diff --git "a/data_all_eng_slimpj/shuffled/split2/finalzzscbl" "b/data_all_eng_slimpj/shuffled/split2/finalzzscbl"
new file mode 100644--- /dev/null
+++ "b/data_all_eng_slimpj/shuffled/split2/finalzzscbl"
@@ -0,0 +1,5 @@
+{"text":"\n**O CaDOIRO**\n_ER\u00cdN MOURE_\n\n# O CaDOIRO\n\nPoems\n\nCopyright \u00a9 2007 Er\u00cdn Moure\n\nAll rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or  \nby any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information  \nstorage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.\n\nPublished in 2007 by  \nHouse of Anansi Press Inc.  \n110 Spadina Avenue, Suite 801  \nToronto, ON, M5V 2K4  \nTel. 416-363-4343  \nFax 416-363-1017  \nwww.anansi.ca\n\nDistributed in Canada by  \nHarperCollins Canada Ltd.  \n1995 Markham Road  \nScarborough, ON, M1B 5M8  \nToll free tel. 1-800-387-0117\n\nDistributed in the United States by  \nPublishers Group West  \n1700 Fourth Street  \nBerkeley, CA 94710  \nToll free tel. 1-800-788-3123\n\n11 10 09 08 07 1 2 3 4 5\n\nLIBRARY AND ARCHIVES CANADA CATALOGUING IN PUBLICATION DATA\n\nMour\u00e9, Erin, 1955\u2013  \nO Cadoiro : poems \/ Erin Mour\u00e9.\n\nISBN-13: 978-0-88784-757-8  \nISBN-10: 0-88784-757-9\n\nI. Title.\n\nPS8576.O96C33 2007 C811'.54 C2007-900069-X\n\nLibrary of Congress Control Number: 2007921130\n\nCover design: Bill Douglas at The Bang  \nFront-cover image: Tim Laman\/National Geographic\/Getty Images  \nBack-cover image: \" _O Rev\u0103rsare_ ,\" photo by Er\u00edn Moure  \nTypesetting: Laura Brady\n\n_We acknowledge for their financial support of our publishing program the  \nCanada Council for the Arts, the Ontario Arts Council, and the Government of  \nCanada through the Book Publishing Industry Development Program (BPIDP)._\n\nPrinted and bound in Canada\n\u00ab J'aurais aim\u00e9 qu'il y ait derri\u00e8re moi une voix qui parlerait ainsi : \u00ab Il faut continuer, je ne peux pas continuer, il faut continuer, il faut dire des mots tant qu'il y en a, il faut les dire jusqu'\u00e0 ce qu'ils me trouvent, jusqu'\u00e0 ce qu'ils me disent \u2014 \u00e9trange peine, \u00e9trange faute, il faut continuer, c'est peut-\u00eatre d\u00e9j\u00e0 fait, ils m'ont peut-\u00eatre d\u00e9j\u00e0 dit, ils m'ont peut-\u00eatre port\u00e9 jusqu'au seuil de mon histoire, devant la porte qui s'ouvre sur mon histoire, \u00e7a m'\u00e9tonnerait si elle s'ouvre. \u00bb \u00bb\n\nM. Foucault, _L'ordre du discours_\n\n\u00ab The double intensity animating language does not die away in a final comprehension; instead it collapses into silence, so to speak, in an endless falling. \u00bb\n\nG. Agamben, _The End of the Poem_\n\n_\u00ab Pulcherrime tamen se habent ultimorum carminum desinentiae, si cum rithmo in silentium cadunt. \u00bb D.Alighieri_\n\n# O CaDOIRO\n## Book ONe\n\n\u00ab Daqui n\u00e3o se podia ver o regato, mas percebia-se o lev\u00edssimo rumor deslizando sobre as pedras, e na atmosfera, que era como cristal verde, pairava uma frescura que n\u00e3o era s\u00f3 da primeira hora de anoitecer. \u00bb\n\nJos\u00e9 Saramago, _Todos os nomes_\n\n## tHe faLL\n\nLisbon is sleeping;  \nthe spaces under the staircase breathe like  \na lung.  \nThe loneliness inside horse-drawn vehicles  \nwas transferred to us on their demise.  \nRain falls into the Tejo.  \nReverence waits in the streets  \nand on the roof tiles.\n\nThe city of Lisbon is asleep.  \nThe Phoenician city is asleep and the Roman city is asleep  \nIt is Sunday and the city of Lisbon  \nbreathes like a lung  \nbreathes like a lung  \nasleep on its side\n\na dog asleep on its side in a house in the Lapa  \na chandelier on its side in the Bairro Alto.\n\n25 Janeiro 2004\n\nReal lungs have journeyed to Lisbon  \nLungs in a coat, arriving now  \nin Lisbon.  \nA carriage is not enough for a lung.  \nA river is enough for a lung!\n\nA carriage has journeyed into Lisbon,  \nlook, the lung has turned away  \nand is walking.\n\nThe lung wants a river or nothing.  \nThe lung can make its own river and its own  \ncoitas.\n\nHow haughty of the lung!\n\nSome hands are slicing potatoes in the kitchen.  \nI am alone in the streets of Lisbon.  \nThe cobbles are kicked up  \nfractured, the hands keep cutting potatoes.\n\nThe player falls dead on the field;  \nfor a moment, pain's syncope, then nothing!  \nThe hands in the kitchen cut potatoes.  \nPotatoes come from the earth!  \nFar earth. Earth below Lisbon.  \nPain like that is surprising  \nbut doesn't last.last long.\n\nSea.\n\nPessoa: The sea _(scribbled.)_ . . . How haughty of the lung!\n\nThe mouth of the sea?  \nA lungs' mouth too common in an aching world  \nSo many ancestors wore their molecules differently  \ncoats  \nmeals, sweaters  \nas the wind comes up. Will you be there?\n\nWhen you're hungry you move  \nso fast you bear snow in you.\n\n50 years since it's\n\nsnowed in Lisbon.\n\nThe wind in the street at dawn  \nThe street winds and dawn dawns  \nPieces of alegria  \nWhen I see her, she's haloed in light  \nI dream, I dream  \nshe pulls the dawn with her\n\nand with the dawn, daylight  \nand with daylight, absence  \nwhich is mine.\n\nOr the hill could wash dream from my very clothing?  \nYou were with me, did the wind pull my shirt loose?  \nAnd tore the light so darkness foundered.  \nAnd tore the darkness so ddawn came!\n\nAlba, dawn. I cherish your spring, your water.\n\n[534] #569 O Rei Dom Dinis\n\nI can t sleep for grief.  \nI can t sleep for longing.  \nI can t sleep for wanting happiness!  \nMother, how will I live.  \nWho will sing a canticle?  \nThe word bower?\n\n(I can t sleep, I don t believe now in service  \nto the king! The king s a traitor.  \nHe s going to kill what I most love!)\n\n[776] #833 [777] #834  \nPero da Ponte\n\nA heart in a corner.  \nA pocket-sized heart?  \nAn electric register: cephaloid.  \nA heart like a pine cone you can see into.  \nInto!  \n\"When I walked _out_ the door, . . .\n\n\u2248  \nWhat would you do to capture green?  \nI have gone in another direction.  \nSomeone gave me their sail too  \nI am unfolding it, hesitant  \nThere s a cataract in my lung  \nI could sail on  \nfor I can t sail on a sea!\n\n(I wanted to talk and didn t dare.  \nI wanted just to look at your shoulder!)\n\nI wanted a new lung, and a comb.  \nOr a new lung, and snow!\n\nEhrn \u00c7ihrij\n\n_wherein Senhor is world and my vassalhage is love of world_\n\nIn that touch the eyes have  \nonly  \nI want your eyess touch!  \nFar away!  \nSleet in the hillside, sleet into  \nthe rows of dark twigs  \nsleet on the road down from the moor.  \nFar away!\n\nThe hills are absent, your hills \u2014 I don t  \nsee them either. I may as well  \nnot look.  \n(Far away.)\n\n[775] #832  \nPero da Ponte\n\n The Galician rhymes \"only\" with \"touch,\" as if to startle the listener. Early commentators believed the sentiment of the poem distracted the copyist, who then erred in the transcription. _Touch only. Far away!_\n\nA dead rat seen in the Mouraria  \non the Costa de Castelo a dead rat seen  \nits tail strung outward in the cobble\n\n(my heart missing you)\n\non the cobbles of the Mouraria so high up  \nunwanted life that ran  \nran out crushed ran out of time\n\n(my heart missing you  \nits own beast loses heart)\n\nStrick or struck by harm s way\n\n(my heart misses you)\n\n[ ] #1391\n\nMar\u00eda Balteira\n\n Here we find the nub of lyric poetry: that one thing can stand for another. Not as metaphor \u2014 a torque to tamp the profligacy of real-time data \u2014 but that concrete experience can distill to \"mere figure\" or \"basal signifiant.\" Cobbles. The resemblance of the author's name to the traditional district of whores in Lisbon. Not appropriative figuration but a _d\u00e9bordement_. How in the _cantiga de amigo_ , absence of the lover is not expressed in the abstract, fixed conventions of the poems of courtly love but, for the first time, concrete images enter: sea, ships. Or as in this poem: the washing of the lover's shirt. _O reva\u0103rsare_.\n\nI can t separate the lungs from  \nthe air.  \nOne day death will come!\n\nIf you write back to me is all  \nI care.  \nFor one day death will come!\n\nFrom all care is writing, the lungs  \nto wear.  \nFor one day deaths host will come to me too  \none day care will write back to me, behind me\n\nOut of the air!\n\n[ ] #1392  \nMar\u00eda P\u00e9rez Balteira\n\nIn this age, can one  \nswear love?  \n(The green light of early morning.)\n\nThe light of early morning vanishes if you wait.  \n(And would I swear love?)\n\nMy oath is a filigree of light  \nI wear still.  \n(When morning passes, there s such green!)\n\nThe green thread you gave me my wrist  \ndoes always bear.  \n(In morning, it catches light for me.)\n\n[ ] #1393  \nMar\u00eda P\u00e9rez Balteira\n\nMy eyes, not seeing you, to all else  \ngo blind.\n\nIs it you, from far off, blinding me?\n\nSo many others just look up from their mundane  \ndesks, and see you.\n\nThey re blind too, without a clue  \nof what blindness is.\n\n(Green plants see me, I can t bear  \nto see them.)\n\n(Ducks, white leaves. The air  \nof Lisbon.)\n\n(Ships.\n\n[ ] #1394\n\nMar\u00eda A. Soldadeira\n\nThe excess, \"ships,\" is one way of hoping for love.\n\nThe snow s between us. Not just  \nmiles but miles of snow.  \nIs there a kind of light can see through snow?\n\nDo you have your coat on?  \nI am restless in my very heart, Mother, Mot  \nher.\n\nDon t say you ll stop me if I go into that snow.  \n(Miles of snow, Mother, miles.)\n\n[ ] #1395\n\nMar\u00eda P\u00e9rez, known as _A Balteira_\n\n The attribution of number and author appears utterly speculative. On other authority, we know Mar\u00eda P\u00e9rez or Balteira or A Balteira as _soldadeira_ , a dancer and singer salaried to amuse men of court and soldiers, her name used in the satirical cantigas to scorn those whose wood she milled. Yet the 40 missing cantigas . . . if she be trovadora too? The Vatican, where the intact copy of the songbook had been placed, is silent on the matter 350 years later.\n\n_9 janeiro. very sore lungs and tired. Burning. I just have to  \nstay calm and quiet, take extra rest in the afternoon, maybe go  \nsee Gus van Sant's_ Elephant _. And work on what_ the subject _is.  \nIs this to do with_ trobar _. To trobar these days is caer.  \n_ CAER.TOFALL. _Mundo exemplar. With the weight on  \nexistence. When this falling exists, I know_ existence _does too._\n\n_\"N\u00e3o ser\u00e1 igualmente a partir de an\u00e1lises deste tipo que se  \npoder\u00e1 reexaminar os privil\u00e9gios do sujeito?\" MF  \n(the phrase at times is in dispute as the paper itself is in  \n\"a lamentable state of corruption\":_ I want to speak no ill  \nof love _becomes_ I am rightly afraid of love\n\n## WINDfaLL\n\ngilt iron  \nbrass  \nmannerism\n\npau-santo  \nferro dourado  \ncouro gravado\n\nlat\u00e3o  \nmaneirismo  \nrosewood\n\nmannerism  \ngilt iron  \nbrass\n\nc\u00e3es  \nbellhops  \ncement mixers\n\nguardachuvas  \ncasacos vermelhos  \ncasacos de coiro  \nilumina\u00e7\u00f5es  \nberros  \nfacs\u00edmiles  \nencantos\n\ncan\u00e7\u00f5es  \ncoisas  \nchoses\n\na \u00e0lva\n\nl'archive\n\neva\n\nad\u00e3o\n\n**_O que me ocurreu paseando por Olispoa_**\n\nTalv\u00e9z there are homes and castles  \nHomens, lavagens, rings, centimetros  \nVials of perfume, p\u00f3rticos  \nexpectorants\n\nassignments corrections casacos fatos  \nespadas currunchos grails\n\nfates fados faros faroas fazendas  \nrevolu\u00e7\u00f5es  \nparas\u00edntaxes no solpor\n\nocaso\n\ntestamentos calibra\u00e7\u00f5es figuras fiindas  \nferramentos\n\nat\u00e9fiindas mo\u00e7\u00f5es\n\nmilandrosas agon\u00edas sinf\u00f3nicas  \npeles doces\n\ncadeiras cadeias molhos carn\u00e9s\n\ndiminu\u00e7\u00f5es alegrias\n\n**_2_**\n\nS\u00f3 \u00e9 que quero falar  \nquero fechar a data co destino  \nquero fazer palavras\n\ne quando abondan as palavras  \nquerer\u00eda inventar o s\u00edntaxe  \nquero mudar verbos para outros verbos  \ntempos  \nt\u00edmpanos  \nouvidos  \naloumi\u00f1os\n\ncolmeas e caixinhas de lixo  \npor qu\u00ea  \no autor \/ a autora  \ntem  \num interior\n\ne uma parte deste interior j\u00e1 n\u00e3o est\u00e1 tocada\n\npela sociedade pelo\n\nEstado\n\n***\n\no interior que tem a autora pode ser _Elephant_.  \nmas n\u00e3o \u00e9.  \n(o suxeito falando que al\u00f3 n\u00e3o existe)\n\n_15 janeiro. sick. bronchial sick. antibiotic sick (thirsty). and  \nwho knows. frights and smallness of the body. I hate it. almost  \n2 wks here now not doing well enough to do anything.  \nvariations on a word, then its opposite. the languages mixed  \nup in my head. Ca non uei e, pero uei eu, quanto uei eu  \nnon m i ual ren. . . ._\n\n_Then the fiinda:_\n\nE ia o non posso negar:  \nalguen me faz assy andar.\n\n_[364] #421, [366] #423 Joham de Guylhade_\n\n\"All in all, we must confess that the cantigas present difficulties: problems with interpretation, ambiguities, confusing passages and points of obscurity.\"\n\nMarques Braga, 1945  \n _(tr. from Portuguese by EM)_\n\n\u00ab . . . cette agitation n'est possible qu'autant que quelque chose  \nreste \u00e0 determiner, qui ne l'a pas \u00e9t\u00e9 encore. \u00bb\n\nJean-Fran\u00e7ois Lyotard, 1988\n\n## BefaLLeN  \nI\n\n_Assy querei_  \n _buscar_  \n _uiuer_  \n _outra_  \n _uida, que prouarei,_  \n _emeu desor da cabarey._\n\nNun Eannes Cerzeo\n\n(B-135)\n\nI don t even have death to fear  \nmidday though  \nscares me there s a haunted and people  \nwaiting for books  \nnoisily\n\n(sheet of paper)\n\nWhat if I talked to you again?  \nCould the street sing any wider?  \nThe raisonnement of my canci\u00f3n s  \never been lacking\n\nWhere lyric foils me, the poem  \nthe poem  \nthe poem  \n[the transcription is excelente and mui limpa]  \n[the escriptora has at last been paid]\n\nthe foil\n\n[1236] #1288 Ffernan Do Lago\n\nI promised I would not go to that hermitage  \nUntil he too could go  \nThe lake itself might need to wander  \nto reach him\n\nThat he be there  \nA lake sacred and undeciphered.  \nHurt and error by the shore?\n\n(I ve such great desire for that lake!)\n\nSancta Mar\u00eda, Sancta  \ndo Lagu [h]e mi gram ben\n\nthe creek fills with rain and a sheaf of wwater\n\n(But I won t go there until he comes.)\n\n[272] Rodrigu Ianes Rrendondo\n\nA sleeping poem. I can t love you  \nasleep or . . .\n\n[heartache where the beloved is the world?]\n\n\"perplexity and silence\"\n\n[290] Johan Lopez D Ulhoa\n\nAre you going to love lyric as you said  \nor be belligerent?  \nShove it!  \nTry to let one or more of them die  \nIn the verse, fallatiously.\n\nThat the improvident won t go away  \nTristamor d tr~es!  \ntrees?\n\nSibilence.\n\ntrees.\n\nSibilhence.\n\nAll the pleasure in few such words  \nwords' renamence, wants\n\nto its trove rove.\n\nIs this scorn? or merely\n\nbad manners  \nunwillingness\n\na false engagement\n\nUp your ass!\n\n[534] #569 O Rei Dom Dinis\n\nI will go where the river pools to wash camisas  \nright at dawn.  \nI m going to wash soft gauze as soon as new light enters  \nAt the deepest pool I m going to wash them  \nLet me go, I need to be alone at  \nDawn\n\nSuch light there is\n\nand from the pool I see the fall of waters  \nIf only I could see a boat  \njust a small boat where the river enters my sea!  \nOne small mark, one, such light there is\n\nAnd I ll raise the chemise I held then  \nand light air will wash it memory s light  \nDawn\n\nCataract I see you! _o meu cadoiro_  \nfalling (lucent)\n\nLet me go, let me see ,  \nyou, white dories of dawn\n\n The startling word \"shirts\" appears. Not our shirts of today, worn outside, in colours, but the garment worn closest to the skin. Woven of fine thread, undyed. So as not to itch.\n\n[626] #663 Ayras Carpancho\n\nI m going to Santiago to pray, perhaps I ll see my love.  \nI m going to burn candles, and with such heartache  \nthere I ll wait to see my love.\n\nIn the sanctuary I ll burn candles and  \nI ll dance\n\nif I see my love\n\nIn the sanctuary I ll pray before lit candles  \nSuch heartache  \ndancing heartache\n\ntill I see my love.\n\n_peut-on se satisfaire, la science comme tel, s'interroger ici, qui ne veut pas  \nparler aux fant\u00f4mes, rendre compte ou n'en rendre raison_\n\nhere a strange note:\n\n\"G (plus repetition\"\n\nYou who would tarry by me  \nDo I make you tarry? Three thoughts  \nImmense and impossible make me  \nCall you. Did you say \"go elsewhere\"?  \nThat _no_ , no _rhyme_?\n\nI didn t think so.  \n\"Cacofeton.\"\n\n[17]  \nAyras Moniz D Asme (Eiras?)\n\n hu~a palaura que se non deue meter na cantiga \/ que he tanto come palaura fea e s\u00f5a mal na boca \/ e algunas uezes tange en ela cacoirian, ou lixo \/ que nom conuem de seer metudo en boa cantiga.\n\nPlease waken. I am suffering from so many  \nconsonants, consoants, and I am  \nnot a good sufferer.  \nMy modem and god awakens me  \nlight over Lisbon.  \nThere should be rhymes. I spent such hours!  \nA field and sunlight, water dripping from a roof  \nand marsh grasses.  \nPlease waken. Come see this light with me, for I  \nam not a good sufferer.\n\n[18]  \nDiego Moniz?\n\n \"Por que istos son cantigas e estamos no verao.\" (fevereiro)\n\nI can t get better when I can t see you  \nOr I can, and I will. It s no secret I ve  \nbeen trying, my cough is less now  \nthere s a bird in the tree,  \nthe rain s but mist \u2014 _orballo_ \u2014  \nand Caroline has brought me a sheaf of paper.  \nWhen I can t see you, and I will.  \nTo tell you this secret: bird, tree, will:\n\nsheaf of paper.\n\n[30]  \nNun Eanes Cerzeo\n\nThat the improvident won t go away  \nTristamor d tres!  \nWanting to punctuate a life, or call it.  \nTristamor   n\u00f5 podemos andar\n\nTogether \u2014 this moment \u2014  \nTrees?\n\nSibilence.\n\nTrees\n\nSibilhence.\n\n[290_50] #350  \nJohan Lopez D Ulhoa\n\n The trovador repeats and corrects his song.\n\nWhat is an archive? (Grief) What is a book? (Trespass)  \nA book s where breath s seal is broken, breaks. The  \nanatomic structure of a body is not allowed to occur (but  \nmust). . . .\n\nO que \u00e9 espectral no cancioneiro \u00e9 o sopro. Ce souffle qui  \nsort \u00e0 m\u00eame le corps, _a respiraci\u00f3n_ non pas entre mais \u00e0  \nl int\u00e9rieur des mots. \"Cela parle, un fant\u00f4me.\"\n\nEq~talhatarda becomes \"e quant' al\u00e1 tarda\"\n\n\"e quant' el tarda\"\n\n\"e quanta lh atarda\"\n\n_Visually, she sent herself into apopl\u00e9xia, desl\u00e9xia, until \"do\" and \"go\" looked identical to her._\n\n(shallow r ripples)\n\n[1184] #1236  \nPae Caluo\n\nThe record of how a language actually breathed in its human (now  \nvanished) correlates\n\n\u00ab tout le sens \u00bb\n\nvenant toujours d ailleurs\n\n\"at my own grief. 7 that of my heart\"\n\nThese eyes' astonish  \nSTONES. Harken\n\nmays como  r  o aia c\u00f5 de  \nPraz me muyto deque non s\u00e3[ ]  \nDe comeu moyro\n\n\"But these eyes weep  \nas you wish\"\n\non ne peut pas y croire, la croyance, aucun statut possible, d'un alphabet et d'une langue, la traduction de tout ceci, inscriptions trouv\u00e9es en grand nombre, vivaces ses h\u00e9ritiers, autant de fr\u00e8res, chaque fois n'a montr\u00e9, autre chose qu'un spectre\n\n[328_55] #386  \nFernam Gon\u00e7alues de Seura\n\nO flower of greenest Pine  \nIf you ve from my beau received a sign  \nO God and where is ee?\n\nO flower oh! on bright green twig  \nIf you ve from my swain a sign small  \nO God and where is ee?\n\nIf you ve from my beau the slightest sign  \nFrom he who lied when he swore he  \nO God and where is ee?\n\nIf you ve from my swain a sign small or big  \nFrom he who swore love but it s not  \nO God and where is ee?\n\n\u2014 You re asking me if I ve news of your beau  \nHe s alive and well as far as I  \n\u2014 O God and where is ee?\n\n\u2014 You re asking me if I ve news of your swain  \nHe s well and alive from what I can  \n\u2014 O God and where is ee?\n\n\u2014 He s alive and well as far as I know  \nAnd will be at your side before time s run  \n\u2014 O God and where is ee?\n\n\u2014 He s well and alive from what I can gain  \nAnd will be at your side before time s  \n\u2014 O God where is ee?\n\n[533] #568  \nO Rei Dom Denis\n\nIf God answers prayers, and I prayed:  \nAh already, so unlikely!\n\nDon t look at my eyes.  \n(I ve been crying.)\n\nIf god wanted to assure my good!  \n(Already, don t look at my eyes.)\n\nIt s early.  \n(Don t see my eyes.)\n\n[628] #665  \nVasco Gil\n\nIt s early, I ve gone walking.  \nSo you won t see my eyes!\n\nOnly the leaves will see my eyes  \nthese branches as I m walking.\n\nWalking is not yet prayer  \nstops short\n\nI am thinking of my mother, blind.\n\nI too have eyes from the steppe, azure!\n\nAbur, abur. Wake up, Mother.  \n(Don t see my eyes.)\n\n[628 bis_87] #665  \nV.G.\n\nPast _As Augas_ , to _As Casas Escondidas_ ,  \nnear the grove I named alone _O Serradoiro_ ,  \nlimpid waters green 7 I don t see you\n\nNo ships but the ships of the King  \nThe will of the King\n\nNo ship but gravel crumbling into fast waters  \n _nas augas caendo_  \nfluvial, detritus in the riverine birch still high  \nwhere the flood rose.\n\nO Mother. I call you that. My mother.  \nUpland tall shrubs, mainly willow.  \nGrief flecks me too!  \nBedrock of the Palaeocene exposed along steep escarpment.  \nI call you river. Kootisaw.\n\n(for I cannot call her)\n\nOnly death or prison could keep me away  \nI m waiting for you too!  \nDo you think the day will come?\n\nOr are all these serments sorrows  \nAre all these oaths just paper\n\n(which doesn t speak.)\n\nThe day that day will come?  \n(it doesn t speak.)\n\n[630_87] #666  \nDom Joham d Auoyn\n\nDo you think the news comes on paper?  \nLeaves are paper too!  \nI m through being in such grief at the world s  \nmurderous tilt\n\nOr I m just in grief  \nIt s a way of defending \/ the blood a little\n\nTill love comes  \n(it s \u2014 she s \u2014 almost here)\n\n[631_88] #667  \nDom Joham d Auoyn  \n _pra O._\n\nLeuantoussa uelida  \nLeuantoussalva  \nEuay lauar camisas  \nEno alto  \nUaylas lauer Alua\n\n[534bis] #569 O Rei Dom Dinis  \nas in JL Nancy : _o\u00f9 discerner l'\u00e9criture, sinon \u00e0 m\u00eame son \"graph\u00e8me\"?_\n\n_her faithful transcription_\n\n_This night of liquid storms, high noon s dwelling_\n\nThi snigh tofliqu idstorms, highn oons~ duu ellin~  \nCan you follow me in the markings we call  \nwords through such liquidity?\n\nLiquidity s vault, that vault s over  \nall t brough near it  \nPul sof rayn, epiphn ny?\n\n_\u00ab Plus d'un, comme moi sans doute, \u00e9crivent pour n'avoir plus de visage. \u00bb_\n\n  C\u00e1lgharii M.\n\n[449] #504  \nDom Dinis\n\nWhere there s some exact token of the world  \neve~ a tree, the white noon light  \non its bark\n\nWe were walking back from the field. . . .  \n(but you were never in a field)\n\nThe mud on our instruments was flecked with seed,  \n(but you did not return from that field)\n\nAnd seed s a token of the world  \nAs my L~ were to me, as world is now\n\n(ah but one day in such a field, one hour, one seed?)\n\n[631 bis _88] #667  \nDom Joham d Auoyn\n\nIt was that thread and that  \ntower I climbed threading every  \nhour and not again craving  \ndeath instead of ache in every  \nbreath marked alone, aloneness where I  \nsit still.\n\nDo you make stones of words as towers  \nare of stones?\n\n(when you come back; speak to me)\n\n(I still have that thread, that tower)\n\n[671] #708  \nGon\u00e7al Eanes Do Vinhal\n\nIt was at the fountain where I washed my curls,  \nMother, and where I did loosen them\n\nand me\n\noh lucent\n\nIt was at the spring where I rinsed my locks  \nMother, and where I did loosen them\n\nand me\n\nLucent\n\nAt the fountain where I did loosen my curls  \nthere I knew \u2014 Mother \u2014 one to lord over them.\n\nand me\n\nLucent oh\n\nBefore I from that place departed  \nLoosened was I in the words he d told me\n\nand me\n\noh oh [lucent\n\n[652] #689  \nDon Joham Soarez Coelho  \n\u00ab and so I did appease them \u00bb\n\nI am unhoused, outside  \nthe door, in love  \nMother \u2014 can your own child love  \nanother more  \nthan she loves you?\n\nLight candles for me in the sanctuary  \nthat the arches may light up and flicker\n\n(I am in love.)\n\nMother, I a.i.l.\n\n[774] #831  \nPero da Ponte  \n _p.dr., qu.o._\n\nSome days I don t know  \nwhy I was born.\n\nNot since I ve seen you!\n\nThe birds settle down in the field  \nto eat seeds in fall.\n\nBut I can t settle, there s no sof twhite  \npetal under my wing.\n\n(Not since I ve seen you!)\n\n_Monday : p. 371 Vol 4_\n\n_(as above.) reread._\n\n[922] #979  \nPero da Ponte\n\nDoes a flower sleep?  \nDoes a branch, touched once by the bird, tremble?  \nI wish at times I could be touched by  \nsleep, that I could\n\nforget\n\nI once walked into that rriver  \nbranched out, trembling?\n\nWhat folly to have tried!  \nAy, Ssam Tyago.\n\n[811] #870  \nAyras Nunes Clerigo\n\nNo boatsman comes to my island  \nnor can I row.\n\n(I ll die beautiful out at sea.)\n\nA boat could bring you to this island  \nWhy it doesn t, I don t know.\n\n(You ve died beautiful out at sea.)\n\nI m at sea without you, this  \nmuch I know.\n\n(The waves are close to me.)\n\nIt s a season of storms.  \nMy love s not altered!\n\n[ ] #1397  \nMar\u00eda Soldadeira\n\nRain s fall or choiva,  \nwhat do any of us know?\n\nWe were out studying so long by that water  \nCars passing by, trucks, conveyances\n\nAnd me, you, any of us  \nWetly walking\n\n_E amores tantas coytas lhy dan_\n\n[672] #709  \nGon\u00e7al Eanes do Vinhal\n\n\"This development of _pt_ to (xt) followed by vocalization of the palatal was characteristic of Celtic: _aceptar_ (L) becoming _aceitar_ (PT).\"\n\nJos\u00e9 Pedro Machado, _Origens do Portugu\u00eas_ , 1967 citing Edwin Williams, _From Latin to Portuguese_ , 1962 citing Georges Dottin, _Manuel pour servir \u00e0 l'\u00c9tude de l'Antiquit\u00e9 celtique_ , 1906\n\n*\n\nThat the palate and speaking timbre of a vanished language can enter another, as accent. After travelling as far away as Canada on the back of a fish, feeding directly from its blood, the ciclostome, _a lampreia_ , returns to the Rio Limia where it was born, to seed its young before it dies.\n\nIn the Portuguese writings, the ciclostome is said to be favoured and succulent.  \nIn the English writings, it is said to be of little use to man.\n\nConstat du vendredi 30 janvier: That writing is not, and can never be, a prosth\u00e8se for memory. Derrida: \"L'archive est hypomn\u00e9sique.\"\n\n_Jean Ullmo_ : \"Onde \u00e9 que se encontra o que especifica um autor? Bem, o que especifica um autor \u00e9 justamente a capacidade de alterar, de reorientar o campo epistemol\u00f3gico ou o tecido discursivo, como formulou.\"\n\n_\"traversed by body\"_\n\n_my discursive fable_\n\nSaint Marja of thefields  \nwill my friend be there\n\nI m just going out now to pray  \nwill my friend be there\n\nI m going on a romaria  \nI might not be back tonight\n\nwill my friend be there  \nin that field SaintMaria\n\nI hope he comes  \nI ll pray\n\n[703] #739  \nDon Affonso Lopez de Bayam\n\n_An oration clearly sexual in connotation, albeit with a single evocation of the sea._\n\nOn an island, there re waves everywhere!  \nA small island.\n\nSimon became Peter and Peter became Pedra!  \nA small island.\n\n(Will you come?)\n\nI don t know how to row a boat.  \nI m no swimmer either.\n\n(Will you come?)\n\ne u~a! I thought I d see you  \narriving.\n\nBut there s no boat on the high sea!  \nThe waves arrive empty.\n\n(Will you still come?)\n\n[795] #852  \nMeendinho M.\n\n## _devenue le sujet spectral :_  \nL\u00b4YRIC POETR\u00b4Y\n\nwritten upon an erasure _rriam_  \nwritten upon an erasure _gran poder_  \n _eu . . . sazon_ written upon an erasure  \nwritten upon an erasure.  \nin the right margin: _o. sennor_ nn written upon an erasure.  \nalso deleted by horizontal line.\n\n_malegrar eg_ partially obliterated  \nbadly spotted: pasted to board cover. when removed, the lines were  \nproduced in reverse, readable in the negative of photography. a  \ncombination of original folio and the board impressions produces the  \ntext we accomplish here. there commenced my bad times, of which I  \nhad never feared, I dreamed all my sleep, and now.  \npartially erased  \nwritten upon an erasure  \nwith a horizontal line  \nwritten upon an erasure in the right margin partially obliterated  \npartially smudged written also in left margin  \nerasure between these words erasure of the i after s  \nsecond e superposed above er.  \nin left margin in light ink: 7.  \nwritten upon an erasure: in left margin _am\u00b4j_  \nit would be better just to kill me  \nthe one gone silent wills it so  \nTo me kill willdo much more good  \nerasure between these words  \nalso deleted by horizontal line  \nerasure erasure partially faded and written upon an erasure  \nin left margin ca morrerei. smudge over _qu_.\n\nsmudge over _ee_  \nsmudged smudged also smudged  \nerasure of _nunca_ between these two words  \nwritten upon an erasure _polo gr\u00e3_  \n _ei i_  \n _que ui_  \n _ei euerdade_  \n _do o_  \n _cuiden_  \n _que . . . ren_  \n _pre g~utar_  \n _no me_  \n _meu u_  \n _uos_  \nillegible illegible rrespondeolhe  \nferrfram.\n\n\u00ab Le sujet, donc, est la possibilit\u00e9 que la langue ne soit pas, n'ait pas lieu \u2014 ou, mieux, qu'elle n'ait lieu qu'\u00e0 travers sa possibilit\u00e9 \u2014 de ne pas \u00eatre, sa contingence. \u00bb\n\nG. Agamben  \n _Ce qui reste d'Auschwitz_\n\nI did not know what to do with breath  \n(until I knew you)\n\nMy only habits were so worn!  \n(until I knew you)\n\nTo the air I show myself, a jacket  \noutside, a being inside\n\n(until I knew you)\n\nI had. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .\n\n. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .\n\nAll this talk about boats, and kings.  \nIt s raining, and kings are in tombs.  \nstone kings, stone tombs.  \nDo you remember the joy of readiness?  \nJoy in the sea?\n\n(I am on a vast prairie wandering.  \nI am on a vast pvaiv  \nvast, wandering)  \n. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   \n. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .\n\n[1095] #1150 bis  \nJoham Zorro\n\n*This folio much deteriorated, and it is clear that the copyist did not know the language.\n\nI ll never master the art of poetry. I  \nhave these words: sadness and tears!\n\nI m not going to put them into lines for  \nyou. Or ask for death. Or tell you\n\nI suffer endlessly, courting  \nyou.\n\nSadness and tears!\n\n[807] #864  \nDom Johanne Meendiz de Breteyros\n\nThe world s not a home I can swear allegiance to.  \nThe world s not my home!\n\nThere s nothing traded there that tempts me  \nOutside thoughts\n\n(Thoughts tempt me.)\n\nI might row to that island? Row to him?  \nInwords?\n\nBless, figuration.\n\n[1108] #1163  \nRoy Marques do Casal  \n(peut-\u00eatre)\n\nMother, keep me from going to San Seruando, because  \nif I go there, I ll die of love.\n\nIf you love me, keep me well loved!  \nIf I go now to San Seruando I ll die of love.\n\nIt s perfidy you keep me from  \nIf you love me, keep me back  \nI ll die of love\n\nIf you don t keep me from such perfidy  \nas going to San Seruando roaming  \nI ll die of love\n\nI can only beg you to stop me  \nfrom going to San Seruando to see my beloved  \nIf you don t keep me here  \nI ll let him pierce me\n\nBut keep me now, that I may not see him  \nThis cannot be that I know him  \nI ll die of love\n\nI ask you now  \nDon t let me leave for love\n\n[1083] #1149  \nJoham Seruando\n\nIf I see the ocean, it flows  \ninto my heart, I too  \nam water!\n\nFurther than this, I cannot go.  \nSmall organs. Beauty waving.  \n(I cannot go.)\n\n(I cannot look more or again at the sea.)\n\n[844] #903  \nRoy Fernandez de Santiago\n\nI m not pleading any thread of love  \nuntil I see you.\n\nI m not plaiting my hair above  \nuntil the sea brings you.\n\nBack from where you ve gone.  \nTo serve history and the King?\n\n(I don t know what to do  \nand don t advise me, oh my friends.)\n\n[861] #918  \nPero Gon\u00e7aluez de Porto Carreyro\n\nThat day I lost your ring  \nin the green pine  \n(crying.)\n\nThat way I lost your token  \nin the green branch  \n(crying.)\n\nIn the green pine  \nthat ring of yours rests  \n(crying.)\n\nIn the green branch  \nyour token lies  \n(crying.)\n\n[863] #920  \nPero G. de P.C.\n\nI m going to walk to the mountain. As if  \nwe could meet there!\n\nFirst I must dream the mountain  \nwill it be verdant? Hazed with summer?\n\nOr will I walk to you through  \nsnow.\n\n(My heart.)\n\n[871] #927  \nRoy Fernandez, Clerigo\n\nWhat love a mother has!  \nDaughter, go to Seville!  \nIf I were you, I d go.  \nThat lad s in the service of the King  \nwhose service will be the end of him.\n\nGo now! (I am  \nyour mother, and  \ncannot send you  \nfrom me  \n, but go.)\n\nI grieve not yet, though will  \nyes will  \nwhen I see you, daughter, grieving.\n\nGo to Seville!\n\n[877] # 932  \nR.F.C.  \nnul autre qu'un spectre\n\n_(parle ce spectre)_  \n\\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -\n\nThat day I lost you  \nin the grey road\n\n(crying.)\n\nThat way I lost your token  \nat the grey fork\n\n(crying.)\n\nIn the grey crossing  \nthat ring of yours rests\n\n(crying.)\n\nIn the grey dust  \nyour token lies\n\n(don t see me crying.)\n\nMy friend is gone.  \n(please. don t see my eyes.)\n\n[863] #920  \nPero G. de P.C.\n\nMy own daughter, heart is what I grieve  \nto see you so often in tears I griev  \nand thus I will ask what it is that rends\n\nthat you may tell me from yr sens  \nWhy do you go about so sad and crying?  \n _Mother I can t always be sing ing along._\n\nIt s not that I d see you allways in song  \nBut you cry so often and with great pain  \nThere is some lover you love with grand vow\n\nI ask you now if god wd allow  \nWhy do you go about so sad and crying?  \n _Mother I can t always be singing._\n\nSongs won t always be ringing.  \nSongs can t always be sung.\n\n[1067] #1134  \nPero de Veer\n\nWere it in my power to love such world  \nIn my honesty, and curve  \nof my ribs around such heart I have  \nor lung for breath, and alive  \nhere, wanting world as she  \nto be in me\n\nA creased grave-shroud is my foreboding  \nA careen or fall, and would you want me ever  \nworld, for it is world I feel such weight for  \nforlorn or moving forth, though such a world  \nbe questionable, warring, some  \nprivileges at odds with their own mastery\n\nand mastery of me  \nand yet kindness is ever all I dreamed of, from  \nyou world. Vast vagueries.  \nI love you still.\n\nPoisoned, delicate world. I love you still.\n\n## Book tWO\n\n_a vita NUOVa_\n\n_I went with my very being toward language._\n\nPaul Celan\n\n_\u00ab Nenhum facto hist\u00f3rico, sagrado ou profano, nem descri\u00e7\u00e3o geogr\u00e1fica, nem alus\u00e3o mitol\u00f3gica ali se encontra . . . \u00bb_\n\nDom Jo\u00e3o da Anunciada  \n _Hist. da Lit. po\u00e9tica portuguesa_\n\n## BefaLLeN  \nII\n\n_translu\u00e7ines from the Ajuda Codex by Calgarii Mourii_\n\n\"there is Lyric: there is no suture\"\n\nChus Pato\n\n\"This suture is a form of will\"\n\nLisa Robertson\n\n\"mais le sublime a lieu l\u00e0 o\u00f9 les oeuvres touchent.\"\n\nJean-Luc Nancy\n\n[B]y mine own eyes i saw her there  \nwith terror. and weighed grief and so lit  \ntle ple asure. that seeing s craved  \nby eyes and yet what good is it to  \nsee my lovely not at all. [&] not  \nmy right to lament thus without end  \nbut oh a day of woe when I with my eyes saw.  \nfor through them saw much so well  \nand the grief they made me suffr  \nand the great heartache cann ot be spoken.  \nand i will lament no longer here.  \nit s not my right to lament thus without end  \nand the lovely one these my eyes shew to me  \nout of so many women god willed to be  \nwell spoken and of fine appear  \nand why do i not die daring but to speak  \nit s not my right to lament thus without end\n\nCLXIII (161,2)\n\n[ _B]y mine own eyes i saw her there  \nwith terror. and weighed grief and so lit  \ntle ple asure. that seeing s craved  \nby eyes and yet what good is it when I  \nsee my lovely not at all. [&] not  \nmy right to lament thus without end  \nbut oh a sorry day when I with my eyes saw.  \nfor through them I saw so very well much  \nand the grief they made me suffer_\n\nd'abord la r\u00e9p\u00e9tition en soi, ainsi la r\u00e9p\u00e9tition au coeur de l'avenir, possibilit\u00e9 br\u00e8ve d'\u00e9mettre, cette forme l'alternative, \u00ab esp\u00e9rance \u00bb entre l'avenir et le pass\u00e9, ce que\n\n_and the grand heartache is not speakable.  \nand i will lament no longer here.  \nit s not my right to lament thus without end  \nand the lovely one these eyes showed me  \nof so many women god wished to create  \nwell spoken and of fine appear  \nand why do i die not daring to speak  \nit s not my right to lament thus without end_\n\nCLXIII (161,2)\n\n[L]ovely i lament with great. grief  \nfrom what i feel to see you. 7 great rights to  \ndo so. 7 you ll see me lament more  \ni when you appear. such hurt it does me.  \nand i lament my own eyes\n\nfor by them yo9 do mewell. 7 God  \nwith fear for i do not lament y9.  \nmy lovely. i don t lament even God.  \ni when you appear  \nam crushed by light but not nearly.  \ni when you appear  \ntis so much ache you make me have\n\nXC (123,1)\n\n_l'une de l'autre, distincte de toutes les autres, dit le r\u00e9cit, toujours \u00e0 m\u00eame la cendre, de son allure en un lieu s\u00fbr, une place irrempla\u00e7able, un palais ou une tr\u00e9sorerie, ne se distinguant plus entre elles, cette pression-ci et cette empreinte, la trace et le support, transfigur\u00e9, la hantait d\u00e8s l'origine_\n\n[T]he best woman i ever saw.  \nin faith of none better i did hear. is she that god  \nmade best appear. my lovely this the lov  \nliest of all i saw. of such high prais and  \nsuch good mind. in faith she is of all  \nbest i ve ever seen and never heard of better.  \n _A_ nd believe me that in truth she is  \nand will be the one. as ever she shall live  \nand any who will come to see and know her  \ni know well i can say that it is her.  \nStill more of her worth i will here sspeak  \nshe is well loved but no other there is  \nwho could love her as do i.  \nAnd such foul day i was born  \nFor i love her greatly  \nfor i crave her and see myself die  \nand see her not and such foul day i was born  \nbut beg to god to do as well to me as he to her  \nthat he would grant me aid  \nto see her soon where i from her did part.\n\nWith better heart. Toward me.\n\n_du m\u00eame auteur au d\u00e9but, marquant une ind\u00e9cision essentielle, priv\u00e9 et parfois \u00ab secr\u00e8t \u00bb, une inscription en forme, portrait d'amour, il n'importe pas moins que, comme certains d'entre vous, il s'agit_\n\nCXVIII (139,1)\n\nDom Fernam Gracia Esgaraungha\n\n[I] wander and my life is not mine. 7  \nmy death i desire to savour. to no  \nlonger suff such pain so great of love. that i sufr. al  \nways in my heart.\n\nthat soon such ache\n\nwill go from me. 7 friends i tell you some thing more  \nweighs mightily on me. that i won t see before me  \nmy light and my treasure.  \ni see my death retreat  \nand have great want of death s arrival.  \n7 my friends i tell you some thing more  \nit grieves me badly her i will not see.  \nE friends i tell you some thing more  \nit grieves me not to see her.\n\nXCI (123,2)\n\ndevenue le sujet spectral, de se voir donner raison, ait anticip\u00e9 la venue, autre effet d'archive, \u00e0 savoir, l'ouverture ombilicale du futur qui ind\u00e9termine, sans principe d'archivation, _nous_ sommes, ou non, peut donc, les mots \u00ab juif \u00bb et \u00ab sign\u00e9 \u00bb, sorte de longue pr\u00e9face, sans la forme\n\n_jd en \u00e9clats_\n\n[ _B_ ]y god my lovely in great ache  \ni ll be. now i do depart your sight  \nfor it s not in me to shut from my world  \nand my lovely i will do right by yo9 _E_  \nfrom yours my eyes depart. and  \nto yours so beautiful return not.  \n _A_ nd well you must believe this of me  \nthat my own death will be my master  \nfr the moment i you cannot see.  \nnor God my lovely wd let me live.  \n _A_ s f.y.m.e.d.a.t.y.s.b.r.n.  \n _B_ ut i know myself i make no sense.  \nto love yo9 from when first i you did see.  \nin such great ache i was my lovely from then.  \nbut what am i to do oh my light E my treasure.  \n _A_ s i from yo9 my eyes depart.  \n _E_ here god did make you best appear.  \namid so many others in the world who are.  \nto my own grief. 7 that of my heart.  \nhow will i find pleasure in the world. _A_ s I from . . .\n\nLXXII (114,1) [159] #185  \nNuno Fernandez Torneol\n\n[ _I_ ] d pray my lovely unto god  \nthat he wd do me well. but now from her such  \ngreat aversion i dare not speak to her a thing  \nof fear that i cause her to recoil frm me. 7 wish  \nno longer that i speak.  \n _I_ would tell her from my heart.  \nhow it makes me lose all mind.  \nher beauty so express but did not.  \ndare and all such that i had  \nFrom such fear that she recoil from me.  \n _B_ ut such event god gave me.  \nwho in great aching holds.  \nlove. always i will be hers  \nbut will not pray again.  \n _F_ rom such fear she recoil from me\n\nCXIII (136,1) [209] #226  \nJoan Nunez Camanez\n\nThus in such ache has me  \nheld love. for you  \nyou say my lovely. _T_ hat yo9 pain not  \nfor me. in such grave day i yo9 did see.  \nthat you pain not for me  \n _A_ nd thus in such ache it has me held  \nfor you oh my light and my treasure.  \n _T_ hat you pain not for me.  \n _O_ h ache of my oun heart  \nyou say to me may go9 forgive.  \n _T_ hat you pain not for me.  \n _O_ h light of these m9 eyes  \nyou tell menow by god  \n _T_ hat you pain not for me.\n\nCLXXXV (171,1) [1590]  \nRoy Paez de Ribela?\n\nMuch time gone by i have not seen  \nmy lovely. 7 so aching i was from  \nnot seeing her. that one thing i know so  \nwell ofme.that it gives me much pain  \nlove of her _T_ he greatest ache of all  \nthere is. i know i d lose if i saw her.  \n _B_ ut she has never done me well.  \nnor will she do as long i live  \nso great my craving to but see her.  \nthat would i see her i know one thing.  \n _T_ he greatest ache.o.a.t.i.  \n _A_ nd many round here think with reason  \nthat the worst ache of all to suffr  \nis that man see her and say naught to her.  \nbut still i dare not speak to her.  \n _T_ he greatest ache of all there is.\n\nCXC (175,1) [281] #341  \nRoy Paez de Ribela\n\nI will tell you of my vow my  \nlovely 7 later when i have from you de-  \nparted. i had for you my beauty my lovely  \nbut to die 7 i would have died but pining  \n _T_ hat never would i see you werei.dead  \n7 because of this i died not.  \nPining at how god gives you so much.  \nin appearance.7 in fine speech.  \ni wd die but for my own good.  \ni loved you 7 god makes me realize  \n _T_ hat never would i see you thus.  \nPining for the way you looked  \ni should have died if god wd pardon me.  \nand for your appearance so fine.  \ni wd die but awaken then.\n\nPining for you i should have died like this  \n7 pining for you my lovely i died not.\n\nCXLI (150,1) [246] #262  \nRoy Queymado\n\n_S_ o if i now were dead.iknow well  \nwhat my lovely wd say.\n\n_I_ ts just that Bill Alfonso.  \n _S_ o she wd know so well i had died.  \nfor her i know what she d say thus.  \n _I_ ts just that William R. Af-fonso.  \n[ _S_ ]o that if i wd die would call forth  \nbut her plaint and she wd say  \n _I_ ts only William So-and-So.\n\nCXLIII (150,2) [248] #264  \nRoy Queymado\n\n In this poem, \"snow\" can be read as \"asthma.\"\n\n[ _O_ ] god what ache to suffr. to have  \nthe great good of loving one to whom i  \ndare not speak. _O_ f the great hurt  \nthat i do bear. i do not dare to say a  \nthing. Of the great hurt that i do bear  \nEver in such ache i ll be and live.  \ni love that lady and can tell her all but.  \nof the thing i do not dare to speak.  \n _O_ f.t.g.h.t.i.d.b.i.d.n.d.t.s.a.t. _O_ f.t.g.  \nmy wish it is to tell her all  \nthat i should not increase my grief.  \nbut i do not dare to speak to her  \n _O_ f.t.g.h.t.i.d.b.i.d.n.d.t.s.a.t. _O_ f.t.g.h.t.i.d.b.\n\nLXVI (110,1)  \nAyras Carpancho\n\n[ _O_ ]f when i of my lovely one  \nfirst knew. that it burdened her that i did love her  \nso. but of my leaving i did not tell her. look  \nfriends it was as a man i left. foresook  \nher land so not to cause her burden. 7  \nleft to live where i cannot be alive.  \n _W_ ithout aching and i shall tell you more  \nfor i live in great pain of love  \nyet cause no burden to my lovely one  \nlook friends how well i did withdraw  \n _F_ oresook her land s.n.t.c.h.b.  \n _Y_ et aching in my heart  \nfor i withdrew so she d have no burden borne  \n7friends i knew not to withdraw  \nby other means but this  \n _F_ oresook her land so not t.c.h.b.\n\nCCXCIV (243,2)  \nVaasco Rodrigues de Caluelo\n\n## SNOWfaLL\n\n_eu quero seguir nos pasos  \ndo meu amor que se vaia_\n\ncantos de monzo\n\nHearth, rad, ing. Where the river'd risen.  \nCrusts of ice hang in the trees.\n\nHearth, rad, ing. In spring I won't stand  \nwhere I did in the autumn.\n\nHearth, rad, ing. Where the muskrat pull  \nweed and shell to the water's surface.\n\nHearth, rad, ing. Frozen surface hanging  \nin the trees!\n\nWhere I was and am not, but I am standing.\n\nDo you want a lesson from life? There is  \nnone to be found in the cantigas.\n\nPeorth, thorn, ur. There is none in the river.  \nIce pans cling frozen in the trees.\n\n_Cidade de Federico, January 2005_\n\nbitterly cold arctic air and brisk winds, extreme wind chill values this evening across new brunswick Whiteout conditions for the acadian peninsula in the morning Strong winds and newly fallen snow will give\n\nAfoot in last year's hay pressed flat by snow  \nWhen the deer come to drink, and all is frozen!\n\nThe river up yellow brims the snow at first  \nthen more snow falls, wearing silver.\n\nIts water frozen and wind up now  \nDid you read of a white deer _enoalto_?\n\nWhat am I drinking. In my narrow room, what  \nlight am I drinking? _Ilusi\u00f3n_ is not happiness here.\n\n(I gaze at her face in the photographs, to make it ordinary. and it  \nwill not.will not.\n\nIcefall. Earth sewn.  \nDeer light.  \nFace of snow.\n\n_._\n\npeut-on se satisfaire, la Science comme telle, s'interroger ici, qui ne veut parler aux fant\u00f4mes, ait anticip\u00e9 ce lieu, ce ad-venu, rendre compte ou\n\nI need snow and that cold which fires the lashes  \nshut. Cold, cold, chunked water\n\nroughening the river and me, eyeless and full of java  \nAnd her nonchalant over the seas.\n\nThis very river flows to the sea in just 80 miles.  \nShe's nonchalant across those seas.\n\nCold, the cold of chunked ice ripping air's  \nsmooth wind.\n\nShe's in a dale of her own verdant storm  \nI'm in a winter where my coat's be warm.\n\nFor the loll of her skirts! Or a deer, a  \nwhite deer, small as  \nsnow, on the river, drinking.\n\nce morceau qui r\u00e9siste \u00e0 l'explication, le spectre de la verit\u00e9, tout grain de v\u00e9rit\u00e9 contient tout d\u00e9lire, en d\u00e9chiffrant l'archive, c'est que, repr\u00e9sentant son\n\nThe blow whites out the peninsula, the river.  \nTrees mere threads blind cannot sew.\n\nAgainst the skin all cloth's heat sodden. Holding  \na candle to her is like holding snow!\n\nA ski sews my trail on white land-fallen  \nStitch a stitch saves nothing saves not nine.\n\nIt takes a blizzard to make wise wander  \nIt takes fierce snow to drive bone blind.\n\nWill's not the res, our tremour surges  \nLove's not abide, we're blind in snow.\n\nThat track lies west in a seam of daylight.  \nThe river's caudal, where did it go?\n\nre\u00e7oit ici, la domiciliation aussit\u00f4t, va de soi manquant tout discours, dans son support m\u00eame, l'histoire de la stabilit\u00e9 s\u00e9mantique, exquis\u00e9ment tourment\u00e9e\n\nI'm gone to the river where the muskrat come.  \nto sing to her. snow's dawn white on the waters.\n\nI'm gone where the muskrat dive deep.  \nto sing of her. snow's crystal white on the river.\n\nI'm going where the dawn of the river  \nsings white and deep. snow's pentagon crystallizing  \nwater.\n\nWhere the lie of water's dark in snow I'll go  \nwhere snow hasn't sealed the moment of the river.\n\nGo white and sing.  \nRiver.  \nLine of water. Dawn.\n\npeut-\u00eatre, apr\u00e8s toute domiciliation, les plus d\u00e9cisives de ses conclusions suspendues, possiblement _absurde_ , il se peut fort bien, et plus encore, puisque cette fois la femme serait la loi elle-m\u00eame, plut\u00f4t que dans l'avenir, au courage de dire _peut-\u00eatre_\n\nbetween needs  \nbreath's space\n\n(asthma's question)\n\n(morar nunha terra de neve\n\nque non podo deixar)\n\n(I yet live in that land of snow)\n\n________\n\n_Que non co\u00f1eza outra xustiza  \nque o perd\u00f3n nin m\u00e1is lei que amor._\n\n_n'en rendre raison_\n\n_in lieu of postface_\n\n_O cadoiro_ is, literally, _the place where falling is made._ In Galician, _cadoiro_ is one word for waterfall. _Cataract_ , perhaps. Thus, _the fall_. This to me is the place of poetry, for whoever writes poetry must be prepared, ever, to fall down.\n\n---\n\nMy crux or crossing: to lean into time's fissure to play with and resorb the language of lyric from a time when the poetry of Western Europe first broke free from ecclesiastical modes of praise and epic modes of heroic glory. The poems of the medieval Iberian songbooks, written in Galician-Portuguese, set aside God and history to turn toward . . . _another human_. Lyric was the fulcrum of this turn, and Galician its human language, for it was never ecclesiastical and never the language of history, but the idiom of emigration and of place's longing, of the beloved, of the bereft. In these poems, Dante's salvation narrative was not yet operative.\n\nThey are fount for my own inventions and coalects, which are but small plaints, rustlings, a _ruxarruxe_ , an _altermundismo_ or \"otherworld-wantingness\" where habitation is possible but tenuous, for though poems recuperate, they do not solve.\n\n___________________________________  \nthe postface of _O Cadoiro_ is available online in pdf format at  \nwww.anansi.ca\/ocadoiro\/postface\n**Le ItURa, ComeNt\u00e1RIOS e  LOSS\u00e1RIO PRa UNHa L\u00cdRICa PROfaNa**\n\n_\u00ab . . . cette g\u00e9n\u00e9reuse retenue ne serait pas autre chose que l'exercice de la pens\u00e9e elle-m\u00eame. \u00bb  \nJean-Luc Nancy \"l'amour en \u00e9clats\"_\n\n**Agradecementos**\n\n\u00c1s mi\u00f1as amigas tan queridas e aos meus amigos, tam\u00e9n, in Canada, the USA,  \nPortugal, England and Galicia  \nBen Lerner, who commissioned the colour translu\u00e7ines for NO  \nThe Canada Council for a bourse de cr\u00e9ation in 2003\u20134  \nJos\u00e9 Blanco for support of the Calouste Gulbenkian Foundation in Lisbon,  \nJanuary to March 2004  \nUNB, Fredericton, for residency in 2004\u20135  \nOana Avasilichioaei for her irreplaceable axudas e axitaci\u00f3ns, and for bringing  \nme back to poetry's place of falling when i had fallen silent  \nKen Babstock for thoughtful help at the sticking points  \nLisa Robertson for her editorial acumen and eye that repeatedly opened mine  \nLiz Kirby for her support in the writing  \nChus Pato for her constant challenges to the what and how of work in words\n\n_Matrix, Le Quartanier_ (Qu\u00e9bec); _The Walrus, Arc, The Capilano Review, Things Portuguese_ (Canada); _NO: A Journal of the Arts, Boundary 2, 1913: A Journal of Forms_ (USA); _p'rosas fronteras_ (Chile); _Jacket_ (Australia); _Shearsman Magazine_ (UK). A sequence from \"Befallen\" first appeared as a chapbook (NYC: belladonna, 2005). One of the illuminated poems from \"Befallen II\" was part of the exhibition \"Lesbian.mbox\" (Toronto, 2005, curator Cheryl Sourkes). The piece \"L\u00b4YRIC POET\u00b4RY\" is indebted to footnotes in H. Carter's 1941 diplomatic edition of the Ajuda Codex, and first appeared in French (tr. Calgarii Mourii), in _Baiser vertige_ (Montr\u00e9al: H\u00e9xagone, 2006, ed. Nicole Brossard).\n\nALSO BY ER\u00cdN MOURE\n\n**Poetry**\n\n_Empire, York Street_ (Anansi, 1979)  \n _The Whisky Vigil_ (Harbour, 1981, chapbook with drawings)  \n _Wanted Alive_ (Anansi, 1983)  \n _Domestic Fuel_ (Anansi, 1985)  \n _Furious_ (Anansi, 1988, 1992)  \n _WSW_ (V\u00e9hicule, 1989)  \n _Sheepish Beauty, Civilian Love_ (V\u00e9hicule, 1992)  \n _The Green Word: Selected Poems_ _1973_ _\u2013_ _1992_ (Oxford University Press, 1994)  \n _Search Procedures_ (Anansi, 1996)  \n _The Frame of a Book_ (or _A Frame of the Book_ )  \n(Anansi, 1999, Sun & Moon, Los Angeles, 1999)  \n _Pillage Laud_ (Moveable Type Books, 1999)  \n _O Cidad\u00e1n_ (Anansi, 2002)  \n _Little Theatres_ (Anansi, 2005)\n\n**Translations**\n\n_Installations_ (Muses' Company, 2000) from French, with Robert Majzels,  \nof Nicole Brossard's _Installations_ (\u00c9crits des Forges, 1989)\n\n_Sheep's Vigil by a Fervent Person_ (Anansi, 2001, as Eirin Moure) from Portuguese,  \nof Alberto Caeiro\/Fernando Pessoa's _O Guardador de Rebanhos_\n\n_Quasi Flanders, Quasi Extremadura_ (CCCP, Cambridge, UK, 2001, chapbook)  \nfrom Spanish, of a selection from Andr\u00e9s Ajens' _M\u00e1s \u00edntimas mistura_  \n(Intemperie, Santiago de Chile, 1998)\n\n_\u00c0 Adan: po\u00e8mes d'Emma M._ (housepress, 2002) from Kat into French,  \nof the unpublished work of Emma M.\n\n_Museum of Bone and Water_ (Anansi, 2003) from French, with Robert Majzels,  \nof Nicole Brossard's _Mus\u00e9e de l'os et de l'eau_ (Noro\u00cet, 1999)\n\n_from m-Tal\u00e1_ (Nomados, 2003, chapbook) from Galician,  \nof part of Chus Pato's _m-Tal\u00e1_ (Xerais, Vigo, 2000)\n","meta":{"redpajama_set_name":"RedPajamaBook"}}
+{"text":"\n\nTable of Contents\n\nTitle Page  \nACKNOWLEDGMENTS\n\nEPILOGUE  \nAUTHOR'S NOTE  \nAlso by Carola Dunn  \nCopyright Page\n\nTo all the readers in Eugene who have asked me over the years, \"When are you going to set a book here?\"\nACKNOWLEDGMENTS\n\nMy thanks to Sue Stone, Keith Kahla, and Teresa Theophano for their help with New York research; and to Mr. Stanley Bard and his staff for his willingness to answer questions about the Hotel Chelsea. All errors, omissions, additions, and alterations for artistic purposes are strictly my own.\n\nVoices raised in anger: in the quiet when the clacking of the typewriter keys ceased, as Daisy reached the bottom of a page, the muffled sound came through the wall from the room next door.\n\nIt was not the first time. Apparently her neighbour was not of a conciliatory nature. This time there were two men and a woman, Daisy was pretty sure, but try as she might, she could not make out the words. None of her business, she told herself firmly, and turned her attention back to her work.\n\nSquealing, the Remington reluctantly released the two sheets of paper and the carbon between. Daisy used them to fan herself. Not yet accustomed to the indoor temperature preferred by New Yorkers, and bred as she was to an age-old tradition of roaring fires tempered by icy draughts, she found the hotel room stifling. Her battle with the balky radiator had been less successful than that with the typewriter provided by the management.\n\nShe looked longingly at the French windows, surrounded by elaborate rosewood carvings, then scowled at the typewriter. The Hotel Chelsea was a noted haven for writers and catered to their needs, but the Remington was on its last legs. Daisy suspected it had stood on this very desk for forty years, ever since the place was built in 1883, pounded daily by fingers expert and inexpert. It creaked and groaned at every touch and strongly objected to demands for capital letters. The prospect of resuming her battle with the beastly machine made her feel hotter than ever.\n\nBeside the typewriter, the piles of paper were growing. Mr. Thorwald had requested few changes in her article about the transatlantic voyage. It was all typed, ready to be delivered tomorrow. The article on her first impressions of America was coming along nicely. She had time to spare.\n\nStepping out onto the balcony, she shivered in the biting chill of a wintry breeze. The yellow-grey sky threatened rain, or even snow, though it was not quite November yet. Petrol\u2014gasoline\u2014fumes drifted up from West Twenty-third Street, mingled with dust, but the tang of sooty coal-smoke was not as predominent as in faraway London.\n\nDaisy leant on the flowery wrought-iron rail to watch a tram rattle and clang past seven stories below. Not a tram, a streetcar. She wondered why Americans insisted that they spoke English, when they might just as well call their language American. The oddest thing was that people kept telling her, an Englishwoman speaking the King's English, that she had a quaint accent!\n\nAn unmistakably American voice interrupted Daisy's musing. The window of the next room was open a few inches. The woman whom Daisy had heard indistinctly before was now clear as a bell\u2014no mellow church bell, no tinkling harness bell, but the shrillest of shrill electric bells.\n\n\"You bastard!\" she cried venomously. \"I wouldn't come back to you for a million dollars.\"\n\n\"If I had a million dollars,\" retorted a biting male voice, more sarcastic than irate, \"you still wouldn't squeeze one red cent out of me.\"\n\nA different man said something indistinguishable in a soothing, rather nervous tone. A moment later a door slammed.\n\nGuiltily aware that curiosity as much as overheating had driven her outside, Daisy ducked back into her room. She hoped she had not been spotted eavesdropping on the balcony. Rather than sit there awaiting an indignant knock on her door, she decided to go in search of a cup of tea.\n\nIt was, after all, past four o'clock. Prohibition had led some Americans to rethink the Boston Tea Party and agree that the British custom of afternoon tea was worth adopting. True, other Americans appeared to obtain alcoholic drinks without the least difficulty. Despite its bohemian clientele, however, the Chelsea was a respectable hostelry, not to be compared to a speakeasy. With any luck, a pot of tea and perhaps even a few biscuits\u2014cookies\u2014might be available below.\n\nWhy on earth speakeasy? Daisy wondered, making for the lifts. No one she had asked had the foggiest.\n\nAs she approached the nearer lift, the outer gate of the farther one clanked shut. She hurried, but when she arrived, the inner gate had also closed and the lift was already moving down the shaft with a rattle and whine of aged machinery. It left behind a whiff of mingled bay rum, expensive cigars, and still more expensive perfume. Daisy caught a glimpse of the top of the lift boy's livery cap, and beyond him a man's head, thin on top, and a scarlet cloche hat with a spray of white egret feathers.\n\n\"Missed it!\" she exclaimed. \"Blast!\" On the other hand, if that was the couple who had been quarrelling in the room next door to hers, she was quite glad not to be boxed in with them.\n\nShe walked back to the other lift and pushed the button to summon it.\n\nA young chambermaid popped out of a linen room just down the passage, her arms full of towels. \"'Tis a long wait ye'll be having of it, I'm thinkin', miss,\" she remarked in an Irish brogue thick enough to spread on soda-bread. Her carroty hair and freckled face reminded Daisy of her stepdaughter, Belinda. A pang of homesickness struck, unexpectedly strong.\n\nShe smiled at the girl, who was probably just as homesick, with far more reason. \"Is this one out of order?\" she asked.\n\n\"The elevator boy's a bold young limb o' Satan, ma'am. This time o' day he'll likely be off creating 'stead o' minding his duties.\"\n\n\"I dare say this is a slack time and it must be frightfully boring going up and down in a cage all day.\"\n\nThe girl beamed at her. \"'Tis me little brother, ma'am. He's been on since six this morning. Sure, 'tis hard on a lively lad, but he's his bread to earn and lucky to have a job.\"\n\n\"I shan't tell tales,\" Daisy promised. \"I'm in no hurry. I suppose I could always take the stairs, at that.\"\n\n\"Oh no, ma'am, 'tis a desp'rate long way down. The other elevator'll be back in a minute, if our Kevin don't come.\"\n\nIn fact, the groan and clatter of cables and ratchets announced the imminent arrival of the maligned Kevin. Daisy had only to wait while his lift made its laborious way aloft, but during that interval a man came along the passage to join her.\n\nAt the sight of him, the chambermaid turned pink and ducked hurriedly back into her linen room.\n\nHe didn't look at all bohemian\u2014in his forties at a guess, dressed in a medium grey tweed suit, with a black homburg and tan leather gloves in one hand, an attach\u00e9 case in the other. Stocky, slightly bowlegged, he walked with a swagger. His jaw had an aggressive thrust, and his nose was long and inquisitive above a narrow moustache. His glance at Daisy was bold, impertinent even, with a sort of cynical dismissiveness which at once raised her hackles.\n\nAt the same time, she wondered if he was the man next door, if he had seen her on the balcony, and whether she was blushing like the Irish girl. She hoped not. She despised blushing as too, too Victorian. She gave him a haughty, withering look worthy of her mother, the Dowager Viscountess Dalrymple, but the bounder had already turned away.\n\nHe punched the call button, quite unnecessarily as the cage's rackety approach was obvious. Impatiently he opened the gate onto the empty shaft, where loops of cable performed their mysterious trigonometrical functions. Unless it was calculus Daisy was thinking of\u2014her girls' school had not plumbed such mathematical depths, but she remembered looking over Gervaise's shoulder while he groaned over holiday cramming.\n\nAll that cramming for nothing, she thought mournfully. Her brother had gone off to the War instead of to university, and all his maths had not saved him from death in the Flanders trenches.\n\nMaths would not save her impatient fellow-resident, either, if he plumbed the depths of the lift shaft, as he seemed in imminent danger of doing. However, he pulled his head back safely. The lift arrived, piloted by a youth of fourteen or so, whose carroty hair and freckles proclaimed him to be Kevin, while his watering eyes and scarlet ear suggested misconduct chastised.\n\nNonetheless, he gave Daisy a cocky, snaggletoothed grin and enquired, \"Going down, ma'am?\"\n\nPerhaps his words recalled the impatient man to a sense of common courtesy. He was already stepping forward, but he drew back and, with an ironical half bow, allowed Daisy to go first.\n\n\"Where can I get a pot of tea?\" she asked the boy as the lift started down.\n\n\"In the lobby, m'lady.\" He tipped his cap, the gesture of respect cheekily exaggerated. His native Irish was overlaid with nasal New York. \"Stanley\u2014that's the bellhop, m'lady\u2014'll take your order to the dining room and a waiter'll deliver, m'lady.\"\n\nHis cheek was good-natured. Daisy laughed. \"I'm English,\" she admitted, \"but not 'my lady.'\"\n\n\"We can't all be bishops,\" he commiserated. \"It's the real tay you want? You tell Stanley Kevin said to tell 'em make it good and strong, not the dishwater the yankees call tay.\"\n\nThe man behind Daisy snorted. From the corner of her eye, she saw him take a flask from his pocket, uncap it, and swallow a hefty pull. She assumed it was neither tea nor dishwater he had swigged, as his face turned an unbecoming purple.\n\nNot that she was looking. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction. \"I'll remember your advice,\" she said to Kevin with a smile.\n\nHe winked. \"I can get you the other stuff, too,\" he whispered. \"Not moonshine, gen-u-wine Irish whisky straight from the Emerald Isle.\"\n\n\"No, thank you.\"\n\n\"It's safe enough. All the right people been paid off.\"\n\n\"Paid off?\" The man was suddenly sticking his long nose between Daisy and Kevin.\n\nThe lift boy gave him a wide-eyed, would-be innocent stare. \"Musta misheard, mister. I was tellin' the lady how me brother was laid off. Worked down on the waterfront, he did.\"\n\nIt was obvious the man did not believe him. Daisy thought he might have pressed the issue if she had not been there. She did her best to look thoroughly respectable, and they reached the bottom with no further exchange. He strode off without a backward glance.\n\nStepping out, Daisy passed the untenanted reception desk and went on through to the lobby. The floor was patterned in white, grey, black, and dried-blood-coloured marble, and grey marble lined the walls to waist height. In every corner potted palms lurked unhappily, as de rigueur here as in London. In this unlikely oasis, a fire flickered beneath a dark, ornately carved mantlepiece. Against the wall on either side stood a stiff, uninviting bench of the same dark carved wood, with red and ivory striped upholstery.\n\nThe stripes reappeared on two armchairs and a small sofa arranged in front of the fireplace around a low glasstopped table. Matching stripes adorned the seats of the rather spindly wrought-iron chairs set out around several small, equally spindly tables. Two of these pushed together were surrounded by a group of earnest-looking women and rather long-haired men. Their clothes tended toward the flamboyant, the men with floppy, kaleidoscopic cravats in place of neckties, several of the women wearing corduroy trousers. Daisy felt positively staid in her powder blue costume.\n\nShe had seen virtually identical gatherings in Chelsea\u2014the London suburb, not the hotel\u2014where she had lived before she married. They were discussing either the future course of serious literature or the malevolence of editors.\n\nIn Chelsea, such a group would have scorned afternoon tea as too bourgeois for words (their preferred drinks were beer or cheap sherry, depending on their pretensions), but here they all held teacups. In fact Daisy saw teapots on the tables, all occupied, on both sides of the lobby.\n\nOne young man sat on his own, on one of the stiff benches against the wall. His teapot was perched on a side table, at an awkward height and distance, his cup and saucer balanced equally awkwardly in one hand, as if he wasn't quite sure what to do with them. He was soberly dressed in a dark, businesslike suit, his fair hair cropped short above studious horn-rimmed spectacles. Three or four years younger than Daisy's twenty-six, he appeared to be deliberately avoiding her eye.\n\nOf course she would not have joined him even if invited, but she did wish she had someone to sit with.\n\nShe was a modern independent woman, she reminded herself. For years now she had looked after herself, having concluded that absolutely anything was preferable to living with her mother in the Dower House, after her father died in the '19 influenza pandemic. Just because she was married now, had been married for a whole month, and her darling Alec was hundreds of miles away, it didn't mean she could no longer take care of herself.\n\nThe only free place was the other bench, but as she resigned herself to it, a couple stood up to leave a table on the other side of the lobby, by the door to the little-used Ladies' Sitting Room. Daisy was moving to take possession when a short, plump woman with untidy grey hair bustled up to her.\n\n\"Oh dear,\" she said, \"I do hope you don't mind?\" She looked up appealingly at Daisy over half-spectacles.\n\n\"Mind?\" Daisy asked, bewildered.\n\nThe little lady waved the knitting she was carrying, a beautifully patterned baby's jacket in pale yellow and white. The yellow and white yarn trailed behind her, Daisy noticed, back to the low table by the fire, on the far side of the lobby, where she had left her knitting bag.\n\n\"It's my sister,\" she confided. \"Oh dear, so awkward, but she does like to know.\"\n\n\"Know what?\" Daisy asked cautiously.\n\n\"Oh dear, I'm muddling it as usual. My sister, Genevieve, insists on meeting everyone who comes to stay at the hotel. Do say you will?\"\n\nShe looked a little reproachful when Daisy laughed, but brightened when Daisy said, \"I'd be glad to. May I know your name?\"\n\n\"Oh dear, I ought to have introduced myself first thing! I am Miss Cabot, Ernestine Cabot\u2014Boston, you know\u2014only a very junior branch.\"\n\nWhy this obscure announcement should make Daisy think of fish she had no leisure to contemplate. Miss Cabot turned about, tangling her feet in her own yarn. She would have come to grief had not Kevin, playing truant from his lift, dashed over to prop her up.\n\n\"Happens reg'lar, once a week, like clockwork,\" he murmured to Daisy.\n\nThough no one else seemed to notice the minor imbroglio, the solitary young man must have been watching, for he also hurried to help. He stooped to unwind the wool, but Miss Cabot turned skittish.\n\n\"Oh dear... no, please... so kind, Mr. er-hm...\"\n\n\"Lambert.\"\n\n\"Mr... . I'm afraid... rather indelicate...\"\n\nDaisy gathered that female assistance would be appreciated. She disentangled the black lisle stocking-clad ankles while Miss Cabot twittered a series of oh dears above her.\n\nMr. Lambert offered a hand to help Daisy up, with an oddly assessing look as though he were comparing her face with some inner ideal. Wondering whether she passed muster, Daisy thanked him with a nod and a smile.\n\n\"You're welcome, ma'am.\" The words arrived with a whiff of Irish whiskey. Kevin's business was apparently a going concern, and not all teapots contained tea.\n\nDaisy collected the yarn where it hung down from Miss Cabot's needles, intending to gather up the excess as she accompanied the old lady to meet her sister. The length of yarn rose a foot or two from the floor just as the impatient man from the lift strode past in his purposeful way. It caught him across the shins.\n\nHe barged on, oblivious. The knitting flew from Miss Cabot's grasp and the knitting bag attached to the far end of the yarn flopped to the floor.\n\nLambert caught the man's sleeve. \"Say, look here, wait a minute!\"\n\n\"You know something about it?\" He turned eagerly. Daisy could have sworn his long nose twitched. \"You're willing to talk?\"\n\nHis face bemused, Lambert blinked. \"Talk? I can't see there's anything to talk about, buddy, except you might watch where you're going.\"\n\n\"Watch... ?\" It was his turn to look blank; then he followed Lambert's gesture to the yellow and white strands adorning his legs. Turning to Miss Cabot, he said sarcastically, \"Ah, Madame Defarge strikes again.\" His glance moved on to Daisy. \"Another victim for Madame Guillotine, I see.\"\n\nHis French pronunciation was rotten, Daisy noted, even as she wondered if the hackneyed reference to Dickens had any significance beyond its evident malice.\n\nMiss Cabot bridled. \"I'm sure I don't know what you can mean.\"\n\n\"I don't suppose you do.\" In an effort to disembarrass himself of the yarn, he stepped backwards. The wool clung to his tweeds. He bent down and snapped both strands. \"Beware of entanglements with women, sonny,\" he advised Lambert. \"The only way out is a clean break.\" And he strode on.\n\nLambert picked up the knitting, which had miraculously stayed on the needles. \"Sorry, ma'am,\" he said sheepishly, handing it to Miss Cabot. \"Gee whiz, I guess there's not much you can do about a guy like that.\"\n\n\"Oh dear, I'm afraid manners are not what they were,\" agreed Miss Cabot.\n\nStooping again, Lambert retrieved the two loose ends of yarn. Since he obviously had not the least notion what to do with them, Daisy relieved him of them and proceeded at Miss Cabot's side, winding up the wool as they went.\n\nLambert moved ahead to pick up the knitting bag and replace it on the table. Any disposition to linger was firmly quashed by Miss Genevieve Cabot.\n\n\"Thank you, young man,\" she said with a nod of unmistakable dismissal, and as he turned away, a trifle disconsolate, she added, \"Not an interesting person.\"\n\nMr. Lambert's ears reddened.\n\n\"Guillotined,\" thought Daisy, hoping she was not to meet the same fate.\n\nThe armchair occupied by Miss Genevieve Cabot commanded a view of both the main entrance and the inner lobby leading to the lifts. Commanded was the appropriate word. Stout where Miss Cabot was softly plump, Miss Genevieve had a decisive air utterly at odds with her elder sister's dithers. At Daisy's approach, she remained seated, but she bowed and indicated the cane leaning against her chair as her excuse for not rising. Reason, perhaps, rather than excuse: she didn't look as if she was accustomed to make her excuses to anyone. Though her face had an invalidish pallor, there was nothing invalidish about her tone.\n\n\"Well, sister?\"\n\n\"Oh dear, sister, I'm afraid I quite forgot to ask the young lady's name!\"\n\n\"Mrs. Fletcher,\" said Daisy, taking a seat on the sofa without waiting to be invited. She had been summoned, after all. \"How do you do.\"\n\n\"British,\" observed Miss Genevieve, not with unalloyed approval.\n\nBefore Daisy could respond, a small boy in hotel livery scurried up to them\u2014Stanley, the bellhop, familiarly known in England as a \"buttons.\" Miss Genevieve ordered fresh tea, and more sandwiches, cookies, and cake. Whatever her opinion of the British, she did not let it abate her enthusiasm for a proper afternoon tea, Daisy was happy to see.\n\nWhile Stanley took Miss Genevieve's order, Daisy studied her hostesses. They both wore knit frocks with tatted collars and cuffs, beautifully made (by Miss Cabot?) but unflattering to their portly figures. Miss Cabot's dress was rose pink, Miss Genevieve's navy blue. Miss Cabot's hair, drawn back into a bun, escaped vigorously in all directions from its pins and nets. Miss Genevieve's, equally grey, was trimmed in a short, severe bob.\n\nDaisy wondered whether they were chance residents or had some connection with literature or the arts. Then she caught sight of a ruled notebook in Miss Genevieve's ample lap, with a pencil tucked into the spiral binding. The top page was half filled with what appeared to be shorthand.\n\n\"You are a writer, Miss Genevieve?\" Daisy enquired.\n\n\"Why, yes!\" The old lady's surprise, and evident displeasure, suggested that she was more accustomed to interrogating than to being interrogated.\n\nDaisy pressed her advantage. \"May one ask what you write?\"\n\nMiss Genevieve frowned, but Miss Cabot put in eagerly, \"Such nice knitting columns. For the women's magazines, you know. I expect you have them in England, too? I invent new patterns and Genevieve writes them down. Then she adds a bit of friendly chat, you know the sort of thing, I'm sure, so clever, I could never do it.\"\n\n\"Tripe!\" said Miss Genevieve.\n\n\"Oh dear! The patterns are really quite nice, sister. We do get such a lot of letters, such nice letters, from all over the country. But I'm afraid Genevieve doesn't consider it real writing,\" she confided to Daisy. \"Even the gossip columns are preferable.\"\n\n\"Gossip columns?\" Daisy could not quite see the sisters mingling with the sort of high society which provides grist for the gossip columnist's mill.\n\n\"Literary gossip,\" Miss Genevieve growled grudgingly.\n\n\"For Writers' World,\" explained Miss Cabot.\n\n\"This is the perfect place to collect information,\" Daisy said.\n\n\"Many writers visiting New York do stay at the Hotel Chelsea. I manage to speak to most. I find most writers are eager to talk about themselves, even that obnoxious specimen who marched through Ernestine's knitting.\"\n\n\"Oh dear, no serious damage, no stitches dropped, and I can sew the ends in so that they won't show, sister.\"\n\n\"I dare say.\"\n\n\"Who is he?\" asked Daisy, who considered \"obnoxious specimen\" an excellent description.\n\n\"His name is Otis Carmody and he is a muckraking reporter. A necessary breed, no doubt, with a necessary brashness, but I'd have thought a more conciliating manner might serve him better.\"\n\n\"I dare say he moderates his manner when necessary.\"\n\n\"Possibly. I do write about more literary figures, too.\" Miss Genevieve sounded defensive. \"I drop in at the Algonquin when I can, but I don't get about much these days and anyhow, Franklin Adams writes about the Round Table crowd in the World. Besides, Dorothy Parker and Benchley and friends are poseurs, witty, perhaps, but not half as clever as they like to think. Not one of them could tackle the job I used to do.\"\n\nDaisy judged that a question about the Algonquin and the Round Table crowd would not be well received. \"What job was that?\" she asked.\n\n\"I was a crime reporter.\" Miss Genevieve warmed to Daisy's interest\u2014or succumbed to what Alec persisted in describing as her \"guileless blue eyes.\" \"The first woman crime reporter in New York, and the only one yet, as far as I know. Eugene Cannon was my byline. Of course, in those days there was no question of using my own name. They wouldn't even let me use a female name, as Lizzie Seaman did a bit later.\"\n\n\"Lizzie Seaman?\"\n\n\"Nellie Bly, she called herself. Now, there was a girl with a talent for self-advertisement. Around the world in eighty days, my foot! Not that I wanted the limelight, mind you. All I asked was the opportunity to do a good job of work.\"\n\nMiss Cabot sighed, her needles continuing to click busily. \"At least you succeeded in escaping from home, sister.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Miss Genevieve, her tone grim, \"but the life would not have suited you, sister.\"\n\nAt that moment a waiter arrived. As he unloaded his tray and reloaded with the Cabots' empty teapot and becrum-bed plates, Daisy glanced around and caught Mr. Lambert watching her. He immediately averted his gaze. There was something odd about that young man, she decided.\n\nThe interruption gave Miss Genevieve the chance to turn the conversation from herself. \"And you, Mrs. Fletcher,\" she said as her sister poured tea, \"your husband is a writer?\"\n\nSurprised that \"Eugene Cannon\" should regard her as a mere adjunct of her husband, Daisy said, \"No, a policeman.\" She regretted the words as soon as uttered. A month had sufficed to teach her that almost as many people looked askance at a policeman's wife as at the policeman himself.\n\nHowever, Miss Genevieve was all agog. \"An English policeman? I have never met one, but I've heard they are very different from our New York 'bulls.' He is here with you?\"\n\n\"He's in Washington, advising a department of your government.\"\n\n\"Aha, a man of importance, then. Not... not by any chance Scotland Yard?\"\n\n\"Yes, actually, he's a Detective Chief Inspector at the Yard.\" Daisy decided it was her turn. \"I'm a writer.\"\n\nMiss Genevieve had the grace to look a little abashed. She picked up her notepad with a show of attentiveness. \"What do you write, Mrs. Fletcher?\"\n\n\"Magazine articles. I've written several for an American magazine called Abroad.\"\n\n\"I always read Abroad,\" said Miss Cabot eagerly. \"It is the next best thing to travelling. I should have liked to travel, but Papa...\"\n\n\"I do not recall a Fletcher among the contributors,\" Miss Genevieve interrupted with a frown.\n\n\"I use my maiden name, Dalrymple.\"\n\n\"Oh!\" Miss Cabot dropped her knitting\u2014fortunately she was not holding a teacup\u2014to clasp her hands. \"Oh, my dear, not the Honourable Daisy Dalrymple?\"\n\nLess easily impressed by an honorary title, Miss Genevieve was nonetheless moderately flattering about Daisy's articles on the museums of London, two of which had already appeared. She wanted to know what had brought Daisy to New York. Daisy explained that her editor had paid her fare to America so that she could write about the voyage.\n\nMiss Genevieve took copious notes in her neat shorthand. \"What are your plans now that you are here?\" she asked.\n\n\"Mr. Thorwald wants my first impressions of America. We stayed with friends in Connecticut for a few days, and now I have a couple of days here.\"\n\nThat led to a discussion of what she had seen in New York, what she planned to see, and what the Misses Cabot thought she ought to see.\n\n\"Will Detective Chief Inspector Fletcher join you here?\" asked Miss Genevieve at last, almost shyly. \"I should greatly like to meet him.\"\n\nDaisy shook her head. \"No, I'm afraid not. I'm going to see Mr. Thorwald tomorrow, and the next day I shall take the train to Washington.\"\n\n\"Perhaps it is just as well,\" sighed Miss Genevieve. \"I guess British cops don't like crime reporters any better than ours do. Sister, pass Mrs. Fletcher the fruitcake.\"\n\nThe leaden fruitcake was all that was left of the spread. Daisy declined a slice, hoping she had not been unheedingly responsible for the disappearance of too large a proportion of the rest. The no bosom, no bottom figure, emphasized by the hip-level \"waist,\" was as fashionable here as at home. Though it was not a look Daisy would ever attain, she did not want to find herself with the silhouette of a blimp.\n\n\"Thank you so much for my tea,\" she said. \"I've enjoyed talking to you. I think I'll go for a bit of a walk now, before it gets dark.\"\n\n\"Yes, better get back before dark,\" said Miss Genevieve. \"It's Halloween. There will be all sorts of mischief tonight.\"\n\n\"I'll just go and look at the General Post Office and Pennsylvania Station, as you suggested.\"\n\nThis she did. The station was modelled on the Baths of Caracalla, she had been told, though she had not been told precisely what the Baths of Caracalla were. They sounded vaguely Roman. The station was certainly impressive, more so than the post office building on the other side of Eighth Avenue, though both boasted vast numbers of classical pillars. Daisy made a dutiful circuit of the post office to read the motto carved on the architrave: Neither snow, nor rain, nor heat, nor gloom of night stays these couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds.\n\nThen she strolled back by a roundabout route towards the hotel. On Twenty-eighth Street she came across a small park. Most of the trees were leafless, but it was still refreshing after the dusty streets. Children were playing there in the twilight, and she lingered to watch. Though the voices were American, the games seemed much the same as in England\u2014hopscotch, marbles, and tag.\n\nThe tag players swirled around her. As she turned to watch, she caught a glimpse of a man dodging behind a tree, as if he were trying not to be spotted.\n\nHe looked remarkably like young Mr. Lambert, but she must be mistaken. Why on earth should Lambert follow her?\n\nNext morning she set off for her appointment. The offices of Abroad magazine and several associated publications were in the Flatiron Building. On her first visit, Daisy had been too anxious to appreciate the merits of the unusual structure.\n\nThis morning she had a few minutes to spare. She strolled through Madison Square Park, noting the ashes of a Halloween bonfire and the corpses of firecrackers. Pausing on the corner of Twenty-third Street and Fifth Avenue, she gazed across at her destination. The Fuller Building, as it was originally named, had been designed to fit on an awkward triangular plot where Broadway crossed the other two streets. To Daisy, its shape made it look less like a flatiron than the prow of a great ship forging its way north across Manhattan.\n\nThe chilly wind whistling around it increased the resemblance. As she crossed the wide, busy intersection beneath the gaze of a harried policeman on point duty, Daisy, along with many another passer-by, held onto her hat.\n\nWalking south towards the entrance, she gazed up at the ornate stone and terra cotta details of the fa\u00e7ade. And up and up. She had thought she was accustomed to New York's \"skyscrapers,\" but now she felt quite dizzy. The building seemed to sway, then to lean over her, threatening.\n\nQuickly she returned her gaze to mundane street level, only to see a man step hurriedly backwards out of sight around the far corner of the building\u2014a man who looked remarkably like young Lambert.\n\nAn illusion, of course, like the toppling building. She must have squished the blood vessels in the back of her neck, as revoltingly described by her friend Madge, a VAD nurse in the hospital where Daisy had volunteered in the office during the War. (Naturally anatomy had not been considered a suitable subject for the young ladies at Daisy's school.)\n\nShe blinked, and shook her head to clear it. As she stepped into the lobby, no further illusions met her eyes, just a brass-buttoned doorman.\n\nHe recognized her from the previous day's visit. \"The English lady, Mrs. Fletcher, right?\" he greeted her with a smile. \"For Thorwald, Abroad? Eighteenth floor, ma'am. You go ahead up. I'll phone through and tell Mr. Thorwald you're on your way so's he can meet you at the elevator.\"\n\n\"Thank you. You must have heard how I got lost yesterday trying to find his office.\"\n\n\"Lots of folks do, you betcha. It's the shape of the building, confuses people, see. Elevators to your right, ma'am.\"\n\nWhether at the doorman's behest or off his own bat, Thorwald was waiting for Daisy when the elevator reached the eighteenth floor. He was a pear-shaped gentleman, with a Vandyke beard above which his clean-shaven upper lip looked oddly naked. So did his pale blue eyes when he took off his gold-rimmed pince-nez and gestured with it or rubbed his eyes, as he did frequently.\n\nHe led the way through an outer room to his tiny office, crammed with heaps of manuscripts and galley proofs. Dumping a pile of copies of Abroad from a chair to the floor, he invited Daisy to sit down and carefully inserted himself behind his desk.\n\n\"I trust your accommodations are proving satisfactory, Mrs. Fletcher?\" he said.\n\nRotund and orotund, Daisy thought, assuring him, \"Eminently so.\" As usual when talking to Mr. Thorwald, she found herself succumbing to his polysyllabicism, like an exotic disease. Fortunately it did not infect her articles, or no one would have read them.\n\n\"I've made the acquaintance of a number of uncommonly intriguing people,\" she went on. She told him about Miss Genevieve Cabot, and the various hotel guests Miss Genevieve had introduced to her the previous evening. \"Incidentally,\" she said, \"are you able to elucidate the curious connection my mind persists in forming between the name Cabot and fish?\"\n\n\"Ah yes.\" Mr. Thorwald tittered. \"I believe the piscatorial association must be in reference to\n\ngood old Boston,  \n'The home of the bean and the cod,  \n'Where the Lowells talk to the Cabots,  \n'And the Cabots talk only to God.'\n\nA feeble versification at best, but since it was, I understand, pronounced as a toast after, one must presume, considerable pre-Volstead jollification, not utterly without merit.\"\n\nVolstead had something to do with Prohibition, Daisy thought. \"I must have heard the rhyme somewhere,\" she said. \"Mention was made of Boston, I recollect. Ought I to see Boston for the second article?\"\n\n\"While I hesitate to declare Boston unworthy of a visit, such a peregrination is unnecessary, my dear Mrs. Fletcher. There is so much to be admired in this magnificent nation that you cannot conceivably encompass its entirety. Your sojourns in Connecticut, New York, and Washington will suffice. It is not universality I desire but freshness of vision. And now, as our own visionary Benjamin Franklin observed, 'Remember that Time is Money.' Permit me to peruse the fruits of your exertions.\"\n\nWhile he read the completed article and the beginnings of the next, Daisy gazed out through the narrow window. What she saw was not the treetops of Madison Square, far below, not the visible sliver of the great city and the East River, but the greater continent beyond. South to the Caribbean and Mexico, north to Canada, three thousand miles to the Pacific Ocean\u2014she sighed, envying the shipboard friends who had plans to see as much as was humanly possible.\n\n\"Excellent.\" Mr. Thorwald approved Daisy's work. He made a few suggestions about the rest of the unfinished article; then they discussed her ideas for articles to be written when she returned to England. \"And now, dear lady,\" he said, taking out his watch, \"it is long past noon, I perceive. Will you permit me to take you to lunch at the Algonquin?\"\n\nAs well as being curious to see the Algonquin, Daisy was more than ready for lunch, having missed elevenses. Everyone else appeared to have preceded them. The publisher's offices were all but deserted as they passed through.\n\nAs they approached the elevators, Daisy immediately recognized the man waiting there, if waiting was the right word. She knew him as much by his actions as his looks\u2014Otis Carmody had opened one of the gates and was peering impatiently down the elevator shaft.\n\nPresumably he had long since worked out how to tell by the esoteric movements of cables which elevator was on its way. Though the Flatiron's lifts were twenty years younger than the Hotel Chelsea's, the machinery proceeded with almost as much creaking, groaning, clanking, and rattling.\n\nDaisy assumed the loud report was just part of the general cacophony until it was followed by an unmistakably human sound, a yelp of pain. A firecracker? She had heard plenty last night. Perhaps an office boy had unwisely kept one in his pocket.\n\nBut not ten paces ahead, Carmody teetered on the brink for a moment, then toppled over.\n\n\"Jumping jiminy!\" cried Mr. Thorwald.\n\n\"He didn't jump,\" Daisy said grimly. A pace ahead of the editor, she saw a man dart across the passage beyond the elevators, heading for the stairs. \"Stop!\" she shouted.\n\nHe turned a white, wild-eyed face to her, then ducked his head and dashed on. His boot nails rang on the marble steps as he started down. Daisy ran after him.\n\n\"Hey, stop!\" yelled someone behind her.\n\n\"Stop!\" Mr. Thorwald squawked.\n\nHesitating, Daisy looked back. To her astonishment, she saw Lambert chasing her, brandishing a gun. She hadn't time to be afraid before Mr. Thorwald launched himself at Lambert's ankles in a very creditable Rugby tackle and brought the young man down. Lambert's gun flew towards Daisy, while his horn-rims and Thorwald's pince-nez slithered across the floor.\n\nTo Daisy's even greater astonishment, she caught the gun. So the dreaded cricket practice at school hadn't been wasted, after all!\n\nBut what on earth was going on? Had Lambert shot Carmody? And if so, was he aiming at Daisy?\n\nShe had assumed the fugitive to be the villain. Was he a conspirator or, more likely, just a terrified witness? In any case, while she dithered he was making his escape, and even if he was only a witness, he ought to be stopped and made to return to give evidence.\n\nDaisy sped on, holding Lambert's revolver by the barrel so that she could not possibly fire it by accident. She hoped.\n\n\"Come back!\" shouted Lambert.\n\n\"Ugh!\" uttered Thorwald breathlessly.\n\nFrom the head of the stairs, peering over the rail, Daisy saw the fugitive leaping downwards like a chamois, already two floors below.\n\n\"Come back!\" she called, trotting down the first flight.\n\n\"Stop!\" Lambert, dishevelled and looking younger than ever without his glasses, appeared at the top. \"I'll get him, Mrs. Fletcher. You stay out of this. Please!\"\n\nDaisy froze as he bounded down the stairs towards her. At the last moment she remembered the gun in her hand. She swung it behind her to prevent his grabbing it. It slipped from her fingers and between two of the barley-sugar-twist banisters. A moment later a distant clang arrived from the bottom of the stairwell.\n\nBy then Lambert had passed Daisy and she, deciding discretion was definitely the better part of valour, had scurried back to the top of the stairs.\n\nMr. Thorwald was tottering to his feet, bleating plaintively, \"My pince-nez, my pince-nez! Would someone be so kind as to find my pince-nez?\"\n\nTwo persons of clerkly appearance and a probable typist had emerged from surrounding offices to gather about him, clucking and tutting in no very helpful fashion. Daisy spotted the pince-nez and returned it to him. As he clipped it to his nose, the top of the lift cage reached their floor at last.\n\nSprawled across its flat roof lay Otis Carmody, his neck all too obviously broken.\n\nAt Daisy's gasp, the others all swung round to gape. The typist shrieked and fell into the arms of one of the clerks. Meanwhile, Carmody continued to rise at a stately pace until he disappeared from sight. The elevator stopped.\n\n\"Hey, wha'z goin' on here?\" the aged lift man demanded querulously, peering with suspicion through the inner gate, making no move to open it. \"See here, one of you lot throw something down the shaft? Against reggerlations, that is.\"\n\nEveryone, even Mr. Thorwald, turned to Daisy.\n\n\"A man fell down the shaft,\" she said.\n\n\"Izzat so? Against reg... Huh? Wha'zat you said?\"\n\n\"There is a dead body on the roof of your lift.\"\n\n\"Lift? Wha'z... ?\"\n\n\"Elevator. A man fell down the shaft and landed on your elevator.\"\n\n\"Wuz a almighty whump,\" the old man admitted, at last opening the gate. \"Didn't sound like no garbage hitting. Lessee.\"\n\n\"You can't see anything as long as the lift...\" Daisy stopped as feet pounded towards them from the direction of the stairs.\n\n\"What's going on?\" panted Lambert. \"I lost him. He just kept going down. I couldn't keep up, let alone catch up.\"\n\n\"You saw him running on down?\" Daisy asked, surprised. She recalled clearly the time she had gone up the Monument in Fish Street Hill. Built to commemorate the Great Fire of London, it had 311 steps. Going up was bad enough, but going down, her knees had been wobbling uncontrollably long before she reached the bottom. Only a mountain goat could have run down.\n\n\"I heard him. Never caught sight of him, actually. I can't see much without my glasses. Where are they?\" He peered around myopically. \"And where's my automatic?\"\n\n\"Automatic?\" The two clerks looked at each other and backed away. The typist, who had recovered enough to listen to Daisy's exchange with the lift man, squealed again and hid behind them.\n\nKnowing the gun was safely out of reach for the moment, Daisy looked around for the horn-rimmed specs. They were dangling by one earpiece through the gate of the next lift. Gingerly she retrieved them and, holding them, turned to Lambert. He blinked at her. At the moment he didn't look very dangerous.\n\n\"What were you doing, waving a gun around?\" she asked severely.\n\n\"Waving a gun around?\" squeaked the typist.\n\n\"I can explain. But not here,\" Lambert added, waving at the spectators, three of whom melted away while the fourth, the lift man, was spectating his lift in a puzzled way. \"What's going on? Gee whiz, please give me my glasses,\" Lambert pleaded. \"Where's my automatic?\"\n\nDaisy handed over the glasses. \"Eighteen stories down, at the bottom of the stairwell.\"\n\nThis news perked Mr. Thorwald up no end. \"Who are you?\" he demanded belligerently. \"What were you doing pursuing Mrs. Fletcher with an automatic pistol? Did you shoot that unfortunate person?\"\n\n\"I don't see no body,\" interrupted the lift man.\n\n\"You'll have to take the lift\u2014elevator\u2014down a bit,\" said Daisy.\n\n\"There really is a body?\" Lambert asked. \"A man was shot? And fell down the shaft?\"\n\nDaisy exchanged a look with Thorwald. They both nodded solemnly. \"Yes,\" she said, \"and if you didn't shoot him, that other man did, and he's getting away! We must telephone the police at once.\"\n\nLambert started towards the nearest office suite. \"I'll find a phone.\"\n\nThorwald grabbed his arm. \"Oh no you don't, my fine fellow. I shall not allow you also to elude the authorities! We'll go to my office.\"\n\n\"I'm a federal agent,\" Lambert snapped, reaching for his inside breast pocket, \"and you, sir, had better stop interfering with me in the course of my duty! I must call Washington.\"\n\nDaisy and Thorwald gaped at him in shared disbelief. Whether he was going to pull an identification card or a second gun from his pocket remained to be seen, for the double clang of two lift gates made them all swing round.\n\nThe lift started down.\n\nA moment later, Carmody hove once more into view. He still looked very dead. When he reached floor level, the lift stopped.\n\n\"Gawd!\" gulped the federal agent.\n\nDaisy was not much happier with the sight. Nor, apparently, was Thorwald. As one they all three turned away, only to turn back as the lift again clanked into motion.\n\nIt rose until the upper half of the inner gate was visible, then came to a halt. The inner gate opened.\n\n\"Hey,\" said the lift man irritably, \"don' jist stand there starin'. Open up and help me outta here. Gotta see me that stiff.\"\n\nDaisy had prevailed\u2014ringing up the New York police had taken precedence over calling Washington, and in fact Lambert seemed to have lost his enthusiasm for reporting to his superiors. The local beat patrolman was standing guard over the elevator and the body. Detectives were on their way, and the D.A. had been notified.\n\n\"D.A.?\" queried Daisy, as Mr. Thorwald abstracted a bottle, soda water siphon, and two glasses from a desk drawer.\n\n\"District Attorney,\" Lambert explained. \"He's in charge of prosecution, so his office oversees the collection of evidence in major cases, such as homicide.\"\n\nMr. Thorwald pushed two glasses of gently fizzling pale amber liquid across the desk. Then he up-ended the bottle and swigged directly from the neck. Recent events seemed to have deprived him of both speech and his usual courtly manners.\n\nMindful of a recent occasion when imbibing spirits on an empty stomach had knocked her for six, Daisy sipped cautiously. She had never much liked whisky, but this was a step below any Scotch she had ever tasted. Setting the glass down, she turned back to Lambert.\n\n\"So you're a federal agent, you say! I suppose it must be true as the bobby accepted your credentials and gave you back your gun. But what exactly does that mean?\"\n\n\"It... er...\" Lambert hastily put down his already half-emptied glass as far away on the desktop as he could reach. \"It means I'm an agent of the Investigation Bureau of the U.S. Department of Justice. We're... er... responsible for enforcing federal law.\"\n\n\"Such as Prohibition?\" Daisy enquired with a touch of malice. \"You don't seem mad keen on enforcing that one.\"\n\n\"That's the Treasury Department does that,\" he said defensively. \"I'm Justice.\"\n\n\"Well, I haven't, to my knowledge, broken any other laws. So why have you been following me?\"\n\n\"F-following you?\" stammered Lambert, blushing.\n\nDaisy gave him an old-fashioned look. It proved as effective in American as in English.\n\n\"I... er.\" He swallowed. \"That is, my boss, Mr. Hoover, sent me to keep an eye on you.\"\n\n\"Indeed!\" said Daisy, hearing echoes of her mother in her tone. \"And does Mr. Hoover\u2014am I correct in assuming you refer to J. Edgar Hoover, whom my husband is at present advising, in Washington?\"\n\n\"Yes, ma'am.\"\n\n\"Does Mr. Hoover make a practice of spying on his colleagues' wives?\"\n\n\"I don't think you could exactly say that Mr. Hoover makes a practice of anything,\" Lambert said dubiously. \"He's not actually officially in charge yet. He's assistant director. Only we don't have a director at present.\"\n\n\"Well, if he suffers from persecution mania, or delusions of grandeur, or whatever ails him, I don't expect he'll remain in charge very long,\" Daisy predicted with asperity. \"Kindly tell him I strongly object to being treated as a prospective criminal.\"\n\n\"Gee whiz, it's not that. The surveillance is to stop you getting into... er... for your own safety, Mrs. Fletcher.\"\n\n\"Then tell him I'm no babe in arms and I can take care of myself.\"\n\n\"I can't do that!\" Lambert looked horrified at the thought. \"This is my first assignment, see. If I fail, I'm out on my ear. But I guess I've already failed,\" he concluded miserably. \"You've gotten mixed up in this horrible business. I suppose I better call Washington now and confess... report. Is there a telephone somewhere I can use privately, sir?\"\n\nMr. Thorwald started. \"Eh? Tephelone?\" He waved his bottle\u2014nearly empty\u2014at the apparatus on his desk. \"Be my guesht.\"\n\nDaisy stood up. \"Mr. Lambert wants to talk privately,\" she said. \"I think it would be a good idea if we went to find something to eat, Mr. Thorwald.\"\n\n\"Lunch,\" he agreed, and followed her docilely from his office.\n\nThe outer office was long and narrow, lined with shelves of magazines, interrupted by several doors. Against one wall stood a table piled with manuscripts and unopened manila envelopes, with chairs around it. In one corner of the room was a round table and more chairs. As Daisy entered, the murmur of which she had been distantly aware resolved itself into the voices of five or six men and a smart, rigidly marcelled and carefully made-up woman. They looked round as the door of Thorwald's office clicked shut. Silence fell.\n\n\"Howdy, ma'am.\" One of the men pushed forward. His sack suit looked as if it might once have actually held potatoes, and his tie was that bilious green potatoes turn when exposed to light. He looked, in fact, like a well-dressed tramp, except for the eye shade and ink-blotched cuff protectors. Daisy guessed he was an editor. \"Hey, Thorwald,\" he continued, \"is it true Otis Carmody's dead?\"\n\n\"Shtiff,\" Thorwald said succinctly, and sat down rather suddenly on a nearby chair.\n\n\"Not actually stiff,\" said Daisy. Everyone turned to her. \"He hasn't been dead long enough for rigor mortis to set in. And I'm not absolutely certain it was Otis Carmody.\" She had not seen his face, having avoided a close examination of the corpse. \"Though if you know him, and he was here this morning, I'm about ninety-nine percent sure.\"\n\n\"He was here, all right,\" said the man in the sack. \"He brought me an article. Pascoli, editor of Town Talk.\"\n\nHe stuck out his hand, so Daisy shook it. \"How do you do. I'm Mrs. Fletcher.\"\n\n\"Pleased to meetcha, Mrs. Fletcher. Town Talk's a weekly news magazine, anti-administration.\"\n\n\"Anti-administration?\"\n\n\"The New York administration, that is. We got nothing against Coolidge\u2014yet\u2014but our publisher would sure like to get the goods on Tammany. Carmody looked like the guy who was going to do it. He brought me an article, hot stuff, but it wanted a few loose ends tying up. I left him to finish up when I went to lunch.\"\n\n\"Lunsh!\" said Mr. Thorwald loudly, and hiccuped.\n\n\"Oh, you poor things!\" said the marcelled woman. \"Haven't you had lunch yet? I'll send out to the corner drugstore. Thorwald usually has bratwurst on rye. Will that do for you, Mrs. Fletcher?\"\n\n\"Uh, yes, thank you.\" Daisy wondered just what she was saying yes to, but she decided she was so hungry she could eat practically anything. \"It's very kind of you, Miss... ?\"\n\n\"Louella Shurkowski, Mrs., Ladies' Gazette, and you're welcome.\"\n\n\"Lunsh,\" repeated Mr. Thorwald, plaintively this time.\n\n\"Better order in plenty of coffee,\" suggested one of the other men. \"I never saw Thorwald pie-eyed before. He's had the same bottle of rye in his desk for months. He's really a Scotch man, but honest-to-goodness Scotch is rare as an honest politician these days. He doesn't even like rye. Must be real shook up.\"\n\n\"So Carmody's dead?\" mused Pascoli. \"What happened, Mrs. Fletcher?\"\n\nDaisy thought about what had happened. She had had too little time and too many questions before to take it in properly. Now the horror struck.\n\n\"Hey, this little lady's real shook up, too,\" said someone, and hands guided her to a chair by the round table.\n\nTrying to avoid a vision of the grotesque figure sprawled puppetlike on top of the lift, with his head at a crazy angle, Daisy thought instead of what Alec was going to say. He was bound to be furious that she had got herself involved in yet another murder, even though she was thousands of miles from home. Could she keep it from him? He was hundreds of miles away, after all.\n\nBut Lambert was telling J. Edgar Hoover, and Hoover would doubtless report Daisy's misdeeds to Alec.\n\nAnd she was going to have to report to the New York detectives at any moment. \"I don't think I'd better talk about it till the police come,\" she said. \"I'll just tell you that Mr. Thorwald was magnificent, a hero. He believed I was in danger\u2014I did too\u2014and he went right ahead and tackled the man he thought was after me, a man with a gun.\"\n\n\"It wazh nothing,\" said Mr. Thorwald. This modest disclaimer was followed by a huge yawn, whereupon he fell asleep and started to slide gently off his seat.\n\nHis colleagues rushed to rescue the hero. While they gathered him up and laid him flat on top of the manuscripts on the long table, for want of anywhere better, Daisy had a few moments of peace.\n\nThen the police arrived.\n\nThe first detective to enter was a stringy, dried-up man with a horrid little toothbrush moustache and an unlit cigar protruding from the corner of his mouth. As he came in, he looked back to say something in a high-pitched voice to the plainclothesman behind him, a blond giant who gaped past him and squawked, \"Geez, Sergeant, another stiff!\"\n\nThe sergeant turned back and stared. \"O'Rourke,\" he barked from the cigarless corner of his mouth, \"run and catch the doc before he leaves, and tell the guys there's two for the wagon.\"\n\nThe second man behind him pounded off in the startled hush before several people simultaneously began to explain.\n\n\"He's not...\"\n\n\"He is...\"\n\n\"He's just...\"\n\n\"Overcome by horror,\" Pascoli overrode them, thus saving Thorwald from divulgence of his overindulgence in forbidden alcohol.\n\n\"Witness, izzy?\"\n\n\"Yes, Sigurd Thorwald.\"\n\n\"Name?\"\n\n\"Yes, that's his name.\"\n\n\"Your name, wise guy.\"\n\n\"Oh, James Pascoli. And yours?\"\n\nThe little man flipped his lapel, momentarily revealing a badge. \"Gilligan, Detective Sergeant, Homicide Bureau. Witness?\"\n\n\"Me? Not exactly... .\"\n\n\"Didja,\" said Sergeant Gilligan with exaggerated patience, \"or didja not see anything pertaining to the demise of the deceased?\"\n\n\"No,\" Pascoli admitted, \"but...\"\n\n\"Who here's the witnesses, then, besides the guy on the desk?\"\n\n\"I am,\" said Daisy. \"My name is Dalrym... Fletcher, that is. Daisy Fletcher. Mrs. Alec Fletcher.\"\n\n\"That's a lot of aliases, lady.\"\n\n\"I was married quite recently. I still get muddled sometimes.\"\n\n\"British, are you?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\nGilligan rolled his eyes. He looked as if he didn't have much trust in her as a witness, if any. \"Anyone else see what happened?\" he asked hopefully.\n\n\"Just Mr. Lambert,\" said Daisy. \"He's an agent of the Department of Justice.\"\n\n\"Don't that beat the Dutch!\" Gilligan groaned. \"A reliable, trained witness, every 'tec's dream, but he'll want to make a federal case of it, you betcha sweet life, and the election's next week. So where's this Lambert?\"\n\nDaisy pointed. \"In there, telephoning Washington.\"\n\n\"Rats!\"\n\n\"If I might be permitted to speak,\" said Pascoli with a touch of sarcasm, \"there's a federal angle to this business anyway. The victim...\"\n\n\"Right, where is he?\" The man who bustled in was small, like Gilligan, but otherwise the detective's antithesis, being chubby with a round, pink, cheerful face.\n\n\"Where's who?\" asked Pascoli.\n\n\"Smart-ass,\" Gilligan muttered, swinging round as the newcomer replied, \"The victim, the second victim.\"\n\n\"Hi, doc,\" said Gilligan a trifle sheepishly. \"Sorry, looks like there's only one been croaked. But maybe you oughta take a look at this guy anyway. He's a witness, passed out cold from the shock, they say.\"\n\nThe doctor went across to Thorwald, bent over him, and straightened immediately with a grin. \"First time I've heard it called 'the shock,' but there's a new euphemism coined every day. Let him sleep it off. Oh, there you are, Rosenblatt. I thought you'd be along, with the election coming up.\"\n\n\"What do you have for me, doctor?\" asked the fair, dapper man standing in the doorway, surveying the scene.\n\n\"Gunshot to the upper left thigh, superficial wound. It's the broken neck that killed him. I'll try to do the post mortem for you this afternoon, but I make no promises.\"\n\n\"Good enough. Thank you.\" Rosenblatt stood aside to let the doctor depart. \"O.K., Sergeant, what's going on?\"\n\n\"Dangfino, sir,\" sighed Gilligan.\n\nSo far, Daisy was not impressed with the American police. If Rosenblatt and Gilligan were typical, no wonder J. Edgar was prepared to listen to advice from Scotland Yard on reforming his department.\n\nDaisy wondered whether Rosenblatt, whom she assumed to be the district attorney, was more competent. Failing that, she could only hope that they would somehow muddle through to a solution without involving her more than absolutely necessary. Since she had once more\u2014by absolutely no fault of her own\u2014landed in the middle of a murder investigation, she wished Alec were in charge. However angry, he would at least start with a presumption of her innocence.\n\nOn the other hand, this was her chance to prove to him that she was quite capable of coping without him. Maybe she could even work out who was the murderer and help the local police collar him. What a coup that would be! Alec would never again be able to claim she impeded his investigations.\n\nRosenblatt and Gilligan, conferring, kept glancing at her. Of course, she was the only witness both present and compos mentis, as long as she didn't faint from starvation. Mrs. Shurkowski had returned long since from her errand, but so far the promised \"bratwurst on rye\" had not materialized.\n\nRight now, Daisy would be happy to devour any old brat, best or worst, on barley, or millet, or any other grain available. She had to assume the \"rye\" in the order was not yet more whisky.\n\nThe editors had remained in an uneasy, whispering huddle around the recumbent Thorwald. Daisy saw several of them nod, as if they had come to an agreement. High heels clicking, Mrs. Shurkowski moved towards her while the rest drifted unobtrusively away.\n\nRosenblatt looked round. \"Mr. Pascoli?\" he queried; and when the Town Talk editor stopped, \"Stick around, if you wouldn't mind, sir.\"\n\n\"I have work to do,\" Pascoli complained, \"and Sergeant Gilligan didn't seem too interested in what I had to say.\"\n\n\"But I am. I'll be with you in just a moment.\"\n\nPascoli pulled a face and came to join Daisy as Mrs. Shurkowski said to her, \"Honey, us girls have to stick together. You want me to stay and hold your hand?\"\n\n\"Thank you, it's very kind of you, but I wouldn't want to keep you from your work. I'm sure I shall be all right.\"\n\n\"Don't you just love the way she talks?\" Mrs. Shurkowski said to Pascoli. \"Now, you mind what you say to them, honey, and call a lawyer pronto if they try anything on you. Your sandwiches'll be here any minute.\"\n\n\"Thank you so much,\" Daisy said sincerely.\n\nMrs. Shurkowski went off to edit the Ladies' Gazette. Pascoli sat down in a chair beside Daisy. \"Cigarette?\" He offered a gunmetal case.\n\n\"No, thanks.\"\n\n\"Whoops, pardon me, don't English gals smoke?\"\n\n\"Some do. Not awfully many.\"\n\n\"O.K. if I light up?\"\n\n\"I don't mind,\" Daisy lied. She disliked cigarette smoke almost as much as cigar smoke, but she felt guilty about her continued presence here and the disruption of work, as though her propensity for falling over bodies was actually responsible for the latest crime. What she longed for was the comforting smell of Alec's pipe. \"Is there really a federal dimension to the case besides Mr. Lambert's being a witness?\" she asked.\n\n\"Sure thing!\" Pascoli became earnest. \"Carmody spent the last several years in Washington, D.C., digging up the dirt on the Harding administration, and he didn't have to dig far, trust me.\"\n\nDaisy recalled a comment about Augean stables. \"So I've heard.\"\n\n\"His articles tweaked a whole lotta noses. President Coolidge is already cleaning house and lotsa people are getting the can because of what Otis Carmody wrote. It wouldn't surprise me one little bit if one of them came to town looking for revenge.\"\n\n\"It does seem possible.\"\n\n\"It's a dead cert.\"\n\n\"What about the article he wrote for you?\" Daisy suggested. \"Wouldn't that upset people?\"\n\nPascoli grinned. \"Sure would. He's written three so far, every one calculated to get up someone's nose. But none of 'em has been published yet.\"\n\n\"Still, he must have talked to lots of people to get his information. It couldn't be kept secret. Perhaps someone wanted to stop him before he dug any deeper.\"\n\n\"Or scare me into not publishing,\" Pascoli said soberly. \"You got a point there, ma'am.\" He cast a nervous glance over his shoulder at Gilligan and Rosenblatt.\n\n\"The articles are about Tammany? Who is Tammany?\"\n\nPascoli lowered his voice. \"It's a what, not a who. Leastways, Tammany was an Indian chief way back, but he hasn't anything to do with today's politics. Tammany Hall's the building that's come to stand for the Democratic machine that runs this burg. Crooked as anything President Harding's Republican pals were mixed up in, but much harder to oust. Heck, half the population owes their jobs to them, including Rosenblatt over there, looking like butter wouldn't melt in his mouth.\"\n\n\"He is the District Attorney, is he?\"\n\n\"Deputy D.A.\"\n\n\"That's a political appointment?\"\n\n\"Got it in one. So are garbage collectors, and a whole lotta folks in between.\"\n\n\"Garbage collectors? Dustbin men? Heavens, it sounds to me as if it will be just as well if the federal investigators take an interest in the case.\"\n\n\"You've said a mouthful, sister! Where's this guy Lambert? No kidding, I wanna stand behind him.\"\n\nDaisy rather doubted Lambert would be much protection, but she didn't have time to say so as Rosenblatt and Gilligan came over to them. Gilligan, chewing on his dead cigar, looked truculent, Rosenblatt worried.\n\n\"Mrs. Fletcher? Rosenblatt, Deputy District Attorney. Say, who's this guy Lambert? What's his connection with this business?\"\n\n\"You'll have to ask him, Mr. Rosenblatt.\" Daisy wasn't going to let herself be drawn into any complications. \"I only know that he told Mr. Thorwald and me that he is a federal agent. All I can tell you is what I saw.\"\n\n\"Yes, we'll get to that in a minute, ma'am. Mr. Pascoli, you know something about the federal connection, sir?\"\n\n\"Not exactly,\" Pascoli hedged. \"Nothing to do with the Justice Department specifically, more of a general Washington connection. Otis Carmody ruffled plenty of feathers in the capital. He was an investigative journalist, see, and a good one.\"\n\n\"A muckraker,\" said Rosenblatt, depressed. \"Probably had half of the last administration out for his blood.\"\n\n\"Got what was coming to him,\" Gilligan grunted.\n\n\"Maybe,\" Rosenblatt snapped, \"but we still have to pin it on someone. What was he doing in New York?\"\n\n\"He, uh, wanted to write for the magazine I edit,\" Pascoli said evasively.\n\n\"Which magazine is that?\"\n\n\"Town Talk,\" admitted Pascoli with obvious reluctance.\n\nRosenblatt gave him a hard stare. \"I know Town Talk. That's an opposition paper.\"\n\nPascoli shrugged. \"Hey, I don't set policy. You don't like it, you talk to my publisher.\"\n\n\"Had Carmody written anything for you yet? Leopards don't change their spots. What's he been writing?\"\n\n\"Ever heard of the First Amendment, buddy?\"\n\n\"Say, listen,\" interpolated Sergeant Gilligan, \"maybe we don't wanna know...\"\n\n\"Samwidges!\" A boy in a cloth cap and a jacket several sizes too large ducked under the arm of the plainclothesman on duty at the doorway to the hall. He bore a white cardboard box in his hands. \"Samwidges and coffee for Thorwald.\"\n\n\"At last,\" sighed Daisy, reaching for her bag.\n\n\"I'll get it,\" said Pascoli. \"It'll come out of petty cash, don't worry.\" He went over to the boy.\n\n\"Say, listen,\" Gilligan repeated, \"maybe we don't wanna know who the stiff was digging up the dirt on here in Noo York.\"\n\n\"We gotta find out,\" Rosenblatt said gloomily. \"The Feds are sure to. And we gotta clean this up quick, with the election next week, or the Hearst papers will wipe the floor with us again.\"\n\n\"You think that's what this guy Lambert's after, sir? Maybe he ain't got nuttin to do with what Carmody was up to in Washington. Maybe he's here to make trouble for us.\"\n\n\"No doubt we'll soon know,\" said the D.A. as the door of Thorwald's office opened and Lambert came out.\n\nHe and the sandwiches reached the round table at the same moment. \"Food!\" he exclaimed, sniffing the air. \"And coffee. Gee whiz, I could kill for a cup of coffee.\"\n\nPascoli glanced at Thorwald, now whuffling gently in his sleep. With a sigh, he pushed one of the sandwiches and a large mug of coffee across the table towards Lambert.\n\nMeanwhile, Sergeant Gilligan was staring suspiciously at Lambert. \"Kill?\" he growled, his right hand sliding inside his jacket. \"You talk mighty easy about killing. Is that maybe what you was sent from Washington for? To croak the guy that blew the gaff on your boss?\"\n\nLambert's mouth, open to take a bite of sandwich, stayed open though the sandwich came to a halt in midair. After a horrified moment, he squeaked, \"Who, me?\"\n\nDaisy recalled that Lambert had been given back his automatic, and she knew all New York police were armed. Was it time to dive under the table before a gun battle erupted? She hastily swallowed the bite of sandwich in her mouth, just in case (rye had turned out to be a darkish, sourish bread and bratwurst a sort of German sausage, the consumption of which made her feel vaguely unpatriotic).\n\n\"Yes, you, mister.\" Gilligan drew his gun from his shoulder holster.\n\nLambert dropped his sandwich and put his hands up. \"I didn't! Mrs. Fletcher, tell him I didn't.\"\n\n\"I can't,\" Daisy said regretfully. She did not honestly think the inept agent had shot Carmody, but he had, after all, rushed on stage brandishing a pistol immediately after the murder.\n\n\"Lemme pinch him, sir?\" begged Gilligan.\n\n\"Holy mackerel!\" Rosenblatt exclaimed. \"You can't go arresting a federal agent without evidence, Sergeant, just like he was anyone. Not without landing us all in deep... er,\"\u2014he glanced at Daisy and amended whatever he had been going to say\u2014\"in big trouble. It's no go.\"\n\n\"Rats! But how do we know he's really a Fed?\"\n\n\"My papers are in my pocket,\" said Lambert eagerly. He lowered one hand, but it shot up again when the Sergeant waved his gun.\n\n\"I'll get 'em,\" Rosenblatt offered.\n\n\"O.K., but don't get between me and him.\"\n\nThe D.A. retrieved the papers and studied them. \"U.S. Department of Justice, Bureau of Investigation. All in order,\" he sighed.\n\nLambert's sigh was considerably more heartfelt. \"Can I put my hands down, please?\"\n\nReluctantly Gilligan nodded, but he did not put away his gun. \"Who's to say he wasn't hired on as an agent just to croak Carmody?\" he demanded.\n\n\"Mr. Hoover, my boss, isn't one of the people Carmody had an interest in. He's working to get things running on the level again, after the mess Burns made of the Bureau.\"\n\n\"Oh yeah?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" Lambert assured him. \"See, Burns used federal agents to run his own detective agency. I wasn't one of them, I've only just joined.\"\n\n\"Just outta college and still wet behind the ears,\" Gilligan muttered, returning his gun to its holster at last. Then he noticed that Pascoli, all ears, was scribbling in a notebook. \"Hey, you!\"\n\n\"Me?\" Pascoli said innocently.\n\n\"Yeah, you. Whaddaya think you're doing? You're not a reporter.\"\n\n\"No,\" said Rosenblatt, \"but he's editor of a news weekly, which isn't that different. I guess it's useless to ask you to hand over your notes.\"\n\n\"Damn right!\"\n\n\"But we have no more questions for you at present, Mr. Pascoli, and I'm certain you're anxious to get back to your work.\"\n\nPascoli grinned. \"If you say so.\" He waved his notebook in a jaunty farewell, which made Gilligan bite through his dead cigar to grit his teeth audibly.\n\nRosenblatt turned back to Lambert. \"All the same,\" he said, \"I get notified whenever a new federal agent is stationed here, as a courtesy and to prevent mix-ups, and you're not on the list. If you weren't after Carmody, what brought you to the 'Big Apple,' and to the Flatiron Building just when he was killed?\"\n\nLambert threw an apologetic look at Daisy. \"I was tailing Mrs. Fletcher here.\"\n\nRosenblatt and Gilligan swung round to stare at her. The sergeant's hand hovered over his chest as if he wasn't sure whether to draw again. \"Her?\" he asked, incredulous. \"The dame's 'wanted'? Geez, she looks like butter wouldn't melt in her mouth.\"\n\n\"No, no,\" Lambert sputtered, \"just to protect her. Mr. Hoover was told by an English cop, a Superintendent Stork, that Mrs. Fletcher has a habit of landing herself in trouble.\"\n\n\"Superintendent Crane,\" corrected Daisy. \"The rotter! How beastly of him!\"\n\n\"You know this superintendent bird, ma'am?\" said Rosenblatt dryly.\n\n\"He's my husband's superior in the Metropolitan Police,\" Daisy admitted, hoping they would not have heard of the Met.\n\n\"Metropolitan... Isn't that Scotland Yard?\" The Deputy D.A. blinked. \"Your husband's a Scotland Yard man?\"\n\n\"Yes, actually. He's a Detective Chief Inspector.\"\n\n\"Geez, Chief Inspector? Whassat in our ranks?\" demanded Sergeant Gilligan.\n\n\"I'm afraid I don't know. I'm sure the system is quite different, and in any case he has no official standing here,\" Daisy said tactfully.\n\n\"Chief Inspector Fletcher is in Washington in his official capacity,\" Lambert contradicted her with a certain relish. \"He is advising our government.\"\n\n\"Aw, rats!\" said Gilligan.\n\n\"In Washington,\" Rosenblatt pointed out. \"Not here. Mrs. Fletcher, ma'am, I'd be grateful if you could see your way to giving us your evidence now, so that we need not keep you any longer.\"\n\nDaisy decided to exploit her newfound advantage. \"Would you mind awfully if I finish my sandwich first, Mr. Rosenblatt? I really am frightfully hungry.\"\n\nGilligan turned an interesting shade of purple, and Rosenblatt looked as if he was biting his tongue. Fortunately, a large, stolid uniformed policeman\u2014patrolman?\u2014came in to report, so Daisy didn't discover the limits of her power. She listened as she munched.\n\n\"Whole building's been combed, sir, roof to basement. Ain't nobody that don't have a good reason to be here.\"\n\n\"Whassa doorman say?\" asked Gilligan.\n\n\"Doormen, Sergeant. There's two main entrances, on the Avenue and Broadway. They say nobody's been let to leave since the first patrolman got here after the homicide was phoned in. But gen'rally they don't make a note of everyone that comes in and don't take no notice of them going out, 'specially at lunchtime. It's a commercial building, see, not like one of them fancy apartment buildings that no stranger gets in without they buzz the residents.\"\n\n\"I know it's a commercial building,\" Gilligan snapped.\n\n\"And then there's the doors from the lobby to the shops on the street level. They got outside doors, too. We talked to all the shop clerks, but there's people going in and out alia time, specially in the lunch hour. They don't notice 'em 'less they looks like they're gonna buy sumpin or pinch sumpin.\"\n\nThe sergeant groaned. \"What about the elevator attendants? Someone gotta of seen sumpin!\"\n\n\"Seems three of 'em goes unofficially off duty between the lunch rush out and the lunch rush in. Poker in the basement, I reckon. They ain't none of 'em noticed nuttin outta the way, 'cepting the old buzzard what the stiff fell on toppa his elevator.\"\n\n\"And what did he see?\" asked Rosenblatt.\n\n\"The stiff on toppa his elevator, sir.\"\n\nThe D.A.'s mouth twitched, whether in amusement or irritation Daisy couldn't tell. \"The stairs start at the second-floor level,\" he said. \"So our fugitive must've taken the elevator down to the ground, so one of the men must've seen him.\"\n\n\"There's service and emergency stairs from first to second, sir. I guess he musta took 'em. The doors ain't locked.\"\n\n\"They wouldn't be,\" Rosenblatt sighed. \"You took the name and address of everyone in the building that doesn't work here? And where they claim to have been when Carmody was shot?\"\n\n\"Yessir. Detective O'Rourke's got the dope.\"\n\n\"O.K., we'll try to get a decent description of the guy that was seen running off, then we'll need\u2014lessee\u2014make it four men to go round again. The rest of you can go for now.\"\n\n\"Figure we'll need more'n four, sir,\" grunted Gilligan. \"Or it'll take all day.\"\n\nIt was the first unmistakable sign Daisy had seen that the detective was not happy to have the District Attorney's Office supervising his investigation. She wondered just what Rosenblatt's duties were in such a case. There was no equivalent in England to his position.\n\nRosenblatt conceded. \"O.K., O.K., Sergeant, however many you need. Now, Mrs. Fletcher, if you've quite finished your sandwich, let's hear what you have to tell us about Carmody's death.\"\n\nDaisy swallowed the last bite and followed it with a draught of strong black, lukewarm coffee. Other than Alec's presence, the one thing in the world she wanted was a hot cup of tea to fortify her for the interrogation.\n\nWhenever Alec was forced by circumstances beyond his control to take evidence from Daisy, he always started by insisting that she give him only facts, not her speculations. He always ended up taking her comments and theories into account, if not counting on them, but Daisy suspected pure conjecture would not go down well with Rosenblatt and Gilligan.\n\n\"Where would you like me to begin?\" she asked.\n\nGilligan sighed heavily.\n\n\"At the beginning?\" suggested Rosenblatt, not without irony.\n\n\"But is the beginning when Mr. Thorwald and I approached the lifts\u2014elevators\u2014and saw Carmody...\"\n\n\"Fine!\" said Gilligan.\n\n\"... or when I heard him yesterday,\" Daisy persisted, \"arguing in the room next door?\"\n\n\"Next door?\"\n\n\"At the hotel where I'm staying.\"\n\nThe sergeant was incredulous. \"Carmody was in the next room?!\"\n\n\"I guess we could go back to that later,\" Rosenblatt said hastily. \"For now, let's stick with today. Just the facts, ma'am.\"\n\n\"Right-oh. It was after most people had left for lunch. That's usually twelve noon here, isn't it? Mr. Thorwald said it was long past noon and invited me to lunch at the Algonquin.\"\n\n\"The Algonquin?\" said Gilligan. \"That's quite a joint for an editor to treat a reporter at.\"\n\n\"Oh dear, is it a speakeasy?\" Surely not, or Miss Genevieve would not visit it\u2014or would she? \"I can't believe it, Mr. Thorwald is fearfully respectable.\"\n\nGilligan and Rosenblatt guffawed. Well, at least she had cheered them up, Daisy thought.\n\n\"Speakeasy! No, ma'am,\" said the D.A., \"the Algonquin is one of the smart hotels, though it's true it's frequented by literary types. What sort of money spinners were you writing for Thorwald?\"\n\n\"I'm a journalist really, not a reporter. I write travel articles for Abroad magazine.\"\n\n\"That's wunna them glossies. Still, geez, the Algonquin!\"\n\n\"I expect,\" put in Lambert, \"Mr. Thorwald considered it suitable because Mrs. Fletcher is a titled lady.\"\n\n\"Titled?\" yelped Rosenblatt.\n\n\"Whaddaya mean, she's Lady Sumpin or sumpin?\"\n\nWith a silent groan\u2014what else had Crane told about her?\u2014Daisy said quickly, \"No, not Lady anything, and it's just a courtesy title, not a proper one. Mr. Thorwald and I went out to the elevators. Mr. Carmody was already there. I recognized him at once, though I couldn't see his face, because...\"\n\n\"Hang on! You recognized him?\" asked Rosenblatt. \"You had met him, not just heard him talking? Here or at your hotel?\"\n\n\"I hadn't met him. We hadn't been introduced. I'd seen him and been told who he was. As I was about to say, I recognized him at once because I'd seen him doing exactly the same thing at the hotel. He's... he was an impatient sort of chap. If an elevator didn't appear right away when he rang for it, he'd open the gate and look down the shaft, I suppose to see how far down it was, how long he'd have to wait.\"\n\n\"Say, there's five elevators out there,\" Gilligan objected, \"not counting the freight elevator. Howd'e know which one to look down?\"\n\n\"They make a frightful racket, and you can see the cables moving.\"\n\n\"Oh, sure.\"\n\n\"That's what he was doing when you saw him,\" said Rosenblatt, with exaggerated patience, \"peering down the shaft?\"\n\n\"Yes. He was holding the handle of the gate\u2014you know, the bit you grab to open it\u2014and leaning forward to look down. The shock of being shot must have made him let go. Once he'd done that, he hadn't a hope.\"\n\n\"Could you tell which direction the shot came from?\"\n\nDaisy shook her head in negation. \"I thought the sound was just part of the noise of the machinery until I saw him fall. It could have come from anywhere.\"\n\nThe sergeant shook his head in disgust. \"Coulda come from anywheres, huh? In backaya, in frontaya, anywheres at all.\"\n\n\"I guess it reverberated,\" said Rosenblatt soothingly.\n\n\"At the time, I assumed it had come from ahead of me, because I saw a man run across the passage and down the stairs.\"\n\nRosenblatt and Gilligan both leaned towards her. \"Yeah,\" breathed Gilligan, his pencil poised over his notebook, \"the man at headquarters that took the report on the phone said the killer was seen escaping. This guy, whaddy look like?\"\n\nDaisy tried to picture the man. \"He was very pale,\" she said, \"and he looked absolutely horrified. I had an impression of something vaguely familiar about him. But I didn't get a really good look. I thought I ought to keep him in sight, so I started chasing him...\"\n\n\"Geez!\" said Gilligan, shaking his head again, whether in admiration at her courage or disbelief at her folly Daisy did not enquire.\n\n\"But then,\" she continued, \"someone yelled at me to stop and I glanced back and saw Mr. Lambert running after me waving a gun, and...\"\n\n\"Waving your gun, were you?\" Rosenblatt said reprovingly.\n\n\"To protect her,\" Lambert protested. \"I didn't know what was going on.\"\n\n\"Nor did I,\" said Daisy. \"I guessed that you must be the murderer, but before I could work out what to do, Mr. Thorwald brought you down.\"\n\n\"That was some tackle,\" Lambert admitted grudgingly. \"I lost my glasses and my gun.\"\n\n\"Which I caught. So I stopped worrying about what you were up to and went on chasing the man who was running away, who had to be either an accomplice or a frightened witness. In any case, he ought to be stopped if possible.\"\n\n\"Whaddy look like?\" demanded Gilligan.\n\n\"Well...\" Daisy considered, then shrugged. \"Just ordinary. I only had a glimpse before he started down the stairs.\"\n\n\"No distinctive characteristics?\" said Rosenblatt gloomily.\n\n\"I don't think so. Once he was going down I couldn't see much but his hat, and that was a sort of bowler, rather shabby.\"\n\n\"Bowler?\"\n\n\"I think you'd call it a derby.\"\n\n\"Dahby\u2014oh, durrby. A derby hat doesn't tell us much.\"\n\n\"I'm afraid not.\"\n\nGilligan snorted. \"You don't see many of 'em around these days. It's all soft felts, homburgs and trilbies and fedoras. But you can't arrest a bird for wearing a derby,\" he said severely.\n\n\"I can't describe him any better, but I have a feeling I'd recognize him if I saw him again.\" She frowned. \"I'm pretty sure I haven't seen him before, so it's odd that he seemed familiar. If only I could think why!\"\n\n\"Yeah, well,\" said Gilligan, \"you think why, you let us know. Guess you better have a go at the mug book.\"\n\nNot for the first time, Daisy wished she spoke American. \"What's a mug book?\" she asked cautiously.\n\n\"Scotland Yard don't have 'em yet?\" Gilligan snickered, with mingled scorn and pride. \"When we pinch\u2014arrest\u2014someone, see, we make 'em mug for the camera. We take a photo shot of their mugs, so we got a record.\"\n\n\"Oh, of course. I think Scotland Yard calls it their rogues' gallery.\"\n\nGilligan looked chagrined at not being a step ahead of the Yard. \"Yeah, well, we call it that, too.\"\n\n\"What next, ma'am?\" asked Rosenblatt. \"You were chasing the man down the stairs.\"\n\n\"He was far ahead of me by then. It was obvious I'd never catch him.\"\n\n\"You didn't shout to him to stop?\"\n\n\"I did call, 'Come back,' but not very loudly. I mean, I was always taught that ladies simply don't shout in public. And to tell the truth, I wasn't absolutely sure I wanted to catch up with him. After all, I didn't know whether he was just a witness, or a murderer, or Lambert's accomplice.\"\n\n\"You had a gun,\" Rosenblatt pointed out. \"You said you caught Mr. Lambert's.\"\n\nDaisy stared at him. \"Gosh, but... but I couldn't shoot it!\"\n\nThe D.A. sighed. \"No, I guess a lady that can't shout out in public isn't gonna know how to fire a gun. Heck,\" he went on generously, \"there aren't too many women in America could do it, not in the East, anyhow. It's not like we live in the Wild West, with rustlers and bandits and rattlesnakes all over. So you gave up the chase, ma'am?\"\n\n\"Not just like that. Mr. Lambert came running down the stairs after me. He said he'd get him and I must stay out of it. I hadn't the foggiest what was going on, but it seemed wisest to go back up to Mr. Thorwald.\"\n\n\"You betcha!\" Gilligan exclaimed. \"A dame that can't fire a gat's got no business chasing crooks that can. So you went after him, Lambert?\"\n\n\"One thing at a time,\" said Rosenblatt. \"We'll take Mr. Lambert's evidence when we've finished with Mrs. Fletcher's.\"\n\nStorm clouds gathered on the sergeant's brow, but they gradually dissipated as Daisy described the arrival of Carmody's corpse, riding on top of the elevator. Tears came to his eyes when\u2014mindful of Alec's frequent injunction to omit no detail, however apparently insignificant\u2014she told of the elevator attendant's efforts to view the \"stiff.\" She didn't think Gilligan's tears were tears of sorrow. It had been funny in a macabre way.\n\nShe reported Lambert's return, and his admission that he couldn't see much without his glasses. That was a detail whose significance Gilligan did not miss.\n\n\"Rats!\" he said. \"What's the use of chasing a guy without you can see him?\"\n\n\"I could see a running figure,\" Lambert protested. \"If I'd caught up with him...\"\n\n\"Later!\" Rosenblatt snapped. \"Go on, Mrs. Fletcher.\"\n\nThere was not much more to tell. She had urged ringing up the police. Lambert had wanted to call his superiors in Washington, but Daisy had insisted on Mr. Thorwald notifying the local police first.\n\nFor the first time, Rosenblatt and Gilligan eyed her with something amounting almost to approval. It did not last long.\n\n\"I feel I ought to warn you,\" she said, \"that as Mr. Lambert has reported to Mr. Hoover, and my husband is working with Mr. Hoover, it is not beyond the bounds of possibility that he\u2014my husband\u2014will shortly turn up in New York.\"\n\n\"Rats!\" groaned Gilligan.\n\n\"I'm sure we'll be glad of any tips Scotland Yard has to offer,\" Rosenblatt said sourly. \"Now, what's all this about you overhearing Carmody at your hotel? Where are you staying?\"\n\n\"The Hotel Chelsea. It's...\"\n\n\"Full of bohemians.\" The sergeant did not appear thrilled by the prospect of having to interview the Chelsea's residents.\n\nDaisy told them of the sounds of altercation she had heard through the walls. \"The first time it was just one other man, I'm pretty sure. The second time there was a woman and another man.\"\n\nGilligan brightened. \"So there's a dame involved! That's the answer, you betcha.\"\n\n\"But you didn't hear what they were saying?\" Rosenblatt asked.\n\n\"Not most of it. Then I went out onto the balcony for a breath of air. Carmody's window was open.\"\n\nOnce again Rosencrantz and Guildenstern\u2014Blast! Daisy had been trying so hard not to think of them like that. If she wasn't careful she would address them as Hamlet's friends. They might not recognize the reference, but it would not raise their low opinion of her wits\u2014Rosenblatt and Gilligan leaned towards her.\n\n\"I heard the woman call him by a rude name, and she said she would not return to him if he had a million dollars. And he said that if he made a million dollars, she still wouldn't squeeze one...\" Daisy hesitated. \"I think she said 'red cent.'\"\n\n\"That just means a penny,\" Lambert explained.\n\n\"He said she wouldn't squeeze one out of him.\"\n\n\"Blackmail!\" cried Gilligan. \"Say, listen, this is how I figure it. This dame is Carmody's frail, and she's gotten the goods on him. She knows sumpin he done that if she told the right people, they could put pressure on him to stop writing about them, and then kablooey goes his career. And they break up, see, and she finds this other guy and tells him, and they put on the screws.\"\n\nRosenblatt frowned. \"Could be, but a blackmailer doesn't usually kill his victim. It's the other way around.\"\n\nGilligan was only momentarily taken aback. \"O.K., so maybe it is the other way around.\" He turned to Daisy. \"You sure it was Carmody said that? About not a red cent?\"\n\n\"Pretty sure. I heard him speak later, in the elevator and then down in the lobby. But there was some traffic noise, a tram\u2014streetcar\u2014going past.\"\n\n\"So it coulda been the other guy. Carmody finds out sumpin about him. That's his business, after all, digging up the dirt. Whatever it is, he figures it's worth more to keep quiet than to sell it to the noospapers, so he puts the screws on this guy. And the dame's this guy's wife and she finds out and she leaves him, so that's another count against Carmody!\"\n\n\"But she left with the other man,\" Daisy protested. \"I saw them going down in the elevator together.\" Then she recalled that while she had assumed the pair she saw had been in the room next door, she had no proof. The lift had stopped at her floor, but perhaps the woman in it had come from a higher floor.\n\nThey had been standing much closer together than strangers would, though. Daisy was sure enough of her guess, and reluctant enough to admit that it was a guess, to let her statement stand.\n\n\"So the dame was talking to Carmody,\" Gilligan reasoned. \"She just found out he was a dirty blackmailing skunk, and she left with this other guy he was blackmailing. It was him talking next, refusing to pay up. Now we just gotta find this dame, and she'll lead us to the guy, and there's our murderer.\"\n\n\"Could be,\" Rosenblatt said with more enthusiasm. \"In which case, there's no federal angle.\"\n\n\"So sonny boy here can run along home,\" said Gilligan with a triumphant glare at Lambert.\n\n\"I still have to keep an eye on Mrs. Fletcher,\" Lambert said stubbornly. \"Besides, Mr. Hoover's sending another agent to deal with the case. He's afraid our men up here may have gotten too pally with Tammany Hall.\"\n\nRosenblatt and Gilligan exchanged a foreboding look. Then Gilligan scowled.\n\n\"Say, if your job was just tailing the d... lady, how didja know this stiff had anything to do with Tammany?\"\n\n\"Mr. Thorwald told me. That is, when Mrs. Fletcher recognized Carmody and told us his name, Thorwald recalled that Pascoli had talked about him and the articles he was writing. Naturally I informed Mr. Hoover.\"\n\n\"Naturally,\" said Rosenblatt gloomily. \"Why the heck did this hafta happen the week before the election? Even if it all happened like you said, Sergeant, the Hearst and opposition papers will make hay. O.K., Lambert, let's hear what you saw out there.\"\n\nDaisy was pretty sure Lambert had nothing to add to her evidence, so she only half listened. She pondered the scenario Sergeant Gilligan had built up.\n\nIt sounded reasonable, if one assumed Daisy had wrongly identified Carmody's voice. An expert at ferreting out secrets, he might have turned to blackmail. Though her impression of him was of an unrelenting honesty, it was based on nothing more than his ferocious forthrightness. She had scarcely exchanged a word with him.\n\nBut she had heard him speak, and she was almost convinced he was the one who made the remark about the \"red cent.\" Almost.\n\nDaisy returned exhausted to the Hotel Chelsea, with instructions not to depart from New York.\n\nAfter leaving Rosencrantz and Guildenstern trying to rouse the somnolent Thorwald to give his evidence, she and Lambert had descended to ground level to find a mob of reporters on the pavement. Sidewalk.\n\nHeld off by the friendly doorman and a patrolman, they were baying for blood, or at least for any scrap of information. They obviously knew, presumably through Pascoli, that one of their own had been foully done to death. Fortunately the Town Talk editor had apparently not described either Daisy or Lambert. The newsmen harassed them on general principles\u2014they had actually been inside the building where the murder had taken place!\u2014but did not guess they were witnesses.\n\nThe young agent forged ahead through the crowd, forcing a path for Daisy. She kept her mouth shut. If they knew anything about her at all, the sound of her voice would give her away.\n\nAs they walked back along Twenty-third Street to the hotel, Lambert kept trying to apologize, for having been set on to follow her and for having failed to keep her out of trouble. Wearily, she cut him short, drawing his attention to an evening newspaper billboard with a notice about a \"special\" on the murder.\n\nSomeone had nosed out that the victim was staying at the Hotel Chelsea. A lesser mob of reporters had gathered on the sidewalk, but they were less aggressive than their brethren at the Flatiron Building. Balfour, the black doorman, was managing single-handedly to keep them out of the lobby, with constant reiterations of \"A private hotel, ge'men. Residents and their visitors only.\"\n\nDaisy reflected that Alec would long since have sent a constable or two to take charge.\n\nShe and Lambert entered without too much difficulty. \"It won't be so easy,\" said Lambert gloomily, \"once this lot of newshounds puts their heads together with the others and they figure out we're connected with both the hotel and the Flatiron Building.\"\n\n\"I expect there's a back door they'll let us use,\" Daisy consoled him.\n\n\"Yeah, sure! I'll go speak to the manager right away.\"\n\nHe forged ahead towards the registration desk, while Daisy paused in the lobby. It was teatime, and the Misses Cabot were lying in wait.\n\nMiss Genevieve raised an imperious hand. Daisy considered pretending she had not seen, but she wanted her tea, not to mention information which Miss Genevieve was more likely than anyone else to provide. She went over to the pair.\n\nThe younger Miss Cabot's pale cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright. \"My dear Mrs. Fletcher, I guess you have heard that one of our residents has met an untimely end?\"\n\n\"Otis Carmody,\" Daisy confirmed.\n\n\"I wondered\u2014Mr. Carmody is reported to have died in the Flatiron Building, and I know the offices of Abroad are located there\u2014did you happen to hear any details of events when you were visiting with your editor?\"\n\n\"I know a fair bit about it,\" admitted Daisy, \"and I'll tell you what I can, but I'm rather tired and grubby. I hope you'll excuse me while I go up and take off my hat first.\"\n\n\"Of course! In fact, would you care to come and take tea in our suite rather than down here?\"\n\n\"So much more comfortable,\" twittered Miss Cabot.\n\n\"And private,\" added Miss Genevieve.\n\nDaisy agreed, and they gave her their suite number, on the third floor. Heading for the lifts, she glanced back to see Miss Genevieve struggling from her seat with the aid of her sister, her stick, and the bellhop.\n\nHow painful it must be, Daisy reflected, for a woman who had led the active, independent life of a crime reporter to be so dependent\u2014very likely worse than the actual physical pain of her crippling disease. Miss Genevieve might well have become a morose hermit. That she had instead retained her spirit and her lively interest in the world was admirable. The old lady deserved to have her curiosity satisfied.\n\nBesides, if Daisy told her what had happened at the Flatiron Building, she was bound to reciprocate with all she knew about the late Otis Carmody.\n\nYoung Kevin took Daisy up in the lift. He was bubbling with excitement. \"Gee, ma'am, I took Mr. Carmody down in this same very elevator just this mornin'. Jist think o' that! And now he's bin croaked. I wish it was my elevator he broke his neck in,\" he said wistfully. \"D'ya think the 'tecs'll want to talk to me anyways?\"\n\n\"Do you know anything which might be of interest to them?\"\n\n\"Do I! D'ya know what our Bridey told me?\"\n\n\"No, but I can tell you that the police will want to hear it from your sister, not from you.\" As do I, Daisy added silently.\n\n\"Leastways,\" Kevin sighed, \"I can tell 'em she's got sumpin to tell 'em. Seventh floor, ma'am. Going up!\" he called to the empty passage. \"Going down! Going anywheres you wanna go.\"\n\nDaisy laughed. \"I'll be going down again in a few minutes, so if no one rings for you, you might as well wait.\"\n\n\"O.K., ma'am.\"\n\n\"Is Bridey\u2014Bridget\u2014still on duty?\"\n\n\"Yes'm, till eight.\"\n\n\"Kevin, the detectives may not want to talk to you, but the Press will, and they'll hound Bridget unmercifully if you mention that she knows something.\"\n\n\"Mercy!\" cried the boy, sounding very Irish. \"I'll spin 'em a yarn'll keep 'em happy without never breathing a word about our Bridey.\"\n\n\"Do that,\" said Daisy, \"and better not tell anyone else, either. Thank you, Kevin.\"\n\nGoing to her room, she tossed her gloves on the dressing table, took off her hat and coat, then rang the bell to summon the chambermaid. She had washed the grime of New York from her face and hands and was tidying her honey brown shingled hair when the tap came at the door.\n\n\"Come in.\"\n\n\"'Tis sorry I am to've kept you waiting, ma'am,\" the girl apologized. \"I was ironing an evening gown for another lady. What can I do for you?\"\n\n\"Nothing just now, thank you, Bridget. I just wanted to warn you. Your brother told me you know something about Mr. Carmody that may interest the police. Until you have spoken to them, you would do well not to talk to the Press, nor to mention the matter to anyone else. If the murderer were to find out...\"\n\n\"Oh, ma'am, 'tis not a soul I'll be telling!\" gasped the maid. Her freckles stood out like a rash in her white face, Daisy saw in the looking-glass\u2014she was now wielding a powder puff in the perpetual effort to conceal her own few freckles. \"Oh, ma'am, d'ye think he'll come after me wi' a gun?\"\n\n\"Not if you're sensible and keep quiet. I didn't mean to frighten you. Have you already told anyone?\"\n\n\"Oh no, ma'am, savin' me brother. You're the only guest has been friendly at all, at all, and I wouldn't gossip about the guests wi' the other maids. Father Macnamara says gossiping is a sin,\" she added virtuously.\n\n\"Very true,\" said Daisy, hoping the stricture did not apply to reporting on one guest to another, particularly a friendly other. \"I must go now, but I shall see you later, Bridget.\"\n\n\"Yes, ma'am. Thank you, ma'am. Will I press a frock for you for dinner?\"\n\n\"Yes, would you, please? I expect you're less busy now than you will be later.\" Daisy went to the wardrobe and took out the black georgette she had bought for the transatlantic voyage. \"I'll wear this one.\"\n\nSuitable for mourning, she thought as she returned to the lifts. Not that she exactly felt like mourning Otis Carmody, but all the same, she would dress up the plain frock with one of her more subdued scarves this evening.\n\nKevin was awaiting her, kneeling on the passage floor, playing at dibs with an astonishing agility. He grinned at Daisy, tossed all five jacks and caught them on the back of his hand. A last toss and catch, and he shoved them into his pocket. Standing up, he brushed off the knees of his livery trousers.\n\n\"Gotta do sumpin to keep from going nuts,\" he observed. \"Third floor?\"\n\n\"Yes, please. How did you guess?\"\n\n\"I keeps me eyes and ears open,\" said Kevin with a knowing look.\n\n\"You went back down to pick up the Misses Cabot,\" Daisy accused him, \"and heard them talking on the way up.\"\n\n\"I keeps me eyes and ears open,\" Kevin repeated with his infectious grin. \"Going down!\"\n\nThe Misses Cabot's residence comprised a small foyer, a large sitting room, two bedrooms, a bathroom, and a small kitchen at the rear of the hotel. The sitting room had a splendid fireplace, faced with green tile and topped with a carved rosewood mantelpiece, where a small, cheery fire glowed, adding its mite to the already oppressive heat.\n\nThere were built-in rosewood bookcases, but most of the furniture was the Cabots' own, heavy mahogany upholstered in faded crimson plush. Whatnots crammed with bibelots and photographs in silver frames were surely the elder Miss Cabot's. One corner of the room was dedicated to Miss Genevieve's business, with a spartan kneehole desk, a cabinet for files and reference books, and a typewriter which matched the one in Daisy's room.\n\nOn the walls, whose white paint somewhat relieved the Victorian gloom, hung watercolours of little girls with kittens and little boys with puppies, alternating with framed newspaper cuttings. Daisy would have liked to examine the latter, but the Misses Cabot awaited her, and tea was laid out on a small, lace-draped table by a lace-draped window.\n\n\"Tea!\" she exclaimed. \"You cannot imagine how I long for a cup.\"\n\n\"Oh dear!\" clucked Miss Cabot. \"You must drink as much as you like, Mrs. Fletcher. I can easily make more.\"\n\n\"Do tell me what happened at the Flatiron Building,\" Miss Genevieve requested eagerly.\n\nIn the course of drinking the pot dry, Daisy described the events she had witnessed. She was careful not to pass on any speculation. The police would have a right to be unhappy if she revealed their ideas on the identity of the murderer, though they had had no business to discuss it in front of her.\n\nBut, in finishing, she did say, \"I gather Mr. Carmody had written articles which earned him the enmity of people in high places in Washington. And that he was well on the way to doing the same in New York.\"\n\n\"I have read his Washington articles,\" said Miss Genevieve, eyes sparkling. \"They were hard-hitting, all right. They have led to at least one official hearing, into Colonel Forbes, Director of the Veterans' Bureau, who was selling surplus government material for his own profit. I wonder if Forbes hired a hoodlum to rub Carmody out.\"\n\n\"The man I saw running away didn't look like...\" Daisy started to protest, but Miss Genevieve wasn't listening.\n\n\"No, more likely the Tammany bosses sent one of their local thugs to stop his investigation before they got hurt. And since both the police and the District Attorney's Office are firmly under Tammany's thumb, they'll get away with it.\"\n\nMiss Cabot continued the running refrain which had punctuated Daisy's story: \"Oh dear!\"\n\n\"Not necessarily,\" said Daisy. \"I understand a federal agent will be involved.\"\n\n\"The Feds stationed in New York are all in Tammany's pockets,\" declared Miss Genevieve cynically.\n\n\"A man is coming from Washington.\"\n\n\"Indeed! Now how did that come about, I wonder?\" Her penetrating gaze fixed Daisy, who was immediately certain she looked guilty. She had no intention of revealing that J. Edgar Hoover had sent an agent to take care of her.\n\nHowever, Miss Genevieve forbore to probe. \"That will put a cat among the pigeons, and no mistake!\" she went on. \"So close to the election, they can't afford to be caught hiding evidence. It would be worse than letting Carmody publish, and almost as bad as being proved to have hired an assassin!\"\n\n\"Oh dear!\"\n\n\"You don't think there might have been a more personal motive for the attack on Carmody?\" Daisy ventured. \"I don't know anything about his private life.\"\n\n\"He was married,\" revealed Miss Genevieve consideringly. \"His wife came with him from Washington.\"\n\n\"Oh dear, the poor woman!\"\n\n\"But she left him, as you know very well, sister.\"\n\n\"Only think how guilty she will feel, sister, to have left him in his hour of need!\"\n\n\"She can hardly have foreseen that he was to be murdered, sister. Unless,\" Miss Genevieve mused, \"she was responsible for his death.\"\n\n\"Oh dear!\"\n\nMarried? Then the woman Daisy had heard must have been Mrs. Carmody. Did the fact reinforce or destroy Sergeant Gilligan's pet theory?\n\n\"There was also the man he quarrelled with in the lobby the other day,\" continued Miss Genevieve. \"A Mr. Pitt, a fellow resident and fellow writer. He has written a novel, poor man. I had noticed them together previously.\"\n\n\"What did they quarrel about?\" Daisy asked.\n\n\"That I cannot tell you, alas. Mr. Pitt spoke quite quietly, and they were at some distance from us, in that area between the lobby and the registration desk. Mr. Carmody's voice was not lowered, however. He repeated several times, in different ways, that he could do nothing for him. In the end, Mr. Pitt raised his voice and called him a...\"\n\n\"Sister!\"\n\n\"A rude name. Several, in fact. He continued the abuse as Carmody pushed past him, heading for the street.\"\n\n\"What did Mr. Pitt do then?\" Daisy wanted to know.\n\n\"The manager came out and\u2014I presume\u2014desired him to moderate his language as there were ladies present, whereupon he departed, I assume by way of the stairs.\"\n\n\"The stairs? Not the elevators?\"\n\n\"He turned to the right, and I happened to have noticed young Kevin sneaking out about his nefarious business a few minutes earlier,\" said Miss Genevieve dryly.\n\nDaisy laughed. \"Pitt went up by the stairs, then. Heavens, look at the time. My husband will be back at his hotel by now. I must phone him and tell him I shan't be taking the train tomorrow. Excuse me for running off, and thank you so much for the tea.\"\n\nReturning to her room, Daisy saw that a uniformed policeman had been stationed at the next door along the passage, the door to Carmody's room. She wondered whether it had been searched already. Perhaps Gilligan was still busy with Thorwald and other possible witnesses at the Flatiron Building, such as the doormen. The sergeant might well want to search the victim's room himself, for fear of turning up evidence incriminating his bosses at Tammany Hall.\n\nWhile she waited for her telephone call to be put through, Daisy paced her room. She hardly dared think what Alec was going to say, but she simply could not fix her mind on anything else, even the burning question of who had killed Carmody.\n\nIt was twenty minutes before the switchboard rang back to say she was connected. Then Alec's voice came through, crackling and scratchy but unmistakably Alec.\n\n\"Great Scott, Daisy, tell me it's not true?\"\n\n\"Darling, I couldn't help it!\"\n\nHis sigh whistled down the wire. \"I know, love. You'd better not talk about it. There's no knowing who might be listening in. Just tell me, are you all right? You're not too upset? The police didn't threaten you with what they call the 'third degree'? If they did, by God I'll have their livers and lights!\"\n\n\"No, no, darling, they were fairly polite. But this isn't the moment to remind me of American police methods! Surely they wouldn't use violent methods on a respectable married lady who has been utterly cooperative? Besides, my watchdog was by my side most of the time. I'm going to have your super's liver and lights when we get home!\"\n\nA laugh entered Alec's voice. \"So you've discovered Crane's meddling, have you?\"\n\n\"Alec, he didn't tell you he was going to...\"\n\n\"Great Scott, no, love. The gentleman I'm working with here told me, to reassure me that you wouldn't run amok without me. Little did he know...\"\n\n\"Don't be beastly, darling. I do miss you. I wish you were here.\"\n\n\"Oh, I shall be. I'm taking a train to New York tomorrow afternoon. Should be there by teatime. Hoover has exacted a promise from me to protect the New York police from you.\"\n\n\"Horrid beast! But I'm glad you're coming. I'll meet you at the station. What time?\"\n\nThe rest of their conversation was taken up with practical details followed by sweet nothings. After she had hung up the earpiece, Daisy sat for several minutes revelling in the glow left by the latter.\n\nThen curiosity, her besetting sin, reasserted itself. She reached out determinedly for the bell to ring for the chambermaid. It was time to find out what Bridget had to tell about the late Otis Carmody.\n\n\"Come in, Bridget.\" Daisy noted the girl's weary stance. It was a busy time for her, and towards the end of a long workday. \"Can you spare me a few minutes?\"\n\n\"O' course, ma'am. What can I do for you?\".\n\n\"Come and sit down. I would like to talk to you.\"\n\n\"Oh, ma'am, I didn't ought, but faith, I'll be glad to get the weight off of me feet.\" With a little sigh, Bridget sank into the easy chair Daisy indicated. She sat bolt upright, though, with her red, chapped hands folded neatly in her lap. \"Is it Kevin you wanted to talk about, ma'am?\" she asked anxiously. \"He hasn't been fresh, has he?\"\n\n\"Fresh?\"\n\n\"Saucy, ma'am. Cheeky. 'Tis how they say it here.\"\n\n\"Oh yes, he's been 'fresh,' all right,\" Daisy said, laughing, \"but in such a friendly way I couldn't possibly take offence. I like Kevin. Actually, I wondered whether you had spoken to the police yet.\"\n\n\"Only to pass the time of day wi' the bluecoat guarding Mr. Carmody's door. Kevin says there was a detective went to the manager's office and wrote down the name and address of all the staff and residents. I wish they'd hurry up and get it over with. Sure and I might forget what I heard.\"\n\nDaisy knew an opportunity when she saw one. \"Would it help to tell me, now?\" she suggested. \"Then it will be fresh in your mind. Fresh in the English sense.\"\n\nBridget was eager to oblige. She never listened at doors, she was quick to explain, but she had been putting clean towels in Mr. Carmody's bathroom. He knew she was there, but he hadn't told her to leave, and she had not dared to creep out in the middle of the Donnybrook.\n\n\"Irish that is, ma'am, that word, not American. A fight, sure enough, though being a lady and gentlemen they used hard words, not shillelaghs.\"\n\nThe chambermaid had the Irish gift for story-telling. While she talked, Daisy could imagine herself cowering in the bathroom, listening involuntarily to the harsh voices.\n\nFirst had come the peremptory rap on the outer door. Brisk footsteps crossed the room to answer it.\n\n\"What the heck do you want now, Elva?\" That was Carmody, bored, irritated.\n\n\"We can't talk in the hallway, Otis.\" A female voice, high-pitched, with a hint of a whine\u2014Mrs. Carmody. She was a pretty woman, with an air of fragility, Bridget said.\n\nA long-suffering sigh next reached the maid's ears. \"O.K., come in then if you insist. Yes, you too, Bender. I don't know what more you think there is to say.\"\n\n\"Not my idea,\" spluttered the unknown Bender. \"Leave it to the lawyers.\"\n\n\"Honey, the lawyers can't help if Otis won't cooperate.\" Mrs. Carmody now spoke in tones of sweet patience. \"He's not one of your tenants to be evicted. I don't see why you won't give me a divorce, Otis.\"\n\n\"I'm quite ready to divorce you, sweets.\" Carmody's voice conveyed a sardonic grin. \"For desertion, or adultery, whichever you choose.\"\n\n\"You know that'd damn me in the eyes of the best New York society. Why can't you be a gentleman and give me grounds to divorce you for adultery?\"\n\n\"Because I'm too much the gentleman ever to be unfaithful.\"\n\n\"Oh, don't give me that hooey!\"\n\n\"Now, now, Elva, don't be vulgar,\" chided Carmody. \"The best New York society won't stand for vulgarity.\"\n\n\"Damn you! I'm sick of your sarcasm. I'm sick of never knowing when you're gonna get paid. I'm sick of playing second fiddle to your damn career, running around at all hours digging up dirt that makes important people hate your guts. I'm never coming back to you, so why won't you just go and have a fling with some little chorus girl?\"\n\n\"So you can set your private dick on my tail, peering through keyholes and jumping out of closets with his Kodak to catch me in flagrante?\" Carmody was angry now. \"Sordid, Elva, sordid! No, I'm not putting myself in the wrong for your sake, so Bender's goddamn blood-sucking lawyers can strip me of what little I possess!\"\n\n\"Hold it there, buddy!\" bleated Bender. \"I don't need your two bits to keep the little woman in furs and diamonds.\"\n\n\"Maybe not, but I'm not taking the risk. And it's no good saying you'll sign a paper. I know what a smart lawyer can do with a piece of paper, and I know all the judges in this burg got elected on the Tammany ticket, and I know you're in cahoots with Tammany. So forget it, buster. You're not gonna wring a nickel out of me, let alone two bits. Why don't you take her to Reno?\"\n\n\"It takes six weeks to get a Reno divorce,\" snapped Elva Carmody. \"Barton can't leave his business that long. You can't expect me to go through an ordeal like that without his support.\"\n\n\"Afraid you'll lose him?\" sneered Carmody. \"Out of sight, out of mind.\"\n\n\"Bastard! Of course not. I trust Barton absolutely.\" Her voice changed to a coo. \"We're in love, aren't we, honey?\"\n\n\"Sure thing, honey baby. Come on, let's go. It's like talking to a brick wall.\"\n\nThe door to the hall had not quite slammed. Bridget heard the scrape of a match, then Carmody had drawled, \"It's safe now, girl. You can come out.\"\n\nHe was seated at his desk, smoking, apparently unruffled, when the chambermaid scuttled past him with her armful of dirty towels. She had not dared to face him since, making sure he was absent when she had to enter his room to perform her duties.\n\nSo much for Sergeant Gilligan's theory, Daisy thought. But that did not mean Mrs. Carmody's lover had no motive for shooting her husband, especially if he truly loved her. Surely, though, it would have been much simpler to manage somehow to take her to Reno, wherever that was.\n\nExcept that Tammany Hall had once again reared its ugly head. A Reno divorce would not solve that side of the equation.\n\nOr maybe something had been said on the return visit, of which Daisy had heard the end, which made Carmody's death imperative. She wished she had seen more of Barton Bender than the balding top of his head. Could he have been the man who escaped down the Flatiron Building's stairs?\n\n\"Did you see Mr. Bender?\" Daisy asked Bridget. \"Then or at any other time?\"\n\n\"No, ma'am. 'Twas when Mr. and Mrs. Carmody first came to the hotel I saw her, before she up and left. I never seen Mr. Bender.\"\n\n\"Never mind. You can tell the police his name and they'll find him. And however slow they are, I don't think there's much fear of your forgetting what they all said. You had every word down pat, and they won't expect such accuracy.\"\n\n\"Yes'm. I was listening hard 'cause I was scared, so it stuck in my mind zackly what they said. But the other time I heard Mr. Carmody quarrelling, I only heard a little bit and I don't remember so well.\"\n\n\"There was another time?\" Daisy said hopefully.\n\n\"I was going to make up his bed,\" explained the chambermaid. \"The door hadn't been closed all the way. I stopped to knock, and I heard him talking to someone he called Willie. He said he couldn't help him. Well, this Willie, he gets excited and says he could if he would. He says he has no loyalty to his family and he always was a bully. I remember that. 'You always was a bully,' he said.\"\n\n\"That's William speaking?\"\n\n\"Yes. This Willie called Mr. Carmody a bully. Then Mr. Carmody, he said, 'And you were always a little tick. A real pest you were, when we were kids, and you still are. Just like a burr under a saddle. I can't do anything for you. Go away, do.'\"\n\n\"You've remembered that very well,\" Daisy commended her.\n\n\"Well, when I thinks back on it, it all kinda comes back to me. Anyways, when Mr. Carmody told him to go away I thought as he'd be coming out, this Willie, so I went and did the bed in the next room, not this one, the other side. But he didn't leave right away, 'cause I heard him shouting, only I couldn't make out the words. Did I oughta tell the police about this Willie, ma'am?\"\n\n\"Certainly. I suppose you didn't see him, either?\"\n\n\"No, but I reckon he must be a relative, don't you, ma'am? Talking about family loyalty and all?\"\n\n\"It certainly sounds like it,\" Daisy agreed. \"I expect the police will track him down. You'll want to get back to work now, won't you?\"\n\n\"Yes, ma'am, and thank you, ma'am. Telling you, I've got it all straight in my head for when the police come.\"\n\nBridget left, and Daisy contemplated what she had learnt.\n\nA relative, she thought, now that was was more in her line. An amateur sleuth hadn't much hope of solving a political assassination. Not that she was an amateur sleuth! It wasn't her fault she kept getting mixed up in murders, whatever Alec said.\n\nWhen it happened at home, Alec always ended up in charge of the investigation. The Met's Assistant Commissioner for Crime considered him the only person capable of reining in Daisy once she had the bit between her teeth, not that he had much evidence for that comfortable conclusion. In fact, Alec's involvement tended to lead to Daisy's further involvement.\n\nHere in New York, however, he would be a bystander, and when he arrived he'd make sure she played her role as a witness and nothing more.\n\nThat was not likely to be much of a role, since she was a witness whom the police did not hold in high regard. Daisy sighed. She would have liked to prove her mettle to them. Perhaps she could at least find out who William was.\n\nIf he was a resident of the hotel, Kevin probably knew all about him. So, of course, did the manager, who had already yielded his lists to the police. If he was not a resident, Daisy hadn't the slightest idea where to start looking. Blast! That was a dead end.\n\nWhat about Mrs. Carmody and her presumed lover? Was there anything she might discover or deduce about them?\n\nHer ruminations were interrupted by the ring of the telephone bell.\n\nIt was the hotel doorman. \"Mrs. Fletcher, ma'am, ge'man to see you. A Mr. Thorwald.\"\n\n\"Please tell him I'll come down at once.\"\n\nSo poor Mr. Thorwald had escaped from Sergeant Gilligan's clutches. Daisy hoped he had fully recovered from his encounter with the bottle of rye whiskey. As she powdered her nose, she wondered what, if anything, he had told the police. Had he observed something he had not mentioned to her? He couldn't have seen much after he tackled Lambert and lost his pince-nez, besides which the alcohol might well have achieved its intended function of blotting out unpleasant memories.\n\nFor a moment, the memory of Carmody's body was unpleasantly clear in Daisy's mind. Dismissing it with a shiver, she patted her curls into place and went to the door.\n\nOut in the passage, a disconsolate Lambert awaited her. \"Gee whiz, I was hunting for you for ages,\" he said. \"Where did you go?\"\n\n\"When you went off to enquire about a back exit? Really, Mr. Lambert, you may have a duty to follow me, but I have absolutely no obligation to keep you informed of my movements,\" Daisy pointed out a trifle tartly, continuing towards the lifts.\n\nThe young agent kept pace, his lips pursed in a sulky near pout. \"It's for your safety,\" he reminded her. \"And now you're a vital witness to homicide, anything could happen.\"\n\n\"How reassuring! The police don't seem to think I'm a vital witness. I couldn't give them a good description of the man who ran away.\"\n\n\"No, but he doesn't know that.\" Lambert pressed the button to call an elevator. \"And you said you would recognize him if you saw him again.\"\n\n\"I think so.\" Again Daisy wondered whether \"this Willie,\" Carmody's presumed relative, was a hotel guest. If she had seen him about, it would explain why she had thought the fugitive vaguely familiar\u2014if he was the fugitive.\n\nIf, if, if. The \"if\" phase of a murder investigation was always a lengthy and frustrating one, in Daisy's experience.\n\nIf you can keep your head when all about you  \nAre losing theirs, and blaming it on you...\n\nKipling, \"If.\" One of those tags and snippets from her schooldays which tended to flit through her mind, called up by frequently inapposite associations. Perhaps not totally inapposite this time: Rosencrantz and Guildenstern blamed her for losing her head and not getting a precise and detailed description of the murderer for them; and they were in danger of losing their heads over the possible Tammany connection.\n\nThe lift arrived. Had Kevin come with it, Daisy might\u2014in spite of Lambert's presence\u2014have asked the boy what he knew of William. But Kevin's shift was over. The attendant was a stout, lugubrious man who wheezed as if he had personally pushed the elevator all the way from ground level. He didn't so much as glance at Daisy and Lambert as he asked them which floor they wanted.\n\n\"Lobby, please,\" said Daisy.\n\n\"You're going out?\" Lambert asked.\n\n\"No. Not that it's any of your business. As a matter of fact, Mr. Thorwald is here to see me.\"\n\nLambert's eyes narrowed behind his horn-rims. \"Say, you don't think Thorwald did it? He was behind you, wasn't he? He could have pulled a gun without you seeing it. And he had his back to me, and I didn't have much of a view where I was standing.\"\n\n\"He was only just behind, practically beside me. I might not have seen, but if the shot was so close, it would have sounded much louder than it did, and surely I would have smelt the smoke?\"\n\n\"Probably,\" Lambert conceded reluctantly.\n\n\"Anyway, I'm sure Mr. Thorwald had nothing to do with it. He's just not that sort of person.\"\n\n\"You can't tell by just looking at someone,\" the fledgling agent argued. \"That's one of the first things they taught us.\"\n\n\"I didn't 'just look' at Mr. Thorwald,\" Daisy retorted. \"I first met him months ago, in England. We have corresponded regularly. And I have had two long talks with him since I arrived in New York. Here we are,\" she said as the elevator came to a halt. \"Now, if you insist on hovering over me, do try a little harder to make yourself inconspicuous!\"\n\n\"I'll try,\" said Lambert, abashed.\n\nFor all her indignant denial, as Daisy crossed the lobby to greet Thorwald she could not help wondering whether he might have shot Carmody. Suspicion faded at the sight of him. He came to meet her with a hangdog air.\n\n\"My dear Miss Dal... Mrs. Fletcher, I cannot apologize sufficiently for my disgraceful behaviour. I am unaccustomed to intemperate bibulation and I fear I was overcome.\"\n\n\"Perfectly understandable,\" Daisy assured him. \"It was a natural reaction to such a beastly business. And when you saved me from Lambert\"\u2014who, in an unconvincing manner, was studying a Cubist painting hanging nearby which Daisy guessed had been given to the hotel in lieu of rent by a particularly unsuccessful artist; she glared at the agent's oblivious back and turned back to Thorwald\u2014\"you were simply splendid.\"\n\nHer editor blushed but lamented, \"That such an atrocious incident should have occurred upon the occasion of your appointment with me!\" He took off his pince-nez and attempted to rub his eyes, only to discover his hat and gloves in his other hand. It was a topper, and he had on a dinner jacket\u2014a tuxedo\u2014under his overcoat.\n\n\"Please, don't worry about it. I cannot possibly hold you responsible. But you look as if you are going out to dinner, Mr. Thorwald. Don't let me delay you.\"\n\n\"My dear young lady, as a matter of fact I was permitting myself to hope... That is, I telephoned Mrs. Thorwald... My wife is at present sojourning with her mother in Jersey... . I telephoned to describe to her the disastrous course of the day, and she insisted that the only way to make amends... In short, Mrs. Fletcher, since I was unhappily prevented from taking you out to lunch, will you do me the honour, that is, give me the pleasure, of dining with me?\"\n\n\"I shall be delighted,\" said Daisy, who had sampled once too often the dinners the hotel restaurant served to those whose minds must be presumed to be occupied by higher things. \"Will you excuse me while I go and change? I shan't be long.\"\n\n\"Of course.\" Mr. Thorwald beamed. \"No need to hurry.\"\n\nLambert caught up with her on the way to the lifts. Glancing back, he said suspiciously, \"He's taken a seat. Is he waiting for you to come back?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Daisy. \"He's taking me out to dinner. If you must follow, for pity's sake dress properly. And buck up. We won't wait for you.\"\n\n\"Gee whiz! Where are you going?\"\n\n\"I don't know. He didn't say.\"\n\n\"You mustn't go without me, darn it,\" Lambert said anxiously. \"The old codger's probably planning to slip knockout drops in your soup!\"\n\nDaisy was not one to dilly-dally when there was a good meal in the offing. Yet Lambert changed his clothes with such speed that he was waiting for her when she stepped out of the elevator in the lobby. He had buttoned his stiff shirt wrong, and his tie was lopsided. Otherwise his evening dress was perfectly adequate. Daisy supposed it was one of the disguises essential to his job.\n\nShe gave him a distant nod and walked on. Mr. Thorwald stood up as she approached, but he was looking over her shoulder with a puzzled expression. Daisy turned, to find Lambert lurking unhappily so close behind that Thorwald couldn't help but recognize him.\n\nAlmost recognize him: the bottle of whisky had done its work to the extent that he said hesitantly, \"Don't I know that young fellow?\"\n\n\"That's Mr. Lambert, whom you so bravely tackled.\"\n\n\"The fellow with the automatic pistol? Yes, I recollect him. Don't tell me he continues to pursue you! I'll eject him.\"\n\n\"He's staying here. And he's a federal agent, remember? Charged with my safety.\"\n\n\"So he would have us believe,\" muttered Thorwald. \"He appears to have escaped police surveillance, but I consider it unwise to leave him to his machinations unobserved. Aha, I have it. Hi, you there, Lambert or whatever you call yourself!\"\n\n\"Me, sir?\" Lambert said cautiously.\n\n\"Well, is your name Lambert or isn't it?\"\n\n\"Yes, sir, it is.\"\n\n\"Then presumably it is you I'm addressing.\"\n\n\"I guess so,\" Lambert admitted.\n\n\"Do you care to join Mrs. Fletcher and me for dinner?\" Thorwald invited him.\n\n\"Who, me?\"\n\n\"No!\" roared Thorwald. \"Some other young idiot called Lambert who's been following Mrs. Fletcher around all day!\"\n\n\"Gee whiz, sir, yes, thank you, I'd be honoured to join you. But let's get outta here quick. Here comes Sergeant Gilligan. This way!\"\n\nAs Gilligan entered by the front door, turning to bellow at a reporter who dared to pursue him with questions, Daisy and Thorwald hastened after Lambert. He led them past the reception desk and down a narrow, badly lit and indifferently cleaned corridor, down stairs and up again, past kitchens, storerooms, and laundry rooms. Thorwald showed a disposition to balk at this undignified proceeding, but Daisy hustled him onward. For once she was in complete agreement with Lambert: she had no desire whatsoever to come face-to-face with either the sergeant or the Press.\n\nShe was explaining this to Thorwald as they emerged into a dark alley and turned towards the bright lights of Seventh Avenue. Coming towards them, silhouetted against the lights, was a man in a bowler hat.\n\n\"It's him!\" she cried. \"Stop him!\"\n\n\"Who?\" Mr. Thorwald asked reasonably. He had been absent in spirit(s) when she described the fugitive to the police.\n\n\"The man in the bowler hat.\"\n\nLambert's face turned to her palely. \"Bowler... ? Oh, derby!\" And he started running.\n\nBy then the man in the bowler hat was fleeing. When Daisy, hampered by a long skirt and high heels, caught up with Lambert at the alley's exit, their quarry had mingled with the passers-by and disappeared. The street was busy. Among the silk hats, soft felts, and caps were several derbys. They could not accost them all.\n\nThorwald puffed up. \"Who?\" he repeated. \"No, don't reply now. Taxi!\" He waved.\n\nA chequered cab swooped down to pick them up.\n\nLambert would not let them discuss \"sensitive material\" where the driver could overhear. When they reached the restaurant, Thorwald demanded their concentrated attention on the menu until they had ordered. So it was while they waited for the soup that he reiterated his question: \"Who? Who is the man in the derby?\"\n\n\"Didn't you see him?\" Daisy asked.\n\n\"Only silhouetted against the illumination, which was insufficient to permit recognition.\"\n\n\"I meant, at the Flatiron Building. He's the man I chased down the stairs.\"\n\n\"No, I did not observe the object of your pursuit. I was otherwise occupied, in arresting the progress of your pursuer.\" He turned a still suspicious gaze upon Lambert.\n\n\"A mighty fine tackle, I'll allow,\" Lambert said, glowering, \"but I could bear to know just why you got in my way when I was aiming to protect Mrs. Fletcher.\"\n\n\"Please, gentlemen! Cease hostilities!\"\n\nDaisy's plea was aided by the arrival of their soup. A truce was observed until the waiter departed.\n\n\"Mr. Thorwald,\" Daisy said quickly, \"Mr. Lambert knows far too much about my husband's doings to be an imposter. And Mr. Lambert, Mr. Thorwald is an altogether respectable and knowledgeable editor who has never been anything but extremely helpful to me. Please, let's concentrate on catching the murderer. It was an unbelievable stroke of luck to see him tonight, though it's a pity we weren't a couple of minutes later, when he'd already entered the hotel.\"\n\n\"But what persuades you to suppose... ?\" began Thorwald.\n\n\"Gee whiz, Mrs. Fletcher,\" Lambert overrode him, \"we don't have any reason to believe it was the same guy.\"\n\n\"Then why did you run after him?\"\n\nLambert looked sheepish. \"I guess when you yelled 'stop him' I just reacted without thinking. The chances of his being the guy we're after are, oh, about one in however many men in New York wear derbys.\"\n\n\"Bosh! What was he doing sneaking down a back alley behind the very hotel where his victim had been staying? And why did he run away?\"\n\n\"If I was taking a short-cut down a dark alley and someone yelled, 'It's him, stop him,' I guess I'd run.\"\n\nMr. Thorwald stopped spooning in soup for long enough to nod agreement.\n\n\"It's too much of a coincidence,\" Daisy argued. \"I'm sure it was William.\"\n\nTwo pairs of bewildered eyes blinked at her from behind their glass shields.\n\n\"William?\" Lambert queried uncertainly.\n\n\"I'll tell you about William in a minute. Let me eat my soup before it's stone cold.\"\n\nAfter her late lunch, Daisy had eaten nothing at tea. She was hungry, and the cream of mushroom soup quickly disappeared. Then, careful to conceal her source, she told them what little she had learnt about the quarrel between Otis Carmody and the man he addressed as Willie.\n\n\"Since he talked about family loyalty,\" she pointed out, \"he's obviously a relative.\"\n\n\"A reasonable deduction,\" Lambert conceded.\n\n\"And they were children together. I think they were cousins. If they had been brothers, William would have the same surname as Otis, in which case the hotel people would have noticed and told the police.\"\n\n\"How do you know they didn't?\" Lambert asked sceptically.\n\n\"I can't be certain, of course. I'm betting, though, that at least one of my sources of information would have found out and told me. About the surnames being the same, I mean, if not whether the police have been notified.\"\n\n\"My dear young lady,\" Thorwald interjected, \"your rationale presupposes that the person in question is a resident of the Hotel Chelsea.\"\n\n\"If he isn't,\" said Daisy, \"then what was he doing skulking around in the alley by the service entrance?\"\n\nThe men pondered this question while the waiter served the fish course.\n\n\"Circular reasoning!\" said Lambert, triumphant.\n\nDaisy looked back on her chain of deductions and was forced to admit he had a point. She must be tired. \"Well, maybe. But don't you think it's all rather fishy?\"\n\n\"Mmmm,\" said Thorwald happily, and delved into his halibut.\n\nGiving up for the present, Daisy turned her attention to her sole bonne femme. It was excellent.\n\nWhile she ate, she considered her two companions. Thorwald, she suspected, had much rather not think about the murder at all. Even the memory of his heroic gesture was not enough to make the \"atrocious incident\" a desirable subject for contemplation. Lambert, on the other hand, was quite willing to discuss the case. Unfortunately, his only contributions so far had been to shoot down her theories. He had yet to make any useful suggestions of his own.\n\nShe resolved to drop the topic for this evening. Tomorrow morning she'd see what further information Kevin could give her, and then she would take all she knew to Miss Genevieve, who would certainly have her own ideas to add to the seething pot.\n\nWhen Daisy went down in search of breakfast, Kevin was on duty, and more or less at leisure. The majority of the hotel's guests did not put in an appearance so early, he explained. La vie boh\u00e9mienne allowed, indeed demanded, that they rise at noon or later. \"Time is Money\" was not a phrase which dominated them as it did the world of American business.\n\nWhen Daisy said she'd like to ask Kevin one or two questions, he was delighted. He stopped the lift between the sixth and fifth floors so that they could talk in peace.\n\n\"I don't mind telling you stuff,\" he said. \"Them bulls, now, I wouldn't give 'em the time o' day. Not after they come round our place last night and scared me mam and bullied Bridey. Bulls!\" he exclaimed in disgust. \"I told 'em I got better things to think about than listening to the flapdoodle people talk in the elevator, and up and down all day, I got no time for hotel gossip. Ha!\" He grinned.\n\n\"Whereas I know,\" said Daisy with a smile, \"that you listen to every word and spend as little time as possible in your elevator. Do you know anything about the man Bridget heard addressed as Willie? Do you know his last name, for a start?\"\n\n\"Pitt,\" said Kevin promptly. \"Wilbur Pitt, tenth floor.\"\n\n\"So he is a resident! Wilbur Pitt?\" Daisy mused. \"I assumed he must be William. That name sounds familiar. Was he related to Carmody?\"\n\n\"Dunno 'bout that, ma'am. I guess maybe. I saw 'em together a few times and they didn't look like they liked each other, so they wasn't friends, anyways. Yeah, maybe they was related. You wouldn't notice seeing 'em apart, but when you saw 'em next to each other, there was something about their faces... Yeah, they wasn't twins or nothing like that, but they coulda been related.\"\n\n\"Cousins, perhaps.\"\n\n\"Could be. Mr. Pitt's older'n Mr. Carmody, and he don't look so well fed, 'fya know what I mean. Kinda tough and stringy. More like he worked hard outta doors, like my brother on the waterfront.\"\n\n\"I know what you mean. Pitt! That's the chap Miss Genevieve saw quarrelling with Carmody in the lobby. I don't suppose you know what they were arguing about?\"\n\n\"Not zackly,\" Kevin admitted regretfully. \"I wasn't there, but what I heard is it was sumpin about interductions. Seems like Mr. Carmody wouldn't give Mr. Pitt an interduction.\"\n\nOne didn't kill one's cousin simply because he refused to provide an introduction, Daisy thought, disappointed. Now if they had been fighting over money, or a woman... But so much for Cousin Wilbur. A great pity, she had rather fancied him as the villain.\n\n\"What about Mrs. Carmody and Mr. Bender?\" she asked.\n\n\"They was mighty lovey-dovey, them two. Spooning in the elevator,\" said Kevin with scorn, \"like I wasn't there. Course, last time they came, it wasn't me took 'em down, but I heard she was blubbing and he promised he'd fix things so they can get married. He said he wasn't going to let any pen pusher push him around, no sirree!\"\n\n\"That sounds promising,\" said Daisy. \"But isn't that someone ringing for the lift again? You'd better take me down now.\"\n\n\"Darn it, can't they leave a guy in peace for two minutes?\" the boy complained. \"O.K., here we go.\"\n\nLambert was skulking in the lobby. He looked so relieved to see Daisy that she wondered whether he was afraid she had done a moonlight flit. With an inward sigh, she decided she could not decently avoid inviting him to join her for breakfast.\n\n\"Don't worry,\" she said as they sat down, \"Alec arrives late this afternoon and you'll be relieved of your arduous duty.\"\n\nLambert blushed. \"Not at all,\" he stammered. \"It's been a pleasure. But I'll be helping Mr. Whitaker, who's coming to figure out whether it was Tammany sent the thug that killed Carmody, or someone in Washington. That's real police work.\"\n\nReal police preconceived notions, Daisy thought, but she held her tongue. They gave their orders, which led to a discussion of the differences between American and English food and language. Daisy was still bewildered by an offer of eggs \"over easy\" or \"sunny-side up,\" but she approved of waffles and simply adored maple syrup. She hadn't quite accustomed herself to getting syrup on her sausages or bacon, though.\n\nAfter breakfast, Lambert expressed his willingness to escort her to visit any of the sights of New York she wished to see.\n\n\"No, thanks,\" said Daisy. His face fell. \"It's all right, you don't have to tail me,\" she reassured him. \"I expect you're tired of lurking round corners and behind trees.\"\n\n\"I have to go wherever you go,\" he said stubbornly.\n\n\"I'm not going anywhere. Unless Sergeant Gilligan has absolutely written me off as a useful witness, he's bound to get around sometime to wanting me to look at his 'mug book,' don't you think? I'd better stay where he can find me.\"\n\n\"I guess so. But you shouldn't see him alone.\"\n\n\"Why on earth not?\"\n\n\"Gee whiz!\" Lambert ran his finger round inside his collar. \"Uh, well, after all, you were there when Carmody was killed, and you admitted to having held my gun, so your fingerprints would have been on it\u2014not that they checked and I've polished it since, of course, but they might wonder if you just made the admission to explain the fingerprints, and if I'm protecting you by saying it's mine and I had it when Carmody was killed, not forgetting that all they know about you is what I've told them, though it hasn't been fired of course, so even if it's the same caliber bullet, but who knows if the New York cops can figure out what kind of gun it's been fired from...\"\n\nDaisy rescued him from his entangled clauses. \"In short, you think they regard me as a suspect?\"\n\n\"They might.\"\n\n\"But I didn't do it,\" she reminded him, \"and I haven't done anything else nefarious which I need to conceal, unless you count taking a sip of Mr. Thorwald's revolting rye whiskey. So I have nothing to worry about.\"\n\n\"Maybe you wouldn't in England, but these are American cops, remember. With the election coming up, the D.A. needs to solve the case quick, and without involving Tammany.\"\n\n\"With the election coming up, the D.A. would be an absolute ass to try any funny business on the wife of a Scotland Yard detective in America on official business. Not to mention a writer whose publisher also puts out an opposition news weekly. I can imagine what our papers at home would make of that. I don't suppose yours would exactly ignore it.\"\n\n\"Gee whiz, I hadn't thought of it like that. I guess you're right.\"\n\n\"So I shall cooperate with Rosencrantz and Guildenstern...\"\n\n\"Who?\"\n\n\"Blast, I knew I was going to come out with that sooner or later! Oh well, better to you than to them.\"\n\n\"To who?\" Lambert asked blankly.\n\n\"Whom. Hamlet,\" Daisy explained, further bewildering him. \"Oh, never mind! I'll cooperate fully with the police and the district attorney when they get around to asking for my help. In the meantime, I'm going to see the Misses Cabot. I'll be perfectly safe with them, so there's absolutely no need for you to try to barge in.\"\n\nLambert shuddered. \"You won't catch me trying,\" he affirmed.\n\nDuring Daisy's stay, she had never seen the Misses Cabot early in the morning. She had assumed they were among the late risers. However, Kevin, that inexhaustible fount of information, told her they retired early and rose early, but breakfasted in their apartment suite. When she knocked on their door, Miss Genevieve's strong voice bade her enter.\n\n\"Good morning, I hope I'm not disturbing you.\"\n\n\"Good morning,\" Miss Cabot greeted her, \"not at all, Mrs. Fletcher, always happy...\"\n\nMiss Genevieve dispensed with such superfluities. Dropping the newspaper she was reading on top of a pile of others on the table, she said, \"Ah, Mrs. Fletcher, perhaps you can tell me what's going on? I quite expected to have received a visit from the police by now.\"\n\n\"I haven't seen any about this morning,\" said Daisy, \"except the man posted outside Carmody's room. I know they interviewed some of the staff last night. I gather they rather upset the chambermaid who attended Carmody.\"\n\n\"Oh dear, poor girl! Won't you sit down, Mrs. Fletcher?\"\n\n\"I suppose they will question all the staff first,\" said Miss Genevieve, discontented. \"If they can bully sufficient information out of them, they won't have to tackle the residents, who are better able to take care of themselves.\"\n\n\"They're bound to want to speak to you,\" Daisy soothed her. \"Someone is sure to tell them you are acquainted with most, if not all, of the hotel's guests.\"\n\n\"Tactfully put! You mean I'm a nosy old woman who makes a point of delving into everyone's business.\"\n\n\"That's what a gossip columnist is supposed to do. I'll mention it to them, if you like. I've been wondering what you know about Wilbur Pitt. You told me you saw him quarrelling with Carmody, and that he had written a novel. I'm inclined to believe he might have been Otis Carmody's cousin.\"\n\n\"Ha! Very likely. Their tiff had more the appearance of a family squabble than a fight between acquaintances. Mr. Pitt told me he comes from somewhere out west. Do you recall where he mentioned, sister?\"\n\n\"Ohio, I think, sister,\" said Miss Cabot, her forehead wrinkling in a doubtful frown. \"Or was it Omaha? Or Oregon? I'm sure it began with an O. Oh dear, or was it Idaho? That ends with an O, you know.\"\n\n\"Somewhere in the West,\" Miss Genevieve said impatiently. \"Pitt was the son of a farmer. He'd worked on the farm...\"\n\n\"Colorado!\" cried Miss Cabot. \"Or was it?\"\n\n\"... and also as a logger and miner. He has written a novel based on his experiences, and he brought the manuscript to New York to find a publisher.\"\n\n\"San Francisco?\"\n\n\"He'll be lucky to get an editor even to look at it,\" Miss Genevieve continued. \"A person of small education, as one might expect from his background. He need only open his mouth to be rejected.\"\n\n\"Poor chap.\" Daisy sympathized. She wanted to write a novel some day, but it was a dauntingly mammoth undertaking. \"I dare say he was trying to persuade his cousin to recommend him to an editor.\"\n\n\"I suppose,\" said Miss Cabot, \"it could have been Oklahoma?\"\n\n\"That's it!\" cried Miss Genevieve.\n\n\"I knew I should remember in the end, sister.\"\n\n\"Oh, no, not Oklahoma, sister. Mrs. Fletcher's surmise as to Pitt's business with Carmody.\"\n\n\"New Mexico?\" Miss Cabot proposed sadly and unhopefully.\n\n\"But Carmody wouldn't have been acquainted with the right kind of editor,\" Daisy went on, \"only Pitt didn't believe him and thought he was just being obnoxious when he refused to help. It hardly seems an adequate motive for murder, does it?\"\n\n\"There's plenty of passion goes into the writing of a novel,\" Miss Genevieve observed. \"Still, in my opinion, Carmody's demise is far more likely to have something to do with his wife. A pretty enough creature, of the fluttery butterfly sort which seems to appeal to many men and generally causes trouble of some kind.\"\n\n\"Oh dear!\"\n\n\"You mentioned that she had left him,\" Daisy prompted.\n\n\"Yes, since they arrived in New York. She went off with another man.\"\n\n\"Oh dear!\"\n\n\"The grass was greener, if you ask me. I did not speak to him, but he looked like a prosperous business-man of the more vulgar variety. Freelance writing is an uncertain profession, as you are aware, my dear Mrs. Fletcher, and rarely as remunerative as one might wish.\"\n\n\"Alas,\" said Miss Cabot for a change.\n\n\"If money was Mrs. Carmody's reason for leaving her husband,\" said Daisy, \"what do you suppose was Mr. Bender's reason for taking up with her? Did he genuinely fall in love with her?\"\n\n\"I should call it infatuation, rather,\" Miss Genevieve said tartly, \"though, to be fair, I may be mistaken. I have not, after all, spoken to him.\"\n\n\"Genevieve is never mistaken as to character once she has spoken to a person,\" put in Miss Cabot.\n\n\"However, infatuation may be as powerful a motive force as true love.\"\n\n\"Then if Bender wanted to marry Mrs. Carmody,\" Daisy suggested, \"and her husband stood in the way...\"\n\n\"I dare say he might hire someone to put him out of the way. I doubt he would perform the dreadful deed himself.\"\n\nDaisy remembered the horrified face of the man who had run off down the Flatiron stairs. She simply could not believe that a hired assassin would be so distraught at the result of carrying out his assignment. \"Would Bender be so inefficient as to hire a man who couldn't shoot straight?\" she wondered. \"The bullet didn't kill Carmody, just wounded him in the leg.\"\n\n\"True,\" Miss Genevieve mused. \"The papers say it was the fall that killed him, and the gunman could not have guaranteed that he would fall down the elevator shaft rather than backwards onto the floor.\"\n\n\"He might not have fallen at all. He was holding onto the gate when he was shot. If he had just kept his hold he would have been all right.\"\n\n\"Oh dear!\"\n\n\"Maybe the shot wasn't intended to kill,\" Daisy speculated. \"Couldn't it have been intended just to frighten him? As a threat of what might happen if he didn't cooperate in obtaining a divorce?\"\n\nMiss Genevieve frowned. \"Possibly. Otis Carmody did not strike me as a man easily frightened.\"\n\n\"On the contrary, but Bender might not have realized that. Not everyone has your gift for understanding character, Miss Genevieve.\"\n\n\"No gift, but an interest in people coupled with long experience of every variety of human being, down to the lowest dregs of society.\"\n\n\"Oh dear!\"\n\n\"The life would not have suited you, sister. To resume, Mrs. Carmody, however self-centred, must certainly have known her husband was not to be cowed. His work positively invited threats of retaliation. People are understandably averse to having their dirty linen washed in the headlines, and he offended powerful men.\"\n\n\"In some ways, he was an admirable man, wasn't he?\" Daisy acknowledged. \"Without courageous reporters like him dragging corruption into the daylight, it would self-perpetuate forever.\"\n\n\"A necessary breed, as I said, which doesn't make Carmody any more likable.\"\n\nDaisy sighed. \"No, but it does make me think I'm on altogether the wrong track. Rather than a personal motive, it seems far more likely that one of the people he was investigating here in New York meant to warn him off, and it went wrong. He wasn't supposed to be killed at all.\"\n\n\"Tammany won't be happy,\" said Miss Genevieve with glee. \"Didn't I say they were mixed up in it? A homicide is much harder to sweep under the carpet than mere assault. But no doubt the police will manage it, unless someone keeps on their tail. I'm going downstairs.\" Both hands on the table, she levered herself to her feet and reached for her cane.\n\n\"Oh, sister,\" wailed Miss Cabot, \"you can't fight City Hall singlehanded!\"\n\n\"Maybe not, but City Hall and Tammany Hall are not quite synonymous, and there's an election coming up. What's more, I haven't completely lost touch with everyone I used to know. Come along, Ernestine.\"\n\n\"Oh dear, oh dear!\"\n\n\"Miss Genevieve, you needn't worry about Tammany Hall having things all their own way,\" Daisy intervened. \"Remember, I told you the Justice Department is sending an agent.\"\n\n\"My dear Mrs. Fletcher, you can only have learned that from the police. A few of them are cunning enough to talk as if it were a done deed in order to mislead anyone who might think of calling in the feds. I shall not take it as fact until I see the agent with my own eyes.\"\n\n\"Detective Chief Inspector Fletcher, sister,\" murmured Miss Cabot, \"of Scotland Yard!\"\n\n\"Of course, how clever of you, sister.\"\n\nMiss Cabot blushed, beaming. \"I just wondered, sister, whether perhaps...\"\n\n\"Mr. Fletcher must have told Mrs. Fletcher an agent was being sent from Washington.\"\n\n\"Dare we hope, Mrs. Fletcher,\" said Miss Cabot hopefully, \"that Mr. Fletcher will rush to your side? I should so like to meet a Scotland Yard detective.\"\n\n\"Yes, as a matter of fact, he's taking a train this afternoon. I'll be happy to introduce him to you.\"\n\n\"Oh, sister!\"\n\n\"We shall naturally be delighted to receive Mr. Fletcher,\" said Miss Genevieve, \"but at this moment, I'm going down to the lobby to be sure of catching the New York detectives.\"\n\n\"I'll come with you,\" said Daisy.\n\nLambert was seated in the lobby. Anyone but Daisy would have assumed he was reading the New York Times, but she knew he was just hiding behind it to keep an anxious eye on the exit in case she tried to evade him. He visibly relaxed when she appeared.\n\nAs Miss Genevieve stumped past him on her way to her favourite seat, she observed loudly, \"Has that young man no business to attend to?\"\n\nBlushing, the federal agent shrank behind his newspaper.\n\nMiss Cabot had brought her knitting, one of a pair of mittens, and while they awaited events she explained to Daisy how she created the snowflake pattern. Daisy hoped she looked as if she were listening. Actually, she was recalling the reasons Lambert had given why the police might suspect her of shooting Carmody. Now that her second meeting with Sergeant Gilligan was surely imminent, her nerves were twitching. She was quite glad to have the redoubtable Miss Genevieve at her side.\n\nThey did not have long to wait. Gilligan arrived, followed through the swinging doors by his retinue, Detective O'Rourke and the large plainclothesman, whose name Daisy thought was Larssen.\n\nGilligan marched straight towards the reception desk, but O'Rourke scanned the lobby, saw Daisy, and tapped the sergeant on the shoulder. \"There's the dame we want, Sergeant,\" Daisy heard him say.\n\n\"The lady, O'Rourke, the lady!\" Gilligan snapped. \"Let's remember the lady's husband is one of the higher-ups 'over there.'\" He advanced on Daisy with a would-be ingratiating smile. Someone must have given him an exaggerated idea of Alec's importance. \"Good morning, ma'am.\"\n\nBefore Daisy could respond, Miss Genevieve put her oar in: \"So you made sergeant at last, Gilligan!\"\n\nGilligan swung towards her, his expression changing to one of dismay amounting almost to alarm. \"Miss Cabot? Rats!\" he muttered.\n\n\"Miss Genevieve, if you please. My sister is Miss Cabot.\" She waved regally.\n\n\"Delighted, I'm sure,\" twittered Miss Cabot.\n\n\"Don't tell me they've put you in charge of the investigation into Otis Carmody's death?\"\n\nThe sergeant bridled but sounded resigned. \"Yes, ma'am. At least, the D.A.'s Office is on the case, too.\"\n\n\"And the Justice Department, I hear.\"\n\n\"That isn't in the papers!\" Gilligan scowled at Daisy.\n\n\"Not yet,\" said Miss Genevieve pointedly, \"but I'm still in the business, you know. I keep my ear to the ground. I hear things.\"\n\n\"Rats!\"\n\nMiss Genevieve's smile made Daisy think of a Cheshire cat with stolen cream on its whiskers. \"I'm not on the crime beat any longer, to be sure. I have no obligation to turn over what I find out to an editor.\"\n\n\"I guess not, ma'am.\"\n\n\"At present I'm inclined to keep my knowledge to myself, for the sake of my young friend, Mrs. Fletcher. Of course, I may change my mind.\"\n\nDaisy did not rate Gilligan high on the evolutionary ladder, but a hint so broad was not beyond his comprehension.\n\n\"There's sure no need to change your mind, Miss Genevieve, no reason at all. I just wanna go over what Mrs. Fletcher saw again, case maybe she's remembered sumpin else, and then we'll go downtown so she can check out the mug book.\"\n\n\"Oh no!\" said Miss Genevieve sharply. \"Police headquarters is no place for a gently bred young lady.\"\n\n\"Sure ain't!\" Larssen agreed.\n\nThe sergeant glared at him. \"O.K., Larssen, you can go get the book, pronto. And make it snappy.\"\n\nAs the blond giant hurried off, looking martyred, Gilligan glanced around the lobby. It wasn't exactly busy, but a few people were coming and going, and Kevin was leaning against the wall at the corner near his elevator, keeping a watchful eye on proceedings.\n\n\"This is too public,\" Gilligan grunted. \"We'll go up to your room, Mrs. Fletcher.\"\n\n\"Oh no!\" Miss Genevieve objected again. A glint in her eye, she went on with a primness quite foreign to her, \"Most improper, Sergeant. Mrs. Fletcher may be a married woman, but she is young and pretty.\"\n\n\"Spare my blushes!\" Daisy uttered, trying not to laugh.\n\nShe wasn't at all surprised when Miss Genevieve next suggested, in a tone as martyred as Larssen's face had been, \"You'd better all come up to our suite, I guess, so that Ernestine and I can play chaperon.\"\n\n\"Geez, save me from nosy old maids!\" Gilligan muttered, obviously no more deceived than Daisy. Thoroughly disgruntled, he gave in. \"O.K., your place, then, if that's the way you wannit. Course, I'll hafta bring my other witness along. Hey, you, Lambert! I wanna word with you.\"\n\n\"Oh dear,\" said Miss Cabot, at last breaking her appalled silence.\n\nMiss Genevieve was momentarily disconcerted. However, by the time Gilligan gave her a sly glance to see how she reacted to his adding Lambert to her invitation to her suite, she looked intrigued.\n\nDisappointed, he turned back to Lambert, who stammered, \"Who, me?\"\u2014apparently his standard response when addressed unexpectedly.\n\n\"You gotta twin brother?\" Gilligan asked nastily.\n\nAs Lambert jumped up and came over, Miss Genevieve said to Daisy, \"That young nonentity was a witness, too? What a coincidence! I suppose he was also visiting an editor, though he failed to mention to me any ambition in the writing line.\" She bent a severe frown upon him.\n\n\"Excuse me, ma'am,\" he apologized. \"I don't want to intrude...\"\n\n\"Come on, come on,\" Gilligan interrupted. \"Let's get this show on the road.\"\n\nAt Miss Genevieve's halting pace, which slowed deliberately when Gilligan started to chivvy, they went across to the elevators. Kevin jumped to attention.\n\n\"Going up?\" he asked eagerly, no doubt hoping to glean a few grains of information.\n\nO'Rourke opened his mouth for the first time. \"This here's the young shaver that his sister was chambermaid to Carmody, Sergeant.\"\n\n\"That right? Gave you some trouble, din't he?\"\n\n\"He didn't have to put the screws on, Sarge! Bridey tole him everything right off.\"\n\n\"Doncha get fresh with me,\" Gilligan snarled, reaching out to cuff the boy.\n\nDaisy put her hand on his arm. \"I'm sure he's only telling the truth, Sergeant. Bridget was eager to put her knowledge at the service of the police.\"\n\n\"Oh yeah?\" He stared at her. \"Whadda you know about it?\"\n\n\"She's my chambermaid, too.\"\n\n\"That don't mean...\"\n\n\"Come on, come on, Sergeant!\" said Miss Genevieve, who with her sister had entered the lift by now. \"Let's get this show on the road.\"\n\n\"Aw, the heck with it!\" Gilligan surrendered, to Daisy's relief. She didn't want him delving into just how much Bridget had told her.\n\n\"Third floor, please, Kevin,\" she said, joining the Misses Cabot.\n\n\"Going up!\" he said in his usual jaunty manner and winked at her. The men crowded in after her and Kevin shut the gates with a double clang.\n\n\"Geez, I'm glad Larssen ain't in here, too,\" said O'Rourke as the laden lift creaked upward.\n\n\"The other detective?\" ventured Lambert, squeezed into a corner. \"Where did he go?\"\n\n\"To get the mug book,\" Daisy informed him, \"so that you and I can try to identify the fugitive.\"\n\n\"I never saw him! I swear, Sergeant, I never saw his face!\"\n\n\"Then you won't reckernize any of the shots, will you?\" Gilligan grunted.\n\n\"Third floor,\" Kevin announced.\n\nThe Misses Cabot's sitting room was large enough to accommodate everyone easily, but by no means large enough to afford Gilligan any privacy he might have hoped for. Miss Genevieve, installed by the fireplace, listened avidly to every word as he took Daisy through her evidence again. This time he started with the overheard argument.\n\n\"Word for word, near as you can remember, including the rude word the dame used.\"\n\n\"Cover your ears, sister,\" advised Miss Genevieve, making no move to cover her own.\n\n\"'You bastard,'\" said Daisy, \"'I wouldn't come back to you if you made a million dollars.' Then Carmody said, 'If I made a million dollars, you still wouldn't squeeze one red cent out of me.' More or less.\"\n\n\"He said, 'More or less'?\"\n\n\"No, Sergeant, I say that's more or less what they said.\"\n\n\"More or less!\" said Gilligan in disgust. \"It can'ta been Carmody, though, it was this guy Bender he was blackmailing said that.\"\n\n\"I still think it was Carmody,\" Daisy persisted.\n\n\"Sure, more or less!\" the sergeant jeered.\n\nDaisy wanted to point out that, considering what Bridget had overheard, it made perfect sense for Carmody to have been the speaker. But she didn't want to get the chambermaid into hot water. Besides, Gilligan had probably bullied the poor girl into changing her story to fit his preconceived notions.\n\nMiss Genevieve put her oar in. \"You believe Carmody was blackmailing Mr. Bender?\" she asked.\n\n\"Sure thing!\" said Gilligan. \"There's enough stuff in Carmody's papers up in his room to worry Barton Bender plenty.\"\n\n\"Such as?\"\n\nIn the face of Miss Genevieve's scepticism, the sergeant was too eager to prove his point to remember discretion. \"He owns a whole lotta tenements, slum property, that he's been paying off the city inspectors not to see they're falling down. Not that that's any big deal,\" he added hastily.\n\nThe inspectors must be Tammany appointees, like Gilligan, Daisy guessed.\n\n\"His tenants don't like it, they can go somewhere else.\" Miss Genevieve's sarcasm was obvious.\n\n\"Yeah, and he ain't above encouraging 'em. Gotta gang of hoodlums he sends round to evict troublemakers, and he don't care who gets hurt. Well, troublemakers, I got no beef with that, but them that's a bit behind with the rent... The public don't like reading about widders and orphans getting roughed up. That gets in the papers, the Police Department's gonna sit up and take notice.\"\n\n\"I should hope so!\" Daisy exclaimed.\n\nGilligan shrugged. \"It's a free country.\"\n\n\"Sister, may I remove my hands from my ears now?\" Miss Cabot asked plaintively.\n\nWith an impatient nod to her sister, Miss Genevieve said, \"Unpleasant, but I can't see Bender killing to save his reputation. Isn't he wealthy enough to hire the best lawyers, and to pay his toughs to take the rap without splitting on him? Murder is a whole different ball-game. It would raise the stakes too high for his liking.\"\n\n\"You been talking to the guy?\" Gilligan demanded.\n\n\"No, but that sort of person generally runs true to type. You've talked to him, what did you think of him?\" She paused. \"You have talked to him, haven't you, Sergeant?\"\n\n\"No,\" Gilligan admitted sourly. \"I didn't get to Carmody's room till last night. Bender was out\u2014some nightclub his housekeeper said, she didn't know where. I left a man to watch, but he didn't come home. I guess he musta gone on to Mrs. Carmody's hotel room, and we ain't got a line on that yet. I got men out going round the hotels. But messing with his tenants ain't all Carmody had on him.\"\n\n\"No?\"\n\n\"There's some funny business with mortgage loans on his properties. I turned it over to our fraud people. If it's what it looks like to me, he'll go down for a stretch anyways, even we can't pin the murder on him\u2014though I ain't giving up on that, not by a long shot!\"\n\n\"You'd do better to stick to what Carmody was digging out about Tammany's business,\" Miss Genevieve declared. \"What did you find in his papers on that subject?\"\n\nGilligan turned sullen. \"You know I can't discuss evidence. Give a dame an inch and she wants all hell. I didn't oughta've told you nuttin and I ain't gonna tell no more.\"\n\nMiss Genevieve had already induced the detective to reveal far more than Daisy would have dared hope for. \"Eugene Cannon\" must have been a first-rate crime reporter. Daisy hadn't had to lift a finger to obtain masses of information about Carmody's wife and her lover. She wished she could meet them. One learnt so much by actually talking to a person, but at least she had plenty of food for thought.\n\nLeisure for thought she had not.\n\n\"O.K., let's get on with your story, Mrs. Fletcher,\" Gilligan growled. \"Maybe you'll remember sumpin useful this time around.\"\n\nWhen Daisy reached the point in her story where Lambert irrupted onto the scene of the crime brandishing a pistol, Miss Genevieve glanced at the young man with a new interest. Possibly, her look said, he might be worthy of further acquaintance. His subsequent downing at the hands of Mr. Thorwald brought a snort of disbelief.\n\n\"Sigurd Thorwald tackled him? I remember him as a copy-boy, and he was pedantic old fusspot even then. He brought down that great lummox? There's more to the old geezer than I thought, and even less to the young one.\"\n\n\"I didn't expect him to jump me,\" Lambert said sulkily. \"Besides, I lost my glasses.\"\n\n\"And your gun,\" said Daisy, \"which I caught, by a miracle.\" She was about to continue when someone knocked at the door.\n\n\"Oh dear,\" said Miss Cabot, dropping her knitting, \"who can that be? Were we expecting visitors this morning, sister?\"\n\n\"Whatever our expectations, sister, we seem to have collected quite a crowd,\" observed Miss Genevieve, as Detective O'Rourke, who had remained standing in the archway to the foyer, turned to open the door. \"The more, the merrier. Who is it?\" she called. \"Come in, come in!\"\n\n\"Sorry to disturb you, ma'am. The elevator boy told me Detective Sergeant Gilligan is here.\"\n\n\"Who... ? Oh, young Rosenblatt! You followed in your father's footsteps, didn't you? I'll never forget the time he brought you into court\u2014eleven or twelve, you were\u2014\"\n\n\"Please, ma'am!\"\n\nMiss Genevieve grinned maliciously. \"Oho, we mustn't upset your dignity. You're on the Carmody case, I take it, looking out for Tammany's interests.\"\n\n\"Looking out for a murderer,\" Rosenblatt corrected her. \"We have to clear this up before the election. It would be almost as bad to have the Press saying we're incompetent as to have Tammany involved. Which they aren't,\" he hastened to add.\n\n\"Well, then, you'd better get on with it. Don't mind me.\"\n\nRosenblatt nervously smoothed his sleek, fair hair, thinning a little on top. \"Good morning, Miss Cabot, Mrs. Fletcher,\" he said, with a curt nod for Lambert. \"Sergeant? What's going on?\"\n\n\"I was gonna take another look at Carmody's room, sir, and then escort Mrs. Fletcher downtown personal, her being a foreigner. But Miss Genevieve said...\"\n\n\"O.K, O.K.!\"\n\n\"Detective Larssen went to get the mug book, and I was just going over Mrs. Fletcher's story with her, see if she come up with sumpin new.\"\n\n\"Go ahead.\"\n\nDaisy went ahead. The only detail she was able to add to her previous description of the fugitive was that she rather thought he had been wearing an overcoat.\n\n\"Colour?\" asked Gilligan.\n\n\"Not black,\" said Daisy, \"and not that new shade of blue that's so fashionable at the moment. I suppose it must have been brown or grey. Or navy, possibly. No, not navy.\"\n\n\"Not navy! That's a great help,\" Rosenblatt said sarcastically.\n\n\"So we gotta look out for a man in a derby and a brown or grey overcoat. How many d'ya figure there are in Noo York, Mr. Rosenblatt?\"\n\n\"It might have been a disguise,\" proposed Lambert.\n\nRosencrantz and Guildenstern looked at him in silent disgust.\n\n\"Yeah, sure. You come up with any new ideas about where the shot came from, Mrs. Fletcher? It coulda come from behind you?\"\n\n\"Yes, but not from Mr. Thorwald. He was quite close to me. I'm sure I'd have known if he had fired.\"\n\n\"Even if his gun had a silencer?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Daisy, with somewhat less certainty.\n\n\"Thorwald!\" Miss Genevieve exclaimed scornfully. \"Talk about clutching at straws. That man wouldn't have the guts to... though he did tackle Lambert,\" she reminded herself. \"Still, what possible motive could Thorwald have?\"\n\n\"He was with me for at least an hour beforehand,\" Daisy pointed out. \"He had no reason to know Carmody would be there. Carmody worked for Pascoli, not Mr. Thorwald.\"\n\n\"No interest in politics,\" Miss Genevieve confirmed. \"Words were always his passion, 'Words, words, words,' no matter what the matter.\"\n\nGilligan gazed at her blankly. \"A word's a word. You mean Thorwald had words with Carmody?\"\n\n\"No, Sergeant, I mean nothing of the sort.\"\n\n\"Sergeant Gilligan,\" Rosenblatt broke in, \"you better check with Pascoli whether Thorwald had anything to do with Carmody or expressed any interest, but I'd say you're barking up the wrong tree. Mr. Lambert's another matter.\" He turned to Lambert, who shrank.\n\n\"It wasn't me!\"\n\n\"Maybe it wasn't, but there's this Washington connection we have to follow up. I've put in a telephone call to Washington to check your credentials.\"\n\nLambert looked relieved. \"Oh, that's O.K. then.\"\n\n\"I'm afraid not, not the way things have been in D.C. One of the Harding crowd Carmody blew the whistle on could have hired you to put him away and used his own or his pals' influence to get you taken on as an agent, for cover.\"\n\n\"I can't help feeling,\" Daisy murmured, \"that they would have chosen someone with decent eyesight and a better aim.\"\n\n\"It wasn't like that at all,\" Lambert protested. \"My dad's in insurance, see, and I didn't want to go into insurance. I always wanted to be a federal agent, ever since I was a kid. My dad knows Mr. Hoover, so he...\"\n\n\"Pulled strings. Yeah, maybe, but it'll all have to be checked out, which could take a while. I'll have to ask you not to leave New York, Mr. Lambert, and to notify me or Sergeant Gilligan if you move from this hotel.\"\n\n\"Oh, I don't mind doing that. I can't leave before Mr. Fletcher gets here, anyway.\"\n\n\"What?\" demanded Miss Genevieve. \"Why not?\"\n\nDaisy hastened to explain before anyone else could get their version in. \"I've been involved in one or two\u2014well, maybe three or four\u2014of my husband's cases. Apparently his superiors at the Yard saw fit to advise Mr. Hoover to set a watchdog onto me to make sure I didn't get mixed up in anything over here.\"\n\n\"In vain!\" Miss Genevieve clapped her hands. \"My dear Mrs. Fletcher, I just knew we were kindred souls. One of these days, you must tell me all about everything. But right now, I have to say the role of watchdog seems to me far more appropriate for Mr. Lambert than that of hired assassin.\"\n\nEveryone stared at Lambert. His ears turned red and he looked like an overgrown schoolboy.\n\n\"Yeah, sure,\" said Gilligan in disgust. \"O.K., let's have what you saw and heard over again. Maybe if you think real hard, you'll remember noticing sumpin Mrs. Fletcher didn't. Or even think of some other guy that coulda a croaked Carmody.\"\n\n\"Orlando,\" interrupted Miss Cabot. \"Orlando, sister?\"\n\n\"Who's this bird Orlando?\" asked the sergeant suspiciously. \"Sounds like an Eyetie, like that Pascoli. I figured he was in it someplace. You know sumpin we don't, ma'am?\"\n\n\"Orlando,\" Miss Genevieve announced, \"is a city in Florida. Which is south of New York, not in the West.\"\n\nGilligan was indignant. \"I know where Florida is!\"\n\n\"I dare say.\" Miss Genevieve sounded not altogether convinced. \"However, the latter part of my remark was addressed to my sister. She has been trying to recall where Mr. Pitt told us he comes from.\"\n\n\"The guy that had an argument with Carmody in the lobby? What he put in the register's Eugene City, Oregon. That's a hick town out west someplace, I guess.\"\n\n\"Oregon is just south of Washington,\" said Rosenblatt.\n\n\"That right, sir? Coulda swore it was out west someplace.\"\n\n\"The state of Washington, not D.C.,\" the Deputy D.A. explained impatiently. \"Miss Genevieve, may I ask why Wilbur Pitt should have told you where he came from?\"\n\n\"The subject arose naturally in relation to his literary opus, which I understood to be a more or less fictionalized version of his life in the wilds of the West.\"\n\n\"He was a cowboy?\" asked Gilligan with sudden interest. \"That'd explain why he was packing heat.\"\n\nDaisy must have looked completely blank, because Lambert leaned over to whisper, \"Carrying a gun.\"\n\n\"Was he?\" Miss Genevieve wanted to know.\n\n\"Geez, ma'am, how could he of shot Carmody if he wasn't?\"\n\n\"You have no reason to suppose he did shoot Carmody. As it happens he had been a farmer, logger, and miner, leading, as far as I could gather, a life of considerable hardship and singular dullness.\"\n\n\"Rats! What did he have to write a book about, then?\"\n\n\"Not much. He described it as Proustian.\"\n\n\"Huh?\"\n\n\"Since he can hardly have meant that it concerns the doings of Parisian high society, I imagine he referred to Proust's custom of describing objects and sensations in obsessively minute detail.\"\n\nDaisy was impressed. She had once tackled Proust but given up after a very few pages.\n\n\"Geez, an intellectooal!\" said Gilligan dismissively.\n\n\"So you don't believe Carmody's cousin was involved, Sergeant? I'm inclined to...\"\n\n\"Wait a minute,\" Rosenblatt interrupted. \"He told you he was Carmody's cousin?\"\n\n\"Not exactly,\" Miss Genevieve said cautiously, \"but I certainly have the impression they were related.\"\n\n\"You didn't tell me that, Sergeant! What did Pitt have to say for himself?\"\n\n\"I ain't grilled him yet, sir.\" He cast an accusing glare at Miss Genevieve's bland face. \"I didn't know they was cousins, so we ain't been looking for him pertickler. He's not the only guy had a beef with Carmody, not by a long shot.\"\n\nDaisy couldn't help thinking that if she could work out, from Bridget's report of the quarrel, that the men were related, the detective should have done likewise. It was his job, after all. Maybe he'd been sidetracked by assuming that Willie was William, not Wilbur, she thought charitably, but he ought at least to have been looking for a relative.\n\n\"How right you are, Sergeant,\" said Miss Genevieve affably. \"Wilbur Pitt was by no means the only person to dislike Carmody, and many had far better reason to hate his guts.\"\n\n\"Oh sister!\"\n\n\"Don't be so mealy-mouthed, sister, or cover your ears again.\"\n\n\"Oh dear!\"\n\n\"If you want my opinion, young man,\" Miss Genevieve continued in the serene certainty that Rosenblatt was going to listen, willy-nilly, \"this homicide has all the hallmarks of an attempt to warn Carmody off, which went wrong. Which of the Tammany bosses did he have his claws into?\"\n\nDaisy listened in admiration as the ex-crime reporter winkled the information she wanted out of the reluctant Deputy District Attorney. All Carmody's notes on his investigations had been found in his room, and Rosenblatt ended up telling Miss Genevieve exactly who was named in those papers. However, all the names were unfamiliar to Daisy, and she soon lost interest in the subsequent discussion of who was most likely to have sent a thug to scare Carmody off.\n\nSergeant Gilligan wasn't listening either. He had proceeded with his original intent to take Lambert through his story again. Unfortunately, Lambert had been thinking.\n\n\"And I think, just before Mr. Thorwald knocked off my glasses, I noticed the man Mrs. Fletcher was running after wasn't wearing an overcoat. He just had a short coat, a suit coat or sport coat, I guess.\"\n\n\"I think he had on an overcoat,\" said Daisy. \"But you ain't neither of you one hundred percent sure,\" Gilligan snarled, throwing down his hopefully poised pencil. \"Could this guy maybe have been wearing a short overcoat, like an automobile coat?\"\n\n\"Maybe,\" Daisy and Lambert chorused doubtfully.\n\n\"Aw, what the heck! It wouldn't help much anyways 'less you was both dead certain he was running around in scarlet pajamas.\"\n\nDaisy had to stifle a giggle at a vision of a man strolling through the streets in scarlet pyjamas and a bowler hat.\n\n\"In that case,\" said Lambert seriously, \"he would have changed before leaving the building, or he would definitely have been noticed.\"\n\n\"You don't say! Wise guy!\"\n\n\"Since he wasn't wearing scarlet pyjamas,\" Daisy said soothingly, \"we don't need to worry about it. But do you know, now I come to think of it, I'm sure he was wearing boots, not shoes. He made too much noise on the stairs for ordinary shoes.\"\n\n\"Whaddaya know?\" marvelled Gilligan. \"What we gotta find is a guy in a derby and boots that prob'ly left Noo York City on the first train.\"\n\n\"If he crossed state lines to escape prosecution for homicide,\" Lambert pointed out with undeterred enthusiasm, \"it's a federal offence and you can call us in.\"\n\n\"Just what I need, another bunch of gover'ment men muscling in on my case. You just ferget what I said about trains, bud. I'm gonna solve this business right here on home territory, and before the election next week. I'm not about to let the Hearst papers make any more cracks about the boys in blue. Where the heck is Larssen with that mug book?\"\n\nHe went off to confer with Detective O'Rourke.\n\n\"What are the Hearst papers?\" Daisy asked Lambert. \"Someone mentioned them before.\"\n\n\"Geez, I don't know that much about it. I guess it's local politics.\"\n\nMiss Genevieve had caught Daisy's question and interrupted a vigorous argument with Rosenblatt to answer it. \"William Randolph Hearst is the proprietor of numerous major newspapers including some in New York, not to mention the International News Service, and a company producing 'news reels' for movie theaters.\"\n\n\"Oh yes, I believe he owns several English magazines.\"\n\n\"Very likely. He is also a Democratic politician, but he is bitterly opposed to the way Tammany Hall runs New York. Partly pique, of course. He stood for mayor of the city and governor of the state but lost the elections, and later failed even to win the Democratic nomination for governor. His papers regularly sensationalize anything they can find to the detriment of Tammany. He'd have been delighted with the course of Carmody's investigations.\"\n\n\"I'm surprised Carmody took his information to Mr. Pascoli, then,\" Daisy said. \"Town Talk doesn't belong to Mr. Hearst, does it? I'm pretty sure he doesn't own Abroad.\"\n\n\"No. I shouldn't be surprised if Hearst's political passions overcame his instinct for a scoop and he encouraged Carmody to disseminate his dirt as widely as possible. Besides, a weekly has a different readership from a daily, and goes into more depth, rather than concentrating on sensation.\"\n\n\"Or maybe Carmody was double-crossing Hearst,\" Rosenblatt suggested. \"Maybe he had promised Hearst an exclusive and went behind his back to Pascoli. Hearst wouldn't take kindly to that.\"\n\n\"But I hardly think he'd resort to physical means to show Carmody the error of his ways,\" Miss Genevieve retorted. \"All he had to do to retaliate was stop Carmody ever writing again for any of his publications. You can't get Tammany off the hook so easily.\"\n\nShe and the Deputy D.A. resumed their argument about the likelihood of each of Carmody's targets having sent a thug to dissuade him from publishing his discoveries.\n\nMeanwhile Gilligan had sent O'Rourke off on some errand. He returned to Daisy and Lambert. Whereas he would probably have responded to a question with a justifiable refusal to say where the detective had gone, he succumbed without a struggle to Daisy's enquiring look.\n\n\"Sent him to see if Pitt's in, and if not, to search his room. That's off the record.\" Glowering at the oblivious Rosenblatt, he complained, \"Geez, I'd never get nuttin done was I to follow every nitpicking rule. I can't do everything all at once. First you gotta figure out who the suspects are and then you gotta find 'em.\"\n\n\"And it's less than twenty-four hours since Carmody died,\" said Daisy sympathetically. \"Besides, you seem to have a huge cast of suspects.\"\n\n\"Yeah. Me, I wouldn't put this bird Pitt among 'em. I mean, who's gonna start shooting over a bunch of bits of paper with words scribbled on 'em?\"\n\nDaisy rather thought words on paper had started more than one war, though she couldn't call to mind any precise instance. In any case, Pitt's reminiscences seemed unlikely to contain anything inflammatory, and if they did, Carmody would have shot him, not vice versa.\n\nOn the other hand... But her reflections were interrupted by a knock on the door and Miss Cabot's inevitable \"Oh dear!\"\n\nGilligan jumped up. \"I'll get it, ma'am. That better be Larssen or... Hey, where you bin, Larssen?\"\n\n\"Downtown to get the mug book, Sergeant. You sent me, remember?\"\n\n\"Smart-ass! You wanna get busted back to patrolman? O.K., Mrs. Fletcher, Lambert, lessee can you pick out the guy you saw.\"\n\n\"Me?\" Lambert protested. \"I didn't see his face.\"\n\n\"Maybe sumpin'll jog your memory.\" Gilligan took the heavy tome over to Miss Genevieve's desk.\n\nDaisy sat down at the desk, with Lambert leaning over her shoulder. They studied lean, mean faces and broad, brutal faces, coldly intelligent or piggishly stupid, some smooth-shaven, some with several days' growth of beard. Several were nondescript, but not in quite the same way the man on the stairs had been nondescript, Daisy was sure. She tried to picture each topped with a bowler hat.\n\nHer concentration was not assisted by Lambert's mutinous mutter in her ear, over and over: \"But I didn't see his face.\"\n\nThey were nearing the end of the book when again there came a knocking at the door, a peremptory rat-tat-tat.\n\n\"O'Rourke's found sumpin!\" said Gilligan hopefully, striding towards the foyer as Larssen opened the door.\n\nDaisy heard a babble of voices, one shrill and female and vaguely familiar. She and Lambert turned to watch the sergeant.\n\n\"Who... ? What... ?\" he said in bewilderment.\n\n\"Patrolman Hicks, Sergeant. I nabbed 'em,\" a proud voice announced. \"They was trying to sneak into Carmody's room!\"\n\nSergeant Gilligan backed into the Cabots' sitting room. After him swirled a petite woman in a scarlet coat trimmed with white fur, and a scarlet cloche with white feathers\u2014definitely the hat Daisy had seen going down in the lift. Her scolding voice Daisy identified as belonging to the woman who had shouted at Carmody. Framed by the luxurious fur, her delicate features were twisted now in anger, but expertly made up and probably very pretty when good tempered, or in repose. She carried a large lizard-skin handbag, no doubt full of cosmetics.\n\nHalf a pace behind her came a man in a calf-length grey overcoat with an astrakhan collar. Of middle height, he had a plump, overfed face presently greasy with sweat. He was worried, even afraid. The hat he carried was a homburg, not a bowler, Daisy noted.\n\nBehind the pair towered Patrolman Hicks, beaming. He was the uniformed policeman Daisy had last seen, looking bored, idly strolling along the passage outside her hotel room.\n\n\"This is an outrage!\" screeched the woman.\n\nRosenblatt moved forward. \"What's going on? I'm Rosenblatt, Deputy District Attorney in charge of the Carmody case,\" he explained when the couple and the patrolman all looked at him askance. \"What's up, ma'am?\"\n\nThey all started talking at once.\n\n\"I was guarding Carmody's door, sir,\" Hicks reported, saluting, \"like I was sent to, and...\"\n\n\"I am Otis Carmody's wife,\" Mrs. Carmody affirmed icily. \"I just wanted to retrieve...\"\n\n\"Don't say another word, honey baby,\" bleated her gentleman friend, presumably Barton Bender. \"I'll telephone my...\"\n\n\"Hold it, hold it!\" said Rosenblatt. \"There's no need for lawyers, sir. I'm not planning anything but a friendly little chat here. Excuse me, ma'am, I better take the patrolman's report first so he can go back to his post.\"\n\n\"I was guarding Carmody's room, sir,\" Hicks repeated stolidly, \"like I was sent to, and these guys come along and the dame takes a key outta her purse and sticks it in the keyhole and starts to turn it. So I tells 'em the room's closed by police orders for investigation of a homicide and I gotta take 'em down to Centre Street. I says nice and polite they can come quiet or I can get out the cuffs, and they come all right but quiet ain't the word! Geez, that dame that looks like a wind'd blow her away ain't never stopped cussing me out since... O.K., sir, I guess you don' wanna hear all that.\"\n\n\"You can write it all down in your report. How did you end up here instead of headquarters?\"\n\n\"The elevator boy tol' me Sergeant Gilligan's here, sir.\"\n\n\"And what I want to know,\" put in the sergeant, \"is how come the key was already in the lock when you stopped 'em if you was standing guard?\"\n\n\"Geez, Sergeant,\" said Hicks with an injured look, \"if I'd've stood right by the door alla time, there wouldn't no one have tried to get in. They'd've seen me and turned around right when they stepped out of the elevator and gone back down and we wouldn't never have knowed who they was. I went a ways along the corridor and waited where they couldn't see me but I could keep an eye on things, see.\"\n\nIn the linen room\u2014Daisy was prepared to bet\u2014chatting with Bridget.\n\n\"O.K.,\" Gilligan said grudgingly, \"you done good, I guess. You better get back up there pronto before someone else tries it on.\"\n\n\"Did anyone else have a key to your husband's room that you know of, ma'am?\" Rosenblatt asked.\n\n\"Not that I know of.\" Mrs. Carmody blinked hard and dabbed at her eyes with a corner of a lacy handkerchief, careful not to blot her eye-black. \"Oh, this is all so turrible! You must think I'm awful, telling off that poor policeman when he was only doing his dooty, but this has all been turribly hard on my nerves.\"\n\n\"Won't you sit down and tell me about it, ma'am?\"\n\nRosenblatt ushered Mrs. Carmody to the far end of the room from the desk where Daisy sat, to her annoyance. The woman didn't seem to notice the presence of unofficial others, too busy wiping away tears, real or pretended.\n\nBender, however, glanced around the room and scowled. He opened his mouth as if to protest but thought better of it. Gem-laden gold rings flashed on his plump fingers as he took a large, purple-monogrammed handkerchief from his pocket and blotted his forehead. He hung his homburg on the hat rack in the foyer, then took off his overcoat, revealing a corpulent figure clad in a suit of grey-and-lavender check, and a purple bow tie with a flashy diamond pin.\n\nMeekly, he followed his honey baby.\n\nGilligan went after them. As soon as all four had their backs turned, Daisy abandoned the mug book and Lambert, and tiptoed swiftly across to the Misses Cabot, who were much closer to the scene of the action. She sat down in the chair vacated by Rosenblatt.\n\nMiss Cabot leaned towards her, about to speak. Miss Genevieve put her finger to her lips.\n\nMiss Cabot mouthed a silent \"oh dear!\" Her knitting needles clicked on.\n\n\"Such a turrible shock,\" Mrs. Carmody was saying, as she sank gracefully into the chair Rosenblatt held for her, \"finding out in the papers this morning Otis was dead.\"\n\n\"We tried to notify you last night at your hotel, ma'am,\" said Rosenblatt, \"and again this morning. You weren't there.\"\n\n\"We went to a party, me and Mr. Bender, that didn't break up till daylight. He persuaded me to take a drive out in the country and get breakfast.\"\n\n\"Where was that, sir?\"\n\n\"What does it matter?\" Bender blustered. \"The papers said Carmody was shot at midday yesterday.\"\n\n\"So what's the big deal?\" Gilligan demanded. \"Whaddaya got against telling Mr. Rosenblatt where you was this morning?\"\n\n\"I don't know exactly. We went with a crowd, in a caravan. I just followed along.\"\n\n\"Who else was there?\" Rosenblatt asked.\n\n\"Uh...\" A long pause, then Bender said cautiously, \"I couldn't exactly give you their names.\"\n\nGilligan was instantly suspicious. \"Why not?\"\n\n\"Who was there, honey baby?\"\n\n\"Red and Billie, HJ, Mona, Jerry, I think, and wasn't that girl they called Midge with him? That's all the names I can think of.\" Mrs. Carmody waved a careless hand. \"I didn't know the others.\"\n\n\"And you don't know their last names? Telephone numbers?\" Rosenblatt suggested. Bender and Mrs. Carmody both shook their heads. \"How do you keep in touch?\"\n\n\"Oh, they weren't friends, just casual acquaintances. People we met at the party, weren't they, Bart?\"\n\n\"Who gave the party?\"\n\nThe pair gazed at each other blankly. They had steered themselves onto a reef, though Daisy couldn't quite see why Rosenblatt had bothered to chase them there.\n\nMrs. Carmody abandoned the sinking ship. \"They were friends of Mr. Bender's. I never caught their last name.\"\n\nBender gave her a look at once wounded and forgiving. \"Uh... Not exactly friends. See, things are pretty casual in our crowd... .\"\n\n\"So you don't know their names.\" Rosenblatt shook his head. \"But of course you know their address, since you took Mrs. Carmody there. No? Look, why don't you just admit Mrs. Carmody spent the night at your house?\"\n\n\"The heck she did!\" Gilligan exclaimed. \"I had a coupla men watching that place, and if they was there, they'da followed 'em here. What I figure is he's got an apartment that he takes his fancy women to, so his servants can't tell tales. I'da found it if I'da had another coupla days.\"\n\n\"Fancy woman! Barton Bender, are you going to sit there and let a cop insult me?\"\n\n\"No, no, honey baby. Don't you worry your pretty head. The truth is, Mr. Rosenblatt, I did rent an apartment specially for Mrs. Carmody when she left her husband. She didn't wanna let him know so she took a hotel room, too. It's not a crime to take a hotel room and not stay there.\"\n\n\"Nor to spend the night with a lady friend.\"\n\n\"I hadda try and pertect her good name, now, didn't I? You gotta unnerstand, Elva's real sensitive.\"\n\n\"And you're ready to lie to the police to protect her feelings.\"\n\n\"Sure, sure, no harm done.\"\n\n\"Izzat so?\" Gilligan broke in. \"I guess you'd be ready to do anything for the little lady, huh? Even croak her husband!\"\n\n\"No!\" cried Mrs. Carmody. \"You didn't, Bart, did you?\"\n\n\"No, of course I didn't, honey baby. Not that I wouldn't've if you'da been in danger from him, but he wasn't giving you any trouble a good lawyer couldn't straighten out.\"\n\n\"He was giving you trouble, then, Mrs. Carmody?\" said Rosenblatt.\n\n\"Nothing serious,\" she said quickly, \"like Barton says. We had a bit of a tiff, Otis and me, but we'd have patched things up. A girl can have her fling, same as a man. You know what it's like being married, all ups and downs but till death you part.\"\n\n\"And death has you parted!\" put in Gilligan. \"Mighty convenient, ain't it?\"\n\nBender, who had gaped flabbergasted at Mrs. Carmody's last statement, found his voice. \"But honey baby, you're going to marry me!\"\n\n\"So we understood,\" said Rosenblatt. \"There was talk of divorce, not reconciliation.\"\n\n\"Howdya know that?\" shrilled Mrs. Carmody. \"I wouldn't never have let Otis divorce me.\"\n\n\"Maybe not. What were you looking for in your husband's room?\"\n\n\"We didn't even get in,\" she objected.\n\n\"Some stuff Elva left there,\" said Bender at the same moment.\n\n\"No, it wasn't either. It was some of Otis's papers Bart said I'd need now he was dead. I dunno what, he was gonna look through everything and pick them out for me.\"\n\n\"Gonna go through Carmody's papers, was you? Course, you wasn't looking for the stuff he got on you, no sirree. Where was you lunchtime yesterday?\"\n\n\"Business meeting,\" Bender said promptly. \"Started at eleven and we was still at it at twelve so we sent out for lunch. Didn't knock off till after two.\"\n\n\"Who was there? Let's have names and addresses, and let's not try on any funny business about not knowing.\"\n\nBender didn't try on any funny business. He gave the names and addresses of three men, one of which made Miss Genevieve raise her eyebrows.\n\nGilligan was impressed. \"Geez, Henry Morgan! The banker's son, huh?\"\n\n\"Yeah, he just graduated Harvard and they got him starting at the bottom as a messenger, fifteen bucks a week. He wants to spread his wings a little, only nacheral. I got a bit of property he's interested in,\" said Bender importantly.\n\n\"Waal, we'll check it out, but I guess if you was with him, you didn't shoot Carmody.\"\n\n\"I'd have told you if he was the man I saw,\" said Daisy indignantly.\n\nGilligan ignored her. \"Still, if you're swimming with the big fish, you don't want nuttin to spoil the deal, like maybe stories in the papers, like Carmody was writing. I figure you musta hired it done.\"\n\n\"You're nuts!\"\n\n\"Oh I am, am I?\" Gilligan said nastily. Standing up, he loomed threateningly over Bender. \"Well, lemme tell you, Mister Bender, we know you got toughs on your payroll and we know who they are. I'm gonna pull 'em in and grill 'em and sooner or later one of 'em's gonna crack and spill the works to save himself some grief. And meantime, Mister Bender, I'm gonna take you downtown and try if we can improve your memory down at headquarters.\" He signaled to Larssen, who lumbered over.\n\n\"But...,\" bleated Bender.\n\n\"You gonna come quietly? Don't wanna scare the ladies, do you?\"\n\n\"I want to call my lawyer!\"\n\n\"Now, now,\" Gilligan reproved him, \"ain't no need for that. You ain't under arrest... not yet. I just wanna ask you a few questions where it's peaceful and quiet, that's all.\"\n\n\"Elva!\"\n\n\"I'll call him, Bart. What's his name?\"\n\n\"Macpherson, James P. Macpherson.\"\n\n\"See, your memory's improving already.\" Gilligan put a heavy hand on Bender's shoulder.\n\n\"O.K., I'm coming, I'm coming!\"\n\n\"I'll telephone Mr. Macpherson, Bart. Right away.\" As the sergeant and his minion bore off the hapless man, Mrs. Carmody jumped up, agitated. \"I never knew he did it, I swear.\"\n\n\"I'm sure you didn't, ma'am,\" Rosenblatt soothed her, adding with some asperity, \"that is, I dare say he didn't. Our good sergeant is inclined to jump the gun.\"\n\nBut, Daisy noticed, he made no move to stop Gilligan.\n\n\"I must call his lawyer. Poor Bart\u2014will they use the 'third degree'?\"\n\n\"Of course not, Mrs. Carmody. Not on a prominent citizen with a good lawyer. So there's no hurry for you to telephone. Just sit down, and maybe we can clear this all up here and now.\"\n\nOnce more dabbing her eyes, Mrs. Carmody sat. \"If he did it, I didn't know nothing about it,\" she declared again.\n\n\"Did Mr. Bender ever make threats against your husband?\"\n\n\"Oh no, not seriously. Of course he's real sweet on me, so he was madder'n a hornets' nest when Otis wouldn't do the right thing by me. But he was talking mostly 'bout what his lawyer'd do to Otis, not his boys.\"\n\n\"Mostly?\" insinuated Rosenblatt.\n\n\"Well, he did say Otis'd change his mind in a hurry if he was to set the boys on him, but I said he mustn't and he promised he wouldn't. I still loved Otis, see.\" Mrs. Carmody sniffed delicately and dabbed again. \"I wouldn't've wanted anything bad to happen to him, however mean he was. I just didn't wanna fritter away my life playing second fiddle to his work. You unnerstand, don't you?\" she asked Rosenblatt meltingly.\n\n\"Sure. You're only young once, right? A beautiful lady shouldn't waste her youth on...\"\n\n\"Uh...\" Gilligan reappeared, rather pink in the face. \"Hey, you, Lambert!\"\n\n\"Who, me?\"\n\n\"Aw, geez, let's not get into this cross-talk deal again! You finished with that mug book?\"\n\n\"Er... I have, but I don't think Mrs. Fletcher's gotten quite all the way through. I didn't recognize anyone.\"\n\n\"I guess Mrs. Fletcher better finish up. If you was to reckernize wunna Bender's toughs, ma'am, we'd have him cold.\"\n\nDaisy didn't want to return to those beastly faces when she could be listening to Rosenblatt and Mrs. Carmody. \"I don't want to delay you,\" she said. \"Suppose I give the book to Detective O'Rourke when he comes back, or is he going with you?\"\n\nGilligan looked taken aback, as if he had forgotten O'Rourke's existence. Perhaps he had. \"That'll be fine, ma'am,\" he said. \"O'Rourke can bring it back to Centre Street.\"\n\n\"Shall I tell him that's where you've gone?\"\n\nThe sergeant's face turned purple, but he reined himself in and merely snapped, \"You can leave that to me, ma'am.\"\n\n\"Right-oh,\" said Daisy, and Gilligan stalked out. Daisy stayed put.\n\n\"Who are these people?\" Mrs. Carmody asked plaintively. Daisy wondered whether she could possibly be so self-centred she actually had not noticed the other inhabitants of the room.\n\n\"The residents of this suite,\" Rosenblatt explained, \"and a couple of witnesses. If they make you uncomfortable, we can go downtown to talk.\"\n\n\"Oh no!\"\n\n\"Not to police headquarters. The District Attorney's of fices are in the Criminal Courts Building.\"\n\n\"Criminal Courts! Oh no! No, let's stay here, but I don't think I got anything else to tell you.\"\n\n\"Do you know if your husband had any enemies?\"\n\n\"Enemies,\" sneered Mrs. Carmody. \"Better ask if he had any friends. That's what he did for a living, make enemies. I can't begin to list them.\"\n\n\"Who were his friends?\" Rosenblatt asked patiently.\n\n\"He didn't have any in New York, not that I knew anyway. If I hadn't've gone out and made friends for myself, I'd've never seen anyone.\"\n\n\"In Washington?\"\n\n\"There were a coupla guys, couples that we visited with, but I don't think he kept in touch. We'd've maybe exchanged Christmas greetings, you know, like we did with the folks in Chicago. That's where we met, Chicago.\"\n\n\"Carmody wasn't from Chicago, though.\"\n\n\"No, he worked there a few years, on the Herald-American . He came from some hick town out west, like I come from a hick town back in Iowa.\" Mrs. Carmody coyly smoothed the fur cuff at her wrist. \"You wouldn't guess it to look at me now, would you?\"\n\n\"Not in a million years,\" said Rosenblatt. \"The Herald-American , that's a Hearst paper, isn't it?\"\n\n\"Huh? Oh, you mean Mr. Randolph Hearst owns it? Yeah, could be. Now you come to mention it, Otis mighta mentioned that once. I don't remember for sure, though. Don't quote me!\" she giggled.\n\n\"Did Carmody keep in touch with his family out west?\"\n\n\"Just at Christmas. He may've wrote his mother sometimes, I dunno, or his sisters. His dad was a banker, a big man in town. He went to college, you know, Otis. Not just a farm college, either. They got a real university out there, would you believe? I mean, it isn't no Yale or Harvard, but he was real educated, my Otis.\"\n\nMrs. Carmody began to cry in earnest, the first real tears Daisy had seen. Her tiny hankie proved inadequate. With aplomb Rosenblatt handed over his own sizable square, reminding Daisy of Alec's injunction always to pack spare handkerchiefs when he travelled on a case. She repressed an urge to go over and comfort the woman, without great difficulty as she simply couldn't care much about her.