The first American King

by George Gordon Hastings

“I was unaware of that,” said the Professor, “and it certainly is a shocking disclosure.”

“Shocking, indeed!” retorted the High President. “I do not think there is any disputing that. And do you believe that the people were satisfied on the land question? It does not require any great depth of learning in political economy to know that the source of all wealth is the land. All that which we have is either taken from the earth, or else is grown upon or fed from the surface of the earth. Is it to be believed that God put the minerals, the oil, the coal into the earth for the benefit of an exclusive few, or that he put them there for the joint and common benefit of the masses of mankind? Did He make the surface of the earth fruitful and send the showers and the sunshine, which alone enable it to fructify, for the benefit of a chosen few, or for the common benefit of all? That the former was the case seems to have been the theory which prevailed under the Republic, for we find that the great bulk of the land was owned by the comparative few. Do you think the masses of the great cities were individually satisfied that acre upon acre of city blocks should be owned by certain families to whom all those dwelling in those blocks paid a heavy rent tribute year in, year out—a tribute amounting upon an average from one-fourth to one-third of the total income earned? What substantial difference was there between this and mediæval feudalism? And what did those land-cornerers do with the vast surplus sums accumulated from the tribute wrung from those rent slaves? The chronicles show that they cast about them for communities as yet in their incipiency but presenting possibilities of growing into populous centres of activity. In these growing communities, these land-gluttons bought up the best portions of realty, which they let lie for the time being, unused and unimproved, paying merely the low tax imposed upon unimproved property. The community was built up by the enterprise, the labor and the efforts of the masses; it grew into a city and became populous; its land became valuable. When their vacant lots had acquired value through the efforts of the people—efforts in which they had in no way participated—these land-cornerers put up structures and proceeded with the old game of levying the rent tribute. If ever there was an instance of unjust enrichment, it was this.”

The Professor remained thoughtfully silent.

“Talk not to me of the old-time Republic,” continued the High President; “it died because of its innate rottenness—because of the apathy of its people—and the littleness and corruption of its public men. Look at the infamous record of your Food Trusts, which forced up the prices of many articles of food so that they were beyond the reach of the great mass of the poorer people. Contemplate the Coal Trust, whose directing powers first advanced, under the Republic, the hitherto exclusively monarchical claim of Divine Right, and proceeded to manipulate the coal supply so that citizens of the Republic were frozen to death, while thousands of unknown and unrecorded others undoubtedly perished from diseases incurred as a result of insufficient warmth. The unfortunate poor might have derived a little benefit by burning oil, but what did the eminent citizen of that day do who, while not claiming to be God’s anointed, yet had contrived to absorb all the oil of the country? Why, he promptly took advantage of the situation and raised the price of oil. It is true that at the same time he, with reckless generosity, contributed some ten thousand dollars to a benevolent enterprise, but in the meantime he had pocketed a cool million by the advancement of the price of his commodity. Here was a million wrung out of the sufferings of God’s poor and a sop of ten thousand dollars thrown out to hoodwink and propitiate the Almighty. What must have been the Deity’s sentiments over this estimate of the financial perspicacity which sought to deceive him by such a ruse—a ruse which would have been apparent to the intelligence of the dullest office-boy employed in a commercial institution!”

“All those events were duly criticised at the time,” murmured the Professor, “and came in for their share of censure.”

“Criticism—censure!” exclaimed the High President with disgust. “But what did the people do? Did they seize upon those who withheld the food and the warmth and rush them to public execution, as did the people of France with their oppressing nobles in the days of the great French Revolution? No; they did nothing! They waited and stared and suffered like dumb cattle driven to the shambles. And the public men of the day? They conferred a good deal and they even threatened a little, but—it was a very respectful threatening in the face of Mighty Capital. The Chief Magistrate of the Nation in that day was a man still young—a man strong, vigorous and bold, who had filled various public offices ably and well and had proved himself a brave soldier in the field. He was the people’s idol and the people’s hope. There was food in plenty to be had from other lands, but it was shut out from the people’s use by an exorbitant protective tariff. Remove this tariff and food would have flooded in upon the people in boundless store and the corner in Monopoly and Death have been crushed out of existence in a week. Congress held the vested right to do whatsoever might be necessary for the welfare or safety of the people and a ringing message, couched in his old-time, fearless form, from this Chief Magistrate would have set the people throughout the length and breadth of the land ablaze with enthusiasm. It would have put him beyond the power of any clique or party, and would have exalted him to the highest pinnacle of popular idolatry as the man of the hour, the people’s choice! His party would not have dared to say him nay, for individually and alone he would have stood stronger than his party. It was an opportunity such as rarely comes to a ruler. But the voice of the cautious counselors surrounding him in his exalted station whispered in his ear: ‘You have been accused of being too bold, as lacking in conservatism. Do not frighten, or attack, the great money interests—those representing the sacred and vested Rights of Capital—lest in their fear they turn and destroy you!’ And he hearkened to this counsel. It is true, I believe, that a measure was finally passed temporarily admitting foreign coal free of tariff charge, but this measure came too late. The President’s brave heart bled for the people, but his old-time fearlessness forsook him and he failed them. And when he so failed them, the last hope of the Republic went out. The Republic was doomed. The shadows of Plutocracy and of Monarchy lowered over the land!”

“And the Monarchy which came was an improvement, you consider, upon the Republic which preceded?” asked the Professor.

“At least in this respect,” answered the High President, “that under a monarchy we may reasonably look for class distinction, for great wealth on the one side and for great poverty on the other, but in a true Republic, one worthy of the name, such distinction is as unnatural as it is iniquitous.”

“Ah, now you are about to criticise the Monarchy, I suspect!” exclaimed Mortimer. “But, pray tell me, is your Nihilism going to cure all these evils you have portrayed?”

“You speak of Nihilism,” answered the High President gravely, “as if it were the beginning and end of the entire programme. As a matter of fact, Nihilism is only the beginning. As I have told you, we must first wipe out existing institutions so that we may properly build up a new Commonwealth, or Republic, founded upon the abolition of industrial slavery, the brotherhood of man and the more equal apportionment of benefits to the race.”