Part 4

The winter of 1913–1914 was one of industrial depression. Many of the radical labor element rallied to the I. W. W. and the unemployed readily joined them. The methods of the anarchists and I. W. W.’s were similar, and the advocates of unrest were enlisted under both standards. In the late winter demonstrations began and multiplied until in March a youth named Frank Tannenbaum, to whom Emma Goldman later took a fancy, led a mob of I. W. W.’s into St. Alphonsus’ Church demanding food. The police waited until they had passed inside, then locked the doors, and arrested the whole lot. This was but one instance of a number which promised more trouble. Whatever nice distinctions of creed separated the Industrial Workers from the anarchists were paper distinctions; the performances of both bodies made it fairly plain that if you scratched an anarchist you found an I. W. W. underneath.

There may have been some intimation from abroad of the impending war, among the anarchists, for in July certain of them began to grow demonstrative. On Independence Day Mandese was arrested in Tarrytown, in uncomfortable proximity to the estate and person of John D. Rockefeller. Carron, Berg and Hansen, three members of the Brescia Circle, were engaged on that same day in perfecting a bomb in their rooms at Lexington Avenue and 104th Street, when the machine exploded prematurely and killed them. That bomb had been intended for the Rockefeller family. Naturally everyone with a shred of respect for order who read of these episodes recoiled from them, but it was necessary to judge them from the anarchist’s own standpoint to see that while one of the cases had resulted in death, and the Mandese incident in arrest, both had been successful in creating a disturbance. The anarchist likes disturbance as well as he dislikes order, for unrest is contagious, and means new recruits to the cause. It became our duty, therefore, to make a careful investigation of these disturbances at their source, and we insinuated a detective into the Brescia Circle itself.

He spoke only English--a good language for social intercourse, but not the key to the affairs of the group in the 106th Street basement. Whenever the more prominent agitators had a really important matter to discuss they used the Italian tongue, and it was impossible for our man to eavesdrop. Perhaps he was over-eager, for twice he was brought to trial by the Circle charged with spying. Twice he was acquitted. But when his enemies had him formally charged a third time with treachery, the anarchists decided that although they had no evidence against him beyond a powerful suspicion, he would be better outside. Outside he went.

On October 3, the anarchists gave a grand ball at the Harlem Casino in honor of Emma Goldman, and at that affair announcement was made that October 13 would be observed by those of the cause with a celebration at Forward Hall, in East Broadway, fitting to the anniversary of the “assassination” of Francisco Ferrer. The orator, Leonard Abbott, also reminded the gathering that “the Catholic Church had been responsible for Ferrer’s death.” At five o’clock in the afternoon of October 12 a vicious explosion occurred in the north aisle of St. Patrick’s Cathedral. It was an anarchist’s bomb. The nave of the church held numerous worshippers, who were panic-stricken, but who fortunately escaped injury with the exception of a young man struck in the face by a flying splinter from one of the altars. Shortly after midnight of the next day a bomb placed in the front area of the priests’ house of St. Alphonsus’ exploded with violence enough to break every window in the house and every window in the house across the street. Ferrer’s “assassination” had evidently been appropriately observed.

The situation was disturbing. We had to put a stop to bombing before the anarchists grew bolder and began to kill someone beside themselves. Of course we wanted all the evidence we could lay hands on, and yet the evidence we had been able to obtain had not prevented two outrages. We felt that undoubtedly the best place to look for it was still the Brescia Circle, as it constituted the chief organization and headquarters for the element which we believed guilty. And we now return to the question of the stool-pigeon.

It would have been possible to employ one of the Circle, perhaps. It is certain that I should have been uneasy with only his evidence to depend upon, for a bomb does not wait to be investigated. Planting a man in the Brescia Circle had not been successful, but I felt that it could be made successful. So out of five or six candidates from the department I chose Amedeo Polignani for the work.

