Caesar's Column. A story of the twentieth century

Front matter

" The Book of the Epoch. A Wonderfully Fascinating Work." CÆSAR'S COLUMN A STORY OF THE TWENTIETH CENTURY. By EDMUND BOISGILBERT, M.D. THE Press has pronounced this to be one of the most remark able books ever written. The author, a man of wealth and social position, who writes under a nom de plume, presents, in a fascinating and original work of fiction, a profound study of present sociological conditions, and follows these conditions out to what he believes will be their inevitable riesult. The events described in the story take place in the year 1988, and the scene is laid in New York City. SOME 'WEIGHTY OPINIONS. "That our people in this country need arous ing is unquestionably true, and you have brought forward a Gabriel's trump of a very different sort from the one concerning which I have been went to think." — FRANCES E. WILLARD. been met with rare ability.

The views themselves, in their general scope, are sound and Wise, and such as those who have the welfare of humanity at heart would rejoice to see realized. There are, of course, almost as many plans of reform as there ave reformers, but the present author's scheme is open to as few objections as any that I have seer ad vanced. " I was impressed with the power of the book— the vividness and atiengtn with which the tragic incidents of the tale are described and developed. The plot IS absorbing, and yet nothing in it seems forced ; and the conception of the column is as original as its treatment is vigorous. Th-ete is no padding in the book : the events are por trayed tersely and clearly. Tht analysis or the steps which lead society from the point at which it stands to-day, to that which it occupies a century hence, is reasonable and sagacious ; and the breadth of the authei's mind, as well as his careful study of social conditions, is made evident by his treatment of the discussions put in the mouths of his characters.

Justice is done to each side. * * * As must always be the case in stories of liris type, the characters arc the least valuable features of it — though Estella, in at seast one seen;, rises to i dramatic level. But the magnitude and novelty or the incidents overpower the persons. * * * I should not be surprised to see ' Cæsar's Column ' attain an immense vogue. It has many of the elements of popular success, and is, besides, an earnest and instructive piece of work- "-JULIAN HAWTHORNE, "I find in it evidence of great literary ability, abounding, as it does, in great wealth of imagery and vividness of detail- * * * As an example of high literary form, the book deserves unstinted praise."— CARDINAL GIBIiONS. "Certainly a very extraordinary production."— Rev, Bishop H. C. POT TER. "The book points out tendencies which actually ,-_ .1 and are in need of cure.

Chapter I. The Great City

[This book is a series of letters, from Gabriel Weltstein, in New York, 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 rings perpetually the thought : Wonderful — wonderful — most wonderful ! What an infinite thing is man, as revealed in the tremendous civilisation he has built up ! These swarming, laborious, all capable ants seem great enough to attack heaven itself, if they could but find a resting-place for their ladders. Who can fix a limit to the' intelligence or the achievements of our species ? But our admiration may be here, and our hearts elsewhere. And so from all this glory and splendour I turn back to the old homestead, amid the high mountain valleys of Africa ; to the primitive, simple shepherd-life ; to my beloved mother, to you and to all our dear ones.

This gorgeous, glided room fades away, and I see the leaning hills, the trickling streams, the deep gorges where our woolly thousands graze ; and I hear once more the echoing Swiss horns of our herdsmen reverberating from the snow-tipped mountains. But my dream is gone. The roar of the mighty city rises around me like the bellow of many cataracts. New York contains now ten million inhabitants, it is the largest city that is, or ever has been in the world. It is difficult to say where it begins or ends : for the villas extend, in almost unbroken succession, clear to Philadelphia ; while east, west and north noble habitations spread out mile after mile, far beyond the municipal limits. But the wonderful city ! Let me tell you of it. As we approached it in our air-ship, coming from the east, we could see, a hundred miles before we reached the continent, the radiance of its millions of magnetic lights reflected on the sky, like the glare of a great conflagration.

These lights are not fed, as in the old time, from electric dynamos, but the magnetism of the planet itself is harnessed for the use of man. That marvellous earth-force which the Indians called " the dance of the spirits," and civilised man designated " the aurora borealis," is now used to illuminate this great metropolis, with a clear, soft, white light, like that of the full moon, but many times brighter. And the force is so cunningly conserved that it is returned to the earth, without any loss of magnetic power to the planet. Man has simply made a temporary loan from nature for which he pays no interest. Night and day are all one, for the magnetic light increases auto matically as the day-light wanes ; and the business parts of the city swarm as much at midnight as at high noon. In the old times, I am told, part of the streets was reserved for foot-paths for men and women, while the middle was given up to horses and wheeled vehicles ; and one could not pass from side to side with out danger of being trampled to death by the horses.

