, then, we have provided every man with a means to
impress his convictions upon the government of the country—when we
have done everything that human ingenuity can do to secure a full and
free expression of the popular will, as the final and supreme test
upon every public question, we may be excused for refusing to let the
Anarchists have their way. They are a minority of a minority, yet
they would impose their system and their doctrine upon the majority.
They would substitute for the ballot-box the dynamite bomb—for the
will of the people the will of a contemptible rabble of discontents,
un-American in birth, training, education and idea, few in numbers and
ridiculous in power.

Thus, while the police entertain no animosity against these men, we
feel—I feel and every officer under my command feels—that we are
bound by our oaths and by our loyalty to the State and to society
to meet force with force, and cunning with cunning. We are the
conservators of the law and the preservers of the peace, and the law
will be vindicated and the peace preserved in spite of any and all
attacks.

If our system is wrong, which I do not believe; if the principle that
the majority of the citizens is to be ruled by an alien minority is
to be accepted, which I do not accept, still there is the orderly and
well-protected means provided by law, and guaranteed by the Government,
to transform that idea into a governing fact. There is the ballot,
free to every citizen, safe, satisfying, final. The men who try
other methods are rushing to their own destruction. We pity them, we
sympathize with them; but our duty is clear and manifest. We have a
government worth fighting for, and even worth dying for, and the police
feel that truth as keenly as any class in the community.



CHAPTER II.

 Dynamite in Politics-Historical Assassinations—Infernal
 Machines in France—The Inventor of Dynamite—M. Nobel and his
 Ideas—The Nitro-Compounds—How Dynamite is Made—The New French
 Explosive—“Black Jelly” and the Nihilists—What the Nihilists Believe
 and What they Want—The Conditions in Russia—The White and the Red
 Terrors—Vera Sassoulitch—Tourgeneff and the Russian Girl—The
 Assassination of the Czar—“It is too Soon to Thank God”—The Dying
 Emperor—Two Bombs Thrown—Running Down The Conspirators—Sophia
 Perowskaja, the Nihilist Leader—The Handkerchief Signal—The Murder
 Roll—Tried and Convicted—A Brutal Execution—Five Nihilists Pay
 the Penalty—Last Words Spoken but Unheard—A Deafening Tattoo—The
 Book-bomb and the Present Czar—Strychnine-coated Bullets—St.
 Peter and Paul’s Fortress—Dynamite Outrages in England—The Record
 of Crime—Twenty-nine Convicts and their Offenses—Ingenious
 Bomb-making—The Failures of Dynamite.


THE attempt to gain political ends by an appeal to infernal machines
is not a new one. It is as old as gunpowder—and the evangel of
assassination is older still. Murder was the recognized political
weapon of the Eastern and Western Empires, and the Chicago Anarchists
have proved themselves neither better nor worse than the “old man of
the mountain” or the Italian princes of the middle ages. During the
reign of Mary Queen of Scots the mysterious explosion occurred in the
Kirk of Feld in which Darnley lost his life. Somewhat later was the
“gunpowder plot,” in which Guy Fawkes and his fellow conspirators tried
to blow up the Houses of Parliament. The petard and the hand-grenade
were the grandfather and the grandmother of the modern bomb, and
murderous invention came to its new phase in the infernal machine which
Ceruchi, the Italian sculptor, contrived to kill Napoleon when First
Consul—a catastrophe which was avoided by the fact that Napoleon’s
coachman was drunk and took the wrong turn in going to the opera-house.

France was fertile in this sort of machinery. Some years later Fieschi,
Morey and Pepin tried to kill Louis Philippe with a similar apparatus
on the Boulevard de Temple. The King escaped, but the brave Marshal
Mortier was slain. Orsini and Pieri made a bomb, round and bristling
with nippers, each of which was charged with fulminate of mercury, to
explode the powder within, meaning to assassinate the Emperor Napoleon
and the Empress Eugenie.

In the year 1866, according to the most trustworthy authorities,
dynamite was first made by Alfred Nobel. In speaking of the invention,
Adolf Houssaye, the French litterateur, recently said:

 It should be remembered that nine-tenths, probably, of the dynamite
 made is used in peaceful pursuits; in mining, and similar works.
 Indeed, since its invention great engineering achievements have been
 accomplished which would have been entirely impossible without it. I
 do not see, then, much room for doubt that it has on the whole been
 a great blessing to humanity. Such certainly its inventor regards
 it. “If I did not look upon it as such,” I heard him say recently, “I
 should close up all my manufactories and not make another ounce of the
 stuff.” He is a strong advocate of peace, and regards with the utmost
 horror the use of dynamite by assassins and political conspirators.
 When the news of the Haymarket tragedy in Chicago reached him, M.
 Nobel was in Paris, and I well remember his expressions of horror and
 detestation at the cowardly crime.

 “Look you,” he exclaimed. “I am a man of peace. But when I see these
 miscreants misusing my invention, do you know how it makes me feel? It
 makes me feel like gathering the whole crowd of them into a storehouse
 full of dynamite and blowing them all up together!”

Few people know what dynamite is, though it has attracted a good deal
of attention of late, and before considering its use as a mode for
political murder it may be well here to give an account of its making.

Nitro-glycerine, although not the strongest explosive known to
science, is the only one of any industrial importance, as the others
are too dangerous for manufacture. It was discovered by Salvero, an
Italian chemist, in 1845. It is composed of glycerine and nitric
acid compounded together in a certain proportion, and at a certain
temperature. It is very unsafe to handle, and to this reason is to
be ascribed the invention of dynamite, which is, after all, merely
a sort of earth and nitro-glycerine, the use of the earth being to
hold the explosive safely as a piece of blotting-paper would hold
water until it was needed. Nobel first tried kieselguhr, or flint
froth, which was ground to a powder, heated thoroughly and dried,
and the nitro-glycerine was kneaded into it like so much dough. Of
course, many other substances are now used, besides infusorial earth,
as vehicles for the explosive—saw-dust, rotten-stone, charcoal,
plaster of Paris, black powder, etc., etc. These are all forms of
dynamite or giant powder, and mean the same thing. When the substance
is thoroughly kneaded, work that must be done with the hands, it is
molded into sticks somewhat like big candles, and wrapped in parchment
paper. Nitro-glycerine has a sweet, aromatic, pungent taste, and the
peculiar property of causing a violent headache when placed on the
tongue or the wrist. It freezes at 40° Fahrenheit, and must be melted
by the application of water at a temperature of 100°. In dynamite
the usual proportions are 25 per cent. of earth and 75 per cent. of
nitro-glycerine. The explosive is fired by fulminate of silver or
mercury in copper caps.

Outside of the French arsenals it is to be doubted if anybody knows
anything more about the new explosive, melinite, further than that
it is one of the compounds of picric acid—and picric acid is a more
frightful explosive than nitro-glycerine. I find in my scrap-book the
following excerpt from the London _Standard_, describing the artillery
experiments at Lydd with the new explosive which the British Admiralty
has lately been examining. The _Standard_, after declaring that the
experiments are “entirely satisfactory,” says:

 The character of the compound employed is said to be “akin to
 melinite,” but its precise nature is not divulged. We have reason
 to believe that the “kinship” is very close. The details of the
 experiments which have lately been conducted at Lydd are known to
 very few individuals. But it is unquestionable that the results were
 such as demonstrate the enormous advantage to be gained by using a
 more powerful class of explosives than that which has been hitherto
 employed. There could be no mistake as to the destructive energy of
 the projectiles. Neither was there any mishap in the use of these
 terrible appliances. The like immunity was enjoyed at Portsmouth. A
 deterrent to the adoption of violent explosives for war purposes has
 consisted in the risk of premature explosion. But there is still the
 consideration that the advantage to be gained far exceeds the risk
 which has to be incurred. France has not neglected this question, and
 she is ahead of us. Her chosen explosive is melinite, and with this
 she has armed herself to an extent of which the British public has
 no conception. All the requisite materials, in the shape of steel
 projectiles and the melinite for filling them, have been provided for
 the French service and distributed so as to furnish a complete supply
 for the army and the navy. Whatever may be said as to the danger which
 besets the use of melinite, the French authorities are confident
 that they have mastered the problem of making this powerful compound
 subservient to the purposes of war. Concerning the composition of
 this explosive great secrecy is observed by the French Government, as
 also with regard to the experiments that are made with it. But Col.
 Majendie states that melinite is largely composed of picric acid in
 a fused or consolidated condition. Of the violence with which picric
 acid will explode, an example was given on the occasion of a fire at
 some chemical works near Manchester a year ago. The shock was felt
 over a distance of two miles from the seat of the explosion, and the
 sound was heard for a distance of twenty miles.

 The conduct of the French in committing themselves so absolutely to
 the use of melinite as a _material_ of war clearly signifies that
 with them the use of such a substance has passed out of the region of
 doubt and experiment. Their experimental investigations extended over
 a considerable period of time, but at last the stage of inquiry gave
 place to one of confidence and assurance. So great is the confidence
 of the French Government in the new shell that it is said the French
 forts are henceforth to be protected by a composite material better
 adapted than iron or steel to resist the force of a projectile charged
 with a high explosive. In naval warfare the value of shells charged
 in this manner is likely to be more especially shown in connection
 with the rapid-fire guns which are now coming into use. The question
 is whether the ponderous _staccato_ fire of monster ordnance may not
 be largely superseded by another mode of attack, in which a storm of
 shells, charged with something far more potent than gunpowder, will be
 poured forth in a constant stream from numerous guns of comparatively
 small weight and caliber.

 Combined with rapidity of fire, these shells cannot but prove
 formidable to an armor-clad, independently of any damage inflicted
 on the plates. The great thickness now given to ship armor is
 accomplished by a mode of concentration which, while affecting to
 shield the vital parts, leaves a large portion of the ship entirely
 unprotected. On the unarmored portion a tremendous effect will be
 produced by the quick-firing guns dashing their powerful shells in a
 fiery deluge on the ship.

 Altogether the new force which is now entering into the composition of
 artillery is one which demands the attention of the British Government
 in the form of prompt and vigorous action. While we are experimenting,
 others are arming.

Dynamite, however, is the weapon with which the “revolution” has armed
itself for its assault upon society. A terrible arm truly, but one
difficult to handle, dangerous to hold, and certainly no stronger in
their hands than in ours, if it should ever become necessary to use it
in defense of law and order.

A number of Russian chemists, members of the Nihilist party, were
the first to apply dynamite to the work of murder. It is to their
researches that is to be credited the invention of the “black jelly,”
so called, of which so much was expected, and by which so little was
done.

Nihilist activity in Russia commenced almost as soon as the emancipated
peasantry began to be in condition for the evangel of discontent.
It was Tourgeneff, the novelist, who baptized the movement with its
name of Nihilism—and the truth is that it is a movement rather than
an organization. It is a loose, uncentralized, uncodified society,
secret by necessity and murderous by belief; but it is a secret society
without grips or passwords, without a purpose save indiscriminate
destruction, and its very formlessness and vagueness have been its
chief protection from the Russian police, who are, perhaps, after all
is said and done, the best police in the world. A statement of Nihilism
by that very famous Nihilist who is known as Stepniak, but who is
suspected to be entitled to a much more illustrious name, runs thus:

 By our general conviction we are Socialists and democrats. We are
 convinced that on Socialistic grounds humanity can become the
 embodiment of freedom, equality and fraternity, while it secures for
 itself a general prosperity, a harmonious development of man and his
 social progress. We are convinced, moreover, that only the will of
 the people should give sanction to any social institution, and that
 the development of the nation is sound only when free and independent
 and when every idea in practical use shall have previously passed the
 test of national consideration and of the national will. We further
 think that as Socialists and democrats we must first recognize an
 immediate purpose to liberate the nation from its present state of
 oppression by creating a political revolution. We would thus transfer
 the supreme power into the hands of the people. We think that the will
 of the nation should be expressed with perfect clearness, and best, by
 a National Assembly freely elected by the votes of all the citizens,
 the representatives to be carefully instructed by their constituents.
 We do not consider this as the ideal form of expressing the people’s
 will, but as the most acceptable form to be realized in practice.
 Submitting ourselves to the will of the nation, we, as a party,
 feel bound to appear before our own country with our own programme
 or platform, which we shall propagate even before the revolution,
 recommend to the electors during electoral periods, and afterwards
 defend in the National Assembly.

The Nihilist programme in Russia has been officially formulated thus:

 _First_—The permanent Representative Assembly to have supreme control
 and direction in all general state questions.

 _Second_—In the provinces, self-government to a large extent; to
 secure it, all public functionaries to be elected.

 _Third_—To secure the independence of the Village Commune (“Mir”) as
 an economical and administrative unit.

 _Fourth_—All the land to be proclaimed national property.

 _Fifth_—A series of measures preparatory to a final transfer of
 ownership in manufactures to the workmen.

 _Sixth_—Perfect liberty of conscience, of the press, speech,
 meetings, associations and electoral agitation.

 _Seventh_—The right to vote to be extended to all citizens of legal
 age, without class or property restrictions.

 _Eighth_—Abolition of the standing army; the army to be replaced by a
 territorial militia.

It must be remembered that the conditions in Russia are peculiar. The
country is ruled by an autocracy; government is not by the people,
but by “divine right.” The conditions which the English-speaking
people ended at Runnymede still exist in Muscovy. There is neither
free speech, free assembly, nor a free press, and naturally discontent
vents itself in revolt. There is no safety-valve. Russia is full of
generous, high-minded young men and women, who find their church
dead, and their state a cruel despotism. They find themselves face to
face with the White Terror, and they have sought in the Red Terror a
relief. Flying at last from the hopeless contest, they have carried
the hate of government born of bad ruling into Western Europe, and it
is the infection of this poison that we have to deal with here. The
average Russian Nihilist is a young man or a young woman—very often
the latter—who, by the contemplation of real wrongs and fallacious
remedies, has come to be the implacable enemy of all order and all
system. Usually they are half-educated, with just that superficial
smattering of knowledge to make them conceited in their own opinions,
but without enough real learning to make them either impartial critics
or safe citizens of non-Russian countries. We can pity them, for it is
easy to see how step by step they have been pushed into revolt. But
they are dangerous.

When one reads such a case as that which gave Vera Sassoulitch her
notoriety, it is easier to understand Russia. General Trepoff, the
Chief of Police of St. Petersburg, had arrested Vera’s lover on
suspicion of high treason. The young man was by Trepoff’s order
frequently flogged to make him confess his crime. Sassoulitch called
on Trepoff and shot him. She was tried by a St. Petersburg jury and
acquitted. Immediately a law was declared that no case of political
crime should be tried by a jury, except when the Government had
selected it. The arrest of the woman was ordered that she might be
tried again under the new regulation, but in the meantime her friends
had spirited her away.

A very similar crime was that attempted by another Nihilist heroine,
Maria Kaliouchnaia, who attempted to kill Col. Katauski for his
severity to her brother. In the assassination of the Czar, as I shall
relate, a number of women were concerned, and their bravery was greatly
more desperate than that of their male companions. The Russian woman
is peculiar. I know no better picture of the “devoted ones” than that
given in Tourgeneff’s “Verses in Prose”:

 I see a huge building with a narrow door in its front wall; the door
 is open, and a dismal darkness stretches beyond. Before the high
 threshold stands a girl—a Russian girl. Frost breathes out of the
 impenetrable darkness, and with the icy draught from the depths of the
 building there comes forth a slow and hollow voice:

 “Oh, thou who art wanting to cross this threshold, dost thou know what
 awaits thee?”

 “I know it,” answers the girl.

 “Cold, hunger, hatred, derision, contempt, insults, a fearful death
 even.”

 “I know it.”

 “Complete isolation and separation from all?”

 “I know it. I am ready. I will bear all sorrows and miseries.”

 “Not only if inflicted by enemies, but when done by kindred and
 friends?”

 “Yes, even when done by them.”

 “Well, are you ready for self-sacrifice?”

 “Yes!”

 “For anonymous self-sacrifice? You shall die, and nobody shall know
 even whose memory is to be honored?”

 “I want neither gratitude nor pity. I want no name.”

 “Are you ready for a crime?”

 The girl bent her head. “I am ready—even for a crime.”

 The voice paused awhile before renewing its interrogatories. Then
 again: “Dost thou know,” it said at last, “that thou mayest lose thy
 faith in what thou now believest; that thou mayest feel that thou hast
 been mistaken and hast lost thy young life in vain?”

 “I know that also, and nevertheless I will enter!”

 “Enter, then!”

 The girl crossed the threshold, and a heavy curtain fell behind her.

 “A fool!” gnashed some one outside.

 “A saint!” answered a voice from somewhere.

With such material it was not difficult to build up the tragedy of
1881. Before the day of the Czar’s death came, there had been desperate
attempts upon his life. Prince Krapotkin, a relative of the Nihilist
of the same name, was murdered in February, 1879, and following this
deed the terrorists applied themselves resolutely to the removal of the
Emperor.

[Illustration: EXCAVATED DYNAMITE MINE IN MOSCOW.]

For instance, in November, 1879, was the mine laid at Moscow. It was
intended to blow up the railway train upon which the Czar was to enter
the city, and for this purpose Solovieff and his comrades laid three
dynamite mines under the tracks. Hartmann, who subsequently figured in
the assassination, was one of the leaders, and here, too, was Sophie
Peroosky, another of the regicides. They hired a house near the railway
tracks and tunneled under the road amidst incredible difficulties and
always in the most imminent danger. One hundred and twenty pounds of
dynamite was in position, but the Czar passed by in a common train
before the imperial one on which he was expected, and his life was
saved. On February 5, 1880, the mine under the Winter Palace was
exploded; eleven persons were killed, but again the Czar escaped.

For some time before March 13, 1881, Gen. Count Loris Melikoff, the
officer responsible for the safety of Czar Alexander II., had received
disquieting reports which gave him the greatest anxiety. On the 10th
of the month Jelaboff, the ringleader of the conspiracy, was arrested
by accident, and the direction of the attempt on the Czar’s life was
accordingly left to Sophie Perowskaja, a young, pretty and highly
educated noblewoman, who had left everything to join the Nihilists. It
is said that on the morning of the 13th Melikoff begged the Czar to
forego his purpose of reviewing the Marine Corps, and keep within the
palace. The Emperor laughed at him, and declared there was no danger.
There was no incident until after the review. As the Emperor drove back
beside the Ekaterinofsky Canal, just opposite the imperial stables, a
young woman on the other side of the canal fluttered a handkerchief,
and immediately a man started out from the crowd that was watching the
passing of the Czar, and threw a bomb under the closed carriage. There
was a roaring explosion, a cloud of smoke. The rear of the vehicle was
blown away, and the horror-stricken multitude saw the Czar standing
unhurt, staring about him. On the ground were several members of the
Life Guard, groaning and writhing in pain. The assassin had pulled
out a revolver to complete his work, but he was at once mobbed by
the people. Col. Dvorjitsky and Captains Kock and Kulebiekan, of the
guards, rushed up to their master and asked him if he was hurt.

“Thank God! no,” said the Czar. “Come, let us look after the wounded.”

And he started toward one of the Cossacks.

“It is too soon to thank God yet, Alexander Nicolaivitch,” said a
clear, threatening voice in the crowd, and before any one could stop
him, a young man bounded forward, lifted up both arms above his head,
and brought them down with a swing. There was a crash of dynamite,
a blaze, a smoke, and the autocrat of all the Russias was lying on
the bloody snow, with his murderer also dying in front of him. Col.
Dvorjitsky lifted up the Czar, who whispered:

“I am cold, my friend, so cold,—take me to the Winter Palace to die.”

The desperate Nihilist had thrown his bomb right between the Czar’s
feet, and had sacrificed his own life to kill the Emperor.

Alexander was shockingly mutilated. Both of his legs were broken,
and the lower part of his body was frightfully torn and mangled. The
assassin—his name was Nicholas Elnikoff, of Wilna—was even more badly
hurt. He died at once.

[Illustration: “IT IS TOO SOON TO THANK GOD!” THE ASSASSINATION OF CZAR
ALEXANDER II.]

The Czar was taken into an open sled, and although it was claimed he
received the last sacrament at the Winter Palace, most of those who
know believe that he died on the way there.

In the meantime the police, with the utmost difficulty, rescued the
first bomb-thrower from the maddened mob. The man, whose name proved to
be Risakoff, coolly thanked the officers for preserving him, and then
tried to swallow some poison which he had ready. In this he was foiled,
and he was taken to prison.

[Illustration: THE CZAR’S CARRIAGE AFTER THE EXPLOSION.

From a Photograph.]

The infernal machine used by Elnikoff was about 7½ inches in height,
and its construction is exemplified in the annexed diagram. Metal tubes
(_b b_) filled with chlorate of potash, and enclosing glass tubes
(_c c_) filled with sulphuric acid (commonly called oil of vitriol),
intersect the cylinder. Around the glass tubes are rings of iron (_d
d_) closely attached as weights. The construction is such that, no
matter how the bomb falls, one of the glass tubes is sure to break. The
chlorate of potash in that case, combining with the sulphuric acid,
ignites at once, and the flames communicate over the fuse (_f f_) with
the piston (_e_), filled with fulminate of silver. The concussion thus
caused explodes the dynamite or “black jelly” (_a_) with which the
cylinder is closely packed.

[Illustration]

I said above that Jelaboff, the real leader of the conspiracy, had been
arrested on the 10th. He was merely a suspect, and it was some time
before the police realized what an important arrest had been made.
Only two hours before the murder of the Emperor, Jelaboff’s house was
searched, and there was found a great quantity of black dynamite,
India rubber tubes, fuses and other articles. Jelaboff had been living
here with a woman who was called Lidia Voinoff. This Lidia Voinoff was
arrested on the Newsky Prospect, on March 22nd, and almost immediately
identified as Sophia Perowskaja, the young woman who had given the
handkerchief signal to the bomb-throwers, and who was wanted besides
for the Moscow railway mine case. On the prisoner were found papers
which led to the search of a house on Telejewskaia Street, where a
man named Sablin committed suicide immediately on the appearance of
the police, and a woman named Hessy Helfmann was arrested. A regular
Nihilist arsenal of black jelly, fuses, maps of different districts of
St. Petersburg, with the Czar’s usual routes marked upon them, copies
of papers from the secret press, etc., were found. While the police
were still engaged in the search of the premises Timothy Mikhaeloff
came in by accident. He was taken, and on him was found a copy of the
new Czar’s proclamation, and penciled on the back were the names of
three shops with three different hours in the afternoon. The officers
descended on these places and gathered in customers, shop-keepers and
everybody else about the place,—a process which brought in Kibaltchik,
the Nihilist chemist and bomb-maker.

The evidence was soon got in shape, and early in April the trial
began. It was shown that Jelaboff was agent in the third degree of
the Revolutionary Executive Committee; that he had issued the call
for volunteers for the killing of the Czar, and that forty-seven
persons had offered themselves, out of whom Risakoff, Mikhaeloff,
Hessy Helfmann, Kibaltchik, Sophia Perowskaja and Elnikoff had been
accepted. Elnikoff was dead, but the others, with Jelaboff, were put
in the dock. They all confessed except Hessy Helfmann, and upon April
11th all were condemned to death, with the proviso needed under the
Russian law that the sentence of Sophia Perowskaja should be approved
by the Czar, as she was a member of the class of nobles, and a noble
may not be put to death without the Emperor’s concurrence. The Czar
concurred, and on April 15th, at 9 a. m., all the prisoners save
Hessy Helfmann were hung. This woman was reprieved because she was
about to become a mother. The execution was a most brutal one. It
took place on a plain two miles out of the city, in the presence of a
hundred thousand people. The prisoners were taken out of the fortress
on two-wheeled carts, surrounded by drummers and pipers, who played
continuously and loudly, so that nothing the condemned might say could
be heard by the crowd. At the scaffold the drummers were stationed in
a hollow square around the gallows, and a deafening tattoo was kept up
from the time the prisoners were brought in until their bodies were
cut down. The hanging was very cruel. Each person was mounted on a
small box, after kissing each other passionately all round. They said
something, but it could not be heard for the drumming. The executioner
was said to be evidently drunk. There was no drop. When the signal was
given the condemned were pushed off their boxes and left to strangle.
Mikhaeloff’s rope broke twice, and the attendants held him up while
the executioner tied a new cord around his neck and over the beam. The
bodies were buried privately.

The present Czar has had several narrow escapes, none of them more
nearly fatal than the conspiracy of the book-bomb in March last. On the
13th of March, 1888, the anniversary of his father’s terrible death,
the Czar made the usual visit to the Cathedral of St. Peter and Paul,
where the body of Alexander II. is buried. For some time before the
ceremony St. Petersburg was full of rumors that a catastrophe was
impending, and, although the police took the most careful precautions,
the Czar himself paid no attention to the warnings of the “Third
Section,” and would permit no alteration in the preparations for the
requiem.

In Christmas week of 1887, the Russian agents at Geneva, in
Switzerland, reported the presence in that city of two revolutionary
agents who seemed to have the closest relations with the committee of
the discontents in London and Paris. They were shadowed for a time, but
lost. In February they reappeared in Berlin. They were known to be in
communication with the St. Petersburg Nihilists. Before facts enough
had accumulated to justify their arrest they disappeared once more
and were believed to have gone to the Russian capital. The facts were
reported to the Czar, but he laughed at Chief Gresser of the capital
police.

[Illustration: THE NIHILISTS IN THE DOCK.

1. Risakoff. 2. Mikhaeloff. 3. Hessy Helfmann. 4. Kibaltchik. 5. Sophia
Peroffskaja. 6. Jelaboff.]

In solemnizing the requiem of the late Czar a public progress was made
to the Cathedral, amid a dense throng of citizens, among whom were
all the detectives that Chief Gresser could get together. In a small
café in one of the side streets of the Morokaya two of the detectives
ran across a couple of uniformed university students—in Russia the
students have a peculiar costume—who were acting suspiciously. They
were conversing in a most excited manner with a man dressed as a
peasant. The trio were watched. At the café door they separated, but
all three made by different routes for the Newsky Prospect, the chief
drive of the capital and the one along which the Czar was to return.
The peasant was lost by the detectives, but the other two were kept in
sight, and the suspicions of the police were made all the more keen
by the fact that the young men passed each other in the crowd several
times with an elaborate appearance of not knowing each other. One of
them had a law-book in his hand; the other had a traveling-bag over his
shoulder.

[Illustration: EXECUTION OF THE NIHILIST CONSPIRATORS.]

A few moments before the Czar was to pass on his return from the
Cathedral the students came together and whispered, and the two
were immediately and quietly arrested. Their names were given as
Andreieffsky and Petroff, university students, and this was proven to
be the truth.

A thrilling discovery was made, however, at once. The innocent-looking
law-book was really a most dangerous infernal machine—sufficiently
powerful not alone to kill everybody in the Czar’s carriage, but many
in the crowd, and perhaps to have blown down some of the neighboring
houses. The traveling-sack was full of dynamite bombs of the ordinary
spherical pattern.

[Illustration: Fig. 1. Interior. Fig. 2. Exterior.

A. Glass Tube. B. Fulminate. C. Bullets. D. Dynamite.]

I reproduce here a diagram of the book-bomb from the excellent account
of the attempted assassination given by the New York _World_ a few days
after it occurred.

The outside was made of wood and pasteboard, so artistically that only
the closest inspection would discover the fact that the machine was
not really a book. In the center of the interior, in the place marked
_C_, were a number of hollow bullets filled with strychnine, which
poison was also plastered upon the outside of the missiles. Above this
were small compartments filled with fulminate, with a glass tube of
sulphuric acid. To the tube was tied a string, which would break it
when thrown, spilling it into the fulminate and thus exploding the
dynamite with which the whole of the hollow parts of the interior was
densely packed. Fully a hundred people must have been killed had the
bomb been exploded as intended. The expert who examined the bomb, after
handling the bullets carelessly put his finger in his mouth, and was
seriously, though not fatally, poisoned.

Hardly had the arrest been made when the Czar was notified at the
Cathedral. He ordered that the news should be withheld from the
Empress, although he was himself visibly affected. He sprang into his
sleigh with the Czarowitz, and drove by an unused route to the railway
station. The Czarina followed shortly after in a carriage, greatly
agitated by a presentiment of evil. Not until the train had started
was she informed of the occurrence. She burst into tears, and was
inconsolable for the rest of the journey. Once safe in his Gatschina
Palace, the Czar is said to have given vent to his feelings in the
strongest language, heaping anathemas upon the heads of the Nihilists,
and threatening dire revenge.

Less than two hours after the arrest of Andreieffsky and Petroff their
companion peasant fell into the hands of the police. His name was
Generaloff, a native of Jaroslav, South Russia. He had been actively
engaged in the Nihilist propaganda for some time past. He also carried
bombs on his person.

These arrests were supplemented by numerous others. The lodgings of
the prisoners in the suburbs of St. Petersburg known as the Peski
(the Sands) were searched, and other explosives as well as documents
incriminating other persons were found. As a result the procession
of prisoners to the Peter and Paul’s Fortress for a time was almost
unremitting, and no one felt safe against police intrusion. All three
of the prisoners were subsequently executed.

England shortly afterward became the mark for the next development of
the dynamite war. It is the fact that shortly after the assassination
of the Czar an attack on the British Government was begun.

Prior to this there had been two outrages in 1881—one an attempt to
blow up the barracks at Salford with dynamite, the other a gunpowder
explosion at the Mansion House, London.

The record of the year, as compiled by Col. Majendie, the Inspector of
Explosives, then runs on:

 _1881: 16 May._ Attempt to blow up the police barracks at Liverpool
 with gunpowder in iron piping. Damage to the building was
 inconsiderable, and no one hurt.

 _10 June._ Attempt to blow up the Town Hall, Liverpool, by an infernal
 machine probably filled with dynamite. A great number of windows
 broken, and some iron railings destroyed, but no one injured. The two
 perpetrators captured.

 _14 June._ A piece of iron piping filled with gunpowder exploded
 against the police station at Loanhead, near Edinburgh. Some windows
 broken, but no other damage effected.

 _30 June._ An importation of six infernal machines at Liverpool from
 America in the “Malta,” concealed in barrels of cement. They contained
 lignin dynamite, with a clock-work arrangement for firing it.

 _2 July._ An importation of four similar machines at Liverpool in the
 “Bavaria.”

 _September._ An attempt to produce an explosion at the barracks,
 Castlebar. A canister containing gunpowder was thrown over the wall,
 close to the magazine. The lighted fuse which was attached fell out,
 and no harm was done.

 _1882: 26 March._ An attempt to blow up Weston House, Galway, with
 dynamite in an iron pot enclosed in a sack. Five persons were
 afterwards convicted of the outrage.

 _27 March_. A 6-inch shell charged with explosive thrown into a house
 in Letterkenny. The explosion caused considerable damage.

 _2 April._ An attempt to destroy a police barrack in Limerick by
 firing some dynamite on the window sill.

 _12 May._ A discovery of a parcel containing 12 lbs. to 20 lbs. of
 gunpowder, with lighted touch-paper or fuse attached, at the Mansion
 House, London.

 _1883: 21 January._ An explosion of lignin dynamite at Possil Bridge,
 Glasgow. Two or three persons passing sustained slight injury.

 _21 January._ An explosion of lignin dynamite at Buchanan Street
 Station, Glasgow, in a disused goods shed.

 _15 March._ An explosion at the Local Government Board Office,
 Whitehall, causing considerable local damage.

 _15 March._ An abortive explosion of lignin dynamite outside a window
 at the _Times_ office.

 _April._ Two infernal machines, containing 28 lbs. of lignin dynamite
 (probably home-made), discovered at Liverpool. Four persons were
 convicted and sentenced to penal servitude for life.

 _April._ The discovery of a factory of nitro-glycerine at Birmingham,
 and of a large amount of nitro-glycerine brought thence to London.
 The occupier of the house and others were subsequently convicted and
 sentenced to penal servitude for life.

 _30 October._ An explosion in the Metropolitan Railway, between
 Charing Cross and Westminster, unattended with personal or serious
 structural injury.

 _30 October._ An explosion on the Metropolitan Railway, near Praed
 Street. Three carriages sustained serious injury, and about sixty-two
 persons were cut by the broken glass and debris, and otherwise injured.

 _November._ Two infernal machines discovered in a house in
 Westminster, occupied by a German named Woolf. Two men were tried, and
 in the result the jury disagreed and a _nolle prosequi_ was entered on
 behalf of the Crown.

 _1884: January._ The discovery of some slabs of Atlas Powder A
 (American make), in Primose Hill tunnel.

 _February._ An explosion in the cloak-room of the London, Brighton,
 and South Coast Railway at Victoria Station of Atlas Powder A
 (American make), left in a bag or portmanteau.

 _27 February._ The discovery of a bag containing some Atlas Powder A,
 with clock-work and detonators, at Charing Cross Station.

 _28 February._ A similar discovery at Paddington Station.

 _1 March._ A similar discovery at Ludgate Hill Station.

 _April._ A discovery of three metal bombs, containing dynamite
 (probably American make), at Birkenhead, in possession of a man named
 Daly, who was afterwards sentenced to penal servitude for life.

 _30 May._ An explosion of dynamite at the Junior Carlton Club, St.
 James’ Square. About fourteen persons were injured.

 _30 May._ An explosion of dynamite at the residence of Sir Watkin
 Williams Wynn, St. James’ Square.

 _30 May._ An explosion of dynamite in a urinal under a room occupied
 by some of the detective staff in Scotland Yard. It brought down a
 portion of the building, besides severely injuring a policeman and
 some persons who were at an adjacent public-house.

 _30 May._ A discovery of Atlas Powder A, with fuse and detonators, in
 Trafalgar Square.

 _28 November._ An attempted destruction of a house at Edenburn, near
 Tralee, occupied by Mr. Hussey. The injury, which was doubtless
 accomplished with dynamite, was less serious than was intended, and no
 one sustained bodily harm.

 _12 December._ An explosion of a charge of dynamite or other
 nitro-compound under London Bridge, fortunately doing very little
 damage.

 _1885: 2 January._ An explosion in the Gower Street tunnel of
 the Metropolitan Railway, caused by about two pounds of some
 nitro-compound fired apparently by a percussion fuse. Damage
 inconsiderable.

 _24 January._ An explosion in the Tower of London, caused, beyond
 all reasonable doubt, by about five to eight pounds of Atlas Powder
 A (American make). Three or four persons were slightly injured, and
 considerable damage was done to the Armory.

 _24 January._ An explosion of Atlas Powder A (American make), in
 Westminster Hall. Three persons were injured severely, and others
 slightly, and very considerable damage was done to the Hall and
 surroundings.

 _24 January._ An explosion in the House of Commons (probably caused by
 a similar amount of the same explosive). No persons were injured, but
 very considerable damage was done to the Houses of Parliament.

 _February._ A discovery of dynamite (of American make) in a house in
 Harrow Road, Paddington.

 _9 March._ A discovery of Atlas Powder A in the roof of a saw-mill at
 Bootle.

As a result of these various conspiracies and political outrages,
twenty-nine persons were convicted.

Some of the bombs used in the London explosions were very ingeniously
made. Usually they had a clock-work arrangement which released a hammer
and exploded the infernal machine at the time set. Others again had a
time fuse depending upon the percolation of acid through parchment.
In every case, however, the destruction wrought by the explosives was
ridiculously disappointing to the conspirators, and in England as
elsewhere the event proved that high explosives are a delusion and a
snare from the revolutionist’s point of view. They are greatly more
dangerous to the persons who employ them than to the people or the
property against which they may be aimed.



CHAPTER III.

 The Exodus to Chicago—Waiting for an Opportunity—A Political Party
 Formed—A Question of $600,000—The First Socialist Platform—Details
 of the Organization—Work at the Ballot-Box—Statistics of Socialist
 Progress—“The International Workingmen’s Party” and The “Workingmen’s
 Party of the United States”—The Eleven Commandments of Labor—How
 the Work was to be Done—A Curious Constitution—Beginnings of the
 Labor Press—The Union Congress—Criticising the Ballot-Box—The
 Executive Committee and its Powers—Annals of 1876—A Period of
 Preparation—The Great Railroad Strikes of 1877—The First Attack on
 Society—A Decisive Defeat—Trying Politics Again—The “Socialistic
 Party”—Its Leaders and its Aims—August Spies as an Editor—Buying
 the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_—How the Money was Raised—Anarchist Campaign
 Songs—The Group Organization—Plan of the Propaganda—Dynamite First
 Taught—“The Bureau of Information”—An Attack on Arbitration—No
 Compromise with Capital—Unity of the Internationalists and the
 Socialists.


AFTER the enactment of the stringent Socialist law in Germany, and the
determined opposition of Prince Bismarck to the creed of the Social
Democrats, the exodus to America began, and Chicago, unfortunately for
this city, was the Mecca to which the exiles came. At first but little
attention was paid to the incoming people. It was thought that free
air and free institutions would disarm them of their rancor against
organized society, and but little attention was paid to the vaporings
of the leaders. We had heard that sort of thing before,—especially
in the years following 1848,—and it had come to nothing; and people
generally, when they heard the mouthings of the apostles of disorder,
told themselves that when these apostles had each bought a home, there
would come naturally, and out of the logic of facts, a change in their
convictions.

Hence, although there were some inflammatory speeches, and a pretense
of Socialistic activity, it was not until the year 1873 that any
serious attention was paid to the movement. Even then the interest it
excited was that solely of a political novelty.

The period was one of general business depression, however, and
additional impetus was given to the feelings of discontent by the
labor troubles in New York, Boston, St. Louis and other large cities.
In New York the labor demonstrations were particularly violent. The
special object sought to be accomplished there was the introduction
of the eight-hour system. Eastern Internationalists saw in this an
opportunity to strengthen their foothold in America, and they were
not slow in fomenting discord among the members of the different
trades-unions which had inaugurated the movement. They even went so far
as to proclaim that, if there was any interference with the eight-hour
strike, the streets would run red with the blood of capitalists. The
Communists of Chicago sympathized with their brethren in the East, but
they lacked numbers and similar conditions of violent discontent to
urge force and bloodshed in the attainment of the same object, which,
however, had been for some time under discussion by the Trades Assembly
of Chicago. They consequently contented themselves with wild attacks
upon the prevailing system of labor and urged a severance from existing
political parties and the formation of a party exclusively devoted to
the amelioration of the condition of workingmen.

Toward the end of the year 1873, the leaders seem to have concluded
that they had a sufficient number of adherents to form a party, and a
committee was appointed to prepare and submit a plan of organization.
On the 1st of January following, this committee reported. They
suggested organization into societies according to nationalities, and
that all societies thus organized should be directed by a central
committee, to be appointed from the several sections. At the same time
it was publicly announced that “the new organization did not seek the
overthrow of the national, State or city government by violence,” but
would work out its mission peaceably through the ballot-box.

While the formation of a party was under consideration, times were
exceedingly dull in the city. Thousands were idle, and there was a
general clamor among the unemployed for relief. This discontent was
seized upon to influence the minds of the poor against capital, and
the remedy was declared to lie only in Socialism. The Relief and
Aid Society formed the first point of attack. The Socialist leaders
loudly proclaimed that it had on hand over $600,000,—the charitable
contributions of the world sent to Chicago after the fire for the
benefit of the poor,—which sum was held, they claimed, for the
enrichment of the managers of that society and the benefit of “rich
paupers.” In the early part of December, 1873, a procession of the
unemployed marched through the streets of the city and demanded
assistance from the municipal authorities. They finally decided to
appeal to the Relief Society, and, backed by hundreds in line, a
committee attempted to wait upon the officials of that organization.
They were excluded, however, on the ground that all deserving cases
would be aided without the intervention of a committee.

The condition of labor now formed the pretext for many a diatribe
against capital in general and the alleged favoritism of the Relief
and Aid Society in particular; and many allied themselves with the
Socialistic organization—not comprehending its meaning, but because it
happened at the moment to appeal to their passions.

It was this state of affairs which spurred on the Socialist leaders
to the formation of a party. Having accepted the general plan of
organization as recommended by the committee, another meeting was held
in January, 1874. A declaration of principles was then formulated.
There were nine articles, which may be summarized as follows:

 Abolition of all class legislation and repeal of all existing laws
 favoring monopolies.

 All means of transportation, such as railroads, canals, telegraph,
 etc., to be controlled, managed and operated by the State.

 Abolition of the prevailing system of letting out public work by
 contract, the State or municipality to have all work of a public
 nature done under its own supervision and control.

 An amendment to the laws in regard to the recovery of wages, all suits
 brought for the recovery of wages to be decided within eight days.

 The payment of wages by the month to be abolished, and weekly payments
 substituted.

 A discontinuance of the hiring-out of prison labor to companies or
 individuals, prisoners to be employed by and for the benefit of the
 State only.

 Adoption by the State of compulsory education of all children between
 the ages of seven and fourteen years; the hiring-out of children under
 fourteen to be prohibited.

 All banking, both commercial and savings, to be done by the State.

 All kinds of salary grabs to be discontinued; all public officers to
 be paid a fixed salary instead of fees.

Specifically stated, the organization was made to consist of sections
and divisions and a central committee. Each section was made to consist
of twenty-five members, and was entitled to one delegate to the
conventions of the order, with one delegate for every additional one
hundred members or fraction thereof. The central committee was to be
composed of nine members, to be chosen by the delegates. The duties of
the committee were fixed under such rules as might be adopted by the
organization. Their term was from one general convention to another.
Each delegate was allowed as many votes as there were members of the
section he represented. Delegates from each section were obliged to
assemble every week to report all party affairs, and, if necessary,
were expected to make similar reports to the central committee.
Sections and divisions elected officers for six months. Two-thirds
of the members of each section were required to be wage-workers.
Each member had to pay only five cents initiation fee and five cents
monthly dues. One-half of the income from fees was given to the central
committee for printing and general expenses. All in arrears for three
months, barring sickness or want of employment, were expelled. Each
section was given the power to dismiss such members as acted by word,
writing or deed to the detriment of the party and its principles. The
right of appeal to the central committee was given to any member in
case three of his section favored it. Monthly reports to sections and
quarterly reports to the central committee as to the condition of the
organization and the treasury were required of the secretary. In the
event that any officer lost the confidence of his section, he could be
expelled before the expiration of his term by a majority vote.

Such were the principles and plans of the organization at the outset.
There does not appear anywhere anything to show that the ulterior
object of the party was to use violence to enforce its demands. On the
contrary, at a subsequent general gathering a preamble to the platform
expressly stated that the party was organized “to advocate and advance
the political platform of the Workingmen’s Party, to acquire power
in legislative bodies and to uphold the principles of the platform.”
Subsequent mass-meetings, held in January, ratified the declaration of
principles, and the various speakers urged that, inasmuch as the “other
political parties were for the benefit of unprincipled scalawags,”
their party had come into existence “pure and undefiled, to secure to
workingmen their rights.” The prime movers in the party at this time
were John McAuliff, L. Thorsmark, Carl Klings, Henry Stahl, August
Arnold, J. Zimple, Leo Meilbeck, Prokup Hudek, O. A. Bishop, John
Feltes, John Simmens, Jacob Winnen, J. Krueger, William Jeffers and
Robert Mueller. The organization was styled “The Workingmen’s Party of
Illinois.”

Active agitation at once commenced in various parts of the city.
Meetings were held wherever possible in the poorer sections of the
North and West Divisions. In all speeches the prevalent distress was
dwelt upon and the people were urged to combine against capital.
Some of the points made at these gatherings may be judged from the
remarks of the agitators at a meeting of the various sections of the
party at No. 68 West Lake Street on the 1st of March, 1874. While the
sentiments were somewhat rabid, there was no encouragement to deeds
of violence. One of the speakers, Mr. Zimple, spoke of the object of
the meeting as being “to devise means for marching on the bulwarks of
aristocracy, and gain for the working classes that social position
to which they were by right entitled.” Then followed an invective
against capital and society. “All existing things must be torn down,”
he continued, “and a new system of society built up.” Slaves even were
allowed to live, but, as things were then, workingmen, who could work
no longer, had to starve. If they stood together and elected good men
to the Legislature next fall, this state of affairs would be changed.
Legislators were too stupid to make a living by honest work, therefore
they had to subsist by robbing the people. Mr. Thorsmark expressed
confidence in the success of Socialism and said that if all workingmen
would do their duty “the present state of society would be re-formed,
not only for their benefit, but for the benefit of mankind.” Carl
Klings could conceive of “nothing more inhuman, cruel and outrageous
than the present state of society,” and it was for this reason, he
said, that they had banded together to “strike a blow which would
effect a change for all time to come.” The same tyrants, he argued,
who had slaughtered their brethren in cold blood and oppressed them in
France, could be found in Chicago. The workingmen of America had not
accomplished anything as yet, because they were not yet fully prepared,
but gradually they were becoming a great power, and soon would “no
longer be compelled to drink the bitter poison from the cup of the
aristocrats.” Mr. McAuliff touched on the wrongs of the existing state
of society as he saw it and held that “they all had to unite in one
common body and seek success at the ballot-box.”

To gain political power, the Socialists made their first attempt by
placing a ticket in the field. A convention was held in Thieleman’s
Theater, in the North Division of the city, on the 29th of March, 1874.
Although there were general city officers to be elected the following
month, the Socialists confined their efforts to making nominations only
for the town offices of North Chicago, in which section their theories
seemed, at that time, to have found the most fertile soil. Their
ticket was made up as follows: Assessor, George F. Duffy; Collector,
Philip Koerber; Supervisor, August Arnold; Town Clerk, Frederick Oest;
Constable, James Jones.

At this convention an impetus was given to the new organ of the
party, the _Vorbote_, which had just issued its initial number, and,
although this journal was given a considerable circulation to boom the
new-fledged candidates, the ticket only polled 950 votes.

But the leaders were not disheartened. They continued their political
agitation, and at the approach of the fall campaign they decided to
branch out more extensively, and to measure swords with the other
political parties for all the offices in sight. On the 25th of October,
1874, a convention was held in Bohemian Turner Hall, on Taylor Street,
near Canal, and Congressional, county and city tickets were put into
the field. For Congress they selected, for the West Side, W. S. Le
Grand; for the North Side, F. A. Hoffman, Jr. It was left an open
question whom they should support on the South Side. Their candidates
for the Legislature were: Madden, Rice, Hudek, Kranel, Thrane and
Hymann; and for the Senate, Rowe, Bishop, Methua and Koellner. County
Commissioners, Mueller, Bettetil, Bley and Maiewsky for the West Side,
and German and Breitenstein for the North Side. Their candidate for
Sheriff was E. Melchior, and for Coroner, Dr. Geiger. The aldermanic
selections were: In the Second Ward, Wasika; in the Fourth, Tuer;
in the Sixth, Grapsicsky; in the Seventh, Maj. Warnecke and E. A.
Haller; in the Eighth, Leonhard; in the Ninth, George Heck; in the
Tenth, Sticker; in the Eleventh, Urenharst; in the Twelfth, Zirbes;
in the Fourteenth, Sirks; in the Fifteenth, Schwenn and Anderson;
in the Sixteenth, Seilheimer; in the Seventeenth, H. Jensen; in the
Eighteenth, Frey; and in the Twentieth, Otto F. Schalz. In the wards
not given no nominations were made.

The strength of the ticket may be gathered by the fact that at the
election, on November 5th, Melchior received only 378 votes, while his
opponent, Agnew, Democrat, scored 28,549, and Bradley, Republican,
21,080. The Socialist candidate who polled the largest number of votes
was Breitenstein, for County Commissioner—790.

The leaders now became convinced that a German morning daily was
necessary to further the interests of their party. The _Illinois
Staats-Zeitung_ and the _Freie Presse_ had almost neutralized their
efforts on the stump, and they saw that they must have an organ to
meet these papers and reach the masses. They had seen the effects
of workingmen’s papers in Germany, where several representatives had
been sent to the Reichstag, and as their party shibboleth then was
“to secure power in legislative bodies” in Illinois, they determined
to found a paper of their own. On the 13th of December, 1874, on
Market Street, they held a secret meeting. The leading spirits in the
proceedings were Mueller, Simmens and Klings. It was proposed that
stock to the amount of $20,000 should be issued for a daily, but as
no one seemed to be thoroughly posted in the matter of publishing a
paper, it was decided to select a committee. Messrs. Klings, Helmerdeg,
Simmens, Methua, Kelting, Winner and Finkensieber were so selected,
but whether they made any progress, or submitted a report as to their
conclusions, is not known. It is certain that no daily appeared to
supplement the efforts of their weekly organ at that time, and it was
not until four or five years later that such a paper finally made its
appearance.

In the winter of 1874 and the spring of 1875 the Socialist agitators
were not openly aggressive, but they nevertheless kept quietly at
work sowing the seed of discontent. Finally, in October, 1875, they
resumed open and active agitation. The only meeting they held that
fall was at No. 529 Milwaukee Avenue, and their wrath was directed
especially against the Republican and Democratic candidates for County
Treasurer. The speakers were J. Webeking, John Feltis, Jacob Winnen, A.
Zimmerman and John Simmens. The burden of their harangues was that “the
workingmen should no longer believe the scoundrels” put up by the other
parties. It was time, they urged, to “destroy the power of the robber
band.” Workingmen must “organize, place laborers on the throne, and
drive capitalists from power.”

In the election, held the following month, they took no active part,
and this fact, together with the apparently quiescent condition of the
organization, prompted the _Tribune_ to remark:

 No longer do they work openly (smarting under former failures), nor do
 they allow outsiders like Oelke, Gruenhut and others to get into their
 ranks. The Workingmen’s Party of Illinois, as the Communists of this
 city style themselves, no longer acts as an independent organization,
 but has placed itself under the protectorate of the society of the
 Internationalists, which has branches in every city in the world. The
 executive committee of this society, which formerly resided in Paris
 and Leipsic, has now its headquarters in New York, and its mandates
 are implicitly complied with by all the local organizations. The
 central committee believe that during the winter large numbers will
 be without employment, and hence a proper time will come to strike
 a blow. For months they have been organizing military companies and
 maturing plans to burn Chicago and other large cities in the United
 States and the Old World.

At about this time a secret meeting was held at No. 140 West Lake
Street. Only members of the local committee of the Internationale and
the executive committee of the Workingmen’s Party were present. It
came to the surface that other than political measures were discussed.
The Socialist leaders denied all intention of abandoning politics, but
they did not hesitate to avow a belief that some startling blow would
facilitate the success of their movement. What seemed to give a strong
color of truth to reports about their incendiary intentions was the
action they took with reference to Carl Klings. He had been one of the
most active spirits in their organization. He was a fiery, impetuous
speaker and carried the crowds with him in all his harangues. For some
unknown reason, not explainable upon any other hypothesis than that
some violent demonstration was contemplated as a change from their
past policy, the party had decided to take no hand in the election of
November, and yet, in spite of this decision, Klings had entered into
it most bitterly and violently to accomplish the defeat of a candidate
against whom he cherished the greatest enmity. It would seem that this,
viewed from a Socialistic standpoint, ought to have commended him to
his brethren, especially as the candidate was beaten in the election,
but, on the representation that he had violated an order of the party,
Klings was summarily expelled from the organization on the 13th of
December, 1875. The fact that he had never secretly advocated violent
means undoubtedly accounts for his expulsion.

It is unquestionably true that at this time the Communists were
beginning to think of more serious matters than politics, and gradually
drifting away from their peaceful mission as avowed in their early
party platform and public declarations, and it is not unwarranted to
attribute their non-intervention in politics that fall to the efforts
and influence of the Internationale. They proved in more ways than one
that they had at heart revolutionary methods, and that they were only
awaiting an opportune time to boldly proclaim their sentiments. Even
if there could exist a doubt on this point, it was dissipated by the
utterances of the Socialists at a mass-meeting held December 26, 1875,
at West Twelfth Street Turner Hall, to protest against the treatment of
Communist prisoners in New Caledonia by the French Government.

As already stated, the Socialists had established in 1874 an
“International Workingmen’s Party of the State of Illinois,” and for
some time they held meetings under that pretentious title, principally
on Clybourn Avenue. The organization struggled along for awhile and
finally was lost to sight. Subsequently a “Workingmen’s Party of the
United States” appeared in the Socialistic world, and some of the
leaders of the old local organization began to identify themselves with
its establishment and success. They held frequent meetings on North
Avenue. The declaration of principles of the new party was as follows:

 The emancipation of the working classes must be achieved by the
 working classes themselves, independently of all political parties of
 the propertied class.

 The struggle for the emancipation of the working classes means not a
 struggle for class privileges and monopolies, but for equal rights and
 duties, and the abolition of all class rule.

 [Illustration: SCENES FROM THE RIOTS AT PITTSBURG, 1877.]

 The economical subjection of the man of labor to the monopolizers
 of the means of labor, the sources of life, lies at the bottom of
 servitude in all its forms, of all social misery, mental degradation
 and political dependence.

 The economical emancipation of the working classes is, therefore, the
 great end to which every political movement ought to be subordinate as
 a means.

 All efforts aiming at that great end have hitherto failed from want of
 solidarity between the manifold divisions of labor in each country,
 and from the absence of concerted action between the workingmen of all
 countries.

 The emancipation of labor is neither a local nor a national, but
 a social problem, embracing all countries in which modern society
 exists, and depending for its solution upon the practical and
 theoretical concurrence and coöperation of the most advanced countries.

 For these reasons the Workingmen’s Party of the United States has been
 founded. It enters into proper relations and connections with the
 workingmen of other countries.

 Whereas, political liberty without economical freedom is but an empty
 phrase; therefore, we will, in the first place, direct our efforts
 to the economical question. We repudiate entirely connection with
 all political parties of the propertied class without regard to
 their name. We demand that all the means of labor, land, machinery,
 railroads, telegraphs, canals, etc., become the common property of
 the whole people, for the purpose of abolishing the wage-system,
 and substituting in its place coöperative production with a just
 distribution of its rewards.

 The political action of the party will be confined generally to
 obtaining legislative acts in the interest of the working class
 proper. It will not enter into a political campaign before being
 strong enough to exercise a perceptible influence, and then in
 the first place locally in the towns or cities, when demands of
 purely local character may be presented, provided they are not in
 conflict with the platform and principles of the party. We work for
 organization of the trades-unions upon a national and international
 basis, to ameliorate the condition of the working people and seek to
 spread therein the above principles. The Workingmen’s Party of the
 United States proposes to introduce the following measures as a means
 to improve the condition of the working classes:

 1. Eight hours’ work for the present as a normal working day, and
 legal punishment for all violators.

 2. Sanitary inspection of all conditions of labor, means of
 subsistence and dwellings included.

 3. Establishment of bureaus of labor statistics in all States as well
 as by the National Government, the officers of these bureaus to be
 taken from the ranks of the labor organizations and elected by them.

 4. Prohibition of the use of prison labor by private employers.

 5. Prohibitory laws against the employment of children under fourteen
 years of age in industrial establishments.

 6. Gratuitous instruction in all educational institutions.

 7. Strict laws making employers liable for all accidents to the injury
 of their employes.

 8. Gratuitous administration of justice in courts of law.

 9. Abolition of all conspiracy laws.

 10. Railroads, telegraphs and all means of transportation to be taken
 hold of and operated by the Government.

 11. All industrial enterprises to be placed under the control of the
 Government as fast as practicable and operated by free coöperative
 trades-unions for the good of the whole people.

The Constitution of the “Workingmen’s Party of the United States” was
as follows:

 The affairs of the party shall be conducted by three bodies: 1. The
 Congress. 2. The Executive Committee. 3. The Board of Supervision.

 ARTICLE I. THE CONGRESS. 1. At least every two years a Congress shall
 be held, composed of the delegates from the different sections that
 have been connected with the party at least two months previously and
 complied with all their duties. Sections of less than one hundred
 members shall be entitled to one delegate; from one hundred to two
 hundred, to two delegates; and one more delegate for each additional
 hundred.

 2. No suspended section shall be admitted to a seat before the
 Congress has examined and passed judgment on the case. It shall,
 however, be the duty of every Congress to put such cases on the order
 of business and dispose of them immediately after the election of its
 officers.

 3. The Congress defines and establishes the political position of the
 party, decides finally on all differences within the party, appoints
 time and place of next Congress and designates the seat of the
 Executive Committee and of the Board of Supervisors.

 4. The entire expenses of Congress, as well as mileage and salaries
 of the delegates, shall be paid by the party and provided for by a
 special tax to be levied six weeks before the Congress meets before
 the year 1880; however, no mileage will be paid beyond the 36th degree
 of northern latitude, nor beyond the 59th degree of western longitude.

 5. All propositions and motions to be considered and acted upon by
 Congress shall be communicated to all sections at least six weeks
 previously.

 ARTICLE II. THE EXECUTIVE COMMITTEE. 1. The Executive Committee
 shall consist of seven members and shall appoint from its own midst
 one corresponding secretary, one recording secretary, one financial
 secretary and one treasurer. The Executive Committee shall be elected
 by the sections of the place designated as its seat, and vacancies
 shall be filled in the same way.

 2. The Executive Committee shall hold office from one Congress to the
 ensuing one.

 3. The duties of the Executive Committee shall be to execute all
 resolutions of Congress, and to see that they are strictly observed by
 all sections and members, to organize and centralize the propaganda,
 to represent the organization at home and abroad, to entertain and
 open relations with the workingmen’s parties of other countries, to
 make a quarterly report to the sections concerning the status of
 the organization and its financial position, to make all necessary
 preparations for the Congress as well as a detailed report on all
 party matters.

 4. _Right and Power of the Executive Committee._ The Executive
 Committee, with the concurrence of the Board of Supervision, may
 refuse to admit to the organization individuals and sections as well
 as suspend members and sections till the next Congress for injuring
 the party interests. In case of urgency the Executive Committee may
 make suitable propositions, which propositions shall become binding,
 if approved of by a majority of the members within two months. The
 Executive Committee has the right to establish rules and regulations
 for the policy to be observed by the party papers, to watch their
 course, and in cases of vacancies to appoint editors _pro tempore_.
 The Executive Committee may send the corresponding secretary as
 delegate to Congress; the delegate will have no vote and shall be
 prohibited from accepting any other credentials.

 5. The salary of the party officers shall be fixed by the Executive
 Committee with the concurrence of the Board of Supervision.

 6. The corresponding secretary shall copy all documents and writings
 issuing from the Executive Committee, place on file all communications
 received, and keep a correct record thereof. He shall receive a proper
 salary.

 7. The financial secretary shall keep and make out the lists of
 sections and members, receive and record all money and hand the same
 over to the treasurer, taking his voucher therefore.

 8. The treasurer shall receive all moneys from the financial
 secretary, pay bills and honor all orders of the Executive Committee,
 after they are countersigned by the corresponding secretary and one
 more member of the Executive Committee, make a correct report on the
 status of the treasury to the Executive Committee at every meeting and
 to the whole organization every three months, and give security in the
 amount fixed by the Executive Committee. The report of the treasurer
 must be examined at a regular session of the Executive Committee and
 indorsed by the same.

 ARTICLE III. THE BOARD OF SUPERVISION. 1. The Board of Supervision
 shall consist of five members, to hold office and be elected in the
 same way as the Executive Committee.

 2. The duties of the Board of Supervision shall be to watch over the
 action of the Executive Committee and that of the whole party; to
 superintend the administration and the editorial management of the
 organs of the party, and to interfere in case of need; to adjust all
 differences occurring in the party within four weeks after receiving
 the necessary evidence, subject to the final decision of the Congress;
 to make a detailed report of its actions to Congress.

 3. In case of any urgency the Board of Supervision may suspend
 officers and editors until the meeting of the next Congress, such
 suspension to be submitted at once to a general vote, the result of
 which shall be made known within four weeks thereafter.

 4. The Board of Supervision is entitled to send one delegate to the
 Congress under the same conditions as the Executive Committee.

 ARTICLE IV. SECTIONS. Ten persons speaking the same language and
 being wage-workers shall be entitled to form a section, provided they
 acknowledge the principles, statutes and Congress resolutions and
 belong to no political party of the propertied classes. They shall
 demand admission from the Executive Committee by transmitting the dues
 for the current month, and their list of members, their letter to
 contain the names, residences and trade of members, and to show their
 conditions as wage-laborers. At least three-fourths of the members
 of a section must be wage-laborers. There shall be no more than one
 section of the same language in one place, which meet at different
 parts of the town or city for the purpose of an active propaganda.
 Business meetings shall be held once a month. Each section is
 responsible for the integrity of its members. Each section is required
 to make a monthly report to the Executive Committee concerning its
 activity, membership and financial situation, to entertain friendly
 relations with the trades-unions and to promote their formation, to
 hold regular meetings at least once every week, and to direct its
 efforts exclusively to the organization, enlightening and emancipating
 the working classes. No section shall take part in political movements
 without the consent of the Executive Committee. Five sections of
 different localities shall be entitled to call for the convention of
 an extraordinary Congress, such Congress to be convened if a majority
 of the sections decides in its favor.

 ARTICLE V. DUES AND CONTRIBUTIONS. A monthly due of five cents for
 each member shall be transmitted to the Executive Committee to meet
 the expenses of the propaganda and administration. In case of need,
 and with the consent of the Board of Supervision, the Executive
 Committee is empowered to levy an extraordinary tax.

 ARTICLE VI. GENERAL REGULATIONS. All officers, committees, boards,
 etc., shall be chosen by a majority vote. No member of the
 organization shall hold more than one office at the same time. All
 officers, authorities, committees, boards, etc., of the organization,
 may be dismissed or removed at any time by a general vote of their
 constituencies, and such general vote shall be taken within one month
 from the date of the motion to this effect; provided, however, that
 said motion be seconded by not less than one-third of the respective
 constituents. Expulsion from one section shall be valid for the whole
 organization if approved by the Executive Committee and the Board of
 Supervision.

 All members of the organization, by the adoption of this constitution,
 take upon themselves the duty to assist each other morally and
 materially in case of need.

 The Congress alone has the right of amending, altering or adding to
 this constitution, subject to a general vote of all sections, the
 result of which is to be communicated to the Executive Committee
 within four weeks.

 ARTICLE VII. LOCAL STATUTES. Each section shall chose from its
 ranks one organizer, one corresponding and recording secretary, one
 financial secretary, one treasurer and two members of an auditing
 committee. All these officers shall be elected for six months, and the
 Executive Committee shall take timely measures to make the election
 of newly formed sections correspond with the general election of
 the whole party. The organizer conducts the local propaganda and is
 responsible to the section.

 The organizers of the various sections of one locality shall be
 in constant communication with each other in order to secure
 concerted action. The secretary is charged with the minutes and the
 correspondence. The financial secretary shall keep and make out the
 list of members, sign the cards of membership, collect the dues, hand
 them over to the treasurer and correctly enter them. The treasurer
 shall receive all moneys from the financial secretary and hold them
 subject to the order of the section. The auditing committee shall
 superintend all books and the general management of the affairs, and
 audit bills. All officers shall make monthly reports to the section.
 A chairman is elected in every meeting for maintaining the usual
 parliamentary order.

 The monthly dues of each member shall be no less than ten cents, five
 cents of which shall be paid to the Executive Committee. Members being
 in arrears for three consecutive months shall be suspended until
 fulfilling their duties, always excepted those who are sick or out of
 work. Persons not belonging to the wages-class can only be admitted
 in a regular business meeting by a two-thirds vote. The result of
 every election within the section must be at once communicated to the
 Executive Committee.

 _Regulations concerning the Press of the Workingmen’s Party
 of the United States._—The _Labor Standard_ of New York, the
 _Arbeiter-Stimme_ of New York and the _Vorbote_ of Chicago are
 recognized as the organs and property of the party. The organs of
 the party shall represent the interest of labor, awaken and arouse
 class feelings amongst the workingmen, promote their organization as
 well as the trades-union movement, and spread economical knowledge
 amongst them. The editorial management of each one of the papers of
 the party shall be intrusted to an editor appointed by Congress or
 by the Executive Committee and the Board of Supervision jointly, the
 editor to receive an appropriate salary. Whenever needed, assistant
 editors shall be appointed by the Executive Committee with the advice
 and consent of the chief editor. The chief editor is responsible
 for the contents of the paper and is to be guided in matters of
 principle by the declarations of principles of the party; in technical
 and formal matters by the regulations of the Executive Committee.
 Whenever refusing to insert a communication from a member of the
 organization, the editor is to make it known to the writer thereof,
 directly or by an editorial notice, when an appeal can be taken to the
 Executive Committee. The editor shall observe strict neutrality toward
 differences arising within the party till the Board of Supervision
 and the Congress have given their decision. For each one of the
 three party papers there shall be elected at their respective places
 of publication a council of administration of five members, who,
 jointly with the Executive Committee, shall appoint and remove the
 business manager and his assistants. The council of administration
 shall be chosen for one year in the first week of August of each
 year. The council of administration shall establish rules for the
 business management, superintend the same, investigate all complaints
 concerning the business management, redress all grievances, pay
 their weekly salaries to the editors and managers, and make a full
 report of the status of the paper every three months to all sections
 by a circular. The manager is bound to mail punctually and address
 correctly the papers; he shall receive all moneys, book them and hand
 them over to the treasurer of the council of administration, and he
 shall keep the office of the paper in good order; his salary shall be
 fixed by the Congress or by the Executive Committee. All sums over and
 above the amount of the security shall be deposited in a bank by the
 council of administration. The receipts of all moneys from without
 shall be published in the paper.

 The treasurer of the council of administration and the manager shall
 give security to the council of administration in the amount fixed
 by the Executive Committee. The chief editor’s salary shall be from
 $15 to $20 per week. All complaints against the editorial management
 shall in the first place be put before the Executive Committee, in
 the second place before the Board of Supervision. All complaints
 against the business management shall be first referred to the council
 of administration, in the second place to the Board of Supervision.
 The sections are responsible for the financial liabilities of the
 newspaper agents appointed by them. The Congress alone can alter,
 amend or add to these regulations.

The spring of 1876 found the local party in a quiescent state as
regards active participation in politics, but they did not abandon
their meetings. The First Regiment of the National Guard at this period
had assumed goodly proportions, and it naturally came in for a good
deal of attention at the hands of the speakers. They never failed to
denounce it; but, to cover their own sinister designs and lull others
to a sense of security, they invariably declared that the Communists
intended no war. They continued their “vacant-lot” oratory and in every
way sought to increase the number of their party adherents.

Toward the end of July, 1876, a Union Congress was held in
Philadelphia, and these new declarations of principles were formulated:

 The Union Congress of the Workingmen’s Party of the United States
 declares: The emancipation of labor is a social problem concerning the
 whole human race and embracing all sexes. The emancipation of women
 will be accomplished with the emancipation of men, and the so-called
 woman’s rights question will be solved with the labor question. All
 evils and wrongs of the present society can be abolished only when
 economical freedom is gained for men as well as for women. It is
 the duty, therefore, of the wives and daughters of the workingmen
 to organize themselves and take their places within the ranks of
 struggling labor. To aid and support them in this work is the duty
 of men. By uniting their efforts they will succeed in breaking the
 economical fetters, and a new and free race of men and women will
 arise, recognizing each other as peers. We acknowledge the perfect
 equality of rights of both sexes, and in the Workingmen’s Party of the
 United States this equality of rights is a principle and is strictly
 observed.

 _The Ballot-box._—Considering that the economical emancipation of the
 working classes is the great end, to which every political movement
 ought to be subordinate as a means; considering that the Workingmen’s
 Party of the United States in the first place directs its efforts
 to the economical struggle; considering that only in the economical
 arena the combatants for the Workingmen’s Party can be trained and
 disciplined; considering that in this country the ballot-box has long
 ago ceased to record the popular will, and only serves to falsify the
 same in the hands of professional politicians; considering that the
 organization of the working people is not yet far enough developed
 to overthrow at once this state of corruption; considering that
 this middle class republic has produced an enormous amount of small
 reformers and quacks, the intruding of whom will only be facilitated
 by a political movement of the Workingmen’s Party of the United
 States and considering that the corruption and misapplication of the
 ballot-box, as well as the silly reform movements, flourish most in
 years of Presidential elections, at such times greatly endangering
 the organization of workingmen: For these reasons the Union Congress,
 meeting at Philadelphia in July, 1876, resolves:

 [Illustration: THE GREAT STRIKE IN BALTIMORE. THE MILITIA FIGHTING
 THEIR WAY THROUGH THE STREETS.]

 The sections of this party as well as all workingmen in general are
 earnestly invited to abstain from all political movements for the
 present and to turn their back on the ballot-box. The workingmen
 will thus save themselves bitter disappointments, and their time and
 efforts will be directed far better towards their own organization,
 which is frequently destroyed and always injured by a hasty political
 movement.

 Let us bide our time! It will come.

 _Party Government._—Chicago shall be the seat of the Executive
 Committee for the ensuing term; New Haven, the seat of the Board of
 Supervision.

 _The Next Congress._—The Executive Committee, in connection with
 the Board of Supervision, shall select a place for holding the next
 Congress in the following named cities: Chicago, Ill.; Newark, N. J.;
 Boston, Mass. The end of August shall be the time for the meeting of
 the next Congress, and the Executive Committee jointly with the Board
 of Supervision shall decide whether the next Congress shall be held in
 1877 or 1878.

 _The Party Press._—As editor of the _Labor Standard_, J. P. McDonnell
 is appointed at a salary of $15 per week; at least one member of
 Typographical Union No. 6 shall be employed as a compositor. As editor
 of the _Arbeiter-Stimme_ Dr. A. Otto Walster is appointed at a salary
 of $18 per week; the paper is to be enlarged in a proper way in
 October next. As editor of the _Vorbote_ C. Conzett is appointed at a
 salary of $18 per week. In consideration of the claim of C. Conzett
 upon the paper for past services it is resolved that after a thorough
 investigation of the books the Executive Committee shall give to C.
 Conzett a promissory note for an amount not exceeding the sum of
 $1,430; for payment of this note two-thirds of the net gains made by
 party festivities in Chicago and the whole of the gain resulting from
 a general New Year’s festivity in the year 1876 shall be appropriated.
 Stock and assets to pass into the hands of the party. A coöperative
 printing association like the one in New York shall be formed in
 Chicago, which shall publish the _Vorbote_ at cost price, adding the
 usual percentage of wear and tear, and which shall buy the stock
 for not less than $600. A diminution of the size of the _Vorbote_
 is proposed, and Conzett is empowered to act in this matter with
 due regard to the interests of the party. Dr. A. Douai is appointed
 assistant editor of all three papers. It is also resolved to employ
 the late editor of the English paper as assistant editor for numbers
 18 and 19 of the _Labor Standard_ and pay him his usual salary of $12
 per week for two weeks more. It is resolved to levy an extraordinary
 tax of ten cents per member, and to continue said extraordinary tax
 every three months until all liabilities of the party shall be paid.
 All sections are invited to hold festivities in honor of the Union,
 now accomplished, and to devote the proceeds of these festivities to
 aid the press of the party and to pay the extraordinary taxes.

It was further resolved that “no local paper shall be founded without
the consent of the Executive Committee and the Board of Supervision.”
It was resolved to place the agencies of all foreign publications in
the hands of the party. After having come to an understanding with the
various publishers of labor papers in other countries, a central depot
was to be established. The two councils of administration of the party
organs in New York were charged with making the necessary preparations
for opening the central depot on the first day of October in New York.
It was also recommended to the party authorities to publish labor
pamphlets adapted to the conditions of this country.

 _Decisions of the Executive Committee._—In order to insure the
 collection of the extra tax of ten cents per quarter, levied by the
 Congress, the moneys sent in for dues will be credited to the extra
 tax account for the preceding quarter year, should such delinquencies
 occur. Any section in arrears for three months will be notified, and
 if within one month thereafter the section has not restored its good
 standing, it will be declared defunct. Where sections cannot appoint
 their own newspaper agent from among the members, they may appoint any
 person as their agent, but such agent must be personally responsible.
 Where sections fail to report gain or loss of members, they will be
 charged for dues and extra tax, according to the number of members
 enrolled at the last report. Every section shall be judge of its own
 members, but no expulsion from the whole party can be effected except
 as provided for by the constitution. No person can be a member of two
 sections at the same time.

 _Amendments to the Constitution._—Paragraph 3, division 4, under
 “Sections.” First amendment, adopted December 16th by a general
 election: In addition to one section (composed of men of each language
 of any locality) there may also be organized one section of women
 under the same regulations as the others. Second amendment, adopted
 July 15: Article 1, paragraph 4, is amended to read: “For the Congress
 to be held in the year 1887, the expenses of each delegate will be
 borne by the section or sections represented by him.”

During the winter of 1876 the excitement on the possible outcome of the
national election prostrated business throughout the country. There
were even rumors and threats of bloody conflict. Capital naturally
hesitated, and investments were confined to projects in which there
was no element of chance and for which the returns were measurably
certain. The Socialists of Chicago sought in every possible way to make
the most of the situation by inflaming the minds of the unemployed
against capital, and labored to secure proselytes by urging that such
a state of affairs could never exist under Socialism. Meetings were
held wherever either a hall or a vacant lot could be secured. A. R.
Parsons, Philip Van Patten, George A. Schilling, T. J. Morgan and Ben
Sibley, who had hitherto figured only before small street crowds, now
became prominent as speakers at large gatherings, and their harangues
proved that they were apt students in the Socialistic school, and ready
expounders of the proposed new social system.

The Legislature of Illinois was in session at the time under review,
and in March, 1877, the Socialist leaders entered into a discussion
of the necessity of forcing that body to pass the bills then pending
before it with reference to the establishment of a bureau of statistics
on wages and earnings, cost and manner of living, fatal accidents in
each branch of labor and their causes, coöperation, hours of labor,
etc., and for the collection of wages. They urged that the laboring
classes should demand these measures and insisted that the “boss
classes, the capitalistic classes, the aristocrats, who lived in riot
and luxury on the fruit which labor had tilled and ought to enjoy,”
should not stand in the way of their passage. Time and again they rang
the various changes on the “iniquity and inequalities of the present
social system,” and fairly howled themselves hoarse in declaring that
“the Labor party was organized not only to destroy that system, but
to secure a division of property, which Socialism demanded and was
determined to have.”

Early in July, 1877, the firemen and brakemen of the Baltimore and Ohio
Railroad began a strike at Baltimore against a reduction of wages. This
strike soon reached Martinsburg, W. Va., and caused an immense blockade
of freight traffic. The strikers finally grew so riotous that the local
authorities were powerless, and President Hayes, being appealed to by
the Governor of Maryland, issued a proclamation. United States troops
were at the same time dispatched from Washington and Fort McHenry to
the scene of disturbances, and order was finally brought out of chaos.

Following close upon the heels of this strike came one on the
Pennsylvania Railroad at Pittsburg, against an order doubling up trains
and thus dispensing with a large number of employés. The railroad
people, in explanation of their action, showed that during June
preceding not only had there been a great depreciation of railroad
stocks, but a shrinkage in the value of railroad property from 20 to 70
per cent., caused by a great falling-off in business. It is needless
for the purpose of this chapter to recount the wild scenes of riot and
bloodshed that ensued at Pittsburg, when troops numbering two thousand,
sent from Philadelphia, engaged in deadly conflict with the unbridled
mob and when millions of dollars’ worth of property was destroyed by
the incendiary torch.

While this carnival of fire, death and bloodshed still startled the
world, a strike broke out in Chicago among railroad men. While the
strikers here sought to contend in an orderly manner against their
employers, the same element which had inspired and carried out deeds of
violence in the East—the Communists—were not slow to seize upon the
opportunity in Chicago to widen the breach between capital and labor.
Threats and riotous demonstrations were their weapons. They virtually
took possession of all the large manufacturing establishments in the
city, and by intimidation and force compelled men willing to work and
satisfied with their wages to join their howling mobs. Not alone did
they succeed in stopping freight traffic, but they clogged the wheels
of industry in the principal factories and shops of the city. The
leaders were active during the day directing the riotous movements
of their followers, and at night they assembled to devise methods
to increase the general turmoil. Their headquarters were at No. 131
Milwaukee Avenue, and here all-night sessions were sometimes held.
Proclamations were frequently sent out to workingmen, urging them to
stand firmly in defense of their rights.

The leading spirits at this time were Philip Van Patten, now of
Cincinnati, J. H. White, J. Paulsen and Charles Erickson, who
constituted the executive committee of the Workingmen’s Party, and A.
R. Parsons and George Schilling.

Some of the meetings referred to were quite stormy in character.
Threats were made to “clean out” the police, and some speakers
advised attacks on the guardians of the peace with stones, bricks and
revolvers. The leaders were too cautious, however, to advise anything
of the kind in their public declarations. Violence was reserved for the
mobs on the inspiration of the moment, or at the instigation of trusted
adherents at the proper time.

That such were their intentions is apparent from a statement of one of
the members, who said:

“To-morrow Chicago will see a big day, and no one can predict what will
be the end of this contest.”

Sure enough, on the day following—the 25th of July—a conflict ensued
between the police and strong mobs at the Halsted Street Viaduct and
elsewhere, in which several of the rioters were injured. On the day
following, the riots reached their culminating point, and between the
police, infantry and cavalry the Communistic element were driven to
their holes with many killed and wounded. That effectually terminated
the reign of riot, and the city resumed its normal condition. The
trouble in the East also subsided about the same time.

The Communists, after this severe lesson, remained dormant for some
months. Evidently they saw that the time had not arrived for the
commencement of that revolution which they had at heart. In the fall of
1877 they seem to have reached the conclusion that they would exchange
the art of war for arts political. Accordingly, in October they were
again to be found on the campaign stump—for the first time since 1874.
There were then four parties in the field,—Democrats, Republicans,
Industrials and Greenbackers,—and this situation may have suggested
a chance for the success of their ticket or an opportunity to secure
concessions from the dominant parties that would result to their
advantage. C. J. Dixon was then chairman of the “Industrial Party.”
This party claimed to seek redress for the grievances of workingmen
without resorting to destruction of society or government, and if
it had denied affiliation with the Socialists it might have become
a factor in politics. It may be stated that for a time after the
election Dixon held to his principles, but a few years later became a
representative in the Legislature of the Communistic element.

The outcome of the political agitation of the Socialists that fall
was the nomination of the following ticket: For County Treasurer,
Frank A. Stauber; County Clerk, A. R. Parsons; Probate Clerk, Philip
Van Patten; Clerk of the Criminal Court, Tim O’Meara; Superintendent
of Schools, John McAuliff; County Commissioners, W. A. Barr, Samuel
Goldwater, T. J. Morgan, Max Nisler and L. Thorsmark. For Judge, John
A. Jameson, then on the bench, was indorsed, and Julius Rosenthal—not
a Socialist—was nominated for Judge of the Probate Court. The election
held on the 8th of November showed some gains for the party. Omitting
the “Industrials” which were swallowed up by the other parties in the
way of “election trades,” the Socialists secured a vote of 6,592 in the
contest for the County Treasurership, while McCrea, Republican, polled
a vote of 22,423; Lynch, Democrat, 18,388, and Hammond, Greenbacker,
769.

In 1878 a session of the Congress was again held, and then it was
decided to change the name of the “Workingmen’s Party of the United
States” to the “Socialistic Labor Party,” and it was also resolved to
“use the ballot-box as a means for the elevation of working people” and
for “electing men from their own ranks to the halls of legislation and
to the municipal government.”

The different wards of Chicago were subsequently organized into ward
clubs, each with a captain and secretary as permanent officers for
a year. It was made the duty of the captain of a ward to find halls
for public meetings and to report to the central committee. He was to
open the meetings in his ward and see that a chairman was chosen from
among those attending. The duty of the secretary was to issue cards of
membership to new members, to collect monthly dues of ten cents from
each member, and to receipt for the same on the back of the cards; he
was also to keep minutes of the meetings and have them published in
the party papers. The captain was authorized to appoint a precinct
captain for every precinct in his ward, whose duty it was to control
the distribution of tickets at elections. The precinct captain was also
directed to appoint lieutenants in his precinct, one for each block if
possible, to assist him in the work of agitation and the distribution
of tickets.

Under the plans formulated by the Socialistic Congress a central
committee was again organized in the city of Chicago. It was composed
of a chairman, a secretary and a treasurer, who were elected by a joint
meeting of the different sections every six months. In 1878 there were
four sections in Chicago—one German, one English, one French and one
Scandinavian. The German section had the largest number of members,
between three and four hundred, and was steadily gaining. The English
section numbered only about one hundred and fifty. The Scandinavian
branch had about an equal number. The French only mustered fifty
members. During a campaign the ward captains were made members of the
central committee. They were charged with the duty of reporting the
progress of the ward clubs, notifying the committee where halls had
been rented and indicating what speakers were needed. It was the duty
of the central committee to advertise all club meetings, pay for the
halls rented when the clubs could not pay, and settle all bills and
expenses incident to an election. The committee was the only body
authorized to order the printing of tickets, and for all their acts
they were held responsible to the “Socialistic Labor Party.” The money
needed to defray expenses was raised mostly through subscriptions
and collections in the various clubs. The meetings of the committee
were conducted openly. Representatives of the press were permitted to
be present if at any prior meeting they had not purposely distorted
the proceedings. During the years 1878 and 1879 the meetings of the
committee were generally held in a hall on the second floor of No. 7
South Clark Street.

[Illustration: THE LABOR TROUBLES OF 1877. RIOTS AT THE HALSTED STREET
VIADUCT, CHICAGO.]

With an organization thus perfected under the plan of the Socialistic
Congress, the Socialists felt themselves in condition to cope with the
other parties. They saw in the vote of 1877 a chance for seating some
of their members in the City Council, and set out to talk politics at
all their gatherings for the spring of 1878. On the 15th of March of
that year they held a convention at No. 45 North Clark Street, and
put up a ticket for Aldermen in all the wards except the Eleventh and
Eighteenth, and for the various town offices in the three divisions
of Chicago. Inasmuch as the “old timber” was worked over for these
various offices, it is needless to repeat names. Their platform
reiterated the demands made in the first declaration of principles,
and, in addition, asked for the establishment of public baths in each
division of the city; extension of the school system; annulment of the
gas and street-car companies’ charters, the same to be operated by the
city after payment to the owners of principal and interest on moneys
actually invested, out of the profits; prompt payment of taxes, and
employment for all residents of the city that needed it.

During the campaign incident to the election, Paul Grottkau, then a
recent arrival from Berlin, proved a conspicuous figure and made a
number of stirring appeals. He expounded the principles of Socialism
and invariably wound up by characterizing the members of the Democratic
and Republican parties as “liars and horse-thieves.” Through his active
participation in the Socialistic movement in Chicago Grottkau became
editor of the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_, but, fortunately for himself, was
displaced in 1880 by August Spies.

The election of April, 1878, resulted in placing one member in the City
Council—Stauber, from the Fourteenth Ward.

This was the first political victory the Socialists had achieved in the
city, and, having noticed a small but steady increase in their voting
force, they proceeded to organize and agitate more diligently than ever
before in a political way. Meanwhile they saw the growing strength of
the State militia, and as an offset to the organization of the various
military companies in Chicago they determined to raise and equip
companies from their own ranks. They had begun in a quiet way to start
the nucleus of military companies some time after the First Regiment
had been organized, but it was not until 1878 that it became generally
known that they had men armed and drilled in military tactics, to be
marshaled against society upon a favorable opportunity. In the early
part of 1878 the very flower and strength of their military was the
Lehr und Wehr Verein, composed of picked men and veterans who had been
baptized with fire on European battlefields. Its strength was variously
estimated at from four to six thousand, but it never exceeded four
hundred members. The “Jaeger Verein,” the “Bohemian Sharpshooters”
and the “Labor Guard of the Fifth Ward,” each with no more than fifty
members, were auxiliary organizations and composed mainly of raw
recruits. Their instruction in the manual of arms was mainly given by
Major Presser, a trained and skilled European tactician.

Meantime the party had been greatly strengthened by the aid of
newspapers printed in its interest. In 1874, _Die Volks-Zeitung_ had
been started by a stock company called the Social-Democratic Printing
Association. This paper was published at No. 94 South Market Street,
with Mr. Brucker as editor. Shortly thereafter, the _Vorbote_, a weekly
paper, was started under the auspices of the Workingmen’s Party at the
same number. C. Conzett, formerly a resident of Berne, Switzerland,
became its editor. He subsequently bought out the _Volks-Zeitung_
and thereafter published a tri-weekly paper under the name of the
_Arbeiter-Zeitung_, which became a private enterprise in the interest
of workingmen. His assistant editor was Gustav Leiser. They made the
paper an advocate of revolutionary methods and urged the organization
of trades-unions. They encouraged strikes and held that only through
such means could workingmen secure their rights. They published without
charge all grievances of laboring men on the score of non-payment of
wages and abuses of manufacturing concerns, but each article had the
full name of the writer. At first the editors did not favor a resort
to the ballot-box to remedy grievances. It was not until after the
great railroad strike of July, 1877, that they advocated an organized
fight in elections independently of the old parties. The workingmen,
they urged, must elect men of their own in order to secure favorable
legislation.

In 1878 an English weekly called the _Socialist_ was started under the
auspices of the main section of the Socialistic Labor Party of Chicago.
This main section was composed of the German, English, Scandinavian and
French sections, and they employed Frank Hirth as editor at a salary
of $15 per week and A. R. Parsons as assistant at a salary of $12 per
week. This paper was made the organ in the English language of the
Socialistic Labor Party, and, while it made some headway at the start,
it succumbed within a year, owing to jealousies and differences of
opinion between the German and English sections.

About the time the _Socialist_ was established another paper was put in
the field by the Scandinavian section. It was called _Den Nye Tid_, and
was edited by Mr. Peterson.

In 1878 the proprietor of the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ signified a
willingness to sell his paper to the Socialistic Labor Party, and, in
order to consummate the transfer, the main section held a meeting in
May of that year at Steinmueller’s Hall, No. 45 North Clark Street.
Plans were then and there matured for its purchase. It was decided to
borrow the money and issue notes at 6 per cent. interest, payable as
soon as the treasury had secured enough from collections and other
sources to take them up. Collectors were appointed for each division of
the city, and they were directed to collect money from workingmen and
storekeepers. On the evening of June 29, 1878, a meeting was held at
No. 7 South Clark Street, and the reports showed that enough money had
been raised to purchase the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_. Subsequently a general
meeting was held and a society was organized called the “Socialistische
Druckgesellschaft.” A board of trustees was chosen, and they applied to
the Secretary of State for a charter. That official declined to issue
the charter because the name of the society was in German. Another
meeting was held at No. 54 West Lake Street, and the name was changed
to the “Socialistic Publishing Company,” after which the charter was
readily secured. The paper was then transferred by Herr Conzett to
the new company, and subsequently the managers added a Sunday edition
called _Die Fackel_. Paul Grottkau, formerly editor of the Berlin
_Freie Presse_, was appointed editor under the new management at a
salary of $15 per week, and F. J. Pfeiffer, of Chicago, was made
assistant editor. The society which now had charge of the paper was
composed of _bona fide_ members of the German section. Their meetings
were conducted in the same manner as those of the Socialistic Labor
Party. The price of the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ was reduced, and all money
realized from its sale over and above expenses was applied for purposes
of agitation. While the paper was reported in a prospering condition,
it was decided to take steps to pay off its indebtednes as represented
by the outstanding notes, and to this end a grand festival was to be
held, the proceeds of which should be devoted to the press fund. Some
trouble was experienced in getting a hall large enough for the purpose.
The Exposition Building was finally decided upon, and it was secured
without much delay, with results as noted further along in this chapter.

Soon after the _Socialist_ had expired, the members of the Workingmen’s
Party felt the need of an English organ, and, having meanwhile come
to a better understanding, they decided that they would make another
effort to put one before the people. The result of several conferences
was a monster picnic at Wright’s Grove on the 16th of June, 1878.
The procession formed to make the occasion imposing numbered about
three thousand, and side by side with the American flag was borne
the red banner of Anarchy. This emblem, although it finally crowded
out the “stars and stripes,” had hitherto been reserved in public
demonstrations for a minor place. Some of the mottoes displayed on
this occasion ran as follows: “No Rich, no Poor—All Alike.” “No
Monopolies—All for One and One for All.” “Land belongs to Society,”
and “No Masters, no Slaves.”

The result of the picnic was that the _Alarm_ was established, and A.
R. Parsons became its editor on a weekly allowance of $5, subsequently
raised to $8.

In the fall campaign of 1878 we find the Socialists again in the field
with a full ticket for Congressmen, the Legislature and local offices.
Former party platforms were reaffirmed, and mass-meetings to fire
the hearts of workingmen were frequently held. At these gatherings
capitalists were denounced as usual, and the police came in for some
attention. The campaign song was also introduced, and the chorus
of one, rendered by an untamed troubadour named W. B. Creech, and
referring to the police, ran after this style, to the air of “Peeler
and Goat”:

[Illustration: DR. CARL EDUARD NOBILING.]

  Then raise your voices, workingmen,
    Against such cowardly hirelings, O!
  Go to the polls and slaughter them
    With ballots, instead of bullets, O!

One Dr. McIntosh could always be depended on for grinding out any
quantity of doggerel of this kind for any occasion. The Socialists
claimed that they would poll on the day of election—Nov. 5th—from
9,000 to 13,000 votes. Their calculations, like their utterances, were
wild and wide off the mark, however, as their candidate for Sheriff,
Ryan, only secured 5,980 votes, while Hoffman, Republican, had 16,592;
Kern, Democrat, 16,586, and Dixon, Greenbacker, 4,491. They secured,
however, a member of the State Senate, Sylvester Artley, and three
members of the lower house of the Legislature—Leo Meilbeck, Charles
Ehrhardt and Christian Meier.

[Illustration: MAX HOEDEL.]

This gave them great confidence, and they pushed with greater vigor
than ever their political work. Meetings were kept up throughout the
winter, and, among other things, they discussed measures which they
demanded from the Legislature in the interest of labor. These demands
included reducing the hours of labor; the establishment of a bureau of
labor statistics; abolishment of convict labor; sanitary inspection of
food, dwellings, factories, work-shops and mines; abolition of child
labor; liability of employers for all accidents to employés through the
employers’ neglect, and priority of demands for wages over all other
claims. They found time also to give their attention to their brethren
in Europe, and at a meeting held Sunday, January 19, 1879, they adopted
resolutions denouncing Bismarck for persecutions of workingmen in
Germany. The pretext for these persecutions, they claimed, grew out of
the attempts on the life of Emperor William by Hoedel and Dr. Nobiling.
The would-be assassins, they confessed, had once been Socialists, but
at the time of the attack had had nothing in common with the order.
Hoedel, they said, had been expelled, and had subsequently joined the
“Christian Socialistic Party,” which they asserted had the favor of
the Government, and at the head of which was a Government official.
They claimed that Hoedel had been instigated to the deed by the German
court, and they even doubted that he had been beheaded in expiation
of his crime. Hoedel, they said, had been simply an instrument in the
hands of Bismarck, who wanted a pretext to persecute the Socialists and
secure the passage of a bill in the Reichstag for their suppression.
Under the provisions of that bill, they asserted, men, women and
children were thrown into dungeons without trial, and they insisted
that the Congress of the United States should voice their protest
against such persecutions.

At nearly every large meeting held during the winter in question,
Creech was to the front with new songs, among one the chorus of which
ran thus:

  Raise aloft the crimson banner, emblem of the free;
  Mighty tyrants now are trembling, here and o’er the sea.

On the evening of March 22, 1879, they held the celebration in the
Exposition Building already referred to. This was ostensibly in
commemoration of the establishment of the Paris Commune in 1848 and
again in 1871. The real purpose, however, was to obtain funds to defray
the expenses incident to the coming spring campaign and to aid in
making a daily out of their tri-weekly organ, the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_.
There were from 20,000 to 25,000 people in the building, and the
amount reported realized reached $4,500. There was speech-making by
Dr. Ernst Schmidt, A. R. Parsons, Paul Grottkau, and lesser lights,
and the various military companies of the organization strutted about
in their uniforms, with belts, cartridge-boxes, bayonet scabbards and
breech-loading Remingtons.

With part of the proceeds of this celebration, the Socialists fitted up
campaign headquarters in a top-story room on the northeast corner of
Madison and La Salle Streets, in the very heart of the business center.
Their ticket covered all the offices from Mayor lo Aldermen. The only
new names that figured on this ticket were those of N. H. Jorgensen,
J. J. Alpeter, Robert Buck, Henry Johnson, Max Selle, George Brown, R.
Lorenz, James Lynn and R. Van Deventer. The election occurred on the
1st of April, 1879, and their candidate for Mayor, Dr. Schmidt, secured
11,829 votes, while Carter H. Harrison, Democrat, scored 25,685,
and A. M. Wright, Republican, 20,496. They elected three Aldermen,
however—Alpeter from the Sixth Ward, Lorenz from the Fourteenth, and
Meier, then in the Legislature, from the Sixteenth, which made, with
Stauber, four representatives in the City Council.

[Illustration: BANNERS OF THE SOCIAL REVOLUTION—I. FROM PHOTOGRAPHS.]

With the inauguration of Carter Harrison’s administration, a good deal
of attention was given to the Socialists by him as well as by his
Democratic co-laborers. Some of their men were given employment in the
departments of the city. Although they still continued their agitation,
these appointments and other favors had the effect of undermining their
political strength.

In the next Mayoralty election they made a show of keeping up their
organization and nominated George Schilling for Mayor and Frank Stauber
for City Treasurer. But in the election held April 5th, 1881, the
former only polled 240 votes, and Stauber 1,999, thus demonstrating an
almost complete collapse of the party.

This virtually took them out of politics. Thenceforward the Socialists
seem to have decided to abandon the ballot-box, and to rely on force
only for the attainment of their objects. Accordingly their harangues
were directed to the dissemination of the doctrines of revolution. They
endeavored still, it is true, to maintain a representation in the City
Council, but in 1884 the Socialistic element was entirely eliminated
from that body.

[Illustration: CARTER H. HARRISON.]

At the session of the Congress of the International Workingmen’s
Association held at Pittsburg from the 14th to the 16th of October,
1883, there was a large delegation of Chicago Anarchists. A question
arose as to the use of the ballot for remedying the wrongs of the
laboring people. The delegates from Baltimore insisted that recourse
should be had to the ballot-box, but those from Pittsburg were of
another mind, and favored something stronger. This suggestion gave
the Anarchist contingent from Chicago an opportunity to come to the
front, and, while some of these did not hold to extreme measures,
they all agreed that the ballot-box only served to keep capitalistic
representatives in office. The radical Chicago element went still
further, holding that the theory of Karl Marx, the use of force, was
the correct one, and that that force should be dynamite. But here a
split occurred in their own delegation, the milder ones holding to the
theory of Lassalle, that they should first give the ballot a thorough
trial and use force only in the event of failure. The sentiment of
the convention predominated in favor of force, and the conservative
Anarchists ceased to be members.

The controversy thus begun was carried back to Chicago, and the
radicals set themselves strenuously to work to bring their disaffected
associates to the advocacy of dynamite. The members of the Lehr und
Wehr Verein were particularly opposed to the use of the bomb. They
had equipped themselves and drilled in the use of guns so as to be
able to meet the police and militia after failure at the polls, and
they contended that men carrying bombs would be apt, through lack
of experience, to hurt themselves as much as their opponents. Men
thoroughly drilled in the handling of a gun, they argued, could
accomplish something, and to that end every one should be instructed in
military tactics. The radicals of the various “groups” did not believe
in guns, however, and held that, inasmuch as they had experimented with
dynamite with some success, they should adopt it as a means of warfare.
They finally brought all to their ideas, and from that time to the
present they have given the subject of dynamite and explosives a great
deal of study.

As indicating the sense of the Pittsburg Congress their plan of
organization and resolutions are here given:

 The name of the organization shall be “International Workingmen’s
 Association.”

 1. The organization shall consist of federal groups which recognize
 the principles laid down in the manifesto and consider themselves
 bound by them.

 2. Five persons shall have the right to form a group.

 3. Each group shall have complete independence (autonomy) and shall
 further have the right to conduct the propaganda in accordance with
 its own judgment, but the same must not collide with the fundamental
 principles of the organization.

 4. Each group may call itself by the name of its location. When there
 is more than one group, they shall be numbered.

 5. In places where there is more than one group it is recommended that
 a general committee be formed to secure united action. Such committees
 shall, however, have no executive power.

 6. A Bureau of Information shall be created at Chicago and shall
 consist of a secretary of each of the groups of different languages.
 It is the duty of such bureau to keep an exact list of all the groups
 belonging to the organization and to keep up correspondence with and
 between the domestic and foreign groups.

 7. Groups intending to join the organization must, after they have
 recognized its principles, send their application and list of members
 to the groups located nearest to them, whose duty it is then to
 forward such application to the Bureau of Information. The groups
 shall send a report of the situation to the Bureau of Information at
 least every three months.

 8. A Congress can be called at any time by a majority of the groups.

 9. All the necessary expenses of the Bureau of Information shall be
 met by voluntary contributions of the groups.

 _Plan for the Propaganda._—The organization of North America shall
 be divided into nine districts of agitation, as follows: 1. Canada.
 2. District of Columbia. 3. The Eastern States (Maine, New Hampshire,
 Vermont, Massachusetts, Rhode Island, Connecticut, New York, New
 Jersey, Pennsylvania, Delaware and Maryland). 4. The Middle States
 (Ohio, West Virginia, Indiana, Kentucky, Michigan, Wisconsin,
 and Illinois). 5. The Western States (Missouri, Iowa, Minnesota,
 Nebraska, Dakota, Kansas, Indian Territory and New Mexico). 6. The
 Rocky Mountain States (Colorado, Montana, Idaho Territory, Utah
 and Nevada). 7. The Pacific Coast States. 8. The Southern States
 (Virginia, North Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia, Florida, Alabama,
 Tennessee, Mississippi, Arkansas, Louisiana and Texas.) 9. Mexico.