\n\n\"He's really gone, isn't he?\" Mrs. Carmody sniffed. \"I didn't really realize before, not for real. We had good times, him and me, back in Chicago. Only then he changed, and he didn't seem to want to give me a good time anymore.\" She sounded bewildered. \"I thought it might be better in New York, more like Chicago, but he was just like in Washington. It wasn't me that changed.\"\n\nDaisy felt her sympathies rising, for both of the ill-matched couple. Rosenblatt obviously did not. He went on with his questioning.\n\n\"Did Carmody keep in touch with his cousins or other relatives?\"\n\n\"Nix! On his mother's side, they're just farmers and mill hands and like that.\"\n\n\"You didn't know one of his relatives is in New York?\"\n\n\"Gosh darn, you don't say! No, he never told me. If you want the truth, we didn't talk much the last few weeks.\"\n\n\"A Mr. Wilbur Pitt.\"\n\n\"Never heard of him. Why would I? Otis didn't talk about his family. What's he doing in New York, this guy?\"\n\n\"We haven't spoken to him yet,\" Rosenblatt said guardedly. He glanced at his wrist-watch. \"If he contacts you, will you let me know? Here's my card. I have to go now, I'm due in court. Don't leave town, will you? Either I or Sergeant Gilligan will probably need to ask you a few more questions.\"\n\n\"Gee, not that sergeant. He gave me the willies. You're a gentleman, anyone can see.\"\n\nFlattery left the Deputy D.A. as unmoved as had tears. \"In any case we'll be in touch with you about your husband's possessions. If you're not using your hotel room, you better give me the address of your apartment.\"\n\n\"Aw, gee, I dunno. Bart wouldn't like me giving out that address. It's kinda private, see.\"\n\n\"I can take you down to police headquarters to ask Mr. Bender's permission.\"\n\n\"No, thanks! I guess they're gonna sweat it out of poor Bart anyhow, so I might as well tell.\" She gave the address. \"I gotta powder my nose. Can I use Otis's room?\"\n\n\"No, I'm afraid not. I'm sure Miss Cabot will oblige.\"\n\n\"Oh dear! Oh yes, of course, do come this way, Mrs. Carmody.\"\n\nAs Miss Cabot ushered Mrs. Carmody out, Rosenblatt came over to Daisy and Miss Genevieve.\n\n\"Satisfied, ladies?\" he enquired sarcastically.\n\n\"Why did you stay here,\" said Daisy, \"if you didn't want us to listen?\"\n\n\"Strike while the iron's hot. Give 'em time to think and they realize they'd do better to clam up. I'm sure Sergeant Gilligan will be most grateful, Mrs. Fletcher, if you can find a moment to look through the rest of his precious mug book.\"\n\n\"I expect I might find a moment.\"\n\n\"And you will let us know if you plan to leave town, won't you? You're the only witness who actually saw the guy's face.\" He cast a reproachful glance at Lambert, who reddened. \"Sigurd Thorwald swears he was looking at the elevator and then at Mr. Lambert, not the guy you were chasing. Not that I'd give much for his evidence, the state he was in. Thank you for the use of your place, Miss Genevieve. I guess.\"\n\n\"You're more than welcome,\" said Miss Genevieve cordially. \"Any time.\"\n\nRosenblatt departed.\n\n\"Sarky beast,\" said Daisy. \"What do you make of all that?\"\n\n\"You'd better finish up with the mug book first,\" said Miss Genevieve. \"O'Rourke will be in for it any minute and we don't want him hanging around. Anyway, we can't talk freely till Elva Carmody's gone. Are you planning on staying the rest of the day?\" she demanded of Lambert, still seated at her desk.\n\n\"Let him stay,\" Daisy suggested, \"while I'm here, that is. Otherwise he'll just hang about in the passage outside your door, waiting to see where I go next. I hope you noted where I got to in that book, Mr. Lambert. I don't want to have to go through all those beastly faces again.\"\n\n\"Yes, I marked the place,\" he said eagerly, pleased to have done something right for once.\n\nDaisy returned to the desk and flipped through the last few photographs, without result. None of the beastly faces reminded her in the least of the man on the stairs.\n\nMrs. Carmody reemerged into the sitting room with her face restored. She came over to the four by the fireplace, Lambert jumping to his feet at her approach.\n\n\"I guess you folks must be wondering about me and Otis,\" she opened. \"I really am all broke up over him passing on, only you don't wanna be a killjoy, do you?\"\n\n\"Oh dear, so very sorry!\" said Miss Cabot. \"Of course you haven't had time yet to put on your blacks.\"\n\n\"Blacks?\" Mrs. Carmody turned an astonished gaze on the old lady. \"Oh, you mean mourning clothes? That's kinda old-fashioned, you know, and black doesn't suit me one bit.\"\n\n\"Oh dear!\"\n\n\"'Sides, I figure now Otis is gone it won't worry him what I wear, and it's my duty now to cheer up poor Bart. He likes me in red. Heck, I gotta go telephone his lawyer.\"\n\n\"You're welcome to use our telephone,\" offered Miss Genevieve, as unwilling as Daisy to let her escape without coughing up a bit more information.\n\n\"Gee, can I? That's mighty kind of you. Say, d'you remember his name that Bart told me?\"\n\n\"James P. Macpherson,\" said Daisy.\n\n\"Have you a directory, ma'am?\" Lambert asked. \"I'll look up his number for you, Mrs. Carmody.\"\n\nMiss Cabot found the telephone directory in her sister's desk, Lambert found the number, and Mrs. Carmody asked the hotel switchboard to connect her. Miss Genevieve made no pretence of not listening, even hushing Lambert and Miss Cabot when they would have spoken.\n\n\"Hello, Mr. Macpherson?... This is Elva Carmody... . No, nothing to do with that business. It's Bart\u2014Mr. Bender. The cops have taken him in... . No, not Fraud, I guess it's the Homicide Bureau.\"\n\nA squawk came over the wire, loud enough for Daisy to hear, though not to make out the words.\n\n\"Heck no, not one of his goddamn tenants. My husband, Otis Carmody. You musta read about it... . No, I don't believe he did and they haven't acksherly arrested him, but they're gonna grill him... . Well, O.K., if he did, it was for my sake, but it's sure landed us in a heapa trouble. You gotta get down to police headquarters right away.\"\n\nShe listened for a moment, then said good-bye and hung up the earpiece on its hook.\n\n\"Everything all right?\" asked Miss Genevieve.\n\n\"Mr. Macpherson's going down there and make sure they don't violet Bart's rights. But if the cops got evidence,\" Mrs. Carmody went on disconsolately, \"he says he might not be able to get him out today. My husband dead, my friend in jail, what the heck am I s'posed to do?\"\n\nMiss Genevieve visibly withheld a pithy response. \"Won't you sit down for a moment,\" she said, \"while you consider your options? Do you know the men who work for Mr. Bender?\"\n\n\"Nix. Bart didn't want me to trouble my head with business, not like Otis. Otis was always on at me to take an interest in his work. He used to get all excited and say nine tenths of the people in the government was crooks, but like I told him, who cares? That's just the way things are, and worrying about it don't put diamonds around a girl's neck. Anyways, if Bart gets sent to the chair for having Otis croaked, his guys'll all be out of a job and no help to me.\"\n\n\"True,\" Miss Genevieve agreed. \"So we must try to figure out who else might have disposed of your husband. If you try real hard, maybe you'll remember which of the many public figures Mr. Carmody antagonized made particularly virulent threats against him.\"\n\n\"Who got maddest, that he wrote about? Gee, I dunno. Otis read me some real punk letters he got. Most weren't signed, but he often knew pretty much who they were from.\"\n\n\"Did he tell you?\"\n\n\"Yeah, but I don't remember.\"\n\n\"What did he do with them? Did he keep them?\"\n\n\"Nix. He just laughed and tore 'em up. Said they didn't none of them have the guts to do anything, specially after President Harding passed on and President Coolidge started cleaning house. You figure it was someone Otis wrote about in Washington had him shot?\"\n\nMiss Genevieve shook her head. \"I think it's far more likely that someone in New York wanted to prevent his publishing the results of his latest investigations.\"\n\n\"You don't mean Bart, do you? I know Otis was digging up some dirt on Bart.\"\n\n\"If it was Mr. Bender, the police can be counted on to prove it. They're going to bend over backwards to avoid pinning it on anyone more closely connected with Tammany, unless someone keeps an eye on them. I guess I'm the one. I've still got enough contacts in the right places to keep 'em on their toes if they don't want to find themselves pilloried in the opposition and Hearst press right before the election.\"\n\n\"Aw, politics! But you mean you're gonna help Bart? Gee, I wish you would. Him and me get on real well together, and I don't wanna hafta go looking for someone else. I'm not as young as I look, see,\" Mrs. Carmody confessed with a moue. \"I wanna settle down with a man that thinks I'm worth giving a good time.\"\n\n\"Most understandable,\" said Miss Genevieve dryly. \"I'll certainly do what I can to make sure the police and the D.A.'s office don't brush any Tammany connection under the carpet. Whether that will help Mr. Bender remains to be seen.\"\n\n\"Least he won't be railroaded for something he didn't do. I can't help wondering, did he...\" She stopped as someone knocked on the door.\n\n\"Shall I get that, ma'am?\" Lambert asked. At Miss Genevieve's nod, he went out into the foyer. \"Oh, it's you, Detective O'Rourke. Come in.\"\n\nMrs. Carmody jumped up. \"Say, you been real swell, but I guess I better get going now. 'Bye, folks.\"\n\nShe hurried out, dodging past O'Rourke as if she was afraid he might without warning clap handcuffs on her. He swung round to stare after her.\n\n\"Who wuzzat?\" he enquired suspiciously.\n\n\"A visitor,\" Miss Genevieve informed him, accurate if misleading. \"What did you find in Wilbur Pitt's room?\"\n\n\"Geez, ma'am, I didn't oughta tell you.\"\n\n\"Mr. Rosenblatt has already told me all about the case. I have considerable experience in criminal matters, you know. Did you find a gun?\"\n\n\"No, ma'am.\"\n\n\"No gun?\" Miss Genevieve was disappointed.\n\n\"I thought men in the Wild West always had six-shooters,\" ventured Miss Cabot.\n\nMiss Genevieve looked self-conscious, as if she had also been momentarily prey to that misconception. \"Mr. Pitt is presently in New York, not the Wild West, sister.\"\n\n\"No cartridges,\" Daisy asked, \"or whatever you put in a six-shooter?\"\n\n\"No, ma'am.\"\n\n\"What did you find, Detective?\" said Miss Genevieve.\n\n\"Nuttin, ma'am.\"\n\n\"He's skedaddled?\"\n\n\"No, ma'am. Nuttin of int'rest, I shoulda said. Just a few clothes, coupla shirts, kinda old-fashioned, nuttin fancy, no evening dress or nuttin, and a cardboard suitcase. There was a coupla packs of cigarette papers\u2014no tobacco pouch, I guess he got it on him\u2014and a big manila envelope with a stack of paper in it, writing paper, all written on.\"\n\n\"Not typed?\" Daisy said.\n\n\"No, ma'am, and the writing was dang near impossible to read, but it wasn't letters or nuttin useful.\"\n\n\"His manuscript,\" said Miss Genevieve. \"He won't leave without that.\"\n\n\"Izzat so? The sergeant'll be pleased to hear that, ma'am. He'll still want to see Mr. Pitt, I guess, but there wasn't nuttin useful anywheres, like I said.\"\n\n\"Drat,\" said Daisy. Wilbur Pitt was the only suspect she had much chance of investigating, but it seemed less and less likely that he had put a bullet into his cousin after a family squabble. She would still like to talk to him, though.\n\n\"You didn't reckernize none of the faces in the mug book, ma'am?\" O'Rourke asked her.\n\nDaisy shook her head. \"No, sorry. But I'm still sure I'd recognize him if I saw him. Pretty sure.\"\n\n\"I'll tell Sergeant Gilligan, ma'am.\" Detective O'Rourke departed with the mug book under his arm.\n\nTurning to Miss Genevieve, Daisy asked, \"Well, what do you think?\"\n\nMiss Genevieve sighed. \"I expect Gilligan's right, and Barton Bender hired someone to kill Carmody. He did, after all, have a double motive.\"\n\n\"Double?\" said Lambert blankly.\n\n\"Fear of exposure of his unsavory business methods, and to free Mrs. Carmody,\" Daisy explained, \"so that he could marry her.\"\n\n\"Gee, I guess so.\"\n\n\"Do you think Mrs. Carmody knew what Bender planned, Miss Genevieve?\"\n\n\"Hmm.\" After a moment's thought, the old lady said reluctantly, \"Perhaps not. Though I wouldn't be surprised if she had asked him to put her husband out of the way and he told her it was too risky. And then he changed his mind when Carmody's investigations threatened him.\"\n\n\"I doubt she knew,\" said Daisy. \"She was a rotten liar.\"\n\n\"Those crocodile tears!\"\n\n\"Oh dear!\"\n\n\"Don't be naive, sister.\"\n\n\"She really was crying at one point,\" Daisy argued. \"I believe she loved him once and his death hurt her when she let herself feel it. Actually, I'm rather sorry for both of them.\"\n\n\"An ill-matched pair,\" Miss Genevieve acknowledged. \"No doubt he fell for a pretty face, like most men, and didn't realize for some time that there was nothing behind it. He grew up. She didn't. Learn by his example, young man!\" she admonished Lambert sternly.\n\n\"Gee whiz,\" he said obediently, \"I'll sure try, ma'am.\"\n\n\"She's trying to have it both ways, of course. She wants to keep Bender, yet she's afraid of being charged as an accomplice. It's not because I'm sorry for the dumb broad,\" Miss Genevieve went on with one of her startling lapses into the vernacular, \"that I'll be keeping an eye on Rosenblatt and Gilligan. I'm not by any means convinced of Bender's guilt. I'll keep pushing them to make absolutely certain Tammany isn't involved.\"\n\n\"Won't that guy Pascoli do that?\" Lambert enquired. \"I mean, I bought a couple of newspapers this morning and they were full of the murder of a muckraker that was investigating Tammany Hall. I figure it must be Pascoli put them onto it.\"\n\n\"Tell me about Pascoli,\" Miss Genevieve requested. \"You were talking about him before, Mrs. Fletcher, but I didn't catch exactly how he came into the business.\"\n\nDaisy explained that Pascoli was responsible for Carmody's presence in the Flatiron Building. \"And he pointed out to Mr. Rosenblatt the possibility that the murder had some connection to Washington or New York politicians.\"\n\n\"Which I reported to Mr. Hoover, of course,\" Lambert put in eagerly. \"I mean, I had to report to him anyway because of Mrs. Fletcher being in trouble, but he wouldn't have sent another agent just because of that. So between the newspapers and Agent Whitaker, I don't think you need to worry that the Tammany Hall side of things will be dropped without a thorough investigation, Miss Genevieve.\"\n\n\"Possibly not,\" said Miss Genevieve, displeased, \"but if you want something done well, you should do it yourself.\"\n\n\"That's what Papa always said,\" Miss Cabot ventured, \"though he applied it only to men. He never let me do anything except fine needlework. But I have learned to make good coffee, haven't I, sister?\"\n\n\"Excellent, sister.\"\n\n\"Would you care for a cup, Mrs. Fletcher?\"\n\n\"Yes, please. Heavens, it's past time for elevenses already. I had no idea it was so late.\"\n\n\"Elevenses?\" Miss Genevieve enquired.\n\n\"In England we lunch later than you seem to here, so a cup of tea or coffee and a biscuit is welcome at about eleven o'clock.\"\n\n\"What a good idea. Ernestine and I usually take a cup of coffee a little earlier, but this has been such an interesting morning, I quite forgot.\"\n\n\"I did not, sister,\" said Miss Cabot reproachfully, \"but I was forever being hushed. Besides, we don't have enough cups for everyone who was here this morning, and they did keep popping in and out so. I think we have some macaroons in the cookie jar.\"\n\nBiscuit tin, Daisy translated. \"Perfect,\" she said.\n\nMiss Cabot trotted off to her tiny kitchen, to return a few minutes later with coffee pot, cups and saucers, and a plate of cookies. The macaroons were a disappointment to Daisy, since they turned out to be coconut biscuits, not her favourite almond meringue confections\u2014something lost in translation. Her lack of enthusiasm went unnoticed as Lambert ate all but the last one, which he had manners enough to leave. The coffee was good, though. Daisy complimented Miss Cabot, who blushed and beamed.\n\n\"I do try to be useful to dear Genevieve,\" she said with earnest modesty.\n\n\"Couldn't get on without you,\" her sister said gruffly.\n\nHer beam still brighter, Miss Cabot refilled cups and returned to her eternal knitting.\n\nDaisy finished her coffee and said, \"I really must take myself and Mr. Lambert off now and not take up any more of your time. It was most frightfully kind of you to insist on the sergeant coming up here instead of dragging me off to police headquarters, which sounds simply beastly.\"\n\n\"It's a grim place,\" Miss Genevieve said. \"But I promise you, you did me a favour by agreeing to come. You must have realized that curiosity is my besetting sin.\"\n\n\"Mine too,\" Daisy admitted with a chuckle.\n\n\"So you will understand, I feel sure, if I ask you to keep me current with what's going on in the investigation.\"\n\n\"You shall know all that I know. But once Alec arrives, I'm not likely to get a chance to find out any more.\"\n\n\"You're involved, though, as I cannot pretend to be. I could wish that Bender didn't know you're able to identify the killer.\"\n\n\"Gosh, you don't think... But he's in the hands of the police.\"\n\n\"Who can't stop him seeing his lawyer, and can't stop his lawyer leaving their premises, and can't stop him passing information to anyone he chooses.\"\n\n\"Gosh!\" said Daisy, a cold frisson shuddering down her spine.\n\n\"Don't worry,\" said Lambert manfully, \"I won't stir from your side till Mr. Fletcher gets here.\"\n\nMiss Genevieve gave him a disparaging look and said, \"Pah!\"\n\nWhich didn't make Daisy feel any safer.\n\n\"Carmody was right about one thing,\" observed Lambert as he and Daisy headed for the elevators.\"\n\n\"What's that?\"\n\n\"When he called Miss Genevieve 'Madame Guillotine.' I bet she could sever heads with that look.\"\n\n\"You haven't met my husband yet,\" said Daisy. Alec's glance of icy displeasure was capable of freezing erring subordinates to the marrow or making criminals feel they might be better off at the North Pole. It even, occasionally, gave his wife pause.\n\n\"Gee whiz!\" Lambert quailed. \"Mr. Fletcher's not going to be too pleased with me.\"\n\n\"Don't worry, he won't blame you. If he'd known in advance what Mr. Hoover planned, he'd have told him not to bother to give me a watchdog. Even Alec's never been able to keep me from getting mixed up in things.\" She pressed the elevator bell push. \"I'm going up to my room now, till lunchtime. If you don't want to lurk in the corridor, you could ask Patrolman Hicks to notify you if I try to sneak out.\"\n\n\"I'll stay. Keeping you out of trouble is one thing, but after what Miss Genevieve said... I'd never be able to face Mr. Fletcher if Bender's thugs came looking for you and I wasn't there.\"\n\n\"Don't remind me. Though surely the lawyer can hardly have reached police headquarters yet, let alone learnt about me from Bender and passed word to someone else.\"\n\n\"I'll stay,\" Lambert repeated as the lift creaked to a halt in front of them.\n\n\"Right-oh, it's up to you. Hello, Kevin. Seventh, please.\"\n\n\"O.K., ma'am. Going up.\" The boy seemed uncharacteristically subdued.\n\n\"Is anything wrong?\" Daisy asked as the lift started off again.\n\n\"I din't wanna help the cops none,\" said Kevin, \"not after how they treated Bridey. But I figured the D.A.'d put a crimp in Gilligan's style if he got to bullying you, so I tol' the dick where you was. And then after, I tol' that harness bull where to find the 'tecs 'cause I figured you and Miss Genevieve'd wanna know them two'd gotten theirselves nabbed.\"\n\n\"How right you were,\" Daisy said cordially. \"By the way, I don't suppose you've taken Mr. Pitt up or down today, have you?\"\n\n\"Nah, ain't seen him since yesterday, and it's no good asking the guys on the night shift 'cause they wouldn't neither of 'em notice if a hefalunt got inna their elevators.\"\n\n\"Well, if he comes in, I'd appreciate it if you'd try to let me know.\"\n\n\"O.K., ma'am. Here we are, seventh floor.\"\n\n\"Thanks, Kevin. And especial thanks for sending Mr. Rosenblatt and the other policeman to the Cabots' suite.\" Daisy felt in her purse for a tip.\n\nKevin put his freckled, grubby hand over hers. \"None o' that,\" he said gruffly. \"I'da done the same for any pal.\" He brightened. \"But I don't care if your minder wants ta tip me.\"\n\nLambert handed over a half-dollar with a sigh.\n\nDaisy had scarcely shut the door of her room on him when the telephone bell rang.\n\n\"Mrs. Fletcher?\" said the hotel operator. \"There's a Mr. Thorwald on the line. He's been trying to get ahold of you all morning.\"\n\n\"Put him through, please,\" said Daisy, instantly sure that he had reread her article and hated it.\n\nThe usual clicks and buzzes were succeeded by Thorwald's agitated voice. \"Mrs. Fletcher, they think I did it!\"\n\n\"I beg your pardon?\" Daisy's mind was still on her article.\n\n\"The police!\" Thorwald took an audible deep and calming breath. \"That is, the Deputy District Attorney requests my attendance at the Criminal Courts Building at three o'clock this afternoon, and Detective Sergeant Gilligan has dispatched a plainclothesman to escort me to police headquarters immediately.\"\n\n\"Immediately?\"\n\n\"I have contrived to delay the latter by means of a variety of stratagems, desiring to consult with you before placing myself irrevocably in their hands. My dear Mrs. Fletcher, your husband is a senior detective officer, and you have given me to understand that you are not unfamiliar with police methods, in England if not in this country. Advise me!\"\n\n\"Gosh,\" said Daisy, thinking furiously. \"Right-oh, I'll do my best. First, when did you get the summons from Mr. Rosenblatt?\"\n\n\"At approximately ten o'clock this morning. I telephoned you immediately, but the hotel operator was unable to discover your whereabouts.\"\n\nHe couldn't have asked Kevin, Daisy thought. \"How much evidence were you, um, able to give them yesterday?\" she asked.\n\n\"Er-hum, not a vast quantity,\" Thorwald confessed sheepishly. \"I, hmm, found it extraordinarily difficult to concentrate upon their inquiries.\"\n\n\"Then I should think Rosenblatt has simply given you time to, er, recover your equilibrium before asking you to repeat your account of what you observed and did. I shouldn't worry about him. As for Gilligan, how long have you been holding his minion at bay?\"\n\n\"Approximately fifteen minutes. Seventeen, to be precise.\"\n\n\"Well done!\" said Daisy. \"Let's see, he must have sent for you after he took Barton Bender into custody, so...\"\n\n\"The culprit has been arrested?\" Hope rang down the wire.\n\n\"Not exactly. He's only classified as a suspect still, but sufficiently suspicious to be taken in for questioning. Grilling, as they say here. I expect Gilligan just wants you to take a look at him and see if you can identify him. The worthy sergeant has virtually no confidence in my competence as a witness.\" Nor I in his competence as a detective, Daisy added to herself.\n\n\"Is that all?\" said Thorwald with a sigh of relief. \"I can but reiterate that I did not observe the person whom you and young Lambert pursued down the staircase.\"\n\n\"That's only my guess,\" Daisy cautioned. \"With Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, anything's possible.\"\n\nAn explosive snort of laughter reached her ear. \"Rosencrantz and... ? My dear Mrs. Fletcher!\"\n\n\"Blast, I've been trying not to say that. Mr. Thorwald, have you got a solicitor? A lawyer? It wouldn't hurt to take him with you when you go to see those two.\"\n\n\"A reasonable precaution,\" Thorwald agreed, sobering. \"I shall telephone my legal adviser immediately and arrange for him to meet me there. However, I am persuaded that you have interpreted the situation correctly. I was foolishly apprehensive. Thank you, my dear Mrs. Fletcher, for your inestimable reassurance.\"\n\nDaisy said good-bye, hung up, and started worrying. She found it hard to believe anyone could seriously suspect Mr. Thorwald of shooting Carmody, or anyone else for that matter. On the other hand, she was the only person who could say with any certainty that her editor had not fired a gun from close behind her, and Rosenblatt and Gilligan were not inclined to credit her evidence.\n\nAs she had told Thorwald, with Rosenblatt and Gilligan anything seemed possible. They were at least as much concerned with politics as with the law, if not more so. If their case against Barton Bender fell through, Thorwald might be the next scapegoat.\n\nOr Daisy might find herself filling that role.\n\nBetween Scylla and Charybdis, she thought uneasily. Bender's thugs on one side, the not particularly long but quite possibly crooked arm of the law on the other. Perhaps she ought to skedaddle, as Miss Genevieve put it.\n\nShe was sure of a welcome with Mr. Arbuckle and the Petries, in Connecticut, not too far away but in a different state. She could always leave a message for Rosenblatt, and another for Alec.\n\nNo, Alec would be here in a few hours. Though she hadn't much confidence in Lambert as a defender, she trusted Alec. His official status would protect her from the police and the D.A., and with him beside her she wasn't afraid of Bender's bullyboys. And then there was Whitaker. The federal agent who was coming with Alec would surely force the New York authorities to stop looking for scapegoats and investigate Tammany's thugs.\n\nGosh, not another lot of thugs after her! Daisy groaned. She would be very happy to see Alec, even though it meant admitting, to herself if not to him, that she wasn't quite as independent as she'd like to think herself.\n\nIt was a pity, too, that she wasn't going to get a chance to work out for herself who was the murderer. Hired thugs were altogether beyond her purview.\n\nIn the meantime, while she had no intention of cowering in her room till Alec arrived, she was glad of an excuse to stay there for the moment. She had had the brilliant idea of writing up her experiences with the New York police to sell in England. To be published under a pseudonym, she supposed, so as not to upset Superintendent Crane and the Assistant Commissioner (Crime).\n\nTurning to the typewriter, Daisy prepared to do battle.\n\nWhen Daisy ventured forth from her room, urged onward by hunger pangs, she expected to find Lambert lurking in the passage near her door. His absence brought a frown. Little though she felt able to rely on his abilities, his company would have been comforting.\n\nAnnoyance gave way to alarm\u2014had the thugs picked him off first, before tackling her? But before she could panic, she remembered Patrolman Hicks. A uniformed policeman would surely have given \"them\" pause.\n\nNot that Hicks was at his post, either. Daisy found them both by the elevators, where Kevin was teaching Lambert to play at jacks, while Hicks watched with avuncular interest. So much for the guardians of the law's majesty.\n\nLambert scrambled to his feet, his unfortunate blush mantling his ingenuous face. Daisy sympathized.\n\n\"Lunchtime,\" she said brightly.\n\n\"Swell!\"\n\n\"It's O.K. for some,\" Hicks grumbled.\n\n\"You want I should fetch you a sandwich?\" offered Kevin.\n\n\"Say, yeah, do that, willya? Here's a buck and you can keep the change. Anything 'cept toonafish. Me, I don't like toonafish.\"\n\nKevin took Daisy and Lambert down. \"That guy's O.K. for a bull,\" he said grudgingly. \"Some people, they expect you to fetch 'em summat out of your own pocket, and then when they pay you they want the change!\"\n\n\"He must be grateful that you told him where to find Sergeant Gilligan,\" Daisy suggested.\n\n\"He's O.K. Say, where you gonna eat, ma'am? 'Cause if you're going out and you don't want nuttin fancy, there's a swell Eyetie place just round on Seventh Avenoo. Looigi's. Tell 'em I sent you and they'll give you the works.\"\n\nWith a commission to the boy, no doubt, Daisy guessed, asking directions. She wondered just how many pies he had his fingers in. A sudden thought struck her. No one knew more than Kevin about what was going on in the hotel, at least during the day.\n\n\"Kevin,\" she said impulsively, \"will you let me know, and Mr. Lambert, too, if any rough-looking strangers ask about me?\"\n\nHis blue eyes widened. \"Geeeez!\" he breathed, impressed, \"are they after you, ma'am?\"\n\n\"Probably not, but just to be on the safe side.\"\n\n\"Sure! Don't you worry none, Mrs. Fletcher, ma'am, I got my ways of finding out things. If any tough sticks his nose through them doors, you'll hear about it long afore he gets to asking questions.\"\n\n\"That's a weight off my mind,\" said Daisy as the lift reached the lobby. \"Thank you, Kevin.\"\n\n\"You just stay here a minute, ma'am, while I go make sure the coast's clear.\" Kevin dashed off, to return a moment later looking disappointed. \"All clear,\" he reported. \"By the time you get back after lunch, I'll've gotten everything fixed up, so don't worry!\"\n\n\"You've made his day,\" said Lambert a trifle sourly. \"I can take care of you if there's any trouble, you know. I've got my automatic.\"\n\n\"That is a relief,\" said Daisy, hoping she sounded sincere. Judging by what had happened last time he drew his gun, she would on the whole have preferred him to be unarmed.\n\nThey had a delicious and uneventful meal, served by a befreckled cousin of Kevin's who was married to the Italian proprietor-chef. Lambert insisted on paying for Daisy's lunch, saying grandly, \"I'll put it on expenses.\" He then proceeded to embarrass her thoroughly.\n\n\"Stay there a minute,\" he ordered, as she picked up her handbag preparatory to leaving. To the bewilderment of the few other lunchers, he went to the window, stood to one side, and peered out. Returning to Daisy, he said from one side of his mouth, \"Looks O.K. I don't see anyone suspicious.\"\n\n\"What exactly are you looking for?\"\n\n\"Gee, anyone that's not moving along. Not the newsboy, of course. Anyone hanging around with nothing special to do, I guess.\"\n\n\"Lurking?\" Daisy said unkindly, as he helped her on with her coat.\n\nTelltale ears red but undeterred, Lambert preceded her to the door, which was set back in an alcove from the pavement (sidewalk, Daisy reminded herself). Again he told her to wait. After once more scrutinizing the far side of the street, through the glass door, he opened it just enough to slip out. His hat pulled down over his horn-rims, his hand in the breast of his coat, he tiptoed to the corner and stuck his head around just far enough to be able to gaze up and down the street.\n\nGlancing back, he gave Daisy a significant nod, which she interpreted as permission to join him. Lambert's desire to be a federal agent, she decided, stemmed not from any burning ambition to uphold the law but simply from a love of cloak-and-dagger adventure. She couldn't take the possibility of danger seriously while he was play-acting.\n\n\"Can you pull your hat down further?\" he asked in an urgent whisper.\n\n\"Not without crushing my hair,\" she said tartly, in a normal voice. \"The villains can't possibly have much of a description of my face.\"\n\n\"I guess not,\" he admitted reluctantly. \"O.K., let's go.\"\n\n\"Would you mind very much taking your hand away from your gun? It makes me rather twitchy. People don't carry guns around in England, you see, not even the police. And I can't help feeling that wearing your hat so low may not only hamper your ability to see but draw unwanted attention.\"\n\n\"Aw, gee, do you think so?\" Crestfallen, he pushed it up.\n\n\"It's a frightfully good idea,\" Daisy hastened to assure him. \"It conceals your features jolly well. But perhaps this isn't quite the right situation.\"\n\nLambert nodded. \"I'm kind of new at this,\" he acknowledged, \"so I guess no one knows my features yet anyhow.\"\n\n\"Exactly! I'm sure they'll be famous one day.\"\n\n\"I don't know about that,\" he said dubiously. \"I figure agents are supposed to stay anonymous.\" His hand moved towards his hat brim, but after a moment's uncertainty, he turned up his coat collar instead.\n\nAs the hotel, with its red-and-white-striped awning, was already in sight, Daisy held her tongue. After all, the breeze was quite chilly, if nowhere near biting enough to justify such a sartorial lapse. But if she had to go outdoors with him again, she would suggest a muffler to hide his ingenuous face in a more conventional manner.\n\nThe stout, black-faced doorman, instead of sheltering in the hotel's doorway, was standing out on the pavement gazing east with an anxious air. He brightened when he saw Daisy and Lambert.\n\n\"Glad you're back safe, ma'am,\" he said. \"No problems?\"\n\nDaisy blinked, then realized he must be one of Kevin's cohort of spies. She smiled at him. \"No problems, thank you, Balfour.\" It always struck her as odd to address a black man by the name of a British statesman. He ought to have had some exotic African name, but of course he was as American as Lambert.\n\n\"Anyone been asking for Mrs. Fletcher?\" asked Lambert officiously.\n\n\"Just one ge'man, suh.\"\n\n\"Aha!\" cried Lambert, swinging round to scan the street, his hand at his breast pocket, while Daisy, aghast, could only gape. She realized she had not for a moment credited that she was truly in danger.\n\nBalfour had not let the stranger enter the lobby, especially as he said he was a newspaperman and the manager had instructed that no reporters were to be admitted. Though he refused to give his name, the man also claimed to be a friend of Mrs. Fletcher's.\n\n\"I don't know any reporters in New York,\" said Daisy.\n\n\"An obvious ruse,\" Lambert declared in a superior voice, as they crossed the lobby towards the registration desk.\n\n\"It's a pity Balfour couldn't give a better description of him than that he was a white man and rather shabby. It was clever to ask him to leave a note, though. Presumably he didn't sign it, but maybe the handwriting will tell the police something.\"\n\n\"He'll have disguised his writing, you betcha.\"\n\n\"Well, then, maybe he's left fingerprints. It's difficult to get them off paper, but not impossible.\"\n\n\"I'll go ask Balfour if he took his gloves off.\"\n\nLambert dashed off, and Daisy continued to the desk. As usual no one was there\u2014for that very reason she had taken her room key with her when she went out\u2014but she could see two folded papers in the cubbyhole with her number. She was tempted to slip through the gate at the side to retrieve them, rather than ring the bell and have to explain why the notes must be handled with care. She doubted that the manager or the desk clerk, Kevin's b\u00eates noires, had been apprised of her situation.\n\nWhile she hesitated, Kevin's lift came down. Her unorthodox protector saw her as soon as he stepped out into the passage to usher out his passengers. Abandoning them, he dashed to Daisy's side.\n\n\"Geez, ma'am, I'm mighty glad to see you. I been worrying. I shouldn'a let you go out to eat. You could've sent Stanley out to getcha sumpin, or I'da gone, for you.\"\n\n\"Luigi gave us a very good meal.\"\n\n\"Yeah, I tol' you. But a guy came round asking for you when you was gone.\"\n\n\"So Balfour said.\"\n\n\"He did pretty good, Balfour. Got him to write you a note, like I tol' him. I didn't read it,\" said Kevin virtuously. \"There's another one, too, a message from Mr. Fletcher, called in by Western Union. I'll get 'em for you.\" He swung open the gate in the counter.\n\n\"Hold the note by the edge, Kevin, in case the police can get dabs off it.\"\n\n\"Dabs?\"\n\n\"Oh, that's English police slang for fingerprints.\"\n\n\"Gotcha! Wish I'd've thought of that, though. I didn't think to warn Balfour and Stanley. Betcha it's got their fingerprints all over.\"\n\n\"The guy kept his gloves on, anyway,\" reported Lambert, joining Daisy, \"and he used a hotel pad that the doorman keeps in his pocket.\"\n\n\"Blast!\" Daisy took the two papers from Kevin without bothering about how she held them. The first one she unfolded was the message from Alec. \"Oh, drat and double drat! An important meeting this afternoon\u2014he's been delayed. He won't get here till nearly nine o'clock.\"\n\n\"Aw, punk!\" Kevin sympathized, leaning on the counter.\n\n\"What does the other one say?\" Lambert asked eagerly.\n\nHeart in mouth, Daisy opened it. Her eye went at once to the flamboyant signature, and she gave a half-hysterical giggle. \"James Pascoli! You remember, the Town Talk editor. He wants to make sure the police aren't giving me any trouble, and to see if I have any information I don't mind giving him. All that fuss and bother for nothing!\"\n\n\"You know the guy?\" Kevin was once more disappointed. \"Still, that don't prove nuttin. He still could've been paid to croak you.\"\n\n\"I hardly think so. Anyway, I'll telephone him, and if he wants to meet, I won't go out. He can come here, and we'll talk in the lobby, and I'll ask Miss Genevieve to join us.\"\n\n\"And me,\" said Lambert, sounding hurt.\n\n\"Of course, I take that for granted,\" Daisy soothed him.\n\n\"Oughta be safe enough,\" Kevin agreed, frowning, \"but it still don't prove there ain't some other guy after you.\"\n\nHe looked round at the sound of a door opening, and scurried through the gate and back to his elevator as the manager appeared.\n\nThe manager, a dour man, glared after him, then turned to Daisy. \"Can I help you, ma'am?\"\n\n\"No, thank you.\" Daisy waved the messages at him. \"Kevin kindly gave me these.\"\n\n\"Not his job!\"\n\n\"I dare say, but it was most helpful of him, and made it unnecessary to disturb you.\" With a nod of dismissal, she headed for Kevin's elevator, Lambert close at her heels.\n\nDaisy had a little lamb, she thought with a sigh.\n\nHaving promised her persistent lamb not to leave the hotel without him, and to keep him apprised of her whereabouts inside, Daisy went to her room. She was fagged out after a morning of alarums and excursions and Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, topped by a large lunch. After a longing look at her bed, though, she went to the telephone and asked for Pascoli's number.\n\nNot that she had any particular desire to provide him with information for his news magazine, but she appreciated his concern. More important, she wanted to ask him for news of Thorwald, and she hoped he might give her an unbiased opinion as to whether she was truly in danger. Kevin and Lambert and even Miss Genevieve were all too keen for a little excitement for their judgment to be trusted.\n\nPascoli was not in his office. Daisy left a message for him to ring her back.\n\nShe sat on at the desk, chin in hands, wishing Alec was there with her. However modern and independent one might be, it was comforting to have someone nearby who cared deeply what became of one. Even if he ballyragged her for getting involved\u2014as he was bound to, although it was not her fault\u2014he would support her and defend her.\n\nHome was such a frightfully long way away.\n\nThe thought of home brought the thought of her ten-year-old stepdaughter, Belinda. The poor child had been left with her Victorianly unbending grandmother while her father and her new mother jaunted off to America. Daisy had kept her promise to write often, but letters took a week or longer. Bel must have felt quite deserted for the first few days, though she had expected to have to wait for the first letter. A gap now would make her feel even worse.\n\nWriting a nice, cheerful letter would distract Daisy from her own woes, and Bel wouldn't mind if she typed it. She rolled a sheet of hotel notepaper into the protesting typewriter.\n\nShe was nearing the bottom of a second page when the telephone bell rang. \"Mrs. Fletcher?\" said the switchboard girl. \"I got a Mr. Pascoli on the line. You wanna talk to him or shall I tell him you're out?\"\n\nOne of Kevin's cohort, no doubt. \"Put him through, please,\" Daisy said.\n\n\"Mrs. Fletcher, you O.K.?\"\n\n\"Yes, thanks. It's kind of you to ask.\"\n\n\"We've all been concerned. Tell the truth, I've got Louella Shurkowski hanging over my shoulder right this minute. You remember Louella?\"\n\n\"Certainly. Please give her my thanks. I wanted to ask you about Mr. Thorwald. He went to police headquarters?\"\n\n\"Yeah. I guess he's still there, but his lawyer was going to meet him there, so we're not too worried. Not too worried. Say, listen, I'd like to have a word with you about the situation, only not on the phone. Too many ears, get me? Can we meet?\"\n\n\"If you'd like to come here, to the hotel.\"\n\n\"Sure. I can't get away till around five.\"\n\n\"Right-oh, I'll meet you in the lobby a bit after five.\" With my cohort, Daisy thought. \"I hope you'll bring news of Mr. Thorwald. Cheerio till then.\"\n\n\"Uh... ? Oh, ciao,\" said Pascoli.\n\nChow? Daisy puzzled over it for a minute before deciding that either Pascoli had misheard her, or it was the American pronunciation of cheerio.\n\nDaisy finished the letter to Belinda, then handwrote a brief note to Mrs. Fletcher, who would undoubtedly object to a typed personal letter. So would Daisy's mother, to whom she next composed a note almost as brief. The Dowager Lady Dalrymple would complain about its brevity but would be equally displeased if forced to wade through pages of Daisy's handwriting. Somewhat longer letters to her sister and Lucy, her former housemate, left her satisfied with having done her duty by all.\n\nIn none of her epistles had she mentioned the murder. She had managed almost to forget it herself, for over an hour.\n\nFeeling rather an ass, she rang down to the switchboard and asked to be put through to Lambert's room. \"I'm going downstairs,\" she told him, \"to see if they have any postage stamps at the desk and leave some letters to be posted, and then I'm going to pop in to see the Misses Cabot. I don't need an escort, but I promised to let you know.\"\n\n\"But what if they don't have stamps?\" Lambert said in alarm. \"You mustn't go out looking for a post office.\"\n\n\"I'll send Stanley.\"\n\n\"Who?\"\n\n\"The buttons. Bellhop.\"\n\n\"O.K. I guess. I'll meet you down below at the elevator.\"\n\n\"It's really not necessary,\" Daisy protested, but he had rung off.\n\nHe was waiting for her, when she stepped out of Kevin's lift. \"I came down the stairs,\" he panted, \"to get here before you.\"\n\nDaisy sighed.\n\nHe accompanied her to the Cabots', where Miss Cabot was much too tenderhearted to make him wait outside. Daisy told Miss Genevieve about Mr. Thorwald being hauled off to police headquarters.\n\n\"As long as he has his lawyer with him,\" Miss Genevieve assured her, \"he won't come to any harm.\"\n\nDaisy wondered just what sort of harm her editor might come to if he had gone without his lawyer. The police in America seemed to be quite as dangerous as the criminals. She wasn't sure whether to be more afraid of Gilligan or the suppositious assassin who might or might not be after her.\n\nMiss Genevieve eagerly agreed to be with Daisy in the lobby when she met Pascoli. \"Not that I believe you have anything to fear from him,\" she added.\n\n\"Nor do I,\" Daisy agreed.\n\n\"Better safe than sorry,\" Lambert said firmly.\n\n\"Oh yes,\" said Miss Cabot, \"so very true!\"\n\n\"Poppycock,\" Miss Genevieve snorted. \"If everyone thought like that, we'd still be living in caves. Or at least walking everywhere, instead of riding in trains and automobiles.\"\n\n\"Oh dear, those newfangled automobiles, so dangerous! Papa would never set foot in one.\"\n\n\"But you have frequently travelled with me in a motor taxicab, sister and have come to no harm,\" Miss Genevieve pointed out. \"Now, what I could bear to do is go up in an airplane. Have you ever flown in an airplane, Mrs. Fletcher?\"\n\n\"No, but Alec has promised to take me up one day. He was a pilot in the Royal Flying Corps in the War. He flies an aeroplane now and then to preserve his skills. My stepdaughter, Belinda, has flown with him more than once, I believe, much against her grandmother's will.\"\n\n\"Oh dear!\" Miss Cabot shuddered. \"A little girl up in the air, it doesn't bear thinking of.\"\n\n\"Have you ever flown?\" Daisy asked Lambert.\n\n\"Who, me? In one of those kites? Oh boy, not hardly! An airship, now, that's different. You can understand why a dirigible stays up, helium being lighter than air. That's where the future of flight is, you betcha.\"\n\n\"Oh dear, it's simply not natural. If God had intended us to fly before we get to heaven, he would certainly have given us wings here below instead of trains.\"\n\nDaisy blinked and decided this curious proposition was not worth refuting. \"I'm quite looking forward to it,\" she said, \"if Alec ever has time to take me when we get home. The view must be breathtaking.\"\n\n\"As long as you don't do it while I'm trying to take care of you,\" said Lambert.\n\n\"That'll soon be over,\" Daisy reminded him. No doubt he'd be almost as happy as she would when Alec arrived.\n\nThey stayed with the Cabot sisters until it was time to go down to the lobby. Miss Genevieve, struggling to her feet, suggested she should be the one to give Pascoli information on the case, assuming that was really what he came for.\n\n\"Please do,\" said Daisy. \"You'll know what he should be told, much better than I.\"\n\n\"And what's better not told,\" Miss Genevieve agreed.\n\nKevin took them down. \"This Pascoli guy,\" he said sternly to Daisy, \"you know him?\"\n\n\"I've met him.\" How on earth did Kevin know Daisy was meeting Pascoli?\n\nOn second thoughts, that was an easy question to answer. The hotel switchboard girl had told him. Pascoli was right to be wary of eavesdroppers.\n\n\"Well, you be careful, you hear? I got my people watching, but if he pulls a gat, there ain't nuttin much they can do. Hey, Mr. Lambert, sir, you maybe better frisk him soon as he gets here.\"\n\nLambert's jaw dropped, but he managed not to say, \"Who, me?\" \"I\u2014I guess so,\" he stammered instead.\n\n\"Frisk?\" Daisy asked.\n\n\"Check to see is he packing heat,\" Kevin explained. \"I'll see you get some 'Irish tea' right away, sir. What you need's Dutch courage.\"\n\n\"I guess so,\" Lambert agreed gratefully.\n\nKevin ushered them out of the lift and through to the lobby. There he seized Stanley\u2014his inferior in age, size, and cheekiness\u2014by the ear. \"Here, you order tea for the ladies and a spot of the Irish for Mr. Lambert. And put some pep in it!\"\n\n\"I always do!\" Stanley buzzed off to the restaurant to pass on the order, and Kevin, seeing the desk clerk coming in to take over from the manager, dashed back to his lift.\n\nOnly one other couple was in the lobby, and they left after a few minutes. A waiter arrived, his tray laden with two teapots and the cakes and biscuits for which the Misses Cabot must have a standing order. \"Indian,\" he said, setting the large pot before Miss Cabot. The small one was deposited in front of Lambert. \"Irish. I'll need cash for that.\"\n\nWhile Lambert fumbled for his wallet, Daisy reached for her handbag, saying, \"Let me treat you both, Miss Cabot.\"\n\n\"So kind!\"\n\n\"No, no,\" said Miss Genevieve. \"My dear Mrs. Fletcher, you eat like a bird. It can go on our tab.\"\n\nDaisy had never in her life been told she ate like a bird; in fact her mother had frequently castigated her for eating like a horse. She smiled and gave in gracefully.\n\nMiss Genevieve regarded Lambert with disapproval. \"You're a federal agent,\" she reminded him as he picked up his cup and took a gulp of whiskey.\n\nHe choked, coughing and spluttering while tears came to his eyes. When he had recovered his breath, he begged, \"You won't report me?\"\n\n\"Do I look like a police nark?\" Miss Genevieve demanded in outraged tones.\n\n\"Something's been puzzling me,\" Daisy put in quickly. \"The first time I saw Carmody, he took a nip of spirits from a flask. Yet I'm sure he was interested in Kevin's arrangements from the muckraking reporter's point of view, not as a source of supply for himself. If he drank himself, why would he want to expose someone dealing in drink?\"\n\n\"What makes you think so?\" asked Miss Genevieve.\n\nDaisy thought back. \"We were in the elevator. Kevin whispered to me that he could get me genuine Irish whiskey and it was quite safe because all the 'right people' had been paid off. I don't know how much Carmody overheard, but at the very least he heard 'paid off.' Kevin cleverly pretended he'd been telling me his brother was laid off.\"\n\n\"That's it, then. Carmody wasn't interested in bootlegging as such, only in the police accepting bribes to ignore it.\"\n\n\"Oh yes, that's much more...\"\n\n\"Here's Pascoli,\" said Lambert, who was facing the door. \"Do I really have to frisk him?\"\n\n\"No,\" said Daisy.\n\n\"Yes,\" said Miss Genevieve.\n\n\"Better safe than sorry,\" said Miss Cabot brightly.\n\nLambert stood up, squaring his shoulders. \"Aw, gee,\" he said, \"Mr. Thorwald's come, too.\"\n\n\"Don't you dare frisk Mr. Thorwald!\" said Daisy. \"He'd never buy another article from me. And he won't be happy if you frisk his colleague, either.\"\n\n\"Oh dear,\" said Miss Cabot, \"but better safe than sorry, you know.\"\n\nHowever, Daisy's protest resonated strongly with Miss Genevieve. When Lambert looked at her she shrugged, sighed, and nodded. The two editors were permitted to approach unfrisked, though Lambert observed them closely as if trying to spot unnatural bulges.\n\nThis constant vigilance and endless suspense were very wearing on the nerves, Daisy thought. What with one thing and another, she thanked heaven that Alec was not an American policeman!\n\nDaisy went to meet the editors. \"Hello, Mr. Pascoli,\" she said. \"Mr. Thorwald, I'm frightfully glad to see you're safe and sound.\"\n\nThorwald took her hand in both his. \"My dear Mrs. Fletcher, I'm most sincerely obliged to you for your advice and encouragement in a situation in which I felt myself at a considerable disadvantage.\"\n\nNow Daisy felt herself at a considerable disadvantage, due to her upbringing. Miss Genevieve, no doubt, would have seized the moment to request an increase in her remuneration. Daisy could only murmur, \"It was nothing,\" and hope his gratitude was long-lasting.\n\n\"What did they want?\" she continued, leading the way back to the others. \"Gilligan and Rosenblatt, I mean.\"\n\n\"Exactly as you suggested, Rosenblatt wanted my narrative reiterated, and Gilligan desired me to scrutinize a person whom he held in custody.\"\n\n\"Barton Bender. You didn't recognize him, did you?\"\n\n\"Certainly not. While circumstances may upon occasion require one to be in proximity to such individuals, I don't hesitate to affirm that no male acquaintance of mine would adorn his person with such a quantity of gold and gems, to say nothing of the excessive and disagreeable effluvium of bay rum which remained in the atmosphere after his departure!\"\n\nDaisy didn't think Thorwald had quite understood the purpose of the exercise, but as she was quite certain Bender had not himself shot Carmody, she held her peace. \"Miss Cabot, Miss Genevieve,\" she said, \"may I introduce Mr. Thorwald and Mr. Pascoli?\"\n\n\"So happy to meet you,\" twittered Miss Cabot. \"Will you take tea?\"\n\nMiss Genevieve regarded the gentlemen with interest as they bowed, Pascoli dismayed, Thorwald with a look of foreboding. \"Sigurd Thorwald,\" she pronounced, \"so you're an editor now. I suppose it was inevitable.\"\n\n\"I'm most obliged to you, ma'am,\" said Thorwald in surprise, taking off his pince-nez and polishing the lenses vigorously.\n\n\"Always did use half a dozen words where one would suffice, but I dare say you're quite capable of cutting other people's words to good effect.\"\n\nIn the meantime, Pascoli drew Daisy aside and said, \"I hoped for a word with you in private, Mrs. Fletcher. I'd like to discuss the Carmody case and the old ladies won't want to talk murder.\"\n\n\"On the contrary. Miss Genevieve knows just as much about it as I do,\" Daisy assured him, \"and she's positively eager to discuss it. Maybe you've heard of Eugene Cannon?\"\n\n\"Sounds familiar,\" said Pascoli, puzzled. \"Oh, you mean the crime reporter? Yes, his writing was held up to me as a model when I started in the business, but he was pretty near retirement then. I never met him. Why? Just a minute, there was something odd about him. I can't remember...\"\n\n\"He was a she. Eugene Cannon was Genevieve Cabot.\"\n\nPascoli swung round to stare at Miss Genevieve. \"This lady here? Oh boy!\"\n\nMiss Genevieve stared back, critically.\n\n\"Mr. Pascoli is interested in Carmody's murder,\" Daisy said to her. \"You've been in the news business. I'm sure you know much better than I what information will be useful to him.\"\n\n\"Town Talk?\" Miss Genevieve's eyes gleamed. \"I expect I can give you a few pointers, young man. Sit down.\"\n\nDaisy left them to it, turning to Thorwald, while Lambert divided his attention between the two conversations.\n\n\"Tell me what happened at police headquarters and the D.A.'s Office,\" Daisy invited.\n\n\"I consider myself exceptionally fortunate that my profession has never required me to frequent Centre Street,\" Thorwald began. \"In actual fact, today was the occasion of my first visit to that abominable place.\"\n\n\"And you went as a witness, not a journalist,\" Daisy said sympathetically.\n\n\"Indeed! The headquarters building I cannot bring myself to describe to a lady of refinement. Suffice it to say that I was escorted to an apartment of the most sordid aspect, which my lawyer later informed me was one of the better rooms. There Detective Sergeant Gilligan interrogated me in an unpleasantly hectoring fashion, demanding a repetition of the narrative with which I obliged him immediately after the crime.\"\n\n\"I'm afraid the police practically always want to hear one's story at least twice. One often recalls later details which seemed insignificant at the time.\"\n\n\"My description of the scene did differ in significant respects from the original of yesterday,\" he admitted, \"according to the sergeant, that is. He made no allowance for the fact that I was at that time... ahem... indisposed. He appeared to believe that I had deliberately misled him!\" Thorwald took off his pince-nez again and blotted his forehead with his handkerchief. \"I cannot say, my dear Mrs. Fletcher, how inestimably grateful I am for the advice you gave me over the telephone, to insist upon my lawyer's attendance.\"\n\n\"It seemed a sensible precaution. In England, the police have to warn suspects that their words may be used against them, and that they have a right to legal representation. I suppose there's nothing like that here?\"\n\n\"If so, it is, I believe, 'more honoured in the breach than the observance,' but I am unacquainted with criminal law. Certainly Sergeant Gilligan never made any such communication to me.\"\n\n\"I expect it's just because you're a witness, not a suspect,\" Daisy said soothingly. \"Your lawyer put an end to the harassment, I take it.\"\n\nShe paused as the waiter returned with tea for the two editors\u2014two small pots. Pascoli must have given Stanley an order for the real thing for Thorwald and Irish for himself. Thorwald poured himself a cup, the rising steam confirming half Daisy's guess.\n\n\"By the way,\" she went on, \"did you recall anything helpful about the crime? Were you able to tell Gilligan where the shot came from?\"\n\n\"I'm convinced it came from beyond the elevators.\" Thorwald sounded confident. \"However, when I so declared to the sergeant, he became abusive. If I understood him correctly, he is hoping for evidence which will implicate Mr. Lambert, who, like us, approached from the opposite direction.\"\n\n\"Who, me?\" asked Lambert, aghast. \"He wants to send me up the river? What about Barton Bender?\"\n\n\"If Barton Bender is the person bedizened with gold and diamonds whom I was asked to identify, then I believe he has been released, there being no grounds to arrest him. My impression was that he is still under extreme suspicion. Detective Sergeant Gilligan's interest in Mr. Lambert, on the other hand, is of a purely sanguine nature. He little expects to succeed, but should he find credible evidence against Mr. Lambert, it will enable him to\u2014as he expressed it\u2014get the Feds off of his back.\"\n\n\"But it won't!\" Lambert squawked. \"I told him Washington is sending another agent. A guy called Whitaker's going to arrive this afternoon.\"\n\n\"Perhaps Gilligan hoped Mr. Whitaker would be too taken up with exonerating you to delve into the police department's or Tammany's misdeeds,\" Daisy suggested. \"Anyway, you needn't worry. Mr. Thorwald is sure the shot came from the opposite direction. Which makes me think: what if the man on the stairs was neither the murderer nor a frightened witness but actually the intended victim?\"\n\n\"Gee whiz,\" said Lambert, impressed, \"that would sure explain why he ran away.\"\n\nDaisy pursued the idea. \"And if he was Wilbur Pitt, it would explain why no one has seen him since then.\"\n\n\"Who is Wilbur Pitt?\" Thorwald wanted to know.\n\n\"Otis Carmody's cousin. He has a room here at the Chelsea, but he hasn't come in since yesterday.\"\n\n\"Might the attack possibly stem from some species of primitive feud?\" Thorwald proposed hesitantly. \"That is, the murderer is an individual with animosity towards both Carmody and his relative?\"\n\n\"Gee, yes, a grudge against the family! After all, they come from the sticks, like the Hatfields and the McCoys.\"\n\n\"Capulets and Montagues.\"\n\n\"Hardly,\" Daisy deflated them. \"There was only one shot. There's no reason to suppose more than one victim was aimed at. But there is reason to suppose the shooter was a rotten shot\u2014otherwise why wasn't Carmody killed outright? He could very well have aimed at Pitt and hit Carmody by accident.\"\n\n\"If the man on the stairs was Pitt,\" Lambert said a bit sulkily. He had rather fancied his Hatfields and McCoys, whoever they were, and whatever the sticks were. \"How do you know Pitt hasn't come in since yesterday?\"\n\n\"Actually, I don't,\" Daisy was forced to concede. \"All I know is that Kevin\u2014the lift boy\u2014hasn't seen him since yesterday, and there's not much escapes that lad's eye.\"\n\n\"He's only here days,\" Lambert pointed out. \"Besides, if Pitt's fleeing a would-be murderer, he could always come in the back way like we went out.\"\n\n\"The man in the bowler hat!\" said Daisy triumphantly.\n\nThorwald blinked at her, looking thoroughly bewildered. \"You said his name was William.\"\n\n\"At that time, I'd only heard him referred to as Willie. Oh, never mind, that's all conjecture. Did you learn anything of substance when you saw Mr. Rosenblatt? Tell me about that interview. Did you see him in the same place as Gilligan?\"\n\n\"No, no, the Criminal Courts Building presents quite a different ambiance. Though distinctly shabby now, it was once an elegant edifice, with marble pillars and balustrades and ornate iron scrollwork. Mr. Rosenblatt's office has beautiful golden-oak woodwork and a bronze and porcelain chandelier depending from the high ceiling. The view from the window, however, is unpleasant, not to say sinister.\"\n\n\"How so?\"\n\n\"It looks out onto the Tombs,\" pronounced Thorwald in a voice of doom.\n\n\"Whose tombs?\" Daisy asked.\n\n\"The Tombs is a prison. I believe it was constructed on a graveyard, hence the appellation. Its round grey tower cannot but bring to mind those ancient castles whose dungeons were the scene of unspeakable torments.\"\n\n\"I'm glad you only saw it from the outside. Rosenblatt didn't threaten you with incarceration, did he?\"\n\n\"Happily, no. He questioned me closely about you, my dear Mrs. Fletcher. Naturally I was able to assure him most fervently that your antecedents are well known to me and of the utmost respectability.\"\n\n\"Thank you!\"\n\n\"Not to say nobility.\"\n\n\"Please, Mr. Thorwald, I allowed the use of my courtesy title on my articles, but we did agree it was not to be mentioned otherwise. You told Mr. Rosenblatt about the direction the shot came from, I assume? Was his reaction as extreme as Sergeant Gilligan's?\"\n\n\"By no means. He declared himself satisfied to have the problem solved.\"\n\n\"So the D.A.'s not looking to frame me?\" Lambert said in relief.\n\n\"Frame?\" Daisy asked. \"Is that the same as send up the river?\"\n\n\"Not exactly. It's fixing the evidence to make it look like your fall guy's guilty.\"\n\n\"Fall guy? Scapegoat, I suppose.\" Daisy sighed. \"I was beginning to think I understood American! Surely the police wouldn't do that?\"\n\n\"You can betcha sweet life they would,\" said Lambert gloomily.\n\n\"Not to a federal agent,\" Thorwald said, \"not when it would undoubtedly induce an even closer scrutiny of New York police practices than will already eventuate from this disgraceful affair.\"\n\n\"In any case,\" Daisy reminded Lambert, \"Mr. Thorwald's evidence exculpates you, so you have nothing to worry about. What I want to know is whether I have anything to worry about. Is there really a chance some bullyboy is after me because I'm the only witness who saw the murderer's face?\"\n\n\"Jumping jiminy!\" Thorwald exclaimed, appalled.\n\nThis outcry from his undemonstrative colleague drew Pascoli's attention. \"What's that?\" he queried.\n\nBoth Daisy and Lambert started to explain. Before they had sorted out who was going to speak, they were interrupted.\n\nBalfour burst through the glass swing doors from the street. \"Miz Fletcher, ma'am,\" he cried, \"a man headin' this way and he walk like he totin' a gun!\"\n\nLambert jumped up. \"Get under the table, Mrs. Fletcher,\" he ordered incisively.\n\n\"It's glass!\" Daisy pointed out. \"He's probably not coming here anyway. Besides, how can one possibly tell from the way a man walks that he's got a gun?\"\n\n\"You can tell,\" Lambert, Pascoli, and Miss Genevieve all affirmed at once. Balfour elaborated, \"He kinda swaggerin', like he not afeared o' nuttin. You better hide, Miz Fletcher, ma'am! I'll go slow him down.\"\n\n\"I'm sure he'll walk on past, but if not, don't put yourself in danger, Balfour. And thanks for the warning.\"\n\nAs she spoke, Daisy was being hustled across the lobby by Lambert and Pascoli, both breathing whisky. Lambert opened the door leading to the passage to the Ladies' Sitting Room, thrust Daisy through, and shut the door behind her.\n\nIt was dark\u2014what Daisy had assumed to be a fanlight with iron tracery above the doorway admitted no gleam of light. Daisy promptly opened the door again, just an inch or two, and peered through the crack.\n\nKevin arrived on the scene, alerted by Stanley. He and Pascoli and Lambert stood in agitated consultation. Beyond them, Miss Genevieve waved her stick and demanded to take part. Sheer force of personality had the little group drifting towards her when a large man in a brown overcoat and soft felt hat bulled through the glass doors and strode across the lobby.\n\nDaisy's friends fell silent. Kevin hurried after him, towards the registration desk.\n\nThough Daisy couldn't see the desk, she heard the impatient ting-ting-ting of the bell. She thought she recognized Kevin's Irish American twang, presumably offering assistance. The stranger's voice was louder. Even so, Daisy only made out a couple of words, those most easily distinguished by any listener's ear: her own name.\n\nAs soon as Daisy heard the stranger pronounce her name, she eased the door shut with barely a click. So she actually was in danger! She hadn't truly believed all the fuss had any basis in reality.\n\nShe felt cold and shaky and much in need of Alec.\n\nWhat would he advise her to do? Instinct said, creep down the passage to the sitting room and find a window to climb out of. But where would she go then? It was getting dark outside. Common sense said she was safer here with all her friends to protect her.\n\nCommon sense went on muttering in her head. Wasn't it rather odd that a man who had come to kill her because she might recognize a face should walk into a hotel and show his own face to any number of people? Surely, even in America, he couldn't hope to get away with killing everyone who saw him!\n\nOn the other hand, who else could he be? Could Gilligan have sent a plainclothesman to take her to police headquarters? That prospect was almost as alarming as the notion of a hired assassin stalking her.\n\nA tap on the door made her jump. She held her breath as it opened. Though neither an assassin nor a policeman was likely to knock before coming after her, if he had somehow discovered her whereabouts, she was relieved to see Lambert. Behind him stood Thorwald and Pascoli, their backs turned, keeping watch.\n\nLambert had brought Stanley with him. The boy was hopping from foot to foot with excitement. \"I heard 'em!\" he blurted out. \"I snuck up an' listened. 'Whatcha want?' says Kevin. 'I wanna see Mrs. Fletcher,' says the guy, real sharp. 'Mrs. Fletcher checked out,' says Kevin, but Mr. Blick the desk clerk comes out an' hears him an' up an' says, 'No she ain't her key's not here so she oughta be in but our residents ain't always careful 'bout handing in their keys when they go out.'\"\n\nHe was forced to pause for breath, and Lambert put in, \"Because there's never anyone at the desk.\"\n\nStanley brushed this remark aside as the irrelevance it was. \"An' the guy says, 'Call up an' see is she in,' so Mr. Blick called an' there wasn't no answer, course, an' Mr. Blick says, 'Mrs. Fletcher's out,' an' the guy says, 'Mebbe she just don't feel like answering the phone I'll go up an' knock,' an' Mr. Blick, he makes Kevin take him, so I come an' tell the gennelmen.\"\n\n\"Good for you, Stanley!\" said Daisy.\n\n\"So we've got to get you away from here,\" said Lambert, \"before he comes down.\"\n\n\"Where could I go? I haven't even got my hat and coat.\" Daisy had an inspiration. \"Wouldn't the safest place be the Cabots' suite?\"\n\n\"Maybe, but it'd be mighty risky getting you up there. If we have to wait for the other elevator...\"\n\n\"I'll go up the stairs. It's only the second noor\u2014third to you. But let's not waste any more time. We'll have to ask Miss Genevieve's permission and get her key, and I don't want to be halfway across the lobby when that chap comes down again and gets out of Kevin's elevator!\"\n\nPascoli swung round. \"You go get the key, Lambert. Thorwald and I will take Mrs. Fletcher to the stairs, where she'll be outa sight. Come on, let's hustle!\"\n\nSo Daisy was hustled to the stairs, and then up them at a breathtaking pace which left Mr. Thorwald far behind. Lambert, youth on his side, overtook the Abroad editor and caught up with Daisy and Pascoli as they paused on the stairs just below the third-floor level.\n\n\"Here's the key,\" he panted, dropping it into Pascoli's extended hand.\n\n\"Bully! Now you better go check the elevator isn't passing by just when Mrs. Fletcher gets to the top of the stairs.\"\n\n\"O.K.\" Lambert sped off, to reappear a moment later on the landing above them. \"It's just coming down now.\"\n\n\"You watch and see is the bullyboy in it.\"\n\nIn the waiting hush, Daisy heard the lift mechanism's perpetual complaint. Its sudden cessation startled her and she took a step backwards. She had to grab the rail to save herself from a tumble, so that though she was aware of the clang of lift gates and then Lambert speaking in the passage above, she missed his first words.\n\n\"I left him knocking on Mrs. Fletcher's door.\" That was Kevin's anxious voice. \"I wasn't gonna wait and bring him back down not knowing where she is. You guys get her away safe?\"\n\n\"She's going to hide out in Miss Genevieve's place. Keep the elevator here while she goes past, O.K.?\"\n\n\"Sure.\"\n\nThorwald arrived from below as Lambert appeared again above to announce in a whisper from the side of his mouth, \"All clear!\"\n\nDaisy and Pascoli went on up, followed by Thorwald, huffing and puffing. Passing the lift, she waved at Kevin.\n\n\"You O.K. now, m'lady?\"\n\n\"Right as rain.\"\n\n\"Hot dog! I'll go on down now, keep an eye on what's going on,\" he said.\n\nMoments later the door of the Cabots' suite closed behind Daisy and her escort. Lambert stationed himself by the door, presumably to repel boarders. Daisy and Thorwald sank into chairs, while Pascoli started to read the framed newspaper articles hanging on the walls.\n\n\"Oh boy, Eugene Cannon sure was some dame!\" he exclaimed admiringly.\n\n\"In her heyday, she used to terrify me,\" Thorwald admitted.\n\nDaisy had expected \"Eugene Cannon\" and Miss Cabot to be hot on her heels, but the minutes ticked past and they didn't come. Lambert started to twitch.\n\n\"Maybe I better go see what's happening,\" he muttered.\n\n\"No!\" said Pascoli. \"The less coming and going the better. I bet Miss Genevieve's waiting downstairs so she can tell us when the big galoot leaves.\"\n\n\"What shall I do if he doesn't?\" Daisy fretted. \"Suppose he finds out somehow where I am and comes knocking on the door?\"\n\nAs if in response to her words, someone knocked. Everyone froze.\n\n\"Who's there?\" Lambert enquired cautiously.\n\n\"Who do you think? Let me in, you fool. You have my key.\"\n\nMiss Genevieve lumbered in, her sister fluttering after her. Behind them came Kevin, sporting one red ear and waving two envelopes.\n\n\"He left a message for you, ma'am, and one for Mr. Lambert. Warning him to stay outta the way, you betcha. I went and got 'em for you, but Mr. Blick caught me and gave me a thick ear. I tol' him you asked me to get it for you, only he said it's Stanley's job running errands and I oughta be in my elevator. So I got Stanley to give 'em to me,\" he ended triumphantly, handing one note to Daisy and the other to Lambert. \"Whassit say?\"\n\nThough she gave him a severe glance, Miss Genevieve seconded his question. \"Do please read it out, Mrs. Fletcher. We are all agog. Mr. Pascoli, you will find a paper knife on my desk.\"\n\nWith the utilitarian steel blade, Daisy slit the envelope\u2014hotel stationery\u2014and took out a single sheet, which she handled gingerly by the edges. \"Fingerprints,\" she explained, unfolding it.\n\nThe writing was large, at first glance straight from a copybook but actually quite difficult to decipher. \"'Dear Mrs. Fletcher,'\" Daisy read with a frown of puzzlement. \"How odd to be so polite if his aim is to...\" Her eyes flew to the end. \"And it closes, 'Yours truly.' It's signed! I can't read the signature, but underneath he's printed...\" A half hysterical giggle escaped her. \"It says, 'Agent, Bureau of Investigation, U.S. Department of Justice.'\"\n\n\"Agent Whitaker!\" groaned Lambert, studying his note.\n\n\"Aw, punk!\" said Kevin in tones of deep disgust.\n\n\"Yes, that could be a W,\" Daisy said, examining the signature. She turned back to the body of the letter and managed to make some sense of it. \"My husband asked him to drop by when he reached New York, to make sure I'm all right.\"\n\n\"But I'm to stay on the job till Mr. Fletcher arrives,\" said Lambert.\n\n\"He's putting up at the something Hotel\u2014I can't make out the name\u2014and will come back tomorrow morning when he's talked to the local police.\"\n\n\"My dear Miss Dal... Mrs. Fletcher,\" said Thorwald, \"do I understand correctly that the immediate jeopardy is averted? Permit me to congratulate you most sincerely.\"\n\n\"It don't mean there ain't some other creep after her,\" Kevin said hopefully.\n\n\"Very true,\" Miss Genevieve agreed.\n\n\"Oh dear! Surely, sister...\"\n\n\"I hope, young man, that you and your colleagues will continue to keep a watch for suspicious characters.\"\n\n\"I gotta go home soon, ma'am,\" Kevin deplored, \"but I'll sure get the night shift on the job.\"\n\n\"Kevin,\" said Daisy warmly, \"you're an angel. If Mr. Whitaker had really been out for my blood, only your organization would have saved me.\"\n\nBehind the freckles, Kevin blushed rosy red. \"Aw, geez, m'lady, it wasn't nuttin.\"\n\n\"Indeed, we are deeply indebted to your vigilance, my boy.\" Thorwald slipped him a crackling green note, which disappeared with a practised ease.\n\n\"Tell you what,\" said Pascoli, \"you ever need a job, you come to me. The news business can always use a kid with get-up-and-go. Here's my card.\"\n\n\"Yes, sir! I gotta get back to work now, or ol' Blick'll have conniptions.\" Kevin's hand went up protectively to his ear as he departed.\n\n\"Gosh,\" said Daisy, suddenly exhausted, \"I want to thank all of you for coming so nobly to the rescue. And now I think I'll go and lie down for a bit after all the brouhaha.\"\n\nThough she left the bedside light on, intending to read, Daisy actually dozed off. Through her dreams floated faces from Gilligan's mug book, with Barton Bender's broad, greasy face looming over them in the guise of a dirigible. In the basket dangling below the airship, a scarlet-and-white cat with Mrs. Carmody's face preened itself with long, painted talons. It kept fading, like the Cheshire cat, leaving a sharp-toothed grin. On the ground, a figure in a bowler hat and a bandit's bandanna mask aimed a crossbow at the airship and shot it. Deflating, Barton Bender whizzed around madly, growing smaller and smaller until he disappeared. Meanwhile his lady love turned into a winged crocodile, weeping copiously, and flew away. \"Rats!\" said Detective Sergeant Gilligan. \"Angels and ministers of grace defend us!\"\n\n\"That's Hamlet's line,\" murmured Daisy, waking up.\n\nNot long ago, a dream had helped her solve a murder, so she lay for a few minutes pondering the images. Nothing significant emerged from her ruminations, however, and pangs of hunger began to gnaw at her vitals. What with one thing and another, her tea had been skimpy. It was time for dinner.\n\nDinner with Lambert, she supposed, but she'd soon be rid of him. She resolved to be extra nice to him.\n\nHe was waiting in the passage outside her room. Thorwald and Pascoli were both waiting in the lobby below.\n\n\"Better safe than sorry,\" said Pascoli cheerfully, \"and the more the merrier. Thanks to you, Mrs. Fletcher, I've gotten some swell copy. Dinner's on Town Talk.\"\n\nThe ebullient news editor took them to what he called a \"joint,\" where a furtive waiter provided a water carafe filled with white wine, which they drank from tumblers. After half a glass, Daisy stopped worrying about what the A.C. (Crime) would say to a headline reading \"Joint raided, Scotland Yard 'tec's wife pinched.\" She stopped at half a glass, though, as she didn't want to risk getting tiddly and missing Alec at the station.\n\nThe wine only made her more determined to meet his train, in spite of Lambert's disapproval. Penn Station, he pointed out, was an ideal spot for any skulduggery instigated by Tammany or Bender.\n\n\"You needn't come,\" she said.\n\n\"We'll all come,\" said Pascoli. \"There won't be any shenanigans with three of us to guard you.\"\n\nWhether or not they averted shenanigans and skulduggery, Daisy was glad of her triple escort. Beneath the Roman pillars of the Baths of Caracalla and the lacy Victorian ironwork of the vast railway terminal, spread a netherworld, a Greek labyrinth of cavernous halls and gloomy tunnels. Not so very different from the London Underground, perhaps, but Daisy knew the Tube like the back of her hand and had always felt perfectly safe there.\n\nHere, it was all too easy to imagine an assassin around every corner, or someone creeping up behind her, unheard in the constant din of loudspeaker announcements, rumbling luggage trolleys, and locomotive whistles. Besides, she was sure she would have got lost had not Pascoli and Thorwald steered her straight to the right platform.\n\nThe editors and Lambert clustered about her, keeping a lookout in every direction, as the train chugged in. Daisy had eyes only for the passengers as they swung or clambered down the steps from the high train to the low platform. Though Alec's dark hair was hidden by his hat, she spotted him as soon as his head appeared through a door.\n\nWaving madly, she started walking towards him. The walk turned into a run, and she dodged between travellers and porters, one hand holding her hat on. He dropped his attach\u00e9 case and Gladstone bag to catch her in his arms.\n\n\"Darling,\" she said, smiling so hard it hurt, \"I've missed you most frightfully!\" And then she astonished herself and him by bursting into tears on his chest.\n\nAlec was horrified. \"Great Scott, Daisy, you never cry! Hush, love. It's not these wretched New York police that have upset you, is it? I've been hearing stories about them which would make your hair stand on end.\"\n\n\"I've heard them, too, darling.\" Sniffing, Daisy pulled away enough to straighten her hat and blink up at him. His hand went to his pocket. \"No, I don't need your hankie. I'm all right, honestly. Only don't let's talk about the police, or the murder, or anything like that tonight. I'll tell you all about it tomorrow.\"\n\n\"O.K. by me, as they say.\" He looked tired, Daisy noticed. \"Let's get back to your hotel.\"\n\nAs he reached for his bags, Lambert said eagerly, \"I'll take those, sir!\" Daisy's escort had caught up with her.\n\n\"This is Agent Lambert, darling, my guardian angel.\" In response to Alec's darkly lowering eyebrows, she hurried on, \"And my editor, Mr. Thorwald, and his colleague, Mr. Pascoli. They kindly accompanied me here so that I wouldn't get lost.\"\n\n\"And so... ,\" Lambert began, but Daisy's frown cut him short. \"Uh, yes, I guess you want a cab, sir?\"\n\nOutside the station, they parted from Thorwald and Pascoli. Much as she wanted to be alone with Alec, Daisy was too well brought up to leave Lambert to take a separate cab to the Chelsea. As they set off, Alec said witheringly, \"So you're my wife's guardian angel, are you, Lambert?\"\n\nThough the streetlamps shed little light inside the cab, Daisy was certain the young agent's ears were red. \"Gee, sir,\" he stammered, \"I'm mighty sorry I didn't...\"\n\n\"It's not your fault,\" Daisy interrupted. \"He couldn't help it, darling.\"\n\nAlec sighed. \"No, who am I to find fault? I've never managed to keep you out of trouble. I beg your pardon, Lambert. You must explain to me exactly how it all came about.\"\n\n\"Tomorrow,\" Daisy said firmly. \"You promised we wouldn't talk about it till tomorrow. Let's meet for breakfast and get it all over with before Mr. Whitaker turns up.\"\n\n\"Good idea, love.\"\n\n\"Not in the hotel dining room,\" said Lambert, in what Daisy recognized as his cloak-and-dagger voice. \"You never know who's listening.\"\n\nTrue, Kevin would undoubtedly find out somehow what was said, but he knew most of it already. It wasn't worth the effort of reminding Lambert that practically no guests at the Hotel Chelsea came down for breakfast, and in any case no one but the Misses Cabot had shown the least interest.\n\n\"Right-oh,\" said Daisy.\n\nAfter breakfast and explanations, Daisy, Alec, and Lambert returned to the hotel to find the Misses Cabot lying in wait in the lobby, commanding a view of the entrance. Daisy had told Alec about Miss Cabot's kindness and Miss Genevieve's part in protecting her from Sergeant Gilligan. Doffing his hat, he submitted to being introduced in his full glory: Detective Chief Inspector Fletcher of New Scotland Yard.\n\nMiss Cabot was thrilled. \"Now that you're here, Chief Inspector,\" she declared, \"this terrible business will be cleared up in no time.\"\n\n\"I'm afraid not, ma'am. I have no access to the police investigation.\"\n\n\"I explained all that, sister!\"\n\n\"Oh dear! Well, at least dear Mrs. Fletcher will be quite safe now.\"\n\n\"I intend to make sure of that, ma'am, though I confess I find it difficult to believe that complete strangers are out after her blood!\"\n\n\"You do not know America, Mr. Fletcher,\" said Miss Genevieve grimly.\n\n\"As I have frequently been reminded these past few days,\" Alec admitted with a smile.\n\nMiss Genevieve grinned. \"All too frequently, I dare say. Do you want me to see what strings I can pull to let you involve yourself in the official investigation?\"\n\n\"Great Scott, ma'am, no thank you! I'm only afraid Whitaker, the agent from Washington, is going to drag me in further than I want to go. Mr. Hoover, the heir apparent of the Bureau of Investigation, instructed him to make sure I have every facility.\"\n\n\"This Hoover, now, tell me about him. A relative of Herbert Hoover, the Secretary of Commerce?\"\n\n\"I think not. J. Edgar Hoover's an odd little man. Literally little: to compensate, he wears shoe lifts and has his desk set on a platform. He's a bully, I'm afraid, and a bit of a bounder, but I believe he's sincere, obsessive even, in his intention of setting up an incorruptible national police force. Sincere and probably competent.\"\n\n\"Incorruptible, ha!\" snorted Miss Genevieve. \"That I'll believe when I see it with my own eyes, and even then... But to return to Otis Carmody's death, let me impart what I have learned from young Rosenblatt. Add it to what Mrs. Fletcher has undoubtedly told you, and I should value your opinion of the case.\"\n\nAs she spoke, a man turned away from the reception desk and headed for the main door at a rapid stride. He carried a shabby cardboard suitcase in one hand, his hat in the other.\n\nA bowler hat\u2014\"Gosh!\" said Daisy, her glance flying to his face as he hurried past. The features were nondescript, yet recognizable. \"Gosh, it's him! It's the man in the bowler hat.\" She jumped up. \"Alec...\"\n\nKevin dashed up. \"Mrs. Fletcher, that guy's Mr. Pitt, that you asked about. He came down the stairs or I'da tol' you sooner. He just checked out.\"\n\nWilbur Pitt, of course! That face was memorable because it was a blurred replica of Carmody's distinctive looks. His clothes explained the discrepancy between Daisy's and Lambert's description to Gilligan: he wore a thigh-length overcoat which looked less like a fashionable motoring coat than something cut down from an ancient frock coat.\n\nHe was out on the pavement by now. Daisy grabbed Alec's arm. \"Darling, we've got to stop him. Come along, quick. You, too, Mr. Lambert.\"\n\n\"Who, me?\"\n\n\"But Whitaker's coming, Daisy,\" Alec expostulated, even as her urgency made him rise to his feet, \"and anyway, you simply can't detain a stranger going about his lawful business!\"\n\n\"You don't understand, he's the man in the bowler hat.\" She practically dragged him towards the door. \"The man on the stairs. At least we must follow him so we can tell the police where to find him. We can't just let him get away. Now I know the man in the bowler hat is Carmody's cousin, I'm absolutely positive he's the murderer!\"\n\nDaisy rushed out to the street, followed by Alec, still remonstrating, and Lambert, bleating plaintively.\n\n\"We can't just let him get away,\" she repeated, stepping back up onto the doorstep to scan the scene. \"Maybe it is meddling, but by the time we find a policeman and persuade him... Balfour, which way did he go, the man who just came out?\"\n\n\"That way, Mrs. Fletcher, ma'am.\" The doorman pointed towards Seventh Avenue.\n\n\"Oh yes, thanks, I see him.\" Of the few bowler hats among the swarms of soft felts moving in every direction, only one was heading east. \"Come on, you two.\"\n\nTo her relief, Alec came. \"But only to follow him, Daisy,\" he insisted, jamming his own grey felt on his head. \"You are absolutely not on any account to approach him! Promise, or we'll stop right now.\"\n\n\"Right-oh, I promise, darling. Hurry!\"\n\n\"Don't get too close,\" Lambert warned. He too had scooped up his hat as they deserted the Cabots. As the opportunity for doing his cloak-and-dagger stuff dawned on him, he pulled it down over his eyebrows and went on buoyantly, \"That's the first rule of tailing a suspect.\"\n\nA tram rattled past them to the stop near the corner. Pitt darted towards it and disappeared.\n\n\"Oh blast!\" said Daisy, starting to run.\n\nA bell clanged and the tram set off again.\n\n\"Lost him,\" Alec observed hopefully.\n\n\"We'll catch the next streetcar,\" Lambert proposed.\n\n\"That's no good,\" Daisy objected. \"He could get off anywhere. Maybe he's going to the elevated railway on Sixth Avenue. If we run...\"\n\n\"There he is!\" exclaimed Lambert, pointing. \"Over there, just stepping up onto the sidewalk. He only crossed the street. After him!\"\n\nA sudden rush of traffic held them up. Daisy was on tenterhooks, sure they would lose Pitt. Even on tiptoe, she could see no sign of him among the crowds on the opposite pavement. But when at last the policeman on point duty let them cross, Lambert swore he still saw their quarry ahead.\n\n\"Alec, can you... Oh, I see him. Just a glimpse between all the people. Where is everyone going at this time in the morning?\" she demanded crossly, narrowly avoiding another pedestrian.\n\n\"Perhaps they're all pursuing suspected murderers,\" Alec suggested dryly. \"You do realize, Daisy, that I have no authority whatsoever to arrest your man whatever crimes he may have committed.\"\n\n\"I know. That's why I asked Mr. Lambert to come.\"\n\n\"Who, me? I can't arrest him!\"\n\n\"You could if he crossed into another state, couldn't you? You said something about crossing state lines to escape the police being a federal offence.\"\n\n\"Um, sort of,\" Lambert said cautiously. \"To escape prosecution, though, not just questioning. I think. Gilligan and Rosenblatt may want to grill Pitt, but we don't know for sure that he's committed an indictable offence.\"\n\n\"I'm sure.\" Daisy would have explained her deductions, but she needed her breath and her attention for the chase. At least, however unconvinced, Lambert and Alec were keeping pace as the bowler hat continued north on Seventh Avenue at a fast walk.\n\nThey crossed Twenty-sixth, Twenty-seventh, Twenty-ninth, and Thirtieth Streets. Daisy spared a thought for the missing Twenty-fourth, Twenty-fifth and Twenty-eighth. If they must have such a dull, though logical, system of naming streets, at least they ought to be consistent about it. But as they neared Thirty-first, her guess as to Pitt's aim turned into a certainty.\n\n\"He's going to Pennsylvania Station!\" she said. \"He's leaving New York. I bet he's going home. All we have to do is get on the same train, and as soon as he gets to the next state you can arrest him.\"\n\n\"I don't have a warrant,\" moaned Lambert. \"All I'm supposed to be doing is looking after you, not arresting people.\"\n\n\"Have you got your credentials on you?\" Alec asked.\n\nLambert felt his inside breast pocket. \"Ye-es.\"\n\n\"Then you can at least request assistance from the local police, wherever we run him to ground, until you've consulted Whitaker, Washington, or the New York authorities. Come on, having come so far, we ought at least to try to stand close enough to him in the ticket line to overhear his destination.\"\n\n\"You are a sport, darling!\" Daisy told him.\n\nHe gave her a rueful grin. \"I must be mad.\"\n\n\"That's all right. You haven't got Mr. Crane or the A.C. overlooking your every move here.\"\n\n\"Thank heaven!\" said Alec fervently.\n\nThey were crossing Thirty-first Street when Wilbur Pitt paused on the steps going up to the station and looked back. Daisy instinctively ducked her head.\n\nShe didn't think he would recognize her. This morning in the lobby he had marched straight ahead, intent on leaving the hotel, glancing neither to left nor right. In the Flatiron Building, though he had turned his head her way when she called out to him to stop, he had appeared far too distraught to take in what he was seeing. If they had passed each other in the hotel before she knew who he was, he might remember her, she supposed, but to catch sight of a fellow resident crossing a street not far from the hotel ought not to alarm him. Still, it seemed better not to let him glimpse her face.\n\nWhen she looked up again, he was gone.\n\n\"What if he already has a return ticket?\" she exclaimed, hurrying her step. \"He'll go straight to the platform and we'll never find him.\"\n\nLambert broke into a run, dodging through the crowds approaching and leaving the station. He hurdled the steps and disappeared between two of the grandiose pillars.\n\n\"He's hot on the trail,\" said Alec.\n\n\"Yes, he seems to have decided the pleasure of the chase outweighs the terror of actually catching Pitt and having to do something about it.\"\n\n\"Can't we just leave him to it?\"\n\n\"Alec!\" Daisy tugged him onward.\n\n\"Why not?\"\n\n\"Because I'm the only person who can identify him as the man who ran off down the stairs just after Carmody was shot. We told you, Lambert had his specs knocked off and couldn't tell Pitt from Adam.\"\n\nAlec snorted. \"Young whippersnapper. I wish I'd heard the story before I met your Mr. Thorwald. I'd have liked to shake his hand.\" He paused at the top of the steps, where Pitt had stopped before. \"You are absolutely certain of your identification, aren't you? A wild-goose chase would be bad enough, but great Scott, Daisy, the prospect of harassing a perfectly respectable citizen makes me shudder.\"\n\n\"I'm positive.\" As they moved on into the immense, echoing spaces of the upper station, she guiltily confessed, \"That is, I'm positive he's the man on the stairs, and he's more than likely the murderer, but it is remotely possible he's just a frightened witness.\"\n\n\"Remotely possible?\" Alec sighed. \"In that case, I shouldn't dream of letting Lambert attempt an arrest. We'll try to discover where Pitt is off to and notify your friend Rosencrantz.\"\n\n\"My friend! He's not as ghastly as Guildenstern, but only because he has better manners. Here comes Lambert. What's up?\"\n\n\"Pitt's in the ticket line. There's lots of people ahead of him but only a couple behind him so far, so I figured I'd better find you and put you wise.\"\n\n\"Quite right,\" Alec told him.\n\nLambert positively glowed. \"I'll go and get in line behind him now,\" he said eagerly, turning back towards the ticket office. \"I'll get three tickets to wherever he's going.\"\n\n\"Have you got enough money on you?\" Daisy asked. \"He may be going clear across the country.\"\n\n\"I guess not,\" Lambert admitted, crestfallen.\n\n\"Let's first find out what his destination is,\" said Alec. \"Then we can decide what to do next.\"\n\n\"O.K.\"\n\n\"You should be the one to stand in line, darling. He might have seen either of us around the hotel and wonder what we're doing close behind him.\"\n\n\"Possibly, but there's no earthly reason why Lambert shouldn't be buying a railway ticket. He's more likely to recognize the name of some obscure American city than I am.\"\n\n\"I'll go!\" Lambert went.\n\n\"If you ask me,\" Daisy said darkly, \"you're just trying to avoid getting any more involved than absolutely necessary.\"\n\n\"You're absolutely right,\" Alec agreed, \"though whether any of this is necessary in the absolute sense... No, don't tell me again! I'm still with you, am I not?\"\n\n\"Only because you don't trust me out of your sight.\"\n\n\"With good reason,\" Alec pointed out dryly.\n\n\"Just think, darling, how simply spiffing it would be if Scotland Yard and I between us caught the murderer. Wouldn't that be one in the eye for Rosencrantz and Guildenstern!\"\n\n\"When you put it like that, my love, how can I resist? Ah, here comes... Something's gone wrong. Come on!\"\n\nLambert was gesturing frantically at them. Beyond him, Daisy caught a glimpse of a bowler hat rapidly disappearing down one of the stairways to the lower level. Seeing he had their attention, Lambert turned and plunged after it.\n\nTheir pursuit was brought up short by a porter pulling a trolley laden with baggage across in front of them, followed by a massive woman with a nursemaid and three children. The whole lot stopped right there for the porter to patiently assure the woman, \"Sure, lady, I got the blue grip. Here, see? O.K.?\"\n\n\"Not that one. The dark blue.\"\n\nAlec cut round in front of them. Daisy dashed the other way, just as one of the children dropped a ball. All three ran to retrieve it. The littlest toddled right into Daisy's path. To save herself from falling over him, she clutched the nearest support\u2014the biggest child's shoulder.\n\n\"Mommy, she grabbed me!\"\n\nAlec was already at the top of the steps. No time for explanations. Daisy sped on, praying she would not hear a hue and cry of \"Kidnapper!\" raised behind her.\n\nAs she started down the steps, Alec reached the bottom. Gazing around, he apparently caught sight of Lambert, for he glanced up at Daisy, gave her a brief wave, and strode off.\n\n\"Blast!\" If she went down any faster, she would risk breaking her neck. What if she couldn't find Alec in the maze of tunnels? She'd have to retire ignominiously to the hotel and wait to hear from him. No doubt he'd be delighted to have her well out of the affair.\n\nJust when he seemed to have realized her pursuit of Pitt was worthwhile!\n\nAt the bottom, Daisy turned in the direction Alec had taken. She saw no sign of either him or Lambert. Ahead of her, gaped the mouths of several tunnels. A bewilderment of signs directed her steps, none of which helped as she didn't understand them and didn't know where she wanted to go, anyway.\n\nNor did she dare stand still, in case the fat woman above had summoned a policeman. What if she were arrested for attempted kidnapping and had to appeal to Sergeant Gilligan to vouch for her? Not only would it be horribly humiliating, but she'd miss the chase after Pitt.\n\nShe moved uncertainly towards the tunnels. Just as she reached the point where she would have to decide which way to go, and probably lose Alec and Lambert altogether, the latter appeared.\n\n\"This way, Mrs. Fletcher. Quick!\"\n\n\"What's happened?\" Daisy asked, joining him and hurrying down a tunnel at his side.\n\nLambert blushed. \"I guess it was my fault. I pulled my hat down at the front, like you told me not to, and turned my coat collar up. Pitt got kind of twitchy standing in line and kept looking around. I guess he noticed me watching him, and then next time he looked around, there I was watching him again.\"\n\n\"With those glasses lurking between hat and collar, you must have been rather conspicuous.\"\n\n\"I can't take off my glasses. I can't see a thing without them,\" he reminded her anxiously.\n\n\"No, but with your collar down and your hat in a normal position\u2014push it a bit further back and tilt it at a jaunty angle. That's better.\"\n\nLambert was dubious. \"I'm not exactly a jaunty sort of person.\"\n\n\"Pitt doesn't know anything about your character. Think of it as a disguise.\"\n\n\"Oh, a disguise! O.K. Mr. Fletcher took over tailing Pitt and sent me back to find you.\"\n\n\"Where's Pitt going?\"\n\n\"The subway, I guess. I have to admit, I haven't figured out their system. All the signs seem to be the names of companies, not where the trains are going.\"\n\n\"No wonder I can't make head or tail of them. I wonder whether Pitt can?\"\n\n\"Gee, not likely. He's a backwoodsman, isn't he? Maybe he's just chasing his nose.\"\n\n\"I'm sure his aim was to get back to his backwoods, but now he's simply trying to escape us. You, anyway. With any luck, he hasn't caught on yet to Alec and me.\"\n\n\"Do you think I ought to quit?\" Lambert asked wistfully.\n\n\"No! We need you. You're the only one with official standing. But I thought you weren't frightfully keen.\"\n\n\"That was before. Look, there's Mr. Fletcher.\"\n\nAlec was standing on the platform just beyond the barrier, facing their way. Seeing Daisy and Lambert, he gestured urgently. Daisy heard the rumble of an approaching train.\n\nHastily she and Lambert paid and passed through the barrier as brakes screeched.\n\n\"Don't look to your right,\" Alec muttered. \"Head straight for the train, but don't get on till I say.\"\n\nThe train came to a halt. Doors opened. Alec glanced casually to his left, and then to his right, as if looking for an uncrowded carriage\u2014not that much was visible through the filthy windows.\n\n\"Right-oh, he's got in. Let's go.\"\n\nThe New York business day started early, in conformity with the motto \"Time is Money.\" At this time in the morning, the subway was well patronized but not crammed with passengers. They found three seats together, next to a door.\n\n\"How will we know when Pitt gets off?\" Daisy asked as the train rattled into motion.\n\nIn the echoing din, compounded by the bellowed conversation of their fellow travellers, Alec's reply was inaudible. It wasn't something he could shout to her, unlikely as it seemed that anyone could conceivably overhear.\n\nThe racket lessened somewhat as the train slowed for the next station. Alec leant over to Daisy and said in her ear, \"Don't get up, but be ready to hop off, both of you.\"\n\nDaisy leant over to Lambert and passed on the message.\n\nAlec joined the group of passengers waiting by the door. As soon as it opened, the surge carried him out onto the platform. Keeping a close watch on him, Daisy saw him look to the rear of the train, where Pitt had got on. He took a step back towards the door and beckoned.\n\nDaisy and Lambert jumped up and pushed out against the inward flow of boarders.\n\n\"'Times Square,'\" Daisy read the station sign. \"I wonder if he can change lines here, or if he'll just go straight back to Pennsylvania Station.\"\n\nAlec did not respond but put out an arm to stop the others following Pitt's receding figure too closely.\n\n\"The announcement said, 'Change here for... ,\" Lambert told her. \"But I didn't get for what.\"\n\n\"I didn't even catch the 'Change here,'\" Daisy said.\n\n\"Lambert, tie your shoelace!\" Alec suddenly ordered.\n\nLambert glanced down and protested, \"It's not untied!\" Then Daisy caught a glimpse of Pitt. The mass of people ahead were parting to pass around him as he paused in the mouth of the exit tunnel to stare back.\n\nThe crowd hid him from Daisy again, but Alec snapped, \"He's spotted us\u2014unless something else has alarmed him. Come on.\"\n\n\"I guess he spotted me,\" Lambert said humbly, striding along after Alec with Daisy trotting to keep up. \"I guess that's why Mr. Fletcher said to tie my shoes. I guess I got a lot to learn about tailing.\"\n\nSomehow Alec kept Pitt in sight. They followed the fugitive to Grand Central Terminal, where they almost lost him, and then onto another subway train. The next leg of the chase seemed to go on forever, to the point where Daisy began to wonder whether they were doomed to travel through subterranean tunnels for all eternity.\n\nShe also had time to wonder whether Wilbur Pitt had really been the man on the stairs. The horrid possibility dawned on her that she might have recognized his likeness to Carmody rather than to the face briefly seen in the Flatiron Building. How ghastly if Alec was right and they were harassing a respectable citizen!\n\nBut why should Pitt flee if he was perfectly respectable?\n\nDaisy recalled her own frightened efforts to escape the thugs who had never materialized. Pitt's cousin had been murdered, and he was being followed relentlessly by two men he didn't know. In his shoes, she would have done her utmost to shake off her pursuers, she acknowledged\u2014to herself.\n\nTo acknowledge to Alec that she could be mistaken was another matter. After all, she was no more sure she was wrong than sure she was right. If she breathed the slightest doubt, he was bound to abandon the pursuit at once.\n\nAnd she might be right.\n\nIt wouldn't hurt to find out where Pitt was going, she considered. Time enough then to decide what to do next.\n\nThe next station was taking a very long time to arrive. Returning to an awareness of her surroundings, Daisy heard one of her neighbours shouting to his companion, \"Yeah, under the East River, right this minute, you betcha. Wunnerful what modern science can do!\"\n\nSince she had passed beneath the Thames innumerable times, Daisy was not impressed. She was trying to work out where one would get to by crossing the East River, when she noticed that Lambert's eyes had widened and his face paled.\n\n\"Under the river!\" he gasped, staring upward in horror. \"Gee whiz!\"\n\n\"Don't worry. There have been tunnels under the river in London for ages, and nothing's ever gone wrong.\"\n\nUnconvinced, but his shoulders relaxing a little, Lambert pointed out, \"There's always a first time.\" His gaze stayed fixed on the roof of the carriage, as if he expected water to trickle through at any moment, until it became obvious the train was labouring uphill.\n\nDaylight seeped through the grimy windows, and then they were above ground, pulling into a station lit by pale, wintry sunshine.\n\nAlec went to the door. It opened and a nasal voice shouted, \"Brooklyn! Everybody out!\"\n\nStanding aside, Alec let the other passengers descend first, watching over their heads. Daisy and Lambert joined him.\n\n\"I have a good view of the exit,\" he explained, \"and Pitt has no choice but to get off here.\"\n\n\"I'm a bit vague about the geography,\" Daisy said, \"but isn't Brooklyn on an island? He'll have to go back to the city to get anywhere.\"\n\n\"There he goes,\" said Lambert, and crouched to untie and retie a shoelace.\n\n\"Keep back in the shadows, Daisy,\" Alec said sharply. \"With any luck, he'll think he's lost us.\"\n\n\"Everybody off!\" The official reached them. \"Everybody off, sir. You wanna go back to the city, you gotta get off and get on again. Or there's streetcars and cabs outside if you wanna go anyplace else.\"\n\n\"Cabs!\" Alec looked worried.\n\n\"Where can he go?\" Daisy said. \"He has to get back to the city.\"\n\n\"There are probably other ways. Other tunnels, bridges, ferries perhaps. Come on. Pitt's gone through the gate.\"\n\nPitt was lurking on the pavement between the row of taxicabs and a hoarding advertising five-cent cigars. He spotted them the instant they stepped through the gate. He jumped into the nearest taxi, which immediately pulled out of the row and turned towards the yard exit.\n\nDaisy, Alec, and Lambert piled into another cab. \"Police!\" snapped Alec. \"Follow that cab! Double your fare if you keep it in sight.\"\n\n\"Sure thing, boss!\" said the young driver eagerly, starting the meter running with one hand as he wheeled away from the kerb with the other. \"You want I should catch up to him? You gonna make a pinch?\"\n\n\"No, we just need to know where he's going.\"\n\n\"O.K. Say, you a limey?\"\n\n\"Yes, I'm a limey cop.\"\n\n\"I ain't got nuttin against limeys.\"\n\n\"I'm glad to hear it. But my colleague here is American, a federal agent.\"\n\nThe driver looked back with an ominous frown. \"Geez, you Treasury?\"\n\n\"U.S. Department of Justice, Investigation Bureau,\" intoned Lambert.\n\n\"Oh, that's O.K. Say, you Feds got lady cops now? Or is it the limeys got lady cops?\"\n\n\"I'm a limey,\" Daisy told him, \"but I'm a witness, not a cop.\"\n\n\"Tough! Hey, look, that crook's heading outta town, that you're tailing. He better be going someplace I can get a fare back.\"\n\n\"We're paying double,\" Alec reminded him, \"if you don't lose him.\"\n\nThe driver concentrated on driving.\n\nThe countryside was not very different from parts of England, with trees and fields, occasional villages, and parkland with glimpses of mansions. The smaller houses were mostly weatherboarded\u2014or clapboard, as Daisy had learned to call it in Connecticut\u2014instead of brick or half timbered. Churches were also clapboard, whitewashed, with funny little pointed steeples hung with bells. Many trees were already leafless, but here and there a maple still blazed with a scarlet rarely seen in English woods, brilliant in the autumnal sunshine.\n\nAll very pretty, but where on earth was Pitt going? \"I didn't realize Brooklyn was on such a big island,\" said Daisy. \"Or is it Bronx that's on an island?\"\n\n\"Nah, this here's Long Island. Hunnert and twenny miles end to end. Geez, I hope your crook ain't going all the way to the Hamptons!\"\n\n\"If the Hamptons are at the other end of the island, so do I! Alec, do you think Pitt has friends somewhere here, who he hopes will hide him? I can't imagine why else he's running all over the country.\"\n\n\"Maybe.\" Alec glanced at the ticking taximeter. \"We can't go on chasing him forever. When he stops, Lambert and I had better approach him and see if we can't persuade him to go back to New York with us, while you, Daisy, go on to find a telephone to report his whereabouts.\"\n\n\"But, darling...\"\n\n\"Hey, boss, he's turning off the highway. You figure he's trying to shake us?\"\n\n\"Let's hope he's nearing his destination.\"\n\nFor a few suspenseful minutes, they lost sight of the taxi ahead. Their driver swore, afraid of losing his double fare. Then there it was again, turning off the road towards a farmhouse and two huge barns, on the edge of a large, flat, empty field.\n\nOn top of one barn a wind stocking floated from a flagpole, and nearby stood several aeroplanes: three biplanes, a monoplane, and an unwieldy triplane.\n\n\"An aerodrome!\" Alec cried. \"Great Scott, don't tell me he's hoping to escape by air!\"\n\nIn front of the farmhouse, a single-engined biplane was preparing for flight. The four-bladed wooden propeller turned idly, and a helmeted man in the cockpit was leaning out to call something to a couple of men on the ground.\n\nEven before the first taxi had braked to a halt twenty yards from the aeroplane, Pitt jumped out. His suitcase in his left hand, he brandished a pistol in his right. Then he took careful aim, and a shot rang out.\n\nThe aviator ducked. The men on the ground threw themselves flat, while several others emerged from the house and hangars. Pitt ran towards the aeroplane.\n\n\"Holy cow!\" breathed the second cab driver, swerving as he jammed on his brakes.\n\nLambert sprang out, automatic in hand.\n\n\"Don't shoot, you fool!\" yelled Alec, diving after him as he squeezed the trigger.\n\nThe gun failed to fire. Alec hit Lambert behind the knees and he measured his length on the grass, losing both his weapon and his spectacles.\n\nDaisy perched on the running board for a better view. She saw Pitt reach the aeroplane, drop his suitcase, and clamber into the open cabin in the rear of the fuselage. He leant forward to hold his revolver to the pilot's head. The pilot cried out to the ground crew. One of them chucked the suitcase up after Pitt.\n\nThe engine roared, the propeller speeded to a blur. The men on the ground crept to the wheels, pulled away the chocks, and scampered clear. The aeroplane started to move, then gathered speed across the tarmac.\n\nAfter it lumbered the first taxi driver, bellowing, \"Hey, what about my fare? What about my fare?\"\n\nHis spectacles restored to him, Lambert was almost weeping with frustration. \"Gee whiz, why did you stop me? I could have arrested him. That was U.S. Government property he was shooting at.\"\n\n\"Government property?\" Daisy queried, shading her eyes to gaze after the ascending biplane.\n\n\"You can't go shooting towards a plane!\" Alec expostulated. \"Hit the fuel tank or lines and the whole thing goes up in flames. Anyway, your pistol misfired.\"\n\n\"I dropped it eighteen storeys,\" Daisy reminded him. \"Government property?\"\n\n\"Didn't you see the Post Office insignia on the side?\" Lambert shook his head angrily. \"They shouldn't have given in to him so easily.\"\n\n\"He had a gun,\" said Alec, \"one which didn't misfire. If he had started shooting again, your precious government property would more than likely have become an inferno, and the government employees incinerated with it.\"\n\n\"Air piracy, by George!\" said an exhilarated and very English voice behind them. \"Bally bad show! I say, what was all that about, if you don't mind my asking?\"\n\nThey turned to see a tall, thin man in flier's leathers, a helmet dangling from his hand and a pipe from his mouth. He had a splendid handlebar moustache, a Roman nose, and very blue eyes, which widened as he saw Alec's face.\n\nAlec's mouth dropped open. \"Great Scott, it's Dipper!\" he exclaimed, just as the other said, \"By George, if it isn't the Arrow! What ho, old chap!\" They wrung each other's hands and slapped each other on the back.\n\nLambert interrupted this touching reunion. \"Say, Mr. Dipper, do you have an airplane? I guess you're not an American citizen, but the U.S. Government would sure make it worth your while to chase that air pirate.\"\n\nThe blue eyes lit up. \"By George, there's an idea. Not that I need the bally rhino, but what a lark! As it happens, I've got a four-seater just about ready to take off. Let's go!\"\n\nThe next quarter of an hour was utter confusion. Alec made hasty introductions\u2014Dipper turned out to be Sir Roland Amboyne, a friend from RFC days. But Alec considered the whole notion of chasing the fugitive through the skies crazy.\n\nHe was overborne by Sir Roland's enthusiasm, aided by Lambert's insistence that the kidnapper of a federal employee must not be allowed to disappear into the blue vastness.\n\n\"While you follow him, I'll alert the federal authorities,\" he said importantly.\n\n\"Oh no,\" said Alec, \"you're coming along. You're the only one of us with the official standing to arrest the miscreant, if by some miracle we catch him. Daisy's perfectly capable of notifying whoever needs to be notified.\"\n\n\"Me!\" Indignation overruled both grammar and pleasure at this unwonted compliment. \"I'm going with you. Darling, you said you'd take me up in an aeroplane one day.\"\n\nAlec's dark eyebrows lowered forbiddingly. \"Not on a crazy wild-goose chase with gunfire possible.\"\n\nDaisy didn't bother to argue. She was not going to be left behind. She hurried after Sir Roland, who, as soon as Alec agreed to pursue Pitt, had loped towards the group by the farmhouse, calling out instructions and requests.\n\nAs she followed him into the building\u2014it had a sign over the door saying HAZELHURST FIELD\u2014someone thrust a leather flying suit into her arms and pointed her towards a door at the rear of the big front room. Finding herself in a sort of scullery turned into an office, she scrutinized the outfit. Though it was several sizes too large for her, she decided reluctantly that she couldn't stuff her skirt inside. Her petticoat would fit, and might help to keep her warm even if it made her bulge around the bottom, and her jacket and blouse could stay on under the top. She started to undo buttons, fingers fumbling in her haste. She was not going to be left behind.\n\nA plump girl bounced in, carrying a pair of trousers and a pair of smart leather boots. \"Hi, I'm Leora. I do the record keeping around here. Jake\u2014he's one of the mechanics and on the small side for a guy\u2014he says you can borrow his pants and he'll go home in his overalls. You'll need something under that suit. And I brought you my boots.\"\n\n\"Gosh, thanks, Miss... Leora.\"\n\n\"I guess they'll about fit you. Your feet'll freeze if you go up in those shoes, but I'd kinda like them back sometime if you can. Here, lemme give you a hand. You don't hafta wear that helmet in the cabin, but you may want it when it gets cold. And take your coat to tuck around your knees. It won't go on over these.\"\n\nAs Leora efficiently inserted her into the flying suit, Daisy heard Alec in the next room dictating telegrams. Still speaking as he tied his bootlaces after changing, he didn't see her when she and Leora entered. She was careful to keep out of his sight.\n\nLambert, shaking too much to dress himself, was being stuffed into his borrowed kit. He ventured a last feeble protest: \"But Rosenblatt said not to leave New York!\" No one took any notice.\n\nOne of Sir Roland's flying colleagues came in through another door, his arms full of paper bags, boxes, and other small containers. \"Anyone else have a lunch pail or Thermos flask to donate to the cause? O.K., I'll take these out to the plane.\"\n\nDaisy sneaked out with him. She helped him store the supplies in the cockpit and minuscule cabin of the biplane, and he helped her squeeze into one of the seats and fasten the safety belt. A short man in greasy dungarees gave her a grin and a thumbs-up. Lambert was marched out by two more men and inserted beside her, moaning quietly. One of them handed Daisy a couple of folded paper bags.\n\n\"In case of airsickness,\" he said.\n\n\"I don't get seasick,\" Daisy said hopefully.\n\nHooking a wordless thumb at Lambert, he lowered the wood-framed canvas roof over the passenger compartment.\n\nSir Roland was already in the open cockpit, going over a checklist with a second mechanic. Alec came out of the house and strode across the tarmac, looking frightfully romantic in the flying suit, a green silk scarf around his neck and goggles perched on top of his helmet. Glancing around, he saw Daisy's face as she peered at him through the celluloid side panel of the cabin.\n\nHe scowled, eyebrows meeting, then raised brows and eyes to heaven, shrugged, and scrambled up into the cockpit with Sir Roland.\n\nHe strapped his safety belt and helmet, lowered his goggles over his eyes, and pulled on his gauntlets. \"Right-oh, Dipper, take her up.\"\n\n\"Good-bye!\"\n\n\"Good luck!\"\n\n\"Go get 'em!\"\n\nThrough streaky glass, Daisy saw one propeller begin to turn, and then another. The muted hum of the engines rose to a rumble, and the aeroplane began to taxi.\n\nShe was actually going up in an aeroplane!\n\nBeside her, Lambert huddled with his eyes shut and his hands over his ears. For a moment, Daisy was tempted to follow his craven example. Curiosity saved her from the ignominy. What a subject for an article!\n\nThey bumped across the grass and turned into the wind. The rumble became a deafening roar as they picked up speed. Daisy saw Dipper press the stick forward, and the tail rose so that she was sitting upright instead of leaning back. With the skid off the ground, the joggling lessened. Faster and faster they raced across the airfield.\n\nThen Dipper eased the stick back. Daisy's stomach lurched as the hard vibration of wheels on earth suddenly ended. They were airborne.\n\nLambert clutched his mouth and middle and began to sweat.\n\nHanding him a paper bag, Daisy turned away, giving all her attention to the blurred view beyond the celluloid. Engine bellowing with effort, the biplane swung upward in a wide spiral. The ground tilted below.\n\nProud of her sang froid, Daisy gazed down. The white farmhouse, the group of people still standing on the tarmac watching, the motionless planes, the hangars, the field, trees and bushes, all grew smaller beneath her. Long Island spread out, its greenness seamed with roads and streams, patched with leafless woodland and villages.\n\nThe aeroplane levelled off. Relaxing, Daisy discovered how tense she had been.\n\nShe couldn't see much out of the window now. The engine noise had lessened slightly with the end of the climb, though it was still a terrific din. Now she could distinguish the sounds of the wind as it whistled through the forest of struts stiffening the wings and twanged the wires. It played the taut canvas of the wings like tympani, half a dozen different booming notes at once. The fabric sides of the cabin flapped in and out, slap, slap, slap, like a housemaid beating a carpet.\n\nDaisy realized, too, that the apparent smoothness of flight was merely in contrast to the jolting acceleration across the grass. A constant vibration set every loose oddment to rattling. She only hoped no vital gadget was going to fall off.\n\nShe and Lambert would have to shout if they wanted to converse. Fortunately, she had no great desire to communicate with him, even if he were in a condition to speak. She cast a quick sidelong glance his way. At least he didn't appear to have actually been sick, but the way he was curled around his inner workings reminded her of Alec on the Atlantic crossing.\n\nLooking forward through the glass pane separating the cabin from the cockpit, she saw Alec leaning sideways to peer around the edge of the windscreen, binoculars in hand. As she watched, he straightened, pushed up his goggles, undid his safety belt, and to her utter horror stood up.\n\nIf her determined pursuit of Wilbur Pitt led to her husband performing such risky stunts, Daisy wanted nothing more to do with it. She banged on the glass.\n\n\"Alec! Sit down!\"\n\nHe and Dipper either didn't hear or ignored her. Alec scanned the skies, shading his eyes with his hand, while the aeroplane droned steadily onward. Suddenly he stopped, stiff as a pointer scenting prey. He raised the glasses. For a long moment he stared, then sat down with a sharp nod. Pointing, he said\u2014or rather, shouted\u2014something to Dipper, which Daisy couldn't hear but assumed to be on the lines of \"That's him!\"\n\nDipper altered course slightly. The chase was on.\n\nNow Daisy had the leisure to contemplate what she had wrought. Her recognition of Pitt as the man on the stairs in the Flatiron Building had brought them to this fragile craft sailing through emptiness, high above Mother Earth. How certain was she of her identification? What if she was wrong?\n\nShe tried to picture the pale, frightened face of the man who had run from the scene of Carmody's death. It was vague in her memory, eclipsed by Pitt's face as she had last seen it at the Brooklyn station yard. Had she imagined the likeness? The face beneath the bowler hat had been nondescript, as she told Gilligan and Rosenblatt. So was Pitt's, but for his distant resemblance to his cousin.\n\nDaisy acknowledged reluctantly that she just might be mistaken.\n\nWhat was worse, even if she was right, she had no proof that Pitt had shot his cousin. Of course he had behaved suspiciously, galloping off down those stairs, playing least in sight, then doing his utmost to evade her and Alec and Lambert. But suppose he had fled in fear of his life, perhaps because of a family feud as posited by Mr. Thorwald?\n\nStill, though maybe he had not shot Carmody, he had most certainly pirated the air mail aeroplane. A dozen or more witnesses could swear to that. He was a criminal.\n\nA horrid thought struck Daisy: what if her relentless pursuit had driven a previously innocent Pitt to the desperate step of kidnapping a federal employee? If he had recognized her and Lambert from the Flatiron Building, he could reasonably believe that they had killed his cousin and were now after his blood.\n\nAt that moment, had she been able to communicate with Alec, she would have called off the chase and let the poor man try to escape the forces of the law without her interference.\n\nThe force of the American law she had brought with her, in the shape of Lambert, cowered at her side, in no state to arrest anyone. His eyes were still determinedly shut and his hands once again covered his ears, the threat of sickness apparently past. The thrill of flight was not for him.\n\nIn fact, the thrill of flight was definitely wearing off for Daisy. The take-off had been exciting, but for what seemed like hours she had been stuck in this cramped, vibrating, fearfully noisy box. She couldn't even see much because the celluloid blurred the distant view. In spite of numerous draughts (less than a handsbreadth is a draught, more than a handsbreath is fresh air, her nanny had always said when flinging up the sash in midwinter), the air was growing stuffy.\n\nThe man who had helped her into the cabin had shown her how to open the side window. Daisy followed his instructions.\n\nThe air blasting in was more gale than draught, cold but exhilarating. It roused Lambert from his unhappy apathy, but after one glance at the open window he shuddered and returned to contemplation of his misery. It made Daisy's eyes water. She pulled on and buckled the helmet she'd been lent, and fastened the goggles over her eyes. Now she could see out.\n\nThey were floating over rugged, wooded hills, not far above the treetops. Daisy saw a hawk hovering below, intent on its next meal, oblivious of the aeroplane passing overhead. She saw the aeroplane's shadow moving across the landscape\u2014a hillside of tree stumps and a logging camp where tiny figures looked up and waved; a valley of scattered farms with small, irregular fields, in one of them a man and a horse ploughing; a village with a motorcar and three horse buggies in its single unpaved street; a curve of railway line with a train of coal wagons puffing along.\n\nGervaise would have liked to see that, Daisy thought. Her brother's clockwork train had been a favourite toy, back in nursery days.\n\nThis was fun! No wonder Alec had given in so easily to Dipper's persuasion, in spite of not being at all keen on following Pitt. She had never thought before that he might actually miss flying. She had always pictured him dodging German shells and fleeing German fighters in his single-seater observer aeroplane.\n\nTurning to Lambert, she shouted, \"This is fun! Do open your window and have a look. There's a spiffing view.\"\n\nHe opened his eyes just long enough to give her a look of terrified entreaty before huddling still lower in his seat.\n\nDaisy returned to the view, but soon her cheeks and nose began to grow numb with cold. Wishing she had borrowed a muffler, she closed and fastened the window. In front of her, Dipper and Alec were shouting to each other, inaudible as far as she was concerned. For want of anything better to do, she speculated on the reason for Sir Roland Amboyne's nickname. Alec's obviously had something to do with his surname: Fletcher, a maker of arrows; but Dipper was obscure.\n\nThe flight became a test of endurance. As the chill penetrated Daisy's flying suit, her bottom grew numb and her limbs cramped from immobility. A meal provided a brief respite from boredom when she saw Alec and Dipper eating sandwiches and sharing a flask and remembered the stores in the cabin. Lambert refused to eat but drank some coffee\u2014fortified with spirits, as Daisy discovered when she took a swig from the same Thermos.\n\nHow long could this go on? Surely soon they must run low on petrol and descend to refuel. Or had Dipper been prepared for a transatlantic flight when they diverted him?\n\nDaisy knew from the sun that they were heading westward. Pitt came from somewhere in the West, somewhere with mountains and forests, in which he could disappear. If he was used to mountains, she thought with a momentary excitement, that might explain how he managed to run down flight after flight of stairs. Another scrap of evidence.\n\nShe couldn't remember the name of the place he came from. Miss Cabot's many guesses swirled in her head. It began with an O\u2014or ended with an O. San Francisco? Leora, back at Hazelhurst Field, had told Daisy the post office plane was bound for San Francisco, officially.\n\nNo longer, Daisy was sure. Gilligan had referred to Pitt's home as a little \"hick\" town, which San Francisco definitely was not, from all she had heard. Gilligan had mentioned the name of the town. What on earth was it? Beginning with an O or ending with an O?\n\nDaisy tried to re-create the scene when Pitt's provenance had been discussed. The town's name was on the tip of her tongue when she realized they were heading downward.\n\nShe gasped as the aeroplane suddenly plunged, pressing her back in the seat and leaving her stomach behind. She had just time to realize that the still roaring engines had not failed\u2014so Dipper was presumably doing this on purpose\u2014when they pulled out of the dive.\n\nAs the aeroplane levelled off, she peered out of her window. Just a few feet below her was the post office aeroplane, on the ground beside a shed with a wind sleeve on a flagpole. Flashing by, she thought she saw two men by the shed, and a horse and cart, and Pitt standing in the aeroplane's rear compartment, his gun trained on the pilot, who was climbing into the cockpit.\n\nDipper pulled back the stick and they ascended again, circling in that dizzying, wing-tilted way. Then the engines muted to a rumble and they glided down towards the field.\n\n\"I think we're landing,\" Daisy said to Lambert. \"At last!\"\n\nHe opened his eyes and glanced out of his window. \"That's when most crashes happen,\" he croaked, gripping the edge of his seat.\n\n\"Pitt's down there. I can't see quite what Alec and Sir Roland hope to do. It's the same situation as back at Hazelhurst Field.\"\n\n\"Except that we're in the air this time and we're all going to die.\"\n\n\"No, we're not,\" Daisy said crossly. \"Sir Roland came through the War without crashing and... Oh!\"\n\nThe engines bellowed as the aeroplane's nose pulled up sharply. Looking out, Daisy saw Pitt's aeroplane taxiing across the field right where they had been about to land.\n\nWhatever his reasons, he was obviously absolutely desperate to escape.\n\nDipper circled the field again, giving Daisy an excellent view of the post office aeroplane taking off. She expected that they would follow, but instead they came in to a gentle landing, bumped across the grass, and came to a halt near the shed.\n\nAlec folded back the cabin's roof. \"We have to refuel,\" he said. \"That crazy stunt was Dipper's attempt to frighten Pitt into staying on the ground. There are clouds ahead he's going to disappear into. I'm afraid we'll probably lose him.\"\n\n\"No, we shan't,\" said Daisy, standing stiffly and taking Alec's hand to help her down. She saw Dipper striding over to the shed, from which two farmers were cautiously emerging. \"I'm pretty sure I know where he's going. The name of the place is on the tip of my tongue.\"\n\n\"I'm not going any farther.\" Lambert's adamant tone left no room for argument. He jumped down beside Daisy, colour beginning to return to his cheeks, and felt in his pocket. \"Here, you can have my identification papers if they're any good to you. I quit. I'm going to find me a train station and catch a train home and go into Dad's insurance business.\"\n\nAlec regarded him with sardonically raised eyebrows. \"I shan't stop you. But before you quit, you can send a couple of telegrams for me at the Bureau's expense.\" He took out the notebook he was never without.\n\n\"At the Bureau's expense?\" said Daisy. \"Darling, send one to Miss Genevieve, will you? Ask her to pass on the news to Kevin. And one to Mr. Thorwald and Pascoli, at the Flatiron Building. They'll all want to know what's going on.\"\n\nLeaving them, Daisy went to join Dipper.\n\n\"What ho,\" he greeted her. \"This is one of the air mail service's emergency landing fields. Arrow was right as usual: we're in Ohio.\"\n\n\"Oregon!\" Daisy exclaimed, her memory jogged by the plethora of O's. \"That's where Pitt's going. It's in the West somewhere.\"\n\nDipper laughed. \"That's the direction he's heading. I was wondering how we're going to find him again, but if you know his destination, we can't miss him. These admirable gentlemen have petrol for us,\" he added as the two men, farmers by the look of them, each carried two large petrol cans from the shed. \"Jolly good show, fellows.\"\n\nThey took the fuel to the biplane. Dipper and the older farmer started pouring petrol into the tank.\n\nThe younger man, returning for more cans, said shyly to Daisy, \"You're British, ain't you, ma'am? I was over there.\"\n\n\"In the War?\"\n\n\"Yes, ma'am. You know that song, 'How you gonna keep them down on the farm, now that they've seen Paree'? That's me. Only it was Lunnon for me. I mean, Paree's gay, like they say, but heck, they don't even try to speak English. At least you guys try.\"\n\n\"We do our best,\" Daisy said solemnly.\n\nAlec came over. He nodded to the ex-doughboy and said, \"Have you got a telephone?\"\n\n\"No, sir. Ain't none for twenty miles.\"\n\nAlec glanced at the horse and cart. \"Too bad. Daisy, Lambert's agreed to escort you back to New York, or Washington if you prefer. I'll join you there as soon as this business is wrapped up.\"\n\n\"Then you're going on? I was sure you'd be ready to give up.\"\n\nHe came as close as she had ever seen to a blush. \"I suppose Lambert's put me on my mettle,\" he conceded ruefully. \"And Dipper's still keen as mustard. We'll be off as soon as the tanks are full.\"\n\n\"So will I,\" said Daisy. \"Darling, you really can't abandon me with Lambert for an escort, dressed like this, here in the middle of nowhere!\"\n\n\"The middle of nowhere, ain't that the truth!\" The young man sighed. \"I guess I better go help Pa and your pilot. You gotta get going if you're gonna catch that screwball that was waving his gun around all this gasoline.\"\n\nAlec was going to argue with Daisy, but Dipper called him for a consultation. While they had their heads together over a map, Daisy managed to climb into her seat and strap herself in. Loath though she was to return to the torture chamber a moment sooner than necessary, she wasn't about to give them a chance to leave without her.\n\nLambert, standing disconsolate by the shed, waved to her but made no move to come anywhere near the aeroplane. Daisy waved back, wondering whether she would ever see him again. She would have liked to say good-bye properly, to thank him for his efforts to protect her from the foe, however chimerical. He obviously was not going to budge, though, and nor was she. She hoped he'd get home safely.\n\nAt last, Alec climbed into the cockpit and stood looking down at her, shaking his head. \"Daisy, there's nasty weather ahead, we can't tell how nasty. It could be dangerous.\"\n\n\"I'll call it quits if you call it quits.\"\n\nHe threw an exasperated glance at Lambert, and another at Dipper, but his exasperation was mostly for himself. \"I can't, love.\"\n\n\"Then I shan't. You really can't expect me to face your mother with the news that I deserted you in the middle of America and you've disappeared.\"\n\n\"It does sound rather difficult.\"\n\n\"Much more difficult than disappearing with you, darling.\"\n\n\"I don't anticipate disappearing.\"\n\n\"Well, then,\" said Daisy, \"that's that, isn't it? Besides, without me you don't know where to go.\"\n\n\"Dipper said you told him Oregon.\"\n\n\"Yes, but that's a state. I know I've heard the name of his home town, if I could only think of it.\" She frowned. \"There's some connection in my mind with Miss Genevieve. I can't quite pin it down. Unless it's just that she was there when I heard it.\"\n\n\"Great Scott, Daisy, if we don't know his destination, this whole mad jaunt is pointless! I'm not flying clear across the country only to humour you and Dipper.\"\n\n\"I'll remember,\" Daisy said determinedly. \"Anyway, with any luck you'll see him when we take off, so that we can follow again.\"\n\nThis time, as Alec was flying the aeroplane, it was Dipper who stood up in the cockpit to peer around the windshield. To Daisy's relief, he spotted their quarry.\n\nIt wasn't very long, though, before he stood up again. This time he balanced there, scanning the sky ahead, for what seemed an age. When he sat down, he was shaking his head. Alec shrugged. They shouted back and forth a bit, then Daisy felt the aeroplane gradually ascending.\n\nShe soon saw why. They were sailing above a blanket of cotton wool clouds. Wisps floated about them, insubstantial as dreams, but the mass below was quite solid enough to hide Pitt's biplane, whether he was forcing his unwilling pilot to fly through it or under it. Daisy imagined the poor man's quandary as he weighed the probability of Pitt shooting him if he disobeyed, against the dangers of flying blind through what she guessed must be a pea-soup fog.\n\nIf the pilot died, Pitt would also die, of course. Did he not fear death? If not, what was he fleeing? Not someone who had killed his cousin and might kill him. Which suggested that he had in fact been responsible for Carmody's death, intentionally or not.\n\nWas he afraid of imprisonment? Daisy wondered if that fate might seem worse than death to someone used to roaming the forests and mountains. Or perhaps he was not so much running away as running to\u2014to those forests and mountains which he had, according to Miss Genevieve, described in Proustian detail in his book.\n\nWith a sigh, she decided she'd never understand the motivation of someone whose background was so utterly dif ferent from her own, especially as she had never even talked to him.\n\nShe ought, however, to be able to remember the name of the Oregon town he and Carmody came from. What was the connection with Miss Genevieve? She worried away at the riddle but was eventually driven to the conclusion that the direct approach would never work. Perhaps, as with an acrostic, the answer would suddenly come to her when she was thinking of something else.\n\nOutside the window, occasional rifts in the clouds showed a rain-drenched countryside below, but no sign of the post office aeroplane. With nothing to hold her attention, and slightly more room to stretch her legs since Lambert's departure, in spite of noise, cold, and vibration, Daisy drowsed off.\n\nWhat roused her was a change in the note of the engines. The cloud tops were tinged with pink and the sun was a bloodred globe dead ahead. Then the aeroplane plunged into the clouds.\n\nIt wasn't like a pea-souper after all, more of a ragged mist streaming past the windows. Daisy held her breath, half expecting to run into a hillside, or a tall building, or even the tail of Pitt's aeroplane. She did not have to hold it long. The cloud layer was not thick, and when they emerged beneath, it was not raining.\n\nRosy sunlight slanting through a gap to the west revealed to Daisy's astonished gaze flat farmland divided neatly into squares like a chessboard, as far as the eye could see. Alice Through the Looking Glass? Curiouser and curiouser, thought Daisy.\n\nThey flew on below the clouds, which grew sparser and fell behind. Then Daisy saw Dipper point ahead and consult a map. He and Alec exchanged a few of those infuriating shouts which she couldn't hear. The aeroplane tilted as they turned northward. Now the pattern of squares was broken up by a great river, whose course they followed, cutting across its meanders.\n\nThe sun had set by now and the light was fading fast. Daisy wasn't at all sure she wanted to experience a night landing, especially at a field unfamiliar to both pilots. If they actually found an airfield. What on earth had possessed her to insist on chasing Pitt?\n\nBecause she had been convinced that he had killed his cousin, and that Rosenblatt and Gilligan were incapable of catching him, she reminded herself. And once begun, the excitement of the chase was added to reluctance to admit she might be wrong and refusal to give up as long as anyone else continued.\n\nIt was not quite dark when the engines throttled back and the aeroplane began to descend. The lights of a town appeared below. Wherever it was that they were going, they had apparently arrived. They circled above the town, while Dipper consulted his map with the aid of an electric torch. He pointed at the ground, and he and Alec exchanged shouts. Down they went again.\n\nThe landing was decidedly bumpy, not to say bouncy. Daisy was just grateful to be down in one piece, especially when she realized Alec had landed by the light of a row of paraffin lanterns hung on a fence.\n\nThe field was very like their last stop, but with no friendly farmers at hand. Whoever lit the lamps had already left.\n\n\"Sioux City, we think,\" said Dipper ruefully, helping Daisy to the ground. \"We were aiming for Omaha. Should have turned south when we struck the Missouri River, dash it, as Arrow said. Still, no bones broken, what?\"\n\n\"Sioux City!\" Daisy exclaimed. \"As in 'Little Indian, Sioux or Crow'? We're in the Wild West, then. It can't be much farther to Oregon.\"\n\n\"Awf'ly sorry to disappoint you, Mrs. Fletcher, but we're not even halfway across the country, as near as I can reckon it. The maps I've got only go as far as a hundred and five degrees west.\"\n\n\"This is crazy,\" said Alec, stretching wearily. \"I don't suppose you've remembered yet, Daisy, where in Oregon Pitt comes from?\"\n\n\"No, I'm afraid not, darling. Actually, I fell asleep while trying to think of the name of the town. But I will remember, I promise.\"\n\nHe groaned. \"I suppose it's no good walking into the town. The telegraph office will be closed, and anyway Washington will be shut down for the weekend. If only I knew what was going on, whether there's a general alert out, whether the federal authorities have found out where Pitt's from and where he's going.\"\n\n\"I can't see Lambert getting close enough to tell them. So it would take cooperation from Rosencrantz and Guildenstern,\" Daisy pointed out. \"Most unlikely.\"\n\n\"Rosencrantz and Guildenstern?\" queried Dipper, intrigued.\n\n\"It's a long story,\" said Daisy.\n\n\"We've got time. We can't take off again until the early hours of the morning unless we want to land at an unknown field in the dark.\"\n\n\"Always assuming there's fuel in that shed,\" Alec said gloomily.\n\n\"If there isn't, darling, we're stymied, which ought to please you. Let's go and see.\"\n\nThere was fuel. In the last of the twilight, Alec and Dipper refueled the aeroplane. Daisy scavenged the last of the food supplies from inside and, by the light of the torch, arranged a meagre picnic within the petrol-smelling shelter of the shed. The men brought in a couple of the paraffin lanterns, which made things more cheerful and perhaps slightly warmer, though adding to the overall effluvium.\n\nThey sat down cross-legged\u2014much easier in aviator's gear than a skirt, Daisy noted\u2014to curling sandwiches and lukewarm coffee.\n\n\"First,\" said Daisy, \"before I explain everything, would you mind telling me, Sir Roland, why you're called Dipper? And also why you call Alec 'Arrow,' unless it's just because he's Fletcher?\"\n\n\"That's part of it, of course. But it's largely because he was the best navigator of all the observer pilots in the RFC.\"\n\n\"Spare my blushes!\" said Alec.\n\n\"By George, it's true, though,\" Sir Roland insisted. \"Always flew straight as an arrow to his target. Some of the chaps used to ramble over half of France and come back never having set eyes on whatever they'd been sent to take a dekko at. Arrow always got the goods. Comes of being a copper, I dare say. Always get your man, do you, old man?\"\n\n\"Not quite always.\"\n\n\"Jolly nearly,\" said Daisy. \"What about 'Dipper'?\"\n\nSir Roland laughed heartily. \"That's another story! Thing is, I was shot down two or three times, and ran out of fuel now and then, and then there were mechanical problems\u2014nothing out of the ordinary, by George, nothing that didn't happen to most of the chaps, sooner or later. But somehow I always came down in the water, the Channel, a river, a reservoir...\"\n\n\"A duck pond,\" Alec put in.\n\n\"Dash it, that one I prefer to forget, old man! Ever taken a dip in a duck pond, Mrs. Fletcher? I can't advise it.\"\n\n\"At least you didn't drown,\" said Daisy, appalled by his list of mishaps.\n\n\"True enough. I was lucky.\"\n\n\"We both were,\" said Alec.\n\n\"True,\" Dipper said soberly. \"We came through. Most of the chaps didn't. I say, is that the last of the sandwiches?\"\n\n\"I'm afraid so. There's just an apple left. Darling, let me have your penknife and I'll slice it. What brought you to America, Sir Roland?\"\n\n\"Oh, a couple of chaps and I decided to pop over just for fun. Gives a chap something to do, don't you know?\"\n\n\"You flew across the Atlantic?\"\n\n\"Nothing to it these days,\" said Dipper mournfully. \"People doing it all the time since Alcock and Brown showed the way in '19. We fitted an extra petrol tank in the rear, where you've been sitting. Took it out when we got here, to lighten the load\u2014that's why our range is only six hundred miles or so\u2014but it's easily reinstalled when we need it. Let's have your tale now. Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, eh, what?\"\n\nAs the lamps burned lower, Daisy told Sir Roland the story, from the quarrel she had overheard in the next room the day before the murder to recognizing Wilbur Pitt in the lobby.\n\n\"That was just this morning!\" she said in astonishment. \"It feels like a month ago.\"\n\n\"So the chap we're chasing bumped off his cousin as well as pirating a plane?\" said Sir Roland. \"Ripping!\"\n\n\"Ye-es.\"\n\nAlec pounced on Daisy's hesitation. \"You're not sure, are you?\" he demanded.\n\n\"I'm sure I saw him in the Flatiron Building,\" Daisy temporized, persuading herself as much as Alec. She really was pretty certain. She remembered telling Rosenblatt and Gilligan the man had seemed familiar, which could only be because of his resemblance to Carmody. \"It's just that I can't help wondering whether he ran because he was afraid he might be shot, too. By someone else, of course.\"\n\n\"Poppycock,\" Sir Roland snorted. \"If your chappie was so easily scared, he wouldn't have been running around waving a gun at the aerodrome.\"\n\n\"I think he's right, love,\" Alec agreed, to Daisy's enormous relief. \"I rather doubt that shrinking violets are bred in those farms and mines and logging camps, however civilized the Wild West may have become in these degenerate days.\"\n\n\"In any case,\" said Sir Roland, \"we can't let air piracy flourish unpunished. We've got to go on, by George, on the off chance that we might catch him when everyone else fails. Time for beddy-byes, now. We'll take off about two ack emma. Don't want to waste any time.\"\n\nWith that, he stretched out along a wall and apparently fell asleep straight away. Daisy, with Alec to warm her and pillow her head on his shoulder, managed to doze fitfully. She was not so comfortable, however, as to mind much being woken in the middle of the night.\n\nThey took off under a waning moon and a million brilliant stars. Daisy slept on and off as they droned westward. Again the changing note of the engine roused her.\n\nIn the light of dawn, the aeroplane was circling above a large city. And as it turned, Daisy saw that the way to the west was barred by a wall of mountains, their towering, snowy peaks tinted pink by the approaching sunrise.\n\nTwo wind sleeves in the northeast corner of the city announced the presence of rival aerodromes. Dipper chose the one which displayed the most activity. As they landed, three small biplanes were being prepared for take-off.\n\nPilots and mechanics stopped to watch as they taxied across the grass towards the tarmac. Dipper stopped near a petrol pump, not far from the group, who all strolled over to the new arrival. Daisy was interested to note that one of the people in flying dress was a woman, a black woman.\n\nSomeone folded back the hood over Daisy's cabin. She stood up stiffly, and hands reached out to help her down.\n\n\"Denver!\" Alec was saying. \"I've lost my touch, Dipper. Too far north last night and too far south this morning. We were aiming for Cheyenne.\"\n\n\"Lowry Aviation Field, Denver, Colorado,\" said a short wiry man in airman's leathers. \"You're heading west? The Cheyenne route's generally easier flying.\"\n\n\"That's the way the air mail planes go, isn't it?\" said Dipper.\n\n\"It's not quite as high, and more of a plateau, without the big peaks. But the radio weather man said it's gonna be snowing that far north today. You better go the southern route.\"\n\n\"We haven't got a map from here on.\"\n\n\"Ah guess we can find you a spare, cain't we, Hiram?\" the woman put in. \"Where're y'all going to?\"\n\nAlec and Dipper looked at Daisy.\n\nShe stared at the short, wiry pilot. \"Hiram,\" she said. \"That's it. Not quite, but that's nearly it. Now hush a moment while I think. It's one of those names which sound as if they ought to be English, but one just doesn't come across them at home. Hiram, Caleb, Elmer, Chester, Floyd\u2014and Miss Genevieve? Of course, her pen name was Eugene Cannon! Eugene City, Oregon, that's where we're going.\"\n\n\"At last!\" said Alec.\n\n\"Well done, Mrs. Fletcher,\" said Dipper.\n\n\"Ah know Eugene,\" the black woman said. \"Ah did a show there last summer. Nice little airfield they have.\"\n\n\"That's good to know, madam,\" said Dipper, \"always supposing we can find it.\"\n\n\"Jack, go see what maps we can spare,\" Hiram ordered one of the others.\n\n\"Madam!\" The black woman laughed. \"Ah don't get called that too often. Bessie's my name, Bessie Coleman.\"\n\n\"How do you do, Miss Coleman.\" Dipper introduced himself and Alec and Daisy, and Miss Coleman introduced her colleagues. They were barnstormers, they explained, who had just put on a show in Denver and were moving on to fresh pastures.\n\nDaisy and Dipper left it to Alec to explain their arrival in Denver at dawn on a Sunday.\n\nDaisy did not hear how much he revealed, as Miss Coleman said to her, \"Ah expect you'd like to wash up, Miz Fletcher. They don't have a little girls' room here, but Ah'll stand outside the men's room while you go in.\"\n\n\"Gosh, thanks! I've been making do with bushes. Real plumbing will be sheer heaven.\"\n\n\"It's not elegant,\" Miss Coleman warned, leading the way towards the buildings. \"Y'all are English, aren't you? Ah learnt to fly in France. Ah was always crazy for it, and Ah couldn't find anyone over here who'd teach me. Then Ah came back to show people what a coloured woman can do if she puts her mind to it.\"\n\n\"Good for you! I'm not exactly sure, what are barnstormers?\"\n\n\"Fools who risk their lives to give the rubes a thrill because that's the only way they can make a living flying airplanes, and that's the only thing they want to do. Gypsies, they call us. We put on an air circus to attract the crowds. Ideally they pay to see us loop the loop and walk the wings and so on. Hiram has a great new stunt where we fly in formation and he climbs down by rope ladder from the top plane to the one in the middle, and then to the bottom one. But of course anyone who wants can see it from outside.\"\n\n\"I suppose so,\" said Daisy.\n\n\"The real money comes from taking people up for joy rides. We make enough to buy gasoline and food and keep the Jennies more or less in flying condition, and maybe a bit over.\" She shrugged. \"We get by, and we're doing what we want. Ah guess that's about as much as anyone can ask for.\"\n\n\"That's how I feel about writing,\" Daisy told her, \"or I did, till I got married. I'm going to write an article about flying.\"\n\n\"Flying's been in the Denver papers the last couple of days. Some guy was arrested in Ohio for flying over a city and dropping leaflets. They're more forward looking here in Denver\u2014the citizens are going to raise money for a municipal flying field, and they're going to put up an airplane lighthouse on Pikes Peak. There was a column about a new record air speed, too. Two hundred fifty-nine miles per hour, think of that!\"\n\n\"It's not so long since they said the human body couldn't survive travelling at thirty miles an hour!\" Daisy exclaimed as they reached the men's room.\n\nIt was not the most salubrious place Daisy had ever found herself in, but it was definitely an improvement over bushes. She emerged feeling a bit less grubby, at least about the face and hands.\n\n\"Ah missed what your husband was saying about why y'all are here,\" Miss Coleman said as they walked back towards the aeroplane.\n\n\"We're chasing an air pirate.\"\n\n\"Is that right? That makes those train bandits they're hunting over in the Siskiyous look real old-fashioned! And you think he's heading for Eugene?\"\n\n\"That's where he's from. It's only a guess that he'd make for home, though,\" Daisy admitted. \"He knows the mountains and forests, so he'd find it easy to disappear if we don't get there in time to stop him. At least, the police may be on the lookout, but we've no way of knowing, and they're not likely to pay any heed to a telegram from people they know nothing about.\"\n\n\"So you're in a hurry,\" said Miss Coleman thoughtfully.\n\n\"Rather. Oh dear, Alec's not looking very happy.\"\n\nAlec was frowning over a couple of maps spread out on the lower wing, with Hiram beside him explaining something, while Dipper was supervising refuelling.\n\n\"What's up, darling?\" Daisy asked.\n\n\"Mountains,\" Alec said briefly. \"Dipper, have you any experience flying through high mountains?\"\n\n\"Not me.\" Dipper came over. \"Nothing higher than the Alleghenies we crossed in Pennsylvania. Trouble?\"\n\n\"Flying due west, we'd have to cross at least one pass at nearly twelve thousand feet, but going round by the south makes it considerably farther. I suppose we'll have to go the long way.\"\n\n\"Waste of time, dash it. Let's go...\" Dipper smothered a huge yawn. \"Let's go for it. Where's that coffee?\"\n\nA fit of yawning overcame Alec.\n\n\"Coffee's not gonna make you guys fit to fly through mountains you don't know,\" said Hiram bluntly. \"Better grab a bit of shut-eye first, whichever way you're going.\"\n\n\"They're in a hurry,\" Miss Coleman pointed out. \"We let this air pirate get away with it, there'll be others deciding it's a good way to make a get-away, and it's us they'll be coming after. Why don't Ah take them over? Leastways\u2014\" She asked Dipper some technical questions about his altitude meter, ceiling, range, and maximum speed. \"Sounds just fine. Miz Fletcher, ma'am, can you read a map?\"\n\n\"On the ground,\" Daisy said dubiously, amused by Alec and Dipper's flabbergasted expressions, but not at all sure that they were wrong to be incredulous.\n\n\"That's O.K., honey. It'll be mostly watching out for roads and railroads and rivers. Ah've flown it before and the weather forecast's fine this far south. Hiram, Ah'll join up with y'all in New Mexico soon as I can get there, O.K.?\"\n\n\"I guess,\" said Hiram laconically.\n\n\"At least take her up for a practice run!\" Dipper blurted out. \"Get the feel of her.\"\n\nMiss Coleman beamed at him. \"Good idea. Stand clear, boys!\"\n\nAs she swung up into the cockpit, the mechanics pulled out the petrol pump nozzle, capped the fuel tank, and backed away. The engines, still warm, burst into life. With a cheerful wave, she taxied across the tarmac, turned into the wind, and started her take-off run across the grass.\n\n\"Oh Lord!\" groaned Dipper.\n\n\"She's a mighty good pilot,\" Hiram told him. \"Watch.\"\n\nThe boy who had been sent to buy them breakfast turned up at that moment. Distracted, Daisy missed the take-off. She only looked up from a rather disgusting friedegg sandwich\u2014which she was happily devouring, being ravenous\u2014when she heard a horrified unanimous gasp from Alec and Dipper.\n\nFor a moment she couldn't see anything wrong. Then she realized that the aeroplane was upside down.\n\nWith difficulty, Daisy suppressed a gasp of her own. She ought to have more faith in Bessie Coleman. The others must know she was a stunt pilot. They wouldn't be worried if she were a man. Hiram and the others didn't look at all worried.\n\nThe aeroplane's nose turned downward, diving towards the hangar. Daisy's fingernails bit into her palms. But Miss Coleman pulled up and flew right side up a few feet above the hangar, waving to the spectators. She zoomed up, did a few barrel rolls, and came gently down for a perfect landing.\n\nTen minutes later, the refuelling completed, Daisy found herself in the cockpit buckling her safety belt, with Alec and Dipper unwillingly stowed in the cabin behind.\n\nMiss Coleman spread a map on Daisy's knee. \"See here, Miz Fletcher, ma'am, this here's the road we want to follow, via Glenwood Springs and Grand Junction. It's going to be hard to see sometimes, in the high passes where there's snow, and down in the canyons among the trees. Some places it'll be easier to spot the railroad lines or a river or creek, so you take note where they run together or at least the same direction.\"\n\n\"Right-oh,\" said Daisy, determined not to get them lost so they'd have to crash land in snowy mountains. \"I'll keep my eyes peeled.\"\n\n\"And hang on to that map. It gets mighty windy. Most all of the time Ah'll be looking, too, but there's places Ah'll have to concentrate on flying. We'll be going up to about twelve thousand feet. That's our ceiling, as high as the plane can fly. The air's getting thin up there. You feel dizzy, you put your head down between your knees and don't worry about where we're going, you hear?\"\n\nDaisy had an uneasy feeling that Alec had said one of the passes was twelve thousand feet, but she nodded. \"Right-oh, Miss Coleman.\"\n\n\"Bessie.\"\n\n\"Daisy, then.\"\n\nThey smiled at each other. Bessie taxied towards the take-off position, while Daisy concentrated her entire attention on the map in her lap.\n\nDaisy didn't raise her head until the aeroplane levelled out after taking off. She was stunned by the view from the cockpit, so much clearer than from the cabin. The city of Denver spread out below, scarcely beginning to rouse so early on a Sunday morning. She had expected the mountains ahead to look smaller once she shared the sky with them. They didn't. They looked bigger. And they grew as the city slipped away behind.\n\nThe road west from Denver was easy to see, heading for the foothills as straight as a Roman road. Though unpaved, it appeared to be made of well-packed gravel, and if snow had fallen here, it had melted. When the road reached the hills, it narrowed and began to wind between slopes of evergreens, but it was still clearly visible from above. They followed it, cutting across the curves.\n\nThe hills grew more rugged, too steep in places to support trees. Daisy assumed they were also higher, and that the aeroplane was constantly ascending. She thought it was getting colder, though that might have been her imagination. The road was harder to see, and sometimes they had to fly high above it as it wound through a narrow valley. Bessie followed its course closely, afraid to lose it if she cut across. They were flying between the hills now, not above.\n\nDaisy found it curiously disorienting to see trees and rocks when she looked straight out sideways. There were patches of snow, too, on the north-facing slopes.\n\nThe valley branched ahead.\n\n\"Which way's the road?\" Bessie shouted, fighting gusts of wind which shook the plane.\n\nA shoulder cut the view ahead. Daisy reached for Dipper's binoculars and stuck her head over the side, hoping she wouldn't have to stand up. The goggles protected her eyes, but the icy blast stung her cheeks above the scarf Alec had passed on to her. Catching a glimpse of the road climbing along a hillside, she pulled her head in and pointed.\n\nBessie nodded.\n\nThey were forced ever higher by the narrowing valley. Snowy peaks rose about them and ahead, and then the road reached the snow level. Someone had driven it since the snow fell, though. Daisy saw the double track black against the white as they curled around the mountainside.\n\nDown went the road into a valley wide enough for what looked like a farm and a few fields. But ahead rose a great ridge and more, higher peaks. The road climbed again, and they climbed with it, until it disappeared into the shadow of a sheer cliff.\n\nThis time there didn't seem to be much choice about where to go. A few minutes later the road reappeared, still with those tyre tracks without which it would have been invisible. To follow it between the rocky buttresses and near vertical slopes, Bessie flew at an angle, one wing up and one wing down. Only a stunt pilot could have done it, Daisy was sure.\n\nAt intervals the road vanished, but somehow they always found it after a minute or two. Daisy's heart was beating nineteen to the dozen, and breathing was difficult. She didn't know if it was the altitude or sheer terror.\n\nShe must have been stark raving mad to think catching Wilbur Pitt was worth the risk of crashing in this frozen white wilderness.\n\nThe snowy peaks seemed to go on forever, yet when Bessie shouted to Daisy that they had passed the worst, the sun had not yet cleared the mountains behind them. As long as the weather remained fine, she said, as predicted by the radio forecast, and no mechanical failure forced a landing in the desert...\n\n\"Desert!\" Daisy shouted back. \"I didn't know there was desert ahead.\"\n\nBessie nodded. \"Most of the way to Salt Lake. Desert and sagebrush.\"\n\nPicturing hundreds of miles of rolling sand dunes, Daisy was stunned by the stark beauty of cliffs and canyons and mesas. The colours ranged from almost white through greys, near black, buff and brown, pale pink to brick red. The rock formations were extraordinary. One rust-red massif stretched for miles like a fortified castle, with curtain walls, battlements, bastions, turrets, and buttresses.\n\nThere were long miles of dull, flat or rolling sagebrush where the road and railway ran straight as an arrow. Then both would disappear into a wooded gorge carved into the plateau by the Colorado River. There the aeroplane followed the winding gash in the land, with glimpses of the river at the bottom.\n\nWhenever Daisy was not too busy looking out for road, rail, or river, and working out which was best to follow, she and Bessie talked, shouting in abbreviated sentences. She heard about Bessie's childhood in Texas, her half-Negro, half-Indian father who had left his wife and thirteen children when Bessie was seven.\n\nIn spite of helping pick cotton and do the laundry her mother took in, Bessie had finished high school and even gone on to a term of college, though she could not afford more. Determined to better herself, she had then headed north to Chicago. Working as a waitress and manicurist, she had saved every penny and then, her heart set on flying, she applied to aviation schools, only to be turned down.\n\n\"Ah want to open a school anyone can attend,\" she said. \"Ah'm saving up every penny Ah can spare again. And every chance Ah get, Ah talk to people about what a coloured girl can do.\"\n\nIn return, Daisy described growing up on her father's country estate, with all the privileges of a viscount's daughter\u2014and all the restrictions.\n\n\"Girls just didn't go to university,\" she explained. \"And they didn't work, either.\"\n\nThe War had enabled her to avoid finishing school and the social season, but it had also killed her brother, so that when her father died, the estate had gone to a distant cousin.\n\n\"No one left to stop me working,\" she shouted. \"Mother tried! Tried to stop me marrying Alec, too. He's a policeman, a detective.\"\n\nNaturally Bessie wanted to know what had brought them to America and how they found themselves chasing an air pirate across the country. By the time Daisy had satisfied her curiosity, they were both hoarse.\n\n\"Sounds like you're just 'bout as crazy as I am,\" Bessie croaked with a grin.\n\nThere was another mountain range to cross, but they were able to fly round to the south of the highest peaks. They descended over a vast, flat, fertile plain surrounded by barren mountains. The blue waters of the Great Salt Lake sparkled in the distance. Shortly before noon, they landed in Salt Lake City.\n\nFrom the air, the great city looked deserted. The airfield was one of the regular stops on the coast-to-coast air mail route, but it too was oddly quiet.\n\n\"Sunday,\" Bessie said curtly, when Dipper asked where everyone was. \"This is the Mormon capital. They'll all be in church.\"\n\nAlec groaned. \"I suppose it's no use trying to find out what's going on, then, or conversely to tell anyone what we think is going on.\"\n\n\"Let's refuel as quick as we can and get moving,\" said Dipper cheerfully. He claimed to have been unable to close his eyes for fear of his life, but both he and Alec were much restored. He left a bank draft for the petrol, made out to the City Fathers, and they took off again.\n\nDipper was pilot, with Bessie beside him to navigate, so Daisy and Alec were together. Since his comment about \"what we think is going on,\" all her doubts had returned.\n\nWhat if Pitt wasn't heading for Eugene City, and she had dragged everyone across the country for nothing? Was it really Pitt she had seen in the Flatiron Building? If so, was he the murderer? If not, was it fear of the murderer that had made him run and hide? If so, was it her pursuit that had driven him to steal an aeroplane and kidnap the pilot?\n\nIf he reached Eugene City safely, that meant the pilot was unhurt. What harm had been done, apart from a minor disruption of the air mail service? Ought she to persuade Alec and Dipper to give up the chase and let Pitt escape in peace?\n\nBut what if he was his cousin's murderer?\n\nIn normal circumstances, she would have nerved herself to discuss these questions with Alec, whatever he thought of her vacillations. She couldn't bring herself to shout about it.\n\nHe held her hand as they took off. \"Not scared?\"\n\n\"Not after those mountains. Scared me half to death! Not you?\"\n\n\"I slept through them,\" he confessed.\n\n\"Oh, darling, what you missed. Utterly spectacular as well as utterly terrifying.\"\n\n\"More ahead, I gather, though not so high. I'll stay awake now.\"\n\nHe may have, but Daisy did not. She woke several hours later to find herself leaning against his shoulder, even colder and stiffer than before, and with a pain at her waist where the safety belt had cut into her. She groaned as she straightened.\n\nAlec couldn't hear her groan, of course. He smiled and shouted at her, \"Sleep well? We're going down.\"\n\nAhead, the sun was low over white topped mountains. The peaks were widely spaced, Daisy noted hopefully. With luck, crossing the range would not require stunt flying.\n\nAfter a low pass to inspect the ground, they made a bumpy landing in a field on the outskirts of the little logging town of Bend. Several horse-drawn carts\u2014buckboards, Bessie called them\u2014which had been headed out of town altered course to come and inspect the aeroplane. Each carried several men, and not a one wore a fedora or a trilby. Those not in caps or cowboy hats\u2014Stetsons\u2014had on bowler hats. Daisy felt vindicated.\n\nThey were loggers returning to the forests after spending their Sunday off in town. With Dipper promising largesse, they willingly agreed to transport gasoline.\n\n\"Will a little place like this have enough to spare?\" Daisy wondered.\n\n\"We don't need a full tank. Only eighty miles to go, as the crow flies,\" Bessie told her.\n\nAlec went off to the railway depot, determined to find a telegraph operator and let the authorities in Eugene know they were coming, and why. \"Helpful chap,\" he reported when he came back. \"I signed off with my full title, including 'Scotland Yard,' which isn't exactly correct but is more likely to be recognized than 'C.I.D. Metropolitan Police.' I hope it will get someone's attention.\"\n\nAs soon as they took off, to a great cheer from the loggers and townspeople, Daisy's worries returned. The fact that bowlers like Pitt's were common here did not actually mean anything, she realized. The one thing she had no doubts about was that Eugene was his home.\n\n\"Darling, what if Pitt's already got there and disappeared?\"\n\nAlec shrugged, grinning. \"Whole trip makes no practical sense,\" he shouted back. \"We should have stayed in New York and started a hue and cry. Not my job to chase American crooks.\"\n\n\"If it was, you'd have done it the practical way. You did send off those telegrams before we left.\"\n\n\"I asked someone to send them. Dipper says his friends aren't keen on paper-work, so who knows?\"\n\n\"Lambert will have reported what happened.\"\n\nShaking his head, Alec said, \"My guess is Lambert will have done a bunk. He'll send in his resignation from home.\"\n\nDaisy had to admit it wouldn't surprise her.\n\nThe last of a glorious sunset reflected rosily off the river as they landed at the Eugene airfield. Though the town had looked quite small from the air, it had a proper aerodrome, with well-kept grass, a hangar with a wind sleeve, tarmac, and a petrol pump. There was a small building, from which a man in uniform emerged as they taxied towards it. He stood with hands on hips, watching.\n\nBessie had been flying the aeroplane. She stopped on the tarmac and blissful silence fell as she switched off the engines. The man came over.\n\n\"Detective Chief Inspector Fletcher?\" he called up to Dipper.\n\nAlec had folded back the cabin's hood as they rolled across the grass. Standing up, he said, \"I'm Fletcher.\"\n\n\"Judkins, Chief of Eugene City Police. You send a cable?\"\n\n\"I did. I'm glad it reached you.\" Alec started to climb down.\n\n\"You got identification?\" the police chief asked, rather truculently. Though he could have had no way of knowing if Alec's credentials were genuine, he studied them carefully. \"O.K.\" he said, handing them back, apparently satisfied, \"so what's the story, Chief Inspector?\"\n\nAlec explained that the previous day they had witnessed the theft of a U.S. Post Office aeroplane and the kidnapping of its pilot. \"We have reason to believe the pirate intended to make his way to Eugene City.\"\n\n\"Oh yeah?\"\n\n\"My wife recognized him as someone known to her to have come from here.\" Alec glossed over the fact that Daisy hadn't remembered the name of the place until they reached Denver. \"I take it the plane hasn't landed here yet?\"\n\n\"Nah. Only person to land here last coupla days is our local aviator, Mr. Simmons, back from a business trip to Portland. I'da heard for sure if an air mail plane came in. I ought to've heard it was expected.\"\n\n\"We did our best to notify the proper authorities,\" Alec assured him, \"but we thought it best to come ourselves to make sure he would be apprehended.\"\n\n\"The proper authorities, huh? Well now, this here's a federal offence. We got two federal agents in town, but they're Prohibition men. I don't know that they'd have the authority to arrest this here... . You didn't give me a name in your cable, Chief Inspector.\"\n\n\"Pitt,\" Alec told him. \"Wilbur Pitt.\"\n\n\"Can't call him to mind,\" said Judkins, shaking his head.\n\n\"He's Otis Carmody's cousin,\" said Daisy.\n\nSuddenly alert, Judkins exclaimed, \"Mr. Carmody's boy? He was shot in New York City.\"\n\n\"I saw him shot. Wilbur Pitt was there and he ran away.\"\n\n\"Pitt shot his cousin?\"\n\n\"I didn't say that,\" Daisy protested, suddenly exhausted and certain she had misinterpreted everything, from Pitt's presence at the Flatiron to his intended destination.\n\n\"So you didn't, ma'am. But I guess that's enough for me to hold him on, pending New York State requesting extradition. I'll need you to take a look at him when he lands and make a statement.\"\n\n\"He's not likely to land in the dark,\" said Alec. \"My wife's had a tiring two days, Mr. Judkins. If you don't mind, we'll go and find a hotel for the night.\"\n\n\"I'd like for you to stick around for a bit, Mr. Fletcher, talk 'bout how we're gonna do this without everything going up in flames.\"\n\n\"I'll take the ladies to a hotel, old man,\" said Dipper, returning with Bessie from hauling the plane into a hangar, with the aid of a mechanic.\n\n\"Streetcar's over that way,\" said Judkins.\n\n\"I'll call for a cab,\" said the mechanic disapprovingly. Daisy guessed Dipper, whose funds seemed inexhaustible, had rewarded his help with a lavish tip. \"It's the Osburn you want, sir.\"\n\nThe taxi took them to the Hotel Osburn. As they entered, it dawned on Daisy that, dressed in flying suits and with no luggage, they would not appear to the management as desirable guests. She relied on Dipper to cope.\n\nDipper might have succeeded if it hadn't been for Bessie.\n\n\"No coloureds,\" said the desk clerk, stony-faced. \"There's a rooming house the other side of the river.\"\n\nTired as she was, Daisy wasn't going to stand for that. \"If Miss Coleman can't stay here,\" she snapped, \"I shan't. Come on.\" And she marched out to the pavement.\n\nThe others followed. They stood in a cold, weary, disconsolate group under the winking hotel sign. Somewhere a train whistled mournfully.\n\n\"There's bound to be another hotel in the town,\" said Dipper with forced cheeriness.\n\n\"It'll be the same, honey,\" said Bessie dispiritedly. \"Ah'll go find the rooming house and y'all go on back in there.\"\n\n\"Never!\" Daisy and Dipper declared as one.\n\nAlmost dropping on her feet by now, Daisy wondered where on earth they were going to spend the night. Perhaps Chief Judkins would give them a bed in a cell.\n\n\"I'll find us somewhere,\" Dipper said confidently. \"I hate to leave you, ladies, but first I'll have to find someone to ask.\"\n\n\"Looks like that might be an all-night drugstore over there,\" said Bessie, pointing.\n\nAs Daisy and Dipper turned to look, a young man strode up to them. \"Miss Coleman?\" he asked Bessie eagerly. \"You're Miss Bessie Coleman, ma'am?\"\n\n\"Ah sure am.\"\n\n\"Haycox, Ernest Haycox, Eugene Daily Guard. At least, I'm not a regular reporter\u2014I'm a student at the university\u2014but I happened to be talking to Mr. Fisher when some guy out at the airfield called in that you'd just flown into town. Mr. Fisher said would I like to interview you. Would that be O.K., ma'am?\"\n\n\"Sure thing, but first we have to find a place to stay, me and my friends. This here's the Honourable Mrs. Fletcher, and this gentleman's Sir Roland Amboyne, the British War ace. And Mr. Fletcher's out at the airfield consulting with your police chief. He's a Detective Chief Inspector at Scotland Yard.\"\n\n\"Whew!\" Haycox whistled. \"There's gotta be a big story here. Say, ma'am, sir, can I interview you, too? And Mr. Fletcher? But aren't you staying here at the Osburn... ? Oh, no, don't tell me. You just wait, I'll fix things. Come on in and sit in the lobby while I get to a phone.\"\n\nDaisy sank onto a sofa by a roaring fire, doubting that she'd ever be able to get up again. Bessie sat beside her, tensely upright, while Dipper leant against the mantelpiece, taking out his pipe. Haycox went over to the reception desk.\n\nThey couldn't hear what he said, but he persuaded the clerk to lend him the telephone. He spoke for a few minutes, then came over to them, grinning.\n\n\"It's all fixed,\" he announced. \"Mr. Fisher, the owner of the Guard, will be happy to host you, Mrs. Fletcher, and your husband, of course. And Mr. Earl Simmons, our local aviator and owner of E. C. Simmons Motor Company, would be thrilled to death to have you stay, Miss Coleman, and you, sir. They're both motoring over to fetch you.\"\n\nDaisy did not think Alec would be thrilled to be staying with a newspaperman, but she was beyond caring. When the desk clerk came over to say he had consulted Mr. and Mrs. Osburn and there were rooms free after all, she was almost tempted just to stay put. The man had obviously overheard Haycox crying them up on the phone. But to accept would be to let down Bessie, and to disappoint Mr. Fisher, who was expecting to put up a Scotland Yard detective.\n\nMrs. Fisher took the unexpected guest in her stride and asked for no explanations. While her husband drove off to the airfield to find out what was going on and to bring back Alec, she lent Daisy a nightdress and dressing gown. It was utter bliss to get out of the flying suit and Jake's trousers, and into a hot bath.\n\nFood completed the transformation: Daisy was beginning to feel almost human again when Mr. Fisher returned with Alec. He had apparently been told enough to satisfy him for the present, for he let Alec eat in peace.\n\nDaisy didn't like to ask Alec what plans had been made for her to identify Pitt\u2014always supposing he actually landed in Eugene\u2014in case she let slip something Mr. Fisher had not been told. Her thoughts turned to Miss Genevieve, ex-crime reporter, who must be dying to know what was going on, might even be worrying. After all, Daisy, Alec and Lambert had dashed off without a word of farewell.\n\nLambert might have sent her a telegram, as Daisy requested, but he was not to be relied upon. Moreover, if he had sent one, it would have worried the Cabot sisters still more to know Daisy had embarked on a perilous cross-country aeroplane flight.\n\n\"Mrs. Fisher, would you mind awfully if I sent a telegram? Just a short one, to reassure a friend. If Alec hasn't enough money to pay for it, I'm sure Sir Roland will.\"\n\n\"Pay for it?\" cried Mr. Fisher. \"Nonsense! It's a business expense. Make it as long as you like.\"\n\nSo to the brief message that she had arrived safely in Eugene, Oregon, Daisy added a request to notify Mr. Thorwald\u2014and Kevin, she tacked on as an afterthought. She did not want the Misses Cabot roused in the night, so she told the Western Union clerk to deliver the telegram in the morning.\n\nBy the time they read it, Pitt might have landed. Or he might not. Daisy was too sleepy to care.\n\nHaving gone to bed early, Daisy woke early the next morning. It was still dark outside, but the luminous hands of her wrist-watch told her it was after six o'clock. She slipped out of her bed and tiptoed across the rag rug to squeeze into Alec's bed with him.\n\nIt wasn't nearly as tight a fit as the bunk they had shared crossing the Atlantic. Plenty of room for what she had in mind.\n\nDaylight was seeping through the curtains an hour or so later, when they heard domestic noises from below. \"That sounds like breakfast preparations,\" said Daisy. \"I'm starving. Gosh, I hate to get back into Jake's trousers.\"\n\n\"Mrs. Fisher seems to possess the imperturbability necessary to a newspaperman's wife\u2014or a policeman's. I don't suppose she'd mind you going down in that dressing gown she lent you. I'll pop out as soon as the shops are open and see if I can find a frock for you. Judkins will just have to wait.\"\n\nDaisy kissed him, so it was a few minutes before she got up. She found Mr. Fisher at the breakfast table, studying the competing Morning Register.\n\n\"They haven't even a mention of your arrival,\" he said with satisfaction. \"Good morning, Mrs. Fletcher.\"\n\n\"Good morning. I hope you don't mind this.\" She indicated her dishabille, just as his wife came through from the kitchen.\n\n\"That's just fine, honey,\" said Mrs. Fisher. \"I ran you up a dress last night on my sewing machine. You can try it on after breakfast. Ingrid's making waffles.\"\n\n\"Spiffing!\" Daisy assured her. \"It's awfully kind of you to make me a frock. I can't tell you...\"\n\n\"A cable came for you,\" Mr. Fisher interrupted, flipping through a heap of letters beside his plate and fishing out a yellow Western Union envelope.\n\n\"Heavens! Who on earth...? Oh, it must be from Miss Genevieve. I'd forgotten the time difference. She's the only person who knows where I am.\"\n\nMr. Fisher handed her a paper knife. He didn't resume his perusal of his competitor's newspaper but watched as she slit the envelope, no doubt hoping for something newsworthy. Alec came in as she unfolded the form.\n\n\"A cable from Miss Genevieve, darling. She was feeling extravagant. It's miles long.\" Daisy started to read. \"Oh no! How too, too dreadful! Gilligan's arrested Barton Bender for murder, and Mrs. Carmody as an accessory. So it wasn't Pitt, after all.\" Despairingly she gazed at Alec over the telegram. She had hounded an innocent man into committing a crime!\n\n\"Great Scott!\" Frowning, Alec leant across the table and twitched the telegram from her fingers. He read, then looked up at her with a wry grin. \"Buck up, my love. You didn't read far enough. Gilligan's arrested that precious pair, yes, but Agent Whitaker has arrested Lambert.\"\n\nDaisy stared at him incredulously. \"Lambert? For murdering Otis Carmody?\"\n\n\"Let me see if I can make this out. Her telegraphese is so brilliantly ingenious, it takes some working out. She learnt some of this information from your young friend Kevin. Lambert apparently returned to New York and sneaked into the Chelsea to pick up his stuff. Whitaker had asked the management to notify him when any of the three of us returned, which they duly did. Lambert going out met Whitaker coming in and took to his heels\u2014Miss Genevieve witnessed that bit. But I didn't think Lambert knew Whitaker.\"\n\n\"He may not have known him, but he saw him when Whitaker came to see me at the hotel. We took him for a villain, remember, and they hid me, he and Mr. Thorwald and Pascoli, with Kevin's help, of course, after Balfour warned us. Maybe Lambert got muddled and thought he really was a villain. It would be like him.\"\n\n\"Very,\" Alec agreed wholeheartedly. \"Hmm, what does Miss Genevieve mean by 'Washington'?\"\n\n\"The Washington connection,\" said Daisy. \"I bet she thinks Whitaker thinks Lambert was sent by someone in Washington whom Carmody upset, to assassinate him. What utter bosh! No one in his right mind would send Lambert to accomplish anything!\"\n\n\"No one who knew him, certainly.\"\n\n\"And as for Barton Bender, his arrest doesn't necessarily mean there's any real evidence against him. Rosencrantz and Guildenstern just want a scapegoat until after the election.\"\n\nMr. Fisher had listened avidly to every word in silent fascination, but this was too much for him. \"Rosencrantz and Guildenstern?\" he asked.\n\nDaisy looked at Alec, suddenly aware that they had been spouting all sorts of things which he might not want the newspaperman to hear.\n\n\"It's all right,\" he said. \"Mr. Fisher has promised not to publish the story until Chief Judkins gives him the word.\"\n\nSo Daisy explained how Hamlet's courtiers had worked their way into the adventure in spite of her efforts to keep them out. \"I was constantly afraid I'd use those names to their faces,\" she confessed. \"They already considered me an unreliable witness. They would not have been amused.\"\n\nMr. Fisher laughed heartily, but he went on to ask, \"And who exactly are the other people you mentioned?\"\n\n\"Not now, Chuck,\" Mrs. Fisher chided. \"Let them eat their waffles while they're hot.\"\n\nChief Judkins arrived while they were still eating. Daisy was embarrassed to be caught in a dressing gown, but he was either too polite to appear to notice or too preoccupied to notice. He was persuaded to sit down to a waffle and a cup of coffee. Then he and Alec put their heads together, and Daisy went to change into the dress Mrs. Fisher had made her. It was a rather ghastly mustard yellow wool, clashing horribly with her blue costume jacket, but it fitted reasonably well and she was far too grateful to quibble. Anything rather than Jake's trousers.\n\nJudkins drove her and Alec out to the airfield in a Model T with police insignia. (Mr. Fisher swore he would join them there after calling at his office.)\n\nOn the way, Alec told Daisy the Chief had made some telephone calls and discovered that news of the pirating of the post office plane had been circulated to Investigation Bureau field offices all over the country. \"But no one seems to have made the association of the pirate with Eugene,\" he said. \"They had a report from a farmer somewhere in Illinois of it landing to refuel at an emergency airfield.\"\n\n\"That's all? Isn't Illinois somewhere in the middle of the country?\" Daisy asked.\n\n\"Midwest,\" Judkins confirmed over his shoulder.\n\n\"But it must have come down more than once, mustn't it, darling?\"\n\n\"Yes, if he's coming all the way to Oregon. But remember how few people we saw. Pitt would force the pilot to stick to emergency fields well away from towns.\"\n\n\"I suppose all he had to do was threaten to shoot him if he landed at a proper aerodrome. Unless he decided to stop somewhere else and come home by train. Or just stay somewhere else.\"\n\n\"I sure hope not,\" said Judkins. \"I got a federal agent coming down from Salem just to pinch this guy.\"\n\n\"If Pitt had hopped off somewhere en route, the pilot would have reported by now,\" Alec argued.\n\n\"Not if Pitt made him fly to Mexico,\" Judkins pointed out. \"Or shot him.\"\n\nDaisy shivered. It would be bad enough if Pitt just didn't turn up, after all the fuss. But what if Rosenblatt and Gilligan were right that Bender was Carmody's murderer, and her pursuit of Pitt had caused the death of the pilot?\n\nAlec put his arm around her shoulders. \"There's plenty of time yet for him to arrive,\" he said comfortingly. \"The pilot had no one to relieve him, so they would have had to stop for him to rest.\"\n\nThey drove up to the airfield building and stopped beside a large and gleaming Packard. Two police officers came over to salute Judkins. As Alec and Daisy got out of the Ford, Dipper, Bessie, the reporter Ernest Haycox, and another man\u2014Earl Simmons, Daisy guessed\u2014emerged from the hangar.\n\nThose who had not met were introduced. Simmons wanted to tell Daisy about his wife, who often flew with him. \"I dropped Mrs. Simmons off by plane Saturday in Salem to visit with relatives,\" he said. \"She'll be real sorry to have missed you. She'd have been mighty pleased to meet the real English aristocracy seeing she married a fake Earl! And you a flyer, too.\"\n\n\"Not really,\" said Daisy, smiling at Haycox, who hovered at her side, notebook in hand, anxious to interview her. \"I'm not a pilot.\"\n\n\"No more is Mrs. Simmons. But Miss Coleman's been telling me how you helped her navigate through the mountains. Now I gotta admit, I never flew across the Rockies. Miss Coleman's gonna take me up for some stunts while she's here. Before Mrs. Simmons comes home,\" he added with a wink.\n\nThey turned to look at Bessie, to find her standing quite still, staring into the northern sky. \"There's a plane coming,\" she said. Squinting against the glare, Daisy made out a distant dot. Everyone fell silent, and a faint buzz came to her ears. \"Sounds like it's a DH-4,\" said Bessie. \"That's what the post office flies.\"\n\nDipper swung up his binoculars. \"It is. That's him.\"\n\n\"Everyone under cover,\" snapped Chief Judkins. His men herded them into the building.\n\nAll except Alec, who stayed outside conferring with Judkins, to Daisy's dismay. The two officers joined them, then all four moved out of sight.\n\nDaisy was on tenterhooks. Dipper was indignant. \"Dash it!\" he exclaimed, standing behind her at the window, \"I could have helped if they'd just told me what to do.\"\n\n\"Me too,\" said Haycox.\n\n\"Don't go out now, for heaven's sake,\" said Daisy. \"If Pitt sees people around he might decide not to land. Or you might put Alec and the others in danger.\"\n\nFor what seemed an age, nothing happened. Then the drone of the approaching plane penetrated the walls. It grew louder, and suddenly the biplane appeared, a few feet above the grass, crossing in front of the building. The post office insignia was plain on its side. It really was the pirated aeroplane. Daisy exhaled on a long sigh. She had not quite believed it until that moment.\n\nThe wheels touched down, bounced, settled again. As the plane slowed, the tail came down and the skid slid across the grass. Just before the plane moved out of Daisy's field of view, the pilot turned his head for a quick glance behind him.\n\nThat was when she realized there was no figure sitting in the rear with the mailbag.\n\nWhere was Pitt? If he had abandoned ship before reaching Eugene, why had the pilot come here? Was it a different aeroplane after all, perhaps the first of a new air mail service to Oregon?\n\nWhere was Wilbur Pitt?\n\nThe plane taxied back into view, close enough for the engine noise to make the window panes vibrate. It stopped on the tarmac. Silence came as a shock. The pilot clambered down with what looked like weary haste, and started towards the building at a lumbering run.\n\nAs one, Dipper and Haycox moved towards the door, but Alec and Judkins intercepted the pilot. They exchanged a few words. Judkins waved his arms and headed for the plane, while Alec and the pilot came on towards the building.\n\nDaisy was torn between watching what happened outside and going to meet Alec. She stayed at the window long enough to see Judkins and his officers approach the biplane, crouching beneath the illusory protection of its canvascovered wings. Then she turned away as Alec and the pilot came into the room.\n\n\"Let the man sit down,\" said Alec as everyone crowded around, babbling questions. \"Yes, Pitt's on the plane. He's asleep.\"\n\n\"And not likely to wake without he's shaken,\" said the pilot in a gravelly voice, flopping into a chair and taking off his helmet. He looked badly in need of sleep himself, his eyes red-rimmed, his hands trembling. The urge to tell his story was stronger. \"He's stayed awake two nights, holding a gun on me. I didn't sleep too good, I can tell you, and every time I woke up, there he was with his eyes wide open and that goddamn gun pointing at me. He threatened to burn the mail, too. And he talked, boy, did he talk. Say, anything to eat and drink around here?\"\n\n\"There's usually something in the icebox,\" said Simmons, hurrying out.\n\n\"What did Pitt talk about?\" Daisy asked. All she really wanted to know was whether he had shot Otis Carmody.\n\n\"Pitt's his name? He didn't tell me. Mostly he went on about his book. He's written this goddamn\u2014excuse me, ma'am\u2014this book, see, and he quoted me miles and miles of it. Geez, what a load of bull!\"\n\n\"Here.\" Simmons returned, carrying a box and a bottle. \"It's not much.\" He opened the box to reveal several semi-mummified doughnuts. \"And a root beer. I can put on coffee.\"\n\n\"That'd be dandy, thank you, sir.\"\n\n\"And I'll take you into town and buy you a good meal soon as Chief Judkins gives the O.K.\"\n\nThe pilot was already devouring doughnuts before Simmons finished speaking. He paused only to wash down the crumbs with root beer, whatever that might be. Simmons went off to make coffee; Dipper, Bessie, and Fisher returned to the window; Alec, Daisy, and Haycox stayed with the pilot.\n\n\"What else did Pitt say?\" Alec asked as the pilot finished off the bottle.\n\n\"He was shooting off his mouth about his cousin. Seems he had this cousin born with a silver spoon in his mouth, who was always putting on side. The guy laughed at his book, and that really got his goat, but if it wasn't for the bad blood between 'em going way back, I guess he wouldn't have shot him.\"\n\n\"He shot his cousin?\" Daisy demanded, wanting confirmation but already feeling tension drain from her. Everything she had done, and persuaded other people to do, was justified, after all.\n\n\"Yeah, didn't I say? That's why he was on the run. Said he didn't mean to kill him, just show him he was serious and make him stop saying the book was baloney. Only he\u2014the cousin\u2014fell down an elevator shaft and broke his neck. Pitt was sure he did it just to louse him up, like he was always doing when they were kids together. Nutty as a fruitcake, if you ask me.\"\n\n\"Darling,\" said Daisy, turning to Alec, \"you'd better go and cable Whitaker and tell him to release poor Lambert!\"\n\nJudkins brought Pitt in, looking like a sleepwalker between the two burly officers. He looked harmless enough, and they had not bothered to handcuff him. He was carrying his suitcase, clutched to his chest with both arms.\n\n\"It just has a bunch of papers in it,\" Judkins said to Alec. He patted his pocket. \"I got his gun. Mrs. Fletcher, ma'am, this is the man you saw kill Otis Carmody?\"\n\nClosing her eyes, Daisy took her mind back to the lift lobby and her brief glimpse of a fleeing man's face. When she opened her eyes, that face was in front of her, blinking back at her unseeingly.\n\n\"This is the man I saw running away in the Flatiron Building in New York City just after Carmody was killed,\" she said with confident precision.\n\n\"And he told me he shot his cousin,\" the pilot affirmed.\n\n\"Well, that about wraps it up,\" Judkins said with a sigh of relief.\n\nAt that moment, Pitt focussed on Ernest Haycox, busy with pad and pencil. \"You're a writer?\" he croaked, thrusting the suitcase at him. \"Here. Take this. My book. You understand, don'cha? You'll see it gets published?\"\n\n\"Gosh,\" said Daisy as the police led Pitt away, \"I think maybe I don't want to write a novel after all!\"\nEPILOGUE\n\nEarl C. Simmons swept into the Hotel Osburn's lobby with Bessie at his side. The day desk clerk opened his mouth\u2014and closed it again. It wasn't for him to question the actions of so notable a citizen. Daisy was not sure she approved of patronizing the place, but Bessie turned and winked at her.\n\nWith Alec, Dipper, and Jeffries, the post office pilot, Daisy followed Simmons and Bessie through to the restaurant. Jeffries was soon tucking into a vast plate of eggs, sausages, fried ham, hashed brown potatoes, and toast, while awaiting his order of hot cakes. The others contented themselves with coffee, except Daisy, who, after her early awakening decided it must be time for elevenses. The Danish pastries looked simply too scrumptious to resist.\n\nDipper, Bessie, and Simmons still had only the sketchiest notion of what had been going on. Alec told the story, with sticky interpolations from Daisy.\n\n\"So you see,\" he finished, \"I was a latecomer to the whole nasty business. Daisy was in it from the start, and I don't suppose the murder or the piracy would ever have been cleared up if not for her insight and persistence.\"\n\n\"Gosh, darling, I never thought I'd hear you say that!\" Daisy exclaimed, startled. She explained to the others, \"Alec generally tells me off for meddling when I get involved in his cases.\"\n\n\"But this case was yours, honey,\" said Bessie, \"right from the get-go. A girl's gotta fight for every scrap of credit she's earned. Don't you let anyone do you out of it.\"\n\n\"She won't,\" said Alec, and everyone laughed.\n\nJeffries finished his last pancake and his fourth cup of coffee. \"Oh boy,\" he said, leaning back, \"that was swell. Thank you, sir. I feel almost human again, fit to get the mail down to San Francisco.\"\n\n\"What, today?\" said Alec.\n\n\"'Neither snow, nor rain, nor heat, nor gloom of night stays these couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds,'\" Daisy quoted.\n\n\"I guess they forgot to put piracy in that,\" said Jeffries, \"but I don't reckon it excuses me for being any later than I can help. I'm off.\" He yawned. \"Hey, mebbe I better have another cup of coffee first.\"\n\n\"Miss Coleman and I have a sort of plan,\" said Dipper. \"I'm going to fly her to New Mexico to join her friends. Apparently San Francisco is on the way. How would it be, old chap, if one of us flew your kite?\"\n\n\"Now that's a scheme!\" Simmons applauded. \"I'll drive you over to the airfield.\"\n\nJeffries obviously wasn't keen on entrusting his precious mail to either a woman or a foreigner, but he was too tired to put up much of a fight.\n\n\"What about you, Arrow, Mrs. Fletcher?\" Dipper asked. \"Are you coming with us?\"\n\nAlec looked at Daisy. \"Whatever you want, love.\"\n\nDaisy weighed the terror of flying through the mountains, the boredom, the noise and cold and constant vibration, against the thrill of her first flight and the stupendous scenery she had seen. What tipped the balance was the thought of climbing back into Jake's trousers.\n\n\"No, thanks,\" she said. \"I'm glad to have done it, but if it's all the same to you, darling, I'm going back by train.\"\nAUTHOR'S NOTE\n\nA number of real people have sneaked into this story. Needless to say, their activities herein, inspired by meeting Daisy, are entirely imaginary.\nAlso by Carola Dunn\n\nThe Daisy Dalrymple Mysteries\n\nDeath at Wentwater Court   \nThe Winter Garden Mystery   \nRequiem for a Mezzo   \nMurder on the Flying Scotsman   \nDamsel in Distress   \nDead in the Water   \nStyx and Stones   \nRattle His Bones   \nTo Davy Jones Below\nTHE CASE OF THE MURDERED MUCKRAKER. Copyright \u00a9 2002 by Carola Dunn. All rights reserved.Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. For information, address St. Martin's Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.\n\nwww.minotaurbooks.com\n\neISBN 9781429999977\n\nFirst eBook Edition : April 2011\n\nLibrary of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data\n\nDunn, Carola.\n\nThe case of the murdered muckraker : a Daisy Dalrymple mystery \/ Carola Dunn.\u20141st ed.\n\np. cm.\n\nISBN 0-312-27284-7\n\n1. Dalrymple, Daisy (Fictitious character)\u2014Fiction. 2. British\u2014New York (State)\u2014New York\u2014Fiction. 3. Women journalists\u2014Fiction. 4. New York (N.Y.)\u2014Fiction. 5. Honeymoons\u2014Fiction. I. Title.\n\nPR6054.U537 C37 2002\n\n823'.914\u2014dc21\n\n2001048657\n\nFirst Edition: February 2002\n","meta":{"redpajama_set_name":"RedPajamaBook"}}
+{"text":"\n\n\n\nProduced by Marius Masi, Don Kretz, Juliet Sutherland and\nthe Online Distributed Proofreading Team at\nhttp:\/\/www.pgdp.net\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTranscriber's notes:\n\n(1) Numbers following letters (without space) like C2 were originally\n      printed in subscript.\n\n(2) Side-notes were relocated to function as titles of their respective\n      paragraphs.\n\n(3) Letters topped by Macron are represented as [=x].\n\n(4) The following typographical errors have been corrected:\n\n    Article COCKBURN, ALICIA: \"Robert Chambers states that the ballad\n      was written on the occasion of a great commercial disaster which\n      ruined the fortunes of some Selkirkshire lairds.\" 'commercial'\n      amended from 'commerical'.\n\n    Article COLCHESTER, CHARLES ABBOT: \"From Westminster school Charles\n      Abbot passed to Christ Church, Oxford, at which he gained the\n      chancellor's medal for Latin verse as well as the Vinerian\n      scholarship.\" Superfluous round bracket after 'scholarship'.\n\n    Article COLOGNE: \"The foundation of the present cathedral was then\n      laid by Conrad of Hochstaden (archbishop from 1238 to 1261).\"\n      '1238' amended from '1288'.\n\n    Article COLOMBIA: \"Sotara (15,420 ft.), Huila (over 18,000 ft.),\n      Tolima (18,432 ft.)\" Missing round bracket before 'over 18,000'.\n\n    Article COLOMBIA: \"Although it is found growing wild, cacao is\n      cultivated to a limited extent, and the product is insufficient for\n      home consumption.\" 'Although' amended from 'Athough'.\n\n    Article COLORADO: \"Melons are to some extent exported, and peaches\n      also; the musk-melons of the Arkansas valley (Rocky Ford\n      Canteloupes) being in demand all over the United States.\"\n      'Canteloupes' amended from 'Canteloups'.\n\n\n\n\n          ENCYCLOPAEDIA BRITANNICA\n\n  A DICTIONARY OF ARTS, SCIENCES, LITERATURE\n           AND GENERAL INFORMATION\n\n              ELEVENTH EDITION\n\n\n            VOLUME VI, SLICE VI\n\n     Cockaigne to Columbus, Christopher\n\n\n\n\nArticles in This Slice:\n\n\n  COCKAIGNE, LAND OF                  COLEPEPER, JOHN COLEPEPER\n  COCKATOO                            COLERAINE\n  COCKATRICE                          COLERIDGE, HARTLEY\n  COCKBURN, ALEXANDER JAMES EDMUND    COLERIDGE, JOHN DUKE COLERIDGE\n  COCKBURN, ALICIA                    COLERIDGE, SIR JOHN TAYLOR\n  COCKBURN, SIR GEORGE                COLERIDGE, SAMUEL TAYLOR\n  COCKBURN, HENRY THOMAS              COLERIDGE, SARA\n  COCKER, EDWARD                      COLET, JOHN\n  COCKERELL, CHARLES ROBERT           COLET, LOUISE\n  COCKERILL, WILLIAM                  COLEUS\n  COCKERMOUTH                         COLFAX, SCHUYLER\n  COCK-FIGHTING                       COLIC\n  COCK LANE GHOST                     COLIGNY, GASPARD DE\n  COCKLE, SIR JAMES                   COLIMA (coast state of Mexico)\n  COCKLE                              COLIMA (city of Mexico)\n  COCKNEY                             COLIN, ALEXANDRE\n  COCK-OF-THE-ROCK (bird)             COLL\n  COCK-OF-THE-ROCK (enclosed place)   COLLAERT, HANS\n  COCKROACH                           COLLAR\n  COCK'S-COMB                         COLLATERAL\n  COCKTON, HENRY                      COLLATIA\n  COCKX                               COLLATION\n  COCOA                               COLLE, CHARLES\n  COCO DE MER                         COLLECTIVISM\n  COCOMA                              COLLECTOR\n  COCO-NUT PALM                       COLLE DI VAL D' ELSA\n  COCYTUS                             COLLEGE\n  COD                                 COLLEONI, BARTOLOMMEO\n  CODA                                COLLETER\n  CODE                                COLLETTA, PIETRO\n  CODE NAPOLEON                       COLLEY, SIR GEORGE POMEROY\n  CODIAEUM                            COLLIER, ARTHUR\n  CODICIL                             COLLIER, JEREMY\n  CODILLA                             COLLIER, JOHN PAYNE\n  CODINUS, GEORGE                     COLLIN, HEINRICH JOSEPH VON\n  COD-LIVER OIL                       COLLIN D'HARLEVILLE, JEAN FRANCOIS\n  CODRINGTON, CHRISTOPHER             COLLING, ROBERT\n  CODRINGTON, SIR EDWARD              COLLINGWOOD, CUTHBERT COLLINGWOOD\n  CODRUS                              COLLINGWOOD (city of  Australia)\n  CODY, WILLIAM FREDERICK             COLLINGWOOD (town of Canada)\n  CO-EDUCATION                        COLLINS, ANTHONY\n  COEFFETEAU, NICOLAS                 COLLINS, JOHN CHURTON\n  COEHOORN, MENNO                     COLLINS, MORTIMER\n  COELENTERA                          COLLINS, WILLIAM (English poet)\n  COELLO, ALONSO SANCHEZ              COLLINS, WILLIAM (English painter)\n  COELLO, ANTONIO                     COLLINS, WILLIAM WILKIE\n  COELOM AND SEROUS MEMBRANES         COLLODION\n  COEN, JAN PIETERSZOON               COLLOT D'HERBOIS, JEAN MARIE\n  COENACULUM                          COLLUSION\n  COENWULF                            COLLYER, ROBERT\n  COERCION                            COLMAN, SAINT\n  COEUR, JACQUES                      COLMAN, GEORGE\n  COEUR D'ALENE                       COLMAN, SAMUEL\n  COFFEE                              COLMAR\n  COFFER                              COLNE\n  COFFERDAM                           COLOCYNTH\n  COFFEYVILLE                         COLOGNE\n  COFFIN                              COLOMAN\n  COG                                 COLOMB, PHILIP HOWARD\n  COGERS HALL                         COLOMBES\n  COGHLAN, CHARLES FRANCIS            COLOMBEY\n  COGNAC                              COLOMBIA\n  COGNITION                           COLOMBIER, PIERRE BERTRAND DE\n  COGNIZANCE                          COLOMBO\n  COHEN                               COLON (city of Panama)\n  COHN, FERDINAND JULIUS              COLON (town of Cuba)\n  COHN, GUSTAV                        COLON (intestine)\n  COHOES                              COLONEL\n  COHORT                              COLONIAL OFFICE\n  COIF                                COLONNA (Roman family)\n  COIMBATORE                          COLONNA, GIOVANNI PAOLO\n  COIMBRA                             COLONNA, VITTORIA\n  COIN                                COLONNADE\n  COIN                                COLONSAY\n  COINAGE OFFENCES                    COLONY\n  COIR                                COLOPHON (ancient city of Ionia)\n  COIRE                               COLOPHON (paragraph in manuscripts)\n  COKE, SIR EDWARD                    COLORADO\n  COKE, SIR JOHN                      COLORADO RIVER (stream of Argentine)\n  COKE, THOMAS                        COLORADO RIVER (stream of U.S.A.)\n  COKE                                COLORADO SPRINGS\n  COL                                 COLOSSAE\n  COLBERT, JEAN BAPTISTE              COLOSSAL CAVERN\n  COLBERT DE CROISSY, CHARLES         COLOSSIANS, EPISTLE TO THE\n  COLBURN, HENRY                      COLOSSUS\n  COLBURN, ZERAH                      COLOUR\n  COLBY, THOMAS FREDERICK             COLOURS, MILITARY\n  COLCHAGUA                           COLOUR-SERGEANT\n  COLCHESTER, CHARLES ABBOT           COLOURS OF ANIMALS\n  COLCHESTER (town of England)        COLSTON, EDWARD\n  COLCHESTER (township of Vermont)    COLT, SAMUEL\n  COLCHICUM                           COLT'S-FOOT\n  COLCHIS                             COLUGO\n  COLCOTHAR                           COLUMBA, SAINT\n  COLD                                COLUMBAN\n  COLDEN, CADWALLADER                 COLUMBANI, PLACIDO\n  COLD HARBOR                         COLUMBARIUM\n  COLDSTREAM                          COLUMBIA (city of Missouri)\n  COLDWATER                           COLUMBIA (borough of Pennsylvania)\n  COLE, SIR HENRY                     COLUMBIA (city of South Carolina)\n  COLE, THOMAS                        COLUMBIA (city of Tennessee)\n  COLE, TIMOTHY                       COLUMBIA RIVER\n  COLE, VICAT                         COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY\n  COLEBROOKE, HENRY THOMAS            COLUMBINE (dancer)\n  COLEMANITE                          COLUMBINE (plant)\n  COLENSO, JOHN WILLIAM               COLUMBITE\n  COLENSO (village of Natal)          COLUMBIUM\n  COLEOPTERA                          COLUMBUS, CHRISTOPHER\n\n\n\n\nCOCKAIGNE (COCKAYNE), LAND OF (O. Fr. _Coquaigne_, mod. Fr. _cocagne_,\n\"abundance,\" from Ital. _Cocagna_; \"as we say 'Lubberland,' the\nepicure's or glutton's home, the land of all delights, so taken in\nmockerie\": Florio), an imaginary country, a medieval Utopia where life\nwas a continual round of luxurious idleness. The origin of the Italian\nword has been much disputed. It seems safest to connect it, as do Grimm\nand Littre, ultimately with Lat. _coquere_, through a word meaning\n\"cake,\" the literal sense thus being \"The Land of Cakes.\" In Cockaigne\nthe rivers were of wine, the houses were built of cake and barley-sugar,\nthe streets were paved with pastry, and the shops supplied goods for\nnothing. Roast geese and fowls wandered about inviting folks to eat\nthem, and buttered larks fell from the skies like manna. There is a\n13th-century French _fabliau_, _Cocaigne_, which was possibly intended\nto ridicule the fable of the mythical Avalon, \"the island of the Blest.\"\nThe 13th-century English poem, _The Land of Cockaygne_, is a satire on\nmonastic life. The term has been humorously applied to London, and by\nBoileau to the Paris of the rich. The word has been frequently confused\nwith Cockney (q.v.).\n\n  See D. M. Meon, _Fabliaux et contes_ (4 vols., 1808), and F. J.\n  Furnivall, _Early English Poems_ (Berlin, 1862).\n\n\n\n\nCOCKATOO (_Cacatuidae_), a family of parrots characterized among Old\nWorld forms by their usually greater size, by the crest of feathers on\nthe head, which can be raised or depressed at will, and by the absence\nof green in their coloration. They inhabit the Indian Archipelago, New\nGuinea and Australia, and are gregarious, frequenting woods and feeding\non seeds, fruits and the larvae of insects. Their note is generally\nharsh and unmusical, and although they are readily tamed when taken\nyoung, becoming familiar, and in some species showing remarkable\nintelligence, their powers of vocal imitation are usually limited. Of\nthe true cockatoos (_Cacatua_) the best known is the sulphur-crested\ncockatoo (_Cacatua galerita_), of a pure white plumage with the\nexception of the crest, which is deep sulphur yellow, and of the ear and\ntail coverts, which are slightly tinged with yellow. The crest when\nerect stands 5 in. high. These birds are found in Australia in flocks\nvarying from 100 to 1000 in number, and do great damage to newly-sown\ngrain, for which reason they are mercilessly destroyed by farmers. They\ndeposit their eggs--two in number, and of a pure white colour--in the\nhollows of decayed trees or in the fissures of rocks, according to the\nnature of the locality in which they reside. This is one of the species\nmost usually kept in Europe as a cage bird. Leadbeater's Cockatoo\n(_Cacatua Leadbeateri_), an inhabitant of South Australia, excels all\nothers in the beauty of its plumage, which consists in great part of\nwhite, tinged with rose colour, becoming a deep salmon colour under the\nwings, while the crest is bright crimson at the base, with a yellow spot\nin the centre and white at the tip. It is exceedingly shy and difficult\nof approach, and its note is more plaintive while less harsh than that\nof the preceding species. In the cockatoos belonging to the genus\n_Calyptorhynchus_ the general plumage is black or dark brown, usually\nwith a large spot or band of red or yellow on the tail. The largest of\nthese is known as the funereal cockatoo (_Calyptorhynchus funereus_),\nfrom the lugubrious note or call which it utters, resembling the two\nsyllables Wy--la--, the native name of the species. It deposits its eggs\nin the hollows of the large gum-trees of Australia, and feeds largely on\nthe larvae of insects, in search of which it peels off the bark of\ntrees, and when thus employed it may be approached closely. The\ncockateel (_Calopsittacus novaehollandiae_), the only species in the\nfamily smaller than a pigeon, and with a long pointed tail, is a common\naviary bird, and breeds freely in captivity.\n\n\n\n\nCOCKATRICE, a fabulous monster, the existence of which was firmly\nbelieved in throughout ancient and medieval times,--descriptions and\nfigures of it appearing in the natural history works of such writers as\nPliny and Aldrovandus, those of the latter published so late as the\nbeginning of the 17th century. Produced from a cock's egg hatched by a\nserpent, it was believed to possess the most deadly powers, plants\nwithering at its touch, and men and animals dying poisoned by its look.\nIt stood in awe, however, of the cock, the sound of whose crowing\nkilled it, and consequently travelers were wont to take this bird with\nthem in travelling over regions supposed to abound in cockatrices. The\nweasel alone among mammals was unaffected by the glance of its evil eye,\nand attacked it at all times successfully; for when wounded by the\nmonster's teeth it found a ready remedy in rue--the only plant which the\ncockatrice could not wither. This myth reminds one of the real contests\nbetween the weasel-like mungoos of India and the deadly cobra, in which\nthe latter is generally killed. The term \"cockatrice\" is employed on\nfour occasions in the English translation of the Bible, in all of which\nit denotes nothing more than an exceedingly venomous reptile; it seems\nalso to be synonymous with \"basilisk,\" the mythical king of serpents.\n\n\n\n\nCOCKBURN, SIR ALEXANDER JAMES EDMUND, 10th Bart. (1802-1880), lord chief\njustice of England, was born on the 24th of December 1802, of ancient\nScottish stock. He was the son of Alexander, fourth son of Sir James\nCockburn, 6th baronet, his three uncles, who had successively held the\ntitle, dying without heirs. His father was British envoy extraordinary\nand minister plenipotentiary to the state of Columbia, and married\nYolande, daughter of the vicomte de Vignier. Young Alexander was at one\ntime intended for the diplomatic service, and frequently during the\nlegal career which he ultimately adopted he was able to make\nconsiderable use of the knowledge of foreign languages, especially\nFrench, with which birth and early education had equipped him. He was\neducated at Trinity Hall, Cambridge, of which he was elected a fellow,\nand afterwards an honorary fellow. He entered at the Middle Temple in\n1825, and was called to the bar in 1829. He joined the western circuit,\nand for some time such practice as he was able to obtain lay at the\nDevon sessions, quarter sessions at that time affording an opening and a\nschool of advocacy to young counsel not to be found anywhere fifty years\nlater. In London he had so little to do that only the persuasion of\nfriends induced him to keep his London chambers open. Three years after\nhis call to the bar, however, the Reform Bill was passed, and the\npetitions which followed the ensuing general election gave rise to a\nlarge number of new questions for the decision of election committees,\nand afforded an opening of which he promptly availed himself. The\ndecisions of the committees had not been reported since 1821, and with\nM. C. Rowe, another member of the western circuit, Cockburn undertook a\nnew series of reports. They only published one volume, but the work was\nwell done, and in 1833 Cockburn had his first parliamentary brief.\n\nIn 1834 Cockburn was well enough thought of to be made a member of the\ncommission to inquire into the state of the corporations of England and\nWales. Other parliamentary work followed; but he had ambition to be more\nthan a parliamentary counsel, and attended diligently on his circuit,\nbesides appearing before committees. In 1841 he was made a Q.C., and in\nthat year a charge of simony, brought against his uncle, William, dean\nof York, enabled him to appear conspicuously in a case which attracted\nconsiderable public attention, the proceedings taking the form of a\nmotion for prohibition duly obtained against the ecclesiastical court,\nwhich had deprived Dr Cockburn of his office. Not long after this, Sir\nRobert Peel's secretary, Edward Drummond, was shot by the crazy\nScotsman, Daniel M'Naughten, and Cockburn, briefed on behalf of the\nassassin, not only made a very brilliant speech, which established the\ndefence of insanity, but also secured the full publicity of a long\nreport in the _Morning Chronicle_ of the 6th of March 1843. Another\nwell-known trial in which he appeared a year later was that of _Wood_ v.\n_Peel_ (_The Times_, 2nd and 3rd of July 1844), the issue being in form\nto determine the winner of a bet (the Gaming Act was passed in the\nfollowing year) as to the age of the Derby winner Running Rein--in\nsubstance to determine, if possible, the vexed question whether Running\nRein was a four-year-old or a three-year-old when he was racing as the\nlatter. Running Rein could not be produced by Mr Wood, and Baron\nAlderson took a strong view of this circumstance, so that Cockburn found\nhimself on the losing side, while his strenuous advocacy of his client's\ncause had led him into making, in his opening speech, strictures on\nLord George Bentinck's conduct in the case which had better have been\nreserved to a later stage. He was, however, a hard fighter, but not an\nunfair one--a little irritable at times, but on the whole a courteous\ngentleman, and his practice went on increasing.\n\nIn 1847 he decided to stand for parliament, and was elected without a\ncontest Liberal M.P. for Southampton. His speech in the House of Commons\non behalf of the government in the Don Pacifico dispute with Greece\ncommended him to Lord John Russell, who appointed him solicitor-general\nin 1850 and attorney-general in 1851, a post which he held till the\nresignation of the ministry in February 1852. During the short\nadministration of Lord Derby which followed, Sir Frederic Thesiger was\nattorney-general, and Cockburn was engaged against him in the case of\n_R._ v. _Newman_, on the prosecution of Achilli. This was the trial of a\ncriminal information for libel filed against John Henry Newman, who had\ndenounced a scandalous and profligate friar named Achilli, then\nlecturing on Roman Catholicism in England. Newman pleaded justification;\nbut the jury who heard the case in the Queen's Bench, with Lord Campbell\npresiding, found that the justification was not proved except in one\nparticular: a verdict which, together with the methods of the judge and\nthe conduct of the audience, attracted considerable comment. The verdict\nwas set aside, and a new trial ordered, but none ever took place. In\nDecember 1852, under Lord Aberdeen's ministry, Cockburn became again\nattorney-general, and so remained until 1856, taking part in many\ncelebrated trials, such as the Hopwood Will Case in 1855, and the\nSwynfen Will Case, but notably leading for the crown in the trial of\nWilliam Palmer of Rugeley in Staffordshire--an ex-medical man who had\ntaken to the turf, and who had poisoned a friend of similar pursuits\nnamed Cook with strychnine, in order to obtain money from his estate by\nforgery and otherwise. Cockburn made an exhaustive study of the medical\naspects of the case, and the prisoner's comment when convicted after a\ntwelve days' trial was, alluding to the attorney-general's advocacy, \"It\nwas the riding that did it.\" In 1854 Cockburn was made recorder of\nBristol. In 1856 he became chief justice of the common pleas. He\ninherited the baronetcy in 1858. In 1859 Lord Campbell became\nchancellor, and Cockburn became chief justice of the Queen's Bench,\ncontinuing as a judge for twenty-four years and dying in harness. On\nFriday, the 19th of November 1880, he tried causes with special juries\nat Westminster; on Saturday, the 20th, he presided over a court for the\nconsideration of crown cases reserved; he walked home, and on that night\nhe died of _angina pectoris_ at his house in Hertford Street.\n\nSir Alexander Cockburn earned and deserved a high reputation as a judge.\nHe was a man of brilliant cleverness and rapid intuition rather than of\nprofound and laboriously cultivated intellect. He had been a great\nadvocate at the bar, with a charm of voice and manner, fluent and\npersuasive rather than learned; but before he died he was considered a\ngood lawyer, some assigning his unquestioned improvement in this respect\nto his frequent association on the bench with Blackburn. He had\nnotoriously little sympathy with the Judicature Acts. Many were of\nopinion that he was inclined to take an advocate's view of the cases\nbefore him, making up his mind as to their merits prematurely and, in\nconsequence, wrongly, as well as giving undue prominence to the views\nwhich he so formed; but he was beyond doubt always in intention, and\ngenerally in fact, scrupulously fair. It is not necessary to enumerate\nthe many _causes celebres_ at which Sir Alexander Cockburn presided as a\njudge. It was thought that he went out of his way to arrange that they\nshould come before him, and his successor, Lord Coleridge, writing in\n1881 to Lord Bramwell, to make the offer that he should try the murderer\nLefroy as a last judicial act before retiring, added, \"Poor dear\nCockburn would hardly have given you such a chance.\" Be this as it may,\nCockburn tried all cases which came before him, whether great or small,\nwith the same thoroughness, courtesy and dignity, so that no counsel or\nsuitor could complain that he had not been fully heard in a matter in\nwhich the issues were seemingly trivial; while he certainly gave great\nattention to the elaboration of his judgments and charges to juries. He\npresided at the Tichborne trial at Bar, lasting 188 days, of which his\nsumming-up occupied eighteen.\n\nThe greatest public occasion on which Sir Alexander Cockburn acted,\noutside his usual judicial functions, was that of the \"Alabama\"\narbitration, held at Geneva in 1872, in which he represented the British\ngovernment, and dissented from the view taken by the majority of the\narbitrators, without being able to convince them. He prepared, with Mr\nC. F. Adams, the representative of the United States, the English\ntranslation of the award of the arbitrators, and published his reasons\nfor dissenting in a vigorously worded document which did not meet with\nuniversal commendation. He admitted in substance the liability of\nEngland for the acts of the \"Alabama,\" but not on the grounds on which\nthe decision of the majority was based, and he held England not liable\nin respect of the \"Florida\" and the \"Shenandoah.\"\n\nIn personal appearance Sir Alexander Cockburn was of small stature, but\ngreat dignity of deportment. He was fond of yachting and of sport, and\nwas engaged in writing a series of articles on the \"History of the Chase\nin the Nineteenth Century\" at the time of his death. He was fond, too,\nof society, and was also throughout his life addicted to frivolities not\naltogether consistent with advancement in a learned profession, or with\nthe positions of dignity which he successively occupied. At the same\ntime he had a high sense of what was due to and expected from his\nprofession; and his utterance upon the limitations of advocacy, in his\nspeech at the banquet given in the Middle Temple Hall to M. Berryer, the\ncelebrated French advocate, may be called the classical authority on the\nsubject. Lord Brougham, replying for the guests other than Berryer, had\nspoken of \"the first great duty of an advocate to reckon everything\nsubordinate to the interests of his client.\" The lord chief justice,\nreplying to the toast of \"the judges of England,\" dissented from this\nsweeping statement, saying, amid loud cheers from a distinguished\nassembly of lawyers, \"The arms which an advocate wields he ought to use\nas a warrior, not as an assassin. He ought to uphold the interests of\nhis clients _per fas_, not _per nefas_. He ought to know how to\nreconcile the interests of his clients with the eternal interests of\ntruth and justice\" (_The Times_, 9th of November 1864). Sir Alexander\nCockburn was never married, and the baronetcy became extinct at his\ndeath.\n\n  AUTHORITIES.--_The Times_, 22nd of November 1880; _Law Journal_; _Law\n  Times_; _Solicitors' Journal_, 27th of November 1880; _Law Magazine_,\n  new series, vol. xv. p. 193, 1851; Ashley's _Life of Lord Palmerston_;\n  Nash's _Life of Lord Westbury_; \"Reminiscences of Lord Chief Justice\n  Coleridge,\" by Lord Russell of Killowen, in the _North American\n  Review_, September 1894; _The Greville Memoirs_; Croker's\n  _Correspondence and Diaries_; Justin M'Carthy's _History of Our Own\n  Times_; Serjeant Ballantine's _Experiences; Bench and Bar_, by\n  Serjeant Robinson; Fairchild's _Life of Lord Bramwell_; Manson's\n  _Builders of Our Law_; Burke's _Peerage_, ed. 1879; Foster's\n  _Peerage_, 1880.\n\n\n\n\nCOCKBURN, ALICIA, or ALISON (1713-1794), Scottish poet, authoress of one\nof the most exquisite of Scottish ballads, the \"Flowers of the Forest,\"\nwas the daughter of Robert Rutherfurd of Fairnalee, Selkirkshire, and\nwas born on the 8th of October 1713. There are two versions of this\nsong,--the one by Mrs Cockburn, the other by Jean Elliot (1727-1805) of\nMinto. Both were founded on the remains of an ancient Border ballad. Mrs\nCockburn's--that beginning \"I've seen the smiling of Fortune\nbeguiling\"--is said to have been written before her marriage in 1731,\nthough not published till 1765. Anyhow, it was composed many years\nbefore Jean Elliot's sister verses, written in 1756, beginning, \"I've\nheard them liltin' at our ewe-milkin'.\" Robert Chambers states that the\nballad was written on the occasion of a great commercial disaster which\nruined the fortunes of some Selkirkshire lairds. Later biographers,\nhowever, think it probable that it was written on the departure to\nLondon of a certain John Aikman, between whom and Alison there appears\nto have been an early attachment. In 1731 Alison Rutherfurd was married\nto Patrick Cockburn of Ormiston. After her marriage she knew all the\nintellectual and aristocratic celebrities of her day. In the memorable\nyear 1745 she vented her Whiggism in a squib upon Prince Charlie, and\nnarrowly escaped being taken by the Highland guard as she was driving\nthrough Edinburgh in the family coach of the Keiths of Ravelston, with\nthe parody in her pocket. Mrs Cockburn was an indefatigable\nletter-writer and a composer of parodies, squibs, toasts and\n\"character-sketches\"--then a favourite form of composition--like other\nwits of her day; but the \"Flowers of the Forest\" is the only thing she\nwrote that possesses great literary merit. At her house on Castle-hill,\nand afterwards in Crichton Street, she received many illustrious\nfriends, among whom were Mackenzie, Robertson, Hume, Home, Monboddo, the\nKeiths of Ravelston, the Balcarres family and Lady Anne Barnard, the\nauthoress of \"Auld Robin Gray.\" As a Rutherfurd she was a connexion of\nSir Walter Scott's mother, and was her intimate friend. Lockhart quotes\na letter written by Mrs Cockburn in 1777, describing the conduct of\nlittle Walter Scott, then scarcely six years old, during a visit which\nshe paid to his mother, when the child gave as a reason for his liking\nfor Mrs Cockburn that she was a \"virtuoso like himself.\" Mrs Cockburn\ndied on the 22nd of November 1794.\n\n  See her _Letters and Memorials_..., with notes by T. Craig Brown\n  (1900).\n\n\n\n\nCOCKBURN, SIR GEORGE, Bart. (1772-1853), British admiral, second son of\nSir James Cockburn, Bart., and uncle of Lord Chief Justice Cockburn, was\nborn in London. He entered the navy in his ninth year. After serving on\nthe home station, and in the East Indies and the Mediterranean, he\nassisted, as captain of the \"Minerve\" (38) at the blockade of Leghorn in\n1796, and fought a gallant action with the Spanish frigate \"Sabina\" (40)\nwhich he took. He was present at the battle of Cape St Vincent. In 1809,\nin command of the naval force on shore, he contributed greatly to the\nreduction of Martinique, and signed the capitulation by which that\nisland was handed over to the English; for his services on this occasion\nhe received the thanks of the House of Commons. After service in the\nScheldt and at the defence of Cadiz he was sent in 1811 on an\nunsuccessful mission for the reconciliation of Spain and her American\ncolonies. He was made rear-admiral in 1812, and in 1813-14, as second in\ncommand to Warren, he took a prominent part in the American War,\nespecially in the capture of Washington. Early in 1815 he received the\norder of the Bath, and in the autumn of the same year he carried out, in\nthe \"Northumberland\" (74), the sentence of deportation to St Helena\nwhich had been passed upon Bonaparte. In 1818 he received the Grand\nCross of his order, and was made a lord of the admiralty; and the same\nyear he was returned to parliament for Portsmouth. He was promoted to\nthe rank of vice-admiral in 1819, and to that of admiral in 1837; he\nbecame senior naval lord in 1841, and held office in that capacity till\n1846. From 1827 he was a privy councillor. In 1851 he was made admiral\nof the fleet, and in 1852, a year before his death, inherited the family\nbaronetcy from his elder brother, being himself succeeded by his brother\nWilliam, dean of York, who died in 1858.\n\n  See O'Byrne, _Naval Biography_; W. James, _Naval History_;\n  _Gentleman's Magazine_ for 1853.\n\n\n\n\nCOCKBURN, HENRY THOMAS (1779-1854), Scottish judge, with the style of\nLord Cockburn, was born in Edinburgh on the 26th of October 1779. His\nfather, a keen Tory, was a baron of the Scottish court of exchequer, and\nhis mother was connected by marriage with Lord Melville. He was educated\nat the high school and the university of Edinburgh; and he was a member\nof the famous Speculative Society, to which Sir Walter Scott, Brougham\nand Jeffrey belonged. He entered the faculty of advocates in 1800, and\nattached himself, not to the party of his relatives, who could have\nafforded him most valuable patronage, but to the Whig or Liberal party,\nand that at a time when it held out few inducements to men ambitious of\nsuccess in life. On the accession of Earl Grey's ministry in 1830 he\nbecame solicitor-general for Scotland. In 1834 he was raised to the\nbench, and on taking his seat as a judge in the court of session he\nadopted the title of Lord Cockburn. Cockburn's forensic style was\nremarkable for its clearness, pathos and simplicity; and his\nconversational powers were unrivalled among his contemporaries. The\nextent of his literary ability only became known after he had passed his\nseventieth year, on the publication of his biography of Lord Jeffrey in\n1852, and from the _Memorials of his Time_, which appeared posthumously\nin 1856. He died on the 26th of April 1854, at his mansion of Bonaly,\nnear Edinburgh.\n\n\n\n\nCOCKER, EDWARD (1631-1675), the reputed author of the famous\n_Arithmetick_, the popularity of which has added a phrase (\"according to\nCocker\") to the list of English proverbialisms, was an English engraver,\nwho also taught writing and arithmetic. He is credited with the\nauthorship and execution of some fourteen sets of copy slips, one of\nwhich, _Daniel's Copy-Book, ingraven by Edward Cocker, Philomath_\n(1664), is preserved in the British Museum. Pepys, in his _Diary_, makes\nvery favourable mention of Cocker, who appears to have displayed great\nskill in his art. _Cocker's Arithmetick_, the fifty-second edition of\nwhich appeared in 1748, and which has passed through about 112 editions\nin all, was not published during the lifetime of its reputed author, the\nfirst impression bearing date of 1678. Augustus de Morgan in his\n_Arithmetical Books_ (1847) adduces proofs, which may be held to be\nconclusive, that the work was a forgery of the editor and publisher,\nJohn Hawkins; and there appears to be no doubt that the _Decimal\nArithmetic_ (1684), and the _English Dictionary_ (second edition, 1715),\nissued by Hawkins under Cocker's name, are forgeries also. De Morgan\ncondemns the _Arithmetick_ as a diffuse compilation from older and\nbetter works, and dates \"a very great deterioration in elementary works\non arithmetic\" from the appearance of the book, which owed its celebrity\nfar more to persistent puffing than to its merits. He pertinently\nadds,--\"This same Edward Cocker must have had great reputation, since a\nbad book under his name pushed out the good ones.\"\n\n\n\n\nCOCKERELL, CHARLES ROBERT (1788-1863), British architect, was born in\nLondon on the 28th of April 1788. After a preliminary training in his\nprofession, he went abroad in 1810 and studied the great architectural\nremains of Greece, Italy and Asia Minor. At Aegina, Phigalia and other\nplaces of interest, he conducted excavations on a large scale, enriching\nthe British Museum with many fine fragments, and adding several valuable\nmonographs to the literature of archaeology. Elected in 1829 an\nassociate of the Royal Academy, he became a full member in 1836, and in\n1839 he was appointed professor of architecture. On Sir John Soane's\ndeath in 1837 Cockerell was appointed architect of the Bank of England,\nand carried out the alterations that were judged to be necessary in that\nbuilding. In addition to branch banks at Liverpool and Manchester he\nerected in 1840 the new library at Cambridge, and in 1845 the university\ngalleries at Oxford, as well as the Sun and the Westminster Fire Offices\nin Bartholomew Lane and in the Strand; and he was joint architect of the\nLondon & Westminster Bank, Lothbury, with Sir W. Tite. On the death of\nHenry Lonsdale Elmes in 1847, Cockerell was selected to finish the St\nGeorge's Hall, Liverpool. Cockerell's best conceptions were those\ninspired by classic models; his essays in the Gothic--the college at\nLampeter, for instance, and the chapel at Harrow--are by no means so\nsuccessful. His thorough knowledge of Gothic art, however, can be seen\nfrom his writings, _On the Iconography of Wells Cathedral_, and _On the\nSculptures of Lincoln and Exeter Cathedrals_. In his _Tribute to the\nMemory of Sir Christopher Wren_ (1838) he published an interesting\ncollection of the whole of Wren's works drawn to one scale.\n\n\n\n\nCOCKERILL, WILLIAM (1759-1832), Anglo-French inventor and machinist, was\nborn in England in 1759. He went to Belgium as a simple mechanic, and in\n1799 constructed at Verviers the first wool-carding and wool-spinning\nmachines on the continent. In 1807 he established a large machine\nworkshop at Liege. Orders soon poured in on him from all over Europe,\nand he amassed a large fortune. In 1810 he was granted the rights of\nnaturalization by Napoleon I., and in 1812 handed over the management of\nhis business to his youngest son, JOHN COCKERILL (1790-1840).\n\nThanks to his own energy and ability, aided by the influence of King\nWilliam I. of the Netherlands, John Cockerill largely extended his\nfather's business. King William secured him a site at Seraing, where he\nbuilt large works, including an iron-foundry and blast furnace. The\nconstruction of the Belgian railways in 1834 gave a great impetus to\nthese works, branches of which had already been opened in France,\nGermany and Poland. In 1838 Cockerill met with a carriage accident which\nnearly proved fatal, and the prospect of his loss resulted in the credit\nof the firm being so badly shaken that in 1839 it was compelled to go\ninto liquidation, the liabilities being estimated at 26 millions of\nfrancs, the assets at 18 millions. This reverse, however, was only\ntemporary. John Cockerill had practically concluded negotiations to\nconstruct the Russian government railways, when his constitution,\nundermined by overwork, broke down. He died at Warsaw on the 19th of\nJune 1840. The iron works, among the largest in Europe, are still\ncarried on under the name of La Societe Cockerill at seraing (q.v.).\n\n\n\n\nCOCKERMOUTH, a market town in the Cockermouth parliamentary division of\nCumberland, England, 27 m. S.W. of Carlisle, on the Cockermouth, Keswick\n& Penrith, the London & North Western, and the Maryport & Carlisle\nrailways. Pop. of urban district (1901) 5355. It is pleasantly situated\non the river Derwent, at the junction of the Cocker, outlying hills of\nthe Lake District sheltering it on the north, east and south. The castle\nhas remains of Norman work in the keep, and other ancient portions\n(including the gateway) of later date, but is in part modernized as a\nresidence. The grammar school was founded in 1676. The county industrial\nschool is established in the town. The industries include the\nmanufacture of woollens and confectionery, tanning and engineering, and\nthere is a considerable agricultural trade. There are coal mines in the\nneighbourhood. A statue was erected in 1875 to the sixth earl of Mayo,\nwho represented the borough (abolished in 1885) from 1857 to 1868. There\nis a Roman fort a mile west of the town, at Papcastle.\n\nCockermouth (_Cokermuth_, _Cokermue_) was made the head of the honour or\nbarony of Allerdale when that barony was created and granted to Waltheof\nin the early part of the 12th century. At a later date the honour of\nAllerdale was frequently called the honour of Cockermouth. Waltheof\nprobably built the castle, under the shelter of which the town grew up.\nAlthough it never received any royal charter, the earliest records\nrelating to Cockermouth mention it as a borough. In 1295 it returned two\nmembers to parliament and then not again until 1640. By the\nRepresentation of the People Act of 1867 the representation was reduced\nto one member, and by the Redistribution Act of 1885 it was\ndisfranchised. In 1221 William de Fortibus, earl of Albemarle, was\ngranted a Saturday market, which later in the year was transferred to\nMonday, the day on which it has continued to be held ever since. The\nMichaelmas Fair existed in 1343, and an inquisition dated 1374 mentions\ntwo horse-fairs on Whit-Monday and at Michaelmas. In 1638 Algernon\nPercy, earl of Northumberland, obtained a grant of a fair every\nWednesday from the first week in May till Michaelmas. The chief sources\nof revenue in Norman times were the valuable fisheries and numerous\nmills.\n\n\n\n\nCOCK-FIGHTING, or COCKING, the sport of pitting game-cocks to fight, and\nbreeding and training them for the purpose. The game-fowl is now\nprobably the nearest to the Indian jungle-fowl (_Gallus ferrugineus_),\nfrom which all domestic fowls are believed to be descended. The sport\nwas popular in ancient times in India, China, Persia and other eastern\ncountries, and was introduced into Greece in the time of Themistocles.\nThe latter, while moving with his army against the Persians, observed\ntwo cocks fighting desperately, and, stopping his troops, inspired them\nby calling their attention to the valour and obstinacy of the feathered\nwarriors. In honour of the ensuing victory of the Greeks cock-fights\nwere thenceforth held annually at Athens, at first in a patriotic and\nreligious spirit, but afterwards purely for the love of the sport.\nLucian makes Solon speak of quail-fighting and cocking, but he is\nevidently referring to a time later than that of Themistocles. From\nAthens the sport spread throughout Greece, Asia Minor and Sicily, the\nbest cocks being bred in Alexandria, Delos, Rhodes and Tanagra. For a\nlong time the Romans affected to despise this \"Greek diversion,\" but\nended by adopting it so enthusiastically that Columella (1st century\nA.D.) complained that its devotees often spent their whole patrimony in\nbetting at the pit-side. The cocks were provided with iron spurs\n(_tela_), as in the East, and were often dosed with stimulants to make\nthem fight more savagely.\n\nFrom Rome cocking spread northwards, and, although opposed by the\nChristian church, nevertheless became popular in Great Britain, the Low\nCountries, Italy, Germany, Spain and her colonies. On account of adverse\nlegislation cocking has practically died out everywhere excepting in\nSpain, countries of Spanish origin and the Orient, where it is still\nlegal and extremely popular. It was probably introduced into England by\nthe Romans before Caesar's time. William Fitz-Stephen first speaks of it\nin the time of Henry II. as a sport for school-boys on holidays, and\nparticularly on Shrove Tuesday, the masters themselves directing the\nfights, or mains, from which they derived a material advantage, as the\ndead birds fell to them. It became very popular throughout England and\nWales, as well as in Scotland, where it was introduced in 1681.\nOccasionally the authorities tried to repress it, especially Cromwell,\nwho put an almost complete stop to it for a brief period, but the\nRestoration re-established it among the national-pastimes. Contemporary\napologists do not, in the 17th century, consider its cruelty at all, but\nconcern themselves solely with its justification as a source of\npleasure. \"If Leviathan took his sport in the waters, how much more may\nMan take his sport upon the land?\" From the time of Henry VIII., who\nadded the famous Royal Cock-pit to his palace of Whitehall, cocking was\ncalled the \"royal diversion,\" and the Stuarts, particularly James I. and\nCharles II., were among its most enthusiastic devotees, their example\nbeing followed by the gentry down to the 19th century. Gervase Markham\nin his _Pleasures of Princes_ (1614) wrote \"Of the Choyce, Ordring,\nBreeding and Dyeting of the fighting-Cocke for Battell,\" his quaint\ndirections being of the most explicit nature. When a cock is to be\ntrained for the pit he must be fed \"three or foure daies only with old\nMaunchet (fine white bread) and spring water.\" He is then set to spar\nwith another cock, \"putting a payre of hots upon each of their heeles,\nwhich Hots are soft, bumbasted roules of Leather, covering their spurs,\nso that they cannot hurt each other.... Let them fight and buffet one\nanother a good space.\" After exercise the bird must be put into a\nbasket, covered with hay and set near the fire. \"Then let him sweate,\nfor the nature of this scowring is to bring away his grease, and to\nbreed breath, and strength.\" If not killed in the fight, \"the first\nthing you doe, you shall search his wounds, and as many as you can find\nyou shall with your mouth sucke the blood out of them, then wash them\nwith warm salt water,... give him a roule or two, and so stove him up as\nhot as you can.\"\n\nCocking-mains usually consisted of fights between an agreed number of\npairs of birds, the majority of victories deciding the main; but there\nwere two other varieties that aroused the particular ire of moralists.\nThese were the \"battle royal,\" in which a number of birds were \"set,\"\ni.e. placed in the pit, at the same time, and allowed to remain until\nall but one, the victor, were killed or disabled; and the \"Welsh main,\"\nin which eight pairs were matched, the eight victors being again paired,\nthen four, and finally the last surviving pair. Among London cock-pits\nwere those at Westminster, in Drury Lane, Jewin Street and Birdcage Walk\n(depicted by Hogarth). Over the royal pit at Whitehall presided the\nking's cockmaster. The pits were circular in shape with a matted stage\nabout 20 ft. in diameter and surrounded by a barrier to keep the birds\nfrom falling off. Upon this barrier the first row of the audience\nleaned. Hardly a town in the kingdom was without its cockpit, which\noffered the sporting classes opportunities for betting not as yet\nsufficiently supplied by horse-racing. With the growth of the latter\nsport and the increased facilities for reaching the racing centres,\ncocking gradually declined, especially after parliament passed laws\nagainst it, so that gentlemen risked arrest by attending a main.\n\nAmong the best-known devotees of the sport was a Colonel Mordaunt, who,\nabout 1780, took a number of the best English game-cocks to India. There\nhe found the sport in high favour with the native rulers and his birds\nwere beaten. Perhaps the most famous main in England took place at\nLincoln in 1830 between the birds of Joseph Gilliver, the most\ncelebrated breeder, or \"feeder,\" of his day, and those of the earl of\nDerby. The conditions called for seven birds a side, and the stakes were\n5000 guineas the main and 1000 guineas each match. The main was won by\nGilliver by five matches to two. His grandson was also a breeder, and\nthe blood of his cocks still runs in the best breeds of Great Britain\nand America. Another famous breeder was Dr Bellyse of Audlem, the\nprincipal figure in the great mains fought at Chester during race-week\nat the beginning of the 19th century. His favourite breed was the white\npile, and \"Cheshire piles\" are still much-fancied birds. Others were\nIrish brown-reds, Lancashire black-reds and Staffordshire duns.\n\nIn Wales, as well as some parts of England, cocking-mains took place\nregularly in churchyards, and in many instances even inside the churches\nthemselves. Sundays, wakes and church festivals were favourite occasions\nfor them. The habit of holding mains in schools was common from the 12th\nto about the middle of the 19th century. When cocking was at its height,\nthe pupils of many schools were made a special allowance for purchasing\nfighting-cocks, and parents were expected to contribute to the expenses\nof the annual main on Shrove Tuesday, this money being called\n\"cockpence.\" Cock-fighting was prohibited by law in Great Britain in\n1849.\n\nCocking was early introduced into America, though it was always frowned\nupon in New England. Some of the older states, as Massachusetts, forbade\nit by passing laws against cruelty as early as 1836, and it is now\nexpressly prohibited in Canada and in most states of the Union, or is\nrepressed by general laws for the prevention of cruelty to animals.\n\nCocks are fought at an age of from one to two years. \"Heeling,\" or the\nproper fastening of the spurs, and \"cutting out,\" trimming the wings at\na <DW72>, and cutting the tail down by one-third of its length and\nshortening the hackle and rump feathers, are arts acquired by\nexperience. The comb is cut down close, so as to offer the least\npossible mark for the hostile bird's bill. The cock is then provided\nwith either \"short heels,\" spurs 1-1\/2 in. or less in length, or with\n\"long heels,\" from 2 to 2-1\/2 in. in length. The training of a cock for\nthe pit lasts from ten days to a month or more, during which time the\nbird is subjected to a rigid diet and exercise in running and sparring.\nThe birds may not be touched after being set down in the pit, unless to\nextricate them from the matting. Whenever a bird refuses to fight longer\nhe is set breast to breast with his adversary in the middle of the pit,\nand if he then still refuses to fight he is regarded as defeated. Among\nthe favourite breeds may be mentioned the \"Irish gilders,\" \"Irish\nGrays,\" \"Shawlnecks,\" \"Gordons,\" \"Eslin Red-Quills,\" \"Baltimore\nTopknots,\" \"Dominiques,\" \"War-horses\" and \"Claibornes.\"\n\n  Cock-fighting possesses an extensive literature of its own. See\n  Gervase Markham, _Pleasures of Princes_ (London, 1614); Blain, _Rural\n  Sports_ (London, 1853); \"Game Cocks and Cock-Fighting,\" _Outing_, vol.\n  39; \"A Modest Commendation of Cock-Fighting,\" _Blackwood's Magazine_,\n  vol. 22; \"Cock-Fighting in Schools,\" _Chambers' Magazine_, vol. 65.\n\n\n\n\nCOCK LANE GHOST, a supposed apparition, the vagaries of which attracted\nextraordinary public attention in London during 1762. At a house in Cock\nLane, Smithfield, tenanted by one Parsons, knockings and other noises\nwere said to occur at night varied by the appearance of a luminous\nfigure, alleged to be the ghost of a Mrs Kent who had died in the house\nsome two years before. A thorough investigation revealed that Parsons'\ndaughter, a child of eleven, was the source of the disturbance. The\nobject of the Parsons family seems to have been to accuse the husband of\nthe deceased woman of murdering her, with a view to blackmail. Parsons\nwas prosecuted and condemned to the pillory. Among the crowds who\nvisited the house was Dr Johnson, who was in consequence made the\nobject of a scurrilous attack by the poet Charles Churchill in \"The\nGhost.\"\n\n  See A. Lang, _Cock Lane and Common Sense_ (1894).\n\n\n\n\nCOCKLE, SIR JAMES (1819-1895), English lawyer and mathematician, was\nborn on the 14th of January 1819. He was the second son of James Cockle,\na surgeon, of Great Oakley, Essex. Educated at Charterhouse and Trinity\nCollege, Cambridge, he entered the Middle Temple in 1838, practising as\na special pleader in 1845 and being called in 1846. Joining the midland\ncircuit, he acquired a good practice, and on the recommendation of Chief\nJustice Sir William Erle he was appointed chief justice of Queensland in\n1863. He received the honour of knighthood in 1869, retired from the\nbench, and returned to England in 1879.\n\nCockle is more remembered for his mathematical and scientific\ninvestigations than as a lawyer. Like many young mathematicians he\nattacked the problem of resolving the higher algebraic equations,\nnotwithstanding Abel's proof that a solution by radicles was impossible.\nIn this field Cockle achieved some notable results, amongst which is his\nreproduction of Sir William R. Hamilton's modification of Abel's\ntheorem. Algebraic forms were a favourite object of his studies, and he\ndiscovered and developed the theory of criticoids, or differential\ninvariants; he also made contributions to the theory of differential\nequations. He displayed a keen interest in scientific societies. From\n1863 to 1879 he was president of the Queensland Philosophical Society\n(now incorporated in the Royal Society of Queensland); on his return to\nEngland he became associated with the London Mathematical Society, of\nwhich he was president from 1886 to 1888, and the Royal Astronomical\nSociety, serving as a member of the council from 1888 to 1892. He died\nin London on the 27th of January 1895.\n\n  A volume containing his scientific and mathematical researches made\n  during the years 1864-1877 was presented to the British Museum in 1897\n  by his widow. See the obituary notice by the Rev. R. Harley in _Proc.\n  Roy. Soc._ vol. 59.\n\n\n\n\nCOCKLE, in zoology, a mollusc (_Cardium_) of the class Lamellibranchia\n(q.v.). A very large number of species of _Cardium_ have been\ndistinguished by conchologists. Besides the common species _Cardium\nedule_, two others occur in Britain, but are not sufficiently common to\nbe of commercial importance. One of these is _C. echinatum_, which is\nlarger than the common species, reaching 3 in. in diameter, and\ndistinguished by the presence of spines along the ribs of the shell. The\nother is _C. norvegicum_, which is also somewhat larger than _C. edule_,\nis longer dorso-ventrally than broad, and is only faintly ribbed.\n\nThe two valves of the shell of the common cockle are similar to each\nother, and somewhat circular in outline. The beak or umbo of each valve\nis prominent and rounded, and a number of sharp ridges and furrows\nradiate from the apex to the free edge of the shell, which is crenated.\nThe ligament is external, and the hinge carries cardinal teeth in each\nvalve. The interior of the shell is remarkable for the absence of pearly\nlustre on its interior surface. The colour externally is reddish or\nyellowish. The pallial line, which is the line of attachment of the\nmantle parallel to the edge of the shell, is not indented by a sinus at\nthe posterior end. In the entire animal the posterior end projects\nslightly more than the anterior from the region of the umbones.