From Frank Donner, Protectors
of Privilege: Red Squads and Police Repression in Urban America (Berkeley, CA: University of California
Press, 1990), pp.12-22.
Haymarket and Its Legacy
Our purpose here is not to recount the oft-told tale of
Haymarket, but to focus on the conduct of the police principals. During the two
decades after the 1871 fire, the Chicago police were, according to Herbert
Asbury, "probably the most inefficient organization of its kind in the
United States . . . poorly paid and riddled with graft . . . and unable to
handle with any degree of intelligence the railroad and streetcar strikes of
1877 and 1885 . . . and the other labor troubles and radical outbreaks that
kept Chicago in almost constant turmoil." It was not that the force
loafed: in one year alone (1879) the police made 28,480 arrests on charges of
disorderly conduct, primarily in connection with labor disturbances and riots.
The reliance by the Chicago business
community on repressive police tactics to deal with labor unrest was
unconcealed. Indeed, the Chicago police were as much the minions of the
business community as hired Pinkertons. The leadership role of Captain (then
Inspector) Bonfield in both the May 3 and May 4 episodes was no accident. He
had impressed the business community with his "shoot to kill" orders
in an 1885 streetcar strike, and his readiness to order clubbings had led his
victims to dub him "Black Jack." As a result of the indiscriminate
clubbings he instigated on the morning of July 2, 1885, during the course of
the sreetcar
strike, one man was beaten senseless, another died, and others never fully
recovered from the injuries inflicted by the police."
In
February 1886 Bonfield posted a security guard of three hundred policemen
around the McCormick Works to implement a lockout of some 1,482 workers, and on
March 1 the police began escorting strike- breakers into the plant. On March 2,
without warning, Bonfield's men clubbed a number of locked-out workers
peacefully gathered outside the plant. In the ensuing confrontation, the police
shot at the workers, killing at least four of them while they were in flight.
Bonfield's role in the Haymarket affair is illuminated by the fact that when he was informed at the station house by Mayor Carter Harrison at about 10:00 o'clock that the meeting was about over and that it had been peaceful,* he nevertheless stayed on until the mayor left, and then led his men to the tragic encounter in the square.
*He hardly
needed to be told the news: all during the evening he had plain-clothesmen or
informers ( it is not clear which) shuttling between his post and the meeting
to alert him to developments. ]
In February 1886 Bonfield posted a security guard of
three hundred policemen around the McCormick Works to implement a lockout of
some 1,482 workers, and on March I the police began escorting strike- breakers
into the plant. On March 2, without warning, Bonfield's men clubbed a number of
locked-out workers peacefully gathered outside the plant. In the ensuing
confrontation, the police shot at the workers, kill- ing at least four of them
while they were in flight.
Bonfield's role in the Haymarket affair is illuminated by
the fact that when he was informed at the station house by Mayor Carter
Harrison at about 10:00 o'clock that the meeting was about over and that it had
been peaceful,* he nevertheless stayed on until the mayor left, and then led
his men to the tragic encounter in the square.
We
must now turn to Captain Michael J. Schaack, who dominated the stage after the
bombing. In the wake of the bombing, he was assigned to assist the state prosecutor,
develop his case, and bring to justice others who were implicated. Schaack may
well be called the founding father of modern police antiradical theory and
practice: his operational methods, ideological assumptions, exploitation of
mass fear, and use of publicity together form a legacy that became the
foundation of a police specialty in subsequent years.
Subsequent to the bombing, Schaack's men (they were frequently referred
to as his "boys" commenced a terror campaign during which well over two
hundred sixty individuals were rounded up. They raided and ransacked homes,
made illegal arrests, dragged people out of their beds, subjected dragnet
victims to intimidation and torture, and bribed several into becoming
prosecution witnesses. The justification offered for these tactics was a
claimed vast revolutionary conspiracy targeting the city and, ultimately, the
nation.