 It is recommended to the several districts to organize general
 district committees for the purpose of more effective and united
 action. It is the duty of these general committees to provide that
 whenever practicable agitators shall be sent forth. If there is a lack
 of proper agitators in a district the general committee shall inform
 the Bureau of Information. This shall be done also when there is a
 surplus of workers, so that the bureau shall be able to bring about an
 equal distribution of the working elements.

 The expenses of the traveling agitators shall be paid by local groups,
 or, when these are without means, by the general organization.

 _Resolutions._—The following resolutions were offered by A. R.
 Parsons:

 “In consideration that the protection capitalists are men who, by
 excluding the cheap products of labor of competing countries, intend
 to make enormous profits, while the free-trade capitalists intend to
 make just as large profits by the sale of the cheap products of labor
 of other countries; and

 “In consideration that the only difference between the two is this:
 That the one wants to import the products of cheap foreign labor,
 while the others consider it of greater advantage to import the cheap
 labor itself of other countries; and

 “In consideration that it is a great injustice to tax by a protective
 tariff a whole people for the benefit of a few privileged capitalists
 or of branches of industry: Be it, therefore,

 “_Resolved_, That we, the International Workingmen’s Association,
 consider the protective tariff and free trade questions
 capitalistic questions, which have not the least interest for
 wage-workers—questions which are intended to confuse and mislead the
 workingman. The fight on both sides is only one for the possession
 of the robbed products of labor. The question whether there should
 be a protective tariff or free trade are political questions, which
 for some time past have divided governments and nations into opposing
 factions, but which, as already said, do not contribute toward the
 solution of social questions. The adage, _Polvere negli occhi_
 (throwing dust in the eyes), expresses the intentions of both parties.

 “In consideration that we see in trades-unions advocating progressive
 principles the abolishment of the wage system—the corner-stone of a
 better and more just system of society than the present; and

 “In consideration, further, that these trades-unions consist of an
 army of robbed and disinherited fellow-sufferers and brothers, called
 to overthrow the economic establishments of the present time for the
 purpose of general and free coöperation: Be it, therefore,

 “_Resolved_, That we, the I. W. M. A., proffer the hand of fellowship
 to them, and give them our sympathy and help in their fight against
 the ever-growing despotism of private capital; and

 “_Resolved_, That while we give such progressive trades-unions our
 fullest sympathy and assure them of every assistance in our power,
 we are, on the other hand, determined to fight and, if possible, to
 annihilate every organization given to reactionary principles, as
 these are the enemies of the emancipation of the workingmen, as well
 as of humanity and of progress.

 “In consideration that the courts of arbitration for settlement of
 differences between the workingmen and their employers, without the
 fundamental condition of free and independent action on both sides,
 are simply contrary to reason; and

 “In consideration that a free settlement between the rich and the poor
 is impossible since the wage-worker has but the choice to obey or to
 starve; and

 “In consideration that arbitration is possible and just only in case
 both parties are so situated that they can accept or refuse an offer
 entirely of their own free will: Be it, therefore,

 “_Resolved_, That arbitration between capital and labor is to be
 condemned. Wage-workers ought never to resort to it.”

After expressions of sympathy for the striking coal-miners in Dubois,
Pa., who were advised to arm themselves for defense against the bandits
of order, the resolutions proceed:

 “In consideration that our brothers and fellow combatants in the
 Old World are engaged in a terrible struggle against our common
 foe, the crowned and uncrowned despots of the world, the church and
 priestcraft, and thousands of them are languishing in prison and in
 Siberia and are suffering in exile: Be it, therefore,

 “_Resolved_, That we tender these heroic martyrs our sympathies,
 encouragement and aid.

 “In consideration that there is no material difference existing
 between the aims of the I. W. M. A. and the Socialistic Labor Party:
 Be it, therefore,

 “_Resolved_, That we invite the members of the S. L. P. to unite with
 us on the basis of the principles laid down in our manifesto for the
 purpose of a common and effective propaganda.”

 Issued by order of the Pittsburg Congress of the International
 Workingmen’s Association. For further information apply to the
 undersigned “Bureau of Information.”

  Secretary of the English language, AUG. SPIES.
  Secretary of the German language, PAUL GROTTKAU.
  Secretary of the French language, WM. MEDOW.
  Secretary of the Bohemian language, J. MIKOLANDA.

 No. 107 Fifth Avenue, Chicago.

In accordance with pre-arranged plans, therefore, when the street-car
riots occurred on the West Division Railroad in the summer of 1885,
the Anarchists and Socialists of Chicago took a prominent part and
did everything in their power to create a bloody conflict between the
police and the strikers. In 1886, when the laboring classes of Chicago
had decided to strike on the 1st of May for eight hours as a day’s
work, they came forward and resolved to strike a blow which would
terrorize the community and inaugurate the rule of the Commune. How
they went to work in that direction and how they succeeded is fully
shown in succeeding chapters.



CHAPTER IV.

 Socialism, Theoretic and Practical—Statements of the
 Leaders—Vengeance on the “Spitzels”—The Black Flag in the
 Streets—Resolutions in the _Alarm_—The Board of Trade
 Procession—Why it Failed—Experts on Anarchy—Parsons, Spies, Schwab
 and Fielden Outline their Belief—The International Platform—Why
 Communism Must Fail—A French Experiment and its Lesson—The Law of
 Averages—Extracts from the Anarchic Press—Preaching Murder—Dynamite
 or the Ballot-Box?—“The Reaction in America”—Plans for Street
 Fighting—Riot Drill and Tactics—Bakounine and the Social
 Revolution—Twenty-one Statements of an Anarchist’s Duty—Herways’
 Formula—Predicting the Haymarket—The Lehr und Wehr Verein and the
 Supreme Court—The White Terror and the Red—Reinsdorf, the Father
 of Anarchy—His Association with Hoedel and Nobiling—Attempt to
 Assassinate the German Emperor—Reinsdorf at Berlin—His Desperate
 Plan—“Old Lehmann” and the Socialist’s Dagger—The Germania
 Monument—An Attempt to Kill the Whole Court—A Culvert Full of
 Dynamite—A Wet Fuse and no Explosion—Reinsdorf Condemned to
 Death—His Last Letters—Chicago Students of his Teachings—De
 Tocqueville and Socialism.


THE Constitution of the United States guarantees the right of free
speech, free discussion and free assemblage. These are the cardinal
doctrines of our free institutions. But when liberty is trenched upon
to the extent of advocacy of revolutionary methods, subversion of law
and order and the displacement of existing society, Socialism places
itself beyond the pale of moral forces and arrays itself on the side
of the freebooter, the bandit, the cut-throat and the traitor. Public
measures and public men are open to the widest criticism consistent
with truth, decency and justice, but differences of opinion are no
more to be brought into harmony through blood than the settlement
of private disputes is to be effected by means of the bludgeon, the
knife or the bullet. The freedom of speech which is valuable either to
the individual or to humanity is that which builds up, not destroys,
society.

Now, what does Socialism, or Anarchy, precisely teach, and at what
does it aim? It is true, there are two schools of Socialism—one
conservative and the other radical to a sanguinary degree; one seeking
a change in existing society and government through enlightenment,
and the other the attainment of the same principles through force.
But the conservatives form so small a portion of the Socialistic body
that they cut no figure in the general direction and management of the
organization; and so far as relates to the visible manifestations of
that body, Socialism in the United States may be regarded as synonymous
with Anarchy.

As I have shown, the ostensible object of the organization in Chicago,
as elsewhere, at the outset, was peaceful, but the ulterior aim—the
establishment of Socialism through force, when sufficiently powerful
in numbers—has in later years clearly developed. The early Socialist
orators only hinted at force as a possible factor in the social
revolution they advocated, and it was reserved for the active agitators
of the past ten years to boldly and openly proclaim for the methods of
the Paris Commune.

Before proceeding to particulars as to the utterances of Anarchist
leaders, the sources of their inspiration and their definition of
Socialism, it may be well to advert to some incidents in connection
with their movements as a revolutionary party. One incident specially
worthy of mention was a meeting held at Mueller’s Hall, corner of
Sedgwick Street and North Avenue, on the evening of January 12, 1885.
It was a secret gathering, but, despite Socialistic vigilance, Officer
Michael Hoffman managed to remain and quietly note the drift of the
speeches. Parsons first took the floor, and said:

[Illustration: THE BLACK FLAG. From a Photograph.]

 Gentlemen, before we call this meeting to order, I want you to be sure
 that we are all right and all one. I want you to see if there are any
 reporters or policemen present. See if you can discover any spies.
 If you find any one here, you can do with him as you please, but my
 advice to you is, take him and strangle him and then throw him out of
 the window; then let the people think that the fellow fell out. And if
 you should give one of them a chance for his life, tell him, if he has
 any more notions to come to our meetings, he should first go to St.
 Michael’s Church, see the priest and prepare himself for death, say
 farewell to all his friends and family—and then let him enter. I want
 all these people to know that I am not afraid of them; I don’t like
 them, and let them stay away from me.

After precautions had been taken to exclude objectionable persons, the
proceedings began. Four speeches were delivered, two in English and two
in German. Parsons confined his remarks to the capitalists. All present
were poor, he said, and they only had themselves to blame. One-half
of all the wealth in the country belonged to the poor people, but the
capitalists had robbed them of it. The poor offered no resistance,
and yet the capitalist was doing the same thing day after day. He was
getting richer, and the poor poorer, because the working people lay
down and permitted themselves to be robbed. He recounted some of Most’s
experiences, and insisted that capitalists must submit to workingmen.
They must be shown that their lives are worth no more than the lives of
the working people.

[Illustration: THE OFFICE OF THE ARBEITER-ZEITUNG.

From a Photograph.]

He next touched upon the merits of a new invention by which, he said,
many hundreds of houses could be set on fire, and exhibited a small
tin box or can with a capacity of four ounces. This can, he remarked,
could be filled with some chemical stuff to serve as an explosive. A
great many of these cans could be carried in a basket, and, traveling
around as match peddlers or under some other guise, his hearers could
secure entrance to the houses of capitalists. All they would then be
obliged to do was to either place or drop one of “those darlings” in a
secure place and go about their business. It would do its work, without
any one’s presence to attend to it, in less time than an hour. If they
would get the boxes ready, he would tell them where to get the “stuff.”
This plan of operations would keep the fire and police departments
quite busy. If they organized and went to work with a resolute spirit,
they could have things all their own way throughout the city and obtain
possession of what remained after their work of destruction. He also
urged all his comrades to become familiar with dynamite and said that
for the necessary instructions they could come to a building on Fifth
Avenue (107, the offices of the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ and _Alarm_), where
he and others could be found to help them. There was no other way now
left, he continued, except for the laborers to use the sword, the
bullet and dynamite, and, closing sententiously, he said:

 I probably will be hung as soon as I get out on the street, but if
 they do hang me, boys, don’t forget what I have been telling you about
 the little can and the dear stuff, dynamite, because this is the only
 way I and you can get our rights.

It goes without saying that Parsons was applauded to the echo. Another
speaker emphasized his remarks about dynamite, but refrained from
making a speech, because, as he said, Parsons had “covered the ground
so well and thoroughly.” One of the German speakers gave his attention
to King William and the Pope, scoring them in the strongest language he
could command. He held that the “police of Chicago were only kept to
protect the property of capitalists and to club poor workingmen.”

Another event memorable in the history of the party was the flaunting
of the black flag on the streets of Chicago for the first time. On that
occasion—November 25, 1884, Thanksgiving Day—they marched through the
fashionable thoroughfares of the South and North Divisions, and, with
two women as standard-bearers for the black and the red, they made it
a point to halt before the residences of the wealthy, uttering groans
and using threatening language. Their route included Dearborn Street to
Maple on the North Side. There they massed in front of the residence of
Hon. E. B. Washburne, ex-Minister to France. They pulled the door-bell
and insulted the family by indulging in all sorts of noises, groans
and cat-calls. They rested satisfied with this last exhibition, and
retraced their steps, proceeding to Market Square, where they dispersed.

The preliminaries leading up to the procession just described were thus
given in the _Alarm_ on the following Saturday:


THE BLACK FLAG.

 _The Emblem of Hunger Unfolded by the Proletarians of Chicago.—The
 Red Flag Borne Aloft by Thousands of Workingmen on Thanksgiving
 Day.—The Poverty of the Poor is Created by the Robbery of the
 Rich.—Speeches, Resolutions and a Grand Demonstration of the
 Unemployed, the Tramps and Miserables of the City.—Significant
 Incidents._

 Shortly before Thanksgiving Day some of the working people, after
 consultation, issued the following circular to wage-workers and tramps:

 The Governor has ordained next Thursday for Thanksgiving. You are to
 give thanks because your masters refuse you employment; because you
 are hungry and without home or shelter, and your masters have taken
 away what you have created, and arranged to shoot you by the police or
 militia if you refuse to die in your hovels, in due observation of Law
 and Order. You must give thanks that you face the blizzards without
 an overcoat; without fit shoes and clothes, while abundant clothing
 made by you spoils in the storehouses; that you suffer hunger while
 millions of bushels of grain rots in the elevators. For this purpose a
 thanksgiving meeting will be held on Market Square at 2:30 o’clock, to
 be followed by a demonstration to express our thanks to our “Christian
 brothers on Michigan Avenue.” Every one that feels the mockery of this
 Thanksgiving order should be present. Signed, the Committee of the
 Grateful Workingpeople’s International Association.

Thursday opened with sleet and rain, cold and miserable. At 2:30 over
three thousand people assembled on Market Street, under the unpitying
rain and sleet. A stranger said, “What you want is guns; you don’t want
to be heard talking.” He was stopped for the regular arrangements.
The meeting being called to order, A. R. Parsons said: “We assemble
as representatives of the disinherited, to speak in the name of forty
thousand unemployed workingmen of Chicago—two millions in the United
States and fifteen millions in the civilized world.” He compared the
Thanksgiving feast to that of Belshazzar, and said the champagne wrung
from the blood of the poor ought to strangle the rich. He then read as
follows: “St. James, chapter 5, says, ‘Go to now, ye rich men, weep
and howl for your miseries which are to come upon you. Your riches
are corrupted, and your garments are moth-eaten. Your gold and silver
is cankered; and the rust of them shall be a witness against you, and
shall eat your flesh as it were fire. Ye have heaped treasures together
for the last days.

[Illustration: AN ANARCHIST PROCESSION.]

Behold, the hire of the laborers who have reaped down your fields,
which ye have kept back by fraud, crieth: ‘Woe to them that bring about
iniquity by law.’ The prophet Habakkuk says: ‘Woe to him that buildeth
a town by blood, and establisheth a city by iniquity.’ The prophet Amos
says: ‘Hear this, O ye that swallow up the needy, even to make the poor
to fail from the land, that I may buy the poor for silver, and the
needy for a pair of shoes.’ The prophet Isaiah says: ‘Woe unto them
that chain house to house, and lay field to field, till there is no
place, that they may be alone in the midst of the earth.’ Solomon says:
‘There is a generation that are pure in their own eyes, and yet is not
washed of their filthiness; a generation, O, how lifted are their eyes,
and how their eyelids are lifted up: A generation whose teeth are as
swords, and their jaw-teeth as knives, to devour the poor from off the
earth, and the needy from among men.’”

And, concluding, he said: “We did not intend to wait for a future
existence, but to do something for ourselves in this.”

He introduced S. S. Griffin, who said this was an international
assembly in the interests of humanity, having no quarrel with each
other and objecting to being set at work by governmental scheme. “Don’t
believe that any government or system should be allowed to pit man
against man, for any cause; and to get at the root of these evils, we
must go to the foundation of property rights and the wage system. The
old system could not meet the demands of our present civilization. The
present cry is against over-production, because it operates against
humanity. Over-production, glutting the market, causes a lock-out,
depriving the wage class of the means of purchasing. Vacant houses
stop the building industry, and result in throwing builders out of
employment. Ragged because of a surplus of clothing; homeless because
of too many houses; hungry because there is too much bread; freezing
because too much coal is produced. The system must be changed. Man can
wear but one suit of clothes at a time and can consume only about so
much. The genius of our age is inventing and increasing the productive
power. A system that in effect tells the working classes that, the more
they produce, the less they will have to enjoy, is a check on human
progress and cannot continue. Everything must be made free. No man
should control what he has no personal use for.”

Upon Mr. Parsons’ call the resolutions were read, as follows:

 WHEREAS, We have outlived wage and property system; and whereas, the
 right of property requires more effort to adjust it between man and
 man than to produce and distribute it:

 _Resolved_, That property rights should no longer be maintained or
 respected, and that all useless workers should be deprived of useless
 employment and required to engage in productive industry; and as this
 is impossible under the payment system,

 _Resolved_, That no man shall pay for anything, or receive pay for
 anything, or deprive himself of what he may desire, that he finds out
 of use or vacant.

 _Resolved_, That whoever refuses to devote a reasonable amount of
 energy to the production or distribution of necessaries is the enemy
 of mankind and ought to be so treated; and so of the willful waster.

 As this system cannot be introduced as against existing ignorance and
 selfishness without force, _Resolved_, That, when introduced, the good
 of mankind and the saving of blood requires that forcible opposition
 shall be dealt with summarily; but that no one should be harmed for
 holding opposite opinions.

 _Resolved_, That our policy is wise, humane and practical and ought to
 be enforced at the earliest possible moment.

 As an expression of thankfulness, _Resolved_, That we are thankful we
 have learned the true cause of poverty and the remedies, and can only
 be more thankful when the remedy is applied.

The next speaker was Samuel Fielden. He denounced the hypocrisy of
calling upon people to thank God for prosperity, while providing no
changes for the better, when so many people were in actual want in
the midst of abundance. When he was a boy, his mother had taught
him to say, “Our Father who art in Heaven,” but so far as he knew,
God remained there and would not come here until things were better
arranged. “Our motto is, Liberty, Equality and Fraternity, embracing
all men. Our international movement is to unite all countries and to do
away with the robber class.”

August Spies spoke. Pointing to the black flag, he said it was the
first time the emblem of hunger and starvation had been unfurled on
American soil. He said we had got to strike down these robbers who were
robbing the working people.

In answer to a call from the Germans, Mr. Schwab spoke in German a few
minutes. A stranger said: “Get your guns out and go for them. That
is all I have got to say.” Three cheers were given for the social
revolution. The audience then formed a procession three thousand strong.

[Illustration: THE BOARD OF TRADE.

From a Photograph.]

Another notable procession was on the evening of the opening of the
new Board of Trade building. The Anarchists gathered in front of the
_Arbeiter-Zeitung_ office and were addressed by Parsons and Fielden.
The speeches were highly inflammatory. Parsons insisted that they
ought to blow up the institution, and urged them to arm themselves
“to meet their oppressors with weapons.” The Board of Trade, he said,
was a robbers’ roost, and they were reveling on the proceeds of the
workingmen. “How many,” he asked, “of my hearers could give twenty
dollars for a supper to-night? We will never gain anything by arguments
and words. While those men are enjoying a sumptuous supper, workingmen
are starving.” He characterized the police as bloodhounds and servants
of the robbing capitalists, and suggested that the mob loot Marshall
Field’s dry-goods store and other places and secure such things as they
needed. It was apparent that these sentiments appealed strongly to the
inclinations of the assembled rabble, and when Parsons had concluded
the mob was ready for an even more violent harangue.

Fielden went as far as to urge the mob to follow him and rob those
places, and, like Parsons, held that the Board of Trade building had
been built out of money of which they had been robbed, and that all who
transacted business in that place were “robbers, and thieves, and ought
to be killed.”

There were hundreds of tramps in the throng addressed, and naturally
all allusions to capitalists as robbers, and all suggestions to
plunder, were greeted with applause. A procession was formed, with
Oscar W. Neebe, Parsons and Fielden at the head, and with two women
following next carrying the red and black flags. They marched down
to the Board of Trade, but, arriving at the street leading to the
building, a company of police headed them off. Thus balked, they had
to content themselves with marching through the streets back to their
starting-point, where they separated without further exhibition of
violence than subsequently hurling a stone through the window of a
carriage occupied by a prominent West Side resident and his wife,
whom they took to be a millionaire on his way to the Board of Trade
reception. A tougher-looking lot of men than those who composed the
procession it would be difficult to find, and, once started in the
direction of violence at the building, there is no telling the extent
of damage they might have inflicted. The toleration of such a parade
by the municipal authorities was severely criticised by the community,
for, had it not been for the action of the late Col. Welter, then
Inspector of Police, in intercepting the procession, a serious riot
would have occurred.

Parsons, when asked subsequently why they had not blown up the Board
of Trade building, replied that they had not looked for police
interference and were not prepared. “The next time,” he said, “we will
be prepared to meet them with bombs and dynamite.” Fielden reiterated
the same sentiments and expressed the opinion that in the course of a
year they might be ready for the police.

       *       *       *       *       *

NOW WHAT is the Socialism or Anarchy they seek to establish? In his
speech before Judge Gary in the Criminal Court, when asked why sentence
of death should not be imposed upon him, Anarchist Parsons, among other
things, thus described the condition of affairs when Socialism should
obtain sway:

 Anarchy is a free society where there is no concentrated or
 centralized power, no state, no king, no emperor, no ruler, no
 president, no magistrate, no potentate of any character whatever. Law
 is the enslaving power of men. Blackstone defines the law to be a rule
 of action, prescribing what is right and prohibiting what is wrong.
 Now, very true. Anarchists hold that it is wrong for one person to
 prescribe what is the right action for another person, and then compel
 that person to obey that rule. Therefore, right action consists in
 each person attending to his business, and allowing everybody else to
 do likewise. Whoever prescribes a rule of action for another to obey
 is a tyrant, a usurper and an enemy of liberty. This is precisely
 what every statute does. Anarchy is the natural law, instead of the
 man-made statute, and gives men leaders in the place of drivers and
 bosses. All political law, statute and common, gets its right to
 operate from the statute; therefore, all political law is statute law.
 A statute law is a written scheme by which cunning takes advantage of
 the unsuspecting, and provides the inducement to do so, and protects
 the one who does it. In other words, a statute is the science of
 rascality or the law of usurpation. If a few sharks rob mankind of
 all the earth,—turn them all out of house and home, make them ragged
 slaves and beggars, and freeze and starve them to death,—still
 they are expected to obey the statute because it is sacred. This
 ridiculous nonsense, that human laws are sacred, and that if they are
 not respected and continued we cannot prosper, is the stupidest and
 most criminal nightmare of the age. Statutes are the last and greatest
 curse of men, and, when destroyed, the world will be free.... The
 statute law is the great science of rascality, by which alone the few
 trample upon and enslave the many. There are natural laws provided
 for every work of man. Natural laws are self-operating. They punish
 all who violate them, and reward all who obey them. They cannot be
 repealed, amended, dodged or bribed, and it costs neither time, money
 nor attention to apply them. It is time to stop legislation against
 them. We want to obey laws, not men, nor the tricks of men. Statutes
 are human tricks. The law—the statute law—is the coward’s weapon,
 the tool of the thief.... Free access to the means of production is
 the natural right of every man able and willing to work. It is the
 legal right of the capitalist to refuse such access to labor, and to
 take from the laborer all the wealth he creates over and above a bare
 subsistence for allowing him the privilege of working. A laborer has
 the natural right to life, and, as life is impossible without the
 means of production, the equal right to life involves an equal right
 to the means of production.... Laws—just laws—natural laws—are
 not made; they are discovered. Law-enacting is an insult to divine
 intelligence; and law-enforcing is the impeachment of God’s integrity
 and His power.

August Spies on the same memorable occasion gave his views of Socialism
in these words:

 Socialism is a constructive and not a destructive science. While
 capitalism expropriates the masses for the benefit of the privileged
 class; while capitalism is that school of economics which teaches
 how one can live upon the labor (_i. e._, property) of the other,
 Socialism teaches how all may possess property, and further teaches
 that every man must work honestly for his own living, and not be
 playing the respectable Board of Trade man, or any other highly too
 respectable business man or banker. Socialism, in short, seeks to
 establish a universal system of coöperation and to render accessible
 to each and every member of the human family the achievements
 and benefits of civilization, which, under capitalism, are being
 monopolized by a privileged class, and employed, not, as they should
 be, for the common good of all, but for the brutish gratification of
 an avaricious class. Under capitalism, the great inventions of the
 past, far from being a blessing for mankind, have been turned into a
 curse! Socialism teaches that machines, the means of transportation
 and communication, are the result of the combined efforts of society,
 past and present, and that they are therefore rightfully the
 indivisible property of society, just the same as the soil and the
 mines and all natural gifts should be. This declaration implies that
 those who have appropriated this wealth wrongfully, though lawfully,
 shall be expropriated by society. The expropriation of the masses
 by the monopolists has reached such a degree that the expropriation
 of the expropriateurs has become an imperative necessity, an act of
 social self-preservation. Society will reclaim its own even though you
 erect a gibbet on every street-corner. And Anarchism, this terrible
 “ism,” deduces that under a coöperative organization of society,
 under economic equality and individual independence, the “state”—the
 political state—will pass into barbaric antiquity. And we will be
 where all are free, where there are no longer masters and servants.
 Where intellect stands for brute force, there will no longer be any
 use for the policeman and militia to preserve the so-called “peace and
 order.” Anarchism, or Socialism, means the reorganization of society
 upon scientific principles and the abolition of causes which produce
 vice and crime.

Michael Schwab, in his utterances before the same tribunal, held as
follows:

 Socialism, as we understand it, means that land and machinery shall be
 held in common by the people. The production of goods shall be carried
 on by producing groups which shall supply the demands of the people.
 Under such a system every human being would have an opportunity to do
 useful work, and no doubt would work. Some hours’ work every day would
 suffice to produce all that, according to statistics, is necessary for
 a comfortable living. Time would be left to cultivate the mind and to
 further science and art. That is what Socialists propose. According
 to our vocabulary, Anarchy is a state of society in which the only
 government is reason. A state of society in which all human beings do
 right for the simple reason that it is right and hate wrong because it
 is wrong. In such a society no laws, no compulsion will be necessary.

Samuel Fielden, standing before the same court, also dwelt upon
Socialism, saying:

 And it will be a good time, a grand day for the world; it will be a
 grand day for humanity; it will never have taken a step so far onward
 toward perfection, if it can ever reach that goal, as it will when
 it accepts the principles of Socialism. They are the principles that
 injure no man. They are the principles that consider the interest of
 every one. They are the principles which will do away with wrong; and
 injustice and suffering will be reduced at least to a minimum under
 such an organization of society. As compared to the present struggle
 for existence, which is degrading society and making men merely things
 and animals, Socialism will give them opportunities of developing the
 possibilities of their nature.

The platform of the International Association of Workingmen, indorsed
by the local organization, formulates the principles of Socialism as
follows:

 1. Destruction of existing class domination, through inexorable
 revolution and international activity.

 2. The building of a free society on communistic organizations or
 production.

 3. Free exchange of equivalent products through the productive
 organization without jobbing and profit-making.

 4. Organization of the educational system upon a non-religious and
 scientific and equal basis for both sexes.

 5. Equal rights for all, without distinction of sex or race.

 6. The regulation of public affairs through agreements between the
 independent communes and confederacies.

The above was published in the _Alarm_ of November 1, 1884, with the
following comment:

 Proletarians of all countries, unite. Fellow workmen, all we need for
 the achievement of this great end is organization and unity.

 There exists now no great obstacle to that unity. The work of peaceful
 education and revolutionary conspiracy will, can and ought to run in
 parallel lines.

 The day has come for solidarity. Join our ranks! Let the drum beat
 defiantly the roll of battle; workingmen of all lands, unite! You have
 nothing to lose but your chains; you have a world to win. Tremble,
 oppressors of the world! Not far beyond your purblind sight there dawn
 the scarlet and sable lights of the judgment day!

Such, in brief, are the aims of Socialism as expounded by its most
extreme representatives. The state of society they seek to establish
may be highly beneficial to a class which, under any conditions,
lacks sobriety, frugality, thrift and self-reliance; but just where
the general mass of humanity is to be bettered or elevated, socially,
morally or politically, is a point not satisfactorily explained. Their
theory may look well on paper, and their glittering generalities may
draw adherents from the ranks of the illiterate and the vicious, but a
condition of society in which there are no masters and no authority can
only lead to chaos. In a society “in which all human beings do right
for the simple reason that it is right,” there can be neither stability
nor permanence, unless human nature is recast, reconstructed and
regenerated. Human nature must be treated as it is found in the general
make-up of man; and therefore a society in which all special desires,
all ambition and all self-elevation have been eliminated, precludes
development and progress. It reduces everything to utter shiftlessness
and stagnation. In such a society there can be no incentive to great
achievements in art, literature, mechanics or invention. If all are
to be placed on an equal footing, the ignorant with the educated, the
dullard with the genius, the profligate with the provident, and the
drunken wretch with the industrious, what encouragement for special
effort? If you “render accessible to each and every member of the
human family the achievements and benefits of civilization,” holding
“property in common,” why should a man rack his brain or strain his
muscles in producing something which he expects to prove remunerative
to himself in some way, but which under the Socialistic state would
go to the financial benefit of all? Take away all incentive to
improvement, and you make life scarcely worth the living. Where the
state, or the “independent commune,” is to be entrusted with the
care and equal distribution of wealth and the employment of men, the
individual will give little concern for the morrow or for anything
beyond his immediate wants. What need he accomplish more than his
neighbor, since everything that is produced is shared jointly?

In the Socialistic society, every man might “work honestly for his own
living,” as Spies declares, but what would be the inevitable result of
a system in which the state or commune undertakes to see that all have
employment?

History does not leave us room for doubt. The various constitutions
of France recognized the right of the people to employment. It
was provided in 1792 that it was the duty of society to afford
such employment, and in the following year it was added that the
remuneration of the laborer should be sufficient to support him. This
doctrine was recognized until 1819, when it fell into “innocuous
desuetude,” and it was not revived until 1848. In that year a placard
appeared on the dead walls of Paris, to the following effect:

 The Provisional Government of the French Republic guarantees existence
 to the laborer by labor. It guarantees labor to every citizen. It
 guarantees that laborers may associate to obtain the profits of their
 legitimate labor.

In consequence of this proclamation the Government was appealed to,
and national work-shops were established under the auspices of the
Government. The establishments were open to all, but, as no one was
specially interested in their financial success, they soon proved
too great a drain upon the resources of the nation. Failure was the
result. In the assignment of work at the factories, skill and fitness
never entered into consideration. One workman was as good as another,
and the men, so long as they had the Government at their back, with
living guaranteed, did not bother much about the kind of article they
produced. The result was that inferior goods were thrown upon the
market, and purchasers were difficult to find. This speedily led to the
closing of the work-shops, and since then the French Government has
never maintained that society at large must operate work-shops for the
benefit of all. Any commune that undertakes the same task again must
similarly fail.

[Illustration: BANNERS OF THE SOCIAL REVOLUTION—II. FROM PHOTOGRAPHS.

1. “Down with all Laws.” 6. “Long live the Social Revolution!”]

Now, suppose that, in the new economic conditions, it should be
determined by the “independent communes” that wages should in a measure
be fixed according to the skill, ability and energy of the workingmen,
what sort of allotment would fall to the great body of workers?
Edward Atkinson, an accurate statistician of world-wide reputation,
has furnished the public with a compilation showing what each would
receive if the aggregate production in the United States were divided
among its inhabitants. The annual production, he calculates, of all the
industries of our country, does not exceed $200 per head of population.
This would give a total of $12,000,000. If this were divided equally
among families of five persons each, on a basis of a sixty-million
population, each family would have $1,000 per annum. But, as I have
said, suppose some families secure more than others, on account of
greater efficiency, and that one-third of these families secure $2,000
each per annum. The remaining two-thirds would only secure an average
of $500. “Suppose,” it has been said, “one-half of this third to be
fortunate enough, or skillful enough, to increase their average to
$3,000. The remaining half continuing at $2,000, the average share of
the two-thirds would fall to $250, or $50 only per head, per annum.”

As Prof. Barnard, dwelling upon the facts to be deduced from Atkinson’s
showing, says: “Inasmuch as the idea of an average implies that as
many are below it as are above it, it is easy to see that the only
way of removing the scourge of poverty from the entire human race is
to increase the productiveness of labor so that want can only be a
consequence of willful idleness, or improvidence, or vice.”

In the “wonderful readjustment” of wealth and the products of labor
Socialists propose to inaugurate, there would be everywhere more
misery, more poverty and more crime than the people are now contending
with in the purlieus of London and Paris. That there is room for
improvement in the condition of our social state is true, but that
changes for the better can be obtained by Socialism and by means of
violence is false. These social as well as governmental improvements
can only be brought about by peaceable means. Never by force, as the
logic of events demonstrated in the Cook County Jail. There is no
question that crack-brained theorists will continue to spring up and
exist. They have existed in the past. The Babeufs, the Lassalles, the
Fouriers and the Karl Marxes may continue to preach their one-sided
ideas, but universal education in the United States and the general
morality of the masses may be safely counted upon as a guaranty that
neither the gospel of violence nor isolated cases of bloodshed will
ever succeed in establishing exploded and ruinous theories of politics.

[Illustration: A GROUP OF ANARCHISTS.

 From a Photograph.—The central figure is that of a man in the uniform
 of the Lehr und Wehr Verein. The reclining figure in foreground is
 Moritz Neff, proprietor of Neff’s Hall.]

AFTER the Socialists of Chicago had organized their military companies,
it soon became evident that they intended to use their forces against
organized society, and as they paraded them before the community on all
public occasions as a menace to good order, the Illinois Legislature
in 1879 settled their status effectually by adopting a law prohibiting
armed forces in the State except those willing to swear to support
the institutions of the State as well as of the nation, or to become
members of the State militia. It was also made a punishable offense for
any body of men to assemble with arms, drill or parade within the State
without authority. The Socialists were not seeking State honors, and
they took an appeal to the State Supreme Court on the ground that the
legislative act was unconstitutional. They were beaten, and accordingly
forced to abandon their ten companies.

From carrying arms, however, they soon turned their attention to the
study of explosives. They began experiments at once, and some years
later boldly urged their adherents to become adepts in the manufacture
and use of the most approved explosive—dynamite.

In the _Alarm_ of October 18, 1884, the following was published:

 One man armed with a dynamite bomb is equal to one regiment of
 militia, when it is used at the right time and place. Anarchists are
 of the opinion that the bayonet and Gatling gun will cut but sorry
 part in the social revolution. The whole method of warfare has been
 revolutionized by latter-day discoveries of science, and the American
 people will avail themselves of its advantages in the conflict with
 upstarts and contemptible braggarts who expect to continue their
 rascality under the plea of preserving law and order.

The same paper, in its issue of November 1, 1884, contained this
pronunciamento:

 How can all this be done? Simply by making ourselves masters of the
 use of dynamite, then declaring we will make no further claim to
 ownership in anything, and deny every other person’s right to be the
 owner of anything, and administer instant death, by any and all means,
 to any and every person who attempts to continue to claim personal
 ownership in anything. This method, and this alone, can relieve the
 world of this infernal monster called the “right of property.”

 Let us try and not strike too soon, when our numbers are too small, or
 before more of us understand the use and manufacture of the weapons.

 To avoid unnecessary bloodshed, confusion and discouragement, we must
 be prepared, know why we strike and for just what we strike, and then
 strike in unison and with all our might.

 Our war is not against men, but against systems; yet we must prepare
 to kill men who will try to defeat our cause, or we will strive in
 vain.

 The rich are only worse than the poor because they have more power to
 wield this infernal “property right,” and because they have more power
 to reform, and take less interest in doing so. Therefore, it is easy
 to see where the bloodiest blows must be dealt.

 We can expect but few or no converts among the rich, and it will be
 better for our cause if they do not wait for us to strike first.

Again, on February 21, 1885, from the same paper:

 The deep-rooted, malignant evil which compels the wealth-producers to
 become the independent hirelings of a few capitalistic czars, can not
 be reached by means of the ballot.

 The ballot can be wielded by free men alone; but slaves can only
 revolt and rise in insurrection against their despoilers.

 Let us bear in mind the fact that here in America, as elsewhere,
 the worker is held in economic bondage by the use of force, and the
 employment of force, therefore, becomes a necessity to his economic
 preservation. Poverty can’t vote!

In the same issue also appeared the following:

 Dynamite! Of all the good stuff, this is the stuff. Stuff several
 pounds of this sublime stuff into an inch pipe (gas or water pipe),
 plug up both ends, insert a cap with a fuse attached, place this in
 the immediate neighborhood of a lot of rich loafers who live by the
 sweat of other people’s brows, and light the fuse. A most cheerful and
 gratifying result will follow. In giving dynamite to the downtrodden
 millions of the globe science has done its best work. The dear stuff
 can be carried in the pocket without danger, while it is a formidable
 weapon against any force of militia, police or detectives that may
 want to stifle the cry for justice that goes forth from the plundered
 slaves. It is something not very ornamental, but exceedingly useful.
 It can be used against persons and things. It is better to use it
 against the former than against bricks and masonry. It is a genuine
 boon for the disinherited, while it brings terror and fear to the
 robbers. A pound of this good stuff beats a bushel of ballots all
 hollow, and don’t you forget it! Our law-makers might as well try to
 sit down on the crater of a volcano or a bayonet as to endeavor to
 stop the manufacture and use of dynamite. It takes more justice and
 right than is contained in laws to quiet the spirit of unrest.

In the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ of March 19, 1886, appeared the following,
after many articles had been previously published of the same tenor as
those in the _Alarm_:

 The only aim of the workingman should be the liberation of mankind
 from the shackles of the existing damnable slavery. Here, in America,
 where the workingman possesses yet the freedom of meeting, of speech,
 and of the press, most should be done for the emancipation of
 suffering mankind. But the press gang and the teachers in the schools
 do all in their power to keep the people in the dark. Thus everything
 tends to degrade mankind more and more, from day to day, and this
 effects a “beastening,” as is observable with Irishmen, and more
 apparent, even, with the Chinese.

 If we do not soon bestir ourselves for a bloody revolution, we can
 not leave anything to our children but poverty and slavery. Therefore
 prepare yourselves, in all quietness, for the revolution.

The following extracts are from the first number of the _Anarchist_,
Engel’s paper, dated January 1, 1886, with the motto, “All government
we hate”:

 Workingmen and fellows: We recognize it our duty to contend against
 existing rule, but he who would war successfully must equip himself
 with all implements adapted to destroy his opponents and secure
 victory. In consideration thereof we have resolved to publish the
 _Anarchist_ as a line in the fight for the disinherited. It is
 necessary to disseminate Anarchistic doctrine. As we strive for
 freedom from government we advocate the principle of autonomy, in
 this sense: We strive towards the overthrow of the existing order,
 that an end may be put to the “abhorrent work of destruction on the
 part of mankind, and fratricide done away.” The equality of all,
 without distinction of race, color or nationality, is our fundamental
 principle, thus ending rule and servitude. We reject reformatory
 endeavors as useless play, adding to the derision and oppression of
 the workingmen. Against the never-to-be-satisfied ferocity of capital
 we recommend the radical means of the present age. All endeavors of
 the working classes not aiming at the overthrow of existing conditions
 of ownership and at complete self-government are to us reactionary.
 The idea of the absence of authority warrants that we will carry on a
 fight of principles only....

 No one can deny that man brings with him into the world the right to
 live. But this is denied by the property beast. He who has the whip
 of power will brandish it over the poor. What does the world offer to
 the poor who are compelled to carry on a mere struggle for existence?
 Patented machinery, combined with capital and other means of
 preservation, denies work to the workmen on account of the excessive
 offer of working powers. Workingmen should, therefore, enter the ranks
 of those who propose to set aside the present system of inequality
 and build up a system of equality and freedom. Let every one join the
 International Workingmen’s Association, and arm himself with the best
 weapons of modern times....

 The authorities in America have hitherto refused to prosecute
 Anarchists as the European powers do, not because of hatred to
 despotism, but from fear that the American people might be driven
 into Anarchism. As Anarchists increase, however, it is intended to
 do away with them by slow degrees. To this end a bill was introduced
 in Congress refusing to and revoking citizenship of such. Yet
 the Anarchist declines citizenship because he regards himself as
 cosmopolitan. We hope for more foolish things to open the eyes of
 American workingmen....

 _Reflections of an Anarchist at the Grave of Leiske._—After the
 workingman becomes a journeyman he feels free, casts a glance into the
 world—it is glorious, beautiful. He thinks there is happiness for him
 somewhere. He proposes to go abroad, but a terrible cry falls upon his
 ears—the outcry of a tormented people. He inquires, have the pariahs
 of to-day a right to live? and answers yes. Why otherwise born, if
 suffered to die with hunger? And hunger and poverty are the results of
 the stealings of the rich. Having thus concluded, he swears to help in
 the work of liberation, “in the great struggle of mankind for a better
 condition;” to take vengeance upon those responsible for this misery.
 In his investigations he learns the utter vileness of the police
 power, and a policeman is killed. Whereupon the workman is arrested,
 charged with the murder of Rumpf, and killed after nearly a year of
 most devilish torture. With what contempt Leiske met his executioners,
 and with what heroism he went unto his death, is known to our fellows,
 and he shall be avenged.

The _Alarm_, January 13, 1885:

 “Force the only defense against injustice and oppression.” Because
 the Socialists advocate resistance, they are accused of brutality and
 want of wisdom. All men agree that themselves should not be trampled
 upon by others. If you can compel a man to agree to allow others to
 exercise control over him, you will find that the soldier will soon
 claim all you have acquired for yourselves. This only teaches that
 it is dangerous for the wicked to teach war; not so with justice.
 Justice can never create opposition to itself. Therefore “justice is
 always safe in accumulating force, while injustice can only accumulate
 force at its peril.” We are told force is cruel, but this is only true
 when the opposition is less cruel. If the opposition is relentless
 power, starving, freezing, etc., and the application of force will
 require less suffering, then force is humane. Therefore we say that
 dynamite is both humane and economical. It will, at the expense of
 less suffering, prevent more. It is not humane to compel ten persons
 to starve to death, when the execution of five persons would prevent
 it. A system that is starving and freezing tens of thousands of little
 children, in the midst of a world of plenty, cannot be defended
 against dynamiters on the ground of humanity. If every child that
 starved to death in the United States were retaliated for by the
 execution of a rich man in his own parlor, the brutal system of wage
 property would not last six weeks. It is a wonder that a father, after
 his vain search for bread, can see his little ones starve or freeze,
 without striking that vengeful, just and bloody blow at the cause that
 would prevent other little ones suffering a similar fate. It is not
 probable that men will always endure this cruel, relentless process of
 monopoly and competition.

 The privileged class use force to perpetuate their power, and the
 despoiled workers must use force to prevent it.

The _Alarm_, July 25, 1885:


STREET FIGHTING.

 _How to Meet the Enemy.—Some Valuable Hints for the Revolutionary
 Soldiers.—What an Officer of the United States Army has to Say._

 The following letter, published in the San Francisco _Truth_ some time
 ago, will be read with interest. The letter is quoted as follows, in
 substance: “I am an officer in the army of the United States, and know
 whereof I write. John Upton said to me, with great earnestness, that
 the day of armies is passing away. I believe this. This introduces
 my subject. I desire to place the details of the science of butchery
 before the people; to point out its weak points, so that in future
 uprisings the people may stand some chance of winning. They have
 for the past twenty years been overcome only because of their own
 ignorance. They have been slaughtered and subdued because of a lack
 of coolness, want of knowledge, and adherence to what is called
 ‘humanity,’ ‘honorable warfare,’ etc. I assume that my readers agree
 with me that against tyrants all means are legitimate, and that in war
 that course is best, though bloodiest, which soonest ends the contest.
 My purpose is to persuade the people to add a little common sense in
 future to their heroism, and thus insure success.

 [Illustration: 1. “The greatest crime these days is Poverty.”

 2. “UNITED WE STAND DIVIDED WE FALL!”

 3. “Millions work for the benefit of the few. Let us work for
 ourselves.”

 4. “Dick Oglesby who murdered 3 poor workingmen in lemont is not in
 this procession (You can see him later.)”

 5. “Carter Harrison who clubbed out citizens during the carmens strike
 is not in this procession (You can see him later.)”

 6. This is a bit of doggerel directed against the capitalistic press,
 and in advocacy of the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ and of Johann Most’s paper,
 _Die Freiheit_.

 7. “Proletarians of all lands, unite.”

 8. This is a bit of Socialist “poetry” expatiating on the efficacy of
 the “boycott.”

 BANNERS OF THE SOCIAL REVOLUTION—III. FROM PHOTOGRAPHS.]

 “United States and State regiments are organized on the unit of four,
 which permits the most rapid and effective change of front that can be
 devised. The art of war consists in making soldiers fight. The line
 of retreat must be kept open to avoid capture. In future revolts the
 people shall assume the aggressive. Army officers have wasted years
 of study over the science of street fighting, unavailingly. The plan
 below shows a method adopted as best. The troops are formed on the
 street in two bodies in column of four, headed by a Gatling gun. On
 the sidewalk a line of skirmishers and sharpshooters, whose duty it is
 to fire into the houses, the whole advancing cautiously. When a cross
 street is reached, a company is left to hold it, in order to keep
 open the avenue of retreat. Military knowledge has become popularized
 since 1877, and now, in almost any contest, it would be easy to find
 some fair leaders of the people who would devise some means of meeting
 such an advance, as indicated by the following diagram. The diagram
 represents a street corner. The plan is, at the street crossing to
 have bodies of revolutionists with movable barracks placed obliquely
 on the cross street, and who from there will fire vigorously upon
 the advancing column. They have supporters also in the building,
 also at the corner, whose duty is to throw dynamite upon the troops.
 If the position is carried, the party defending escape through the
 cross streets. The rear of the column can also be attacked from the
 cross streets. If the men in the barricades are armed with the new
 international dynamite rifle (which I am told exists in the hands of
 the revolutionists), I give it as a careful technical opinion, that,
 pursuing these tactics under brave and able leaders, fifty men can
 hold at bay and finally destroy in any of your cities an attacking
 force of five thousand troops.” Signed “R. S. S.” Alcatraz Island,
 December 8.

The _Alarm_, December 26, 1885:

 _Bakounine’s Groundwork for the Social Revolution.—A Revolutionist’s
 Duty to Himself. (Free translation from the German.)_

 1. The revolutionist is self-offered; has no personal interest, but is
 absorbed by the one passion, the revolution.

 2. He is at war with the existing order of society and lives to
 destroy it.

 3. He despises society in its present form and leaves its
 reorganization to the future, himself knowing only the science of
 destruction. He studies mathematics, chemistry, etc., for this
 purpose. The quick and sure overthrow of the present unreasonable
 order is his object.

 4. He despises public sentiment and acknowledges as moral whatever
 favors the revolution; as criminal whatever opposes it.

 5. He is consecrated; he will not spare, nor does he expect mercy.
 Between him and society reigns the war of death or life.

 6. Stringent with himself, he must be stringent with others. All
 sentiment must be suppressed by his passion for the revolutionary
 work. He must be ready to die and to kill.

 7. He excludes romance and sentiment and also personal hatred
 and revenge; never obeying his personal inclinations, but his
 revolutionary duty.


_Toward his Comrades._

 8. His friendship is only for his comrade, and is measured by that
 comrade’s usefulness in the practical work of the revolution.

 9. As to important affairs, he must consult with his comrades, but in
 execution depend upon himself. Each must be self-operating, and must
 ask help only when imperatively necessary.

 10. He shall use himself and his subordinates as capital to be used
 for the work of revolution, but no part of which can he dispose of
 without the consent of the persons involved.

 11. If a comrade is in danger, he shall not consider his personal
 feelings, but the interest of the cause.


_His Duty toward Society._

 12. A new candidate can be taken into the company only after proof of
 his merit, and upon unanimous consent.

 13. He lives in a so-called civilized world because he believes in
 its speedy destruction. He clings to nothing as it now is, and does
 not hesitate to destroy any institution. He is no revolutionist if
 arrested by personal ties.

 14. He must obtain entrance everywhere, even in the detective agency
 and the emperor’s palace.

 15. The present society should be divided into categories, the first
 including those sentenced to immediate death, the others classifying
 the delinquents according to their rascality.

 16. The lists are not to be influenced by personal considerations, but
 those are to be first destroyed whose death can terrify governments
 and deprive them of their most intelligent agents.

[Illustration: THE RED BANNER OF THE CARPENTERS’ UNION.

From a Photograph.]

 17. The second category embraces those who are permitted to live, but
 whose evil deeds will drive the people to open revolt.

 18. The third category embraces the dissolute rich whose secrets must
 be discovered in order to control their resources.

 19. The fourth category consists of ambitious officials and liberals
 whose purposes we must discover so as to prevent their withdrawing
 from our cause.

 20. The fifth category consists of doctrinaire conspirators; they must
 be urged to action.

 21. The sixth category is the women, who are divided into three
 classes: First, the brainless and heartless; second, the passionate
 and qualified; and, third, the wholly consecrated, who are to be
 guarded as the most valuable part of the revolutionary treasures.

The _Alarm_ of January 9, 1886, then edited, in the absence of its
editor and his assistant, by August Spies, contained this suggestive
editorial:

 “_The Right to Bear Arms._”—After the conspiracy of the workingmen,
 the working classes, in 1877, the breaking up of the meeting on the
 Haymarket Square, the brutal assault upon a gathering of furniture
 workers in Vorwaerts Turner Hall, the murder of Tessman, and the
 general clubbing and shooting down of peaceably inclined wage-workers,
 the proletarians organized the Lehr und Wehr Verein, which in about
 a year and a half had grown to a membership of one thousand. This
 was regarded by the capitalists as a menace, and they procured the
 passage of the militia law, under which it became an offense for
 any body of men, other than those authorized by the Governor, to
 assemble with arms, drill or parade the streets. The members of the
 Lehr und Wehr Verein, mostly Socialists, who believed in the ballot,
 made up a test case to determine the constitutionality of this act,
 rejecting the counsel of the extremists. Judge Barnum held the law to
 be unconstitutional—an appeal was taken—and the Supreme Court upset
 this decision and held the law constitutional. Thereupon the Lehr und
 Wehr Verein applied to the Supreme Court of the United States, which
 within a few days affirmed the decision of the Supreme Court of the
 State. Do we need comment on this?

 That militia law has had its uses. Where there was before a military
 body publicly organized, whose strength could be easily ascertained,
 now there exists an organization whose members cannot be estimated,
 and a network of destructive agencies of modern military character
 that will defy suppression.

The _Arbeiter-Zeitung_, February 17, editorial:

 In France, during strikes, etc., a new method is lately adopted. The
 workingmen barricade themselves in the factories with provisions,
 taking possession of the property, which the manufacturers desire to
 preserve, and will only resort to force for their ejection in the
 most extreme case. The conflict between capitalism and workingmen is
 growing constantly sharper, and the indication is that force will
 bring about decisive results in the battle for liberty.

The _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ of April 30:

 We are advised that the police are ordered to be ready for a conflict
 upon Saturday of next week. The capitalists are thirsting for the
 blood of workingmen. The workingmen refuse longer to be tortured and
 treated like dogs, and for this opposition the capitalists cry for
 blood. Perhaps they may have it, and lose some of their own. To the
 workingmen we again say: Arm yourselves, but conceal your arms lest
 they be stolen from you.

The _Arbeiter-Zeitung_, May 3:

 Courage, courage, is our cry. Don’t forget the words of Herways: “The
 host of the oppressors grow pale when thou, weary of thy burden, in
 the corner puttest the plow; when thou sayest, ‘It is enough.’”

The _Arbeiter-Zeitung_, May 4:

 Blood has flown. It happened as it had to. The militia have not been
 drilling in vain. It is historical that private property had its
 origin in violence. The war of classes has come. Yesterday, in front
 of McCormick’s factory, workmen were shot down whose blood cries for
 vengeance. In the past, countless victims have been offered on the
 altars of the golden calf amid the shouts of the capitalistic robbers.
 One has only to think of East St. Louis, Chicago and other places, to
 recognize the tactics of the extortioners. The white terror will be
 answered with the red, for the workmen are not asleep. They modestly
 asked for eight hours. The answer was to drill the police force and
 militia, and browbeat those advocating the change. And yesterday blood
 flowed—the reply of these devils to this modest petition of their
 slaves. Death rather than a life of wretchedness. The capitalistic
 tiger lies ready for the jump, his eyes sparkling, eager for murder,
 and his clutches drawn tight. Self-defense cries, “To arms, to arms!”
 If you do not defend yourselves, you will be ground by the animal’s
 teeth.

 The powers hostile to the workingmen have made common cause, and our
 differences must be subordinated to the common purpose. The statement
 of the capitalistic press, that the workmen yesterday fired first, is
 a bold, barefaced lie.

 In the poor shanty miserably clad women and children are weeping for
 husband and father. In the palace they clink glasses filled with
 costly wine and drink to the happiness of the bloody bandits of law
 and order. Dry your tears, ye poor and wretched; take heart, ye
 slaves; arise in your might and overthrow the system of robbery.

These are a few of the many articles emanating from the Socialistic
propaganda, calling the rabble to murder and destruction. Other
declarations printed in the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ and pronounced upon the
stump are in the same virulent spirit, couched in varying language as
suggested by the events of the moment, but all breathing defiance and
death to the so-called “capitalistic class.” There are also minute and
specific directions for the preparation as well as the use of dynamite,
Herr Most’s work on that subject having been largely drawn upon for
the enlightenment of those who believed that dynamite is the weapon
through the use of which the social revolution can be accomplished.
Paragraphs, sections and chapters of Bakounine’s “Groundwork for the
Social Revolution” were likewise read to the Socialists and published
in their organs.

[Illustration: ATTEMPT OF DR. NOBILING TO ASSASSINATE THE EMPEROR OF
GERMANY.]

Another source from which to draw inspiration was Reinsdorf, the
apostle of Anarchy in Germany. The Chicago Anarchists regarded him as a
splendid representative of their class, and praised his attempt on the
life of the Emperor of Germany. His death on the scaffold was regarded
as martyrdom, and his deeds were frequently extolled. His confederates
in conspiracy, Hoedel and Nobiling, were referred to in terms of praise
by George A. Schilling at a meeting in West Twelfth Street Turner
Hall. Louis Lingg had been personally acquainted with Reinsdorf, and
gloried in the man’s work and courage. The extreme section of the
Chicago Socialists always sought to inculcate his ideas, and that the
reader may gain some notion of Reinsdorf’s character, I reproduce the
following translation from a German Socialistic paper, showing his
career:

[Illustration: AUGUST REINSDORF.]

 He was the principal leader of all the Anarchists in Germany. The
 people looked upon him as the savior of their great cause. He was
 admired not only by men, but also by women. Wherever he went he was
 given great receptions, and he had many pupils.

 Reinsdorf was born in Prussia. When he became of age, he joined
 the party, and, by his good and rapid work, became in a short time
 the father of the Anarchistic agitation. But the law pursued him,
 and he wandered from state to state. In the year 1876 we find him
 in Switzerland, where he had many followers. One of his pupils and
 admirers was Max Hoedel, who with Reinsdorf conceived a plot to murder
 King William of Prussia. The attack upon his life was made by Hoedel
 on the 11th day of May, 1878. He fired several shots at the aged
 warrior, but failed, as none of them took effect. They missed their
 mark. Not satisfied with this, another man, Dr. Nobiling, also a
 pupil of Reinsdorf, made another attempt three weeks later, by firing
 a shot-gun filled with buck-shot at the old King; but again without
 effect. Nobiling’s deed was the consequence of Hoedel’s attempt, and
 Reinsdorf was the agitator. Failing in this, they concluded to wait
 some time until their party should get stronger and could secure
 better material. Among others Louis Lingg joined the Anarchists in
 Zurich. Louis was then very young, but he became as radical as their
 chief leader. The Socialists were to have held a Congress there
 in May, 1880, but the gathering did not take place, as the police
 had notice, and Reinsdorf and his followers were compelled to leave
 Zurich and go to Freiburg (Baden), where they held secret meetings
 and where Reinsdorf declared that he himself would go to Berlin and
 kill the miserable mahdi by stabbing him to the heart. He went to
 Berlin to carry out this plan, but was arrested by the police. They
 could not make out a case of conspiracy against him, but he was sent
 to prison for several months on the charge of carrying a dagger.
 After his discharge Reinsdorf traveled to and from Switzerland
 to Germany, France and Belgium, speaking in all places where he
 stopped, and gaining many followers. His only desire was to put old
 Emperor William (commonly called “old Lehmann”) out of the way—to
 do something great so that all the people would look up to him. His
 only targets were royal palaces and the palaces of diplomates. He
 and others then formed a plan to murder the King, and Bismarck, and
 all the princes and others who were to participate in the dedication
 of the Germania monument at Ruedesheim on the 28th day of September,
 1883. But Reinsdorf met with an accident while crossing a railroad
 track, and was severely injured. This was a very painful situation for
 Reinsdorf. The day for action drew near, but he was confined to his
 bed. Should this beautiful plan be given up on that account? Never!
 Could not other people accomplish what he had thought out? Certainly.
 But was it sure that they would have the necessary courage at the
 critical moment? Could he trust them? Tormented by such thoughts,
 Reinsdorf finally submitted to the inevitable and confided his mission
 to two of his comrades. He called these people to his bedside and told
 them what he wanted done. He presented his plan in detail. Rupsch
 and Kuechler—these are their names—pledged themselves to do what
 he desired. They started on the journey with the necessary material,
 reached Ruedesheim safely, and on the night of the 27th they proceeded
 to a spot not far from the monument, where the railroad runs near the
 edge of the forest. They filled a culvert with a large quantity of
 dynamite, put a fulminating cap into it and drew the fuse into the
 forest. It was raining at the time, and they covered the fuse with
 moist ground and tied the end of it to a tree, which they marked by
 cutting into it. They then returned to Ruedesheim. The next morning
 they returned to the place. The royal train came. Kuechler gave the
 signal; Rupsch held his burning cigar to the fuse. One moment of
 breathless expectation! The train passed, and the explosion—failed.
 Kuechler asked Rupsch about the failure. The latter showed that the
 end of the fuse had been lighted, but did not burn because it was
 damp. They did not give up hope, as the train had to return the same
 way after the ceremonies were over. A new fuse was attached. Again
 the royal party passed over the critical ground, where death had
 been prepared for them. Rupsch lit the fuse again, but it did not
 burn. An investigation afterwards showed that the fuse only burned
 a short length and then went out. They had followed all Reinsdorf’s
 instructions but one—instead of water-proof fuse they had supplied
 themselves with the common kind. With mutual recriminations, Kuechler
 and Rupsch took the dynamite from under the culvert and went back to
 Ruedesheim, where they got gloriously drunk. After they had sobered
 up, they returned to Elberfeld and reported to Reinsdorf, who already
 knew that his beautiful plan had miscarried. With great wrath he
 listened to them and said: “No such thing could have happened to me.”
 He thought there would be another chance. Then he would not be in the
 hospital, but could carry it out himself. His hopes were in vain.
 After his discharge from the hospital in Elberfeld, he proceeded to
 Frankfort-on-the-Main, where he was arrested. The police found out
 that he was an accomplice in the conspiracy, but, putting him through
 the sieve, they failed to get anything out of him, as he would not
 answer a single question. He said: “You may ask me as much as you
 wish, I shall not answer.” Bachman, one of his companions and an
 accomplice, escaped to Luxemburg, where he thought he would be safe
 from the law, but he also was arrested and extradited and sent to
 Elberfeld to keep Reinsdorf company, together with Rupsch and Kuechler.

 Reinsdorf and his accomplices were tried before the courts of Leipsic,
 and the trial lasted seven days. Bachman and two others were sentenced
 to ten years in the penitentiary. Rupsch got a life sentence, while
 Reinsdorf was sentenced to be beheaded. At his trial Reinsdorf was as
 stubborn as ever. He denied everything. When he was asked who he was
 he answered:

 “I am an Anarchist.”

 “What is Anarchy?” he was asked.

 “A company in which every sensible man can develop his ability. To
 permit this no one should be burdened with excessive labor; want and
 misery should be banished; every force should cease; every stupidity,
 every superstition should be banished from the world.”

 The presiding judge asked him if he was guilty or not, and to answer
 with “yes” or “no.”

 Reinsdorf answered with a steady voice: “I look upon this whole thing
 as a question of power. If we German Anarchists had a couple of army
 corps at our disposition, then I would not have to talk to this court.
 I for my part have nothing to say. Do with me as you please.”

 After the court had finished, Reinsdorf resumed his remarks and said:
 “The attempt at Niederwald failed because ‘the hand of Providence
 appeared,’ as the prosecution terms it. I tell you the awkward hand
 of Rupsch did it. I am sorry to say I had no one else at my disposal.
 I have nothing to repent, only that the attempt failed. At the
 factories the people are going to ruin merely for the benefit of the
 stockholders. These honest Christians swindle the working people of
 half of their living. My lawyer wanted to save my head, but for such a
 hounded proletarian as I am the quickest death is the best. If I had
 ten heads I would offer them with joy and lay them on the block for
 the good cause.”

 Before going to the scaffold, Reinsdorf ate a hearty meal, smoked a
 cigar, and sang a song. He walked steadily into the court-yard, where
 the scaffold was standing, guarded by a squad of soldiers, besides
 about a hundred other persons.

 “Are you August Reinsdorf?” asked the sheriff.

 “Yes, that I am.”

 The death warrant was then read and the royal signature shown to him.
 The executioner then bore him to the scaffold. Reinsdorf’s last words
 were: “Down with barbarism; hurrah for Anarchy!” The axe fell and the
 head was severed from his body.

 The atonement for the decapitation of Reinsdorf followed quickly. The
 sentence had hardly been carried into execution when, on the 13th of
 January, 1885, “the miserable Rumpff,” as they called him, was stabbed
 and killed by the hand of an Anarchist at Frankfort-on-the-Main. _Sic
 semper tyrannis._

With such an example of courage before them, and the revenge
his execution invited, it is almost needless to remark that the
bloodthirsty Anarchists of Chicago read with eager avidity anything
pertaining to their hero. Accordingly, in the _Vorbote_ of December 16,
1885, the following is to be found:


REINSDORF’S INHERITANCE.

 In the pamphlet about Reinsdorf there is a letter published which our
 great martyr wrote the day previous to his decapitation. We are able
 now to publish two other letters which Reinsdorf wrote at the same
 time, to his parents and to his second brother.

One letter reads as follows:

  HALLE, February 6, 1885.

 _My Dear Brother_: To-day is my last day, and I could not let it pass
 without writing to you to show you that I always remembered you with
 brotherly love. When you have read this letter I shall be one of the
 fortunates who are past and one of whom they can speak nothing but
 good. Now, my deeds, specially alleged against me before the courts,
 lie open before the world, and, although I am sentenced to death, I
 have the feeling that I did my duty; and this feeling it is which
 makes my last walk easy, to receive joyfully the everlasting sleep as
 something well earned.

 Dear August, you have often had trouble and sorrow, although you
 are in the blossom of life. People usually heed the words of one
 deceased more than the speeches of philosophers. I want to tell you
 a few words. Bear with strength, endurance and friendly submission
 the burden which you have laden upon yourself, and try to have
 satisfaction in it, so you can raise your children that they may be
 useful to you and an adornment to you. What would you gain by it,
 if you should participate in the good-for-nothing diversions of the
 people? Think, I could have done it, but I preferred the wandering
 existence of an Anarchist.

 When you, therefore, in years to come, look back upon the days of
 honest, peaceable labor done, and of hard duty fulfilled, then you
 will be filled with a joyful certainty and a quiet happiness that will
 repay you for all your sufferings. We still live, unfortunately, in a
 world of egotism and incompleteness, and only a few are in position to
 swim against the stream—even at the risk of their lives. You never
 did it. Good. So do your duty as the father of your family. Good-by.
 Accept a greeting from my heart for your wife and family, from

  Your brother,
  AUGUST.

The second letter is directed to his parents:

  HALLE, February 6, 1885.

 _My Dear Parents_: Take in silence what cannot be helped! Who would
 sacrifice their children, if not you, who have so many? Or should
 the wealthy do it, when it is the cause of the poor for which we
 fight? Or should we lay our hands in our laps and wait until others
 have sacrificed themselves for us? And is it such a great sacrifice
 I bring? Sick as I am, and with a prospect of long suffering, it
 should be looked upon as a blessing when such an existence is put to
 a quick death. And what an end is it? Whoever they are, progressive
 or reactionary, liberal or conservative, they all hate the Anarchist
 Reinsdorf. As they have condemned his doings, they cheer his death,
 the crown of a faithful, self-sacrificing man. But his steadfastness,
 in defiance of thousands of obstacles, no one can deny. And this shall
 be your consolation.

 How many have had to die for smaller causes? How many have lost their
 lives in dynamite conquests? Take all this in consideration and
 don’t let your hearts be made heavy through the babble of paltry and
 narrow-minded people. My last thoughts are of you and of brothers and
 sisters, and of the great cause for which I die. Deep-felt wishes
 fill my heart for the prosperity of every one of you. Greetings to
 my brothers and sisters, especially Carl, Emilie, Emma and Anna, to
 whom I could not write personally. Shake once more their hands for me.
 You and I embrace with all the love of childhood, and I greet you a
 thousand times. Good-by, all.

  Yours,
  AUGUST.

What Herr Johann Most, the present American leader of the
irreconcilables, thought of Reinsdorf, may be judged by the following
extracts from Most’s biography:

 From the 15th to the 22nd of December, 1884, eight workingmen, who had
 been captured in the war of the poor against the rich, were sitting
 in the dock, not to have justice passed upon them, but to await
 the sentence of might which the judges, acting as mouth-pieces for
 the ruling powers, had in preparation for them. The most prominent
 figure among these victims of a barbaric order of society was August
 Reinsdorf. To this man my little book is to be a tribute of esteem.

 I am well aware of the difficulty of my otherwise quite modest
 undertaking, to write a biography of the father of the Anarchistic
 movement within the territory of the German language, yet I hope
 to do the brothers near and far a service, for the time being at
 least, by sketching for them a likeness of a true hero of the Social
 Revolution....

 Indeed Reinsdorf was not an agitator of the common sort. Speeches
 delivered occasionally or written articles were to him only means to a
 higher purpose—incentives to _action_.

 Since he had recognized his ideal in Anarchism; ... since the
 necessity of the “_tactics of terror_” had dawned upon him
 in contradistinction to the tactics of petitioning, voting,
 “parliamenting,” bargaining, and of the peaceable and legitimate
 hide-and-seek practice—all his thinking and planning was directed to
 but _one thing_, he knew of but _one_ endeavor, he gave his entire
 being to but one motive power of the Social Revolution—that was the
 propaganda of action.

 [Illustration: JOHANN MOST.]

 In this regard he may be put beside the most noble conspirators of
 ancient and modern times....

 To be a revolutionist indeed, one must possess the faculty of thinking
 with the most acute clearness. But religious “fog” is the opposite of
 clearness of intellect. Yea, where religious nonsense has once taken a
 deep root, there every mental development is actually excluded, and a
 kind of idiocy formally takes its place....

 Quite different does the matter stand in the case of a “proletarian.”
 If he once recognize the old Lord God with his thunderbolt as an
 invented scarecrow which a shrewd gang of rascals have placed before
 paradise,—that man should not eat of the tree of knowledge, but that
 he should rather wait in patience for the roasted birds which, after
 his death, come flying into his mouth from a heavenly kitchen,—if the
 poor devil has learned to see that his namesake, too, wherewith they
 had tried to scare him previously, is also an invention of malicious
 swindlers,—then he soon applies the rule of the critic to the “high”
 and “highest” idols of earth. He loses respect for the so-called
 “Governments” and more and more learns to see in them a horde of
 brutal tormentors. These custodians of existing treasures attract his
 eye also to the possessors of the riches of the earth, and soon the
 question dawns upon him, Who has created all these things? The answer
 comes of itself. He and his like have done that. _To them_, therefore,
 belongs the whole world. They only need to take.

 _Thus_ the man, having cut loose from God, becomes the revolutionist
 _par excellence_.

 After Reinsdorf had succeeded in finding people who he thought were
 fit to take part in revolutionary actions and even risk their lives,
 he was also fortunate enough to discover a source from which dynamite,
 that _glorious stuff_ which will literally make a road for liberty,
 could be procured.

 And how did he die? Shortly before the moment of death, and while in
 the hands of the hangman, he cried out: “Down with barbarism! Let
 Anarchy live!”

 These are admonishing words, which no one should leave unheeded who
 marches under the flag of the Revolution.

 Well, then! Let us act accordingly! Away with all sentimental
 hesitation when it comes to strike a blow against State, Church and
 Society and their representatives, as well as against all that exists.

 Let us never forget that the revolutionists of modern times can enter
 into the society of free and equal men only over ruins and ashes, over
 blood and dead bodies.

 Let us rise to the height of an August Reinsdorf! Let us complete the
 work which he so boldly began! Only thus can we avenge ourselves; only
 thus can we show ourselves worthy of him; only thus can we conquer.

 Workingmen! Look down into the freshly dug pit. There lies your best
 friend and adviser, an advance champion of your cause, a martyred
 witness to the greatness of the Anarchistic idea. Live, strive and act
 as he! Anarchists, in your name I lay the well-earned laurel-wreath
 upon his grave....

 The retribution for the annihilation of Reinsdorf came rapidly.
 Scarcely had the sentence been spoken, and before it had been
 executed, the dagger of a Nemesis had already taken revenge. On
 January 13, 1885, the head of the German detective forces, the
 miserable Rumpff, was stabbed to death by the hand of an Anarchist.

 “_Sic semper tyrannis_—So be it to all tyrants!” was heard
 everywhere. With great satisfaction every honorable man, especially
 every man of work, experienced that Rumpff had to die because he was
 the cause of Reinsdorf’s death....

 The combustibles are heaped up. Proletarians, throw the igniting spark
 amongst them.

 Up with force! Let the Social Resolution live!

The revolutionists of Chicago appear more careful about exposing
themselves to danger than their foreign co-conspirators, and, while
counseling bloodshed, suggest ways of bringing about destruction with a
minimum of danger. In the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ of March 16, 1885, there
appeared the following editorial, suggesting the most effective way of
using dynamite:

 In all revolutionary action three different epochs of time are to
 be distinguished: First the portion of preparation for an action,
 then the moment of the action itself, and finally that portion of
 time which follows the deed. All these portions of time are to be
 considered one after another.

 In the first place, a revolutionary action should succeed. Then as
 little as possible ought to be sacrificed,—that is, in other words,
 the danger of discovery ought to be weakened as much as possible, and,
 if it can be, should be reduced to naught. This calls for one of the
 most important tactical principles, which briefly might be formulated
 in the words: Saving of the combatants. All this constrains us to
 further explain the measures of organization and tactics which must be
 taken into consideration in such an action.

 Mention was made of the danger of discovery. That is, in fact, present
 in all three of the periods of conflict. This danger is imminent
 in the preparation of the action itself, and finally, after the
 completion thereof. The question is now, How can it be met?

 If we view the different phases of the development of a deed, we have,
 first, the time of preparation.

 It is easily comprehensible for everybody that the danger of discovery
 is the greater the more numerous the mass of people or the group is
 which contemplates a deed, and _vice versa_. On the other hand, the
 threatening danger approaches the closer the better the acting persons
 are known to the authorities of the place of action, and _vice versa_.
 Holding fast to this, the following results:

 In the commission of a deed, a comrade who does not live at the
 place of action—that is, a comrade of some other place—ought, if
 possibility admits, to participate in the action; or, formulated
 differently, a revolutionary deed ought to be enacted where one is not
 known.

 A further conclusion which may be drawn from what was mentioned is
 this:

 Whoever is willing to execute a deed has, in the first place, to put
 the question to himself, whether he is able, or not, to carry out
 the action by himself. If the former is the case, let him absolutely
 initiate no one into the matter and let him act alone; but if that is
 not the case, then let him look, with the greatest care, for just so
 many fellows as he must have, absolutely—not one more nor less; with
 these let him unite himself into a fighting group.

 The founding of special groups of action or of war is an absolute
 necessity. If it were attempted to make use of an existing group to
 effect an action, discovery of the deed would follow upon its heels,
 if it came to a revolutionary action at all, which would be very
 doubtful. It is especially true in America, where reaction has velvet
 paws, and where asinine confidence is, from a certain direction,
 directly without bounds. In the preparation, even, endless debates
 would develop; the thing would be hung upon the big bell; it would
 be at first a public secret, and then, after the thing was known to
 everybody, it would also reach the long ears of the holy Hermandad
 (the sacred precinct of the watchman over the public safety), which,
 as is known to every man, woman and child, hear the grass grow and the
 fleas cough.

 In the formation of a group of action, the greatest care must be
 exercised. Men must be selected who have head and heart in the right
 spot.

 Has the formation of a fighting group been effected, has the intention
 been developed, does each one see perfectly clear the manner of
 the execution, then action must follow with the greatest possible
 swiftness, without delay, for now they move within the scope of the
 greatest danger, simply from the very adjacent reason, because the
 select allies might yet commit treason without exposing themselves in
 so doing.

 In the action itself, one must be personally at the place, to select
 personally that point of the place of action, and that part of the
 action, which are the most important and are coupled with the greatest
 danger, upon which depend chiefly the success or failure of the whole
 affair.

 Has the deed been completed, then the group of action dissolves at
 once, without further parley, according to an understanding which must
 be had beforehand, leaves the place of action, and scatters in all
 directions.

 If this theory is acted upon, then the danger of discovery is
 extremely small—yea, reduced to almost nothing, and from this point
 of view the author ventures to say, thus, and not otherwise, must be
 acted, if the advance is to be proper.

 It would be an easy matter to furnish the proof, by the different
 revolutionary acts in which the history of the immediate past is so
 rich, that the executors sinned against the one or the other of the
 aforementioned principles, and that in this fact lies the cause of
 the discovery, and the loss to us of very important fellow-champions
 connected therewith; but we will be brief, and leave that to the
 individual reflection of the reader. But one fact is established—that
 is this: That all the rules mentioned can be observed without great
 difficulty; further, that the blood of our best comrades can be spared
 thereby; finally, as a consequence of the last-mentioned, that light
 actions can be increased materially, for the complete success of an
 action is the best impulse to a new deed, and the things must always
 succeed when the rules of wisdom are followed.

 A further question which might probably be raised would be this: In
 case a special or conditional group must be formed for the purpose
 of action, what is the duty, in that case, of the public groups, or
 the entire public organization, in view of the aforesaid action? The
 answer is very near at hand. In the first place, they have to serve
 as a covering—as a shield behind which one of the most effective
 weapons of revolution is bared; then these permanent groups are to
 be the source from which the necessary pecuniary means are drawn and
 fellow-combatants are recruited; finally, the accomplished deeds are
 to furnish to permanent groups the material for critical illustration.
 These discussions are to wake the spirit of rebellion,—that important
 lever of the advancing course of the development of our race,—without
 which we would be forever nailed down to the state of development of
 a gorilla or an orang-outang. This right spirit is to be inflamed,
 the revolutionary instinct is to be roused which still sleeps in the
 breast of man, although these monsters, which, by an oversight of
 nature, were covered with human skin, are earnestly endeavoring to
 cripple the truly noble and elevated form of man by the pressure of
 a thousand and again a thousand years—to morally castrate the human
 race. Finally, the means and form of conquest are to be found by
 untiring search and comparison, which enhance the strength of each
 proletarian a thousandfold, and make him the giant Briareus, alone
 able to crush the ogres of Capital.

I have thus shown the manner and methods by which Socialism seeks to
gain a foothold in America. In their declarations of principles and
encouragements to violence, these agitators have proved themselves
traitors to their country or the country of their adoption, and
ingrates to society. They have sought, and are seeking, to establish
“Anarchy in the midst of the state, war in times of peace, and
conspiracy in open day.” They are the “Huns and Vandals of modern
civilization.”

As De Tocqueville says: “Democracy and Socialism are the antipodes
of each other. While Democracy extends the sphere of individual
independence, Socialism contracts it. Democracy develops a man’s
whole manhood; Socialism makes him an agent, an instrument, a cipher.
Democracy and Socialism harmonize on one point only—the equality which
they introduce. But mark the difference: Democracy seeks equality in
liberty, while Socialism seeks it in servitude and constraint.”



CHAPTER V.

 The Socialistic Programme—Fighting a Compromise—Opposition to the
 Eight-hour Movement—The Memorial to Congress—Eight Hours’ Work
 Enough—The Anarchist Position—An _Alarm_ Editorial—“Capitalists
 and Wage Slaves”—Parsons’ Ideas—The Anarchists and the Knights
 of Labor—Powderly’s Warning—Working up a Riot—The Effect of
 Labor-saving Machinery—Views of Edison and Wells—The Socialistic
 Demonstration—The Procession of April 25, 1886—How the
 _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ Helped on the Crisis—The Secret Circular of 1886.


WHILE the Socialists are bent on a revolution in the economic condition
of the working class, or, as they choose to term it, the proletariat,
they have conclusively shown that they do not desire to further that
movement by pacific means. Imbued with the doctrines of violence and
intent on the complete destruction of government, they do not seek
their end by orderly, legitimate methods. This fact has been most
thoroughly established by the extracts from their public declarations
which I have already given.

But if any doubts still exist with reference thereto, they are
completely dissipated by an examination into the attitude assumed by
the Socialists toward the labor problem as it exists at the present
day. It is not my purpose to enter into a detailed review of the whole
field. I will simply call attention to one fact, and in that fact one
sweeps the labor horizon, viewed from the Socialistic standpoint, as
the astronomer sweeps the heavens with his telescope, striking the most
prominent objects within the range of observation. This one fact is the
position of the Socialists toward the eight-hour movement.

It is generally known that many economists and agitators, with neither
affiliations nor sympathy for Socialism, have been contending for
years that with the rapid increase in labor-saving machinery and the
consequent displacement of labor, reduction in the hours of service
has become an absolute necessity. The points made in support of this
position are numerous, and as the most salient ones appear in a
memorial on the part of a National Labor Convention to the Committee on
Depression in Labor and Business of the Forty-sixth Congress, drafted
November 10, 1879, I may briefly quote a few. The memorial asked a
reduction:

1. In the name of political economy. “All political economists are
agreed,” they said, “that the standard of wages is determined by the
cost of subsistence rather than by the number of hours employed.
Wages are recognized as resulting from the necessary cost of living
in any given community. The cost of subsistence for an average family
determines the rate, and it is for this reason that single men can save
more if they will.”

2. In the interest of civilization. “The battle for a reduction of
the hours of labor is a struggle for a wider civilization.” With less
hours, more leisure is afforded for mental and social improvement. In
proof the memorialists appealed to the past and to the fact that one
day of rest in seven has raised the social condition of the people.
Besides, they urged, the “history of the short-hour movement in
England proved conclusively that every reduction of time in the United
Kingdom had invariably been followed by an increase of wages,” and the
consequent improvement of workingmen.

3. The changed relations between production and consumption demand
remedial legislation. A reduction of hours would give more men
employment. Under existing conditions, capital and production have
increased while the number of persons employed has fallen off.

These are doctrines one would think the Socialist, pretending to have
the interests of labor at heart, would unquestionably and heartily
indorse. Far from it. True to his nature as a social disturber,
disorganizer and malcontent, he sees in it a possible solution of
many labor troubles and the approach to a rearrangement of existing
conditions on a basis different from his own theories. When this
question arose in Chicago in the winter of 1885-86, the _Alarm_ entered
its most emphatic protest. In its issue of December 12, 1885, it had
this to say, under the heading, “No Compromise”:

 We of the Internationale are frequently asked why we do not give our
 active support to the proposed eight-hour movement. Let us take what
 we can get, say our eight-hour friends, else by asking too much we may
 get nothing.

 We answer: Because we will not compromise. Either our position that
 capitalists have no right to the exclusive ownership of the means
 of life is a true one, or it is not. If we are correct, then to
 concede the point that capitalists have the right to eight hours of
 our labor, is more than a compromise; it is a virtual concession
 that the wage system is right. If capitalists have the right to own
 labor or to control the results of labor, then clearly we have no
 business dictating the terms upon which we may be employed. We cannot
 say to our employers, “Yes, we acknowledge your right to employ us;
 we are satisfied that the wage system is all right, but we, your
 slaves, propose to dictate the terms upon which we will work.” How
 inconsistent! And yet that is exactly the position of our eight-hour
 friends. They presume to dictate to capital, while they maintain the
 justness of the capitalistic system; they would regulate wages while
 defending the claims of the capitalists to the absolute control of
 industry.

These sentiments were frequently reiterated by A. R. Parsons, who was
the editor of the _Alarm_; and in August Spies he found an energetic
ally. Among other things Spies said concerning the movement:

 We do not antagonize the eight-hour movement. Viewing it from the
 standpoint that it is a social struggle, we simply predict that it
 is a lost battle, and we will prove that, even though the eight-hour
 system should be established at this late day, the wage-workers would
 gain nothing. They would still remain the slaves of their masters.

 Suppose the hours of labor should be shortened to eight, our
 productive capacity would thereby not be diminished. The shortening of
 the hours of labor in England was immediately followed by a general
 increase of labor-saving machines, with a subsequent discharge of a
 proportionate number of employés. The reverse of what had been sought
 took place. The exploitation of those at work was intensified. They
 now performed more labor, and produced more than before.

The movement, however, took a firm hold of the laboring classes. They
saw in it a chance to secure more leisure, and, inspired by their
anti-Socialistic leaders, did all in their power to further it. There
were then in Chicago a great many unemployed, and under the plea that
a reduction in the hours of toil would not only give more time for
self-improvement, but necessitate the employment of many of the idle
throng, the leaders advocated its speedy introduction. At this time
the general sentiment prevailed that it was simply a movement for a
reduction in working-time, the question of wages not being involved.
Some few irresponsible talkers of the Socialistic stamp, it is true,
held out that it was to be a contention for wages as well, but the most
influential and conservative representatives of labor insisted that
they only wanted eight hours’ work for eight-hours’ pay. Grand Master
Workman Powderly held to the latter view and repeatedly urged the
members of the Knights of Labor not to go beyond that demand. He even
intimated a doubt if it were the part of wisdom and policy to undertake
at the time a strike of the kind, in view of the complications then
growing out of the Missouri Pacific Railway—known as the Gould
system—“tie-up.” Traffic and industry had been seriously affected
throughout the West by Martin Irons’ stubbornness, and it is evident
that Powderly had his misgivings about the outcome of an eight-hour
strike. However, the leaders continued their agitation, and it was
decided that the resolution adopted in 1884 by a number of trades
organizations in national session for an eight-hour strike on May 1,
1886, should be carried out in Chicago, as in other large manufacturing
and trade centers. Had this simple proposition not been “loaded,” the
result of the movement might have been different, but, as the time drew
near, it became quite apparent that, despite Powderly’s warnings, the
question of wages was to cut a leading figure. It was developed that
the demand for a reduction of hours was to be accompanied with a demand
for the same wages as under the old ten-hour system. This was the rock
upon which they subsequently foundered. Had they been content to accept
decreased wages and relied upon increased efficiency and skill and the
logic of events to secure increased pay in the future, they might have
scored many victories, if not a complete success.

But they were alike unmindful of Powderly’s advice and the teachings
of history. They seemingly forgot that the employers would naturally
resist any such sweeping concession, and that, as in other instances,
the unemployed would at once be installed, whenever possible, in
their places, and that in industries where there did not exist an
over-production, the capacity of machines would be more heavily taxed
and new machines would be introduced to do work hitherto done by hand.
A London publication has shown how, in recent years, in the extremity
of bitter strikes, manufactories have increased their labor-saving
machinery to offset the absence of their workmen and how invention in
the line of new machines has been greatly stimulated by a stubborn
conflict between employer and employé. Hon. David A. Wells has also
pointed out a similar result in this country. Identically the same
thing happened in several establishments in Chicago. The unemployed and
new machines were called into requisition whenever possible.

But labor-saving machinery need not necessarily be regarded as an enemy
of labor. That doctrine, which had its origin at the time when a riot
in Spain followed the introduction of a machine to make woolens, and
which continued until the invention of the sewing-machine, has in this
day come to be regarded by all enlightened economists as a nightmare
of the musty past. The fact is labor has been aided and benefited by
machinery.

Prof. Edison, the great inventor, is authority for the statement
that the increase in machinery and inventions during the last fifty
years has doubled the wages of workingmen and reduced the cost of the
necessaries of life 50 per cent. “For the first time in the world’s
history,” he says, “a skilled mechanic can buy a barrel of flour with a
single day’s work.” Hon. David A. Wells, in an article in the _Popular
Science Monthly_ for October, 1887, treating of the depression of
prices since 1873, also demonstrates the fact that the reductions,
which he states to be 30 per cent., during the time under his review,
are due to inventions. Edison goes still further in his statement
with reference to the enhancement of wages. He predicts, rather too
glowingly perhaps, that in another generation even “the unskilled
laborer, if sober and industrious, will have a house of his own, a
library, a piano and a horse and carriage,” with all the comforts that
these imply.

Anarchist Spies evidently took no stock in such a condition as the
result of new and improved mechanical appliances, for in his early
opposition to the inauguration of the eight-hour movement he declared
that “for a man who desires to remain a wage slave, the introduction of
every new improvement and machine is a threatening competitor.”

I have thus pointed to some facts bearing on strikes and wages because
it has since transpired that the Anarchists or Socialists, intent on
precipitating the “social revolution,” were the principal instigators
of the demand for ten hours’ pay for eight hours’ work, thereby hoping
to irritate the employers to determined resistance and the workingmen
of non-Socialistic ideas to the point of violence. Past experience was
cast aside under their clandestine guidance. While the movement was in
its infancy the Socialists, as such, held aloof, but, the moment they
saw that it was gaining strength and was likely to involve all the
wage-workers in the city, and that eight hours on a basis of reduced
pay might be secured, they perceived their opportunity to complicate
matters by the introduction of a demand for the old wages with reduced
time. This at once threw down the gauntlet. While before they had
opposed the movement, they now became active agitators in its behalf
and appeared more solicitous about its certain inauguration than they
were about its successful ending. Their organs bristled with incendiary
language. Their speakers could hardly find words strong enough to
fire their auditors in the demand for eight hours. They even got up
a procession under the auspices of the Central Labor Union, and, on
Sunday, April 25, 1886, paraded the streets with red flags and red
badges.

Among some of the mottoes displayed were: “The Social Revolution,”
“Workingmen, Arm Yourselves,” “Down with Throne, Altar and Moneybags,”
and “Might makes Right, and You are the Strongest.”

The procession massed on the Lake Front. There the leading speakers
were loud in encouraging the strike for eight hours. Parsons maintained
that “if the demands of workingmen were met by a universal lock-out,
the signal would be taken as one of ‘war, and war to the knife.’” Spies
declared that “the eight-hour day had been argued for twenty years. We
at last can hope to realize it.” Schwab and Fielden were alike emphatic.

The _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ likewise heartily indorsed the movement. In its
issue of April 26, 1886, appeared an editorial of which the following
is the concluding paragraph:

 What a modest demand, the introduction of the eight-hour day! And
 yet a corps of madmen could not demean themselves worse than the
 capitalistic extortioners. They continually threaten with their
 disciplined police and their strong militia,—and these are not empty
 threats. This is proved by the history of the last few years. It is a
 nice thing, this patience, and the laborer, alas! has too much of this
 article; but one must not indulge in a too frivolous play with it. If
 you go further, his patience will cease; then it will be no longer a
 question of the eight-hour day, but a question of emancipation from
 wage slavery.

In the same paper two days later the editor said:

 What will the first of May bring? The workingmen bold and determined.
 The decisive day has arrived. The workingman, inspired by the justice
 of his cause, demands an alleviation of his lot, a lessening of his
 burden. The answer, as always, is: “Insolent rabble! Do you mean to
 dictate to us? That you will do to your sorrow. Hunger will soon rid
 you of your desire for any notions of liberty. Police, executioners
 and militia will give their aid.”

 Men of labor, so long as you acknowledge the gracious kicks of your
 oppressors with words of gratitude, so long you are faithful dogs.
 Have your skulls been penetrated by a ray of light, or does hunger
 drive you to shake off your servile nature, that you offend your
 extortioners? They are enraged, and will attempt, through hired
 murderers, to do away with you like mad dogs.

When the eventful day—May 1—arrived, the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ became
more menacing than ever, and the following appeared:

 Bravely forward! The conflict has begun. An army of wage-laborers
 are idle. Capitalism conceals its tiger claws behind the ramparts of
 order. Workmen, let your watchword be: No compromise! Cowards to the
 rear! Men to the front!

 The die is cast. The first of May has come. For twenty years the
 working people have been begging extortioners to introduce the
 eight-hour system, but have been put off with promises. Two years ago
 they resolved that the eight-hour system should be introduced in the
 United States on the first day of May, 1886. The reasonableness of
 this demand was conceded on all hands. Everybody, apparently, was in
 favor of shortening the hours; but, as the time approached, a change
 became apparent. That which was in theory modest and reasonable,
 became insolent and unreasonable. It became apparent at last that the
 eight-hour hymn had only been struck up to keep the labor dunces from
 Socialism.

 [Illustration:

 1. Government is for Slaves Freemen Govern Themselves.

 2. Stairbuilder Union Chicago

 3. Every Government is a Conspiracy of the Rich Against the People.

 4. “We mourn the death of a workingman more than the death of a Gen.
 Grant.”

 6. “Down with Throne, Altar and Moneybags.”

 7. “Workingmen, arm yourselves.”

 8. “Every Government is a conspiracy against the People.”

 9. Not to be a Slave is to Dare and Do! (Vic Hugo.)

 BANNERS OF THE SOCIAL REVOLUTION—IV. FROM PHOTOGRAPHS.]

 That the laborers might energetically insist upon the eight-hour
 movement, never occurred to the employer. And it is proposed again
 to put them off with promises. We are not afraid of the masses of
 laborers, but of their pretended leaders. Workmen, insist upon
 the eight-hour movement. “To all appearances it will not pass off
 smoothly.” The extortioners are determined to bring their laborers
 back to servitude by starvation. It is a question whether the
 workmen will submit, or will impart to their would-be murderers an
 appreciation of modern views. We hope the latter.

In the same issue of the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ also appeared the
following, in a conspicuous place:

 It is said that on the person of one of the arrested comrades in New
 York a list of membership has been found, and that all the comrades
 compromised have been arrested. _Therefore, away with all rolls of
 membership, and minute-books, where such are kept. Clean your guns,
 complete your ammunition. The hired murderers of the capitalists, the
 police and militia, are ready to murder. No workingman should leave
 his house in these days with empty pockets._

The consummate inconsistency of the Socialists is thus no better
illustrated in what has already been shown than in their record in
Chicago. They have always been eager to jump on top of the band wagon,
to paraphrase a famous expression of Emery A. Storrs, when they thought
that it gave them a chance to join in the lead of the procession; and,
the moment they had a voice in directing the music, they led it beyond
the mere sentiments of a Marseillaise. Take each formidable strike in
the city, and invariably they have instigated the rabble to deeds of
disorder and violence. What care they for labor reforms accomplished
through peaceable agitation? It is only when a pretext is presented
for widening the breach between capital and labor, and hastening the
time for revolution, that the Socialists join in any movement looking
to the real benefit of labor. It is true, they have figured in labor
reforms, such as the agitation for national and State bureaus of
labor statistics, the abolition of convict labor in competition with
outside industries, the prevention of child labor in factories and
work-shops, the sanitary inspection of tenement-houses and factories;
but all these have been merely side issues to their one and controlling
purpose—Revolution. For appearance’ sake they have boasted of their
achievements in the lines indicated, but it is a fact of history that,
without the efforts of non-Socialistic labor, none of the reforms
so far accomplished would ever have been secured. The fact is that
Socialists and Anarchists are radically opposed to the whole wage
system and only join in the demands of law-observing and peace-loving
labor as a means to one end—opportunity for disturbance. For this
purpose alone they have become members of the Knights of Labor, and,
once in, they have proved an element of disorder and contention. So
pronounced had they become in fomenting trouble during the eight-hour
agitation that Mr. Powderly finally found it necessary to issue a
secret circular to the order in the spring of 1886. In that circular,
among other things, he said:

[Illustration: INTERIOR VIEW OF NEFF’S HALL.—From a Photograph.]

 Men who own capital are not our enemies. If that theory held good,
 the workman of to-day would be the enemy of his fellow-toiler on the
 morrow, for, after all, it is how to acquire capital and how to use
 it properly that we are endeavoring to learn. No! The man of capital
 is not necessarily the enemy of the laborer; on the contrary, they
 must be brought closer together. I am well aware that some extremists
 will say I am advocating a weak plan and will say that bloodshed and
 destruction of property alone will solve the problem. If a man speaks
 such sentiments in an assembly read for him the charge which the
 Master Workman repeats to the newly initiated who join our “army of
 peace.” If he repeats such nonsense put him out.

Wise words and well spoken.



CHAPTER VI.

 The Eight-hour Movement—Anarchist Activity—The Lock-out at
 McCormick’s—Distorting the Facts—A Socialist Lie—The True Facts
 about McCormick’s—Who Shall Run the Shops?—Abusing the “Scabs”—High
 Wages for Cheap Work—The Union Loses $3,000 a Day—Preparing for
 Trouble—Arming the Anarchists—Ammunition Depots—Pistols and
 Dynamite—Threatening the Police—The Conspirators Show the White
 Feather—Capt. O’Donnell’s Magnificent Police Work—The Revolution
 Blocked—A Foreign Reservation—An Attempt to Mob the Police—The
 History of the First Secret Meeting—Lingg’s First Appearance in the
 Conspiracy—The Captured Documents—Bloodshed at McCormick’s—“The
 Battle Was Lost”—Officer Casey’s Narrow Escape.


THE events immediately preceding the inauguration of the eight-hour
strike were remarkable in the opportunities they afforded Anarchists
for arousing workingmen against capital and stirring up their worst
passions. The leaders had already intensified the clamor for reduced
working-time, and only the occasion was needed to fully arouse the true
ruffianism behind the Socialistic rabble. This occasion was presented
in the troubles that grew out of the “lock-out” at McCormick’s
Harvester Works, and, as the facts in connection therewith are
necessary to a clear and comprehensive understanding of the situation,
I shall briefly review them. Before doing so, however, it may be well
to premise by saying that the real state of affairs in that trouble
was greatly exaggerated, and that, instead of dividing responsibility,
the Socialistic orators sought to throw the sole burden upon the
owners and managers of that establishment, charging them, in the heat
and excitement of the times, with gross violation of pledged faith
to the men employed, and instigating even violent resistance to the
installation of new men, or “scabs,” as they were opprobriously termed,
into the vacated places.

This so-called “lock-out” occurred on February 16, 1886, and through it
some twelve hundred men became idle. The Anarchists proceeded at once
to distort every fact in connection with it. The view they presented of
the affair may be best shown by the following extract from a history of
the Chicago Anarchists published by the Socialistic Publishing Society:

 The employés of that establishment had been for some time perfecting
 their organization, and at last had presented a petition for the
 redress of certain grievances and a general advance of wages. The
 dispute arose over an additional demand that a guarantee be given
 that no man in the factory should be discharged for having acted as
 a representative of his comrades. This was absolutely refused. A
 strike in the factory in the preceding April had been adjusted on the
 basis that none of the men who served on committees, etc., and made
 themselves conspicuous in behalf of their fellow workmen, would be
 discharged for so doing. This agreement has been wantonly violated,
 and every man who had incurred the displeasure of Mr. McCormick was
 not only discharged, but black-listed, in many cases being unable to
 obtain employment in other shops.

It thus appears that the Socialist leaders not only hoped to utilize
the strike to precipitate their revolution, but, by purposely
misstating the grievances of McCormick’s men, to engender a bitter and
violent feeling against that establishment. Now, what were the true
facts in the case? Along in February the employés in the works asked
for a uniformity of wages, the re-employment, as occasion demanded,
of all old hands, who had been out of work since the strike in April
preceding, and the discharge of five non-union men employed in the
foundry. Mr. Cyrus McCormick generously conceded the first two demands,
but firmly declined to discharge the non-union men, as he regarded
this as an interference with the company’s right of employing whom
they pleased. Thereupon the employés held a meeting and formulated an
_ultimatum_, in which they insisted upon the discharge as requested,
“not because,” as they said, “they wanted to abridge the privilege of
hiring and discharging, but because Foreman Ward threatened to pursue
old hands with such vindictiveness that he would drive them over the
‘Black Road,’ or else they would have to walk in their nakedness,”
and in justice to the old employés the non-union workmen ought to be
“thrown out.” Mr. McCormick took the position that this was an attempt
to dictate that only union men should be employed in the works, and he
finally declared that the company had always decided and always would
decide who were best suited to do its work, and whom or how many men
it would employ or discharge. If the concessions already made were not
satisfactory, he would close the works.