\n\nThe animal possesses two nearly equal adductor muscles. The edges of the\nmantle are united posteriorly except at the anal and branchial\napertures, which are placed at the ends of two very short siphons or\ntubular prolongations of the mantle; the siphons bear a number of short\ntentacles, and many of these are furnished with eye-spots. The foot is\nvery large and powerful; it can be protruded from the anterior aperture\nbetween the mantle edges, and its outer part is bent sharply forwards\nand terminates in a point. By means of this muscular foot the cockle\nburrows rapidly in the muddy sand of the sea-shore, and it can also when\nit is not buried perform considerable leaps by suddenly bending the\nfoot. The foot has a byssus gland on its posterior surface.\n\nOn either side of the body between the mantle and the foot are two flat\ngills each composed of two lamellae. _Cardium_ belongs to the order of\nLamellibranchia in which the gills present the maximum of complexity,\nthe original vertical filaments of which they are composed being united\nby interfilamentar and interlamellar junctions. In other respects the\nanatomy of the cockle presents no important differences from that of a\ntypical Lamellibranch. The sexes are distinct, and the generative\nopening is on the side of the body above the edge of the inner lamella\nof the inner gill. The eggs are minute, and pass out into the sea-water\nthrough the dorsal or exhalent siphon. The breeding season is April, May\nand June. The larva for a time swims freely in the sea-water, having a\ncirclet of cilia round the body in front of the mouth, forming the\nvelum. The shell is developed on the dorsal surface behind the velum,\nthe foot on the opposite or ventral surface behind the mouth. After a\nfew days, when the mantle bearing the shell valves has developed so much\nas to enclose the whole body, the young cockle sinks to the bottom and\ncommences to follow the habits of the adult. The usual size of the\ncockle in its shell is from 1 to 2 in. in breadth.\n\nThe common cockle is regularly used as food by the poorer classes. It\noccurs in abundance on sandy shores in all estuaries. At the mouth of\nthe Thames the gathering of cockles forms a considerable industry,\nespecially at Leigh. On the coast of Lancashire also the fishery, if it\nmay be so called, is of considerable importance. The cockles are\ngathered by the simple process of raking them from the sand, and they\nare usually boiled and extracted from their shells before being sent to\nmarket. The cockle is liable to the same suspicion as the oyster of\nconveying the contamination of typhoid fever where the shores are\npolluted, but as it is boiled before being eaten it is probably less\ndangerous.     (J. T. C.)\n\n\n\n\nCOCKNEY, a colloquial name applied to Londoners generally, but more\nproperly confined to those born in London, or more strictly still to\nthose born within the sound of the bells of St Mary-le-Bow church. The\norigin of the word has been the subject of many guesses, from that in\nJohn Minsheu's lexicon, _Ductor in linguas_ (1617), which gives the tale\nof the town-bred child who, on hearing a horse neigh, asked whether a\n\"cock neighed\" too, to the confusion of the word with the name of the\nUtopia, the land of Cockaigne (q.v.). The historical examination of the\nvarious uses of \"Cockney,\" by Sir James Murray (see _Academy_, 10th of\nMay 1890, and the _New English Dictionary_, s.v.) clearly shows the true\nderivation. The earliest form of the word is _cokenay_ or _cokeney_,\ni.e. the _ey_ or egg, and _coken_, genitive plural of \"cock,\" \"cocks'\neggs\" being the name given to the small and malformed eggs sometimes\nlaid by young hens, known in German as _Hahneneier_. An early quotation,\nin Langland's _Piers Plowman_, A. vii. 272, gives the combination of\n\"cokeneyes\" and bacon to make a \"collop,\" or dish of eggs and bacon. The\nword then applied to a child overlong nursed by its mother, hence to a\nsimpleton or milksop. Thus in Chaucer, _Reeve's Tale_, the word is used\nwith _daf_, i.e. a fool. The particular application of the name as a\nterm of contempt given by country folk to town-bred people, with their\ndandified airs and ignorance of country ways and country objects, is\neasy. Thus Robert Whittington or Whitinton (_fl._ 1520), speaks of the\n\"cokneys\" in such \"great cytees as London, York, Perusy\" (Perugia),\nshowing the general use of the word. It was not till the beginning of\nthe 17th century that \"cockney\" appears to be confined to the\ninhabitants of London.\n\nThe so-called \"Cockney\" accent or pronunciation has varied in type. In\nthe first part of the 19th century, it was chiefly characterized by the\nsubstitution of a _v_ for a _w_, or vice versa. This has almost entirely\ndisappeared, and the chief consonantal variation which exists is perhaps\nthe change of _th_ to _f_ or _v_, as in \"fing\" for thing, or \"favver\"\nfor father. This and the vowel-sound change from _ou_ to _ah_, as in\n\"abaht\" for \"about,\" are only heard among the uneducated classes, and,\ntogether with other characteristic pronunciations, phrases and words,\nhave been well illustrated in the so-called \"coster\" songs of Albert\nChevalier. The most marked and widely-prevalent change of vowel sound is\nthat of _ei_ for _ai_, so that \"daily\" becomes \"dyly\" and \"may\" becomes\n\"my.\" This is sometimes so marked that it almost amounts to incapacity\nto distinguish the vowels _a_ and _i_, and is almost universal in large\nclasses of the population of London. The name of the \"Cockney School of\nPoetry\" was applied in 1817 to the literary circle of which Leigh Hunt\nwas the principal representative, though Keats also was aimed at. The\narticles in _Blackwood's Magazine_, in which the name appeared, have\ngenerally, but probably wrongly, been attributed to John Gibson\nLockhart.\n\n\n\n\nCOCK-OF-THE-ROCK, the familiar name of the birds of the genus Rupicola\n(subfamily Rupicolinae) of the Cotingas (allied to the Manakins, q.v.),\nfound in the Amazon valley. They are about the size of a pigeon, with\norange- plumage, a pronounced crest, and orange-red flesh, and\nbuild their nests on rock. The skins and feathers are highly valued for\ndecoration.\n\n\n\n\nCOCKPIT, the term originally for an enclosed place in which the sport of\ncock-fighting (q.v.) was carried on. On the site of an old cockpit\nopposite Whitehall in London was a block of buildings used from the 17th\ncentury as offices by the treasury and the privy council, for which the\nold name survived till the early 19th century. The name was given also\nto a theatre in London, built in the early part of the 17th century on\nthe site of Drury Lane theatre. As the place where the wounded in battle\nwere tended, or where the junior officers consorted, the term was also\nformerly applied to a cabin used for these purposes on the lower deck of\na man-of-war.\n\n\n\n\nCOCKROACH[1] (_Blattidae_), a family of orthopterous insects,\ndistinguished by their flattened bodies, long thread-like antennae, and\nshining leathery integuments. Cockroaches are nocturnal creatures,\nsecreting themselves in chinks and crevices about houses, issuing from\ntheir retreats when the lights are extinguished, and moving about with\nextraordinary rapidity in search of food. They are voracious and\nomnivorous, devouring, or at least damaging, whatever comes in their\nway, for all the species emit a disagreeable odour, which they\ncommunicate to whatever article of food or clothing they may touch.\n\nThe common cockroach (_Stilopyga orientalis_) is not indigenous to\nEurope, but is believed to have been introduced from the Levant in the\ncargoes of trading vessels. The wings in the male are shorter than the\nbody; in the female they are rudimentary. The eggs, which are 16 in\nnumber, are deposited in a leathery capsule fixed by a gum-like\nsubstance to the abdomen of the female, and thus carried about till the\nyoung are ready to escape, when the capsule becomes softened by the\nemission of a fluid substance. The larvae are perfectly white at first\nand wingless, although in other respects not unlike their parents, but\nthey are not mature insects until after the sixth casting of the skin.\n\nThe American cockroach (_Periplaneta americana_) is larger than the\nformer, and is not uncommon in European seaports trading with America,\nbeing conveyed in cargoes of grain and other food produce. It is very\nabundant in the Zoological Gardens in London, where it occurs in\nconjunction with a much smaller imported species _Phyllodromia\ngermanica_, which may also be seen in some of the cheaper restaurants.\n\nIn both of these species the females, as well as the males, are winged.\n\nIn addition to these noxious and obtrusive forms, England has a few\nindigenous species belonging to the genus _Ectobia_, which live under\nstones or fallen trees in fields and woods. The largest known species is\nthe drummer of the West Indies (_Blabera gigantea_), so called from the\ntapping noise it makes on wood, sufficient, when joined in by several\nindividuals, as usually happens, to break the slumbers of a household.\nIt is about 2 in. long, with wings 3 in. in expanse, and forms one of\nthe most noisome and injurious of insect pests. Wingless females of many\ntropical species present a close superficial resemblance to woodlice;\nand one interesting apterous form known as _Pseudoglomeris_, from the\nEast Indies, is able to roll up like a millipede.\n\nThe best mode of destroying cockroaches is, when the fire and lights\nare extinguished at night, to lay some treacle on a piece of wood afloat\non a broad basin of water. This proves a temptation to the vermin too\ngreat to be resisted. The chinks and holes from which they issue should\nalso be filled up with unslaked lime, or painted with a mixture of borax\nand heated turpentine.\n\n  See generally Miall and Denny, _The Structure and Life History of the\n  Cockroach_ (1887); G. H. Carpenter, _Insects: their Structure and\n  Life_ (1899); Charles Lester Marlatt, _Household Insects_ (U.S.\n  Department of Agriculture, revised edition, 1902); Leland Ossian\n  Howard, _The Insect Book_ (1902).\n\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n  [1] The word is a corruption of Sp. _cucaracha_. In America it is\n    commonly abbreviated to \"roach.\"\n\n\n\n\nCOCK'S-COMB, in botany, a cultivated form of _Celosia cristata_ (natural\norder Amarantaceae), in which the inflorescence is monstrous, forming a\nflat \"fasciated\" axis bearing numerous small flowers. The plant is a\nlow-growing herbaceous annual, bearing a large, comb-like, dark red,\nscarlet or purplish mass of flowers. Seeds are sown in March or April in\npans of rich, well-drained sandy soil, which are placed in a hot-bed at\n65 deg. to 70 deg. in a moist atmosphere. The seedlings require plenty\nof light, and when large enough to handle are potted off and placed\nclose to the glass in a frame under similar conditions. When the heads\nshow they are shifted into 5-in. pots, which are plunged to their rims\nin ashes or coco-nut fibre refuse, in a hot-bed, as before, close to the\nglass; they are sparingly watered and more air admitted. The soil\nrecommended is a half-rich sandy loam and half-rotten cow and stable\nmanure mixed with a dash of silver sand. The other species of _Celosia_\ncultivated are _C. pyramidalis_, with a pyramidal inflorescence, varying\nin colour in the great number of varieties, and _C. argentea_, with a\ndense white inflorescence. They require a similar cultural treatment to\nthat given for _C. cristata_.\n\n\n\n\nCOCKTON, HENRY (1807-1853), English humorous novelist, was born in\nLondon on the 7th of December 1807. He published a number of volumes,\nbut is best known as the author of _Valentine Vox, the Ventriloquist_\n(1840) and _Sylvester Sound, the Somnambulist_ (1844). He died at Bury\nSt Edmunds on the 26th of June 1853.\n\n\n\n\nCOCKX (or COCK), HIERONYMUS [JEROME] (1510-1570), Flemish painter and\nengraver, was born at Antwerp, and in 1545 was admitted to the Gild of\nSt Luke as a painter. It is as an engraver, however, that he is famous,\na number of portraits and subject-pictures by him, and reproductions of\nFlemish masters, being well known. His brother Matthys (1505-1552) was\nalso a painter.\n\n\n\n\nCOCOA,[1] more properly CACAO, a valuable dietary substance yielded by\nthe seeds of several small trees belonging to the genus _Theobroma_, of\nthe natural order Sterculiaceae. The whole genus, which comprises twelve\nspecies, belongs to the tropical parts of the American continent; and\nalthough the cocoa of commerce is probably the produce of more than one\nspecies, by far the greatest and most valuable portion is obtained from\n_Theobroma Cacao_. The generic name is derived from [Greek: theos] (god)\nand [Greek: broma] (food), and was bestowed by Linnaeus as an indication\nof the high appreciation in which he held the beverage prepared from the\nseeds, which he considered to be a food fit for the gods.\n\nThe common cacao tree is of low stature, seldom exceeding 25 ft. in\nheight, but it is taller in its native forests than it is in cultivated\nplantations. The leaves are large, smooth, and glossy, elliptic-oblong\nand tapering in form, growing principally at the ends of branches, but\nsometimes springing directly from the main trunk. The flowers are small,\nand occur in numerous clusters on the main branches and the trunk, a\nvery marked peculiarity which gives the matured fruit the appearance of\nbeing artificially attached to the tree. Generally only a single fruit\nis matured from each cluster of flowers. When ripe the fruit or \"pod\" is\nelliptical-ovoid in form, from 7 to 10 in. in length and from 3 to 4-1\/2\nin. in diameter. It has a hard, thick, leathery rind of a rich\npurplish-yellow colour, externally rough and marked with ten very\ndistinct longitudinal ribs or elevations. The interior of the fruit has\nfive cells, in each of which is a row of from 5 to 12 seeds embedded in\na soft delicately pink acid pulp. Each fruit thus contains from 20 to 50\nor more seeds, which constitute the raw cacao or \"cacao beans\" of\ncommerce.\n\n[Illustration: Branch of Cocoa Tree, with Fruit in section, much\nreduced.]\n\nThe tree appears to have been originally a native of the coast lands of\nthe Gulf of Mexico and tropical South America as far south as the basin\nof the Amazon; but it can be cultivated in suitable situations within\nthe 25th parallels of latitude. It flourishes best within the 15th\nparallels, at elevations ranging from near the sea-level up to about\n2000 ft. in height. It is now cultivated in Mexico, Honduras, Guatemala,\nNicaragua, Brazil, Peru, Ecuador, New Granada, Venezuela, Surinam,\nGuiana, and in many of the West Indian islands, particularly in\nTrinidad, San Domingo, Grenada, Cuba, Porto Rico and Jamaica. Away from\nAmerica it has been introduced, and is cultivated on a large scale in\nWest Africa, Ceylon and the Dutch East Indies.\n\n_History._--The value of cacao was appreciated in its native country\nbefore the discovery of America by Europeans. The Spaniards found in use\nin Mexico a beverage known by the Aztec name of _chocolath_, from\n_choco_ (cacao) and _lath_ (water). W. H. Prescott records that the\nemperor Montezuma of Mexico was \"exceedingly fond of it ... no less than\n50 jars or pitchers being prepared for his own daily consumption; 2000\nmore were allowed for that of his household.\" Bags of cacao containing a\nspecified number of beans were also a recognized form of currency in the\ncountry. The product was early introduced into Spain, and thence to\nother parts of Europe. The _Public Advertiser_ (London) of June 16,\n1657, contains an announcement that \"In Bishopgate St., in Queen's Head\nAlley, at a Frenchman's house, is an excellent West India drink, called\nchocolate, to be sold, where you may have it ready at any time, and also\nunmade at reasonable rates.\" Chocolate was a very fashionable beverage\nin the early part of the 18th century.\n\n_Cultivated Varieties._--Numerous varieties of the cacao, i.e. of\n_Theobroma Cacao_, are recognized in cultivation. According to Dr P.\nPreuss, who has travelled extensively in the cacao producing countries\nof the world studying this crop, it is impossible to embody in a single\ntable the characteristics of the world's varieties. A separate\nclassification is needed for almost each country. In 1882 the Trinidad\nforms were classified by Sir D. Morris. This table was later revised by\nMr J. H. Hart, and more recently Mr R. H. Lock studied the Ceylon\nvarieties. As the Ceylon cacaos were obtained mainly from Trinidad, and\nas Mr Lock's results agree substantially with those of Sir D. Morris,\nthey serve to illustrate the distinguishing characteristics of the West\nIndian and Ceylon forms. The main divisions are as follows:--\n\n  1. _Criollo._--Pods relatively thin-walled and soft, rough, pointed at\n  apex. The seeds or beans are plump and of pale colour. The ripe pods\n  may be either red (colorado) or yellow (amarillo).\n\n  2. _Forastero._--Pods relatively thick-walled and hard. The seeds vary\n  in colour from pale to deep purple. Various varieties are recognized,\n  such as cundeamor, amelonado, liso, calabacillo, differing in shape,\n  colour and character of beans, &c., and of each of these again there\n  may be a colorado and amarillo sub-variety. Of special interest is\n  calabacillo, a variety with a smooth, small pod, and deep purple\n  beans. It is considered by some to be sufficiently distinct to form a\n  third type equivalent to criollo or forastero. Others again would\n  raise amelonado to the rank of a distinct type. Of the above\n  calabacillo is the hardiest and yields the least valuable beans;\n  criollo is the most delicate and yields beans of the highest value,\n  whilst forastero is intermediate in both respects. In general pale\n   beans are less bitter and more valuable than purple beans.\n  Both, however, may occur in the same pod.\n\n_Alligator_, or _lagarto cacao_, is the common name of a variety\ncultivated in Nicaragua, Guatemala, &c. Its pods are distinctly\nfive-angled and beset with irregular, warty protuberances. Some regard\nit as a distinct species, _T. pentagona_, but others only as a variety\nof _T. Cacao_. Its produce is of high value.\n\n_T. bicolor_, indigenous to Central America, is another species of some\ninterest. It bears small, hard woody pods about 6 in. long and 3 in. in\ndiameter, with curious surface markings. The beans possess a fetid odour\nand a bitter flavour and are known as \"tiger cacao.\" It is not likely to\nbecome of great commercial importance, although consumed locally where\nfound. \"_Cacao bianco_\" and \"_pataste_\" are other names for this\nspecies.\n\n_Cultivation and Preparation._--Cacao requires for its successful\ncultivation a deep, well-watered and yet well-drained soil, shelter from\nstrong winds, and a thoroughly tropical climate, with a mean annual\ntemperature of about 80 deg. F., a rainfall of from 50 to 100 or more in.,\nand freedom from long droughts. Young plants are grown from seed, which\nmay either be sown directly in the positions the future trees are to\noccupy, varying according to local circumstances from 6 to 25 ft. apart\nin all directions, or raised in nurseries and transplanted later. The\nlatter course is desirable when it is necessary to water and otherwise\ntend the seedlings. However raised, the young plants require to be\nshaded, and this is usually done by planting bananas, cassava or other\nuseful crops between the rows of cacao. In some countries, but not in\nall, permanent shade trees are planted amongst the cacao. Various\nleguminous trees are commonly used, e.g. the coral tree (_Erythrina_\nspp.) sometimes known as _bois immortel_ and _madre del cacao_ or mother\nof cocoa, _Albizzia Lebbek_, _Pithecolobium Saman_, &c. The various\nrubber trees have been employed with success. Wind belts are also\nnecessary in exposed situations.\n\nCacao comes into bearing when about five years old, the small pink\nflowers and the succeeding large pods being borne directly on the trunk\nand main branches. The pods are carefully picked when ripe, broken open,\nand the slimy mass of contained seeds and their enveloping mucilaginous\npulp extracted. The \"beans\" are next fermented or \"sweated,\" often in\nspecial houses constructed for the purpose, or by placing them in heaps\nand covering with leaves or earth, or in baskets, barrels, &c., lined\nwith banana leaves. During fermentation the beans should be stirred once\ndaily or oftener. The time of fermentation varies from one to twelve or\neven more days. Pale- beans usually require less time than the\ndeep purple and bitter kinds. The method adopted also considerably\nmodifies the time required. The process of fermenting destroys the\nmucilage; the seeds lose to some degree their bitter flavour and their\ncolour also changes: the pale criollo seeds, for example, developing a\ncinnamon-brown colour. The \"fracture\" of the beans also\ncharacteristically alters. Fermentation is not universally practised;\nthe purple colour and bitter taste of unfermented cacao being wanted in\nsome markets.\n\nAfter the fermentation is completed the beans may or may not be washed,\nopinion as to the desirability of this process varying in different\ncountries. In any case, however, they have to be dried and cured. When\nclimatic conditions are favourable this is commonly done by spreading\nthe beans in thin layers on barbecues, or stone drying floors, or\notherwise exposing them to the sun. Sliding roofs or other means of\nrapidly affording shelter are desirable in case of showers, excessive\nheat, and also for protection at night. Artificial drying is now often\nresorted to and various patterns of drying houses are in use.\n\nThe appearance of the beans may often be improved by \"claying,\" a very\nslight coating of red earth or clay being added. Polishing the beans\nalso gives them a brighter appearance, removes mildew, and remnants of\ndried mucilage, &c. This may be done by \"dancing the cacao,\" i.e.\ntreading a heap with the bare feet, or by the use of special polishing\nmachines. The cacao is now ready for shipment, and is usually packed in\nbags. Hamburg is the chief port in the world for cacao. Until quite\nrecently, however, this position was held by Havre, which is now second\nin Europe. New York imports about the same amount as Havre. London\nfollows next in importance.\n\n_Cacao-producing Countries._--In the following table the production in\ntons (of 1000 kilos = 2205 lb) of the principal producing countries,\narranged under continents, is given for 1905 and 1901. During this\nperiod the total world's production has increased by about 40%, as\nindicated in the summary below. Study of the table will show where the\nincrease has taken place, but attention is directed especially to the\nrapid development in West Africa.\n\n    _America._\n                                    1905 (tons).  1901 (tons).\n  Ecuador                              21,128      22,896\n  Brazil                               21,091      18,324\n  Trinidad                             20,018      11,943\n  San Domingo                          12,785       6,850\n  Venezuela                            11,700       7,860\n  Grenada                               5,456       4,865\n  Cuba and Porto Rico                   3,000       1,750\n  Haiti                                 2,343       1,950\n  Surinam                               1,612       3,163\n  Jamaica                               1,484       1,350\n  French West Indies                    1,200         825\n  St. Lucia                               700         765\n  Dominica                                597         ..\n                                      -------     -------\n  Total, America                      103,114      82,541\n\n\n    _Africa._\n                                    1905 (tons).  1901 (tons).\n  San Thome                            25,379      16,983\n  Gold Coast and Lagos                  5,666         997\n  Cameroons                             1,185         528\n  Congo Free State                        195         ..\n                                      -------     -------\n  Total, Africa                        32,425      18,508\n\n\n    _Asia._\n                                    1905 (tons).  1901 (tons).\n  Ceylon                                 3543        2697\n  Dutch East Indies                      1492        1277\n                                        -----       -----\n  Total, Asia                            5035        3974\n  Other countries                         800         700\n\n\n    _World's Production._\n                                    1905 (tons).  1901 (tons).\n  Tropical America and West Indies    103,114      82,541\n  West Africa                          32,425      18,508\n  Asia                                  5,035       3,974\n  Other countries                         800         700\n                                      -------     -------\n  Total                               141,374     105,723\n\n_Composition._--The relative weights of the various parts of a whole\ncacao pod are given thus by Prof. J. B. Harrison for British Guiana\nspecimens:--\n\n                                    Calabacillo.  Forastero.\n  Husk                                  80.59       89.87\n  Pulp                                   7.61        4.23\n  Cuticles of the beans                  1.77        0.50\n  Kernels of the beans                  10.03        5.40\n                                      -------     -------\n                                       100.00      100.00\n\nThe husk is composed mainly of water and cellulose woody tissue, with\ntheir usual mineral constituents, and has a low manurial value. The pulp\ncontains sugars which become converted into alcohol during fermentation.\nFibrous elements and water compose about six-tenths of the cuticles,\nwhich also contain approximately: albuminoids (6%), alkaloids (2%), fat\n(2%), sugars (6%), starch (7%), colouring matter (4%), tartaric acid\n(3%) and small quantities of various mineral constituents. The average\ncomposition of the kernels, according to Payen, is:--\n\n                                Per cent.\n  Fat (cacao butter)               50\n  Starch                           10\n  Albuminoids                      20\n  Water                            12\n  Cellulose                         2\n  Mineral matter                    4\n  Theobromine                       2\n  Colouring matter (cacao-red)   trace\n                                 -------\n                                  100.00\n\n_Manufacture of Cocoa and Chocolate._--The beans are cleaned and sorted\nto remove foreign bodies of all kinds and also graded into sizes to\nsecure uniformity in roasting. The latter process is carried out in\nrotating iron drums in which the beans are heated to a temperature of\nabout 260 deg. to 280 deg. F., and results in developing the aroma,\npartially converting the starch into dextrin, and eliminating bitter\nconstituents. The beans also dry and their shells become crisp. In the\nnext process the beans are gently crushed and winnowed, whereby the\nlight shells are removed, and after removal by sifting of the \"germs\"\nthe beans are left in the form of the irregular cocoa-nibs occasionally\nseen in shops. Cocoa-nibs may be infused with water and drunk, but for\nmost people the beverage is too rich, containing the whole of the\ncacao-fat or cacao-butter. This fat is extracted from the carefully\nground nibs by employing great hydraulic pressure in heated presses. The\nfat exudes and solidifies. When fresh it is yellowish-white, but becomes\nquite white on keeping. It is very valuable for pharmaceutical purposes\nand is a constituent of many pomades. With care it can be kept for a\nlong time without going rancid.\n\nAfter the extraction of the fat the resulting mass is ground to a fine\npowder when it is ready for use in the ordinary way. Many preparations\non the market are of course not pure cocoa but contain admixtures of\nvarious starchy and other bodies.\n\nThe shells of the beans separated by the winnowing process contain\ntheobromine, and their infusion with water is sometimes used as a\nsubstitute for coffee, under the name \"miserabile.\" More recently they\nhave been put to good account as a cattle food.\n\nIn the preparation of chocolate the preliminary processes of cleaning,\nsorting, roasting and removing the shells, and grinding the nibs, are\nfollowed as for cocoa. The fat, however, is not extracted, but sugar,\nand sometimes other materials also, are added to the ground pasty mass,\ntogether with suitable flavouring materials, as for example vanilla. The\ngreatest care is taken in the process and elaborate grinding and mixing\nmachinery employed. The final result is a semi-liquid mass which is\nmoulded into the familiar tablets or other forms in which chocolate\ncomes on the market.\n\nCocoa as a beverage has a similar action to tea and coffee, inasmuch as\nthe physiological properties of all three are due to the alkaloids and\nvolatile oils they contain. Tea and coffee both contain the alkaloid\ncaffeine, whilst cocoa contains theobromine. In tea and coffee, however,\nwe only drink an infusion of the leaves or seeds, whilst in cocoa the\nwhole material is taken in a state of very fine suspension, and as the\npreceding analysis indicates, the cocoa bean, even with the fat\nextracted, is of high nutritive value.\n\n_Cacao-consuming Countries._--The principal cacao-consuming countries\nare indicated below, which gives the imports into the countries named\nfor 1905. These figures, as also those on production, are taken from\n_Der Gordian_.\n\n                             Tons (1000 kilos).\n  United States of America       34,958\n  Germany                        29,663\n  France                         21,748\n  United Kingdom                 21,106\n  Holland                        19,295\n  Spain                           6,102\n  Switzerland                     5,218\n  Belgium                         3,019\n  Austria Hungary                 2,668\n  Russia                          2,230\n  Denmark                         1,125\n  Italy                             971\n  Sweden                            900\n  Canada                            700\n  Australia                         600\n  Norway, Portugal and Finland      692\n                                -------\n                         Total  150,995\n\nDuring recent years the use of cocoa has increased rapidly in some\ncountries. The following table gives the increase per cent in\nconsumption in 1905 over that in 1901 for the five chief consumers:--\n\n                            Per cent.\n  United States                70\n  Germany                      61\n  France                       21\n  United Kingdom               11\n  Holland                      34\n\n     (A. B. R.; W. G. F.)\n\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n  [1] As a matter of nomenclature it is unfortunate that the corrupt\n    form \"cocoa,\" from a confusion with the coco-nut (q.v.), has become\n    stereotyped. When introduced early in the 18th century it was as a\n    trisyllable _co-co-a_, a mispronunciation of _cacao_ or _cocoa_, the\n    Spanish adaptation from the Mexican _cacauatl_.\n\n\n\n\nCOCO DE MER, or DOUBLE COCO-NUT, a palm, _Lodoicea Sechellarum_, which\nis a native of the Seychelles Islands. The flowers are borne in enormous\nfleshy spadices, the male and female on distinct plants. The fruits,\nwhich are among the largest known, take ten years to ripen; they have a\nfleshy and fibrous envelope surrounding a hard nut-like portion which is\ngenerally two-lobed, suggesting a large double coco-nut. The contents of\nthe nut are edible as in the coco-nut. The empty fruits (after\ngermination of the seed) are found floating in the Indian Ocean, and\nwere known long before the palm was discovered, giving rise to various\nstories as to their origin.\n\n\n\n\nCOCOMA, or CUCAMAS, a tribe of South American Indians living on the\nMaranon and lower Huallaga rivers, Peru. In 1681, at the time of the\nJesuit missionaries' first visit, they had the custom of eating their\ndead and grinding the bones to a powder, which was mixed with a\nfermented liquor and drunk. When expostulated with by the Jesuits they\nsaid \"it was better to be inside a friend than to be swallowed up by the\ncold earth.\" They are a provident, hard-working people, partly\nChristianized, and bolder than most of the civilized Indians. Their\nlanguages show affinity to the Tupi-Guarani stock.\n\n\n\n\nCOCO-NUT[1] PALM (_Cocos nucifera_), a very beautiful and lofty\npalm-tree, growing to a height of from 60 to 100 ft., with a cylindrical\nstem which attains a thickness of 2 ft. The tree terminates in a crown\nof graceful waving pinnate leaves. The leaf, which may attain to 20 ft.\nin length, consists of a strong mid-rib, whence numerous long acute\nleaflets spring, giving the whole the appearance of a gigantic feather.\nThe flowers are arranged in branching spikes 5 or 6 ft. long, enclosed\nin a tough spathe, and the fruits mature in bunches of from 10 to 20.\nThe fruits when mature are oblong, and triangular in cross section,\nmeasuring from 12 to 18 in. in length and 6 to 8 in. in diameter. The\nfruit consists of a thick external husk or rind of a fibrous structure,\nwithin which is the ordinary coco-nut of commerce. The nut has a very\nhard, woody shell, enclosing the nucleus or kernel, the true seed,\nwithin which again is a milky liquid called coco-nut milk. The palm is\nso widely disseminated throughout tropical countries that it is\nimpossible to distinguish its original habitat. It flourishes with equal\nvigour on the coast of the East Indies, throughout the tropical islands\nof the Pacific, and in the West Indies and tropical America. It,\nhowever, attains its greatest luxuriance and vigour on the sea shore,\nand it is most at home in the innumerable small islands of the Pacific\nseas, of the vegetation of which it is eminently characteristic. Its\nwide distribution, and its existence in even the smallest coral islets\nof the Pacific, are due to the character of the fruit, which is\neminently adapted for distribution by sea. The fibrous husk renders the\nfruit light and the leathery skin prevents water-logging. The seed will\ngerminate readily on the sea-shore, the seedling growing out through the\nsoft germ-pore on the upper end of the hard nut. The fruits dropping\ninto the sea from trees growing on any shores would be carried by tides\nand currents to be cast up and to vegetate on distant coasts.\n\nThe coco-nut palm, being the most useful of its entire tribe to the\nnatives of the regions in which it grows, and furnishing many valuable\nand important commercial products, is the subject of careful cultivation\nin many countries. On the Malabar and Coromandel coasts of India the\ntrees grow in vast numbers; and in Ceylon, which is peculiarly well\nsuited for their cultivation, it is estimated that twenty millions of\nthe trees flourish. The wealth of a native in Ceylon is estimated by his\nproperty in coco-nut trees, and Sir J. Emerson Tennent noted a law case\nin a district court in which the subject in dispute was a claim to the\n2520th part of ten of the precious palms. The cultivation of coco-nut\nplantations in Ceylon was thus described by Sir J. E. Tennent. \"The\nfirst operation in coco-nut planting is the formation of a nursery, for\nwhich purpose the ripe nuts are placed in squares containing about 400\neach; these are covered an inch deep with sand and seaweed or soft mud\nfrom the beach, and watered daily till they germinate. The nuts put down\nin April are sufficiently grown to be planted out before the rains of\nSeptember, and they are then set out in holes 3 ft. deep and 20 to 30\nft. apart.... Before putting in the young plant it is customary to bed\nthe roots with soft mud and seaweed, and for the first two years they\nmust be watered and protected from the glare of the sun under shades\nmade of the plaited fronds of the coco-nut palm, or the fan-like leaves\nof the palmyra.\" The palm begins to bear fruit from the fifth to the\nseventh year of its age, each stock carrying from 5 to 30 nuts, the tree\nmaturing on an average 60 nuts yearly.\n\nThe uses to which the various parts of the coco-nut palm are applied in\nthe regions of their growth are almost endless. The nuts supply no\ninconsiderable proportion of the food of the natives, and the milky\njuice enclosed within them forms a pleasant and refreshing drink. The\njuice drawn from the unexpanded flower spathes forms \"toddy,\" which may\nbe boiled down to sugar, or it is allowed to ferment and is distilled,\nwhen it yields a spirit which, in common with a like product from other\nsources, is known as \"arrack.\" As in other palms, the young bud cut out\nof the top of the tree forms an esculent vegetable, \"palm cabbage.\" The\ntrunk yields a timber (known in European commerce as porcupine wood)\nwhich is used for building, furniture, firewood, &c.; the leaves are\nplaited into cajan fans and baskets, and used for thatching the roofs of\nhouses; the shell of the nut is employed as a water-vessel; and the\nexternal husk or rind yields the coir fibre, with which are fabricated\nropes, cordage, brushes, &c. The coco-nut palm also furnishes very\nimportant articles of external commerce, of which the principal is\ncoco-nut oil. It is obtained by pressure or boiling from the kernels,\nwhich are first broken up into small pieces and dried in the sun, when\nthey are known as copperah or _copra_. It is estimated that 1000\nfull-sized nuts will yield upwards of 500 lb. of copra, from which 25\ngallons of oil should be obtained. The oil is a white solid substance at\nordinary temperatures, with a peculiar, rather disagreeable odour, from\nthe volatile fatty acids it contains, and a mild taste. Under pressure\nit separates into a liquid and a solid portion, the latter,\ncoco-stearin, being extensively used in the manufacture of candles.\nCoco-nut oil is also used in the manufacture of marine soap, which forms\na lather with sea-water. Coir is also an important article of commerce,\nbeing in large demand for the manufacture of coarse brushes, door mats\nand woven coir-matting for lobbies and passages. A considerable quantity\nof fresh nuts is imported, chiefly from the West Indies, into Britain\nand other countries; they are familiar as the reward of the popular\nEnglish amusement of \"throwing at the coco-nuts\"; and the contents are\neither eaten raw or used as material for cakes, &c., or sweetmeats\n(\"coker-nut\").\n\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n  [1] The spelling \"cocoa-nut,\" which introduces a confusion with cocoa\n    (q.v.) or cacao, is a corruption of the original Portuguese form,\n    dating from (and largely due to) Johnson's _Dictionary_. The spelling\n    \"coker-nut,\" introduced to avoid the same ambiguity, is common in\n    England.\n\n\n\n\nCOCYTUS (mod. _Vuvo_), a tributary of the Acheron, a river of Thesprotia\n(mod. _pashalik_ of Iannina), which flows into the Ionian Sea about 20\nm. N. of the Gulf of Arta. The name is also applied in Greek mythology\nto a tributary of the Acheron or of the Styx, a river in Hades. The\netymology suggested is from [Greek: kokuein], to wail, in allusion to\nthe cries of the dead. Virgil describes it as the river which surrounds\nthe underworld (_Aen._ vi. 132).\n\n\n\n\nCOD, the name given to the typical fish of the family _Gadidae_, of the\nTeleostean suborder Anacanthini, the position of which has much varied\nin our classifications. Having no spines to their fins, the Gadids used,\nin Cuvierian days, to be associated with the herrings, Salmonids, pike,\n&c., in the artificially-conceived order of Malacopterygians, or\nsoft-finned bony fishes. But, on the ground of their air-bladder being\nclosed, or deprived of a pneumatic duct communicating with the digestive\ncanal, such as is characteristic of the Malacopterygians, they were\nremoved from them and placed with the flat-fishes, or _Pleuronectidae_,\nin a suborder Anacanthini, regarded as intermediate in position between\nthe Acanthopterygians, or spiny-finned fishes, and the Malacopterygians.\nIt has, however, been shown that the flat-fishes bear no relationship to\nthe Gadids, but are most nearly akin to the John Dories (see DORY).\n\nThe suborder Anacanthini is, nevertheless, maintained for the\n_Muraenolepididae_ Gadids and two related families, _Macruridae_ and\n_Muraenolepididae_, and may be thus defined:--Air-bladder without open\nduct. Parietal bones separated by the supra-occipital; prootic and\nexoccipital separated by the enlarged opisthotic. Pectoral arch\nsuspended from the skull: no mesocoracoid arch. Ventral fins below or in\nfront of the pectorals, the pelvic bones posterior to the clavicular\nsymphysis and only loosely attached to it by ligament. Fins without\nspines; caudal fin, if present, without expanded hypural, perfectly\nsymmetrical, and supported by the neural and haemal spines of the\nposterior vertebrae, and by basal bones similar to those supporting the\ndorsal and anal rays. This type of caudal fin must be regarded as\nsecondary, the _Gadidae_ being, no doubt, derived from fishes in which\nthe homocercal fin of the typical Teleostean had been lost.\n\nAbout 120 species of Gadids are distinguished, mostly marine, many being\nadapted to life at great depths; all are carnivorous. They inhabit\nchiefly the northern seas, but many abyssal forms occur between the\ntropics and in the southern parts of the Atlantic and Pacific. They are\nrepresented in British waters by eight genera, and about twenty species,\nonly one of which, the burbot (_Lota vulgaris_), is an inhabitant of\nfresh waters. Several of the marine species are of first-rate economic\nimportance. The genus _Gadus_ is characterized by having three dorsal\nand two anal fins, and a truncated or notched caudal fin. In the cod and\nhaddock the base of the first anal fin is not, or but slightly, longer\nthan that of the second dorsal fin; in the whiting, pout, coal-fish,\npollack, hake, ling and burbot, the former is considerably longer than\nthe latter.\n\nThe cod, _Gadus morrhua_, possesses, in common with the other members of\nthe genus, three dorsal and two anal fins, and a single barbel, at least\nhalf as long as the eye, at the chin. It is a widely-distributed\nspecies, being found throughout the northern and temperate seas of\nEurope, Asia and America, extending as far south as Gibraltar, but not\nentering the Mediterranean, and inhabits water from 25 to 50 fathoms\ndeep, where it always feeds close to the bottom. It is exceedingly\nvoracious, feeding on the smaller denizens of the ocean--fish,\ncrustaceans, worms and molluscs, and greedily taking almost any bait the\nfisherman chooses to employ. The cod spawns in February, and is\nexceedingly prolific, the roe of a single female having been known to\ncontain upwards of eight millions of ova, and to form more than half the\nweight of the entire fish. Only a small proportion of these get\nfertilized, and still fewer ever emerge from the egg. The number of cod\nis still further reduced by the trade carried on in roe, large\nquantities of which are used in France as ground-bait in the sardine\nfishery, while it also forms an article of human food. The young are\nabout an inch in length by the end of spring, but are not fit for the\nmarket till the second year, and it has been stated that they do not\nreach maturity, as shown by the power of reproduction, till the end of\ntheir third year. They usually measure about 3 ft. in length, and weigh\nfrom 12 to 20 lb, but specimens have been taken from 50 to 70 lb in\nweight.\n\nAs an article of food the cod-fish is in greatest perfection during the\nthree months preceding Christmas. It is caught on all parts of the\nBritish and Irish coasts, but the Dogger Bank, and Rockall, off the\nOuter Hebrides, have been specially noted for their cod-fisheries. The\nfishery is also carried on along the coast of Norfolk and Suffolk, where\ngreat quantities of the fish are caught with hook and line, and conveyed\nto market alive in \"well-boats\" specially built for this traffic. Such\nboats have been in use since the beginning of the 18th century. The most\nimportant cod-fishery in the world is that which has been prosecuted for\ncenturies on the Newfoundland banks, where it is not uncommon for a\nsingle fisherman to take over 500 of these fish in ten or eleven hours.\nThese, salted and dried, are exported to all parts of the world, and\nform, when taken in connexion with the enormous quantity of fresh cod\nconsumed, a valuable addition to the food resources of the human race.\n\nThe air-bladder of this fish furnishes isinglass, little, if at all,\ninferior to that obtained from the sturgeon, while from the liver is\nobtained cod-liver oil, largely used in medicine as a remedy in\nscrofulous complaints and pulmonary consumption (see Cod-liver Oil).\n\"The Norwegians,\" says Cuvier, \"give cod-heads with marine plants to\ntheir cows for the purpose of producing a greater proportion of milk.\nThe vertebrae, the ribs, and the bones in general, are given to their\ncattle by the Icelanders, and by the Kamtchatdales to their dogs. These\nsame parts, properly dried, are also employed as fuel in the desolate\nsteppes of the Icy Sea.\"\n\nAt Port Logan in Wigtonshire cod-fish are kept in a large reservoir,\nscooped out of the solid rock by the action of the sea, egress from\nwhich is prevented by a barrier of stones, which does not prevent the\nfree access of the water. These cod are fed chiefly on mussels, and when\nthe keeper approaches to feed them they may be seen rising to the\nsurface in hundreds and eagerly seeking the edge. They have become\ncomparatively tame and familiar. Frank Buckland, who visited the place,\nstates that after a little while they allowed him to take hold of them,\nscratch them on the back, and play with them in various ways. Their\nflavour is considered superior to that of the cod taken in the open sea.\n     (G. A. B.)\n\n\n\n\nCODA (Ital. for \"tail\"; from the Lat. _cauda_), in music, a term for a\npassage which brings a movement or a separate piece to a conclusion.\nThis developed from the simple chords of a cadence into an elaborate and\nindependent form. In a series of variations on a theme or in a\ncomposition with a fixed order of subjects, the \"coda\" is a passage\nsufficiently contrasted with the conclusions of the separate variations\nor subjects, added to form a complete conclusion to the whole. Beethoven\nraised the \"coda\" to a feature of the highest importance.\n\n\n\n\nCODE (Lat. _codex_), the term for a complete and systematic body of law,\nor a complete and exclusive statement of some portion of the law; and so\nby analogy for any system of rules or doctrine; also for an arrangement\nin telegraphy, signalling, &c., by which communications may be made\naccording to rules adopted for brevity or secrecy.\n\nIn jurisprudence the question of the reduction of laws to written codes,\nrepresenting a complete and readily accessible system, is a matter of\ngreat historical and practical interest. Many collections of laws,\nhowever, which are commonly known as codes,[1] would not correspond to\nthe definition given above. The Code of Justinian (see JUSTINIAN I.;\nROMAN LAW), the most celebrated of all, is not in itself a complete and\nexclusive system of law. It is a collection of imperial constitutions,\njust as the Pandects are a collection of the opinions of jurisconsults.\nThe Code and the Pandects together being, as Austin says, \"digests of\nRoman law in force at the time of their conception,\" would, if properly\narranged, constitute a code. Codification in this sense is merely a\nquestion of the _form_ of the laws, and has nothing to do with their\ngoodness or badness from an ethical or political point of view.\nSometimes codification only means the changing of unwritten into written\nlaw; in the stricter sense it means the changing of unwritten or\nbadly-written law into law well written.\n\nThe same causes which made collections of laws necessary in the time of\nJustinian have led to similar undertakings among modern peoples. The\nactual condition of laws until the period when they are consciously\nremodelled is one of confusion, contradiction, repetition and disorder;\nand to these evils the progress of society adds the burden of\nperpetually increasing legislation. Some attempt must be made to\nsimplify the task of learning the laws by improving their expression and\narrangement. This is by no means an easy task in any country, but in\nEngland it is surrounded with peculiar difficulties. The independent\ncharacter of English law has prevented an attempt to do what has already\nbeen done for other systems which have the basis of the Roman law to\nfall back upon.\n\nThe most celebrated modern code is the French. The necessity of a code\nin France was mainly caused by the immense number of separate systems of\njurisprudence existing in that country before 1789, justifying\nVoltaire's sarcasm that a traveller in France had to change laws about\nas often as he changed horses. At first published under the title of\n_Code Civil des Francais_, it was afterwards entitled the _Code\nNapoleon_ (q.v.)--the emperor Napoleon wishing to attach his name to a\nwork which he regarded as the greatest glory of his reign. The code, it\nhas been said, is the product of Roman and customary law, together with\nthe ordinances of the kings and the laws of the Revolution. In form it\nhas passed through several changes caused by the political vicissitudes\nof the country, and it has of course suffered from time to time\nimportant alterations in substance, but it still remains virtually the\nsame in principle as it left the hands of its framers. The code has\nproduced a vast number of commentaries, among which may be named those\nof A. Duranton, R. T. Troplong and J. C. F. Demolombe. The remaining\nFrench codes are the _Code de procedure civile_, the _Code de commerce_,\nthe _Code d'instruction criminelle_ and the _Code penal_. The merits of\nthe French code have entered into the discussion on the general question\nof codification. Austin agrees with Savigny in condemning the ignorance\nand haste with which it was compiled. \"It contains,\" says Austin, \"no\ndefinitions of technical terms (even the most leading), no exposition of\nthe _rationale_ of distinctions (even the most leading), no exposition\nof the broad principles and rules to which the narrower provisions\nexpressed in the code are subordinate; hence its fallacious brevity.\"\nCodes modelled on the French code have, however, taken firm root in most\nof the countries of continental Europe and in other parts of the world\nas well, such as Latin America and several of the British colonies.\n\nThe Prussian code (_Code Frederic_) was published by Frederick the Great\nin 1751. It was intended to take the place of \"Roman, common Saxon and\nother foreign subsidiary laws and statutes,\" the provincial laws\nremaining in force as before. One of the objects of the king was to\ndestroy the power of the advocates, whom he hoped to render useless.\nThis, with other systems of law existing in Germany, has been replaced\nby the Civil Code of 1900 (see GERMANY).\n\nThe object of all these codes has been to frame a common system to take\nthe place of several systems of law, rather than to restate in an exact\nand exhaustive form the whole laws of a nation, which is the problem of\nEnglish codification. The French and Prussian codes, although they have\nbeen of great service in simplifying the law, have failed to prevent\noutside themselves that accumulation of judiciary and statute law which\nin England has been the chief motive for codification. A more exact\nparallel to the English problem may be found in the _Code of the State\nof New York_. The revised constitution of the state, as adopted in 1846,\n\"ordered the appointment of two commissions, one to reduce into a\nwritten and a systematic code the whole body of the law of the state,\nand the other to revise, reform, simplify and abridge the rules and\npractice, pleadings, &c., of the courts of record.\" By an act of 1847,\nthe state legislature declared that the body of substantive law should\nbe contained in three codes--the Political, the Civil and the Penal. The\nworks of both commissions, completed in 1865, filled six volumes,\ncontaining the Code of Civil Procedure (including the law of evidence),\nthe Book of Forms, the Code of Criminal Procedure, the Political Code,\nthe Penal Code and the Civil Code. In the introduction to the Civil Code\nit was claimed that in many departments of the law the codes \"provided\nfor every possible case, so that when a new case arises it is better\nthat it should be provided for by new legislation.\" The New York code\nwas defective in the important points of definition and arrangement. It\nformed the basis, however, of the present codes of civil and criminal\nprocedure in the state of New York. Much interest has attached to the\nPenal Code drawn up by Edward Livingston (q.v.) for the state of\nLouisiana. The system consists of a Code of Crime and Punishments, a\nCode of Procedure, a Code of Evidence, a Code of Reform and Prison\nDiscipline, and a Book of Definitions. \"Though the state for which the\ncodes were prepared,\" said Chief Justice Chase, \"neglected to avail\nitself of the labours assigned and solicited by itself, they have\nproved, together with their introductions, a treasure of suggestions to\nwhich many states are indebted for useful legislation.\" Most of the\nother states in the United States have codes stating the law of pleading\nin civil actions, and such states are often described as code states to\ndistinguish them from those adhering to the older forms of action,\ndivided between those at law and those at equity. A few states have\ngeneral codes of political and civil rights. The general drift of\nlegislation and of public sentiment in the United States is towards the\nextension of the principle of codification, but the contrary view has\nbeen ably maintained (see J. C. Carter, _Provinces of the Written and\nthe Unwritten Law_, New York, 1889).\n\nSince the time of Bentham, the codification of the law of England has\nbeen the dream of the most enlightened jurists and statesmen. In the\ninterval between Bentham and our own time there has been an immense\nadvance in the scientific study of law, but it may be doubted whether\nthe problem of codification is at all nearer solution. Interest has\nmainly been directed to the historical side of legal science, to the\nphenomena of the evolution of laws as part of the development of\nsociety, and from this point of view the question of remodelling the law\nis one of minor interest. To Bentham the problem presented itself in the\nsimplest and most direct form possible. What he proposed to do was to\nset forth a body of laws, clearly expressed, arranged in the order of\ntheir logical connexion, exhibiting their own _rationale_ and excluding\nall other law. On the other hand the problem has in some respects become\neasier since the time of Bentham. With the Benthamite codification the\nconception of reform in the substantive law is more or less mixed up. If\ncodification had been possible in his day, it would, unless it had been\naccompanied by the searching reforms which have been effected since, and\nmainly through his influence, perhaps have been more of an evil than a\ngood. The mere dread that, under the guise of codification or\nimprovement in form, some change in substance may secretly be effected\nhas long been a practical obstacle in the way of legal reform. But the\nlaw has now been brought into a state of which it may be said that, if\nit is not the best in all respects that might be desired, it is at least\nin most respects as good as the conditions of legislation will permit it\nto be. Codification, in fact, may now be treated purely as a question of\nform. What is proposed is that the law, being, as we assume, in\nsubstance what the nation wishes it to be, should be made as accessible\nas possible, and as intelligible as possible. These two essential\nconditions of a sound system of law are, we need hardly say, far from\nbeing fulfilled in England. The law of the land is embodied in thousands\nof statutes and tens of thousands of reports. It is expressed in\nlanguage which has never been fixed by a controlling authority, and\nwhich has swayed about with every change of time, place and\ncircumstance. It has no definitions, no rational distinctions, no\nconnexion of parts. Until the passing of the Judicature Act of 1873 it\nwas pervaded throughout its entire sphere by the flagrant antinomy of\nlaw and equity, and that act has only ordered, not executed, its\nconsolidation. No lawyer pretends to know more than a fragment of it.\nFew practical questions can be answered by a lawyer without a search\ninto numberless acts of parliament and reported cases. To laymen, of\ncourse, the whole law is a sealed book. As there are no authoritative\ngeneral principles, it happens that the few legal maxims known to the\npublic, being apprehended out of relation to their authorities, are as\noften likely to be wrong as to be right. It is hopeless to think of\nmaking it possible for every man to be his own lawyer, but we can at\nleast try to make it possible for a lawyer to know the whole law. The\nearlier advocates of codification founded their case mainly on the evils\nof judiciary law, _i.e._ the law contained in the reported decisions of\nthe judges. Bentham's bitter antipathy to judicial legislation is well\nknown. Austin's thirty-ninth lecture (_Lectures_, ed. 1869) contains an\nexhaustive criticism of the tenable objections to judiciary law. All\nsuch law is embedded in decisions on particular cases, from which it\nmust be extracted by a tedious and difficult process of induction. Being\ncreated for particular cases it is necessarily uncomprehensive,\nimperfect, uncertain and bulky. These are evils which are incident to\nthe nature of judiciary laws. The defective form of the existing statute\nlaw, moreover, has also given rise to loud complaints. Year by year the\nmass of legislation grows larger, and as long as the basis of a system\nis judiciary law, it is impossible that the new statutes can be\ncompletely integrated therewith. The mode of framing acts of parliament,\nand especially the practice of legislating by reference to previous\nacts, likewise produce much uncertainty and disorder. Some progress has,\nhowever, been made by the passing from time to time of various acts\ncodifying branches of law, such as the Bills of Exchange Act 1882, the\nPartnership Act 1890, the Trusts Act 1893, and the Interpretation Act\n1889.\n\nThe Statute Law Revision Committee also perform a useful work in\nexcising dead law from the statute-book, partly by repeal of obsolete\nand spent acts and parts of acts, and partly by pruning redundant\npreambles and words. The construction of a section of an act may depend\non the preamble and the context, and the repeal of the preamble and\ncertain parts of the act may therefore affect the construction of what\nis left. This is provided for by a clause which is said to have been\nsettled by Lord Westbury. It provides (in effect) that the repeal of any\nwords or expressions of enactment shall not affect the construction of\nany statute or part of a statute. The lawyer, therefore, cannot rely on\nthe revised edition of the statutes alone, and it is still necessary for\nhim to consult the complete act as it was originally enacted.\n\nThe process of gradual codification adopted in India has been\nrecommended for imitation in England by those who have had some\nexperience of its working. The first of the Indian codes was the Penal\nCode (see CRIMINAL LAW), and there are also codes of civil and criminal\nprocedure.\n\nWhether any attempt will ever be made to supersede this vast and\nunarranged mass by a complete code seems very doubtful. Writers on\ncodification have for the most part insisted that the work should be\nundertaken as a whole, and that the parts should have relation to some\ngeneral scheme of the law which should be settled first. The practical\ndifficulties in the way of an undertaking so stupendous as the\ncodification _uno coetu_ of the whole mass of the law hardly require to\nbe stated.\n\nIn discussions on codification two difficulties are insisted on by its\nopponents, which have some practical interest--(1) What is to be done in\nthose cases for which the code has not provided? and (2) How is new law\nto be incorporated with the code? The objection that a code will hamper\nthe opinions of the court, destroy the flexibility and elasticity of the\ncommon law, &c., disappears when it is stated in the form of a\nproposition, that law codified will cover a smaller number of cases, or\nwill be less easily adapted to new cases, than law uncodified. The\nFrench system ordered the judges, under a penalty, to give a decision on\nall cases, whether contemplated or not by the code, and referred them\ngenerally to the following sources:--(1) Equite naturelle, loi\nnaturelle; (2) loi romain; (3) loi coutumier; (4) usages, exemples,\njugements, jurisprudence; (5) droit commun; (6) principes generaux,\nmaximes, doctrine, science. The Prussian code, on the other hand,\nrequired the judges to report new cases to the head of the judicial\ndepartment, and they were decided by the legislative commission. No\nprovision was made in either case for incorporating the new law with the\ncode, an omission which Austin justly considers fatal to the usefulness\nof codification. It is absurd to suppose that any code can remain long\nwithout requiring substantial alteration. Cases will arise when its\nmeaning must be extended and modified by judges, and every year will\nproduce its quota of new legislation by the state. The courts should be\nleft to interpret a code as they now interpret statutes, and provision\nshould be made for the continual revision of the code, so that the new\nlaw created by judges or directly by the state may from time to time be\nworked into the code.\n\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n  [1] The most ancient code known, that of Khammurabi, is dealt with in\n    the article BABYLONIAN LAW.\n\n\n\n\nCODE NAPOLEON, the first code of the French civil law, known at first as\nthe _Code civil des Francais_, was promulgated in its entirety by a law\nof the 30th Ventose in the year XII. (31st of March 1804). On the 3rd of\nSeptember 1807 it received the official name of Code Napoleon, although\nthe part that Napoleon took in framing it was not very important. A law\nof 1818 restored to it its former name, but a decree of the 27th of\nMarch 1852 re-established the title of Code Napoleon. Since the 4th of\nSeptember 1870 the laws have quoted it only under the name of the Code\nCivil.\n\nNever has a work of legislation been more national in the exact sense of\nthe word. Desired for centuries by the France of the _ancien regime_,\nand demanded by the _cahiers_ of 1789, this \"code of civil laws common\nto the whole realm\" was promised by the constitution of 1791. However,\nthe two first assemblies of the Revolution were able to prepare only a\nfew fragments of it. The preparation of a coherent plan began with the\nConvention. The _ancien regime_ had collected and adjusted some of the\nmaterial. There was, on the one hand, a vast juridical literature which\nby eliminating differences of detail, had disengaged from the various\nFrench \"customs\" the essential part which they had in common, under the\nname of \"common customary law\"; on the other hand, the Roman law current\nin France had in like manner undergone a process of simplification in\nnumerous works, the chief of which was that of Domat; while certain\nparts had already been codified in the _Grandes Ordonnances_, which were\nthe work of d'Aguesseau. This legacy from the past, which it was desired\nto preserve within reason, had to be combined and blended with the laws\nof the Revolution, which had wrought radical reforms in the conditions\naffecting the individual, the tenure of real property, the order of\ninheritance and the system of mortgages. Cambaceres, as the\nrepresentative of a commission of the Convention, brought forward two\nsuccessive schemes for the Code Civil. As a member of one of the\ncouncils, he drew up a third under the Directory, and these projected\nforms came in turn nearer and nearer to what was to be the ultimate form\nof the code. So great was the interest centred in this work, that the\nlaw of the 19th Brumaire, year VIII., which, in ratification of the\nprevious day's _coup d'etat_ nominated provisional consuls and two\nlegislative commissions, gave injunctions to the latter to draw up a\nscheme for the Code Civil. This was done in part by one of the members,\nJacqueminot, and finally under the constitution of the year VIII., the\ncompletion of the work was taken in hand. The legislative machinery\nestablished by this constitution, defective as it was in other respects,\nwas eminently suited for this task. Indeed, all projected laws emanated\nfrom the government and were prepared by the newly established council\nof state, which was so well recruited that it easily furnished qualified\nmen, mostly veterans of the revolution, to prepare the final scheme. The\ncouncil of state naturally possessed in its legislative section and its\ngeneral assembly bodies both competent and sufficiently limited to\ndiscuss the texts efficiently. The _corps legislatif_ had not the right\nof amendment, so could not disturb the harmony of the scheme. It was in\nthe discussions of the general assembly of the council of state that\nNapoleon took part, in 97 cases out of 102 in the capacity of chairman,\nbut, interesting as his observations occasionally are, he cannot be\nconsidered as a serious collaborator in this great work.\n\nThose responsible for the scheme have in the main been very successful\nin their work; they have generally succeeded in fusing the two elements\nwhich they had to deal with, namely ancient French law, and that of the\nRevolution. The point in which their work is comparatively weak is the\nsystem of hypothec (q.v.), because they did not succeed in steering a\nmiddle course between two opposite systems, and the law of the 23rd of\nMarch 1855 (_sur la transcription en matiere hypothecaire_) was\nnecessary to make good the deficiency. A fault frequently found with the\nCode Civil is that its general divisions show a lack of logic and\nmethod, but the division is practically that of the Institutes of\nJustinian, and is about as good as any other: persons, things,\ninheritance, contracts and obligations, and finally, in place of\nactions, which have no importance for French law except from the point\nof view of procedure, privileges and hypothecs, as in the ancient\n_coutumes_ of France, and prescription. It is, _mutatis mutandis_,\npractically the same division as that of Blackstone's Commentaries.\n\nOf late years other objections have been expressed; serious omissions\nhave been pointed out in the Code; it has not given to personal property\nthe importance which it has acquired in the course of the 19th century;\nit makes no provision for dealing with the legal relations between\nemployers and employed which modern complex undertakings involve; it\ndoes not treat of life insurance, &c. But this only proves that it could\nnot foretell the future, for most of these questions are concerned with\neconomic phenomena and social relations which did not exist at the time\nwhen it was framed. The Code needed revising and completing, and this\nwas carried out by degrees by means of numerous important laws. In 1904,\nafter the celebration of the centenary of the Code Civil, an\nextra-parliamentary commission was nominated to prepare a revision of\nit, and at once began the work.\n\nThe influence of the Code Civil has been very great, not only in France\nbut also abroad. Belgium has preserved it, and the Rhine provinces only\nceased to be subject to it on the promulgation of the civil code of the\nGerman empire. Its ascendancy has been due chiefly to the clearness of\nits provisions, and to the spirit of equity and equality which inspires\nthem. Numerous more recent codes have also taken it as a model: the\nDutch code, the Italian, and the code of Portugal; and, more remotely,\nthe Spanish code, and those of the Central and South American republics.\nIn the present day it is rivalled by the German civil code, which,\nhaving been drawn up at the end of the 19th century, naturally does not\nshow the same lacunae or omissions. It is inspired, however, by a very\ndifferent spirit, and the French code does not suffer altogether by\ncomparison with it either in substance or in form.\n\n  See _Le Code Civil, livre du centenaire_ (Paris, 1904), a collection\n  of essays by French and foreign lawyers.     (J. P. E.)\n\n\n\n\nCODIAEUM, a small genus of plants belonging to the natural order\nEuphorbiaceae. One species, _C. variegatum_, a native of Polynesia, is\ncultivated in greenhouses, under the name of croton, for the sake of its\nleaves, which are generally variegated with yellow, and are often\ntwisted or have the blades separated into distinct portions.\n\n\n\n\nCODICIL (Lat. _codicillus_, a little book or tablet, diminutive of\n_codex_), a supplement to a will (q.v.), containing anything which a\ntestator desires to add, or which he wishes to retract, to explain or to\nalter. In English law a codicil requires to be executed with the same\nformalities as a will under the Wills Act 1837.\n\n\n\n\nCODILLA, the name given to the broken fibres which are separated from\nthe flax during the scutching process. On this account it is sometimes\ntermed scutching tow. Quantities of this material are used along with\nheckled tow in the production of tow yarns.\n\n\n\n\nCODINUS, GEORGE [GEORGIOS KODINOS], the reputed author of three extant\nworks in Byzantine literature. Their attribution to him is merely a\nmatter of convenience, two of them being anonymous in the MSS. Of\nCodinus himself nothing is known; it is supposed that he lived towards\nthe end of the 15th century. The works referred to are the following:--\n\n1. _Patria_ ([Greek: Ta Patria tes Konstantinoupoleos]), treating of the\nhistory, topography, and monuments of Constantinople. It is divided\ninto five sections: (_a_) the foundation of the city; (_b_) its\nsituation, limits and topography; (_c_) its statues, works of art, and\nother notable sights; (_d_) its buildings; (_e_) the construction of the\nchurch of St Sophia. It was written in the reign of Basil II.\n(976-1025), revised and rearranged under Alexius I. Comnenus\n(1081-1118), and perhaps copied by Codinus, whose name it bears in some\n(later) MSS. The chief sources are: the _Patria_ of Hesychius Illustrius\nof Miletus, an anonymous (_c._ 750) brief chronological record ([Greek:\nParastaseis syntomoi chronikai]), and an anonymous account ([Greek:\ndiegesis]) of St Sophia (ed. T. Preger in _Scriptores originum\nConstantinopolitanarum_, fasc. i., 1901, to be followed by the _Patria_\nof Codinus). Procopius, _De Aedificiis_ and the poem of Paulus\nSilentiarius on the dedication of St Sophia should be read in connexion\nwith this subject.\n\n2. _De Officiis_ ([Greek: Peri ton Ophphikion]), a sketch, written in an\nunattractive style, of court and higher ecclesiastical dignities and of\nthe ceremonies proper to different occasions. It should be compared with\nthe _De Cerimoniis_ of Constantine Porphyrogenitus.\n\n3. A chronological outline of events from the beginning of the world to\nthe taking of Constantinople by the Turks (called Agarenes in the MS.\ntitle). It is of little value.\n\n  Complete editions are (by I. Bekker) in the Bonn _Corpus scriptorum\n  Hist. Byz._ (1839-1843, where, however, some sections of the _Patria_\n  are omitted), and in J. P. Migne, _Patrologia graeca_, clvii.; see\n  also C. Krumbacher, _Geschichte der byzantinischen Litteratur_ (1897).\n\n\n\n\nCOD-LIVER OIL (_Oleum Morrhuae_, or _Oleum Jecoris Aselli_), the oil\nobtained from the liver of the common cod (_Gadus morrhua_). In the\nearly process for extracting the oil the livers were allowed to putrefy\nin wooden tubs, when oils of two qualities, one called \"pale oil,\" and\nthe other \"light brown oil,\" successively rose to the surface and were\ndrawn off. A third oil was obtained by heating the liver-residues to\nabove the boiling-point of water, whereupon a black product, technically\ncalled \"brown oil,\" separated. The modern practice consists in heating\nthe perfectly fresh, cleaned livers by steam to a temperature above that\nof boiling water, or, in more recent practice, to a lower temperature,\nthe livers being kept as far as possible from contact with air. The oils\nso obtained are termed \"steamed-liver oils.\" The \"pale\" and \"light\nbrown\" oils are used in pharmacy; the \"brown\" oil, the cod oil of\ncommerce, being obtained from putrid and decomposing livers, has an\nobjectionable taste and odour and is largely employed by tanners. By\nboiling the livers at a somewhat high temperature, \"unracked\" cod oil is\nobtained, containing a considerable quantity of \"stearine\"; this fat,\nwhich separates on cooling, is sold as \"fish stearine\" for soap-making,\nor as \"fish-tallow\" for currying. The oil when freed from the stearine\nis known as \"racked oil.\" \"Coast cod oil\" is the commercial name for the\noil obtained from the livers of various kinds of fish, _e.g._ hake,\nling, haddock, &c. The most important centres of the cod-liver oil\nindustry are Lofoten and Romsdal in Norway; the oil is also prepared in\nthe United States, Canada, Newfoundland, Iceland and Russia; and at one\ntime a considerable quantity was prepared in the Shetland Islands and\nalong the east coast of Scotland.\n\nCod-liver oil contains palmitin, stearin and other more complex\nglycerides; the \"stearine\" mentioned above, however, contains very\nlittle palmitin and stearin. Several other acids have been identified:\nP. M. Meyerdahl obtained 4% of palmitic acid, 20% of jecoleic acid,\nC19H36O2, and 20% of therapic acid, C17H26O2; other investigators have\nrecognized jecoric acid, C18H30O2, asellic acid, C17H32O2, and\nphysetoleic acid, C16H30O2, but some uncertainty attends these last\nthree acids. Therapic and jecoleic acids apparently do not occur\nelsewhere in the animal kingdom, and it is probable that the therapeutic\nproperties of the oil are associated with the presence of these acids,\nand not with the small amount of iodine present as was at one time\nsupposed. Other constituents are cholesterol (0.46-1.32%), traces of\ncalcium, magnesium, sodium, chlorine and bromine, and various aliphatic\namines which are really secondary products, being formed by the\ndecomposition of the cellular tissue.\n\nCod-liver oil is used externally in medicine when its internal\nadministration is rendered impossible by idiosyncrasy or the state of\nthe patient's digestion. The oil is very readily absorbed from the skin\nand exerts all its therapeutic actions when thus exhibited. This method\nis often resorted to in the case of infants or young children suffering\nfrom abdominal or other forms of tuberculosis. Its only objection is the\nodour which the patient exhales. When taken by the mouth, cod-liver oil\nshares with other liver-oils the property of ready absorption. It often\ncauses unpleasant symptoms, which must always be dealt with and not\ndisregarded, more harm than good being done if this course is not\nfollowed. Fortunately a tolerance is soon established in the majority of\ncases. It has been experimentally proved that this is more readily\nabsorbed than any other oil--including other liver-oils. Much attention\nhas been paid to the explanation of this fact, since knowledge on this\npoint might enable an artificial product, without the disadvantages of\nthis oil, to be substituted for it. Very good results have been obtained\nfrom a preparation named \"lipanin,\" which consists of six parts of oleic\nacid and ninety-four of pure olein. Cod-liver oil has the further\npeculiarity of being more readily oxidizable than any other oil; an\nobviously valuable property when it is remembered that the entire\nfood-value of oils depends on their oxidation.\n\nCod-liver oil may be given in all wasting diseases, and is occasionally\nvaluable in cases of chronic rheumatoid arthritis; but its great\ntherapeutic value is in cases of tuberculosis of whatever kind, and\nnotably in pulmonary tuberculosis or consumption. Its reputation in this\nis quite inexpugnable. It is essential to remember that \"in phthisis the\nkey of the situation is the state of the alimentary tract,\" and the\nutmost care must be taken to obviate the nausea, loss of appetite and\ndiarrhoea, only too easily induced by this oil. It is best to begin with\nonly one dose in the twenty-four hours, to be taken just before going to\nsleep, so that the patient is saved its unpleasant \"repetition\" from an\nunaccustomed stomach. In general, it is therefore wise to order a double\ndose at bedtime. The oil may be given in capsules, or in the form of an\nemulsion, with or without malt-extract, or success may be obtained by\nadding, to every two drachms of the oil, ten minims of pure ether and a\ndrop of peppermint oil. The usual dose, at starting, is one or two\ndrachms, but the oil should be given eventually in the largest\nquantities that the patient can tolerate.\n\n\n\n\nCODRINGTON, CHRISTOPHER (1668-1710), British soldier and colonial\ngovernor, whose father was captain-general of the Leeward Isles, was\nborn in the island of Barbados, West Indies, in 1668. Educated at Christ\nChurch, Oxford, he was elected a fellow of All Souls, and subsequently\nserved with the British forces in Flanders, being rewarded in 1695 with\na captaincy in the Guards. In the same year he attended King William\nIII. on his visit to Oxford, and, in the absence of the public orator,\nwas chosen to deliver the University oration. In 1697, on the death of\nhis father, he was appointed captain-general and commander-in-chief of\nthe Leeward Isles. In 1703 he commanded the unsuccessful British\nexpedition against Guadeloupe. After this he resigned his governorship,\nand spent the rest of his life in retirement and study on his Barbados\nestates. He died on the 7th of April 1710, bequeathing these estates to\nthe Society for the Propagation of the Gospel in Foreign Parts for the\nfoundation of a college in Barbados. This college, known as the\nCodrington college, was built in 1714-1742. To All Souls College,\nOxford, he bequeathed books worth L6000 and L10,000 in money, out of\nwhich was built and endowed the Codrington library there.\n\n\n\n\nCODRINGTON, SIR EDWARD (1770-1851), British admiral, belonged to a\nfamily long settled at Dodington in Gloucestershire. He was the youngest\nof three brothers, who were left orphans at an early age, and were\neducated by an uncle, Mr Bethell. Edward Codrington was sent for a short\ntime to Harrow, and entered the navy in July 1783. He served on the\nAmerican station, in the Mediterranean and at home, till he was promoted\nlieutenant on the 28th of May 1783. Lord Howe selected him to be signal\nlieutenant on the flagship of the Channel fleet at the beginning of the\nrevolutionary war with France. In that capacity he served in the \"Queen\nCharlotte\" (100) during the operations which culminated in the battle\nof the 1st of June 1794. The notes he wrote on Barrow's account of the\nbattle in his _Life of Howe_, and the reminiscences he dictated to his\ndaughter, which are to be found in her memoir of him, are of great value\nfor the history of the action. On the 7th of October 1794 he was\npromoted commander, and on the 6th of April 1795 attained the rank of\npost-captain and the command of the \"Babet\" (22). He continued to serve\nin the Channel, and was present at the action off L'Orient on the 23rd\nof June 1795. Codrington wrote notes on this encounter also, which are\nto be found in the memoir. They are able and valuable, but, like all his\ncorrespondence throughout his life, show that he was of a somewhat\ncensorious disposition, was apt to take the worst view of the conduct of\nothers, and was liable to be querulous. He next commanded the \"Druid\"\n(32) in the Channel and on the coast of Portugal, till she was paid off\nin 1797. Codrington now remained on shore and on half-pay for some\nyears. In December 1802 he married Jane, daughter of Jasper Hall of\nKingston, Jamaica.\n\nOn the renewal of the war after the breach of the peace of Amiens he was\nappointed (May 1805) to the command of the \"Orion\" (74) and was attached\nto the fleet on the coast of Spain, then blockading Villeneuve in Cadiz.\nThe \"Orion\" took a conspicuous part in the battle of Trafalgar.\nCodrington's correspondence contains much illuminative evidence as to\nthe preliminaries and the events of the victory. From 1805 till 1813 he\ncontinued to serve first in the \"Orion\" and then (1808) in the \"Blake\"\n(74) in European waters. He was present on the Walcheren expedition, and\nwas very actively employed on the Mediterranean coast of Spain in\nco-operating with the Spaniards against the French. In 1814 he was\npromoted rear-admiral, at which time he was serving on the coast of\nNorth America as captain of the fleet to Sir Alexander Cochrane during\nthe operations against Washington, Baltimore and New Orleans. In 1815 he\nwas made K.C.B., and was promoted vice-admiral on the 10th of July 1821.\nIn December 1826 he was appointed to the Mediterranean command, and\nsailed on the 1st of February 1827. From that date until his recall on\nthe 21st of June 1828 he was engaged in the arduous duties imposed on\nhim by the Greek War of Independence, which had led to anarchy and much\npiracy in the Levant. On the 20th of October 1827 he destroyed the\nTurkish and Egyptian naval forces at Navarino (q.v.), while in command\nof a combined British, French and Russian fleet. As the battle had been\nunforeseen in England, and its result was unwelcome to the ministry of\nthe day, Codrington was entangled in a correspondence to prove that he\nhad not gone beyond his instructions, and he was recalled by a despatch,\ndated the 4th of June.\n\nAfter the battle Codrington went to Malta to refit his ships. He\nremained there till May 1828, when he sailed to join his French and\nRussian colleagues on the coast of the Morea. They endeavoured to\nenforce the evacuation of the peninsula by Ibrahim peacefully. The Pasha\nmade diplomatic difficulties, and on the 25th of July the three admirals\nagreed that Codrington should go to Alexandria to obtain Ibrahim's\nrecall by his father Mehemet Ali. Codrington had heard on the 22nd of\nJune of his own supersession, but, as his successor had not arrived, he\ncarried out the arrangement made on the 25th of July, and his presence\nat Alexandria led to the treaty of the 6th of August 1828, by which the\nevacuation of the Morea was settled. His services were recognized by the\ngrant of the grand cross of the Bath, but there is no doubt that he was\ntreated as a scape-goat at least to some extent. After his return home\nhe was occupied for a time in defending himself, and then in leisure\nabroad. He commanded a training squadron in the Channel in 1831 and\nbecame admiral on the 10th of January 1837. From November 1839 to\nDecember 1842 he was commander-in-chief at Portsmouth. He died on the\n28th of April 1851.\n\nSir Edward Codrington left two sons, Sir William (1804-1884), a soldier\nwho commanded in the Crimea, and Sir John Henry (1808-1877), a naval\nofficer, who died an admiral of the fleet.\n\n  See _Memoir of the Life of Admiral Sir Edward Codrington_, by his\n  daughter Jane, Lady Bourchier, wife of Sir T. Bourchier, R.N. (London,\n  1873).     (D. H.)\n\n\n\n\nCODRUS, in Greek legend, the last king of Athens. According to the\nstory, it was prophesied at the time of the Dorian invasion of\nPeloponnesus (_c._ 1068 B.C.) that only the death of their king at the\nenemy's hands could ensure victory to the Athenians. Devoting himself to\nhis country, Codrus, in the disguise of a peasant, made his way into the\nenemy's camp, and provoked a quarrel with some Dorian soldiers. He fell,\nand the Dorians, on discovering that Codrus had been slain, retreated\nhomeward, despairing of success. No one being thought worthy to succeed\nCodrus, the title of king was abolished, and that of archon (q.v.)\nsubstituted for it.\n\n  See Lycurgus, _Leocr._ xx. [=84-87]; Justin ii. 6; Vell. Pat. i. 2;\n  Grote, _Hist. of Greece_, pt. i. ch. 18; Busolt, _Griechische\n  Geschichte_, i.\n\n\n\n\nCODY, WILLIAM FREDERICK (1846-   ), American scout and showman, known\nunder the name of \"Buffalo Bill,\" was born in 1846 in Scott county,\nIowa. He first became known as one of the riders of the \"Pony Express,\"\na mail service established in the spring of 1860 by the Central Overland\nCalifornia and Pike's Peak Express Company to carry the mails overland\nfrom Saint Joseph, Missouri, to Sacramento, California, a distance of\n1950 m., by means of relays of ponies, each rider being expected to\ncover about 75 m. daily. Owing to the wildness of the country and the\nhostility of the Indians, both the riders and the station-keepers led\nlives of great hardship and danger. The \"Pony Express\" was discontinued\nin 1861 upon the completion of the Pacific Telegraph company's line, and\nyoung Cody became a scout and guide for the United States army. In 1863\nhe formally enlisted in the 7th regiment of Kansas cavalry, in which he\nserved until the close of the Civil War. In 1867 he made a contract with\nthe Kansas Pacific railway to furnish its employees with buffalo meat\nwhile the line was being extended through the wilderness, and his name\nof \"Buffalo Bill\" was given him from this circumstance. In 1868-1872 he\nwas again an army scout and guide, serving against the Sioux and\nCheyennes; and in 1872 was a member of the Nebraska house of\nrepresentatives. During the Sioux-Cheyenne War of 1876 he served in the\n5th United States Cavalry, and at the battle of Indian Creek killed the\nCheyenne chief Yellow Hand in single combat. In 1883 he organized his\n\"Wild West Show,\" a spectacular performance on a large scale, his first\nEuropean tour taking place in 1887. In the Nebraska national guard he\nagain served against the Sioux in 1890-1891.\n\n\n\n\nCO-EDUCATION, the term applied to the instruction and training of boys\nand girls, or of young people of both sexes, in the same school or\ninstitution, in the same classes and through the same courses of study.\nExamples of the thoroughgoing application of this principle can be found\nin every grade of education from the elementary school to the\nuniversity. But the term \"Co-education\" is sometimes used in a wider\nsense, in order to include cases in which boys and girls, or young men\nand young women of university age, are admitted to membership of the\nsame school or college but receive instruction wholly or in part in\nseparate classes and in different subjects. Other variable factors in\nco-educational systems are the extent to which men and women are mixed\non the teaching staff, and the freedom of intercourse permitted between\npupils of the two sexes in class, in games and in other activities of\nschool life. In another form of combined education (preferred by Comte,\n_Systeme de politique positive_, iv. 266), pupils of the two sexes are\ntaught successively by the same teacher. By the English Board of\nEducation, a distinction is drawn between mixed schools and dual\nschools. \"Mixed schools\" are those in which, for most subjects of the\ncurriculum, boys and girls are taught together by the same teachers: in\n\"dual schools\" there are separate boys' and girls' departments under a\nsingle principal, but with separate entrances, classrooms and\nplaygrounds for the two sexes.\n\n_History._--Co-education in early times was occasional and sporadic. For\nexample, women were admitted by Plato to the inner circle of the Academy\non terms of equality with men. The educational endowments of Teos\nprovided that the professors of literature should teach both boys and\ngirls. It is uncertain whether the Roman schools in classical times were\nattended by both sexes. A tombstone found at Capua represents a\nschoolmaster with a boy on one side and a girl on the other. Probably\nco-education was practised in country districts for economical reasons;\nand also in the home schools organized by wealthier families (Wilkins,\n_Roman Education_, pp. 42-43). At Charles the Great's Palace School at\nAachen (A.D. 782 onwards), Alcuin taught together the young princes and\ntheir sisters, as well as grown men and women. The Humanists of the\nRenaissance made the full development of personality a chief aim of\neducation, and held up literary accomplishment as a desirable mark of\npersonal distinction both for men and women. This led to the scholarly\neducation of girls along with boys in the home schools of some great\nfamilies. Thus, at Mantua (1423 onwards), Vittorino da Feltre taught\nCecilia Gonzaga with her brothers and the other boy pupils at his\nboarding-school; but there is no evidence that the latter was otherwise\nco-educational. Luther and other Reformers urged that girls as well as\nboys should be taught to read the Bible. Hence came the tendency to\nco-education of boys and girls in some elementary schools in Protestant\nlands. This tendency can be traced both in Scotland and in the northern\nparts of England. It is believed that, in the early days of New England,\ndistrict schools in smaller American towns were open to boys and girls\nalike, but that few girls advanced beyond reading and writing (Martin,\n_Massachusetts Public School System_, p. 130). At Dorchester, Mass., it\nwas left to the discretion of the elders and schoolmen whether maids\nshould be taught with the boys or not; but in practice the girls seem to\nhave been educated apart. In 1602 the council of Ayr, Scotland, ordained\nthat the girls who were learning to read and write at the Grammar School\nshould be sent to the master of the Song School, \"because it is not\nseemly that sic lasses should be among the lads\" (Grant, _History of the\nBurgh and Parish Schools of Scotland_, p. 526 ff.). Meriden,\nConnecticut, seems to have made common provision for the elementary\neducation of boys and girls in 1678. Northampton, Mass., did the same in\n1680. Deerfield, Mass., in 1698 voted that \"all families having children\neither male or female between the ages of six and ten years shall pay by\nthe poll for their schooling\"--presumably in the common school.\n\nThus the beginnings of co-education in its modern organized form may be\ntraced back partly to Scotland and partly to the United States. The\nco-education of boys and girls, carried through in varying degrees of\ncompleteness, was not uncommon in the old Endowed Schools of Scotland,\nand became more frequent as increasing attention was given to the\neducation of girls. At the Dollar Institution, founded by John McNabb\nfor the benefit of the poor of the parish of Dollar and shire of\nClackmannan (date of will, 1800), boys and girls have been educated\ntogether in certain classes since the beginning of the school in 1818.\nIn the eastern parts of the United States, where the Puritan tradition\nalso prevailed, co-education struck firm root, and spread chiefly for\nreasons of convenience and economy (Dexter, _History of Education in\nUnited States_, p. 430). But throughout the west, co-education was\nstrongly preferred in elementary and secondary schools and in\nuniversities on the further ground that it was believed to be more in\naccordance with the democratic principle of equal educational\nopportunity for the two sexes.\n\nIt should be added, however, that the leaven of Pestalozzi's thought has\nworked powerfully both in Europe and America in favour of the idea of\nco-education. His view was that all educational institutions should, as\nfar as possible, be modelled upon the analogy of the family and of the\nhome. At Stanz (1798-1799) he educated together in one household boys\nand girls ranging in age from five to fifteen. At Burgdorf (1799-1804)\nhis work was in part co-educational. At Yverdun (1804-1825) Pestalozzi\nestablished a school for girls close to his school for boys. The girls\nreceived instruction from some of the masters of the boys' school, and\ngirls and boys met at evening worship, in short excursions and at other\ntimes.\n\nIn England, the Society of Friends have been the pioneers of\nco-education in boarding schools, both for younger children and for\npupils up to fifteen or sixteen years of age. The practice of the\nsociety, though not exclusively co-educational, has long been favourable\nto co-education, either in its complete or restricted form, as being\nmore in harmony with the conditions of family life. Ackworth school was\nestablished by the London Yearly Meeting in 1779 for the education of\nboys and girls; but the school has never been fully co-educational, the\nboys and girls being taught separately except in a few classes. At\nSidcot school, which was founded in 1808 by the Associated Quarterly\nMeetings in the west of England for the education of children of\nFriends, boys and girls are taught together, except in certain\nhandicraft subjects. Several other co-educational schools were founded\nby the Society of Friends during the first half of the 19th century.\n\nSince that time the movement towards co-education in secondary schools\nand universities has steadily gained strength in England. It has been\nfurthered by the diffusion of Pestalozzian ideas and also by the\ninfluence of American example. In England, private schools have made\nsome of the most valuable co-educational experiments. A private boarding\nand day secondary school on co-educational lines was instituted by Mr W.\nA. Case in Hampstead in 1865. A co-educational boarding-school was\nfounded in 1869 by Miss Lushington at Kingsley near Alton, Hants. In\n1873 Mr W. H. Herford began the Ladybarn school for boys and girls at\nWithington in the suburbs of Manchester. The passing of the Welsh\nIntermediate Education Act 1889 led to the establishment of a\nconsiderable number of new mixed or dual secondary day-schools in Wales.\nMany English teachers gained experience in these schools and\nsubsequently influenced English education. The work and writings of Mr\nJ. H. Badley at Bedales, Petersfield, a co-educational boarding-school\nof the first grade, gave greatly increased weight to the principle of\nco-education. Important additions have also been made to the fund of\nco-educational experience by the King Alfred's school (Hampstead),\nKeswick school, and West Heath school (Hampstead). In 1907 a Public\nCo-educational Boarding School was opened at Harpenden.\n\nSince the Education Act 1902 became law, there has been a rapid increase\nof co-educational secondary day-schools of the lower grade, under county\nor borough education authorities, in all parts of England. This increase\nis due to two chief causes, viz. (1) The co-educational tradition of\nsome of the higher grade board schools, many of which have become\nsecondary schools; and (2) the economy effected by establishing one\nco-educational secondary school, in place of two smaller schools for\nboys and girls separately.\n\nThe idea of co-education in secondary schools has spread in several\nother European countries, especially in Holland, Norway, Sweden and\nDenmark. In Scandinavia, the new practice appears to have begun with the\nestablishment of a private higher secondary school, the Palmgremska\nSamskolan, in Stockholm, in 1876. A similar school, Nya Svenska\nLaroverket, was founded upon the same model in Helsingfors, Finland, in\n1880. In Norway, the law of 1896 introduced co-education in all state\nschools. In Denmark, as in Norway, co-education was begun in private\nschools; on its proving a success there, it was introduced into the\nstate schools, with two exceptions; and it is now obligatory in most\nstate schools but optional in private schools (J. S. Thornton, _Schools\nPublic and Private in the North of Europe_, 1907, p. 97). In Holland,\nthere is now a good deal of co-education in lower secondary schools of\nthe modern type. For example, at Utrecht, the state higher burgher\nschool provides the same course of instruction, except in gymnastics,\nfor boys and girls. At Almeloo, the municipal higher burgher school,\nthough co-educational, differentiates the classes in several subjects.\nIn Belgium, France, Germany and Austria, co-education, though frequent\nin elementary schools, is regarded as undesirable in secondary; but the\nmovement in its favour in many parts of Germany seems to be gathering\nstrength. All over Europe the Roman Catholic populations prefer the\nolder ideal of separate schools for boys and girls.\n\nCo-education in colleges and universities, which began at Oberlin, Ohio,\nin 1833, was adopted almost without exception by the state universities\nthroughout the west of America from 1862 onwards. Since that time the\nidea has spread rapidly throughout Europe, and the presence of women\nstudents at universities originally confined to men is one of the most\nstriking educational facts of the age.\n\n_Co-education in the United Kingdom, (a) England and Wales._--The Board\nof Education does not possess any summary showing the number of pupils\nin mixed public elementary schools or in mixed departments of such\nschools. In 1901, out of 31,502 departments of public elementary schools\nin England and Wales, nearly half (15,504) were mixed departments, in\nwhich boys and girls were educated together. But as the departments were\nof unequal size, it must not be inferred from this that half the\nchildren in public elementary schools in that year (5,883,762) were\nreceiving co-education. Of the total number of departments in public\nelementary schools in England and Wales, the percentage of mixed schools\nfell from 51.6 in 1881 to 49.4 in 1891 and 49.2 in 1901. But these\npercentages must not be taken to prove an absolute decline in the number\nof children in mixed departments.\n\nIn England, out of 492 public secondary schools which were recognized by\nthe Board of Education for the receipt of government grant for the\nschool year ending July 31, 1905, and which contained 85,358 pupils, 108\nschools, with 21,720 pupils, were mixed; and 20 schools, with 8980\npupils, were dual schools.\n\nThus, of the total number of pupils in the secondary schools referred to\nabove, a little over 25% were in mixed schools, and about 10% were in\ndual schools. It is not safe to assume, however, that all the mixed\nschools were completely co-educational in their work, or that the dual\nschools were not co-educational in respect of certain subjects or parts\nof the course. It should also be remembered that, besides the secondary\nschools recognized by the Board of Education for the receipt of\ngovernment grant, there is a considerable number of great endowed\nsecondary boarding-schools (\"public schools\" in the English use of that\nexpression) which are for boys only. There are also at least 5000\nprivate secondary schools, of which, in 1897 (since when no\ncomprehensive statistical inquiry has been made), 970, with 26,027\npupils, were mixed schools. But the great majority of the children in\nthese mixed schools were under twelve years of age. The number of boys\nand girls over twelve years of age, in the mixed private secondary\nschools which were included in the 1897 return, was only 5488.\n\nIn Wales, for the school year ending July 31, 1905, out of 84\nstate-aided public secondary schools, 11 were mixed and 44 were dual\nschools. The number of scholars in the Welsh schools referred to above\nwas 9340. Of these, 1457, or 15%, were in mixed schools, and 5085, or\n54%, were in dual schools. The managers of dual schools in Wales have\nthe power to arrange that boys and girls shall be taught together in any\nor all the classes; and, as a matter of fact, nearly all the dual\nschools are worked as mixed schools, though they appear in these figures\nunder dual.\n\n_(b) Scotland._--In the public elementary schools, including the higher\ngrade schools of Scotland, co-education is the almost universal rule.\nThe exceptions, which for the most part are Roman Catholic or Episcopal\nChurch schools, tend to diminish year by year. In 1905, out of 3843\ndepartments in the Scotch public elementary and higher grade schools,\n3783 were mixed. These include the infant departments. Out of the total\nnumber of children in the public elementary and higher grade schools,\nincluding infants' departments, 98.43% were receiving co-education.\n\nIn the secondary schools of Scotland there has been in recent years\nlittle perceptible movement either towards co-education or away from it.\nWhat movement there is, favours the establishment of separate secondary\nschools for girls in the large centres of population. Out of 109 public\nsecondary schools in Scotland in 1905-1906, 29 schools were for boys\nonly and 40 schools for girls only. One school had boys and girls in\nseparate departments. In the remaining 39 schools, boys and girls were\ntaken together to an extent which varied with the subjects taken; but\nthere was nothing of the nature of a strict separation of the sexes as\nregards the ordinary work of the school.\n\n_(c) Ireland._--In Ireland, the percentage of pupils on the rolls of\nmixed national schools (_i.e._ schools attended by boys and girls), to\nthe total number of pupils on the rolls of all national schools, has\nslowly increased. In 1880 the percentage was 57.5; in 1898, 59.4; in\n1905, 60.9.\n\nThe Commissioners of Intermediate Education in Ireland had on their list\nin 1906, 38 secondary schools which were classified by them as mixed\nschools. These schools were attended by 640 boys and 413 girls between\n13 and 19 years of age. The commissioners do not know to what extent the\nboys and girls in these schools received instruction in the same\nclasses. As, however, the schools are small, they believe that in the\ngreat majority of cases the boys and girls were taught together. In one\nlarge school not classified as mixed, the boys (117) and girls (60) were\ntaught in the same classes.\n\n_Universities and University Colleges in the United Kingdom._--Women are\nadmitted as members of the universities of London, Durham, Manchester,\nLiverpool, Birmingham, Leeds, Sheffield, Wales, Edinburgh, Aberdeen, St\nAndrews, Glasgow, Dublin and the Royal University of Ireland. At Oxford\nand Cambridge women are not admitted as members of the university, but\nby courtesy enjoy entrance to practically all university lectures and\nexaminations. The social life of the men and women students is more\nseparate in the old than in the new universities. In no grade of\neducation in the United Kingdom has the principle of co-education made\nmore rapid advance than in the universities. The university education of\nwomen began in London (Queen's College 1848, Bedford College 1849, both\nbeing preceded by classes in earlier years). The University of London in\n1878 decided to accept from the crown a supplemental charter making\nevery degree, honour and prize awarded by the university accessible to\nstudents of both sexes on perfectly equal terms. By charter in 1880, the\nVictoria University (now broken up into the universities of Manchester,\nLiverpool and Leeds) received power to grant degrees to women as well as\nto men. The charter of the university of Wales (1893) provides that\n\"Women shall be eligible equally with men for admittance to any degree\nwhich our university is authorized to confer; every office created in\nthe university, and the membership of every authority constituted by the\ncharter shall be open to women equally with men.\" In 1889 the\nUniversities (Scotland) Act empowered the commissioners to make\nordinances, enabling each university to admit women in graduation in one\nor more faculties and to provide for their instruction. At all the\nuniversity colleges in the United Kingdom women are educated as well as\nmen.\n\n_United States._--Co-education is a characteristic feature of the\neducational system of the different states of the American Union. Of\nelementary school pupils at least 96%, and of secondary school pupils\n95%, are in mixed schools. In 1903, out of a total enrolment of\n15,990,803 pupils in public elementary and secondary schools and\ntraining colleges, 15,387,734 were in schools attended by pupils of both\nsexes. Out of 550,600 pupils on the rolls of public secondary schools\n(high schools) in 1902, 523,300 were in co-educational schools. The same\nwas true of 43% of the pupils (numbering over 100,000) in private\nsecondary schools. In colleges and universities 62% of all\nundergraduates were in co-educational institutions, to which category\nthirty-four American universities belong (U.S. Commissioner of\nEducation, _Report for 1903_, p. 2454). In America opinion is thus\npredominantly in favour of co-education, but there is a current of\nadverse criticism, especially among some who have had experience of\nschool conditions in large cities.\n\n_General Review of the Question._--In schools for infants and younger\nchildren co-education is approved by all authorities. It is increasingly\nfavoured on educational grounds in smaller schools for children up to 12\nor 13 years of age or thereabouts. But where elementary schools have to\nbe large, separate departments for boys and girls are generally\npreferable, though mixed schools are often established for reasons of\neconomy. At the other end of the educational scale, viz. in the\nuniversities, the co-education of men and women in the same institution\nis fast becoming the rule. This is due partly to the prohibitive cost of\nduplicating teaching staff, laboratories, libraries and other equipment,\npartly to the desire of women to qualify themselves for professional\nlife by passing through the same courses of training as are prescribed\nfor men. The degree, however, to which social intercourse is carried on\nbetween men and women students differs widely in the different\nco-educational universities. There are occasional signs, _e.g._ at\nChicago, of a reaction against the fullest form of academic\nco-education. And it is probable that the universities will provide,\namong many courses common to men and women, some (like engineering)\nsuitable for men only, and others (like advanced instruction in\nhome-science, or certain courses of professional preparation for\nteachers of young children) which will rarely be attended by any but\nwomen. Common use of the same university institutions is compatible with\nmuch differentiation in courses of study and with separately organized\nforms of collegiate life. It is with regard to the part of education\nwhich lies between the elementary schools and the universities that the\nsharpest division of opinion upon the principle of co-education now\nexists. In Europe, with the exception of Scandinavia, those who advocate\nco-education of the sexes in secondary schools up to 18 or 19 years of\nage are at present in a distinct minority, even as regards day schools,\nand still more when they propose to apply the same principle to boarding\nschools. But the application of the co-educational principle to all\nschools alike is favoured by an apparently increasing number of men and\nwomen. This movement in opinion is connected with the increase in the\nnumber of girls desiring access to secondary schools, a demand which can\nmost easily and economically be met by granting to girls access to some\nof the existing schools for boys. The co-educational movement is also\nconnected with a strong view of sex equality. It is furthered by the\nrapidly increasing number of women teachers who are available for higher\neducational work. Mixed secondary schools with mixed staffs are\nspreading for reasons of economy in smaller towns and rural districts.\nIn large towns separate schools are usually recommended in preference,\nbut much depends upon the social tradition of the neighbourhood. Those\nwho advocate co-education for boys and girls in secondary schools urge\nit mainly on the ground of its naturalness and closer conformity to the\nconditions of healthy, unselfconscious home life. They believe it to be\na protective against uncleanness of talk and school immorality. They\npoint to its convenience and economy. They welcome co-education as\nlikely to bring with it a healthy radicalism in regard to the older\ntradition of studies in boys' secondary schools. They approve it as\nleading to mixed staffs of men and women teachers, and as the most\neffectual way of putting girls in a position of reasonable equality with\nboys in respect of intellectual and civic opportunity. On the other\nhand, those who oppose co-education in secondary schools rest their case\nupon the danger of the intellectual or physical overstrain of girls\nduring adolescence; and upon the unequal rate of development of boys and\ngirls during the secondary school period, the girls being more forward\nthan the boys at first, but as a rule less able to work as hard at a\nsomewhat later stage. The critics further complain that co-education is\ngenerally so organized that the girls' course of study is more or less\nassimilated to that of the boys, with the result that it cannot have the\nartistic and domestic character which is suitable for the majority of\ngirls. Complaint is also made that the head of a co-educational school\nfor pupils over the age of 10 is usually a man, though the health and\ncharacter of girls need the care and control of a woman vested with\ncomplete authority and responsibility. While demurring to the view that\nco-education of the sexes would be a moral panacea, the critics of the\nsystem admit that the presence of the girls would exert a refining\ninfluence, but they believe that on the whole the boys are likely to\ngain less from co-education than the girls are likely to lose by it. In\nall these matters carefully recorded observation and experiment are\nneeded, and it may well be found that co-education is best for some boys\nand for some girls, though not for all. Temperaments and dispositions\ndiffer. Some boys seem by nature more fitted for the kind of training\ngenerally given to girls; some girls are by nature fitted for the kind\nof training generally given to boys. The sex division does not mark off\ntemperaments into two sharply contrasted groups. The introduction of\ngirls into boys' secondary schools may remove or mitigate coarse\ntraditions of speech and conduct where such persist. But it would be\nunfortunate if stiff and pedantic traditions of secondary education were\nnow fixed upon girls instead of being reconsidered and modified in the\ninterests of boys also. In any case, if co-education in secondary\nschools is to yield the benefits which some anticipate from it, great\nvigilance, careful selection of pupils and very liberal staffing will be\nnecessary. Without these securities the results of co-education in\nsecondary schools might be disappointing, disquieting or even\ndisastrous.\n\n  BIBLIOGRAPHY.--Plato in the _Republic_ (v. 452-456) and _Laws_ (vii.\n  804-805) argues that women should share as far as possible in\n  education with men. Mary Wollstonecraft, _A Vindication of the Rights\n  of Women_ (1792), contends that \"both sexes ought, not only in private\n  families but in public schools, to be educated together.\" J. G.\n  Spurzheim, _Principles of Education_, pp. 272-288 (Edinburgh, 1821),\n  replies to this argument. In the Board of Education _Special Reports\n  on Educational Subjects_, vol. vi. (Wyman & Sons, 1900), J. H. Badley,\n  writing on _The Possibility of Co-education in English Preparatory and\n  other Secondary Schools_, is strongly in favour. \"In co-education ...\n  half-heartedness means failure. The more completely both sexes can be\n  brought together upon an equal and natural footing the less the\n  difficulties grow.\" In the Board of Education _Special Reports_, vol.\n  xi. (Wyman & Sons, 1902), Rev. Cecil Grant, writing on _Can American\n  Education be grafted upon the English Public School System?_ answers\n  strongly in the affirmative; co-education is recommended on eight\n  grounds:--(1) Vast economy of expenditure; (2) return to the natural\n  system; (3) discipline made easier; (4) intellectual stimulus; (5) a\n  better balance in instruction; (6) improved manners; (7) prevention of\n  extremes of masculinity or femininity; (8) a safeguard against the\n  moral danger.\n\n  _Co-education: a series of Essays_ (London, 1903), edited by Alice\n  Woods, is in favour of co-education, nine practical workers recording\n  their experience; this is one of the best books on the subject. J. H.\n  Badley's _Co-education after Fifteen: its Value and Difficulties_.\n  _Child Life_ (London, January, 1906), is candid, judicious and\n  practical. M. E. Sadler in _Reports on Secondary Education in\n  Hampshire, Derbyshire and Essex_ (1904, 1905 and 1906 respectively)\n  gives details of the curriculum of many co-educational secondary\n  schools. In the U.S. Commissioner of Education _Report for 1903_, vol.\n  i. pp. 1047-1078, Anna Tolman Smith, writing on _Co-education in the\n  Schools and Colleges of the United States_, gives an historical review\n  of the subject with bibliography (compare bibliography in _Report of\n  U.S. Commissioner of Education for 1900-1901_, pp. 1310-1325). G.\n  Stanley Hall on _Adolescence, its Psychology and its Relations to\n  Physiology, Anthropology, Sociology, Sex, Crime, Religion and\n  Education_, vol. ii. chap. xvii., on Adolescent Girls and their\n  education (New York, D. Appleton & Co., 1904), is strongly against\n  co-education during adolescence. In W. Rein's _Encyklopadisches\n  Handbuch der Padagogik_ (Langensalza, Beyer), art. \"Gemeinsame\n  Erziehung fur Knaben und Madchen,\" K. E. Palmgren is in favour of\n  co-education (vol. iii. of 2nd ed. 1905). See also W. Rein, _Uber\n  gemeinsame Erziehung von Knaben und Madchen_ (Freiburg, 1903), and\n  _Bericht uber den I. Internationalen Kongress fur Schulhygiene_\n  (Nurnberg, 1904), vol. ii. pp. 140 ff., \"Co-education in der hoheren\n  Schulen.\"     (M. E. S.)\n\n\n\n\nCOEFFETEAU, NICOLAS (1574-1623), French theologian, poet and historian,\nwas born at Saint-Calais. He entered the Dominican order and lectured on\nphilosophy at Paris, being also \"ordinary preacher\" to Henry IV., and\nafterwards ambassador at Rome. In 1606 he was vicar-general of the\ncongregation of France, and received from Marie de' Medici the revenues\nof the sees of Lombez and Saintes. He also administered the diocese of\nMetz, and was nominated to that of Marseilles in 1621, but ill-health\nobliged him here to take a coadjutor. Coeffeteau won considerable\ndistinction in the controversy against the Protestant reformers and also\nwrote a _History of Rome from Augustus to Constantine_. Many of his\ntheological writings were collected in one volume (Paris, 1622), and at\nthe time of his death in 1623 he was engaged on a translation of the New\nTestament which is still in manuscript.\n\n\n\n\nCOEHOORN, MENNO, BARON VAN (1641-1704), Dutch soldier and military\nengineer, of Swedish extraction, was born at Leeuwarden in Friesland. He\nreceived an excellent military and general education, and at the age of\nsixteen became a captain in the Dutch army. He took part in the defence\nof Maastricht in 1673 and in the siege of Grave in the same year, where\nthe small mortars (called coehorns) invented by him caused the French\ngarrison considerable trouble (Seydel, _Nachrichten uber\nFestungskriege_, Leipzig, 1818). He was made a colonel for his gallant\nconduct at the battle of Seneff (1674), and was present also at the\nbattles of Cassel (1677) and Saint Denis (1678).\n\nThe circumstances of the time and the country turned Coehoorn's\nattention to the art of fortification, and the events of the late war\nshowed him that existing methods could no longer be relied upon. His\nfirst published work, _Versterckinge de Vijfhoeks met alle syne\nBuytenwerken_ (Leeuwarden, 1682), at once aroused attention, and\ninvolved the author in a lively controversy with a rival engineer, Louys\nPaan (Leeuwarden, 1682, 1683; copies are in the library of the Dutch\nministry of war). The military authorities were much interested in this,\nand entrusted Coehoorn with the reconstruction of several fortresses in\nthe Netherlands. This task he continued throughout his career; and his\nexperience in the work made him the worthy rival of his great\ncontemporary Vauban. He formulated his ideas a little later in his chief\nwork, _Nieuwe Vestingbouw op en natte of lage horizont_, &c.\n(Leeuwarden, 1685), in which he laid down three \"systems,\" the\ncharacteristic feature of which was the multiplicity and great saliency\nof the works, which were calculated and in principle are still eminently\nsuited for flat and almost marshy sites such as those of the Low\nCountries. He borrowed many of the details from the works of his Dutch\npredecessor Freytag, of Albrecht Durer, and of the German engineer\nSpeckle, and in general he aimed rather at the adaptation of his\nprinciples to the requirements of individual sites than at producing a\ngeometrically and theoretically perfect fortress; and throughout his\ncareer he never hesitated to depart from his own rules in dealing with\nexceptional cases, such as that of Groningen. Subsequent editions of\n_Nieuwe Vestingbouw_ appeared in Dutch (1702, and frequently\nafterwards), English (London, 1705), French (Wesel, 1705), and German\n(Dusseldorf, 1709).\n\nFrom 1688 to the treaty of Ryswick Coehoorn served as a brigadier. At\nthe battle of Fleurus he greatly distinguished himself, and in 1692 he\ndefended Namur, a fortress of his own creation. Namur was taken by\nVauban; but the Dutch engineer had his revenge three years later, when\nthe place, on which in the meantime Vauban had lavished his skill, fell\nto his attack. Coehoorn became lieutenant-general and inspector-general\nof the Netherlands fortresses, and the high-German peoples as well as\nhis own countrymen honoured him. He commanded a corps in the army of the\nduke of Marlborough from 1701 to 1703, and in the constant siege warfare\nof these campaigns in the Low Countries his technical skill was of the\nhighest value. The swift reduction of the fortress of Bonn and the siege\nof Huy in 1703 were his crowning successes. At the opening of his\nfollowing campaign he was on his way to confer with Marlborough when he\ndied of apoplexy at Wijkel on the 17th of March 1704.\n\nHis \"first system\" was applied to numerous places in Holland, notably\nNijmwegen, Breda and Bergen-op-Zoom. Mannheim in Germany was also\nfortified in this way, while the \"secondsystem\" was applied to Belgrade\nand Temesvar in eastern Europe.\n\n  His son, Gosewijn Theodor van Coehoorn, wrote his life (re-edited\n  Syperstein, Leeuwarden, 1860). See also v. Zastrow, _Geschichte der\n  bestandigen Befestigung_ (Leipzig, 1828); von Brese-Winiari, _Uber\n  Entstehen und Wesen der neueren Befestigungsmethode_ (1844); Cosseran\n  de Villenoisy, _Essai historique sur la fortification_ (1869); Mandar,\n  _Architecture des forteresses_ (1801); Krayenhoff, _Verhandeling over\n  de erste versterkingsmanier van Coehoorn_ (Hague, 1823); Bosscha,\n  _Nederlandsche heldend te Land_ (Amsterdam, 1838); Dewez, _Histoire de\n  Belgique_ (Brussels, 1823); Ypey, _Narratio de rebus gestis Mennonis\n  Cohorni_ (1771); Hennert, _Dissertation sur la fortification\n  permanente_ (1795); Bohms, _Grundliche Anleitung zur Kriegsbaukunst_\n  (1776); _Axiomatas of allgemeene bekentnisse over de Vestinghbouw door\n  Menno Baron van Coehoorn, Uytgewerkt door E. W. Berg_ (MS. in Dutch\n  Ministry of War); Bousmard, _Essai general de fortification_ (1797);\n  also the article FORTIFICATION AND SIEGECRAFT.\n\n\n\n\nCOELENTERA, a group or grade of the animal kingdom, the zoological\nimportance of which has risen considerably since the time (1887) of the\npublication of the first article under that heading in the _Ency. Brit._\n(9th edit.), even though their numbers have been reduced by the\nelevation of the Sponges or Porifera to the rank of an independent\nPhylum under the title Parazoa (W. J. Sollas, 1884). For the Coelentera\nthus restricted, the term Enterocoela, in contrast to Coelomocoela (the\nold Coelomata), was suggested by E. R. Lankester (1900).\n\nFrom the more complex colonial Protozoa the Coelentera are readily\nseparated by their possession of two distinct sets of cells, with\ndiverse functions, arranged in two definite layers,--a condition found\nin no Protozoan. The old criterion by which they and other Metazoa were\nonce distinguished from Protozoa, namely, the differentiation of large\nand small sexual cells from each other and from the remaining cells of\nthe body, has been broken down by the discovery of numerous cases of\nsuch differentiation among Protozoa. The Coelentera, as contrasted with\nother Metazoa (but not Parazoa), consist of two layers of cells only, an\nouter layer or ectoderm, an inner layer or endoderm. They have hence\nbeen described as Diploblastica. In the remaining Metazoa certain cells\nare budded off at an early stage of development from one or both of the\ntwo original layers, to form later a third layer, the mesoderm, which\nlies between the ectoderm and endoderm; such forms have therefore\nreceived the name Triploblastica. At the same time it is necessary to\nobserve that it is by no means certain that the mesoderm found in\nvarious groups of Metazoa is a similar or homologous formation in all\ncases. A second essential difference between Coelentera and other\nMetazoa (except Parazoa) is that in the former all spaces in the\ninterior of the body are referable to a single cavity of endodermal\norigin, the \"gastro-vascular cavity,\" often termed the coelenteron: the\nspaces are always originally continuous with one another, and are in\nalmost every case permanently so. This single cavity and its lining\nserve apparently for all those functions (digestion, excretion,\ncirculation and often reproduction) which in more complex organisms are\ndistributed among various cavities of independent and often very diverse\norigin.\n\nIn the Coelentera the ectoderm and endoderm are set apart from one\nanother at a very early period in the life-history; generally either by\ndelamination or invagination, processes described in the article\nEMBRYOLOGY. Between these two cell-layers a mesogloea (G. C. Bourne,\n1887) is always intercalated as a secretion by one or both of them; this\nis a gelatinoid, primitively structureless lamella, which in the first\ninstance serves merely as a basal support for the cells. In many cases,\nas, for example, in the Medusae or jelly-fish, the mesogloea may be so\nthick as to constitute the chief part of the body in bulk and weight.\nThe ectoderm rarely consists of more than one layer of cells: these are\ndivisible by structure and function into nervous, muscular and secretory\ncells, supported by interstitial cells. The endoderm is generally also\nan epithelium one cell in thickness, the cells being digestive,\nsecretory and sometimes muscular. Reproductive sexual cells may be found\nin either of these two layers, according to the class and sub-class in\nquestion. The mesogloea is in itself an inert non-cellular secretion,\nbut the immigration of muscular and other cells into its substance, from\nboth ectoderm and endoderm, gives it in many cases a strong resemblance\nto the mesoderm of Triploblastica,--a resemblance which, while probably\nsuperficial, may yet serve to indicate the path of evolution of the\nmesoderm.\n\nThe Coelentera may thus be briefly defined as Metazoa which exhibit two\nembryonic cell-layers only,--the ectoderm and endoderm,--their\nbody-cavities being referable to a single cavity or coelenteron in the\nendoderm. Their position in the animal kingdom and their main\nsubdivisions may be expressed in the following table:--\n\n                  I. PROTOZOA.\n                 II. PARAZOA or PORIFERA.\n                III. METAZOA.\n                       |\n            +----------+--------------+\n            |                         |\n        Coelentera            Triploblastica\n      = Diploblastica.      (including Coelomata).\n              |\n       +------+-----------+-----------------+\n       |                  |                 |\n  Hydromedusae.       Scyphozoa.       Ctenophora.\n                          |\n                 +--------+----------+\n                 |                   |\n            Scyphomedusae.       Anthozoa.\n\nIn the above-given classification, the Scyphomedusae, formerly included\nwith the Hydromedusae as Hydrozoa, are placed nearer the Anthozoa. The\nreasons for this may be stated briefly.\n\nThe HYDROMEDUSAE are distinguished from the Scyphozoa chiefly by\nnegative characters; they have no stomodaeum, that is, no ingrowth of\nectoderm at the mouth to form an oesophagus; they have no mesenteries\n(radiating partitions) which incompletely subdivide the coelenteron; and\nthey have no concentration of digestive cells into special organs. Their\nectodermal muscles are mainly longitudinal, their endodermal muscles are\ncircularly arranged on the body-wall. Their sexual cells are (probably\nin all cases) produced from the ectoderm, and lie in those radii which\nare first accentuated in development. They typically present two\nstructural forms, the non-sexual hydroid and the sexual medusoid; in\nsuch a case there is an alternation of generations (metagenesis), the\nhydroid giving rise to the medusoid by a sexual gemmation, the medusoid\nbearing sexual cells which develop into a hydroid. In some other cases\nmedusoid develops directly from medusoid (hypogenesis), whether by\nsexual cells or by gemmation. The medusoids have a muscular velum of\nectoderm and mesogloea only.\n\nThe SCYPHOZOA have the following features in common:--They typically\nexhibit an ectodermal stomodaeum; partitions or mesenteries project into\ntheir coelenteron from the body-wall, and on these are generally\nconcentrated digestive cells (to form mesenterial filaments, phacellae\nor gastric filaments, &c.); the external musculature of the body-wall is\ncircular (except in _Cerianthus_); the internal, longitudinal; and the\nsexual cells probably always arise in the endoderm.\n\nThe SCYPHOMEDUSAE, like the Hydromedusae, typically present a\nmetagenesis, the non-sexual scyphistomoid (corresponding to the hydroid)\nalternating with the sexual medusoid. In other cases the medusoid is\nhypogenetic, medusoid producing medusoid. The sexual cells of the\nmedusoid lie in the endoderm on interradii, that is, on the second set\nof radii accentuated in the course of development. The medusoids have no\ntrue velum; in some cases a structure more or less resembling this\norgan, termed a velarium, is present, permeated by endodermal canals.\n\nThe ANTHOZOA differ from the Scyphomedusae in having no medusoid form;\nthey all more or less resemble a sea-anemone, and may be termed\nactinioid. They are (with rare exceptions, probably secondarily\nacquired) hypogenetic, the offspring resembling the parent, and both\nbeing sexual. The sexual cells are borne on the mesenteries in positions\nirrespective of obvious developmental radii.\n\nThe CTENOPHORA are so aberrant in structure that it has been proposed to\nseparate them from the Coelentera altogether: they are, however,\ntheoretically deducible from an ancestor common to other Coelentera, but\ntheir extreme specialization precludes the idea of any close\nrelationship with the rest.\n\nAs regards the other three groups, however, it is easy to conceive of\nthem as derived from an ancestor, represented to-day to some extent by\nthe planula-larva, which was Coelenterate in so far as it was composed\nof an ectoderm and endoderm, and had an internal digestive cavity (I. of\nthe table).\n\nAt the point of divergence between Scyphozoa and Hydromedusae (II. of\nthe table of hypothetical descent), we may conceive of its descendant as\ntentaculate, capable of either floating (swimming) or fixation at will\nlike Lucernaria to-day; and exhibiting incipient differentiation of\nmyoepithelial cells (formerly termed neuro-muscular cells). At the\nparting of the ways which led, on the one hand, to modern Scyphomedusae,\non the other to Anthozoa (III.), it is probable that the common ancestor\nwas marked by incipient mesenteries and by the limitation of the sexual\ncells to endoderm. The lines of descent--II. to Hydromedusae, and III.\nto Scyphomedusae--represent periods during which the hypothetical\nancestors II. and III., capable of either locomotion or fixation at\nwill, were either differentiated into alternating generations of fixed\nsterile nutritive hydroids (scyphistomoids) and locomotor sexual\nmedusoids, or abandoned the power of fixation in hypogenetic cases.\nDuring the period represented by the line of descent--III. to\nAnthozoa--this group abandoned its power of adult locomotion by\nswimming. During these periods were also attained those less important\nstructural characters which these three groups present to-day.\n      (G. H. Fo.)\n\n  Hydromedusae.   Scyphomedusae.  Anthozoa.\n           \\               |         \/\n            \\              |        \/\n             \\             |       \/\n              \\            |      \/\n               \\           |     \/\n                \\          |    \/\n                 \\         |   \/\n                  \\        |  \/\n                   \\       | \/\n                    \\      |\/\n                     \\    III.\n                      \\   \/\n     Ctenophora?       \\ \/\n             \\         II.\n              \\         |\n               \\        |\n                \\       |\n                 \\      |\n                  \\     |\n                   \\    |\n                    \\   |\n                     \\  |\n                      \\ |\n                       \\|\n                        I.\n\n\n\n\nCOELLO, ALONSO SANCHEZ (1515-1590), Spanish painter, according to some\nauthorities a native of Portugal, was born, according to others, at\nBenifacio, near the city of Valencia. He studied many years in Italy;\nand returning to Spain in 1541 he settled at Madrid, and worked on\nreligious themes for most of the palaces and larger churches. He was a\nfollower of Titian, and, like him, excelled in portraits and single\nfigures, elaborating the textures of his armours, draperies, and such\naccessories in a manner so masterly as strongly to influence Velazquez\nin his treatment of like objects. Many of his pictures were destroyed in\nthe fires that consumed the Madrid and Prado palaces, but many good\nexamples are yet extant, among which may be noted the portraits of the\ninfantes Carlos and Isabella, now in the Madrid gallery, and the St\nSebastian painted in the church of San Geronimo, also in Madrid. Coello\nleft a daughter, Isabella Sanchez, who studied under him, and painted\nexcellent portraits.\n\n\n\n\nCOELLO, ANTONIO (1610?-1652), Spanish dramatist and poet, was born at\nMadrid about the beginning of the 17th century. He entered the household\nof the duke de Albuquerque, and after some years of service in the army\nreceived the order of Santiago in 1648. He was a favourite of Philip\nIV., who is reported to have collaborated with him; this rumour is not\nconfirmed, but there is ample proof of Coello's collaboration with\nCalderon, Rojas Zorrilla, Solis and Velez de Guevara, the most\ndistinguished dramatists of the age. The best of his original plays,\n_Los Empenos de seis horas_, has been wrongly ascribed to Calderon; it\nwas adapted by Samuel Tuke, under the title of _The Adventures of five\nHours_, and was described by Pepys as superior to _Othello_. It is an\nexcellent example of stagecraft and animated dialogue. Coello died on\nthe 20th of October 1652, shortly after his nomination to a post in the\nhousehold of Philip IV.\n\n\n\n\nCOELOM AND SEROUS MEMBRANES. In human anatomy the body-cavity or coelom\n(Gr. [Greek: koilos], hollow) is divided into the _pericardium_, the two\n_pleurae_, the _peritoneum_ and the two _tunicae vaginales_.\n\nThe _pericardium_ is a closed sac which occupies the central part of the\nthorax and contains the heart. Like all the serous membranes it has a\nvisceral and a parietal layer, the former of which is closely applied to\nthe heart and consists of endothelial cells with a slight fibrous\nbacking: to it is due the glossy appearance of a freshly removed heart.\nThe parietal layer is double; externally there is a strong fibrous\nprotective coat which is continuous with the other fibrous structures in\nthe neighbourhood, especially with the sheaths of the great vessels at\nthe root of the heart, with prolongations of the fascia of the neck, and\nwith the central tendon of the diaphragm, while internally is the serous\nlayer which is reflected from the surface of the heart, where the great\nvessels enter, so that everywhere the two layers of the serous membrane\nare in contact, and the only thing within the cavity is a drop or two of\nthe fluid secreted by the serous walls. When the parietal layer is laid\nopen and the heart removed by cutting through the great vessels, it will\nbe seen that there are two lines of reflection of the serous layer, one\ncommon to the aorta and pulmonary artery, the other to all the pulmonary\nveins and the two venae cavae.\n\nThe _pleurae_ very closely resemble the pericardium except that the\nfibrous outer coat of the parietal layer is not nearly as strong; it is\nclosely attached to the inner surface of the chest walls and mesially to\nthe outer layer of the pericardium; above it is thickened by a fibrous\ncontribution from the scalene muscles, and this forms the _dome of the\npleura_ which fits into the concavity of the first rib and contains the\napex of the lung. The reflection of the serous layer of the pleura, from\nthe parietal to the visceral part, takes place at the root of the lung,\nwhere the great vessels enter, and continues for some distance below\nthis as the _ligamentum latum pulmonis_. The upper limit of the pleural\ncavity reaches about half an inch above the inner third of the clavicle,\nwhile, below, it may be marked out by a line drawn from the twelfth\nthoracic spine to the tenth rib in the mid axillary line, the eighth rib\nin the nipple line, and the sixth rib at its junction with the sternum.\nThere is probably very little difference in the lower level of the\npleurae on the two sides.\n\n[Illustration: FIG. 1.--Diagram of vertical median section of Abdomen.\n\n  A, Aorta.          D, Duodenum.\n  P, Pancreas.       B, Bladder.\n  I, Intestine.      St, Stomach.\n  R, Rectum.         C, Colon.\n  L, Liver.          V, Vagina.\n\n(The fine dots represent the great sac of the peritoneum, the coarse\ndots the lesser sac.)]\n\nThe _peritoneum_ is a more extensive and complicated membrane than\neither the pericardium or pleura; it surrounds the abdominal and pelvic\nviscera, and, like the other sacs, has a parietal and visceral layer.\nThe line of reflection of these, though a continuous one, is very\ntortuous. The peritoneum consists of a _greater_ and _lesser sac_ which\ncommunicate through an opening known as the _foramen of Winslow_, and\nthe most satisfactory way of understanding these is to follow the\nreflections first in a vertical median (sagittal) section and then in a\nhorizontal one, the body being supposed to be in the upright position.\nIf a median sagittal section be studied first, and a start be made at\nthe umbilicus (see fig. 1), the parietal peritoneum is seen to run\nupward, lining the anterior abdominal wall, and then to pass along the\nunder surface of the diaphragm till its posterior third is reached; here\nthere is a reflection on to the liver (L), forming the anterior layer of\nthe _coronary ligament_ of that viscus, while the membrane now becomes\nvisceral and envelops the front of the liver as far back as the\ntransverse fissure on its lower surface; here it is reflected on to the\nstomach (St) forming the anterior layer of the _gastro-hepatic_ or\n_lesser omentum_. It now covers the front of the stomach, and at the\nlower border runs down as the anterior layer of an apron-like fold, the\n_great omentum_, which in some cases reaches as low as the pubes; then\nit turns up again as the posterior or fourth layer of the great omentum\nuntil the transverse colon (C) is reached, the posterior surface of\nwhich it covers and is reflected, as the posterior layer of the\n_transverse meso-colon_, to the lower part of the pancreas (P); after\nthis it turns down and covers the anterior surface of the third part of\nthe duodenum (D) till the posterior wall of the abdomen is reached, from\nwhich it is reflected on to the small intestine (I) as the anterior\nlayer of the _mesentery_, a fold varying from 5 to 8 in. between its\nattachments. After surrounding the small intestine it becomes the\nposterior layer of the mesentery and so again reaches the posterior\nabdominal wall, down which it runs until the rectum (R) is reached. The\nanterior surface of this tube is covered by peritoneum to a point about\n3 in. from the anus, where it is reflected on to the uterus and vagina\n(V) in the female and then on to the bladder (B); in the male, on the\nother hand, the reflection is directly from the rectum to the bladder.\nAt the apex of the bladder, after covering the upper surface of that\norgan, it is lifted off by the urachus and runs up the anterior\nabdominal wall to the umbilicus, from which the start was made. All this\nis the greater sac. The tracing of the lesser sac may be conveniently\nstarted at the transverse fissure of the liver, whence the membrane runs\ndown to the stomach (St) as the posterior layer of the lesser omentum,\nlines the posterior surface of the stomach, passes down as the second\nlayer of the great omentum and up again as the third layer, covers the\nanterior surface of the transverse colon (C) and then reaches the\npancreas (P) as the anterior layer of the transverse mesocolon. After\nthis it covers the front of the pancreas and in the middle line of the\nbody runs up below the diaphragm to within an inch of the anterior layer\nof the coronary ligament of the liver; here it is reflected on to the\ntop of the Spigelian lobe of the liver to form the posterior layer of\nthe coronary ligament, covers the whole Spigelian lobe, and so reaches\nthe transverse fissure, the starting-point.\n\n[Illustration: FIG. 2.--Diagram of Horizontal Section through upper part\nof 1st Lumbar Vertebra.\n\n  A,   Aorta.         H.A, Hepatic Artery.\n  Sp,  Spleen.        K,   Kidney.\n  B.D, Bile duct.     L,   Liver.\n  V.C, Vena Cava.     St,  Stomach.\n  P,   Pancreas.      P.V, Portal Vein.\n\nThe dotting of the peritoneum is as in fig. 1.]\n\nThis section, therefore, shows two completely closed sacs without any\nvisible communication. In the female, however, the great sac is not\nabsolutely closed, for the Fallopian tubes open into it by their minute\n_ostia abdominalia_, while at the other ends they communicate with the\ncavity of the uterus and so with the vagina and exterior.\n\nA horizontal section through the upper part of the first lumbar vertebra\nwill, if a fortunate one (see fig. 2), pass through the foramen of\nWinslow and show the communication of the two sacs. A starting-point may\nbe made from the mid-ventral line and the parietal peritoneum traced\nround the left side of the body wall until the outer edge of the left\nkidney (K) is reached; here it passes in front of the kidney and is soon\nreflected off on to the spleen, which it nearly surrounds; just before\nit reaches the hilum of that organ, where the vessels enter, it is\nreflected on to the front of the stomach (St), forming the anterior\nlayer of the _gastro-splenic omentum_; it soon reaches the lesser\ncurvature of the stomach and then becomes the anterior layer of the\nlesser omentum, which continues until the bile duct (B.D) and portal\nvein (P.V) are reached at its right free extremity; here it turns\ncompletely round these structures and runs to the left again, as the\nposterior layer of the lesser omentum, behind the stomach (St) and then\nto the spleen (Sp) as the posterior layer of the gastro-splenic omentum.\nFrom the spleen it runs to the right once more, in front of the pancreas\n(P), until the inferior vena cava (V.C) is reached, and this point is\njust behind the portal vein and is the place where the lesser and\ngreater sacs communicate, known as the foramen of Winslow. From this\nopening the lesser sac runs to the left, while all the rest of the\nperitoneal cavity in the section is greater sac. From the front of the\nvena cava the parietal peritoneum passes in front of the right kidney\n(K) and round the right abdominal wall to the mid-ventral line. The\nright part of this section is filled by the liver (L), which is\ncompletely surrounded by a visceral layer of peritoneum, and no\nreflection is usually seen at this level between it and the parietal\nlayer. Some of the viscera, such as the kidneys and pancreas, are\nretro-peritoneal; others, such as the small intestines and transverse\ncolon, are surrounded, except at one point where they are attached to\nthe dorsal wall by a _mesentery_ or _mesocolon_ as the reflections are\ncalled; others again are completely surrounded, and of these the caecum\nis an example; while some, like the liver and bladder, have large\nuncovered areas, and the reflections of the membrane form ligaments\nwhich allow considerable freedom of movement.\n\nThe _tunica vaginalis_ is the remains of a process of the peritoneum\n(_processus vaginalis_) which descends into the scrotum during foetal\nlife some little time before the testis itself descends. After the\ndescent of the testis the upper part usually becomes obliterated, while\nthe lower part forms a serous sac which nearly surrounds the testis, but\ndoes not quite do so. Posteriorly the epididymis is in close contact\nwith the testis, and here the visceral layer is not in contact; there\nis, however, a pocket called the _digital fossa_ which squeezes in from\nthe outer side between the testis and epididymis. The parietal layer\nlines the inner wall of its own side of the scrotum.\n\n  For a full description of the topography of the serous membranes see\n  any of the standard text-books of anatomy, by Gray, Quain, Cunningham\n  or Macalister. Special details will be found in Sir F. Treves'\n  _Anatomy of the Intestinal Canal and Peritoneum_ (London, 1885); C. B.\n  Lockwood, _Hunterian Lectures on Hernia_ (London, 1889); C. Addison,\n  \"Topographical Anatomy of the Abdominal Viscera in Man,\" _Jour.\n  Anat._, vols. 34, 35; F. Dixon and A. Birmingham, \"Peritoneum of the\n  Pelvic Cavity,\" _Jour. Anat._ vol. 34, p. 127; W. Waldeyer, \"Das\n  Becken\" (1899), and \"Topographical Sketch of the Lateral Wall of the\n  Pelvic Cavity,\" _Jour. Anat._ vol. 32; B. Moynihan, _Retroperitoneal\n  Hernia_ (London, 1899). A complete bibliography of the subject up to\n  1895 will be found in _Quain's Anatomy_, vol. 3, part 4, p. 69.\n\n[Illustration: After Young and Robinson, Cunningham's _Text-Book of\nAnatomy_.\n\nFIG. 3.--Diagram of Longitudinal Section, showing the different areas of\nthe Blastodermic Vesicle.\n\n  _a_, Pericardium.                _e_, Placental area.\n  _b_, Bucco-pharyngeal area.      _d_, Entoderm.\n  _c_, Ectoderm.]\n\n_Embryology._--As the mesoderm is gradually spreading over the embryo it\nsplits into two layers, the outer of which is known as the\n_somatopleure_ and lines the parietal or ectodermal wall, while the\ninner lines the entoderm and is called the _splanchnopleure_; between\nthe two is the coelom. The pericardial area is early differentiated from\nthe rest of the coelom and at first lies in front of the neural and\nbucco-pharyngeal area; here the mesoderm stretches right across the\nmid-line, which it does not in front and behind. As the head fold of the\nembryo is formed the pericardium is gradually turned right over, so that\nthe dorsal side becomes the ventral and the anterior limit the\nposterior; this will be evident on referring to the two accompanying\ndiagrams.\n\n[Illustration: After Young and Robinson, Cunningham's _Text-Book of\nAnatomy_.\n\nFIG. 4.--Diagram of a Developing Ovum, seen in Longitudinal Section.\n\n  _f_, Spinal cord.                     _i_, Brain.\n  _g_, Notochord.                       _k_, Extra embryonic coelom.\n  _h_, Dorsal wall of alimentary canal.      Other numbers as in fig. 3.]\n\nThe two primitive aortae lie at first in the ventral wall of the\npericardium, but with the folding over they come to lie in the dorsal\nwall and gradually bulge into the cavity as they coalesce to form the\nheart, so that the heart drops into the dorsal side of the pericardium\nand draws down a fold of the membrane called the _dorsal mesocardium_.\nIn mammals A. Robinson (_Jour. Anat. and Phys._, xxxvii. 1) has shown\nthat no ventral mesocardium exists, though in more lowly vertebrates it\nis present. Laterally the pericardial cavity communicates with the\ngeneral cavity of the coelom, but with the growth of the Cuvierian ducts\n(see development of veins) these communications disappear. Originally\nthe mesocardium runs the whole length of the pericardium from before\nbackward, but later on the middle part becomes obliterated, and so the\ntwo separate reflections from the parietal to the visceral layer,\nalready noticed, are accounted for.\n\nJust behind the pericardium and in front of the umbilicus, which at\nfirst are close together, the mesoderm forms a mass which is called the\n_septum transversum_, and into this the developing lungs push bag-like\nprotrusions of the coelom, consisting of visceral and parietal layers,\nand these eventually lose their connexion with the rest of the coelom,\nas the diaphragm develops, and become the pleural cavities. After the\npericardium and pleurae have been separated off the remainder of the\ncoelom becomes the peritoneum. At first the stomach and intestine form a\nstraight tube, which is connected to the dorsum of the embryo by a\n_dorsal mesentery_ and to the mid-ventral wall in front of the umbilicus\nby a _ventral mesentery_. Into the ventral mesentery the liver grows as\ndiverticula from the duodenum, so that some of the mesentery remains as\nthe _falciform ligament_ of the liver and some as the lesser omentum.\nInto the dorsal mesentery the pancreas grows, also as diverticula, from\nthe duodenum, while the spleen is developed from the mesoderm contained\nin the same fold. As the stomach turns over so that its left side\nbecomes ventral, the dorsal mesentery attached to it becomes pulled out,\nin such a way that part of it forms the great omentum and part the\ngastro-splenic omentum. After the caecum is formed as a diverticulum\nfrom the intestine it is situated close to the liver and gradually\ntravels down into the right iliac fossa. This passage to the right is\naccompanied by a throwing over of the duodenal loop to the right, so\nthat the right side of its mesentery becomes pressed against the dorsal\nwall of the abdomen and obliterated. This accounts for the fact that the\npancreas and duodenum are only covered by peritoneum on their anterior\nsurfaces in man. The formation of the lesser sac is due to the turning\nover of the stomach to the right, with the result that a cave, known\nsometimes as the _bursa omentalis_, is formed behind it. Originally, of\ncourse, the whole colon had a _dorsal mesocolon_ continuous with the\nmesentery, but in the region of the ascending and descending colon this\nusually disappears and these parts of the gut are uncovered by\nperitoneum posteriorly. The transverse mesocolon persists and at first\nis quite free from the great omentum, but later, in man, the two\nstructures fuse[1] and the fourth layer of the great omentum becomes\ncontinuous with the posterior layer of the transverse mesocolon.\n\n  For further details see Quain's _Anatomy_ (London, 1908).\n\n_Comparative Anatomy._--In the Amphioxus the coelom is developed in the\nembryo as a series of bilateral pouches, called _enterocoeles_, from the\nsides of the alimentary canal; these are therefore entodermal in their\norigin, as in Sagitta and the Echinodermata among the invertebrates. In\nthe adult the development of the atrium causes a considerable reduction\nof the coelom, represented by two dorsal coelomic canals communicating\nwith a ventral canal by means of branchial canals which run down the\nouter side of the primary gill bars. Into the dorsal canals the\nnephridia open. In the intestinal region the coelom is only present on\nthe left side.\n\nIn the higher vertebrates (_Craniata_) the coelom is developed by a\nsplitting of the mesoderm into two layers, and a pericardium is\nconstricted off from the general cavity. In all cases the ova burst into\nthe coelom before making their way to the exterior, and in some cases,\n_e.g._ amphioxus, lamprey (Cyclostomata), eels and mud-fish (Dipnoi),\nthe sperm cells do so too. The Cyclostomata have a pair of _genital\npores_ which lead from the coelom into the urino-genital sinus, and so\nto the exterior.\n\nIn the Elasmobranch fish there is a _pericardio-peritoneal canal_\nforming a communication between these two parts of the coelom; also a\nlarge common opening for the two oviducts in the region of the liver,\nand two openings, called _abdominal pores_, on to the surface close to\nthe cloacal aperture. In the Teleostomi (Teleostean and Ganoid fish)\nabdominal pores are rare, but in most Teleostei (bony fish) the ova pass\ndirectly down oviducts, as they do in Arthropods, without entering the\nperitoneal cavity; there is little doubt, however, that these oviducts\nare originally coelomic in origin. In the Dipnoi (mud-fish) abdominal\npores are found, and probably serve as a passage for the sperm cells,\nsince there are no vasa deferentia. In fishes a complete dorsal\nmesentery is seldom found in the adult; in many cases it only remains as\na tube surrounding the vessels passing to the alimentary canal.\n\nIn the Amphibia, Reptilia and Aves, one cavity acts as pleura and\nperitoneum, though in the latter the lungs are not completely surrounded\nby a serous membrane. In many lizards the comparatively straight\nintestine, with its continuous dorsal mesentery and ventral mesentery in\nthe anterior part of the abdomen, is very like a stage in the\ndevelopment of the human and other mammalian embryos. In the mammalia\nthe diaphragm is complete (see DIAPHRAGM) and divides the\npleuro-peritoneal cavity into its two constituent parts. In the lower\nmammals the derivatives of the original dorsal mesentery do not undergo\nas much fusion and obliteration as they do in adult man; the ascending\nand descending mesocolon is retained, and the transverse mesocolon\ncontracts no adhesion to the great omentum. It is a common thing,\nhowever, to find a fenestrated arrangement of the great omentum which\nshows that its layers have been completely obliterated in many places.\n\nIn those animals, such as the rabbit, in which the tests are sometimes\nin the scrotum and sometimes in the abdomen, the communication between\nthe peritoneum and the tunica vaginalis remains throughout life.\n\n  For further details and literature up to 1902, see R. Wiedersheim's\n  _Vergleichende Anatomie der Wirbeltiere_ (Jena, 1902).     (F. G. P.)\n\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n  [1] Some authorities hold that this alteration is not brought about\n    by fusion, but by a dragging away of the posterior layer of the great\n    omentum from the dorsal wall of the abdomen.\n\n\n\n\nCOEN, JAN PIETERSZOON (1587-1630), fourth governor-general of the Dutch\nEast Indies, was born at Hoorn, and spent his youth at Rome in the house\nof the famous merchants the Piscatori. In 1607 he sailed from Amsterdam\nto the Indies as second commercial agent, and remained away four years.\nHe had proved so capable that in 1612 he was sent out a second time at\nthe head of a trading expedition. In the following year he was made a\ncouncillor and director-general of the East Indian trade. Afterwards he\nbecame president at Bantam, and on the 31st of October 1617 he was\npromoted in succession to Laurens Reaal to the post of governor-general.\nTo his vigour and intrepidity the Dutch in no small measure owed the\npreservation and establishment of their empire in the East. He took and\ndestroyed Jacatra, and founded on its ruins the capital of the Dutch\nEast Indies, to which he gave the name of Batavia. In 1622 Coen obtained\nleave to resign his post and return to Holland, but in his absence great\ndifficulties had arisen with the English at Amboina (the so-called\nmassacre of Amboina), and in 1627 under pressure from the directors of\nthe East India Company he again returned as governor-general to Batavia.\nIn 1629 he was able to beat off a formidable attack of the sultan of\nMataram, sometimes styled emperor of Java, upon Batavia. He died the\nfollowing year.\n\n\n\n\nCOENACULUM, the term applied to the eating-room of a Roman house in\nwhich the supper (_coena_) or latest meal was taken. It was sometimes\nplaced in an upper storey and reached by an external staircase. The Last\nSupper in the New Testament was taken in the Coenaculum, the \"large\nupper room\" cited in St Mark (xiv. 15) and St Luke (xxii. 12).\n\n\n\n\nCOENWULF (d. 821), king of Mercia, succeeded to the throne in 796, on\nthe death of Ecgfrith, son of Offa. His succession is somewhat\nremarkable, as his direct ancestors do not seem to have held the throne\nfor six generations. In 798 he invaded Kent, deposed and imprisoned\nEadberht Praen, and made his own brother Cuthred king. Cuthred reigned in\nKent from 798 to 807, when he died, and Coenwulf seems to have taken\nKent into his own hands. It was during this reign that the archbishopric\nof Lichfield was abolished, probably before 803, as the Hygeberht who\nsigned as an abbot at the council of Cloveshoe in that year was\npresumably the former archbishop. Coenwulf appears from the charters\nto have quarrelled with Wulfred of Canterbury, who was consecrated in\n806, and the dispute continued for several years. It was probably only\nsettled at Cloveshoe in 825, when the lawsuit of Cwoenthryth, daughter\nand heiress of Coenwulf, with Wulfred was terminated. Coenwulf may\nhave instigated the raid of Aethelmund, earl of the Hwicce, upon the\naccession of Ecgberht. He died in 821, and was succeeded by his brother\nCeolwulf I.\n\n  See Earle and Plummer's edition of the _Anglo-Saxon Chronicle_, 796,\n  819 (Oxford, 1892); W. de G. Birch, _Cartularium Saxonicum_, 378\n  (London, 1885-1893).     (F. G. M. B.)\n\n\n\n\nCOERCION (from Lat. _coercere_, to restrain), an application of moral or\nphysical compulsion by which a person is forced to do or refrain from\ndoing some act or set of acts apart from his own voluntary motion. Where\nthe coercion is direct or positive, _i.e._ where the person is compelled\nby physical force to do an act contrary to his will,--for example, when\na man is compelled to join a rebel army, and to serve as a soldier under\nthreats of death,--his act is not legally a crime. Where the coercion is\nimplied, as when a person is legally under subjection to another, the\nperson coerced, having no will on the subject, is not responsible. But\nthis principle is applied only within narrow limits, and does not extend\nto the command of a superior to an inferior; of a parent to a child; of\na master to his servant or a principal to his agent. Where, however, a\nmarried woman commits a crime in the presence of her husband, she is\ngenerally presumed to have acted by his coercion, and to be entitled to\nacquittal, but this presumption does not extend to grave crimes, nor to\nthose in which the principal part may be supposed to be taken by the\nwoman, such as keeping a brothel. In civil matters, such as the making\nof a contract, where the law requires the free assent of the person who\nundertakes the obligation, coercion is a ground for invalidating the\ninstrument.\n\nThe term \"coercion\" is inevitably somewhat ambiguous, and depends on the\ncircumstances of the case. In a political sense, the application of the\nCrimes Act of 1887 to Ireland was called \"coercion\" by those opposed to\nthe English Unionist party and government, as being special legislation\ndiffering from the ordinary law applicable in the United Kingdom.\n\n\n\n\nCOEUR, JACQUES (_c._ 1395-1456), founder of the trade between France\nand the Levant, was born at Bourges, in which city his father, Pierre\nCoeur, was a rich merchant. Jacques is first heard of about 1418, when\nhe married Macee de Leodepart, daughter of Lambert de Leodepart, an\ninfluential citizen, provost of Bourges, and a former valet of John,\nduke of Berry. About 1429 he formed a commercial partnership with two\nbrothers named Godard; and in 1432 he was at Damascus, buying and\nbartering, and transporting the wares of the Levant--gall-nuts, wools\nand silks, goats' hair, brocades and carpets--to the interior of France\nby way of Narbonne. In the same year he established himself at\nMontpellier, and there began those gigantic operations which have made\nhim illustrious among financiers. Details are wanting; but it is certain\nthat in a few years he placed his country in a position to contend not\nunsuccessfully with the great trading republics of Italy, and acquired\nsuch reputation as to be able, mere trader as he was, to render material\nassistance to the knights of Rhodes and to Venice herself.\n\nIn 1436 Coeur was summoned to Paris by Charles VII., and made master\nof the mint that had been established in that city. The post was of vast\nimportance, and the duties onerous. The country was deluged with the\nbase moneys of three reigns, charged with superscriptions both French\nand English, and Charles had determined on a sweeping reform. In this\ndesign he was ably seconded by the merchant, who, in fact, inspired or\nprepared all the ordinances concerning the coinage of France issued\nbetween 1435 and 1451. In 1438 he was made steward of the royal\nexpenditure; in 1441 he and his family were ennobled by letters patent.\nIn 1444 he was sent as one of the royal commissioners to preside over\nthe new parlement of Languedoc, a dignity he bore till the day of his\ndisgrace. In 1445 his agents in the East negotiated a treaty between the\nsultan of Egypt and the knights of Rhodes; and in 1447, at his instance,\nJean de Village, his nephew by marriage, was charged with a mission to\nEgypt. The results were most important; concessions were obtained which\ngreatly improved the position of the French consuls in the Levant, and\nthat influence in the East was thereby founded which, though often\ninterrupted, was for several centuries a chief commercial glory of\nFrance. In the same year Coeur assisted in an embassy to Amadeus\nVIII., former duke of Savoy, who had been chosen pope as Felix V. by the\ncouncil of Basel; and in 1448 he represented the French king at the\ncourt of Pope Nicholas V., and was able to arrange an agreement between\nNicholas and Amadeus, and so to end the papal schism. Nicholas treated\nhim with the utmost distinction, lodged him in the papal palace, and\ngave him a special licence to traffic with the infidels. From about this\ntime he made large advances to Charles for carrying on his wars; and in\n1449, after fighting at the king's side through the campaign, he entered\nRouen in his train.\n\nAt this moment the great trader's glory was at its height. He had\nrepresented France in three embassies, and had supplied the sinews of\nthat war which had ousted the English from Normandy. He was invested\nwith various offices of dignity, and possessed the most colossal fortune\nthat had ever been amassed by a private Frenchman. The sea was covered\nwith his ships; he had 300 factors in his employ, and houses of business\nin all the chief cities of France. He had built houses and chapels, and\nhad founded colleges in Paris, at Montpellier and at Bourges. The house\nat Bourges (see HOUSE, Plate II. figs. 7 and 8) was of exceptional\nmagnificence, and remains to-day one of the finest monuments of the\nmiddle ages in France. He also built there the sacristy of the cathedral\nand a sepulchral chapel for his family. His brother Nicholas was made\nbishop of Lucon, his sister married Jean Bochetel, the king's secretary,\nhis daughter married the son of the viscount of Bourges, and his son\nJean became archbishop of Bourges. But Coeur's gigantic monopoly\ncaused his ruin. Dealing in everything, money and arms, peltry and\njewels, brocades and woollens--a broker, a banker, a farmer--he had\nabsorbed the trade of the country, and merchants complained they could\nmake no gains on account of \"that Jacquet.\" He had lent money to needy\ncourtiers, to members of the royal family, and to the king himself, and\nhis debtors, jealous of his wealth, were eager for a chance to cause his\noverthrow.\n\nIn February 1450 Agnes Sorel, the king's mistress, suddenly died.\nEighteen months later it was rumoured that she had been poisoned, and a\nlady of the court who owed money to Jacques Coeur, Jeanne de Vendome,\nwife of Francois de Montberon, and an Italian, Jacques Colonna, formally\naccused him of having poisoned her. There was not even a pretext for\nsuch a charge, but for this and other alleged crimes the king, on the\n31st of July 1451, gave orders for his arrest and for the seizure of his\ngoods, reserving to himself a large sum of money for the war in Guienne.\nCommissioners extraordinary, the merchant's declared enemies, were\nchosen to conduct the trial, and an inquiry began, the judges in which\nwere either the prisoner's debtors or the holders of his forfeited\nestates. He was accused of having paid French gold and ingots to the\ninfidels, of coining light money, of kidnapping oarsmen for his galleys,\nof sending back a Christian slave who had taken sanctuary on board one\nof his ships, and of committing frauds and exactions in Languedoc to the\nking's prejudice. He defended himself with all the energy of his nature.\nHis innocence was manifest; but a conviction was necessary, and in spite\nof strenuous efforts on the part of his friends, after twenty-two\nmonths of confinement in five prisons, he was condemned to do public\npenance for his fault, to pay the king a sum equal to about L1,000,000\nof modern money, and to remain a prisoner till full satisfaction had\nbeen obtained; his sentence also embraced confiscation of all his\nproperty, and exile during royal pleasure. On the 5th of June 1453 the\nsentence took effect; at Poitiers the shameful form of making honourable\namends was gone through; and for nearly three years nothing is known of\nhim. It is probable that he remained in prison; it is certain that his\nvast possessions were distributed among the intimates of Charles.\n\nIn 1455 Jacques Coeur, wherever confined, contrived to escape into\nProvence. He was pursued; but a party, headed by Jean de Village and two\nof his old factors, carried him off to Tarascon, whence, by way of\nMarseilles, Nice and Pisa, he managed to reach Rome. He was honourably\nand joyfully received by Nicholas V., who was fitting out an expedition\nagainst the Turks. On the death of Nicholas, Calixtus III. continued his\nwork, and named his guest captain of a fleet of sixteen galleys sent to\nthe relief of Rhodes. Coeur set out on this expedition, but was taken\nill at Chios, and died there on the 25th of November 1456. After his\ndeath Charles VII. showed himself well disposed to the family, and\nallowed Jacques Coeur's sons to come into possession of whatever was\nleft of their father's wealth.\n\n  See the admirable monograph of Pierre Clement, _Jacques Coeur et\n  Charles VII_ (1858, 2nd ed. 1874); A. Valet de Viriville, _Charles\n  Sept et son epoque_ (3 vols., 1862-1865); and Louisa Costello,\n  _Jacques Coeur, the French Argonaut_ (London, 1847).\n\n\n\n\nCOEUR D'ALENE (\"awl-heart,\" the French translation of the native name\n_skitswish_), a tribe of North American Indians of Salishan stock. The\nname is said to have been originally that of a chief noted for his\ncruelty. The tribe has given its name to a lake, river and range of\nmountains in Idaho, where on a reservation the survivors, some 400, are\nsettled.\n\n\n\n\nCOFFEE (Fr: _cafe_, Ger. _Kaffee_). This important and valuable article\nof food is the produce chiefly of _Coffea arabica_, a Rubiaceous plant\nindigenous to Abyssinia, which, however, as cultivated originally,\nspread outwards from the southern parts of Arabia. The name is probably\nderived from the Arabic K'h[=a]wah, although by some it has been traced\nto Kaffa, a province in Abyssinia, in which the tree grows wild.\n\n[Illustration: FIG. 1.--Branch of _Coffea arabica_.]\n\nThe genus _Coffea_, to which the common coffee tree belongs, contains\nabout 25 species in the tropics of the Old World, mainly African.\nBesides being found wild in Abyssinia, the common coffee plant appears\nto be widely disseminated in Africa, occurring wild in the Mozambique\ndistrict, on the shores of the Victoria Nyanza, and in Angola on the\nwest coast. The coffee leaf disease in Ceylon brought into prominence\nLiberian coffee (_C. liberica_), a native of the west coast of Africa,\nnow extensively grown in several parts of the world. Other species of\neconomic importance are Sierra Leone coffee (_C. stenophylla_) and Congo\ncoffee (_C. robusta_), both of which have been introduced into and are\ncultivated on a small scale in various parts of the tropics. _C.\nexcelsa_ is another species of considerable promise.\n\nThe common Arabian coffee shrub is an evergreen plant, which under\nnatural conditions grows to a height of from 18 to 20 ft., with\noblong-ovate, acuminate, smooth and shining leaves, measuring about 6\nin. in length by 2-1\/2 wide. Its flowers, which are produced in dense\nclusters in the axils of the leaves, have a five-toothed calyx, a\ntubular five-parted corolla, five stamens and a single bifid style. The\nflowers are pure white in colour, with a rich fragrant odour, and the\nplants in blossom have a lovely and attractive appearance, but the bloom\nis very evanescent. The fruit is a fleshy berry, having the appearance\nand size of a small cherry, and as it ripens it assumes a dark red\ncolour. Each fruit contains two seeds embedded in a yellowish pulp, and\nthe seeds are enclosed in a thin membranous endocarp (the \"parchment\").\nBetween each seed and the parchment is a delicate covering called the\n\"silver skin.\" The seeds which constitute the raw coffee \"beans\" of\ncommerce are plano-convex in form, the flat surfaces which are laid\nagainst each other within the berry having a longitudinal furrow or\ngroove. When only one seed is developed in a fruit it is not flattened\non one side, but circular in cross section. Such seeds form \"pea-berry\"\ncoffee.\n\nThe seeds are of a soft, semi-translucent, bluish or greenish colour,\nhard and tough in texture. The regions best adapted for the cultivation\nof coffee are well-watered mountain <DW72>s at an elevation ranging from\n1000 to 4000 ft. above sea-level, within the tropics, and possessing a\nmean annual temperature of about 65 deg. to 70 deg. F.\n\nThe Liberian coffee plant (_C. liberica_) has larger leaves, flowers and\nfruits, and is of a more robust and hardy constitution, than Arabian\ncoffee. The seeds yield a highly aromatic and well-flavoured coffee (but\nby no means equal to Arabian), and the plant is very prolific and yields\nheavy crops. Liberian coffee grows, moreover, at low altitudes, and\nflourishes in many situations unsuitable to the Arabian coffee. It grows\nwild in great abundance along the whole of the Guinea coast.\n\n_History._--The early history of coffee as an economic product is\ninvolved in considerable obscurity, the absence of fact being\ncompensated for by a profusion of conjectural statements and mythical\nstories. The use of coffee (_C. arabica_) in Abyssinia was recorded in\nthe 15th century, and was then stated to have been practised from time\nimmemorial. Neighbouring countries, however, appear to have been quite\nignorant of its value. Various legendary accounts are given of the\ndiscovery of the beneficial properties of the plant, one ascribing it to\na flock of sheep accidentally browsing on the wild shrubs, with the\nresult that they became elated and sleepless at night! Its physiological\naction in dissipating drowsiness and preventing sleep was taken\nadvantage of in connexion with the prolonged religious service of the\nMahommedans, and its use as a devotional antisoporific stirred up fierce\nopposition on the part of the strictly orthodox and conservative section\nof the priests. Coffee by them was held to be an intoxicating beverage,\nand therefore prohibited by the Koran, and severe penalties were\nthreatened to those addicted to its use. Notwithstanding threats of\ndivine retribution and other devices, the coffee-drinking habit spread\nrapidly among the Arabian Mahommedans, and the growth of coffee and its\nuse as a national beverage became as inseparably connected with Arabia\nas tea is with China.\n\nTowards the close of the 16th century the use of coffee was recorded by\na European resident in Egypt, and about this epoch it came into general\nuse in the near East. The appreciation of coffee as a beverage in Europe\ndates from the 17th century. \"Coffee-houses\" were soon instituted, the\nfirst being opened in Constantinople and Venice. In London coffee-houses\ndate from 1652, when one was opened in St Michael's Alley, Cornhill.\nThey soon became popular, and the role played by them in the social life\nof the 17th and 18th centuries is well known. Germany, France, Sweden\nand other countries adopted them at about the same time as Great\nBritain. In Europe, as in Arabia, coffee at first made its way into\nfavour in the face of various adverse and even prohibitive restrictions.\nThus at one time in Germany it was necessary to obtain a licence to\nroast coffee. In England Charles II. endeavoured to suppress\ncoffee-houses on the ground that they were centres of political\nagitation, his royal proclamation stating that they were the resort of\ndisaffected persons \"who devised and spread abroad divers false,\nmalicious and scandalous reports, to the defamation of His Majesty's\ngovernment, and to the disturbance of the peace and quiet of the\nnation.\"\n\nUp to the close of the 17th century the world's entire, although\nlimited, supply of coffee was obtained from the province of Yemen in\nsouth Arabia, where the true celebrated Mocha or Mokka coffee is still\nproduced. At this time, however, plants were successfully introduced\nfrom Arabia to Java, where the cultivation was immediately taken up. The\ngovernment of Java distributed plants to various places, including the\nbotanic garden of Amsterdam. The Portuguese introduced coffee into\nCeylon. From Amsterdam the Dutch sent the plant to Surinam in 1718, and\nin the same year Jamaica received it through the governor Sir Nicholas\nLawes. Within a few years coffee reached the other West Indian islands,\nand spread generally through the tropics of the New World, which now\nproduce by far the greater portion of the world's supply.\n\n_Cultivation and Preparation for Market._--Coffee plants are grown from\nseeds, which, as in the case of other crops, should be obtained from\nselected trees of desirable characteristics. The seeds may be sown \"at\nstake,\" _i.e._ in the actual positions the mature plants are to occupy,\nor raised in a nursery and afterwards transplanted. The choice of\nmethods is usually determined by various local considerations. Nurseries\nare desirable where there is risk of drought killing seedlings in the\nopen. Whilst young the plants usually require to be shaded, and this may\nbe done by growing castor oil plants, cassava (_Manihot_), maize or\nIndian corn, bananas, or various other useful crops between the coffee,\nuntil the latter develop and occupy the ground. Sometimes, but by no\nmeans always, permanent shading is afforded by special shade trees, such\nas species of the coral tree (_Erythrina_) and other leguminous trees.\nOpinions as to the necessity of shade trees varies in different\ncountries; _e.g._ in Brazil and at high elevations in Jamaica they are\nnot employed, whereas in Porto Rico many look on them as absolutely\nessential. It is probable that in many cases where shade trees are of\nadvantage their beneficial action may be indirect, in affording\nprotection from wind, drought or soil erosion, and, when leguminous\nplants are employed, in enriching the soil in nitrogen. The plants begin\nto come into bearing in their second or third year, but on the average\nthe fifth is the first year of considerable yield. There may be two,\nthree, or even more \"flushes\" of blossom in one year, and flowers and\nfruits in all stages may thus be seen on one plant. The fruits are fully\nripe about seven months after the flowers open; the ripe fruits are\nfleshy, and of a deep red colour, whence the name of \"cherry.\" When\nmature the fruits are picked by hand, or allowed to fall of their own\naccord or by shaking the plant. The subsequent preparation may be\naccording to (1) the dry or (2) the wet method.\n\nIn the dry method the cherries are spread in a thin layer, often on a\nstone drying floor, or barbecue, and exposed to the sun. Protection is\nnecessary against heavy dew or rain. The dried cherries can be stored\nfor any length of time, and later the dried pulp and the parchment are\nremoved, setting free the two beans contained in each cherry. This\nprimitive and simple method is employed in Arabia, in Brazil and other\ncountries. In Brazil it is giving place to the more modern method\ndescribed below.\n\nIn the wet, or as it is sometimes called, West Indian method, the\ncherries are put in a tank of water. On large estates galvanized\nspouting is often employed to convey the beans by the help of running\nwater from the fields to the tank. The mature cherries sink, and are\ndrawn off from the tank through pipes to the pulping machines. Here they\nare subjected to the action of a roughened cylinder revolving closely\nagainst a curved iron plate. The fleshy portion is reduced to a pulp,\nand the mixture of pulp and liberated seeds (each still enclosed in its\nparchment) is carried away to a second tank of water and stirred. The\nlight pulp is removed by a stream of water and the seeds allowed to\nsettle. Slight fermentation and subsequent washings, accompanied by\ntrampling with bare feet and stirring by rakes or special machinery,\nresult in the parchment coverings being left quite clean. The beans are\nnow dried on barbecues, in trays, &c., or by artificial heat if\nclimatic conditions render this necessary. Recent experiments in Porto\nRico tend to show that if the weather is unfavourable during the crop\nperiod the pulped coffee can be allowed to remain moist and even to malt\nor sprout without injury to the final value of the product when dried\nlater. The product is now in the state known as parchment coffee, and\nmay be exported. Before use, however, the parchment must be removed.\nThis may be done on the estate, at the port of shipment, or in the\ncountry where imported. The coffee is thoroughly dried, the parchment\nbroken by a roller, and removed by winnowing. Further rubbing and\nwinnowing removes the silver skin, and the beans are left in the\ncondition of ordinary unroasted coffee. Grading into large, medium and\nsmall beans, to secure the uniformity desirable in roasting, is effected\nby the use of a cylindrical or other pattern sieve, along which the\nbeans are made to travel, encountering first small, then medium, and\nfinally large apertures or meshes. Damaged beans and foreign matter are\nremoved by hand picking. An average yield of cleaned coffee is from\n1-1\/2 to 2 lb per tree, but much greater crops are obtained on new rich\nlands, and under special conditions.\n\n  _Production._--The centre of production has shifted greatly since\n  coffee first came into use in Europe. Arabia formerly supplied the\n  world; later the West Indies and then Java took the lead, to be\n  supplanted in turn by Brazil, which now produces about three-quarters\n  of the world's supply and controls the market.\n\n  _Brazil._--Coffee planting is the chief industry of Brazil, and coffee\n  the principal export. The states of Sao Paulo, Rio de Janeiro, Minas\n  Geraes and Santos, contain the chief coffee-producing lands. The\n  annual output ranges from about 10,000,000 to 16,000,000 bags (of 120\n  lb each), whilst the world's annual consumption is more or less\n  stationary at about 16,000,000 bags. The overwhelming importance of\n  the Brazilian output is thus evident. Recently efforts have been made\n  to restrict production to maintain prices, and the Coffee Convention\n  scheme came into force in Sao Paulo on December 1, 1906, and in Rio de\n  Janeiro and Minas Geraes on January 1, 1907. The cultivation in\n  general is very primitive in character, periodical weeding being\n  almost all the attention the plants receive. Manuring is commonly\n  confined to mulches of the cut weeds and addition of the coffee husks.\n  New lands in Sao Paulo yield from 80 cwt. to 100 cwt. of cleaned\n  coffee per 1000 trees (700 go to the acre); the average yield,\n  however, is not more than 15 cwt. The plants are at their best when\n  from 10 to 15 years old, but continue yielding for 30 years or even\n  more.\n\n  _Other South American Countries._--Venezuela, Colombia, Ecuador, Peru,\n  and to a much less degree Bolivia and Paraguay, produce coffee, the\n  annual crops of the two former countries being each of about\n  L1,500,000 in value.\n\n  _Central America._--Guatemala produces the most in this region; the\n  coffee estates are mainly controlled by Germans, who have brought them\n  to a high pitch of perfection. The crop ranges in value from about\n  L1,000,000 to L1,500,000 per annum. Costa Rica and San Salvador\n  produce about half this amount. In Nicaragua, Honduras and Panama,\n  coffee is extensively cultivated, and all export the product.\n\n  _West Indies._--Coffee is grown in most of the islands, often only for\n  local use. Haiti produces the largest amount, the annual value of the\n  crop being about L500,000. Porto Rico formerly had a flourishing\n  industry, but it has declined owing to various causes. The interior is\n  still expected to be devoted largely to coffee, and the U.S.\n  Department of Agriculture has carried out experiments to improve\n  methods and ensure the cultivation of better varieties. Jamaica\n  produces the famous Blue Mountain Coffee, which compares favourably\n  with the best coffees of the world, and also ordinary or \"plain\n  grown\"; the Blue Mountain is cultivated at elevations of from 3000 to\n  4500 ft. Coffee usually ranks third or fourth in value amongst the\n  exports of the island.\n\n  _Africa_, the native country of the coffees, does not now contribute\n  any important amount to the world's output. In Liberia, the Gold Coast\n  and elsewhere on the West Coast are many plantations, but the low\n  prices ruling of recent years have caused coffee to be neglected for\n  more remunerative crops. Coffee is, however, still the principal\n  export of Nyasaland (British Central Africa), where it was introduced\n  as recently as 1894. The area under coffee has been greatly reduced,\n  owing partly to more attention being paid to cotton, partly to\n  droughts and other causes. In Somaliland and Abyssinia coffee\n  cultivation is of very ancient date. Two kinds are exported, Harrari\n  and Habashi. The former compares favourably with Mocha coffee. The\n  industry could be very considerably extended. In Natal, Rhodesia, &c.,\n  coffee is grown, but not in sufficient quantity to supply the local\n  demand.\n\n  _Arabia._--The name \"Mocha\" is applied generally to coffee produced in\n  Arabia. Turkey and Egypt obtain the best grades. Traders from these\n  countries go to Arabia, buy the crops on the trees, and supervise its\n  picking and preparation themselves. The coffee is prepared by the \"dry\n  method.\"\n\n\n  _India_ is the principal coffee-growing region in the British empire,\n  and produces about one-fifth of the total supply of the United\n  Kingdom. There are some 213,000 acres under coffee, mostly in southern\n  India. The official report states that the production of coffee is\n  restricted for the most part to a limited area in the elevated region\n  above the south-western coast, the coffee lands of Mysore, Coorg, and\n  the Madras districts of Malabar and the Nilgiris, comprising 86% of\n  the whole area under the plant in India. About one-half of the whole\n  coffee-producing area is in Mysore. In Burma, Assam and Bombay, coffee\n  is of minor importance. During 1904-1906 there was a reduction of the\n  area under coffee in India by 21,554 acres.\n\n  _Ceylon._--The history of coffee in Ceylon is practically that of the\n  coffee-leaf disease (see below). The Dutch introduced Arabian coffee\n  in 1720, but abandoned its cultivation later. It was revived by the\n  British, and developed very rapidly between 1836 and 1845, when there\n  was a temporary collapse owing to financial crisis in the United\n  Kingdom. In 1880 the exports of coffee were of the value of about\n  L2,784,163. Ten years later they had fallen to L430,633, owing to the\n  ravages of the coffee-leaf disease. The output continued to decrease,\n  and the value of the crop in 1906 was only L17,258. Liberian coffee,\n  which is hardier and more resistant to disease, was introduced, but\n  met with only partial success.\n\n  _Dutch East Indies._--Coffee from this source passes under the general\n  name of \"Java,\" that island producing the greatest amount; Sumatra,\n  Borneo and the Celebes, &c., however, also contribute. The Java\n  plantations are largely owned by the government. Much of the coffee\n  from these islands is of a high quality.\n\n  _Australasia._--Coffee can be cultivated in the northern territories\n  of Australia, but comparatively little is done with this crop;\n  Queensland produces the largest amount.\n\n  _Hawaii_, &c.--In all the islands of the Hawaiian group coffee is\n  grown, but nine-tenths or more is raised in Hawaii itself, the Kona\n  district being the chief seat of production. The exports go mostly to\n  the United States, and there is also a large local consumption.\n\n  Coffee thrives well also in the Philippines and Guam.\n\n  _The World's Trade._--The following figures, from the _Year-book_ of\n  the U.S. Department of Agriculture, indicate the relative importance\n  of the coffee-exporting countries.\n\n                                   1904.                 1905.\n     Country.                 Exports coffee        Exports coffee\n                                  in lb.                in lb.\n  _America_--\n    Brazil                    1,326,027,795         1,431,328,038\n    Colombia                    130,000,000  (est.)    70,000,000\n    Venezuela                   128,000,000    \"       94,370,090\n    Haiti                        81,407,346            45,244,232\n    Salvador                     75,314,003            61,822,223\n    Guatemala                    71,653,700            81,081,600\n    Mexico                       41,855,368            42,456,491\n    Costa Rica                   27,730,672            39,788,002\n    Nicaragua                    21,661,621            18,171,515\n    Porto Rico                   15,330,590\n    Jamaica                       5,781,440             9,046,464\n\n  _Asia_--\n    Dutch East Indies            77,168,254            72,864,649\n    British India                36,920,464            40,340,384\n    Singapore (port of export)   12,367,156            11,935,034\n\n  _Other countries_             216,891,567           220,132,690\n                              -------------         -------------\n                  Total       2,268,109,976         2,238,581,412\n\n  In 1906 there was an increased total of 2,680,855,878 lb, due to the\n  Brazil export rising to 1,847,367,771 lb. The aggregate value of the\n  coffee annually entering the world's markets is about L40,000,000.\n\n_Coffee Consumption._--The United States of America consume nearly one\nhalf of all the coffee exported from the producing countries of the\nworld. This might of course be due merely to the States containing more\ncoffee-drinkers than other countries, but the average consumption per\nhead in the country is about 11 to 12 lb per annum, an amount equalled\nor excelled only in Norway, Sweden and Holland. Whilst one great branch\nof the Anglo-Saxon stock is near the head of the list, it is interesting\nto note that the United Kingdom and also Canada and Australia are almost\nat the foot, using only about 1 lb of coffee per head each year.\nGermany, with a consumption of about 6 to 7 lb per person per annum uses\nconsiderably less than a quarter of the world's commercial crop. France,\nabout 5 lb per head, takes about one eighth; and Austria-Hungary, about\n2 lb, uses some one-sixteenth. Holland consumes approximately as much,\nbut with a much smaller population, the Dutch using more per head than\nany other people--14 lb to 15 lb per annum. Their taste is seen also in\nthe relatively high consumption in South Africa. Sweden, Belgium and the\nUnited Kingdom, follow next in order of total amount used.\n\nIn many tropical countries much coffee is drunk, but as it is often\nproduced locally exact figures are not available. The average\nconsumption in the United Kingdom is about 50,000,000 lb per annum;\nabout one-fifth only is produced in the British empire, and of this\nabout nineteen-twentieths come from India and one-twentieth from the\nBritish West Indies.\n\n_Coffee-leaf Disease._--The coffee industry in Ceylon was ruined by the\nattack of a fungoid disease (_Hemileia vastatrix_) known as the Ceylon\ncoffee-leaf disease. This has since extended its ravages into every\ncoffee-producing country in the Old World, and added greatly to the\ndifficulties of successful cultivation. The fungus is a microscopic one,\nthe minute spores of which, carried by the wind, settle and germinate\nupon the leaves of the plant. The fungal growth spreads through the\nsubstance to the leaf, robbing the leaf of its nourishment and causing\nit to wither and fall. An infected plantation may be cleansed, and the\nfungus in its nascent state destroyed, by powdering the trees with a\nmixture of lime and sulphur, but, unless the access of fresh spores\nbrought by the wind can be arrested, the plantations may be readily\nreinfected when the lime and sulphur are washed off by rain. The\nseparation of plantations by belts of trees to windward is suggested as\na check to the spread of the disease.\n\n[Illustration: FIG. 2.--Coffee-leaf Disease, _Hemileia vastatrix_.\n\n  1, Part of leaf showing diseased patches.\n  2, Cluster of uredospores.\n  3, Transverse section of a diseased patch in the leaf showing the\n     hyphae of the fungus pushing between the leaf-cells and tapping\n     them for nourishment. The hyphae have broken through in the upper\n     face and are forming a cluster of spores.\n  4, Ripe uredospores.\n  5, A teleutospore.\n  6, A uredospore germinating, the germ-tube is penetrating the leaf.\n  7, Uredospore germinating.\n  u, Uredospore.\n  t, Teleutospore.\n  2-7, Highly magnified.]\n\n_Microscopic Structure._--Raw coffee seeds are tough and horny in\nstructure, and are devoid of the peculiar aroma and taste which are so\ncharacteristic of the roasted seeds. The minute structure of coffee\nallows it to be readily recognized by means of the microscope, and as\nroasting does not destroy its distinguishing peculiarities, microscopic\nexamination forms the readiest means of determining the genuineness of\nany sample. The substance of the seed, according to Dr Hassall, consists\n\"of an assemblage of vesicles or cells of an angular form, which adhere\nso firmly together that they break up into pieces rather than separate\ninto distinct and perfect cells. The cavities of the cells include, in\nthe form of little drops, a considerable quantity of aromatic volatile\noil, on the presence of which the fragrance and many of the active\nprinciples of the berry depend\" (see fig. 3).\n\n[Illustration: FIG. 3.--Microscopic structure of Coffee.]\n\n_Physiological Action._--Coffee belongs to the medicinal or auxiliary\nclass of food substances, being solely valuable for its stimulant effect\nupon the nervous and vascular system. It produces a feeling of buoyancy\nand exhilaration comparable to a certain stage of alcoholic\nintoxication, but which does not end in depression or collapse. It\nincreases the frequency of the pulse, lightens the sensation of fatigue,\nand it sustains the strength under prolonged and severe muscular\nexertion. The value of its hot infusion under the rigours of Arctic cold\nhas been demonstrated in the experience of all Arctic explorers, and it\nis scarcely less useful in tropical regions, where it beneficially\nstimulates the action of the skin.\n\nThe physiological action of coffee mainly depends on the presence of the\nalkaloid caffeine, which occurs also in tea, Paraguay tea, and cola\nnuts, and is very similar to theobromine, the active principle in cocoa.\nThe percentage of caffeine present varies in the different species of\n_Coffea_. In Arabian coffee it ranges from about 0.7 to 1.6%; in\nLiberian coffee from 1.0 to 1.5%. Sierra Leone coffee (_C. stenophylla_)\ncontains from 1.52 to 1.70%; in _C. excelsa_ 1.89% is recorded, and as\nmuch as 1.97% in _C. canephora_. Four species have been shown by M. G.\nBertrand to contain no caffeine at all, but instead a considerable\nquantity of a bitter principle. All these four species are found only in\nMadagascar or the neighbouring islands. Other coffees grown there\ncontain caffeine as usual. Coffee, with the caffeine extracted, has also\nbeen recently prepared for the market. The commercial value of coffee is\ndetermined by the amount of the aromatic oil, caffeone, which develops\nin it by the process of roasting. By prolonged keeping it is found that\nthe richness of any seeds in this peculiar oil is increased, and with\nincreased aroma the coffee also yields a blander and more mellow\nbeverage. Stored coffee loses weight at first with great rapidity, as\nmuch as 8% having been found to dissipate in the first year of keeping,\n5% in the second, and 2% in the third; but such loss of weight is more\nthan compensated by improvement in quality and consequent enhancement of\nvalue.\n\n_Roasting._--In the process of roasting, coffee seeds swell up by the\nliberation of gases within their substance,--their weight decreasing in\nproportion to the extent to which the operation is carried. Roasting\nalso develops with the aromatic caffeone above alluded to a bitter\nsoluble principle, and it liberates a portion of the caffeine from its\ncombination with the caffetannic acid. Roasting is an operation of the\ngreatest nicety, and one, moreover, of a crucial nature, for equally by\ninsufficient and by excessive roasting much of the aroma of the coffee\nis lost; and its infusion is neither agreeable to the palate nor\nexhilarating in its influence. The roaster must judge of the amount of\nheat required for the adequate roasting of different qualities, and\nwhile that is variable, the range of roasting temperature proper for\nindividual kinds is only narrow. In continental countries it is the\npractice to roast in small quantities, and thus the whole charge is well\nunder the control of the roaster; but in Britain large roasts are the\nrule, in dealing with which much difficulty is experienced in producing\nuniform torrefaction, and in stopping the process at the proper moment.\nThe coffee-roasting apparatus is usually a malleable iron cylinder\nmounted to revolve over the fire on a hollow axle which allows the\nescape of gases generated during torrefaction. The roasting of coffee\nshould be done as short a time as practicable before the grinding for\nuse, and as ground coffee especially parts rapidly with its aroma, the\ngrinding should only be done when coffee is about to be prepared.\n\n_Adulteration._--Although by microscopic, physical and chemical tests\nthe purity of coffee can be determined with perfect certainty, yet\nground coffee is subjected to many and extensive adulterations (see also\nADULTERATION). Chief among the adulterant substances, if it can be so\ncalled, is chicory; but it occupies a peculiar position, since very many\npeople on the European continent as well as in Great Britain\ndeliberately prefer a mixture of chicory with coffee to pure coffee.\nChicory is indeed destitute of the stimulant alkaloid and essential oil\nfor which coffee is valued; but the facts that it has stood the test of\nprolonged and extended use, and that its infusion is, in some\nlocalities, used alone, indicate that it performs some useful function\nin connexion with coffee, as used at least by Western communities. For\none thing, it yields a copious amount of soluble matter in infusion with\nhot water, and thus gives a specious appearance of strength and\nsubstance to what may be really only a very weak preparation of coffee.\nThe mixture of chicory with coffee is easily detected by the microscope,\nthe structure of both, which they retain after torrefaction, being very\ncharacteristic and distinct. The granules of coffee, moreover, remain\nhard and angular when mixed with water, to which they communicate but\nlittle colour; chicory, on the other hand, swelling up and softening,\nyields a deep brown colour to water in which it is thrown. The specific\ngravity of an infusion of chicory is also much higher than that of\ncoffee. Among the numerous other substances used to adulterate coffee\nare roasted and ground roots of the dandelion, carrot, parsnip and beet;\nbeans, lupins and other leguminous seeds; wheat, rice and various cereal\ngrains; the seeds of the broom, fenugreek and iris; acorns; \"<DW64>\ncoffee,\" the seeds of _Cassia occidentalis_, the seeds of the ochro\n(_Hibiscus esculentus_), and also the soja or soy bean (_Glycine Soya_).\nNot only have these with many more similar substances been used as\nadulterants, but under various high-sounding names several of them have\nbeen introduced as substitutes for coffee; but they have neither merited\nnor obtained any success, and their sole effect has been to bring coffee\ninto undeserved disrepute with the public.\n\nNot only is ground coffee adulterated, but such mixtures as flour,\nchicory and coffee, or even bran and molasses, have been made up to\nsimulate coffee beans and sold as such.\n\nThe leaves of the coffee tree contain caffeine in larger proportion than\nthe seeds themselves, and their use as a substitute for tea has\nfrequently been suggested. The leaves are actually so used in Sumatra,\nbut being destitute of any attractive aroma such as is possessed by both\ntea and coffee, the infusion is not palatable. It is, moreover, not\npracticable to obtain both seeds and leaves from the same plant, and as\nthe commercial demand is for the seed alone, no consideration either of\nprofit or of any dietetic or economic advantage is likely to lead to the\ngrowth of coffee trees on account of their leaves.\n     (A. B. R.; W. G. F.)\n\n\n\n\nCOFFER (Fr. _coffre_, O. Fr. _cofre_ or _cofne_, Lat. _cophinus_, cf.\n\"coffin\"), in architecture, a sunk panel in a ceiling or vault; also a\ncasket or chest in which jewels or precious goods were kept, and, if of\nlarge dimensions, clothes. The marriage coffers in Italy were of\nexceptional richness in their carving and gilding and were sometimes\npainted by great artists.\n\n\n\n\nCOFFERDAM, in engineering. To enable foundations (q.v.) to be laid in a\nsite which is under water, the engineer sometimes surrounds it with an\nembankment or dam, known as a cofferdam, to form an enclosure from which\nthe water is excluded. Where the depth of water is small and the current\nslight, simple clay dams may be used, but in general cofferdams consist\nof two rows of piles, the space between which is packed with clay\npuddle. The dam must be sufficiently strong to withstand the exterior\npressure to which it is exposed when the enclosed space is pumped dry.\n\n\n\n\nCOFFEYVILLE, a city of Montgomery county, Kansas, U.S.A., on the\nVerdigris river, about 150 m. S. of Topeka and near the southern\nboundary of the state. Pop. (1890) 2282; (1900) 4953, of whom 803 were\n<DW64>s; (1905) 13,196; (1910) 12,687. Coffeyville is served by the\nMissouri Pacific, the Atchison, Topeka & Santa Fe, the Missouri, Kansas\n& Texas, and the Saint Louis, Iron Mountain & Southern railways, and by\ninter-urban electric railway to Independence. It is in the Kansas\nnatural-gas field, ships large quantities of grain, and has a large zinc\noxide smelter and a large oil refinery, and various manufactures,\nincluding vitrified brick and tile, flour, lumber, chemicals, window\nglass, bottles, pottery and straw boards. The municipality owns and\noperates its water-works and electric lighting plant. Coffeyville, named\nin honour of A. M. Coffey, who was a member of the first legislature of\nthe territory of Kansas, was founded in 1869, but in 1871 it was removed\nabout 1 m. from its original site, now known as \"old town.\" It was\nincorporated as a city of the third class in 1872 and received a new\ncharter in 1887. Coffeyville became a station on the Leavenworth,\nLawrence & Galveston railway (now part of the Atchison, Topeka & Santa\nFe), and for several years large numbers of cattle were driven here from\nIndian Territory and Texas for shipment; in fact, the city's chief\nimportance was as a trade centre for the north part of Indian Territory\nuntil natural gas was found here in large quantities in 1892.\n\n\n\n\nCOFFIN (from Lat. _cophinus_, Gr. [Greek: kophinos], a coffer, chest or\nbasket, but never meaning \"coffin\" in its present sense), the receptacle\nin which a corpse is confined. The Greeks and Romans disposed of their\ndead both by burial and by cremation. Greek coffins varied in shape,\nbeing in the form of an urn, or like the modern coffins, or triangular,\nthe body being in a sitting posture. The material used was generally\nburnt clay, and in some cases this had obviously been first moulded\nround the body, and so baked. Cremation was the commonest method of\ndisposing of the dead among the Romans, until the Christian era, when\nstone coffins came into use. Examples of these have been frequently dug\nup in England. In 1853, during excavations for the foundations of some\nwarehouses in Hayden Square, Minories, London, a Roman stone coffin was\nfound within which was a leaden shell. Others have been found at\nWhitechapel, Stratford-le-Bow, Old Kent Road and Battersea Fields, and\nin great numbers at Colchester, York, Southfleet and Kingsholme near\nGloucester. In early England stone coffins were only used by the nobles\nand the wealthy. Those of the Romans who were rich enough had their\ncoffins made of a limestone brought from Assos in Troas, which it was\ncommonly believed \"ate the body\"; hence arose the name sarcophagus\n(q.v.).\n\nThe coffins of the Chaldaeans were generally clay urns with the top left\nopen, resembling immense jars. These, too, must have been moulded round\nthe body, as the size of the mouth would not admit of its introduction\nafter the clay was baked. The Egyptian coffins, or sarcophagi, as they\nhave been improperly called, are the largest stone coffins known and are\ngenerally highly polished and covered with hieroglyphics, usually a\nhistory of the deceased. Mummy chests shaped to the form of the body\nwere also used. These were made of hard wood or _papier mache_ painted,\nand like the stone coffins bore hieroglyphics. The Persians, Parthians,\nMedes and peoples of the Caspian are not known to have had any coffins,\ntheir usual custom being to expose the body to be devoured by beasts and\nbirds of prey. Unhewn flat stones were sometimes used by the ancient\nEuropean peoples to line the grave. One was placed at the bottom, others\nstood on their edges to form the sides, and a large slab was put on top,\nthus forming a rude cist. In England after the Roman invasion these rude\ncists gave place to the stone coffin, and this, though varying much in\nshape, continued in use until the 16th century.\n\nThe most primitive wooden coffin was formed of a tree-trunk split down\nthe centre, and hollowed out. The earliest specimen of this type is in\nthe Copenhagen museum, the implements found in it proving that it\nbelonged to the Bronze Age. This type of coffin, more or less modified\nby planing, was used in medieval Britain by those of the better classes\nwho could not afford stone, but the poor were buried without coffins,\nwrapped simply in cloth or even covered only with hay and flowers.\nTowards the end of the 17th century, coffins became usual for all\nclasses. It is worth noting that in the Burial Service in the Book of\nCommon Prayer the word \"coffin\" is not used.\n\nAmong the American Indians some tribes, e.g. the Sacs, Foxes and Sioux,\nused rough hewn wooden coffins; others, such as the Seris, sometimes\nenclosed the corpse between the carapace and plastron of a turtle. The\nSeminoles of Florida used no coffins, while at Santa Barbara,\nCalifornia, canoes containing corpses have been found buried though they\nmay have been intended for the dead warrior's use in the next world.\nRough stone cists, too, have been found, especially in Illinois and\nKentucky. In their tree and scaffold burial the Indians sometimes used\nwooden coffins, but oftener the bodies were simply wrapped in blankets.\nCanoes mounted on a scaffold near a river were used as coffins by some\ntribes, while others placed the corpse in a canoe or wicker basket and\nfloated them out into the stream or lake (see FUNERAL RITES). The\naborigines of Australia generally used coffins of bark, but some tribes\nemployed baskets of wicker-work.\n\nLead coffins were used in Europe in the middle ages, shaped like the\nmummy chests of ancient Egypt. Iron coffins were more rare, but they\nwere certainly used in England and Scotland as late as the 17th century,\nwhen an order was made that upon bodies so buried a heavier burial fee\nshould be levied. The coffins used in England to-day are generally of\nelm or oak lined with lead, or with a leaden shell so as to delay as far\nas possible the process of disintegration and decomposition. In America\nglass is sometimes used for the lids, and the inside is lined with\ncopper or zinc. The coffins of France and Germany and the continent\ngenerally, usually differ from those of England in not being of the\nordinary hexagonal shape but having sides and ends parallel. Coffins\nused in cremation throughout the civilized world are of some light\nmaterial easily consumed and yielding little ash. Ordinary thin deal and\n_papier mache_ are the favourite materials. Coffins for what is known as\nEarth to Earth Burial are made of wicker-work covered with a thin layer\nof _papier mache_ over cloth.\n\n  See also FUNERAL RITES; CREMATION; Burial and Burial Acts; EMBALMING;\n  MUMMY, &c.\n\n  BIBLIOGRAPHY.--Dr H. C. Yarrow, \"Study of the Mortuary Customs of the\n  North American Indians,\" _Report of Bureau of Amer. Ethnol._ vol. i.\n  (Washington, U.S.A., 1881); Rev. Thomas Hugo, \"On the Hayden Square\n  Sarcophagus,\" _Journ. of Archaeol. Soc._ vol. ix. (London, 1854); C.\n  V. Creagh, \"On Unusual Forms of Burial by People of the East Coast of\n  Borneo,\" _J.A.I._, vol. xxvi. (London, 1896-1897); Rev. J. Edward\n  Vaux, _Church Folk-lore_ (1894).\n\n\n\n\nCOG. (1) (From an older _cogge_, a word which appears in various forms\nin Teutonic languages, as in O. Ger. _kogge_ or _kocke_, and also in\nRomanic, as in O. Fr. _cogue_, or _coque_, from which the Eng.\n\"cock-boat\" is derived; the connexion between the Teutonic and the\nRomanic forms is obscure), a broadly built, round-shaped ship, used as a\ntrader and also as a ship of war till the 15th century. (2) (A word of\nobscure origin, possibly connected with Fr. _coche_, and Ital. _cocca_,\na notch; the Celtic forms _cog_ and _cocas_ come from the English), a\ntooth in a series of teeth, morticed on to, or cut out of the\ncircumference of a wheel, which works with the tooth in a corresponding\nseries on another wheel (see MECHANICS). (3) (Also of quite obscure\norigin), a slang term for a form of cheating at dice. The early uses of\nthe word show that this was done not by \"loading\" the dice, as the\nmodern use of the expression of \"cogged dice\" seems to imply, but by\nsleight of hand in directing the fall or in changing the dice.\n\n\n\n\nCOGERS HALL, a London tavern debating society. It was instituted in 1755\nat the White Bear Inn (now St Bride's Tavern), Fleet Street, moved about\n1850 to Discussion Hall, Shoe Lane, and in 1871 finally migrated to the\nBarley Mow Inn, Salisbury Square, E.C., its present quarters. The name\nis often wrongly spelt Codgers and Coggers; the \"o\" is really long, the\naccepted derivation being from Descartes' _Cogito, ergo sum_, and thus\nmeaning \"The society of thinkers.\" The aims of the Cogers were \"the\npromotion of the liberty of the subject and the freedom of the Press,\nthe maintenance of loyalty to the laws, the rights and claims of\nhumanity and the practice of public and private virtue.\" Among its early\nmembers Cogers Hall reckoned John Wilkes, one of its first presidents,\nand Curran, who in 1773 writes to a friend that he spent a couple of\nhours every night at the Hall. Later Dickens was a prominent member.\n\n  See Peter Rayleigh, _History of Ye Antient Society of Cogers_ (London,\n  1904).\n\n\n\n\nCOGHLAN, CHARLES FRANCIS (1841-1899), Irish actor, was born in Paris,\nand was educated for the law. He made his first London appearance in\n1860, and became the leading actor at the Prince of Wales's. He went to\nAmerica in 1876, where he remained for the rest of his life, playing\nfirst in Augustin Daly's company and then in the Union Square stock\ncompany, during the long run of _The Celebrated Case_. He also played\nwith his sister, and in support of Mrs Langtry and Mrs Fiske, and in\n1898 produced a version of Dumas' _Kean_, called _The Royal Box_, in\nwhich he successfully starred during the last years of his life. He died\nin Galveston, Texas, on the 27th of November 1899.\n\nHis sister, the actress ROSE COGHLAN (1853-   ), went to America in 1871,\nwas again in England from 1873 to 1877, playing with Barry Sullivan, and\nthen returned to America, where she became prominent as Countess Zicka\nin _Diplomacy_, and Stephanie in _Forget-me-not_. She was at Wallack's\nalmost continuously until 1888, and subsequently appeared in melodrama\nin parts like the title-role of _The Sporting Duchess_.\n\n\n\n\nCOGNAC, a town of south-western France, capital of an arrondissement in\nthe department of Charente, on the left bank of the river Charente, 32\nm. W. of Angouleme on the Ouest-Etat railway, between Angouleme and\nSaintes. Pop. (1906) 18,389. The streets of the old town--which borders\nthe river--are narrow and tortuous, but the newer parts are well\nprovided with open spaces. The chief of these is the beautiful Parc\nFrancois 1er overlooking the Charente. In one of the squares there is a\nstatue of Francis I., who was born here. The chief building is a church\nof the 12th century dedicated to St Leger, which preserves a fine\nRomanesque facade and a tower of the 15th century. A castle of the 15th\nand 16th centuries, once the residence of the counts of Angouleme, now a\nstorehouse for brandy, and a medieval gate stand in the older part of\nthe town. Cognac is the seat of a subprefect and has tribunals of first\ninstance and of commerce, a council of trade arbitrators, a chamber of\ncommerce, and consulates of the United States, Spain and Portugal. Its\nmost important industry is the distillation of the brandy (q.v.) to\nwhich the town gives its name. Large quantities are carried, by way of\nthe river, to the neighbouring port of Tonnay-Charente. The industries\nsubsidiary to the brandy trade, such as the making of cases and bottles,\noccupy many hands. Ironware is also manufactured, and a considerable\ntrade is maintained in grain and cattle. In 1526 Cognac gave its name to\na treaty concluded against Charles V. by Francis I., the pope, Venice\nand Milan. Its possession was contested during the wars of religion, and\nin 1570 it became one of the Huguenot strongholds. In 1651 it\nsuccessfully sustained a siege against Louis II., prince of Conde,\nleader of the Fronde.\n\n  See _Le Pays du Cognac_, by L. Ravaz, for a description of the\n  district and its viticulture.\n\n\n\n\nCOGNITION (Latin _cognitio_, from _cognoscere_, to become acquainted\nwith), in psychology, a term used in its most general sense for all\nmodes of being conscious or aware of an object, whether material or\nintellectual. It is an ultimate mode of consciousness, strictly the\npresentation (through sensation or otherwise) of an object to\nconsciousness; in its complete form, however, it seems to involve a\njudgment, i.e. the separation from other objects of the object\npresented. The psychological theory of cognition takes for granted the\ndualism of the mind that knows and the object known; it takes no account\nof the metaphysical problem as to the possibility of a relation between\nthe ego and the non-ego, but assumes that such a relation does exist.\nCognition is therefore distinct from emotion and conation; it has no\npsychological connexion with feelings of pleasure and pain, nor does it\ntend as such to issue in action.\n\n  For the analysis of cognition-reactions see O. Kulpe, _Outlines of\n  Psychology_ (Eng. trans., 1895), pp. 411 foll.; E. B. Titchener,\n  _Experimental Psychology_ (1905), ii. 187 foll. On cognition\n  generally, G. F. Stout's _Analytic Psychology and Manual of\n  Psychology_; W. James's _Principles of Psychology_ (1890), i. 216\n  foll.; also article PSYCHOLOGY.\n\n\n\n\nCOGNIZANCE (Lat. _cognoscere_, to know), knowledge, notice, especially\njudicial notice, the right of trying or considering a case judicially,\nthe exercise of jurisdiction by a court of law. In heraldry a\n\"cognizance\" is an emblem, badge or device, used as a distinguishing\nmark by the body of retainers of a royal or noble house.\n\n\n\n\nCOHEN (Hebrew for \"priest\"), a Jewish family name, implying descent from\nthe ancient Hebrew priests. Many families claiming such descent are,\nhowever, not named Cohen. Other forms of the name are Cohn, Cowen, Kahn.\n\n  See J. Jacobs, _Jewish Encyclopedia_, iv. 144.\n\n\n\n\nCOHN, FERDINAND JULIUS (1828-1898), German botanist, was born on the\n24th of January 1828 at Breslau. He was educated at Breslau and Berlin,\nand in 1859 became extraordinary, and in 1871 ordinary, professor of\nbotany at Breslau University. He had a remarkable career, owing to his\nJewish origin. He was contemporary with N. Pringsheim, and worked with\nH. R. Goeppert, C. G. Nees von Esenbeck, C. G. Ehrenberg and Johannes\nMuller. At an early date he exhibited astonishing ability with the\nmicroscope, which he did much to improve, and his researches on\ncell-walls and the growth and contents of plant-cells soon attracted\nattention, especially as he made remarkable advances in the\nestablishment of an improved cell-theory, discovered the cilia in, and\nanalysed the movements of, zoospores, and pointed out that the\nprotoplasm of the plant-cell and the sarcode of the zoologists were one\nand the same physical vehicle of life. Although these early researches\nwere especially on the Algae, in which group he instituted marked\nreforms of the rigid system due to F. T. Kutzing, Cohn had already\ndisplayed that activity in various departments which made him so famous\nas an all-round naturalist, his attention at various times being turned\nto such varied subjects as _Aldorovanda_, torsion in trees, the nature\nof waterspouts, the effects of lightning, physiology of seeds, the\nproteid crystals in the potato, which he discovered, the formation of\ntravertin, the rotatoria, luminous worms, &c.\n\nIt is, however, in the introduction of the strict biological and\nphilosophical analysis of the life-histories of the lower and most\nminute forms of life that Cohn's greatest achievements consist, for he\napplied to these organisms the principle that we can only know the\nphases of growth of microscopic plants by watching every stage of\ndevelopment under the microscope, just as we learn how different are the\nyouthful and adult appearances of an oak or a fern by direct\nobservation. The success with which he attempted and carried out the\napplication of cultural and developmental methods on the Algae, Fungi\nand Bacteria can only be fully appreciated by those familiar with the\nminute size and elusive evolutions of these organisms, and with the\nlimited appliances at Cohn's command. Nevertheless his account of the\nlife-histories of _Protococcus_ (1850), _Stephanosphaera_ (1852),\n_Volvox_ (1856 and 1875), _Hydrodictyon_ (1861), and _Sphaeroplea_\n(1855-1857) among the Algae have never been put aside. The first is a\nmodel of what a study in development should be; the last shares with G.\nThuret's studies on _Fucus_ and Pringsheim's on _Vaucheria_ the merit of\nestablishing the existence of a sexual process in Algae. Among the Fungi\nCohn contributed important researches on _Pilobolus_ (1851), _Empusa_\n(1855), _Tarichium_ (1869), as well as valuable work on the nature of\nparasitism of Algae and Fungi.\n\nIt is as the founder of bacteriology that Cohn's most striking claims to\nrecognition will be established. He seems to have been always attracted\nparticularly by curious problems of fermentation and coloration due to\nthe most minute forms of life, as evinced by his papers on _Monas\nprodigiosa_ (1850) and \"Uber blutahnliche Farbungen\" (1850), on\ninfusoria (1851 and 1852), on organisms in drinking-water (1853), \"Die\nWunder des Blutes\" (1854), and had already published several works on\ninsect epidemics (1869-1870) and on plant diseases, when his first\nspecially bacteriological memoir (_Crenothrix_) appeared in the\njournal, _Beitrage zur Biologie_, which he then started (1870-1871), and\nwhich has since become so renowned. Investigations on other branches of\nbacteriology soon followed, among which \"Organismen der Pockenlymphe\"\n(1872) and \"Untersuchungen uber Bacterien\" (1872-1875) are most\nimportant, and laid the foundations of the new department of science\nwhich has now its own laboratories, literature and workers specially\ndevoted to its extension in all directions. When it is remembered that\nCohn brought out and helped R. Koch in publishing his celebrated paper\non _Anthrax_ (1876), the first clearly worked out case of a bacterial\ndisease, the significance of his influence on bacteriology becomes\napparent.\n\nAmong his most striking discoveries during his studies of the forms and\nmovements of the Bacteria may be mentioned the nature of Zoogloea, the\nformation and germination of true spores--which he observed for the\nfirst time, and which he himself discovered in _Bacillus subtilis_--and\ntheir resistance to high temperatures, and the bearing of this on the\nfallacious experiments supposed to support abiogenesis; as well as works\non the bacteria of air and water, the significance of the bright sulphur\ngranules in sulphur bacteria, and of the iron oxide deposited in the\nwalls of _Crenothrix_. His discoveries in these and in other departments\nall stand forth as mementoes of his acute observation and reasoning\npowers, and the thoughtful (in every sense of the word) consideration of\nthe work of others, and suggestive ideas attached to his principal\npapers, bear the same characteristics. If we overcome the always\ndifficult task of bridging in imagination the interval between our\npresent platform of knowledge and that on which bacteriologists stood\nin, say, 1870, we shall not undervalue the important contributions of\nCohn to the overthrow of the then formidable bugbear known as the\ndoctrine of \"spontaneous generation,\" a dogma of despair calculated to\nimpede progress as much in its day as that of \"vitalism\" did in other\nperiods. Cohn had also clear perceptions of the important bearings of\nMycology and Bacteriology in infective diseases, as shown by his studies\nin insect-killing fungi, microscopic analysis of water, &c. He was a\nforeign member of the Royal Society and of the Linnean Society, and\nreceived the gold medal of the latter in 1895. He died at Breslau on the\n25th of June 1898.\n\n  Lists of his papers will be found in the _Catalogue of Scientific\n  Papers of the Royal Society_, and in _Ber. d. d. bot. Gesellsch._,\n  1899, vol. xvii. p. (196). The latter also contains (p. (172)) a full\n  memoir by F. Rosen.     (H. M. W.)\n\n\n\n\nCOHN, GUSTAV (1840-   ), German economist, was born on the 12th of\nDecember 1840 at Marienwerder, in West Prussia. He was educated at\nBerlin and Jena universities. In 1869 he obtained a post at the\npolytechnic in Riga, and in 1875 was elected a professor at the\npolytechnic at Zurich. In 1873 he went to England for a period of study,\nand as a result published his _Untersuchungen uber die englische\nEisenbahnpolitik_ (Leipzig, 1874-1875). In 1884 he was appointed\nprofessor of political science at Gottingen. Cohn's best-known works are\n_System der Nationalokonomie_ (Stuttgart, 1885); _Finanzwissenschaft_\n(1889); _Nationalokonomische Studien_ (1886), and _Zur Geschichte und\nPolitik des Verkehrswesens_ (1900).\n\n\n\n\nCOHOES, a city of Albany county, New York, U.S.A., about 9 m. N. of\nAlbany, at the confluence of the Mohawk and Hudson rivers. Pop. (1890)\n22,509; (1900) 23,910, of whom 7303 were foreign-born; (1910) 24,709. It\nis served by the New York Central & Hudson River and the Delaware &\nHudson railways, by electric lines to Troy and Albany, and by the Erie\nand Champlain canals. It is primarily a manufacturing city. Hosiery and\nknit goods, cotton cloth, cotton batting, shoddy, underwear and shirts\nand collars are the principal products, but there are also extensive\nvalve works and manufactories of pulp, paper and paper boxes, beer, pins\nand needles, tools and machinery, and sash, doors and blinds. The value\nof the factory products in 1905 was $10,289,822, of which $4,126,873, or\n40.1%, was the value of hosiery and knit goods, Cohoes ranking fifth\namong the cities of the United States (of 20,000 inhabitants or more) in\nthis industry, and showing a higher degree of specialization in it than\nany other city in the United States except Little Falls, N.Y. The Falls\nof the Mohawk, which furnish power for the majority of the manufacturing\nestablishments, are 75 ft. high and 900 ft. broad, a large dam above the\nfalls storing the water, which is conveyed through canals to the mills.\nBelow the falls the river is crossed by two fine iron bridges. The city\nhas a public library, a normal training school and the St Bernard's\n(Roman Catholic) Academy. Cohoes was a part of the extensive manorial\ngrant made to Killian Van Rensselaer in 1629 and it was probably settled\nvery soon afterwards. It was incorporated as a village in 1848 and was\nchartered as a city in 1870.\n\n\n\n\nCOHORT (Lat. _cohors_), originally a place enclosed: in the Roman army,\nthe name of a unit of infantry. The troops of the first grade, the\nlegions, were divided into cohorts, of which there were ten in each\nlegion: the cohort thus contained 600 men. Among the troops of the\nsecond grade (the _auxilia_) the cohorts were independent foot regiments\n500 or 1000 strong, corresponding to the _alae_, which were similar\nregiments of cavalry; they were generally posted on the frontiers of the\nEmpire in small forts of four to eight acres, each holding one cohort or\n_ala_. The special troops of Rome itself, the Praetorian Guard, the\nUrbanae Cohortes, and the Vigiles (fire brigade), were divided into\ncohorts (see further ROMAN ARMY). The phrase _cohors praetoria_ or\n_cohors amicorum_ was sometimes used, especially during the Roman\nrepublic, to denote the suite of the governor of a province; hence\ndeveloped the Praetorian cohorts which formed the emperor's bodyguard.\n\nIn biology, \"cohort\" is a term for a group of allied orders or families\nof plants or animals.\n\n\n\n\nCOIF (from Fr. _coiffe_, Ital. _cuffia_, a cap), a close-fitting\ncovering for the head. Originally it was the name given to a\nhead-covering worn in the middle ages, tied like a night-cap under the\nchin, and worn out of doors by both sexes; this was later worn by men as\na kind of night-cap or skull-cap. The coif was also a close-fitting cap\nof white lawn or silk, worn by English serjeants-at-law as a\ndistinguishing mark of their profession. It became the fashion to wear\non the top of the white coif a small skull-cap of black silk or velvet;\nand on the introduction of wigs at the end of the 17th century a round\nspace was left on the top of the wig for the display of the coif, which\nwas afterwards covered by a small patch of black silk edged with white\n(see A. Pulling, _Order of the Coif_, 1897). The random conjecture of\nSir H. Spelman (_Glossarium archaiologicum_) that the coif was\noriginally designed to conceal the ecclesiastical tonsure has\nunfortunately been quoted by annotators of Blackstone's _Commentaries_\nas well as by Lord Campbell in his _Lives of the Chief Justices_. It may\nbe classed with the curious conceit, recorded in Brand's _Popular\nAntiquities_, that the coif was derived from the child's caul, and was\nworn on the advocate's head for luck.\n\n\n\n\nCOIMBATORE, a city and district of British India, in the Madras\npresidency. The city is situated on the left bank of the Noyil river,\n305 m. from Madras by the Madras railway. In 1901 it had a population of\n53,080, showing an increase of 14% in the decade. The city stands 1437\nft. above sea-level, is well laid out and healthy, and is rendered\nadditionally attractive to European residents by its picturesque\nposition on the <DW72>s of the Nilgiri hills. It is an important\nindustrial centre, carrying on cotton weaving and spinning, tanning,\ndistilling, and the manufacture of coffee, sugar, manure and saltpetre.\nIt has two second-grade colleges, a college of agriculture, and a school\nof forestry.\n\nThe DISTRICT OF COIMBATORE has an area of 7860 sq. m. It may be\ndescribed as a flat, open country, hemmed in by mountains on the north,\nwest and south, but opening eastwards on to the great plain of the\nCarnatic; the average height of the plain above sea-level is about 900\nft. The principal mountains are the Anamalai Hills, in the south of the\ndistrict, rising at places to a height of between 8000 and 9000 ft. In\nthe west the Palghat and Vallagiri Hills form a connecting link between\nthe Anamalai range and the Nilgiris, with the exception of a remarkable\ngap known as the Palghat Pass. This gap, which completely intersects the\nGhats, is about 20 m. wide. In the north is a range of primitive\ntrap-hills known as the Cauvery chain, extending eastwards from the\nNilgiris, and rising in places to a height of 4000 ft. The principal\nrivers are the Cauvery, Bhavani, Noyil, and Amravati. Numerous canals\nare cut from the rivers for the purpose of affording artificial\nirrigation, which has proved of immense benefit to the country. Well and\ntank water is also largely used for irrigation purposes. Coimbatore\ndistrict was acquired by the British in 1799 at the close of the war\nwhich ended with the death of Tippoo. In 1901 the population was\n2,201,782, showing an increase of 10% in the preceding decade. The\nprincipal crops are millet, rice, other food grains, pulse, oilseeds,\ncotton and tobacco, with a little coffee. Forests cover nearly 1-1\/2\nmillion acres, yielding valuable timber (teak, sandalwood, &c.), and\naffording grazing-ground for cattle. There are several factories for\npressing cotton, and for cleaning coffee, oil-cake presses, tanneries\nand saltpetre refineries. Cereals, cotton, forest products, cattle and\nhides, and brass and copper vessels are the chief exports from the\ndistrict. The south-west line of the Madras railway runs through the\ndistrict, and the South Indian railway (of metre gauge) joins this at\nErode.\n\n\n\n\nCOIMBRA, the capital of an administrative district formerly included in\nthe province of Beira, Portugal; on the north bank of the river Mondego,\n115 m. N.N.E. of Lisbon, on the Lisbon-Oporto railway. Pop. (1900)\n18,144. Coimbra is built for the most part on rising ground, and\npresents from the other side of the river a picturesque and imposing\nappearance; though in reality its houses have individually but little\npretension, and its streets are, almost without exception, narrow and\nmean. It derives its present importance from being the seat of the only\nuniversity in the kingdom--an institution which was originally\nestablished at Lisbon in 1291, was transferred to Coimbra in 1306, was\nagain removed to Lisbon, and was finally fixed at Coimbra in 1527. There\nare five faculties--theology, law, medicine, mathematics and\nphilosophy--with more than 1300 students. The library contains about\n150,000 volumes, and the museums and laboratories are on an extensive\nscale. In connexion with the medical faculty there are regular\nhospitals; the mathematical faculty maintains an observatory from which\nan excellent view can be obtained of the whole valley of the Mondego;\nand outside the town there is a botanic garden (especially rich in the\nflora of Brazil), which also serves as a public promenade. Among the\nother educational establishments are a military college, a royal college\nof arts, a scientific and literary institute, and an episcopal seminary.\n\nThe city is the seat of a bishop, suffragan to the archbishop of Braga;\nits new cathedral, founded in 1580, is of little interest; but the old\nis a fine specimen of 12th-century Romanesque, and retains portions of\nthe mosque which it replaced. The principal churches are Santa Cruz, of\nthe 16th century, and San Salvador, founded in 1169. On the north bank\nof the Mondego stand the ruins of the once splendid monastery of Santa\nClara, established in 1286; and on the south bank is the celebrated\n_Quinta das lagrimas_, or Villa of Tears, where Inez de Castro (q.v.) is\nbelieved to have been murdered in 1355. The town is supplied with water\nby means of an aqueduct of 20 arches. The Mondego is only navigable in\nflood, and the port of Figueira da Foz is 20 m. W. by S., so that the\ntrade of Coimbra is mainly local; but there are important lamprey\nfisheries and manufactures of pottery, leather and hats.\n\nA Latin inscription of the 4th century identifies Coimbra with the\nancient Aeminium; while Condeixa (3623), 8 m. S.S.W., represents the\nancient Conimbriga or Conembrica,. In the 9th century, however, when the\nbishopric of Conimbriga was removed hither, its old title was\ntransferred to the new see, and hence arose the modern name Coimbra. The\ncity was for a long time a Moorish stronghold, but in 1064 it was\ncaptured by Ferdinand I. of Castile and the Cid. Until 1260 it was the\ncapital of the country, and no fewer than six kings--Sancho I. and II.,\nAlphonso II. and III., Pedro and Ferdinand--were born within its walls.\nIt was also the birthplace of the poet Francisco Sa de Miranda\n(1495-1558), and, according to one tradition, of the more famous Luiz de\nCamoens (1524-1580), who was a student at the university between 1537\nand 1542. In 1755 Coimbra suffered considerably from the earthquake. In\n1810 it was sacked by the French under Marshal Massena. In 1834 Dom\nMiguel made the city his headquarters; and in 1846 it was the scene of a\nMiguelist insurrection.\n\nThe administrative district of Coimbra coincides with the south-western\npart of Beira; pop. (1900) 332,168; area 1508 sq. m.\n\n\n\n\nCOIN, a town of southern Spain in the province of Malaga; 18 m. W.S.W.\nof the city of Malaga. Pop. (1900) 12,326. Coin is finely situated on\nthe northern <DW72> of the Sierra de Mijas, overlooking the small river\nSeco and surrounded by vineyards and plantations of oranges and lemons.\nThere are marble quarries in the neighbourhood, and, despite the lack of\na railway, Coin has a thriving agricultural trade. The population\nincreased by more than half between 1880 and 1900.\n\n\n\n\nCOIN (older forms of the word are _coyne_, _quoin_ and _coign_, all\nderived through the O. Fr. _coing_, and _cuigne_ from Lat. _cuneus_, a\nwedge), properly the term for a wedge-shaped die used for stamping\nmoney, and so transferred to the money so stamped; hence a piece of\nmoney. The form \"quoin\" is used for the external angle of a building\n(see QUOINS), and \"coign,\" also a projecting angle, survives in the\nShakespearean phrase \"a coign of vantage.\"\n\n\n\n\nCOINAGE OFFENCES. The coinage of money is in all states a prerogative of\nthe sovereign power; consequently any infringement of that prerogative\nis always severely punished, as being an offence likely to interfere\nwith the well-being of the state.\n\nIn the United Kingdom the statute law against offences relating to the\ncoin was codified by an act of 1861. The statute provides that whoever\nfalsely makes or counterfeits any coin resembling or apparently intended\nto resemble or pass for any current gold or silver coin of the realm (s.\n2), or gilds, silvers, washes, cases over or colours with materials\ncapable of producing the appearance of gold or silver a coin or a piece\nof any metal or mixture of metals, or files or alters it, with intent to\nmake it resemble or pass for any current gold or silver coin (s. 3), or\nwho buys, sells, receives or pays a false gold or silver coin at a lower\nrate than its denomination imports, or who receives into the United\nKingdom any false coin knowing it to be counterfeit (ss. 6, 7), or who,\nwithout lawful authority or excuse, knowingly makes or mends, buys or\nsells, or has in his custody or possession, or conveys out of the Royal\nMint any coining moulds, machines or tools, is guilty of felony (ss. 24,\n25). The punishment for such offences is either penal servitude for life\nor for not less than three years, or imprisonment for not more than two\nyears, with or without hard labour. Whoever impairs, diminishes or\nlightens current gold or silver coin, with intent to pass same, is\nliable to penal servitude for from three to fourteen years (s. 4), and\nwhoever has in his possession filings or clippings obtained by impairing\nor lightening current coin is liable to the same punishment, or to penal\nservitude for from three to seven years. The statute also makes\nprovision against tendering or uttering false gold or silver coin, which\nis a misdemeanour, punishable by imprisonment with or without hard\nlabour. Provision is also made with respect to falsely making,\ncounterfeiting, tendering or uttering copper coin, exporting false coin,\nor defacing current coin by stamping names or words on it, and\ncounterfeiting, tendering or uttering coin resembling or meant to pass\nas that of some foreign state. The act of 1861 applies to offences with\nrespect to colonial coins as well as to those of the United Kingdom.\n\nBy the constitution of the United States, Congress has the power of\ncoining money, regulating the value thereof and of foreign coin (Art. i.\ns. viii.), and the states are prohibited from coining money, or making\nanything but gold and silver money a tender in payment of debts (Art. i.\ns. x.). The counterfeiting coin or money, uttering the same, or\nmutilating or defacing it, is an offence against the United States, and\nis punishable by fine and imprisonment with hard labour for from two to\nten years. It has also been made punishable by state legislation.\n\n\n\n\nCOIR (from Malay _K[=a]yar_, cord, _K[=a]yaru_, to be twisted), a rough,\nstrong, fibrous substance obtained from the outer husk of the coco-nut.\n(See COCO-NUT PALM.)\n\n\n\n\nCOIRE (Ger. _Chur_ or _Cur_, Ital. _Coira_, Lat. _Curia Raetorum_,\nRomonsch _Cuera_), the capital of the Swiss canton of the Grisons. It is\nbuilt, at a height of 1949 ft. above the sea-level, on the right bank of\nthe Plessur torrent, just as it issues from the Schanfigg valley, and\nabout a mile above its junction with the Rhine. It is overshadowed by\nthe Mittenberg (east) and Pizokel (south), hills that guard the entrance\nto the deep-cut Schanfigg valley. In 1900 it contained 11,532\ninhabitants, of whom 9288 were German-speaking, 1466 Romonsch-speaking,\nand 677 Italian-speaking; while 7561 were Protestants, 3962 Romanists\nand one a Jew. The modern part of the city is to the west, but the old\nportion, with all the historical buildings, is to the east. Here is the\ncathedral church of St Lucius (who is the patron of Coire, and is\nsupposed to be a 2nd-century British king, though really the name has\nprobably arisen from a confusion between Lucius of Cyrene--miswritten\n\"_curiensis_\"--with the Roman general Lucius Munatius Plancus, who\nconquered Raetia). Built between 1178 and 1282, on the site of an older\nchurch, it contains many curious medieval antiquities (especially in the\nsacristy), as well as a picture by Angelica Kaufmann, and the tomb of\nthe great Grisons political leader (d. 1637) Jenatsch (q.v.). Opposite\nis the Bishop's Palace, and not far off is the Episcopal Seminary (built\non the ruins of a 6th-century monastic foundation). Not far from these\nancient monuments is the new Raetian Museum, which contains a great\ncollection of objects relating to Raetia (including the geological\ncollections of the Benedictine monk of Disentis, Placidus a Spescha\n(1752-1833), who explored the high snowy regions around the sources of\nthe Rhine). One of the hospitals was founded by the famous Capuchin\nphilanthropist, Father Theodosius Florentini (1808-1865), who was long\nthe Romanist cure of Coire, and whose remains were in 1906 transferred\nfrom the cathedral here to Ingenbohl (near Schwyz), his chief\nfoundation. Coire is 74 m. by rail from Zurich, and is the meeting-point\nof the routes from Italy over many Alpine passes (the Lukmanier, the\nSplugen, the San Bernardino) as well as from the Engadine (Albula,\nJulier), so that it is the centre of an active trade (particularly in\nwine from the Valtelline), though it possesses also a few local\nfactories.\n\nThe episcopal see is first mentioned in 452, but probably existed a\ncentury earlier. The bishop soon acquired great temporal powers,\nespecially after his dominions were made, in 831, dependent on the\nEmpire alone, of which he became a prince in 1170. In 1392 he became\nhead of the league of God's House (originally formed against him in\n1367), one of the three Raetian leagues, but, in 1526, after the\nReformation, lost his temporal powers, having fulfilled his historical\nmission (see GRISONS). The bishopric still exists, with jurisdiction\nover the Cantons of the Grisons, Glarus, Zurich, and the three Forest\nCantons, as well as the Austrian principality of Liechtenstein. The gild\nconstitution of the city of Chur lasted from 1465 to 1839, while in 1874\nthe _Burgergemeinde_ was replaced by an _Einwohnergemeinde_.\n\n  AUTHORITIES.--A. Eichhorn, _Episcopatus Curiensis_ (St Blasien, 1797);\n  W. von Juvalt, _Forschungen uber die Feudalzeit im Curischen Raetien_,\n  2 parts (Zurich, 1871); C. Kind, _Die Reformation in den Bisthumern\n  Chur und Como_ (Coire, 1858); Conradin von Moor, Geschichte von\n  Curraetien (2 vols., Coire, 1870-1874); P. C. von Planta, _Das alte\n  Raetien_ (Berlin, 1872); _Idem, Die Curraetischen Herrschaften in der\n  Feudalzeit_ (Bern, 1881); _Idem, Verfassungsgeschichte der Stadt Cur\n  im Mittelalter_ (Coire, 1879); _Idem, Geschichte von Graubunden_\n  (Bern, 1892).     (W. A. B. C.)\n\n\n\n\nCOKE, SIR EDWARD (1552-1634), English lawyer, was born at Mileham, in\nNorfolk, on the 1st of February 1552. From the grammar school of Norwich\nhe passed to Trinity College, Cambridge; and in 1572 he entered\nLincoln's Inn. In 1578 he was called to the bar, and in the next year he\nwas chosen reader at Lyon's Inn. His extensive and exact legal\nerudition, and the skill with which he argued the intricate libel case\nof Lord Cromwell (4 Rep. 13), and the celebrated real property case of\nShelley (1 Rep. 94, 104), soon brought him a practice never before\nequalled, and caused him to be universally recognized as the greatest\nlawyer of his day. In 1586 he was made recorder of Norwich, and in 1592\nrecorder of London, solicitor-general, and reader in the Inner Temple.\nIn 1593 he was returned as member of parliament for his native county,\nand also chosen speaker of the House of Commons. In 1594 he was promoted\nto the office of attorney-general, despite the claims of Bacon, who was\nwarmly supported by the earl of Essex. As crown lawyer his treatment of\nthe accused was marked by more than the harshness and violence common in\nhis time; and the fame of the victim has caused his behaviour in the\ntrial of Raleigh to be lastingly remembered against him. While the\nprisoner defended himself with the calmest dignity and self-possession,\nCoke burst into the bitterest invective, brutally addressing the great\ncourtier as if he had been a servant, in the phrase, long remembered for\nits insolence and its utter injustice--\"Thou hast an English face, but a\nSpanish heart!\"\n\nIn 1582 Coke married the daughter of John Paston, a gentleman of\nSuffolk, receiving with her a fortune of L30,000; but in six months he\nwas left a widower. Shortly after he sought the hand of Lady Elizabeth\nHatton, daughter of Thomas, second Lord Burghley, and granddaughter of\nthe great Cecil. Bacon was again his rival, and again unsuccessfully;\nthe wealthy young widow became--not, it is said, to his future\ncomfort--Coke's second wife.\n\nIn 1606 Coke was made chief justice of the common pleas, but in 1613 he\nwas removed to the office of chief justice of the king's bench, which\ngave him less opportunity of interfering with the court. The change,\nthough it brought promotion in dignity, caused a diminution of income as\nwell as of power; but Coke received some compensation in being appointed\na member of the privy council. The independence of his conduct as a\njudge, though not unmixed with the baser elements of prejudice and\nvulgar love of authority, has partly earned forgiveness for the\nharshness which was so prominent in his sturdy character. Full of an\nextreme reverence for the common law which he knew so well, he defended\nit alike against the court of chancery, the ecclesiastical courts, and\nthe royal prerogative. In a narrow spirit, and strongly influenced, no\ndoubt, by his enmity to the chancellor, Thomas Egerton (Lord Brackley),\nhe sought to prevent the interference of the court of chancery with even\nthe unjust decisions of the other courts. In the case of an appeal from\na sentence given in the king's bench, he advised the victorious, but\nguilty, party to bring an action of praemunire against all those who had\nbeen concerned in the appeal, and his authority was stretched to the\nutmost to obtain the verdict he desired. On the other hand, Coke has the\ncredit of having repeatedly braved the anger of the king. He freely gave\nhis opinion that the royal proclamation cannot make that an offence\nwhich was not an offence before. An equally famous but less satisfactory\ninstance occurred during the trial of Edmund Peacham, a divine in whose\nstudy a sermon had been found containing libellous accusations against\nthe king and the government. There was nothing to give colour to the\ncharge of high treason with which he was charged, and the sermon had\nnever been preached or published; yet Peacham was put to the torture,\nand Bacon was ordered to confer with the judges individually concerning\nthe matter. Coke declared such conference to be illegal, and refused to\ngive an opinion, except in writing, and even then he seems to have said\nnothing decided. But the most remarkable case of all occurred in the\nnext year (1616). A trial was held before Coke in which one of the\ncounsel denied the validity of a grant made by the king to the bishop of\nLichfield of a benefice to be held _in commendam_. James, through Bacon,\nwho was then attorney-general, commanded the chief justice to delay\njudgment till he himself should discuss the question with the judges. At\nCoke's request Bacon sent a letter containing the same command to each\nof the judges, and Coke then obtained their signatures to a paper\ndeclaring that the attorney-general's instructions were illegal, and\nthat they were bound to proceed with the case. His Majesty expressed his\ndispleasure, and summoned them before him in the council-chamber, where\nhe insisted on his supreme prerogative, which, he said, ought not to be\ndiscussed in ordinary argument. Upon this all the judges fell on their\nknees, seeking pardon for the form of their letter; but Coke ventured to\ndeclare his continued belief in the loyalty of its substance, and when\nasked if he would in the future delay a case at the king's order, the\nonly reply he would vouchsafe was that he would do what became him as a\njudge. Soon after he was dismissed from all his offices on the following\ncharges,--the concealment, as attorney-general, of a bond belonging to\nthe king, a charge which could not be proved, illegal interference with\nthe court of chancery and disrespect to the king in the case of\ncommendams. He was also ordered by the council to revise his book of\nreports, which was said to contain many extravagant opinions (June\n1616).\n\nCoke did not suffer these losses with patience. He offered his daughter\nFrances, then little more than a child, in marriage to Sir John\nVilliers, brother of the favourite Buckingham. Her mother, supported at\nfirst by her husband's great rival and her own former suitor, Bacon,\nobjected to the match, and placed her in concealment. But Coke\ndiscovered her hiding-place; and she was forced to wed the man whom she\ndeclared that of all others she abhorred. The result was the desertion\nof the husband and the fall of the wife. It is said, however, that after\nhis daughter's public penance in the Savoy church, Coke had heart enough\nto receive her back to the home which he had forced her to leave. Almost\nall that he gained by his heartless diplomacy was a seat in the council\nand in the star-chamber.\n\nIn 1620 a new and more honourable career opened for him. He was elected\nmember of parliament for Liskeard; and henceforth he was one of the most\nprominent of the constitutional party. It was he who proposed a\nremonstrance against the growth of popery and the marriage of Prince\nCharles to the infanta of Spain, and who led the Commons in the decisive\nstep of entering on the journal of the House the famous petition of the\n18th of December 1621, insisting on the freedom of parliamentary\ndiscussion, and the liberty of speech of every individual member. In\nconsequence, together with Pym and Sir Robert Philips, he was thrown\ninto confinement; and, when in the August of the next year he was\nreleased, he was commanded to remain in his house at Stoke Poges during\nhis Majesty's pleasure. Of the first and second parliaments of Charles\nI. Coke was again a member. From the second he was excluded by being\nappointed sheriff of Buckinghamshire. In 1628 he was at once returned\nfor both Buckinghamshire and Suffolk, and he took his seat for the\nformer county. After rendering other valuable support to the popular\ncause, he took a most important part in drawing up the great Petition of\nRight. The last act of his public career was to bewail with tears the\nruin which he declared the duke of Buckingham was bringing upon the\ncountry. At the close of the session he retired into private life; and\nthe six years that remained to him were spent in revising and improving\nthe works upon which, at least as much as upon his public career, his\nfame now rests. He died at Stoke Poges on the 3rd of September 1634.