Under a cloud. A struggle for life. Contesting every point by shrewd counsel. Braving it out. The defense.

Attorney Zeisler moved to have the jury sent from the room pending a motion, and this the Court refused to do, saying it was a vicious practice, and that the jury should hear all there was in a case.

Capt. Black—“The motion we desire to make is that your Honor now instruct the jury, the State having rested, that they find a verdict of not guilty as to Oscar Neebe; and we desire to argue that motion.”

Counsel for the defense proceeded to argue the motion, and held that Neebe was not amenable; not having been present at the Haymarket, and having nothing to do with the Arbeiter Zeitung until after the arrest of Spies.

The Court—“If he had had prior knowledge of the participation in the Haymarket meeting the question would be quite different, but if there is a general advice to commit murder, and the time and occasion not being forseenforeseen, the adviser is guilty if the murder is committed. Whether he did participate, concurred, assented, or encouraged the publication of the Arbeiter Zeitung is a question for this jury upon the testimony that he was frequently there, and that so soon as Schwab and Spies were away he took charge. Everything in which his name has been mentioned must be taken together, and then what the proper inference is, is for the jury to say.”

Capt. Black—“Does your Honor overrule the motion?”—The Court—“I overrule the motion.”

Capt. Black—“We except, if your Honor pleases. We desire also to make a like motion, without arguing it, in behalf of all the defendants except Spies and Fischer.”—Motion overruled.

Mr. Salomon then began the opening argument for the defense. There were two leading points in his argument:

1. There connotcannot be accessories without a principal. The state must prove that somebody was a principal in committing murder before it can convict others as accessories.

2. The defendants did not throw the bomb: therefore they are not guilty.

“True, the defendants made bombs; true, they intended to use dynamite. What if they did?” asks Mr. Salomon. “They were preparing for a revolution by force of arms and by means of dynamite—but what has that to do with the case? Did they kill Matthias J. Degan, for which act they were specifically indicted? That is the question.”

Mr. Salomon then argued that the State would have to prove that the object of the Haymarket meeting was to “aggressively kill the police.” He pointed out that the defendants had consecrated their lives to the benefit of their fellow men. They did not seek McCormick’s property for themselves—they did not want the goods in Marshall Field’s store for themselves. Their methods were dangerous, but why were they not stopped at inception? They advocated force, because they believed in force. No twelve men—no 12,000 men—could root out Anarchy. Anarchy is of the head—it is implanted in the soul! As well attempt to root out Republicanism or Democracy! They intended revolution—a revolution similar to that of the Northern states against slavery, or of America against British oppression. They wanted to free the white slaves—the working classes. They intended to use dynamite in furtherance of that revolution. But they did not expect, nor did they conspire to take, the life of officer Degan. Lingg had the right to manufacture bombs and fill his house with dynamite, if he so pleased. There was no law against it. Mr. Salomon intimated that an attempt would be made to show who threw the bomb, or that it was thrown by somebody other than Schnaubelt; also that the police began the riot by shooting into the crowd; that Schwab was not at the meeting at all, and that when the bomb exploded Parsons and Fischer were in Zephf’s hall drinking beer.

“We expect further to show you,” said Mr. Salomon, “that this meeting had assembled peaceably, that its objects were peaceable, that they delivered the same harangues, that the crowd listened quietly, that not a single act transpired there previous to the coming of the police, for which any man in it could be held amenable to law. They assembled there under the provisions of our Constitution in the exercise of their right of free speech, to discuss the situation of the working men, to discuss the eight-hour question. They assembled there and incidentally discussed what they called the outrages perpetrated at McCormick’s. No man expected that bomb would be thrown, no man expected that any one would be injured at that meeting.”

The witness who gave, perhaps, the strongest evidence for the defense was Dr. James D. Taylor, an aged physician of the Eclectic school. On the direct examination, Captain Black asked:

“How old are you?” Answer—“I am seventy-six years of age.”

“Where were you on May 4, in the evening?”—“At the Haymarket.”

“Tell us when you reached the Haymarket.”—“About twenty minutes before the speaking commenced.”

“During that twenty minutes where were you?”—“I was standing in the alley—Crane’s alley—near Desplaines street.”

“How near to the west edge of the sidewalk?”—“Very close to it.”

“How long did you occupy that position?”—“As long as the bullets would let me.”

“How long was that?” asks Mr. Grinnell.—“I was the last man that left the alley after the bomb exploded.”

“Did you hear the speeches at the Haymarket?”—“Oh, yes; distinctly.”

“What did Spies say?”—“He spoke about Jay Gould, and some one said: ‘Hang him,’ and Spies said: ‘No, it is not time for that.’”

“What did Parsons say?”—“He spoke of the necessity for union. The substance of his remarks was that if the working men expected to win they must unite.”

“Did you notice the approach of the police?”—“I did; the first column came up close to where I was standing. They were so close I could touch them.”

“Did you hear Fielden?”—“Yes.”

“What did he say?”—“Well, he spoke about the law, and said: ‘It is your enemy. Kill it, stab it, throttle it; if you don’t, it will throttle you.’”

“Did you hear the command given to disperse?”—“Yes, sir.”

“What did Fielden say?”—“He said: ‘We are peaceable,’ or ‘This is a peaceable meeting.’”

“Did you see Fielden again?”—“I did. He got down out of the wagon and came around where I was standing.”

“Did you see him with a revolver?”—“I did not.”

“Did you see him shoot at all?”—“Never. I did not.”

“Did you see the bomb?”—“I did.”

“Where did it come from?”—“About twenty feet, or perhaps forty, south of the alley, behind some boxes on the sidewalk.”

“Now, tell what you saw.”—“Well, the bomb looked to me like a boy’s firecracker. It was then about five feet in the air. It circled in a southeast direction, and fell, I think, between the first and second columns of the police.”

“When did the shooting commence?”—“Almost simultaneously.”

“Did the firing proceed frromfrom the crowd, or the police?”—“It came from the street, near where the police were.”

