“I have been five years in the country; in Chicago about two years and a half. When I first came to the country, I was private teacher of the Russian language in Brooklyn. I taught Paesig, the editor of the Brooklyn Freie Presse. He is not a revolutionist; his paper is not a revolutionary one. Then I went to Little Rock for about half a year, working as a printer for the Arkansas Staats-Zeitung. Then I went to St. Louis for about three months, found no work there, and came to Chicago. I had no letter of introduction to Spies when I came here. I had obtained my position at Little Rock through a letter of introduction from Mr. Spies, whom I knew by some correspondence in regard to a novel which Mr. Paesig and I translated and sold to the Arbeiter-Zeitung. It was not a revolutionary novel. I did not get that letter of introduction from Mr. Spies through Herr Most. I have seen Most, but don’t know him personally. I know Justus Schwab. I did not live with him, but had letters directed to his care. When I came to Chicago I went directly to Spies. For about half a year I was without employment; then, for a year and a half, up to May 4th, I was reporter on the Arbeiter-Zeitung. I roomed with Balthasar Rau for about four months; part of that time was after the Haymarket meeting. I had been at Zepf’s Hall for more than an hour before I heard the bomb explode, part of the time in the saloon, part of the time attending the meeting up-stairs. When I came down again in the saloon it was a good half hour before the bomb exploded. I was there alone, standing near the counter, where I had one glass of beer. When I was talking with Mr. Allen, we stood on the floor between the stove and the bar.

“When the bomb exploded we made a few steps toward the rear. Mr. Allen thought it was a Gatling gun; it sounded like a Gatling gun. A few seconds after that the shooting began, and a good many people came to the hall. A good many had been there before that. When the crowd came, we rushed out the back door.

“I did not belong to any Nihilistic organization in Russia. I was not a Nihilist in Russia. I am not in this country as the agent of the Nihilists, or any other society in Russia. The reporters used to call me a Nihilist because I was a Russian, that is all. This letter here (indicating) is in my handwriting, and has my signature at the bottom. I don’t remember to whom I wrote it. I am now working for the Moscow Gazette, an illustrated paper.”

Dear Mr. Editor:—The articles I send you herewith you may read, put them into proper form, and, if you consider them competent, reprint them in one of your papers. I have also nearly completed a very interesting article treating of the secret revolutionary societies of Russia, in the so-called Dekabrists—that is, of 1820 to 1830. I have also another one in my thoughts, but, being out of work, and having no dwelling-place, it is entirely impossible to give even a few hours daily to writing. You see, I am writing in German, which I can do—i. e., I translate every sentence, word for word, from the Russian. You have in this connection the not easy task to set the corrupted German right. I hope you will pardon me for this. At the time I came over here I did not understand one German word. Thanks to Wassilisson, which I translated with the help of a dictionary, I have learned this little. For your letter I am very thankful to you. I would, of course, follow your accommodating invitation, and would have left New York long ago, but unfortunately it does not depend upon me. I am a proletarian in the fullest sense of the word, and a proletarian is not favored to put his ideas into execution.

Respectfully,————Michael Malkoff.

Care of J. H. Schwab, 50 First Street, New York. Written on the 22d of October, 1883.

“I used to make addresses to the working people. Never missed an opportunity to show the injustice which they are laboring under. I have been chairman of the American group; addressed meetings of the group from time to time. I never talked to people on the lake front. I read the Alarm every time it came out.”

“How long have you been a Socialist?”

“Well, I was born one.”

“I was born in Ireland; came to this country some thirty-four years ago. The first organization of Socialists I joined was in the city of Chicago, about 1881. I did not know Parsons at that time. I became acquainted with Parsons about two or two and a half years ago. When the bomb exploded, Parsons and I jumped up. I did not go out with Parsons from the rear door. I did not go out until some time after the explosion. I next saw Parsons on the corner of Kinzie and Desplaines Streets, when he was with Mrs. Parsons and Mrs. Holmes. Parsons asked me what I would do in his case. We separated on the corner. I went north, and I think Parsons went east.”

“What was the conversation you had with Parsons?”