\n\nCoke published _Institutes_ (1628), of which the first is also known as\n_Coke upon Littleton_; _Reports_ (1600-1615), in thirteen parts; _A\nTreatise of Bail and Mainprize_ (1635); _The Complete Copyholder_\n(1630); _A Reading on Fines and Recoveries_ (1684).\n\n  See Johnson, _Life of Sir Edward Coke_ (1837); H. W. Woolrych, _The\n  Life of Sir Edward Coke_ (1826); Foss, _Lives of the Judges_;\n  Campbell, _Lives of the Chief Justices_; also ENGLISH LAW.\n\n\n\n\nCOKE, SIR JOHN (1563-1644), English politician, was born on the 5th of\nMarch 1563, and was educated at Trinity College, Cambridge. After\nleaving the university he entered public life as a servant of William\nCecil, Lord Burghley, afterwards becoming deputy-treasurer of the navy\nand then a commissioner of the navy, and being specially commended for\nhis labours on behalf of naval administration. He became member of\nparliament for Warwick in 1621 and was knighted in 1624, afterwards\nrepresenting the university of Cambridge. In the parliament of 1625 Coke\nacted as a secretary of state; in this and later parliaments he\nintroduced the royal requests for money, and defended the foreign policy\nof Charles I. and Buckingham, and afterwards the actions of the king.\nHis actual appointment as secretary dates from September 1625. Disliked\nby the leaders of the popular party, his speeches in the House of\nCommons did not improve the king's position, but when Charles ruled\nwithout a parliament he found Coke's industry very useful to him. The\nsecretary retained his post until 1639, when a scapegoat was required to\nexpiate the humiliating treaty of Berwick with the Scots, and the\nscapegoat was Coke. Dismissed from office, he retired to his estate at\nMelbourne in Derbyshire, and then resided in London, dying at Tottenham\non the 8th of September 1644. Coke's son, Sir John Coke, sided with the\nparliament in its struggle with the king, and it is possible that in\nlater life Coke's own sympathies were with this party, although in his\nearlier years he had been a defender of absolute monarchy. Coke, who\ngreatly disliked the papacy, is described by Clarendon as \"a man of very\nnarrow education and a narrower mind\"; and again he says, \"his cardinal\nperfection was industry and his most eminent infirmity covetousness.\"\n\n\n\n\nCOKE, THOMAS (1747-1814), English divine, the first Methodist bishop,\nwas born at Brecon, where his father was a well-to-do apothecary. He was\neducated at Jesus College, Oxford, taking the degree of M.A. in 1770 and\nthat of D.C.L. in 1775. From 1772 to 1776 he was curate at South\nPetherton in Somerset, whence his rector dismissed him for adopting the\nopen-air and cottage services introduced by John Wesley, with whom he\nhad become acquainted. After serving on the London Wesleyan circuit he\nwas in 1782 appointed president of the conference in Ireland, a position\nwhich he frequently held, in the intervals of his many voyages to\nAmerica. He first visited that country in 1784, going to Baltimore as\n\"superintendent\" of the Methodist societies in the new world and, in\n1787 the American conference changed his title to \"bishop,\" a\nnomenclature which he tried in vain to introduce into the English\nconference, of which he was president in 1797 and 1805. Failing this, he\nasked Lord Liverpool to make him a bishop in India, and he was voyaging\nto Ceylon when he died on the 3rd of May 1814. Coke had always been a\nmissionary enthusiast, and was the pioneer of such enterprise in his\nconnexion. He was an ardent opponent of slavery, and endeavoured also to\nheal the breach between the Methodist and Anglican communions. He\npublished a _History of the West Indies_ (3 vols., 1808-1811), several\nvolumes of sermons, and, with Henry Moore, a _Life of Wesley_ (1792).\n\n\n\n\nCOKE (a northern English word, possibly connected with \"colk,\" core),\nthe product obtained by strongly heating coal out of contact with the\nair until the volatile constituents are driven off; it consists\nessentially of carbon, the so-called \"fixed carbon,\" together with the\nincombustible matters or ash contained in the coal from which it is\nderived. In addition to these it almost invariably contains small\nquantities of hydrogen, oxygen and nitrogen, the whole, however, not\nexceeding 2 or 3%. It also contains water, the amount of which may vary\nconsiderably according to the method of manufacture. When produced\nrapidly and at a low heat, as in gas-making, it is of a dull black\ncolour, and a loose spongy or pumice-like texture, and ignites with\ncomparative ease, though less readily than bituminous coal, so that it\nmay be burnt in open fire-places; but when a long-continued heat is\nused, as in the preparation of coke for iron and steel melting, the\nproduct is hard and dense, is often prismatic in structure, has a\nbrilliant semi-metallic lustre and silvery-grey colour, is a conductor\nof heat and electricity, and can only be burnt in furnaces provided with\na strong chimney draught or an artificial blast. The strength and\ncohesive properties are also intimately related to the nature and\ncomposition of the coals employed, which are said to be caking or\nnon-caking according to the compact or fragmentary character of the coke\nproduced.\n\nFormerly coke was made from large coal piled in heaps with central\nchimneys like those of the charcoal burner, or in open rectangular\nclamps or kilns with air flues in the enclosing walls; but these methods\nare now practically obsolete, closed chambers or ovens being generally\nused. These vary considerably in construction, but may be classified\ninto three principal types:--(1) direct heated ovens, (2) flue-heated\novens, (3) condensing ovens. In the first class the heating is done by\ndirect contact or by burning the gases given off in coking within the\noven, while in the other two the heating is indirect, the gas being\nburned in cellular passages or flues provided in the walls dividing the\ncoking chambers, and the heat transmitted through the sides of the\nlatter which are comparatively thin. The arrangement is somewhat similar\nto that of a gas-works retort, whence the name of \"retort ovens\" is\nsometimes applied to them. The difference between the second and third\nclasses is founded on the treatment of the gases. In the former the gas\nis fired in the side flues immediately upon issuing from the oven, while\nin the latter the gases are first subjected to a systematic treatment in\ncondensers, similar to those used in gas-works, to remove tar, ammonia\nand condensable hydrocarbons, the incondensable gases being returned to\nthe oven and burned in the heating flues. These are generally known as\n\"by-product ovens.\"\n\n\n    Beehive oven.\n\n  The simplest form of coke oven, and probably that still most largely\n  used, is the so-called \"beehive oven.\" This is circular in plan, from\n  7 to 12 ft. in diameter, with a cylindrical wall about 2-1\/2 ft. high\n  and a nearly hemispherical roof with a circular hole at the top. The\n  floor, made of refractory bricks or slabs, is laid with a slight <DW72>\n  towards an arched opening in the ring wall, which is stopped with\n  brickwork during the coking but opened for drawing the finished\n  charge. The ovens are usually arranged in rows or banks of 20 to 30 or\n  more, with their doors outwards, two rows being often placed with a\n  longitudinal flue between them connected by uptakes with the\n  individual ovens on either side. A railway along the top of the bank\n  brings the coal from the screens or washery. The largest ovens take a\n  charge of about 5 tons, which is introduced through the hole in the\n  roof, the brickwork of the empty oven being still red hot from the\n  preceding charge, and when levelled fills the cylindrical part nearly\n  to the springing of the roof. The gas fires as it is given off and\n  fills the dome with flame, and the burning is regulated by air\n  admitted through holes in the upper part of the door stopping. The\n  temperature being very high, a proportion of the volatile hydrocarbons\n  is decomposed, and a film of graphitic carbon is deposited on the\n  coke, giving it a semi-metallic lustre and silvery grey colour. When\n  the gas is burned off, the upper part of the door is opened and the\n  glowing charge cooled by jets of water thrown directly upon it from a\n  hose, and it is subsequently drawn out through the open door. The\n  charge breaks up into prisms or columns whose length corresponds to\n  the depth of the charge, and as a rule is uniform in character and\n  free from dull black patches or \"black ends.\" The time of burning is\n  either 48 or 72 hours, the turns being so arranged as to avoid the\n  necessity of drawing the ovens on Sunday. The longer the heat is\n  continued the denser the product becomes, but the yield also\n  diminishes, as a portion of the finished coke necessarily burns to\n  waste when the gas is exhausted. For this reason the yield on the coal\n  charged is usually less than that obtained in retort ovens, although\n  the quality may be better. Coals containing at most about 35% of\n  volatile matter are best suited for the beehive oven. With less than\n  25% the gas is not sufficient to effect the coking completely, and\n  when there is a higher percentage the coke is brittle and spongy and\n  unsuited for blast furnace or foundry use. The spent flame from the\n  ovens passes to a range of steam boilers before escaping by the\n  chimney.\n\n\n    Retort oven.\n\n  The retort oven, which is now generally displacing the beehive form in\n  new installations, is made in a great variety of forms, the\n  differences being mainly in the arrangement of the heating flues, but\n  all have the central feature, the coking chamber, in common. This is a\n  tubular chamber with vertical sides and cylindrical roof, about 30 ft.\n  long, from 17 to 20 in. wide, and 6 or 7 ft. high, and closed at both\n  ends by sliding doors which are raised by crab winches when the charge\n  is to be drawn. The general arrangements of such an oven are shown in\n  fig. 1, which represents one of the earliest and most popular forms,\n  that of Evence Coppee of Brussels. The coking chambers A B connect by\n  rectangular posts at the springing of the roof, where the gas given\n  off from the top of the charge is fired by air introduced through _c\n  c_. The flames pass downwards through the parallel flues _f f_ along\n  the bottom flue of one oven, and return in the opposite direction\n  under the next to the chimney flue, a further part of the heat being\n  intercepted by placing a range of steam boilers between the ovens and\n  the chimney stack. The charging of the oven is done through the\n  passages D D in the roof from small wagons on transverse lines of\n  rails, the surface being raked level before the doors are closed and\n  luted up. The time of coking is much less than in the beehive ovens\n  and may be from 24 to 36 hours, according to the proportion of\n  volatile matter present. When the gas is completely given off the\n  doors are lifted and the charge is pushed out by the ram--a cast-iron\n  plate of the shape of the cross section of the oven, at the end of a\n  long horizontal bar, which is driven by a rack and pinion movement and\n  pushes the block of coke out of the oven on to the wharf or bank in\n  front where it falls to pieces and is immediately quenched by jets of\n  water from a hose pipe. When sufficiently cooled it is loaded into\n  railway wagons or other conveyances for removal. The ram, together\n  with its motor, and boiler when steam is used, is mounted upon a\n  carriage running upon a line of rails of about 2 ft. gauge along the\n  back of the range of ovens, so that it can be brought up to any one of\n  them in succession.\n\n  [Illustration: FIG. 1.--Coppee's Coke Oven.]\n\n  In some cases, instead of the small coal being charged through the\n  roof of the oven and levelled by hand, it is formed into blocks by\n  being stamped in a slightly moistened condition in a mould consisting\n  of a bottom plate or peel on a racked rod like that of the ram, with\n  movable sides and ends. This, when the ends are removed, is pushed\n  forward into the oven, and the bottom plate is withdrawn by reversing\n  the rack motion. The moulding box is mounted on a carriage like that\n  of the ram, the two being sometimes carried on the same framing. The\n  moulding is done at a fixed station in the centre of the range of\n  ovens by a series of cast-iron stampers driven by an electric motor.\n  This system is useful for coals low in volatile matter, which do not\n  give a coherent coke under ordinary conditions.\n\n\n    Condensing ovens.\n\n  In the distilling or by-product ovens the gases, instead of being\n  burned at the point of origin, pass by an uptake pipe in the roof\n  about the centre of the oven into a water-sealed collecting trough or\n  hydraulic main, whence they are drawn by exhausters through a series\n  of air and water cooled condensers and scrubbers. In the first or\n  atmospheric condensers the tar is removed, and in the second\n  ammoniacal water, which is further enriched by a graduated system of\n  scrubbing with weak ammoniacal liquor until it is sufficiently\n  concentrated to be sent to the ammonia stills. The first treatment by\n  scrubbing with creosote or heavy tar oil removes benzene, after which\n  the permanent gaseous residue consisting chiefly of hydrogen and marsh\n  gas is returned to the ovens as fuel.\n\n  In the Otto-Hoffmann oven, one of the most generally used forms,\n  vertical side flues like those of Coppee are adopted. The returned gas\n  enters by a horizontal flue along the bottom of the coking chamber,\n  divided into two parts by a mid-feather wall, and is fired by heated\n  air from a Siemens regenerator on the substructure at one end, and the\n  flame rising through one half of the side flues to a parallel\n  collector at the top returns downwards through the flues of the other\n  half and passes out to the chimney through a similar regenerator at\n  the other end. The course of the gases is reversed at intervals of\n  about an hour, as in the ordinary Siemens furnace, each end of the\n  oven having its own gas supply. In the later modification known as the\n  Otto-Hilgenstock, the regenerators are abandoned, but provision is\n  made for more perfect distribution of the heat by a line of sixteen\n  Bunsen burners in each wall; each of these serves two flues, the\n  course of the flame being continuously upwards without reversal. In\n  the newest Otto ovens the same system of burners is combined with\n  regenerators. In the Bauer system, another vertical flue oven, each\n  flue has its own burner, which is of a simplified construction.\n\n  In the Carves oven, the earliest of the by-product ovens, the heating\n  flues are arranged horizontally in parallel series along the entire\n  length of the side walls, the gas being introduced from both ends but\n  at different levels. This system was further developed by H. Simon of\n  Manchester, who added a continuous air \"recuperator\" heated by the\n  spent flame; this Simon-Carves system has been extensively adopted in\n  Great Britain. Another horizontal flue oven, the Semet-Solvay, is\n  distinguished by the structure of the flues, which are independent of\n  the dividing walls of the ovens, so that the latter can be made with\n  thinner sides than those of the earlier systems, and are more readily\n  repaired. In the horizontal ovens it is sometimes difficult to\n  maintain the heat when the flues are continuous along the whole length\n  of the wall, especially when the heating value of the gas is reduced\n  by the removal of the heavy hydrocarbons. This difficulty is met by\n  dividing the flues in the middle so as to shorten the length of travel\n  of the flame, and working each end independently. The Hussener and\n  Koppers systems are two of the best-known examples of this\n  modification.\n\n  Coke from retort ovens is not so dense or brilliant as that made in\n  beehive ovens, but the waste being less there is a decided saving,\n  apart from the value of the condensed products. In one instance the\n  coke was found to be about 5% less efficient in the blast furnace,\n  while the yield on the coal charged was increased 10%. In the further\n  treatment of the condensed products by distillation the tar gives\n  burning oil and pitch, the benzene is separated from the creosote oil\n  by steam-heated stills, and the ammoniacal liquor, after some lime has\n  been added to decompose fixed ammonium compounds, is heated to\n  vaporize the ammonia, which is condensed in lead or copper-lined tanks\n  containing strong sulphuric acid to produce a crystalline powder of\n  ammonium sulphate, which accumulates in the receiver and is fished out\n  from time to time. The yield of by-products averages about 1% of\n  ammonium sulphate, about 3-1\/2% of tar, and 0.6 to 0.9% of benzene, of\n  the weight of the coal carbonized. After the ovens have been heated\n  and steam supplied for the machinery of the condensing plant and the\n  coke ovens, there is usually a surplus of gas, which may be used for\n  lighting or driving gas-engines. For the latter purpose, however, it\n  is necessary to remove the last traces of tar, which acts very\n  prejudicially in fouling the valves when the gas is not completely\n  purified. The gas given off during the earlier part of the coking\n  process is richer in heavy hydrocarbons and of a higher illuminating\n  value than that of the later period when the temperature is higher.\n  This property is utilized in several large coking plants in America,\n  where the gas from the first ten hours' working is drawn off by a\n  second hydraulic main and sent directly to town gas-works, where it\n  passes through the ordinary purifying treatment, the gas from the\n  second period being alone used for heating the ovens.\n\nCoke is essentially a partially graphitized carbon, its density being\nabout midway between that of coal and graphite, and it should therefore\noccupy less space than the original coal; but owing to the softening of\nthe charge a spongy structure is set up by the escaping gases, which\nacts in the other direction, so that for equal bulk coke is somewhat\nlighter than coal. It is this combination of properties that gives it\nits chief value in iron smelting, the substance being sufficiently dense\nto resist oxidation by carbon dioxide in the higher regions of the\nfurnace, while the vesicular structure gives an extended surface for the\naction of heated air and facilitates rapid consumption at the tuyeres.\nCompact coke, such as that formed on the inner sides of gas retorts\n(retort carbon), can only be burned with great difficulty in small\nfurnaces of special construction, but it gives out a great amount of\nheat.\n\nThe most deleterious constituents of coke are ash, sulphur and volatile\nconstituents including water. As the coke yield is only from two-thirds\nto three-quarters of that of the coal, the original proportion of ash is\naugmented by one-third or one-half in the product. For this reason it is\nnow customary to crush and wash the coal carefully to remove\nintermingled patches of shale and dirt before coking, so that the ash\nmay not if possible exceed 10% in the coke. About one-half of the\nsulphur in the coal is eliminated in coking, so that the percentage in\nthe coke is about the same. It should not be much above 1%. According to\nthe researches of F. Wuest (_Journ. Iron and Steel Inst._, 1906) the\nsulphur is retained in a complex carbon compound which is not destroyed\nuntil the coke is actually consumed.\n\n  The older methods of coking and the earlier forms of retort ovens are\n  described in J. Percy, _Metallurgy_, Jordan, _Album du cours de\n  metallurgie_; Phillips and Bauerman, _Handbook of Metallurgy_, and\n  other text-books. A systematic series of articles on the newer forms\n  will be found in _The Engineer_, vol. 82, pp. 205-303 and vol. 83, pp.\n  207-231; see also Durre, _Die neuern Koksofen_ (Leipzig, 1892); D. A.\n  Louis, \"Von Bauer and Brunck Ovens,\" _Journ. Iron and Steel Inst._,\n  1904, ii. p. 293; C. L. Bell, \"Hussener Oven,\" _id._, 1904, i. p. 188;\n  Hurez, \"A Comparison of Different Systems of Vertical and Horizontal\n  Flue Ovens,\" _Bull. soc. industrie minerale_, 1903, p. 777. A\n  well-illustrated description of the Otto system in its American\n  modification was issued by the United Gas & Coke Company of New York,\n  in 1906.     (H. B.)\n\n\n\n\nCOL (Fr. for \"neck,\" Lat. _collum_), in physical geography, generally\nany marked depression upon a high and rugged water-parting over which\npassage is easy from one valley to another. Such is the Col de Balme\nbetween the Trient and Chamounix valleys, where the great inaccessible\nwall crowned with aiguilles running to the massif of Mt. Blanc is broken\nby a gentle downward curve with smooth upland <DW72>s, over which a\nfootpath gives easy passage. The col is usually formed by the\nhead-waters of a stream eating backward and lowering the water-parting\nat the head of its valley. In early military operations, the march of an\narmy was always over a col, which has at all times considerable\ncommercial importance in relation to roads in high mountain regions.\n\n\n\n\nCOLBERT, JEAN BAPTISTE (1619-1683), French statesman, was born at Reims,\nwhere his father and grandfather were merchants. He claimed to be the\ndescendant of a noble Scottish family, but the evidence for this is\nlacking. His youth is said to have been spent in a Jesuit college, in\nthe office of a Parisian banker, and in that of a Parisian notary,\nChapelain, the father of the poet. But the first fact on which we can\nrely with confidence is that, when not yet twenty, he obtained a post in\nthe war-office, by means of the influence that he possessed through the\nmarriage of one of his uncles to the sister of Michel Le Tellier, the\nsecretary of state for war. During some years he was employed in the\ninspection of troops and other work of the kind, but at length his\nability, his extraordinary energy and his untiring laboriousness induced\nLe Tellier to make him his private secretary. These qualities, combined,\nit must be confessed, with a readiness to seize every opportunity of\nadvancement, soon brought Colbert both wealth and influence. In 1647 we\nfind him receiving the confiscated goods of his uncle Pussort, in 1648\nobtaining 40,000 crowns with his wife Marie Charron, in 1649 appointed\ncouncillor of state.\n\nIt was the period of the wars of the Fronde; and in 1651 the triumph of\nthe Conde family drove Cardinal Mazarin from Paris. Colbert, now aged\nthirty-two, was engaged to keep him acquainted with what should happen\nin the capital during his absence. At first Colbert's position was far\nfrom satisfactory; for the close wary Italian treated him merely as an\nordinary agent. On one occasion, for example, he offered him 1000\ncrowns. The gift was refused somewhat indignantly; and by giving proof\nof the immense value of his services, Colbert gained all that he\ndesired. His demands were not small; for, with an ambition mingled, as\nhis letters show, with strong family affection, he aimed at placing all\nhis relatives in positions of affluence and dignity; and many a rich\nbenefice and important public office was appropriated by him to that\npurpose. For these favours, conferred upon him by his patron with no\nstinted hand, his thanks were expressed in a most remarkable manner; he\npublished a letter defending the cardinal from the charge of ingratitude\nwhich was often brought against him, by enumerating the benefits that he\nand his family had received from him (April 1655). Colbert obtained,\nbesides, the higher object of his ambition; the confidence of Mazarin,\nso far as it was granted to any one, became his, and he was entrusted\nwith matters of the gravest importance. In 1659 he was giving directions\nas to the suppression of the revolt of the gentry which threatened in\nNormandy, Anjou and Poitou, with characteristic decision arresting those\nwhom he suspected, and arranging every detail of their trial, the\nimmediate and arbitrary destruction of their castles and woods, and the\nexecution of their chief, Bonnesson. In the same year we have evidence\nthat he was already planning his great attempt at financial reform. His\nearliest tentative was the drawing up of a _memoire_ to Mazarin, showing\nthat of the taxes paid by the people not one-half reached the king. The\npaper also contained an attack upon the superintendent Nicholas Fouquet\n(q.v.), and being opened by the postmaster of Paris, who happened to be\na spy of Fouquet's, it gave rise to a bitter quarrel, which, however,\nMazarin repressed during his lifetime.\n\nIn 1661 the death of Mazarin allowed Colbert to take the first place in\nthe administration, and he made sure of the king's favour by revealing\nto him some of Mazarin's hidden wealth. It was some time before he\nassumed official dignities; but in January 1664 he obtained the post of\nsuperintendent of buildings; in 1665 he was made controller-general; in\n1669 he became minister of the marine; and he was also appointed\nminister of commerce, the colonies and the king's palace. In short, he\nsoon acquired power in every department except that of war.\n\nA great financial and fiscal reform at once claimed all his energies.\nNot only the nobility, but many others who had no legal claim to\nexemption, paid no taxes; the weight of the burden fell on the wretched\ncountry-folk. Colbert sternly and fearlessly set about his task.\nSupported by the young king, Louis XIV., he aimed the first blow at the\ngreatest of the extortioners--the bold and powerful superintendent,\nFouquet; whose fall, in addition, secured his own advancement.\n\nThe office of superintendent and many others dependent upon it being\nabolished the supreme control of the finances was vested in a royal\ncouncil. The sovereign was its president; but Colbert, though for four\nyears he only possessed the title of intendant, was its ruling spirit,\ngreat personal authority being conferred upon him by the king. The\ncareer on which Colbert now entered must not be judged without constant\nremembrance of the utter rottenness of the previous financial\nadministration. His ruthlessness in this case, dangerous precedent as it\nwas, was perhaps necessary; individual interests could not be respected.\nGuilty officials having been severely punished, the fraudulent creditors\nof the government remained to be dealt with. Colbert's method was\nsimple. Some of the public loans were totally repudiated, and from\nothers a percentage was cut off, which varied, at first according to his\nown decision, and afterwards according to that of the council which he\nestablished to examine all claims against the state.\n\nMuch more serious difficulties met his attempts to introduce equality in\nthe pressure of the taxes on the various classes. To diminish the number\nof the privileged was impossible, but false claims to exemption were\nfirmly resisted, and the unjust direct taxation was lightened by an\nincrease of the indirect taxes, from which the privileged could not\nescape. The mode of collection was at the same time immensely improved.\n\nOrder and economy being thus introduced into the working of the\ngovernment, the country, according to Colbert's vast yet detailed plan,\nwas to be enriched by commerce. Manufactures were fostered in every way\nhe could devise. New industries were established, inventors protected,\nworkmen invited from foreign countries, French workmen absolutely\nprohibited to emigrate. To maintain the character of French goods in\nforeign markets, as well as to afford a guarantee to the home consumer,\nthe quality and measure of each article were fixed by law, breach of the\nregulations being punished by public exposure of the delinquent and\ndestruction of the goods, and, on the third offence, by the pillory. But\nwhatever advantage resulted from this rule was more than compensated by\nthe disadvantages it entailed. The production of qualities which would\nhave suited many purposes of consumption was prohibited, and the odious\nsupervision which became necessary involved great waste of time and a\nstereotyped regularity which resisted all improvements. And other parts\nof Colbert's schemes deserve still less equivocal condemnation. By his\nfirm maintenance of the corporation system, each industry remained in\nthe hands of certain privileged bourgeois; in this way, too, improvement\nwas greatly discouraged; while to the lower classes opportunities of\nadvancement were closed. With regard to international commerce Colbert\nwas equally unfortunate in not being in advance of his age; the tariffs\nhe published were protective to an extreme. The interests of internal\ncommerce were, however, wisely consulted. Unable to abolish the duties\non the passage of goods from province to province, he did what he could\nto induce the provinces to equalize them. The roads and canals were\nimproved. The great canal of Languedoc was planned and constructed by\nPierre Paul Riquet (1604-1680) under his patronage. To encourage trade\nwith the Levant, Senegal, Guinea and other places, privileges were\ngranted to companies; but, like the more important East India Company,\nall were unsuccessful. The chief cause of this failure, as well as of\nthe failure of the colonies, on which he bestowed so much watchful care,\nwas the narrowness and rigidity of the government regulations.\n\nThe greatest and most lasting of Colbert's achievements was the\nestablishment of the French marine. The royal navy owed all to him, for\nthe king thought only of military exploits. For its use, Colbert\nreconstructed the works and arsenal of Toulon, founded the port and\narsenal of Rochefort, and the naval schools of Rochefort, Dieppe and\nSaint-Malo, and fortified, with some assistance from Vauban (who,\nhowever, belonged to the party of his rival Louvois), among other ports\nthose of Calais, Dunkirk, Brest and Havre. To supply it with recruits\nhe invented his famous system of classes, by which each seaman,\naccording to the class in which he was placed, gave six months' service\nevery three or four or five years. For three months after his term of\nservice he was to receive half-pay; pensions were promised; and, in\nshort, everything was done to make the navy popular. There was one\ndepartment, however, that was supplied with men on a very different\nprinciple. Letters exist written by Colbert to the judges requiring them\nto sentence to the oar as many criminals as possible, including all\nthose who had been condemned to death; and the convict once chained to\nthe bench, the expiration of his sentence was seldom allowed to bring\nhim release. Mendicants also, against whom no crime had been proved,\ncontraband dealers, those who had been engaged in insurrections, and\nothers immeasurably superior to the criminal class, nay, innocent\nmen--Turkish, Russian and <DW64> slaves, and poor Iroquois Indians, whom\nthe Canadians were ordered to entrap--were pressed into that terrible\nservice. By these means the benches of the galleys were filled, and\nColbert took no thought of the long unrelieved agony borne by those who\nfilled them.\n\nNor was the mercantile marine forgotten. Encouragement was given to the\nbuilding of ships in France by allowing a premium on those built at\nhome, and imposing a duty on those brought from abroad; and as French\nworkmen were forbidden to emigrate, so French seamen were forbidden to\nserve foreigners on pain of death.\n\nEven ecclesiastical affairs, though with these he had no official\nconcern, did not altogether escape Colbert's attention. He took a\nsubordinate part in the struggle between the king and Rome as to the\nroyal rights over vacant bishoprics; and he seems to have sympathized\nwith the proposal that was made to seize part of the wealth of the\nclergy. In his hatred of idleness, he ventured to suppress no less than\nseventeen fetes, and he had a project for lessening the number of those\ndevoted to clerical and monastic life, by fixing the age for taking the\nvows some years later than was then customary. With heresy he was at\nfirst unwilling to interfere, for he was aware of the commercial value\nof the Huguenots; but when the king resolved to make all France Roman\nCatholic, he followed him and urged his subordinates to do all that they\ncould to promote conversions.\n\nIn art and literature Colbert took much interest. He possessed a\nremarkably fine private library, which he delighted to fill with\nvaluable manuscripts from every part of Europe where France had placed a\nconsul. He has the honour of having founded the Academy of Sciences (now\ncalled the Institut de France), the Observatory, which he employed\nClaude Perrault to build and brought G. D. Cassini (1625-1712) from\nItaly to superintend, the Academies of Inscriptions and Medals, of\nArchitecture and of Music, the French Academy at Rome, and Academies at\nArles, Soissons, Nimes and many other towns, and he reorganized the\nAcademy of Painting and Sculpture which Richelieu had established. He\nwas a member of the French Academy; and one very characteristic rule,\nrecorded to have been proposed by him with the intention of expediting\nthe great Dictionary, in which he was much interested, was that no one\nshould be accounted present at any meeting unless he arrived before the\nhour of commencement and remained till the hour for leaving. In 1673 he\npresided over the first exhibition of the works of living painters; and\nhe enriched the Louvre with hundreds of pictures and statues. He gave\nmany pensions to men of letters, among whom we find Moliere, Corneille,\nRacine, Boileau, P. D. Huet (1630-1721) and Antoine Varillas\n(1626-1696), and even foreigners, as Huyghens, Vossius the geographer,\nCarlo Dati the Dellacruscan, and Heinsius the great Dutch scholar. There\nis evidence to show that by this munificence he hoped to draw out\npraises of his sovereign and himself; but this motive certainly is far\nfrom accounting for all the splendid, if in some cases specious,\nservices that he rendered to literature, science and art.\n\nIndeed to everything that concerned the interests of France Colbert\ndevoted unsparing thought and toil. Besides all that has been\nmentioned, he found time to do something for the better administration\nof justice (the codification of ordinances, the diminishing of the\nnumber of judges, the reduction of the expense and length of trials for\nthe establishment of a superior system of police) and even for the\nimprovement of the breed of horses and the increase of cattle. As\nsuperintendent of public buildings he enriched Paris with boulevards,\nquays and triumphal arches; he relaid the foundation-stone of the\nLouvre, and brought Bernin from Rome to be its architect; and he erected\nits splendid colonnade upon the plan of Claude Perrault, by whom Bernin\nhad been replaced. He was not permitted, however, to complete the work,\nbeing compelled to yield to the king's preference for residences outside\nParis, and to devote himself to Marly and Versailles.\n\nAmid all these public labours his private fortune was never neglected.\nWhile he was reforming the finances of the nation, and organizing its\nnavy, he always found time to direct the management of his smallest\nfarm. He died extremely rich, and left fine estates all over France. He\nhad been created marquis de Seignelay, and for his eldest son he\nobtained the reversion of the office of minister of marine; his second\nson became archbishop of Rouen; and a third son, the marquis d'Ormoy,\nbecame superintendent of buildings.\n\nTo carry out his reforms, Colbert needed peace; but the war department\nwas in the hands of his great rival Louvois, whose influence gradually\nsupplanted that of Colbert with the king. Louis decided on a policy of\nconquest. He was deaf also to all the appeals against the other forms of\nhis boundless extravagance which Colbert, with all his deference towards\nhis sovereign, bravely ventured to make.[1] Thus it came about that,\nonly a few years after he had commenced to free the country from the\nweight of the loans and taxes which crushed her to the dust, Colbert was\nforced to heap upon her a new load of loans and taxes more heavy than\nthe last. Henceforth his life was a hopeless struggle, and the financial\nand fiscal reform which, with the great exception of the establishment\nof the navy, was the most valuable service to France contemplated by\nhim, came to nought.\n\nDepressed by his failure, deeply wounded by the king's favour for\nLouvois, and worn out by overwork, Colbert's strength gave way at a\ncomparatively early age. In 1680 he was the constant victim of severe\nfevers, from which he recovered for a time through the use of quinine\nprescribed by an English physician. But in 1683, at the age of\nsixty-four, he was seized with a fatal illness, and on the 6th of\nSeptember he expired. It was said that he died of a broken heart, and a\nconversation with the king is reported in which Louis disparagingly\ncompared the buildings of Versailles, which Colbert was superintending,\nwith the works constructed by Louvois in Flanders. He took to bed, it is\ntrue, immediately afterwards, refusing to receive all messages from the\nking; but his constitution was utterly broken before, and a post-mortem\nexamination proved that he had been suffering from stone. His body was\ninterred in the secrecy of night, for fear of outrage from the\nParisians, by whom his name was cordially detested.\n\nColbert was a great statesman, who did much for France. Yet his insight\ninto political science was not deeper than that of his age; nor did he\npossess any superiority in moral qualities. His rule was a very bad\nexample of over-government. He did not believe in popular liberty;, the\nparlements and the states-general received no support from him. The\ntechnicalities of justice he never allowed to interfere with his plans;\nbut he did not hesitate to shield his friends. He trafficked in public\noffices for the profit of Mazarin and in his own behalf. He caused the\nsuffering of thousands in the galleys; he had no ear, it is said, for\nthe cry of the suppliant. There was indeed a more human side to his\ncharacter, as is shown in his letters, full of wise advice and\naffectionate care, to his children, his brothers, his cousins even. Yet\nto all outside he was \"the man of marble.\" Madame de Sevigne called him\n\"the North.\" To diplomacy he never pretended; persuasion and deceit were\nnot the weapons he employed; all his work was carried out by the iron\nhand of authority. He was a great statesman in that he conceived a\nmagnificent yet practicable scheme for making France first among\nnations, and in that he possessed a matchless faculty for work, neither\nshrinking from the vastest undertakings nor scorning the most trivial\ndetails.\n\n  Numerous _vies_ and _eloges_ of Colbert have been published; but the\n  most thorough student of his life and administration was Pierre\n  Clement, member of the Institute, who in 1846 published his _Vie de\n  Colbert_, and in 1861 the first of the 9 vols. of the _Lettres,\n  instructions, et memoires de Colbert_. The historical introductions\n  prefixed to each of these volumes have been published by Mme. Clement\n  under the title of the _Histoire de Colbert et de son administration_\n  (3rd ed., 1892). The best short account of Colbert as a statesman is\n  that in Lavisse, _Histoire de France_ (1905), which gives a thorough\n  study of the administration. Among Colbert's papers are _Memoires sur\n  les affaires de finance de France_ (written about 1663), a fragment\n  entitled _Particularites secretes de la vie du Roy_, and other\n  accounts of the earlier part of the reign of Louis XIV.     (J. T. S.)\n\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n  [1] See especially a _Memoire_ presented to the king in 1666,\n    published in the _Lettres, &c., de Colbert_, vol. ii.\n\n\n\n\nCOLBERT DE CROISSY, CHARLES, MARQUIS (1625-1696), French diplomatist,\nlike his elder brother Jean Baptiste Colbert, began his career in the\noffice of the minister of war Le Tellier. In 1656 he bought a\ncounsellorship at the parlement of Metz, and in 1658 was appointed\nintendant of Alsace and president of the newly-created sovereign council\nof Alsace. In this position he had to re-organize the territory recently\nannexed to France. The steady support of his brother at court gained for\nhim several diplomatic missions--to Germany and Italy (1659-1661). In\n1662 he became marquis de Croissy and _president a mortier_ of the\nparlement of Metz. After various intendancies, at Soissons (1665), at\nAmiens (1666), and at Paris (1667), he turned definitely to diplomacy.\nIn 1668 he represented France at the conference of Aix-la-Chapelle; and\nin August of the same year was sent as ambassador to London, where he\nwas to negotiate the definite treaty of alliance with Charles II. He\narranged the interview at Dover between Charles and his sister Henrietta\nof Orleans, gained the king's personal favour by finding a mistress for\nhim, Louise de Keroualle, maid of honour to Madame, and persuaded him to\ndeclare war against Holland. The negotiation of the treaty of Nijmwegen\n(1676-1678) still further increased his reputation as a diplomatist and\nLouis XIV. made him secretary of state for foreign affairs after the\ndisgrace of Arnauld de Pomponne, brought about by his brother, 1679. He\nat once assumed the entire direction of French diplomacy. Foreign\nambassadors were no longer received and diplomatic instructions were no\nlonger given by other secretaries of state. It was he, not Louvois, who\nformed the idea of annexation during a time of peace, by means of the\nchambers of reunion. He had outlined this plan as early as 1658 with\nregard to Alsace. His policy at first was to retain the territory\nannexed by the chambers of reunion without declaring war, and for this\npurpose he signed treaties of alliance with the elector of Brandenburg\n(1681), and with Denmark (1683); but the troubles following upon the\nrevocation of the edict of Nantes (1685) forced him to give up his\nscheme and to prepare for war with Germany (1688). The negotiations for\npeace had been begun again when he died, on the 28th of July 1696. His\nclerk, Bergeret, was his invaluable assistant.\n\n  BIBLIOGRAPHY.--His papers, preserved in the _Archives des affaires\n  etrangeres_ at Paris, have been partially published in the _Recueil\n  des instructions donnees aux ambassadeurs et ministres de France_\n  (since 1884). See especially the volumes:--_Autriche_ (t. i.), _Suede_\n  (t. ii.), _Rome_ (t. vi.), _Baviere_ (t. viii.), _Savoie_ (t. xiv.),\n  _Prusse_ (t. xvi.). Other documents have been published in Mignet's\n  _Negociations relatives a la succession d'Espagne_, vol. iv., and in\n  the collection of _Lettres et negociations ... pour la paix de\n  Nimegue_, 1676-1677 (La Haye, 1710). In addition to the _Memoires_ of\n  the time, see Spanheim, _Relation de la cour de France en 1690_, ed.\n  E. Bourgeois (Paris and Lyons, 1900); Baschet, _Histoire du depot des\n  affaires etrangeres_; C. Rousset, _Histoire de Louvois_ (4 vols.,\n  Paris, 1863); E. Bourgeois, \"Louvois, et Colbert de Croissy,\" in the\n  _Revue historique_, vol. xxxiv. (1887); A. Waddington, _Le Grand\n  Electeur et Louis XIV_ (Paris, 1905); G. Pagis, _Le Grand Electeur et\n  Louis XIV_ (Paris, 1905).\n\n\n\n\nCOLBURN, HENRY (d. 1855), British publisher, obtained his earliest\nexperience of bookselling in London at the establishment of W. Earle,\nAlbemarle Street, and afterwards as an assistant at Morgan's Library,\nConduit Street, of which in 1816 he became proprietor. He afterwards\nremoved to New Burlington Street, where he established himself as a\npublisher, resigning the Conduit Street Library to Messrs Saunders &\nOtley. In 1814 he originated the _New Monthly Magazine_, of which at\nvarious times Thomas Campbell, Bulwer Lytton, Theodore Hook and Harrison\nAinsworth were editors. Colburn published in 1818 _Evelyn's Diary_, and\nin 1825 the _Diary of Pepys_, edited by Lord Braybrooke, paying L2200\nfor the copyright. He also issued Disraeli's first novel, _Vivian Grey_,\nand a large number of other works by Theodore Hook, G. P. R. James,\nMarryat and Bulwer Lytton. In 1829 Richard Bentley (q.v.) was taken into\npartnership; and in 1832 Colburn retired, but set up again soon\nafterwards independently in Great Marlborough Street; his business was\ntaken over in 1841 by Messrs Hurst & Blackett. Henry Colburn died on the\n16th of August 1855, leaving property to the value of L35,000.\n\n\n\n\nCOLBURN, ZERAH (1804-1840), American mathematical prodigy, was born at\nCabot, Vermont, on the 1st of September 1804. At a very early age he\ndeveloped remarkable powers of calculating with extreme rapidity, and in\n1810 his father began to exhibit him. As a performing prodigy he visited\nGreat Britain and France. From 1816 to 1819 he studied in Westminster\nschool, London. After the death of his father in 1824 he returned to\nAmerica, and from 1825 to 1834 he was a Methodist preacher. As he grew\nolder his extraordinary calculating powers diminished. From 1835 until\nhis death, on the 2nd of March 1840, he was professor of languages at\nthe Norwich University in Vermont. He published a _Memoir_ of his life\nin 1833.\n\nHis nephew, also named ZERAH COLBURN (1832-1870), was a well-known\nmechanical engineer; the editor successively of the _Railroad Advocate_,\nin New York, _The Engineer_, in London, and _Engineering_, in London;\nand the author of a work entitled _The Locomotive Engine_ (1851).\n\n\n\n\nCOLBY, THOMAS FREDERICK (1784-1852), British major-general and director\nof ordnance survey, was born at St Margaret's, Rochester, on the 1st of\nSeptember 1784, a member of a South Wales family. Entering the Royal\nEngineers he began in 1802 a life-long connexion with the Ordnance\nSurvey department. His most important work was the survey of Ireland.\nThis he planned in 1824, and was engaged upon it until 1846. The last\nsheets of this survey were almost ready for issue in that year when he\nreached the rank of major-general, and according to the rules of the\nservice had to vacate his survey appointment. He was the inventor of the\ncompensation bar, an apparatus used in base-measurements. He died at New\nBrighton on the 9th of October 1852.\n\n\n\n\nCOLCHAGUA, a province of central Chile, bounded N. by Santiago and\nO'Higgins, E. by Argentina, S. by Curico, and W. by the Pacific. Its\narea is officially estimated at 3856 sq. m.; pop. (1895) 157,566.\nExtending across the great central valley of Chile, the province has a\nconsiderable area devoted to agriculture, but much attention is given to\ncattle and mining. Its principal river is the Rapel, sometimes\nconsidered as the southern limit of the Inca empire. Its greatest\ntributary is the Cachapoal, in the valley of which, among the Andean\nfoothills, are the popular thermal mineral baths of Cauquenes, 2306 ft.\nabove sea-level. The state central railway from Santiago to Puerto Montt\ncrosses the province and has two branches within its borders, one from\nRengo to Peumo, and one from San Fernando via Palmilla to Pichilemu on\nthe coast. The principal towns are the capital, San Fernando, Rengo and\nPalmilla. San Fernando is one of the several towns founded in 1742 by\nthe governor-general Jose de Manso, and had a population of 7447 in\n1895. Rengo is an active commercial town and had a population of 6463 in\n1895.\n\n\n\n\nCOLCHESTER, CHARLES ABBOT, 1ST BARON (1757-1829), born at Abingdon, was\nthe son of Dr John Abbot, rector of All Saints, Colchester, and, by his\nmother's second marriage, half-brother of the famous Jeremy Bentham.\nFrom Westminster school Charles Abbot passed to Christ Church, Oxford,\nat which he gained the chancellor's medal for Latin verse as well as the\nVinerian scholarship. In 1795, after having practised twelve years as a\nbarrister, and published a treatise proposing the incorporation of the\njudicial system of Wales with that of England, he was appointed to the\noffice previously held by his brother of clerk of the rules in the\nking's bench; and in June of the same year he was elected member of\nparliament for Helston, through the influence of the duke of Leeds. In\n1796 Abbot commenced his career as a reformer in parliament by obtaining\nthe appointment of two committees--the one to report on the arrangements\nwhich then existed as to temporary laws or laws about to expire, the\nother to devise methods for the better publication of new statutes. To\nthe latter committee, and a second committee which he proposed some\nyears later, it is owing that copies of new statutes were thenceforth\nsent to all magistrates and municipal bodies. To Abbot's efforts were\nalso due the establishment of the Royal Record Commission, the reform of\nthe system which had allowed the public money to lie for some time at\nlong interest in the hands of the public accountants, by charging them\nwith payment of interest, and, most important of all, the act for taking\nthe first census, that of 1801. On the formation of the Addington\nministry in March 1801 Abbot became chief secretary and privy seal for\nIreland; and in the February of the following year he was chosen speaker\nof the House of Commons--a position which he held with universal\nsatisfaction till 1817, when an attack of erysipelas compelled him to\nretire. In response to an address of the Commons, he was raised to the\npeerage as Baron Colchester, with a pension of L4000, of which L3000 was\nto be continued to his heir. He died on the 8th of May 1829. His\nspeeches against the Roman Catholic claims were published in 1828.\n\nHe was succeeded by his eldest son CHARLES (d. 1867), postmaster-general\nin 1858; and the latter by his son REGINALD CHARLES EDWARD (b. 1842), as\n3rd baron.\n\n\n\n\nCOLCHESTER a market town, river port and municipal and parliamentary\nborough of Essex, England; 52 m. N. E. by E. from London by the Great\nEastern railway. Pop. (1901) 38,373. It lies on the river Colne, 12 m.\nfrom the open sea. Among numerous buildings of antiquarian interest the\nfirst is the ruined keep of the castle, a majestic specimen of Norman\narchitecture, the largest of its kind in England, covering nearly twice\nthe area of the White Tower in London. It was erected in the reign of\nWilliam I. or William II., and is quadrangular, turreted at the angles.\nAs in other ancient buildings in Colchester there are evidences of the\nuse of material from the Roman town which occupied the site, but it is\nclearly of Norman construction. Here is the museum of the Essex\nArchaeological Society, with a remarkable collection of Roman\nantiquities, and a library belonging to the Round family, who own the\ncastle. Among ecclesiastical buildings are remains of two monastic\nfoundations--the priory of St Botolph, founded early in the 12th century\nfor Augustinian canons, of which part of the fine Norman west front (in\nwhich Roman bricks occur), and of the nave arcades remain; and the\nrestored gateway of the Benedictine monastery of St John, founded by\nEudo, steward to William II. This is a beautiful specimen of\nPerpendicular work, embattled, flanked by spired turrets, and covered\nwith panel work. The churches of Holy Trinity, St Martin and St Leonard\nat Hythe are of antiquarian interest; the first has an apparently\npre-Norman tower and the last preserves some curious frescoes.\n\nThe principal modern buildings are the town hall, corn exchange, free\nlibrary, the Eastern Counties' asylum, Essex county hospital and\nbarracks. The town has long been an important military centre with a\nlarge permanent camp. There are a free grammar school (founded 1539), a\ntechnical and university extension college, a literary institute and\nmedical and other societies. Castle Park is a public ground surrounding\nthe castle. Colchester is the centre of an agricultural district, and\nhas extensive corn and cattle markets. Industries include founding,\nengineering, malting, flour-milling, rose-growing and the making of\nclothing and boots and shoes. The oyster fisheries at the mouth of the\nColne, for which the town has been famous for centuries, belong to the\ncorporation, and are held on a ninety-nine years' lease by the Colne\nFishery Company, incorporated under an act of 1870. The harbour, with\nquayage at the suburb of Hythe, is controlled by the corporation. The\nparliamentary borough, which is co-extensive with the municipal, returns\none member. The municipal corporation consists of a mayor, 8 aldermen\nand 24 councillors. Area 11,333 acres.\n\nThe Roman town, _Colonia Victricensis Camalodunum_ (or _Camulodunum_),\nwas of great importance. It was founded by Claudius, early in the period\nof the Roman conquest, as a municipality with discharged Roman soldiers\nas citizens, to assist the Roman dominion and spread its civilization.\nUnder Queen Boadicea the natives burned the town and massacred the\ncolonists; but Camalodunum soon rose to fresh prosperity and flourished\nthroughout the Roman period. Its walls and some other remains, including\nthe guardroom at the principal gate, can still be clearly traced, and\nmany such relics as sculptures, inscriptions, pavements and pottery have\nbeen discovered. When the borough originated is not known, but Domesday\nBook mentions two hundred and seventy-six burgesses and land _in commune\nburgensium_, a phrase that may point to a nascent municipal corporation.\nThe first charter given by Richard I. in 1189 granted the burghers leave\nto choose their bailiffs and a justice to hold the pleas of the crown\nwithin the borough, freedom from the obligation of duel, freedom of\npassage and pontage through England, free warren, fishery and custom as\nin the time of Henry I., and other privileges. An _inspeximus_ of this\ncharter by Henry III. in 1252 granted the burgesses the return of\ncertain writs. The charters were confirmed by various kings, and new\ngrants obtained in 1447 and 1535. In 1635 Charles I. granted a fresh\ncharter, which replaced the bailiffs by a mayor, and in 1653 Cromwell\naltered it to secure a permanent majority for his party on the\ncorporation. But his action was undone in 1659, and in 1663 Charles II.\ngranted a new charter. In 1684 the charters were surrendered, and a new\none obtained reserving to the crown power to remove the mayor and\nalderman, and this one was further modified by James II. But the charter\nof 1663 was confirmed in 1693 and remained in force till 1741, when the\nliberties were allowed to lapse. In 1763 George III. made the borough a\nrenewed grant of its liberties. Colchester returned two members to\nparliament from 1295 until 1885. Fairs were granted by Richard I. in\n1189 to the hospital of St Mary Magdalene, and by Edward II. in 1319 to\nthe town for the eve of and feast of St Denis and the six following\ndays--a fair which is still held. In the 13th century Colchester was\nsufficiently important as a port to pay a fee-farm of L46, its ships\nplying to Winchelsea and France. Elizabeth and James I. encouraged\nFlemish settlers in the manufacture of baize (\"bays and says\"), which\nattained great importance, so that a charter of Charles I. speaks of\nburgesses industriously exercising the manufacture of cloth. Both Camden\nand Fuller mention the trade in barrelled oysters and candied\neringo-root. The most notable event in the history of the town was its\nsiege by Fairfax in 1648, when the raw levies of the Royalists in the\nsecond civil war held his army at bay for nearly eleven weeks, only\nsurrendering when starved out, and when Cromwell's victory in the north\nmade further resistance useless. Colchester was made the see of a\nsuffragan bishop by King Henry VIII., and two bishops were in succession\nappointed by him; no further appointments, however, were made until the\nsee was re-established under Queen Victoria.\n\n  See _Victoria County History, Essex_; _Charters and Letters Patent\n  granted to the Borough of Colchester_ (Colchester, 1903); Morant,\n  _History of Colchester_ (1748); Harrod's _Report on the Records of\n  Colchester_ (1865); Cutts, _Colchester_ (Historic Towns) 1888; J. H.\n  Round, \"Colchester and the Commonwealth\" in _Eng. Hist. Rev._ vol.\n  xv.; Benham, _Red Paper Book of Colchester_ (1902), and _Oath Book of\n  Colchester_ (1907).\n\n\n\n\nCOLCHESTER, a township of Chittenden county, Vermont, U.S.A., on Lake\nChamplain, immediately N.E. of Burlington, from which it is separated by\nthe Winooski river. Pop. (1900) 5352; (1910) 6450. It is served by the\nCentral Vermont railway. The surface is generally gently rolling, and in\nplaces along the banks of the Winooski or Onion river, the shore of the\nlake, and in the valleys, it is very picturesque. At Mallett's Bay, an\narm of Lake Champlain, 2 m. long and 1-1\/2 m. wide, several large private\nschools hold summer sessions. The soil is varied, much of it being good\nmeadow land or well adapted to the growing of grain and fruit. The\ntownship has two villages: Colchester Centre, a small, quiet settlement,\nand Winooski (pop. in 1900, 3783) on the Winooski river. This stream\nfurnishes good water power, and the village has manufactories of cotton\nand woollen goods, lumber, woodenware, gold and silver plated ware,\ncarriages, wagons and screens. Within the township there is a United\nStates military reservation, Fort Ethan Allen. The village was founded\nin 1772 by Ira Allen and for many years it was known as \"Allen's\nSettlement\"; but later it was called Winooski Falls, and in 1866 it was\nincorporated as the Village of Winooski.\n\n\n\n\nCOLCHICUM, the Meadow Saffron, or Autumn Crocus (_Colchicum autumnale_),\na perennial plant of the natural order, Liliaceae, found wild in rich\nmoist meadow-land in England and Ireland, in middle and southern Europe,\nand in the Swiss Alps. It has pale-purple flowers, rarely more than\nthree in number; the perianth is funnel-shaped, and produced below into\na long slender tube, in the upper part of which the six stamens are\ninserted. The ovary is three-celled, and lies at the bottom of this\ntube. The leaves are three or four in number, flat, lanceolate, erect\nand sheathing; and there is no stem. Propagation is by the formation of\nnew corms from the parent corm, and by seeds. The latter are numerous,\nround, reddish-brown, and of the size of black mustard-seeds. The corm\nof the meadow-saffron attains its full size in June or early in July. A\nsmaller corm is then formed from the old one, close to its root; and\nthis in September and October produces the crocus-like flowers. In the\nsucceeding January or February it sends up its leaves, together with the\novary, which perfects its seeds during the summer. The young corm, at\nfirst about the diameter of the flower-stalk, grows continuously, till\nin the following July it attains the size of a small apricot. The parent\ncorm remains attached to the new one, and keeps its form and size till\nApril in the third year of its existence, after which it decays. In some\ncases a single corm produces several new plants during its second spring\nby giving rise to immature corms.\n\n_C. autumnale_ and its numerous varieties as well as other species of\nthe genus, are well known in cultivation, forming some of the most\nbeautiful of autumn-flowering plants. They are very easy to cultivate\nand do not require lifting. The most suitable soil is a light, sandy\nloam enriched with well decomposed manure, in a rather moist situation.\nThe corms should be planted not less than 3 in. deep. Propagation is\neffected by seed or increase of corms; the seed should be sown as soon\nas it is ripe in June or July.\n\nColchicum was known to the Greeks under the name of [Greek: Kolchikon],\nfrom [Greek: Kolchis], or Colchis, a country in which the plant grew;\nand it is described by Dioscorides as a poison. In the 17th century the\ncorms were worn by some of the German peasantry as a charm against the\nplague. The drug was little used till 1763, when Baron Storck of Vienna\nintroduced it for the treatment of dropsy. Its use in febrile diseases,\nat one time extensive, is now obsolete. As a specific for gout colchicum\nwas early employed by the Arabs; and the preparation known as _eau\nmedicinale_, much resorted to in the 18th century for the cure of gout,\nowes its therapeutic virtues to colchicum; but general attention was\nfirst directed by Sir Everard Home to the use of the drug in gout.\n\nFor medical purposes the corm should be collected in the early summer\nand, after the outer coat has been removed, should be sliced and dried\nat a temperature of 130 deg. to 150 deg. F.\n\nThe chief constituents of colchicum are two alkaloids, _colchicine_ and\n_veratrine_. Colchicine is the active principle and may be given in full\nform in doses of 1\/32 to 1\/16 grain. It is a yellow, micro-crystalline\npowder, soluble in water, alcohol and chloroform, and forming readily\ndecomposed salts with acids. It is the methyl ester of a neutral body\n_colchicein_, which may be obtained in white acicular crystals.\n\nThe official dose of powdered colchicum is 2 to 5 grains, which may be\ngiven in a cachet. The British Pharmacopoeia contains (1) an extract of\nthe fresh corm, having doses of 1\/4 to 1 grain, and (2) the _Vinum\nColchici_, made by treating the dried corm with sherry and given in\ndoses of 10 to 30 minims. This latter is the preparation still most\ngenerally used, though the presence of veratrine both in the corm and\nthe seeds renders the use of colchicine itself theoretically preferable.\nThe dried ripe seeds of this plant are also used in medicine. They are\nexceedingly hard and difficult to pulverize, odourless, bitter and\nreadily confused with black mustard seeds. They contain a volatile oil\nwhich does not occur in the corm, and their proportion of colchicine is\nhigher, for which reason the _Tinctura Colchici Seminum_--dose 5 to 15\nminims--is preferable to the wine prepared from the corm. At present\nthis otherwise excellent preparation is not standardized, but the\nsuggestion has been made that it should be standardized to contain 0.1%\nof colchicine. The salicylate of colchicine is stable in water and may\nbe given in doses of about one-thirtieth of a grain. It is often known\nas Colchi-Sal.\n\n_Pharmacology._--Colchicum or colchicine, when applied to the skin, acts\nas a powerful irritant, causing local pain and congestion. When inhaled,\nthe powder causes violent sneezing, similar to that produced by\nveratrine itself, which is, as already stated, a constituent of the\ncorm. Taken internally, colchicum or colchicine markedly increases the\namount of bile poured into the alimentary canal, being amongst the most\npowerful of known cholagogues. Though this action doubtless contributes\nto its remarkable therapeutic power, it is very far from being an\nadequate explanation of the virtues of the drug in gout. In larger doses\ncolchicum or colchicine acts as a most violent gastrointestinal\nirritant, causing terrible pain, colic, vomiting, diarrhoea, haemorrhage\nfrom the bowel, thirst and ultimately death from collapse. This is\naccelerated by a marked depressant action upon the heart, similar to\nthat produced by veratrine and aconite. Large doses also depress the\nnervous system, weakening the anterior horns of grey matter in the\nspinal cord so as ultimately to cause complete paralysis, and also\ncausing a partial insensibility of the cutaneous nerves of touch and\npain. The action of colchicum or colchicine upon the kidneys has been\nminutely studied, and it is asserted on the one hand that the urinary\nsolids are much diminished and, on the other hand, that they are\nmarkedly increased, the specific gravity of the secretion being much\nraised. These assertions, and the total inadequacy of the pharmacology\nof colchicum, as above detailed, to explain its specific therapeutic\nproperty, show that the secret of colchicum is as yet undiscovered.\n\nThe sole but extremely important use of this drug is as a specific for\ngout. It has an extraordinary power over the pain of acute gout; it\nlessens the severity and frequency of the attacks when given\ncontinuously between them, and it markedly controls such symptoms of\ngout as eczema, bronchitis and neuritis, whilst it is entirely\ninoperative against these conditions when they are not of gouty origin.\nDespite the general recognition of these facts, the pharmacology of\ncolchicum has hitherto thrown no light on the pathology of gout, and the\npathology of gout has thrown no light upon the manner in which colchicum\nexerts its unique influence upon this disease. Veratrine is useless in\nthe treatment of gout. A further curious fact, doubtless of very great\nsignificance, but hitherto lacking interpretation, is that the\nadministration of colchicum during an acute attack of gout may often\nhasten the oncoming of the next attack; and this property, familiar to\nmany gouty patients, may not be affected by the administration of small\ndoses after the attack. Altogether colchicum is a puzzle, and will\nremain so until the efficient poison of gout is isolated and defined.\nWhen that is done, colchicine may be found to exhibit a definite\nchemical interaction with this hitherto undiscovered substance.\n\nIn _colchicum poisoning_, empty the stomach, give white of egg, olive or\nsalad oil, and water. Use hot bottles and stimulants, especially trying\nto counteract the cardiac depression by atropine, caffeine,\nstrophanthin, &c.\n\n\n\n\nCOLCHIS, in ancient geography, a nearly triangular district of Asia\nMinor, at the eastern extremity of the Black Sea, bounded on the N. by\nthe Caucasus, which separated it from Asiatic Sarmatia, E. by Iberia,\nS. by the Montes Moschici, Armenia and part of Pontus, and W. by the\nEuxine. The ancient district is represented roughly by the modern\nprovince of Kutais (formerly Mingrelia). The name of Colchis first\nappears in Aeschylus and Pindar. It was inhabited by a number of tribes\nwhose settlements lay chiefly along the shore of the Black Sea. The\nchief of those were the Lazi, Moschi, Apsilae, Abasci, Sagadae, Suani\nand Coraxi. These tribes differed so completely in language and\nappearance from the surrounding nations, that the ancients originated\nvarious theories to account for the phenomenon. Herodotus, who states\nthat they, with the Egyptians and the Ethiopians, were the first to\npractise circumcision, believed them to have sprung from the relics of\nthe army of Sesostris (q.v.), and thus regarded them as Egyptians.\nApollonius Rhodius (_Argon_, iv. 279) states that the Egyptians of\nColchis preserved as heirlooms a number of wooden [Greek: kurbeis]\n(tablets) showing seas and highways with considerable accuracy. Though\nthis theory was not generally adopted by the ancients, it has been\ndefended, but not with complete success, by some modern writers. It is\nquite possible that there was an ancient trade connexion between the\nColchians and the Mediterranean peoples. We learn that women were\nburied, while the corpses of men were suspended on trees. The principal\ncoast town was the Milesian colony of Dioscurias (Roman Sebastopolis;\nmod. Sukhum Kaleh), the ancient name being preserved in the modern C.\nIskuria. The chief river was the Phasis (mod. Rion). From Colchis is\nderived the name of the plant Colchicum (q.v.).\n\nColchis was celebrated in Greek mythology as the destination of the\nArgonauts, the home of Medea and the special domain of sorcery. Several\nGreek colonies were founded there by Miletus. At a remote period it\nseems to have been incorporated with the Persian empire, though the\ninhabitants evidently enjoyed a considerable degree of independence; in\nthis condition it was found by Alexander the Great, when he invaded\nPersia. From this time till the era of the Mithradatic wars nothing is\nknown of its history. At the time of the Roman invasion it seems to have\npaid a nominal homage to Mithradates the Great and to have been ruled\nover by Machares, his second son. On the defeat of Mithradates by\nPompey, it became a Roman province. After the death of Pompey,\nPharnaces, the son of Mithradates, rose in rebellion against the Roman\nyoke, subdued Colchis and Armenia, and made head, though but for a short\ntime, against the Roman arms. After this Colchis was incorporated with\nPontus, and the Colchians are not again alluded to in ancient history\ntill the 6th century, when, along with the Abasci or Abasgi, under their\nking Gobazes, whose mother was a Roman, they called in the aid of\nChosroes I. of Persia (541). The importance of the district, then\ngenerally called Lazica from the Lazi (cf. mod. Lazistan) who led the\nrevolt, was due to the fact that it was the only remaining bar which\nheld the Persians, already masters of Iberia, from the Black Sea. It had\ntherefore been specially garrisoned by Justinian under first Peter, a\nPersian slave, and subsequently Johannes Tzibos, who built Petra on the\ncoast as the Roman Headquarters. Tzibos took advantage of the extreme\npoverty of the Lazi to create a Roman monopoly by which he became a\nmiddleman for all the trade both export and import. Chosroes at once\naccepted the invitation of Gobazes and succeeded in capturing Petra\n(A.D. 541). The missionary zeal of the Zoroastrian priests soon caused\ndiscontent among the Christian inhabitants of Colchis, and Gobazes,\nperceiving that Chosroes intended to Persianize the district, appealed\nto Rome, with the result that in 549 one Dagisthaeus was sent out with\n7000 Romans and 1000 auxiliaries of the Tzani (Zani, Sanni). The \"Lazic\nWar\" lasted till 556 with varying success. Petra was recaptured in 551\nand Archaeopolis was held by the Romans against the Persian general\nMermeroes. Gobazes was assassinated in 552, but the Persian general\nNachoragan was heavily defeated at Phasis in 553.\n\nBy the peace of 562 the district was left in Roman possession, but\nduring the next 150 years it is improbable that the Romans exercised\nmuch authority over it. In 697 we hear of a revolt against Rome led by\nSergius the Patrician, who allied himself with the Arabs. Justinian II.\nin his second period of rule sent Leo the Isaurian, afterwards emperor,\nto induce the Alans to attack the Abasgi. The Alans, having gained\nknowledge of the district by a trick, invaded Lazica, and, probably in\n712, a Roman and Armenian army laid siege to Archaeopolis. On the\napproach of a Saracen force they retired, but a small plundering\ndetachment was cut off. Ultimately Leo joined this band and aided by the\nApsilian chief Marinus escaped with them to the coast.\n\nFrom the beginning of the 14th to the end of the 17th century the\ndistrict under the name Mingrelia (q.v.) was governed by an independent\ndynasty, the Dadians, which was succeeded by a semi-independent dynasty,\nthe Chikovans, who by 1838 had submitted to Russia, though they retained\na nominal sovereignty. In 1866 the district was finally annexed by\nRussia.\n\n  For the kings see Stokvis, _Manuel d'histoire_, i. 83.     (J. M. M.)\n\n\n\n\nCOLCOTHAR (adapted in Romanic languages from Arabic _golgotar_, which\nwas probably a corruption of the Gr. [Greek: chalkanthos], from [Greek:\nchalkos], copper, [Greek: anthos], flower, i.e. copper sulphate), a name\ngiven to the brownish-red ferric oxide formed in the preparation of\nfuming sulphuric (Nordhausen) acid by distilling ferrous sulphate. It is\nused as a polishing powder, forming the rouge of jewellers, and as the\npigment Indian red. It is also known as _Crocus Martis_.\n\n\n\n\nCOLD (in O. Eng. _cald_ and _ceald_, a word coming ultimately from a\nroot cognate with the Lat. _gelu_, _gelidus_, and common in the Teutonic\nlanguages, which usually have two distinct forms for the substantive and\nthe adjective, cf. Ger. _Kalte_, _kalt_, Dutch _koude_, _koud_),\nsubjectively the sensation which is excited by contact with a substance\nwhose temperature is lower than the normal; objectively a quality or\ncondition of material bodies which gives rise to that sensation. Whether\ncold, in the objective sense, was to be regarded as a positive quality\nor merely as absence of heat was long a debated question. Thus Robert\nBoyle, who does not commit himself definitely to either view, says, in\nhis _New Experiments and Observations touching Cold_, that \"the dispute\nwhich is the _primum frigidum_ is very well known among naturalists,\nsome contending for the earth, others for water, others for the air, and\nsome of the moderns for nitre, but all seeming to agree that there is\nsome body or other that is of its own nature supremely cold and by\nparticipation of which all other bodies obtain that quality.\" But with\nthe general acceptance of the dynamical theory of heat, cold naturally\ncame to be regarded as a negative condition, depending on decrease in\nthe amount of the molecular vibration that constitutes heat.\n\nThe question whether there is a limit to the degree of cold possible,\nand, if so, where the zero must be placed, was first attacked by the\nFrench physicist, G. Amontons, in 1702-1703, in connexion with his\nimprovements in the air-thermometer. In his instrument temperatures were\nindicated by the height at which a column of mercury was sustained by a\ncertain mass of air, the volume or \"spring\" of which of course varied\nwith the heat to which it was exposed. Amontons therefore argued that\nthe zero of his thermometer would be that temperature at which the\nspring of the air in it was reduced to nothing. On the scale he used the\nboiling-point of water was marked at 73 and the melting-point of ice at\n51-1\/2, so that the zero of his scale was equivalent to about -240 deg.\non the centigrade scale. This remarkably close approximation to the\nmodern value of -273 deg. for the zero of the air-thermometer was\nfurther improved on by J. H. Lambert (_Pyrometrie_, 1779), who gave the\nvalue -270 deg. and observed that this temperature might be regarded as\nabsolute cold. Values of this order for the absolute zero were not,\nhowever, universally accepted about this period. Laplace and Lavoisier,\nfor instance, in their treatise on heat (1780), arrived at values\nranging from 1500 deg. to 3000 deg. below the freezing-point of water,\nand thought that in any case it must be at least 600 deg. below, while\nJohn Dalton in his _Chemical Philosophy_ gave ten calculations of this\nvalue, and finally adopted -3000 deg. C. as the natural zero of\ntemperature. After J. P. Joule had determined the mechanical equivalent\nof heat, Lord Kelvin approached the question from an entirely different\npoint of view, and in 1848 devised a scale of absolute temperature which\nwas independent of the properties of any particular substance and was\nbased solely on the fundamental laws of thermodynamics (see HEAT and\nTHERMODYNAMICS). It followed from the principles on which this scale was\nconstructed that its zero was placed at -273 deg., at almost precisely\nthe same point as the zero of the air-thermometer.\n\nIn nature the realms of space, on the probable assumption that the\ninterstellar medium is perfectly transparent and diathermanous, must, as\nwas pointed out by W. J. Macquorn Rankine, be incapable of acquiring any\ntemperature, and must therefore be at the absolute zero. That, however,\nis not to say that if a suitable thermometer could be projected into\nspace it would give a reading of -273 deg.. On the contrary, not being a\ntransparent and diathermanous body, it would absorb radiation from the\nsun and other stars, and would thus become warmed. Professor J. H.\nPoynting (\"Radiation in the Solar System,\" _Phil. Trans._, A, 1903, 202,\np. 525) showed that as regards bodies in the solar system the effects of\nradiation from the stars are negligible, and calculated that by solar\nradiation alone a small absorbing sphere at the distance of Mercury from\nthe sun would have its temperature raised to 483 deg. Abs. (210 deg. C),\nat the distance of Venus to 358 deg. Abs. (85 deg. C), of the earth to\n300 deg. Abs. (27 deg. C), of Mars to 243 deg. Abs. (-30 deg. C), and of\nNeptune to only 54 deg. Abs. (-219 deg. C.). The French physicists of\nthe early part of the 19th century held a different view, and rejected\nthe hypothesis of the absolute cold of space. Fourier, for instance,\npostulated a fundamental temperature of space as necessary for the\nexplanation of the heat-effects observed on the surface of the earth,\nand estimated that in the interplanetary regions it was little less than\nthat of the terrestrial poles and below the freezing-point of mercury,\nthough it was different in other parts of space (_Ann. chim. phys._,\n1824, 27, pp. 141, 150). C. S. M. Pouillet, again, calculated the\ntemperature of interplanetary space as -142 deg. C. (_Comptes rendus_,\n1838, 7, p. 61), and Sir John Herschel as -150 deg. (_Ency. Brit._, 8th\ned., art. \"Meteorology,\" p. 643).\n\nTo attain the absolute zero in the laboratory, that is, to deprive a\nsubstance entirely of its heat, is a thermodynamical impossibility, and\nthe most that the physicist can hope for is an indefinitely close\napproach to that point. The lowest steady temperature obtainable by the\nexhaustion of liquid hydrogen is about -262 deg. C. (11 deg. Abs.), and\nthe liquefaction of helium by Professor Kamerlingh Onnes in 1908 yielded\na liquid having a boiling-point of about 4.3 deg. Abs., which on\nexhaustion must bring us to within about 2-1\/2 degrees of the absolute\nzero. (See LIQUID GASES.)\n\n  For a \"cold,\" in the medical sense, see CATARRH and Respiratory\n  System: _Pathology_.\n\n\n\n\nCOLDEN, CADWALLADER (1688-1776), American physician and colonial\nofficial, was born at Duns, Scotland, on the 17th of February 1688. He\ngraduated at the university of Edinburgh in 1705, spent three years in\nLondon in the study of medicine, and emigrated to America in 1708. After\npractising medicine for ten years in Philadelphia, he was invited to\nsettle in New York by Governor Hunter, and in 1718 was appointed the\nfirst surveyor-general of the colony. Becoming a member of the\nprovincial council in 1720, he served for many years as its president,\nand from 1761 until his death was lieutenant-governor; for a\nconsiderable part of the time, during the interim between the\nappointment of governors, he was acting-governor. About 1755 he retired\nfrom medical practice. As early as 1729 he had built a country house\ncalled Coldengham on the line between Ulster and Orange counties, where\nhe spent much of his time until 1761. Aristocratic and extremely\nconservative, he had a violent distrust of popular government and a\nstrong aversion to the popular party in New York. Naturally he came into\nfrequent conflict with the growing sentiment in the colony in opposition\nto royal taxation. He was acting-governor when in 1765 the stamped paper\nto be used under the Stamp Act arrived in the port of New York; a mob\nburned him in effigy in his own coach in Bowling Green, in sight of the\nenraged acting-governor and of General Gage; and Colden was compelled to\nsurrender the stamps to the city council, by whom they were locked up\nin the city hall until all attempts to enforce the new law were\nabandoned. Subsequently Colden secured the suspension of the provincial\nassembly by an act of parliament. He understood, however, the real\ntemper of the patriot party, and in 1775, when the outbreak of\nhostilities seamed inevitable, he strongly advised the ministry to act\nwith caution and to concede some of the colonists' demands. When the war\nbegan, he retired to his Long Island country seat, where he died on the\n28th of September 1776. Colden was widely known among scientists and men\nof letters in England and America. He was a life-long student of botany,\nand was the first to introduce in America the classification system of\nLinnaeus, who gave the name \"Coldenia\" to a newly recognized genus. He\nwas an intimate friend of Benjamin Franklin. He wrote several medical\nworks of importance in their day, the most noteworthy being _A Treatise\non Wounds and Fevers_ (1765); he also wrote _The History of the Five\nIndian Nations depending on the Province of New York_ (1727, reprinted\n1866 and 1905), and an elaborate work on _The Principles of Action in\nMatter_ (1751) which, with his _Introduction to the Study of Physics_\n(c. 1756), his _Enquiry into the Principles of Vital Motion_ (1766), and\nhis _Reflections_ (c. 1770), mark him as the first of American\nmaterialists and one of the ablest material philosophers of his day. I.\nWoodbridge Riley, in _American Philosophy_ (New York, 1907), made the\nfirst critical study of Colden's philosophy, and said of it that it\ncombined \"Newtonian mechanics with the ancient hylozoistic doctrine ...\"\nand \"ultimately reached a kind of dynamic panpsychism, substance being\nconceived as a self-acting and universally diffused principle, whose\nessence is power and force.\"\n\n  See Alice M. Keys, _Cadwallader Colden, A Representative 18th Century\n  Official_ (New York, 1906), a Columbia University doctoral\n  dissertation; J. G. Mumford, _Narrative of Medicine in America_ (New\n  York, 1903); and Asa Gray, \"Selections from the Scientific\n  Correspondence of Cadwallader Colden\" in _American Journal of\n  Science_, vol. 44, 1843.\n\nHis grandson, CADWALLADER DAVID COLDEN (1769-1834), lawyer and\npolitician, was educated in London, but returned in 1785 to New York,\nwhere he attained great distinction at the bar. He was a colonel of\nvolunteers during the war of 1812, and from 1818 to 1821 was the\nsuccessor of Jacob Radcliff as mayor of New York City. He was a member\nof the state assembly (1818) and the state senate (1825-1827), and did\nmuch to secure the construction of the Erie Canal and the organization\nof the state public school system; and in 1821-1823 he was a\nrepresentative in Congress. He wrote a _Life of Robert Fulton_ (1817)\nand a _Memoir of the Celebration of the Completion of the New York\nCanals_ (1825).\n\n\n\n\nCOLD HARBOR, OLD and NEW, two localities in Hanover county, Virginia,\nU.S.A., 10 m. N.E. of Richmond. They were the scenes of a succession of\nbattles, on May 31-June 12, 1864, between the Union forces under command\nof General U. S. Grant and the Confederates under General R. E. Lee, who\nheld a strongly entrenched line at New Cold Harbor. The main Union\nattack on June 3 was delivered by the II. (Hancock), VI. (Wright), and\nXVIII. (W. F. Smith) corps, and was brought to a standstill in eight\nminutes. An order from army headquarters to renew the attack was ignored\nby the officers and men at the front, who realized fully the strength of\nthe hostile position. These troops lost as many as 5,000 men in an\nhour's fighting, the greater part in the few minutes of the actual\nassault. In the constant fighting of 31st of May to 12th of June on this\nground Grant lost 14,000 men. (See WILDERNESS and AMERICAN CIVIL WAR.)\n\n\n\n\nCOLDSTREAM, a police burgh of Berwickshire, Scotland. Pop. (1901) 1482.\nIt is situated on the north bank of the Tweed, here spanned by John\nSmeaton's fine bridge of five arches, erected in 1763-1766, 13-1\/2 m.\nsouth-west of Berwick by the North Eastern railway. The chief public\nbuildings are the town hall, library, mechanics' institute, and cottage\nhospital. Some brewing is carried on. Owing to its position on the\nBorder and also as the first ford of any consequence above Berwick, the\ntown played a prominent part in Scottish history during many centuries.\nHere Edward I. crossed the stream in 1296 with his invading host, and\nMontrose with the Covenanters in 1640. Of the Cistercian priory, founded\nabout 1165 by Cospatric of Dunbar, and destroyed by the 1st earl of\nHertford in 1545, which stood a little to the east of the present\nmarket-place, no trace remains; but for nearly four hundred years it was\na centre of religious fervour. Here it was that the papal legate, in the\nreign of Henry VIII., published a bull against the printing of the\nScriptures; and by the irony of fate its site was occupied in the 19th\ncentury by an establishment, under Dr Adam Thomson, for the production\nof cheap Bibles. At Coldstream General Monk raised in 1659 the\ncelebrated regiment of Foot Guards bearing its name. Like Gretna Green,\nColdstream long enjoyed a notoriety as the resort of runaway couples,\nthe old toll-house at the bridge being the usual scene of the marriage\nceremony. \"Marriage House,\" as it is called, still exists in good\nrepair. Henry Brougham, afterwards lord chancellor, was married in this\nclandestine way, though in an inn and not at the bridge, in 1821.\nBirgham, 3 m. west, was once a place of no small importance, for there\nin 1188 William the Lion conferred with the bishop of Durham concerning\nthe attempt of the English Church to impose its supremacy upon Scotland;\nthere in 1289 was held the convention to consider the question of the\nmarriage of the Maid of Norway with Prince Edward of England; and there,\ntoo, in 1290 was signed the treaty of Birgham, which secured the\nindependence of Scotland. Seven miles below Coldstream on the English\nside, though 6 m. north-east of it, are the massive ruins of Norham\nCastle, made famous by Scott's _Marmion_, and from the time of its\nbuilding by Ranulph Flambard in 1121 a focus of Border history during\nfour centuries.\n\n\n\n\nCOLDWATER, a city and county-seat of Branch county, Michigan, U.S.A., on\nColdwater Stream (which connects two of the group of small lakes in the\nvicinity), about 80 m. S.S.E. of Grand Rapids. Pop. (1890) 5247; (1900)\n6216, of whom 431 were foreign-born; (1904) 6225; (1910) 5945. It is\nserved by the Lake Shore & Michigan Southern railway. It is the seat of\na state public school and temporary home (opened in 1874) for dependent,\nneglected or ill-treated children, who are received at any age under\ntwelve. The city is situated in a fine farming region, has an important\nflouring and grist mill industry, and also manufactures Portland cement,\nliniment, lumber, furniture, sashes, doors and blinds, brass castings,\nsleighs, shoes, &c. The municipality owns and operates the water-works\nand electric lighting plant. Coldwater was settled in 1829, was laid out\nas a town under the name of Lyons in 1832, received its present name in\nthe following year, was incorporated as a village in 1837, was reached\nby railway and became the county-seat in 1851, and was chartered as a\ncity in 1861.\n\n\n\n\nCOLE, SIR HENRY (1808-1882), English civil servant, was born at Bath on\nthe 15th of July 1808, and was the son of an officer in the army. At the\nage of fifteen he became clerk to Sir Francis Palgrave, then a\nsubordinate officer in the record office, and, helped by Charles Buller,\nto whom he had been introduced by Thomas Love Peacock, and who became\nchairman of a royal commission for inquiry into the condition of the\npublic records, worked his way up until he became an assistant keeper.\nHe largely assisted in influencing public opinion in support of Sir\nRowland Hill's reforms at the post office. A connexion with the Society\nof Arts caused him to drift gradually out of the record office: he was a\nleading member of the commission that organized the Great Exhibition of\n1851, and upon the conclusion of its labours was made secretary to the\nSchool of Design, which by a series of transformations became in 1853\nthe Department of Science and Art. Under its auspices the South\nKensington (now Victoria and Albert) Museum was founded in 1855 upon\nland purchased out of the surplus of the exhibition, and Cole\npractically became its director, retiring in 1873. His proceedings were\nfrequently criticized, but the museum owes much to his energy.\nIndefatigable, genial and masterful, he drove everything before him, and\nby all sorts of schemes and devices built up a great institution, whose\nvariety and inequality of composition seemed imaged in the anomalous\nstructure in which it was temporarily housed. He also, though to the\nfinancial disappointment of many, conferred a great benefit upon the\nmetropolis by originating the scheme for the erection of the Royal\nAlbert Hall. He was active in founding the national training schools for\ncookery and music, the latter the germ of the Royal College of Music. He\nedited the works of his benefactor Peacock; and was in his younger days\nlargely connected with the press, and the author of many useful\ntopographical handbooks published under the pseudonym of \"Felix\nSummerly.\" He died on the 18th of April 1882.\n\n\n\n\nCOLE, THOMAS (1801-1848), American landscape painter, was born at\nBolton-le-Moors, England, on the 1st of February 1801. In 1819 the\nfamily emigrated to America, settling first in Philadelphia and then at\nSteubenville, Ohio, where Cole learned the rudiments of his profession\nfrom a wandering portrait painter named Stein. He went about the country\npainting portraits, but with little financial success. Removing to New\nYork (1825), he displayed some landscapes in the window of an\neating-house, where they attracted the attention of the painter Colonel\nTrumbull, who sought him out, bought one of his canvases, and found him\npatrons. From this time Cole was prosperous. He is best remembered by a\nseries of pictures consisting of four canvases representing \"The Voyage\nof Life,\" and another series of five canvases representing \"The Course\nof Empire,\" the latter now in the gallery of the New York Historical\nSociety. They were allegories, in the taste of the day, and became\nexceedingly popular, being reproduced in engravings with great success.\nThe work, however, was meretricious, the sentiment false, artificial and\nconventional, and the artist's genuine fame must rest on his landscapes,\nwhich, though thin in the painting, hard in the handling, and not\ninfrequently painful in detail, were at least earnest endeavours to\nportray the world out of doors as it appeared to the painter; their\nfailings were the result of Cole's environment and training. He had an\ninfluence on his time and his fellows which was considerable, and with\nDurand he may be said to have founded the early school of American\nlandscape painters. Cole spent the years 1829-1832 and 1841-1842 abroad,\nmainly in Italy, and at Florence lived with the sculptor Greenough.\nAfter 1827 he had a studio in the Catskills which furnished the subjects\nof some of his canvases, and he died at Catskill, New York, on the 11th\nof February 1848. His pictures are in many public and private\ncollections. His \"Expulsion from Eden\" is in the Metropolitan Museum in\nNew York.\n\n\n\n\nCOLE, TIMOTHY (1852-   ), American wood engraver, was born in London,\nEngland, in 1852, his family emigrating to the United States in 1858. He\nestablished himself in Chicago, where in the great fire of 1871 he lost\neverything he possessed. In 1875 he removed to New York, finding work on\nthe _Century_ (then _Scribner's_) magazine. He immediately attracted\nattention by his unusual facility and his sympathetic interpretation of\nillustrations and pictures, and his publishers sent him abroad in 1883\nto engrave a set of blocks after the old masters in the European\ngalleries. These achieved for him a brilliant success. His reproductions\nof Italian, Dutch, Flemish and English pictures were published in book\nform with appreciative notes by the engraver himself. Though the advent\nof new mechanical processes had rendered wood engraving almost a lost\nart and left practically no demand for the work of such craftsmen, Mr\nCole was thus enabled to continue his work, and became one of the\nforemost contemporary masters of wood engraving. He received a medal of\nthe first class at the Paris Exhibition of 1900, and the only grand\nprize given for wood engraving at the Louisiana Purchase Exposition at\nSt Louis, Missouri, in 1904.\n\n\n\n\nCOLE, VICAT (1833-1893), English painter, born at Portsmouth on the 17th\nof April 1833, was the son of the landscape painter, George Cole, and in\nhis practice followed his father's lead with marked success. He\nexhibited at the British Institution at the age of nineteen, and was\nfirst represented at the Royal Academy in 1853. His election as an\nassociate of this institution took place in 1870, and he became an\nAcademician ten years later. He died in London on the 6th of April 1893.\nThe wide popularity of his work was due partly to the simple directness\nof his technical method, and partly to his habitual choice of attractive\nmaterial. Most of his subjects were found in the counties of Surrey and\nSussex, and along the banks of the Thames. One of his largest pictures,\n\"The Pool of London,\" was bought by the Chantrey Fund Trustees in 1888,\nand is now in the Tate Gallery.\n\n  See Robert Chignell, _The Life and Paintings of Vicat Cole, R.A._\n  (London, 1899).\n\n\n\n\nCOLEBROOKE, HENRY THOMAS (1765-1837), English Orientalist, the third son\nof Sir George Colebrooke, 2nd baronet, was born in London on the 15th of\nJune 1765. He was educated at home; and when only fifteen he had made\nconsiderable attainments in classics and mathematics. From the age of\ntwelve to sixteen he resided in France, and in 1782 was appointed to a\nwritership in India. About a year after his arrival there he was placed\nin the board of accounts in Calcutta; and three years later he was\nremoved to a situation in the revenue department at Tirhut. In 1789 he\nwas removed to Purneah, where he investigated the resources of that part\nof the country, and published his _Remarks on the Husbandry and Commerce\nof Bengal_, privately printed in 1795, in which he advocated free trade\nbetween Great Britain and India. After eleven years' residence in India,\nColebrooke began the study of Sanskrit; and to him was confided the\ntranslation of the great _Digest of Hindu Laws_, which had been left\nunfinished by Sir William Jones. He translated the two treatises\n_Mitacshara_ and _Dayabhaga_ under the title _Law of Inheritance_. He\nwas sent to Nagpur in 1799 on a special mission, and on his return was\nmade a judge of the new court of appeal, over which he afterwards\npresided. In 1805 Lord Wellesley appointed him professor of Hindu Law\nand Sanskrit at the college of Fort William. During his residence at\nCalcutta he wrote his _Sanskrit Grammar_ (1805), some papers on the\nreligious ceremonies of the Hindus, and his _Essay on the Vedas_ (1805),\nfor a long time the standard work on the subject. He became member of\ncouncil in 1807 and returned to England seven years later. He died on\nthe 18th of March 1837. He was a director of the Asiatic Society, and\nmany of the most valuable papers in the society's _Transactions_ were\ncommunicated by him.\n\n  His life was written by his son, Sir T. E. Colebrooke, in 1873.\n\n\n\n\nCOLEMANITE, a hydrous calcium borate, Ca2B6O11 + 5H2O, found in\nCalifornia as brilliant monoclinic crystals. It contains 50.9% of boron\ntrioxide, and is an important source of commercial borates and boracic\nacid. Beautifully developed crystals, up to 2 or 3 in. in length,\nencrust cavities in compact, white colemanite; they are colourless and\ntransparent, and the brilliant lustre of their faces is vitreous to\nadamantine in character. There is a perfect cleavage parallel to the\nplane of symmetry of the crystals. Hardness 4-4-1\/2; specific gravity\n2.42. The mineral was first discovered in 1882 in Death Valley, Inyo\ncounty, California, and in the following year it was found in greater\nabundance near Daggett in San Bernardino county, forming with other\nborates and borosilicates a bed in sedimentary strata of sandstones and\nclays; in more recent years very large masses have been found and worked\nin these localities, and also in Los Angeles county (see Special Report,\n1905, of U.S. Census Bureau on _Mines and Quarries_; and _Mineral\nResources of the U.S._, 1907).\n\nPriceite and pandermite are hydrous calcium borates with very nearly the\nsame composition as colemanite, and they may really be only impure forms\nof this species. They are massive white minerals, the former friable and\nchalk-like, and the latter firm and compact in texture. Priceite occurs\nnear Chetco in Curry county, Oregon, where it forms layers between a bed\nof slate and one of tough blue steatite; embedded in the steatite are\nrounded masses of priceite varying in size from that of a pea to masses\nweighing 200 lb. Pandermite comes from Asia Minor, and is shipped from\nthe port of Panderma on the Sea of Marmora: it occurs as large nodules,\nup to a ton in weight, beneath a thick bed of gypsum.\n\nAnother borate of commercial importance found abundantly in the\nCalifornian deposits is ulexite, also known as boronatrocalcite or\n\"cotton-ball,\" a hydrous calcium and sodium borate, CaNaB5O9 + 8H2O,\nwhich forms rounded masses consisting of a loose aggregate of fine\nfibres. It is the principal species in the borate deposits in the\nAtacama region of South America.     (L. J. S.)\n\n\n\n\nCOLENSO, JOHN WILLIAM (1814-1883), English bishop of Natal, was born at\nSt Austell, Cornwall, on the 24th of January 1814. His family were in\nembarrassed circumstances, and he was indebted to relatives for the\nmeans of university education. In 1836 he was second wrangler and\nSmith's prizeman at Cambridge, and in 1837 he became fellow of St\nJohn's. Two years later he went to Harrow as mathematical tutor, but the\nstep proved an unfortunate one. The school was just then at the lowest\nebb, and Colenso not only had few pupils, but lost most of his property\nby a fire. He went back to Cambridge, and in a short time paid off heavy\ndebts by diligent tutoring and the proceeds of his series of manuals of\nalgebra (1841) and arithmetic (1843), which were adopted all over\nEngland. In 1846 he became rector of Forncett St Mary, Norfolk, and in\n1853 he was appointed bishop of Natal. He at once devoted himself to\nacquiring the Zulu language, of which he compiled a grammar and a\ndictionary, and into which he translated the New Testament and other\nportions of Scripture. He had already given evidence, in a volume of\nsermons dedicated to Maurice, that he was not satisfied with the\ntraditional views about the Bible. The puzzling questions put to him by\nthe Zulus strengthened him in this attitude and led him to make a\ncritical examination of the Pentateuch. His conclusions, positive and\nnegative, were published in a series of treatises on the Pentateuch,\nextending from 1862 to 1879, and, being in advance of his time, were\nnaturally disputed in England with a fervour of conviction equal to his\nown. On the continent they attracted the notice of Abraham Kuenen, and\nfurthered that scholar's investigations.\n\nWhile the controversy raged in England, the South African bishops, whose\nsuspicions Colenso had already incurred by the liberality of his views\nrespecting polygamy among native converts and by a commentary upon the\nEpistle to the Romans (1861), in which he combated the doctrine of\neternal punishment, met in conclave to condemn him, and pronounced his\ndeposition (December 1863). Colenso, who had refused to appear before\ntheir tribunal otherwise than as sending a protest by proxy, appealed to\nthe privy council, which pronounced that the metropolitan of Cape Town\n(Robert Gray) had no coercive jurisdiction and no authority to interfere\nwith the bishop of Natal. No decision, therefore, was given upon the\nmerits of the case. His adversaries, though unable to obtain his\ncondemnation, succeeded in causing him to be generally inhibited from\npreaching in England, and Bishop Gray not only excommunicated him but\nconsecrated a rival bishop for Natal (W. K. Macrorie), who, however,\ntook his title from Maritzburg. The contributions of the missionary\nsocieties were withdrawn, but an attempt to deprive him of his episcopal\nincome was frustrated by a decision of the courts. Colenso, encouraged\nby a handsome testimonial raised in England, to which many clergymen\nsubscribed, returned to his diocese, and devoted the latter years of his\nlife to further labours as a biblical commentator and translator. He\nalso championed the cause of the natives against Boer oppression and\nofficial encroachments, a course by which he made more enemies among the\ncolonists than he had ever made among the clergy. He died at Durban on\nthe 20th of June 1883. His daughter Frances Ellen Colenso (1840-1887)\npublished two books on the relations of the Zulus to the British (1880\nand 1885), taking a pro-Zulu view; and an elder daughter, Harriette E.\nColenso (b. 1847), became prominent as an advocate of the natives in\nopposition to their treatment by Natal, especially in the case of\nDinizulu in 1888-1889 and in 1908-1909.\n\n  See his _Life_ by Sir G. W. Cox (2 vols., London, 1888).\n\n\n\n\nCOLENSO, a village of Natal on the right or south bank of the Tugela\nriver, 16 m. by rail south by east of Ladysmith. It was the scene of an\naction fought on the 15th of December 1899 between the British forces\nunder Sir Redvers Buller and the Boers, in which the former were\nrepulsed. (See LADYSMITH.)\n\n\n\n\nCOLEOPTERA, a term used in zoological classification for the true\nbeetles which form one of the best-marked and most natural of the orders\ninto which the class Hexapoda (or Insecta) has been divided. For the\nrelationship of the Coleoptera to other orders of insects see HEXAPODA.\nThe name (Gr. [Greek: koleos], a sheath, and [Greek: ptera], wings) was\nfirst used by Aristotle, who noticed the firm protective sheaths,\nserving as coverings for the hind-wings which alone are used for flight,\nwithout recognizing their correspondence with the fore-wings of other\ninsects.\n\nThese firm fore-wings, or elytra (fig. 1, A), are usually convex above,\nwith straight hind margins (_dorsa_); when the elytra are closed, the\ntwo hind margins come together along the mid-dorsal line of the body,\nforming a _suture_. In many beetles the hind-wings are reduced to mere\nvestiges useless for flight, or are altogether absent, and in such cases\nthe two elytra are often fused together at the suture; thus organs\noriginally intended for flight have been transformed into an armour-like\ncovering for the beetle's hind-body. In correlation with their heavy\nbuild and the frequent loss of the power of flight, many beetles are\nterrestrial rather than aerial in habit, though a large proportion of\nthe order can fly well.\n\nAristotle's term was adopted by Linnaeus (1758), and has been\nuniversally used by zoologists. The identification of the elytra of\nbeetles with the fore-wings of other insects has indeed been questioned\n(1880) by F. Meinert, who endeavoured to compare them with the tegulae\nof Hymenoptera, but the older view was securely established by the\ndemonstration in pupal elytra by J. G. Needham (1898) and W. L. Tower\n(1903), of nervures similar to those of the hind-wing, and by the proof\nthat the small membranous structures present beneath the elytra of\ncertain beetles, believed by Meinert to represent the whole of the true\nfore-wings, are in reality only the alulae.\n\n_Structure._--Besides the conspicuous character of the elytra, beetles\nare distinguished by the adaptation of the jaws for biting, the\nmandibles (fig. 1, Bb) being powerful, and the first pair of maxillae\n(fig. 1, Bc) usually typical in form. The maxillae of the second pair\n(fig. 1, Bd) are very intimately fused together to form what is called\nthe \"lower lip\" or labium, a firm transverse plate representing the\nfused basal portions of the maxillae, which may carry a small median\n\"ligula,\" representing apparently the fused inner maxillary lobes, a\npair of paraglossae (outer maxillary lobes), and a pair of palps. The\nfeelers of beetles differ greatly in the different families (cf. figs.\n2b, 9b and 26b, c); the number of segments is usually eleven, but may\nvary from two to more than twenty.\n\nThe head is extended from behind forwards, so that the crown\n(epicranium) is large, while the face (clypeus) is small. The chin\n(gula) is a very characteristic sclerite in beetles, absent only in a\nfew families, such as the weevils. There is usually a distinct labrum\n(fig. 1, Ba).\n\nThe prothorax is large and \"free,\" i.e. readily movable on the\nmesothorax, an arrangement usual among insects with the power of rapid\nrunning. The tergite of the prothorax (pronotum) is prominent in all\nbeetles, reaching back to the bases of the elytra and forming a\nsubstantial shield for the front part of the body. The tergal regions of\nthe mesothorax and of the metathorax are hidden under the pronotum and\nthe elytra when the latter are closed, except that the mesothoracic\nscutellum is often visible--a small triangular or semicircular plate\nbetween the bases of the elytra (fig. 1, A). The ventral region of the\nthoracic skeleton is complex, each segment usually possessing a median\nsternum with paired episterna (in front) and epimera (behind). The\narticular surfaces of the haunches (coxae) of the fore-legs are often\nconical or globular, so that each limb works in a ball-and-socket joint,\nwhile the hind haunches are large, displacing the ventral sclerites of\nthe first two abdominal segments (fig. 1, C). The legs themselves (fig.\n1, A) are of the usual insectan type, but in many families one, two, or\neven three of the five foot-segments may be reduced or absent. In\nbeetles of aquatic habit the intermediate and hind legs are modified as\nswimming-organs (fig. 2, a), while in many beetles that burrow into the\nearth or climb about on trees the fore-legs are broadened and\nstrengthened for digging, or lengthened and modified for clinging to\nbranches. The hard fore-wings (elytra) are strengthened with marginal\nridges, usually inflected ventrally to form epipleura which fit\naccurately along the edges of the abdomen. The upper surface of the\nelytron is sharply folded inwards at intervals, so as to give rise to a\nregular series of external longitudinal furrows (striae) and to form a\nset of supports between the two chitinous layers forming the elytron.\nThe upper surface often shows a number of impressed dots (punctures).\nAlong the sutural border of the elytron, the chitinous lamella forms a\ntubular space within which are numerous glands. The glands occur in\ngroups, and lead into common ducts which open in several series along\nthe suture. Sometimes the glands are found beneath the disk of the\nelytron, opening by pores on the surface. The hind-wings, when\ndeveloped, are characteristic in form, possessing a sub-costal nervure\nwith which the reduced radial nervure usually becomes associated. There\nare several curved median and cubital nervures and a single anal, but\nfew cross nervures or areolets. The wing, when not in use, is folded\nboth lengthwise and transversely, and doubled up beneath the elytron; to\npermit the transverse folding, the longitudinal nervures are\ninterrupted.\n\n[Illustration: FIG. 1.--Structure of Male Stag-Beetle (_Lucanus\ncervus_). A, Dorsal view; B, mouth organs; C, under side.]\n\n[Illustration: FIG. 2.--Water Beetles (_Dyticidae_). a, Beetle; b, head\nof beetle with feelers and palps; c, larva; d, pupa.]\n\nTen segments can be recognized--according to the studies of K. W.\nVerhoeff (1804-1896)--in a beetle's abdomen, but the tenth sternite is\nusually absent. On account of the great extension of the metathorax and\nthe haunches of the large hind-legs, the first abdominal sternite is\nwanting, and the second is usually so much reduced that the foremost\napparent ventral sclerite of the abdomen represents the third sternite.\nFrom this point backwards the successive abdominal segments, as far as\nthe seventh or eighth, can be readily made out. The ninth and tenth\nsegments are at most times retracted within the eighth. The female can\nprotrude a long flexible tube in connexion with the eighth segment,\ncarrying the sclerites of the ninth at its extremity, and these\nsclerites may carry short hairy processes--the stylets. This flexible\ntube is the functional ovipositor, the typical insectan ovipositor with\nits three pairs of processes (see HEXAPODA) being undeveloped among the\nColeoptera. In male beetles, however, the two pairs of genital processes\n(paramera) belonging to the ninth abdominal segment are always present,\nthough sometimes reduced. Between them is situated, sometimes\nasymmetrically, the prominent intromittent organ.\n\nIn the structure of the digestive system, beetles resemble most other\nmandibulate insects, the food-canal consisting of gullet, crop, gizzard,\nmid-gut or stomach, intestine and rectum. The stomach is beset\nthroughout its length with numerous small, finger-like caecal tubes. The\nexcretory (malpighian) tubes are few in number, either four or six. Many\nbeetles have, in connexion with the anus, glands which secrete a\nrepellent acid fluid, serving as a defence for the insect when attacked.\nThe \"bombardier\" ground beetles (fig. 5) have this habit. Oil-beetles\n(figs. 23 and 24) and ladybirds (fig. 32) defend themselves by ejecting\ndrops of fluid from the knee-joints. The nervous system is remarkably\nconcentrated in some beetles, the abdominal ganglia showing a tendency\nto become shifted forward and crowded together, and in certain chafers\nall the thoracic and abdominal ganglia are fused into a single\nnerve-centre situated in the thorax,--a degree of specialization only\nmatched in the insectan class among the Hemiptera and some muscid flies.\n\n  _Development._--The embryonic development (see HEXAPODA) has been\n  carefully studied in several genera of beetles. As regards growth\n  after hatching, all beetles undergo a \"complete\" metamorphosis, the\n  wing-rudiments developing beneath the cuticle throughout the larval\n  stages, and a resting pupal stage intervening between the last larval\n  instar[1] and the imago. The coleopterous pupa (figs. 2d, 3c) is\n  always \"free,\" the legs, wings and other appendages not being fixed\n  to the body as in the pupa of a moth, and the likeness of pupa to\n  perfect insect is very close.\n\n  The most striking feature in the development of beetles is the great\n  diversity noticeable in the outward form of the larva in different\n  families. The larva of a ground-beetle or a carnivorous water-beetle\n  (fig. 2 c) is an active elongate grub with well-armoured cuticle. The\n  head--carrying feelers, mandibles and two pairs of maxillae--is\n  succeeded by the three thoracic segments, each bearing a pair of\n  strong five-segmented legs, whose feet, like those of the adult, carry\n  two claws. Ten segments can be distinguished in the tapering abdomen,\n  the ninth frequently bearing a pair of tail-feelers (cerci), and the\n  tenth, attached ventrally to the ninth, having the anal opening at its\n  extremity and performing the function of a posterior limb, supporting\n  and temporarily fixing the tail end of the insect on the surface over\n  which it crawls. Such a typically \"campodeiform\" grub, moving actively\n  about in pursuit of prey, is the one extreme of larval structure to be\n  noticed among the Coleoptera. The other is exemplified by the white,\n  wrinkled, soft-skinned, legless grub of a weevil, which lives\n  underground feeding on roots, or burrows in the tissues of plants\n  (fig. 3 b). Between these two extremes we find various transitional\n  forms: an active larva, as described above, but with four-segmented,\n  single-clawed legs, as among the rove-beetles and their allies; the\n  body well armoured, but slender and worm-like, with very short legs as\n  in wireworms and mealworms (figs. 18, 21 b); the body shortened, with\n  the abdomen swollen, but protected with tubercles and spines, and with\n  longish legs adapted for an active life, as in the predaceous larvae\n  of ladybirds; the body soft-skinned, swollen and caterpillar-like,\n  with legs well developed, but leading a sluggish underground life, as\n  in the grub of a chafer; the body soft-skinned and whitish, and the\n  legs greatly reduced in size, as in the wood-feeding grub of a\n  longhorn beetle. In the case of certain beetles whose larvae do not\n  find themselves amid appropriate food from the moment of hatching, but\n  have to migrate in search of it, an early larval stage, with legs, is\n  followed by later sluggish stages in which legs have disappeared,\n  furnishing examples of what is called hypermetamorphosis. For example,\n  the grub of a pea or bean beetle (_Bruchus_) is hatched, from the egg\n  laid by its mother on the carpel of a leguminous flower, with three\n  pairs of legs and spiny processes on the prothorax. It bores through\n  and enters the developing seed, where it undergoes a moult and becomes\n  legless. Similarly the newly-hatched larva of an oil-beetle (_Meloe_)\n  is an active little campodeiform insect, which, hatched from an egg\n  laid among plants, waits to attach itself to a passing bee. Carried to\n  the bee's nest, it undergoes a moult, and becomes a fat-bodied grub,\n  ready to lead a quiet life feeding on the bee's rich food-stores.\n\n[Illustration: From Chittenden, _Yearbook_, 1894, U.S. Dept. of\nAgriculture.\n\nFIG. 3.--Grain Weevils. a, _Calandra granaria_; b, larva; c, pupa; d,\n_C. oryzae_.]\n\n_Distribution and Habits._--The Coleoptera are almost world-wide in\ntheir distribution, being represented in the Arctic regions and on\nalmost all oceanic islands. Most of the dominant families--such as the\n_Carabidae_ (ground-beetles), _Scarabaeidae_ (chafers), or\n_Curculionidae_ (weevils) have a distribution as wide as the order. But\nwhile some large families, such as the _Staphylinidae_ (rove-beetles)\nare especially abundant on the great northern continents, becoming\nscarcer in the tropics, others, the _Cicindelidae_ (tiger-beetles), for\nexample, are most strongly represented in the warmer regions of the\nearth, and become scarce as the collector journeys far to south or\nnorth. The distribution of many groups of beetles is restricted in\ncorrespondence with their habits; the _Cerambycidae_ (longhorns), whose\nlarvae are wood-borers, are absent from timberless regions, and most\nabundant in the great tropical forests. Some families are very\nrestricted in their range. The _Amphizoidae_, for example, a small\nfamily of aquatic beetles, are known only from western North America and\nEastern Tibet, while an allied family, the _Pelobiidae_, inhabit the\nBritish Isles, the Mediterranean region, Tibet and Australia. The\nbeetles of the British islands afford some very interesting examples of\nrestricted distribution among species. For example, large and\nconspicuous European beetles, such as the stag-beetle (fig. 1, _Lucanus\ncervus_) and the great water-beetle (_Hydrophilus piceus_, fig. 20), are\nconfined to eastern and southern Britain, and are unknown in Ireland. On\nthe other hand, there are Arctic species like the ground-beetle,\n_Pelophila borealis_, and south-western species like the boring weevil,\n_Mesites Tardyi_, common in Ireland, and represented in northern or\nwestern Britain, but unknown in eastern Britain or in Central Europe.\nCareful study of insular faunas, such as that of Madeira by T. V.\nWollaston, and of the Sandwich Islands by D. Sharp, and the comparison\nof the species found with those of the nearest continental land, furnish\nthe student of geographical distribution with many valuable and\nsuggestive facts.\n\nNotes on habit are given below in the accounts of the various families.\nIn general it may be stated that beetles live and feed in almost all the\ndiverse ways possible for insects. There are carnivores, herbivores and\nscavengers among them. Various species among those that are predaceous\nattack smaller insects, hunt in packs crustaceans larger than\nthemselves, insert their narrow heads into snail-shells to pick out and\ndevour the occupants, or pursue slugs and earthworms underground. The\nvegetable-feeders attack leaves, herbaceous or woody stems and roots;\nfrequently different parts of a plant are attacked in the two active\nstages of the life-history; the cockchafers, for example, eating leaves,\nand their grubs gnawing roots. Some of the scavengers, like the burying\nbeetles, inter the bodies of small vertebrates to supply food for\nthemselves and their larvae, or, like the \"sacred\" beetle of Egypt,\ncollect for the same purpose stores of dung. Many beetles of different\nfamilies have become the \"unbidden guests\" of civilized man, and may be\nfound in dwelling-houses, stores and ships' cargoes, eating food-stuffs,\npaper, furniture, tobacco and drugs. Hence we find that beetles of some\nkind can hold their own anywhere on the earth's surface. Some climb\ntrees and feed on leaves, while others tunnel between bark and wood.\nSome fly through the air, others burrow in the earth, while several\nfamilies have become fully adapted to life in fresh water. A large\nnumber of beetles inhabit the deep limestone caves of Europe and North\nAmerica, while many genera and some whole families are at home nowhere\nbut in ants' nests. Most remarkable is the presence of a number of\nbeetles along the seashore between tide-marks, where, sheltered in some\nsecure nook, they undergo immersion twice daily, and have their active\nlife confined to the few hours of the low ebb.\n\n_Stridulating Organs._--Many beetles make a hissing or chirping sound by\nrubbing a \"scraper,\" formed by a sharp edge or prominence on some part\nof their exoskeleton, over a \"file\" formed by a number of fine ridges\nsituate on an adjacent region. These stridulating organs were mentioned\nby C. Darwin as probable examples of the action of sexual selection;\nthey are, however, frequently present in both sexes, and in some\nfamilies also in the larvae. An account of the principal types of\nstridulators that have been described has been published by C. J. Gahan\n(1900). The file may be on the head--either upper or lower surface--and\nthe scraper formed by the front edge of the prothorax, as in various\nwood-boring beetles (_Anobium_ and _Scolytus_). Or ridged areas on the\nsides of the prothorax may be scraped by \"files\" on the front thighs, as\nin some ground-beetles. Among the longhorn beetles, the prothorax\nscrapes over a median file on the mid-dorsal aspect of the mesothorax.\nIn a large number of beetles of different families, stridulating areas\noccur on various segments of the abdomen, and are scraped by the elytra.\nIt is remarkable that these organs are found in similar positions in\ngenera belonging to widely divergent families, while two genera of the\nsame family may have them in different positions. It follows, therefore,\nthat they have been independently acquired in the course of the\nevolution of the Coleoptera.\n\nStridulating organs among beetle-larvae have been noted, especially in\nthe wood-feeding grub of the stag-beetles (_Lucanidae_) and their allies\nthe _Passalidae_, and in the dung-eating grubs of the dor-beetles\n(_Geotrupes_), which belong to the chafer family (_Scarabaeidae_). These\norgans are described by J. C. Schiodte and D. Sharp; in the stag-beetle\nlarva a series of short tubercles on the hind-leg is drawn across the\nserrate edge of a plate on the haunch of the intermediate legs, while in\nthe Passalid grub the modified tip of the hind-leg acts as a scraper,\nbeing so shortened that it is useless for locomotion, but highly\nspecialized for producing sound. Whatever may be the true explanation of\nstridulating organs in adult beetles, sexual selection can have had\nnothing to do with the presence of these highly-developed larval\nstructures. It has been suggested that the power of stridulation would\nbe advantageous to wood-boring grubs, the sound warning each of the\nposition of its neighbour, so that adjacent burrowers may not get in\neach other's way. The root-feeding larvae of the cockchafer and allied\nmembers of the _Scarabaeidae_ have a ridged area on the mandible, which\nis scraped by teeth on the maxillae, apparently forming a stridulating\norgan.\n\n_Luminous Organs._--The function of the stridulating organs just\ndescribed is presumably to afford means of recognition by sound. Some\nbeetles emit a bright light from a portion of their bodies, which leads\nto the recognition of mate or comrade by sight. In the wingless female\nglow-worm (_Lampyris_, fig. 15 f) the luminous region is at the hinder\nend, the organ emitting the light consisting, according to H. von\nWielowiejski (1882), of cells similar to those of the fat-body,\ncontaining a substance that undergoes oxidation. The illumination is\nintermittent, and appears to be under the control of the insect's\nnervous system. The well-known \"fire-flies\" of the tropics are large\nclick-beetles (_Elateridae_), that emit light from paired spots on the\nprothorax and from the base of the ventral abdominal region. The\nluminous organs of these beetles consist of a specialized part of the\nfat-body, with an inner opaque and an outer transparent layer. Its\nstructure has been described by C. Heinemann, and its physiology by R.\nDubois (1886), who considers that the luminosity is due to the influence\nof an enzyme in the cells of the organ upon a special substance in the\nblood. The eggs and larvae of the fire-flies are luminous as well as the\nperfect beetles.\n\n_Fossil History._--The Coleoptera can be traced back farther in time\nthan any other order of insects with complete transformations, if the\nstructures that have been described from the Carboniferous rocks of\nGermany are really elytra. In the Triassic rocks of Switzerland remains\nof weevils (_Curculionidae_) occur, a family which is considered by many\nstudents the most specialized of the order. And when we know that the\n_Chrysomelidae_ and _Buprestidae_ also lived in Triassic, and the\n_Carabidae_, _Elateridae_, _Cerambycidae_ and _Scarabaeidae_, in Liassic\ntimes, we cannot doubt that the great majority of our existing families\nhad already been differentiated at the beginning of the Mesozoic epoch.\nComing to the Tertiary we find the Oligocene beds of Aix, of east\nPrussia (amber) and of Colorado, and the Miocene of Bavaria, especially\nrich in remains of beetles, most of which can be referred to existing\ngenera.\n\n_Classification._--The Coleoptera have been probably more assiduously\nstudied by systematic naturalists than any other order of insects. The\nnumber of described species can now hardly be less than 100,000, but\nthere is little agreement as to the main principles of a natural\nclassification. About eighty-five families are generally recognized; the\ndifficulty that confronts the zoologists is the arrangement of these\nfamilies in \"superfamilies\" or \"sub-orders.\" Such obvious features as\nthe number of segments in the foot and the shape of the feeler were\nused by the early entomologists for distinguishing the great groups of\nbeetles. The arrangement dependent on the number of tarsal segments--the\norder being divided into tribes _Pentamera_, _Tetramera_, _Heteromera_\nand _Trimera_--was suggested by E. L. Geoffroy in 1762, adopted by P. A.\nLatreille, and used largely through the 19th century. W. S. Macleay's\nclassification (1825), which rested principally on the characters of the\nlarvae, is almost forgotten nowadays, but it is certain that in any\nsystematic arrangement which claims to be natural the early stages in\nthe life-history must receive due attention. In recent years\nclassifications in part agreeing with the older schemes but largely\noriginal, in accord with researches on the comparative anatomy of the\ninsects, have been put forward. Among the more conservative of these may\nbe mentioned that of D. Sharp (1899), who divides the order into six\ngreat series of families: _Lamellicornia_ (including the chafers and\nstag-beetles and their allies with five-segmented feet and plate-like\nterminal segments to the feelers); _Adephaga_ (carnivorous, terrestrial\nand aquatic beetles, all with five foot-segments); _Polymorpha_\n(including a heterogeneous assembly of families that cannot be fitted\ninto any of the other groups); _Heteromera_ (beetles with the fore and\nintermediate feet five-segmented, and the hind-feet four-segmented);\n_Phytophaga_ (including the leaf-beetles, and longhorns, distinguished\nby the apparently four-segmented feet), and _Rhynchophora_ (the weevils\nand their allies, with head prolonged into a snout, and feet with four\nsegments). L. Ganglbauer (1892) divides the whole order into two\nsub-orders only, the _Caraboidea_ (the _Adephaga_ of Sharp and the older\nwriters) and the _Cantharidoidea_ (including all other beetles), since\nthe larvae of _Caraboidea_ have five-segmented, two-clawed legs, while\nthose of all other beetles have legs with four segments and a single\nclaw. A. Lameere (1900) has suggested three sub-orders, the\n_Cantharidiformia_ (including the _Phytophaga_, the _Heteromera_, the\n_Rhynchophora_ and most of the _Polymorpha_ of Sharp's classification),\nthe _Staphyliniformia_ (including the rove-beetles, carrion-beetles and\na few allied families of Sharp's _Polymorpha_), and the _Carabidiformia_\n(_Adephaga_). Lameere's classification is founded on the number of\nabdominal sterna, the nervuration of the wings, the number of malpighian\ntubules (whether four or six) and other structural characters.\nPreferable to Lameere's system, because founded on a wider range of\nadult characters and taking the larval stages into account, is that of\nH. J. Kolbe (1901), who recognizes three sub-orders: (i.) the\n_Adephaga_; (ii.) the _Heterophaga_, including the _Staphylinoidea_, the\n_Actinorhabda_ (_Lamellicornia_), the _Heterorhabda_ (most of Sharp's\n_Polymorpha_), and the _Anchistopoda_ (the _Phytophaga_, with the\nladybirds and some allied families which Sharp places among the\n_Polymorpha_); (iii.) the _Rhynchophora_.\n\nStudents of the Coleoptera have failed to agree not only on a system of\nclassification, but on the relative specialization of some of the groups\nwhich they all recognize as natural. Lameere, for example, considers\nsome of his _Cantharidiformia_ as the most primitive Coleoptera. J. L.\nLeconte and G. H. Horn placed the _Rhynchophora_ (weevils) in a group\ndistinct from all other beetles, on account of their supposed primitive\nnature. Kolbe, on the other hand, insists that the weevils are the most\nmodified of all beetles, being highly specialized as regards their adult\nstructure, and developing from legless maggots exceedingly different\nfrom the adult; he regards the Adephaga, with their active armoured\nlarvae with two foot-claws, as the most primitive group of beetles, and\nthere can be little doubt that the likeness between larvae and adult may\nsafely be accepted as a primitive character among insects. In the\nColeoptera we have to do with an ancient yet dominant order, in which\nthere is hardly a family that does not show specialization in some point\nof structure or life-history. Hence it is impossible to form a\nsatisfactory linear series.\n\nIn the classification adopted in this article, the attempt has been made\nto combine the best points in old and recent schemes, and to avoid the\ninconvenience of a large heterogeneous group including the vast majority\nof the families.\n\n\n  ADEPHAGA.--This tribe includes beetles of carnivorous habit with five\n  segments on every foot, simple thread-like feelers with none of the\n  segments enlarged to form club or pectination, and the outer lobs\n  (galea) of the first maxilla usually two-segmented and palpiform (fig.\n  4 b). The transverse fold of the hind-wing is towards the tip, about\n  two-thirds of the wing-length from the base. At this fold the median\n  nervure stops and is joined by a cross nervure to the radial, which\n  can be distinguished throughout its length from the subcostal. There\n  are four malpighian tubules. In the ovarian tubes of Adephaga small\n  yolk-chambers alternate with the egg-chambers, while in all other\n  beetles there is only a single large yolk-chamber at the narrow end of\n  the tube. The larvae (fig. 2 c) are active, with well-chitinized\n  cuticle, often with elongate tail-feelers (cerci), and with\n  five-segmented legs, the foot-segment carrying two claws.\n\n  [Illustration: FIG. 4.--_Mormolyce phyllodes_. Java. a, Labium; b,\n  maxilla; c, labrum; d, mandible.]\n\n  The generalized arrangement of the wing-nervure and the nature of the\n  larva, which is less unlike the adult than in other beetles,\n  distinguish this tribe as primitive, although the perfect insects are,\n  in the more dominant families, distinctly specialized. Two very small\n  families of aquatic beetles seem to stand at the base of the series,\n  the _Amphizoidae_, whose larvae are broad and well armoured with short\n  cerci, and the _Pelobiidae_, which have elongate larvae, tapering to\n  the tail end, where are long paired cerci and a median process,\n  recalling the grub of a Mayfly.\n\n  [Illustration: FIG. 5.--_Pheropsophus Jurinei_. W. Africa.]\n\n  [Illustration: FIG. 6.--_Carabus rutilans_. Spain.]\n\n  The _Dyticidae_ (fig. 2) are Adephaga highly specialized for life in\n  the water, the hind-legs having the segments short, broad and fringed,\n  so as to be well adapted for swimming, and the feet without claws. The\n  metasternum is without the transverse linear impression that is found\n  in most families of Adephaga. The beetles are ovoid in shape, with\n  smooth contours, and the elytra fit over the edges of the abdomen so\n  as to enclose a supply of air, available for use when the insect\n  remains under water. The fore-legs of many male dyticids have the\n  three proximal foot-segments broad and saucer-shaped, and covered\n  with suckers, by means of which they secure a firm hold of their\n  mates. Larval dyticids (fig. 2 b) possess slender, curved, hollow\n  mandibles, which are perforated at the tip and at the base, being thus\n  adapted for sucking the juices of victims. Large dyticid larvae often\n  attack small fishes and tadpoles. They breathe by piercing the surface\n  film with the tail, where a pair of spiracles are situated. The pupal\n  stage is passed in an earthen cell, just beneath the surface of the\n  ground. Nearly 2000 species of _Dyticidae_ are known: they are\n  universally distributed, but are most abundant in cool countries. The\n  _Haliplidae_ form a small aquatic family allied to the _Dyticidae_.\n\n  [Illustration: FIG. 7.--_Cicindela sylvatica_ (Wood Tiger-Beetle).\n  Europe.]\n\n  [Illustration: FIG. 8.--_Manticora tuberculata_. S. Africa.]\n\n  The _Carabidae_, or ground-beetles, comprising 13,000 species, form\n  the largest and most typical family of the Adephaga (figs. 4, 5, 6),\n  the legs of all three pairs being alike and adapted for rapid running.\n  In many _Carabidae_ the hind-wings are reduced or absent, and the\n  elytra fused together along the suture. Many of our native species\n  spend the day lurking beneath stones, and sally forth at night in\n  pursuit of their prey, which consists of small insects, earthworms and\n  snails. But a number of the more brightly  ground-beetles run\n  actively in the sunshine. The carabid larva is an active well-armoured\n  grub with the legs and cerci variable in length. Great differences in\n  the general form of the body may be observed in the family. For\n  example, the stout, heavy body of _Carabus_ (fig. 6) contrasts\n  markedly with the wonderful flattened abdomen and elytra of\n  _Mormolyce_ (fig. 4), a Malayan genus found beneath fallen trees, a\n  situation for which its compressed shape is admirably adapted. Blind\n  _Carabidae_ form a large proportion of cave-dwelling beetles, and\n  several species of great interest live between tide-marks along the\n  seashore.\n\n  The _Cicindelidae_, or tiger-beetles (figs. 7, 8) are the most highly\n  organized of all the Adephaga. The inner lobe (lacinia) of the first\n  maxilla terminates in an articulated hook, while in the second\n  maxillae (labium) both inner and outer lobes (\"ligula\" and\n  \"para-glossae\") are much reduced. The face (clypeus) is broad,\n  extending on either side in front of the insertion of the feelers. The\n  beetles are elegant insects with long, slender legs, running quickly,\n  and flying in the sunshine. The pronotum and elytra are often adorned\n  with bright colours or metallic lustre, and marked with stripes or\n  spots. The beetles are fierce in nature and predaceous in habit, their\n  sharp toothed mandibles being well adapted for the capture of small\n  insect-victims. The larvae are more specialized than those of other\n  Adephaga, the head and prothorax being very large and broad, the\n  succeeding segments slender and incompletely chitinized. The fifth\n  abdominal segment has a pair of strong dorsal hook-like processes, by\n  means of which the larva supports itself in the burrow which it\n  excavates in the earth, the great head blocking the entrance with the\n  mandibles ready to seize on any unwary insect that may venture within\n  reach.\n\n  [Illustration: FIG. 9.\n\n    a  _Gyrinus sulcatus_ (Grooved Whirligig). Europe.\n    b  Antenna of _Gyrinus_.\n    c  Larva of _Gyrinus_.]\n\n  Two or three families may be regarded as aberrant Adephaga. The\n  _Paussidae_ are a very remarkable family of small beetles, mostly\n  tropical, found only in ants' nests, or flying by night, and\n  apparently migrating from one nest to another. The number of antennal\n  segments varies from eleven to two. It is supposed that these beetles\n  secrete a sweet substance on which the ants feed, but they have been\n  seen to devour the ants' eggs and grubs. The _Gyrinidae_, or whirligig\n  beetles (fig. 9), are a curious aquatic family with the feelers (fig.\n  9, b) short and reduced as in most _Paussidae_. They are flattened\n  oval in form, circling with gliding motion over the surface film of\n  the water, and occasionally diving, when they carry down with them a\n  bubble of air. The fore-legs are elongate and adapted for clasping,\n  while the short and flattened intermediate and hind legs form very\n  perfect oar-like propellers. The larva of _Gyrinus_ (fig. 9, c) is\n  slender with elongate legs, and the abdominal segments carry paired\n  tracheal gills.\n\n  STAPHYLINOIDEA.--The members of this tribe may be easily recognized by\n  their wing-nervuration. Close to a transverse fold near the base of\n  the wing, the median nervure divides into branches which extend to the\n  wing-margin; there is a second transverse fold near the tip of the\n  wing, and cross nervures are altogether wanting. There are four\n  malpighian tubes, and all five tarsal segments are usually\n  recognizable. With very few exceptions, the larva in this group is\n  active and campodeiform, with cerci and elongate legs as in the\n  Adephaga, but the leg has only four segments and one claw.\n\n  [Illustration: FIG. 10.--_Silpha quadripunctata_. Europe.]\n\n  [Illustration: FIG. 11.--_Necrophorus vespillo_ (Sexton Beetle).\n  Europe.]\n\n  The _Silphidae_, or carrion beetles, form one of the best-known\n  families of this group. They are rotund or elongate insects with\n  conical front haunches, the elytra generally covering (fig. 10) the\n  whole dorsal region of the abdomen, but sometimes leaving as many as\n  four terga exposed (fig. 11). Some of these beetles are brightly\n  , while others are dull black. They are usually found in\n  carrion, and the species of _Necrophorus_ (fig. 11) and _Necrophaga_\n  are valuable scavengers from their habit of burying small vertebrate\n  carcases which may serve as food for their larvae. At this work a\n  number of individuals are associated together. The larvae that live\n  underground have spiny dorsal plates, while those of the _Silpha_\n  (fig. 10) and other genera that go openly about in search of food\n  resemble wood-lice. About 1000 species of _Silphidae_ are known.\n  Allied to the _Silphidae_ are a number of small and obscure families,\n  for which reference must be made to monographs of the order. Of\n  special interest among these are the _Histeridae_, compact beetles\n  (fig. 12) with very hard cuticle and somewhat abbreviated elytra, with\n  over 2000 species, most of which live on decaying matter, and the\n  curious little _Pselaphidae_, with three-segmented tarsi, elongate\n  palpi, and shortened abdomen; the latter are usually found in ants'\n  nests, where they are tended by the ants, which take a sweet fluid\n  secreted among little tufts of hair on the beetles' bodies; these\n  beetles, which are carried about by the ants, sometimes devour their\n  larvae. The _Trichopterygidae_, with their delicate narrow fringed\n  wings, are the smallest of all beetles, while the _Platypsyllidae_\n  consist of only a single species of curious form found on the beaver.\n\n  [Illustration: FIG. 12. _Hister iv-maculatus_ (Mimic Beetle). Europe.]\n\n  [Illustration: FIG. 13. _Oxyporus rufus_. Europe.]\n\n  [Illustration: FIG. 14. _Stenus biguttatus_. Europe.]\n\n  The _Staphylinidae_, or rove-beetles--a large family of nearly 10,000\n  species--may be known by their very short elytra, which cover only two\n  of the abdominal segments, leaving the elongate hind-body with seven\n  or eight exposed, firm terga (figs. 13, 14). These segments are very\n  mobile, and as the rove-beetles run along they often curl the abdomen\n  upwards and forwards like the tail of a scorpion. The _Staphylinid_\n  larvae are typically campodeiform. Beetles and larvae are frequently\n  carnivorous in habit, hunting for small insects under stones, or\n  pursuing the soft-skinned grubs of beetles and flies that bore in\n  woody stems or succulent roots. Many _Staphylinidae_ are constant\n  inmates of ants' nests.\n\n  MALACODERMATA.--In this tribe may be included a number of families\n  distinguished by the softness of the cuticle, the presence of seven or\n  eight abdominal sterna and of four malpighian tubes, and the firm,\n  well-armoured larva (fig. 15, c) which is often predaceous in habit.\n  The mesothoracic epimera bound the coxal cavities of the intermediate\n  legs. The _Lymexylonidae_, a small family of this group, characterized\n  by its slender, undifferentiated feelers and feet, is believed by\n  Lameere to comprise the most primitive of all living beetles, and\n  Sharp lays stress on the undeveloped structure of the tribe generally.\n\n  [Illustration: FIG. 15.--Glow-worm. _Lampyris noctiluca_. a, Male; b,\n  female; c, larva (ventral view). Europe.]\n\n  The _Lampyridae_ are a large family, of which the glow-worm\n  (_Lampyris_) and the \"soldier beetles\" (_Telephorus_) are familiar\n  examples. The female \"glow-worm\" (fig. 15, b), emitting the well-known\n  light (see above), is wingless and like a larva; the luminosity seems\n  to be an attraction to the male, whose eyes are often exceptionally\n  well developed. Some male members of the family have remarkably\n  complex feelers. In many genera of _Lampyridae_ the female can fly as\n  well as the male; among these are the South European \"fireflies.\"\n\n  TRICHODERMATA.--Several families of rather soft-skinned beetles, such\n  as the _Melyridae_, _Cleridae_ (fig. 16), _Corynetidae_, _Dermestidae_\n  (fig. 17), and _Dascillidae_, are included in this tribe. They may be\n  distinguished from the Malacodermata by the presence of only five or\n  six abdominal sterna, while six malpighian tubes are present in some\n  of the families. The beetles are hairy and their larvae well-armoured\n  and often predaceous. Several species of _Dermestidae_ are commonly\n  found in houses, feeding on cheeses, dried meat, skins and other such\n  substances. The \"bacon beetle\" (_Dermestes lardarius_), and its hard\n  hairy larva, are well known. According to Sharp, all Dermestid larvae\n  probably feed on dried animal matters; he mentions one species that\n  can find sufficient food in the horsehair of furniture, and another\n  that eats the dried insect-skins hanging in old cobwebs.\n\n  [Illustration: FIG. 16.--_Clerus apiarus_ (Hive Beetle). Europe.]\n\n  [Illustration: FIG. 17.--_Dermestes lardarius_ (Bacon Beetle).]\n\n  STERNOXIA.--This is an important tribe of beetles, including families\n  with four malpighian tubes and only five or six abdominal sterna,\n  while in the thorax there is a backwardly directed process of the\n  prosternum that fits into a mesosternal cavity. The larvae are\n  elongate and worm-like, with short legs but often with hard strong\n  cuticle.\n\n  [Illustration: FIG. 18.--A, Wireworm; B, pupa of Click Beetle; C,\n  adult Click Beetle (_Agriotes lineatum_).]\n\n  The _Elateridae_ or click beetles (fig. 18) have the prosternal\n  process just mentioned, capable of movement in and out of the\n  mesosternal cavity, the beetles being thus enabled to leap into the\n  air, hence their popular name of \"click-beetles\" or \"skip-jacks.\" The\n  prothorax is convex in front, and is usually drawn out behind into a\n  prominent process on either side, while the elytra are elongate and\n  tapering. Many of the tropical American _Elateridae_ emit light from\n  the spots on the prothorax and an area beneath the base of the\n  abdomen; these are \"fireflies\" (see above). The larvae of _Elateridae_\n  are elongate, worm-like grubs, with narrow bodies, very firm cuticle,\n  short legs, and a distinct anal proleg. They are admirably adapted for\n  moving through the soil, where some of them live on decaying organic\n  matter, while others are predaceous. Several of the elaterid larvae,\n  however, gnaw roots and are highly destructive to farm crops. These\n  are the well-known \"wire-worms\" (q.v.).\n\n  [Illustration: FIG. 19.--_Catoxantha bicolor_. Java.]\n\n  The _Buprestidae_ are distinguished from the _Elateridae_ by the\n  immobility of the prosternal process in the mesosternal cavity and by\n  the absence of the lateral processes at the hind corners of the\n  prothorax. Many tropical _Buprestidae_ are of large size (fig. 19),\n  and exhibit magnificent metallic colours; their elytra are used as\n  ornaments in human dress. The larvae are remarkable for their small\n  head, very broad thorax, with reduced legs, and narrow elongate\n  abdomen. They feed by burrowing in the roots and stems of plants.\n\n  BOSTRYCHOIDEA.--This tribe is distinguished from the Malacoderma and\n  allied groups by the mesothoracic epimera not bounding the coxal\n  cavities of the intermediate legs. The downwardly directed head is\n  covered by the pronotum, and the three terminal antennal segments form\n  a distinct club. To this group belong the _Bostrychidae_ and\n  _Ptinidae_, well known (especially the latter family) for their\n  ravages in old timber. The larvae are stout and soft-skinned, with\n  short legs in correlation with their burrowing habit. The noises made\n  by some _Ptinidae_ (_Anobium_) tapping on the walls of their burrows\n  with their mandibles give rise to the \"death tick\" that has for long\n  alarmed the superstitious.\n\n  [Illustration: FIG. 20.--_Hydrophilus piceus_ (Black Water Beetle).\n  Europe.]\n\n  CLAVICORNIA.--This is a somewhat heterogeneous group, most of whose\n  members are characterized by clubbed feelers and simple, unbroadened\n  tarsal segments--usually five on each foot--but in some families and\n  genera the males have less than the normal number on the feet of one\n  pair. There are either four or six malpighian tubes. A large number of\n  families, distinguished from each other by more or less trivial\n  characters, are included here, and there is considerable diversity in\n  the form of the larvae. The best-known family is the _Hydrophilidae_,\n  in which the feelers are short with less than eleven segments and the\n  maxillary palpi very long. Some members of this family--the large\n  black _Hydrophilus piceus_ (fig. 20), for example--are specialized for\n  an aquatic life, the body being convex and smooth as in the\n  _Dyticidae_, and the intermediate and hind-legs fringed for swimming.\n  When _Hydrophilus_ dives it carries a supply of air between the elytra\n  and the dorsal surface of the abdomen, while air is also entangled in\n  the pubescence which extends beneath the abdomen on either side, being\n  scooped in bubbles by the terminal segments of the feelers when the\n  insect rises to the surface. Many of the _Hydrophilidae_ construct,\n  for the protection of their eggs, a cocoon formed of a silky material\n  derived from glands opening at the tip of the abdomen. That of\n  _Hydrophilus_ is attached to a floating leaf, and is provided with a\n  hollow, tapering process, which projects above the surface and\n  presumably conveys air to the enclosed eggs. Other _Hydrophilidae_\n  carry their egg-cocoons about with them beneath the abdomen. Many\n  _Hydrophilidae_, unmodified for aquatic life, inhabit marshes. The\n  larvae in this family are well-armoured, active and predaceous. Of the\n  numerous other families of the Clavicornia may be mentioned the\n  _Cucujidae_ and _Cryptophagidae_, small beetles, examples of which may\n  be found feeding on stored seeds or vegetable refuse, and the\n  _Mycetophagidae_, which devour fungi. The _Nitidulidae_ are a large\n  family with 1600 species, among which members of the genus\n  _Meligethes_ are often found in numbers feeding on blossoms, while\n  others live under the bark of trees and prey on the grubs of boring\n  beetles.\n\n  HETEROMERA.--This tribe is distinguished by the presence of the normal\n  five segments in the feet of the fore and intermediate legs, while\n  only four segments are visible in the hind-foot. Considerable\n  diversity is to be noticed in details of structure within this group,\n  and for an enumeration of all the various families which have been\n  proposed and their distinguishing characters the reader is referred to\n  one of the monographs mentioned below. Some of the best-known members\n  of the group belong to the _Tenebrionidae_, a large family containing\n  over 10,000 species and distributed all over the world. The\n  tenebrionid larva is elongate, with well-chitinized cuticle, short\n  legs and two stumpy tail processes, the common mealworm (fig. 21)\n  being a familiar example. Several species of this family are found\n  habitually in stores of flour or grain. The beetles have feelers with\n  eleven segments, whereof the terminal few are thickened so as to form\n  a club. The true \"black-beetles\" or \"churchyard beetles\" (_Blaps_)\n  (fig. 22) belong to this family; like members of several allied genera\n  they are sooty in colour, and somewhat resemble ground beetles\n  (_Carabi_) in general appearance.\n\n  [Illustration: FIG. 21.--(a) _Tenebrio molitor_ (Flour Beetle).\n  Europe. (b) Larva, or mealworm.]\n\n  [Illustration: FIG. 22.--_Blaps mortisaga_ (Churchyard Beetle).\n  Europe.]\n\n  [Illustration: FIG. 23.--_Meloe proscarabaeus_ (Oil Beetle). Europe.]\n\n  [Illustration: FIG. 24.--_Lytta vesicatoria_ (Blister Beetle).\n  Europe.]\n\n  The most interesting of the Heteromera, and perhaps of all the\n  Coleoptera, are some beetles which pass through two or more larval\n  forms in the course of the life-history (hypermetamorphosis). These\n  belong to the families _Rhipidophoridae_ and _Meloidae_. The latter\n  are the oil beetles (fig. 23) or blister beetles (fig. 24), insects\n  with rather soft cuticle, the elytra (often abbreviated) not fitting\n  closely to the sides of the abdomen, the head constricted behind the\n  eyes to form a neck, and the claws of the feet divided to the base.\n  Several of the _Meloidae_ (such as the \"Spanish fly,\" fig. 24) are of\n  economic importance, as they contain a vesicant substance used for\n  raising medicinal blisters on the human skin. The wonderful\n  transformations of these insects were first investigated by G. Newport\n  in 1851, and have recently been more fully studied by C. V. Riley\n  (1878) and J. H. Fabre. The first larval stage is the \"triungulin,\" a\n  tiny, active, armoured larva with long legs (each foot with three\n  claws) and cercopods. In the European species of _Sitaris_ and _Meloe_\n  these little larvae have the instinct of clinging to any hairy object.\n  All that do not happen to attach themselves to a bee of the genus\n  _Anthophora_ perish, but those that succeed in reaching the right host\n  are carried to the nest, and as the bee lays an egg in the cell the\n  triungulin slips off her body on to the egg, which floats on the\n  surface of the honey. After eating the contents of the egg, the larva\n  moults and becomes a fleshy grub with short legs and with paired\n  spiracles close to the dorsal region, so that, as it floats in and\n  devours the honey, it obtains a supply of air. After a resting\n  (pseudo-pupal) stage and another larval stage, the pupa is developed.\n  In the American EPICAUTA VITTATA the larva is parasitic on the eggs\n  and egg-cases of a locust. The triungulin searches for the eggs, and,\n  after a moult, becomes changed into a soft-skinned tapering larva.\n  This is followed by a resting (pseudo-pupal) stage, and this by two\n  successive larval stages like the grub of a chafer. The\n  RHIPIDOPHORIDAE are beetles with, short elytra, the feelers pectinate\n  in the males and serrate in the females. The life-history of\n  _Metoecus_ has been studied by T. A. Chapman, who finds that the eggs\n  are laid in old wood, and that the triungulin seeks to attach itself\n  to a social wasp, who carries it to her nest. There it feeds first as\n  an internal parasite of the wasp-grub, then bores its way out, moults\n  and devours the wasp larva from outside. The wasps are said to leave\n  the larval or pupal _Metoecus_ unmolested, but they are hostile to the\n  developed beetles, which hasten to leave the nest as soon as possible.\n\n  STREPSIPTERA.--Much difference of opinion has prevailed with regard to\n  the curious, tiny, parasitic insects included in this division, some\n  authorities considering that they should be referred to a distinct\n  order, while others would group them in the family _Meloidae_ just\n  described. While from the nature of their life-history there is no\n  doubt that they have a rather close relationship to the _Meloidae_,\n  their structure is so remarkable that it seems advisable to regard\n  them as at least a distinct tribe of Coleoptera.\n\n  They may be comprised in a single family, the _Stylopidae_. The males\n  are very small, free-flying insects with the prothorax, mesothorax and\n  elytra greatly reduced, the latter appearing as little, twisted\n  strips, while the metathorax is relatively large, with its wings broad\n  and capable of longitudinal folding. The feelers are branched and the\n  jaws vestigial. The female is a segmented, worm-like creature,\n  spending her whole life within the body of the bee, wasp or bug on\n  which she is parasitic. One end of her body protrudes from between two\n  of the abdominal segments of the host; it has been a subject of\n  dispute whether this protruded end is the head or the tail, but there\n  can be little doubt that it is the latter. While thus carried about by\n  the host-insect, the female is fertilized by the free-flying male, and\n  gives birth to a number of tiny triungulin larvae. The chief points in\n  the life-history of _Stylops_ and _Xenos_, which are parasitic on\n  certain bees (_Andrena_) and wasps (_Polistes_), have been\n  investigated by K. T. E. von Siebold (1843) and N. Nassonov (1892).\n  The little triungulins escape on to the body of the bee or wasp; then\n  those that are to survive must leave their host for a non-parasitized\n  insect. Clinging to her hairs they are carried to the nest, where they\n  bore into the body of a bee or wasp larva, and after a moult become\n  soft-skinned legless maggots. The growth of the parasitic larva does\n  not stop the development of the host-larva, and when the latter\n  pupates and assumes the winged form, the stylopid, which has completed\n  its transformation, is carried to the outer world. The presence of a\n  _Stylops_ causes derangement in the body of its host, and can be\n  recognized by various external signs. Other genera of the family are\n  parasitic on Hemiptera--bugs and frog-hoppers--but nothing is known as\n  to the details of their life-history.\n\n  LAMELLICORNIA.--This is a very well-marked tribe of beetles,\n  characterized by the peculiar elongation and flattening of three or\n  more of the terminal antennal segments, so that the feeler seems to\n  end in a number of leaf-like plates, or small comb-teeth (fig. 26, b,\n  c). The wings are well developed for flight, and there is a tendency\n  in the group, especially among the males, towards an excessive\n  development of the mandibles or the presence of enormous, horn-like\n  processes on the head or pronotum. There are four malpighian tubes.\n  The larvae are furnished with large heads, powerful mandibles and\n  well-developed legs, but the body-segments are feebly chitinized, and\n  the tail-end is swollen. They feed in wood or spend an underground\n  life devouring roots or animal excrement.\n\n  The _Lucanidae_ or stag beetles (figs. 1 and 25) have the terminal\n  antennal segments pectinate, and so arranged that the comb-like part\n  of the feeler cannot be curled up, while the elytra completely cover\n  the abdomen. There are about 600 species in the family, the males\n  being usually larger than the females, and remarkable for the size of\n  their mandibles. In the same species, however, great variation occurs\n  in the development of the mandibles, and the breadth of the head\n  varies correspondingly, the smallest type of male being but little\n  different in appearance from the female. The larvae of _Lucanidae_\n  live within the wood of trees, and may take three or four years to\n  attain their full growth. The _Passalidae_ are a tropical family of\n  beetles generally considered to be intermediate between stag-beetles\n  and chafers, the enlarged segments of the feeler being capable of\n  close approximation.\n\n  The _Scarabaeidae_ or chafers are an enormous family of about 15,000\n  species. The plate-like segments of the feeler (fig. 26, b, c) can be\n  brought close together so as to form a club-like termination; usually\n  the hinder abdominal segments are not covered by the elytra. In this\n  family there is often a marked divergence between the sexes; the\n  terminal antennal segments are larger in the male than in the female,\n  and the males may carry large spinous processes on the head or\n  prothorax, or both. These structures were believed by C. Darwin to be\n  explicable by sexual selection. The larvae have the three pairs of\n  legs well developed, and the hinder abdominal segments swollen. Most\n  of the _Scarabaeidae_ are vegetable-feeders, but one section of the\n  family--represented in temperate countries by the dor-beetles\n  (_Geotrupes_) (fig. 28) and _Aphodius_, and in warmer regions by the\n  \"sacred\" beetles of the Egyptians (_Scarabaeus_) (fig. 27), and allied\n  genera--feed both in the adult and larval stages, on dung or decaying\n  animal matter. The heavy grubs of _Geotrupes_, their swollen tail-ends\n  black with the contained food-material, are often dug up in numbers in\n  well-manured fields. The habits of _Scarabaeus_ have been described in\n  detail by J. H. Fabre. The female beetle in spring-time collects dung,\n  which she forms into a ball by continuous rolling, sometimes assisted\n  by a companion. This ball is buried in a suitable place, and serves\n  the insect as a store of food. During summer the insects rest in their\n  underground retreats, then in autumn they reappear to bury another\n  supply of dung, which serves as food for the larvae. Fabre states that\n  the mother-insect carefully arranges the food-supply so that the most\n  nutritious and easily digested portion is nearest the egg, to form the\n  first meal of the young larva. In some species of _Copris_ it is\n  stated that the female lays only two or three eggs at a time, watching\n  the offspring grow to maturity, and then rearing another brood.\n\n  [Illustration: FIG. 25.--_Cladognathus cinnamomeus_. Java.]\n\n  [Illustration: FIG. 26.--_Melolontha fullo_ (Cockchafer). S. Europe,\n  b, Antenna of male; c, antenna of female.]\n\n  [Illustration: FIG. 27.--_Scarabaeus Aegyptiorum_. Africa.]\n\n  [Illustration: FIG. 28.--_Geotrupes Blackburnei_. N. America.]\n\n  [Illustration: FIG. 29.--_Phaneus Imperator_. S. America.]\n\n  [Illustration: FIG. 30.--_Cetonia Baxii_. W. Africa.]\n\n  Among the vegetable-feeding chafers we usually find that while the\n  perfect insect devours leaves, the larva lives underground and feeds\n  on roots. Such are the habits of the cockchafer (_Melolontha\n  vulgaris_) and other species that often cause great injury to farm and\n  garden crops (see CHAFER). Many of these insects, such as the species\n  of _Phanaeus_ (fig. 29) and _Cetonia_ (fig. 30), are adorned with\n  metallic or other brilliant colours. The African \"goliath-beetles\"\n  (fig. 31) and the American \"elephant-beetles\" (_Dynastes_) are the\n  largest of all insects.\n\n  ANCHISTOPODA.--The families of beetles included by Kolbe in this group\n  are distinguished by the possession of six malpighian tubes, and a\n  great reduction in one or two of the tarsal segments, so that there\n  seem to be only four or three segments in each foot; hence the names\n  _Tetramera_ and _Trimera_ formerly applied to them. The larvae have\n  soft-skinned bodies sometimes protected by rows of spiny tubercles,\n  the legs being fairly developed in some families and greatly reduced\n  or absent in others. As might be expected, degeneration in larval\n  structure is correlated with a concealed habit of life.\n\n  The _Coccinellidae_, or ladybirds (fig. 32), are a large family of\n  beetles, well known by their rounded convex bodies, usually shining\n  and hairless. They have eleven segments to the feeler, which is\n  clubbed at the tip, and apparently three segments only in each foot.\n  Ladybirds are often brightly marked with spots and dashes, their\n  coloration being commonly regarded as an advertisement of inedibility.\n  The larvae have a somewhat swollen abdomen, which is protected by\n  bristle-bearing tubercles. Like the perfect insects, they are\n  predaceous, feeding on plant-lice (_Aphidae_) and scale insects\n  (_Coccidae_). Their role in nature is therefore beneficial to the\n  cultivator. The _Endomychidae_ (fig. 33), an allied family, are mostly\n  fungus-eaters. In the _Erotylidae_ and a few other small related\n  families the feet are evidently four-segmented.\n\n  [Illustration: FIG. 31.--_Goliathus giganteus_ (Goliath Beetle).]\n\n  [Illustration: FIG. 32.--_Anatio ocellata_ (Eyed Ladybird). Europe.]\n\n  [Illustration: FIG. 33.--_Endomychus coccineus_. Europe.]\n\n  [Illustration: FIG. 34.--_Sagra cyanea_. W. Africa.]\n\n  [Illustration: FIG. 35.--_Eumorphus ivguttatus_. Sumatra.]\n\n  [Illustration: FIG. 36.--_Lophonocerus barbicornis_. S. America.]\n\n  The _Chrysomelidae_, or leaf-beetles (figs. 34, 35), are a very large\n  family, with \"tetramerous\" tarsi; there seem to be only four segments\n  to the foot, but there are really five, the fourth being greatly\n  reduced. The mandibles are strong, adapted for biting the vegetable\n  substances on which these beetles feed, and the palps of the second\n  maxillae have three segments. Most of the _Chrysomelidae_ are metallic\n  in colour and convex in form; in some the head is concealed beneath\n  the prothorax, and the so-called \"tortoise\" beetles (_Cassidinae_)\n  have the elytra raised into a prominent median ridge. The most active\n  form of larva found in this family resembles in shape that of a\n  ladybird, tapering towards the tail end, and having the trunk segments\n  protected by small firm sclerites. Such larvae, and also many with\n  soft cuticle and swollen abdomen--those of the notorious \"Colorado\n  beetle,\" for example--feed openly on foliage. Others, with soft,\n  white, cylindrical bodies, which recall the caterpillars of moths,\n  burrow in the leaves or stems of plants. The larvae of the\n  tortoise-beetles have the curious habit of forming an umbrella-like\n  shield out of their own excrement, held in position by the upturned\n  tail-process. The larvae of the beautiful, elongate, metallic\n  _Donaciae_ live in the roots and stems of aquatic plants, obtaining\n  thence both food and air. The larva pierces the vessels of the plant\n  with sharp processes at the hinder end of its body. In this way it is\n  believed that the sub-aqueous cocoon in which the pupal stage is\n  passed becomes filled with air.\n\n  The _Cerambycidae_, or longhorn beetles, are recognizable by their\n  slender, elongate feelers, which are never clubbed and rarely serrate.\n  The foot has apparently four segments, as in the _Chrysomelidae_. The\n  beetles are usually elongate and elegant in form, often adorned with\n  bright bands of colour, and some of the tropical species attain a very\n  large size (figs. 36, 37). The feelers are usually longer in the male\n  than in the female, exceeding in some cases by many times the length\n  of the body. The larvae have soft, fleshy bodies, with the head and\n  prothorax large and broad, and the legs very much reduced. They live\n  and feed in the wood of trees. Consequently, beetles of this family\n  are most abundant in forest regions, and reach their highest\n  development in the dense virgin forests of tropical countries, South\n  America being particularly rich in peculiar genera.\n\n  [Illustration: FIG. 37.--_Phryneta aurocincta_. West Africa.]\n\n  The _Bruchidae_, or seed-beetles, agree with the two preceding\n  families in tarsal structure; the head is largely hidden by the\n  pronotum, and the elytra are short enough to leave the end of the\n  abdomen exposed (fig. 38). The development of the pea and bean-beetles\n  has been carefully studied by C. V. Riley, who finds that the young\n  larva, hatched from the egg laid on the pod, has three pairs of legs,\n  and that these are lost after the moult that occurs when the grub has\n  bored its way into the seed. In Great Britain the beetle, after\n  completing its development, winters in the seed, waiting to emerge and\n  lay its eggs on the blossom in the ensuing spring.\n\n  [Illustration: FIG. 38.--_Bruchus piei_ (Pea Beetle.) Europe.]\n\n  [Illustration: FIG. 39.--_Platyrrhinus latirostris_. Europe.]\n\n  RHYNCHOPHORA.--The _Rhynchophora_ are a group of beetles easily\n  recognized by the elongation of the head into a beak or snout, which\n  carries the feelers at its sides and the jaws at its tip. The third\n  tarsal segment is broad and bi-lobed, and the fourth is so small that\n  the feet seem to be only four-segmented. There are six malpighian\n  tubes. The ventral sclerite of the head-skeleton (gula), well\n  developed in most families of beetles, is absent among the\n  _Rhynchophora_, while the palps of the maxillae are much reduced. The\n  larvae have soft, white bodies and, with very few exceptions, no legs.\n\n  [Illustration: FIG. 40.--_Brenthus anchorago_. Tropical Countries.]\n\n  [Illustration: FIG. 41.--_Otiorrhynchus ligustici_. Europe.]\n\n  [Illustration: FIG. 42.--_Lixus paraplecticus_. Europe.]\n\n  Of the four families included in this group, the _Anthribidae_ (fig.\n  39) have jointed, flexible palps, feelers--often of excessive\n  length--with a short basal segment, and the three terminal segments\n  forming a club, and, in some genera, larvae with legs. There are\n  nearly 1000 known species, most of which live in tropical countries.\n  The _Brenthidae_ are a remarkable family almost confined to the\n  tropics; they are elongate and narrow in form (fig. 40), with a\n  straight, cylindrical snout which in some male beetles of the family\n  is longer than the rest of the body.\n\n  [Illustration: FIG. 43.--_Scolytus ulmi_. (Bark Beetle). Europe.]\n\n  The _Curculionidae_, or weevils (q.v.), comprising 23,000 species, are\n  by far the largest family of the group. The maxillary palps are short\n  and rigid, and there is no distinct labrum, while the feelers are\n  usually of an \"elbowed\" form, the basal segment being very elongate\n  (figs. 41, 42). They are vegetable feeders, both in the perfect and\n  larval stages, and are often highly injurious. The female uses her\n  snout as a boring instrument to prepare a suitable place for\n  egg-laying. The larvae (fig. 3) of some weevils live in seeds; others\n  devour roots, while the parent-beetles eat leaves; others, again, are\n  found in wood or under bark. The _Scolytidae_, or bark-beetles, are a\n  family of some 1500 species, closely allied to the _Curculionidae_,\n  differing only in the feeble development of the snout. They have\n  clubbed feelers, and their cylindrical bodies (fig. 43) are well\n  adapted for their burrowing habits under the bark of trees. Usually\n  the mother-beetle makes a fairly straight tunnel along which, at short\n  intervals, she lays her eggs. The grubs, when hatched, start galleries\n  nearly at right angles to this, and when fully grown form oval cells\n  in which they pupate; from these the young beetles emerge by making\n  circular holes directly outward through the bark.\n\n  BIBLIOGRAPHY.--In addition to what may be found in numerous important\n  works on the Hexapoda (q.v.) as a whole, such as J. O. Westwood's\n  _Modern Classification of Insects_, vol. i. (London, 1838); J. H.\n  Fabre's _Souvenirs Entomologiques_ (Paris, 1879-1891); D. Sharp's\n  contribution to the Cambridge Natural History (vol. vi., London,\n  1899); and L. C. Miall's _Aquatic Insects_ (London, 1895), the special\n  literature of the _Coleoptera_ is enormous. Classical anatomical\n  memoirs are those of L. Dufour (_Ann. Sci. Nat._ ii., iii., iv., vi.,\n  viii., xiv., 1824-1828); _Ib._ (ser. 2, Zool.) i., 1834; and H. E.\n  Strauss-Durkheim, _Anatomie comparee des animaux articulees_ (Paris,\n  1828).\n\n  The wings of _Coleoptera_ (including the elytra) are described and\n  discussed by F. Meinert (_Entom. Tijdsk._ v., 1880); C. Hoffbauer\n  (_Zeit. f. wissen. Zool._ liv., 1892); J. H. Comstock and J. G.\n  Needham (_Amer. Nat._ xxxii., 1898); and W. L. Tower (_Zool. Jahrb.\n  Anat._ xvii., 1903). The morphology of the abdomen, ovipositor and\n  genital armature is dealt with by K. W. Verhoeff (_Ent. Nachtr._ xx.,\n  1894, and _Arch. f. Naturg._ lxi., lxii., 1895-1896); and B.\n  Wandolleck (_Zool. Jahrb. Anat._ xxii., 1905).\n\n  Luminous organs are described by H. von Wielowiejski (_Zeits. f.\n  wissen. Zool._ xxxvii., 1882); C. Heinemann (_Arch. f. mikr. Anat._\n  xxvii., 1886); and R. Dubois (_Bull. soc. zool. France_, 1886); and\n  stridulating organs by C. J. Gahan (_Trans. Entom. Soc._, 1900). See\n  also C. Darwin's _Descent of Man and Selection in Relation to Sex_\n  (London, 1871).\n\n  Many larvae of _Coleoptera_ are described and beautifully figured by\n  J. C. Schiodte (_Naturh. Tidsskr._ i.-xiii., 1861-1872).\n  Hypermetamorphosis in the _Meloidae_ is described by G. Newport\n  (_Trans. Linn. Soc._ xx., xxi., 1851-1853); C. V. Riley (_Rep. U.S.\n  Entom. Comm._ i., 1878); J. H. Fabre (_Ann. Sci. Nat._ (4), ix., xix.,\n  1848-1853); H. Beauregard (_Les Insectes vesicants_, Paris, 1890); and\n  A. Chabaud (_Ann. Soc. Ent. France_, lx., 1891); in the _Bruchidae_ by\n  Riley (_Insect Life_, iv., v., 1892-1893); and in the _Strepsiptera_\n  (_Stylopidae_) by K. T. E. von Siebold (_Arch. f. Naturg._ ix., 1843);\n  N. Nassonov (_Bull. Univ. Narsovie_, 1892); and C. T. Brues (_Zool.\n  Jahrb. Anat._ xiii., 1903).\n\n  For various schemes of classification of the _Coleoptera_ see E. L.\n  Geoffroy (_Insectes qui se trouvent aux environs de Paris_, Paris,\n  1762); A. G. Olivier (_Coleopteres_, Paris, 1789-1808); W. S. MacLeay\n  (_Annulosa Javanica_, London, 1825); the general works of Westwood and\n  Sharp, mentioned above; M. Gemminger and B. de Harold (_Catalogus\n  Coleopterorum_, 12 vols., Munich, 1868-1872); T. Lacordaire and F.\n  Chapuis (_Genera des Coleopteres_, 10 vols., Paris, 1854-1874); J. L.\n  Leconte and G. H. Horn (_Classification of Coleoptera of N. America_,\n  Washington, Smithsonian Inst., 1883); L. Ganglbauer (_Die Kafer von\n  Mitteleuropa_, Vienna, 1892, &c.); A. Lameere (_Ann. Soc. Ent. Belg._\n  xliv., xlvii., 1900-1903); and H. J. Kolbe (_Arch. f. Naturg._ lxvii.,\n  1901).\n\n  For the British species, W. W. Fowler (_Coleoptera of the British\n  Islands_, 5 vols., London, 1887-1891) is the standard work; and W. F.\n  Johnson and J. N. Halbert's \"Beetles of Ireland\" (_Proc. R. Irish\n  Acad._, 3, vi., 1902) is valuable faunistically. Among the large\n  number of systematic writers on the order generally, or on special\n  families, may be mentioned D. Sharp, T. V. Wollaston, H. W. Bates, G.\n  C. Champion, E. Reitter, G. C. Crotch, H. S. Gorham, M. Jacoby, L.\n  Fairmaire and C. O. Waterhouse. (G. H. C.)\n\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n  [1] Instar is a convenient term suggested by D. Sharp to indicate a\n    stage in the life-history of an insect between two successive\n    castings of the cuticle.\n\n\n\n\nCOLEPEPER, JOHN COLEPEPER (or CULPEPPER), 1ST BARON (d. 1660), English\npolitician, was the only son of Sir John Colepeper of Wigsell, Sussex.\nHe began his career in military service abroad, and came first into\npublic notice at home through his knowledge of country affairs, being\nsummoned often before the council board to give evidence on such\nmatters. He was knighted, and was elected member for Kent in the Long\nParliament, when he took the popular side, speaking against monopolies\non the 9th of November 1640, being entrusted with the impeachment of Sir\nRobert Berkeley on the 12th of February 1641, supporting Stafford's\nattainder, and being appointed to the committee of defence on the 12th\nof August 1641. He separated, however, from the popular party on the\nChurch question, owing to political rather than religious objections,\nfearing the effect of the revolutionary changes which were now\ncontemplated. He opposed the London petition for the abolition of\nepiscopacy, the project of religious union with the Scots, and the Root\nand Branch Bill, and on the 1st of September he moved a resolution in\ndefence of the prayer-book. In the following session he opposed the\nmilitia bill and the Grand Remonstrance, and finally on the 2nd of\nJanuary 1642 he joined the king's party, taking office as chancellor of\nthe exchequer. He highly disapproved of the attempt upon the five\nmembers, which was made without his knowledge, but advised the\nenterprise against Hull. On the 25th of August 1642 he appeared at the\nbar of the House of Commons to deliver the king's final proposals for\npeace, and was afterwards present at Edgehill, where he took part in\nPrince Rupert's charge and opposed the retreat of the king's forces from\nthe battlefield. In December he was made by Charles master of the rolls.\nHe was a leading member of the Oxford Parliament, and was said, in\nopposition to the general opinion, to have counselled considerable\nconcessions to secure peace. His influence in military affairs caused\nhim to be much disliked by Prince Rupert and the army, and the general\nanimosity against him was increased by his advancement to the peerage on\nthe 21st of October 1644 by the title of Baron Colepeper of Thoresway in\nLincolnshire.\n\nHe was despatched with Hyde in charge of the prince of Wales to the West\nin March 1645, and on the 2nd of March 1646, after Charles's final\ndefeat, embarked with the prince for Scilly, and thence to France. He\nstrongly advocated the gaining over of the Scots by religious\nconcessions, a policy supported by the queen and Mazarin, but opposed by\nHyde and other leading royalists, and constantly urged this course upon\nthe king, at the same time deprecating any yielding on the subject of\nthe militia. He promoted the mission of Sir John Berkeley in 1647 to\nsecure an understanding between Charles and the army. In 1648 he\naccompanied the prince in his unsuccessful naval expedition, and\nreturned with him to the Hague, where violent altercations broke out\namong the royalist leaders, Colepeper going so far, on one occasion in\nthe council, as to challenge Prince Rupert, and being himself severely\nassaulted in the streets by Sir Robert Walsh. He continued after the\nexecution of the king to press the acceptance on Charles II. of the\nScottish proposals. He was sent to Russia in 1650, where he obtained a\nloan of 20,000 roubles from the tsar, and, soon after his return, to\nHolland, to procure military assistance. By the treaty, agreed to\nbetween Cromwell and Mazarin, of August 1654, Colepeper was obliged to\nleave France, and he appears henceforth to have resided in Flanders. He\naccompanied Charles II. to the south of France in September 1659, at the\ntime of the treaty of the Pyrenees. At the Restoration he returned to\nEngland, but only survived a few weeks, dying on the 11th of June 1660.\n\nSeveral contemporary writers agree in testifying to Colepeper's great\ndebating powers and to his resources as an adviser, but complain of his\nwant of stability and of his uncertain temper. Clarendon, with whom he\nwas often on ill terms, speaks generally in his praise, and repels the\ncharge of corruption levelled against him. That he was gifted with\nconsiderable political foresight is shown by a remarkable letter written\non the 20th of September 1658 on the death of Cromwell, in which he\nforetells with uncommon sagacity the future developments in the\npolitical situation, advises the royalists to remain inactive till the\nright moment and profit by the division of their opponents, and\ndistinguishes Monck as the one person willing and capable of effecting\nthe Restoration (_Clarendon State Papers_, iii. 412). Colepeper was\ntwice married, (1) to Philippa, daughter of Sir John Snelling, by whom\nhe had one son, who died young, and a daughter, and (2) to Judith,\ndaughter of Sir J. Colepeper of Hollingbourn, Kent, by whom he had seven\nchildren. Of these Thomas (d. 1719; governor of Virginia 1680-1683) was\nthe successor in the title, which became extinct on the death of his\nyounger brother Cheney in 1725.     (P. C. Y.)\n\n\n\n\nCOLERAINE, a seaport and market town of Co. Londonderry, Ireland, in the\nnorth parliamentary division, on the Bann, 4 m. from its mouth, and\n61-1\/2 m. N.W. by N. from Dublin by the Northern Counties (Midland)\nrailway. Pop. of urban district (1901) 6958. The town stands upon both\nsides of the river, which is crossed by a handsome stone bridge,\nconnecting the town and its suburb, Waterside or Killowen. The principal\npart is on the east bank, and consists of a central square called the\nDiamond, and several diverging streets. Among institutions may be\nmentioned the public schools founded in 1613 and maintained by the\nHonourable Irish Society, and the Academical Institution, maintained by\nthe Irish Society and the London Clothworkers' Company. The linen trade\nhas long been extensively carried on in the town, from which, indeed, a\nfine description of cloth is known as \"Coleraines.\" Whisky-distilling,\npork-curing, and the salmon and eel fisheries are prosecuted. The mouth\nof the river was formerly obstructed by a bar, but piers were\nconstructed, and the harbours greatly improved by grants from the Irish\nSociety of London and from a loan under the River Bann Navigation Act\n1879. Coleraine ceased to return one member to the Imperial parliament\nin 1885; having previously returned two to the Irish parliament until\nthe Union. It was incorporated by James I. It owed its importance mainly\nto the Irish Society, which was incorporated as the Company for the New\nPlantation of Ulster in 1613. Though fortified only by an earthen wall,\nit managed to hold out against the rebels in 1641. There are no remains\nof a former priory, monastery and castle. A rath or encampment of large\nsize occupies Mount Sandel, 1 m. south-east.\n\n\n\n\nCOLERIDGE, HARTLEY (1796-1849), English man of letters, eldest son of\nthe poet Samuel Taylor Coleridge, was born on the 19th of September\n1796, near Bristol. His early years were passed under Southey's care at\nGreta Hall, Keswick, and he was educated by the Rev. John Dawes at\nAmbleside. In 1815 he went to Oxford, as scholar of Merton College. His\nuniversity career, however, was very unfortunate. He had inherited the\nweakness of purpose, as well as the splendid conversational powers, of\nhis father, and lapsed into habits of intemperance. He was successful in\ngaining an Oriel fellowship, but at the close of the probationary year\n(1820) was judged to have forfeited it. The authorities could not be\nprevailed upon to reverse their decision; but they awarded to him a free\ngift of L300. Hartley Coleridge then spent two years in London, where he\nwrote short poems for the _London Magazine_. His next step was to become\na partner in a school at Ambleside, but this scheme failed. In 1830 a\nLeeds publisher, Mr. F. E. Bingley, made a contract with him to write\nbiographies of Yorkshire and Lancashire worthies. These were afterwards\nrepublished under the title of _Biographia Borealis_ (1833) and\n_Worthies of Yorkshire and Lancashire_ (1836). Bingley also printed a\nvolume of his poems in 1833, and Coleridge lived in his house until the\ncontract came to an end through the bankruptcy of the publisher. From\nthis time, except for two short periods in 1837 and 1838 when he acted\nas master at Sedbergh grammar school, he lived quietly at Grasmere and\n(1840-1849) Rydal, spending his time in study and wanderings about the\ncountryside. His figure was as familiar as Wordsworth's, and his\ngentleness and simplicity of manner won for him the friendship of the\ncountry-people. In 1839 appeared his edition of Massinger and Ford, with\nbiographies of both dramatists. The closing decade of Coleridge's life\nwas wasted in what he himself calls \"the woeful impotence of weak\nresolve.\" He died on the 6th of January 1849. The prose style of Hartley\nColeridge is marked by much finish and vivacity; but his literary\nreputation must chiefly rest on the sanity of his criticisms, and above\nall on his _Prometheus_, an unfinished lyric drama, and on his sonnets.\nAs a sonneteer he achieved real excellence, the form being exactly\nsuited to his sensitive genius. _Essays and Marginalia_, and _Poems_,\nwith a memoir by his brother Derwent, appeared in 1851.\n\n\nCOLERIDGE, JOHN DUKE COLERIDGE, 1ST BARON (1820-1894), lord chief\njustice of England, was the eldest son of Sir John Taylor Coleridge. He\nwas born at Heath's Court, Ottery St Mary, on the 3rd of December 1820.\nHe was educated at Eton and Balliol College, Oxford, of which he was a\nscholar. He was called to the bar in 1846, and went the western circuit,\nrising steadily, through more than twenty years of hard work, till in\n1865 he was returned as member for Exeter in the Liberal interest. The\nimpression which he made on the heads of his party was so favourable\nthat they determined, early in the session of 1867, to put him forward\nas the protagonist of their attack on the Conservative government. But\nthat move seemed to many of their staunchest adherents unwise, and it\nwas frustrated by the active opposition of a section, including Hastings\nRussell (later ninth duke of Bedford), his brother Arthur, member for\nTavistock, Alexander Mitchell of Stow, A. W. Kinglake and Henry Seymour.\nThey met to deliberate in the tea-room of the House, and were afterwards\nsometimes confounded with the tea-room party which was of subsequent\nformation and under the guidance of a different group. The protest was\nsufficient to prevent the contemplated attack being made, but the\nLiberals returned to power in good time with a large majority behind\nthem in 1868. Coleridge was made, first solicitor-, and then\nattorney-general.\n\nAs early as 1863 a small body of Oxford men in parliament had opened\nfire against the legislation which kept their university bound by\necclesiastical swaddling clothes. They had made a good deal of progress\nin converting the House of Commons to their views before the general\nelection of 1865. That election having brought Coleridge into\nparliament, he was hailed as a most valuable ally, whose great\nuniversity distinction, brilliant success as an orator at the bar, and\nhereditary connexion with the High Church party, entitled him to take\nthe lead in a movement which, although gathering strength, was yet very\nfar from having achieved complete success. The clerically-minded section\nof the Conservative party could not but listen to the son of Sir John\nColeridge, the godson of Keble, and the grand-nephew of the man who had\nbeen an indirect cause of the Anglican revival of 1833,--for John Stuart\nMill was right when he said that the poet Coleridge and the philosopher\nBentham were, so far as England was concerned, the leaders of the two\nchief movements of their times: \"it was they who taught the teachers,\nand who were the two great seminal minds.\"\n\nWalking up one evening from the House of Commons to dine at the\nAthenaeum with Henry Bruce (afterwards Lord Aberdare) and another\nfriend, Coleridge said: \"There is a trial coming on which will be one of\nthe most remarkable _causes celebres_ that has ever been heard of.\" This\nwas the Tichborne case, which led to proceedings in the criminal courts\nrising almost to the dignity of a political event. The Tichborne trial\nwas the most conspicuous feature of Coleridge's later years at the bar,\nand tasked his powers as an advocate to the uttermost, though he was\nassisted by the splendid abilities and industry of Charles (afterwards\nLord) Bowen. In November 1873 Coleridge succeeded Sir W. Bovill as chief\njustice of the common pleas, and was immediately afterwards raised to\nthe peerage as Baron Coleridge of Ottery St Mary. In 1880 he was made\nlord chief justice of England on the death of Sir Alexander Cockburn.\n\nIn jury cases his quickness in apprehending facts and his lucidity in\narranging them were very remarkable indeed. He was not one of the most\nlearned of lawyers, but he was a great deal more learned than many\npeople believed him to be, and as an ecclesiastical lawyer had perhaps\nfew or no superiors. His fault--a natural fault in one who had been so\nsuccessful as an advocate--was that of being too apt to take one side.\nHe allowed, also, certain political or personal prepossessions to colour\nthe tone of his remarks from the bench. A game-preserving landlord had\nnot to thank the gods when his case, however buttressed by generally\naccepted claims, came before Coleridge. Towards the end of his life his\nhealth failed, and he became somewhat indolent. On the whole, he was not\nso strong a man in his judicial capacity as Campbell or Cockburn; but it\nmust be admitted that his scholarship, his refinement, his power of\noratory, and his character raised the tone of the bench while he sat\nupon it, and that if it has been adorned by greater judicial abilities,\nit has hardly ever known a greater combination of varied merits. It is\ncurious to observe that of all judges the man whom he put highest was\none very unlike himself, the great master of the rolls, Sir William\nGrant. Coleridge died in harness on the 14th of June 1894.\n\nColeridge's work, first as a barrister, and then as a judge, prevented\nhis publishing as much as he otherwise would have done, but his\naddresses and papers would, if collected, fill a substantial volume and\ndo much honour to his memory. One of the best, and one most eminently\ncharacteristic of the man, was his inaugural address to the\nPhilosophical Institution at Edinburgh in 1870; another was a paper on\nWordsworth (1873). He was an exceptionally good letter-writer. Of travel\nhe had very little experience. He had hardly been to Paris; once, quite\nnear the end of his career, he spent a few days in Holland, and came\nback a willing slave to the genius of Rembrandt; but his longest absence\nfrom England was a visit, which had something of a representative legal\ncharacter, to the United States. It is strange that a man so steeped in\nGreek and Roman poetry, so deeply interested in the past, present and\nfuture of Christianity, never saw Rome, or Athens, or the Holy Land. A\nsubsidiary cause, no doubt, was the fatal custom of neglecting modern\nlanguages at English schools. He felt himself at a disadvantage when he\npassed beyond English-speaking lands, and cordially disliked the\nsituation. No notice of Coleridge should omit to make mention of his\nextraordinary store of anecdotes, which were nearly always connected\nwith Eton, Oxford, the bar or the bench. His exquisite voice,\nconsiderable power of mimicry, and perfect method of narration added\ngreatly to the charm. He once told, at the table of Dr Jowett, master of\nBalliol, anecdotes through the whole of dinner on Saturday evening,\nthrough the whole of breakfast, lunch and dinner the next day, through\nthe whole journey on Monday morning from Oxford to Paddington, without\never once repeating himself. He was frequently to be seen at the\nAthenaeum, was a member both of Grillion's and The Club, as well as of\nthe Literary Society, of which he was president, and whose meetings he\nvery rarely missed. Bishop Copleston is said to have divided the human\nrace into three classes,--men, women and Coleridges. If he did so, he\nmeant, no doubt, to imply that the family of whom the poet of\n_Christabel_ was the chief example regarded themselves as a class to\nthemselves, the objects of a special dispensation. John Duke Coleridge\nwas sarcastic and critical, and at times over-sensitive. But his\nstrongest characteristics were love of liberty and justice. By birth and\nconnexions a Conservative, he was a Liberal by conviction, and loyal to\nhis party and its great leader, Mr Gladstone.\n\nColeridge had three sons and a daughter by his first wife, Jane\nFortescue, daughter of the Rev. George Seymour of Freshwater. She was an\nartist of real genius, and her portrait of Cardinal Newman was\nconsidered much better than the one by Millais. She died in February\n1878; a short notice of her by Dean Church of St Paul's was published in\nthe _Guardian_, and was reprinted in her husband's privately printed\ncollection of poems. Coleridge remained for some years a widower, but\nmarried in 1885 Amy Augusta Jackson Lawford, who survived him. He was\nsucceeded in the peerage by his eldest son, Bernard John Seymour (b.\n1851), who went to the bar and became a K.C. in 1892. In 1907 he was\nappointed a judge of the Supreme Court. The two other sons were Stephen\n(b. 1854), a barrister, secretary to the Anti-Vivisection Society, and\nGilbert James Duke (b. 1859).\n\n  His _Life and Correspondence_, edited by E. H. Coleridge, was\n  published in 1904; see further E. Manson, _Builders of our Law_\n  (1904); and for the history of the Coleridge family see Lord\n  Coleridge, _The Story of a Devonshire House_ (1907).     (M. G. D.)\n\n\n\n\nCOLERIDGE, SIR JOHN TAYLOR (1790-1876), English judge, the second son of\nCaptain James Coleridge and nephew of the poet S. T. Coleridge, was born\nat Tiverton, Devon, and was educated at Corpus Christi College, Oxford,\nwhere he had a brilliant career. He graduated in 1812 and was soon after\nmade a fellow of Exeter; in 1819 he was called to the bar at the Middle\nTemple and practised for some years on the western circuit. In 1824, on\nGifford's retirement, he assumed the editorship of the _Quarterly\nReview_, resigning it a year afterwards in favour of Lockhart. In 1825\nhe published his excellent edition of _Blackstone's Commentaries_, and\nin 1832 he was made a serjeant-at-law and recorder of Exeter. In 1835 he\nwas appointed one of the judges of the king's bench. In 1852 his\nuniversity created him a D.C.L., and in 1858 he resigned his judgeship,\nand was made a member of the privy council. In 1869, although in extreme\nold age, he produced his pleasant _Memoir of the Rev. John Keble_, whose\nfriend he had been since their college days, a third edition of which\nwas issued within a year. He died on the 11th of February 1876 at Ottery\nSt Mary, Devon, leaving two sons and a daughter; the eldest son, John\nDuke, 1st Baron Coleridge (q.v.), became lord chief justice of England;\nthe second son, Henry James (1822-1893), left the Anglican for the Roman\nCatholic church in 1852, and became well-known as a Jesuit divine,\neditor of _The Month_, and author of numerous theological works. Sir\nJohn Taylor Coleridge's brothers, James Duke and Henry Nelson (husband\nof Sara Coleridge), are referred to in other articles; his brother\nFrancis George was the father of Arthur Duke Coleridge (b. 1830), clerk\nof assizes on the midland circuit and author of _Eton in the Forties_,\nwhose daughter Mary E. Coleridge (1861-1907) became a well-known writer\nof fiction.\n\n\n\n\nCOLERIDGE, SAMUEL TAYLOR (1772-1834), English poet and philosopher, was\nborn on the 21st of October 1772, at his father's vicarage of Ottery St\nMary's, Devonshire. His father, the Rev. John Coleridge (1719-1781), was\na man of some mark. He was known for his great scholarship, simplicity\nof character, and affectionate interest in the pupils of the grammar\nschool, of which he was appointed master a few months before becoming\nvicar of the parish (1760), reigning in both capacities till his death.\nHe had married twice. The poet was the youngest child of his second\nwife, Anne Bowdon (d. 1809), a woman of great good sense, and anxiously\nambitious for the success of her sons. On the death of his father, a\npresentation to Christ's Hospital was procured for Coleridge by the\njudge, Sir Francis Buller, an old pupil of his father's. He had already\nbegun to give evidence of a powerful imagination, and he has described\nin a letter to his valued friend, Tom Poole, the pernicious effect which\nthe admiration of an uncle and his circle of friends had upon him at\nthis period. For eight years he continued at Christ's Hospital. Of these\nschool-days Charles Lamb has given delightful glimpses in the _Essays of\nElia_. The headmaster, Bowyer (as he was called, though his name was\nBoyer), was a severe disciplinarian, but respected by his pupils.\nMiddleton, afterwards known as a Greek scholar, and bishop of Calcutta,\nreported Coleridge to Bowyer as a boy who read Virgil for amusement, and\nfrom that time Bowyer began to notice him and encouraged his reading.\nSome compositions in English poetry, written at sixteen, and not without\na touch of genius, give evidence of the influence which Bowles, whose\npoems were then in vogue, had over his mind at this time. Before he left\nschool his constitutional delicacy of frame, increased by swimming the\nNew River in his clothes, began to give him serious discomfort.\n\nIn February 1791 he was entered at Jesus College, Cambridge. A\nschool-fellow who followed him to the university has described in\nglowing terms evenings in his rooms, \"when Aeschylus, and Plato, and\nThucydides were pushed aside, with a pile of lexicons and the like, to\ndiscuss the pamphlets of the day. Ever and anon a pamphlet issued from\nthe pen of Burke. There was no need of having the book before\nus;--Coleridge had read it in the morning, and in the evening he would\nrepeat whole pages verbatim.\" William Frend, a fellow of Jesus, accused\nof sedition and Unitarianism, was at this time tried and expelled from\nCambridge. Coleridge had imbibed his sentiments, and joined the ranks of\nhis partisans. He grew discontented with university life, and in 1793,\npressed by debt, went to London. Perhaps he was also influenced by his\npassion for Mary Evans, the sister of one of his school-fellows. A poem\nin the _Morning Chronicle_ brought him a guinea, and when that was spent\nhe enlisted in the 15th Dragoons under the name of Silas Tomkyn\nComberbache. One of the officers of the dragoon regiment, finding a\nLatin sentence inscribed on a wall, discovered the condition of the very\nawkward recruit. Shortly afterwards an old school-fellow (G. L. Tuckett)\nheard of his whereabouts, and by the intervention of his brother,\nCaptain James Coleridge, his discharge was procured. He returned for a\nshort time to Cambridge, but quitted the university without a degree in\n1794. In the same year he visited Oxford, and after a short tour in\nWales went to Bristol, where he met Southey. The French Revolution had\nstirred the mind of Southey to its depths. Coleridge received with\nrapture his new friend's scheme of Pantisocracy. On the banks of the\nSusquehanna was to be founded a brotherly community, where selfishness\nwas to be extinguished, and the virtues were to reign supreme. No funds\nwere forthcoming, and in 1795, to the chagrin of Coleridge, the scheme\nwas dropped. In 1794 _The Fall of Robespierre_, of which Coleridge wrote\nthe first act and Southey the other two, appeared. At Bristol Coleridge\nformed the acquaintance of Joseph Cottle, the bookseller, who offered\nhim thirty guineas for a volume of poems. In October of 1795 Coleridge\nmarried Sarah Fricker, and took up his residence at Clevedon on the\nBristol Channel. A few weeks afterwards Southey married a sister of Mrs\nColeridge, and on the same day quitted England for Portugal.\n\nColeridge began to lecture in Bristol on politics and religion. He\nembodied the first two lectures in his first prose publication,\n_Conciones ad Populum_ (1795). The book contained much invective against\nPitt, and in after life Coleridge declared that, with this exception, and\na few pages involving philosophical tenets which he afterwards rejected,\nthere was little or nothing he desired to retract. The first volume of\n_Poems_ was published by Cottle early in 1796. Coleridge projected a\nperiodical called _The Watchman_, and in 1796 undertook a journey, well\ndescribed in the _Biographic Literaria_, to enlist subscribers. _The\nWatchman_ had a brief life of two months, but at this time Coleridge\nbegan to think of becoming a Unitarian preacher, and abandoning\nliterature for ever. Hazlitt has recorded his very favourable impression\nof a remarkable sermon delivered at Shrewsbury; but there are other\naccounts of Coleridge's preaching not so enthusiastic. In the summer of\n1795 he met for the first time the brother poet with whose name his own\nwill be for ever associated. Wordsworth and his sister had established\nthemselves at Racedown in the Dorsetshire hills, and here Coleridge\nvisited them in 1797. There are few things in literary history more\nremarkable than this friendship. The gifted Dorothy Wordsworth described\nColeridge as \"thin and pale, the lower part of the face not good, wide\nmouth, thick lips, not very good teeth, longish, loose, half-curling,\nrough, black hair,\"--but all was forgotten in the magic charm of his\nutterance. Wordsworth, who declared, \"The only wonderful man I ever knew\nwas Coleridge,\" seems at once to have desired to see more of his new\nfriend. He and his sister removed in July 1797 to Alfoxden, near Nether\nStowey, to be in Coleridge's neighbourhood, and in the most delightful\nand unrestrained intercourse the friends spent many happy days. It was\nthe delight of each one to communicate to the other the productions of\nhis mind, and the creative faculty of both poets was now at its best. One\nevening, at Watchett on the British Channel, _The Ancient Mariner_ first\ntook shape. Coleridge was anxious to embody a dream of a friend, and the\nsuggestion of the shooting of the albatross came from Wordsworth, who\ngained the idea from Shelvocke's _Voyage_ (1726). A joint volume was\nplanned. Wordsworth was to show the real poetry that lies hidden in\ncommonplace subjects, while Coleridge was to treat supernatural subjects\nto illustrate the common emotions of humanity. From this sprang the\n_Lyrical Ballads_, to which Coleridge contributed _The Ancient Mariner_,\nthe _Nightingale_ and two scenes from _Osorio_, and after much cogitation\nthe book was published in 1798 at Bristol by Cottle, to whose\nreminiscences, often indulging too much in detail, we owe the account of\nthis remarkable time. A second edition of the _Lyrical Ballads_ in 1800\nincluded another poem by Coleridge--_Love_, to which subsequently the\nsub-title was given of _An Introduction to the Tale of the Dark Ladie_.\nTo the Stowey period belong also the tragedy of _Osorio_ (afterwards\nknown as _Remorse_), _Kubla Khan_ and the first part of _Christabel_. In\n1798 an annuity, granted him by the brothers Wedgwood, led Coleridge to\nabandon his reluctantly formed intention of becoming a Unitarian\nminister. For many years he had desired to see the continent, and in\nSeptember 1798, in company with Wordsworth and his sister, he left\nEngland for Hamburg. _Satyrane's Letters_ (republished in _Biog. Lit._\n1817) give an account of the tour.\n\nA new period in Coleridge's life now began. He soon left the Wordsworths\nto spend four months at Ratzeburg, whence he removed to Gottingen to\nattend lectures. A great intellectual movement had begun in Germany.\nColeridge was soon in the full whirl of excitement. He learnt much from\nBlumenbach and Eichhorn, and took interest in all that was going on\naround him. During his stay of nine months in Germany, he made himself\nmaster of the language to such purpose that the translation of\n_Wallenstein_--his first piece of literary work after his return to\nEngland--was actually accomplished in six weeks. It was published in\n1800, and, although it failed to make any impression on the general\npublic, it became at once prized by Scott and others as it deserved. It\nis matter for regret that a request to Coleridge that he should\nundertake to translate _Faust_ never received serious attention from\nhim. During these years Coleridge wrote many newspaper articles and some\npoems, among them \"Fire, Famine and Slaughter,\" for the _Morning Post_\n(January 8, 1798). He had vehemently opposed Pitt's policy, but a change\ncame over his way of thought, and he found himself separated from Fox on\nthe question of a struggle with Napoleon. He had lost his admiration for\nthe Revolutionists, as his \"Ode to France\" shows (_Morning Post_, April\n16, 1798). Like many other Whigs, he felt that all questions of domestic\npolicy must at a time of European peril be postponed. From this time,\nhowever, his value for the ordered liberty of constitutional government\nincreased; and though never exactly to be found among the ranks of\nold-fashioned Constitutionalists, during the remainder of his life he\nkept steadily in view the principles which received their full\nexposition in his well-known work on _Church and State_. In the year\n1800 Coleridge left London for the Lakes. Here in that year he wrote the\nsecond part of _Christabel_. In 1803 Southey became a joint lodger with\nColeridge at Greta Hall, Keswick, of which in 1812 Southey became sole\ntenant and occupier.\n\nIn 1801 begins the period of Coleridge's life during which, in spite of\nthe evidence of work shown in his compositions, he sank more and more\nunder the dominion of opium, in which he may have first indulged at\nCambridge. Few things are so sad to read as the letters in which he\ndetails the consequences of his transgression. He was occasionally seen\nin London during the first years of the century, and wherever he\nappeared he was the delight of admiring circles. He toured in Scotland\nwith the Wordsworths in 1803, visited Malta in 1804, when for ten months\nhe acted as secretary to the governor, and stayed nearly eight months at\nNaples and Rome in 1805-1806. In Rome he received a hint that his\narticles in the _Morning Post_ had been brought to Napoleon's notice,\nand he made the voyage from Leghorn in an American ship. On a visit to\nSomersetshire in 1807 he met De Quincey for the first time, and the\nyounger man's admiration was shown by a gift of L300, \"from an unknown\nfriend.\" In 1809 he started a magazine called _The Friend_, which\ncontinued only for eight months. At the same time Coleridge began to\ncontribute to the _Courier_. In 1808 he lectured at the Royal\nInstitution, but with little success, and two years later he gave his\nlectures on Shakespeare and other poets. These lectures attracted great\nattention and were followed by two other series. In 1812 his income from\nthe Wedgwoods was reduced, and he settled the remainder on his wife. His\nfriends were generous in assisting him with money. Eventually Mackintosh\nobtained a grant of L100 a year for him in 1824 during the lifetime of\nGeorge IV., as one of the royal associates of the Society of Literature,\nand at different times he received help principally from Stuart, the\npublisher, Poole, Sotheby, Sir George Beaumont, Byron and Wordsworth,\nwhile his children shared Southey's home at Keswick. But between 1812\nand 1817 Coleridge made a good deal by his work, and was able to send\nmoney to his wife in addition to the annuity she received. The tragedy\nof _Remorse_ was produced at Drury Lane in 1813, and met with\nconsiderable success. Three years after this, having failed to conquer\nthe opium habit, he determined to enter the family of Mr James Gillman,\nwho lived at Highgate. The letter in which he discloses his misery to\nthis kind and thoughtful man gives a real insight into his character.\nUnder judicious treatment the hour of mastery at last arrived. The shore\nwas reached, but the vessel had been miserably shattered in its passage\nthrough the rocks. For the rest of his life he hardly ever left his home\nat Highgate. During his residence there, _Christabel_, written many\nyears before, and known to a favoured few, was first published in a\nvolume with _Kubla Khan_ and the _Pains of Sleep_ in 1816. He read\nwidely and wisely, in poetry, philosophy and divinity. In 1816 and the\nfollowing year, he gave his _Lay Sermons_ to the world. _Sibylline\nLeaves_ appeared in 1817; the _Biographia Literaria_ and a revised\nedition of _The Friend_ soon followed. Seven years afterwards his most\npopular prose work--_The Aids to Reflection_--first appeared. His last\npublication, in 1830, was the work on _Church and State_. It was not\ntill 1840 that his _Confessions of an Inquiring Spirit_, by far his most\nseminal work, was posthumously published. In 1833 he appeared at the\nmeeting of the British Association at Cambridge, but he died in the\nfollowing year (25th of July 1834), and was buried in the churchyard\nclose to the house of Mr Gillman, where he had enjoyed every consolation\nwhich friendship and love could render. Coleridge died in the communion\nof the Church of England, of whose polity and teaching he had been for\nmany years a loving admirer. An interesting letter to his god-child,\nwritten twelve days before his death, sums up his spiritual experience\nin a most touching form.\n\nOf the extraordinary influence which he exercised in conversation it is\nimpossible to speak fully here. Many of the most remarkable among the\nyounger men of that period resorted to Highgate as to the shrine of an\noracle, and although one or two disparaging judgments, such as that of\nCarlyle, have been recorded, there can be no doubt that since Samuel\nJohnson there had been no such power in England. His nephew, Henry\nNelson Coleridge, gathered together some specimens of the _Table Talk_\nof the few last years. But remarkable as these are for the breadth of\nsympathy and extent of reading disclosed, they will hardly convey the\nimpressions furnished in a dramatic form, as in Boswell's great work.\nFour volumes of _Literary Remains_ were published after his death, and\nthese, along with the chapters on the poetry of Wordsworth in the\n_Biographia Literaria_, may be said to exhibit the full range of\nColeridge's power as a critic of poetry. In this region he stands\nsupreme. With regard to the preface, which contains Wordsworth's theory,\nColeridge has honestly expressed his dissent:--\"With many parts of this\npreface, in the sense attributed to them, and which the words\nundoubtedly seem to authorize, I never concurred; but, on the contrary,\nobjected to them as erroneous in principle, and contradictory (in\nappearance at least) both to other parts of the same preface, and to the\nauthor's own practice in the greater number of the poems themselves.\"\nThis disclaimer of perfect agreement renders the remaining portion of\nwhat he says more valuable. Coleridge was in England the creator of that\nhigher criticism which had already in Germany accomplished so much in\nthe hands of Lessing and Goethe. It is enough to refer here to the\nfragmentary series of his Shakespearian criticisms, containing evidence\nof the truest insight, and a marvellous appreciation of the judicial\n\"sanity\" which raises the greatest name in literature far above even the\nhighest of the poets who approached him.\n\nAs a poet Coleridge's own place is safe. His niche in the great gallery\nof English poets is secure. Of no one can it be more emphatically said\nthat at his highest he was \"of imagination all compact.\" He does not\npossess the fiery pulse and humaneness of Burns, but the exquisite\nperfection of his metre and the subtle alliance of his thought and\nexpression must always secure for him the warmest admiration of true\nlovers of poetic art. In his early poems may be found traces of the\nfierce struggle of his youth. The most remarkable is the _Monody on the\nDeath of Chatterton_ and the _Religious Musings_. In what may be called\nhis second period, the ode entitled _France_, considered by Shelley the\nfinest in the language, is most memorable. The whole soul of the poet is\nreflected in the _Ode to Dejection_. The well-known lines--\n\n  \"O Lady! we receive but what we give,\n   And in our life alone does nature live;\n   Ours is her wedding garment, ours her shroud,\"\n\nwith the passage which follows, contain more vividly, perhaps, than\nanything which Coleridge has written, the expression of the shaping and\ncolouring function which he assigns, in the _Biographia Literaria_, to\nimagination. _Christabel_ and the _Ancient Mariner_ have so completely\ntaken possession of the highest place, that it is needless to do more\nthan allude to them. The supernatural has never received such treatment\nas in these two wonderful productions of his genius, and though the\nfirst of them remains a torso, it is the loveliest torso in the gallery\nof English literature. Although Coleridge had, for many years before his\ndeath, almost entirely forsaken poetry, the few fragments of work which\nremain, written in later years, show little trace of weakness, although\nthey are wanting in the unearthly melody which imparts such a charm to\n_Kubla Khan_, _Love_ and _Youth and Age_.     (G. D. B.; H. CH.)\n\nIn the latter part of his life, and for the generation which followed,\nColeridge was ranked by many young English churchmen of liberal views as\nthe greatest religious thinker of their time. As Carlyle has told in his\n_Life of Sterling_, the poet's distinction, in the eyes of the younger\nchurchmen with philosophic interests, lay in his having recovered and\npreserved his Christian faith after having passed through periods of\nrationalism and Unitarianism, and faced the full results of German\ncriticism and philosophy. His opinions, however, were at all periods\nsomewhat mutable, and it would be difficult to state them in any form\nthat would hold good for the whole even of his later writings. He was,\nindeed, too receptive of thought impressions of all kinds to be a\nconsistent systematizer. As a schoolboy, by his own account, he was for\na time a Voltairean, on the strength of a perusal of the _Philosophical\nDictionary_. At college, as we have seen, he turned Unitarian. From that\nposition he gradually moved towards pantheism, a way of thought to which\nhe had shown remarkable leanings when, as a schoolboy, he discoursed of\nNeo-Platonism to Charles Lamb, or--if we may trust his\nrecollection--translated the hymns of Synesius. Early in life, too, he\nmet with the doctrines of Jacob Behmen, of whom, in the _Biographia\nLiteraria_, he speaks with affection and gratitude as having given him\nvital philosophic guidance. Between pantheism and Unitarianism he seems\nto have balanced till his thirty-fifth year, always tending towards the\nformer in virtue of the recoil from \"anthropomorphism\" which originally\ntook him to Unitarianism. In 1796, when he named his first child David\nHartley, but would not have him baptized, he held by the \"Christian\nmaterialism\" of the writer in question, whom in his _Religious Musings_\nhe terms \"wisest of mortal kind.\"\n\nWhen, again, he met Wordsworth in 1797, the two poets freely and\nsympathetically discussed Spinoza, for whom Coleridge always retained a\ndeep admiration; and when in 1798 he gave up his Unitarian preaching, he\nnamed his second child Berkeley, signifying a new allegiance, but still\nwithout accepting Christian rites otherwise than passively. Shortly\nafterwards he went to Germany, where he began to study Kant, and was\nmuch captivated by Lessing. In the _Biographia_ he avows that the\nwritings of Kant \"more than any other work, at once invigorated and\ndisciplined my understanding\"; yet the gist of his estimate there is\nthat Kant left his system undeveloped, as regards his idea of the\nNoumenon, for fear of orthodox persecution--a judgment hardly compatible\nwith any assumption of Kant's Christian orthodoxy, which was notoriously\ninadequate. But after his stay at Malta, Coleridge announced to his\nfriends that he had given up his \"Socinianism\" (of which ever afterwards\nhe spoke with asperity), professing a return to Christian faith, though\nstill putting on it a mystical construction, as when he told Crabb\nRobinson that \"Jesus Christ was a Platonic philosopher.\" At this stage\nhe was much in sympathy with the historico-rationalistic criticism of\nthe Old Testament, as carried on in Germany; giving his assent, for\ninstance, to the naturalistic doctrine of Schiller's _Die Sendung\nMoses_. From about 1810 onwards, however, he openly professed Christian\northodoxy, while privately indicating views which cannot be so\ndescribed. And even his published speculations were such as to draw from\nJ. H. Newman a protest that they took \"a liberty which no Christian can\ntolerate,\" and carried him to \"conclusions which were often heathen\nrather than Christian.\" This would apply to some of his positions\nconcerning the Logos and the Trinity. After giving up Unitarianism he\nclaimed that from the first he had been a Trinitarian on Platonic lines;\nand some of his latest statements of the doctrine are certainly more\npantheistic than Christian.\n\nThe explanation seems to be that while on Christian grounds he\nrepeatedly denounced pantheism as being in all its forms equivalent to\natheism, he was latterly much swayed by the thought of Schelling in the\npantheistic direction which was natural to him. To these conflicting\ntendencies were probably due his self-contradictions on the problem of\noriginal sin and the conflicting claims of feeling and reason. It would\nseem that, in the extreme spiritual vicissitudes of his life, conscious\nalternately of personal weakness and of the largest speculative grasp,\nhe at times threw himself entirely on the consolations of evangelical\nfaith, and at others reconstructed the cosmos for himself in terms of\nNeo-Platonism and the philosophy of Schelling. So great were his\nvariations even in his latter years, that he could speak to his friend\nAllsop in a highly latitudinarian sense, declaring that in Christianity\n\"the miracles are supererogatory,\" and that \"the law of God and the\ngreat principles of the Christian religion would have been the same had\nChrist never assumed humanity.\"\n\nFrom Schelling, whom he praised as having developed Kant where Fichte\nfailed to do so, he borrowed much and often, not only in the\nmetaphysical sections of the _Biographia_ but in his aesthetic lectures,\nand further in the cosmic speculations of the posthumous _Theory of\nLife_. On the first score he makes but an equivocal acknowledgment,\nclaiming to have thought on Schelling's lines before reading him; but it\nhas been shown by Hamilton and Ferrier that besides transcribing much\nfrom Schelling without avowal he silently appropriated the learning of\nMaass on philosophical history. In other directions he laid under\ntribute Herder and Lessing; yet all the while he cast severe imputations\nof plagiarism upon Hume and others. His own plagiarisms were doubtless\nfacilitated by the physiological effects of opium.\n\nInasmuch as he finally followed in philosophy the mainly poetical or\ntheosophic movement of Schelling, which satisfied neither the logical\nneeds appealed to by Hegel nor the new demand for naturalistic\ninduction, Coleridge, after arousing a great amount of philosophic\ninterest in his own country in the second quarter of the century, has\nceased to \"make a school.\" Thus his significance in intellectual history\nremains that of a great stimulator. He undoubtedly did much to deepen\nand liberalize Christian thought in England, his influence being\nspecially marked in the school of F. D. Maurice, and in the lives of men\nlike John Sterling. And even his many borrowings from the German were\nassimilated with a rare power of development, which bore fruit not only\nin a widening of the field of English philosophy but in the larger\nscientific thought of a later generation.     (J. M. RO.)\n\n  Of Coleridge's four children, two (Hartley and Sara) are separately\n  noticed. His second child, Berkeley, died when a baby. The third,\n  Derwent (1800-1883), a distinguished scholar and author, was master of\n  Helston school, Cornwall (1825-1841), first principal of St Mark's\n  College, Chelsea (1841-1864), and rector of Hanwell (1864-1880); and\n  his daughter Christabel (b. 1843) and son Ernest Hartley (b. 1846)\n  both became well known in the world of letters, the former as a\n  novelist, the latter as a biographer and critic.\n\n  After Coleridge's death several of his works were edited by his\n  nephew, Henry Nelson Coleridge, the husband of Sara, the poet's only\n  daughter. In 1847 Sara Coleridge published the _Biographia Literaria_,\n  enriched with annotations and biographical supplement from her own\n  pen. Three volumes of political writings, entitled _Essays on his Own\n  Times_, were also published by Sara Coleridge in 1850. The standard\n  life of Coleridge is that by J. <DW18>s Campbell (1894); his letters\n  were edited by E. H. Coleridge.\n\n\n\n\nCOLERIDGE, SARA (1802-1852), English author, the fourth child and only\ndaughter of Samuel Taylor Coleridge and his wife Sarah Fricker of\nBristol, was born on the 23rd of December 1802, at Greta Hall, Keswick.\nHere, after 1803, the Coleridges, Southey and his wife (Mrs Coleridge's\nsister), and Mrs Lovell (another sister), widow of Robert Lovell, the\nQuaker poet, all lived together; but Coleridge was often away from home;\nand \"Uncle Southey\" was a _pater familias_. The Wordsworths at Grasmere\nwere their neighbours. Wordsworth, in his poem, the _Triad_, has left us\na description, or \"poetical glorification,\" as Sara Coleridge calls it,\nof the three girls--his own daughter Dora, Edith Southey and Sara\nColeridge, the \"last of the three, though eldest born.\" Greta Hall was\nSara Coleridge's home until her marriage; and the little Lake colony\nseems to have been her only school. Guided by Southey, and with his\nample library at her command, she read by herself the chief Greek and\nLatin classics, and before she was five-and-twenty had learnt French,\nGerman, Italian and Spanish.\n\nIn 1822 Sara Coleridge published _Account of the Abipones_, a\ntranslation in three large volumes of Dobrizhoffer, undertaken in\nconnexion with Southey's _Tale of Paraguay_, which had been suggested to\nhim by Dobrizhoffer's volumes; and Southey alludes to his niece, the\ntranslator (canto iii. stanza 16), where he speaks of the pleasure the\nold missionary would have felt if\n\n  \".... he could in Merlin's glass have seen\n   By whom his tomes to speak our tongue were taught.\"\n\nIn less grandiloquent terms, Charles Lamb, writing about the _Tale of\nParaguay_ to Southey in 1825, says, \"How she Dobrizhoffered it all out,\npuzzles my slender Latinity to conjecture.\" In 1825 her second work\nappeared, a translation from the medieval French of the \"Loyal\nServiteur,\" _The Right Joyous and Pleasant History of the Feats, Jests,\nand Prowesses of the Chevalier Bayard, the Good Knight without Fear and\nwithout Reproach: By the Loyal Servant_.\n\nIn September 1829 at Crosthwaite church, Keswick, after an engagement of\nseven years' duration, Sara Coleridge was married to her cousin, Henry\nNelson Coleridge (1798-1843), younger son of Captain James Coleridge\n(1760-1836). He was then a chancery barrister in London. The first eight\nyears of her married life were spent in a little cottage in Hampstead.\nThere four of her children were born, of whom two survived. In 1834 Mrs\nColeridge published her _Pretty Lessons in Verse for Good Children; with\nsome Lessons in Latin in Easy Rhyme_. These were originally written for\nthe instruction of her own children, and became very popular. In 1837\nthe Coleridges removed to Chester Place, Regent's Park; and in the same\nyear appeared _Phantasmion, a Fairy Tale_, Sara Coleridge's longest\noriginal work. The songs in _Phantasmion_ were much admired at the time\nby Leigh Hunt and other critics. Some of them, such as \"Sylvan Stay\" and\n\"One Face Alone,\" are extremely graceful and musical, and the whole\nfairy tale is noticeable for the beauty of the story and the richness of\nits language.\n\nIn 1843 Henry Coleridge died, leaving to his widow the unfinished task\nof editing her father's works. To these she added some compositions of\nher own, among which are the _Essay on Rationalism, with a special\napplication to the Doctrine of Baptismal_ _Regeneration_, appended to\nColeridge's _Aids to Reflection_, a Preface to the _Essays on his Own\nTimes, by S. T. Coleridge_, and the Introduction to the _Biographia\nLiteraria_. During the last few years of her life Sara Coleridge was a\nconfirmed invalid. Shortly before she died she amused herself by writing\na little autobiography for her daughter. This, which reaches only to her\nninth year, was completed by her daughter, and published in 1873,\ntogether with some of her letters, under the title _Memoirs and Letters\nof Sara Coleridge_. The letters show a cultured and highly speculative\nmind. They contain many apt criticisms of known people and books, and\nare specially interesting for their allusions to Wordsworth and the Lake\nPoets. Sara Coleridge died in London on the 3rd of May 1852.\n\nHer son, Herbert Coleridge (1830-1861), won a double first class in\nclassics and mathematics at Oxford in 1852. He was secretary to a\ncommittee appointed by the Philological Society to consider the project\nof a standard English dictionary, a scheme of which the _New English\nDictionary_, published by the Clarendon Press, was the ultimate outcome.\nHis personal researches into the subject were contained in his\n_Glossarial Index to the Printed English Literature of the Thirteenth\nCentury_ (1859).\n\n\n\n\nCOLET, JOHN (1467?-1510), English divine and educationist, the eldest\nson of Sir Henry Colet (lord mayor of London 1486 and 1495), was born in\nLondon about 1467. He was educated at St Anthony's school and at\nMagdalen College, Oxford, where he took the M.A. degree in 1490. He\nalready held the non-resident rectory of Dennington, Suffolk, and the\nvicarage of St Dunstan's, Stepney, and was now collated rector of\nThurning, Hunts. In 1493 he went to Paris and thence to Italy, studying\ncanon and civil law, patristics and the rudiments of Greek. During his\nresidence abroad he became acquainted with Budaeus (Guillaume Bude) and\nErasmus, and with the teaching of Savonarola. On his return to England\nin 1496 he took orders and settled at Oxford, where he lectured on the\nepistles of St Paul, replacing the old scholastic method of\ninterpretation by an exegesis more in harmony with the new learning. His\nmethods did much to influence Erasmus, who visited Oxford in 1498, and\nin after years Erasmus received an annuity from him. Since 1494 he had\nbeen prebendary of York, and canon of St Martin le Grand, London. In\n1502 he became prebendary of Salisbury, in 1505 prebendary of St Paul's,\nand immediately afterwards dean of the same cathedral, having previously\ntaken the degree of doctor of divinity. Here he continued his practice\nof lecturing on the books of the Bible; and he soon afterwards\nestablished a perpetual divinity lecture, on three days in each week, in\nSt Paul's church. About the year 1508, having inherited his father's\nlarge wealth, Colet formed his plan for the re-foundation of St Paul's\nschool, which he completed in 1512, and endowed with estates of an\nannual value of L122 and upwards. The celebrated grammarian William\nLilly was the first master, and the company of mercers were (in 1510)\nappointed trustees, the first example of non-clerical management in\neducation. The dean's religious opinions were so much more liberal than\nthose of the contemporary clergy (whose ignorance and corruption he\ndenounced) that they deemed him little better than a heretic; but\nWilliam Warham, the archbishop, refused to prosecute him. Similarly\nHenry VIII. held him in high esteem despite his sermons against the\nFrench wars. In 1514 he made the Canterbury pilgrimage, and in 1515\npreached at Wolsey's installation as cardinal. Colet died of the\nsweating sickness on the 16th of September 1519. He was buried on the\nsouth side of the choir of St Paul's, where a stone was laid over his\ngrave, with no other inscription than his name. Besides the preferments\nabove mentioned, he was rector of the gild of Jesus at St Paul's and\nchaplain to Henry VIII.\n\nColet, though never dreaming of a formal breach with the Roman Church,\nwas a keen reformer, who disapproved of auricular confession, and of the\ncelibacy of the clergy. Though no great scholar or writer, he was a\npowerful force in the England of his day, and helped materially to\ndisintegrate the medieval conditions still obtaining, and to introduce\nthe humanist movement. Among his works, which were first collectively\npublished in 1867-1876, are _Absolutissimus de octo orationis partium\nconstructione libellus_ (Antwerp, 1530), _Rudimenta Grammatices_\n(London, 1539), _Daily Devotions_, _Monition to a Godly Life_,\n_Epistolae ad Erasmum_, and commentaries on different parts of the\nBible.\n\n  See F. Seebohm, _The Oxford Reformers_; J. H. Lupton, _Life of John\n  Colet_ (1887); art. in _The Times_, July 7, 1909.\n\n\n\n\nCOLET, LOUISE (1810-1876), French poet and novelist, was born at Aix of\na Provencal family named Revoil, on the 15th of September 1810. In 1835\nshe came to Paris with her husband Hippolyte Colet (1808-1851), a\ncomposer of music and professor of harmony and counterpoint at the\nconservatoire. In 1836 appeared her _Fleurs du Midi_, a volume of verse,\nof liberal tendency, followed by _Penserosa_ (1839), a second volume of\nverse; by _La Jeunesse de Goethe_ (1839), a one-act comedy; by _Les\nCoeurs brises_ (1843), a novel; _Les Funerailles de Napoleon_ (1840),\na poem, and _La Jeunesse de Mirabeau_ (1841), a novel. Her works were\ncrowned five or six times by the Institute, a distinction which she\nowed, however, to the influence of Victor Cousin rather than to the\nquality of her work. The criticisms on her books and on the prizes\nconferred on her by the Academy exasperated her; and in 1841 Paris was\ndiverted by her attempted reprisals on Alphonse Karr for certain notices\nin _Les Guepes_. In 1849 she had to defend an action brought against her\nby the heirs of Madame Recamier, whose correspondence with Benjamin\nConstant she had published in the columns of the _Presse_. She produced\na host of writings in prose and verse, but she is perhaps best known for\nher intimate connexion with some of her famous contemporaries, Abel\nVillemain, Gustave Flaubert and Victor Cousin. Only one of her books is\nnow of interest--_Lui: roman contemporain_ (1859), the novel in which\nshe told the story of her life. She died on the 8th of March 1876.\n\n\n\n\nCOLEUS, a genus of herbaceous or shrubby plants belonging to the natural\norder Labiatae, chiefly natives of the tropics. They are very ornamental\nplants, the colour of their leaves being exceedingly varied, and often\nvery brilliant. They are of the easiest culture. The cuttings of young\nshoots should be propagated every year, about March, being planted in\nthumb pots, in sandy loam, and placed in a close temperature of 70 deg.\nAfter taking root shift into 6-in. pots, using ordinary light loamy\ncompost, containing abundance of leaf-mould and sand, and keeping them\nnear the light. They may be passed on into larger pots as often as\nrequired, but 8-in. pots will be large enough for general purposes, as\nthey can be fed with liquid manure. The young spring-struck plants like\na warm growing atmosphere, but by midsummer they will bear more air and\nstand in a greenhouse or conservatory. They should be wintered in a\ntemperature of 60 deg. to 65 deg. The stopping of the young shoots must\nbe regulated by the consideration whether bushy or pyramidal plants are\ndesired. Some of the varieties are half-hardy and are used for summer\nbedding.\n\n\n\n\nCOLFAX, SCHUYLER (1823-1885), American political leader, vice-president\nof the United States from 1869 to 1873, was born in New York city on the\n23rd of March 1823. His father died before the son's birth, and his\nmother subsequently married a Mr Matthews. The son attended the public\nschools of New York until he was ten, and then became a clerk in his\nstep-father's store, removing in 1836 with his mother and step-father to\nNew Carlisle, Indiana. In 1841 he removed to South Bend, where for eight\nyears he was deputy auditor (his step-father being auditor) of St Joseph\ncounty; in 1842-1844 he was assistant enrolling clerk of the state\nsenate and senate reporter for the _Indiana State Journal_. In 1845 he\nestablished the _St Joseph Valley Register_, which he published for\neighteen years and made an influential Whig and later Republican\njournal. In 1850 he was a member of the state constitutional convention,\nand in 1854 took an active part in organizing the \"Anti-Nebraska men\"\n(later called Republicans) of his state, and was by them sent to\nCongress. Here he served with distinction from 1855 until 1869, the last\nsix years as speaker of the House. At the close of the Civil War he was\na leading member of the radical wing of the Republican party, advocating\nthe disfranchisement of all who had been prominent in the service of\nthe Confederacy, and declaring that \"loyalty must govern what loyalty\nhas preserved.\" In 1868 he had presidential aspirations, and was not\nwithout supporters. He accepted, however, the Republican nomination as\nvice-president on a ticket headed by General Grant, and was elected; but\nhe failed in 1872 to secure renomination. During the political campaign\nof 1872 he was accused, with other prominent politicians, of being\nimplicated in corrupt transactions with the Credit Mobilier, and a\ncongressional investigation brought out the fact that he had agreed to\ntake twenty shares from this concern, and had received dividends\namounting to $1200. It also leaked out during the investigation that he\nhad received in 1868, as a campaign contribution, a gift of $4000 from a\ncontractor who had supplied the government with envelopes while Colfax\nwas chairman of the post office committee of the House. At the close of\nhis term Colfax returned to private life under a cloud, and during the\nremainder of his lifetime earned a livelihood by delivering popular\nlectures. He died at Mankato, Minnesota, on the 13th of January 1885.\n\n  See J. C. Hollister's _Life of Schuyler Colfax_ (New York, 1886).\n\n\n\n\nCOLIC (from the Gr. [Greek: kolon] or [Greek: kolon], the large\nintestine), a term in medicine of very indefinite meaning, used by\nphysicians outside England for any paroxysmal abdominal pain, but\ngenerally limited in England to a sudden sharp pain having its origin in\nthe pelvis of the kidney, the ureter, gall-bladder, bile-ducts or\nintestine. Thus it is customary to speak of renal, biliary or intestinal\ncolic. There is a growing tendency, however, among professional men of\nto-day, to restrict the use of the word to a pain produced by the\ncontraction of the muscular walls of any of the hollow viscera of which\nthe aperture has become more or less occluded, temporarily or otherwise.\nFor renal and biliary colic, see the articles KIDNEY DISEASES and LIVER,\nonly intestinal colic being treated in this place.\n\nIn infants, usually those who are \"bottle-fed,\" colic is exceedingly\ncommon, and is shown by the drawing up of their legs, their restlessness\nand their continuous cries.\n\nAmong adults one of the most serious causes is that due to\nlead-poisoning and known as lead colic (_Syn._ painters' colic, _colica\nPictonum_, Devonshire colic), from its having been clearly ascertained\nto be due to the absorption of lead into the system (see\nLEAD-POISONING). This disease had been observed and described long\nbefore its cause was discovered. Its occurrence in an epidemic form\namong the inhabitants of Poitou was recorded by Francois Citois\n(1572-1652) in 1617, under the title of _Novus et popularis apud\nPictones dolor colicus biliosus_. The disease was thereafter termed\n_colica Pictonum_. It was supposed to be due to the acidity of the\nnative wines, but it was afterwards found to depend on lead contained in\nthem. A similar epidemic broke out in certain parts of Germany in the\nend of the 17th century, and was at the time believed by various\nphysicians to be caused by the admixture of acid wines with litharge to\nsweeten them.\n\nAbout the middle of the 18th century this disease, which had long been\nknown to prevail in Devonshire, was carefully investigated by Sir George\nBaker (1722-1809), who succeeded in tracing it unmistakably to the\ncontamination of the native beverage, cider, with lead, either\naccidentally from the leadwork of the vats and other apparatus for\npreparing the liquor, or from its being sweetened with litharge.\n\nIn Germany a similar colic resulting from the absorption of copper\noccurs, but it is almost unknown in England.\n\nThe simplest form of colic is that arising from habitual constipation,\nthe muscular wall of the intestines contracting painfully to overcome\nthe resistance of hardened scybalous masses of faeces, which cause more\nor less obstruction to the onward passage of the intestinal contents.\nAnother equally common cause is that due to irritating or indigestible\nfood such as apples, pears or nuts, heavy pastry, meat pies and\npuddings, &c. It may then be associated with either constipation or\ndiarrhoea, though the latter is the more common. It may result from any\nform of enteritis as simple, mucous and ulcerative colitis, or an\nintestinal malignant growth. The presence of _ascaris lumbricoides_\nmay, by reflex action, set up a very painful nervous spasm; and certain\nforms of influenza (q.v.) are ushered in by colic of a very pronounced\ntype. Many physicians describe a rheumatic colic due to cold and damp,\nand among women disease of the pelvic organs may give rise to an exactly\nsimilar pain. There are also those forms of colic which must be classed\nas functional or neuralgic, though this view of the case must never be\naccepted until every other possible cause is found to be untenable. From\nthis short account of a few of the commoner causes of the trouble, it\nwill be clear that colic is merely a symptom of disease, not a disease\nin itself, and that no diagnosis has been made until the cause of the\npain has been determined.\n\nIntestinal colic is paroxysmal, usually both beginning and ending\nsuddenly. The pain is generally referred to the neighbourhood of the\numbilicus, and may radiate all over the abdomen. It varies in intensity\nfrom a slight momentary discomfort to a pain so severe as to cause the\npatient to shriek or even to break out into a cold clammy sweat. It is\nusually relieved by pressure, and this point is one which aids in the\ndifferential diagnosis between a simple colic and peritonitis, the pain\nof the latter being increased by pressure. But should the colic be due\nto a malignant growth, or should the intestines be distended with gas,\npressure will probably increase the pain. The temperature is usually\nsubnormal, but may be slightly raised, and the pulse is in proportion.\n\nIn the treatment of simple colic the patient must be confined to bed,\nhot fomentations applied to the abdomen and a purge administered, a few\ndrops of laudanum being added when the pain is exceptionally severe. But\nthe whole difficulty lies in making the differential diagnosis. Acute\nintestinal obstruction (ileus) begins just as an attack of simple colic,\nbut the rapid increase of illness, frequent vomiting, anxious\ncountenance, and still more the condition of the pulse, warn a trained\nobserver of the far more serious state. Appendicitis and peritonitis, as\nalso the gastric crises of locomotor ataxy, must all be excluded.\n\n\n\n\nCOLIGNY, GASPARD DE (1519-1572), admiral of France and Protestant\nleader, came of a noble family of Burgundy, who traced their descent\nfrom the 11th century, and in the reign of Louis XI. were in the service\nof the king of France. His father, Gaspard de Coligny, known as the\nmarechal de Chatillon (d. 1522), served in the Italian wars from 1495 to\n1515, and was created marshal of France in 1516. By his wife, Louise de\nMontmorency, sister of the future constable, he had three sons: Odet,\ncardinal de Chatillon; Gaspard, the admiral; and Francis, seigneur\nd'Andelot; all of whom played an important part in the first period of\nthe wars of religion. At twenty-two young Gaspard came to court, and\nthere contracted a friendship with Francis of Guise. In the campaign of\n1543 Coligny distinguished himself greatly, and was wounded at the\nsieges of Montmedy and Bains. In 1544 he served in the Italian campaign\nunder the duke of Enghien, and was knighted on the field of Ceresole.\nReturning to France, he took part in different military operations; and\nhaving been made colonel-general of the infantry (April 1547), exhibited\ngreat capacity and intelligence as a military reformer. He was made\nadmiral on the death of d'Annebaut (1552). In 1557 he was entrusted with\nthe defence of Saint Quentin. In the siege he displayed great courage,\nresolution, and strength of character; but the place was taken, and he\nwas imprisoned in the stronghold of L'Ecluse. On payment of a ransom of\n50,000 crowns he recovered his liberty. But he had by this time become a\nHuguenot, through the influence of his brother, d'Andelot--the first\nletter which Calvin addressed to him is dated the 4th of September\n1558--and he busied himself secretly with protecting his\nco-religionists, a colony of whom he sent to Brazil, whence they were\nafterwards expelled by the Portuguese.\n\nOn the death of Henry II. he placed himself, with Louis, prince of\nConde, in the front of his sect, and demanded religious toleration and\ncertain other reforms. In 1560, at the Assembly of Notables at\nFontainebleau, the hostility between Coligny and Francis of Guise broke\nforth violently. When the civil wars began in 1562, Coligny decided to\ntake arms only after long hesitation, and he was always ready to\nnegotiate. In none of these wars did he show superior genius, but he\nacted throughout with great prudence and extraordinary tenacity; he was\n\"le heros de la mauvaise fortune.\" In 1569 the defeat and death of the\nprince of Conde at Jarnac left him sole leader of the Protestant armies.\nVictorious at Arnay-le-Duc, he obtained in 1570 the pacification of St\nGermain. Returning to the court in 1571, he grew rapidly in favour with\nCharles XI. As a means of emancipating the king from the tutelage of his\nmother and the faction of the Guises, the admiral proposed to him a\ndescent on Spanish Flanders, with an army drawn from both sects and\ncommanded by Charles in person. The king's regard for the admiral, and\nthe bold front of the Huguenots, alarmed the queen-mother; and the\nmassacre of St Bartholomew was the consequence. On the 22nd of August\n1572 Coligny was shot in the street by Maurevel, a bravo in the pay of\nthe queen-mother and Guise; the bullets, however, only tore a finger\nfrom his right hand and shattered his left elbow. The king visited him,\nbut the queen-mother prevented all private intercourse between them. On\nthe 24th of August, the night of the massacre, he was attacked in his\nhouse, and a servant of the duke of Guise, generally known as Besme,\nslew him and cast him from a window into the courtyard at his master's\nfeet. His papers were seized and burned by the queen-mother; among them,\naccording to Brantome, was a history of the civil war, \"tres-beau et\ntres-bien faict, et digne d'estre imprime.\"\n\nBy his wife, Charlotte de Laval, Coligny had several children, among\nthem being Louise, who married first Charles de Teligny and afterwards\nWilliam the Silent, prince of Orange, and Francis, admiral of Guienne,\nwho was one of the devoted servants of Henry IV. Gaspard de Coligny\n(1584-1646), son of Francis, was marshal of France during the reign of\nLouis XIII.\n\n  See Jean du Bouchet, _Preuves de l'histoire genealogique de l'illustre\n  maison de Coligny_ (Paris, 1661); biography by Francois Hotman, 1575\n  (French translation, 1665); L. J. Delaborde, _Gaspard de Coligny_\n  (1879-1882); Erich Marcks, _Gaspard von Coligny, sein Leben und das\n  Frankreich seiner Zeit_ (Stuttgart, 1892); H. Patry, \"Coligny et la\n  Papaute,\" in the _Bulletin du protestantisme francais_ (1902); A. W.\n  Whitehead, _Gaspard de Coligny, Admiral of France_ (1904); and C.\n  Merki, _L'Amiral de Coligny_ (1909).\n\n\n\n\nCOLIMA, a small Pacific coast state of Mexico, lying between Jalisco on\nthe N.W. and N., and Michoacan on the E. Including the Revilla Gigedo\nislands its area is only 2272 sq. m., which thus makes it the second\nsmallest of the Mexican states. Pop. (1895) 55,264; (1900) 65,115. The\nlarger part of its territory is within the narrow, flat coastal plain,\nbeyond which it rises toward the north-east into the foothills of the\nSierra Madre, the higher masses of the range, including the Colima\nvolcano, lying outside the state. It is drained by the Ameria and\nCoahuayana rivers and their affluents, which are largely used for\nirrigation. There are tidewater lagoons and morasses on the coast which\naccentuate its malarious character. One of the largest of these,\nCuitlan, immediately south of Manzanillo, is the centre of a large\nsalt-producing industry. The soil is generally fertile and productive,\nbut lack of transportation facilities has been a serious obstacle to any\nproduction greatly exceeding local demands. The dry and rainy seasons\nare sharply defined, the rainfall being abundant in the latter. The\nclimate is hot, humid and malarious, becoming drier and healthier on the\nhigher mountain <DW72>s of the interior. Stock-raising is an important\nindustry in the higher parts of the state, but the horses, mules and\ncattle raised have been limited to local demands. Agriculture, however,\nis the principal occupation of the state, the more important products\nbeing sugar, rice, Indian corn, palm oil, coffee, indigo, cotton and\ncacao. The production of cacao is small, and that of indigo and cotton\nis declining, the latter being limited to the requirements of small\nlocal mills. There are two crops of Indian corn a year, but sugar and\nrice are the principal crops. The \"Caracolillo\" coffee, produced on the\n<DW72>s of the mountains culminating in the volcano of Colima, is reputed\nthe best in Mexico, and the entire crop (about 506,000 lb. in 1906) is\nconsumed in the country at a price much above other grades. There are\nimportant mineral deposits in the state, including iron, copper and\nlead, but mining enterprise has made no progress through lack of\ntransportation facilities. Salt is made on the coast and shipped inland,\nand palm-leaf hats are manufactured and exported. Hides and deerskins\nare also exported in large quantities. A narrow-gauge railway has been\nin operation between the capital and Manzanillo for many years, and in\n1907 a branch of the Mexican Central was completed between Guadalajara\nand the capital, and the narrow-gauge line to the coast was widened to\nthe standard gauge. The chief cities of the state are the capital\nColima, Manzanillo, Comala (the second largest town in the state), 5 m.\nfrom the capital, with which it is connected by an electric railway,\nIxtlahuacan Coquimatlan and Almoloyan.\n\n\n\n\nCOLIMA, a city of Mexico and capital of a state of the same name, 570 m.\n(direct) W. by S. of Mexico City and about 36 m. inland from the Pacific\ncoast. Pop. (1895) 18,977; (1900) 20,698. Colima is picturesquely\nsituated on the Colima river, in a large fertile valley about 1650 ft.\nabove the sea, and lies in the midst of fine mountain-scenery. About 30\nm. to the north-east the volcano of Colima, in the state of Jalisco,\nrises to an elevation of 12,685 ft.; it is the most westerly of the\nactive volcanoes of Mexico. Colima enjoys a moderately cool and healthy\nclimate, especially in the dry season (November to June). The city is\nregularly laid out and is in great part well built, with good public\nbuildings, several churches, a theatre, two hospitals, and a handsome\nmarket completed in 1905. Tramways connect the central plaza with the\nrailway station, cemetery, and the suburb of Villa de Alvarez, 2-1\/2 m.\ndistant, and an extension of 5 m. was projected in 1906 to Comala. The\nlocal industries include two old-fashioned cotton mills, an ice plant,\ncorn-grinding mill, and five cigarette factories. Colima is the\ncommercial centre for a large district, but trade has been greatly\nrestricted by lack of transportation facilities. A railway connects with\nthe port of Manzanillo, and the Mexican Central railway serves Colima\nitself. Colima was founded in 1522 by Gonzalo de Sandoval. It has not\nplayed a very prominent part in Mexican history because of its\ninaccessibility, and for the same reason has suffered less from\nrevolutionary violence.\n\n\n\n\nCOLIN, ALEXANDRE (1526-1612), Flemish sculptor, was born at Malines. In\n1563 he went, at the invitation of the emperor Ferdinand I., to\nInnsbruck, to work on the magnificent monument which was being erected\nto Maximilian I. in the nave of the Franciscan church. Of the\ntwenty-four marble alti-rilievi, representing the emperor's principal\nacts and victories, which adorn the sides of this tomb, twenty were\nexecuted by Colin, apparently in three years. The work displays a\nremarkable combination of liveliness and spirit with extreme care and\nfinish, its delicacy rivalling that of a fine cameo. Thorwaldsen is said\nto have pronounced it the finest work of its kind. Colin, who was\nsculptor in ordinary both to the emperor and to his son, the archduke\nFerdinand of Tirol, did a great deal of work for his patrons at\nInnsbruck and in its neighbourhood; particular mention may be made of\nthe sepulchres of the archduke and his first wife, Philippine Welser,\nboth in the same church as the Maximilian monument, and of Bishop Jean\nNas. His tomb in the cemetery at Innsbruck bears a fine bas-relief\nexecuted by one of his sons.\n\n\n\n\nCOLL, an island of the Inner Hebrides, Argyllshire, Scotland. Pop.\n(1901) 432. It is situated about 7 m. west of Caliach Point in Mull, and\nmeasures 12 m. from N.E. to S.W., with a breadth varying from 3\/4 m. to 4\nm. It is composed of gneiss, is generally rather flat, save in the west\nwhere Ben Hogh reaches a height of 339 ft., and has several lakes. The\npasturage is good and the soil fairly fertile. Much dairy produce is\nexported, besides sheep and cattle. The antiquities include stone\ncircles, duns, the ruins of Breachacha Castle, once a fortress of the\nLords of the Isles. A steamer from Oban calls regularly at Arinagour.\n\n\n\n\nCOLLAERT, HANS, Flemish engraver, son of Adrian Collaert, a draughtsman\nand engraver of repute, was born at Antwerp about 1545. After working\nsome years in his father's studio, he went to Rome to perfect himself in\nhis art. His engravings after Rubens are very highly esteemed. He left\nmany works; among the best may be mentioned a \"Life of Saint Francis,\"\n16 prints; a \"Last Judgment,\" folio; \"Monilium, Bullarum, Inauriumque\nArtificiosissimae Icones,\" 10 prints, 1581; \"The Dead Christ in his\nMother's Lap\"; \"Marcus Curtius\"; \"Moses Striking the Rock,\" and \"The\nResurrection of Lazarus,\" after Lambert Lombard; \"The Fathers of the\nDesert\"; and \"Biblia Sacra and the History of the Church,\" after Rubens.