“Did you see or hear of any pistol shots from the crowd?”—“Not one.”

“You say you went to the Haymarket the next morning. Did you make any examination of the neighborhood?”—“I did.”

“Did you find any marks of bullets in the walls around there?”—“Yes, a great many. They were in the north end of the wall of Crane Bros.’ building. Then I examined a telegraph pole north of the alley, on the west side of the street. There were a great many perforations on the south side of this pole.”

“Were there any perforations on the north side of the pole?”—“Not one.”

“Did you visit the place a second time?”—“I did.”

“For the purpose of examining this telegraph pole?”—“Yes, sir.”

“Tell the jury whether you found the pole there or not.”—“It was not there.”

“How long ago was that?”—“A week.”

“And the pole was gone?”—“It was gone.”

“What course did you take, doctor, in going out of the alley?”—“I took a zig-zag course.”

“Doctor, are you a Socialist?”—“Yes, sir.”

“Are you an Anarchist?”—“Not in the sense in which the term is usually employed.”

“How long have you been a Socialist?”—“About fifty years. I was taught Socialism by Robert Owen, father of Robert Dale Owen.”

“Do you know any of the defendants?”—“Yes. I know Parsons and Fielden well; Spies and Neebe slightly.”

“Have you ever taken part in Socialistic meetings?”—“Yes. I have spoken at meetings controversially.”

“Are you, or were you, a member of the International Working Men’s Society?”—“I was.”

“For how long?”—“Well, I continued a member until the organization was abandoned.”

“What group were you a member of?”—“Of the American group.”

“Where did you attend meetings?”—“At Greif’s hall.”

“What were the conditions of membership? Tell the jury whether those meetings were secret or public.”—“They were public. The conditions of membership were—” This answer was objected to by the State, and the Court sustains the objection.

“How long have you been a member of the American group?”—“I think a year, or a little more.”

“How often have you met Parsons and Fielden?”—“They have not been regular in their attendance.”

“Now, taking them in their order, will you state what you heard them say, either on the Lake front or at any hall, regarding the use of force?” Captain Black withdraws this question at once upon consultation with his associates.

Mr. Ingham then took up the cross-examination: “How did you come to go to the Haymarket, doctor?”—“I happened to be in the neighborhood, taking my usual evening walk.”

“Did you see any circular?”—“I did not.”

“How did you come to attend the meeting, then?”—“I saw a great many people, who told me there was to be a meeting.”

“Did you go at once to the alley?”—“I did.”

“Are you sure you did not stop on the Haymarket?“—“I am sure I did not.”

“Why, then, did you go in the alley?”—“To hear what was to be said.”

“What time did you get there?“—“A little after 7 o’clock.”

“And you stopped there all the time?”—“Yes.”

“How long did you wait?”—“About twenty minutes.”

“Then the meeting was opened?”—“It was.”

“And you listened to Spies?”—“Yes.”

“What did he say?”—“The substance of what he said was that the men had better go home, and not do any violence.”

(The witness confounds Spies and Parsons. The former, according to other witnesses, made no reference to Jay Gould, but Parsons did. The doctor said also that Parsons told the men that the history of strikes showed all strikes to have proved a failure; that what was wanted was a change in the system.)

“Did you see Fielden all the time he was speaking?”—“I did.”

“And he had no revolver?”—“He had not.”

“Did you keep your eye on him all the time?”—“Every minute.”

“You did not take your eye off him for a single minute?”—“Not half a minute.”

“And you saw him just as he closed his speech?”—“I did. He got down out of the wagon and was standing close to me.”

“Where did he go after the bomb exploded?”—“The Lord only knows what became of him. The demoralization was so great that I don’t know. I think he was one of the first men to go down after the shell exploded.”

“Well, how long did you remain there?”—“I was the last man to go up the alley. There was a great crowd ahead of me.”

“Were the bullets thick?”—“Well, I should say they were.”

“Yet you didn’t run?”—“Well, I am an old man, and I don’t care much.”

“What did you do next, after leaving the alley?”—“I went farther down in the alley. I was the last man to go down the alley. There was a projection in the alley and I took refuge behind that.”

“You were young enough then to want to live?”—“It wasn’t that; I heard the police shooting. They were going back toward the Haymarket. I could tell that by the report of the shooting. Then I ran out on Desplaines street and dodged about till I got home.”

“Where did you dodge?”—“A good many places. The police were shooting all over. They were all excited. I saw them shooting as far up as Madison street. One policeman on Madison street I saw point his revolver at a crowd of people on the street and say: ‘D— you! you’ve got to die any way.’ Then he fired his revolver at them.”

“You say you saw the bomb when it was about five feet in the air?”—“Yes.”

“Did yonyou see the fuse?”—“Yes.”

“What kind of a bomb was it?”—“Round.”

“What happened after it exploded?”—“The demoralization was great.”

“Did you hear any groans?”—“No.”

“How long have you been a physician?”—“Forty years.”

“What school?”—“Eclectic.”

“Are you a graduate of any college?”—“Yes; Eclectic.”

“You say you are a Socialist, but not an Anarchist as it is commonly defined. Are you an Anarchist as you understand that term?”—“I am.”

“Do you believe in an oath?”—“I do.”

“Do you believe that an oath adds anything to the obligation to tell the truth?”—“No. All honest men should tell the truth.”

“That’s all.”

L. M. Moses, a grocer, and Austin Mitchell, who lived with Moses, testified that they would not believe the witness Gilmer under oath. The defense then introduced August Krumm, of 1036 West Twentieth street, a woodworker, by whom they expected to entirely offset Gilmer’s evidence. From his evidence it was made to appear that Gilmer mistook Krumm for Spies, and that instead of lighting a bomb Krumm was engaged in nothing more harmful than lighting a pipe of tobacco. Mr. Foster conducts the examination, and the witness says he was at the Haymarket meeting May 4, and saw Spies and Parsons there for the first time.

“How did you come to go there?”—“I had business down town; heard of the meeting and went there with a friend, A. M. Albright.”