But as the city grew it was found that the pavements would not hold the mighty, surging multitudes ; they were crowded into the streets, and many accidents occurred. The authorities were at length compelled to exclude all horses from the streets, in the business parts of the city, and raise the central parts to a level with the sidewalks, and give them up to the exclusive use of the pedes trians, erecting stone pillars here and there to divide the multi tude moving in one direction from those flowing in another. These streets are covered with roofs of glass, which exclude the rain and snow, but not the air. And then the wonder and glory of the shops ! They surpass all description. Below all the business streets are subterranean streets, where vast trains are drawn, by smokeless and noiseless electric motors, some carrying passengers, others freight.

At every street corner there are electric elevators, by which passengers can ascend or descend to the trains. And high above the house-tops, built on steel pillars, there are THE GREAT CITY. 3 other railroads, not like the unsightly elevated trains we saw pictures of in our school books, but crossing diagonally over the city, at a great height, so as to best economise time and distance. The whole territory between Broadway and the Bowery and Broome Street and Houston Street is occupied by the depot grounds of the great inter-continental air-lines ; and it is an astonishing sight to see the ships ascending and descending, like monstrous birds, black with swarming masses of passengers, to or from England, Europe, South America, the Pacific Coast, Australia, China, India and Japan. ■' These air-lines are oftwokinds: theanchoredand the independent.

The former are hung, by revolving wheels, upon great wires sus pended in the air ; the wires held in place by metallic balloons, fish-shaped, made of aluminium, and constructed to turn with the wind so as to present always the least surface to the air-currents. These balloons, where the lines cross the oceans, are secured to huge floating islands of timber, which are in turn anchored to the bottom of the sea by four immense metallic cables, extending north, south, east and west, and powerful enough to resist any storms. These artificial islands contain dwellings, in which men reside, who keep up the supply of gas necessary for the balloons. The independent air-lines are huge cigar-shaped balloons, un attached to the earth, moving by electric power, with such tremendous speed and force as to be as little affected by the winds as a cannon ball.

In fact, unless the wind is directly ahead, the sails of the craft are so set as to take advantage of it like the sails of a ship ; and the balloon rises or falls, as the birds do, by the angle at which it is placed to the wind, the stream of air forcing it up, or pressing it down, as the case may be. And just as the old-fashioned steam-ships were provided with boats, in which the passengers were expected to take refuge, if the ship was about to sink, so the upper decks of these air-vessels are supplied with parachutes, from which are suspended boats ; and in case of accident two sailors and ten passengers are assigned to each parachute ; and long practice has taught the bold craftsmen to descend gently and alight in the sea, even in stormy weather, with as much adroitness as a sea-gull. In fact, a whole population of air-sailors has grown up to manage these ships, never dreamed of by our ancestors.

The speed of these aerial vessels is, as you know, very great — thirty-six hours suffice to pass from New York to London, in ordinary weather. The loss of life has been less than on the old-fashioned steam-ships ; for, as those which go east move at a greater elevation than those going west, there is no danger of collisions ; and they usually fly above the fogs which add so much to the dangers of sea-travel. In case of hurricanes they rise at once to the higher levels, above the storm ; and, with our increased scientific knowledge, the coming of a cyclone is known for many days in advance; and even the stratum of air in which it will move can be foretold. I could spend hours,, my dear brother, telling you of the splendour of this hotel, called The Darwin, in honour of the great English philosopher of the last century.

It occupies an entire block from Fifth Avenue to Madison Avenue, and from Forty-sixth Street to Forty-seventh. The whole structure consists of an infinite series of cunning adjustments, for the delight and gratification of the human creature. One object seems to be to relieve the guests from all necessity for muscular exertion. The ancient elevator, or "lift," as they called it in England, has expanded until now whole rooms, filled with ladies and gentlemen, are bodily carried up from the first story to the roof; a professional musician playing the while on the piano — not the old-fashioned thing our grand mothers used, but a huge instrument capable of giving forth all sounds of harmony, from the trill of a nightingale to the thunders of an orchestra. And when you reach the roof of the hotel you find yourself in a glass-covered tropical forest, filled with the per fume of many flowers, and bright with the scintillating plumage of darting birds ; all sounds of sweetness fill the air, and many glorious, star-eyed maidens, guests of the hotel, wander half seen amid the foliage, like the houris in the Mohammedan's heaven.