He was a young Italian detective who kept his own counsel, short, strong, mild-mannered and unobtrusive. And he knew Italian. “Your name from now on is Frank Baldo,” I said. “Forget you’re a detective. You can get a job over in Long Island City, so as to carry out the bluff. You are an anarchist. Join the Brescia Circle and any other affiliated group, and report to me every day. The older members may be suspicious of you, and they’ll probably follow you, so we had better arrange when you are to telephone and I’ll let you know whenever and wherever I want to see you.” We discussed every possible angle of the work in order to anticipate and forestall whatever accident either of omission or commission might occur to make Polignani’s position suspicious. He was instructed to call me by telephone at certain hours, using a private number, telephoning from a public pay-station in a store in which there was not more than one booth, so that no one might follow him and hear his conversation through the flimsy walls of a booth adjoining. He was to deport himself in a retiring manner, and to throw himself earnestly into the part he was to act. I felt sure that his quiet, agreeable nature would disarm any suspicion of him as a newcomer, and that complete concentration upon the spirit of the masquerade would gradually draw out important information. First and foremost, he was to be on the watch for evidence of the man who had committed the two bomb outrages in October; secondly, he was to cover the activities and intentions of the anarchists in general; thirdly, he was to keep his eyes and ears open and his mouth shut, and to deal with any emergency which might arise.

It often happens in fiction that a man journeys to a far country and somewhere on the voyage sheds his identity like an old suit of clothes to proceed through years of adventure as another individual; in the movies it is no feat at all for a girl to disguise herself as a man and hoodwink the rest of the actors through several hundred feet of film; but it remained for a New York detective to discard his name and his associations for six months, and without once stirring outside his jurisdiction, without any disguise, and without miraculous power, to add to the records--and consequently to the efficiency--of his department a store of information of one of the most troublesome groups of anarchists in the United States.

He bade his little family in the Bronx good-by, got employment at manual labor in a Long Island City factory, and hired a cheap room at 1907 Third Avenue. Throughout November he attended meetings of the Brescia Circle, listening to bitter speeches full of wild plans to overthrow the government, and the organized church, and getting the lay of the land. To such members as chose to speak to him he was courteous and friendly, but they were not many. The more important members had a way of gathering in corners and whispering to each other, and the new member was not invited to join the charmed inner circle. So he held his peace, and memorized names and faces, and presently his opportunity came.

Polignani had noticed on November 30 a young Italian cobbler, named Carbone, who seemed to have influence in the Circle, and he confirmed this judgment on the next two Sunday evenings as he saw Carbone in whispered conversation with Frank Mandese and one Campanielli. The next Sunday night the same trio was in star-chamber session when a good-natured wrestling match started in another part of the room, and Carbone turned to watch it. Polignani was tossing various members to the floor, and as he was smoothing his ruffled hair after a short bout, Carbone tapped him on the shoulder and said, “You’re a strong fellow--I’m glad to see you a member of the Brescia Circle!” The detective smiled, and the two fell into conversation, which continued as they left the society’s rooms and strolled up Third Avenue.

“The trouble with those fellows,” said Carbone, “is that they talk too much and don’t act enough. They don’t accomplish anything.”

“That’s right,” Polignani agreed.

“What they ought to do is throw a few bombs and show the police something,” Carbone continued. “Wake them up! Look--” he held up the stumps of five fingers of his right hand--“I got that making a bomb. Some day I’ll show you how to make ’em.”

That arrangement suited Polignani perfectly. He had a lead, after tedious “watchful waiting,” which had been punctuated by the explosion of a mysterious bomb at the door of the Bronx County Court House on November 11. He had listened to reams of oratory against the ruling classes, law, order and the churches, had heard his fellow members chided because the bombs at St. Patrick’s and St. Alphonsus’ had been too weak, and had heard speakers advise any members who contemplated the use of dynamite not to take too many people into their confidences. Carbone was deliberately confiding in “Baldo,” and the detective made up his mind to cultivate him.