“Now, how close to the alley near Crane Brothers did you stand?”—“Very close. We stood there all the time from about 9.30 o’clock until the police arrived.”

“Did you stand there all the time?”—“No; we were gone for a minute or two.”

“Where did you go?”—“We went into the alley. I wanted to light my pipe. Albright came with me. He gave me a pipeful of tobacco and I went into the alley to light my pipe.”

“What did you go into the alley for?”—“There was a wind on the street, and we went into the alley so the match would not go out.”

“And Albright followed you?”—“Yes. He came to light his pipe.”

“Whose pipe was lighted first?”—“Mine.”

“Then his pipe was lighted?”—“Yes. He came over to me and lit his pipe from the match that lit my pipe, holding his head up close to mine.”

“After you came out of the alley what did you see?”—“The police were there; then the explosion followed.”

“Did you see Spies go into the alley?”—“I did not.”

“Did you see anybody in the alley?”—“Yes. There were two or three men there, but I could not tell who they were. It was dark.”

“Did anybody come into the alley while you were there?“—“No.”

“Could anybody pass into the alley without your knowing it?”—“No, sir; I stood up close to the building while I was lighting my pipe.”

“Now, tell whether you saw a light in the air about that time or a little after.”—“Yes; I saw a light like a match about twenty feet south of the alley on Desplaines street.”

Mr. Grinnell takes the witness in hand. “You say you came down town on business. Who did you want to see?”—“A friend of mine.”

“Who is he?”—“Adolph Winness.”

“Where does he live?”—“I do not know.”

“Where does he work?”—“I don’t know now.”

“What does he work at?”—“He is a woodworker.”

“How did you expect to meet him then, if you did not know where he lived or where he worked?”—“He told me I could find him there.”

“Find him where?”—“On Randolph street.”

“When did you see him last?”—“That afternoon. He came out to see me.”

“And he did not tell you where he worked?”—“No.”

“Nor where he stopped?”—“No.”

“Yet he said you could find him on Randolph street?”—“Yes.”

“So he gave you the idea that he could be found out of doors, did he?”—“Well, he’s around Randolph street a good deal.”

“Where did you meet Albright?”—“In the alley.”

“Near Crane Brothers?”—“Yes.”

“What did you say?”—“I said: ‘Hello, Albright,’ and he said: ‘Hello, Krumm.’”

“What else?”—“Did you say you came down town to see a friend?”—“Yes.”

“Did you tell him the name of your friend?”—“No.”

“Who was speaking then?”—“Parsons, I think.”

“Tell what he said.”—“He said something about Jay Gould.”

“What did Spies say?”—“He said: ‘A few words more, boys, and we’ll go home.’”

“Spies said that, did he?”—“Yes.”

“Which man is Spies?”—The witness confounds the men. Asked to indicate Spies he points to Fielden.

“How did you stand in the alley when the speaking was going on?”—“I had my back to the north wall.”

“Did you stand that way all the time?”—“Yes, except when we lit our pipes.”

“Then did you stand the same way after you lighted your pipes?”—“Yes.”

“Then how could you see these men if you had your backs to the wall?”—“I looked over my head.”

“You looked over your head all the time?”—“Yes, when we looked at the speakers.”

“And you never saw these men before?”—“No.”

“Yet from that point in the alley, the speakers eight feet or more distant, a crowd between you, you looking over your shoulders in the dark, you recognize these men the first time you saw them?”—“Yes.”

“Where were the police when Fielden said. ‘Now, a word more boys, and we will go home’?”—“They were coming up Desplaines street.”

“Where was Spies then?”—“I don’t know. I don’t remember.”

“Well, didn’t you see Spies on the wagon?”—“Yes.”

“When?”—“I don’t think now. Early in the evening, I think.”

“Now, when you were talking to Albright, did you talk about what the speakers were saying?”—“No.”

“Did you talk about the eight-hour question?”—“No.”

“What were you talking about?”—“About the shop.”

“Now, where did you see the bomb?”—“It was about ten feet in the air, about twenty feet south of the alley. I didn’t see it explode.”

“No, of course not. It was too far south.”

“There then was some boxes on the sidewalk, and you couldn’t see?”—“I did not say there were any boxes on the sidewalk.”

“Yes, but if there were any boxes there you would have seen them?”—“Yes. I would have seen them if they had been on the sidewalk.”

“And you did not see them there?”—“I did not.”

(All the other witnesses for the defense testified that a big pile of boxes stood on the sidewalk between the alley and a point where the bomb exploded.)

“And you say you did not see those boxes?”—“I did not.”

“When were you at the Haymarket?”—“May 4.”

“Were you ever there in your life?”—“Yes.”

“How about a lamp post. Did you see one?”—“I don’t remember now, but I know there is one at the southeast corner of the alley.”

“How do you know this?”—“I worked at the corner of Randolph and Jefferson streets for ten years, and remember it.”

“How long ago was that?”—“Seven years ago.”

“And you can remember that a lamp post stood at the southeast corner of the alley after the lapse of seven years?”—“I can.”

“Where is your wife now?”—“Living on Sedgwick street.”

“Whereabouts?”—“I don’t know. I have not seen her for a year.”

“How did you come to go to Salomon & Zeisler’s office?”—“I saw a notice in the Arbeiter Zeitung asking for all that knew anything about the bomb-throwing to call on them. I went there on Sunday.”

“When did you see this notice?”—“Some time ago. I don’t remember when.”

“Did you talk with any one about this bomb-throwing?”—“Yes, with Albright.”

“Any one else?”—“No.”

“Yet you saw the bomb in the air and heard the explosion but you did not talk to any one about what you saw?“—“That’s it.”

M. T. Malkoff, the correspondent of a paper at Moscow, Russia, and formerly a writer on the Arbeiter Zeitung, testified that Parsons was in Zephf’s hall, talking to his wife, Mrs. Holmes and the witness, when the bomb exploded. State’s Attorney Grinnell elicits from the witness that he has been five years in this country, that he lived in New York and maintained himself by teaching the Russian Language. From New York, he went to Little Rock, then to St. Louis, and finally to Chicago, arriving here in 1884. “You came here with a letter of introduction to Spies?”—“No, sir. I obtained my position in the South through a letter of introduction from Spies.”