But as I found myself growing hungry, I descended to the dining-room. It is three hundred feet long : a vast multitude were there eating in perfect silence. It is considered bad form here to interrupt digestion with speech, as such a practice tends to draw the vital powers, it is said, away from the stomach to the head. Our forefathers were expected to shine in conversation, and be wise and witty while gulping their food between brilliant passages. I sat down at a table to which I was marshalled by a grave and reverend seignior in an imposing uniform. As I took my seat my weight set some machinery in motion. A few feet in front of me, suddenly rose out of the table a large upright mirror, or such I took it to be : but instantly there appeared on its surface a grand bill of fare, each article being numbered.

The whole world had been ransacked to produce the viands named in it ; neither the frozen recesses of the north nor the sweltering regions THE GREAT CITY. 5 of the south had been spared : every form of food, animal and vegetable, bird, beast, reptile, fish ; the foot of an elephant, the hump of a buffalo, the edible bird-nests of China ; snails, spiders, shell-fish, the strange and luscious creatures lately found in the extreme depths of the ocean, and fished for with dynamite; in fact, every form of food pleasant to the palate of man was there. For, as you know, there are men who make fortunes now by preserving and breeding the game animals, like the deer, the moose, the elk, the buffalo, the antelope, the mountain sheep and goat, and many others, which but for their care would long since have become extinct.

They select barren regions in mild climates, not fit for agriculture, and enclosing large tracts with wire fences, they raise great quantities of these valuable game animals, which they sell to the wealthy gourmands of the great cities, at very high prices. I was perplexed, and, turningto the great man who stood near me, I began to name a few of the articles I wanted. He smiled complacently at my country ignorance, and called my attention to the fact that the table immediately before me contained hundreds of little knobs or buttons, each one numbered ; and he told me that these were connected by electric wires with the kitchen of the hotel, and if I would observe the numbers attached to any articles in the bill of fare which I desired, and would touch the corresponding numbers of the knobs before me, my dinner would be ordered on a similar mirror in the kitchen, and speedily served.

I did as he directed. In a little while an electric bell near me rang ; the bill of fare disappeared from the mirror ; there was a slight clicking sound ; the table parted in front of me, the electric knobs moving aside ; and up through the opening rose my dinner carefully arranged, as upon a table, which exactly filled the gap caused by the recession of that part of the original table which contained the electric buttons. I need not say I was astonished. I commenced to eat, and immediately the same bell, which had announced the disappearance of the bill of fare, rang again. I looked up, and the mirror now contained the name of every state in the Republic, from Hudson's Bay to the Isthmus of Darien ; and the names of all the nations of the world ; each name being numbered. My attendant, perceiving my perplexity, called my attention to the fact that the sides of the table which had brought up my dinner contained another set of electric buttons, corresponding with the numbers on the mirror ; and he explained to me that if I would select any state or country, and touch the corresponding button, the news of the day, from that state or CÆSAR'S COLUMN. tigers and wolves ?

Can the brain of man flourish when the heart is dead ? " I rose and left the room. - I had observed that the air of the hotel was sweeter, purer and cooler than that of the streets outside. I asked one of the attend ants for an explanation. He took me out to where we could com mand a view of the whole building, and showed me that a great canvas pipe rose high above the hotel, and, tracing it upwards, far as the eye could reach, he pointed out a balloon, anchored by cables, so high up as to be dwarfed to a mere speck against the face of the blue sky. He told me that the great pipe was double; that through one division rose the hot, exhausted air of the hotel, and that the powerful draft so created operated machinery which pumped down the pure, sweet air from a higher region, several miles above the earth ; and, the current once established, the weight of the colder atmosphere kept up the movement, and the air was then distributed by pipes to every part of the hotel.

He told me also that the hospitals of the city were supplied in the same manner : and the result had been, he said, to diminish the mortal ity of the sick one-half; for the air so brought to them was per fectly free from bacteria and full of all life-giving properties. A company had been organised to supply the houses of the rich with this cold, pure air for so much a thousand feet, as long ago illu minating gas was furnished. I could not help but think that there was need that some man should open connection with the upper regions of God's charity, and bring down the pure beneficent spirit of brotherly love to this afflicted earth, that it might spread through all the tainted hospitals of corruption for the healing of the hearts and souls of the people. This attendant, a sort of upper-servant, I suppose, was quite courteous and polite, and, seeing that I was a stranger, he pro ceeded to tell me that the whole city was warmed with hot water, drawn from the profound depths of the earth, and distributed as drinking water was distributed a century ago, in pipes, to all the houses, for a fixed and very reasonable charge.