During the strike of the preceding spring, McCormick had done just what
other manufacturers had done in similar cases—introduced new machinery
to perform work hitherto done by hand. He had put in new molding
apparatus and had found that the new machines in the hands of ordinary
laborers, as soon as they learned to handle them, turned out daily far
more molds and more reliable ones than the old hand process. On the
outbreak of the trouble in February there were fifteen men employed in
the foundry,—ten old hands and five non-union men. The services of all
of them might thus have been dispensed with, since skilled labor was
not necessary, and, with the addition of more machines and a few raw
hands, just as much and just as good work, he claimed, might have been
produced. But the owners desired to favor the employés, and, having
granted a uniformity of wages even to the extent of advancing the pay
of ordinary labor to $1.50 per day, a sum greater than that paid by
similar industries elsewhere, and having promised to give preference to
old employés when additional hands were needed, they resolved not to be
dictated to by outside malcontents nor to discharge men who had done
efficient work for the company.

[Illustration: A STRIKE. THE WALKING DELEGATE SOWING THE SEED OF
DISCONTENT.]

The grant of such a request would, they held, be virtually placing the
management of the concern in the hands of outsiders. When, therefore,
the employés, instigated by the Anarchists, resolved to strike for
their demand, McCormick took time by the forelock and ordered the works
closed on and after nine o’clock on the morning of February 16, to
remain closed until the strikers decided to return.

[Illustration: GREIF’S HALL.]

By this “lock-out” the employés were deprived of $3,000 a day in the
shape of wages, that amount representing the daily payroll of the
concern. Meanwhile, pending the lock-out, the company canvassed the
possibility of an early resumption of business and quietly perfected
arrangements for that step, which they concluded to take on March 1.
Of course, this contemplated move enraged all the groups in the city.
The strikers in the vicinity of the factory were especially excited.
Ever since the establishment had closed its doors the neighborhood had
been infested with idlers and vicious-looking men. They had all felt
confident that the firm would be finally forced to submit, but when it
gradually dawned upon their minds that arrangements had actually been
made for a resumption of work without reference to the wishes of the
“outs,” they determined to prevent it by force. They were the first to
decide on violent measures, and they presented their purpose to the
members of Carpenters’ Union No. 1. The result was that two secret
meetings of the armed men of both unions were held between February 27
and March 3 at Greif’s Hall. The first meeting called out nearly all
the “armed men” of the Metal-workers’ Union and about one hundred and
forty men belonging to International Carpenters’ Union No. 1, some with
rifles, revolvers and dynamite bombs. They then and there formulated
a plan to prevent the “scabs” from going to work. The plan was that
the metal-workers should gather in the vicinity of the factory at
about five o’clock on the morning the works were to be reopened, well
equipped with bombs, rifles and revolvers. Those who did not possess
rifles were to secure revolvers and bombs, which could be obtained,
they were told, on Blue Island Avenue, between Twenty-second Street
and McCormick’s. At that place, on giving the pass-word and number
of the place, every member would be supplied. In the event of their
running short of ammunition, they were to repair to that place, and
they would find some one there always to wait on them. It was given out
that the place was run by the metal-workers, who would see to it that
all necessary bombs were on hand. Members having friends living in the
vicinity of the factory were to stay with them over night so as to be
up bright and early in the morning, and those living at a distance were
to make it a point to get up early enough to be on hand at the time
indicated. A point of _rendezvous_ was designated, and, when all had
arrived, they were to surround the factory and permit no one to enter
except on peril of being shot. This situation of affairs, they said,
would necessarily bring out the police, but the moment these should
arrive the “armed men” were to open fire. The first volley was to be
over the heads of the “blue-coats,” and if that did not put them to
flight, they were to be shot down without mercy. When they began to
throw bombs the “reds” were all to be in line, so that none of their
own number would be hurt by the explosions, and wherever the police
formed a company a solid front was to be presented and a rattling fire
maintained. They would also form different lines along the “Black
Road,” and when patrol wagons came to the rescue of the officers, they
were to hurl bombs at them.

It was to be a fight to the death. Every one agreed, as I was told, “to
die game, give no quarter, and see to it that the green grass around
McCormick’s factory was nourished with human blood.” In accordance
with the plan, the members of the Carpenters’ Union were to assemble
with rifles and ammunition at Greif’s Hall at an hour not later than
six o’clock in the morning, and to remain there until orders for
their services were sent. The carpenters carried out their part of
the programme, and at the appointed hour there were no less than two
hundred of them at the hall, fully armed and apparently ready for
any emergency. They scattered throughout the hall building so as not
to attract attention, and impatiently awaited orders or information
indicating the progress of affairs at the factory. But no orders were
received. They heard nothing for some time, but when they did they
were a happier lot of men. The clamor and excitement of the hour
had stimulated them with a false courage, but each had nevertheless
entertained a secret hope that there would be no call for a display of
their valor. And there was none.

It appears that, on the morning they were to have created such dire
destruction, the brave metal-workers overslept themselves! “There was
snow on the ground,” and probably they did not care to defile it with
the blood of their enemies. None of them appeared at the _rendezvous_
on time, and when they straggled around at a later hour they were
full of excuses, the one on which they principally relied being that
their faithful spouses had neglected to wake them in time. No one
for a moment charged the others with cowardice, and yet that was the
whole secret of their failure. Each had expected others to be at the
appointed place ready for the fray, but the unanimity with which all
had prolonged their slumbers prevented what all had expected to see—a
brilliant victory with themselves beyond all danger.

But about the time these braves should have been around according to
programme, another party occupied the field. It was the brave and
fearless Capt. Simon O’Donnell, of the Second Precinct, with two
lieutenants and three companies of well disciplined officers. They took
charge of the “Black Road” and the vicinity of McCormick’s factory
as early as six o’clock, and the so-called “scabs” passed into the
works, “with none to molest them or make them afraid.” When those who
had overslept sneaked around, one after another, they were perfectly
amazed. Where they had hoped to see the ground strewn with the dead
bodies of policemen, they found order and serenity.

In the expectation of seeing some disturbance, the vicinity became
crowded during the forenoon with idlers and curious people drawn from
all parts of the city. Seeing this throng and relying on the presence
of many Anarchists, the daring metal-workers revived their spirits and
hoped yet to precipitate a conflict by egging it on at a safe distance
in the rear. They accordingly began to utter loud threats and urge the
excited rabble to an attack on the “blanked bloodhounds,” the police.

There were in the crowd a lot of half-drunken Polanders and Bohemians
who, living in the neighborhood, claimed that the presence of the
police was a menace to their personal rights and privileges. The police
were on what these misguided people considered their own reservation,
and, with a view to driving them away, some began throwing stones and
clubs at the officers in the patrol wagons. Others picked out officers
apart from their companions and made them the targets for their
missiles. Captain O’Donnell learned, while this disconcerted attack was
going on, that many of the crowd had revolvers and dynamite in their
pockets. He speedily resolved on a plan for arresting and disarming
such men and gave orders to his lieutenants to surround the crowd
and search all suspected persons. The result was that the following
were found to have arms, and they were placed under arrest: Stephen
Reiski, Adolph Heuman, Charles Kosh, Henry Clasen, John Hermann, George
Hermann, Ernest Haker, Otto Sievert, Emil Kernser, Frank Trokinski and
Stanifon Geiner. Detectives from the Central Station assisted in the
search, and the offenders were taken to the Police Court, where they
were fined $10 each.

It was thought that this procedure would quiet the mob, but later in
the day the Anarchists again gathered around McCormick’s. The crowd
was again surrounded, and the following were arrested for carrying
concealed weapons: Louis Hartman, William Brecker, Julius Vimert, Peter
Pech, William Holden, Louis Lingg, Carl Jagush, Samuel Barn, William
Meyer, Rudolph Miller, John Hoben and John Otto. These were also fined.

[Illustration: A “ROUND-UP.”]

During this trouble at the factory a gang of Anarchists had gathered at
the Workingmen’s Hall on West Twelfth Street, and they had just formed
a procession to march out in a body to McCormick’s, when they were
surrounded and searched. In this “round-up” the great “Little August”
Krueger was arrested with a full uniform of the Lehr und Wehr Verein
under an overcoat, and a number of his comrades were taken in charge at
the same time. Many of them had dynamite bombs, and some one shouted
that “all brothers who had ‘stuff’ should get away and the others
should assist them.”

But the police were not to be trifled with, and some of the most daring
officers rushed into the thickest of the crowd, and succeeded in
gathering in several bombs. There were a number of women in the mob,
and some of these hid bombs under their petticoats. The officers were
of course too gallant to molest them. But the search and arrests served
to break up the procession and prevent further outbreaks at the factory
that day.

Such were the results of the plots of the first secret meeting. The
second secret gathering, a few days later, was held, as the former
had been, at Greif’s Hall. It was called by the metal-workers and
carpenters jointly. They were more demonstrative than ever. Gustav
Belz was accorded the distinction of presiding over the turbulent
members of the Carpenters’ Union. All of the carpenters belonging
to the Lehr und Wehr Verein, numbering one hundred and eighty men,
were present with their rifles, and they were loud for war. At the
same time the metal-workers had a gathering by themselves, and when a
delegation from them called on the carpenters and announced that they
were prepared to engage in battle that day, the carpenters’ assemblage
became delirious with excitement. They shouted and jumped about in
such a lively manner that some of the more conservative members were
obliged to warn them to quiet down or they would attract the attention
of the police. The hot-heads, enraged at this caution, retorted by
accusing the conservatives of cowardice. They refused to be quieted,
and, like Comanche Indians about to take to the war-path, they examined
their revolvers and brandished their guns. They even inspected the
fuse on their bombs, and insisted that they would be ready the moment
the command was given. In anticipation of blood, they screwed up their
courage by frequent libations; and the more they drank the happier they
grew over the prospect of speedy acquisition of wealth when once their
revolution was started.

It was an uncomfortable place meanwhile for the conservative members,
and these had frequent occasion during the stormy proceedings to regret
that they had uttered a word of remonstrance. But there was one who
did not allow his feelings to get the better of his judgment. It was
Balthasar Rau. He took the floor and said that, however much he desired
to fight and sweep McCormick and all other capitalists from the face of
the earth, yet he could plainly see that the time had not yet arrived
for commencing the revolution. It would be folly, he insisted, to go
out on the streets with rifles in hand while all the surroundings were
against them and while they were not generally prepared to cope with
the police and militia. To commence a general upheaval now would be to
destroy their prospects in the immediate future.

“Before you make war,” said Rau, “you must have something to fall back
on; but now we have nothing. We ought to have a treasury well filled.
If we inaugurate a fight we must expect that some of us will be killed,
others wounded, and others again arrested. Where is the money to help
those in distress? What will your families do if you are killed? You
must take all these things into consideration. It is very easy for us
to go out, shoot and kill somebody, but what can we expect to gain by
all that? We must be ready and prepared and protected.”

This speech had a soothing effect upon some, but Belz wanted blood,
and that immediately. He despised the capitalists, and the sooner
their blood was spilled the better it would suit him. The majority of
the meeting expressed a concurrence in Rau’s ideas, and one member
emphasized Rau’s remarks by saying that it would be like a man going
out on the streets, pounding another and then running away—nothing was
gained.

Belz, seeing the drift of sentiment, grew very angry, and he suggested
that some one move an adjournment to some other day, when they might
hope to get together a braver lot of men. Such a motion was made, and
the gathering separated, those that were not too drunk posting off at
once for home.

[Illustration:

  HYNEK DJENEK.      ANTON SEVESKI.

SPECIMEN RIOTERS—I. From Photographs taken by the Police Department.]

Belz grew quite demonstrative over the lack of results at this meeting,
and avowed that he would have nothing more to do with such a crowd of
cowards. A few days thereafter, however, another meeting was held;
but, in view of the many arrests Captain O’Donnell had made among
their members, they were unable to decide upon any business. Some of
the hot-heads threw all the blame on Rau and some of his friends for
having prevented decisive action when they might have hoped to come
out victorious. But all this sort of talk was simply braggadocio, and
had any of these loud-mouthed fellows been actually tried, they would
have been found skulking in the rear of an attacking party. Prior and
subsequent events proved them all trembling cowards when their own
personal safety was at stake.

Perhaps the most dangerous, because the most secret, figure in the
cabal at this time was Louis Lingg. He seems to have been chosen
especially to direct the revolutionary design in the southwest part of
the city, and his counsels permeated every Socialistic circle in that
section. In his trunk, after his arrest, the following letter was found
in his own handwriting, evidently a copy or the original of one sent:

 _Dear Brother Union_: On the occasion of the last general meeting in
 Zepf’s Hall the International Carpenters’ Union passed a resolution
 asking the Furniture Makers’ Union if they were satisfied with
 the doings of their delegates, especially with Mr. Hausch and Mr.
 Mende, who had agreed to take the leadership of the revolution....
 It is natural that the governing class would take these—their
 means—as soon as the workingmen would try to take their rights. In
 consequence of these facts we feel it our duty to call the attention
 of indifferent workingmen to these facts and suggest the adoption of
 force, power against power, and urge all to arm yourselves. Therefore,
 stand with all your energy against the system of profit without regard
 to the way they prepare themselves. We request our brother union
 to acquaint us with their point of view, so we can form our plans
 accordingly.

  With greeting and the shaking of the hand.

  INTERNATIONAL CARPENTERS’ UNION NO. 1.

Lingg likewise issued a personal address, a copy of which was also
found in the trunk, urging the laborers of the Southwest Side to
practice in the handling of arms. Among other things found written over
his signature, is the following:

 Our authorized demands are replied to with clubs, powder and lead.
 In consequence of these experiences it is no more than right that
 we adopt force and arm ourselves. The opportunity to arm yourselves
 cheaply can be ascertained from all well-known comrades, as well as
 armed organization, where you can find good places to drill. Don’t let
 this opportunity pass. The medicine dynamite, in leaden bomb, is more
 powerful than the rifle. Don’t forget the opportunity.

Lingg also sent another circular to his comrades in that section, of
which the following is a copy:

[Illustration:

  JOHN POTOTSKI.      FRANK NOVAK.

SPECIMEN RIOTERS.—II. From Photographs taken by the Police Department.]

 _Brothers_: As you have noticed for a long time past that the police
 are more than ready to break your heads with their murderous clubs
 and do not care whether they make you cripples for the balance of
 your miserable days, and do not care whether your wives and children
 have to go begging for you after you become useless; neither do
 they care for the loving young son that supports his old parents,
 whether they kill him or not: therefore, taking all these things into
 consideration,—that these policemen are ready, under the instruction
 of the capitalists, to commit murder on the working people,—I say
 we must resist these monsters, and the way we must do this is to
 get ready and be all like one man. We must fight them with as good
 weapons, even better than they possess, and, therefore, I call you
 all to arms! As we are no capitalists, we can make arrangements in
 a gun-factory outside of this State. Have this matter treated very
 confidentially. Have only a committee of three members to buy arms
 as cheaply as possible, and see if there can be anything secured on
 half credit, so that you can also give time to the buyer. In this way
 you can get all new and good arms and better than the police have.
 Then I call your attention again and impress on your minds that it
 is not alone enough that you have the arms; you must also understand
 how to use them so that you can be equally well drilled with them
 as your opponents. Then you can give them successful resistance.
 And now, to make this matter very easy and a success for all, the
 workingmen of this city, with the third company of the Lehr und Wehr
 Verein and some members of the International Carpenters’ Union, held
 a meeting yesterday, and they all agreed to give lessons in drill
 to any one that wanted to learn how to use arms. All the people so
 desiring should call every Thursday evening at 8 o’clock at Turner
 Hall “Vorwaerts,” on West Twelfth Street, and there they will receive
 instructions free of charge.

[Illustration:

  VACLAV DJENEK.      ANTON STIMAK.

SPECIMEN RIOTERS—III. From Photographs taken by the Police
Department.]

 I want you Southwest Side people to be as useful with arms as the
 people on the North and Northwest sides. We have everything about as
 complete as we wish it to be. On the North Side we have Neff’s or
 Thuringia Hall, No. 58 Clybourn Avenue, and you can come and visit us
 there and see the boys drill. We have a man named Hermann, and he is
 a soldier from the old home and a first-class drillmaster, and always
 pleased to see new recruits. Now, workingmen of the Southwest Side, I
 beg of you to make use of this opportunity. Do not let this go by like
 a dream. Remember, we are all one. It does not matter whether you are
 on the South, North or West Side; we must all fight for a purpose. Do
 not stay at home and let your brothers be killed when you can help
 them and make your cause a victory. Come in large masses, come often,
 come promptly. If you do this, everything will be an easy matter for
 us to undertake. Our labor will be rewarded.... The first of May is
 coming near. We will have to kill the monster. We must be ready to
 meet him. This is our only chance now. Probably we will not have this
 opportunity to meet the monster so that we can fight him with our
 weapons. You must kill the pirates. You must kill the bloodsuckers;
 and for the first time in ages the poor workingmen will be made happy.
 Our work is short; we do not want a thirty years’ war. Be determined.
 Do not let your near relation, if he is an enemy, stand in your way.
 Doing all this, then, the victory is ours.

  LOUIS LINGG.

In the work of stirring up bad blood, Lingg seems to have neglected
no point likely to count with the dissatisfied laborers. He knew that
among the strikers were a great many German Knights of Labor, and, with
an ingenuity worthy of a better cause, he took occasion particularly
to point out an article published in the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ of April
22, 1886, giving Governor Oglesby’s views on boycotting. This paper was
afterwards found in his trunk, somewhat soiled from frequent usage,
and the article in question, for convenience of reference, had been
heavily marked with a lead-pencil. Lingg no doubt figured that those
who believed in the boycott would thereafter array themselves solidly
on the side of those who favored force. A translation of the Governor’s
remarks, as given in the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_, is as follows:

 The system of boycotting is the most damnable proposal which was ever
 fabricated. It repudiates the Constitution, the law and everything.
 It is the devil’s invention. Yes (speaking to John V. Farwell), when
 it has so far progressed that the militia is obliged to interfere,
 you will find that these d—d boycotters will come to them (the
 merchants and business men) and say, “You must prohibit your employés
 joining the militia, and those who persist in belonging must be
 discharged from employment, or you will be boycotted.” This is a fine
 arrangement. It is true that, meeting with opposition all over, it
 will die out, but I tell you it is the most damnable transgression
 which was ever concocted.

[Illustration:

  IGNATZ URBAN.      JOSEPH SUGAR.

SPECIMEN RIOTERS—IV. From Photographs taken by the Police Department.]

Parsons and Schwab also took a hand in the McCormick “lock-out,” but
they used the platform to arouse the people to force. On the 2d of
March a mass-meeting of Anarchists and hot-headed strikers was held
at the West Twelfth Street Turner Hall. Parsons and Schwab were the
chief speakers. They were particularly abusive of the owners and the
superintendent of the works, and advised the use of violence against
the police. So incendiary were the speeches that E. E. Sanderson, a
member of the strikers’ standing committee, took occasion to denounce
the proceedings.

“Such speakers,” he declared, “cause every spark of sympathy to
disappear and bring us into disrepute.” If he had had the power, he
said, he would have stopped the gathering. He belonged to the true
laboring class, and to properly voice its sentiments he hired another
hall for the next day.

The continued presence of the police at the works finally restored
order in the vicinity, and it seemed as if the Anarchists had abandoned
any further intention of violence. But they were secretly at work,
biding their time and watching their opportunity. It came on the
afternoon of May 3. At this time between 40,000 and 50,000 men in
Chicago were out of employment by reason of the eight-hour strike.
Excitement ran high throughout the city. The reaper works were now
almost in full operation, and, led by the Anarchists, some of the
hot-headed strikers, grown impatient over the apparent failure of
their plan, made an assault upon the “scabs” at work in the shops.
The instigators of this attack and the principal assailants were
Anarchists, who exerted themselves to the utmost to bring on a deadly
conflict between the police and the unemployed.

For the day in question a meeting of the Lumber-shovers’ Union had
been called in the vicinity to receive the report of a committee
who had waited on their employers with reference to the eight-hour
question. The Socialists, learning of this, determined to make use of
the opportunity. The union was composed of over six thousand lumber
workingmen, three thousand Bohemians and over three thousand Germans,
and had no connection with the McCormick strike, but it occurred to the
Central Labor Union that, inasmuch as many of them were adherents of
Socialism, it would be no difficult matter to incite them to riotous
demonstrations. On the day preceding, Spies had been delegated by his
union to address the gathering. The president of the Lumber Union,
Frank Haraster, had become cognizant of the Anarchists’ intentions,
and had taken occasion to warn the men against either listening
to Socialistic orators or participating in a riot. But there were
mutterings of discontent, and the crowd was in a revengeful mood. There
were no less than 8,000 people at the gathering—some estimated the
number as high as 15,000. Some were intent on revolution, and others
had been drawn to the scene through idle curiosity.

It only needed a spark to create a tremendous conflagration. Anarchists
were busy among the various groups that had collected. For several
days they had labored early and late in the locality to stimulate
revolutionary action. Their plans had been carefully concocted, and
their network of conspiracy extended in every direction. They had
opened channels of subterranean communication, and so arranged their
mines of Socialistic powder that at the appointed time they hoped to
produce an explosion that would reverberate throughout the globe. That
appointed time, they figured, had arrived with the inauguration of
the eight-hour movement, and in the lock-out at McCormick’s the first
opportunity was presented for a general upheaval. This was their hope
and the burden of their care.

When, therefore, a coterie of trained Anarchists appeared on the
scene of trouble,—evidently by a preconcerted arrangement,—with
the Nation’s flag reversed and trailing in mud and muck, the wildest
excitement was aroused, and only a leader was necessary to connect
the electric currents of suppressed hostility to start an outburst of
violent deeds.

The occasion brought forth that leader in the person of the impulsive
and impetuous Spies. He, with some trusted lieutenants, mounted a
box-car in the vicinity of the meeting of the lumber-shovers and the
McCormick works. He gathered about him an immense crowd, and, speaking
in German, called the attention of his auditors to the “brutalities of
capital, its selfishness and its grinding oppression” of wage-workers,
rendering their condition worse than that of slaves. With fiery
invective he wrought up the feelings of the mob to a pitch of reckless
frenzy. In the climaxes of his envenomed utterances, he held the
multitude with a charmed spell, and he evoked their highest plaudits
when he counseled violence as a means to redress their grievances.

Before the termination of this lurid speech, many hitherto apparently
apathetic had caught the infection, and when some of the non-union
men emerged from the gate at the McCormick foundry, on the conclusion
of their day’s labor,—the hour being three o’clock,—many of the
mob rushed to the establishment, bent on wreaking vengeance. They
had hardly begun to move when some one on the box-car shouted: “Go
up and kill the d——d scabs!” The identity of this person has never
been disclosed, but it is no rash conclusion to suppose that it was
a confidant of Spies, as well as of Lingg, who had secret charge of
fomenting disturbances in that district. Lingg was present at this
gathering, and, as he subsequently claimed that he had been clubbed by
the police in the riot that followed, he may possibly have raised the
cry himself.

The mob reached the works in short order, hurling stones and firing
shots into the windows of the guard-house, which they finally
demolished. The non-union men, seeing the approaching mob, took to
flight, some seeking shelter in the works and others scampering across
the prairie beyond reach. There were at this time only two policemen
on duty. One of them, J. A. West, endeavored to pacify the crowd, but
received in response bricks and mud. The other for awhile, as well as
he could, held the mob at bay at the gate. West finally worked his
way through the crowd to a patrol box, and turned in an alarm for
reinforcements. Meanwhile the mob disported itself in throwing stones
and firing revolvers, and finally forced an entrance through the gate
to the yards.

Presently a patrol wagon loaded with officers plowed through the
turbulent mass, and, securing the ground between the mob and the
buildings, began driving out and dispersing the rioters. This only
served to infuriate the Anarchists, who fired in the direction of the
police and hurled a shower of stones. The officers remonstrated in
vain, warning the mob to keep back, and finally made a rush upon the
rioters with revolvers drawn, shooting right and left.

[Illustration: CHARGING THE MOB.]

The crowd swayed to and fro, retreated slightly, then rallied again,
and, diverging to either side in a jumbled but compact body, seemed
bent on holding their ground and fighting for every inch of it. But the
dashing and aggressive movements of the police, backed by courage and
discipline, soon demonstrated to the howling rabble the hopelessness
of the struggle. The very air seemed charged with bullets, clubs
and missiles. Revolvers clicked furiously, the exigencies of the
moment necessitating their use on the part of the police, and several
revolutionists bit the dust, maimed and wounded. What seems strange is
that none were killed in this furious onslaught.

The mob, which numbered fully 8,000, was soon put to precipitate
flight. Some of the most vicious leaders, however, kept up a rattling
fire of guns, revolvers, brickbats and sticks so long as their retreat
was measurably covered by the fleeing mob surrounding them. Several
of these leaders, with their weapons still smoking, were subsequently
overtaken, disarmed and locked up.

During all this short affray, Spies was nowhere to be seen, but, the
moment all danger seemed past, he emerged from his seclusion, breathing
courage and vengeance. He bounded into the field like one ready to
sacrifice himself for his cause, but cautiously kept himself where no
stray bullets might reach him. Another singular feature in connection
with the part he played in the affair was his attempt to parade his own
heroic virtues, by implication, in the denunciations and upbraidings
he heaped upon his comrades in the account published of the riot on
the very afternoon after its occurrence. This is what he said in the
_Arbeiter-Zeitung_:

[Illustration: OFFICER CASEY’S PERIL.]

 The writer of this hastened to the factory as soon as the first shots
 were fired, and a comrade urged the assembly to hasten to the rescue
 of their brothers, who were being murdered, but none stirred.... The
 writer ran back. He implored the people to come along,—those who had
 revolvers in their pockets,—but it was in vain. With an exasperating
 indifference they put their hands in their pockets and marched home,
 babbling as if the whole affair did not concern them in the least. The
 revolvers were still cracking, and fresh detachments of police, here
 and there bombarded with stones, were hastening to the battle-ground.
 The battle was lost!

A riot on a smaller scale occurred shortly after this in another
locality, instigated by the Anarchists who had been so severely
repulsed in the afternoon. After the McCormick outbreak one of the
wounded strikers was taken in a patrol wagon to the Twelfth Street
Station, and thence to his home on Seventeenth Street. Officer Casey
was one of the men in charge of the wagon, and remained behind at the
house to take a report of the man’s name, his residence and the nature
of his injuries. When the officer came out of the wounded man’s home,
he was set upon by a mob, shouting:

“Hang him! Hang the blue-coat!”

A Bohemian, named Vaclav Djenek, cried out:

“Help me; help me to hang the _canaille_!”

Two or three came to his side and endeavored to execute the threat.
Casey by a great effort managed to get away, and started on a run.
Pistol shots were fired after him by the mob, but fortunately he
escaped without injury.

[Illustration: FRANZ MIKOLANDA, A POLISH CONSPIRATOR.

From a Photograph.]

A patrol wagon from the West Chicago Avenue Station had meanwhile been
telephoned for by some peace-loving citizens, and it rapidly dashed
up to the scene of disturbance. The officers saw the whole situation,
dispersed the mob, and set about arresting the parties who had so
nearly succeeded in hanging the officer. They found that it had been a
very close call for Casey, that the rope was ready, and that, had it
not been for his own Herculean efforts, he would have dangled from a
lamp-post in a very few seconds.

Djenek, who was afterwards recognized as the principal actor in
this episode, was run down and placed under arrest. He was tried
and sentenced to one year in the penitentiary. During the trial two
officers of the West Chicago Avenue Station happened to be in the
State’s Attorney’s office when a lot of Bohemian literature and
Anarchist utensils were being exhibited. Among other things, they
noticed a photograph of Franz Mikolanda, and they at once exclaimed:

“This is the other man who helped Djenek to hang Casey!”

Mikolanda appeared at the trial for the purpose of swearing to an
alibi for Djenek, and was promptly recognized. He had no sooner left
the witness-stand than he was arrested on a warrant and subsequently
prosecuted. He was found guilty and sentenced to six months in the
Bridewell.



CHAPTER VII.

 The _Coup d’État_ a Miscarriage—Effect of the Anarchist Failure
 at McCormick’s—“Revenge”—Text of the Famous Circular—The German
 Version—An Incitement to Murder—Bringing on a Conflict—Engel’s
 Diabolical Plan—The Rôle of the Lehr und Wehr Verein—The Gathering
 of the Armed Groups—Fischer’s Sanguinary Talk—The Signal for
 Murder—“Ruhe” and its Meaning—Keeping Clear of the Mouse-Trap—The
 Haymarket Selected—Its Advantages for Revolutionary War—The Call
 for the Murder Meeting—“Workingmen, Arm Yourselves”—Preparing the
 Dynamite—The _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ Arsenal—The Assassins’ Roost at 58
 Clybourn Avenue—The Projected Attack on the Police Stations—Bombs
 for All who Wished Them—Waiting for the Word of Command—Why it was
 not Given—The Leaders’ Courage Fails.


NEVER was that old saying, “Whom the gods wish to destroy they first
make mad,” better illustrated than in the actions of the Anarchist
leaders after their desperate exploits at McCormick’s Works. That riot
was to have been the pivotal point in their social revolution. It
turned out a humiliating fiasco. They had hoped to make a _coup d’état_
for the scarlet banner and had counted upon such a victory as would
terrorize Capital, appal the people and paralyze the arm of constituted
authority. When they discovered that the police had escaped with only
slight bruises, that some of their own comrades had been seriously
wounded and that even the so-called “scabs” had passed through the
onslaught with nothing worse than fright, their rage knew no bounds.
They saw that “the battle had been lost,” and prompt, energetic action
seemed necessary to retrieve the situation.

Spies, their recognized leader, while the perspiration still dripped
from his face, and his blood still fired by his speech to the strikers
and his “heroic efforts” to rally the routed and fleeing Socialists,
seized a pen, and, dipping it into the gall of his indignation, wrote
what subsequently became famous as the “Revenge Circular.” It was
printed in German and English, and an exact _fac-simile_ is presented
herewith. The German version is somewhat different from the English,
being addressed to the adherents of Anarchy and Socialism, the English
version seeming to have been intended for Americans in general. Several
thousand copies were scattered throughout the city.

The wording of the English portion of the circular may be seen in the
illustration. The German portion, translated, reads as follows:

[Illustration: THE FAMOUS “REVENGE” CIRCULAR.

Engraved from the Original by direct Photographic Process.]

 Revenge! Revenge! Workmen to arms!

  Men of labor, this afternoon the bloodhounds of your oppressors
  murdered six of your brothers at McCormick’s. Why did they murder
  them? Because they dared to be dissatisfied with the lot which your
  oppressors have assigned to them. They demanded bread, and they
  gave them lead for an answer, mindful of the fact that thus people
  are most effectually silenced. You have for many years endured
  every humiliation without protest, have drudged from early in the
  morning until late at night, have suffered all sorts of privation,
  have even sacrificed your children. You have done everything to
  fill the coffers of your masters—everything for them! And now,
  when you approach them and implore them to make your burden a
  little lighter, as a reward for your sacrifices, they send their
  bloodhounds, the police, at you, in order to cure you with bullets
  of your dissatisfaction. Slaves, we ask and conjure you, by all
  that is sacred and dear to you, avenge the atrocious murder that
  has been committed upon your brothers to-day and which will likely
  be committed upon you to-morrow. Laboring men, Hercules, you have
  arrived at the cross-way. Which way will you decide? For slavery
  and hunger or for freedom and bread? If you decide for the latter,
  then do not delay a moment; then, people, to arms! Annihilation to
  the beasts in human form who call themselves rulers! Uncompromising
  annihilation to them! This must be your motto. Think of the heroes
  whose blood has fertilized the road to progress, liberty and
  humanity, and strive to become worthy of them!

  YOUR BROTHERS.

Not content with this, Spies also wrote and published, in the
_Arbeiter-Zeitung_ of May 4, the following:

 _BLOOD!—Lead and Powder as a Cure for Dissatisfied
 Workingmen.—About Six Laborers Mortally, and Four Times that Number
 Slightly, Wounded.—Thus are the Eight-hour Men Intimidated!—This
 is Law and Order.—Brave Girls Parading the City!—The Law and Order
 Beasts Frighten Hungry Children away with Clubs._

 Six months ago, when the eight-hour movement began, representatives of
 the I. A. A. called upon workmen to arm if they would enforce their
 demand. Would the occurrence of yesterday have been possible had that
 advice been followed? Yesterday, at McCormick’s factory, so far as can
 now be ascertained, four workmen were killed and twenty-five more or
 less seriously wounded. If members who defended themselves with stones
 (a few of them had little snappers in the shape of revolvers) had been
 provided with good weapons and one single dynamite bomb, not one of
 the murderers would have escaped his well-merited fate. This massacre
 was to fill the workmen of this city with fear. Will it succeed?

 A meeting of the lumber employés was held yesterday at the Black Road
 to appoint a committee to wait on the committee of the owners and
 present the demands agreed upon. It was an immense meeting. Several
 speeches were made in English, German and Polish. Finally Mr. Spies
 was introduced, when a Pole cried, “That is a Socialist,” and great
 disapprobation was expressed, but the speaker continued, telling them
 that they must realize their strength, and must not recede from their
 demands; that the issue lay in their hands, and needed only resolution
 on their part.

 At this point some one cried, “On to McCormick’s! Let us drive off the
 scabs,” and about two hundred ran toward McCormick’s. The speaker,
 not knowing what occurred, continued his speech, and was appointed
 afterwards a member of the committee to notify the bosses of the
 action.

 Then a Pole spoke, when a patrol wagon rushed up to McCormick’s, and
 the crowd began to break up. Shortly shots were heard near McCormick’s
 factory, and about seventy-five well-fed, large and strong murderers,
 under command of a fat police lieutenant, marched by followed by three
 more patrol wagons full of law and order beasts. Two hundred police
 were there in less than ten minutes, firing on fleeing workingmen and
 women. The writer hastened to the factory, while a comrade urged the
 assembly to rescue their brothers, unavailingly. A young Irishman
 said to the writer: “What miserable (—— ——) are those who will not
 turn a hand while their brothers are being shot down in cold blood!
 We have dragged away two. I think they are dead. If you have any
 influence with the people, for Heaven’s sake, run back and urge them
 to follow you.” The writer did so in vain. The revolvers were still
 cracking; fresh policemen arriving; and the battle was lost. It was
 about half-past three that the little crowd from the meeting reached
 McCormick’s factory. Policeman West tried to hold them back with his
 revolver, but was put to flight with a shower of stones and roughly
 handled. The crowd bombarded the factory windows with stones and
 demolished the guard-house. The scabs were in mortal terror, when the
 Hinman Street patrol wagon arrived. They were about to attack the
 crowd with their clubs, when a shower of stones was thrown, followed
 the next minute by the firing by the police upon the strikers. It was
 pretended subsequently that they fired over their heads. The strikers
 had a few revolvers and returned the fire. Meantime, more police
 arrived, and then the whole band opened fire on the people. The people
 fought with stones, and are said to have disabled four policemen. The
 gang, as always, fired upon the fleeing, while women and men carried
 away the severely wounded. How many were injured cannot be told. A
 dying boy, Joseph Doebick, was brought home on an express wagon by
 two policemen. The crowd threatened to lynch the officer, but were
 prevented by a patrol wagon. Various strikers were arrested. McCormick
 said that “August Spies made a speech to a few thousand Anarchists
 and then put himself at the head of a crowd and attacked our works.
 Our workmen fled, and meantime the police came and sent a lot of
 Anarchists away with bleeding heads.”

Mark well the language,—seeking to inflame the minds of the Socialists
by maliciously stating that four men had been killed, when in fact
not one was fatally injured,—its bitter invective, its cunning
phraseology, its rude eloquence and its passionate appeal. All were
well calculated to stir up revengeful feelings at a time when public
sentiment ran high throughout the city. The events following close
upon the heels of the eight-hour strike were critical in the extreme,
and none knew the exact situation better than the Anarchist leaders.
Their course had been shaped with special reference to it.

[Illustration: THE CALL FOR THE HAYMARKET MEETING.—I.

Photographic Engraving, direct from the Original.]

Their secret plottings were directed by the events of the hour. The
time had come, they felt, when the Commune should be proclaimed. It
would not do, they urged, to let the opportunity pass. The failure of
the McCormick riot at once suggested retaliation in a manner best known
to themselves, and the circular was fulminated with a clear knowledge
that its import would be readily understood by all in the dark secret
of their conspiracy.

But that there might be no misdirected effort, and that all might be
properly instructed for the emergency, it was deemed best to hold a
secret conference. The hour seemed to have arrived when their armed
sections, the various groups of the order trained in the use of guns
and explosives, should be brought into requisition, and the police in
particular and the public in general be made to feel their power. How
best to accomplish this purpose had been uppermost in their minds from
the moment of their disaster at the reaper works. A conflict between
the police and the strikers had been counted upon as a certainty under
their inspiration, and plans looking to the best means of taking
advantage of this strike as well as the eight-hour strike had been
discussed even before the McCormick riot.

Only so short a time as the day before that event, the members of the
second company of the Lehr und Wehr Verein and of the Northwest Side
groups had met in joint session at Bohemian Hall, on Emma Street, and
considered the probabilities in view of the eight-hour movement. They
clearly foresaw a conflict, and, among other things, discussed a plan
to meet that contingency. This plan, proposed by Engel and indorsed by
Fischer, and subsequently confessed by one of the conspirators present
at that meeting, was that whenever it came to a conflict between the
police and the Northwest groups, bombs should be thrown into the
police stations. The riflemen of the Lehr und Wehr Verein should post
themselves in line at a certain distance, and whoever came out of the
stations should be shot down. They would then come into the heart of
the city, where the fight would commence in earnest. The members of the
Northwest Side groups were counseled to mutually assist each other in
making the attack upon the police, and “if any one had anything with
him, he should use it.” “As the police would endeavor to subdue the
workingmen by sending all their available force to the place of attack,
the Anarchists could easily blow up the stations, and such officers
as might effect an escape from the buildings could be killed by their
riflemen. Then they would cut the telegraph wires so as to prevent
communication with other stations, after which they would proceed to
the nearest station and destroy that. On their way they would throw
fire bombs at some of the buildings, and this would call out the Fire
Department and prevent the firemen from being called upon to quell the
riot. While proceeding thus they would secure reinforcements, and,
in the intense excitement following, the police as well as militia
would become confused and divided in counsel as to the points where
they could do the most effective service. The attacks should be almost
simultaneous in different parts of the city at a given signal. When
they all finally reached the center of the city, they would set fire to
the most prominent buildings and attack the jail, open the doors and
set free the inmates to join them in future movements.”

This plan, it is almost needless to remark, was unanimously adopted.
But concerted action was necessary among all the groups, and in view
of the “skull-cracking,” to use their own phrase, on the afternoon
of May 3, a secret conference of all groups was determined upon
as a supplement to Spies’ pronunciamento and as an incitement to
future revolutionary movements. A notice understood by all in the
armed sections—“Y, come Monday evening”—was inserted in the
_Arbeiter-Zeitung_. The commander of the Lehr und Wehr Verein rented
a beer basement at No. 54 West Lake Street, known to the followers
of Socialism as Greif’s Hall, and along towards eight o’clock
representatives of all the armed sections of the Internationale
gathered there. In order that the utmost privacy might be maintained,
guards were posted both at the front and rear entrances with
instructions to permit no one to stand on the outside and to admit only
trusted adherents.

When the session opened there were between seventy and eighty members
of the various sections present. Their deliberations were presided over
by Gottfried Waller, who subsequently became an important witness for
the State.

Spies’ “Revenge circular,” written late that afternoon, was distributed
in the meeting, and its sentiments were heartily seconded by all
present. Engel finally submitted the plan already given, and some
discussion followed, participated in by various members. Fischer
considered the plan admirable, and, lest there might be evidence of
weakness, he stated that if any man acted the part of a coward, his
own dagger or a bullet from his rifle should pierce that man’s heart.
Inquiries being made with reference to a supply of bombs, he suggested
that the members manufacture them on their own account. The best thing,
he said, was to procure a tin coffee-bottle, fill it with benzine,
attach a cap and fuse, and they would have a most effective bomb.

Engel’s plan went through with a rush. Having now agreed upon a
definite course, it was necessary to adopt a signal to warn the
sections of danger and summon them to action. Fischer was equal to the
occasion. He proposed the German word “Ruhe,”—signifying “rest” or
“peace,”—and added that whenever it should appear in the “Letter-box”
column of the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_, all would know that the moment for
decisive action had been reached, and that all were expected to repair
promptly to their appointed meeting-places, fully armed and ready for
duty. The suggestion was adopted.

But what are plans without being fortified by enthusiasm on the part
of the mob expected to carry them out? The Socialistic heart must be
fired to a proper pitch of frenzy. Every soul must be made to feel that
the cause of Socialism is his own. A mass-meeting was just the thing,
and a mass-meeting it was decided by this august band of conspirators
to call. The time was the only point in controversy. The chairman
insisted on holding it the following morning on Market Square, which
is a widening of Market Street between Madison and Randolph Streets,
but Fischer protested, because, as he said, it was a “mouse trap,” and
insisted that the meeting be held in the evening, when they could bring
out a crowd of no less than 25,000 people, and that the Haymarket be
the place. There, he said, they would have greater security in case of
disturbance, and more and better means of escape. His counsel finally
prevailed, and after a call had been suitably drafted, Fischer was
intrusted with its printing.

Remembering that “what is everybody’s business is nobody’s business,”
the meeting decided to appoint a committee, consisting of one or two
members from each group. This committee was to keep a close watch on
all movements that might be made at Haymarket Square and in different
parts of the city, and, in the event of a conflict, to promptly report
it to the members of the various armed sections by the insertion in
the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ of the word “Ruhe” if there was trouble during
the day, or illuminating the sky with a red light at night. If either
signal could not be conveniently used, then they were to notify the
members individually.

[Illustration: THE CALL FOR THE HAYMARKET MEETING.—II.

Photographic Engraving, direct from the Original.]

Before the conclusion of this secret conclave, every one present was
directed to notify absent members of what had been done, and Rudolph
Schnaubelt, who has since been proven the thrower of the bomb which
scattered death and devastation on the following evening, wished to
go even further and have Socialists in other cities notified so that
the proposed revolution might become general. The instigators of the
meeting just described were Spies, Parsons, Fielden and Neebe, but for
some reason they failed to put in an appearance.

In accordance with arrangements, the call for the mass-meeting was
printed the next morning. There were two versions of this call.
_Fac-similes_ of both are given.

In the afternoon of May 4 the signal word “Ruhe” appeared in the
_Arbeiter-Zeitung_, and all the armed men proceeded to place
themselves in readiness for the conflict. They also devoted themselves
energetically to cultivating revengeful sentiments. While making their
preparations for the projected riot, they communicated the plan decided
upon to every member of the order, and all were urged to come fully
armed with such weapons as they might possess.

[Illustration: NEFF’S HALL.]

But their greatest reliance was placed in the use of dynamite. This
highly explosive material was regarded as the chief arm of their cause.
For many weeks, the leaders had experimented with it. Some six weeks
before the disastrous Haymarket riot, Louis Lingg had brought a bomb
to the house of William Seliger, No. 442 Sedgwick Street, where he
boarded, and announced his intention of making other bombs like it.
Before this he had provided himself with dynamite, the money for its
purchase having been realized at a ball given some time previously and
turned over to him to use in experiments. Being out of employment at
the time, he devoted himself energetically to experiments with that
material, and produced large gas-pipe bombs. One of these he took out
to a grove north of the city, and, placing it in the crotch of a tree,
exploded it, splitting the tree to pieces. The result of the test
appears to have been satisfactory, and he next gave his attention to
the manufacture of globular shells. In the casting of these he used
the kitchen stove to melt his metal, and often received the assistance
of Seliger, Thielen and Hermann. All day Tuesday, May 4, he worked
most persistently and seemed in a great hurry to make as many bombs
as possible. He was helped on that day by the parties named and two
others, Hueber and Munzenberger. Before the close of the day they had
finished over a hundred bombs. While they were at work Lehman visited
them and carried home a satchel of dynamite, which he subsequently,
after the Haymarket riot, buried out on the prairie, and which was
afterwards disinterred by the police. Not alone did he and his friends
experiment with dynamite, but it appears that Spies, Parsons, Fischer,
Fielden and Schwab also tried their hands at it and handled the deadly
stuff at the office of the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_. They had several bombs
there and made no secret of the purpose for which they intended them.
The office was afterwards discovered to be an arsenal of revolvers and
dynamite.

After the bombs had been completed by Lingg and his assistants,
Lingg and Seliger put them in a trunk or satchel and carried them
over towards Neff’s Hall, at No. 58 Clybourn Avenue. On the way they
were met by Munzenberger, who took the trunk, and, placing it on
his shoulder, carried it the rest of the distance. At this time—it
being evening—there was a meeting of painters in a hall at the rear
of Neff’s saloon, and the package was placed at the entrance for a
moment’s exhibition. Lingg asked the proprietor if any one had called
and inquired for him, and, on being answered in the negative, proceeded
with Seliger and Munzenberger into the hallway connecting the saloon
and the assembly-room. Placing the trunk on the floor, he opened it
for inspection. Several parties examined the bombs and took some of
them away. Seliger helped himself to two and kept them until after the
Haymarket explosion, when he hid them under a sidewalk on Sigel Street.
Lingg, Seliger and Munzenberger then left the premises. The direction
the last-named took is a matter in doubt. Neff had never seen him
before, Lehman did not know him, and Seliger had not even learned his
name.

It is clear that all this work was part of the conspiracy concocted
at Greif’s Hall the previous evening. It is also well settled that
Munzenberger was the chosen agent to secure the bombs and see that they
were placed in the hands of trusted Anarchists for use at the proper
moment. The secrecy surrounding the latter’s identity was in complete
accord with the method of procedure outlined in the instructions given
to Socialists:

 In the commission of a deed, a comrade who does not live at the
 place of action, that is, a comrade of some other place, ought, if
 possibility admits, to participate in the action, or, formulated
 difficulty, a revolutionary deed ought to be enacted where one is not
 known.

Still further steps were taken to precipitate the revolution. In
conformity with the Monday night plan, armed men were to be stationed,
on the evening of Tuesday, in the vicinity of the police stations. We
find that Lingg, Seliger, Lehman, Smidke, Thielen and two large unknown
men were in the vicinity of the North Avenue Station. They skulked
about the corners of the streets leading to that station, between
eight and ten o’clock, fully armed with bombs and ready for desperate
deeds. Others, who had secured bombs at Neff’s Hall, went further
northward and hovered around the police station near the corner of
Webster and Lincoln Avenues. Seliger and Lingg also paid that vicinity
a visit. There were also armed men at Deering, where a meeting of
striking workingmen was held, and which was addressed by Schwab after
he had left the Haymarket. Anarchists also posted themselves in the
vicinity of the Chicago Avenue Station. Men were also near the North
Avenue Station, and some twenty-five posted themselves at the corner
of Halsted and Randolph Streets, two blocks from the Desplaines Street
Station. Spies and Schwab entered this group and held some secret
consultation with the leaders. Fischer and Waller were also close to
that station.

It furthermore appears that several men called on Tuesday evening at
Waller’s residence while he was eating his supper and desired him to
accompany them to Wicker Park, saying that they “wanted to be at their
post.” Two of these men were Krueger and Kraemer, belonging to the
“armed sections.” Some men also called at Engel’s store, and one of
them exhibited a revolver. Another, a stranger, explained to a comrade
that he was waiting for some “pills.” He waited only five minutes,
when a young girl about ten or twelve years of age came in, carrying a
mysterious package. This she handed to the stranger, who stepped behind
a screen and then hastened out.

It is thus manifest that the various parties were bent on a carnival
of riot and destruction and only awaited the proper signal from the
committee. The men intrusted with the secrets of pillage, murder
and general destruction belonged to what was known in the order as
the “Revolutionary Group.” The plan was not communicated to any one
else. The utmost secrecy had to be maintained for its successful
accomplishment, and the conspiracy was only communicated to such as
had proved themselves in the past, by word and deed, in full accord
with revolutionary methods. The “revolutionary party” consisted of the
Lehr und Wehr Verein, commanded by Breitenfeld; the Northwest Side
group, under command of Engel, Fischer and Grumm; the North Side group,
commanded by Neebe, Lingg and Hermann; the American group, commanded by
Spies, Parsons and Fielden; the Karl Marx group, directed by Schilling;
the Freiheit group and the armed sections of the International
Carpenters’ Union and Metal-workers’ Union. These various sections,
or groups, were under the management of a general committee which
included among its leading spirits Spies, Schwab, Parsons, Neebe, Rau,
Hirschberger, Deusch and Bélz. This committee met at stated periods
at the office of the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ and formulated orders for the
guidance of the groups. Its expenses were met by monthly contributions
from all the Socialistic societies. It was under the inspiration of
this committee that the Monday night meeting was held. Why the signal
for a concerted raid on the police stations, the burning of buildings
and the slaughter of capitalists was not given on the fateful night
of the Haymarket riot,—or, if given, as seems to be believed in many
quarters, in Fielden’s declaration, “We are peaceable,” why it was not
carried out completely,—is not explicable upon any other hypothesis
than that the courage of the trusted leaders failed them at the
critical moment.



CHAPTER VIII.

 The Air Full of Rumors—A Riot Feared—Police Preparations—Bonfield
 in Command—The Haymarket—Strategic Value of the Anarchists’
 Position—Crane’s Alley—The Theory of Street Warfare—Inflaming
 the Mob—Schnaubelt and his Bomb—“Throttle the Law”—The Limit of
 Patience Reached—“In the Name of the People, Disperse”—The Signal
 Given—The Crash of Dynamite First Heard on an American Street—Murder
 in the Air—A Rally and a Charge—The Anarchists Swept Away—A Battle
 Worthy of Veterans.


WITH such active work among the conspirators as I have shown, it
was only a question of time when some terrible catastrophe would
ensue through the instrumentality of the powerful bombs they had
manufactured. The public mind was in a state of fear and suspense, not
knowing the direction whence threatened devastation and destruction
might appear. The incendiary speeches were enough to excite
trepidation, and the appearance of the “Revenge circular” fanned the
excitement into general alarm and indignation. The McCormick attack
proved conclusively that the Anarchists meant to practice what they
preached. After their rout and defeat, they were heard to express
regret that they had not taken forcible possession of the works before
the arrival of the police and then received the officers with a
volley of fire-arms, as had once been contemplated in a star-chamber
session of one of their “revolutionary groups.” The air was full of
rumors, and the general public was convinced that some great disaster
would occur unless the police promptly forbade the holding of further
revolutionary meetings. The Mayor’s attention had been called to the
possible results if such meetings were permitted to continue, and he,
in turn, directed the Police Department to keep close watch of the
gathering called for the Haymarket Square and disperse it in case
the speakers used inflammatory language. During the day many of the
Spies circulars had been distributed in the vicinity of the McCormick
establishment, and it was expected that many of the enraged strikers
from that locality would attend the meeting. It was clear that, in view
of the temper of the Socialists, only slight encouragement would be
required to produce a disturbance, and it was of the utmost importance
that prompt action should be taken at the first sign of trouble. It
subsequently transpired that the leaders had intended to make the
speeches threatening in order to invite a charge upon the crowd by the
police, and then, during the confusion, to carry out the Monday night
programme.

[Illustration: THE HAYMARKET MEETING.

“IN THE NAME OF THE PEOPLE, I COMMAND YOU TO DISPERSE.”]

The city authorities fully comprehended the situation, but concluded
not to interfere with the meeting unless the discussion should be
attended with violent threats. In order to be prepared for any
emergency, however, it was deemed best to concentrate a large force
in the vicinity of the meeting—at the Desplaines Street Station. One
hundred men from Capt. Ward’s district, the Third Precinct, under
command of Lieuts. Bowler, Stanton, Penzen and Beard, twenty-six men
from the Central Detail under command of Lieut. Hubbard and Sergt.
Fitzpatrick, and fifty men from the Fourth Precinct, under Lieuts.
Steele and Quinn, were accordingly assigned for special service that
evening. Inspector John Bonfield was ordered to assume command of
the whole force, and his instructions were to direct the detectives
to mingle with the crowd, and, if anything of an incendiary nature
was advised by the speakers, to direct the officers to disperse the
gathering.

The meeting had been called for 7:30 o’clock, and at that hour quite a
number had assembled in the vicinity of Haymarket Square. This square
is simply a widening of Randolph Street between Desplaines and Halsted
Streets; and in years past was used by farmers for the sale of hay and
produce. It was for this place that the call had been issued, but for
certain reasons the meeting was held ninety feet north of Randolph, on
Desplaines Street, near the intersection of an alley which has since
passed into public fame as “Crane’s alley.” In sight almost of this
alley was Zepf’s Hall, on the northeast corner of Lake and Desplaines
Streets, and about two blocks further east on Lake Street were Florus’
Hall and Greif’s Hall—all notorious resorts and headquarters for
Anarchists. On the evening in question these places and surrounding
streets leading to the meeting-place were crowded with strikers and
Socialist sympathizers, some within the saloons regaling themselves
with beer and some jostling each other on the thoroughfares, either
going for liquids or returning to the meeting after having for the
moment satisfied the “inner man.” Here was a condition of things that
would permit an easy mingling in, and ready escape through, the crowd,
in the event of inauguration of the revolutionary plan adopted the
evening previous. The throngs would serve as a cover for apparently
safe operations. Another advantage gained by holding the meeting at
the point indicated was that the street was dimly lighted, and, as the
building in front of which the speaking took place was a manufacturing
establishment,—that of Crane Bros.,—not used or lighted at night, and
as the alley contiguous to the speaker’s stand formed an L with another
alley leading to Randolph Street, there were points of seeming safety
for a conflict with the police. Besides, the point was about 350 feet
north of the Desplaines Street Police Station, and it was evidently
calculated that when the police should attack the crowd, that part of
the Monday night programme about blowing up the stations could easily
be carried into effect.

These were the undoubted reasons for effecting the change. The reader
will remember that one of the objections urged by Fischer against
holding the meeting on Market Square was that it was a “mouse trap,”
and one of his potential arguments for the Haymarket was that it was a
safer place for the execution of their plot. There was thus a “method
in their madness.” All the contingencies had evidently been very
carefully considered.

[Illustration: THE HAYMARKET RIOT. THE EXPLOSION AND THE CONFLICT.]

But, as I have already stated, the hour had arrived for calling the
meeting to order, and as there appeared no one to assume prompt
charge, the crowd exhibited some manifestations of impatience. About
eight o’clock there were perhaps 3,000 people in the vicinity of the
chosen place, and some fifteen or twenty minutes later Spies put in
an appearance. He mounted the truck wagon improvised as a speaker’s
stand and inquired for Parsons. Receiving no response, he got down,
and, meeting Schwab, the two entered the alley, where there was quite
a crowd, and where they were overheard using the words “pistols” and
“police,” and Schwab was heard to ask, “Is one enough or had we better
go and get more?” Both then disappeared up the street, and it is a
fair presumption—borne out by the fact that they had entered a group
of Anarchists on the corner of Halsted and Randolph Streets, as noted
in the preceding chapter, and other circumstances—that they went to
secure bombs. Spies shortly returned, and, meeting Schnaubelt, held a
short conversation with him, at the same time handing him something,
which Schnaubelt put carefully in a side-pocket. Spies again mounted
the wagon (the hour being about 8:40—Schnaubelt standing near him),
and began a speech in English. It is needless, at this point, to
reproduce the speech, as its substance appears later on, both as given
by the reporters and as written out subsequently by Spies. But both
reports fail to give a proper conception of its insidious effect on
the audience. It bore mainly on the grievances of labor, the treatment
of the strikers by McCormick, and an explanation of his (Spies’)
connection with the disturbances of the day previous. The lesson he
drew from the occurrence at McCormick’s was “that workingmen must arm
themselves for defense, so that they may be able to cope with the
Government hirelings of their masters.”

[Illustration: INSPECTOR JOHN BONFIELD.]

Parsons had meanwhile been sent for, and on the conclusion of Spies’
harangue was introduced. He reviewed the labor discontent in the
country, the troubles growing out of it, touched on monopoly,
criticised the so-called “capitalistic press,” scored the banks,
explained Socialism, excoriated the system of elections, and terminated
his remarks by appealing to his hearers to defend themselves and
asserting that, if the demands of the working classes were refused,
it meant war. His speech, like that of Spies, was mild as compared
with what would be expected on such an occasion. Perhaps this is
accounted for by the fact that during their harangues Mayor Harrison
mingled in the throng and paid close attention to the sentiments of
the speakers. He afterwards characterized Parsons’ effort as “a good
political speech,” and, being apparently satisfied that there would
be no trouble, left for the Desplaines Street Police Station, giving
his impressions of the gathering to the Captain in charge and telling
Bonfield that there seemed to be no further use for holding the force
in reserve.

No sooner had Harrison left for the station and thence for his own
house, than the next speaker, Fielden, grew bolder in his remarks
and sent the words rolling hot and fast over an oily, voluble and
vindictive tongue. He opened with a reference to the insecurity of
the working classes under the present social system, drifted to the
McCormick strike, in which men, he said, were “shot down by the law in
cold blood, in the city of Chicago, in the protection of property,”
and held that the strikers had “nothing more to do with the law except
to lay hands on it, and throttle it until it makes its last kick.
Throttle it! Kill it! Stab it! Can we do anything,” he asked, “except
by the strong arm of resistance? The skirmish lines have met. The
people have been shot. Men, women and children have not been spared
by the capitalists and the minions of private capital. It had no
mercy—neither ought you. You are called upon to defend yourselves,
your lives, your future. I have some resistance in me. I know that you
have, too.”

[Illustration: CAPT. WILLIAM WARD.]

At this juncture the police made their appearance. During the remarks
of Spies and Parsons, detectives had frequently reported to the station
that only moderate, temperate sentiments were being uttered, but after
Fielden had got fairly worked up to his subject, this was changed. The
crowd was being wrought up to a high point of excitement, and there
were frequent interjections of approval and shouts of indignation.
Fielden’s was just such a speech as they had expected to hear. Very
little was required to incite them to the perpetration of desperate
deeds. Like a sculptor with his plastic model, Fielden had molded
his audience to suit the purpose of the occasion. With his rough and
ready eloquence he stirred up their innermost passions. His biting
allusions to capitalists caught the hearts of the uncouth mob as with
grappling-hooks, and his appeals for the destruction of existing laws
shook them as a whirlwind.

It would be as well, he said, for workmen to die fighting as to
starve to death. “Exterminate the capitalists, and do it to-night!”
The officers detailed to watch the proceedings saw that the speech
portended no good, and they communicated the facts to Inspector
Bonfield. Even then the Inspector hesitated. To use his own language,
in the report he sent to Superintendent Ebersold: “Wanting to be
clearly within the law, and wishing to leave no room for doubt as to
the propriety of our actions, I did not act on the first reports, but
sent the officers back to make further observations. A few minutes
after ten o’clock, the officers returned and reported that the crowd
were getting excited and the speaker growing more incendiary in his
language. I then felt that to hesitate any longer would be criminal,
and gave the order to fall in and move our force forward on Waldo
Place,”—a short street south of the Desplaines Street Station.

[Illustration: LIEUT. (NOW CHIEF) G. W. HUBBARD.]

The force formed into four divisions. The companies of Lieuts. Steele
and Quinn formed the first; those of Lieuts. Stanton and Bowler, the
second; those of Lieut. Hubbard and Sergt. Fitzpatrick, the third; and
two companies commanded by Lieuts. Beard and Penzen constituted the
fourth, forming the rear guard, which had orders to form right and
left on Randolph Street, to guard the rear from any attack from the
Haymarket. These various divisions thus covered the street from curb
to curb. Inspector Bonfield and Capt. Ward led the forces, in front of
the first division. On seeing them advancing in the distance, Fielden
exclaimed:

“Here come the bloodhounds. You do your duty, and I’ll do mine!”

Arriving on the ground, they found the agitator right in the midst
of his incendiary exhortations, that point where he was telling his
Anarchist zealots that he had some resistance in him, and assuring them
that he knew they had too. At that moment the police were ordered to
halt within a few feet of the truck wagon, and Capt. Ward, advancing to
within three feet of the speaker, said:

“I command you, in the name of the people of the State, to immediately
and peaceably disperse.”

Turning to the crowd, he continued: “I command you and you to assist.”

Fielden had meanwhile jumped off the wagon, and, as he reached the
sidewalk, declared in a clear, loud tone of voice:

“We are peaceable.”

This must have been the secret signal,—it has about it suggestions
of the word “Ruhe,”—and no sooner had it been uttered than a spark
flashed through the air. It looked like the lighted remnant of a cigar,
but hissed like a miniature skyrocket. It fell in the ranks of the
second division and near the dividing-line between the companies of
Lieuts. Stanton and Bowler, just south of where the speaking had taken
place.

A terrific explosion followed—the detonation was heard for blocks
around. The direction in which the bomb—for such it was—had been
thrown was by way of the east sidewalk from the alley. It had been
hurled by a person in the shadow of that narrow yet crowded passageway
on the same side of, and only a few feet from, the speaker’s stand.

[Illustration: SERGT. (NOW CAPT.) J. E. FITZPATRICK.]

The explosion created frightful havoc and terrible dismay. It was
instantly followed by a volley of small fire-arms from the mob on
the sidewalk and in the street in front of the police force, all
directed against the officers. They were for the moment stunned and
terror-stricken. In the immediate vicinity of the explosion, the
entire column under Stanton and Bowler and many of the first and third
divisions were hurled to the ground, some killed, and many in the
agonies of death.

As soon as the first flash of the tragic shock had passed, and even
on the instant the mob began firing, Inspector Bonfield rallied the
policemen who remained unscathed, and ordered a running fire of
revolvers on the desperate Anarchists. Lieuts. Steele and Quinn charged
the crowd on the street from curb to curb, and Lieuts. Hubbard and
Fitzpatrick, with such men as were left them of the Special Detail,
swept both sidewalks with a brisk and rattling fire.

[Illustration: LIEUT. JAMES P. STANTON.]

The rush of the officers was like that of a mighty torrent in a narrow
channel—they carried everything before them and swept down all hapless
enough to fall under their fire or batons. The masterly courage and
brilliant dash of the men soon sent the Anarchists flying in every
direction, and a more desperate scramble for life and safety was never
witnessed. Even the most defiant conspirators lost their wits and
hunted nooks and recesses of buildings to seclude themselves till they
could effect an escape without imminent danger of bullets or of being
crushed by the precipitate mob.

Fielden, so brave and fearless on the appearance of the police, pulled
a revolver while crouching beneath the protection of the truck wheels,
fired at the officers, and then took to his heels and disappeared.
Spies had friendly assistance in getting off the truck, and hastened
pell-mell through the crowd in a frantic endeavor to get under cover.
He finally reached safety, while his brother, who was with him on the
wagon, got away with a slight wound. Parsons seems to have taken time
by the forelock and nervously awaited developments in the bar-room
of Zepf’s Hall.

[Illustration: LIEUT. BOWLER.]

Fischer had been among the crowd while Spies and Parsons spoke, but he
was in the company of Parsons at Zepf’s when the explosion occurred.
Schnaubelt, who had sat on the wagon with his hands in his pockets
until Fielden began his speech, hurried through the mob, after sending
the missile on its deadly mission, and got away without a scratch.
Other lesser yet influential lights in the Anarchist combination found
friendly refuge, and, as subsequently developed, lost no time in
reaching home as soon as possible. How any of these leaders who were in
the midst of the awful carnage managed to escape, while other of their
comrades suffered, is not clear, unless they dodged from one secluded
spot to another, while the storm raged at its height—and there are many
circumstances showing that this was the case. At any rate the point
is immaterial: the fact remains that they were all found lacking in
courage at the critical moment, and each seemed more concerned about
his own safety than that of his fellow revolutionists.

Owing to the masterly charge of the police, the conflict was of short
duration, but, while it lasted, it produced a scene of confusion, death
and bloodshed not equaled in the annals of American riots in its extent
and far-reaching results. The hissing of bullets, the groans of the
dying, the cries of the wounded and the imprecations of the fleeing
made a combination of horrors which those present will never forget.

No sooner had the field been cleared of the mob than Inspector Bonfield
set to work caring for the dead and wounded. They were found scattered
in every direction. Many of the officers lay prostrate where they had
fallen, and to the north, where the mob had disputed the ground with
the police, lay many an Anarchist. On door-steps and in the recesses of
buildings were found wounded and maimed. The police looked after all
and rendered assistance alike to friend and foe. The dead, dying and
wounded were conveyed to the Desplaines Street Station, where numerous
physicians were called into service.

In subsequently speaking of the bravery of his men on this occasion, in
his report to the Chief of Police, Inspector Bonfield very truly said:

 It has been asserted that regular troops have become panic-stricken
 from less cause. I see no way to account for it except this. The
 soldier acts as part of a machine. Rarely, if ever, when on duty, is
 he allowed to act as an individual or to use his personal judgment. A
 police officer’s training teaches him to be self-reliant. Day after
 day and night after night he goes on duty alone, and, when in conflict
 with the thief and burglar, he has to depend upon his own individual
 exertions. The soldier being a part of a machine, it follows that,
 when a part of it gives out, the rest is useless until the injury is
 repaired. The policeman, being a machine in himself, rarely, if ever,
 gives up until he is laid on the ground and unable to rise again. In
 conclusion, I beg leave to report that the conduct of the men and
 officers, with few exceptions, was admirable—as a military man said
 to me the next day, “worthy the heroes of a hundred battles.”



CHAPTER IX.

 The Dead and the Wounded—Moans of Anguish in the Police
 Station—Caring for Friend and Foe—Counting the Cost—A City’s
 Sympathy—The Death List—Sketches of the Men—The Doctors’
 Work—Dynamite Havoc—Veterans of the Haymarket—A Roll of Honor—The
 Anarchist Loss—Guesses at their Dead—Concealing Wounded Rioters—The
 Explosion a Failure—Disappointment of the Terrorists.


THE scene at the Desplaines Street Station was one which would appal
the stoutest heart. Every available place in the building was utilized,
and one could scarcely move about the various rooms without fear of
accidentally touching a wound or jarring a fractured limb. In many
instances mangled Anarchists were placed side by side with injured
officers. The floors literally ran with blood dripping and flowing from
the lacerated bodies of the victims of the riot. The air was filled
with moans from the dying and groans of anguish from the wounded. As
the news had spread throughout the city of the terrible slaughter,
wives, daughters, relatives and friends of officers as well as of
Anarchists, who had failed to report at home or to send tidings of
their whereabouts, hastened to the station and sought admission. Being
refused, these set up wailing and lamentations about the doors of
the station, and the doleful sounds made the situation all the more
sorrowful within.

Everything in the power of man was done to alleviate the suffering and
to make the patients as comfortable as possible. Drs. Murphy, Lee and
Henrotin, department physicians, were energetically at work, and, with
every appliance possible, administered comparative relief and ease from
the excruciating pains of the suffering. The more seriously wounded,
when possible, were taken to the Cook County Hospital. Throughout the
night following the riot, the early morning and the day succeeding, the
utmost care was given the patients, and throughout the city for days
and weeks the one inquiry, the one great sympathy, was with reference
to the wounded officers and their condition. The whole heart of the
city was centered in their recovery. Everywhere the living as well as
the dead heroes were accorded the highest praise. The culprits who had
sought to subvert law and order in murder and pillage were execrated on
all hands. For days and weeks, the city never for a moment relaxed its
interest. From the time the men had been brought into the station, it
was long a question as to how many would succumb to their wounds. Care
and attention without ceasing served to rescue many from an untimely
grave; but even those who were finally restored to their families
and friends, crippled and maimed as they were, hovered between life
and death on a very slender thread through many a restless night and
weary day and through long weeks and agonizing months. The devotion
of friends and the skill of physicians nerved the men to strength and
patience. That only eight should have died out of so great a number as
were mangled, lacerated and shattered by the powerful bomb and pierced
by bullets, attests the merits of the treatment.

The only one who was almost instantly killed was Officer Mathias J.
Degan. The following list will serve to show the names of the officers
killed and wounded, the stations they belonged to, their residences,
the nature of their wounds, their condition and other circumstances:

 MATHIAS J. DEGAN—Third Precinct, West Lake Street Station; residence,
 No. 626 South Canal Street. Almost instantly killed. He was born
 October 29, 1851, and joined the police force December 15, 1884. He
 was a widower, having lost his wife just before joining the force, and
 left a young son. He was a brave officer, efficient in all his duties,
 and highly esteemed.

 MICHAEL SHEEHAN—Third Precinct; residence, No. 163 Barber Street.
 Wounded in the back just below the ninth rib. The bullet lay in the
 abdomen, and, after its removal by the surgeon, he collapsed and died
 on the 9th of May. He was twenty-nine years of age, born in Ireland,
 and came to America in 1879. He joined the force December 15, 1884,
 and had only one relative in America, a brother, his parents still
 living in the old country. He was a very bright, prompt and efficient
 officer, and had excellent prospects before him. He was unmarried.

 GEORGE MULLER—Third Precinct; residence, No. 836 West Madison Street;
 was shot in the left side, the bullet passing down through the
 body and lodging on the right side above the hip bone. He suffered
 more than any of the others and was in terrible agony. He would
 not consent to an operation, and finally his right lung collapsed,
 making his breathing very difficult. He expired on the 6th of May.
 He was twenty-eight years of age. Born in Oswego, N. Y., where his
 parents lived, and to which place his remains were sent. Muller, on
 coming to Chicago, began as a teamster, and became connected with the
 Police Department December 15, 1884, being assigned for duty at the
 Desplaines Street Station. He was a finely built, muscular young man,
 and became quite a favorite with his associates because of his quiet
 habits and genial manners. At the time of his death he was engaged to
 Miss Mary McAvoy.

 JOHN J. BARRETT—Third Precinct; residence, No. 99 East Erie Street;
 was shot in the liver, from which a piece of shell was removed, and
 he had a bad fracture of the elbow. The heel bone of one leg was
 carried away. With so many serious wounds, he lay in the hospital
 almost unconscious until the day of his death, May 6. He was born in
 Waukegan, Ill., in 1860, and came to Chicago with his parents when
 only four years of age. Here he attended the public schools, and then
 learned the molder’s trade, which he abandoned on January 15, 1885,
 to join the police force, being assigned to duty at the Desplaines
 Street Station. He was a brave and efficient officer and always ready
 to do his part in any emergency. He had been married only a few months
 preceding his death, and left a wife, a widowed mother, three sisters
 and a younger brother.

 THOMAS REDDEN—Third Precinct; residence, No. 109 Walnut Street;
 received a bad fracture of the left leg three inches below the knee,
 from which a large portion of the bone was entirely carried away. He
 also had bullet wounds in the left cheek and right elbow, and some
 wounds in the back. Pieces of shell were found in the leg and elbow.
 He died May 16. He was fifty years of age, and had been connected with
 the police force for twelve years, joining it on April 1, 1874. He was
 attached to the West Lake Street Station, and was looked upon as an
 exemplary and trusted officer. He left a wife and two young children.

 TIMOTHY FLAVIN—Fourth Precinct; residence, No. 504 North Ashland
 Avenue; was struck with a piece of shell four inches above the ankle
 joint, tearing away a portion of the large bone and fracturing the
 small bone. He also had two wounds just below the shoulder joint in
 the right arm, caused by a shell, and there were two shell wounds
 in the back, one passing into the abdomen and the other into the
 lung. His leg was amputated above the knee, the second day after the
 explosion, and he had besides a large piece torn out of his right
 hip. He died on May 8. He was born in Listowel, Ireland, and came to
 America in 1880 with a young wife, whom he had married on the day of
 his departure. He had worked as a teamster, and joined the police
 force on December 15, 1884, being assigned to duty at the Rawson
 Street Station. He left a wife and three small children.

[Illustration: THE DESPLAINES STREET STATION.

From a Photograph.]

 NELS HANSEN—Fourth Precinct; residence, No. 28 Fowler Street;
 received shell wounds in body, arms and legs, and one of his limbs had
 to be amputated. He lost considerable blood, but lingered along in
 intense agony until May 14, when he died. He was a native of Sweden,
 having came to Chicago a great number of years ago, joining the force
 December 15, 1884, and was about fifty years of age. He left a wife
 and two children.

 TIMOTHY SULLIVAN, of the Third Precinct, was the last to die from the
 effects of the Haymarket riot; this brave officer lingered until June
 13, 1888. He resided at No. 123 Hickory Street, and was a widower,
 four children mourning his loss. The illness from which he died was
 the direct result of a bullet wound just above the left knee.

The following is a list of the wounded officers belonging to the Third
Precinct:

 August C. Keller; residence, No. 36 Greenwich Street; shell wound in
 right side and ball wound in left side; wife and five children.

 Thomas McHenry; residence, 376 W. Polk Street; shell wound in left
 knee and three shell wounds in left hip; single; had a sister and
 blind mother to support.

 John E. Doyle, 142½ W. Jackson Street; bullet wounds in back and calf
 of each leg; serious; wife and one child.

 John A. King, 1411 Wabash Avenue; jaw-bone fractured by shell and two
 bullet wounds in right leg below the knee; serious; single.

 Nicholas Shannon, Jr., No. 24 Miller Street; thirteen shell wounds on
 right side and five shell wounds on left side; serious; wife and three
 children.

 James Conway, No. 185 Morgan Street; bullet wound in right leg; single.

 Patrick Hartford, No. 228 Noble Street; shell wound in right ankle,
 two toes on left foot amputated, bullet wound in left side; wife and
 four children.

 Patrick Nash, Desplaines Street Station; bruises on left shoulder,
 inflicted by a stick; single.

 Arthur Connolly, No. 318 West Huron Street; two shell wounds in left
 leg; bone slightly fractured; wife.

 Louis Johnson, No. 40 West Erie Street; shell wound in left leg; wife
 and four children.

 M. M. Cardin, No. 18 North Peoria Street; bullet wound in calf of each
 leg; wife and two children.

 Adam Barber, No. 321 West Jackson Street; shell wound left leg, bullet
 wound in right breast; bullet not extracted; wife and one child.

 Henry F. Smith, bullet wound in right shoulder; quite serious, wife
 and two children in California.

 Frank Tyrell, No. 228 Lincoln Street; bullet in right hip near spine;
 wife and two children; wife sick in County Hospital at the time of the
 riot.

 James A. Brady, No. 146 West Van Buren Street; shell wound in left
 leg, slight injury to toes of left foot and shell wound in left thigh;
 single.

 John Reed, No. 237 South Halsted Street; shell wound in left leg and
 bullet wound in right knee; bullet not removed; single.

 Patrick McLaughlin, No. 965 Thirty-seventh Court; bruised on right
 side, leg and hip, injuries slight; wife and two children.

 Frank Murphy, No. 980 Walnut Street; trampled on, three ribs broken;
 wife and three children.

 Lawrence Murphy, No. 317½ Fulton Street; shell wounds on left side of
 neck and left knee, part of left foot amputated; wife.

 Michael Madden, No. 119 South Green Street; shot in left lung on May
 5th, after which he shot and killed his Anarchist assailant; wife and
 seven children.

The following belonged to the West Lake Street Station of the Third
Precinct:

 Lieut. James P. Stanton, residence No. 584 Carroll Avenue; shell wound
 in right side, bullet wound in right hip, bullet wound in calf of leg;
 wife and three children.

 Thomas Brophy, No. 25 Nixon Street; slight injury to left leg;
 reported for duty; wife.

 Bernard Murphy, No. 325 East Twenty-second Street; bullet wound in
 left thigh, shell wound on right side of head and chin; not dangerous;
 wife.

 Charles H. Fink, No. 154 South Sangamon Street; three shell wounds in
 left leg and two wounds in right leg; not dangerous; wife.

 Joseph Norman, No. 612 Walnut Street; bullet passed through right foot
 and slight injury to finger on left hand; wife and two children.

 Peter Butterly, No. 436 West Twelfth Street; bullet wound in right arm
 and small wound on each leg near knee; wife and one child.

 Alexander Jamison, No. 129 Gurley Street; bullet wound in left leg;
 serious; wife and seven children.

 Michael Horan, bullet wound in left thigh, not removed; slight shell
 wound on left arm; single.

 Thomas Hennessy, No. 287 Fulton Street; shell wound on left thigh,
 slight; has mother, who is crippled, and two sisters to support.

 William Burns, No. 602 West Van Buren Street; slight shell wound on
 left ankle; single.

 James Plunkett, No. 15½ Depuyster Street; struck with club and
 trampled upon; wife.

 Charles W. Whitney, No. 453 South Robey Street; shell wound in left
 breast; shell not removed; single.

 Jacob Hansen, No. 137 North Morgan Street; right leg amputated over
 the knee, three shell wounds in left leg; wife and one child.

 Martin Cullen, No. 236 Washtenaw Avenue; right collar bone fractured
 and slight injury to left knee; wife and five children.

 Simon Klidzis, No. 158 Carroll Street; shot in calf of left leg;
 serious; wife and three children.

 Julius L. Simonson, No. 241 West Huron Street; shot in arm near
 shoulder; very serious; wife and two children.

 John K. McMahon, No. 118 North Green Street; shell wound in calf
 of left leg, shell not found; ball wound left leg near knee, very
 serious; wife and two children.

 Simon McMahon, No. 913 North Ashland Avenue; shot in right arm and two
 wounds in right leg; wife and five children.

 Edward W. Ruel, No. 136 North Peoria Street; shot in right ankle,
 bullet not removed; serious; single.

 Alexander Halvorson, No. 850 North Oakley Avenue; shot in both legs,
 ball not extracted; single.

 Carl E. Johnson, No. 339 West Erie Street; shot in left elbow; wife
 and two children.

 Peter McCormick, No. 473 West Erie Street; slight shot wound in left
 arm; wife.

 Christopher Gaynor, No. 45 Fay Street; slight bruise on left arm; wife.

The following belonged to the Fourth Precinct:

 S. J. Werneke, No. 73 West Division Street; shot in left side of head,
 ball not found; serious; wife and two children.

 Patrick McNulty, No. 691 North Leavitt Street; shot in right leg and
 both hips; dangerous; wife and three children.

 Samuel Hilgo, No. 452 Milwaukee Avenue; shot in right leg; not
 serious; single.

 Herman Krueger, No. 184 Ramsey Street; shot in right knee; not
 serious; wife and two children.

 Joseph A. Gilso, No. 8 Emma Street; slightly injured in back and leg;
 not serious; wife and six children.

 Edward Barrell, No. 297 West Ohio Street; shot in right leg; quite
 serious; wife and six children.

 Freeman Steele, No. 30 Rice Street; slightly wounded in back; not
 serious; single.

 James P. Johnson, No. 740 Dixon Street; right knee sprained; not
 serious; wife and three children.

 Benjamin F. Snell, No. 138 Mozart Street; shot in right leg; not
 serious; single.

The following belonged to the Central Detail:

 James H. Wilson, No. 810 Austin Avenue; seriously injured in abdomen
 by shell; wife and five children.

 Daniel Hogan, No. 526 Austin Avenue; shot in calf of right leg and
 hand; very serious; wife and daughter.

 M. O’Brien, No. 495 Fifth Avenue; shell wound in left thigh; very
 serious; wife and two children.

 Fred A. Andrew, No. 1018 North Halsted Street; wounded in leg, not
 serious; wife.

 [Illustration: THE HAYMARKET MARTYRS.

  1. John J. Barrett.
  2. Michael Sheehan.
  3. Timothy Flavin.
  4. Timothy Sullivan.
  5. Thomas Redden.
  6. Mathias J. Degan.
  7. Nels Hansen.
  8. George Muller.]

 Jacob Ebinger, No. 235 Thirty-seventh Street; shell wound in back of
 left hand; not serious; wife and three children.

 John J. Kelley, No. 194 Sheffield Avenue; shell wound on left hand;
 not serious; wife and three children.

 Patrick Lavin, No. 42 Sholto Street; finger hurt by shell; married.


 Officer Terrehll had a shell wound in the right thigh.

 Patrick Hartford had an opening in the ankle joint. The shell was
 removed. A portion of his left foot, with the toes, was carried away.

 Arthur Conelly had a compound fracture of the tibia. The shell struck
 him about two inches below the knee, tore away a piece of bone of the
 fibula, perforated the tibia and lodged about the middle of the large
 bone of the leg, a short distance below the knee. A piece of shell was
 removed.

 Lawrence Murphy had fifteen shell wounds, one in the neck, three or
 four in the arms, and one in his left foot; the last, weighing almost
 an ounce and a half, lodged at the base of the great toe and left his
 foot hanging by a piece of skin. The foot had to be amputated about
 two inches farther back. He had a piece two inches square taken out of
 the anterior surface of his leg. He had two perforating wounds in the
 left thigh and a number in the right.

 Edward Barrett had two shell wounds in the neighborhood of the knee
 joint, turning out large pieces of flesh and leaving ragged wounds on
 the surface.

 J. H. King was struck in the chin by a piece of shell which went
 through his upper lip; another piece carried away about an inch of his
 lower jaw-bone.

 J. H. Grady had severe flesh wounds, both in the thigh and legs. Some
 pieces of shell were taken out of them.

 John Doyle had several wounds about the legs, in the neighborhood of
 the knee joint.

The list shows the character of the wounds and the condition of the
officers just after the eventful night. Some of those who died lingered
along for some time after, but the name of Timothy Sullivan was the
last to add to the death-list. Some of the sixty-eight wounded men
have since returned to active duty, but many are maimed for life and
incapacitated for work.

It is impossible to say how many of the Anarchists were killed or
wounded. As soon as they were in a condition to be moved, those in
the Desplaines Street Station were turned over to their relatives and
friends. The Anarchists have never attempted to give a correct list,
or even an approximate estimate, of the men wounded or killed on their
side. The number, however, was largely in excess of that on the side
of the police. After the moment’s bewilderment, the officers dashed
on the enemy and fired round after round. Being good marksmen, they
fired to kill, and many revolutionists must have gone home, either
assisted by comrades or unassisted, with wounds that resulted fatally
or maimed them for life. Some of those in the station had dangerous
wounds, and they were for the most part men who had become separated,
in the confusion, from their companions, or trampled upon so that they
could not get up and limp to a safe place. It is known that many secret
funerals were held from Anarchist localities in the dead hour of night.
For many months previous to the Haymarket explosion the Anarchists had
descanted loudly on the destructive potency of dynamite. One bomb, they
maintained, was equivalent to a regiment of militia. A little dynamite,
properly put up, could be carried in a vest pocket and used to destroy
a large body of police. They probably reasoned that if it was known
that many more of their number had fallen than on the side of the
police, it would not only tend to diminish the faith of their adherents
in the real virtues of dynamite, but would prove that the police were
more than able to cope with the Social Revolution, even though the
revolutionists depended on that powerful agency. The public is not,
therefore, likely ever to know how many of their number suffered.



CHAPTER X.

 The Core of the Conspiracy—Search of the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_
 Office—The Captured Manuscript—Jealousies in the Police
 Department—The Case Threatened with Failure—Stupidity at the
 Central Office—Fischer Brought In—Rotten Detective Work—The Arrest
 of Spies—His Egregious Vanity—An Anarchist “Ladies’ Man”—Wine
 Suppers with the Actresses—Nina Van Zandt’s Antecedents—Her
 Romantic Connection with the Case—Fashionable Toilets—Did Spies
 Really Love Her?—His Curious Conduct—The Proxy Marriage—The End
 of the Romance—The Other Conspirators—Mrs. Parsons’ Origin—The
 Bomb-Thrower in Custody—The Assassin Kicked Out of the Chief’s
 Office—Schnaubelt and the Detectives—Suspicious Conduct at
 Headquarters—Schnaubelt Ordered to Keep Away From the City Hall—An
 Amazing Incident—A Friendly Tip to a Murderer—My Impressions of the
 Schnaubelt Episode—Balthasar Rau and Mr. Furthmann—Phantom Shackles
 in a Pullman—Experiments with Dynamite—An Explosive Dangerous to
 Friend and Foe—Testing the Bombs—Fielden and the Chief.


IT was not difficult to locate the moral responsibility for the bold
and bloody attack on law and authority. The seditious utterances of
such men as Spies, Parsons, Fielden, Schwab and other leaders at public
gatherings for weeks and months preceding the eight-hour strike, and
the defiant declarations of such papers as the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_
and the _Alarm_, clearly pointed to the sources from which came the
inspiration for the crowning crime of Anarchy. It was likewise a
strongly settled conviction that the thrower of the bomb was not simply
a Guiteau-like crank, but that there must have been a deliberate,
organized conspiracy, of which he was a duly constituted agent. In the
work, therefore, of getting at the inside facts, the points sought
were: What was the exact nature of that conspiracy, and who constituted
the chief conspirators? The possession of every detail in connection
with these two points was absolutely necessary in order to fix the
criminal responsibility, and to the solution of this problem the
officers bent all their energies.

The detectives were well aware that the office of the
_Arbeiter-Zeitung_ had been the headquarters for the central,
controlling body of the Anarchist organizations in Chicago, and on the
morning following the explosion Inspector Bonfield determined to raid
the establishment and bring in such of the leaders as might be found
there. Several detectives were assigned to this duty, and they soon
returned, having under arrest August Spies, his brother Chris, Michael
Schwab and Adolph Fischer. These were locked up at the Central Station.
Shortly thereafter fifteen or sixteen compositors of the paper were
arrested and brought to the same place. They were a meek-looking set,
and were visibly moved with fear.

Immediately after 12 o’clock, State’s Attorney Grinnell, Assistant
State’s Attorney Furthmann, Lieut. Joseph Kipley, Lieut. John D.
Shea, Detectives James Bonfield, Slayton, Baer, Palmer, Thehorn and
several other officers repaired to the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ building
and made a most thorough search of every room in the premises. A lot
of manuscript was found on hooks attached to the printers’ cases,
and this was carefully wrapped up and taken away. The files of the
_Arbeiter-Zeitung_ and _Alarm_ were also piled into a wagon and carted
to the Central Station.

[Illustration: ADOLPH FISCHER.

From a Photograph taken by the Police.]

Subsequent investigation by Mr. Furthmann of all the scraps of paper
brought over by the police revealed Spies’ manuscript with the signal
word “Ruhe,” the manuscript of the “Revenge Circular,” issued on the
afternoon of May 4, the manuscript for the “Y, come Monday night”
notice, Spies’ copy of the article headed “Blood,” published in the
_Arbeiter-Zeitung_ of May 4, and a number of other documents damaging
in their character. This discovery was regarded as highly important,
and in the trial it proved extremely serviceable to the State. It
likewise served, as will be shown, in furnishing a point by which, when
I came to take up the case I was enabled to finally lay bare the whole
conspiracy from its inception to its conclusion.

With the clues obtained from the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ office, the
officers were enabled to put some pointed questions to the prisoners,
but they failed to properly utilize even the meager information they
had managed to extract. At this time the Police Department, from the
Chief to the detective branch, was rent with rivalries, dissensions and
jealousies, and it did not require much frowning or many innuendoes
from the one to destroy in the other any special interest in pursuing a
clue to its legitimate results. At the start all the officers were on
a keen scent, and while outwardly all seemed working like Trojans in
order to meet public expectations, which was keyed up to its highest
pitch, not alone in Chicago but throughout the country, still the fear
that one might get the credit for the work done by another operated to
destroy discipline and deaden personal enthusiasm. Outside events alone
prevented a complete failure in the prosecution.

The arrested Anarchists, however, knew nothing of these dissensions.
All they knew was that public indignation was strong against them, and
they realized that they were in a very embarrassing situation.

[Illustration: THE FISCHER FAMILY. From a Photograph.]

FISCHER seemed to feel his position at the station more keenly than
the others. On his arrest he was found to have in his possession a
44-caliber revolver, a file sharpened so as to make it serviceable
as a dagger, and a detonation cap, and, as he was the foreman of the
compositors in the office, his trepidation may have been caused by a
suspicion that possibly the officers took him to be the leader of an
armed gang among them. Before the raid on the office it appears that he
had endeavored to hide these weapons, but he had been unable to unload
himself, as the others in the office would not consent to concealment
in their vicinity, lest discovery in the event of an investigation
might criminate them in the conspiracy. Fischer was on his way down
stairs to find a hiding-place for his weapons at the very moment when
he was overtaken by the police and relieved of all further trouble.
The dagger was a peculiar instrument, and it was the general opinion
of those who examined it that it had been dipped in some deadly poison
from which, through a slight scratch or through a deep plunge of the
weapon, death would be speedy.

Fischer always seemed thoroughly unscrupulous as to the means to be
used to bring about the death of capitalists, and he never tired of
uttering dire threats against the foes of Socialism. He was a tall,
lithe and muscular-looking man, and, with a resolute purpose, he
impressed his comrades as one who would not easily be balked. It is
difficult to determine just how Fischer came to imbibe his bloodthirsty
principles, as little is known of his antecedents. At the time of his
arrest he was twenty-seven years old and married. He had been in the
United States thirteen or fourteen years. He had learned the printer’s
trade in Nashville, Tenn., working for a brother who conducted there
a German paper. Subsequently he acquired an interest in a German
publication at Little Rock, Ark., and in 1881 he moved to St. Louis,
where he worked at the case and where he became known for his extreme
ideas on Socialism. He soon found his way to Chicago, where he felt
satisfied he would find more congenial spirits in the work upon which
he had set his heart. Here he became associated with Engel and Fehling
in the publication of a German paper, the _Anarchist_, but as this
did not live long, he became a compositor on the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_.
Wherever he was, he always talked Anarchy and showed a most implacable
hatred of existing society.

When brought to the station, Fischer weakened perceptibly, but
afterwards braced up and yielded no information except as to his
whereabouts for several days prior to the Haymarket meeting. He had no
love for the police, and he did everything in his power to trip us up
in our subsequent investigations. From the moment of his arrest to the
day of his execution he adopted a most secretive policy.

[Illustration: FISCHER’S BELT AND POISONED DAGGERS.

From a Photograph.]

SPIES also weakened at first when brought into the station, almost
trembling with fear, but, after the first flush of excitement had
passed, he took on an air of bravado, and exhibited a bold front in
spite of the documentary disclosures against him. He became glib of
tongue, but stoutly denied any knowledge of a conspiracy to precipitate
a riot at the Haymarket. He was savagely denounced by Superintendent
Ebersold, but he stood his ground and resolved to act the part of the
innocent victim. His active participation in all large demonstrations,
notably those at the McCormick factory and the Haymarket, made him a
splendid mark for critical examination, but every effort to extract
definite information proved futile.

[Illustration: AUGUST SPIES.

From a Photograph taken by the Police.]

Spies was a young man of considerable ability, having enjoyed more
than a common school education in Germany, and in all his talks he
demonstrated that he had been a diligent reader of history and an
enthusiastic student of Socialism and Anarchy. With all his reading,
however, it was apparent that he had not carefully digested his
information. He always acted as if self-conscious of great knowledge.
He was a strong and effective speaker, but in all his harangues there
seemed to be lacking the element of sincerity. For a long time some of
his associates doubted if he really meant what he said, and there are
Anarchists to-day who do not believe that he was at any time really in
earnest in his public utterances. They think that he exerted himself
simply for the purpose of being looked upon as a popular leader and
hero, and that he worked for the cause only as a means of obtaining an
easy living. He was exceedingly vain and pompous, and courted public
notoriety.

Spies had received a very good salary as editor of the
_Arbeiter-Zeitung_ and enjoyed nothing better than to write a fiery
editorial or deliver an incendiary speech. It all served to rivet
attention on himself. The more attention, the more it pleased his
vanity. His constant desire was to place himself on dress parade, so
to speak, and he generally sought out, when he lunched down town at
noon, some fashionable or crowded restaurant. He would strut to a table
which could only be reached by passing other crowded tables, and enjoy
the _sotto voce_ remarks as he passed or as he sat at the table he had
selected—“There is Spies, the noted Anarchist.” No common Anarchist,
lager-beer-and-pretzel lunch-houses suited him.

It was at a large restaurant, on the 3d of May, at noon, that he met
a well-known attorney, to whom he was introduced and with whom he
had some conversation of a joking, bantering nature. The attorney
testified before the grand jury subsequently as to this conversation,
and the substance of it will be found in the chapter devoted to a
review of its proceedings. But it transpires that there was some
further conversation that does not appear in the report of the grand
jury investigation, but which has since been brought out through
the recollection of another party, and, which, while it was given
in an off-hand way, fully showed that Spies desired to make a great
impression on the mind of his casual acquaintance as well as to
intimate the existence of some secret understanding for bringing
on bloodshed. On that occasion Spies, after being assured that the
attorney was not an Anarchist, remarked:

“You had better be one, for in less than twenty-four hours a Socialist,
well armed, with a market on his shoulder, will appear out of every
door, and whoever has not got the sign or pass-word will be shot down
in his tracks. I am about going out now to McCormick’s factory, west of
here, for the purpose of addressing a multitude of workingmen, and I
will raise h——l before I get through.”

Besides his fancy for popular restaurants, there was another
peculiarity about Spies. He frequently attended the German theaters,
ostensibly for the recreation he might find in the plays, but the
principal motive was the cultivation of the actresses’ acquaintance.
Introductions, which he sought eagerly, were followed by invitations to
wine suppers. He was good company, and his lady acquaintances were not
averse to accepting his invitations even though he was an Anarchist.
Possibly they doubted the sincerity of his convictions—although they
entertained no question about the reality of his cash. None of them,
however, seem to have visited him during his incarceration, save one, a
tall woman who now lives on Wells Street near Chicago Avenue.

During his troubles Spies made the acquaintance of a woman in another
station of life. It was during his trial that Miss Nina Van Zandt
became interested in him and espoused his cause. She had read of his
case, and there seemed to be a charm about his conduct as described in
the newspapers that prompted her to seek his acquaintance. She was a
young girl of rare beauty and considerable mental endowment, and she
had moved in the best society, but, notwithstanding her social position
and culture, she sought an introduction and soon fell desperately in
love with the Anarchist. She was an only child and the petted daughter
of parents of high social connections, and her immediate relatives were
wealthy people in Pittsburg. Her parents threw no obstacles in the
way of her attachment, and she espoused Spies’ cause with her whole
impetuous nature, and cast her lot with the conspirator and his rabble
of low-browed followers. It may have been love, but it was love which
could only have been the product of a disordered mind.

During the later stages of Spies’ trial she was a constant visitor at
the County Jail, frequently accompanied by her mother and sometimes by
her father, and on each occasion she would bring him some delicacy or
token of her esteem. Rare flowers and bouquets she either brought or
sent daily, and the affection she evinced seemed a growth of months
instead of days. She had great confidence in the jury and implicitly
believed that acquittal would result at their hands. Her presence
invariably graced the court-room, whenever possible, and the defendants
themselves could not have been more eager listeners to the proceedings.
When her love for Spies became publicly known, she attracted great
attention, but her demeanor would have led one to believe that she was
entirely unconscious of the notoriety she had achieved. This was not
the case. It rather pleased her, and, to still further intensify public
attention and curiosity, she made it a point to display a most varied
wardrobe during the progress of the trial. At the forenoon session
she would appear in court with one fashionable outfit, and this she
would change for an equally stunning attire in the afternoon. She had
a striking figure, was stately in appearance, dignified in manner, and
with a fine, handsome face, it was no wonder that she became an object
of marked attention, in the Court-house as well as upon the streets.

[Illustration: MISS NINA VAN ZANDT.

From a Photograph.]

But withal she never lost sight of her lover nor of the court
proceedings. Spies was in her mind constantly, and every movement
in the trial excited her closest attention. It was indeed a strange
infatuation she displayed for the Anarchist, and it was the more
strange since Spies seemed indifferent to her attentions. The public
gradually began to learn of this state of affairs through rumors and
newspaper reports, but the general opinion was that, if such was the
case, Spies had accepted her attentions simply as a matter either of
expediency or from an innate desire for notoriety on his part. The
public was right. Spies was playing for points, as billiardists would
say. To be sure, he received her kindly and very courteously, and
indulged in the expressions which lovers are wont to exchange, but
those who watched him closely and long could never discover that his
love came from the heart. He simply saw in her devotion and in her
standing in society a possible chance for favorably influencing the
minds of the jury, and thus, through her, he hoped to secure a release
from the troubles surrounding him. When this failed and death stared
him in the face, he still figured that she could prove serviceable to
him in influencing her wealthy relatives to aid him financially in
further conducting his case, or help him in some manner in effecting
a change in public sentiment. Such were undoubtedly his motives—at
least close observers of his actions hold that theory. When, later on,
things did not move exactly in the line he had hoped for, he willingly
assented to a marriage, and entered into the arrangements for its
celebration with apparent eagerness.

This course, Spies no doubt supposed, would demonstrate to the
unfeeling world that there existed a devout mutual attachment, and
his claims for interested consideration at the hands of her relatives
would become greatly strengthened. But it only proved his desperate
situation. His love had been questioned by the public, and marriage
was calculated to settle the doubt. The public did not take kindly to
the proposed ceremony. The moment the newspapers had announced such a
contemplated step, the utmost indignation was aroused, and protest upon
protest poured in upon Sheriff Matson. Mr. Matson promptly declared
that no marriage should take place between the two while Spies was
in his custody, and thereafter Miss Van Zandt was placed under the
strictest surveillance whenever she visited her affianced.

[Illustration: CHRIS SPIES.

From a Photograph taken by the Police.]

