Produced by Norm Wolcott
[Redactor's note: In this one of his last books Donnelly presageslater futurist works such as "Brave New World" and "1984". Theoriginal scans and OCR were provided by Mr. J.B. Hare; for furtherinformation about Donnelly and this book seehttps://www.sacred-texts.com/utopia/cc/index.htm. There is only onefootnote marked {fn1.} ]
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CAESAR'S COLUMN
A Story of the Twentieth Century.
BY IGNATIUS DONNELLY.
writing as
EDMUND BOISGILBERT, M.D.
Chicago, F.J. Shulte & Co.
[1890]
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TABLE OF CONTENTS
To the Public
I THE GREAT CITY
II. MY ADVENTURE
III. THE BEGGAR'S HOME
IV. THE UNDER-WORLD
V. ESTELLA WASHINGTON
VI. THE INTERVIEW
VII. THE HIDING-PLACE
VIII. THE BROTHERHOOD
IX. THE POISONED KNIFE
X. PREPARATIONS FOR TO-NIGHT
XI. HOW THE WORLD CAME TO BE RUINED
XII. GABRIEL'S UTOPIA
XIII. THE COUNCIL OF THE OLIGARCHY
XIV. THE SPY'S STORY
XV. THE MASTER OF "THE DEMONS"
XVI. GABRIEL'S FOLLY
XVII. THE FLIGHT AND PURSUIT
XVIII. THE EXECUTION
XIX. THE MAMELUKES OF THE AIR
XX. THE WORKINGMEN'S MEETING
XXI. A SERMON OF THE TWENTIETH CENTURY
XXII. ESTELLA AND I
XXIII. MAX'S STORY-THE SONGSTRESS
XXIV. MAX'S STORY CONTINUED--THE JOURNEYMAN PRINTER
XXV. MAX'S STORY CONTINUED--THE DARK SHADOW
XXVI. MAX'S STORY CONTINUED--THE WIDOW AND HER SON
XXVII. MAX'S STORY CONTINUED--THE BLACKSMITH SHOP
XXVIII. MAX'S STORY CONCLUDED--THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENS
XXIX. ELYSIUM
XXX. UPON THE HOUSE-TOP
XXXI. "SHEOL"
XXXII. THE RAT-TRAP
XXXIII. "THE OCEAN OVERPEERS ITS LIST"
XXXIV. THE PRINCE GIVES HIS LAST BRIBE
XXXV. THE LIBERATED PRISONER
XXXVI. CAESAR ERECTS HIS MONUMENT
XXXVII. THE SECOND DAY
XXXVIII. THE FLIGHT
XXXIX. EUROPE
XL. THE GARDEN IN THE MOUNTAINS
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_"The true poet is only a masked father-confessor, whose specialfunction it is to exhibit what is dangerous in sentiment andpernicious in action, by a vivid picture of theconsequences."--Goethe._
To the Public
It is to you, O thoughtful and considerate public, that I dedicatethis book. May it, under the providence of God, do good to thisgeneration and posterity!
I earnestly hope my meaning, in the writing thereof, may not bemisapprehended.
It must not be thought, because I am constrained to describe theoverthrow of civilization, that I desire it. The prophet is notresponsible for the event he foretells. He may contemplate it withprofoundest sorrow. Christ wept over the doom of Jerusalem.
Neither am I an anarchist: for I paint a dreadful picture of theworld-wreck which successful anarchism would produce.
I seek to preach into the ears of the able and rich and powerful thegreat truth that neglect of the sufferings of their fellows,indifference to the great bond of brotherhood which lies at the baseof Christianity, and blind, brutal and degrading worship of merewealth, must--given time and pressure enough--eventuate in theoverthrow of society and the destruction of civilization.
I come to the churches with my heart filled with the profoundestrespect for the essentials of religion; I seek to show them why theyhave lost their hold upon the poor,--upon that vast multitude, thebest-beloved of God's kingdom,--and I point out to them how they mayregain it. I tell them that if Religion is to reassume her ancientstation, as crowned mistress of the souls of men, she must stand, inshining armor bright, with the serpent beneath her feet, the championand defender of mankind against all its oppressors.
The world, to-day, clamors for deeds, not creeds; for bread, notdogma; for charity, not ceremony; for love, not intellect.
Some will say the events herein described are absurdly impossible.
Who is it that is satisfied with the present unhappy condition ofsociety? It is conceded that life is a dark and wretched failure forthe great mass of mankind. The many are plundered to enrich the few.Vast combinations depress the price of labor and increase the cost ofthe necessaries of existence. The rich, as a rule, despise the poor;and the poor are coming to hate the rich. The face of labor growssullen; the old tender Christian love is gone; standing armies areformed on one side, and great communistic organizations on the other;society divides itself into two hostile camps; no white flags passfrom the one to the other. They wait only for the drum-beat and thetrumpet to summon them to armed conflict.
These conditions have come about in less than a century; most of themin a quarter of a century. Multiply them by the years of anothercentury, and who shall say that the events I depict are impossible?There is an acceleration of movement in human affairs even as thereis in the operations of gravity. The dead missile out of space atlast blazes, and the very air takes fire. The masses grow moreintelligent as they grow more wretched; and more capable ofcooperation as they become more desperate. The labor organizations ofto-day would have been impossible fifty years ago. And what is toarrest the flow of effect from cause? What is to prevent the comingof the night if the earth continues to revolve on its axis? The foolmay cry out: "There shall be no night!" But the feet of the hoursmarch unrelentingly toward the darkness.
Some may think that, even if all this be true, "Caesar's Column"should not have been published. Will it arrest the moving evil toignore its presence? What would be thought of the surgeon who, seeingupon his patient's lip the first nodule of the cancer, tells himthere is no danger, and laughs him into security while the roots ofthe monster eat their way toward the great arteries? If my message betrue it should be spoken; and the world should hear it. The cancershould be cut out while there is yet time. Any other course
"Will but skin and film the ulcerous place, While rank corruption,mining all beneath, infects unseen."
Believing, as I do, that I read the future aright, it would becriminal in me to remain silent. I plead for higher and noblerthoughts in the souls of men; for wider love and ampler charity intheir hearts; for a renewal of the bond of brotherhood between theclasses; for a reign of justice on earth that shall obliterate thecruel hates and passions which now divide the world.
If God notices anything so insignificant as this poor book, I praythat he may use it as an instrumentality of good for mankind; for heknows I love his human creatures, and would help them if I had thepower.
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CHAPTER I
THE GREAT CITY
[This book is a series of letters, from Gabriel Weltstein, in NewYork, to his brother, Heinrich Weltstein, in the State of Uganda,Africa.]
NEW YORK, Sept. 10, 1988
My Dear Brother:
Here I am, at last, in the great city. My eyes are weary with gazing,and my mouth speechless with admiration; but in my brain ringsperpetually the thought: Wonderful!--wonderful!--most wonderful!
What an infinite thing is man, as revealed in the tremendouscivilization he has built up! These swarming, laborious, all-capableants seem great enough to attack heaven itself, if they could butfind a resting-place for their ladders. Who can fix a limit to theintelligence or the achievements of our species?
But our admiration may be here, and our hearts elsewhere. And so fromall this glory and splendor I turn back to the old homestead, amidthe high mountain valleys of Africa; to the primitive, simpleshepherd-life; to my beloved mother, to you and to all our dear ones.This gorgeous, gilded room fades away, and I see the leaning hills,the trickling streams, the deep gorges where our woolly