_THE FRUSTADTS IN CHICAGO._
Professor Frustadt passed two or three weeks very agreeably in Boston,
and then visited New-York City, Philadelphia, and Washington, going
from the latter place to Chicago. It is a common saying that no
European tourist ever thinks of returning home without having seen
Niagara Falls and Chicago--the one, a marvellous natural wonder; the
other, the greatest monument of rapid municipal growth, grandeur, and
enterprise, not only in America, but in the world. As well go to Europe
without seeing Paris, or play Hamlet with “Hamlet left out,” as to come
to America without going to the great Western metropolis. To begin with
an unpromising morass, upon which were located a few log shanties,
and in half a century transform it into one of the grandest cities of
modern times, with a site ten feet above the natural level,--embracing
the most stately architecture and finest system of parks and boulevards
upon the continent,--is an accomplishment which never fails to interest
a European tourist.
It is sometimes asserted by ungracious and disappointed rivals, that
Chicagoans are unduly forward in proclaiming the merits and advantages
of their city, but veritable, impartial facts are a sufficient
justification for high claims. Unfair critics, inspired by jealousy or
ignorance, often picture it as excelling other cities in depravity;
but, while the situation is complicated by the presence of a great
unassimilated alien element, in perhaps no other city are the moral
forces more active, enterprising, and aggressive.
Professor Frustadt arrived there one pleasant morning, and was
immediately driven to one of the great palatial hotels for which the
city is distinguished. Before sufficient time had elapsed for rest
and refreshment, a visitor’s card was sent up to his apartments,
which proved to be that of an old Heidelberg friend by the name of
Blumenbach. The latter had been apprised of the professor’s expected
arrival, and of the place where he would be found. After an hour’s chat
about old times in the ancient University city, Blumenbach proposed
an extended drive. The professor was anxious to visit some of the
educational and eleemosynary institutions, but his friend persuaded
him to defer that until another day. They went through one of the
tunnels which pass under the river, to the “North Side,” and made
their first stop at the water-works. The professor was much interested
in the absolute perfection of the ponderous machinery which pumps up
the water from the tunnel through which it is conveyed under the lake
from a “crib,” which is located some miles from the shore. Out there,
the water is deep and clear, and, being drawn into the “crib,” it is
brought into the city without coming in contact with the less pure
water nearer the shore.
“This water system,” said Blumenbach, “is superior to any other in the
world.”
They drove on to Lincoln Park, and, after greatly admiring its
beauties, continued for some distance further on the “Lake-Shore
Drive.” At length Blumenbach stopped the carriage, and, pointing out a
vacant piece of land, observed,--
“Here is some property which belongs to the Terra Firma Investment
Company, of which I am vice-president. We are now offering building
lots at prices which will yield immense profits in the near future.
Improvements which are proposed in the vicinity will doubtless enhance
values to two or three times the present standard within the next five
years. We are continually making profitable investments for Eastern and
European customers.”
“My visit is for pleasure and investigation, rather than with any
anticipation of business or investments,” replied the professor.
“Assuredly,” said Blumenbach, “but, being an old friend, I feel
it a duty to just call your attention, in passing, to such golden
opportunities.”
The next day they visited the Board of Trade.
“This seems like a veritable pandemonium,” observed the professor.
“Yes, it is a little noisy,” replied Blumenbach. “Do you see that old
fellow with a broad-brimmed slouch hat? He frequently buys and sells
millions of bushels of grain in a single morning. With such operators a
hundred-thousand-bushel transaction is a trivial affair. I can get you
some points, if you would like to take ‘a flyer’ for a few days.”
“I confess I do not quite comprehend what you refer to by ‘a flyer,’”
replied the professor. “I fancy that it must be something quite out of
my line.”
“Oh, it is only a sale or a purchase, which can be closed at a profit
within a few days.”
“I fear that it is too rapid for me,” replied the professor.
One day they made an excursion to the model town of Pullman, a few
miles south of the city limits. There were golden opportunities for
investment in land in that vicinity, and all along the way. Another
day they visited some of the great packing houses, where droves of
cattle, sheep, and hogs enter at one end of the establishment, and
emerge in the form of beef, mutton, and pork, in barrels, at the other
end. In that neighborhood, also, the most “tempting opportunities” for
profitable investment were observable on every side.
The professor was much interested in many institutions, and especially
in the rapid manner of transacting business, which was so unlike that
of his own country. Blumenbach’s peculiarity of combining business with
pleasure, and his enthusiasm in regard to the prospects of his adopted
city, quite surprised him. The evolution of his slow and easy-going
friend and countryman, into the keen, enterprising, enthusiastic
American citizen, was an interesting commentary upon the transforming
influence of environment.