This extract from his notebook will illustrate how the acquaintance ripened:

“I did not see Carbone again until Sunday the 27th. On this day he spoke to me of a friend named Frank and said that if all anarchists were like his friend they would be all right. He thinks nothing of making and throwing a bomb. On January 1st about 1.45 P. M. Carbone met me as per appointment. We went to where the meeting of the unemployed was being held and both of us shook hands with Louise Berg, Mandese, and Bianco.... He introduced me to his friend Frank....”

Enter the third conspirator, Frank Abarno, 25 years old, and a native of San Velle, Italy. Almost on the heels of his introduction to the promising new member, the new member began to take a new interest in life, for on January 3 Carbone drew Polignani out of the meeting after the speeches and said quietly, “Come on up to the 125th Street Station. It’s warm up there, and we won’t be bothered. I’ll tell you something about making bombs.” And on the way up Lexington Avenue Carbone explained that he needed some caps about two inches long. All the dynamite he wanted he could get from his uncle, a contractor “out in the country.” “We’ll get some dynamite, and then you and Frank and me will blow up some churches, see?”

“Sure,” the detective answered. “What church?”

“St. Patrick’s is the best. This time it’ll be a good one too--not like before.”

“Did you hear what Mandese was saying the other night?” Polignani asked. “He was scrapping with another fellow and the fellow says, ‘If they wouldn’t give me no work I’d throw bombs.’ And Mandese said to him, ‘The only kind of bombs you shoot are the kind you shoot with your mouth,’ and he says, ‘What kind of bombs do you shoot then?’ And Mandese says, ‘The kind that went off at Madison Square and the two churches, see!’”

Carbone apparently did not care for the results of the previous explosions, for he said:

“Well, they were no good. That bomb that killed Carron and Berg and Hansen wasn’t made right. It was wound too tight--that’s why it went off too soon. I can make a bomb from a brass ball off a bed-post that will start something.”

A fortnight passed, and Carbone turned up at the Brescia meeting-place in company with Abarno. They beckoned to Polignani and the three walked down Third Avenue, Abarno mouthing anarchy, and suddenly suggesting that he would like to go into St. Patrick’s, find Cardinal Farley alone, and choke him to death. The gentle soul then remarked: “Carbone, you make some bombs!”

“If I can get those caps I’ll make a bomb that will destroy the Cathedral clear down to the ground, but if I can’t get the caps then I’ll have to make the other kind.”

“Well, you make two bombs,” said Abarno. “We’ll set them off on the outside of the church about six o’clock some morning and then we can get away clean and get to work on time and nobody will know the difference.”

Carbone asked Abarno to get him some sulphur, and turned to Polignani a slip pencilled, “Collorate di Potase, 1 lb.” and “Andimonio.” “You get that at a drug store, Baldo,” he said.

“Baldo” complied, and a few weeks later the materials were assembled. Carbone instructed Polignani to call on Abarno for a booklet on bomb manufacture, and about six in the evening of February 4 Abarno gave the detective the pamphlet to read while he went out to get some spaghetti, as the two had an appointment with Carbone at 7.30. Polignani was hardly out of Abarno’s sight when he sprinted to a telephone and called me. I met him at once, at headquarters, and turned the booklet over to the photographer, who got to work immediately photographing the pages. Our time was short, and before we had the job done I had to restore the book to Polignani. On Lincoln’s Birthday Carbone gave the book to our man again, to study, and this gave us time to finish the photographic copying.

I realized when I saw the translation how Carbone knew so much about making bombs.

“La Salute e’ in voi!” read the cover, or “Health is in you!” Evidently a toast to the brotherhood for which it was prepared. It was a pamphlet of some sixty pages, measuring about four by eight inches, and cleanly printed in Italian. It was nothing less than a text-book on how to go about making bombs--a sort of guide to anarchist etiquette. It would be unwise to reproduce its instructions here in detail, as they were too accurate for the general peace, but the index which follows will give a conception of the thoroughness with which the anonymous writers in far-off Italy covered their subject.