But all this unexpected interference in what he regarded as his own
business only tended to make Spies desperate, and, spurred on by his
outside Anarchist friends, who had likewise become indignant over a
public intermeddling in a love affair, he dropped his diplomacy and
resolved that the wishes of his ardent lady love should not be baffled
either by officials or by the public. Miss Nina in her unreasoning
infatuation readily acquiesced in the suggestion of a proxy marriage,
and Justice Engelhardt was consulted. This gentleman claimed that
under the statutes such a marriage would be valid, and he consented to
a performance of the ceremony. Accordingly, on the 29th of January,
1887, a proxy marriage was performed between Miss Nina and Chris Spies,
a brother of the doomed man. The attorneys of Chicago regarded the
ceremony as illegal, but the Anarchists considered it as binding as if
directly contracted.

Miss Nina continued her visits to the jail after this mock proceeding,
but lynx-eyed officials saw to it that there was no one present
during her interviews with Spies to secretly and legally splice them
together. She was devoted to him at all times and all the time, and
whenever she was not well enough to visit him for some days or was
kept away by other circumstances, she would write him tender missives
of love and encouragement. She clung to him to the last, and in their
final interview, two days preceding his execution, she wept most
bitterly.

[Illustration: MISS GRETCHEN SPIES.

From a Photograph.]

Her love was remarkable, but throughout it all Spies proved himself
wholly unworthy. He was a reprobate cunningly playing upon her
feelings, caring very little for her, and he must have known that her
station in life at that time made her an unsuitable companion. For him,
however, she renounced friends and all. After his death she went into
deep mourning, hung a cabinet photograph of him in the parlor window of
her father’s fashionable residence on Huron Street, and locked herself
in against the outer world for a number of days. She still cherishes
Spies’ memory and keeps in her parlor a marble bust of the executed
Anarchist. Recently she has been extending her acquaintanceship among
Anarchists outside of Chicago, and she has lately visited some of the
most rabid and demonstrative Socialists at Ottawa, Illinois.

Spies was born in Friedewald, in the province of Hesse, Germany,
in 1855. He came to America in 1872, and one year later arrived in
Chicago, where he engaged in various occupations until he relieved
Paul Grottkau as editor of the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ in 1876. His
identification with Socialism began in Chicago in 1875. He was
unmarried and supported his mother and a sister, Miss Gretchen Spies.
He has two brothers in Chicago, Chris and Henry.

[Illustration: MICHAEL SCHWAB.

From a Photograph taken by the Police.]

MICHAEL SCHWAB, when confronted by the officers, looked like an
exclamation point, and had his long, bushy hairs been porcupine quills,
each would have stood straight on end. He was bewildered, dumbfounded,
and there was a distant, far-off expression in his eye. He realized
that he was in trouble, and to the many questions put to him by the
officers he stammered apologetic but non-committal answers. It was
clearly to be seen that he had been like clay in the potter’s hand, a
mere dupe of his associates. He was far less talented and less active
than the other leaders, but still in his own way he had played quite
a conspicuous part in the Anarchist drama. He had seen something of
the world as a peripatetic book-binder. Through his varied experience,
his nature had grown irritable and crusty, and Anarchy seemed the only
thing suited to right the wrongs of mankind. He fell in with the ideas
of the cranks in Chicago, and soon wormed himself into an assistant
editorial position of $18 a week on the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_. In
appearance Schwab was ungainly and ferocious, but when put to the test
he was calm and mild as a lamb. The only thing really vicious about
him was in his incendiary writings and speeches. He aimed with his
limited capacity to be a great leader, but the moment he got into the
clutches of the law and found himself in peril of his life he retracted
everything which he had so persistently and stubbornly advocated. His
new troubles brought out the fact that he had written and spoken simply
for the money that was in the business, and not because he sincerely
believed in the theories he preached. He was at all times a supple tool
in the hands of Spies and Parsons, and during the remainder of his days
in the penitentiary he will have ample opportunities to repent of his
past misdeeds.

Schwab was born in the village of Kibringen-on-the-Main, near Mannheim,
in Bavaria, in 1853, and emigrated to the United States in 1879,
reaching Chicago in the year following. He afterwards traveled from
point to point in the West, roughed it a little, and three or four
years later drifted back to Chicago. He is a brother of the notorious
Anarchist of New York, Justus Schwab, and has a wife and two children,
who are now being supported by friends.

ALBERT R. PARSONS was another leader wanted by the police, and the
search for him was immediately instituted. Officers went to his
house only to discover that he had escaped, and for some time it was
believed that he was in hiding among his friends in the city. Every
effort, however, to find him failed, and there were all sorts of
speculations as to his whereabouts. It was found out afterwards that
he had become alarmed over the aspect of affairs resulting from the
Haymarket meeting, and, thinking “discretion the better part of valor,”
he had gathered a few dollars together, boarded an outgoing train,
and landed at Geneva, Ill., thoroughly disguised. He sought out the
home of a friend named Holmes, who cherished Anarchist sentiments, and
remained with him three or four days in concealment. With a dilapidated
outfit, he concluded to shift his abiding-place, and accordingly he
went to Elgin, Ill., where he was taken care of. From this point, in
the course of a few days, he went to Waukesha, Wis., and there hunted
around for work as a tramp carpenter. Waukesha is a great resort for
Chicago people, but no one recognized him in his changed appearance.
He succeeded in finding employment, and for some time worked as a
carpenter, unknown and undetected. The labor proving too arduous for
his undeveloped muscles and contrary to his principles as an Anarchist,
he began to look out for easier work, and this he managed to secure as
a painter. For seven weeks he remained at Waukesha, communicating with
his wife under an assumed name and through a third party living out of
Chicago.

[Illustration: ALBERT R. PARSONS.

From a Photograph.]

When the trial opened, the counsel for the Anarchists were confident
that the State had not sufficient evidence to convict, and upon
assurances from Capt. Black that an acquittal was certain, Parsons
decided to surrender himself to the authorities. He boarded a train,
reached the city, and, securing a hack, drove to his home, on Milwaukee
Avenue, where he met his wife. After remaining there for three or four
hours, he got into a hack, in company with Mrs. Parsons, and drove down
to the Criminal Court building. It was on the 21st of June, after Judge
Gary had overruled a motion for separate trials, that Parsons reached
the building. He alighted, tripped up the stairs, and entered the
court-room. If a bomb had exploded on the outside, it would scarcely
have created a greater surprise than the appearance of Parsons as he
stalked in and took his seat with the prisoners.

Parsons was born in Montgomery, Ala., June 20, 1848, and after he
had reached the age of five, his brother, Gen. W. H. Parsons, of
the Confederate army, took his education in charge at the latter’s
home in Tyler, Texas. When young Parsons was eleven years of age, he
learned the printer’s trade, and finally drifted into the service of
the Confederate army. After the “unpleasantness,” he branched out as
editor of a paper at Waco, Texas, and then connected himself with the
Houston _Telegraph_. He identified himself about this time with the
Republican party, and, taking an active part in politics, he became
Secretary of the State Senate under the Federal Government.

[Illustration: MRS. LUCY PARSONS.

From a Photograph.]

In 1872 he married a mulatto at Houston, and, being discarded by
his brother and friends, he emigrated with her to Chicago in 1873.
No sooner had he reached Chicago than he joined the Socialists. He
worked for a time as a newspaper compositor, but his radical ideas
and obtrusive arguments prevented him from holding any position
permanently. He eventually became editor of the _Alarm_ and depended
on his Anarchist friends for a livelihood. He was always active at
their meetings, both secret and public, and paraded himself as a labor
agitator. He managed to become a member of the Knights of Labor, but
that body as a whole, after seeing how extremely radical were his
theories, repudiated him.

When his troubles overtook him in connection with the trial, Parsons’
brother came to his defense and took a keen interest in his case,
working for him until the very last. Mrs. Parsons had early identified
herself with her husband’s views, and was one among several others to
organize a women’s branch of the Anarchists. She can make an effective
address, and she always took a leading part in extending the membership
of her union. On the question of her birth, she maintains that she
is of Mexican extraction, with no negro blood in her veins, but her
swarthy complexion and distinctively negro features do not bear out her
assertions. Since her husband’s execution she has appeared on the stump
in various parts of the United States, and she is now even more violent
than ever.

[Illustration: OSCAR W. NEEBE.

From a Photograph.]

OSCAR W. NEEBE was fortunate in the failure of the prosecution to show
his direct complicity in the Haymarket murder. There was no doubt as
to his active participation in all the plots of the Anarchist leaders,
and, had it not been for the loss of some important papers, he would
now be serving a life sentence instead of a fifteen years’ term in the
penitentiary. He took an active part in stirring up the members of the
Brewers’ Union after the McCormick riot, and he contributed no little
towards sending many of those members to the Haymarket meeting, ready
for violence and desperate deeds. Immediately following the Haymarket
slaughter, he was placed under arrest and taken to the Central Station
at the City Hall. He was there questioned in a general way, but the
near-sighted officials then in charge of that important department
were unable to see any reason for his detention and permitted him to
depart with his friend Schnaubelt, who had been gathered in about the
same time. This led him to believe that he had friends at the Central
Headquarters. His belief in his “influence” was somewhat shaken,
however, when I ordered a search of his house on the 8th of May. The
officers on that occasion found one Springfield rifle, one Colt’s
38-caliber revolver, one sword and belt of the Lehr und Wehr Verein,
a red flag, a transparency, a lot of circulars calling different
meetings, including the one calling for “revenge,” and several cards
of Anarchist groups, and with all these and other evidence of his
connection with the great conspiracy, I went before the grand jury
and had him indicted for conspiracy to murder. On the 27th of May,
about 6 o’clock, Deputy Sheriff Alexander Reed called at the Chicago
Avenue Station and asked me for assistance to arrest Neebe under the
indictment. I detailed Officer Whalen for this duty, and the two
called at the man’s house, No. 307 Sedgwick Street. The deputy sheriff
informed Neebe that he was under arrest, and the officer explained the
nature of the charge against him. They told him that they would be
obliged to take him to the County Jail.

Neebe smiled when notified of the charge, and remarked in a most
careless manner:

“Is that all? That’s nothing. I will get out on bail right away.”

But he did not; he had to linger for a long time.

Neebe was born in the State of New York, in 1850, of German parents,
and since his location in Chicago he had succeeded in establishing a
prosperous business in the sale of yeast to grocers and traders. He was
ambitious to distinguish himself in other directions, however, and he
chose Anarchy as a basis for building up a reputation as a leader among
men. He achieved considerable notoriety, as he was active, energetic
and pushing, and at the time of the Board of Trade demonstration he
acted as chief marshal of the procession.

Neebe was in the habit of taking members of the North Side group to
Sheffield, Ind., for the purpose of practicing and experimenting with
dynamite bombs. It was on one of these experimenting excursions that
he lost the joints of all the fingers of his right hand by a premature
explosion. When questioned about it, he told all his friends and even
his own family that he had lost his fingers in assisting a friend to
lift a sharp building-stone on the South Side. His family physician was
asked with reference to the matter, and, after some hesitation, finally
stated that Neebe had admitted that he had lost his fingers through the
explosion of a bomb. In the explanation Neebe gave to his friends he
overlooked the fact that if a sharp building-stone had taken off his
fingers it would not have taken his thumb, because that member of the
hand is never in a position to be crushed when one lifts a heavy stone.

After his trial and conviction, Neebe’s wife and little children often
visited him at the jail, and Mrs. Neebe sought as well as she could to
raise his drooping spirits. But she subsequently took sick, and after
a short illness died. A most demonstrative funeral was arranged by
the Anarchists. The hall in which the ceremonies were conducted was
profusely decorated with flowers and emblems of mourning. Under most
binding pledges on the part of the Anarchists, Sheriff Matson permitted
Neebe, under proper official escort, to take a last look at the remains
of his wife at the residence, and the scene was a most impressive one.
Mrs. Neebe had been a firm believer in the doctrines advocated by her
husband, but his friends claimed that the unexpected troubles of the
family had precipitated sickness and brought on death. At one time
it was thought that some serious disturbance might grow out of the
demonstration, and that, with Neebe back at his home, an attempt at his
rescue from the hands of the county officials might be made. But the
police were present to see that order was maintained. The only thing
bordering on disorder was the fiery speeches of the orators at the
hall to which the remains were first taken, and from which an immense
procession started to the place of burial.

The death of his wife was a severe blow to Neebe. Verily, the way
of the transgressor is hard. He was subsequently removed to the
penitentiary, and possibly by the time his sentence expires he may
be able to see life in a different light than through Anarchist
spectacles.

[Illustration: RUDOLPH SCHNAUBELT, THE BOMB-THROWER.

From a photograph.]

RUDOLPH SCHNAUBELT is indeed a fortunate man, and, wherever he is
at present, he must be felicitating himself on his escape from a
felon’s death. On the morning of May 5, after all the help in the
_Arbeiter-Zeitung_ had been arrested, Schnaubelt was gathered in and
taken to the Central Station. He was suspected of complicity in the
conspiracy, but there seemed to be so “little against the young man,”
that he was promptly released without the slightest pains being taken
to inquire into his antecedents. Under the free and easy system then
prevailing in the department, there seemed to be no idea that officers
were employed for other purposes than simply drawing salaries. I looked
carefully into the release of Schnaubelt, and the more I saw of it,
the more I was convinced that the examination of this most important
prisoner was the same kind of investigation as those one could have
seen at some of the primaries three or four years ago, when, if a man
happened to be of a certain political faith, he would be passed along
with the remark, “He’s all right,” and permitted to vote. Schnaubelt
was simply asked two or three questions and then allowed to go. The
stupid detectives knew he was a close friend of Spies and Fielden, who
were already locked up, and to prove that friendship now that they
were in trouble, Schnaubelt frequently dropped in at the City Hall to
inquire after them. He continued to hang around under the tolerance
of the officials, and I have always believed that the only thing that
saved him from being locked up was the fortunate circumstance that no
one put a sign on his back reading that he was the bomb-thrower.

Officers Palmer and Cosgrove had managed to get a slight clue against
this man, and they arrested him again on the 6th of May. They stated
their case to Lieut. John D. Shea, and by him the arrest was reported
to his superior officer. What was the result? Shea did not care to be
bothered with the case. The head of the department likewise did not
care to be troubled. They accordingly saved themselves all further
annoyance by telling Schnaubelt to go away. The prisoner, with singular
stolidity, did not seem to care particularly, and had to be told again
that he was at liberty to go where he pleased. It is a wonder that the
officials did not offer him a cigar in acknowledgment of their kindly
feelings. When Schnaubelt was released, Officer Palmer remonstrated
with the Lieutenant, but he was told to let the man alone and not
bring him there any more. That ended the matter with the officer.
Several other detectives had meanwhile learned of Schnaubelt’s close
friendship with Spies and other Anarchists, but when they learned
of the instructions Officers Palmer and Cosgrove had received they
likewise dropped all investigations when they reached Schnaubelt. The
man naturally felt pleased at such friendly favor and remained in the
city until about the 13th of May.

It was on the 14th of May that I first received information about the
part Schnaubelt had played in all the Anarchist meetings and that I
learned something of his special intimacy with Fischer and Balthasar
Rau.

“You get him,” said my informant, “and I will tell you something
interesting that will surprise everybody.”

At this time the man was called Schnabel, and the information was that
he was working in a store on the South Side. I at once sent Officers
Whalen and Stift to hunt him up. While engaged in the search they met
Officers Palmer and Cosgrove. Whalen explained their mission, and then
Palmer asked:

“Are you not afraid to arrest him?”

Whalen wanted to know why there should be any fear in the case, and
Palmer remarked:

“Well, you are running a chance of getting yourselves in trouble. We
wanted to arrest Schnaubelt in the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ office, and we
were not allowed to do so. We found him, Neebe, Fischer, Mrs. Parsons,
Mrs. Schwab and Mrs. Holmes in the editor’s room. Shea told us not
to arrest him, that he was a ‘big stiff,’ and then and there he told
Schnaubelt to get away from there or he would kick him out. All the
others were arrested, but he was let go. I was detailed to remain
around the building. Schnaubelt came around there again afterwards, and
I arrested him and took him to the Central Station. There the man was
told to go and get out. On the next day he came around there again.
I had in the meantime obtained a little information about him, and I
arrested him and took him to the Central Station. I was again asked if
I had not been told to let him alone and was curtly informed that I was
altogether too officious. Schnaubelt was again released. I explained
that he was a partner of Fischer, that he had the big revolver and
dagger; but it was no use—he was permitted to leave.”

Officer Whalen replied: “We work for a different man, and I would like
to see Schnaubelt if he is in the city.”

Officer Gosgrove remarked that he knew where the man was working, and
the two officers proffered their services to pilot Whalen and Stift to
the place. They went to No. 224 Washington Street, third floor, but on
reaching there they learned that “the bird had flown.” He had not even
drawn the wages due him, having sent his sister after the money. It
subsequently transpired that Schnaubelt was the very man who had thrown
the bomb at the Haymarket, but he had “taken time by the forelock” and
skipped for parts unknown. Possibly he had got tired of being kicked
out of the office of the Chief of Police and left Chicago in disgust,
or possibly his friends at the Central Station may have given him a
“tip” to save himself from serious trouble.

Some two weeks thereafter I received information as to where Schnaubelt
could be found.

I told Mr. Grinnell what I had learned, and he asked me to send a few
men at once and get him. I informed Mr. Grinnell that I could not
detail officers outside of the city limits without the consent of the
Chief. Mr. Grinnell thought I had better do so anyway. I insisted that
I must see the Chief first, and Mr. Grinnell remarked:

“If you do, that will be the end of that matter.”

I went, however, to the Chief’s office, and stated my business. I was
there told that they would get the man. The Chief said that he would
go out to California and thus head him off. I reported back to Mr.
Grinnell the result of my interview, and he remarked:

“Well, that is just what I expected—jealousy, and that is all.”

Schnaubelt thus had a good friend at the City Hall, and he cannot thank
the officers there too much for having saved him the painful necessity
of going down to death on the 11th of November, 1887, with the other
conspirators.

BALTHASAR RAU was another man who did not tarry in Chicago. He had been
a faithful lieutenant of Spies and had earned a living as solicitor
for the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_. He took a keen interest in all of Spies’
plans, and on Saturday afternoon preceding the day of the riot visited
the vicinity of McCormick’s factory to secure points about the strike
for his friend’s information. He reported that ten thousand striking
lumber-shovers had met on that day and had appointed a committee to
wait upon the lumber bosses to induce them to inaugurate the eight-hour
system in the various yards. Rau had seen the gathering, and, as
the committee appointed by it were to report to another meeting the
following Monday, he knew that it would bring together just such a
throng, if not a larger one than the previous assemblage. He so posted
Spies, and in turn was advised by his friend to insert in the _Fackel_
of Sunday, May 2, the notice “Y, come Monday night,” which was the
signal for the armed groups to meet that night at No. 54 West Lake
Street. The bandits did meet, and matured the conspiracy which was
carried out the following night at the Haymarket. On Monday Rau went
with Spies to McCormick’s factory, aided in inciting the people to a
riot, and then accompanied his friend to the strikers’ headquarters on
Lake Street, where they informed the people that ten or twelve of their
brother workmen had been brutally shot down by the “bloodhounds”—the
police—that afternoon.

[Illustration: BALTHASAR RAU.

From a Photograph taken by the Police.]

In consequence of his intimacy with Spies, Rau was at once—and the
only one at first—suspected of being the thrower of the fatal bomb.
He seemed to realize that he was under suspicion, for he speedily left
the city after the explosion. Assistant State’s Attorney Furthmann
learned that he had fled to Omaha and promptly repaired to that city.
By instructions, James Bonfield was to secure the necessary requisition
papers for Rau’s extradition from the State of Nebraska and was to
follow Furthmann to Omaha. The Assistant State’s Attorney found Rau
willing to talk, and asked him to write as he had been dictated, to the
text of the signal, “Y, come Monday night.” Rau promptly discovered
that Furthmann knew some of the inside facts in the conspiracy, and
tremblingly asked what he could do to save his neck from the rope. He
was informed that nothing short of “unconditional surrender” would help
him out of his scrape, and that he must not keep back any information.
He then unbosomed himself and told everything he knew.

While these things were taking place the leaders of the Anarchist group
in Omaha were collecting money to take Rau away from Mr. Furthmann by
_habeas corpus_ proceedings. Rau had meanwhile been locked up in a cell
where he could not easily be reached by his friends, and, as he did
not like his surroundings, he was anxious to return to Chicago even
without extradition papers. It was on a Monday before daylight that
he agreed to go, and Mr. Furthmann promptly took him across the river
to Council Bluffs, in the State of Iowa, to avoid litigation, as he
had learned that the Omaha judge was ready and willing to assist the
Anarchists of that section in effecting Rau’s release. At this time the
extradition papers had not arrived. On taking up the trip to Chicago
Rau became more communicative than ever and entered into details quite
interestingly.

Some one in the parlor car which conveyed them to Chicago recognized
Mr. Furthmann, and it was whispered around:

“There’s Furthmann with the bomb-thrower!”

A flutter of excitement speedily developed, and soon a demand was
made on Furthmann that unless he handcuffed Rau the passengers would
object to his sitting in the parlor car, and they certainly would not
allow Rau to sleep in the same car unless shackles were placed about
his limbs. A great deal of parleying ensued. Finally Mr. Furthmann
consented to appease the now thoroughly frightened passengers. Only one
condition was imposed by Mr. Furthmann, and that was that the handcuffs
and shackles should be furnished, as he had none in his possession.
The implements were immediately telegraphed for, and were on hand when
Cedar Rapids was reached. But the idea of handcuffing and shackling
a man who was willingly returning without extradition papers was
repulsive to Mr. Furthmann.

A novel thought flashed through the Assistant State’s Attorney’s mind.
He informed Rau of everything that had transpired, and told him that
he did not desire to shackle him in any way. But for the purpose of
quieting the passengers he would rattle the iron bracelets around in
good shape if Rau would give up his coat, vest, pantaloons, shirt,
drawers, stockings and shoes and hat during the night. This was done,
and the passengers, hearing the rattling of the chains at intervals
during the night, rested in the sweet confidence that a violent
outburst on the part of a wild Anarchist had been averted.

The prisoner was safely landed in Chicago, and not a handcuff or
shackle had been placed about him. He was taken to the Chicago Avenue
Station, and there put through an examination by State’s Attorney
Grinnell.

In the statement he made to Mr. Grinnell and myself Rau gave his age as
thirty, his occupation as that of a printer, and his residence as No.
418 Larrabee Street.

“We had,” he said, “an excursion to Sheffield, Indiana, and there were
present August Spies, Schwab, Neebe, Engel and Schnaubelt. Those are
the only ones I can now remember. Engel and Schnaubelt were the ones to
set dynamite bombs for experiments.”

“Why do you good people use dynamite bombs, and what do you intend to
do with them?” asked Mr. Grinnell.

Rau hesitated, but finally replied: “The time we shot off the dynamite
bombs at Sheffield, at the time of the explosion there were only a few
of us present. They were the parties whose names I have given and a
man who came with Engel. We exploded only two bombs, and they were made
of iron and were round.”

“What is the meaning and for what purpose does that letter ‘Y’ appear
in the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_?” asked Mr. Furthmann.

“The last time I saw it was on Sunday, May 2, 1886. The Sunday issue
of the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ is called the _Fackel_. Lorenz Hermann was
requested to have the letter ‘Y’ inserted in the paper, and it was
printed in the issue mentioned. He brought the notice to the office.
We did not charge anything for notices brought in by the members of
the armed section. And that letter ‘Y’ was intended to signify that
there would be a meeting at No. 54 West Lake Street, May 3, for the
armed men. I was at Zepf’s Hall at a meeting held Monday, May 3. I
had with me a lot of ‘Revenge’ circulars, calling people to arms. I
gave the circulars to the boys who were present at the meeting. It
was after nine o’clock. One meeting had been called by the carpenters
for that night. August Belz is the man who told me the meaning of the
word. He asked me at Greif’s Hall if I knew the meaning of the word
‘Ruhe,’ and if I knew what effect its publication would have. He then
told me that they had agreed that the word ‘Ruhe’ should apply to a
meeting at the Haymarket. If it appeared in the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_,
he said, then there would be trouble. The trouble would be fighting
the police, storming buildings and throwing dynamite bombs. When I saw
that word in the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_, I was working in the office of
that paper. I remarked to August Spies that that would make trouble in
the city, and his answer was that Fischer did it, meaning that Fischer
was responsible for it. Spies, after I had told him what trouble it
would make, got excited and called Schnaubelt. Spies asked him, ‘How
is this?’ referring to the word ‘Ruhe.’ Schnaubelt replied, ‘Well,
they want to throw dynamite bombs.’ He also said that if the police
interfered, then there would be trouble at the Haymarket. He further
said that the people stationed on the outskirts of the city, east,
west, south and north, should be informed as to when the riot commenced
and when their time had arrived for storming the city. When Fischer was
asked about this word ‘Ruhe’ he was close-mouthed. He would not say
anything to us. I heard Spies say in his office, ‘If that word “Ruhe”
is in the paper, there will be trouble, and I don’t want that. That
will break up our organization.’ Spies said: ‘I will print hand-bills
to stop the meeting at the Haymarket May 4.’ He said he would attend
to that himself. I said that we had better put up signs on the corners
to notify the people that there would be no meeting at the Haymarket
that night. Spies said that if there was a meeting, then there would
be trouble. Schnaubelt was to go to the North Side that afternoon, May
4, and tell the people that there would be no meeting at the Haymarket
that night. On May 4, in the evening, some one called at the office
and wanted Spies to speak at the meeting at Deering Station; but he
could not be found, and consequently we sent Schwab. Afterwards I went
over to the West Side meeting at the Haymarket. I saw Spies standing
on a wagon, making a speech to the people present. When he saw me he
called me and asked me to go and find Parsons. Spies said, ‘I want help
here, and he must help me out.’ I went to look for Parsons, and I found
him. Parsons and Fielden were together. I told them what Spies had
said and I asked them to go and help him. They did go—I went along.
We got there speedily. I asked Fischer for an explanation as to the
publication in our paper of the notice calling the people to arms, but
he would give me no satisfaction.”

“Why did you not give me this statement first when I asked you for this
information?” asked Mr. Grinnell.

“Because I was afraid it would hurt myself, or it might convict me.
That is the reason why I did not tell you at first. I saw dynamite in
the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ building. I saw dynamite lying on a shelf in
the back room from the office. I know George Engel and Fehling. They
printed the _Anarchist_. It was a small paper. They only published six
numbers.”

EDMUND DEUSS was also sought for with some interest. He had been
city editor of the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ under Spies. The first week
after the bomb had been thrown the authorities at police headquarters
were informed that Paul Grottkau and Deuss, both ex-employés of the
_Arbeiter-Zeitung_, were then living in Milwaukee. Mr. Furthmann
thought some points might be gathered from them, and accordingly went
to that city. He found them both. Grottkau, who has since tasted the
bitterness of prison life for his preachments of violence in the “Cream
City,” expressed himself as pleased that Spies had been placed under
arrest and charged with responsibility for the murder at the Haymarket.

“I knew long ago,” said Grottkau, “that August Spies would thus end his
crazy and ambitious career.”

Grottkau and Spies had not been on very friendly terms since the
latter had succeeded in displacing the former from the editorship of
the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_. But, however strong his enmity, Grottkau would
not give us any information regarding Spies, or dynamite practices,
or anything else that would tend to put a rope around Spies’ neck or
hurt any of his companions. He referred Mr. Furthmann to Deuss, who was
then depending upon Grottkau for a livelihood and who received a dollar
now and then for writing a firebrand article for a paper Grottkau was
editing in Milwaukee.

Deuss was found in a neighboring saloon without a cent in his
pocket. He stood wistfully eyeing the saloon patrons, hoping to fall
in with some one willing to buy him a glass of beer or a cigar.
Mr. Furthmann at once opened a conversation about the Chicago
Anarchists. Deuss promised to tell everything he knew in regard to
the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_, the dynamite brought there, the men in the
building of that paper and the nefarious things practiced by them, on
condition that Mr. Furthmann would first buy him a good cigar, several
sandwiches and the necessary beer. The conditions were complied with,
and Deuss rattled away a long story. He proved to be the first man
to inform Mr. Furthmann as to when the dynamite that was afterwards
found in the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ had been brought there, and where
it had been placed. A grease-spot caused by dynamite was afterwards
found exactly where Deuss said the explosive material had been placed,
which was right next to the desk used by Malkoff, a reporter for the
paper and an exiled Russian Anarchist. Rau at that time, it appears,
did not know the properties of dynamite, for on one occasion a stray
match was thrown upon the dynamite sack in the office and he was nearly
frightened out of his wits.

“Don’t you know what you are doing?” he exclaimed.

“You greenhorn,” was the answer, “Malkoff has handled this stuff for
years and knows by this time, as you ought to know, that dynamite
cannot be exploded by contact with fire in such a form.”

This information, though unimportant on its face, assisted Mr.
Furthmann greatly in making Deuss talk, and served also as a straw
showing that the man had given up all the information he possessed.

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: LINGG’S CANDLESTICK.

From a Photograph.]

SO FAR Mr. Furthmann had managed to secure many valuable clues, and
we studied at once the best method of following them up. In running
down the pointers, one day Mr. Furthmann sought Dr. Newman, one of
the surgeons who had rendered heroic service in attending the wounded
on the night after the explosion. The doctor was asked with reference
to the metal and pieces of lead which he had taken from the bodies of
some of the men wounded at the Haymarket. He informed Mr. Furthmann
that a young man named Hahn, a shoemaker on the West Side, had come
to the hospital wounded by the explosion, and that upon examination
a wound had been found in the fleshy part of his thigh, from which a
piece of iron had been removed. This piece was nothing less than the
nut which had been used to assist in holding together the two halves
of the composition bomb which had been exploded at the Haymarket. This
discovery was a most important one. It proved at the trial the best
piece of evidence used, by the prosecution, as it demonstrated that
the bomb exploded at the Haymarket was one of the bombs manufactured
by Louis Lingg, since fifty bolts and nuts of the same size and
description were subsequently found in Lingg’s possession.

The metal removed from the person of the wounded officers was placed in
the hands of Professors Haines and Delafontaine, expert chemists, for
analysis, and they found that it contained the same quantity of lead,
zinc, tin and other ingredients, and the same proportion of impurities
as the bombs found in Lingg’s possession. Even a trace of the copper
discovered in the bomb exploded at the Haymarket was shown to have come
from the candlestick used by Lingg. A small fragment was missing from
the candlestick, and it was clearly shown that it had found its way
into that deadly bomb.

During this period I also learned that Lingg had not been the first and
only one to experiment with dynamite in Chicago. I learned that as far
back as 1881 there had been some desperate men among the Socialists,
but by keeping their secrets to themselves they had managed to keep
the general body of the party and the public at large in ignorance
of their clandestine operations. They had even experimented with
dynamite, hoping to perfect it so that it could be handled with safety;
but somehow they had failed to discover means for making its use
practicable. They had adopted various expedients to test its strength
when confined in a small implement, and in their labors several had
received serious injuries. Four or five men are living to-day who were
crippled by the rash and ineffectual experiments. One Communist was
particularly active in studying the properties of the explosive and
devising a plan to make it serviceable in a combat with the police.
This man had fled from France after the downfall of the Paris Commune,
and thought himself quite capable of getting dynamite down to such a
fine point that when his new-found brethren in Anarchy started their
revolution they would be more successful than his French associates had
been. He finally succeeded in making an explosive similar to dynamite,
but which was found very unsafe to handle. After some of the Anarchists
had tried it and got hurt, they refrained from further meddling, and
dropped both the Frenchman and his explosive. For along time thereafter
dynamite was not heard of.

A man living on West Lake Street, however, still entertained hopes, and
finally supplied some of the Anarchists with a dynamite prescription by
which they could use it with great effect. In imparting his knowledge
he told them to keep the “stuff” hermetically sealed, for if the air
reached it an explosion would surely follow. Some found this true, to
their sorrow.

Then a man residing on West Twelfth Street stepped to the front and
supplied what he claimed could be successfully used. One Sunday some
half dozen Anarchists went out to Riverside to test the new compound by
putting some of it under a lot of stone near the Desplaines River, but,
to their surprise and mortification, they found that it was so weak
that it scarcely made a noise.

Subsequently the Southwest Side group took up the dynamite problem and
experimented with the “stuff.” The members of this group, known at
the time familiarly as “the Bridgeport group,” were the craziest lot
of Anarchists in the city, and, judging from their talk, were always
ready to participate in a riot or a revolution. They were great readers
of books on Socialism, Communism, Anarchy and Nihilism, and they had
drilled themselves thoroughly in arms for the coming uprising. But
they wanted something more potent and effective than simple guns and
revolvers, and, as they possessed a work on “The Wonders of Chemistry,”
they saw no reason why they could not carry out its instructions with
reference to dynamite and find some means for putting them to practical
use. They accordingly experimented. They had a friend in a drug-store
on State Street, near Van Buren, and from him they obtained their
supplies by paying a good round price. This store finally became known
to all the Socialists in the city, but, as the owner became frightened
at the publicity obtained, he declined to furnish any more material for
experiments. The Anarchists, however, had met with some small success,
and they were not discouraged. They found another friend on West
Twelfth Street, and this party sold them dynamite cartridges such as
are used by miners.

There were in the city at the time the Bridgeport group, the Town
of Lake group, the South Side group, the Southwest Side group, the
Freiheit group, the Northwest Side group, the North Side group,
the Karl Marx group, the English group, the Lake View group (near
Clybourn Avenue), and another group which existed only a short time,
all together having a membership list of about 1,500 men, who hailed
with great delight the report that with some further experiments the
dynamite cartridges could be made serviceable not only for blowing up
buildings, but also for use in a hand-to-hand conflict in a crowd.

The members of the Lehr und Wehr Verein were not then interested
in this branch of Socialism. They drilled with arms and believed
in meeting the enemy with guns. It was about this time—October,
1883—that the national convention of Socialists was held at Pittsburg
to formulate plans and principles, and there was a division of
sentiment on the use of dynamite. The radical delegates from Chicago,
as stated in a preceding chapter, were numerous, and insisted on
employing the most effective weapon they could find to exterminate
capitalists. The result of the conflict was that on their return home
they made it a point to bring over the members of the Lehr und Wehr
Verein, some of whom had opposed them at Pittsburg, to their ideas,
and some time thereafter they succeeded in having the superiority of
dynamite over guns almost generally conceded. Not only that, but some
of the members became enthusiastic in the experiments being made. One
member had even reached a point beyond his competitors in making round
cast-iron bombs, and succeeded in turning out fifty pieces. A few were
tried, with what success is not known, but one night two friends of the
man went to him, told him that they had heard of his having bombs and
that his arrest would be made the next day. In fact, they assured him
that he had been spotted for some time by detectives. This frightened
the man, and he begged his friends to assist him in carrying the bombs
away and thus help him out of his troubles. The three then went to
work, removed the bombs, and, to effectually destroy all evidence,
threw them into the lake.

This procedure gave the great man of the Lehr und Wehr Verein a chance
to breathe a little easier, the air seemed to be more bracing, and he
could look into the eye of a policeman, when he passed one, with more
assurance and confidence. But one of those bombs got astray while being
removed, just before the others were submerged, and it afterwards came
into the possession of the police. It has had its picture taken and
looks quite innocent on paper.

An engraving of it is herewith presented. This sort of iron bomb was
afterwards adopted as a model, and became quite popular with the brave
dynamite experimenters until some one manufactured a smaller one that
could be carried handily in a coat pocket.

[Illustration]

They next adopted the long iron gas-pipe bomb, six inches in length,
which could be carried in the inside vest pocket. Every one fell in
love with the new invention, especially Fischer, and he kept a large
soap-box full of the bombs at his home, carefully concealed under his
bed.

But the Anarchists were bent on still greater improvements. They
continued their experiments, and the next new invention was the round
lead bomb, called by them the “Czar bomb.” This was the kind brought to
August Spies’ office by “the man from Cleveland,” or rather by Louis
Lingg. One of these bombs is shown in a full-page engraving presented
elsewhere. They had been designated as the “Czar bomb” until bombs
began to fill my office, and then they were referred to as “the round
lead bombs.” The police knew them as Lingg’s bombs.

Some of Fischer’s bombs were scattered among trusted Anarchists in the
Board of Trade procession, and their effectiveness would have been
tried on that occasion had it not been for police interference. The
character and explosiveness of the “Lingg bomb” are described in the
testimony of the officers and expert chemists during the trial.

SAMUEL FIELDEN was found at his home during the day of May 5th, and
placed under arrest. He accepted the situation calmly, and, without a
remonstrance, accompanied the officers to the Central Station. Officer
Slayton, who had him in care, introduced him to the Lieutenant in
charge of the detective department, and, in view of the conspicuous
part the prisoner had played at the Haymarket, one would suppose that
he would have been subjected to a very rigorous examination as to his
movements for several days preceding the evening of May 4. But nothing
of the kind occurred. The Lieutenant proceeded to denounce him in
English more vigorous than elegant, and delivered himself of an opinion
about the man and the work of the Anarchists at the Haymarket. Fielden
stood it all without a murmur, and probably would have said nothing
had not the Lieutenant called him a Dutchman. That allusion was the
“last straw.” Fielden remonstrated and emphatically declared that he
was an Englishman. He was subsequently turned over to Superintendent
Ebersold, and, while exhibiting his wound, caused by a shot during
the Haymarket riot, he was informed by that officer that it ought to
have gone through his head. The observation was a pertinent one at the
moment, and possibly the felicity of its expression may have satisfied
the official that with it his duty had ended in the case. At any rate,
Fielden was not catechized to any material extent by the Chief, and
that official, as well as the head of the detective department, was no
wiser than before the man’s arrest.

[Illustration: SAMUEL FIELDEN.

From a Photograph taken by the Police.]

The prisoner, who had been shown to have declared at the Haymarket,
“Here come the bloodhounds, the police; you do your duty and I’ll
do mine,” and to have fired a shot in the direction of the police
after dismounting from the speakers’ wagon, was then passed into a
cell. His house was searched, but nothing of a criminating character
was discovered. He undoubtedly possessed a great deal of information
respecting the revolutionary plot. Had it not been for work done
outside of the Central Station, Fielden would have been speedily
released, and possibly some apology might have been offered him for the
inconvenience occasioned by his arrest and the unintentional reflection
cast upon the English and German nationalities.

Fielden was kept locked up, indicted, and finally convicted on
discoveries made independently of the Chief’s office or the detective
department. The education, demeanor and independence of the man were
well calculated to deceive the most expert readers of human nature,
and his emphatic assertions regarding the want of any knowledge of a
conspiracy would have made him a free man to-day had his case rested
on the efforts of the Central Station. Fielden was a sort of diamond in
the rough. He possessed much native ability, a ruggedness of character
which commanded admiration, and a force and volubility of speech which
swayed the unlettered masses. Had he passed through either an academic
or collegiate training, there is no telling what eminence he might have
achieved in the higher walks of life. His rough, uncouth appearance
greatly heightened the effect of his utterances, as few looked for
eloquence from such a man. He was born in Dodmorden, Lancashire,
England, in 1847, and spent a number of his earlier years in a cotton
mill. While thus engaged he became a Sunday-school teacher at the age
of eighteen, and some time later branched out as an itinerant Methodist
exhorter. Some time after (1868) he came to America, settling in New
York, and the next year he found his way to Chicago. He went to work
at Summit, a hamlet a few miles southwest of town, on the farm of
ex-Mayor John Wentworth, but he did not remain there long before he
migrated to Arkansas and Louisiana to engage in railroad construction
work. In 1871 he returned to Chicago and engaged in manual labor,
principally as teamster in handling stone. In 1880 he became a member
of the Liberal League, and under the training and guidance of George
Schilling he soon became a rabid Socialist. From that the step was
only a short one to unbridled Anarchy, and the pupil finally became a
teacher to Schilling in advanced theories on the state of society they
all sought to inaugurate. Fielden finally became a boon companion of
Spies and Parsons, and all the rugged eloquence he could command was
given to the cause. He was a more forcible speaker than either of the
two just named, and whenever he preached force, as he always did after
becoming an Anarchist, his language commanded wider attention and made
a deeper impression. Had it not been for his own sincere penitence for
his past misdeeds and the intervention of influential friends because
of that penitence, he would have died on the gallows. But he recanted
at the last moment of hope for clemency, and the Governor commuted
his sentence to imprisonment for life. He is a married man with two
small children, and the misery he wrought upon them has been beyond
expression. Such is the fruit of Anarchy.



CHAPTER XI.

 My Connection with the Anarchist Cases—A Scene at the Central
 Office—Mr. Hanssen’s Discovery—Politics and Detective Work—Jealousy
 against Inspector Bonfield—Dynamiters on Exhibition—Courtesies
 to the Prize-fighters—A Friendly Tip—My First Light on the
 Case—A Promise of Confidence—One Night’s Work—The Chief Agrees
 to my Taking up the Case—Laying Our Plans—“We Have Found the
 Bomb Factory!”—Is it a Trap?—A Patrol-wagon Full of Dynamite—No
 Help Hoped for from Headquarters—Conference with State’s Attorney
 Grinnell—Furthmann’s Work—Opening up the Plot—Trouble with the
 Newspaper Men—Unexpected Advantage of Hostile Criticism—Information
 from Unexpected Quarters—Queer Episodes of the Hunt—Clues Good,
 Bad and Indifferent—A Mysterious Lady with a Veil—A Conference
 in my Back Yard—The Anarchists Alarmed—A Breezy Conference with
 Ebersold—Threatening Letters—Menaces Sent to the Wives of the
 Men Working on the Case—How the Ladies Behaved—The Judge and
 Mrs. Gary—Detectives on Each Other’s Trail—The Humors of the
 Case—Amusing Incidents.


I HAVE often been asked how it was that I came to have charge of the
detective work which was done in bringing the Anarchists to justice,
and I think that the time has now come for the whole story to be told.
I think it would be a false delicacy for me, in this book, which I
mean to make, as nearly as I can, a fair and truthful record of the
Anarchist case, to pass over the notorious incompetency which prevailed
at Police Headquarters at that time. It cannot be denied that, had
the case been left in the hands of the men of the Central Office, the
prosecution would have come to naught, and these red-handed murderers
would have gone unwhipped of justice. This was something which every
good citizen would have been bound to prevent, and more than others a
police officer, for into our hands is intrusted the care of the lives
and property of the community and the preservation of law and order. I
knew as well as my questioners that the case belonged to the Central
Office. There was the Chief; there were the two heads of the detective
department; there was the detective corps, supposed to contain the
keenest and the best officers on the force.

From the first I was satisfied that the men at headquarters neither
appreciated the gravity of the occasion, nor were they able to cope
with the conspirators—a set of wily, secret and able men, who had
made a special study of the art and mystery of baffling the law and
avoiding the police. There was neither order, discipline nor brains at
headquarters. Every officer did as he liked, and the department was
rent and paralyzed with the feuds and jealousies between the chiefs
and the subordinates. This, too, was at a time when the people of
Chicago were in a condition of mind almost bordering upon panic. They
were looking to us for protection. The red flag was flaunted in the
streets, demagogues were shouting dynamite in a dozen parts of the
city, riotous mobs had already met the police—and the police were
in charge of a man who—it is a charity to say no more—had neither a
proper conception of his duties nor the ability to perform them.

For instance, on the evening of May 3 all the captains of the city were
ordered to meet at the Chief’s office, and, together with Inspector
Bonfield, they responded promptly. While the situation was being
discussed, there was a rap at the door. I was nearest the entrance, and
I opened it. Mr. Hanssen, one of the editors of the _Freie Presse_,
was there. He handed in a paper, saying that it was of most serious
import—so serious that, as soon as he had seen it, he had felt it his
duty to bring it to police headquarters. It was the “Revenge” circular,
of which so much is said elsewhere in this book, and which afterwards
became so notorious. I handed it to Chief Ebersold, who glanced at it
and said it was all nonsense. “Why,” said he, “we are prepared for
them.” Bonfield looked it over, and thought it serious. I was sure that
it meant mischief and murder, but the rest treated it as a farce. Now,
what was to be expected from men who had no clearer idea of the gravity
of the crisis that was upon us than the story of this incident conveys.

[Illustration: DETECTIVE JAMES BONFIELD.

From a Photograph.]

On the next evening the crash of dynamite was for the first time heard
on the streets of an American city. The Red Terror was upon us.

What was done?

Every citizen of Chicago demanded justice for the brave men who had
fallen—justice on the miscreants who had done them to death. Knowing
what I did of the manner in which the detective work was apt to be
done, it will not be wondered that I at once made up my mind to do
what lay in my power to hunt these murderers down. Even had I not so
concluded, the events of that day, the 5th of May, would have fastened
the determination in my mind. At ten o’clock in the morning I was
ordered by telephone to report at the Central Station at once with two
companies—trouble was momentarily expected on the Black Road. When
I had disposed my men at the City Hall, and arranged for the patrol
wagons we were to occupy if a call should come, there was nothing to do
but wait in the Chief’s office till we were summoned. No one ever had
a better opportunity of seeing how the police business of the city was
transacted.

It was a time of acute excitement, the day after the Haymarket. The
Chief was in a state of alarm that would have been ridiculous if it
had not been pitiable. Whenever the telephone rang, he would start
nervously and demand, “Is that on the prairie, or the Black Road?”
and when assured that there was no trouble, his relief was absurdly
manifest. Among the detectives the topic was whether they would be
called on to work in the Anarchist case and how many they would be
expected to arrest.

Another question that bothered them was: What would the old man (Mayor
Harrison) say if they went to work arresting Anarchists, and how would
he like it?

The officers who did their duty after such a stupendous crime as the
slaughter of the police officers would never have lost anything in the
end, even if they should have lost their positions. The question, “How
would Harrison like it?” as asked by one of the detectives, should,
therefore, have cut no figure, and possibly it did not. Probably
the officer fell back upon it as an excuse for his own laziness and
incompetence. But one thing is certain, and that is that the department
did nothing to speak of in the case.

[Illustration: OFFICER HENRY PALMER.

From a Photograph.]

I saw some of those red-handed murderers come out of that office
smiling and laughing instead of being made to feel that they were about
to have a rope around their necks.

In fact, the Central Office was run so that no one could tell who was
officer, waiter or janitor. Everybody had a full sweep in and out
of the office, and if a prisoner happened to be brought in by some
well-meaning officer, everybody was allowed to hear the investigation.
It was a sort of town meeting, and it was free to all.

At that time Inspector Bonfield had been receiving a great deal of
favorable mention in the newspapers, in connection with the labor
troubles, and this aroused the jealousy of Chief Ebersold. The Chief
accordingly concluded to attend to all the business himself, assisted
by his pet gang of ignorant detectives, and they made a fine mess of
it. But forces were at work, in spite of the internal difficulties,
which rescued the case from utter failure.

On the morning of May 5, at an early hour, Inspector Bonfield had
a short interview with State’s Attorney Grinnell; but exactly what
transpired no one but themselves knew. Before noon of that day,
however, the result could be plainly seen. Officers James Bonfield,
Palmer, Slayton and a few others had by that time succeeded in
arresting August Spies, Chris Spies, Schwab, Fischer and Fielden. Of
course, this step only served to create more jealousy in the Central
Station.

After the prisoners had been brought in, some of the newspaper
reporters endeavored to obtain interviews with them, but they were not
permitted to get anywhere near the Anarchists.

In the meantime, and while the working officers were out hunting
for more of the chief conspirators, the lieutenants in command of
the detective department concluded that they would enjoy a little
breathing-spell. Accordingly they took a stroll among the fashionable
saloons on Clark Street. There they met their friends, and while
sampling the various decoctions compounded by the cocktail dispensers,
they fell in with a party of professional prize-fighters, heavy-weight
and light-weight, and match-makers for man and beast. They found there
was more sport in that party than in taking risks by going out into
the suburbs through tough streets and dirty alleyways looking for
Anarchists.

[Illustration: OFFICER (NOW LIEUT.) BAER.]

At any rate, after a lot of wine had been consumed and good cigars
tested, round after round, one of the pug-faced sluggers made the
remark to one of the lieutenants that he would like to see the
Anarchists who had been arrested, and the officer addressed responded:
“Of course you can see them—all you gentlemen can see them. Come right
along with us.”

They all fell into line, went over to the Central Station, were taken
down stairs to the lock-up, and there told to go around and look for
themselves. This was some time after nine o’clock in the evening, and
after the party had satisfied their curiosity, they returned to the
saloon which they had left. The vigilant reporters had noticed this
proceeding, and, holding a short conference, they resolved to insist
on seeing the prisoners also. They told the officials that the public
had as much right to know about the parties arrested as a gang of
prize-fighters, whether Sullivans or lesser lights in the prize-ring
firmament, and the lieutenants at once recognized the force of the
argument. Between eleven and twelve that night one reporter from each
paper in the city was allowed to see the Anarchists, and interviews
were secured for publication the next morning.

When I understood how the whole affair was being managed during that
day, I came to the conclusion that the case would never be worked up
by that department, and I was more resolved than ever that if the
opportunity came I would not rest until the criminals were brought to
justice.

Inspector Bonfield had likewise become disgusted with the nervous
actions of the Chief and the heads of the detective department, and
he decided to confine his operations to the West Side. He went over
there that day,—May 5,—and as a result he cleaned out all Lake Street
from the river to Halsted Street. He broke up all the Anarchist
_rendezvous_, captured their guns, confiscated their flags, and
created general dismay among the reds. Some sought safety by fleeing
to the roofs, others escaped through back alleys, and still others got
into the dark recesses of basements. When they learned that “Black”
Bonfield, as they called him, was on their track, consternation took
possession of them all. The Inspector had no easy task. He looked up
all their halls and meeting-places, hunted for “Revenge” circulars at
every place he visited, and in every instance he found plenty of them
as evidence of the extensive circulation given that document among
Anarchists. He gathered them all together, and in the trial they proved
of great service to the State as showing that all had notice to come to
the Haymarket meeting with arms and be prepared for a deadly conflict.
After that day Inspector Bonfield turned all his attention to the sick
and wounded officers and their families, and, as a consequence, the
Central Station was left without a competent head. But the Central
considered itself capable of handling the case, and Bonfield never
asked any questions. Ebersold and the dual-headed monstrosities in
charge of the detective department struggled along, and, with a great
deal of bluster, endeavored to show to the outside world that they
were moving along finely. But they accomplished absolutely nothing.
Insults in various ways were heaped upon Bonfield, so that every one
about the City Hall noticed them. Even on the 5th of May, the slights
cast upon the Inspector were commented upon by some of the officers in
the Central. Some of the officers friendly to the incompetents would
declare that Bonfield did not know his business and that he was to
blame for the killing of the officers, but there were others who took
a different view and regretted that he was not kept continually at
work on the case. In fact, the only ones about the building, after the
incompetent heads took charge, who showed a willingness to work and
who tried to do their duty, were Officers James Bonfield, Palmer and
Slayton. All the rest looked scared, absent-minded and indifferent.

On the next morning—May 6—I was again at the Central Headquarters.
I learned then how deep and wide-spread was the spirit that pervaded
the department. Nothing was done, and nothing was proposed to be
done. I also learned of the treatment accorded Officer Palmer by the
lieutenants in charge of the department.

The whole trouble appeared to be that no one cared about doing
anything, and that if any one had the temerity to bring information in,
he would be kicked out. While such was the stupidity or the lethargy of
the head officials, I was powerless to act. I could not take the case
away from my superior officer on information rejected and spurned by
those in authority about police headquarters, and I almost despaired of
ever seeing the culprits brought to punishment.

An incident occurred, however, which changed the whole course of
events. On my way home to supper that evening, about six o’clock—May
6—I met a man near my house. He acted as though greatly frightened,
but he had some information he wished to impart to me. He was afraid to
speak, as he said it was life or death to him.

“If I speak,” he said, “and these people [the Anarchists] find it out,
they will kill me sure. On the other hand, when I think of how many
were killed, it drives me nearly crazy. I can probably help to bring
the murderers to justice, and I cannot forgive myself unless I try to
assist.”

I told the man that as a good citizen it was his duty to tell
everything he knew about the affair, and that I should consider
everything he said strictly confidential. My personal pledge being
given to him that I would not get him into trouble by exposing him to
the reds, he began his statement. The man did not tell very much, but
after I had gathered together all the little threads carefully, the
whole proved of considerable service. After supper I went to a great
many places and remained out till four o’clock the next morning. The
following day I instructed some of my people how to get information
respecting the throwing of the Haymarket bomb, and I told them where
they might leave their information if they obtained any. I got back
to the station at 9 A.M., and found in my closed letter-box a slip of
paper containing about five lines of important news. I scanned the
paper closely, and those who stood around told me afterwards that they
noticed that my face brightened up considerably.

I knew then that I had a very light starter in the case, but a good
one. I could readily see also that everything had to be handled with
the greatest care, and by preserving the utmost confidence with the
informers. I knew, too, that nothing must be told even in the Chief’s
office or in the detective department.

I had previously discovered that there was not a man among the three
heads of the Central that knew how to listen to information, how to
put questions or remember conversation, or, in fact, to have anything
in shape, or to keep secrets, and I therefore decided to keep my own
counsel.

On the morning of the 7th of May, at nine o’clock, I arrived at the
Chief’s office and asked him if he had any good news. He replied that
it was hard to get at the bottom of the affair. I then asked him if he
would give me the privilege of working up the case. He looked at me a
moment and then said, “Yes.”

“Yes, Captain,” he added, after a brief pause, “I will—sure. If you
can do anything, do it. I hope you will do it. I shall be pleased if
you can only do it.”

I then said: “With your permission I will work this case and all there
is in the case. You will hear from me soon, but if you should not hear
from me in three months, do not ask for me. I am going to work night
and day until this case is cleared up. Good day.”

[Illustration: HERMANN SCHUETTLER.

MICHAEL HOFFMAN.

MICHAEL WHALEN.

CHAS. REHM.

JOHN STIFT.

JACOB LOEWENSTEIN.]

Then I started for the North Side. Arriving at the station, Lieut.
Larsen handed me a little note which had been left for me. It was
small, but full of information, and was the first fruit of one night’s
work. I immediately turned over the command of the station and all
the details to Lieut. Larsen, and at once called in my old reliable
officers, those whom I knew to be honest and true, strong and vigilant,
intelligent and brave. They began earnestly and were with me through
all the investigations up to November 11, 1887. They were Michael
Whalen, John Stift, Michael Hoffman, Hermann Schuettler, Jacob
Loewenstein and Charles Rehm, and they reported to me promptly at the
office, where they received their first instructions. I told them that
this must be like all the other cases we had worked, secret and only
known among ourselves. All information and reports must come to me
as soon as possible, and all details must be attended to strictly. I
further told them that they must expect a forty-eight hours’ stretch
of work frequently before we got to the end; that they must keep in
mind that their lives would often be in danger, but they should only
kill in dire necessity. Insults or abuses they must not take from any
one. I knew that they would get into many of those h—l-holes, where
the women were a great deal worse than the men, and I proposed that
the officers should show that they were not to be trifled with in the
discharge of their duties.

The field chosen for work was the vicinity of Clybourn Avenue, Sedgwick
Street and North Avenue. The officers were provided with chisels,
jimmies and keys and one or two dark lanterns, and after these
preliminary arrangements they mounted a patrol wagon and started for
the scene of their operations. This detail was in charge of Officer
Whalen, and the first objective point was Sedgwick Street, near the
residence of Seliger. They began searching all the houses, barns and
wood-sheds belonging to Anarchists, and created quite a consternation
in the locality.

While they were thus engaged, I was temporarily called away from my
office, and on my return I was soon called up by a telephone message
from the Larrabee Street Station. Answering the call, I recognized
the voice of Officer Whalen, and some important news was at once
communicated.

“We have found the bomb factory,” said Officer Whalen. “It is in the
rear of No. 442 Sedgwick Street. The house is full of bombs and all
kinds of material. My men are all there, and I am almost afraid to
touch any of the stuff. There are some very queer-looking things,
besides round lead bombs and very long iron bombs, about the house, and
probably some trap may have been set to blow us all up the moment the
articles are disturbed.”

I questioned him as to whether there was any one about the house, and,
being answered in the negative, I instructed the officer to handle
everything himself and exercise great caution. Everything that looked
suspicious was to be packed in a box and sent to the Chicago Avenue
Station. I further instructed the officer to hunt up the parties who
lived there, place them under arrest and send them also to the same
station.

Whalen then returned to the house, packed up all the “stuff” and hunted
for the occupants, who were nowhere to be found. He ascertained their
names, however, and learned from the neighbors that the head of the
house worked in Meyer’s Mill, a sash and door factory on the North
Pier. This information was telephoned to me, and I instructed Lieut.
Larsen just what I desired in the way of securing the man’s arrest. The
Lieutenant called up the Larrabee Street Station patrol wagon, and,
with a number of officers, he repaired to the mill. He there found his
man, William Seliger, and brought him to the Chicago Avenue Station.

Meanwhile Officer Whalen and his men were busy getting their load of
deadly missiles, and, still unsatisfied, they got some shovels and
picks and went to mining in the back yard of the bomb factory. They
found a lot of lead and gas pipes buried in the ground, and after
they had collected about all the suspicious-looking articles they
could find, they brought it all to the station. This was the first
of a series of searches kept up night and day for two weeks, and no
house or place where an Anarchist or Socialist resided escaped police
attention. The houses were examined from top to bottom, and when the
officers had finished their labors in this direction the Chicago Avenue
Station was filled with all kinds of arms, some old and some new,
nearly every nation on the globe being represented in the collection.

On the evening of May 7, about eight o’clock, a gentleman called at my
house, and in a most confidential manner desired to post me about an
arrest that ought to be made.

“You had a fellow taken from Meyer’s Mill,” said he, “but you left a
man worse than the one you arrested.” He gave the name of the party and
then silently took his departure.

[Illustration: EDMUND FURTHMANN.]

On the next day Officer Whalen was detailed to bring the man to the
station, but when the officers arrived at the mill the bird had flown.
This man’s name was Mueller, No. 2. He has never returned to the
factory, although his tool chest is still there, and $27 still stands
due to him on the books of the concern to this date.

With the information so far secured I became confident that I had
an opening to the case, but, knowing that no aid could be had from
the Central Headquarters, I refrained, I think wisely, from asking
for assistance. In Mr. Grinnell and his staff, however, I had every
confidence, and I went to his office. I told him what discoveries had
been made, giving him all the details, and said to him that in working
up the case I should frequently need his advice. He promptly said:
“Schaack, you can command my services and those of every man in my
office at any time.” I thanked him, and felt greatly strengthened in
the task I had before me.

Mr. Furthmann was directed to go with me and assist in the same way
that he had assisted in working up the evidence in the Mulkowsky murder
case.

I then felt highly gratified, and stronger and more resolute than
ever, because of my new partner in the case. When we were about to go,
Mr. Grinnell said, “I will be up to-night and see you.” He called,
as promised. We then told him what progress we had made during the
day, and he expressed himself as greatly pleased. He urged us to keep
everything as secret as possible and not to take any more people into
our confidence than was absolutely necessary. Having given us this
advice, he left us, but we continued our work until three o’clock the
next morning. We met again—Furthmann and myself—the next day at nine
o’clock, and that day we worked with great success. The boys brought us
in good news every hour. Good citizens would leave letters at my house,
and these would be immediately sent to me by my wife. Before eight
o’clock that night we had gained an entrance to the conspiracy plot.
Mr. Grinnell was sent for, and he called on us at once. He was informed
of all the facts and said:

“You boys have done well. You have found the missing link, and you have
it right.”

Mr. Grinnell became enthusiastic over the work accomplished and
recognized the fact that the right parties were under arrest, and that
what had been morally certain before as to a conspiracy had now been
made a legal certainty susceptible of the strongest proof. In reaching
this point, a great deal of work had been done, and in its performance
talent, tact and ingenuity of a very high order seemed essential. Mr.
Grinnell inspired us with confidence, however, and was kind enough to
say, just before going home that night:

“Schaack, I want to say that you are one of the greatest detectives in
America.”

When the case had been worked up to the discovery of the leading facts
at this time, the reporters for the various papers in Chicago began to
gather at the Chicago Avenue Station, and they plied me with all sorts
of questions. They desired all the information I possessed, but their
laudable ambition was not gratified. Nothing respecting the merits
of the case was furnished them. This provoked quite a number of the
newspaper craft, and they sought to even up things by scoring me and
my assistants in the columns of their papers. They continued their
attacks, evidently expecting that I would weaken and tell all I knew,
but in this they were mistaken, as their shafts fell harmless at my
feet.

The more the papers blamed us, the better we liked it. It made our work
much easier, because we received a great deal of good information from
persons who would not have told us anything without positive assurance
of secrecy.

This was in fact a potent factor in our success, and the
newspaper-reading public really lost nothing by it. The latest news
respecting the Anarchist conspiracy was always presented by the
dailies, and, while there may have been wanting many of the essential
and interesting facts, the public demand was measurably satisfied.
At any rate, the interests of justice could not be permitted to be
overshadowed by those of the newspapers, and I held unflinchingly to
the course mapped out until the day of the trial. The result proved the
wisdom of the plan, and the encomiums bestowed on me by the press on
the evidence I finally accumulated more than offset the former bitter
attacks.

[Illustration: THE EAST CHICAGO AVENUE STATION.

From a Photograph.]

Had it not been for the caution and secrecy which we made our rule all
through the investigation, the plot would not have been successfully
unraveled. Recognizing this trait in my management of the case, men
close to the Anarchists gave points they otherwise would not have dared
to give, and there was scarcely an hour during the investigation that
I did not find some trails leading up to the arch-conspirators. I even
received private letters on my way home to meals. Persons would meet me
on the street, hand me letters and pass right on. Some of these letters
were purposely misleading, while others contained good points; but by
putting one thing with another, and working up everything, something
tangible was generally produced. In many of the notes a few words would
signify a great deal, and the clues would be run down to the last
point. Of course, sometimes the detectives made long and weary walks
with no results. But whenever the boys met with disappointments in not
getting just what they expected, and even when they were kept up all
night, they never grumbled or expressed dissatisfaction.

On the morning of May 8, at eight o’clock, we all met for general
consultation behind locked doors in an inner room, and, while thus
occupied with the case, I was notified that a lady desired to see me on
important business. I immediately responded, and as I entered the main
office I was confronted by a woman very heavily veiled. She briefly
stated her mission and said that she desired an interview in private. I
took her into another office, and, after the door had been locked, she
said:

“You must excuse me. I will not uncover my face. Don’t ask me anything
about myself, and I will tell you something.”

She was a German lady, well educated, and she spoke in an earnest,
truthful manner. Being assured that no questions would be asked to
establish her identity, she then told me where to send and what would
be found at the indicated place. Before making her exit she remarked:

“You will have to attend to this matter this very day and before four
o’clock.”

Her information proved highly interesting and valuable, and I thanked
her for it. In less than half an hour one of the detectives was set
to work on her “pointers,” and before two o’clock he returned to the
station with “a good fat bird” and a lot of new evidence. Who the lady
was is a mystery. She left the station as mysteriously as she had
entered.

In the evening of the same day we met again and put together the
results of each one’s investigations. The work accomplished was
surprising to all. Mr. Grinnell called, and, seeing what had been done,
was more than pleased. At this time we had some of the Anarchists
already behind the bars. That night we worked until two o’clock the
next morning, and it was half an hour later when I directed my steps
homeward. As I neared my house, I saw the indistinct outlines of a
man standing close to a large bill-board about ten feet north of my
residence. The figure proved to be a tall man, and, as I came to a
halt, the stranger spoke up in German:

“Is this Mr. Schaack?”

“I am,” I replied, “and what are you doing standing there?”

The stranger asked me to wait for a moment, and I complied, hardly
knowing what to make out of the man’s intentions toward me at such
an unseemly hour in the morning; but at the same time I kept my
eye steadily upon him for any hostile demonstrations. The strange
individual hurriedly placed a cloth of some sort over his face, and
I began to think some Anarchist had been commissioned to murder me.
Still, the coolness and self-possession of the man and the seeming
absence of the usual bluster incident to the commission of a foul crime
reassured me. Noticing all this, by way of making the man understand
that I was prepared for him if he had any murderous intentions, I said:
“If you make any attack upon me I will kill you dead!”

“_Mein Gott, nein._ I only want to tell you something,” was the reply.

I told him that that was all right and asked him into the back yard,
when he said he would talk to me. I made the stranger go ahead of me,
and when we reached the yard the man gave me a long story.

“I dare not,” said he, “write to you. I dare not come near you during
the daytime. I don’t want you to know me, but I think you are the right
man to talk to. I would not talk to anyone else.”

[Illustration: A BACK-YARD INTERVIEW.]

During the whole conversation the man kept his improvised mask on,
and made it clear that his motive in so doing was to prevent the
possibility of his being made to appear in court to verify the
statements he desired to communicate. He gave information mainly
bearing on the conspiracy meeting which had been held on the evening of
May 3, at No. 54 West Lake Street, and the interview lasted until about
three o’clock.

When we parted I was no wiser as to his identity than I had been
before, and to this day I don’t know with whom I talked there in my
back yard that early morning.

In the forenoon of the 9th of May my trusted assistants again met in
the office to compare notes. At this meeting I told Mr. Furthmann what
a ghost I had seen that night, and in our deliberations that ghost
aided us a great deal.

As a result the detectives started out with new instructions, and they
were ordered to be back at the office at one o’clock in the afternoon.
All reported promptly except a few who had struck a good trail and who
kept out until six o’clock. The reports of those present showed good
results. They started out again at two o’clock with new instructions
and were ordered to report as soon as they had completed their work.
Between three and five o’clock that afternoon things became exceedingly
lively. The Anarchists began to move about like hornets disturbed in
their nest, and some jumped around as if charged with electricity.
Towards six o’clock the detectives reported back to the office, and
an exchange of notes showed that it had been a day more fruitful of
results than the day preceding. I found that a strong chain had been
wrought connecting all the leading Anarchists in Chicago with the
Haymarket murder, and I knew that no mistakes had been made in the
arrest of those who had already been locked up.

During the same evening Mr. Grinnell and Mr. George Ingham gave me
a call, and anxiously inquired about the progress made in the case.
Mr. Grinnell assured Mr. Furthmann and myself that Mr. Ingham was all
right, being with them, and with this statement all the facts were laid
before them.

When the whole situation had been explained, Mr. Ingham said:

“Mr. Grinnell, now you have a case.”

“George,” replied Mr. Grinnell, “up to the time when Capt. Schaack
began his work I had no case whatsoever. I would have been laughed out
of court, but now I say we have a good, strong case, and it will be in
excellent shape. The boys are making it stronger every day. They have
got things down fine, and they are going to bring out everything there
is in it.”

We worked that night until one o’clock, and met again the next
morning at eight, vigorous and keen for further developments. At
this time we had our hands full, with an abundance of material on
which to work. During the night several letters were dropped in my
letter-box, and they all contained good news. Some of the letters were
somewhat obscure, their import having to be guessed at from suggestive
circumstances, but they nevertheless helped. With fresh instructions
the detectives started out for the day and reported back at one o’clock
as per orders. Everything was discovered to have worked well. About two
o’clock a man was noticed standing across the street from the station.
His actions were somewhat strange, and one of the officers remarked
that the fellow appeared to be watching the building very closely. I
told the officer to keep watch of him, and in the event of his walking
away to follow him. The man did not move, and as he remained there for
nearly half an hour I ordered the officer to go across the street and
ascertain what the stranger was watching. The man declined to speak at
first, but, after the officer had threatened to lock him up, he stated
that he desired to see me, but did not want to go into the building.
He then requested the officer to tell me that he would meet me at the
corner of La Salle and Chicago Avenues, and I was so notified.

I started at once to see the man, but as soon as he saw me he started
off. When he got to the corner he turned north on La Salle Avenue, and
I followed. When I got within twenty feet of him he looked around, and
then dropped a letter, pointing his fingers to it as he passed on,
without stopping. I picked up the letter and went back to the station.
This letter contained very important matter and kept us busy for two
days. This man was a stranger to me. I had never seen him before to my
knowledge, and I have never seen him since.

After this day the office had all it could do and all the information
it needed. After six days and nights of hard and exacting labor, the
real troubles of all engaged in the case began. The newspapers now
appreciated the work accomplished, and they were not slow to bestow
great praise upon all connected with the case. This did not please Mr.
Ebersold, the Chief, and on the 11th of May he sent for me to report at
once.

[Illustration: A FRIENDLY COMMUNICATION.]

The moment I entered the office at the Central Station I saw that there
was “fire in the eye” of the Superintendent, and the atmosphere was
somewhat above the boiling-point.

“Are you Chief of Police or am I?” broke in Mr. Ebersold, in a gruff,
blustering manner, the moment I had set my foot inside of the private
office.

“You are,” said I, “or at least you are supposed to be. I certainly
don’t desire to be.”

This shot did not contribute anything to the comfort of the Chief, and
he grew hotter than ever, and desired me to understand that he was
the Chief, and no one else. Mr. Ebersold then proceeded to unburden
his mind. He said that his friends had told him that they had thought
he was Chief, but since they had not seen his name published in
connection with the case, they had reached a different conclusion. He
further stated that ministers even, and professors, too, and other
people, had come to him and said that “Capt. Schaack was getting too
much notoriety.” He declared that he wanted me to stop the newspapers
writing anything more about me and to let the credit be given to the
head of the department.

“I want this thing stopped!” declared the Chief, as he struck the desk
vigorously with his fist and glowered savagely at me.

I told him that I had not asked any newspaper to write me up and I
would not tell any of them to stop, simply because it was not my
business.

I had progressed too far to think of allowing all the work already
done to be set at naught by the incompetents then at the head of
what was facetiously called the defective department. I therefore
took occasion to say, just before leaving the Chief’s presence, that,
now that I had opened up the case, I proposed to finish it, even if
I did not remain on the force one day after my work had been fully
accomplished. A day or two after this interview I met Mr. Grinnell and
related the circumstances. The State’s Attorney said:

“Captain, you are doing well; you keep on and work just as you have
been doing.”

During the afternoon of May 10, the detectives of the Chicago Avenue
Station discovered a lot of bombs, guns and revolvers, which they
brought to the station. They also arrested a few Anarchists, who
pretended to be as harmless and spotless as little lambs, but who,
before they went to sleep that night in our hotel, discovered that they
had a great many black spots on them. The force continued at work till
three o’clock the next morning. The following day they met again at
eight o’clock in the morning, and several arrests were made that day.

At about this time the mail was burdened with a great many letters,
some very encouraging in the cheering and complimentary sentiments they
conveyed, and others very threatening in their character. The latter
class were full of most dire menaces, suggesting all sorts of torture
in the event that I did not stop prosecuting the Anarchists, and the
whole formed a very interesting collection. It was evident that many
of them had been written by cranks, and that some bore marks of having
been inspired by religious enthusiasts. One wrote that enough men had
already been killed without hunting for innocent men as a sacrifice for
the Haymarket murder, and another wrote urging that the whole lot of
the Anarchist brood be hung as fast as they could be arrested. Several
drew on their imaginations and volunteered “pointers” which bore on
their face evidences of falsehood. Others would say that their prayers
were constantly with the police in their efforts, and expressed a hope
that out of it all might come the extirpation of Anarchy from American
soil. These communications poured in upon me in such numbers that I had
no time to read them through, and even the most savage and bloodthirsty
hardly gave me a moment’s thought. As a matter of fact I was never for
a moment alarmed about my own personal safety. All of the letters I
received I filed away, and some day, when I do not know what else to
do to amuse myself, I purpose to run them over again and enjoy another
hearty laugh. Meanwhile Anarchist after Anarchist was overhauled, and
after one clue had been worked out another was undertaken with the
utmost secrecy. The detectives continued persistently at work, and for
two months they carefully kept their own counsel, never permitting
themselves to be drawn into conversation by outsiders respecting the
case.

Their experience was highly exciting at all times, and the various
haunts of the Anarchists were kept in a lively commotion. The social
miscreants never knew when the investigations would end, and they were
in constant dread. Finding that threats upon the lives of State’s
Attorney Grinnell, Assistant State’s Attorney Furthmann, myself, and
the officers engaged in the case, had failed to have the desired
effect, they turned their attention to writing letters to our wives.
These letters were written in a most vindictive and fiendish spirit.
They threatened not only bodily harm to these ladies, but promised to
inflict death by horrible tortures upon their husbands and children,
if the prosecution was not dropped; and they vowed vengeance also upon
property by the use of explosives that would leave to each house only
a vestige of its former location. Some of these letters were general
in their character, and others particularized the kind of death in
store for all engaged in the case. One said that on some unexpected day
we would be blown to atoms by a bomb; another pictured how a husband
would be brought home in a mangled, unrecognizable mass. Still another
would suggest that, if a husband proved missing, his remains might
be looked for fifty feet under the water, firmly tied to a rock or a
piece of iron. Another, again, stated that on the first opportunity
the husband would be gagged, bound hand and foot, and placed across
some railroad track to horribly contemplate death under the wheels of
a fast approaching train. Still another would say: “When your husband
is brought home be sure and pull the poisoned dagger out of his body.”
One writer penned a tender epistle and closed by urging the mother
to be sure to “kiss your children good-by when you leave them out
on the street.” One letter was written with red ink and stated that
“this blood is out of the veins of a determined man that would die for
Anarchy.” One man expressed sorrow for the woman and then concluded:
“But we cannot help this. If you have any property you had better have
a will made by your liege lord to yourself, because he is going to die
so quick that he will not know that he ever was alive.” Another said:
“Take a good description of your husband’s clothes. He will be missing
before long, and probably after some years you will hear that in some
wild forest a lot of clothes have been found tied to some tree, and
these clothes will be stuffed with bones.”

Epistolary threats of this kind were sent almost daily to the wives
of the officers and officials, and, if published, the collection
would form a volume in itself. The threats I have given are only a
tithe of the whole, but I have given enough to illustrate the general
trend of the letters. We paid no attention to them, but the women,
of more delicate and sensitive disposition, took them more to heart.
The constant receipt of such letters naturally made a deep impression
on their minds, and some of the ladies had dark forebodings. But the
officers always took a cheerful view, and urged that it was only
cowards who resorted to threats. They still continued their work,
undaunted by these denunciations and menaces, and frequently remained
out all night in their work in some of the most desperate districts of
the city, sometimes keeping up forty-eight hours at a stretch.

Mrs. Schaack, a generally strong and courageous woman and deeply
interested in all my work, did not bear up as well as some of the
others under the pressure. She had been sick for over eight months,
and, when these letters began to reach her, she had just reached a
convalescent state. Having thus passed through a long siege of illness,
her system was in a highly nervous condition, and it was, therefore,
quite natural that sometimes she should become greatly solicitous for
my personal safety whenever a very savage and gory letter accidentally
reached her eye. When the trial finally began, I begged her to take the
three children and visit for two months a place six hundred miles away
from Chicago, where she could not only enjoy a comparative serenity of
mind, but build up her shattered constitution, under more favorable
circumstances and climatic conditions. She acted on my advice. While
away, she was in constant receipt of such letters as were calculated to
make her reassured as to my comfort, and she rapidly gained in health
and strength.

Mrs. Grinnell bore up remarkably well under the severe strain. She had
come in for a goodly share of these murder-threatening letters, but,
being blessed with good health and strong nerves, she never displayed
signs of weakness.

She was a brave lady. Whenever I saw her with Mr. Grinnell, she would
always say: “Captain, I want you and Mr. Grinnell and all the boys to
keep on with your noble work.” She at all times appeared very pleasant
and not the least disturbed.

Mrs. Furthmann was not overlooked by the letter-writers, but her
husband arranged matters so that their epistles did not fall into her
hands. He would gather them in, and, with what the mail brought him
every day for his own individual benefit, he had plenty of hair-raising
literature. But he paid no attention to the threats and never for a
moment relaxed his efforts on account of them. These letters became so
numerous and frequent that after a time the officers would jestingly
allude to them as their “love letters.”

But the Anarchists did not stop with writing letters. One night they
held a small meeting in the rear room of a saloon on North Avenue, and
there was a great deal of talk and bluster about what they ought to
do to “bring the officials to their senses.” One suggested that they
should blow up the house of Officer Michael Hoffman, but that officer
appears to have had a friend there. That friend opposed the plan and
said:

“Cowards, if you want to do anything, why don’t you meet the man
himself and attack him? Why do you seek to hurt his wife and innocent
children?”

This appealed to their sense of humanity, and they at once decided to
abandon the scheme. Finally one cut-throat arose, and, in a braggadocio
style, broke out, in a loud, coarse and beer-laden voice:

“Well, we will drop that plan, but you all know where he lives and we
all have bombs yet. Any one that does not care for a screeching woman
or squealing young ones, let him go and see the shingles fly off the
roof.”

On a subsequent night about two o’clock in the morning a carriage
drove up to the officer’s house, and one of the occupants shouted
out, “Mike!” The officer drew to the window, and his wife opened it.
At first, mistaking her for the officer, they halloaed, “We only want
to see you for a moment.” When the woman asked what was wanted they
said, “We don’t want to see you. Where is Mike?” Being informed that he
was not at home, one of the burly fellows said, just as the carriage
started away, “A d——d good thing for him that he is not at home.”

This band of intimidators and cowards did not overlook me. On two
occasions they sought to burn my house, but each time they were foiled
in their attempt. They sneaked, true to their nature, into the back
yard, and started a fire by means of a kerosene-saturated torch or by
the use of an explosive. The fires, however, failed to do any damage.

When the trial of the arch-conspirators began, these same unpunished
red-handed cranks began to give their attention to Judge Gary and his
wife. They fairly overwhelmed them with letters of a most threatening
character, and whenever there was any ruling of the court which
they regarded as inimical to their friends’ interests, they were
particularly vituperative. But throughout the whole trial neither the
Judge nor his wife was at all intimidated. They paid no attention to
them, and nearly every day Mrs. Gary sat by the side of her husband
on the bench, giving the strictest attention to the proceedings. She
was there in the forenoon and in the afternoon. When the two went
out to lunch together, a detective would always follow them, without
their request or knowledge, and the same course would be pursued when
they went home at night or came down in the morning. I had this done
as a precautionary measure, as there was no telling at that time but
what some demented Anarchist might seek vengeance upon the Judge for
some fancied wrong to the defendants. Sometimes, after lunch, Mrs.
Gary would return in the company of some lady friends, but she would
invariably, after an exchange of pleasantries with them, rejoin her
husband on the bench, where she would remain until the adjournment
of court. Once in a while the Judge would find a moment’s interval
to talk to her, and the devoted appearance of the venerable couple
formed a most pleasing and picturesque background to the crowded and
excited court scene throughout the trial. She was there during all the
arguments, and listened most intently to the reading of the verdict
which finally sent the defendants to the gallows. From the beginning of
the trial to its end she never displayed a sign of weakness or fear.

While the investigations were in progress, and even during the trial,
a lot of cranks and desperate men flocked into the city from outside
points, and there was no telling what villainous deeds they might
perpetrate and then escape undetected. For this reason I thought it
prudent to place a watchman at the house of every one actively engaged
in the case, and both night and day the lives as well as property
of all were closely watched to prevent the execution of any of the
numerous threats made against the officials by the red-handed fiends.
The attempt on my own house was made before these guards were placed,
but after that there was no trouble. The Anarchists, seeing the
precautions that had been taken, gave the houses no further attention,
and thereafter vented their spleen in denunciatory letters.

From the very start of the investigations, I engaged the services
of private men to work under my instructions, and they invariably
submitted their reports to me at my house. They never called at the
house without first notifying me, and this notification would be by
means of a sign at a place near my residence. I would always look at
the spot before entering the house, and if I found the sign, I would
also find my man in the vicinity.

I would then go up-stairs, fix the rooms so that no one could see who
might enter, and leave a sign at the window. In a few minutes my friend
would appear at the door. Not one of my officers ever knew any of these
men so employed, but they knew the officers.

Many funny incidents naturally grew out of this situation. It was very
amusing to listen to the officers. One would tell me: “I saw such and
such a fellow, a rank Anarchist, on the street to-day in company with
a stranger,” or: “I saw a couple of them in such and such a saloon
together, and one of them had a stranger with him, who looked like a
wild Anarchist.” Then the officers would describe the fellow, and one
of them would say:

“I know he is an Anarchist. He and the stranger walked around the jail
building, and the next time I meet that stranger I will bring him
in. It will do no harm to give him a few days’ entertainment in the
station. I want to introduce him to you. I bet you will keep him, and
you can, no doubt, learn something from him. I think he is a stranger
in the city, and he is here for no good purpose.”

The officer was bound to bring him in, and this placed me in a rather
awkward position. All I could do, however, was to say, “Don’t be too
hasty; wait till you find him connected with others.”

This worked well for a while, but after a time some of these men who
were in my secret service were brought in. One morning I arrived at
the station and found that they had been locked up in a cell. As
they had received at the start rigid instructions not to reveal their
identity under any circumstances, they did not send for me the moment
they were arrested, and so they had to remain until the next day, when
I promptly released them.

[Illustration: THE NOTORIOUS FLORUS’ HALL.

From a Photograph.]

At one time, one of these privates reported to me that he had seen
a fellow around with some of the worst Anarchists in the city, that
every one regarded him as sound in the Anarchist faith, and that he
and the others were in Chicago to liberate the Anarchists from the
jail. The private further stated that the stranger had never been seen
except in the company of old-time revolutionists. That was enough
for the detective to warrant arrest. I told him to make the fellow’s
acquaintance and draw him out, but be in no haste. A few days later,
the detective reported that he had spoken to the stranger and that he
would become well acquainted with him shortly.

At this time every Anarchist resort was watched very closely. I told
the private to ascertain where the stranger lived, but he must not push
himself too rapidly forward; he must make an engagement to meet the man
in the evening and stay with him as late as possible. Just as soon as
they parted, he was to double back on the stranger and follow him. A
few nights later the private reported again and said that they had been
together one evening for three hours, when they parted on the corner
of Madison and Canal Streets. He told the stranger that he would go
back to the South Side, and then, by following him after parting, he
found that the stranger started north. The man turned on Lake Street
west and entered No. 71 West Lake Street, one of the worst Anarchist
resorts in the city. This place was kept by a man named Florus, a rank
“red.” The private waited for his friend to come out, remaining in
the vicinity until Florus closed his saloon; but no one came. The next
day the private reported the facts to me, and said that the stranger
evidently had a room at Florus’ house. I told the private to try and
get the stranger on the North Side so that I could have a look at him.
He started out to hunt up his friend.

On the evening of that same day, detective No. 2 reported. He said that
he had a fellow spotted whom he described as one of a gang that had
come from St. Paul. He remarked that the fellow was very sharp, but not
sharp enough for him. He also stated that the stranger appeared to like
him, but that he did not trust him very much.

No. 2 further said: “I have been around with him every evening. He is
very good company, and I am sure that he is an Anarchist. But I can’t
get at his motives.”

I then told him to get the man up here on the North Side where I would
be able to see him.

“All right, but you want to get a good look at him; the fellow changes
his clothes often. He is a foxy fellow.”

I said that I would always be at the station from one to three o’clock,
so as to take a look at the man when they passed.

[Illustration: THE “SHADOWED” DETECTIVES.]

On the next day I was on the look-out, but no one came. The second day
I again watched, and, to my great surprise, at two o’clock I saw two
fellows, both in my employ, coming east on Chicago Avenue from Wells
Street, and on the same side where the station is located. They were
engaged in conversation, and neither looked aside as they passed. I got
up on the steps of the front entrance and remained there as they came
by. They had no sooner got past, when the fellow on the inside lifted
his hand to the right hip, and after a few steps further the other
fellow put his left hand behind his back and worked his fingers—thus
each man giving the tip on the other. They proceeded towards the
Water-works.

When all this was over, I almost fell in a fit laughing at the joke.
It was extremely ludicrous, but I had to keep it all to myself. The
privates kept at work, but I did not tell either the occupation of the
other. I had promised every man in my employ that I would not give him
away, and I kept my word. One of these detectives had been assigned
for duty north of Kinzie Street on the West Side, and the other had
been set to work particularly along Lake Street. By invitation of some
Anarchists on Milwaukee Avenue, the detective in the district north
had left his field and gone with them to the halls of the “reds” on
Lake Street, and in this way the two detectives had made each other’s
acquaintance and got mixed up.

I was now in a predicament to straighten matters out and prevent the
men from wasting time on each other. I finally told each separately
that the other was working for Billy Pinkerton, and that he should pay
no more attention to him. This worked satisfactorily. Now and then I
received a report stating that my detective had seen that Pinkerton man
at such or such a place. This will be the first time, however, that
either one knows the other’s exact identity, and they can now laugh
over their mixed-up condition and see what a fix I was in at that time.



CHAPTER XII.

 Tracking the Conspirators—Female Anarchists—A Bevy of Beauties
 Beauties—Petticoated Ugliness—The Breathless Messenger—A
 Detective’s Danger—Turning the Tables—“That Man is a Detective!”—A
 Close Call—Gaining Revolutionists’ Confidence—Vouched for by the
 Conspirators—Speech-making Extraordinary—The Hiding-place in the
 Anarchists’ Hall—Betrayed by a Woman—The Assassination of Detective
 Brown at Cedar Lake—Saloon-keepers and the Revolution—“Anarchists
 for Revenue Only”—Another Murder Plot—The Peep-hole Found—Hunting
 for Detectives—Some Amusing Ruses of the Revolutionists—A
 Collector of “Red” Literature and his Dangerous Bonfire—Ebersold’s
 Vacation—Threatening the Jury—Measures Taken for their
 Protection—Grinnell’s Danger—A “Bad Man” in Court—The Find at the
 _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ Office—Schnaubelt’s Impudent Letter—Captured
 Correspondence—The Anarchist’s Complete Letter-writer.


IN the light of all the facts that have developed, I do not believe
that it is too large a statement, nor too egotistical, to say that,
but for the work done at the Chicago Avenue Station, the Anarchist
leaders would soon have been given their liberty, and Anarchy would
have been as rampant as ever in Chicago—worse indeed than before; for
the conspirators would then have despised as well as hated the law.
What the work was, the reader will better understand after he has gone
through this and the succeeding chapters.

I did not depend wholly upon police effort, but at once employed a
number of outside men, choosing especially those who were familiar
with the Anarchists and their haunts. The funds for this purpose
were supplied to me by public-spirited citizens who wished the law
vindicated and order preserved in Chicago. I received reports from
the men thus employed from the beginning of the case up to November
20, 1887. There are 253 of the reports in all, and a most interesting
history of Chicago Anarchy do they make even in themselves.

They always conveyed important information and gave valuable clues.
They confined their efforts wholly to Anarchists, and their principal
duty was to ascertain if the reds intended to organize again for
another riot or an incendiary attempt upon the city. They were also to
learn if steps were contemplated to effect the rescue of the Anarchists
who were locked up in the County Jail, and whether they were getting
up any further murder plots. At each Anarchist meeting I had at least
one man present to note the proceedings and learn what plots they
were maturing. Generally before midnight I would know all that had
transpired at meetings of any importance. From many meetings I learned
that the Anarchists were discussing plans to revenge themselves on
the police, but in each case, as soon as they were about to take some
definite action, some one would move an adjournment or suggest the
appointment of a committee to work out the plan in some better shape.
When the next meeting was held the fellows who had done the loudest
shouting would be absent, and then those who happened to be on hand
would vent their wrath upon the absentees by calling them cowards.
In many of the smaller meetings held on Milwaukee Avenue or in that
vicinity, a lot of crazy women were usually present, and whenever
a proposition arose to kill some one or to blow up the city with
dynamite, these “squaws” proved the most bloodthirsty.

[Illustration: THE “RED” SISTERHOOD.]

In fact, if any man laid out a plan to perpetrate mischief, they would
show themselves much more eager to carry it out than the men, and it
always seemed a pleasure to the Anarchists to have them present. They
were always invited to the “war dances.” Judge Gary, Mr. Grinnell, Mr.
Bonfield and myself were usually remembered at these gatherings, and
they fairly went wild whenever bloodthirsty sentiments were uttered
against us. The reporters and the so-called capitalistic press also
shared in the general denunciations. At one meeting, held on North
Halsted Street, there were thirteen of these creatures in petticoats
present, the most hideous-looking females that could possibly be found.
If a reward of money had been offered for an uglier set, no one could
have profited upon the collection. Some of them were pock-marked,
others freckle-faced and red-haired, and others again held their
snuff-boxes in their hands while the congress was in session. One
female appeared at one of these meetings with her husband’s boots on,
and there was another one about six feet tall. She was a beauty! She
was raw-boned, had a turn-up nose, and looked as though she might have
carried the red flag in Paris during the reign of the Commune.

This meeting continued all right for about two hours. Then a rap came
on the locked door. The guard reported that one of their cause desired
admittance, giving his name at the same time,—and the new arrival
was permitted to enter. He was a large man with a black beard and
large eyes, and very shabbily dressed. He looked as though he had been
driving a coal cart for a year without washing or combing. He also
had the appearance of being on the verge of hydrophobia. As soon as
he reached the interior of the hall he blurted out hastily, in a loud
voice:

“Ladies and brothers of our cause! Please stop all proceedings—I am
out of breath—I will sit down for a few minutes.”

All present looked at the man with a great deal of curiosity and
patiently waited for him to recover his breath. The interval was about
five minutes. Then the stranger jumped up and said:

“I am from Jefferson. I ran all the way [a distance of five miles]. I
was informed that you were holding a meeting here this evening, and
that there is a spy in your midst.”

At this bit of information every one became highly excited, and the
stranger immediately proceeded to inquire if there was anyone they
suspected. They all looked at each other, and, becoming satisfied that
they were all friends of Anarchy, waited for the man to give them more
precise information. The stranger then continued:

“The man is described to me, and that is all I know.”

He looked around for a moment and finally said, pointing to the man
addressed:

“If I am not damnably mistaken, you are the man!” At the same time he
ordered the guard to lock the door and pull out the key.

“Now,” he resumed, addressing the man to whom he had pointed, who was
none other than a detective in my service, “you will have to give a
good account of yourself.”

This placed my man in a rather embarrassing position, but he was equal
to the emergency.

“I am an Anarchist,” he spoke up promptly, in a loud, clear and firm
tone of voice, “and I have been one for years, and you are simply
one of those Pinkerton bummers. What business have you here in our
meetings, I would like to know. The other day I passed Pinkerton’s
office. I was sitting in a car, and I saw you coming down stairs. I
suppose you met some fool that gave you a little information so as to
get in here. All you want to know evidently is how many are present
here, and, if possible, learn what we are doing. You get out of here
in five seconds, or I will shoot you down like a rat.”

The officer then pulled out of his pocket a large revolver, and,
brandishing it in the air, asked:

“Shall I kill that bloodhound?”

[Illustration: TURNING THE TABLES.]

The women cried out in a chorus: “Yes, yes; kill him!” The men,
however, did not like the proposition. One of them said: “Don’t kill
him here; take him out somewhere else and shoot him.” This seemed to
meet with general approval.

The turn of affairs completely surprised the stranger, and he became
so frightened that he could not speak. No one in the meeting knew him,
and he was powerless to speak in his own defense. The officer held his
revolver directed at the man’s face and kept toying with it in the
vicinity of his nose. Finally the fellow stammered out:

“I am all right, and you will find me out so.”

At last the women again broke in, with a demand that the intruder be
immediately ejected, and the men responded promptly by kicking him out
of the door. He had no sooner reached the outside than he started on a
keen run, in momentary dread of his life, and he kept up his rapid gait
until he thought he was at a safe distance.

The officer was then the hero of the moment, but he recognized the fact
that he himself was not absolutely safe after this episode. It occurred
to him that possibly the stranger might hunt up some one on Milwaukee
Avenue who could identify him and assure the meeting that he was a true
and reliable Anarchist, and thus turn the tables against the officer.
The moment, therefore, he had regained his seat, he decided to resort
to strategy, and said:

“We will have to adjourn at once. This fellow will run to the
station-house and bring the patrol wagon with a lot of officers, and we
will all be arrested.”

In less than three minutes the meeting adjourned, and then the officer
advised them all to go home immediately and not to remain a second if
they did not desire to be arrested. The Anarchists did as he suggested,
and scattered for home in a hurry.

This detective did not attend any more of the meetings, but was content
in congratulating himself on having come out of that assembly without a
bruise or a scratch.

About January, 1887, one of my privates informed me that there was a
place on Clybourn Avenue where the Anarchists were accustomed to hold
private meetings. He said that he could not get in as yet, and I told
him to pick up some one whom he could work handily. He must first
form the man’s acquaintance, and then hang around the saloons in the
neighborhood and read the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_. I gave him one of John
Most’s books and made him wear a red necktie. I advised him also to get
about half drunk, sing the Marseillaise and curse the police. By so
doing, I told him, it would not be long before he would find a partner.
Several times subsequently the detective visited the Anarchist resorts,
accompanied by a little boy who belonged to one of his friends, and in
less than two weeks he had wormed himself into the confidence of the
gang who frequented Clybourn Avenue. If any one asked him his name he
would say:

“I don’t give my name to people I don’t know. I am against law and
order, and that is sufficient. I don’t believe in having good men hung
to satisfy the rich. They will not hang if I can help any.”

For the first couple of weeks, the newly formed friends of this
detective would not take him to any of their meetings. I advised him
not to make inquiries. As soon as they thought him all right, they
would speak themselves. Within three weeks some one took him to a
meeting and vouched for him as being true to their cause. At the first
meeting he attended he saw that he was as intelligent as any one of
them, and so he delivered a short speech. That captured them, and they
pronounced him a good man. They asked him to call again at their next
meeting, and he promised that he would be on hand. He then reported to
me. I told him to find a weak spot around the building, where I could
put some one to protect him in case of discovery and danger. A few
days after he reported again that there was a vacant basement under
the house, and that it was very low. There was only a common door with
an ordinary lock. I then promised him that I would put a strong man in
there at every meeting, and in case he should be attacked by the gang,
he should shout, “Police.” Then, the moment the door was broken in, he
was to cry out, “Brother!” so that the man coming to his assistance
would know him at once. I also told him that at the next meeting he
should ascertain the size of the room and notice whatever furniture
might be there and where it was standing. This he did. He made a small
diagram.

[Illustration: UNDERGROUND AUDITORS.]

I then detailed a man to take a position in the basement at several
meetings, but, running short of men shortly afterwards, I was obliged
to take this man away. But this did not cripple us. On another occasion
the private reported again, handed me a plat of the room and gave me
some desired information. I sent for Officer Schuettler. He responded
promptly, and I told him what I wanted done. He said that he was ready
to carry out my instructions. I told him to go and buy a one-inch
auger, and next procure a funnel with the large end the circumference
of a saucer, and a pipe about four inches long. After an hour’s absence
he returned with the desired articles. I handed him several keys with
which to open the door, showed him the plat, and told him where to bore
a hole. I also told him to secure a cork and plug up the hole after he
was through. I then instructed him to get into the place about half an
hour before the meeting opened and have his apparatus in working order.
I gave Officer Schuettler the dates on which meetings were to be held,
and then he started out with good hope in his new undertaking. A few
days subsequently the officer reported back, and his face was wreathed
in smiles.

“You must have had success,” I said.

“Yes, everything worked like a charm.”

He handed me a good report and remarked that it contained the most
important part of the business done by the meeting. He suggested that
he ought to have some one with him so that he could secure all the
details. For the next meeting I sent another officer with him, and this
man had a dark lantern. Schuettler would listen, and as he whispered
the words and sentiments of the speakers, the other officer, with the
aid of the light from his lantern, would commit them to paper. The next
morning I received a full report of all the transactions.

This sort of work was kept up for several months, and during all this
time I was kept pretty well informed of the secret movements of the old
North Side groups. At the beginning of all their meetings the speakers
would declare their wish to see Judge Gary, Mr. Grinnell, all the
officers working on the case and myself hung. They generally closed
with a promise to kill all capitalists and blow up all the newspaper
buildings.

One private detective, whom I had at work for me for a long time,
proved very valuable. He belonged to a union and showed very fine
judgment. He would watch only the most radical leaders and ascertain
their intentions. He was a rabid Anarchist himself, but he did not
believe in killing people or precipitating riots so long as it would
not help their cause. He often used to say to me:

“Captain, I will be true to you. I will help you all I can to prevent
some of these fools from committing any more murders.”

He said that some of his people had not sense enough to know what
they were doing, and that, whenever he met a man of family who talked
about killing somebody, he would remonstrate with him. For this good
and sensible advice some of the reds called him a coward and a spy. At
one time, on Lake Street, a big, burly brute called him a coward and a
creeping thing. My man stepped up to the fellow and said:

“I will make you eat your own words, or you will have to kill me.”

“What do you want me to do?” asked the big ruffian.

“Fight a duel,” retorted the detective. “I will give you twenty
minutes’ time in which to secure a revolver and get ready. I will pay
your car-fare, and we will go out to Garfield Park. No one shall go
with us, and if you don’t accept my challenge, I will kill you anyhow.”

“Are you in earnest?” asked the other.

“Never more so in my life,” was the reply.

The boasting coward then begged for more time, which was not granted,
and, seeing the challenger determined, he winced.

“I believe you are a good man. I am sorry that I have insulted you, and
I beg your pardon. Let up on this. If you don’t feel like doing so, for
God’s sake do it for my wife and family.”

The young fellow then struck the braggart in the face and walked away.
The whimpering coward never raised his hand nor uttered another word.

