He was the principal leader of all the Anarchists in Germany. The people looked upon him as the savior of their great cause. He was admired not only by men, but also by women. Wherever he went he was given great receptions, and he had many pupils.
Reinsdorf was born in Prussia. When he became of age, he joined the party, and, by his good and rapid work, became in a short time the father of the Anarchistic agitation. But the law pursued him, and he wandered from state to state. In the year 1876 we find him in Switzerland, where he had many followers. One of his pupils and admirers was Max Hoedel, who with Reinsdorf conceived a plot to murder King William of Prussia. The attack upon his life was made by Hoedel on the 11th day of May, 1878. He fired several shots at the aged warrior, but failed, as none of them took effect. They missed their mark. Not satisfied with this, another man, Dr. Nobiling, also a pupil of Reinsdorf, made another attempt three weeks later, by firing a shot-gun filled with buck-shot at the old King; but again without effect. Nobiling’s deed was the consequence of Hoedel’s attempt, and Reinsdorf was the agitator. Failing in this, they concluded to wait some time until their party should get stronger and could secure better material. Among others Louis Lingg joined the Anarchists in Zurich. Louis was then very young, but he became as radical as their chief leader. The Socialists were to have held a Congress there in May, 1880, but the gathering did not take place, as the police had notice, and Reinsdorf and his followers were compelled to leave Zurich and go to Freiburg (Baden), where they held secret meetings and where Reinsdorf declared that he himself would go to Berlin and kill the miserable mahdi by stabbing him to the heart. He went to Berlin to carry out this plan, but was arrested by the police. They could not make out a case of conspiracy against him, but he was sent to prison for several months on the charge of carrying a dagger. After his discharge Reinsdorf traveled to and from Switzerland to Germany, France and Belgium, speaking in all places where he stopped, and gaining many followers. His only desire was to put old Emperor William (commonly called “old Lehmann”) out of the way—to do something great so that all the people would look up to him. His only targets were royal palaces and the palaces of diplomates. He and others then formed a plan to murder the King, and Bismarck, and all the princes and others who were to participate in the dedication of the Germania monument at Ruedesheim on the 28th day of September, 1883. But Reinsdorf met with an accident while crossing a railroad track, and was severely injured. This was a very painful situation for Reinsdorf. The day for action drew near, but he was confined to his bed. Should this beautiful plan be given up on that account? Never! Could not other people accomplish what he had thought out? Certainly. But was it sure that they would have the necessary courage at the critical moment? Could he trust them? Tormented by such thoughts, Reinsdorf finally submitted to the inevitable and confided his mission to two of his comrades. He called these people to his bedside and told them what he wanted done. He presented his plan in detail. Rupsch and Kuechler—these are their names—pledged themselves to do what he desired. They started on the journey with the necessary material, reached Ruedesheim safely, and on the night of the 27th they proceeded to a spot not far from the monument, where the railroad runs near the edge of the forest. They filled a culvert with a large quantity of dynamite, put a fulminating cap into it and drew the fuse into the forest. It was raining at the time, and they covered the fuse with moist ground and tied the end of it to a tree, which they marked by cutting into it. They then returned to Ruedesheim. The next morning they returned to the place. The royal train came. Kuechler gave the signal; Rupsch held his burning cigar to the fuse. One moment of breathless expectation! The train passed, and the explosion—failed. Kuechler asked Rupsch about the failure. The latter showed that the end of the fuse had been lighted, but did not burn because it was damp. They did not give up hope, as the train had to return the same way after the ceremonies were over. A new fuse was attached. Again the royal party passed over the critical ground, where death had been prepared for them. Rupsch lit the fuse again, but it did not burn. An investigation afterwards showed that the fuse only burned a short length and then went out. They had followed all Reinsdorf’s instructions but one—instead of water-proof fuse they had supplied themselves with the common kind. With mutual recriminations, Kuechler and Rupsch took the dynamite from under the culvert and went back to Ruedesheim, where they got gloriously drunk. After they had sobered up, they returned to Elberfeld and reported to Reinsdorf, who already knew that his beautiful plan had miscarried. With great wrath he listened to them and said: “No such thing could have happened to me.” He thought there would be another chance. Then he would not be in the hospital, but could carry it out himself. His hopes were in vain. After his discharge from the hospital in Elberfeld, he proceeded to Frankfort-on-the-Main, where he was arrested. The police found out that he was an accomplice in the conspiracy, but, putting him through the sieve, they failed to get anything out of him, as he would not answer a single question. He said: “You may ask me as much as you wish, I shall not answer.” Bachman, one of his companions and an accomplice, escaped to Luxemburg, where he thought he would be safe from the law, but he also was arrested and extradited and sent to Elberfeld to keep Reinsdorf company, together with Rupsch and Kuechler.
Reinsdorf and his accomplices were tried before the courts of Leipsic, and the trial lasted seven days. Bachman and two others were sentenced to ten years in the penitentiary. Rupsch got a life sentence, while Reinsdorf was sentenced to be beheaded. At his trial Reinsdorf was as stubborn as ever. He denied everything. When he was asked who he was he answered:
“I am an Anarchist.”
“What is Anarchy?” he was asked.
“A company in which every sensible man can develop his ability. To permit this no one should be burdened with excessive labor; want and misery should be banished; every force should cease; every stupidity, every superstition should be banished from the world.”
The presiding judge asked him if he was guilty or not, and to answer with “yes” or “no.”
Reinsdorf answered with a steady voice: “I look upon this whole thing as a question of power. If we German Anarchists had a couple of army corps at our disposition, then I would not have to talk to this court. I for my part have nothing to say. Do with me as you please.”
After the court had finished, Reinsdorf resumed his remarks and said: “The attempt at Niederwald failed because ‘the hand of Providence appeared,’ as the prosecution terms it. I tell you the awkward hand of Rupsch did it. I am sorry to say I had no one else at my disposal. I have nothing to repent, only that the attempt failed. At the factories the people are going to ruin merely for the benefit of the stockholders. These honest Christians swindle the working people of half of their living. My lawyer wanted to save my head, but for such a hounded proletarian as I am the quickest death is the best. If I had ten heads I would offer them with joy and lay them on the block for the good cause.”