“I told him I would leave for a while, under the circumstances. He said: ‘What do you think I had better do?’ I told him: ‘Suit yourself, you are your own boss. You must use your own judgment.’ I then loaned him five dollars. Parsons did not say to me that he could not get away because he had no money. He simply asked me for five dollars, and I lent it to him. I did not state to the State’s Attorney, at the Central Station, in the presence of Mr. Furthmann, James Bonfield, Lieut. Shea and others, that Parsons had said he had no money to get away with; that I advised him to go, and that I would lend him five dollars. I used to buy the Alarm every time it came out, and used to read it. I had stock in the paper.”

“I came to this country from Germany four years ago. I have lived in Chicago two years. I am a carpenter.”

“Where did the armed section of the Northwest group drill?”

“I don’t know an armed section of the Northwest group. I don’t know of a single time that the Northwest group drilled. I know of a paper called the Anarchist. I distributed it three or four times. I saw Fischer on Monday, May 3, between five and half-past five, at the Arbeiter-Zeitung, in the compositors’ room. I did not see Fischer at any other place on Monday. I saw him on Sunday afternoon at my house, 570 West Superior Street. I did not see him Sunday morning at any place.”

“Were you at home all the morning yourself?”

The defense objected to this question.

The Court—“You have put this witness on the stand for the purpose of showing a thing was taken out, a particular circular. Whether he has told that thing as it occurred depends in some degree upon what his associations, feelings, inclinations, biases are in reference to the whole business.”

Mr. Black—“Whether he has told the truth in regard to that depends upon his bias and inclinations?”

The Court—“Whether it is to be believed—I don’t mean whether he has told the truth.”

“I don’t remember whether I was home on that Sunday morning,” continued the witness. “I was not on Emma Street that Sunday morning. I have known Spies a year and a half; saw him at the Arbeiter-Zeitung and at several Socialistic meetings; once at our group, the other times I don’t remember where. I have known Neebe for a short time by sight. I have known Schwab as long as Spies; saw him at our group. He did not belong to the group. He made a speech once every few months. I know Lingg since the 1st of May. I met him at the Carpenters’ Union, not any other place.”

“My name has been Holmes since November 26th last. Before that my name was Swank. All articles in the Alarm under which the initials L. M. S. appear are my articles. I wrote an article under date of April 23d, 1886, headed, ‘It is Coming.’ I meant it in the same way that any prophet means anything, judging from events of past history. I was a member of the American group of the Internationale. That night I went home with Mrs. Parsons and staid there over night. Mr. Parsons did not go home that night. I left him on the corner of Kinzie. I am an Anarchist as I understand Anarchy. I have known Spies about three years, Fielden about four years. The latter was a stockholder in the paper, and I believe complaints were directed to him. I was sometimes absent for a whole week from the Arbeiter-Zeitung building. I wrote my articles at home and at various places. I don’t think I have ever been at the Arbeiter-Zeitung building more than six or eight times. I can’t remember where the Bureau of Information for the Internationale was. I suppose it was in the Arbeiter-Zeitung.

“I never advocated arson, or advised persons to commit arson in my life. I wrote the article entitled ‘Notice to Tramps,’ in the April 24th number of the Alarm, which reads:

“In a beautiful town, not far from Chicago, lives a large class of cultivated, well-informed people. They have Shakespeare, Lowell, Longfellow and Whittier at their tongues’ ends, and are posted in history and grow enthusiastic over the wickedness of the safely abolished institutions of the past. They say eloquent things about old fugitive slave laws, etc., which made it criminal to feed and shelter a starving human being if he were black. Posted at the roadside, in the hotels and stores, is a ‘Notice to Tramps,’ an abominable document which compares well with the old notices to runaway negroes which used to deface similar buildings. It is against the law to feed a tramp. You are liable to a fine if you give a cup of coffee and a piece of bread to a fellow-man who needs it and asks you for it. This is a Christian community, under the flag of the free. Look out, you wretched slaves. If, after toiling through your best years, you are suddenly thrown out of a job along with thousands of others, do not start out to hunt for work, for you will strike plenty of such towns as this. You must not walk from town to town. You must not stay where you are in idleness—you must move on. You must not ride—you have no money, and those tracks and cars you helped to build are not for such as you. You must not ask for anything to eat, or a place to sleep. You must not lie down and die, for then you would shock people’s morals. What are you to do? Great heavens! Jump into the lake? Fly up into the air? Or stay—have you a match about you?”