“Index-- First principles 1 Instruments 7 Manipulation 8 Explosive material 11 Powder 14 Nitroglycerine 14 Dynamite 20 Fulminate of mercury 23 Gun cotton 27 Preparation of fuses 31 Capsule and petard 34 Application of explosive materials 35 Bombs 39 Incendiary materials 44”

Yes, it was accurate--and very practical. To quote from its advice to struggling anarchists:

“We recommend most earnestly that if you wish to engage in this line of work, you procure, before all else, a sufficient amount of money, otherwise you risk being put out in the middle of the street, only to find your long work and trouble all in vain. We recommend at the same time that you do not omit any precaution necessary to avoid attracting the attention of the police, and avoid mixing with the public, nor be seen with known companions. And do not work at it in the house except when necessary....

“The work should be done in a well ventilated room provided with a good chimney place and furnished in such a way that you can hide things if anyone enters, and this room ought to be on the top floor of the house on account of the odors that are always being produced....

“Above all we recommend that you never make explosives for the mere pleasure of making them. All you do beyond enough is useless and stupid--especially so when you have neither the practice nor the proper means for making them. As to the place to keep the dynamite, why make it until it is needed? Take heed that among the various kinds of explosives, bombs, etc., always choose the one that will be most easily used and most practical, remembering always that it is better to do a little thing well than to leave a big thing half done....”

The little booklet contained a list of the necessary tools with their estimated costs, and said of the chemicals to be used, “The materials to be employed should be sufficiently pure. They may be had of dealers in chemical and pharmaceutical products, and it is well not to buy all the stuff from the same merchant, in order that he may not know what you wish to make....” It explained the relative forces of explosives in this way: “The relative force which the various explosives have is as follows: Shot-gun powder has a force of 1; an equal amount of ‘Panclastite’ has the force of 6; of dynamite 7; of dry gun-cotton 9 (if with 50% of salts of nitre, 5); of nitroglycerine 9; of fulminate of mercury 10 or 3½; of nitromannite 11.... All the other explosives of which we speak, such as melenite, etc., have nitroglycerine for their bases, therefore have no greater force than that of nitroglycerine.”

After an exposition of the method of making nitroglycerine--the mere reading of which would make your hair bristle--the compilers conclude “... it is not very dangerous to use when cold, notwithstanding all that has been said. It would be a great work if some American manufacturer would devise some means of congealing it so that it would be less sensitive to shock, so that it might safely be carried on the railways.” Of fulminating cotton they remark, “As it ignites with instantaneous rapidity it is best to use a fuse that burns the most quickly; for example, when for use in bombs made to throw at a person, it will be enough to twist the cord, etc., etc.” Minute directions are given for the home-laboratory manufacture of the explosives listed, and the experimenter who cared to attempt their manufacture was warned in the simplest and most emphatic terms of the caprices of the different materials. He was told how to make cord-fuses that would burn at the rate of 8 hours to the yard, and of 6 hours to the yard; paper fuses which would reach the explosive two hours after a spark had touched the corner of a sheet of prepared paper; thread fuses which would sparkle fifteen seconds to the metre, or three minutes to the metre; and, finally, an instantaneous fuse which “Because it will burn with all the speed of electricity ... may be made to serve many important purposes: to fire a mine under a passing train, under gatherings, or troops of cavalry.”

If the bomber wished to blow up a wall, he was told how to compute by simple mathematics the quantity of explosive required. A bridge “will require twice the charge needed for a wall”--and the vulnerable points of the bridge were indicated. Telephone and telegraph poles and wires, street gratings, street railways, locomotives, steam-boilers, all came in for their share of attention. “It is very easy to find suitable receptacles for bombs,” the writer went on. “For example, large inkwells, brass handles such as are used on letter-presses.... For certain purposes a bottle may be made to serve as a bomb--they are suitable for throwing from a window.... Fragile glass bottles when filled with this solution (an incendiary mixture) make handy incendiary bombs to hurl among troops, official gatherings, etc.; also to pour from windows upon troops, or to throw from a drinking glass or pail....” I have wondered whether Gavrio Prinzip of Sarajevo ever saw this book, and whether it may not have been translated into Italian from the original German.