Everything I read about the Chicago Anarchists in 1886 and 1887 and nearly everything I heard about them indicated that the accused men were guilty. … - Art Young

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Everything I read about the Chicago Anarchists in 1886 and 1887 and nearly everything I heard about them indicated that the accused men were guilty. The news reports of the case in the dailies were quite as biased against the defendants as were the editorials. Few who read the charges that some of them had advocated violence against the police realized that they were driven to that extreme by the wanton clubbing, shooting, and killing of workers by the police in the fight of the big industries against the eight-hour day movement. (Chapter 10. Four Dissenters Silenced by the Rope)

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About Art Young

Arthur Henry Young (January 14, 1866 – December 29, 1943) was an American political cartoonist.

Also Known As

Alternative Names: Arthur Henry Young Arthur Young Arthur H. Young

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Additional quotes by Art Young

It seems unbelievable at this distance that we assailed a candidate because he combed his hair the wrong way, but that is a part of the record of mud-slinging in American politics. And I was a participant on the front page of a leading newspaper [The Inter-Ocean].

Dante's Inferno was peopled mostly with those who had committed crimes recognized as such by the statute laws of this world. I enlarged the conception of this inferno to include many other kinds of offenders-in fact, all of us. I wanted a bigger and better-a democratic Hell, and modern efficiency. I felt that editors, preachers, politicians, poets, landlords, lawyers, cartoonists-and many others-should not be exempt from a properly planned region for future punishment. (September 16th)

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September 1st: As I begin these notes, I am where I ought to be in the summer, at my home among the stone-fenced hills of Connecticut. I will be 60 years of age January next. Three things are worshipful-the Sun, giver of life; a Human Being who believes something worth while and will die for it if need be; and Art, the recreator of life. I walked to the village today and noted a gentle rise of my spirits as I watched the butterflies careen through the fields of goldenrod.

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