The conspirators left the place like young birds leave the old nest, with a flop and a flourish, never to return; but we had learned that they had in view the liberation of their friends in jail.

This information put the authorities on their guard, and it is possible that this timely discovery averted a jail delivery.

But the Anarchists did not lose hope. When they learned that the United States Supreme Court had refused to interfere with the execution they became more desperate than ever. Where before they had been revengeful, they now were frantic, and their schemes now embraced more drastic and destructive measures. They considered propositions looking to a blowing-up of the jail building with dynamite, and in the turmoil and confusion incident to the wreckage of a part of the building and the destruction of life within they contemplated a rush to the untouched portion containing their comrades, whom they would thus rescue from the hands of the law. This diabolical plot was earnestly debated, and about the time the reds became satisfied that the Governor would not step in between their convicted leaders and the gallows they even went so far as to advocate an explosion that would not only rob the gallows of its victims, but kill those whom curiosity might assemble about the jail a short time before the expected event. If their comrades must die, they should not die alone. The disgrace of an execution must be averted, and a terrible lesson imparted to the enemies of Anarchy.

But the jail officials joined me in most rigid measures to prevent the execution of each and all of the plots, and officers and detectives were stationed in goodly numbers about the building, night and day, to watch the movements of suspicious characters. When the decision of the Governor was finally announced this vigilance was redoubled, and we made sure that no secret mines had been constructed under any of the sidewalks surrounding the building or across under the alley on the west side of the jail structure.

THE CHICAGO WATER-WORKS.
From a Photograph.

It was not only the liberation of the imprisoned Anarchists that was aimed at in the numerous conspiracies which came to our knowledge about this time. One plot which was reported to me embraced a wanton scheme of incendiarism and pillage, and in order to facilitate this, it was proposed to cut off the water supply of the city by demolishing the stand-pipe in the Water-works tower. In some manner the conspirators had learned the exact spot in the tower where a charge of dynamite would accomplish the most effective execution, and the reports brought to me showed that this project was debated most minutely. For the space of two months we were required therefore to keep extra guard over the source of Chicago’s water supply, and the contemplated attack of the reds was not attempted.

While the plots on the outside of the jail were thus met with vigilance, the doomed conspirators within appeared quiet and resigned. They received the Governor’s decision with extraordinary composure, and, having felt throughout that day that they must face the inevitable on the morrow, they busied themselves in arranging their earthly affairs, writing letters to friends and relatives and giving directions as to the disposition of personal matters and the publication of their autobiographies and other manuscripts. Early in the evening they received their immediate friends and relatives to bid them farewell, and through all that trying ordeal they remained unmoved. Tears coursed down the blanched faces of wives, sisters and daughters as the last loving words were spoken, but no emotion of despair or grief seemed to agitate the men. They were solemn and stoical in their demeanor, and their efforts were mainly directed to administering words of cheer and consolation. When the final parting had taken place, they returned to their cells, and their last night on earth was varied with letter-writing and chats with the death-watch. None of them retired early. Parsons did not seek his couch till after midnight, and then it was some time before the rapid thoughts coursing through his brain would permit him to sleep. Before morning he broke the stillness of his surroundings by singing a favorite song of his earlier days—“Annie Laurie.” The clear tones echoing down the corridor startled all then awake, and prisoners and death-watch eagerly inclined their heads to catch every word and note. When Parsons drew near the closing stanza, his voice tripped and hesitated, unmistakably showing that his feelings were giving way to the recollections of former times.

Spies lay down to rest at a late hour, but his thoughts, as he chatted with his death-watch, seemed busy with the events that had brought him to a murderer’s doom. He denounced the verdict as iniquitous, and declared that the people would shortly see the error of hanging men for seeking the welfare of the laboring classes.

Fischer was the quietest and most self-composed of all, and he had very little to say even to his death-watch. He soon apparently fell into a slumber and seemed to rest easily.