“I wrote that article deliberately; it speaks for itself. I don’t think it needs any explanation from me.”

“On May 4th last I took a load of stone to Waldheim Cemetery. I had engaged to speak that night at 268 Twelfth Street, and intended to go there. When I got home in the evening I bought a copy of the Daily News and there saw the announcement of a meeting of the American group to be held at 107 Fifth Avenue, that night. I believe it said important business. I was the treasurer of the American group, and as such had all the money it was worth. We should have had our semi-annual election the Sunday previous; besides, I thought that some money would be wanted, as important business was announced, so I determined to go to that meeting instead of to the meeting at which I had engaged to speak. I arrived at 107 Fifth Avenue about ten minutes before eight. I was there when some telephoning was done with reference to the Deering meeting. The witnesses who have detailed that occurrence are substantially correct. After I had entered the room I asked what the meeting was called for, and a gentleman named Patterson, who was not a member of our organization, showed me a hand-bill, which did not call that meeting, but had reference to the organization of the sewing women. I paid, as treasurer, five dollars to those who had laid out the costs of printing those hand-bills, and who might need a little money for car-fare in going around to hire halls, and other incidental expenses. Schwab must have left there about ten or fifteen minutes past eight. During the progress of the meeting a request was received from the Haymarket meeting for speakers, in response to which Parsons and I went over. Mr. Parsons, I believe, brought his two children down-stairs and gave them a drink of water in the saloon; then we walked together through the tunnel, and from about the west end of the tunnel I walked with Mr. Snyder, with whom I had a conversation. Spies spoke about five minutes longer after we had arrived there; then he introduced Mr. Parsons. During Parsons’ speech I was on the wagon. After he concluded I was introduced by Mr. Spies to make a short speech. I did not wish to speak, but Mr. Spies urged me, and I did speak about twenty minutes. I referred to some adverse criticism of the Socialists by an evening paper, which had called the Socialists cowards and other uncomplimentary names, and I told the audience that that was not true; that the Socialists were true to the interests of the laboring classes and would continue to advocate the rights of labor. I then spoke briefly of the condition of labor. I referred to the classes of people who were continually posing as labor reformers for their own benefit, and who had never done anything to benefit the laboring classes, but had at all times approved the cause of labor, in order to get themselves into office. To substantiate this, I cited the case of Martin Foran, who, in a speech in Congress on the arbitration bill that was brought in by the labor committee, had stated that the working classes of this country could get nothing through legislation in Congress, and that only when the rich men of this country understood that it was dangerous to live in a community where there were dissatisfied people would the labor problem be solved. Somebody in the audience cried out, ‘That is not true,’ or ‘That is a lie.’ Then I went over it again, adding words like these: That here was a man who had been on the spot for years, had experience, and knew what could be done there, and this was his testimony. It was not the testimony of a Socialist. Then I went on to state that under such circumstances the only way in which the working people could get any satisfaction from the gradually decreasing opportunities for their living—the only thing they could do with the law would be to throttle it. I used that word in a figurative sense. I said they should throttle it, because it was an expensive article to them and could do them no good. I then stated that men were working all their lifetime, their love for their families influencing them to put forth all their efforts, that their children might have a better opportunity of starting in the world than they had had. And the facts, the statistics of Great Britain and the United States, would prove that every year it was becoming utterly impossible for the younger generation, under the present system, to have as good an opportunity as the former ones had had.

“Mr. Spies asked me, before I commenced, to mention that the Chicago Herald had advised the labor organizations of this city to boycott the red flag. I briefly touched on that, and told them not to boycott the red flag, because it was the symbol of universal freedom and universal liberty.