“How did you come to get that letter?”—“I and a man named Clossie translated a romance from the Russian and sold it to Spies.”

“That was a revolutionary novel?”—“It was not. It was a description——”

“Oh, I don’t want to go into that. You know Herr Most?”—“I have seen him, but I don’t know him.”

“You know Justus Schwab? You had letters sent to his address?”—“That may be.”

“You lived with Schwab in New York?“—“I did not.”

“You lived with Balthazar Rau here, though, on May 4?”—“I did.”

“Where?”—“At 418 Larrabee street.”

“When did you leave Russia?”—“In 1882.”

“Your bedroom was searched, wasn’t it?”—“Yes, sir.”

“Were the arms found there guns and bayonets, or any of them, belonging to you?”—“No, sir.”

“Where did you live before you went to Rau’s house?”—“With Mr. Schwab.”

“One of the defendants?”—“Yes, sir.”

“You are a stockholder in the Alarm company?”—“No, sir.”

“You contributed money to that organization?”—“That may be.”

“But did you not contribute money?”—“I did.”

“How much?”—“Two dollars.”

“You were a Nihilist in Russia?”—“No, sir.”

“Are you not the agent here for the Nihilists in Russia?”—“No, sir. I am not an agent for any society in Russia.”

“Did you not tell Mr. Hardy you were the agent for a Nihilistic society?”—”No, sir. The reporters used to call me a Nihilist because I was Russian.”

“What paper are you now working for?”—“The Moscow Gazette.”

“Look at that letter; is that your signature at the bottom?”—“It is.”

The letter is written in German and it is given to the translator, who is instructed to render it into English. “This letter is directed to a ‘Mr. Editor.’ What editor?”—“I think it was directed to Mr. Spies.”

“That was before you came to Chicago?”—“It was.”

“Then we offer it in evidence.” The letter is, in substance, an inquiry as to whether or not Spies could use certain articles written by Malkoff. It goes on to say: “I have just completed another article treating of the secret revolutionary societies of Russia. I am a proletariat in the fullest sense of the word. Address your letter to J. H. Schwab, 50 First street, New York.”

“Is that J. H. Schwab, Justus Schwab?”—“It is.”

“Did you live with him in New York?”—“No, sir. I just got my mail there.”

“Now,” said Foster, “you say you were a proletariat. What do you mean by that term?”—“I understand it to be a man without any means of support.”

“And you, having no money, had your mail sent to Justus Schwab because you had no home, eh?”—“Yes, sir.”

“Now,” asked Mr. Ingham, “I’ll ask you if you did not use the term proletariat in the sense in which Socialists always employ that term?”—“No, sir, I did not.”

SAMUEL FIELDEN.

Samuel Fielden, one of the defendants who was speaking at the time of the bomb explosion, testified that he did not know who threw the bomb, and denied that he fired at the police with a revolver. He was cross-examined by Mr. Ingham for the State, who asked: “At what age did you come to the United States?”—“Twenty-one.”

“Did you have any business before you came to the United States?”—“I went to work in a cotton mill at eight years of age, and worked in that mill until I left the country to come to the United States.”

“How long have you been a Socialist?”—“I joined the SocialiasticSocialistic organization in July, 1884.”

“How long have you been a revolutionist?”—“In the sense of an evolutionary revolutionist, I have been so for a number of years.”

“How long have you been of the belief that the existing order of things should be overthrown by force?”—“I don’t know that I have ever been convinced. I am of the opinion that the existing order of things must be overturned, but whether by force I don’t know.”

“How long have you believed in Anarchy?”—“Well, I believed in it shortly after I joined the organization—as soon as I came to think on the subject.”

“You have been progressing from Socialism to Anarchism; and if you cannot convince the majority of the United States to your opinions, you propose to compel them by force?”—Objected to.

“How long have you preached Anarchy?”—Objected to.

“Was there any English-speaking group in the city that you know of?”—Objected to.

“Did you ever attend any meeting of any English-speaking group other than the American group in this city of that kind?”—“We tried to found one a year ago last winter on West Indiana street. I think we only held two meetings, and then we abandoned it.”

“Any other group of them that you attended?”—“I don’t remember any now.”

“You have for the last two or three years been making speeches of Socialistic and Anarchistic character?”—“I have been making labor speeches; they were not always Socialistic or Anarchistic speeches.”

“But you have made Socialistic and Anarchistic speeches?”—“Well, I have touched on Anarchy and Socialism, and sometimes my speeches might have been considered from the ordinary trades union standpoint, for all the anarchy there was in them.”

“Have you ever made speeches on the Lake front and other Socialistic meetings?”—“Yes, on the Lake front, some on Market square, Twelfth street, Turner hall, and at No. 106 Randolph street.”

“Look at the copy of the Alarm of June 27, 1885, ‘Dynamite; Instructions Regarding Its Use and Operation,’ and signed ‘A. S.’ Say whether you ever saw it.”—“I don’t know that I have.”

“Was there any reason why you did not walk when you started home that night?”—“Yes. I did not wish to be arrested that night.”

“You expected that you would be arrested?”—“Well, after that trouble I expected to be arrested.”

“WouYou were speaking when the police came up, and were making no inflammatory speech?”—“I did not incite anybody to do anything, to do any overt act. I told the people in general to resist the present socialistic system that oppressed them, and gave them no chance to earn a living.”

“And yet you expected to be arrested?”—“I had read something of criminal proceedings, and I knew that the police would arrest everybody connected with that meeting in order to find the one who was responsible. I made an explanation before the Coroner’s jury because I had a different idea of the police at that time. I thought if I made that statement and they inquired into the truth and were convinced of my innocence they would let me go. But I now see that I was mistaken.”