\n\n\n\n\nCOLLAR, something worn or fastened round the neck (Lat. _collare_, from\n_collum_, neck), particularly a band of linen, lace or other material,\nwhich, under various shapes at different periods, has been worn by men\nand women to serve as a completion or finish to the neckband of a\ngarment (see COSTUME); also a chain, worn as a personal ornament, a\nbadge of livery, a symbol of office, or as part of the insignia of an\norder of knighthood, an application of the term with which the present\narticle deals. The word is also applied to that part of the\ndraught-harness of a horse which fits over the animal's neck, to which\nthe traces are attached, and against which the strain of the drawing of\nthe vehicle is exercised, and to a circular piece of metal passed round\nthe joints of a rod or pipe, to prevent movement or to make the joint\nsteam- or water-tight.\n\nNecklaces with beads and jewels threaded thereon or the plain laces with\na hanging ornament are among the common braveries of all times and\ncountries. From these come the collar and the neck-chain. Torques or\ntwisted collars of metal are found in burying-places of the barbarous\npeople of northern Europe. British chiefs wore them, and gold torques\nwere around the necks of the leaders of the first of the Saxon invaders\nof Britain, among whose descendants, however, the fashion seems to have\nlanguished. Edward the Confessor was buried with a neck-chain of gold 2\nft. long, fastened with a jewelled locket and carrying an enamelled\ncrucifix.\n\nThe extravagant age of Richard II. saw a great revival of the\nneck-chain, heavy links twisted of gold or silver. From this time onward\nneck chains, with or without pendant devices, were commonly worn by men\nand women of the richer sort. The men abandoned them in the time of\nCharles I.\n\nClosely allied to the chain are the livery collars which appeared in the\n14th century, worn by those who thus displayed their alliances or their\nfealty. Thus Charles V. of France in 1378 granted to his chamberlain\nGeoffrey de Belleville the right of bearing in all feasts and in all\ncompanies the collar of the _Cosse de Geneste_ or Broomcod, a collar\nwhich was accepted and worn even by the English kings, Charles VI.\nsending such collars to Richard II. and to his three uncles. This French\ncollar, a chain of couples of broom-cods linked by jewels, is seen in\nthe contemporary portrait of Richard II. at Wilton. The like collar was\nworn by Henry IV. on the way to his crowning. During the sitting of the\nEnglish parliament in 1394 the complaints of the earl of Arundel against\nRichard II. are recorded, one of his grievances being that the king was\nwont to wear the livery of the collar of the duke of Lancaster, his\nuncle, and that people of the king's following wore the same livery. To\nwhich the king answered that soon after the return from Spain (in 1389)\nof his uncle, the said duke, he himself took the collar from his uncle's\nneck, putting it on his own, which collar the king would wear and use\nfor a sign of the good and whole-hearted love between them, even as he\nwore the liveries of his other uncles. Livery collars of the king of\nFrance, of Queen Anne and of the dukes of York and Lancaster are\nnumbered with the royal plate and jewels which in the first year of\nHenry IV. had come to the king's hands. The inventory shows that Queen\nAnne's collar was made up of sprigs of rosemary garnished with pearls.\nThe York collar had falcons and fetterlocks, and the Lancaster collar\nwas doubtless that collar of Esses (or S S) used by the duke's son,\nHenry of Bolingbroke, as an earl, duke and king. This famous livery\ncollar, which has never passed out of use, takes many forms, its Esses\nbeing sometimes linked together chainwise, and sometimes, in early\nexamples, bestowed as the ornamental bosses of a garter-shaped\nstrap-collar. The oldest effigy bearing it is that in Spratton church of\nSir John Swinford, who died in 1371. Swinford was a follower of John of\nGaunt, and the date of his death easily disposes of the fancy that the\nEsses were devised by Henry IV. to stand for his motto or \"word\" of\n_Soverayne_. Many explanations are given of the origin of these letters,\nbut none has as yet been established with sufficient proof. During the\nreigns of Henry IV., his son and grandson, the collar of Esses was a\nroyal badge of the Lancastrian house and party, the white swan being its\npendant. In one of Henry VI.'s own collars the S was joined to the\nBroomcod of the French device, thus symbolizing the king's claim to the\ntwo kingdoms.\n\nThe kings of the house of York and their chief followers wore the\nYorkist collar of suns and roses, with the white lion of March, the\nClare bull, or Richard's white boar for a pendant device. Henry VII.\nbrought back the collar of Esses, a portcullis or a rose hanging from\nit, although in a portrait of this king, now possessed by the Society of\nAntiquaries, his neck bears the _rose en soleil_ alternating with knots,\nand his son, when young, had a collar of roses red and white. Besides\nthese royal collars, the 14th and 15th centuries show many of private\ndevices. A brass at Mildenhall shows a knight whose badge of a dog or\nwolf circled by a crown hangs from a collar with edges suggesting a\npruned bough or the ragged staff. Thomas of Markenfield (d. c. 1415) on\nhis brass at Ripon has a strange collar of park palings with a badge of\na hart in a park, and the Lord Berkeley (d. 1392) wears one set with\nmermaids.\n\nCollars of various devices are now worn by the grand crosses of the\nEuropean orders of knighthood. The custom was begun by Philip of\nBurgundy, who gave his knights of the Golden Fleece, an order founded on\nthe 10th of February 1429-1430, badges of a golden fleece hung from that\ncollar of flints, steels and sparks which is seen in so many old Flemish\nportraits. To this day it remains the most beautiful of all the collars,\nkeeping in the main the lines of its Flemish designer, although a vulgar\nfancy sometimes destroys the symbolism of the golden fleece by changing\nit for an unmeaning fleece of diamonds. Following this new fashion,\nLouis XI. of France, when instituting his order of St Michael in 1469,\ngave the knights collars of scallop shells linked on a chain. The chain\nwas doubled by Charles VIII., and the pattern suffered other changes\nbefore the order lapsed in 1830. Until the reign of Henry VIII., the\nGarter, most ancient of the great knightly orders, had no collar. But\nthe Tudor king must needs match in all things with continental\nsovereigns, and the present collar of the Garter knights, with its\ngolden knots and its buckled garters enclosing white roses set on red\nroses, has its origin in the Tudor age. An illustration in colours of\nthe Garter collar is given on Plate I. in the article KNIGHTHOOD AND\nCHIVALRY, while descriptions of the collars of the other principal\norders are also given. The collar of the Thistle with the thistles and\nrue-sprigs is as old as the reign of James II. The Bath collar, in its\nfirst form of white knots linking closed crowns to roses and thistles\nissuing from sceptres, dates from 1725, up to which time the knights of\nthe Bath had hung their medallion from a ribbon.\n\nFounding the order of the Saint Esprit in 1578, Henry III. of France\ndevised a collar of enflamed fleur-de-lis and cyphers of H and L, a\nfashion which was soon afterwards varied by Henry his successor.\nElephants have been always borne on the collar of the Elephant founded\nin Denmark in 1478, the other links of which have taken many shapes.\nAnother Danish order, the Dannebrog, said to be \"re-instituted\" by\nChristian V. in 1671, has a collar of crosses formy alternating with the\ncrowned letters C and W, the latter standing for Waldemar the\nVictorious, whom a legend of no value described as founding the order in\n1219. Of other European orders, that of St Andrew, founded by Peter of\nRussia in 1698, has eagles and Andrew crosses and cyphers, while the\nBlack Eagle of Prussia has the Prussian eagle with thunderbolts in its\nclaws beside roundels charged with cyphers of the letters F.R.\n\nPlain collars of Esses are now worn in the United Kingdom by\nkings-of-arms, heralds and serjeants-at-arms. Certain legal dignitaries\nhave worn them since the 16th century, the collar of the lord\nchief-justice having knots and roses between the letters. Henry IV.'s\nparliament in his second year restricted the free use of the king's\nlivery collar to his sons and to all dukes, earls, barons and bannerets,\nwhile simple knights and squires might use it when in the royal presence\nor in going to and from the hostel of the king. The giving of a livery\ncollar by the king made a squire of a man even as the stroke of the\nroyal sword made him a knight. Collars of Esses are sometimes seen on\nthe necks of ladies. The queen of Henry IV. wears one. So do the wife of\na 16th century Knightley on her tomb at Upton, and Penelope, Lady\nSpencer (d. 1667), on her Brington monument.\n\nSince 1545 the lord mayor of London has worn a royal livery collar of\nEsses. This collar, however, has its origin in no royal favour, Sir John\nAlen, thrice a lord mayor, having bequeathed it to the then lord mayor\nand his successors \"to use and occupie yerely at and uppon principall\nand festivall dayes.\" It was enlarged in 1567, and in its present shape\nhas 28 Esses alternating with knots and roses and joined with a\nportcullis. Lord mayors of York use a plain gold chain of a triple row\nof links given in 1670; this chain, since the day when certain links\nwere found wanting, is weighed on its return by the outgoing mayor. In\nIreland the lord mayor of Dublin wears a collar given by Charles II.,\nwhile Cork's mayor has another which the Cork council bought of a\nsilversmith in 1755, stipulating that it should be like the Dublin one.\nThe lady mayoress of York wears a plain chain given with that of the\nlord mayor in 1670, and, like his, weighed on its return to official\nkeeping. For some two hundred and thirty years the mayoress of\nKingston-on-Hull enjoyed a like ornament until a thrifty council in 1835\nsold her chain as a useless thing.\n\nOf late years municipal patriotism and the persuasions of enterprising\ntradesmen have notably increased the number of English provincial mayors\nwearing collars or chains of office. Unlike civic maces, swords and caps\nof maintenance, these gauds are without significance. The mayor of Derby\nis decorated with the collar once borne by a lord chief-justice of the\nking's bench, and his brother of Kingston-on-Thames uses without\nauthority an old collar of Esses which once hung over a herald's tabard.\nBy a modern custom the friends of the London sheriffs now give them\ncollars of gold and enamel, which they retain as mementoes of their year\nof office.     (O. BA.)\n\n\n\n\nCOLLATERAL (from Med. Lat. _collateralis_,--_cum_, with, and _latus_,\n_lateris_, side,--side by side, hence parallel or additional), a term\nused in law in several senses. _Collateral relationship_ means the\nrelationship between persons who are descended from the same stock or\nancestor, but in a different line; as opposed to _lineal_, which is the\nrelationship between ascendants and descendants in a direct line, as\nbetween father and son, grandfather and grandson. A _collateral\nagreement_ is an agreement made contemporaneously with a written\ncontract as part of the transaction, but without being incorporated with\nit. _Collateral facts_, in evidence, are those facts which do not bear\ndirectly on the matters in dispute. _Collateral security_ is an\nadditional security for the better safety of the mortgagee, i.e.\nproperty or right of action deposited to secure the fulfilment of an\nobligation.\n\n\n\n\nCOLLATIA, an ancient town of Latium, 10 m. E. by N. of Rome by the Via\nCollatina. It appears in the legendary history of Rome as captured by\nTarquinius Priscus. Livy tells us it was taken from the Sabines, while\nVirgil speaks of it as a Latin colony. In the time of Cicero it had lost\nall importance; Strabo names it as a mere village, in private hands,\nwhile for Pliny it was one of the lost cities of Latium. The site is\nundoubtedly to be sought on the hill now occupied by the large medieval\nfortified farmhouse of Lunghezza, immediately to the south of the Anio,\nwhich occupies the site of the citadel joined by a narrow neck to the\ntableland to the south-east on which the city stood: this is protected\nby wide valleys on each side, and is isolated at the south-east end by a\ndeep narrow valley enlarged by cutting. No remains are to be seen, but\nthe site is admirably adapted for an ancient settlement. The road may be\ntraced leading to the south end of this tableland, being identical with\nthe modern road to Lunghezza for the middle part of its course only.\nThe current indentification with Castellaccio, 2 m. to the south-east,\nis untenable.\n\n  See T. Ashby in _Papers of the British School at Rome_, i. 138 seq.,\n  iii. 201.     (T. AS.)\n\n\n\n\nCOLLATION (Lat. _collatio_, from _conferre_, to bring together or\ncompare), the bringing together of things for the special purpose of\ncomparison, and thus, particularly, the critical examination of the\ntexts of documents or MSS. and the result of such comparison. The word\nis also a term in printing and bookbinding for the register of the\n\"signatures,\" the number of quires and leaves in each quire of a book or\nMS. In Roman and Scots law \"collation\" answers to the English law term\n\"hotch-pot\" (q.v.). From another meaning of the Latin word, a\nconsultation or conference, and so a treatise or homily, comes the title\nof a work of Johannes Cassianus (q.v.), the _Conferences of the Fathers_\n(_Collationes Patrum_). Readings from this and similar works were\ncustomary in monasteries; by the _regula_ of St Benedict it is ordered\nthat on rising from supper there should be read _collationes_, passages\nfrom the lives of the Fathers and other edifying works; the word is then\napplied to the discussions arising from such readings. On fast days it\nwas usual in monasteries to have a very light meal after the _Collatio_,\nand hence the meal itself came to be called \"collation,\" a meaning which\nsurvives in the modern use of the word for any light or quickly prepared\nrepast.\n\n\n\n\nCOLLE, CHARLES (1709-1783), French dramatist and song-writer, the son of\na notary, was born at Paris in 1709. He was early interested in the\nrhymes of Jean Heguanier, then the most famous maker of couplets in\nParis. From a notary's office Colle was transferred to that of M. de\nNeulan, the receiver-general of finance, and remained there for nearly\ntwenty years. When about seventeen, however, he made the acquaintance of\nAlexis Piron, and afterwards, through Gallet (d. 1757), of Panard. The\nexample of these three masters of the vaudeville, while determining his\nvocation, made him diffident; and for some time he composed nothing but\n_amphigouris_--verses whose merit was measured by their\nunintelligibility. The friendship of the younger Crebillon, however,\ndiverted him from this by-way of art, and the establishment in 1729 of\nthe famous \"Caveau\" gave him a field for the display of his fine talent\nfor popular song. In 1739 the Society of the Caveau, which numbered\namong its members Helvetius, Charles Duclos, Pierre Joseph Bernard,\ncalled Gentil-Bernard, Jean Philippe Rameau, Alexis Piron, and the two\nCrebillons, was dissolved, and was not reconstituted till twenty years\nafterwards. His first and his best comedy, _La Verite dans le vin_,\nappeared in 1747. Meanwhile, the Regent Orleans, who was an excellent\ncomic actor, particularly in representations of low life, and had been\nlooking out for an author to write suitable parts for him, made Colle\nhis reader. It was for the duke and his associates that Colle composed\nthe greater part of his _Theatre de societe_. In 1763 Colle produced at\nthe Theatre Francais _Dupuis et Desronais_, a successful sentimental\ncomedy, which was followed in 1771 by _La Veuve_, which was a complete\nfailure. In 1774 appeared _La Partie de chasse de Henri Quatre_ (partly\ntaken from Dodsley's _King and the Miller of Mansfield_), Colle's last\nand best play. From 1748 to 1772, besides these and a multitude of\nsongs, Colle was writing his _Journal_, a curious collection of literary\nand personal strictures on his boon companions as well as on their\nenemies, on Piron as on Voltaire, on La Harpe as on Corneille. Colle\ndied on the 3rd of November 1783. His lyrics are frank and jovial,\nthough often licentious. The subjects are love and wine; occasionally,\nhowever, as in the famous lyric (1756) on the capture of Port Mahon, for\nwhich the author received a pension of 600 livres, the note of\npatriotism is struck with no unskilful hand, while in many others Colle\nshows himself possessed of considerable epigrammatic force.\n\n  See also H. Bonhomme's edition (1868) of his _Journal et Memoires_\n  (1748-1772); Grimm's _Correspondance_; and C. A. Sainte-Beuve,\n  _Nouveaux lundis_, vol. vii.\n\n\n\n\nCOLLECTIVISM, a term used to denote the economic principle of the\nownership by a community of all the means of production in order to\nsecure to the people collectively an equitable distribution of the\nproduce of their associated labour. Though often used in a narrow sense\nto express the economic basis of Socialism, the latter term is so\ngenerally employed in the same sense that collectivism is best discussed\nin connexion with it (see SOCIALISM).\n\n\n\n\nCOLLECTOR, a term technically used for various officials, and\nparticularly in India for the chief administrative official of a\ndistrict. The word was in this case originally a translation of\n_tahsildar_, and indicates that the special duty of the office is the\ncollection of revenue; but the collector has also magisterial powers and\nis a species of autocrat within the bounds of his district. The title is\nconfined to the regulation provinces, especially Madras; in the\nnon-regulation provinces the same duties are discharged by the\ndeputy-commissioner (see COMMISSIONER).\n\n\n\n\nCOLLE DI VAL D' ELSA, a town and episcopal see of Italy, in the province\nof Siena, 5 m. by rail S. of Poggibonsi, which is 16 m. N.W. of Siena.\nPop. (1901) town 1987; commune 9879. The old (upper) town (732 ft. above\nsea-level), contains the cathedral, dating from the 13th century, with a\npulpit partly of this period; the facade has been modernized. There are\nalso some old palaces of good architecture, and the old house where\nArnolfo di Cambio, the first architect of the cathedral at Florence\n(1232-1301) was born. The lower town (460 ft.) contains glass-works; the\npaper and iron industries (the former as old as 1377) are less\nimportant.\n\n\n\n\nCOLLEGE (_Collegium_), in Roman law, a number of persons associated\ntogether by the possession of common functions,--a body of colleagues.\nIts later meaning applied to any union of persons, and _collegium_ was\nthe equivalent of [Greek: hetaireia]. In many respects, e.g. in the\ndistinction between the responsibilities and rights of the society and\nthose of individual members thereof, the collegium was what we should\nnow call a corporation (q.v.). Collegia might exist for purposes of\ntrade like the English gilds, or for religious purposes (e.g. the\ncollege of augurs, of pontifices, &c.), or for political purposes, e.g.\n_tribunorum plebis collegia_. By the Roman law a collegium must have at\nleast three members. The name is now usually applied to educational\ncorporations, such as the colleges of Oxford and Cambridge, with which,\nin the numerous English statutes relating to colleges, the colleges of\nWinchester and Eton are usually associated. These colleges are in the\neye of the law eleemosynary corporations. In some of the earlier\nstatutes of Queen Elizabeth they are spoken of as having an\necclesiastical character, but the doctrine of the common law since the\nReformation has been that they are purely lay corporations,\nnotwithstanding that most or all of their members may be persons in\npriest's orders. This is said to have been settled by Dr Patrick's case\n(_Raymond's Reports_, p. 101).\n\nColleges appear to have grown out of the voluntary association of\nstudents and teachers at the university. According to some accounts\nthese must at one time have been numerous and flourishing beyond\nanything we are now acquainted with. We are told, for example, of 300\nhalls or societies at Oxford, and 30,000 students. In early times there\nseems to have been a strong desire to confine the scholars to certain\nlicensed houses beyond the influence of the townspeople. Men of wealth\nand culture, and notably the political bishops and chancellors of\nEngland, obtained charters from the crown for the incorporation of\nsocieties of scholars, and these in time became exclusively the places\nof abode for students attending the university. At the same time the\ncorporations thus founded were not necessarily attached to the locality\nof the university. The early statutes of Merton College, for example,\nallow the residence of the college to be shifted as occasion required;\nand the foundations of Wolsey at Oxford and Ipswich seem to have been\nthe same in intention. In later times (until the introduction of\nnon-collegiate students) the university and the colleges became\ncoextensive; every member of the university had to attach himself to\nsome college or hall, and every person admitted to a college or hall was\nobliged to matriculate himself in the university.\n\nIn Ayliffe's _Ancient and Present State of the University of Oxford_ it\nis stated that a college must be \"made up of three persons (at least)\njoined in community. And the reason of this almost seems to speak its\nown necessity, without the help of any express law to countenance it:\nbecause among two persons only there cannot be, in fact, a major part;\nand then if any disagreement should happen to arise between them it\ncannot be, in fact, brought to a conclusion by such a number alone in\ncase both the parties should firmly adhere to their dissenting opinions;\nand thus it is declared by the civil law. But by the canon law it is\nknown to be otherwise; for by that law two persons in number may make\nand constitute a college, forasmuch as according to this law two persons\nmake and constitute an assembly or congregation. The common law of\nEngland, or rather the constant usage of our princes in erecting\naggregate bodies, which has established this rule among us as a law, has\nbeen herein agreeable to the method and doctrine of the civil law, for\nthat in all their grants and charters of incorporation of colleges they\nhave not framed any aggregate body consisting of less than three in\nnumber.\" Another principle, apparently derived from the civil law, is\nthat a man cannot be a fellow in two colleges at the same time. The law\nof England steadily resisted any attempt to introduce the principle of\ninequality into colleges. An act of 1542, reciting that divers founders\nof colleges have given in their statutes a power of veto to individual\nmembers, enacts that every statute made by any such founder, whereby the\ngrant or election of the governor or ruler with the assent of the most\npart of such corporation should be in any wise hindered by any one or\nmore being the lesser number (contrary to the common law), shall be\nvoid.\n\nThe corporation consists of a head or master, fellows and scholars.\nStudents, not being on the foundation, residing in the college, are not\nconsidered to be members of the corporation. The governing body in all\ncases is the head and fellows.\n\nIt is considered essential to corporations of an ecclesiastical or\neducational character that they should have a Visitor whose duty it is\nto see that the statutes of the founder are obeyed. The duties of this\nofficer have been ascertained by the courts of law in a great variety of\ndecided cases. Subject to such restrictions as may be imposed on him by\nthe statutes of the college, his duties are generally to interpret the\nstatutes of the college in disputed cases, and to enforce them where\nthey have been violated. For this purpose he is empowered to \"visit\" the\nsociety--usually at certain stated intervals. In questions within his\njurisdiction his judgment is conclusive, but his jurisdiction does not\nextend to any cases under the common laws of the country, or to trusts\nattached to the college. Generally the visitorship resides in the\nfounder and his heirs unless he has otherwise appointed, and in default\nof him in the crown.\n\nThe fellowships, scholarships, &c., of colleges were until a\ncomparatively recent date subject to various restrictions. Birth in a\nparticular county, education at a particular school, relationship to the\nfounder and holy orders, are amongst the most usual of the conditions\ngiving a preferential or conclusive claim to the emoluments. Most of\nthese restrictions have been or are being swept away. (See UNIVERSITIES;\nOXFORD; CAMBRIDGE; &C.)\n\nThe term \"college\" (like \"academy\") is also applied to various\ninstitutions, e.g. to colleges of physicians and surgeons, and to the\nelectoral college in the United States presidential elections, &c. For\nthe Sacred College see CARDINAL.\n\n\n\n\nCOLLEONI, BARTOLOMMEO (1400-1475), Italian soldier of fortune, was born\nat Bergamo. While he was still a child his father was attacked and\nmurdered in his castle of Trezzo by Filippo Maria Visconti, duke of\nMilan. After wandering about Italy he entered the service of various\n_condottieri_, such as Braccio da Montone and Carmagnola. At the age of\nthirty-two he was serving the Venetian republic, and although Francesco\nMaria Gonzaga was commander-in-chief, Colleoni was the life and soul of\nthe army. He recaptured many towns and districts for Venice from the\nMilanese, and when Gonzaga went over to the enemy he continued to serve\nthe Venetians under Erasmo da Narni (known as Gattamelata) and Francesco\nA. Sforza, winning battles at Brescia, Verona and on the lake of Garda.\nWhen peace was made between Milan and Venice in 1441 Colleoni went over\nto the Milanese, together with Sforza in 1443. But although well\ntreated at first, he soon fell under the suspicion of the treacherous\nVisconti and was imprisoned at Monza, where he remained until the duke's\ndeath in 1447. Milan then fell under the lordship of Sforza, whom\nColleoni served for a time, but in 1448 he took leave of Sforza and\nreturned to the Venetians. Disgusted at not having been elected\ncaptain-general, he went over to Sforza once more, but Venice could not\ndo without him and by offering him increased emoluments induced him to\nreturn, and in 1455 he was appointed captain-general of the republic for\nlife. Although he occasionally fought on his own account, when Venice\nwas at peace, he remained at the disposal of the republic in time of war\nuntil his death.\n\nColleoni was perhaps the most respectable of all the Italian\n_condottieri_, and although he often changed sides, no act of treachery\nis imputed to him, nor did he subject the territories he passed through\nto the rapine and exactions practised by other soldiers of fortune. When\nnot fighting he devoted his time to introducing agricultural\nimprovements on the vast estates with which the Venetians had endowed\nhim, and to charitable works. At his death in 1475 he left a large sum\nto the republic for the Turkish war, with a request that an equestrian\nstatue of himself should be erected in the Piazza San Marco. The statue\nwas made by Verrocchio, but as no monument was permitted in the famous\nPiazza it was placed opposite the hospital of St Mark by way of\ncompromise.\n\n  See G. M. Bonomi, _Il Castello di Cavernago e i conti Martinengo\n  Colleoni_ (Bergamo, 1884); for an account of his wars see S. Romanin,\n  _Storia documentata di Venezia_, vol. iv. (Venice, 1855), and other\n  histories of Venice.     (L. V.*)\n\n\n\n\nCOLLETER (Gr. [Greek: kollos], glue), a botanical term for the\ngum-secreting hairs on the buds of certain plants.\n\n\n\n\nCOLLETTA, PIETRO (1775-1831), Neapolitan general and historian, entered\nthe Neapolitan artillery in 1796 and took part in the campaign against\nthe French in 1798. On the entry of the French into Naples and the\nestablishment of the Parthenopean republic (1799) he adhered to the new\ngovernment, and when the Bourbon king Ferdinand IV. (q.v.) reconquered\nthe city Colletta was thrown into prison and only escaped the death\npenalty by means of judiciously administered bribes. Turned out of the\narmy he became a civil engineer, but when the Bourbons were expelled a\nsecond time in 1806 and Joseph Bonaparte seized the throne of Naples, he\nwas reinstated in his rank and served in the expedition against the\nbrigands and rebels of Calabria. In 1812 he was promoted general, and\nmade director of roads and bridges. He served under Joachim Murat and\nfought the Austrians on the Panaro in 1815. On the restoration of\nFerdinand Colletta was permitted to retain his rank in the army, and\ngiven command of the Salerno division. At the outbreak of the revolution\nof 1820 the king called him to his councils, and when the constitution\nhad been granted Colletta was sent to put down the separatist rising in\nSicily, which he did with great severity. He fought in the\nconstitutionalist army against the Austrians at Rieti (7th of March\n1821), and on the re-establishment of autocracy he was arrested and\nimprisoned for three months by order of the prince of Canosa, the chief\nof police, his particular enemy. He would have been executed had not the\nAustrians intervened in his favour, and he was exiled instead to Brunn\nin Moravia; in 1823 he was permitted to settle in Florence, where he\nspent the rest of his days engaged on his _Storia del reame di Napoli_.\nHe died in 1831. His history (1st ed., Capolago, 1834), which deals with\nthe reigns of Charles III. and Ferdinand IV. (1734-1825), is still the\nstandard work for that period; but its value is somewhat diminished by\nthe author's bitterness against his opponents and the fact that he does\nnot give chapter and verse for his statements, many of which are based\non his recollection of documents seen, but not available at the time of\nwriting. Still, having been an actor in many of the events recorded, he\nis on the whole accurate and trustworthy.\n\n  See Gino Capponi's memoir of him published in the _Storia del reame di\n  Napoli_ (2nd ed., Florence, 1848).     (L. V.*)\n\n\n\n\nCOLLEY, SIR GEORGE POMEROY (1835-1881), British general, third son of\nGeorge Pomeroy Colley, of Rathangan, Co. Kildare, Ireland, and grandson\nof the fourth Viscount Harberton, was born on the 1st of November 1835,\nand entered the 2nd Queen's Regiment from Sandhurst as ensign in 1852.\nFrom 1854 to 1860 he served in South Africa, and was employed in\nsurveying and as a magistrate in charge of the Bashi river district in\nKaffraria. Early in 1860 he went with his regiment to China to join the\nAnglo-French expedition, and took part in the capture of the Taku forts\nand the entry into Peking, returning to South Africa to complete his\nwork in Kaffraria (brevet-majority). In 1862 he entered the Staff\nCollege and passed out in one year with honours. After serving as\nbrigade-major at Devonport for five years, he went to the War Office in\n1870 to assist in the preparation of (Lord) Cardwell's measures of army\nreform. He was appointed professor of military administration at the\nStaff College in 1871. Early in 1873 he joined Sir Garnet Wolseley at\nthe Gold Coast, where he took charge of the transport, and the success\nof the Ashanti expedition was in no small degree due to his exertions.\nHe was promoted brevet-colonel and awarded the C.B. In 1875 he\naccompanied Wolseley to Natal (C.M.G.). On his return home he was\nappointed military secretary to Lord Lytton, governor-general of India,\nand in 1877 private secretary (K.C.S.I.). In 1879 he joined Wolseley as\nchief of the staff and brigadier-general in S.E. Africa, but, on the\nmurder of Cavagnari at Kabul, returned to India. In 1880 he succeeded\nWolseley in S.E. Africa as high commissioner and general commanding, and\nconducted the operations against the rebel Boers. He was defeated at\nLaing's Nek and at the Ingogo river, and killed at Majuba Hill on the\n27th of February 1881. He had a very high reputation not only for a\ntheoretical knowledge of military affairs, but also as a practical\nsoldier.\n\n  See _Life of Sir George Pomeroy Colley_ by Lieut.-Gen. Sir W. F.\n  Butler (London, 1899).\n\n\n\n\nCOLLIER, ARTHUR (1680-1732), English philosopher, was born at the\nrectory of Steeple Langford, Wiltshire, on the 12th of October 1680. He\nentered at Pembroke College, Oxford, in July 1697, but in October 1698\nhe and his brother William became members of Balliol. His father having\ndied in 1697, it was arranged that the family living of Langford Magna\nshould be given to Arthur as soon as he was old enough. He was presented\nto the benefice in 1704, and held it till his death. His sermons show no\ntraces of his bold theological speculations, and he seems to have been\nfaithful in the discharge of his duty. He was often in pecuniary\ndifficulties, from which at last he was obliged to free himself by\nselling the reversion of Langford rectory to Corpus Christi College,\nOxford. His philosophical opinions grew out of a diligent study of\nDescartes and Malebranche. John Norris of Bemerton also strongly\ninfluenced him by his _Essay on the Ideal World_ (1701-1704). It is\nremarkable that Collier makes no reference to Locke, and shows no sign\nof having any knowledge of his works. As early as 1703 he seems to have\nbecome convinced of the non-existence of an external world. In 1712 he\nwrote two essays, which are still in manuscript, one on substance and\naccident, and the other called _Clavis Philosophica_. His chief work\nappeared in 1713, under the title _Clavis Universalis_, or a _New\nInquiry after Truth_, being a _Demonstration of the Non-Existence or\nImpossibility of an External World_ (printed privately, Edinburgh, 1836,\nand reprinted in _Metaphysical Tracts_, 1837, edited by Sam. Parr). It\nwas favourably mentioned by Reid, Stewart and others, was frequently\nreferred to by the Leibnitzians, and was translated into German by von\nEschenbach in 1756. Berkeley's _Principles of Knowledge_ and _Theory of\nVision_ preceded it by three and four years respectively, but there is\nno evidence that they were known to Collier before the publication of\nhis book.\n\n  His views are grounded on two presuppositions:--first, the utter\n  aversion of common sense to any theory of representative perception;\n  second, the opinion which Collier held in common with Berkeley, and\n  Hume afterwards, that the difference between imagination and sense\n  perception is only one of degree. The former is the basis of the\n  negative part of his argument; the latter supplies him with all the\n  positive account he has to give, and that is meagre enough. The\n  _Clavis_ consists of two parts. After explaining that he will use the\n  term \"external world\" in the sense of absolute, self-existent,\n  independent matter, he attempts in the first part to prove that the\n  visible world is not external, by showing--first, that the seeming\n  externality of a visible object is no proof of real externality, and\n  second, that a visible object, as such, is not external. The image of\n  a centaur seems as much external to the mind as any object of sense;\n  and since the difference between imagination and perception is only\n  one of degree, God could so act upon the mind of a person imagining a\n  centaur, that he would perceive it as vividly as any object can be\n  seen. Similar illustrations are used to prove the second proposition,\n  that a visible object, as such, is not external. The first part ends\n  with a reply to objections based on the universal consent of men, on\n  the assurance given by touch of the extra existence of the visible\n  world, and on the truth and goodness of God (Descartes), which would\n  be impugned if our senses deceived us. Collier argues naively that if\n  universal consent means the consent of those who have considered the\n  subject, it may be claimed for his view. He thinks with Berkeley that\n  objects of sight are quite distinct from those of touch, and that the\n  one therefore cannot give any assurance of the other; and he asks the\n  Cartesians to consider how far God's truth and goodness are called in\n  question by their denial of the externality of the secondary\n  qualities. The second part of the book is taken up with a number of\n  metaphysical arguments to prove the impossibility of an external\n  world. The pivot of this part is the logical principle of\n  contradiction. From the hypothesis of an external world a series of\n  contradictions are deduced, such as that the world is both finite and\n  infinite, is movable and immovable, &c.; and finally, Aristotle and\n  various other philosophers are quoted, to show that the external\n  matter they dealt with, as mere potentiality, is just nothing at all.\n  Among other uses and consequences of his treatise, Collier thinks it\n  furnishes an easy refutation of the Romish doctrine of\n  transubstantiation. If there is no external world, the distinction\n  between substance and accidents vanishes, and these become the sole\n  essence of material objects, so that there is no room for any change\n  whilst they remain as before. Sir William Hamilton thinks that the\n  logically necessary advance from the old theory of representative\n  perception to idealism was stayed by anxiety to save this miracle of\n  the church; and he gives Collier credit for being the first to make\n  the discovery.\n\n  His _Clavis Universalis_ is interesting on account of the resemblance\n  between its views and those of Berkeley. Both were moved by their\n  dissatisfaction with the theory of representative perception. Both\n  have the feeling that it is inconsistent with the common sense of\n  mankind, which will insist that the very object perceived is the sole\n  reality. They equally affirm that the so-called representative image\n  is the sole reality, and discard as unthinkable the unperceiving\n  material cause of the philosophers. Of objects of sense, they say,\n  their _esse_ is _percipi_. But Collier never got beyond a bald\n  assertion of the fact, while Berkeley addressed himself to an\n  explanation of it. The thought of a distinction between direct and\n  indirect perception never dawned upon Collier. To the question how all\n  matter exists in dependence on percipient mind his only reply is,\n  \"Just how my reader pleases, provided it be somehow.\" As cause of our\n  sensations and ground of our belief in externality, he substituted for\n  an unintelligible material substance an equally unintelligible\n  operation of divine power. His book exhibits no traces of a scientific\n  development. The most that can be said about him is that he was an\n  intelligent student of Descartes and Malebranche, and had the ability\n  to apply the results of his reading to the facts of his experience. In\n  philosophy he is a curiosity, and nothing more. His biographer\n  attributes the comparative failure of the _Clavis_ to its inferiority\n  in point of style, but the crudeness of his thought had quite as much\n  to do with his failure to gain a hearing. Hamilton (_Discussions_, p.\n  197) allows greater sagacity to Collier than to Berkeley, on the\n  ground that he did not vainly attempt to enlist men's natural belief\n  against the hypothetical realism of the philosophers. But Collier did\n  so as far as his light enabled him. He appealed to the popular\n  conviction that the proper object of sense is the sole reality,\n  although he despaired of getting men to give up their belief in its\n  externality, and asserted that nothing but prejudice prevented them\n  from doing so; and there is little doubt that, if it had ever occurred\n  to him, as it did to Berkeley, to explain the genesis of the notion of\n  externality, he would have been more hopeful of commending his theory\n  to the popular mind.\n\n  In theology Collier was an adherent of the High Church party, though\n  his views were by no means orthodox. In the Jacobite _Mist's Journal_\n  he attacked Bishop Hoadly's defence of sincere errors. His views on\n  the problems of Arianism, and his attempt to reconcile it with\n  orthodox theology, are contained in _A Specimen of True Philosophy_\n  (1730, reprinted in _Metaphysical Tracts_, 1837) and _Logology, or a\n  Treatise on the Logos in Seven Sermons on John i. 1, 2, 3, 14_ (1732,\n  analysed in _Metaph. Tracts_). These may be compared with Berkeley's\n  _Siris_.\n\n  See Robt. Benson, _Memoirs of the Life and Writings of Arthur Collier_\n  (1837); Tennemann, _History of Philosophy_; Hamilton, _Discussions_;\n  A. C. Fraser, edition of _Berkeley's Works_; G. Lyon, \"Un Idealiste\n  anglais au XVIII. siecle,\" in _Rev. philos._ (1880), x. 375.\n\n\n\n\nCOLLIER, JEREMY (1650-1726), English nonjuring divine, was born at\nStow-with-Quy, Cambridgeshire, on the 23rd of September 1650. He was\neducated at Ipswich free school, over which his father presided, and at\nCaius College, Cambridge, graduating B.A. in 1673 and M.A. in 1676. He\nacted for a short time as a private chaplain, but was appointed in 1679\nto the small rectory of Ampton, near Bury St Edmunds, and in 1685 he was\nmade lecturer of Gray's Inn.\n\nAt the Revolution he was committed to Newgate for writing in favour of\nJames II. a tract entitled _The Desertion discuss'd in a Letter to a\nCountry Gentleman_ (1688), in answer to Bishop Burnet's defence of King\nWilliam's position. He was released after some months of imprisonment,\nwithout trial, by the intervention of his friends. In the two following\nyears he continued to harass the government by his publications: and in\n1692 he was again in prison under suspicion of treasonable\ncorrespondence with James. His scruples forbade him to acknowledge the\njurisdiction of the court by accepting bail, but he was soon released.\nBut in 1696 for his boldness in granting absolution on the scaffold to\nSir John Friend and Sir William Parkyns, who had attempted the\nassassination of William, he was obliged to flee, and for the rest of\nhis life continued under sentence of outlawry.\n\nWhen the storm had blown over he returned to London, and employed his\nleisure in works which were less political in their tone. In 1697\nappeared the first volume of his _Essays on Several Moral Subjects_, to\nwhich a second was added in 1705, and a third in 1709. The first series\ncontained six essays, the most notable being that \"On the office of a\nChaplain,\" which throws much light on the position of a large section of\nthe clergy at that time. Collier deprecated the extent of the authority\nassumed by the patron and the servility of the poorer clergy.\n\nIn 1698 Collier produced his famous _Short View of the Immorality and\nProfaneness of the English Stage..._. He dealt with the immodesty of the\ncontemporary stage, supporting his contentions by a long series of\nreferences attesting the comparative decency of Latin and Greek drama;\nwith the profane language indulged in by the players; the abuse of the\nclergy common in the drama; the encouragement of vice by representing\nthe vicious characters as admirable and successful; and finally he\nsupported his general position by the analysis of particular plays,\nDryden's _Amphitryon_, Vanbrugh's _Relapse_ and D'Urfey's _Don Quixote_.\nThe Book abounds in hypercriticism, particularly in the imputation of\nprofanity; and in a useless display of learning, neither intrinsically\nvaluable nor conducive to the argument. He had no artistic appreciation\nof the subject he discussed, and he mistook cause for effect in\nasserting that the decline in public morality was due to the flagrant\nindecency of the stage. Yet, in the words of Macaulay, who gives an\nadmirable account of the discussion in his essay on the comic dramatists\nof the Restoration, \"when all deductions have been made, great merit\nmust be allowed to the work.\" Dryden acknowledged, in the preface to his\n_Fables_, the justice of Collier's strictures, though he protested\nagainst the manner of the onslaught;[1] but Congreve made an angry\nreply; Vanbrugh and others followed. Collier was prepared to meet any\nnumber of antagonists, and defended himself in numerous tracts. _The\nShort View_ was followed by a _Defence_ (1699), a _Second Defence_\n(1700), and _Mr Collier's Dissuasive from the Playhouse, in a Letter to\na Person of Quality_ (1703), and a _Further Vindication_ (1708). The\nfight lasted in all some ten years; but Collier had right on his side,\nand triumphed; his position was, moreover, strengthened by the fact that\nhe was known as a Troy and high churchman, and that his attack could\nnot, therefore, be assigned to Puritan rancour against the stage.\n\nFrom 1701 to 1721 Collier was employed on his _Great Historical,\nGeographical, Genealogical and Poetical Dictionary_, founded on, and\npartly translated from, Louis Moreri's _Dictionnaire historique_, and in\nthe compilation and issue of the two volumes folio of his own\n_Ecclesiastical History of Great Britain from the first planting of\nChristianity to the end of the reign of Charles II_. (1708-1714). The\nlatter work was attacked by Burnet and others, but the author showed\nhimself as keen a controversialist as ever. Many attempts were made to\nshake his fidelity to the lost cause of the Stuarts, but he continued\nindomitable to the end. In 1712 George Hickes was the only survivor of\nthe nonjuring bishops, and in the next year Collier was consecrated. He\nhad a share in an attempt made towards union with the Greek Church. He\nhad a long correspondence with the Eastern authorities, his last letters\non the subject being written in 1725. Collier preferred the version of\nthe _Book of Common Prayer_ issued in 1549, and regretted that certain\npractices and petitions there enjoined were omitted in later editions.\nHis first tract on the subject, _Reasons for Restoring some Prayers_\n(1717), was followed by others. In 1718 was published a new _Communion\nOffice taken partly from Primitive Liturgies and partly from the first\nEnglish Reformed Common Prayer Book,..._ which embodied the changes\ndesired by Collier. The controversy that ensued made a split in the\nnonjuring communion. His last work was a volume of _Practical\nDiscourses_, published in 1725. He died on the 26th of April 1726.\n\n  BIBLIOGRAPHY.--There is an excellent account of Collier in A. Kippis's\n  _Biographia Britannica_, vol. iv. (1789), where some sensible\n  observations by the editor are added to the original biography. A full\n  list of Collier's writings is given by the Rev. Wm. Hunt in the\n  article in the _Dictionary of National Biography_. For particulars of\n  Collier's history as a nonjuring bishop, see Thomas Lathbury, _A\n  History of the Nonjurors ..._ (1845). There is an excellent account of\n  the _Short View_ and the controversy arising from it in A. Beljame's\n  _Le Public et les hommes de lettres en Angleterre au XVIIIe siecle_\n  (2nd ed., 1897), pp. 244-263.\n\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n  [1] \"He is too much given to horse-play in his raillery, and comes to\n    battle like a dictator from the plough. I will not say, 'the zeal of\n    God's house has eaten him up'; but I am sure it has devoured some\n    part of his good manners and civility.\" (Dryden, _Works_, ed. Scott,\n    xi. 239).\n\n\n\n\nCOLLIER, JOHN PAYNE (1789-1883), English Shakespearian critic, was born\nin London, on the 11th of January 1789. His father, John Dyer Collier\n(1762-1825), was a successful journalist, and his connexion with the\npress obtained for his son a position on the _Morning Chronicle_ as\nleader writer, dramatic critic and reporter, which continued till 1847;\nhe was also for some time a reporter for _The Times_. He was summoned\nbefore the House of Commons in 1819 for giving an incorrect report of a\nspeech by Joseph Hume. He entered the Middle Temple in 1811, but was not\ncalled to the bar until 1829. The delay was partly due to his\nindiscretion in publishing the _Criticisms on the Bar_ (1819) by \"Amicus\nCuriae.\" His leisure was given to the study of Shakespeare and the early\nEnglish drama. After some minor publications he produced in 1825-1827 a\nnew edition of Dodsley's _Old Plays_, and in 1833 a supplementary volume\nentitled _Five Old Plays_. In 1831 appeared his _History of English\nDramatic Poetry and Annals of the Stage to the Restoration_, a badly\narranged, but valuable work. It obtained for him the post of librarian\nto the duke of Devonshire, and, subsequently, access to the chief\ncollections of early English literature throughout the kingdom,\nespecially to the treasures of Bridgwater House. These opportunities\nwere unhappily misused to effect a series of literary fabrications,\nwhich may be charitably, and perhaps not unjustly, attributed to\nliterary monomania, but of which it is difficult to speak with patience,\nso completely did they for a long time bewilder the chronology of\nShakespeare's writings, and such suspicion have they thrown upon MS.\nevidence in general. After _New Facts_, _New Particulars_ and _Further\nParticulars_ respecting Shakespeare had appeared and passed muster,\nCollier produced (1852) the famous _Perkins Folio_, a copy of the second\nfolio (1632), so called from a name written on the title-page. On this\nbook were numerous MS. emendations of Shakespeare said by Collier to be\nfrom the hand of \"an old corrector.\" He published these corrections as\n_Notes and Emendations to the Text of Shakespeare_ (1852), and boldly\nincorporated them in his edition (1853) of Shakespeare. Their\nauthenticity was disputed by S. W. Singer in _The Text of Shakespeare\nVindicated_ (1853) and by E. A. Brae in _Literary Cookery_ (1855) on\ninternal evidence; and when in 1859 the folio was submitted by its\nowner, the duke of Devonshire, to experts at the British Museum, the\nemendations were incontestably proved to be forgeries of modern date.\nCollier was exposed by Mr Nicholas Hamilton in his _Inquiry_ (1860). The\npoint whether he was deceiver or deceived was left undecided, but the\nfalsifications of which he was unquestionably guilty among the MSS. at\nDulwich College have left little doubt respecting it. He had produced\nthe _Memoirs of Edward Alleyn_ for the Shakespeare Society in 1841. He\nfollowed up this volume with the _Alleyn Papers_ (1843) and the _Diary\nof P. Henslowe_ (1845). He forged the name of Shakespeare in a genuine\nletter at Dulwich, and the spurious entries in Alleyn's _Diary_ were\nproved to be by Collier's hand when the sale of his library in 1884 gave\naccess to a transcript he had made of the _Diary_ with interlineations\ncorresponding with the Dulwich forgeries. No statement of his can be\naccepted without verification, and no manuscript he has handled without\ncareful examination, but he did much useful work. He compiled a valuable\n_Bibliographical and Critical Account of the Rarest Books in the English\nLanguage_ (1865); he reprinted a great number of early English tracts of\nextreme rarity, and rendered good service to the numerous antiquarian\nsocieties with which he was connected, especially in the editions he\nproduced for the Camden Society and the Percy Society. His _Old Man's\nDiary_ (1871-1872) is an interesting record, though even here the taint\nof fabrication is not absent. Unfortunately what he did amiss is more\nstriking to the imagination than what he did aright, and he will be\nchiefly remembered by it. He died at Maidenhead, where he had long\nresided, on the 17th of September 1883.\n\n  For an account of the discussion raised by Collier's emendations see\n  C.M. Ingleby, _Complete View of the Shakespeare Controversy_ (1861).\n\n\n\n\nCOLLIN, HEINRICH JOSEPH VON (1771-1811), Austrian dramatist, was born in\nVienna, on the 26th of December 1771. He received a legal education and\nentered the Austrian ministry of finance where he found speedy\npromotion. In 1805 and in 1809, when Austria was under the heel of\nNapoleon, Collin was entrusted with important political missions. In\n1803 he was, together with other members of his family, ennobled, and in\n1809 made _Hofrat_. He died on the 28th of July 1811. His tragedy\n_Regulus_ (1801), written in strict classical form, was received with\nenthusiasm in Vienna, where literary taste, less advanced than that of\nNorth Germany, was still under the ban of French classicism. But in his\nlater dramas, _Coriolan_ (1804), _Polyxena_ (1804), _Balboa_ (1806),\n_Bianca della Porta_ (1808), he made some attempt to reconcile the\npseudo-classic type of tragedy with that of Shakespeare and the German\nromanticists. As a lyric poet (_Gedichte_, collected 1812), Collin has\nleft a collection of stirring _Wehrmannslieder_ for the fighters in the\ncause of Austrian freedom, as well as some excellent ballads (_Kaiser\nMax auf der Martinswand_, _Herzog Leupold vor Solothurn_). His younger\nbrother Matthaus von Collin (1779-1824), was, as editor of the _Wiener\nJahrbucher fur Literatur_, an even more potent force in the literary\nlife of Vienna. He was, moreover, in sympathy with the Romantic\nmovement, and intimate with its leaders. His dramas on themes from\nAustrian national history (_Belas Krieg mit dem Vater_, 1808, _Der Tod\nFriedrichs des Streitbaren_, 1813) may be regarded as the immediate\nprecursors of Grillparzer's historical tragedies.\n\n  His _Gesammelte Werke_ appeared in 6 vols. (1812-1814); he is the\n  subject of an excellent monograph by F. Laban (1879). See also A.\n  Hauffen, _Das Drama der klassischen Periode_, ii. 2 (1891), where a\n  reprint of _Regulus_ will be found. M. von Collin's _Dramatische\n  Dichtungen_ were published in 4 vols. (1815-1817); his _Nachgelassene\n  Schriften_, edited by J. von Hammer, in 2 vols. (1827). A study of his\n  life and work by J. Wihan will be found in _Euphorion_,\n  Erganzungsheft, v. (1901).\n\n\n\n\nCOLLIN D'HARLEVILLE, JEAN FRANCOIS (1755-1806), French dramatist, was\nborn at Mevoisins, near Maintenon (Eure-et-Loire), on the 30th of May\n1755. His first dramatic success was _L'Inconstant_, a comedy accepted\nby the Comedie Francaise in 1780, but not produced there until six years\nlater, though it was played elsewhere in 1784. This was followed by\n_L'Optimiste, ou l'homme toujours content_ (1788), and _Chateaux en\nEspagne_ (1789). His best play, _Le Vieux Celibataire_, appeared in\n1793. Among his other plays are--the one-act comedy _Monsieur de Crac\ndans son petit castel_ (1791), _Les Artistes_ (1796), _Les Moeurs du\njour_ (1800) and _Malice pour malice_ (1803). Collin was one of the\noriginal members of the Institute of France, and died in Paris on the\n24th of February 1806.\n\n  The 1822 edition of his _Theatre et poesies fugitives_ contains a\n  notice by his friend the dramatist Andrieux. His _Theatre_ was also\n  edited by L. Moland in 1876; and by Edouard Thierry in 1882.\n\n\n\n\nCOLLING, ROBERT (1749-1820), and CHARLES (1751-1836), English stock\nbreeders, famous for their improvement of the Shorthorn breed of cattle,\nwere the sons of Charles Colling, a farmer of Ketton near Darlington.\nTheir lives are closely connected with the history of the Shorthorn\nbreed. Of the two brothers, Charles is probably the better known, and it\nwas his visit to the farm of Robert Bakewell at Dishley that first led\nthe brothers to realize the possibilities of scientific cattle breeding.\nCharles succeeded to his father's farm at Ketton. Robert, after being\nfirst apprenticed to a grocer in Shields, took a farm at Barmpton. An\nanimal which he bought at Charles's advice for L8 and afterwards sold to\nhis brother, became known as the celebrated \"Hubback,\" a bull which\nformed the basis of both the Ketton and Barmpton herds. The two brothers\npursued the same system of \"in and in\" breeding which they had learned\nfrom Bakewell, and both the Ketton and the Barmpton herds were sold by\nauction in the autumn of 1810. The former with 47 lots brought L7116,\nand the latter with 61 lots L7852. Robert Colling died unmarried at\nBarmpton on the 7th of March 1820, leaving his property to his brother.\nCharles Colling, who is remembered as the owner of the famous bulls\n\"Hubback,\" \"Favourite\" and \"Comet,\" was more of a specialist and a\nbusiness man than his brother. He died on the 16th of January 1836.\n\n  See the Journal of the Royal Agricultural Society, 1899, for a\n  biographical sketch of the brothers Colling, by C. J. Bates.\n\n\n\n\nCOLLINGWOOD, CUTHBERT COLLINGWOOD, BARON (1750-1810), British naval\ncommander, was born at Newcastle-upon-Tyne, on the 26th of September\n1750. He was early sent to school; and when only eleven years of age he\nwas put on board the \"Shannon,\" then under the command of Captain\n(afterwards Admiral) Brathwaite, a relative of his own, to whose care\nand attention he was in a great measure indebted for that nautical\nknowledge which shone forth so conspicuously in his subsequent career.\nAfter serving under Captain Brathwaite for some years, and also under\nAdmiral Roddam, he went in 1774 to Boston with Admiral Graves, and\nserved in the naval brigade at the battle of Bunker Hill (17th of June\n1775), where he gained his lieutenancy. In 1779 he was made commander of\nthe \"Badger,\" and shortly afterwards post-captain of the \"Hinchinbroke,\"\na small frigate. In the spring of 1780 that vessel, under the command of\nNelson, was employed upon an expedition to the Spanish Main, where it\nwas proposed to pass into the Pacific by navigating boats along the\nriver San Juan and the lakes Nicaragua and Leon. The attempt failed, and\nmost of those engaged in it became victims to the deadly influence of\nthe climate. Nelson was promoted to a larger vessel, and Collingwood\nsucceeded him in the command. It is a fact worthy of record that the\nlatter succeeded the former very frequently from the time when they\nfirst became acquainted, until the star of Nelson set at\nTrafalgar--giving place to that of Collingwood, less brilliant\ncertainly, but not less steady in its lustre.\n\nAfter commanding in another small frigate, Collingwood was promoted to\nthe \"Sampson\" (64); and in 1783 he was appointed to the \"Mediator,\"\ndestined for the West Indies, where, with Nelson, who had a command on\nthat station, he remained till the end of 1786. With Nelson he warmly\nco-operated in carrying into execution the provisions of the navigation\nlaws, which had been infringed by the United States, whose ships,\nnotwithstanding the separation of the countries, continued to trade to\nthe West Indies, although that privilege was by law exclusively confined\nto British vessels. In 1786 Collingwood returned to England, where, with\nthe exception of a voyage to the West Indies, he remained until 1793, in\nwhich year he was appointed captain of the \"Prince,\" the flag-ship of\nRear-Admiral Bowyer. About two years previous to this event he had\nmarried Miss Sarah Roddam--a fortunate alliance, which continued to be\na solace to him amidst the privations to which the life of a seaman must\never be subject.\n\nAs captain of the \"Barfleur,\" Collingwood was present at the naval\nengagement which was fought on the 1st of June 1794; and on that\noccasion he displayed equal judgment and courage. On board the\n\"Excellent\" he shared in the victory of the 14th of February 1797, when\nSir John Jervis (Lord St Vincent) humbled the Spanish fleet off Cape St\nVincent. His conduct in this engagement was the theme of universal\nadmiration throughout the fleet, and greatly advanced his fame as a\nnaval officer. After blockading Cadiz for some time, he returned for a\nfew weeks to Portsmouth to repair. In the beginning of 1799 Collingwood\nwas raised to the rank of vice-admiral, and hoisting his flag in the\n\"Triumph,\" he joined the Channel Fleet, with which he proceeded to the\nMediterranean, where the principal naval forces of France and Spain were\nassembled. Collingwood continued actively employed in watching the\nenemy, until the peace of Amiens restored him once more to the bosom of\nhis family.\n\nThe domestic repose, however, which he so highly relished, was cut short\nby the recommencement of hostilities with France, and in the spring of\n1803 he quitted the home to which he was never again to return. The duty\nupon which he was employed was that of watching the French fleet off\nBrest, and in the discharge of it he displayed the most unwearied\nvigilance. Nearly two years were spent in this employment; but Napoleon\nhad at length matured his plans and equipped his armament, and the grand\nstruggle which was to decide the fate of Europe and the dominion of the\nsea was close at hand. The enemy's fleet having sailed from Toulon,\nAdmiral Collingwood was appointed to the command of a squadron, with\norders to pursue them. The combined fleets of France and Spain, after\nspreading terror throughout the West Indies, returned to Cadiz. On their\nway thither they bore down upon Admiral Collingwood, who had only three\nvessels with him; but he succeeded in eluding the pursuit, although\nchased by sixteen ships of the line. Ere one-half of the enemy had\nentered the harbour he drew up before it and resumed the blockade, at\nthe same time employing an ingenious artifice to conceal the inferiority\nof his force. But the combined fleet was at last compelled to quit\nCadiz; and the battle of Trafalgar immediately followed. The brilliant\nconduct of Admiral Collingwood upon this occasion has been much and\njustly applauded. The French admiral drew up his fleet in the form of a\ncrescent, and in a double line, every alternate ship being about a\ncable's length to windward of her second, both ahead and astern. The\nBritish fleet bore down upon this formidable and skilfully arranged\narmament in two separate lines, the one led by Nelson in the \"Victory,\"\nand the other by Collingwood in the \"Royal Sovereign.\" The latter vessel\nwas the swifter sailer, and having shot considerably ahead of the rest\nof the fleet, was the first engaged. \"See,\" said Nelson, pointing to the\n\"Royal Sovereign\" as she penetrated the centre of the enemy's line, \"see\nhow that noble fellow Collingwood carries his ship into action!\"\nProbably it was at the same instant that Collingwood, as if in response\nto the observation of his great commander, remarked to his captain,\n\"What would Nelson give to be here?\" The consummate valour and skill\nevinced by Collingwood had a powerful moral influence upon both fleets.\nIt was with the Spanish admiral's ship that the \"Royal Sovereign\"\nclosed; and with such rapidity and precision did she pour in her\nbroadsides upon the \"Santa Anna,\" that the latter was on the eve of\nstriking in the midst of thirty-three sail of the line, and almost\nbefore another British ship had fired a gun. Several other vessels,\nhowever, seeing the imminent peril of the Spanish flag-ship, came to her\nassistance, and hemmed in the \"Royal Sovereign\" on all sides; but the\nlatter, after suffering severely, was relieved by the arrival of the\nrest of the British squadron; and not long afterwards the \"Santa Anna\"\nstruck her colours. The result of the battle of Trafalgar, and the\nexpense at which it was purchased, are well known. On the death of\nNelson, Collingwood assumed the supreme command; and by his skill and\njudgment greatly contributed to the preservation of the British ships,\nas well as of those which were captured from the enemy. He was raised to\nthe peerage as Baron Collingwood of Coldburne and Heathpool, and\nreceived the thanks of both Houses of Parliament, with a pension of\nL2000 per annum.\n\nFrom this period until the death of Lord Collingwood no great naval\naction was fought; but he was much occupied in important political\ntransactions, in which he displayed remarkable tact and judgment. Being\nappointed to the command of the Mediterranean fleet, he continued to\ncruise about, keeping a watchful eye upon the movements of the enemy.\nHis health, however, which had begun to decline previously to the action\nof Trafalgar in 1805, seemed entirely to give way, and he repeatedly\nrequested government to be relieved of his command, that he might return\nhome; but he was urgently requested to remain, on the ground that his\ncountry could not dispense with his services. This conduct has been\nregarded as harsh; but the good sense and political sagacity which he\ndisplayed afford some palliation of the conduct of the government; and\nthe high estimation in which he was held is proved by the circumstance\nthat among the many able admirals, equal in rank and duration of\nservice, none stood so prominently forward as to command the confidence\nof ministers and of the country to the same extent as he did. After many\nfruitless attempts to induce the enemy to put to sea, as well as to fall\nin with them when they had done so (which circumstance materially\ncontributed to hasten his death), he expired on board the \"Ville de\nParis,\" then lying off Port Mahon, on the 7th of March 1810.\n\nLord Collingwood's merits as a naval officer were in every respect of\nthe first order. In original genius and romantic daring he was inferior\nto Nelson, who indeed had no equal in an age fertile in great\ncommanders. In seamanship, in general talent, and in reasoning upon the\nprobability of events from a number of conflicting and ambiguous\nstatements, Collingwood was equal to the hero of the Nile; indeed, many\nwho were familiar with both give him the palm of superiority. His\npolitical penetration was remarkable; and so high was the opinion\ngenerally entertained of his judgment, that he was consulted in all\nquarters, and on all occasions, upon questions of general policy, of\nregulation, and even of trade. He was distinguished for benevolence and\ngenerosity; his acts of charity were frequent and bountiful, and the\npetition of real distress was never rejected by him. He was an enemy to\nimpressment and to flogging; and so kind was he to his crew, that he\nobtained amongst them the honourable name of father. Between Nelson and\nCollingwood a close intimacy subsisted, from their first acquaintance in\nearly life till the fall of the former at Trafalgar; and they lie side\nby side in the cathedral of St Paul's.\n\n  The selections from the public and private correspondence of Lord\n  Collingwood, published in 2 vols., 8vo, in 1828, contain some of the\n  best specimens of letter-writing in the language. See also _A Fine Old\n  English Gentleman exemplified in the Life and Character of Lord\n  Collingwood, a Biographical Study_, by William Davies (London, 1875).\n\n\n\n\nCOLLINGWOOD, a city of Bourke county, Victoria, Australia, suburban to\nMelbourne on the N.E., on the Yarra Yarra river. Pop. (1901) 32,766. It\nwas the first town in Victoria incorporated after Melbourne and Geelong.\nIt is esteemed one of the healthiest of the metropolitan suburbs.\n\n\n\n\nCOLLINGWOOD, a town of Simcoe county, Ontario, Canada, 90 m. N.N.W. of\nToronto, on Georgian Bay, and on the Grand Trunk railway. Pop. (1901)\n5755. It is the eastern terminus of two lines of steamers for the ports\nof Lakes Huron and Superior. It contains a large stone dry-dock and\nshipyard, pork factory, and saw and planing mills, and has a large\nlumber, grain and produce export trade, besides a shipbuilding plant and\nsteel works.\n\n\n\n\nCOLLINS, ANTHONY (1676-1729), English deist, was born at Heston, near\nHounslow in Middlesex, on the 21st of June 1676. He was educated at Eton\nand King's College, Cambridge, and was for some time a student at the\nMiddle Temple. The most interesting episode of his life was his intimacy\nwith Locke, who in his letters speaks of him with affection and\nadmiration. In 1715 he settled in Essex, where he held the offices of\njustice of the peace and deputy-lieutenant, which he had before held in\nMiddlesex. He died at his house in Harley Street, London, on the 13th\nof December 1729.\n\nHis writings are important as gathering together the results of previous\nEnglish Freethinkers. The imperturbable courtesy of his style is in\nstriking contrast to the violence of his opponents; and it must be\nremembered that, in spite of his unorthodoxy, he was not an atheist or\neven an agnostic. In his own words, \"Ignorance is the foundation of\natheism, and freethinking the cure of it\" (_Discourse of Freethinking_,\n105).\n\nHis first work of note was his _Essay concerning the Use of Reason in\nPropositions the Evidence whereof depends on Human Testimony_ (1707), in\nwhich he rejected the distinction between _above_ reason and _contrary\nto_ reason, and demanded that revelation should conform to man's natural\nideas of God. Like all his works, it was published anonymously, although\nthe identity of the author was never long concealed. Six years later\nappeared his chief work, _A Discourse of Freethinking, occasioned by the\nRise and Growth of a Sect called Freethinkers_ (1713). Notwithstanding\nthe ambiguity of its title, and the fact that it attacks the priests of\nall churches without moderation, it contends for the most part, at least\nexplicitly, for no more than must be admitted by every Protestant.\nFreethinking is a right which cannot and must not be limited, for it is\nthe only means of attaining to a knowledge of truth, it essentially\ncontributes to the well-being of society, and it is not only permitted\nbut enjoined by the Bible. In fact the first introduction of\nChristianity and the success of all missionary enterprise involve\nfreethinking (in its etymological sense) on the part of those converted.\nIn England this essay, which was regarded and treated as a plea for\ndeism, made a great sensation, calling forth several replies, among\nothers from William Whiston, Bishop Hare, Bishop Hoadly, and Richard\nBentley, who, under the signature of _Phileleutherus Lipsiensis_,\nroughly handles certain arguments carelessly expressed by Collins, but\ntriumphs chiefly by an attack on trivial points of scholarship, his own\npamphlet being by no means faultless in this very respect. Swift also,\nbeing satirically referred to in the book, made it the subject of a\ncaricature.\n\nIn 1724 Collins published his _Discourse of the Grounds and Reasons of\nthe Christian Religion_, with _An Apology for Free Debate and Liberty of\nWriting_ prefixed. Ostensibly it is written in opposition to Whiston's\nattempt to show that the books of the Old Testament did originally\ncontain prophecies of events in the New Testament story, but that these\nhad been eliminated or corrupted by the Jews, and to prove that the\nfulfilment of prophecy by the events of Christ's life is all \"secondary,\nsecret, allegorical, and mystical,\" since the original and literal\nreference is always to some other fact. Since, further, according to him\nthe fulfilment of prophecy is the only valid proof of Christianity, he\nthus secretly aims a blow at Christianity as a revelation. The\ncanonicity of the New Testament he ventures openly to deny, on the\nground that the canon could be fixed only by men who were inspired. No\nless than thirty-five answers were directed against this book, the most\nnoteworthy of which were those of Bishop Edward Chandler, Arthur Sykes\nand Samuel Clarke. To these, but with special reference to the work of\nChandler, which maintained that a number of prophecies were literally\nfulfilled in Christ, Collins replied by his _Scheme of Literal Prophecy\nConsidered_ (1727). An appendix contends against Whiston that the book\nof _Daniel_ was forged in the time of Antiochus Epiphanes (see DEISM).\n\nIn philosophy, Collins takes a foremost place as a defender of\nNecessitarianism. His brief _Inquiry Concerning Human Liberty_ (1715)\nhas not been excelled, at all events in its main outlines, as a\nstatement of the determinist standpoint. One of his arguments, however,\ncalls for special criticism,--his assertion that it is self-evident that\nnothing that has a beginning can be without a cause is an unwarranted\nassumption of the very point at issue. He was attacked in an elaborate\ntreatise by Samuel Clarke, in whose system the freedom of the will is\nmade essential to religion and morality. During Clarke's lifetime,\nfearing perhaps to be branded as an enemy of religion and morality,\nCollins made no reply, but in 1729 he published an answer, entitled\n_Liberty and Necessity_.\n\nBesides these works he wrote _A Letter to Mr Dodwell_, arguing that it is\nconceivable that the soul may be material, and, secondly, that if the soul\nbe immaterial it does not follow, as Clarke had contended, that it is\nimmortal; _Vindication of the Divine Attributes_ (1710); _Priestcraft in\nPerfection_ (1709), in which he asserts that the clause \"the Church ...\nFaith\" in the twentieth of the Thirty-nine Articles was inserted by fraud.\n\n  See Kippis, _Biographia Britannica_; G. Lechler, _Geschichte des\n  englischen Deismus_ (1841); J. Hunt, _Religious Thought in England_,\n  ii. (1871); Leslie Stephen, _English Thought in the 18th Century_, i.\n  (1881); A. W. Benn, _Hist. of English Rationalism in the 19th Century_\n  (London, 1906), vol. i. ch. iii.; J. M. Robertson, _Short History of\n  Freethought_ (London, 1906); and Deism.\n\n\n\n\nCOLLINS, JOHN CHURTON (1848-1908), English literary critic, was born on\nthe 26th of March 1848 at Bourton on the Water, Gloucestershire. From\nKing Edward's school, Birmingham, he went to Balliol College, Oxford,\nwhere he graduated in 1872, and at once devoted himself to a literary\ncareer, as journalist, essayist and lecturer. His first book was a study\nof Sir Joshua Reynolds (1874), and later he edited various classical\nEnglish writers, and published volumes on _Bolingbroke and Voltaire in\nEngland_ (1886), a _Study of English Literature_ (1891), a study of\n_Dean Swift_ (1893), _Essays and Studies_ (1895), _Ephemera Critica_\n(1901), _Essays in Poetry and Criticism_ (1905), and _Rousseau and\nVoltaire_ (1908), his original essays being sharply controversial in\ntone, but full of knowledge. In 1904 he became professor of English\nliterature at Birmingham University. For many years he was a prominent\nUniversity Extension lecturer, and a constant contributor to the\nprincipal reviews. On the 15th of September 1908 he was found dead in a\nditch near Lowestoft, at which place he had been staying with a doctor\nfor the benefit of his health. The circumstances necessitated the\nholding of an inquest, the verdict being that of \"accidental death.\"\n\n\n\n\nCOLLINS, MORTIMER (1827-1876), English writer, was born at Plymouth,\nwhere his father, Francis Collins, was a solicitor, on the 29th of June\n1827. He was educated at a private school, and after some years spent as\nmathematical master at Queen Elizabeth's College, Guernsey, he went to\nLondon, where he devoted himself to journalism in the Conservative\ninterest. In 1855 he published his _Idyls and Rhymes_; and in 1865\nappeared his first story, _Who is the Heir?_ A second volume of lyrics,\n_The Inn of Strange Meetings_, was issued in 1871; and in 1872 he\nproduced his longest and best sustained poem, _The British Birds, a\ncommunication from the Ghost of Aristophanes_. He also wrote several\ncapital novels, the best of which is perhaps _Sweet Anne Page_ (1868).\nSome of his lyrics, in their light grace, their sparkling wit, their\nairy philosophy, are equal to anything of their kind in modern English.\nOn his second marriage in 1868 he settled at Knowl Hill, Berkshire.\nCollins was an athlete, an excellent pedestrian, and an enthusiastic\nlover of country life; and from this time he rarely left his home for a\nday. Conservative in his political and literary tastes, an ardent\nupholder of Church and State, he was yet a hater of convention; and his\nmany and very varied gifts endeared him to a large circle of friends. He\ndied on the 28th of July 1876.\n\n\n\n\nCOLLINS, WILLIAM (1721-1759), English poet, was born on the 25th of\nDecember 1721. He divides with Gray the glory of being the greatest\nEnglish lyrist of the 18th century. After some childish studies in\nChichester, of which his father, a rich hatter, was the mayor, he was\nsent, in January 1733, to Winchester College, where Whitehead and Joseph\nWarton were his school-fellows. When he had been nine months at the\nschool, Pope paid Winchester a visit and proposed a subject for a prize\npoem; it is legitimate to suppose that the lofty forehead, the brisk\ndark eyes and gracious oval of the childish face, as we know it in the\nonly portrait existing of Collins, did not escape the great man's\nnotice, then not a little occupied with the composition of the _Essay on\nMan_.\n\nIn 1734 the young poet published his first verses, in a sixpenny\npamphlet on _The Royal Nuptials_, of which, however, no copy has come\ndown to us; another poem, probably satiric, called _The Battle of the\nSchoolbooks_, was written about this time, and has also been lost. Fired\nby his poetic fellows to further feats in verse, Collins produced, in\nhis seventeenth year, those _Persian Eclogues_ which were the only\nwritings of his that were valued by the world during his own lifetime.\nThey were not printed for some years, and meanwhile Collins sent, in\nJanuary and October 1739, some verses to the _Gentleman's Magazine_,\nwhich attracted the notice and admiration of Johnson, then still young\nand uninfluential. In March 1740 he was admitted a commoner of Queen's\nCollege, Oxford, but did not go up to Oxford until July 1741, when he\nobtained a demyship at Magdalen College. At Oxford he continued his\naffectionate intimacy with the Wartons, and gained the friendship of\nGilbert White. Early in 1742 the _Persian Eclogues_ appeared in London.\nThey were four in number, and formed a modest pamphlet of not more than\n300 lines in all. In a later edition, of 1759, the title was changed to\n_Oriental Eclogues_. Those pieces may be compared with Victor Hugo's\n_Les Orientales_, to which, of course, they are greatly inferior.\nConsidered with regard to the time at which they were produced, they are\nmore than meritorious, even brilliant, and one at least--the second--can\nbe read with enjoyment at the present day. The rest, perhaps, will be\nfound somewhat artificial and effete.\n\nIn November 1743 Collins was made bachelor of arts, and a few days after\ntaking his degree published his second work, _Verses humbly addressed to\nSir Thomas Hanmer_. This poem, written in heroic couplets, shows a great\nadvance in individuality, and resembles, in its habit of personifying\nqualities of the mind, the riper lyrics of its author. For the rest, it\nis an enthusiastic review of poetry, culminating in a laudation of\nShakespeare. It is supposed that he left Oxford abruptly in the summer\nof 1744 to attend his mother's death-bed, and did not return. He is said\nto have now visited an uncle in Flanders. His indolence, which had been\nno less marked at the university than his genius, combined with a fatal\nirresolution to make it extremely difficult to choose for him a path in\nlife. The army and the church were successively suggested and rejected;\nand he finally arrived in London, bent on enjoying a small property as\nan independent man about town. He made the acquaintance of Johnson and\nothers, and was urged by those friends to undertake various important\nwritings--a _History of the Revival of Learning_, several tragedies, and\na version of Aristotle's _Poetics_, among others--all of which he began\nbut lacked force of will to continue. He soon squandered his means,\nplunged, with most disastrous effects, into profligate excesses, and\nsowed the seed of his untimely misfortune.\n\nIt was at this time, however, that he composed his matchless\n_Odes_--twelve in number--which appeared on the 12th of December 1746,\ndated 1747. The original project was to have combined them with the odes\nof Joseph Warton, but the latter proved at that time to be the more\nmarketable article. Collins's little volume fell dead from the press,\nbut it won him the admiration and friendship of the poet Thomson, with\nwhom, until the death of the latter in 1748, he lived on terms of\naffectionate intimacy. In 1749 Collins was raised beyond the fear of\npoverty by the death of his uncle, Colonel Martyn, who left him about\nL2000, and he left London to settle in his native city. He had hardly\nbegun to taste the sweets of a life devoted to literature and quiet,\nbefore the weakness of his will began to develop in the direction of\ninsanity, and he hurried abroad to attempt to dispel the gathering gloom\nby travel. In the interval he had published two short pieces of\nconsummate grace and beauty--the _Elegy on Thomson_, in 1749, and the\n_Dirge in Cymbeline_, later in the same year. In the beginning of 1750\nhe composed the _Ode on the Popular Superstitions of the Highlands_,\nwhich was dedicated to the author of _Douglas_, and not printed till\nlong after the death of Collins, and an _Ode on the Music of the Grecian\nTheatre_, which no longer exists, and in which English literature\nprobably has sustained a severe loss. With this poem his literary career\ncloses, although he lingered in great misery for nearly nine years. From\nGilbert White, who jotted down some pages of invaluable recollections of\nCollins in 1781, and from other friends, we learn that his madness was\noccasionally violent, and that he was confined for a time in an asylum\nat Oxford. But for the most part he resided at Chichester, suffering\nfrom extreme debility of body when the mind was clear, and incapable of\nany regular occupation. Music affected him in a singular manner, and it\nis recorded that he was wont to slip out into the cathedral cloisters\nduring the services, and moan and howl in horrible accordance with the\nchoir. In this miserable condition he passed out of sight of all his\nfriends, and in 1756 it was supposed, even by Johnson, that he was dead;\nin point of fact, however, his sufferings did not cease until the 12th\nof June 1759. No journal or magazine recorded the death of the forgotten\npoet, though Goldsmith, only two months before, had begun the laudation\nwhich was soon to become universal.\n\nNo English poet so great as Collins has left behind him so small a bulk\nof writings. Not more than 1500 lines of his have been handed down to\nus, but among these not one is slovenly, and few are poor. His odes are\nthe most sculpturesque and faultless in the language. They lack fire,\nbut in charm and precision of diction, exquisite propriety of form, and\nlofty poetic suggestion they stand unrivalled. The ode named _The\nPassions_ is the most popular; that _To Evening_ is the classical\nexample of perfect unrhymed verse. In this, and the _Ode to Simplicity_,\none seems to be handling an antique vase of matchless delicacy and\nelegance. In his descriptions of nature it is unquestionable that he\nowed something to the influence of Thomson. Distinction may be said to\nbe the crowning grace of the style of Collins; its leading peculiarity\nis the incessant personification of some quality of the character. In\nthe _Ode on Popular Superstitions_ he produced a still nobler work; this\npoem, the most considerable in size which has been preserved, contains\npassages which are beyond question unrivalled for rich melancholy\nfulness in the literature between Milton and Keats.\n\n  The life of Collins was written by Dr Johnson; he found an\n  enthusiastic editor in Dr Langhorne in 1765, and in 1858 a kindly\n  biographer in Mr Moy Thomas.     (E. G.)\n\n\n\n\nCOLLINS, WILLIAM (1787-1847), English painter, son of an Irish picture\ndealer and man of letters, the author of a _Life of George Morland_, was\nborn in London. He studied under Etty in 1807, and in 1809 exhibited his\nfirst pictures of repute--\"Boys at Breakfast,\" and \"Boys with a Bird's\nNest.\" In 1815 he was made associate of the Royal Academy, and was\nelected R. A. in 1820. For the next sixteen years he was a constant\nexhibitor; his fishermen, shrimp-catchers, boats and nets, stretches of\ncoast and sand, and, above all, his rustic children were universally\npopular. Then, however, he went abroad on the advice of Wilkie, and for\ntwo years (1837-1838) studied the life, manners and scenery of Italy. In\n1839 he exhibited the first fruits of this journey; and in 1840, in\nwhich year he was appointed librarian to the Academy, he made his first\nappearance as a painter of history. In 1842 he returned to his early\nmanner and choice of subject, and during the last years of life enjoyed\ngreater popularity than ever. Collins was a good colourist and an\nexcellent draughtsman. His earlier pictures are deficient in breadth and\nforce, but his later work, though also carefully executed, is rich in\neffects of tone and in broadly painted masses. His biography by his son,\nW. Wilkie Collins, the novelist, appeared in 1848.\n\n\n\n\nCOLLINS, WILLIAM WILKIE (1824-1889), English novelist, elder son of\nWilliam Collins, R.A., the landscape painter, was born in London on the\n8th of January 1824. He was educated at a private school in Highbury,\nand when only a small boy of twelve was taken by his parents to Italy,\nwhere the family lived for three years. On their return to England\nWilkie Collins was articled to a firm in the tea trade, but four years\nlater he abandoned that business for the law, and was entered at\nLincoln's Inn in 1846, being called to the bar three years later. He\nfound little pleasure in his new career, however; though what he learned\nin it was exceedingly valuable to him later. On his father's death in\n1847 young Collins made his first essay in literature, publishing the\n_Life of William Collins_, in two volumes, in the following year. In\n1850 he put forth his first work of fiction, _Antonina, or the Fall of\nRome_, which was clearly inspired by his life in Italy. _Basil_ appeared\nin 1852, and _Hide and Seek_ in 1854. About this time he made the\nacquaintance of Charles Dickens, and began to contribute to _Household\nWords_, where _After Dark_ (1856) and _The Dead Secret_ (1857) ran\nserially. His great success was achieved in 1860 with the publication of\n_The Woman in White_, which was first printed in _All the Year Round_.\nFrom that time he enjoyed as much popularity as any novelist of his day,\n_No Name_ (1862), _Armadale_ (1866), and _The Moonstone_, a capital\ndetective story (1868), being among his most successful books. After\n_The New Magdalen_ (1873) his ingenuity became gradually exhausted, and\nhis later stories were little more than faint echoes of earlier\nsuccesses. He died in Wimpole Street, London, on the 23rd of September\n1889. Collins's gift was of the melodramatic order, and while many of\nhis stories made excellent plays, several of them were actually\nreconstructed from pieces designed originally for stage production. But\nif his colours were occasionally crude and his methods violent, he was\nat least a master of situation and effect. His trick of telling a story\nthrough the mouths of different characters is sometimes irritatingly\ndisconnected; but it had the merit of giving an air of actual evidence\nand reality to the elucidation of a mystery. He possessed in the highest\ndegree the gift of absorbing interest; the turns and complexities of his\nplots are surprisingly ingenious, and many of his characters are not\nonly real, but uncommon. Count Fosco in _The Woman in White_ is perhaps\nhis masterpiece; the character has been imitated again and again, but no\nimitation has ever attained to the subtlety and humour of the original.\n\n\n\n\nCOLLODION (from the Gr. [Greek: kolla], glue), a colourless, viscid\nfluid, made by dissolving gun-cotton and the other varieties of\npyroxylin in a mixture of alcohol and ether. It was discovered in 1846\nby Louis Nicolas Menard in Paris, and independently in 1848 by Dr J.\nParkers Maynard in Boston. The quality of collodion differs according to\nthe proportions of alcohol and ether and the nature of the pyroxylin it\ncontains. Collodion in which there is a great excess of ether gives by\nits evaporation a very tough film; the film left by collodion containing\na large quantity of alcohol is soft and easily torn; but in hot climates\nthe presence of an excess of alcohol is an advantage, as it prevents the\nrapid evaporation of the ether. Under the microscope, the film produced\nby collodion of good quality appears translucent and colourless. To\npreserve collodion it should be kept cool and out of the action of the\nlight; iodized collodion that has been discoloured by the development of\nfree iodine may be purified by the immersion in it of a strip of silver\nfoil. For the iodizing of collodion, ammonium bromide and iodide, and\nthe iodides of calcium and cadmium are the agents employed (see\nPHOTOGRAPHY). Collodion is used in surgery since, when painted on the\nskin, it rapidly dries and covers the skin with a thin film which\ncontracts as it dries and therefore affords both pressure and\nprotection. Flexible collodion, containing Canada balsam and castor oil,\ndoes not crack, but, on the other hand, does not contract. It is\ntherefore of less value. Collodion is applied to small aseptic wounds,\nto small-pox pustules, and occasionally to the end of the urethra in\nboys in order to prevent nocturnal incontinence. Collodion and crystals\nof carbolic acid, taken in equal parts, are useful in relieving\ntoothache due to the presence of a carious cavity. _Vesicating_ or\n_Blistering Collodion_ contains cantharidin as one of its constituents.\nThe styptic colloid of Richardson is a strong solution of tannin in\ngun-cotton collodion. Similarly collodion may be impregnated with\nsalicylic acid, carbolic acid, iodine and other substances. Small\nballoons are manufactured from collodion by coating the interior of\nglass globes with the liquid; the film when dry is removed from the\nglass by applying suction to the mouth of the vessel. M. E. Gripon found\n(_Compt. rend._, 1875) that collodion membranes, like glass, reflect\nlight and polarize it both by refraction and reflection; they also\ntransmit a very much larger proportion of radiant heat, for the study of\nwhich they are preferable to mica.\n\n\n\n\nCOLLOT D'HERBOIS, JEAN MARIE (1750-1796), French revolutionist, was a\nParisian by birth and an actor by profession. After figuring for some\nyears at the principal provincial theatres of France and Holland, he\nbecame director of the playhouse at Geneva. He had from the first a\nshare in the revolutionary tumult; but it was not until 1791 that he\nbecame a figure of importance. Then, however, by the publication of\n_L'Almanach du Pere Gerard_,[1] a little book setting forth, in homely\nstyle, the advantages of a constitutional monarchy, he suddenly acquired\ngreat popularity. His renown was soon increased by his active\ninterference on behalf of the Swiss of the Chateau-Vieux Regiment,\ncondemned to the galleys for mutiny at Nancy. His efforts resulted in\ntheir liberation; he went himself to Brest in search of them; and a\ncivic feast was decreed on his behalf and theirs, which gave occasion\nfor one of the few poems published during his life by Andre Chenier. But\nhis opinions became more and more radical. He was a member of the\nCommune of Paris on the 10th of August 1792, and was elected deputy for\nParis to the Convention, where he was the first to demand the abolition\nof royalty (on the 21st of September 1792), and he voted the death of\nLouis XVI. \"_sans sursis_.\" In the struggle between the Mountain and the\nGirondists he displayed great energy; and after the _coup d'etat_ of the\n31st of May 1793 he made himself conspicuous by his pitiless pursuit of\nthe defeated party. In June he was made president of the Convention; and\nin September he was admitted to the Committee of Public Safety, on which\nhe was very active. After having entrusted him with several missions,\nthe Convention sent him, on the 30th of October 1793, to Lyons to punish\nthe revolt of that city. There he introduced the Terror in its most\nterrible form.\n\nIn May 1794 an attempt was made to assassinate Collot; but it only\nincreased his popularity, and this won him the hatred of Robespierre,\nagainst whom he took sides on the 9th Thermidor, when he presided over\nthe Convention during a part of the session. During the Thermidorian\nreaction he was one of the first to be accused of complicity with the\nfallen leader, but was acquitted. Denounced a second time, he defended\nhimself by pleading that he had acted for the cause of the Revolution,\nbut was condemned with Barere and Billaud-Varenne to transportation to\nCayenne (March 1795), where he died early in 1796.\n\nCollot d'Herbois wrote and adapted from the English and Spanish many\nplays, one of which, _Le Paysan magistrat_, kept the stage for several\nyears. _L'Almanach du Pere Gerard_ was reprinted under the title of\n_Etrennes aux amis de la Constitution francaise, ou entretiens du Pere\nGerard avec ses concitoyens_ (Paris, 1792).\n\n  See F. A. Aulard, _Les Orateurs de la Legislative et de la Convention_\n  (Paris, 1885-1886), t. ii. pp. 501-512. The principal documents\n  relative to the trial of Collot d'Herbois, Barere and Billaud-Varenne\n  are indicated in Aulard, _Recueil des actes du comite de salut\n  public_, t. i. pp. 5 and 6.\n\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n  [1] Michel Gerard was a popular Breton peasant deputy (see JACOBINS).\n\n\n\n\nCOLLUSION (from Lat. _colludere_, strictly, to play with), a secret\nagreement or compact for some improper purpose. In judicial proceedings,\nand particularly in matrimonial causes (see DIVORCE), collusion is a\ndeceitful agreement between two or more persons, or between one of them\nand a third party, to bring an action against the other in order to\nobtain a judicial decision, or some remedy which would not have been\nobtained unless the parties had combined for the purpose or suppressed\nmaterial facts or otherwise.\n\n\n\n\nCOLLYER, ROBERT (1823-   ), American Unitarian clergyman, was born in\nKeighley, Yorkshire, England, on the 8th of December 1823. At the age of\neight he was compelled to leave school and support himself by work in a\nlinen factory. He was naturally studious, however, and supplemented his\nscant schooling by night study. At fourteen he was apprenticed to a\nblacksmith, and for several years worked at this trade at Ilkley. In\n1849 he became a local Methodist minister, and in the following year\nemigrated to the United States, where he obtained employment as a hammer\nmaker at Shoemakersville, Pennsylvania. Here he soon began to preach on\nSundays while still employed in the factory on week-days. His earnest,\nrugged, simple style of oratory made him extremely popular, and at once\nsecured for him a wide reputation. His advocacy of anti-slavery\nprinciples, then frowned upon by the Methodist authorities, aroused\nopposition, and eventually resulted in his trial for heresy and the\nrevocation of his licence. He continued, however, as an independent\npreacher and lecturer, and in 1859, having joined the Unitarian Church,\nbecame a missionary of that church in Chicago, Illinois. In 1860 he\norganized and became pastor of the Unity Church, the second Unitarian\nchurch in Chicago. Under his guidance the church grew to be one of the\nstrongest of that denomination in the West, and Mr Collyer himself came\nto be looked upon as one of the foremost pulpit orators in the country.\nDuring the Civil War he was active in the work of the Sanitary\nCommission. In 1879 he left Chicago and became pastor of the church of\nthe Messiah in New York city, and in 1903 he became pastor emeritus. He\npublished: _Nature and Life_ (1867); _A Man in Earnest: Life of A. H.\nConant_ (1868); _The Life That Now is_ (1871); _The Simple Truth_\n(1877); _Talks to Young Men: With Asides to Young Women_ (1888); _Things\nNew and Old_ (1893); _Father Taylor_ (1906); and _A History of the Town\nand Parish of Ilkley_ (with Horsefall Turner, 1886).\n\n\n\n\nCOLMAN, SAINT (d. 676), bishop of Lindisfarne, was probably an Irish\nmonk at Iona. Journeying southwards he became bishop of Lindisfarne in\n661, and a favoured friend of Oswio, king of Northumbria. He was at the\nsynod of Whitby in 664, when the great dispute between the Roman and the\nCeltic parties in the church was considered; as spokesman of the latter\nparty he upheld the Celtic usages, but King Oswio decided against him\nand his cause was lost. After this event Colman and some monks went to\nIona and then to Ireland. He settled on the island of Inishbofin, where\nhe built a monastery and where he died on the 8th of August 676.\n\nColman must be distinguished from St Colman of Cloyne (c. 522-600), an\nIrish saint, who became a Christian about 570; and also from another\nIrishman, St Colman Ela (553-610), a kinsman of St Columba. The word\nColman is derived from the Latin _columbus_, a dove, and the _Book of\nLeinster_ mentions 209 saints of this name.\n\n\n\n\nCOLMAN, GEORGE (1732-1794), English dramatist and essayist, usually\ncalled \"the Elder,\" and sometimes \"George the First,\" to distinguish him\nfrom his son, was born in 1732 at Florence, where his father was\nstationed as resident at the court of the grand duke of Tuscany.\nColman's father died within a year of his son's birth, and the boy's\neducation was undertaken by William Pulteney, afterwards Lord Bath,\nwhose wife was Mrs Colman's sister. After attending a private school in\nMarylebone, he was sent to Westminster School, which he left in due\ncourse for Christ Church, Oxford. Here he made the acquaintance of\nBonnell Thornton, the parodist, and together they founded _The\nConnoisseur_ (1754-1756), a periodical which, although it reached its\n140th number, \"wanted weight,\" as Johnson said. He left Oxford after\ntaking his degree in 1755, and, having been entered at Lincoln's Inn\nbefore his return to London, he was called to the bar in 1757. A\nfriendship formed with David Garrick did not help his career as a\nbarrister, but he continued to practise until the death of Lord Bath,\nout of respect for his wishes.\n\nIn 1760 he produced his first play, _Polly Honeycomb_, which met with\ngreat success. In 1761 _The Jealous Wife_, a comedy partly founded on\n_Tom Jones_, made Colman famous. The death of Lord Bath in 1764 placed\nhim in possession of independent means. In 1765 appeared his metrical\ntranslation of the plays of Terence; and in 1766 he produced _The\nClandestine Marriage_, jointly with Garrick, whose refusal to take the\npart of Lord Ogleby led to a quarrel between the two authors. In the\nnext year he purchased a fourth share in the Covent Garden Theatre, a\nstep which is said to have induced General Pulteney to revoke a will by\nwhich he had left Colman large estates. The general, who died in that\nyear, did, however, leave him a considerable annuity. Colman was acting\nmanager of Covent Garden for seven years, and during that period he\nproduced several \"adapted\" plays of Shakespeare. In 1768 he was elected\nto the Literary Club, then nominally consisting of twelve members. In\n1774 he sold his share in the great playhouse, which had involved him in\nmuch litigation with his partners, to Leake; and three years later he\npurchased of Samuel Foote, then broken in health and spirits, the little\ntheatre in the Haymarket. He was attacked with paralysis in 1785; in\n1789 his brain became affected, and he died on the 14th of August 1794.\nBesides the works already cited, Colman was author of adaptations of\nBeaumont and Fletcher's _Bonduca_, Ben Jonson's _Epicoene_, Milton's\n_Comus_, and of other plays. He also produced an edition of the works of\nBeaumont and Fletcher (1778), a version of the _Ars Poetica_ of Horace,\nan excellent translation from the _Mercator_ of Plautus for Bonnell\nThornton's edition (1769-1772), some thirty plays, many parodies and\noccasional pieces. An incomplete edition of his dramatic works was\npublished in 1777 in four volumes.\n\nHis son, GEORGE COLMAN (1762-1836), known as \"the Younger,\" English\ndramatist and miscellaneous writer, was born on the 21st of October\n1762. He passed from Westminster school to Christ Church, Oxford, and\nKing's College, Aberdeen, and was finally entered as a student of law at\nLincoln's Inn, London. While in Aberdeen he published a poem satirizing\nCharles James Fox, called _The Man of the People_; and in 1782 he\nproduced, at his father's playhouse in the Haymarket, his first play,\n_The Female Dramatist_, for which Smollett's _Roderick Random_ supplied\nthe materials. It was unanimously condemned, but _Two to One_ (1784) was\nentirely successful. It was followed by _Turk and no Turk_ (1785), a\nmusical comedy; _Inkle and Yarico_ (1787), an opera; _Ways and Means_\n(1788); _The Iron Chest_ (1796), taken from William Godwin's _Adventures\nof Caleb Williams_; _The Poor Gentleman_ (1802); _John Bull, or an\nEnglishman's Fireside_ (1803), his most successful piece; _The Heir at\nLaw_ (1808), which enriched the stage with one immortal character, \"Dr\nPangloss,\" and numerous other pieces, many of them adapted from the\nFrench.\n\nThe failing health of the elder Colman obliged him to relinquish the\nmanagement of the Haymarket theatre in 1789, when the younger George\nsucceeded him, at a yearly salary of L600. On the death of the father\nthe patent was continued to the son; but difficulties arose in his way,\nhe was involved in litigation with Thomas Harris, and was unable to pay\nthe expenses of the performances at the Haymarket. He was forced to take\nsanctuary within the Rules of the King's Bench. Here he resided for many\nyears continuing to direct the affairs of his theatre. Released at last\nthrough the kindness of George IV., who had appointed him exon of the\nYeomen of the Guard, a dignity disposed of by Colman to the highest\nbidder, he was made examiner of plays by the duke of Montrose, then lord\nchamberlain. This office, to the disgust of all contemporary dramatists,\nto whose MSS. he was as illiberal as he was severe, he held till his\ndeath. Although his own productions were open to charges of indecency\nand profanity, he was so severe a censor of others that he would not\npass even such words as \"heaven,\" \"providence\" or \"angel.\" His comedies\nare a curious mixture of genuine comic force and sentimentality. A\ncollection of them was published (1827) in Paris, with a life of the\nauthor, by J. W. Lake.\n\nColman, whose witty conversation made him a favourite, was also the\nauthor of a great deal of so-called humorous poetry (mostly coarse,\nthough much of it was popular)--_My Night Gown and Slippers_ (1797),\nreprinted under the name of _Broad Grins_, in 1802; and _Poetical\nVagaries_ (1812). Some of his writings were published under the assumed\nname of Arthur Griffinhood of Turnham Green. He died in Brompton,\nLondon, on the 17th of October 1836. He had, as early as 1784,\ncontracted a runaway marriage with an actress, Clara Morris, to whose\nbrother David Morris, he eventually disposed of his share in the\nHaymarket theatre. Many of the leading parts in his plays were written\nespecially for Mrs Gibbs (_nee_ Logan), whom he was said to have\nsecretly married after the death of his first wife.\n\n  See the second George Colman's memoirs of his early life, entitled\n  _Random Records_ (1830), and R. B. Peake, _Memoirs of the Colman\n  Family_ (1842).\n\n\n\n\nCOLMAN, SAMUEL (1832-   ), American landscape painter, was born at\nPortland, Maine, on the 4th of March 1832. He was a pupil of Ashur B.\nDurand in New York, and in 1860-1862 studied in Spain, Italy, France and\nEngland. In 1871-1876 he was again in Europe. In 1860, with James D.\nSmilie, he founded the American Water Color Society, and became its\nfirst president (1866-1867), his own water-colour paintings being\nparticularly fine. He was elected a member of the National Academy of\nDesign in 1862. Among his works are \"The Ships of the Western Plains,\"\nin the Union League Club, New York; and \"The Spanish Peaks, Colorado,\"\nin the Metropolitan Museum, New York.\n\n\n\n\nCOLMAR, or KOLMAR, a town of Germany, in the imperial province of\nAlsace-Lorraine, formerly the capital of the department of Haut-Rhin in\nFrance, on the Logelbach and Lauch, tributaries of the Ill, 40 m. S.S.W.\nfrom Strassburg on the main line of railway to Basel. Pop. (1905)\n41,582. It is the seat of the government for Upper Alsace, and of the\nsupreme court of appeal for Alsace-Lorraine. The town is surrounded by\npleasant promenades, on the site of the old fortifications, and has\nnumerous narrow and picturesque streets. Of its edifices the most\nremarkable are the Roman Catholic parish church of St Martin, known also\nas the _Munster_, dating from the 13th and 14th centuries, the Lutheran\nparish church (15th century), the former Dominican monastery\n(1232-1289), known as \"Unterlinden\" and now used as a museum, the\nKaufhaus (trade-hall) of the 15th century, and the handsome government\noffices (formerly the Prefecture). Colmar is the centre of considerable\ntextile industries, comprising wool, cotton and silk-weaving, and has\nimportant manufactures of sewing thread, starch, sugar and machinery.\nBleaching and brewing are also carried on, and the neighbourhood is rich\nin vineyards and fruit-gardens. The considerable trade of the place is\nassisted by a chamber of commerce and a branch of the Imperial Bank\n(Reichsbank).\n\nColmar (probably the _columbarium_ of the Romans) is first mentioned, as\na royal _villa_, in a charter of Louis the Pious in 823, and it was here\nthat Charles the Fat held a diet in 884. It was raised to the status of\na town and surrounded with walls by Wolfelin, advocate (_Landvogt_) of\nthe emperor Frederick II. in Alsace, a masterful and ambitious man,\nwhose accumulated wealth was confiscated by the emperor in 1235, and who\nis said to have been murdered by his wife lest her portion should also\nbe seized. In 1226 Colmar became an imperial city, and the civic rights\n(_Stadtrecht_) conferred on it in 1274 by Rudolph of Habsburg became the\nmodel for those of many other cities. Its civic history is much the same\nas that of other medieval towns: a struggle between the democratic gilds\nand the aristocratic \"families,\" which ended in 1347 in the inclusion of\nthe former in the governing body, and in the 17th century in the\ncomplete exclusion of the latter. In 1255 Colmar joined the league of\nRhenish cities, and in 1476 and 1477 took a vigorous share in the\nstruggle against Charles the Bold. In 1632, during the Thirty Years'\nWar, it was taken by the Swedes, and in 1635 by the French, who held it\ntill after the Peace of Westphalia (1649). In 1673 the French again\noccupied it and dismantled the fortifications. In 1681 it was formally\nannexed to France by a decree of Louis XIV.'s _Chambre de Reunion_, and\nremained French till 1871, when it passed with Alsace-Lorraine to the\nnew German empire.\n\n  See \"Annalen und Chronik von Kolmar,\" German translation, G. H. Pabst,\n  in _Geschichtsschreiber der deutschen Vorzeit_ (2nd ed., G.\n  Wattenbach, Leipzig, 1897); Sigmund Billing, _Kleine Chronik der Stadt\n  Kolmar_ (Colmar, 1891); Hund, _Kolmar vor und wahrend seiner\n  Entwickelung zur Reichsstadt_ (Strassburg, 1899); J. Liblin,\n  _Chronique de Colmar_, 58-1400 (Mulhausen, 1867-1868); T. F. X.\n  Hunkler, _Gesch. der Stadt Kolmar_ (Colmar, 1838). For further\n  references see Ulysse Chevalier, _Repertoire des sources.\n  Topobibliographie_ (Montbeliard, 1894-1899); and Waltz, _Bibliographie\n  de la ville de Colmar_ (Mulhausen, 1902).\n\n\n\n\nCOLNE, a market town and municipal borough in the Clitheroe\nparliamentary division of Lancashire, England, 34-1\/2 m. N. by E. from\nManchester by the Lancashire & Yorkshire railway; it is served also by a\nbranch of the Midland railway from Skipton. Pop. (1901) 23,000. It\nstands on a hilly site above a small affluent of the river Calder. The\nchurch of St Bartholomew retains some Norman work, but is chiefly of\nvarious later periods. There is a cloth hall or piece hall, originally\nused as an exchange when woollens were the staple of the town. The\ngrammar school is of interest as the place where John Tillotson\n(1630-1694), archbishop of Canterbury, received early education. Colne\nis a place of great antiquity, and many Roman coins have been found on\nthe site. As early as the 14th century it was the seat of a woollen\nmanufacture; but its principal manufactures now are cottons, printed\ncalicoes and muslin. In the neighbourhood are several limestone and\nslate quarries. The town was incorporated in 1895, and the corporation\nconsists of a mayor, 6 aldermen and 18 councillors. Area, 5063 acres.\n\n\n\n\nCOLOCYNTH, COLOQUINTIDA or BITTER APPLE, _Citrullus Colocynthis_, a\nplant of the natural order Cucurbitaceae. The flowers are unisexual; the\nmale blossoms have five stamens with sinuous anthers, the female have\nreniform stigmas, and an ovary with three large fleshy placentas. The\nfruit is round, and about the size of an orange; it has a thick\nyellowish rind, and a light, spongy and very bitter pulp, which yields\nthe colocynth of druggists. The seeds, which number from 200 to 300, and\nare disposed in vertical rows on the three parietal placentas of the\nfruit, are flat and ovoid and dark-brown; they are used as food by some\nof the tribes of the Sahara, and a coarse oil is expressed from them.\nThe pulp contains only about 3.5% of fixed oil, whilst the seeds\ncontains about 15%. The foliage resembles that of the cucumber, and the\nroot is perennial. The plant has a wide range, being found in Ceylon,\nIndia, Persia, Arabia, Syria, North Africa, the Grecian Archipelago, the\nCape Verd Islands, and the south-east of Spain. The term _pakkuoth_,\ntranslated \"wild gourds\" in 2 Kings iv. 39, is thought to refer to the\nfruit of the colocynth; but, according to Dr Olaf Celsius (1670-1756), a\nSwedish theologian and naturalist, it signifies a plant known as the\nsquirting cucumber, _Ecbalium Elaterium_.\n\nThe commercial colocynth consists of the peeled and dried fruits. In the\npreparation of the drug, the seeds are always removed from the pulp. Its\nactive principle is an intensely bitter amorphous or crystalline\nglucoside, colocynthin, C56H84O23, soluble in water, ether and\nalcohol, and decomposable by acids into glucose and a resin,\ncolocynthein, C40H54O13. Colocynthein also occurs as such in\nthe drug, together with at least two other resins, citrullin and\ncolocynthiden. Colocynthin has been used as a hypodermic purgative--a\nclass of drugs practically nonexistent, and highly to be desired in\nnumberless cases of apoplexy. The dose recommended for hypodermic\ninjection is fifteen minims of a 1% solution in glycerin.\n\nThe British Pharmacopeia contains a compound extract of colocynth, which\nno one ever uses; a compound pill--dose 4 to 8 grains--in which oil of\ncloves is included in order to relieve the griping caused by the drug;\nand the Pilula Colocynthidis et Hyoscyami, which contains 2 parts of the\ncompound pill to 1 of extract of hyoscyamus. This is by far the best\npreparation, the hyoscyamus being added to prevent the pain and griping\nwhich is attendant on the use of colocynth alone. The official dose of\nthis pill is 4 to 8 grains, but the most effective and least\ndisagreeable manner in which to obtain its action is to give four\ntwo-grain pills at intervals of an hour or so.\n\nIn minute doses colocynth acts simply as a bitter, but is never given\nfor this purpose. In ordinary doses it greatly increases the secretion\nof the small intestine and stimulates its muscular coat. The\ngall-bladder is also stimulated, and the biliary function of the liver,\nso that colocynth is both an excretory and a secretory cholagogue. The\naction which follows hypodermic injection is due to the excretion of the\ndrug from the blood into the alimentary canal. Though colocynth is a\ndrastic hydragogue cathartic, it is desirable, as a rule, to supplement\nits action by some drug, such as aloes, which acts on the large\nintestine, and a sedative must always be added. Owing to its irritant\nproperties, the drug must not be used habitually, but it is very\nvaluable in initiating the treatment of simple chronic constipation, and\nits pharmacological properties obviously render it especially useful in\ncases of hepatitis and congestion of the liver.\n\nColocynth was known to the ancient Greek, Roman and Arabic physicians;\nand in an Anglo-Saxon herbal of the 11th century (Cockayne, _Leechdoms_,\n&c., vol. i. p. 325, London, 1864), the following directions are given\nas to its use:--\"For stirring of the inwards, take the inward neshness\nof the fruit, without the kernels, by weight of two pennies; give it,\npounded in lithe beer to be drunk, it stirreth the inwards.\"\n\n\n\n\nCOLOGNE (Ger. _Koln_, or officially, since 1900, _Coln_), a city and\narchiepiscopal see of Germany, in the Prussian Rhine province, a\nfortress of the first rank, and one of the most important commercial\ntowns of the empire. Pop. (1885) 239,437; (1900) 370,685; (1905)\n428,503, of which about 80% are Roman Catholics. It lies in the form of\na vast semicircle on the left bank of the Rhine, 44 m. by rail\nnorth-east from Aix-la-Chapelle, 24 south-east from Dusseldorf and 57\nnorth-north-west from Coblenz. Its situation on the broad and navigable\nRhine, and at the centre of an extensive network of railways, giving it\ndirect communication with all the important cities of Europe, has\ngreatly fostered its trade, while its close proximity to the beautiful\nscenery of the Rhine, has rendered it a favourite tourist resort. When\nviewed from a distance, especially from the river, the city, with its\nmedieval towers and buildings, the whole surmounted by the majestic\ncathedral, is picturesque and imposing. The ancient walls and ditches,\nwhich formerly environed the city, were dismantled between 1881 and\n1885, and the site of the old fortifications, bought from the government\nby the municipality, were converted into a fine boulevard, the Ring,\nnearly 4 m. long. Beyond the Ring, about 1\/2 m. farther out, a new\ncontinuous line of wall fortifications, with outlying clusters of\nearthworks and forts, has since been erected; 1000 acres, now occupied\nby handsome streets, squares and two public parks, were thus added to\nthe inner town, almost doubling its area.\n\nCologne is connected by bridges with the suburb of Deutz. Within the\nouter municipal boundary are included (besides Deutz) the suburbs of\nBayenthal, Lindenthal, Ehrenfeld, Nippes, Sulz, Bickendorf, Niehl and\nPoll, protected by another widely extended circle of detached forts on\nboth banks of the Rhine. Of the former city gates four have been\nretained, restored and converted into museums: the Severin gate, on the\nsouth, contains the geological section of the natural history museum;\nthe Hahnen gate, on the west, is fitted as the historical and\nantiquarian museum of the city; and the Eigelstein gate, on the north,\naccommodates the zoological section of the natural history museum.\n\nCologne, with the tortuous, narrow and dark streets and lanes of the old\ninner town, is still regarded as one of the least attractive capital\ncities of Germany; but in modern times it has been greatly improved, and\nthe evil smells which formerly characterized it have yielded to proper\nsanitary arrangements. The most important squares are the Domhof, the\nHeumarkt, Neumarkt, Alte Markt and Waidmarkt in the old inner, and the\nHansa-platz in the new inner town. The long Hohe-strasse of the old town\nis the chief business street.\n\nThe cathedral or Dom, the principal edifice and chief object of interest\nin Cologne, is one of the finest and purest monuments of Gothic\narchitecture in Europe (for plan, &c. see ARCHITECTURE: _Romanesque and\nGothic in Germany_). It stands on the site of a cathedral begun about\nthe beginning of the 9th century by Hildebold, metropolitan of Cologne,\nand finished under Willibert in 873. This structure was ruined by the\nNormans, was rebuilt, but in 1248 was almost wholly destroyed by fire.\nThe foundation of the present cathedral was then laid by Conrad of\nHochstaden (archbishop from 1238 to 1261). The original plan of the\nbuilding has been attributed to Gerhard von Rile (d. c. 1295). In 1322\nthe new choir was consecrated, and the bones of the Three Kings were\nremoved to it from the place they had occupied in the former cathedral.\nAfter Conrad's death the work of building advanced but slowly, and at\nthe time of the Reformation it ceased entirely. In the early part of the\n19th century the repairing of the cathedral was taken in hand, in 1842\nthe building of fresh portions necessary for the completion of the whole\nstructure was begun, and on the 15th of October 1880 the edifice,\nfinally finished, was opened in the presence of the emperor William I.\nand all the reigning German princes. The cathedral, which is in the form\nof a cross, has a length of 480, and a breadth of 282 ft.; the height of\nthe central aisle is 154 ft.; that of each of the towers 511 ft. The\nheaviest of the seven bells (_Kaiserglocke_), cast in 1874 from the\nmetal of French guns, weighs 543 cwt., and is the largest and heaviest\nbell that is rung. In the choir the heart of Marie de' Medici is buried;\nand in the adjoining side-chapels are monuments of the founder and other\narchbishops of Cologne, and the shrine of the Three Kings, which is\nadorned with gold and precious stones. The three kings of Cologne\n(Kaspar, Melchior and Balthazar) were supposed to be the three wise men\nwho came from the East to pay adoration to the infant Christ; according\nto the legend, the emperor Frederick I. Barbarossa brought their bones\nfrom Milan in 1162, and had them buried in Cologne cathedral, and\nmiraculous powers of healing were attributed to these relics. The very\nnumerous and richly- windows, presented at various times to the\ncathedral, add greatly to the imposing effect of the interior. The view\nof the cathedral has been much improved by a clearance of the old houses\non the Domhof, including the archiepiscopal palace, but the new Hof,\nthough flanked by many fine buildings, is displeasing owing to the\nintrusion of numerous modern palatial hotels and shops.\n\nAmong the other churches of Cologne, which was fondly styled in the\nmiddle ages the \"holy city\" (_heilige Stadt_) and \"German Rome,\" and,\naccording to legend, possessed as many sacred fanes as there are days in\nthe year, are several of interest both for their age and for the\nmonuments and works of art they contain. In St Peter's are the famous\naltar-piece by Rubens, representing the Crucifixion of St Peter, several\nworks by Lucas van Leyden, and some old German glass-paintings. St\nMartin's, built between the 10th and 12th centuries, has a fine\nbaptistery; St Gereon's, built in the 11th century on the site of a\nRoman rotunda, is noted for its mosaics, and glass and oil-paintings;\nthe Minorite church, begun in the same year as the cathedral, contains\nthe tomb of Duns Scotus. Besides these may be mentioned the church of St\nPantaleon, a 13th-century structure, with a monument to Theophano, wife\nof the emperor Otto II.; St Cunibert, in the Byzantine-Moorish style,\ncompleted in 1248; St Maria im Capitol, the oldest church in Cologne,\ndedicated in 1049 by Pope Leo IX., noted for its crypt, organ and\npaintings; St Cecilia, St Ursula, containing the bones of that saint\nand, according to legend, of the 11,000 English virgins massacred near\nCologne while on a pilgrimage to Rome; St Severin, the church of the\nApostles, and that of St Andrew (1220 and 1414), which contains the\nremains of Albertus Magnus in a gilded shrine. Most of these, and also\nmany other old churches, have been completely restored. Among newer\necclesiastical buildings must be mentioned the handsome Roman Catholic\nchurch in Deutz, completed in 1896, and a large synagogue, in the new\ntown west of the Ring, finished in 1899.\n\nAmong the more prominent secular buildings are the Gurzenich, a former\nmeeting-place of the diets of the Holy Roman Empire, built between 1441\nand 1447, of which the ground floor was in 1875 converted into a stock\nexchange, and the upper hall, capable of accommodating 3000 persons, is\nlargely utilized for public festivities, particularly during the time of\nthe Carnival: the Rathaus, dating from the 13th century, with beautiful\nGobelin tapestries; the Tempelhaus, the ancestral seat of the patrician\nfamily of the Overstolzens, a beautiful building dating from the 13th\ncentury, and now the chamber of commerce; the Wallraf-Richartz Museum,\nin which is a collection of paintings by old Italian and Dutch masters,\ntogether with some works by modern artists; the Zeughaus, or arsenal,\nbuilt on Roman foundations; the Supreme Court for the Rhine provinces;\nthe post-office (1893); the Imperial Bank (Reichsbank); and the\nmunicipal library and archives. The Wolkenburg, a fine Gothic house of\nthe 15th century, originally a patrician residence, was restored in\n1874, and is now the headquarters of the famous men's choral society of\nCologne (Kolner Mannergesangverein).\n\nA handsome central railway station (high level), on the site of the old\nstation, and close to the cathedral, was built in 1889-1894. The railway\nto Bonn and the Upper Rhine now follows the line of the _ceinture_ of\nthe new inner fortifications, and on this section there are three city\nstations in addition to the central. Like all important German towns,\nCologne contains many fine monuments. The most conspicuous is the\ncolossal equestrian statue (22-1\/2 ft. high) of Frederick William III. of\nPrussia in the Heumarkt. There are also monuments to Moltke (1881), to\nCount Johann von Werth (1885), the cavalry leader of the Thirty Years'\nWar, and to Bismarck (1879). Near the cathedral is an archiepiscopal\nmuseum of church antiquities. Cologne is richly endowed with literary\nand scientific institutions. It has an academy of practical medicine, a\ncommercial high school, a theological seminary, four Gymnasia (classical\nschools), numerous lower-grade schools, a conservatory of music and\nseveral high-grade ladies' colleges. Of its three theatres, the\nmunicipal theatre (Stadttheater) is famed for its operatic productions.\n\nCommercially, Cologne is one of the chief centres on the Rhine, and has\na very important trade in corn, wine, mineral ores, coals, drugs, dyes,\nmanufactured wares, groceries, leather and hides, timber, porcelain and\nmany other commodities. A large new harbour, with spacious quays, has\nbeen constructed towards the south of the city. In 1903, the traffic of\nthe port amounted to over one million tons. Industrially, also, Cologne\nis a place of high importance. Of the numerous manufactures, among which\nmay be especially mentioned sugar, chocolate, tobacco and cigars, the\nmost famous is the perfume known as _eau de Cologne_ (q.v.) (_Kolnisches\nWasser_, i.e. Cologne-water).\n\nOf the newspapers published at Cologne the most important is the\n_Kolnische Zeitung_ (often referred to as the \"Cologne Gazette\"), which\nhas the largest circulation of any paper in Germany, and great weight\nand influence. It must be distinguished from the _Kolnische\nVolkszeitung_, which is the organ of the Clerical party in the Prussian\nRhine provinces.\n\n_History._--Cologne occupies the site of _Oppidum Ubiorum_, the chief\ntown of the Ubii, and here in A.D. 50 a Roman colony, _Colonia_, was\nplanted by the emperor Claudius, at the request of his wife Agrippina,\nwho was born in the place. After her it was named Colonia Agrippina or\nAgrippinensis. Cologne rose to be the chief town of Germania Secunda,\nand had the privilege of the Jus Italicum. Both Vitellius and Trajan\nwere at Cologne when they became emperors. About 330 the city was taken\nby the Franks but was not permanently occupied by them till the 5th\ncentury, becoming in 475 the residence of the Frankish king Childeric.\nIt was the seat of a _pagus_ or _gau_, and counts of Cologne are\nmentioned in the 9th century.\n\nThe succession of bishops in Cologne is traceable, except for a gap\ncovering the troubled 5th century, from A.D. 313, when the see was\nfounded. It was made the metropolitan see for the bishoprics of the\nLower Rhine and part of Westphalia by Charlemagne, the first archbishop\nbeing Hildebold, who occupied the see from 785 to his death in 819. Of\nhis successors one of the most illustrious was Bruno (q.v.), brother of\nthe emperor Otto I., archbishop from 953 to 965, who was the first of\nthe archbishops to exercise temporal jurisdiction, and was also\n\"archduke\" of Lorraine. The territorial power of the archbishops was\nalready great when, in 1180, on the partition of the Saxon duchy, the\nduchy of Westphalia was assigned to them. In the 11th century they\nbecame _ex-officio_ arch-chancellors of Italy (see ARCHCHANCELLOR), and\nby the Golden Bull of 1356 they were finally placed among the electors\n(_Kurfursten_) of the Empire. With Cologne itself, a free imperial city,\nthe archbishop-electors were at perpetual feud; in 1262 the\narchiepiscopal see was transferred to Bruhl, and in 1273 to Bonn; it was\nnot till 1671 that the quarrel was finally adjusted. The archbishopric\nwas secularized in 1801, all its territories on the left bank of the\nRhine being annexed to France; in 1803 those on the right bank were\ndivided up among various German states; and in 1815 by the congress of\nVienna, the whole was assigned to Prussia. The last archbishop-elector,\nMaximilian of Austria, died in 1801.\n\nIn Archbishop Hildebold's day Cologne was still contained by the square\nof its Roman walls, within which stood the cathedral and the\nnewly-founded church of St Maria (known later as \"im Capitol\"); the city\nwas, however, surrounded by a ring of churches, among which those of St\nGereon, St Ursula, St Severin and St Cunibert were conspicuous. In 881\nNorman pirates, sailing up the Rhine, took and sacked the city; but it\nrapidly recovered, and in the 11th century had become the chief trading\ncentre of Germany. Early in the 12th century the city was enlarged by\nthe inclusion of suburbs of Oversburg; Niederich and St Aposteln; in\n1180 these were enclosed in a permanent rampart which, in the 13th\ncentury, was strengthened with the walls and gates that survived till\nthe 19th century.\n\nThe municipal history of Cologne is of considerable interest. In general\nit follows the same lines as that of other cities of Lower Germany and\nthe Netherlands. At first the bishop ruled through his burgrave,\nadvocate, and nominated jurats (_scabini_, _Schoffen_). Then, as the\ntrading classes grew in wealth, his jurisdiction began to be disputed;\nthe _conjuratio pro libertate_ of 1112 seems to have been an attempt to\nestablish a commune (see Commune, Medieval). Peculiar to Cologne,\nhowever, was the _Richerzeche_ (_rigirzegheide_), a corporation of all\nthe wealthy patricians, which gradually absorbed in its hands the\ndirection of the city's government (the first record of its active\ninterference is in 1225). In the 13th century the archbishops made\nrepeated efforts to reassert their authority, and in 1259 Archbishop\nConrad of Hochstaden, by appealing to the democratic element of the\npopulation, the \"brotherhoods\" (_fraternitates_) of the craftsmen,\nsucceeded in overthrowing the Richerzeche and driving its members into\nexile. His successor, Engelbert II., however, attempted to overthrow the\ndemocratic constitution set up by him, with the result that in 1262 the\nbrotherhoods combined with the patricians against the archbishop, and\nthe Richerzeche returned to share its authority with the elected \"great\ncouncil\" (_Weiter Rat_). As yet, however, none of the trade or craft\ngilds, as such, had a share in the government, which continued in the\nhands of the patrician families, membership of which was necessary even\nfor election to the council and to the parochial offices. This continued\nlong after the battle of Worringen (1288) had finally secured for the\ncity full self-government, and the archbishops had ceased to reside\nwithin its walls. In the 14th century a narrow patrician council\nselected from the Richerzeche, with two burgomasters, was supreme. In\n1370 an insurrection of the weavers was suppressed; but in 1396, the\nrule of the patricians, having been weakened by internal dissensions, a\nbloodless revolution led to the establishment of a comparatively\ndemocratic constitution, based on the organization of the trade and\ncraft gilds, which lasted with but slight modification till the French\nRevolution.\n\nThe greatness of Cologne, in the middle ages as now, was due to her\ntrade. Wine and herrings were the chief articles of her commerce; but\nher weavers had been in repute from time immemorial, and exports of\ncloth were large, while her goldsmiths and armourers were famous. So\nearly as the 11th century her merchants were settled in London, their\ncolony forming the nucleus of the Steelyard. When, in 1201, the city\njoined the Hanseatic League (q.v.) its power and repute were so great\nthat it was made the chief place of a third of the confederation.\n\nIn spite of their feuds with the archbishops, the burghers of Cologne\nwere stanch Catholics, and the number of the magnificent medieval\nchurches left is evidence at once of their piety and their wealth. The\nuniversity, founded in 1389 by the sole efforts of the citizens, soon\ngained a great reputation; in the 15th century its students numbered\nmuch more than a thousand, and its influence extended to Scotland and\nthe Scandinavian kingdoms. Its decline began, however, from the moment\nwhen the Catholic sentiment of the city closed it to the influence of\nthe Reformers; the number of its students sank to vanishing point, and\nthough, under the influence of the Jesuits, it subsequently revived, it\nnever recovered its old importance. A final blow was dealt it when, in\n1777, the enlightened archbishop Maximilian Frederick (d. 1784) founded\nthe university of Bonn, and in 1798, amid the confusion of the\nrevolutionary epoch, it ceased to exist.\n\nThe same intolerance that ruined the university all but ruined the city\ntoo. It is difficult, indeed, to blame the burghers for resisting the\ndubious reforming efforts of Hermann of Wied, archbishop from 1515 to\n1546, inspired mainly by secular ambitions; but the expulsion of the\nJews in 1414, and still more the exclusion, under Jesuit influence, of\nProtestants from the right to acquire citizenship, and from the\nmagistracy, dealt severe blows at the prosperity of the place. A variety\nof other causes contributed to its decay: the opening up of new trade\nroutes, the gradual ossification of the gilds into close and corrupt\ncorporations, above all the wars in the Netherlands, the Thirty Years'\nWar, and the Wars of the Spanish and Austrian Succession. When in 1794\nCologne was occupied by the French, it was a poor and decayed city of\nsome 40,000 inhabitants, of whom only 6000 possessed civic rights. When,\nin 1801, by the treaty of Luneville, it was incorporated in France, it\nwas not important enough to be more than the chief town of an\narrondissement. On the death of the last elector in 1801 the\narchiepiscopal see was left vacant. With the assignment of the city to\nPrussia by the congress of Vienna in 1815 a new era of prosperity began.\nThe university, indeed, was definitively established at Bonn, but the\narchbishopric was restored (1821) as part of the new ecclesiastical\norganization of Prussia, and the city became the seat of the president\nof a governmental district. Its prosperity now rapidly increased; when\nrailways were introduced it became the meeting-place of several lines,\nand in 1881 its growth necessitated the pushing outward of the circle of\nfortifications.\n\n  See L. Ennen, _Gesch. der Stadt Koln_ (5 vols., Cologne, 1863-1880) to\n  1648, and _Frankreich und der Niederrhein_ (2 vols., ib., 1855, 1856),\n  a history of the city and electorate of Cologne since the Thirty\n  Years' War; R. Schultze and C. Steuernagel, _Colonia Agrippinensis_\n  (Bonn, 1895); K. Heldmann, _Der Kolngau und die Civitas Koln_ (Halle,\n  1900); L. Korth, _Koln im Mittelalter_ (Cologne, 1890); F. Lau,\n  _Entwickelung der kommunalen Verfassung der Stadt Koln bis zum Jahre\n  1396_ (Bonn, 1898); K. Hegel, _Stadte und Gilden der germanischen\n  Volker im Mittelalter_ (2 vols., Leipzig, 1891), ii. p. 323; H.\n  Keussen, _Historische Topographie der Stadt Koln im Mittelalter_\n  (Bonn, 1906); W. Behnke, _Aus Kolns Franzosenzeit_ (Cologne, 1901);\n  Helmken, _Koln und seine Sehenswurdigkeiten_ (20th ed., Cologne,\n  1903). For sources see L. Ennen and G. Eckertz, _Quellen zur\n  Geschichte der Stadt Koln_ (6 vols., Cologne, 1860-1879); later\n  sources will be found in U. Chevalier, _Repertoire des sources hist.\n  Topo-bibliographie_ (Montbeliard, 1894-1899), s.v. Cologne, which\n  gives also a full list of works on everything connected with the city;\n  also in Dahlmann-Waitz, _Quellenkunde_ (ed. Leipzig, 1906), p. 17,\n  Nos. 252, 253. For the archdiocese and electorate of Cologne see\n  Binterim and Mooren, _Die Erzdiozese Koln bis zur franzosischen\n  Staatsumwalzung_, new ed. by A. Mooren in 2 vols. (Dusseldorf, 1892,\n  1893).\n\n\n\n\nCOLOMAN (1070-1116), king of Hungary, was the son of King Geza of\nHungary by a Greek concubine. King Ladislaus would have made the\nbook-loving youth a monk, and even designated him for the see of Eger;\nbut Coloman had no inclination for an ecclesiastical career, and, with\nthe assistance of his friends, succeeded in escaping to Poland. On the\ndeath of Ladislaus (1095), he returned to Hungary and seized the crown,\npassing over his legitimately born younger brother Almos, the son of the\nGreek princess Sinadene. Almos did not submit to this usurpation, and\nwas more or less of an active rebel till 1108, when the emperor Henry V.\nespoused his cause and invaded Hungary. The Germans were unsuccessful;\nbut Coloman thought fit to be reconciled with his kinsman and restored\nto him his estates. Five years later, however, fearing lest his brother\nmight stand in the way of his heir, the infant prince Stephen, Coloman\nimprisoned Almos and his son Bela in a monastery and had them blinded.\nDespite his adoption of these barbarous Byzantine methods, Coloman was a\ngood king and a wise ruler. In foreign affairs he preserved the policy\nof St Ladislaus by endeavouring to provide Hungary with her greatest\nneed, a suitable seaboard. In 1097 he overthrew Peter, king of Croatia,\nand acquired the greater part of Dalmatia, though here he encountered\nformidable rivals in the Greek and German emperors, Venice, the pope and\nthe Norman-Italian dukes, all equally interested in the fate of that\nprovince, so that Coloman had to proceed cautiously in his expansive\npolicy. By 1102, however, Zara, Trau, Spalato and all the islands as far\nas the Cetina were in his hands. But it was as a legislator and\nadministrator that Coloman was greatest (see HUNGARY: _History_). He was\nnot only one of the most learned, but also one of the most statesmanlike\nsovereigns of the earlier middle ages. Coloman was twice married, (1)\nin 1097 to Buzella, daughter of Roger, duke of Calabria, the chief\nsupporter of the pope, and (2) in 1112 to the Russian princess,\nEuphemia, who played him false and was sent back in disgrace to her\nkinsfolk the following year. Coloman died on the 3rd of February 1116.\n\n\n\n\nCOLOMB, PHILIP HOWARD (1831-1899), British vice-admiral, historian,\ncritic and inventor, the son of General G. T. Colomb, was born in\nScotland, on the 29th of May 1831. He entered the navy in 1846, and\nserved first at sea off Portugal in 1847; afterwards, in 1848, in the\nMediterranean, and from 1848 to 1851 as midshipman of the \"Reynard\" in\noperations against piracy in Chinese waters; as midshipman and mate of\nthe \"Serpent\" during the Burmese War of 1852-53; as mate of the\n\"Phoenix\" in the Arctic Expedition of 1854; as lieutenant of the\n\"Hastings\" in the Baltic during the Russian War, taking part in the\nattack on Sveaborg. He became what was known at that time as a \"gunner's\nlieutenant\" in 1857, and from 1859 to 1863 he served as flag-lieutenant\nto rear-admiral Sir Thomas Pasley at Devonport. Between 1858 and 1868 he\nwas employed in home waters on a variety of special services, chiefly\nconnected with gunnery, signalling and the tactical characteristics and\ncapacities of steam warships. From 1868 to 1870 he commanded the\n\"Dryad,\" and was engaged in the suppression of the slave trade. In 1874,\nwhile captain of the \"Audacious,\" he served for three years as\nflag-captain to vice-admiral Ryder in China; and finally he was\nappointed, in 1880, to command the \"Thunderer\" in the Mediterranean.\nNext year he was appointed captain of the steam reserve at Portsmouth;\nand after serving three years in that capacity, he remained at\nPortsmouth as flag-captain to the commander-in-chief until 1886, when he\nwas retired by superannuation before he had attained flag rank.\nSubsequently he became rear-admiral, and finally vice-admiral on the\nretired list.\n\nFew men of his day had seen more active and more varied service than\nColomb. But the real work on which his title to remembrance rests is the\ninfluence he exercised on the thought and practice of the navy. He was\none of the first to perceive the vast changes which must ensue from the\nintroduction of steam into the navy, which would necessitate a new\nsystem of signals and a new method of tactics. He set himself to devise\nthe former as far back as 1858, but his system of signals was not\nadopted by the navy until 1867.\n\nWhat he had done for signals Colomb next did for tactics. Having first\ndetermined by experiment--for which he was given special facilities by\nthe admiralty--what are the manoeuvring powers of ships propelled by\nsteam under varying conditions of speed and helm, he proceeded to devise\na system of tactics based on these data. In the sequel he prepared a new\nevolutionary signal-book, which was adopted by the royal navy, and still\nremains in substance the foundation of the existing system of tactical\nevolutions at sea. The same series of experimental studies led him to\nconclusions concerning the chief causes of collisions at sea; and these\nconclusions, though stoutly combated in many quarters at the outset,\nhave since been generally accepted, and were ultimately embodied in the\ninternational code of regulations adopted by the leading maritime\nnations on the recommendation of a conference at Washington in 1889.\n\nAfter his retirement Colomb devoted himself rather to the history of\nnaval warfare, and to the large principles disclosed by its intelligent\nstudy, than to experimental inquiries having an immediate practical aim.\nAs in his active career he had wrought organic changes in the ordering,\ndirection and control of fleets, so by his historic studies, pursued\nafter his retirement, he helped greatly to effect, if he did not\nexclusively initiate, an equally momentous change in the popular, and\neven the professional, way of regarding sea-power and its conditions. He\ndid not invent the term \"sea-power,\"--it is, as is shown elsewhere (see\nSEA-POWER), of very ancient origin,--nor did he employ it until Captain\nMahan had made it a household word with all. But he thoroughly grasped\nits conditions, and in his great work on naval warfare (first published\nin 1891) he enunciated its principles with great cogency and with keen\nhistoric insight. The central idea of his teaching was that naval\nsupremacy is the condition precedent of all vigorous military offensive\nacross the seas, and, conversely, that no vigorous military offensive\ncan be undertaken across the seas until the naval force of the enemy has\nbeen accounted for--either destroyed or defeated and compelled to\nwithdraw to the shelter of its own ports, or at least driven from the\nseas by the menace of a force it dare not encounter in the open. This\nbroad and indefeasible principle he enunciated and defended in essay\nafter essay, in lecture after lecture, until what at first was rejected\nas a paradox came in the end to be accepted as a commonplace. He worked\nquite independently of Captain Mahan, and his chief conclusions were\npublished before Captain Mahan's works appeared.\n\nHe died quite suddenly and in the full swing of his literary activity on\nthe 13th of October 1899, at Steeple Court, Botley, Hants. His latest\npublished work was a biography of his friend Sir Astley Cooper Key, and\nhis last article was a critical examination of the tactics adopted at\nTrafalgar, which showed his acumen and insight at their best.\n\nHis younger brother, SIR JOHN COLOMB (1838-1909), was closely associated\nin the pioneer work done for British naval strategy and Imperial\ndefence, and his name stands no less high among those who during this\nperiod promoted accurate thinking on the subject of sea-power. Entering\nthe Royal Marines in 1854, he rose to be captain in 1867, retiring in\n1869; and thenceforth he devoted himself to the study of naval and\nmilitary problems, on which he had already published some excellent\nessays. His books on _Colonial Defence and Colonial Opinions_ (1873),\n_The Defence of Great and Greater Britain_ (1879), _Naval Intelligence\nand the Protection of Commerce_ (1881), _The Use and the Application of\nMarine Forces_ (1883), _Imperial Federation: Naval and Military_ (1887),\nfollowed later by other similar works, made him well known among the\nrising school of Imperialists, and he was returned to parliament\n(1886-1892) as Conservative member for Bow, and afterwards (1895-1906)\nfor Great Yarmouth. In 1887 he was created C.M.G., and in 1888 K.C.M.G.\nHe died in London on the 27th of May 1909. In Kerry, Ireland, he was a\nlarge landowner, and became a member of the Irish privy council (1903),\nand in 1906 he sat on the Royal Commission dealing with congested\ndistricts.\n\n\n\n\nCOLOMBES, a town of France in the department of Seine, arrondissement of\nSt Denis, 7 m. N.N.W. of Paris. Pop. (1906) 28,920. It has a\n16th-century church with 12th-century tower, a race-course, and numerous\nvilla residences and boarding-schools. Manufactures include oil, vinegar\nand measuring-instruments. A castle formerly stood here, in which died\nHenrietta Maria, queen of Charles I. of England.\n\n\n\n\nCOLOMBEY, a village of Lorraine, 4 m. E. of Metz, famous as the scene of\na battle between the Germans and the French fought on the 14th of August\n1870. It is often called the battle of Borny, from another village 2-1\/2 m.\nE. of Metz. (See METZ and FRANCO-GERMAN WAR.)\n\n\n\n\nCOLOMBIA, a republic of South America occupying the N.W. angle of that\ncontinent and bounded N. by the Caribbean Sea and Venezuela, E. by\nVenezuela and Brazil, S. by Brazil, Peru and Ecuador, and W. by Ecuador,\nthe Pacific Ocean, Panama and the Caribbean Sea. The republic is very\nirregular in outline and has an extreme length from north to south of\n1050 m., exclusive of territory occupied by Peru on the north bank of\nthe upper Amazon, and an extreme width of 860 m. The approximate area of\nthis territory, according to official calculations, is 481,979 sq. m.,\nwhich is reduced to 465,733 sq. m. by Gotha planimetrical measurements.\nThis makes Colombia fourth in area among the South American states.\n\nThe loss of the department of Panama left the republic with unsettled\nfrontiers on every side, and some of the boundary disputes still\nunsolved in 1909 concern immense areas of territory. The boundary with\nCosta Rica was settled in 1900 by an award of the President of France,\nbut the secession of Panama in 1903 gave Colombia another unsettled line\non the north-west. If the line which formerly separated the Colombian\ndepartments of Cauca and Panama is taken as forming the international\nboundary, this line follows the water-parting between the streams which\nflow eastward to the Atrato, and those which flow westward to the Gulf\nof San Miguel, the terminal points being near Cape Tiburon on the\nCaribbean coast, and at about 7 deg. 10' N. lat. on the Pacific coast.\nThe boundary dispute with Venezuela was referred in 1883 to the king of\nSpain, and the award was made in 1891. Venezuela, however, refused to\naccept the decision. The line decided upon, and accepted by Colombia,\nstarts from the north shore of Calabozo Bay on the west side of the Gulf\nof Maracaibo, and runs west and south-west to and along the\nwater-parting (Sierra de Perija) between the drainage basins of the\nMagdalena and Lake Maracaibo as far as the source in lat. 8 deg. 50' N.\nof a small branch of the Catatumbo river, thence in a south-easterly\ndirection across the Catatumbo and Zulia rivers to a point in 72 deg.\n30' W. long., 8 deg. 12' N. lat., thence in an irregular southerly\ndirection across the Cordillera de Merida to the source of the Sarare,\nwhence it runs eastward along that river, the Arauca, and the Meta to\nthe Orinoco. Thence the line runs south and south-east along the\nOrinoco, Atabapo and Guainia to the Pedra de Cucuhy, which serves as a\nboundary mark for three republics. Of the eastern part of the territory\nlying between the Meta and the Brazilian frontier, Venezuela claims as\nfar west as the meridian of 69 deg. 10'. Negotiations for the settlement\nof the boundary with Brazil (q.v.) were resumed in 1906, and were\nadvanced in the following year to an agreement providing for the\nsettlement of conflicting claims by a mixed commission. With Ecuador and\nPeru the boundary disputes are extremely complicated, certain parts of\nthe disputed territory being claimed by all three republics. Colombia\nholds possession as far south as the Napo in lat. 2 deg. 47' S., and\nclaims territory occupied by Peru as far south as the Amazon. On the\nother hand Peru claims as far north as La Chorrera in 0 deg. 49' S.\nlat., including territory occupied by Colombia, and the eastern half of\nthe Ecuadorean department of Oriente, and Ecuador would extend her\nsouthern boundary line to the Putumayo, in long. 71 deg. 1' S., and make\nthat river her northern boundary as far north as the Peruvian claim\nextends. The provisional line starts from the Japura river (known as the\nCaqueta in Colombia) in lat. 1 deg. 30' S., long. 69 deg. 24' W., and\nruns south-west to the 70th meridian, thence slightly north of west to\nthe Igaraparana river, thence up that stream to the Peruvian military\npost of La Chorrera, in 0 deg. 49' S. lat., thence west of south to\nHuiririmachico, on the Napo. Thence the line runs north-west along the\nNapo, Coca and San Francisco rivers to the Andean watershed, which\nbecomes the dividing line northward for a distance of nearly 80 m.,\nwhere the line turns westward and reaches the Pacific at the head of\nPanguapi Bay, into which the southern outlet of the Mira river\ndischarges (about 1 deg. 34' N. lat.).\n\n  _Physical Geography._--Colombia is usually described as an extremely\n  mountainous country, which is true of much less than half its total\n  area. Nearly one half its area lies south-east of the Andes and\n  consists of extensive _llanos_ and forested plains, traversed by\n  several of the western tributaries of the Amazon and Orinoco. These\n  plains <DW72> gently toward the east, those of the Amazon basin\n  apparently lying in great terraces whose escarpments have the\n  character of low, detached ranges of hills forming successive rims to\n  the great basin which they partly enclose. The elevation and <DW72> of\n  this immense region, which has an approximate length of 640 m. and\n  average width of 320 m., may be inferred from the elevations of the\n  Caqueta, or Japura river, which was explored by Crevaux in 1878-1879.\n  At Santa Maria, near the Cordillera (about 75 deg. 30' W. long.), the\n  elevation is 613 ft. above sea-level, on the 73rd meridian it is 538\n  ft., and near the 70th meridian 426 ft.--a fall of 187 ft. in a\n  distance of about 400 m. The northern part of this great region has a\n  somewhat lower elevation and gentler <DW72>, and consists of open\n  grassy plains, which are within the zone of alternating wet and dry\n  seasons. In the south and toward the great lower basin of the Amazon,\n  where the rainfall is continuous throughout the year, the plains are\n  heavily forested. The larger part of this territory is unexplored\n  except along the principal rivers, and is inhabited by scattered\n  tribes of Indians. Near the Cordilleras and along some of the larger\n  rivers there are a few small settlements of whites and mestizos, but\n  their aggregate number is small and their economic value to the\n  republic is inconsiderable. There are some cattle ranges on the open\n  plains, however, but they are too isolated to have much importance. A\n  small part of the northern Colombia, on the lower courses of the\n  Atrato and Magdalena, extending across the country from the Eastern\n  to the Western Cordilleras with a varying width of 100 to 150 m., not\n  including the lower river basins which penetrate much farther inland,\n  also consists of low, alluvial plains, partly covered with swamps and\n  intricate watercourses, densely overgrown with vegetation, but in\n  places admirably adapted to different kinds of tropical agriculture.\n  These plains are broken in places by low ranges of hills which are\n  usually occupied by the principal industrial settlements of this part\n  of the republic, the lower levels being for the most part swampy and\n  unsuited for white occupation.\n\n  [Illustration: COLOMBIA]\n\n  The other part of the republic, which may be roughly estimated at\n  two-fifths of its total area, consists of an extremely rugged\n  mountainous country, traversed from south to north by the parallel\n  river valleys of the Magdalena, Cauca and Atrato. The mountain chains\n  which cover this part of Colombia are the northern terminal ranges of\n  the great Andean system. In northern Ecuador the Andes narrows into a\n  single massive range which has the character of a confused mass of\n  peaks and ridges on the southern frontier of Colombia. There are\n  several lofty plateaus in this region which form a huge central\n  watershed for rivers flowing east to the Amazon, west to the Pacific,\n  and north to the Caribbean Sea. The higher plateaus are called\n  _paramos_, cold, windswept, mist-drenched deserts, lying between the\n  elevations of 10,000 and 15,000 ft., which are often the only passes\n  over the Cordilleras, and yet are almost impassable because of their\n  morasses, heavy mists, and cold, piercing winds. The _paramos_ of Cruz\n  Verde (11,695 ft.) and Pasto, and the volcanoes of Chiles (15,900\n  ft.), Chumbul (15,715 ft.), and Pasto (13,990 ft.) are prominent\n  landmarks of this desolate region. North of this great plateau the\n  Andes divides into three great ranges, the Western, Central and\n  Eastern Cordilleras. The Central is the axis of the system, is\n  distinguished by a line of lofty volcanoes and _paramos_, some of\n  which show their white mantles 2000 to 3000 ft. above the line of\n  perpetual snow (approx. 15,000 ft. in this latitude), and is sometimes\n  distinguished with the name borne by the republic for the time being.\n  This range runs in a north-north-east direction and separates the\n  valleys of the Magdalena and Cauca, terminating in some low hills\n  south-west of El Banco, a small town on the lower Magdalena. The\n  principal summits of this range are Tajumbina (13,534 ft.), Pan de\n  Azucar (15,978 ft.), Purace (15,420 ft.), Sotara (15,420 ft.), Huila\n  (over 18,000 ft.), Tolima (18,432 ft.), Santa Isabel (16,700 ft.),\n  Ruiz (18,373 ft.), and Mesa de Herveo (18,300 ft.). The last named\n  affords a magnificent spectacle from Bogota, its level top which is 5\n  or 6 m. across, and is formed by the rim of an immense crater, having\n  the appearance of a table, down the sides of which for more than 3000\n  ft. hangs a spotless white drapery of perpetual snow. The Western\n  Cordillera branches from the main range first and follows the coast\n  very closely as far north as the 4th parallel, where the San Juan and\n  Atrato rivers, though flowing in opposite directions and separated\n  near the 5th parallel by a low transverse ridge, combine to interpose\n  valleys between it and the Cordillera de Baudo, which thereafter\n  becomes the true coast range. It then forms the divide between the\n  Cauca and Atrato valleys, and terminates near the Caribbean coast. The\n  general elevation of this range is lower than that of the others, its\n  culminating points being the volcano Munchique (11,850 ft.)and Cerro\n  Leon (10,847 ft.). The range is covered with vegetation and its\n  Pacific <DW72>s are precipitous and humid. The Cordillera de Baudo,\n  which becomes the coast range above lat. 4 deg. N., is the southern\n  extension of the low mountainous chain forming the backbone of the\n  Isthmus of Panama, and may be considered the southern termination of\n  the great North American system. Its elevations are low and heavily\n  wooded. It divides on the Panama frontier, the easterly branch forming\n  the watershed between the Atrato and the rivers of eastern Panama, and\n  serving as the frontier between the two republics. The passes across\n  these ranges are comparatively low, but they are difficult because of\n  the precipitous character of their Pacific <DW72>s and the density of\n  the vegetation on them. The Eastern Cordillera is in some respects the\n  most important of the three branches of the Colombian Andes. Its\n  general elevation is below that of the Central Cordillera, and it has\n  few summits rising above the line of perpetual snow, the highest being\n  the Sierra Nevada de Cocui, in lat. 6 deg. 30' N. Between Cocui and the\n  southern frontier of Colombia there are no noteworthy elevations\n  except the so-called Paramo de Suma Paz near Bogota, the highest point\n  of which is 14,146 ft. above sea-level, and the Chita _paramo_, or\n  range, north-east of Bogota (16,700 ft.). Between the 5th and 6th\n  parallels the range divides into two branches, the eastern passing\n  into Venezuela, where it is called the Cordillera de Merida, and the\n  northern continuing north and north-east as the Sierra de Perija and\n  the Sierra de Oca, to terminate at the north-eastern extremity of the\n  Goajira peninsula. The culminating point in the first-mentioned range\n  is the Cerro Pintado (11,800 ft.). West of this range, and lying\n  between the 10th parallel and the Caribbean coast, is a remarkable\n  group of lofty peaks and knotted ranges known as the Sierra Nevada de\n  Santa Marta, the highest snow-crowned summit of which rises 17,389 ft.\n  above the sea according to some, and 16,728 according to other\n  authorities. This group of mountains, covering an approximate area of\n  6500 sq. m., lies immediately on the coast, and its highest summits\n  were long considered inaccessible. It stands detached from the lower\n  ranges of the Eastern Cordillera, and gives the impression that it is\n  essentially independent. The eastern Cordillera region is noteworthy\n  for its large areas of plateau and elevated valley within the limits\n  of the vertical temperate zone. In this region is to be found the\n  greater part of the white population, the best products of Colombian\n  civilization, and the greatest industrial development. The \"sabana\" of\n  Bogota is a good illustration of the higher of these plateaus (8563\n  ft., according to Stieler's _Hand-Atlas_), with its mild temperature,\n  inexhaustible fertility and numerous productions of the temperate\n  zone. It has an area of about 2000 sq. m. The lower valleys, plateaus\n  and mountain <DW72>s of this range are celebrated for their coffee,\n  which, with better means of transportation, would be a greater source\n  of prosperity for the republic than the gold-mines of Antioquia. The\n  mountainous region of Colombia is subject to volcanic disturbances and\n  earthquake shocks are frequent, especially in the south. These shocks,\n  however, are less severe than in Venezuela or in Ecuador.\n\n\n    Islands.\n\n  There are few islands on the coast of Colombia, and the great majority\n  of these are too small to appear on the maps in general use. Gorgona\n  is one of the larger islands on the Pacific coast, and is situated\n  about 25 m. from the mainland in lat. 3 deg. N. It is 5-3\/4 m. long by\n  1-3\/4 m. wide, and rises to an extreme elevation of 1296 ft. above\n  sea-level. It is a beautiful island, and is celebrated as one of\n  Pizarro's stopping places. It has been used by the Colombian\n  government for political offenders. Malpelo island, 282 m. west by\n  south of Charambira point, in lat. 3 deg. 40' N., long. 81 deg. 24'\n  W., nominally belongs to Colombia. It is a small, rocky, uninhabited\n  island, rising to an elevation of 846 ft. above the sea, and has no\n  ascertained value. The famous Pearl islands of the Gulf of Panama are\n  claimed by Colombia, and their pearl oyster fisheries are considered a\n  rentable asset by the government. The group covers an area of about\n  450 sq. m., and consists of 16 islands and several rocks. The largest\n  is Rey Island, which is about 17 m. long, north to south, and 8 m.\n  broad, with an extreme elevation of 600 ft. The other larger islands\n  are San Jose, Pedro Gonzales, Casaya, Saboga and Pacheca. There are\n  several fishing villages whose inhabitants are largely engaged in the\n  pearl fisheries, and a number of cocoa-nut plantations. The islands\n  belong chiefly to Panama merchants. There are several groups of small\n  islands on the northern coast, and a few small islands so near the\n  mainland as to form sheltered harbours, as at Cartagena. The largest\n  of these islands is Baru, lying immediately south of the entrance to\n  Cartagena harbour. North-west of Colombia in the Caribbean Sea are\n  several small islands belonging to the republic, two of which (Great\n  and Little Corn Is.) lie very near the coast of Nicaragua. The largest\n  and most important of these islands is Vieja Providencia (Old\n  Providence), 120 m. off the Mosquito Coast, 4-1\/2 m. long, which\n  supports a small population.\n\n\n    Rivers.\n\n  The rivers of Colombia may be divided, for convenience of description,\n  into three general classes according to the destination of their\n  waters, the Pacific, Caribbean and Atlantic--the last reaching their\n  destination through the Amazon and Orinoco. Of these, the Caribbean\n  rivers are of the greatest economic importance to the country, though\n  those of the eastern plains may at some time become nearly as\n  important as transportation routes in a region possessing forest\n  products of great importance and rich in agricultural and pastoral\n  possibilities. It is worthy of note that the principal rivers of these\n  three classes--the Patia, Cauca, Magdalena, Caqueta and Putumayo--all\n  have their sources on the high plateaus of southern Colombia and\n  within a comparatively limited area. The Pacific coast rivers are\n  numerous, and discharge a very large volume of water into the ocean in\n  proportion to the area of their drainage basins, because of the heavy\n  rainfall on the western <DW72>s of the Coast range. The proximity of\n  this range to the coast limits them to short, precipitous courses,\n  with comparatively short navigable channels. The principal rivers of\n  this group, starting from the southern frontier, are the Mira, Patia,\n  Iscuande, Micai, Buenaventura or Dagua, San Juan and Baudo. The Mira\n  has its principal sources in Ecuador, and for a short distance forms\n  the boundary line between the two republics, but its outlets and\n  navigable channel are within Colombia. It has a large delta in\n  proportion to the length of the river, which is visible evidence of\n  the very large quantity of material brought down from the neighbouring\n  mountain <DW72>s. The Patia is the longest river of the Pacific group,\n  and is the only one having its sources on the eastern side of the\n  Western Cordillera. It is formed by the confluence of the Sotara and\n  Guaitara at the point where the united streams turn westward to cut\n  their way through the mountains to the sea. The Sotara or upper Patia\n  rises on the southern <DW72> of a transverse ridge or <DW18>, between the\n  Central and Western Cordilleras, in the vicinity of Popayan, and flows\n  southward about 120 m. to the point of confluence with the Guaitara.\n  The latter has its sources on the elevated plateau of Tuquerres and\n  flows north-west to meet the Sotara. The canyon of the Patia through\n  the Western Cordillera is known as the \"Minima gorge,\" and has been\n  cut to a depth of 1676 ft., above which the perpendicular mountain\n  sides rise like a wall some thousands of feet more. The upper course\n  of the Guaitara is known as the Carchi, which for a short distance\n  forms the boundary line between Colombia and Ecuador. At one point in\n  its course it is crossed by the Rumichaca arch, a natural arch of\n  stone, popularly known as the \"Inca's bridge,\" which with the Minima\n  gorge should be classed among the natural wonders of the world. There\n  is a narrow belt of low, swampy country between the Cordillera and the\n  coast, traversed at intervals by mountain spurs, and across this the\n  river channels are usually navigable. The San Juan has built a large\n  delta at its mouth, and is navigable for a distance of 140 m. inland,\n  the river flowing parallel with the coast for a long distance instead\n  of crossing the coastal plain. It rises in the angle between the\n  Western Cordillera and a low transverse ridge connecting it with the\n  Baudo coast range, and flows westward down to the valley between the\n  two ranges, and then southward through this valley to about lat. 4 deg.\n  15' N., where it turns sharply westward and crosses a narrow belt of\n  lowland to the coast. It probably has the largest discharge of water\n  of the Pacific group, and has about 300 m. of navigable channels,\n  including its tributaries, although the river itself is only 190 m.\n  long and the sand-bars at its mouth have only 7 or 8 ft. of water on\n  them. The San Juan is distinguished for having been one of the\n  proposed routes for a ship canal between the Caribbean and Pacific.\n  At one point in its upper course it is so near the Atrato that,\n  according to a survey by Captain C. S. Cochrane, R.N., in 1824, a\n  canal 400 yds. long with a maximum cutting of 70 ft., together with\n  some improvements in the two streams, would give free communication.\n  His calculations were made, of course, for the smaller craft of that\n  time.\n\n  The rivers belonging to the Caribbean system, all of which flow in a\n  northerly direction, are the Atrato, Bacuba, Sinu, Magdalena and\n  Zulia. The Bacuba, Suriquilla or Leon, is a small stream rising on the\n  western <DW72>s of the Cordillera and flowing into the upper end of the\n  Gulf of Uraba. Like the Atrato it brings down much silt, which is\n  rapidly filling that depression. There are many small streams and one\n  important river, the Sinu, flowing into the sea between this gulf and\n  the mouth of the Magdalena. The Sinu rises on the northern <DW72>s of\n  the Alto del Viento near the 7th parallel, and flows almost due north\n  across the coastal plain for a distance of about 286 m. to the Gulf of\n  Morosquillo. It has a very sinuous channel which is navigable for\n  small steamers for some distance, but there is no good port at its\n  outlet, and a considerable part of the region through which it flows\n  is malarial and sparsely settled. The most important rivers of\n  Colombia, however, are the Magdalena and its principal tributary, the\n  Cauca. They both rise on the high table-land of southern Colombia\n  about 14,000 ft. above sea-level--the Magdalena in the Laguna del Buey\n  (Ox Lake) on the Las Papas plateau, and the Cauca a short distance\n  westward in the Laguna de Santiago on the Paramo de Guanacas--and flow\n  northward in parallel courses with the great Central Cordillera,\n  forming the water-parting between their drainage basins. The principal\n  tributaries of the Magdalena are the Suaza, Neiva, Cabrera, Prado,\n  Fusagasaga, Funza or Bogota, Carare, Opon, Sogamoso, Lebrija and\n  Cesar, and the western the La Plata, Paez, Saldana, Cuello, Guali,\n  Samana or Miel, Nare or <DW64> and Cauca. There are also many smaller\n  streams flowing into the Magdalena from both sides of the valley. Of\n  those named, the Funza drains the \"sabana\" of Bogota and is celebrated\n  for the great fall of Tequendama, about 480 ft. in height; the\n  Sogamoso passes through some of the richest districts of the republic;\n  and the Cesar rises on the elevated <DW72>s of the Sierra Nevada de\n  Santa Marta and flows southward across a low plain, in which are many\n  lakes, to join the Magdalena where it bends westward to meet the\n  Cauca. The course of the Magdalena traverses nine degrees of latitude\n  and is nearly 1000 m. long. It is navigable for steamers up to La\n  Dorada, near Honda, 561 m. above its mouth, which is closed by\n  sand-bars to all but light-draught vessels, and for 93 m. above the\n  rapids at Honda, to Girardot. The river is also navigable at high\n  water for small steamers up to Neiva, 100 m. farther and 1535 ft.\n  above sea-level, beyond which point it descends precipitously from the\n  plateaus of southern Colombia. The Honda rapids have a fall of only 20\n  ft. in a distance of 2 m., but the current is swift and the channel\n  tortuous for a distance of 20 m., which make it impossible for the\n  light-draught, flat-bottomed steamers of the lower river to ascend\n  them. The Cauca differs much from the Magdalena, although its\n  principal features are the same. The latter descends 12,500 ft. before\n  it becomes navigable, but at 10,000 ft. below its source the Cauca\n  enters a long narrow valley with an average elevation of 3500 ft.,\n  where it is navigable for over 200 m., and then descends 2500 ft.\n  through a series of impetuous rapids for a distance of about 250 m.,\n  between Cartago and Caceres, with a break of 60 m. above Antioquia,\n  where smooth water permits isolated navigation. While, therefore, the\n  Magdalena is navigable throughout the greater part of its course, or\n  from Girardot to the coast, with an abrupt break of only 20 ft. at\n  Honda which could easily be overcome, the Cauca has only 200 m. of\n  navigable water in the upper valley and another 200 m. on its lower\n  course before it joins the Magdalena in lat. 9 deg. 30', the two being\n  separated by 250 m. of canyon and rapids. So difficult is the country\n  through which the Cauca has cut its tortuous course that the fertile\n  upper valley is completely isolated from the Caribbean, and has no\n  other practicable outlet than the overland route from Cali to\n  Buenaventura, on the Pacific. The upper sources of the Cauca flow\n  through a highly volcanic region, and are so impregnated with\n  sulphuric and other acids that fish cannot live in them. This is\n  especially true of the Rio Vinagre, which rises on the Purace volcano.\n  The principal tributaries are the Piendamo, Ovejas, Palo, Amaime and\n  Nechi, from the central Cordillera, of which the last named is the\n  most important, and the Jamundi and a large number of small streams\n  from the Western. The largest branch of the Cauca on its western side,\n  however, is the San Jorge, which, though rising in the Western\n  Cordillera on the northern <DW72>s of the Alto del Viento, in about\n  lat. 7 deg. N., and not far from the sources of the Sinu and Bacuba, is\n  essentially a river of the plain, flowing north-east across a level\n  country filled with small lakes and subject to inundations to a\n  junction with the Cauca just before it joins the Magdalena. Both the\n  San Jorge and Nechi are navigable for considerable distances. The\n  valley of the Cauca is much narrower than that of the Magdalena, and\n  between Cartago and Caceres the mountain ranges on both sides press\n  down upon the river and confine it to a narrow canyon. The Cauca\n  unites with the Magdalena about 200 m. from the sea through several\n  widely separated channels, which are continually changing through the\n  wearing away of the alluvial banks. These changes in the channel are\n  also at work in the Lower Magdalena. The remaining rivers of the\n  Caribbean system, exclusive of the smaller ones rising in the Sierra\n  Nevada de Santa Marta, are the Zulia and Catatumbo, which rise in the\n  mountains of northern Santander and flow across the low plains of the\n  Venezuelan state of Zulia into Lake Maracaibo.\n\n  Of the rivers of the great eastern plains, whose waters pass through\n  the Orinoco and Amazon to the Atlantic, little can be said beyond the\n  barest geographical description. The size and courses of many of their\n  affluents are still unknown, as this great region has been only\n  partially explored. The largest of these rivers flow across the plains\n  in an easterly direction, those of the Orinoco system inclining\n  northward, and those of the Amazon system southward. The first include\n  the Guaviare or Guayabero, the Vichada, the Meta, and the upper course\n  of the Arauca. The Guaviare was explored by Crevaux in 1881. It rises\n  on the eastern <DW72>s of the Eastern Cordillera between the 3rd and\n  4th parallels, about 75 m. south of Bogota, and flows with a slight\n  southward curve across the llanos to the Orinoco, into which it\n  discharges at San Fernando de Atabapo in lat. 4 deg. N. Its largest\n  tributary is the Inirida, which enters from the south. The Guaviare\n  has about 600 m. of navigable channel. The Meta rises on the opposite\n  side of the Cordillera from Bogota, and flows with a sluggish current\n  east-north-east across the llanos to the Orinoco, into which it\n  discharges below the Atures rapids, in lat. 6 deg. 22' N. It is navigable\n  throughout almost its whole length, small steamers ascending it to a\n  point within 100 m. of Bogota. Its principal tributaries, so far as\n  known, are the Tuca, Chire and Casanare. The principal rivers of the\n  Amazon system are the Napo, the upper part of which forms the\n  provisional boundary line with Ecuador, the Putumayo or Ica, and the\n  Caqueta or Japura (Yapura), which flow from the Andes entirely across\n  the eastern plains, and the Guainia, which rises on the northern\n  <DW72>s of the Serra Tunaji near the provisional Brazilian frontier,\n  and flows with a great northward curve to the Venezuelan and Brazilian\n  frontiers, and is thereafter known as the Rio <DW64>, one of the\n  largest tributaries of the Amazon. There are many large tributaries of\n  these rivers in the unexplored regions of south-eastern Colombia, but\n  their names as well as their courses are still unsettled.\n\n\n    Coasts.\n\n  The coast of Colombia faces on the Pacific Ocean and the Caribbean\n  Sea, and is divided by the Isthmus of Panama into two completely\n  separated parts. The Pacific coast-line, omitting minor convolutions,\n  has a length of about 500 m., while that of the Caribbean is about 700\n  m. The former has been of slight service in the development of the\n  country because of the unsettled and unhealthy character of the coast\n  region, and the high mountain barriers between its natural ports and\n  the settled parts of the republic. There are only two commercial ports\n  on the coast, Tumaco and Buenaventura, though there are several\n  natural harbours which would be of great service were there any demand\n  for them. The rivers Mira, Patia and San Juan permit the entrance of\n  small steamers, as also some of the smaller rivers. The larger bays on\n  this coast are Tumaco, Choco, Magdalena, Cabita, Coqui, Puerto Utria,\n  Solano, Cupica and Octavia--some of them affording exceptionally safe\n  and well-sheltered harbours. The Caribbean coast of Colombia has only\n  four ports engaged in international trade--Barranquilla, Cartagena,\n  Santa Marta and Rio Hacha. There are some smaller ports on the coast,\n  but they are open only to vessels of light draft and have no trade\n  worth mention. Barranquilla, the principal port of the republic, is\n  situated on the Magdalena, and its seaport, or landing-place, is\n  Puerto Colombia at the inner end of Savanilla Bay, where a steel pier\n  4000 ft. long has been built out to deep water, alongside which\n  ocean-going vessels can receive and discharge cargo. The bay is slowly\n  filling up, however, and two other landing-places--Salgar and\n  Savanilla--had to be abandoned before Puerto Colombia was selected.\n  The pier-head had 24 ft. of water alongside in 1907, but the silt\n  brought down by the Magdalena is turned westward by the current along\n  this coast, and may at any time fill the bay with dangerous shoals.\n  The oldest and best port on the coast is Cartagena, 65 m. south-west\n  of Barranquilla, which has a well-sheltered harbour protected by\n  islands, and is connected with the Magdalena at Calamar by railway.\n  The next best port is that of Santa Marta, about 46 m. east-north-east\n  of Barranquilla (in a straight line), with which it is connected by 23\n  m. of railway and 50 m. of inland navigation on the Cienaga de Santa\n  Marta and eastern outlets of the Magdalena. Santa Marta is situated on\n  a small, almost landlocked bay, well protected from prevailing winds\n  by high land on the north and north-east, affording excellent\n  anchorage in waters free from shoaling through the deposit of silt.\n  The depth of the bay ranges from 4-1\/2 to 19 fathoms. The town stands at\n  the foot of the Sierra Nevada de Santa Marta, which restricts the area\n  of cultivatable land in its immediate vicinity, and the enclosing high\n  lands make the climate hot and somewhat dangerous for foreigners.\n  Since the development of the fruit trade on the shores of the\n  Caribbean sea and Gulf of Mexico by an important American company,\n  which owns a large tract of land near Santa Marta devoted to banana\n  cultivation, and has built a railway 50 m. inland principally for the\n  transportation of fruit, the trade of the port has greatly increased.\n  The population of this region, however, is sparse, and its growth is\n  slow. The fourth port on this coast is Rio Hacha, an open roadstead,\n  about 93 m. east of Santa Marta, at the mouth of the small river\n  Rancheira descending from the eastern <DW72>s of the Sierra Nevada de\n  Santa Marta. It has little trade, and the undeveloped, unpopulated\n  state of the country behind it affords no promise of immediate growth.\n  There are other small towns on the coast which are ports for the small\n  vessels engaged in the coasting and river trade, but they have no\n  international importance because of their inaccessibility to\n  ocean-going steamers, or the extremely small volume of their trade.\n  The Gulf of Uraba is a large bight or southerly extension of the Gulf\n  of Darien. It receives the waters of the Atrato, Bacuba, and a number\n  of small rivers, and penetrates the land about 50 m., but has very\n  little commercial importance because of the unhealthy and unsettled\n  character of the neighbouring country, and because of the bar across\n  its entrance formed by silt from the Atrato. The Gulf of Morosquillo,\n  a broad shallow indentation of the coast south of Cartagena, receives\n  the waters of the Rio Sinu, at the mouth of which is the small port of\n  Cispata. Between the mouth of the Magdalena and Santa Marta is the\n  Cienaga de Santa Marta, a large marshy lagoon separated from the sea\n  by a narrow sand spit, having its \"boca\" or outlet at its eastern\n  side. There is some traffic in small steamers on its shallow waters,\n  which is increasing with the development of fruit cultivation on its\n  eastern and southern sides. It extends inland about 31 m., and marks a\n  deep indentation of the coast like the Gulf of Uraba.\n\n  _Geology._--The geology of Colombia is very imperfectly known, and it\n  is only by a comparison with the neighbouring regions that it is\n  possible to form any clear idea of the geological structure and\n  succession. The oldest rocks are gneisses and schists, together with\n  granite and other eruptive rocks. These are overlaid by sandstones,\n  slates and limestones, alternating with porphyries and porphyrites\n  sometimes in the form of sheets, sometimes as breccias and\n  conglomerates. Cretaceous fossils have been found abundantly in this\n  series, but it is still possible that earlier systems may be\n  represented. Coal-bearing beds, possibly of Tertiary age, occur in\n  Antioquia and elsewhere. Structurally, the four main chains of\n  Colombia differ considerably from one another in geological\n  constitution. The low Cordilleras of the Chocos, on the west coast,\n  are covered by soft Quaternary sandstones and marls containing shells\n  of extant species, such as still inhabit the neighbouring ocean. The\n  Western Cordillera is the direct continuation of the Western\n  Cordillera of Ecuador, and, like the latter, to judge from the\n  scattered observations which are all that are available, consists\n  chiefly of sandstones and porphyritic rocks of the Cretaceous series.\n  Between the Western and the Central Cordilleras is a longitudinal\n  depression along which the river Cauca finds its way towards the sea.\n  On the western side of this depression there are red sandstones with\n  coal-seams, possibly Tertiary; the floor and the eastern side consist\n  chiefly of ancient crystalline and schistose rocks. The Central\n  Cordillera is the direct continuation of the Eastern Cordillera of\n  Ecuador, and is formed chiefly of gneiss and other crystalline rocks,\n  but sedimentary deposits of Cretaceous age also occur. Finally the\n  Eastern branch, known as the Cordillera of Bogota, is composed almost\n  entirely of Cretaceous beds thrown into a series of regular\n  anticlinals and synclinals similar to those of the Jura Mountains. The\n  older rocks occasionally appear in the centre of the anticlinals. In\n  all these branches of the Andes the folds run approximately in the\n  direction of the chains, but the Sierra de Santa Marta appears to\n  belong to a totally distinct system of folding, the direction of the\n  folds being from west to east, bending gradually towards the\n  south-east. Although volcanoes are by no means absent, they are much\n  less important than in Ecuador, and their products take a far smaller\n  share in the formation of the Andes. In Ecuador the depression between\n  the Eastern and Western Cordilleras is almost entirely filled with\n  modern lavas and agglomerates; in Colombia the corresponding Cauca\n  depression is almost free from such deposits. In the Central\n  Cordillera volcanoes extend to about 5 deg. N.; in the Western Cordillera\n  they barely enter within the limits of Colombia; in the Cordillera of\n  Bogota they are entirely absent.[1]\n\n  _Climate._--Were it not for the high altitudes of western Colombia,\n  high temperatures would prevail over the whole country, except where\n  modified by the north-east trade winds and the cold ocean current\n  which sweeps up the western coast. The elevated plateaus and summits\n  of the Andes are responsible, however, for many important and profound\n  modifications in climate, not only in respect to the lower\n  temperatures of the higher elevations, but also in respect to the\n  higher temperatures of the sheltered lowland valleys and the varying\n  climatic conditions of the neighbouring plains. The republic lies\n  almost wholly within the north torrid zone, a comparatively small part\n  of the forested Amazonian plain extending beyond the equator into the\n  south torrid zone. The great Andean barrier which crosses the republic\n  from the south to north acts as a condenser to the prevailing easterly\n  winds from the Atlantic, and causes a very heavy rainfall on their\n  eastern <DW72>s and over the forested Amazon plain. High temperatures\n  as well as excessive humidity prevail throughout this region. Farther\n  north, on the open llanos of the Orinoco tributaries, the year is\n  divided into equal parts, an alternating wet and dry season, the sun\n  temperatures being high followed by cool nights, and the temperatures\n  of the rainy season being even higher. The rainfall is heavy in the\n  wet season, causing many of the rivers to spread over extensive areas,\n  but in the dry season the inundated plains become dry, the large\n  rivers fed by the snows and rainfall of the Andes return within their\n  banks, the shallow lagoons and smaller streams dry up, vegetation\n  disappears, and the level plain becomes a desert. The northern plains\n  of the republic are swept by the north-east trades, and here, too, the\n  mountain barriers exercise a strongly modifying influence. The low\n  ridges of the Sierra de Perija do not wholly shut out these\n  moisture-laden winds, but they cause a heavy rainfall on their eastern\n  <DW72>s, and create a dry area on their western flanks, of which the\n  Vale of Upar is an example. The higher masses of the Sierra Nevada de\n  Santa Marta cover a very limited area, leaving the trade winds a\n  comparatively unbroken sweep across the northern plains until checked\n  by the Western Cordillera, the Panama ranges and the Sierra de Baudo,\n  where a heavy precipitation follows. Farther south the coast ranges\n  cause a very heavy rainfall on their western <DW72>s, which are quite\n  as uninhabitable because of rain and heat as are the coasts of\n  southern Chile through rain and cold. The rainfall on this coast is\n  said to average 73 in., though it is much higher at certain points and\n  in the Atrato Valley. As a result the coastal plain is covered with\n  swamps and tangled forests, and is extremely unhealthy, except at a\n  few favoured points on the coast. High temperatures prevail throughout\n  the greater part of the Magdalena and Cauca valleys, because the\n  mountain ranges which enclose them shut out the prevailing winds. At\n  Honda, on the Magdalena, 664 ft. above sea-level, the mean temperature\n  for the year is 82 deg. F., and the mercury frequently rises to 102\n  deg. in the shade. These lowland plains and valleys comprise the\n  climatic tropical zone of Colombia, which is characterized by high\n  temperatures, and by excessive humidity and dense forests, an\n  exception to the last-named characteristic being the open llanos where\n  dry summers prevail. Above this tropical zone in the mountainous\n  regions are to be found all the varying gradations of climate which we\n  are accustomed to associate with changes in latitude. There are the\n  subtropical districts of the valleys and <DW72>s between 1500 and 7500\n  ft. elevation, which include some of the most fertile and productive\n  areas in Colombia; the temperate districts between 7500 and 10,000\n  ft., the cold, bleak and inhospitable _paramos_ between 10,000 and\n  15,000 ft., and above these the arctic wastes of ice and snow. The\n  temperate and subtropical regions cover the greater part of the\n  departments traversed by the Eastern Cordillera, the northern end of\n  the Central Cordillera, the Santa Marta plateaus, and the Upper Cauca\n  Valley. They include the larger part of the white population and the\n  chief productive industries of the country. There is no satisfactory\n  record of temperatures and rainfall in these widely different climatic\n  zones from which correct averages can be drawn and compared.\n  Observations have been made and recorded at Bogota and at some other\n  large towns, but for the greater part of the country we have only\n  fragmentary reports. The mean annual temperature on the eastern\n  plains, so far as known, ranges from 87 deg. F. on the forested <DW72>s\n  to 90 deg. and 91 deg. on the llanos of the Meta and Arauca. On the\n  Caribbean coastal plain it ranges from 80 deg. to 84 deg., but at\n  Tumaco, on the Pacific coast, within two degrees of the equator, it is\n  only 79 deg.. At Medellin, in the mountainous region of Antioquia,\n  4950 ft. above sea-level, the mean annual temperature is 70 deg., and\n  the yearly rainfall 55 in., while at Bogota, 8563 ft., the former is\n  57 deg. and the latter 44 in. At Tuquerres, near the frontier of\n  Ecuador, 10,200 ft. elevation, the mean annual temperature is said to\n  be 55 deg.. The changes of seasons are no less complicated and\n  confusing. A considerable part of the republic is covered by the\n  equatorial belt of calms, whose oscillations divide the year into a\n  wet and dry season. This division is modified, however, by the\n  location of mountain ranges and by elevation. In the Amazon region\n  there is no great change during the year, and on the northern plains\n  the so-called dry season is one of light rains except where mountain\n  ranges break the sweep of the north-east trades. The alternating wet\n  and dry seasons are likewise to be found on the Pacific coastal plain,\n  though this region is not entirely dry and vegetation never dries up\n  as on the _llanos_. Above the lowland plains the seasons vary in\n  character according to geographical position and elevation. The\n  two-season division rules in the departments of Santander and\n  Antioquia, but without the extremes of humidity and aridity\n  characteristic of the eastern plains. Farther south, at elevations\n  between 800 and 9500 ft., the year is divided into four distinct\n  seasons--two wet and two dry--the former called _inviernos_ (winters)\n  and the latter _veranos_ (summers). These seasons are governed by the\n  apparent movements of the sun, the winters occurring at the equinoxes\n  and the summers at the solstices. The _sabana_ of Bogota and\n  neighbouring districts are subject to these changes of season. At\n  higher altitudes long, cold, wet winters are experienced, with so\n  short and cold a summer between them that the bleak _paramos_ are\n  left uninhabited except by a few shepherds in the short dry season.\n\n  _Fauna._--The geographical position of Colombia gives to it a fauna\n  and flora largely characteristic of the great tropical region of the\n  Amazon on the south-east, and of the mountainous regions of Central\n  America on the north-west. At the same time it is rich in animal and\n  plant types of its own, especially the latter, and is considered one\n  of the best fields in South America for the student and collector. The\n  fauna is essentially tropical, though a few species characteristic of\n  colder regions are to be found in the higher Andes. Of the Quadrumana\n  there are at least seventeen distinct species, and this number may be\n  increased after a thorough exploration of the forested eastern plains.\n  They are all arboreal in habit, and are to be found throughout the\n  forested lowlands and lower mountain <DW72>s. The carnivora are\n  represented by seven or eight species of the Felidae, the largest of\n  which are the puma (_Felis concolor_) and the jaguar (_F. onca_).\n  These animals, together with the smaller ocelot, have a wide\n  geographical range, and are very numerous in the valley of the\n  Magdalena. Two species of bear and the \"coati\" (_Nasua_) represent the\n  plantigrades and inhabit the mountain <DW72>s, and, of Pachydermata,\n  the peccary (_Dicotyles_) and \"danta\" or tapir (_Tapirus_) have a wide\n  distribution throughout the lowland and lower plateau forests. The\n  Colombian tapir is known as the _Tapirus Roulini_, and is slightly\n  smaller than the Brazilian species (_T. americanus_). There are deer\n  in the forests and on the open savannahs, the rabbit and squirrel are\n  to be seen on the eastern <DW72>s of the Andes, and partly amphibious\n  rodents, the \"capybara\" (_Hydrochoerus_) and \"guagua\" (_Coelogenys\n  subniger_), are very numerous along the wooded watercourses. The\n  sloth, armadillo, opossum, skunk and a species of fox complete the\n  list of the more common quadrupeds so far as known, though it is\n  certain that a careful biological survey would discover many others.\n  The large rivers of Colombia and the lakes of the lowlands are filled\n  with alligators, turtles, and fish, and several species of fish are\n  highly esteemed by the natives as food. The saurians are represented\n  on land by several species of lizard, some of them conspicuous for\n  their brilliant colouring, and by the large \"iguana,\" whose flesh is\n  considered a great delicacy. Among the ophidians, which include many\n  harmless species, are the boa-constrictor, rattlesnake, the dreaded\n  _Lachesis_ and the coral snake. The \"manatee\" (_Manatus americanus_)\n  is found in the Atrato and other large Colombian rivers.\n\n  In bird and insect life Colombia is second only to Brazil. The condor,\n  which inhabits the higher Cordilleras, is peculiar to the whole Andean\n  region, and is the largest of the Raptores. Among other members of\n  this order are the eagle, osprey, vulture, buzzard, kite and hawk,\n  with about a dozen species in all. Parrots and paroquets are numerous\n  everywhere in the tropical and subtropical regions, as also the\n  gorgeously  macaw and awkward toucan. The largest class,\n  perhaps, is that formed by the astonishing number of water-fowl which\n  throng the shallow lagoons and river beaches at certain seasons of the\n  year. They are mostly migratory in habit, and are to be found in many\n  other countries. Among these are the large white crane and small\n  crane, the blue heron, the snowy-white egret, the roseate spoonbill\n  (_Platalea ajaja_), stork, bittern and many species of ducks. The\n  largest and most conspicuous member of this interesting family is the\n  _Mycteria americana_, the gigantic stork so frequently seen in the\n  Amazon valley, and even more numerous about the lagoons of northern\n  Colombia. One of the best game-birds of the forest is the \"crested\n  curassow\" (_Crax alector_), sometimes weighing 12lb, which feeds on\n  arboreal fruits and rarely comes to the ground. Colombia also\n  possesses many species of the beautiful little humming-bird, among\n  which are the tiny _Steganura Underwoodi_ and the sword-bill,\n  _Docimastes ensiferus_, which were found by Mr Albert Millican on a\n  bleak _paramo_ 12,000 ft. above sea-level. One of the most interesting\n  birds found in the country is the \"weaver-bird\" (_Cassicus persicus_),\n  which lives in colonies and suspends its long, pouch-like nest from\n  the end of a horizontal branch of some high, isolated tree. In regard\n  to insects, what has been said of Brazil will apply very closely to\n  Colombia. Mosquitoes, butterflies, spiders, beetles and ants are\n  infinitely numerous, and some of the species are indescribably\n  troublesome.\n\n  _Flora._--The Colombian flora is richer in species and individual\n  characteristics than the fauna, owing in part to its greater\n  dependence on climatic conditions. It ranges from the purely tropical\n  types of the lowlands to the Alpine species of the more elevated\n  _paramos_. It should be remembered, however, that large areas of the\n  lowland plains have only a very limited arboreal growth. These plains\n  include the extensive llanos of the Orinoco tributaries where coarse,\n  hardy grasses and occasional clumps of palms are almost the only\n  vegetation to be seen. There are other open plains in northern\n  Colombia, sometimes covered with a shrubby growth, and the \"mesas\"\n  (flat-topped mountains) and plateaus of the Cordilleras are frequently\n  bare of trees. Farther up, on the cold, bleak _paramos_, only stunted\n  and hardy trees are to be found. On the other hand, a luxuriant forest\n  growth covers a very large part of the republic, including the\n  southern plains of the Amazon tributaries, the foothills, <DW72>s and\n  valleys of the Cordilleras, a larger part of the northern plains, and\n  the whole surface of the Western Cordillera and coast. The most\n  conspicuous and perhaps the most universal type in all these regions,\n  below an approximate elevation of 10,000 ft., is the palm, whose\n  varieties and uses are incredibly numerous. On the eastern plains are\n  to be found the \"miriti\" (_Mauritia flexuosa_) and the \"pirijao\" or\n  peach palm (_Guilielma speciosa_), called the \"pupunha\" on the Amazon,\n  whose fruit, fibre, leaf, sap, pith and wood meet so large a part of\n  the primary needs of the aborigines. A noteworthy palm of the eastern\n  Andean <DW72>s is the \"corneto\" (_Deckeria_), whose tall, slender trunk\n  starts from the apex of a number of aerial roots, rising like a cone 6\n  to 8 ft. above the ground. It is one of the most fruitful of palms,\n  its clusters weighing from 120 to 200 lb each. Extensive groves of the\n  coco-nut palm are to be found on the Caribbean coast, the fruit and\n  fibre of which figure among the national exports. In north-eastern\n  Colombia, where a part of the year is dry, the \"curuas\" form the\n  prevailing species, but farther south, on the <DW72>s of the\n  Cordilleras up to an elevation of 10,000 ft., the wax-palm, or \"palma\n  de cera\" (_Ceroxylon andicola_), is said to be the most numerous. It\n  is a tall slender palm, and is the source of the vegetable wax so\n  largely used in some parts of the country in the manufacture of\n  matches, a single stem sometimes yielding 16-20 lb. Another widely\n  distributed species in central Colombia is known as the \"palmita del\n  Azufral\" in some localities, and as the \"palma real\" and \"palma dolce\"\n  in others. Humboldt says it is not the \"palma real\" of Cuba (_Oreodoxa\n  regia_), but in the Rio Sinu region is the _Cocos butyracea_, or the\n  \"palma dolce,\" from which palm wine is derived. Another palm of much\n  economic importance in Colombia is the \"tagua\" (_Phytelephas\n  macrocarpa_), which grows abundantly in the valleys of the Magdalena,\n  Atrato and Patia, and produces a large melon-shaped fruit in which are\n  found the extremely hard, fine-grained nuts or seeds known in the\n  commercial world as vegetable ivory. The Colombian \"Panama hat\" is\n  made from the fibres extracted from the ribs of the fan-shaped leaves\n  of still another species of palm, _Carludovica palmata_, while in the\n  Rio Sinu region the natives make a kind of butter (\"manteca de\n  Corozo\") from the _Elaeis melanococca_, Mart., by peeling the nuts in\n  water and then purifying the oil extracted in this way by boiling.\n  This oil was formerly used for illuminating purposes. The forests are\n  never made up wholly of palms, but are composed of trees of widely\n  different characters, including many common to the Amazon region,\n  together with others found in Central American forests, such as\n  mahogany and \"vera\" or lignum vitae (_Zygophyllum arboreum_).\n  Brazilwood (_Caesalpinia echinata_), valuable for its timber and\n  colouring extract, and \"roco\" (_Bixa orellana_), the \"urucu\" of Brazil\n  which furnishes the anatto of commerce, are widely distributed in\n  central and southern Colombia, and another species of the first-named\n  genus, the _C. coariaria_, produces the \"divi-divi\" of the Colombian\n  export trade--a peculiarly shaped seed-pod, rich in tannic and gallic\n  acids, and used for tanning leather. The rubber-producing _Hevea\n  guayanensis_ is found in abundance on the Amazon tributaries, and the\n  _Castilloa elastica_ is common to all the Caribbean river valleys.\n  Southern Colombia, especially the eastern <DW72>s of the Andes,\n  produces another valuable tree, the _Cinchona calisaya_, from the bark\n  of which quinine is made. These are but a few of the valuable cabinet\n  woods, dye-woods, &c., which are to be found in the forests, but have\n  hardly been reached by commerce because of their inaccessibility and\n  the unsettled state of the country. The adventurous orchid-hunter,\n  however, has penetrated deeply into their recesses in search of choice\n  varieties, and collectors of these valuable plants are largely\n  indebted to Colombia for their specimens of _Cattleya Mendelli_,\n  _Warscewiczii_ and _Trianae_; _Dowiana aurea_; _Odontoglossum\n  crispum_, _Pescatorei_, _vexillarium_, _odoratum_, _coronarium_,\n  _Harryanum_, and _blandum_; _Miltonia vexillaria_; _Oncidium\n  carthaginense_ and _Kramerianum_; _Masdevalliae_, _Epidendra_,\n  _Schomburgkiae_ and many others. Colombia is also the home of the\n  American \"Alpine rose\" (_Befaria_), which is to be found between 9000\n  and 11,000 ft. elevation, and grows to a height of 5-6 ft. Tree ferns\n  have a remarkable growth in many localities, their stems being used in\n  southern Cundinamarca to make corduroy roads. The South American\n  bamboo (_Bambusa guadia_) has a very wide range, and is found nearly\n  up to the limit of perpetual snow. The cactus is also widely\n  distributed, and is represented by several well-known species. Among\n  the more common fruit-trees, some of which are exotics, may be\n  mentioned cacao (_Theobroma_), orange, lemon, lime, pine-apple,\n  banana, guava (_Psidium_), breadfruit (_Artocarpus_), cashew\n  (_Anacardium_), alligator pear (_Persea_), with the apple, peach,\n  pear, and other fruits of the temperate zone on the elevated plateaus.\n  Other food and economic plants are coffee, rice, tobacco, sugar-cane,\n  cotton, indigo, vanilla, cassava or \"yucca,\" sweet and white potatoes,\n  wheat, maize, rye, barley, and vegetables of both tropical and\n  temperate climates. It is claimed in Colombia that a species of wild\n  potato found on the _paramos_ is the parent of the cultivated potato.\n\n_Population._--The number of the population of Colombia is very largely\na matter of speculation. A census was taken in 1871, when the population\nwas 2,951,323. What the vegetative increase has been since then (for\nthere has been no immigration) is purely conjectural, as there are no\navailable returns of births and deaths upon which an estimate can be\nbased. Civil war has caused a large loss of life, and the withdrawal\nfrom their homes of a considerable part of the male population, some of\nthem for military service and a greater number going into concealment to\nescape it, and it is certain that the rate of increase has been small.\nSome statistical authorities have adopted 1-1\/2% as the rate, but this is\ntoo high for such a period. All things considered, an annual increase of\n1% for the thirty-five years between 1871 and 1906 would seem to be more\nnearly correct, which would give a population in the latter\nyear--exclusive of the population of Panama--of a little over 3,800,000.\nThe _Statesman's Year Book_ for 1907 estimates it at 4,279,674 in 1905,\nincluding about 150,000 wild Indians, while Supan's _Die Bevolkerung der\nErde_ (1904) places it at 3,917,000 in 1899. Of the total only 10% is\nclassed as white and 15% as Indian, 40% as _mestizos_ (white and Indian\nmixture), and 35% <DW64>s and their mixtures with the other two races.\nThe large proportion of mestizos, if these percentages are correct, is\nsignificant because it implies a persistence of type that may largely\ndetermine the character of Colombia's future population, unless the more\nslowly increasing white element can be reinforced by immigration.\n\nThe white contingent in the population of Colombia is chiefly composed\nof the descendants of the Spanish colonists who settled there during the\nthree centuries following its discovery and conquest. Mining enterprises\nand climate drew them into the highlands of the interior, and there they\nhave remained down to the present day, their only settlements on the\nhot, unhealthy coast being the few ports necessary for commercial and\npolitical intercourse with the mother country. The isolation of these\ndistant inland settlements has served to preserve the language, manners\nand physical characteristics of these early colonists with less\nvariation than in any other Spanish-American state. They form an\nintelligent, high-spirited class of people, with all the defects and\nvirtues of their ancestry. Their isolation has made them ignorant to\nsome extent of the world's progress, while a supersensitive patriotism\nblinds them to the discredit and disorganization which political strife\nand misrule have brought upon them. A very small proportion of the white\nelement consists of foreigners engaged in commercial and industrial\npursuits, but they very rarely become permanently identified with the\nfortunes of the country. The native whites form the governing class, and\nenjoy most of the powers and privileges of political office.\n\nOf the original inhabitants there remain only a few scattered tribes in\nthe forests, who refuse to submit to civilized requirements, and a much\nlarger number who live in organized communities and have adopted the\nlanguage, customs and habits of the dominant race. Their total number is\nestimated at 15% of the population, or nearly 600,000, including the\n120,000 to 150,000 credited to the uncivilized tribes. Many of the\ncivilized Indian communities have not become wholly Hispanicized and\nstill retain their own dialects and customs, their attitude being that\nof a conquered race submitting to the customs and demands of a social\norganization of which they form no part. According to Uricoechea there\nare at least twenty-seven native languages spoken in the western part of\nColombia, fourteen in Tolima, thirteen in the region of the Caqueta,\ntwelve in Panama, Bolivar and Magdalena, ten in Bogota and Cundinamarca,\nand thirty-four in the region of the Meta, while twelve had died out\nduring the preceding century. The tribes of the Caribbean seaboard, from\nChiriqui to Goajira, are generally attached to the great Carib stock;\nthose of the eastern plains show affinities with the neighbouring\nBrazilian races; those of the elevated Tuquerres district are of the\nPeruvian type; and the tribes of Antioquia, Cauca, Popayan and Neiva\npreserve characteristics more akin to those of the Aztecs than to any\nother race. At the time of the Spanish Conquest the most important of\nthese tribes was the Muyscas or Chibchas, who inhabited the tablelands\nof Bogota and Tunja, and had attained a considerable degree of\ncivilization. They lived in settled communities, cultivated the soil to\nsome extent, and ascribed their progress toward civilization to a\nlegendary cause remarkably similar to those of the Aztecs of Mexico and\nthe Incas of Peru. They are represented by some tribes living on the\nhead-waters of the Meta, and their blood flows in the veins of the\n_mestizos_ of the Bogota plateau. Their ancient language has been partly\npreserved through the labours of Gonzalo Bermudez, Jose Dadei, Bernardo\nde Lugo, and Ezequiel Uricoechea, the last having made it the subject of\na special study. According to this author the Chibchas were composed of\nthree loosely united nationalities governed by three independent\nchiefs--the _Zipa_ of Muequeta (the present Funza), the _Zaque_ of Hunsa\n(now Tunja), and the _Jeque_ of Iraca, who was regarded as the successor\nof the god Nemterequeteba, whom they worshipped as the author of their\ncivilization. The latter had his residence at Suamoz, or Sogamoso.\n\nThe Tayronas, of the Santa Marta highlands, who have totally\ndisappeared, were also remarkable for the progress which they had made\ntoward civilization. Evidence of this is to be found in the excellent\nroads which they constructed, and in the skilfully made gold ornaments\nwhich have been found in the district which they occupied, as well as in\nthe contemporary accounts of them by their conquerors. Among the tribes\nwhich are still living in a savage state are the Mesayas, Caquetas,\nMocoas, Amarizanos, Guipanabis and Andaquies of the unsettled eastern\nterritories; the Goajiros, Motilones, Guainetas, and Cocinas of the Rio\nHacha, Upar and Santa Marta districts; and the Dariens, Cunacunas, and\nChocos of the Atrato basin. These tribes have successfully resisted all\nefforts to bring them under political and ecclesiastical control, and\ntheir subjection is still a matter of no small concern to the Colombian\ngovernment. As late as the year 1900 Mr Albert Millican, while\ncollecting orchids on the Opon river, a tributary of the Magdalena\nbetween Bogota and the Caribbean coast, was attacked by hostile Indians,\nand one of his companions was killed by a poisoned arrow. These hostile\ntribes are usually too small to make much trouble, but they are able to\nmake exploration and settlement decidedly dangerous in some districts.\n\nThe _mestizos_, like the whites and Indians, chiefly inhabit the more\nelevated regions of the interior. They are of a sturdy, patient type,\nlike their Indian ancestors, and are sufficiently industrious to carry\non many of the small industries and occupations, and to meet the labour\nrequirements of the inhabited plateau districts. Those of the urban\nmiddle classes are shopkeepers and artizans, and those of the lower\nclass are domestics and day labourers. The whites of Spanish descent\nobject to manual labour, and this places all such occupations in the\nhands of the <DW52> races. In the country the _mestizos_ are small\nagriculturists, herders, labourers and fishermen; but there are many\neducated and successful merchants and professional men among them. There\nare no social barriers in their intercourse with the whites, nor race\nbarriers against those who have political aspirations. The <DW64>s of\npure blood are to be found principally on the coastal plains and in the\ngreat lowland river valleys, where they live in great part on the\nbounties of nature. A small percentage of them are engaged in trade and\nother occupations; a few are small agriculturists.\n\nBogota was reputed to be a centre of learning in colonial times, but\nthere was no great breadth and depth to it, and it produced nothing of\nreal value. By nature the Spanish-American loves art and literature, and\nthe poetic faculty is developed in him to a degree rarely found among\nthe Teutonic races. Writing and reciting poetry are universal, and fill\nas important a place in social life as instrumental music. In Colombia,\nas elsewhere, much attention has been given to belles-lettres among the\nwhites of Spanish descent, but as yet the republic has practically\nnothing of a permanent character to show for it. The natural sciences\nattracted attention very early through the labours of Jose Celestino\nMutis, who was followed by a number of writers of local repute, such as\nZea, Cabal, Caldas, Pombo, Cespedes, Camacho and Lozano. We are indebted\nto Humboldt for our earliest geographical descriptions of the northern\npart of the continent, but to the Italian, Augustin Codazzi, who became\na Colombian after the War of Independence, Colombia is indebted for the\nfirst systematic exploration of her territory. Geographical description\nhas had a peculiar fascination for Colombian writers, and there have\nbeen a number of books issued since the appearance of Codazzi's\n_Resumen_ and _Atlas_. Historical writing has also received much\nattention, beginning with the early work of Jose Manuel Restrepo (1827),\nand a considerable number of histories, compendiums and memoirs have\nbeen published, but none of real importance. Some good work has been\ndone in ethnography and archaeology by some writers of the colonial\nperiod, and by Ezequiel Uricoechea and Ernesto Restrepo.\n\n_Territorial Divisions and Towns._--Previously to 1903 the republic was\ndivided into nine departments, which were then reduced to eight by the\nsecession of Panama. This division of the national territory was\nmodified in 1905, by creating seven additional departments from detached\nportions of the old ones, and by cutting up the unsettled districts of\nGoajira and the great eastern plains into four _intendencias_. The\nfifteen departments thus constituted, with the official estimates of\n1905 regarding their areas and populations, are as follows:--\n\n                       Area      Estimated                   Estimated\n  Department.         sq. m.     Population.   Capital.      Population.\n\n  Antioquia            24,400     750,000     Medellin        60,000\n  Atlantico             1,080     104,674     Barranquilla    40,115\n  Bolivar              23,940     250,000     Cartagena       14,000\n  Boyaca                4,630     350,000     Tunja           10,000\n  Caldas                7,920     150,000     Manizales       20,000\n  Cauca                26,030     400,000     Popayan         10,000\n  Cundinamarca          5,060     225,000     Facatativa      12,000\n  Galan                 6,950     300,000     San Gil         15,000\n  Huila                 8,690     150,000     Neiva           10,000\n  Magdalena            20,460     100,000     Santa Marta      6,000\n  Narino               10,040     200,000     Pasto            6,000\n  Quesada               2,900     300,000     Zipaquira       12,000\n  Santander            11,970     300,000     Bucaramanga     20,000\n  Tolima               10,900     200,000     Ibague          12,000\n  Tundama               2,390     300,000     Santa Rosa       6,000\n  Federal District       ..       200,000     Bogota         120,000\n  Intendencias (4)    277,620       ..          ..             ..\n                      -------   ---------     ------         ------\n        Totals        444,980   4,279,674       ..             ..\n\nOf these departments the original eight are Antioquia, Bolivar, Boyaca\n(or Bojaca), Cauca, Cundinamarca, Magdalena, Santander and Tolima. The\nfour intendencias are called Goajira, Meta, Alto Caqueta and Putumayo,\nand their aggregate area is estimated to be considerably more than half\nof the republic. The first covers the Goajira peninsula, which formerly\nbelonged to the department of Magdalena, and the other three roughly\ncorrespond to the drainage basins of the three great rivers of the\neastern plains whose names they bear. These territories formerly\nbelonged to the departments of Boyaca, Cundinamarca and Cauca. The seven\nnew departments are: Atlantico, taken from the northern extremity of\nBolivar; Caldas, the southern part of Antioquia; Galan, the southern\ndistricts of Santander, including Charala, Socorro, Velez, and its\ncapital San Gil; Huila, the southern part of Tolima, including the\nheadwaters of the Magdalena and the districts about Neiva and La Plata;\nNarino, the southern part of Cauca extending from the eastern Cordillera\nto the Pacific coast; Quesada, a cluster of small, well-populated\ndistricts north of Bogota formerly belonging to Cundinamarca, including\nZipaquira, Guatavita, Ubate and Pacho; and Tundama, the northern part of\nBoyaca lying on the frontier of Galan in the vicinity of its capital\nSanta Rosa. The Federal District consists of a small area surrounding\nthe national capital taken from the department of Cundinamarca. These\nfifteen departments are subdivided into provinces, 92 in all, and these\ninto municipalities, of which there are 740.\n\nThe larger cities and towns of the republic other than the department\ncapitals, with their estimated populations in 1904, are:--\n\n  Aguadas (Antioquia)              13,000\n  Antioquia    \"                   13,000\n  Barbacoas (Narino)               16,000\n  Buga (Cauca)                     12,500\n  Cali (Cauca)                     16,000\n  Chiquinquira (Boyaca)            18,000\n  La Mesa (Cundinamarca)           10,000\n  Pamplona (Santander)             11,000\n  Palmira (Cauca)                  15,000\n  Pie de Cuesta (Santander)        12,000\n  Puerto Nacional                  16,000\n  Rio <DW64> (Antioquia)            12,000\n  Santa Rosa de Osos (Antioquia)   11,000\n  Sonson                           15,000\n  San Jose de Cucuta (Santander)   13,000\n  Soata (Boyaca)                   16,000\n  Socorro (Galan)                  20,000\n  Velez     \"                      15,000\n\nAmong the smaller towns which deserve mention are Ambalema on the upper\nMagdalena, celebrated for its tobacco and cigars; Buenaventura (q.v.);\nChaparral (9000), a market town of Tolima in the valley of the Saldana,\nwith coal, iron and petroleum in its vicinity; Honda (6000), an\nimportant commercial centre at the head of navigation on the lower\nMagdalena; Girardot, a railway centre on the upper Magdalena; and\nQuibdo, a small river town at the head of navigation on the Atrato.\n\n_Communications._--The railway problem in Colombia is one of peculiar\ndifficulty. The larger part of the inhabited and productive districts of\nthe republic is situated in the mountainous departments of the interior,\nand is separated from the coast by low, swampy, malarial plains, and by\nvery difficult mountain chains. These centres of production are also\nseparated from each other by high ridges and deep valleys, making it\nextremely difficult to connect them by a single transportation route.\nThe one common outlet for these districts is the Magdalena river, whose\nnavigable channel penetrates directly into the heart of the country.\nFrom Bogota the Spaniards constructed two partially-paved highways, one\nleading down to the Magdalena in the vicinity of Honda, while the other\npassed down into the upper valley of the same river in a south-westerly\ndirection, over which communication was maintained with Popayan and\nother settlements of southern Colombia and Ecuador. This highway was\nknown as the _camino real_. Political independence and misrule led to\nthe abandonment of these roads, and they are now little better than the\nbridle-paths which are usually the only means of communication between\nthe scattered communities of the Cordilleras. In some of the more\nthickly settled and prosperous districts of the Eastern Cordillera these\nbridle paths have been so much improved that they may be considered\nreasonably good mountain roads, the traffic over them being that of pack\nanimals and not of wheeled vehicles. Navigation on the lower Magdalena\nclosely resembles that of the Mississippi, the same type of light-draft,\nflat-bottomed steamboat being used, and similar obstacles and dangers to\nnavigation being encountered. There is also the same liability to change\nits channel, as shown in the case of Mompox, once an important and\nprosperous town of the lower plain situated on the main channel, now a\ndecaying, unimportant place on a shallow branch 20 m. east of the main\nriver. Small steamers also navigate the lower Cauca and Nechi rivers,\nand a limited service is maintained on the upper Cauca.\n\nWith three exceptions all the railway lines of the country lead to the\nMagdalena, and are dependent upon its steamship service for\ntransportation to and from the coast. In 1906, according to an official\nstatement, these lines were: (1) The Barranquilla and Savanilla (Puerto\nColombia), 17-1\/2 m. in length; (2) the Cartagena and Calamar, 65 m.;\n(3) the La Dorada & Arancaplumas (around the Honda rapids), 20-1\/2 m.;\n(4) the Colombian National, from Girardot to Facatativa, 80 m., of which\n48-1\/2 m. were completed in 1906; (5) the Girardot to Espinal, 13-1\/2\nm., part of a projected line running south-west from Girardot; (6) the\nSabana railway, from Bogota to Facatativa, 25 m.; (7) the Northern, from\nBogota to Zipaquira, 31 m.; (8) the Southern, from Bogota to Sibate, 18\nm.; and (9) the Puerto Berrio & Medellin, about 78 m. long, of which 36\nare completed. The three lines which do not connect with the Magdalena\nare: (1) the Cucuta and Villamazar, 43-1\/2 m., the latter being a port\non the Zulia river near the Venezuelan frontier; (2) the Santa Marta\nrailway, running inland from that port through the banana-producing\ndistricts, with 41-1\/2 m. in operation in 1907; and (3) the Buenaventura\nand Cali, 23 m. in operation inland from the former. This gives a total\nextension of 383 m. in 1906, of which 226 were built to connect with\nsteamship transportation on the Magdalena, 49 to unite Bogota with\nneighbouring localities, and 108 to furnish other outlets for productive\nregions. There is no system outlined in the location of these detached\nlines, though in 1905-1908 President Reyes planned to connect them in\nsuch a way as to form an extensive system radiating from the national\ncapital. Tramway lines were in operation in Bogota, Barranquilla and\nCartagena in 1907.\n\nThe telegraph and postal services are comparatively poor, owing to the\ndifficulty of maintaining lines and carrying mails through a rugged and\nuninhabited tropical country. The total length of telegraph lines in\n1903 was 6470 m., the only cable connexion being at Buenaventura, on the\nPacific coast. All the principal Caribbean ports and department capitals\nare connected with Bogota, but interruptions are frequent because of the\ndifficulty of maintaining lines through so wild a country.\n\nThere are only five ports, Buenaventura, Barranquilla, Cartagena, Santa\nMarta and Rio Hacha, which are engaged in foreign commerce, though\nTumaco and Villamazar are favourably situated for carrying on a small\ntrade with Ecuador and Venezuela. Colombia has no part in the carrying\ntrade, however, her merchants marine in 1905 consisting of only one\nsteamer of 457 tons and five sailing vessels of 1385 tons. Aside from\nthese, small steamers are employed on some of the small rivers with\nbarges, called \"bongoes,\" to bring down produce and carry back\nmerchandise to the inland trading centres. The coasting trade is\ninsignificant, and does not support a regular service of even the\nsmallest boats. The foreign carrying trade is entirely in the hands of\nforeigners, in which the Germans take the lead, with the British a close\nsecond. The Caribbean ports are in frequent communication with those of\nEurope and the United States.\n\n  _Agriculture._--The larger part of the Colombian population is engaged\n  in agricultural and pastoral pursuits. Maize, wheat and other cereals\n  are cultivated on the elevated plateaus, with the fruits and\n  vegetables of the temperate zone, and the European in Bogota is able\n  to supply his table very much as he would do at home. The plains and\n  valleys of lower elevation are used for the cultivation of coffee and\n  other sub-tropical products, the former being produced in nearly all\n  the departments at elevations ranging from 3500 to 6500 ft. This\n  industry has been greatly prejudiced by civil wars, which not only\n  destroyed the plantations and interrupted transportation, but deprived\n  them of the labouring force essential to their maintenance and\n  development. It is estimated that the revolutionary struggle of\n  1899-1903 destroyed 10% of the able-bodied agricultural population of\n  the Santa Marta district, and this estimate, if true, will hold good\n  for all the inhabited districts of the Eastern Cordillera. The best\n  coffee is produced in the department of Cundinamarca in the almost\n  inaccessible districts of Fusagasaga and La Palma. Tolima coffee is\n  also considered to be exceptionally good. The department of Santander,\n  however, is the largest producer, and much of its output in the past\n  has been placed upon the market as \"Maracaibo,\" the outlet for this\n  region being through the Venezuelan port of that name. Coffee\n  cultivation in the Santa Marta region is receiving much attention on\n  account of its proximity to the coast.\n\n  The tropical productions of the lower plains include, among others,\n  many of the leading products of the world, such as cacao, cotton,\n  sugar, rice, tobacco, and bananas, with others destined wholly for\n  home consumption, as yams, cassava and arracacha. Potatoes are widely\n  cultivated in the temperate and sub-tropical regions, and sweet\n  potatoes in the sub-tropical and tropical. Although it is found\n  growing wild, cacao is cultivated to a limited extent, and the product\n  is insufficient for home consumption. Cotton is cultivated only on a\n  small scale, although there are large areas suitable for the plant.\n  The staple product is short, but experiments have been initiated in\n  the Santa Marta region to improve it. Sugar cane is another plant\n  admirably adapted to the Colombian lowlands, but it is cultivated to\n  so limited an extent that the sugar produced is barely sufficient for\n  home consumption. Both cultivation and manufacture have been carried\n  on in the old time way, by the rudest of methods, and the principal\n  product is a coarse brown sugar, called _panela_, universally used by\n  the poorer classes as an article of food and for making a popular\n  beverage. Antiquated refining processes are also used in the\n  manufacture of an inferior white sugar, but the quantity produced is\n  small, and it is unable to compete with beet-sugar from Germany. A\n  considerable part of the sugar-cane produced is likewise devoted to\n  the manufacture of _chicha_ (rum), the consumption of which is common\n  among the Indians and half-breeds of the Andean regions.\n\n  Rice is grown to a very limited extent, though it is a common article\n  of diet and the partially submerged lowlands are naturally adapted to\n  its production. Tobacco was cultivated in New Granada and Venezuela in\n  colonial times, when its sale was a royal monopoly and its cultivation\n  was restricted to specified localities. The Colombian product is best\n  known through the Ambalema, Girardot, and Palmira tobacco, especially\n  the Ambalema cigars, which are considered by some to be hardly\n  inferior to those of Havana, but the plant is cultivated in other\n  places and would probably be an important article of export were it\n  possible to obtain labourers for its cultivation. Banana cultivation\n  for commercial purposes is a comparatively modern industry, dating\n  from 1892 when the first recorded export of fruit was made. Its\n  development is due to the efforts of an American fruit-importing\n  company, which purchased lands in the vicinity of Santa Marta for the\n  production of bananas and taught the natives that the industry could\n  be made profitable. A railway was built inland for the transportation\n  of fruit to Santa Marta, and is being extended toward the Magdalena as\n  fast as new plantations are opened. The growth of the industry is\n  shown in the export returns, which were 171,891 bunches for 1892, and\n  1,397,388 bunches for 1906, the area under cultivation being about\n  7000 acres in the last-mentioned year. Yams, sweet potatoes, cassava\n  and arracacha are chiefly cultivated for domestic needs, but in common\n  with other fruits and vegetables they give occupation to the small\n  agriculturalists near the larger towns.\n\n  The pastoral industry dates from colonial times and engages the\n  services of a considerable number of people, but its comparative\n  importance is not great. The open plains, \"mesas,\" and plateaus of the\n  north support large herds of cattle, and several cattle ranches have\n  been established on the Meta and its tributaries. Live cattle, to a\n  limited extent, are exported to Cuba and other West Indian markets,\n  but the chief produce from this industry is hides. The department of\n  Santander devotes considerable attention to horse-breeding. Goats are\n  largely produced for their skins, and in some localities, as in Cauca,\n  sheep are raised for their wool. Swine are common to the whole\n  country, and some attention has been given to the breeding of mules.\n\n  _Minerals._--The mineral resources of Colombia are commonly believed\n  to be the principal source of her wealth, and this because of the\n  precious metals extracted from her mines since the Spanish invasion.\n  The estimate aggregate for three and a half centuries is certainly\n  large, but the exact amount will probably never be known, because the\n  returns in colonial times were as defective as those of disorderly\n  independence have been. Humboldt and Chevalier estimated the total\n  output down to 1845 at L1,200,000, which Professor Soetbeer\n  subsequently increased to L169,422,750. A later Colombian authority,\n  Vicente Restrepo, whose studies of gold and silver mining in Colombia\n  have been generally accepted as conclusive and trustworthy, after a\n  careful sifting of the evidence on which these two widely diverse\n  conclusions were based and an examination of records not seen by\n  Humboldt and Soetbeer, reaches the conclusion that the region\n  comprised within the limits of the republic, including Panama, had\n  produced down to 1886 an aggregate of L127,800,000 in gold and\n  L6,600,000 in silver. This aggregate he distributes as follows:--\n\n    16th century      L10,600,000\n    17th    \"          34,600,000\n    18th    \"          41,000,000\n    19th    \"          41,600,000\n\n  According to his computations the eight Colombian departments,\n  omitting Panama, had produced during this period in gold and silver:--\n\n    Antioquia         L50,000,000\n    Cauca              49,800,000\n    Tolima             10,800,000\n    Santander           3,000,000\n    Bolivar             1,400,000\n    Cundinamarca          360,000\n    Magdalena             200,000\n    Boyaca                 40,000\n                     ------------\n                     L115,600,000\n\n  Three-fourths of the gold production, he estimates, was derived from\n  alluvial deposits. Large as these aggregates are, it will be seen that\n  the annual production was comparatively small, the highest average,\n  that for the 19th century, being less than L500,000 a year. Toward the\n  end of the 19th century, after a decline in production due to the\n  abolition of slavery and to civil wars, increased interest was shown\n  abroad in Colombian mining operations. Medellin, the capital of\n  Antioquia, is provided with an electrolytic refining establishment,\n  several assaying laboratories, and a mint. The department of Cauca is\n  considered to be the richest of the republic in mineral deposits, but\n  it is less conveniently situated for carrying on mining operations.\n  Besides this, the extreme unhealthiness of its most productive\n  regions, the Choco and Barbacoas districts on the Pacific <DW72>, has\n  been a serious obstacle to foreign enterprise. Tolima is also\n  considered to be rich in gold and (especially) silver deposits. East\n  of the Magdalena the production of these two metals has been\n  comparatively small. In compensation the famous emerald mines of Muzo\n  and Coscuez are situated in an extremely mountainous region north of\n  Bogota and near the town of Chiquinaquira, in the department of\n  Boyaca. The gems are found in a matrix of black slate in what appears\n  to be the crater of a volcano, and are mined in a very crude manner.\n  The mines are owned by the government. The revenue was estimated at\n  L96,000 for 1904. Platinum is said to have been discovered in Colombia\n  in 1720, and has been exported regularly since the last years of the\n  18th century. It is found in many parts of the country, but chiefly in\n  the Choco and Barbacoas districts, the annual export from the former\n  being about 10,000 in value. Of the bulkier and less valuable minerals\n  Colombia has copper, iron, manganese, lead, zinc and mercury. Coal is\n  also found at several widely-separated places, but is not mined. There\n  are also indications of petroleum in Tolima and Bolivar. These\n  minerals, however, are of little value to the country because of their\n  distance from the seaboards and the costs of transportation. Salt is\n  mined at Zipaquira, near Bogota, and being a government monopoly, is a\n  source of revenue to the national treasury.\n\n  _Manufactures._--The Pradera iron works, near Bogota, carry on some\n  manufacturing (sugar boilers, agricultural implements, &c.) in\n  connexion with their mining and reducing operations. Pottery and\n  coarse earthenware are made at Espinal, in Tolima, where the natives\n  are said to have had a similar industry before the Spanish conquest.\n  There are woollen mills at Popayan and Pasto, and small cigar-making\n  industries at Ambalema and Palmira. Hat-making from the \"jipijapa\"\n  fibre taken from the _Carludovica_ palm is a domestic industry in many\n  localities, and furnishes an article of export. Friction matches are\n  made from the vegetable wax extracted from the _Ceroxylon_ palm, and\n  are generally used throughout the interior. Rum and sugar are products\n  of a crude manufacturing industry dating from colonial times. A modern\n  sugar-mill and refinery at Sincerin, 28 m. from Cartagena, was the\n  first of its kind erected in the republic. It is partially supported\n  by the government, and the concession provides that the production of\n  sugar shall not be less than 2,600,000 lb per annum.\n\n  _Commerce._--In the Barranquilla customs returns for 1906 the imports\n  were valued at $6,787,055 (U.S. gold), on which the import duties were\n  $4,333,028, or an average rate of 64%. According to a statistical\n  summary issued in 1906 by the U.S. Bureau of Statistics, entitled\n  \"Commercial America in 1905,\" the latest official return to the\n  foreign trade of Colombia was said to be that of 1898, which was:\n  imports 11,083,000 _pesos_, exports 19,158,000 _pesos_. Uncertainty in\n  regard to the value of the _peso_ led the compiler to omit the\n  equivalents in U.S. gold, but according to foreign trade returns these\n  totals represent gold values, which at 4s. per peso are: imports\n  L2,216,600, exports L3,831,600. In his annual message to congress on\n  the 1st of April 1907, President Reyes stated that the imports for\n  1904 were $14,453,000, and the exports $12,658,000, presumably U.S.\n  gold, as the figures are taken from the _Monthly Bulletin_ of the\n  Bureau cf American Republics (July 1907). An approximate equivalent\n  would be: imports L3,011,000, exports L2,637,000; which shows a small\n  increase in the first and a very large decrease in the second. The\n  imports include wheat flour, rice, barley, prepared foods, sugar,\n  coal, kerosene, beer, wines and liquors, railway equipment, machinery\n  and general hardware, fence wire, cotton and other textiles, drugs,\n  lumber, cement, paper, &c., while the exports comprise coffee,\n  bananas, hides and skins, tobacco, precious metals, rubber, cabinet\n  woods, divi-divi, dye-woods, vegetable ivory, Panama hats, orchids,\n  vanilla, &c.\n\n_Government._--The government of Colombia is that of a centralized\nrepublic composed of 15 departments, 1 federal district, and 4\nintendencias (territories). It is divided into three co-ordinate\nbranches, legislative, executive and judicial, and is carried on under\nthe provisions of the constitution of 1886, profoundly modified by the\namendments of 1905. Previous to 1886, the departments were practically\nindependent, but under the constitution of that year the powers of the\nnational government were enlarged and strengthened, while those of the\ndepartments were restricted to purely local affairs. The departments are\nprovided with biennial departmental assemblies, but their governors are\nappointees of the national executive.\n\nThe legislative branch consists of a senate and chamber of deputies,\nwhich meets at Bogota biennially (after 1908) on February 1st for an\nordinary session of ninety days. The Senate is composed of 48 members--3\nfrom each department chosen by the governor and his departmental\ncouncil, and 3 from the federal district chosen by the president himself\nand two of his cabinet ministers. Under this arrangement the president\npractically controls the choice of senators. Their term of office is\nfour years, and is renewed at the same time and for the same period as\nthose of the lower house. The chamber is composed of 67 members, elected\nby popular suffrage in the departments, on the basis of one\nrepresentative for each 50,000 of population. The intendencias are\nrepresented by one member each, who is chosen by the intendant, his\nsecretary, and 3 citizens elected by the municipal council of the\nterritorial capital. As the constituent assembly which amended the\nconstitution, according to the president's wishes in 1905, was to\ncontinue in office until 1908 and to provide laws for the regulation of\nelections and other public affairs, it appeared that the president would\npermit no expression of popular dissent to interfere with his purpose to\nestablish a dictatorial regime in Colombia similar to the one in Mexico.\n\nThe executive power is vested in a president chosen by Congress for a\nperiod of four years. The first presidential period, dating from the 1st\nof January 1905, was for ten years, and no restriction was placed upon\nthe choice of President Rafael Reyes to succeed himself. The constituent\nassembly gave the president exceptional powers to deal with all\nadministrative matters. He is assisted by a cabinet of six ministers,\ninterior, foreign affairs, finance, war, public instruction and public\nworks, who are chosen and may be removed by himself. The office of\nvice-president is abolished, and the president is authorized to choose a\ntemporary substitute from his cabinet, and in case of his death or\nresignation his successor is chosen by the cabinet or the governor of a\ndepartment who happens to be nearest Bogota at the time. The president\nis authorized to appoint the governors of departments, the intendants of\nterritories, the judges of the supreme and superior courts, and the\ndiplomatic representatives of the republic. His salary, as fixed by the\n1905 budget, is L3600 a year, and his cabinet ministers receive L1200\neach. The council of state is abolished and the senate is charged with\nthe duty of confirming executive appointments.\n\nThe judicial branch of the government, like the others, has been in\ngreat measure reorganized. It consists of a supreme court of seven\nmembers at Bogota, and a superior court in each judicial district. There\nare various inferior courts also, including magistrates or _jueces de\npaz_, but their organization and functions are loosely defined and not\ngenerally understood outside the republic. The supreme court has\nappellate jurisdiction in judicial matters, and original jurisdiction in\nimpeachment trials and in matters involving constitutional\ninterpretation. Under the constitution of 1886 the judges of the higher\ncourts were appointed for life, but the reforms of 1905 changed their\ntenure to five years for the supreme court and four years for the\nsuperior courts, the judges being eligible for re-appointment.\n\nThe departments, which are administered by governors representing the\nnational executive, are permitted to exercise restricted legislative\nfunctions relating to purely local affairs. Municipal councils are also\nto be found in the larger towns. The governor is assisted by a\ndepartmental council consisting of his secretaries and the president of\nthe Corte de Cuentas, which places the political administration of the\ndepartment under the direct control of the president at Bogota.\n\nThe strength of the army is determined annually by congress, but every\nable-bodied citizen is nominally liable to military service. Its peace\nfooting in 1898 was 1000 men. After the war of 1899-1903 its strength\nwas successively reduced to 10,000 and 5000, a part of this force being\nemployed in the useful occupation of making and repairing public roads.\nThe navy in 1906 consisted of only three small cruisers on the Caribbean\ncoast, and two cruisers, two gunboats, one troopship and two steam\nlaunches on the Pacific. There was also one small gunboat on the\nMagdalena.\n\n  _Education._--Although Bogota was reputed to be an educational centre\n  in colonial times, so slight an influence did this exert upon the\n  country that Colombia ended the 19th century with no effective public\n  school system, very few schools and colleges, and fully 90% of\n  illiteracy in her population. This is due in great measure to the long\n  reign of political disorder, but there are other causes as well. As in\n  Chile, the indifference of the ruling class to the welfare of the\n  common people is a primary cause of their ignorance and poverty, to\n  which must be added the apathy, if not opposition, of the Church.\n  Under such conditions primary schools in the villages and rural\n  districts were practically unknown, and the parish priest was the only\n  educated person in the community. Nominally there was a school system\n  under the supervision of the national and departmental governments,\n  but its activities were limited to the larger towns, where there were\n  public and private schools of all grades. There were universities in\n  Bogota and Medellin, the former having faculties of letters and\n  philosophy, jurisprudence and political science, medicine and natural\n  sciences, and mathematics and engineering, with an attendance of 1200\n  to 1500 students. The war of 1899-1903 so completely disorganized this\n  institution that only one faculty, medicine and natural sciences, was\n  open in 1907. There were also a number of private schools in the\n  larger towns, usually maintained by religious organizations. The\n  reform programme of President Reyes included a complete reorganization\n  of public instruction, to which it is proposed to add normal schools\n  for the training of teachers, and agricultural and technical schools\n  for the better development of the country's material resources. The\n  supreme direction of this branch of the public service is entrusted to\n  the minister of public instruction, and state aid is to be extended to\n  the secondary, as well as to the normal, technical and professional\n  schools. The secondary schools receiving public aid, however, have\n  been placed in charge of religious corporations of the Roman Catholic\n  Church. The expenditure on account of public instruction, which\n  includes schools of all grades and descriptions, is unavoidably small,\n  the appropriation for the biennium 1905-1906 being only L167,583. The\n  school and college attendance for 1906, according to the president's\n  review of that year, aggregated 218,941, of whom 50,691 were in\n  Antioquia, where the whites are more numerous than in any other\n  department; 4916 in Atlantico, which includes the city of\n  Barranquilla, and in which the <DW64> element preponderates; and only\n  12,793 in the federal district and city of Bogota where the _mestizo_\n  element is numerous. Although primary instruction is gratuitous it is\n  not compulsory, and these figures clearly demonstrate that school\n  privileges have not been extended much beyond the larger towns. The\n  total attendance, however, compares well with that of 1897, which was\n  143,096, although it shows that only 5% of the population,\n  approximately, is receiving instruction.\n\n  _Religion._--The religious profession of the Colombian people is Roman\n  Catholic, and is recognized as such by the constitution, but the\n  exercise is permitted of any other form of worship which is not\n  contrary to Christian morals or to the law. There is one Protestant\n  church in Bogota, but the number of non-Catholics is small and\n  composed of foreign residents. There has been a long struggle between\n  liberals and churchmen in Colombia, and at one time the latter\n  completely lost their political influence over the government, but the\n  common people remained loyal to the Church, and the upper classes\n  found it impossible to sever the ties which bound them to it. The\n  constitution of 1861 disestablished the Church, confiscated a large\n  part of its property, and disfranchised the clergy, but in 1886\n  political rights were restored to the latter and the Roman Catholic\n  religion was declared to be the faith of the nation. The rulers of the\n  Church have learned by experience, however, that they can succeed best\n  by avoiding partisan conflicts, and the archbishop of Bogota gave\n  effect to this in 1874 by issuing an edict instructing priests not to\n  interfere in politics. The Church influence with all classes is\n  practically supreme and unquestioned, and it still exercises complete\n  control in matters of education. The Colombian hierarchy consists of\n  an archbishop, residing at Bogota, 10 bishops, 8 vicars-general, and\n  2170 priests. There were also in 1905 about 750 members of 10 monastic\n  and religious orders. There were 270 churches and 312 chapels in the\n  republic. Each diocese has its own seminary for the training of\n  priests.\n\n  _Finance._--In financial matters Colombia is known abroad chiefly\n  through repeated defaults in meeting her bonded indebtedness, and\n  through the extraordinary depreciation of her paper currency. The\n  public revenues are derived from import duties on foreign merchandise,\n  from export duties on national produce, from internal taxes and\n  royalties on liquors, cigarettes and tobacco, matches, hides and salt,\n  from rentals of state emerald mines and pearl fisheries, from stamped\n  paper, from port dues and from postal and telegraph charges. The\n  receipts and expenditure are estimated for biennial periods, but it\n  has not been customary to publish detailed results. Civil wars have of\n  course been a serious obstacle, but it was announced by President\n  Reyes in 1907 that the revenues were increasing. For the two years\n  1905 and 1906 the revenues were estimated to produce (at $5 to the L1\n  sterling) L4,203,823, the expenditures being fixed at the same amount.\n  The expenditures, however, did not include a charge of L424,000,\n  chiefly due on account of war claims and requisitions. During the\n  first year of this period the actual receipts, according to the\n  council of the corporation of foreign bondholders, were $9,149,591\n  gold (L1,829,918) and the payments $7,033,317 gold (L1,406,663). It\n  was expected by the government that the 1906 revenues would largely\n  exceed 1905, but the expectation was not fully realized, chiefly, it\n  may be assumed, because of the inability of an impoverished people to\n  meet an increase in taxation. An instance of this occurred in the\n  promising export of live cattle to Cuba and Panama, which was\n  completely suppressed in 1906 because of a new export tax of $3 gold\n  per head. Of the expenditures about one-fourth is on account of the\n  war department.\n\n  The foreign debt, according to the 1896 arrangement with the\n  bondholders which was renewed in 1905, is L2,700,000, together with\n  unpaid interest since 1896 amounting to L351,000 more. Under the 1905\n  arrangement the government undertook to pay the first coupons at 2-1\/2%\n  and succeeding ones at 3%, pledging 12 to 15% of the customs receipts\n  as security. The first payments were made according to agreement, and\n  it was believed in 1907 that the succeeding ones, together with\n  one-half of the unpaid interest since 1896, would also be met. It is\n  worthy of note that this debt, principal and accumulated interest,\n  exceeded six and a half millions sterling in 1873, and that the\n  bondholders surrendered about 60% of the claim in the hope of securing\n  the payment of the balance. It is also worthy of note that Panama\n  refused to assume any part of this debt without a formal recognition\n  of her independence by Colombia, and even then only a sum\n  proportionate to her population. The internal debt of Colombia in June\n  1906 was as follows:--\n\n    Consolidated   5,476,887 dollars silver,\n    Floating       2,345,658   \"     gold.\n\n  Whether or not this included the unpaid war claims was not stated.\n\n  _Money._---The monetary system, which has been greatly complicated by\n  the use of two depreciated currencies, silver and paper, has been\n  undergoing a radical reform since 1905, the government proposing to\n  redeem the depreciated paper and establish a new uniform currency on a\n  gold basis. The paper circulation in 1905 exceeded 700,000,000\n  _pesos_. The issue began in 1881 through the Banco Nacional de\n  Colombia, its value then being equal to that of the silver coinage.