On one occasion, after enumerating various points of superiority in
Chicago over any city elsewhere, Blumenbach jocosely observed: “We
excel even in anarchists. We have the most advanced and thorough-going
specimens to be found in America.”
Just at that time there was much activity among the various groups
of radical socialists and anarchists, who had made Chicago their
abiding-place. Meetings were held nightly in those quarters where
the population was composed of Poles, Bohemians, and the lower class
of Germans, at which violent and inflammatory addresses were made by
agitators and leaders.
“As a matter of curiosity, I would like to obtain some insight into the
plans and purposes of these people,” said the professor, “especially as
quite a proportion of them are natives of Germany. You are aware that
I am much interested in sociology. If it were possible I would like to
attend one of their meetings.”
“I think we can easily accomplish that,” replied Blumenbach. “I will
ascertain if it can conveniently be brought about, and inform you of
the result of my inquiries.”
Early in the evening of the second day following, Blumenbach made
his appearance at the hotel, dressed in a laboring-man’s garb, with a
slouch hat and very large pipe, and brought an extra suit of the same
kind for the professor.
“With these habiliments, our native tongue, and pretended sympathy for
the cause, I think we will have no difficulty in gaining admittance to
the meeting of a ‘group’ which takes place this evening on the West
Side,” said Blumenbach.
Dismissing their carriage before they reached the neighborhood of the
hall, they made their way to the entrance, and, after undergoing some
examination and cross-questioning, they succeeded in gaining admission,
though all native Americans were rigorously excluded.
The hall was located in the rear portion of the fourth story of a
cheap, plain building, and was seated with rough wooden benches. Every
window was closely curtained, and as the professor and his friend
entered, the dense smoke from bad tobacco, the stifling atmosphere, and
the general appearance of the motley crowd seemed rather forbidding.
They had been obliged to pass two sets of sentinels, but were excused
from giving signs and pass-words, under the plea of being recent
emigrants from Germany, and thorough friends of the “Revolution.” There
were present, perhaps, two hundred laborers of the lowest class, whose
brutal and debased faces revealed their quality at a glance. Small red
flags were festooned back of the platform, and on the sides of the
room. Piles of tracts and pamphlets of the most violent anarchic and
atheistic type, in the Polish, Bohemian, and German languages, were
ranged on shelves upon each side of the entrance, and also upon the
platform. Some of them were printed in red to give them a heightened
effect. The sentiments which they inculcated included the destruction
of all government, the laudation of Anarchy and Atheism, the hatred of
all who possessed property, and the advocacy of a general destructive
revolution which should bring all survivors to a level.
“This is a little more than we bargained for,” said the professor in a
whisper to his friend, as they quietly took the most obscure seats that
were unoccupied.
“That’s a fact, professor; if they should suspect that we are spies,
our position would be uncomfortable. They are bound by the most
terrible oaths to shield each other in any emergency in which they may
be placed.”
Three or four speakers occupied seats upon the platform. It was evident
from their appearance that they did not belong to the laboring class.
Their function was to agitate the stolid, passive material before them,
and mould it by inflaming passions of envy and hatred into such forms
and activities as they might choose. Incidentally they handled the
funds collected from the group, and also paved their way to political
preferment in those wards where they had “influence.”
The speaking began. One of the more enthusiastic orators emphasized his
harangue by waving a red flag, singing the Marseillaise, and also by
tearing into strips a small American flag, and trampling them under his
feet.
After three of the younger speakers, one each in the Polish, Bohemian,
and German tongues, had addressed the audience, the chairman announced
that the closing speech would be made by a German who had been one of
the leading anarchic spirits of Europe, and who had come to America to
help inaugurate the “Revolution” here.
“I present to the meeting ‘Comrade’ Stellmacher.”
As the speaker arose to begin his address, his face was rather pale,
his eyes fiery, and his long, bristling hair stood out so that it gave
him a wild and belligerent aspect. He surveyed his audience in silence
for a few moments, and then began an impassioned oration, of which but
a brief synopsis can be given. “My fellow-anarchists,” said he, “we
are met to consider the best means for the destruction of our combined
enemies, which are, the State, Religion, the Family, and Property.
We must let nothing in the world interfere with our single aim and
thought, the Revolution. We must break with the whole Civil Order and
all its laws, customs, and morals. For us there is, and must be, but
one pleasure, one duty, that of inexorable destruction. We must be
the enemy of all government and all its leadings and manifestations.
To destroy or take possession of the great stores and warehouses by
which we are surrounded, is our positive duty. _Our_ hands built them,
and they belong to _us_. We will take their accumulated products and
apply them to our own use and comfort. Firearms are too cumbersome and
expensive for our use, but explosives, scientific explosives, can be
brought within the reach of every one. Hurrah for science! Hurrah for
dynamite!”