“Did the police indict you?”—“I don’t know who indicted me.”

Redirect—“You have heard what has been said about your expression of throttling the law, of killing it, of stabbing it. Just state the explanation which you said you desired to make in regard to that.”—“Well, it was just the explanation that a public orator would make when he was denouncing a political party. When he said he wanted to get rid of the Democratic party, for instance, he would kill it, stab it, or make way with it. The words would rush away with a public speaker, and in the hurry he could not add a lengthy explanation.”

“You also read the reporter’s notes in regard to snails and worms and said there was no connection there. What were your words in reference to snails and worms, and the idea that you now remember?”—“Well, the idea that I intended to convey at that time was that when men were thrown out of work through no fault of their own, and it being a fact that has been proven and asserted on the floor of the House of Representatives that over a million of men are out of employment through no fault of their own—these men being driven about, become degraded and loathsome, and people look upon them with contempt, and yet it is no fault of their own; they have no part in producing the condition of things that throws them out of employment, and leads them to their abject condition.”

“You did not know of the presence of a dynamite bomb or anything of that kind in the crowd?”—“No, sir; I did not even know of the presence of an unusual number of police at the station. I did not know that till after the meeting.”

Henry Schultz, an elderly German, testified that “from 9 o’clock until the fight was over I was on the Haymarket; I stood in the middle of the steetstreet, a little north of the wagon.”

“How long had you been in Chicago at that time?”—“Two weeks. I am a tourist.” [Laughter.]

“Have you been in the habit of attending meetings in the street?”—“No; but since I have been here seeing the sights I would stop at anything.”

“Before the police came, did you see anything disorderly?”—“It was, as I know, peaceable, like a Fourth of July.”

“Do you remember the speech of the first speaker?”—“I know the run of his talk; I kept it in my mind. He said, ‘I didn’t want to come here. Then they called me a coward, and I didn’t like to be called a coward, and that is the reason I came.’ A few words after that he said: ‘They are only 500 yards from here. Maybe by to-morrow morning I will have to die.’ I kept that on my mind. I left the meeting when the black cloud came up, and when the bomb exploded I looked around the corner, and I saw everything dark, and I thought the bomb must have blown out the lights.” [Laughter.]

“What else did you seeesee?”—“I saw the policemen and they were all around. They had the ground. I saw some of the workmen run—they were about two blocks ahead of the police.”

“Did you see the police come upon the working men?”—“They came pretty strong in Lake street, and they had the men in the gutter, and when they raised up they got another club.”

Mr. Grinnell—“What is your business?”—“Doing nothing,” replied Mr. Schultz, with a grin at the crowd, and the crowd laughed in a guarded way, because they did not wish to be fired out of the entertainment.

“How long have you been conducting that business?”—“About ten years. Before that I was mining in Montana.”

“Where is your house in Portage City?”—“The next house to the courthouse,” responded the witness with a cunning look at the Court, and there was another wild outburst of mirth from the audience. Mr. Schultz narrated a part of his early history, from which it appeared that before he became a millionaire he played the fiddle at dances; and in answer to a question as to when he began to be a musician, he said: “From nine years old. My father was a musician—it runs in the family.”

“Do you play the violin since you have been in Chicago?”—“No; my money reaches so that I don’t have to do anything.” [Laughter.]

“The first speaker was Spies, wasn’t it?”—“Oh, I can’t promise anything,” said Mr. Schultz, with a contortion of countenance which brought down the house. Judge Gary looked indignantly around and said: “Oh! be quiet!” and the crowd immediately became as demure as a Quaker meeting.

“What did Spies say about the police being so many feet away?”—“He said they was only five hundred yards from here and he was likely to die before morning. That was about all he said in that run of speech.”

“Did you hear the first speaker say anything about ‘To arms! to arms!’?”—“That was the man—I heard him.”

“Where did you go when you left the meeting?”—“I went to wash my feet!”

The expression on Mr. Schultz’s face, and the simplicity of the answer, upset the decorum of the spectators and they laughed right out in meetin’, regardless of the threatened penalitypenalty for such a glaring contempt of court. Judge Gary himself, however, assisted in the hilarity, and was very lenient with the offenders, a fellow-feeling evidently making him wondrous kind. Mr. Schultz a moment afterward had an opportunity to correct the impression that he was in the habit of touring around the streets of Chicago in his bare feet.

“Did you have your boots off when you were washing your feet?”—“Oh, no; I didn’t wash my feet; I only washed the mud off my boots in one of them horse-troughs.” Then Mr. Schultz treated the company to a choice selection of facial contortions, and got down out of the chair with the air of a man who has done his duty, his whole duty, and nothing but his duty.

MICHAEL SCHWAB.

The defendant, Michael Schwab, was put on the stand Monday, August 9. He testified that he went to the Arbeiter Zeitung office on the evening of May 4. A telephone message was received requesting Spies to speak at a meeting near Deering’s Harvester works, on Clybourn avenue. The witness said he went to the Haymarket to find Spies, but failed. He did see Rudolph Schnaubelt, his brother-in-law, there. Witness then took a street car and went up Clybourn avenue; spoke twenty minutes at the meeting; stepped into a saloon and got a few glasses of beer, and then went to his home, on Florimond street, arriving about 11 o’clock P. M.

Mr. Foster asked: “Were you ever in the alley at Crane Bros.’ that night with Mr. Spies?”—“No, sir.”

“Did you walk west on Randolph street with Mr. Spies two blocks, then return with him?”—“No, sir.”

“Did you see Mr. Spies that night?”—“No, sir.”

“Did you see Mr. Spies hand your brother-in-law a package that night in the alley at Crane Bros.’, and did you say anything like this: ‘If that won’t be enough, shall we get another one?’”—“No, sir.”

“Did you see Mr. Spies at all that night?”—“No, sir.”

“When did you see him at all for the last time that day?”—“In the afternoon. I did not see him again until the next morning.”

Schwab said he had been a member of the Internationalist society since its organization. On the night of May 4 he went to the Haymarket on foot and walked through the Washington street tunnel. Balthazar Rau accompanied him as far west as Desplaines street.