This man whom I had employed did not like Spies. He termed Spies a
rattle-head, and disapproved of his arguments in the _Fackel_ that
the 1st of May was the time for the Anarchists to rise. In this view
all the more sensible conspirators agreed. They knew that they could
not accomplish anything, and therefore they kept away. My man was one
of this latter class. He said everything was working nicely in their
favor, but Spies killed everything. He told me that one night he was in
company with Spies, and that Spies said:

“I do not care how little I can accomplish. I want revenge on the
police. They killed my brother—a d——d policeman killed him at a
picnic. He shot him dead, and I will never stop until I have more than
double revenge.”

This statement of Spies’ about the killing was true. The brother killed
was a young tough, and had been shot by Officer Tamillo.

My man said that from the moment of this interview he had no more
use for Spies. This detective ceased work for a few months, but he
thereafter resumed his secret service, as he found that, in view of the
strikes and laying-off, he could hardly make a living otherwise. I put
him to work again, and he did well, continuing for two months. One day
he came to me and wanted $30. I gave it to him, and he started away. He
would report to me daily through the mail, and whenever he had anything
of special importance to communicate he always knew just where to find
me. I missed his reports for five days, and I failed to learn anything
of him during that time. On the 2nd of August I was severely injured by
being thrown out of my buggy, and I was obliged to keep to the house
for two weeks. On the 5th of August I received a communication from the
Coroner of Lake County, Indiana, asking me if I had a man named Charles
Brown working for me as a detective. The letter was as follows:

  HAMMOND, LAKE COUNTY, Indiana, August 3, 1887.

 _Captain Schaack_—Sir: I enclose a copy of a statement of a witness
 who identified the bodies of two parties drowned in Cedar Lake; also
 the badge pin found on the man. A Mr. Heise stated to me before he saw
 the body that the man was a detective and wore his police badge on his
 breast. The body had been found by a hard case by the name of Green
 and some pals of his, on the southeast corner of Cedar Lake. When
 the body was landed, all the garments on it were undershirt, drawers
 and pants. All the rest had disappeared. His coat was found later,
 but nothing in the pockets. The rest was not found. Mr. Heise said
 that he had some money, a watch and chain and a revolver when he left
 Chicago. Other parties say that the man Green changed a $20 note for
 him some time before he was drowned. There are some very mysterious
 circumstances with regard to his condition as found and reported by
 Green and Scotty, when they found the body, with regard to vest,
 watch, money and revolver. I think a little detective work might show
 up the matter.

  Respectfully yours,
  G. VAN DE WALKER,
  Coroner, Lake Co., Indiana.

Three days after, I learned that this was the same man I had employed,
and I placed Officer Schuettler on the case to unravel, if possible,
the mystery surrounding his death. The officer in a few days reported
that it was exceedingly difficult to obtain a clue, as no one seemed
disposed to give any information as to foul play; but enough was
learned in a general way to warrant the conclusion that underhanded
methods had been used to accomplish the man’s death.

I recalled certain incidents in connection with the man’s work as a
detective, and, placing them by the side of the seemingly accidental
drowning, I became convinced that a deliberate crime had been committed.

[Illustration: BETRAYED BY BEAUTY.]

One day this private asked me if I would allow him to tell a young lady
what he was working at. I told him that he must do nothing of the kind;
that if he did so I would have no further use for him. He then begged
me to permit him to use my name as his friend, and I told him I had no
objection to that. But I found out later that he had said more to the
young lady than I had consented to, and I believe his indiscretion in
that respect is what cost him his life.

From the moment that the girl ascertained his secret occupation he was
a doomed man. She let other Anarchists into the secret, and they at
once set about devising means for ending his life.

The information I received later was that it had been decided upon that
the young woman should inveigle him to Cedar Lake, and then, when he
was in her power, to do away with him. The two left the city together,
and were followed by the others in the conspiracy to the place where
his body was found. Before taking the trip on the water, she was seen
talking with some mysterious-looking individuals, and they then and
there decided upon the details of the plan. She was to get him to row
out into deep water, and, when they had got fairly started, her friends
were to follow in another rowboat at a convenient distance. When
they reached the middle of the lake she was to keep a close watch on
the other boat, and as they neared her boat she was to suddenly throw
herself on one side and tip the boat over so that both occupants would
be thrown into the water. Her friends were then to be close at hand,
pick her up and save her from drowning. The programme was carried out
so far as related to the capsizing of the boat, but the men did not get
near enough in time to save her. She went down with her companion and
was drowned with him.

There is no doubt as to the truth of this plot. It was in entire
keeping with Anarchistic methods; and parties who were at the lake
at the time state that they saw the young lady get up in the boat,
and that while thus standing she swung it over, precipitating herself
and her lover into the water. I had men engaged on the case for some
time, but the investigation always ended in the same way—an undoubted
conclusion that the detective’s life was taken by reason of a plot,
but no evidence to establish the guilt of the conspirators. From the
information I received, I am satisfied that the whole matter was
carefully planned and carried out by the woman.

From May 7, 1886, to November 20, 1887, I had a great deal of work,
there were so many things to look after, but after matters had become
systematized and the force had been brought down to good working order,
the burdens of the office became much easier than most people would
suppose.

In the first place, I had one hundred and sixty rank Anarchists to
look after; but as soon as these became known to my men, it was an
easy matter for the officers to report where they had seen them and
with whom they associated. Then I had ten small halls to watch where
the Anarchists met night and day. There were also seventeen saloons
where these people were accustomed to congregate. Three of these latter
had small halls connected with them. Twelve of the other saloons had
rear rooms where the reds would sit at times and hold small meetings.
After we had all their haunts located, and knowing the kind of men who
frequented them, the work of keeping track of them was not so hard.
Some of these Anarchists would enter boldly into these places, while
others would almost crawl on their stomachs to get into the resorts
without being seen. Others again would disguise themselves so that
their identity could not become known to detectives.

The officers made no attempt to close these places, and possibly the
reader may ask why such notorious and dangerous resorts were permitted
to continue unmolested.

My reason for not closing them was that the Anarchists were bound to
meet in some place. We knew their resorts thoroughly, and I had plenty
of my men among them, who worked ostensibly for the cause of Anarchy,
but who continually furnished me pointers. Again, we knew just where
they would meet and could always have our men present. If I had shut
them out from these places, they would have been driven into private
houses, broken up into smaller factions, and our work would have been
made much broader and harder in keeping track of them and their doings.
So long as I had the machine, so to speak, in my own hands, and knew
all that had been done and said, we let them alone. And the results
justified our course.

Among the saloon-keepers there was one who seemed to have a special
liking for me. This man, who had a place on Lake Street, on taking his
first drink in the morning would invariably drink to my health, saying:
“I hope that that d——d Luxemburger, Schaack, will be killed before
I go to bed to-night;” and when he was about to close his doggery for
the day, he would take two drinks and say: “I hope I will find Schaack
hanging to a lamp-post in the morning when I get up.”

When the saloon-keepers were particularly loaded with beer, they
shouted louder than any one else for Anarchy, and the louder and more
vehemently they shouted the more “solid” did they become with their
Anarchist customers. At every meeting held at these places, collections
were taken up, and the saloon-keepers could always be counted upon to
contribute liberally.

The worst of these ignorant fools never did realize why the
saloon-keepers shouted so lustily for Anarchy until they came home to
find their wives and little ones crying for bread. Then, perhaps, it
faintly dawned upon their minds that the saloon-keepers were after
their nickels. These liquor-sellers were Anarchists for revenue only,
and they sought in every way to keep on the right side of the rank
and file of the party. They always looked to it, the first thing in
the morning, that plenty of Anarchist literature and a dozen or so
copies of the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ were duly on the tables of their
places, and in some saloons beer-bloated bums, who could manage to read
fairly, were engaged to read aloud such articles as were particularly
calculated to stir up the passions of the benighted patrons. Robber and
hypocrite are terms too weak to apply to these saloon-keepers. Some of
them had “walking delegates” by their side, and if an Anarchist seemed
to them to be “going wrong” by seeking work, the delegate and assistant
robber would tell him to go back to his headquarters and wait, assuring
him that they would have all things right in a few days.

And this is the way these poor fools and their families were kept in
continual misery. Many of the dupes have had their eyes opened and have
quit frequenting these places and the underground caves. What is the
result? Their families are better looked after, and the difference in
their comfort is very apparent. They used to call the Chicago Avenue
Station “Schaack’s Bastile,” but let me say that those saloon-keepers
with their low and contemptible resorts were the real bastile-keepers.
Hundreds and hundreds of men, heads and fathers of families, have been
kept in squalid want by spending their very last cent in these holes,
and their dependents have been left without food, proper clothing or
fuel. I believe in unions for proper objects, but even these should not
be continued for the benefit of such saloon-keepers.

All these men were great heroes so long as they could hope to enrich
themselves, but when the chief conspirators were locked up in jail, and
liberal contributions were demanded for the defense, their enthusiasm
in the holy cause of Anarchy was considerably cooled.

While Chicago is regarded as the head center of Anarchy in America,
people of other cities and States should not imagine that the vicious
reds are all in this city. There are plenty of them scattered
throughout the country, and this fact was made quite manifest at the
time the Anarchists were being arrested. Friends of the imprisoned
men came to Chicago from all over the United States, and financial
assistance poured in on all sides. Those who came here were open in
their declarations of sympathy and never attempted to conceal their
actions.

When these same men were at their homes they did not dare to openly
say a word in favor of Anarchy, because they were few in numbers; but
should there be enough to make a formidable showing, they will throw
off their mask and assume a defiant, menacing attitude.

These arrivals, just as soon as they became known, were kept under
espionage, and every movement they made was looked after, lest they
might commit some desperate deed. Of course there were a great many
whom the police did not discover, and it is a wonder that, during
the excitement incident to the arrest of so many Anarchists and the
searches made of Anarchistic houses, some diabolical act was not
perpetrated. Possibly they discovered that the omnipresent police were
so thoroughly on the inside of their conspiracy that detection was
inevitable. It is certain that they knew that I had become thoroughly
posted as to the inside workings of Anarchy, and the sound fear which I
was able to inspire by a bold and aggressive policy no doubt acted as a
restraint upon any violent outburst of passion and revenge.

It was constant vigilance alone that averted trouble, and no Anarchist
of a specially vicious disposition was permitted to feel that his
movements were overlooked or unwatched. For this purpose I had
Anarchists among Anarchists to inform on Anarchists, and all the
meetings were thus kept under strict surveillance. Even private houses
were watched. On one occasion I desired to secure certain information.
One of the private detectives was accordingly detailed to watch the
rear of a certain building from an alley. He was there for two days
without being observed by any one, but on the third day he was noticed
by a police officer. The officer asked him what he was doing in that
locality, and the private responded:

“I am waiting for a friend of mine who is working in this barn, and I
expect him around soon.”

[Illustration: THALIA HALL.

From a Photograph.]

The officer placed no reliance on the statement, and so he hustled him
out of the alley. The detective walked on a short distance, and, as
soon as the officer was out of sight, retraced his steps and returned
to the place, this time finding a different point for his observations.
He had scarcely thought himself secure from further interruptions, when
the back gate of the next yard opened, and in walked the same officer.
Both were alike surprised. But this time there were no questions asked
and no explanations demanded. The officer promptly seized the detective
by the collar and marched him to the Chicago Avenue Station. The
detective kept his identity to himself, and of course found himself
speedily assigned to a cell over night. On the next morning, as I
sauntered through the lock-up, I discovered my friend in durance vile,
and, promptly looking up the record, found that he had been booked for
disorderly conduct.

I then returned and told him that, when brought into court, he should
not say anything to the judge, but play the part of a fool and
simpleton. His case came up; he was fined $5 and sent back to the
lock-up. I went to him later, handed him the money, and in half an hour
he paid his fine and left. The detective went back to his post, but the
officer was not put on that beat again. My man worked for about two
weeks and finished his job.

Of course, the detectives in the case had varied experiences. On
another occasion it was desirable to know what was being done at some
secret meetings held at Thalia Hall, No. 703 Milwaukee Avenue. This
was after the trial of the Anarchists had begun. I assigned a few
detectives in that direction, and shortly afterwards the proceedings
might as well have been open so far as the police were concerned.

My boys had a great deal of fun. They managed to discover a way by
which they secured an entrance under the stage, and at the first
meeting they attended they amused themselves by cutting a hole through
that portion of the stage facing the audience. When they had done
this, they could see all present and hear everything that was said.
Many a night they held to that port-hole and enjoyed the circus on the
outside. They heard many a speech of a threatening character against
Judge Gary, Mr. Grinnell, Mr. Bonfield and myself, and sometimes they
had to listen to some rampant speaker who would depict the pleasure
all Anarchists would enjoy at seeing the funerals of these officials
passing through the streets. Of course, those who were the most bitter
had the least courage, and so long as the auditors only listened to
speeches, my boys were perfectly satisfied that no immediate danger was
to be apprehended.

I finally learned that some of the Anarchists had become suspicious,
and therefore ordered Officer Schuettler and the others to remain away,
as they would otherwise be discovered. And they would have been. One
day the Anarchists made a careful search of the building, and they
found the hole through which the boys had peeped. They then decided on
a plan. It was that during the next meeting, which they felt certain
some of my boys would attend, a great commotion should be made in the
hall. This would surely bring one of the detectives with his eye very
near the hole. Then one of the Anarchists should stealthily creep up on
the side, suddenly plunge a sharp iron through the hole, and kill the
man within.

One officer, who proved of great assistance to me, was Charles Nordrum.
He became engaged in the case shortly after the Haymarket riot, and
after a time became a regular attaché of the detective department.
He was born in Norway on the 9th of November, 1858, and had lived in
Chicago since 1868. He joined the police force in November, 1884, and,
possessing a great deal of tact and shrewdness, his services were soon
enlisted in the work of hunting up the red conspirators. He worked at
times with Officer Schuettler, but reported to Ebersold. Both were
known to my officers, but they did not know of my private workers.
Nordrum was especially detailed to look after some meetings at Thalia
Hall, at the Emma Street Hall, in the rear room of Zepf’s saloon, in
the rear room of Greif’s saloon, at No. 600 Blue Island Avenue, and
at the Northwestern Hall, and he did not overlook meetings held in
the cellars of some of the more prominent Anarchists on the Northwest
Side and of others who were in sympathy with the Anarchists. He wormed
himself into the good graces of quite a number of the reds, and was
always kindly received by them. After a time the police stopped the
holding of meetings in some of the halls, and then the Anarchist
sympathizers harbored the reds in their cellars, furnishing candles for
illumination and nail-kegs for seats. On the 5th of July, 1887, Nordrum
was exposed at No. 599 Milwaukee Avenue, and he was at once surrounded
by an infuriated mob. The Anarchists with whom he had associated
attempted to kill him, but the officer, after a desperate fight,
succeeded in reaching the door before any serious violence had been
done him. This, of course, destroyed his further usefulness among them,
but out of his knowledge of the men and their affairs two arrests were
effected. He and Officer Schuettler brought in Emil Wende and Frederick
Kost, members of the Terra Cotta Union. These men had been selected to
buy each member of their group a 42-caliber revolver and one box of
cartridges, and the weapons so secured were to have been used on the
police on the day of the execution. The weapons had been purchased, and
as soon as the principals had been placed under arrest, a descent was
made upon the supply. All the revolvers were captured and brought to
the Central Station.

[Illustration: UNDERGROUND CONSPIRATORS.]

Noticing how successfully they had been circumvented in all their
movements, the Anarchists naturally came to the conclusion that
detectives were working in their ranks either in the interest of myself
or of Billy Pinkerton, and they resolved to discover, if possible, the
men so engaged. One day a very intelligent fellow called at my office
and wanted to know if I desired any more men to work for me among the
Anarchists. He stated that he was well acquainted with all the reds,
and, if I would pay him well, he would render good service.

I called him into my private office, and I closely questioned him. I
learned that he knew a great many of them, and I told him that I wanted
one good man. He then considered himself engaged, and said to me:

“Now you had better tell me all the men that are working for you and
show them all to me so we can work together.”

I told him that if he could find out any one of my men I would pay him
$20 a week, and then he might consider himself engaged. He went away,
but he never came back to claim the $20.

[Illustration: OFFICER NORDRUM.]

This ruse having failed, the Anarchists devised another. One day early
in August, 1886, they sent one of my countrymen, a Luxemburger, to me.
This fellow began to play his cards very nicely, and sought to carve a
very pretty little path into my confidence, but he had not proceeded
very far before my suspicions were aroused, and he got nothing to
satisfy either himself or those who sent him. While our conversation
was going on one of the officers came in, and, noticing the fellow,
called me into another room. The officer then stated that he had seen
the man hanging around West Lake Street, had seen him drunk frequently,
and had once found him in tears, saying that he had come from Paris,
had seen the downfall of the Commune there, and that now that Anarchy
was suppressed in Chicago all hope for liberty was gone, and he would
be ready to die at his own hands after he should have first killed
somebody. I returned to the office.

“See here, old fellow,” said I, “I have spies amongst the Anarchists,
but I do not want spies among my own command.”

The man was then asked if he could do any work, and when he said that
he had not done any work in a long time, I remarked that I had a job
for him. He became interested and wanted to know what kind of a job it
was.

“It is under Superintendent Felton at the House of Correction, and he
will assign you to work that will keep the dogs from biting you for six
months. You are a vagrant, and I will bring you into court to-morrow
morning and have you fined $100. That will be six months.”

The man begged piteously to be spared that punishment, and I plied
him with questions. He stated that, inasmuch as he was of the same
nationality as myself, the Anarchists thought he could readily get
into my secrets, and they had forced him to come. I told him that my
officers knew him and had him spotted, and that unless he left the city
by the next day I would have him arrested and sent to the work-house.
He left the station, and I have never seen him since. Since then I
have received a letter from Michigan, saying that if the writer had me
there I would never see Chicago again, as he would find work for me for
awhile, and I am confident that it came from my old friend.

During the progress of the investigations some curious characters were
encountered. Some sought me, as I have already noted, but in most
instances I had to hunt them. One eccentric genius was especially
noticeable. He had started out with the intention of reading himself
into the Anarchist faith, and for this purpose be became a constant
reader of the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ and its Sunday edition, the _Fackel_.
For some time he wavered in his opinion, but the more he read the
more he became convinced that there was something in Anarchy. At last
he became so deeply imbued that he almost regarded it a sacrilege to
destroy the copies he had purchased for his enlightenment. He carefully
stowed the papers away in the closet in his room, and when he returned
from work he would open the door and examine his collection much as a
miser inspects his hoard.

May 4 finally came, and with it the event he had looked forward to so
longingly. But the outcome did not suit him. He noticed that the police
were getting uncomfortably close to his locality, but he did not feel
any special concern until one evening a patrol wagon pulled up in front
of No. 105 Wells Street, near his own domicile. He saw the officers
approaching in the direction of the entrance, and, jumping from his
chair near the window, shouted to his landlady:

“For heaven’s sake!—the police are coming to search the house—what
will I do? If they come into my room and find my papers, I will be
arrested and locked up as an Anarchist. Let me burn my papers in your
stove.”

The landlady would not permit it, as she feared arrest as an
accomplice. The young man almost fell on his knees in pleading with her
for permission. Finding his appeals useless, he hastened to his room,
lit a fire in a sheet-iron stove there, and began to burn his whole
collection. His haste was so great that he crammed too many papers
in at once, and the stove became overheated. The wall paper began to
burn, and the Anarchist had to give his attention to moving the bed
and furniture away from the walls. He did not dare to give an alarm
of fire, and yet he saw that the whole room would be in flames in a
few moments. He seized a pitcher of water, emptied its contents on
the wall, opened the door and called for the landlady to come to his
assistance. She responded, and when she saw the situation, she cried
out, “Fire, fire!” He endeavored to make her desist from her cries and
urged her to bring him water. Water was brought and soused all over the
stove and the walls.

By this time the house was full of smoke, and they opened the window.
An officer in the wagon noticed the smoke, and shouted to some of his
companions that there was a fire next door up-stairs. The young man
overheard this and hastened to tell the officer that it was only smoke
and that no assistance was required.

The landlady now ran away to escape possible arrest, and the young man
was left alone. He again assured the officer below that the smoke had
all cleared away, and he slammed down the window.

[Illustration: THE SCARED AMATEUR ANARCHIST.]

After thus escaping police investigation, the youthful Anarchist felt
happy, and he had reasons to be, as he would certainly have been
arrested, in view of his actions, had the officers ever entered his
room. Others had been arrested under less suspicious circumstances,
and it took some of them a long time to satisfactorily explain their
position. The young man has since become connected with a newspaper. He
may deny this in his paper, but I will never “give him away.”

While pursuing the investigations, and never losing hope of finding
Parsons, I was one day informed by Officer Henry Fechter that a man who
knew the foxy Anarchist had seen the fugitive at Geneva, Wis., and his
arrest might be easily effected. The officer was a detail at the time
at the Northwestern Railroad depot, and his informant was a reliable
gentleman. I instructed the officer to report his information to Chief
Ebersold, as I was helpless in the matter, having no authority to send
an officer outside of the city limits. That was the last I ever heard
of it. The information was evidently pigeonholed, and Parsons continued
to bask in rural sunshine and enjoy himself until the day he came
into court of his own free will. This was not the only instance of
supine neglect in the Chief’s office and the detective department. I
have already spoken of the case of Schnaubelt, the bomb-thrower, but
there is still another striking illustration. It was shortly after
the selection of a jury to try the Anarchists. The Bonfield brothers
and myself were obliged to be in court nearly all the time, and the
Anarchists on the outside, observing this, began to concoct plots for
taking revenge on the city. In this emergency the Chief decided to go
to California, and, in order that he might have cheerful company, he
invited Lieut. Joseph Kipley, of the so-called detective department,
and Capt. William Buckley, of the First Precinct.

When Mr. Grinnell heard of this contemplated trip, at a time when,
for the sake of public appearance at least, the Chief ought to have
remained at home, he firmly remonstrated and reminded the official of
his duty. But Ebersold shook his head.

“I have got my tickets,” said he; “what will I do with them?”

“Throw them into the lake,” replied Mr. Grinnell.

But the Chief was obstinate, and he and his party left for the Pacific
Coast. The force was then left in command of Inspector John Bonfield,
who thus had double duty imposed upon him.

The moment the work of impaneling the jury had begun, the outside
Anarchists began to exert themselves to put some of their own men into
the jury-box. When they found that the State was too vigilant, however,
they next set about to secure such witnesses as could be counted upon
to swear their friends out of jail. Take the evidence of the strongest
witnesses put on the stand by the defense, and the critical, unbiased
examiner will readily discover that many of them were simply perjurers.

But the labors of the reds were in vain, and when they began to realize
that the jury did not seem impressed with the character of their
evidence, the outside barbarians grew desperate and resolved on a new
line of tactics.

One day I received a note from one of my men warning me to protect the
jury. The Anarchists, he said, were working out a scheme to injure some
of the jurors, and if they could succeed in that, they were confident
the case would have to be begun anew. If the case ever came up again,
no man would care to risk his life in a trial of the conspirators, and
their brothers would go free. If, however, the State should secure a
full set of jurors, they would give them a dose of dynamite, and that
would certainly end the case. Then they could keep on with Anarchy and
make the capitalists cower before them. This plan, I was informed, had
met the entire approval of the gang.

I conferred with Mr. Grinnell, and as a result we doubled the watch to
protect the jury. We made it a point also to know when the jurors went
out for a walk or a drive, and, without their knowledge, trustworthy
men were always with them or near them until their return. The hotel
in which they were quartered was only about two hundred feet from
the Criminal Court building, but whenever they came to the court in
the morning, or went to their meals during recess, or left the court
building after each day’s adjournment, twelve detectives along the
line kept vigilant watch of all suspicious characters. Besides the
detectives there were fifteen officers in uniform, and during the last
three days of the trial we even redoubled our vigilance. There were
twenty-five officers on the street, twenty-five more in the court-room,
and twenty-five men about the building. All these men were in uniform,
so that the “cranks” could see them, and it proved to be a very good
precaution. During the night, detectives and regular patrolmen were
watching inside and outside at the jurors’ hotel.

[Illustration: WATCHING A SUSPECT.]

On the last day of the arguments, when Mr. Grinnell was closing for
the State, something very suspicious was noticed in the court-room. A
man with a very mysterious air had been seen around the building for
eight days preceding, and it was recalled that he came at varying hours
of the day. On each occasion he held a few moments’ private talk with
some of those Anarchists who had displayed interest in the proceedings,
after which he always disappeared. The parties he generally talked
with were Belz, who assisted in conducting the defense, Mrs. Parsons
and Mrs. Holmes. He was about five feet ten inches tall, about forty
years of age, weighed about 180 pounds, had a round face, short,
stubby, sandy beard and mustache, a nose built on the feminine plan,
large, gray, piercing eyes, and withal he was not a very prepossessing
man.

During the last hour, when Mr. Grinnell was making his plea to the
jury, this man entered the court-room and took a seat in the front,
right in the midst of the Anarchists’ families. This brought him within
seven or eight feet behind the State’s Attorney. He crossed his arms
over his stomach, and leaned pretty well forward, keeping his hands
concealed under his coat. I was surprised at the fellow’s impudence,
because the court-room at the time was so still that a whisper could
have been distinctly heard all over the room. I sat at a table, with
Mr. Walker to the left and Mr. Ingham to the right, and I called the
attention of these two gentlemen to the mysterious man and his queer
attitude. They watched his nervous actions, and became alarmed lest he
might be there for some vicious object. The man had indeed a desperate
look, but it was thought best not to interrupt the proceedings just
then. Under the strict orders of Judge Gary, everybody was obliged to
be seated in the court-room, and when the seats were full no more were
admitted. This was another good precaution at such a trial. The police
officials had thus a clear view of the whole room.

At times, whenever there happened to be some severe allusions to the
defendants by Mr. Grinnell, the stranger would twist himself around
uneasily, all the time, however, maintaining his peculiar attitude. Mr.
Ingham remarked that he was afraid the stranger might suddenly jump on
Mr. Grinnell and stab him in the back. Mr. Walker expressed a similar
opinion. I said that he should get no chance to do that, as I would
kill him before he could take one step toward Mr. Grinnell, and at the
same time I got my trusty 38-caliber Colt’s revolver in position where
I could produce it the instant it was needed. We all agreed that this
would be the right course to take. At one time the man looked sharply
at me, and I gave him a savage look right into his eyes. From that time
I kept him busy looking at me.

As soon as Mr. Grinnell had concluded the man jumped up, drew near
to Belz and spoke to him. Then he turned to a woman and handed her a
paper. Meanwhile I had already called a detective to watch him, and
as soon as the stranger reached the corridor he was searched. Nothing
dangerous was found about his person, but it was impossible to learn
where he lived or what was his name. He would give no account of
himself, and he was taken down stairs and kept there until all the
detectives had taken a good look at him. He was then told to go and
never show himself around the building again.

On the next morning a revolver was found in the building, and the
opinion among those posted on the affair was that it must have belonged
to the mysterious visitor. He had evidently come with a desperate
determination to shoot some one, even at the sacrifice of his own life,
but, seeing how slim were his chances for getting near his victim after
the close watch kept upon him, he abandoned his intention and dropped
his revolver to destroy any evidence against himself.

Possibly he may have been simply engaged in playing a “bluff” on his
Anarchist friends, his intention being to make them believe that he had
nerve enough to go right into a court-room and shoot down an official,
and afterwards to excuse his failure by referring to his friends for
proof that he was so closely watched that he had no opportunity to get
near his victim.

Mr. Grinnell was shortly afterwards informed of the incident, and
he remarked that possibly a “crank” might have been found by the
Anarchists to make an assault that they themselves had not the courage
to undertake.

As I have already indicated, a great many documents and letters, public
and private, fell into the hands of the police during the searches
made, and from the collection I give a few for the purpose of showing
what kind of a dynamite office was being run by Parsons and Spies.

The following was found by Detective James Bonfield on Parsons’ desk in
the _Alarm_ office, May 5, 1886:

 Dealers in Marble and Granite Cemetery Work.—No. 193 Woodland Avenue,
 CLEVELAND, OHIO, April 29, 1886.

 _Comrade Parsons_:—Providing we send you the following dispatch:
 “Another bouncing boy, weight 11 pounds, all are well—signal Fred
 Smith,”—can you send us No. 1 for the amount we sent you by telegram.
 Please give us your lowest estimate. Also state by what express
 company you will send it to us.

Parsons had nothing to do with either handling or selling dynamite, if
his own statements are to be accepted. Still he and Spies and their
crowd seem to have had a great many inquiries for the “good stuff”
Parsons used to refer to in his speeches, and which he urged his
followers to carry in their vest pockets during the day and keep under
their pillows at night. Another evidence of their guilt was found on
the same day by Detective Bonfield in the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ office, on
Spies’ desk:

  THE ÆTNA POWDER COMPANY,      Works: Miller, Ind., Lake County.
  _Manufacturers and Dealers._      Office: No. 98 Lake Street, Chicago.

  High Explosives and Blasting Supplies.
    ORDER NO. ——.      _Sold to Cash._      CHICAGO, October 24, 1885.

 10 lbs. No. 1, 1¼, $3.50; 100 T T caps, $1.00; 100 feet double T fuse,
                            75 cts.—$5.25.

                    Paid—Ætna Powder Company, I. F.

In justice to the company it should be explained that they had no
knowledge of the purposes for which the material was to be used.

I have already referred to the great courtesy shown Schnaubelt at the
Central Station—how, when he was brought by Officer Palmer for the
third time before Lieut. Shea and the Chief, he was promptly ordered
released, and how he finally and hastily concluded to leave the city
in order to save the detective department any further trouble on his
account. It subsequently transpired that the direction he took was
for the great and boundless West; but in all his wanderings he always
seems to have kindly remembered his friends in Chicago for permitting
him to take so extended a journey. He even wrote back to some of them,
and one letter, which, was put in the possession of Officer Palmer, is
especially worthy of publicity. It reads as follows:

  PORTLAND, OREGON.

 _To the Chief of Police, Chicago_—My Dear Old Jackass: Thanks to your
 pig-headed lieutenant, I am here sound and safe. Before this reaches
 you I have left here, and the only thing I regret is that we did not
 kill more of your blue-coated hounds.

  SCHNAUBELT.

The following, received by Parsons and Spies, are self-explanatory:

  EUFAULA, April 13, 1886

 _Dear Comrade Parsons_:—I have received your papers and am very much
 obliged for them. Glad that you like my article. I am writing now for
 _To-Day_, of London, and for the _Alarm_, and am going to write for
 _La Tribune du Peuple de Paris_. Situated as I am now, I can be of no
 good but by writing, and I intend to avail myself of it. You may be
 astonished if I tell you that I never use the word “Anarchy.” I stick
 to the old word “Socialism.” It can be understood and does not require
 any knowledge of Greek to make out its meaning. If I was to seek in
 the Greek language for a word to express where I stand, I would call
 myself an Anticrat, opposed to any kind of crazy notions, democracy
 as well as aristocracy. I am for individual responsibility and social
 action. I am for liberty, but within society, not above it, and, first
 of all, I am for equality of conditions. I want organization first,
 revolution second, social economy reorganization third, and abolition
 of governmental action last of all. If you could confiscate the
 government to-morrow, I would have no objection to use it for a while.

 Anarchism has a very dangerous drift toward individualism, as you may
 perceive by reading _Liberty_, of Boston, and individualism is bound
 to generate some kind of a crazy notion and end in despotism. Beware
 of individualistic Anarchism and stick to the socialistic.

 We are in a state of warfare with all the crazes and must use all the
 weapons of warfare within our reach. Our present weapons—strikes and
 boycotting—are dangerous, and expulsive if we were to use the ballot.
 The workers are the many; the masters the few. Before upsetting the
 government, let us try to use it. Mayors, councilmen, aldermen,
 governors, and so forth, have a good deal to say about how the police
 and militia shall be used, and judges have a good deal to say when
 workingmen are prosecuted for claiming their rights. Could not the
 workers organize to conquer these offices? What do you think of that?
 What do you think of that?

  Salute and Fraternity.

  FREDERIC TAFFERD.

       *       *       *       *       *

  WHAT CHEER, KEOKUK COUNTY, IOWA, April 18, 1886.

 _A. R. Parsons, Esq._—Dear Sir: We organized a group of the Lehr und
 Wehr Verein in this town on the above date. The organizer was your
 comrade John McGinn, of Rock Spring, Wyoming. Inclosed you will find
 the amount for the cards—names as follows:

  John H. Nicholson,   miner; age,  41
  Arthur Cowrey,         ”     ”    42
  William Morgan,        ”     ”    34
  Isaac Little,          ”     ”    39
  Benjamin E. Williams,  ”     ”    37
  William Jackson,       ”     ”    39
  John McGinn,           ”     ”    29
  William H. Osborne,    ”     ”    36
  John R. Thomas,        ”     ”    33

 I suppose you will need to know who is chief and secretary of the
 group. John McGinn is chief and John H. Nicholson is the secretary.
 I remain yours, in the care of John H. Nicholson, What Cheer, Keokuk
 County, Iowa, Box 697.

       *       *       *       *       *

  ST. LOUIS, March 27, 1886.

 _Mrs. and Mr. Parsons_:—We were quite sorry to learn of your
 sickness, which prevented you to be with us at the Commune Festival,
 while we were just as glad to see that Mrs. Parsons did accept our
 invitation. My hope and wish that you are well again for the present.
 The Commune Festival was well attended by a large crowd, and it was a
 great disappointment for the J. W. P. A. being forced to announce the
 absence of the English speaker. I am quite aware that it would have
 been a great lift for our principles if Mrs. Parsons could have been
 present. However, St. Louis is not Chicago, and the movement is not as
 well progressing as in Chicago. No wonder. I have been teached lately
 a lesson myself, and therefore withdraw as a member of the group. We
 herewith send you a little collection of picture cards, which Mary
 had saved up for your children. We intended to send them along with
 Mrs. Parsons. Mary has already two large scrap-books full of such
 collections. Hail for the revolution.

  Yours respectfully,
  J. M. MENTYER.

 P. S.—If you have any old _Alarms_ to spare, I would make good use
 of them at present during this railroad strike. I shall soon send
 some money again. I also send you the _Chronicle_ so you can see what
 declaration the Knights of Labor have issued in answer to Monster
 Robber Gould.

       *       *       *       *       *

  Personal.       PORT JARVIS, N. Y., October 31, 1885.

 _My Dear Comrade_:—Well, I will stay here, as I wrote you. I started
 out on a “tramp” to look for a job. I stayed nearly a week at New
 Haven and spoke there, though why Liberty should head his letter from
 there “Unfortunate for Herr Most,” is more than I can see. I came
 here and looked up an old friend, John G. Mills. He proposed starting
 a small job book-bindery. He puts in capital and I the skill. That
 seems fair; while I will be sure of a mere living for the winter,
 there is no guarantee that capital will gain by it. So the timidity
 of capital must be overcome. Well, the bargain is this: When I pay
 back the advance capital (and until I do so I am not to draw in amount
 over $5.00 a week), paid it all, then I am to own half and we will
 start equal partners, and he furnishes more capital if necessary on
 half paid back. I have agreed, as I believe it is the best I can do,
 and it opens a good prospect. It is probable that I will not be very
 active in “the cause” here, as every moment will be occupied, but I
 am willing to go anywhere within reasonable distance this winter and
 give a lecture to any group for mere expenses—car-fare and board—and
 believe I could stir up the boys. New Jersey, Pennsylvania and New
 York, all three join together here, and any of the three States would
 be convenient. I should give a lecture rather than a speech, but it
 would be _extempore_. Can’t you drop a line to Philadelphia, or some
 point near? Buffalo is nearly as near.

 When I feel like giving you an article I shall mail it, but, of
 course, you will use it or lay it over as you feel about it. I think I
 can put a point strongly, but do not want to crowd out anything else.

 If you can use me on your paper, draw on me for all the copy you like.
 I like the Alarm and think it has improved since last spring. Any
 points I can get from French papers, I will give you the benefit of. I
 never got that card. Is it contrary to custom?

  Yours truly,
  LUM.



CHAPTER XIII.

 The Difficulties of Detection—Moving on the Enemy—A Hebrew
 Anarchist—Oppenheimer’s Story—Dancing over Dynamite—Twenty-Five
 Dollars’ Worth of Practical Socialism—A Woman’s Work—How Mrs.
 Seliger Saved the North Side—A Well-merited Tribute—Seliger
 Saved by his Wife—The Shadow of the Hangman’s Rope—A Hunt for a
 Witness—Shadowing a Hack—The Commune Celebration—Fixing Lingg’s
 Guilt—Preparing the Infernal Machines—A Boy Conspirator—Lingg’s
 Youthful Friend—Anarchy in the Blood—How John Thielen was Taken into
 Camp—His Curious Confession—Other Arrests.


THE preceding pages will have given to the reader facts enough to
show the difficulty of the task assumed, as well as the manner in
which we went about the work. One of the greatest of the obstacles
to be overcome arose from the character and habits of thought of the
Anarchists themselves. They heartily hated all law, and despised its
constituted representatives. The conspiracy was well disciplined in
itself, and it had been specially organized with a view to guarding
its secrets from the outside world and protecting its members from the
consequences of their crimes. Thus I soon found that it would require
peculiar address, patience, secretiveness and diligent work to lay bare
the great plot to the world.

I can find no better place than this to testify to the help given me
throughout the case by Assistant State’s Attorney Furthmann, whose work
was a most important feature of the result finally brought before the
Criminal Court.

The protection of society is an interest so momentous that it would
be a false modesty in me to refuse, for fear that I should be charged
with egotism, to analyze the processes by which the conviction of the
confederates in the Haymarket murder conspiracy was bought about, and
accordingly I will now say, once for all, that I believe that careful,
systematic detective inquiry, conducted with some brains and a good
deal of grit, can unravel any plot which the enemies of law and order
and our American institutions are apt to hatch. It will require tact.
It will require intelligence. It may require the hardest and most
persistent work that men may do—but about the result there can be
no doubt. Our government and our methods are strong enough for the
protection of the people and the maintenance of law and order, no
matter how dangerous may seem the forces arrayed against it.

The various steps taken may be gathered best from the memoranda made
upon the arrest of each Anarchist who had been conspicuous in his
order and who was supposed to know the secret workings of the “armed
sections;” and, in reading the particulars, the general conclusion will
become irresistible that the men who posed as the bloodthirsty bandits
of Chicago became arrant, cringing cowards when they found themselves
within the clutches of the law. In the galaxy of trembling “cranks”
there were a few exceptions, notably George Engel and Louis Lingg, but
the demeanor of the common herd under arrest proved that their vaunted
bravery had been simply so much talk “full of sound and fury.”

[Illustration: JULIUS OPPENHEIMER’S “DOUBLE.”

From a Photograph.]

One of the first arrests which I made was that of Julius Oppenheimer,
_alias_ Julius Frey. This man was a peculiar genius and was possessed
by an unbounded admiration for Anarchists and all their methods. He had
come to America five years before and had been brought up an Anarchist.
He was a Hebrew of a very pronounced type, twenty-five years of age, a
butcher by occupation, but an Anarchist in and out of season. Whenever
he succeeded in securing employment he was sure speedily to lose it
by his persistent teaching of Anarchy, and in some places people
even went so far as to drive him out of town. If fortunate enough to
get work in an adjoining town, he would tell his fellow workmen of
his prior experience and curse what he termed his persecution for
conscience’s sake. Whenever his Anarchist beliefs had been expounded,
he was promptly dismissed, and in one town he was politely informed
that unless he got out in short order he was liable to find himself
hanging to a tree. This sort of thing embittered him still more against
society, and finally he abandoned all attempts to find work. He
resolved himself into a tramp, and, in traveling from place to place,
he sought to convert every other tramp he met to his revolutionary
ideas.

He soon learned that Chicago was regarded all over the country as the
home of Socialism, its stronghold and citadel, and he made haste to
reach it so that he too could become an agitator, with nothing to do
and plenty to eat and drink. He had been in the city only a few days
when he learned of the Socialistic haunt at No. 58 Clybourn Avenue, and
there he soon made the acquaintance of Lingg and other, lesser lights,
whose principal aim seemed to be to loaf around the saloons, guzzle
beer and talk dynamite. This pleased Oppenheimer. He had traveled many
weary days, but at last he had found what he had so long sought. He was
received cautiously at first, but finally with open arms. One night
he attended a meeting at the number given above and heard Engel speak
about killing all the police in Chicago. Oppenheimer was delighted,
and on the adjournment of the meeting he grew very enthusiastic,
threatening to visit dire punishment on both the police and the
rich. He stepped out on the sidewalk, and, just then encountering a
policeman, he ejaculated:

“You old loafer, you won’t live much longer!”

The words had hardly been uttered when Oppenheimer found himself
prostrate in the gutter. The policeman passed on, and not one of
Oppenheimer’s comrades dared to come to the Anarchist’s assistance or
proffer sympathy. This was a treatment he had not expected, but he
smothered his wrath and continued to attend all the meetings of the
“revolutionary groups.” He grew stronger every day in the good graces
of his comrades, and at one of their meetings he was asked, along with
others, to secure some of the “good stuff” and bombs. He responded and
secured a substantial outfit. When the 4th of May came he happened for
some reason to be some eighteen miles out of the city, but the moment
he heard of the explosion he hastened back at once and hunted up his
old friends to help them destroy the town.

On the evening of May 7 he was encountered by Officer Loewenstein at
58 Clybourn Avenue, in Neff’s Hall, and taken to the Larrabee Street
Station. He was put into a cell and kept locked up for about a week.
Gradually it began to dawn upon his mind that he was in trouble, that
possibly the police had secured evidence against him, and so at last he
sent for me.

“I see,” he said, “that it is foolish to fight against law and order,
but you must excuse me for my actions. I read so much of that Most
trash and other books that I was really crazy. I lost my reason and did
not know what I was doing. Now I will tell all I know, but I will not
testify against any of these people.”

He was given no special assurances, but he unbosomed himself fully and
became extremely useful in giving needed information. One day he said
that if I would take him out in a carriage he would show where he had a
lot of dynamite bombs planted, and added:

“Before going after the stuff, I will show you some of the worst
Anarchists in the city, but in doing so I will tell you candidly my
life is in danger. If these men see me they will shoot me on the spot.”

He was assured that he would be fixed in such a disguise that no one
would recognize him, and, consenting to go under such conditions,
Oppenheimer was rigged out like a veritable darkey. Officers Schuettler
and Loewenstein were detailed to accompany him, and together they
visited Sullivan, Connor, Hoyne, Mohawk and Hurlbut Streets, where many
Anarchists then lived, and where Oppenheimer pointed out the houses of
many notable conspirators.

Unfortunately, in one of the localities visited, colored people were
very scarce, and it did not take the boys long to discover the sham,
when they at once began shouting, “Here is a lost, crazy nigger,” and
they followed him, throwing bricks and stones. At other times the
officers were obliged to hustle away with their “Hebrew negro,” as they
called him, as soon as possible. They got back to the station about
eleven o’clock that evening, and, entering my office, Oppenheimer was
permitted to view his ebony countenance in a mirror. He was startled by
his make-up and declared that it was most artistically done.

“Mein Gott, if I was asleep,” he exclaimed, “and wake up, and looked in
the glass, I’d think I was a real nigger.”

On the next day he was taken by the officers, in a carriage, to Lake
View, about three miles from the city limits, to locate the bombs. It
was a rainy day, and it was no easy matter for Oppenheimer to determine
the right spot, although he kept a sharp look-out. He had planted them
during the night, and that added to the difficulty. Finally he directed
the driver to a grove used as picnic grounds, and they soon reached
the spot. It now rained hard, and lightning and thunder filled the air
with light and noise. Oppenheimer hesitated about alighting from the
carriage.

“It is dangerous,” he said, “to go near the place. The bombs I have
planted here are all loaded with dynamite, and charged with poisoned
iron, and this heavy thunder may explode them and kill us all.”

Officer Schuettler said that he himself was familiar with the
properties of dynamite, and assured him that there would not be the
slightest danger. Oppenheimer then became somewhat braver. He jumped
out and beckoned to his companions to follow. They proceeded to the
dancing-platform, in the middle of the grove, and Oppenheimer, having
removed some short boards, making an opening large enough for the
admission of a man’s body, asked Loewenstein to take hold of his legs,
and, when he shouted, to pull him out, adding that when he had been
there before he had had a hard time getting out. Oppenheimer then went
in. On giving the signal, he was pulled out, with one bomb in each
hand. He was thus lowered and pulled out until he had produced thirteen
bombs. They were of the heavy gas-pipe make, loaded with dynamite and
rusty nails, with cap attachments, and ready for use in four seconds.
To show that he had exercised great care to preserve the “stuff”
properly, he asked to be lowered again, and this time he brought to the
surface an oil-cloth table-cover, which, he explained, he had used for
wrapping up the bombs so that “they would not spoil on him.” He also
fished out of the place two large navy revolvers fully loaded. Having
finished, Oppenheimer gave a sigh of relief and remarked:

“Now I feel relieved. As long as I had these things I always felt that
I must do some damage with them. I had them once in the city (May 5),
and my mind was made up to throw some in the North Side Post-office. I
also had determined to go to the _Freie Presse_ office and blow up that
d——d Michaelis, the editor of the paper. And then I was going to kill
myself.”

At about this time Oppenheimer possessed two large 44-caliber navy
revolvers and seemed withal a desperate fellow. When the parties
returned to the station he asked me to keep him there until all trouble
was over, and for three months he became quite a character about the
establishment. The defense in the Anarchist trial made several attempts
to secure his release, but Oppenheimer declined to go. He was taken out
frequently for regular exercise by one of the officers, but he always
went in disguise.

He proved such a valuable aid to the State that State’s Attorney
Grinnell ordered his release, but as he was nervous lest some one
should shoot him on regaining his full liberty, he begged me to
send him to New York City. He was accordingly furnished with money
and clothing and sent away. While he was at the station he gained
twenty-seven pounds and declared he had never been so well taken care
of in all his life. He bade all the officers who were working up
the Anarchist cases good-by and was given safe escort to the depot
by Officer Stift. Some time after his arrival in New York he was
discovered by an Anarchist, who telegraphed to Capt. Black that he was
there if wanted, but the Captain did not seem to specially care for him.

The information he furnished the State was substantially as follows:

 “I came to Chicago May 5, 1886, in the morning. I went to Seliger’s
 house, 442 Sedgwick Street. I know Seliger and his wife and Louis
 Lingg. I am an Anarchist. I think the workingmen are not treated right
 in this country. I have always attended Socialistic meetings here.
 I have attended several meetings where the speakers would call us
 to arms and to all kinds of weapons, so that when the time came we
 could secure our rights. It was urged that we should be prepared to
 fight any one who would obstruct us or oppose our ideas. A meeting
 was held at Neff’s Hall on or about last February. A man who lives on
 the West Side, on Milwaukee Avenue, and who keeps a toy store—I do
 not know his name—was there. He was accompanied by a young lady. Now
 that you show me this picture [Engel’s] I will say he is the man, and
 he made a speech at that meeting. He told us to prepare ourselves,
 and if we were too poor and could not afford to buy arms, he could
 tell us about a weapon that was cheaper and better in its effect than
 arms. He then spoke of dynamite, but in his speech he always called
 it ‘stuff.’ He explained how to make dynamite bombs. He said: ‘Take
 a gas-pipe, cut it in the length of six inches, put a wooden plug in
 one end, fill it with dynamite, then plug the other end, and drill
 a small hole through one of the plugs. In this hole put a cap and
 fuse.’ Then the bomb was complete. He also told us of a place on the
 West Side, near a bridge, where we could go and steal all the pipe we
 wanted. We could then buy the ‘stuff’ and make the bombs ourselves.
 I bought seven or eight bombs some time ago from a man named Nusser
 or Nuffer, at 54 West Lake Street. The man used to work for Greif.
 I paid him twenty-five cents apiece for them. They were dynamite
 bombs, and I purchased them at night. I had a little book that told
 all about making and using dynamite bombs. I know something about the
 armed group. They are not known by their names. They are known by
 numbers, so that the police cannot find them out in case they have
 done anything wrong. There never would be any more than three in a
 job—that is, if there were any persons to be killed. Number one
 would find the second man, and this second man would find the third.
 No questions would be asked. The first man and the third man are
 not supposed to know each other. The first and third would know the
 middle man, but in case of trouble, and should there be a ‘squeal,’
 only two parties could be given away, leaving one to get away and
 save himself. I have tried some of the dynamite bombs I had, and
 they worked splendidly. I also have a big navy revolver. Everything
 attempted hereafter will be done according to the instructions given
 in a book printed by Herr Most, of New York. Those long gas-pipe
 shells I see before me are like one that was shown me at Neff’s
 Hall last winter. A man named Rau had it there and showed it to the
 boys. I am five years in America, and have always been a Socialist.
 On Wednesday morning, May 5, when I heard that there had been a bad
 blunder committed by our boys at the Haymarket, and read an article
 in the _Freie Presse_ condemning us, I got very mad. I took my five
 dynamite bombs and started out to get revenge. My first intention was
 to blow up the North Side Post-office. The next place I decided to go
 to was the _Freie Presse_ office to blow them up. If I found I was in
 danger of being captured, I made up my mind to kill myself right there
 and then. Lingg wanted me to cut a hole in the wall in his room to
 put away a lot of dynamite bombs and dynamite, but Mrs. Seliger would
 not let me do so. A man named Bodendick, a good Anarchist, was well
 known by August Spies, and considered a rank conspirator. This is the
 man that went to Justice White’s house and demanded $25, threatening
 that if he did not get it he would blow up his house. White had him
 arrested and locked up in jail, and for this reason Spies did not
 want the man known as an Anarchist, but simply as a crazy man. The
 Socialists or Anarchists do not care much for Spies or Schwab, but
 we have kept them and looked upon them as a necessary evil. I know
 a man named Pollinger, a saloon-keeper. He was an agent here at one
 time to sell arms, but he did not run things right. He was crooked.
 The understanding we had was that, in case of a riot or revolution,
 every man should use his own judgment and do as he pleased, that is
 to say, commit murder, shoot people, burn buildings or do that for
 which he was best fitted, so long as it was in the interest of the
 Anarchistic society. The main idea inculcated in the little paper
 called the _Freiheit_, which I have read, is that no rights could be
 secured until capitalists were killed and houses were laid in ashes.
 If we would not take a chance on our lives, we would be slaves always.
 I know positively of fifty men, radical Anarchists, who stand ready to
 commit murder and to destroy the city by fire whenever they are called
 on. I know Lingg well. He is a Socialist and an Anarchist and a very
 radical revolutionist. I heard him speak at 58 Clybourn Avenue, and
 formed my opinion of him. He told me that Seliger was a coward.”

 [Illustration: WILLIAM SELIGER.

 From a Photograph.]

 [Illustration: MRS. WILLIAM SELIGER.

 From a Photograph.]

 ”“He called me a coward the morning I helped Mrs. Seliger to get the
 guns out of the house. That morning I was in Lingg’s room when Mrs.
 Seliger brought in a lot of lead and said to Lingg: ‘Here is your
 lead.’ Lingg then got mad at her and said: ‘You are crazy.’ He became
 very much excited, wrapped up his gun, got ready to move, and wanted
 me to conceal his dynamite bombs in the hall. Mrs. Seliger would not
 let him do so. Then Lingg was going to carry his bombs out of the
 house. He finally got into quite a quarrel with her and started out
 to get a wagon to carry away all his things. I told him to hurry up
 and get all his dynamite stuff away, also the printed literature he
 had, as there was danger that the police would be around to search
 the house. He looked at me and called me ‘a d——d fool and coward.’
 Then Lingg asked me to go to the West Side with him, as there was to
 be a meeting at 71 West Lake Street. Lingg saw my dynamite bombs. I
 had told him of them. I saw two round lead bombs in his room. I had
 them in my hands. Lingg told me to be careful and not let them drop,
 as they were loaded and might go off. They were dangerous, he said.
 I also saw four gas-pipe bombs in his room. Some of them were not
 finished. I remember now that Seliger, the Hermanns and Hubner were at
 the meeting in Neff’s Hall last winter when Engel urged all men who
 had revolutionary ideas to pay attention and he would explain how to
 make dynamite bombs. I am glad I am arrested. I now can realize how
 near I was to ruin through those d——d fellows making revolutionary
 speeches and exciting the people to commit murder. The books given out
 by Herr Most are doing more harm among those men than any one can
 imagine. I have given you facts, and they are true, every one of them.
 I will swear to them.”

The next arrest was that of William Seliger. When the police had
learned that Seliger’s residence had been used as a bomb factory, we
wanted him. He was a man about forty-five years of age, a carpenter by
occupation, a good mechanic, very quiet and sober, but one of the most
rabid of Anarchists. He had filled various positions in the “groups,”
and always manifested a deep interest in their meetings. He was popular
with his comrades and trusted with all their secrets. He lived at No.
442 Sedgwick Street, in a rear building up-stairs. This was a two-story
frame dwelling, and a great resort for Socialists and Anarchists.
Officer Whalen had searched the house, finding it a regular dynamite
magazine, and, locating his man, telephoned to me that Seliger was
working at Meyer’s mill on the North Pier. Officer Stift and Lieut.
Larsen were at once detailed, in charge of a patrol wagon, to effect
the arrest, and soon the man was produced at the station—May 7. When I
confronted him he stubbornly refused, according to the instructions in
Most’s book, to answer questions, but when he discovered the evidence I
had against him, he broke down and said:

“Captain, I will tell you all, but for Heaven’s sake do not arrest my
poor wife. I am to blame for all you found in my house, because I kept
that man Lingg in my house against her will—the poor woman! Hang me,
but do not trouble her, for she is innocent, and God is her witness.”

Seliger then unbosomed himself, telling of all his connection with
the Anarchists since his location in Chicago, and giving valuable
information on all the “groups,” their leaders, their places of
meeting, their purposes, their mode of operations, the character of the
speeches made at meetings, and the manufacture of bombs at his house,
giving the names of all calling or taking part in their manufacture.
He gave the most important points the State had to work on, and
every detail he furnished was fully corroborated by other parties
subsequently arrested. He was in the confidence of Lingg, and was also
a _particeps criminis_ in the manufacture of the bombs, and gave,
therefore, no hearsay statements. What was found in his house and the
character of his information are fully shown in his testimony, given in
a later chapter, as well as that of the officers during the memorable
trial.

After telling what he knew, Seliger was released, on the 28th of May,
with instructions to report every day at the Chicago Avenue Station.

Mrs. Seliger was also arrested. She was a small woman about 38 years
of age. She was found at No. 32 Sigel Street on the morning of May 10.
She readily consented to accompany Officer Schuettler to the station.
Mrs. Seliger showed plainly that she had not been in sympathy with her
husband in his revolutionary ideas, and proved a prompt and willing
witness, demonstrating before she got through that she had done
incalculable service to the people of the city.

It was in her house that Lingg made his bombs, and when I questioned
her she gave me a great deal of information concerning the man and
his methods. All the statements she made and her testimony in court
did not vary in the slightest details, even under the most rigid
cross-examination. She was found to be a very industrious woman, a
neat housekeeper, and she was highly esteemed by all her neighbors.
She related how she had lived in misery ever since her husband began
to take an active part in the Anarchist meetings, and she stated that
after Lingg came to live in the house she had not seen a pleasant hour.
She had often remonstrated with her husband and pleaded with him not to
attend the meetings, or read any of the Anarchist papers, but to remain
at home with her.

Seliger was so completely carried away by the doctrines of Johann Most,
Spies and the others that he refused to listen to his wife. The moment
he got into trouble, however, he became very penitent and readily
accepted her advice in everything.

Mrs. Seliger’s experience on the 4th day of May, when she witnessed
the preparation of the bombs, she described as terrible. There she was
forced to remain all day, she said, seeing eight men working on the
murderous weapons, some making one kind of bombs, some another, others
fitting them and loading them with dynamite, and others again putting
on the caps and fuse. Throughout the whole operation she was obliged
to listen to their bloodthirsty conversation, how they would blow up
the police stations, patrol wagons and fire-engine houses, kill all the
militia, hurl bombs into private residences, and murder every one who
opposed them.

Mrs. Seliger viewed affairs differently and told the conspirators that
there were more chains than mad dogs. Another thing they overlooked,
she said, was their own families, and should they carry all their
threats into execution their families would be made to suffer to the
end of their days in misery and want. Remonstrances, however, were
useless.

They worked until dark, and then they separated to meet in the evening
at No. 58 Clybourn Avenue. Her husband and Lingg ate supper, and
then the two put a lot of the bombs into a satchel and started for
the designated place. Lingg carried the satchel down stairs and was
followed by Seliger.

This was a trying moment, but Mrs. Seliger proved equal to the
emergency. Just as Seliger reached the third step, she grasped his arm,
threw her arms about his neck, and, like a loving, devoted wife, asked
him for God’s sake not to become a murderer.

“If you ever loved me and ever listened to me when I spoke,” she
whispered fervently into his ear, “I want you to listen to me now. I
don’t ask you to stay at home, but I want you to go with that villain
and see that he does not hurt any one. Restrain him from carrying out
his murderous ideas. If you do this, I will creep on my knees after you
and will be your slave all my life.”

[Illustration: A NOBLE WOMAN’S INFLUENCE. A KISS THAT PREVENTED
BLOODSHED.]

These tender words touched a sympathetic chord in the heart of Seliger,
and he promised to do as she had requested, while she sealed the
promise with a loving kiss. As subsequent events and his testimony
in court proved, he faithfully carried out that promise, and by that
injunction of his wife and that fervid kiss of a true woman, hundreds
of lives and millions of property were saved.

From the time they left the house until their return, Seliger never
left for a moment the side of Lingg. During the evening Lingg was
continually prompted by his own treacherous heart to throw bombs, now
at a passing patrol wagon, then at some residence or into a police
station, and invariably Seliger had some handy reason to proffer why
such an attempt would be inopportune at the moment. Lingg finally
became suspicious and upbraided Seliger for being a coward. The night
passed, and the only harm Lingg did was indirectly in the explosion
of one of his bombs at the Haymarket, to the prospective happening of
which he frequently alluded during the evening.

It is my deliberate opinion that, had it not been for this intervention
of Mrs. Seliger, hundreds of people would have been killed, and
probably one-half of the North Side destroyed, that eventful night.

After giving considerable information to the police Mrs. Seliger was
released, but kept under strict surveillance.

Seliger faithfully carried out his instructions to report at the
station daily for two weeks, and then he suddenly disappeared. Officer
Schuettler was detailed to visit his home to ascertain the cause, and
was there informed that Seliger had mysteriously left.

“Why,” inquired Mrs. Seliger, “don’t you know where he is; did you not
arrest him again?”

On being answered in the negative, she stated that it had been her
intention to call on me that afternoon with a view to finding out
something about her husband.

It looked like a case of concealment, and Mrs. Seliger was therefore
taken to the Larrabee Street Station. She immediately desired to see
me, and, when I called, she informed me that three days before her
husband had said: “I am going away. Don’t ask me any questions. You
will hear from me later,” and then bade her good-by.

She was under the impression that since leaving her he had been at the
Chicago Avenue Station. I thought it a ruse and subjected her to a
severe examination. I asked her who had been to see them and whether
they had not received money from certain lawyers or others. But Mrs.
Seliger could tell no different story from that she had already given,
and she finally volunteered the guess that possibly her husband had
been frightened away.

“If you will only allow me to go,” she earnestly pleaded, “I will
neither eat, drink nor sleep until I find him.”

I was now satisfied that she was in earnest, and, having confidence
in her, I ordered her release. But from that moment she was watched
night and day, more closely than ever. It was found that she visited
many houses in various parts of the city, and when these places were
immediately afterwards called upon by the detectives it was ascertained
that she had invariably inquired for her husband and urged those who
knew him to tell him to come home if they should happen to meet him;
that she was weary of life, and if he remained away much longer she
would not be responsible for any act of hers on her own life.

After several days’ ineffective search, Mrs. Seliger received a letter
from her husband asking her to call and see him. She hastened at once,
with a throbbing heart and a light tread, to my office. I asked her
if she would work under my instructions, and she promptly consented
to do everything in her power to help the police. I had come to the
conclusion that it would be no easy matter to find the slippery
Seliger, but that, if he was not discovered that day, we might at least
get on his track.

Mrs. Seliger was accordingly told to wait in the office a few minutes.
Two men were sent for, men whom the woman would not know. I instructed
them to slip through a side door and get a good view of her while
unobserved. A carriage was then ordered, and the driver directed to
take the woman to whatever place she might desire, and remain with her
even all day and all night, if required. Mrs. Seliger stepped into the
carriage, and the horses were soon in a sharp trot. But the conveyance
was not alone. No sooner had it started than the two men I have spoken
of jumped into a buggy and followed the carriage south, keeping it in
good view all the time.

The first stop made was at a place on West Thirteenth Street. There
Mrs. Seliger had to identify herself first, and thence she was directed
to a place some four blocks away. Arriving there, she was sent on to
Sixteenth Street, and again sent to Twelfth Street, near the limits.
She was here subjected to a great many questions, and after she had
fully proven her identity she was taken to the next house and led into
a dark bed-room, where she found her husband. She remained there about
three hours, and then, under direction of her husband’s friends, was
told to drive to several other places in order to throw any detectives
that might be watching off the scent. She did so, but the two men had
kept a close watch and were not to be baffled.

When the carriage had started for home, one of the officers returned
to the place where she had tarried so long. He represented to the
occupants that he was working for Salomon & Zeisler, attorneys for the
imprisoned conspirators, to whom Seliger had written a letter, and that
in accordance with the request they had decided to protect him and his
friends.

“Seliger,” said the officer, “is here, and I want to talk with him.”

The occupants admitted that he had been there and had had a talk with
his wife, but that he was at the time on his way home with her.

Mr. and Mrs. Seliger called at the station the next afternoon (June 8).
Both entered smiling, but it was quite apparent that Seliger was very
nervous.

“Captain,” said Mrs. Seliger, “we are both here.”

“Yes, madam,” I replied; “I am glad you are both here—on your own
account.”

“Captain,” again spoke Mrs. Seliger, “I want my husband to testify in
court against that villain Lingg. He ruined my home. He is the cause of
the slaughter of all these people. He is the cause of the sufferings
of the women and children whose husbands and fathers attended the
Anarchist meetings. Now, Captain, you see I have been faithful to my
promises. I have done as I agreed. You have my husband; he is in your
power. You can do with him as you please, but for God’s sake spare his
life.”

Mrs. Seliger had scarcely finished her appeal when she swooned away.
She had for days been wrought up with intense excitement and haunted
with terrible forebodings. The climax was reached when she had executed
her commission, and, trying as had been the situation for nights and
days, she had courageously borne up in order that she might atone the
wrongs her husband had committed despite her most earnest entreaties,
and to help in some way to extricate him, who had so cruelly wronged
her, from the meshes into which he had madly and ignorantly rushed.
Her keen judgment and innate sense of right had swept aside every
consideration of the apparent security his concealment might have given
him, and her whole soul was centered in his delivery to the authorities
that he might not eventually be found and sent to an ignominious death
on the gallows. That was her hope, and, much as she longed for his
safety, she had bent her whole energies to seeing him brought out of
concealment and placed where there might at least be a chance for
his life. The struggle had been intense, and it culminated when she
so pathetically asked that her husband’s life might be spared. Her
emotions then were at their highest tension, and as she recognized the
fact that he was now at the complete mercy of the law, from which he
had sought to escape, she could bear up no longer.

A physician was immediately sent for, and after applying restoratives
it was found she was quite a sick woman. A carriage was summoned, and
she was sent home.

Seliger was detained at the station until after the trial of the
conspirators. Mrs. Seliger was a frequent caller after that trying
day, and remained with him much of the time, cheering him and seeking
in every way to lighten his burden, like a true, devoted and loving
wife. In a subsequent conversation the circumstances in connection with
her visit to her husband at his place of concealment were learned.
It appears that at first he emphatically declined to accompany her,
and then gave his reasons. One day, while on his way to report at the
station, he was met, he said, by a stranger, and threatened that if he
ever went near the station again, or sent word verbally or by note or
letter to me, both he and his wife would be murdered in cold blood.
The threat made a marked impression on his mind. He returned home,
but made no mention of it to Mrs. Seliger. He knew, he said, that the
threat was meant, and, thinking to save his wife, he concluded to act
on the warning and place himself in concealment without her knowledge.
He left, as already stated, and decided to keep under cover to await
results.

He called first at the house of a widow named Bertha Neubarth, No. 1109
Nelson Street, Lake View. This was a small cottage, with a basement
used as a tailor-shop, and, thinking it a secure place, he remained
there a few days. Then he went to the house of a friend, named Gustav
Belz, who lived near McCormick’s factory, and remained there several
days. His next move was to a house on West Twelfth Street, near the
city limits, and there he remained until discovered by his wife.
The letter he had sent to her was mailed by a trusted friend named
Malinwitz, and the purpose he had in sending it was to ascertain if
matters had changed any and if I was angry over his sudden departure.
On meeting his wife, the first question he asked was as to whether the
police had been watching their house, and, on being answered in the
affirmative, and informed that she had even been locked up again, he
asked for particulars and the cause for her release.

“Capt. Schaack,” she said, “let me out in order to bring you back.”

“I often felt sorry,” answered the husband, “for going away, but I will
never go back.”

His wife insisted that he must go back, and said:

“I told the Captain that I would come and see you. The Captain said
that he would give you six hours to return, and that if you did not
report to his office within that time, he would surely find you and
prosecute you for murder. Your chances for hanging, he said, were very
good, and you need look for no mercy at his hands. He also said that
he had your picture ready, to send out for your arrest on sight, and
that it would be useless for you to hide or run away. I saw the picture
myself, and the Captain intends to publish a large reward for your
arrest.”

“I believe all you say,” said Seliger, struggling with his feelings,
“but what would you prefer, seeing me shot or killed by assassins, or
hung by law?”

“All these cowards making threats,” replied the wife, “will be
arrested. The station-houses on the North Side are now full of the
murderers. I know the Captain will take care of us, and, if you are
arrested, you will have no one to help you or do anything for you;
then you are sure to hang. You had better come with me to Captain
Schaack.”

He consented, and she sent word that they would be at the station
the next day. Seliger gave himself up, and Mrs. Seliger redeemed her
promise. The sacrifice, in view of the uncertainties of the time,
seemed great, but had it not been for the honesty and persistency of
that true woman, Seliger to-day would lie in an unhonored grave. Both
proved strong witnesses at the trial, and shortly after his release
they left the city. Reports from them show that he has been cured of
Johann Most’s crazy notions. He now denounces Anarchy both in America
and Germany, in which latter country he and his wife were born. He has
applied himself to legitimate pursuits as a law-abiding citizen, and is
prospering.

Seliger, during his interview with me, recounted his connection with
the Anarchists as follows:

 “About three years ago I noticed an article in the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_
 that the North Side group would give lessons to all who desired, in
 the English language. I went to Neff’s Hall and I was there told
 that the school was only for members, and that, if I wanted to join,
 I could do so. I did, and a year afterwards I was elected financial
 secretary. In looking over the books, I found that the group had 206
 members, the most of them being in arrears, but no one ceased to be
 a member on account of it. I found also that there was a great deal
 of wrangling and trouble among the members. One faction claimed to
 be revolutionary, as they were at war with capital. This contention
 drew the lines pretty sharply, and the Socialistic movement commenced
 to take a sharp character. Stellmacher, I believe, was executed in
 Vienna. It was on Monday, if I am not mistaken, in the month of
 August, 1884. My group decided to commemorate the event and glorify
 the man. They had posters printed, and about twenty men went to
 work to post them, especially in the vicinity of the churches. From
 that day they began talking force and dynamite. At every meeting,
 Stellmacher’s name was mentioned and his deeds glorified. Some held
 that Stellmacher was simply a burglar and murderer, having burglarized
 the premises of Banker Eifert at Vienna and killed one of his
 children. Rau and Lange were always quarreling over this question.
 Lange maintained that it was a shame that any Socialist, Communist
 or Anarchist should burglarize and murder under a pretext of getting
 money for the cause. Every member, he said, could get enough money
 in an honest way to swell the fund for agitation and the destruction
 of capital. Lange said that he was not opposed to the killing of
 capitalists in the right way, but he did not want to see children
 killed. Rau would uphold a contrary view. He held that it was all the
 same, capitalist or child, and said that the children of the rich
 would grow up only to learn how to enrich themselves at the expense
 of the working people. Schnaubelt favored murder and thought that it
 would be best for the Anarchists to form into groups of four or five
 with a view to killing any one who would work against the laboring
 people’s agitation. One or two suddenly removed would not arouse
 suspicion.

 “A cigar-maker named Hoffman became a member of the North Side
 group, and he was never satisfied with the rules, as he regarded
 them too lenient. He wanted the whole International Working People’s
 Association made an armed body, but Schwab and Hermann opposed it,
 as they said that the Lehr und Wehr Verein filled that part of the
 bill. Hoffman subsequently withdrew from the group and the military
 organization. He as well as Polling and Hermann wanted the Anarchists
 to give a commemorative entertainment on the anniversary of the Paris
 Commune, in March, 1885, and of the clubbing of the working people
 of Philadelphia by the police. His idea was that rifles should be
 discharged, and then a woman personating the goddess of liberty
 should throw a chain away from her body. In this way the three men
 believed that the agitation for securing arms could be greatly helped.
 The committee for the celebration of the Commune opposed this plan,
 especially Neebe and Rau. Neebe held that the celebration of the
 Commune as generally planned by the committee was for the express
 purpose of making money to help agitation, and the other features were
 not necessary. Hoffman endeavored to carry through his plan, but he
 was knocked out. After some further wrangling he left the group and
 permanently kept away. At another meeting Rau said that he desired to
 bring dynamite into the meetings and show how it was manufactured, but
 no definite action was taken.

 “At the beginning of last year [1885], a man named Deters declared
 that he was an Anarchist and was very loud in his declarations, but
 he was afterwards expelled for stealing tickets from the Central
 Labor Union. Poch always claimed to be a Communist, and he became
 unpopular on account of a dereliction. Haker was also a Communist, but
 he was expelled on account of being in arrears $3 as a member of the
 Southwest group. Then Lingg became a member, and from that time served
 as president of that group. He was always in hot words with a man
 named Hartwig. During the beginning of April we got quite a number of
 new members, and they all became strong agitators in the cause. I knew
 as members of the armed sections Schlomeker, a carpenter; Stahlbaum,
 a carpenter, lieutenant of the first company; Petschke, secretary of
 the same company; Kitgus; the Riemer brothers, one a carpenter and
 the other a painter; Ted, a carpenter; Rau, Bak, Hirschberger, the
 Hermann brothers, all members of the Lehr und Wehr Verein; the Hageman
 brothers; the Lehman brothers; Messenbrink, a carpenter; Stak, a
 tinsmith; Lauke, Feltes and Kraemer, all carpenters, and Siebach and
 Niendorf, carpenters, living in Lake View. With these two exceptions
 and those of Lenhard and Krueger, who belonged to the Northwest group,
 all I have mentioned lived on the North Side. There were also Classner
 and Sisterer, who belonged to the Southwest group. I know a great many
 others who belonged to the armed forces, but I don’t recall their
 names. They all carried revolvers. All I knew about bombs at that time
 was what I heard Lingg say, that the Northwest group and the Southwest
 groups and the Bohemians were well supplied with them. Among the
 Bohemian Socialists I only know Mikolanda and Hrusha and three more
 whose names I can’t remember.

 “At a meeting last winter [1885] of the North Side group, Neebe stated
 that it was time that every comrade should supply himself with arms
 and should lay bombs under his pillow at night and sleep over them.
 Every one should practice so as to know how to handle them when
 necessary. Every workingman, he said, who is down on capitalists,
 should kill every one of them, and they should not neglect the
 police and the militia, because they were hired and supported by the
 capitalists. He said that he himself would kill one of these loafers
 and would not turn an eye on him. One in the audience, a barber,
 whose name I don’t know, said that there were some among the militia
 and the police who would join them in case of an uprising and cited
 as an instance that during the riots of 1877 he had spoken to some of
 them and they had told him that they would not shoot at the strikers.
 Neebe declared that it was all the same. ‘A man employed by the
 capitalists,’ he said, ‘is my enemy, even though he is my brother.’ In
 case of an uprising, he said, every revolutionist should use force on
 every corner and on the sidewalks, and should throw dynamite wherever
 these loafers stood or walked.

 “The casting of one bomb Lingg had was made of sheet-iron, and
 the man who manufactured it was shown to me at the office of the
 _Arbeiter-Zeitung_. Then Lingg had another casting made out of iron,
 which he had made at some iron foundry. I saw him have dynamite twice
 in a cigar-box. Before this he said to me that he had seen Spies at
 the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ office, and that Spies had told him that he
 would give him dynamite. This was about two months before the 4th of
 May. Friday preceding that day Lingg received a box, 1 × 2½ feet in
 dimensions, from the West Side, at the hands of a man whom I took
 to be a Bohemian. Lingg always liked the Bohemians. With a view to
 learning this man’s address I walked over to the West Side, and I
 found that he had moved to No. 661 Blue Island Avenue. One evening
 two others came to see Haker, and Haker told them, as I entered,
 that I was Seliger. One of them I knew, his name being Kaiser, a
 carpenter, and the other was a strongly built man of medium height
 and bow-legged. They were a little embarrassed and said that they did
 not know what to say under the circumstances. I asked them if they
 had bombs, and Haker spoke up and said that he would not say anything
 about it, even to his brother, as he expected a search would be made
 of his house. But he said they would find nothing, and the other
 two confirmed his story. It was stated that every one should buy a
 book, which could be had at cost price, giving directions about the
 manufacture of dynamite, which could also be purchased very cheap.
 The North Side group bought one of these books. I was so informed by
 Thielen, who had seen it.

 “A short time after this I was elected a member of the central
 committee, with four other delegates from the North Side group, who
 were Neebe, Rau, Hermann and Hubner, and as long as I was a member
 Neebe and Rau were continued as delegates to that committee. Spies was
 at the head of it. I attended seven of its meetings, and at one of
 our sessions, during the West Side street-car drivers’ strike, Spies
 said that we should take part in that strike. In case the strikers
 should resort to force against the company and the policemen who
 protected it, Spies said that he had a few bombs on hand, and he would
 distribute some of them to people whom he knew. At the same meeting
 it was proposed that a meeting should be held on the lake front the
 following Sunday, but there was some opposition to it. Spies, however,
 declared that the meeting should be held and that every one should
 be present, well armed. Then, in case the police should interfere
 to disperse the gathering, they should send them home with bloody
 heads. The meeting was held, but there was no interference. Spies
 also proposed that meetings of the committee should be held every
 evening at the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ office during the strike, to hear
 grievances, and that, whenever necessary, special meetings should be
 held of the various groups. The leaders in the committee were Spies,
 Rau, Neebe, Hermann, a man named Walter, of the American group, and
 a small man from the Northwest group with an illuminated nose, who
 was a very intimate friend of Spies. This man was the founder of the
 Freiheit group.

 “Just preceding this car strike, Haker, who belonged to Carpenters’
 Union No. 1, was a strong advocate of the use of dynamite. At one
 meeting he told some of the members to wait till after adjournment, as
 he explained that he desired to show them something very interesting.
 They remained, and he produced a ball of clay, having two parts joined
 together and a cavity in the center. He told them that he manufactured
 them, and if any one desired any they could get them from him at a
 dollar each. I then left.

 “Subsequently I called upon Secretary Lotz and asked for the book of
 membership of the North Side group. I found that Charles Bock was
 its financial secretary; Hubner, librarian; and Rau, delegate to
 the central committee, which position he held almost continuously.
 Abraham Hermann was also a delegate and agent for the sale of arms
 to the whole organization. The principal speakers at our meetings
 were Schwab, Feltes or Veltes, Neebe, Grottkau and (while living
 in the city) Kraemer. During 1885 an Austrian, whose name I don’t
 remember, spoke very often, but he is now at the Jefferson Insane
 Asylum. Fischer is one of the founders of the North Side group and
 always spoke most strongly in favor of Anarchy. Rau, an employé of
 the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_, Lingg, Schnaubelt and Emil Hoffman, the
 cigar-maker, also spoke frequently. Hoffman claimed that he was a
 great friend of Most and one of the founders of _Freiheit_ of London.
 He had lived in London several years and was an active member until
 he left our organization, as I have already stated. Hermann would
 sometimes take the places of speakers who might happen to be absent
 from some of the meetings. Hirschberger, of the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_,
 and Menz, a carpenter, born in America, generally participated in some
 of the discussions.

 “A man named Kiesling was a member, and after my liberation from the
 station I was informed by Haker, Kaiser and another man that he had
 helped a member to escape arrest. Commes, or Commens, had shot and
 wounded two Jews, and Kiesling was delegated to take him in an express
 wagon to Lake View, where he turned him over to some members of the
 Southwest Side group, who then assisted him in effecting his escape.”

Seliger then gave a number of names of members who belonged to the
groups he was most familiar with, as follows:

 “_North Side Group._—Asher, a mason; Turban, carpenter; Huber,
 carpenter; Heuman, railroad laborer; Stak, cornice-maker; Reuter;
 Habitzreiter, of the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_; Kasbe, shoemaker; Menge,
 carrier of _Arbeiter-Zeitung_; Hoelscher, carrier of same paper;
 Jebolinski, carpenter; Behrens, shoemaker. Members no longer with
 group: Wichman, a saloon-keeper, expelled from Berlin, Germany; Ammer,
 book-binder; the Thiesen brothers, one a shoemaker and the other a
 carpenter, and Polling.

 “_Northwest Side Group._—Blume, carpenter; Elias, carpenter; Fischer,
 Engel, Lehnhard, Breitenfeld. Blume and Elias left because they were
 quarreling all the time with Fischer, and they founded the Karl Marx
 group.

 “_Southwest Side Group._—Scholz; Fehling, cigar-maker; Kaiser,
 carpenter; Haker, carpenter; Schoening.”

The next arrest was that of JOHN THIELEN. Thielen was a man about 37
year of age, born near the city of Coblentz, Germany, a carpenter by
occupation, and a rabid “red,” living in Chicago at No. 509 North
Halsted Street. He had been an Anarchist in the old country, and there
had divided his time between talking up the social revolution and
running a small grocery store, until business had got so dull that he
was obliged to sell out. He then fell back upon his trade for a living.
Much as it went against his grain to labor, he had no alternative
except to starve. It occurred to him that the stronger a Socialist
he became the less hard work he would have to do, and he accordingly
availed himself of every opportunity to talk on his pet hobby. At last
the officials of Emperor William got after him, and, packing up a few
things, he emigrated to America, reaching Chicago about five years
before his arrest. He had been here only a short time when he learned
that there were a number of men in the city who talked to workingmen
about the shortest way to get rich without work, how to have a good
time playing cards, drinking beer, attending picnics and balls, wearing
good clothes, and smoking good cigars. This struck Thielen’s fancy,
and he concluded that at last he had found the place he had longed
for during many years. He decided to identify himself with these men,
and accordingly made haste to attend all their meetings. It was not
long before he proved himself as good an Anarchist as the rest of the
leaders. His wife also had become imbued with his doctrines, and had
grown indeed more positive than her husband.

[Illustration: JOHN THIELEN.

From a Photograph.]

They had a son, 15 years of age, a tall, slim fellow. Nothing would
satisfy the mother except his induction into the order. After the
stripling had become a member, she was still unsatisfied; he must join
the Sharpshooters. This the boy did, and thus he fell in with the most
rabid of the Anarchists—into the very crowd that gathered in secret
session at 63 Emma Street on Sunday, May 2, at ten o’clock in the
morning, to hear Engel unfold his murderous plan.

The youth was a close listener and an ardent admirer of the leaders.
He also attended the Haymarket meeting, and went there for a purpose.
It appears that the order had established, in furtherance of this
conspiracy, a line of runners, composed of all the young men who were
swift and light of foot, the object being to furnish means of rapid
communication between a “commander” and his men. For instance, in
the execution of Engel’s plan, a number of Anarchists had gone to
Wicker Park, some to Humboldt Park, and others to Garfield Park, on
the evening of May 4. Their instructions were to stand ready to obey
orders, and, on receipt of a signal, to advance into the city and shoot
down all who opposed them. The “commander” attended the Haymarket
meeting, accompanied by young Thielen, and it was his intention, the
moment the proper signal was given, to despatch the boy on his mission.
The boy was then to start on a keen run to a certain place, where he
was to meet another runner; the second was to take the message to a
third, and so on until the men posted at the parks were reached.

Fortunately, however, young Thielen missed his “commander” when the
bomb fell and the shooting commenced at the Haymarket. The boy then
lost his courage, like his superior, and applied his speed to getting
home as fast as possible.

Young Thielen had been selected because of his supposed coolness. He
had been a great favorite of Lingg’s, and had been in that worthy’s
room on that very afternoon up to 7:30 in the evening. He had even
helped to load dynamite bombs there. When the work had been completed,
Lingg had distributed a lot of the dynamite left over to his friends
present. Three boxes had been given to Thielen and the boy, and the
“stuff” was subsequently found buried under their house, together with
fire-arms and ammunition.

When trouble finally surrounded the Thielen household, the wife
and mother showed true grit. On being shown the evidence of their
complicity in a conspiracy, she neither flinched nor quivered.

“Our whole family are Anarchists,” she defiantly remarked, “and what of
it? Try your best, you can’t scare me!”

The son was ordered by the officers to come with them to the station,
and as they left the house Mrs. Thielen said to him:

“I want you to brace up and be firm, as you have been taught by your
comrades. This is for a good cause. Bear it all like a man.”

The boy was taken to the Larrabee Street Station and put under
cross-fire. He was decidedly firm at first, but after he had become
involved in a number of false statements and shown that the police knew
a good deal about him, he looked at every officer in the station and
asked:

“If I tell all I know and tell the truth, what will you do with me?”

He was informed that such a course would be the best for him and that
it might afford him a chance to get out of his troubles. This satisfied
the youth, and he gave a long and strong statement, which others
subsequently corroborated. He then explained that he had been misled
into reading all sorts of nonsense on Anarchy. He had eagerly studied
all books on the question, and, being encouraged by his parents, had
taken a deep interest in all the meetings. He worked whenever he could
find employment, but at all times his mind was centered in the success
of the cause.

He was detained at the station only a few days, and then released on a
promise to hold himself subject to the orders of the State and testify
when called on. But the State did not need his evidence, and soon
thereafter I secured him employment in a factory. He is still at work
and is now proving himself an exemplary youth.

The father proved a rather elusive individual after the police began
searching for him. But at the time of Mrs. Seliger’s arrest he ventured
too near the Chicago Avenue Station. It was on the morning of May 12
that a man was noticed in the company of two women. The man remained on
the outside at a good distance, but the women entered the court-room of
the station and sat there for some time, watching the prisoners brought
before the magistrate. The women asked no questions of any one in the
room, and it was soon discovered that they had no business there.
Officer Loewenstein approached them and asked if they had come to see
Mrs. Seliger. One replied that they did not know her.

“But,” interposed the other, with some hesitancy, “is she here?”

“I can’t tell,” remarked the officer. “I was going to make some
inquiries, but as you do not know her, it will save me the trouble.”

“Say, young man,” said one of the women, who was getting interested as
well as curious, “what is your business here?”

“Well, madam, I am known here as a ‘straw-bailer.’ I go bail for all
people who pay me well, and I am all O. K. with the police. If you want
anything done for Mrs. Seliger, you must be very careful here. Don’t
let the police know your object. As you are Germans, I will not charge
you anything for my trouble, if I can do anything for you.”

“Well, we will talk to you later,” they said. “Can we remain here for
awhile?”

“Oh, yes; I will take care of you so that no one will disturb you,”
replied the officer, in a patronizing tone of voice. “By the way, when
I came to the station this morning, I saw you standing at the corner
talking to a gentleman with black whiskers, and he is now standing
across the street. If he is a friend of yours, I will call him in here.”

“Oh, yes,” responded the women, “he is our friend and a friend of Mr.
and Mrs. Seliger. He is a good man.”

“What is his name? I will call him in at once.”

“His name is John Thielen. He lives at No. 509 North Halsted Street and
is all right.”

Officer Stift meantime had kept his eye on the individual across the
street, with instructions not to arrest him so long as he hovered
about the station, but, in the event of his going away any distance,
to take him in charge. The man at no time went far from his post; he
was too anxious to hear from the women. The moment Officer Loewenstein
had secured the information about his identity, he posted across the
street, and, hailing the man, said:

“John, I think you have been ‘ransacking’ around here long enough. Come
with me; the boys want to see you.”

“Who are the boys?” inquired Thielen.

“Capt. Schaack,” answered the officer.

“I don’t want to see him or have anything to do with him.” Thielen was
surprised as well as indignant.

“Well,” said the officer, “he would like to make your acquaintance.”

“You tell him that he don’t know me and I don’t know him; so what the
d——d does he want? Good-day, I am going home.”

“You must come in first and give an account of yourself.”

“I am a good man; I am not afraid.”

He went to the station rather reluctantly, still with an air of
innocence and bravery. The moment he stepped inside the office, I said
to him:

“John, you are an Anarchist. You are one of the rioters. You were at
the Haymarket meeting. You knew about the bombs. You are under arrest.”

“I am no Anarchist,” responded John, rather warmly. “I am a carpenter.”

“Yes,” said I, “you are both, and you live at 509 North Halsted Street.
I have no time now to talk to you. Whenever you want to see me send
word by the turnkey.”

On the second day, John sent word that he wanted to see me. He was
taken up into the office, and there he asked what benefit it would
be to him if he told all he knew. He was informed that we would
expect him to tell only the truth and not lie about any one or shield
any one who was guilty of wrong-doing. If he did all this honestly
and conscientiously the State would, no doubt, reward him for his
information. Thielen assented to the proposition, but he told very
little at this interview. He was brought up again the next day, and
from the questions put he soon discovered that some one had been
telling the truth about him.

“Now I will tell you all I know,” he said, “and let it fall where it
belongs. What I say I will swear to. I see every one is trying to get
out. First I will tell you what I did myself, and then what the others
did.”

He accordingly made a long statement, but as substantially the same
facts were brought out in the trial by other witnesses, he was never
called on to testify. Since then Thielen has abandoned Anarchy and is a
better man.

The statement Thielen made runs as follows, and it will be noticed by
reference to the trial proceedings that, had he been a witness, he
would have fully corroborated the testimony given by Seliger and his
wife. On being shown, at the station, some round lead bombs, he said:

 “I saw Louis Lingg have twenty-two pieces like these in his room. They
 were not all finished. I saw them when they were being cast. They
 were in halves and placed in Louis Lingg’s trunk. If that trouble
 had not occurred at McCormick’s factory that Monday, they would not
 have been finished yet, but after that trouble with the officers he
 completed them. That is, he loaded them with dynamite, ready to be
 used. I never knew of any one or heard of anybody who could make
 these bombs except Lingg. I had two of these gas-pipe bombs, loaded
 with dynamite. I got them from Lingg, and I threw them away as soon
 as I got them. There were only a few left of these long ones. There
 were seventeen pieces loaded at Seliger’s house. Bonfield had better
 look out for himself, as these bombs are for the most part made for
 him, and he will get one yet. He was shooting the people during the
 West Side car strike and at McCormick’s. I promised to give you the
 round bombs that I had, but, as I said, I threw them away and out of
 danger. I will tell you, before all these men, that these two iron
 shells now lying before me at this table I got from Lingg at his
 house, No. 442 Sedgwick Street, on May 4, 1886. He gave them to me,
 and I took them along home. They were loaded, and there was a fuse
 in each of them. This was Tuesday night, May 4, 8 o’clock. The very
 same night he also gave me those two cigar-boxes here now before me,
 filled with dynamite. He wanted me to take them and throw them in the
 alley. He said they were empty, but I saw that they were filled. They
 were too heavy to be empty. I took them home myself, together with my
 boy. We buried them under our house. The last time I saw any bombs
 was at Florus’ place, where a search was made by the police. I would
 have given up those bombs to you to-night if you had not found them.
 In these boxes is finished dynamite ready to be used. I know Seliger
 had charge of selling arms. We paid $7.00 for a revolver and $10.00
 for a gun. I saw Lingg and Seliger at Seliger’s house, Tuesday, May
 4, at about 8 P.M., and 9:30 P.M. I saw them together at Larrabee
 Street. There were twenty-two lead bombs that I saw in Lingg’s room.
 They were made on a Sunday afternoon. Lingg, Seliger and myself made
 them. They had been cast about two weeks before Tuesday, May 4. I saw
 in a satchel in Lingg’s room about fifteen pieces of these long iron
 shells, on Tuesday, May 4. There were also some round lead bombs, and
 they were all loaded. The time I was in Lingg’s room, May 4, I saw
 one man take along with him, when he left, three round lead bombs
 loaded with dynamite, and Lingg gave those bombs to the man himself.
 I know the man, and I, John Thielen, will get them from that man and
 give them to you this evening. After what happened at the Haymarket
 on that Tuesday evening, May 4, you could not hear of any one having
 bombs in their possession. I should judge that two men more received
 from Lingg six round bombs loaded with dynamite. In Greif’s Hall,
 54 West Lake Street, on the evening of May 3, at the meeting there,
 Lingg said to the people present that he would furnish the dynamite
 bombs if any one would throw them. I told him to throw the bombs
 himself. Then I said to Lingg that it would cost a man his life to
 throw them. Lingg replied that no man could see any one throw one of
 them. He said if necessary he would throw some. He also stated that
 if any one would come to him he would show him how to make bombs with
 dynamite. I saw Lingg and Seliger together at Thüringer Hall—Neff’s
 place—58 Clybourn Avenue, on the evening of May 4. Lingg had a
 satchel. The satchel was placed near a little passageway leading to
 the ‘gents’ closet.’ It was a gray canvas-covered satchel about two
 feet long, one foot wide and one and a half feet high. Seliger, Lingg
 and myself went away together to Clybourn Avenue. We then went up on
 Larrabee Street, at 9:30 P.M. I left Lingg and Seliger at the corner
 of Clybourn Avenue and Larrabee Street. The satchel was brought by
 Lingg to Neff’s Hall that night, and any one there could help himself
 to bombs. Lingg said to some people: ‘There are bombs in that satchel,
 and now help yourselves.’ These words were spoken in the saloon of
 Neff’s place to a crowd of armed men.”

The above confession was given on the 14th of May. On the next day
Thielen was brought face to face with Lingg—with what results the next
chapter will show. On the 16th of May Thielen supplemented his first
statement with additional particulars. He said:

 “On Tuesday, May 4, 1886, about 9:30 P.M., myself and old man Lehman
 were together on the corner of North Avenue and Larrabee Street, near
 the police station, and afterwards we went back to Neff’s Hall. Three
 men came into the saloon and said that there had been a terrible
 explosion on the West Side at the Haymarket meeting and that a great
 many were killed and wounded; that Fielden had made a speech, and a
 radical one. The police came, and a shot was fired. Some one in the
 crowd said: ‘Now, do not spare powder or lead.’ A friend of mine got
 shot through the cheek. The man works for Mr. Christal, corner of Lake
 and State Streets, in a basement—a carpenter-shop. That man stated
 that he was there at the meeting, standing near the speaker, and about
 fifteen feet away from where the bomb was thrown. The understanding
 with us when we left Neff’s Hall on that Tuesday night, May 4, was
 to make a racket that would call out the police. It was a failure
 because the West Side police did not come out any sooner to interfere
 with the meeting or the mob. The grudge we had was the score of the
 police shooting our men at McCormick’s factory. We wanted revenge.
 The order came from the International armed men or the group. I was
 at Greif’s Hall, 54 West Lake Street, May 3. I there saw a circular
 calling for revenge. I was at the meeting Monday night at Zepf’s Hall,
 and there an order was given for the armed men to go to 54 West Lake
 Street, in the basement. The pass-word to get into that meeting was ‘Y
 komme.’ I went there to the meeting. I found George Engel there, and
 he made a speech. The whole plan was then unfolded by Engel. He said
 that there would be a meeting held on Tuesday night, May 4, at the
 Haymarket, and that the North Siders should stay on the North Side,
 and there they should wait until it had started—meaning the riot
 on the West Side. Engel said that some of those who had arms should
 come to the meeting, and those who had no arms should stay away from
 the meeting at the Haymarket. At the meeting in the basement a man
 by the name of Waller was chairman. George Engel did the speaking.
 There were about fifty men present belonging to the armed sections.
 Engel explained that the plan would have to be worked in this way:
 As soon as they had commenced on the West Side, then they should
 commence on the South Side and the North Side. Engel stated that
 the signal would be a fire which would be set, and seen at Wicker
 Park, and by the noise of the shooting. That would be the signal for
 commencing, and they should all attack the police stations; should
 throw dynamite bombs into the stations, to either kill or keep the
 officers in the stations, and should shoot the horses on the patrol
 wagons to prevent the police from helping one another. Engel is the
 man who proposed this plan. Engel is the only man that gave us any
 orders. And under the orders Engel gave us that night, May 3, in that
 basement, 54 West Lake Street, we started out May 4 on the North Side
 to do harm—that is, to shoot and kill anything that opposed us. The
 word ‘Ruhe’ in the ‘Briefkasten’ was adopted at our meeting May 3. It
 was to be used as a signal word. If it should appear the next day in
 the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_, then every man was to be ready with his arms
 or guns; that then the riot would commence, and they should watch for
 the signal. ‘Right and fest’ were passwords for the armed men should
 there be any fighting at McCormick’s. With the signal they should all
 come out with their bombs and arms, no matter whether it happened in
 the day or in the night. They should attack the armed officers of the
 law and the State militia. All of us armed men thought at one time
 that the police would not fight us, because they were all married
 men, and if they should fight us they would not do it so very hard.
 The plan was to call out a meeting first and have no speakers there.
 The police would then come and drive us away. They then should fire
 on the police. There were a lot of armed people at the meeting, I
 know. But the police did not interfere, so they got speakers at the
 meeting. Finally the police came out, and the mob did what they had
 agreed to do. Afterwards fault was found, and they said the North
 Siders were cowards. When Spies and others were arrested, the armed
 men all said that, should anything happen to those men, there would be
 a riot. In reference to the report about the shooting of six of our
 men at McCormick’s factory, I will say that what I saw and read in
 that circular calling for revenge made me mad at the officers. At that
 meeting Engel called on us to take revenge on the police officers,
 because they had killed six of our men. There were about seventy-five
 of us, so far as I know, on the North Side, to do the work on Tuesday
 night, May 4, and Lingg was mad because there were no more men coming
 after bombs. At Neff’s Hall Tuesday night, May 4, we all looked to
 Lingg as a leader of the North Siders. I know of no one else who could
 make bombs. Some one found fault with Lingg at Neff’s Hall on Tuesday
 night because he came so late with his bombs. Then Lingg asked why
 they had not come after the bombs. They all knew, he said, where he
 lived. Lingg was very angry. Schablinsky lives near me, and he got
 bombs from him. There were about nineteen men in the vicinity of the
 Chicago Avenue Station on the night of May 4, to attack the station
 when the police should come out on the wagons to answer a call from
 the West Side Haymarket. The men, seeing all this, lost their courage
 because the police, they said, passed them so quick, and then they
 said to one another, ‘Why should we attack and lose our own lives
 for the sake of others?’ When the wagon was gone, they saw lots of
 officers coming on foot to the station. Then the men went away. The
 North Siders, the armed men, were to meet in Neff’s Hall May 4, in the
 afternoon. I was at Thalia Hall, Northwest Side, where the Lehr und
 Wehr Verein met, on Wednesday, May 5, in the forenoon. I saw Fischer,
 and he said Spies and others had been arrested. I always knew that
 Fischer was one of the leaders in this affair—the riot. Fischer said
 the riot was a failure. It was botched, and nothing could be done any
 more. On Tuesday afternoon there was a tall young fellow at Lingg’s
 room about six o’clock. He had a smooth face and was about six feet
 tall. The tall man and Lingg were working at the bombs and dynamite.
 The tall man, I think, worked at Brunswick & Balke’s factory.”

The foregoing was read to Thielen and its correctness acknowledged
before Mr. Furthmann, the officers and myself, and his signature
is affixed to the margin of each sheet of the paper on which it is
written. Thielen’s stepson, William Schubert, confirmed the statement
of his father with reference to the dynamite bombs and the cigar-boxes
filled with dynamite, and added:

“I went under the house and dug a hole in the ground, and father and
myself put those things in the hole and then covered them up.”

ABOUT the time of Thielen’s arrest Officers Hoffman and Schuettler ran
across FRANZ LORENZ on North Avenue near Sedgwick Street, in the very
stronghold of Anarchy, and as the man seemed to be suffering from an
over-dose of Anarchy and liquor, they took him to the station. This
was on the 10th of May. He was a German, 48 years of age, and lived
with a man named Jaeger, at No. 31 Burling Street. He did not seem
to be known much in Socialist circles, and no one seemed specially
interested in him. He was locked up at the Larrabee Street Station, and
for four days he was as stupid as an owl. He would eat and drink very
little, but managed to sleep every day. On the sixth day he was taken
to the Chicago Avenue Station and remained there two days longer before
he recovered his normal condition. When brought into the office, he
told me that he had been drinking very hard, and, being asked for the
reason, he said that he had attended many Anarchist meetings, had heard
all the speeches and had learned that soon they would all have plenty
of money. Whenever such assurances were given, it always, he said,
made him feel so good that he would go and get one more drink. Between
speeches and drinks, he said, he had come near dying. He assured me
that if he was released he would go right to work and give Anarchy and
all meetings a wide berth. On being questioned as to his acquaintances,
he said he knew “all the boys”—the leading Anarchists—and had admired
them warmly.