\n  Political troubles in 1884-1885 led to a suspension of cash payments\n  in 1885, and in 1886 Congress made the notes inconvertible and of\n  forced circulation. In 1894 the Banco Nacional ceased to exist as a\n  corporation, and thenceforward the currency was issued for account of\n  the national treasury. On October 16, 1899--the outstanding\n  circulation then amounting to 46,000,000 _pesos_,--the government\n  decreed an unlimited issue to meet its expenditures in suppressing the\n  revolution, and later on the departments of Antioquia, Bolivar, Cauca,\n  and Santander were authorized to issue paper money for themselves.\n  This suicidal policy continued until February 28, 1903, when,\n  according to an official statement, the outstanding paper circulation\n  was:--\n\n                                 Pesos.\n    National government issues   600,398,581\n    Department of Antioquia       35,938,495.60\n         \"     \"  Bolivar         18,702,100\n         \"     \"  Cauca           44,719,688.70\n         \"     \"  Santander          750,000\n                                 --------------\n                                 700,598,865.30\n\n  So great was the depreciation of this currency that before the end of\n  the war 100 American gold dollars were quoted at 22,500 _pesos_. The\n  declaration of peace brought the exchange rate down to the\n  neighbourhood of 10,000, where it remained, with the exception of a\n  short period during the Panama Canal negotiations, when it fell to\n  6000. This depreciation (10,000) was equivalent to a loss of 99% of\n  the nominal value of the currency, a paper _peso_ of 100 _centavos_\n  being worth only one centavo gold. International commercial\n  transactions were based on the American gold dollar, which was usually\n  worth 100 _pesos_ of this depreciated currency. Even at this\n  valuation, the recognized outstanding circulation (for there had been\n  fraudulent issues as well) amounted to more than L1,400,000. In 1903\n  Congress adopted a gold dollar of 1.672 grammes weight .900 fine\n  (equal to the U.S. gold dollar) as the monetary standard created a\n  redemption bureau for the withdrawal of the paper circulation,\n  prohibited the further issue of such currency, and authorized free\n  contracts in any currency. Previous to that time the law required all\n  contracts to specify payments in paper currency. Certain rents and\n  taxes were set aside for the use of the redemption bureau, and a\n  nominally large sum has been withdrawn from circulation through this\n  channel. On the 1st of January 1906, another monetary act came into\n  operation, with additional provisions for currency redemption and\n  improvement of the monetary system. A supplementary act of 1906 also\n  created a new national banking institution, called the Banco Central,\n  which is made a depository of the public revenues and is charged with\n  a considerable part of their administration, including payments on\n  account of the foreign debt and the conversion of the paper currency\n  into coin. The new law likewise reaffirmed the adoption of a gold\n  dollar of 1.672 grammes .900 fine as the unit of the new coinage,\n  which is:--\n\n    _Gold_:--\n        Double condor      =  20 dollars.\n        Condor             =  10   \"\n        Half condor        =   5   \"\n        Dollar (mon. unit) = 100 cents.\n    _Silver_:--\n        Half dollar        =  50 cents.\n        Peseta             =  20   \"\n        Real               =  10   \"\n    _Nickel_:--5 cents.\n    _Bronze_:--2 cents and 1 cent.\n\n  The silver coinage (.900 fine) is limited to 10%, and the nickel and\n  bronze coins to 2% of the gold coinage. The new customs tariff, which\n  came into force at the same time, was an increase of 70% on the rates\n  of 1904, and provided that the duties should be paid in gold, or in\n  paper at the current rate of exchange. This measure was designed to\n  facilitate the general resumption of specie payments.\n\n  _Weights and Measures._--The metric system of weights and measures has\n  been the legal standard in Colombia since 1857, but its use is\n  confined almost exclusively to international trade. In the interior\n  and in all domestic transactions the old Spanish weights and measures\n  are still used--including the Spanish _libra_ of 1.102 lb avoirdupois,\n  the _arroba_ of 25 _libras_ (12-1\/2 kilogrammes), the quintal of 100\n  _libras_ (50 kilog.), the _carga_ of 250 _libras_ (125 kilogs.), the\n  _vara_ of 80 centimetres, and the _fanega_. The litre is the standard\n  liquid measure.     (A. J. L.)\n\n\nHISTORY\n\nThe coast of Colombia was one of the first parts of the American\ncontinent visited by the Spanish navigators. Alonso de Ojeda touched at\nseveral points in 1499 and 1501; and Columbus himself visited Veragua,\nPortobello, and other places in his last voyage in 1502. In 1508 Ojeda\nobtained from the Spanish crown a grant of the district from Cape Vela\nwestward to the Gulf of Darien, while the rest of the country from the\nGulf of Darien to Cape Gracias-a-Dios was bestowed on his\nfellow-adventurer, Nicuessa. The two territories designated respectively\nNueva Andalucia and Castella de Oro were united in 1514 into the\nprovince of Tierra-firma, and entrusted to Pedro Arias de Avila. In\n1536-1537 an expedition under Gonzalo Jimenez de Quesada made their way\nfrom Santa Marta inland by the river Magdalena, and penetrated to\nBogota, the capital of the Muiscas or Chibchas. Quesada gave to the\ncountry the name of New Granada.\n\nBy the middle of the century the Spanish power was fairly established,\nand flourishing communities arose along the coasts, and in the\ntable-lands of Cundinamarca formerly occupied by the Muiscas. For the\nbetter government of the colony the Spanish monarch erected a presidency\nof New Granada in 1564, which continued till 1718, when it was raised to\nthe rank of a viceroyalty. In the following year, however, the second\nviceroy, D. Jorge Villalonga, Count de la Cueva, expressing his opinion\nthat the maintenance of this dignity was too great a burden on the\nsettlers, the viceroyalty gave place to a simple presidency. In 1740 it\nwas restored, and it continued as long as the Spanish authority,\nincluding within its limits not only the present Colombia, but also\nVenezuela and Ecuador. An insurrection against the home government was\nformally commenced in 1811, and an incessant war against the Spanish\nforces was waged till 1824.\n\nIn 1819 the great national hero, Bolivar (q.v.), effected a union\nbetween the three divisions of the country, to which was given the title\nof the Republic of Colombia; but in 1829 Venezuela withdrew, and in\n1830, the year of Bolivar's death, Quito or Ecuador followed her\nexample. The Republic of New Granada was founded on the 21st of November\n1831; and in 1832 a constitution was promulgated, and the territory\ndivided into eighteen provinces, each of which was to have control of\nits local affairs. The president was to hold office for four years; and\nthe first on whom the dignity was bestowed was General Francisco de\nPaula Santander. His position, however, was far from enviable; for the\ncountry was full of all the elements of unrest and contention. One of\nhis measures, by which New Granada became responsible for the half of\nthe debts of the defunct republic of Colombia, gave serious offence to a\nlarge party, and he was consequently succeeded not, as he desired, by\nJose Maria Obando, but by a member of the opposition, Jose Ignacio de\nMarquez. This gave rise to a civil war, which lasted till 1841, and not\nonly left the country weak and miserable, but afforded an evil precedent\nwhich has since been too frequently followed. The contest terminated in\nfavour of Marquez, and he was succeeded in May 1841 by Pedro Alcantara\nHerran, who had assisted to obtain the victory. In 1840 the province of\nCartagena had seceded, and the new president had hardly taken office\nbefore Panama and Veragua also declared themselves independent, under\nthe title of the State of the Isthmus of Panama. Their restoration was,\nhowever, soon effected; the constitution was reformed in 1843; education\nwas fostered, and a treaty concluded with the English creditors of the\nrepublic. Further progress was made under General Tomas de Mosquera from\n1845 to 1848; a large part of the domestic debt was cleared off,\nimmigration was encouraged, and free trade permitted in gold and\ntobacco. The petty war with Ecuador, concluded by the peace of Santa\nRosa de Carchi, is hardly worthy of mention. From 1849 to 1852 the reins\nwere in the hands of General Jose Hilario Lopez, a member of the\ndemocratic party, and under him various changes were effected of a\nliberal tendency. In January 1852 slavery was entirely abolished. The\nnext president was Jose Maria Obando, but his term of office had to be\ncompleted by vice-presidents Obaldia and Mallarino.\n\nIn 1853 an important alteration of the constitution took place, by which\nthe right was granted to every province to declare itself independent,\nand to enter into merely federal connexion with the central republic,\nwhich was now known as the Granadine Confederation. In 1856 and 1857\nAntioquia and Panama took advantage of the permission. The Conservative\nparty carried their candidate in 1857, Mariano Ospino, a lawyer by\nprofession; but an insurrection broke out in 1859, which was fostered by\nthe ex-president Mosquera, and finally took the form of a regular civil\nwar. Bogota was captured by the democrats in July 1861, and Mosquera\nassumed the chief power. A congress at Bogota established a republic,\nwith the name of the United States of Colombia, adopted a new federal\nconstitution, and made Mosquera dictator. Meanwhile the opposite party\nwas victorious in the west; and their leader, Julio Arboleda, formed an\nalliance with Don Garcia Moreno, the president of Ecuador. He was\nassassinated, however, in 1862; and his successor, Leonardo Canal, came\nto terms with Mosquera at Cali. The dictatorship was resigned into the\nhands of a convention (February 1863) at Rio <DW64>, in Antioquia; a\nprovisional government was appointed, a constitution was drawn up, and\nMosquera elected president till 1864. An unsuccessful attempt was also\nmade to restore the union between the three republics of the former\nfederation. The presidency of Manuel Murillo Toro (1864-1866) was\ndisturbed by various rebellions, and even Mosquera, who next came to the\nhelm, found matters in such a disorganized condition that he offered to\nretire. On the refusal of his resignation, he entered into a struggle\nwith the majority in the congress, and ultimately resorted to an\nadjournment and the unconstitutional arrest of 68 of the senators and\nrepresentatives. To the decree of impeachment published by the congress\nhe replied by a notice of dissolution and a declaration of war; but he\nsoon found that the real power was with his opponents, who effected his\narrest, and condemned him first to two years' imprisonment, but\nafterwards by commutation to two years' exile. The presidency of Santos\nGutierrez (1868-1870) was disturbed by insurrections in different parts\nof the republic, the most important of which was that in Panama, where\nthe most absolute disorganization prevailed. Under his successor,\nGeneral E. Salgar, a Liberal candidate elected in opposition to General\nHerran, a treaty was finally concluded with the United States in\nconnexion with an interoceanic canal, a bank was established at Bogota,\nand educational reforms instituted. Manuel Murillo Toro (1872-1874) and\nSantiago Perez (1874-1876) saw the country apparently acquiring\nconstitutional equilibrium, and turning its energies to the development\nof its matchless resources.\n\nThe election for the presidential term 1876-1878 resulted in favour of\nAquiles Parra, who was succeeded in April 1878 by General Julian\nTrujillo. His administration was marked by a strong effort to place the\nfinancial position of the government on a more satisfactory footing, and\nthe internal indebtedness was substantially reduced during his rule. In\nApril 1880 Senor Rafael Nunez acceded to the presidency. During his term\nof office revolutionary disturbances occurred in the provinces of Cauca\nand Antioquia, but were suppressed with no great difficulty. Provision\nwas made in 1880 for a settlement of the boundary dispute with Costa\nRica, and in July of that year the federal Congress authorized the\nformation of a naval squadron. A movement was now set afoot in favour of\na confederation of the three republics of Colombia, Ecuador and\nVenezuela on the basis of the original conditions existing after the\nexpulsion of Spanish authority, and a resolution was passed by the\nchamber of deputies to that effect. The opposition shown by Venezuela\nand Ecuador to this project prevented any definite result from being\nachieved. In April 1882 Senor Francisco J. Laldua became president, but\nhis death occurring a year later, General Jose Eusebio Otalora was\nnominated to exercise the executive power for the unexpired portion of\nthe term. In 1883 the dispute in connexion with the boundary between\nColombia and Venezuela was submitted by the two governments to the\narbitration of Alphonso XII., king of Spain, and a commission of five\nmembers was appointed to investigate the merits of the respective\nclaims. The decision in this dispute was finally given by the queen\nregent of Spain on the 16th of March 1891. In April 1884 Senor Rafael\nNunez was again proclaimed president of the republic in his absence\nabroad. Pending his return the administration was left in the hands of\nGeneral Campo Serrano and General Eliseo Payan. The Liberal party had\nbeen instrumental in the re-election of Nunez, and looked for a policy\nin conformity with their views and political convictions. President\nNunez had no sooner returned to Colombia than the Liberals discovered\nthat his political opinions had changed and had become strongly\nConservative. Discontent at this condition of affairs soon spread. Nunez\nfrom motives of ill-health did not openly assume the presidential\noffice, but from his house near Cartagena he practically directed the\ngovernment of the republic. The Liberals now began to foment a series of\nrevolutionary movements, and these led in 1885 to a civil war extending\nover the departments of Boyaca, Cundinamarca, Magdalena and Panama.\nGeneral Reyes and General Velez were the two principal leaders of the\nrevolt. In order to protect the passage of the traffic across the\nIsthmus of Panama during these disturbed times detachments of United\nStates marines were landed at Panama and Colon, in accordance with the\nterms of the concession under which the railway had been constructed.\nAfter a number of defeats the leaders of the revolt surrendered in\nAugust 1885, and on the 5th of September following peace was officially\nproclaimed. Nunez, who had meanwhile assumed the presidential duties,\nnow brought about a movement in favour of a fresh Act of Constitution\nfor Colombia, and a new law to that effect was finally approved and\npromulgated on 4th August 1886. Under the terms of this act the federal\nsystem of government for Colombia was abolished, the states becoming\ndepartments, the governors of these political divisions being appointed\nby the president of the republic. Each department has a local\nlegislative assembly elected by the people. The national congress is\nconstituted of the Senate and the House of Representatives. The Senate\nis composed of twenty-seven members elected for six years, one-third\nretiring every two years, three of whom are nominated by each of the\nnine departments. The House of Representatives comprises members elected\nfor four years by universal suffrage, each department forming a\nconstituency and returning one member for every 50,000 inhabitants.\nCongress convenes every two years. The presidential term of office under\nthe new act was fixed at six years in place of the two years formerly\nprevailing. The judiciary was irremovable, and trial by jury was allowed\nfor criminal offences. Capital punishment was re-established, and the\npress was made responsible for matter published. The unlicensed trade in\narms and ammunition thitherto existing was prohibited. Previous to 1886\nthe crime of murder was only punishable by 10 years' imprisonment, a\nsentence which in practice was reduced to two-thirds of that term;\nslander and libel were formerly offences which the law had no power to\nrestrain, and no responsibility attached to seditious publications.\n\nAfter the promulgation of this new Act of Constitution President Nunez\nwas proclaimed as president of the republic for the term ending in 1892.\nHe was unable, however, in consequence of ill-health, to reside at\nBogota and discharge the presidential duties, and consequently in August\n1888 Senor Carlos Holguin was designated to act for him. In 1892\nPresident Nunez was again elected to the presidency for a term of six\nyears, his continued ill-health, however, forcing him to place the\nactive performance of his duties in the hands of the vice-president,\nSenor Miguel Caro. In 1895 the Liberals made another attempt to seize\nthe government of the country, but the movement was suppressed without\nany very great difficulty. In this same year Nunez died, and\nVice-President Caro became the actual president, an office he had\npractically filled during the three previous years. In 1898 Senor M. A.\nSanclemente, a strong Conservative, and supported by the Church party,\nwas elected to the presidency for the period ending in 1904. In October\n1899 the Liberals organized another revolutionary outbreak for the\npurpose of trying to wrest the power from Conservatives, but this\nattempt had no better success than the movements of 1885 and 1895. In\nJanuary 1900, however, Vice-President Jose Marroquin seized upon the\ngovernment, imprisoned President Sanclemente (who died in prison in\nMarch 1902), and another period of disturbance began. The rebels were\ndefeated in May in a desperate battle at Cartagena; and continuous\nfighting went on about Panama, where British marines had to be landed to\nprotect foreign interests. As the year 1900 advanced, the conflict went\non with varying success, but the government troops were generally\nvictorious, and in August Vice-President Marroquin was recognized as the\nacting head of the executive, with a cabinet under General Calderon. In\n1901 the rebellion continued, and severe fighting took place about\nColon. Further complications arose in August, when trouble occurred\nbetween Colombia and Venezuela. On the one hand, there were grounds for\nbelieving that the Clericals and Conservatives in both countries were\nacting together; and, on the other, it was expected that President\nCastro of Venezuela would not be sorry to unite his own countrymen, and\nto divert their attention from internal affairs, by a war against\nColombia. The Colombian revolutionary leaders had made use of the\nVenezuelan frontier as a base of operations, and the result was an\ninvasion of Venezuelan territory by Colombian government troops, an\nincident which at once caused a diplomatic quarrel. The United States\ngovernment in September offered its good offices, but President Castro\nrefused them, and the state of affairs became gradually more menacing.\nMeanwhile both Panama and Colon were seriously threatened by the rebel\nforces, who in November succeeded in capturing Colon by surprise. The\nsituation was complicated by the fact that the railway traffic on the\nIsthmus was in danger of interruption, and on the capture of Colon it\nbecame necessary for the American, British and French naval authorities\nto land men for the protection of the railway and of foreign interests.\n\nOn the 18th of September the Venezuelans, who had entered Colombia, were\ntotally routed near La Hacha, and after fierce fighting the insurgents\nat Colon were compelled to surrender on the 29th of November. But the\nCivil War was not yet ended. For another eight months it was to\ncontinue, causing immense damage to property and trade, and the loss of\ntens of thousands of lives. In many towns and villages the male\npopulation was almost entirely destroyed. Not till June 1903 was\ninternal peace finally restored. In the autumn of that same year\nColombia, exhausted and half ruined, was to suffer a further severe loss\nin the secession of Panama.\n\nThe abrogation of the Clayton-Bulwer treaty in 1901, and the failure of\nthe second French company to construct a canal between Colon and Panama\n(see PANAMA CANAL) had, after many hesitations, induced the United\nStates government to abandon the Nicaragua route and decide on adopting\nthat of Panama. Negotiations were set on foot with Colombia, and an\narrangement--under what was known as the Hay-Herran treaty--was made to\nthe following effect. Colombia agreed (1) to the transfer of the rights,\nunder the concession, of the French company to the United States; (2) to\ncede, on a hundred years' lease, a right of way for the canal, and a\nstrip of land 5m. broad on either side of the waterway, and the two\nports of Colon and Panama. The United States agreed to pay Colombia (1)\nL2,000,000 down in cash, and, ten years later, an annual rental of\nL50,000, and further a share of the price paid to the French company,\n_i.e._ L8,000,000, in which Colombia held 50,000 shares. This treaty was\nsigned by the plenipotentiaries and ratified by the United States\nSenate. The Colombian Congress, however, refused to ratify the treaty on\nthe ground that when the negotiations had taken place the country was in\na state of siege, really in the hope of securing a larger money payment.\nThe adjournment took place on the 31st of October. On the 3rd of\nNovember a revolution broke out at Panama, and the state seceded from\nColombia and declared itself to be an independent republic. This\nopportune revolution was no doubt fomented by persons interested in the\ncarrying through of the United States scheme for piercing the isthmus,\nbut their task was one that presented no difficulties, for the isthmian\npopulation had been in a state of perennial insurrection against the\ncentral government for many years. Whoever may have instigated the\nrising, this much is certain, that American warships prevented the\nColombian troops from landing to suppress the revolt. On the 7th of\nNovember the United States government formally recognized the\nindependence of the republic of Panama (q.v.). The other powers in\nsuccession likewise recognized the new state; the recognition of Great\nBritain was given on the 26th of December. Colombia thus sacrificed a\ngreat opportunity of obtaining, by the ratification of the Hay-Herran\ntreaty, such a pecuniary recompense for the interest in the territory\nthrough which the canal was to be constructed as would have gone far to\nre-establish her ruined financial credit.\n\nIn 1904 the troubled term of President Marroquin came to an end, and by\nthe narrowest of majorities General Rafael Reyes was elected in his\nplace. He had been sent as a special envoy to Washington to protest\nagainst the recognition of Panama, and to attempt to revive the\nHay-Herran treaty, and to secure favourable terms for Colombia in the\nmatter of the canal. He failed to do so, but it was recognized that he\nhad discharged his difficult task with great skill and ability. On his\naccession to office as president he found the country exhausted and\ndisorganized, more especially in the department of finance, and the\ncongress was on the whole hostile to him. Finding himself hampered in\nhis efforts to reform abuses, the president dissolved the congress, and\nsummoned a national constituent and legislative assembly to meet on the\n15th of March 1905, and with its aid proceeded to modify the\nconstitution.\n\nHaving personal acquaintance with the success of the rule of President\nPorfirio Diaz in Mexico, General Reyes determined to set about the\nregeneration of Colombia by similar methods. His tenure of the\npresidency was extended to a term of ten years from the 1st of January\n1905, and the restriction as to re-election at the end of that term was\nwithdrawn, other alterations being made in the constitution with the\neffect of placing General Reyes really in the position of a dictator. He\nsoon proved that he had the ability and the integrity of purpose to use\nhis great opportunity for the benefit of his country. His firm and\nmasterful government and wise measures did much to allay the spirit of\nunrest which had so long been the bane of Colombia, and though an\nattempt at assassination was made in the spring of 1906, the era of\nrevolution appeared to be over.\n\nThe chief foreign treaties entered into by Colombia in the last quarter\nof the 19th century were:--(1) A treaty with Great Britain, signed on\nthe 27th of October 1888, for the extradition of criminals; (2) a treaty\nof friendship, commerce and navigation with Italy, signed on the 27th of\nOctober 1892; (3) two protocols with Italy, signed respectively on the\n24th of May and on the 25th of August 1886, in connexion with the affair\nof the Italian subject Cerruti; (4) a consular convention with Holland,\nsigned on the 20th of July 1881; (5) a treaty of peace and friendship\nwith Spain, signed on the 30th of January 1881; (6) a convention with\nSpain for the reciprocal protection of intellectual property; (7) a\nconcordat with the Vatican, signed on the 31st of December 1887; (8) an\nagreement with the Vatican, signed on the 20th of August 1892, in\nconnexion with ecclesiastical jurisdiction; (9) an agreement with the\nrepublic of San Salvador, signed on the 24th of December 1880, in regard\nto the despatch of a delegate to an international congress; (10) a\ntreaty of peace, friendship and commerce with Germany, signed on the\n23rd of July 1892; (11) a treaty with the republic of Costa Rica, signed\nin 1880, for the delimitation of the boundary; (12) the postal\nconvention, signed at Washington, on the 4th of July 1891; (13) a\nconvention with Great Britain, signed on the 31st of July 1896, in\nconnexion with the claim of Messrs Punchard, M'Taggart, Lowther & Co.;\n(14) a treaty of friendship, commerce and navigation with Peru, signed\non the 6th of August 1898; (15) an extradition treaty with Peru, signed\non the 6th of August 1898; (16) a treaty of peace, friendship and\ndefensive alliance with Venezuela, signed on the 21st of November 1896,\nand on the same date a treaty regulating the frontier commerce. (G. E.)\n\n  AUTHORITIES.--C. E. Akers, _A History of South America, 1854-1904_\n  (New York, 1905); J. J. Borda, _Compendio de historia de Colombia_\n  (Bogota, 1890); Salvador Roldan Camacho, _Notas de viaje_ (Bogota,\n  1890), and _Escritos varios_ (Bogota, 1892); Dr Alfred Hettner,\n  _Reisen in den colombianischen Anden_ (Leipzig, 1888); Angel Lemos,\n  _Compendio de geografia de la Republica de Colombia_ (Medellin, 1894);\n  Albert Millican, _Travels and Adventures of an Orchid Hunter_ (London,\n  1891); J. M. Cordovez Mauro, _Reminiscencias Santafe y Bogota_\n  (Bogota, 1899); Norris and Laird (Bureau of Navigation), _Telegraphic\n  Determination of Longitudes in Mexico, Central America, the West\n  Indies, and on the North Coast of South America_ (Washington, 1891);\n  R. Nunez and H. Jalhay, _La Republique de Colombia, geographie,\n  histoire, &c._ (Bruxelles, 1893); J. M. Q. Otero, _Historia Patria_\n  (Bogota, 1891); Lisimaco Palau, _La Republica de Colombia_ (1893); M.\n  Paz and F. Perez, _Atlas geografico e historico de la Republica de\n  Colombia_ (1893); R. S. Pereira, _Les Etats Unis de Colombia_ (Paris,\n  1883); Felipe Perez, _Geografia general, fisica y politica de los\n  Estados Unidos de Colombia_ (Bogota, 1883); F. Loraine Petrie, _The\n  Republic of Colombia_ (London, 1906); Elisee Reclus, _Geografia de\n  Colombia_ (Bogota, 1893); W. Reiss and A. Stubel, _Reisen in\n  Sudamerika. Geologische Studien in der Republik Colombia_ (Berlin,\n  1893); Ernesto Restrepo, _Ensayo etnografico y arqueologico de la\n  provincia de los Quimbayas_ (Bogota, 1892), and _Estudios sobre los\n  aborigines de Colombia_ (Bogota, 1892); Vicente Restrepo, _Estudio\n  sobre las minas de oro y plata de Colombia_ (Bogota, 1888, translated\n  by C. W. Fisher, New York, 1886); W. L. Scruggs, _The Colombian and\n  Venezuelan Republics_ (London, 1899; Boston, 1900); W. Sievers,\n  _Reisen in der Sierra Nevada de Santa Marta_ (Leipzig, 1887); F. J.\n  Vergara y Velasco, _Nueva geografia de Colombia_ (Bogota, 1892); Frank\n  Vincent, _Around and About South America_ (New York, 1890); R. G.\n  Watson, _Spanish and Portuguese South America during the Colonial\n  Period_ (2 vols., London, 1884).\n\n  See also the diplomatic and consular reports of Great Britain and the\n  United States; publications of the International Bureau of American\n  Republics (Washington, D.C.); Bureau of Statistics, _Commercial\n  America in 1905_ (Washington, 1906).\n\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n  [1] See A. Hettner and G. Linck, \"Beitrage zur Geologie und\n    Petrographie der columbianischen Anden,\" _Zeits. deutsch. geol. Ges._\n    vol. xl. (1888), pp. 204-230; W. Sievers, \"Die Sierra Nevada de Santa\n    Marta und die Sierra de Perija,\" _Zeits. Ges. Erdk. Berlin_, vol.\n    xxiii. (1888), pp. 1-158 and p. 442, Pls. i. and iii.; A. Hettner,\n    \"Die Kordillere von Bogota,\" _Peterm. Mitt._, Erganzungsheft 104\n    (1892), and \"Die Anden des westlichen Columbiens,\" _Peterm. Mitt._\n    (1893), pp. 129-136; W. Reiss and A. Stubel, _Reisen in Sud America.\n    Geologische Studien in der Republik Colombia_ (Berlin, 1892-1899),--a\n    good geological bibliography will be found in part ii. of this work.\n\n\n\n\nCOLOMBIER, PIERRE BERTRAND DE (1299-1361), French cardinal and\ndiplomatist, was born at Colombier in Ardeche. He was nephew and\nnamesake of Cardinal Pierre Bertrand of Annonay. After a careful\njuristic education he was successively advocate at the parlement of\nParis, intendant of the council of the count of Nevers (1321), and\ncounsellor-clerk to the parlement (1329). Having taken holy orders, he\nbecame dean of St Quentin in 1330, and was employed to negotiate the\nmarriage of the duke of Normandy, the future king John the Good of\nFrance, with the daughter of the king of Bohemia. In 1335 he became\nbishop of Nevers, in 1339 of Arras, and contributed to bring the county\nof Flanders into the kingdom of France. Created cardinal priest of St\nSusanna in 1344, he was employed by the pope on important missions,\nnotably to negotiate peace or an armistice between France and England.\nHaving become bishop of Ostia in 1353, he was sent next year to Charles\nIV. of Germany, and induced him to come to Italy to be crowned emperor\nat Rome, 1355. In 1356 he went to France to try to arrange a peace with\nEngland, and died in 1361 at the priory of Montaud near Avignon.\n\n  See A. Mazon, _Essai historique sur l'etat du Vivarais pendant la\n  guerre de cent ans_ (Paris, 1889), with references there.\n\n\n\n\nCOLOMBO, the capital and principal seaport of Ceylon, situated on the\nwest coast of the island. Pop. (1901) 154,691. Colombo stands to the\nsouth of the mouth of the river Kelani. The coast-land is here generally\nlow-lying, but broken by slight eminences. The great artificial harbour,\nenclosed by breakwaters, is bounded on the south by a slight promontory.\nThis is occupied by the quarter of the city known as the Fort, from the\nformer existence of a fort founded by the Portuguese and reconstructed\nby the Dutch. In 1869 the governor, Sir Hercules Robinson (afterwards\nLord Rosmead), obtained authority to demolish the fortifications, which\nwere obsolete for purposes of defence, and required 6000 men to man them\nproperly. The levelling of the walls and filling up of the moat made the\nFort much more accessible and healthy, and since then it has become the\nbusiness centre of the city. Here are situated Queen's House, the\ngovernor's residence; the secretariat or government offices, and other\ngovernment buildings, such as the fine general post office and the\ncustoms house. Here also are most of the principal hotels, which have a\npeculiarly high reputation among European hotels in the East. A lofty\ntower serves as the principal lighthouse of the port and also as a\nclock-tower. On the south side of the Fort are extensive barracks. The\nold banqueting-hall of the Dutch governors is used as the garrison\nchurch of St Peter.\n\nTo the north-east of the Fort, skirting the harbour, are the Pettah, the\nprincipal native quarter, the districts of Kotahena and Mutwall, and\nsuburbs beyond. In this direction the principal buildings are the\nWolfendahl church, a massive Doric building of the Dutch (1749); the\nsplendid Roman Catholic cathedral of St Lucia (completed in 1904); and\nSt Thomas's College (1851), which follows the lines of an English public\nschool. Close to this last is the Anglican cathedral of Christ Church.\nThe Kotahena temple is the chief Buddhist temple in Colombo.\n\nTo the north-east of the Fort is the Lake, a ramifying sheet of fresh\nwater, which adds greatly to the beauty of the site of Colombo, its\nbanks being clothed with luxuriant foliage and flowers. The narrow\nisthmus between this lake and the sea, south of the Fort, is called\nGalle Face, and is occupied chiefly by promenades and recreation\ngrounds. The peninsula enclosed by two arms of the Lake is known as\nSlave Island, having been the site of a slave's prison under the Dutch.\nSouth-east of this is the principal residential quarter of Colombo, with\nthe circular Victoria Park as its centre. To the east of the park a\nseries of parallel roads, named after former British governors, are\nlined with beautiful bungalows embowered in trees. This locality is\ngenerally known as the Cinnamon Gardens, as it was formerly a Dutch\nreserve for the cultivation of the cinnamon bush, many of which are\nstill growing here. In the park is the fine Colombo Museum, founded by\nSir William Gregory; and near the neighbouring Campbell Park are the\nhandsome buildings of a number of institutions, such as Wesley College,\nand the General, Victoria Memorial Eye and other hospitals. South of\nVictoria Park is the Havelock racecourse. Among educational\nestablishments not hitherto mentioned are the Royal College, the\nprincipal government institution, the government technical college and\nSt Joseph's Roman Catholic college. Most of the town is lighted by gas,\nand certain quarters with electric light, and electric tramways have\nbeen laid over several miles of the city roads. The water-supply is\ndrawn from a hill region 30 m. distant.\n\nUnder British rule Colombo has shared in the prosperity brought to the\nisland by the successive industries of coffee and tea-planting. At the\nheight of the coffee-growing enterprise 20,000 men, women and children,\nchiefly Sinhalese and Tamils, found employment in the large factories\nand stores of the merchants scattered over the town, where the coffee\nwas cleaned, prepared, sorted and packed for shipment. Tea, on the\ncontrary, is prepared and packed on the estates; but there is a\nconsiderable amount of work still done in the Colombo stores in sorting,\nblending and repacking such teas as are sold at the local public sales;\nalso in dealing with cacao, cardamoms, cinchona bark and the remnant\nstill left of the coffee industry. But it is to its position as one of\nthe great ports of call of the East that Colombo owes its great and\nincreasing importance. A magnificent breakwater, 4200 ft. long, the\nfirst stone of which was laid by the prince of Wales in 1875, was\ncompleted in 1884. This breakwater changed an open roadstead into a\nharbour completely sheltered on the most exposed or south-west side; but\nthere was still liability in certain months to storms from the\nnorth-west and south-east. Two additional arms were therefore\nconstructed, consisting of a north-east and north-west breakwater,\nleaving two openings, one 800 ft. and the other 700 ft. wide, between\nthe various sections. The area enclosed is 660 acres. A first-class\ngraving-dock, of which the Admiralty bore half the cost, has also been\nadded. These improvements caused Galle to be abandoned as a port of call\nfor steamers in favour of Colombo, while Trincomalee has been abandoned\nas a naval station. The port has assumed first-class importance, mail\nsteamers calling regularly as well as men-of-war and the mercantile\nmarine of all nations; and it is now one of the finest artificial\nharbours in the world. The extension of railways also has concentrated\nthe trade of the island upon the capital, and contributed to its rise in\nprosperity.\n\nColombo was originally known as the Kalantotta or Kalany ferry. By the\nArabs the name was changed to Kolambu, and the town was mentioned by Ibn\nBatuta in 1346 as the largest and finest in Serendib. In 1517 the\nPortuguese effected a settlement, and in 1520 they fortified their port\nand bade defiance to the native besiegers. In 1586 the town was invested\nby Raja Singh, but without success. On its capture by the Dutch in 1656\nit was a flourishing colony with convents of five religious orders,\nchurches and public offices, inhabited by no fewer than 900 noble\nfamilies and 1500 families dependent on mercantile or political\noccupations. In 1796 it was surrendered to the British.\n\n\n\n\nCOLON (formerly known as ASPINWALL), a city of the Republic of Panama,\non the Atlantic coast, in the Bay of Limon, and 47 m. by rail N.W. of\nthe city of Panama. Pop. (1908) about 3000, consisting largely of\nJamaica <DW64>s and natives of mixed Spanish, Indian and African\ndescent. It is served by the Panama railway, which crosses the Isthmus\nof Panama from ocean to ocean. Colon has a deep, though poorly sheltered\nharbour, and is either the terminus or a place of call for seven lines\nof steamships. It thus serves as an entrepot for much of the commerce\nbetween Atlantic and Pacific ports, and between the interior towns of\nCentral and South America and the cities of Europe and the United\nStates. The city lies on the west side of the low island of Manzanillo,\nis bordered on the landward sides by swamp, and consists mainly of\nunimposing frame houses and small shops. The most attractive parts are\nthe American quarter, where the employes of the Panama railway have\ntheir homes, and the old French quarter, where dwelt the French officers\nduring their efforts to build the canal. In this last district, near the\nmouth of the old canal, stands a fine statue of Christopher Columbus,\nthe gift of the empress Eugenie in 1870. Here also stands the mansion\nerected and occupied by Ferdinand de Lesseps during his residence on the\nisthmus. With the exception of railway shops, there are no important\nindustrial establishments.\n\nColon dates its origin from the year 1850, when the island of Manzanillo\nwas selected as the Atlantic terminus of the Panama railway. The\nsettlement was at first called Aspinwall, in honour of William H.\nAspinwall (1807-1875), one of the builders of the railway; but some\nyears afterwards its name was changed by legislative enactment to Colon,\nin honour of Christopher Columbus, who entered Limon Bay in 1502. The\noriginal name, however, survived among the English-speaking inhabitants\nfor many years after this change. With the completion of the railway in\n1855, the town supplanted Chagres (q.v.) as the principal Atlantic port\nof the isthmus. Later it acquired increased importance through its\nselection by de Lesseps as the site for the Atlantic entrance to his\ncanal. During the revolution of 1885 it was partly burned and was\nrebuilt on a somewhat larger plan. As the city has always been\nnotoriously unhealthful, the United States, on undertaking the\nconstruction of the Panama Canal (q.v.), became interested in preventing\nits becoming a centre of infection for the Canal Zone, and by the treaty\nof November 1903 secured complete jurisdiction in the city and harbour\nover all matters relating to sanitation and quarantine, and engaged to\nconstruct a system of waterworks and sewers in the municipality, which\nhad been practically completed in 1907. The United States government has\nalso opened a port at Cristobal, within the Canal Zone.\n\n\n\n\nCOLON, a town of Matanzas province, Cuba, on the railway between\nMatanzas and Santa Clara, and the centre of a rich sugar-planting\ncountry. Pop. (1907) 7124.\n\n\n\n\nCOLON, (1) (Gr. [Greek: kolon], miswritten and mispronounced as [Greek:\nkolon], the term being taken from [Greek: kolos], curtailed), in\nanatomy, that part of the greater intestine which extends from the\ncaecum to the rectum (see ALIMENTARY CANAL). (2.) (Gr. [Greek: kolon], a\nmember or part), originally in Greek rhetoric a short clause longer\nthan the \"comma,\" hence a mark (:), in punctuation, used to show a break\nin construction greater than that marked by the semicolon (;), and less\nthan that marked by the period or full stop. The sign is also used in\npsalters and the like to mark off periods for chanting. The word is\napplied in palaeography to a unit of measure in MSS., amounting in\nlength to a hexameter line.\n\n\n\n\nCOLONEL (derived either from Lat. _columna_, Fr. _colonne_, column, or\nLat. _corona_, a crown), the superior officer of a regiment of infantry\nor cavalry; also an officer of corresponding rank in the general army\nlist. The colonelcy of a regiment formerly implied a proprietary right\nin it. Whether the colonel commanded it directly in the field or not, he\nalways superintended its finance and interior economy, and the\nemoluments of the office, in the 18th century, were often the only form\nof pay drawn by general officers. The general officers of the 17th and\n18th centuries were invariably colonels of regiments, and in this case\nthe active command was exercised by the lieutenant-colonels. At the\npresent day, British general officers are often, though not always,\ngiven the colonelcy of a regiment, which has become almost purely an\nhonorary office. The sovereign, foreign sovereigns, royal princes and\nothers, hold honorary colonelcies, as colonels-in-chief or honorary\ncolonels of many regiments. In other armies, the regiment being a\nfighting unit, the colonel is its active commander; in Great Britain the\nlieutenant-colonel commands in the field the battalion of infantry and\nthe regiment of cavalry. Colonels are actively employed in the army at\nlarge in staff appointments, brigade commands, &c. extra-regimentally.\nColonel-general, a rank formerly used in many armies, still survives in\nthe German service, a colonel-general (_General-Oberst_) ranking between\na general of infantry, cavalry or artillery, and a general field marshal\n(_General-Feldmarschall_). Colonels-general are usually given the\nhonorary rank of general field marshal.\n\n\n\n\nCOLONIAL OFFICE, the department of the administration of the United\nKingdom which deals with questions affecting the various colonial\npossessions of the British crown. The department as it now exists is of\ncomparatively modern creation, dating only from 1854. The affairs of the\nEnglish colonies began to assume importance at the Restoration, and were\nat first entrusted to a committee of the privy council, but afterwards\ntransferred to a commission created by letters patent. From 1672 to 1675\nthe council for trade was combined with this commission, but in the\nlatter year the colonies were again placed under the control of the\nprivy council. This arrangement continued until 1695, when a Board of\nTrade and Plantations was created; its duty, however, was confined to\ncollecting information and giving advice when required. The actual\nexecutive work was performed by the secretary of state for the southern\ndepartment, who was assisted, from 1768 to 1782, by a secretary of state\nfor the colonies. Both the Board of Trade and Plantations and the\nadditional secretary were abolished in 1782, and the executive business\nwholly given over to the home office. In 1794 a third secretary of state\nwas reappointed, and in 1801 this secretary was designated as secretary\nof state for war and the colonies. In 1854 the two offices were\nseparated, and a distinct office of secretary of state for the colonies\ncreated.\n\nThe secretary of state for the colonies is the official medium of\ncommunication with colonial governments; he has certain administrative\nduties respecting crown colonies, and has a right of advising the veto\nof an act of a colonial legislature--this veto, however, is never\nexercised in the case of purely local statutes. He is assisted by a\npermanent and a parliamentary under-secretary and a considerable\nclerical staff.\n\nAs reorganized in 1907 the colonial office consists of three chief\ndepartments: (1) the Dominions Department, dealing with the affairs of\nthe self-governing over-sea dominions of the British crown, and of\ncertain other possessions geographically connected with those dominions;\n(2) the Colonial Department, dealing with the affairs of crown colonies\nand protectorates; (3) the General Department, dealing with legal,\nfinancial and other general business. In addition to these three\ndepartments, standing committees exist to take a collective view of\nsuch matters as contracts, concessions, mineral and other leases, and\npatronage.\n\n\n\n\nCOLONNA, a noble Roman family, second only to the Gaetani di Sermoneta\nin antiquity, and first of all the Roman houses in importance. The popes\nMarcellinus, Sixtus III., Stephen IV. and Adrian III. are said to have\nbeen members of it, but the authentic pedigree of the family begins with\nPietro, lord of Columna, Palestrina and Paliano (about 1100), probably a\nbrother of Pope Benedict IX. His great grandson Giovanni had two sons,\nrespectively the founders of the Colonna di Paliano and Colonna di\nSciarra lines. The third, or Colonna-Romano line, is descended from\nFederigo Colonna (1223). In the 12th century we find the Colonna as\ncounts of Tusculum, and the family was then famous as one of the most\npowerful and turbulent of the great Roman clans; its feuds with the\nOrsini and the Gaetani are a characteristic feature of medieval Rome and\nthe Campagna; like the other great nobles of the Campagna the Colonna\nplundered travellers and cities, and did not even spare the pope himself\nif they felt themselves injured by him. Boniface VIII. attempted to\nbreak their power, excommunicated them in 1297, and confiscated their\nestates. He proclaimed a crusade against them and captured Palestrina,\nbut they afterwards revenged themselves by besieging him at Anagni, and\nSciarra Colonna laid violent hands on His Holiness, being with\ndifficulty restrained from actually murdering him (1303). In 1347 the\nColonna, at that time almost an independent power, were defeated by Cola\ndi Rienzi, but soon recovered. Pope Martin V. (1417-1431) was a Colonna,\nand conferred immense estates on his family, including Marino, Frascati,\nRocca di Papa, Nettuno, Palinao, &c., in the Campagna, and other fiefs\nin Romagna and Umbria. Their goods were frequently confiscated and\nfrequently given back, and the house was subject to many changes of\nfortune; during the reign of Pope Alexander VI. they were again humbled,\nbut they always remained powerful and important, and members of the\nfamily rose to eminence as generals, prelates and statesmen in the\nservice of the Church or other powers. In the war of 1522 between France\nand Spain there were Colonna on both sides, and at the battle of Lepanto\n(1571) Marc Antonio Colonna, who commanded the papal contingent, greatly\ndistinguished himself. A detailed record of the Colonna family would be\na history of Rome. To-day there are three lines of Colonna: (1) Colonna\ndi Paliano, with two branches, the princes and dukes of Paliano, and the\nprinces of Stigliano; (2) Colonna di Sciarra, with two branches, Colonna\ndi Sciarra, princes of Carbagnano, and Barberini-Colonna, princes of\nPalestrina; and (3) Colonna-Romano. The Colonna palace, one of the\nfinest in Rome, was begun by Martin V. and contains a valuable picture\nand sculpture gallery.\n\n  See A. von Reumont, _Geschichte der Stadt Rom_ (Berlin, 1868),\n  containing an elaborate account of the family; F. Gregorovius,\n  _Geschichte der Stadt Rom_ (Stuttgart, 1872); _Almanack de Gotha_.\n       (L. V.*)\n\n\n\n\nCOLONNA, GIOVANNI PAOLO (_circa_ 1637-1695), Italian musician, was born\nin Bologna about 1637 and died in the same city on the 28th of November\n1695. He was a pupil of Filippuzzi in Bologna, and of Abbatini and\nBenevoli in Rome, where for a time he held the post of organist at S.\nApollinare. A dated poem in praise of his music shows that he began to\ndistinguish himself as a composer in 1659. In that year he was chosen\norganist at S. Petronio in Bologna, where on the 1st of November 1674 he\nwas made chapel-master. He also became president of the Philharmonic\nAcademy of Bologna. Most of Colonna's works are for the church,\nincluding settings of the psalms for three, four, five and eight voices,\nand several masses and motets. He also composed an opera, under the\ntitle _Amilcare_, and an oratorio, _La Profezia d' Eliseo_. The emperor\nLeopold I. received a copy of every composition of Colonna, so that the\nimperial library in Vienna possesses upwards of 83 church compositions\nby him. Colonna's style is for the most part dignified, but is not free\nfrom the inequalities of style and taste almost unavoidable at a period\nwhen church music was in a state of transition, and had hardly learnt\nto combine the gravity of the old style with the brilliance of the new.\n\n\n\n\nCOLONNA, VITTORIA (1490-1547), marchioness of Pescara, Italian poet,\ndaughter of Fabrizio Colonna, grand constable of the kingdom of Naples,\nand of Anna da Montefeltro, was born at Marino, a fief of the Colonna\nfamily. Betrothed when four years old at the instance of Ferdinand, king\nof Naples, to Ferrante de Avalos, son of the marquis of Pescara, she\nreceived the highest education and gave early proof of a love of\nletters. Her hand was sought by many suitors, including the dukes of\nSavoy and Braganza, but at nineteen, by her own ardent desire, she was\nmarried to de Avalos on the island of Ischia. There the couple resided\nuntil 1511, when her husband offered his sword to the League against the\nFrench. He was taken prisoner at the battle of Ravenna (1512) and\nconveyed to France. During the months of detention and the long years of\ncampaigning which followed, Vittoria and Ferrante corresponded in the\nmost passionate terms both in prose and verse. They saw each other but\nseldom, for Ferrante was one of the most active and brilliant captains\nof Charles V.; but Vittoria's influence was sufficient to keep him from\njoining the projected league against the emperor after the battle of\nPavia (1525), and to make him refuse the crown of Naples offered to him\nas the price of his treason. In the month of November of the same year\nhe died of his wounds at Milan. Vittoria, who was hastening to tend him,\nreceived the news of his death at Viterbo; she halted and turned off to\nRome, and after a brief stay departed for Ischia, where she remained for\nseveral years. She refused several suitors, and began to produce those\n_Rime spirituali_ which form so distinct a feature in her works. In 1529\nshe returned to Rome, and spent the next few years between that city,\nOrvieto, Ischia and other places. In 1537 we find her at Ferrara, where\nshe made many friends and helped to establish a Capuchin monastery at\nthe instance of the reforming monk Bernardino Ochino, who afterwards\nbecame a Protestant. In 1539 she was back in Rome, where, besides\nwinning the esteem of Cardinals Reginald Pole and Contarini, she became\nthe object of a passionate friendship on the part of Michelangelo, then\nin his sixty-fourth year. The great artist addressed some of his finest\nsonnets to her, made drawings for her, and spent long hours in her\nsociety. Her removal to Orvieto and Viterbo in 1541, on the occasion of\nher brother Ascanio Colonna's revolt against Paul III., produced no\nchange in their relations, and they continued to visit and correspond as\nbefore. She returned to Rome in 1544, staying as usual at the convent of\nSan Silvestro, and died there on the 25th of February 1547.\n\nCardinal Bembo, Luigi Alamanni and Baldassare Castiglione were among her\nliterary friends. She was also on intimate terms with many of the\nItalian Protestants, such as Pietro Carnesecchi, Juan de Valdes and\nOchino, but she died before the church crisis in Italy became acute,\nand, although she was an advocate of religious reform, there is no\nreason to believe that she herself became a Protestant. Her life was a\nbeautiful one, and goes far to counteract the impression of the\nuniversal corruption of the Italian Renaissance conveyed by such careers\nas those of the Borgia. Her amatory and elegiac poems, which are the\nfruits of a sympathetic and dainty imitative gift rather than of any\nstrong original talent, were printed at Parma in 1538; a third edition,\ncontaining sixteen of her _Rime Spirituali_, in which religious themes\nare treated in Italian, was published at Florence soon afterwards; and a\nfourth, including a still larger proportion of the pious element, was\nissued at Venice in 1544.\n\n  A great deal has been written about Vittoria Colonna, but perhaps the\n  best account of her life is A. Luzio's _Vittoria Colonna_ (Modena,\n  1885); A. von Reumont's _Vita di Vittoria Colonna_ (Italian corrected\n  edit., Turin, 1883) is also excellent; F. le Fevre's _Vittoria\n  Colonna_ (Paris, 1856) is somewhat inaccurate, but T. Roscoe's\n  _Vittoria Colonna_ (London, 1868) may be recommended to English\n  readers; P. E. Visconti's _Le Rime di Vittoria Colonna_ (Rome, 1846)\n  deals with her poems.     (L. V.*)\n\n\n\n\nCOLONNADE, in architecture, a range of columns (Ital. _colonna_) in a\nrow. When extended so as to enclose a temple, it is called a peristyle,\nand the same term applies when round an open court, as in the houses at\nPompeii. When projecting in front of a building, it is called a portico,\nas in the Pantheon at Rome and the National Gallery in London. When\nenclosed between wings, as in Perrault's facade to the Louvre, it is\ncorrectly described as a colonnade. Colonnades lined the streets of the\ntowns in Syria and Asia Minor, and they were largely employed in Rome.\n\n\n\n\nCOLONSAY, an island of the Inner Hebrides, Argyllshire, Scotland, 10 m.\nS. of the Ross of Mull. It is 7-1\/2 m. long by 3 m. broad. The highest\npoint is Carnan Eoin (470 ft.). Towards the middle of the island lies\nLoch Fada, nearly 2 m. long but very narrow, and there are two other\nsmall lakes and a few streams. The coast-line, with frequent beautiful\nsandy reaches, is much indented, the chief bays being Kiloran,\nKilchattan and Staosunaig. On the north-western coast the cliffs are\nparticularly fine. To the south, separated by a strait that is fordable\nat low water, lies the isle of ORONSAY, 2-1\/4 m. long by 2-3\/4 m. wide. Both\nislands contain a number of ecclesiastical remains, standing stones, and\nsome beautiful sculptured crosses. They are named after Columba and\nOran, who are said to have stopped here after they left Ireland. There\nis regular communication between Scalasaig and Glasgow and the Clyde\nports. The golf-course at Kilchattan lends a touch of modernity to these\nremote islands. Near Scalasaig a granite obelisk has been erected to the\nmemory of Sir Duncan M'Neill (1794-1874), a distinguished Scottish\nlawyer, who took the title of Lord Colonsay when he became a lord of\nappeal. The soil of both islands is fertile, potatoes and barley being\nraised and cattle pastured. Population: Colonsay (1901), 301; Oronsay\n(1901), 12.\n\n\n\n\nCOLONY (Lat. _colonia_, from _colonus_, a cultivator), a term most\ncommonly used to denote a settlement of the subjects of a sovereign\nstate in lands beyond its boundaries, owning no allegiance to any\nforeign power, and retaining a greater or less degree of dependence on\nthe mother country. The founding and the growth of such communities\nfurnish matter for an interesting chapter in the history as well of\nancient as of modern civilization; and the regulation of the relations\nbetween the parent state and its dependencies abroad gives rise to\nimportant problems alike in national policy and in international\neconomics.\n\nIt was mainly the spirit of commercial enterprise that led the\nPhoenicians to plant their colonies upon the islands and along the\nsouthern coast of the Mediterranean; and even beyond the Pillars of\nHercules this earliest great colonizing race left enduring traces of its\nmaritime supremacy. Carthage, indeed, chief of the Phoenician\nsettlements, sent forth colonies to defend her conquests and strengthen\nher military power; and these sub-colonies naturally remained in strict\nsubjection to her power, whereas the other young Phoenician states\nassumed and asserted entire independence.\n\nIn this latter respect the Greek colonies resembled those of the\nPhoenicians. From a very early period the little civic communities of\nGreece had sent forth numerous colonizing streams. At points so far\nasunder as the Tauric Chersonese, Cyrene and Massilia were found\nprosperous centres of Greek commercial energy; but the regions most\nthickly peopled by settlers of Greek descent were the western seaboard\nof Asia Minor, Sicily and the southern parts of the Italian peninsula.\nNor were the least prosperous communities those which were sprung from\nearlier colonies. The causes that led to the foundation of the Greek\ncolonies were very various. As in Phoenicia, pressure created by the\nnarrow limits of the home country coincided with an adventurous desire\nto seek new sources of wealth beyond seas; but very many Greek\nemigrations were caused by the expulsion of the inhabitants of conquered\ncities, or by the intolerable domination of a hated but triumphant\nfaction within the native state. The polity of the new community, often\nfounded in defiance of the home authorities, might either be a copy of\nthat just left behind or be its direct political antithesis. But\nwherever they went, and whether, as apparently in Asia Minor, Greek\nblood was kept free from barbaric mixture, or whether, as in Magna\nGraecia and Sicily, it was mingled with that of the aboriginal races,\nthe Greek emigrants carried with them the Hellenic spirit and the\nHellenic tongue; and the colonies fostered, not infrequently more\nrapidly and more brilliantly than at home, Greek literature, Greek art\nand Greek speculation. The relation to be preserved towards the mother\nstates was seldom or never definitely arranged. But filial feeling and\nestablished custom secured a measure of kindly sympathy, shown by\nprecedence yielded at public games, and by the almost invariable\nabstinence of the colony from a hostile share in wars in which the\nmother city was engaged.\n\nThe relation of Rome to her colonies was altogether different. No Roman\ncolony started without the sanction and direction of the public\nauthority; and while the _Colonia Romano_ differed from the _Colonia\nLatina_ in that the former permitted its members to retain their\npolitical rights intact, the colony, whether planted within the bounds\nof Italy or in provinces such as Gaul or Britain, remained an integral\npart of the Roman state. In the earlier colonies, the state allotted to\nproposing emigrants from amongst the needy or discontented class of\ncitizens portions of such lands as, on the subjection of a hostile\npeople, the state took into its possession as public property. At a\nlater time, especially after the days of Sulla, the distribution of the\nterritories of a vanquished Roman party was employed by the victorious\ngenerals as an easy means of satisfying the claims of the soldiery by\nwhose help they had triumphed. The Roman colonies were thus not merely\nvaluable as _propugnacula_ of the state, as permanent supports to Roman\ngarrisons and armies, but they proved a most effective means of\nextending over wide bounds the language and the laws of Rome, and of\ninoculating the inhabitants of the provinces with more than the\nrudiments of Roman civilization.\n\nThe occupation of the fairest provinces of the Roman empire by the\nnorthern barbarians had little in common with colonization. The Germanic\ninvaders came from no settled state; they maintained loosely, and but\nfor a short while, any form of brotherhood with the allied tribes. A\nnearer parallel to Greek colonization may be found in Iceland, whither\nthe adherents of the old Norse polity fled from the usurpation of Harold\nHaarfager; and the early history of the English pale in Ireland shows,\nthough not in orderliness and prosperity, several points of resemblance\nto the Roman colonial system.\n\nThough both Genoese and Venetians in their day of power planted numerous\ntrading posts on various portions of the Mediterranean shores, of which\nsome almost deserve the name of colonies, the history of modern\ncolonization on a great scale opens with the Spanish conquests in\nAmerica. The first Spanish adventurers came, not to colonize, but to\nsatisfy as rapidly as possible and by the labour of the enslaved\naborigines, their thirst for silver and gold. Their conquests were\nrapid, but the extension of their permanent settlements was gradual and\nslow. The terrible cruelty at first exercised on the natives was\nrestrained, not merely by the zeal of the missionaries, but by effective\nofficial measures; and ultimately home-born Spaniards and Creoles lived\non terms of comparative fairness with the Indians and with the\nhalf-breed population. Till the general and successful revolt of her\nAmerican colonies, Spain maintained and employed the latter directly and\nsolely for what she conceived to be her own advantage. Her commercial\npolicy was one of most irrational and intolerable restriction and\nrepression; and till the end of Spanish rule on the American continent,\nthe whole political power was retained by the court at Madrid, and\nadministered in the colonies by an oligarchy of home-bred Spaniards.\n\nThe Portuguese colonization in America, in most respects resembling that\nof Spain, is remarkable for the development there given to an\ninstitution sadly prominent in the history of the European colonies. The\nnearness of Brazil to the coast of Africa made it easy for the\nPortuguese to supply the growing lack of native labour by the wholesale\nimportation of purchased or kidnapped Africans.\n\nOf the French it is admitted that in their colonial possessions they\ndisplayed an unusual faculty for conciliating the prejudices of native\nraces, and even for assimilating themselves to the latter. But neither\nthis nor the genius of successive governors and commanders succeeded in\npreserving for France her once extensive colonies in Canada or her great\ninfluence in India. In Algeria and West Africa the French government has\nnot merely found practical training schools for her own soldiers, but by\nopening a recruiting field amongst the native tribes it has added an\navailable contingent to the French army.\n\nThe Dutch took early a leading share in the carrying trade of the\nvarious European colonies. They have still extensive colonies in the\nEast Indian Archipelago, as well as possessions in the West Indies. The\nDanish dependencies in the Antilles are but trifling in extent or\nimportance.\n\nIt is the English-speaking race, however, that has shown the most\nremarkable energy and capacity for colonization. The English settlements\nin Virginia, New England, New York, New Jersey, Maryland, Pennsylvania,\nDelaware, South Carolina, North Carolina, and Georgia had, between the\nfirst decade of the 17th and the seventh decade of the 18th century,\ndeveloped into a new nation, the United States of America. It is\nunnecessary here to deal with the development of what have since been\nthe two great independent branches of the English-speaking people--those\nof the United States (q.v.) and of the British Empire (q.v.), as their\nhistory is given elsewhere. But the colonizing genius which, with the\nBritish Isles as centre, has taken up the \"white man's burden\" in all\nquarters of the globe, is universally recognized. In the problems of\ngovernment raised by the organization of the British dominions beyond\nthe seas the system of colonization has been developed to an extent\nunknown under any other national flag.\n\n\n\n\nCOLOPHON, an ancient city of Ionia, situated inland about 15 m. N. of\nEphesus. Its port was at Notium or New Colophon. The site, now called\n_Tracha_ (only recognized towards the end of the 19th century), lies\nnear Diermendere, 5 m. S. of Develikeui station on the Smyrna-Aidin\nrailway, and about 2 m. from the farms and hamlet of Malkajik. It is\nalmost entirely under cultivation, and there is little to be seen but\nremains of the walls and certain tumuli. Rich tombs, however, have been\nfound beside the old roads leading to it, and the site is usually\nregarded as a particularly promising one for excavation, since Colophon\nwas a very flourishing city in the great period of Ionia and had\ndeclined and been largely superseded by Notium before the Roman age. The\ncommon belief, however, that it had no existence after the time of\nLysimachus is not borne out by the remains on the site. Founded by\nAndracmon of Pylos, it was at the acme of its prosperity in the 8th and\n7th centuries B.C. up to the epoch of its sack by Gyges of Lydia in 665.\nIt claimed to have produced Homer, but its greatest genuine literary\nname was Mimnermus. It seems to have been ruled by a rich aristocracy\nwhich provided a famous troop of horse; and, from the Greek saying,\nusually supposed to refer to the decisive effect of the final charge of\nthis troop in battle, the word _colophon_ has come to be used for the\nfinal note appended to old printed books, containing date, &c. In 287\nLysimachus transferred a part of the population to his new city at\nEphesus. Though an Ionian colony Colophon did not share in the common\nfestival of the _Apaturia_ and seems to have been isolated for some\nreason among its neighbours, with one of whom, Ephesus, it was\nconstantly at enmity. The forts by which Ephesus protected itself\nagainst Colophonian invasion are still to be seen on the hills north of\nthe Caystrus.\n\nNotium or New Colophon contained the important shrine of the Clarian\nApollo, whose site has recently been identified with probability by Th.\nMakridy Bey during excavations conducted for the Ottoman museum.\n\n  See C. Schuchardt in _Athen. Mitteil._ (1886); W. M. Ramsay, _Hist.\n  Geog. of Asia Minor_ (addenda) (1890).     (D. G. H.)\n\n\n\n\nCOLOPHON, a final paragraph in some manuscripts and many early printed\nbooks (see BOOK), giving particulars as to authorship, date and place of\nproduction, &c. Before the invention of printing, a scribe when he had\nfinished copying a book occasionally added a final paragraph at the end\nof the text in which he recorded the fact, and (if he were so minded)\nexpressed his thankfulness to God, or asked for the prayers of readers.\nIn the famous Bodleian MS. 264 of the _Roman d'Alexandre_ there is an\nunusually full note of this kind recording the completion of the copy on\nthe 18th of December 1338 and ending--\n\n  \"Explicit iste liber, scriptor sit crimine liber,\n   Christus scriptorem custodiat ac det honorem.\"\n\nBoth in manuscripts and also in early printed books authors made use of\nsuch a final paragraph for expressing similar feelings. Thus the\nGuillermus who made a famous collection of sermons on the gospels for\nSundays and saints' days records its completion in 1437 and submits it\nto the correction of charitable readers, and Sir Thomas Malory notes\nthat his _Morte d'Arthur_ \"was ended the ix yere of the reygne of Kyng\nEdward the fourth,\" and bids his readers \"praye for me whyle I am on\nlyue that God sende me good delyuerance, and whan I am deed I praye you\nall praye for my soule.\" So again Jacobus Bergomensis records that his\n_Supplementum Chronicarum_ was finished \"anno salutis nostre 1483. 3 deg.\nKalendas Julii in ciuitate Bergomi: mihi vero a natiuitate quadragesimo\nnono,\" and in the subsequent editions which he revised brings both the\nyear and his own age up to date. Before printing was invented, however,\nsuch paragraphs were exceptional, and many of the early printers,\nnotably Gutenberg himself, were content to allow their books to go out\nwithout any mention of their own names. Fust and Schoeffer, on the other\nhand, printed at the end of their famous psalter of 1457 the following\nparagraph in red ink:--_Presens spalmorum (sic for psalmorum) codex\nvenustate capitalium decoratus Rubricationibusque sufficienter\ndistinctus, Adinuentione artificiosa imprimendi ac caracterizandi absque\ncalami vlla exaracione sic effigiatus, Et ad eusebiam dei industrie est\nconsummatus, Per Iohannem fust ciuem maguntinum, Et Petrum Schoffer de\nGernszheim Anno domini Millesimo. cccc. lvii In vigilia Assumpcionis_.\nSimilar paragraphs in praise of printing and of Mainz as the city where\nthe art was brought to perfection appear in most of the books issued by\nthe partners and after Fust's death by Schoeffer alone, and were widely\nimitated by other printers. In their Latin Bible of 1462 Fust and\nSchoeffer added a device of two shields at the end of the paragraph, and\nthis addition was also widely copied. Many of these final paragraphs\ngive information of great value for the history of printing; many also,\nespecially those to the early editions of the classics printed in Italy,\nare written in verse. As the practice grew up of devoting a separate\nleaf or page to the title of a book at its beginning, the importance of\nthese final paragraphs slowly diminished, and the information they gave\nwas gradually transferred to the title-page. Complete title-pages\nbearing the date and name of the publishers are found in most books\nprinted after 1520, and the final paragraph, if retained at all, was\ngradually reduced to a bare statement of the name of the printer. From\nthe use of the word in the sense of a \"finishing stroke,\" such a final\nparagraph as has been described is called by bibliographers a \"colophon\"\n(Gr. [Greek: kolophon]), but at what period this name for it was first\nused has not been ascertained. It is quite possibly not earlier than the\n18th century. (For origin see COLOPHON [city].)     (A. W. PO.)\n\n\n\n\nCOLORADO, a state of the American union, situated between 41 deg. and 37\ndeg. N. lat. and 102 deg. and 109 deg. W. long., bounded N. by Wyoming\nand Nebraska, E. by Nebraska and Kansas, S. by Oklahoma and New Mexico,\nand W. by Utah. Its area is 103,948 sq. m. (of which 290 are water\nsurface). It is the seventh largest state of the Union.\n\n_Physiography._--Colorado embraces in its area a great variety of\nplains, mountains and plateaus. It lies at the junction of the Great\nPlains--which in their upward slant to the westward attain an average\nelevation of about 4000 ft. along the east boundary of the state--with\nthe Rocky Mountains, to the west of which is a portion of the Colorado\nPlateau. These are the three physiographic provinces of the state (see\nalso UNITED STATES, section _Geology_, ad fin., for details of\nstructure). The last-named includes a number of lofty plateaus--the Roan\nor Book, Uncompahgre, &c., which form the eastern continuation of the\nhigh plateaus of Utah--and covers the western quarter of the state. Its\neastern third consists of rich, unbroken plains. On their west edge lies\nan abrupt, massive, and strangely uniform chain of mountains, known in\nthe neighbourhood of Colorado Springs as the Rampart Range, and in the\nextreme north as the Front Range, and often denominated as a whole by\nthe latter name. The upturning of the rocks of the Great Plains at the\nfoot of the Front Range develops an interesting type of topography, the\nharder layers weathering into grotesquely curious forms, as seen in the\nfamous Garden of the Gods at the foot of Pike's Peak. Behind this\nbarrier the whole country is elevated 2000 ft. or so above the level of\nthe plains region. In its lowest portions just behind the front ranges\nare the natural \"parks\"--great plateaus basined by superb enclosing\nranges; and to the west of these, and between them, and covering the\nremainder of the state east of the plateau region, is an entanglement of\nmountains, tier above tier, running from north to south, buttressed\nlaterally with splendid spurs, dominated by scores of magnificent peaks,\ncut by river valleys, and divided by mesas and plateaus. These various\nchains are known by a multitude of local names. Among the finest of the\nchains are the Rampart, Sangre de Cristo, San Juan, Sawatch (Saguache)\nand Elk ranges. The first, like the other ranges abutting from north to\nsouth upon the region of the prairie, rises abruptly from the plain and\nhas a fine, bold outline. It contains a number of fine summits dominated\nby Pike's Peak (14,108 ft.). Much more beautiful as a whole is the\nSangre de Cristo range. At its southern end are Blanca Peak (14,390) and\nOld Baldy (14,176, Hayden), both in Costilla county; to the northward\nare Rito Alto Peak (12,989, Wheeler), in Custer county, and many others\nof almost equal height and equal beauty. The mountains of the south-west\nare particularly abrupt and jagged. Sultan Mountain (13,366, Hayden), in\nSan Juan county, and Mt. Eolus (14,079), in La Plata county, dominate\nthe fine masses of the San Juan ranges; and Mt. Sneffels (14,158,\nHayden), Ouray county, and Uncompahgre Peak (14,289), Hinsdale county,\nthe San Miguel and Uncompahgre ranges, which are actually parts of the\nSan Juan. Most magnificent of all the mountains of Colorado, however,\nare the Sawatch and adjoining ranges in the centre of the state. The\nformer (the name is used a little loosely) consists of almost a solid\nmass of granite, has an average elevation of probably 13,000 ft.,\npresents a broad and massive outline, and has a mean breadth of 15 to 20\nm. Mt. Ouray (13,956 ft.), in Chaffee county, may be taken as the\nsouthern end, and in Eagle county, the splendid Mount of the Holy Cross\n(14,170)--so named from the figure of its snow-filled ravines--as the\nnorthern. Between them lie: in Chaffee county, Mt. Shavano (14,239,\nHayden), Mt. Princeton (14,196, Hayden), Mt. Yale (14,187, Hayden), Mt.\nHarvard (14,375, Hayden), and La Plata Peak (14,342); in Pitkin county,\nGrizzly Peak (13,956, Hayden); in Lake county, Elbert Peak (14,421), and\nMassive mountain (14,424), the highest peak in the state; on the\nboundary between Summit and Park counties, Mt. Lincoln (14,297, Hayden);\nand, in Summit county, Mt. Fletcher (14,265). The Elk range is\ngeologically interesting for the almost unexampled displacement of the\nstrata of which it is composed, and the apparent confusion which has\nthence arisen. Among the most remarkable of its separate summits, which\nrise superbly in a crescent about Aspen, are North Italian Peak\n(13,225), displaying the red, white and green of Italy's national\ncolours, White Rock Mountain (13,532), Mt. Owen (13,102), Teocalli\nMountain (13,220), Snow Mass (13,970, Hayden) and Maroon (14,003,\nHayden) mountains, Castle Peak (14,259), Capitol Mountain (13,997,\nHayden), Pyramid Peak (13,885, Hayden), Taylor Peak (13,419), and about\na dozen other summits above 12,000 ft. A few miles to the north and\nnorth-east of the Mount of the Holy Cross are Red Mountain (13,333,\nWheeler), in Eagle county, Torrey Peak (14,336, Hayden) and Gray's Peak\n(14,341, Hayden), in Summit county, Mt. Evans (14,330, Hayden), in Clear\nCreek county, and Rosalie Peak (13,575), in Park county; a little\nfarther north, in Gilpin, Grand and Clear Creek counties, James Peak\n(13,283, Hayden), and, in Boulder county, Long's Peak (14,271, Hayden).\nMany fine mountains are scattered in the lesser ranges of the state.\nAltogether there are at least 180 summits exceeding 12,000 ft. in\naltitude, more than 110 above 13,000 and about 40 above 14,000.\n\nCirques, valley troughs, numberless beautiful cascades, sharpened alpine\npeaks and ridges, glacial lakes, and valley moraines offer everywhere\nabundant evidence of glacial action, which has modified profoundly\npractically all the ranges. The Park Range east of Leadville, and the\nSawatch Range, are particularly fine examples. Much of the grandest\nscenery is due to glaciation.\n\nOne of the most remarkable orographical features of the state are the\ngreat mountain \"parks\"--North, Estes, Middle, South and San\nLuis--extending from the northern to the southern border of the state,\nand lying (with the exception of Middle Park) just east of the\ncontinental divide. These \"parks\" are great plateaus, not all of them\nlevel, lying below the barriers of surrounding mountain chains. North\nPark, the highest of all, is a lovely country of meadow and forest.\nMiddle Park is not level, but is traversed thickly by low ranges like\nthe Alleghanies; in the bordering mountain rim are several of the\ngrandest mountain peaks and some of the most magnificent scenery of the\nstate. Estes Park is small, only 20 m. long and never more than 2 m.\nbroad; it is in fact the valley of Thompson Creek. Its surface is one of\ncharming <DW72>s, and by many it is accounted among the loveliest of\nColorado valleys. Seven ranges lie between it and the plains. South Park\nis similarly quiet and charming in character. Much greater than any of\nthese is San Luis Park. The surface is nearly as flat as a lake, and it\nwas probably at one time the bed of an inland sea. In the centre there\nis a long narrow lake fed by many streams. It has no visible outlet, but\nis fresh. The San Luis Park, which runs into New Mexico, is traversed by\nthe Rio Grande del Norte and more than a dozen of its mountain\ntributaries. These parks are frequented by great quantities of large\ngame, and--especially the North and Middle--are famous hunting-grounds.\nThey are fertile, too, and as their combined area is something like\n13,000 sq. m. they are certain to be of great importance in Colorado's\nagricultural development.\n\nThe drainage system of the state is naturally very complicated. Eleven\ntopographical and climatic divisions are recognized by the United States\nWeather Bureau within its borders, including the several parks, the\ncontinental divide, and various river valleys. Of the rivers, the North\nPlatte has its sources in North Park, the Colorado (the Gunnison and\nGrand branches) in Middle Park, the Arkansas and South Platte in South\nPark--where their waters drain in opposite directions from Palmer's\nLake--the Rio Grande in San Luis Park. Three of these flow east and\nsouth-east to the Missouri, Mississippi and the Gulf; but the waters of\nthe Colorado system flow to the south-west into the Gulf of California.\nAmong the other streams, almost countless in number among the mountains,\nthe systems of the Dolores, White and Yampa, all in the west, are of\nprimary importance. The scenery on the head-waters of the White and\nBear, the upper tributaries of the Gunnison, and on many of the minor\nrivers of the south-west is wonderfully beautiful. The South Platte\nfalls 4830 ft. in the 139 m. above Denver; the Grand 3600 ft. in the 224\nm. between the mouth of the Gunnison and the Forks; the Gunnison 6477\nft. in 200 m. to its mouth (and save for 16 m. never with a gradient of\nless than 10 ft.); the Arkansas 7000 ft. in its 338 m. west of the\nKansas line. Of the smaller streams the Uncompahgre falls 2700 ft. in\n134 m., the Las Animas 7190 ft. in 113 m., the Los Pinos 4920 ft. in 75\nm., the Roaring Fork 5923 ft. in 64 m., the Mancos 5000 ft. in 62 m.,\nthe La Plata 3103 ft. in 43 m., the Eagle 4293 ft. in 62 m., the San\nJuan 3785 in 303, the Lake Fork of the Gunnison 6047 in 59. The canyons\nformed in the mountains by these streams are among the glories of\nColorado and of America. The grandest are the Toltec Gorge near the\nSouthern boundary line, traversed by the railway 1500 ft. above the\nbottom; the Red Gorge and Rouge Canyon of the Upper Grand, and a\nsplendid gorge 16 m. long below the mouth of the Eagle, with walls\n2000-2500 ft. in height; the Grand Canyon of the Arkansas (8 m.) above\nCanyon City, with granite walls towering 2600 ft. above the boiling\nriver at the Royal Gorge; and the superb Black Canyon (15 m.) of the\nGunnison and the Cimarron. But there are scores of others which, though\nless grand, are hardly less beautiful. The exquisite colour contrasts of\nthe Cheyenne canyons near Colorado Springs, Boulder Canyon near the city\nof the same name, Red Cliff and Eagle River Canyons near Red Cliff,\nClear Creek Canyon near Denver--with walls at places 1000 ft. in\nheight--the Granite Canyon (11 m.) of the South Platte west of\nFlorissant, and the fine gorge of the Rio de las Animas (1500 ft.),\nwould be considered wonderful in any state less rich in still more\nmarvellous scenery. One peculiar feature of the mountain landscapes are\nthe mines. In districts like that of <DW36> Creek their enormous ore\n\"dumps\" dot the mountain flanks like scores of vast ant-hills; and in\nEagle River canyon their mouths, like dormer windows into the granite\nmountain roof, may be seen 2000 ft. above the railway.\n\nMany parts of the railways among the mountains are remarkable for\naltitude, construction or scenery. More than a dozen mountain passes lie\nabove 10,000 ft. Argentine Pass (13,000 ft.), near Gray's Peak, is one\nof the highest wagon roads of the world; just east of Silverton is Rio\nGrande Pass, about 12,400 ft. above sea-level, and in the Elk Mountains\nbetween Gunnison and Pitkin counties is Pearl Pass (12,715 ft.). Many\npasses are traversed by the railways, especially the splendid scenic\nroute of the Denver and Rio Grande. Among the higher passes are Hoosier\nPass (10,309 ft.) in the Park Range, and Hayden Divide (10,780) and Veta\nPass (9390); both of these across the Sangre de Cristo range; the\ncrossing of the San Miguel chain at Lizard Head Pass (10,250) near Rico;\nof the Uncompahgre at Dallas Divide (8977) near Ouray; of the Elk and\nSawatch ranges at Fremont (11,320), Tennessee (10,229), and Breckenridge\n(11,470) passes, and the Busk Tunnel, all near Leadville; and Marshall\nPass (10,846) above Salida. Perhaps finer than these for their\nwide-horizoned outlooks and grand surroundings are the Alpine Tunnel\nunder the continental divide of the Lower Sawatch chain, the scenery of\nthe tortuous line along the southern boundary in the Conejos and San\nJuan mountains, which are crossed at Cumbres (10,003 ft.), and the\nmagnificent scenery about Ouray and on the Silverton railway over the\nshoulder of Red Mountain (attaining 11,235 ft.). Notable, too, is the\nroad in Clear Creek Canyon--where the railway track coils six times upon\nitself above Georgetown at an altitude of 10,000 ft.\n\n_Climate._--The climate of Colorado is exceptional for regularity and\nsalubrity. The mean annual temperature for the state is about 46 deg.\nThe mean yearly isothermals crossing the state are ordinarily 35 deg. to\n50 deg. or 55 deg. F. Their course, owing to the complex orography of\nthe state, is necessarily extremely irregular, and few climatic\ngeneralizations can be made. It can be said, however, that the\nsouth-east is the warmest portion of the state, lying as it does without\nthe mountains; that the north-central region is usually coldest; that\nthe normal yearly rainfall for the entire state is about 15.5 in., with\ngreat local variations (rarely above 27 in.). Winds are constant and\nrather high (5 to 10 m.), and for many persons are the most trying\nfeature of the climate. Very intense cold prevails of course in winter\nin the mountains, and intense heat (110 deg. F. or more in the shade) is\noften experienced in summer, temperatures above 90 deg. being very\ncommon. The locality of least annual thermometric range is Lake Moraine\n(10,268 ft. above the sea)--normally 91 deg. F.; at other localities the\nrange may be as great as 140 deg., and for the whole state of course\neven greater (155 deg. or slightly more). The lowest monthly mean in 16\nyears (1887-1903) was 17.30. Nevertheless, the climate of Colorado is\nnot to be judged severe, and that of the plains region is in many ways\nideal. In the lowlands the snow is always slight and it disappears\nalmost immediately, even in the very foothills of the mountains, as at\nDenver or Colorado Springs. However hot the summer day, its night is\nalways cool and dewless. Between July and October there is little rain,\nday after day bringing a bright and cloudless sky. Humidity is moderate\n(annual averages for Grand Junction, Pueblo, Denver and Cheyenne, Wyo.,\nfor 6 A.M. about 50 to 66; for 6 P.M. 33 to 50); it is supposed to be\nincreasing with the increasing settlement of the country. Sunshine is\nalmost continuous, and splendidly intense. The maximum number of \"rainy\"\ndays (with a rainfall of more than 0.01 in.) rarely approaches 100 at\nthe most unfortunate locality; for the whole state the average of\nperfectly \"clear\" days is normally above 50%, of \"partly cloudy\" above\n30, of \"cloudy\" under 20, of \"rainy\" still less. At Denver, through 11\nyears, the actual sunlight was 70% of the possible; many other points\nare even more favoured; very many enjoy on a third to a half of the days\nof the year above 90% of possible sunshine. All through the year the\natmosphere is so dry and light that meat can be preserved by the\nsimplest process of desiccation. \"An air more delicious to breathe,\"\nwrote Bayard Taylor, \"cannot anywhere be found; it is neither too\nsedative nor too exciting, but has that pure, sweet, flexible quality\nwhich seems to support all one's happiest and healthiest moods.\" For\nasthmatic and consumptive troubles its restorative influence is\nindisputable. Along with New Mexico and Arizona, Colorado has become\nmore and more a sanitarium for the other portions of the Union. Among\nthe secondary hygienic advantages are the numerous mineral wells.\n\n_Flora and Fauna._--The life zones of Colorado are simple in\narrangement. The boreal embraces the highest mountain altitudes; the\ntransition belts it on both sides of the continental divide; the upper\nSonoran takes in about the eastern half of the plains region east of the\nmountains, and is represented further by two small valley penetrations\nfrom Utah. Timber is confined almost wholly to the high mountain sides,\nthe mountain valleys and the parks being for the most part bare. Nowhere\nis the timber large or dense. The timber-line on the mountains is at\nabout 10,000 ft., and the snow line at about 11,000. It is supposed that\nthe forests were much richer before the settlement of the state, which\nwas followed by reckless consumption and waste, and the more terrible\nravages of fire. In 1872-1876 the wooded area was estimated at 32% of\nthe state's area. It is certainly much less now. The principal trees,\nafter the yellow and lodgepole pines, are the red-fir, so-called hemlock\nand cedar, the Engelmann spruce, the cottonwood and the aspen (_Populus\ntremuloides_). In 1899 Federal forest reserves had been created,\naggregating 4849 sq. m. in extent, and by 1910 this had been increased\nto 24,528 sq. m. The reserves cover altitudes of 7000 to 14,000 ft. The\nrainfall is ample for their needs, but no other reserves in the country\nshowed in 1900 such waste by fire and pillage. The minor flora of the\ncountry is exceedingly rich. In the plains the abundance of flowers,\nfrom spring to autumn, is amazing.\n\nLarge game is still very abundant west of the continental divide. The\ngreat parks are a favourite range and shelter. Deer and elk frequent\nespecially the mountains of the north-west, in Routt and Rio Blanco\ncounties, adjoining the reservations of the Uncompahgre (White River\nUte) and Uintah-Ute Indians--from whose depredations, owing to the\nnegligence of Federal officials, the game of the state has suffered\nenormous losses. The bison have been exterminated. Considerable bands of\nantelope live in the parks and even descend to the eastern plains, and\nthe mule-deer, the most common of large game, is abundant all through\nthe mountains of the west. Grizzly or silver-tip, brown and black bears\nare also abundant in the same region. Rarest of all is the magnificent\nmountain sheep. Game is protected zealously, if not successfully, by the\nstate, and it was officially estimated in 1898 that there were then\nprobably 7000 elk, as many mountain sheep, 25,000 antelope and 100,000\ndeer within its borders (by far the greatest part in Routt and Rio\nBlanco counties). Fish are not naturally very abundant, but the mountain\nbrooks are the finest home for trout, and these as well as bass,\ncat-fish and some other varieties have been used to stock the streams.\n\n_Soil._--The soils of the lowlands are prevailing sandy loams, with a\ncovering of rich mould. The acreage of improved lands in 1900 was\nreturned by the federal census as 2,273,968, three times as much being\nunimproved; the land improved constituted 3.4% of the state's area. The\nlands available for agriculture are the lowlands and the mountain parks\nand valleys.\n\nSpeaking generally, irrigation is essential to successful cultivation,\nbut wherever irrigation is practicable the soil proves richly\nproductive. Irrigation ditches having been exempted from taxation in\n1872, extensive systems of canals were soon developed, especially after\n1880. The Constitution of Colorado declares the waters of its streams\nthe property of the state, and a great body of irrigation law and\npractice has grown up about this provision. The riparian doctrine does\nnot obtain in Colorado. In no part of the semi-arid region of the\ncountry are the irrigation problems so diverse and difficult. In 1903\nthere were, according to the governor, 10 canals more than 50 m. in\nlength, 51 longer than 20 m., and hundreds of reservoirs. In 1899 there\nwere 7374 m. of main ditches. The average annual cost of water per acre\nwas then estimated at about 79 cents. The acres under ditch in 1902 were\ngreater (1,754,761) than in any other state; and the construction cost\nof the system was then $14,769,561 (an increase of 25.6% from 1899 to\n1902). There are irrigated lands in every county. Their area increased\n8.9% in 1899-1902, and 80.9% from 1890 to 1900; in the latter year they\nconstituted 70.9% of the improved farm-land of the state, as against\n48.8 in 1890. The land added to the irrigated area in the decade was in\n1890 largely worthless public domain; its value in 1900 was about\n$29,000,000. As a result of irrigation the Platte is often dry in\neastern Colorado in the summer, and the Arkansas shrinks so below Pueblo\nthat little water reaches Kansas. The water is almost wholly taken from\nthe rivers, but underflow is also utilized, especially in San Luis Park.\nThe South Platte is much the most important irrigating stream. Its\nvalley included 660,495 acres of irrigated land in 1902, no other valley\nhaving half so great an area. The diversion of the waters of the\nArkansas led to the bringing of a suit against Colorado by Kansas in the\nUnited States Supreme Court in 1902, on the ground that such diversion\nseriously and illegally lessened the waters of the Arkansas in Kansas.\nIn 1907 the Supreme Court of the United States declared that Colorado\nhad diverted waters of the Arkansas, but, since it had not been shown\nthat Kansas had suffered, the case was dismissed, without prejudice to\nKansas, should it be injured in future by diversion of water from the\nriver. The exhaustion, or alleged exhaustion, by irrigation in Colorado\nof the waters of the Rio Grande has raised international questions of\nmuch interest between Mexico and the United States, which were settled\nin 1907 by a convention pledging the United States to deliver 60,000\nacre-feet of water annually in the bed of the Rio Grande at the Acequia\nMadre, just above Juarez, in case of drought this supply being\ndiminished proportionately to the diminution in the United States. As a\npart of the plans of the national government for reclamation of land in\nthe arid states, imposing schemes have been formulated for such work in\nColorado, including a great reservoir on the Gunnison. One of the\ngreatest undertakings of the national reclamation service is the\nconstruction of 77 m. of canal and of a six-mile tunnel, beneath a\nmountain, between the canyon of the Gunnison and the valley of the\nUncompahgre, designed to make productive some 140,000 acres in the\nlatter valley.\n\nApart from mere watering, cultivation is in no way intensive. One of the\nfinest farming regions is the lowland valley of the Arkansas. It is a\nbroad, level plain, almost untimbered, given over to alfalfa, grains,\nvegetables and fruits. Sugar-beet culture has been found to be\nexceptionally remunerative in this valley as well as in those of the\nSouth Platte and Grand rivers. The growth of this interest has been\nsince 1899 a marked feature in the agricultural development of the\nstate; and in 1905, 1906 and 1907 the state's product of beets and of\nsugar was far greater than that of any other state; in 1907, 1,523,303\ntons of beets were worked--more than two-fifths of the total for the\nUnited States. There are various large sugar factories (in 1903, 9, and\nin 1907, 16), mainly in the north; also at Grand Junction and in the\nArkansas valley. The total value of all farm property increased between\n1880 and 1900 from $42,000,000 to $161,045,101 and 45.9% from 1890 to\n1900. In the latter year $49,954,311 of this was in live-stock\n(increase 1890-1900, 121.1%), the remaining value in land with\nimprovements and machinery. The total value of farm products in 1899 was\n$33,048,576; of this sum 97% was almost equally divided between crop\nproducts and animal products, the forests contributing the remainder. Of\nthe various elements in the value of all farm produce as shown by the\nfederal census of 1900, live-stock, hay and grains, and dairying\nrepresented 87.2%. The value of cereals ($4,700,271)--of which wheat and\noats represent four-fifths--is much exceeded by that of hay and forage\n($8,159,279 in 1899). Wheat culture increased greatly from 1890 to 1900.\nFlour made from Colorado wheat ranks very high in the market. As a\ncereal-producing state Colorado is, however, relatively unimportant; nor\nin value of product is its hay and forage crop notable, except that of\nalfalfa, which greatly surpasses that of any other state. In 1906 the\nstate produced 3,157,136 bushels of Indian corn, valued at $1,578,568;\n8,266,538 bushels of wheat, valued at $5,373,250; 5,962,394 bushels of\noats, valued at $2,683,077; 759,771 bushels of barley, valued at\n$410,276; 43,580 bushels of rye, valued at $24,405; and 1,596,542 tons\nof hay, valued at $15,167,149. The value of vegetable products, of\nfruits, and of dairy products was, relatively, equally small (only\n$7,346,415 in 1899). Natural fruits are rare and practically worthless.\nApples, peaches, plums, apricots, pears, cherries and melons have been\nintroduced. The best fruit sections are the Arkansas valley, and in the\nwestern and south-western parts of the state. Melons are to some extent\nexported, and peaches also; the musk-melons of the Arkansas valley\n(Rocky Ford Canteloupes) being in demand all over the United States. The\nfruit industry dates practically from 1890. The dairy industry is\nrapidly increasing. In the holdings of neat cattle (1,453,971) and sheep\n(2,045,577) it ranked in 1900 respectively seventeenth and tenth among\nthe states of the Union; in 1907, according to the _Yearbook_ of the\nDepartment of Agriculture, there were in the state 1,561,712 neat cattle\nand 1,677,561 sheep. Stock-raising has always been important. The parks\nand mountain valleys are largely given over to ranges. The native\ngrasses are especially adapted for fodder. The grama, buffalo and bunch\nvarieties cure on the stem, and furnish throughout the winter an\nexcellent ranging food. These native grasses, even the thin bunch\nvarieties of dry hills, are surprisingly nutritious, comparing very\nfavourably with cultivated grasses. Large areas temporarily devoted to\ncultivation with poor success, and later allowed to revert to ranges,\nhave become prosperous and even noted as stock country. This is true of\nthe sandhill region of eastern Colorado. The grass flora of the lowlands\nis not so rich in variety nor so abundant in quality as that of high\naltitudes. Before the plains were fenced large herds drifted to the\nsouth in the winter, but now sufficient hay and alfalfa are cut to feed\nthe cattle during the storms, which at longest are brief. An account of\nColorado agriculture would not be complete without mentioning the\ndepredations of the grasshopper, which are at times extraordinarily\ndestructive, as also of the \"Colorado Beetle\" (_Doryphora\ndecemlineata_), or common potato-bug, which has extended its fatal\nactivities eastward throughout the prairie states.\n\n_Minerals._--Colorado is pre-eminently a mineral region, and to this fact\nit owes its colonization. It possesses unlimited supplies, as yet not\ngreatly exploited, of fine building stones, some oil and asphalt, and\nrelated bituminous products, a few precious and semi-precious stones\n(especially tourmalines, beryls and aquamarines found near Canyon near\nthe Royal Gorge of the Arkansas river), rare opalized and jasperized wood\n(in the eastern part of the El Paso county), considerable wealth of lead\nand copper, enormous fields of bituminous coal, and enormous wealth of\nthe precious metals. In the exploitation of the last there have been\nthree periods: that before the discovery of the lead-carbonate silver\nores of Leadville in 1879, in which period gold-mining was predominant;\nthe succeeding years until 1894, in which silver-mining was predominant;\nand the period since 1894, in which gold has attained an overwhelming\nprimacy. The two metals are found in more than 50 counties, San Miguel,\nGilpin, Boulder, Clear Creek, Lake, El Paso and Teller being the leading\nproducers. The <DW36> Creek field in the last-named county is one of the\nmost wonderful mining districts, past or present, of America. Leadville,\nin Lake county, is another. The district about Silverton (product\n1870-1900 about $35,000,000, principally silver and lead, and mostly\nafter 1881) has also had a remarkable development; and Creede, in the\nyears of its brief prosperity, was a phenomenal silver-field. From 1858\nup to and including 1904 the state produced, according to the State\nBureau of Mines (whose statistics have since about 1890 been brought into\npractical agreement with those of the national government) a value of no\nless than $889,203,323 in gold, silver, lead, copper and zinc at market\nprices. (If the value of silver be taken at coinage value this total\nbecomes vastly greater.) The yield of gold was $353,913,695-$229,236,997\nfrom 1895 to 1904; of silver, $386,455,463-$115,698,366 from 1889 to\n1893; of lead, $120,742,674--its importance beginning in 1879; of copper,\n$17,879,446-$8,441,783 from 1898 to 1904; and of zinc, $10,212,045--all\nthis from 1902 to 1904. Silver-mining ceased to be highly remunerative\nbeginning with the closing of the India mints and repeal of the Sherman\nLaw in 1893; since 1900 the yield has shown an extraordinary decrease--in\n1905 it was $6,945,581, and in 1907 $7,411,652--and it is said that as a\nresult of the great fall in the market value of the metal the mines can\nnow be operated only under the most favourable conditions and by exercise\nof extreme economy. In Lake county, for example, very much of the\nargentiferous ore that is too low for remunerative extraction (limit 1903\nabout $12.00 per ton) is used for fluxes.[1] The copper output was of\nslight importance until 1889--$1,457,749 in 1905, and $1,544,918 in 1907;\nand that of zinc was nil until 1902, when discoveries made it possible to\nrework for this metal enormous dumps of waste material about the mines,\nand in 1906 the zinc output was valued at $5,304,884. Lead products\ndeclined with silver, but a large output of low ores has continued at\nLeadville, and in 1905 the product was valued at $5,111,570, and in 1906\nat $5,933,829. Up to 1895 the gold output was below ten million dollars\nyearly; from 1898 to 1904 it ran from 21.6 to 28.7 millions. In 1897 the\nproduct first exceeded that of California. In 1907 the value was\n$20,826,194. Silver values ran, in the years 1880-1902, from 11.3 to 23.1\nmillion dollars; and the quantities in the same years from 11.6 to 26.3\nmillion ounces. In 1907 it was 11,229,776 oz., valued at $7,411,652.\nRegarding again the total combined product of the above five metals, its\ngrowth is shown by these figures for its value in the successive periods\nindicated: 1858-1879, $77,380,140; 1879-1888, $220,815,709; 1889-1898,\n$322,878,362; 1899-1904, $268,229,112. From 1900 to 1903 Colorado\nproduced almost exactly a third of the total gold and silver (market\nvalue) product of the entire country.\n\nIn addition, iron ores (almost all brown hematite) occur abundantly, and\nall material for making steel of excellent quality. But very little iron\nis mined, in 1907 only 11,714 long tons, valued at $21,085. Of much more\nimportance are the manganiferous and the silver manganiferous ores,\nwhich are much the richest of the country. Their product trebled from\n1889 to 1903; and in 1907 the output of manganiferous ores amounted to\n99,711 tons, valued at $251,207. A small amount is used for\nspiegeleisen, and the rest as a flux.\n\nThe stratified rocks of the Great Plains, the Parks, and the Plateaus\ncontain enormous quantities of coal. The coal-bearing rocks are confined\nto the Upper Cretaceous, and almost wholly to the Laramie formation. The\nmain areas are on the two flanks of the Rockies, with two smaller fields\nin the Parks. The east group includes the fields of Canyon City (whose\nproduct is the ideal domestic coal of the western states), Raton and the\nSouth Platte; the Park group includes the Cones field and the Middle\nPark; the west group includes the Yampa, La Plata and Grand River\nfields--the last prospectively (not yet actually) the most valuable of\nall as to area and quality. About three-fifths of all the coal produced\nin the state comes from Las Animas and Huerfano counties. In 1901 about\na third and in 1907 nearly two-fifths of the state's output came from\nLas Animas county. The Colorado fields are superior to those of all the\nother Rocky Mountain states in area, and in quality of product. In 1907\nColorado ranked seventh among the coal-producing states of the Union,\nyielding 10,790,236 short tons (2.2% of the total for the United\nStates). The total includes every variety from typical lignite to\ntypical anthracite. The aggregate area of beds is estimated by the\nUnited States Geological Survey at 18,100 sq. m. (seventh in rank of the\nstates of the Union); and the accessible coal, on other authority, at\n33,897,800,000 tons. The industry began in 1864, in which year 500 tons\nwere produced. The product first exceeded one million tons in 1882, two\nin 1888, three in 1890, four in 1893, five in 1900. From 1897 to 1902\nthe yield almost doubled, averaging 5,267,783 tons (lignite,\nsemi-bituminous, bituminous, and a steady average production of 60,038\ntons of anthracite). About one-fifth of the total product is made into\ncoke, the output of which increased from 245,746 tons in 1890 to\n1,421,579 tons (including a slight amount from Utah) in 1907; in 1907\nthe coke manufactured in Colorado (and Utah) was valued at $4,747,436.\nColorado holds the same supremacy for coal and coke west of the\nMississippi that Pennsylvania holds for the country as a whole. The true\nbituminous coal produced, which in 1897 was only equal to that of the\nlignitic and semi-bituminous varieties (1.75 million tons), had come by\n1902 to constitute three-fourths (5.46 million tons) of the entire coal\noutput. Much of the bituminous coal, especially that of the Canyon City\nfield, is so hard and clean as to be little less desirable than\nanthracite; it is the favoured coal for domestic uses in all the\nsurrounding states.\n\nPetroleum occurs in Fremont and Boulder counties. There have been very\nfew flowing wells. The product increased from 76,295 barrels in 1887 to\nabove 800,000 in the early 'nineties; it fell thereafter, averaging\nabout 493,269 barrels from 1899 to 1903; in 1905 the yield was 376,238\nbarrels; and in 1907, 331,851 barrels. In 1905 the state ranked\neleventh, in 1907 twelfth, in production of petroleum. It is mostly\nrefined at Florence, the centre of the older field. The Boulder district\ndeveloped very rapidly after 1902; its product is a high-grade\nilluminant with paraffin base. Asphalt occurs in the high north rim of\nMiddle Park (c. 10,000 ft.). Tungsten is found in wolframite in Boulder\ncounty. In 1903 about 37,000 men were employed in the mines of Colorado.\nLabour troubles have been notable in state history since 1890.\n\nMineral springs have already been mentioned. They are numerous and occur\nin various parts of the state. The most important are at Buena Vista,\nOuray, Wagon Wheel Gap, Poncha or Poncho Springs (90 deg.-185 deg. F.),\nCanyon City, Manitou, Idaho Springs and Glenwood Springs (120 deg.-140\ndeg. F., highly mineralized). The last three places, all beautifully\nsituated--the first at the base of Pike's Peak, the second in the Clear\nCreek Canyon, and the third at the junction of the Roaring Fork with the\nGrand river--have an especially high repute. In 1904 it was competently\nestimated that the mineral yield and agricultural yield of the state\nwere almost equal--somewhat above $47,000,000 each.[2]\n\nIn 1900 only 4.6% of the population were engaged in manufactures. They\nare mainly dependent on the mining industry. There are many large\nsmelters and reduction plants in the state, most of them at Denver,\nLeadville, Durango and Pueblo; at the latter place there are also\nblast-furnaces, a steel plant and rolling mills. Use is made of the most\nimproved methods of treating the ore. The cyanide process, introduced\nabout 1890, is now one of the most important factors in the utilization\nof low-grade and refractory gold and silver ores. The improved dioxide\ncyanide process was adopted about 1895. The iron and steel\nproduct--mainly at Pueblo--is of great importance, though relatively\nsmall as compared with that of some other states. Nevertheless, the very\nhigh rank in coal and iron interests of the state among the states west\nof the Mississippi, the presence of excellent manganiferous ores, a\ncentral position for distribution, and much the best railway system of\nany mountain state, indicate that Colorado will almost certainly\neventually entirely or at least largely control the trans-Mississippi\nmarket in iron and steel. The Federal census of 1900 credited the\nmanufacturing establishments of the state with a capital of $62,825,472\nand a product of $102,830,137 (increase 1890-1900, 142.1%); of which\noutput the gold, silver, lead and copper smelted amounted to\n$44,625,305. Of the other products, iron and steel ($6,108,295),\nflouring and grist-mill products ($4,528,062), foundry and machine-shop\nproducts ($3,986,985), steam railway repair and construction work\n($3,141,602), printing and publishing, wholesale slaughtering and meat\npacking, malt liquors, lumber and timber, and coke were the most\nimportant. The production of beet sugar is relatively important, as more\nof it was produced in Colorado in 1905 than in any other state; in 1906\n334,386,000 lb (out of a grand total for the United States of\n967,224,000 lb) were manufactured here; the value of the product in 1905\nwas $7,198,982, being 29.2% of the value of all the beet sugar produced\nin the United States in that year.[3]\n\n_Railways._--On the 1st of January 1909 there were 5403.05 m. of railway\nin operation. The Denver Pacific, built from Cheyenne, Wyoming, reached\nDenver in June 1870, and the Kansas Pacific, from Kansas City, in August\nof the same year. Then followed the building of the Denver & Rio Grande\n(1871), to which the earlier development of the state is largely due.\nThe great Santa Fe (1873), Burlington (1882), Missouri Pacific (1887)\nand Rock Island (1888) systems reached Pueblo, Denver and Colorado\nSprings successively from the east. In 1888 the Colorado Midland started\nfrom Colorado Springs westward, up the Ute Pass, through the South Park\nto Leadville, and thence over the continental divide to Aspen and\nGlenwood Springs. The Colorado & Southern, a consolidation of roads\nconnecting Colorado with the south, has also become an important system.\n\n_Population._--The population of the state in 1870 was 39,864; in 1880,\n194,327[4]; in 1890, 413,249; in 1900, 539,700; and in 1910, 799,024. Of\nthe 1900 total, males constituted 54.7%, native born 83.1%. The 10,654\npersons of <DW52> race included 1437 Indians and 647 Chinese and\nJapanese, the rest being <DW64>s. Of 185,708 males twenty-one or more\nyears of age 7689 (4.1%) were illiterate (unable to write), including a\nfourth of the Asiatics, a sixth of the Indians, one-nineteenth of the\n<DW64>s, one in twenty-four of the foreign born, and one in 147.4 of the\nnative born. Of 165 incorporated cities, towns and villages, 27 had a\npopulation exceeding 2000, and 7 a population of above 5000. The latter\nwere Denver (133,859), Pueblo (28,137), Colorado Springs (21,085),\nLeadville (12,455), <DW36> Creek (10,147), Boulder (6150) and Trinidad\n(5345). Creede, county-seat of Mineral county, was a phenomenal silver\ncamp from its discovery in 1891 until 1893; in 1892 it numbered already\n7000 inhabitants, but the rapid depreciation of silver soon thereafter\ncaused most of its mines to be closed, and in 1910 the population was\nonly 741. Grand Junction (pop. in 1910, 7754) derives importance from\nits railway connexions, and from the distribution of the fruit and other\nproducts of the irrigated valley of the Grand river. Roman Catholics are\nin the majority among church adherents, and Methodists and Presbyterians\nmost numerous of the Protestant denominations. The South Ute Indian\nReservation in the south of the state is the home of the Moache, Capote\nand Wiminuche Utes, of Shoshonean stock.\n\n_Administration._--The first and only state constitution was adopted in\n1876. It requires a separate popular vote on any amendment--though as\nmany as six may be (since 1900) voted on at one election. Amendments\nhave been rather freely adopted. The General Assemblies are biennial,\nsessions limited to 90 days (45 before 1884); state and county elections\nare held at the same time (since 1902). A declared intention to become a\nUnited States citizen ceased in 1902 to be sufficient qualification for\nvoters, full citizenship (with residence qualifications) being made\nrequisite. An act of 1909 provides that election campaign expenses shall\nbe borne \"only by the state and by the candidates,\" and authorized\nappropriations for this purpose. Full woman suffrage was adopted in 1893\n(by a majority of about 6000 votes). Women have served in the\nlegislature and in many minor offices; they are not eligible as jurors.\nThe governor may veto any separate item in an appropriation bill. The\nstate treasurer and auditor may not hold office during two consecutive\nterms. Convicts are deprived of the privilege of citizenship only during\nimprisonment. County government is of the commissioner type. There is a\nState Voter's League similar to that of Illinois.\n\nIn 1907 the total bonded debt of the state was $393,500; the General\nAssembly in 1906 authorized the issue of $900,000 worth of bonds to fund\noutstanding military certificates of indebtedness incurred in\nsuppressing insurrections at <DW36> Creek and elsewhere in 1903-1904.\nThe question of issuing bonds for all outstanding warrants was decided\nto be voted on by the people in November 1908. Taxation has been very\nerratic. From 1877 to 1893 the total assessment rose steadily from\n$3,453,946 to $238,722,417; it then fell at least partly owing to the\ndepreciation in and uncertain values of mining property, and from 1894\nto 1900 fluctuated between 192.2 and 216.8 million dollars; in 1901 it\nwas raised to $465,874,288, and fluctuated in the years following; the\nestimated total assessment for 1907 was $365,000,000.\n\nOf charitable and reformatory institutions a soldiers' and sailors' home\n(1889) is maintained at Monte Vista, a school for the deaf and blind\n(1874) at Colorado Springs, an insane asylum (1879) at Pueblo, a home\nfor dependent and neglected children (1895) at Denver, an industrial\nschool for girls (1887) near Morrison, and for boys (1881) at Golden, a\nreformatory (1889) at Buena Vista, and a penitentiary (1868) at Canyon\nCity. Denver was one of the earliest cities in the country to institute\nspecial courts for juvenile offenders; a reform that is widening in\ninfluence and promise. The parole system is in force in the state\nreformatory; and in the industrial school at Golden (for youthful\noffenders) no locks, bars or cells are used, the theory being to treat\nthe inmates as \"students.\" The state has a parole law and an\nindeterminate-sentence law for convicts.\n\n[Illustration: Colorado map]\n\nThe public school system of Colorado dates from 1861, when a school law\nwas passed by the Territorial legislation; this law was superseded by\nthat of 1876, which with subsequent amendments is still in force. In\nexpenditure for the public schools per capita of total population from\n1890 to 1903 Colorado was one of a small group of leading states. In\n1906 there were 187,836 persons of school age (from 6 to 21) in the\nstate, and of these 144,007 were enrolled in the schools; the annual\ncost of education was $4.34 per pupil. In 1902-1903, 92.5% of persons\nfrom 5 to 18 years of age were enrolled in the schools. The institutions\nof the state are: the University of Colorado, at Boulder, opened 1877;\nthe School of Mines, at Golden (1873); the Agricultural College, at Fort\nCollins (1870); the Normal School (1891) at Greeley; and the\nabove-mentioned industrial schools. All are supported by special taxes\nand appropriations--the Agricultural College receiving also the usual\naid from the federal government. Experiment stations in connexion with\nthe college are maintained at different points. Colorado College (1874)\nat Colorado Springs, Christian but not denominational, and the\nUniversity of Denver, Methodist, are on independent foundations. The\nUnited States maintains an Indian School at Grand Junction.\n\n_History._--According as one regards the Louisiana purchase as including\nor not including Texas to the Rio Grande (in the territorial meaning of\nthe state of Texas of 1845), one may say that all of Colorado east of\nthe meridian of the head of the Rio Grande, or only that north of the\nArkansas and east of the meridian of its head, passed to the United\nStates in 1803. At all events the corner between the Rio Grande and the\nArkansas was Spanish from 1819 to 1845, when it became American\nterritory as a part of the state of Texas; and in 1850, by a boundary\narrangement between that state and the federal government, was\nincorporated in the public domain. The territory west of the divide was\nincluded in the Mexican cession of 1848. Within Colorado there are\npueblos and cave dwellings commemorative of the Indian period and\nculture of the south-west. Coronado may have entered Colorado in 1540;\nthere are also meagre records of indisputable Spanish explorations in\nthe south in the latter half of the 18th century (friars Escallante and\nDominguez in 1776). In 1806 Zebulon M. Pike, mapping the Arkansas and\nRed rivers of the Louisiana Territory for the government of the United\nStates, followed the Arkansas into Colorado, incidentally discovering\nthe famous peak that bears his name. In 1819 Major S. H. Long explored\nthe valleys of the South Platte and Arkansas, pronouncing them\nuninhabited and uncultivable (as he also did the valley of the Missouri,\nwhence the idea of the \"Great American Desert\"). His work also is\ncommemorated by a famous summit of the Rockies. There is nothing more of\nimportance in Colorado annals until 1858. From 1804 to 1854 the whole or\nparts of Colorado were included, nominally, under some half-dozen\nterritories carved successively out of the Trans-Mississippi country;\nbut not one of these had any practical significance for an uninhabited\nland. In 1828 (to 1832) a fortified trading post was established near La\nJunta in the Arkansas valley on the Santa Fe trail; in 1834-1836 several\nprivate forts were erected on the Platte; in 1841 the first overland\nemigrants to the Pacific coast crossed the state, and in 1846-1847 the\nMormons settled temporarily at the old Mexican town of Pueblo. John C.\nFremont had explored the region in 1842-1843 (and unofficially in later\nyears for railway routes), and gave juster reports of the country to the\nworld than his predecessors. Commerce was tributary in these years to\nthe (New) Mexican town of Taos.\n\nColorado was practically an unknown country when in 1858 gold was\ndiscovered in the plains, on the tributaries of the South Platte, near\nDenver. In 1859 various discoveries were made in the mountains. The\nhistory of Denver goes back to this time. Julesburg, in the extreme\nnorth-east corner, at the intersection of the Platte valley and the\noverland wagon route, became transiently important during the rush of\nsettlers that followed. Emigration from the East was stimulated by the\npanic and hard times following 1857. During 1860, 1861 and 1862 there\nwas a continuous stream of immigration. Denver (under its present name),\nBlack Hawk, Golden, Central City, Mount Vernon and Nevada City were all\nfounded in 1859; Breckenridge, Empire, Gold Hill, Georgetown and Mill\nCity date from 1860 and 1861. The political development of the next few\nyears was very complicated. \"Arapahoe County,\" including all Colorado,\nwas organized as a part of Kansas Territory in 1858; but a delegate was\nalso sent to Congress to work for the admission of an independent\nterritory (called \"Jefferson\"). At the same time, early in 1860, a\nmovement for statehood was inaugurated, a constitution being framed and\nsubmitted to the people, who rejected it, adopting later in the year a\nconstitution of territorial government. Accordingly the Territory of\nJefferson arose, assuming to rule over six degrees of latitude (37\ndeg.-43 deg.) and eight of longitude (102 deg.-110 deg.). Then there was\nthe Kansas territorial government also, and under this a full county\norganization was maintained. Finally, peoples' court, acting wholly\nwithout reference to Kansas, and with no more than suited them (some\ndistricts refusing taxes) to the local \"provisional\" legislature,\nsecured justice in the mining country. The provisional legislature of\nthe Territory of Jefferson maintained a wholly illegal but rather\ncreditable existence somewhat precariously and ineffectively until 1861.\nIts acts, owing to the indifference of the settlers, had slight\nimportance. Some, such as the first charter of Denver, were later\nre-enacted under the legal territorial government, organized by the\nUnited States in February 1861. Colorado City was the first capital, but\nwas soon replaced by Golden, which was the capital from 1862 until 1868,\nwhen Denver was made the seat of government (in 1881 permanently, by\nvote of the people). In 1862 some Texas forces were defeated by Colorado\nforces in an attempt to occupy the territory for the Confederacy. From\n1864 to 1870 there was trouble with the Cheyenne and Arapahoe Indians. A\nsanguinary attack on an Indian camp in Kiowa county in 1864 is known as\nthe Sand Creek Massacre. In 1867 the Republican party had prepared for\nthe admission of Colorado as a state, but the enabling act was vetoed by\nPresident Johnson, and statehood was not gained until 1876. Finally,\nunder a congressional enabling act of the 3rd of March 1875, a\nconstitution was framed by a convention at Denver (20th of December 1875\nto 14th of March 1876) and adopted by the people on the 1st of July\n1876. The admission of Colorado to the Union was thereupon proclaimed on\nthe 1st of August 1876.\n\nFrom this time on the history of the state was long largely that of her\ngreat mining camps. After 1890 industrial conditions were confused and\ntemporarily set greatly backward by strikes and lockouts in the mines,\nparticularly in 1894, 1896-1897 and 1903-1904, several times threatening\ncivil war and necessitating the establishment of martial law. Questions\nof railways, of franchises, union scales and the recognition of the\nunion in contracts, questions of sheep and cattle interests, politics,\ncivic, legal and industrial questions, all entered into the economic\ntroubles of these years. The Colorado \"labour wars\" were among the most\nimportant struggles between labour and capital, and afforded probably\nthe most sensational episodes in the story of all labour troubles in the\nUnited States in these years. A state board of arbitration was created\nin 1896, but its usefulness was impaired by an opinion of the state\nattorney-general (in 1901) that it could not enforce subpoenas, compel\ntestimony or enforce decisions. A law establishing an eight-hour day for\nunderground miners and smelter employees (1899) was unanimously voided\nby the state supreme court, but in 1902 the people amended the\nconstitution and ordered the general assembly to re-enact the law for\nlabourers in mines, smelters and dangerous employments. Following the\nrepeal of the Sherman Law and other acts and tendencies unfavourable to\nsilver coinage in 1893 and thereafter, the silver question became the\ndominant issue in politics, resulting in the success of the\nPopulist-Democratic fusion party in three successive elections, and\npermanently and greatly altering prior party organizations.\n\nThe governors of Colorado have been as follows:--\n\n_Territorial._\n\n    W. Gilpin     1861      E. M. McCook  1869\n    J. Evans      1862      S. H. Elbert  1873\n    A. Cummings   1865      E. M. McCook  1874\n    A. C. Hunt    1867      J. L. Routt   1875\n\n_State._\n\n    J. L. Routt          Republican      1876\n    F. W. Pitkin             \"           1879\n    J. B. Grant          Democrat        1883\n    B. H. Eaton          Republican      1885\n    A. Adams             Democrat        1887\n    J. A. Cooper         Republican      1890\n    J. L. Routt              \"           1891\n    D. H. Waite          Populist        1893\n    A. W. M'Intire       Republican      1895\n    A. Adams             Dem.-Populist   1897\n    C. S. Thomas               \"         1899\n    J. B. Orman                \"         1901\n    J. H. Peabody        Republican      1903\n    A. Adams             Democrat        1905[5]\n    Jesse F. M'Donald    Republican      1905[5]\n    Henry A. Buchtel           \"         1907\n    John H. Shafroth     Democrat        1909\n\n  AUTHORITIES.--For _topography and general description_: Hayden and\n  assistants, reports on _Colorado_, U.S. Department of the Interior,\n  Geological and Geographical Survey of the Territories (13 vols.,\n  1867-1878), various reports, especially annual report for 1874;\n  Captain J. C. Fremont, _Report of the Exploring Expedition to the\n  Rocky Mountains in 1842_, published 1845 as Congressional document\n  28th Congress, 2nd Session, House Executive Document No. 166, and\n  various other editions. Other early exploring reports are: _The\n  Expeditions of Zebulon Montgomery Pike ... Through Louisiana Territory\n  and in New Spain in the Years 1805-6-7_, edited by E. Coues (3 vols.,\n  New York, 1895); _Account of an Expedition from Pittsburgh to the\n  Rocky Mountains, 1819-20, under the Command of Major S. H. Long;\n  compiled ... by Edwin James_ (3 vols., London; 2 vols., Philadelphia,\n  1823); Captain H. Stansbury, _Exploration of the Valley of the Great\n  Salt Lake_ (2 vols., Philadelphia, 1852; also as Senate Executive\n  Document No. 3, 32nd Congress Special Session); Francis Parkman, _The\n  California and Oregon Trail_ (New York, 1849; revised ed., Boston,\n  1892),--a narrative of personal experience, as are the two following\n  books: Bayard Taylor, _Colorado; A Summer Trip_ (New York, 1867);\n  Samuel Bowles, _The Switzerland of America, A Summer Vacation in\n  Colorado_ (Springfield, Mass., 1869); F. Fossett, _Colorado; A\n  Historical, Descriptive and Statistical Work on the Rocky Mountain\n  Gold and Silver Region_ (Denver, 1878; New York, 1879, 2nd ed., 1880).\n\n  On _fauna and flora_: United States Biological Survey, _Bulletins_\n  (especially No. 10), &c.; the _Biennial Report_ of the State Game and\n  Fish Commissioner; United States Geological Survey, _10th Annual\n  Report_, pt. v., and 20th A.R., pt. 5, and various publications of the\n  United States Forestry Division for forest and forest reserves; Porter\n  and Coulter, _Synopsis of the Flora of Colorado_ (1879); and scattered\n  papers in scientific periodicals. On _climate_: United States\n  Department of Agriculture, _Colorado Climate and Crop Service_\n  (monthly). On _soil and agriculture_: _Annual Report_ of the State\n  Board of Agriculture (since 1878), of the State Agricultural College,\n  Agricultural Experiment Station (since 1887), and of the State Board\n  of Horticulture; _Biennial Report_ of the State Board of Land\n  Commissioners (since 1879); publications of the United States\n  Department of Agriculture, various bulletins on agrostology, water\n  supply and irrigation, &c. (See Department bibliographies); United\n  States Census, 1900 (States), _Bulletin_ 177, \"Agriculture in\n  Colorado\" (Special), _Bulletin_ 16, \"Irrigation in the United States\"\n  (1902), &c.; United States Geological Survey, various materials,\n  consult bibliographies in its Bulletins 100, 177, 215, 301, &c. On\n  _manufactures_: publications of United States Census, 1900, and the\n  special census of manufactures, 1905. On _mineral industries_: United\n  States Geological Survey, _Annual Report_, annual volume on \"Mineral\n  Resources\"; also the annual _Mineral Industry_ (Rothwell's New\n  York-London); Colorado State Bureau of Mines, _Biennial Report_,\n  Inspector of Coal Mines, _Biennial Report_ (since 1883-1884); and an\n  enormous quantity of information in the publications of the United\n  States Geological Survey. For labour troubles see below. On\n  _railways_, see annual _Statistics of Railways_ of the United States\n  Interstate Commerce Commission, and Poor's Manual (Annual, New York).\n  _Rivers_, see _Index to Reports of the Chief of Engineers_, United\n  States Army (3 vols., 1900, covering 1866-1900); publications United\n  States Geological Survey. On _population_: United States Census, 1900.\n  _Administration_: J. W. Mills' _Annotated Statutes of the State of\n  Colorado ..._ (2 vols., Denver, 1891; vol. iii. 1896); Helen L.\n  Sumner, _Equal Suffrage in Colorado_ (New York, 1909,); J. E. Snook,\n  _Colorado History and Government_ (Denver, 1904), is a reliable school\n  epitome.\n\n  On _history_: F. L. Paxson, \"A Preliminary Bibliography of Colorado\n  History,\" being vol. iii., No. 3, of _University of Colorado Studies_\n  (June 1906); H. H. Bancroft, _History of ... Nevada, Colorado and\n  Wyoming, 1540-1888_ (San Francisco, 1890); on _labour conditions and\n  troubles_ consult: _Reports_ of the State Bureau of Labour Statistics\n  (since 1892); _Annual Reports_ of the State Board of Arbitration\n  (since 1898); publications of United States Bureau of Labour\n  (bibliographies); also especially Senate Document 122, 58th Congress,\n  3rd Session, covering the years 1880-1904. See also <DW36> CREEK and\n  LEADVILLE.\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n  [1] The market value of silver varied in the years 1870-1885 from\n    $1.32 to $1.065 an ounce; 1886-1893, $0.995 to $0.782; 1894-1904,\n    $0.630 to $0.5722.\n\n  [2] The mineral yield for 1907, according to _The Mineral Resources\n    of the United States_, 1907, amounted to $71,105,128.\n\n  [3] The special census of manufactures of 1905 was concerned only\n    with the manufacturing establishments of the state conducted under\n    the so-called factory system. The capital invested in such\n    establishments was $107,663,500, and the product was valued at\n    $100,143,999. The corresponding figures for 1900 reduced to the same\n    standard for purposes of comparison were $58,172,865 and $89,067,879.\n    Thus during the five years the capital invested in factories\n    increased 85.1%, and the factory product 12.4%. The increase in\n    product would undoubtedly have been much greater but for the labour\n    disturbances (described later in the article), which occurred during\n    this interval. Of the total product in 1905 more than four-fifths\n    were represented by the smelting of lead, copper and zinc ores, the\n    manufacture of iron and steel, the production of coke, and the\n    refining of petroleum. The value of the flour and grist-mill product\n    was $5,783,421.\n\n  [4] Census figures before 1890 do not include Indians on\n    reservations.\n\n  [5] Adams was inaugurated on the 10th of January, having been elected\n    on the return of the vote, which had been notoriously corrupted in\n    Denver and elsewhere. The Republican legislature, after investigating\n    the election and upon receiving from Peabody a written promise that\n    he would resign in twenty-four hours, declared on the 16th of March\n    that Peabody was elected. His resignation on the 17th of March made\n    Lieutenant-Governor M'Donald governor of the state.\n\n\n\n\nCOLORADO RIVER, a stream in the south of the Argentine Republic. It has\nits sources on the eastern <DW72>s of the Andes in the lat. of the\nChilean volcano Tinguiririca (about 34 deg. 48' S.), and pursues a\ngeneral E.S.E. course to the Atlantic, where it discharges through\nseveral channels of a delta extending from lat. 39 deg. 30' to 39 deg.\n30' S. Its total length is about 620 m., of which about 200 m. from the\ncoast up to Pichemahuida is navigable for vessels of 7 ft. draft. It has\nbeen usually described as being formed by the confluence of the Grande\nand Barrancas, but as the latter is only a small stream compared with\nthe Grande it is better described as a tributary, and the Grande as a\npart of the main river under another name. After leaving the vicinity of\nthe Andes the Colorado flows through a barren, arid territory and\nreceives no tributary of note except the Curaco, which has its sources\nin the Pampa territory and is considered to be part of the ancient\noutlet of the now closed lacustrine basin of southern Mendoza. The\nbottom lands of the Colorado in its course across Patagonia are fertile\nand wooded, but their area is too limited to support more than a small,\nscattered population.\n\n\n\n\nCOLORADO RIVER, a stream in the south-west of the United States of\nAmerica, draining a part of the high and arid plateau between the Rocky\nmountains and the Sierra Nevada in California. The light rainfall\nscarcely suffices over much of the river's course to make good the loss\nby evaporation from the waters drained from mountain snows at its\nsource. Its headwaters are known as the Green river, which rises in\nnorth-west Wyoming and after a course of some 700 m. due south unites in\nsouth-east Utah with the Grand river, flowing down from Colorado, to\nform the main trunk of the Colorado proper. The Green cuts its way\nthrough the Uinta mountains of Wyoming; then flowing intermittently in\nthe open, it crosses successive uplifts in a series of deep gorges, and\nflows finally at the foot of canyon walls 1500 ft. high near its\njunction with the Grand.\n\nThe Colorado in its course below the junction has formed a region that\nis one of the most wonderful of the world, not only for its unique and\nmagnificent scenery, but also because it affords the most remarkable\nexample known of the work of differential weathering and erosion by wind\nand water and the exposure of geologic strata on an enormous scale.\nAbove the Paria the river flows through scenery comparatively tame until\nit reaches the plateau of the Marble Canyon, some 60 m. in length. The\nwalls here are at first only a few score of feet in height, but increase\nrapidly to almost 5000 ft. At its southern end is the Little Colorado.\nAbove this point eleven rivers with steep mountain gradients have joined\neither the Green or the Grand or their united system. The Little\nColorado has cut a trench 1800 ft. deep into the plateau in the last 27\nm. as it approaches the Colorado, and empties into it 2625 ft. above the\nsea. Here the Colorado turns abruptly west directly athwart the folds\nand fault line of the plateau, through the Grand Canyon (q.v.) of the\nColorado, which is 217 m. long and from 4 to 20 m. wide between the\nupper cliffs. The walls, 4000 to 6000 ft. high, drop in successive\nescarpments of 500 to 1600 ft., banded in splendid colours, toward the\ngloomy narrow gorge of the present river. Below the confluence of the\nVirgin river of Nevada the Colorado abruptly turns again, this time\nsouthward, and flows as the boundary between Arizona and California and\nin part between Arizona and Nevada, and then through Mexican territory,\nsome 450 m. farther to the Gulf of California. Below the Black Canyon\nthe river lessens in gradient, and in its lower course flows in a broad\nsedimentary valley--a distinct estuarine plain extending northward\nbeyond Yuma--and the channel through much of this region is bedded in a\n<DW18>-like embankment lying above the flood-plain over which the escaping\nwater spills in time of flood. This <DW18> cuts off the flow of the river\nto the remarkable low area in southern California known as the Salton\nSink, or Coahuila Valley, the descent to which from the river near Yuma\nis very much greater than the fall in the actual river-bed from Yuma to\nthe gulf. In the autumn of 1904, the diversion flow from the river into\na canal heading in Mexican territory a few miles below Yuma, and\nintended for irrigation of California south of the Sink, escaped\ncontrol, and the river, taking the canal as a new channel, recreated in\nCalifornia a great inland sea--to the bed of which it had frequently\nbeen turned formerly, for example, in 1884 and 1891--and for a time\npractically abandoned its former course through Mexican territory to the\nGulf of California. But it was effectively dammed in the early part of\n1907 and returned to its normal course, from which, however, there was\nstill much leakage to Salton Sea; in July 1907 the permanent dam was\ncompleted. From the Black Canyon to the sea the Colorado normally flows\nthrough a desert-like basin, to the west of which, in Mexico, is Laguna\nMaquata (or Salada), lying in the so-called Pattie Basin, which was\nformerly a part of the Gulf of California, and which is frequently\npartially flooded (like Coahuila Valley) by the delta waters of the\nColorado. Of the total length of the Colorado, about 2200 m., 500 m. or\nmore from the mouth are navigable by light steamers, but channel\nobstacles make all navigation difficult at low water, and impossible\nabout half the year above Mojave. The whole area drained by the river\nand its tributaries is about 225,000 sq. m.; and it has been estimated\nby Major J. W. Powell that in its drainage basin there are fully 200,000\nsq. m. that have been degraded on an average 6000 ft. It is still a\npowerful eroding stream in the canyon portion, and its course below the\ncanyons has a shifting bed much obstructed by bars built of sediment\ncarried from the upper course. The desert country toward the mouth is\nlargely a sandy or gravelly aggradation plain of the river. The regular\nfloods are in May and June. Others, due to rains, are rare. The rise of\nthe water at such times is extraordinarily rapid. Enormous drift is left\nin the canyons 30 or 40 ft. above the normal level. The valley near Yuma\nis many miles wide, frequently inundated, and remarkably fertile; it is\noften called the \"Nile of America\" from its resemblance in climate,\nfertility, overflows and crops. These alluvial plains are covered with a\ndense growth of mesquite, cottonwood, willow, arrowwood, quelite and\nwild hemp. Irrigation is essential to regular agriculture. There is a\nfine delta in the gulf. The Colorado is remarkable for exceedingly high\ntides at its mouth and for destructive bores.\n\nIn 1540, the second year that Spaniards entered Arizona, they discovered\nthe Colorado. Hernando de Alarcon co-operating with F. V. de Coronado,\nexplored with ships the Gulf of California and sailed up the lower\nriver; Melchior Diaz, marching along the shores of the gulf, likewise\nreached the river; and Captain Garcia Lopez de Cardenas, marching from\nZuni, reached the Grand Canyon, but could not descend its walls. In 1604\nJuan de Onate crossed Arizona from New Mexico and descended the Santa\nMaria, Bill Williams and Colorado to the gulf. The name Colorado was\nfirst applied to the present Colorado Chiquito, and probably about 1630\nto the Colorado of to-day. But up to 1869 great portions of the river\nwere still unknown. James White, a miner, in 1867, told a picturesque\nstory (not generally accepted as true) of making the passage of the\nGrand Canyon on the river. In 1869, and in later expeditions, the feat\nwas accomplished by Major J. W. Powell. There have been since then\nrepeated explorations and scientific studies.\n\n  See C. E. Dutton, \"Tertiary History of the Grand Canyon,\" _U.S.\n  Geological Survey, Monograph II_. (1882); J. W. Powell, _Exploration\n  of the Colorado River_ (Washington, 1875), and _Canyons of the\n  Colorado_ (Meadville, Pa. 1895); F. S. Dellenbaugh, _Romance of the\n  Colorado River_ (New York, 1902), and _Canyon Voyage_ (1908); G. W.\n  James, _Wonders of the Colorado Desert_ (2 vols., Boston, 1906).\n\n\n\n\nCOLORADO SPRINGS, a city and the county-seat of El Paso county,\nColorado, U.S.A., about 75 m. S. of Denver. Pop. (1890) 11,140; (1900)\n21,085, of whom 2300 were foreign-born; (1910) 29,078. The city is\nserved by the Atchison, Topeka & Santa Fe, the Denver & Rio Grande, the\nChicago, Rock Island & Pacific (of which the city is a terminus), the\nColorado & Southern, the Colorado Springs & <DW36> Creek District\n(controlled by the Colorado & Southern), and the Colorado Midland\nrailways, of which the first three are continental systems. Continuous\non the west with Colorado Springs is Colorado City (pop. in 1900, 2914),\none of the oldest settlements of Colorado, and the first capital (1861).\nColorado Springs is superbly situated where the Rocky Mountains rise\nfrom the great plains of the prairie states, surrounded on all sides by\nfoothills save in the south-east, where it is open to the prairie. To\nthe south of the mesa (tableland) on which it lies is the valley of\nFountain Creek. To the west is the grand background of the canyon-riven\nRampart range, with Pike's Peak (q.v.) dominating a half-dozen other\npeaks (among them Cameron Cone, Mt. Rosa, Cheyenne Mt.) 9000 to 12,000\nft. in height. Monument Creek traverses the city. The streets are of\ngenerous width (100-140 ft.), and are well shaded by trees. There are\nseveral fine parks. The city is the seat of a state asylum for the\ndeaf, dumb and blind, of a printers' home for union men, which was\nendowed in 1892 by Anthony J. Drexel and George W. Childs, and of\nColorado College (1874), one of the leading educational institutions of\nthe Rocky Mountain states, and the oldest institution for higher\neducation in the state. The college is coeducational and non-sectarian.\nIn 1908 it had a permanent endowment of about $425,000, a faculty of 46\nand 607 students; the library contained 40,000 bound volumes and as many\npamphlets. The departments of the institution are a college of arts;\nschools of engineering (1903), music, and (1906) forestry; and the\nCutler Academy, a preparatory school under the control of the college.\nIn 1905 Gen. W. J. Palmer (1836-1909) and W. A. Bell gave to the college\nManitou Park, a tract of forest land covering about 13,000 acres and\nsituated about 20 m. from Colorado Springs.\n\nBright sunshine and a pleasant climate (mean annual temperature about 48\ndeg. F., rainfall 14 in., falling almost wholly from April to September,\nrelative humidity 59), combined with beautiful scenery, have made the\ncity a favourite health resort and place of residence. Land deeds for\ncity property have always excluded saloons. The municipality owns and\noperates the water system, water being drawn from lakes near Pike's\nPeak. The scenery about the city is remarkable. Manitou (6100-6300 ft.)\na popular summer resort, lies about 6 m. (by rail) north-west of\nColorado Springs, in a glen at the opening of Ute Pass (so-named because\nit was formerly used by the Ute Indians), with the mountains rising from\nits edge. Its springs of soda and iron belong to the class of weak\ncompound carbonated soda waters. In the neighbourhood are the Cave of\nthe Winds, the Grand Caverns, charming glens, mountain lakes and\npicturesque canyons; and the Garden of the Gods (owned by the\ncity)--approached between two tremendous masses of red rock 330 ft.\nhigh, and strewn (about 500 acres) with great rocks and ridges of\nbrightly  sandstone, whose grotesque shapes and fantastic\narrangement have suggested a playground of superhuman beings. At the\nsouthern end of the Rampart range is Cheyenne Mt. (9407 ft.), on whose\n<DW72> was buried Helen Hunt Jackson (\"H.H.\"), who has left many pictures\nof this country in her stories. The two Cheyenne Canyons, with walls as\nhigh as 1000 ft. and beautiful falls, and the road over the mountain\nside toward <DW36> Creek, afford exquisite views. Monument Park (10 m.\nN.) is a tract of fantastically eroded sandstone rocks, similar to those\nin the Garden of the Gods.\n\nIn 1859 a winter mining party coming upon the sunny valley near the\npresent Manitou, near the old Fontaine-qui-Bouille, settled \"El Dorado.\"\nColorado City is practically on the same site. In 1870, as part of the\ntown development work of the Denver & Rio Grande railway, of which\nGeneral W. J. Palmer was the president, a land company founded Colorado\nSprings. In 1872 Manitou (first La Fontaine) was founded. Colorado\nSprings was laid out in 1871, was incorporated in 1872, and was first\nchartered as a city in 1878. A new charter (May 1909) provided for the\nrecall of elective officials. A road over the Ute Pass to South Park and\nLeadville was built, and at one time about 12,000 horses and mules were\nemployed in freighting to the Leadville camps. The Chicago, Rock Island\n& Pacific railway reached the city in 1888. The greatest part of the\n<DW36> Creek mining properties is owned in Colorado Springs, where the\nexchange is one of the greatest in the world.\n\n\n\n\nCOLOSSAE, once the great city of south-west Phrygia, was situated on\nrising ground (1150 ft.) on the left bank of the Lycus (_Churuk Su_), a\ntributary of the Maeander, at the upper end of a narrow gorge 2-1\/2 m.\nlong, where the river runs between cliffs from 50 to 60 ft. high. It\nstood on the great trade route from Sardis to Celaenae and Iconium, and\nwas a large, prosperous city (Herod, vii. 30; Xenophon, _Anab._ i. 2, S\n6), until it was ruined by the foundation of Laodicea in a more\nadvantageous position. The town was celebrated for its wool, which was\ndyed a purple colour called _colossinus_. Colossae was the seat of an\nearly Christian church, the result of St Paul's activity at Ephesus,\nthough perhaps actually founded by Epaphras. The church, to which St\nPaul wrote a letter, was mainly composed of mingled Greek and Phrygian\nelements deeply imbued with fantastic and fanatical mysticism. Colossae\nlasted until the 7th and 8th centuries, when it was gradually deserted\nunder pressure of the Arab invasions. Its place was taken by Khonae\n(_Khonas_)--a strong fortress on a rugged spur of Mt. Kadmus, 3 m. to\nthe south, which became a place of importance during the wars between\nthe Byzantines and Turks, and was the birthplace of the historian,\nNicetas Khoniates. The worship of angels alluded to by St Paul (Col. ii.\n18), and condemned in the 4th century by a council at Laodicea,\nreappears in the later worship of St Michael, in whose honour a\ncelebrated church, destroyed by the Seljuks in the 12th century, was\nbuilt on the right bank of the Lycus.\n\n  See Sir W. M. Ramsay, _Cities and Bishoprics of Phrygia_, vol. i.\n\n\n\n\nCOLOSSAL CAVERN, a cave in Kentucky, U.S.A., the main entrance of which\nis at the foot of a steep hill beyond Eden Valley, and 1-1\/2 m. from\nMammoth Cave. It is connected with what has long been known as the Bed\nQuilt Cave. Several entrances found by local explorers were rough and\ndifficult. They were closed when the property was bought in 1896 by the\nLouisville & Nashville railway and a new approach made as indicated on\nthe accompanying map. From the surface to the floor is 240 ft.; under\nChester Sandstone and in the St Louis Limestone. Fossil corals fix the\ngeological age of the rock. The temperature is uniformly 54 deg. Fahr.,\nand the atmosphere is optically and chemically pure. Lovely\nincrustations alternate with queer and grotesque figures. There are\nexquisite gypsum rosettes and intricately involved helictites.\n\n[Illustration: map of Colossal Cavern.]\n\nTremendous forces have been at work, suggesting earthquakes and\neruptions; but really all is due to the chemical and mechanical action\nof water. The so-called \"Ruins of Carthage\" fill a hall 400 ft. long by\n100 ft. wide and 30 ft. high, whose flat roof is a vast homogeneous\nlimestone block. Isolated detached blocks measure from 50 to 100 ft. in\nlength. Edgar Vaughan and W. L. Marshall, civil engineers, surveyed\nevery part of the cave. Vaughan's Dome is 40 ft. wide, 300 ft. long, and\n79 ft. high. Numerous other domes exist, and many deep pits. The\ngrandest place of all is the Colossal Dome, which used to be entered\nonly from the apex by windlass and a rope reaching 135 ft. to the floor.\nThis is now used only for illumination by raising and lowering a\nfire-basket. The present entrance is by a gateway buttressed by\nalabaster shafts, one of which, 75 ft. high, is named Henry Clay's\nMonument. The dome walls arise in a series of richly tinted rings, each\n8 or 10 ft. thick, and each fringed by stalactites. The symmetry is\nremarkable, and the reverberations are strangely musical. The Pearly\nPool, in a chamber near a pit 86 ft. deep, glistens with countless cave\npearls. The route beyond is between rows of stately shafts, and ends in\na copious chalybeate spring. Blind flies, spiders, beetles and crickets\nabound; and now and then a blind crawfish darts through the waters; but\nas compared with many caverns the fauna and flora are not abundant. It\nis conjectured, not without some reason, that there is a connexion, as\nyet undiscovered, between the Colossal and the Mammoth caves. It seems\ncertain that Eden Valley, which now lies between them, is a vast\n\"tumble-down\" of an immense cavern that formerly united them into one.\n     (H. C. H.)\n\n\n\n\nCOLOSSIANS, EPISTLE TO THE, the twelfth book of the New Testament, the\nauthorship of which is ascribed to the Apostle Paul. Colossae, like the\nother Phrygian cities of Laodicea and Hierapolis, had not been visited\nby Paul, but owed its belief in Jesus Christ to Epaphras, a Colossian,\nwho had been converted by Paul, perhaps in Ephesus, and had laboured not\nonly in his native city but also in the adjacent portions of the Lycus\nvalley,--a Christian in whom Paul reposed the greatest confidence as one\ncompetent to interpret the gospel of whose truth Paul was convinced (i.\n7; iv. 12, 13). This Epaphras, like the majority of the Colossians, was\na Gentile. It is probable, however, both from the letter itself and from\nthe fact that Colossae was a trade centre, that Jews were there with\ntheir synagogues (cf. also Josephus, _Ant._ xii. 149). And it is further\nprobable that some of the Gentiles, who afterwards became Christians,\nwere either Jewish proselytes or adherents who paid reverence to the God\nof the Jews. At all events, the letter indicates a sensitiveness on the\npart of the Christians not only to oriental mysticism and theosophy (cf.\nSir W. M. Ramsay, _Cities and Bishoprics of Phrygia_, and _Church in the\nRoman Empire_), but also to the Judaism of the Diaspora.\n\nOur first definite knowledge of the Colossian Church dates from the\npresence of Epaphras in Rome in A.D. 62-64 (or A.D. 56-58), when Paul\nwas a prisoner. He arrived with news, perhaps with a letter (J. R.\nHarris, _Expositor_, Dec. 1898, pp. 404 ff.), touching the state of\nreligion in Colossae. Paul learns, to his joy, of their faith, hope and\nlove; of the order and stability of their faith; and of their reception\nof Christ Jesus the Lord (i. 4, 8; ii. 5-7). He sees no sign of an\nattack upon him or his gospel. On the contrary, loyalty to him and\nsympathy with him in his sufferings are everywhere manifest (i. 9, 24;\nii. 2; iv. 8); and the gospel of Christ is advancing here as elsewhere\n(i. 6). At the same time he detects a lack of cheerfulness and a lack of\nspiritual understanding in the Church. The joy of the gospel, expressing\nitself in songs and thanksgivings, is damped (iii. 15, 16), and, above\nall, the message of Christ does not dwell richly enough in them. Though\nthe believers know the grace of God they are not filled with a knowledge\nof his will, so that their conduct is lacking in that strength and joy\nand perfection, that richness of the fulness of knowledge expected of\nthose who had been made full in Christ (i. 6, 9-11, 28; ii. 2, 7, 10).\nThe reason for this, Paul sees, is the influence of the claim made by\ncertain teachers in Colossae that the Christians, in order to attain\nunto and be assured of _full_ salvation, must supplement Paul's message\nwith their own fuller and more perfect wisdom, and must observe certain\nrites and practices (ii. 16, 21, 23) connected with the worship of\nangels (ii. 18, 23) and elementary spirits (ii. 8, 20).\n\nThe origin and the exact nature of this religious movement are alike\nuncertain. (1) If it represents a type of syncretism as definite as that\nknown to have existed in the developed gnostic systems of the 2nd\ncentury, it is inconceivable that Paul should have passed it by as\neasily as he did. (2) As there is no reference to celibacy, communism\nand the worship of the sun, it is improbable that the movement is\nidentical with that of the Essenes. (3) The phenomena might be explained\nsolely on the basis of Judaism (von Soden, Peake). Certainly the\nasceticism and ritualism might so be interpreted, for there was among\nthe Jews of the Dispersion an increasing tendency to asceticism, by way\nof protest against the excesses of the Gentiles. The reference in ii. 23\nto severity of the body may have to do with fasting preparatory to\nseeing visions (cf. _Apoc. Baruch_, xxi. 1, ix. 2, v. 7). Even the\nworship of angels, not only as mediators of revelation and visions, but\nalso as cosmical beings, is a well-known fact in late Judaism (_Apoc.\nBar._ lv. 3; _Ethiopic Enoch_, lx. 11, lxi. 10; Col. ii. 8, 20; Gal. iv.\n3). As for the word \"philosophy\" (ii. 8), it is not necessary to take it\nin the technical Greek sense when the usage of Philo and Josephus\npermits a looser meaning. Finally the references to circumcision,\n_paradosis_ (ii. 8) and _dogmata_ (ii. 20), directly suggest a Jewish\norigin. If we resort solely to Judaism for explanation, it must be a\nJudaism of the Diaspora type. (4) The difficulty with the last-mentioned\nposition is that it under-estimates the speculative tendencies of the\nerrorists and ignores the direct influence of oriental theosophy. It is\nquite true that Paul does not directly attack the speculative position,\nbut rather indicates the practical dangers inherent therein (the denial\nof the supremacy of Christ and of full salvation through Him); he does\nnot say that the errorists hold Christ to be a mere angel or an aeon, or\nthat words like _pleroma_ (borrowed perhaps from their own vocabulary)\ninvolve a rigorous dualism. Yet his characterization of the movement as\nan arbitrary religion (ii. 23), a philosophy which is empty deceit (ii.\n8), according to elemental spirits and not according to Christ, and a\nhigher knowledge due to a mind controlled by the flesh (ii. 18); his\nrepeated emphasis on Christ, as supreme over all things, over men and\nangels, agent in creation as well as in redemption, in whom dwelt bodily\nthe fulness of the Godhead; and his constant stress upon knowledge,--all\nthese combine to reveal a speculation real and dangerous, even if naive\nand regardless of consequences, and to suggest (with Julicher and\nMcGiffert) that in addition to Jewish influence there is also the direct\ninfluence of Oriental mysticism.\n\nTo meet the pressing need in Colossae, Paul writes a letter and entrusts\nit to Tychichus, who is on his way to Colossae with Onesimus, Philemon's\nslave (iv. 7, 9). (On the relation of this letter to Ephesians and to\nthe letter to be sent from Laodicea to Colossae, see EPHESIANS, EPISTLE\nTO THE.) His attitude is prophylactic, rather than polemic, for the\n\"philosophy\" has not as yet taken deep root. His purpose is to restore\nin the hearts of the readers the joy of the Spirit, by making them see\nthat Christ fulfils every need, and that through faith in Him and love\nfrom faith, the advance is made unimpeded unto the perfect man. He will\neliminate foreign accretions, that the gospel of Christ may stand forth\nin its native purity, and that Christ Himself may in all things have the\npre-eminence.\n\nThe letter begins with a thanksgiving to God for the spiritual growth of\nthe Colossians, and continues with a prayer for their fuller knowledge\nof the divine will, for a more perfect Christian life, and for a spirit\nof thanksgiving, seeing that it is God who guarantees their salvation in\nChrist (i. 1-14). It is Christ who is supreme, not angels, for He is the\nagent in creation; and it is solely on the basis of faith in Him, a\nfaith expressing itself in love, that redemption is appropriated, and\nnot on the basis of any further requirements such as ascetic practices\nand the worship of angels (i. 15-23). It is with a full message that\nPaul has been entrusted, the message of Christ, who alone can lead to\nall the riches of fulness of knowledge. And for this adequate knowledge\nthe readers should be thankful (i. 23--ii. 7). Again he urges, that\nsince redemption is in Christ alone, and that, too, full redemption and\non the basis of faith alone, the demand for asceticism and meaningless\nceremonies is folly, and moreover robs Christ, in whom dwells the divine\nfulness, of His rightful supremacy (ii. 8-23). And he exhorts them as\nmembers of the Body of Christ to manifest their faith in Christian love,\nparticularly in their domestic relations and in their contact with\nnon-Christians (iii. i-iv. 6). He closes by saying that Tychichus will\ngive them the news. Greetings from all to all (iv. 7-18).\n\nA letter like this, clear cut in its thought, teeming with ideas\nemanating from an unique religious experience, and admirably adjusted to\nknown situations, bears on the face of it the marks of genuineness even\nwithout recourse to the unusually excellent external attestation. It is\nnot strange that there is a growing consensus of opinion that Paul is\nthe author. With the critical renaissance of the early part of the 19th\ncentury, doubts were raised as to the genuineness of the letter (e.g. by\nE. T. Mayerhoff, 1838). Quite apart from the difficulties created by the\nTubingen theory, legitimate difficulties were found in the style of the\nletter, in the speculation of the errorists, and in the theology of the\nauthor. (1) As to style, it is replied that if there are peculiarities\nin _Colossians_, so also in the admittedly genuine letters, _Romans_,\n_Corinthians_, _Galatians_. Moreover, if _Philippians_ is Pauline, so\nalso the stylistically similar _Colossians_ (cf. von Soden). (2) As to\nthe speculation of the errorists, it is replied that it is explicable in\nthe lifetime of Paul, that some of the elements of it may have their\nsource in pre-Christian Jewish theories, and that recourse to the\ndeveloped gnosticism of the 2nd century is unnecessary. (3) As to the\nChristology of the author, it is replied that it does not go beyond what\nwe have already in Paul except in emphasis, which itself is occasioned\nby the circumstances. What is implicit in _Corinthians_ is explicit in\n_Colossians_. H. J. Holtzmann (1872) subjected both _Colossians_ and\n_Ephesians_ to a rigorous examination, and found in _Colossians_ at\nleast a nucleus of Pauline material. H. von Soden (1885), with\nwell-considered principles of criticism, made a similar examination and\nfound a much larger nucleus, and later still, (1893), in his commentary,\nreduced the non-Pauline material to a negligible minimum. Harnack,\nJulicher and McGiffert, however, agree with Lightfoot, Weiss, Zahn (and\nearly tradition) in holding that the letter is wholly Pauline--a\nposition which is proving more and more acceptable to contemporary\nscholarship.\n\n  AUTHORITIES.--In addition to the literature already mentioned, see the\n  articles of Sanday on \"Colossians\" and Robertson on \"Ephesians\" in\n  Smith's _Bible Dictionary_ (2nd ed., 1893), and the article of A.\n  Julicher on \"Colossians and Ephesians\" in the _Encyclopaedia Biblica_\n  (1899); the Introductions of H. J. Holtzmann (1892), B. Weiss (1897),\n  Th. Zahn (1900) and Julicher (1906); the histories of the apostolic\n  age by C. von Weizsacker (1892), A. C. M'Giffert (1897) and O.\n  Pfleiderer (_Urchristentum_, 1902); and the commentaries of J. B.\n  Lightfoot (1875), H. von Soden (1893) T. K. Abbott (1897), E. Haupt\n  (1902), Peake (1903) and P. Ewald (1905).     (J. E. F.)\n\n\n\n\nCOLOSSUS, in antiquity a term applied generally to statues of great size\n(hence the adjective \"colossal\"), and in particular to the bronze statue\nof the sun-god Helios in Rhodes, one of the wonders of the world, made\nfrom the spoils left by Demetrius Poliorcetes when he raised the siege\nof the city. The sculptor was Chares, a native of Lindus, and of the\nschool of Lysippus, under whose influence the art of sculpture was led\nto the production of colossal figures by preference. The work occupied\nhim twelve years, it is said, and the finished statue stood 70 cubits\nhigh. It stood near the harbour ([Greek: epi limeni]), but at what point\nis not certain. When, and from what grounds, the belief arose that it\nhad stood across the entrance to the harbour, with a beacon light in its\nhand and ships passing between its legs, is not known, but the belief\nwas current as early as the 16th century. The statue was thrown down by\nan earthquake about the year 224 B.C.; then, after lying broken for\nnearly 1000 years, the pieces were bought by a Jew from the Saracens,\nand probably reconverted into instruments of war.\n\nOther Greek colossi were the Apollo of Calamis; the Zeus and Heracles of\nLysippus; the Zeus at Olympia, the Athena in the Parthenon, and the\nAthena Promachos on the Acropolis--all the work of Pheidias.\n\nThe best-known Roman colossi are: a statue of Jupiter on the Capitol; a\nbronze statue of Apollo in the Palatine library; and the colossus of\nNero in the vestibule of his Golden House, afterwards removed by Hadrian\nto the north of the Colosseum, where the basement upon which it stood is\nstill visible (Pliny, _Nat. Hist._ xxxiv. 18).\n\n\n\n\nCOLOUR (Lat. _color_, connected with _celare_, to hide, the root\nmeaning, therefore, being that of a covering). The visual apparatus of\nthe eye enables us to distinguish not only differences of form, size and\nbrilliancy in the objects looked upon, but also differences in the\ncharacter of the light received from them. These latter differences,\nfamiliar to us as differences in _colour_, have their physical origin in\nthe variations in wave-length (or frequency) which may exist in light\nwhich is capable of exciting the sensation of vision. From the physical\npoint of view, light of a _pure colour_, or homogeneous light, means\nlight whose undulations are mathematically of a simple character and\nwhich cannot be resolved by a prism into component parts. All the\nvisible pure colours, as thus defined, are to be found in the spectrum,\nand there is an infinite number of them, corresponding to all the\npossible variations of wave-length within the limits of the visible\nspectrum (see SPECTROSCOPY). On this view, there is a strict analogy\nbetween variations of _colour_ in light and variations of _pitch_ in\nsound, but the visible spectrum contains a range of frequency extending\nover about one octave only, whereas the range of audibility embraces\nabout eleven octaves.\n\nOf all the known colours it might naturally be thought that white is the\nsimplest and purest, and, till Sir Isaac Newton's time, this was the\nprevailing opinion. Newton, however, showed that white light could be\ndecomposed by a prism into the spectral colours red, orange, yellow,\ngreen, blue, indigo and violet; the colours appearing in this order and\npassing gradually into each other without abrupt transitions. White is\ntherefore not a simple colour, but is merely the colour of sunlight, and\nprobably owes its apparently homogeneous character to the fact that it\nis the average colour of the light which fills the eye when at rest. The\ncolours of the various objects which we see around us are not due (with\nthe exception of self-luminous and fluorescent bodies) to any power\npossessed by these objects of creating the colours which they exhibit,\nbut merely to the exercise of a selective action on the light of the\nsun, some of the constituent rays of the white light with which they are\nilluminated being absorbed, while the rest are reflected or scattered in\nall directions, or, in the case of transparent bodies, transmitted.\nWhite light is thus the basis of all other colours, which are derived\nfrom it by the suppression of some one or more of its parts. A red\nflower, for instance, absorbs the blue and green rays and most of the\nyellow, while the red rays and usually some yellow are scattered. If a\nred poppy is illuminated successively by red, yellow, green and blue\nlight it will appear a brilliant red in the red light, yellow in the\nyellow light, but less brilliant if the red colour is pure; and black in\nthe other colours, the blackness being due to the almost complete\nabsorption of the corresponding colour.\n\nBodies may be classified as regards colour according to the nature of\nthe action they exert on white light. In the case of ordinary opaque\nbodies a certain proportion of the incident light is irregularly\nreflected or scattered from their surfaces. A white object is one which\nreflects nearly all the light of all colours; a black object absorbs\nnearly all. A body which reflects only a portion of the light, but which\nexhibits no predominance in any particular hue, is called _grey_. A\nwhite surface looks grey beside a similar surface more brilliantly\nilluminated.\n\nThe next class is that of most transparent bodies, which owe their\ncolour to the light which is transmitted, either directly through, or\nreflected back again at the farther surface. A body which transmits all\nthe visible rays equally well is said to be colourless; pure water, for\nexample, is nearly quite colourless, though in large masses it appears\nbluish-green. A translucent substance is one which partially transmits\nlight. Translucency is due to the light being scattered by minute\nembedded particles or minute irregularities of structure. Some fibrous\nspecimens of tremolite and gypsum are translucent in the direction of\nthe fibres, and practically opaque in a transverse direction. \ntransparent objects vary in shade and hue according to their size; thus,\na conical glass filled with a red liquid commonly appears yellow at the\nbottom, varying through orange up to red at the upper part. A \npowder is usually of a much lighter tint than the substance in bulk, as\nthe light is reflected back after transmission through only a few thin\nlayers. For the same reason the powders of transparent substances are\nopaque.\n\nPolished bodies, whether opaque or transparent, when illuminated with\nwhite light and viewed at the proper angle, reflect the incident light\nregularly and appear white, without showing much of their distinctive\ncolours.\n\nSome bodies reflect light of one colour and transmit that of another;\nsuch bodies nearly always possess the properties of _selective_ or\n_metallic reflection_ and _anomalous dispersion_. Most of the coal-tar\ndyes belong to this category. Solid eosin, for example, reflects a\nyellowish-green and transmits a red light. Gold appears yellow under\nordinary circumstances, but if the light is reflected many times from\nthe surface it appears a ruby colour. On the other hand, a powerful beam\nof light transmitted through a thin gold-leaf appears green.\n\nSome solutions exhibit the curious phenomenon of _dichromatism_ (from\n[Greek: di-], double, and [Greek: chroma], colour), that is, they appear\nof one colour when viewed in strata of moderate thickness, but of a\ndifferent colour in greater thicknesses (see Absorption of Light).\n\nThe blue colour of the sky (q.v.) has been explained by Lord Rayleigh as\ndue to the scattering of light by small suspended particles and air\nmolecules, which is most effective in the case of the shorter waves\n(blue). J. Tyndall produced similar effects in the laboratory. The green\ncolour of sea-water near the shore is also due to a scattering of light.\n\nThe colours of bodies which are gradually heated to white incandescence\noccur in the order--red, orange, yellow, white. This is because the\nlonger waves of red light are first emitted, then the yellow as well, so\nthat orange results, then so much green that the total effect is yellow,\nand lastly all the colours, compounding to produce white. Fluorescent\nbodies have the power of converting light of one colour into that of\nanother (see FLUORESCENCE).\n\nBesides the foregoing kinds of colorization, a body may exhibit, under\ncertain circumstances, a colouring due to some special physical\nconditions rather than to the specific properties of the material; such\nas the colour of a white object when illuminated by light of some\nparticular colour; the colours seen in a film of oil on water or in\nmother-of-pearl, or soap-bubbles, due to interference (q.v.); the\ncolours seen through the eyelashes or through a thin handkerchief held\nup to the light, due to diffraction (q.v.); and the colours caused by\nordinary refraction, as in the rainbow, double refraction and\npolarization (qq.v.).\n\n_Composition of Colours._--It has been already pointed out that white\nlight is a combination of all the colours in the spectrum. This was\nshown by Newton, who recombined the spectral colours and produced white.\nNewton also remarks that if a froth be made on the surface of water\nthickened a little with soap, and examined closely, it will be seen to\nbe  with all the colours of the spectrum, but at a little\ndistance it looks white owing to the combined effect on the eye of all\nthe colours.\n\nThe question of the composition of colours is largely a physiological\none, since it is possible, by mixing colours, say red and yellow, to\nproduce a new colour, orange, which appears identical with the pure\norange of the spectrum, but is physically quite different, since it can\nbe resolved by a prism into red and yellow again. There is no doubt that\nthe sensation of colour-vision is threefold, in the sense that any\ncolour can be produced by the combination, in proper proportions, of\nthree standard colours. The question then arises, what are the three\nprimary colours? Sir David Brewster considered that they were red,\nyellow and blue; and this view has been commonly held by painters and\nothers, since all the known brilliant hues can be derived from the\nadmixture of red, yellow and blue pigments. For instance, vermilion and\nchrome yellow will give an orange, chrome yellow and ultramarine a\ngreen, and vermilion and ultramarine a purple mixture. But if we\nsuperpose the pure spectral colours on a screen, the resulting colours\nare quite different. This is especially the case with yellow and blue,\nwhich on the screen combine to produce white, generally with a pink\ntint, but cannot be made to give green. The reason of this difference in\nthe two results is that in the former case we do not get a true\ncombination of the colours at all. When the mixed pigments are\nilluminated by white light, the yellow particles absorb the red and blue\nrays, but reflect the yellow along with a good deal of the neighbouring\ngreen and orange. The blue particles, on the other hand, absorb the red,\norange and yellow, but reflect the blue and a good deal of green and\nviolet. As much of the light is affected by several particles, most of\nthe rays are absorbed except green, which is reflected by both pigments.\nThus, the colour of the mixture is not a mixture of the colours yellow\nand blue, but the remainder of white light after the yellow and blue\npigments have absorbed all they can. The effect can also be seen in\n solutions. If two equal beams of white light are transmitted\nrespectively through a yellow solution of potassium bichromate and a\nblue solution of copper sulphate in proper thicknesses, they can be\ncompounded on a screen to an approximately white colour; but a single\nbeam transmitted through both solutions appears green. Blue and yellow\npigments would produce the effect of white only if very sparsely\ndistributed. This fact is made use of in laundries, where cobalt blue is\nused to correct the yellow colour of linen after washing.\n\nThomas Young suggested red, green and violet as the primary colours, but\nthe subsequent experiments of J. Clerk Maxwell appear to show that they\nshould be red, green and blue. Sir William Abney, however, assigns\nsomewhat different places in the spectrum to the primary colours, and,\nlike Young, considers that they should be red, green and violet. All\nother hues can be obtained by combining the three primaries in proper\nproportions. Yellow is derived from red and green. This can be done by\nsuperposition on a screen or by making a solution which will transmit\nonly red and green rays. For this purpose Lord Rayleigh recommends a\nmixture of solutions of blue litmus and yellow potassium chromate. The\nlitmus stops the yellow and orange light, while the potassium chromate\nstops the blue and violet. Thus only red and green are transmitted, and\nthe result is a full compound yellow which resembles the simple yellow\nof the spectrum in appearance, but is resolved into red and green by a\nprism. The brightest yellow pigments are those which give both the pure\nand compound yellow. Since red and green produce yellow, and yellow and\nblue produce white, it follows that red, green and blue can be\ncompounded into white. H. von Helmholtz has shown that the only pair of\nsimple spectral colours capable of compounding to white are a\ngreenish-yellow and blue.\n\n[Illustration: FIG. 1.]\n\nJust as musical sounds differ in pitch, loudness and quality, so may\ncolours differ in three respects, which Maxwell calls _hue_, _shade_ and\n_tint_. All hues can be produced by combining every pair of primaries in\nevery proportion. The addition of white alters the tint without\naffecting the hue. If the colour be darkened by adding black or by\ndiminishing the illumination, a variation in shade is produced. Thus the\nhue red includes every variation in tint from red to white, and every\nvariation in shade from red to black, and similarly for other hues. We\ncan represent every hue and tint on a diagram in a manner proposed by\nYoung, following a very similar suggestion of Newton's. Let RGB (fig. 1)\nbe an equilateral triangle, and let the angular points be  red,\ngreen and blue of such intensities as to produce white if equally\ncombined; and let the colour of every point of the triangle be\ndetermined by combining such proportions of the three primaries, that\nthree weights in the same proportion would have their centre of gravity\nat the point. Then the centre of the triangle will be a neutral tint,\nwhite or grey; and the middle points of the sides Y, S, P will be\nyellow, greenish-blue and purple. The hue varies all round the\nperimeter. The tint varies along any straight line through W. To vary\nthe shade, the whole triangle must be uniformly darkened.\n\nThe simplest way of compounding colours is by means of Maxwell's colour\ntop, which is a broad spinning-top over the spindle of which \ndisks can be slipped (fig. 2). The disks are slit radially so that they\ncan be slipped partially over each other and the surfaces exposed in any\ndesired ratio. Three disks are used together, and a match is obtained\nbetween these and a pair of smaller ones mounted on the same spindle. If\nany five colours are taken, two of which may be black and white, a match\ncan be got between them by suitable adjustment. This shows that a\nrelation exists between any four colours (the black being only needed to\nobtain the proper intensity) and that consequently the number of\nindependent colours is three. A still better instrument for combining\ncolours is Maxwell's colour box, in which the colours of the spectrum\nare combined by means of prisms. Sir W. Abney has also invented an\napparatus for the same purpose, which is much the same in principle as\nMaxwell's colour box. Several methods of colour photography depend on\nthe fact that all varieties of colour can be compounded from red, green\nand blue in proper proportions.\n\n[Illustration: FIG. 2.]\n\n[Illustration: (After Muller-Pouillet's _Lehrbuch der Physik_, 1897.)\nFIG. 3.]\n\nAny two colours which together give white are called _complementary_\ncolours. Greenish-yellow and blue are a pair of complementaries, as\nalready mentioned. Any number of pairs may be obtained by a simple\ndevice due to Helmholtz and represented in fig. 3. A beam of white\nlight, decomposed by the prism P, is recompounded into white light by\nthe lens l and focussed on a screen at f. If the thin prism p is\ninserted near the lens, any set of colours may be deflected to another\npoint n, thus producing two  and complementary images of the\nsource of light.\n\n_Nature of White Light._--The question as to whether white light\nactually consists of trains of waves of regular frequency has been\ndiscussed in recent years by A. Schuster, Lord Rayleigh and others, and\nit has been shown that even if it consisted of a succession of somewhat\nirregular impulses, it would still be resolved, by the dispersive\nproperty of a prism or grating, into trains of regular frequency. We may\nstill, however, speak of white light as compounded of the rays of the\nspectrum, provided we mean only that the two systems are mathematically\nequivalent, and not that the homogeneous trains exist as such in the\noriginal light.\n\n  See also Newton's _Opticks_, bk. i. pt. ii.; Maxwell's _Scientific\n  Papers_; Helmholtz's papers in _Poggendorf's Annalen_; Sir G. G.\n  Stokes, _Burnett Lectures for 1884-5-6_; Abney's _Colour Vision_\n  (1895).     (J. R. C.)\n\n\n\n\nCOLOURS, MILITARY, the flags carried by infantry regiments and\nbattalions, sometimes also by troops of other arms. Cavalry regiments\nand other units have as a rule standards and guidons (see FLAG). Colours\nare generally embroidered with mottoes, symbols, and above all with the\nnames of battles.\n\nFrom the earliest time at which men fought in organized bodies of\ntroops, the latter have possessed some sort of insignia visible over all\nthe field of battle, and serving as a rallying-point for the men of the\ncorps and an indication of position for the higher leaders and the men\nof other formed bodies. In the Roman army the eagle, the _vexillum_, &c.\nhad all the moral and sentimental importance of the colours of to-day.\nDuring the dark and the middle ages, however, the basis of military\nforce being the individual knight or lord, the banner, or other flag\nbearing his arms, replaced the regimental colour which had signified the\ncorporate body and claimed the devotion of each individual soldier in\nthe ranks, though the original meaning of the colour as a corps, not a\npersonal distinction, was sometimes maintained by corporate bodies (such\nas trade-gilds) which took the field as such. An example is the famous\n_carroccio_ or standard on wheels, which was frequently brought into the\nfield of battle by the citizen militia of the Italian cities, and was\nfought for with the same ardour as the royal standard in other medieval\nbattles.\n\nThe application of the word \"colour\" to such insignia, however, dates\nonly from the 16th century. It has been suggested that, as the\nprofessional captain gradually ousted the nobleman from the command of\nthe drilled and organized companies of foot--the man of gentle birth, of\ncourse, maintained his ascendancy in the cavalry far longer--the leaders\nof such bodies, no longer possessing coat-armour and individual banners,\nhad recourse to small flags of distinctive colour instead. \"Colour\" is\nin the 16th century a common name in England and middle Europe for the\nunit of infantry; in German the _Fahnlein_ (colour) of landsknechts was\na strong company of more than 300 foot. The ceremonial observances and\nhonours paid nowadays to the colours of infantry were in fact founded\nfor the most part by the landsknechts, for whom the flag (carried by\ntheir \"ensign\") was symbolical of their intense regimental life and\nfeeling. The now universal customs of constituting the colour guard of\npicked men and of saluting the colours were in equal honour then; before\nthat indeed, the appearance of the personal banner of a nobleman implied\nhis actual presence with it, and the due honours were paid, but the\ncolour of the 16th century was not the distinction of one man, but the\nsymbol of the corporate life and unity of the regiment, and thus the new\ncolour ceremonial implied the same allegiance to an impersonal\nregimental spirit, which it has (with the difference that the national\nspirit has been blended with the regimental) retained ever since. The\nold soldier rallied to the colours as a matter of habit in the confusion\nof battle, and the capture or the loss of a colour has always been\nconsidered a special event, glorious or the reverse, in the history of a\nregiment, the importance of this being chiefly sentimental, but having\nas a very real background the fact that, if its colour was lost, a\nregiment was to all intents and purposes dissolved and dispersed.\nFrederick the Great and Napoleon always attached the highest importance\nto the maintenance at all costs of the regimental colours. Even over\nyoung troops the influence of the colour has been extraordinary, and\nmany generals have steadied their men in the heat of battle by taking a\nregimental colour themselves to lead the advance or to form up the\ntroops. Thus in the first battle of Bull Run (1861) the raw Confederate\ntroops were rallied under a heavy fire by General Joseph Johnston, their\ncommander-in-chief, who stood with a colour in his hand until the men\ngathered quickly in rank and file. The archduke Charles at Aspern (1809)\nled his young troops to the last assault with a colour in his hand.\nMarshal Schwerin was killed at the battle of Prague while carrying a\nregimental colour.\n\nIn the British army colours are carried by guards and line (except\nrifle) battalions, each battalion having two colours, the king's and the\nregimental. The size of the colour is 3 ft. 9 in. by 3 ft., and the\nlength of the stave 8 ft. 7 in. The colour has a gold fringe and gold\nand crimson tassels, and bears various devices and \"battle honours.\"\nBoth colours are carried by subaltern officers, and an escort of\nselected non-commissioned officers forms the rest of the colour party.\nThe ceremony of presenting new colours is most impressive. The old\ncolours are \"trooped\" (see below) before being cased and taken to the\nrear. The new colours are then placed against a pile of drums and then\nuncased by the senior majors and the senior subalterns. The consecration\nfollows, after which the colours are presented to the senior subalterns.\nThe battalion gives a general salute when the colours are unfurled, and\nthe ceremony concludes with a march past. \"Trooping the colour\" is a\nmore elaborate ceremonial peculiar to the British service, and is said\nto have been invented by the duke of Cumberland. In this, the colour is\nposted near the left of the line, the right company or guard moves up to\nit, and an officer receives it, after which the guard with the colour\nfiles between the ranks of the remainder from left to right until the\nright of the line is reached.\n\nIn the United States army the infantry regiment has two colours, the\nnational and the regimental. They are carried in action.\n\nIn the French army one colour (_drapeau_) is carried by each infantry\nregiment. It is carried by an officer, usually a _sous-lieutenant_, and\nthe guard is composed of a non-commissioned officer and a party of\n\"first class\" soldiers. Regiments which have taken an enemy's colour or\nstandard in battle have their own colours \"decorated,\" that is, the\ncross of the Legion of Honour is affixed to the stave near the point.\nBattle honours are embroidered on the white of the tricolour. The\n_eagle_ was, in the First and Third Empires, the infantry colour, and\nwas so called from the gilt eagle which surmounted the stave. The\n_chasseurs a pied_, like the rifles of the British army, carry no\ncolours, but the battalion quartered for the time being at Vincennes\ncarries a colour for the whole arm in memory of the first _chasseurs de\nVincennes_. As in other countries, colours are saluted by all armed\nbodies and by individual officers and men. When the _drapeau_ is not\npresent with the regiment its place is taken by an ordinary flag.\n\nThe colours of the German infantry, foot artillery and engineers vary in\ndesign with the states to which the corps belong in the first instance;\nthus, black and white predominate in Prussian colours, red in those of\nWurttemberg regiments, blue in Bavarian, and so on. The point of the\ncolour stave is decorated in some cases with the iron cross, in memory\nof the War of Liberation and of the war of 1870. Each battalion of an\ninfantry regiment has its own colour, which is carried by a\nnon-commissioned officer, and guarded as usual by a colour party. The\ncolour is fastened to the stave by silver nails, and the ceremony of\ndriving the first nail into the stake of a new colour is one of great\nsolemnity. Rings of silver on the stave are engraved with battle\nhonours, the names of those who have fallen in action when carrying the\ncolour, and other commemorative names and dates. The oath taken by each\nrecruit on joining is sworn on the colour (_Fahneneid_).\n\nThe practice in the British army of leaving the colours behind on taking\nthe field dates from the battle of Isandhlwana (22nd January 1879), in\nwhich Lieutenants Melvill and Coghill lost their lives in endeavouring\nto save the colours of the 24th regiment. In savage warfare, in which\nthe British regular army is more usually engaged, it is true that no\nparticular reason can be adduced for imperilling the colours in the\nfield. It is questionable, however, whether this holds good in civilized\nwarfare. Colours were carried in action by both the Russians and the\nJapanese in the war of 1904-5, and they were supplemented on both sides\nby smaller flags or camp colours. The conception of the colour as the\nemblem of union, the rallying-point, of the regiment has been mentioned\nabove. Many hold that such a rallying-point is more than ever required\nin the modern _guerre de masses_, when a national short-service army is\ncollected in all possible strength on the decisive battle-field, and\nthat scarcely any risks or loss of life would be disproportionate to the\nadvantages gained by the presence of the colours. There is further a\nmost important factor in the problem, which has only arisen in recent\nyears through modern perfection in armament. In the first stages of an\nattack, the colours could remain, as in the past, with the closed\nreserves or line of battle, and they would not be uncased and sent into\nthe thick of the fight at all hazards until the decisive assault was\nbeing delivered. Then, it is absolutely essential, as a matter of\ntactics, that the artillery (q.v.), which covers the assault with all\nthe power given it by modern science and training, should be well\ninformed as to the progress of the infantry. This covering fire was\nmaintained by the Japanese until the infantry was actually in the smoke\nof their own shrapnel. With uniforms of neutral tint the need of some\nmeans whereby the artillery officers can, at 4000 yds. range,\ndistinguish their own infantry from that of the enemy, is more\npronounced than ever. The best troops are apt to be unsteadied by being\nfired into by their own guns (e.g. at Elandslaagte), and the more\npowerful the shell, and the more rapid and far-ranging the fire of the\nguns, the more necessary it becomes to prevent such accidents. A\npracticable solution of the difficulty would be to display the colours\nas of old, and this course would not only have to an enhanced degree the\nadvantages it formerly possessed, but would also provide the simplest\nmeans for ensuring the vitally necessary co-operation of infantry and\nartillery in the decisive assault. The duty of carrying the colours was\nalways one of special danger, and sometimes, in the old short-range\nbattles, every officer who carried a flag was shot. That this fate would\nnecessarily overtake the bearer under modern conditions is far from\ncertain, and in any case the few men on the enemy's side who would be\nbrave enough to shoot accurately under heavy shell fire would, however\ndestructive to the colour party, scarcely inflict as much damage on the\nbattalion as a whole, as a dozen or more accidental shells from the\nmassed artillery of its own side.\n\n\n\n\nCOLOUR-SERGEANT, a non-commissioned officer of infantry, ranking, in the\nBritish army, as the senior non-commissioned officer of each company. He\nis charged with many administrative duties, and usually acts as pay\nsergeant. A special duty of the colour-sergeants of a battalion is that\nof attending and guarding the colours and the officers carrying them. In\nsome foreign armies the colours are actually carried by\ncolour-sergeants. The rank was created in the British army in 1813.\n\n\n\n\nCOLOURS OF ANIMALS. Much interest attaches in modern biology to the\nquestions involved in the colours of animals. The subject may best be\nconsidered in two divisions: (1) as regards the uses of colour in the\nstruggle for existence and in sexual relationships; (2) as regards the\nchemical causation.\n\n\n1. BIONOMICS\n\n_Use of Colour for Concealment._--_Cryptic colouring_ is by far the\ncommonest use of colour in the struggle for existence. It is employed\nfor the purpose of attack (_aggressive resemblance_ or _anticryptic\ncolouring_) as well as of defence (_protective resemblance_ or\n_procryptic colouring_). The fact that the same method, concealment, may\nbe used both for attack and defence has been well explained by T. Belt\n(_The Naturalist in Nicaragua_, London, 1888), who suggests as an\nillustration the rapidity of movement which is also made use of by both\npursuer and pursued, which is similarly raised to a maximum in both by\nthe gradual dying out of the slowest through a series of generations.\nCryptic colouring is commonly associated with other aids in the struggle\nfor life. Thus well-concealed mammals and birds, when discovered, will\ngenerally endeavour to escape by speed, and will often attempt to defend\nthemselves actively. On the other hand, small animals which have no\nmeans of active defence, such as large numbers of insects, frequently\ndepend upon concealment alone. Protective resemblance is far commoner\namong animals than aggressive resemblance, in correspondence with the\nfact that predaceous forms are as a rule much larger and much less\nnumerous than their prey. In the case of insectivorous Vertebrata and\ntheir prey such differences exist in an exaggerated form. Cryptic\ncolouring, whether used for defence or attack, may be either _general_\nor _special_. In _general resemblance_ the animal, in consequence of its\ncolouring, produces the same effect as its environment, but the\nconditions do not require any special adaptation of shape and outline.\nGeneral resemblance is especially common among the animals inhabiting\nsome uniformly  expanse of the earth's surface, such as an ocean\nor a desert. In the former, animals of all shapes are frequently\nprotected by their transparent blue colour; on the latter, equally\ndiverse forms are defended by their sandy appearance. The effect of a\nuniform appearance may be produced by a combination of tints in\nstartling contrast. Thus the black and white stripes of the zebra blend\ntogether at a little distance, and \"their proportion is such as exactly\nto match the pale tint which arid ground possesses when seen by\nmoonlight\" (F. Galton, _South Africa_, London, 1889). _Special\nresemblance_ is far commoner than general, and is the form which is\nusually met with on the diversified surface of the earth, on the shores,\nand in shallow water, as well as on the floating masses of Algae on the\nsurface of the ocean, such as the Sargasso Sea. In these environments\nthe cryptic colouring of animals is usually aided by special\nmodifications of shape, and by the instinct which leads them to assume\nparticular attitudes. Complete stillness and the assumption of a certain\nattitude play an essential part in general resemblance on land; but in\nspecial resemblance the attitude is often highly specialized, and\nperhaps more important than any other element in the complex method by\nwhich concealment is effected. In special resemblance the combination of\ncolouring, shape and attitude is such as to produce a more or less exact\nresemblance to some one of the objects in the environment, such as a\nleaf or twig, a patch of lichen, or flake of bark. In all cases the\nresemblance is to some object which is of no interest to the enemy or\nprey respectively. The animal is not hidden from view by becoming\nindistinguishable from its background, as in the cases of general\nresemblance, but it is mistaken for some well-known object.\n\nIn seeking the interpretation of these most interesting and elaborate\nadaptations, attempts have been made along two lines. First, it is\nsought to explain the effect as a result of the direct influence of the\nenvironment upon the individual (G. L. L. Buffon), or by the inherited\neffects of effort and the use and disuse of parts (J. B. P. Lamarck).\nSecond, natural selection is believed to have produced the result, and\nafterwards maintained it by the survival of the best concealed in each\ngeneration. The former suggestions break down when the complex nature of\nnumerous special resemblances is appreciated. Thus the arrangement of\ncolours of many kinds into an appropriate pattern requires the\nco-operation of a suitable shape and the rigidly exact adoption of a\ncertain elaborate attitude. The latter is instinctive, and thus depends\non the central nervous system. The cryptic effect is due to the exact\nco-operation of all these factors; and in the present state of science\nthe only possible hope of an interpretation lies in the theory of\nnatural selection, which can accumulate any and every variation which\ntends towards survival. A few of the chief types of methods by which\nconcealment is effected may be briefly described. The colours of large\nnumbers of Vertebrate animals are darkest on the back, and become\ngradually lighter on the sides, passing into white on the belly. Abbott\nH. Thayer (_The Auk_, vol. xiii., 1896) has suggested that this\ngradation obliterates the appearance of solidity, which is due to\nshadow. The colour-harmony, which is also essential to concealment, is\nproduced because the back is of the same tint as the environment (_e.g._\nearth) bathed in the cold blue-white of the sky, while the belly, being\ncold blue-white bathed in shadow and yellow earth reflections, produces\nthe same effect. Thayer has made models (in the natural history museums\nat London, Oxford and Cambridge) which support his interpretation in a\nvery convincing manner. This method of neutralizing shadow for the\npurpose of concealment by increased lightness of tint was first\nsuggested by E. B. Poulton in the case of a larva (_Trans. Ent. Soc.\nLond._, 1887, p. 294) and a pupa (_Trans. Ent. Soc. Lond._, 1888, pp.\n596, 597), but he did not appreciate the great importance of the\nprinciple. In an analogous method an animal in front of a background of\ndark shadow may have part of its body obliterated by the existence of a\ndark tint, the remainder resembling, e.g., a part of a leaf (W. Muller,\n_Zool. Jahr. J. W. Spengel_, Jena, 1886). This method of rendering\ninvisible any part which would interfere with the resemblance is well\nknown in mimicry. A common aid to concealment is the adoption by\ndifferent individuals of two or more different appearances, each of\nwhich resembles some special object to which an enemy is indifferent.\nThus the leaf-like butterflies (_Kallima_) present various types of\ncolour and pattern on the under side of the wings, each of which closely\nresembles some well-known appearance presented by a dead leaf; and the\ncommon British yellow under-wing moth (_Tryphaena pronuba_) is similarly\npolymorphic on the upper side of its upper wings, which are exposed as\nit suddenly drops among dead leaves. Caterpillars and pupae are also\ncommonly _dimorphic_, green and brown. Such differences as these extend\nthe area which an enemy is compelled to search in order to make a\nliving. In many cases the cryptic colouring changes appropriately\nduring the course of an individual life, either seasonally, as in the\nptarmigan or Alpine hare, or according as the individual enters a new\nenvironment in the course of its growth (such as larva, pupa, imago,\n&c.). In insects with more than one brood in the year, _seasonal\ndimorphism_ is often seen, and the differences are sometimes appropriate\nto the altered condition of the environment as the seasons change. The\ncauses of change in these and Arctic animals are insufficiently worked\nout: in both sets there are observations or experiments which indicate\nchanges from within the organism, merely following the seasons and not\ncaused by them, and other observations or experiments which prove that\ncertain species are susceptible to the changing external influences. In\ncertain species concealment is effected by the use of adventitious\nobjects, which are employed as a covering. Examples of this\n_allocryptic_ defence are found in the tubes of the caddis worms\n(_Phryganea_), or the objects made use of by crabs of the genera _Hyas_,\n_Stenorhynchus_, &c. Such animals are concealed in any environment. If\nsedentary, like the former example, they are covered up with local\nmaterials; if wandering, like the latter, they have the instinct to\nreclothe. Allocryptic methods may also be used for aggressive purposes,\nas the ant-lion larva, almost buried in sand, or the large frog\n_Ceratophrys_, which covers its back with earth when waiting for its\nprey. Another form of allocryptic defence is found in the use of the\ncolour of the food in the digestive organs showing through the\ntransparent body, and in certain cases the adventitious colour may be\ndissolved in the blood or secreted in superficial cells of the body:\nthus certain insects make use of the chlorophyll of their food (Poulton,\n_Proc. Roy. Soc._ liv. 417). The most perfect cryptic powers are\npossessed by those animals in which the individuals can change their\ncolours into any tint which would be appropriate to a normal\nenvironment. This power is widely prevalent in fish, and also occurs in\nAmphibia and Reptilia (the chameleon affording a well-known example).\nAnalogous powers exist in certain Crustacea and Cephalopoda. All these\nrapid changes of colour are due to changes in shape or position of\nsuperficial pigment cells controlled by the nervous system. That the\nlatter is itself stimulated by light through the medium of the eye and\noptic nerve has been proved in many cases. Animals with a short\nlife-history passed in a single environment, which, however, may be very\ndifferent in the case of different individuals, may have a different\nform of _variable cryptic colouring_, namely, the power of adapting\ntheir colour once for all (many pupae), or once or twice (many larvae).\nIn these cases the effect appears to be produced through the nervous\nsystem, although the stimulus of light probably acts on the skin and not\nthrough the eyes. Particoloured surfaces do not produce particoloured\npupae, probably because the antagonistic stimuli neutralize each other\nin the central nervous system, which then disposes the superficial\ncolours so that a neutral or intermediate effect is produced over the\nwhole surface (Poulton, _Trans. Ent. Soc. Lond._, 1892, p. 293). Cryptic\ncolouring may incidentally produce superficial resemblances between\nanimals; thus desert forms concealed in the same way may gain a likeness\nto each other, and in the same way special resemblances, e.g. to lichen,\nbark, grasses, pine-needles, &c., may sometimes lead to a tolerably\nclose similarity between the animals which are thus concealed. Such\nlikeness may be called _syncryptic_ or _common protective_ (or\n_aggressive_) _resemblance_, and it is to be distinguished from mimicry\nand common warning colours, in which the likeness is not incidental, but\nan end in itself. Syncryptic resemblances have much in common with those\nincidentally caused by functional adaptation, such as the mole-like\nforms produced in the burrowing Insectivora, Rodentia and Marsupialia.\nSuch likeness may be called _syntechnic resemblance_, incidentally\nproduced by dynamic similarity, just as syncryptic resemblance is\nproduced by static similarity.\n\n_Use of Colour for Warning and Signalling, or Sematic Coloration._--The\nuse of colour for the purpose of warning is the exact opposite of the\none which has been just described, its object being to render the animal\nconspicuous to its enemies, so that it can be easily seen, well\nremembered, and avoided in future. Warning colours are associated with\nsome quality or weapon which renders the possessor unpleasant or\ndangerous, such as unpalatability, an evil odour, a sting, the\npoison-fang, &c. The object being to warn an enemy off, these colours\nare also called _aposematic_. Recognition markings, on the other hand,\nare _episematic_, assisting the individuals of the same species to keep\ntogether when their safety depends upon numbers, or easily to follow\neach other to a place of safety, the young and inexperienced benefiting\nby the example of the older. Episematic characters are far less common\nthan aposematic, and these than cryptic; although, as regards the latter\ncomparison, the opposite impression is generally produced from the very\nfact that concealment is so successfully attained. Warning or aposematic\ncolours, together with the qualities they indicate, depend, as a rule,\nfor their very existence upon the abundance of palatable food supplied\nby the animals with cryptic colouring. Unpalatability, or even the\npossession of a sting, is not sufficient defence unless there is enough\nfood of another kind to be obtained at the same time and place (Poulton,\n_Proc. Zool. Soc._, 1887, p. 191). Hence insects with warning colours\nare not seen in temperate countries except at the time when insect life\nas a whole is most abundant; and in warmer countries, with well-marked\nwet and dry seasons, it will probably be found that warning colours are\nproportionately less developed in the latter. In many species of African\nbutterflies belonging to the genus _Junonia_ (including _Precis_) the\nwet-season broods are distinguished by the more or less conspicuous\nunder sides of the wings, those of the dry season being highly cryptic.\nWarning colours are, like cryptic, assisted by special adaptations of\nthe body-form, and especially by movements which assist to render the\ncolour as conspicuous as possible. On this account animals with warning\ncolours generally move or fly slowly, and it is the rule in butterflies\nthat the warning patterns are similar on both upper and under sides of\nthe wings. Many animals, when attacked or disturbed, \"sham death\" (as it\nis commonly but wrongly described), falling motionless to the ground. In\nthe case of well-concealed animals this instinct gives them a second\nchance of escape in the earth or among the leaves, &c., when they have\nbeen once detected; animals with warning colours are, on the other hand,\nenabled to assume a position in which their characters are displayed to\nthe full (J. Portschinsky, _Lepidopterorum Rossiae Biologia_, St\nPetersburg, 1890, plate i. figs. 16, 17). In both cases a definite\nattitude is assumed, which is not that of death. Other warning\ncharacters exist in addition to colouring: thus sound is made use of by\nthe disturbed rattlesnake and the Indian _Echis_, &c. Large birds, when\nattacked, often adopt a threatening attitude, accompanied by a\nterrifying sound. The cobra warns an intruder chiefly by attitude and\nthe dilation of the flattened neck, the effect being heightened in some\nspecies by the \"spectacles.\" In such cases we often see the combination\nof cryptic and sematic methods, the animal being concealed until\ndisturbed, when it instantly assumes an aposematic attitude. The\nadvantage to the animal itself is clear: a poisonous snake gains nothing\nby killing an animal it cannot eat; while the poison does not cause\nimmediate death, and the enemy would have time to injure or destroy the\nsnake. In the case of small unpalatable animals with warning colours the\nenemies would only first become aware of the unpleasant quality by\ntasting and often destroying their prey; but the species would gain by\nthe experience thus conveyed, even though the individual might suffer.\nAn insect-eating animal does not come into the world with knowledge: it\nhas to be educated by experience, and warning colours enable this\neducation as to what to avoid to be gained by a small instead of a large\nwaste of life. Furthermore, great tenacity of life is usually possessed\nby animals with warning colours. The tissues of aposematic insects\ngenerally possess great elasticity and power of resistance, so that\nlarge numbers of individuals can recover after very severe treatment.\n\nThe brilliant warning colours of many caterpillars attracted the\nattention of Darwin when he was thinking over his hypothesis of sexual\nselection, and he wrote to A. R. Wallace on the subject (C. Darwin,\n_Life and Letters_, London, 1887, iii. 93). Wallace, in reply, suggested\ntheir interpretation as warning colours, a suggestion since verified by\nexperiment (_Proc. Ent. Soc. Lond._, 1867, p. lxxx; _Trans. Ent. Soc.\nLond._, 1869, pp. 21 and 27). Although animals with warning colours are\nprobably but little attacked by the ordinary enemies of their class,\nthey have special enemies which keep the numbers down to the average.\nThus the cuckoo appears to be an insectivorous bird which will freely\ndevour conspicuously  unpalatable larvae. The effect of the\nwarning colours of caterpillars is often intensified by gregarious\nhabits. Another aposematic use of colours and structures is to divert\nattention from the vital parts, and thus give the animal attacked an\nextra chance of escape. The large, conspicuous, easily torn wings of\nbutterflies and moths act in this way, as is found by the abundance of\nindividuals which may be captured with notches bitten symmetrically out\nof both wings when they were in contact. The eye-spots and \"tails\" so\ncommon on the hinder part of the hind wing, and the conspicuous apex so\nfrequently seen on the fore wing, probably have this meaning. Their\nposition corresponds to the parts which are most offen found to be\nnotched. In some cases (e.g. many _Lycaenidae_) the \"tail\" and eye-spot\ncombine to suggest the appearance of a head with antennae at the\nposterior end of the butterfly, the deception being aided by movements\nof the hind wings. The flat-topped \"tussocks\" of hair on many\ncaterpillars look like conspicuous fleshy projections of the body, and\nthey are held prominently when the larva is attacked. If seized, the\n\"tussock\" comes out, and the enemy is greatly inconvenienced by the fine\nbranched hairs. The tails of lizards, which easily break off, are to be\nsimilarly explained, the attention of the pursuer being probably still\nfurther diverted by the extremely active movements of the amputated\nmember. Certain crabs similarly throw off their claws when attacked, and\nthe claws continue to snap most actively. The tail of the dormouse,\nwhich easily comes off, and the extremely bushy tail of the squirrel,\nare probably of use in the same manner. Animals with warning colours\noften tend to resemble each other superficially. This fact was first\npointed out by H. W. Bates in his paper on the theory of mimicry\n(_Trans. Linn. Soc._ vol. xxiii., 1862, p. 495). He showed that the\nconspicuous, presumably unpalatable, tropical American butterflies,\nbelonging to very different groups, which are mimicked by others, also\ntend to resemble each other, the likeness being often remarkably exact.\nThese resemblances were not explained by his theory of mimicry, and he\ncould only suppose that they had been produced by the direct influence\nof a common environment. The problem was solved in 1879 by Fritz Muller\n(see _Proc. Ent. Soc. Lond._, 1879, p. xx.), who suggested that life is\nsaved by this resemblance between warning colours, inasmuch as the\neducation of young inexperienced enemies is facilitated. Each species\nwhich falls into a group with common warning (_synaposematic_) colours\ncontributes to save the lives of the other members. It is sufficiently\nobvious that the amount of learning and remembering, and consequently of\ninjury and loss of life involved in the process, are reduced when many\nspecies in one place possess the same aposematic colouring, instead of\neach exhibiting a different \"danger-signal.\" These resemblances are\noften described as \"Mullerian mimicry,\" as distinguished from true or\n\"Batesian mimicry\" described in the next section. Similar synaposematic\nresemblances between the specially protected groups of butterflies were\nafterwards shown to exist in tropical Asia, the East Indian Islands and\nPolynesia by F. Moore (_Proc. Zool. Soc._, 1883, p. 201), and in Africa\nby E. B. Poulton (_Report Brit. Assoc._, 1897, p. 688). R. Meldola\n(_Ann. and Mag. Nat. Hist._ x., 1882, p. 417) first pointed out and\nexplained in the same manner the remarkable general uniformity of colour\nand pattern which runs through so many species of each of the\ndistasteful groups of butterflies; while, still later, Poulton (_Proc.\nZool. Soc._, 1887, p. 191) similarly extended the interpretation to the\nsynaposematic resemblances between animals of all kinds in the same\ncountry. Thus, for example, longitudinal or circular bands of the same\nstrongly contrasted colours are found in species of many groups with\ndistant affinities.\n\nCertain animals, especially the Crustacea, make use of the special\ndefence and warning colours of other animals. Thus the English\nhermit-crab, _Pagurus Bernhardus_, commonly carries the sea-anemone,\n_Sagartia parasitica_, on its shell; while another English species,\n_Pagurus Prideauxii_, inhabits a shell which is invariably clothed by\nthe flattened _Adamsia palliata_.\n\nThe white patch near the tail which is frequently seen in the gregarious\nUngulates, and is often rendered conspicuous by adjacent black markings,\nprobably assists the individuals in keeping together; and appearances\nwith probably the same interpretation are found in many birds. The white\nupturned tail of the rabbit is probably of use in enabling the\nindividuals to follow each other readily. The difference between a\ntypical aposematic character appealing to enemies, and episematic\nintended for other individuals of the same species, is well seen when we\ncompare such examples as (1) the huge banner-like white tail,\nconspicuously contrasted with the black or black and white body, by\nwhich the slow-moving skunk warns enemies of its power of emitting an\nintolerably offensive odour; (2) the small upturned white tail of the\nrabbit, only seen when it is likely to be of use and when the owner is\nmoving, and, if pursued, very rapidly moving, towards safety.\n\n_Mimicry_ (see also MIMICRY) or _Pseudo-sematic Colours_.--The fact that\nanimals with distant affinities may more or less closely resemble each\nother was observed long before the existing explanation was possible.\nIts recognition is implied in a number of insect names with the\ntermination -_formis_, usually given to species of various orders which\nmore or less closely resemble the stinging Hymenoptera. The usefulness\nof the resemblance was suggested in Kirby and Spence's _Introduction to\nEntomology_, London, 1817, ii. 223. H. W. Bates (_Trans. Linn. Soc._\nvol. xxiii., 1862, p. 495) first proposed an explanation of mimicry\nbased on the theory of natural selection. He supposed that every step in\nthe formation and gradual improvement of the likeness occurred in\nconsequence of its usefulness in the struggle for life. The subject is\nof additional interest, inasmuch as it was one of the first attempts to\napply the theory of natural selection to a large class of phenomena up\nto that time well known but unexplained. Numerous examples of mimicry\namong tropical American butterflies were discussed by Bates in his\npaper; and in 1866 A. R. Wallace extended the hypothesis to the\nbutterflies of the tropical East (_Trans. Linn. Soc._ vol. xxv., 1866,\np. 19); Roland Trimen (_Trans. Linn. Soc._ vol. xxvi., 1870, p. 497) to\nthose of Africa in 1870. The term mimicry is used in various senses. It\nis often extended, as indeed it was by Bates, to include all the\nsuperficial resemblances between animals and any part of their\nenvironment. Wallace, however, separated the cryptic resemblances\nalready described, and the majority of naturalists have followed this\nconvenient arrangement. In cryptic resemblance an animal resembles some\nobject of no interest to its enemy (or prey), and in so doing is\nconcealed; in mimicry an animal resembles some other animal which is\nspecially disliked by its enemy, or some object which is specially\nattractive to its prey, and in so doing becomes conspicuous. Some\nnaturalists have considered mimicry to include all superficial\nlikenesses between animals, but such a classification would group\ntogether resemblances which have widely different uses. (1) The\nresemblance of a mollusc to the coral on which it lives, or an external\nparasite to the hair or skin of its host, would be _procryptic_; (2)\nthat between moths which resemble lichen, _syncryptic_; (3) between\ndistasteful insects, _synaposematic_; (4) between the Insectivor mole\nand the Rodent mole-rat, _syntechnic_; (5) the essential element in\nmimicry is that it is a false warning (pseud-aposematic) or false\nrecognition (pseud-episematic) character. Some have considered that\nmimicry indicates resemblance to a moving object; but apart from the\nnon-mimetic likenesses between animals classified above, there are\nordinary cryptic resemblances to drifting leaves, swaying bits of twig,\n&c., while truly mimetic resemblances are often specially adapted for\nthe attitude of rest. Many use the term mimicry to include synaposematic\nas well as pseudo-sematic resemblances, calling the former \"Mullerian,\"\nthe latter \"Batesian,\" mimicry. The objection to this grouping is that\nit takes little account of the deceptive element which is essential in\nmimicry. In synaposematic colouring the warning is genuine, in\npseud-aposematic it is a sham. The term mimicry has led to much\nmisunderstanding from the fact that in ordinary speech it implies\ndeliberate imitation. The production of mimicry in an individual animal\nhas no more to do with consciousness or \"taking thought\" than any of the\nother processes of growth. Protective mimicry is here defined as an\nadvantageous and superficial resemblance of one animal to another, which\nlatter is specially defended so as to be disliked or feared by the\nmajority of enemies of the groups to which both belong--a resemblance\nwhich appeals to the sense of sight, sometimes to that of hearing, and\nrarely to smell, but does not extend to deep-seated characters except\nwhen the superficial likeness is affected by them. _Mutatis mutandis_\nthis definition will apply to aggressive (pseud-episematic) resemblance.\nThe conditions under which mimicry occurs have been stated by\nWallace:--\"(1) that the imitative species occur in the same area and\noccupy the same station as the imitated; (2) that the imitators are\nalways the more defenceless; (3) that the imitators are always less\nnumerous in individuals; (4) that the imitators differ from the bulk of\ntheir allies; (5) that the imitation, however minute, is _external_ and\n_visible_ only, never extending to internal characters or to such as do\nnot affect the external appearance.\" It is obvious that conditions 2 and\n3 do not hold in the case of Mullerian mimicry. Mimicry has been\nexplained, independently of natural selection, by the supposition that\nit is the common expression of the direct action of common causes, such\nas climate, food, &c.; also by the supposition of independent lines of\nevolution leading to the same result without any selective action in\nconsequence of advantage in the struggle; also by the operation of\nsexual selection.\n\nIt is proposed, in conclusion, to give an account of the broad aspects\nof mimicry, and attempt a brief discussion of the theories of origin of\neach class of facts (see Poulton, _Linn. Soc. Journ. Zool._, 1898, p.\n558). It will be found that in many cases the argument here made use of\napplies equally to the origin of cryptic and sematic colours. The\nrelationship between these classes has been explained: mimicry is, as\nWallace has stated (_Darwinism_, London, 1889), merely \"an exceptional\nform of protective resemblance. \"Now, protective (cryptic) resemblance\ncannot be explained on any of the lines suggested above, except natural\nselection; even sexual selection fails, because cryptic resemblance is\nespecially common in the immature stages of insect life. But it would be\nunreasonable to explain mimetic resemblance by one set of principles and\ncryptic by another and totally different set. Again, it may be plausible\nto explain the mimicry of one butterfly for another on one of the\nsuggested lines, but the resemblance of a fly or moth to a wasp is by no\nmeans so easy, and here selection would be generally conceded; yet the\nappeal to antagonistic principles to explain such closely related cases\nwould only be justified by much direct evidence. Furthermore, the\nmimetic resemblances between butterflies are not haphazard, but the\nmodels almost invariably belong only to certain sub-families, the\n_Danainae_ and _Acraeinae_ in all the warmer parts of the world, and, in\ntropical America, the _Ithomiinae_ and _Heliconinae_ as well. These\ngroups have the characteristics of aposematic species, and no theory but\nnatural selection explains their invariable occurrence as models\nwherever they exist. It is impossible to suggest, except by natural\nselection, any explanation of the fact that mimetic resemblances are\nconfined to changes which produce or strengthen a superficial likeness.\nVery deep-seated changes are generally involved, inasmuch as the\nappropriate instincts as to attitude, &c., are as important as colour\nand marking. The same conclusion is reached when we analyse the nature\nof mimetic resemblance and realize how complex it really is, being made\nup of _colours_, both pigmentary and structural, _pattern_, _form_,\n_attitude_ and _movement_. A plausible interpretation of colour may be\nwildly improbable when applied to some other element, and there is _no_\nexplanation except natural selection which can explain all these\nelements. The appeal to the direct action of local conditions in common\noften breaks down upon the slightest investigation, the difference in\nhabits between mimic and model in the same locality causing the most\ncomplete divergence in their conditions of life. Thus many insects\nproduced from burrowing larvae mimic those whose larvae live in the\nopen. Mimetic resemblance is far commoner in the female than in the\nmale, a fact readily explicable by selection, as suggested by Wallace,\nfor the female is compelled to fly more slowly and to expose itself\nwhile laying eggs, and hence a resemblance to the slow-flying freely\nexposed models is especially advantageous. The facts that mimetic\nspecies occur in the same locality, fly at the same time of the year as\ntheir models, and are day-flying species even though they may belong to\nnocturnal groups, are also more or less difficult to explain except on\nthe theory of natural selection, and so also is the fact that mimetic\nresemblance is produced in the most varied manner. A spider resembles\nits model, an ant, by a modification of its body-form into a superficial\nresemblance, and by holding one pair of legs to represent antennae;\ncertain bugs (Hemiptera) and beetles have also gained a shape unusual in\ntheir respective groups, a shape which superficially resembles an ant; a\nLocustid (_Myrmecophana_) has the shape of an ant painted, as it were,\non its body, all other parts resembling the background and invisible; a\nMembracid (Homoptera) is entirely unlike an ant, but is concealed by an\nant-like shield. When we further realize that in this and other examples\nof mimicry \"the likeness is almost always detailed and remarkable,\nhowever it is attained, while the methods differ absolutely,\" we\nrecognize that natural selection is the only possible explanation\nhitherto suggested. In the cases of aggressive mimicry an animal\nresembles some object which is attractive to its prey. Examples are\nfound in the flower-like species of _Mantis_, which attract the insects\non which they feed. Such cases are generally described as possessing\n\"alluring colours,\" and are regarded as examples of aggressive\n(anticryptic) resemblance, but their logical position is here.\n\n_Colours displayed in Courtship, Secondary Sexual Characters, Epigamic\nColours._--Darwin suggested the explanation of these appearances in his\ntheory of _sexual selection_ (_The Descent of Man_, London, 1874). The\nrivalry of the males for the possession of the females he believed to be\ndecided by the preference of the latter for those individuals with\nespecially bright colours, highly developed plumes, beautiful song, &c.\nWallace does not accept the theory, but believes that natural selection,\neither directly or indirectly, accounts for all the facts. Probably the\nmajority of naturalists follow Darwin in this respect. The subject is\nmost difficult, and the interpretation of a great proportion of the\nexamples in a high degree uncertain, so that a very brief account is\nhere expedient. That selection of some kind has been operative is\nindicated by the diversity of the elements into which the effects can be\nanalysed. The most complete set of observations on epigamic display was\nmade by George W. and Elizabeth G. Peckham upon spiders of the family\n_Attidae_ (_Nat. Hist. Soc. of Wisconsin_, vol. i., 1889). These\nobservations afforded the authors \"conclusive evidence that the females\npay close attention to the love-dances of the males, and also that they\nhave not only the power, but the will, to exercise a choice among the\nsuitors for their favour.\" Epigamic characters are often concealed\nexcept during courtship; they are found almost exclusively in species\nwhich are diurnal or semi-diurnal in their habits, and are excluded from\nthose parts of the body which move too rapidly to be seen. They are very\ncommonly directly associated with the nervous system; and in certain\nfish, and probably in other animals, an analogous heightening of effect\naccompanies nervous excitement other than sexual, such as that due to\nfighting or feeding. Although there is epigamic display in species with\nsexes alike, it is usually most marked in those with secondary sexual\ncharacters specially developed in the male. These are an exception to\nthe rule in heredity, in that their appearance is normally restricted to\na single sex, although in many of the higher animals they have been\nproved to be latent in the other, and may appear after the essential\norgans of sex have been removed or become functionless. This is also the\ncase in the Aculeate Hymenoptera when the reproductive organs have been\ndestroyed by the parasite _Stylops_. J. T. Cunningham has argued\n(_Sexual Dimorphism in the Animal Kingdom_, London, 1900) that secondary\nsexual characters have been produced by direct stimulation due to\ncontests, &c., in the breeding period, and have gradually become\nhereditary, a hypothesis involving the assumption that acquired\ncharacters are transmitted. Wallace suggests that they are in part to be\nexplained as \"recognition characters,\" in part as an indication of\nsurplus vital activity in the male.\n\n  AUTHORITIES.--The following works may also be consulted:--T. Eimer,\n  _Orthogenesis der Schmetterlinge_ (Leipzig, 1898); E. B. Poulton, _The\n  Colours of Animals_ (London, 1890); F. E. Beddard, _Animal Coloration_\n  (London, 1892); E. Haase, _Researches on Mimicry_ (translation,\n  London, 1896); A. R. Wallace, _Natural Selection and Tropical Nature_\n  (London, 1895); _Darwinism_ (London, 1897); A. H. Thayer and G. H.\n  Thayer, _Concealing-Coloration in the Animal Kingdom_ (New York,\n  1910).     (E. B. P.)\n\n\n2. CHEMISTRY\n\nThe coloration of the _surface_ of animals is caused either by\n_pigments_, or by a certain _structure_ of the surface by means of which\nthe light falling on it, or reflected through its superficial\ntransparent layers, undergoes diffraction or other optical change. Or it\nmay be the result of a combination of these two causes. It plays an\nimportant part in the relationship of the animal to its environment, in\nconcealment, in mimicry, and so on; the presence of a pigment in the\nintegument may also serve a more direct physiological purpose, such as a\nrespiratory function. The coloration of birds' feathers, of the skin of\nmany fishes, of many insects, is partially at least due to structure and\nthe action of the peculiar pigmented cells known as \"chromatophores\"\n(which W. Garstang defines as pigmented cells specialized for the\ndischarge of the chromatic function), and is much better marked when\nthese have for their background a \"reflecting layer\" such as is provided\nby guanin, a substance closely related to uric acid. Such a mechanism is\nseen to greatest advantage in fishes. Among these, guanin may be present\nin a finely granular form, causing the light falling on it to be\nscattered, thus producing a white effect; or it may be present in a\npeculiar crystalline form, the crystals being known as \"iridocytes\"; or\nin a layer of closely apposed needles forming a silvery sheet or mirror.\nIn the iris of some fishes the golden red colour is produced by the\nlight reflected from such a layer of guanin needles having to pass\nthrough a thin layer of a reddish pigment, known as a \"lipochrome.\"\nAgain, in some lepidopterous insects a white or a yellow appearance is\nproduced by the deposition of uric acid or a nearly allied substance on\nthe surface of the wings. In many animals, but especially among\ninvertebrates, colouring matters or pigments play an important role in\nsurface coloration; in some cases such coloration may be of benefit to\nthe animal, but in others the integument simply serves as an organ for\nthe excretion of waste pigmentary substances. Pigments (1) may be of\ndirect physiological importance; (2) they may be excretory; or (3) they\nmay be introduced into the body of the animal with the food.\n\nOf the many pigments which have been described up to the present time,\nvery few have been subjected to elementary chemical analysis, owing to\nthe great difficulties attending their isolation. An extremely small\namount of pigment will give rise to a great amount of coloration, and\nthe pigments are generally accompanied by impurities of various kinds\nwhich cling to them with great tenacity, so that when one has been\nthoroughly cleansed very little of it remains for ultimate analysis.\nMost of these substances have been detected by means of the\nspectroscope, their absorption bands serving for their recognition, but\nmere identity of spectrum does not necessarily mean chemical identity,\nand a few chemical tests have also to be applied before a conclusion can\nbe drawn. The absorption bands are referred to certain definite parts of\nthe spectrum, such as the Fraunhofer lines, or they may be given in\nwave-lengths. For this purpose the readings of the spectroscope are\nreduced to wave-lengths by means of interpolation curves; or if Zeiss's\nmicrospectroscope be used, the position of bands in wave-lengths\n(denoted by the Greek letter [lambda]) may be read directly.\n\nHaemoglobin, the red colouring matter of vertebrate blood,\nC758H1203N195S3FeO218, and its derivatives haematin, C32H30N4FeO3, and\nhaematoporphyrin, C16H18N2O3, are colouring matters about which we\npossess definite chemical knowledge, as they have been isolated,\npurified and analysed. Most of the bile pigments of mammals have\nlikewise been isolated and studied chemically, and all of these are\nfully described in the text-books of physiology and physiological\nchemistry. Haemoglobin, though physiologically of great importance in\nthe respiratory process of vertebrate animals, is yet seldom used for\nsurface pigmentation, except in the face of white races of man or in\nother parts in monkeys, &c. In some worms the transparent skin allows\nthe haemoglobin of the blood to be seen through the integument, and in\ncertain fishes also the haemoglobin is visible through the integument.\nIt is a curious and noteworthy fact that in some invertebrate animals in\nwhich no haemoglobin occurs, we meet with its derivatives. Thus haematin\nis found in the so-called bile of slugs, snails, the limpet and the\ncrayfish. In sea-anemones there is a pigment which yields some of the\ndecomposition-products of haemoglobin, and associated with this is a\ngreen pigment apparently identical with biliverdin (C16H18N2O4), a green\nbile pigment. Again, haematoporphyrin is found in the integuments of\nstar-fishes and slugs, and occurs in the \"dorsal streak\" of the\nearth-worm _Lumbricus terrestris_, and perhaps in other species.\nHaematoporphyrin and biliverdin also occur in the egg-shells of certain\nbirds, but in this case they are derived from haemoglobin. Haemoglobin\nis said to be found as low down in the animal kingdom as the\nEchinoderms, e.g. in _Ophiactis virens_ and _Thyonella gemmata_. It also\noccurs in the blood of _Planorbis corneus_ and in the pharyngeal muscles\nof other mollusca.\n\nA great number of other pigments have been described; for example, in\nthe muscles and tissues of animals, both vertebrate and invertebrate,\nare the histohaematins, of which a special muscle pigment, myohaematin,\nis one. In vertebrates the latter is generally accompanied by\nhaemoglobin, but in invertebrates--with the exception of the pharyngeal\nmuscles of the mollusca--it occurs alone. Although closely related to\nhaemoglobin or its derivative haemochromogen, the histohaematins are yet\ntotally distinct, and they are found in animals where not a trace of\nhaemoglobin can be detected. Another interesting pigment is turacin,\nwhich contains about 7% of nitrogen, found by Professor A. H. Church in\nthe feathers of the Cape lory and other plantain-eaters, from which it\ncan be extracted by water containing a trace of ammonia. It has been\nisolated, purified and analysed by Professor Church. From it may be\nobtained turacoporphyrin, which is identical with haematoporphyrin, and\ngives the band in the ultra-violet which J. L. Soret and subsequently A.\nGamgee have found to be characteristic of haemoglobin and its compounds.\nTuracin itself gives a peculiar two-banded spectrum, and contains about\n7% of copper in its molecule. Another copper-containing pigment is\nhaemocyanin, which in the oxidized state gives a blue colour to the\nblood of various Mollusca and Arthropoda. Like haemoglobin, it acts as\nan oxygen-carrier in respiration, but it takes no part in surface\ncoloration.\n\nA class of pigments widely distributed among plants and animals are the\nlipochromes. As their name denotes, they are allied to fat and generally\naccompany it, being soluble in fat solvents. They play an important part\nin surface coloration, and may be greenish, yellow or red in colour.\nThey contain no nitrogen. As an example of a lipochrome which has been\nisolated, crystallized and purified, we may mention carotin, which has\nrecently been found in green leaves. Chlorophyll, which is so often\nassociated with a lipochrome, has been found in some Infusoria, and in\n_Hydra_ and _Spongilla_, &c. In some cases it is probably formed by the\nanimal; in other cases it may be due to symbiotic algae, while in the\ngastric gland of many Mollusca, Crustacea and Echinodermata it is\nderived from food-chlorophyll. Here it is known as entero-chlorophyll.\nThe black pigments which occur among both vertebrate and invertebrate\nanimals often have only one attribute in common, viz. blackness, for\namong the discordant results of analysis one thing is certain, viz. that\nthe melanins from vertebrate animals are not identical with those from\ninvertebrate animals. The melanosis or blackening of insect blood, for\ninstance, is due to the oxidation of a chromogen, the pigment produced\nbeing known as a uranidine. In some sponges a somewhat similar pigment\nhas been noticed. Other pigments have been described, such as\nactiniochrome, echinochrome, pentacrinin, antedonin, polyperythrin\n(which appears to be a haematoporphyrin), the floridines,\nspongioporphyrin, &c., which need no mention here; all these pigments\ncan only be distinguished by means of the spectroscope.\n\nMost of the pigments are preceded by colourless substances known as\n\"chromogens,\" which by the action of the oxygen of the air and by other\nagencies become changed into the corresponding pigments. In some cases\nthe pigments are built up in the tissues of an animal, in others they\nappear to be derived more or less directly from the food. Derivatives of\nchlorophyll and lipochromes especially, seem to be taken up from the\nintestine, probably by the agency of leucocytes, in which they may occur\nin combination with, or dissolved by, fatty matters and excreted by the\nintegument. In worms especially, the skin seems to excrete many effete\nsubstances, pigments included. No direct connexion has been traced\nbetween the chlorophyll eaten with the food and the haemoglobin of blood\nand muscle. Attention may, however, be drawn to the work of Dr E.\nSchunck, who has shown that a substance closely resembling\nhaematoporphyrin can be prepared from chlorophyll; this is known as\nphylloporphyrin. Not only does the _visible_ spectrum of this substance\nresemble that of haematoporphyrin, but the _invisible_ ultra-violet\nalso, as shown by C. A. Schunck.\n\n  The reader may refer to E. A. Schafer's _Text-Book of Physiology_\n  (1898) for A. Gamgee's article \"On Haemoglobin, and its Compounds\"; to\n  the writer's papers in the _Phil. Trans._ and _Proc. Roy. Soc._ from\n  1881 onwards, and also _Quart. Journ. Micros. Science_ and _Journ. of\n  Physiol._; to C. F. W. Krukenberg's _Vergleichende physiologische\n  Studien_ from 1879 onwards, and to his _Vortrage_. Miss M. I. Newbigin\n  collected in _Colour in Nature_ (1898) most of the recent literature\n  of this subject. Dr E. Schunck's papers will be found under the\n  heading \"Contribution to the Chemistry of Chlorophyll\" in _Proc. Roy.\n  Soc._ from 1885 onwards; and Mr C. A. Schunck's paper in _Proc. Roy.\n  Soc._ vol. lxiii.     (C. A. MacM.)\n\n\n\n\nCOLSTON, EDWARD (1636-1721), English philanthropist, the son of William\nColston, a Bristol merchant of good position, was born at Bristol on the\n2nd of November 1636. He is generally understood to have spent some\nyears of his youth and manhood as a factor in Spain, with which country\nhis family was long connected commercially, and whence, by means of a\ntrade in wines and oil, great part of his own vast fortune was to come.\nOn his return he seems to have settled in London, and to have bent\nhimself resolutely to the task of making money. In 1681, the date of his\nfather's decease, he appears as a governor of Christ's hospital, to\nwhich noble foundation he afterwards gave frequently and largely. In the\nsame year he probably began to take an active interest in the affairs of\nBristol, where he is found about this time embarked in a sugar refinery;\nand during the remainder of his life he seems to have divided his\nattention pretty equally between the city of his birth and that of his\nadoption. In 1682 he appears in the records of the great western port as\nadvancing a sum of L1800 to its needy corporation; in 1683 as \"a free\nburgess and _meire_ (St Kitts) merchant\" he was made a member of the\nMerchant's Hall; and in 1684 he was appointed one of a committee for\nmanaging the affairs of Clifton. In 1685 he again appears as the city's\ncreditor for about L2000, repayment of which he is found insisting on in\n1686. In 1689 he was chosen auditor by the vestry at Mortlake, where he\nwas residing in an old house once the abode of Ireton and Cromwell. In\n1691, on St Michael's Hill, Bristol, at a cost of L8000, he founded an\nalmshouse for the reception of 24 poor men and women, and endowed with\naccommodation for \"Six Saylors,\" at a cost of L600, the merchant's\nalmshouses in King Street. In 1696, at a cost of L8000, he endowed a\nfoundation for clothing and teaching 40 boys (the books employed were to\nhave in them \"no tincture of Whiggism\"); and six years afterwards he\nexpended a further sum of L1500 in rebuilding the school-house. In 1708;\nat a cost of L41,200, he built and endowed his great foundation on Saint\nAugustine's Back, for the instruction, clothing, maintaining and\napprenticing of 100 boys; and in time of scarcity, during this and next\nyear, he transmitted \"by a private hand\" some L20,000 to the London\ncommittee. In 1710, after a poll of four days, he was sent to\nparliament, to represent, on strictest Tory principles, his native city\nof Bristol; and in 1713, after three years of silent political life, he\nresigned this charge. He died at Mortlake in 1721, having nearly\ncompleted his eighty-fifth year; and was buried in All Saints' church,\nBristol.\n\nColston, who was in the habit of bestowing large sums yearly for the\nrelease of poor debtors and the relief of indigent age and sickness, and\nwho gave (1711) no less than L6000 to increase Queen Anne's Bounty Fund\nfor the augmentation of small livings, was always keenly interested in\nthe organization and management of his foundations; the rules and\nregulations were all drawn up by his hand, and the minutest details of\ntheir constitution and economy were dictated by him. A high churchman\nand Tory, with a genuine intolerance of dissent and dissenters, his name\nand example have served as excuses for the formation of two political\nbenevolent societies--the \"Anchor\" (founded 1769) and the \"Dolphin\"\n(founded 1749),--and also the \"Grateful\" (founded 1758), whose rivalry\nhas been perhaps as instrumental in keeping their patron's memory green\nas have the splendid charities with which he enriched his native city\n(see BRISTOL).\n\n  See Garrard, _Edward Colston, the Philanthropist_ (4to, Bristol,\n  1852); Pryce, _A Popular History of Bristol_ (1861); Manchee, _Bristol\n  Charities_.\n\n\n\n\nCOLT, SAMUEL (1814-1862), American inventor, was born on the 19th of\nJuly 1814 at Hartford, Connecticut, where his father had a manufactory\nof silks and woollens. At the age of ten he left school for the factory,\nand at fourteen, then being in a boarding school at Amherst,\nMassachusetts, he made a runaway voyage to India, during which (in 1829)\nhe constructed a wooden model, still existing, of what was afterwards to\nbe the revolver (see PISTOL). On his return he learned chemistry from\nhis father's bleaching and dyeing manager, and under the assumed name\n\"Dr Coult\" travelled over the United States and Canada lecturing on that\nscience. The profits of two years of this work enabled him to continue\nhis researches and experiments. In 1835, having perfected a\nsix-barrelled rotating breech, he visited Europe, and patented his\ninventions in London and Paris, securing the American right on his\nreturn; and the same year he founded at Paterson, New Jersey, the Patent\nArms Company, for the manufacture of his revolvers only. As early as\n1837 revolvers were successfully used by United States troops, under\nLieut.-Colonel William S. Harney, in fighting against the Seminole\nIndians in Florida. Colt's scheme, however, did not succeed; the arms\nwere not generally appreciated; and in 1842 the company became\ninsolvent. No revolvers were made for five years, and none were to be\nhad when General Zachary Taylor wrote for a supply from the seat of war\nin Mexico. In 1847 the United States government ordered 1000 from the\ninventor; but before these could be produced he had to construct a new\nmodel, for a pistol of the company's make could nowhere be found. This\ncommission was the beginning of an immense business. The little armoury\nat Whitneyville (New Haven, Connecticut), where the order for Mexico was\nexecuted, was soon exchanged for larger workshops at Hartford. These in\ntheir turn gave place (1852) to the enormous factory of the Colt's\nPatent Fire-Arms Manufacturing Company, doubled in 1861, on the banks of\nthe Connecticut river, within the city limits of Hartford, where so many\nmillions of revolvers with all their appendages have been manufactured.\nThence was sent, for the Russian and English governments, to Tula and\nEnfield, the whole of the elaborate machinery devised by Colt for the\nmanufacture of his pistols. Colt introduced and patented a number of\nimprovements in his revolver, and also invented a submarine battery for\nharbour defence. He died at Hartford on the 10th of January 1862.\n\n\n\n\nCOLT'S-FOOT, the popular name of a small herb, _Tussilago Farfara_, a\nmember of the natural order Compositae, which is common in Britain in\ndamp, heavy soils. It has a stout branching underground stem, which\nsends up in March and April scapes about 6 in. high, each bearing a head\nof bright yellow flowers, the male in the centre surrounded by a much\nlarger number of female. The flowers are succeeded by the fruits, which\nbear a soft snow-white woolly pappus. The leaves, which appear later,\nare broadly cordate with an angular or lobed outline, and are covered on\nthe under-face with a dense white felt. The botanical name, _Tussilago_,\nrecalls its use as a medicine for cough (_tussis_). The leaves are\nsmoked in cases of asthma.\n\n\n\n\nCOLUGO, or COBEGO, either of two species of the zoological genus\n_Galeopithecus_. These animals live in the forests of the Malay\nPeninsula, Sumatra, Borneo and the Philippine Islands, where they feed\nchiefly on leaves, and probably also on insects. In size they may be\ncompared with cats; the long slender limbs are connected by a broad fold\nof skin extending outwards from the sides of the neck and body, the\nfingers and toes are webbed, and the hind-limbs joined by an outer\nmembrane as in bats. Their habits are nocturnal, and during the daytime\nthey cling to the trunks or limbs of trees head downwards in a state of\nrepose. With the approach of night their season of activity commences,\nwhen they may be occasionally seen gliding from tree to tree supported\non their cutaneous parachute, and they have been noticed as capable of\ntraversing in this way a space of 70 yds. with a descent of only about\none in five. Europeans in the East know these animals as \"flying\nlemurs.\" (See GALEOPITHECUS.)\n\n\n\n\nCOLUMBA, SAINT (Irish, _Colum_), Irish saint, was born on the 7th of\nDecember 521, in all probability at Gartan in Co. Donegal. His father\nFeidlimid was a member of the reigning family in Ireland and was closely\nallied to that of Dalriada (Argyll). His mother Eithne was of Leinster\nextraction and was descended from an illustrious provincial king. To\nthese powerful connexions as much as to his piety and ability, he owed\nthe immense influence he possessed. Later lives state that the saint was\nalso called Crimthann (fox), and Reeves suggests that he may have had\ntwo names, the one baptismal, the other secular. He was afterwards known\nas Columkille, or Columba of the Church, to distinguish him from others\nof the same name. During his early years the Irish Church was reformed\nby Gildas and Finian of Clonard, and numerous monasteries were founded\nwhich made Ireland renowned as a centre of learning. Columba himself\nstudied under two of the most distinguished Irishmen of his day, Finian\nof Moville (at the head of Strangford Lough) and Finian of Clonard.\nAlmost as a matter of course, under such circumstances, he embraced the\nmonastic life. He was ordained deacon while at Moville, and afterwards,\nwhen about thirty years of age, was raised to the priesthood. During his\nresidence in Ireland he founded, in addition to a number of churches,\ntwo famous monasteries, one named Daire Calgaich (Derry) on the banks of\nLough Foyle, the other Dair-magh (Durrow) in King's county.\n\nIn 563 he left his native land, accompanied by twelve disciples, and\nwent on a mission to northern Britain, perhaps on the invitation of his\nkinsman Conall, king of Dalriada. Irish accounts represent Columba as\nundertaking this mission in consequence of the censure expressed against\nhim by the clergy after the battle of Cooldrevny; but this is probably a\nfabrication. The saint's labours in Scotland must be regarded as a\nmanifestation of the same spirit of missionary enterprise with which so\nmany of his countrymen were imbued. Columba established himself on the\nisland of Hy or Iona, where he erected a church and a monastery. About\nthe year 565 he applied himself to the task of converting the heathen\nkingdom of the northern Picts. Crossing over to the mainland he\nproceeded to the residence, on the banks of the Ness, of Brude, king of\nthe Picts. By his preaching, his holy life, and, as his earliest\nbiographers assert, by the performance of miracles, he converted the\nking and many of his subjects. The precise details, except in a few\ncases, are unknown, or obscured by exaggeration and fiction; but it is\ncertain that the whole of northern Scotland was converted by the labours\nof Columba, and his disciples and the religious instruction of the\npeople provided for by the erection of numerous monasteries. The\nmonastery of Iona was reverenced as the mother house of all these\nfoundations, and its abbots were obeyed as the chief ecclesiastical\nrulers of the whole nation of the northern Picts. There were then\nneither dioceses nor parishes in Ireland and Celtic Scotland; and by the\nColumbite rule the bishops themselves, although they ordained the\nclergy, were subject to the jurisdiction of the abbots of Iona, who,\nlike the founder of the order, were only presbyters. In matters of\nritual they agreed with the Western Church on the continent, save in a\nfew particulars such as the precise time of keeping Easter and manner of\ntonsure.