The
Chicago Citizens' Association and its allies raised funds used by Schaack to
bribe witnesses and pay off informers. In addition, it appar- ently hired
Pinkerton agents to assist the police, raised over $30,000 to succor the families of the
dead and wounded policemen, donated land to - to be used "for military
purposes," that is, as a redoubt for rapid troop deployment without
delay when needed to curb disturbances in the city, and subsequently, in 1899,
collected funds to build an armory for the same purpose.
As the city writhed in fear, kept at a
high pitch by a frenzied press, Schaack took center stage as a detective-hero,
casting himself in the role of master detective, a figure that in the
nineteenth century gripped the popular imagination, whose daring and skill
would unlock mysteries and bring him acclaim as the man who had not only solved
"the crime of the century" but rescued the city and nation from
destruction. How could his vision be marred by such piddling details as
apprehending the actual bomber? Instead, he bragged unceasingly of his
cleverness and courage in rooting out secret conspiracies, confident that no
one in the fear- ridden city would dare challenge his boastful disclosures,
however absurd or incredible.
This self-styled master detective left no stone unturned to
keep himself in the public eye. Not only did he falsely announce the discovery
of bombs, but he actually sought to set u $ anarchist cells on his own. Three
years after the bombing, on May 10, 1889, Police Chief Frederick Ebersold told
the Chicago Times in an interview:
Captain
Schaack wanted to keep things stirring. He wanted bombs to be found here,
there, all around, everywhere. I thought people would lie down to sleep bet-
ter if they were not afraid their homes would be blown to pieces any minute.
But this man, Schaack ... wanted none of that policy... After we got the
anarchist societies broken up, Schaack wanted to send out people to organize
new societies right away... He wanted to keep the thing boiling, keep himself
prominent before the public.
Ebersold's charges were probably prompted by Schaack's
attack on him in his book Anarchy and Anarchists, published in February
1889, sixteen months after the Haymarket executions. 19 This volume was pre-
pared to advance Schaack's career as a master anarchist hunter and to exploit
his national reputation as the hero of Haymarket, and it was circulated by the
Pinkerton Agency to induce employers to engage its ser- vices. The
exaggerations and inventions in the book-admitted by Schaack himself later to
be (at least) one-third lies"-also reflect the narrative strategies of
nineteenth-century police thrillers, and they are clearly intended both to sow
and to exploit mass fear. The book is a handsome volume of 697 quarto pages,
with 191 illustrations (a great many bomb-related), and its title page blazes
with three subtitles: A History of the Red Terror and the Social Revolution
in America and Europe; Communism, Socialism and Nihilism, in Doctrine and in
Deed; and The Chicago Haymarket Conspiracy, The Detection and Trial of
the Conspirators.
Anarchy and Anarchists is embroidered with tales of creepy encounters with
strangers, meetings with mysterious women veiled in black, heroic penetrations
of clandestine meeting places, anonymous missives, and so on. At the outset,
the author startles us with the assurance (p. 74) that "Socialism in the
United States may be regarded as synonymous with Anarchy." Well-meaning,
naive strikers were duped by the "Socialists-Anarchists" in 1886
"to strike a blow which would terrorize the community and inaugurate the
rule of the Commune." Moreover, the bloody streetcar confrontations in the
summer of 1885 had not been due to inspector Bonfield's detail at all, but
resulted from "prearranged plans" of "the Anarchists and
Socialists of Chicago [who] did everything to create a bloody conflict between
the police and the strikers."
Dipping into Social Darwinist wisdom, Schaack treats his
readers to an extended paean to the glories of free enterprise and the perils
of a socialist, equalitarian society, which not only offers no incentive to
great achievements in art, literature, or invention, but places everyone on an
equal footing, "the profligate with the provident and the drunken wretch
with the industrious" (p. 84).