“I was just closing my remarks about that point, when some one said it was going to rain. There was a dark, heavy cloud which seemed to be rolling over a little to the northwest of me. I looked at it, and some one proposed to adjourn the meeting to Zepf’s Hall. Somebody else said: ‘No, there is a meeting there,’ and I said: ‘Never mind; I will not talk very long; I will close in a few minutes, and then we will all go home.’ Then I advised them to organize as laboring men for their own protection—not to trust to any one else, but to organize among themselves and depend only upon themselves to advance their condition. I do not think I spoke one minute longer when I saw the police. I stopped speaking, and Capt. Ward came up to me and raised his hand—I do not remember whether he had anything in his hand or not—and said: ‘I command this meeting, in the name of the people of the State of Illinois, to peaceably disperse.’ I was standing up, and I said: ‘Why, Captain, this is a peaceable meeting,’ in a very conciliatory tone of voice, and he very angrily and defiantly retorted that he commanded it to disperse, and called, as I understood, upon the police to disperse it. Just as he turned around in that angry mood, I said: ‘All right, we will go,’ and jumped from the wagon, and jumped to the sidewalk. This is my impression, after being in jail now for over three months, and I am telling, as near as I can remember, every incident of it. Then the explosion came. I think I went in a somewhat southeasterly direction from the time that I struck the street. It was only a couple of steps to the sidewalk. I had just, I think, got onto the sidewalk when the explosion came, and, being in a diagonal position on the street, I saw the flash. The people began to rush past me. I was not decided in my own mind what it was, but I heard some one say ‘dynamite,’ and then in my own mind I assented that that was the cause of the explosion, and I rushed and was crowded with the crowd. There were some of them falling down, others calling out in agony, and the police were pouring shots into them. We tried to get behind some protection, but there were so many trying to get there that little protection was afforded. I then made a dash for the northeast corner of Randolph and Desplaines Streets, turned the corner and ran until I got to about Jefferson Street. Seeing there was no pursuit, I dropped into a fast walk. I turned on Clinton, intending at that time to go home.

“Immediately after the explosion of the bomb—I had possibly gone three or four steps—I was struck with a ball. I didn’t feel much pain at the time, in the excitement, but as I dropped into a walk down on Randolph Street I felt the pain, put my finger in the hole of my pants and felt my knee was wet. Then I concluded I had been shot. Walking down Clinton Street and intending to go home, I began to think about those that had been with me. Remembering about Mr. Spies being on the wagon at the time the police came up, I thought surely that some one of these men must have been killed from all of that shooting. I concluded to take a Van Buren Street car and ride down past the Arbeiter-Zeitung building and see if any one was there. I caught the car on the corner of Canal, but found that it was a car that runs directly east to State Street. I left the car on Fifth Avenue and walked down Fifth Avenue to Monroe Street. Of course, I was near the place and could have walked there, but I thought I was so well known in Newspaper Row by the reporters that if I should walk I should be known. So I jumped on the car and stood in front of it. I intended to go up to the Arbeiter-Zeitung building if I saw a light there; but there wasn’t any. I alighted near the corner of Randolph Street. Intending to go up to Parsons’ house, I took an Indiana Street car. When we got to Clinton Street the driver said: ‘Why, there is firing going on up there yet,’ and I saw a couple of flashes up near where I thought the Haymarket was, and I said, ‘If there is, I am not going up there.’ I then walked over on Jefferson Street north to Lake Street, and I saw a terrible crowd of people around there, and thought there might be a good many detectives there. So I turned back again, caught a Canalport Avenue car and rode down to the corner of Canal and Twelfth Streets. There I got my knee dressed by a young doctor who was on the stand here, as it was becoming very painful at that time.

“I feel sure that Mr. Spies was at my side when Capt. Ward was talking. I did not see him after I had spoken to Capt. Ward; I did not see him leave the wagon. I jumped off at the south end of the wagon into the street. While I was speaking I did not pay any attention to the people in the wagon, but I think I noticed four or five there a little previous to the police coming up. Mr. Snyder assisted me in getting on the wagon. He got on before I did. When I got down from the wagon Snyder was on the ground. I think I saw him on the sidewalk there. Of course I don’t remember everything as distinctly now as I did the next day. I had no revolver with me on the night of May 4th. I never had a revolver in my life. I did not fire at any person at the Haymarket meeting. I never fired at any person in my life. I did not, after leaving the wagon, step back between the wheels of the wagon and fire behind the cover of the wagon; I did not stay there. My whole course was from the wagon south, without stopping, except, perhaps, for the smallest perceptible space of time, when I was startled by the explosion.