These words were accompanied by violent gestures. His eyes shot forth
lurid gleams, and his pale face had become livid. Even through the
dense and murky atmosphere which filled the room, the professor saw two
bright scars flaming out upon the speaker’s cheek.
“Everything is sacred which will hasten the impending overturn,”
continued the speaker. “In such a service, robbery and murder become
only incidents in the war for progress.
“The ballot is a mockery! the courts are a lie! and this government,
as well as the monarchies of Europe, is a delusion and a sham! Your
servitude as wage-workers is worse than the slavery of the negro as it
existed years ago. We must strike a blow in order to be free. You must
learn to hate, and hate strongly, and let it be directed towards your
condition, and against all who, through the present system, keep you in
bondage.”
The audience soon dispersed, except a secret inside group of eight,
of whom the speakers formed a part, who remained behind for executive
business.
On the following day, as the professor took up an evening paper,
his eye fell on the displayed headlines of an article, of which the
following is a copy:--
EXPLOSION ON THE WEST SIDE.
A MAN FATALLY INJURED.
The Fire Department was called out this morning to extinguish an
incipient conflagration in Wallenstein Street, which was caused by
a mysterious explosion. As accurately as can be ascertained, a man
by the name of Stellmacher, or Frustadt, was handling some kind
of explosive material, which accidentally became ignited, fatally
injuring the man, wrecking the house, and setting it on fire. The
flames were soon extinguished.
On the day succeeding the accident, the following telegram was received
by Van Roden, from the coroner of Chicago.
TO JUNIUS VAN RODEN, CAMBRIDGE, MASS.
A man by the name of Stellmacher, alias Frustadt, has died from the
effects of an explosion. When he found that his injuries were fatal,
he said that you were his nearest friend, and requested that his body
be given to you. No one here claims his remains, and the authorities
will forward them to you, if you will defray the necessary expense.
V. P. VERMIGO, _Coroner_.
The following was the response:--
V. P. VERMIGO, CORONER, CHICAGO.
Please forward Stellmacher’s remains as proposed. I will defray all
expenses.
JUNIUS VAN RODEN.
No medical college ever gained a more legitimate title to “a subject”
than Van Roden acquired by this transaction. The occupant and owner of
a fleshly tenement, finding that he no longer had use for it, turned it
over to his nearest friend. Having served its natural purpose, it might
as well be utilized artificially.
To Van Roden that lump of clay was all that remained of his friend. The
vital part had only been an attenuated material force or energy in a
high form of evolution, but was now disorganized and resolved into its
original elements.
Has a refined and intelligent animal in human form an inherent
immortality? This is a question which has puzzled theologians and
philosophers during all ages. St. Paul says, “The mind of the flesh
is _death_.” The sensuous mind comes to an end. The question recurs,
“Is there a spiritual residuum, which in any true sense can be called
personal, which continues?” Without attempting any distinct solution of
this problem, it is evident that the immaterial residuum of the human
animal is so lean, misshapen, and abnormal, that if it have continued
existence, it can only be through long processes of discipline,
corrective punishment, and education that, in _any degree_, approximate
spiritual harmony and perfection is possible.
There is a spark of Divinity in every human being; a “light which
lighteth every man that cometh into the world;” but it may fairly
be questioned whether or not, in the case of the individual who
leads merely a sensuous existence, the divine spark is in any degree
incorporated _into_ his personality. If it be, that is life; otherwise
all is death. Death cannot signify continued life. All that is evil
must die. If there be any future place, where life and evil conjointly
and eternally exist, then God can never become “_All in All_.” Evil,
not being a God-created power or entity, must be a mental condition of
man’s own creation. Its seat and throne are in “the mind of the flesh.”
In due time Stellmacher’s body was received by Van Roden. Its inanimate
features, as they were exposed, plainly expressed hatred and malignity.
The scars were still upon the cheek, but they had flamed out for the
last time.
We shall spare the reader any ghastly details of the dissection, which
was thoroughly and scientifically performed by Van Roden and some of
his fellow medical students.
Three days after it had taken place, Van Roden began to be conscious
of a soreness and inflammation upon one of his fingers. While engaged
in the operation, he accidentally had given it a slight incision with
the keen point of one of the instruments. It was so trivial at the time
that he hardly noticed it. Day by day the swelling increased, and the
inflammation extended through the arm, and finally it permeated his
entire system. The utmost efforts of the medical fraternity were futile
to arrest the progress of blood-poisoning which had set in.
In exactly two weeks subsequent to the evening when the dissection had
occurred, Van Roden followed Stellmacher.