In the August 10th, 1901 issue of Outlook magazine, correspondent Francis H. Nichols explored the question of anarchy as a threat to the American government in a piece titled “The Anarchists in America.” Following the assassination of King Umberto of Italy, how secure was the President from a similar attack? Though anarchists were fairly few in number at the close of the nineteenth century, just how dangerous were they? Nichols, and the rest of the country, had its answer only weeks later.
Leon Czolgosz was born in Michigan on May 5, 1873, to polish immigrants Paul and Mary Czolgosz. He was one of eight children and, when he was 10, his mother passed away shortly after giving birth to his sister Victoria.
By his mid-teens, Czolgosz found work in a factory. But following the economic crash of 1893, his factory cut wages and the workers went on strike. He was fired for his participation and blacklisted, but he was able to get his job back a year later after applying under a different name—Fred Neiman.
The experience deeply affected Czolgosz, making him more aware of the social and economic injustices facing the working class. Searching for more like-minded individuals, he found his way to a working man’s socialist club called the Knights of the Golden Eagle. The group, however, was not radical enough for Czolgosz and he, instead, joined the more extreme Seela Club where he was introduced to anarchism.
In 1898, Czolgosz quit his factory job and returned to his father’s farm in Ohio. Sources aren’t exactly clear as to why. Some suggest it was due to a respiratory illness, others speculate perhaps a nervous breakdown… but regardless of the exact reasons, the move back to the farm strained Czolgosz further. He had a rocky relationship with his stepmother and he did almost nothing to help out on the farm. He had no real friends and little interest in any romantic relationships. Instead, he kept to himself and spent his time reading radical works.
In 1900, Czolgosz found an unlikely hero…Gaetano Bresci. Now I know that isn’t a name that is well known on this side of the Atlantic, but in Italy Gaetano Bresci is infamous. Bresci was an Italian who had immigrated to the United States, but after becoming exposed to the anarchist agenda, returned to Italy to assassinate King Umberto I.
Bresci shot Umberto four times with a .32 caliber revolver on July 29th, 1900. Czolgosz who was becoming increasingly more radical in his beliefs was enthralled by the news coverage. He followed the story closely and kept newspaper clippings about the assassination.
As Bresci attributed his actions to his anarchist beliefs, it’s no surprise that the event pushed Czolgosz further toward the extreme. He began attending speeches by the prominent anarchist Emma Goldman and even spoke to her inquiring about further reading he could do or how he could get more involved in the cause. Though their interactions were brief, Goldman remembered that Czolgosz appeared young, ordinary, and even pleasant looking. She introduced him to some of her comrades but did not remain in contact with him.
Czolgosz’s youth, paired with his awkward and reclusive nature, caught the attention of his fellow anarchists… but not in a good way. They quickly became suspicious of him. That was further compounded by his eagerness to aid in violent plots and his conspicuous interest in joining secret anarchist societies. Many began to believe Czolgosz was a spy, and even went so far as to issue a formal warning about him in the Free Society newspaper.
“ATTENTION!” The Paper Read,
”The attention of the comrades is called to another spy. He is well dressed, of medium height, rather narrow shoulders, blond, and about 25 years of age. Up to the present he has made his appearance in Chicago and Cleveland. In the former place, he remained but a short time, while in Cleveland he disappeared when the comrades had confirmed themselves of his identity and were on the point of exposing him.
His demeanor is of the usual sort, pretending to be greatly interested in the cause, asking for names or soliciting aid for acts of contemplated violence. If this same individual makes his appearance elsewhere the comrades are warned in advance, and can act accordingly.”
Czolgosz’s exclusion from anarchist circles only compelled him to take matters into his own hands. He began to believe that even the most extreme and radical of the anarchists weren’t moving quickly enough or doing enough to support the cause. If he wanted to make an impact, he would have to do it himself.
In August of 1901, newspapers began covering McKinley’s planned visit to the Pan-American Exposition in Buffalo. Czolgosz, who was at this point in Chicago, read about the upcoming visit and seeing that the train ticket cost only a nickel, decided to pack his few belongings and make the journey to Buffalo.
Arriving in Buffalo on August 31st, Czolgosz rented a room from John Nowak’s boarding house at 1078 Broadway. Like Czolgosz, Nowak was of Polish descent and with so many people visiting the city that summer, did not initially find anything suspicious about his guest.
Nearly every day until McKinley’s visit, Czolgosz visited the fair. Though he wasn’t entirely sure what he was going to do, he was determined to do something. It wasn’t until McKinley’s arrival in the city that Czolgosz even decided he was going to attempt to shoot him.
According to his written confession, Czolgosz purchased a .32 caliber revolver September 4th—the same day that McKinley arrived in Buffalo. The revolver was the same gun Breschi used to kill King Umberto the previous year. His confession also divulged that he followed the President for much of the next several days looking for an opportunity to strike.
