Virtually all of the publications that appeared in the weeks and months following the bombing vilified the defendants and celebrated the verdict. This viewpoint not only reflected public opinion generally, but also the fact that the media were controlled by the enemies of anarchy. In addition, the Chicago police shut down a number of anarchist and radical publications either directly or by arresting their essential staff members. Nevertheless, several proanarchist pamphlets were issued during the trial, and Dyer D. Lum was able to publish his Concise History of the Great Trial of the Chicago Anarchists.

Lum, like Albert Parsons, could trace his ancestry back to colonial New England. He was active in anarchist politics and worked as a bookbinder in New York when the Haymarket bombing occurred. The news drew him to Chicago, where he became a confidante of the prisoners, who entrusted him with telling their side of the story. In addition to preparing the Concise History, Lum devoted himself to getting Parsons's newspaper, the Alarm, back in operation, which he did in early November of 1887, just before the executions.

Lum's narrative is very different from that in the other "instant histories," though his vivid diction is quite similar. Following the bombing, Lum asserts, "Property alone found voice" and "trembled for its existence before a phantom; every way-side bush seemed a secret danger; fear paralyzed reason, and force—arbitrary and illegal—held full sway." Lum compared the trial to other great atrocities committed in the name of law by those in power, including the Inquisition. Such atrocities were all part of "the fundamental question of modern civilization, Authority versus Liberty."

"To sum up," he concluded, ". . . the defendants were tried for being social heretics, for long and persistent invective against social conditions, for prominence as 'leaders.'" Lum included in his book Captain Black's closing argument, an interview with Parsons published shortly before the trial in the Daily News on the subject of the eight-hour movement, and the text of the letter from the defendants asking him to write his history.

In the style of the antianarchist histories written by authors like Paul Hull and F. O. Bennett, Lum closed his narrative with a defiant poem of his own:

My rights! 'Tis easy to run o'er the score,
For they are marked by anguish, tears and pain,
A right to add a mite to garnished store
When I have toiled to increase others' gain;
A right to call my wife and babe my own,
But not the muscle on which they depend;
A right to love when other joys have flown,
But not from hunger always to defend;
A right to beg toll from sordid greed,
But only as a favor must I crave;
A right to starve 'mid plenteousness—from need,
But not to claim more than a pauper's grave.
Yet aye! And may they heed who rights would spurn,
The right of e'en the trodden worm to turn.