“I first heard of the word ‘Ruhe’ having been published in the Arbeiter-Zeitung, and about any significance of that word, when I had been in the County Jail for some days. I never had seen or heard of the word before, and did not hear of it on May 4th at any time, and, as I understand it is a German word, I would not have known what it meant if I had seen it. I do not read German. There was no understanding or agreement to which I was a party, or of which I had knowledge, that violence should be used at the Haymarket meeting, or that arms or dynamite should be used there. I anticipated no trouble of that character. I did not use, upon the approach of the police, and did not hear from any person that night any such expression as: ‘There come the bloodhounds; you do your duty and I’ll do mine.’

“The first I heard of the Haymarket meeting was after I got to the American group meeting on the night of May 4th. I heard, for the first time, about a meeting held by certain persons on Monday night at 54 Lake Street, after I had been from ten to fourteen days in the County Jail, when I read a paper that the police had got track of some such a meeting. I wish to say, however, that I spoke to the wagon-makers on the upper floor of 54 Lake Street on that Monday night. I was never in the basement of that building, except to the water-closet under the sidewalk. I did not go down-stairs there at all on that Monday night, and did not hear of any meeting being held there until much later, when I read about it, as stated before.

“We drilled not over six times at 54 Lake Street, but nobody ever had arms there. I think it was proposed to call the organization the International Rifles, but I don’t think it was ever decided to call it so, as the organization was never perfected, never became an armed organization. We began to meet in August, and the last meetings must have been very near the end of September, 1885. There was no drilling during the winter and spring of 1885-’86. Once a few men belonging to the L. u. W. V. came in with their guns and shouldered arms, but they did not belong to the American group, and that is the only time that I ever saw any arms at any meeting of our organization.

“The shots that were pouring in thick and fast after the explosion of the bomb came from the street—I should judge from the police. I did not hear the explosion of anything before the explosion of the bomb. As I was rushing down the sidewalk, I heard no explosion of any arms among any of the citizens who had attended the meeting.

“I remember the testimony of the detective Johnson. I did not have the conversation which he testified to as having had with me in the presence of the older Mr. Boyd at Twelfth Street Turner Hall, nor at any other place, nor at any other time. I knew that he was a detective long before that, and I would not be fool enough to advocate anything of that kind, if I was a dynamiter, to him. The American group was open to everybody. It was not even necessary to have ten cents admission fee, but the fee was set at ten cents per month to cover the expense of paying for hall rent and advertising. On May 4th I returned home from my work about half past five. I bought the Evening News on the sidewalk just before I went into the house.

“On May 3d I took several loads of stone from Bodenschatz & Earnshaw’s stone dock, Harrison Street and the river, to different places in the city. I have worked for that firm three or four years. I owned my team and wagon, and they hired those and my services, and paid me by the day. I only worked three-quarters of a day on May 3d. Business was not brisk at that time. I have been a teamster for at least six years. I was arrested at my home at ten o’clock on the morning of May 5th. I was never before arrested in my life. I was taken to the Central Station by four or five detectives in citizens’ clothes, and have been confined ever since.

“I had no examination except that I was brought before the Coroner’s jury on the evening of May 5th. I did not state to Officer James Bonfield or anybody else, after my arrest at the station, or at any other time or place, that I escaped through Crane’s alley on the night of May 4th.”

“I worked in a cotton-mill in England at eight years of age, and continued to work in the same mill until I came to the United States. I worked my way up until I became a weaver, and when I left the mill I was what is called a binder; that is, binding the warps on the beams. I joined the International Working People’s Association in July, 1884, by joining the American group. I suppose I was an Anarchist soon after, as soon as I began to study it. I suppose that I have been a revolutionist, in the sense of evolutionary revolution, for some years. I don’t know that I have ever been positively of the belief that the existing order of things should be overthrown by force. I have always been of the belief, and am yet, that the existing order of things will have to be overthrown, either peaceably or by force. When I had the books of the American group it had about 175 members—that was last November. I don’t know how many have been added since. There were probably fifteen or twenty ladies among the members. It was called the American group because the English language was used in it. It was not confined to born Americans.