Arrayed against kindly and generous
employers are the "Huns and Vandals of modern civilization," the
socialists and anarchists who demand ten hours' pay for eight hours' work in
the hope that employer resistance will lead workers who secretly profess
socialism "to the point of violence" (p. 103). All of the conflicts
preceding Haymarket were planned preliminary stages in a vast takeover conspiracy,
culminating in what Schaack repeatedly refers to as the "Monday Night
Conspiracy," to be ignited by the Haymarket demonstration on the following
day. This plot, a product of Schaack's febrile imagination, was assertedly
proposed by Engel and endorsed by Fisher and contemplated that bombs be thrown
into police stations; riflemen of the Lehr und Wehr would post
themselves outside, and whoever came out of the station would be shot down.
They then would come into the heart of the city, where the fight would commence
in earnest. When all the conspirators finally reached the center of the city,
they would set fire to the most prominent build- ings, attack the jail, open
the doors, and free the inmates to join them. And why did it not take place?
The reason "is not explicable upon any other hypothesis than that the
courage of the trusted leaders failed them at the critical moment."
Schaack had control of a slush fund
provided by the Chicago Citizens' Association for such purposes as bribing
witnesses and purchasing the services of informers-called "privates"
or "secret service men." In an illuminating passage, Schaack
describes how his network operated:
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.... At each
Anarchist meet- ing I had at least one man present to note the proceed- ings
and to learn what plots they were maturing. (pp. 49-50)
Like so many authoritarian
radical-hunters, Schaack was revolted by activist women:
In many of the smaller meetings ... a lot of
crazy women were usually present, and whenever a crazy proposition to kill
someone or blow up the city with dynamite [was made], these "squaws"
proved the most bloodthirsty ... 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" . . .
and they fairly went wild whenever blood- thirsty sentiments were uttered....
At one meeting on North Halsted Street [were] the most hideous-looking females
that could be found.... Some of them were pock marked, others freckled faced
and red haired and others again held their snuff boxes in their hand while the
congress was in session. One female appeared at one of these meetings with her
husband's boots on and there was another about six feet tall. She was a beauty!
She was raw boned, had a turned up nose and looked as though she might have
carried a red flag in Paris during the reign of the Commune. (pp. 207-8)
The
"slut" image of radical women was augmented by stereotypical
denunciations of their slovenly housekeeping and callousness to the needs of
their children. On the other hand there were some-but only a few-decent women,
good housekeepers and good mothers, who de- plored the political involvement of
their spouses.
Schaack
then regales the reader with a stream of pulp-style spy stories:
One of his "privates" is accused of
being a spy; the plant then charges his accuser, a bona fide anarchist, with
be- ing a Pinkerton agent and asks the assemblage whether he should kill his
accuser; he is told to take him out somewhere and kill him. The accuser,
overcome by the countercharge, "ran for his life." But the plant,
fearing exposure, successfully urges adjournment explaining that his accuser,
being a police spy, would return with police reinforcements. (pp. 208-9)
Between
May 7, 1886, and November 1877, Schaack was a very busy man-supervising
surveillance programs, coaching witnesses, planting informers, having holes
bored in walls and floors at which eavesdroppers were positioned, and fending
off attempts to do him in or spy on him (p. 215).
Schaack's prime post-Haymarket objective was to stoke the fires of fear
and panic, which the trial and executions might quench. Vigilance cannot be
relaxed; the danger is greater than ever. In addition to the 75,000 men, women,
and children who are socialists, we must remember the 7,300 dangerous
anarchists! (Wholly invented figures, as his book's appendices show.) He cannot
warn us often enough that we must be prepared for a fight to the death:
All over the world the apostles of disorder,
rapine and Anarchy are today pressing forward their work of ruin, and preaching
their gospel of disasters to all the nations with more fiery energy and a
better organized propaganda than was ever known before. People who imagine that
the energy of the revolutionists has slackened, or that the determination to
wreck all the existing systems has grown less bitter, are deceiving themselves.
