THE VERDICT.
The jury retired at 2:50 o’clock Thursday, August 19. The first intimation that an agreement had been reached was when word was sent to the Revere house to prepare supper for the jury, it having been understood that unless a decision as to the fate of the prisoners was reached before 10 o’clock, supper would not be served at that time. Friday morning the excitement of the crowd in front of the Criminal Court building was something intense while the verdict was being awaited. There was none of the joking and laughing that is heard on the only other occasion that brings a mob to stand without those dreary walls—the execution of a convicted criminal. Such conversations as were held were in a low tone, and related solely to the one topic—the probable conviction of the eight prisoners who were waiting for the hour which was to mean life or death to them. Both sides of the street were lined with people who awaited anxiously for some tidings from the court within. An army of bailiffs and policemen guarded the big doors, and the surging masses were only kept back by sheer force. The limited number who obtained admission to courtroom were the reporters and the immediate friends and relatives of the defendants. The gaily-dressed women who had attended the trial since the start were not there. The court officials decided that the relatives of the prisoners should be allowed in the courtroom, and at 9:15 o’clock the sister of Spies, with another young woman, made her appearance. Shortly afterward the mother of Spies, accompanied by a younger son, also entered the courtroom and took a seat on the back benches. At 9:20 Mrs. Parsons entered the courtroom, accompanied by a woman who attended her throughout the trial. She was given a seat between two policemen. The row of seats farthest removed from the judge were occupied by a force of police officers. Next below, seated in the order named, were Henry Spies; Mrs. Spies, the prisoner’s mother; Miss Spies; Chris Spies, and a young lady friend. Next below was Mrs. Martin. The ladies looked anxious. Mrs. and Miss Spies and Mrs. Parsons looked worn out, though the latter tried to appear unconcerned, and occupied her time in reading newspapers. It was 9:50 o’clock when the Judge came in. He looked nervous and excited. He was barely seated when Captain Black entered. The Captain took a seat near his wife. He had just paid a visit to his clients.
“Are they prepared for the worst?” asked Mrs. Black, anxiously.
“Prepared!” repeated the Captain. “Yes; fully prepared to laugh at death. They talk about the matter much more coolly than I can.”
A moment or two later the prisoners were brought in. They were not given their usual seats, but placed in a row on a bench against the wall at the Judge’s left, in the narrow aisle leading to the passage way to the jail. They sat in the same old order. Spies was at the head, next to the judge. All looked haggaredhaggard and excited. Even the usually stoicialstoical face of Lingg wore an expression of anxiety. Fischer was deathly pale and trembled visibly. These pale and trembling wretches were the braggarts who a few short weeks before were boldly proclaiming the doctrines of Socialism and Anarchy on the Lake front, in Zephf’s hall and the beer saloons of the North and West sides. They were the men who were advocating force and the use of dynamite, and the total annihilation of law and order, the theft of property, and murder of citizens. Their vapid mouthings were thrust upon assemblages of decent working men, their policy was Communism, their banner was the banner of blood, and their teachings were death and destruction. Bold and fearless as lions they appeared when indulging in flights of incendiary oratory. Like dumb, obedient beasts they bowed in submission before the most powerful scourge the law can wield—the death verdict.
The jurymen filed in and took their seats in the jury box. They looked determined and resolute. There was a death-like silence in the court. In a low voice the Judge asked: “Gentlemen, have you agreed?” F. E. Osborne, the foreman, rose and replied: “We have, your honor.” Taking out two sheets of foolscap from his side coat-pocket, he handed them to Clerk Doyle, who glanced at them and handed them to the Judge, who slipped them apart, trembling so that the leaves shook violently. A whispered consultation between the Judge and the Clerk followed, and the document was returned to Mr. Doyle, who read:
“We, the jury, find the defendants, August Spies, Michael Schwab, Samuel Fielden, Albert R. Parsons, Adolph Fischer, George Engel and Louis Lingg, guilty of murder, as charged in the indictment, and fix the penalty at death.
“We find the defendant, Oscar Neebe, guilty of murder in manner and form as charged in the indictment, and fix the penalty at imprisonment in the penitentiary for a term of fifteen years.”
Not a sound came from the spectators. For a moment the courtroom was silent as the tomb. The prisoners were struck with horror. Spies’ face blanched white as the paper on which his death sentence was written. His lips quivered, and he mechanically tapped the floor with his foot and nervously stroked his moustache. Neebe was completely stunned. The blood rushed to his face, and the perspiration stood out on his forehead in great drops. Schwab’s yellow face seemed to look into vacancy, and he had a wandering, stupid stare. Parsons was visibly affected, but he kept himself up better than the rest, and maintained a certain air of nonchalance. He made an effort to flaunt a red handkerchief out of the window at the crowd on the outside, but was promptly checked by a bailiff. Fielden fairly quaked. He shook like an aspen leaf, and in every way showed his great fear. Fischer was ghastly. When the verdict was first being read he held a half-consumed cigar in his mouth, but when the death penalty was reached the weed fell from his lips to the floor. Lingg appeared sullen and stoical, but when the sentence was read his face flushed, and he was seen to tremble. Engel betrayed no emotion. When the verdict became known to the thousands assembled outside a great cheer rent the air.
Captain Black asked that the jury be polled. The jurymen answered with firm voices. Captain Black said he would desire to make a motion for a new trial. State’s Attorney Grinnell said it would be impossible to dispose of the motion during the present term, but by agreement, the motion could be argued at the September term. This was agreed to by the defense.
The Court.—“Let the motion be entered and continued until the next term, and let the defendants be taken back to jail.” Judge Gary then arose and addressed the jury as follows:
“GENTLEMEN OF THE JURY:—You have finished this long and very arduous trial, which has required a very considerable sacrifice of time, and some hardship. I hope that everything has been done that could possibly be done to make those sacrifices and hardships as mild as might be permitted. It does not become me to say anything in regard to the case that you have tried, or the verdict you have rendered; but men compulsorily serving as jurors, as you have done, deserve some recognition of the service you have performed besides the meager compensation you have received.”
The Foreman of the jury said: “The jury have deputed to me the only agreeable duty, that it is in our province to perform, and that is to thank the Court and the counsel for the defense and for the prosecution, for your kindly care to make us as comfortable as possible during our confinement. We thank you.”
The jury then filed out, and scarcely had they left the room when a shrill voice was heard, and Mrs. Schwab fell heavily to the floor. She was taken out into the fresh air by policemen, and soon revived. Mrs. Spies followed up this scene by going into hysterics, and also had to be assisted from the room. The other women kept their nerves, and after the first shock maintained composure. In the meantime the crowd had closed in on the prisoners, and were examining them from head to foot. The bailiffs, however, promptly put a stop to this, and led the condemned men away to their cells.