“Are you an Anarchist?” asked Mr. Grinnell.—“It depends on what you mean. There are several definitions of that.”

“Answer my question. Are you an Anarchist?”—“I can’t answer that.”

AUGUST SPIES.

Schwab stepped down and Spies took the stand. “Give your full name to the jury,” said Captain Black.

“August Vincent Theodore Spies,” replies the prisoner.

He is thirty-one years old, and came to this county from Germany in 1872. Spies speaks with a marked accent, but very distinctly. He is cool and collected apparently, and sits back in the witness chair very much at ease.

He has been a member of the Socialistic Publishing Society, and that concern exercised control over the policy of the Arbeiter Zeitung, of which paper the witness was editor for six years. Spies said he was at a meeting on the “black road” on May 3. Spies reached the meeting on the “black road” about 3 o’clock in the afternoon. There was a crowd of perhaps three thousand present. Some men were speaking, but they were very poor speakers, and the crowd was not interested. Balthazar Rau was with him, and introduced him to the chairman of the meeting. It was called for the purpose of discussing the eight-hour question. While Spies was there a committee was appointed to wait on the bosses; then he was introduced, and spoke for possibly twenty minutes. Spies went on:

“I was almost prostrated. I had been speaking two or three times daily for the past two or three weeks, and was very much worn. I did not jump around and wave my hands as one witness testified here on the stand, and I made a very common-place, ordinary speech. I told the men to hold together, to stand by their union, or they would not succeed. That was the substance of what I said. While I was speaking some one cried out in an unknown tongue, and about two hundred men detached themselves from the crowd and went on to McCormick’s. Pretty soon I heard firing, and on inquiring what was the matter was told the men had attacked McCormick’s men, and that the police were firing on them. I stopped for about five minutes, was elected a member of the committee; then I went to McCormick’s. A lot of cars were standing on the tracks. The men were hiding behind these cars, others were running, while the police were firing on the flying people. The sight of this made my blood boil. At that time I could have done almost anything, I was so excited. A young Irishman came out from behind one of the cars. I think he knew me and said: ‘What kind of —— business is this? There are two men over there dead; the police have killed them.’ I asked him how many were killed. He said five or six, and that twenty-five or thirty were injured. I came down town then and wrote the report which appeared in the Arbeiter Zeitung the next day.”

“Did you write the ‘Revenge Circular’?”—“Yes; only I did not write the word ‘Revenge.’”

“Can you tell how that word happened to be put in the circular?”—“I cannot.”

“How many of those circulars were distributed?”—“About twenty-five hundred.”

“How soon was it written after your return to the office?”—“Immediately.”

“At that time were you still laboring under the excitement incident to the riot?”—“I was.”

“What was your state of mind?”—“I was very indignant. I knew from experience of the past that this butchering of people was done for the express purpose of defeating the eight-hour movement.”

Spies is growing excited. Mr. Grinnell objects. The Court says his last answer is not proper and orders it stricken from the record.

“On the evening of May 4 you attended the Haymarket meeting?”—“I did.”

“You were asked to speak there?”—“I was.”

“When did you learn there was to be a meeting?”—“About 8 o’clock that morning. I was advised there was to be a meeting and was asked to address it.”

“What time did you reach there?”—“About 8:20 o’clock.”

“Did you see the notice of that meeting in the Arbeiter Zeitung?”—“Yes; I put it in myself.”

“Did you see a circular that day, calling for a meeting at the Haymarket?”—“Yes. It was the circular containing the line: ‘Working men, arm yourselves and appear in full force.’ When I read that line I said: ‘If this is the meeting I am to address I will not speak.’ He asked why. I said on account of that line. He said the circulars had not been distributed, and I said: ‘If the line is taken out I will go.’ Fischer was sent for and he told the men to have that line taken out.”

“Who was this man that brought the circulars?”—“He was on the stand; Gruenberg is his name, I think.”

“Was there any torch on the wagon?”—“No; I think the sky was clear and that the lamp was burning near the corner of the alley.”

“Was that selection made by yourself, or upon consultation?”—“Well, I consulted with my brother Henry. He was with me all evening.”

“After you got them together, what did you do?”—“Some one suggested we had better move the wagon around on Randolph street, but I said that might impede the street cars. Then I asked where was Parsons. I was not on the committee of arrangements and had nothing to do with the meeting except to speak. One Schroder said Parsons was speaking then at the corner of Halsted and Randolph streets, and I went up to find him with my brother Henry and Schnaubelt.”

“Did you see Schwab?”—“No, I did not. Schnaubelt told me Schwab had gone to Deering’s.”

“Did you go to Crane’s alley with Schwab?”—“I could not very well do that, as I had not seen him that night.”

“Just answer the question,” cried Mr. Ingham.—“Well, I did not go to the alley. I did not even know there was an alley there.” The witness denies the conversation Mr. Thompson alleges he overheard Spies engage in with Schwab. He said Schnaubelt cannot speak any English—that he has only been about two years in the country.

“Did Schwab say to you that evening: ‘Now, if they come, we are prepared for them’?”—“No, sir; I did not see him that evening.”

“Did you talk with Schwab on the east side of Desplaines street, about twelve feet south of the alley that evening?”—“I did not. I was not anywhere near that alley with any man.”

“You remember what the witness Thompson said, that he saw you walk with Schnaubelt east on Randolph street; that he saw you hand him something; that you then returned to the meeting together. Is that true?”—“It is not. That man told a different story before the coroner’s jury.”

This last answer is ordered stricken out, and Spies was told to say nothing but in answer to questions. Spies was asked to tell what he said at the meeting. It was a short synopsis of the existing state of the labor world. First, he said that the meeting was to be a peaceable one; that it was not called for the purpose of creating trouble. Attention was directed to the strike at East St. Louis, where those who were active in the riots there were not Socialists nor Anarchists, but church-going people, and honest, sincere Christians. It was admitted by students that society was retrograding; the masses were being degraded under the excessive work they had to carry on. For twenty years the working men asked in vain for two hours less work a day, and that finally they resolved to take the matter in their own hands and help themselves. “About this time I saw Parsons, then I broke off. I was not in a state to make a speech. I was tired. I introduced Parsons, and he proceeded to address the meeting.”