The conspiracy against society is as determined as it ever was, and among every
nation the spirit of revolt is being galvanized into a newer and more dangerous
life. (p. 687)
Schaack comes through as the
quintessential political sleuth, the fore- runner of a long line of zealots
who, with the support of the business community, used their countersubversive
specialty to achieve self- promotion, power, fame, and profit. Like the police
red-hunters who walked in his tracks, he thirsted, in Shakespeare's words, for
"the big wars / That make ambition virtue" (Othello 3.3.349-50).
Schaack and his detail blazed a trail in another
area-corruption and greed. While such failings were endemic in the
nineteenth-century Police world, they were particularly notable in areas where
the urban elites of the Gilded Age felt threatened by the unrest of the lower
classes and were hence ready to pay whatever was needed-tolerating graft or
direct payoffs-to ensure police aggression in restraining troublemakers.*
'
Schaack made much of the fact that the anarchists' victims were not a lot of
nobodies, but valiant guardians of the public order. Indeed, the fact that the
victims were such noble fellows in itself proved that the defendants were
fiends. An ironic commentary on this attempt to glorify the murdered policemen
emerges from the fate of Thomas F. Birmingham, the policeman who served as a
model for the statue memorializing the victims of the Haymarket bomb. in 1890
and 1899 he was charged with collaborating with criminals and selling stolen
merchandise for his own gain. Subsequently, according to Emma Goldman's ac-
count, he became a petty thief and a skid-row drunk, and died in the county
hospital. See William J. Adelman, Haymarket Revisited: A Tour Guide of Labor
History Sites and Ethnic Neighborhoods Connected with the Haymarket Affair (Chicago:
Illinois Labor History Society, 1976), p. 39. The Birmingham statue became a
repeated target of assaults in the sixties by young radicals, who forced its
removal.
All three of the police officials
identified with Haymarket would have strongly endorsed lago's advice to
Roderigo: "Put money in thy purse" (Othello 1.3.345). In
September 1885 the Daily News uncovered a series of scandals revealing
that Bonfield, jointly with another official (Captain Ward), was running an
extortion and bribery ring involving payoffs from gambling houses and prostitutes.
According to a Chicago Times expose on January 5, 1889, both Bonfield
and Schaack were receiving immunity bribes from local taverns and prostitutes.
The story also revealed that a great deal of stolen merchandise had been traced
to policemen under Schaack's command, including the gold cuff links of Haymarket defendant Louis
Lingg. In reprisal, Schaack, repeating a tactic used against the radical press
in 1886, promptly ordered the shut- down of the Times, then owned by
Carter Harrison, a liberal former mayor of Chicago. But even more startling was
the discovery that Schaack was the bagman of a $475,000 fund collected by
Chicago businessmen for a continuing war on subversion. In the course of a
prosecution of the wife of one of Schaack's boys, Jacob Lowenstein, she
released documents establishing that her husband and Schaack had stolen and
fenced a considerable amount of property, including possessions of the
Haymarket defendants as well as property seized in the course of the subsequent
terror campaign. Later, in 1889, after an investigation, the recurring scandals
led to dismissal of a group of officers. Schaack man- aged, after an interval
under a cloud in the wake of the corruption expose, to retain leadership of the
East Chicago Avenue station because of his supportive German ethnic
constituency. In 1898 he died in peace.