“We tried to found an English-speaking group a year ago last winter, on West Indiana Street. I think we had only two meetings and then abandoned it. I have been making speeches for the last two or three years. They were labor speeches—not always Socialistic and not always Anarchistic; that is, sometimes I have touched on Socialism and Anarchy; sometimes they were delivered from an ordinary trades-union standpoint. I have made a great many speeches on the lake front, some on Market Square, some at West Twelfth Street Turner Hall, some at 106 Randolph Street, some at 54 West Lake. The meetings on the lake front were on Sunday afternoons.”

“Did you make a speech on the night of the opening of the new Board of Trade?”

“I did. I have two dollars’ worth of stock in the Alarm. I was part of the committee to see what should be done about the Alarm when it began to get in deep water, and my name was proposed to be put on the paper as the recipient of communications as to its management.

“There were possibly twelve or fifteen members of the American group present at the meeting at 107 Fifth Avenue on May 4th. There were Mr. and Mrs. Parsons, Mr. and Mrs. Timmons, Mrs. Holmes, Snyder, Brown and some others. I am not positive whether Walters and Ducy were there. I think we staid there until nearly nine o’clock. Balthasar Rau came over from the Haymarket and said Spies was there and a large meeting, and no one else to speak. Some four or five of us went over together. I know that Rau, Parsons, myself and Snyder went about together. Schwab left the Zeitung office before us. I had promised, on Sunday night at Greif’s Hall, a man who had been to my house before, to speak at a labor meeting at either 368 or 378 West Twelfth Street that Tuesday night. Of those that were on the speakers’ wagon, I only remember Parsons, Spies and Snyder. There were some others there who were strangers to me. A boy about sixteen years of age came up on the wagon and rather crowded me to one side, and I told him he might as well stand down. I spoke because Mr. Spies requested me to make a short speech. Mr. Parsons had spoken longer than I thought he would, and I thought it was late enough to close. I don’t now remember whether or not I used this language: ‘There are premonitions of danger. All know it. The press say the Anarchists will sneak away. We are not going to.’ I have no desire to deny that I did use that language. If I used it—and I don’t know whether I did—if I had any idea in my mind at any time which would be expressed in that language, I know for what reasons I would have that idea. I used substantially all that language which Mr. English, the reporter, who was on the stand here, testified as having been used by me in my speech at the Haymarket meeting. I did not say that John Brown, Jefferson, Washington, Patrick Henry and Hopkins said to the people: ‘The law is your enemy.’ If I used the language, ‘We are rebels against it,’—and I possibly did,—I referred to the present social system. I don’t remember that I said: ‘It had no mercy; so ought you.’ There is not much sense in it, and I will not father it. The report of my speech, as given by Mr. English, has been garbled, and it does not give the connection. I don’t accept that as my speech at all. I think I used the language, but you haven’t got the sense of it at all, in quoting it in that way.

“After I left the Haymarket meeting, my first intention was to go home. I cannot tell now why I changed my mind about that. Impressions sometimes come on a person’s mind which he cannot explain why they come there. I rode on the car in passing the Arbeiter-Zeitung office, instead of walking, and I avoided the crowd on Lake Street, in which I thought there would be lots of detectives, because I certainly didn’t wish to be arrested that night. Of course, I thought I would be arrested after the trouble; it was only natural to suppose I would. I did not think there was anything inflammatory or incendiary in my speech. I did not incite anybody to do any overt act to anybody or anything. I spoke generally, from a general standpoint. I meant to say they should resist the present social system, which degraded them and turned them out of employment, and gave them no opportunity to get a living. Somebody threw a bomb. I did not know and do not know now who it was, or anything about it. Still I know, from reading of criminal proceedings, that in cases of that kind they arrest everybody in order to find out who is responsible. I supposed that I, being one of the participants of the meeting, would be arrested—for some time, at least. Knowing my innocence, I made a statement before the Coroner’s jury, expecting that when they examined into the truth of my statement I should be released.”