“I heard Lingg speak,” said he, “and he is a good one. I tell you he is
a radical.”

“I suppose,” said I, “you took two drinks on his speech?”

“Yes, I took more than that,” replied Lorenz. “The last time I heard
Lingg speak in Zepf’s Hall, I went and got drunk. On May 4, I heard all
the boys speak on the wagon at the Haymarket, but I did not stay there
until it was over. I went into a saloon a block away from there and got
drunk in no time, and when I woke up the next morning I was in bed in
one of the cheap lodging-houses.”

Not knowing anything definite, he was released by the State’s Attorney,
and he has not since been heard from. He has probably retired to some
other city to renew his drunks at Anarchist headquarters on the free
beer usually provided.



CHAPTER XIV.

 Completing the Case—Looking for Lingg—The Bomb-maker’s Birth—Was
 he of Royal Blood?—A Romantic Family History—Lingg and his
 Mother—Captured Correspondence—A Desperate and Dangerous
 Character—Lingg Disappears—A Faint Trail Found—Looking for Express
 Wagon 1999—The Number that Cost the Fugitive his Life—A Desperado
 at Bay—Schuettler’s Death Grapple—Lingg in the Shackles—His
 Statement at the Station—The Transfer to the Jail—Lingg’s Love
 for Children—The Identity of his Sweetheart—An Interview with
 Hubner—His Confession—The Meeting at Neff’s Place


WITH the information already obtained we had managed to secure a
pretty clear insight into the diabolical plots of the “revolutionary
groups.” It was apparent that Chicago had been regarded by Anarchists
everywhere as the head center of Socialism in America, and that it had
been decided that here should be the first test of strength in the
establishment of the new social order. Any reasoning, sentient being
ought to have seen the utter folly of such an undertaking in the very
midst of millions of liberty-loving, law-abiding citizens, but these
Anarchists, hypnotized as they were by the plausible sophisms and the
inflammatory writings of unscrupulous men bent on notoriety, could view
it in no other light than as a grand stride towards their goal. As boys
are led astray by yellow-covered literature, these poor fools were
crazed by Anarchistic vaporings. Day or night, sleeping or waking, the
beauties of the new social order to be inaugurated by the revolution
were continually before their minds.

It was clear that such people were capable of desperate deeds, and that
it was not only necessary to bring to justice the instigators of the
massacre, but to show their deluded followers the inevitable result of
carrying out ideas repugnant to our free institutions and inconsistent
with common sense and right.

With so many facts before us, we redoubled our efforts to capture every
dangerous Anarchist leader in the city, and the next one to fall into
the toils was no less a personage than the bomb-maker, Louis Lingg.

This notorious Anarchist came to Chicago when about twenty-one years
of age. He had learned the carpenter’s trade in Germany, and when not
engaged in spreading Anarchy’s doctrines, he pursued that calling to
liquidate his board bills and personal expenses. He was a tall, lithe,
well-built, handsome fellow, and, while not of a nervous disposition,
his nature was so active and aggressive that he never appeared at
rest. Sleeping or waking, Anarchy and the most effective methods of
establishing it were uppermost in his thoughts. By reason of his very
restlessness it was not difficult to trace him in Socialistic circles
when on his tours of agitation, and it was noticeable, too, that he
never remained at any one point for any regular length of time. His
make-up was a queer combination of nerve, energy and push. His mind
seemed always weighted with some great burden. Perhaps there was a
reason for this not alone in his radical beliefs, but in his blood and
birth.

[Illustration: LOUIS LINGG, THE BOMB-MAKER.

From a Photograph taken by the Police.]

Louis Lingg was born in Schwetzingen, Germany, on the 9th day of
September, 1864, and, while his childhood was spent pleasantly enough,
a cloud gradually gathered which overshadowed his life and embittered
him against society. His mother, at the age of eighteen or twenty, had
worked as a servant, and, possessing a very handsome face, a shapely
figure and attractive manners, had caught the eye of a Hessian soldier
in the dragoons. This man was young, dashing and handsome, and mutual
admiration soon ripened into undue intimacy. One day the soldier left
town on short notice—whether because of military orders or through
his own inclination is not known. It is certain, however, that she
never heard of him from that day, and that a son was born to her out of
wedlock. That son was Louis Lingg. The name of that dragoon has never
been made public, but it is believed with reason that Lingg was born of
royal blood.

Several years after her escapade the mother wedded a lumber-worker
named Link. Louis was then four years old. When young Lingg had
arrived at the age of twelve, his foster-father, while engaged in his
occupation of floating logs down the river Main, contracted heart
disease, through over-exposure, and died. The widow was left in poor
circumstances, and she was obliged to do washing and ironing in order
to support herself and family, a daughter named Elise having been born
since her marriage.

Louis, in the course of years, grew strong, robust and muscular. He
had received a fair education, and, desiring to relieve his mother’s
burdens as much as possible, he learned the carpenter’s trade under the
tutelage of a man named Louis Wuermell in Mannheim. He remained there
until May 13, 1879, and then, quitting his apprenticeship, proceeded
to Kehl, on the Rhine. There he found employment with a man named
Schmidt until the fall of 1882. He next went to Freiburg, in the Grand
Duchy of Baden, where he worked for several contractors. At this place
he began to change his employment frequently, and his mother, learning
of it, wrote several letters, in which she advised him against such a
course and admonished him to become a good man, to save his money and
keep out of bad company, so that he might become useful to himself and
to society and make her proud of him. But the son did not heed this
motherly advice. He fell in with free-thinkers who were set against
religion in particular and against society in general, and soon began
reading and absorbing Socialistic literature. It was not long before he
became an avowed Socialist, attending Socialistic meetings and eagerly
listening to all the speeches.

[Illustration: LINGG’S TRUNK.

From a Photograph.]

Finally young Lingg grew weary of Baden and wandered to the republic of
Switzerland. Here he spent the fall of 1883 at Luzerne, working at his
trade with a man named Rickley, but his roving nature soon brought him
to Zurich.

It was there that he met the famous Anarchist Reinsdorf, and for this
man he speedily formed a warm attachment. While in Zurich Lingg also
affiliated with a German Socialistic society called “Eintracht,” and
threw his whole soul into the cause. After a time he turned up at
Aarau, but here he was unable to find employment and had to write
home for assistance. The mother loved her son dearly, despite his
wanderings, and he did not appeal to her in vain. She wrote him
enclosing a small sum of money to help him bridge over his idleness,
and at the same time informed him that she had again married (August
6, 1884), her second husband’s name being Christian Gaddum. This man
had been a neighbor of the family at Mannheim for years. In writing to
her son, Mrs. Link indicated that the marriage was not prompted by love
or admiration, but came about on account of her feeble health and her
desire to secure support for herself and her daughter. Louis’ mother
had frequently expressed a wish that he visit home, but, as the boy had
now reached the age for military service under the German Government,
he concluded to remain away, and in casting about for a permanent
location he decided to emigrate to America. He presented the matter to
his mother. At first she opposed it, but finally gave her consent.
With what money he secured from his mother and from his friends, he
proceeded to Havre, France, in June, 1885, and boarded a steamer for
the United States.

After the wayward boy had left home, he and his mother corresponded
regularly. She always expressed deep solicitude for his welfare, and
when he was in financial distress she would write him: “Dear Louis, I
will share with you as long as I have a bite in the house.” All her
letters breathed encouragement; she sent money frequently, although at
times in need herself, and concluded invariably by giving good counsel
and urging Louis to write her soon and often. When Lingg had arrived in
the United States the fond mother wrote him that she would soon be able
to send him money enough to come home on a visit.

That Lingg had great love and affection for his mother is evidenced by
the fact that he had carefully preserved all her letters from the time
of his leaving home until he died a suicide’s death. From these letters
it appears also that Lingg had several lady admirers at home.

[Illustration: COILS OF FUSE.

Found in the secret bottom of Lingg’s Trunk.

From a Photograph.]

There were many expressions, such as “kindest regards” or “heartiest
respects,” conveyed to him by his mother on behalf of this or that
lady friend. Another fact made apparent by the letters was that there
was some great burden on his mind. It would seem that he had plied
his mother with many questions respecting his birth. That seemed a
dark spot in his life. He wanted a solution as well as satisfaction.
This worried the mother, but she always managed to give him some
consolation, saying she “would guard against everything” and have “all
things set right.” In one of her letters occurs the following:

 As regards your birth, it grieves me that you mention it. While
 you did not know it before, I will now say that you were born in
 Schwetzingen on the 9th day of September, 1864, at your grandfather’s
 house, and baptized. Where your father is I don’t know. My father
 did not want me to marry him because he did not desire me to follow
 him into Hessia, and as he had no real estate he could not marry me
 in Schwetzingen according to our laws. He left and went, I do not
 know where. If you want a certificate of birth you can get it at
 Schwetzingen any time. If you make a proper presentation everything
 will be all right, but don’t hold on six months.

The original of the above, which is in German and which was found in
Lingg’s trunk, had no signature. Another letter regarding his paternity
reads as follows, showing that Lingg’s mind had been sorely distressed
over the matter:

  MANNHEIM, June 29, 1884.

 _Dear Louis_:—You must have waited a long time for an answer. John
 said to Elise that I had not yet replied to your last letter. The
 officials of the court you cannot push. For my part I would have been
 better pleased if they had hurried up, because it would have saved
 you a great deal of time. But now I am glad that it has finally been
 accomplished. After a great deal of toil, I put myself out to go to
 Schwetzingen and see about the certificate of your birth. I know you
 will be glad and satisfied to learn that you carry the name of Lingg.
 This is better than to have children with two different names. He had
 you entered as a legitimate child before we got married. I think this
 was the best course, so that you will not worry and reproach me. Such
 a certificate of birth is no disgrace, and you can show it. I felt
 offended that you took no notice of the “confirmation.” Elise had
 everything nice. Her only wish was to receive some small token from
 Louis, which would have pleased her more than anything else. When she
 came from church, the first thing she asked for was as to a letter
 or card from you, but we had to be contented with the thought that
 perhaps you did not think of us. Now it is all past.... I was very
 much troubled that it has taken so long [to procure certificate], but
 I could not help it. I have kept my promise, and you cannot reproach
 me. Everything is all right, and we are all well and working. I
 hope to hear the same from you. It would not be so bad if you wrote
 oftener. I have had to do a great many things for you the last
 eighteen years, but with a mother you can do as you please—neglect
 her and never answer her letters.

The certificate sent him reads as follows:


CERTIFICATE OF BIRTH.

  No. 9,681.

 Ludwig Link, legitimate son of Philipp Friedrich Link and of Regina
 Von Hoefler, was born at Schwetzingen, on the ninth (9th) day of
 September, 1864. This is certified according to the records of the
 Evangelical Congregation of Schwetzingen.

  SCHWETZINGEN, May 24, 1884.

  [SEAL.]

  County Court: CLURICHT.

To the letter of Mrs. Link, given above, no signature appears, but that
is not strange. What seems more singular is that, whenever her letters
were signed, they closed with simply “Your Mother.” Another thing
appears from the above, and that is that at home Louis’ name was Link.
Other documents, some of them legal, also found in his trunk, show that
his name was formerly written Link. His name must have been changed
shortly before leaving Europe or just after reaching the United States.

It would seem that, with such a certificate, Lingg would have
been measurably happy, but the fact of his illegitimacy, despite
court records, rankled in his blood. The thought of it haunted
him continually, and no doubt it helped to make him in religion a
free-thinker, in theory a free-lover, and in practice an implacable
enemy of existing society. His mother’s letters showed that she wished
him to be a good man, and it was no fault of her early training that
he subsequently became an Anarchist. She still lives at the old place,
and when Lieut. Baus, of the Chicago police force, was on a visit to
Mannheim, some time ago, he called on her and found her very pleasant
and affable in her manner, with a strong, robust constitution, and
still a good-looking woman.

No sooner had Lingg reached Chicago than he looked up the haunts of
Socialists and Anarchists. He made their acquaintance, learned the
strength of the order in the city as well as in the United States, and
was highly gratified. At that time the organization was not only strong
in numbers, but it fairly “smelt to heaven” in its rankness of doctrine.

Lingg was not required to look around very hard for the haunts of
Anarchy, for a blind man could plainly see, feel and smell the disease
in the air. Lingg arrived here only eight or nine months before the
eventful 4th of May, but in that short time he succeeded in making
himself the most popular man in Anarchist circles. No one had created
such a _furore_ since 1872, when Socialism had its inception in the
city.

[Illustration: COMPOSITION BOMB.

Found in Lingg’s room, ready for use.]

The first organization to which Lingg attached himself was the
International Carpenters’ Union No. 1. Every member of this society
was a rabid Anarchist. All of them had supplied themselves with arms,
and a majority of them drilled in military tactics. Lingg had not been
connected with the organization long before he became a recognized
leader and made speeches that enthused them all. While young in years,
they recognized in him a worthy leader, and the fact that he had sat at
the very feet of Reinsdorf as a pupil elevated him in their estimation.
This distinction, added to his personal magnetism, made him the subject
for praise and comment, which pleased his vanity and spurred his
ambition.

Men longer in the service and more familiar with the local and
general phases of Anarchy at times reluctantly yielded to him where
points of policy were at stake. No committee was regarded as complete
without him, and this brought him in contact with August Spies and
Albert Parsons. He was often at the office of the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_,
which was the headquarters of the governing body, with reports and
suggestions, and by his admirable tact soon won their esteem and good
graces. He there also made the acquaintance of Fielden, Fischer,
Schnaubelt, Rau, Neebe, Schwab, and of some of the more noted women in
the Anarchist movement. He was frequently complimented for his work
and became quite a favorite with the ladies.

When Lingg first became actively identified with the party of
assassination and annihilation here, he was cautious and secretive.
He knew that secrecy in the old country was not only essential to
success, but absolutely requisite for self-preservation. He supposed
that the same sort of tactics prevailed here, but when he saw how bold,
aggressive and open were the utterances of the Anarchists in Chicago
and elsewhere, he came to believe that the government and the municipal
administration existed simply through their sufferance. At first,
whenever Lingg was doubtful on any point, he would seek knowledge and
inspiration from Spies, and it was through Spies that he gained his
information of the movement in the United States. They became firm
friends, and Lingg implicitly believed everything Spies told him, and
looked, as he informed the police officers, upon every line published
in the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ as absolutely true and correct. While not
able to read English, he regarded all papers printed in that language,
as well as in the German, not of the Socialistic faith, as published
for the benefit of capitalists and millionaires. They were all, in his
estimation, stupendous frauds, and existed simply because they printed
such lies as pleased the rich and those in power. Being a man of
sincere convictions and earnest zeal, Lingg won the confidence of his
confrères and always knew just what was going to be done and how it was
to be accomplished. He was a faithful ally and was invariably counted
upon to take a leading part in all the movements of the reds. How he
was regarded by his fellows in this respect is shown in the fact that
to him was intrusted the task of organizing the people of the Southwest
Side and directing their plans against the McCormick factory.

[Illustration: CAST-IRON AND LARGE GAS-PIPE BOMBS.

From Photographs.

The long bomb in center weighs five lbs., and was thrown at a patrol
wagon on Blue Island Avenue, but failed to explode. The round bombs
were lined on the inside with a coating of cement saturated with a
deadly poison.]

His communications, which I have given in a prior chapter, to the
Bohemians and others in that locality, show that he was bent on riot
and destruction, and in that mad and frenzied movement he had the
hearty coöperation of the colleagues who had with him concocted it at
the office of the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_. They alone knew of it, and worked
out the details at a meeting held near the factory on the 3d of May.
Lingg, being braver and more daring than the other leaders, was the
chosen instrument to inspire the men to an attack upon the works, and
he subsequently claimed that he had been clubbed by the police during
the affray.

During the turbulent and momentous days preceding May 4, Lingg’s
comrades saddled upon him a great responsibility, but he never
flinched. On the contrary, he proved the mettle of his make-up, not
only volunteering to carry out certain ends he himself outlined, but
cheerfully assuming every task imposed upon him and always willing to
take all responsibility for the consequences. He was found on the North
Side actively engaged in calling Anarchists to arms, on the Southwest
Side endeavoring to form a compact body of fighters in view of the near
approach of May 1; he was busy at Seliger’s house constructing bombs,
and at meetings giving instructions how to make infernal machines. His
work was never finished, and never neglected. At one time he taught his
followers how to handle the bombs so that they would not explode in
their hands, and showed the time and distance for throwing the missiles
with deadly effect; at another he drilled those who were to do the
throwing, instructing them how to surround themselves with friends so
that detection by an enemy would be impossible.

[Illustration: GAS-PIPE BOMBS.

Found in Lingg’s Room. From a Photograph.]

All these things kept him busy, but his whole soul was in the work. He
was not alone a bomb-maker; he also constituted himself an agent to
sell arms. He sold a great many large revolvers and rifles. This is
shown by a note found in his trunk, addressed to Abraham Hermann. It
reads as follows:

 _Friend_:—I sold three revolvers during the last two days, and I will
 sell three more to-day (Wednesday). I sell them from $6.00 to $7.80
 apiece.

  Respectfully and best regards,
  L. LINGG.

At this time Hermann was the general agent in this city for buying and
selling arms to the Anarchists. Engel had been an agent at one time,
but the men claimed that he had fleeced them, and he was dropped.

Lingg thus proved himself a very useful man to the order. He could make
an effective speech; he was a good organizer; he could make bombs with
dynamite whose power had been enhanced manifold through his skill;
he would carry hand-bills, and he would do anything to help along the
cause. In truth, he was the shiftiest as well as the most dangerous
Anarchist in all Chicago.

[Illustration: GAS-PIPE BOMBS, WITHOUT FUSE.

Found in Lingg’s Room.]

Having been a pupil of Reinsdorf, Lingg was an opponent of all
peaceable agitation. He believed in organizing armed forces and
conquering everything by main force. He had no love at all for those
who talked peaceable agitation; he called them fools and cranks. Of
this class were the old-time Socialists, and he looked upon them with
haughty disdain. He found better material to work on for helping him in
the revolution he proposed, and, although he molded many an Anarchist
out of the softer clay of humanity, still he was not satisfied, but
complained continually that they did not move fast enough, did not take
hold with celerity and failed to develop such heroic qualities as he
wished to see. The restless spirit within him, his implacable hatred
of society, tinged with the bitterness of his doubtful birth, and his
strong impulses manifested themselves in all his acts and utterances.
An illustration of these traits is the impatience he exhibited over the
failure of trusted men to come early to the house of Seliger to secure
bombs on the evening of May 4, and his departure with the bombs to
Neff’s Hall to have them speedily distributed. Another example is found
in the bitter reproaches he heaped on those who had failed to carry out
their part after the inauguration of the Haymarket riot. His hopes, his
ambitions, had been set on the successful consummation of that plot. It
was to have overthrown all government and all law, which he declared
were good enough for old women to prevent them from quarreling, but
needless for men of intelligence and independence.

For four weeks prior to the 4th of May he was out of work, but he
was by no means idle. He worked early and late attending meetings
and making bombs, so that, the moment the signal for the general
revolution was given, every member of the armed sections might be
supplied with the destructive agent. He wanted the whole city blown
up, every capitalist wiped off the face of the earth; and he and his
trusted comrades, Sunday after Sunday, in anticipation of the uprising,
practiced in the suburbs with rifles and 44-caliber revolvers.
Lingg became the most expert of them all and was looked upon by his
associates as a crack shot.

Lingg’s money and time were freely given to the purchase of arms and
to the manufacture of dynamite bombs. His room at Seliger’s became
a veritable arsenal, and, the more deadly “stuff” he brought into
the house, the more pleased he became, and the more bitter grew the
enmity of Mrs. Seliger toward him. How careful and elaborate were
his preparations for the coming day is not only shown by the deadly
implements found in his room, but is evidenced in the statements of
his trusted lieutenants. These statements—made to me by men anxious
to save themselves, prostrate suppliants for mercy, whose every
material revelation was corroborative of the others, although given
independently and under different circumstances and without knowledge
of what others had said—unmistakably pointed to a most gigantic
conspiracy. Read any of these statements, and no doubt can exist that,
had it not been for the hand of Providence on the night of May 4,
thousands of people would have been killed and vast districts of the
city laid waste. Lingg expected it as certainly as he believed in his
own existence at the time, and his intimate comrades bent all their
energy in the direction of carrying out the villainous plot.

[Illustration: UNFINISHED GAS-PIPE BOMBS.

Found in Lingg’s Dinner-Box. From a Photograph.]

But “the best laid plans of mice and men gang aft agley,” and the
Haymarket riot proved a most bitter disappointment. Lingg was fairly
beside himself with chagrin and mortification. The one consuming desire
of his life had utterly and signally failed of realization. He clearly
foresaw dire trouble in consequence of the attempt, and his mind was
bewildered with perplexities as to his future movements. On the night
of May 4, about 11:30 o’clock, when the full truth of the failure of
the riot had flashed upon him, he stood in front of No. 58 Clybourn
Avenue, not knowing exactly whither to turn for refuge from possible
arrest, and, while in this dilemma, he broached the subject to Seliger,
finally asking to be permitted to remain at the house over night until
next morning, when he promised he would move away. He was without a
cent in his pocket, having squandered all his money in the manufacture
of bombs, confident of plenty when he and his fellows had secured
control of the city. Seliger, knowing his condition, finally consented.

The next morning came, but Lingg manifested no disposition to carry out
his promise.

“I would move from here now,” said he, very adroitly, “but if I do so
it would create suspicion.”

Seliger saw the force of the argument, and, being implicated also in
the manufacture of bombs, shrewdly concluded to let him remain until
matters quieted down. Lingg accordingly remained until the 7th of May.
On this date officers began to appear in the vicinity, looking into
the haunts and resorts of Anarchists. This startled Lingg, and, lest
they might pounce down upon his room, he decided to speedily vacate the
premises. He did move, but with such haste that he left his implements
of destruction and nearly all his personal effects behind him. When the
house was finally searched the “bird had flown.”

I sent out eight good detectives, and kept them working night and day
looking for the bomb-maker, but no one could furnish a clue. It was
learned that Lingg had a sweetheart, and her movements were closely
watched. The houses of his known friends were also watched, and all his
acquaintances shadowed. Anarchists who had hopes of saving their own
necks if he could be found were pressed into the service, and decoy
letters were sent out. Money was even held out as an inducement to
divulge his hiding-place, but all to no purpose.

These expedients were kept up until the 13th of May, when I sent for
Mrs. Seliger to ascertain where Lingg had last been employed and secure
the addresses of all his friends. Nearly all the places she mentioned
had been visited, but she spoke of one place that seemed to me to hold
out some promise of a successful result. Mrs. Seliger stated that there
was a place near the river, where there was a bridge that she had heard
spoken of, and that Lingg had said to her husband that he would call
on a friend of his near that place, on Canal Street. This place I at
once recognized as being only a few blocks from the shop where Lingg
had worked. Mrs. Seliger further stated that her husband had told her
that this shop was only a few blocks from a Catholic church. All this
I regarded as a good clue, and Officers Loewenstein and Schuettler
were promptly detailed to follow it up—first going, however, to a
planing-mill on Twelfth and South Clark Streets to ascertain if Lingg
had ever worked there.

The officers carried out these instructions, and a few hours later they
returned to the office, their faces wreathed in smiles. They informed
me that they had secured a clue, that only a few days before Lingg had
sent there for his tool chest, and that they had learned of a man who
had noticed the number of the express wagon that had carted it away.
But this man, they said, they would be unable to see until the next day.

Bright and early the next morning the officers started out with new
instructions and visited the house of the person who had so singularly
taken note of the express number. They found him, and he gave them all
the information he possessed. About eleven o’clock the officers found
the residence of the expressman, whose name was Charles Keperson and
whose wagon was numbered 1,999. He lived at No. 1095 Robey Street. The
officers rapped on the door, and a little girl about ten years of age
answered. On being asked after her father she informed them that he was
not at home. They inquired if her father had not brought in a trunk.
She replied that her father had brought no trunk into their house, but
he had hauled a tool chest from down town, which he had taken to a
house on an adjoining street. She pointed out a little cottage at No.
80 Ambrose Street, and on being asked if she had seen her father take
it there she answered:

“Oh, yes, it was a gray-colored box, and I heard my father say it
belonged to Louis Lingg.”

[Illustration: LINGG’S REVOLVER.

Cocked as found when wrested from Lingg’s hands after the struggle with
Officer Schuettler.

From a Photograph.]

The officers went over to the cottage and learned that a family named
Klein lived there. Schuettler knocked on the door, and Mrs. Klein
responded. He asked if Louis was at home. She replied that he was not
and that he had gone out with some gentlemen about nine o’clock. She
inquired what he desired to see Louis for, and Schuettler told her
that he owed Louis $3 and had come to pay him. He further informed
her that they were good friends, both carpenters, and belonged to the
same union. She inquired after his name, and Schuettler responded
that it was “Franz Lorenz.” Lorenz was a well known Anarchist, and
it was thought the name would prove effective in winning the woman’s
confidence. She said that her father lived only a short distance from
the house, and she would step over and ask him if he knew where Louis
had gone. This conversation had taken place in a rear room of the
house. The woman excused herself, and ostensibly started for the house
of her father. She passed into the front room and slammed the outer
door. Loewenstein stepped out of the back room to see if she had really
gone, but he saw no Mrs. Klein. At the same time he noticed Lingg’s
chest standing on the rear porch, covered with a piece of carpet.
Loewenstein returned, and he had hardly joined Schuettler when Mrs.
Klein stepped in. She said she had seen her father, but that he did not
know where Louis had gone. The officers were suspicious, of course,
but they said nothing, simply withdrawing with the assurance that they
would call again and see Lingg some other time.

After leaving, the officers walked for two blocks and talked over
the mysterious actions of Mrs. Klein. They concluded to go back and
search the house. They secured entrance from the rear, and, while
Loewenstein guarded the front door, Schuettler entered the rear room.
There he found a man smoothly shaven. Lingg had been described as
having chin whiskers. Schuettler stepped up to the man, however, and
asked his name. In an instant Lingg—for it was none other—whipped out
a 44-caliber revolver, which he had had concealed in front inside his
trousers, and, with the glare of a tiger held at bay, he turned on the
officer. Schuettler saw the movement, and, quick as a flash, sprang
on Lingg and seized the weapon. They clinched, and while the one was
struggling to save himself and secure his prisoner, the other was
bent upon killing the officer and effecting his own escape. Both were
strong, muscular and active, and the cottage shook from foundation to
rafters as the bodies of the contestants swayed in the equal contest.
Lingg quivered with rage and aroused himself to his utmost to vanquish
the foe. He realized that the result meant life or death. At one moment
his revolver was pressed close to the officer’s breast, and with a
superhuman effort the Anarchist tried to send a bullet on its fatal
mission. But Schuettler had a firm grasp of the cylinder and wrenched
the weapon aside. In another second, while the mastery was still
undecided, Lingg, by a quick movement of his hand, brought the revolver
square into the officer’s face. At that moment, however, Schuettler
managed to get Lingg’s thumb between his teeth. The Anarchist made a
sudden dash to release his thumb and succeeded in breaking loose.

All this took place in less time than it takes to tell it. The moment
Lingg was foot-loose, Schuettler found time to shout for his companion,
who had stood on the outside in front of the house, all unconscious
of the short but desperate struggle within. Loewenstein did not stop
a moment to determine what was wanted, but sprang into the room. He
entered just at the moment when Schuettler had bounded after Lingg
on his release and found him holding Lingg tightly by the throat
with one hand and the revolver with the other. Loewenstein saw the
situation at a glance, and, raising his loaded cane, brought it down
on the Anarchist’s head. This stunned Lingg, and he was overpowered.
The revolver was wrenched from his hand and placed on a table, and
the officers adjusted the handcuffs. These had no sooner been placed
in position than Lingg made a sudden dash for his revolver. But the
detectives were too quick for him.

Lingg’s teeth gnashed with rage, and his eyes fairly bulged from their
sockets with savage scorn. The arch-Anarchist looked the picture of
desperation. He had been vanquished, however, and he saw that further
resistance was useless.

Mrs. Klein had meanwhile been an excited spectator, but before she
could collect her thoughts and decide what course to take under the
circumstances, Lingg was in the power of the law. Seeing this, she
hurried out. It was not long before the whole neighborhood heard of
what had happened, and, as the officers started to take their prisoner
to the Hinman Street Station, a true-hearted Irish-American came up,
accosted them and said:

“My dear boys, your lives are in danger here. Nearly every one who
lives about here is an Anarchist. Wait for a minute, and I will give
you protection.”

[Illustration: A DESPERATE STRUGGLE. LOUIS LINGG’S ARREST.]

He disappeared, but meanwhile the street had become crowded with an
excited populace. He soon returned with a double-barreled shot-gun,
ready for action in case of emergency. No sooner had he placed himself
at the disposal of the officers than a loyal Bohemian-American came
running across the street, and said:

“Officers, I will also protect you against this mob.”

He had in his hand a large navy revolver, and he showed that he was
ready to assist the officers, even at the cost of his own life.

Schuettler and Loewenstein, under this volunteer escort, marched Lingg
to the Hinman Street Station, reaching there about twelve o’clock.
Sergeant Enwright was in charge of the station that day, and, lest
any attempt at rescue might be made, he called in all his officers
and gave them instructions as to what should be done to protect the
station. He also ordered out the patrol wagon, and detailed five
officers to accompany Schuettler and Loewenstein to the Klein residence
to investigate the premises. They made a thorough search, but could
discover nothing except a lot of cartridges. They also investigated
the houses at Nos. 64, 66, 68 and 70 on the same street, all occupied
by Anarchists, but they found nothing. The presence of the police,
however, speedily cleared the street, and all the low-browed,
shaggy-haired followers of the red flag hunted their holes. Schuettler
and Loewenstein then sent for the Chicago Avenue patrol wagon and
transferred Lingg to new quarters at that station. On the way Lingg
continually ground his teeth, and, looking savagely at Schuettler and
turning slightly towards Loewenstein, hissed out:

“If I had only got half a chance at that fellow, he would be a dead man
now.”

The officers of the Hinman Street Station did not relax their vigilance
over Ambrose Street, and one day some molds made of clay were found in
the alley in the rear of the Klein residence, proving that Lingg had
not abandoned hope, but was getting ready to prepare a new supply of
bombs for a future attack.

When Lingg had been ushered into the office of the East Chicago Avenue
Station, the shackles were removed from his wrists, and he was given a
chair. He became quiet in his new surroundings, and grudgingly answered
a few simple questions. His thumb giving him considerable pain, some
liniment was procured from a neighboring drug store, and the wound
dressed. He was then assigned to an apartment below, and left to his
own thoughts.

In the afternoon he was brought up to the office.

“What is your name?” I asked him.

“Lingg,” curtly replied the prisoner.

“Ah, yes; but how do you spell it?”

“L-i-n-gg,” came the spelling.

“Yes; but give us your full name.”

“It is Louis or Ludwig Lingg. I am twenty-one years and eight months
old.”

He was asked a great many questions. Some he refused to answer, and
others he answered promptly and with pleasure, especially when they
touched on killing capitalists and capitalistic editors, as he called
them. He had no use, he said, for these people, and thought that
if they could be taken away suddenly the world would be satisfied
and happy. He remarked that he did not blame the police very much,
because they were workingmen themselves, but there was one officer, he
said, that he perfectly despised. It was John Bonfield. If he could
have blown him to atoms, he thought, he might become reconciled to
a great many things as they then existed. He finally gave to me and
to Assistant State’s Attorney Furthmann, in the presence of Officers
Stift, Rehm, Loewenstein, Schuettler and Hoffman, a brief account of
himself and his movements, but he said that he would rather die than
give information against any one. He did not deny what others had
stated about him, but further he would not go. He was informed by Mr.
Furthmann how strict the law was against conspiracies, but the only
answer he vouchsafed was that the laws would not remain in force much
longer; that the working people would make laws to suit themselves,
and they would not allow any higher power to dictate to them. For
his own part, he could work and was willing to work, he said, but he
wanted his share of the profits. He thought the police had made fools
of themselves in the movement the Anarchists had inaugurated. If they
had only known enough, he said, to have held back, the capitalists
would have been forced to submit; but now the police had spoiled their
own chances for gain for years to come. They would be sorry for it, he
added. If the Anarchists had won in Chicago, he further stated, all the
other large cities would have fallen into line, and wretchedness and
poverty would have been banished forever.

[Illustration: IRON BOLT FOUND IN LINGG’S TRUNK. FROM A PHOTOGRAPH.

Designed, according to Lingg’s own statement, to connect the halves of
a composition bomb weighing twelve pounds. “The Haymarket bomb,” said
he, “killed six. The one which I was going to make with that bolt would
kill six dozen.” Four such bolts were found.]

After Lingg had been taken away from the Ambrose Street house, Gustav
and Kate Klein became anxious about their friend. They traced him to
the Chicago Avenue Station and called there later in the day, after
his arrest. When they reached the office I questioned them, although
they were not under arrest, and they answered without hesitancy. They
stated that Lingg had come to their house on the 7th of May, and had
remained indoors nearly all the time up to his arrest that day—May 14.
He had only been out twice to secure books from some neighbors, and he
had felt measurably safe in the locality. This section, it was found,
as already stated, was a hotbed of Anarchy, and as the neighbors knew
the man, they were anxious to protect him. It had even been whispered
in the locality that he was the one who had thrown the bomb at the
Haymarket, but, knowing that he was a man not to be trifled with, and
out of sympathy for the cause, none would betray him. He could not have
selected a better place for concealment. Mr. Klein had known him for
some time and had noticed a great change in him since the Haymarket
bloodshed.

“He was always cheerful,” he said, “up to that time, but since then he
acted very strangely. He would not converse with any one, but always
sought to be alone. Whenever any one came near the house he was uneasy.”

“I noticed that too,” interposed Mrs. Klein. “He always used to fool
and play with me before the Haymarket event, and was good company, but
since then he was a changed man altogether.”

Mrs. Klein described the scene of Lingg’s arrest, and told how at
first she had regarded it simply as fun between two friends, and how
frightened she had become when she discovered that it was a serious
affair. She also described the terrible look which came over Lingg’s
face when he found himself powerless to fire the revolver.

I subsequently thought it best to bring Lingg face to face with one
of his former comrades, who had furnished information about him, and
this was accordingly done. The moment he was brought into the presence
of the informer his face assumed a terrible scowl, but he remained
obstinately silent.

One day Lingg was again brought into the office, and I questioned him
as to the real strength of the Anarchists in the city and country.

He smiled and said:

“Don’t you know that yet? This I cannot answer, but I will tell you
that you only know the noisy fellows. The real Anarchists in this city
or country you do not know yet, because they are not ready to take
hold, but you will be taken by surprise unless you die soon. I only
hope that I will live long enough to see this hidden power show its
strength.”

During the time Lingg remained at the station his hand was regularly
attended to, he was treated very kindly, had plenty to eat, and
was made as comfortable as possible. All these attentions somewhat
mollified his bitterness against us.

Some time after the other interviews, I visited him and asked him if he
entertained any hostility towards the police. He replied that during
the McCormick factory riot he had been clubbed by an officer, but he
did not care so much for that. He could forget it all, but he did not
like Bonfield. If it had not been for Bonfield, he said, the street-car
men, in their strike in the summer of 1885, would have had things all
their own way, and that would have changed everything all over the city
in a business way.

“If I could only kill Bonfield,” he vehemently declared, “I would be
ready to die within five minutes afterwards.”

Lingg was a singular Anarchist. In every act and word he showed no care
for himself, but he always expressed sympathy for men who had families
and who were in trouble. He showed that he was a man with a will, and
that if he set his mind to the accomplishment of an end he would bend
all his energies to attain it.

There was another peculiarity about Lingg which distinguished him from
the rest of his associates. Although he drank beer, he never drank to
excess, and he frowned upon the use of bad or indecent language. He was
an admirer of the fair sex, and they reciprocated his admiration, his
manly form, handsome face and pleasing manners captivating all.

On the 27th of May, Lingg and Engel were taken in a patrol wagon to
the Harrison Street Station, where the “art gallery” of the Police
Department was kept, to have their photographs taken. On the way,
Loewenstein remarked to Lingg:

“Louis, you want to look your prettiest, so that you will make a good
picture.”

“What difference does it make whether a dead man’s picture looks good
or bad,” was the reply, uttered in a most serious manner and in a
strong tone of voice.

From the gallery the Anarchists were driven to the County Jail, and
that was the last time they ever saw the streets of Chicago or breathed
the air outside of prison walls.

From the day Lingg entered the jail he became surly and ugly to all the
officers, but he implicitly obeyed all prison rules. He held himself
aloof from everybody except his fellow Anarchists, and would have
nothing to say to any one except his friends or his sweetheart.

Lingg was very fond of children, and when those of Neebe, Schwab or
others called at the jail he would play with them and seemed to extract
much amusement from their little pranks and antics.

Mrs. Klein often visited him and always brought a baby, in which Lingg
seemed to take a special interest. Lingg and Mrs. Klein conversed
freely together, and he seemed to enjoy her visits greatly. Whenever
she called she brought him fruit of the season and choice edibles with
which to vary his prison fare.

Lingg and his associates proved quite a drawing card, and Anarchists
from all parts of the country called at the jail. But while his fellows
appeared pleased to hold receptions, so to speak, Lingg did not desire
the company of strangers. He gave his time only to the few ladies who
called on him and to his nearest friends. He disliked being gaped at by
curiosity-seekers, and when he had no good friend to keep him company
he traveled the corridors of the jail beyond the reach of public
gaze. He also whiled time away by cutting pretty little carvings
out of cigar-boxes with his jack-knife, and in this he displayed
considerable ingenuity. Tiring of this diversion, he would pick up a
book or a paper; but, however monotonous prison life at times became,
he never thrust himself before the visitors’ cage to pose before the
idle throng. Many callers came to sympathize with Lingg as well as to
admire his handsome physique, and, as he would not allow his hair to
be cut after his incarceration, his flowing, curly locks added to his
picturesque appearance.

[Illustration: LINGG’S SWEETHEART.

From a Photograph.]

But there was one visitor he always welcomed. It was his sweetheart,
whose acquaintance he had made before his arrest, and who became a
regular caller. She invariably wore a pleasant smile, breathed soft,
loving words into his ears through the wire screen that separated the
visitors’ cage from the jail corridor, and contributed much toward
keeping him cheerful. This girl had lived at one time with a family
on West Lake Street, in the heart of an Anarchist camp, but, for some
reason, while her lover was at the Chicago Avenue Station she never
paid him a visit. The second day after he had been locked up at the
County Jail she promptly made her appearance, however, and became a
regular visitor. She simply passed with the jail officials at first
as “Lingg’s girl,” but one day some one called her Ida Miller, and
thereafter she was recognized under that name. She was generally
accompanied by young Miss Engel, the daughter of Anarchist Engel, and
during the last four months of her lover’s incarceration she could be
seen every afternoon entering the jail. She was always readily admitted
until the day the bombs were found in Lingg’s cell. After that neither
she nor Mr. and Mrs. Klein were admitted. While it has never been
satisfactorily proven who it was that introduced the bombs into the
jail, it is likely that they were smuggled into Lingg’s hands by his
sweetheart. She enjoyed Lingg’s fullest confidence, and regarded his
every wish.

It is not known whether Miller is the real name of the girl, but it
is supposed to be Elise Friedel. She is a German, and was twenty-two
years of age at the time, her birthplace being Mannheim, which was
also Lingg’s native town. She was robust in appearance, with fair
complexion, and dark hair. She had quite a penchant for beer, and
could sit in a crowd of her Anarchist friends and drink “schnitts”
with the proficiency of a veteran. She always entertained hope of
executive clemency, but when Lingg died at his own hands she somewhat
surprisingly failed to evince great sorrow. Perhaps the consciousness
of having aided him in escaping the gallows had prepared her for the
worst.

Lingg’s terrible death did not perceptibly change her demeanor. She was
seen at several dances shortly afterwards, and seemed to enjoy herself
as much as anybody. She even danced with detectives, unconscious of
their calling, and, in jesting with them, her laugh was as hearty and
ringing as though she were bent on capturing a new beau.

During all the long, weary days Lingg remained in jail his demeanor
was the same as during the trial—cool, collected and unconcerned.
No special trouble apparently burdened his mind. His constant
companions—whenever they were permitted to be together—were Engel
and Fischer. They appeared to believe that their fellow prisoners and
co-conspirators would turn on them to save their own lives.

The statement Lingg made, on the 14th of May, omitting the part
pertaining to his occupation, age and residence, was as follows:

 “Whenever I did any work at home [Seliger’s house] I did it as
 carefully as possible, so that no one could see me. I did make
 dynamite bombs out of gas-pipe, and I generally found the gas-pipe on
 the street. Finding them two or three feet long, I would cut them into
 pieces. After cutting them about six inches long I would fill them
 with dynamite and attach a fuse to each. I then would call them bombs.”

 “Who showed or taught you how to make those bombs?”

 “No one. I learned it from books.”

 “What books?”

 “I read it in a book published by Herr Most of New York. It explains
 how to make dynamite and other articles used in war. I once had four
 bombs in my dinner-box—two were loaded and two empty. I bought two
 pounds of the stuff on Lake Street, near Dearborn. I also bought one
 coil of fuse and one box of caps at the same place, and that is all I
 bought. I paid 65 cents for the box of caps, 60 cents for two pounds
 of dynamite, and 50 cents for the coil of fuse.”

 “Did you work all the material into the bombs?”

 “No, there is some of it left in my trunk. I do not deny making bombs.
 I made them for the purpose of being used in a war or a revolution
 during these workingmen’s troubles. The bombs found in my room I
 intended to use myself. I have been at August Spies’ office several
 times, and I have known him for some time. I always received the
 _Arbeiter-Zeitung_, and I like to read it. I made some of those round
 lead bombs. I made the molds myself and cast the bombs. The iron
 bolts I used to connect and hold them together I bought in a hardware
 store. I bought five small ones and two big ones. I could only use
 the molds to cast bombs with a few times; then they would be useless.
 At the time I bought the dynamite I was alone. On Tuesday night, May
 4, Seliger and I were on Larrabee Street, between Clybourn Avenue and
 the city limits, and we remained there until about ten o’clock. We
 then went home and had several glasses of beer. We did not meet any
 one we knew. We were on Larrabee Street all the time. When we came
 home Mrs. Seliger was abed. I was at the meeting held in the hall at
 No. 71 West Lake Street, Monday night, May 3. I saw there the circular
 which called the workingmen to arms and to seek revenge on the police
 because they had killed six of our brothers at McCormick’s factory on
 that day. I also attended a meeting the same night, at No. 54 West
 Lake Street, which was held by the armed sections. I was out to Lake
 View and tried one of my dynamite bombs to find out what strength it
 had. I put the bomb in a tree between two limbs. I lit the fuse; the
 bomb exploded and split the tree, damaging it considerably. I had
 my hair cut, and mustache and whiskers shaven off, about May 8th or
 9th. I want to say right here to you men that I did make dynamite
 bombs and intended to use them.

[Illustration: CAN OF ENGLISH DYNAMITE AND LADLE.

Used by Lingg in Casting Bombs. From a Photograph.]

 I am down on capital and capitalists. I knew that if we sought our
 rights—I mean the workingmen—they would turn out the police and
 militia against us with their Gatling guns and cannon. We knew that we
 could not defend ourselves with our revolvers, and therefore turned
 to the adoption of dynamite. For one, I was not going to get hurt. I
 made bombs of lead and bombs of metal, and I made them with the two
 materials mixed. I tried both the lead and gas-pipe bombs, and I found
 that they could do good service. If you cut the fuse ten inches long
 and light it you can run away forty steps before the explosion takes
 place. The armed men of the so-called International Group of the North
 Side always met at Greif’s Hall, No. 54 West Lake Street. We used to
 go to the Shooting Park in Lake View and shoot at targets on Sundays.
 I have been there about ten times. I admit that the two Lehmans came
 to see me at my room at No. 442 Sedgwick Street, and I will confess
 that on Tuesday, May 4, six men came to my room to see me.”

At this interview there were present, besides myself, Furthmann, Stift,
Rehm, Loewenstein, Schuettler and Hoffman. On the 17th of May, Lingg
again remarked to Officer Schuettler that he regretted that he had not
had a chance to kill him.

On the 24th of May Lingg and Hubner were brought together, and
Assistant State’s Attorney Furthmann asked the latter if he knew the
bomb-maker.

“Oh, yes, I was at his room on Tuesday afternoon, May 4, helping him to
make dynamite bombs, and what I stated in my affidavit is true.”

Lingg scowled furiously, and emphatically denied the statement. All he
could be made to say in explanation of the affair, however, was that he
“had been a Socialist all his life and ever since he could think.”

ERNST HUBNER was arrested by Officers Schuettler and Whalen on the
morning of May 18, at six o’clock, while he was on his way to his
work. He is a German by birth and a carpenter by trade, and worked for
a man by the name of Schombel, on the corner of Clybourn Avenue and
Larrabee Street. He was about forty years of age, married, wore very
shabby clothes, and lived, at the time of his arrest, at No. 11 Mohawk
Street, in three small and dirty rooms. His house was searched, and the
officers found one breech-loading rifle, one large 44-caliber Remington
revolver and half a pailful of ammunition for both guns. While they
were searching the house, Mrs. Hubner, a sickly, delicate woman, said
to Officer Schuettler:

“My dear man, if my husband had gone more to his shop and to work
instead of running to meetings, you would not find my house in this
shape. I am all broken up. I am sick, and now he is arrested. I suppose
this is the last of our family.”

The search still going on, Mrs. Hubner crossed the room to a closet,
saying to Schuettler:

“Here, officers, take this devil’s print out of my house. This is what
my husband prayed with night and day, and what got him into trouble. If
you don’t want to take it, I will throw it into the stove. I don’t want
any more families made miserable by it.”

The officer opened the bundle, and the first thing he saw was a picture
of the burly face of John Most. This led to the exchange of a few
pleasantries between the officers.

“I have got him,” shouted Schuettler.

When Officer Whalen got a glimpse of the portrait, which was printed on
the cover of a pamphlet, and not knowing what the title on the cover
had reference to, as it was printed in German, or whom the picture
represented, he facetiously remarked:

“I see the face of a Scotch terrier.”

“You fool,” replied Schuettler, with a twinkle in his eye, “that is
Johann Most.”

“Well,” retorted Whalen, “if that is the great Anarchist, he ought to
have two more legs. He’d make a fine ratter.”

In the bundle were found a number of Communistic, Socialistic and
Anarchistic documents, and a complete collection of hand-bills of all
the meetings that had been held for years past. Hubner had been an
active worker at all times. He would post bills, carry hand-bills and
do any kind of work for the “good of the cause.” No meetings were ever
held too far from his home. He was well known in all the “groups” and
to all the leaders. He attended all the picnics and parades. Nothing
delighted him more than to carry the big banner belonging to the
International Carpenters’ Union No. 1. How he strutted and flaunted
that banner as he passed churches, police stations and the residences
of the wealthy. Next to Most’s book, that banner was his principal
source of inspiration. He would even neglect his meals for the sake of
bearing aloft that crimson standard. Whether this was the cause of his
emaciated look at the time of his arrest is problematical, but certain
it is his appearance, when brought before me, indicated want and
starvation, and his voice was weak and husky.

“From what I can hear about you,” I said, “it appears that you are one
of the ‘boys.’”

“Oh, well,” drawled Hubner, “you may hear a great deal.”

“Yes,” I replied, “I hear so much it keeps me busy thinking.”

“Have you been thinking any of me?” queried Hubner.

“I have, and I think you are the worst I have heard of yet.”

“Ah, but you have got others far more dangerous than I am.”

“If you want to give credit to any one else, name the parties.”

Hubner finally stated that only on the evening previous, at a meeting
of the Carpenters’ Union, a member had said that their attorneys,
Messrs. Salomon & Zeisler, held that there was no law to convict any
one, and that they would secure the release of the “boys” as fast as
the police locked them up. They advised all to “keep their mouths
shut,” and that, in the event of an arrest, the police could not hold
them longer than two days.

“Do you want to try that and see how it works?” I asked.

“That’s what I want,” responded Hubner, bent on an experiment.

“Well, I guarantee you,” said I smilingly, “that you will remain here
with us as long as we like your company. When we get tired of you we
will send you to the big jail. Officer, take this man and tell the
lockup-keeper that he will probably stay with us a week.”

Hubner was escorted down stairs, given a good cell and allowed to
metaphorically wrap “that banner” around him as he lay down to dream of
Anarchy. Things got monotonous, however. The very next day he sent word
that he desired to see me. He was brought up and made a long statement.
He assured me that every word was true, that he would face any of those
mentioned and defy them to contradict his assertions. He told the
day and date of almost every transaction. He said he would swear to
everything he had stated.

“I don’t believe in a God,” he added, “but when I swear, I understand
that if I should tell a lie or an untruth I can be punished for it. I
am disgusted with the way things are now. There are no more brave men.”

After a few days he was released by order of the State’s Attorney.
Before leaving, he promised that he would testify in court in
accordance with his statement, and afterwards, for a time, he was on
hand whenever sent for.

The parties arrested were required to report regularly. At the
commencement of the trial, they were all kept in a large room in the
station, where ten officers guarded them night and day. They were taken
out for exercise every evening, but were not allowed to talk to any
one. Their wives had the privilege of seeing them, but an officer was
always present to hear what was said.

Hubner after a time showed signs of weakening. He had been seen by the
attorneys for the defense and changed his mind. He also began talking
to others, urging them not to testify. He finally said he would not
take the stand, and, as he was not wanted to testify, he was again
released. After the trial he went back to his comrades, attended some
of their meetings and talked for the cause. When the time approached
for the execution, he suddenly left the city, and subsequently sent
for his family. He has returned to Chicago, however, and is working on
Division and Clark Streets, in a little carpenter-shop.

The following is his statement, to the correctness of which he would
have testified had he not been a poltroon and a simpleton. It fully
bears out the truth of the witnesses who appeared for the State during
the trial as to the conspiracy and the parties thereto:

 “I know Gottfried Waller. I belong to the armed men. I know George
 Engel. At one time he published a paper called the _Anarchist_. I
 know Louis Lingg. I was at Greif’s Hall, 54 West Lake Street, Monday
 afternoon about five o’clock. I left there at nine o’clock and got
 home at eleven the same night. I read and saw a circular that called
 for revenge and to arm ourselves. I saw August Spies in the hall,
 and he told us that the police had been shooting our workingmen at
 McCormick’s, and we should be ready with our arms. Then Rau came into
 the meeting, very much excited and said that a number of our people
 had been shot at McCormick’s by the police. He called us to arms. Then
 Rau and Spies left the hall together. Both were much excited. The
 speech and talking of Spies in the hall happened in this way. Spies
 would catch a man alone and talk about the shooting, or when he saw
 a crowd of four or five standing together he would talk to them to
 excite them and urge them on. The effect of his talking to us brought
 our temper to such heat that I and others were ready to take revenge
 on the police officers and the law. And we would have done almost
 anything to get revenge. If Spies and Rau had there and then started
 out and we had had our arms with us, we would have followed them to do
 harm at once.”

Such was the confession the brave Hubner first made to the police. On
the 18th of May he made a second statement, as follows, adding a few
further details as to the conspiracy:

 “On Tuesday, May 4, about 4 P.M., I went to the house of William
 Seliger, at 442 Sedgwick Street, and there I found William Seliger and
 Louis Lingg. I had been in Seliger’s house the day before, and I took
 along with me when I left three bombs—that is, three empty shells.
 Lingg also gave me the dynamite with which to fill them. Not knowing
 how, I was afraid to fill them, and I brought them back to Lingg to
 fill them for me. When I got there, Seliger and Lingg were working,
 filling bombs or shells with dynamite. I went to work and helped them
 and got the bombs ready for use. They had some of them filled when I
 got there, but in all they filled and finished twenty round lead or
 metal bombs and about fifteen or eighteen long ones—that is, I mean
 to say, made of gas-pipe, about six inches or more long. I saw there
 a lot more of dynamite and fuse. As I went away from there—Seliger’s
 house—that evening, I took along with me four long bombs, but before
 I left we had all the bombs finished, ready for use. I saw about
 six men at 5 P.M. in Seliger’s house, and when any one came Lingg
 always went to the door and waited upon them. That evening, May 4, at
 eight o’clock, I went to Neff’s Hall, 58 Clybourn Avenue, and when I
 had been there only a few minutes I saw Lingg, Seliger and a little
 stout man, who carried a heavy satchel with a gray cloth cover. They
 came in together in Neff’s Hall and placed the satchel in a little
 hallway leading to a ‘gents’ closet.’ I was sent to Neff’s Hall to
 see and report if there were many of our armed men in the hall who
 were waiting for bombs. As I had not been there long enough to find
 out and report back, Lingg and Seliger got tired of waiting at 442
 Sedgwick Street and brought the satchel filled with bombs to Neff’s
 Hall themselves. When Lingg saw me he came up to me and found fault
 with me for not reporting back sooner. He said there might have been
 lots of people there who failed to get bombs or shells. After that
 I went to supper, since Lingg was in the hall to look after things
 himself. The men I saw there were Hageman and Hermann. On Monday
 night, May 3, I was at Greif’s Hall, 54 West Lake Street, up to ten
 o’clock, and afterwards I also went into the saloon. There were about
 forty men sitting and standing around the bar-room. Someone called out
 that the so-called armed sections should go down into the basement,
 as there would be a meeting for them. Then forty of us went down, and
 we decided to hold a meeting there. This was about nine o’clock in
 the evening. Gottfried Waller was chosen president. George Engel was
 one of the speakers and originator of the plan then and there given
 to us to shoot and kill people and destroy property. He told us what
 to do and began in this way. He asked us if we knew about his plan.
 The majority said ‘no.’ Then he began to tell us that his plan was to
 call a meeting for the next evening at the Haymarket, and there draw
 out as many police as possible, so that the outside parts of the city
 would not be strongly protected by the police. The signal for action
 would be given, and they should set fire to buildings in several
 places and in all parts of the city. One building at Wicker Park
 was mentioned, and as soon as they saw it on fire, then they should
 attack the police stations, throw dynamite bombs into the stations,
 kill the police officers and destroy the stations. In case a patrol
 wagon came, they should throw a bomb among the policemen, and if that
 did not stop them, then they should kill the horses attached to the
 wagons with their revolvers or guns. After that they should destroy
 all the property they could. The circular that called for revenge and
 to arms I saw at the Monday night meeting in the basement, 54 West
 Lake Street, where Engel spoke and gave us the plan of revolution. The
 lying of Engel about the killing of six of our brothers at McCormick’s
 factory started me so that I was ready to do anything desperate. The
 speech of Engel in the basement that evening worked on me so that I
 went to Seliger’s house on Tuesday afternoon, May 4, and helped to
 finish the bombs, as I stated before. George Engel told those that
 had no arms to stay at home away from the Haymarket meeting, and that
 men who had arms but no courage should also stay at home. In that
 meeting there were present Adolph Fischer, Gottfried Waller, George
 Engel, Breitenfeld, Schnaubelt, John Thielen, Abraham Hermann, Herman
 Hageman, the two Lehmans and Hubner. Waller told us to go ahead and
 do our work, that he would be with us. The meeting lasted from nine
 o’clock to eleven.

 [Illustration: MUNTZENBERG PEDDLING BOMBS AND BOOKS.]

 Fischer and others agreed to have the circular printed calling the
 meeting at the Haymarket for Tuesday night, May 4. After all the plans
 had been explained to us Fischer said ‘That is the one’—meaning
 the murderous plan—‘that we adopted in our group meeting.’ Every
 division group were to make their own arrangements. The North Side
 armed men should meet Tuesday evening, May 4, at the foot of Webster
 Avenue and Lincoln Park, at the Schiller monument. I went there. I
 could not find enough of our people there, as the night was dark and
 those present were scattered. I got tired of waiting for others. The
 four bombs I had with me that night I took to the North Avenue Pier
 and threw them into the lake. Then I went home and went to bed. This
 was about ten o’clock. I did not hear anything of the shooting or the
 explosion of the bomb or the killing of the policemen at the Haymarket
 until the next morning when I got up. I went home so early on that
 evening because I had a headache from the smell of the dynamite
 used in filling the bombs. We filled thirty-five in all. The word
 ‘Ruhe’ was intended as the signal word. If it should appear in the
 _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ May 4, in the ‘Briefkasten,’ then that would be a
 notification to be ready for the revolution. We were to watch also for
 the fire and shooting signals as well as the appearance of that word
 in the paper. We were then all to get ready. I only know of Lingg as
 a manufacturer of bombs. The plan was presented to the men to go and
 blow up the Chicago Avenue Station. Also many others were to blow up
 the Larrabee Street Station and the Webster Avenue Station. The work
 I did on the bombs was drilling holes in them. This statement I make
 of my own free will and accord in the presence of the officers named,
 and it is true and correct. And I furthermore will say that I will
 not take any bribe to change my statement or make denials; neither
 will I leave the city or the State as long as this case is pending in
 court, unless I have the consent of Capt. Schaack; that I always will
 be ready to give testimony for the people, whenever I am called on
 in this case, and that I will never make a second statement, that is
 to say, to a notary public or a justice of the peace, in writing or
 verbally; that I will only make a statement under oath for the grand
 jury of the Criminal Court, or Capt. M. J. Schaack.”

Here follow the signature, etc., and the notarial acknowledgment.

On the 24th of May, Hubner, among other things, stated that he knew
Herman Muntzenberg.

 “I met him,” he said, “as I was carrying around hand-bills for the
 meeting called May 4 at the Haymarket. Muntzenberg went with me to
 Seliger’s house that afternoon. We saw Lingg and Seliger making the
 dynamite bombs, and we helped them to make them. Muntzenberg and I
 spent about three hours in Seliger’s house that afternoon. Muntzenberg
 was there when it was stated that the dynamite bombs should be carried
 down to Neff’s Hall, 58 Clybourn Avenue, that night. Muntzenberg and
 I, by order of Lingg, went down to Neff’s Hall to see how things
 looked there and report back to him. That is why Muntzenberg went
 to meet Lingg and Seliger to help them to carry the bombs to Neff’s
 place.”

Since the trial I have learned that Hubner knew a great deal more than
he divulged in his confession, and that he was one of the parties
chosen to aid in blowing up the Webster Avenue Station.



CHAPTER XV.

 Engel in the Toils—His Character and Rough Eloquence—Facing his
 Accusers—Waller’s Confession—The Work of the Lehr und Wehr Verein—A
 Dangerous Organization—The Romance of Conspiracy—Organization of the
 Armed Sections—Plans and Purposes—Rifles Bought in St. Louis—The
 Picnics at Sheffield—A Dynamite Drill—The Attack on McCormick’s—A
 Frightened Anarchist—Lehman in the Calaboose—Information from many
 Quarters—The Cost of Revolvers—Lorenz Hermann’s Story—Some Expert
 Lying.


ENOUGH was at this time known to make George Engel a mark for speedy
police attention. It had been established beyond a doubt that he was
one of the central figures in the conspiracy, and it was not long
before a warrant was secured charging him with murder. I detailed
Officers Stift and Whalen to serve the document, and they found him at
his home, No. 286 Milwaukee Avenue. He was a man about fifty years old,
stoutly built, round-shouldered, weighing about 170 pounds, and about
five feet eight inches in height. He was married and had a daughter
about sixteen years of age. He was by trade a painter, but he and his
wife conducted a toy-store at the place where they lived. In addition
to toys, they sold cigars and tobacco. The building he lived in was a
two-story frame, and his support came principally from his business.
He always claimed to be a very good friend of policemen, many of whom
he said he knew, and they all, he claimed, liked him. He was very
radical in his ideas, however, and at all times took an active interest
in Anarchist meetings. In fact, he was one of the most rabid of them
all. He was a successful organizer and a hard, persistent worker for
the cause. He was one of the most positive, determined speakers in
the German language in Chicago. He could hold a house all night, and
his auditors were always charmed with his ingenious argument, his
powerful invective and his captivating sophistry. He was well read on
all topics bearing upon Anarchy, had a wonderful memory, and he could
always promptly give a plausible “reason for the faith that was in
him.” His speeches were always plain, and, although he talked rapidly,
he spoke with a directness and force that took complete possession of
the illiterate and unthinking rabble. He could work up his auditors to
the point of desperation, and with a word he could have sent them out
to pillage and murder. It was his brain alone that evolved the gigantic
plan of murdering hundreds of people and laying waste thousands of
dollars’ worth of property in Chicago, and the fact that he found
so many willing to execute his purpose fully proved his power and
influence over his Anarchist followers. Like all rabid Anarchists,
he had no use for clergymen or the church, Sisters of Charity or
anything else that had a tinge of religion in it. He called them all
hypocrites and frauds. He was a great admirer of Louise Michel, the
French Anarchist, because of her fearlessness and courage, and he
never failed to bestow words of praise on Most, whose work he fairly
worshiped. The organs of the Anarchists in Chicago he did not think
radical enough, and so he ventured to publish a paper of his own called
the _Anarchist_, which, however, did not survive long. He was known as
an honest man in all his dealings with his fellow-men, earnest in his
convictions, but withal a most dangerous leader and most unrelenting
in his hatred of existing society, and thoroughly unscrupulous in the
methods to be used to bring about a change.

[Illustration: GEORGE ENGEL.

From a Photograph taken by the Police.]

Engel was always cool and collected, rarely exhibiting signs of
excitement. This fact was brought out most strikingly when the officers
found him at his home, on the 18th of May, at five o’clock, and
informed him that they had a warrant for his arrest on the charge of
murder. He was painting in his house at the time, and, turning to the
officers with a smile on his face, he nonchalantly remarked:

“Well, this is very strange.”

The officers then told him that I desired to see him immediately, and
he responded that if that was the case he supposed he must go with them.

When he arrived at the station he was informed again of the nature of
the charge against him, and the floor, so to speak, was accorded him
for any explanations he might desire to make.

“I am the most innocent man in the world,” he began, in a slow,
deliberate voice. “I could not hurt a child or see any one hurt.”

Engel was then subjected to some close questioning, and all he could be
made to say was this:

“On Monday, May 3, I was working for a friend of mine named Koch. I was
doing some painting for him that evening between the hours of eight and
nine o’clock. I then went to a meeting at Greif’s Hall, 54 West Lake
Street. The meeting was held in the basement. I don’t know Mr. Waller.
I do not belong to the Northwest Side group. I don’t belong to any
armed men. I don’t know of any plan or conspiracy. I did not give any
plan at that meeting. I was there at the meeting only a little while. I
did not speak there, nor had I anything to say to any one. I did not,
and was not authorized by any one to give a plan.”

He thus flatly contradicted every charge and seemed determined to put
a bold front upon the situation. Confronted by the facts, he never
winced, but kept up a bold exterior. He was then locked up at the
station. Subsequently his wife called and met him in my office.

“Papa, see what trouble you have got yourself into,” she sadly remarked.

“Mamma,” he responded, “I cannot help it. What is in me must come out.”

“Why,” I interposed, “don’t you stop that nonsense?”

[Illustration: MISS MARY ENGEL.

From a Photograph.]

“I know,” replied Engel, “I have promised my wife so many times that I
would stop it. But I cannot do it. I cannot help it that I am possessed
of some eloquence and enthusiasm. It is a curse to some people to be
possessed of this knowledge. I cannot help it that I am gifted in that
way. I am not the first man that has been locked up for this cause, but
I will bear it like a man. Louise Michel is a great woman. She has been
locked up and suffered for principle. I am willing to do the same.”

When Engel was asked where he had been on Tuesday evening, May 4, he
responded: “At home all night, lying on a lounge.”

Two days after Engel’s arrest I secured a statement—in addition to
that of Hubner—from Gottfried Waller, implicating the nervy Anarchist
in the conspiracy in connection with “the plan.”

I therefore thought it best to have Engel face his accuser, Waller,
and, on the evening of May 24, at 9:30 o’clock, the two men were
brought together in my office. Mr. Furthmann, who was present, with the
officers, asked Engel, the moment he was brought in, if he knew the
party before him. Engel, without the slightest hesitancy or tremor,
answered in the negative. He was next asked if he had not attended the
meeting at No. 54 West Lake Street, and Engel stated that he had come
in late during the proceedings.

Waller then reiterated his charge, that Engel was not only a speaker
on that occasion, but the man who had submitted a plan for murder and
destruction.

“In fact,” said Waller, “you were the only man who urged a revolution
and spoke about your plan.”

When questioned as to what he had to say to this, Engel retorted
that “it was not true,” as he had not been authorized by any one to
propose a plan. Inasmuch as the accusation of Waller failed to make
any perceptible impression on Engel’s mind, I decided to see how the
presence of another accuser would affect his deportment and answers.
Accordingly Ernst Hubner was asked if he would face Engel, and, an
answer being given firmly in the affirmative, Engel was again brought
back into the office. There were present at this, as well as at the
former interview, Furthmann, Whalen, Stift, Schuettler, Hoffman,
Loewenstein and Rehm. The moment Engel was brought up by an officer,
Assistant State’s Attorney Furthmann asked Hubner if he was acquainted
with Engel. Hubner replied, “Yes, I know him.”

Addressing Engel, I said:

“This is Ernst Hubner. He says that he knows you, and he also has made
a statement against you.”

Engel replied that he did not know the man, whereupon Hubner reiterated
his acquaintanceship, and added:

“Your name is Engel, and you keep a toy-store on Milwaukee Avenue. You
made speeches at 58 Clybourn Avenue. I saw and heard you several times.
I saw you in a meeting May 3, 9 P.M., at 54 West Lake Street.”

“Engel,” I interrupted, “listen, and I will read you what Hubner said
about you.”

Engel assented, and the statement of Hubner, as already given, was read.

“It is false,” replied Engel; “but if that good man says I did say so,
then you can believe him. I do not care.”

“Where did you see Engel last?” inquired Furthmann of Hubner.

“I saw him at the meeting held at Greif’s Hall, 54 West Lake Street,
where I heard him speak about the revenge circular and his plan, which
he said had been adopted by the Northwest Side group. He spoke of the
plan as I have heretofore explained in my affidavit to the officers.”

“You still say that that affidavit is true in every respect?”

“I do,” emphatically replied Hubner.

“It is not so, and it is not true,” stoutly replied Engel.

“Well,” said I, “there are other people, and we will have more, who
will prove that you did make a revolutionary speech and submitted
a plan calling on your people to get ready with their arms and do
violence. If other witnesses are produced, will you still have the same
answer to give?”

“It would not be true; it is not so,” reiterated Engel.

“But,” I added, “suppose I produce twenty more men who will accuse you
the same as Waller and Hubner have accused you, what then would you
have to say?”

“My answer,” responded Engel, “would be that I have never spoken as
charged against me. It is not true.”

Engel had evidently made up his mind to deny everything, and, knowing
his character for stubbornness, I made no further efforts to secure
a statement from him. A man who could originate such a cold-blooded
scheme as he had proposed—and part of it was actually carried out in
bloodshed—was evidently not the kind to yield, and I allowed him to
ruminate over his predicament in a cell below until the 27th of May,
when he was sent to the County Jail. As will subsequently appear,
he never showed signs of weakness during his incarceration from the
time he was taken from his house that night until he dropped from
the gallows, dying the hardest of them all. A half dozen such men at
a critical time could upset a whole city, and it was fortunate for
Chicago that there were not more like him during the troublous days of
1886.

[Illustration: GOTTFRIED WALLER.

From a Photograph.]

Some two days before Engel was brought in, GOTTFRIED WALLER was
arrested by Officer Whalen. It appeared that he had been selling
revolvers to workingmen, and after being taken to the station, on
the 14th of May, he was released on bail. His importance then as a
conspicuous figure in the Monday night meeting, when the murderous
“plan” was adopted, was not clearly apparent, but he was kept under
surveillance and his antecedents carefully inquired into. Thielen, in
his confession on the very day Waller was arrested, referred to him as
having presided at that meeting, and, in describing a man who called at
Lingg’s room on Tuesday afternoon, May 4, said he “believed he worked
at Brunswick & Balke’s factory.” Hubner, in his affidavit on the 18th
of May, stated that Waller had presided on the occasion referred to,
and had even urged them to go ahead and do their work, and he would
be with them—meaning their work of destruction. On these and other
facts a warrant was secured for his arrest for murder, and on the 20th
of May he was again taken into custody by Officers Whalen and Stift.
He was a Swiss by birth, a cabinet-maker by occupation, and worked
at the Brunswick, Balke & Collender billiard factory. His age at the
time of his arrest was thirty-six years, and he was a married man
with one child. At the time of his first arrest he was living at No.
590 Milwaukee Avenue, and at his second arrest he was found at No. 105
North Wells Street. He had been only three years in America, and had
scarcely settled in Chicago before he began attending the Anarchist
meetings. He always frequented the gatherings where Swiss people
assembled, and on a search being made of their meeting-place, 105 North
Wells Street, on the 7th of May, the police found twelve guns. It had
been the headquarters for the most dangerous element in the order,
and on Waller’s visiting the place after the trial of the Anarchists
a serious attempt was made on his life. He was called a spy, and was
pursued until he found safety under the shadow of the Chicago Avenue
Station. Several parties were afterwards arrested for this assault.
They subsequently threw a piece of iron through the window of the house
where Waller was stopping, but this was the last futile exhibition of
their rage.

In view of his testimony, which appears further on in the review of
the trial, Waller was given an unconditional release, and he has since
conducted himself as a peaceable citizen.

After his confession bearing directly on the principal parties in the
conspiracy, Waller wrote out his experience with the Lehr und Wehr
Verein in particular and his connection with Anarchy in general. His
story is as follows:

 “On the 25th of January, 1884, I arrived in Chicago from Easton,
 Pa. I lived sixteen months on Grove Avenue, Humboldt. I was never a
 Socialist or Anarchist. I understood very little of the former and
 nothing at all of the latter. After residing for a while at the place
 mentioned, I moved to Milwaukee Avenue, near No. 636, Thalia Hall, on
 that street. Here I noticed people uniformed and armed about twice
 a week. They would enter this hall, and, by making inquiries, I was
 informed that these people belonged to the second company of the Lehr
 und Wehr Verein and that they were a sort of ‘Schuetzen Verein,’
 which practiced twice a week in the North Chicago Schuetzen Park
 (Sharpshooters’ Park). Their principles were kept secret. As I was
 an expert sharpshooter and had a passion for military exercises, I
 accepted an invitation from their commander to participate in their
 practices. We met on the following Sunday at Thalia Hall, at five
 o’clock in the morning, and continued for some time. We dispersed
 by each going in different directions toward the park, so as not to
 arouse any suspicion. On account of cold weather only fourteen of us
 came together. It was no fun to walk knee-deep in the snow; still we
 were feeling good since we were going to practice shooting. After
 several rounds of drinks, which were called for in payment of the
 stand we used on such occasions, we erected two targets and commenced
 practicing. I soon noticed that the company consisted of good
 marksmen, and that day I was pronounced the best marksman among them.
 After that I wanted to become a member of the Verein, as I had been
 asked several times by some of them to join.

 [Illustration: UNDERGROUND RIFLE PRACTICE. A MEETING OF THE LEHR UND
 WEHR VEREIN.]

 I called at Thalia Hall one Monday evening and was taken to the
 cellar, which I entered through a secret door by means of a ladder.
 Here I saw thirty to thirty-five men practicing shooting at a target.
 The cellar was not well lighted except at the north end, where the
 targets stood. The people and all the surroundings looked quite
 adventurous to me. One of the members then approached me and asked
 if I was a Socialist. I answered, ‘Yes,’ in an off-hand way. The
 first sergeant of the company, August Krueger, told me beforehand to
 do this. I paid my initiation fee, got a red card numbered 19, by
 which number I was afterwards known, and I was then a member. All the
 members were very cautious before me on account of my not being well
 known to them. We practiced every Monday and Wednesday, drilling and
 shooting. I paid a great deal of attention to these exercises. I never
 missed a meeting, and consequently I soon gained the confidence of all
 the members.

 [Illustration: NUMBERED PLATES.

 From Lehr und Wehr Verein Rifles.

 From a Photograph.]

 “At the first general meeting, which was held every last Tuesday
 of each month, at No. 54 West Lake Street, I was enlightened, and
 how I was enlightened will appear as I proceed with my statement. I
 now desire first to speak of the Lehr und Wehr Verein. This society
 consists of four companies from various parts of the city, and forms
 a revolutionary military organization. The first company belongs to
 the North Side; second company, the Northwest Side; third company, the
 Southwest Side; and the fourth company was formed by the commander
 at Pullman. The first company was the strongest and consisted of
 about one hundred and twenty members. The second consisted of
 thirty-five members; the third about eighty; and the fourth, forty
 members. Consequently the battalion consisted of two hundred and
 seventy-five members. You could rely upon one hundred and eighty men;
 the others were more or less indifferent and passive. All the members
 were armed with Springfield rifles, 48-caliber, and with Remington
 revolvers, 44-caliber. Every member was well supplied with ammunition
 at his house, which was always purchased by the quartermaster of
 the company. The uniform consisted of a blouse, with white buttons,
 and with shoulder-straps for the officers, black leather belts with
 brass buckles inscribed L. W. V., dark pantaloons and black slouch
 hats. Every company had a captain, lieutenant and first sergeant.
 Besides these the company had the following officers: A corresponding
 secretary, financial secretary, treasurer, quartermaster, and a
 Lehr und Wehr auditor. The commander received a monthly salary of
 $15.00, and the financial secretary $4.00. The commander was Gustav
 Breitenfeld. Captain of the first company, Abraham Hermann; second
 company, Bernhard Schrader; third company, H. Betzel, and fourth
 company, Paul Pull. Under command of these people, the companies were
 drilled and instructed. The corresponding secretary attended to all
 the correspondence, domestic and foreign, which was not a very easy
 job, because we corresponded with the Internationale of the whole
 country. The financial secretary collected the dues, and turned them
 all over to myself as treasurer. The quartermaster, A. Hermann, had
 to supply arms and ammunition. The Lehr und Wehr auditor had to
 investigate all complaints and to impose all fines and collect the
 same. The meeting-place of the first company was at Mueller’s Hall,
 on North Avenue and Sedgwick Street, in basement; of the second
 company, at Thalia Hall, on Milwaukee Avenue; of the third company,
 at Vorwaerts Turn Hall, on West Twelfth Street, and of the fourth
 company, at Rosenheim, in Pullman. Another curiously mixed company
 also belonged to the Verein. It was commanded by Captain Betzel, of
 the third company, and it had nothing to do with us in a business way.

 “The whole battalion assembled once every month on pleasant days on
 the prairie behind the ice-houses of Schofield & Co., on the West
 Side, and practiced skirmish drills. The commands were given in
 English, and no one knew the members by name—only by numbers.

 “This brings me to the first general meeting of the Verein at No.
 54 West Lake Street that I attended. Before the opening of the
 meeting, every one who entered the hall was examined so that none
 but members might get in. The meetings would be called to order by
 the secretary, and then a chairman and a doorkeeper would be chosen.
 August Krause, of the second company, was generally called upon to
 officiate as chairman. First of all the correspondence would be read,
 and at one meeting a letter was read from Most, of New York, which
 pertained to arms. In the first meeting Commander Breitenfeld was
 ordered to proceed to Pullman every Sunday to work for the cause,
 and for his services he received a remuneration of $3 for each trip.
 The new company in that town finally reported a large increase of
 fine material with strong Anarchistic doctrines. The quartermaster,
 who then was Lehnert, was ordered to purchase forty rifles and four
 boxes of ammunition, each containing 4,000 rounds. The treasurer
 delivered to him $250, and afterwards we duly received the rifles
 from a firm in St. Louis. After all business had been transacted
 one of the eager members delivered a speech touching the best means
 of bringing on the social revolution. He proved very violent in his
 sentiments, and all present agreed with him that this revolution
 could only be accomplished with fire, powder, lead and dynamite. For
 a public attack on the streets of Chicago the speaker considered us
 too weak. As to the ‘property beasts,’ as he called the small owners
 of buildings, he regarded them as our biggest enemies, as they would
 attack us from their windows and defeat us, and consequently our only
 hope for a victory lay in the torch and dynamite. When Chicago would
 be surrounded by fire and destroyed, these ‘beasts,’ he said, would
 be obliged to take refuge on the prairies, and there it would be very
 easy for us to master them by our unmerciful proceedings. If this was
 done, other cities, like New York, St. Louis, Pittsburg, etc., would
 follow our example. Then all eyes would be centered on the Anarchists
 of Chicago, and therefore we would proclaim the Commune.

 “All these utterances were accepted with great applause, and every one
 wanted to commence immediately. I thought differently. I remembered
 the revolution of 1848 in Germany and that of 1871 in Paris and its
 consequences.

 “Krause, after this speech, took the floor and spoke in favor of the
 revolution. He stated that they ought to invite the Anarchists of
 other cities to join them here, and then we could commence the work
 of destruction. Then other members gave their views, and the meeting
 adjourned with an injunction that every one should be silent with
 reference to our proceedings.

 “This brings me to the revolutionary party. This organization consists
 of the following sections and groups: The Lehr und Wehr Verein,
 commander Breitenfeld; Northwest Side group, commanders Engel, Fischer
 and Grumm; North Side group, commanders Neebe, Lingg and Hermann;
 American group, commanders Spies, Parsons and Fielden; Karl Marx
 Group, commander Schilling; the Freiheit group; the armed sections
 of the International Carpenters’ Union and the Metal-workers’ Union.
 The whole party is under the leadership of a general committee.
 This committee is composed of Spies, Schwab, Parsons, Neebe, Rau,
 Hirschberger, Deusch and Belz. The committee held their meetings in
 one of the rooms of the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ and received weekly reports
 from the delegates of the various groups. A part of the monthly dues
 was delivered to the general committee, and all expenses for traveling
 at the instance of the agitation committee (Parsons and Schwab) and
 for arms were paid by the quartermaster.

 “On one occasion I attended a general meeting of the revolutionary
 party at No. 54 West Lake Street, at which the whole party of armed
 sections were represented. After all precautions had been taken as to
 safety, August Spies took the chair and Neebe acted as secretary. We
 had to produce our cards of membership on entering, and every group
 was called by name, and each representative had to rise in his seat
 for close inspection. The first business was a complaint from the
 Northwest group and the Lehr und Wehr Verein that the funds had been
 mismanaged and thrown away. Both organizations declared that they
 would withdraw their delegates and, after that, act independently.
 Spies became as furious as a snake when trodden upon, and he got up
 and told them that they might leave immediately. This started a war
 of words. Some retorted that the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ was not radical
 enough, and it must be made different from that moment. The members
 of the general committee were called impostors and loafers. The Lehr
 und Wehr Verein had paid some $75 for the purchase of arms, but they
 had neither seen the arms nor the money. Engel and the Northwest Side
 group were brought into the wrangle, and he was called a traitor. They
 said that Engel would bring the whole party to ruin, likewise the
 _Arbeiter-Zeitung_, but they (Engel and the paper) did not care so
 long as it enriched themselves. Finally the Northwest group withdrew,
 and some of the members of the Lehr und Wehr Verein shortly afterwards
 followed suit. From this time on there were constant disputes.

 “Engel and Grunewald collected money for a new paper and started the
 _Anarchist_, a paper like Most’s _Freiheit_ in New York. Shortly after
 these societies had left the hall, the fight was taken up again by
 some of the females who were present,—Mrs. Parsons, Mrs. Bolling,
 Mrs. Schwab and Mrs. Holmes,—and it was continued until Spies was
 declared out of order. Hirschberger then reported the result of the
 sale of revolutionary literature, such as the works of Louise Michel,
 Most’s ‘Revolutionary Warfare,’ etc., and he stated that it had
 exceeded his expectations. After this they discussed picnics, and a
 number desired them to be held outside of the city. Sheffield was
 suggested, because by going there they would bring in more money, and
 when there they could speak more freely their Anarchist sentiments.
 It was finally decided to hold a meeting of the workingmen on Market
 Square on Thanksgiving day, and Parsons was ordered to make the
 necessary arrangements. Spies called attention to the importance of
 every one attending that meeting, and urged that they should not come
 without a bomb or a revolver. The bombs, he said, they could purchase
 at the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ office, four for $1. The time was near,
 he said, when the long-looked-for revolution would take place, and
 so they should avail themselves of every opportunity. He wanted all
 Anarchists to work against the eight-hour movement, because if it
 should prove successful our movement would receive a set-back for
 several years. Our cause would not be hastened by it. He complained
 about our small gain in numbers and attributed it to the poor
 agitation of some of the members. After this I left the hall.

 “On the day before Thanksgiving we drilled in Thalia Hall. At the
 end of the exercise we were all requested to attend the meeting the
 following day, and Lehnert distributed some bombs in the shape of
 gas-pipe. He stated that he could only get four, but that on the next
 day at one o’clock every member could have one by calling at the hall.
 The next day most of the members put in an appearance. Members of the
 Northwest Side group also called. Adolph Fischer was there with a
 basketful of bombs like the one I saw the day before, which was the
 first time I had ever seen a bomb, and he told us distinctly to use
 them in case the Market Square meeting was dispersed. He cut a piece
 of fuse about the length of one on a bomb, put it on the table and
 lighted it with a cigar. He showed the way it worked and posted us as
 to the time it would have to burn before a bomb to which it might be
 attached should be thrown. He also showed us the way we should throw a
 bomb, and after this exhibition we all proceeded to the meeting.

 “On arriving at Market Square, I noticed a stage made out of barrels,
 with a red flag attached to it, and this was our meeting-place.
 Parsons mounted the platform and addressed the assemblage, which
 consisted of about a thousand people. It was a fortunate thing that
 the crowd was no larger, else the bloody bath of May 4 would have
 taken place that day, in view of all the preparations and the hostile
 feeling among us. The Northwest Side group was fully armed, and the
 preparations were alike complete among all the the other sections.
 Schwab, Fielden and Neebe were present, but none of them spoke. After
 they had waved the red flag the meeting adjourned. Bad, cold weather
 contributed to the small attendance.

 “After reading in the newspapers that on a certain Monday some of
 McCormick’s strikers would resume work, the armed groups were called
 to a meeting at Goercke’s Hall, on Twentieth Street and Blue Island
 Avenue. Reinhold Krueger and Tannenberg represented the second
 company of the Lehr und Wehr Verein, and I joined them on the way to
 the place of meeting. Arriving there, I found most of the different
 sections represented, and the meeting opened. Gustav Belz, of the
 Metal-workers’ Union, and employed at McCormick’s, was chairman,
 and after some discussion we concluded to stop the reopening of
 the factory by force. On account of the short time for a proper
 notification to our members, we decided to have our well-known signal,
 ‘Y, come Monday’ (which would mean that all was ripe for action,
 and our men should came to our regular meeting place, 54 West Lake
 Street), in the ‘Briefkasten’ of the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_, and it was
 accordingly done. We also at the meeting conferred with respect to
 having some of our men mix up with the ‘scabs’ by going to work with
 them in the factory, and then, when the moment for action arrived,
 they should set the factory on fire in several places. Those who were
 to do this were not to act, however, until they learned the result of
 the meeting that was to be held under the call of our signal, ‘Y.’
 During the same day, after the meeting, Belz and Tannenberg carried
 several bombs out to the Black Road. What happened the following
 Monday at the factory everybody knows. Strikers and others assembled
 by thousands. The great bell at the factory rang, and the ‘scabs’ went
 to work. During the day disturbances followed and many arrests were
 made of people who were found to have concealed weapons, and who were
 afterwards fined $10 in the Police Court.

 “But a change took place the following Tuesday. In accordance with the
 signal published in the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_, about 180 of our people
 gathered at No. 54 West Lake Street. Most of them carried their arms
 and some carried bombs. I saw Suess, and some others unknown to me,
 have bombs of the round pattern. These men even had their rifles with
 them, and everyone knew what was up. The several sections formed in
 platoons. Belz was elected chairman, and they consulted as to what
 should be done. First they regretted that the strikers had not reached
 McCormick’s that Monday morning, before the arrival of the police, in
 time to secure possession of the place, and then Betzel of the third
 company spoke and insisted that they should go around there during
 the night, secure good positions and then attack the patrol wagons as
 they passed on the following morning. He said he would give strict
 instructions to his company to obey his command, and then, when the
 police came to take their positions, they should be met with a good
 reception from well-aimed rifles. About fifty members wanted this plan
 carried out, but I noticed that most of them carried their hearts
 in their pants, and had very little courage. Excuses after excuses
 were made. Suess gave his bomb to a comrade and told him that when
 he thought of his wife and home he had doubts about going into an
 uncertain adventure. Balthasar Rau also protested against the plan.
 Some one suggested that they should stay there, in the hall, all
 night. Belz declared that he was of the same opinion about remaining;
 but, he said, he had a better plan to reach Mr. McCormick. It was
 very easy, he said, to attack this money baron in his own house. He
 described the house and rooms, and the location of the windows, and
 said that they should throw one of these ‘play balls’ in through the
 window of the room where McCormick would be sitting, and send him
 flying to heaven. This course should be taken by some one of those
 present, of his own accord, so that no second or third party would
 know the perpetrator. There seemed to be no response to this, and,
 noticing the want of enthusiasm, he grasped his rifle and made a
 motion to break it in two, calling them all at the same time cowards.
 He then left the hall. I was surprised at this, because among those
 assembled there were some of the worst Anarchists in the city, notably
 Lingg, Engel, Fischer and Grunewald. McCormick, however, is alive
 to-day. Rau notified those present that if any one wanted any bombs
 they should follow him to the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ office, and he would
 supply them. The meeting then adjourned.

 “After the experience I had thus had with the party, I was sorry
 that I ever joined. I found that what good humor I had formerly
 possessed had been completely wiped out by my associations with the
 revolutionary party. I wanted now to join some good society, and I
 thought of some good excuse for leaving the party. My opportunity
 came. My comrades wanted me to buy a supply of ammunition, as the
 1st of May was near at hand, but I found that there was not money
 enough in the treasury. The financial secretary had been very slow in
 delivering to me all the money he had collected, and I discovered that
 his love for the shining dollars was so great that he would let some
 of them fall through his fingers. I found out his dishonesty, and I
 brought it to light. On this account we became enemies, and sometimes
 he would rather have seen me dead than McCormick. One evening I
 stood in front of the bar at Thalia Hall with him just before
 target practice. I was talking about something not in his favor. We
 finally came to hot words and then to blows. I let him have a few
 right-handers, and he drew his revolver and fired one shot, the ball
 passing close to my right ear and striking the wall. The proprietor
 of the saloon took the revolver away from him, and he attacked me
 again with a rawhide [a billy], which he always carried. He struck me
 over the head, and I grabbed a chair and gave it to him savagely. He
 skipped out. Shortly after this I sent the money-box with Schrader
 to the Verein along with my written resignation. In that I explained
 that I did not want to associate with murderers and manslayers. It
 was accepted, and I was again a free man, rejecting every inducement
 except one to join their ranks again. This exception grew out of my
 own foolishness and happened when I attended the ill-fated meeting of
 May 2d.

[Illustration: “LIBERTY HALL,”

No. 63 Emma Street, where the Conspiracy “Plan” was first proposed by
Engel. From a Photograph.]

 “This meeting on May 2d was held on Emma Street. During the day,
 which was a pleasant one, I went out early for a walk. While I was
 absent some one called at my house and told my wife that I was wanted
 at No. 63 Emma Street that evening at ten o’clock. I returned home
 about 10:30 o’clock the same morning, and as I did not know the hall,
 nor knew the person who had notified my wife, I proceeded to the
 number given. This visit was a most unfortunate one for me. Entering
 the hall, I noticed the Northwest Side group and the second company
 of the Lehr und Wehr Verein. I was just on the point of leaving,
 when Schrader called me back, and, not liking to act like a coward,
 I remained. A person named Kistner acted as chairman. They wanted
 to admit a member who had been proposed by two members as true and
 faithful, but Engel objected, and the man had to leave the hall. They
 then proceeded to business, having first ascertained that the twenty
 or twenty-five persons present were in perfect security. Engel took
 the floor and sailed into the capitalists and the police. He said
 that they should, when an opportunity presented itself, imitate the
 Anarchist leaders when, at the Bohemian Turner Hall masquerade ball,
 they had thrown pepper in the eyes of policemen who were present to
 make an attack on the turners, and he explained how that assault on
 their part had come very near costing him his life. But he had done
 it for the good of the cause. He then spoke of the labor troubles and
 said that now was the time to produce the revolution. It was unwise to
 let it pass. Then he proceeded to outline a plan for it, saying that,
 if any one had a better one to suggest, to say so.”

Waller gives the details of the plan just as he gave it in court, and
continues:

 “I could not advise any one to speak against the motion for the
 adoption of the plan, as he would have been dealt with accordingly.
 Breitenfeld stated subsequently at Thalia Hall that he would do
 everything in his power to carry out this plan and that he would not
 work for the next few days, and that on the day given he would be at
 No. 54 West Lake Street to make all the arrangements.

 “What happened on Monday at McCormick’s is known. Spies hurried to
 write the ‘Revenge’ circular, stating that six men had been killed,
 and put it into circulation. That day I was at No. 105 Wells Street,
 where the workingmen employed in Brunswick & Balke’s factory held
 their meetings. I got home about six o’clock and had my supper, but I
 did not know then as to the conflict with the police at McCormick’s.
 I did not feel like going to the meeting called for that evening at
 No. 54 West Lake Street. I had hardly been home thirty minutes when
 Clermont, of the second company, entered my room and asked:

 “‘Did you hear the news?’

 “‘What?’ I asked.

 “‘From McCormick’s,’ he replied.

 “‘What then?’ I asked.

 “‘Ten men were killed by the police, and more than twenty wounded,’ he
 said. ‘Now we must commence.’

 “I did not believe it at first, but when he showed me the ‘Revenge’
 circular my blood shot up into my head and I went with him to the
 meeting. As we passed Engel’s house we met him and Fischer, and they
 joined us. On the way to the meeting, Engel said that if any one
 wanted to see him they should take the rear door and enter, as he
 thought the detectives were watching his house. Having arrived at the
 hall, Breitenfeld called the revolutionary men down to the cellar, and
 to my surprise I was elected chairman.”

Waller then details the business that was there transacted, the story
being identical with that he gave on the witness-stand, and alludes to
his visit to Engel’s house on his way to the Haymarket meeting on the
evening of May 4. He had been previously asked by A. Krueger, Kraemer,
and two others, who called at his own house while he was eating his
supper, to go with them to Wicker Park, as they wanted to be at their
post in response to the signal “Ruhe,” but he declined to go with them.
Waller continues:

 “I went to Engel’s. He was not at home, and we waited in a room behind
 the store. There were two others there, one a member of the Northwest
 Side group, and the other I did not know. The first one went away to
 get some pepper, as he said, and returned again in a few minutes....
 He said he was only waiting for the pills, meaning the bombs. I waited
 about five minutes, and during the time a young girl about ten or
 twelve years old put in an appearance, carrying a heavy parcel, which
 she handed to the man who had gone out for the pepper and who was
 waiting for ‘pills.’ I took the man to be her father. He disappeared
 behind a screen, and I walked out.”

Waller next gives the circumstances in connection with the Haymarket
meeting precisely as he gave them in court, and reverts back to the
meeting of Monday night at No. 54 Lake Street, referring to a speech
made on that occasion by Clermont. That man, Waller says, spoke
substantially as follows: “I expect to see about 20,000 or 25,000
people at the Haymarket. The speeches should be very threatening and
fierce so that the police will be compelled to disperse the meeting.
Then, when the police become engaged, we can carry out our purpose.”
Before this meeting came to order, Greif, the proprietor of the place,
was around lighting the lamps, and while doing so he remarked, says
Waller: “This is just the place for you conspirators.”

Among those expecting to do deeds of violence on the night of the
Haymarket, at Wicker Park, was “Big” Krueger, and Waller mentions the
fact that he met him the next day at noon.

“Krueger showed me a revolver,” says Waller, “and I told him that he
had better leave it at home. He replied that he would not do it, as he
intended to kill every one who came across his path, and he left. A few
hours after he shot at a policeman and lost his life.”

Officer Madden was the officer thus assailed, and he immediately turned
around and shot the Anarchist down in his tracks.

In concluding his statement Waller refers to his arrest and says:

 “On the way to the station I made up my mind not to say a word.
 Arriving there, Capt. Schaack got to talking to me and put several
 questions to me in the presence of several detectives. I noticed that
 telling lies would not do me any good, and the friendly and courteous
 treatment of the Captain made such an impression on my mind that I
 told, by and by, everything with a throbbing heart. I promised to
 repeat my statements before court, and I did so.”

OTTO LEHMAN was well known to the police by reputation through frequent
mention of his name by fellow Anarchists, but he managed for some time
to keep himself out of the way of a personal acquaintanceship with the
force. He never did cherish admiration for policemen, and his dislike
grew even more intense after he had learned that he was wanted. The
sight of a blue-coat would drive him fairly wild, and the only way he
could assuage his wrath was to take to his heels and run until his
surcharged feelings had oozed out at the ends of his toes. He was
a brave, defiant man in the presence of his comrades, and with his
military bearing he seemed the very personification of courage. He
had a great penchant for lager beer, and, while emptying glass after
glass, he talked Anarchy to the great delight of his hearers. He was an
enthusiastic attendant at all meetings of the fraternity, and always
wanted the speakers to make their harangues strong and incendiary. If
one of them failed to threaten capitalists with dynamite and guns, he
lost interest in the proceedings. In that case he would tilt his chair
back and take a nap. The moment some one rasped the air with stinging
words against capitalists and the police, Lehman would be on his feet
and applaud vociferously. He would then adjourn to a saloon, fill
himself up with lager and go home to dream of happy days when everybody
was to be rich without labor. Some nights he would jump up in bed half
asleep,—this is the story of his fellow roomers,—and shout:

[Illustration: OTTO LEHMAN.

From a Photograph.]

“Down with them; shoot them! Don’t give them any quarter! The world now
is ours.”

His bed-companion, aroused by the demonstration, would take him by the
collar and pull him down, after which he would sleep quite contentedly.
This sort of exhibition was repeated after every meeting at which
some new infernal machine had been spoken of, or some new torture for
capitalists suggested. Such speeches made him strong in the faith,
and so enthusiastic was he always that he managed to become quite a
favorite with his fellows. In return for their admiration, he would
spend his last cent in buying beer. His boarding-house was at No. 189
Hudson Avenue.

Although this is only a two-story building, there were living in it
at the time no less than eight families. That there were no more is
no fault of the house. And such families! Every one of them, from
the youngest who could talk, to the oldest who could bear arms, was
a turbulent Anarchist. Lehman was always happy in such surroundings.
Had he only had his wife and children there, his joy would have
been as nearly complete as possible until all capitalists had been
exterminated. Unfortunately his family were in Germany. He had left
them there three years before. At that time he would have been pleased
to bring them along with him had it not been for his haste to get out
of Emperor William’s dominions to escape the law of the land.

In his new surroundings in America Lehman only waited for the day when
millionaires would either “bite the dust” or capitulate by handing
over their wealth to the Anarchists. He never for a moment doubted
that that day was almost at hand. Even after the Haymarket riot he had
hope, but it vanished completely the moment he was within the grasp
of the law. Of course, he did everything to save himself for another
revolution by keeping away from the “hated police.” Had it not been for
his standing in Germany he would have returned there and waited until
the excitement in Chicago had died out, and his comrades had fixed up
another plan. He would have even gone to Canada, but he had never heard
of it as a refuge for Anarchists. For a time he succeeded remarkably
well in dodging us, as we had only a meager description of his
appearance; but on the 20th of May he was seen by Officers Schuettler
and Hoffman on the North Side. They did not know him at the time.
Lehman, however, apèears to have been suspicious of their movements,
as there had recently been many inquiries for him in the locality. The
moment Hoffman caught a glimpse of the slippery Anarchist, he remarked
to his comrade:

“I’ll bet that is one of the cut-throats. We’ll take him in on general
principles, and we can soon find out where he belongs.”

The officers gradually approached him, but Lehman, suspecting their
intentions, at once started on the run. He had run only half a block
when he was captured, put in irons and taken to the station. On his
arrival, I asked him his name.

“I’ll tell you my name, and that is all,” replied Lehman, in a surly
mood and with an air of bravado. “I am not ashamed of my name, no
matter if I am poor. I am as good a man as Grant. Now, don’t trouble me
any more. I am closed, and you cannot open me with a crow-bar. Look at
me and tell the newspapers you have seen me. I am ready to be locked
up.”

“Otto,” said I, “you have a brother named August, and he has a son by
the name of Paul. That boy is a very good runner, and at the Haymarket,
May 4, he was going to run and carry the news to outside men. The boy
did run, but not with news for the waiting men. He kept running until
he got out of town, and I know where he is. You will have him with you
in a few days. So good-by, Otto; I will see you about the first of
June. Officers, lock him up.”

Otto was accordingly escorted down stairs. He had no sooner been placed
in a cell than the officers learned the location of his boarding-house
at the number given. They at once repaired to the place and gave
it a thorough overhauling. They learned that immediately after the
Haymarket, and especially since officers had been frequently noticed in
the locality, many of the occupants had disappeared in a great hurry,
some even forgetting the clean linen that hung in their back yards, and
others neglecting to square their board bills.

