Children of the Market Place

by Edgar Lee Masters

A strange thing happened yesterday. Mr. Williams' grandson called upon me. He is going to South Africa with a load of mules for the British. Almost every one in America wants the Boers put down. He asked me to go along and for a moment I took him seriously. The adventurer in me arose. Then I became conscious of my stiff legs. Besides was I ever much of an adventurer after all? Why did I not travel in the splendid forties and the leisurely fifties? Still I believe I have had as much out of life as Cecil Rhodes. He started out to be rich. So did I. He got diamonds and gold. I got land. He wished to see England world-triumphant. I wanted to see America an ocean-bound republic. I followed Douglas. He was inspired by Ruskin. For Ruskin had fired young Rhodes at Oxford with these words: "England must found colonies as fast and as far as she is able, formed of her most energetic and worthy men; seizing every piece of fruitful waste ground she can set her foot on, and there teaching her colonists that their chief virtue is to be fidelity to their country, and that their first aim is to be to advance the power of England by land and by sea."

Accordingly Rhodes had set out to become rich; he plotted the supremacy of England in South Africa. And now there is war on President Kruger of the Transvaal, who was at the head of its affairs in the years when Douglas was settling Oregon and California and talking of popular sovereignty. Gold was discovered there, as it was in California; and there was a great exodus of English; and now the question is whether the Ruskin idea will triumph or Kruger's idea, which is derived from the Bible, shall triumph. The Bible is used in many ways and on all sides of everything. Kruger is an abolitionist concerned with abolishing Great Britain. But I think Great Britain will abolish him, and find plenty of Biblical authority for it. Many sacred hymns will be sung, and God will be loudly praised when the end comes.

Rhodes is using his great wealth to assist England in her war against the Boer Republic. He has advocated from a youth up the formation of a secret society with the following objects, as expressed by himself: "The extension of British rule throughout the world.... The colonization by British subjects of all lands where the means of livelihood are attainable by energy, labor, and enterprise, and especially the occupation by British settlers of the entire continent of Africa, the Holy Land, the valley of the Euphrates, the islands of Cypress and Candia, the whole of South America, the islands of the Pacific not heretofore possessed by Great Britain, the whole of the Malay Archipelago, the seaboard of China and Japan, the ultimate recovery of the United States of America as an integral part of the British Empire."

A large lust for land, dwarfing to Douglas' call to American supremacy on the North American continent, the expulsion of Great Britain therefrom, and from all dominance in the Western Hemisphere. It was rather costly to Douglas to take over Texas; and the retention of the old land of the Southern States was the nation's crisis which killed him. For any land-lust that Douglas had, he has paid. Will Rhodes pay for his lust? No, I think he will be paid for it. For he has been a success. He has seen his hopes for England all but realized. So far as the United States is concerned England has recovered it. She rules us in trade, literature, in thought. We elect our own rulers, to be sure; but England controls them, though we pay their salaries.

However, I shall not go to South Africa. I know that I may die in an instant; and though, if dying at sea, I might sink to the depth, where something of Dorothy remains, I would as soon be reduced to ashes and scattered on the shores of this lake that I have known so long. That would be symbolical of my purposeless and wasted life.

The day being fine, this being Douglas' birthday, I have come from my boarding house to the little park which bears his name, and where stands the column to his memory, crowned with a bronze counterfeit of him, standing forthright and intrepid, as I have often seen him in life. It is a clear sky with racing clouds that the statue stands against, and I almost imagine it swaying and moving, such is the illusory effect of the clouds. I enter the park and rest on a settee looking toward the lake.

Chicago has now a population of a million and a half—you will observe that this passion for figures remains with me. To the south I can see the smoke of the steel mills; to the north the towers of granite, tile, and brick of the city, and all between populous quarters. Twenty miles of city north and south; ten miles of city east and west. I am on Douglas' ninety acres, ten of which he deeded to the University of Chicago. Its three-story college building stands to the west of me about one half a mile; abandoned now. The acres themselves have passed to an insurance company on a mortgage. And in the general decay of Douglas' memory and influences this seems fitting enough.

Of course, the Civil War was waged to free the negro; and to do it it was necessary to have a protective tariff, which came into being soon after Lincoln was elected, and has been the policy of the country ever since. Also for this emancipation it was necessary to revive the bank, and this was done during the war. Not long after the war was over—about two years—the trust known as the Standard Oil Company was organized. Its moving spirit endowed the Douglas university and moved it to the Midway Plaisance. It has continued its uninterrupted graduating years from Douglas' time till now. It is still Douglas' university—at least as much so as this United States was Douglas' these United States. It is a university built out of tariff privileges and railroad rebates; while Douglas' university was built from land, which Douglas was foresighted enough to buy in anticipation of Chicago's growth, and the increment in values produced by the Illinois Central railroad. Douglas was hotly denounced for crookedness and money grabbing in those days of 1858 by the Abolitionists and Free Soilers. Indeed much is said now in criticism of Mr. Rockefeller; but I believe it will pass. Besides he is not running for office, or trying to found an ocean to ocean republic; and hence criticism does not hurt him so much.

Below me and down behind a wall the tracks of the Illinois Central roar to the wheels of numerous trains, long trains of ten and twelve cars, sleepers, diners, parlor cars, bound straight for New Orleans and New York, either place reached in twenty-four hours from Chicago. I wish Douglas could see this. Still, would he like to know that the public have no access to the lake at any place where the tracks lie between the shore and this wall? Perhaps he would see that this occupancy correctly exemplifies the fate that the free-soil doctrine has met with throughout the country.

There are sounds of trowels, voices of workmen behind me. A group of masons and laborers is repairing Douglas' tomb; for it is not scrupulously cared for these days. Postprandial orators are frequently remarking amidst great acclaim that the hand on the dial of time points to Hamilton; and if government is as corrupt as the newspapers say it is, and if Hamilton stood for corruption in government, the hand on the dial undoubtedly points to him. At this moment a young man and woman come to a settee near me. The young woman asks her companion: "Who is that monument to?" "Douglas," he answers in staccato. "Who was Douglas?" "A Senator or something from Illinois. But why change the subject? You have kept putting this off, and I have six hundred dollars saved now, and prospects are good. I would like to be ..." the rest is borne away by the wind. But I know it is the old theme. Soon his arm encircles her shoulders over the back of the settee. She looks at him and smiles. It is April! The men are repairing the mortar between the stones of Douglas' tomb. Two are masons, two are negro helpers. The negroes are as free as the whites; the whites are no freer than the negroes. They are all wanderers, looking for jobs without settled places, paying board as I do, or living in rented places. One of them may own his house. Some laborers do, not many. They are like the factory workers, the whole breed of workers throughout the land. The Civil War did not make them prosperous, or change their real status. It seems that the God of nature still rules, and that Darwin is his best prophet. These men are free to work or to starve. Some things have changed. It is no longer against the law to send abolition literature through the mail. But it is against the law to incite laborers to strike, whether they are white or black, and it is against the law for laborers, white or black, to organize themselves into unions. The slave owners were pretty well organized once, both financially and politically, but now the corporations are much better organized than the slave owners were. The negro did not dare to rebel against his master. And now the law prevents the laborer from organizing against the corporation. We have freedom now, but of a different quality. It has changed its base, but is there more of it?