Each day Czolgosz would consult the papers—which published the president’s itinerary. He would arrive well in advance at each location to claim the perfect spot. When McKinley gave his speech on the Triumphal Bridge, Czolgosz was in the crowd right below the stage… one hand resting on the revolver in his pocket, just waiting for a clear shot.
When McKinley and his party boarded the train on the Pan-Am grounds, Czolgosz was there waiting, just by the gate through which McKinley would have to pass… though his opportunity was blocked by a guard guiding the President through the crowd. For two days Czolgosz waited, the gun constantly at his fingertips, just waiting for an opportunity.
On September 6th, Czolgosz stated that he followed McKinley to Niagara Falls, but decided to leave early to stake out the location for McKinley’s next event—a reception at the Temple of Music—where he was among the first people to be let in when the event began.
In his written confession dated September 6th Czolgosz recounts the events that led to that moment:
“During yesterday I first thought of hiding my pistol under my handkerchief. I was afraid if I had to draw it from my pocket I would be seen and seized by the guards. I got to the Temple of Music the first one and waited at the spot where the reception was to be held.
“Then he came, the President—the ruler—and I got in line and trembled and trembled until I got right up to him, and then I shot him twice, through my white handkerchief. I would have fired more, but I was stunned by a blow in the face—a frightful blow that knocked me down—and then everybody jumped on me. I thought I would be killed and was surprised the way they treated me.”
The blow Czolgosz described came from James Parker who was standing just behind him. Shortly after the first blow, Agent Forester from the secret service, as well as the guards in the vicinity tackled the assailant to the ground and pried the gun from his hands.
Agent Forester immediately searched his pockets looking for additional weapons, and upon finding none, announced to his fellow guards “He’s got no more guns boys.” He turned to Czolgosz and asked “Why did you do it?” He then gave Czolgosz a blow on the nose which brought him to the ground.
The contents of Czolgosz’s pockets were logged as being: a watch, $1.54, 2 cigars, a string, a rubber nipple belonging to a baby’s nursing bottle, and a letter addressed to the Order of the Eagles, Buffalo NY which bore the seal of a Cleveland lodge and vouched for the good standing of the bearer: Fred H. Neiman.
The president, who was still staggering from the attack told the secret service agents to “go easy on him” and as the majority of those present shifted their attention to the immediate care of the president, those handling the assailant carried him into the band room behind the stage. More to keep the angry crowd out than to keep the prisoner in, the doors were locked with Buffalo Detectives Soloman and Geary, Secret Servicemen Sam Ireland and George Foster, and Capt. Damer of the Exposition Police remained inside with Czolgosz.
As news of the shooting spread, the crowd turned violent. They demanded the assassin so they could lynch him themselves. Fearing the growing mob, Czolgosz was thrown into the back of a carriage and quickly driven off the pan-am grounds.
He was taken directly to the police headquarters for questioning where, after several hours, he confessed in full in a two-page written statement. In it, he attributed his actions to his anarchist beliefs and said the words of Emma Goldman had encouraged him. But he was clear that he had acted alone. There was no larger plot and he was not acting in conjunction with any organization.
Outside the station, the mob grew so large it quickly inundated the police and spilled into the surrounding streets. For hours, thousands milled through the city streets cursing the assassin and celebrating when positive news was reported about the president.
In Chicago, Emma Goldman was arrested and brought in for question as were several of her comrades. Though they knew of Czolgosz, no substantive connection could be made between them and the assassin and they were ultimately released. Many of his fellow anarchists went on to condemn Czolgosz’s actions saying they hurt the cause and set them back. The lone voice in his defense was Emma Goldman, who did not defend the violent act but rather his conviction to his beliefs.
As the week progressed, Czolgosz remained in custody. Though they had his confession, no charges were formally pressed. District Attorney Thomas Penney wanted to wait until the outcome of his actions were fully determined. Only then would they pursue either murder or assault with the attempt to kill.
On September 13, Czolgosz was taken from the police headquarters, which were undergoing repairs, and transferred to the Erie County Women’s Penitentiary. Later that same day, McKinley’s health began to rapidly deteriorate. The Vice President was asked to return to Buffalo, and it seemed the worst was inevitable. At 2:15am on September 14th, the fate of the two men was sealed. William McKinley was dead…and Leon Czolgosz would be tried for murder.
Following a weekend in which the city and nation mourned, McKinley’s body left Buffalo en route back to Washington. Before the fallen President’s train had even left the state of New York, the District Attorney was presenting evidence before a grand jury of the County Court of Erie County.
Though the president had died only two days earlier, Penney brought 28 witnesses before the jury to provide evidence of Czolgosz’s attempt on the president’s life. Penney presented a complete and carefully laid out case and by 4:40 that same day, the grand jury found it sufficient to indict Czolgosz with murder in the first degree.