The officers searched the premises and found several loaded dynamite
bombs, some showing conclusively that they had come from Lingg’s
factory. It was subsequently learned that Lingg had furnished them to
Lehman—one on the evening of May 4, at 58 Clybourn Avenue, and another
shortly after, on the same street, near Larrabee. The bombs were all
ready for use, and contained Lingg’s extra strong explosive, almost
doubly as powerful as the ordinary commercial dynamite.

Two days after his arrest, about eleven o’clock, Lehman was not in a
very happy frame of mind. His dreams had not been pleasant, and the
possibility of hanging haunted him continually. He told the janitor
that he wanted to see the Captain. I sent back word that I could not
see him until the next day. Again in the afternoon he sent the janitor
to say that he must see me at once, and that he would not speak so
defiantly as he had done before. Otto was thereupon brought up. As he
came in, he took off his hat and apologized for his rude behavior.
After inviting the Anarchist to take a seat, I remarked:

“You know what you are arrested for?”

“Oh, yes,” he replied.

“Have you made up your mind, then, as to what you wish to say?”

He answered in the affirmative.

“Will you tell me all you know of the Anarchists ever since you became
one of them?”

Assent being given, I continued: “Now, you must understand I know a
great deal of this work myself.”

Otto said he so understood.

“Well, I don’t want you to lie to me, and I don’t want you to lie about
anybody else to benefit yourself. All you tell me must be true, and if
I find that you conceal anything, I will consider you a liar and have
nothing more to do with you.”

“Oh, yes,” meekly and penitently replied Lehman, “I do agree with you
on that point, and you will find me right. I will swear to all I say,
and if I lie you can hang me in this station. But, Captain, I want
something for telling the truth.”

“Well,” I replied, “I will have the State’s Attorney or his
representative here, and if he tells you to speak and promises to
reward you, you can depend upon his word.”

In the presence of Assistant State’s Attorney Furthmann, Otto at once
unburdened his mind and related his knowledge of Anarchy in Chicago.
He also testified to a fact, made apparent in my interviews with other
prisoners, that he, like others, had been carried away by “the d——d
Anarchist literature,” as he expressed it, and that he now fully
realized the utter folly of his past course. He had been told, he said,
just as others had been told, by those who had lived in America for a
long time, that this was a free country, and there was no law to stop
them. “You can see for yourself,” they used to say to him, “they are
all afraid of us. Nobody interferes with us. We have everything all our
own way.”

“That sort of talk,” said Lehman, “made me as bad as the rest of them.”

He had fully believed, as his friends had informed him, that it was
legal to talk dynamite, and that they could form plans for murder with
impunity and without molestation. Mr. Furthmann read and explained the
law to him, when he said:

“I am glad now that I have been arrested.”

And he demonstrated the sincerity of his statement by furnishing strong
evidence against all the Anarchist leaders that he knew. He was kept
in confinement until after the trial and then released by order of the
State’s Attorney. He was forty years of age, a carpenter by occupation,
and ever since his release he has attended to work and means to live
until a good age to make amends for his past life.

The statement he gave me was as follows:

 “I belong to the armed section of the International Carpenters’ group.
 Whenever we had a meeting, the armed section remained five minutes
 later. To my group belonged myself, my brother, William Hageman, who
 lives on Rees Street, over Lehman’s grocery store, also Hageman’s
 brother, who was boarding at the same place, Ernst Niendorf, on
 Groger Street, Waller, William Seliger, John Thielen and Louis Lingg,
 all of the North Side group; also Abraham Hermann, Lorenz Hermann,
 Ernst Hubner, Charley Bock and his brother, William Lange, Michael
 Schwab, Balthasar Rau, Rudolph Schnaubelt, Fischer and Huber. I
 attended a meeting, May 3, at 71 West Lake Street, at nine o’clock. I
 heard Louis Lingg speak there, also Schwab. I saw the circular there
 which called for revenge and to arms. Waller, or Zoller, opened the
 meeting as chairman. Lingg said at the meeting that they must arm
 themselves and attend the meeting at the Haymarket to get revenge
 for those workingmen who were killed at McCormick’s factory that day
 by the police. I also heard Schwab urge them to arm themselves and
 seek revenge on the police. I heard one man call out that all armed
 men present should go to Greif’s Hall, 54 West Lake Street, that a
 meeting would be held there in the basement. I went there, as also
 did my brother Gustav, the two Hagemans, Louis Lingg, Schnaubelt,
 Breitenfeld, John Thielen and Hubner. The meeting occurred at 54 West
 Lake Street. I was there during the whole session. My brother was on
 the outside watching. I heard the speaker say that there would be a
 meeting at the Haymarket and that they expected a big crowd there,
 which would give them a chance to use their arms. He also said that
 the police would no doubt come there to disperse them. If they refused
 to go, the police would shoot, and they would have a good chance to
 shoot at them. The speakers at that meeting would be Spies, Fielden
 and Parsons. The North Side armed group would meet at Neff’s Hall,
 58 Clybourn Avenue, on Tuesday night, and they were to be ready with
 their arms and wait for orders. The Northwest Side group would also
 be ready and wait for orders. As soon as there was trouble at the
 Haymarket, they would be at Wicker Park ready for action. I heard the
 word ‘Ruhe’ spoken of at that meeting in the basement. If that word
 appeared in the paper—the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_—the next day, it would
 mean a revolution, and the attack on the police would be made that
 night. ‘Y, komme,’ was a sign published in the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_,
 meaning that there would be a meeting of the armed men. When I saw
 that revenge circular at No. 71 West Lake Street, it excited me very
 much and brought me to the meeting at 54 West Lake Street. I saw
 Adolph Fischer at that meeting. He made an address to us calling us
 to arms and urged that we should take revenge on the capitalists and
 the officers who had killed our brother workingmen on that day at
 McCormick’s. This man Fischer, whose picture has just been shown me
 by the Captain, is the person who said he would see that circulars
 were printed for the Haymarket meeting next day. The word ‘Ruhe’ was
 our signal word, adopted by the meeting that night at 54 West Lake
 Street, to attack the police. I heard some one say at the meeting that
 we should also attack the police station-houses and the police who
 might be within. They should make dynamite bombs and have them ready
 to throw into the stations. Lingg said: ‘I will have the dynamite and
 bombs ready to be used when called for.’ I did not hear of any one
 else saying or offering to furnish dynamite bombs. I was about fifteen
 feet away from Lingg when he made the remark. Then I left the meeting
 and the hall. The unanimous understanding among us all was that all
 who desired bombs must go to Lingg and get them. And we did not look
 to any one else for them. It was further stated at the meeting that,
 in case we should see a patrol wagon on the night of the attack, we
 should destroy the wagon, the horses and the officers, so that they
 could not render assistance to the officers at the Haymarket. On
 Tuesday evening, May 4, at nine o’clock, I went to Neff’s Hall, 58
 Clybourn Avenue, and there I met both Hermanns, Rau, the Hagemans,
 Bock, Seliger and Lingg. Lingg gave me some of those long dynamite
 bombs and said: ‘Here, you take this and use it.’ He then started
 away. I heard that night—Tuesday—at eleven o’clock, at Ernst Grau’s
 saloon, that there had been some shooting that night, that a bomb had
 been thrown and that many were killed and wounded at the Haymarket. A
 tall man came into Neff’s Hall that night, May 4, at eleven o’clock,
 and told us about the shooting, the explosion of the bomb and the
 killing of the people. His clothes were all covered with mud, and he
 appeared greatly excited. He said: ‘You are having a good time here
 drinking beer. See how I look. I was over to the Haymarket and lost my
 revolvers.’ His name is August. He is the man—about thirty years of
 age, five feet ten inches tall, smooth face or a slight mustache, and
 is a bricklayer by occupation. [This was August Groge.] The dynamite
 bomb I had was made with a gas-pipe. My statement I will swear to at
 any time I am called upon.”

The bomb he speaks of was among those found by Officer Hoffman at No.
189 Hudson Avenue.

       *       *       *       *       *

GUSTAV LEHMAN was arrested on the same day—May 20—with his brother
Otto, only a little earlier in the morning. He was working as a
carpenter, on a new building at the southwest corner of Sedgwick and
Starr Streets, when Officers Schuettler and Hoffman accosted him, and
his home at the time was at No. 41 Fremont Street, in the basement
of a small building. He had a poor, sickly wife and six children.
His wife,—who subsequently died in the County Hospital, in July,
1888,—when she was notified of his arrest, said:

“Well, I am very sorry for my dear husband, but now my words are coming
true. He would take the last cent out of the house and run to meetings
every night. Instead of leaving the money at home to buy clothing
with for the children and medicine for myself, he would spend the
last cent in saloons. At times when I heard him and others talk about
capitalists, about an equal division of everything, I thought it all
very foolish, and I would tell my husband so. The only answer he would
give me was:

“‘Oh, you old women don’t know anything. You come to our meetings, and
there you will be enlightened and learn how we are going to have things
before long.’

[Illustration: GUSTAV LEHMAN.

From a Photograph.]

“I often told him, ‘You will have things so that you all will be locked
up and beg for mercy and be glad to go to work and let other people
alone.’ One day he didn’t work; he wanted to go to a meeting on the
West Side. I reasoned with him and asked him to stay at home. I was
afraid they would all be arrested for their foolish undertakings.
Gustav got mad at me and said:

“‘Now is our time or never. Before one month is over we will have
things our own way. We have already got the capitalists, the militia
and the police trembling in their boots. We are prepared, and, as soon
as we strike the first blow, they will run away. Those that don’t run
we will kill. We don’t expect to give them quarter.’”

The poor woman had clearly foreseen the outcome, and with rare judgment
and fine instinct, in spite of her lowly station in life, she had
sought early and late to instill into her husband’s mind some practical
ideas of life. Within the limited lines of her observation she had
grasped the problem of social existence, its struggles, its sufferings
and its rewards, and she intuitively knew that such changes as her
husband and others of his ilk desired could never be brought about by
revolution in a free country. She loved her husband tenderly, and would
have made any sacrifice for him. But he, rather than forego attendance
at a single meeting, preferred that wife and children should suffer
want. He kept his family in constant suspense and ranted like a madman.

Lehman was a man about forty-five years of age, weighed two hundred
pounds, and, although he had only the use of one eye, he was a good
mechanic.

When he was brought to the station he was asked his name.

“I don’t give any name,” he answered, somewhat indignantly.

“Why not?” asked I, in a pacific tone of voice.

“Because,” was the gruff answer, “I don’t want anything to do with you.”

“Oh, you don’t. I am pleased to make your acquaintance. We don’t find
such a great man as you are every day. Officer, take this man to a safe
place down stairs and leave him there until we want him again.”

“Well, you don’t scare me any,” thundered the burly Lehman.

“Well, now, we don’t want to scare you,” retorted I pleasantly, “but I
thought you needed rest. You won’t feel so tired when you see us again.
You will find more of your friends down stairs. If you talk to any one,
you will be taken away from here and sent to the Desplaines Street
Station.”

At the last remark Lehman winced perceptibly. The name of the
Desplaines Street Station grated harshly on his ear, and he evidently
felt that I had some surprise in store for him. He could have lightly
passed by any other thrusts, but this nettled him. It was made for a
purpose. I knew that all Anarchists had an intense hatred for that
station, and greater than their hatred of the place was their anger
against Bonfield, who had charge of it. They would rather suffer
torments anywhere else than be cast into a cell in that place.

But Lehman shortly recovered his equanimity, and, assuming a stolid
indifference to his surroundings, remarked:

“If you think you can make me ‘squeal,’ you are badly mistaken.”

“Oh, no; we don’t want you to ‘squeal,’” said I. “We are rather afraid
you will beg to be allowed to come here and sit on your knees to
tell us all you know about making bombs and dynamite—all about your
meetings—how often you have presided at meetings and how much dynamite
you got from Lingg; and to tell us all about your brother, and where
your son is hiding now, and where you placed the bombs that you carried
around in your pocket on May 4; how bad a headache you had after
filling the bombs with dynamite at Seliger’s house. You see, August, we
simply want to call your attention to all these little things—that’s
all.”

This charge proved a little too strong for the doughty Lehman. He
had kept up his courage well, but the rapidity of the assault, the
dark secrets hinted at and the insinuations made had taxed his powers
of resistance almost beyond endurance. His facial muscles twitched,
and for a moment he wrestled with himself. He asked for a glass of
water, and, quaffing its contents to the last drop, he rallied and
straightened himself as if determined to hold out in spite of his
nerves. Recovering his breath and struggling with his emotions, he said:

“If you have the power to hang me, do so. I have belonged to the cause
so long that I will die before I reveal anything.”

That was sufficient. Lehman was taken down stairs and locked up. The
very next morning he sent the janitor to my office with a request
to see me. I told the janitor that I was very busy and could not be
interrupted unless Lehman had something very important to communicate.
To this Lehman replied that he had discovered that there were other men
locked up down stairs, and he was satisfied that if they had a chance
they would “squeal.” Would I accord him an interview? He was brought
up, and, in the presence of Assistant State’s Attorney Furthmann and
the officers, proceeded to unfold a very remarkable tale. He began
very cautiously, evidently following the instructions laid down in
John Most’s book for Anarchists in trouble, but, as the questions were
plied upon him, he soon discovered that he was in a very “tight box.”
He finally asked if there was any prospect of his being hung. He was
informed that he must tell all he knew, and all must be true; that we
did not want him to try to lie himself out of his trouble or tell a
falsehood against an innocent man. Probably he would be called on to
testify in court, and, of course, if he was a witness for the State, he
would not be hanged.

“I do trust you men,” he said, and revealed all the secrets that he
knew, without reserve as to his own deeds and the experiences he
had had with the other Anarchists. His statement gave the officers
important points.

After the trial, Lehman declared he had no more use for Anarchy. He
became a good husband and a kind father. In 1889 he married again, and,
strange to say, Officer Nordrum acted as “best man” at the ceremony.
The nature of Gustav’s testimony appears in the evidence he gave at the
trial.

ABRAHAM HERMANN was a man of different temperament; but, after his
arrest, he showed a somewhat similar disposition as to secretiveness
and stubbornness. He was arrested on the evening of May 10 at eight
o’clock. He lived at No. 25 Clybourn Avenue. He was about thirty-four
years of age, medium build, and weighed about 185 pounds. He was of
dark complexion, wore a full black beard, had sharp, piercing eyes,
and from thinking much on Anarchy, had come to present a sickly
appearance. He did not look at all vicious, however, and was very quiet
in his manner. He was a good machinist and fully conversant with the
German language. In conversation he was slow and deliberate, evidently
thinking twice before speaking.

At the time Abraham was taken in charge, his brother Lorenz was also
arrested. Abraham’s house had been searched a week before, and two
rifles had been found and taken to the station. When the officers met
the brothers, they were told to come to the station to identify their
property, and when they set foot inside my office they were notified
that they were under arrest. They manifested no surprise. Abraham was
asked if he had anything to say. He wanted to know what about, and when
informed that we wanted information about Anarchy, he slowly replied
that he “did not know any Anarchists.”

“You can probably tell us something about how to drill Anarchists and
how much profit you made on the rifles, or the 44-caliber Remington
revolvers; or perhaps tell us how many men you had in your command on
the night of the 4th of May around this station, and tell us about the
trouble you had with Lingg in Neff’s Hall at eleven o’clock, May 4th,
after the explosion of the bomb at the Haymarket.”

[Illustration: ZEPF’S HALL. From a Photograph.]

I could have put a few more queries, but I stopped to watch the
effect. Abraham’s eyes bulged out for a moment in surprise, but not
a word did he have to say. He was at once locked up, and for nearly
three days betrayed no signs of weakening. On the third day he showed
a little anxiety and expressed a desire to see me. He was brought
up, but, getting into a comfortable room, where the light of day
made all surroundings cheerful, he became rather buoyant and seemed
loth to depress the spirits of others by unfolding harrowing tales
of Anarchistic plots. I tried to engage him in conversation, but the
answers came in monosyllables and with a sort of guttural emphasis.
The situation was becoming very tiresome. I thought Abraham had
suddenly been seized with the lockjaw, but determined to fathom the
man’s mind. I urged him not to be guided by Most’s book,—we understood
that,—but to speak out if he had any information to give. If he had
nothing to impart, to say so. He promptly saw that the situation was
growing critical, and that, if he still refrained from speaking,
possibly his last chance for saving himself might be gone. He relaxed
the muscles of his face, opened his lips and prepared to talk. It was a
great effort, but he evidently realized that something must be done.

“Well,” he finally drawled out, “I don’t know what to tell you. It
seems to me you people know about everything and have things down as
correctly as I can give them to you. And you know all about me, too.
I say this for myself: I don’t know anything about the laws of the
country. I have been told by people that ought to know better, that for
what we were doing there was no law. I now see my mistake.”

Hermann then gave information on himself and others, and stated that he
had never liked Lingg. Lingg, he remarked, was the most rabid Anarchist
he had ever seen, and he almost believed that the man had a dynamite
bomb in his head. He himself had never had anything to say in favor of
the use of dynamite. He was a military man, and believed in the use of
rifles. He had held that all the Anarchists should be well drilled and
that no man should carry arms unless he knew how to use them. He was
opposed to throwing stones or fighting in the streets. He believed in
swords and good riflemen, and he was one of that class. His idea was
never to undertake anything until fully prepared, and when they were
prepared to let their work show the result.

During the interview he was very cautious in his statements, but he did
not spare the leaders. At the same time he would not implicate any one
of no special consequence in the order. His statement, however, was
as sweeping as it was surprising. He was implicitly believed by the
officers, as candor and earnestness were manifest in his disclosures.

Hermann was indicted by the grand jury, but after he had been in
custody for awhile he was released by order of the State’s Attorney. At
the beginning of the trial he was brought in again and confined until
its termination. He was then given his liberty. He has since become an
industrious man, and has only had two or three relapses by attending
some of the open, public meetings. He now declares, however, that he is
through with Anarchy.

What he had to say to Assistant State’s Attorney Furthmann, myself and
the officers was this:

 “I have belonged to the North Side armed group since 1883. The members
 of the group are as follows: Schwab, Rau, Huber, Neebe, the two
 Lehmans, Thielen, Lingg, Hubner, Seliger, Lange, Schnaubelt, Lorenz
 Hermann, Abraham Hermann, the two Hagemans, Heyman, Niendorf and
 Charley Bock. We were about forty men strong on the North Side. I
 do not know anything about the word ‘Ruhe.’ On Monday, May 3, at 9
 P.M., I attended a meeting of the metal-workers at Seamen’s Hall, on
 Randolph, near Jefferson Street. I saw August Spies. He was passing
 and handing out some of the circulars that called for revenge upon the
 law and the police. Spies was at the meeting when I got there, and he
 had a handful of those circulars. I saw Spies busying himself around
 the meeting talking to the people. The secretary of this meeting was
 a man named Hahneman. Lange was president. I belong to the North Side
 branch of the same union. But this was a general meeting. I only knew
 a few of the members present. The president of the meeting works for
 a firm on Wabash Avenue—a brass-finisher named Andrew or Andre. When
 I left this meeting at ten o’clock I went to 54 West Lake Street. As
 I came into the saloon some one said that there was a meeting down
 stairs. I went down. Waller was president of that meeting. I also saw
 Fischer there. I know Schnaubelt. He was there. When the question came
 up about printing the circulars for the Haymarket meeting, Fischer
 said that he would see to it. Some one suggested that letters should
 be sent to the armed people or members in surrounding cities near
 Chicago, asking them to attend to the police and militia there, so
 that they could not come to the assistance of the officers or police
 of this city. On my opposition the proposition was dropped. I saw
 Hubner and Lingg at that meeting. As I came in some one said, ‘Lingg
 is going to attend to that.’ I understood it to mean furnishing the
 dynamite bombs. I saw the meeting was intended for mischief, and I
 left the place. At a meeting May 4, at 8:30 P.M., in the hall in the
 rear of Neff’s saloon, 58 Clybourn Avenue, I heard that the plan of
 operation decided upon was the same as given to the armed men at 54
 West Lake Street. So far as I remember the plan, it was something like
 this: Some of the armed men were to go to the police stations, and,
 if the police were called out, to throw dynamite bombs among them,
 set the houses on fire and keep the police on the North Side. As far
 as I know, the Northwest Side group had a similar plan. Lingg was not
 there at this time. All members present were anxious to see him come,
 waiting for bombs. I was in the hall about an hour. I went back again
 the same evening—May 4—about eleven o’clock. The first I heard of
 any trouble was about 10:30. A man whose name is Anton Hirschberger
 came into the saloon and told us that there had been a riot at the
 Haymarket. At the same time a tall man came in and said he had been at
 the riot, that a lot of bullets flew around them, a bomb had exploded,
 and that either some one had stolen his revolver or he had lost it.
 Then Neff said he was going to close up his place, the hour being
 eleven o’clock. On Wednesday, May 5, I met Lingg and Seliger at that
 place. I was surprised at meeting Lingg there, because I thought then
 that he ought to have been locked up. Lingg spoke to me and said, ‘You
 are nice cowards.’ I replied that he had better keep his mouth shut,
 as he was the cause of the whole affair. Hubner and I were there to
 attend a meeting of our people to be held on the quiet in Lincoln
 Park. We were to meet at the park because we expected it would not be
 safe to hold it anywhere else. What led me to think that Lingg ought
 to have been locked up was because he was always advocating the use
 of dynamite and bombs. That a bomb had been thrown was a fact, and I
 thought Lingg ought to have been arrested for it.”

 On May 31, Hermann made another statement, as follows:

 “I know August Spies. He is the editor of the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_
 of this city. I knew him to write several articles on revolution.
 I was elected as an agent at a general meeting to procure and sell
 arms. This was in October last—1885. Balthasar Rau was chairman of
 that meeting. We had several men as a committee. They were called
 the Bureau of Information. It was composed of Parsons, from the
 English section; Charles Bock, German, also assistant secretary to
 Rau; Hirschberger, French, and Mikolanda, Bohemian. Every Anarchist
 looked to that bureau for information. I used to get my guns from New
 York, from a man named Seeger. He lives on Third Avenue.

[Illustration: TIMMERHOF HALL,

No. 703 Milwaukee Avenue. From a Photograph.]

 He was the middleman between me and the factory where the arms were
 made. I got twenty-five revolvers last February. They were shipped
 direct to me at No. 25 Clybourn Avenue. I sold them all at cost price
 to members. That was $6.50. The last two revolvers I sold May 3,
 1886—one to a man named Asher, and the other to August, a bricklayer.
 Before that I sold one revolver to Schnaubelt, one to Lingg and one
 to Seliger. It was Schnaubelt who proposed at the meeting held at
 54 West Lake Street, May 3, to notify outside cities, but I told
 him it was all nonsense. About two weeks before this meeting I met
 Breitenfeld in a saloon, and said that I had often heard this letter
 ‘Y,’ and I was bound to find out its meaning when it appeared in the
 _Arbeiter-Zeitung_. Breitenfeld said that it meant a meeting of the
 armed men, and told me to wait and he would get me into the meeting.
 I waited for a long time—about an hour. Then he came out, and I was
 admitted with him. I was in the meeting with him for an hour, and then
 it adjourned. I have known Lingg for six months. At the meeting at 54
 West Lake Street on the evening of May 3, it was supposed then that
 the police would interfere at the Haymarket, and then there would be a
 chance for a riot. Four members of the North Side group were detailed
 at that meeting as spies. If the riot should be a failure and we
 should get beaten by the police, our gathering-places after that would
 be at Center Park, Humboldt Park, St. Michael’s Church, Lincoln Park
 and Wicker Park. The signal of attack after the riot had commenced
 was to be an illumination of the heavens by red fires. Some one asked
 for dynamite, and he was answered that Lingg would furnish the stuff.
 The different spies detailed at that meeting were to hold a meeting
 the next day, each division for itself, and afterwards in a body at
 Zepf’s Hall, to perfect all arrangements for the riot. I accused Lingg
 of making dynamite bombs, and told him that if any trouble grew out
 of it, it would be on his account. He called me a coward. I knew that
 Lingg was in trouble in Philadelphia shortly before he left there.”

LORENZ HERMANN was twenty-six years of age, of slim build, with a very
sallow face, and apparently a consumptive. His occupation was that
of a brass-molder, and he was a good workman. On his arrival at the
station he expressed great surprise at the impudence of the officers in
compelling him to come against his will. He was asked his name, and he
gave it. When requested to spell it, he said he did not know how; all
he knew was that it was Lorenz Hermann. Being questioned with reference
to Anarchy, he replied that he did not know anything about it, and when
accused of having taken part in the revolutionary plot, he said he had
not taken as great a part in it as his brother had. He soon discovered
that the police had a great deal of information about his brother, and
then he changed his tactics by trying to smooth things over for Abraham.

“My brother,” he said, “is married and has a family. I am single. I
want to see my brother out of this trouble; no matter about me.”

“Well, then,” I interposed, “why not tell us something?”

“Me?” asked Lorenz. “I don’t know anything to tell.”

He had evidently changed his mind on the spur of the moment, and he
grew exceedingly reticent.

“Well,” said I, “I will tell you something then. I will call your
attention to May 4, between the hours of 8:30 and 10:30 P.M. You were
around this station with about nineteen other men, and among them was
your brother. You were to throw bombs into the patrol wagon in case the
police were called out to go to the West Side to assist the police at
the Haymarket, but you remained a little too long in a saloon on Clark
Street. When you came out and reached the corner of Superior Street and
La Salle Avenue, you saw three patrol wagons loaded with police going
south on LaSalle Avenue, but you were not near enough to throw a bomb.
This made you very angry. Then some of you went to Moody’s church and
remained there for some time. When you finally saw so many policemen
coming to the station you all got scared and went to the hall at 58
Clybourn Avenue. Oh, by the way, which route did you take on leaving
the station? Did you go to the Haymarket or to Neff’s Hall?”

“I was at the Haymarket,” replied Lorenz.

“Is it not true—all that I told you about the station?”

“Yes, that is true,” responded Lorenz. “Some one told me about it.”

“Who told you?”

“I don’t know.”

“You lie,” said I. “You must tell us who; that is the man we are after.”

Seeing that he was gradually being cornered by his evasive replies, he
put on a bold front to the whole matter and answered:

“Well, I was there myself. I did not stay very long, and from there I
went to the Haymarket. I think Hageman and I went together.”

Further questioning only brought out sullen responses, with very
meager information, but, after being allowed to think the matter over,
he finally concluded to make a clean breast of it. He was kept busy
with explanations for some time, and he gave me some very pointed
information. He was indicted by the grand jury and afterwards released
by order of the State’s Attorney. Lorenz has never been heard of since,
but it is supposed he is now leading a quiet life and proving himself a
better man.

His statement, among other things corroborative of what others had
divulged, contains the following:

 “At a meeting held at 58 Clybourn Avenue, I heard Engel say that if
 they wanted to make bombs they could find plenty of gas-pipe on the
 West Side, in the city yards, near the Chicago Avenue bridge, and
 then if they wanted to learn how to make them they could come to him.
 All that was necessary was to cut the pipes up into lengths of six or
 eight inches, fill them with dynamite and put a wooden plug at each
 end. He had with him at the time his daughter, who was about fifteen
 or sixteen years of age. I saw Hirschberger, Hageman and Charles Bock
 at eleven o’clock on the evening of Tuesday, May 4, in Neff’s place,
 at 58 Clybourn Avenue. Hirschberger told those present about the riot
 on the West Side. I was at the Haymarket meeting in the company of
 Hageman, the carpenter. Two men stood close together near me, and they
 looked suspicious. I was there at the time the police came up. I got
 frightened and ran away. I ran without stopping till I reached Neff’s
 place, on the North Side. I found my brother there, and I told him
 about the throwing of the bomb, its explosion and what happened. I
 did not want to get mixed up in the affair, and that is the reason I
 declined to speak at first. I belonged to the armed men of the North
 Side. The revolvers and guns my brother sold he got from a factory in
 New York. He sold about twelve guns to the Socialists. He sold a box
 full of revolvers, about twenty in a box, for $6.90 a piece. For seven
 months my brother acted as agent, under appointment, to procure and
 sell guns and revolvers.”



CHAPTER XVI.

 Pushing the Anarchists—A Scene on a Street-car—How Herman
 Muntzenberg Gave Himself Away—The Secret Signal—“D——n the
 Informers”—A Satchelful of Bombs—More about Engel’s Murderous
 Plan—Drilling the Lehr und Wehr Verein—Breitenfeld’s Cowardice—An
 Anarchist Judas—The Hagemans—Dynamite in Gas-pipe—An Admirer of
 Lingg—A Scheme to Remove the Author—The Hospitalities of the Police
 Station—Mr. Jebolinski’s Indignation—A Bogus Milkman—An Unwilling
 Visitor—Mistaken for a Detective—An Eccentric Prisoner—Division of
 Labor at the Dynamite Factory—Clermont’s Dilemma—The Arrangements
 for the Haymarket.


THE Anarchists, both in and out of prison, had begun to discover about
this time that there was a law in the land, and that its majesty would
be vindicated. They were confronted with stubborn, serious facts,
and they realized that they were in a world of perplexities. They
had been circumvented at every step in their efforts at concealment,
and their plot had been revealed in its most essential parts. Their
leaders had been gathered in, and their comrades were being arrested
every day. Cunning and shrewd as they supposed themselves to be, they
had discovered that society was equal to the task of probing their
secrets. At first they had assumed an air of bravado and indifference,
but, seeing how easily their bluff could be called and how closely we
had the record of each, they realized that evasion or silence was not
calculated either to keep their necks out of the halter or to save them
from the penitentiary. Those arrested nearly all turned craven cowards,
and this situation of affairs did not contribute to the comfort of
those still outside, who were in momentary dread of apprehension.
Arrest followed arrest, and Mr. Furthmann and I were kept exceedingly
busy in directing the taking of confessions and assimilating the
material for future use. Still the good work went on.

The first victim, after the Hermann brothers, to fall under police
control was Herman Muntzenberg. He was arrested on the evening of May
20, at eight o’clock, and the circumstances attending his arrest were
somewhat peculiar. On the evening in question, Officers Schuettler and
Hoffman were transferring the Hermann brothers from the Larrabee Street
Station to the Chicago Avenue Station. They boarded an open street-car
with their prisoners, whom they placed on a rear seat facing front,
stationing themselves immediately behind on the platform. In the middle
of the car, facing to the rear, sat a stranger. Presently the officers
noticed that the man was making signs to the Hermanns. In response,
Lorenz Hermann placed his right hand over his mouth. This was followed
by another sign from the stranger. Officer Schuettler recognized the
fact that the man was a friend of the Hermanns, and he requested the
prisoners not to divulge the officers’ identity. The stranger seemed
to be in doubt about something, left his seat, and, placing himself
at the side of Abraham Hermann, started a conversation. He appeared to
be an old acquaintance. This was sufficient for the officers. When the
car reached the corner of Wells Street and Chicago Avenue, the stranger
was about to leave. He was quietly told by the officers not to trouble
himself just then to get off the car, but to keep his seat a little
while longer. Naturally the man was surprised at this request of men
whom he did not know, and indignantly declined to ride any farther. The
officers promptly told him to consider himself under arrest and not to
move if he valued his life. They had in the meantime recognized the man
as the little fellow who had carried the satchel filled with dynamite
bombs to Neff’s Hall, along with Lingg. It was Herman Muntzenberg.

[Illustration: HERMANN MUNTZENBERG.

From a Photograph.]

The three prisoners were taken to the station, and Muntzenberg was
locked up by himself over night. The next day he was brought into my
office. The density of his ignorance respecting Anarchy or Anarchists
was astonishing. Like the rest, he absolutely knew nothing. Some days
afterwards, however, he took a different view of things. A confession
was looked for, and he was given an opportunity.

“I see everybody is in trouble,” Muntzenberg began dolefully. “I am in
for it myself. I cannot help anybody; nobody can help me.”

He hesitated, as if trying to decide what he should do, but finally,
nerving himself, he continued:

“I will bear my own trouble. I will hurt no one else.”

“Ah,” said I, “there is Hermann, for instance; there are other people
also who have given you away. They have all professed to be your
friends in times past, and now they are trying to save their own necks
and hang you. So you want to remain silent under their charges? Have
you nothing to tell on the others?”

“That would do me no good,” answered Muntzenberg.

“Then,” said I, “what have you to say about yourself?”

“You don’t know the least thing about me,” defiantly remarked the
little man.

“Probably you had such a bad headache from the smell of dynamite that
you can’t remember anything.”

“Who told you I had a headache?” broke in Muntzenberg, now intensely
interested.

“Were you not afraid,” I continued, not heeding the interruption, “that
you would fall into the basement when you sat on the iron railing
at the corner of North Avenue and Larrabee Street, near the police
station, or did you feel confident that the bombs you had in your
pocket would hold you in your place? Another thing—you are not in the
habit of smoking cigars. Did they make you sick?”

Muntzenberg had remained somewhat passive up to this last shot, but
he suddenly showed there was a good deal of vitality in him. His eyes
flashed with excitement, and he was all attention.

“By the way,” I went on, “how much weight can you carry?”

“What do you mean?” interposed the anxious listener.

“I mean how much did that gray satchel weigh that you carried to 58
Clybourn Avenue May 4, about eight o’clock?”

“D——n the informers,” ejaculated the now irate little Anarchist.
“Give me an hour to think matters over and call me again.”

He was sent back to his cell, and on the expiration of two hours he was
brought back. He entered the office very meekly, and at once said:

“Captain, I see it is no use for me to be stubborn. Will you treat me
like the others, if I tell all I have seen and what I have done myself?”

“I promise you the same right and privilege.”

Muntzenberg made his statement and was released by order of the State’s
Attorney. He was a German, twenty-eight years old, five feet seven
inches tall, stoutly built, with large head and eyes, and followed
the trade of a blacksmith. At the time of his arrest he lived at No.
95 North Wells Street. On his release he promised to testify whenever
wanted, but about the middle of the trial he took a leave of absence
and has never been seen since. Once it was reported that he was dead,
but the report could not be verified. Muntzenberg was a warm admirer
of Lingg, Spies and Engel, and a persistent worker for their cause.
He often lost several days’ work in a week to saunter out into the
country, selling Most’s books and telling people to arm themselves.
He earned good wages when he worked, and spent it all for Anarchy.
Like others, he acknowledged that he had been led astray by incendiary
literature. His statement was as follows:

 “On May 4, about eight o’clock, I was sent to meet two men who carried
 a satchel filled with dynamite shells or bombs. I met them about a
 block from Thüringer Hall, 58 Clybourn Avenue. I told them that I had
 been asked to meet them and help carry the satchel. They said, ‘All
 right.’ I took it from them, put it on my shoulder and carried it to
 the hall. The satchel weighed about thirty pounds. In the afternoon
 of that day, about four o’clock, I came to the North Side and went
 to Hubner’s house, No. 11 Mohawk Street. He was not at home. I went
 out to look for him. I have known him for some time. I found him. The
 second time I wanted to see him I went to his house and found him at
 home in his room making transparencies for that night’s meeting at the
 Haymarket. He took lunch then, and after that we went to Seliger’s
 house, No. 442 Sedgwick Street. Reaching there, Hubner told Lingg
 and Seliger that I was his friend and all right. In the room of Lingg
 I saw two guns and two revolvers. Seliger was filling the bombs with
 dynamite. Lingg was cutting the fuse. One of them asked me if I had
 any sores on my hand. I said no. ‘Then,’ they said, ‘you can help
 us.’ My task was to fill in with dynamite the long gas-pipe shells. I
 filled six or eight shells or bombs. My head commenced to ache from
 the smell of the dynamite, so that I could not work any longer. Hubner
 also worked, putting caps on the fuse. I saw three or four men in the
 house at the time. I saw about ten round lead bombs on the bed, all
 empty. After they were finished they were put under the bed. I noticed
 about sixteen of the long gas-pipe shells or bombs about the room. At
 dark Hubner and I went to Neff’s Hall. Before leaving I saw one of
 the two, Lingg or Seliger, bring in a satchel and empty it of dirty
 clothes. As we were approaching the hall, Hubner asked me to see if
 they were coming. I went to see, and met them in the alley near the
 street. Both were carrying the satchel, each having hold of the ends
 of the handles on the satchel. I asked if I should help them. They
 answered yes. As they were tall men, I could not carry it with either
 one, and so I put it on my shoulder and carried it myself. I took it
 into the rear hall back of the saloon. After a little while one of
 them asked me where I had placed the satchel. I told him. He said that
 was not the right place and asked me to bring it back. So I went after
 it and put it into the narrow hallway. The satchel was two feet long,
 eighteen inches high and sixteen inches wide. It was covered with gray
 canvas. It weighed about thirty pounds. When I left Seliger’s house at
 dark, I took along with me three long bombs. I did so because one of
 the men there told me to do so. I knew they were bombs in the satchel
 when I carried them. Some one passed us on the street as we were going
 to the hall. Lingg said: ‘Those are heavy tools,’ meaning the contents
 of the satchel, to throw the party we met off his guard. I threw
 the three bombs I had into the lake on my way to Pullman, because I
 learned they were dangerous and I did not want them any longer. I
 saw at Neff’s Hall that night, May 4, a crowd of men together for a
 while, and then they began to part. They went away in groups of five
 or six. They all went on Clybourn Avenue to Larrabee Street. As we got
 to Larrabee Street, they all separated and spread on Larrabee Street.
 I went up to North Avenue and Larrabee Street to the police station
 with a strange man. I remained there for some time. I saw Seliger and
 Lingg near the station, going north on Larrabee Street. When I was at
 Seliger’s house one of the five men present said to me to throw bombs
 into the police station to kill the police, and if any patrol wagons
 escaped and came out to throw bombs into the wagons among the officers
 and shoot the horses. This was for the purpose of preventing them from
 giving assistance to each other. I smoked a cigar that night so that
 I would have a fire ready to light the bombs with and throw them if
 necessary. I only smoke cigars on Sundays, and, as I am not accustomed
 to smoke much, the cigar made me sick. I sat for some time on an
 iron railing on Larrabee Street, opposite the police station, on the
 southeast corner. I sat there about fifteen minutes. The wagon failed
 to come out, and, as I felt sick and could not do much anyway, I went
 home. Lingg and Seliger walked ahead of me. I saw them last when
 they crossed North Avenue, going north on Larrabee Street. The next
 evening I went to No. 58 Clybourn Avenue. I met Hubner, and he said
 that on the night of the shooting he was at Lincoln Park. I recognize
 this picture now shown me as being that of Seliger. I saw him making
 dynamite bombs at 442 Sedgwick Street on the afternoon of May 4 in
 company with Lingg. The man I have seen locked up in this station I
 saw working and making dynamite bombs in company with Seliger, and his
 name is Louis Lingg. When I was at Seliger’s house, Hubner told me to
 go to Lincoln Park, and there I would get my instructions.”

THE NEXT Anarchist brought into the station was AUGUST GRAGGE. He was
a German, twenty-eight years of age, straight and stoutly built, a
bricklayer by trade, and lived at No. 880 North Halsted Street. He was
arrested on the 24th of May. I gave him an evening’s audience shortly
after. It was apparent from his demeanor that he was a young man easily
led astray by men of force and decision of character; therefore it was
no wonder that he had become an extreme Anarchist, especially since he
had been thrown a great deal into the company of some of the rankest
leaders in the order and had attended meetings where gore and plunder
formed the chief topics of discussion. When the authorities took him in
hand, he soon modified his opinions. He stated that, like a great many
others, he had been misled to believe that Anarchist doctrines were
right and that no law existed to interfere with them; but after the
law had been read to him, he acknowledged that he had pursued a wrong
course. He had been a man of sober habits, and on being questioned he
told a very straightforward story. After giving such information as he
possessed he was released by the State’s Attorney, and he promised to
mend his ways.

The statement he made to me was as follows:

 “A man by the name of Lange and another, August Asher, coaxed me into
 the armed group. Charles Bock was our secretary four or five weeks
 ago. I heard Rau and Lingg speak in Neff’s Hall. Lingg spoke about
 dynamite and called on us to arm ourselves. They also wanted us to
 buy revolvers. I bought one—a big one—for $4. I paid $2 down. Asher
 and I went to the meeting at the Haymarket on the evening of May 4. I
 saw the circular that called that meeting. We had our big revolvers
 with us when we went there. When the shooting commenced we ran. I fell
 down, and about forty men ran over me and kept me down. I then lost
 my revolver. We had a meeting on Monday night, May 3, at Neff’s Hall.
 Abraham Hermann had three or four revolvers for sale. Asher always
 kept the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_, and at times I would read it. The first
 man I heard speak at the Haymarket was August Spies, then Parsons,
 and Fielden, next I saw Schnaubelt standing on the wagon with Spies.
 On account of its looking like rain it was decided to go to Zepf’s
 Hall. Parsons, however, told the people to remain, as he only had a
 few more words. The police finally came. Some of the people started
 to go away, but some one in a loud voice urged them to remain. Then
 firing commenced. I heard the explosion of the bomb. As I stated, I
 fell down. As soon as I could get up I started to run for the North
 Side. I went to Neff’s Hall. I found there several that I knew. I told
 them I had lost my revolver and then explained what had happened at
 the Haymarket. I carried my revolver in my hip pocket, and it dropped
 out as I fell. The revolver was loaded. I know Lingg. I have heard him
 speak at least four or five times. He would always call on the people
 to arm themselves. He also said that they were too slow in getting
 arms and that the time would come for their use and they ought to be
 ready.”

GUSTAV BREITENFELD was next arrested. He was a German, aged thirty,
a brush-maker by trade, and lived in the lower flat of a two-story
house at No. 18 Samuel Street. On May 4 he was commander of the second
company of the Lehr und Wehr Verein, and he had previously taken an
active part at all Anarchist meetings. He was regarded as a star
Anarchist on the Northwest Side, and frequently visited the house of
George Engel.

Gustav was an Anarchist jumping-jack. All that the leaders had to do
was to pull the strings, and he responded. He served on all committees,
and whenever in doubt as to any course of procedure he went to Engel
for advice. He lacked judgment and brains, and he sought to make up the
deficiency by consulting the leaders. But withal he was a dangerous
man. He was quick-tempered, but a coward when he thought he was not
likely to get the best of the situation.

On the night of May 4 he had his company ready near the city limits
to murder people and set fire to buildings, only awaiting orders to
set about the work of general destruction. They expected to see the
police flee from the Haymarket, but as the reds did the running on
that occasion, the combination failed. Their “signal” committees were
scattered and their comrades became demoralized at the unexpected
charge of the police.

Breitenfeld and his company heard the shooting at their place of
_rendezvous_, and, failing to receive the signal to begin the attack,
he went to Engel’s house to ascertain what was wrong. Learning of the
drubbing his comrades had received at the Haymarket, he was not anxious
to take similar “medicine,” and he skulked away like a whipped cur. A
house had been chosen near the limits for the incendiary torches of his
company, and it would have been in flames on their first advance if
they had received the signal. But the company were dismissed, and all
hurried home to escape danger. For two weeks they were in mortal dread
of the police.

If, however, these misguided men had been started that night, with all
things in their favor, there is no telling what fearful havoc they
would have created. The company was composed of men desperate enough,
under proper encouragement, to have murdered people asleep or awake.
They would have held high carnival if the Haymarket meeting had come
out according to expectations, and the able-bodied and the helpless
would have suffered alike at their hands. Their plan was to shoot or
stab everybody who opposed their onward march into the city, and,
crazed with success, they would have hesitated at nothing.

Breitenfeld knew all the villainous arrangements, and he was therefore
a man the police sought after. He was found on the 25th of May, at
about seven o’clock, by Officers Stift and Schuettler, and brought to
the Chicago Avenue Station. When I had the honor of meeting him, he
at once assumed military airs, but he soon found himself reduced to
the ranks. As he was one of the few who understood English, the law on
conspiracies was read to him. Then he was informed that he had been
indicted, and was told what could be proved against him. He became
terribly excited, could hardly speak, but finally managed to say:

“Gentlemen, you have got the wrong man. You want to get my brother. I
am not that Breitenfeld. I am a good, peaceable man.”

He was informed that lies were at a discount in the station just then,
and that if he desired to speak and tell the truth an opportunity would
be given him. If not, we would tolerate no nonsense. He refrained from
speaking, and was sent below.

The next day he sent word that he wanted to see me. He was brought up,
and on being seated before Assistant State’s Attorney Furthmann and all
the officers, he said:

“Gentlemen, I beg your pardon. I told you a lie. I am the man you want.
I have a wife and family, and I love them. I beg of you now, if you let
me speak, I will tell the truth and everything I know.”

“Tell all you know,” said I, “and remember that I will know when you
tell a falsehood.”

“I know you have everything by this time. If I tell you all and become
a witness against these other fellows, will you let me go?”

“If you tell all and the truth, I will see the State’s Attorney for you
and ask him to take you as a witness.”

Breitenfeld thereupon made a statement, and a few days later he was
released. When subsequently called on to testify, he refused to do so.
He had told others that the State could not convict anybody, and he
would not help the prosecution. He was, therefore, let alone. He is
still under indictment. With the lesson he had received it was thought
he would reform. In this we were mistaken. He has since attended a
number of meetings, and at the funeral of Mrs. Neebe turned out with
his company. He is the same unrepentant Anarchist that he was before
his trouble, but he is being carefully watched wherever he goes.

This is what he swore to at the station in the presence of Mr.
Furthmann, myself and the officers:

 “My name is Gustav Breitenfeld. I am thirty years old. I am married
 and I reside at No. 18 Samuel Street. I am a brush-maker. I am
 captain of the second company of the Lehr und Wehr Verein. We have
 twenty men in our company. I know Fischer and Schrade. Schrade is
 drill-sergeant of my company. On Sunday, May 2, I was at Pullman.
 I heard of the riot plan on Monday afternoon, May 3. I know George
 Engel, Deitz and Fischer. They are the principal leaders in the
 Northwest Side group and of the armed men. Heier is the name of
 the man who keeps Thalia Hall on Milwaukee Avenue. I know Kraemer;
 he lives in the rear of Engel’s house. I think I saw Kraemer at the
 meeting held on the evening of May 3, at 54 West Lake Street. I know
 Schmidt, the carrier of the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_. At that meeting I saw
 Krueger, Schrade, Gruenwald, Clermont, Kraemer, Deitz, Engel, Fischer,
 Schnaubelt and Waller. Waller was the chairman of the meeting. The
 first thing I heard they were denouncing the police force for killing
 the workingmen at McCormick’s factory. I saw the revenge circular,
 which called the people to arms. I heard Engel say that when the word
 ‘Ruhe’ should appear in the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_, every one should go
 to his meeting-place selected by them and be ready for action. I
 heard some one say that as soon as they saw the heavens illuminated
 with red fires, then was the time to commence the revolution. Engel
 and Fischer volunteered to carry the news from the Haymarket to the
 armed men stationed at Wicker Park. Engel volunteered to act as a
 spy. I know Engel to have sold arms. At the meeting of May 3, I heard
 some one asking for dynamite bombs. I heard Engel respond that the
 dynamite bombs were ready and in good hands. Fischer agreed to have
 the circulars, calling the Haymarket meeting, printed. It was said
 that there would be from 20,000 to 30,000 people at that meeting,
 and that the police would interfere. Then would be a good time to
 attack them and get revenge on them for the killing of six of their
 comrades. The word ‘Ruhe’ would signify that they should get ready
 and be on the look-out. Engel said that they should look for it in
 the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ on May 4, and they were all to go to their
 respective places, as agreed upon, with their arms or guns. The
 Haymarket meeting was decided upon as a trap to catch the police.
 Engel, Kraemer and Krueger went to the meeting to see if there was
 a big crowd there, and when they got back home Engel said there
 were only 250 men present. I went to see Engel on the morning of
 May 4 at his house. He told me he had been at the meeting and there
 were present the number I have given. I attended the meeting of the
 Northwest Side group that decided to call the meeting for the evening
 of May 3, at 54 West Lake Street. I heard, at the last-named place,
 several say that the dynamite bombs were in good hands. I met Waller
 at Thalia Hall on May 4, about eleven o’clock in the evening, and he
 remarked that they had had a very hot time of it at the Haymarket. I
 saw Fischer on Wednesday, May 5, at Thalia Hall, and he then told me
 that Spies had been arrested about four o’clock that morning. Spies is
 the only one I know of the Spies family. I have known him five years.”

WILLIAM HAGEMAN was the next to inspect our plain and unpretentious
office. He came in on his dignity and carried an air about him that
plainly exhibited his complete contempt for the police. He was a
German, about thirty years old, round-shouldered, a stair-builder by
occupation, was married and had one child. He lived at the time of his
arrest on the lower floor of a house at No. 49 Reese Street, and he
could always be found whenever Anarchist plots were to be executed.
His brother was, like himself, a rampant Anarchist, but with cunning
enough to escape arrest. William was found by Officers Schuettler and
Hoffman, about seven o’clock on the morning of May 26. He did not long
remain in ignorance of the cause of his arrest, and then he wanted me
to understand:

“My brother is no Anarchist. If any one does any squealing on him,
don’t pay any attention to it, because it all means me. I am the
fellow. The people often get us mixed.”

“You are the worst Anarchist of the two,” I remarked.

Hageman wanted to know how I had come to that conclusion.

“We know all about you,” said I.

“If you know it, be sure and don’t forget it,” was the reply. “I am
sure you won’t learn anything from me.”

“All right. But just as sure as you are sitting there, I will find out
all your performances, and every one you associated with during the
last two years, before you leave this station. And you will tell it to
me yourself.”

“Never; I will die first. I will kill myself first. I will stand any
torture you may inflict on me, but I will never tell on my comrades or
any one that worked for our cause.”

“You probably don’t remember the job you pledged yourself to undertake
on the night of May 4. It was not a very small one either, but, of
course, your nerves not being very strong that evening, you came here
to a neighboring saloon several times to brace up, and your friends,
lying in the rear of this station, felt very much the same way as you
did. So you spelled one another and strengthened your nerves. Say,
William, who said that the bombs were not good? You remember the third
window in the station on the east side of the building and the little
quarrel about the bombs—whether a round lead bomb should be thrown or
a long gas-pipe bomb. Do you remember the two policemen that crossed
the alley and stood still for a moment in the middle of that alley when
you fellows thought you were discovered—how you all got into the dark
side of the alley and ran? Now, remember, when you get ready to talk,
I will tell my side of the story, and should you get stuck, you see I
can help you out a great deal. You might recall what little you know
of the Haymarket, how you were surprised that only one bomb was thrown
and how the fellows detailed for that duty did not attend to their
business. Here, officers, show this gentleman the suite of rooms which
he is to occupy for the next four weeks. If you desire anything extra
that is not on our bill of fare, just touch the button, and you will
be waited on promptly. Any inattention on the part of the waiters must
be reported to this office. If you should conclude to make a long stay
with us, you had better provide yourself with a good supply of tobacco.
You understand that when a man is at sea he finds that there are a good
many things he needs that would come in handy.”

He did not like his apartments—singular to relate. There was no fire
escape, the linen on the bed was not changed every day, and the noise
of his neighbors kept him awake of nights. He had struck the wrong
hotel, but his apartments had been engaged for him and paid for by the
taxpayers, and he could not gracefully withdraw.

Hageman first got tired, then angry, and finally desperate. He realized
that he was in trouble and made up his mind to take me into his
confidence. He reached this conclusion on the afternoon of May 27,
and sent the janitor to the office with a message that he desired to
see me. He was informed in return that he could not see me unless he
meant to talk business. Hageman responded that he was ready to talk on
any subject upon which he might be questioned, and he was accordingly
brought into the office, into the presence of Mr. Furthmann, myself and
the detectives.

“Well,” said I, “I understand that you want to see me.”

“Yes, I do,” was the response, “but not in the presence of all these
fellows.”

“Why not?”

“Because my business is with you alone.”

“Well, you see, William, I am only one, and as what you tell here,
which must be the truth, will have to be given by you in the Criminal
Court, and as I may probably get killed before that time, there would
be no one to testify to your statement if given to me alone.”

“Oh, that is the way you want to catch me!”

“There is no catch about it. If you don’t want to make a statement in
the presence of all these men, I don’t want to hear anything from you.”

“Will you answer me one question?” asked Hageman, getting a little
apprehensive that he might lose his only chance. “It is, has any one
out of the many people locked up here squealed?”

“Well,” I answered, “most of them have already done so, and the others
are fairly breaking their necks to follow suit.”

“This is a very unpleasant thing to do.”

“Yes, that is true.”

“Can I get out by telling you all I know, and can you keep me from
testifying in court? You know this will kill a man forever.”

“Yes, but a great many policemen were killed, and they simply obeyed
orders. If you think you are better than a policeman, you had better go
down stairs again and await your trial in the Criminal Court.”

“Now, see here, Captain, I would never tell on anybody, but I have got
a wife and little baby at home. It almost sets me crazy thinking of
them, and for their sake I will tell all.”

Hageman did as he promised, but in the interview that ensued it became
apparent that he was a double-faced man, and that, when it came to
his family, he did not care a fig whether he landed the other fellows
on the gallows or in the penitentiary. He had been a brave, boasting
Anarchist. He had been accustomed to talk with his associates over
foaming “schooners” of beer, and the more beer there was the greater
his talk about killing people and overthrowing capital. He was a great
reader of Anarchistic papers and literature, and the more fiery and
unbridled the sentiment, the better he was pleased. He took a hand in
every movement, attended all the meetings and picnics of the reds,
and made himself quite a useful member of the order. He continually
boasted of the bombs that he had hid away for use, and promised to let
capitalists hear from him. The bombs he had were found to be of the
round lead and gas-pipe patterns, and some of them he had received
from Fischer a long time before May 4. He had been posted as to
the manufacture of bombs by Lingg, and was a warm friend of Engel,
whose talk about bombs suited him exactly. Hageman could not listen
patiently to any discussion from which dynamite was left out, and in
any peaceful gathering he was sure to become a disturber. If there
was no dispute, he would start one himself, and, if necessary, back
up his argument with blows. Whenever a dance or benefit was held to
replenish the treasury for the purchase of dynamite, he was promptly
on hand and exerted himself to the utmost to swell the receipts. Being
such an active member, it was natural that he knew a great deal about
his order, and he helped the State very materially with the points he
furnished.

He was kept in custody until after the trial, and with the experience
he had in prison one would think that he would cut loose altogether
from Anarchy. Not so, however. While nearly all the others repented of
their error, Hageman had no sooner regained his liberty than he became
as radical as ever. He even threatened several times to kill State’s
Attorney Grinnell, Judge Gary, myself and others. After the trial, I
had a detective at every meeting of the Anarchists, and the reports
brought me were that Hageman and Bernhard Schrade were the most violent
and determined men in the union.

Hageman would boastingly say, “I never squealed to that man Schaack.
If they had all done as I did, they would know very little about the
Anarchists.”

One night, at 54 West Lake Street, this arrant knave was approached by
one of his supposed warm friends, who happened, however, to be in my
confidence, and who said to him:

“You don’t like Schaack, and I don’t like him. He is now here at the
Desplaines Street Station. We can go into the alley and shoot him in
his office. I have a revolver here with me now, and I will go into
Florus’ and get one more. Then we will go and ‘do him.’ We will both
go and fire together and run. But mind, let there be no arrest in our
case; let us die before capture.”

“Do you mean this?” asked Hageman.

“Here is my hand. Here is my revolver, and if you play coward on me I
will kill you standing up. Now, come on.”

Did Hageman respond? Not at all. He crawled on his belly with excuses.

“That man Schaack,” he said, “knows me so well that it is not safe to
go around there.”

“Well,” replied his companion, “we can go through a vacant lot.”

“It is too dangerous, my boy,” said Hageman. “I could do all this well
enough if I never would be found out.”

“Well,” said the companion, “you are a crazy coward, and don’t you
‘shoot your mouth’ hereafter where I am.”

Hageman subsided for the time, but he is again as rampant as ever.

Here is Hageman’s statement, which he made “for the sake of his own
family,” but which helped to drive the nails into the coffins of other
families:

 “I was at the meeting held at Neff’s Hall, No. 121 West Lake Street.
 I saw Lingg there and heard him address the people, calling them to
 arms. I also saw Thielen, the two Lehmans and Peter Huber. Niendorf
 was chairman of the meeting, which had been called to consider the
 eight-hour movement. Some one at that meeting called out that there
 was a meeting at No. 54 West Lake Street and said, ‘Let us go there.’
 Then a number of us went, including Huber, Thielen and myself. I
 stood at the right hand side as one entered the basement after I got
 there. The meeting lasted from half to three quarters of an hour. I
 saw there Fischer, Engel and Waller. Waller was chairman. I heard
 Engel speak. He told us to watch for the red fires, and when we saw
 them in the heavens, then was the time to commence the revolution. The
 fires were to be the signals for the outside posts that the riot at
 the Haymarket had commenced. It was also to be regarded as a signal
 that the police had made an attack on the meeting at the Haymarket,
 and then we should commence the work of destruction. Every one should
 pick out houses beforehand, so that they could be set on fire when
 the signal was given. Engel also said at this meeting that the stuff,
 meaning dynamite, was cheap, and that any member could buy some. He
 referred to the police and said that if they saw a patrol wagon on
 the street filled with officers they should destroy the wagon and
 the police by throwing bombs into the wagon. He (Engel) urged every
 man to do as much harm as possible, meaning destruction of property
 and killing people. I heard this plan repeated afterwards by a
 black-whiskered man named Waller. Waller said that this plan for the
 revolution had been adopted by the West Side armed group. Hermann and
 I were at the Haymarket meeting, but when the shooting began we ran
 away.”

ALBERT JEBOLINSKI was another welcome guest on the 26th of May. He had
been frequently invited to partake of the hospitalities of the station,
but he appeared to be contented with putting up with dingy quarters in
out-of-the-way places rather than run the risk of meeting a policeman.
But on the day in question he received such a pressing invitation from
Schuettler and Hoffman that he finally yielded. He was a German Pole,
thirty-five years of age, of slim build, and, with a dark mustache
and large goatee, he looked like a Frenchman. He lived at the time in
a two-story brick building, first flat, at No. 11 Penn Street. The
officers knew that he was a very suspicious man and that he would run
blocks to get out of the way of a policeman, so great was his hatred
of the force. They therefore approached his house cautiously, lest he
might mistake them for blue-coats. They called rather early,—four
o’clock in the morning,—and Schuettler, giving a regular milkman’s rap
on the door, brought Mrs. Jebolinski to the front.

“Who is there,” she shouted before venturing to open the door, “and
what is wanted?”

“I am here—the milkman,” responded Schuettler. “I want to see you,
madam.”

With this assurance Mrs. Jebolinski opened the door, but the moment she
discovered that it was not the milkman, she slammed the door to—not
quick enough, however, to close it, for the officer, seeing his chance,
had thrust his foot between the door and the frame. Hoffman came at
once to the rescue and informed the woman that I had sent him after her
husband.

“We don’t know anything about Capt. Schaack,” she responded, and again
tried to close the door.

“Well, madam, I am sure the Captain knows something about you folks.”

And with this bit of information the officers pushed the door open.
This was too much for Mrs. Jebolinski. She shouted to her husband:

“O Albert, the _spitzel_, the police!”

“Don’t open the door for anybody,” came in stentorian tones from Albert
in an adjoining room. “Keep them out!”

The officers had meantime effected an entrance, and, following up the
voice, found Albert in bed.

“Good morning, Albert,” said Schuettler, in pleasant, cheerful tones.

“Who told you to come here?” gruffly demanded Albert.

“Capt. Schaack desires to see you on pressing business.”

“Oh, yes; he must be in love with me, since he sent you so early to see
me. Has no one killed that d——d bloodhound yet?”

“No, Albert, you will have a chance to see him soon, and then you can
kill him.”

“You go and tell Schaack that you have seen me, and that will be
sufficient. I will die first before I go. You cannot take me out of
here. I want my breakfast, and I will take a sleep before my wife calls
me.”

So saying, Albert jumped back into bed. Officer Schuettler
remonstrated, and was finally obliged to pull him out. Albert then
refused to dress. Talking to him had no more effect than talking to a
stone wall.

Hoffman then opened the door, and Schuettler grabbed Albert under his
arm and walked out with him despite his kicks and resistance. They
got him out into the bracing atmosphere of the morning, and, although
Albert was not dressed for company, they started off with him.

Mrs. Jebolinski rushed out after them, and, wildly gesticulating,
shouted:

“Bring him back, bring him back, and I will dress him.”

The officers retraced their steps, but not back into the house. They
took Albert to the wood-shed, and there he was dressed.

At the station he was invited down stairs and told that there were so
many who wanted to see me that he would probably have a rest for a
week. He was locked up, and during the first day he would neither eat
nor drink. He was not coaxed, however, and the next morning he called
the janitor, saying:

[Illustration: A HASTY TOILET.]

“I am sick; will you give me a cup of coffee?”

The janitor replied that he would have to wait till nine o’clock, when
the prisoners came down from court.

“Well,” said Albert, indignantly, “if I don’t get my coffee now, you
can keep your breakfast.”

When nine o’clock came around the janitor made the round, inviting the
sleepers to wake and get their breakfast.

“You can go to the d——l; you can’t make me eat,” said Jebolinski, and
he settled himself for a nap.

But when the dinner hour came Albert made up for lost time and missed
meals. At four o’clock he sent the janitor to the office to tell me
that he wanted to see me. He was brought up.

“Well, Albert,” said I, “how much do you weigh now?”

“You had better let me go home. I will never tell you anything. It is
no use keeping me here.”

“I don’t want you to tell me anything. I have secured more evidence
in the last few days than I want, and now they are all arrested. I
am going to prosecute you in court for conspiracy and murder; so you
need not trouble yourself with being stubborn. I don’t want to see
you again, not till I see you in court. Officer, take him back to the
lock-up.”

“So you can do without me?”

“Yes, I am sure I can.”

Albert was escorted down stairs, but inside of two hours he asked for
Officer Schuettler.

“I can see now,” he said to Schuettler, “that that man Schaack wants to
hang me.”

“I am sure he is done with you,” replied the officer.

“I beg of you to tell the Captain I want to see him, and say to him
that I will tell him about the bombs and everything else.”

Officer Schuettler reported the Anarchist’s wishes, and Jebolinski was
once more brought up. He then confessed that he had four loaded bombs
planted, which he would show if taken out.

He was accordingly taken in charge by Officers Schuettler and Hoffman,
whom he led to a place north of Division Street near a planing-mill and
linseed-oil factory. At that place there was a side-track, and, at a
point where the locomotives were stopped to be dumped of their cinders,
he unearthed his bombs. These bombs were covered with about four inches
of cinders, midway between the rails, and when they were taken out they
were found fully loaded, with fuse and caps. That there had been no
explosion is almost a miracle. Had a locomotive been stationed over the
spot for an hour, as frequently happened, the cinders would have been
set on fire again. In an instant locomotive and all would have been
blown to atoms, and no one would have known the precise cause. It was
lucky for some engineer and fireman, and, in fact, for the locality,
that no engine stood over the spot after those bombs had been planted.

On returning to the station, Jebolinski furnished the State with much
valuable information. He was indicted and held as a witness. But he was
never called, and after the trial he was given his liberty. He has been
watched since and found to be attending strictly to his own business.
In his statement he sets forth his attendance at the meeting at 121
West Lake Street, where were present Lingg, Rau and others, and his
presence at the Haymarket meeting, from which he ran the moment the
firing commenced. He also described the bombs,—three round lead and
one long iron one,—which he had obtained from Hageman, the one-eyed
carpenter.

PETER HUBER was another distinguished caller, by special invitation. He
was escorted to the office by Officers Whalen and Stift and took things
very coolly. He was a lank, lean, consumptive-looking fellow, only
twenty-nine years of age, and earned his living as a cabinet-maker.
He was a German, married, and had two children, living in a two-story
frame house at No. 96 Hudson Avenue. His manner was very quiet, and no
one would have taken him for an Anarchist. But Peter, nevertheless,
was heart and soul in the movement, and had regularly attended all the
meetings. He had never made a speech—he was too diffident for that; he
had never advised any one on Anarchy, but he had come to be trusted,
and he knew all the leaders and all about dynamite bombs. He was so
undemonstrative and non-communicative that at first I took him to be
a paid detective in the ranks of the Socialists. When he was asked a
question, he would take his own time to answer, and, once interrupted
in his talk, he would stop and say no more.

[Illustration: A DANGEROUS STORING-PLACE.]

On the second day after his arrest—May 25—Huber offered to answer
questions, and he did this without any inducement. He thereupon
furnished the State with several good points, and freely told
everything. He was indicted, but released by order of the State’s
Attorney. He was ready to testify at the trial, but was not wanted. He
has since kept away from Anarchist meetings, and is now a useful man to
his family.

Huber’s statement ran as follows:

 “I belonged to the North Side armed group. I know Seliger, Hubner,
 Lehman the carpenter, the two Hagemans and Lingg. Some time in
 February last, George Engel made a great speech in Neff’s Hall, No.
 58 Clybourn Avenue. I keep the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_. The Sunday edition
 of that paper is called _Die Fackel_. I saw the letter ‘Y,’ and the
 meaning of it is that, whenever we should see it in the paper, then
 there would be a meeting held that evening, of the armed men, at No.
 54 West Lake Street. May 3d there was one such meeting called for
 that evening. On that evening I went to the saloon at No. 71 West
 Lake Street and drank a glass of beer. From there I went to No. 54
 West Lake Street. While in the saloon at No. 54 West Lake Street, I
 heard some one say that a meeting would be held down stairs in the
 basement. So we went down stairs. When I entered I saw about thirty
 or forty present. I sat down on a bench, and we sat there for some
 time before the meeting opened. I heard some one say that it would
 be an indignation meeting on account of our workingmen having been
 killed at McCormick’s factory by the police on that day. I saw at
 that meeting the circular calling for revenge and the people to arms,
 because of the killing of our brothers. I saw the same circular that
 same evening at the hall No. 71 West Lake Street. Waller was chairman
 of the meeting at No. 54 West Lake Street. I met there Hubner, Abraham
 Hermann, Fischer and Breitenfeld, the captain of the second company of
 the Lehr und Wehr Verein. I heard Engel make a speech, and during the
 whole time Breitenfeld was walking up and down the hall. I also saw
 Schnaubelt and Thielen there. I was at Neff’s Hall, No. 58 Clybourn
 Avenue, early Tuesday evening, May 4th, and saw there Lingg, Seliger
 and Hubner. I heard Engel, at No. 54 West Lake Street, explain his
 plan and the work that should be done under it. A meeting, he said,
 would be held at the Haymarket, and when the police interfered the
 crowd should attack them, and the armed men should be ready for
 action. Some one suggested that they should hold their meeting at the
 Market Square on the South Side, between Randolph and Madison Streets.
 Some one else remarked: ‘No, that is not a good place; it is a mouse
 trap.’ If they held the meeting there and the police interfered, and
 the crowd resisted them, the police would drive them all into the
 river. Some said, ‘That’s so,’ and then the meeting was fixed for the
 Haymarket, as Engel had suggested. We expected from 20,000 to 30,000
 people present. We all had the idea that the police would interfere.
 Engel gave his plan about as follows: He said, ‘First call the meeting
 for the Haymarket,’ and then urged that the armed men be ready. He
 advised us to throw dynamite bombs into the stations, kill the police,
 throw dynamite bombs into the patrol wagons and shoot down the horses
 at the wagons. He repeated his plan for those who came in later to
 the meeting. The revenge circular was distributed both up stairs and
 down stairs at No. 54 West Lake Street. In the evening of May 3d, I
 saw Spies and Rau together in Zepf’s saloon. As to the word ‘Ruhe,’ I
 heard Engel say that when we saw that word appear in the paper, then
 we might know everything was right and ready. And we should watch
 for that signal. I heard Engel say that a man who could do no harm
 or create no disturbance should stay at home, as he was not wanted.
 When he had finished giving his plan, it was adopted. Schnaubelt said
 that outside cities, where they had comrades, should be notified at
 once as soon as the revolution was a success here. I saw Fischer at
 this meeting. He went to the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ to see if he could
 print the circular that night, calling the Haymarket meeting for the
 next evening. He came back and reported that the office was closed.
 He said he would attend to it in the morning. I saw Lingg, Seliger,
 Muntzenberg and Hubner in Neff’s saloon, No. 58 Clybourn Avenue, about
 eight o’clock on the evening of May 4th.”

BERNHARD SCHRADE, a German, was a peculiar combination of
eccentricities. He was arrested by Officers Whalen and Loewenstein
on the evening of May 26, at nine o’clock, on Milwaukee Avenue, near
Division Street. He was twenty-eight years of age, six feet tall, of
straight and muscular build, nervous and quick-tempered, a carpenter
by occupation, and he lived at No. 581 Milwaukee Avenue. When he was
seated in the station it did not take us long to ascertain all he knew
about Anarchy. In speaking of the Haymarket, he said that the right men
had not been in their places, or things would have turned out quite
differently. They had plenty of arms and bombs, he explained, but the
leaders did not know their business. Early in the evening there was a
large crowd, he said, but the great majority of them left in disgust
because there was not a larger gathering and the speeches were not
radical enough to suit their ideas. They expected something fiery and
impetuous. (This was about the time Mayor Harrison was at the meeting,
and the speeches were accordingly very mild.) Those that left the
meeting and did not go home, Schrade said, hung around the saloons in
the neighborhood. If six hundred police, he further said, had attacked
the crowd an hour earlier, few of them would have been left with their
lives. He knew the arrangements, and, had the plan been carried out,
the loss of life would have been appalling.

Schrade was subsequently released by order of Assistant State’s
Attorney Furthmann, and promised that he would testify in court. He was
several times sent after to give further information, and he always
responded.

[Illustration: AN OBSTREPEROUS PRISONER.]

About one month after Schrade’s release, he and two others visited a
saloon on North Avenue one night, and, after drinking a great deal of
beer, they became exceedingly noisy and boisterous. The saloon-keeper
attempted to quiet them, but was finally obliged to call an officer.
Now, none of the bibulous individuals had any liking for a policeman.
The moment they saw him enter they ordered him out and threatened that
if he did not get out they would throw him out through the window. The
officer was not at all alarmed, and, seeing that he was bent on keeping
them quiet, the three disturbers pounced down upon him. The officer
promptly brought his club into play, and soon his opponents measured
their length upon the floor. The saw-dust was sprinkled with blood,
but, before the reds could make a second assault, a citizen had brought
the patrol wagon to the rescue. They were taken in charge and thrown
into the wagon in their drunken stupor, and carted to the Larrabee
Street Station.

On the way Schrade revived somewhat, and, not quite satisfied with the
results of his former encounter, attempted to throw one of the officers
over the side of the wagon. He was clinched by the throat, however,
and kept quiet for the rest of the journey. The next morning the trio
were fined in the Police Court and released on payment of the fines.
Schrade became penitent and remained sober thereafter for some time. As
he was out of work, I paid his board bill for two weeks, and kept him
under surveillance to appear at the trial as a witness. When the trial
began he was in good humor and told the State’s Attorney that he would
give the same testimony that he had given at the station May 26. He was
accordingly produced as a witness. On the stand he failed to unfold all
the information he had previously given, but State’s Attorney Grinnell
knew all the points in his former testimony, and before he got through
with Schrade he made him a good witness for the State.

After the trial the police lost sight of Schrade for a long time,
and wondered whether he had been quietly murdered by his former
comrades or had left the city for his own good. But one day an officer
reported to me that Schrade was still in the city. It was supposed,
of course, that he would never again be found in the haunts of
Socialists. It was discovered, however, that he was a member in good
standing of Carpenters’ Union No. 241, formerly No. 1. This is the
most rabid Anarchist organization in the city, and, were it not for
some comparatively conservative members, would have long since sought
revenge for the conviction and execution of the doomed conspirators.

Schrade and Hageman, since their restoration to full membership, were
found to be as incendiary as ever in their utterances, and seemed to
vie with each other in their efforts to show that they were better
Anarchists even than before the time they informed on their companions
and helped to bring them to the gallows. In fact, they became so
demonstrative that some of the members threatened them with expulsion.
For this they sought revenge by working upon weak-minded persons to
influence them against the leaders in the organization. As long as the
conservatives remain at the head of the carpenters’ union there is no
special danger, but should such fanatics as Schrade and Hageman ever
secure control, look out for blood.

AUGUST AHLERS was known to have been a close friend of Lingg, and
accordingly I eagerly sought his acquaintance. But Ahlers after the
Haymarket conceived an aversion to fresh air and kept himself in
gloomy, unfrequented quarters. The officers knew that he had often
visited Lingg’s room, sometimes remaining three or four hours, and,
as Lingg never tolerated any one who could not be made useful, it was
believed that Ahlers could furnish valuable information if found.
Mrs. Seliger had stated that a great many visited Lingg, but most of
them sought to conceal their faces or disguise themselves in some
way, generally sneaking into the house as if they were going to steal
something or kill somebody. This man Ahlers had been one of this kind.
Lingg had every man who assisted him do certain special lines of work.
Some would bring him lead, others gas-pipe, and others again charcoal,
etc. Ahlers had helped in some way, and, with a pretty good description
of him, the detectives were continually on the watch. Finally
Officers Whalen and Loewenstein found him on the 26th of May, at No.
148 Chicago Avenue, and took him to the station. He had a sneaking
demeanor, and when brought before me I asked him to give an account
of himself between May 3d and May 6th. This he was unable to do, but
after having been locked up for a while he gave some information about
outside groups. As to Lingg he pretended to know very little, and as
the officers could not identify him with any particular person, he
was released on a promise of better behavior. He acknowledged having
been a great admirer of the Anarchist leaders and a strong supporter
of Anarchy, but now, he said, he would no longer affiliate with them.
So far as the officers have observed, he has kept his promise and is
attending strictly to his trade, that of a carpenter.

We had these kind of fellows by the hundred in this city on May 4,
1886, but fortunately God made most of them with big stomachs and no
heart or courage.

VICTOR CLERMONT, a German, was almost dumbfounded when he was informed
that I wanted to see him. Clermont is a French-sounding name, and,
when Officers Whalen and Loewenstein took him in charge on suspicion,
they mistook him for a Frenchman, especially as he looked very much
like one, having a dark mustache and goatee. Clermont was taken to
the station, and there gave his age as twenty-seven, occupation a
cabinet-maker and pool-billiard maker, and his residence No. 116
Cornelia Street. When questioned with reference to Anarchy he expressed
surprise that he should be taken for an Anarchist, but when he was
informed as to his having mysteriously sneaked into dark basements
which were lighted up with candles and whose doors were barricaded, he
looked aghast.

“There is something wrong,” he said. “Somebody wants to involve me in
the Haymarket trouble. I am sure I don’t know the least thing about
Anarchists.”

“Well,” said I, “we will see if you can remember anything. Either you
or your wife has some relatives living near the city. After the 4th of
May you sent a lot of guns, rifles, ammunition and some bombs to them
for safe-keeping. You took them away at night, and you have been so
careful as to try and disguise yourself. Yet I cannot prosecute you on
that. You have also been an active member on the Northwest Side in all
Anarchist movements. You know all the things you have been engaged in,
and so do we. I have your record right here.”

“Oh, yes,” said Victor, “I hear that you fellows have things down
very fine, because you have everything your own way. Well, if I do
acknowledge all I have done, what are you going to do with me?”

“I will do with you the same as I have done with others. I will hear
your statement and see if you can tell the truth. If you lie to me or
about any one else, I will stop you, and that is all. You are indicted,
and I will send you to jail. If you tell the truth I will send for the
State’s Attorney and ask him to let you go, but you must appear as a
witness whenever we want you.”

“I suppose,” remarked Clermont, “that my case is like this—if I don’t,
some one else will squeal.”

He then gave an account of himself and his Anarchist comrades. He was
subsequently released and visited me very often for several weeks. He
was out of employment and hard-up, and I gave him money with which
to support himself. One evening he called and said to the officers
that he had something important to tell me. I was very busy at the
time and asked him if he wanted some money. Victor replied that he
did not desire money. I offered him $5, however, and told him to come
back the next day. He would not take the money at first, but when I
told him that I could not wait any longer, he took it and left. On
reaching Milwaukee and Chicago Avenues, he met some of his old cronies
and told them that he was going away that night. Early next morning I
was informed that he had gone. Victor remained away for a year, but,
thinking things had blown over, he returned and set about to disabuse
the Anarchists of the impression that he had ever “squealed.” While he
has taken no active part in meetings since the trial, he appears to
feel that he stands well with the Anarchists, and always tells them
that when he was arrested “he never gave anything away.”

His statement was as follows. It was given at nine o’clock on the
evening of May 26:

 “I belong to the Northwest Side Lehr und Wehr Verein, the second
 company, of which Breitenfeld is captain. Some time ago, at a meeting
 held at 54 West Lake Street, it was stated that the police would break
 up their meetings if they knew when and where they held them, and
 that therefore it was necessary to adopt some secret way of calling
 their meetings. We adopted, ‘Y, komme,’ and when we saw that letter
 appear in the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ on any day we might know a meeting
 would be held at No. 54 West Lake Street. I was at Thalia Hall, May
 3, early in the evening. We were to have held a meeting to elect new
 officers of the company, but no meeting was held. Some one came into
 the saloon and said that there were four of our workingmen killed at
 McCormick’s factory that afternoon. Then some one said that a call for
 a meeting that evening at No. 54 West Lake Street had been published
 in the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_, and a lot of us went there to learn further
 particulars about the shooting of our men. I there saw those circulars
 calling for revenge and the people to arms. That circular made me
 very excited. I was one of the first to get to that meeting at 54
 West Lake Street. At the commencement of the meeting we put a man at
 each door to prevent any one listening or seeing what was going on in
 the inside, and to admit only members. That meeting was only called
 for the armed men. Waller was chairman. I heard Engel make a speech,
 and he presented the plan adopted by the Northwest Side group.” (Here
 follows a detailed account of the “plan,” agreeing in every particular
 with that given by other witnesses as to blowing up police stations,
 setting fire to buildings, killing people, the use of the word “Ruhe,”
 etc.) “We expected that there would be present at the Haymarket
 meeting from 30,000 to 40,000 people and that then there would be a
 good chance for us to commence our revolution and attack the police
 and the government. There were also to be spies at the meeting to
 communicate with the groups in the outlying sections (Wicker Park and
 Lincoln Park). But the spies did not do their work, and then after
 Engel’s speech several got to talking about guns, fires and bombs. On
 the motion of Fischer it was decided to have 10,000 circulars calling
 the Haymarket meeting printed, and he said he would attend to it.
 First Market Square was proposed, but some one objected by saying it
 was a mouse trap in case of trouble, and the Haymarket was agreed
 upon. Before finishing telling about his plan Engel said it had been
 adopted by the Northwest Side group and referred to Fischer to answer
 if that was not so. Fischer replied, ‘Yes, that is the plan.’”

I asked Clermont if that was the first time he had ever heard of the
“plan,” and he replied:

 “Yes, it was the first time I had heard of the revolutionary plan.
 I never heard of it before, and only heard of it through Engel that
 night. This was the only plan I heard of to be followed for the
 revolution. I was at the Haymarket and expected to find a big crowd.
 To my surprise I only found about five hundred present.”

Clermont is now again in Chicago, and as rabid a red as ever. He is a
leader on the Northwest Side, and detectives have reported to me that
he has declared himself in favor of “bullets instead of ballots.” He is
also a prominent organizer in the Anarchist “Sunday-school” scheme.



CHAPTER XVII.

 Fluttering the Anarchist Dove-cote—Confessions by
 Piecemeal—Statements from the Small Fry—One of Schnaubelt’s
 Friends—“Some One Wants to Hang Me”—Neebe’s Bloodthirsty
 Threats—Burrowing in the Dark—The Starved-out Cut-throat—Torturing
 a Woman—Hopes of _Habeas Corpus_—“Little” Krueger’s
 Work—Planning a Rescue—The Signal “???” and its Meaning—A
 Red-haired Man’s Story—Firing the Socialist Heart—Meetings
 with Locked Doors—An Ambush for the Police—The Red Flag
 Episode—Beer and Philosophy—Baum’s Wife and Baby—A Wife-beating
 Revolutionist—Brother Eppinger’s Duties


THE work of ferreting out and arresting the conspirators might have
stopped with the number already gathered in, so far as the necessity
for procuring evidence to be used in court was concerned, but it was
continued to the end that every conspicuous or minor character in the
murderous plot might be made to feel the power of the law, which each
had so persistently defied. I had the names and descriptions of all
identified with Engel’s plan, their haunts, their traits of character,
and their influence in the order, and detectives, under instructions,
were continually on the search. Anarchist localities were overhauled,
unfrequented places visited, and convenient hiding-places inspected.
Every one wanted was finally brought from under cover. Not a guilty one
escaped, except Schnaubelt. Anarchistic sympathizers did everything in
their power to conceal their friends, but the police proved equal to
the emergency.

RUDOLPH DANNENBERG, a German, was one who held himself aloof from the
rest of humanity. He lived at No. 218 Fulton Street, and on the 27th of
May Officers Loewenstein and Whalen found him surrounded by his family.
During the few moments’ conversation I had with him, it became apparent
that he was like all his associates—a firm enemy of the existing
order of society. He stated that, although he was only a tailor, he
could fire a revolver as unerringly as any one and throw a bomb as far
as anybody. He declared that he thought himself adapted to something
higher, something better than being a tailor, and he had joined the
Anarchists in order to bring himself before the public and achieve
distinction. He had carefully read the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_, had noticed
the names of various people, and he did not see why he could not become
great like them and see his name and deeds frequently paraded in the
papers. He felt that he had the requisite ability, and communicated his
ambition and his desires to his wife.

Mrs. Dannenberg was a plain, unassuming woman, and did not dare to
remonstrate with a man who had finally discovered his _forte_. He
strutted about the house with the conscious pride that greatness was
within his grasp, and his changed demeanor really impressed the woman
to the extent that she believed he was already a great man. Dannenberg
lost no time in joining the Lehr und Wehr Verein, and eagerly made
the acquaintance of all the leading men in the order. He secured
recognition, and his heart swelled with joy when he attended the secret
meetings held by the order.

All these little confessions were adroitly extracted by piecemeal.
Noticing that here was a man who felt himself above the “goose” and
the needle, I concluded to send him below to discover, if he could,
the difference between being a tailor and an Anarchist in search of
greatness. I treated him with perfect indifference, and he seemed to
feel the indignity greatly. He was put in a cell, and for two days no
one went near him except the janitor.

Dannenberg finally got uneasy and sent word that he desired to see
me. He was informed in return that he would be sent to the County
Jail the next day. He then wanted to know if he would not be given an
opportunity to speak, and insisted on having a hearing. He was brought
into the office and told that he would be given just five minutes to
tell what he had to say.

“Gentlemen,” he said, in great haste, “you think because I am a tailor
I am of no account, and consequently you seem disposed to punish me. My
oath is just as good as the other fellows’.”

“What do you mean?” I inquired. “We have not asked you for your oath,
and we do not want it.”

“Oh, I see now,” said Rudolph, beginning to get angry, “you only want
the small fry. Well, look here, Captain, I don’t give a continental. I
will tell on the other big fellows, now, for the fun of the thing. They
must be punished as well as the little fellows. It is evident that the
other big fellows want to talk themselves out.”

“I think you have got the thing down very fine,” were my consoling
words.

“Yes, I know the people want to hang somebody,” said Rudolph, “and if
they can only hang a tailor they will be satisfied.”

Time was called on the speaker, the five minutes having been exhausted,
and Rudolph was about to be escorted down stairs.

“Stop! stop! officer, I have not commenced yet to talk, and I want to
be heard.”

“Well,” said I, “you want to commence very soon.”

Dannenberg again planted himself firmly in his chair, and then
proceeded to relieve himself of the burden on his mind. He gave quite
an interesting statement, and was subsequently released by order of the
State’s Attorney. He was indicted for murder before his release, and
he left after promising to report when wanted. Some time after he was
re-arrested and put in a room with fifteen others.

[Illustration: THE CONSPIRACY MEETING AT 54 WEST LAKE STREET. WALLER
READING ENGEL’S “PLAN.”]

Every one of these fifteen was morose, sullen and dejected. There was
not a cheerful word among them. They felt uncertain about their own
fate and took a gloomy view of life. The presence of Dannenberg was
like a cheerful fire in a blizzard. He had forgotten all about the
misfortune of being a tailor and a crushed Anarchist, and he kept the
company full of life with his wit and drollery.

On his final release, Dannenberg went back to his trade, quit Anarchy,
and now takes the greatest sort of pride in telling his friends that he
is simply a “knight of the needle.”

After stating his age to be thirty-two years, Dannenberg swore:

 “I went to the meeting in the basement at No. 54 West Lake Street.
 I heard Engel speak. I heard Fischer say that he would attend to
 the printing of the circulars for the Haymarket meeting. I used to
 belong to the Lehr und Wehr Verein, but I quit two months ago. I was
 at Thalia Hall, on Milwaukee Avenue, Sunday, May 2d. I used to go
 there very often. I know George Engel. At the meeting at No. 54 West
 Lake Street, he was called on for a speech, and he responded. I heard
 him speak of his plan—a plan for riots, fires, the destruction of
 buildings and property, and the killing of people and the police. I
 heard him speak of the meeting to be held at the Haymarket, and that,
 if they started there, then would be the time for us to commence
 the rebellion all over the city. A man named Schrade, sitting by my
 side, remarked to me that Engel had made a very destructive speech.
 This talk made me laugh. Engel continued by saying that when we saw
 the heavens red, then was our time to commence. The Northwest Side
 group, he said, would meet at Wicker Park, and the North Side group at
 Lincoln Park. The moment we saw the fires, as a signal, then we should
 throw bombs, shoot down the policemen and everybody who stood in our
 way, and begin the general destruction of property and life. I never
 heard of this plan before this time. Engel was the only one who spoke
 of the plan. At this meeting I knew Breitenfeld and Waller, who was
 chairman. I heard some one at that meeting ask for dynamite bombs and
 how to get them, and some said: ‘You ought to know it by this time.’
 Engel also spoke of the word ‘Ruhe.’ It was to be a signal word, and
 when it should appear in the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_, then was the time to
 be ready for a riot.”

CARL MAX EMIL ENGLISH registered at the station on the 1st of June. He
might have been gathered in long before, but he was kept under watch
in the hopes of bagging a more important Anarchist. It was known that
English was a particular friend of Schnaubelt’s, and the officers kept
their eye on him continually, thinking the bomb-thrower might be found
through his unconscious intervention. But they waited and watched
in vain, and finally Officers Palmer and Cosgrove arrested English
on suspicion. He was turned over to me, and then it was ascertained
that he knew more of the Anarchists in Pullman, where he worked, than
he did of those in Chicago. When called an Anarchist he objected,
and insisted that he was simply a Socialist—a distinction without a
difference in his case. He stated, however, that all the Anarchists in
America “looked upon Chicago as the main center of Anarchy,” and in
Pullman they got all their inspiration from Chicago. He acknowledged
an acquaintance with Muntzenberg, who, he said, had sold John Most’s
books and other Anarchistic literature at Pullman. Muntzenberg had
been in Pullman after the 4th of May, and had carried dynamite bombs
with him. The Socialists, said English, had become frightened at this
exhibition and had refrained from having any further dealings with
Muntzenberg.

English was allowed to go, with an injunction that he had better stay
in Pullman, where he belonged. He has since remained at home and is now
giving more of his time to the study of sound literature on economic
subjects. He came to America from Germany, in October, 1885, and was
led astray by Most’s writings. Had he lived in Chicago he would have
been a very handy man for Lingg. In the old country he had worked in
the manufacture of torpedoes, etc., for the Government, and he was well
posted on explosives. He was twenty-four years of age, and just such a
man as Lingg could have utilized.

AUGUST KRAEMER, a German, thought he was sharper than the police. He
had escaped their attentions, and he was felicitating himself that he
knew how to elude them successfully. One day, however—June 1st—he was
cheerfully greeted by Officers Whalen and Stift, and when they notified
him of the pleasure his company would give us at the station, he became
motionless with surprise. Recovering himself, he declared that it was
an awful outrage to arrest a man for nothing and assured the officers
again and again that he had never heard of Socialists or Anarchists,
did not know a single one of that class and would not be able to
recognize one if pointed out to him. In fact, he had not even heard
that a bomb had been thrown at the Haymarket. He played this role of
ignorance when brought before me, but I soon brought him to his senses.

“You have played the old lady long enough,” I said. “We are men here
who do not believe a word you say, and don’t want any of your tea-party
stories. Is not George Engel your friend? Did you not drink beer in
Engel’s rear room, May 4th, about eleven o’clock? Were you not there
when a lot of men waited for orders to blow up and burn down houses?
Were you not at the Haymarket with Engel, and did you not walk around
with him on the outskirts of the crowd?”

“Who told you this?” came promptly from Kraemer.

“One of those little gods you prayed to at Thalia Hall on Sundays. Why,
you hypocrite, you and twenty more get together, talk and give your
opinions about dynamite and how to construct poisoned daggers, and work
out a plan to fight the police and militia, drink beer and liquor, and
call that a prayer-meeting. What have you to say to all this? If you
can not answer I will give it to you plainer.”

“Mein Gott, some one wants to hang me,” exclaimed August. “I know Herr
Engel; he is a good man.”

“Yes, in your estimation.”

“If you only knew how awfully sorry he felt for the officers that were
killed.”

“Oh, yes. Well, do you now think that we know something about you?”

“I admit that you know all about me, but Herr Engel said that night
that it was wrong to have such a miscarriage. He did not believe in
killing a few people. All revolutions, Engel believed, ought to come
about by themselves, and then the police and soldiers would be with
them. If the people would fight, then the authorities, police and all,
would throw their guns away and run. Then the victory would be won
without spilling any blood, but such a foolish thing as the Haymarket
affair Engel would have nothing to do with.”

“Yes; all this Engel said after 10:30 o’clock that night, May 4th.”

“Yes, he said it in his back room.”

“That is all I want of you. Officers, lock up this dynamitard.”

“Captain, will you not let me make a statement?”

“Of what?”

“I know something. For God’s sake don’t lock me up.”

“Well, then, speak, double-quick time, and let there be no lying.”

Kraemer calmed himself and proceeded to unfold his story. He was
subsequently released on promising to testify in court and that
he would become a better man. He was indicted by the grand jury
for conspiracy to murder. He was not asked to testify, and it was
supposed that after all his troubles he would attend strictly to his
own business, that of a carpenter. Not so. He was to be found in the
company of the worst Anarchists between May 4th and the time of the
execution, but, when he finally discovered that there was a law in the
State to hang conspirators and murderers, he grew frightened. He now
remains at home instead of skulking into dark cellars and devising
means of revenge. He lived, at the time of his arrest, at No. 286
Milwaukee Avenue, in the rear, his friend Engel occupying the front
part of the building. He was thirty-three years of age, married, well
built, five feet eight inches in height, and an active man.

His statement was as follows:

 “I attended the meeting at No. 54 West Lake Street the night of May
 3d. I was there about fifteen minutes when the meeting was called to
 order. Some one suggested that every man of a group should see that
 every one present was one of their members. I was asked what group
 I belonged to. I could not tell. I do not belong to any group. Then
 I was told to go out because I could not give the pass-word. I told
 them that I belonged to the Socialists, but they told me I could not
 remain. I then went away. I have often been at Thalia Hall at the
 ‘Bible class.’ I met there frequently Engel and Fischer. That was in
 the month of April, 1886. At one meeting, when Engel and Fischer were
 present, some one called on the people to be ready with arms; that the
 time would soon come when they must be organized and ready to defend
 themselves. While I was at 54 West Lake Street that evening, May 3,
 some one complained that there were so few present and said that
 there had always been a good attendance until that night, and that it
 was very strange. As I could not give the sign I was put out. I heard
 Engel say that no revolution could be a success with only a small
 group; there must be general, united action.”

MARTIN BECHTEL was also requested to report at the station for an
interview. He willingly responded, and conversed quite freely. He was a
beer-brewer by profession, and on May 4 was foreman in the brewery of
Bartholomae & Leicht. He was also president of the Brewers’ Union and
presided at a meeting on the afternoon of May 3. His statement of that
meeting was as follows:

 “I had a meeting called of the brewers for that afternoon, and there
 I saw a lot of those ‘Revenge’ circulars. I saw all the men reading
 them, and, while some did not appear to care much, others got greatly
 excited over the way the police had been clubbing the people at
 McCormick’s factory. There was considerable excitement for awhile, and
 this was kept up until I called the meeting to order. I found that I
 had to be very strict before I could do anything. We transacted our
 business with great difficulty. I was interrupted now and then by some
 one coming in and talking excitedly about the police killing people
 at the factory. I restored order once more, when Oscar Neebe came in
 with a new supply of circulars and handed them around to the boys.
 Then the fire was in the straw again. After Neebe had distributed his
 circulars, he was called on for a speech, and whenever he was asked
 by any one if it was true that the police had been killing people in
 the manner described by the circular, he would answer: ‘Oh, yes; I
 know it is true. I saw it all. We must get ready and take revenge. Get
 ready; you all know what to do. You have all been to our meetings; you
 have all had instructions. Come out like men and show the capitalists
 what you are made of. Show these bloodhounds, these hirelings of the
 capitalists—I mean the blue-coated police—that we are not afraid of
 them. We must meet them and teach them a lesson. They have no regard
 for you or your families. You must feel the same to them.’ Such was
 the character of his speech and replies, and that is all I can report
 of the meeting.”

Mr. Bechtel was thanked for his information, and left the office.

It came out that during that day, after leaving that meeting, Neebe
went into a saloon on Clark Street, near Division, and said that “by
to-morrow or before to-morrow midnight the city of Chicago would swim
in blood, or perhaps lie in ashes.” There would be a revolution,
everything was ready, and he said that he would do his share of the
work. At one time he was so wrought up with excitement that he fairly
shouted at the top of his voice and made loud threats. In the trial,
it was a fortunate thing for Neebe that certain documents were not at
hand, or he would have undoubtedly been hung instead of being let off
with the fifteen years’ sentence in the penitentiary which he is now
working out. The documents desired were in some manner lost, and, when
some of the material witnesses were looked for to appear at the trial,
they could not be found.

Neebe knew perfectly well the character of the men he addressed at
the brewers’ meeting. They were all fire-eaters on the question of
Anarchy, and the name of the Brewers’ Union was simply adopted as a
cloak. The brewing companies could greatly contribute to the promotion
of law, order and decency by replacing every one of them with men who
appreciate good government and the privileges of citizenship.

In one brewery on the North Side, these “reds” managed to get the
teamsters and beer-peddlers inoculated with their heresy, and the
result was that the police were often called upon to quell disturbances
growing either out of arguments with customers or saloon patrons. The
injury thus done to the trade of the company must have been large. Is
it a fear of these men or is there a lack of better material that keeps
them in their places? It is certain that such men are doing the brewing
companies no good. They are a bad lot and need watching. They are
watched.

MORITZ NEFF was the owner of what has been called the “Shanty of
the Communists,” at No. 58 Clybourn Avenue, known also as “Neff’s
Hall.” He was intimate with the leaders of Anarchy and knew a great
deal about their movements. On the 1st of June, Schuettler and Stift
were sent to tell him that I desired to see him. He came, not under
arrest, but voluntarily, as soon as he had secured some one to run his
saloon during his absence. He was a German, about thirty-six years
of age, unmarried, and had kept the Anarchist headquarters for over
seven years. He attended closely to business, rented his hall in the
rear of the saloon to various unions and clubs, and made plenty of
money. His place was a sort of “go-as-you-please” headquarters for the
Anarchists, and if all their plottings there had been carried into
execution the city of Chicago would not now stand as a monument of
thrift, energy, enterprise and wealth. The hall was rented to any one
who desired it. No questions were asked, and no publicity was ever
given to the proceedings through Neff. He could keep secrets, and the
Anarchists knew it. He also knew them thoroughly. He was a good judge
of character, and, as most of his patrons were low-browed, ignorant
and impulsive fellows, he would in the presence of some of the more
sensible ones call them “fools and cattle.” Neff gave up his money
freely to these people for the advancement of their cause, but he was
never known to howl against law and order or make threats against
capitalists, like other Anarchist saloon-keepers. He always kept on
friendly terms with the police, and promised Lieutenant Baus to keep
him posted whenever anything of importance transpired. This promise,
however, seems to have been shrewdly made with a view to “pulling the
wool over the eyes” of the Lieutenant. Neff would say, “Don’t trouble
yourself. Whenever there is anything going on, I will put you on;” but
he never found anything worth while reporting. The officers managed
to gather a good deal of information respecting the character of the
meetings held, but, as no important or dangerous results were ever
expected to grow out of them, the Anarchists were permitted to remain
unmolested.

On the night of May 4, after the Anarchists had been put to rout, those
of the North Side group hastened from their various posts to meet at
Neff’s place. They were still inclined to go on with the revolution,
and Neff reproached them for not continuing it the moment it was
started.

“What the d——l,” said he, “did you carry bombs for all night and not
do anything? Why didn’t you go to the Chicago Avenue Station and blow
the d——d building to h——l with every one in it?”

This staggered the hot-heads, and not one made a reply.

“Why,” continued Neff, “you are all cowards; not one of you dare go
with me now.”

