novel What is to Be Done? and was, to Berkman, and other radical Russian youth, the epitome of what a revolutionary should be—ascetic and, above all, dedicated to the cause. On July 22, 1892, the day before his attempt on Frick’s life, Berkman checked into the Merchant’s Hotel in Pittsburgh under the name Rakhmetov. Until that evening Berkman had been staying with Carl Nold.
13 Author’s note: An act of political assassination.
14 David Edelstadt (1866–1892) was a poet and active member of the Pioneers of Liberty. He became the third editor of Freie Arbeiter Stimme in 1891.The incident Berkman describes here may have been later than 1890. Edelstadt had to give up his editorship of the paper in October 1891 and move to Denver in search of a cure for the tuberculosis that was debilitating him. He died shortly after.
15 An affiliate of the International Working People’s Association, the Pioneers of Liberty (Pionire der Frayhayt) was founded on October 9, 1886 and was the first Jewish anarchist group in the United States—and, for that matter, the world. Members would include David Edelstadt, Moishe Katz (who had been at school with Berkman in Kovno), Roman Lewis, Hillel Solotaroff, Saul Yanovsky, and Katherina Yevzerov. In February 1889, they began publishing Varhayt, the first Yiddish-language anarchist newspaper in America. Together with the Philadelphia branch of the Knights of Liberty (Riter fun Frayhayt) they went on to establish the important Yiddish anarchist newspaper Freie Arbeiter Stimme in July 1890. Berkman joined the group in 1888.
16 Louis Lingg (1864–1887) was one of the Haymarket anarchists arrested and sentenced to death. He was the only one of the Haymarket men to be found with bombs in his possession. His behavior in court, where he evinced total contempt for the proceedings (“I despise your order, your laws, your force-propped authority. Hang me for it”), made him an iconic figure, both in attitude and style, for the anarchist youth of Berkman’s generation. Some even copied his pompadour hairstyle. Goldman would later describe Lingg as “the sublime hero” (Emma Goldman, Living My Life [New York: Alfred A. Knofp, 1932], 42).
17 Carl Nold (1869–1934) was a German-born anarchist who immigrated to the United States in 1883. Berkman stayed with Nold until the night before his attempt on Frick’s life. Henry Bauer (1861–1934) was also a German-born anarchist who immigrated to the United States in 1880 and had been active in the eight-hour-day movement in Pittsburgh. Both were supporters and associates of Johann Most and his newspaper Freiheit, and both were active in the Allegheny anarchist group. On his journey to Pittsburgh, Berkman carried a letter of introduction to Nold from Claus Timmerman who had been editor of the Autonomist newspaper Der Anarchist in St. Louis from 1889 to 1891.
18 Author’s note: Hangman.
19 Uncle Nathan was Nathan Natanson who was a successful businessman in Kovno. Uncle Maxim was Mark Andreevich Natanson (1850–1919) who was a founder of the radical Chaikovsky circle as well as the Zemlya I Volya society, the largest Russian populist group in the 1870s. He also helped mastermind Peter Kropotkin’s escape from prison in 1876. The incident that Berkman describes took place in November 1882 when the family heard that Natanson, who had been exiled to Siberia for ten years in 1879, had now, apparently, also been sentenced to death for his activities. The sentence was not carried out.
20 Golubchik is a Russian term of endearment.
21 Author’s note: Literally, milk-sucker. A contemptuous term applied to inexperienced youth.
22 A classical gymnasium school, of the type Berkman attended, had a curriculum that was based around the teaching of Greek and Latin as well as an examination of classical culture and philosophy. It usually was given the right to send its pupils on to university. Pupils attended from ages eleven to eighteen.
23 Author’s note: Schools for instruction in Jewish religion and laws.
24 On release from Russian prison one could be given a wolf’s passport instead of the normal internal passport. It limited residency to certain areas and, in consequence, often limited employment prospects. Presumably authorities could also punish “troublemakers” like Berkman, who had not been to prison, in a similar way.
25 “Mikhail” was Michelman, a Russian immigrant and member of the Pioneers of Liberty. At the time of Berkman’s attempt on Frick’s life, The New York World of July 25, 1892 reported that he had moved to Boston sometime before.
Chapter II: The Seat of War
Contentedly peaceful the Monongahela stretches before me, its waters lazily rippling in the sunlight, and softly crooning to the murmur of the woods on the hazy shore. But the opposite bank presents a picture of sharp contrast. Near the edge of the river rises a high board fence, topped with barbed wire, the menacing aspect heightened by warlike watch-towers and ramparts. The sinister wall looks down on me with a thousand hollow eyes, whose evident murderous purpose fully justifies the name of “Fort Frick.” Groups of excited people crowd the open spaces between the river and the fort, filling the air with the confusion of many voices. Men carrying Winchesters are hurrying by, their faces grimy, eyes bold yet anxious. From the mill-yard gape the black mouths of cannon, dismantled breastworks bar the passages, and the ground is strewn with burning cinders, empty shells, oil barrels, broken furnace stacks, and piles of steel and iron. The place looks the aftermath of a sanguinary conflict,—the symbol of our industrial life, of the ruthless struggle in which the stronger, the sturdy man of labor, is always the victim, because he acts weakly. But the charred hulks of the Pinkerton barges at the landing-place, and the blood-bespattered gangplank, bear mute witness that for once the battle went to the really strong, to the victim who dared.
A group of workingmen approaches me. Big, stalwart men, the power of conscious strength in their step and bearing. Each of them carries a weapon: some Winchesters, others shotguns. In the hand of one I notice the gleaming barrel of a navy revolver.
“Who are you?” the man with the revolver sternly asks me.
“A friend, a visitor.”
“Can you show credentials or a union card?”
Presently, satisfied as to my trustworthiness, they allow me to proceed.
In one of the mill-yards I come upon a dense crowd of men and women of various types: the short, broad-faced Slav, elbowing his tall American fellow-striker; the swarthy Italian, heavy-mustached, gesticulating and talking rapidly to a cluster of excited countrymen.26 The people are surging about a raised platform, on which stands a large, heavy man.
I press forward. “Listen, gentlemen, listen!” I hear the speaker’s voice. “Just a few words, gentlemen! You all know who I am, don’t you?”
“Yes, yes, Sheriff!” several men cry. “Go on!”
“Yes,”