This heat-supply is so uniform and so cheap that it has quite driven out all the old forms of fuel — wood, coal, natural gas, etc. And then he told me something which shocked me greatly. You know that according to our old-fashioned ideas it is unjusti fiable for any person to take his own life, and thus rush into the presence of his Maker before he is called. We are of the opinion THE GREAT CITY. 7 of Hamlet that God has " fixed his canon 'gainst self-slaughter." Would you believe it, my dear brother, in this city they actually facilitate suicide ! A race of philosophers has arisen in the last fifty years who argue that, as man was not consulted about his coming into the world, he has a perfect right to leave it whenever it becomes uncomfortable. These strange arguments were sup plemented by the economists, always a powerful body in this utilitarian land, and they urged that, as men could not be pre vented from destroying themselves, if they had made up their minds to do so, they might just as well shuffle off the mortal coil in the way that would give least trouble to their surviving fellow citizens. - That, as it was, they polluted the rivers, and even the reservoirs of drinking-water, with their dead bodies, and put the city to great expense and trouble to recover and identify them.

Then came the humanitarians, who said that many persons, intent on suicide, but knowing nothing of the best means of effecting their object, tore themselves to pieces with cruel pistol shots or knife wounds, or took corrosive poisons, which subjected them to agonizing tortures for hours before death came to their relief; and they argued that if a man had determined to leave the world, it was a matter of humanity to help him out of it by the pleasantest means possible. These views at length prevailed, and now in all the public squares or parks they have erected handsome houses, beautifully furnished, with baths and bedrooms. If a man has decided to die, he goes there. He is first photographed ; then his name, if he sees fit to give it, is recorded, with his residence ; and his directions are taken as to the disposition of his body.

There are tables at which he can write his farewell letters to his friends. A doctor explains to him the nature and effecf of the different poisons, and he selects the kind he prefers. He is ex pected to bring with him the clothes in which he intends to be cremated. He swallows a little pill, lies down upon a bed, or, if he prefers it, in his coffin ; pleasant music is played for him ; he goes to sleep, and wakes up on the other side of the great line. Every day hundreds of people, men and women, perish in this way ; and they are borne off to the great. furnaces for the dead, and consumed. The authorities assert that it is a marked im provement over the old-fashioned methods; but to my mind it is a shocking combination of impiety and mock-philanthropy. The truth is, that, in this vast, over-crowded city, man is a drug — a superfluity — and I think many men and women end their lives out of an overwhelming sense of their own insignificance; — in other CÆSAR'S COLUMN. tigers and wolves ?

Can the brain of man flourish when the heart is dead?" I rose and left the room. I had observed that the air of the hotel was sweeter, purer and cooler than that of the streets outside. I asked one of the attend ants for an explanation. He took me out to where we could com mand a view of the whole building, and showed me that a great canvas pipe rose high above the hotel, and, tracing it upwards, far as the eye could reach, he pointed out a balloon, anchored by cables, so high up as to be dwarfed to a mere speck against the face of the blue sky. He told me that the great pipe was double; that through one division rose the hot, exhausted air of the hotel, and that the powerful draft so created operated machinery which pumped down the pure, sweet air from a higher region, several miles above the earth ; and, the current once established, the weight of the colder atmosphere kept up the movement, and the air was then distributed by pipes to every part of the hotel.

He told me also that the hospitals of the city were supplied in the same manner : and the result had been, he said, to diminish the mortal ity of the sick one-half; for the air so brought to them was per fectly free from bacteria and full of all life-giving properties. A company had been organised to supply the houses of the rich with this cold, pure air for so much a thousand feet, as long ago illu minating gas was furnished. I could not help but think that there was need that some man should open connection with the upper regions of God's charity, and bring down the pure beneficent spirit of brotherly love to this afflicted earth, that it might spread through all the tainted hospitals of corruption for the healing of the hearts and souls of the people. This attendant, a sort of upper-servant, I suppose, was quite courteous and polite, and, seeing that I was a stranger, he pro ceeded to tell me that the whole city was warmed with hot water, drawn from the profound depths of the earth, and distributed as drinking water was distributed a century ago, in pipes, to all the houses, for a fixed and very reasonable charge.

