Sacco and Vanzetti: The Men, the Murders, and the Judgment of Mankind

Nicola Sacco and Bartolomeo Vanzetti came to America as Italian immigrants and departed only after being executed in 1927 for having committed a brutal double murder during an armed robbery. Bruce Watson has taken this often discussed event and written a thrilling page turner that has the feel of fiction rather than history, though one knows the story to be true. Watson has made an effort to be impartial in the work, but I felt as though he leaned a little on the side of Sacco & Vanzetti. Of course, this could be because of the worldwide protests held during their imprisonment or the obviously prejudiced judge Thayer, since these critical bylines told his story. Watson has not tried to analyze the crime, the trial or the men - instead, he has tried to provide a fair, balanced account of the events leading up to their execution, and has done a marvelous job of telling the tale. I would heartily recommend this book to anyone interested - it is an engrossing story, and Vanzetti's final soliloquy at the time of his execution will very nearly move the reader to tears. Bravo for a book so exceptionally well written, and bringing this controversial history battle back to the forefront of historical thought.

Emphasis on the "Judgment of Mankind" portion of the subtitle. Bruce Watson's impeccable, full-blown account of the Sacco & Vanzetti case is a chilling read. In 1920, two known Italian anarchists are arrested and charged with the murder of two payroll clerks in Braintree, MA. What could easily have been presented as a staid dissertation is in Watson's hands a riveting, even suspenseful story (despite knowing the outcome). Relying on court records, FBI files, and the words of Sacco & Vanzetti themselves, Watson thoroughly reviews the facts while exposing what is undoubtedly the most high profile case of injustice in Massachusetts history (perhaps even the US). Going beyond the simple facts of the case, the author captures the tensions of the times as well as the bigotry and close mindedness of an old world America not willing to accept anything even remotely questioning the American way of life. Were Sacco & Vanzetti innocent scapegoats or hell-raising radicals? Watson makes no overt claim that they were innocent of the crime, but shows enough evidence to prove that they were at least entitled to a second trial: evidence tampering; a jury hand selected at night; myriad versions of the same story told by the same people; affidavits proclaiming these men where elsewhere on the day of the crime; SIX years of appeals. If nothing else, it's difficult to believe that police solved this heinous crime in a mere twenty days! There are insightful takes on the case by the likes of Oliver Wendall Holmes (who, in what is probably the most jarring quote in the book, tell his secretary that in the US, "We practice law, not 'justice'"), Edna St. Vincent Millay, Fiorella La Guardia, and Dorothy Parker. A great take on a case that has rightly been likened to Dickens' BLEAK HOUSE.

In August 1927, the Commonwealth of Massachusetts electrocuted Nicola Sacco and Bartolomeo Vanzetti for an April 1920 payroll robbery that ended in murder. During the intervening years between their arrests and executions, the two Italian immigrants became a worldwide cause celebre. Public figures like Dr. Felix Frankfurter, who became Associate Justice of the United States Supreme Court, and socialist poet Edna St. Vincent Millay argued that both men, who were active anarchists, were condemned on the basis of their radical political beliefs instead of the evidence. This viewpoint is neither idealistic nor naïve when the political climate of the years leading up to Sacco and Vanzetti's trial is examined. Public buildings (i.e. the Los Angeles `Times' building) and the homes of those hostile to the radical labor movement were bombed with alarming frequency, leading to the Palmer Raids and a clampdown on `un-American' activity. Americans were in the throes of a Red Scare, and as anarchists accused of murder, the two Italians were crucified for the sins of their more violent colleagues. They had the misfortune of being tried in a state that was, even in the liberal Twenties, a stronghold of Yankee conservatism. The trial judge, Webster Thayer, referred to the defendants outside the courtroom as `anarchist bastards', and the jury foreman sneered to his fellow jurors, "Damn them, they ought to hang them anyway." Although he is clearly sympathetic to the plight of the `good shoemaker and the poor fish peddler', as Sacco and Vanzetti were sometimes called, Bruce Watson refrains from turning his book into one long argument for their innocence. He lets the evidence speak for itself. When he ventures an opinion, it's on the basis of solid fact, not conjecture. For example: ballistics experts asserted that one of the bullets that killed the payroll guard came from a gun found on Nicola Sacco. But four bullets were dug from the guard's body, and witnesses testified that the same man fired all four shots. So why do the other three not match? Is it possible that a bullet shot from Sacco's gun during ballistics testing was surreptitiously included with the prosecution evidence? The clear discrepancy between the evidence and the guilty verdict set off a series of demonstrations worldwide. American embassies were the targets of picketers and bombings. The Sacco-Vanzetti affair is one of the earliest examples of mass protests being employed to change the fate of a convicted person. I particularly enjoyed Watson's handling of the personal lives of Sacco and Vanzetti. Without yielding to gush or sentiment, he demonstrates that Nicola Sacco was a devoted husband and father who really believed in fair treatment for workers, while Bartolomeo Vanzetti was a deep thinker whose intelligence impressed all who met him. Even Governor Alvan T. Fuller admitted, "What an attractive man." They were hostile toward their accusers, but with some justification, as they were pr

Some names cannot be spoken by themselves, but must always be a part of a pair: Laurel & Hardy, Wilbur & Orville, Martin & Lewis, etc.. Thus we have the names of two immigrant Italian men whose execution took place almost exactly 100 years ago (August 22, 1927). In the ensuing years, a plethora of books, pamphlets, articles, dramas, etc. have been produced, each one arguing either their innocence or guilt. This extremely well-written book really tries to walk the thin line between the two extremes, but appears (to me, at least) to lean into the innocent side, or at least the side of an unfair trial. As an attorney, I was shocked and dismayed at the tactics shown by both the prosecution and the presiding judge, and I know with certainty that today any one of a multitude of errors would have given these men a new trial. Would that have made any difference? I truly don't know, but I know that they never had that second trial chance, and for that alone the authorities of the Commonealth of Massachusetts bear a heavy burden of their own guilt. Read this book and try to make up your own minds about these men: it's not easy.

Bruce Watson's new book examines the two names in its title, their subsequent trial and their eventual punishment. The result is a fine work that helps a readership in the year 2007 understand why these people and events gripped the nation in the 1920s. I'm sure I was not alone among my contemporaries in previously only knowing the summary points about the case and not much else. Thus, I appreciate Mr. Watson doing such a superb job in detailing this important drama. Themes large ( immigration and class struggle) are interspersed with small ( the trial literally had its own 'if it doesn't fit, you must acquit' moment) with very successful results. Watson has a clear and concise writing style and he possesses a gift for excellent narrative. Read it as a courtroom drama with 'characters' that a novelist would love to have created, or read it as a social history of its time with implications for the rest of the twentieth century. Either way, you'll be glad you did. Upon completing the book, I don't know Watson's opinion as to the guilt or innocent of the accused. This is a compliment to his tradecraft as a historian. He does seem to think that a second trial was warranted and although I know that some reviewers wanted more, that was enough of an opinion for this reader. In the end, I came away with a thorough understanding of the case and gratitude to an author that objectively presented the facts and then let me arrive at my own judgment. Recommended.