“What was the size of the crowd then?”—“About two thousand persons.”

“Where did you go after finishing your speech?”—“I remained on the wagon.”

“You spoke in English?”—“Yes. I made no speech in German that night. I was asked to do so, but was too tired. I introduced Fielden and he made a brief speech, then we intended to go home.”

“What did Parsons say in his speech?”—“Parsons made a pretty good speech. He said of the dollar earned by the working men they got only fifteen cents, while the pharisaical class got eighty-five cents, and that the eight-hour movement was a still-hunt for that eighty-five cents.”

“What do you remember of Fielden’s speech?”—“Well, Fielden did not say much. I don’t remember now what he did say.”

“Were you on the wagon when the police came?”—“Yes. I saw the police on Randolph street.”

“At that time what was the size of the meeting?”—“It was as good as adjourned. About two-thirds of those present went, some going to Zephf’s hall when the black cloud came up.”

“What did you hear when the command to disperse was given?”—“I was standing in the middle of the wagon, back of Fielden. I heard Captain Ward say; ‘I command you, in the name of the people of Illinois, to disperse.’ Captain Ward had a cane or club in his hand. FidldenFielden said to him: ‘Captain, this is a peaceable meeting.’ I started to get down out of the wagon. My brother Henry and one Legner helped me down. I was indignant at the thought that the police had come to disperse the meeting, as it was a quiet one. Just as soon as I reached the ground I heard a loud detonation. I thought the police had a cannon to frighten the people. I did not dream for a moment of a bomb, and I did not even then think the police were firing at the crowd. I thought the police were firing over their heads.”

“Where did you go to?”—“I was pushed along by the crowd. I went to Zephf’s hall.”

“Did you at any time that night get down from the wagon and go into an alley and light a bomb in the hands of Rudolph Schnaubelt?”—“I never did.”

“Did you see Schnaubelt in the alley that night while Fischer was there?”—“I did not.”

“You remember the witness Gilmer?”—“Yes.”

“Is his story true?”—“Not a word of it.”

“You remember Wilkinson, the reporter for the Daily News?”—“Yes. I had a conversation with him in January.”

“Well, go on and tell us about it.”—“He was introduced to me by Joe Gruenhut. He said he wanted to get some data wherewith to prepare an article on Anarchism, Socialism and dynamite, and all that. I happened to have four shells in my office. I had them for about three years. A man on his way to New Zealand gave me two bombs; another man some time after called at my office with two bombs, and wanted to know if their construction was proper. That’s how I came to possess them. He wanted one to show to Mr. Stone. I let him take it. We went to dinner at a restaurentrestaurant, and we conversed about society, its present state, and the trouble that was likely to ensue. We spoke about street warfare, as all this was contained in the papers every day. There was constant talk that so many wild-eyed Socialists were arriving every day, and I told him it was an open secret that there were 3,000 armed Socialists in Chicago, and we spoke about revolutions, and I said that in past ages gun-powder had come to the assistance of the down-trodden masses, and that dynamite was a child of the same parent, and was a great leveler.”

“Do you remember the toothpick illustration?”—“Yes. I remember that, and also re-call speaking of the Washington street tunnel, saying how easy comparatively few men could hold that tunnel against a body of soldiers, but nothing was said about Chicago, nor was any time fixed for the revolution.”

“You wrote the word ‘Ruhe’ for insertion in the Arbeiter Zeitung May 4?”—“I did.”

“How did you come to do that?”—“The night before at 11 o’clock I received a letter as follows: Mr. Editor: Please insert in to-day’s letter-box the word ‘Ruhe’ in prominent letters.”

“At that time did you know there was any import attached to the word?”—“I did not.”

“When did you next hear of it?”—“The next afternoon Balthazar Rau asked me if the word was in the paper. I said: ‘Yes.’ He asked me if I knew the meaning. I said: ‘No.’ Then he said: ‘The armed section had a meeting last night and adopted the word ‘Ruhe’ as a signal to keep their powder dry and be in readiness in case the police precipitated a riot.’ I asked if that had anything to do with the meeting I was to address at the Haymarket, and he said: ‘Oh, no; that’s something the boys got up themselves.’ I said it was very foolish, that it was not rational, and asked if there was no way in which it could be undone. Rau then went to see the people of the armed section and told them the word was put in by mistake.”

“Were you a member of the armed section?”—“No, not for six year.”

“Did you ever have dynamite and a fuse in your desk?”—“Yes, I had two packages of giant powder and some fuse in my desk for two years. I had them chiefly to show to reporters, they bothered me a good deal. They always wanted some sensation. Then, too, I wanted the dynamite to study it; I had read a great deal about explosives.”

“Do you know anything about a package of dynamite found on the shelf in the closet of the Arbeiter Zeitung?”—“Ab-so-lute-ly nothing.”

“Do you know anything about a revolver that was found in the Arbeiter Zeitung office?”—“No. I do not. I carried a revolver myself, but it was a good one.”

“Did you carry a revolver?”—“Yes. I always thought it was a good thing to be prepared. I was out late at night a good deal.”

“Did you have a revolver that night?”—“No, it was too heavy. I left it with ex-Ald. Frank Stauber.”

“You were arrested May 5?”—“Yes.”

“Tell us how.”—“Well, an officer—James Bonfield, I think—came to my office and asked for Schwab. He said Chief Ebersold would like to see him. Schwab asked me if he should go. I said yes, he might. Then the officer turned to me and asked me if my name was Spies. I said yes. Then he said Superintendent Ebersold would like to see me about that affair of last night. I went over there, unsuspectingly. I was never so treated before in all my life.”