\n\nColumba was honoured by his countrymen, the Scots of Britain and\nIreland, as much as by his Pictish converts, and in his character of\nchief ecclesiastical ruler he gave formal benediction and inauguration\nto Aidan, the successor of Conall, as king of the Scots. He accompanied\nthat prince to Ireland in 575, and took a leading part in a council held\nat Drumceat in Ulster, which determined once and for all the position of\nthe ruler of Dalriada with regard to the king of Ireland. The last years\nof Columba's life appear to have been mainly spent at Iona. There he was\nalready revered as a saint, and whatever credit may be given to some\nportions of the narratives of his biographers, there can be no doubt as\nto the wonderful influence which he exercised, as to the holiness of his\nlife, and as to the love which he uniformly manifested to God and to his\nneighbour.\n\nIn the summer of 597 he knew that his end was approaching. On Saturday\nthe 8th of June he was able, with the help of one of his monks, to\nascend a little hill above the monastery and to give it his farewell\nblessing. Returning to his cell he continued a labour in which he had\nbeen engaged, the transcription of the Psalter. Having finished the\nverse of the 34th Psalm where it is written, \"They who seek the Lord\nshall want no manner of thing that is good,\" he said, \"Here I must\nstop:--what follows let Baithen write\"; indicating, as was believed, his\nwish that his cousin Baithen should succeed him as abbot. He was present\nat evening in the church, and when the midnight bell sounded for the\nnocturnal office early on Sunday morning he again went thither\nunsupported, but sank down before the altar and passed away as in a\ngentle sleep.\n\nSeveral Irish poems are ascribed to Columba, but they are manifestly\ncompositions of a later age. Three Latin hymns may, however, be\nattributed to the saint with some degree of certainty.\n\n  The original materials for a life of St Columba are unusually full.\n  The earliest biography was written by one of his successors, Cuminius,\n  who became abbot of Iona in 657. Much more important is the\n  enlargement of that work by Adamnan, who became abbot of Iona in 679.\n  These narratives are supplemented by the brief but most valuable\n  notices given by the Venerable Bede. See W. Reeves, _Life of St\n  Columba, written by Adamnan_ (Dublin, 1857); W. F. Skene, _Celtic\n  Scotland_, vol. ii. \"Church and Culture\" (Edinburgh, 1877).\n       (E. C. Q.)\n\n\n\n\nCOLUMBAN (543-615), Irish saint and writer, was born in Leinster in 543,\nand was educated in the monastery of Bangor, Co. Down. About the year\n585 he left Ireland together with twelve other monks, and established\nhimself in the Vosges, among the ruins of an ancient fortification\ncalled Anagrates, the present Anegray in the department of Haute-Saone.\nHis enemies accused him before a synod of French bishops (602) for\nkeeping Easter according to the old British and now unorthodox way, and\na more powerful conspiracy was organized against him at the court of\nBurgundy for boldly rebuking the crimes of King Theuderich II. and the\nqueen-mother Brunhilda. He was banished and forcibly removed from his\nmonastery, and with St Gall and others of the monks he withdrew into\nSwitzerland, where he preached with no great success to the Suebi and\nAlamanni. Being again compelled to flee, he retired to Italy, and\nfounded the monastery of Bobbio in the Apennines, where he remained till\nhis death, which took place on the 21st of November 615. His writings,\nwhich include some Latin poems, prove him a man of learning, and he\nappears to have been acquainted not only with the Latin classics, but\nalso with Greek, and even Hebrew.\n\n  The collected edition of St Columban's writings was published by\n  Patrick Fleming in his _Collectanea sacra Hiberni_ (Louvain, 1667),\n  and reproduced by Migne, p. 4, vol. lxxxvi. (Paris, 1844). See\n  further, Wright's _Biographia Literaria_. Columban's _Regula\n  Coenobitalis cum Poenitenliali_ is to be found in the _Codex\n  Regularum_ (Paris, 1638). A complete bibliography is given in U.\n  Chevallier, _Repertoire des sources hist_. (Bio. Bibliogr.), vol. i.\n  990 (Paris, 1905).\n\n\n\n\nCOLUMBANI, PLACIDO, Italian architectural designer, who worked chiefly\nin England in the latter part of the 18th century. He belonged to the\nschool of the Adams and Pergolesi, and like them frequently designed the\nenrichments of furniture. He was a prolific producer of chimney-pieces,\nwhich are often mistaken for Adam work, of moulded friezes, and painted\nplaques for cabinets and the like. There can be no question that the\nEnglish furniture designers of the end of the 18th century, and\nespecially the Adams, Hepplewhite and Sheraton, owed much to his\ngraceful, flowing and classical conceptions, although they are often\ninferior to those of Pergolesi. His books are still a valuable\nstore-house of sketches for internal architectural decoration. His\nprincipal works are:--_Vases and Tripods_ (1770); _A New Book of\nOrnaments, containing a variety of elegant designs for Modern Panels,\ncommonly executed in Stucco, Wood or Painting, and used in decorating\nPrincipal Rooms_ (1775); _A variety of Capitals, Friezes and Corniches,\nand how to increase and decrease them, still retaining their\nproportions_ (1776). He also assisted John Crunden in the production of\n_The Chimneypiece Makers' Daily Assistant_ (1776).\n\n\n\n\nCOLUMBARIUM (Lat. _columba_, a dove), a pigeon-house. The term is\napplied in architecture to those sepulchral chambers in and near Rome,\nthe walls of which were sunk with small niches (_columbaria_) to receive\nthe cinerary urns. Vitruvius (iv. 2) employs the term to signify the\nholes made in a wall to receive the ends of the timbers of a floor or\nroof.\n\n\n\n\nCOLUMBIA, a city and the county-seat of Boone county, Missouri, U.S.A.,\nsituated in the central part of the state, about 145 m. (by rail) W.N.W.\nof St Louis. Pop. (1890) 4000; (1900) 5651 (1916 <DW64>s); (1910) 9662.\nColumbia is served by the Wabash and the Missouri, Kansas & Texas\nrailways. It is primarily an educational centre, is a market for grain\nand farm products, and has grain elevators, a packing house, a shoe\nfactory and brick works. Columbia is the seat of the University of\nMissouri, a coeducational state institution, established in 1839 and\nopened in 1841; it received no direct financial support from the state\nuntil 1867, and its founding was due to the self-sacrifice of the people\nof the county. It is now liberally supported by the state; in 1908 its\nannual income was about $650,000. In 1908 the university had (at\nColumbia) 200 instructors and 2419 students, including 680 women;\nincluded in its library is the collection of the State Historical\nSociety. The School of Mines of the university is at Rolla, Mo.; all\nother departments are at Columbia. A normal department was established\nin 1867 and opened in 1868; and women were admitted to it in 1869. The\nCollege of Agriculture and Mechanic Arts became a department of the\nuniversity in 1870. The law department was opened in 1872, the medical\nin 1873, and the engineering in 1877. The graduate department was\nestablished in 1896, and in 1908 a department of journalism was\norganized. On the university campus in the quadrangle is the monument of\ngrey granite erected over the grave of Thomas Jefferson, designed after\nhis own plans, and bearing the famous inscription written by him. It was\ngiven to the university by descendants of Jefferson when Congress\nappropriated money for the monument now standing over his grave. Near\nthe city is the farm of the agricultural college and the experiment\nstation. At Columbia, also, are the Parker Memorial hospital, the\nTeachers College high school, the University Military Academy, the\nColumbia Business College, Christian College (Disciples) for women,\nestablished in 1851, its charter being the first granted by Missouri for\nthe collegiate education of Protestant women; the Bible College of the\nDisciples of Christ in Missouri; and Stephens College (under Baptist\ncontrol) for women, established in 1856. The municipality owns the\nwater-works and the electric lighting plant. Columbia was first settled\nabout 1821.\n\n\n\n\nCOLUMBIA, a borough of Lancaster county, Pennsylvania, U.S.A., on the W.\nbank of the Susquehanna river (here crossed by a long steel bridge),\nopposite Wrightsville and about 81 m. W. by N. of Philadelphia. Pop.\n(1890) 10,599; (1900) 12,316, of whom 772 were foreign-born; (1910)\n11,454. It is served by the Pennsylvania, the Philadelphia, Baltimore &\nWashington, the Philadelphia & Reading, and the Northern Central\nrailways, and by interurban electric railways. The river here is about a\nmile wide, and a considerable portion of the borough is built on the\n<DW72> of a hill which rises gently from the river-bank and overlooks\nbeautiful scenery. The Pennsylvania railway has repair shops here, and\namong Columbia's manufactures are silk goods, embroidery and laces, iron\nand steel pipe, engines, laundry machinery, brushes, stoves, iron toys,\numbrellas, flour, lumber and wagons; the city is also a busy shipping\nand trading centre. Columbia was first settled, by Quakers, in 1726; it\nwas laid out as a town in 1787; and in 1814 it was incorporated. In 1790\nit was one of several places considered in Congress for a permanent site\nof the national capital.\n\n\n\n\nCOLUMBIA, the capital city of South Carolina, U.S.A., and the\ncounty-seat of Richland county, on the E. bank of the Congaree river, a\nshort distance below the confluence of the Saluda and the Broad rivers,\nabout 130 m. N.W. of Charleston. Pop. (1890) 15,353; (19O0) 21,108, of\nwhom 9858 were <DW64>s; and (1910) 26,319. It is served by the Atlantic\nCoast Line, the Southern, the Seaboard Air Line, and the Columbia,\nNewberry & Laurens railways. Columbia is picturesquely situated on the\nlevel top of a bluff overlooking the Congaree, which falls about 36 ft.\nin passing by, but is navigable for the remainder of its course. The\nsurrounding country is devoted chiefly to cotton culture. The state\nhouse, United States government building and city hall are fine\nstructures. Some of the new business houses are ten or more storeys in\nheight. The state penitentiary and the state insane asylum are located\nhere, and Columbia is an important educational centre, being the seat of\nthe university of South Carolina, the Columbia College for women\n(Methodist Episcopal South, 1854), the College for women (Presbyterian,\n1890), and the Presbyterian Theological Seminary (1828); and the Allen\nUniversity (African Methodist Episcopal; coeducational, 1880), and the\nBenedict College (Baptist) for <DW64>s. The University of South\nCarolina, organized in 1801 and opened in 1805, was known as South\nCarolina College in 1805-1863, 1878-1887 and 1891-1906, and as the\nuniversity of South Carolina in 1866-1877, 1888-1891 and after 1906; in\n1907-1908 it had departments of arts, science, pedagogy and law, an\nenrolment of 285 students, and a faculty of 25 instructors. By means of\na canal abundant water power is furnished by the Congaree, and the city\nhas some of the largest cotton mills in the world; it has, besides,\nfoundries and machine shops and manufactories of fertilizers and\nhosiery. The manufactures under the factory system were valued at\n$3,133,903 in 1900 and at $4,676,944 in 1905--a gain, greater than that\nof any other city in the state, of 49.2% in five years. In the\nneighbourhood are several valuable granite quarries. The municipality\nowns and operates its water-works.\n\nWhile much of the site was still a forest the legislature, in 1786,\nchose it for the new capital. It was laid out in the same year, and in\n1790 the legislature first met here. Until 1805, when it was\nincorporated as a village, Columbia was under the direct government of\nthe legislature; in 1854 it was chartered as a city. On the morning of\nthe 17th of February 1865 General W. T. Sherman, on his march through\nthe Carolinas, entered Columbia, and on the ensuing night a fire broke\nout which was not extinguished until most of the city was destroyed. The\nresponsibility for this fire was charged by the Confederates upon the\nFederals and by the Federals upon the Confederates.\n\n\n\n\nCOLUMBIA, a city and the county-seat of Maury county, Tennessee, U.S.A.,\nsituated on the Duck river, in the central part of the state, 46 m. S.\nof Nashville. Pop. (1890) 5370; (1900) 6052 (2716 <DW64>s); (1910) 5754.\nColumbia is served by the Louisville & Nashville, and the Nashville,\nChattanooga & St Louis railways. It is the seat of the Columbia\nInstitute for girls (under Protestant Episcopal control), founded in\n1836, and of the Columbia Military Academy. Columbia is in a fine\nfarming region; is engaged extensively in the mining and shipping of\nphosphates; has an important trade in live-stock, especially mules;\nmanufactures cotton, lumber, flour, bricks, pumps and woollen goods; and\nhas marble and stone works. Columbia was settled about 1807 and was\nincorporated in 1822. During the Civil War it was the base from which\nGeneral N. B. Forrest operated in 1862-1863, and was alternately\noccupied by Confederate and Federal forces during General Hood's\nNashville campaign (November-December 1864).\n\n\n\n\nCOLUMBIA RIVER, a stream of the north-west United States and south-west\nCanada, about 939 m. in length, draining a basin of about 250,000 sq.\nm., of which 38,395 are in British Columbia; some 105,000 sq. m. belong\nto the valley of the Snake and 11,700 to that of the Willamette. The\nsource of the river is partly in the Yellowstone country, partly near\nthe Titon peaks, and partly in the pine-clad mountains of British\nColumbia. Some American geographers regard the head as that of the Clark\nFork, but it is most generally taken to be in British Columbia about 80\nm. north of the United States line. From this point it runs some 150 m.\nto the north-west to the \"Big Bend,\" and then in a great curve\nsouthward, enclosing the superb ranges of the Selkirks, crossing the\ninternational line near the boundary of Washington and Idaho, where it\nis joined by the Pend Oreille river, or Clark Fork, already referred to.\nThis latter river rises in the Rocky Mountains west of Helena, Montana,\nfalls with a heavy <DW72> (1323 ft. in 167 m.) to its confluence with the\nFlathead, flows through Lake Pend Oreille (27 m.) in northern Idaho, and\nruns in deep canyons (falling 900 ft. in 200 m.) to its junction with\nthe Columbia, which from this point continues almost due south for more\nthan 106 m. Here the Columbia is joined by the Spokane, a large river\nwith heavy fall, and enters the \"Great Plain of the Columbia,\" an area\nof some 22,000 sq. m., resembling the \"parks\" of Colorado, shut in on\nall sides by mountains: the Moses range to the north, the Bitter Root\nand Coeur d'Alene on the east, the Blue on the south, and the Cascades\non the west. The soil is rich, yielding great harvests of grain, and the\nmountains rich in minerals as yet only slightly prospected. After\nbreaking into this basin the river turns sharply to the west and skirts\nthe northern mountain barrier for about 105 m. Where it strikes the\nconfines of the Cascades, it is joined by the Okanogan, turns due south\nin the second Big Bend, and flows about 200 m. to its junction with the\nSnake near Wallula.\n\nAfter the confluence of the Snake with the Columbia the greater river\nturns west toward the Pacific. Throughout its course to this point it\nmay be said that the Columbia has no flood plain; everywhere it is\ncutting its bed; almost everywhere it is characterized by canyons,\nalthough above the Spokane the valley is much broken down and there is\nconsiderable timbered and fertile bench land. Below the Spokane the\ncanyon becomes more steep and rugged. From the mouth of the Okanogan to\nPriests Rapids extends a superb canyon, with precipitous walls of black\ncolumnar basalt 1000 to 3000 ft. in height. The finest portion is below\nthe Rock Island Rapids. In this part of its course, along the Cascade\nrange in the Great Plain and at its passage of the range westward,\nrapids and cascades particularly obstruct the imperfectly opened bed. In\nthe lower Columbia, navigation is first interrupted 160 m. from the\nmouth at the Cascades, a narrow gorge across the Cascade range 4.5 m.\nlong, where the river falls 24 ft. in 2500; the rapids are evaded by a\ncanal constructed (1878-1896) by the Federal government, and by a\nportage railway (1890-1891). Fifty-three miles above this are the\nDalles, a series of falls, rapids and rock obstructions extending some\n12 m. and ending at Celilo, 115m. below Wallula, with a fall of 20 ft.\nThere are also impediments just below the mouth of the Snake; others in\nthe lower course of this river below Riparia; and almost continuous\nobstructions in the Columbia above Priests Rapids. The commerce of the\nColumbia is very important, especially that from Portland, Vancouver,\nAstoria, and other outlets of the Willamette valley and the lower\nColumbia. The grain region of the Great Plain, the bottom-land orchards\nand grain field on the plateaus of the Snake, have not since 1880 been\ndependent upon the water navigation for freighting, but in their\ninterest costly attempts have been made to open the river below the\nSnake uninterruptedly to commerce.\n\nThe Columbia is one of the greatest salmon streams of the world (see\nOREGON). The tonnage of deep-sea vessels in and out over the bar at the\nriver's mouth from 1890-1899 was 9,423,637 tons. From 1872-1899 the\nUnited States government expended for improvement of the Snake and\nColumbia $6,925,649. The mouth of the latter is the only deep-water\nharbour between San Francisco and Cape Flattery (700 m.), and the only\nfresh water harbour of the Pacific coast. To facilitate its entrance,\nwhich, owing to bars, tides, winds, and the great discharge of the\nriver, has always been difficult, a great jetty has been constructed\n(1885-1895, later enlarged) to scour the bars. It was about 4.5 miles\nlong, and in 1903 work was begun to make it 2.5 miles longer. The tides\nare perceptible 150 m. above the mouth (mean tide at Astoria _c._ 6.2\nft.), the average tidal flow at the mouth being about 1,000,000 cub. ft.\nper second; while the fresh water outflow is from 90,000 to 300,000 cub.\nft. according to the stage of water, and as high as 1,000,000 cub. ft.\nin time of flood. Improvements were undertaken by the Federal government\nand a state commission in 1902 in order to secure a 25-ft. channel from\nPortland to the sea.\n\nIn 1792, and possibly also in 1788, the river mouth was entered by\nCaptain Robert Gray (1755-1806) of Boston, Mass., who named the river\nafter his own vessel, \"Columbia,\" which name has wholly supplanted the\nearlier name, \"Oregon.\" In 1804-1805 the river was explored by\nMeriwether Lewis and William Clark. Upon these discoveries the United\nStates primarily based its claim to the territory now embraced in the\nstates of Oregon and Washington.\n\n\n\n\nCOLUMBIA UNIVERSITY, one of the oldest and most important of the higher\ninstitutions of learning in the United States, located for the most part\non Morningside Heights, New York city. It embraces Columbia College,\nfounded as King's College in 1754; a school of medicine (the College of\nPhysicians and Surgeons) founded in 1767, in West 59th Street; a school\nof law, founded in 1858; schools of applied science, including a school\nof mines and schools of chemistry and engineering, separately organized\nin 1896; a school of architecture, organized in 1881; graduate schools\nof political science, organized in 1880, philosophy, organized in 1890,\nand pure science, organized in 1892; and a school of journalism; closely\naffiliated with it are the College of Pharmacy, founded in 1829, in West\n68th Street; Teachers' College, founded in 1886, as the New York College\nfor the Training of Teachers, and essentially a part of the university\nsince 1899; and Barnard College (for women) founded in 1889, and\nessentially a part of the university since 1900. Reciprocal relations\nalso exist between the university and both the General Theological\nSeminary of the Protestant Episcopal Church and the Union Theological\nSeminary, thus practically adding to the university a theological\ndepartment. Columbia also nominates the American professors who lecture\nat German universities by the reciprocal arrangement made in 1905, the\nGerman professors lecturing in America being nominated by the Prussian\nministry of education. Women are now admitted to all the university\ncourses except those in law, medicine, technology and architecture.\nSince 1900 a summer session has been held for six weeks and attended\nlargely by teachers. Teachers and others, under the direction of the\nTeachers' College, are afforded an opportunity to pursue courses _in\nabsentia_ and so meet some of the requirements for an academic degree or\na teacher's diploma. All students of good ability are enabled to\ncomplete the requirements for the bachelor's degree together with any\none of the professional degrees by six years of study at the university.\nSeveral courses of lectures designed especially for the public--notably\nthe Hewitt Lectures, in co-operation with Cooper Union--are delivered at\ndifferent places in the city and at the university.\n\nIn 1908 there were in Columbia University in all departments 609\ninstructors and 4096 students; of these 420 were in Barnard College, 850\nwere in the Teachers' College, and 229 were in the College of Pharmacy.\nThe numerous University publications include works embodying the\nresults of original research published by the University Press;\n\"Studies\" published in the form of a series by each of several\ndepartments, various periodicals edited by some members of the faculty,\nsuch as the _Columbia University Quarterly_, the _Political Science\nQuarterly_, and the _School of Mines Quarterly_; and several papers or\nperiodicals published by the students, among which are the _Columbia\nSpectator_, a daily paper, the _Columbia Law Review_, the _Columbia\nMonthly_ and the _Columbia Jester_.\n\nWith two or three unimportant exceptions the buildings of the university\non Morningside Heights have been erected since 1896. They include,\nbesides the several department buildings, a library building, a\nuniversity hall (with gymnasium), Earl Hall (for social purposes), St\nPaul's chapel (dedicated in 1907), two residence halls for men, and one\nfor women. The library contains about 450,000 volumes exclusive of\nduplicates and unbound pamphlets. The highest authority in the\ngovernment of the institution is vested in a board of twenty-four\ntrustees, vacancies in which are filled by co-optation; but the\nimmediate educational interests are directed largely by the members of\nthe university council, which is composed of the president of the\nuniversity, the dean and one other representative from the faculty of\neach school. The institution is maintained by the proceeds from an\nendowment fund exceeding $15,000,000, by tuition fees ranging, according\nto the school, from $150 to $250 for each student, and by occasional\ngifts for particular objects.\n\nThe charter (1754) providing for the establishment of King's College was\nso free from narrow sectarianism as to name ministers of five different\ndenominations for ex-officio governors, and the purpose of the\ninstitution as set forth by its first president, Dr Samuel Johnson\n(1696-1772) was about as broad as that now realised. In 1756 the\nerection of the first building was begun at the lower end of Manhattan\nIsland, near the Hudson, and the institution prospered from the\nbeginning. From 1776 to 1784, during the War of Independence, the\nexercises of the college were suspended and the library and apparatus\nwere stored in the New York city hall. In 1784 the name was changed to\nColumbia College, and an act of the legislature was passed for creating\na state university, of which Columbia was to be the basis. But the plan\nwas not a success, and three years later, in 1787, the act was repealed\nand the administration of Columbia was entrusted to a board of trustees\nof which the present board is a successor. In 1857 there was an\nextensive re-organization by which the scope of the institution was much\nenlarged, and at the same time it was removed to a new site on Madison\nAvenue between 49th and 50th Streets. From 1890 to 1895 much\ncentralization in its administration was effected, in 1896 the name of\nColumbia University was adopted, and in the autumn of 1897 the old site\nand buildings were again abandoned for new, this time on Morningside\nHeights.\n\n  See _A History of Columbia University_, by members of the faculty (New\n  York, 1904); and J. B. Pine, \"King's College, now Columbia\n  University,\" in _Historic New York_ (New York, 1897).\n\n\n\n\nCOLUMBINE (Ital. _columbina_, from _columba_, a dove), in pantomime\n(q.v.) the fairy-like dancer who is courted by Harlequin. In the\nmedieval Italian popular comedy she was Harlequin's daughter.\n\n\n\n\nCOLUMBINE, an erect perennial herbaceous plant known botanically as\n_Aquilegia vulgaris_ (natural order Ranunculaceae). In Med. Latin it was\nknown as _Columbina sc. herba_, the dove's plant. The slender stem bears\ndelicate, long-stalked, deeply divided leaves with blunt segments, and a\nloose panicle of handsome drooping blue or white flowers, which are\ncharacterized by having all the five petals spurred. The plant occurs\nwild in woods and thickets in England and Ireland, and flowers in early\nsummer. It is well known in cultivation as a favourite spring flower, in\nmany varieties, some of which have red flowers.\n\n\n\n\nCOLUMBITE, a rare mineral consisting of iron niobate, FeNb2O6, in\nwhich the iron and niobium are replaced by varying amounts of manganese\nand tantalum respectively, the general formula being (Fe, Mn) (Nb,\nTa)2O6. It was in this mineral that Charles Hatchett discovered,\nin 1801, the element niobium, which he himself called columbium after\nthe country (Columbia or America) whence came the specimen in the\nBritish Museum collection which he examined. The species has also been\ncalled niobite. It crystallizes in the orthorhombic system, and the\nblack, opaque crystals are often very brilliant with a sub-metallic\nlustre. Twinned crystals are not uncommon, and there is a distinct\ncleavage parallel to the face marked _b_ in the figure. Hardness 6;\nspecific gravity 5.3. With increasing amount of tantalum the specific\ngravity increases up to 7.3, and members at this end of the series are\nknown as tantalite (FeTa2O6). Specimens in which the iron is\nlargely replaced by manganese are known as manganocolumbite or\nmanganotantalite, according as they contain more niobium or more\ntantalum. Columbite occurs as crystals and compact masses in granite and\npegmatite at Rabenstein in Lower Bavaria, the Ilmen Mountains in the\nUrals, Haddam in Connecticut, and several other localities in the United\nStates; also in the cryolite of Greenland. Tantalite is from Finland,\nand it has recently been found in some abundance in the deposits of\ncassiterite in the tin-field of Greenbushes in the Blackwood district,\nWestern Australia.\n\n[Illustration: Crystal of Columbite.]\n\nDimorphous with columbite and tantalite are the tetragonal minerals\ntapiolite (= skogbolite) and mossite, so that the four form an\nisodimorphous group with the general formula (Fe, Mn) (Nb, Ta)2O6.\nMossite is from a pegmatite vein near Moss in Norway, and tapiolite is\nfrom Finland. All these minerals contain tin in small amount.\n     (L. J. S.)\n\n\n\n\nCOLUMBIUM, or NIOBIUM (symbol Cb or Nb, atomic weight 94), one of the\nmetallic elements of the nitrogen group, first detected in 1801 by C.\nHatchett in a specimen of columbite (niobite) from Massachusetts (_Phil.\nTrans._ 1802, 49). It is usually found associated with tantalum, the\nchief minerals containing these two elements being tantalite, columbite,\nfergusonite and yttrotantalite; it is also a constituent of pyrochlor,\neuxenite and samarskite. Columbium compounds are usually prepared by\nfusing columbite with an excess of acid potassium sulphate, boiling out\nthe fused mass with much water, and removing tin and tungsten from the\nresidue by digestion with ammonium sulphide, any iron present being\nsimultaneously converted into ferrous sulphide. The residue is washed,\nextracted by dilute hydrochloric acid, and again well washed with\nboiling water. It is then dissolved in hydrofluoric acid and heated in\norder to expel silicon fluoride; finally the columbium, tantalum and\ntitanium fluorides are separated by the different solubilities of their\ndouble fluorides (C. Marignac, _Ann. chim. et phys._ 1866 [4], 8, p. 63;\n1868, 13, p. 28; see also W. Gibbs, _Jahresb._ 1864, p. 685; R. D. Hall\nand E. F. Smith, _Proc. Amer. Philos. Soc._ 1905, 44, p. 177).\n\nThe metal was first obtained by C. W. Blomstrand (_Journ. prak. Chem._\n1866, 97, p. 37) by reducing the chloride with hydrogen; it has more\nrecently been prepared by H. Moissan by reducing the oxide with carbon\nin the electric furnace (the product obtained always contains from 2-3%\nof combined carbon), and by H. Goldschmidt and C. Vautin (_Journ. Soc.\nChem. Industry_, 1898, 19, p. 543) by reducing the oxide with aluminium\npowder. As obtained by the reduction of the chloride, it is a steel grey\npowder of specific gravity 7.06. It burns on heating in air; and is\nscarcely attacked by hydrochloric or nitric acids, or by _aqua regia_;\nit is soluble in warm concentrated sulphuric acid.\n\n  _Columbium hydride_, CbH, is obtained as a greyish metallic powder,\n  when the double fluoride, CbF5, 2KF, is reduced with sodium. It\n  burns when heated in air, and is soluble in warm concentrated\n  sulphuric acid. Three oxides of columbium are certainly known, namely\n  the _dioxide_, Cb2O2, the _tetroxide_, Cb2O4, and the\n  _pentoxide_, Cb2O5, whilst a fourth oxide, _columbium trioxide_,\n  Cb2O3, has been described by E. F. Smith and P. Maas (_Zeit. f.\n  anorg. Chem._ 1894, 7, p. 97). _Columbium dioxide_, Cb2O2, is\n  formed when dry potassium columbium oxyfluoride is reduced by sodium\n  (H. Rose, _Pogg. Ann._ 1858, 104, p. 312). It burns readily in air,\n  and is converted into the pentoxide when fused with acid potassium\n  sulphate. _Columbium_ _tetroxide_, Cb2O4 is obtained as a black\n  powder when the pentoxide is heated to a high temperature in a current\n  of hydrogen. It is unattacked by acids. _Columbium pentoxide_\n  (columbic acid), Cb2O5, is obtained from columbite, after the\n  removal of tantalum (see above). The mother liquors are concentrated,\n  and the double salt of composition 2KF.CbOF3.H2O, which\n  separates, is decomposed by sulphuric acid, or by continued boiling\n  with water (C. Marignac; see also G. Kruss and L. F. Nilson, _Ber._\n  1887, 20, p. 1676). It is a white amorphous infusible powder, which\n  when strongly heated in sulphuretted hydrogen, yields an oxysulphide.\n  Several hydrated forms are known, yielding salts known as\n  _columbates_. A _percolumbic acid_, HCbO4.nH2O, has been\n  prepared by P. Melikoff and L. Pissarjewsky (_Zeit. f. anorg. Chem._\n  1899, 20, p. 341), as a yellow amorphous powder by the action of\n  dilute sulphuric acid on the potassium salt, which is formed when\n  columbic acid is fused in a silver crucible with eight times its\n  weight of caustic potash (_loc. cit._). Salts of the acid H3CbO8\n  have been described by C. W. Balke and E. F. Smith (_Jour. Amer. Chem.\n  Soc._ 1908, 30, p. 1637).\n\n  _Columbium trichloride_, CbCl3, is obtained in needles or crystalline\n  crusts, when the vapour of the pentachloride is slowly passed through\n  a red-hot tube. When heated in a current of carbon dioxide it forms\n  the oxychloride CbOCl3, and carbon monoxide. _Columbium\n  pentachloride_, CbCl5, is obtained in yellow needles when a mixture of\n  the pentoxide and sugar charcoal is heated in a current of air-free\n  chlorine. It melts at 194 deg. C. (H. Deville) and boils at 240.5 deg.\n  C. It is decomposed by water, and dissolves in hydrochloric acid.\n  _Columbium oxychloride_, CbOCl3, is formed when carbon tetrachloride,\n  and columbic acid are heated together at 440 deg. C.: 3CCl4 + Cb2O5 =\n  2CbOCl3 + 3COCl2, and also by distilling the pentachloride, in a\n  current of carbon dioxide, over ignited columbic acid. It forms a\n  white silky mass which volatilizes at about 400 deg. C. It deliquesces\n  in moist air, and is decomposed violently by water. _Columbium\n  pentafluoride_, CbF5, is obtained when the pentoxide is dissolved in\n  hydrofluoric acid. It is only known in solution; evaporation of the\n  solution yields the pentoxide. The _oxyfluoride_, CbOF3, results when\n  a mixture of the pentoxide and fluorspar is heated in a current of\n  hydrochloric acid. It forms many double salts with other metallic\n  fluorides.\n\n  _Columbium oxysulphide_, CbOS3, is obtained as a dark bronze \n  powder when the pentoxide is heated to a white heat in a current of\n  carbon bisulphide vapour; or by gently heating the oxychloride in a\n  current of sulphuretted hydrogen. It burns when heated in air, forming\n  the pentoxide and sulphur dioxide.\n\n  _Columbium nitride_, Cb3N5 (?), is formed when dry ammonia gas is\n  passed into an ethereal solution of the chloride. A heavy white\n  precipitate, consisting of ammonium chloride and columbium nitride, is\n  thrown down, and the ammonium chloride is removed by washing it out\n  with hot water, when the columbium nitride remains as an amorphous\n  residue (Hall and Smith, _loc. cit._).\n\n  _Potassium fluoxy percolumbate_, K2CbO2F5.H2O, is prepared by\n  dissolving potassium columbium oxyfluoride in a 3% solution of\n  hydrogen peroxide. The solution turns yellow in colour, and, when\n  saturated, deposits a pasty mass of crystals. The salt separates from\n  solutions containing hydrofluoric acid in large plates, which are\n  greenish yellow in colour.\n\n  The atomic weight was determined by C. Marignac (_Ann. chim. et phys._\n  1866 (4), 8, p. 16) to be 94 from the analysis of potassium columbium\n  oxyfluoride, and the same value has been obtained by T. W. Richards\n  (_Journ. Amer. Chem. Soc._ 1898, 20, p. 543).\n\n\n\n\nCOLUMBUS, CHRISTOPHER [in Spanish CRISTOBAL COLON] (c. 1446, or perhaps\nrather 1451,-1506) was the eldest son of Domenico Colombo and Suzanna\nFontanarossa, and was born at Genoa either about 1446 or in 1451, the\nexact date being uncertain. His father was a wool-comber, of some small\nmeans, who lived till 1498. According to the life of Columbus by his son\nFerdinand (a statement supported by Las Casas), young Christopher was\nsent to the university of Pavia, where he devoted himself to astronomy,\ngeometry and cosmography. Yet, according to the admiral's own statement,\nhe became a sailor at fourteen. Evidently this statement, however,\ncannot mean the abandonment of all other employment, for in 1470, 1472,\nand 1473 we find him engaged in trade at Genoa, following the family\nbusiness of weaving, and (in 1473) residing at the neighbouring Savona.\nIn 1474-1475 he appears to have visited Chios, where he may have resided\nsome time, returning to Genoa perhaps early in 1476. Thence he seems to\nhave again set out on a voyage in the summer of 1476, perhaps bound for\nEngland; on the 13th of August 1476, the four Genoese vessels he\naccompanied were attacked off Cape St Vincent by a privateer, one\nGuillaume de Casenove, surnamed Coullon or Colombo (\"Columbus\"); two of\nthe four ships escaped, with Christopher, to Lisbon. In December 1476,\nthe latter resumed their voyage to England, probably carrying with them\nColumbus, who, after a short stay in England, claims to have made a\nvoyage in the northern seas, and even to have visited Iceland about\nFebruary 1477. This last pretension is gravely disputed, but it is\nperhaps not to be rejected, and we may also trace the Genoese about this\ntime at Bristol, at Galway, and probably among the islands west and\nnorth of Scotland. Soon after this he returned to Portugal, where\n(probably in 1478) he married a lady of some rank, Felipa Moniz de\nPerestrello, daughter of Bartholomew Perestrello, a captain in the\nservice of Prince Henry the Navigator, and one of the early colonists\nand first governor of Porto Santo. Felipa was also a cousin of the\narchbishop of Lisbon at this time (1478).\n\n\n  Idea of western passage to Asia.\n\nAbout 1479 Columbus visited Porto Santo, here as in Portugal probably\nemploying his time in making maps and charts for a livelihood, while he\npored over the logs and papers of his deceased father-in-law, and talked\nwith old seamen of their voyages, and of the mystery of the western\nseas. About this time, too, if not earlier, he seems to have arrived at\nthe conclusion that much of the world remained undiscovered, and step by\nstep conceived that design of reaching Asia by sailing west which was to\nresult in the discovery of America. In 1474 he is said to have\ncorresponded with Paolo Toscanelli, the Florentine physician and\ncosmographer, and to have received from him valuable suggestions, both\nby map and letter, for such a Western enterprise. (The whole of this\nincident has been disputed by some recent critics.) He had perhaps\nalready begun his studies in a number of works, especially the _Book_ of\nMarco Polo and the _Imago Mundi_ of Pierre d'Ailly, by which his\ncosmographical and geographical conceptions were largely moulded. His\nviews, as finally developed and presented to the courts of Portugal and\nSpain, were supported by three principal lines of argument, derived from\nnatural reasons, from the theories of geographers, and from the reports\nand traditions of mariners. He believed the world to be a sphere; he\nunderestimated its size; he overestimated the size of the Asiatic\ncontinent. And the farther that continent extended towards the east, the\nnearer it came towards Spain. Nor were these theories the only supports\nof his idea. Martin Vicente, a Portuguese pilot, was said to have found,\n400 leagues to the westward of Cape St Vincent, and after a westerly\ngale of many days' duration, a piece of strange wood, wrought, but not\nwith iron; Pedro Correa, Columbus's own brother-in-law, was said to have\nseen another such waif at Porto Santo, with great canes capable of\nholding four quarts of wine between joint and joint, and to have heard\nof two men being washed up at Flores \"very broad-faced, and differing in\naspect from Christians.\" West of Europe, now and then, men fancied there\nhove in sight the mysterious islands of St Brandan, of Brazil, of\nAntillia or of the Seven Cities. In his northern journey, too, some\nvague and formless traditions may have reached the explorer's ear of the\nvoyages of Leif Ericson and Thorfinn Karlsefne, and of the coasts of\nMarkland and Vinland. All were hints and rumours to bid the bold mariner\nsail towards the setting sun, and this he at length determined to do.\n\n\n  Quest of a patron.\n\nThe concurrence of some state or sovereign, however, was necessary for\nthe success of this design. Columbus, on the accession of John II. of\nPortugal, seems to have entered the service of this country, to have\naccompanied Diego d'Azambuja to the Gold Coast, and to have taken part\nin the construction of the famous fort of St George at El Mina\n(1481-1482). On his return from this expedition, he submitted to King\nJohn the scheme he had now matured for reaching Asia by a western route\nacross the ocean. The king was deeply interested in the rival scheme (of\nan eastern or south-eastern route round Africa to India) which had so\nlong held the field, which had been initiated by the Genoese in 1291,\nand which had been revived, for Portugal, by Prince Henry the Navigator;\nbut he listened to the Genoese, and referred him to a committee of\ncouncil for geographical affairs. The council's report was adverse; but\nthe king, who was yet inclined to favour the theory of Columbus,\nassented to the suggestion of the bishop of Ceuta that the plan should\nbe carried out in secret and without its author's knowledge. A caravel\nwas despatched; but it returned after a brief absence, the sailors\nhaving lost heart, and refused to venture farther. Upon discovering\nthis treachery, Columbus left Lisbon for Spain (1484), taking with him\nhis son Diego, the only issue of his marriage with Felipa Moniz, who was\nby this time dead. He departed secretly;--according to some writers, to\ngive the slip to King John; according to others, to escape his\ncreditors.\n\nColumbus next betook himself to the south of Spain, and while meditating\nan appeal to the king of France, opened his plans to the count (from\n1491, duke) of Medina Celi. The latter gave him great encouragement,\nentertained him for two years, and even determined to furnish him with\nthree or four caravels, to carry out his great design. Finally, however,\nbeing deterred by the consideration that the enterprise was too vast for\na subject, he turned his guest from the determination he had come to of\nmaking application at the court of France, by writing on his behalf to\nQueen Isabella; and Columbus repaired to the court at Cordova at her\nbidding (1486).\n\nIt was an ill moment for the navigator's fortune. Castile and Leon were\nin the thick of that struggle which resulted in the final conquest of\nthe Granada Moors; and neither Ferdinand nor Isabella had time as yet to\ngive due consideration to Columbus' proposals. The adventurer was indeed\nkindly received; he was handed over to the care of Alonso de\nQuintanilla, whom he speedily converted into an enthusiastic supporter\nof his theory. He made many other friends, and among them Beatriz\nEnriquez, the mother of his second son Fernando. But the committee,\npresided over by the queen's confessor, Fray Hernando de Talavera, which\nhad been appointed to consider the new project, reported that it was\nvain and impracticable.\n\nFrom Cordova Columbus followed the court to Salamanca, having already\nbeen introduced by Quintanilla to the notice of the grand cardinal,\nPedro Gonzalez de Mendoza, \"the third king of Spain\"; the latter had\nbefriended and supported the Genoese, and apparently arranged the first\ninterview between him and Queen Isabella. At Salamanca prolonged\ndiscussions took place upon the questions now raised; the Dominicans of\nSan Esteban entertained Columbus during the conferences (1486-1487). In\n1487 Columbus, who had been following the court from place to place\n(billeted in towns as an officer of the sovereigns, and gratified from\ntime to time with sums of money towards his expenses), was present at\nthe siege of Malaga. In 1488 he was invited by the king of Portugal, his\n\"especial friend,\" to return to that country, and was assured of\nprotection against arrest or proceedings of any kind (March 20): he had\nprobably made fresh overtures to King John shortly before; and in the\nautumn of 1488 we find him in Lisbon, conferring with his brother\nBartholomew and laying plans for the future. We have no record of the\nfinal negotiations of Columbus with the Portuguese government, but they\nclearly did not issue in anything definite, for Christopher now returned\nto Spain (though not till he had witnessed the return of Bartholomew\nDiaz from the discovery of the Cape of Good Hope and his reception by\nKing John), while Bartholomew proceeded to England with a mission to\ninterest King Henry VII. in the Columbian schemes. If the London\nenterprise was unsuccessful (as indeed it proved), it was settled that\nBartholomew should carry the same invitation to the French court. He did\nso; and here he remained till summoned to Spain in 1493. Meantime\nChristopher, unable throughout 1490 to get a hearing at the Spanish\ncourt, was in 1491 again referred to a _junta_, presided over by\nCardinal Mendoza; but this _junta_, to Columbus' dismay, once more\nrejected his proposals; the Spanish sovereigns merely promised him that\nwhen the Granada war was over, they would reconsider what he had laid\nbefore them.\n\nColumbus was now in despair. He at once betook himself to Huelva, a\nlittle maritime town in Andalusia, north-west of Cadiz, with the\nintention of taking ship for France. He halted, however, at the\nmonastery of La Rabida, near Huelva, and still nearer Palos, where he\nseems to have made lasting friendships on his first arrival in Spain in\nJanuary 1485, where he especially enlisted the support of Juan Perez,\nthe guardian, who invited him to take up his quarters in the monastery,\nand introduced him to Garcia Fernandez, a physician and student of\ngeography. Juan Perez had been the queen's confessor; he now wrote to\nher in urgent terms, and was summoned to her presence; and money was\nsent to Columbus to bring him once more to court. He reached Granada in\ntime to witness the surrender of the city (January 2, 1492), and\nnegotiations were resumed. Columbus believed in his mission, and stood\nout for high terms; he asked for the rank of admiral at once (\"Admiral\nof the Ocean\" in all those islands, seas, and continents that he might\ndiscover), the vice-royalty of all he should discover, and a tenth of\nthe precious metals discovered within his admiralty. These conditions\nwere rejected, and the negotiations were again interrupted. An interview\nwith Mendoza appears to have followed; but nothing came of it, and\nbefore the close of January 1492, Columbus actually set out for France.\nAt length, however, on the entreaty of the Queen's confidante, the\nMarquesa de Moya, of Luis de Santangel, receiver of the ecclesiastical\nrevenues of the crown of Aragon, and of other courtiers, Isabella was\ninduced to determine on the expedition. A messenger was sent after\nColumbus, and overtook him near a bridge called \"Pinos,\" 6 m. from\nGranada. He returned to the camp at Santa Fe; and on the 17th of April\n1492, the agreement between him and their Catholic majesties was signed\nand sealed.\n\nAs his aims included not only the discovery of Cipangu or Japan, but\nalso the opening up of intercourse with the grand khan of Cathay, he\nreceived a royal letter of introduction to the latter. The town of Palos\nwas ordered to find him two ships, and these were soon placed at his\ndisposal. But no crews could be got together, in spite of the indemnity\noffered to criminals and \"broken men\" who would serve on the expedition;\nand had not Juan Perez succeeded in interesting in the cause the Palos\n\"magnates\" Martin Alonso Pinzon and Vicente Yanez Pinzon, Columbus'\ndeparture had been long delayed. At last, however, men, ships and stores\nwere ready. The expedition consisted of the \"Santa Maria,\" a decked ship\nof 100 tons with a crew of 52 men, commanded by the admiral in person;\nand of two caravels; the \"Pinta\" of 50 tons, with 18 men, under Martin\nPinzon; and the \"Nina,\" of 40 tons, with 18 men, under his brother\nVicente Yanez, afterwards (1499) the first to cross the line in the\nAmerican Atlantic.\n\n\n  First voyage.\n\n  America discovered.\n\nThe adventurers numbered 88-souls; and on Friday, the 3rd of August\n1492, at eight in the morning, the little fleet weighed anchor, and\nstood for the Canary Islands. An abstract of the admiral's diary made by\nLas Casas is yet extant; and from it many particulars may be gleaned\nconcerning this first voyage. Three days after the ships had set sail\nthe \"Pinta\" lost her rudder; the admiral was in some alarm, but\ncomforted himself with the reflection that Martin Pinzon was energetic\nand ready-witted; they had, however, to put in at Teneriffe, to refit\nthe caravel. On the 6th of September they weighed anchor once more with\nall haste, Columbus having been informed that three Portuguese caravels\nwere on the look-out to intercept him. On the 13th of September the\nwesterly variations of the magnetic needle were for the first time\nobserved; on the 15th a meteor fell into the sea at four or five leagues\ndistance; soon after they arrived at those vast plains of seaweed called\nthe Sargasso Sea; while all the time, writes the admiral, they had most\ntemperate breezes, the sweetness of the mornings being especially\ndelightful, the weather like an Andalusian April, and only the song of\nthe nightingale wanting. On the 17th the men began to murmur; they were\nfrightened by the strange phenomena of the variation of the compass, but\nthe explanation Columbus gave restored their tranquillity. On the 18th\nthey saw many birds, and a great ridge of low-lying cloud; and they\nexpected to see land. On the 20th they saw boobies and other birds, and\nwere sure the land must be near. In this, however, they were\ndisappointed; and thenceforth Columbus, who was keeping all the while a\ndouble reckoning, one for the crew and one for himself, had great\ndifficulty in restraining the evil-disposed from the excesses they\nmeditated. On the 25th Martin Alonso Pinzon raised the cry of land, but\nit proved false, as did the rumour to the same effect on the 7th of\nOctober, from the \"Nina.\" But on the 11th the \"Pinta\" fished up a cane,\na pole, a stick which appeared to have been wrought with iron, and a\nboard, while the \"Nina\" sighted a branch covered with berries; \"and with\nthese signs all of them breathed and were glad.\" At ten o'clock on that\nnight Columbus himself perceived and pointed out a light ahead, and at\ntwo in the morning of Friday, the 12th of October 1492, Rodrigo de\nTriana, a sailor aboard the \"Nina,\" announced the appearance of what\nproved to be the New World. The land sighted was an island, called by\nthe Indians Guanahani, and named by Columbus San Salvador. It is\ngenerally identified with Watling Island.\n\nThe same morning Columbus landed, richly clad, and bearing the royal\nbanner of Spain. He was accompanied by the brothers Pinzon, bearing\nbanners of the Green Cross (a device of the admiral's), and by great\npart of the crew. When they all had \"given thanks to God, kneeling upon\nthe shore, and kissed the ground with tears of joy, for the great mercy\nreceived,\" the admiral named the island, and took solemn possession of\nit for their Catholic majesties of Castile and Leon. At the same time\nsuch of the crews as had shown themselves doubtful and mutinous sought\nhis pardon weeping, and prostrated themselves at his feet.\n\nInto the remaining detail of this voyage, of highest interest as it is,\nit is impossible to go further. It will be enough to say that it\nresulted in the discovery of the islands of Santa Maria de la Concepcion\n(Rum Cay), Fernandina (Long Island), Isabella (Crooked Island), Cuba or\n_Juana_ (named by Columbus in honour of the young prince of Spain), and\nHispaniola, Haiti, or San Domingo. Off the last of these the \"Santa\nMaria\" went aground, owing to the carelessness of the steersman. No\nlives were lost, but the ship had to be unloaded and abandoned; and\nColumbus, who was anxious to return to Europe with the news of his\nachievement, resolved to plant a colony on the island, to build a fort\nout of the material of the stranded hulk, and to leave the crew. The\nfort was called La Navidad; 44 Europeans were placed in charge. On the\n4th of January 1493 Columbus, who had lost sight of Martin Pinzon, set\nsail alone in the \"Nina\" for the east; and two days afterwards the\n\"Pinta\" joined her sister-ship. A storm, however, separated the vessels,\nand it was not until the 18th of February that Columbus reached the\nisland of Santa Maria in the Azores. Here he was threatened with capture\nby the Portuguese governor, who could not for some time be brought to\nrecognize his commission. On the 24th of February, however, he was\nallowed to proceed, and on the 4th of March the \"Nina\" dropped anchor\noff Lisbon. The king of Portugal received the admiral with the highest\nhonours. On the 13th of March the \"Nina\" put out from the Tagus, and two\ndays afterwards, Friday, the 15th of March, she reached Palos.\n\nThe court was at Barcelona; and thither, after despatching a letter\nannouncing his arrival, Columbus proceeded in person. He entered the\ncity in a sort of triumphal procession, was received by their majesties\nin full court, and, seated in their presence, related the story of his\nwanderings, exhibiting the \"rich and strange\" spoils of the new-found\nlands,--the gold, the cotton, the parrots, the curious arms, the\nmysterious plants, the unknown birds and beasts, and the Indians he had\nbrought with him for baptism. All his honours and privileges were\nconfirmed to him; the title of Don was conferred on himself and his\nbrothers; he rode at the king's bridle; he was served and saluted as a\ngrandee of Spain. A new and magnificent scutcheon was also blazoned for\nhim (4th May 1493), whereon the royal castle and lion of Castile and\nLeon were combined with the five anchors of his own coat of arms. Nor\nwere their Catholic highnesses less busy on their own account than on\nthat of their servant. On the 3rd and 4th of May Alexander VI. granted\nbulls confirming to the crowns of Castile and Leon all the lands\ndiscovered, or to be discovered, west of a line of demarcation drawn 100\nleagues west of the Azores, on the same terms as those on which the\nPortuguese held their colonies along the African coast. A new expedition\nwas got in readiness with all possible despatch, to secure and extend\nthe discoveries already made.\n\n\n  Second voyage.\n\nAfter several delays the fleet weighed anchor on the 24th of September\n1493 and steered westwards. It consisted of three great carracks\n(galleons) and fourteen caravels (light frigates), having on board over\n1500 men, besides the animals and materials necessary for colonization.\nTwelve missionaries accompanied the expedition, under the orders of\nBernardo Buil or Boil, a Benedictine; Columbus had been already directed\n(29th May 1493) to endeavour by all means in his power to Christianize\nthe inhabitants of the islands, to make them presents, and to \"honour\nthem much\", while all under him were commanded to treat them \"well and\nlovingly,\" under pain of severe punishment. On the 13th of October the\nships, which had put in at the Canaries, left Ferro; and on Sunday, the\n3rd of November, after a single storm, \"by the goodness of God and the\nwise management of the admiral\" an island was sighted to the west, which\nwas named Dominica. Northwards from this the isles of Marigalante and\nGuadalupe were next discovered and named; while on the north-western\ncourse to La Navidad those of Montserrat, Antigua, San Martin, Santa\nCruz and the Virgin Islands were sighted, and the island now called\nPorto Rico was touched at, hurriedly explored, and named San Juan\nBautista. On the 22nd of November Columbus came in sight of Hispaniola,\nand sailing westward to La Navidad, found the fort burned and the colony\ndispersed. He decided on building a second fort, and coasting on 30 m.\neast of Monte Cristi, he pitched on a spot where he founded the city of\nIsabella.\n\nThe climate proved unhealthy; the colonists were greedy of gold,\nimpatient of control, proud, ignorant and mutinous; and Columbus, whose\ninclination drew him westward, was doubtless glad to escape the worry\nand anxiety of his post, and to avail himself of the instructions of his\nsovereigns as to further discoveries. On the 2nd of February 1494 he\nsent home, by Antonio de Torres, that despatch to their Catholic\nhighnesses by which he may be said to have founded the West Indian slave\ntrade. He established the mining camp of San Tomaso in the gold country\nof Central Hispaniola; and on the 24th of April 1494, having nominated a\ncouncil of regency under his brother Diego, and appointed Pedro Margarit\nhis captain-general, he again put to sea. After following the southern\nshore of Cuba for some days, he steered southwards, and discovered (May\n14th) the island of Jamaica, which he named Santiago. He then resumed\nhis exploration of the Cuban coast, threaded his way through a labyrinth\nof islets which he named the Garden of the Queen (Jardin de la Reyna),\nand, after coasting westwards for many days, became convinced that he\nhad discovered continental land. He therefore caused Perez de Luna, the\nnotary, to draw up a document to this effect (12th of June 1494), which\nwas afterwards taken round and signed (the admiral's steward witnessing)\nby the officers, men and boys of his three caravels, the \"Nina,\" the\n\"Cordera,\" and the \"San Juan.\" He then stood to the south-east, and\nsighted the island of Evangelista (now Isla de los Pinos), revisited\nJamaica, coasted the south of Hispaniola, and on the 24th of September\ntouched at and named the island of La Mona, in the channel between\nHispaniola and Porto Rico. Thence he had intended to sail eastwards and\ncomplete the survey of the Caribbean Archipelago; but he was exhausted\nby the terrible tear and wear of mind and body he had undergone (he says\nhimself that on this expedition he was three-and-thirty days almost\nwithout sleep), and on the day following his departure from La Mona he\nfell into a lethargy, that deprived him of sense and memory, and had\nwell-nigh proved fatal to life. At last, on the 29th of September, the\nlittle fleet dropped anchor off Isabella, and in his new city the\nadmiral lay sick for five months.\n\nThe colony was in a sad plight. Every one was discontented, and many\nwere sick, for the climate was unhealthy and there was nothing to eat.\nMargarit and Boil had deserted the settlement and fled to Spain, but ere\nhis departure the former, in his capacity of captain-general, had done\nmuch to outrage and alienate the Indians. The strongest measures were\nnecessary to undo this mischief, and, backed by his brother Bartholomew,\nColumbus proceeded to reduce the natives under Spanish sway. Alonso de\nOjeda succeeded by a brilliant _coup de main_ in capturing the cacique\nCaonabo, and the rest submitted. Five ship-loads of Indians were sent\noff to Seville (24th June 1495) to be sold as slaves; and a tribute was\nimposed upon their fellows, which must be looked upon as the origin of\nthat system of _repartimientos_ or _encomiendas_ which was afterwards to\nwork such mischief among the conquered. In October 1495 Juan Aguado\narrived at Isabella, with a royal commission to report on the state of\nthe colony; here he took up the position of a judge of Columbus's\ngovernment; and much recrimination followed. Columbus decided to return\nhome; he appointed his brother Bartholomew _adelantado_ of the island;\nand on the 10th of March 1496 he quitted Hispaniola in the \"Nina.\" The\nvessel, after a protracted and perilous voyage, reached Cadiz on the\n11th of June 1496, where the admiral landed, wearing the habit of a\nFranciscan. He was cordially received by his sovereigns, and a new fleet\nof eight vessels was put at his disposal. By royal patent, moreover, a\ntract of land in Hispaniola, of 50 leagues by 20, was offered to him,\nwith the title of duke or marquis (which he declined); for three years\nhe was to receive an eighth of the gross and a tenth of the net profits\non each voyage; the right of creating a _mayorazgo_ or perpetual entail\nof titles and estates was granted him; and his two sons were received\ninto Isabella's service as pages.\n\n\n  Third voyage.\n\nMeanwhile, however, the preparing of the fleet proceeded slowly, and it\nwas not till the 30th of May 1498 that he set sail with his main fleet\nof six ships--two caravels had already been sent on ahead. From San\nLucar he steered for Porto Santo, Madeira, and Gomera, despatching three\nvessels direct from the Canaries to Hispaniola. He next proceeded to the\nCape Verde Islands, which he quitted on the 5th of July. On the 31st of\nthe same month, being greatly in need of water, and fearing that no land\nlay westwards as he had hoped, Columbus had turned his ship's head\nnorth, when Alonzo Perez of Huelva saw land about 15 leagues to the\nsouth-west. It was crowned with three hill-tops, from which\ncircumstance, and in fulfilment of a vow made at starting (to name the\nfirst land discovered on this voyage in honour of the Trinity), the\nadmiral named it Trinidad, which name it yet bears. On Wednesday, the\n1st of August, he beheld for the first time the mainland of South\nAmerica, the continent he had sought so long. It seemed to him but an\ninsignificant island, and he called it Isla Santa. Sailing westwards,\nnext day he saw the Gulf of Paria (named by him the Golfo de la\nBallena), into which he was borne at immense risk on the ridge of waters\nformed by the meeting of the sea and the Orinoco estuaries. For several\ndays he coasted the continent, esteeming as islands the various\nprojections he saw, and naming them accordingly, nor was it until he had\nrealized the volume poured out by the Orinoco that he began to perceive\nthe truly continental character of his last discovery. He was now\nanxious to revisit the colony in Hispaniola; and after sighting Tobago,\nGrenada, and Margarita, made for San Domingo, the new capital of the\nsettlement, where he arrived on the 31st of August. He found that\naffairs had not prospered well in his absence. By the vigour and\nactivity of the _adelantado_, the whole island had been reduced under\nSpanish sway; but under the leadership of Francisco Roldan the\nmalcontent settlers had risen in revolt, and Columbus had to compromise\nmatters in order to restore peace. Roldan retained his office of chief\njustice; and such of his followers as chose to remain in the island were\ngratified with _repartimientos_ of land and labour.\n\nAt home, however, court favour had turned against Columbus. For one\nthing, the ex-colonists were often bitterly hostile to the admiral and\nhis brothers. They were wont to parade their grievances in the very\ncourt-yards of the Alhambra, to surround the king when he came forth\nwith complaints and reclamations, to insult the discoverer's young sons\nwith shouts and jeers. Again, the queen began to criticize severely the\nshipment of Indians from the new-found lands to Spain. And once more,\nthere was no doubt that the colony itself, whatever the cause, had not\nprospered so well as might have been desired. Ferdinand's support of\nColumbus had never been very hearty, and his inclination to supersede\nthe Genoese now prevailed over the queen's friendliness. Accordingly, on\nthe 21st of May 1499, Francisco Bobadilla was appointed governor and\njudge of Hispaniola during royal pleasure, with authority to examine\ninto all complaints. Columbus was ordered to deliver up his charge to\nBobadilla, and to accept whatever the latter should deliver him from the\nsovereigns. Bobadilla left Spain in June 1500, and landed in Hispaniola\non the 23rd of August.\n\nColumbus, meanwhile, had restored such tranquillity as was possible in\nhis government. With Roldan's help he had beaten off an attempt on the\nisland of the adventurer Ojeda, his old lieutenant; the Indians were\nbeing collected into villages and Christianized. Gold-mining was\nprofitably pursued; in three years, he calculated, the royal revenues\nmight be raised to an average of 60,000,000 reals. The arrival of\nBobadilla, however, speedily changed this state of affairs. On landing,\nhe took possession of the admiral's house and summoned him and his\nbrothers before him. Accusations of severity, of injustice, of venality\neven, were poured down on their heads, and Columbus anticipated nothing\nless than a shameful death. Bobadilla put all three in irons, and\nshipped them off to Spain.\n\nAlonso Vallejo, captain of the caravel in which the illustrious\nprisoners sailed, still retained a proper sense of the honour and\nrespect due to Columbus, and would have removed the fetters; but to this\nColumbus would not consent. He would wear them, he said, until their\nhighnesses, by whose order they had been affixed, should order their\nremoval; and he would keep them afterwards \"as relics and as memorials\nof the reward of his service.\" He did so. His son Fernando \"saw them\nalways hanging in his cabinet, and he requested that when he died they\nmight be buried with him.\" Whether this last wish was complied with is\nnot known.\n\nA heart-broken and indignant letter from Columbus to Dona Juana de\nTorres, formerly nurse of the infante Don Juan, arrived at court before\nthe despatch of Bobadilla. It was read to the queen, and its tidings\nwere confirmed by communications from Alonso Vallejo and the alcaide of\nCadiz. There was a great movement of indignation; the tide of popular\nand royal feeling turned once more in the admiral's favour. He received\na large sum to defray his expenses; and when he appeared at court, on\nthe 17th of December 1500, he was no longer in irons and disgrace, but\nrichly apparelled and surrounded with friends. He was received with all\nhonour and distinction. The queen is said to have been moved to tears by\nthe narration of his story. Their majesties not only repudiated\nBobadilla's proceedings, but declined to inquire into the charges that\nhe at the same time brought against his prisoners, and promised Columbus\ncompensation for his losses and satisfaction for his wrongs. A new\ngovernor, Nicolas de Ovando, was appointed, and left San Lucar on the\n13th of February 1502, with a fleet of thirty ships, to supersede\nBobadilla. The latter was to be impeached and sent home; the admiral's\nproperty was to be restored; and a fresh start was to be made in the\nconduct of colonial affairs. Thus ended Columbus's history as viceroy\nand governor of the new Indies which he had presented to the country of\nhis adoption.\n\n\n  Fourth voyage.\n\nHis hour of rest, however, was not yet come. Ever anxious to serve their\nCatholic highnesses, \"and particularly the queen,\" he had determined to\nfind a strait through which he might penetrate westwards into Portuguese\nAsia. After the usual inevitable delays his prayers were granted, and on\nthe 9th of May 1502, with four caravels and 150 men, he weighed anchor\nfrom Cadiz, and sailed on his fourth and last great voyage. He first\nbetook himself to the relief of the Portuguese fort of Arzilla, which\nhad been besieged by the Moors, but the siege had been raised before he\narrived. He put to sea westwards once more, and on the 15th of June\ndiscovered the island of Martinino (probably St Lucia). He had received\npositive instructions from his sovereigns on no account to touch at\nHispaniola; but his largest caravel was greatly in need of repairs, and\nhe had no choice but to abandon her or disobey orders. He preferred the\nlatter alternative, and sent a boat ashore to Ovando, asking for a new\nship and for permission to enter the harbour to weather a hurricane\nwhich he saw was coming on. But his requests were refused, and he\ncoasted the island, casting anchor under lee of the land. Here he\nweathered the storm, which drove the other caravels out to sea, and\nannihilated the homeward-bound fleet, the richest that had till then\nbeen sent from Hispaniola. Roldan and Bobadilla perished with others of\nthe admiral's enemies; and Fernando Columbus, who accompanied his father\non this voyage, wrote long afterwards, \"I am satisfied it was the hand\nof God, for had they arrived in Spain they had never been punished as\ntheir crimes deserved, but rather been favoured and preferred.\"\n\nAfter recruiting his flotilla at Azua, Columbus put in at Jaquimo and\nrefitted his four vessels; and on the 14th of July 1502 he steered for\nJamaica. For several days the ships wandered painfully among the keys\nand shoals he had named the Garden of the Queen, and only an opportune\neasterly wind prevented the crews from open mutiny. The first land\nsighted (July 30th) was the islet of Guanaja, about 40 m. east of the\ncoast of Honduras. Here he got news from an old Indian of a rich and\nvast country lying to the eastward, which he at once concluded must be\nthe long-sought-for empire of the grand khan. Steering along the coast\nof Honduras, great hardships were endured, but nothing approaching his\nideal was discovered. On the 12th of September Cape Gracias-a-Dios was\nrounded. The men had become clamorous and insubordinate; not until the\n5th of December, however, would he tack about and retrace his course. It\nnow became his intention to plant a colony on the river Veragua, which\nwas afterwards to give his descendants a title of nobility; but he had\nhardly put about when he was caught in a storm, which lasted eight days,\nwrenched and strained his crazy, worm-eaten ships severely, and finally,\non Epiphany Sunday 1503, blew him into an embouchure which he named\nBelem or Bethlehem. Gold was very plentiful in this place, and here he\ndetermined to found his settlement. By the end of March 1503 a number of\nhuts had been run up, and in these the _adelantado_ (Bartholomew\nColumbus), with 80 men, was to remain, while Christopher returned to\nSpain for men and supplies. Quarrels, however, arose with the natives;\nthe cacique was made prisoner, but escaped again; and before Columbus\ncould leave the coast he had to abandon a caravel, to take the settlers\non board, and to relinquish the enterprise of colonization. Steering\neastwards, he left a second caravel at Puerto Bello; he thence bore\nnorthwards for Cuba, where he obtained supplies from the natives. From\nCuba he bore up for Jamaica, and there, in the harbour of San Gloria,\nnow St Ann's Bay, he ran his ships aground in a small inlet still called\nDon Christopher's Cove (June 23rd, 1503).\n\nThe expedition was received with great kindness by the natives, and here\nColumbus remained upwards of a year, awaiting the return of his\nlieutenant Diego Mendez, whom he had despatched to Ovando for\nassistance. During his critical sojourn here, the admiral suffered much\nfrom disease and from the lawlessness of his followers, whose misconduct\nhad alienated the natives, and provoked them to withhold their\naccustomed supplies, until he dexterously worked upon their\nsuperstitions by prognosticating an eclipse. Two vessels having at last\narrived for his relief, Columbus left Jamaica on the 28th of June 1504,\nand, after calling at Hispaniola, set sail for Spain on the 12th of\nSeptember. After a tempestuous voyage he landed once more at San Lucar\non the 7th of November 1504.\n\nAs he was too ill to go to court, his son Diego was sent thither in his\nplace, to look after his interests and transact his business. Letter\nafter letter followed the young man from Seville--one by the hands of\nAmerigo Vespucci. A licence to ride on muleback was granted him on the\n23rd of February 1505; and in the following May he was removed to the\ncourt at Segovia, and thence again to Valladolid. On the landing of\nPhilip and Juana at Coruna (25th of April 1506), although \"much\noppressed with the gout and troubled to see himself put by his rights,\"\nhe is known to have sent off the _adelantado_ to pay them his duty and\nto assure them that he was yet able to do them extraordinary service.\nThe last documentary note of him is contained in a final codicil to the\nwill of 1498, made at Valladolid on the 19th of May 1506. By this the\nold will is confirmed; the _mayorazgo_ is bequeathed to his son Diego\nand his heirs male, failing these to Fernando, his second son, and\nfailing these to the heirs male of Bartholomew; only in case of the\nextinction of the male line, direct or collateral, is it to descend to\nthe females of the family; and those into whose hands it may fall are\nnever to diminish it, but always to increase and ennoble it by all means\npossible. The head of the house is to sign himself \"The Admiral.\" A\ntenth of the annual income is to be set aside yearly for distribution\namong the poor relations of the house. A chapel is founded and endowed\nfor the saying of masses. Beatriz Enriquez is left to the care of the\nyoung admiral. Among other legacies is one of \"half a mark of silver to\na Jew who used to live at the gate of the Jewry, in Lisbon.\" The codicil\nwas written and signed with the admiral's own hand. Next day (20th of\nMay 1506) he died.\n\nAfter the funeral ceremonies at Valladolid, Columbus's remains were\ntransferred to the Carthusian monastery of Santa Maria de las Cuevas,\nSeville, where the bones of his son Diego, the second admiral, were also\nlaid. Exhumed in 1542, the bodies of both father and son were taken over\nsea to Hispaniola and interred in the cathedral of San Domingo. In\n1795-1796, on the cession of that island to the French, the relics were\nre-exhumed and transferred to the cathedral of Havana, whence, after the\nSpanish-American War of 1898 and the loss of Cuba, they were finally\nremoved to Seville cathedral, where they remain. The present heir and\nrepresentative of Columbus belongs to the Larreategui family,\ndescendants of the discoverer through the female line, and retains the\ntitles of admiral and duke of Veragua.\n\n[Illustration: Columbus Cipher.\n\nThe interpretation of the seven-lettered cipher, accepting the smaller\nletters of the second line as the final ones of the words, seems to be\n_Salve Christus, Maria, Yosephus_. The name _Christopher_\n(_Christoferens_) appears in the last line.]\n\nIn person Columbus was tall and shapely. The only authentic portrait of\nhim is that which once belonged to Paulus Jovius, and is still in the\npossession of the de Orchi family (related to Jovius by female descent)\nat Como. It shows us a venerable man with clean-shaven face, thin grey\nhair, high forehead, sad thoughtful eyes. It bears the inscription\n_Columbus Lygur. novi orbis repertor_.\n\n  AUTHORITIES.--Fernando Columbus, _Historie del Signor Don Fernando\n  Colombo ... e vera relatione della vita ... dell' Ammiraglio D.\n  Christoforo Colombo_ (the Spanish original of this, written before\n  1539, is lost; only the Italian version remains, first published at\n  Venice in 1571; a good edition appeared in London in 1867); Bartolome\n  de las Casas, _Historia de las Indias_, written 1527-1561, but first\n  printed at Madrid in 1875, after remaining in manuscript more than\n  three centuries; Andres Bernandez, _Historia de los Reyes Catolicos_\n  (contemporary with Fernando Columbus's _Historie_, but first printed\n  at Granada in 1856; best edition, Seville, 1870); Gonzalo Fernandez\n  Oviedo y Valdes, _Historia general de las Indias_ (Seville, 1535; best\n  edition, Madrid, 1851-1855); Peter Martyr d'Anghiera, _Opus\n  Epistolarum_, first published in 1530, and _De Orbe Novo_ (_Decades_),\n  printed in 1511 and 1530; Francisco Lopez de Gomara, _Historia general\n  de las Indias_ (Saragossa, 1552-1553, and Antwerp, 1554); Antonio de\n  Herrera, _Historia general de las Indias occidentales_ (publication\n  first completed in 1615, but best edition perhaps that of 1730,\n  Madrid); Juan Bautista Munoz, _Historia del Nuevo Mundo_ (Madrid,\n  1793); Martin Fernandez Navarrete, _Coleccion de los Viages y\n  descubrimientos que hicieron por mar los Espanoles_ (Madrid,\n  1825-1837); Washington Irving, _History of the Life and Voyages of\n  Christopher Columbus_ (London, 1827-1828); Alex. von Humboldt, _Examen\n  critique_ (Paris, 1836-1839); R. H. Major, _Select Letters of_\n  _Columbus_ (London, Hakluyt Society, 1847); Fernandez Duro, _Colon y\n  Pinzon_ (Madrid, 1883); Henry Harrisse, _Christophe Colomb_ (Paris,\n  1884), and _Christophe Colomb devant l'histoire_ (Paris, 1892); Justin\n  Winsor, _Christopher Columbus_ (Cambridge, Mass., 1891); Jose Maria\n  Asensio, _Cristoval Colon_ (Barcelona, 1892); Clements R. Markham,\n  _Life of Christopher Columbus_ (London, 1892); John Fiske, _Discovery\n  of America_ (Boston and New York, 1892); E. J. Payne, _History of the\n  New World called America_, vol. i. (Oxford, 1892); Paul Gaffarel,\n  _Histoire de la decouverte de l'Amerique_ (Paris, 1892); Charles I.\n  Elton, _Career of Columbus_ (London, 1892); _Raccolta Colombiana_\n  (1892, &c.); Sophus Ruge, _Columbus_ (Berlin, 1902); John Boyd\n  Thatcher, _Christopher Columbus_ (New York, 1903-1904); Henry Vignaud,\n  _La Lettre et la carte de Toscanelli_ (Paris, 1901), and _Etudes\n  critiques sur la vie de Colomb avant ses decouvertes_ (Paris, 1905);\n  Filson Young, _Christopher Columbus and the New World of his\n  discovery_ (London, 1906).     (C. R. B.)\n\n\n\n\n\n\nEnd of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Encyclopaedia Britannica, 11th\nEdition, Volume 6, Slice 6, by Various\n\n*** ","meta":{"redpajama_set_name":"RedPajamaBook"}}
+{"text":"\n**Henrik Ibsen**\n\n# Hedda Gabler\n\n# (Vollst\u00e4ndige deutsche Ausgabe)\n\n**Die Fatale Frau**\n\n_\u00dcbersetzer: Marie von Borch_\n\n\u00a9 e-artnow, 2015  \nKontakt: info@e-artnow.org\n\nISBN 978-80-268-5029-8\n\n**Editorische Notiz:** Dieses eBuch folgt dem Originaltext.\n\n# **Inhaltsverzeichnis**\n\nHedda Gabler\n\nBiografie\n\n## Hedda Gabler\n\nInhaltsverzeichnis\n\nPersonen\n\nErster Akt\n\nZweiter Akt\n\nDritter Akt\n\nVierter Akt\n\n### Personen\n\nInhaltsverzeichnis\n\nJ\u00f6rgen Tesman, Staatsstipendiat der Kulturgeschichte  \nHedda, seine Frau  \nFr\u00e4ulein Juliane Tesman, seine Tante  \nFrau Elvsted  \nAssessor Brack  \nEjlert L\u00f6vborg  \nBerte, Dienstm\u00e4dchen bei Tesman\n\nDas St\u00fcck spielt in Tesmans Villa; westliche Stadtgegend.\n\n### Erster Akt\n\nInhaltsverzeichnis\n\nEin ger\u00e4umiges, fein und geschmackvoll eingerichtetes Gesellschaftszimmer, dekoriert in dunkeln Farben. An der R\u00fcckwand eine breite T\u00fcr\u00f6ffnung mit zur\u00fcckgeschlagenen Porti\u00e8ren. Durch diese \u00d6ffnung gelangt man in ein kleineres Zimmer, das in demselben Stil gehalten ist wie das Gesellschaftszimmer. An der rechten Wand des Gesellschaftszimmers ist eine Fl\u00fcgelt\u00fcr, durch die man ins Vorzimmer kommt. Gegen\u00fcber, zur Linken, eine Glast\u00fcr, gleichfalls mit zur\u00fcckgeschlagenem Vorhang. Durch die Scheiben erblickt man einen Teil der drau\u00dfen liegenden, gedeckten Veranda und herbstlich gef\u00e4rbte Laubb\u00e4ume. Im Vordergrund steht ein ovaler Tisch mit Decke, der von St\u00fchlen umgeben ist. Vor der rechten Wand ein breiter, dunkler Kachelofen, ein Lehnstuhl mit hohem R\u00fccken, ein Fu\u00dfschemel mit Kissen und zwei Taburetts. Hinten im Winkel rechts ein Ecksofa und ein kleiner runder Tisch. Vorn links, etwas von der Wand entfernt, ein Sofa. An der Glast\u00fcr ein Pianoforte. Zu beiden Seiten der T\u00fcr\u00f6ffnung im Hintergrund stehen Etag\u00e8ren mit Terrakotta- und Majolika-Gegenst\u00e4nden. \u2013 An der R\u00fcckwand des inneren Zimmers sieht man ein Sofa, einen Tisch und ein paar St\u00fchle. \u00dcber diesem Sofa h\u00e4ngt das Portr\u00e4t eines sch\u00f6nen \u00e4lteren Mannes in Generalsuniform. \u00dcber dem Tisch eine H\u00e4ngelampe mit Glocke von mattem Milchglas. \u2013 Ringsum im Gesellschaftszimmer eine Menge Blumenstr\u00e4u\u00dfe in Vasen und Gl\u00e4sern; andere liegen auf dem Tische. Beide Zimmer sind mit dicken Fu\u00dfteppichen belegt. \u2013\n\nMorgenbeleuchtung. Die Sonne scheint durch die Glast\u00fcr.\n\nJuliane Tesman, mit Hut und Sonnenschirm, kommt durch das Vorzimmer; Berte, die ein mit Papier umwickeltes Bukett tr\u00e4gt, folgt ihr. Fr\u00e4ulein Tesman ist eine Dame von angenehmem und gutm\u00fctigem Aussehen; sie ist ungef\u00e4hr 65 Jahre. Einfach, doch sorgf\u00e4ltig gekleidet; graues Stra\u00dfenkost\u00fcm. Berte ist ein \u00e4lteres Dienstm\u00e4dchen von schlichtem, etwas l\u00e4ndlichem \u00c4u\u00dfern.\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman bleibt innerhalb der T\u00fcr stehen, horcht und sagt mit ged\u00e4mpfter Stimme: Aber nein \u2013! Ich glaube wirklich, sie sind noch nicht auf den Beinen!\n\nBerte gleichfalls mit ged\u00e4mpfter Stimme. Das habe ich doch gesagt, Fr\u00e4ulein. Denken Sie doch blo\u00df, wie sp\u00e4t in der Nacht das Dampfschiff angekommen ist! Und dann nachher! Herrjeh, \u2013 was die junge Frau nicht alles noch auszupacken hatte, bis sie zu Bett kam!\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman. Ja, ja \u2013 m\u00f6gen sie sich nur recht ausschlafen! Aber frische Morgenluft, die sollen sie im Zimmer haben, wenn sie kommen. Sie geht zur Glast\u00fcr und macht sie weit auf.\n\nBerte am Tisch, ratlos, mit dem Bukett in der Hand. Wahrhaftigen Gott ja, \u2013 ob hier wohl noch ein anst\u00e4ndiger Platz ist! \u2013 Ich meine, ich setz' es dahin, Fr\u00e4ulein! Stellt das Bukett aufs Piano.\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman. Na, jetzt hast Du also eine neue Herrschaft, meine liebe Berte. Der Himmel wei\u00df, wie furchtbar schwer es mir geworden ist, mich von Dir zu trennen.\n\nBerte weinerlich. Und mir erst, Fr\u00e4ulein! Was soll _ich_ erst sagen? Ich habe doch nun schon so manches liebe Jahr in der Fr\u00e4uleins Lohn und Brod gestanden.\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman. Wir m\u00fcssen uns drein schicken, Berte. Es bleibt uns wei\u00df Gott nichts anderes \u00fcbrig. Sieh mal, J\u00f6rgen _mu\u00df_ Dich in der Wirtschaft haben. Er _mu\u00df_. Von Kindesbeinen an war er ja doch gew\u00f6hnt, da\u00df Du f\u00fcr ihn sorgst.\n\nBerte. Ja Fr\u00e4ulein, aber die kommt mir doch gar nicht aus dem Sinn, die zu Hause liegt. Die Arme, die so ganz hilflos ist! Und nun gar das neue M\u00e4dchen! In ihrem ganzen Leben lernt _die_ nicht, es der Kranken recht zu machen.\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman. Ach, ich werde sie schon noch dazu anlernen. Und die Hauptsache nehme ich selbst auf mich, verstehst Du. Wegen meiner armen Schwester, da brauchst Du Dir keine Sorge zu machen, meine liebe Berte.\n\nBerte. Ja, aber es ist auch noch etwas andres, Fr\u00e4ulein. Ich bin n\u00e4mlich ordentlich bange, ich mache es der jungen Frau nicht recht.\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman. Na, lieber Gott, \u2013 im Anfang kann vielleicht wohl dies oder das \u2013\n\nBerte. Ach, die ist gewi\u00df sehr heiklich.\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman. Das kannst Du Dir doch denken. Die Tochter des Generals Gabler. Freilich, wie die es gewohnt war, solange der General noch lebte! Wei\u00dft Du noch, wenn sie mit ihrem Vater ausgeritten ist? In dem langen schwarzen Tuchrock? Und mit Federn auf dem Hut?\n\nBerte. I ja \u2013 das sollt' ich meinen! \u2013 Nein, wahrhaftigen Gott, wer h\u00e4tte damals gedacht, da\u00df aus ihr und dem Herrn Kandidaten ein Paar werden sollte!\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman. Ich h\u00e4tte es auch nicht gedacht. Aber ist ja wahr, \u2013 Du, Berte, ehe ich es vergesse: Du darfst J\u00f6rgen nicht mehr Kandidat nennen. Du mu\u00dft sagen: Herr Doktor.\n\nBerte. Ja, das hat die junge Frau auch gesagt \u2013 die Nacht, \u2013 gleich, wie sie zur T\u00fcr hereingekommen sind. Ist denn das richtig, Fr\u00e4ulein?\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman. Freilich ist das richtig. Denk nur, \u2013 sie haben ihn zum Doktor gemacht, im Ausland. Jetzt, auf der Reise, verstehst Du. Ich wu\u00dfte kein Sterbensw\u00f6rtchen davon \u2013 bis er mir es unten auf der Dampfschiffsbr\u00fccke erz\u00e4hlte.\n\nBerte. I ja, aus dem kann noch alles M\u00f6gliche werden. So flink, wie _der_ ist. Aber das h\u00e4tte ich doch nun und nimmer gedacht, da\u00df er sich auch damit abgeben w\u00fcrde, die Leute zu kurieren.\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman. Nein, solch ein Doktor ist er nicht geworden. \u2013 Nickt bedeutungsvoll. \u00dcbrigens ist es vielleicht bald so weit, da\u00df Du ihn noch stattlicher titulieren kannst.\n\nBerte. Was Sie sagen! Und wie denn, Fr\u00e4ulein?\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman l\u00e4chelt. Hm, \u2013 ja, das m\u00f6chtest Du wohl wissen! Bewegt. Ach, lieber Gott ja, \u2013 wenn Jochum selig aus seinem Grabe aufstehen und schauen k\u00f6nnte, was aus seinem kleinen Jungen geworden ist! Sieht sich um. Aber h\u00f6r' mal, Berte, \u2013 warum hast Du das getan und die \u00dcberz\u00fcge von allen M\u00f6beln weggenommen.\n\nBerte. Die gn\u00e4dige Frau sagte, ich sollt' es tun. Sie kann keine \u00dcberz\u00fcge an den St\u00fchlen leiden, sagte sie.\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman. Also wollen sie sich hier drin aufhalten \u2013 so f\u00fcr alle Tage?\n\nBerte. Ja, es scheint so. Wenigstens die junge Frau. Denn er \u2013 der Herr Doktor, \u2013 der hat nichts gesagt.\n\nTesman kommt tr\u00e4llernd von der rechten Seite des Hinterzimmers, einen offenen leeren Handkoffer tragend. Er ist ein mittelgro\u00dfer Mann von jugendlichem Aussehen, 33 Jahre alt, etwas korpulent, mit einem offenen, runden, vergn\u00fcgten Gesicht, blondem Haar und Bart. Er tr\u00e4gt eine Brille und hat einen bequemen, etwas nachl\u00e4ssigen Hausanzug an.\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman. Guten Morgen, guten Morgen, J\u00f6rgen!\n\nTesman in der T\u00fcr\u00f6ffnung. Tante Julle! Liebe Tante Julle! Geht auf sie zu und sch\u00fcttelt ihr die Hand. Den weiten Weg hier heraus \u2013 und so fr\u00fch am Tage! Was?\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman. Du kannst Dir doch denken, ich mu\u00dfte auf ein Weilchen bei Euch vorsprechen.\n\nTesman. Und dabei hast Du noch nicht einmal Deine ordentliche Nachtruhe gehabt!\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman. Ach, das macht mir gar nichts!\n\nTesman. Na, Du bist doch gut nach Haus gekommen von der Landungsbr\u00fccke? Was?\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman. Ja nat\u00fcrlich \u2013 Gott sei Dank! Der Herr Assessor war so freundlich, mich bis an die Haust\u00fcr zu begleiten.\n\nTesman. Es hat uns leid getan, da\u00df wir Dich nicht im Wagen mitnehmen konnten. Aber, Du hast ja selbst gesehen \u2013. Hedda hatte so viele Schachteln, die mitmu\u00dften.\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman. Ja, sie hatte wirklich die schwere Menge Schachteln mit.\n\nBerte zu Tesman. Soll ich vielleicht hineingehen und die gn\u00e4dige Frau fragen, ob ich ihr mit was helfen kann?\n\nTesman. Nein, \u2013 danke, Berte, \u2013 la\u00df das lieber sein. Sie sagte, sie wird schon klingeln, wenn sie etwas von Dir will.\n\nBerte geht nach rechts. So so, ja.\n\nTesman. Da sieh mal, Du, \u2013 nimm den Koffer da mit!\n\nBerte nimmt ihn. Den bring' ich auf den Boden rauf. Sie geht durch die Vorzimmert\u00fcr hinaus.\n\nTesman. Du, Tante, denke Dir, \u2013 den ganzen Koffer hatte ich gestopft voll nur mit Abschriften. Du, es ist geradezu unglaublich, was ich da alles in den Archiven herum gesammelt habe. Alte, merkw\u00fcrdige Sachen, mit denen kein Mensch etwas anzufangen wu\u00dfte \u2013\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman. Ja, ja, \u2013 Du hast Deine Zeit auf der Hochzeitsreise nicht verschwendet, J\u00f6rgen.\n\nTesman. Ja, das darf ich wohl sagen. Aber so nimm doch Deinen Hut ab, Tante! So! Komm, ich will Dir die Schleife aufbinden. Was?\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman, w\u00e4hrend er es tut. Ach, lieber Gott, \u2013 das ist ja gerade so, als ob Du noch bei uns zu Hause w\u00e4rst.\n\nTesman dreht und wendet den Hut in der Hand. Aber, was Du Dir f\u00fcr einen sch\u00f6nen eleganten Hut zugelegt hast!\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman. Den habe ich mir wegen Hedda angeschafft.\n\nTesman. Wegen Hedda? Was?\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman. Ja, damit Hedda sich meiner nicht zu sch\u00e4men braucht, wenn wir einmal zusammen auf der Stra\u00dfe gehen.\n\nTesman klopft sie auf die Backe. Du denkst aber auch an alles, Du gute Tante Julle! Legt den Hut auf einen Stuhl beim Tische. Und nun, \u2013 siehst Du, \u2013 nun lassen wir uns auf dem Sofa hier h\u00e4uslich nieder \u2013 und schw\u00e4tzen ein bi\u00dfchen, bis Hedda kommt.\n\nSie setzen sich, Fr\u00e4ulein Tesman stellt ihren Sonnenschirm in die Sofaecke.\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman ergreift Tesmans beide H\u00e4nde und sieht ihn an. Ach, wie wunderbar wohl das tut, Dich wieder vor Augen zu haben, wie Du leibst und lebst, J\u00f6rgen! O, Du, \u2013 Du lieber Junge unseres seligen Jochum!\n\nTesman. Und mir erst! Dich wiederzusehen, Tante Julle! Du, die Vater- und Mutterstelle an mir vertreten hat.\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman. Ja, ich wei\u00df wohl, Du wirst Deine alten Tanten immer lieb haben.\n\nTesman. Und mit Tante Rina geht es also noch gar nicht besser? Was?\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman. Ach nein, Du, \u2013 f\u00fcr die \u00c4rmste ist keine Besserung zu erwarten. Die liegt noch immer da, wie sie in den ganzen Jahren dagelegen hat. Aber der Himmel gebe, da\u00df ich sie noch eine Zeit behalte! Denn sonst wei\u00df ich wirklich nicht, was ich mit dem Leben anfangen soll. Besonders jetzt, sieh mal, wo ich nicht mehr f\u00fcr Dich zu sorgen habe.\n\nTesman klopft sie auf den R\u00fccken. Na, na, na \u2013!\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman f\u00e4llt unversehens in einen anderen Ton. Nein, wenn man bedenkt, da\u00df Du jetzt ein Ehemann bist, J\u00f6rgen! Und da\u00df von allen _Du_ Hedda Gabler heimgef\u00fchrt hast. Denk einer an! Die reizende Hedda Gabler, \u2013 die so viele Kurmacher um sich hatte!\n\nTesman tr\u00e4llert leicht und l\u00e4chelt zufrieden. Ja, ich glaube schon, hier in der Stadt laufen nicht wenige gute Freunde von mir herum und beneiden mich. Was?\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman. Und da\u00df Du eine so lange Hochzeitsreise machen konntest! \u00dcber f\u00fcnf \u2013 fast sechs Monate \u2013\n\nTesman. Na, \u2013 f\u00fcr mich ist es ja doch auch eine Art Studienreise gewesen. Wie viele Archive mu\u00dfte ich nicht durchforschen \u2013! Und Du, \u2013 die Masse B\u00fccher, die ich zu lesen hatte!\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman. I freilich, ja. Vertraulicher und mit etwas ged\u00e4mpfter Stimme. Aber h\u00f6r' mal, J\u00f6rgen \u2013 hast Du mir nicht was \u2013 was Extraes zu erz\u00e4hlen?\n\nTesman. Von der Reise?\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman. Ja.\n\nTesman. Nein, mehr, als was ich in meinen Briefen geschrieben habe, wei\u00df ich nicht. Da\u00df ich den Doktor gemacht habe da unten, \u2013 das habe ich Dir doch gestern erz\u00e4hlt.\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman. Ja, das schon. Aber ich meine, \u2013 ob Du nicht \u2013 nicht \u2013 Aussichten hast \u2013?\n\nTesman. Aussichten?\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman. Mein Gott, J\u00f6rgen, \u2013 ich bin doch Deine alte Tante!\n\nTesman. Freilich habe ich Aussichten, jawohl.\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman. Na also!\n\nTesman. Ich habe sogar die allerbesten Aussichten, in n\u00e4chster Zeit Professor zu werden.\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman. Ja, Professor, ja \u2013\n\nTesman. Oder, \u2013 ich darf schon sagen, ich habe die Gewi\u00dfheit, da\u00df ich es werde. Aber, beste Tante Julle, das wei\u00dft Du doch selbst recht gut.\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman schmunzelnd. Ja, allerdings. Da hast Du recht. Wechselt den Ton. Aber wir wollten ja von der Reise reden. \u2013 Sie hat Dich wohl eine schwere Menge Geld gekostet, J\u00f6rgen?\n\nTesman. Na, lieber Gott, \u2013 das gro\u00dfe Stipendium hat ja ein sch\u00f6nes St\u00fcck vorw\u00e4rts geholfen.\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman. Ich verstehe nur nicht, wie Du es angefangen hast, da\u00df es f\u00fcr zwei langte.\n\nTesman. Ja, ja, das ist auch nicht so ohne weiteres zu verstehen. Was?\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman. Und noch dazu, wenn man mit einer Dame reist. Denn das soll schrecklich viel teurer kommen, habe ich mir sagen lassen.\n\nTesman. Versteht sich \u2013 ja, ein bi\u00dfchen teurer kommt es freilich. Aber Hedda _mu\u00dfte_ die Reise haben, Tante! Sie _mu\u00dfte_ es wirklich. Anders h\u00e4tte es sich nicht gepa\u00dft.\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman. Nein, nein, allerdings wohl nicht. Denn eine Hochzeitsreise geh\u00f6rt ja heutzutage mit dazu. \u2013 Doch, sag' mal: hast Du Dich hier bei Dir zu Haus auch schon ordentlich umgesehen?\n\nTesman. Das sollte ich meinen! Ich bin schon vom fr\u00fchen Morgen an auf den Beinen.\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman. Und wie findest Du alles?\n\nTesman. Ausgezeichnet! Ganz ausgezeichnet! Nur _das_ ist mir unklar, was wir mit den zwei leeren Zimmern tun sollen, die zwischen der Hinterstube und Heddas Schlafzimmer liegen.\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman schmunzelt. Ach, mein lieber J\u00f6rgen, daf\u00fcr wird sich schon Verwendung finden \u2013 so mit der Zeit.\n\nTesman. Da hast Du wirklich recht, Tante! Jawohl! F\u00fcr den Fall, da\u00df ich allm\u00e4hlich meine Bibliothek vermehre \u2013. Was?\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman. Ja eben, mein lieber Junge! An die Bibliothek, an die habe ich gedacht.\n\nTesman. Am meisten freue ich mich aber f\u00fcr Hedda. Ehe wir uns verlobten, sagte sie doch so oft: sie m\u00f6chte nirgends anders wohnen als in der Villa der Staatsr\u00e4tin Falk.\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman. Ja, nicht wahr, \u2013 und da mu\u00dfte es sich so treffen, da\u00df die Villa zu verkaufen war. Als Ihr eben abgereist wart.\n\nTesman. Ja, Tante Julle, wir hatten wirklich Gl\u00fcck. Was?\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman. Aber teuer, mein lieber J\u00f6rgen, teuer wird es Dich kommen, \u2013 die ganze Geschichte.\n\nTesman sieht sie ein wenig verzagt an. Ja, das wird es am Ende wohl, Tante?\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman. Ja, du gro\u00dfer Gott!\n\nTesman. Wie viel, glaubst Du? So ungef\u00e4hr? Was?\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman. Das kann ich unm\u00f6glich wissen, bis alle Rechnungen da sind.\n\nTesman. Na, gl\u00fccklicherweise hat Assessor Brack so ertr\u00e4gliche Bedingungen f\u00fcr mich ausgemacht. Das hat er selbst an Hedda geschrieben.\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman. Ja, hab' deswegen nur gar keine Angst, mein Junge! \u2013 F\u00fcr die M\u00f6bel und Teppiche habe ich \u00fcberdies Sicherheit gegeben.\n\nTesman. Sicherheit? Du? Liebe Tante Julle, \u2013 was f\u00fcr eine Sicherheit konntest _Du_ denn geben?\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman. Ich habe die Renten verpf\u00e4ndet.\n\nTesman. Was? Deine \u2013 und Tante Rinas Renten?\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman. Ja, sieh mal, ich wu\u00dfte doch keinen andern Ausweg.\n\nTesman stellt sich vor sie hin. Aber, Tante, bist Du denn ganz von Sinnen! Die Renten, \u2013 das ist ja doch das einzige, wovon Ihr lebt.\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman. Na, na, \u2013 reg' Dich nur deswegen nicht so auf! Das Ganze ist doch eine blo\u00dfe Formsache, verstehst Du. Das hat Assessor Brack auch gesagt. Denn _er_ war so liebensw\u00fcrdig, die ganze Sache f\u00fcr mich zu ordnen. Eine blo\u00dfe Formsache, hat er gesagt.\n\nTesman. Ja, mag schon sein. Trotzdem aber \u2013\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman. Und jetzt bekommst Du ja Dein eigenes Gehalt, womit Du abbezahlen kannst. Herrgott, und wenn wir wirklich ein bi\u00dfchen was herausr\u00fccken m\u00fcssen \u2013? Nur so ein ganz kleines Bi\u00dfchen im Anfang \u2013? Das w\u00fcrde ja f\u00fcr uns nur ein Gl\u00fcck sein, sozusagen.\n\nTesman. Ach, Tante, \u2013,Du wirst doch nie m\u00fcde, Dich f\u00fcr mich aufzuopfern!\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman steht auf und legt die H\u00e4nde auf seine Schultern. Habe ich denn sonst eine Freude auf dieser Welt, als Dir den Weg zu ebnen, mein lieber Junge? Du hast doch weder Vater noch Mutter gehabt, an die Du Dich h\u00e4ttest halten k\u00f6nnen. Und jetzt stehen wir am Ziel, Du! Manches Mal freilich sah es etwas d\u00fcster aus. Aber, Gottlob, jetzt bist Du sch\u00f6n heraus, J\u00f6rgen!\n\nTesman. Ja, es ist im Grunde merkw\u00fcrdig, wie alles sich gef\u00fcgt hat.\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman. Ja, \u2013 und alle, die sich Dir entgegengestellt haben und Dir die Bahn versperren wollten, \u2013 siehst Du, die sind nun unterlegen. _Die_ sind gest\u00fcrzt, J\u00f6rgen. Der Dir am gef\u00e4hrlichsten war, \u2013 der tat den tiefsten Sturz. Jetzt liegt er, wie er sich selbst gebettet hat, \u2013 der arme verwahrloste Mensch.\n\nTesman. Hast Du etwas von Ejlert geh\u00f6rt? Seit meiner Abreise, meine ich.\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman. Nur, da\u00df er ein neues Buch herausgegeben haben soll.\n\nTesman. Was sagst Du! Ejlert L\u00f6vborg? Erst k\u00fcrzlich? Was?\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman. Ja, so hei\u00dft es. Ach Gott, da kann doch nicht viel dran sein, Du! Aber wenn Dein neues Buch erst erscheint, \u2013 das wird eine andere Sache sein, J\u00f6rgen! Wovon wird es denn handeln?\n\nTesman. Es soll handeln von der Brabanter Hausindustrie im Mittelalter.\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman. Nein, aber \u2013 da\u00df Du auch \u00fcber so etwas schreiben kannst!\n\nTesman. \u00dcbrigens kann es noch eine Weile mit dem Buch dauern. Ich habe ja doch zuerst einmal diese weitschichtigen Sammlungen zu ordnen, wei\u00dft Du.\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman. Jawohl, ordnen und sammeln, \u2013 das verstehst Du. Du bist nicht umsonst der Sohn von Jochum selig.\n\nTesman. Ich freue mich auch redlich darauf, ans Werk zu gehen. Besonders jetzt, da ich meine eigne, gem\u00fctliche H\u00e4uslichkeit habe, wo ich arbeiten kann.\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman. Und vor allen Dingen, \u2013 da Du _sie_ hast, die Dein Herz begehrte, lieber J\u00f6rgen.\n\nTesman umarmt sie. Ach ja, ja, Tante Julle! Hedda \u2013 ist doch das Allersch\u00f6nste! Nach der T\u00fcr\u00f6ffnung sehend. Ich glaube, da kommt sie. Was?\n\nHedda kommt von der linken Seite durch das Hinterzimmer. Sie ist eine Dame von 29 Jahren. Gesicht und Gestalt von edler, vornehmer Bildung. Die Hautfarbe ist von einer matten Bl\u00e4sse. Die Augen sind stahlgrau und haben den Ausdruck einer kalten, klaren Ruhe. Das Haar hat eine sch\u00f6ne mittelbraune Farbe, ist aber nicht sonderlich stark. Sie tr\u00e4gt ein geschmackvolles, etwas lose sitzendes Morgenkost\u00fcm.\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman geht Hedda entgegen. Guten Morgen, liebe Hedda! Einen herzlichen guten Morgen!\n\nHedda reicht ihr die Hand. Guten Morgen, liebes Fr\u00e4ulein Tesman! Ein so fr\u00fcher Besuch? Wie freundlich von Ihnen.\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman scheint etwas verlegen. Na, \u2013 wie hat denn die junge Frau in ihrem neuen Heim geschlafen?\n\nHedda. Ach, danke! So leidlich.\n\nTesman lacht. Leidlich! Du bist aber gut, Hedda! Du hast ja wie ein B\u00e4r geschlafen, als ich aufstand.\n\nHedda. Gl\u00fccklicherweise. \u00dcbrigens mu\u00df man sich an alles Neue ja doch erst gew\u00f6hnen, Fr\u00e4ulein Tesman. So nach und nach. Sieht nach links. Uh, \u2013 da hat das M\u00e4dchen die Altant\u00fcre aufgemacht. Hier drin ist ja ein ganzes Meer von Sonne.\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman geht nach der T\u00fcr. Nun, so werden wir die T\u00fcr schlie\u00dfen.\n\nHedda. Nein, nein, das nicht! Lieber Tesman, zieh doch die Vorh\u00e4nge zusammen. Das gibt ein milderes Licht.\n\nTesman an der T\u00fcr. Jawohl, \u2013 jawohl. \u2013 So, Hedda, \u2013 jetzt hast Du Schatten und zugleich frische Luft.\n\nHedda. Ja, frische Luft kann man wirklich hier brauchen. Dieser Blumensegen \u2013. Aber meine Liebe, \u2013 wollen Sie nicht Platz nehmen, Fr\u00e4ulein Tesman?\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman. Nein, ich danke vielmals. Jetzt wei\u00df ich ja, da\u00df es hier gut geht, \u2013 Gottlob! Ich mu\u00df nun auch sehen, da\u00df ich wieder nach Hause komme \u2013 zu der \u00c4rmsten, die daliegt und so sehns\u00fcchtig wartet!\n\nTesman. Du, gr\u00fc\u00df' sie nur viele, viele Male von mir! Und sag' ihr, ich komme nachher und besuche sie.\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman. Ja, das will ich tun. Ach richtig, J\u00f6rgen \u2013 langt suchend in ihre Kleidertasche \u2013 das h\u00e4tte ich fast vergessen. Hier habe ich etwas f\u00fcr Dich.\n\nTesman. Was ist denn das, Tante? Was?\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman zieht ein kleines P\u00e4ckchen in Zeitungspapier hervor und reicht es ihm. Da, mein lieber Junge.\n\nTesman \u00f6ffnet. Herrjeh, nein, \u2013 die hast Du f\u00fcr mich aufgehoben, Tante Julle! Hedda! Du, das ist wirklich r\u00fchrend. Was?\n\nHedda bei den Etag\u00e8ren rechts. Was ist es denn, mein Lieber?\n\nTesman. Meine alten Morgenschuhe! Die Pantoffeln, Du!\n\nHedda. Ach so! Ja, ich erinnere mich, Du hast auf der Reise oft von ihnen gesprochen.\n\nTesman. Ja, ich habe sie auch recht sehr vermi\u00dft. Geht zu ihr hin. Nun sollst Du sie sehen, Hedda!\n\nHedda geht nach dem Ofen. Nein, danke \u2013 das interessiert mich wirklich nicht.\n\nTesman folgt ihr. Du, denk Dir, \u2013 die hat mir Tante Rina gestickt \u2013 auf ihrem schweren Krankenlager. Ach, Du glaubst nicht, wie viele Erinnerungen sich f\u00fcr mich an _die_ Pantoffeln kn\u00fcpfen.\n\nHedda am Tisch. F\u00fcr mich aber kaum.\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman. Da hat Hedda nicht so unrecht, J\u00f6rgen.\n\nTesman. Ja, aber ich meine, jetzt, wo sie zur Familie geh\u00f6rt \u2013\n\nHedda abbrechend. Mit dem M\u00e4dchen wird sicher kein Auskommen sein, Tesman!\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman. Kein Auskommen mit Berte.\n\nTesman. Schatz, \u2013 wie kommst Du denn _da_ rauf? Was?\n\nHedda zeigt hin. Sieh mal! Da hat sie ihren alten Hut auf dem Stuhl liegen lassen.\n\nTesman erschrocken, l\u00e4\u00dft die Schuhe zu Boden fallen. Aber Hedda \u2013!\n\nHedda. Denk blo\u00df, \u2013 wenn jemand k\u00e4me und das s\u00e4he.\n\nTesman. Aber Hedda, \u2013 das ist ja Tante Julles Hut!\n\nHedda. So?\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman nimmt den Hut. Ja freilich ist es meiner. Und alt ist er \u00fcbrigens gar nicht, kleine Frau Hedda.\n\nHedda. Ich habe ihn wirklich nicht so genau angesehen, Fr\u00e4ulein Tesman.\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman setzt den Hut auf und bindet die Hutb\u00e4nder zu. Es ist wahrhaftig das erste Mal, da\u00df ich ihn aufhabe. Ja, wei\u00df der liebe Gott, das ist es.\n\nTesman. Und elegant ist er auch. Ganz prachtvoll!\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman. Ach, das geht an, mein lieber J\u00f6rgen. Sieht sich um. Mein Sonnenschirm \u2013? So, hier! Nimmt ihn. Denn das ist auch meiner. Murmelt: Nicht Berte ihrer.\n\nTesman. Einen neuen Hut und einen neuen Sonnenschirm! Denk nur, Hedda!\n\nHedda. H\u00fcbsch und niedlich ist er.\n\nTesman. Ja, nicht wahr? Was? \u2013 Aber Tante, sieh Dir doch Hedda einmal ordentlich an, ehe Du gehst. Sieh nur, wie h\u00fcbsch und niedlich _sie_ ist!\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman. Ach, mein Junge, _das_ ist doch nichts Neues. Hedda war ja von jeher reizend. Sie nickt und geht nach rechts.\n\nTesman folgt ihr. Hast Du auch bemerkt, wie voll und \u00fcppig sie geworden ist? Wie sie in die Breite gegangen ist auf der Reise?\n\nHedda geht auf und ab. Ach, la\u00df doch das \u2013!\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman ist stehen geblieben und wendet sich um. In die Breite gegangen?\n\nTesman. Ja, Tante Julle, Du kannst das nicht so recht sehen, wenn sie das Kleid da anhat. Aber _ich,_ der Gelegenheit hat \u2013\n\nHedda an der Glast\u00fcr, ungeduldig. Ach, zu gar nichts hast Du Gelegenheit!\n\nTesman. Es mu\u00df wohl die Gebirgsluft in Tirol unten gewesen sein \u2013\n\nHedda kurz, abbrechend. Ich bin noch genau dieselbe, wie vor der Reise.\n\nTesman. Ja, das behauptest Du! Aber ob Du es auch wirklich bist?! Was meinst _Du,_ Tante?\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman hat die H\u00e4nde gefaltet und starrt Hedda an. Reizend \u2013 reizend \u2013 reizend ist Hedda. Geht auf sie zu, beugt mit beiden H\u00e4nden Heddas Kopf herab und k\u00fc\u00dft sie aufs Haar. Gott segne und beh\u00fcte Hedda Tesman! Um J\u00f6rgens willen.\n\nHedda macht sich sanft los. Ach \u2013! Lassen Sie mich doch!\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman in stiller Bewegung. Jeden Tag, den Gott werden l\u00e4\u00dft, komme ich zu Euch beiden.\n\nTesman. Ja, Tante, das tu aber auch! Was?\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman. Adieu, \u2013 adieu!\n\nSie geht durch die Vorzimmert\u00fcr ab. Tesman begleitet sie hinaus. Die T\u00fcr bleibt halb offen. Man h\u00f6rt, wie Tesman seine Gr\u00fc\u00dfe an Tante Rina und seinen Dank f\u00fcr die Morgenschuhe wiederholt.\n\nGleichzeitig geht Hedda im Zimmer auf und ab, hebt die Arme empor und ballt die H\u00e4nde wie in Wut. Dann schl\u00e4gt sie die Vorh\u00e4nge von der Glast\u00fcr zur\u00fcck, bleibt stehen und sieht hinaus.\n\nNach einer Weile kommt Tesman zur\u00fcck und schlie\u00dft die T\u00fcr hinter sich.\n\nTesman hebt die Schuhe vom Boden auf. Nach was siehst Du denn, Hedda?\n\nHedda wieder ruhig und sich beherrschend. Ich sehe mir nur das Laub an. Es ist so gelb. Und so welk.\n\nTesman packt die Schuhe ein und legt sie auf den Tisch. Wir sind ja doch auch schon stark im September.\n\nHedda wieder unruhig. Freilich ja, \u2013 jetzt sind wir schon im \u2013 im September.\n\nTesman. Sag' mal, kam Dir Tante Julle nicht sonderbar vor? Beinah feierlich? Begreifst Du, was mit ihr los war? Was?\n\nHedda. Ich kenne sie doch kaum. Pflegt sie nicht \u00f6fters so zu sein?\n\nTesman. Nein, nicht _so_ wie heute.\n\nHedda entfernt sich von der Glast\u00fcr. Meinst Du, sie hat die Geschichte mit dem Hut \u00fcbelgenommen?\n\nTesman. Ach, nicht sonderlich. Vielleicht ein klein bi\u00dfchen im ersten Augenblick \u2013\n\nHedda. Was ist das aber auch f\u00fcr eine Manier, den Hut hier im Salon abzutun. So etwas macht man doch nicht.\n\nTesman. Na, Du kannst \u00fcberzeugt sein, Tante Julle tut es nicht wieder.\n\nHedda. \u00dcbrigens will ich es schon wieder gutmachen.\n\nTesman. Ach liebe, gute Hedda, wenn Du das wolltest!\n\nHedda. Wenn Du nachher hingehst, so kannst Du sie ja f\u00fcr den Abend einladen.\n\nTesman. Ja, das werde ich wirklich! Und dann wei\u00df ich noch etwas, womit Du ihr eine riesige Freude machen k\u00f6nntest.\n\nHedda. Nun?\n\nTesman. Wenn Du es \u00fcber Dich bringen k\u00f6nntest, du zu ihr zu sagen. Mir zuliebe, Hedda! Was?\n\nHedda. Nein, nein, Tesman, \u2013 das mu\u00dft Du wirklich nicht von mir verlangen. Ich habe es Dir schon einmal gesagt. Ich will versuchen, sie Tante zu nennen. Und dabei mag es sein Bewenden haben.\n\nTesman. Na ja denn. Ich meine nur, jetzt, wo Du zur Familie geh\u00f6rst \u2013\n\nHedda. Hm, \u2013 ich wei\u00df nun freilich nicht \u2013 sie geht nach dem Hintergrunde zur T\u00fcr\u00f6ffnung.\n\nTesman folgt ihr ein paar Schritte. Ist Dir etwas, Hedda? Was?\n\nHedda. Ich sehe mir nur mein altes Piano an. Das pa\u00dft nicht so recht zu den andern Sachen.\n\nTesman. Wenn ich mein erstes Gehalt erhebe, dann wollen wir es umtauschen.\n\nHedda. Nein, nein, \u2013 nicht umtauschen! Ich will es nicht hergeben. Wir wollen es lieber ins Hinterzimmer stellen. Und hier f\u00fcr den Salon, da k\u00f6nnen wir uns ja ein neues anschaffen. Bei Gelegenheit, meine ich.\n\nTesman etwas verzagt. Ja, \u2013 das k\u00f6nnen wir ja auch tun.\n\nHedda nimmt das auf dem Piano stehende Bukett in die Hand. Diese Blumen standen gestern bei unserer Ankunft nicht hier.\n\nTesman. Die hat Dir gewi\u00df Tante Julle gebracht.\n\nHedda sieht ins Bukett. Eine Visitenkarte. Nimmt sie und liest: \u00bbKommt im Laufe des Tages wieder.\u00ab Err\u00e4tst Du, von wem das ist?\n\nTesman. Nein. Von wem denn? Was?\n\nHedda. Da steht: \u00bbFrau Schulthei\u00df Elvsted\u00ab.\n\nTesman. Ist's m\u00f6glich! Frau Elvsted! Fr\u00e4ulein Rysing, wie sie fr\u00fcher hie\u00df.\n\nHedda. Allerdings. Die herumlief und Aufsehen erregte mit einem Haar, das einen nerv\u00f6s machen konnte. Deine alte Flamme, wie ich mir habe sagen lassen.\n\nTesman lacht. Na, das war bald wieder aus. Und dann war es doch auch, bevor ich _Dich_ kannte, Hedda. Aber denk nur \u2013 _die_ ist in der Stadt!\n\nHedda. Merkw\u00fcrdig, da\u00df sie bei uns Besuch macht. Ich kenne sie ja doch nicht weiter als vom Institut her.\n\nTesman. Ich habe sie auch nicht mehr gesehen \u2013 Gott wei\u00df wie lange. Da\u00df sie es da oben aush\u00e4lt in solch einem abgelegenen Nest. Was?\n\nHedda \u00fcberlegt und sagt pl\u00f6tzlich: Sag' mal, Tesman, \u2013 h\u00e4lt _er_ sich nicht da oben irgendwo auf, \u2013 er \u2013 der Ejlert L\u00f6vborg?\n\nTesman. Ja freilich, da oben in der Gegend mu\u00df er sein.\n\nBerte erscheint in der Vorzimmert\u00fcr.\n\nBerte. Gn\u00e4dige Frau, jetzt ist sie wieder da, \u2013 die Dame, die vor einer Weile hier war und die Blumen abgegeben hat. Zeigt hin. Die gn\u00e4dige Frau da in der Hand haben.\n\nHedda. So, so? Lassen Sie sie nur eintreten.\n\nBerte \u00f6ffnet Frau Elvsted die T\u00fcr und geht selbst hinaus. \u2013 Frau Elvsted ist eine zarte Erscheinung mit sch\u00f6nen, weichen Gesichtsformen. Die Augen sind hellblau, gro\u00df und rund, treten etwas hervor und haben einen versch\u00fcchtert fragenden Ausdruck. Das Haar ist auffallend hell, fast wei\u00dflich-blond, und ungew\u00f6hnlich stark und wellig. Sie ist ein paar Jahre j\u00fcnger als Hedda. Sie tr\u00e4gt ein dunkles Besuchskost\u00fcm, das geschmackvoll, aber nicht ganz nach der neuesten Mode ist.\n\nHedda geht ihr freundlich entgegen. Guten Tag, beste Frau Elvsted. Das ist ja reizend, da\u00df Sie sich wieder einmal sehen lassen.\n\nFrau Elvsted nerv\u00f6s, sucht sich zu beherrschen. Ja, es ist furchtbar lange her, da\u00df wir uns nicht gesehen haben.\n\nTesman reicht ihr die Hand. Und wir beide auch. Was?\n\nHedda. Sch\u00f6nen Dank f\u00fcr Ihre herrlichen Blumen \u2013\n\nFrau Elvsted. Ach bitte \u2013. Ich wollte gleich gestern nachmittag kommen. Aber ich h\u00f6rte, Sie w\u00e4ren noch nicht von der Reise zur\u00fcck \u2013\n\nTesman. Sie sind wohl noch nicht lange in der Stadt? Was?\n\nFrau Elvsted. Ich bin gestern gegen Mittag angekommen. Ach, ich bin in helle Verzweiflung geraten, als ich h\u00f6rte, Sie w\u00e4ren nicht da.\n\nHedda. Verzweiflung! Warum das?\n\nTesman. Meine liebste, beste Frau Rysing \u2013 Frau Elvsted wollte ich sagen \u2013\n\nHedda. Es ist doch wohl nicht etwas Schlimmes los?\n\nFrau Elvsted. Allerdings. Und ich wei\u00df keine Menschenseele hier, an die ich mich sonst wenden k\u00f6nnte.\n\nHedda legt das Bukett auf den Tisch. Kommen Sie, \u2013 wir wollen uns aufs Sofa setzen \u2013\n\nFrau Elvsted. Ach, ich habe zum Sitzen nicht Rast noch Ruh'.\n\nHedda. Ach, das werden Sie schon haben. Kommen Sie nur.\n\nSie n\u00f6tigt Frau Elvsted aufs Sofa und setzt sich neben sie.\n\nTesman. Na? Also, gn\u00e4dige Frau \u2013?\n\nHedda. Ist etwas Besonderes da oben bei Ihnen vorgefallen?\n\nFrau Elvsted. Ja \u2013 und auch wieder nicht. Ach \u2013 ich w\u00fcnschte von Herzen, Sie m\u00f6chten mich nicht mi\u00dfverstehen \u2013\n\nHedda. Aber, dann w\u00e4re es wirklich das richtigste, wenn Sie mit der Sprache herausk\u00e4men, Frau Elvsted.\n\nTesman. Denn deswegen sind Sie doch wohl gekommen. Was?\n\nFrau Elvsted. Ja, ja, \u2013 freilich. Und so will ich Ihnen denn sagen, \u2013 wenn Sie es nicht schon wissen, \u2013 Ejlert L\u00f6vborg ist auch in der Stadt.\n\nHedda. L\u00f6vborg \u2013!\n\nTesman. Was! Ejlert L\u00f6vborg ist wieder da! Denk nur, Hedda!\n\nHedda. Mein Gott, ich h\u00f6r' es ja.\n\nFrau Elvsted. Er ist schon seit einer ganzen Woche hier. Der Gedanke \u2013 eine ganze Woche! In dieser gef\u00e4hrlichen Stadt. Allein! Wo es hier so viele schlechte Gesellschaft gibt.\n\nHedda. Aber beste Frau Elvsted, \u2013 was geht er Sie eigentlich an?\n\nFrau Elvsted sieht sie versch\u00fcchtert an und sagt schnell: Er ist der Lehrer von den Kindern gewesen.\n\nHedda. Von Ihren Kindern?\n\nFrau Elvsted. Von meines Mannes Kindern. Ich habe keine.\n\nHedda. Also von Ihren Stiefkindern.\n\nFrau Elvsted. Ja.\n\nTesman nach dem rechten Ausdruck suchend. War er denn so weit \u2013 ich wei\u00df nicht, wie ich mich ausdr\u00fccken soll, \u2013 so weit \u2013 regelm\u00e4\u00dfig in seinem Lebenswandel, da\u00df man ihm _so_ etwas anvertrauen konnte? Was?\n\nFrau Elvsted. In den letzten paar Jahren war nichts an ihm auszusetzen.\n\nTesman. Wirklich nicht? Denk nur, Hedda!\n\nHedda. Ich h\u00f6r' es.\n\nFrau Elvsted. Nicht das geringste, versichere ich Ihnen! In jeder Hinsicht. Trotzdem aber \u2013. Jetzt, da ich ihn hier wei\u00df \u2013 in der gro\u00dfen Stadt \u2013. Und das viele Geld in H\u00e4nden. Jetzt habe ich eine Todesangst um ihn.\n\nTesman. Aber warum ist er dann nicht lieber da geblieben, wo er war? Bei Ihnen und Ihrem Mann? Was?\n\nFrau Elvsted. Als das Buch erschienen war, da hatte er bei uns keine Rast und Ruhe mehr.\n\nTesman. Ist ja wahr, \u2013 Tante Julle sagte, er h\u00e4tte ein neues Buch ver\u00f6ffentlicht.\n\nFrau Elvsted. Ja, ein gro\u00dfes neues Buch, das von der Kulturentwicklung handelt \u2013 so im allgemeinen. Es ist so etwa vierzehn Tage her. Und wie es nun so viel gekauft und gelesen wurde \u2013 und so ungew\u00f6hnliches Aufsehen machte \u2013\n\nTesman. So, das war also der Fall? Dann mu\u00df es wohl etwas gewesen sein, was er noch aus seinen guten Tagen liegen hatte.\n\nFrau Elvsted. Von fr\u00fcher her, meinen Sie?\n\nTesman. Jawohl.\n\nFrau Elvsted. Nein, er hat es von A bis Z oben bei uns geschrieben. Jetzt \u2013 im letzten Jahre.\n\nTesman. Das ist ja erfreulich zu h\u00f6ren, Hedda! Denk nur, Du!\n\nFrau Elvsted. Ach ja, wenn es nur Bestand haben m\u00f6chte!\n\nHedda. Haben Sie ihn hier schon gesehen?\n\nFrau Elvsted. Nein, noch nicht. Ich hatte so gro\u00dfe M\u00fche damit, seine Adresse zu ermitteln. Aber heut Morgen habe ich sie endlich bekommen.\n\nHedda sieht sie pr\u00fcfend an. Im Grunde finde ich es ein bi\u00dfchen sonderbar von Ihrem Mann \u2013 hm \u2013\n\nFrau Elvsted zuckt nerv\u00f6s zusammen. Von meinem Mann? Was denn?\n\nHedda. Da\u00df er _Sie_ mit einem solchen Auftrag in die Stadt schickt. Da\u00df er nicht selbst herkommt und seinen Freund aufsucht.\n\nFrau Elvsted. Ach nein, nein, \u2013 mein Mann hat dazu keine Zeit. Und dann hatte ich \u2013 auch einige Eink\u00e4ufe zu machen.\n\nHedda l\u00e4chelt fl\u00fcchtig. Nun, das ist ja dann etwas anderes.\n\nFrau Elvsted steht rasch und in Unruhe auf. Und nun bitte ich Sie hoch und heilig, Herr Tesman, \u2013 nehmen Sie L\u00f6vborg freundlich auf, wenn er zu Ihnen kommt! Und das tut er sicher. Mein Gott, \u2013 Sie sind ja fr\u00fcher so gute Freunde gewesen. Und \u00fcberdies treiben Sie ja beide ganz dieselben Studien. Dieselben Wissenschaften, \u2013 soweit ich das beurteilen kann.\n\nTesman. Na, fr\u00fcher war das wenigstens der Fall.\n\nFrau Elvsted. Ja, und deshalb bitte ich Sie inst\u00e4ndig, haben doch auch Sie, um Gotteswillen, ein wachsames Auge auf ihn. Nicht wahr, Herr Tesman, \u2013 das versprechen Sie mir doch?\n\nTesman. Ja, von Herzen gern, Frau Rysing \u2013\n\nHedda. Elvsted.\n\nTesman. Ich will gern f\u00fcr Ejlert alles tun, was in meiner Macht steht. Darauf k\u00f6nnen Sie sich verlassen.\n\nFrau Elvsted. Ach, wie lieb und gut das von Ihnen ist! Dr\u00fcckt ihm die H\u00e4nde. Ich danke, danke, danke Ihnen! Erschrocken. Mein Mann h\u00e4lt ja doch so furchtbar viel von ihm.\n\nHedda steht auf. Du solltest ihm schreiben, Tesman. Denn vielleicht kommt er nicht von selbst zu Dir.\n\nTesman. Ja, das w\u00e4re wohl das Richtigste, Hedda? Was?\n\nHedda. Und je fr\u00fcher Du es tust, desto besser. Am liebsten gleich auf der Stelle.\n\nFrau Elvsted bittend. Ach ja, wenn Sie das tun wollten!\n\nTesman. Ich schreibe im Augenblick. Haben Sie seine Adresse, Frau \u2013 Frau Elvsted?\n\nFrau Elvsted. Ja. Reicht ihm einen kleinen Zettel, den sie aus der Tasche zieht. Da ist sie.\n\nTesman. Gut, gut. Ich gehe hinein \u2013 sieht sich um. Ja so, die Pantoffeln? Ah, dort. Nimmt das P\u00e4ckchen und will gehen.\n\nHedda. Schreib ihm nur recht warm und freundschaftlich. Und auch recht ausf\u00fchrlich.\n\nTesman. Ja, das will ich.\n\nFrau Elvsted. Aber bitte,, bitte, kein Wort davon, da\u00df ich f\u00fcr ihn gebeten habe!\n\nTesman. Nein, das versteht sich doch von selbst. Was? Er geht durch das Hinterzimmer rechts ab.\n\nHedda geht auf Frau Elvsted zu, l\u00e4chelt und sagt mit ged\u00e4mpfter Stimme: So! Da haben wir zwei Fliegen mit einer Klappe geschlagen.\n\nFrau Elvsted. Wie meinen Sie das?\n\nHedda. Haben Sie nicht begriffen, da\u00df ich ihn weg haben wollte?\n\nFrau Elvsted. Ja, damit er den Brief schreibt \u2013\n\nHedda. Und auch, damit ich mit Ihnen allein sprechen kann.\n\nFrau Elvsted verwirrt. Von derselben Sache?\n\nHedda Ja, eben davon.\n\nFrau Elvsted angstvoll. Aber da _ist_ ja nichts mehr, Frau Tesman. Wirklich nichts mehr.\n\nHedda. O freilich ist noch mehr, \u2013 noch bedeutend mehr. So viel verstehe ich denn doch davon. Kommen Sie, \u2013 wir wollen uns recht gem\u00fctlich zu einander setzen. Sie n\u00f6tigt Frau Elvsted in den Lehnstuhl am Ofen und setzt sich selbst auf eins von den Taburetts.\n\nFrau Elvsted \u00e4ngstlich, sieht auf ihre Uhr. Aber meine liebe, gute Frau Tesman \u2013. Ich hatte eigentlich vor, jetzt zu gehen.\n\nHedda. Ach, das eilt doch nicht so sehr. \u2013 Wie ? Nun erz\u00e4hlen Sie mir einmal, wie es bei Ihnen zu Hause geht.\n\nFrau Elvsted. Ach, gerade das m\u00f6chte ich am allerwenigsten ber\u00fchren.\n\nHedda. Aber mir gegen\u00fcber doch, meine Liebe \u2013 ? Mein Gott, wir sind doch zusammen ins Institut gegangen.\n\nFrau Elvsted. Ja, aber Sie waren eine Klasse \u00fcber mir. Ach, was f\u00fcr eine gr\u00e4\u00dfliche Angst hatte ich damals vor Ihnen!\n\nHedda. Angst hatten Sie \u2013 vor mir?\n\nFrau Elvsted. Ja. Eine gr\u00e4\u00dfliche Angst. Denn wenn Sie mir auf der Treppe begegneten, dann rauften Sie mich immer bei den Haaren.\n\nHedda. Wirklich? Das habe ich getan?\n\nFrau Elvsted. Ja, und einmal sagten Sie, Sie w\u00fcrden es mir absengen.\n\nHedda. Ach, das war doch blo\u00df so geredet, wissen Sie.\n\nFrau Elvsted. Ja, aber ich war damals noch so dumm. \u2013 Und seitdem jedenfalls \u2013 sind wir so weit \u2013 weit auseinander gekommen. Unsere Kreise waren doch so ganz verschieden.\n\nHedda. Na, so wollen wir versuchen, einander wieder n\u00e4her zu r\u00fccken. Nun h\u00f6ren Sie einmal! Im Institut sagten wir doch Du zu einander. Und dann nannten wir uns beim Vornamen \u2013\n\nFrau Elvsted. Nein, da irren Sie sich gewi\u00df.\n\nHedda. Nein, durchaus nicht. Ich erinnere mich noch ganz genau. Und darum wollen wir auch jetzt intim sein, wie in den fr\u00fcheren Tagen. R\u00fcckt mit dem Taburett n\u00e4her heran. So! K\u00fc\u00dft sie auf die Wange. Jetzt sagst Du Du zu mir und nennst mich Hedda.\n\nFrau Elvsted dr\u00fcckt und streichelt ihr die H\u00e4nde. Ach, so viel G\u00fcte und Freundlichkeit \u2013! An so etwas bin ich gar nicht gew\u00f6hnt.\n\nHedda. So, so, so! Und ich sage Du zu Dir, gerade so wie fr\u00fcher, und nenne Dich meine liebe Thora.\n\nFrau Elvsted. Thea hei\u00dfe ich.\n\nHedda. Ja, richtig. Nat\u00fcrlich. Thea wollte ich sagen. Sieht sie teilnehmend an. So, \u2013 Du bist so wenig an G\u00fcte und Freundlichkeit gew\u00f6hnt, Thea ? Bei _Dir_ zu Hause?\n\nFrau Elvsted. Ach, wenn ich nur ein \u00bbzu Hause\u00ab h\u00e4tte! Aber ich habe keins. Habe nie eins gehabt.\n\nHedda blickt sie ein wenig an. Ich hatte eine Ahnung, da\u00df es so etwas sein m\u00fcsse.\n\nFrau Elvsted starrt hilflos vor sich hin. Ja, \u2013 ja, \u2013 ja.\n\nHedda. Ich kann mich nicht mehr so genau entsinnen \u2013 aber bist Du nicht urspr\u00fcnglich als Haush\u00e4lterin zu Elvsteds gekommen?\n\nFrau Elvsted. Eigentlich sollte ich als Gouvernante hinkommen. Aber seine Frau, \u2013 die damalige Frau, \u2013 war kr\u00e4nklich, \u2013 und meistens bettl\u00e4gerig. So mu\u00dfte ich mich auch der Wirtschaft annehmen.\n\nHedda. Aber dann,\u2013 zuletzt, \u2013 wurdest Du die Frau des Hauses.\n\nFrau Elvsted gedr\u00fcckt. Ja, dann wurde ich es.\n\nHedda. La\u00df einmal sehen \u2013. Wie lange ist das nun ungef\u00e4hr her?\n\nFrau Elvsted. Da\u00df ich verheiratet bin?\n\nHedda. Ja.\n\nFrau Elvsted. Das ist nun f\u00fcnf Jahre her.\n\nHedda. Ja, richtig; so lange mu\u00df es sein.\n\nFrau Elvsted. Ach diese f\u00fcnf Jahre \u2013! Oder eigentlich die zwei \u2013 drei letzten! Ach, wenn Sie sich vorstellen k\u00f6nnten \u2013\n\nHedda klopft sie leicht auf die Hand. _Sie?_ Pfui, Thea!\n\nFrau Elvsted. Nein, nein, ich will es versuchen. \u2013 Ja, wenn \u2013 wenn Du nur ahnen und begreifen k\u00f6nntest \u2013\n\nHedda leichthin. Ejlert L\u00f6vborg ist ja auch so an die drei Jahre, glaube ich, da oben gewesen.\n\nFrau Elvsted sieht sie unsicher an. Ejlert L\u00f6vborg? Ja \u2013 das ist er.\n\nHedda. Hast Du ihn schon von der Stadt her gekannt?\n\nFrau Elvsted. So gut wie gar nicht. Das hei\u00dft, \u2013 dem Namen nach, nat\u00fcrlich.\n\nHedda. Aber da oben, \u2013 da kam er also ins Haus zu Euch?\n\nFrau Elvsted. Ja, er kam jeden Tag zu uns her\u00fcber. Er hatte ja die Kinder zu unterrichten. Denn ich allein konnte auf die Dauer nicht alles bew\u00e4ltigen.\n\nHedda. Ja, das ist begreiflich. \u2013 Und Dein Mann \u2013? Der ist wahrscheinlich oft auf Reisen?\n\nFrau Elvsted. Ja. Sie \u2013 Du kannst Dir wohl denken, er mu\u00df als Schulthei\u00df h\u00e4ufig im Bezirk umherreisen.\n\nHedda lehnt sich an den Stuhlr\u00fccken. Thea, \u2013 arme s\u00fc\u00dfe Thea, \u2013 nun mu\u00dft Du mir aber alles erz\u00e4hlen, \u2013 so wie es ist.\n\nFrau Elvsted. Ja, dann mu\u00dft Du fragen.\n\nHedda. Du, wie _ist_ denn eigentlich Dein Mann, Thea? Ich meine, \u2013 so \u2013 im Umgang. Ist er gut zu Dir?\n\nFrau Elvsted ausweichend. Er hat gewi\u00df die besten Absichten bei allem, was er tut.\n\nHedda. Ich glaube nur, er mu\u00df viel zu alt f\u00fcr Dich sein. Gewi\u00df \u00fcber die zwanzig Jahr \u00e4lter?\n\nFrau Elvsted irritiert. Das auch. Eins kommt zum andern. Alles ist mir an ihm zuwider. Wir haben nicht _einen_ Gedanken gemeinsam. Aber auch absolut gar nichts, \u2013 er und ich.\n\nHedda. Aber hat er Dich nicht trotzdem gern? So auf _seine_ Art.\n\nFrau Elvsted. Ach was wei\u00df ich. Er sieht in mir sicher nur etwas, das ihm n\u00fctzt. Und dann kostet es nicht viel, mich zu halten. Ich bin billig.\n\nHedda. Das ist dumm von Dir.\n\nFrau Elvsted sch\u00fcttelt den Kopf. Ist nun einmal nicht anders. Mit ihm nicht. So recht lieb hat er gewi\u00df nur sich selbst. Und vielleicht die Kinder ein bi\u00dfchen.\n\nHedda. Und Ejlert L\u00f6vborg auch, Thea.\n\nFrau Elvsted sieht sie an. Ejlert L\u00f6vborg! Wie kommst Du darauf?\n\nHedda. Aber, meine Liebe, \u2013 ich meine doch, wenn Dein Mann Dich so weit hinter ihm herschickt \u2013 bis hierher \u2013 l\u00e4chelt fast unmerklich. Und au\u00dferdem hast Du es doch selbst zu Tesman gesagt.\n\nFrau Elvsted mit nerv\u00f6sem Zucken. Ach So! Ja, das mag wohl sein. Sagt mit innerer Erregung, doch in ged\u00e4mpftem Ton: Nein, \u2013 ich kann es Dir ebenso gut auch gleich sagen! Denn es kommt ja sowieso ans Tageslicht.\n\nHedda. Aber, meine liebe Thea \u2013?\n\nFrau Elvsted. Na, kurz und gut! Mein Mann hat gar nichts von meiner Abreise gewu\u00dft.\n\nHedda. Was ist das? Dein Mann hat nichts davon gewu\u00dft!\n\nFrau Elvsted. Nat\u00fcrlich nicht. Er war au\u00dferdem nicht zu Hause. War auf Reisen, \u2013 er auch. Ach, ich konnte es nicht l\u00e4nger aushalten, Hedda! Es war ein Ding der Unm\u00f6glichkeit! So allein, wie ich fortan da oben gewesen w\u00e4re.\n\nHedda. Nun? Und?\n\nFrau Elvsted. Und da packte ich etwas von meinen Sachen zusammen, wei\u00dft Du. Das Notwendigste. In aller Stille. Und dann verlie\u00df ich das Haus.\n\nHedda. Ohne weiteres?\n\nFrau Elvsted. Ja. Und fuhr mit der Eisenbahn direkt hierher.\n\nHedda. Aber, meine liebe, gute Thea, \u2013 da\u00df Du Dich das getraut hast!\n\nFrau Elvsted steht auf und geht durchs Zimmer. Ja, was in aller Welt h\u00e4tte ich denn sonst tun sollen!\n\nHedda. Und was, glaubst Du, wird Dein Mann sagen, wenn Du wieder nach Hause kommst?\n\nFrau Elvsted am Tische, sieht sie an. Da hinauf zu _ihm_?\n\nHedda. Jawohl, \u2013 jawohl?\n\nFrau Elvsted. Da hinauf zu ihm gehe ich nie wieder.\n\nHedda steht auf und n\u00e4hert sich ihr. Du bist also \u2013 allen Ernstes, \u2013 auf und davon gegangen?\n\nFrau Elvsted. Ja. Was anderes, meinte ich, blieb mir nicht \u00fcbrig.\n\nHedda. Und \u2013 da\u00df Du so vor den Augen aller Welt davon gegangen bist.\n\nFrau Elvsted. Ach, so etwas l\u00e4\u00dft sich ja doch nicht verheimlichen.\n\nHedda. Und was glaubst Du denn, werden die Leute von Dir sagen, Thea?\n\nFrau Elvsted. Die m\u00f6gen in Gottes Namen sagen, was sie wollen! L\u00e4\u00dft sich m\u00fcde und bedr\u00fcckt aufs Sofa nieder. Denn ich habe nichts anderes getan, als was ich tun mu\u00dfte.\n\nHedda nach kurzer Pause. Was gedenkst Du nun anzufangen? Was hast Du vor?\n\nFrau Elvsted. Das wei\u00df ich noch nicht. Ich wei\u00df nur, ich _mu\u00df_ da leben, wo Ejlert L\u00f6vborg lebt. \u2013 Wenn ich \u00fcberhaupt leben _soll_.\n\nHedda schiebt einen Stuhl vom Tisch heran, setzt sich neben sie und streichelt ihr die H\u00e4nde. Du, Thea, \u2013 wie ist dieses \u2013 dieses Freundschaftsverh\u00e4ltnis \u2013 zwischen Dir und Ejlert L\u00f6vborg entstanden?\n\nFrau Elvsted. Ach, das ist so nach und nach entstanden. Ich gewann so etwas wie Macht \u00fcber ihn.\n\nHedda. So?\n\nFrau Elvsted. Er lie\u00df von seinen alten Gewohnheiten. Nicht, weil ich ihn darum bat. Denn das getraute ich mich nie. Aber er merkte wohl, da\u00df mir so etwas zuwider war. Und so lie\u00df er es.\n\nHedda verbirgt ein unwillk\u00fcrliches Hohnl\u00e4cheln. Du hast ihn also, was man so sagt, wiederaufgerichtet \u2013 Du, kleine Thea!\n\nFrau Elvsted. Ja, so behauptet er selbst wenigstens. Und er, \u2013 seinerseits, \u2013 er hat sozusagen einen wirklichen Menschen aus mir gemacht. Mich denken gelehrt \u2013 und allerlei verstehen.\n\nHedda. Hat er _Dir_ vielleicht auch Unterricht gegeben?\n\nFrau Elvsted. Nein, nicht gerade Unterricht. Aber er sprach mit mir. Sprach \u00fcber so unendlich vieles und mannigfaches. Und dann kam die sch\u00f6ne, gl\u00fcckliche Zeit, da ich an seiner Arbeit teilnehmen durfte! Da ich ihm helfen durfte.\n\nHedda. So, das durftest Du?\n\nFrau Elvsted. Ja! Wenn er etwas schrieb, so haben wir das immer zusammen gemacht.\n\nHedda. Wie zwei gute Kameraden also.\n\nFrau Elvsted lebhaft. Kameraden! Ja, denk nur, Hedda, \u2013 so nannte er es auch! \u2013 Ach, ich sollte mich ja wahrhaft froh f\u00fchlen. Aber das kann ich auch nicht. Denn ich wei\u00df ja nicht, ob es von Dauer sein wird.\n\nHedda. Bist Du denn seiner sonst nicht sicher?\n\nFrau Elvsted gedr\u00fcckt. Der Schatten einer Frau steht zwischen L\u00f6vborg und mir.\n\nHedda sieht sie gespannt an. Wer kann das sein?\n\nFrau Elvsted. Wei\u00df nicht. Irgend eine aus \u2013 aus seiner Vergangenheit. Eine, die er gewi\u00df nie so recht hat vergessen k\u00f6nnen.\n\nHedda. Was hat er gesagt \u2013 da r\u00fcber?\n\nFrau Elvsted. Er hat nur ein einziges Mal \u2013 so nebenbei \u2013 darauf hingedeutet.\n\nHedda. Nun? Und was hat er gesagt?\n\nFrau Elvsted. Er hat gesagt, als sie sich trennten, wollte sie ihn mit einer Pistole erschie\u00dfen.\n\nHedda kalt, sich beherrschend. Ach was! So was pflegt man doch hier nicht zu tun.\n\nFrau Elvsted. Nein. Und darum glaube ich, es mu\u00df die rothaarige S\u00e4ngerin gewesen sein, die er eine Zeitlang \u2013\n\nHedda. Ja, das kann wohl sein.\n\nFrau Elvsted. Denn ich erinnere mich, es hie\u00df von ihr, da\u00df sie eine geladene Waffe bei sich f\u00fchre.\n\nHedda. So \u2013 dann war es nat\u00fcrlich die.\n\nFrau Elvsted ringt die H\u00e4nde. Ja aber denk Dir blo\u00df, Hedda, \u2013 ich h\u00f6re, die S\u00e4ngerin, \u2013 die ist wieder in der Stadt! \u2013 Ach, ich bin der Verzweiflung nahe!\n\nHedda blickt verstohlen nach dem Hinterzimmer. Pst! Da kommt Tesman. Steht auf und fl\u00fcstert: Thea, \u2013 alles das mu\u00df zwischen Dir und mir bleiben.\n\nFrau Elvsted springt auf. Ach ja, \u2013 ja! Um Gotteswillen \u2013!\n\nTesman, mit einem Brief in der Hand, kommt von rechts durch das Hinterzimmer.\n\nTesman. So, \u2013 nun ist die Epistel fix und fertig.\n\nHedda. Das ist ja sch\u00f6n. Aber Frau Elvsted will jetzt gehen, glaube ich. Wart' ein wenig! Ich begleite sie bis ans Gartentor.\n\nTesman. Du, Hedda, \u2013 k\u00f6nnte vielleicht Berte das da besorgen?\n\nHedda nimmt den Brief. Ich will es ihr sagen.\n\nBerte kommt vom Vorzimmer.\n\nBerte. Der Herr Assessor Brack ist da und sagt, er m\u00f6chte die Herrschaft gern begr\u00fc\u00dfen.\n\nHedda. Bitten Sie den Herrn Assessor, nur einzutreten. Und dann, \u2013 h\u00f6ren Sie, \u2013 bringen Sie diesen Brief zum Kasten.\n\nBerte nimmt den Brief. Jawohl, gn\u00e4dige Frau.\n\nSie \u00f6ffnet die T\u00fcr dem Assessor Brack und geht ab. Der Assessor ist ein Herr von 45 Jahren. Untersetzt, doch von feiner Gestalt; elastische Bewegungen. Ein rundliches Gesicht mit edlem Profil. Das Haar kurz geschnitten, noch fast schwarz und sorgf\u00e4ltig frisiert. Die Augen lebhaft, beweglich. Die Augenbrauen stark, ebenso der Schnurrbart, mit gestutzten Spitzen. Er tr\u00e4gt einen eleganten Stra\u00dfenanzug, der aber f\u00fcr sein Alter etwas zu jugendlich ist. Hat einen Kneifer auf, den er hin und wieder fallen l\u00e4\u00dft.\n\nBrack, den Hut in der Hand, gr\u00fc\u00dft. Darf man so fr\u00fch am Tage eintreten?\n\nHedda. Freilich darf man das.\n\nTesman dr\u00fcckt ihm die Hand. Sie werden immer willkommen sein! Vorstellend. Herr Assessor Brack \u2013 Fr\u00e4ulein Rysing.\n\nHedda. Oh \u2013!\n\nBrack verbeugt sich. Ah \u2013 freut mich sehr \u2013\n\nHedda sieht ihn an und lacht. Es ist wirklich am\u00fcsant, Sie bei Tageslicht in Augenschein zu nehmen, lieber Assessor.\n\nBrack. Ver\u00e4ndert \u2013 finden Sie vielleicht?\n\nHedda. Ja, etwas j\u00fcnger, glaube ich.\n\nBrack. Danke verbindlichst.\n\nTesman. Aber was sagen Sie zu Hedda! Was? Sieht sie nicht bl\u00fchend aus? Sie ist f\u00f6rmlich \u2013\n\nHedda. Ach, so la\u00df mich doch aus dem Spiel! Danke lieber dem Herrn Assessor f\u00fcr die viele M\u00fche, die er gehabt hat \u2013\n\nBrack. Ach was, \u2013 das war mir nur ein Vergn\u00fcgen \u2013\n\nHedda. Ja, Sie sind eine treue Seele. Aber meine Freundin steht da und brennt darauf, wegzukommen. Auf Wiedersehen, Assessor! Ich bin gleich wieder da.\n\nGegenseitige Verabschiedung. Frau Elvsted und Hedda gehen durch die Vorzimmert\u00fcr hinaus.\n\nBrack. Na, \u2013 ist Ihre Frau so einigerma\u00dfen zufrieden \u2013?\n\nTesman. Ja, wir k\u00f6nnen Ihnen nicht dankbar genug sein. Das hei\u00dft, \u2013 eine kleine Umstellung, h\u00f6re ich, ist hier und da noch n\u00f6tig. Und es fehlt auch noch eines und das andere. Wir werden uns wohl noch ein paar Kleinigkeiten anschaffen m\u00fcssen.\n\nBrack. So? Wirklich?\n\nTesman. Aber da sollen Sie nicht mit behelligt werden. Hedda sagte, sie will selbst das besorgen, was noch fehlt. \u2013 Wollen wir uns nicht setzen? Was?\n\nBrack. Danke sehr; einen kleinen Augenblick. Setzt sich an den Tisch. Ich m\u00f6chte gern mit Ihnen \u00fcber etwas sprechen, lieber Tesman.\n\nTesman. So? Ah, verstehe! Setzt sich. Jetzt kommt vermutlich der _ernste_ Teil des Festes an die Reihe? Was?\n\nBrack. Ach, mit den Geldangelegenheiten eilt es nicht so sehr. \u00dcbrigens h\u00e4tte ich allerdings gew\u00fcnscht, wir h\u00e4tten uns ein bi\u00dfchen einfacher eingerichtet.\n\nTesman. Aber das w\u00e4re doch durchaus nicht gegangen. Vergessen Sie doch Hedda nicht, mein Lieber! Sie kennen ja doch Hedda so gut \u2013. Ich konnte ihr doch nicht einen so ganz kleinb\u00fcrgerlichen Hausstand anbieten.\n\nBrack. Nein, nein, \u2013 da liegt der Hase im Pfeffer.\n\nTesman. Und dann \u2013 gl\u00fccklicherweise \u2013 kann es ja auch nicht mehr lange dauern, bis ich meine Ernennung bekomme.\n\nBrack. Ach, wissen Sie, \u2013 so etwas kann sich oft sehr in die L\u00e4nge ziehen.\n\nTesman. Haben Sie am Ende etwas N\u00e4heres geh\u00f6rt? Was?\n\nBrack. Nicht etwas ganz Bestimmtes \u2013. Abbrechend. Doch, ist ja wahr, \u2013 eine Neuigkeit kann ich Ihnen erz\u00e4hlen.\n\nTesman. Na?\n\nBrack. Ihr alter Freund, Ejlert L\u00f6vborg, ist wieder in der Stadt.\n\nTesman. Das wei\u00df ich schon.\n\nBrack. So? Woher haben Sie es denn erfahren?\n\nTesman. Die Dame da hat es erz\u00e4hlt, die eben mit Hedda hinausging.\n\nBrack. So \u2013 so! Wie hie\u00df sie doch? Ich habe nicht ordentlich geh\u00f6rt \u2013\n\nTesman. Frau Elvsted.\n\nBrack. Aha \u2013 so, die Frau des Schulthei\u00dfen. Ja, \u2013 bei denen da oben hat er sich ja aufgehalten.\n\nTesman. Und denken Sie mal, \u2013 da h\u00f6re ich zu meiner gro\u00dfen Freude, da\u00df er wieder ein ganz ordentlicher Mensch geworden ist!\n\nBrack. Ja, das behauptet man ja.\n\nTesman. Und er soll ja ein neues Buch herausgegeben haben. Was?\n\nBrack. Na, und ob!\n\nTesman. Und Aufsehen hat es ja auch gemacht!\n\nBrack. Ganz ungew\u00f6hnliches Aufsehen hat es gemacht.\n\nTesman. Denken Sie nur! \u2013 Ist das nicht eine Freude zu h\u00f6ren? Er, mit seinen merkw\u00fcrdigen F\u00e4higkeiten \u2013. Ich war schon, zu meinem Bedauern, davon \u00fcberzeugt, da\u00df er um die Ecke gegangen w\u00e4re.\n\nBrack. Das war auch die allgemeine Ansicht.\n\nTesman. Ich begreife nur nicht, was er jetzt anfangen wird. Wovon in aller Welt will er denn leben? Was?\n\nHedda ist w\u00e4hrend der letzten Worte wieder durch die Vorzimmert\u00fcr eingetreten.\n\nHedda zu Brack, etwas h\u00f6hnisch l\u00e4chelnd. Den lieben langen Tag macht sich Tesman dar\u00fcber Sorgen, wovon man leben soll.\n\nTesman. Herrgott, Du, \u2013 wir reden ja doch von dem armen Ejlert L\u00f6vborg.\n\nHedda sieht ihn rasch an. Ah So? Setzt sich in den Lehnstuhl und fragt gleichg\u00fcltig: Was ist denn mit dem los?\n\nTesman. Na, \u2013 sein Erbteil hat er gewi\u00df schon l\u00e4ngst durchgebracht. Und ein nettes Buch kann er wohl auch nicht jedes Jahr schreiben. Was? Na, \u2013 da frage ich wirklich, was aus ihm werden soll.\n\nBrack. Dar\u00fcber k\u00f6nnte ich Ihnen vielleicht etwas erz\u00e4hlen.\n\nTesman. Na?\n\nBrack. Sie d\u00fcrfen nicht vergessen, er hat Verwandte, die nicht wenig Einflu\u00df haben.\n\nTesman. Ach \u2013 die Verwandten, \u2013 die haben ihn ja leider ganz fallen lassen.\n\nBrack. Fr\u00fcher haben sie ihn doch die Hoffnung der Familie genannt.\n\nTesman. Ja, fr\u00fcher! Aber das hat er doch selbst verscherzt.\n\nHedda. Wer wei\u00df? L\u00e4chelt leicht. Oben bei Elvsteds hat man ihn ja wiederaufgerichtet \u2013\n\nBrack. Und dazu das Buch, das herausgekommen ist \u2013\n\nTesman. Ja, ja, Gott gebe, man k\u00f6nnte ihm wirklich auf irgend eine Weise helfen. Ich habe eben an ihn geschrieben. Du, Hedda, ich habe ihn eingeladen, heut Abend zu uns heraus zu kommen.\n\nBrack. Aber, mein Bester, Sie wollten doch heute zu meinem Junggesellenschmaus kommen. Das haben Sie mir doch gestern auf der Landungsbr\u00fccke versprochen.\n\nHedda. Hattest Du das vergessen, Tesman?\n\nTesman. Wei\u00df der liebe Gott, ja!\n\nBrack. \u00dcbrigens k\u00f6nnen Sie ganz ruhig sein, \u2013 er kommt nicht.\n\nTesman. Wieso glauben Sie? Was?\n\nBrack etwas z\u00f6gernd, steht auf und st\u00fctzt die H\u00e4nde auf die Stuhllehne. Lieber Tesman \u2013. Und auch Sie, Frau Tesman \u2013. Ich kann es nicht verantworten, Sie in Unkenntnis zu lassen \u00fcber eine Sache, die \u2013 die \u2013\n\nTesman. Die Ejlert betrifft \u2013?\n\nBrack. Sie und ihn.\n\nTesman. Aber, lieber Assessor, so sprechen Sie doch!\n\nBrack. Sie m\u00fcssen darauf vorbereitet sein, da\u00df Ihre Ernennung vielleicht nicht so rasch erfolgt, wie Sie w\u00fcnschen und erwarten.\n\nTesman springt unruhig auf. Ist irgend etwas passiert? Was?\n\nBrack. Die Besetzung der Stelle d\u00fcrfte vielleicht abh\u00e4ngig gemacht werden von einer Konkurrenz \u2013\n\nTesman. Konkurrenz! Denk nur, Hedda!\n\nHedda lehnt sich weiter zur\u00fcck in den Stuhl. Ah, schau, \u2013 schau!\n\nTesman. Aber mit wem denn! Doch wohl nie und nimmer mit \u2013?\n\nBrack. Allerdings. Mit Ejlert L\u00f6vborg.\n\nTesman schl\u00e4gt die H\u00e4nde zusammen. Nein, nein, \u2013 das ist ja ganz undenkbar! Ein Ding der Unm\u00f6glichkeit! Was?\n\nBrack. Hm, \u2013 wir k\u00f6nnen es vielleicht _doch_ erleben.\n\nTesman. Aber, mein lieber Assessor, \u2013 das w\u00e4re ja doch die unglaublichste R\u00fccksichtslosigkeit gegen mich! Ficht mit den Armen. Denn \u2013 denken Sie doch, \u2013 ich bin ja ein verheirateter Mann! Wir haben ja doch auf die Aussichten hin geheiratet, Hedda und ich. Sind hingegangen und haben eine Masse Schulden gemacht. Und auch von Tante Julle Geld geliehen. Herrgott, \u2013 ich hatte ja doch die Anstellung so gut wie in der Tasche. Was?\n\nBrack. Na, na, na, \u2013 die Anstellung bekommen Sie wahrscheinlich auch. Aber erst nach einem Wettstreit.\n\nHedda unbeweglich im Lehnstuhl. Denk nur, Tesman \u2013 das wird beinah eine Art Sport.\n\nTesman. Aber liebste Hedda, wie kannst Du das nur so gleichg\u00fcltig aufnehmen!\n\nHedda wie oben. Das tue ich gar nicht. Ich bin wirklich gespannt auf den Ausgang.\n\nBrack. In jedem Fall, Frau Tesman, ist es gut, da\u00df Sie jetzt wissen, wie die Dinge stehen. Ich meine, \u2013 ehe Sie loslegen, die kleinen Eink\u00e4ufe zu machen, mit denen Sie drohen, wie ich h\u00f6re.\n\nHedda. Das kann daran nichts \u00e4ndern.\n\nBrack. Ach so? Das ist etwas anderes. Adieu! Zu Tesman. Wenn ich meinen Nachmittagsspaziergang mache, komm' ich vor und hole Sie ab.\n\nTesman. Ach ja, ja, \u2013 ich wei\u00df weder, aus noch ein.\n\nHedda zur\u00fcckgelehnt, streckt die Hand aus. Adieu, lieber Assessor! Und auf baldiges Wiedersehen.\n\nBrack. Besten Dank. Adieu, adieu!\n\nTesman begleitet ihn bis zur T\u00fcr. Adieu, lieber Assessor! Sie m\u00fcssen mich schon entschuldigen \u2013\n\nBrack geht durch die Vorzimmert\u00fcr hinaus.\n\nTesman geht durchs Zimmer. Ach Hedda, \u2013 man sollte sich doch wirklich nicht hineinwagen ins Land der Abenteuer. Was?\n\nHedda sieht ihn an und l\u00e4chelt. Tust _Du das_?\n\nTesman. Ja, h\u00f6r' mal \u2013 es l\u00e4\u00dft sich nicht leugnen, \u2013 es _war_ abenteuerlich, hinzugehen und zu heiraten und Haus und Herd zu gr\u00fcnden auf lauter leere Aussichten hin.\n\nHedda. Da hast Du am Ende recht.\n\nTesman. Na, unser gem\u00fctliches Heim, das haben wir jedenfalls, Hedda! Denk Dir, \u2013 das Heim, das wir beide uns immer ertr\u00e4umt haben. Wof\u00fcr wir geschw\u00e4rmt haben, m\u00f6chte ich fast sagen. Was?\n\nHedda steht auf, langsam und m\u00fcde. Es war doch die Abrede, da\u00df wir gesellig leben \u2013 ein Haus machen wollten.\n\nTesman. Herrgott, ja, \u2013 und wie hatte ich mich darauf gefreut! Denk nur, \u2013 Dich als Frau des Hauses zu sehen, \u2013 in einem auserw\u00e4hlten Kreis! Was? \u2013 Ja, ja, ja, \u2013 vorl\u00e4ufig m\u00fcssen wir beide also allein und einsam haushalten, Hedda. D\u00fcrfen h\u00f6chstens Tante Julle zwischendurch einmal bei uns sehen. \u2013 Ach, und wie ganz \u2013 ganz anders h\u00e4ttest Du es doch haben sollen \u2013!\n\nHedda. Den Diener in Livree bekomme ich nat\u00fcrlich nun f\u00fcrs erste nicht.\n\nTesman. Ach nein \u2013 leider. Einen Bedienten halten, \u2013 davon, sieh mal, kann doch unm\u00f6glich die Rede sein.\n\nHedda. Und das Reitpferd, das ich haben sollte \u2013\n\nTesman erschrocken. Das Reitpferd!\n\nHedda. \u2013 an das darf ich jetzt wohl nicht einmal denken.\n\nTesman. I Gott bewahre, nein \u2013 das versteht sich doch von selbst.\n\nHedda geht im Zimmer auf und ab. Na, \u2013 _etwas_ habe ich doch jedenfalls, um mich inzwischen aufzuheitern.\n\nTesman freudestrahlend. Ach, Gott sei Lob und Dank! Und was ist denn das, Hedda? Was?\n\nHedda an der T\u00fcr\u00f6ffnung, sieht ihn mit unterdr\u00fccktem Hohn an. Meine Pistolen, \u2013 J\u00f6rgen.\n\nTesman in Angst. Die Pistolen!\n\nHedda mit kalten Augen. General Gablers Pistolen.\n\nSie geht durch das Hinterzimmer nach links ab.\n\nTesman l\u00e4uft zur T\u00fcr\u00f6ffnung und ruft ihr nach: Aber um Gotteswillen, liebste Hedda, \u2013 la\u00df die H\u00e4nde von den gef\u00e4hrlichen Dingern! Mir zuliebe, Hedda! Was?\n\n### Zweiter Akt\n\nInhaltsverzeichnis\n\nDas Zimmer bei Tesmans, wie im ersten Akt; nur da\u00df das Piano nicht mehr da ist und an dessen Stelle ein eleganter kleiner Schreibtisch mit B\u00fccherfach steht. An das Sofa links ist ein kleiner Tisch gestellt. Die meisten Blumenbuketts sind entfernt. Frau Elvsteds Bukett steht auf dem gr\u00f6\u00dferen Tisch im Vordergrunde. \u2013 Es ist Nachmittag.\n\nHedda, die jetzt Empfangstoilette tr\u00e4gt, ist allein im Zimmer. Sie steht an der offenen Glast\u00fcr und ladet einen Revolver. Ein zweiter ganz gleicher liegt in einem offenen Pistolenkasten auf dem Schreibtisch.\n\nHedda sieht in den Garten hinunter und ruft: Zum zweiten Mal guten Tag, Herr, Assessor!\n\nBrack wird unten aus einiger Entfernung vernehmbar. Gleichfalls, Frau Tesman.\n\nHedda erhebt die Pistole und zielt. Jetzt erschie\u00dfe ich Sie, Herr Assessor.\n\nBrack ruft unten: Nein \u2013 nein \u2013 nein! Zielen Sie doch nicht so direkt auf mich!\n\nHedda. Das kommt davon, wenn man versteckte Wege geht!\n\nSie schie\u00dft.\n\nBrack n\u00e4her. Sind Sie denn ganz verr\u00fcckt \u2013!\n\nHedda. Mein Gott, \u2013 habe ich Sie vielleicht getroffen?\n\nBrack immer noch drau\u00dfen. Lassen Sie doch die dummen Witze!\n\nHedda. So kommen Sie herein, Assessor!\n\nBrack, gekleidet wie zu einer Herrengesellschaft, einen Sommer\u00fcberzieher \u00fcber dem Arm, kommt durch die Glast\u00fcr.\n\nBrack. Donnerwetter \u2013 treiben Sie den Sport noch immer? Wonach schie\u00dfen Sie denn eigentlich?\n\nHedda. O, ich stehe nur da und schie\u00dfe in die blaue Luft hinein.\n\nBrack nimmt ihr sanft die Pistole aus der Hand. Erlauben Sie mal, gn\u00e4dige Frau. Betrachtet die Pistole. Ach, _die_ , \u2013 die kenne ich gut. Sieht sich um. Wo haben wir denn den Kasten? So, hier. Legt die Pistole hinein und macht den Deckel zu. F\u00fcr heute mag es nun genug sein des grausamen Spiels.\n\nHedda. Ja, was in Gottesnamen, glauben Sie denn, soll ich anfangen?\n\nBrack. Haben Sie keinen Besuch gehabt?\n\nHedda schlie\u00dft die Glast\u00fcr. Keinen einzigen. Alle die Intimen sind wohl noch auf dem Lande.\n\nBrack. Und Tesman ist am Ende auch nicht zu Hause?\n\nHedda am Schreibtisch, schlie\u00dft den Pistolenkasten in die Schublade ein. Nein. Wie er das Essen herunter hatte, da lief er gleich zu den Tanten hin. Denn er erwartete Sie nicht so fr\u00fch.\n\nBrack. Hm, \u2013 h\u00e4tt' es mir auch denken k\u00f6nnen. Das war dumm von mir.\n\nHedda wendet den Kopf und sieht ihn an. Wieso dumm?\n\nBrack. Ach, sonst w\u00e4r' ich noch ein bi\u00dfchen \u2013 fr\u00fcher gekommen.\n\nHedda durchmi\u00dft das Zimmer. Ja, da h\u00e4tten Sie aber erst recht niemand getroffen. Denn ich war nach Tisch auf meinem Zimmer und habe mich umgekleidet.\n\nBrack. Und gibt es da nicht so einen ganz kleinen T\u00fcrspalt, durch den man h\u00e4tte verhandeln k\u00f6nnen?\n\nHedda. Sie haben ja vergessen, so etwas anbringen zu lassen.\n\nBrack. Das war _auch_ dumm von mir.\n\nHedda. Dann wollen wir uns also hier h\u00e4uslich niederlassen. Und warten. Denn Tesman kommt gewi\u00df so bald nicht wieder.\n\nBrack. Ja-ja, mein Gott, ich werde die Geduld nicht verlieren.\n\nHedda setzt sich in die Sofaecke. Brack legt seinen Paletot \u00fcber den R\u00fccken des n\u00e4chststehenden Stuhles und setzt sich, beh\u00e4lt aber den Hut in der Hand. Kurze Pause. Sie sehen einander an.\n\nHedda. Nun?\n\nBrack in gleichem Ton. Nun?\n\nHedda. Ich habe zuerst gefragt.\n\nBrack beugt sich etwas vorn\u00fcber. Na, dann wollen wir uns mal ein bi\u00dfchen gem\u00fctlich unterhalten, Frau Hedda!\n\nHedda lehnt sich weiter zur\u00fcck ins Sofa. Kommt es Ihnen nicht wie eine ganze Ewigkeit vor, seit wir uns zuletzt gesprochen haben? \u2013 Denn die paar Worte gestern abend und heut fr\u00fch \u2013 die rechne ich nicht weiter mit.\n\nBrack. So \u2013 allein? Unter vier Augen?\n\nHedda. Ja. So ungef\u00e4hr.\n\nBrack. Jeden lieben Tag habe ich gew\u00fcnscht, Sie m\u00f6chten nur erst wieder gl\u00fccklich zu Hause sein.\n\nHedda. Und ich habe wirklich die ganze Zeit nur denselben Wunsch gehabt.\n\nBrack. Sie? Wahrhaftig, Frau Hedda? Und ich glaubte doch, Sie h\u00e4tten sich so wunderbar auf der Reise am\u00fcsiert!\n\nHedda. Jawohl, glauben Sie das nur!\n\nBrack. Aber Tesman hat das doch immerzu geschrieben.\n\nHedda. Ja, _er_! Denn er wei\u00df nun einmal nichts Sch\u00f6neres auf der Welt, als in Bibliotheken herumzust\u00f6bern. Und sich hinzusetzen und alte Pergamentbl\u00e4tter abzuschreiben \u2013 oder sonst dergleichen.\n\nBrack etwas boshaft. Na, das ist doch sein Beruf hier auf Erden. Zum Teil wenigstens.\n\nHedda. Ja, das ist wahr. Und da kann man freilich \u2013. Aber _ich_! Ach nein, lieber Assessor \u2013 ich habe mich greulich gelangweilt.\n\nBrack teilnahmsvoll. Meinen Sie das wirklich \u2013 in vollem Ernst?\n\nHedda. Ja, das k\u00f6nnen Sie sich doch selber sagen \u2013! So ganze sechs Monate keinem Menschen zu begegnen, der ein bi\u00dfchen was wei\u00df von _unserm_ Kreise. Und mit dem man \u00fcber unsere eigenen Angelegenheiten reden kann.\n\nBrack. Ja-ja, \u2013 das w\u00fcrde auch ich recht sehr vermissen.\n\nHedda. Und nun das Aller-, Allerunertr\u00e4glichste.\n\nBrack. Nun?\n\nHedda. \u2013 immer und ewig zusammen zu sein mit \u2013 mit einem und demselben.\n\nBrack nickt beif\u00e4llig. Fr\u00fch, und sp\u00e4t \u2013 jawohl. Man denke blo\u00df, \u2013 zu allen m\u00f6glichen Zeiten.\n\nHedda. Ich sagte: immer und ewig.\n\nBrack. Na sch\u00f6n. Aber mir scheint doch, mit unserm biedern Tesman, da m\u00fc\u00dfte man \u2013\n\nHedda. Tesman ist \u2013 ein Fachmensch, mein Lieber.\n\nBrack. Unstreitig.\n\nHedda. Und mit Fachmenschen zu reisen ist durchaus kein Vergn\u00fcgen. Wenigstens nicht auf die Dauer.\n\nBrack. Nicht einmal \u2013 mit dem Fachmenschen, den man _liebt_?\n\nHedda. O weh, \u2013 brauchen Sie doch nicht das klebrige Wort!\n\nBrack betroffen. Wie denn, Frau Hedda?\n\nHedda halb lachend, halb \u00e4rgerlich. Ja, Sie sollten es nur einmal probieren! Von Kulturgeschichte reden zu h\u00f6ren fr\u00fch und sp\u00e4t \u2013\n\nBrack. Immer und ewig \u2013\u00a6\n\nHedda. Ja \u2013 ja \u2013 ja! Und dazu die Sache mit der Hausindustrie im Mittelalter \u2013! Das ist gar das Allergr\u00e4\u00dflichste.\n\nBrack sieht sie pr\u00fcfend an. Aber, Sagen Sie mal, \u2013 wie soll ich mir denn eigentlich erkl\u00e4ren, da\u00df \u2013? Hm \u2013\n\nHedda. Da\u00df aus mir und J\u00f6rgen Tesman ein Paar geworden ist, meinen Sie?\n\nBrack. Na ja, wir wollen uns so ausdr\u00fccken.\n\nHedda. Guter Gott, scheint Ihnen denn das so merkw\u00fcrdig?\n\nBrack. Ja und nein, \u2013 Frau Hedda.\n\nHedda. Ich hatte mich wirklich m\u00fcde getanzt, lieber Assessor. Meine Zeit war um \u2013 schrickt leicht zusammen. I nein, \u2013 das m\u00f6chte ich denn doch nicht sagen. Auch nicht denken!\n\nBrack. Dazu haben Sie auch ganz gewi\u00df keinen Grund.\n\nHedda. Oh, \u2013 Grund \u2013. Sieht ihn an wie auf der Lauer. Und J\u00f6rgen Tesman, \u2013 da mu\u00df man doch sagen, das ist ein in jeder Beziehung korrekter Mensch.\n\nBrack. So korrekt wie solid. Das ist nun einmal wahr.\n\nHedda. Und etwas eigentlich Komisches kann ich nicht an ihm finden. \u2013 Oder finden _Sie_?\n\nBrack. Komisches ? Nei-n, \u2013 das will ich grade nicht sagen \u2013\n\nHedda. Nun also. Aber ein riesig flei\u00dfiger Sammler ist er doch jedenfalls! \u2013 Da ist es doch nicht unm\u00f6glich, da\u00df er es mit der Zeit noch einmal weit bringt.\n\nBrack sieht sie etwas unsicher an. Ich habe geglaubt, Sie waren wie alle anderen der Meinung, es w\u00fcrde ein ganz hervorragender Mann aus ihm werden.\n\nHedda mit einem m\u00fcden Ausdruck. Ja, das war ich. \u2013 Und da er nun durchaus mit aller Gewalt mich versorgen wollte \u2013. Ich wei\u00df nicht, warum ich es nicht h\u00e4tte annehmen sollen?\n\nBrack. Ja-ja. Von _der_ Seite betrachtet \u2013\n\nHedda. Es war doch wirklich mehr, als wozu meine anderen Verehrer bereit waren, lieber Assessor.\n\nBrack lacht. Ja, ich kann selbstverst\u00e4ndlich nicht f\u00fcr alle die anderen einstehen. Was aber mich selbst betrifft, so wissen Sie doch, ich hatte immer einen \u2013 einen gewissen Respekt vor den ehelichen Banden. So im gro\u00dfen Ganzen, Frau Hedda.\n\nHedda scherzend. Ach, auf _Sie_ habe ich mir wahrhaftig keine Hoffnungen gemacht.\n\nBrack. Alles, was ich begehre, das ist ein intimer Kreis von guten Bekannten, denen ich mit Rat und Tat dienen, und bei denen ich ein und aus gehen darf wie \u2013 wie ein erprobter Freund \u2013\n\nHedda. Vom Hausherrn, meinen Sie?\n\nBrack verbeugt sich. Offen gestanden, \u2013 lieber von der Hausfrau. Aber dann auch gleich vom Manne, versteht sich. Wissen Sie, \u2013 ein solches \u2013 ein solches, sagen wir, dreieckiges Verh\u00e4ltnis, \u2013 das ist im Grunde eine gro\u00dfe Annehmlichkeit f\u00fcr alle Teile.\n\nHedda. Ja, ich habe manches liebe Mal auf der Reise den dritten Mann vermi\u00dft. \u00c4h, \u2013 so unter vier Augen im Coup\u00e9 zu sitzen \u2013\n\nBrack. Zum Gl\u00fcck ist die Hochzeitsreise ja nun \u00fcberstanden \u2013\n\nHedda sch\u00fcttelt den Kopf. Die Reise d\u00fcrfte noch lange, \u2013 lange dauern. Ich bin unterwegs erst bei einer Station angekommen.\n\nBrack. Na, so h\u00fcpft man heraus. Und macht sich ein bi\u00dfchen Bewegung, Frau Hedda.\n\nHedda. Ich h\u00fcpfe nie heraus.\n\nBrack. Wirklich nicht?\n\nHedda. Nein, denn es ist immer jemand da, der \u2013\n\nBrack lachend. \u2013 der einem auf die Beine sieht, meinen Sie?\n\nHedda. Ja eben.\n\nBrack. Na aber, lieber Gott \u2013\n\nHedda mit abwehrender Handbewegung. Mag das nicht. \u2013 Da bleibe ich lieber sitzen, \u2013 wo ich nun einmal bin. Unter vier Augen.\n\nBrack. Nun, so steigt eben ein dritter Mann bei dem Paar ein.\n\nHedda. Ja, sehn Sie, \u2013 _das_ ist ganz etwas anderes!\n\nBrack. Ein erprobter, verst\u00e4ndnisvoller Freund \u2013\n\nHedda. \u2013 unterhaltend auf allerlei Gebieten, wo's ausgelassen zugeht \u2013\n\nBrack. \u2013 und nicht die Spur Fachmensch!\n\nHedda mit einem h\u00f6rbaren Atemzug. Ja, das ist freilich eine Erleichterung.\n\nBrack h\u00f6rt, wie die Eingangst\u00fcr ge\u00f6ffnet wird und blickt verstohlen hin. Zu ist das Dreieck.\n\nHedda halblaut. Und der Zug f\u00e4hrt weiter.\n\nTesman, in grauem Stra\u00dfenanzug und mit weichem Filzhut, kommt herein durchs Vorzimmer. Er hat einen ganzen Sto\u00df uneingebundener B\u00fccher unter dem Arm und in den Taschen.\n\nTesman geht an den Tisch beim Ecksofa. Puh, \u2013 den ganzen Berg da zu schleppen, \u2013 dabei konnte einem wirklich hei\u00df werden. Legt die B\u00fccher hin. Ich schwitze f\u00f6rmlich, Hedda. Ei, sieh da, sieh da, \u2013 sind Sie schon da, lieber Assessor? Was? Davon hat Berte nichts gesagt.\n\nBrack steht auf. Ich bin durch den Garten gegangen.\n\nHedda. Was sind das f\u00fcr B\u00fccher, die Du da mitbringst?\n\nTesman steht und bl\u00e4ttert darin. Es sind ein paar neue Fachschriften, die ich notwendig brauche.\n\nHedda. Fachschriften?\n\nBrack. Aha, es sind Fachschriften, Frau Tesman.\n\nBrack und Hedda wechseln ein verst\u00e4ndnisvolles L\u00e4cheln.\n\nHedda. Brauchst Du noch mehr Fachschriften?\n\nTesman. Ja, liebe Hedda, davon kann man nie genug haben. Man mu\u00df doch das verfolgen, was geschrieben und gedruckt wird.\n\nHedda. Ja, das mu\u00df man wohl.\n\nTesman sucht in den B\u00fcchern herum. Und sieh mal her, \u2013 da habe ich auch L\u00f6vborgs neues Buch aufgetrieben. Reicht es ihr. Hast Du vielleicht Lust hineinzusehen, Hedda? Was?\n\nHedda. Nein, danke sehr. Oder \u2013 ja, vielleicht sp\u00e4ter.\n\nTesman. Ich habe unterwegs ein bi\u00dfchen drin gebl\u00e4ttert.\n\nBrack. Na, und was sagen Sie \u2013 als Fachmann?\n\nTesman. Ich sage, es ist merkw\u00fcrdig, wie ma\u00dfvoll es gehalten ist. So hat er fr\u00fcher nie geschrieben. Rafft die B\u00fccher zusammen. Aber jetzt will ich die ganze Geschichte da hineintragen. Das Aufschneiden, das wird eine wahre Lust sein \u2013! Und dann mu\u00df ich ein bi\u00dfchen Toilette machen. Zu Brack. Wir brauchen doch wohl nicht gleich auf der Stelle zu gehen? Was?\n\nBrack. I bewahre, \u2013 es eilt noch gar nicht.\n\nTesman. Na, so la\u00df' ich mir also Zeit. Geht mit den B\u00fcchern ab, bleibt aber bei der T\u00fcr\u00f6ffnung stehen und wendet sich um. Ja so, Hedda, \u2013 Tante Julle kommt heut abend nicht zu Dir.\n\nHedda. Nicht? Ist vielleicht die Geschichte mit dem Hut schuld?\n\nTesman. Ach, keine Spur. Wie kannst Du nur so etwas von Tante Julle glauben! Denk nur \u2013! Aber Tante Rina geht's so furchtbar schlecht, wei\u00dft Du.\n\nHedda. So geht es ihr doch immer.\n\nTesman. Ja, aber gerade heut geht es ihr ganz besonders schlimm, der armen Person.\n\nHedda. Na, dann geh\u00f6rt es sich auch so, da\u00df die andre bei ihr bleibt. Ich werde mich schon drein finden.\n\nTesman. Aber Du kannst Dir gar nicht vorstellen, wie seelenvergn\u00fcgt Tante Julle trotz alledem war, \u2013 weil Du Dich so herausgemacht hast auf der Reise.\n\nHedda steht auf, halblaut. Oh, \u2013 diese ewigen Tanten!\n\nTesman. Was?\n\nHedda geht zur Glast\u00fcr. Nichts.\n\nTesman. Na also denn.\n\nEr geht durch das Hinterzimmer hinaus nach rechts.\n\nBrack. Was war das f\u00fcr ein Hut, von dem Sie gesprochen haben?\n\nHedda. Ach, das war eine Geschichte mit Fr\u00e4ulein Tesman heut fr\u00fch. Sie hatte ihren Hut abgenommen und da auf den Stuhl gelegt. Sieht ihn an und l\u00e4chelt. Und da tat ich, als ob ich ihn f\u00fcr den Hut des Dienstm\u00e4dchens hielte.\n\nBrack sch\u00fcttelt den Kopf. Aber, beste Frau Hedda, wie konnten Sie ihr das nur antun, der biedern alten Dame!\n\nHedda nerv\u00f6s, geht durchs Zimmer. Ja, sehen Sie, \u2013 so was kommt \u00fcber mich, ehe ich mich dessen versehe. Und dann _kann_ ich nicht widerstehen. Wirft sich in den Lehnstuhl beim Ofen. Oh, ich wei\u00df selbst nicht, wie ich es mir erkl\u00e4ren soll.\n\nBrack hinter dem Lehnstuhl. Sie sind nicht so recht gl\u00fccklich, \u2013 das ist die Sache.\n\nHedda sieht vor sich hin. Ich w\u00fc\u00dfte auch nicht, warum ich \u2013 gl\u00fccklich sein sollte. Oder k\u00f6nnen Sie mir es vielleicht sagen?\n\nBrack. Ja, \u2013 unter anderm deshalb, weil Sie doch nun _das_ Heim haben, das Sie sich gew\u00fcnscht hatten.\n\nHedda sieht ihn an und lacht. Glauben Sie auch an die Wunschgeschichte?\n\nBrack. Ist denn nichts daran?\n\nHedda. Ja doch \u2013 etwas ist dran.\n\nBrack. Nun?\n\nHedda. So viel ist dran: ich lie\u00df mich doch im vorigen Sommer von Tesman aus den Abendgesellschaften nach Haus begleiten \u2013\n\nBrack. Leider, \u2013 ich hatte doch einen ganz andern Weg.\n\nHedda. Das ist wahr. Sie gingen freilich andere Wege im vorigen Sommer.\n\nBrack lacht. Sch\u00e4men Sie sich, Frau Hedda! \u2013 Na \u2013 also was war mit Ihnen und Tesman \u2013?\n\nHedda. Ja, also wir kamen hier eines Abends vorbei. Und Tesman, der arme Kerl, wu\u00dfte sich vor Verlegenheit nicht zu lassen. Es fiel ihm n\u00e4mlich kein Gespr\u00e4chsthema ein. Da hatte ich Mitleid mit dem gelehrten Menschen \u2013\n\nBrack l\u00e4chelt zweifelnd. _Sie_? Wirklich? Hm \u2013\n\nHedda. Ja, ganz wahrhaftig. Und da \u2013 um ihm aus der Not zu helfen \u2013 da sagte ich aus purem Leichtsinn, ich h\u00e4tte wohl Lust, hier in dieser Villa zu wohnen.\n\nBrack. Mehr nicht?\n\nHedda. An _dem_ Abend nicht.\n\nBrack. Aber sp\u00e4ter?\n\nHedda. Ja. Mein Leichtsinn hatte Folgen, lieber Assessor.\n\nBrack. Leider, \u2013 unsre Leichtsinnigkeiten haben das nur allzu oft, Frau Hedda.\n\nHedda. Danke sehr! In der Schw\u00e4rmerei f\u00fcr die Falksche Villa also, sehen Sie, trafen sich J\u00f6rgen Tesman und ich verst\u00e4ndnisinnig! _Das_ f\u00fchrte zu Verlobung und Heirat und Hochzeitsreise, und zu was wei\u00df ich. Ja, ja, lieber Assessor, \u2013 wie man sich bettet, so liegt man, \u2013 h\u00e4tte ich fast gesagt.\n\nBrack. Das ist k\u00f6stlich! Und im Grunde haben Sie sich vielleicht aus der ganzen Geschichte hier nicht das Allergeringste gemacht.\n\nHedda. Nein, wei\u00df Gott nicht.\n\nBrack. Ja, aber was nun? Wo wir doch alles so h\u00fcbsch gem\u00fctlich f\u00fcr Sie eingerichtet haben?\n\nHedda. \u00c4h, \u2013 mir ist, als r\u00f6che es hier in allen Zimmern nach Lavendel und getrockneten Rosen. \u2013 Aber den Geruch hat vielleicht Tante Julle mitgebracht.\n\nBrack lacht. Nein, da glaube ich eher, der ist noch von der seligen Staatsr\u00e4tin.\n\nHedda. Ja, etwas Verwestes ist dabei. Es erinnert an Ballblumen \u2013 den Tag drauf. Faltet die H\u00e4nde hinter dem Nacken, lehnt sich in den Stuhl zur\u00fcck und sieht ihn an. Ach, lieber Assessor, \u2013 Sie k\u00f6nnen sich nicht vorstellen, wie schauderhaft ich mich hier drau\u00dfen langweilen werde.\n\nBrack. Sollte Ihnen denn das Leben nicht irgend eine Aufgabe zu bieten haben, Frau Hedda?\n\nHedda. Eine Aufgabe, \u2013 die etwas Verlockendes haben k\u00f6nnte?\n\nBrack. Eine solche am liebsten, nat\u00fcrlich.\n\nHedda. Gott wei\u00df, was das f\u00fcr eine Aufgabe sein sollte. Manchmal denke ich daran \u2013 abbrechend. Aber das geht gewi\u00df auch nicht.\n\nBrack. Wer wei\u00df? Lassen Sie h\u00f6ren.\n\nHedda. Wenn ich nun Tesman bewegen k\u00f6nnte, sich auf Politik zu werfen?\n\nBrack lacht. Tesman! Nein, h\u00f6ren Sie mal, \u2013 so etwas wie Politik, das liegt ihm gar nicht \u2013 aber ganz und gar nicht.\n\nHedda. Ja, das will ich gern glauben. \u2013 Aber wenn ich ihn nun trotzdem dahin bringen k\u00f6nnte?\n\nBrack. Ja, \u2013 was f\u00fcr eine Befriedigung w\u00fcrde Ihnen das gew\u00e4hren? Wenn er nun doch nicht dazu taugt. Warum wollen Sie ihn denn dazu bewegen?\n\nHedda. Weil ich mich langweile, h\u00f6ren Sie doch. Nach einer kleinen Pause. Sie halten es also f\u00fcr ganz unm\u00f6glich, da\u00df Tesman einmal Minister werden k\u00f6nnte?\n\nBrack. Hm, \u2013 sehen Sie, liebe Frau Hedda, \u00a6\u2013 um _das_ zu, werden, m\u00fc\u00dfte er zun\u00e4chst mal ein einigerma\u00dfen reicher Mann sein.\n\nHedda steht ungeduldig auf. Da haben wir's! Es sind diese d\u00fcrftigen Verh\u00e4ltnisse, in die ich hineingeraten bin \u2013! Geht durchs Zimmer. Und die eben machen das Leben so erb\u00e4rmlich, \u2013 so geradezu l\u00e4cherlich! \u2013 Denn _das_ ist es.\n\nBrack. _Ich_ glaube, die Schuld liegt wo anders.\n\nHedda. Wo denn?\n\nBrack. Sie haben noch nie etwas so recht Aufr\u00fcttelndes erlebt.\n\nHedda. Etwas Ernstes, meinen Sie?\n\nBrack. Ja, man kann es auch ganz gut _so_ nennen. Doch das k\u00f6nnte vielleicht jetzt kommen.\n\nHedda wirft den Kopf zur\u00fcck. Ach, Sie denken an die Widerw\u00e4rtigkeiten mit dieser dummen Professur! Aber das mag _Tesmans_ Sache bleiben. Dem opfere ich wahrhaftig auch noch nicht einen Gedanken.\n\nBrack. Jaja, also sehen wir davon ab. Doch wenn nun das, \u2013 was man \u2013 so im h\u00f6hern Stil \u2013 ernste und \u2013 und verantwortungsvolle Anspr\u00fcche nennt, an Sie herantr\u00e4te? L\u00e4chelt. Neue Anspr\u00fcche, kleine Frau Hedda.\n\nHedda b\u00f6se. Schweigen Sie! So etwas werden Sie nie erleben!\n\nBrack behutsam. Wir sprechen uns wieder in Jahresfrist \u2013 allerh\u00f6chstens.\n\nHedda kurz. Ich habe keine Anlage zu so etwas, Herr Assessor. Nur nicht so etwas wie Anspr\u00fcche!\n\nBrack. Sollten Sie nicht, wie die meisten andern Frauen, Anlage haben zu einem Beruf, der \u2013?\n\nHedda an der Glast\u00fcr. Ach, schweigen Sie doch, sage ich! \u2013 Manchmal glaube ich, ich habe Anlage nur zu _einer_ Sache auf der Welt.\n\nBrack geht n\u00e4her. Und das ist, wenn ich fragen darf ?\n\nHedda blickt hinaus. Mich zu Tode zu langweilen. Nun wissen Sie es. Wendet sich um, sieht nach dem Hinterzimmer und lacht. Richtig, na ja! Da ist der Herr Professor.\n\nBrack leise warnend. Aber, aber Frau Hedda!\n\nTesman im Gesellschaftsanzug, Hut und Handschuhe in der Hand, kommt von der rechten Seite durchs Hinterzimmer.\n\nTesman. Hedda, \u2013 ist von Ejlert L\u00f6vborg keine Absage gekommen? Was?\n\nHedda. Nein.\n\nTesman. Na, dann wirst Du sehen, ist er gleich da.\n\nBrack. Glauben Sie wirklich, er kommt?\n\nTesman. Ja, ich bin davon \u00fcberzeugt. Denn das sind ja doch blo\u00df lauter leere Ger\u00fcchte, was Sie heut fr\u00fch erz\u00e4hlt haben.\n\nBrack. So?\n\nTesman. Ja, wenigstens Tante Julle hat gesagt, sie glaubt im Leben nicht, da\u00df er sich mir k\u00fcnftig in den Weg stellen w\u00fcrde. Denken Sie mal!\n\nBrack. Na, dann ist ja alles sch\u00f6n und gut.\n\nTesman legt Hut und Handschuhe auf einen Stuhl zur Rechten. Aber Sie m\u00fcssen schon gestatten, da\u00df ich hier noch so lange wie m\u00f6glich auf ihn warte.\n\nBrack. Dazu haben wir noch reichlich Zeit. Bei mir kommt keiner vor sieben \u2013 halb acht.\n\nTesman. Na, dann k\u00f6nnen wir ja Hedda so lange Gesellschaft leisten. Und abwarten. Was?\n\nHedda tr\u00e4gt Bracks \u00dcberzieher und Hut hin aufs Ecksofa. Und schlimmsten Falls kann ja auch Herr L\u00f6vborg hier bei mir bleiben.\n\nBrack will die Sachen selbst nehmen. Aber ich bitte, gn\u00e4dige Frau! \u2013 Was verstehen Sie unter schlimmsten Falls?\n\nHedda. Wenn er nicht Lust hat, mit Ihnen und Tesman zu gehen.\n\nTesman sieht sie unschl\u00fcssig an. Aber liebe Hedda, \u2013 meinst Du, es geht an, da\u00df er hier bei Dir bleibt? Was? Vergi\u00df nicht, Tante Julle kann nicht kommen.\n\nHedda. Nein, aber Frau Elvsted kommt. Und dann trinken wir drei zusammen den Tee.\n\nTesman. Ja, sieh mal, _dann_ geht es!\n\nBrack l\u00e4chelt. Und das d\u00fcrfte vielleicht auch das Ges\u00fcndere f\u00fcr ihn sein.\n\nHedda. Wieso?\n\nBrack. Herrjeh, meine gn\u00e4dige Frau, Sie haben sich doch schon oft genug \u00fcber meine kleinen Junggesellenschm\u00e4use mokiert. Die eigneten sich ausschlie\u00dflich f\u00fcr wirklich prinzipienfeste Mannsleute, meinten Sie.\n\nHedda. Aber Herr L\u00f6vborg ist doch wohl jetzt hinreichend prinzipienfest. Ein bekehrter S\u00fcnder \u2013\n\nBerte kommt durch die Vorzimmert\u00fcr.\n\nBerte. Gn\u00e4dige Frau, da ist ein Herr, der gern herein m\u00f6chte \u2013\n\nHedda. Lassen Sie ihn eintreten.\n\nTesman leise. Ich bin sicher, er ist es. Denk nur!\n\nEjlert L\u00f6vborg kommt durch das Vorzimmer. Er ist schlank und mager; im gleichen Alter wie Tesman, sieht aber \u00e4lter und etwas abgelebt aus. Haar und Bart sind dunkelbraun, das Gesicht ist l\u00e4nglich und bleich und hat nur auf den Backenknochen ein paar r\u00f6tliche Flecken. Er tr\u00e4gt einen eleganten schwarzen, ganz neuen Besuchsanzug. Dunkle Handschuhe und einen Zylinder in der Hand. In der N\u00e4he der T\u00fcr bleibt er stehen und verbeugt sich hastig. Scheint etwas verlegen.\n\nTesman geht ihm entgegen und sch\u00fcttelt ihm die Hand. Lieber Ejlert, \u2013 so sehen wir uns doch endlich einmal wieder!\n\nL\u00f6vborg spricht mit leiser Stimme. Ich danke Dir sehr f\u00fcr Deinen Brief! N\u00e4hert sich Hedda. Darf ich auch Ihnen die Hand geben, Frau Tesman?\n\nHedda ergreift die dargereichte Hand. Willkommen, Herr\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Mit einer Handbewegung. Ich wei\u00df nicht, ob die beiden Herren \u2013?\n\nL\u00f6vborg verbeugt sich leicht. Herr Assessor Brack, wenn ich nicht irre.\n\nBrack ebenso. Habe die Ehre. Vor mehreren Jahren \u2013\n\nTesman zu L\u00f6vborg, legt ihm die H\u00e4nde auf die Schultern. Und nun tu grade so, als ob Du zu Hause w\u00e4rst, Ejlert! Nicht wahr, Hedda? \u2013 Du willst Dich doch wieder in der Stadt niederlassen, h\u00f6re ich? Was?\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Das will ich.\n\nTesman. Na, das ist auch vern\u00fcnftig. Du, h\u00f6r' mal, \u2013 ich habe mir Dein neues Buch besorgt. Aber ich habe wahrhaftig noch keine Zeit gefunden, es zu lesen.\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Die M\u00fche kannst Du Dir auch sparen.\n\nTesman. Wieso meinst Du?\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Weil nichts weiter dran ist.\n\nTesman. Nein \u2013 was Du nicht sagst!\n\nBrack. Aber es wird doch so riesig gelobt, h\u00f6re ich.\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Das wollte ich ja grade. Und ich schrieb das Buch so, da\u00df alle mitgehen k\u00f6nnten.\n\nBrack. Sehr vern\u00fcnftig.\n\nTesman. Ja aber, lieber Ejlert \u2013!\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Denn nun will ich versuchen, mir wieder eine Stellung zu schaffen. Von vorn zu beginnen.\n\nTesman etwas verlegen. Ja, das kann ich von Dir verstehen! Was ?\n\nL\u00f6vborg l\u00e4chelt, legt den Hut hin und zieht ein in ein Papier eingeschlagenes Paket aus der Rocktasche. Aber wenn das da herauskommt, \u2013 J\u00f6rgen Tesman \u2013 das sollst Du lesen. Denn _das_ ist erst das Wahre. Das, worin ich selber bin.\n\nTesman. So? Und was ist es denn eigentlich?\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Es ist die Fortsetzung.\n\nTesman. Die Fortsetzung? Wovon?\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Von meinem Buch.\n\nTesman. Von dem neuen?\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Versteht sich.\n\nTesman. Aber lieber Ejlert, \u2013 das geht doch schon bis zu unserer Zeit!\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Allerdings. Und das hier handelt von der Zukunft.\n\nTesman. Von der Zukunft! Herrjeh, aber von der wissen wir doch gar nichts!\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Nein. Aber es l\u00e4\u00dft sich immerhin eins und das andre von ihr sagen. \u00d6ffnet das Paket. Da sieh mal \u2013\n\nTesman. Das ist ja nicht Deine Handschrift.\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Ich habe diktiert. Bl\u00e4ttert in den Papieren. Es ist in zwei Abschnitte eingeteilt. Der erste handelt von den Kulturm\u00e4chten der Zukunft. Und hier der andere \u2013 bl\u00e4ttert weiter hinten \u2013 der handelt von der Kulturentwicklung der Zukunft.\n\nTesman. Merkw\u00fcrdig! \u00dcber so etwas zu schreiben, das k\u00f6nnte mir nie einfallen.\n\nHedda an der Glast\u00fcr, trommelt auf die Scheiben. Hm \u2013. Nein \u2013 nein.\n\nL\u00f6vborg steckt die Schriftst\u00fccke in den Umschlag und legt das Paket auf den Tisch. Ich hab' es mitgebracht, weil ich Dir heut abend ein wenig draus vorlesen wollte.\n\nTesman. Ja, Du, das w\u00e4re riesig nett von Dir. Aber heut abend \u2013? Sieht zu Brack hin. Ich wei\u00df nicht recht, wie sich das anstellen lie\u00dfe \u2013\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Na, also dann ein andermal. Es eilt ja nicht.\n\nBrack. Ich will Ihnen sagen, Herr L\u00f6vborg, \u2013 heut abend ist eine kleine F\u00eate bei mir. In erster Reihe f\u00fcr Tesman, verstehen Sie \u2013\n\nL\u00f6vborg sieht nach seinem Hut. Ah, \u2013 dann will ich nicht l\u00e4nger \u2013\n\nBrack. Aber so h\u00f6ren Sie doch. M\u00f6chten Sie mir nicht das Vergn\u00fcgen machen, uns zu begleiten?\n\nL\u00f6vborg kurz und bestimmt. Nein, das kann ich nicht. Danke Ihnen recht sehr.\n\nBrack. Ach was! Tun Sie es doch! Wir sind ein kleiner, auserw\u00e4hlter Kreis. Und Sie d\u00fcrfen glauben, es wird \u00bbausgelassen\u00ab, wie Frau Hed \u2013, wie Frau Tesman sagt.\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Daran zweifle ich nicht. Trotzdem \u2013\n\nBrack. Dann k\u00f6nnten Sie Ihr Manuskript mitnehmen und bei _mir_ Tesman daraus vorlesen. Denn ich habe Zimmer genug.\n\nTesman. ja, denk Dir nur, Ejlert, \u2013 das k\u00f6nntest Du doch! Was?\n\nHedda tritt dazwischen. Aber, mein Lieber, wenn Herr L\u00f6vborg doch nun einmal nicht _will_! Ich bin \u00fcberzeugt, Herr L\u00f6vborg hat weit mehr Lust, hier zu bleiben und mit mir zu Abend zu essen.\n\nL\u00f6vborg sieht sie an. Mit Ihnen, gn\u00e4dige Frau!\n\nHedda. Und mit Frau Elvsted.\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Ah \u2013 leichthin. Der bin ich heut Mittag fl\u00fcchtig begegnet.\n\nHedda. So? Ja, sie kommt her. Und darum ist es beinah eine Notwendigkeit, da\u00df Sie bleiben, Herr L\u00f6vborg. Denn sonst hat sie niemand, der sie nach Haus begleitet.\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Das ist wahr. Besten Dank, gn\u00e4dige Frau, \u2013 ja, dann bleibe ich also.\n\nHedda. So will ich nur dem M\u00e4dchen noch einen kleinen Auftrag geben \u2013\n\nSie geht zur Vorzimmert\u00fcr und klingelt. Berte tritt ein. Hedda spricht leise mit ihr und deutet nach dem Hinterzimmer. Berte nickt und geht wieder hinaus.\n\nTesman gleichzeitig zu L\u00f6vborg. Du, Ejlert, \u2013 die Sache hier \u00fcber die Zukunft, \u2013 das ist wohl das neue Thema, \u2013 wor\u00fcber Du Vortr\u00e4ge halten willst?\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Ja.\n\nTesman. Denn beim Buchh\u00e4ndler h\u00f6rte ich, Du wolltest im Herbst hier eine Reihe von Vortr\u00e4gen halten.\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Das will ich. Du darfst es mir nicht verdenken, Tesman.\n\nTesman. I Gott bewahre! Aber \u2013?\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Ich verstehe ja, da\u00df es Dir einigerma\u00dfen in die Quere kommt.\n\nTesman verzagt. Ach, ich kann doch nicht verlangen, da\u00df Du um meinetwillen \u2013\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Aber ich warte, bis Du Deine Ernennung hast.\n\nTesman. Du wartest! Ja aber, \u2013 aber \u2013 willst Du denn nicht mit konkurrieren? Was?\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Nein. Ich will nur \u00fcber Dich siegen. In der Anschauung der Leute.\n\nTesman. Herrjeh \u2013 aber dann hatte Tante Julle doch recht! Ach ja, \u2013 das hab' ich ja _gewu\u00dft_! Hedda! Denk Dir nur, \u2013 Ejlert hat gar nicht die Absicht, uns in den Weg zu treten!\n\nHedda kurz. Uns? La\u00df mich doch aus dem Spiel!\n\nSie geht ins Hinterzimmer, wo Berte steht und ein Servierbrett mit Karaffen und Gl\u00e4sern auf den Tisch stellt. Hedda nickt beif\u00e4llig und kommt wieder nach dem Vordergrund. Berte geht hinaus.\n\nTesman gleichzeitig. Aber Sie, Assessor, \u2013 was sagen denn Sie dazu? Was?\n\nBrack. Na, ich sage, \u2013 Ehre und Sieg, \u2013 hm, \u2013 das mag ja etwas Wundersch\u00f6nes sein \u2013\n\nTesman. Ja, allerdings. Aber trotzdem \u2013\n\nHedda sieht Tesman mit kaltem L\u00e4cheln an. Ich finde, Du siehst aus wie vom Blitz getroffen.\n\nTesman. Ja, \u2013 ungef\u00e4hr so, \u2013 glaube ich fast \u2013\n\nBrack. Aber es war doch auch ein Gewitter, was \u00fcber uns hingezogen ist, Frau Tesman.\n\nHedda zeigt nach dem Hinterzimmer. Wollen die Herren nicht hineingehen und ein Glas kalten Punsch trinken?\n\nBrack sieht auf seine Uhr. Ein Abschiedsgl\u00e4schen? Ja, das w\u00e4re gar nicht so \u00fcbel.\n\nTesman. Ausgezeichnet, Hedda! Ganz ausgezeichnet! In so freier, leichter Stimmung, wie ich jetzt bin \u2013\n\nHedda. Bitte sch\u00f6n, auch Sie, Herr L\u00f6vborg.\n\nL\u00f6vborg abwehrend. Nein, ich danke sehr. F\u00fcr mich nicht.\n\nBrack. Herrgott, \u2013 aber kalter Punsch ist doch kein Gift, soviel ich wei\u00df.\n\nL\u00f6vborg. F\u00fcr manchen vielleicht doch.\n\nHedda. Ich werde schon Herrn L\u00f6vborg so lange Gesellschaft leisten.\n\nTesman. Jaja, liebe Hedda, tu das nur.\n\nEr und Brack gehen ins Hinterzimmer, setzen sich, trinken Punsch, rauchen Zigaretten und unterhalten sich lebhaft w\u00e4hrend des Folgenden. L\u00f6vborg bleibt am Ofen stehen. Hedda geht zum Schreibtisch.\n\nHedda mit etwas erhobener Stimme. Da will ich Ihnen einige Photographien zeigen, wenn es Ihnen recht ist. Tesman und ich \u2013 wir haben n\u00e4mlich auf der Heimreise einen kleinen Abstecher nach Tirol gemacht.\n\nSie kommt mit einem Album, das sie auf den Tisch beim Sofa legt, und setzt sich in die obere Sofaecke. L\u00f6vborg tritt n\u00e4her, bleibt stehen und sieht sie an. Dann nimmt er einen Stuhl und setzt sich an ihre linke Seite, mit dem R\u00fccken gegen das Hinterzimmer.\n\nHedda schl\u00e4gt das Album auf. Sehen Sie die Gebirgsgruppe da, Herr L\u00f6vborg! Das ist der Ortler. Tesman hat es drunter geschrieben. Hier steht es: Die Ortlergruppe bei Meran.\n\nL\u00f6vborg, der sie unverwandt betrachtet hat, sagt leis und langsam: Hedda \u2013 Gabler.\n\nHedda wirft ihm schnell einen verstohlenen Blick zu. Na! Pst!\n\nL\u00f6vborg wiederholt leise: Hedda Gabler!\n\nHedda sieht ins Album. Ja, so hie\u00df ich fr\u00fcher. Zu der Zeit \u2013 als wir beiden miteinander bekannt waren.\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Und fortan, \u2013 und f\u00fcrs ganze Leben \u2013 mu\u00df ich mir also abgew\u00f6hnen zu sagen: Hedda Gabler.\n\nHedda bl\u00e4ttert weiter. Ja, das m\u00fcssen Sie. Und ich meine, Sie sollten sich beizeiten \u00fcben. Je fr\u00fcher, desto besser, scheint mir.\n\nL\u00f6vborg mit zornerf\u00fcllter Stimme. Hedda Gabler verheiratet? Und noch dazu mit \u2013 J\u00f6rgen Tesman.\n\nHedda. Ja, \u2013 so geht's.\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Ach, Hedda, Hedda, \u2013 wie konntest Du Dich so wegwerfen!\n\nHedda blickt ihn unwirsch an. Na ? Nichts _da_ von!\n\nL\u00f6vborg. _Wo_ von, meinst Du?\n\nTesman kommt herein und geht aufs Sofa zu.\n\nHedda h\u00f6rt ihn kommen und sagt gleichg\u00fcltig: Und das hier, Herr L\u00f6vborg, das ist aus dem Ampezzotal unten. Sehen Sie nur die Bergspitzen! Sieht freundlich auf zu Tesman. Sag' mal, wie hei\u00dfen sie doch, diese seltsamen Bergspitzen?\n\nTesman. La\u00df mal sehen. Ach, das sind ja die Dolomiten.\n\nHedda. Richtig, ja! \u2013 das sind die Dolomiten, Herr L\u00f6vborg.\n\nTesman. Du, Hedda, \u2013 ich wollte blo\u00df fragen, ob wir nicht doch ein bi\u00dfchen Punsch hier hereinstellen sollen. Wenigstens f\u00fcr Dich. Was?\n\nHedda. Sehr freundlich. Ja. Und vielleicht auch ein paar Kuchen.\n\nTesman. Keine Zigaretten?\n\nHedda. Nein.\n\nTesman. Sch\u00f6n.\n\nEr geht ins Hinterzimmer und ab nach rechts. Brack sitzt drinnen und beobachtet Hedda und L\u00f6vborg von Zeit zu Zeit.\n\nL\u00f6vborg mit ged\u00e4mpfter Stimme, wie oben. So antworte mir doch, Hedda, \u2013 wie konntest Du das nur tun?\n\nHedda anscheinend ins Album vertieft. Wenn Sie fortfahren, Du zu mir zu sagen, dann rede ich mit Ihnen nicht mehr.\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Darf ich auch nicht Du sagen, wenn wir allein sind?\n\nHedda. Nein. Sie k\u00f6nnen es meinetwegen denken. Aber sagen d\u00fcrfen Sie es nicht.\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Ah, ich verstehe. Das gibt Ihrer Liebe \u2013 zu J\u00f6rgen Tesman einen Sto\u00df.\n\nHedda blickt verstohlen zu ihm hin und l\u00e4chelt. Liebe? Sie sind wirklich gut!\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Also nicht Liebe?\n\nHedda. Aber auch nicht so etwas wie Untreue! Davon will ich nichts wissen.\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Hedda, \u2013 beantworten Sie mir nur das Eine \u2013\n\nHedda. Pst!\n\nTesman, mit einem Servierbrett, kommt aus dem Hinterzimmer.\n\nTesman. So! Da kommen die guten Sachen.\n\nEr stellt das Brett auf den Tisch.\n\nHedda. Warum kommst Du selbst und servierst?\n\nTesman f\u00fcllt die Gl\u00e4ser. Weil es mir so riesigen Spa\u00df macht, Dich zu bedienen, Hedda.\n\nHedda. Aber Du hast ja beide Gl\u00e4ser gef\u00fcllt. Herr L\u00f6vborg will ja doch nichts haben \u2013\n\nTesman. Nein, ist ja wahr, \u2013 aber Frau Elvsted kommt wohl gleich.\n\nHedda. Richtig, ja, \u2013 Frau Elvsted \u2013\n\nTesman. Hattest Du sie vergessen? Was?\n\nHedda. Wir sitzen hier so in die Bilder vertieft. Zeigt ihm ein Bild. Denkst Du noch an das kleine St\u00e4dtchen da?\n\nTesman. Ach, der Ort am Fu\u00df des Brenner! Da war es ja, wo wir \u00fcbernachtet haben \u2013\n\nHedda. \u2013 und die vielen lustigen Sommerfrischler getroffen haben.\n\nTesman. Gewi\u00df \u2013 freilich. Denk nur an, \u2013 wenn Du h\u00e4ttest bei uns sein k\u00f6nnen, Ejlert! Was?\n\nEr geht wieder hinein und setzt sich zu Brack.\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Beantworten Sie mir nur die _eine_ Frage, Hedda \u2013\n\nHedda. Nun?\n\nL\u00f6vborg. War in den Beziehungen zu _mir_ auch keine Liebe? Auch _da_ rin nicht eine Spur, \u2013 nicht ein Schimmer von Liebe?\n\nHedda. Ja, wer kann das wohl sagen? Mir kommt es vor, wir w\u00e4ren wie zwei gute Kameraden gewesen. Zwei so recht vertraute Freunde. L\u00e4chelt. Sie besonders waren \u00e4u\u00dferst offenherzig.\n\nL\u00f6vborg. _Sie_ wollten das doch so haben.\n\nHedda. Wenn ich dran zur\u00fcckdenke, so scheint mir, es lag doch etwas Sch\u00f6nes, etwas Verlockendes, \u2013 etwas K\u00fchnes \u00fcber \u2013 \u00fcber dieser heimlichen Vertraulichkeit \u2013dieser Kameradschaft, von der keine Menschenseele eine Ahnung hatte.\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Ja, nicht wahr, Hedda! Das meine ich doch auch. \u2013 Wenn ich hinaufkam zu Ihrem Vater, so in den Nachmittagstunden \u2013. Und der General sa\u00df hinten am Fenster und las die Zeitung, \u2013 den R\u00fccken uns zugewandt \u2013\n\nHedda. Und wir beide auf dem Ecksofa \u2013\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Immer in dasselbe illustrierte Blatt vertieft \u2013\n\nHedda. In Ermanglung eines Albums, ja.\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Ja, Hedda, \u2013 und wenn ich Ihnen dann beichtete \u2013! Ihnen von mir erz\u00e4hlte, was kein andrer damals wu\u00dfte. Dasa\u00df und gestand, da\u00df ich durchrast hatte ganze Tage und N\u00e4chte. Durchrast Stunde um Stunde \u2013 ohne Unterla\u00df. Ach, Hedda, \u2013 was war doch f\u00fcr eine Macht in Ihnen, die mich zwang so etwas zu gestehen.\n\nHedda. Glauben Sie, es war eine Macht in mir?\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Ja, wie soll ich mir es denn sonst erkl\u00e4ren? Und all diese \u2013 diese verh\u00fcllten Fragen, die Sie an mich richteten \u2013\n\nHedda. Und die Sie so gro\u00dfartig verstanden haben \u2013\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Da\u00df Sie solche Fragen stellen konnten! Ganz unbefangen!\n\nHedda. Verh\u00fcllt, wenn ich bitten darf.\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Ja, aber doch unbefangen. Da\u00df Sie mich ausfragen konnten \u00fcber \u2013 \u00fcber _solche_ Dinge!\n\nHedda. Und da\u00df Sie antworten konnten, Herr L\u00f6vborg.\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Ja, das ist's ja eben, was ich nicht begreife \u2013 jetzt hinterher. Aber sagen Sie mir doch, Hedda, \u2013 war auf dem Grunde dieses Verh\u00e4ltnisses nicht doch Liebe? War nicht auf Ihrer Seite etwas wie das Streben, mich rein zu waschen, \u2013 wenn ich mich zu Ihnen fl\u00fcchtete mit meinem Bekenntnis? War es das nicht?\n\nHedda. Nein, nicht ganz.\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Was trieb Sie denn?\n\nHedda. Finden Sie das so ganz unerkl\u00e4rlich, da\u00df ein junges M\u00e4dchen, \u2013 soweit es sich machen l\u00e4\u00dft \u2013 in aller Heimlichkeit \u2013\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Nun?\n\nHedda. Da\u00df man dann gern ein bi\u00dfchen hineingucken m\u00f6chte in eine Welt, in der \u2013\n\nL\u00f6vborg. In der \u2013?\n\nHedda. \u2013 in der man nicht Bescheid wissen darf?\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Das war es also?\n\nHedda. Das auch. Das auch, \u2013 glaube ich beinah.\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Kameradschaft im Lebensverlangen. Aber warum h\u00e4tte _die_ nicht wenigstens Dauer haben k\u00f6nnen?\n\nHedda. Daran sind Sie selber schuld.\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Sie haben doch mit mir gebrochen.\n\nHedda. Ja, als Gefahr im Verzuge war, es k\u00f6nnte Wirklichkeit in das Verh\u00e4ltnis kommen. Sch\u00e4men Sie sich, L\u00f6vborg, wie konnten Sie sich vergreifen \u2013 an \u2013 an Ihrem unbefangenen Kameraden!\n\nL\u00f6vborg pre\u00dft die H\u00e4nde zusammen. Ach, warum haben Sie nicht Ernst gemacht! Warum haben Sie mich nicht niedergeschossen, wie Sie mir gedroht hatten.\n\nHedda. _Solche_ Angst habe ich vor dem Skandal.\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Ja, Hedda, Sie sind feig im Grunde.\n\nHedda. Entsetzlich feige. Ablenkend. Aber das war ja doch ein Gl\u00fcck f\u00fcr Sie. Und nun haben Sie sich so h\u00fcbsch getr\u00f6stet oben bei Elvsteds.\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Ich wei\u00df, was Thea Ihnen anvertraut hat.\n\nHedda. Und Sie haben ihr vielleicht etwas anvertraut von uns beiden.\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Kein Wort. Um so etwas zu verstehen, dazu ist sie zu dumm.\n\nHedda. Dumm?\n\nL\u00f6vborg. In derlei Dingen ist sie dumm.\n\nHedda. Und ich bin feige. Beugt sich n\u00e4her zu ihm hin, ohne ihm in die Augen zu sehen, und sagt leiser: Doch jetzt will _ich Ihnen_ etwas anvertrauen.\n\nL\u00f6vborg gespannt. Nun?\n\nHedda. Wenn ich nicht den Mut hatte, Sie niederzuschie\u00dfen \u2013\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Ja?!\n\nHedda. \u2013 so war das nicht meine \u00e4rgste Feigheit \u2013 an jenem Abend.\n\nL\u00f6vborg sieht sie einen Augenblick an, begreift und fl\u00fcstert leidenschaftlich: Ach, Hedda! Hedda Gabler! Jetzt sehe ich einen verborgenen Grund hinter der Kameradschaft! Du und ich \u2013! Es war _doch_ der Lebenstrieb in Dir \u2013\n\nHedda leise mit einem unwirschen Blick. Nehmen Sie sich in acht! Glauben Sie so etwas nicht!\n\nEs hat begonnen zu dunkeln. Berte \u00f6ffnet die Vorzimmert\u00fcr von au\u00dfen.\n\nHedda klappt das Album zu und ruft l\u00e4chelnd: Na endlich! Liebste Thea, \u2013 so komm doch herein!\n\nFrau Elvsted kommt vom Vorzimmer. Sie ist im Gesellschaftsanzug. Die T\u00fcr wird hinter ihr geschlossen.\n\nHedda, ins Sofa gelehnt, streckt ihr die Arme entgegen. Reizende Thea, \u2013 Du kannst Dir nicht denken, wie ich auf Dich gewartet habe!\n\nFrau Elvsted wechselt im Vor\u00fcbergehen einen leichten Gru\u00df mit den Herren im Hinterzimmer, geht dann hin zum Tisch und reicht Hedda die Hand. L\u00f6vborg hat sich erhoben. Er und Frau Elvsted begr\u00fc\u00dfen einander mit stummem Kopfnicken.\n\nFrau Elvsted. Ich sollte doch vielleicht hinein und ein paar Worte mit Deinem Manne reden?\n\nHedda. Ach, kein Gedanke. La\u00df die zwei nur sitzen. Die gehen ohnehin bald.\n\nFrau Elvsted. Sie gehen?\n\nHedda. Ja, sie wollen zu einer Kneiperei.\n\nFrau Elvsted schnell zu L\u00f6vborg. Aber _Sie_ doch nicht?\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Nein.\n\nHedda. Herr L\u00f6vborg \u2013 der bleibt hier bei uns.\n\nFrau Elvsted nimmt einen Stuhl und will sich neben ihn setzen. Ach, wie sch\u00f6n ist es hier!\n\nHedda. Halt, meine kleine Thea! Nicht _da_! Du kommst h\u00fcbsch hier zu mir her\u00fcber. Ich will in der Mitte sein.\n\nFrau Elvsted. Ja, ganz wie Du willst.\n\nSie geht um den Tisch herum und setzt sich aufs Sofa rechts von Hedda. L\u00f6vborg setzt sich wieder auf den Stuhl.\n\nL\u00f6vborg nach kurzer Pause, zu Hedda. Ist sie nicht reizend anzusehen?\n\nHedda streicht ihr leicht \u00fcbers Haar. Blo\u00df anzusehen?\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Jawohl. Denn _wir_ beide, \u2013 sie und ich, \u2013 wir sind zwei richtige Kameraden. Wir glauben unbedingt aneinander. Und deshalb k\u00f6nnen wir dasitzen und so unbefangen zusammen reden \u2013\n\nHedda. Unverh\u00fcllt, Herr L\u00f6vborg?\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Nun \u2013\n\nFrau Elvsted leise, schmiegt sich an Hedda. Ach, wie gl\u00fccklich ich bin, Hedda! Denk Dir nur, \u2013 er sagt, ich h\u00e4tte ihn auch begeistert.\n\nHedda sieht sie mit einem L\u00e4cheln an. So, sagt er das, mein Kind?\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Und dann den Mut zur Tat, den sie hat, Frau Tesman!\n\nFrau Elvsted. Ach Gott, \u2013 _ich_ Mut!\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Unbegrenzten Mut, \u2013 wenn es sich um den Kameraden handelt.\n\nHedda. Ja, _Mut_ , \u2013 ja! Wer _den_ h\u00e4tte!\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Was dann, \u2013 meinen Sie?\n\nHedda. Dann verm\u00f6chte man vielleicht doch das Leben zu ertragen. Lenkt pl\u00f6tzlich ab. Aber jetzt, meine beste Thea, \u2013 jetzt mu\u00dft Du wirklich ein Glas sch\u00f6nen kalten Punsch trinken.\n\nFrau Elvsted. Nein, danke sehr, \u2013 ich trinke nie so etwas.\n\nHedda. Aber _Sie_ doch, Herr L\u00f6vborg.\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Danke, ich auch nicht.\n\nFrau Elvsted. Nein, er auch nicht!\n\nHedda sieht ihn fest an. Auch nicht, wenn ich es haben will?\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Hilft nichts.\n\nHedda lacht. Ich habe also gar keine Macht \u00fcber Sie, ich Arme?\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Nicht in _diesem_ Punkt.\n\nHedda. Im Ernst gesprochen, ich meine, Sie sollten es _doch_ tun. Ihrer selbst wegen.\n\nFrau Elvsted. Aber Hedda \u2013!\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Wieso?\n\nHedda. Oder, besser gesagt, der Leute wegen.\n\nL\u00f6vborg. So?\n\nHedda. Die Leute k\u00f6nnten ja sonst leicht auf den Gedanken kommen, Sie f\u00fchlten sich \u2013 im Grunde \u2013 nicht so recht unbefangen \u2013 nicht so recht sicher Ihrer selbst.\n\nFrau Elvsted leise. Aber nicht doch, Hedda \u2013!\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Die Leute k\u00f6nnen meinetwegen glauben, was sie wollen, \u2013 vorl\u00e4ufig.\n\nFrau Elvsted froh. Ja, nicht wahr!\n\nHedda. Ich sah es dem Assessor Brack vorhin ganz deutlich an.\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Was denn?\n\nHedda. Er l\u00e4chelte so h\u00f6hnisch, wie Sie sich nicht getrauten, sich drin mit an den Tisch zu setzen.\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Mich nicht getraute! Ich wollte nat\u00fcrlich lieber hier bleiben und mich mit _Ihnen_ unterhalten.\n\nFrau Elvsted. Das war doch ganz nat\u00fcrlich, Hedda!\n\nHedda. Aber das konnte doch der Assessor nicht ahnen. Und ich sah auch, da\u00df er den Mund verzog und mit Tesman einen verstohlenen Blick wechselte, wie Sie sich nicht getrauten, in die kleine harmlose Gesellschaft mitzugehen.\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Getraute! Sie sagen, ich getraute mich nicht?\n\nHedda. Ich habe das nicht gesagt. Aber der Assessor hat es so aufgefa\u00dft.\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Meinetwegen.\n\nHedda. Sie gehen also nicht mit?\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Ich bleibe hier bei Ihnen und Thea.\n\nFrau Elvsted. Ja, Hedda, \u2013 das kannst Du Dir doch denken!\n\nHedda l\u00e4chelt und nickt L\u00f6vborg beif\u00e4llig zu. Also Grunds\u00e4tze \u2013 prinzipienfest f\u00fcr alle Zeit. Ja, so soll ein Mann sein! Wendet sich zu Frau Elvsted und t\u00e4tschelt sie. Na, habe ich es Dir nicht gesagt, als Du heut morgen so ganz verst\u00f6rt hier hereinkamst \u2013\n\nL\u00f6vborg betroffen. Verst\u00f6rt!\n\nFrau Elvsted in Angst. Hedda, \u2013 Hedda \u2013!\n\nHedda. Nun siehst Du es selbst! Es ist ganz unn\u00f6tig, da\u00df Du in dieser Todesangst umherl\u00e4ufst \u2013 abbrechend. So! Jetzt wollen wir alle drei recht ausgelassen sein!\n\nL\u00f6vborg ist zusammengefahren. Ah, \u2013 was soll das hei\u00dfen, Frau Tesman!\n\nFrau Elvsted. Ach Gott, ach Gott, Hedda! Was sagst Du da! Was tust Du da!\n\nHedda. So sei doch still! Der eklige Assessor sitzt drin und beobachtet Dich.\n\nL\u00f6vborg. In Todesangst also. Um mich.\n\nFrau Elvsted leise jammernd. Ach Hedda, \u2013 wie ungl\u00fccklich hast Du mich nun gemacht!\n\nL\u00f6vborg sieht sie eine Weile unverwandt an. Sein Gesicht ist verzerrt. Das also war des Kameraden unbefangener Glaube an mich.\n\nFrau Elvsted flehend. Ach, liebster Freund, so h\u00f6r' doch nur erst \u2013!\n\nL\u00f6vborg nimmt das eine gef\u00fcllte Punschglas, hebt es hoch und sagt leise mit heiserer Stimme: Auf Dein Wohl, Thea!\n\nEr leert das Glas, stellt es hin und nimmt das andere.\n\nFrau Elvsted leise. Ach Hedda, Hedda, \u2013 da\u00df das Deine Absicht sein konnte!\n\nHedda. Absicht? Meine Absicht? Bist Du nicht bei Trost?\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Und auch auf Ihr Wohl, Frau Tesman! Sch\u00f6nen Dank f\u00fcr die Wahrheit! Sie lebe!\n\nEr trinkt aus und will das Glas wieder f\u00fcllen.\n\nHedda legt die Hand auf seinen Arm. So, \u2013 f\u00fcr jetzt nicht mehr. Vergessen Sie nicht, da\u00df Sie in Gesellschaft sollen.\n\nFrau Elvsted. Nein, nein, nein!\n\nHedda. Pst! Sie sitzen drin und wenden kein Auge von Dir.\n\nL\u00f6vborg stellt das Glas hin. Du, Thea, \u2013 nun sei aber einmal aufrichtig \u2013\n\nFrau Elvsted. Ja!\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Wu\u00dfte Elvsted davon, da\u00df Du mir nachgereist bist?\n\nFrau Elvsted ringt die H\u00e4nde. Ach Hedda, \u2013 h\u00f6rst Du, was er fragt?\n\nL\u00f6vborg. War es eine Verabredung zwischen Dir und ihm, da\u00df Du zur Stadt fahren und mir aufpassen solltest? Hat vielleicht Elvsted selbst Dich dazu veranla\u00dft ? Aha! So! \u2013 Er brauchte mich wohl wieder in seiner Kanzlei. Oder hat er mich am Spieltisch vermi\u00dft?\n\nFrau Elvsted leise, in Qual. Ach, L\u00f6vborg, L\u00f6vborg \u2013!\n\nL\u00f6vborg ergreift ein Glas und will es f\u00fcllen. Der alte Schulthei\u00df, der soll auch leben!\n\nHedda abwehrend. Lassen Sie jetzt. Vergessen Sie nicht, Sie sollen noch ausgehen und Tesman vorlesen.\n\nL\u00f6vborg ruhig, stellt das Glas hin. Das \u2013 das war eine Dummheit von mir, Thea. Es so aufzufassen, meine ich. Sei mir drum nicht b\u00f6se, Du lieber, lieber Kamerad. Du sollst sehn, \u2013 Du wie die anderen, \u2013 wenn ich auch einmal gesunken war, so \u2013. Jetzt habe ich mich wieder aufgerafft! Mit Deiner Hilfe, Thea.\n\nFrau Elvsted freudestrahlend. Ach, Gott sei Lob und Dank \u2013!\n\nBrack hat unterdessen auf seine Uhr gesehen. Er und Tesman stehen auf und kommen in den Salon.\n\nBrack nimmt seinen Hut und \u00dcberzieher. Frau Tesman, nun hat unsere Stunde geschlagen!\n\nHedda. Das hat sie wohl.\n\nL\u00f6vborg steht auf. Meine auch, Herr Assessor.\n\nFrau Elvsted leise und bittend. Ach L\u00f6vborg, \u2013 tu es nicht!\n\nHedda kneift sie in den Arm. Sie h\u00f6ren Dich!\n\nFrau Elvsted schreit schwach auf. Au!\n\nL\u00f6vborg zu Brack. Sie waren so freundlich, mich einzuladen.\n\nBrack. Na, Sie kommen also doch mit?\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Ja, ich bin so frei.\n\nBrack. Freut mich au\u00dferordentlich \u2013\n\nL\u00f6vborg steckt das Paket im Umschlag zu sich und sagt zu Tesman: Ich m\u00f6chte Dir n\u00e4mlich gern noch allerlei zeigen, ehe ich es abliefere.\n\nTesman. Denk nur, \u2013 das wird h\u00fcbsch! \u2013 Aber, liebe Hedda, wer bringt denn nun Frau Elvsted nach Hause? Was?\n\nHedda. Ach, das wird sich schon finden.\n\nL\u00f6vborg sieht zu den Damen hin. Frau Elvsted? Ich komme nat\u00fcrlich wieder und hole sie ab. N\u00e4her. So gegen zehn Uhr, Frau Tesman? Pa\u00dft Ihnen das?\n\nHedda. Ja, gewi\u00df. Das pa\u00dft ausgezeichnet.\n\nTesman. Na, dann ist ja alles in sch\u00f6nster Ordnung. Aber mich darfst Du nicht _so_ zeitig erwarten, Hedda.\n\nHedda. Ach, mein Lieber, bleib Du nur so lange, \u2013 solange Du willst.\n\nFrau Elvsted in verhaltener Angst. Herr L\u00f6vborg, \u2013 ich warte also hier, bis Sie kommen.\n\nL\u00f6vborg mit dem Hut in der Hand. Versteht sich, gn\u00e4dige Frau.\n\nBrack. So! Nun geht der Vergn\u00fcgungszug ab, meine Herren! Ich hoffe, es wird ausgelassen werden, wie eine gewisse sch\u00f6ne Frau sagt.\n\nHedda. Ach, k\u00f6nnte doch diese sch\u00f6ne Frau unsichtbar zugegen sein \u2013!\n\nBrack. Warum unsichtbar?\n\nHedda. Um etwas von Ihren unverf\u00e4lschten Ausgelassenheiten zu h\u00f6ren, Herr Assessor.\n\nBrack lacht. Das m\u00f6chte ich der sch\u00f6nen Frau denn doch nicht geraten haben.\n\nTesman lacht auch. Nein, Du bist aber gut, Hedda. Denk nur!\n\nBrack. Also adieu, adieu, meine Damen!\n\nL\u00f6vborg verbeugt sich zum Abschied. Also um zehn herum.\n\nBrack, L\u00f6vborg und Tesman gehen hinaus durch die Vorzimmert\u00fcr. Gleichzeitig kommt Berte aus dem Hinterzimmer mit einer brennenden Lampe, die sie auf den Salontisch stellt; dann geht sie denselben Weg wieder hinaus.\n\nFrau Elvsted ist aufgestanden und geht unruhig durch das Zimmer. Hedda, \u2013 Hedda, \u2013 was soll aus alledem werden!\n\nHedda. Um zehn \u2013 dann kommt er also. Ich sehe ihn vor mir. Mit Weinlaub im Haar. Hei\u00df und voll Freude \u2013\n\nFrau Elvsted. Ja, wenn es doch nur so w\u00e4re!\n\nHedda. Und, sieh mal, dann \u2013 dann hat er \u00fcber sich selbst wieder Macht bekommen. Dann ist er ein freier Mann f\u00fcr sein ganzes Leben.\n\nFrau Elvsted. Ach Gott, ja, \u2013 wenn er nur so kommen m\u00f6chte, wie Du ihn Dir vorstellst.\n\nHedda. So und nicht anders kommt er! Steht auf und n\u00e4hert sich ihr. Zweifle Du an ihm, so viel Du willst. Ich glaube an ihn. Und nun werden wir einmal sehen \u2013\n\nFrau Elvsted. Du f\u00fchrst etwas im Schilde, Hedda!\n\nHedda. Allerdings. Ich will ein einziges Mal in meinem Leben die Herrschaft haben \u00fcber ein Menschenschicksal.\n\nFrau Elvsted. Hast Du das denn nicht?\n\nHedda. Habe es nicht \u2013 und habe es nie gehabt.\n\nFrau Elvsted. Aber doch \u00fcber das Deines Mannes?\n\nHedda. _Das_ w\u00e4re wohl der M\u00fche wert! Ach, k\u00f6nntest Du nur begreifen, wie arm ich bin. Und Dir soll es verg\u00f6nnt sein, so reich zu sein! Umarmt sie leidenschaftlich. Ich glaube, ich senge Dir doch noch das Haar ab!\n\nFrau Elvsted. La\u00df mich! La\u00df mich los! Ich habe Angst vor Dir, Hedda!\n\nBerte in der T\u00fcr\u00f6ffnung. Der Teetisch ist gedeckt drin im Speisezimmer, gn\u00e4dige Frau.\n\nHedda. Gut. Wir kommen.\n\nFrau Elvsted. Nein, nein, nein! Lieber will ich allein nach Haus gehen! Jetzt auf der Stelle!\n\nHedda. Unsinn! Erst sollst Du Tee trinken, Du N\u00e4rrchen. Und dann, \u2013 um zehn, \u2013 kommt Ejlert L\u00f6vborg \u2013 mit Weinlaub im Haar.\n\nSie zieht Frau Elvsted fast mit Gewalt hin zur T\u00fcr\u00f6ffnung.\n\n### Dritter Akt\n\nInhaltsverzeichnis\n\nDas Zimmer bei Tesmans. Die Vorh\u00e4nge vor der T\u00fcr\u00f6ffnung sind zusammengezogen. Ebenso vor der Glast\u00fcr. Die Lampe, mit einem. Schirm dar\u00fcber, brennt halb heruntergeschraubt auf dem Tisch. Im Ofen, dessen T\u00fcr offen steht, ist Feuer gewesen, das nun fast ausgebrannt ist.\n\nFrau Elvsted, in ein gro\u00dfes Umschlagtuch geh\u00fcllt und die F\u00fc\u00dfe auf einem Schemel, sitzt dicht am Ofen, in den Lehnstuhl zur\u00fcckgesunken. Hedda liegt angekleidet auf dem Sofa und schl\u00e4ft, unter einer Decke.\n\nFrau Elvsted, nach einer Pause, richtet sich rasch im Stuhl auf und lauscht gespannt. Dann, sinkt sie zur\u00fcck und jammert leise: Noch nicht! \u2013 Ach Gott, \u2013 ach Gott, \u2013 noch nicht!\n\nBerte kommt, behutsam auftretend, durch die Vorzimmert\u00fcr. Sie hat einen Brief in der Hand.\n\nFrau Elvsted dreht sich um und fl\u00fcstert gespannt: Nun, \u2013 ist wer dagewesen?\n\nBerte leise: Ja, eben war ein M\u00e4dchen da mit dem Brief.\n\nFrau Elvsted schnell, streckt die Hand aus. Ein Brief! Geben Sie her!\n\nBerte. Nein, der ist f\u00fcr den Herrn Doktor, gn\u00e4dige Frau.\n\nFrau Elvsted. Ach so.\n\nBerte. Es war Fr\u00e4ulein Tesman ihr M\u00e4dchen, die ihn gebracht hat. Ich lege ihn da auf den Tisch hin.\n\nFrau Elvsted. Ja, tun Sie das.\n\nBerte legt den Brief hin. Es ist gewi\u00df besser, ich mache die Lampe aus. Denn sie blakt.\n\nFrau Elvsted. Machen Sie sie nur aus. Es ist wohl nun bald Tag.\n\nBerte die Lampe l\u00f6schend. Es _ist_ schon Tag, gn\u00e4dige Frau!\n\nFrau Elvsted. Ja, hellerlichter Tag! Und noch nicht zu Haus \u2013!\n\nBerte. Ach Herrjeh, \u2013 hab' es mir doch gleich gedacht, da\u00df es so kommen w\u00fcrde.\n\nFrau Elvsted. Sie haben es sich gedacht?\n\nBerte. Ja, wie ich sah, da\u00df ein gewisses Mannsbild nach der Stadt zur\u00fcckgekommen ist \u2013. Und mit den andern abgeschoben ist. Denn von _dem_ Herrn hat unsereins ja fr\u00fcher gerade genug geh\u00f6rt.\n\nFrau Elvsted. Sprechen Sie nicht so laut. Sie wecken die gn\u00e4dige Frau.\n\nBerte sieht zum Sofa hin und seufzt. Ach Gott, \u2013 lassen wir sie nur schlafen, die arme Seele. \u2013 Soll ich noch im Ofen etwas nachlegen?\n\nFrau Elvsted. Danke, meinetwegen nicht.\n\nBerte. Na ja.\n\nSie geht leise hinaus durch die Vorzimmert\u00fcr.\n\nHedda erwacht vom Schlie\u00dfen der T\u00fcr und sieht auf. Was ist \u2013!\n\nFrau Elvsted. Es war nur das M\u00e4dchen \u2013\n\nHedda sieht sich um. Ah, hier drin \u2013! Ja jetzt wei\u00df ich ja \u2013 richtet sich auf dem Sofa sitzend auf, dehnt sich und reibt sich die Augen. Was ist die Uhr, Thea?\n\nFrau Elvsted sieht auf ihre Uhr. Es ist sieben vorbei.\n\nHedda. Wann ist Tesman gekommen?\n\nFrau Elvsted. Er ist noch nicht zu Hause.\n\nHedda. Noch nicht zu Hause?\n\nFrau Elvsted steht auf. Es ist noch gar keiner da.\n\nHedda. Und da haben wir gewacht und aufgesessen und gewartet unausgesetzt bis vier Uhr \u2013\n\nFrau Elvsted ringt die H\u00e4nde. Und _wie_ habe ich auf ihn gewartet!\n\nHedda g\u00e4hnt und sagt, die Hand vor dem Mund: Ach ja, \u2013 das h\u00e4tten wir uns auch sparen k\u00f6nnen.\n\nFrau Elvsted. Hast Du noch ein bi\u00dfchen geschlafen?\n\nHedda. O ja. Ich glaube, ich habe ganz gut geschlafen. Du nicht?\n\nFrau Elvsted. Nicht einen Augenblick. Ich konnte nicht, Hedda! Es war mir ein Ding der Unm\u00f6glichkeit.\n\nHedda steht auf und geht zu ihr hin. Nun, nun, nun! Da ist doch gar kein Grund zur Angst. Ich verstehe schon, wie das zusammenh\u00e4ngt.\n\nFrau Elvsted. Was glaubst Du denn? Wenn Du mir das sagen kannst!\n\nHedda. Na, die Geschichte beim Assessor hat sich nat\u00fcrlich gr\u00e4\u00dflich in die L\u00e4nge gezogen \u2013\n\nFrau Elvsted. Ach Gott ja, \u2013 das war gewi\u00df der Fall. Trotzdem aber \u2013\n\nHedda. Und dann, sieh mal, dann hat Tesman nicht nach Haus kommen und L\u00e4rm machen und l\u00e4uten wollen mitten in der Nacht. Lacht. Vielleicht hat er sich auch nicht gern sehen lassen wollen \u2013 so unmittelbar nach einer lustigen Kneiperei.\n\nFrau Elvsted. Aber meine Liebe, \u2013 wo sollte er denn sonst hingegangen sein?\n\nHedda. Er ist nat\u00fcrlich hinauf zu den Tanten gegangen und hat sich _da_ schlafen gelegt. Sie haben ja sein altes Zimmer noch leer stehen.\n\nFrau Elvsted. Nein, bei _denen_ kann er nicht sein. Denn eben ist ein Brief an ihn gekommen von Fr\u00e4ulein Tesman. Da liegt er.\n\nHedda. So? Betrachtet die Aufschrift. Ja, er ist wahrhaftig von Tante Julles eigener Hand. Na, dann ist Tesman eben beim Assessor geblieben. Und L\u00f6vborg, der sitzt \u2013 mit Weinlaub im Haar, und liest vor.\n\nFrau Elvsted. Ach Hedda, Du redest doch nur Sachen, die Du selber nicht glaubst.\n\nHedda. Du bist wirklich ein kleiner Schafskopf, Thea.\n\nFrau Elvsted. Ach leider, ja, das bin ich wohl.\n\nHedda. Und wie todm\u00fcde Du aussiehst.\n\nFrau Elvsted. Ja, ich _bin_ auch todm\u00fcde.\n\nHedda. Nun, darum sollst Du tun, was ich sage. Geh in mein Zimmer und leg Dich ein bi\u00dfchen aufs Bett.\n\nFrau Elvsted. O nein, nein, \u2013 ich werde doch nicht schlafen k\u00f6nnen.\n\nHedda. Gewi\u00df wirst Du das.\n\nFrau Elvsted. Ja, aber Dein Mann mu\u00df doch jetzt jeden Augenblick nach Hause kommen. Und da mu\u00df ich gleich erfahren \u2013\n\nHedda. Ich werde es Dir schon sagen, wenn er kommt.\n\nFrau Elvsted. Versprichst Du mir das, Hedda?\n\nHedda. Ja, da kannst Du Dich drauf verlassen. Jetzt geh hinein und schlaf inzwischen.\n\nFrau Elvsted. Danke sehr. So will ich versuchen, ob es geht.\n\nSie geht durchs Hinterzimmer hinaus.\n\nHedda geht hin zur Glast\u00fcr und zieht die Vorh\u00e4nge zur\u00fcck. Das volle Tageslicht f\u00e4llt ins Zimmer. Danach nimmt sie vom Schreibtisch einen kleinen Handspiegel, blickt hinein und ordnet ihr Haar. Dann geht sie nach der Vorzimmert\u00fcr und dr\u00fcckt auf den Knopf der Klingel.\n\nBerte zeigt sich nach einer kleinen Pause in der T\u00fcr.\n\nBerte. W\u00fcnschen gn\u00e4dige Frau etwas?\n\nHedda. Ja, legen Sie im Ofen nach. Mich friert hier.\n\nBerte. Herrjeh, \u2013 auf der Stelle soll es hier warm sein.\n\nSie scharrt die Kohlen zusammen und legt ein Holzscheit nach.\n\nBerte h\u00e4lt inne und lauscht. Da hat's eben an der Haust\u00fcr geschellt, gn\u00e4dige Frau.\n\nHedda. So gehen Sie hinaus und machen Sie auf. Den Ofen will ich schon selbst besorgen.\n\nBerte. Das Feuer mu\u00df gleich anbrennen. Sie geht hinaus durch die Vorzimmert\u00fcr.\n\nHedda kniet auf dem Fu\u00dfschemel und legt mehrere Scheite in den Ofen.\n\nTesman kommt gleich darauf vom Vorzimmer herein. Er sieht m\u00fcde und etwas ernst aus. Schleicht sich auf den Zehen hin zur T\u00fcr\u00f6ffnung und will zwischen den Vorh\u00e4ngen hindurchschl\u00fcpfen.\n\nHedda beim Ofen, ohne aufzusehen. Guten Morgen.\n\nTesman dreht sich um. Hedda! Kommt n\u00e4her. Aber um alles in der Welt \u2013 Du bist schon so fr\u00fch auf! Was?\n\nHedda. Ja, ich bin heute t\u00fcchtig fr\u00fch aufgewesen.\n\nTesman. Und ich war so fest \u00fcberzeugt, Du l\u00e4gst noch im Bett und schliefst! Denk nur, Hedda!\n\nHedda. Sprich nicht so laut. Frau Elvsted liegt in meinem Zimmer.\n\nTesman. Ist Frau Elvsted die ganze Nacht dageblieben?\n\nHedda. Ja, es ist doch keiner gekommen, sie abzuholen.\n\nTesman. Ach ja, das ist schon richtig.\n\nHedda macht die Ofent\u00fcr zu und steht auf. Na, war es am\u00fcsant beim Assessor?\n\nTesman. Warst Du meinetwegen \u00e4ngstlich? Was?\n\nHedda. Nein, das k\u00f6nnte mir doch nie einfallen. Aber ich habe gefragt, ob Du Dich am\u00fcsiert hast.\n\nTesman. O ja, freilich. _Ein_ mal ist ja doch _kein_ mal \u2013. Ganz besonders im Anfang, \u2013 mu\u00df ich sagen. Denn da hat mir Ejlert vorgelesen. Wir sind n\u00e4mlich \u00fcber eine Stunde zu fr\u00fch gekommen, \u2013 denk nur! Und Brack hatte ja noch mancherlei zu besorgen. Und derweil las Ejlert vor.\n\nHedda setzt sich rechts an den Tisch. Nun! So la\u00df doch h\u00f6ren \u2013\n\nTesman setzt sich auf ein Taburett beim Ofen. Nein, Hedda, Du kannst Dir gar nicht vorstellen, was f\u00fcr ein Werk das wird! Es geh\u00f6rt ohne Zweifel zu dem Merkw\u00fcrdigsten, was geschrieben worden ist. Denk Dir!\n\nHedda. Ja, ja, das interessiert mich nicht \u2013\n\nTesman. Ich will Dir etwas gestehen, Hedda. Nachdem er gelesen hatte, \u2013 da \u00fcberkam mich etwas H\u00e4\u00dfliches.\n\nHedda. Etwas H\u00e4\u00dfliches?\n\nTesman. Ich sa\u00df da und beneidete Ejlert, da\u00df er so etwas hatte schreiben k\u00f6nnen. Denk Dir, Hedda!\n\nHedda. Ja, ja, ich denke ja schon!\n\nTesman. Und dann zu wissen, da\u00df er, \u2013 bei _seinen_ F\u00e4higkeiten, \u2013 doch wohl leider ganz unverbesserlich ist.\n\nHedda. Du meinst wohl, er hat mehr Lebensmut als die anderen?\n\nTesman. Herrgott, nein, \u2013 sieh mal, er kann eben gar nicht Ma\u00df halten im Genu\u00df.\n\nHedda. Und wie entwickelte sich es denn \u2013 zuletzt ?\n\nTesman. Ja, ich hatte direkt die Empfindung, man konnte es ein Bacchanal nennen, Hedda.\n\nHedda. Hatte er Weinlaub im Haar?\n\nTesman. Weinlaub? Nein, davon habe ich nichts gesehen. Aber er hielt eine lange konfuse Rede auf ein weibliches Wesen, das ihn bei der Arbeit begeistert h\u00e4tte. Ja, so dr\u00fcckte er sich aus.\n\nHedda. Hat er ihren Namen genannt?\n\nTesman. Nein, das hat er nicht getan. Aber ich kann es mir nicht anders denken, es mu\u00df Frau Elvsted sein. Pa\u00df nur auf!\n\nHedda. Nun, \u2013 und wo hast Du Dich von ihm getrennt ?\n\nTesman. Auf dem Heimwege. Wir brachen gleichzeitig auf, \u2013 als die Nachz\u00fcgler. Und Brack ging auch mit, um ein bi\u00dfchen frische Luft zu sch\u00f6pfen. Und da, siehst Du, da entschlossen wir uns, Ejlert nach Haus zu begleiten. Denn wei\u00dft Du, er hatte wirklich des Guten zu viel getan.\n\nHedda. Das mag wohl sein.\n\nTesman. Aber nun kommt das Merkw\u00fcrdige, Hedda! Oder besser gesagt: das Traurige. Ach, \u2013 ich sch\u00e4me mich fast \u2013 f\u00fcr Ejlert \u2013 es zu erz\u00e4hlen \u2013\n\nHedda. Nun, was ist denn \u2013 ?\n\nTesman. W\u00e4hrend wir so unsern Weg gingen, wei\u00dft Du, blieb ich zuf\u00e4llig etwas zur\u00fcck. Nur so ein paar Minuten, \u2013 denk Dir!\n\nHedda. Ja, ja, Herrgott, und \u2013?\n\nTesman. Und wie ich die andern schnell einholen will, \u2013 wei\u00dft Du, was ich da auf dem Wege finde? Was?\n\nHedda. Wie kann _ich_ denn das wissen!\n\nTesman. Sag' aber blo\u00df keinem Menschen etwas, Hedda. H\u00f6rst Du! Versprich mir das, Ejlerts wegen. Zieht ein mit Papier umwickeltes Paket aus der Rocktasche. Denk Dir, \u2013 das da habe ich gefunden.\n\nHedda. Ist das nicht das Paket, das er gestern mit hatte?\n\nTesman. Ja freilich, das ist sein ganzes kostbares, unersetzliches Manuskript! Und das hatte er auf dem Wege verloren \u2013 ohne es zu merken. Denk Dir nur, Hedda! Wie traurig \u2013\n\nHedda. Warum hast Du ihm denn das Paket nicht gleich wiedergegeben?\n\nTesman. Nein, das durfte ich doch nicht \u2013 in der Verfassung, in der er war \u2013\n\nHedda. Hast Du einem andern etwas davon gesagt, da\u00df Du es gefunden h\u00e4ttest?\n\nTesman. I bewahre! Das wollte ich doch nicht Ejlerts wegen, verstehst Du.\n\nHedda. Es wei\u00df also kein Mensch, da\u00df Du L\u00f6vborgs Schrift hast?\n\nTesman. Nein. Und auch kein Mensch darf es wissen.\n\nHedda. Wor\u00fcber hast Du denn hernach mit ihm gesprochen ?\n\nTesman. Ich kam gar nicht mehr dazu, mit ihm zu sprechen, wei\u00dft Du. Denn wie wir in die Stadt kamen, da ri\u00df er uns mit zwei \u2013 drei andern aus. Denk Dir!\n\nHedda. So? Die haben ihn dann wohl nach Hause gebracht.\n\nTesman. Ja, das haben sie wohl, dem Anschein nach. Und Brack ging auch seiner Wege.\n\nHedda. Und wo hast _Du_ Dich danach umhergetrieben?\n\nTesman. Ich und noch ein paar andere, wir gingen mit einem von den lustigen Kumpanen auf seine Bude und tranken da unsern Morgenkaffee. Oder es mu\u00df wohl eher Nachtkaffee hei\u00dfen. Was? Aber wenn ich nur erst ein bi\u00dfchen ausgeruht habe \u2013 und annehmen kann, da\u00df Ejlert, der arme Junge, ausgeschlafen hat, so will ich gleich zu ihm hin und ihm das da bringen.\n\nHedda greift mit der Hand nach dem Paket. Nein, \u2013 gib das nicht weg! Nicht gleich, meine ich. La\u00df es mich erst lesen.\n\nTesman. Nein, liebste, beste Hedda, das darf ich bei Gott nicht.\n\nHedda. Du darfst nicht?\n\nTesman. Nein, \u2013 denn Du kannst Dir doch wohl denken, wie er au\u00dfer sich geraten mu\u00df, wenn er aufwacht und das Manuskript nicht hat. Du mu\u00dft n\u00e4mlich wissen, er hat keine Abschrift davon. Das hat er selbst gesagt.\n\nHedda sieht ihn gewisserma\u00dfen pr\u00fcfend an. Kann man denn so etwas nicht noch einmal schreiben? Ein zweites Mal?\n\nTesman. Nein, das halte ich nun und nimmer f\u00fcr m\u00f6glich. Denn die Begeisterung, \u2013 sieh mal \u2013\n\nHedda. Ja, ja, \u2013 _da_ ran mag es wohl liegen \u2013 leichthin. Ach richtig, ja, \u2013 da ist ein Brief f\u00fcr Dich.\n\nTesman. Denk nur \u2013!\n\nHedda reicht ihm den Brief. Er ist heut in aller Fr\u00fche gekommen.\n\nTesman. Von Tante Julle, Du! Was mag das sein? Legt das Paket auf das andere Taburett, \u00f6ffnet den Brief, \u00fcberfliegt ihn und springt auf. Ach Hedda, \u2013 sie schreibt, mit der armen Tante Rina geht es zu Ende!\n\nHedda. Das war ja zu erwarten.\n\nTesman. Und wenn ich sie noch einmal sehen will, so m\u00fcsse ich mich beeilen. Ich will gleich hin\u00fcber springen.\n\nHedda unterdr\u00fcckt ein L\u00e4cheln. Springen willst Du auch noch?\n\nTesman. Ach liebste Hedda, \u2013 wenn Du es \u00fcber Dich gewinnen k\u00f6nntest, mitzugehen. Denk nur!\n\nHedda steht auf und sagt m\u00fcde und abweisend: Nein, nein, verlang' nicht so etwas von mir. Ich will nichts sehen von Krankheit und Tod. Verschone mich mit allem, was widerw\u00e4rtig ist.\n\nTesman. Na Gott\u2013! F\u00e4hrt umher. Mein Hut\u2013? Mein \u00dcberzieher \u2013? Ja so, im Vorzimmer \u2013. Ich will zu Gott hoffen, da\u00df ich nicht zu sp\u00e4t komme, Hedda? Was?\n\nHedda. So spring nur \u2013\n\nBerte erscheint in der Vorzimmert\u00fcr.\n\nBerte. Herr Assessor Brack ist drau\u00dfen und l\u00e4\u00dft fragen, ob er eintreten darf.\n\nTesman. Zu dieser Zeit! Nein, jetzt kann ich ihn unm\u00f6glich empfangen.\n\nHedda. Aber ich. Zu Berte. Bitten Sie den Herrn Assessor einzutreten.\n\nBerte geht.\n\nHedda rasch, fl\u00fcsternd. Das Paket, Tesman!\n\nSie nimmt es vom Taburett.\n\nTesman. Ja, gib es mir!\n\nHedda. Nein, nein, ich hebe es Dir so lange auf.\n\nSie geht nach dem Schreibtisch und steckt es hinein ins B\u00fccherfach. Tesman kann in der Eile die Handschuhe nicht anbekommen.\n\nAssessor Brack kommt herein vom Vorzimmer.\n\nHedda nickt ihm zu. Nun, Sie sind mir ein rechter Morgenvogel.\n\nBrack. Ja, nicht wahr? Zu Tesman. Wollen Sie sich auch schon wieder auf die Beine machen?\n\nTesman. Ja, ich mu\u00df notwendigerweise zu den Tanten. Denken Sie blo\u00df, \u2013 die arme Kranke, die liegt im Sterben.\n\nBrack. Ach du lieber Gott, wirklich? Aber dann sollen Sie sich von mir nur nicht aufhalten lassen. In einem so ernsten Augenblick \u2013\n\nTesman. Ja, ich mu\u00df wirklich machen, da\u00df ich wegkomme. \u2013 Adieu! Adieu! Er eilt hinaus durch die Vorzimmert\u00fcr.\n\nHedda kommt n\u00e4her. Es war wohl mehr als ausgelassen bei Ihnen heut nacht, Herr Assessor.\n\nBrack. Ich bin tats\u00e4chlich nicht aus den Kleidern gekommen, Frau Hedda.\n\nHedda. Sie auch nicht?\n\nBrack. Nein, wie Sie sehen. Aber was hat denn Tesman erz\u00e4hlt von den Erlebnissen dieser Nacht?\n\nHedda. Ach, nur langweiliges Zeug. Blo\u00df, da\u00df sie bei irgend einem oben waren und da Kaffee getrunken haben.\n\nBrack. Von dieser Kaffeekneiperei habe ich schon geh\u00f6rt. Ejlert L\u00f6vborg war wohl nicht mit, soviel ich wei\u00df?\n\nHedda. Nein, den hatten sie vorher nach Hause gebracht.\n\nBrack. Tesman auch?\n\nHedda. Nein, ein paar andere, sagte er.\n\nBrack l\u00e4chelt. J\u00f6rgen Tesman ist wirklich eine arglose Seele, Frau Hedda.\n\nHedda. Ja, das wei\u00df der liebe Gott. Aber stimmt denn hier etwas nicht?\n\nBrack. Ja, die Sache ist nicht so ganz ohne.\n\nHedda. Na, so wollen wir uns setzen, lieber Assessor. Dann k\u00f6nnen Sie besser erz\u00e4hlen.\n\nSie setzt sich an die linke Seite des Tisches. Brack an die L\u00e4ngsseite in ihre N\u00e4he.\n\nHedda. Nun? Also?\n\nBrack. Ich hatte triftige Gr\u00fcnde, heute nacht den Wegen meiner G\u00e4ste \u2013 oder, richtiger gesagt, eines Teils meiner G\u00e4ste nachzusp\u00fcren.\n\nHedda. Und unter ihnen war wohl auch Ejlert L\u00f6vborg ?\n\nBrack. Ich mu\u00df gestehen \u2013 er war darunter.\n\nHedda. Jetzt machen Sie mich aber wirklich neugierig \u2013\n\nBrack. Wissen Sie, wo er und ein paar von den anderen den Rest der Nacht zugebracht haben, Frau Hedda?\n\nHedda. Wenn es sich erz\u00e4hlen l\u00e4\u00dft, so tun Sie es.\n\nBrack. I freilich, erz\u00e4hlen l\u00e4\u00dft es sich schon. Also, sie besuchten eine sehr animierte Soir\u00e9e.\n\nHedda. Eine von der ausgelassenen Sorte?\n\nBrack. Von der allerausgelassensten.\n\nHedda. Bitte mehr, Herr Assessor \u2013\n\nBrack. Auch L\u00f6vborg war im voraus dazu eingeladen. Ich war ganz genau davon unterrichtet. Erst hatte er abgelehnt zu kommen. Denn jetzt hat er doch einen neuen Menschen angezogen, wie Sie wissen.\n\nHedda. Oben bei Elvsteds, jawohl. Aber gegangen ist er also doch?\n\nBrack. Ja, sehen Sie, Frau Hedda, \u2013 da mu\u00df ungl\u00fcckseligerweise bei mir gestern abend der Geist \u00fcber ihn kommen \u2013\n\nHedda. Jawohl, da wurde er ja in Begeisterung versetzt, wie ich h\u00f6re.\n\nBrack. In einen recht gewaltigen Grad von Begeisterung. Na, er war also wohl andern Sinns geworden, wie ich mir denke. Denn wir M\u00e4nner sind leider nicht immer so prinzipienfest, wie wir sein sollten.\n\nHedda. Ach, _Sie_ bilden doch gewi\u00df eine Ausnahme, lieber Assessor. Also L\u00f6vborg \u2013?\n\nBrack. Na, kurz und gut, \u2013 das Ende war, er landete in Fr\u00e4ulein Dianas Salons.\n\nHedda. Fr\u00e4ulein Dianas?\n\nBrack. Es war ein Fr\u00e4ulein Diana, das die Soir\u00e9e gab. F\u00fcr einen auserw\u00e4hlten Kreis von Freundinnen und Verehrern.\n\nHedda. Ist das eine Person mit roten Haaren?\n\nBrack. Stimmt.\n\nHedda. So eine Art \u2013 S\u00e4ngerin?\n\nBrack. Na ja, \u2013 das auch. Und dazu eine gewaltige J\u00e4gerin \u2013 vor den Herren, \u2013 Frau Hedda. Sie haben gewi\u00df schon von ihr geh\u00f6rt. Ejlert L\u00f6vborg war einer, ihrer w\u00e4rmsten Besch\u00fctzer \u2013 in den Tagen seiner Bl\u00fcte.\n\nHedda. Und wie endete die Geschichte?\n\nBrack. Weniger freundschaftlich, scheint es. Fr\u00e4ulein Diana soll vom z\u00e4rtlichsten Empfang zu Handgreiflichkeiten \u00fcbergegangen sein \u2013\n\nHedda. Gegen L\u00f6vborg?\n\nBrack. Ja. Er beschuldigte sie oder ihre Freundinnen, ihn bestohlen zu haben. Er behauptete, seine Brieftasche sei ihm abhanden gekommen. Und andere Sachen mit. Kurzum, er soll einen Mordsspektakel gemacht haben.\n\nHedda. Und was war die Folge?\n\nBrack. Die Folge war \u2013 was soll ich Ihnen sagen \u2013 eine allgemeine Keilerei zwischen Damen und Herren. Zum Gl\u00fcck ist schlie\u00dflich die Polizei gekommen.\n\nHedda. Die Polizei ist auch gekommen?\n\nBrack. Ja. Aber der Spa\u00df wird L\u00f6vborg wohl teuer zu stehen kommen, dem verr\u00fcckten Kerl.\n\nHedda. So!\n\nBrack. Er soll Widerstand geleistet haben gegen die Staatsgewalt. Er soll einem Schutzmann eine Ohrfeige versetzt und ihm den Rock entzwei gerissen haben. So mu\u00dfte er auch noch mit auf die Polizeiwache.\n\nHedda. Woher wissen Sie denn das alles?\n\nBrack. Von der Polizei selbst.\n\nHedda sieht vor sich hin. So ist es also verlaufen. Da hat er nicht Weinlaub im Haar gehabt.\n\nBrack. Weinlaub, Frau Hedda?\n\nHedda wechselt den Ton. Aber nun sagen Sie mir einmal, Herr Assessor, \u2013 warum tun Sie das eigentlich und sp\u00fcren und forschen Ejlert L\u00f6vborg nach?\n\nBrack. Erstens mal kann mir es doch nicht so ganz gleichg\u00fcltig sein, wenn sich beim Verh\u00f6r herausstellt, da\u00df er unmittelbar von mir gekommen ist.\n\nHedda. Zum Verh\u00f6r wird es also auch kommen?\n\nBrack. Versteht sich. Aber das mag im \u00fcbrigen nun sein, wie es will. Doch mir scheint, als Freund des Hauses bin ich verpflichtet, Ihnen und Tesman volle Klarheit zu schaffen \u00fcber L\u00f6vborgs n\u00e4chtliches Tun und Treiben.\n\nHedda. Warum denn das, Herr Assessor ?\n\nBrack. Weil ich lebhaften Verdacht hege, er will Sie sozusagen als spanische Wand gebrauchen.\n\nHedda. Aber wie kommen Sie nur auf _den_ Gedanken?\n\nBrack. Nun mein Gott, \u2013 wir sind doch nicht blind, Frau Hedda. Passen Sie nur auf! Diese Frau Elvsted, die verl\u00e4\u00dft sicherlich die Stadt nicht so bald wieder.\n\nHedda. Nun, wenn zwischen den beiden etwas sein sollte, so gibt es doch wohl noch genug andere Orte, wo sie sich treffen k\u00f6nnen.\n\nBrack. Familien nicht. Jedes anst\u00e4ndige Haus wird von jetzt an L\u00f6vborg wieder verschlossen sein.\n\nHedda. Und mein Haus mu\u00df das auch, meinen Sie?\n\nBrack. Ja. Ich gestehe, es w\u00e4re mir mehr als peinlich, wenn dieser Herr hier fernerhin ein und aus gehen d\u00fcrfte. Wenn er, als ein \u00dcberfl\u00fcssiger \u2013 und Unbefugter \u2013 sich eindr\u00e4ngen sollte in \u2013\n\nHedda. \u2013 in das Dreieck?\n\nBrack. Ja eben. Das w\u00fcrde f\u00fcr mich gleichbedeutend sein mit heimatlos werden.\n\nHedda sieht ihn l\u00e4chelnd an. Also, \u2013 einziger Hahn im Korbe, \u2013 das ist Ihr Ziel.\n\nBrack nickt langsam und senkt die Stimme, Ja, das ist mein Ziel. Und f\u00fcr dies Ziel werde ich k\u00e4mpfen \u2013 mit allen Mitteln, die mir zu Gebote stehen.\n\nHedda, indem das L\u00e4cheln sich verfl\u00fcchtigt. Sie sind sicher ein gef\u00e4hrlicher Mensch, \u2013 wenn es darauf ankommt.\n\nBrack. Glauben Sie?\n\nHedda. Ja, ich fange an, es zu glauben. Und man kann herzlich froh sein \u2013 solange man Ihnen nur nicht mit Haut und Haar ausgeliefert ist.\n\nBrack lacht zweideutig. Jaja, Frau Hedda, \u2013 da haben Sie vielleicht nicht so unrecht. Wer wei\u00df, ob ich in diesem Fall nicht imstande w\u00e4re, so allerlei auszuhecken.\n\nHedda. Nun h\u00f6ren Sie aber einmal, Herr Assessor! Das klingt ja fast wie eine Drohung.\n\nBrack steht auf. I keine Spur! Das Dreieck, \u2013 sehen Sie, das befestigt und verteidigt man am besten freiwillig.\n\nHedda. Das ist auch meine Ansicht.\n\nBrack. So, nun habe ich gesagt, was ich zu sagen hatte. Und jetzt mu\u00df ich machen, da\u00df ich nach Hause komme. Adieu, Frau Hedda!\n\nEr geht nach der Glast\u00fcr.\n\nHedda steht auf. Sie gehen durch den Garten?\n\nBrack. Ja, da k\u00fcrze ich ab.\n\nHedda. Freilich, und dann ist ja auch ein versteckter Weg da.\n\nBrack. Sehr wahr. Ich habe durchaus nichts gegen versteckte Wege. Zuzeiten k\u00f6nnen sie recht pikant sein.\n\nHedda. Wenn scharf geschossen wird, meinen Sie?\n\nBrack in der T\u00fcr, lacht ihr zu. Ach, man schie\u00dft doch wohl nicht seine zahmen H\u00e4hne im Korb!\n\nHedda lacht gleichfalls. Bewahre, \u2013 wenn man nicht mehr als den _einen_ hat, so \u2013\n\nSie nicken sich, unter Lachen, zum Abschied zu. Er geht. Hedda schlie\u00dft die T\u00fcr hinter ihm. Sie steht eine Weile ernst da und sieht hinaus. Danach geht sie zum Hintergrund und guckt durch den Vorhang ins Zimmer. Geht dann zum Schreibtisch, nimmt L\u00f6vborgs Paket aus dem B\u00fccherfach und will in der Schrift bl\u00e4ttern. Bertes Stimme ert\u00f6nt laut drau\u00dfen im Vorzimmer. Hedda wendet sich um und horcht. Schlie\u00dft dann rasch das Paket in die Schieblade ein und legt den Schl\u00fcssel aufs Schreibzeug.\n\nL\u00f6vborg, im \u00dcberzieher und den Hut in der Hand, rei\u00dft die T\u00fcr vom Vorzimmer auf. Er sieht etwas verst\u00f6rt und aufgeregt aus.\n\nL\u00f6vborg gegen das Vorzimmer gewandt. Und ich sage Ihnen, ich will und mu\u00df hinein! So!\n\nEr schlie\u00dft die T\u00fcr, dreht sich um, sieht Hedda, beherrscht sich augenblicklich und begr\u00fc\u00dft sie.\n\nHedda am Schreibtisch. Na, Herr L\u00f6vborg, Sie kommen ja h\u00fcbsch sp\u00e4t zu Thea, um sie abzuholen.\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Oder ich komme h\u00fcbsch _fr\u00fch_ zu Ihnen. Ich bitte um Entschuldigung.\n\nHedda. Woher wissen Sie, da\u00df sie noch bei mir ist ?\n\nL\u00f6vborg. In ihrer Wohnung hie\u00df es, sie w\u00e4re die ganze Nacht fortgewesen.\n\nHedda geht zum Salontisch. Konnten Sie den Leuten etwas anmerken, als man Ihnen das sagte?\n\nL\u00f6vborg sieht sie fragend an. Etwas anmerken?\n\nHedda. Ich meine, klang es so, als ob man sich allerlei dabei d\u00e4chte?\n\nL\u00f6vborg begreift pl\u00f6tzlich. Ach ja, ist ja auch wahr! Ich ziehe sie hinab mit mir! \u00dcbrigens habe ich nichts gemerkt. \u2013 Tesman ist wohl noch nicht auf?\n\nHedda. Nein, \u2013 ich glaube nicht \u2013\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Wann ist er nach Hause gekommen?\n\nHedda. Auffallend sp\u00e4t.\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Hat er Ihnen etwas erz\u00e4hlt?\n\nHedda. Ja, ich habe geh\u00f6rt, es war recht h\u00fcbsch ausgelassen beim Assessor.\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Sonst nichts?\n\nHedda. Nein, ich glaube nicht. \u00dcbrigens war ich so greulich schl\u00e4frig \u2013\n\nFrau Elvsted kommt herein durch die Vorh\u00e4nge des Hinterzimmers.\n\nFrau Elvsted ihm entgegen. Ah, L\u00f6vborg! Endlich \u2013!\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Ja, endlich. Und zu sp\u00e4t.\n\nFrau Elvsted sieht ihn voll Angst an. Zu sp\u00e4t \u2013 in welcher Beziehung?\n\nL\u00f6vborg. In jeder Beziehung. Mit mir ist es aus.\n\nFrau Elvsted. Ach nein, nein, \u2013 sag' das doch nicht!\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Du wirst dasselbe sagen, wenn Du h\u00f6rst \u2013\n\nFrau Elvsted. Ich will nichts h\u00f6ren!\n\nHedda. Sie w\u00fcnschen vielleicht lieber mit ihr allein zu sprechen? Ich gehe dann.\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Nein, bleiben Sie, \u2013 bleiben Sie auch. Ich bitte Sie darum.\n\nFrau Elvsted. Aber ich will nichts h\u00f6ren, sag' ich.\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Nicht von den Abenteuern dieser Nacht will ich sprechen.\n\nFrau Elvsted. Wovon denn \u2013 ?\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Davon, da\u00df unsere Wege sich jetzt trennen m\u00fcssen.\n\nFrau Elvsted. Trennen?!\n\nHedda unwillk\u00fcrlich. Ich habe es gewu\u00dft.\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Denn ich kann Dich nicht mehr brauchen, Thea.\n\nFrau Elvsted. Und das sagst Du mir ins Gesicht! Mich nicht mehr brauchen! Ich werde Dir doch wohl helfen k\u00f6nnen nach wie vor? Wir werden doch fortfahren, gemeinsam zu arbeiten?\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Ich gedenke fortan nicht mehr zu arbeiten.\n\nFrau Elvsted gleichsam sich selber aufgebend. Wozu ist mein Leben dann noch n\u00fctze?\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Du mu\u00dft versuchen, so weiter zu leben, als ob Du mich nie gekannt h\u00e4ttest.\n\nFrau Elvsted. Aber das kann ich doch nicht!\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Versuch' nur, ob Du es kannst, Thea. Du mu\u00dft wieder nach Hause \u2013\n\nFrau Elvsted in gro\u00dfer Erregung. Um keinen Preis der Welt! Wo Du bist, da will auch ich sein! Ich lasse mich nicht auf solche Art fortjagen! Ich will hier zur Stelle sein \u2013 mit Dir zusammen sein, wenn das Buch erscheint.\n\nHedda halblaut, in Spannung. Ah, das Buch \u2013 ja!\n\nL\u00f6vborg sieht sie an. Mein Buch und Theas. Denn _das_ ist es.\n\nFrau Elvsted. Ja, ich f\u00fchle, da\u00df es das ist. Und darum habe ich auch das Recht bei Dir zu sein, wenn es erscheint! Ich will es mit erleben, wie Dir wieder Achtung und Ehre in F\u00fclle gezollt werden. Und die Freude, \u2013 die Freude, die will ich mit Dir teilen.\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Thea, \u2013 unser Buch erscheint nie.\n\nHedda. Ah!\n\nFrau Elvsted. Es erscheint nicht!\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Kann nie erscheinen.\n\nFrau Elvsted in banger Ahnung. L\u00f6vborg, \u2013 was hast Du mit den Heften getan!\n\nHedda sieht ihn gespannt an. Die Hefte, ja \u2013?\n\nFrau Elvsted. Wo hast Du sie?\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Ach Thea, \u2013 frag' mich danach lieber nicht.\n\nFrau Elvsted. Doch, doch, ich will es wissen. Ich habe ein Recht, es auf der Stelle zu erfahren.\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Die Hefte \u2013. Nun denn, \u2013 die Hefte, die habe ich in tausend St\u00fccke gerissen.\n\nFrau Elvsted schreit auf. Ach nein, nein \u2013!\n\nHedda unwillk\u00fcrlich. Aber das ist ja gar nicht \u2013!\n\nL\u00f6vborg sieht sie an. \u2013 wahr, meinen Sie?\n\nHedda fa\u00dft sich. Jawohl. Nat\u00fcrlich. Wenn Sie selbst es sagen. Aber es klang so unwahrscheinlich \u2013\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Und doch ist es wahr.\n\nFrau Elvsted ringt die H\u00e4nde. O Gott, \u2013 O Gott, Hedda, \u2013 sein eigenes Werk in St\u00fccke gerissen!\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Ich habe mein eignes Leben in St\u00fccke gerissen. Da konnte ich doch wohl auch mein Lebenswerk \u2013\n\nFrau Elvsted. Und das hast Du also getan in dieser Nacht!\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Du h\u00f6rst es ja. In tausend St\u00fccke. Und sie hinausgestreut in den Fjord. Weit hinaus. Da ist jedenfalls frisches Seewasser. Darin m\u00f6gen sie treiben. Treiben vor Sturm und Wind. Und nach einer Weile \u2013 da sinken sie. Tiefer und tiefer. Wie ich, Thea.\n\nFrau Elvsted. Wei\u00dft Du, L\u00f6vborg, diese Sache mit dem Buch \u2013. Zeit meines Lebens werde ich die Vorstellung haben, als h\u00e4ttest Du ein kleines Kind gemordet.\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Da hast Du recht. Es ist so etwas wie ein Kindesmord.\n\nFrau Elvsted. Aber wie konntest Du dann \u2013! Ich hatte doch auch mein Teil an dem Kind.\n\nHedda fast lautlos. Ah, das Kind \u2013\n\nFrau Elvsted atmet schwer. Also aus. Ja, ja, nun gehe ich, Hedda.\n\nHedda. Aber Du reist doch wohl nicht ab?\n\nFrau Elvsted. Ach, ich wei\u00df selbst nicht, was ich tue. Wohin ich blicke \u2013 alles d\u00fcster.\n\nSie geht durchs Vorzimmer hinaus.\n\nHedda steht einen Augenblick stumm. Sie wollen sie also nicht nach Haus begleiten, Herr L\u00f6vborg?\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Ich? Durch die Stra\u00dfen? Sollen die Leute vielleicht sehen, da\u00df sie mit mir zusammen geht ?\n\nHedda. Ich wei\u00df ja nicht, was sonst diese Nacht noch passiert ist. Aber l\u00e4\u00dft es sich denn gar nicht wieder gutmachen ?\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Bei dieser Nacht allein hat es nicht sein Bewenden. Das wei\u00df ich ganz sicher. Und dann ist die Sache _die_ , da\u00df ich eine solche Art Leben auch nicht weiter f\u00fchren m\u00f6chte. Nicht wieder von neuem. Den Lebensmut und den Lebenstrotz, den hat sie in mir geknickt.\n\nHedda sieht vor sich hin. Der s\u00fc\u00dfe kleine Dummkopf hat seine Finger in einem Menschenschicksal gehabt. Sieht ihn an. Aber da\u00df Sie trotz alledem so herzlos gegen sie sein konnten!\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Ach, sagen Sie nicht, es war herzlos!\n\nHedda. Hingehen und vernichten, was ihr ganzes Sinnen erf\u00fcllt hat durch lange, lange Zeiten! Das nennen Sie nicht herzlos!\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Ihnen kann ich die Wahrheit sagen, Hedda.\n\nHedda. Die Wahrheit?\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Aber vorher versprechen Sie mir, \u2013 geben Sie mir ihr Wort darauf, da\u00df Thea nie etwas von dem erf\u00e4hrt, was ich Ihnen jetzt anvertraue.\n\nHedda. Da haben Sie mein Wort drauf.\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Gut. So will ich Ihnen denn sagen, es ist nicht wahr, was ich eben hier erz\u00e4hlt habe.\n\nHedda. Von den Heften das?\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Ja. Ich habe sie nicht in St\u00fccke gerissen. Und sie auch nicht in den Fjord geworfen.\n\nHedda. Ja, ja \u2013. Aber \u2013 wo sind sie denn?\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Ich habe sie trotzdem vernichtet. In Grund und Boden, Hedda!\n\nHedda. Das verstehe ich nicht.\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Thea hat gesagt, was ich getan habe, das k\u00e4me ihr vor wie ein Kindesmord.\n\nHedda. Ja, \u2013 so sagte sie.\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Aber sein Kind umbringen, \u2013 das ist nicht das Schlimmste, was ein Vater ihm zuf\u00fcgen kann.\n\nHedda. Nicht das Schlimmste \u2013 _das_?\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Nein. Das Schlimmste zu h\u00f6ren, das eben wollte ich Thea ersparen.\n\nHedda. Und was ist denn das Schlimmste?\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Gesetzt, Hedda, ein Mann k\u00e4me \u2013 so gegen die Morgenstunde, \u2013 nach einer wild durchschw\u00e4rmten Nacht heim zur Mutter seines Kindes und sagte: Du, h\u00f6re, \u2013 ich bin da und da gewesen. An den und den Orten. Und ich habe unser Kind mit gehabt. An den und den Orten. Das Kind ist mir abhanden gekommen. Spurlos abhanden. Wei\u00df der Henker, in was f\u00fcr H\u00e4nde es geraten ist. Wer alles seine Finger daran gehabt hat.\n\nHedda. Aber, \u2013 bei Licht betrachtet \u2013 handelte es sich doch nur um ein Buch \u2013\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Theas reine Seele war in dem Buch.\n\nHedda. Ja, das verstehe ich.\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Dann verstehen Sie wohl auch, da\u00df unser gegenseitiges Verh\u00e4ltnis keine Zukunft mehr hat.\n\nHedda. Und welchen Weg wollen Sie denn nun gehen?\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Keinen. Nur sehen, wie ich der ganzen Geschichte ein Ende mache. Je fr\u00fcher, desto besser.\n\nHedda einen Schritt n\u00e4her. L\u00f6vborg, \u2013 h\u00f6ren Sie \u2013. K\u00f6nnten Sie nicht darauf bedacht sein, da\u00df \u2013 da\u00df es in Sch\u00f6nheit geschieht?\n\nL\u00f6vborg. In Sch\u00f6nheit? L\u00e4chelt. Mit Weinlaub im Haar, wie Sie einst es sich vorstellten \u2013\n\nHedda. Ach nein. An das Weinlaub, \u2013 daran glaube ich nicht mehr. Aber doch in Sch\u00f6nheit! Ein Mal nur! \u2013 Leben Sie wohl! Jetzt sollen Sie gehen. Und nicht mehr wiederkommen.\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Leben Sie wohl, gn\u00e4dige Frau. Und gr\u00fc\u00dfen Sie J\u00f6rgen Tesman von mir. Er will gehen.\n\nHedda. Nein, warten Sie! Ein Andenken sollen Sie doch von mir mitnehmen.\n\nSie geht hin zum Schreibtisch und \u00f6ffnet die Schieblade und den Pistolenkasten. Kommt dann zur\u00fcck zu L\u00f6vborg mit der einen Pistole.\n\nL\u00f6vborg sieht sie an. _Das_ da? _Das_ ist das Andenken?\n\nHedda nickt langsam. Erkennen Sie die Pistole wieder? Sie war einmal gegen Sie gerichtet.\n\nL\u00f6vborg. H\u00e4tten Sie nur damals Gebrauch davon gemacht.\n\nHedda. Da! Machen _Sie_ jetzt davon Gebrauch.\n\nL\u00f6vborg steckt die Pistole in die Brusttasche. Ich danke Ihnen!\n\nHedda. Und \u2013 in Sch\u00f6nheit, Ejlert L\u00f6vborg. Versprechen Sie mir das vor allem!\n\nL\u00f6vborg. Leb' wohl, Hedda Gabler. Er geht hinaus durchs Vorzimmer.\n\nHedda lauscht eine Weile an der T\u00fcr. Dann geht sie hin an den Schreibtisch und holt das Paket mit dem Manuskript hervor, guckt ein bi\u00dfchen in den Umschlag, zieht ein paar Bl\u00e4tter halb heraus und sieht hinein. Dann nimmt sie das Ganze, geht damit zu dem Lehnstuhl am Ofen und setzt sich. Das Paket hat sie auf dem Scho\u00df. Bald darauf \u00f6ffnet sie die Ofent\u00fcr und dann auch das Paket.\n\nHedda wirft eines von den Heften ins Feuer und fl\u00fcstert vor sich hin: Nun verbrenne ich Dein Kind, Thea! \u2013 Du Krauskopf, Du! Wirft noch ein paar Hefte in den Ofen. Dein Kind und Ejlert L\u00f6vborgs. Wirft den Rest hinein. Nun verbrenne, \u2013 nun verbrenne ich das Kind.\n\n### Vierter Akt\n\nInhaltsverzeichnis\n\nDieselben Zimmer bei Tesmans. Es ist Abend. Das Gesellschaftszimmer liegt im Dunkel. Das Hinterzimmer ist von einer H\u00e4ngelampe erleuchtet, die \u00fcber dem Tisch h\u00e4ngt. Die Vorh\u00e4nge vor der Glast\u00fcr sind zugezogen.\n\nHedda, schwarz gekleidet, geht in dem dunkeln Zimmer auf und ab. Kommt dann ins Hinterzimmer und geht hin\u00fcber nach links. Man h\u00f6rt ein paar Akkorde vom Piano. Dann kommt sie wieder zum Vorschein und geht in das Gesellschaftszimmer.\n\nBerte kommt von rechts durch das Hinterzimmer mit einer brennenden Lampe, die sie auf den Tisch vor dem Ecksofa des Salons stellt. Ihre Augen sehen verweint aus, und sie hat schwarze B\u00e4nder am H\u00e4ubchen. Geht still und behutsam hinaus nach rechts. Hedda geht zur Glast\u00fcr hin, hebt den Vorhang etwas nach der Seite hin und sieht ins Dunkel hinaus.\n\nBald darauf kommt Fr\u00e4ulein Tesman im Trauerkleide, mit Hut und Schleier, herein vom Vorzimmer. Hedda geht ihr entgegen und reicht ihr die Hand.\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman. Ja, Hedda, da komme ich in den Farben der Trauer. Denn nun hat meine arme Schwester endlich ausgelitten.\n\nHedda. Ich wei\u00df es schon, wie Sie wohl sehen. Tesman hat mich, durch eine Karte verst\u00e4ndigt.\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman Ja, das hatte er mir versprochen. Aber ich meinte, ich m\u00fc\u00dfte doch hierher zu Hedda, \u2013 in das Haus des Lebens, \u2013 und den Tod selbst melden.\n\nHedda. Das war sehr freundlich von Ihnen.\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman. Ach, Rina h\u00e4tte nur grade _jetzt_ nicht aus der Welt gehen sollen. Heddas Haus sollte von Trauer verschont bleiben in dieser Zeit.\n\nHedda ablenkend. Sie ist ja doch so ruhig gestorben, \u2013 nicht, Fr\u00e4ulein Tesman?\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman. Ach, so sch\u00f6n, \u2013 so friedlich war ihre Aufl\u00f6sung. Und dazu das uns\u00e4gliche Gl\u00fcck, da\u00df sie J\u00f6rgen noch einmal sehen durfte. Und richtigen Abschied von ihm nehmen konnte. \u2013 Er ist am Ende noch nicht zu Hause?\n\nHedda. Nein. Er hat geschrieben, ich sollte ihn nicht so bald erwarten. Aber setzen Sie sich doch.\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman. Nein, danke, liebe gute Hedda. Ich m\u00f6chte gern. Aber ich habe so wenig Zeit. Jetzt soll sie aufgebahrt werden und geputzt, so gut ich es vermag. So recht schmuck soll sie in ihr Grab kommen.\n\nHedda. Kann ich nicht mit etwas helfen!\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman. Wo denken Sie nur hin! Bei so etwas darf Hedda Tesman nicht mit Hand anlegen. Auch nicht ihre Gedanken darf sie auf so was richten. In dieser Zeit nicht, \u2013 bewahre!\n\nHedda. Ach, die Gedanken, \u2013 die lassen sich nicht so meistern \u2013\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman fortfahrend. Ja, du lieber Gott, so geht es in der Welt. Bei mir zu Haus, da m\u00fcssen wir nun das Leinenzeug n\u00e4hen f\u00fcr Rina. Und hier wird es wohl auch bald etwas zu n\u00e4hen geben, wie ich mir denken kann. Aber das wird freilich von anderer Art sein, \u2013 Gottlob!\n\nTesman kommt durch die Vorzimmert\u00fcr herein.\n\nHedda. Nun, es ist gut, da\u00df Du endlich einmal kommst.\n\nTesman. Du bist da, Tante Julle? Bei Hedda? Denk nur!\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman. Ich war eben im Begriff, wieder zu gehen, mein lieber Junge. Na, hast Du nun alles besorgt, was Du mir versprochen hast?\n\nTesman. Nein, Du, ich bin wirklich bange, da\u00df ich die H\u00e4lfte davon vergessen habe. Ich springe morgen wieder zu Dir hin. Denn heut ist mir ganz wirr im Kopf. Ich kann die Gedanken nicht zusammenhalten.\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman. Aber, mein guter J\u00f6rgen, auf solche Art mu\u00dft Du es nicht nehmen.\n\nTesman. So? Wie denn sonst, meinst Du?\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman. Du sollst froh sein in der Trauer. Froh \u00fcber das, was geschehen ist. Ebenso wie ich es bin.\n\nTesman. Ach ja, ja, _Du_ denkst an Tante Rina.\n\nHedda. Jetzt wird es Ihnen einsam vorkommen, Fr\u00e4ulein Tesman.\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman. In den ersten Tagen, ja. Aber es wird wohl nicht so lange dauern, will ich hoffen. Der seligen Rina St\u00e4bchen darf doch nicht leer stehen, will ich meinen.\n\nTesman. So? Wen willst Du denn da hinein haben? Was?\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman. Ach, es findet sich schon noch immer irgend ein armes krankes Gesch\u00f6pf, das Beistand und Pflege braucht, \u2013 leider.\n\nHedda. Wollen Sie wirklich solch ein Kreuz wieder auf sich nehmen?\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman. Kreuz! Gott verzeihe Ihnen, mein Kind, \u2013 das ist doch kein Kreuz f\u00fcr mich gewesen.\n\nHedda. Aber wenn da nun ein ganz wildfremder Mensch kommt, so \u2013\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman. Ach, mit Kranken wird man bald gut Freund. Und ich, ich brauche ja doch auch so notwendig jemand, f\u00fcr den ich leben kann. Na, Gott sei Lob und Dank, \u2013 hier im Hause wird es wohl auch f\u00fcr eine alte Tante immer etwas zu tun geben.\n\nHedda. Ach, sprechen Sie doch nicht von uns.\n\nTesman. Ja, denk Dir nur, wie sch\u00f6n wir drei es zusammen haben k\u00f6nnten, wenn \u2013\n\nHedda. Wenn \u2013 ?\n\nHedda unruhig. Ach, nichts. Es wird schon noch in Ordnung kommen. Wir wollen es hoffen. Was?\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman. Ja, ja. Ihr zwei habt wohl miteinander zu sprechen, denk' ich mir. L\u00e4chelt. Und Hedda hat vielleicht Dir auch etwas zu erz\u00e4hlen, J\u00f6rgen. Adieu! Jetzt mu\u00df ich nach Haus zu Rina. Wendet sich bei der T\u00fcr um. Lieber Gott, wie wunderlich ist es doch, sich das vorzustellen! Jetzt ist Rina zugleich bei mir und beim seligen Jochum.\n\nTesman. Ja, denk nur, Tante Julle! Was?\n\nFr\u00e4ulein Tesman geht durch die Vorzimmert\u00fcr hinaus.\n\nHedda folgt Tesman kalt und forschend mit den Augen. Ich glaube fast, der Todesfall geht Dir mehr zu Herzen als ihr.\n\nTesman. Ach, es handelt sich nicht um den Todesfall allein. _Ejlerts_ wegen bin ich in so gro\u00dfer Unruhe.\n\nHedda rasch. Ist wieder etwas mit ihm passiert?\n\nTesman. Ich wollte schnell zu ihm hin heut nachmittag und ihm sagen, da\u00df das Manuskript gut aufgehoben ist.\n\nHedda. Nun? Und Du hast ihn nicht getroffen?\n\nTesman. Nein. Er war nicht zu Hause. Aber hernach bin ich Frau Elvsted begegnet, und die hat mir erz\u00e4hlt, er w\u00e4re heute fr\u00fch hier gewesen.\n\nHedda. Ja; Du warst grade weggegangen.\n\nTesman. Und er soll ja gesagt haben, er h\u00e4tte das Manuskript zerrissen. Was?\n\nHedda. Ja, das hat er behauptet.\n\nTesman. Aber mein Gott, dann war er doch ganz von Sinnen. Und da hast Du vermutlich auch nicht gewagt, es ihm zur\u00fcckzugeben, Hedda?\n\nHedda. Nein, er hat es nicht bekommen.\n\nTesman. Aber Du hast ihm doch wohl gesagt, da\u00df wir es h\u00e4tten?\n\nHedda. Nein. Rasch. Hast Du es vielleicht Frau Elvsted gesagt?\n\nTesman. Nein, das wollte ich nicht. Aber ihm selbst h\u00e4ttest Du es sagen m\u00fcssen. Denk nur, wenn er nun in seiner Verzweiflung hingeht und sich ein Leids antut! Gib mir das Manuskript, Hedda. Ich will auf der Stelle damit zu ihm hin\u00fcberspringen. Wo hast Du das Paket?\n\nHedda kalt und unbeweglich, auf den Lehnstuhl gest\u00fctzt. Ich habe es nicht mehr.\n\nTesman. Du hast es nicht! Um alles in der Welt \u2013 was meinst Du damit!\n\nHedda. Ich habe es verbrannt \u2013 von A bis Z!\n\nTesman f\u00e4hrt voll Schreck auf. Verbrannt! Ejlerts Manuskript verbrannt!\n\nHedda. Schrei nicht so! Das Dienstm\u00e4dchen k\u00f6nnte Dich sonst h\u00f6ren.\n\nTesman. Verbrannt! Aber du gro\u00dfer Gott \u2013! Nein, nein, nein, \u2013 das ist ja ganz unm\u00f6glich!\n\nHedda. Und doch ist es so.\n\nTesman. Aber wei\u00dft Du denn auch, was Du da getan hast, Hedda! Das ist ja eine gesetzwidrige Aneignung gefundenen Guts! Denk nur! Ja, frag' blo\u00df den Assessor, \u2013 da wirst Du es schon h\u00f6ren.\n\nHedda. Es ist gewi\u00df das Ratsamste, Du sprichst nicht dar\u00fcber, \u2013 weder zum Assessor noch zu irgend sonst jemand.\n\nTesman. Aber wie konntest Du denn nur so etwas Unerh\u00f6rtes tun! Wie bist Du nur auf _den_ Gedanken verfallen? Wie konnte so etwas \u00fcber Dich kommen? Gib Antwort! Was?\n\nHedda unterdr\u00fcckt ein kaum merkbares L\u00e4cheln. Ich habe es Dir zuliebe getan, J\u00f6rgen.\n\nTesman. Mir zuliebe!\n\nHedda. Als Du heute fr\u00fch nach Hause kamst und erz\u00e4hltest, er h\u00e4tte Dir vorgelesen \u2013\n\nTesman. Nun \u2013 und?\n\nHedda. Da hast Du gestanden, Du beneidetest ihn um dieses Werk.\n\nTesman. Herrgott, das war doch nicht so buchst\u00e4blich gemeint.\n\nHedda. Immerhin. Ich konnte den Gedanken nicht ertragen, da\u00df ein anderer Dich in den Schatten stellen sollte.\n\nTesman ungest\u00fcm, zwischen Zweifel und Freude schwankend. Hedda, \u2013 ist es wahr, was Du da sagst! \u2013 Ja aber, \u2013 aber \u2013 auf solche Art und Weise hast Du Deine Liebe zu mir fr\u00fcher nie gezeigt. Denk nur!\n\nHedda. Nun, so ist es besser, Du erf\u00e4hrst, \u2013 da\u00df eben jetzt \u2013 heftig abbrechend. Nein, nein, Du kannst Dich bei Tante Julle erkundigen. Sie wird Dir schon Bescheid sagen.\n\nTesman. Ach, ich glaube fast, ich verstehe Dich, Hedda! Schl\u00e4gt die H\u00e4nde zusammen. Nein, Herrgott, Du, \u2013 sollte das m\u00f6glich sein! Was?\n\nHedda. Schrei doch nicht so. Das M\u00e4dchen h\u00f6rt Dich sonst.\n\nTesman lachend, in \u00fcberm\u00e4\u00dfiger Freude. Das M\u00e4dchen! Nein, Du bist wirklich gut, Hedda! Das M\u00e4dchen, \u2013 das ist doch _Berte_! Ich will selber hinaus und es Berte erz\u00e4hlen.\n\nHedda pre\u00dft die H\u00e4nde zusammen wie in Verzweiflung. Ach, ich komme um, \u2013 ich komme um in alledem!\n\nTesman. In was denn, Hedda? Was?\n\nHedda kalt, sich beherrschend. In all dem \u2013 Komischen, \u2013 J\u00f6rgen.\n\nTesman. Komischen? Da\u00df ich so seelenvergn\u00fcgt bin? Immerhin \u2013. Vielleicht empfiehlt es sich doch, Berte nichts zu sagen.\n\nHedda. O doch, \u2013 warum nicht das auch?\n\nTesman. Nein, nein, noch nicht. Aber Tante Julle mu\u00df es unter allen Umst\u00e4nden erfahren.. Und dann auch _das_ , da\u00df Du anf\u00e4ngst, mich J\u00f6rgen zu nennen! Denk nur! Ach, wie wird sich Tante Julle freuen, \u2013 wie wird sie sich freuen!\n\nHedda. Wenn sie h\u00f6rt, da\u00df ich Ejlert L\u00f6vborgs Schrift verbrannt habe \u2013 Dir zuliebe?\n\nTesman. Nein, ist ja auch wahr! Die Geschichte mit der Handschrift, davon darf nat\u00fcrlich kein Mensch was wissen. Aber da\u00df Du f\u00fcr mich gl\u00fchst, Hedda, \u2013 das mu\u00df Tante Julle wahrhaftig erfahren. \u00dcbrigens h\u00e4tte ich gern gewu\u00dft, ob das bei jungen Frauen allgemein so ist, Du? Was?\n\nHedda. Du kannst Dich bei Tante Julle auch danach erkundigen.\n\nTesman. Ja, das will ich bei Gelegenheit wirklich tun. Sieht wieder unruhig und bedenklich aus. Nein aber, \u2013 aber das Manuskript! Guter Gott, wie schrecklich, \u2013 wenn man denkt \u2013 f\u00fcr den armen Ejlert! Trotz allem.\n\nFrau Elvsted, ebenso gekleidet, wie bei ihrem ersten Besuch, mit Hut und Mantel, kommt herein durch die Vorzimmert\u00fcr.\n\nFrau Elvsted gr\u00fc\u00dft eilig und sagt in gro\u00dfer Erregung: Ach, liebe Hedda, sei mir nicht b\u00f6se, wenn ich wiederkomme.\n\nHedda. Was ist Dir begegnet, Thea?\n\nTesman. Ist mit L\u00f6vborg wieder etwas passiert ? Was ?\n\nFrau Elvsted. Ach ja, \u2013 ich habe so gr\u00e4\u00dfliche Angst, es ist ihm ein Ungl\u00fcck zugesto\u00dfen.\n\nHedda fa\u00dft sie beim Arm. Ah, \u2013 glaubst Du das?\n\nTesman. Herrgott, aber nein \u2013 wie k\u00f6nnen Sie auf solchen Gedanken kommen, Frau Elvsted!\n\nFrau Elvsted. Ich h\u00f6rte ja doch, wie sie \u00fcber ihn gesprochen haben in der Pension, \u2013 gerade als ich eintrat. Ach, es gehen ja heut in der Stadt die unglaublichsten Ger\u00fcchte \u00fcber ihn um.\n\nTesman. Ja, denken Sie blo\u00df, das habe ich auch geh\u00f6rt! Und dabei kann ich bezeugen, da\u00df er direkt nach Haus gegangen ist und sich hingelegt hat. Denken Sie nur!\n\nHedda. Nun, \u2013 und was hat man denn in der Pension gesagt?\n\nFrau Elvsted. Ach, ich bekam \u00fcber nichts Auskunft. Ob sie nun selber nichts N\u00e4heres wu\u00dften oder \u2013. Sie h\u00fcllten sich in Schweigen, als sie mich sahen. Und zu fragen, das getraute ich mich nicht.\n\nTesman geht unruhig auf und ab. Wir wollen hoffen, \u2013 wir wollen hoffen, Sie haben falsch geh\u00f6rt, Frau Elvsted!\n\nFrau Elvsted. Nein, nein, ich bin sicher, da\u00df von ihm die Rede war. Und dann habe ich geh\u00f6rt, da\u00df man von so etwas wie Spital sprach oder \u2013\n\nTesman. Spital!\n\nHedda. Nein, \u2013 das ist doch wohl unm\u00f6glich!\n\nFrau Elvsted. Ach, ich bekam eine solche Todesangst seinetwegen. Und dann bin ich hinauf in seine Wohnung gegangen und habe _da_ nach ihm gefragt.\n\nHedda. Und _da_ zu hast Du Dich verstehen k\u00f6nnen, Thea!\n\nFrau Elvsted. Ja, was h\u00e4tte ich denn sonst tun sollen ? Denn ich glaubte die Ungewi\u00dfheit nicht l\u00e4nger ertragen zu k\u00f6nnen.\n\nTesman. Aber _Sie_ haben ihn wohl auch nicht getroffen? Was ?\n\nFrau Elvsted. Nein. Und die Leute konnten mir \u00fcber ihn weiter keine Auskunft geben. Er w\u00e4re nicht mehr nach Haus gekommen seit gestern nachmittag, sagten sie.\n\nTesman. Gestern! Denken Sie blo\u00df, da\u00df die Leute so etwas sagen konnten!\n\nFrau Elvsted. Ach, es mu\u00df etwas Schlimmes mit ihm passiert sein, \u2013 anders kann ich es mir gar nicht denken.\n\nTesman. Du, Hedda, \u2013 wie w\u00e4re es, wenn ich in die Stadt ginge und mich so an verschiedenen Stellen erkundigte \u2013?\n\nHedda. Nein, nein, \u2013 misch' Du Dich nur nicht da hinein.\n\nBrack, den Hut in der Hand, kommt durch die Vorzimmert\u00fcr herein, die Berte \u00f6ffnet und hinter ihm schlie\u00dft. Er sieht ernst aus und gr\u00fc\u00dft stumm.\n\nTesman. Ach, Sie sind es, lieber Assessor ? Was ?\n\nBrack. Ja, ich mu\u00dfte notwendigerweise noch heut zu Ihnen heraus.\n\nTesman. Ich sehe es Ihnen an, Sie haben die Nachricht bekommen von Tante Julle.\n\nBrack. Das habe ich auch, jawohl.\n\nTesman. Sie! Ist das nicht traurig? Was?\n\nBrack. Nun, lieber Tesman, wie man es eben nimmt.\n\nTesman sieht ihn unsicher an. Ist vielleicht sonst noch etwas geschehen?\n\nBrack. Allerdings.\n\nHedda gespannt. Etwas Trauriges, Herr Assessor?\n\nBrack. Auch, \u2013 wie man es nimmt, Frau Tesman.\n\nFrau Elvsted in unwillk\u00fcrlicher Erregtheit. Ach, es. ist etwas mit Ejlert L\u00f6vborg!\n\nBrack sieht sie obenhin an. Wie kommen Sie _darauf_ , gn\u00e4dige Frau? Wissen Sie vielleicht schon etwas \u2013?\n\nFrau Elvsted verwirrt. Nein, nein, ganz und gar nicht; aber \u2013\n\nTesman. Aber, um Gotteswillen, so sagen Sie es doch!\n\nBrack zuckt die Achseln. Nun denn, \u2013 leider, \u2013 man hat Ejlert L\u00f6vborg ins Spital gebracht. Er liegt wohl schon im Sterben.\n\nFrau Elvsted schreit auf. Ach Gott, ach Gott \u2013!\n\nTesman. Ins Spital! Und auch schon im Sterben!\n\nHedda unwillk\u00fcrlich. So schnell also \u2013!\n\nFrau Elvsted jammernd. Und _wir_ mu\u00dften ohne Vers\u00f6hnung scheiden, Hedda!\n\nHedda fl\u00fcstert. Aber Thea, \u2013 Thea!