This heat-supply is so uniform and so cheap that it has quite driven out all the old forms of fuel — wood, coal, natural gas, etc. And then he told me something which shocked me greatly. You know that according to our old-fashioned ideas it is unjusti fiable for any person to take his own life, and thus rush into the presence of his Maker before he is called. We are of the opinion THE GREA T CITY. 9 of Hamlet that God has " fixed his canon 'gainst self-slaughter." Would you believe it, my dear brother, in this city they actually facilitate suicide ! A race of philosophers has arisen in the last fifty years who argue that, as man was not consulted about his coming into the world, he has a perfect right to leave it whenever it becomes uncomfortable. These strange arguments were sup plemented by the economists, always a powerful body in this utilitarian land, and they urged that, as men could not be pre vented from destroying themselves, if they had made up their minds to do so, they might just as well shuffle off the mortal coil in the way that would give least trouble to their surviving fellow citizens. • That, as it was, they polluted the rivers, and even the reservoirs of drinking-water, with their dead bodies, and put the city to great expense and trouble to recover and identify them.

Then came the humanitarians, who said that many persons, intent on suicide, but knowing nothing of the best means of effecting their object, tore themselves to pieces with cruel pistol shots or knife wounds, or took corrosive poisons, which subjected them to agonizing tortures for hours before death came to their relief; and they argued that if a man had determined to leave the world, it was a matter of humanity to help him out of it by the pleasantest means possible. These views at length prevailed, and now in all the public squares or parks they have erected handsome houses, beautifully furnished, with baths and bedrooms. If a man has decided to die, he goes there. He is first photographed ; then his name, if he sees fit to give it, is recorded, with his residence ; and his directions are taken as to the disposition of his body.

There are tables at which he can write his farewell letters to his friends. A doctor explains to him the nature and effect of the different poisons, and he selects the kind he prefers. He is ex pected to bring with him the clothes in which he intends to be cremated. He swallows a little pill, lies down upon a bed, or, if he prefers it, in his coffin ; pleasant music is played for him ; he goes to sleep, and wakes up on the other side of the great line. Every day hundreds of people, men and women, perish in this way ; and they are borne off to the great. furnaces for the dead, and consumed. The authorities assert that it is a marked im provement over the old-fashioned methods; but to my mind it is a shocking combination of impiety and mock-philanthropy. The truth is, that, in this vast, over-crowded city, man is a drug — a superfluity — and I think many men and women end their lives out of an overwhelming sense of their own insignificance ; — in other words, from a mere weariness of feeling that they are nothing, they become nothing.

I must bring this letter to an end, but before retiring I shall make a visit to the grand parlours of the hotel. You suppose I will walk there. Not at all, my dear brother. I shall sit down in a chair; there is an electric magazine in the seat of it. Itouch a spring, and away it goes. I guide it with my feet. I drive into one of the great elevators. I descend to the drawing-room floor. I touch the spring again, and in a few moments I am moving around the grand salon, steering myself clear of hundreds of similar chairs, occupied by fine-looking men or the beautiful, keen eyed, unsympathetic women I have described. The race has grown in power and loveliness — I fear it has lost its lovableness. Good-bye. With love to all, I remain your affectionate brother, GABRIEL WELTSTEIN.

Chapter II. My Adventure

My Dear Heinrich I little supposed when I wrote you yesterday that twenty-four hours could so completely change my circumstances. Then I was a dweller in the palatial Darwin Hotel, luxuriating in all its magnificence. Now I am hiding in a strange house and trem bling for my liberty ; — but I will tell you all. Yesterday morning, after I had disposed of a sample of our wool, and had called upon the assayer of ores, but without finding him, to show him the specimens of our mineral discoveries, I returned to the hotel, and there, after obtaining directions from one of the clerks at the " Bureau of Information," I took the elevated train to the great Central Park. I shall not pause to describe at length the splendours of this wonderful place ; the wild beasts roaming about among the trees, apparently at dangerous liberty, but really enclosed by fine steel wire fences, almost invisible to the eye ; the great lakes full of the different water fowl of the world; the air thick with birds distin guished for the sweetness of their song or the brightness of their plumage ; the century-old trees, of great size and artistically grouped ; beautiful children playing upon the greensward, accompanied by nurses and male servants; the whole scene constituting a holiday picture.