No one advanced to accept the challenge. Presently, the hour getting
near eleven o’clock, Neff said:

“Get out! I am going to close up, and to-morrow we will have different
music, and we will see who dances.”

Knowing the great resort his place had been for Anarchists, Neff was in
momentary dread of becoming involved in the Haymarket affair. He was
very uneasy, and, as described by an acquaintance of his, “his clothes
and shirt collar did not fit him very well for a number of days.” When
he entered my office, Neff straightened up and appeared as if his mind
was made up for the worst and as if he had resolved that the police
should be no wiser through any information he possessed. It was not
long, however, before he discovered that we meant business, and that
playing the fool in the matter would not be tolerated. In the room were
Assistant State’s Attorney Furthmann, six detectives and myself, and
he was kept busy framing answers that would not compromise himself.
Finally Neff looked us all over very carefully and said:

“I know I am called here to answer questions and tell on the
Anarchists. I will now tell all I know.”

He then gave a straightforward story and appeared as a witness at the
trial, giving all its substantial points. After that trial he sold out
his place and left the city. He remained away for a time, but recently
came to Chicago on a visit. His conduct has been such as to justify the
hope that he will hereafter hold himself aloof from Anarchists.

JOHN WEIMAN, a Suabian, was a peculiar genius. He was only twenty-three
years of age, and yet he imagined that he could successfully hoodwink
the police. He had been pointed out as an associate of some of the
leaders, and it was decided to bring him to see what he had to say for
himself. He lived at No. 30 Barker Street, and when notified, about the
6th of June, that I wished to become acquainted with him, he assumed a
highly injured air. The moment he set foot inside the office, he threw
up both hands and, in a loud voice, insisted that a great mistake had
been made in arresting him.

[Illustration: THE “CZAR BOMB.”—FROM A PHOTOGRAPH.

This is one of the round bombs made by Lingg, and similar to the
infernal machine thrown at the Haymarket. It is about three inches in
diameter, and consists of two hollow hemispheres of lead, filled with
dynamite, and secured by means of an iron bolt and nut. It is fitted
with fuse and fulminating cap.]

“I am no Socialist, no Anarchist, no Nihilist, no Communist,” he
declared. “I don’t know Spies, Parsons, Schwab, Fischer, Lingg, Engel,
Neebe or Fielden. I never attended any meetings at No. 54, No. 71 or
No. 120 West Lake Street, and I have never been in the Communisten-Bude
[the Shanty of the Communists] at No. 58 Clybourn Avenue; never was at
Mueller’s Hall basement, or at Thalia Hall, or at No. 63 Emma Street.”

“That is right, John,” said I. “Keep on and tell me a few more places
where you have never been, and I shall be much obliged to you. Then I
will know all the places and all the leaders of the whole Anarchist
outfit.”

“Yes,” said John, “I have heard of you, and I don’t want to be troubled
too much. I know that you are acquainted with all those places and know
all the people who went there, and I heard of a lot of people getting
arrested every day who knew all the leaders and frequented those
meeting-places. I thought I would tell you all at first, because I am
sick and I can’t stand much talking-to.”

“How came you to know so much?” I inquired; “that is to say, how do you
know the names of the members?”

“Well, I have a friend, and he told me all these things, but he ran
away from the city. I don’t know where he is now.”

“What is his name and where did he live?”

“He is a carpenter. I used to call him Carl. He lived on Randolph
Street, near Union.”

Further inquiries failed to elicit anything of importance, and he was
turned loose to wander at his own sweet pleasure.

EMIL MENDE, a German, was a man thoroughly capable of desperate deeds.
He lived at No. 51 Meagher Street, and so villainous a disposition
did he possess that his own sister and his brother-in-law were
obliged to report him at the station. Even the people in his own
neighborhood feared him, and those that knew him best shunned him. He
was a dangerous man. For two months preceding May 4, he boasted how
the Anarchists would blow up the city and kill every one who was not
an Anarchist. He talked about it so often and in such an earnest way
that his neighbors grew apprehensive lest he might set fire to the
neighborhood. The children would run across the street to avoid meeting
him. He was always full of liquor, and his chief study was how to get
a living without work. He thought he had found it in Anarchy, and he
stood ready to commit any crime to accomplish his purpose. He became
a drunken loafer through attending Anarchistic meetings, and when his
sister remonstrated with him he turned against her and threatened
to kill her. His conduct finally became so unbearable that his
brother-in-law, Emil Sauer, gave information against him to the police.
Mende, he said, belonged to the Lehr und Wehr Verein of the Southwest
Side group and would assemble with his comrades in lonely, retired
places, where the police could not see them drill. They would sneak
into the buildings selected for their meeting-places, and after their
drills they would quietly sneak out again, like so many thieves who had
committed a successful burglary. Sauer said he had come to know many of
the members, but he did not know their names or where they lived. They
all had numbers, were well armed with rifles and revolvers, and they
drilled frequently.

“I remember the night of May 4,” said Sauer, “Mende left the house
about eight o’clock. He looked wild and desperate. He carried with him
a huge revolver and a lot of cartridges. About eleven o’clock the same
evening, after the bomb had exploded, he came sneaking home, and had
in his possession two rifles and three dynamite bombs. He brought them
all into the house at first, and, becoming alarmed, he took them all
to No. 647 South Canal Street. There he was seen either going under
the house or under the sidewalk. When he came out he had nothing with
him. Mende, when he first began to attend the meetings, had very little
to say about Anarchy. He kept on, and during the six months preceding
the Haymarket riot he was perfectly crazy on the subject. After he had
become a member of the armed group, he would speak of nothing else but
killing people and destroying the city. On the evening of May 4, before
leaving home, he said:

“‘This is our night. This night we will show our strength. I would like
to see any one oppose us. Nothing can stand before us. Before daylight
to-morrow blood will flow deep in the streets, and the air will be hot.
Then we will have a new government.’

“After he had been gone about twenty minutes, some one came in and
asked for him. The man looked like a starved-out cut-throat. He was
told that Mende had gone. The fellow remarked, ‘Then it is all right. I
know where to find him.’ He pulled his hat over his eyes, turned up his
coat collar and disappeared. This man was watched. He went west from
our house, and about a block away he met five other men. They all went
west together.

“On the afternoon of May 4, Mende said to me:

“‘I want you to go with us. Everything is very well planned. There
is no fear that we will not get all the help we want after we have
started. We are going to move like an army. If we should get whipped at
first, or if we should have to run, then we all have places to go to.
The Southwest Side group is going to a church on Eighteenth Street, and
we will fortify ourselves there until we get help. We will have a lot
of dynamite bombs to keep everybody away. We have rifles and revolvers,
and no one will dare come near us. We can hold the fort there for a few
days, and no one will trouble us. Only throw out a bomb once a day,
and that will be sufficient to prevent the enemy from coming near. The
North Side group is going to follow our plan. They are going to take
charge of St. Michael’s Church. We have things down fine. You had
better come along. There is no danger. We expect a lot of people here
from Michigan and all the mining towns. They will all come here as soon
as we begin the attack.’

“Mende asked me at one time to go with him,—this was during the
McCormick strike,—and told me they were going to take with them tin
cans, which would be filled with kerosene. These cans would have strong
corks in them, and through each a hole had been drilled, for the
insertion of a cap and fuse. They would simply light the fuse, throw
the can into a lumber yard, and walk off. No one would discover who did
it, and then they would see a big fire. ‘In this way we’ll bring these
d——d capitalists to time.’ I told Mende that I would have nothing to
do with him or his plans.

“Two days after the bomb had been thrown, he said to me:

“‘I know the man who threw the bomb, and, you bet, he is a good friend
of mine. He will never be arrested.’

“About eight days after the explosion, he told me that he knew the man
who made bombs, and that the man was going to leave the city. This
man, he also said, had changed his clothes, and he (Mende) had got the
clothes from a man named Sisterer, who lived on Sixteenth Street. I
then asked him the name of the man who made the bombs, and he said it
was Louis Lingg.”

Mrs. Sauer next related her grievances against her brother.

“This brute,” she began, “not being satisfied with having all the
neighbors afraid of him, had to torment the life out of me, telling me
that he belonged to those fellows who would kill, give no quarter and
take none. In a fight the result would be victory or death. He would
tell me that as soon as they had established their government the
children of the capitalists would be hunted up and killed, and every
trace of a capitalist wiped off the face of the earth. My brother reads
all kinds of Anarchist books and papers. I saw him have a big revolver
and a lot of cartridges, and he said:

“‘We are going to kill all the police now in a few days. They all must
be killed. They stand in our way. We cannot get our rights so long as
we let those bloodhounds live. So we have decided to kill them all. We
are ready now, and you will not see any more of those fellows hanging
around the corners.’

“He also said that the Fire Department was a well-organized body, and
they, too, must be destroyed.

“‘Before the battle commences,’ he said, ‘we are going to fix the
bridges with dynamite, so that, in case the Fire Department should come
to the relief of the police or go to work to extinguish the fires that
we start, we will blow the bridges, firemen, horses and all to h—l.’

“He further stated that the city would be set on fire in all parts,
so that the police and firemen would be obliged to stay in their own
neighborhoods, and it would be impossible for any large bodies of them
to get together in one place. Then, when everything was in confusion,
they had places selected where they would meet in a body and come into
the center of the city, where they would rob and plunder every jewelry
store and bank, and places where they could get the most valuable
things they wanted.

“‘We have,’ he said, ‘all these places picked out already. We have on
hand all the dynamite we want, and when we make a start we will have
our tools and materials with us.’

“A few days after the 4th of May, my brother also said that it was too
bad that their committee had become split up during the charge of the
police at the Haymarket. They failed to get together again, and the
men on the outside were expecting every second to receive orders from
that committee to commence setting fires and killing people. He stated
that on that night he was at the Hinman Street Station, and that it was
surrounded by seventy-five men, fifty of them having rifles and the
balance large revolvers and dynamite bombs. They waited in an alley
for orders. Everything, he said, was complete; every man had his place
and knew what work he had to perform. They only needed the signal from
the committee. The plan was that, as soon as they had received their
orders, some of them should get near the windows of the station and
throw in bombs among the policemen. Then others were to be ready with
their revolvers and shoot down any officer who had not been killed by
the explosion and who attempted to save himself by jumping out through
the window. The fifty men with rifles were to have placed themselves in
front of the station, and as soon as the officers made an attempt to
march out, they should kill them in the hallway before they could get
outside. ‘But,’ said he, ‘the officers at this station will be killed
yet, because they have interfered with us and injured the success of
the strikers.’

“He spoke also about their going to barricade themselves in churches
if they got whipped, until they had secured help. He said that they
had a lot of bombs buried near the city, and they were there still for
future use. ‘They will not spoil,’ he said. My brother further told me
one night that he had to run home or he would have been arrested. I saw
him come home, and he looked very much excited. He went into the back
yard—just like the coward—and remained there for some time. Later he
told me that a lot of them went together to blow up a freight-house
with dynamite bombs. This freight-house is on the corner of Meagher
and Jefferson Streets. He said that he had the place picked out, and
everything was ready. Then one of their number, who stood guard, gave
the signal to run, and they all ran away. They had a meeting-place
appointed in case they should be disturbed, and there they met
afterwards. They decided to renew the attack, but finally, at the
suggestion of a man named Sisterer, that they postpone it till another
night, they all went home. On his way home my brother thought that some
detective was following him. He became frightened and started on the
run, and ran until he arrived home safely.”

[Illustration: 1. Incendiary Bomb, with powder flask detached.

2. Gas-Pipe Bombs, without cap or fuse, but loaded with dynamite. Found
in Lingg’s room.

3. Bombs used in evidence, after analysis by chemists.

4. Gas-Pipe Bombs, with fuse and caps, secreted by Julius Oppenheimer
under a dancing-platform.

ANARCHIST AMMUNITION—1. FROM PHOTOGRAPHS.]

When a sister would tell such a story, fully corroborated by others,
of a brother, it can easily be seen that he must have been a desperate
man. It must be borne in mind that about the time Mrs. Sauer notified
me of her brother’s acts the city was wrought up to a high pitch of
excitement over the foul murder at the Haymarket, and there was a
general sentiment that all the conspirators identified with that plot
ought to hang. It required, therefore, no little courage on the part of
a sister to give up her own brother to take his chances on the charges
made.

Mende must have reached a very low, or rather a very high standing
among the bloodthirsty bandits, and the revelations concerning him
showed that he was not only capable of tormenting a poor woman by his
savage threats, but willing and anxious to distinguish himself in any
wild carnival of riot, bloodshed and incendiarism. He was a man the
police wanted, and he was accordingly arrested by Officers Whalen and
Loewenstein on the 7th of June. At the station he gave his age as
twenty-nine years, and his occupation as that of a carpenter. He was
tall, well-built, wore a heavy beard and weighed about 160 pounds. His
appearance did not belie the statements made about him, and subsequent
inquiries showed that he was all his sister had represented him to
be. What he had told his sister about the arrangements around the
Hinman Street Station was found to be strictly true, and the details
about the riot at the Haymarket and the signal to the armed men in the
outlying sections of the city were borne out by the statements of other
Anarchists.

While on his way to the station, Mende seemed perfectly indifferent
to his fate. It came out, however, that much of his stoical air had
been inspired by statements previously communicated to him by his
Anarchist associates. The attorneys of the Anarchists, Messrs. Salomon
& Zeisler, had advised the order that in case of arrest the distressed
brother should seek to notify some friend they might meet while being
taken through the streets to the station, and then, the information
being brought to them, they would at once secure a release on a writ
of _habeas corpus_. Mende acted on this advice. He knew probably, like
the rest, that, once locked up, his chances for communicating with his
friends for a day or two would be exceedingly doubtful, and so, while
he was being marched through the streets, he encountered a friend and
told him his name; and that friend immediately rushed to the office
of the attorneys and gave the name of the prisoner and the station to
which he was being taken.

Mende had scarcely been locked up when the counsel came to the
Chicago Avenue Station and demanded to see the prisoner. They were
refused. On the next day they applied for a writ of _habeas corpus_
and wanted the prisoner brought into court. The object of this was
to put me on the stand in the case, and, by various questions, to
obtain such information as the State might possess with reference to
the Anarchists. I was not to be caught in such a trap, and State’s
Attorney Grinnell decided to release the prisoner, have him indicted
and subsequently re-arrested.

During the short time Mende was at the station he was plied with
questions, but he answered them all with denials. He said that he
had never spoken to his sister about Anarchy and had never belonged
to any organization. Under cross-fire, however, he admitted that he
had attended the meetings and owned a big revolver. The revolver, he
said, he had sold to one Peter Mann about the 1st of June. After his
experience at the station he was, as might have been expected, at war
with his relatives, but he kept away from meetings.

POLIKARP SISTERER, a German Pole, was an associate of Mende, but,
unlike that rapscallion, he was not violent or demonstrative. Having
a family may have done much toward tempering his disposition, but
still he was an Anarchist in the full sense of the word. He was a
quiet, deep-plotting fellow, and perhaps on that account might be
regarded as really a more dangerous man. He was a sober man, not given
to beer-drinking and wine-guzzling like Mende; and, like Cassius of
old, had a “lean and hungry look,” bringing him within that class
concerning whom the injunction “Beware” might well be heeded in any
special crisis. He was arrested on the 8th of June by Officers Whalen
and Loewenstein and taken to the station. On the way thither he, like
Mende, communicated his troubles to friends on the street, and was
subsequently released under the same conditions. At the station he gave
his age as thirty-one years, his occupation as that of a carpenter,
and his residence as No. 85 West Sixteenth Street. He belonged, like
Mende, to the Carpenters’ Union, which met at Zepf’s Hall, and took an
active part in all Anarchistic movements. He was at first exceedingly
non-communicative to the police, and insisted, whenever he did speak,
that he had no secrets to divulge. He was shown to the “cooler” down
stairs, and the next day he was in a talkative mood. He willingly took
all the officers into his confidence and talked unreservedly. He said:

 “I belong to the Carpenters’ Union, and Louis Lingg belongs to the
 same organization. I have known Lingg for about eight months. We
 were good friends, and, after the meetings of the union were over,
 Lingg and I often went home together. I got acquainted with him at
 those meetings. Lingg was a good worker for the carpenters, and they
 all like him for the interest he displayed in their behalf. I saw
 him at our union meeting on Monday evening about eight o’clock in
 Zepf’s Hall. He made a speech there and called all of us to arms and
 to be ready. He said that the police were ready to club us and would
 only protect the capitalists and work only in the interests of the
 capitalists. ‘You can see for yourselves,’ Lingg said ‘how the police
 acted at the McCormick factory; they clubbed our people, they killed
 six of our brothers, and now we will fight them and take revenge.’
 He worked us all up, and every one was highly excited. He said that
 everything was ready and if we would only stick together we would win
 a certain victory. I saw at this meeting Hageman, Poch, Mende, Lehman,
 Louis Rentz and Kaiser. Rau and Niendorf were there and distributed
 the revenge circulars. That day—Monday—was a very exciting one among
 the Anarchists, and it would not have taken much to have started very
 serious trouble. Crowds of excited people were on Lake Street, from
 Union Street to the river, on that afternoon, and all were in bad
 temper. I attended the meeting on the afternoon of May 3d, at about
 three o’clock, at No. 71 West Lake Street, at Florus’ Hall. I never
 was at any meeting held at No. 54 West Lake Street, at Greif’s Hall,
 but I heard from others as to what had been done there. I saw Lingg
 again on the 5th of May, at Florus’ Hall. I spoke to him, but he
 had very little to say. He looked downhearted. While I was there he
 disappeared, and I never saw him again.”

“Did you not give him money and clothes to get out of the city?” I
asked.

“Well, no one can prove that. If you think I did, you had better find
your witness.”

“Do you mean to say that you did not help Lingg?”

Sisterer hung his head and would vouchsafe no answer.

He was released, as I have already stated, but since this episode
in his career, he has taken the lesson to heart and appears to be
determined to keep away from uncanny places on moonless nights.

AUGUST KRUEGER, _alias_ “Little Krueger,” was a different sort of a man
from the rest of his chosen brotherhood. He was quite an intelligent
fellow, well educated, with genteel manners, well chosen language and
rather natty dress. He was a draftsman by occupation, and he was highly
skilled. He was, with all his bloodthirsty professions, a very clever
fellow, and became quite popular with his low-browed associates. He
belonged to the Northwest Side company of the Lehr und Wehr Verein and
took great interest in the drills. His ideas, however, were somewhat
different from those of the other Anarchists. He did not believe in
riots, but thought a revolution should be brought about by a general
uprising of the people. In the old country, he had been a Socialist,
but had been obliged to leave some seven years before the time of
the Haymarket riot. Arriving here, he identified himself with the
Anarchists, and, taking a deep interest in all movements directed
against capitalists, he soon became highly esteemed by Spies and
others. He was at the Haymarket meeting, having come in the company
of Schnaubelt, the bomb-thrower, and claimed that he also left the
meeting in his company. While not in perfect accord with his associates
on isolated riots, and while he did not sanction such methods to hurt
people, Krueger still entered into their plans and worked hard for
their cause, and when Spies and others had been condemned to die
he originated a plot to release them from the jail, which, however,
failing to secure members enough to carry it out, he finally abandoned.

[Illustration: A GROUP OF THE LEHR UND WEHR VEREIN.

From a Photograph.

The figure on the extreme right is that of “Little Krueger.”]

After the Haymarket riot, Krueger was continually watched by the
detectives, and on the 13th of June he was arrested. He was found at
the Terra Cotta Works, on Clybourn and Wrightwood Avenues, and brought
to the Chicago Avenue Station. Here he showed that he had considerable
grit. He was the kind of man who would risk his life for a good chance
in a general revolution, and, although he characterized some of the
Anarchists as fools, he stubbornly refused to testify against them.
He was kept for two hours under a steady fusillade of questions by
Assistant State’s Attorney Furthmann, but he held out doggedly under
the heavy fire. He could not be made to inform. He was subsequently
released by order of the State’s Attorney. He was, when last heard
of, still working for Messrs. Parkhurst & Co., the proprietors of the
works, and appears to be well liked by them. In spite of his warning,
he still adheres to his old ideas.

His answers to the questions asked him were as follows:

 “I am twenty-one years of age. I came from Germany seven years ago. I
 reside at No. 72 Kenion Street, near Paulina. I was a member of the
 Lehr und Wehr Verein a year and a half. I know Breitenfeld. He is the
 commander of the second company of the Lehr und Wehr Verein. I am
 orderly sergeant and secretary of that company. Schrade was captain. I
 heard of the letter ‘Y’ about the first of April. We had a different
 signal. It was ‘???.’ This signal invited the armed organizations. I
 cannot say who originated the signal. The signal was then changed to
 ‘Y.’ We always met up-stairs under this signal ‘Y,’ except the last
 two meetings. I saw that letter last on Sunday preceding the riot. I
 went to that meeting at No. 54 West Lake Street (May 3) alone. I got
 to the meeting about 8:30 o’clock. I went into the saloon and then
 went down stairs. There were then only a few people present. Seeing
 that the meeting had not started, I went up stairs again. Breitenfeld
 had charge of the door. I was not asked to show my card, but I had it
 with me. It was a red card—No. 8. That is my number. We all go by
 numbers. I went down stairs again for a second time about a quarter to
 nine o’clock.”

A picture being shown him of Schnaubelt, he said:

 “I might have seen him. On Tuesday night, May 4, I was at Engel’s
 house from nine o’clock to eleven o’clock. At the meeting I know
 that Fischer volunteered to have circulars printed for the Haymarket
 meeting. I am in favor of a complete revolution—that is, when a
 majority of the people are in favor of it. I am an Anarchist, and will
 remain one as long as I live. My father was one, and he was warden of
 a penitentiary in the old country. I had to leave there because I was
 an Anarchist. I am opposed to all single attacks, like that at the
 Haymarket. I am in favor, also, of peaceable agitation. I could say
 more about others, but they are in trouble enough now. I don’t want to
 be put down as a ‘squealer.’ I hope you will not insist on my becoming
 one, as I will not.”

EMIL NIENDORF, a German, was arrested on the 14th of June, by Officers
Schuettler and Stift, and brought to the station. He had scarcely
entered the place when he demanded to see me at once. On being brought
into the office, he was asked what he wanted to say.

“Well,” opened up Niendorf, “I don’t want to be locked up here six
weeks. Neither do I want you folks to believe that I am a stubborn man.
I want to talk. I want to tell you who I am, what I have done, and I
don’t want to be looked upon as a murderer. I am an eight-hour man.
I want to get eight hours in a peaceable way. I do not want to kill
people. I have no use for those rattle-heads.”

Niendorf was informed that all the officers connected with the station
were too busy to attend to his case then, and that he would have to
remain until the next day, when he would have an opportunity to tell
all his troubles. He was locked up, but during the night, it appears,
some prisoner or some one from the outside “put a flea in his ear,”
telling him not to open his mouth, to be a brave man, and he would come
out all right. The next morning at ten o’clock he was brought into
my office, but he was not at all communicative. He sat down and said
nothing.

“Well, Niendorf, how do you feel?” asked Mr. Furthmann. “How did you
sleep?”

Not an answer.

“Are you sick?” interestedly inquired Furthmann.

No answer.

“Did any one insult you or hurt you?” continued Furthmann.

Still no response.

“Who has changed your mind since you were here?” I inquired.

Not a syllable of reply.

“See here,” said I, “you cannot make us feel bad. I will give you just
two minutes by the watch to get over your lockjaw.”

This aroused Niendorf, and, looking around at all the officers present,
he said:

“Gentlemen, I have been warned not to speak. I did not see the party,
but some one called out my name and asked if I had been to the office
yet. I answered no. The voice then said: ‘When you go there, don’t
open your mouth, be motionless, and they will soon fire you out. Don’t
forget.’”

“That is just what I expected,” I remarked. “Now you can do as you
please—talk or not talk. That party is not a friend of yours, and he
wants to see you go to jail. Officer, take him down stairs.”

“Are you not going to let me speak?” nervously inquired the prisoner.

“How long will it take you to find your speech?” exclaimed Furthmann.

“Have I got to swear to what I tell you?”

“Yes; you will have to do that whenever we send for you, and you must
not leave the city without permission,” said I.

Niendorf then gave a statement of his knowledge of Anarchy. He appeared
very ignorant, but, when spoken to, he showed that he was quite
intelligent. He was twenty-six years of age, lived at No. 29 Croker
Street, and, with fiery red hair, was a rather homely-looking man.

He was released, and after his departure the officers determined to
ascertain whether it was an “Anarchist ghost” or a man in flesh and
bones that had hovered about the station warning Niendorf not to
squeal. A close watch was accordingly put in the cell department to
fathom the mystery. About ten o’clock that night a young fellow called
at the station for a night’s lodging. He was told to sit down and wait.
He did so, and his wish was reported to me. Officer Loewenstein was
sent back to look him over, and that officer presently returned and
reported that the man did not look like a tramp. He looked more like
an Israelite who had means, and the fellow was at once called into the
office. There the officers unbuttoned his coat and discovered a clean
young fellow, with a nice suit of clothes and a gold watch and chain.

“What is your name?” I asked sternly. “And don’t forget to give it
right.”

“Oh, please,—I—I did not mean anything bad.”

“Are you not baptized; have you no name? Officer, lock him up until I
find a name for him.”

“Let me go, and I will never come here again.”

“Who sent you here?” I demanded.

“I cannot tell—do let me go. I will never, I promise you, come back
again.”

“I don’t think you will. When you leave here you will go through the
‘sewer.’”

With exclamations of great grief and remorse, he looked appealingly
to all the officers in the room, and, recognizing Officer Loewenstein
as one of his race, he fell on his knees and begged the officer not to
have him put through the “sewer.”

“Were you not here last night?” asked the Captain.

“No, sir; it was another fellow.”

The turnkey of the station was sent for and confirmed the stranger’s
denial. The now thoroughly frightened young man was then asked as to
who the lodger of the night before was, but all he knew was that he
himself had been hired by an unknown man that evening for one dollar
to come and seek lodgings at the station to warn Anarchists. When the
stranger had measurably recovered from his trepidation, he gave his
name as Moses Wulf, and, his information being of no value, he was
released with a severe lecture.

Niendorf’s statement ran as follows:

 “I was at a meeting held May 3 at 8 P.M., at No. 122 West Lake Street.
 I was chairman. I heard some one state that the police had killed a
 dozen workingmen at McCormick’s factory. That created a great deal
 of excitement for some time at the meeting. Then some one shouted:
 ‘Better be quiet and let us attend to our own affairs.’ We were only
 looking after the eight-hour movement. I saw the revenge circular
 at that meeting, which called the people to arms. Louis Lingg was
 present to report some meeting and some business transactions as a
 committeeman. William Seliger was there as recording secretary of the
 meeting. Rau was there, and some one said to me that he had brought
 the circular. A man named Soenek made a speech and advised us to use
 force. It was decided, on motion, that we should act in sympathy with
 the people at McCormick’s factory. I have been a member of the North
 Side group for about a year. I was at a meeting at Zepf’s Hall May
 3, which lasted till eleven o’clock P.M. About nine o’clock a man at
 the back door called out that all the men who belonged to the armed
 sections should go to 54 West Lake Street in the basement, where a
 meeting was to be held, and I saw a lot of members get up and leave
 the hall. I know Lingg belonged to the armed section. At one time he
 offered me some of his dynamite bombs. I told him I did not want any
 of them. He told me on another occasion that I had better take some
 and try some of his stuff. I told him that I was afraid to handle
 his stuff and I did not want it. Our meeting May 3 at Zepf’s Hall
 was known as that of the Central Labor Union. A little fellow named
 Lutz was financial secretary at that meeting. Rau was there only ten
 minutes. At a meeting held some time ago in Lake View, I was chairman.
 Lingg was one of the speakers, and also a man named Poch. Seliger
 called the meeting to order. I know Gruenwald; he is thirty-five years
 old, a carpenter by trade, five feet eight or nine inches tall, and
 has red whiskers. I heard Lingg say at several meetings that if any
 members wanted any of his ‘chocolate,’ meaning dynamite or dynamite
 bombs, he would supply them.”

JOHANNES GRUENEBERG, a German, had the distinction conferred on him
of being one of the last of the more conspicuous Anarchists to be
arrested. He had been known to the police for some time, in a general
way, and inquiries about him brought out the fact that he was a
prominent figure in Anarchistic circles. He knew where all the leaders
lived, frequently visited them, and tramped around so often that he
became quite a well-known character. Even the dogs that infested the
localities through which he passed wagged their tails in cheerful
recognition, and Grueneberg always had a kind word for both the brutes
and his Anarchist friends. He was forty-five years of age, a married
man with a family, and lived at No. 750 West Superior Street. He was
a carpenter by trade. On the 17th of June he was working on a new
building at No. 340 Dearborn Avenue, and, while right in the midst of
an exhortation to the other workingmen on the beauties of Anarchy, he
was interrupted by Officers Hoffman and Schuettler, who notified him
that he was under arrest.

“That is just what I have been waiting for,” he exclaimed, not in the
least disconcerted. “Is it that d——d Schaack that wants to see me? I
will tell that fellow who I am. I will surprise him.”

“Johannes,” said Schuettler, “you can save yourself all of that
trouble. Schaack knows all about you. I saw your name in the book.”

“Come on quick,” said Johannes, “I will show you a gamy man. Whenever
I leave home I always bid my wife good-by, because I have expected to
be arrested at any time, and did not know when I would see her again,
for I will not squeal. I knew of these squealers, and I told my wife I
would kill myself first before I would squeal.”

Officers and prisoner started for the station. Johannes opened up on a
half run, and the officers could hardly keep up with him, so anxious
did he appear. He entered the office with hair disordered and on end,
and his eyes bulged out with excitement as he hurriedly surveyed some
six officers who were in the office at the time.

“Which one of you fellows,” he wildly asked, “is Schaack? Show him to
me quick.”

“Grueneberg,” said I, for I recognized him at once from the
descriptions I had had of the man, “what is the matter?”

“Are you Schaack?”

“Yes, I am Schaack.”

“You sent for me to squeal, did you?”

He instantly pulled out a big jack-knife, and, handing it out towards
me, he continued:

“Take this and cut my head off.”

He twice repeated the request, and, still holding out his extended
hand, said:

“I will never squeal; you can kill me first.”

“I heard that you were crazy,” said I, “but I never thought you were
quite so bad as this. You must suffer terribly. The weather is too
warm for you. I think you had better go down stairs and have a glass
of ice water.”

“No,” vehemently responded Johannes, “we had better settle this matter
right now. I want to go out a free man, or else you will have to carry
me out of here a dead man. I would thank you, however, for a glass of
water, but don’t put me down stairs. I have heard too much of that
place already.”

“Oh,” said I, “it is not a bad place. Just go down and see for
yourself. You will like the place; it is nice and cool.”

“Please, Captain, let me sit in the next room,” said Johannes, cooling
down considerably, and modulating his voice to a gentler key; “I will
behave myself.”

His austerity of manner had completely vanished, and his ferocious mien
and language had gradually disappeared. He saw in me a different man
from what he had expected, and the courteous treatment accorded him had
melted his heart and vanquished his anger. I granted his request and
told an officer to sit with him in an adjoining room.

The moment the officer and prisoner were in the room, Johannes remarked:

“Schaack is not a bad fellow. Is he not going to stop arresting people?”

“Oh, no,” said the officer, “he has a long list yet.”

“Are you with him all the time?”

“I am.”

“Do you hear and see all?”

“I do.”

“Do the fellows all squeal?”

“Yes, every one of them. If they don’t squeal right away, they squeal
the first chance they get.”

“I am too much of a man, and it would be very small in me to do so.”

“There have been as brave men as you in this office, and every one has
squealed.”

“Well, when a man has a family, that cuts a big figure,” said Johannes,
hesitatingly.

“If you are going to talk to Captain Schaack,” said the officer,
reading the man’s mind, “you must understand that he does not want
any fooling. You either tell him all or nothing, because some one has
already told on you.”

This settled the matter with Grueneberg. He wanted to see me, and he
was brought back into the office.

“I was a little excited,” began Johannes, apologetically.

“All right,” I assuringly replied; “sit down and tell on yourself
first. I am going to give you a trial.”

Grueneberg then went on to say:

 “Well, I am an Anarchist. I always worked hard for the working people.
 I am proud of it. I did good as long as I could, but now it is all
 up. I am a member of the Northwest Side group and always attended our
 meetings. I never missed one.

 “On Monday night, May 3, I attended a meeting at Zepf’s Hall. I
 remained there until about 9:15 o’clock. From there I went to Greif’s
 Hall. This was a secret meeting of the armed men. While the meeting
 continued all the doors were kept locked, and guards stood on the
 outside of each door, and also on the inside, and extra guards on the
 sidewalk. If any one stopped on the sidewalk, he would be told to move
 on. I heard Engel speak of his plan; that it was a good one. If only
 every one would do his work, then the matter would be a very easy
 one of accomplishment. He stated that the plan had been made up last
 Sunday at 63 Emma Street, and had already been adopted by the Lehr und
 Wehr Verein and the groups. All who had heard of the plan, he said,
 were very much in favor of it, and all understood by this time how to
 act. ‘We are,’ he continued, ‘going to do this right, because all the
 boys look to us as the leaders, and we are going to call a meeting for
 to-morrow night at the Haymarket. Since all the people are excited, we
 will have a large crowd, and we will have things so shaped that the
 police will interfere. Then will be the chance to give it to them! I
 could notice by the acts of all present at this meeting that there was
 a great deal of bad blood among them against the police on account of
 the killing of so many people at McCormick’s.”

“Do you now believe that a single person was killed at McCormick’s?”

“Of course I do. You killed six men.”

“Not one was killed,” said I, “and you ought to know that by this time.”

“All I know,” said Johannes, “is what August Spies said. I was a
carrier of the _Anarchist_, Engel’s paper. My route was on Madison
Street, and on the Southwest Side,” he continued, dropping the 54 West
Lake Street meeting.

“And what did you think of that paper?” I inquired.

“That was the best paper we ever had.”

“It was too bad,” added I, “that the sweet little paper died so young.
Where was it printed?”

“I don’t know, because the papers were sent to my house by the
Southwest Side group.”

“Who else carried that paper?”

“Messerschmidt, Schneider, Schoenfeld, Geimer and Kirbach. We each
carried about fifty papers at a time.”

“Do you know anything more about the secret meeting at No. 54 West Lake
Street, May 3d?”

“Well, I don’t know all. I went out twice.”

“And how did you get in every time?”

“I had a card, and I had to show that every time. That is all, and,
besides, the boys all knew me.”

“What do you know about Louis Lingg?”

“He is a good man. I like him. He speaks to the point.”

“On dynamite,” I suggested.

“Yes, and on other things.”

“He only likes Anarchists,” I interrupted.

“Yes, that is so.”

“What do you know about the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_?”

“Well, it is a very good paper, but it is too mild.”

“Do you mean to tell me that a paper which advises people to murder and
kill is too mild?” I asked.

“They don’t put force enough into it. They don’t keep up things as they
ought to. I know all who visit there. I am a friend of all the Spieses.”

After being “roasted” for three hours, Johannes was permitted to go
back to his work, and he left under the impression that, after all,
he had not said anything criminally implicating any of his comrades.
He was not asked to report when wanted, as he was too noisy a fellow
to have around the station, and the officers were as well pleased to
see him go as they had been pleased to arrest him. He inaugurated
no reform on his release. On the contrary, he was again as rabid as
ever and ran around night and day trying to gather a mob to go to the
jail and liberate the Anarchists. He made no secret of his work. He
loved the red flag, he said, and he would die for it if necessary. One
night he came to me in company with two other fellows and demanded the
return of a large red flag which at one time belonged to International
Carpenters’ Union No. 1. This flag had been taken by the police with
many others some time before. Grueneberg said that he had marched
behind it many times and he was proud of it. He wanted to see the “dear
old flag” once more and secure possession of it. I had the flag at
the station, but, knowing that Anarchists had an “undying love” for
Inspector Bonfield, I remarked:

“If you want the flag, all you have to do is to see the Inspector, and
I am quite sure he will give it to you.”

An expression of intense disgust came over the faces of the three
Anarchists, and Grueneberg excitedly exclaimed:

“Bonfield! Bonfield! Ah, the d——d black Bonfield! I see _him_? Oh,
no! he is not gentleman enough for me to see.”

“Bonfield is a very clever fellow,” said I; “he likes such men as you.”

“Oh, yes; he would like my head in a bag. Good night, Mr. Schaack; I
don’t want the flag.”

Grueneberg belonged at this time to Carpenters’ Union No. 241, and, on
account of his peculiar and ridiculous actions, the members gradually
grew suspicious of him and finally believed that he was a paid spy
in the employ of some detective agency. They harbored their mistrust
for a time, and then accused him of being a traitor. He demanded that
charges be preferred against him, and it was done. Grueneberg failing
to answer these charges, he was expelled from the union. A few weeks
thereafter he reformed, and one day, meeting me, he said:

“I am done with these people. They are all cranks. No person can do
enough for them. I worked with them night and day. They put me on all
the committees. I had to do all the running, and for all my trouble and
as a reward they call me a spy. I am working steady now and they can
all go to the d——l. I am only sorry for my poor children—the way
they suffered while I was giving my time to Anarchy. I have now worked
four weeks and made full time. This I have not done before for the last
two years.”

About two months after the above incident, Grueneberg and his family
passed the Desplaines Street Station. Meeting me, Grueneberg spoke up,
saying:

“Well, Captain, what do you think of my family now?”

“I must give you a great deal of credit,” said I pleasantly. “You are
all looking remarkably well. A man that has gone as far as you in
Anarchy deserves credit for such a great change, and if all the rest
were kicked out of their unions, I think it would be a blessing to
their poor wives and children.”

After bidding me good-by, Grueneberg and his family walked away proud
and happy in their new condition, and I went to my office and drew this
moral from the example of reform I had just seen: Here was a man who
had belonged to the Anarchists for three or four years, and had been
at one time one of the “rankest” kind. For two years his family had
suffered want, and now, after having left the desperate band for two
months only, his wife and children were once more made happy. Anarchy
keeps men in poverty and families in trouble, distress and suffering.

Grueneberg up to the present time has kept away from his former
associates, and his change appears permanent and sincere.

OTTO BAUM was one of the desperate Anarchists who made the air blue
with imprecations against capital. He would have been gathered in with
the others had it not been for his special care to keep out of the
reach of the police. He lived at No. 137 Cleveland Avenue, was married
and had three children, and, when he worked, which he rarely did, it
was at the carpenter’s trade. He was a strong, robust man, nearly six
feet high, and with black hair, full, black beard, and piercing black
eyes, he presented a rather vicious appearance. When he first came to
Chicago, some four years preceding the Haymarket meeting, he joined the
Socialists, and he soon became a full-fledged Anarchist. He belonged
to the notorious International Carpenters’ Union No. 1. This union had
then a thousand members, and Baum’s number was 100. About two years
ago the union changed its number to 241, and a worse set of Anarchists
could not be found in the United States than the members of this
organization just before the 4th of May, 1886. They were provided with
all kinds of arms—revolvers, daggers, rifles, dynamite and fire-cans.
Lingg was one of the leading spirits in this revolutionary gang. After
the Haymarket explosion, when the police took up a hot pursuit of the
conspirators, Baum changed his residence with his family and carefully
kept off the streets during the daytime. On the conclusion of the trial
of the leading conspirators, he became emboldened over the immunity he
had enjoyed from arrest, and crawled out of his hole, like a coon does
in the spring-time.

So great was Baum’s interest in Anarchy that he wholly neglected his
family. He never troubled himself about wife or children, but hung
around saloons guzzling beer and breathing vengeance against the police
and society. He went lower and lower from day to day, and frequently
reeled home in a drunken stupor, only to abuse his family. About a year
and a half ago, when his last child was born, his neglect had left not
a mouthful in the house, and, had it not been for the kindly assistance
of friends and neighbors, the family would have been in a most
deplorable condition. When the child was a week old, the wife, poor and
sickly as she was, had to leave the house and seek work to supply the
family with the necessaries of life. With food thus obtained, almost at
the sacrifice of the poor woman’s life, the burly brute of a husband
was always first at the table, and eagerly devoured what she had
provided. Did he seek to obtain employment? Not at all. He preferred
loafing and talking about Anarchy. The poor wife’s uncomplaining toil
he rewarded with abuse and cruelty, calling her the vilest of names,
and even kicking her about as if she were made of rubber. She was a
delicate, sickly woman, but she bore his fiendish treatment, hoping
that a change would come over him after the law had made an example
of other Anarchists. But the change did not come, and finally she
determined to seek the protection of the courts. Accordingly she went
to the Chicago Avenue Police Court on the 6th of February, 1888, with
her infant in her arms, and swore out a warrant against her husband.

The lazy giant was at once arrested, and on the next morning the poor
woman appeared to testify against him. Being unable to speak English,
an interpreter was called, and during the recital of her grievances and
the many indignities imposed upon her by her liege lord, the court-room
was as quiet almost as a death-chamber. All eagerly listened to her
troubles, and, her statements being given in such a simple, convincing
manner, many eyes were moist with tears. Justice Kersten, who presides
over this court, has no regard for wife-beaters, and he promptly fined
Baum $50.

“That,” said he, in an emphatic manner, “will keep you locked up for
one hundred and three days.”

The brute was then locked up where so many of his former associates had
been incarcerated two years previously, and in the afternoon he was
sent to the House of Correction by Bailiff Scanlan.

During this episode it came out that Baum had been quite active in
Anarchist circles, and at the time the Anarchists were confined in the
County Jail he was engaged in an attempt to gather a mob to effect
their liberation. One night he went about saying that he was determined
to kill somebody before the next morning. The more he talked, the more
frenzied he became, and with his frenzy grew his thirst for liquor,
the need of which he felt to get up his courage to the required pitch.
A few hours afterwards he was found in the yard fronting his house,
asleep and “dead drunk.” The only courage he ever displayed was in
lording it over his wife and beating her almost to death. He was a type
of a very large class of Anarchists. He would call the better class of
people tyrants, because they did not fill his pockets with plenty of
money so that he could get drunk as often as he desired, but in his own
household he was the meanest of tyrants.

[Illustration: THE WIFE-BEATER’S TRIAL.]

Had Mrs. Baum been a little shrewder, she would not have had to endure
his brutalities as long as she did. There are many other wives of
Anarchists who are ill-treated by their husbands, but some of these
managed to bring their lords to their senses by a neat ruse. While
the investigations into the deeds of the Anarchists were going on the
bandits would almost crawl into a sewer to get out of the way of
the police, and, noticing the timely fright that overcame the “reds”
whenever an officer or detective appeared in their midst, many shrewd
wives quieted wrathful husbands by threatening to go out and see me.
This ruse, I learn, was often resorted to to avert a beating from a
drunken Anarchist.

GUSTAV POCH was a conspicuous figure in Anarchist plots, and never
tired of working for the cause. But Anarchists are an anxious, jealous
and thankless lot of people, and because Gustav was achieving a little
more prominence than some of his immediate associates, they found fault
with him and sought to degrade him. They might have secretly given
him away to the police, and thus got him out of the way of their own
advancement, but a fear for their own safety prevented such a course,
and so they began calling him hard names. But I shall let Gustav state
his own grievance. Here is a letter he wrote to his union:

  CHICAGO, September 10, 1884.

 At a meeting held on the 3rd of September, instant, of Branch No. 2,
 of Union No. 21, Carpenters and Joiners, the Secretary read a letter
 in which I, the undersigned, was insulted in a shameful manner. In
 this letter they called me a swindler simply for the purpose of
 breaking up the Union, and at the end of the letter they stated that
 I would be expelled from the Union on account of it. The letter was
 signed by Fr. Ebert and Dom. All these insults and injuries to my
 reputation I can’t let pass. My honor, my reputation and my future
 prosperity are damaged and at stake. I would, therefore, move that an
 investigation be made into the matter and that the instigators of the
 complaint be punished. What was their motive? For the last few weeks
 complaints have been made against me by the Secretary to the effect
 that I, as Acting Secretary, had made false entries on the books. As
 he could not exonerate himself in the eyes of my brothers, he drew
 up the letter, which was published at the meeting of September 3rd,
 and which was signed by Fritz Ebert and Dom, to put me in a bad light
 before the Union. The evidence: Fritz Ebert told me in the presence
 of John Zwirlein that the main object out of which this accusation
 originated was the following: I was selected by President Blair on the
 3rd of May to the Main Committee in place of Brother Eppinger, who
 could not serve on account of having too much other work while the
 strike lasted. After that I held this position nineteen days. I got
 paid for twelve days, and they withheld seven days from me and said
 I was discharged from the Main Committee. Is there anything to show
 that I was expelled? Of course I put in my claim for $21 in writing,
 and no one ever told me what became of this claim. I was the only
 German-speaking representative on the Strike Committee, and I had
 to do more labor than any one else. Any one who participated in the
 strike during the last seven days can confirm this assertion. Now, how
 can Mr. Printer put up such a letter and show me up as a swindler?

 In consequence of the insults inflicted on me, I beg for an
 investigation and for his punishment according to the rules and
 regulations of the Brotherhood.

  GUSTAV POCH.



CHAPTER XVIII.

 The Plot against the Police—Anarchist Banners and Emblems—Stealing
 a Captured Flag—A Mystery at a Station-house—Finding the
 Fire-cans—Their Construction and Use—Imitating the Parisian
 Petroleuses—Glass Bombs—Putting the Women Forward—Cans and Bombs
 Still Hidden Among the Bohemians—Testing the Infernal Machines—The
 Effects of Anarchy—The Moral to be Drawn—Looking for Labor
 Sympathy—A Crazy Scheme—Gatling Gun _vs._ Dynamite—The Threatened
 Attack on the Station-houses—Watching the Third Window—Selecting a
 Weapon—Planning Murder—The Test of Would-be Assassins—The Meeting
 at Lincoln Park—Peril of the Hinman Street Station-house—A Fortunate
 Escape.


IN the numerous arrests and raids made, the police became thoroughly
acquainted with the most notorious Anarchists in the city, the ins
and outs of their resorts, and even the interior arrangement of their
dwelling-places. Not only were suspects arrested, but search was made
for contraband articles. A varied collection of arms, bombs, etc., and
a large assortment of red bunting thus found their way to the Chicago
Avenue Station. In all the public demonstrations made by the Anarchists
in the city they had carried many flags, banners and transparencies as
emblems of defiance, and whenever such were found they were carefully
taken in charge. When the investigations were concluded, the inner
room of my private office was well filled with a most curious display
of these time-worn and weather-beaten ensigns, and the collection is
very interesting as a reminder of a critical period in the history of
Chicago. There are flags of a very primitive and cheap description,
and flags more or less elaborate and expensive. They varied in size
and differed in the degree of their crimson colors. Those belonging to
groups were large and plain, showing frequent handling by dirt-begrimed
hands, and were mounted on plain pine staffs. Those carried by the Lehr
und Wehr Verein were of finer texture and larger in size, its principal
standard, of silk, being a present from the female revolutionists
and gorgeous in the amplitude of its folds. This silken standard was
the pride and joy of the whole fraternity, and at one time it served
to relieve the motley collection with its bright vermilion, but in
some unaccountable manner it disappeared one day from a West Side
police station. The reds had evidently set their hearts on recapturing
it, and by some sort of legerdemain they succeeded. Who it was that
accomplished the deed has never been disclosed, and in whose custody it
is now is a profound secret, carefully kept by the Anarchists.

The men who were always relied upon to carry these flags in the
processions of the reds were Ernst Hubner, Appelman, Paul Otto,
Stohlbaum, W. Hageman, Seliger, Lutz, Gustav Lehman, Paul Lehman, and
Mrs. Parsons, Mrs. Holmes and some other women, and possibly some
of these may know something of the mysterious disappearance of the
Anarchists’ chief standard.

[Illustration: AN INCENDIARY CAN.—FROM A PHOTOGRAPH.

This is a tin can filled with petroleum, and provided with a small
powder flask, secured in the center by means of a screw-top, which also
serves to hold the fuse in position. Numbers of these cans were found.
They were intended for setting fire to buildings and other property.]

During the searches by the department for other suspicious and
inflammatory articles, several fire-cans were found in the northwest
part of the city, on the 3d of June, by Officer Whalen. In exterior
appearance these looked very harmless, but an examination of their
contents showed them capable of doing a great deal of mischief. They
each had a capacity of a quart, and were made of medium heavy tin, with
a round hole in the center of the top, about an inch in diameter. This
opening was provided with a threaded neck of tin about an inch high,
with a cover to fit. Underneath the cover was a sort of clasp, into
which fitted the neck of a small vial, and through the cover a small
hole was bored, for the admission of a fuse into the vial. When ready
for use the can would be filled with an explosive or with coal-oil,
and the flask would contain powder. All that then remained would be to
light the fuse, throw the can either into a lumber-yard or under the
stairway of some residence or business block, and no one would know the
perpetrator of a possibly disastrous fire. The cans found by Officer
Whalen were loaded and had evidently been intended for use on the night
of May 4. Fortunately the owner must have become frightened and hid
them to escape arrest.

The suggestion for the manufacture of these cans came from across
the water. A short time preceding May 4, at a meeting held in Thalia
Hall, a few Frenchmen and several Germans, who had passed through the
reign of the Commune in Paris in 1871, gave a general idea of the
important part such cans had played in that city and added that women
at that time did as good work with them as the men. Such fire-cans,
together with glass balls filled with nitro-glycerine, were carried in
baskets, and if the reds wanted to destroy a building they would throw
a can through the window, or if they desired to annihilate a guard of
soldiers they would hurl into their midst one of the glass balls, which
would explode by concussion and tear the men to pieces.

These missiles had created great havoc in Paris, and the members of the
Thalia Hall gathering were urged to adopt them for use in Chicago. At
that time there were enough desperate Anarchists in the city to have
used all that could have been manufactured, but some of the men at the
meeting insisted that the women should be asked to assist in disposing
of them to the destruction of the town. One big, loud-mouthed fellow,
evidently a coward, shouted:

“My wife will do that. She is an Anarchist as good as any one of us.”

No doubt she was an Anarchist, as the city had a great many of these
poor, deluded creatures at the time, who were willing to do almost
anything their husbands might ask, but many of whom have since had
occasion to feel the poverty into which they were finally forced
by men who neglected work, family and all for the sake of talking
revolution.

Many of these men were just cowardly enough to thrust their wives
forward where danger lurked, and while they themselves enjoyed the
safety of a groggery, they would have been pleased, “for principle’s
sake,” to see their poor helpmeets go around and set fire to houses and
other property, so that the dauntless husbands could brag of the brave
achievements of “the family.”

The meeting in question must have set the Anarchists to thinking; and
it is a matter of record that Parsons had fallen into the same idea
when he addressed a secret meeting on the North Side, to which I shall
subsequently refer. It is certain that many of these fire-cans were
manufactured.

Besides the petroleum-cans discovered by Officer Whalen, a lot of the
same kind were taken out of the city by way of West Lake Street on May
7, when the Anarchists were hurrying their ammunition out of town to
prevent detection. According to the statements of some reformed reds,
there are a great many of these cans and bombs still concealed in the
Bohemian settlement in the southwest part of the city.

On the 8th of June, 1886, I decided to have the cans tested, and for
this purpose detailed Officers Rehm and Coughlin. The latter had at
one time been a miner, and was therefore experienced in the use of
explosives. The two officers took one of the cans to the lake shore.
The can was placed on a plot of grass and the fuse lighted. In eight
seconds an explosion followed. The grass burned within a circumference
of five feet. The flame extended four feet in height and continued for
about three minutes. The officers gave it as their opinion that any one
of the cans was sufficient to set a building on fire.

What a blessing it was for our citizens that this devilish invention
did not spread its destructive work before May 4, 1886.

As stated at the outset, the police were brought, in all these raids,
into close acquaintanceship with the malcontents, and often came in
close contact with their families. Some of the sights they saw were
shocking in the extreme, and they had many opportunities to sound the
depths of misery and want entailed upon families by husbands gone daft
on Anarchy. The tales of woe and domestic infelicity poured into their
ears would fill many pages, but the general tenor of all can be judged
by what has been revealed in the statements given in the preceding
chapters.

Anarchy may look extremely inviting when depicted by a plausible
speaker, but its practical side is strikingly brought out in the home
life of its devotees. Any one visiting the homes of Anarchists, and
carefully contrasting the surroundings with those of true laboring men
not affected by the taint of revolution, would give Anarchy a wide
berth. But unfortunately men get their brains turned over sophistical
arguments against capital and madly rush to ruin without thinking of
consequences until it is too late. Read the reports made to me at the
time, and they all tell the same story of want and degradation.

[Illustration: HENRY SPIES. From a Photograph.]

There always has been and always will be a fascination about any scheme
that promises ease without labor. So long as men can be found with
impressionable minds that can be swayed by demagogues into a belief
that Anarchy has in it the elements of comfort, splendor and luxury
with very little toil, so long, no doubt, will dupes be found ready
to sacrifice energy, thrift and independence for the life-degrading
scarlet banner. But such ease can never be attained through blood in
the United States. That fact has been established in Chicago, and the
precedent ought to serve as a terrible warning to all malcontents. If
the abject want of those who constitute the bulk of the revolutionists,
whose very squalor has been the result of their zeal for Anarchy, is
not sufficient to deter men from becoming Anarchists, the fate of the
eight conspirators who were brought to trial in Chicago ought at least
to prevent men from plotting murder, incendiarism and pillage.

With the tremendous odds against them, it is surprising that men could
be found willing to take up arms for the destruction of life and
property, and the action of the reds in Chicago can be explained only
on the theory that they felt they had only to strike one severe blow to
bring thousands of secret sympathizers into line, and cause capitalists
to humble themselves in the dust before the Social Revolution. This
theory is borne out by the statements of the many repentant Anarchists
who came under the displeasure of the police. In their excited
gatherings they had each propped up the hopes and spirits of the
others, and all reason was sunk in the one frenzied, consuming desire
to wreak vengeance upon those who had accumulated more wealth than
themselves. They were bent on wresting away the wealth of others, and
no mercy was to be shown to those who stood between them and that end.

The police, as protectors of wealth in property and property in wealth,
were the immediate objects of their enmity and wrath, and throughout
the Anarchistic conspiracy, as has been shown by the disclosures made,
we were to receive their first and special attention before the grand
onslaught upon capitalists. Crazed by their speakers and dazed with
the glittering prospect held out to them, the human fiends proposed to
exterminate us with dynamite and then vanquish the rich and abolish all
forms of property.

Could anything be more absurd? And yet that is what they sought to
accomplish on the eventful night of May 4th.

It would seem that the scheme to blow up the police stations could only
originate in a lunatic asylum, but the confessions of those arrested
show that men with apparently sound minds—minds at least sane enough
to keep them out of such institutions—actually contemplated it and had
made all the necessary arrangements to execute the plot. Strange must
have been their conceptions of public sentiment when they believed that
the execution of their bloody plan would result in the establishment
of wider and freer social conditions, and strange, indeed, must have
been their hallucinations when they thought that the devastation they
proposed would be seconded and aided by the laboring men whom they
counted upon as secret sympathizers ready to reveal their true feelings
the moment the revolution was generally inaugurated.

The danger of the scheme to themselves did not strike them until the
last moment, when their courage was to be put to a practical test, but,
fortunately for themselves, they went no further than the Haymarket
riot.

That they seriously contemplated more than they perpetrated is beyond
dispute. They saw the intense excitement consequent on the eight-hour
strike and the troubles at McCormick’s factory, and knew that the
police stations would be filled with officers in readiness for
emergencies. They had called the Haymarket meeting for the express
purpose of provoking hostilities, and they regarded it as an opportune
time to strike a terrible blow against the police all over the city.
Their calculations in that respect were eminently correct.

The moment the reds began to incite a vicious mob to deeds of
bloodshed, hostilities were provoked, and they got a dose of their own
medicine. Had it not been for their precipitate flight they would have
fared far worse. All the police stations were full of men, all the
reserves having been called out for duty on the first sign of violent
demonstrations, and these stood ready to make short work of all who
might stand up against them in a conflict. It was fortunate for the
conspirators that they considered “discretion the better part of valor”
at the Haymarket, and doubly fortunate that they received no signal to
commence their bloody operations at the stations.

The loss of life no doubt would have been appalling on both sides, but
the outcome, as far as the triumph of law and order is concerned, would
have been the same. The bomb would have done deadly work at the start,
but the Gatling gun would have come to the rescue had the police been
seriously crippled.

Missiles of dynamite hurled into the stations on that eventful night
of May 4 would indeed have created terrible havoc. In fact, the reds
could not have chosen a time more favorable for their bloody plans. The
East Chicago Avenue Station that night contained a very large force. I
had in reserve and waiting orders one hundred and twenty-five officers.
They were all over the building, up and down stairs, in the court-room,
in the reception-room and in every other available place. Many were in
the office, which is used as a roll-call room, and in which all details
of officers are made. This office is in the center of the building and
overlooks an alley on the east. The officers were organized into five
companies, and all duly numbered. Any company could be called at any
time, and in less than five minutes it would be in marching order.

This precaution was taken in expectation of a call to the Haymarket,
and the Anarchists, in the damnable conspiracies of that evening, had
anticipated such preparations. They were accordingly on the ground.
Fifteen members of the North Side group, as appears plainly from the
confessions of some of the Anarchists, loitered around the station,
waiting for orders or signal, or to abide their own pleasure as soon as
they could see for themselves that the riot had begun on the West Side.
When that time arrived, they were to watch the windows of the roll-call
room from the alley and throw their infernal machines into the midst of
the officers the moment the room was full.

The cut-throats skulked around the station like so many Indians
around the cabin of a helpless settler, constantly dodging around in
the darkness, fearful that they might be discovered. True to their
instincts, however, these Chicago reds could not do without their beer
while awake, and they made frequent trips to neighboring beer-saloons.
About 9:30 o’clock Lieut. Baus and Lieut. Lloyd, each with a company of
officers, returned from the Central Station, where I had sent them as a
reserve during the Haymarket meeting, and when the Anarchists saw them
in the roll-call room of my station, they sneaked around on the dark
side of the alley and selected the third and fourth windows as those
through which their deadly bombs should crash on their destructive
mission. These windows are in the center of the large room. They had
with them a number of bombs, both of the round lead and the long
gas-pipe variety. While they stood underneath those windows, they got
into a whispered quarrel about the kind of bomb that should be used.

Bock had a round lead bomb, and he said:

“I don’t think this will go off. Let one of you throw a larger bomb.”

Then Abraham Hermann became angry and said:

“You d——d fool, what the d——l are you here for, if your d——d
bombs are no good? You are too much of a coward to throw them.”

Just at this point two officers left the station to visit a
cigar-store, and stopped for a moment at the entrance of the alley to
finish their conversation.

The Anarchists saw them, and, thinking that they had been discovered,
they hurriedly made their exit in an opposite direction, running to the
rear of the building on its dark side and then emerging on Superior
Street. Some of them went over to the West Side, to the Haymarket
meeting, and others sought different saloons on Clark Street.

[Illustration: THE LARRABEE STREET STATION.

From a Photograph.]

After frequent libations, some met again on Superior Street in the
vicinity of a wagon-manufacturing establishment, and, under the cover
of numerous wagons standing on the street between Clark Street and
La Salle Avenue, they decided that the men who then had bombs should
proceed to the call-room windows, and the others, with revolvers,
should take position in the alley diagonally across from the entrance
of the station. Then, at the proper signal, the bombs were to be hurled
into the room, and the men across the way were to fire a volley into
such officers as might come out.

While this plan was being formed, I received an order from Inspector
Bonfield to send all my men to the West Side double-quick, ready for
action, with a hurried explanation of the riot and the killing of
officers, and in less than four minutes I had seventy-five men on
the way to the Haymarket. The Anarchists were still standing among
the wagons, and, to their great surprise and dismay, they saw three
patrol wagons passing with a tremendous speed. Their hearts at once
fell into their boots, and they knew that the trouble had commenced.
They repaired to Moody’s church and remained there a few moments
deliberating what should be done. One of them tried to brace up the
flagging spirits of his comrades by saying that “now the time had
arrived when something must be done, but they must never tell of their
being there.” Not one, however, seemed willing to execute the plot
they had agreed upon. On the contrary, they turned up La Salle Avenue
and ran to Neff’s Hall as fast as their legs could carry them. What
occurred at that hall that night I have already shown in a preceding
chapter.

The plan to throw bombs into the roll-call room was afterwards unfolded
to me by one of those in the plot, and, had it not been for the two
officers accidentally stopping at the entrance of the alley, many of
the boys of the Fifth Precinct would have been murdered even before the
commencement of the riot at the Haymarket. The ruffians who hung around
that station were Abraham Hermann, Lorenz Hermann, the two Hageman
brothers, Habizreiter, Heineman, Charles Bock, Heumann, and others from
the North Side group and Lake View.

Another station in great danger that night was that on Larrabee Street,
in charge of Lieut. John Baus, with forty-eight officers. It is located
on the northwest corner of Larrabee Street and North Avenue, and is
a two-story brick building with a basement. This basement contains
a cell-room located in the center of the building, with windows on
the North Avenue side, and that side was chosen for the scene of
operations. The men especially relied upon to blow up this building
were Lingg, Seliger, Muntzenberg, Huber, Thielen and Hirschberger, and
they, together with other members of the North Side group, lingered in
the vicinity, loaded with bombs, and waiting only to see “the heavens
illuminated” or to receive a message from one of the runners. But
before they knew what had transpired at the Haymarket a patrol wagon
dashed out of the station and whizzed by with a load of officers. This
dazed them, and they hurried to Neff’s Hall to learn particulars and
receive new instructions. When they got there Neff told them that they
were all a set of cowards and advised them to go home. They took his
advice and were glad to crawl back into their holes.

Webster Avenue Station, in charge of Lieut. Elias E. Lloyd, with
forty-four officers, also received attention. The building is a
two-story frame located on the north side of the street, near Lincoln
Avenue, and its principal apartment, the roll-call room, is on the
first floor facing the street. The men especially assigned to the
destruction of this station were Ernst Hubner, Gustav Lehman, Otto
Lehman, Jebolinski and Lange, backed by several other frowsy and
low-skulled sneaks, and these hovered around the station, hiding in
dark recesses whenever some one casually passed along the sidewalk, or
dodging into an alley whenever an officer was discovered approaching
them. They all waited for “the signal which never came,” and, getting
tired of stimulating each other with a courage they did not possess,
they finally concluded to adjourn to Neff’s Hall. Whenever, on the
way to that place, one upbraided the other for not throwing a bomb,
each would point to the fact that the area in front of the building
was always occupied by officers sitting in easy chairs and sniffing
the evening breeze, and there was no chance to get near the cell-room;
but they all promised one another that they would go back and blow
the building into smithereens and the officers into shreds of flesh,
regardless of personal consequences, if they should hear “good news” at
Neff’s. But they did not go back. Lieut. Lloyd was not called on for
assistance at the Haymarket until about eleven o’clock, and by that
time the cowards had got their information at Neff’s and were glad for
an excuse to make a “bee line” for home, if the hovels they lived in
can be dignified by that designation.

[Illustration: THE SCHILLER MONUMENT.

From a Photograph.]

There is no doubt that these wretches would have blown up the station
if the police had dispersed the Haymarket meeting earlier in the
evening, but by waiting so long they lost what little courage they
had. There was no patrol wagon attached to this station at that time,
but, as one of them told me afterwards, the Anarchists stood ready to
hurl a bomb into a street-car had the officers come out earlier to
take the cars in order to hasten to the assistance of the force at
the Haymarket. They intended to make their work complete, and they
were all well provided with bombs, even though they were rather short
on courage. This was a part of the gang which had an appointment at
Lincoln Park, only five blocks from the station, and some of them
sought there early in the evening for a large number of recruits who
failed to materialize when danger was in sight.

The spot chosen for the meeting-place in Lincoln Park was at
“Schiller’s Denkmal” (monument). Here it was that a few gathered, but,
not finding as many present as they expected, they separated to the
several localities assigned them for the execution of their plot.

It will be recalled that, at the Monday night meeting preceding the
Haymarket riot, those living on the North Side were ordered to report
at Lincoln Park for definite instructions, and those on the West Side
at Wicker Park, and the order seems to have been obeyed by a few of the
more courageous Anarchists.

The vicinity of the Schiller monument was the place also where those
who had been arrested and had made confessions met, along with other
Anarchists, on the night preceding the taking of testimony in the trial
of the prisoners, and on this occasion, Mr. Furthmann tells me, they
agreed, with one exception, to inform the prosecution that they would
not take the witness-stand to testify to the matters they had revealed
to the State. If they were put on as witnesses, they agreed, they could
swear that all they had told me and Mr. Furthmann with reference to the
conspiracy was pure and unadulterated falsehood. Mr. Waller refused to
be a party to such an agreement, and by his stubborn stand he caused
several of the other witnesses for the State to change their minds and
stick to the truth. Others, however, held out, and, when asked by the
State to appear, refused. Waller proved a very strong witness, and, as
Mr. Furthmann says, not one of the witnesses for the defense dared to
contradict his testimony.

[Illustration: THE HINMAN STREET STATION.

From a Photograph.]

But to return to the contemplated attacks on the police stations.
The Hinman Street house was the fourth one in the list marked for
destruction. This station was in charge of Lieut. Richard Sheppard,
and contained on the night in question thirty-four officers. It is
a two-story brick building with basement, and is situated at the
northwest corner of Hinman and Paulina Streets. The basement is used
as a lock-up for the detention of prisoners, and all the offices are
located on the first floor, facing Paulina Street. The patrol-wagon
barn is situated in the rear of the station, contiguous to an alley,
through which the street is reached. Around this locality between
eighty and a hundred Anarchists gathered for work and to await the
signal. Mende and Sisterer were at the head of this murderous gang.
Some were to exploit with rifles from the alley north of the station
and on the east side of the street; others, with dynamite bombs, were
to look after the officers in the rooms where they might happen to be
most numerous, and those with revolvers were to station themselves in
the alley directly behind the station to shoot down any of the officers
who might come out in the patrol wagon, and also to kill the horses.
Others, again, with revolvers, were to post themselves in front of the
station to kill those who might escape the deadly bombs and seek safety
by rushing into the street. The riflemen were to come as a reserve
force to shoot down any who might have escaped both the revolvers
and bombs. They were a desperate set and appeared determined on the
execution of the plot. The men who composed the gang were Germans,
Bohemians and Poles, all members of the West Side group, and some
outsiders who worked in freight-houses and lumber-yards, and not one of
them had any love for a policeman. This district had been for several
years the scene of numerous strikes, and, as the officers had always
suppressed the rioters, the latter were viciously disposed towards
the guardians of the peace. Some of these reds were very anxious to
see the work of annihilation commence, and they loitered around in
small squads so as not to arouse suspicion until they could learn
whether the revolution had been inaugurated at the Haymarket meeting.
There was no call on this station for assistance at the time of the
explosion, as Inspector Bonfield thought it possible that trouble might
arise at McCormick’s, and the officers in that locality might thus be
required in that direction; and as the diabolical conspirators saw no
officers or patrol wagon move out, they became anxious to know how
the Haymarket affair had terminated, and one by one they sneaked away
from their hiding-places. When they finally learned particulars about
the shooting, they ran home, and, like the cowards they were, kept
under cover for several days. Later in the evening one company was
ordered from this station to guard Desplaines Street, after the wounded
officers had all been brought from the Haymarket. When the wagon
had reached Halsted and Harrison Streets, however, Capt. O’Donnell
halted it and ordered the officers back to the station, as it had been
ascertained that all the Anarchists had sought their homes for the
night.

It was very fortunate that the officers were not called out earlier in
the evening. If Inspector Bonfield had ordered them to report a few
moments after the riot, very few of the men would have escaped alive.
I have since learned that the brigands who were sneaking around that
station that night numbered nearly one hundred, and as one-half of them
were under the influence of liquor, it is very likely that they would
have committed desperate deeds had the occasion offered.



CHAPTER XIX.

 The Legal Battle—The Beginning of Proceedings in Court—Work in the
 Grand Jury Room—The Circulation of Anarchistic Literature—A Witness
 who was not Positive—Side Lights on the Testimony—The Indictments
 Returned—Selecting a Jury—Sketches of the Jurymen—Ready for the
 Struggle.


THE case was now in condition to be turned over to the courts. The
detective work was done, and, as I flatter myself, and as the result
proved, well done. A deliberate and fiendish conspiracy to bring about
riot, destruction and death had been proven. The Haymarket gathering
was projected to invite a police attack, and this attack was to be the
pretext for dynamite, murder and the social revolution. Of course much
of the information given in the preceding pages was not used either
in the grand jury room or at the trial. It was not necessary. State’s
Attorney Grinnell, with his usual wisdom and tact, selected only the
best, strongest and most reliable witnesses, and left out the minor
ones. The statements of all those who “squealed” were conclusive,
criminative and corroborative, but their presentation in court would
have simply lumbered up the case.

As a result of the energetic work of Coroner Hertz the principal
conspirators had been bound over, without bail, at the inquest.

The grand jury was impaneled on the 17th of May, 1886, and was composed
of the following named persons: John N. Hills (foreman), George Watts,
Peter Clinton, George Adams, Charles Schultz, Thomas Broderick, William
Bartels, Fred. Wilkinson, P. J. Maloney, John Held, A. J. Grover,
Frank N. Seavert, E. A. Jessel, Theodore Schultze, Alfred Thorp, N. J.
Webber, Adolph Wilke, Fred Gall, Edward S. Dreyer, John M. Clark, John
C. Neemes, N. J. Quan and T. W. Hall.

Judge John G. Rogers delivered a long, able and forcible charge to
the members of this grand jury. He first called attention to the
necessity of their not being influenced in their acts by fear, favor or
affection, and then dwelt upon what constitutes freedom of speech. He
said:

 “We hear a good deal these days about what is called the freedom of
 speech. Now, there is a good deal of misconception of the Constitution
 of the United States and of the Constitution of the State of Illinois,
 and I may say of all States in the Union, upon this question of
 freedom of speech. I have copied the provisions upon which persons
 rely who continually say that in this free country men have a right
 to assemble—men have a right to speak and say what they please.
 There is no such right. There is no such constitutional right.
 The constitutional rights as expressed in the Constitution are:
 ‘That Congress shall make no law abridging the freedom of speech
 or of the press, or the right of the people peaceably to assemble
 and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.’ The
 same principle is carried along into the State Constitutions; and
 in the Constitution of the State of Illinois, and in its Bill of
 Rights, there is a provision that ‘every person may freely speak,
 write and publish on all subjects, being responsible for the use
 of that liberty.’ And in another provision the people have a right
 ‘to assemble in peaceable manner, to consult for the common good,
 to make known their opinions to their representatives, and to apply
 for a redress of grievances.’

[Illustration: NEEBE’S SWORD AND BELT.]

 You will perceive in a moment that the construction of the United
 States constitutional right has been interpreted, if I may so express
 myself, in the Constitution of the State of Illinois, and that
 interpretation is the one that the courts have always recognized,
 and that, while a man may speak freely and write and publish upon
 all subjects, he is responsible for the abuse of the liberty of
 speech. I refer to these constitutional rights because some men are
 so inconsistent as to say there shall be no law for any such rights,
 yet claim the protection of these rights in the broadest sense, and,
 with an interpretation satisfactory to their own minds, that a man
 may get up, and, in a public speech to a public crowd, advise murder
 and arson, the destruction of property and the injury of people.
 That is a wild license which the Constitution of this country has
 never recognized any more than it has been recognized in the worst
 despotisms of old and of monarchical Europe. I hope and you hope it
 will never be recognized.”

The eminent jurist then illustrated the point of responsibility. If,
said he, he should get up and there advise members of the jury that
the foreman ought to be hanged for some assumed offense, he would be
advising the commission of a crime; and if his advice was followed
he himself who incited the hanging would be just as guilty of murder
as the ones who did it. He next referred to the Haymarket riot and
counseled the jury to look not only to the man who actually committed
the crime, but to those who stood behind him, who actually advised it.
He held that the men who so advised were equally guilty and should be
held responsible for it. “What,” he said “is an incendiary speech but
inciting men to commit wild acts?” He spoke of the red flag in Chicago
and said: “What is a red flag in a procession, or a black flag, but a
menace, a threat? It is understood to be emblematic of blood, and that
no quarter will be given. Flags of that sort ought not to be permitted
to be borne in processions in this city.” He referred to the labor
troubles of the Knights of Labor, which, he acknowledged, happily
had no connection with the Haymarket or with Anarchy, and then, for
the guidance of the jury in reaching conclusions on the Anarchistic
conspiracy, he quoted the statutes on what constituted conspiracy and
the penalty for riots. In closing Judge Rogers counseled the jury to
consider all evidence submitted with fairness and impartiality.

The next day the grand jury entered upon its work. A great many
witnesses appeared before it, but many of them were not required at the
trial, as their testimony would neither add to nor detract from the
strength of the case. Facts were brought out under the latitude allowed
in a grand jury room that could not, under court procedure, be brought
into a cause on trial because of their not bearing directly on the
charges, or not tending to supply some material connecting link in the
chain of evidence. Some of this testimony, while not serving to throw
any special light upon the conspiracy, may yet illustrate some phases
of Anarchy growing out of the propagation of Anarchistic ideas and
features incidental to the _cause celebre_; and for that purpose I have
carefully scanned over the official grand jury reports and selected
such omitted points as will serve to give a better general idea of the
whole subject.

The sale and circulation of Anarchistic literature in Chicago was
one of the matters into which inquiry was made. Anton Laufermann,
a Division Street bookseller, testified that Most had written “The
Solution of the Socialistic Question,” “The Movement in Old Rome, or
Cæsarism,” “The Bastile at Platzensee,” and other works, including “The
Science of War.” It appeared that these Anarchistic books were not, as
a rule, handled by booksellers.

Edward Deuss, city editor of the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_, told the grand
jury that the dynamite book—Most’s “Science of War”—was usually sold
by men at picnics and similar gatherings, and that a book-store would
be the last place to look for it. The men who peddled this literature
were volunteers who made no money out of the sales.

This evidence was corroborated by other persons. The plan seemed to
be to scatter Most’s works quietly among the people, thus avoiding
any of the difficulties or dangers which might follow from open
and undisguised sale. The main source of supply was manifestly the
_Arbeiter-Zeitung_ office. The books were easy to get: nearly all
the arrested Anarchists had copies of the dynamite book in their
possession. One of the most persistent _colporteurs_ was Muntzenberg.
The hundreds of copies of incendiary books and pamphlets were passed
around from one man to another, and it is out of the question to
attempt to estimate the amount of injury they have done. The evidence
upon this point—so much, at least, as came from the office of the
_Arbeiter-Zeitung_—was unsatisfactory. This, however, was to have been
expected when the character and peculiar beliefs of the witnesses is
considered. For instance, Gerhardt Lizius, an editorial writer on this
paper, after being questioned, without satisfactory results, about the
interior arrangements of the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ and various articles
about the premises, was asked to define Anarchy and Socialism.

“A Socialist,” he said, “wants the State to regulate everything, while
we don’t want any authority whatever. We want the people to associate
themselves for production and consummation (of the highest good),
according to their own desires.”

“How does it happen that capital is in your way?” asked Mr. Grinnell.

“Because the capitalist has taken something from us that is not his,
that we have created.”

“What is the manner the Anarchists have adopted in reaching that which
they have not got now?”

“We want to get it any way we can—peaceably if we can, and forcibly if
we must.”

“Even to the extent of a capitalist’s life?”

“Yes.”

“Do you believe in the use of dynamite?”

“Yes.”

“You say that you should not divide your property with your neighbor.
Why should the capitalist?”

“We don’t want him to divide anything. We want him to make it public
property. He has got as much right to it as we have. Everybody,
according to our view, should have the right of life, liberty and the
pursuit of happiness. That means that I should have the right to the
means of life, and that means, of course, that we should have the right
to everything that nature gives us, so that every man, if he wants, can
work, and everybody make a living. If he don’t want to work, then of
course he should not make a living.”

“The _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ was an Anarchistic paper?”

“Yes.”

“Did the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ divide its things?”

“There was nothing to divide there. We didn’t make any money.”

“Supposing that you and I should want the same thing—how would you
settle that question?”

“Well, I guess there can be more than one of these things made.”

“I might want a cow that you would want, or a horse; you might want the
same thing—how would you settle that matter?”

“I work for it and get it.”

“I thought you did not believe in that?” continued Mr. Grinnell.

“You did not hear me say anything of the kind. I said that we should
have the right to work so that we could make a living. We didn’t want
anything without work.”

“Now, you figure that a man who has got a hundred thousand dollars by
reason of having worked hard, stands in your way; isn’t that your idea?”

“Yes.”

“Suppose I have got ten cows and you don’t get any; you have been lazy
and haven’t earned your ten cows. Now, how do you get half of my cows?”

“You are looking at this thing from the standpoint of the present
system of society. It is impossible for any of you gentleman, if you
are not Socialists and don’t understand what Socialism is, to get at
the idea at all as to how things are run. You have to look at it from
the standpoint of Socialism.”

“Your idea is to have society without any law?”

“The Government is only for the oppression of people. We would have to
organize for some purposes.”

“Supposing this Government should get something in its mails that you
would happen to want, should you have a right to take it?”

“No, sir.”

“Suppose you did take it, what would be done with you?”

“No man is supposed to take anything that does not belong to him.”

“You would have law to punish people, wouldn’t you?”

“No, sir.”

Being asked if he had seen about the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ office any
implements of warfare, Lizius answered in the negative—not even
pistols or anything of that kind.

“Do you believe that the man who threw the bomb over there [meaning the
Haymarket] did right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And that it was a righteous act in shooting down the policemen?”

“Yes, sir.”

The reason he advanced for his belief was that it was an act of
self-defense; that the police, according to his knowledge, had
attacked the crowd with clubs before the bomb was thrown. This sort of
misinformation seems to have been spread among the ignorant Anarchists,
and Lizius, when he said he believed it, knew better and simply adopted
it as an excuse for their acts.

“Do you believe in the existence of a God?” asked one of the jurymen.

“No, sir.”

“Have you any regard for law at all?”

“No, sir.”

“Have you any regard for the obligation of an oath taken before the
grand jury?”

“No, sir.”

“You have been sworn here ‘by the ever-living God.’ You have no regard
for that oath, have you?”

“No, sir.”

“Have you told the truth?”

“Yes, sir.”

“How did you come to tell the truth?”

“I am not in the habit of lying. There is no cause for it.”

[Illustration: 1. Round Iron Bombs, cast whole, and designed for use
with percussion caps, to explode on falling. The bomb in center was
cast several years ago, and was saved from a number thrown into the
lake by a scared Anarchist.

2. Sheet-iron Molds, used by Lingg in the construction of Infernal
Machines.

3, 4. Sectional views of the “Czar Bomb.”

ANARCHIST AMMUNITION—II. FROM PHOTOGRAPHS.]

“If you had a good cause, would you lie? Would you lie to save a life?”

“If it hung upon such a slender thread as that, I would.”

“Would you, if you thought it would help the cause of Anarchy?”

“I don’t see how it could.”

Among the many witnesses examined in the grand jury room was Ernst
Legner. It will be remembered that the defense, at the trial, claimed
that this man had been spirited away by the prosecution. This was done,
of course, with a view to damaging the case of the State before the
jury. Now, the facts are these: Legner’s name was placed on the back
of the indictment somehow—I do not know why. Certainly neither the
State nor the defense could have used him, and he would have been even
less valuable for the prisoners than for the prosecution. Legner was a
man who was sure of nothing. His testimony before the grand jury was
continually and invariably qualified by the statement that he “could
not be positive;” that he “was not sure.” For instance, here is some of
his testimony:

Did he meet Chris Spies at that meeting? He could not say. “I saw
him that night, but I couldn’t say whether I saw him there. I don’t
recollect. I couldn’t say positive. I couldn’t say anything positive
about that.”

This answer prompted Mr. Grinnell to ask: “Since when have you grown so
unpositive?”

“Well, in that way, I guess ever since,” was his lucid reply.

“You remember me, don’t you, down at the Central Station, talking with
you?”

“No, sir.”

“Don’t you remember coming in, seeing me and your brother come in?”

“Well, that was in the City Hall.”

“Well, that is what we call Central Station. You saw me there, did you?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You remember your brother told you he had advised you to keep away
from those people, and advised you to tell the truth about this
transaction?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And you then and there told me that you saw Chris Spies right near
that wagon that night?”

“Well, I might have seen him, but I won’t say anything positive on
that.”

“Have you seen him since then?”

“Yes, sir, I did.”

“When?”

“I saw him yesterday.”

“And he talked—you spoke to him about this case then, didn’t you?”

“I only spoke to him—I told him that he looked pale, and that was all
the speaking, and he went off. I was going west, and he was going east.”

“Now, why should there be any confusion in your mind to-day where you
saw him that night?”

“Well, I saw him that night, but I could not say positive whether I saw
him there or not, at the meeting.”

“You said a moment ago that you looked around, and you thought you saw
him right there?”

“Well, yes. That is where I said; I could not say positive; I saw him,
but I could not say positive.”

This sort of fire was kept up for some time, but the witness always
dodged behind “I could not say positive.” He was asked how long it was
after August Spies got through speaking when he (Spies) left, but the
only answer was: “Well, that is something I don’t know certain.”

Now, why should the State want such a witness, or what interest could
it have in spiriting him away? He certainly developed a remarkable want
of memory, and with his testimony before the grand jury the defendants,
if they had put him on the stand, could not have utilized him on their
side. If he knew anything, as would seem to be the case, judging from
his brother’s advice to tell everything and some statements he had
previously made to the State’s Attorney, it all must have been in
favor of the State. It is a justifiable conclusion that Chris Spies,
on meeting him the day preceding his appearance before the grand jury,
must have influenced him to testify the way he did. The truth about the
whole matter is that the defendants would not have touched Legner had
he been procurable, and if he went out of the city it must have been
at their instigation. The above samples of his testimony show that his
appearance on the stand would have made him dead timber to either side.

A good deal was also said about the absence of Mr. Brazleton, an
_Inter-Ocean_ reporter, from the witness-stand. He was not produced
by the State because many of his statements were not of a positive
character.

As there were so many other witnesses who had paid special attention to
the incendiary character of the speeches, and remembered distinctly the
various details in connection with the Haymarket meeting, there was no
occasion to use Brazleton as a witness. All the others who were put on
the stand gave fuller particulars and corroborated each other in all
essential points. Had the general information of the others been of
the same nature as that of Brazleton, it might have been well to have
used him as a witness, but, with so much direct testimony as the State
possessed, his evidence was not necessary. The defense simply sought to
make a point on his absence—that is all.

A great deal has been said with reference to Schnaubelt. There is
no doubt that he threw the fatal bomb. The defense at the trial of
Spies and the others sought, however, to discredit such a belief. They
asserted that there was not an iota of evidence to sustain such an
opinion, and for their part they did not believe it. _Per contra_, it
may be said that if he was innocent he took the wrong course to show
it. Schnaubelt was arrested by Officers Palmer and Boyd, of the Central
Station. Before the grand jury Palmer testified as follows:

[Illustration: HON. JOSEPH E. GARY.

From a Photograph.]

“I was told that he was working at 224 Washington Street, rooms 5
and 6. I went up there and found him and brought him to the Central
Station. That was on the 6th of this month.”

“Did he have whiskers, or not?”

“His face was shaved clean, except a mustache.”

“You had been looking for a man with whiskers?”

“Yes. I was told by his employer that he shaved his whiskers off the
morning after the riot.”

“Did he say anything to you about having shaved himself?”

“I asked him why he shaved, and he said he always did it in the summer
time.”

“Do you know what the size of his whiskers was?”

“About six or eight inches long.”

“Did you have any talk with him when you brought him to the Central
Station?”

“Yes. I asked him if he was at the scene of the riot on the Tuesday
night previous, and he said he was. I asked him where he was. He said
he was up on the wagon. I asked him where he was when the bomb was
thrown. He said he was on the wagon half a minute before the bomb was
thrown, but he had got off, and when it exploded he supposed he was
about fifty feet from the wagon.”

“He was let go that morning?”

“Yes.” “Tell us about his place of work and what you found out
yesterday?”

“Captain Schaack sent a couple of men to me yesterday to find out if
we could get this man again. I took them over to where I had found him
previously. His employer told me that after he got away from me on the
6th of this month [May] he came back and finished the day’s work, and
he had not shown up from that time to this. His tools were there, and
he did not call for his money. His sister had called for the money
several days after he quit, but he did not give it to her.”

“He had a good job, didn’t he?”

“He was a machinist, working at a turning-lathe.”

Schnaubelt was described as having sandy whiskers, about six feet tall,
weighing about 190 pounds, large and bony, not very fleshy, and about
twenty-four years of age.

Lieut. John Shea, then in charge of the Central Station, testified to
the same facts and that the police had been unable to find the man in
the city.

At the time there were no strong circumstances connecting Schnaubelt
with the massacre, but suspicious evidence ought to have held him in
custody for a day or two until all his antecedents could have been
inquired into. His release was a sad mistake, and the fact that he
hastened out of the city shows the fear he had of being directly
connected with the throwing of the bomb. The evidence of various
parties points to him as the guilty party, and it was fortunate for him
that he escaped.

C. M. Hardy, a leading attorney of Chicago, testified to a conversation
which he had had with Spies the day before the Haymarket tragedy.

During this conversation, which occurred accidentally in a restaurant,
“Spies,” to use the words of the witness, “turned and said to me
laughingly, ‘Are you with us?’ ‘Well,’ I said, ‘If you mean that I am
in favor of the laborer getting well paid for his labor, I am with you,
but no further than that.’ ‘Well,’ he said, still laughing, ‘you had
better be, for we are going to raise h——l,’ and then went on.”

On the 28th of May the grand jury concluded its labors and returned
into court fifteen indictments for murder, conspiracy and riot,
against Spies, Parsons, Fischer, Engel, Lingg, Fielden, Schwab, Neebe,
Schnaubelt and some lesser lights in the Anarchistic circle.

The trial began on the 19th of June. No case ever brought before the
Chicago courts excited so much interest or brought out a greater
crowd. Not one tithe of the throng of people who were eager to see the
notorious defendants were able to find place in the court-room.

Judge Joseph E. Gary presided, and with his suave, dignified bearing
and his prompt manner of handling legal details and technicalities, he
impressed all with the conviction that, while the Anarchists would have
a full and fair trial, no trifling with the law would be permitted.
The case was one which not alone interested Chicago, but touched the
stability and welfare of every city of any considerable size in the
United States. The eyes of the whole country were riveted on Chicago,
and the outside world was eagerly watching the results of a case, the
first in America, to determine whether dynamite was to be considered a
legal weapon in the settlement of socio-political problems in a free
republic.

[Illustration:

  HARRY T. SANDFORD.
  FRANK S. OSBORNE.
  JAMES H. BRAYTON.
  GEO. W. ADAMS.
  SCOTT G. RANDALL.
  ANDREW HAMILTON.

PORTRAITS OF THE JURY.—I.]

Time was when our system of government was looked upon abroad as an
experiment of doubtful nature, but when it had passed the experimental
period it was pointed to by foreign friends as furnishing no pretext
for Socialistic or Anarchistic outbursts of violence, and as supplying
no favorable conditions for the growth even of Anarchistic doctrines.
In a speech before the French Legislative Assembly, De Tocqueville once
said, pointing to America: “There shall you see a people among whom all
conditions of men are more on an equality even than among us; where the
social state, the manners, the laws, everything is democratic; where
all emanates from the people and returns to the people, and where, at
the same time, every individual enjoys a greater amount of liberty, a
more entire independence, than in any other part of the world, at any
period of time; a country, I repeat it, essentially democratic—the
only democracy in the wide world at this day, and the only republic
truly democratic which we know of in history. And in this republic you
will look in vain for Socialism.”

[Illustration:

  CHAS. B. TODD.
  JOHN B. GREINER.
  JAMES H. COLE.
  ALANSON H. REED.
  THEO. E. DENKER.
  CHAS. H. LUDWIG.

PORTRAITS OF THE JURY.—II.]

Still, Anarchy found lodgment in America through men exiled under the
rigorous baiting of their own country—men whose early education had
been set against all government and whose prejudices operated against
the study of our institutions. In the violent culmination of their
doctrines at the Haymarket the point was reached where it became
necessary to demonstrate that it is a rank growth and has no excuse in
a republic in which the utmost liberty is allowed consistent with the
rights of life and property.

When, therefore, this trial opened, both the Judge and the State’s
Attorney felt that a great responsibility had been laid upon their
shoulders, and that the whole civilized world would sit in judgment
upon the manner in which they performed their duty. They entered into
the case with no revengeful feelings, but held firmly to their course,
mindful of the rights of the defendants, but determined to maintain
law and justice. The case was called on the day indicated, in the main
court-room of the Criminal Court building, and the moment the State’s
Attorney had announced his readiness to commence proceedings, the
defendants’ counsel entered a motion for a separate trial of each of
the prisoners. This was argued and overruled.

On the morning of June 21, at ten o’clock, everything was in readiness
for the trial proper, and the work of selecting the jury was entered
upon. Within the bar of the court sat the eminent counsel of both
sides. On the left, in front of the bench, there was State’s Attorney
Grinnell, surrounded by his assistants, Francis W. Walker and Edmund
Furthmann, and Special State’s Counsel George C. Ingham, and on the
right of the bench sat the defendants’ attorneys, Capt. W. P. Black,
W. A. Foster, Sigismund Zeisler and Moses Salomon, flanked by the
prisoners and their relatives. The remaining space within the bar was
occupied by attorneys of the city as spectators, and the rest of the
court-room was filled with a motley throng, including here and there
representatives of the fair sex drawn by personal interest or moved by
morbid curiosity. The prisoners were dressed in their best, each with a
button-hole bouquet.

During the preliminary proceedings, as we have noted elsewhere,
Parsons had joined his associates, and his bronzed appearance, from
out-door exposure, was in marked contrast with that of his pale-looking
companions.

The task of selecting a jury proceeded, but it was not an easy thing to
find men unbiased and unprejudiced. Four weeks were consumed in this
work, but finally twelve “good men and true” were chosen, as follows:
F. S. Osborne, Major James H. Cole, S. G. Randall, A. H. Reed, J. H.
Brayton, A. Hamilton, G. W. Adams, J. B. Greiner, C. B. Todd, C. H.
Ludwig, T. E. Denker and H. T. Sandford.

So notable was the trial, and so tremendous the interests involved,
that the reader will naturally want to know something of the
_personnel_ of the jury whose verdict vindicated and guaranteed law and
order in America:

 FRANK S. OSBORNE, a resident at No. 134 Dearborn Avenue, the foreman
 of the jury, was born in Columbus, Ohio, and at the time of the trial
 was thirty-nine years of age. He filled the position of chief salesman
 in the retail department of Marshall Field & Co., and was a man of
 liberal ideas and good education. He possessed keen judgment, and
 proved a critical examiner of all the evidence submitted. He readily
 grasped all the strong and weak points in the defense, and showed
 himself a thorough master of the evidence.

 MAJ. JAMES H. COLE, a resident at No. 987 Lawndale Avenue, was born
 in Utica, New York, and was fifty-three years of age. During the
 war he was a Captain, and subsequently rose to the rank of Major in
 the Forty-first Ohio Infantry. After the close of the Rebellion,
 he engaged in the railroad business as contractor and constructor,
 residing at different times in Vermont, Ohio, Tennessee, Illinois
 and Iowa. He came to Chicago in 1879, and was book-keeper for the
 Continental Insurance Company until shortly before serving on the jury.

 CHARLES B. TODD, a resident at No. 1013 West Polk Street, was born in
 Elmira, New York, and was forty-seven years of age. He had served in
 the Sixth New York Heavy Artillery, and since his arrival in Chicago,
 four years preceding, had been a salesman in the Putnam Clothing House.

 ALANSON H. REED, a resident at No. 3442 Groveland Park, was born in
 Boston, Mass., and was forty-nine years of age. He was a member of the
 firm of Reed & Sons, at No. 136 State Street, and during the trial
 proved a close listener to all the evidence.

 JAMES H. BRAYTON, a resident of Englewood, and Principal of the
 Webster School, on Wentworth Avenue, in Chicago, was born in Lyons,
 New York, and was forty years of age.

 THEODORE E. DENKER, a resident of Woodlawn Park, in the town of Hyde
 Park, was born in Wisconsin and was twenty-seven years of age. He was
 shipping clerk for H. H. King & Co.

 GEORGE W. ADAMS, a resident of Evanston, was born in Indiana, and was
 twenty-seven years of age. He traveled in Michigan as commercial agent
 of Geo. W. Pitkin & Co., dealers in liquid paints, on Clinton Street,
 Chicago.

 CHARLES H. LUDWIG, a resident at 4101 State Street, was born in
 Milwaukee, Wisconsin, and was twenty-seven years of age. He was a
 book-keeper in the mantel manufactory of C. L. Page & Co.

 JOHN B. GREINER, residing at No. 70 North California Avenue, was
 born in Columbus, Ohio, and was twenty-five years of age. He was a
 stenographer in the freight department of the Chicago and Northwestern
 Railway. Mr. Greiner’s mother was, after the trial, the recipient of
 so many threatening letters from the reds that she almost lost her
 mind.

 ANDREW HAMILTON, a resident at 1521 Forty-first Street, was a hardware
 merchant at No. 3913 Cottage Grove Avenue. He had resided in Chicago
 twenty years.

 HARRY T. SANDFORD, a resident of Oak Park, was born in New York City,
 and was twenty-five years of age. He was a son of Attorney Sandford,
 compiler of the Supreme Court Reports of New York, and since his
 arrival in Chicago had been voucher clerk in the auditor’s office of
 the Chicago and Northwestern Railway.

 SCOTT G. RANDALL, a resident at No. 42 La Salle Street, was born in
 Erie County, Pennsylvania and was twenty-three years of age. He had
 lived in Chicago for three years, and was a salesman in the employ of
 J. C. Vaughn, seedsman, at No. 45 La Salle Street.



CHAPTER XX.

 Judge Grinnell’s Opening—Statement of the Case—The Light of the
 4th of May—The Dynamite Argument—Spies’ Fatal Prophecy—The
 Eight-hour Strike—The Growth of the Conspiracy—Spies’ Cowardice at
 McCormick’s—The “Revenge” Circular—Work of the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_
 and the _Alarm_—The Secret Signal—A Frightful Plan—“Ruhe”—Lingg,
 the Bomb-maker—The Haymarket Conspiracy—The Meeting—“We are
 Peaceable”—After the Murder—The Complete Case Presented.


IT was on Thursday, the 15th of July, that the preliminary work
was finally ended and the court was ready for a formal statement
of the case. This statement was made by State’s Attorney Grinnell,
and his arraignment of the defendants was such a clear, convincing
and masterful argument—giving, as it did, the whole history of the
Anarchist conspiracy, and foreshadowing eloquently and in detail all
the proof which was to be got before the jury—that I will print here
a verbatim copy of his speech, believing that the reader will find
nowhere else so business-like a statement of what these prisoners did
and how they did it.

During the delivery of Mr. Grinnell’s remarks the crowded court-room,
prisoners and sympathizing Anarchists, wounded policemen, judge, jurors
and representatives of the press hung upon his words with a keen
interest which has seldom been duplicated in the annals of American
jurisprudence.

Mr. Grinnell said:

 “GENTLEMEN:—For the first time in the history of our country are
 people on trial for their lives for endeavoring to make Anarchy the
 rule, and in that attempt for ruthlessly and awfully destroying life.
 I hope that while the youngest of us lives this in his memory will be
 the last and only time in our country when such a trial shall take
 place. It will or will not take place as this case is determined.

 “The State now and at no time hereafter will say aught to arouse your
 prejudices or your indignation, having confidence in the case that
 we present; and I hope I shall not at any time during this trial say
 anything to you which will in any way or manner excite your passions.
 I want your reason. I want your careful analysis. I want your careful
 attention. We—my associates and myself—ask the conviction of no man
 from malice, from prejudice, from anything except the facts and the
 law. I am here, gentlemen, to maintain the law, not to break it; and,
 however you may believe that any of these men have broken the law
 through their notions of Anarchy, try them on the facts. We believe,
 gentlemen, that we have a case that shall command your respect, and
 demonstrate to you the truthfulness of all the declarations in it,
 and, further, that by careful attention and close analysis you can
 determine who are guilty and the nature of the crime.

 “On the 4th of May, 1886, a few short weeks ago, there occurred,
 at what is called Haymarket Square, the most fearful massacre ever
 witnessed or heard of in this country. The crime culminated there—you
 are to find the perpetrators. The charge against the defendants is
 that they are responsible for that act. The testimony that shall be
 presented to you will be the testimony which will show their innocence
 or their guilty complicity in that crime.

[Illustration: HON. JULIUS S. GRINNELL.

From a Photograph.]

 “We have been in this city inclined to believe, as we have all through
 the country, that, however extravagantly men may talk about our laws
 and our country, however severely they may criticise our Constitution
 and our institutions; that as we are all in favor of full liberty, of
 free speech, the great good sense of our people would never permit
 acts based upon sentiments which meant the overthrow of law. We
 have believed it for years; we were taught it at our schools in our
 infancy, we were taught it in our maturer years in school, and all
 our walks in life thereafter have taught us that our institutions,
 founded on our Constitution,