Haymarket was exploited in a crusade
to broadly tar peaceful labor activities with the brush of violence. As in the
aftermath of the Great Upheaval, conspiracy concepts were extended by statute
to peaceful labor activities and enlarged police forces in industrial cities
were encouraged to apply vaguely worded common law restraints
("trespass," "disorderly conduct") and newly enacted
ordinances to justify disruption of peaceful labor aCtiVitieS.21 Thus,
Haymarket created a climate in which Schaack- style abuses, both in targeting
and operations, were not only overlooked, but encouraged in major industrial
centers. The stereotypes applied to immigrant laborers and radicals were spiced with new epithets branding them
violence-prone fiends armed with bombs and dynamite. The Haymarket tragedy also
marked the emergence of a new form of policing: anarchists were
indiscriminately surveilled not only as a means of crime suppression, but for
ideological reasons alone. This targeting concentration embraced identifiable
individuals (leaders, activists) as well as the organizations with which they
were identified. The emergence of professional "anarchist chasers"
led to the organization in large American cities of "bomb" and
"anarchist" squads and resort to infiltration by informers as a
surveillance technique. This style of ideological warfare against anarchism
broke ground for subsequent similar police initiatives against socialism and
communism and marked the beginning, in Richard Drinnon's phrase, "of the
rationalization of conformity.
Thomas Byrnes: Protector of
Plutocrats. In New York the post- Haymarket syndrome of increased police
surveillance was typified by the emergence of Inspector Thomas Byrnes, who
paralleled Schaack's role both as an outstanding anarchist chaser and as a
manipulator who used the fears of the
business community and the general corruption of the time to line his purse.
Finley Peter Dunne later recalled-.
The celebrated Inspector Byrnes whose fortune
was made by scaring millionaires into the belief that there was about to be an
uprising of anarchists and assembling an army of cops to surround a few hundred
garment workers in Union Square who had gathered to hear a squeaky little
tailor rant in Yiddish against the tyranny of Capital. "
Dunne did not overstate
Byrnes's success in milking his wealthy patrons by his alertness in protecting
their interests. After apprehending a blackmailer of Jay Could, he became
Gould's intimate and explained his fortune of $350,000-an enormous sum in those
days, especially for one on a salary of $2,000 a year-as the reward of sound
investment advice.
As in Chicago, a sense of beleaguerment
after Haymarket intensified the felt dependency of the business community on
Byrnes's protective resources and loosened its purse strings. Byrnes was quick
to cash in on such fears: during his years as chief of detectives and
inspector, he dispatched details to block anarchist meetings and assigned
plain- clothes note-takers to monitor them.
In August 1893 an anarchist scare was triggered by hysterical
press accounts and police reports of an occurrence, promptly labeled a
riot," involving a wrecked East Side hall. Anarchists were held
responsible for the disturbance--although there was no proof of their
involvement- because Emma Goldman had delivered a passionate speech in an
adjacent hall to an audience of the unemployed. Word spread that a true riot inspired by anarchists was about to
erupt as meetings were held to pro- test police misconduct. All police leaves
were canceled, meetings were infiltrated, and the city prepared for the worst.
Police hustled known anarchists out of their meeting rooms and headquarters and
broke up peaceful meetings, which then moved to new sites, only to be broken up
again.
Emma Goldman fell afoul of Byrnes's anarchist hunt when
she was arrested in Philadelphia on August 31 on a violence-incitement charge
arising from a speech she had made on August 21, 1893, in New York's Union
Square to develop support for a public works program to alleviate the needs of
the victims of the economic depression. Byrnes's vigorously repressive response
to the August scare, culminating in the Goldman arrest, won him acclaim as a
fearless anarchist chaser, a "man of the hour.". . .
Although the Knights of Labor quickly
distanced themselves from the anarchists on trial in Chicago, the
reverberations from the 1886 Haymarket bombing severely damaged the fortunes of
the Knights and the rest of the union movement. The anti-labor reaction that
followed in the wake of the bombing helped precipitate a rapid decline in
membership in the Knights. In Detroit, for example, membership dropped by 1888
to one-third of what it had been in 1886. Oscar Ameringer - then a young
immigrant furniture worker not yet blacklisted for his politics - may have
later exaggerated the speed with which the Eight Hour strikes in Cincinnati
collapsed in the aftermath of Haymarket. But this humorous recollection of the
"bad news from Chicago" does capture the devastating impact that
Haymarket had on workers around the country.