On September 16, he was brought to the Erie County Jail ahead of being arraigned before Judge Emery. Just before 3pm, two detectives, Solomon and Geary, escorted the prisoner from the jail to the courthouse via a tunnel running beneath Delaware Avenue. Geary was handcuffed to the assassin.
Accounts state that “in passing from the basement of the city hall to the courtroom on the second floor, Czolgosz was compelled to pass close to the black and white bunting with which the pillars, ceilings, and windows and stairways of the hall were draped. This evidence of the city’s grief apparently made not the slightest impression on the prisoner. He gave no more heed to them or the large portrait of the President draped with American flags than he did to the questions of the court or district attorney.”
Since his arrest, Czolgosz spoke freely with guards but had remained mute as a statue with his lawyers Robert Titus and Loran Lewis–both prominent former judges. According to an account in the Baltimore Sun, Lewis had called upon Czolgosz at the Erie County Jail to speak with him regarding his defense, but the prisoner refused. Lewis agreed to appear on his behalf just the same. Czolgosz even refused to meet with the expert psychiatrist sent to evaluate his sanity.
Papers reported that Czolgosz entered the courtroom as the clock was striking three and that as many people as possible crowded into the room behind him. A murmur ran through the audience which was soon silenced by the judge’s gavel.
Witnesses recount that Czolgosz appeared unkempt. His curly hair was disheveled and his face unshaven. The only thing that appeared clean was his clothing. Some reportedly commented that had he given more attention to his appearance, he may have actually been a handsome man.
After the men had taken their proper places in the courtroom, Czolgosz’s handcuffs were removed and the proceedings began.
Mr. Penney asked Czoglosz if he had a lawyer. The defendant made a motion with his head but remained silent. The DA repeated the question and asked Czolgosz if he wanted legal counsel to defend him. When he still received no answer, he asked the court on the defendant’s behalf if counsel could be assigned to defend him. The arrangement would be postponed until counsel could speak on the defendant’s behalf.
The trial that would inevitably ensue raised a new problem. Many in the legal community feared that any lawyer that volunteered to defend Czolgosz might attempt to get him off on a technicality or use the case as an opportunity for self advancement. In an effort to protect against the case becoming a spectacle, counsel was assigned to Czolgosz.
It was generally agreed by the legal community that the best candidates would be Loran L. Lewis and Hon. Robert C. Titus, former justices of the Supreme Court of the State of New York. Both had sterling reputations for their integrity and jurisprudence. With both men agreeing to take the case, Czolgosz was scheduled for arrangement the following day.
On September 17th, with only one of his defense attorneys present, District Attorney Thomas Penney began by reading the indictment:
It began….
“The grand jury of the county of Erie, by this indictment, accuse Leon Czolgosz, alias, Fred Niemann, of murder in the first degree.”
When asked “How do you plea?” Czolgosz remained silent. After a moment, he moistened his lips and appeared as though he were about to speak, but ultimately said nothing. Penney inquired whether or not the prisoner understood that he must enter a plea of guilty or not guilty. Czolgosz again refused to answer. After a moment, defense attorney Lewis interjected.
He had attempted to ascertain from his client how he intended to plea, but due to his client’s lack of cooperation, he was unable to know definitively. Under these circumstances he was legally obligated to enter a plea of not guilty on behalf of his client, but retained the right to change the plea should the defendant consult with his cocounsel.
Czolgosz’s trial began in the state courthouse in Buffalo on September 23, 1901, only nine days after McKinley’s death. The prosecution took two days and called to the stand various eyewitnesses to the shooting and the doctors who treated McKinley. The defense called no witnesses, which they attributed to Czolgosz’s refusal to cooperate with them.
Their original plan was to attempt plea insanity arguing that no sane person would attempt to publicly shoot the president surrounded by secret servicemen, guards, and police. However, an insanity plea can only be used in circumstances where the perpetrator does not understand their actions or the consequences of them. Through the testimony of his prison guards and the police who interrogated him, the prosecution countered by saying as insane it may seem, Czoglosz was perfectly cognizant of his actions, their intent, and what the consequences would be.
In his 27-minute closing statement, defense counsel Lewis took pains to praise McKinley, most likely to defend his own place in the community, rather than spare his client the electric chair. There was little he could to defend the indefensible.
The case was turned over to the jury which took but a half hour to return with a guilty verdict. One jury member stated that they would have been back sooner, but they wanted to review the evidence before conviction.
On October 29, 1901…just 53 days after pulling the trigger of his gun and 45 days after McKinley’s passing, Leon Czolgosz was electrocuted by three volts of the electric chair at New York’s Auburn State Prison. He was pronounced dead at 7:14 a.m.
Lindsey Lauren Visser 