After the bodies of the anarchists were cut down by the sheriff's men and then examined by the state's physicians, they were given over to the dead men's families, with Louis Lingg's body entrusted to the Engels. By the next morning, Lingg and Engel lay in the Engel home at 286 Milwaukee Avenue. Parsons and Fischer were on view together at the undertaker Mueller and Hardekopf before being moved to their families' residences. The scenes outside and within these locations are depicted along the top of the engraving.

Spies's body was taken the night before from the funeral parlor by his family, who hung red streamers along with the traditional black on their front door. The crowd filing by the coffins at Mueller and Hardekopf's establishment was so large that those who lingered had to be reminded to pass quickly. Since bandages only imperfectly masked the horrible damage Lingg had done to his face, someone placed on his chest a photograph of the handsome young anarchist taken when he first arrived in America. The grim bruises left by the hangman's rope were visible on the necks of the others.

Police detectives sent to keep an eye on things mingled discreetly among the mourners, the curious, and the ghoulish. Spotting a Chicago Daily News reporter in the throng coming to view his brother's body, Chris Spies demanded that the journalist leave, exclaiming, "The papers hunted August to his grave, and the sooner you get out of here the better." Members of the Spies family also chased away two reporters from the Chicago Tribune.

Mayor John Roche issued a directive to Superintendent of Police Frederick Ebersold approving the funeral procession depicted in this engraving. The procession took place the next day, Sunday, November 13. The hearses stopped at the homes of the deceased to collect their sad burdens and then proceeded together down Milwaukee Avenue to Desplaines Street, turning left on Lake Street half a block from the site of the Haymarket meeting, and continuing on to the terminal on Fifth Avenue (Wells Street). From there the funeral party traveled by train to Waldheim Cemetery in Forest Park, ten miles to the west. The mayor specifically forbade the display of banners and speeches along the way, as well as any weapons. The only music he permitted was dirges.

The procession made for a grand, if solemn, spectacle. In addition to the hearses for the deceased and carriages for their families, the marchers included several bands and singing societies, five hundred members of various German cultural organizations, two or three times that many members of the German Typographical Union, other independent foreign labor organizations, the Central Labor Union, and organizations of skilled and unskilled workers, as well as some Knights of Labor.

The crowd that turned out along the route of the procession was estimated as several hundred thousand by the anarchists' sympathizers, as low as five thousand by their enemies. If the first figure is high, the second is low by at least a factor of ten, probably a good deal more. The Chicago Tribune, source of the low estimate, eagerly noted that the onlookers were almost "entirely foreign." The paper dismissively characterized many of those who turned out as "of the same class who pack the streets when Barnum or Forepaugh's cavalcade provides a free show." But its own description of the many different types of Chicagoans in the crowd contradicts these statements.

If there were few banners, many in the procession adorned their garments, as the Spieses did their home, with the scarlet ribbon of revolution. Even critics remarked on the orderliness of the whole occasion, though they attributed this in part to the significant police presence. Several thousand people then packed themselves in special cars provided for the trip to the cemetery, where the coffins were draped with flowers—one spelling out Spies's last words from the scaffold—and more red banners.