“Tell what happened?”—“Well, as soon as I got into the station Superintendent Ebersold started at me. He said: ‘You dirty Dutch dog; you hound; you whelp—you, we will strangle you! We will kill you!’ Then they jumped on us, tore us apart from each other. I never said anything. Then they searched us, took our money, even our handkerchiefs, and would not return them to us. I was put in a cell, and have not had my liberty since.”

Mr. Ingham cross-examined the witness. Spies said he came to this country when seventeen years old, and that he has lived in Chicago some thirteen years. The Arbeiter Zeitung was controlled by what Spies termed an “autonomous editorial arrangement;” that is, the powers of the several editors were co-ordinate, but the general policy of the paper was under the supervision of the board of trustees.

“Did you ever receive any money for the Alarm?”—“Yes.”

“Did you ever pay out any money for the Alarm?”—“Yes.”

“Did you ever write any articles for the Alarm?”—“I may have.”

“How many bombs did you have in the Arbeiter Zeitung office?”—“Four, I think. Two I got from a man named Schwab. I forget now. He was a shoemaker. He went to New Zealand.”

“How did this man come to give you those bombs?”—“He came to me and asked me if my name was Spies. I said yes. Then he asked me if I had seen any of the bombs they were making. I said no. Then he left them with me.”

“Who did he mean by ’they’?”—“I don’t know.”

“Didn’t he say who they were?”—“No.”

“And you never saw him before or since?”—“No, sir.”

“And when did you get these czar bombs?”—“I never got them. That is an invention of that reporter. A man came there while I was at dinner and left them there. He left the bombs with the bookkeeper. I never saw him before or after.”

Mr. Ingham introduced a letter and a postal card found in Spies’ desk, the reading of which, as translated by Mr. Gauss, created a great sensation. Spies acknowledged the writing as addressed to him by Johann Most, the noted Anarchist:

“DEAR SPIES:—Are you sure that the letter from the Hocking Valley was not written by a detective? In the week I will go to Pittsburgh, I have an inclination also to go to the Hocking Valley. For the present I send you some printed matter. There Sch. and H. also existed but on paper. I told you this some months ago. On the other hand, I am able to furnish “medicine”, and the “genuine” article at that. Directions for use are perhaps not needed with these people. Moreover, they were recently published in the “Fr.” The appliances I can also send. Now, if you consider the address of Buchtell thoroughly reliable, I will ship twenty or twenty-five pounds. But how? Is there an express line to the place? Or is there another way possible? Polus the great seems to delight in hopinghopping about in the swamps of the N. Y. V. Z., like a blown-up (bloated) frog. His tirades excite general detestation. He has made himself immensely ridiculous. The main thing is only that the fellow cannot smuggle any more rottonrotten elements into the newspaper company than are already in it. In this regard the caution is important. The organization here is no better nor worse than formerly. Our group has about the strength of the North side group in Chicago, and then, besides this, we have also the soc. rev. 6, the Austrian and Bohemian leagues—three more groups. Finally, it is easily seen that our influence with the trade organizations is steadily growing. We insert our meetings only in the Fr., and cannot notice that they are worse attended than at the time when we yet threw the weekly $1.50 and $2 into the mouth of the N. Y. V. Z. Don’t forget putting yourself into communication with Drury in reference to the English organ. He will surely work with you much and well. Such a paper is more necessary than the Tooth. This, indeed, is getting more miserable and confused from issue to issue, and in general is whistling from the last hole. Inclosed is a fly-leaf which recently appeared at Emden, and is, perhaps, adopted for reprint. Greetings to Schwab, Rau, and to you. Your

“JOHANN MOST.

“P.S.—To Buchtell I will, of course, write for the present only in general terms.

“A. Spies, 107 Fifth avenue, Chicago, Ill.”

Mr. Gauss then read the following as his translation of the postal card:

“DEAR SPIES:—I had scarcely mailed my letter yesterday when the telegraph brought news from H. M. One does not know whether to rejoice over that or not. The advance in itself is elevating. Sad is the circumstance that it will remain local and therefore may not have the result. At any rate, these people made a better impression than the foolish voters on this and the other side of the ocean. Greeting and a hail. Your

“J. M.”

W. A. S. Graham, a reporter for The Times, testified that he talked with the witness for the prosecution, Harry Gilmer, on the afternoon of May 5, and that Gilmer said the man who threw the bomb lit the fuse himself. “He said he saw the man light the fuse and throw the bomb, and that he could identify him again if he saw him. He said the man was of medium size and had a soft hat and whiskers. He said the man’s back was turned to him.”

At this stage the defense rested, and evidence in rebuttal was introduced. Justice Daniel Scully testified that in the preliminary examination of one Frank Steuner, charged with shooting from the wagon at the Haymarket, Officers Foley and Wessler did not testify that it was Steuner who fired on the police.

“Did the officers not say the man who jumped up from behind the wagon was a heavy man, with long whiskers (Fielden)?”—“They did.”

“Did not Officer Foley say he would be able to identify this man if he ever saw him again?”—“He did.”

John B. Ryan, an attorney who defended Steuner before Justice Scully, testified that Steuner said at the time that the man who did the shooting was a short, heavy-set man with full whiskers.

United States District Attorney R. S. Tuthill, Charles B. Dibble, an attorney, Judge Chester C. Cole, of Des Moines, Iowa, E. R. Mason, Clerk of the United States District Court at Des Moines, George Crist, Ex-City Marshal of Des Moines, and Ex-Governor Samuel Merrill of Iowa, all testified to the good character of the witness Gilmer. They would believe him under oath. Governor Merrill had known Gilmer since 1872, and had given him employment.

As the great trial drew toward its close popular interest in the proceedings increased. The Criminal Court building was crowded with people daily long before the hour for opening court arrived, and many times the number who gained admission were turned away. On the day of the closing argument by the prosecution, and while the jury were deliberating over their verdict, extra precautions were taken to protect the administrators of the law. A cordon of police and deputy sheriffs surrounded the building, and no one was allowed to enter who could not be properly identified.