\n\nFrau Elvsted, ohne auf sie zu achten. Ich mu\u00df hin zu ihm! Mu\u00df ihn sehen, solange er noch am Leben ist!\n\nBrack. Das n\u00fctzt Ihnen nichts, gn\u00e4dige Frau. Es darf niemand zu ihm hinein.\n\nFrau Elvsted. Ach, so sagen Sie mir doch nur, was ihm zugesto\u00dfen ist! Was ist es denn?\n\nTesman. Er hat doch wohl nicht gar selbst \u2013! Was?\n\nHedda. Ja, das hat er, \u2013 davon bin ich \u00fcberzeugt.\n\nTesman. Hedda, \u2013 wie kannst Du denn \u2013!\n\nBrack, der sie best\u00e4ndig beobachtet. Sie haben es leider erraten, Frau Tesman.\n\nFrau Elvsted. Ach, wie entsetzlich!\n\nTesman. Selbst also! Denk nur!\n\nHedda. Sich erschossen!\n\nBrack. Auch erraten, Frau Tesman.\n\nFrau Elvsted sucht sich zu fassen. Wann ist es geschehen, Herr Assessor?\n\nBrack. Heut nachmittag. Zwischen drei und vier.\n\nTesman. Aber, lieber Gott, \u2013 wo hat er es denn getan? Was?\n\nBrack etwas unsicher. Wo? Ja, mein Lieber, \u2013 er hat es wohl in seinem Logis getan.\n\nFrau Elvsted. Nein, das kann nicht richtig sein. Denn ich war ja oben zwischen sechs und sieben.\n\nBrack. Na, dann also anderswo. Das wei\u00df ich nicht so genau. Ich wei\u00df nur, man hat ihn aufgefunden, hat \u2013. Er hatte sich durch die \u2013 Brust geschossen.\n\nFrau Elvsted. Ach, was f\u00fcr ein grauenhafter Gedanke! Da\u00df er auf solche Weise enden mu\u00dfte!\n\nHedda zu Brack. Durch die Brust?\n\nBrack. Ja, \u2013 wie ich sage.\n\nHedda. Also nicht durch die Schl\u00e4fe?.\n\nBrack. Durch die Brust, Frau Tesman.\n\nHedda. Ja, ja, \u2013 die Brust ist auch gut.\n\nBrack. Wie, gn\u00e4dige Frau?\n\nHedda abweisend. Ach, \u2013 nichts, nichts.\n\nTesman. Und die Wunde ist lebensgef\u00e4hrlich, sagen Sie? Was?\n\nBrack. Die Wunde ist absolut t\u00f6dlich. Wahrscheinlich ist es schon mit ihm aus.\n\nFrau Elvsted. Ja, ja, ich ahne es! Es ist aus! Aus! Ach, Hedda \u2013!\n\nTesman. Aber sagen Sie mir doch, \u2013 woher wissen Sie denn das alles?\n\nBrack kurz. Durch einen von der Polizei. Einen, mit dem ich zu sprechen hatte.\n\nHedda mit lauter Stimme. Endlich einmal eine Tat.\n\nTesman erschrocken. Um Gotteswillen, \u2013 was sagst Du, Hedda!\n\nHedda. Ich sage, da\u00df darin Sch\u00f6nheit ist.\n\nBrack. Hm, Frau Tesman \u2013\n\nTesman. Sch\u00f6nheit! Denk nur!\n\nFrau Elvsted. Ach, Hedda, wie kannst Du nur von Sch\u00f6nheit sprechen bei so etwas!\n\nHedda. Ejlert L\u00f6vborg hat die Rechnung mit sich selbst beglichen. Er hat den Mut gehabt, das zu tun, was \u2013 was getan werden mu\u00dfte.\n\nFrau Elvsted. Nein, glaub' doch nur nicht, da\u00df es auf _solche_ Art zugegangen ist! Was er getan hat, das hat er im Wahnsinn getan!\n\nTesman. In Verzweiflung hat er es getan!\n\nHedda. Das hat er nicht. Davon bin ich \u00fcberzeugt.\n\nFrau Elvsted. Doch, das hat er! Genau so wahnsinnig war er, als er unsere Hefte in St\u00fccke ri\u00df.\n\nBrack betroffen. Die Hefte ? Das Manuskript, meinen Sie? Das hat er in St\u00fccke gerissen?\n\nFrau Elvsted. Ja, das hat er heut nacht getan.\n\nTesman fl\u00fcstert leise. Ach, Hedda, dar\u00fcber kommen wir nie hinweg!\n\nBrack. Hm, das ist doch sonderbar.\n\nTesman geht durchs Zimmer. Man denke sich, so mu\u00df Ejlert aus der Welt gehen! Und nicht einmal das l\u00e4\u00dft er zur\u00fcck, was seinem Namen Dauer verliehen h\u00e4tte \u2013\n\nFrau Elvsted. Ach, k\u00f6nnte man es doch wieder zusammenstellen!\n\nTesman. Ja, denken Sie, wenn man das k\u00f6nnte! Ich wei\u00df nicht, was ich drum g\u00e4be \u2013\n\nFrau Elvsted. Am Ende ginge es doch, Herr Tesman.\n\nTesman. Was meinen Sie?\n\nFrau Elvsted sucht in ihrer Kleidertasche. Da, sehen Sie her. Ich habe die losen Zettel aufbewahrt, die er mit hatte, wenn er diktierte.\n\nHedda einen Schritt n\u00e4her. Ah \u2013!\n\nTesman. Die haben Sie aufbewahrt, Frau Elvsted! Was?\n\nFrau Elvsted. Ja, da sind sie. Ich habe sie mitgenommen, als ich abreiste. Und so sind sie in meiner Tasche geblieben \u2013\n\nTesman. Ach, lassen Sie doch einmal sehen!\n\nFrau Elvsted reicht ihm einen Sto\u00df kleiner Zettel. Aber es ist ein solches Durcheinander. Wie Kraut und R\u00fcben.\n\nTesman. Denken Sie mal, wenn wir uns dennoch durchfinden k\u00f6nnten! Vielleicht, wenn wir einander helfen \u2013\n\nFrau Elvsted. Ach ja, wir wollen es jedenfalls versuchen.\n\nTesman. Es _wird_ gehen! Es _mu\u00df_ gehen! Ich setze mein Leben daran!\n\nHedda. Du, J\u00f6rgen? Dein Leben?\n\nTesman. Ja, oder richtiger gesagt, die ganze Zeit, die ich zur Verf\u00fcgung habe. Meine eignen Sammlungen m\u00fcssen so lange zur\u00fcckstehen. Hedda, \u2013 Du verstehst mich? Was? Das ist eine Sache, die ich Ejlerts Andenken schuldig bin.\n\nHedda. Mag sein.\n\nTesman. Und nun, liebe Frau Elvsted, nun wollen wir uns zusammennehmen. Herrgott, es n\u00fctzt doch nichts, dem nachzugr\u00fcbeln, was nun einmal geschehen ist. Was? Wir wollen zusehen, wie wir die Ruhe unserer Seele so weit wieder erlangen, um \u2013\n\nFrau Elvsted. Ja, ja, Herr Tesman, ich will mein M\u00f6gliches versuchen.\n\nTesman. Na, so kommen Sie her. Wir wollen gleich einmal die Notizen durchsehen. Wohin sollen wir uns setzen? Hierher? Nein, lieber drin ins Zimmer! Entschuldigen Sie, Assessor! Kommen Sie nur, Frau Elvsted.\n\nFrau Elvsted. Ach Gott, \u2013 wenn wir es doch nur zustande br\u00e4chten!\n\nTesman und Frau Elvsted gehen hinein ins Hinterzimmer. Sie nimmt Hut und Mantel ab. Beide setzen sich an den Tisch unter die H\u00e4ngelampe und vertiefen sich eifrig in die Untersuchung der Papiere. Hedda geht zum Ofen hin und setzt sich in den Lehnstuhl. Unmittelbar darauf geht Brack hin zu ihr.\n\nHedda halblaut. Ach, Assessor, \u2013 was f\u00fcr eine Befreiung liegt doch _in dem,_ was sich mit Ejlert L\u00f6vborg zugetragen hat!\n\nBrack. Befreiung, Frau Hedda? Ja, f\u00fcr ihn ist es allerdings eine Befreiung \u2013\n\nHedda. Ich meine, f\u00fcr mich. Eine Befreiung, zu wissen, da\u00df doch noch eine freiwillige Tat des Muts in dieser Welt geschehen kann. Eine Tat, auf die unwillk\u00fcrlich ein Schimmer von Sch\u00f6nheit f\u00e4llt.\n\nBrack l\u00e4chelt. Hm, \u2013 liebe Frau Hedda \u2013\n\nHedda. Ach, ich wei\u00df schon, was Sie sagen wollen. Denn Sie sind doch auch eine Art Fachmensch, Sie genau wie \u2013 na!\n\nBrack sieht sie fest an. Ejlert L\u00f6vborg ist Ihnen mehr gewesen, als Sie vielleicht vor sich selber eingestehen wollen. Oder sollte ich mich darin irren?\n\nHedda. Auf so etwas gebe ich Ihnen keine Antwort. Ich wei\u00df nur, da\u00df Ejlert L\u00f6vborg den Mut gehabt hat, das Leben nach seinem eigenen Kopf zu leben. Und dann jetzt \u2013 das Gro\u00dfe! Das, worauf Sch\u00f6nheit ruht. Da\u00df er die Kraft und den Willen hatte, vom Fest des Lebens aufzubrechen \u2013 so fr\u00fch.\n\nBrack. Es tut mir leid, Frau Hedda, \u2013 aber ich bin gen\u00f6tigt, Sie aus einem sch\u00f6nen Wahn herauszurei\u00dfen.\n\nHedda. Einem Wahn?\n\nBrack. Aus dem man Sie \u00fcbrigens ohnedies bald herausgerissen h\u00e4tte.\n\nHedda. Nun \u2013 und was ist?\n\nBrack. Er hat sich nicht \u2013 freiwillig erschossen.\n\nHedda. Nicht freiwillig!\n\nBrack. Nein. Die Sache mit Ejlert L\u00f6vborg verh\u00e4lt sich nicht ganz so, wie ich sie dargestellt habe.\n\nHedda in Spannung. Haben Sie etwas verschwiegen? Was denn?\n\nBrack. Der armen Frau Elvsted wegen habe ich mir ein paar kleine Umschreibungen erlaubt.\n\nHedda. Und welche?\n\nBrack. Erstens, da\u00df er wirklich schon gestorben ist.\n\nHedda. Im Spital?\n\nBrack. Ja. Und ohne das Bewu\u00dftsein wiedererlangt zu haben.\n\nHedda. Was haben Sie noch verschwiegen?\n\nBrack. Da\u00df der Vorgang sich nicht in seinem Zimmer abgespielt hat.\n\nHedda. Nun, das kann ja auch so ziemlich einerlei sein.\n\nBrack. Nicht so ganz. Ich mu\u00df Ihnen n\u00e4mlich sagen, \u2013 L\u00f6vborg wurde erschossen aufgefunden in \u2013 in Fr\u00e4ulein Dianas Boudoir.\n\nHedda will aufspringen, sinkt aber zur\u00fcck. Das ist unm\u00f6glich, Herr Assessor! _Da_ kann er heut nicht wieder gewesen sein!\n\nBrack. Er war heut nachmittag da. Er kam, um etwas zur\u00fcckzufordern, das man ihm genommen h\u00e4tte, wie er sagte. Sprach verworrenes Zeug von einem Kind, das abhanden gekommen w\u00e4re.\n\nHedda. Ah, \u2013 darum also \u2013\n\nBrack. Ich dachte mir, es k\u00f6nnte vielleicht sein Manuskript gewesen sein. Aber das hat er doch selber vernichtet, wie ich h\u00f6re. Dann mu\u00df es also wohl die Brieftasche gewesen sein.\n\nHedda. Das wird es wohl. \u2013 Und dort \u2013 dort wurde er also gefunden.\n\nBrack. Ja, dort. In der Brusttasche eine abgeschossene Pistole. Der Schu\u00df hatte ihn t\u00f6dlich getroffen.\n\nHedda. In die Brust, \u2013 jawohl.\n\nBrack. Nein, \u2013 er traf ihn in den Unterleib.\n\nHedda sieht zu ihm auf mit einem Ausdruck von Ekel. Auch das noch! Ach, das L\u00e4cherliche und Gemeine, es legt sich wie ein Fluch auf alles, was ich nur anr\u00fchre.\n\nBrack. Es kommt noch etwas hinzu, Frau Hedda. Was auch ins Gebiet der Gemeinheit geh\u00f6rt.\n\nHedda. Und das ist?\n\nBrack. Die Pistole, die er bei sich hatte \u2013\n\nHedda atemlos. Nun! Was ist mit der!\n\nBrack. Die mu\u00df er gestohlen haben.\n\nHedda springt auf. Gestohlen! Das ist nicht wahr! Das hat er nicht!\n\nBrack. Es ist unm\u00f6glich anders. Er _mu\u00df_ sie gestohlen haben \u2013. Pst!\n\nTesman und Frau Elvsted sind vom Tisch im Hinterzimmer aufgestanden und kommen in den Salon.\n\nTesman mit den Papieren in beiden H\u00e4nden. Du, Hedda, \u2013 es ist mir fast ein Ding der Unm\u00f6glichkeit, da drin unter der H\u00e4ngelampe etwas zu sehen. Denk Dir!\n\nHedda. Ja, ich denke.\n\nTesman. K\u00f6nnen wir uns vielleicht ein bi\u00dfchen an Deinen Schreibtisch setzen? Was?\n\nHedda. Meinetwegen gern. Schnell. Nein, warte! La\u00df mich erst abr\u00e4umen.\n\nTesman. Ach, das brauchst Du gar nicht, Hedda. Es ist Platz genug da.\n\nHedda. Nein, nein. La\u00df mich erst abr\u00e4umen, sag' ich, \u2013 und das hier solange hinein aufs Piano tragen. So!\n\nSie hat einen Gegenstand, mit Notenbl\u00e4ttern bedeckt, unter dem B\u00fccherfach hervorgezogen, legt noch ein paar andere Bl\u00e4tter dar\u00fcber und tr\u00e4gt alles hinein ins Hinterzimmer links. Tesman legt die Zettel auf den Schreibtisch und tr\u00e4gt die Lampe vom Tisch an der Ecke dahin. Tesman und Frau Elvsted setzen sich und nehmen die Arbeit wieder auf. Hedda kommt zur\u00fcck.\n\nHedda hinter Frau Elvsteds Stuhl, bef\u00fchlt ihr leicht das Haar. Nun, s\u00fc\u00dfe Thea, \u2013 wie steht es mit Ejlert L\u00f6vborgs Denkmal?\n\nFrau Elvsted blickt entmutigt zu ihr auf. Ach Gott, \u2013 es wird gewi\u00df ungeheuer schwer sein, sich darin zurechtzufinden.\n\nTesman. Es _mu\u00df_ gehen. Unter allen Umst\u00e4nden. Und Ordnung zu bringen in die Papiere anderer, \u2013 das ist so recht eine Sache, die mir liegt.\n\nHedda geht hin zum Ofen und setzt sich auf eins der Taburette. Brack steht \u00fcber sie gebeugt, wobei er sich auf den Lehnstuhl st\u00fctzt.\n\nHedda fl\u00fcstert: Was haben Sie da von der Pistole gesagt?\n\nBrack leise. Da\u00df er sie gestohlen haben mu\u00df.\n\nHedda. Warum gerade gestohlen?\n\nBrack. Weil jede andere Erkl\u00e4rung ausgeschlossen sein _mu\u00df_ , Frau Hedda.\n\nHedda. Ja so.\n\nBrack blickt sie leicht an. L\u00f6vborg ist nat\u00fcrlich heut fr\u00fch hier gewesen. Nicht wahr?\n\nHedda. Ja.\n\nBrack. Waren Sie mit ihm allein?\n\nHedda. Ja, eine Weile.\n\nBrack. Haben Sie das Zimmer w\u00e4hrend seiner Abwesenheit nicht verlassen?\n\nHedda. Nein.\n\nBrack. Denken Sie nach. Waren Sie auch nicht einen Augenblick drau\u00dfen?\n\nHedda. Ja, vielleicht einen kleinen Augenblick \u2013 im Vorzimmer drau\u00dfen.\n\nBrack. Und wo hatten Sie Ihren Pistolenkasten so lange?\n\nHedda. Den hatte ich unten in \u2013\n\nBrack. Na, Frau Hedda?\n\nHedda. Der Kasten stand da hinten auf dem Schreibtisch.\n\nBrack. Haben Sie seitdem nachgesehen, ob beide Pistolen drin sind?\n\nHedda. Nein.\n\nBrack. Ist auch nicht n\u00f6tig. Ich habe die Pistole gesehen, die L\u00f6vborg bei sich hatte. Und ich habe sie sofort wiedererkannt von gestern. Und von fr\u00fcher auch.\n\nHedda. Haben Sie sie vielleicht?\n\nBrack. Nein, die Polizei hat sie.\n\nHedda. Wozu braucht die Polizei die Pistole?\n\nBrack. Um dem Besitzer auf die Spur zu kommen.\n\nHedda. Meinen Sie, er kann entdeckt werden?\n\nBrack beugt sich hinunter zu ihr und fl\u00fcstert: Nein, Hedda Gabler; solange ich schweige \u2013 nicht.\n\nHedda sieht ihn scheu an. Und wenn Sie _nicht_ schweigen, \u2013 was dann?\n\nBrack zuckt die Achseln. Es bleibt ja immer noch der Ausweg, da\u00df die Pistole gestohlen ist.\n\nHedda fest. Lieber sterben!\n\nBrack l\u00e4chelt. So etwas _sagt_ man. Aber man _tut_ es nicht.\n\nHedda ohne zu antworten. Und wenn nun die Pistole also _nicht_ gestohlen ist. Und der Besitzer wird entdeckt \u2013 was kommt dann?\n\nBrack. Ja, Hedda, \u2013 dann kommt der Skandal.\n\nHedda. Der Skandal!\n\nBrack. Ja, der Skandal, \u2013 wovor Sie eine solche m\u00f6rderische Angst haben. Sie m\u00fcssen nat\u00fcrlich aufs Gericht. Sie und auch Fr\u00e4ulein Diana. Sie mu\u00df ja doch \u00fcber den Sachverhalt aussagen. Ob es ein Fehlschu\u00df war oder T\u00f6tung. Hat er die Pistole aus der Tasche ziehen wollen, um ihr zu drohen? Und ist der Schu\u00df dann losgegangen? Oder hat sie ihm die Pistole aus der Hand gerissen, ihn erschossen und die Pistole wieder in seine Tasche gesteckt? Das k\u00f6nnte ihr schon \u00e4hnlich sehen. Denn sie ist ein handfestes Weibsbild, besagtes Fr\u00e4ulein Diana.\n\nHedda. Aber diese ganzen Widerw\u00e4rtigkeiten gehen doch _mich_ nichts an.\n\nBrack. Nein. Aber Sie haben zu antworten auf die Frage: warum haben Sie Ejlert L\u00f6vborg die Pistole gegeben? Und welche Schl\u00fcsse wird man ziehen aus der Tatsache, da\u00df Sie sie ihm gegeben haben?\n\nHedda senkt den Kopf. Das ist wahr. Daran habe ich nicht gedacht.\n\nBrack. Nun, gl\u00fccklicherweise ist keine Gefahr, solange ich schweige.\n\nHedda sieht auf zu ihm. Ich bin also in Ihrer Hand, Herr Assessor. Mit Haut und Haar bin ich in Ihrer Gewalt fortan.\n\nBrack noch leiser fl\u00fcsternd. Liebste Hedda, \u2013 glauben Sie mir, \u2013 ich werde die Situation nicht mi\u00dfbrauchen.\n\nHedda. Aber doch in Ihrer Gewalt. Abh\u00e4ngig von Ihrem Wunsch und Willen. Unfrei. Unfrei also! Steht mit Heftigkeit auf. Nein, \u2013 den Gedanken ertrage ich nicht! Nie und nimmer.\n\nBrack sieht sie halb sp\u00f6ttisch an. Man pflegt sich doch sonst ins Unvermeidliche zu f\u00fcgen.\n\nHedda erwidert den Blick. Ja, mag sein.\n\nSie geht hin\u00fcber zum Schreibtisch.\n\nHedda unterdr\u00fcckt ein unwillk\u00fcrliches L\u00e4cheln und ahmt Tesmans Tonfall nach. Na? Will es gelingen, J\u00f6rgen? Was?\n\nTesman. Ach, wei\u00df der liebe Himmel. Jedenfalls wird die Geschichte eine Arbeit auf Monate hinaus werden.\n\nHedda wie oben. Denk einer an! F\u00e4hrt leicht mit den H\u00e4nden durch Frau Elvsteds Haar. Kommt Dir das nicht wunderlich vor, Thea? Jetzt sitzst Du hier zusammen mit Tesman, \u2013 ebenso wie Du fr\u00fcher mit Ejlert L\u00f6vborg zusammen gesessen hast.\n\nFrau Elvsted. Ach Gott, wenn ich Deinen Mann nur auch begeistern k\u00f6nnte.\n\nHedda. Ach, das kommt schon \u2013 mit der Zeit.\n\nTesman. Ja, wei\u00dft Du was, Hedda, \u2013 mir scheint wirklich, ich versp\u00fcre nachgerade schon so etwas. Aber setz' Du Dich nur wieder zum Assessor.\n\nHedda. K\u00f6nnt Ihr zwei mich hier zu gar nichts brauchen?\n\nTesman. Nein, zu absolut nichts. Wendet den Kopf. K\u00fcnftig m\u00fcssen wirklich Sie so liebensw\u00fcrdig sein und Hedda Gesellschaft leisten, lieber Assessor!\n\nBrack mit einem Blick auf Hedda. Wird mir ein ganz au\u00dferordentliches Vergn\u00fcgen sein.\n\nHedda. Danke sehr. Aber jetzt bin ich m\u00fcde. Ich will mich da drin ein bi\u00dfchen aufs Sofa legen.\n\nTesman. Ja, tu das, mein Schatz. Was?\n\nHedda geht ins Hinterzimmer und zieht die Vorh\u00e4nge hinter sich zu. Kurze Pause. Pl\u00f6tzlich h\u00f6rt man, wie sie eine wilde Tanzmelodie auf dem Piano spielt.\n\nFrau Elvsted f\u00e4hrt vom Stuhl auf. Uh, \u2013 was ist das!\n\nTesman l\u00e4uft zur T\u00fcr\u00f6ffnung. Aber, liebste Hedda, \u2013 spiel' doch heut keine T\u00e4nze! Denk doch an Tante Rina! Und auch an Ejlert!\n\nHedda streckt den Kopf zwischen den Vorh\u00e4ngen hervor. Und an Tante Julle. Und an die ganze Gesellschaft. \u2013 Gleich werde ich still sein.\n\nSie schlie\u00dft die Vorh\u00e4nge wieder hinter sich.\n\nTesman am Schreibtisch. Es ist gewi\u00df nicht gut f\u00fcr sie, uns bei dieser traurigen Arbeit zu sehen. Wissen Sie was, \u2013 Frau Elvsted, \u2013 Sie sollten zu Tante Julle ziehen. Dann komme ich an den Abenden hinauf. Und dann k\u00f6nnten wir uns _da_ an die Arbeit setzen. Was?\n\nFrau Elvsted. Ja, das w\u00e4re vielleicht das beste \u2013\n\nHedda aus dem Hinterzimmer. Ich h\u00f6re recht wohl, was Du sagst, Tesman. Aber wie soll _ich_ mir denn hier drau\u00dfen die Abende vertreiben?\n\nTesman bl\u00e4ttert in den Papieren. Ach, der Assessor ist gewi\u00df so liebensw\u00fcrdig und besucht Dich trotzdem.\n\nBrack im Lehnstuhl, ruft munter: Gern, Frau Tesman, \u2013 jeden lieben Abend! Wir zwei werden uns hier schon ganz gut unterhalten!\n\nHedda hell und laut. Ja, die Hoffnung haben Sie wohl, Herr Assessor? Sie, als einziger Hahn im Korbe \u2013\n\nEin Schu\u00df f\u00e4llt drinnen. Tesman, Frau Elvsted und Brack fahren in die H\u00f6he.\n\nTesman. Ach, da wirtschaftet sie wieder mit den Pistolen herum!\n\nEr schl\u00e4gt die Vorh\u00e4nge zur Seite und l\u00e4uft hinein. Frau Elvsted gleichfalls. Hedda liegt leblos ausgestreckt auf dem Sofa. Verwirrung und Schreien. Berte kommt verst\u00f6rt von rechts.\n\nTesman schreit Brack zu: Sich erschossen! In die Schl\u00e4fe geschossen! Denken Sie blo\u00df!\n\nBrack halb ohnm\u00e4chtig im Lehnstuhl. Aber, barmherziger Gott, \u2013 so etwas _tut_ man doch nicht!\n\n## Henrik Ibsen - Biografie\n\nInhaltsverzeichnis\n\nHenrik Johan Ibsen wurde am 20. M\u00e4rz 1828 zu Skien (sprich: Schien) geboren als der Sohn des Handelsherrn Knud Henriksen Ibsen (1797 bis 1877) und der Marichen Cornelia Martine Altenburg, die zu der Zeit ihrer Verehelichung sechsundzwanzig Jahre z\u00e4hlte und aus einer sehr wohlhabenden Kaufmannsfamilie stammte (gest. 1869). Sein Geburtshaus stand am Markt, hie\u00df Stockmanns Gaard und hatte die merkw\u00fcrdige Nachbarschaft von Kirche, Pranger, Arresthaus und Irrenzelle. In Ibsens Stamm mischte sich d\u00e4nisches, deutsches, schottisches Blut, w\u00e4hrend gerade norwegisches \u2013 und dies mu\u00df betont werden \u2013 bei seinen Vorfahren nicht nachzuweisen ist. In Henriks fr\u00fchester Jugend herrschte Wohlstand in seines Vaters Hause; man geh\u00f6rte zu den \u00bbAristokraten\u00ab des St\u00e4dtchens und lebte auf gro\u00dfem Fu\u00dfe. Dann, als Ibsen ungef\u00e4hr acht Jahre war, kam der Zusammenbruch, die gesellschaftliche Deklassierung. Der Knabe empfand, was es hei\u00dft, \u00bbselber nicht mittun\u00ab zu d\u00fcrfen an der Tafel des Lebens und \u00bbauf der Stra\u00dfe zu stehen\u00ab, vor den \u00bbhellen Fensterscheiben\u00ab. Gl\u00fcck und Ende des Hauses \u00bbGynt\u00ab ist geschildert nach frohen und traurigen Kindheitserinnerungen; und wenn uns in des Photographen Ekdal Dachstube die Tragikom\u00f6die der Menschheit ergreift, so haben wir auch hier herbe Wirklichkeitsz\u00fcge. Mit der gesellschaftlichen Existenz wurde auch Ibsens Bildungsleben geknickt. Was ihm an Wissen zu erarbeiten \u00fcbrig blieb, das sah er erst sp\u00e4ter, als er in Christiania Anschlu\u00df an ein akademisches Studium suchte. Damals aber mu\u00dfte er, ein F\u00fcnfzehnj\u00e4hriger, gleich nach der Konfirmation (1849) Haus und Schulbank verlassen und den Kampf ums t\u00e4gliche Brot aufnehmen. Er w\u00e4re gern Maler geworden, doch diesen Wunsch mu\u00df er bald aufgeben. Er kam also nach Grimstad zum Apotheker J. A. Reimann, unter dessen Nachfolger Lars Nielsen er Gehilfe wurde. Er steuert im stillen auf die medizinische Wissenschaft los und sucht sich in den Freistunden zum Abiturientenexamen vorzubereiten. Bei seiner Familie in Skien ab und zu ein Besuch; im allgemeinen l\u00f6st sich der Zusammenhang mit den Seinigen, \u00e4u\u00dferlich wie innerlich. Er kann seine Eltern nicht einmal materiell unterst\u00fctzen, denn er selbst kommt von Notlage in Notlage, und als ihm gl\u00fccklichere Zeiten anbrachen, da ist er ihnen ein \u00bbFremder\u00ab geworden. Sein Geistesleben hatte keinerlei Ber\u00fchrungsfl\u00e4chen mit den Ideenkreisen des Vaterhauses, wo man konservativ f\u00fchlte und bibelgl\u00e4ubig und von einer strengen Religiosit\u00e4t war, w\u00e4hrend er allm\u00e4hlich von jeder \u00e4u\u00dferen Autorit\u00e4t sich freimachte und als \u00bbVollblutegoist\u00ab nur seinem Lebenswerke diente. Und die revolution\u00e4re Weltanschauung, die in seinen Dichtungen durchbrach, mu\u00dfte weiter und wesentlich die Entfremdung f\u00f6rdern, so da\u00df von zwei nach Amerika ausgewanderten Br\u00fcdern in seinem sp\u00e4teren Leben nicht einmal mehr die Rede war; ein dritter Bruder, Ole Paus Ibsen, ist noch in Skien lebend nachzuweisen, blieb aber auch zeitlebens dem Dichter fern. Nur mit seiner einzigen Schwester Hedvig (geb. 1832 \u2013 sie heiratete den Schiffskapit\u00e4n Stousland in Skien und hat den Bruder \u00fcberlebt) ist Ibsen immer in einer gewissen Verbindung geblieben. In der herrlichen Kindesgestalt der \u00bbWildente\u00ab hat er diese Schwester geschildert, so wie ihr Bild aus den Jugendtagen vor seinem Herzen stand. Von Hedvig Stousland hat Bj\u00f6rnstjerne Bj\u00f6rnson einmal gesagt: nachdem er ihre Bekanntschaft gemacht habe, verstehe er erst; wie sehr der Hang Ibsens zum Mystizismus ein Familienerbe sei. In ganz fr\u00fchen Jahren befa\u00dfte sie sich viel mit religi\u00f6sen Fragen; sie hat gewi\u00df auch den Versuch gewagt, auf Ibsen einzuwirken; freilich ohne positives Ergebnis. Ihre feine, warme und starke Seele aber fand allm\u00e4hlich und in der Stille den Weg zu einer milden und verzeihenden Toleranz; so ging ihr auch f\u00fcr ihres \u00e4lteren Bruders so ganz anders geartete Entwicklung das Verst\u00e4ndnis auf. Ihr hat Ibsen schon fr\u00fch seine Zukunftspl\u00e4ne anvertraut. Er war zwanzig Jahre alt, als er ihr bei seinem letzten Besuch in Skien erkl\u00e4rte: er habe den Willen, \u00bbdas Allerh\u00f6chste und Allervollkommenste zu erreichen, das ein Mensch erreichen k\u00f6nnte in Gr\u00f6\u00dfe und Klarheit\u00ab, und so wolle er sterben. Voll Freude hat die Schwester gesehen, wie er sich vorw\u00e4rts rang zu einer immer reineren und klareren Lebensanschauung, wie das gute Herz seiner Kindheit st\u00e4rker und st\u00e4rker in des reifen Mannes Urteil \u00fcber die Menschen durchbrach.\n\nDie Grimstader Jahre nun waren f\u00fcr Ibsen auch insofern wichtig, als er den Grund seines Dichterwesens legte. Dem armen Apothekergehilfen waren die feinen Kreise des St\u00e4dtchens verschlossen, wo gesellschaftlich reiche Reeder- und Kaufmannsfamilien dominierten; er stand allein und trat in Opposition zu der kleinen Gesellschaft. Er schrieb satirische Reime und zeichnete scharfe Karikaturen. Sein Betragen war alles andere eher als b\u00fcrgerlich. Ums Jahr 1848 war die Welt politisch erregt, man r\u00fcttelte an den Ketten, und Ibsen r\u00fcttelte mit. Er sendet nach Ungarn ein gesinnungst\u00fcchtiges Freiheitslied und erhebt den Weckruf zur Einigung an die norwegischen und schwedischen Br\u00fcder: sie sollen dem d\u00e4nischen Bruder helfen, der \u00bbvon der deutschen wilden Horde\u00ab bedr\u00e4ngt wird. Ibsen gewinnt zwei Freunde. Beide geh\u00f6ren zu den zugereisten Leuten: Christoffer Lorentz Due und \u00d6le Schulerud. Sie wurden in seine Dichtertr\u00e4ume eingeweiht \u2013 und sie standen an der Wiege des \u00bbCatilina\u00ab-Dramas, des Hauptergebnisses Grimstader Mu\u00dfestunden. Schulerud mu\u00dfte mit dem Manuskript nach Christiania reisen, um eine B\u00fchne und einen Verleger f\u00fcr die Trag\u00f6die zu suchen. Aber Schuleruds Bem\u00fchungen gediehen selbst zur Trag\u00f6die, die freilich nach f\u00fcnfundzwanzig Jahren dem reifen Dichter in den Gesichtswinkel der Kom\u00f6die r\u00fcckte.\n\nAls \u00bbCatilina\u00ab im Selbstverlage des Verfassers erschien, war Ibsen schon nach Christiania gegangen, um die Universit\u00e4t zu beziehen. Er besuchte zun\u00e4chst die ber\u00fchmte Abiturienten-Presse des alten Heltberg. In zwei F\u00e4chern fiel er durch \u2013 eins davon war das Griechische, so da\u00df er sp\u00e4ter einmal von sich sagen konnte, er sei kein gro\u00dfer Grieche gewesen; \u2013 aber Ibsen war auch wie sein Bischof Nikolas (\u00bbKronpr\u00e4tendenten\u00ab) kein gro\u00dfer Lateiner. Er machte von dem Rechte, sich in beiden F\u00e4chern nachpr\u00fcfen zu lassen, keinen Gebrauch und war auf diese Weise niemals immatrikulierter Student. Als armer Literat fristete er ein h\u00f6chst k\u00fcmmerliches Dasein. Radikaler Ideen voll, st\u00fcrzt er sich in die politische Bewegung. Seine Wohnung teilt einige Zeit der Studiosus Theodor Abildgaard, der in die sogenannte Arbeiterbewegung des Marcus Thrane praktisch eingegriffen hatte. Ibsen gewinnt F\u00fchlung nun auch mit den Arbeiterf\u00fchrern und nimmt an den sozialen und nationalen Wirrungen teil, an den Versammlungen und Demonstrationen; er schreibt sogar f\u00fcr das Kampfblatt der Arbeitervereine. Im Juli 1851 entging er mit knapper Not der Verhaftung. In dieser Christianiaer Fr\u00fchzeit hatten besondern Einflu\u00df auf sein geistiges Leben und seine schriftstellerische Entwicklung Aasmund Vinje und Paul Botten-Hansen; mit ihnen gr\u00fcndete er ein Wochenblatt \u00bbf\u00fcr literarische Satire und politische Opposition\u00ab (\u00bbDer Mann\u00ab und sp\u00e4ter \u00bbAndhrimner\u00ab betitelt, nach dem Walhallkoch der Edda). Das Blatt, nach dem Vorbild des d\u00e4nischen \u00bbKorsaren\u00ab entstanden, folgte den Ideen von 1848 und der Richtung des \u00bbjungen Deutschland\u00ab: Gedanken von der Ver\u00e4nderlichkeit des Wahrheitsbegriffes, vom Parteiwesen, von der kompakten Majorit\u00e4t und von dem Verh\u00e4ltnis des Einzelnen und Einsamen zu dieser Majorit\u00e4t stellen \u00bbVolksfeind\u00ab-Keime dar.\n\nVinje, Bauernbursch, Schulmeister und Journalist, stand, wie Ibsen, in g\u00e4rendem Sturm und Drang und bereitete sich, wie Ibsen, mit z\u00e4hem Eifer zu einer aktiven Teilnahme an den norwegischen Geistesk\u00e4mpfen vor. Bei Vinje fand Ibsen schon sichtbarer entwickelt das Element einer herben Skepsis, die ihm selbst im Blut lag: jener Skepsis, die dem Streben der Zeitgenossen mit Hohn und Spott begegnete und alles Gro\u00dfe und Erhabene piet\u00e4tlos in den Staub zog. F\u00fcr Vinje war alle Wahrheit nur relativ; \u2013 die Wahrheit sei in unaufh\u00f6rlichem Wachsen und Werden. Und aus dieser Erkenntnis abstrahierte er seine \u00bbDoppelanschauung\u00ab (\u00bbTvisyn\u00ab) \u2013 jenen zwiefachen Gesichtspunkt, von dem aus dasselbe Ding Rechtens und Unrechtens sein konnte. Diese Erkenntnis war es, die seinem ironischen Stil die originale Kunstform gab \u2013 jenem Stil, der zugleich schl\u00e4gt und streichelt, weint und lacht \u2013, der, nach Vinjes eigenen Worten, \u00bbauf des Messers Schneide zwischen Himmelreich und H\u00f6lle tanzt\u00ab. Es war ein Stil der Zweifelsucht; in der Worte lustigem Tanz glitt leicht die pers\u00f6nliche Verantwortung weg. Eben darin lag eine Gefahr f\u00fcr Ibsen wie f\u00fcr Vinje: erst hatten sie sich zu des Zweifels St\u00e4rke durchringen m\u00fcssen, und nun mu\u00dften sie mit ihrem Zweifel selbst k\u00e4mpfen. Das war die Geistesbr\u00fcderschaft, die sie zusammenf\u00fchrte. Ein besonders intimes Verh\u00e4ltnis jedoch hat sich zwischen ihnen kaum entwickelt, und als reife M\u00e4nner kamen die beiden Dichter einander mehr und mehr aus dem Gesichtskreis, \u2013 Vinje, \u00bbder nationale\u00ab, der Sprachstrebler, vertrug sich nicht mit dem Skandinavisten und Germanen Ibsen. Aber bei beiden siegte der leidenschaftliche Kampfeswille \u00fcber die Zweifelsucht. Wohl bewahrten sie sich den wider alle Autorit\u00e4t emp\u00f6rten Radikalismus des Zweifels: doch sie gelangten \u00fcber ihn hinaus zu einer intensiven Hingabe an einen Kampf f\u00fcr Ideen. Botten-Hansen, ebenfalls von b\u00e4uerlicher Herkunft, war ein Mann von noch gediegeneren und umfassenderen Kenntnissen als Vinje, und ein Mensch mit einem ganz selbst\u00e4ndigen und originalen Gedankenleben. In mancher Beziehung repr\u00e4sentierte er dieselbe Geistesrichtung wie Vinje; er war ein ironischer, beinahe blasierter Skeptiker. Aber sein Zweifel ging den Dingen nicht so derb auf den Leib; sein Spott war milder, mit Humor versetzt. Es hie\u00df von ihm, \u00bber schreibe so fein und zweischneidig wie kaum einer\u00ab, und Ibsen hat f\u00fcr seinen Stil, wie er sich namentlich in der \u00bbKom\u00f6die der Liebe\u00ab und in \u00bbPeer Gynt\u00ab darstellt, ungemein viel von Botten-Hansen gelernt. Das Muster Botten-Hansens war Holbergs Ausdrucksform: und frisch, fromm, frei erstand dieser Holbergische Geist wieder in Botten-Hansens journalistischer T\u00e4tigkeit. Holberg war \u00fcberhaupt die Parole in dieser Freundestrias. Ibsens tiefe Liebe f\u00fcr Holberg und seinen literarischen Befreiungskampf stammt aus jenen Tagen.\n\nDie erste Nummer des \u00bbAndhrimner\u00ab erschien am 5. Januar, die letzte am 28. September 1851: Botten-Hansen tritt Anfang Oktober d. J. in die Redaktion des \u00bbIllustreret Nyhedsblad\u00ab (\u00bbIllustrierte Neueste Nachrichten\u00ab) ein, das er bis 1866 leitete und seinen Freunden Ibsen und Vinje zur Verf\u00fcgung stellte, so oft sie einer literarischen Unterst\u00fctzung bedurften. Hier ver\u00f6ffentlichte Ibsen seine kleineren dichterischen Arbeiten, hier k\u00e4mpfte er seine k\u00fcnstlerischen Lebensinteressen durch, hier k\u00e4mpfte man auch f\u00fcr ihn selbst, den Reformer von Drama und B\u00fchne. Ibsen war in die praktische Theaterlaufbahn abgeschwenkt; unter dem 6. November 1851 erhielt er einen Ruf als Regisseur und Hausdichter an \u00bbNorwegens erste nationale B\u00fchne\u00ab, an das Bergener Theater, das von \u00d6le Bull am 2. Januar 1850 gestiftet worden war.\n\n\u00bbIch habe damit angefangen, mich als Norweger zu f\u00fchlen\u00ab \u2013 in Bergen hatte Ibsen als jungnorwegischer Dramatiker seine erste Epoche: die Schauspiele \u00bbDas H\u00fcnengrab\u00ab, \u00bbFrau Inger auf \u00d6strot\u00ab, \u00bbDas Fest auf Solhaug\u00ab, \u00bbDie Johannisnacht\u00ab, \u00bbOlaf Liljekrans\u00ab (bereits 1850 in Christiania unter dem Titel \u00bbRypen i Justedalen\u00ab entworfen) werden in Bergen aufgef\u00fchrt; die \u00bbHelden auf Helgeland\u00ab (\u00bbNordische Heerfahrt\u00ab) werden zun\u00e4chst in Versen skizziert, dann in Prosa umgeformt und ein gutes St\u00fcck vorw\u00e4rts gebracht. Am Schlu\u00df des Bergener Aufenthaltes (1857) steht, programmartig in die Zukunft deutend, die Schrift \u00fcber die Kaempeviser und ihre Bedeutung f\u00fcr die Kunstpoesie: dieser Aufsatz zeigt, wie tief die Sagen seines Volkes Ibsen ergriffen haben, wie er bedacht war, die eigene Poesie daraus zu n\u00e4hren. Der gro\u00dfe Aufsatz, der sich scheinbar nur mit Lyrik und Epik besch\u00e4ftigte und wissenschaftlich von jeher viel umstritten war, kann als eine Auseinandersetzung des Dichters mit seinem Stoff, als Vorarbeit zum dramatischen Schaffen gelten. Die Schaffensstimmung Ibsens kennzeichnet eine theaterkritische Bemerkung, worin er von einem nationalen Schriftsteller den Grundton verlangt, \u00bbder uns von Berg und Tal, von Hang und Strand, vor allem aber aus unserem eigenen Innern entgegenklingt\u00ab.\n\nDas Leben schl\u00e4gt in Ibsens Dichtung hinein. Es gibt einen biographisch wichtigen Brief an den Kopenhagener Literaturprofessor Peter Hansen; da (28. Okt. 1874) schreibt Ibsen: \u00bb\u203aFrau Inger auf \u00d6strot\u2039 beruht auf einer schnell angekn\u00fcpften und gewaltsam abgebrochenen Liebschaft.\u00ab Das lautet recht tragisch, ist es aber im Grunde gar nicht. Es handelt sich um ein Fr\u00e4ulein Holst; jetzt hei\u00dft sie Frau Tressel und lebt noch in Bergen. Ibsen war verschossen in das sch\u00f6ne Kind. Sie aber war ein frommes M\u00e4dchen und wollte von Liebe nichts wissen, ehe sie konfirmiert sei. Die Katastrophe wurde dadurch herbeigef\u00fchrt, da\u00df Ibsen auf einem der verschwiegenen Spazierg\u00e4nge vor der pl\u00f6tzlich auftauchenden Gestalt des alten Holst das Weite suchte. In Herzensfragen ist Ibsen immer scheu gewesen; die \u00dcberwindung, die Erinnerung war ihm alles; auch was ihn zum Dichten trieb. Erst nach seiner Verheiratung bekommt \u00bbsein Leben einen schwerer wiegenden Inhalt\u00ab. Im Hause ihres Vaters, des Probstes Hans Conrad Thoresen, lernte er Susanna Daae, Thoresens Tochter aus erster Ehe, kennen; am 7. Januar 1856. Er sprach mit dem neunzehnj\u00e4hrigen M\u00e4dchen \u00fcber seine St\u00fccke und \u00e4u\u00dferte pl\u00f6tzlich, wie in einer Eingebung: \u00bbJetzt sind sie Eline, doch mit der Zeit werden Sie Frau Inger sein.\u00ab Und im Bild der hochgemuten Frau Inger sah er sie sp\u00e4ter, nach zwanzig Jahren, als er ihr die deutsche Ausgabe der \u00bbHerrin von \u00d6strot\u00ab mit der Einzeichnung \u00fcberreichte: \u00bbRechtm\u00e4\u00dfige Besitzerin dieses Buches bist Du, die geistig herstammt vom Hause \u00d6strot.\u00ab Und dazu die Charakteristik im Hansenbrief: \u00bbSie ist ein Charakter, wie ich ihn just brauche, \u2013 unlogisch, aber von einem starken poetischen Instinkt: gro\u00df ist ihre Denkungsart und beinahe z\u00fcgellos ihr Ha\u00df gegen alle kleinlichen R\u00fccksichten.\u00ab Einer zweiten Tochter des Hauses Thoresen-Daae, Marie, brachte er damals und sp\u00e4ter eine herzliche Sympathie entgegen. Mit nat\u00fcrlicher Sch\u00e4rfe schieden sich die Individualit\u00e4ten der beiden Schwestern. Marie lieblich, frank, eine sch\u00f6ne, weiche Seele \u2013 Susanna von einem entschiedenen, fast m\u00e4nnlichen Auftreten, ein kr\u00e4ftiges Naturell, ein eiserner Kopf, dabei hochsinnig, vornehm, von heroischem Schwung, eine interessante Pers\u00f6nlichkeit. Ibsen verlobte sich 1857 mit Susanna; im Herbst 1858 war die Hochzeit zu Bergen. Ibsen f\u00fchrt seine junge Frau aus der Heimat nach Christiania, wohin er schon im Fr\u00fchjahr \u00fcbergesiedelt war. Am 23. Dezember 1859 wurde ihnen ein Sohn geboren, der nach der Hauptgestalt der \u00bbNordischen Heerfahrt\u00ab den Namen Sigurd empfing. Susanna Ibsen war die grausam-schwere Lebenssendung zugefallen, die Frau eines Dichters zu sein, und ohne Klage, ohne Vorwurf hat sie, wie ihr einmal an einem Ehrentage gesagt wurde, die Aufgabe durchgef\u00fchrt: \u00bbals Walk\u00fcre den jungen Helden auf dem Wege der K\u00e4mpfe und Leiden zu begleiten\u00ab. Die sieben Jahre in Christiania, die folgten, waren erf\u00fcllt von Entbehrungen und Entt\u00e4uschungen. Mit Schulden kam Ibsen aus Bergen und von Schulden mu\u00dfte er in Christiania leben. Die Gage, die er nunmehr als artistischer Direktor des \u00bbNorwegischen Theaters\u00ab bezog, war f\u00fcr einen Mann mit Frau und Kind nichts weniger als gl\u00e4nzend, und als das Theater im Juli 1862 in Konkurs geriet, verlor er Stellung und Geld. So findet man ihn 1863 als \u00e4sthetischen Konsulenten am alten \u00bbChristianiaer Theater\u00ab \u2013 die Gage ist nicht nur geringer noch, sie wird auch gar nicht einmal ganz ausbezahlt, weil die Einnahmen des Theaters nicht hinreichen. Einen Kampf ums Dasein, im eigentlichsten Wortsinne, mu\u00dfte Ibsen in jenen Tagen f\u00fchren, und Hilfe mu\u00dfte er teilweise bei Geldgebern suchen, die Wucherern verzweifelt \u00e4hnlich sahen.\n\nDas \u00bbNorwegische Theater\u00ab, an dem Ibsen seit dem Herbst 1857 eine leitende Stellung einnahm, diente einer Nationalisierung der Schaub\u00fchne, stand mithin im bewu\u00dften Gegensatz zum danisierten \u00bbChristianiaer Theater\u00ab. Die Anstalt war unter der Bezeichnung \u00bbChristiania norske dramatiske Skole\u00ab von einem Schauspieler und einem Gartenk\u00fcnstler gegr\u00fcndet worden, und hatte die Bestimmung, eine Schauspielergeneration f\u00fcr eine kommende Nationalb\u00fchne heranzubilden. Zur besonderen Aufgabe dieser merkw\u00fcrdigen Theaterschule wurde erhoben, den d\u00e4nischen papierenen Sprachstil durch die lebendige norwegische Sprechsprache zu ersetzen; zum linguistischen Instruktor wird berufen der nationale Sprachk\u00e4mpe Oberlehrer Knudsen. Bald aber wurde aus den Sch\u00fclervorstellungen eine st\u00e4ndige Einrichtung, und das \u00bbNorwegische Theater\u00ab erstand als ein St\u00fctzpunkt der nationalen Opposition. Ihr temperamentvolles Haupt war der junge Bj\u00f6rnson, der noch vor Ibsens R\u00fcckkehr durch Tat und Wort das \u00bbD\u00e4nentheater\u00ab befehdet und der Kritik wie der theaterpraktischen Wirksamkeit Ibsens gewisserma\u00dfen den Boden vorbereitet hatte. Der Posten am \u00bbNorwegischen Theater\u00ab konnte Ibsen nicht abhalten, die Leistungen und die Verfehlungen der Konkurrenzb\u00fchne kritisch zu beleuchten. Von dieser seltsamen Freiheit hat er nachdr\u00fccklich Gebrauch gemacht, was die kleine Sammlung seiner Prosaschriften (Gesamtausgabe, Bd. I) hinreichend bezeugt. Diese seine Kampfartikel pro domo werden durch das Ideal eines nationalen Standpunkts gewisserma\u00dfen gerechtfertigt. \u00c4u\u00dferen Anla\u00df bot ihm die Kr\u00e4nkung, die ihm das \u00bbChristianiaer Theater\u00ab dadurch zugef\u00fcgt hatte, da\u00df man die \u00bbHelden auf Helgeland\u00ab zuerst annahm und sp\u00e4ter nicht auff\u00fchrte. Ibsen erweiterte seine eigene Sache zu einer gro\u00dfen Angelegenheit der neuen norwegischen Literatur, als deren Repr\u00e4sentanten er sich in jenem hohen Augenblick f\u00fchlte. In Ibsen selbst bereitete sich damals schon die Entwicklung zum \u00bbSkandinaven\u00ab vor, d.h. der Marsch zu dem h\u00f6heren Ziele des skandinavischen Einheitsgedankens, aber gerade deshalb will er, da\u00df jedes der drei V\u00f6lker seine eigene Kraft rette und st\u00e4rke, um gleichberechtigt im Dreibund bestehen zu k\u00f6nnen. Ein vierj\u00e4hriger theaterkritischer Krieg setzt ein, der 1861 seinen H\u00f6hepunkt mit Ibsens gro\u00dfer, kraftvoller und tief eindringender Schrift \u00fcber \u00bbdie zwei Theater in Christiania\u00ab erreichte und 1862 mit der Verschmelzung beider Theater schlo\u00df.\n\nDem Dichter in Ibsen fehlte um jene Zeit noch immer die Anerkennung; er schrieb die \u00bbKom\u00f6die der Liebe\u00ab und die \u00bbKronpr\u00e4tendenten\u00ab; dort war die \u00f6ffentliche Stimmung gegen seine Person, hier gegen die scharf gepr\u00e4gte Tendenz des St\u00fcckes, den Sammlungsgedanken, der dem norwegischen \u00bbYankeetum\u00ab zum Opfer fiel. Und das andere Opfer war der gr\u00f6\u00dfte Dichter des skandinavistischen Traums selbst: Ibsen. Er f\u00fchlt sich \u00bbauf allen Punkten\u00ab geschlagen. Er nimmt\n\n\u00bb.... Der Landflucht Stab,  \nDer Sorge Bund, den Wanderschuh der Qualen,  \nDes \u00dcberernstes h\u00e4renes Pilgerhemde, \u2013\n\nund geht in die Selbstverbannung.\u00ab\n\nDem j\u00fcngeren Bj\u00f6rnson dagegen huldigte bereits das ganze Land wie einem nationalen Klassiker. \u00dcber das sehr merkw\u00fcrdige pers\u00f6nliche Verh\u00e4ltnis beider Dichter zueinander w\u00e4re hier, zur\u00fcckdeutend wie vorausgreifend, einiges zu sagen. Pers\u00f6nliche Ber\u00fchrungspunkte waren schon im Fr\u00fchling 1850 auf Heltbergs Schule vorhanden. Das Jahr 1851 f\u00fchrte sie r\u00e4umlich auseinander; doch innerlich, kamen sie einander n\u00e4her denn je: beide waren dem nationalen Sturm und Drang ergeben, der bewu\u00dften Wiedererweckung der altnorwegischen Romantik. Sp\u00e4ter sahen sie sich im Verein der \u00bbHoll\u00e4nder\u00ab einem freien Schriftsteller- und Gelehrtenkreis, wieder, der die besten K\u00f6pfe Norwegens um den regsamen Botten-Hansen sammelte. Bj\u00f6rnson lenkt mit Enthusiasmus die \u00f6ffentliche Aufmerksamkeit auf Ibsens \u00bbFest auf Solhaug\u00ab, als das St\u00fcck erschien; er unterst\u00fctzt Ibsen im Kampf um die \u00bbHelden auf Helgeland\u00ab; er steht Gevatter bei der Taufe Sigurds; er gr\u00fcndet mit Ibsen die \u00bbNorwegische Gesellschaft\u00ab. Auf dem S\u00e4ngerfest zu Bergen (Sommer 1863) gab es eine besonders tiefe und warme Ann\u00e4herung: ein gro\u00dfes schmerzliches Erlebnis \u00f6ffnete ihre Herzen, l\u00f6ste ihre Zungen. Das Gef\u00fchl bitterer Entt\u00e4uschungen. Es ergriff ihre Seele, da\u00df das d\u00e4nische Brudervolk einen Verzweiflungskampf wider deutsche \u00dcbermacht f\u00fchrte; da\u00df ein St\u00fcck nordischer Art und Zunge einem fremden Reich einverleibt wurde, w\u00e4hrend die norwegischen und schwedischen Gesippen trotz heiligen Gel\u00fcbden nicht zu Hilfe kommen wollten. Bj\u00f6rnson und Ibsen fanden sich in ihren Hoffnungen f\u00fcr den ganzen Norden wie f\u00fcr das norwegische Vaterland betrogen. Besonders an Ibsens Seele nagten damals Zweifel und Mi\u00dfmut. Er f\u00fchlte und f\u00fchlte den brennenden Schmerz der Frage, ob er denn je zu der \u00bbGanzheit und Klarheit\u00ab gelangen w\u00fcrde, die er in seiner Fr\u00fchzeit sich ertr\u00e4umt und erw\u00fcnscht hatte. W\u00fcrde seine Entwicklung an \u00e4u\u00dferen R\u00fccksichten und Fesseln zu schanden werden; w\u00fcrde er nur ein \u00bbgeistreicher Schriftsteller\u00ab und nicht ein dichterischer K\u00e4mpfer f\u00fcr hohe Menschheitsziele werden? In den \u00bbKronpr\u00e4tendenten\u00ab steht eine ersch\u00fctternde Frage, die Skule dem Skalden stellt: \u00bbGlaubst Du jederzeit so sicher, da\u00df Du _Skalde_ bist?\u00ab Das war die Frage, um die Ibsen in seiner Seele einen furchtbaren Kampf f\u00fchrte.\n\nBj\u00f6rnsons leuchtende Pers\u00f6nlichkeit aber half ihm, die Geister der Skepsis niederzuringen. Wodurch ri\u00df Bj\u00f6rnson die Welt so sieghaft hin? Er hatte den unersch\u00fctterlichen Glauben an sich und seine Sendung. Er war nie ein Zweifler gewesen; er hatte das kindlich-naive Vertrauen in seine Kraft, zu allen guten M\u00e4chten des Daseins, und jeder, der ihm nahte, mu\u00dfte jenes Vertrauen teilen. An diesem Mannes- und Dichterglauben richtete sich Ibsen auf. Aber es war kein lichter und froher Glaube, wie der Glaube Bj\u00f6rnsons; es war ein strenger Wille und ernster Mut zum Leben, ein Vertrauen in seine Macht, sich selbst durchzusetzen, das Gef\u00fchl der Gewi\u00dfheit, da\u00df den Idealen Fortpflanzungs- und Entwicklungsf\u00e4higkeit innewohnten. Und auch diese Seite des eigenen Ringens gestaltet Ibsen in den \u00bbKronpr\u00e4tendenten\u00ab dramatisch in dem Gegensatz zwischen Skule und dem K\u00f6nig H\u00e5kon: _beide_ Thronbewerber entsprangen seiner eigenen Seele, und H\u00e5kon war das Neue, das Bj\u00f6rnson ihm gegeben hatte.\n\nAber auch in Ibsens materielles Dasein greift Bj\u00f6rnson hilfreich-f\u00f6rdernd ein. Er verschaffte ihm Geldunterst\u00fctzungen und \u00f6ffentliche Stipendien, um dem Heimatsm\u00fcden die Reise ins Ausland zu erm\u00f6glichen; und er f\u00fchrte Ibsen dem gr\u00f6\u00dften Verleger des Nordens zu: Frederik Hegel, dem Chef der Gyldendalschen Buchhandlung zu Kopenhagen. Durch die Verbindung mit Hegel kam allm\u00e4hlich jener segensreiche Umschwung in Ibsens \u00e4u\u00dfere Lage, der ihn zu einem freien und unabh\u00e4ngigen Schriftsteller machte. Ibsens Briefe str\u00f6men \u00fcber von Dankgef\u00fchl gegen Bj\u00f6rnson.... und doch bereitet sich im stillen eine Scheidung vor. Bj\u00f6rnson st\u00fcrzt sich in den Parteikampf; er stellt sich unbedingt auf die Seite der aggressiven Linken und streitet leidenschaftlich f\u00fcr nationale Selbst\u00e4ndigkeit und Demokratie. Ibsen aber hatte da drau\u00dfen in der Ferne keine heimatspolitischen Parteiinteressen und lebte und strebte nur f\u00fcr den skandinavischen Zusammenschlu\u00df. Die Verbr\u00fcderung Bj\u00f6rnsons mit der Bauernlinken war ihm ein Greuel, denn hier entdeckte er \u00bbnicht eine Spur mehr wirklichen Freisinn, als ihn die ultramontane Bauernbev\u00f6lkerung in Tirol\u00ab hat. Vor allem aber f\u00fcrchtete er f\u00fcr Bj\u00f6rnsons dichterische T\u00e4tigkeit: \u00fcber der Politik k\u00f6nnte der Freund die \u00bbPflichten seiner Begabung verabs\u00e4umen\u00ab. \u00bbPeer Gynt\u00ab erscheint: die Rechte betrachtet das Drama als ein Spottgedicht auf nationale Bestrebungen und spielt Ibsen gegen Bj\u00f6rnsons Partei aus. Der \u00bbBund der Jugend\u00ab erscheint: die Rechte sieht in dem Gedicht eine unmittelbare Kampfschrift f\u00fcr die eigene Partei und spricht Ibsen als Gegner Bj\u00f6rnsons an. So sehr der Gedanke, sich in den Dienst einer Partei verschleppt zu sehen, ihn peinigte, so sehr er die Abkehr von _jeder_ Partei als eine Lebensfrage f\u00fcr den Dichter ansah, so sehr er nichts anderes sein wollte, als ein \u00bbeinsamer Franktireur auf Vorposten\u00ab \u2013 er konnte nichts gegen die vergewaltigenden Bestrebungen seiner schlimm-guten Freunde tun. Bj\u00f6rnson ergrimmte: den \u00bbBund der Jugend\u00ab nannte er einen \u00bbMeuchelmord\u00ab; er wettert gegen Ibsens \u00bbGeneigtheit\u00ab, Orden anzunehmen, und zetert \u2013 damals noch auf dem Boden des Christentums \u2013 gegen des alten Freundes atheistische Geisteswandlung. Der Antagonismus nun wurde f\u00fcr Ibsen wesentlich versch\u00e4rft durch die Wahrnehmung, da\u00df Bj\u00f6rnson, der \u00dcbernationale, allm\u00e4hlich konsequenterweise von der allgemein-nordischen Idee abfiel. Die Aufforderung Bj\u00f6rnsons, D\u00e4nemark solle Deutschland gegen\u00fcber \u00bbdie Signale\u00ab ver\u00e4ndern, d.h. den schleswig-holsteinschen Revanchegedanken aufgeben, bedeutete f\u00fcr Ibsen einen Akt der Untreue gegen einen gemeinsamen gro\u00dfen Lebenstraum: er schreibt sein Gedicht \u00bbDes Nordens Signale\u00ab, worin er Bj\u00f6rnson als schwenkenden \u00bbWetterhahn\u00ab und Priester des Pangermanismus aush\u00f6hnt. 1868 war der Bruch vollzogen.\n\nEs fehlte im Lauf des n\u00e4chsten Jahrzehnts nicht an Wiederann\u00e4herungsversuchen. Sie schlugen fehl; die Vers\u00f6hnung konnte nicht von au\u00dfen, sie mu\u00dfte von innen kommen. 1875 siedelte sich Bj\u00f6rnson mit dem \u00bbRedakteur\u00ab und dem \u00bbFallissement\u00ab auf dem Gebiet des modernen Gesellschaftsdramas an, und Ende der siebziger Jahre brach er, nach hartem inneren Kampf, entschieden mit seinem alten Christentum \u2013 ihm ging nun wie Ibsen das freie Denken und die pers\u00f6nliche Wahrheitsforderung \u00fcber alles. In der Rede an die Christianiaer Studenten, den 31. Oktober 1877, hatte er schon sein ber\u00fchmtes Programm: \u00bbSei in der Wahrheit!\u00ab formuliert. Auch Ibsen wandte sich 1877 mit den \u00bbSt\u00fctzen der Gesellschaft\u00ab demselben Schaffensgebiete zu: die Keime eines sozialen Dramas, die schon in der \u00bbKom\u00f6die der Liebe\u00ab und im \u00bbBund der Jugend\u00ab vorbereitet lagen, beginnen zu sprie\u00dfen und Frucht anzusetzen, und er verfolgte seine heftigen Angriffe auf die bestehende Gesellschaftsordnung mit eiserner Folgerichtigkeit im \u00bbPuppenheim\u00ab und in den \u00bbGespenstern\u00ab. Der Partei der Rechten wurde \u00bbihr\u00ab Dichter immer verd\u00e4chtiger. Und als die \u00bbGespenster\u00ab 1881 das Licht erblickten, da wandte sich die Rechte mit dem Aufgebot ihrer ganzen moralischen Entr\u00fcstung gegen dieses gottlose, unsittliche, zersetzende Werk \u2013 und Ibsen war in Ungnade gefallen. Da \u2013 w\u00e4hrend alles sich gegen den zornerf\u00fcllten Anklagedichter wandte \u2013 trat Bj\u00f6rnson frank und frei zu seiner Verteidigung hervor. \u00bbEr hat in Wahrheit eine k\u00f6nigliche Seele\u00ab, \u2013 dies wundervolle Wort fand Ibsen damals f\u00fcr den wiedergewonnenen Gef\u00e4hrten. In beiden M\u00e4nnern war die Empfindung durchgebrochen, da\u00df sie im Grunde, jeder in seiner Art, f\u00fcr dieselbe Sache gestritten hatten. Zu gleicher Zeit auch schickte sich die norwegische Linke an, die Worte in Taten umzusetzen. Aus den \u00bbSchreih\u00e4lsen\u00ab wurden Reformer; die Politik der Linken fing an, Ibsen sympathischer zu werden. Ein \u00bbLinker\u00ab im Parteisinn ist Ibsen zwar nie geworden, aber die positive Gesetzesarbeit des norwegischen Liberalismus begegnete sich mit Ibsens Dichtung im gleichen Ziele. September 1884 kamen Ibsen und Bj\u00f6rnson in Schwaz(Tirol) zusammen; der Freundschaftsbund empfing eine neue Weihe, \u2013 f\u00fcrs Leben. Nichts tr\u00fcbte mehr das gute Einvernehmen. Ibsens einziger Sohn Sigurd heiratete 1892 Bj\u00f6rnsons Tochter Bergliot, und beiden M\u00e4nnern gedeiht ein gemeinsamer Enkel. Als Bj\u00f6rnson an Ibsens f\u00fcnfundsiebzigstem Geburtstage erschien, um ihm Gl\u00fcck zu w\u00fcnschen, da umarmte Ibsen den Freund mit Tr\u00e4nen im Auge und sagte: \u00bbDu bist doch der, den ich am meisten geliebt habe.\u00ab\u2013 \u2013\n\nIm Fr\u00fchling 1864 zog Ibsen mit einem \u00f6ffentlichen Reisestipendium von 1600 Kronen nach Rom ab; Privatleute, unter ihnen der kunstfreundliche Advokat Dunker und der liberale Parteif\u00fchrer Johan Sverdrup, mu\u00dften mit Geldmitteln einspringen, um Ibsen weiterzuhelfen. Die b\u00f6sen Christianiaer Zeiten drohten sich fortzusetzen, in Ibsens Lage wie in seinen Stimmungen. Seine menschlich-dichterische G\u00e4rungsepoche, die er mit nach Rom bis in die Tage des \u00bbBrand\u00ab hin\u00fcbertrug, herrschte damals mit einer Intensit\u00e4t, die an die Gefa\u00dftheit der Lebensgef\u00e4hrtin nicht geringe Anspr\u00fcche stellte. Hinzu kam Krankheit; ein heftiges Fieber; Ibsen schwebt zwischen Leben und Tod; in einem unbewachten Augenblick verl\u00e4\u00dft er wahngetrieben das Haus: er hat, wie er seinem Lebensfreunde Laurentz Dietrichson 1864 in Rom erz\u00e4hlte, das Gef\u00fchl, als m\u00fcsse er Selbstmordgedanken nachgeben. Susanna trug die Schreckenszeit \u00e4u\u00dferlich mit gro\u00dfartigem Gleichmut; kein Wort der Klage fiel. Die Selbst\u00e4ndigkeit beider Naturen macht sich im Zusammenleben geltend, auch nach au\u00dfen. Er f\u00fchrte ein Phantasieleben und hatte an irdischer K\u00fcnstlerschw\u00e4che und K\u00fcnstlerleidenschaft sein gemessen Teil; sie beharrte auf ihrer eingeborenen Charakterfestigkeit wie auf einem sicheren Pol: und so ward sie ganz von selbst im Hause, das haltgebende Element. Und trat Ruhe ein nach brausenden Stimmungen, so ergriff ihn eine Art Heiligenverehrung vor dem tiefen menschlichen Wert seiner Frau. Sie war in Kopenhagen geblieben und traf erst im Herbst 1864 in Rom ein. Am Ankunftstage war Dietrichson um ihn. Ibsen hatte eine innere Unruhe, die auf Erwartungsfreude hindeutete. Es war, als h\u00e4tte er gern immer nur von ihr gesprochen; aber er tat es nicht. Da erschien sie mit dem Kinde auf Dietrichsons Zimmer. Keine Redensarten, nur ein Ku\u00df, lang, zart und innig. Dietrichson schildert gespr\u00e4chweise die Szene, als sei sie gestern geschehen, und f\u00fcgt hinzu: \u00bbNie sah ich einen herzlicheren Empfang, und es ward mir zur Gewi\u00dfheit: diese so individuell gearteten Menschen geh\u00f6ren doch innerlich zusammen, und sie ist die Frau, die f\u00fcr ihn und zu ihm pa\u00dft.\u00ab Ibsen hatte im Alltagsleben einen Necknamen f\u00fcr seine Frau. Er rief sie immer: \u00bbMeine Katze\u00ab, (Kat), und er schrieb viele Gedichte f\u00fcr sie, Verse von pers\u00f6nlichstem Gehalt, die Frau Susanna \u00bbKatzengedichte\u00ab nannte und sorgsam aufbewahrte, St\u00fcck f\u00fcr St\u00fcck. Sp\u00e4ter, als er seine lyrischen Arbeiten sammelte und ihr mitteilte, der Band sei nun fertig, fragte sie ihn: \u00bbHast Du kein Katzengedicht mit aufgenommen?\u00ab Er: \u00bbSieh nur nach; Du wirst ein Katzengedicht finden, wenn Du den Titel dieses Gedichtes umgekehrt liest.\u00ab Und sie fand das zarte und ernste Gattenbekenntnis \u00bbTak\u00ab (Dank).\n\nNachdem er \u00bbBrand\u00ab geschrieben und in die Welt gesandt hatte, ging mit Ibsen eine auffallende Ver\u00e4nderung vor; er warf fast pl\u00f6tzlich die H\u00fclle des Boh\u00e9mien ab, nahm eine neue, beinahe elegante Tracht an und der Welt gegen\u00fcber eine gemessene F\u00f6rmlichkeit und Reserve im Wesen. Er lie\u00df sich rasieren, und jenes merkw\u00fcrdige charaktervolle Kinn kam nun zum Vorschein. Seinen Freunden war, als wollte er sagen: \u00bbDer dieses Werk geschrieben hat, mu\u00df zeigen, da\u00df er ein Mann ist, der sich in der Gesellschaft sehen lassen kann.\u00ab Die d\u00e4monischen Stimmungen seiner G\u00e4rungsepoche wichen von ihm, er begann, sich in die umgebende Welt mit seiner ganzen Lebensf\u00fchrung zu schicken.\n\nMit der Lebensf\u00fchrung daheim hatte freilich Frau Susanna noch immer ihre liebe Not. Sie mu\u00dfte des Mannes \u00bbsauren Schwei\u00df\u00ab zusammenhalten; doch praktischen Sinnes, wie sie war, \u00fcbte sie mit Gl\u00fcck die schwere Kunst, sich mit wenigen Mitteln so einzurichten und durchzuschlagen, da\u00df des Dichters eigene Welt von aller Misere unber\u00fchrt blieb. Das erste Buch, das Ibsen aus der Ferne in die Heimat sandte, war die Dichtung \u00bbBrand\u00ab. M\u00e4rz 1866. Sie ist empfangen unter dem tiefen Nachhall der Ereignisse von 1864. Hier und in dem dramatischen Gedicht \u00bbPeer Gynt\u00ab, das 1867 herauskam, ist er am reinsten Skandinavist: Er tritt in Fehde mit der norwegischen Halbheit in Gesinnung und Tat, gegen Absonderung und Selbstgen\u00fcgsamkeit. In so weiter Distanz beginnt er das Leben der Heimat klarer und sch\u00e4rfer zu schauen, als er je in der N\u00e4he es vermocht hatte, und er f\u00e4ngt an, er selbst zu werden. Zu Hause h\u00e4tte er nicht \u00bbOpposition machen\u00ab k\u00f6nnen. Er h\u00e4tte unterducken m\u00fcssen oder w\u00e4re von den Tr\u00e4gern der Macht zerrieben worden. Mit eherner Sch\u00e4rfe bildet sich seine Anschauung vom Verh\u00e4ltnis des Individuums zum Staat heraus. In \u00bbPeer Gynt\u00ab steht eine Grabrede; sie handelt von einem Bauer, der im engsten Lebenskreise gro\u00df war, \u00bbweil er er selber war.\u00ab Sie handelt von einem, der unfruchtbar f\u00fcr Staat und Kirche sein will, um fruchtbar f\u00fcr seine eigenste Lebensaufgabe werden zu k\u00f6nnen; von einem, der sich angesichts der Soldatenpflicht selbst verst\u00fcmmelt, der sich der Verfemung preisgibt, um durchzusetzen, was er als sein pers\u00f6nlichstes Daseinsgl\u00fcck umfa\u00dft; von einem, dem \u00bbder eingeborene Klang nie schwieg.\u00ab Dem Dichter steht das Leben der _Nation_ , d.h. ihre geistige und kulturelle Existenz, h\u00f6her als das Wesen des _Staatsverbandes_ ; die Existenz des Staates und des gegenw\u00e4rtigen \u00bbpolitischen und sozialen Begriffes\u00ab geh\u00f6rt ihm nicht zu den irdischen Notwendigkeiten. Durch Staatsumw\u00e4lzungen werden, nach seiner Ansicht, nur einzelne Freiheiten, nicht _die_ Freiheit gewonnen. Nur diejenige Revolution billigt er, die den Staat ganz beseitigt. Und warum, weil sie dem Individuum f\u00fcr alle Zeiten ein unbegrenztes Ma\u00df von Selbst\u00e4ndigkeit und Freiheit sichern w\u00fcrden.\n\nEr selbst verlie\u00df die Heimat, um keinen \u00bbStaat mit sich herumschleppen zu brauchen\u00ab, wie er vom Wandervolk der Juden sagte. Es war ihm Naturnotwendigkeit geworden, zu Norwegen und den norwegischen Verh\u00e4ltnissen Distanz zu wahren. Gerade in der Ferne konnte er, vom Alp des Staats erl\u00f6st, als Dichter norwegisch empfinden und gestalten. Rom verl\u00e4\u00dft er erst, nachdem es \u00bbden Menschen genommen und den Politikern\u00ab \u00fcberantwortet war. Das war 1868. Preu\u00dfen mied er immer, weil dieses Land f\u00fcr ihn das Vorbild einer Nation war, deren \u00bbSt\u00e4rke erkauft war mit dem Aufgehen der Individuen in dem politischen und sozialen Begriff.\u00ab Er geht nach Dresden, wo er schon 1852 gern geweilt hatte. Zun\u00e4chst versuchsweise. Auf seinen Entschlu\u00df wirkte die Sorge um die Ausbildung seines Sohnes wesentlich ein, dem er deutsche Schulen und Hochschulen \u00f6ffnen will. Nach Dresden brachte er die erste Niederschrift eines modernen Dramas mit: er vollendete den \u00bbBund der Jugend\u00ab 1869. Deutschland und Deutschlands gro\u00dfe Zeit gewann ihn jetzt, mit \u00bblockendem Grauen\u00ab. Das Gesetz der Wandlung sp\u00fcrte er an sich selbst. Zwar hegt er lyrische Zweifel, ob jenes Gro\u00dfe wirklich gro\u00df sei; zwar ist ihm um \u00bbdie Sch\u00f6nheit\u00ab bang, die \u00bbkein Bismarck\u00ab auferwecken k\u00f6nnte. \u00dcberfl\u00fcssige Klagen: gerade Ibsen war es, der dem neuen realen Zeitalter die neue reale Poesie schenken sollte. Kurz, er sah nun deutsches Volk und deutsche Art mit \u00bbneugeborenem Auge\u00ab an. Die k\u00f6rperliche, geistige, sittliche Disziplin imponierte ihm; auf sie f\u00fchrte er den Sieg Deutschlands und den Erfolg der Einheitsbestrebungen zur\u00fcck. Hier war sein alter Reichsgedanke verwirklicht, wie er ihn f\u00fcr die nordischen L\u00e4nder so hei\u00df ersehnt hatte. Sein Gedankenleben besch\u00e4ftigt st\u00e4rker denn je die fortschrittbildende Kraft einer starken Volksdisziplin \u2013 in Deutschland \u00bblandet\u00ab der Skandinav beim \u00bbAllgemein-Germanischen\u00ab; das neue Fahrzeug freilich nimmt ins Schlepptau jenes Sehnsuchtsschifflein, das die skandinavistische Hoffnung weiter durch sein Leben tr\u00e4gt. Unter dem starken Einflu\u00df des deutschen Geisteslebens schreibt er (Winter 1871 bis Fr\u00fchling 1873) sein welthistorisches Drama vom \u00bbKaiser und Galil\u00e4er\u00ab; die neue Geistesbewegung des \u00bbKulturkampfes\u00ab machte die Dichtung \u00bbzeitgem\u00e4\u00dfer\u00ab, als Ibsen je h\u00e4tte ahnen k\u00f6nnen. Der Plan reichte ins Jahr 1864 zur\u00fcck; die Orientreise, die Ibsen als Gast des Khedive zur Er\u00f6ffnung des Suezkanales unternahm (September und Oktober 1871), weckte ihm die schlafenden Geister des Gedichts wieder.\n\nDamals in Dresden war Ibsens Heim ein Idyll. Neben Frau Susanna stand ihre Schwester Marie, und die friedlichsten Stimmungen gingen von dieser fast engelhaften Frauennatur aus. Sie war der gute Geist f\u00fcr alle. Frau Ibsen, die doch manche einsame Stunde hatte \u2013 in jenen Entscheidungsjahren, da ihr Mann allein sein mu\u00dfte mit seinem Sch\u00f6pferwerk \u2013 empfand Mariens Anwesenheit als ein Gl\u00fcck: die Schwester war immer heiter und vergn\u00fcgt und konnte jeden beklemmenden Druck wegscheuchen; Sigurd geno\u00df neben der ernsten Elternp\u00e4dagogik eine frische und belebende Tantenerziehung, und an Henrik Ibsens Seite stand noch ein zweiter Mensch, der an seinem g\u00e4renden Gedankenleben teilzunehmen innerlich berufen war. Ibsen blickte in das beste Herz, und wenn er sp\u00e4ter, so warm und so zart, ein Ideal des Grundg\u00fctigen in Wangel und Tante Julle aufstellte, so ist es Mariens Geist, der in diesen Gestalten lebt. Doch Marie war und wollte nichts anderes sein als ein Gast in ihrer Schwester Hause, ein Gast, der erscheint und eines Tages geht. Sie konnte nicht auf die Dauer mit und von den Ihrigen leben. Sie rang nach Selbst\u00e4ndigkeit, nach einem eigenen Beruf. Alle Versuche, sie zur\u00fcckzuhalten, scheiterten; herzhaft widerstand sie sowohl den Bitten Susannas und des Schwagers wie klein Sigurds Tr\u00e4nen. Sie hat fr\u00fch die Erde verlassen. 1873 fiel sie in schwere Krankheit. Susanna Ibsen, die eben von Kopenhagen heimgekehrt war, eilte unverz\u00fcglich dahin zur\u00fcck, an das Krankenlager der Schwester und blieb bei ihr in der letzten Stunde .... Ibsen hatte in Marie seelisch vielleicht mit Dichteraugen die Erg\u00e4nzung Susannas gesehen. F\u00fcr seine wirkliche K\u00fcnstlerlaufbahn aber taugte ihm nur ein in sich gefestigtes Wesen wie Susanna, eine Natur, die ihm in allen Dingen, in geistigen wie realen, frei entgegentrat, eine liebende Richterin, eine, die nie das Gef\u00fchl daf\u00fcr verlor, dem \u00fcberlegenen Geiste gegen\u00fcberzustehen.\n\nSie gingen beide ihren geraden Pers\u00f6nlichkeitsweg, in der sicheren Empfindung, an jedem Punkte, wo sie wollten, sich wieder zu finden. Eigene Bahn f\u00fcr jeden, das war ihr stillschweigender Vertrag auf dem Grunde ehelicher Treue. Fr\u00fcher gab es wohl auf seiner Seite manch scharfes und spitzes Wort, auf ihrer Seite kurze Gegenrede \u2013 aber alles war nur momentaner Ausdruck ihrer Eigenwerte. Allerlei Umschw\u00fcnge in der h\u00e4uslichen Stimmung. Aber auch diese psychologischen Begleiterscheinungen verlieren sich \u00fcber dem heimlichen Grundprinzip ihres Ehelebens: unverbr\u00fcchliche Treue nach innen, Freiheit nach au\u00dfen. Keine Ausbr\u00fcche der Laune mehr. Frau Susanna hatte ihren Helden dorthin geleitet, wo Gott ihn haben wollte. Sie, die fr\u00fcher Wortkarge, kann nun nicht genug von seiner Gr\u00f6\u00dfe reden. Sie ist von der reinen Gl\u00fccksempfindung beherrscht, eines solchen Mannes Weib zu sein, und mu\u00df ihr Gl\u00fcck andern mitteilen. Ihr eigenes Leben war ein Kunstwerk, und sie hatte die erstaunliche Seelengr\u00f6\u00dfe, hinter ihrem eigenen Werke zu verschwinden. Wie ein Denkmal spricht uns Camilla Colletts klassisches Zeugnis an:\n\nIhr war, der Frau, ein Gro\u00dfes aufgegeben.  \nSie aber hat's erkannt, \u2013 hat's z\u00e4rtlich-milde  \nUnd doch voll Kraft erf\u00fcllt: das war ihr Leben. ...\n\nAm 13. April 1875 verl\u00e4\u00dft Ibsen Dresden, um nach M\u00fcnchen, zu ziehen und sich dauernd in Deutschland anzusiedeln. Er war dreiundzwanzig Jahre unser Heimatsgenosse. Freilich fallen in diesen Zeitraum zwei Reisen nach Italien, wo er sich einmal zu k\u00fcrzerem (1878\u201379), ein ander Mal zu l\u00e4ngerem (1880\u201385) Aufenthalte niederlie\u00df. In M\u00fcnchen entstanden Sommer 1877 \u00bbDie St\u00fctzen der Gesellschaft\u00ab, in Amalfi wird Sommer 1879 das \u00bbPuppenheim\u00ab geschrieben: unter dem Einflu\u00df Susannas tritt Ibsen auf den Kampfplatz f\u00fcr das Recht der Frau; die leidenschaftliche Nora-Epoche dankt er der eigenen Gattin. Sie lasen zusammen Camilla Colletts Werk \u00bbAus dem Lager der Stummen\u00ab, die erste Anklageschrift der norwegischen Frau, und Stuart Mill, der Ibsen literarisch zwar zu \u00bbphilistr\u00f6s\u00ab, zu sehr als \u00bbWeisheitsleuchte\u00ab vorkam (Brief an G. Brandes vom 30. April 1873), dessen Grundideen jedoch nicht ohne Einflu\u00df auf seine Weltanschauung geblieben sind. Voll von dem Problem \u00bbGleichstellung der Frau\u00ab war Ibsen im Herbst 1878 nach Rom gekommen. Im Scho\u00df des \u00bbSkandinavischen Vereins\u00ab will er durch zwei Antr\u00e4ge (die Damen sollen Sitz und Stimme in den Generalversammlungen erhalten; den Posten des Vereinsbibliothekars soll eine Dame bekleiden d\u00fcrfen) seine Ideen praktisch erproben, in kleinen Verh\u00e4ltnissen \u2013 es mi\u00dflingt ihm, und nun hat er jenes Ma\u00df von Indignation empfangen, dessen er zum Dichten bedurfte.\n\n\u00bbGespenster\u00ab werden 1881 in Sorrent geschrieben; der \u00bbVolksfeind\u00ab wird 1882 in Rom begonnen und, auf einer Tiroler Reise, in Gossensa\u00df zu Ende gef\u00fchrt, ebenso 1884 die \u00bbWildente\u00ab. In die M\u00fcnchener Zeit fallen sodann \u00bbRosmersholm\u00ab (1886); \u00bbDie Frau vom Meere\u00ab (1888) und \u00bbHedda Gabler\u00ab (1890).\n\nJe tiefer Ibsen in die Kritik moderner Zust\u00e4nde eindringt, desto heftiger werden in der Heimat und in Deutschland die Widerst\u00e4nde gegen seine Dramen, was sich beim \u00bbPuppenheim\u00ab, ganz besonders aber bei den \u00bbGespenstern\u00ab zeigt. Aus dem Verfemten aber ward im Wandel der Jahre ein Verg\u00f6tterter, aus dem kleinen \u00bbSchriftsteller aus Norwegen\u00ab eine europ\u00e4ische Gr\u00f6\u00dfe, aus dem angefeindeten dichterischen Bahnbrecher ein wegeweisender \u00bbAhnherr\u00ab. An dieser Stelle ist _Georg Brandes_ zu nennen, der durch seine literarische Pionierarbeit in den skandinavischen wie deutschen L\u00e4ndern f\u00fcr die Gesamtproduktion des norwegischen Dichters und ihre zeitliche wie ewige Bedeutung aufkl\u00e4rend gewirkt hat. Sehr fr\u00fch, in seiner ersten r\u00f6mischen Zeit, ist Ibsen auf den kommenden Mann seiner eigenen Sache aufmerksam geworden: es hatte ihn ungemein angesprochen, wie dieser Vierundzwanzigj\u00e4hrige keck der Orthodoxie des Landes den Fehdehandschuh hinwarf, wie er auf der anderen Seite Rasmus Nielsen in die Schranken forderte, den Philosophen, der es sich zur h\u00f6chsten Aufgabe gestellt hatte, \u00bbden Wert zu erkennen, welcher der Wissenschaft innewohnt, und doch festzuhalten an den Forderungen des Glaubens\u00ab. Ibsen war sich bald dar\u00fcber klar, da\u00df \u00bbdieser Mann noch einmal eine gro\u00dfe Rolle in der Wissenschaft und den h\u00f6heren Lebensverh\u00e4ltnissen der Heimat spielen w\u00fcrde\u00ab. Allerdings war auch Brandes anfangs in den Traditionen d\u00e4nischen \u00c4sthetentums befangen; beim \u00bbPeer Gynt\u00ab verdammte er mit den st\u00e4rksten Worten Ibsens \u00bbMoralisieren\u00ab und fand die Dichtung \u00bbweder sch\u00f6n noch wahr\u00ab. Ibsen wandte ein, da\u00df er sich um die \u00bbherk\u00f6mmlichen Regeln\u00ab der \u00c4sthetik nicht k\u00fcmmere und im formal Unsch\u00f6nen noch Sch\u00f6nheit finden k\u00f6nne, wenn es charaktervoll sei \u2013 \u00bbkraft der ihm innewohnenden Wahrheit\u00ab, und zu dieser Anschauungsweise wurde Brandes unschwer hin\u00fcbergezogen, weil seine Pers\u00f6nlichkeit einer solchen Kunst- und Lebensbetrachtung innerlich zustrebte. Die Welt gibt ihm bald einen weiteren Gesichtskreis und ein geschmeidigeres Empfindungsleben, und Ibsens Aufforderung an Brandes, einer \u00bbvon denen zu sein, die bei der Revolutionierung des Menschengeistes an der Spitze marschieren\u00ab, wurde von Brandes mit einem flammenden Huldigungsgedicht erwidert, worin er sich als den geborenen \u00bbKnappen\u00ab dieses \u00bbH\u00e4uptlings ohne Gleichen\u00ab bekennt. Die neue Kunstanschauung, die als oberstes Gesetz die charakterisierende Menschenschilderung aufstellt, hat Brandes sch\u00e4rfer und leidenschaftlicher als irgend ein anderer in seinen \u00bbHauptstr\u00f6mungen\u00ab festgelegt. Dieses Buch ist \u00bbepochemachend\u00ab f\u00fcr Ibsens Dichtung geworden. Es st\u00e4hlte ihn in seinem produktiven Kampfe f\u00fcr das Drama der modernen Gesellschaft. Auf allen Entwicklungspfaden und bei allen Wendungen seines Schaffens sah Ibsen fortan Georg Brandes als bedingungslos ergebenen Verteidiger an seiner Seite: bei seinen Anklagedramen (\u00bbGespenster\u00ab); bei den Dramen der politischen Interessen (\u00bbVolksfeind\u00ab, \u00bbRosmersholm\u00ab); bei den Sch\u00f6pfungen, in denen Ibsen den Menschen nicht verurteilen, sondern zu _verstehen_ sucht, in denen er nur \u00bb _sehen_ \u00ab und das Leben in seinen zugleich tragischen und komischen Ausdrucksformen schildern will (\u00bbWildente\u00ab); in der letzten, vorwiegend psychologischen und halb symbolisierenden Epoche (\u00bbSolne\u00df\u00ab und \u00bbKlein Eyolf\u00ab). Waffenbr\u00fcderschaft, gegenseitiges Verst\u00e4ndnis, Freundschaft \u2013 schroffe und streitbare M\u00e4nner, Dichter wie Kritiker, doch beide innig verbunden durch die \u00bbh\u00f6here Einigkeit\u00ab einer gemeinsamen Kulturaufgabe.\n\nMit seiner Ber\u00fchmtheit wuchs f\u00fcr Ibsen das Gef\u00fchl der \u00bbPflicht\u00ab zu allerlei Kunstfahrten und Repr\u00e4sentationsreisen. \u00bbZu Hause\u00ab aber f\u00fchlte er sich nur in M\u00fcnchen: \u00bbweit mehr als in meiner eigentlichen sogenannten Heimat\u00ab. Das war wenigstens seine Stimmung um das Jahr 1885. Hier hatte er gute Freunde gewonnen: der M\u00fcnchener Ibsenkreis war es, der das streitbare \u00bbGespenster\u00ab-Drama zum ersten Mal auf eine B\u00fchne zu bringen wagte; damals setzte die eigentliche \u00bbIbsenbewegung\u00ab ein.\n\nW\u00e4hrend der siebenundzwanzig Jahre seiner freiwilligen Landesflucht kam zweimal das Verlangen \u00fcber ihn, sein Vaterland wiederzusehen. Bei seinem Aufenthalt in Christiania 1874 empfand er mit freudiger Genugtuung, da\u00df \u00bbjede fr\u00fchere Mi\u00dfstimmung gegen ihn geschwunden sei\u00ab. Gleichwohl versp\u00fcrte er damals keine Neigung, wieder festen Fu\u00df in der Heimat zu fassen. \u00bbAls ich den Fjord hinauffuhr\u00ab, so schrieb er sp\u00e4ter einmal an Bj\u00f6rnson, \u00bbda f\u00fchlte ich, wie sich mir die Brust in Beklemmung und Unbehagen buchst\u00e4blich zusammenschn\u00fcrte. Dieselbe Empfindung habe ich w\u00e4hrend meines ganzen Aufenthaltes da oben gehabt: ich war nicht mehr ich selbst unter all diesen norwegischen kalten und verst\u00e4ndnislosen Augen, die aus den Fenstern und auf den B\u00fcrgersteigen blickten\u00ab. Als er dies schrieb, stand der Dichter der \u00bbGespenster\u00ab und des \u00bbVolksfeinds\u00ab schon in offener Fehde mit den politischen und gesellschaftlichen M\u00e4chten der Heimat, und der folgende Besuch in Norwegen 1885 endet mit einem schrillen Mi\u00dfton: die Jugend, auf die er gehofft hatte, verleugnet ihn. Doch diese Reise hat er dazu benutzt, um einmal ganz in der N\u00e4he Verh\u00e4ltnisse und Menschen zu studieren \u2013 und die erste Frucht dieser Studien war das aufw\u00fchlende Kampfesdrama \u00bbRosmersholm\u00ab. In Wirklichkeit war das polemische Verhalten seinem Vaterlande gegen\u00fcber, die Rolle des \u00bbStaatssatirikus\u00ab, die er gespielt hat, nur die andere Seite seiner Vaterlandsliebe. Von allen seinen fr\u00fcheren Mitk\u00e4mpfern war er der einzige, der den alten Traum eines einigen Nordens nicht aus seiner Seele bannen konnte; er hat eine unerf\u00fcllte Hoffnung mit ins Grab genommen. Seine Liebe zu Norwegen war krank, weil norwegische Staatsweisheit weiter und weiter in separatistische Bahnen einlenkte (im Zusammenhang hiermit lese man Christian Collins wichtigen Aufsatz \u00bbIbsen und Norwegen\u00ab: Neue Rundschau, 17. Jahrg., 1907). Ibsen war ein Staatssatirikus aus Romantik. Er wollte sein Lebenlang nur als K\u00fcnstler und Gestalter beurteilt sein, und der Dichter war das St\u00e4rkste in ihm, gewi\u00df, \u2013 doch _ein_ geheimer ethischer Trieb ist unverkennbar \u2013 die Sehnsucht: sein \u00bbVolk zu wecken und es zu lehren, gro\u00df zu denken\u00ab. Seine \u00bbBriefe\u00ab gew\u00e4hren die n\u00f6tige Erg\u00e4nzung. Da stellt er einmal etwas wie ein politisches Programm auf, dessen Grundgedanke ist, da\u00df alle \u00bbUnprivilegierten\u00ab sich aufraffen sollen, um ihr Recht auf Freiheit durchzusetzen. Im allgemeinen aber war es ihm doch sehr \u00bbzweifelhaft, ob es gelingen k\u00f6nnte, das norwegische Volk st\u00fcckweise zu reformieren\u00ab: ihm blieb es immer das wichtigste, den \u00bbgeistigen Grund und Boden nach jeder Richtung auszuroden und zu s\u00e4ubern\u00ab \u2013 die \u00bbRevolutionierung des Menschengeistes\u00ab. Hier spricht der K\u00fcnstler, der an einer Bev\u00f6lkerung verzweifelt, die es \u00bbnoch f\u00fcr wichtiger h\u00e4lt, Beth\u00e4user zu bauen als Theater\u00ab und \u00bblieber die Zulumission unterst\u00fctzt als das Museum der K\u00fcnste\u00ab. Was ihn aber trotz alledem in diesem Kampf um eine h\u00f6here Volkskultur ein wenig st\u00e4rkt, das ist die Hoffnung auf die Jugend, die er nicht wie sein Baumeister Solne\u00df f\u00fcrchten will, wenn sie kommt und an die T\u00fcr klopft.\n\nHat Ibsen sich auch in seinen bittersten Stunden oftmals vorgenommen, \u00bballe seine Beziehungen zu Norwegen abzubrechen und nie wieder einen Fu\u00df dorthin zu setzen\u00ab, so schreckt er doch vor dem Gedanken einer eigentlichen \u00bbExpatriierung\u00ab wie vor einer \u00bbgar zu ernsten Sache\u00ab zur\u00fcck, \u00bbzu der er sich unsagbar schwer entschlie\u00dfen w\u00fcrde\u00ab.... 1891 nimmt er wieder seinen festen Wohnsitz in Christiania. Es spielen praktische Notwendigkeiten mit. \u00bbIch \u00abm\u00f6chte doch ein guter Hausvater und Wirt sein\u00ab, sagte er einmal einem Freunde, \u00bbich mu\u00df also wohl mein Verm\u00f6gen konsolidieren, fest anlegen und verwalten, und das tut man am besten da, wo man ein Staatsangeh\u00f6riger ist.\u00ab Die geheime Sehnsucht aber, die in der Fremde dann und wann \u00fcber ihn kam, hat sich in eine Sehnsucht nach der nordischen Landschaft und nach dem Meere umgesetzt, das einst der J\u00fcngling in Grimstad so sehr lieben lernte. \u00bbVon allem, was ich hier entbehren mu\u00df, kann ich mich damit am schwersten auss\u00f6hnen, da\u00df ich das Meer entbehren mu\u00df\u00ab, so schreibt er an Hegel sowohl aus M\u00fcnchen wie aus Rom. Aber seine gro\u00dfe, schweifende Sehnsucht blieb in der Heimat auf die Dauer ungestillt. \u00bbWer ein Heim gewonnen hat in den vielen fremden L\u00e4ndern drau\u00dfen, der f\u00fchlt sich in der Tiefe seines Innern nirgends zu Hause. Vielleicht nicht einmal im eigenen Vaterlande\u00ab, \u2013 zu diesem schmerzlichen Resultat ist er nach siebenj\u00e4hrigem Aufenthalt in Christiania selbst gekommen. Er konnte sich nicht mehr akklimatisieren. Er hat es in der Heimat nicht gefunden, das freie offene Meer. Hier waren \u00bballe Sunde zu \u2013 und alle Kan\u00e4le des Verst\u00e4ndnisses verstopft\u00ab. Und abermals sehnt sich der alte Dichter in die Welt hinaus. Diesmal nach D\u00e4nemark, wo er schon einmal, im Sommer 1887, an einer \u00bbfreien, offenen St\u00e4tte\u00ab in Skagen des Meeres froh geworden war. Aber nun war er an Christiania gebunden, wo ihm seine Dichtung die reifsten Altersfr\u00fcchte in den Scho\u00df warf: 1892 Baumeister Solne\u00df, 1894 Klein Eyolf, 1896 John Gabriel Borkman und 1899 Wenn wir Toten erwachen. Diesen seinen Kunst- und Lebensepilog hat er mit solcher Anstrengung und leidenschaftlichen Erregung geschrieben, so krampfhaft und so fieberhaft, da\u00df es seine Umgebung fast be\u00e4ngstigte. Nur fertig werden, fertig werden! Als h\u00f6re er d\u00fcstere Schwingen \u00fcber sich. Als st\u00fcnde der unheimliche Gast, der seinen Alfred Allmers auf Bergespfaden gespenstisch begleitet, schon mit erhobener Hand hinter ihm. Ibsen wu\u00dfte, als er dieses Drama dichtete, ganz genau, da\u00df es das letzte sei, da\u00df er fortan nichts mehr werde schreiben k\u00f6nnen \u2013.\n\nWar auch ihm, dem alten Heimatlosen, die Heimat unbehaglich, so war er doch gl\u00fccklich in seinem Heim. Er wurde froh der Seinen: mit Sigurds politisch-diplomatischer Laufbahn, die ihm zun\u00e4chst nicht zusagte, hatte er sich ausges\u00f6hnt \u2013 Sigurd hatte der v\u00e4terlichen Pers\u00f6nlichkeit gegen\u00fcber auf seiner eigenen Pers\u00f6nlichkeit bestanden; der sch\u00f6nen, klugen und g\u00fctigen Tochter Bj\u00f6rnsons war er ein z\u00e4rtlicher Schwiegervater, und seine Enkel liebte er \u00fcber alles, zumal das zweite Kind, ein M\u00e4dchen: nach der letzten Frauengestalt, die der Gro\u00dfvater-Dichter schuf, f\u00fchrte das Enkelt\u00f6chterchen den symbolischen Namen Irene. Als im Vorfr\u00fchling 1906 Sigurds drittes Kind geboren wurde, war der leidende Mann noch eindrucksf\u00e4hig f\u00fcr das Gl\u00fcck, das seinem Hause abermals geworden war. Er erkundigt sich, wie die Kleine hei\u00dfen sollte. \u00bbWir wollen sie Eleonora nennen\u00ab, sagt Bergliot Ibsen. \u00bbDas ist gut\u00ab, meint der Alte, \u00bbdas ist gut, \u2013 Eleonora, das ist meine Nora.\u00ab\n\nHenrik Ibsens sechsj\u00e4hrige Krankheit war ein Martyrium, wenn er auch nicht physische Schmerzen zu dulden hatte. Sie k\u00fcndigte sich am 15. M\u00e4rz 1900 durch eine leichtere Schlagber\u00fchrung an. Es schien, als w\u00fcrde er das Leiden \u00fcberwinden, doch die Arteriosklerose schritt fort, und Ende Januar 1901 erneuerte sich \u2013 unter den Nachwirkungen einer Gesichtsrose \u2013 der Anfall in wesentlich verst\u00e4rktem Ma\u00dfe. Von da an ging es mit seinem Leben langsam dem Ende zu. Am 23. Mai 1906 nachmittags 2\u00bd Uhr ist er in den Armen seiner Frau gestorben.\n\nWenige Stunden sp\u00e4ter erfuhr die ganze zivilisierte Welt seinen Tod, der \u00fcberall wie ein weltgeschichtliches Ereignis die Menschen ergriff. Der norwegische Staat hat diesen gro\u00dfen Staatsverleugner als sein Eigentum beansprucht und ihm alle Ehren eines nationalen Begr\u00e4bnisses erwiesen. Der Tote, der nie weltliche Auszeichnungen verschm\u00e4hte, h\u00e4tte sich auch gegen diese letzten Ehren nicht gewehrt. An seinem Grabe sprach ein protestantischer Geistlicher, derselbe Mann, der mehr als vierzig Jahre fr\u00fcher der priesterlichen Gestalt seines \u00bbBrand\u00ab vielleicht wesentliche Z\u00fcge mag geliehen haben: Christoffer Bruun. Ibsens Grab liegt auf dem \u00bbErl\u00f6serkirchhof\u00ab mitten auf einem gr\u00fcnen gro\u00dfen Anger. Hier wird sich fortan kein anderer Grabh\u00fcgel mehr erheben. Ein Obelisk aus silbergrauem Labradorstein bezeichnet die St\u00e4tte. Auf dem Denkmal liest man kein anderes Wort als den Namen \u00bbHenrik Ibsen\u00ab. Nur wie ein Runenzeichen ist in den Stein eingemei\u00dfelt die alte Bergmannshand, die den Hammer schwingt. Nicht weit von diesem Anger, auf leichter Anh\u00f6he, liegt das Grab eines anderen Hammerschwingers und Lichtbringers: das Grab Henrik Wergelands, der in Norwegen der genialste Dichter vor Ibsens Epoche gewesen ist. Ibsens erstes Lied (1847), das in die erste Sammlung der _Gedichte_ nicht aufgenommen wurde, tr\u00e4gt die \u00dcberschrift \u00bbResignation\u00ab. Dies k\u00f6nnte die \u00dcberschrift seines Lebens sein. Schon der J\u00fcngling spricht vom vergeblichen Ringen, vom Phantom seiner W\u00fcnsche, vom Versagen der Seelenfl\u00fcgel, vom Ermatten und Erkalten seiner Poesie. Er verzagt. Unbekannt und still will er leben und vergehen \u2013 ein Vergessener. Denn der Blitz, der aus seinem Innern gl\u00e4nzt, kann nicht durch die Finsternis der Wolken dringen. Diese Stimmung zieht durch Ibsens ganzes Lebenswerk und herrscht an den entscheidendsten Punkten vor. Ein Mann der Tat, der auf die Tat verzichten mu\u00dfte, und dessen Resignation Dichtung ward.\n\nNoch im Jahre 1852 \u00fcberwog der Nachtgedanke des \u00bbLichtscheuen\u00ab oder vielmehr des lichtscheu Gemachten: Einst gewann der Knabe seinen Mut erst mit dem Morgen, und im Dunkel der Nacht schreckten ihn spukhafte Tr\u00e4ume; dann kam die Wandlung. Ihn entsetzt und scheucht der L\u00e4rm des Tages, und erst im Finstern erwachen Mut und Tatenlust. Im Hinblick auf seine Zukunft kommt er zu dem unheimlichen Schlusse:\n\nJa, tu' ich einmal etwas Gro\u00dfes,  \nSo wird's eine dunkle Tat.\n\nEr ahnt in sich den Dichter der Abgr\u00fcnde des Lebens.\n\nDas Streben in die Gr\u00fcnde, ob sie auch Abgr\u00fcnde w\u00e4ren, f\u00fchrte ihn schon damals zum Symbol der John Gabriel Borkman-Trag\u00f6die. Als \u00bbBergmann\u00ab dringt er in die Tiefen, um dort den R\u00e4tseln des Lebens auf den Grund zu kommen:\n\nBrich den Weg mir, schwerer Hammer,  \nZu des Berges Herzenskammer!\n\nAber er hat umsonst des Lebens Lust, den Fr\u00fchling der Unschuld, der Erde heiteren Klang dahingegeben: wie den Blick zur H\u00f6he der Sonnenglanz blendet, so nimmt dort unten die undurchdringlich tiefe Nacht der Hoffnung jeden Schimmer.\n\nDieser Dramatiker hat sich nicht lange bei Liebeleien aufgehalten. Sein Geist brauchte st\u00e4rkere Probleme. Wenn er in dem sommerlichten Sternenhimmel die altersgraue Feste \u00bbAkershus\u00ab hoch \u00fcber das Land und \u00fcber des Landes Hauptstadt emporragen sieht, wenn unten der Meerbusen wie eine keuchende Menschenbrust dem Hochschlo\u00df entgegenquillt, dann taucht wie ein Erinnerungstraum des alten Gem\u00e4uers selbst auf, was da oben auf der H\u00f6he und dort unten im Fjord an Bluttat und Friedenswerk geschah: des abgesetzten D\u00e4nenk\u00f6nigs Christian II. vergebliches Ringen um die Herrschaft in Norwegen, der Todesgang k\u00fchner Insurgenten unter K\u00f6nig Hans, und bis in des Dichters eigenes Jahrhundert hinein die Begr\u00fcndung der freiheitlichen norwegischen Verfassung von 1814. Aber aus diesem Gedicht wie aus so manchem der sp\u00e4teren Zeiten spricht nicht die reaktion\u00e4re Absicht, \u00fcber der Vorzeit den Augenblick zu vergessen oder zu verkleinern, sondern nur der Wunsch, da\u00df den Enkel der Anblick hoher Ahnen st\u00e4rke und des Nordens Eichbaum in seiner Herrlichkeit nicht zersplittere.\n\nWenn ihm die Welt um sich her zu eng und zu klein wurde, so ging von jeher seine Sehnsucht nicht in zeitliche, sondern in r\u00e4umliche Fernen. Der Zugvogel wird Gegenstand seines schwerm\u00fctigen Neides. Wie Faust verfolgt auch ihn das Bild: \u00bbO, da\u00df kein Fl\u00fcgel mich vom Boden hebt!\u00ab So werden ihm befiederte Gesch\u00f6pfe zum Symbol seiner Stimmung. Aus dem Leid, dem Dichterleid, entsteht das Lied von der \u00bbSturmschwalbe\u00ab, von der die Seemannsm\u00e4r geht, da\u00df sie weder fliegen noch schwimmen kann, und daher im ewigen Wechsel bald das eine, bald das andere versucht; das ist \u00bbder Dichtervogel\u00ab, der sein eigentliches Element nicht findet. Dann vergleicht sich der Dichter dem \u00bbEidervogel\u00ab, der im nordischen Fjord sein Nest mit den Daunen der eigenen Brust erw\u00e4rmt, und ob ihm auch das wei\u00dfe Federbett seiner Brust immer wieder geraubt wird, er rupft sich die Brust, bis sie kahl ist und blutet; dann fliegt er nach S\u00fcden.\n\nUnd an seiner h\u00f6heren Kraft verzweifelnd, begr\u00fc\u00dft Ibsen wohl oder \u00fcbel die Schriftstellerei als Broterwerb; langsam, vorsichtig in Verfall geratend, wie eine Tonne, die den Most verspritzt hat und nur trockenen Bodensatz umfa\u00dft; ein Bild, das aus \u00e4lteren Versen in dem Gedicht \u00bbMein junger Wein\u00ab (1856) wiederkehrt und auf ein Liebesverh\u00e4ltnis bezogen wird. Dem also Ern\u00fcchterten, dem also Ausgetrockneten verursacht der D\u00e4mon des Zweifels, sein arger Elf, keine Schrecken mehr. In dem Gedicht \u00bbBaupl\u00e4ne\u00ab kommt er noch einmal (1858) auf seine dichterischen Anf\u00e4nge zur\u00fcck, um sie mit seinem Liebesleben in Beziehung zu bringen. Da erz\u00e4hlt er, dem Motiv des \u00bbBaumeisters Solne\u00df\u00ab vorgreifend, von seinem Wolkenschlo\u00df, das in einem Fl\u00fcgel einen gro\u00dfen Dichter, im anderen ein kleines M\u00e4dchen beherbergen sollte; aber es kam anders: der Kunstfl\u00fcgel war zu klein, und der Liebesfl\u00fcgel verfiel.\n\nDamals fand Ibsen die Gef\u00e4hrtin seines Lebens. Mit boshaftem Humor verglich er im Bereich des Weiblichen \u00bbFeldblumen und Topfpflanzen\u00ab (1858), und wenn sich dieses Gedicht auch nicht unmittelbar auf Frau Susanna bezieht, so wird er sie sicher zu den Feldblumenkindern gez\u00e4hlt haben.\n\nZur selben Zeit spricht aus dem Gedicht \u00bbVogelweise\u00ab (1858) der Wunsch, Kunst und Liebe als zwei Geheimnisse vor der Welt zu h\u00fcten. Auch daraus mag sich erkl\u00e4ren, da\u00df Ibsen, zumal in den ersten Ehejahren, fast nur durch \u00e4u\u00dfere Gelegenheiten zum Poetisieren bewogen wurde. Schon sein Theaterberuf, noch mehr seine kameradschaftlichen Beziehungen zur journalistischen Welt veranla\u00dften teils huldigende, teils polemische Gelegenheitsgedichte. Ende 1859 sollten im Christianiaer Theater lebende Bilder gestellt werden; es wurde zu diesem Zweck auch ein Gem\u00e4lde von Ibsens Altersgenossen Knut Bergslien gew\u00e4hlt. Den beschreibenden Text dichtete Ibsen, und die Schauspielerin Gundersen sprach ihn. So entstand das landschaftliche Gedicht \u00bbHochlandsleben\u00ab; es schildert ein Hochgebirge im Hochsommerabendschein; die einsame junge Saetermaid, die im Zwielicht steht und mitten in dieser gro\u00dfen Natur den Weg ihres kleinen Menschengl\u00fcckes zu sehen scheint \u2013 ihr darf dieser Ausblick in doppelte Ferne einen langen einsamen Winter dort oben wert sein.\n\nWer den einsamen Mann der sp\u00e4teren Zeiten kennt, vermag kaum ihn sich auf S\u00e4ngerfesten vorzustellen. Und doch l\u00e4\u00dft er im Juni 1859 beim S\u00e4ngerfest in Arendal, das Herz voll lenzsprie\u00dfender Triebe, ein Preislied auf die Damen singen; und doch ist er eines sch\u00f6nen Sonntagsmorgens im Juni 1863 an Bord des Dampfschiffes \u00bbLindesnaes\u00ab zwischen Christiania und Bergen mit jungen, fr\u00f6hlichen Br\u00fcdern, die \u00bbsich vogelfrei singen\u00ab, unterwegs zu einem S\u00e4ngerfest. Um sich und in sich f\u00fchlt er einmal die Lebensfreude, die er sp\u00e4ter seinen Osvald Alving vergeblich suchen lie\u00df. Es ist der Optimist Ibsen, dem man es sp\u00e4ter so sehr verargte, da\u00df er das Menschenvolk von seinen Sorgen befreien wollte, indem er diese Sorgen enth\u00fcllte; es ist der Menschenfreund mit seinem standhaften Glauben, da\u00df auch aus H\u00f6hlen und Gr\u00fcften ein Widerhall der Sch\u00f6nheit klingt, und da\u00df es nicht vergebens ist, Freude zu s\u00e4en; es ist freilich auch derselbe Betrachter sozialer Kontraste.\n\nAls Journalist wurde Ibsen vielfach auch zu politischen Gelegenheitsgedichten veranla\u00dft. So entstand 1858 der Text zu einem Bilde von \u00bbK\u00f6nig H\u00e5kons Festhalle in Bergen\u00ab, die nach langer Vernachl\u00e4ssigung damals restauriert wurde; diese Halle und die gro\u00dfe historische Vergangenheit, deren Denkmal sie ist, kommt ihm vor wie der versto\u00dfene K\u00f6nig Lear auf der Heide, dem sie nun seine K\u00f6nigstracht flicken und ein Narrenh\u00fctlein aufsetzen. Das Lied \u00bban die Thingm\u00e4nner\u00ab, das Ibsen 1860 in Christiania singen lie\u00df, r\u00fcckt der politischen Gegenwart wieder einmal das Beispiel der alten Sage vor, wie der uralte K\u00f6nig Egil als einsamer waffenloser Streiter, mit Schiefer die Brust umpanzert, dem Jarl von Jemtland entgegentrat und allein durch Macht und Mut seiner Pers\u00f6nlichkeit diesen Feind in einen Freund umwandelte. Gegenwart im Kontrastlichte der Vergangenheit zeigt auch der Dichtergru\u00df, den Ibsen 1860 an die Schweden entbot, als im Storthing zu Drontheim eine schwedische Reichstagsdeputation bei der Kr\u00f6nung des neuen K\u00f6nigs Karl XV. erschien. Die alte Olafskirche mit ihren Erinnerungen an schwedische S\u00e4nger und Helden, der Gletscherfirn, der Norwegen von Schweden trennt, wo im Winter 1718 ein ganzes Schwedenheer auf der Flucht aus Norwegen erfror, stehen da als Zeugen der Vers\u00f6hnung und der Einigkeit beider Bruderst\u00e4mme.\n\nWas Ibsen durch seine Flucht aus der Heimat bewirkt, sah er schon im Winter 1859\u201360 voraus; das beweist seine Dichtung \u00bbAuf den H\u00f6hen\u00ab, ein autobiographisches Symbol in neun Ges\u00e4ngen. Der Dichter, der einst ein Tr\u00e4umer war, wird hier ein K\u00fcnstler, den aber seine eigene K\u00e4lte h\u00f6hnt. Auf den H\u00f6hen wird nun erst die eigentliche Ibsenkunst geboren. Dieses gewaltige Beichtgedicht ist das Hochportal zu dem, was Henrik Ibsen fortan Eigenstes geschaffen hat. Ibsen war nun reif geworden f\u00fcr Werke wie \u00bbdie Kom\u00f6die der Liebe\u00ab, f\u00fcr Gestalten wie H\u00e5kon, Skule und den Baglerbischof Nikolas, der ihm ein leibhaftiges Bild alles dessen wurde, was ihm daheim verha\u00dft geworden war und was ihn endlich auch verjagte. Freilich sah er zu derselben Zeit mit gro\u00dfer dichterischer Intuition auch einen anderen norwegischen Typus. Und wenn Ibsens Landsleute ihm sp\u00e4ter vorwarfen, da\u00df er durch Gestalten wie den Bischof Nikolas und Peer Gynt den norwegischen Volkscharakter vor dem Auslande blo\u00dfgestellt habe, so k\u00f6nnte er sich auf \u00bbTerje Vigen\u00ab berufen, das Urbild des wetterharten, tapferen, aber bis zur \u00e4u\u00dfersten Selbst\u00fcberwindung opferm\u00fctigen und seeleng\u00fctigen, schlichten und wahrhaftigen Norwegers. Diese gr\u00f6\u00dfte Ballade, die Ibsen (Ende 1860) gedichtet hat, arbeitet mit starken Kontrasten. Hier arm, dort reich, hier G\u00fcte, dort H\u00e4rte, hier Heimat, dort Fremde. Sie ist ein Hochlied der Menschenliebe. Mit der Kraft und dem Mut der alten Wikinger vereinigt Terje Vigen die stille Demut des Urchristentums.\n\nMehr und mehr aber mochte Ibsen f\u00fchlen, da\u00df in Norwegen die Bischof Nikolas-Seele \u00fcber die Terje Vigen-Seele das \u00dcbergewicht gewann, und mit blutender Brust flog der Eidervogel gen S\u00fcden. Wie sich sein Wesen, seine Weltanschauung umwandeln, das sieht er im Bild einer \u00bbSchlucht\u00ab, durch die er einst einen wettergeschwellten Strom tosen sah, und die er dann in d\u00fcrrer Sonnenhitze steinig und staubig daliegen sieht. Nur ein Nachklang des st\u00fcrmenden, brausenden Einst ist geblieben: es knistert der Sand, ausged\u00f6rrt das Leben in ihm und um ihn! Und in dem Gedicht \u00bbMacht der Erinnerung\u00ab kommt ihm ein anderer Vergleich. Wieder ist es ein Tier seiner Heimat: der B\u00e4r, der in einem Feuerkessel das Tanzen lernen mu\u00dfte; aus Angst, sich die Tatzen zu verbrennen, h\u00fcpft er von einem Fu\u00df auf den anderen, und dazu spielt man \u00bbFreut euch des Lebens\u00ab. So oft er sp\u00e4ter die Weise h\u00f6rt, besinnt er sich auf seine Qual, und immer mu\u00df er dann tanzen. Das Lied aus Leid sitzt ihm im Leibe. Dem Dichter klingen auch in die Fremde seine Heimatschmerzen nach. Das alte Gleichnis vom \u00bbSchwan\u00ab taucht 1865 in Italien wieder auf. Ein wei\u00dfer Schwan zieht stumm durch stumme Wogen. Als aber rings um ihn her Lug und Meineid die Wellen aufr\u00fchren, trifft ihn der Todesschmerz, und nun mu\u00df der Dichterschwan singen. Es sind die Geburtswehen der gro\u00dfen und gr\u00f6\u00dfer gewordenen Ibsenschen Poesie, derjenigen Poesie, die hinter dem Baglerbischof entstand. Sie kam in \u00fcberstr\u00f6mender F\u00fclle. Von \u00bbKaiser und Galil\u00e4er\u00ab angefangen brach Ibsens gro\u00dfe Epoche heran. Und wie Ibsen als Dramatiker nach \u00bbBrand\u00ab und \u00bbPeer Gynt\u00ab ganz zum Prosadialog \u00fcberging, so flossen auch seine Verse immer seltener. Aber die gro\u00dfen Weltereignisse, die nun kamen, fanden ihn doch nicht stumm. Er mu\u00dfte protestieren. Schon die \u00bbErmordung Abraham Lincolns\u00ab am 14. April 1865 reizte Ibsen zu einem Gedicht, dem man, wenn es heute erschiene, eine stark anarchistische F\u00e4rbung zuspr\u00e4che. In dem Gedicht \u00bbOhne Namen\u00ab (1869), das auf Karl XV. von Schweden und Norwegen geht, beklagt er, da\u00df in einer Zeit, da anderw\u00e4rts gro\u00dfe Gedanken Wirklichkeit werden, die Tatenlust dieses K\u00f6nigs, den er f\u00fcr den m\u00f6glichen Verwirklicher des gro\u00dfskandinavischen Gedankens hielt, nicht zur Geltung kommen kann; und als Sedan die Kr\u00f6nung des D\u00fcppeler Werkes brachte, schlug er seine Dichterklinge so scharf wie m\u00f6glich in dem \u00bbBallonbrief\u00ab, den er im Dezember 1870 an eine schwedische Dame richtete. Zum Aufsehen, das dieser Brief machte, trug weniger sein Hauptinhalt bei, eine h\u00f6chst humoristisch-satirische Schilderung seiner Suezreise und der Reisegesellschaft, die nach Ibsens lebensl\u00e4nglicher Vorliebe als ein zoologischer Garten erscheint. Aufsehen erregte der Brief erst dadurch, da\u00df Ibsen seine \u00e4gyptischen Eindr\u00fccke als ein Sinnbild f\u00fcr den Feldzug der Deutschen nach Frankreich benutzte. Mit den G\u00f6tzenbildern \u00e4gyptischer Vorzeit verglich er die Politik Bismarcks, die Kriegskunst Moltkes. An den Heroen des Jahres 1870 vermi\u00dfte Ibsen die Gr\u00f6\u00dfe des Pers\u00f6nlichen; er sah nur den Drill, nur den Kommi\u00df, nur den \u00bbschwarzwei\u00dfen Trauerflor\u00ab, nicht Preu\u00dfens Schwert, nur Preu\u00dfens Rute, er sah nur die Prosa, nirgends den gro\u00dfen Gegenstand f\u00fcr eine gro\u00dfe Poesie:\n\nUnd nur das kann weiter leben,  \nWas ein Dichter kann erheben.\n\nSo kam Ibsen in seiner \u00bbDresdener Stubenfeste\u00ab, w\u00e4hrend er den L\u00e4rm drau\u00dfen mit seiner eigenen inneren Welt verglich, zu dem Trugschlu\u00df, Bismarck nicht f\u00fcr eine Pers\u00f6nlichkeit, sondern f\u00fcr einen Memnonsklotz zu halten, der durchaus nicht t\u00f6nt. Und er gelangte zu einem Gegensatz zwischen dem, was Bismarck der Welt gibt, und dem, was die Welt braucht und sucht. Die Welt lechzt nach Sch\u00f6nheit, nach festlicher Reinheit, nach hochzeitlichen Gew\u00e4ndern, und Bismarck gibt ihr \u2013 ja, was gibt er ihr? das sagt Ibsen nicht noch einmal ausdr\u00fccklich, aber es st\u00f6\u00dft ihn ab und zieht ihn in sich selbst zur\u00fcck. Das Gedicht, das auch der Reichsdeutsche heute, nach einem Menschenalter, mit gro\u00dfer Seelenruhe und mit einem Vergn\u00fcgen an den zahlreichen satirischen Finessen lesen darf, erregte damals die gr\u00f6\u00dfte nationale Entr\u00fcstung. Wir Deutschen aber m\u00fcssen dem Norweger seinen Bismarckha\u00df schon deshalb verzeihen, weil Bismarck auch im eigenen Lande, gerade so wie Ibsen im seinigen, die Feinde nie los geworden ist. Heute aber gibt es kaum noch einen Bewunderer Ibsens, der nicht zugleich ein Bewunderer Bismarcks w\u00e4re. Wir heute stellen Bismarck in die N\u00e4he jener Gro\u00dfen, die Ibsen verherrlicht hat, wie Gustav Adolf, Harald H\u00e5rfager. Und Ibsen selbst hat dem deutschen Reichsbegr\u00fcnder zwar nie seine Sympathien zugewendet, aber ihn doch als Vorbild f\u00fcr die Staatsm\u00e4nner seines Volkes hingestellt. Am 18. Juli 1872 feierte Norwegen die tausendj\u00e4hrige Erinnerung an die Einigung seiner St\u00e4mme durch Harald H\u00e5rfager. Aus Rom entbot auch Ibsen hierzu seinen poetischen Gru\u00df. Er entrollt das Bild jener gro\u00dfen Zeit und geht mit einem m\u00e4chtigen Sprunge zum Kontrastbild der Gegenwart \u00fcber, in der Haralds alte schlimme Feinde, die Tr\u00e4ger des Zwists und der Trennung, wieder heimlich durchs Land schleichen und, statt Haralds Reich weiter auszubauen, es ganz zerst\u00f6ren m\u00f6chten. Aber nicht nur den alten Ahnenk\u00f6nig stellt Ibsen seinem Volk als Vorbild hin, sondern auch M\u00e4nner der Gegenwart, die f\u00fcr ihre Nation dasselbe taten, was vor einem Jahrtausend f\u00fcr Norwegen Harald H\u00e5rfager tat; und Ibsen sucht zu derselben Zeit, da ein neuer K\u00f6nig, Oskar II., die Throne Schwedens und Norwegens bestieg, den Mann, der den gesamten Norden eint, wie Cavour und Garibaldi die Einheit Italiens, Bismarck das Deutsche Reich schuf. Derselbe Bismarck, dem er D\u00fcppel nicht vergeben konnte, wird ihm durch Sadowa und Sedan zum Politiker seines Einheitsideals. Bisweilen trieb es ihn, ein pers\u00f6nlicheres Lebenszeichen, als es die Dramen sein konnten, nach Hause zu schicken. Denn wenn er auch seine Schiffe hinter sich verbrannt hatte, der Rauch schlug eine Br\u00fccke zur\u00fcck ins Vaterland, und auf dieser Rauchbr\u00fccke ritt ein Reiter Nacht nun um Nacht (\u00bbVerbrannte Schiffe\u00ab). Im Juni 1875 hielten zu Upsala alle nordischen Studenten eine Versammlung ab, durch die Ibsen an seinen alten Einheitstraum erinnert wurde. Nicht weniger als in zwei langen Gedichten, \u00bbS\u00e4ngergru\u00df\u00ab und \u00bbAus der Ferne\u00ab, behandelt er von M\u00fcnchen aus diese Angelegenheit. Wieder mahnt er an das Beispiel Italiens und Deutschlands, die blutigen Ernst gemacht hatten; und zuletzt kommt er zu dem bitteren Schlu\u00df: das Volk im Norden habe die Freiheit erhalten, ohne f\u00fcr die Freiheit reif zu sein:\n\nNun stehn wir wie Tr\u00e4umer und wissen nicht Rat  \nZu einer mannhaft entscheidenden Tat.\n\nUnter den Tr\u00e4umern f\u00fchlt sich auch Ibsen stehen, in dem der Tatmensch latent blieb, um den K\u00fcnstler aus sich loszuringen. Auch das K\u00fcnstlerringen gab ihm noch immer Anla\u00df, sich aus der Ferne daheim vernehmlich zu machen. Als ihn im November 1869 \u00bbbei Port Said\u00ab die Nachricht traf, in Christiania habe sein \u00bbBund der Jugend\u00ab einen Theaterskandal geweckt, rief er mitten aus der Herrlichkeit des Orients angesichts eines neuen Riesenwerks bitterh\u00f6hnisch hin\u00fcber: \u00bbMein Land ist das alte!\u00ab Auch der \u00bbReimbrief\u00ab, den er zu Ostern 1871 aus Dresden an die d\u00e4nische Hofschauspielerin Frau Heiberg sandte, enth\u00e4lt k\u00fcnstlerische Bekenntnisse, wie dieses:\n\nProsastil ist f\u00fcr Ideen,  \nVers f\u00fcr Bilder.  \nHerzenslust und Herzenswehen,  \nSorgen, die durchs Haupt mir gehen,  \nGroll und Fehde  \nIch am liebsten \u00e4u\u00dfr' und schilder'  \nIn gebundner Rede.\n\nDas eigentliche Glaubensbekenntnis seiner Dichtermission enth\u00e4lt aber der andere \u00bbReimbrief\u00ab, den er 1875 an Georg Brandes richtete. Hier findet sich die einfachste Erkl\u00e4rung f\u00fcr Ibsens dichterische Stellung zu den Stoffen, die ihm die Welt bietet:\n\nMein Amt ist _fragen_ , nicht Bescheid zu geben.\n\nIns Neuland, zu den Zukunftszielen geht auf dem Schiffe eine Leiche mit. Es wird nicht schwer sein, in allen Werken Ibsens diese Leiche zu sp\u00fcren. Ibsen, der ein Frager und kein Tatmensch ist, schafft die Leiche nirgends weg, aber er deutet nach der Richtung, in der sie liegt. Nun m\u00f6gen andere sie suchen, sie finden und sich und andere von ihr befreien!\n\n1874 beschlo\u00df Henrik Ibsen sein Jugendst\u00fcck _\u00bbCatilina\u00ab_ neu herauszugeben. Er schreibt am 22. November seinem Verleger Hegel: \u00bbIn den letzten Jahren hat es die Kritik oft als f\u00fcr mich charakteristisch hervorgehoben, da\u00df ich mit diesem St\u00fcck deb\u00fctiert habe, und ich selbst mu\u00df dem zustimmen, da ich jetzt f\u00fchle, wie eng es mit meinen damaligen Lebensumst\u00e4nden zusammenh\u00e4ngt, und wie es die Keime zu manchem einschlie\u00dft, was sp\u00e4ter in meiner Dichtung zutage getreten ist\u00ab. Er will die Gedanken und Motive nicht antasten, nur die sprachliche Form will er \u00fcberarbeiten. Und in seinem biographischen Schreiben an Hansen (28. Okt. 1870) bemerkt er zur Entstehungsgeschichte des Dramas: \u00bbCatilina wurde geschrieben in einer kleinen Spie\u00dfb\u00fcrgerstadt, wo mir die M\u00f6glichkeit nicht gegeben war, dem, was da alles in mir g\u00e4rte, Luft zu machen\u00ab. Er hat der zweiten Ausgabe ein Vorwort mitgegeben, und es w\u00e4re vermessen, dem feinen Humor, mit dem der reife Mann auf sein fr\u00fchestes Werden zur\u00fcckblickt, irgend etwas hinzuzuf\u00fcgen. Wer die jugendliche Unreife des Erstlingsdramas nicht als etwas R\u00fchrendes und Anheimelndes empfindet, der wird dem Ibsenschen Catilina sein Dasein schon um dieses Vorworts willen verzeihen m\u00fcssen, das zu den liebensw\u00fcrdigsten und zugleich sch\u00e4rfsten Beichten geh\u00f6rt, die ein Dichter \u00fcber seine Uranf\u00e4nge abgelegt hat. Wie Schiller begann Ibsen sein Lebenswerk mit der catilinarischen Existenz, die ihm bei der Vorbereitung zur Reifepr\u00fcfung durch Sallust und Cicero n\u00e4hertrat. W\u00e4hrend er seinem Ged\u00e4chtnis den Lehrstoff einpaukte, regte sich etwas ganz anderes in ihm; die Gestalt des r\u00f6mischen Verschw\u00f6rers trat vor sein inneres Auge durchaus nicht so, wie sie Cicero und Sallust ihm \u00fcbermitteln wollten.\n\nDas St\u00fcck beginnt mit einem Monolog des Catilina, der fast wie ein h\u00f6hnischer Protest der reifen Kunst Ibsens seine dramatische Wirksamkeit zu er\u00f6ffnen scheint: Catilina strotzt von Selbsterkenntnis. Da treten drei Gesandte einer von Roms Tyrannei bedr\u00fcckten gallischen V\u00f6lkerschaft auf, die so unvorsichtig sind, sich von Catilina belauschen zu lassen. Pfui, sch\u00e4me dich, tadelt ein Allobroger den Horcher an der Wand, aber Catilina wei\u00df sich zu rechtfertigen. Er entwirft den Zugereisten eine Schilderung seines Vaterlandes, in die Ibsen wohl manches hineingeheimnisste, was er gegen sein Norwegen auf dem Herzen trug; Catilinas Vertrauen zu den drei Fremdlingen ist so gro\u00df, da\u00df er ihnen seinen Umsturzplan verr\u00e4t: \u00bbDoch bald soll eine neue Sonne flammen\u00ab. In dieser Hoffnung wechselt die Szene, und vier junge r\u00f6mische Patriziers\u00f6hne geben ein Bild der Verworfenheit ihres Standes, bis ein Veteran aus Sullas Heer in dieser jeunesse dor\u00e9e deren Instinkte weckt, und man einig wird, Catilina zum Haupt einer Verschw\u00f6rung gegen den Mi\u00dfbrauch der herrschenden Amtsgewalt zu machen. Catilina aber ist gerade im Begriff, ein frevelhaftes Liebesabenteuer zu bestehen; er schleicht im Vestatempel einer Vestalin nach, und diesmal belauscht er nicht aus Zufall, sondern mit Absicht ihren Monolog, worin sie ihr Nonnentum beklagt. Beide kennen sich schon, ohne zu wissen, wer sie sind. Beide einigen sich im Hochflug ihrer Gedanken und Gef\u00fchle. Sie will sich ganz an ihn schlie\u00dfen, wenn er sie an ihrem Todfeinde, dem Entehrer ihrer Schwester, wird gerochen haben. Er schw\u00f6rt es ihr zu. Aber wer ist der Todfeind? Das ist Catilina! Catilina? Das bin ich.\n\nVor Entsetzen erlischt das heilige Vestafeuer, das die rasch aus Lieb' in Ha\u00df verkehrte Jungfrau h\u00e4tte h\u00fcten sollen; sie wird zum Lebendigbegrabenwerden abgef\u00fchrt, aber ein Neffe Catilinas, der alles belauscht hat, ist auch schon in Furia verliebt und wird das seinige tun. Catilina ist nun in der \u00fcbelsten Lage: er hat geschworen, sich selbst zu verderben, und andererseits braucht doch die Zeit einen Mann wie ihn notwendigst. Dabei ist er Familienvater, und sein sanftes Weib Aurelia m\u00f6chte gern alles wissen, was ihn qu\u00e4lt. Sie m\u00f6chte ihren Verschw\u00f6rer vom Orte seiner Taten in idyllische Einsamkeit ziehen. Aber ihr v\u00e4terliches Landgut hat er versilbert, um seine politische Agitation damit zu bezahlen. Sie ertr\u00e4gt es mit Fassung; denn die sanfte Frau hat, wie so manche sp\u00e4tere Ibsensche Dulderin, ein Heldenherz; ja sie hat ihren Catilina nie inniger geliebt als eben jetzt, da er den Rest des Geldes, f\u00fcr das er ihr Vatererbe losschlug, einem hilfsbed\u00fcrftigen alten Krieger schenkt. Die Frage, ob der Ehebrecher und M\u00e4dchensch\u00e4nder edler Wallungen f\u00e4hig ist, begleitet uns zu Furia, der lebendig Begrabenen, die in einem langen Monolog sichtlich matter werdend, \u00fcber ihr merkw\u00fcrdiges Schicksal br\u00fctet und mit ihrem hei\u00dfgeliebten Todfeinde Catilina in demselben Kahn den Styx befahren m\u00f6chte, bis Catilinas Neffe Curius sie befreit.\n\nIm zweiten Akt plant Catilina trotz allem Zuspruch seiner Freunde, sich mit dem sanften Weib Aurelia nach Gallien zur\u00fcckzuziehen. Zuerst aber will er noch einmal \u00fcber sein Leben nachdenken; seine Selbstbetrachtung schlie\u00dft mit der Frage an das Schicksal, ob er ohne Heldentat aus der Welt gehen mu\u00df, und sein Schicksal antwortet: nein. Sein Schicksal hat n\u00e4mlich auch diesen Monolog belauscht; sein Schicksal ist die Exvestalin Furia. Sie scheint Ha\u00df und Rachgier im Grabe gelassen zu haben. Nun spornt sie ihren Helden zur Heldentat, zur Befreiung Roms, und nachdem er l\u00e4ngere Zeit ihrer Rede Zauberflu\u00df in sich gesogen hat, erkl\u00e4rt er kurz und b\u00fcndig: \u00bbIch reise nicht!\u00ab Furia offenbart sich ihm in einem Sinne, dessen sich auch der sp\u00e4tere Ibsen nicht zu sch\u00e4men braucht, als das Bild aus seiner eigenen Seele, als seine sch\u00f6ne Nemesis, die ihm dasselbe zuraunt, was damals Ibsen so oft in seinen Gedichten sich selbst gesagt hat: \u00bbdie Nacht ist unser Reich; im Dunkeln herrschen wir\u00ab, und unter dem Einflu\u00df des Weibes erkl\u00e4rt (echtester Ibsen) der Mann: \u00bbjetzt bin ich erst ich selbst!\u00ab So tritt dieser Karl Moor unter seine Bande, als diese eben im Begriff ist, einem Spiegelberg auf den Leim zu gehen. Catilina entwickelt nunmehr sein politisches Programm, den alten R\u00f6mergeist wieder zu wecken, aber da kommt er beim jungen Adel sch\u00f6n an, der nichts als prassen, saufen und herrschen will. Man dringt d\u00f6lchlings auf Catilina ein, doch dieser Todbereite bietet selbst die freie Brust den Freundesdolchen dar, und das macht Eindruck, \u2013 man ist wie umgewandelt. Catilina beginnt in langer Rede zu schw\u00e4rmen, wie Karl Moor bald \u00bbwild\u00ab, bald \u00bbhingerissen\u00ab; damit hat er einen gro\u00dfen parlamentarischen Erfolg, und man verschw\u00f6rt sich. Selbst Spiegelberg-Lentulus tut mit; nur Curius, der Retter Furias, soll fern vom Schu\u00df bleiben, denn er ist Catilinas Lieblingsneffe. Aber w\u00e4hrend dieser Knabe gerade seine eigent\u00fcmliche Lage bedenkt, erfa\u00dft die lauschende Furia ihn beim Zipfel seines Monologs und macht ihrem Retter den Standpunkt klar, da\u00df er nichts von ihr zu hoffen habe, da\u00df sie f\u00fcr ihn und die Welt tot sei, da\u00df Furia nur ist, wo Catilina ist. Das geht dem armen J\u00fcngling nahe, ihn erfa\u00dft wilde Eifersucht auf seinen Oheim, und er l\u00e4\u00dft sich von Furias Basiliskenblick verleiten, die catilinarische Verschw\u00f6rung anzugeben; die Szene erinnert an Adelheid und Franz in Goethes G\u00f6tz auch durch das Motiv vom Liebeslohn, der winkt; aber auch Curius spricht ein echtes Ibsenwort: \u00bbWer bin ich selbst? Ich kenne mich nicht mehr. Eins wei\u00df ich nur: da\u00df ich ein andrer war, eh' ich dich sah\u00ab. Mithin besitzt Furia die Kraft, zwei M\u00e4nner umzuwandeln. Aber Furia besitzt diese Kraft auch fremden V\u00f6lkerschaften gegen\u00fcber; jene Gallier, die sich von Rom unterdr\u00fcckt f\u00fchlten und nun mit Catilina gemeinsame Sache machen wollen, werden durch die intrigante Kassandrapose dieser r\u00f6mischen Hedda Gabler kopfscheu und lassen den Verschw\u00f6rer im Stich. So sehen wir beim zweiten Aktschlu\u00df das edle Wild umstellt; dort lauert der meuchlerische Parricida; hier stiebt das R\u00fctli auseinander; und durch die Nachtluft schrillt ein Racheschrei. Er kommt aus Furias Kehle, aber Catilina fragt sich: \u00bbRang diese Stimme sich aus meinem Innern?\u00ab Ja, ihn beherrscht Rache; er st\u00f6\u00dft sein Weib zur\u00fcck, und gegen seine Vaterstadt richtet sich seine Zerst\u00f6rungswut.\n\nDer dritte und letzte Akt f\u00fchrt von Rom in etrurische W\u00e4lder, aber er f\u00fchrt zugleich aus einer verh\u00e4ltnism\u00e4\u00dfigen Ordnung und Klarheit der Gestaltung in chaotisches Wirrsal der Begebenheiten; ein Faden ist nicht mehr festzuhalten. Jener Parricida meuchelt nicht, sondern verr\u00e4t nur den Catilina, um dann sofort reum\u00fctig Abbitte zu leisten. Aus der Unterwelt steigt, wie der schwarze Ritter vor der Jungfrau von Orleans, ein Schatten auf, Sullas Geist, der nach l\u00e4ngerem Schwulst zu Catilina das prophetische R\u00e4tselwort spricht, das wir freilich nun schon verstehen: \u00bbDu f\u00e4llst von eigner Hand, und doch wird eine fremde Hand dich f\u00e4llen\u00ab. Catilina verliert die Schlacht; alle seine Freunde fallen, nur er bleibt leben; und doch wirkt er auf Furia und auch auf sich selbst wie ein Schattenbild, gejagt von tausend Schatten: Ibsen, der f\u00fcnfzig Jahre sp\u00e4ter seinen Epilog \u00bbWenn wir Toten erwachen\u00ab betitelt, lie\u00df in seinem Erstlingswerk die Furia sagen: \u00bbBald steht sie auf, die Schar der tausend Toten\u00ab, die durch Catilina ins Ungl\u00fcck gerieten; und er vertritt schon hier den Gedanken, da\u00df das Tote lebendig, das Lebendige tot ist; ein Gedanke, aus dem nicht mehr der kleine Apotheker, sondern schon der gro\u00dfe Dichter spricht, der seinen ersten Helden die Frau, die ihm gut ist, erstechen l\u00e4\u00dft, weil sie ihn mit ihrer hausfraulichen Liebe \u00bban ein halbes Leben schmieden will\u00ab. Und auch das ist schon echt ibsenisch, da\u00df er, indem er die Frau t\u00f6tet, mit ihr seine ganze Welt t\u00f6tet und zu dem Schlusse kommt: \u00bbTot ist die Sonne\u00ab. Wie sp\u00e4ter Pfarrer Rosmer die Leiche seiner Frau auf dem R\u00fccken tragen sollte, so f\u00fchlt schon hier Catilina die eigene Leiche auf seinem R\u00fccken, und sein R\u00fccken \u00e4chzt unter dieser Last. Zwischen dem Genius des Guten und dem Genius des B\u00f6sen schwebte ein aus Gut und B\u00f6se gemischter Charakter; das B\u00f6se brachte ihm den Erdentod, aber \u2013 so wenigstens steht die Hoffnung \u2013 an der Hand des Guten, seiner Aurelia, steigt er empor \u00bbzum Reich des Lichtes und des Friedens\u00ab, zu dem Reiche, welches das wahre Leben ist; die Erde war nur Furias Grabgew\u00f6lbe; die hienieden Wandelnden sind lebendig begraben! Wie oft werden wir diesem Ton in Ibsens Dramen noch begegnen!\n\nDie Bergener T\u00e4tigkeit warf Henrik Ibsen als erste reifere Frucht das nationale \u00bbGeschichtsdrama\u00ab \u00bb _Frau Inger auf \u00d6strot_ \u00ab ab. Es ist im Winter 1854 geschrieben, wurde am 2. Januar 1855, dem Stiftungstag der Bergener B\u00fchne aufgef\u00fchrt, 1857 in \u00bbIllustreret Nyhedsblad\u00ab abgedruckt und erst 1874, nach stilistischer Umarbeitung, als Buch herausgegeben. Historisch freilich sind an diesem Drama nur die Namen und das Kost\u00fcm, die Einkleidung: Charaktere, Begebenheiten, der tragische Gedanke, die Ideen \u00fcberhaupt beruhen auf Ibsens freiester Erfindung. W\u00e4re Ibsen geschichtlich verfahren, so h\u00e4tte er seinem St\u00fccke vor allem nicht die starke F\u00e4rbung einer antid\u00e4nischen Tendenz geben d\u00fcrfen, die dem Hausdichter des urnorwegischen Kunstunternehmens sozusagen im Blute lag. Das Drama f\u00fchrt in die K\u00e4mpfe um die norwegische Selbst\u00e4ndigkeit, um die Befreiung vom fremden Joch. Eine Aufgabe, w\u00fcrdig einer \u00fcberragenden M\u00e4nnernatur, ist auf die Schultern eines Weibes gelegt. In diesem Weib ist Gr\u00f6\u00dfe; hohe Geistesgaben sind ihr verliehen, ein ungew\u00f6hnlicher Scharfsinn, geschmeidige Klugheit und Energie; hinzu kommen der Wert vornehmster Geburt und das starke moralische \u00dcbergewicht, das sie in den Augen der Welt hat. In den Augen der Welt. Auf Inger richtet sich die Hoffnung des Landes. Jetzt aber steht sie da, gleichsam mit gebundenen H\u00e4nden. Sie kann ihr Lebenswerk nicht erf\u00fcllen, weil diese H\u00e4nde nicht rein sind. Ibsens Kunstmittel dramatischer Analyse wagt sich hier zum ersten Mal sch\u00fcchtern hervor. Langsam rollt sich das Vergangenheitsbild auf.\n\nInger hat einst an der Bahre eines schm\u00e4hlich hingemordeten Helden geschworen, sie werde nicht nur diese Bluttat an den Feinden des Landes r\u00e4chen, sie werde auch die R\u00e4cherin und Erl\u00f6serin ihres Volkes sein. Gott selbst hat sie dazu berufen. Im Liebestaumel aber vergi\u00dft sie des Gottesrufes. Sie hat einem Sohn das Leben geschenkt, und dieser Sohn wird ihr in das Land der d\u00e4nenfreundlichen Schweden durch den Buhlen entf\u00fchrt. Die Mutter l\u00f6st in Inger die Volksheldin ab. Sie ist der Aufgabe nicht mehr gewachsen; sie ist unf\u00e4hig zum Handeln geworden; eine hamletische Ader hat sich in ihr aufgetan. Den Sohn ihrer Liebe wieder zu erlangen, \u2013 darauf ist ihr ganzes Sinnen gerichtet. Sie wird halb und halb zur Verr\u00e4terin ihres Volkes: sie sucht sich die Neigung der Schweden zu erkaufen durch die Heirat mit einem ungeliebten Mann, durch schm\u00e4hliche Verkuppelung ihrer T\u00f6chter. Aber der \u00bbLohn\u00ab dieser ihrer schlimm-heiligen Bem\u00fchungen wird zugleich ihre \u00bbStrafe\u00ab. Da ihr der Sohn ins Haus gesandt wird, erkennt sie ihn nicht, oder vielmehr sie verkennt ihn, indem sie ihn f\u00fcr seinen eigenen Wettbewerber um den schwedischen Thron h\u00e4lt. In der Mutter ist die _K\u00f6nigs_ mutter\u00ab erwacht, und so l\u00e4\u00dft sie den Gast ermorden, um dem eigenen Kinde, wie sie glaubt, Leben und Reich zu retten.\n\nRoman Woerner, dessen erster Band die Sch\u00f6pfungen bis 1871 behandelt, legt dem gewaltigen Hauptmotiv des Dramas: \u00bbdie Mutter t\u00f6tet ihren unerkannten Sohn\u00ab, die aristotelische Lehre unter, die einen solchen dramatischen Vorwurf als im h\u00f6chsten Grade tragisch bezeichnet. Doch er hat andererseits auch recht, wenn er sagt, da\u00df sich hier unser Gef\u00fchl von dem Empfinden der schicksalsgl\u00e4ubigen Griechen scheiden mu\u00df, und da\u00df unheilvolle Verwechslungen die Romantiker, ja selbst Schiller (Braut von Messina) auf den B\u00fchnen unseres Landes nicht heimisch machen k\u00f6nnen.\n\nAber \u00bbFrau Inger auf \u00d6strot\u00ab ist nicht eigentlich ein Schicksalsdrama, denn nicht der Zufall beherrscht den tragischen Ausgang Ingers, sondern das Strafgericht, das aus ihren eigenen Taten aufw\u00e4chst. Eher ein Drama der Mi\u00dfverst\u00e4ndnisse und Verwechslungen. Ibsen, der die Dramaturgie Scribes genau studiert hatte, kn\u00fcpft sein tragisches Gewebe ganz mit den Mitteln der franz\u00f6sischen Intriguenkom\u00f6die. In Fechterstellung stehen Nils Lykke, der r\u00e4nkes\u00fcchtige und selbstische D\u00e4nengesandte, und die gescheit-energische Edelfrau einander gegen\u00fcber, und mit einer kalten, fast mathematischen Genauigkeit behandelt Ibsen Schlag und Gegenschlag in diesem Kampf um Lebensinteressen. Doch Nils Lykke, der ganz wie ein Diplomat der alten Schule auftritt, sp\u00fcrt nach Ibsenart an sich das Gesetz der Wandlung; die Wandlung kommt durch die Frau. Ehedem hat ihn, den ge\u00fcbten Don Juan, das Weibliche nur angezogen, jetzt aber zieht es ihn hinan. Er wird gel\u00e4utert durch die Liebe eines M\u00e4dchens, das das tiefste Leid durch ihn erfahren hat und an diesem Schmerz zugrunde geht. Hier erscheint zum ersten Male, sch\u00e4rfer umrissen, Ibsens individuelle Umbildung des Gretchenideals. \u00bbEin Weib ist das M\u00e4chtigste auf Erden, und in ihrer Hand liegt es, den Mann dahin zu leiten, wo Gott ihn haben will.\u00ab In diesem Wort steckt der Keim der Vorstellungen von der Macht des Frauenherzens, von der sittlichen Sendung der Frau, die das Dichterleben Ibsens fortan beherrschen. Bei ihm ist dem Manne die Frau nicht die Lebensbegleiterin, die Lebensversch\u00f6nerin nur, \u2013 sie ist im Dasein des Mannes eine Gewalt, eine l\u00e4uternde, aufw\u00e4rtsweisende, opferbringende, rettende Gewalt. Und andererseits treibt Ibsen in der Charakterschilderung Frau Ingers schon jene \u00bbSelbstanatomie\u00ab, durch die seine reifsten Dichtungen Leben empfangen haben. Selbstanatomie im Gegenbilde, in negativer Darstellung: Frau Inger mu\u00df untergehen, weil sie \u2013 um es prosaisch auszudr\u00fccken \u2013 ihren Beruf verfehlt hat. Ihr war bestimmt, im \u00bbeigenen Namen\u00ab zu kommen und etwas Gro\u00dfes in der Welt durchzusetzen, \u2013 durch g\u00f6ttliche F\u00fcgung wie durch eigene Wahl. Sie hat sich vom Wege abdr\u00e4ngen lassen durch \u00bbetwas au\u00dfer ihr\u00ab. Das war ihr Gl\u00fcck und ihr Untergang. Sich selber treu zu sein, das verlangt Ibsen von jedem, dem ein Lebenswerk und Lebensziel geworden ist, \u2013 und er hat es an sich selbst erf\u00fcllt.\n\nIm Sommer 1855 entsteht das dreiaktige lyrische Drama \u00bb _Das Fest auf Solhaug_ \u00ab. Der n\u00e4chste Stiftungstag des Bergener Theaters (2. Jan. 1856) sieht auch dieses Werk des Hausdichters wieder auf den Brettern. Der Erfolg war gro\u00df. Ein menschlich-pers\u00f6nlicher Gehalt erw\u00e4rmte; es schlug etwas durch von der zarten Frische eines jugendlichen Liebeslebens. Das Studium von Landstads epochemachender Sammlung \u00bbNorwegischer Volkslieder\u00ab hallte in Ibsen lebhaft nach. Er geht von der Betrachtung des sp\u00e4teren norwegischen Mittelalters (\u00bbInger\u00ab) auf die Sagazeit zur\u00fcck, aber vorl\u00e4ufig schaltet er die Motive der \u00bbStreitigkeiten zwischen K\u00f6nigen und H\u00e4uptlingen, zwischen Parteien und Gefolgschaften\u00ab von dramatischer Behandlung aus. Dagegen findet er in den isl\u00e4ndischen \u00bbAettesagaer\u00ab (Familiensagas) das, was er \u00bbzur menschlichen Einkleidung der Stimmungen, Vorstellungen, Gedanken brauchte, die ihn damals erf\u00fcllten\u00ab. Durch das Zusammenleben mit den M\u00e4nnern und Frauen jener Sagas, durch die Vertiefung in ihre Wechselbeziehungen entsteht der erste Entwurf der \u00bbHelden auf Helgeland\u00ab. Nun aber dr\u00e4ngt das Studium der Volkslieder vor; romantisch-erotische Lebenserfahrungen mischen sich ein, und aus den \u00bbHelden\u00ab wird zun\u00e4chst ein lichteres, leichteres Kunstgebilde.\n\nDas Grundthema des reizenden St\u00fcckes wird entscheidend f\u00fcr Ibsens sp\u00e4tere Dichtung: der Mann, der zwischen zwei Frauen steht, die Schwestern sind. Es liegt in \u00bbCatilina\u00ab und \u00bbFrau Inger\u00ab vorbereitet: Catilina gewinnt die leidenschaftliche Neigung des Weibes, dessen Schwester er in den Tod gebracht hat; Nils Lykke wird von Eline geliebt und hat doch Lucia, die Schwester, auf dem Gewissen. Hier aber lebt die Frau mit den fr\u00fcheren Anspr\u00fcchen, die Verschm\u00e4hte, in ihrem Liebesleben Gekr\u00e4nkte, _neben_ dem M\u00e4dchen, das unbewu\u00dft das Herz des umworbenen Mannes erobert und als die Siegerin ins Gl\u00fcck davon zieht. Es ist nicht immer das Gl\u00fcck, das diese Siegerinnen bei Ibsen erringen: Dagny, Frau Bernick, Gunhild Borkman kommt der Sieg teuer zu stehen. Hier aber, wo das Hochgef\u00fchl des Br\u00e4utigamgl\u00fccks \u00bbSommerwetter\u00ab um Ibsen breitet, l\u00e4\u00dft er sein Liebespaar ins Land der Sonne ausziehen und auch \u00fcber ihr, die wie ein geheimer b\u00f6ser Geist der Schwester in den Weg tritt und zur S\u00fcnderin wird, freilich nicht in Taten, aber in W\u00fcnschen, Absichten, Vorstellungen, \u2013 \u00fcber Margit h\u00e4ngt er nur ein leichtes S\u00fchnew\u00f6lklein auf.\n\nDer Held, Gudmund, ist ein unbehauster S\u00e4nger; das Fahrende und Unbehauste seines Lebens mag auch der arme Bergener Poet herb in sich gesp\u00fcrt haben: sein einziger Reichtum ist sein Lied. Gudmund findet die Freundin seines Herzens als die Frau eines andern wieder; diesen andern, einen platten, dummen, t\u00e4ppischen alten Rittersmann hat sie geheiratet, weil er reich und in seinem Gau m\u00e4chtig war; nun aber, da die Leidenschaft f\u00fcr den S\u00e4nger mit d\u00e4monischer Macht wieder \u00fcber sie kommt, f\u00e4llt ihr der Fluch, sich um Geld und Gut verkauft zu haben, schwer ins Bewu\u00dftsein; auch ihr ist der Lohn zur Strafe geworden: Margits unb\u00e4ndige Seele, ihre geistige Gr\u00f6\u00dfe stammen von Catilinas Furia, von Frau Inger her, \u2013 doch in dem Motiv der durch Kauf geschlossenen Ehe ist sie wiederum die Ahnherrin der Frau Alving, Hedda Gabler, Ellida Wangel (in Klein Eyolf ist's ein Mann). In Margit steigen verbrecherische Gedanken auf: sie will sich von der verha\u00dften Ehe mit Bengt (dem vorausgeahnten J\u00f6rgen Tesman) wenn n\u00f6tig durch eine Gewalttat befreien, um ihrem Dichter angeh\u00f6ren zu k\u00f6nnen. Sie hat den Willen, aber nicht das unbedenkliche Gem\u00fct zur Tat. Sie beneidet jene fr\u00e4nkische Prinzessin, die Norwegens K\u00f6nigin geworden ist: die nahm sich den Buhlen und mischte Gift f\u00fcr ihren Gatten. Und hier spricht Margit einen Gedanken aus, den Ibsen in seinen gro\u00dfen norwegischen Strafdramen wieder aufnimmt: diese Menschen in den fremden Landen sind nicht so weichherzig wie wir; die f\u00fcrchten sich nicht, einen Gedanken zur Tat zu machen. Der Norweger aber \u00bbgeht drum herum\u00ab. Margit spinnt ihren Plan auch dann noch fort, als sie ihren Gudmund in den Rosenfesseln der sorglosen Signe sieht. Sie kommt sogar (\u00fcbrigens mit einer au\u00dferordentlich wirksamen Motivierung Ibsens, die das Geschlechtliche streift) \u00fcber den toten Punkt der Willensschw\u00e4che hinweg; nur ein Zufall verhindert die Ausf\u00fchrung. Bengt f\u00e4llt durch eine andere Hand, und Margit geht, von Gottes Finger gewiesen, in ein Kloster.\n\nSo freudig das Publikum die Dichtung aufgenommen hat, so bitter war die Tageskritik. Nach Jahr und Tag hat sich Ibsen mit seinen damaligen Rezensenten auseinandergesetzt und mit besonderem Ingrimm den Einwand widerlegt, er habe sein St\u00fcck nach des D\u00e4nen Henrik Hertz Schauspiel \u00bbSvend Dyrings Hus\u00ab gearbeitet. Den schlagendsten Gegenbeweis bringt er selbst herbei, indem er feststellt, da\u00df Hertzens Drama eine Nachahmung von Kleists \u00bbK\u00e4thchen von Heilbronn\u00ab ist, w\u00e4hrend \u00bbdas Fest auf Solhaug\u00ab mit Kleists Dichtung nicht das mindeste gemein hat. Das \u00bbFest auf Solhaug\u00ab ist Ibsen sp\u00e4ter (nach dem Brief an Hansen) fremder geworden als irgend ein anderes seiner St\u00fccke. \u00bbEine Studie, zu der ich mich nicht mehr bekenne\u00ab. Rasch wandelte sich ihm die lyrische Romantik eines einmal ergriffenen Stoffes zur\u00fcck in die menschliche Tragik desselben Gegenstands; \u00fcber Entstehungszeit und Jugendschicksal der _\u00bbHelden auf Helgeland\u00ab (Nordische Heerfahrt)_ , der Dichtung, der Ibsen von allen seinen fr\u00fchen Arbeiten am z\u00e4rtlichsten zugetan war, weil sich in ihr st\u00e4rker als in den anderen Werken der ersten Epoche seine Weltanschauung offenbart, ist schon oben gesprochen worden. Margit und Signe wandeln sich in die menschlich st\u00e4rkeren und volleren Naturen der Hj\u00f6rdis und Dagny. Ibsen betont ausdr\u00fccklich: \u00bbF\u00fcr Hj\u00f6rdis habe ich dasselbe Modell benutzt wie sp\u00e4ter f\u00fcr \u203aSchwanhild\u2039 in der \u00bbKom\u00f6die der Liebe\u00ab. Und vergegenw\u00e4rtigt man sich Hj\u00f6rdis' Worte: \u00bbKlar seh' ich jetzt meinen Beruf im Leben: Dich ber\u00fchmt zu machen \u00fcber alle Lande! Du hast vor mir gestanden jeden Tag, jede Stunde, die ich hier gelebt\u00ab, \u2013 so kann es keinen Zweifel \u00fcber das Urbild geben. Es war der Beruf seiner eigenen Frau.\n\nIn dem Vorwort, das Ibsen 1876 der deutschen Ausgabe mit auf den Weg gegeben hat, weist er ausdr\u00fccklich jeden Zusammenhang seines Werks mit unserem Nationalepos der Nibelungen zur\u00fcck. Aber auch die W\u00e4lsungsaga seiner Heimat erkannte er nur unter Vorbehalt als Grundlage des Dramas an. Vielmehr hielt er sich auch hier an verschiedene Familiensagas, in denen allm\u00e4hlich die Riesen und Halbg\u00f6tter zu heldenhaften Menschen und dadurch erst brauchbar f\u00fcr die B\u00fchne wurden, die den Ma\u00dfstab der Menschlichkeit nach Ibsens Ansicht nicht entbehren kann. Das St\u00fcck spielt im zehnten Jahrhundert, als schon das Christentum oder, wie Hj\u00f6rdis sagt, der wei\u00dfe Gott nach Norden drang. Zum Schlu\u00df des Dramas \u00fcberrascht uns etwas unvorbereitet die Wendung, da\u00df Sigurd am englischen Hofe Christ geworden ist und also auch der gemeinsame Tod ihn nicht mit der heidnischen Geliebten vereinen kann, die auf schwarzen jagenden Rossen den alten G\u00f6ttern zueilt. Der am Schlu\u00df pl\u00f6tzlich hervortretende Gegensatz des Glaubens ist f\u00fcr die Stimmung des ganzen Dramas bezeichnend.\n\nAuch hier machte der Dichter an einem Wendepunkte der Weltgeschichte Halt, wo zwei Zeitalter sich scheiden. Ein solcher Weltenwandel wirkt auf die Menschen der \u00dcbergangszeit wie ein gewaltiges Schicksal und tr\u00e4gt, wie dieses, j\u00e4hen Zwiespalt in den Scho\u00df der Familien und in die Brust des einzelnen. Die Gestalten des Dramas stehen alle somit unter dem Druck eines Verh\u00e4ngnisses. \u00bbDie Wege der Gewaltigen sind gekr\u00fcmmt und dir wie mir unbekannt\u00ab, sagt der Heide Gunnar, der dem deutschen K\u00f6nig Gunther entspricht, zu seinem Weibe Hj\u00f6rdis. Sigurd spricht ein Wort aus, das f\u00fcr den Wiking fast zu philosophisch ist: \u00bbSo manches Werk kann Menschenwille vollbringen, aber die gro\u00dfen Taten werden vom Schicksal gelenkt\u00ab. Und Hj\u00f6rdis erwidert: \u00bbJa es walten b\u00f6se Nornen; doch ihre Macht ist gering, finden sie nicht Helfer in unserer eigenen Brust (beinah ein Solne\u00dfwort bereits!). Das Gl\u00fcck geh\u00f6rt dem, der stark genug ist, die Nornen zum Kampfe zu fordern\u00ab. Dieses Zwiegespr\u00e4ch kl\u00e4rt manches R\u00e4tsel der gesamten Ibsenschen Poesie auf, die \u00fcberall, in alter wie in neuer Zeit, in altem wie in neuem Stoff nach dem einen Ziel ging: zu zeigen, wie Charaktere im Kampfe gegen ihr Schicksal erstarken, ohne es zu \u00fcberwinden. Des Dichters Weltanschauung verwirft in \u00dcbereinstimmung mit der modernen Naturwissenschaft die Lehre von der Freiheit des Willens, aber seine Kunst f\u00fchrt Menschen vor, die ihre ganze Kraft und ihre ganze Liebe daran setzen, ihren Willen zu emanzipieren. F\u00fchrt dieses Streben auch nicht zum Ziel, so macht es doch den Strebenden gr\u00f6\u00dfer und besser und freier. Man wendet dagegen ein: warum dieses nutzlose Streben? warum bei so trostloser Weltanschauung denn nicht lieber den Quietismus der Mohamedaner? Warum? Weil es mit dem sittlichen Streben nach der nie erreichbaren Freiheit nicht viel anders ist, als mit dem geistigen Suchen nach der nie erreichbaren Wahrheit. Und wie nach Lessings gro\u00dfbescheidenem Wort f\u00fcr uns Menschen der Wahrheitstrieb zutr\u00e4glicher ist als die Wahrheit selbst, die nur f\u00fcr Gott, so darf man auch getrost dem lieben Gott den Besitz der Freiheit g\u00f6nnen und sich mit dem seelenadelnden Freiheitstriebe begn\u00fcgen. Ringet nach dem unbekannten Ziel, auch wenn ihr nie hoffen d\u00fcrft, es zu erjagen.\n\nHj\u00f6rdis und Sigurd sind die beiden sch\u00f6nsten, st\u00e4rksten und hehrsten Menschen ihrer Welt. Sie lieben sich, ohne da\u00df eins vom andern es wei\u00df. Die Konvention dr\u00e4ngt sich zwischen sie und bet\u00e4ubt die Stimme der Natur. Bei Sigurd vereinigt sich das altheidnische Gesetz der Blutsbr\u00fcderschaft mit der Opferwilligkeit des neuen Christen. Er leistet nicht blo\u00df zugunsten des Freundes auf die heimlich Geliebte schweigenden Verzicht, sondern bringt den Freund durch frommen Betrug sogar in Besitz des Weibes. So kommt sie zu einem ungeliebten Mann, und er nimmt eine gleichg\u00fcltige Frau. Aus dieser Verleugnung des nat\u00fcrlichen Gef\u00fchls quillt alles Unheil. Hj\u00f6rdis wird in ihrem ungestillten Liebesbed\u00fcrfnis, in ihrem Gl\u00fccksverfehlen vollends wild und grausam \u2013 Hedda Gablers menschenqu\u00e4lerische Grausamkeit ist hier vorgedeutet \u2013; und nicht blo\u00df den gesitteten Sigurd rei\u00dft Hj\u00f6rdis mit sich ins Verderben, sondern auch die ganze Sippe.\n\nIn der Gestalt des alten Wikings Oernulf, der ihr Pflegevater war und Sigurds Schw\u00e4her wurde, verk\u00f6rpert sich das zermalmende Schicksal, das, von einer schlimmen Tat erzeugt, auch schuldlose H\u00e4upter trifft. Um Hj\u00f6rdis' und Sigurds willen begr\u00e4bt er sieben junge S\u00f6hne. Aber das Schicksal mag noch so furchtbar eingreifen, es liegen auch in des Menschen Brust M\u00e4chte, die der Mensch beherrscht und die ihn ertragen lassen, was von au\u00dfen kommt. Wie Henrik Ibsen selbst oft zugestanden hat, da\u00df seine Kunst ihn vor der Verzweiflung sch\u00fctzte, so ist auch der alte Oernulf nicht blo\u00df ein Wiking, sondern auch ein Skalde. \u00bbMir gab ein Gott, zu sagen, wie ich leide\u00ab, ruft Goethes Tasso; und Ibsens Oernulf ruft, indem er selbst seinen S\u00f6hnen das Grablied weiht:\n\nIst f\u00fcr Oernulf _alles_  \nNun in Nacht versunken?  \nNein, es hat der S\u00e4nger  \nSuttungs Met getrunken!\n\nMeine S\u00f6hne sanken;  \nDoch mit Dichtermunde  \nGeb' von meinem Leide  \nLaut im Lied ich Kunde!\n\nLind auf meine Lippen  \nLegt' ein Gott mir T\u00f6ne \u2013  \nKling hinaus, o Klage,  \n\u00dcbers Grab der S\u00f6hne!\n\nUnd dieser greise Held und S\u00e4nger findet den Sinn des sp\u00e4ten Ibsenwortes vom Sterben in Sch\u00f6nheit voraus, indem er bei der Ermordung des letzten der S\u00f6hne, der ihm ward, die Frage stellt: \u00bbWo empfing er den Todesstreich?\u00ab \u2013 Quer \u00fcber der Stirn. \u2013 \u00bbHm, eine r\u00fchmliche Stelle\u00ab. So fragt Hedda Gabler nach Ejlert L\u00f6vborgs Selbstmord: \u00bbDurch die Brust?\u00ab \u2013 Ja, wie ich sage. \u2013 \u00bbAlso nicht durch die Schl\u00e4fe?\u00ab \u2013 Durch die Brust, Frau Tesman. \u2013 \u00bbJa, ja, \u2013 die Brust ist auch gut\u00ab.\n\nDie Entstehung des munteren und mutigen Bekenntnisdramas \u00bb _Kom\u00f6die der Liebe_ \u00ab f\u00e4llt in Ibsens Verlobungsjahr (1858); es wird in Prosa niedergeschrieben. Der Schatten der \u00bbKronpr\u00e4tendenten\u00ab tritt dazwischen. Im Sommer 1862 erst wird die \u00bbKom\u00f6die\u00ab wieder aufgenommen; nun empf\u00e4ngt sie Form, Farbe, Lebensinhalt. Die Sendung der Hj\u00f6rdis in der \u00bbNordischen Heerfahrt\u00ab nimmt Schwanhild auf: die Wegeweiserin eines zu gro\u00dfen Dingen berufenen Mannes zu sein. Stark im Geiste und Gef\u00fchl, Menschlichem vertraut, befreit sie in dem Freunde den Dichter: sie hat den Glauben an ihn, sie vindiziert ihm das Recht der Pers\u00f6nlichkeit: nur sich und seinem Werke zu leben. Die Worte, mit denen Falk die Liebste gr\u00fc\u00dft, h\u00e4tte Ibsen unmittelbar an seine junge tapfere Frau richten k\u00f6nnen:\n\n\u00bbEinsam steh' ich unter allen,  \nHab' keinen Freund, hab' Krieg mit jedermann;  \nGef\u00e4llten Speeres tritt der Ha\u00df mich an; \u2013  \nSie m\u00fc\u00dften mit mir stehn und mit mir fallen!  \nMein Wandern f\u00fchrt mich wider Schick und Brauch,  \nMein Platz ist mitten in der Feinde Zwinger; \u2013  \nDa deck' ich meinen Tisch, wie andre auch,  \nUnd steck' den Ring an meiner Liebsten Finger.\u00ab\n\nUnd Susanna Ibsen hat gewi\u00df f\u00fcr Schwanhilds gl\u00fchende Herzensergie\u00dfung eine tiefe Nachempfindung gehabt:\n\n\u00bbLeer war mein Herz, da du mit Siegerfahnen  \nUnd Liederjubel es erobern kamst,  \nBis da\u00df du, Herr auf allen seinen Bahnen,  \nWie Fr\u00fchlingsodem es gefangen nahmst...  \nWillst du den Weg der Wahrheit wallen,  \nSo will ich mit dir stehn und mit dir fallen.\u00ab\n\nDer Weg der Wahrheit aber ist ein Weg der Selbsterkenntnis. Schwanhild-Susanna h\u00e4lt ihrem Dichter den Spiegel vor; was er bisher geschaffen hat, war klein; nicht als \u00bbFalken\u00ab, der frei aufschwebt dem Wind entgegen, sah sie ihn, sondern als \u00bbPapierdrachen\u00ab, der fremder Hilfe bedarf, um fliegen zu k\u00f6nnen, \u2013 als zahmes Literatenwesen, das sich am eigenen Pathos berauscht und ewig Wechsel auf die Zukunft ausstellt. Die sch\u00f6ne Ermutigung:\n\n\u00bbVon heut' ab fliegen Sie aus eigner Kraft  \nUnd stellen sich auf Biegen oder Brechen.  \n_Papierne Dichtungen sind Pultbestand,  \nNur das Lebendige geh\u00f6rt dem Leben.\u00ab_\n\nFalk empf\u00e4ngt den \u00bbFreibrief\u00ab auf diese eigene Kraft, und f\u00fcr seinen Bund mit Schwanhild findet er das Wort vom \u00bbauserw\u00e4hlten Adelspaar\u00ab. Das sind Johannes Rosmers \u00bbfrohe Adelsmenschen\u00ab: in jenen Zeiten glaubte Ibsen noch an die F\u00e4higkeit der Menschenseele, sich adeln zu lassen, bis der Welt und seiner Tage Lauf \u00fcber ihn, genau wie \u00fcber den Pfarrer Rosmer, Zweifel und Resignation bringen. Jener sch\u00f6ne Glaube gab ihm damals das verst\u00e4rkende Wort:\n\n\u00bbEin Mann soll B\u00fcrger seiner Tage sein,  \nDoch auch zugleich ihr B\u00fcrgerleben adeln.\u00ab\n\nIn dem Punkt aber unterscheidet Ibsen sich vom Pfarrer Rosmer: der _Wille_ zur Menschenadelung, zur Erh\u00f6hung des B\u00fcrgerlebens, zur L\u00e4uterung des Volksbewu\u00dftseins hat ihn nie verlassen. Nur vier Jahre liegen zwischen dem ethischen Programm jener Verse und der Eingabe an K\u00f6nig Karl, worin er in erstarktem Selbstbewu\u00dftsein sein Lebenswerk bestimmt, das ihm \u00bbdas wichtigste und notwendigste erscheint f\u00fcr Norwegen\u00ab: \u00bbdas Volk wecken und es lehren, gro\u00df zu denken.\u00ab In diesem Kampfe hat Ibsen in der Tat \u00bbnie das Feld ger\u00e4umt\u00ab \u2013 mit seinen \u00bbIntentionen\u00ab wenigstens nicht.\n\nIndem Ibsen sich der Gegenwart zuwendet, sucht er sein eigenes Verh\u00e4ltnis zum Gesellschaftsleben, zu Lieb' und Liebestreu, zum Problem der Ehe dichterisch zu fassen. Er stellt die Frage: \u00bbkann die Liebe ein Eheleben \u00fcberdauern?\u00ab und verneint diese Frage. Der praktische und gewandte Weltmann zerst\u00f6rt einem Poeten seine Liebesschw\u00e4rmerei, aber durch eben diese Vernichtung er\u00f6ffnet er ihm den Weg zu neuen M\u00f6glichkeiten. Falk liebt Schwanhild, an der er ein st\u00e4rkeres Pers\u00f6nlichkeitsbewu\u00dftsein wahrnimmt, als ihm, dem Enthusiasten, beschieden ist. Unter Liebe aber versteht er nicht Ehefesseln, sondern einen Sommertraum. Sorglos und unbek\u00fcmmert, wie er bisher seine K\u00fcnstleraufgabe behandelt hat, behandelt er sein Leben. Rubeks \u00bbDichter\u00abegoismus leitet ihn (beim Bildhauer Lyngstrand ist es naive Dilettantenselbstsucht): er glaubt Opfer verlangen zu d\u00fcrfen, \u2013 und Episode nur soll Frauenhingebung sein. Schwanhild will ihm auf diesen Weg nicht folgen, \u2013 und in \u00fcberrumpelnder Gef\u00fchls\u00fcberschwenglichkeit kommt nun die Verlobung dieser sch\u00f6nen Seelen zustande. Schwanhild ergreift die Hand, die aus kleinen und kleinlichen Verh\u00e4ltnissen sie herausf\u00fchren soll in eine gr\u00f6\u00dfere und freiere Welt, zu Aufgaben, die das Leben lebenswert machen k\u00f6nnen. Auch sie stand einsam; sie war anders als das Philisterv\u00f6lkchen, unter dem sie lebte. Sie hatte ein Herz f\u00fcr die Kunst, aber \u2013 f\u00fcr die Malerei reichte das Talent nicht aus, und den Wunsch, Schauspielerin zu werden, machten ihr Familienr\u00fccksichten und landl\u00e4ufige Moral zunichte.\n\nGleichwohl bleibt diese Liebe ein Sommertraum. An Schwanhild wie an Falk vollzieht sich das \u00bbGesetz der Wandlung\u00ab. Schwanhild entsagt dem Schw\u00e4rmer und braucht sich doch keiner Spie\u00dfb\u00fcrgerehe zu opfern. Sie nimmt Ibsens hochschweifende Anschauung von der Liebe an: die Liebe ist ein viel zu edles Gut, um durch den Alltagstrott geschleift zu werden. Das Gl\u00fcck der Liebe ist ein sch\u00f6ner Augenblick, ein sanftes R\u00fcckerinnern: sie ist nicht geschaffen f\u00fcr die Gewohnheit; die Ehe andererseits ist nicht geschaffen f\u00fcr die Wahrheitssucher und Dichterschw\u00e4rmer, die Taten noch erst zu vollf\u00fchren haben.\n\nAber darum fallen doch keine Ideale. Zwischen beide tritt \u00bbmit den Gaben dieser Welt\u00ab ein Mann, der das Leben und die Menschen kennt. Der Kaufmann Goldstadt ist, obwohl Realmensch und praktischen Dingen zugewandt, weit weniger Egoist als der idealistische Brausekopf Falk: er bringt Schwanhild eine warme und ehrliche Zuneigung entgegen, aber er will sie nicht \u00fcberreden und durch die Lockung irdischer G\u00fcter beeinflussen. Er bietet ihr eine sichere Existenz gegen eine unsichere. Doch Schwanhild soll und mu\u00df \u00bbin Freiwilligkeit\u00ab kommen. Er stellt ihr die Wahl, wie Wangel seiner Meerfrau. In seiner Art vertritt jener Goldstadt ein Prinzip der G\u00fcte, der Opferwilligkeit, \u2013 hier sind Geistes- und Gef\u00fchlsm\u00e4chte, wie die g\u00e4rende Jugend Falks sie nicht kennt. W\u00e4hlt Schwanhild ihren Falk, so sollen beide ihm wie Kinder, sollen seine Erben sein. Was Goldstadt in Aussicht stellt, das ist keine Konvenienzehe, keine Vernunftehe, keine Kaufehe: es ist ein Bund gegenseitigen Verst\u00e4ndnisses und Einverst\u00e4ndnisses, der Wertsch\u00e4tzung und der Freiheit auf beiden Seiten. Schwanhild hat diesen Goldstadt f\u00fcr einen Spie\u00dfb\u00fcrger gehalten, und es enth\u00fcllt sich ihr ein Mensch. Die beredten Worte kl\u00e4ren ihr Gef\u00fchls- und Gedankenleben; sie zerst\u00f6ren ihren Traum nicht, sie wecken in ihr den Entschlu\u00df: zu einer h\u00f6heren Erf\u00fcllung dieses Traumes ihrerseits ein Opfer zu bringen. Dieses Opfer wird schmerzlich eingreifen in Falks Existenz, aber Falk ist der Mann, der die \u00bbGabe des Leids\u00ab braucht, um Dichter zu werden. Falk soll das Freiheitsleben gewinnen, das sie selbst ihm als Ziel aufgestellt hatte. Und Leid und Freiheit werden alle guten Kr\u00e4fte in ihm l\u00f6sen: Er soll dem Ruf in die Weite, zur H\u00f6he folgen. Zwei Jahre sp\u00e4ter folgte Ibsen dem gleichen Rufe, um in gr\u00f6\u00dferen Verh\u00e4ltnissen \u00bber selbst\u00ab zu werden.\n\nAm 30. April 1872 schreibt der Dichter seinem englischen Freunde Edmund Gosse: \u00bbDie \u203aKom\u00f6die der Liebe\u2039 ist eigentlich als ein Vorl\u00e4ufer des \u203aBrand\u2039 zu betrachten, weil ich n\u00e4mlich darin den in unseren sozialen Verh\u00e4ltnissen herrschenden Gegensatz zwischen der Wirklichkeit und der idealen Forderung in allem, was Liebe und Ehe betrifft, geschildert habe. Das Buch erregte, als es erschien, einen rasenden Sturm der Erbitterung in Norwegen.\u00ab Nur seine Frau billigte das Buch. Dieses Buch hat einen stark satirischen Inhalt. Es wirft so lustige wie scharfe und gerechte Streiflichter auf die Verlogenheit der Gesellschaft, auf den Verkehr der Geschlechter, auf die langen Verl\u00f6bnisse, auf den Handel, der mit dem erhabenen Begriff Liebe getrieben wird, auf alle die hohen und niederen Jochtr\u00e4ger der Ehe. Das Motiv der \u00bbLebensl\u00fcge\u00ab stimmt Ibsen mit jugendlicher Heftigkeit an. Falk spricht von der \u00bbMaskerade\u00ab, \u00bbder tragikomischen Hanswurstiade\u00ab, die diese b\u00fcrgerliche Menschheit mit sich selber auff\u00fchrt, diese \u00bbL\u00fcgner, die ihre eigenen Gl\u00e4ubigen sind\u00ab. Und die sp\u00e4teren Bilder von den \u00bbLeichen\u00ab und \u00fcbert\u00fcnchten Gr\u00e4bern erscheinen:\n\n\u00bbO Schwanhild, halten wir uns \u00fcber'm Schlamm,  \nDu Rosenstock auf w\u00fcstem Totenacker!  \nSo \u00bbleben\u00ab sie nun, die geplackten Placker!  \nNach Leichen riecht die Braut, der Br\u00e4utigam.  \nNach Leichen riecht's, wo zwei im Sonnenschein  \nAn dir vorbeigehn, L\u00e4cheln auf den Lippen,  \nDer L\u00fcge schw\u00fcles Kalkgrab im Gebein,  \nVerwesung hinter den gebrochenen Rippen,  \nDas hei\u00dfen sie dann _leben!\u00ab_\n\nAber auch der Schatten Gregers Werles schweift leise vorbei: Falk wird mit Nachdruck der \u00bbWahrheitswitterer\u00ab genannt.\n\nDurch Camilla Collett, die Schwester Wergelands und die Freundin Welhavens, war das Eheproblem in die \u00f6ffentliche Diskussion geworfen worden, und Frau Collett beginnt auch eine Rolle zu spielen in Ibsens dichterischer Arbeit. Ihr Roman \u00bbDie T\u00f6chter des Amtmanns\u00ab (1855) hat ohne Zweifel auf den Ideengehalt der \u00bbKom\u00f6die der Liebe\u00ab stark eingewirkt; das Teegleichnis gar ist vom Roman unmittelbar in die Kom\u00f6die hin\u00fcbergelangt. Frau Collett, die damals ihren Kampf f\u00fcr das Recht der Frau (zun\u00e4chst sehr sch\u00fcchtern) begann, er\u00f6rtert die Ehefrage als Sentimentalistin. Die Ehe kennt nur _eine_ Grundlage: das ist die Liebe. Das Herz soll w\u00e4hlen, auf beiden Seiten, nichts anderes. Sie verurteilt jede Ehe, die auf Konvenienz, auf Versorgung beruht; sie spricht den Eltern das Recht ab, der Liebeswahl ihrer Kinder vorzugreifen. Das junge M\u00e4dchen soll f\u00fcr das Leben, nicht f\u00fcr die Ehe erzogen werden. Camilla Colletts Buch hat eine unmittelbare sittliche Tendenz; es will Bresche legen in eine veraltete und verderbliche soziale Anschauungsweise. Ibsen geht \u00fcber die Anregungen dieses Romans weit hinaus; er ist einerseits radikaler (indem er in den N\u00e4hten das pr\u00fcft, was \u00bbLiebe\u00ab hei\u00dft), andererseits idealistischer, indem er seine \u00fcberzarten, \u00fcberfeinen, fast abstrakten Vorstellungen von Liebe als Einsatz gibt; vor allem aber verf\u00e4hrt er in der Darstellung dieser Dinge nicht als Tendenzler, sondern als K\u00fcnstler: er will Menschen schildern, lebendige Psychologie treiben.\n\nCamilla Collett und ihr Schaffen haben fortan ihre Einwirkung auf Ibsen nicht verloren. Die Dichterdenkerin, die eine intime Freundin Frau Susannas gewesen ist, steht sozusagen an Noras Wiege: mit ihrer stetig wirksameren Lehre von der Gleichstellung der Frau. Sie wird auch unmittelbar Modell in der \u00bbFrau vom Meere\u00ab; hier spielt ihr Verh\u00e4ltnis zu Welhaven (der \u00bbfremde Mann\u00ab) sichtbar herein. \u00dcbrigens wird auch dem Motiv der ins Meer geworfenen Ringe schon in der \u00bbKom\u00f6die der Liebe\u00ab eine gewisse Rolle einger\u00e4umt. Schwanhild schleudert beim Abschied von Falk ihren Verlobungsring in den Fjord. Hier trennt symbolistisch das Meer, w\u00e4hrend es in der \u00bbFrau vom Meere\u00ab binden soll.\n\nNachdem er die \u00bbKom\u00f6die der Liebe\u00ab vollendet hatte, nimmt Ibsen den Stoff der \u00bb _Kronpr\u00e4tendenten_ \u00ab, der aus seiner intensiven Besch\u00e4ftigung mit der Sagazeit (1858) stammte, im Sommer 1863 wieder auf. Er schrieb das Drama, das vor seiner Seele fertig stand, in knappen acht Wochen nieder; im September ging das Manuskript in die Druckerei, und im Oktober kam das Buch heraus.\n\n\u00dcber die Elemente seines \u00e4u\u00dferen und inneren Lebens, die gebietend zu dieser Dichtung hindr\u00e4ngten, unterrichtet die Einleitung (S. XXIV). Durch dieses dramatische Gedicht hallt ein Schrei der Verzweiflung; \u2013 ruft Skule, vom Bischof Nikolas, seiner b\u00f6sen Vorsehung, bis aufs Herzblut gefoltert, das Schicksal an: \u00bbweshalb setzten sie mich in die Welt, wenn sie f\u00fcr mich kein besseres Los bereit hatten?\u00ab \u2013 so war das Ibsens eigener seelischer Protest: \u00bbHat man es so schlecht mit mir gemeint, mich in diese Welt zu setzen, und mich zu dem gemacht, der ich bin, so mu\u00df es eben seinen Lauf haben.\u00ab (Briefstelle.) Auf solchem Stimmungsgipfel entstanden Ibsens \u00bbKronpr\u00e4tendenten\u00ab, dieses Wendedrama seiner Entwicklung. Ibsen f\u00fchlt sich als das \u00bbStiefkind Gottes auf Erden\u00ab; aber er hat zugleich auch die \u00bbWehrhaftigkeit des Willens\u00ab, sich zum Gl\u00fcck durchzuk\u00e4mpfen. Und wenn andere ihm und er sich selbst entgegenhalten: da\u00df er \u00bbein K\u00f6nigsarm\u00ab, \u00bballenfalls ein K\u00f6nigshaupt\u00ab, nimmermehr \u00bbaber der ganze K\u00f6nig sei\u00ab, so geh\u00f6rt er doch nicht zu den \u00bbungesunden Zweiflern\u00ab, die an ihrem eigenen Zweifel zweifeln: sondern sein Zweifel ist wie eine heilsame Selbstbestrafung, die alles Wanken und Schwanken in der Erf\u00fcllung der Lebensaufgabe beseitigen soll, ein von ihm selbst bef\u00f6rderter G\u00e4rungsproze\u00df, in dem seine Genialit\u00e4t frei werden sollte. Durch Taten schlichtet er den Kampf in der eigenen Brust. Zun\u00e4chst aber versenkt Ibsen sich tief in die Tragik gl\u00fcckloser Zweifelsucht. Von allen Gestalten des Dramas ist der Herzog Skule die ergreifendste. Auf dem Hintergrunde dieser Gestalt erst gewinnt H\u00e5kon, dieser geborene Sohn des Gl\u00fccks, der seine K\u00f6nigsaufgabe wie im Spiel \u00fcberwindet, Licht; und auch der Bischof Niko- las, dieser gr\u00f6\u00dfte aller menschlichen D\u00e4monen, die die Geschichte der dramatischen Dichtung kennt, ist wiederum nichts anderes als der Schatten, den Skules Erscheinung auf die eigene unheilschwere Lebenslaufbahn wirft.\n\nDie Bezeichnung \u00bbKronpr\u00e4tendenten\u00ab deckt sich nicht mit der erleuchtenden Symbolik des Originaltitels \u00bbKongsemnerne\u00ab. \u00bbEmne\u00ab \u2013 das ist \u00bbUrstoff\u00ab, \u00bbMaterie\u00ab \u2013 das Wort bedeutet soviel wie das Holz, aus dem K\u00f6nige geschnitzt werden. \u00bbPr\u00e4tendent\u00ab ist Gew\u00e4chs einer weit sp\u00e4teren Dynastenzeit. Aus den deutschen Ausgaben ist der Begriff \u00bbPr\u00e4tendent\u00ab in englische, franz\u00f6sische, italienische, slavische Texte \u00fcbergegangen. An diesem Zeichen wird das St\u00fcck in Europa erkannt, und so lie\u00dfen wir aus N\u00fctzlichkeitsgr\u00fcnden dieses einmal eingef\u00fchrte Zeichen. Es gibt im Deutschen keinen konzisen Ausdruck f\u00fcr die sachliche Bedeutung des Wortes, und \u00bbThronbewerber\u00ab, \u00bbThronforderer\u00ab sind so gut Notbehelfe wie der kritisch angefochtene \u00bbPr\u00e4tendent\u00ab.\n\nUm ein Reich ringen Skule und H\u00e5kon. Skule ist mit zwei anderen Mitbewerbern zun\u00e4chst unterlegen. H\u00e5kon hat durch Gottesurteil vor der Welt erh\u00e4rtet, da\u00df er allein vom wahren K\u00f6nigsstoffe sei. Er w\u00e4hnt ein kluger Politiker zu sein, indem er sich das unterlegene Haus Skule n\u00e4her verbindet und es dadurch unsch\u00e4dlich macht: er nimmt des Herzogs Tochter Margrete zur Frau und l\u00e4\u00dft den alten Reichsverweser Skule als Siegelbewahrer im Besitz seiner eigentlichen Machtbefugnisse, so da\u00df Skule trotz seiner Niederlage sehr wohl einem Hochgef\u00fchl Luft machen kann: der K\u00f6nig herrscht, aber er regiert nicht. Damit hat H\u00e5kon unbewu\u00dft kriegerischen M\u00f6glichkeiten vorgearbeitet.\n\nSkule mi\u00dfbraucht seine Macht in kleinen Dingen; aber auch der gr\u00f6\u00dfere Konflikt l\u00e4\u00dft nicht lange auf sich warten. Wie der Bischof Nikolas, in b\u00f6ser Verfolgung eines gro\u00dfen, sowohl gegen H\u00e5kon wie gegen Skule gerichteten Plans, H\u00e5kon zu jenem scheinbar staatsklugen, in Wirklichkeit aber verh\u00e4ngnisvollen Vergleich mit Skule geraten hat, so f\u00fchrt er jetzt in der f\u00fcr b\u00f6se Saat reif gewordenen Seele Skules den Gegendruck herbei. \u00dcberdies liegt Hader in der Luft; die Mannen des K\u00f6nigs und des Herzogs k\u00f6nnen sich nicht vertragen, haben sich nie vertragen k\u00f6nnen, denn zu tief schon hat der Ha\u00df gefressen. Also Nikolas handelt, \u2013 was er unter Handeln versteht. Er fl\u00f6\u00dft Skule das Gift des Zweifels ein. Wie nun, wenn das Gottesurteil gelogen h\u00e4tte, \u2013 wenn nun H\u00e5kon kein echter K\u00f6nigsspro\u00df, nicht der Nachkomme Sverres w\u00e4re? So sicher steht das gar nicht fest. Er, Nikolas, hat bisher geschwiegen, aber jetzt, da er in Skules leidendes Gem\u00fct blickt, will er reden. Er selbst hat einst Befehl gegeben, den kaum geborenen K\u00f6nigssohn gegen ein Bauernkind in der Wiege einzutauschen. Ob der Befehl ausgef\u00fchrt worden ist, das kann keiner wissen, \u2013 oder h\u00f6chstens einer: ein Pfarrer namens Trond, dem das Kind zur Pflege \u00fcbergeben worden war, \u2013 und der ist au\u00dfer Landes gegangen. Die Flucht des Pfarrers lie\u00dfe sich aus zwei Gr\u00fcnden erkl\u00e4ren: er hat die Rache des Bischofs gef\u00fcrchtet, weil er seinem Wort _nicht_ gehorcht hatte, \u2013 oder die Rache der andern, _weil_ er ihm gehorcht hatte. Aber die Wahrheit kann in dieser Sache noch an den Tag kommen. Denn vor seinem Tode hat Trond eine Beichte niedergeschrieben, und dieses Schriftst\u00fcck, das nach Norwegen unterwegs ist, mu\u00df entscheidend sein.\n\nDas Gift hat eine unmittelbare Wirkung. Die versucherische Enth\u00fcllung des Bischofs weckt in Skule Trotz und Widerstandsgel\u00fcste. Er begegnet dem K\u00f6nig, der ihn wegen eigenm\u00e4chtiger Handlungen zur Rede stellen will, vor allem Volke mit Selbst\u00fcberhebung und Eigenwilligkeit und weigert sich hartn\u00e4ckig, den M\u00f6rder eines K\u00f6nigsmannen zu bestrafen, wie H\u00e5kon verlangt. H\u00e5kon nimmt dem Herzog das Siegel ab. Wird der Herzog, im Wahn, da\u00df sich f\u00fcr ihn eine g\u00fcnstige Wendung der Dinge vorbereite, diese Erniedrigung einfach hinnehmen? Wird er dem Kassandraruf der eigenen Schwester gehorchen oder des Bischofs Nikolas diabolisch hinhaltender Politik? Das Trugbild der Macht malt der Bischof sch\u00e4rfer und feuriger den verblendeten Sinnen des Herzogs. Er reizt ihn zu Ausbr\u00fcchen wilder Herrschbegierde und zu Worten des Verbrechens.\n\nDem Wort folgt die verbrecherische Tat. Bischof Nikolas l\u00e4\u00dft seinen Mann nicht aus dem Auge; er hat ihm durch Schwur verhei\u00dfen, ihm Tronds Beichtdokument auszuliefern in dem Augenblick, da er es erhalten werde. Skule solle inzwischen nichts unternehmen, sondern sich sozusagen auf einen passiven Widerstand beschr\u00e4nken ... Das Schriftst\u00fcck l\u00e4\u00dft Jahr um Jahr auf sich warten, und erst in des hinsiechenden Bischofs Sterbestunde trifft es ein. In der Seele des b\u00f6sen Alten ist nun der Kampf: \u00fcbergibt er den Brief nicht, so hat er den Eid gebrochen, und er hat Gottes Angesicht zu f\u00fcrchten; \u00fcbergibt er ihn, so kann er sein d\u00e4monisches Werk nicht vollenden, das er aus Freude am B\u00f6sen ersonnen hat. Er verf\u00e4llt auf den Ausweg, dem Herzog den Brief in die Hand zu geben unter dem Vorwand, dies sei das Verzeichnis seiner Feinde, und ihn mit der Miene der Vers\u00f6hnlichkeit zu bitten, er m\u00f6ge das Papier verbrennen. So hat der sterbende Satanssohn seinen Eid erf\u00fcllt, und der Herzog wei\u00df nach wie vor nicht, woran er ist. So lange ja nur w\u00e4re Skule H\u00e5kons Gegner, als H\u00e5kons Recht auf den Thron sich nicht beweisen lie\u00dfe. Aber Frieden will der schlimme Gottesmann nicht haben; er will Zwietracht; er will nicht, da\u00df _ein_ K\u00f6nig in Norwegen sei, da\u00df ein einziger die andern \u00fcberrage.\n\nWie l\u00e4\u00dft sich Tun und Denken dieses B\u00f6sewichts, in dem Ibsen norwegische Nationalfehler, seinem \u00bbPeer Gynt\u00ab vorauseilend, symbolisieren wollte, menschlich erkl\u00e4ren? Nikolas ist selbst eine Art heimlicher Thronforderer. Er hatte den Willen zur Gr\u00f6\u00dfe, aber die Natur hat ihn entmannt. Statt Gro\u00dfes durchzusetzen, war er dazu verdammt, es zu verhindern. Er hatte nur Begierden, nicht das Verm\u00f6gen, nicht Erf\u00fcllungsm\u00f6glichkeiten. Wie H\u00e5kon, wie Skule war er aus m\u00e4chtigem Geschlecht hervorgegangen, war er durch seine Geburt schon zu wichtigen Dingen bestimmt. Tatendurst f\u00fcllte seine Seele; er strebt nach K\u00f6nigsruhm, nach der K\u00f6nigskrone: aber in der ersten Feldschlacht macht ihn seine nat\u00fcrliche Ohnmacht zum Feigling und Ausrei\u00dfer. Er wirbt um Weibesliebe, doch der H\u00e4mmling spottet nur seiner selbst und wird von anderen verspottet. So setzt sich Ha\u00df in seiner Seele fest: Ha\u00df gegen die kraftvoll Herrschenden oder doch kraftvoll um die Krone Ringenden; Ha\u00df gegen die, die mit gesunden Sinnen genie\u00dfen k\u00f6nnen. Nur negativ kann er wirken \u2013 die einzige k\u00fchne Tat, die er vollbringen, durch die er in Norwegen regieren und unsterblich werden k\u00f6nnte: er wird die Seelen H\u00e5kons und Skules zu einem perpetuum mobile machen \u2013 in ihnen \u00bbR\u00e4der und Gewichte und Hebel derart in Gang setzen, da\u00df keine Macht der Erde sie zu hemmen vermag\u00ab, \u2013 \u00bbbeide sollen zugleich zweifeln und glauben, auf und nieder schwanken, niemals festen Grund unter dem Fu\u00df bekommen.\u00ab Und diese Tat gelingt dem schlimmen Priester in seiner letzten Stunde.\n\nDer Nachweis daf\u00fcr, da\u00df H\u00e5kon nicht als K\u00f6nig geboren sei, ist Skule nunmehr f\u00fcr immer abgeschnitten. Daf\u00fcr aber empf\u00e4ngt er die untr\u00fcgliche Bekr\u00e4ftigung, da\u00df H\u00e5kon der geborene K\u00f6nig sei. Zun\u00e4chst feilscht er, in heftigem seelischem Aufruhr, mit H\u00e5kon um Landbesitz und Machtbereich. H\u00e5kon belehrt ihn aber, da\u00df eine kleine und kleinliche Auffassung vom Herrscherberuf ihn leite, \u2013 und dann enth\u00fcllt er ihm, ausholend zu schwerem moralischen Schlage, seinen eigenen K\u00f6nigsgedanken, den Sammlungsgedanken; nicht Zwietracht soll herrschen, sondern Eintracht unter Norwegens St\u00e4mmen. \u00bbNorwegen war ein Reich, es soll ein Volk werden\u00ab: \u00bbDas ist die Aufgabe, die Gott auf meine Schultern gelegt hat; das ist das Werk, das Norwegens K\u00f6nig jetzt vollbringen mu\u00df. Das Werk, Herzog, das lasset Ihr, denk' ich, einem andern \u2013 denn wahrlich, dazu habt Ihr nicht die Eignung.\u00ab\n\nHier tritt der tragische Wendepunkt in Skules Leben ein. Weil Hoffahrt und Eitelkeit ihm verbieten, vor dem Mysterium solcher K\u00f6nigsberufung sich zu beugen (gegen die Stimme seines besseren Selbst), weil er, der zum Dienen bestimmt ist, aus Selbstsucht herrschen will, mu\u00df er untergehen. Hinzu kommt schwere Seelenschuld: er wird zum Verbrecher an H\u00e5kons K\u00f6nigsgedanken: er konnte diesen Gedanken nicht finden, er konnte ihn nicht f\u00f6rdern, \u2013 aber er kann ihn stehlen.\n\nDen K\u00f6nigsnamen hat er angenommen, den K\u00f6nigsreif aufgesetzt, \u2013 erste Siege scheinen ihm recht zu geben. Was ihm aber fehlt, ist die innere \u00dcberzeugtheit von dem Rechte seiner Sendung. Er f\u00e4ngt an, zu sinnieren und zu spekulieren und unt\u00e4tig zu sein, \u00fcberw\u00e4ltigt vom Gespenste seines Innern, von hamletischer Schwermut. Er ist nicht imstande, \u00bballe Br\u00fccken abzubrechen\u00ab, bis auf eine, \u2013 und die \u00bb _eine_ zu behalten und allein zu verteidigen und _da_ zu siegen oder zu fallen\u00ab. Diese nicht abgebrochenen Br\u00fccken hat er f\u00fcr seine eigenen Feinde offen gelassen, f\u00fcr seinen Gegenk\u00f6nig H\u00e5kon, der voll gl\u00fccklicher Zuversicht den Sieg erwartet, obwohl er Niederlagen erleidet, und der auch den Sieg gewinnt. Wie Schillers Wallenstein \u00fcber den Sternen sein Kriegsgl\u00fcck vers\u00e4umt, so hat auch Skule eine Art Sterndeuter an seiner Seite: Jatgejr, den Skalden, dem er in n\u00e4chtlicher Stille, unter der Maske der Gelassenheit, seine tiefbewegte Seele erschlie\u00dft, um des Skalden Seele daf\u00fcr zu gewinnen: denn er braucht einen _Menschen_ in dem Kampf, der noch bevorsteht. Wir wissen, da\u00df Ibsen diesen Jatgejr aus Teilen seines eigenen Wesens gebildet hat, auch wenn er es Bj\u00f6rnson (16. Sept. 1864) nicht gebeichtet h\u00e4tte: \u00bbIch habe etwas von dem Skalden in den \u00bbKronpr\u00e4tendenten\u00ab an mir: ich bringe es nie recht \u00fcber mich, ganz mich zu entkleiden. Ich habe die Empfindung, da\u00df mir in den pers\u00f6nlichen Beziehungen nur ein falscher Ausdruck f\u00fcr das zu Gebote steht, was ich im tiefsten Innern trage und was eigentlich mein Ich ist. Deshalb ziehe ich vor, es zu verschlie\u00dfen.\u00ab Dieser Skalde ist durch Leiden zum Liede gekommen; dieser Skalde kann nur dem eigenen, nicht dem Lebenswerke eines andern dienen; dieser Skalde hat sich von allem losgemacht, was Lebensgl\u00fcck und Lebensfreude hei\u00dft. Auch dieser Skalde dichtet in Nacht und n\u00e4chtlichen Stimmungen und h\u00e4lt die \u00bbungeborenen Lieder\u00ab, die nicht aufgezeichneten f\u00fcr die besten, wie Ulrik Brendel, wie Alfred Allmers das \u00bbplatte Schreiberhandwerk\u00ab gering sch\u00e4tzen.\n\nSkule meint, in Jatgejr den Mann zu haben, der an ihn _glaubt_ , ihm den Glauben gibt, den er selbst nicht hat: aber der K\u00f6nig irrt sich darin: Jatgejr kann wohl f\u00fcr ihn fallen, aber nicht f\u00fcr seine Sache leben. Und tiefer greift das Schicksal ein; es l\u00e4\u00dft Skule den finden, den seine Seele sucht \u2013 ein gl\u00e4ubiges Wesen. Ein Sohn, einst in S\u00fcnde gezeugt, wird ihm zugef\u00fchrt. Um Herz, Willen und Kraft dieses reinen Toren ganz f\u00fcr sich zu gewinnen, schildert er dem J\u00fcngling H\u00e5kons K\u00f6nigsgedanken als seinen eigenen. Und f\u00fcr diesen K\u00f6nigsgedanken gelobt der begeisterte Knabe zu siegen oder zu fallen. Mit der L\u00fcge ist Skule auf wankenden Grund getreten, und nun arbeitet alles auf seinen Untergang zu. Von H\u00e5kon schwer bedr\u00e4ngt, hetzt er seine Mannen in die Ermordung seines Enkelsohnes hinein, des K\u00f6nigskindes, und da richtet ihn H\u00e5kon und schw\u00f6rt ihm den Tod. Seinen eigenen Sohn aber macht Skule durch die L\u00fcge zum Tempelsch\u00e4nder, zum Kirchenr\u00e4uber, und der abergl\u00e4ubische Schrecken \u00fcber die mystische Vergehung entfremdet ihm die letzten Getreuen seiner Gefolgschaft.\n\nGeschlagen, verlassen, vogelfrei mu\u00df Skule, als M\u00f6nch verkleidet, Unterschlupf suchen im Kloster Elges\u00e4ter. Dort findet er die Frauen seines Hauses. Die hohen, g\u00fctigen Frauen, die er verkannt hat: sie h\u00e4tten ihn zu allem Guten f\u00fchren k\u00f6nnen, w\u00e4re er ihrer Liebe und nicht seinem b\u00f6sen D\u00e4mon gefolgt. Kurz vorher war der Versucher noch einmal an ihn herangetreten in der geisternden Gestalt des Bischofs Nikolas, und da schon hatte es in seiner d\u00fcstern Seele zu tagen begonnen: da\u00df er und sein durch L\u00fcge und Kirchenraub entweihter Sohn Peter Werkzeuge nicht der Vorsehung, sondern der H\u00f6lle h\u00e4tten werden sollen. Darin und im reinigenden Element der Fraueng\u00fcte liegt f\u00fcr Skule die \u00bbKraft der Wandlung\u00ab. Er erhebt sich sittlich \u00fcber seine eigenen Taten. Er bekennt (bekennt wie Bernick und wie Rubek) vor seinem jungen Sohne, da\u00df er seine Macht angema\u00dft, da\u00df er den Inbegriff dessen, was er seine Sendung nannte, einem andern entwendet habe. Im L\u00e4uterungsfeuer des Leides ist er er selbst geworden. Er kann f\u00fcr H\u00e5kons K\u00f6nigsgedanken nicht leben, aber er kann f\u00fcr ihn sterben. Um H\u00e5kon nicht in die ungeheuerliche Notwendigkeit zu versetzen, seinem Eid gem\u00e4\u00df den Vater seiner eigenen Frau hinrichten zu lassen, geht Skule an der Hand Peters freiwillig in den Tod; sie liefern sich der Wut der St\u00e4dter aus, \u2013 und dieselben St\u00e4dter, die Skule einst zugejubelt haben, machen ihn nieder, ihn und sein Kind. So tritt Skule aus H\u00e5kons Sonne: er rettet ihm den K\u00f6nigsgedanken und seine reine Erf\u00fcllung.\n\nDem unverzagt Wollenden, allzeit der inneren Stimme Gehorsamen \u2013 so hatten die \u00bbKronpr\u00e4tendenten\u00ab verk\u00fcndet \u2013 mu\u00df das Reich und die Kraft und die Herrlichkeit werden. Zu einer ganz anderen Ansicht, nicht vom Wert, wohl aber vom Erfolg idealen Strebens f\u00fchrte nun furchtlose Weltbetrachtung. Sei unbeugsam der du sein mu\u00dft, sei ein Held des Willens zum Ideale, und du bist verloren. \u00bbBrand\u00ab (geschrieben zu Arricia im Sommer 1865, erschienen am 15. M\u00e4rz 1866) ist die Trag\u00f6die des Idealismus (s.o. S. XXIX). Darum h\u00e4tte der Dichter auch, wie er selbst es ausspricht, ebensogut, wie einen Pfarrer, einen Bildhauer oder Politiker w\u00e4hlen und ganz dieselbe logische Schlu\u00dffolgerung durchf\u00fchren k\u00f6nnen. Nur da\u00df er auf religi\u00f6sem Gebiete, in bezug auf etwas, was den Menschen \u00fcber alles geht, seinen Idealisten eher durfte \u00fcber alle Grenzen gehen lassen, ohne \u00c4rgernis zu erregen oder an Teilnahme einzub\u00fc\u00dfen. Gleichwohl dient das Religi\u00f6se nur zum Pr\u00fcfstein, an dem das Gold des echten Willens bew\u00e4hrt wird, und die ganze Fabel ist und bleibt ein Gleichnis \u2013 symbolisch.\n\nDen religi\u00f6s-kirchlichen Stoff hat das Leben dargeboten. In Ibsens Vaterstadt Skien trat gegen Ende der f\u00fcnfziger Jahre des vorigen Jahrhunderts der Pastor Gustav Adolf Lammers aus der Staatskirche, weil er in seinem Gewissen an manchen Glaubenslehren und geistlichen Verrichtungen Ansto\u00df nahm. Der redliche Eiferer, obwohl ohne Verm\u00f6gen und Vater unversorgter Kinder, gab nicht nur Lebensstellung und Einkommen auf, er opferte alsbald auch sein Ruhegehalt durch die Gr\u00fcndung einer \u00bbfreien apostolischen Gemeinde\u00ab. Dieser k\u00fchne und willensstarke Mann, dem seine Strenge Feindschaft und wiederum Vertrauen, seine nimmerm\u00fcde F\u00fcrsorge Hohn und wiederum Hingabe eintrug, ist das Urbild Brands gewesen im Tun und im Lassen. Schon ihm wurde, wie Brand, die Kirche zu klein. Ein \u00bbFreiluftagitator\u00ab, wanderte er mit seinen Anh\u00e4ngern hinaus ins Feld oder auf die H\u00f6hen, um dort Gottesdienst zu halten. Wir kennen auch, wie den Geistlichen, so den Pfarrhof in \u00f6der Gebirgseinsamkeit, bei Hellesylt, der des Dichters Phantasie vorschwebte, und wissen, da\u00df der Schauplatz dem engen Fortundal nachgebildet wurde mit den schroffen, kahlen Felsw\u00e4nden und lawinendrohenden Gletschern in der H\u00f6he und dem oft sturmgepeitschten Fjord in der Tiefe.\n\nUrspr\u00fcnglich war \u00bbBrand\u00ab als epische Dichtung geplant, und auch jetzt noch, in der freien dramatischen Form, die gleich dem Faust f\u00fcr eine ideale B\u00fchne gedacht, mehr zum Lesen bestimmt ist, wird der Rahmen, Szenerie und szenischer Vorgang, poetisch miteinbezogen. Ganz im Epischen zu verweilen, verhinderte das Bed\u00fcrfnis nach dem unmittelbar lebendigen, weckenden Wort, und andrerseits der strengeren b\u00fchnengem\u00e4\u00dfen Form widerstrebte der Stoff und die Stimmung des neu befreiten Dichters. In nicht ganz drei Monaten, dank der Ungeduld der \u00bbfreiwilligen t\u00e4tigen Natur\u00ab, ist das gro\u00dfe Werk gelungen: einer der gl\u00fccklichsten Versuche der Weltliteratur, Realismus und Idealismus zu verm\u00e4hlen durch die alles bezwingende Macht eines stets aus seinen Tiefen hervorwirkenden Gem\u00fctes. So eignet der Sprache bald h\u00f6chster Schwung und edelste Sch\u00f6nheit, bald wieder senkt sie sich st\u00e4ten Fluges zum schlichten allt\u00e4glichen Ausdruck herab. Als Realist vermeidet Ibsen weder die Anrede \u00bbSie\u00ab, noch die Erw\u00e4hnung des Dampfschiffes u. dgl. Ja, mitgeadelt und mitverkl\u00e4rt in alles erhebender Harmonie, gibt gerade das Werkt\u00e4glich-Lebenswahre dem Gedicht eine Kraft und Dauer der Wirkung, vor der Dichtungen mit gleichm\u00e4\u00dfig gesteigerter Darstellungsweise, mit durchaus bewahrter \u00bbPoesie\u00ab des Inhalts und der Sprache, wie etwa Byrons' Manfred, schemenartig verblassen. Nicht klassizistisch typisierend, \u2013 modern charakterisierend ist auch die Seelenschilderung, die uns \u00bbgepr\u00e4gte Form\u00ab zeigt, aber zugleich erkennen l\u00e4\u00dft, wie sie lebend sich entwickelt hat. Der starke Wille, f\u00e4hig und bereit, sich alles zu versagen: von der geizigen Mutter, von dem erwerbgierigen Vater ist er Brand als Erbe zugefallen. Doch in ihm richtet sich nun die gleichsam aufgespeicherte \u00dcberf\u00fclle von Energie wieder auf ein edles Ziel, auf das Heil der Gesamtheit. Denn mit dem starken Willen paart sich das gleich starke Gef\u00fchl, das die Mutter einst besa\u00df, aber f\u00fcr immer unterdr\u00fcckte, als sie den geliebten K\u00e4tnersohn aufgab f\u00fcr den wohlhabenden Freier. So ist Brand, nach freudlos und freundlos verlebter Kindheit, durch eigne Erziehung ein unbeugsamer Charakter geworden, selbst fertig, darum hart im Urteil, streng im Fordern, ohne Kenntnis menschlicher Bed\u00fcrftigkeit, ohne Verst\u00e4ndnis menschlicher Schw\u00e4che.\n\nAuf lebensgef\u00e4hrlicher Wanderung \u00fcber die Schneefelder des Hochgebirges tritt uns der Unverzagte, der Mann des Berufes, zuerst entgegen. Sein F\u00fchrer, ein Bauer, will umkehren, ob ihn schon die Pflicht zur sterbenden Tochter riefe, will Brand zur Umkehr zwingen. Der wirft ihn in den Schnee und schreitet f\u00fcrba\u00df. Da zerteilt die Sonne den dichten Nebel, und ein fr\u00f6hlich sich haschendes Liebespaar weckt den Wanderer aus seinem Sinnen \u00fcber die willenlose Schlaffheit des Menschen. Ihm vor Augen tanzen und singen die Gl\u00fccklich-Sorglosen so dicht am Abgrund hin, da\u00df sie mit knapper Not sein Zuruf noch rettet. Schon will er sich von diesen leichtlebigen, redseligen Kindern der Freude mit kurzem Gru\u00df entfernen, als Ejnar, der Maler, einen Schulgenossen in ihm erkennt und Red' und Antwort fordert. So wird nun von den Lebensverh\u00e4ltnissen Ausreichendes kundgetan, die Handelnden als wirkliche Menschen der Gegenwart zu beglaubigen, nirgend aber so viel, da\u00df die gro\u00dfen symbolischen Umri\u00dflinien gest\u00f6rt w\u00fcrden. Und die l\u00e4ssige Art, wie Ejnar den g\u00fctigen Gott im Munde f\u00fchrt, reizt Brand, aus seiner Zur\u00fcckhaltung zu treten, und erhebt das Gespr\u00e4ch alsbald zu den Hauptfragen der Dichtung. Wohin Brand eile? Zu einem Begr\u00e4bnis. Jenen ewig milden und nachsichtigen Familiengott der Weltchristen ins Grab zu legen, unter dem es sich so bequem lebt, das ist sein Ziel und seine Aufgabe. An j\u00e4mmerlicher Halbheit krankt das ganze Geschlecht, zu schwach zum Guten und nicht stark genug zum B\u00f6sen. Hier anzugreifen mit liebendem Ha\u00df, aus diesen Seelenst\u00fcmpfen, diesen H\u00e4uptern, diesen H\u00e4nden abermals einen Mann erstehen zu lassen, wie der Herr ihn einst gedacht und geschaffen: dazu f\u00fchlt er in sich Mut und Kraft. Er schaut seinen Gott im eignen Bild und Gleichnis: einherbrausend wie der Sturm, jung wie Herkules, in Feuerflammen gewaltig, wie er vor Moses stand auf Horebs Berg und die Sonne hemmte in Gibeons Tal. Brand ist eine urgermanische Gestalt, verwandt den alten Sachsenrecken, denen der Dichter des Heliand den christlichen Erl\u00f6ser umschaffen mu\u00dfte zum Erl\u00f6serhelden.\n\nIn dreifacher Form stellt sich ihm auf der Gebirgswanderung das Feindliche, Sch\u00e4dliche in den Weg: als Schlaffsinn, als Leichtsinn und nun noch als Wahnsinn. Das Zigeunerm\u00e4dchen Gerd l\u00e4uft ihm entgegen, die unabl\u00e4ssig Steine schleudert nach einem unsichtbaren Habicht, von dem sie sich verfolgt w\u00e4hnt. Doch gewinnt die befremdende Gestalt erst sp\u00e4ter Bedeutung f\u00fcr uns, wenn sie f\u00fcr Brand Bedeutung gewinnt als das lebendige Zeichen einer zu s\u00fchnenden Schuld \u2013 als die Tochter jenes J\u00fcnglings, den seine Mutter einst verschm\u00e4ht hat und in ein z\u00fcgelloses Leben mit den Zigeunern getrieben. Nun steigt Brand zu Tal, entschlossen, diese dem rechten Wollen feindliche \u00bbTripelallianz\u00ab zu bek\u00e4mpfen.\n\nHungersnot herrscht auf der sonnenlosen St\u00e4tte seiner Kindheit, er findet im Dorf die Menge vor der Kirche versammelt, karge Spenden aus Staatsmitteln entgegenzunehmen. Ejnar und seine Braut Agnes verteilen ihr Letztes; er aber verweigert jegliche Hilfe. Der Herr soll mit seiner Zuchtrute den schwachen Willen aufpeitschen, da\u00df sich die Stumpfgewordenen endlich ermannen. Schon erheben sich drohende H\u00e4nde gegen ihn, da zeigt den Emp\u00f6rten die k\u00fchnste Tat sein hilfsbereites Herz und echte Mannesart. Von jenseits des st\u00fcrmischen Fjords verlangt ein Ungl\u00fcckseliger, der in Verzweiflung sein hungerndes Kind get\u00f6tet hat, priesterlichen Zuspruch. Brand l\u00f6st ohne Zaudern das Boot. Wer will Sch\u00f6pfkelle und Segel handhaben, w\u00e4hrend er steuert? Die M\u00e4nner versagen; nur ein Weib ist opferbereit: Agnes. Dem flehenden Br\u00e4utigam ruft sie zur\u00fcck: \u00bbHier sind drei an Bord.\u00ab Schon ist ihre Seele gel\u00f6st von Ejnar und wendet sich auf dieser gl\u00fccklich verlaufenden Todesfahrt einem andern heilig-ernsten Leben zu.\n\nDie Gemeinde erbittet Brand zu ihrem Priester. Ihn aber verlangt nach Rittertaten des Geistes auf gr\u00f6\u00dferem Schauplatz. Ob ihm auch Agnes die innere Stimme deuten hilft: nach innen, nicht nach au\u00dfen gehe der Weg, dort liege die neu zu schaffende Gotteswelt: \u2013 erst die Seelennot der Mutter entscheidet sein Bleiben und Wirken auf steinigem Heimatboden. Sie kann das strenge Gebot des Sohnes noch nicht erf\u00fcllen: alles abzuwerfen und nackt ins Grab zu steigen. Indes vielleicht in der Todesstunde sendet sie reuig nach ihm: dann soll sie die Hand nicht vergebens ausstrecken. Er bleibt, und Agnes, bereit, sein Leben in der Halbnacht ragender Bergw\u00e4nde zu teilen, nicht zur\u00fcckgeschreckt von seiner st\u00e4ten drohenden Forderung: _Alles oder nichts!_ \u2013 folgt ihm, als seine Gef\u00e4hrtin, \u00bbin die Nacht, bis in den Tod.\u00ab\n\n\u00dcber drei Jahre des Gl\u00fcckes \u2013 einen blo\u00dfen Aufschub der Pr\u00fcfung \u2013 geht der Dichter hinweg. Weib und Kind haben die Sch\u00e4tze gehoben, die von Jugend her in Brands Gem\u00fcte versch\u00fcttet lagen. Er ist nun empf\u00e4nglich f\u00fcr Freuden, doch auch f\u00fcr Qualen: der fr\u00fcher Gewappnete mag nun getroffen werden in seinen Lieben. Die wiederholte Weigerung der sterbenden Mutter, ihr ganzes Gut den Armen hinzugeben f\u00fcr's Sakrament, erpre\u00dft ihm Tr\u00e4nen, ihr unbu\u00dffertiger Tod ersch\u00fcttert ihn aufs tiefste; dennoch l\u00e4\u00dft er sich von Agnes, von dem alten Doktor, von dem praktischen Vogte nicht das geringste abdingen an seinen hohen Forderungen. Da \u00f6ffnet ihm der Arzt die Augen f\u00fcr die Lebensgefahr seines Kindes, das in der eisigen Felsengruft rettungslos dahinwelkt. Flucht ist sein erster Gedanke. Aber nun mahnt es ihn von allen Seiten, da\u00df er _sich erlassen wolle, was er von_ andern unerbittlich gefordert hat. Die Stunde des Opfers ist gekommen: sein Kind darf ihm nicht zum Abgott werden. Agnes kann, als Mutter, nicht den schrecklichen Kelch der Wahl von ihm nehmen \u2013 als Gattin ist sie bereit zu gehorchen. Alles oder nichts! Niedersinkend in Tr\u00e4nen, gebietet er ihr, das Kind zur\u00fcckzutragen \u00fcber die verlassene Schwelle.\n\nWarum sendet Brand nicht Weib und Kind allein s\u00fcdw\u00e4rts? Grundverschieden von den pflichtgetreuen Helden des R\u00fchrst\u00fccks ist der tragische Held. Er mu\u00df k\u00f6nnen, aber nicht wollen \u2013 nicht wollen _k\u00f6nnen_. In dem Augenblick, wo er das Kind fortsendet, \u2013 einen Teil der Gabe sichert, mit Gott marktet, wie die geizige Mutter, \u2013 wird er sich untreu und seinem Berufe. Ja oder nein ist sein Wesen, das Wesen des Idealismus, der Sinn der Dichtung.\n\nDas Opfer des Kindes bildet den H\u00f6hepunkt des Dramas, den Schlu\u00df des dritten Aktes; beim Beginn des vierten ist das Kind gestorben und begraben. Den willensharten Mann st\u00e4rkt im Leiden das Bewu\u00dftsein erf\u00fcllter Pflicht und \u00fcberzeugt ihn mehr als je von der Notwendigkeit seines Evangeliums der Kraft. Der Frauennatur hingegen, der einsam im \u00f6den Hause hintrauernden Agnes, ist das \u00dcbermenschliche, das ihr auferlegt worden, nur B\u00fcrde, nicht Genugtuung. In ihrem nicht zu stillenden Schmerze birgt sich eine neue Pr\u00fcfung. Brand darf sie nicht halben Weges die Last abwerfen und sich zur\u00fcckwenden lassen zu dem unwiderbringlich Verlorenen, sonst ist ihr beider Opfer umsonst gebracht. Da sie Weihnachtslichter ans Fenster stellt, da\u00df der Schein hinausfalle auf das Grab ihres \u2013 Abgotts, mu\u00df er den Laden schlie\u00dfen; da sie einer bettelnden Zigeunerin nicht alle Kleidchen ihres Kindes \u00fcberl\u00e4\u00dft, nicht willig das letzte Erinnerungszeichen aus der Hand gibt, mu\u00df er sie dazu zwingen. Nun fallen die Fesseln des Irdischen von Agnes ab, sie hat sich innerlich \u00fcberwunden und befreit, aber mit Ersch\u00f6pfung ihrer letzten Kr\u00e4fte. Noch k\u00f6nnte Brand das Zigeunerweib zur\u00fcckrufen und den verkl\u00e4rt emporstrebenden Geist wieder herablocken in das himmelblinde Alltagsleben \u2013 wenn er Beruf und Opfer und sich selbst vergessen k\u00f6nnte! Gute Nacht bietet ihm Agnes \u2013 f\u00fcr immer. \u2013 Das germanische Ideal einer Gattin und Mutter hat kein stammgen\u00f6ssischer Dramatiker vor diesem norwegischen also erh\u00f6het, keiner hat die ideale Ehe derart in den Mittelpunkt eines Hauptwerkes gestellt.\n\nEingeschoben zwischen diese tragischen Erlebnisse ist ein Auftritt andrer Farbe und Stimmung: Brands n\u00fcchterner Widersacher, der Vogt, kommt als geschlagener Mann, am Weihnachtsabend Frieden und wom\u00f6glich B\u00fcndnis zu schlie\u00dfen mit dem Geistesgewaltigen. Reift auch in der allzu umfangreichen Zwischenszene Brands Entschlu\u00df, mit dem schuldbehafteten Erbe der Mutter eine neue, gr\u00f6\u00dfere Kirche zu bauen, so dient sie doch mehr der sch\u00e4rfsten, \u00fcber den k\u00fcnstlerischen Rahmen hinausgehenden Satire auf norwegische Zust\u00e4nde. Dieser Unterredung Brands mit dem Vertreter des weltlichen Beamtentums entspricht, im f\u00fcnften Aufzug, eine \u00e4hnliche, k\u00fcnstlerisch besser gebundene, mit dem Propst, dem F\u00fchrer des geistlichen Beamtentums. Unmittelbar vor der Einweihung der neuen Kirche mu\u00df ihr Stifter erkennen, welche Kluft ihn von den Amtsbr\u00fcdern scheidet. Und als ihm noch Ejnar entgegentritt, verwandelt von au\u00dfen und innen, ein \u00bbbekehrter\u00ab Fr\u00f6mmler \u2013 der Gegenpol zu dem beh\u00e4bigen Propste: da wirft er vor versammeltem Volke die Schl\u00fcssel der Kirche in den Bergstrom und f\u00fchrt die vom Geiste ergriffene Gemeinde hinweg von der Scholle \u2013 fort \u2013 in die Lande, \u00fcberall die Seelen zu befreien und die Erde umzuschaffen in einen Gottestempel. Die Begeisterung erlischt unter Beschwerden \u2013 Brand vermag keine Wunder zu tun, keinen Lohn zu verhei\u00dfen \u2013 und so fallen sie ab von ihm, den beg\u00fctigenden, l\u00fcgenden Machthabern wieder zu. Ja, sie treiben ihn mit Steinw\u00fcrfen h\u00f6her hinauf in die Gebirgsw\u00fcste. Der Versucher naht sich dem zum Tode Gebeugten in Gestalt seines Weibes \u2013: er weist ihn zur\u00fcck, bereit, den langen Leidensweg von vorne zu beginnen. Unter weit \u00fcberh\u00e4ngendem Gletscher steht er: in der \u00bbEiskirche\u00ab! wie die wahnsinnige Gerd triumphierend ruft, die sich allein zu dem Verlassenen gesellt hat. Mit einem B\u00fcchsenschu\u00df nach dem vermeintlichen Habicht lockt sie eine gewaltige Lawine hernieder auf sie beide.\n\nGerade die schlichte Nacherz\u00e4hlung l\u00e4\u00dft \u00fcberall das Symbolische der Vorg\u00e4nge unmittelbar empfinden. Reiner Idealismus, alles oder nichts! \u2013 das ist das Sch\u00f6ne, das Unm\u00f6gliche, das ist Sieg und Tod. Damit h\u00e4tte der sp\u00e4tere Ibsen aufgeh\u00f6rt, damit h\u00f6rt er in der Wildente auf. Damals aber versuchte er noch, seine Werke \u2013 auch Peer Gynt, ja noch den Bund der Jugend und die St\u00fctzen der Gesellschaft \u2013 im Stil und Geschmack der alten Schule abzurunden. Auf die Frage des sterbenden Brand an die ewige Macht, ob zur Erl\u00f6sung nichts helfe: Manneswille quantum satis? antwortet eine Stimme von oben: \u00bbEr ist deus caritatis.\u00ab \u00dcber die Bedeutung dieses Schlusses gehen die Ansichten weit auseinander. Sicherlich: die Verk\u00fcndigung des Gottes der barmherzigen Liebe, ernstlich als Ziel der Dichtung genommen, w\u00fcrde ihr Wesen und ihren Wert durchaus ver\u00e4ndern und den Dichter L\u00fcgen strafen, da\u00df er mit einem Politiker oder Bildhauer \u00bbganz denselben Syllogismus h\u00e4tte durchf\u00fchren k\u00f6nnen.\u00ab Mehr tief als klar nennt Georg Brandes die Symbolik \u2013 in Hinsicht auf den Schlu\u00df nicht ohne Grund. Zwar die Umri\u00dflinie ist auch hier festgezogen; im einzelnen aber gibt die Katastrophe manche R\u00e4tsel auf. Brand gelangt unvermerkt in die Eiskirche: das d\u00fcrfte sagen wollen, er l\u00e4uft Gefahr, innerlich zu erstarren, alles Gef\u00fchl f\u00fcr das Menschliche zu verlieren. Der Habicht wurde \u00bbals Geist des Akkordes\u00ab gedeutet. Bemerkenswerter denn solche allegorische Einzelheiten ist, da\u00df der f\u00fcnfte Aufzug nichts andres vorstellt, als eine symbolische Wiederholung dessen, was Brand in den ersten vier Akten getan und erlitten hat.\n\nDurch fr\u00fchere \u00bbBearbeitungen\u00ab mu\u00dfte der deutsche Leser den Eindruck empfangen, als w\u00e4re \u00bbBrand\u00ab eine genaue Nachahmung goethischen Vorbildes. Aus guter \u00dcbersetzung leuchtet die Selbst\u00e4ndigkeit der Urschrift in Geist und Gehalt, in Wort und Ton klar hervor. Faust tr\u00e4gt die Toga des Gelehrten, das Kleid des Ritters und die prunkvolle Hoftracht nach Laune und Bed\u00fcrfnis; Brand tr\u00e4gt nur das dunkle Gewand des Predigers und Priesters. Nur eine Stimmung beherrscht, sich hebend und senkend, das Gedicht vom Kampfe und den Leiden des emporstrebenden Willens in der \u00d6de nordischen Hochgebirges. Um so bewundernsw\u00fcrdiger die Kunst, mit den schlichten Mitteln Reichtum und Mannigfaltigkeit zu erzielen.\n\nWie \u00bbBrand\u00ab war auch \u00bb _PeerGynt_ \u00ab urspr\u00fcnglich als epische Dichtung geplant. Der Konflikt in \u00bbBrand\u00ab forderte dramatischen Aufbau mit strenger Linienf\u00fchrung; die Idee des \u00bbPeer Gynt\u00ab, nicht in die H\u00f6he strebend, sondern in die Breite, lie\u00df sich nur an einer Folge von Zust\u00e4nden und bunt wechselnden Ereignissen entfalten. \u00bbPeer Gynt\u00ab ist, trotz der \u00e4u\u00dferen dramatischen Form, episch geblieben: ein Zyklus von Bildern aus Peers Leben, h\u00f6chst geistvoll, phantastisch und zur Deutung anregend, manche figurenreich mit dramatischer Gruppierung. \u00bbStadien auf dem Lebenswege\u00ab hei\u00dft ein Buch von Kierkegaard: so k\u00f6nnte auch dies Drama betitelt sein. Es ist im Sommer 1867 teils auf Ischia, teils in Sorrent geschrieben und am 14. November desselben Jahres erschienen.\n\nBrand ist der willensstarke, der \u00fcberstarke, furchtlose, der den geraden Weg zum erkannten Ziele \u00fcber die Leichen der Seinigen hinweg fortsetzt, der sozusagen durch Fels und Mauer hindurch will. Sei, wozu du bestimmt bist, hei\u00dft seine Losung, _sei du selbst!_ Peer ist der willenlose, ziellose, der sich \u00fcberall und in alles f\u00fcgt, \u00fcberall \u00bbau\u00dfen herum\u00ab m\u00f6chte, \u00fcberall den R\u00fcckzug offen h\u00e4lt und feilscht und heuchelt und schmeichelt, der Feigling, der Egoist. Seine Lebensregel lautet: Tu immer nur, was dir genehm und bequem, _lebe dir selbst!_\n\nSo solltest du sein! spricht jede Zeile in \u00bbBrand\u00ab zum norwegischen Volke; hier aber wird der Nation ein Bild ihres Wesens und Charakters vor Augen gebracht, unbesch\u00f6nigt, ungemildert, mit allen Lastern und Fehlern: So bist du!\n\n\u00c4hnlichkeit der Absicht und der Aufgabe, bei v\u00f6lliger Un\u00e4hnlichkeit der Dichtercharaktere, erlauben uns, \u00bbPeer Gynt\u00ab mit Byrons \u00bbDon Juan\u00ab zusammenzustellen. \u00bbDas gro\u00dfe primum mobile Englands, die L\u00fcge\u00ab, wollte Byron treffen: \u00bbdie politische L\u00fcge, poetische L\u00fcge, religi\u00f6se L\u00fcge, moralische L\u00fcge, aber stets L\u00fcge, die sich in allen Phasen des Lebens wiederholt.\u00ab Und \u00bbPeer, Du l\u00fcgst!\u00ab ruft auch Ibsen schon mit der ersten Zeile dem norwegischen Volke zu. Die Alleinherrschaft der L\u00fcge im freiwillig gemiedenen und doch mit der Kraft des Zornes geliebten Vaterlande war es, was beide Dichter im sch\u00f6nen sonnigen S\u00fcden nicht rasten und genie\u00dfen lie\u00df, was ihre Blicke immer wieder auf die Heimat zur\u00fccklenkte und ihnen den Bogen mit den ferntreffenden Pfeilen in die Hand zwang.\n\nDon Juan ist ein aristokratisches Gew\u00e4chs, Peer Gynt Bauernsohn. Die Norweger betrachten sich jetzt noch mit Vorliebe als Bauernvolk, und auf dem norwegischen Parna\u00df ist darum, solange ihn die nationale Romantik beherrschte, eine wahre Bauernverg\u00f6tterung in Schwang gewesen. Ihr wertvollstes Erzeugnis, Bj\u00f6rnsons Bauernnovelle, Bj\u00f6rnsons \u00bbunwahre\u00ab Auffassung mit gleichen Waffen dichterisch zu bek\u00e4mpfen, zu dieser nationalen und notwendigen Tat hielt sich Ibsen berufen. Und so wurde \u00bbPeer Gynt\u00ab, was sich Zug f\u00fcr Zug nachweisen lie\u00dfe, auch ein vorbedachtes Gegenst\u00fcck zu \u00bbSynn\u00f6ve Solbakken\u00ab und \u00bbArne\u00ab. La\u00dft ein treffliches M\u00e4dchen Macht gewinnen \u00fcber den handfesten, trotzigen, aber im Grunde guten Sohn des Volkes, sagt Bj\u00f6rnson, und ihr werdet Wunder sehen. Ich zeige euch, was ihr sehen werdet, antwortet Ibsen, und er zeigt, da\u00df die Liebe an Peer nichts zu \u00e4ndern noch bessern, kein Werk der L\u00e4uterung zu vollbringen vermag. Bj\u00f6rnsons Thorbj\u00f6rn ist wortkarg, Peer ein Schw\u00e4tzer und Faselhans; Bj\u00f6rnsons Arne ein Dichter, Peer ein Aufschneider und L\u00fcgner. Nat\u00fcrlich sind, im Ganzen verglichen, beide Schilderungen einseitig. Ibsen hat es aber zugleich verstanden, seinen urspr\u00fcnglich als Vertreter des norwegischen Volkes gefa\u00dften Helden sich rein ausleben zu lassen, so da\u00df die geistvolle Frauenrechtlerin Camilla Collett der Dichtung nachr\u00fchmen konnte, ihr Held sei \u00bbschlechtweg der Mann\u00ab. Das gr\u00f6\u00dfte Lob! \u2013 auch hier die Menschheit im Menschen.\n\nWiederum sammelt und ordnet Ibsen die mannigfaltigen Z\u00fcge im Charakter seines Peer Gynt unter gewissen Gesichtspunkten; er stellt ihn begr\u00fcndend dar als ein Erzeugnis des Angestammten und der Erziehung oder vielmehr Vernachl\u00e4ssigung. Von dem durch sinnlose Verschwendung verarmten Vater hat Peer die eitle Selbstsucht, den Hang zu Wohlleben und Glanz; die bewegliche Einbildungskraft ist ein Erbteil von der Mutter Aase. Gleich die Eingangsszene liefert ein Beispiel der Erregbarkeit ihrer Phantasie: wie sie, mehr und mehr gepackt von der lebhaften Schilderung seines erlogenen Abenteuers, alles mit Augen schaut und es gar in der Erinnerung beh\u00e4lt, als h\u00e4tte er es wirklich bestanden. Wenn der Vater auf endlosen Rundfahrten Hab und Gut verzechte, sa\u00df sie mit dem kleinen Peer zu Hause und half sich und dem Kinde \u00fcber alles Unangenehme hinweg mit M\u00e4rchenerz\u00e4hlungen, die ihr und ihm schlie\u00dflich zu Wirklichkeiten wurden. Mit wahrer Affenliebe h\u00e4ngt sie nun an dem Schwindler und Faulpelz von Sohn, und auch ihr Schelten und Schm\u00e4len ist nur Strohfeuer. Immer ergreift sie seine Partei, selbst im Schlimmsten, und in der frechen Entf\u00fchrung der Braut vor den Augen des Br\u00e4utigams und der G\u00e4ste sieht sie zuletzt immerhin eine Tat. Alles wird ihr um des Sohnes willen gepf\u00e4ndet, aber was immer er verbricht \u2013 der Teufel ist daran schuld oder der Branntwein. Und der liebe Gott wird nicht so hart sein gegen einen so vortrefflichen Jungen. Wie durch einen Schleier scheinen in der Charakteristik beider Eltern Jugendeindr\u00fccke des Dichters durchzuschimmern, ohne da\u00df man sie jedoch als Portr\u00e4tstudien auffassen d\u00fcrfte. Denn stets und \u00fcberall fordert die Kunst den \u00e4u\u00dfersten Fall.\n\nPeer liebt die Mutter, der er so \u00e4hnlich ist, in seiner Art \u2013 behandelt sie als seinen einzigen Freund stets gutm\u00fctig, doch ohne jede Achtung. Die Szene ihres Hinscheidens \u2013 ein Gegenbild zum Tode der Mutter Brands \u2013 r\u00fcckt das beiden Gemeinsame und ihr darauf sich gr\u00fcndendes Verh\u00e4ltnis zueinander ins hellste Licht. Auch \u00fcber das Sterben, wie \u00fcber alles H\u00e4\u00dfliche, hilft\n\ner ihr mit einer ber\u00fchmt gewordenen M\u00e4rchenerz\u00e4hlung hinweg. Dann geht er in die weite Welt, das Begr\u00e4bnis der Nachbarin \u00fcberlassend. Aber seine Gef\u00fchle f\u00fcr die Mutter, wie wenig tief sie auch wurzeln, erweisen doch, da\u00df sein Herz nicht von vornherein d\u00fcrres Erdreich gewesen, und bereiten uns vor auf das schnelle Aufkeimen, doch auch auf das fr\u00fchzeitige Abwelken seiner Liebe zu Solvejg. Die Geschichte dieser Liebe bildet das F\u00fchrende und Bewegende, die eigentliche Handlung der ersten drei Akte.\n\nDa\u00df Solvejg ihm, dem \u00fcbelberufenen Burschen, auf jener Hochzeit den Tanz verweigert, macht ihn eben zum Brautr\u00e4uber und Fl\u00fcchtling. Die Roheit seiner Handlungsweise steht hier in eindrucksvollem Gegensatz zum edlen Beweggrund. Und um seiner reinen, neuerwachten Neigung willen verschm\u00e4ht er, der Lumpenprinz, die entf\u00fchrte Braut und ihren reichen Besitz. Auch die Verfolgung der emp\u00f6rten Bauern st\u00e4rkt ihn nur, aber die aufgeregte Kraft entl\u00e4dt sich bei der ersten Gelegenheit in w\u00fcster Ausschweifung mit den liebestollen Sennerinnen. Gewissensbet\u00e4ubung, Reue ohne sittlichen Halt \u2013 \u00e4hnlich, wenngleich weniger titanisch, wie die der byronischen Helden, Trotz und Verzweiflung gemischt, im Grunde Selbstliebe und Selbstvergebung. Auch wo sich der Phantasiebegabte in der erhabenen Gebirgsnatur eines inbr\u00fcnstigen Aufschwunges f\u00e4hig zeigt, ist seine Sehnsucht \u00fcberall nichts als der Wunsch nach Befreiung aus einer peinigenden Lage, ein abenteuerlicher Traum von einem Kaisertum jenseits der See. Kein Gedanke mehr an Solvejg.\n\nIst es schon bisher dem Phantasten nicht immer klar geworden, ob Traum ein Leben sei oder Leben ein Traum: die n\u00e4chsten Auftritte f\u00fchren ihn nun vollends in Fabelland. Den unmerklichen \u00dcbergang bildet die Szene mit den Sennerinnen, die ausgelassen in die Berge nach den Trollen rufen, und der sich anschlie\u00dfende Monolog Peers. Von den verschiedenen Verfahren, die mythische Welt mit der wirklichen in k\u00fcnstlerischen Einklang zu bringen, hat der Dichter hier das bew\u00e4hrte der niederl\u00e4ndischen und altdeutschen Meister gew\u00e4hlt, die einfach das Schemenhafte mit menschen\u00e4hnlicher K\u00f6rperlichkeit ausstatteten. Stets wird jedoch das Symbolische der Gestalten und Geschehnisse durchgef\u00fchlt, und das aus dem M\u00e4rchen Entlehnte dient schlie\u00dflich nur als Mittel zum Zweck, zur Projizierung seelischer Vorg\u00e4nge auf die B\u00fchne.\n\nPeers Untreue gegen Solvejg, d. h. gegen alles Bessere in ihm, schon zur Tat geworden in der Begegnung mit den Sennerinnen, wiederholt sich, wenn er einer Trollprinzessin beim ersten Anblick mit Liebeswerbung folgt bis in ihres Vaters unterirdisches Reich. Und dann, in der schlimmen Nacht, wo er ganz in die Gewalt der Kobolde, d. h. in die seiner niedern Begierden und Leidenschaften verf\u00e4llt, empfinden wir, wie er tiefer und tiefer von der reinen Geliebten wegsinkt. Sie aber ist doch im Geiste immer in Treuen um ihn gewesen und kommt nun zu ihm in die Ein\u00f6de, in den winterlichen Wald, sein Los zu teilen. Vergeblich, denn Peer hat nicht den Mut und die Kraft, die S\u00fcnden der Vergangenheit aus seinem Sinn auszutreiben durch ein hartes Leben, durch wahrhafte Reue. Er fl\u00fcchtet aus dem Lande und l\u00e4\u00dft die Geliebte auf seine R\u00fcckkehr warten \u2013 ein Menschenleben lang.\n\nIbsens Landsleute bed\u00fcrfen keiner Erkl\u00e4rung zu Peer Gynt; der Held und seine merkw\u00fcrdigsten Erlebnisse sind ihnen wohlbekannter Stoff, den Feenm\u00e4rchen Asbj\u00f6rnsens, des nordischen Grimm, entnommen. Hier fand der Dichter den Grundzug im Charakter seines Helden und zugleich, durch den sch\u00f6pferischen Gedanken, das Ringen mit dem \u00bbKrummen\u00ab symbolisch zu wenden, die Idee zu seinem Werke. Hier borgte er auch all das Spuk- und Koboldwesen der drei ersten Akte, um es psychologisch und satirisch vollkommen umzuwerten zu seiner eigenen Erfindung. Welcher unsterbliche Hohn, da\u00df Peer keinen Unterschied entdeckt zwischen diesen so gezeichneten Trollen und seinesgleichen! Das Trollenreich offenbart die gemeinen Begierden und Leidenschaften im Menschen, daher die \u00c4hnlichkeit; aber es zeigt sie, durch keine Heuchelei und Verstellung gemildert, rein und in ihrem h\u00f6chsten Grade, als Urbilder gleichsam. Ganz ohne Rest auszulegen freilich w\u00e4ren die Trollszenen nicht. Denn die Gesch\u00f6pfe der Phantasie erlangen ja mit der K\u00f6rperlichkeit ein selbst\u00e4ndiges Dasein; sie _bedeuten_ nicht blo\u00df, sie _sind_. Wohl aber l\u00e4\u00dft sich von dem Kampfe mit dem gro\u00dfen Krummen sagen, er versinnliche Peers Kampf mit dem eigenen Charakter, mit der eigenen willenstr\u00e4gen Natur, die sich wie ein z\u00e4her Ring um sein besseres Selbst legt und es nicht durchlassen will zur Freiheit, zum Lichte.\n\nNur der Benennung nach in f\u00fcnf, dem Inhalt nach in drei klar voneinander getrennte Abteilungen zerf\u00e4llt das dramatische Gedicht. Akt I-III: Peers, des Tunichtguts Jugendjahre; Akt IV: Peer im reifen Mannesalter, ein selbstgemachter Mann und amerikanischer Kr\u00f6sus; Akt V: der wieder verarmte, viel umgetriebene Graukopf Peer, zuletzt noch Pelzj\u00e4ger und Goldgr\u00e4ber, kehrt abenteuerm\u00fcde heim in sein Vaterland. Anfang und Schlu\u00df entsprechen sich sehr gut, der mittlere Teil steht allein und abgesondert. Wie hat es der Tagdieb und Tr\u00e4umer zum reichen Schiffsreeder bringen k\u00f6nnen? Wohl liegen im norwegischen Charakter Tr\u00e4umerei und Erwerbssinn _neben_ einander; aber der Dichter schildert sie _nach_ einander. Und einmal abgeschweift vom Wege der Wahrscheinlichkeit, lie\u00df er sich von seiner Spottlust querfeldein verlocken. Die drei ersten Aufz\u00fcge und der f\u00fcnfte sind rein symbolische Satire, aus sich selbst zu verstehen und zu genie\u00dfen; der vierte, in Afrika spielende Akt f\u00fchrt nicht nur den Helden aus dem vollen Menschenleben hinweg in die W\u00fcste: auch uns \u2013 in die W\u00fcste der Allegorie und der Karikatur. Mit der gesucht genialen Sorglosigkeit eines Romantikers \u00e4ltester Schule hat Ibsen hier die drei Erlebnisse Peers behandelt: seine Beraubung an der marokkanischen K\u00fcste, sein Prophetentum bei einem Araberstamme, seine Kaiserkr\u00f6nung im Irrenhause zu Kairo. Aber das gl\u00e4nzende Aufgebot des Geistes und Witzes t\u00e4uscht und tr\u00f6stet keinesfalls \u00fcber den fehlenden _glaubw\u00fcrdigen_ Fortgang der Handlung, und wir begr\u00fc\u00dfen mit herzlichem Beifall im f\u00fcnften Aufzug die R\u00fcckkehr zu den nat\u00fcrlichen Kunstmitteln der ersten Akte.\n\nDen eisgrau und wettergebr\u00e4unt Heimsegelnden f\u00fchrt uns eine Schiffsszene vor, von frischer Seeluft erf\u00fcllt, den besten elisabethanischen gleichwertig. Wie leibt und lebt da wiederum alles, selbst der fremde Passagier, von dem der Dichter nie zugeben wollte, da\u00df es der verk\u00f6rperte Schrecken sei, obschon er doch f\u00fcr einen gew\u00f6hnlichen \u00bbverst\u00f6rten\u00ab Fahrgast zu bedeutsam spricht und \u2013 zu gut schwimmt. Ehe dem alten S\u00fcnder Peer das Urteil gesprochen wird, soll kein Mittel unversucht bleiben, sein Gewissen wach zu r\u00fctteln, seine Reue und Umkehr zu bewirken. Dies der Zweck sowohl des Schiffbruchs, wie der eindringlichen Begr\u00e4bnisszene und der Versteigerung im heimischen Kirchspiel. Vergebens. Zwar verspottet er nun sich selbst mit bitterem Humor, aber so kauft sich Einsicht wider Willen aufs billigste los von Reue und Besserung; zwar geht die Stimmung mit j\u00e4her, kr\u00e4ftiger Sicherheit in eine andere \u00fcber, da er unvermutet in die N\u00e4he der H\u00fctte gelangt, wo Solvejg noch immer seiner harrt, aber wieder fl\u00fcchtet er durch den Wald von dannen, nur ersch\u00fcttert, nicht bekehrt.\n\nDer Ausgang, der Rechtsstreit um die Seele, geh\u00f6rt zum Genialsten in gesamter germanischer Literatur: realistisch und im h\u00f6chsten Grade symbolisch, symbolisch durch ein ganz unerh\u00f6rtes Verfahren, durch die k\u00fchnste Mischung des Behaglich-Komischen, des Drolligen mit dem bittersten Ernste. Der Abgesandte des \u00bbMeisters\u00ab, der ganz menschliche Knopfgie\u00dfer, ist ein w\u00fcrdiges modernes Gegenst\u00fcck zum menschlichen Teufel Goethes, und von modernstem Geiste funkeln die Szenen mit dem Dovre-Alten und mit Ehren-Diabolus als Beichtvater in schwarzer Sutane.\n\nSchon ist das Beichtkind so gut wie gerichtet, und der Knopfgie\u00dfer will sich seiner bem\u00e4chtigen, da bezwingt den Dichter, nachdem er seinen Peer so unerbittlich gez\u00fcchtigt, mit einem Male R\u00fchrung und Mitleid. Weil Peers ideales Selbst, makellos wie es dem Gottesgedanken entsprungen, immerdar in Solvejgs Herzen gelebt, wird seinem irdischen Selbst der schm\u00e4hlichste Lebenswandel verziehen. Ja, \u00bbwer immer strebend sich bem\u00fcht\u00ab ...! aber ein Peer? Nur eine beinahe religi\u00f6se \u00dcberzeugung vom Wert und Gnadenamt des \u00bbunschuldigen Weibes\u00ab macht den Schlu\u00df des Peer Gynt \u00fcberhaupt begreiflich. Oder hat die Vaterlandsliebe dem Dichter dies tr\u00f6stende Zugest\u00e4ndnis abgerungen? Verzeiht er nach hartem Urteil \u2013 zur Ermutigung? \u00dcbrigens ist es eine sehr feine Gattung L\u00fcge, die Ibsen seinen Volksgenossen zuschreibt, L\u00fcge aus \u00dcberschwang der Phantasie, eigentlich die blo\u00dfe Entartung einer k\u00fcnstlerischen Tugend, kein philisterhaftes Laster wie das britische cant. Und ihrem Groll \u00fcber seine Strenge durfte er stets das Bekenntniswort entgegensetzen: \u00bbIch bin nicht freundlicher gegen mich selbst als gegen andere.\u00ab\n\nIn Dresden schreibt sich Ibsen w\u00e4hrend der Wintermonate 1868 auf 1869 seinen \u00bb _Bund der Jugend_ \u00ab von der Seele, der zuerst den Nebentitel f\u00fchrte \u00bbHerrgott u. Comp.\u00ab (auf des Helden verstiegenes Wort hin: \u00bbmit dem Bund der Jugend steht die Vorsehung im Bunde\u00ab). Die Arbeit entwickelt sich ihm in \u00bbeiner gl\u00fccklichen und vers\u00f6hnten Gem\u00fctsstimmung\u00ab. Er schafft nach \u00bbModell\u00ab, aber er hat die Indignation \u00fcberwunden, die ihm die Modelle einst verursacht haben. Man wies damals mit dem Finger auf Bj\u00f6rnson. Doch Ibsen bestreitet (Brief an Hegel, 14. Dez. 1869), da\u00df er Bj\u00f6rnson hat treffen wollen, \u2013 vielmehr nur Bj\u00f6rnsons \u00bbdurch und durch verlogenen Parteikreis\u00ab.\n\nMit diesem ersten modernen Prosast\u00fcck, worin Ibsen (was er sich selbst zur Ehre anrechnete) ohne einen einzigen Monolog, ohne ein einziges \u00bbBeiseite\u00ab auskam, betrat er die Bahn, die er nur einmal noch und dann nie wieder verlassen sollte. Ibsen kn\u00fcpft in dieser lustig-ernsten Zeitsatire an die Tradition des gro\u00dfen nordischen Kom\u00f6diendichters Ludwig Holberg an. Es klingt wie eine Dankbarkeit- und Ehrfurchtbezeigung vor dem alten Meister, wenn im \u00bbBund der Jugend\u00ab der Buchdrucker Aslaksen fragt: \u00bbWie lange war Jeppe in seinem Paradies?\u00ab Jeppe vom Berge, ein Enkel des Shakespeareschen Kesselflickers Schlau, geh\u00f6rt zu Holbergs genialsten Kom\u00f6dien. Es ist der trunkene Bauer, dem eine Zeitlang suggeriert wird, er sei ein gro\u00dfer, vornehmer, reicher Herr, und der dann doch wieder auf seinem Misthaufen zur ruppigen Wirklichkeit erwacht. Der vergebliche Kampf um die Illusion eines h\u00f6heren und besseren Daseins wird fortan auch in Ibsens St\u00fccken der tragikomische Grundstoff. Zu einem besseren und h\u00f6heren Dasein strebt schon der Gr\u00fcnder des Jugendbundes, der Rechtsanwalt Stensg\u00e5rd, empor. Aber er strebt mit kleinlichen, l\u00fcgnerischen Mitteln nach einem niedrigen Ziel. Reiche Heirat und Machtentfaltung, soweit eine Kirchturmspitze sichtbar bleibt, gen\u00fcgen seinem Ehrgeiz. Er kann nur ein Weilchen blenden, dann wird er wie der erste beste alte Holbergsche Lustspielesel entlarvt und verlacht. W\u00e4hrend aber die meisten Holbergschen Helden ihre kleinen Laster und gro\u00dfen Narrheiten innerhalb der Familie bet\u00e4tigten, wird anderthalb Jahrhunderte darauf der Wirkungskreis des Strebers weiter: er ber\u00fchrt das Leben in der Kommune und im Staat. \u00bbDer Bund der Jugend\u00ab ist eine politische Kom\u00f6die, wie es Holbergs \u00bbpolitischer Kannengie\u00dfer\u00ab nie sein konnte. Der Unverstand dieses alten Hermann von Breme lie\u00df sich nur weismachen, da\u00df er ein B\u00fcrgermeister sei, w\u00e4hrend der junge Rechtsanwalt Stensg\u00e5rd tats\u00e4chlich in der Gemeinde, im Staat eine Rolle spielen soll. Noch bevor er das Reichstagsmandat erwirbt, gehen seinen W\u00e4hlern \u00fcber ihn die Augen auf; er zieht mit langer Nase und einigen K\u00f6rben ab.\n\nDa\u00df sich diese W\u00e4hler aber eine Zeitlang von ihm blenden und g\u00e4ngeln lie\u00dfen, spricht weder f\u00fcr ihre Charaktergr\u00f6\u00dfe noch f\u00fcr ihre Geistesst\u00e4rke. Allenthalben wird im Tr\u00fcben gefischt. Was den hohlen Helden vor seiner Gefolgschaft auszeichnet, ist nur die sichere Beherrschung der Phrase. Rings um ihn her sieht man den Familiend\u00fcnkel, die Selbstgerechtigkeit des bornierten Ehrenmannes und Bourgeois-Gentilhomme, man sieht den Geldmachtkitzel des unerfahrenen, verf\u00fchrten Sohnes, das protzenhafte Parven\u00fctum des schwindelhaften Spekulanten, die h\u00e4mische Zerst\u00f6rungslust eines Entgleisten, die unterw\u00fcrfige Zudringlichkeit eines Gedr\u00fcckten, man sieht sogar, als w\u00e4ren wir mitten im alten Kom\u00f6dienlande, die Mannstollheit der alternden Witwe. Es w\u00e4re nicht schwierig, f\u00fcr alle diese Typen in Holbergs b\u00fcrgerlich-moralischen Kom\u00f6dien Ebenbilder zu finden. Holberg blieb beim reinen Typus, beim Musterexemplar einer lustig-l\u00e4stigen Menschengattung stehen. Ibsen schreitet zwar schon hier zur Entwicklung individueller Charaktere vor, aber entscheidend bleibt auch bei ihm noch der Typus. Im \u00bbBund der Jugend\u00ab ist noch nicht alles, was der Dichter zu sagen und zu fragen hat, \u00bbverdichtet\u00ab worden, d. h. in Handlung oder Charakteristik umgesetzt. Der Raisonneur, Fabriksarzt Fjeldbo, hat noch viel durch direkte Betrachtung und Begutachtung auszusprechen, was der sp\u00e4tere Ibsen mit reiferer Kunst auf indirektem Wege beigebracht h\u00e4tte. Nach Ibsens Weise wird schon hier das Wesen des Helden aus seiner Abkunft und Erziehung, der Mann aus dem Milieu erkl\u00e4rt. Aber w\u00e4hrend sich in sp\u00e4teren Werken die Vergangenheit der Personen allm\u00e4hlich wie durch Zuf\u00e4lle mit untr\u00fcglicher Gewi\u00dfheit enth\u00fcllt, erfahren wir von Stensg\u00e5rds Eltern und Jugendjahren nur das, was sein Freund Fjeldbo erz\u00e4hlt. Wir m\u00fcssen an die Worte eines Dritten glauben; statt des untr\u00fcglichen Beweises der Tatsachen soll eine Zeugenaussage gen\u00fcgen. Auch die konventionelle Rolle des Confident, der nur dazu da ist, damit ein anderer dem Publikum ohne Monolog sagen kann, was er im stillen denkt, f\u00fchlt und will, hat Fjeldbo zu spielen. Daneben freilich ist er schon ein bescheidener Vorl\u00e4ufer jener Ibsenschen Desillusionisten, die den Leuten die Wahrheit ins Gesicht sagen und dem Nebenmann die Lebensl\u00fcge nehmen. Er ist an der Handlung beteiligt, wenn auch nur wenig und \u00e4u\u00dferlich. Im eigenen Interesse wird er sogar inkonsequent, wie es Theaterfiguren nie zu werden pflegen, und verliert sein Wahrheitsaposteltum. Er sagt seiner Braut das h\u00fcbsche, noch ganz norawidrige, aber helmerhafte Wort: \u00bbWenn ein Habicht den Taubenschlag umkreist, so h\u00fctet und besch\u00fctzt man sein T\u00e4ubchen, aber man \u00e4ngstigt es nicht.\u00ab Ibsen f\u00fchlt schon, da\u00df blo\u00dfe Raisonneurs und Confidents Gehilfen einer ungeschickten Technik sind, aber entbehren konnte er ihre Hilfe noch nicht. Wo Fjeldbo, der Vern\u00fcnftigste unter den Toren, auftritt, liegen die L\u00e4ngen und Schw\u00e4chen der k\u00fcnstlerischen Komposition des St\u00fcckes.\n\nNoch eine andere Person im St\u00fcck k\u00f6nnte bald als Raisonneur, bald als Intrigant gelten, weil er der boshafteste Glossenmacher und ein galgenhumoristischer St\u00e4nkerer ist. Aber dieser Daniel Hejre lebt doch ausschlie\u00dflich von seinen eigenen Schicksalen, an denen sein eigenes Wesen geschmiedet hat. Er ist eine gesunkene Existenz und charakteristisch f\u00fcr die Welt, in der er vegetiert. Es ist nicht sehr geschickt, da\u00df er ohne Fug und Grund seine Lebensgeschichte selbst erz\u00e4hlt, aber er k\u00f6nnte doch, wie sein Gegenbild, der Buchdrucker Aslaksen, auch noch zu Ibsens gestaltungskr\u00e4ftigster Zeit im \u00bbVolksfeind\u00ab oder in der \u00bbWildente\u00ab als ein Mensch f\u00fcr sich unter Menschen gelten, obwohl der Dichter ihm ein gutes Teil der eigenen verschmitzten Gesinnung auf die witzige Zunge gelegt hat. Ein leiser autobiographischer Faden zieht sich von diesem Daniel Hejre bis hinauf zu dem so ganz anders gearteten Arnold Rubek des \u00bbEpilogs\u00ab. Beiden erscheint die Welt als ein zoologischer Garten. Wie der Bildhauer Rubek seinen Gebilden heimlich Tierfratzen einbaut, so geht Daniel Hejre unter Menschen wie in einer Menagerie, und die Staatsb\u00fcrger sind ihm aufgescheuchte H\u00fchner, die gackern und kr\u00e4hen und nicht wissen, auf welche Stange sie sich setzen sollen.\n\nDaniel Hejres \u00e4tzender Hohn war das, was urspr\u00fcnglich die Gem\u00fcter am meisten gegen dieses St\u00fcck und seinen Autor aufreizte. J\u00e4ger erz\u00e4hlt in seiner Ibsenbiographie von den erregenden Wirkungen der ersten Auff\u00fchrungen, die seit dem 18. Oktober 1869 in Christiania stattfanden, w\u00e4hrend der Dichter weit vom Schu\u00df am Suezkanal weilte. Bei der Premiere tobte ein solcher L\u00e4rm, da\u00df das Weiterspielen in Frage stand. Liberale und Konservative f\u00fchlten sich in gleicher Weise getroffen. Der gro\u00dfe Dichter galt als politischer Pamphletist. Da\u00df dieses Werk eine neue Epoche der nordischen B\u00fchne einleitete, ahnte damals selbst Bj\u00f6rnson nicht, der sechs Jahre sp\u00e4ter auf der nun von Ibsen gebrochenen Bahn mit dem \u00bbFallissement\u00ab einen Welterfolg haben sollte.\n\nNorwegische Sch\u00f6pfungen entstanden in Italien und Deutschland. Nachdem er sich von \u00bbPeer Gynt\u00ab befreit hatte, \u00fcberkam ihn das Gef\u00fchl: \u00bbIch mu\u00df meine Rettung in einem Fernliegenden suchen\u00ab; zugleich meldet er Hansen (wie bereits am 10. Juni 1869 seinem Verleger): \u00bbUnd da denke ich mich an Kaiser Julian zu machen.\u00ab Seine Freunde bleiben \u00fcber den Fortgang der gewaltigen Arbeit unterrichtet, \u00fcber das Wachstum des \u00bbUngeheuers Julian\u00ab, mit dem er Jahr um Jahr \u00bbringt\u00ab. Er \u00bbsteckt tief in der Arbeit\u00ab (an Hegel, 12. Juli 1871), und das Buch soll \u00bbsein Hauptwerk\u00ab werden. Am 8. August 1872 meldet er, da\u00df der zweite Teil der (zuerst auf drei Dramen berechneten) Dichtung fertig sei; am 6. Februar 1873 k\u00fcndigt er die Vollendung an. Zugleich \u00e4u\u00dfert er sich \u00fcber Ideen und Anschauungen, die ihn bei der Arbeit bewegt haben. Er sieht ein \u00bbBruchst\u00fcck der Menschheitsgeschichte\u00ab: \u00bbund was ich sah, das habe ich wiederzugeben versucht\u00ab. Er h\u00e4lt sich \u00bbstreng an das Historische\u00ab: \u00bbich habe das alles gewisserma\u00dfen vor meinen Augen abspielen sehen\u00ab. Es wurde \u00bbrealistische Dichtung\u00ab ganz und durchaus: \u00bbIch habe die Gestalten im Lichte ihrer Zeit vor Augen gesehen.\u00ab Und dann ein Bekenntnis in dem Brief an Edmund Gosse vom 14. Oktober 1872: \u00bbEs ist ein Teil meines eigenen geistigen Lebens, den ich in diesem Buche niederlege: was ich schildere, habe ich in anderen Formen selbst durchlebt, und die Wahl des historischen Themas steht auch mit den Bewegungen unserer eigenen Zeit in einem engeren Zusammenhang, als man zun\u00e4chst glauben sollte. Das halte ich auch f\u00fcr eine unumg\u00e4ngliche Forderung f\u00fcr jede moderne Behandlung eines so fern liegenden Stoffes, wenn er vom Standpunkt der Poesie Interesse wecken soll.\u00ab Zwei Jahre sp\u00e4ter gibt er \u2013 in der ber\u00fchmten Rede an die Christianiaer Studenten \u2013 einen Fingerzeig \u00fcber eine Seite der Zusammenh\u00e4nge: am Ende seiner Laufbahn betr\u00fcbt den sinkenden Kaiser Julian unendlich tief der Gedanke, da\u00df er nicht mehr gewann, als mit hochachtungsvoller Anerkennung in klaren und kalten K\u00f6pfen weiterzuleben, \u00bbw\u00e4hrend seine Widersacher reich an Liebe wohnten in warmen, gl\u00e4ubigen Menschenherzen\u00ab. Dieser Zug beruht auf etwas Erlebtem, sagt Ibsen: \u00bber hat seinen Ursprung in einer Frage, die ich mir selber zuweilen vorgelegt habe da unten in der Einsamkeit.\u00ab\n\nDie Kultur, die ihn in Italien umgab, die Zeugen einer gro\u00dfen Vorzeit, die er in Denkm\u00e4lern vor sich sah, legten ihm die neue gro\u00dfe Aufgabe in den Geist. Er wanderte mit sehendem Blick durch das Rom der P\u00e4pste, durch das Rom der Kaiser. Er sah zur\u00fcck auf den Kampf der beiden gro\u00dfen Kulturm\u00e4chte, er sah im Glanz der Weltgeschichte die Antike und das Christentum miteinander ringen. Sein Dichterohr vernahm schallend durch die L\u00fcfte der ewigen Stadt den Todesschrei des Kaisers: \u00bbDu hast gesiegt, Galil\u00e4er!\u00ab Schon in diesem Wort liegt die Tragik eines Menschenlebens. Kaiser Julian, der Herr der bewohnten Erde, emp\u00f6rt sich gegen Christus, den Herrn des Himmels. Der sterbliche Mensch, der sich an einem Gottesgedanken zu Tode ringt \u2013 es ist nicht mehr die Trag\u00f6die seiner selbst, sondern die Trag\u00f6die der Menschheit, der Menschlichkeit. In diesem weiten und gro\u00dfen Sinne hat Ibsen den Gegensatz von Kaiser und Galil\u00e4er erfa\u00dft. Dieser allzu menschliche kaiserliche Mensch f\u00fchlt den Beruf zur Weltherrschaft in sich, ergreift seinen Beruf und scheitert, weil er, von weltlichen Eitelkeiten verblendet, nicht, wie der Galil\u00e4er, f\u00fcr seinen Gedanken sich selbst freudig aufzuopfern vermag. Aus dem dogmatischen Anh\u00e4nger Christi wird ein fanatischer Feind Christi. Anstatt das Christentum auf einer h\u00f6heren Entwicklungsstufe innerlich zu \u00fcberwinden, will er es \u00e4u\u00dferlich besiegen. In diesem Irrtum wird er selbst besiegt. Durch eine F\u00fclle sinnlicher Eindr\u00fccke f\u00fchrt uns das Drama. Auf den Gassen Konstantinopels raufen die Spie\u00dfb\u00fcrger heuchlerisch um ihren Glauben und innerhalb desselben Glaubens um ihre Sekte. Julians Vorg\u00e4nger, der Kaiser Konstantios, betritt die christliche Kirche, sinnlich beherrscht von einem heidnischen Sklaven. Wir sehen den C\u00e4sar Julianos in Ephesos der Studien beflissen, in Paris das Heer gegen den Kaiser aufwiegeln; in den Katakomben zu Vienna, wo er sich der Magie ergeben hat, erf\u00e4hrt er, da\u00df er Kaiser ist. Der C\u00e4sarenwahn bem\u00e4chtigt sich langsam seines Gehirns und zerst\u00f6rt einen edlen Geist. Schmeichler treffen sein Ohr. Gr\u00fcnde der philosophischen Betrachtung haben ihn von Christus abgewandt, Gr\u00fcnde der weltlichen Eitelkeit treiben ihn den alten G\u00f6ttern wieder zu. Er spielt in l\u00e4cherlicher Nachahmung, umgeben von Dirnen und Gauklern, die Rolle des Dionysos und wagt sich auch an Apollon; doch unter dem Fluch eines christlichen Seelenhirten st\u00fcrzt der hehre Tempel des Sonnengottes zusammen. Die beiden Gegens\u00e4tze Christentum und Antike scheinen gemeinsam verschworen gegen den zwischen ihnen pendelnden Erdensohn. Bald h\u00e4lt den Haltlosen der trockene Staub pedantischer Buchweisheit umw\u00f6lkt, bald der w\u00fcste Staub des Schlachtfelds. In dem Ringen nach der Herrschaft \u00fcber den Geist will er Diogenes, in dem Ringen nach der Herrschaft \u00fcber die Welt will er Alexander sein. Dabei f\u00e4llt er von Irrtum zu Irrtum; ihn \u00e4fft jede Kriegslist, ihn \u00e4fft das Orakel; ihm ist noch nicht vor seiner Gott\u00e4hnlichkeit bange, als schon die Welt allm\u00e4hlich den Glauben an ihn verliert. Erst da der Wahnsinn kommt und dann der Tod, kl\u00e4rt sich seines Geistes Auge, und er sieht und h\u00f6rt den Sohn des Zimmermanns, wie er des Kaisers Sarg zimmert. Nun verl\u00e4\u00dft den Erdennarrenleib die in Irrtum gereinigte Seele, \u00fcber deren Aushauch sich in Liebe, Glauben und Hoffnung ein betendes M\u00e4dchen beugt.\n\nWo Ibsen jemals ein Mannesschicksal ergriffen hat, stand f\u00fcr ihn an den entscheidenden Punkten ein Weib. \u00bb _Kaiser und Galil\u00e4er_ \u00ab scheint durchaus ein Mannesst\u00fcck zu sein. Und doch h\u00e4ngt auch hier so viel ab von zwei Frauen, die freilich nur wie Schatten \u00fcber die B\u00fchne gehen. Die eine ist Julians Weib Helena. Sie heuchelt Liebe zu ihrem Gatten, ihm und vielleicht auch sich selber. Sie sch\u00fcrt seine welterobernden Pl\u00e4ne. Sie ist die Waghalsigere. Innerlich aber hat sie mit dem unsch\u00f6nen, nicht allzu lendenfesten Tintenkleckser nichts gemein. Ihre Sinne geh\u00f6rten dem kurzen fleischigen Nacken des toten C\u00e4sars Gallos; ihre Seele dem Erl\u00f6ser am Kreuz; und als ihr, deren Scho\u00df einen Thronfolger tr\u00e4gt, von der Hand des noch herrschenden Kaisers Konstantios das t\u00f6dliche Gift beigebracht wird, verirren sich ihre Sinne in die Seele hinein; an die Stelle des Buhlen tritt der Gekreuzigte in eigener Person. Ihr Wahnsinn bildet sich ein, die Frucht ihres Leibes nicht vom C\u00e4sar Gallos empfangen zu haben, sondern vom \u00bbs\u00fc\u00dfen Jesus\u00ab. Neben dem paroxistischen Weibe steht der Gemahl, der alles h\u00f6rt und sieht. Und er h\u00f6rt auch, wie sehr sie ihn verachtet. Da entringt sich seiner tief beleidigten Brust der Ausruf: \u00bbGalil\u00e4er!\u00ab Das hat entschieden. Fortan ist der werdende Kaiser Todfeind des Galil\u00e4ers, der ihm nicht nur die Welt, sondern auch das Weib vorwegerobert hat.\n\nUnd wie ein Weib das Ganze entscheidet, so ist es auch ein Weib, welches das Ganze l\u00f6st \u2013 erl\u00f6st. Auch am Sterbelager Kaiser Julians steht das Ewig-Weibliche, das ihn hinanzieht, in Gestalt jener frommen Christin, die zugleich eine werkt\u00e4tige Samariterin ist und eine stille Denkerin; in der das Bild des Christentums klar und lauter leuchtet, und die von Anfang an, wie das Gewissen Julians, in seinem Schatten wandelt. Sie ist das reine Weib, das er in Helena vergeblich gesucht hatte; sein Verh\u00e4ngnis war, da\u00df sie erst in der Sterbestunde ihm nah sein durfte. Geahnt hat er sie oft, gew\u00fcnscht noch \u00f6fter, aber sein D\u00e4mon trat zwischen sie und ihn. Mit diesem D\u00e4mon begegnet sie sich auch an seiner Leiche. Sie gesteht in ihrer christlichen Liebe diesem D\u00e4mon zu, da\u00df dieser D\u00e4mon den Toten wahrhaft geliebt habe. Von der furchtbaren Gewalt des Schicksals geht auch durch ihre reine und standhafte Seele ein Schauer. Sie steht ratlos vor der Frage, wie ihr Gott beruft und auserw\u00e4hlt, wie auch das B\u00f6se sein Werkzeug wird. Sie m\u00f6chte diesen Abgrund nicht zu Ende denken. Lieber wendet sich ihre Milde zum Toten: \u00bbIrrende Menschenseele \u2013 _mu\u00dftest_ Du irren, so wird es Dir gewi\u00dflich zugute gerechnet werden an dem gro\u00dfen Tage, da der Gewaltige kommt in der Wolke, um Recht zu sprechen \u00fcber die lebendigen Toten und die toten Lebendigen.\u00ab\n\nEs ist das Zeichen des tragischen Heldentums, im Streben zu irren. Nie hat ein Mensch h\u00f6her gestrebt, als Kaiser Julian, der die Welt zuerst reinigen, dann besitzen will. Dem es nicht gen\u00fcgt, mit gutem Waffengl\u00fcck westw\u00e4rts die Germanen, ostw\u00e4rts die Perser zu bekriegen, sondern der \u00fcber Kriegs- und Staatskunst hinaus ins \u00dcbermenschliche strebt und so ins Unmenschliche ger\u00e4t. Dieser Ibsensche Kaiser erregt Furcht und Mitleid. Aber mitten in seinen gr\u00e4\u00dflichen Christenverfolgungen, mitten in seiner schweren Selbstpein, das Unm\u00f6gliche zu wollen, erregt er auch Spott. Er will ein Gott werden, und in ihm wird Gott zum Spott. Es liegt eine wahrhaft teuflische Kraft darin, wie Ibsen mit demselben Gegenstande, in den er das gewaltigste Wollen und ein gro\u00dfes K\u00f6nnen legt, zugleich spielt wie die Katze mit der Maus. So erhaben und l\u00e4cherlich zugleich ist Julian. So erhaben und l\u00e4cherlich zugleich, wie nach Ibsen alles Menschliche.\n\nSo erscheint dieses weltgeschichtliche Schauspiel als eine Tragikom\u00f6die. Auch der geheimnisvolle Mann, der als Julians b\u00f6ser Genius, als sein D\u00e4mon personifiziert wird, der sehr bedeutsam Maximos hei\u00dft, auch dieser tiefsinnige Mystiker steht im Banne des Tragikomischen. Denn an der Leiche seines Sch\u00fclers Julian, auf den er gehofft hat, an den er geglaubt hat, mu\u00df er bekennen, wie Doktor Faust: Da steh' ich nun, ich armer Tor, und bin so klug als wie zuvor.\n\nWas wollte die Weisheit dieses Magiers? Sie wollte in der Zeit, da Christentum und Antike um den Weltbesitz rangen, dasselbe, was Ibsen immer wollte: das dritte Reich. Auch durch die junge Seele des Ibsenschen Julian ging die Ahnung von einem gro\u00dfen Umschwung aller Verh\u00e4ltnisse. In der Antike hatte er die Sch\u00f6nheit, im Christentum die Wahrheit zu finden geglaubt. Dort herrschte das K\u00f6rperhafte, hier das Geistliche. Das wirft ihn in Skrupel, und bald gibt er zu: \u00bbEs mu\u00df eine neue Offenbarung kommen oder eine Offenbarung von etwas Neuem.\u00ab .... \u00bbDie alte Sch\u00f6nheit ist nicht mehr sch\u00f6n, und die neue Wahrheit nicht mehr wahr.\u00ab Darin best\u00e4rkt ihn die Lehre des Maximos, die dunkel ist wie die Zukunft und \u00fcberall, wo sie ins Tiefe dringt, auf ein R\u00e4tsel st\u00f6\u00dft, die aber vor allem eins behauptet: die Relativit\u00e4t aller Dinge, die Subjektivit\u00e4t aller Eindr\u00fccke und die innere Einheit aller Gegens\u00e4tze. Der Weg der Freiheit ist zugleich der Weg der Notwendigkeit. Das Wollen ist zugleich ein M\u00fcssen. Nur wer im eigenen Namen kommt, kann siegen, und doch ist jeder Siegende auch ein Werkzeug in der Hand eines H\u00f6heren, ebenso wie jeder Unterliegende. Maximos steht einsam allen irdischen Unternehmungen Julians fern. Er mischt sich in nichts und gibt nie einen positiven Rat. Aber von Zeit zu Zeit h\u00e4lt er geheime Zwiesprach mit dem Kaiser. Dann l\u00fcftet er die Schleier seiner unergr\u00fcndlichen, von ihm selbst nicht ergr\u00fcndeten Weisheit, und noch berauschter, als er kam, geht Julian zur\u00fcck in die Welt zu neuem Irrtum und neuer Schuld. Und auch Maximos irrte. Er hoffte in Julian den Begr\u00fcnder des dritten Reichs zu sehen, neben Moses und Jesus, aber er sieht ihn zuletzt nur als Dritten im Bunde des Kain und des Judas; oder, wie Maximos sagt, als den dritten Eckstein unter dem Zorne der Notwendigkeit. Und als Julian besiegt und tot daliegt, klagt er \u00fcber dieses dritte Schlachtopfer der Notwendigkeit, und da\u00df der Gott der Galil\u00e4er ein verschwenderischer Gott sei, der viele Seelen brauche. Maximos hatte den Kaiser Julian f\u00fcr das Weltprinzip des Guten gehalten, der Kaiser aber war, im Gegensatz zum Galil\u00e4er, das Weltprinzip des B\u00f6sen geworden; doch f\u00fcr Maximos gibt es keine Gegens\u00e4tze, er steht jenseits von gut und b\u00f6se. Auch das sogenannte B\u00f6se ist notwendig zum Siege, nur siegt es nicht. Und auch sein drittes Reich steht nicht im Gegensatze zu den beiden ersten, von denen das erste bald als die Antike, bald als das Alte Testament erscheint. Sondern die Reiche gehen ineinander auf, wie das Kind im J\u00fcngling, der J\u00fcngling im Mann. Auf das Mannesalter der Welt hat Maximos zur Zeit des Kaisers Julianos Apostata und im neunzehnten Jahrhundert nach Christo Henrik Ibsen vergeblich gewartet. Der eine konnte so wenig wie der andere eine Vorstellung davon geben, wie es in diesem dritten Reiche aussehen wird. Es ist nur eine Ahnung, kein Gewisses. Darum ist auch der irrende Seher Maximos nicht das Gr\u00f6\u00dfte auf der Welt. \u00bbDas Gr\u00f6\u00dfte in der Julianwelt ist das, was die christlichen Blutzeugen tun, die sich opfern f\u00fcr ihren Glauben. Der willige und freudige Opfermut \u2013 das ist die gro\u00dfe Tat, durch die der Mensch sich selbst \u00fcbertrifft, das ist die B\u00fcrgschaft der B\u00fcrger eines dritten Reiches. So gehen Rosmer und Rebekka gern und froh in den selbstgew\u00e4hlten Opfertod, eine alte Schuld s\u00fchnend. So opfert sich Hedwig Ekdal ihrem Vater. Und auch Nora, wenn sie von ihren Kindern geht, bringt ein Opfer. Denn zu diesem Opferwillen steht das andere Grundmotiv aller Ibsenschen Dichtung, die freie Entwicklung des Individuums, das \u00bbKommen im eigenen Namen\u00ab nicht im Gegensatz, sondern eines ist vom anderen die Kehrseite. Nur wer sein Leben einsetzt, gewinnt sich sein Leben. Das Opfer ist ein freier Entschlu\u00df der Pers\u00f6nlichkeit. Eben um dieses Opfers willen siegen die Galil\u00e4er. Der christgl\u00e4ubige und christbekennende Kriegsoberst Jovian wird zum Kaiser dieser Erde nach Julian ausgerufen, und Christen haben das letzte Wort im Drama.\n\nDie Riesenarbeit von \u00bbKaiser und Galil\u00e4er\u00ab hat den Dichter nicht abgespannt, sondern gekr\u00e4ftigt. Er hat nun den gro\u00dfen Stil gefunden auch f\u00fcr die k\u00fcnstlerische und psychologische Gestaltung gegenw\u00e4rtiger Menschen und Zust\u00e4nde. Ibsen bezeichnet sein n\u00e4chstes St\u00fcck, das er zu M\u00fcnchen im Sommer 1877 schrieb, schon am 23. Okt. 1875 seinem Verleger Hegel als eine \u00bbArt Gegenst\u00fcck zum Bund der Jugend\u00ab, das \u00bbbedeutungsvollere Zeitfragen\u00ab aufr\u00fchren werde. Es sind \u00bb _Die St\u00fctzen der Gesellschaft_ \u00ab.\n\nKonsul Bernick, die Hauptst\u00fctze, ist der erste moderne Mensch, den Ibsen im gro\u00dfen Stil geschaffen hat. Gesch\u00f6pf und Sch\u00f6pfer sind gleicherma\u00dfen imposant. Wie Stensg\u00e5rd, lebt auch Bernick noch in \u00e4u\u00dferlich kleinen, kleinst\u00e4dtischen Verh\u00e4ltnissen, durch die sich auch der Kleinst\u00e4dter Ibsen zu erkennen gibt. Aber Bernick ist doch schon ein gr\u00f6\u00dferer Handelsherr, der seine Dampfschiffe \u00fcber das Weltmeer schickt und k\u00fchne Pl\u00e4ne f\u00fcr das Binnenland fa\u00dft, ein Mann von reichen Gaben und einer Pers\u00f6nlichkeit, die auch den Sch\u00e4rferblickenden besticht. Die Gr\u00f6\u00dfe, die in ihm liegt, schrickt nicht vor dem Verbrechen zur\u00fcck und scheut sich nicht, um Ziele zu erreichen, Masken der Kleinlichkeit vorzubinden. Er st\u00fctzt eine leere und faule Gesellschaft, weil von ihr sein r\u00fccksichtsloses Vorw\u00e4rtsschreiten gef\u00f6rdert wird. Er verwirklicht das eine Ibsensche Ideal, das des Menschen, der sich ganz aus eigener Kraft und eigener Natur durchsetzt; und sehr viel sp\u00e4ter, zu sp\u00e4t verwirklicht er auch das andere Ibsensche Ideal, das des Menschen, der seiner Kraft und seiner Natur gem\u00e4\u00df frei bekennt und wahrhaftig gegen sich selbst und gegen andere handelt. Um zu diesem zweiten Ideal zu gelangen, hat Konsul Bernick durch die vier Akte des Dramas eine sittliche Erziehung durchzumachen.\n\nDie \u00bbSt\u00fctzen der Gesellschaft\u00ab sind eine p\u00e4dagogische Kom\u00f6die; darum stehen auch sie der Holbergschen \u00dcberlieferung noch nicht allzu fern. Wie nur je ein Lustspielheld der alten Schule, wird auch Konsul Bernick zum Schlusse durch Erfahrungen bekehrt. Er sieht sein Unrecht ein, er beichtet es vor aller Welt. Er, der mit den Heuchlern geheuchelt, mit den L\u00fcgnern gelogen hat, findet den Mut der Wahrheit und befreit sich von einer falschen Glorie, deren unheimlicher Schein ihn zuzeiten selbst blendet, aber vom eigentlichen Gl\u00fccksempfinden fern gehalten hatte. Freilich ist diese Besserung und Bekehrung nicht so \u00e4u\u00dferlich wie in alter Zeit. Die Kraft der Umwandlung wird bei Ibsen nicht mehr durch eine \u00e4u\u00dferlich den ganzen Charakter eines Menschen umknickende Intrigue verursacht, sondern sie vollzieht sich nach nat\u00fcrlichen Entwicklungsgesetzen, die in der Seele des Menschen selbst liegen (\u00bbGesetz der Wandlung\u00ab). Nat\u00fcrliche Motive haben den Konsul durch Lug und Trug bis an den Rand des Verbrechens gef\u00fchrt, nat\u00fcrliche Motive erheben ihn \u00fcber sich selbst. Nur eine Frage bleibt: sichert die momentane Selbstbefreiung vor R\u00fcckf\u00e4llen in altes \u00dcbel? Von der Leiche John Gabriel Borkmans, die zwischen den zwei Schwestern seines Schicksals liegt, gehen wir beruhigter und zuversichtlicher weg, als von diesem ausgewachsenen und doch seine Umwandlung \u00fcberlebenden Bekehrten und Belehrten, der nicht nur die zwei Schwestern seines Schicksals, sondern auch die eigene Schwester und seinen Knaben und so ziemlich alle Welt pl\u00f6tzlich ganz anders und endlich mit den rechten Augen sieht. Das \u00bbEnde gut, alles gut\u00ab des konventionellen Theaterst\u00fccks mu\u00df hier noch auf Treu und Glauben akzeptiert werden. Ein einziger Zweifel k\u00f6nnte das ganze Geb\u00e4ude umst\u00fcrzen. Sonst aber vermeidet Ibsen die Mittelchen einer theatralischen Technik hier schon mehr als im \u00bbBund der Jugend\u00ab. Zwar kehrt Lona Hessel mit der vorgefa\u00dften Absicht heim, \u00bbauszul\u00fcften\u00ab und \u00bbden Helden ihrer Jugend\u00ab frei und wahr hinzustellen. Aber ihr Vorgehen ist nicht von der mathematischen Planm\u00e4\u00dfigkeit der alten Theaterintrigue. Sie \u00fcberl\u00e4\u00dft sich und ihr Ziel den starken Impulsen ihrer naiven Seele, sie selbst ringt mit eigenstem Herzblut gegen M\u00e4chte, die sie erst im \u00dcberwinden erkennt, im Erkennen \u00fcberwindet. Sie wirkt nicht durch Erfindungen und Einfalle, wie sie noch im \u00bbBund der Jugend\u00ab Lundestad, Daniel Hejre und Fjeldbo haben, sondern durch die Gewalt der Tatsachen, an denen sie selbst so wenig r\u00fctteln kann wie andere. Auch sie ist mehr Werkzeug als Bewirker. Die opferfrohe Prophetin der Wahrheit und Treue, die alles das besitzt, was im Weibe stark ist, und darum nicht mehr zum \u00bbschwachen Geschlecht\u00ab zu geh\u00f6ren scheint, sie ist kein Kom\u00f6diengott mehr, der eine Kom\u00f6dienwelt nur von au\u00dfen stie\u00dfe, sondern sie ist ein lebendes und leidendes Organ jener Totalit\u00e4t, durch die ein Ausschnitt aus der Wirklichkeit erst zum Kunstwerk wird. Ebenso die anderen Personen dieses Dramas. Wenn einige davon, etwa der faulenzende Blaud\u00fcnstling Hilmar, ein Vorl\u00e4ufer Hjalmar Ekdals, oder der im Vertrauen auf die g\u00f6ttliche Vorsehung gaunernde Kaufmann Vigeland zuweilen an die Karikatur streifen, so sind andere, wie der Adjunkt R\u00f6rlund, Meisterst\u00fccke einer mit satirischem Blick richtig gesehenen Wirklichkeit.\n\nMan ist gerade unter den Verehrern Ibsens mit der Zeit etwas ungerecht gegen dieses St\u00fcck geworden. Gerade das sp\u00e4tere Schaffen Ibsens hat die Anspr\u00fcche so gesteigert, da\u00df man von diesem fr\u00fchen Werk und seinem allzu befriedigenden Ausgang nicht mehr ganz befriedigt wird. Wer aber, wie wir und unsere Altersgenossen, durch die \u00bbSt\u00fctzen der Gesellschaft\u00ab die gr\u00f6\u00dften Kunstoffenbarungen empfangen hat, kann von diesem erobernden und erleuchtenden Drama nicht wieder los. Unter dem Einflu\u00df dieser modernen Wirklichkeitsdichtung zur entscheidenden Lebenszeit entstand in uns diejenige Geschmackslinie, die f\u00fcrs Leben entschieden hat. Im Zeitalter der genialsten Realpolitik herangebildet, trat uns hier die kr\u00e4ftigste Realpoesie entgegen. Aus Handel und Wandel des allt\u00e4glichen Lebens, aus Gesch\u00e4ft und Arbeit sahen wir eine Dichtkunst aufsteigen, die uns um so tiefer ergriff, je weniger uns die Epigonen Schillers oder die vertrocknete Nachromantik gen\u00fcgten. Es war eine Lust zu leben, solange Schiller und Goethe schufen, es war eine Lust zu leben, solange die Romantik bl\u00fchte \u2013 nun war es wieder eine Lust zu leben, denn mit uns lebte ein Dichter, der den Inhalt unserer Zeit in eigene H\u00e4nde nahm. Was galt uns Schillers Floskel \u00bbEhret die Frauen, sie flechten und weben\u00ab gegen\u00fcber der wundervoll schlichten, ersch\u00fctternden kleinen Szene zwischen den beiden alten Jungfern Marta und Lona, die ihre Liebsten ins Gl\u00fcck hinaussenden und sich selbst mit dem Nachsehen begn\u00fcgen und mit \u00fcberwundenen Schmerzen. Solche zwei Tanten, die waren zu was Besserem da als zu Strickstr\u00fcmpfen und Kaffeekochen. Die gingen der Jugend ans Herz. Denn sie wu\u00dften, wann sie helfen und wann sie weichen sollten. \u00bbDer Junge sehnte sich unausgesetzt danach, auf eigenen F\u00fc\u00dfen zu stehen. Darum redete ich ihm ein, ich litte an Heimweh,\u00ab sagt die eine, und die andere sagt: \u00bbSollt' ich ihm nicht das Gl\u00fcck zuf\u00fchren, wenn ich ihn liebte?\u00ab Welch herrlicher Optimismus! Welch ein Zutrauen in die Wandelkraft echter Liebe! Und dann der siegende Schlu\u00df: der Mann, der sich vor den Frauen, die Frau, die sich vor den Idealen beugt! Vielleicht mu\u00df man dies als etwas Neues, Unerwartetes in jungen Jahren aufgenommen haben, um von diesem Werk und seinem Dichter nie wieder los zu kommen, um Henrik Ibsen bei allen Wandlungen seines Auges f\u00fcr einen unersch\u00fctterlichen Idealisten zu halten.\n\nGro\u00df und ungeheuer war die Spannung, mit der unter diesen Umst\u00e4nden das n\u00e4chste Werk erwartet wurde. Es kam 1879. Das St\u00fcck, das damals so viel Streit und Entr\u00fcstung erregte und jetzt von allen Ibsenschen Werken das bekannteste und anerkannteste ist, hei\u00dft nicht \u00bbNora\u00ab, wie seit der ersten schlechten \u00dcbersetzung f\u00e4lschlicherweise der Titel war; sondern _\u00bbEin Puppenheim\u00ab._ Der Name der Frau ist das Gleichg\u00fcltige. Das Wichtige ist ihr Schicksal. F\u00fcr Schicksal und Wesen der Hauptgestalt hat Ibsen ein direktes Vorbild gehabt: ein Wesen, das Ibsen unter dem Eindruck starker Zeitstr\u00f6mungen zwanglos zu einem sozialen Typus wurde. Die Frau weilt noch im Leben; ihren und ihres Helmer Namen nennen, hie\u00dfe alte Wunden aufrei\u00dfen (s. den ersten Entwurf zum Puppenheim in der \u00bbNeuen Rundschau\u00ab, Dezemberheft 1906).\n\nDas Weib, das die M\u00e4nner als Puppe behandeln, \u2013 wie sich dieses Weib zu einem denkenden Menschen entpuppt, der nach Selbst\u00e4ndigkeit und eigener Verantwortlichkeit trachtet, ist der Inhalt dieses Entwicklungsdramas, das am meisten Befremden und Ansto\u00df bei den Damen erregt hat, obwohl es als Verherrlichung der Frau, als eine Verteidigung ihrer Rechte in der Ehe und dem Gatten gegen\u00fcber gelten darf. Von den Gesellschaftsproblemen geht Ibsen hier intimer zum Problem der Ehe \u00fcber, das ihm schon w\u00e4hrend seiner Arbeit am \u00bbBund der Jugend\u00ab n\u00e4her trat. Wenn Fjeldbo dort sein T\u00e4ubchen vor dem Habicht sch\u00fctzen, aber nicht \u00e4ngstigen will (s. o. S. CIX), wehrt sich in demselben St\u00fcck die junge Frau Selma Bratsberg, die durch eigene k\u00fcnstlerische Begabung die Berufsf\u00e4higkeit des Weibes beweisen k\u00f6nnte, sehr entschieden dagegen, da\u00df das Weib nur ein schm\u00fcckendes Spielzeug des Mannes sein soll, nur eine \u00bbM\u00e4rchenprinzessin\u00ab, die blo\u00df auf ihren Prinzen zu warten hat (ein Camilla Collettscher Gedanke). Als der Ernst des Lebens schwer herantritt, str\u00e4ubt sie sich, nur Trostmittel eines Gatten zu sein, der nie ein Opfer von ihr gefordert hatte, dem sie nicht gut genug war, auch nur das kleinste mitzuertragen: \u00bbWie hab' ich nicht ged\u00fcrstet nach einem Tropfen Eurer Sorgen! Doch wenn ich bat, so habt Ihr immer nur mit einem leichten Scherz mich abgewiesen. Ihr zogt mich an wie eine Puppe; Ihr spieltet mit mir, wie man mit einem Kinde spielt. Und ich h\u00e4tte doch mit heller Freude Schweres getragen; ich hatte eine ernste Sehnsucht nach allem, was da st\u00fcrmt und emporhebt und erh\u00f6ht.\u00ab W\u00e4hrend schon hier das Puppenheim, freilich nur episodisch und ganz \u00e4u\u00dferlich eingepfercht, vorspukt, kehrt im \u00bbPuppenheim\u00ab selbst das Bild vom Habicht und dem T\u00e4ubchen wieder. Als Torvald Helmer seiner Gattin Nora die pia fraus der Urkundenf\u00e4lschung \u00bbverziehen\u00ab hat, will er sie halten wie eine verfolgte Taube, die er den m\u00f6rderischen Krallen des Habichts entrissen habe. Nora Helmer aber, durch Erfahrung klug und klar geworden, sch\u00e4mt sich ihrer Schutzbed\u00fcrftigkeit; das T\u00e4ubchen will fortan sich selbst wehren und sch\u00fctzen und, wenn sie das nicht kann, lieber verderben. Wie Selma Bratsberg, so will auch Nora Helmer nicht l\u00e4nger als Spielzeug behandelt werden.\n\nDa\u00df sie einer selbst\u00e4ndigen Tat, einer Opfertat der Liebe f\u00e4hig ist, bewies schon der fromme Betrug, durch den sie ihrem Gatten das Leben gerettet hat. Nun f\u00fchlt sie nicht blo\u00df das Bed\u00fcrfnis, sondern die Pflicht gegen sich selbst, Welt, Menschen, Leben, nicht am wenigsten sich selbst mit eigenen Sinnen zu erkennen, zu pr\u00fcfen, zu beurteilen und danach ihr Handeln einzurichten. Dazu kann ihr am wenigsten der Mann helfen, den sie jahrelang zu lieben w\u00e4hnte, weil sie ihn einer gleichen Opfertat der Liebe f\u00fcr f\u00e4hig hielt, wie sich selbst, und den sie nun nach der gro\u00dfen Entt\u00e4uschung nicht mehr lieben kann. Da\u00df sie sich in dem, der ihr zun\u00e4chst stand, so schmerzlich irren konnte, beweist ihr selbst, wie wenig sie von Welt und Leben kennt, wie viel sie erst zu lernen hat. Sie verl\u00e4\u00dft den Mann, der ihr pl\u00f6tzlich fremd geworden ist und fremd werden mu\u00dfte, trotzdem sie dadurch zugleich drei geliebte kleine Kinder verl\u00e4\u00dft. Das ist es, was ihr manche Damen nicht verzeihen k\u00f6nnen. Sie nennen es lieblos, herzlos, gewissenlos. M\u00fctter, die tanzen gehen, w\u00e4hrend daheim ein Kind fiebert, werfen Steine auf diese S\u00fcnderin, der beim Gedanken an ihre schlafenden Kinder, als sie dem Vater dieser Kinder den Trauring zur\u00fcckgibt, das Herz brechen m\u00f6chte. Denn was sie von den Kindern gewaltsam wegzieht, ist gerade ihr erwachtes Gewissen. Eine Taube, die sich nicht selbst vor dem Habicht sch\u00fctzen kann, wird auch ihre T\u00e4ubchen nicht sch\u00fctzen k\u00f6nnen. Eine Puppe, die mit ihren P\u00fcppchen spielt, ist keine Erzieherin des heranwachsenden Menschengeschlechts, und Noras Lug und Trug, so fromm der Zweck war, sind kein gutes Beispiel f\u00fcr werdende M\u00e4nner. Das hat ihr ja der korrekte, zielbewu\u00dfte, mit edlem Ma\u00df f\u00fcr alles Wahre, Gute, Sch\u00f6ne eingenommene Gemahl \u00fcberdeutlich genug zu verstehen gegeben. Obwohl er sonst nicht modernen Anschauungen zug\u00e4nglich ist, h\u00e4lt der Herr Bankdirektor etwas von Vererbung und hat seinem \u00bbEichh\u00f6rnchen\u00ab, seiner \u00bbLerche\u00ab, seinem \u00bbSingv\u00f6gelchen\u00ab oft genug vorgeworfen, da\u00df sie eigentlich ein lockerer Zeisig sei, die leichtsinnige Tochter eines leichtsinnigen Vaters. Sie wei\u00df: er empfindet ein k\u00f6rperliches Unbehagen in der N\u00e4he von schuldbeladenen Menschen, die selbst vor Frau und Kindern die Maske der Heuchelei tragen m\u00fcssen und in die eigene Familie eine Atmosph\u00e4re bringen, erf\u00fcllt von Keimen irgend einer b\u00f6sen Tat. Das alles hat sie von ihm geh\u00f6rt, und auch den Wahrspruch des erfahrenen Advokaten: \u00bbFast alle fr\u00fch verdorbenen Menschen haben l\u00fcgenhafte M\u00fctter gehabt.\u00ab Nun sieht sie ihren Ivar, ihr Bobchen, ihre kleine Emmy \u2013 der furchtbare Gedanke macht sie bleich vor Schrecken: \u00bbIch meine Kleinen verderben \u2013! Unser Heim vergiften?\u00ab Dieser fremde Gedanke ist es, der selbst wie ein Gift in sie einging und in ihr wirkt! Da\u00df sie log und betrog, f\u00e4lschte und verbrach, da\u00df sie Schuldgef\u00e4hrte eines Zuchthauskandidaten ist, wei\u00df sie nun. Ihr naives Gef\u00fchl, auf das sie sich bisher allein verlie\u00df, ist nun verwirrt. Sie sieht nur einen Ausweg: weg von den Kindern eines entfremdeten Mannes, denen sie nicht mehr sein darf, was sie bisher war, und noch nicht sein kann, was sie sein soll. Darum verl\u00e4\u00dft sie den Mann, der es in schwerer, schicksalvoller Stunde verscherzt, ihr F\u00fchrer zu sein.\n\nIhr F\u00fchrer! Will die entschlossene, nach Selbst\u00e4ndigkeit, nach Freiheit ringende Frau noch einen F\u00fchrer? O wie gern! Der sterbende Doktor Rank, der auch ein froheres, sch\u00f6neres, kraftvolleres Leben f\u00fcr sie eben so freudig geopfert h\u00e4tte, wie sein armes Siechtum \u2013 er w\u00e4re ihr als F\u00fchrer recht gewesen. Der eigene Gatte kann es am wenigsten sein. Denn als sein Innerstes zum ersten und einzigen Mal ganz offen vor ihr lag, sah sie an dem wohlgesitteten Sch\u00f6ngeist, dem alles Gemeine, alles H\u00e4\u00dfliche, alles Kr\u00e4nkliche widerw\u00e4rtig war, das feige Herz eines rohen Egoisten, und sah ihn selbst in seiner kl\u00e4glichen Angst zu allen jenen kleinen elenden K\u00fcnsten der Verstellung, der Vertuschung, der Verheimlichung bereit, die er bei Leuten wie Krogstad pharis\u00e4erhaft verdammt hatte. So \u00fcberkommt sie selbst in der N\u00e4he eines solchen Menschen ein k\u00f6rperliches Unbehagen, und sie ist getrennt von dem Manne, dem nun doch das fehlt, was sie das Wunderbare nennt (ein Lieblingsausdruck Noras, dem sie bei ihrer Schicksalswende h\u00f6chsten Inhalt gibt): der freie Opfermut einer gro\u00dfen Liebestat.\n\nStarke Schauspielerinnen wie Marie Ramlo, Eleonora Duse und Johanna Dybwad, k\u00f6nnen die Entwicklung der Noraseele verst\u00e4ndlich machen. Man mu\u00df sie von allem Anfang an wachsen sehen. Das Kind wird zum Weibe, das Weib zur Priesterin. Am wenigsten darf die Nora der Schlu\u00dfszene, wie es oft auf den Theatern vorkommt, als Sprachrohr des Dichters erscheinen. Sie ist ein Wesen f\u00fcr sich, dessen Gewissen geweckt wird durch die pl\u00f6tzliche Einsicht in eigene Schwachheit. Nora wuchs \u00fcber den Typus hinaus. Zahllose Frauen machen in der Ehe fr\u00fcher oder sp\u00e4ter Noras Erfahrungen, aber sie folgen nicht Noras Beispiele. Sie halten aus und halten Haus beim \u00bbfremden Mann\u00ab. Und auch in diesem Aushalten liegt eine sittliche Pflichterf\u00fcllung.\n\nAber gerade sie werden Noras Tun verstehen und im stillen Martyrtum ihr den Mut, sich zu befreien, neiden. Man sei um der lieben Weltordnung willen froh, da\u00df sich die anderen Frauen in gleicher Lage f\u00fcgen, und sei um des ungeschriebenen Rechtes der freien und reinen Empfindung willen noch froher, da\u00df eine einzige Frau es gibt, deren Gef\u00fchl sich \u00fcber die Weltordnung erhebt. Das ist Ibsens Nora. Sie ist eine Ausnahme und m\u00f6ge es bleiben. Aber diese Ausnahme ist notwendiger als die Regel selbst.\n\nZwei Jahre nach dem \u00bbPuppenheim\u00ab erschienen 1881 die _\u00bbGespenster\u00ab._ Wie so h\u00e4ufig bei Ibsen, wuchs das neue Werk aus einer Episode des vorhergegangenen heraus. Was zun\u00e4chst nebens\u00e4chlich ber\u00fchrt war, wird nun zur Hauptsache. Das Problem der Erbkrankheit wird im \u00bbPuppenheim\u00ab gestreift, in den \u00bbGespenstern\u00ab durchgef\u00fchrt. Doktor Rank mu\u00dfte f\u00fcr das lustige Leutnantsleben seines Vaters mit einer R\u00fcckenmarkschwindsucht b\u00fc\u00dfen. Nun steht Osvald Alving vor uns \u2013 wiederum eines lustigen Leutnants wurmstichiger Sohn \u2013 und fleht seine Mutter an, ihn von dem jammervollen Leben, das sie ihm gegeben hat, zu befreien. Sein Schicksal ist der Gegenstand dieses Meisterst\u00fccks aller modernen Trag\u00f6dien. Aber Osvald ist nicht der tragische Held. Er ist weniger ein Lebewesen als ein Sterbewesen; wir lernen weniger seine Pers\u00f6nlichkeit als sein Mi\u00dfgeschick kennen. In diesem Halbdunkel seiner Leidensgestalt liegt keine Schw\u00e4che der Dichtung, sondern eine wohlerwogene, k\u00fcnstlerische Absicht; denn als Held des Dramas sollte nicht der Sohn, sondern die Mutter dieses Sohnes hervortreten. Diese Heldin aber, diese Mutter lernen wir aus- und inwendig kennen; nicht nur in dem, was sie gerade erlebt, sondern aus ihrer ganzen \u00e4u\u00dferen und inneren Vergangenheit.\n\nVor drei\u00dfig Jahren wuchs in der Obhut seiner verwitweten Mutter, der zwei unverm\u00e4hlte Tanten bei der Erziehung halfen, ein junges M\u00e4dchen heran. Helene war arm und sch\u00f6n. Ihr n\u00e4herten sich zwei M\u00e4nner, ein herzensfrommer Theolog und ein sinnenfroher Offizier. Jenem geh\u00f6rte ihre stille Neigung, dieser mi\u00dffiel ihr nicht; da die Mutter, auch die Tanten gut zuredeten, beging sie eine S\u00fcnde gegen ihr eigenes Herz und heiratete nicht den armen Pastor Manders, sondern den reichen Leutnant Alving. Noch bevor sie ein Kind zur Welt bringt, hat sie erkannt, da\u00df ihr Gatte schlimmer ist als sein Ruf. Der jungen Frau ekelt es vor seiner N\u00e4he, in seiner Gesellschaft. Eines Tages fl\u00fcchtet sie zu dem, den ihre Seele liebt, der sie still verehrt, aber nie begehrt hatte. Pastor Manders bleibt seines Amtes und seiner Sittenstrenge in der versuchungschweren Stunde w\u00fcrdig. Statt das schutzflehende Weib liebend zu behalten, f\u00fchrt er sie liebevoll zur\u00fcck zu ihrer Frauenpflicht. Damit glaubt er ein Gott und den Menschen wohlgef\u00e4lliges Werk zu tun. Was wir von Nora Helmer nicht wissen, wissen wir von Helene Alving. Sie kommt wieder, und sie gebiert ihm einen Sohn. Alving wird durch den Fluchtversuch der Frau nicht zur Besinnung gebracht; vielleicht erfuhr er nie davon; er fr\u00f6nt immer gr\u00f6beren L\u00fcsten. Aber auch mit der Frau geht es auf der Bahn, die sie einmal betreten hat, unaufhaltsam vorw\u00e4rts. Noch immer sieht sie sich im Dienste der Pflicht. Sie will dem heranwachsenden Knaben die Ehrfurcht vor seinem Vater nicht rauben. Zu diesem Zweck spinnt sie, wie Nora, ein Netz frommer L\u00fcgen. Sie h\u00e4uft Reicht\u00fcmer, w\u00e4hrend ihr Mann, dem das Verdienst daran zuerkannt wird, in Wahrheit faulenzt und schwelgt. Den Knaben, ihr Gl\u00fcck, hat sie fr\u00fch von sich gegeben; er soll die Wahrheit nicht wissen, denn er soll seinen Vater ehren. So vergehen Jahre. Alvings Reichtum, Alvings Ansehen wuchs durch die hei\u00dfe Arbeit der heldenm\u00fctigen Frau. Aus dem Leutnant ist l\u00e4ngst ein Hauptmann, aus dem Hauptmann l\u00e4ngst ein Kammerherr geworden. Aber mit der Kammerherrnw\u00fcrde kommt ihm nicht die Mannesw\u00fcrde. Eines Tages ertappt ihn seine Frau, wie er ihr eigenes Dienstm\u00e4dchen zu verf\u00fchren sucht. Die Liebschaft kommt zustande und hat Folgen. Johanna wird weggeschickt und verh\u00fcllt ihren Fall durch rasche Verheiratung mit einem schlechten Subjekt. Sie ist schon Frau Tischler Engstrand, als sie einer Tochter das Leben gibt. Nachdem sie, ihre Schuld b\u00fc\u00dfend, durch den rohen Mann zu Tode gepeinigt ist, hat Helene Alving Seelengr\u00f6\u00dfe genug, das nat\u00fcrliche Kind ihres Mannes nicht dem verwahrlosten Scheinvater zu lassen. Sie nimmt Regine in ihr Haus. W\u00e4hrend der rechtm\u00e4\u00dfige Sohn ausw\u00e4rts heranw\u00e4chst, erzieht sie den Wildling fast wie ihre eigene Tochter.\n\nNach fast zwanzigj\u00e4hriger Ehe stirbt Alving; die Welt betrauert einen Ehrenmann. Der Frau ist ihr frommer Betrug gelungen, sie will nun noch ein Letztes tun. Alles, was einst Leutnant Alving an Verm\u00f6gen besa\u00df, was ihn in den Augen der Tanten und der Mutter zu einer guten Partie machte, will sie in Geldeswert ausdr\u00fccken; f\u00fcr diese Summe will sie ein Asyl gr\u00fcnden, das den Namen ihres verstorbenen Mannes verewigen soll. Der wahre Grund zu diesem Entschlu\u00df ist ein doppelter: in ihrem Sohne soll die Ehrfurcht vor dem Vater unersch\u00fcttert bleiben; dann aber soll er alles, was er einst an irdischen Gl\u00fccksg\u00fctern erben wird, nur ihr verdanken, ihrem rastlosen Flei\u00df, ihrem harten Kampf, dem ganzen Opfer ihres Lebens.\n\n\u00bbKammerherr Alvings Asyl\u00ab steht nun unter Dach und Fach. Morgen soll es geweiht werden. Der junge Osvald ist aus Paris zur scheinfrommen Feier in die Heimat zur\u00fcckgekehrt. Auch Pastor Manders, der sich seit jener Stunde der Versuchung lange Jahre vom Hause Alving fern gehalten hat, ist eingetroffen, um das neue Asyl unter seine geistliche Hut zu nehmen. Regine ist nach wie vor im Hause, nicht eben Tochter, nicht eben Magd. Endlich ist auch noch Reginens vermeintlicher Vater, der Tischler Engstrand, in der N\u00e4he. Er hat die Tischlerarbeiten f\u00fcr das Asyl besorgt. Das Drama kann beginnen. Der Dichter geht analytisch vor. Gespensterhafte Schatten wirft eine lange Vergangenheit auf die Vorg\u00e4nge eines einzigen Sonnenlaufs. Aus dem Zimmer, wo sich vom Vormittag bis zum n\u00e4chsten Morgen alles zutr\u00e4gt, blickt man durch ein breites Gartenfenster auf das Hochgebirge der norwegischen K\u00fcste. Aber es liegt grau verh\u00fcllt in tr\u00fcbem Nebel; erst zuletzt entschleiert die aufgehende Sonne Gipfel auf Gipfel. So liegen von Anfang an \u00fcber den Geschehnissen im St\u00fcck dichte Schleier; eine wunderbar feine K\u00fcnstlerhand l\u00fcftet H\u00fclle um H\u00fclle. Alle Vorbedingungen des tragischen Endes geh\u00f6ren vergangener Zeit. Es wird erz\u00e4hlt, was geschah. Aber nichts wird des Publikums wegen berichtet. Was f\u00fcr die Zuschauer neu, \u00fcberraschend, \u00fcberw\u00e4ltigend ist, \u00fcberrascht und \u00fcberw\u00e4ltigt auch eine der f\u00fcnf handelnden Personen. Pastor Manders erf\u00e4hrt im ersten Akt, da\u00df er Helene durch jene fromme und opferwillige Zur\u00fcckf\u00fchrung zur ehelichen Pflicht einem Unw\u00fcrdigen auslieferte. Helene erf\u00e4hrt im zweiten Akt, da\u00df sie ihren Sohn zwar vor dem materiellen Erbe seines Vaters sch\u00fctzen konnte, aber nicht vor einem allertraurigsten Erbteil, welches im Blute wuchert. Regine erf\u00e4hrt im dritten Akt, da\u00df sie eines vornehmen Mannes nat\u00fcrliche Tochter ist und die Stiefschwester Osvalds, mit dessen Verliebtheit ihr kalter Anspruch auf Gl\u00fcck und Glanz t\u00f6richt-schlau gerechnet hatte. Endlich \u2013 und damit schlie\u00dft das St\u00fcck \u2013 erkennt Frau Alving, da\u00df ihr Sohn ein unrettbares Opfer der physischen Erbs\u00fcnde ist. In steter Steigerung bereitet sich dieses Ende durch die mannigfachsten Motive, durch Erregungen aller Art, vor: durch Heimkehr und Wiedersehen, durch lang verhaltene Brunst, durch das furchtbare Gest\u00e4ndnis, welches Osvald der Mutter macht, durch Aufregungen und Anstrengungen bei der Ein\u00e4scherung des v\u00e4terlichen Asyls, dem er die symbolischen Worte nachruft: \u00bbAlles wird abbrennen. Nichts bleibt \u00fcbrig von dem, was an Vater erinnert. Ich verbrenne ja auch\u00ab; zuletzt durch die Erkenntnis, da\u00df die Geliebte seine Schwester, da\u00df sein verehrter Vater der Urheber seines Elends ist. Durch alles das kommt pl\u00f6tzlich die angeerbte Krankheit, welche dieses Geschick bildet, zum Ausbruch, und Osvald Alving verlangt nach der Sonne, wie ein Kind nach dem Spielball. Die Sonne aber, dieses herrlichste Sinnbild der Hoffnung und des Glaubens, der Freude und der Kraft, die schmerzlich und schwer in langen Nebelregentagen Vermi\u00dfte \u2013 endlich erscheint sie, aber ihr Strahl f\u00e4llt auf ein entgeistetes Gehirn.\n\nInnerhalb des St\u00fcckes reiht sich Erfahrung an Erfahrung, ihnen verdankt das St\u00fcck seine dramatische Spannkraft. Wie K\u00f6nig \u00d6dipus bei Sophokles erst auftritt, nachdem er l\u00e4ngst seinen Vater get\u00f6tet und seine Mutter zum Weibe genommen hat, so erscheint Frau Alving erst, nachdem sie l\u00e4ngst ihren Mann begraben und ihren Sohn hat gro\u00df werden lassen. Wie die Helden der antiken Trag\u00f6die gegen das Schicksal vergeblich ank\u00e4mpfen, so k\u00e4mpft Frau Alving vergeblich gegen die Macht des Blutes und der sozialen Verh\u00e4ltnisse. So sehr aber der Dichter von der Unfreiheit des Willens ausgeht, so f\u00fchrt er doch seine Heldin nicht ohne deren eigene Verschuldung in ihr Ungl\u00fcck. Er fragt sie: warum gabst Du nach und lie\u00dfest Dich gegen die Stimme Deiner Brust zu dem verleiten, was kurzsichtige N\u00fcchternheit als gute Versorgung preist? Als Du aus Gr\u00fcnden vernunftm\u00e4\u00dfiger \u00dcberlegung dem Geliebten den Courmacher vorzogst, log Dein Herz \u2013; Du hast es mit einer Schuld beladen. Die eine Schuld gebar die zweite. Du \u00fcberh\u00f6rtest zum zweitenmal die Stimme Deiner Brust \u2013; Du folgtest dem Gebot eines allgemeinen Pflichtbegriffs. Du durftest niemals wieder zur\u00fcckkehren zu dem Manne, den Du ein Recht hattest zu verabscheuen. Es war eine L\u00fcge, da\u00df Du noch l\u00e4nger sein Weib bliebst und ihm Gattenrechte gabst. Eine gesetzm\u00e4\u00dfige Ehe, die nicht auf gegenseitiger Achtung und Liebe ruht, ist unkeusch und unheiliger, als eine wilde Ehe, die gegen die \u00dcbermacht der Lebensumst\u00e4nde Liebe und Achtung geschlossen haben. Man nennt das St\u00fcck seiner d\u00fcsteren Farbe wegen pessimistisch. Zwar ist das Ende jammervoll: die Mutter ist nahe daran, ihr Kind mit eigener Hand zu t\u00f6ten, um es von der Last seines verlorenen Daseins zu erl\u00f6sen. Zwar h\u00e4ngt dieses Menschenschicksal aufs innigste zusammen mit den allgemeinen Zust\u00e4nden der Welt, die der Dichter nicht von ihrer besten Seite zeigt. Aber es wird deutlich ausgesprochen, da\u00df es sich hier um Zust\u00e4nde einer bestimmten Welt handelt, wie sie Ibsen in den Verh\u00e4ltnissen seiner norwegischen Heimat durchschaut hat, in Verh\u00e4ltnissen, die ihn selbst ins Ausland trieben. Der Dichter dachte wohl bisweilen, wie sein Osvald: \u00bbSo oft ich auch in der Heimat war, nie erinnere ich mich, Sonnenschein gesehen zu haben.\u00ab Und nun h\u00f6re man, was vom Ausland Osvald Alving erz\u00e4hlt. Er schildert ein Paradies. Er will dieses Paradies auf seinen Gem\u00e4lden auch k\u00fcnstlerisch festgehalten haben: \u00bbMutter, ist es Dir nicht aufgefallen, da\u00df es sich bei allem, was ich gemalt habe, um die Lebensfreude gehandelt hat? Stets und st\u00e4ndig um die Lebensfreude. Da sind Licht und Sonnenschein und Sonntagsluft \u2013 und strahlende, vergn\u00fcgte Menschengesichter.\u00ab Nirgend anders als in Paris will Osvald dieses Arkadien gefunden haben, \u00bbdas sch\u00f6ne, das herrliche Leben der Freiheit\u00ab.\n\nViele, die in Paris waren, und denen Ibsens \u00bbGespenster\u00ab zu d\u00fcster sind, werden an die Existenz einer so hellen Welt und an die naive Lebensfreude, die darin herrschen soll, nicht glauben; sie werden \u00fcber eine solche utopistische Tr\u00e4umerei wohl gar l\u00e4cheln; dem immer etwas teuflischen Dichter war es zuzutrauen, da\u00df er auch selbst dr\u00fcber l\u00e4chelte. Dennoch glaubte er, wenn nicht an die Existenz einer helleren Welt, so doch an die M\u00f6glichkeit dieser Existenz. Er war ein Optimist, der desto greller das Weltelend beleuchtete, je fester er an die M\u00f6glichkeit des Guten glaubte. Dieselbe Frau Alving, die an ihrem Mann das Gr\u00e4\u00dflichste und Ekelste erlebte, \u2013 sobald sie vom Dasein eines sch\u00f6neren und freieren Lebens h\u00f6rt, sieht sie pl\u00f6tzlich, \u00bbden Zusammenhang\u00ab und empfindet mit Wehmut und mit Reue, da\u00df sogar ihr verabscheuter Gatte in einer sch\u00f6neren und freieren Lebenssph\u00e4re ein froher und edler Mensch h\u00e4tte sein k\u00f6nnen; und diese Heldin schiebt dann alle Schuld auf sich selbst; sie klagt sich selbst an, da\u00df sie ihm kein frohes Leben geschaffen habe.\n\nHelene Alving sieht den Zusammenhang, als es zu sp\u00e4t ist. Darin liegt ihre Tragik. Aber ihr Auge ist hell geworden; sie steigt in prophetischer Gestalt \u00fcber die Welt der anderen empor, \u00fcber die Welt der Manders und Engstrand, \u00fcber die Welt der naiven und der zielbewu\u00dften Inkarnation menschlicher Heuchelei, menschlicher Selbstsucht, menschlicher Feigheit im Kleinen und Kleinsten. Manders und Engstrand \u2013 hier steht Ibsens h\u00f6llische Charakterisierungsmacht auf ihrer ersten stolzen H\u00f6he; wie die Katze mit der Maus, so spielt der eine mit dem anderen: der gewitzte Proletarier mit dem studierten und wohlbeamteten Tropf, der brutale Scheinheilige mit dem zarten Frommen, der selber nicht ahnt, wie feig auch sein Herz, wie arm auch seine Welt, wie eng auch sein Sinn ist, und der im guten Glauben lebt, ein guter Mensch zu sein. Mit gleicher Vollendung, leibhaftig und lebendig hingeschaffen, steht Regine da, die verf\u00fchrerische Evastochter, gesund an Leib und Sinnen, und doch auch behaftet mit einem wilden Erbteil desselben \u00bbruchlosen\u00ab Vaters, der Osvalds Hirn verdorben hat. Auch ihr Weg wird der Weg des Verderbens sein. Und dasselbe Alvingsche Verm\u00f6gen, das dem Asyl dienen sollte, wird nach der omin\u00f6sen Feuersbrunst dank der Feigheit und Dummheit des guten Pastors Manders einem Seefahrerbordell dienen, worin Engstrand der Herbergsvater und Regine die Anziehungskraft sein werden. Aus S\u00fcnde geboren wird sie in S\u00fcnden untergehen, und ein Seelsorger ist es, der sie von Anfang bis zum Ende dieses Weges geleitet. Das ist das Hohngel\u00e4chter der H\u00f6lle, das durch diese Trag\u00f6die hallt und alle Gespenster im Lande weckt. Was Wunder, da\u00df dieses klassisch klare und klassisch tiefe Werk die landl\u00e4ufige Entr\u00fcstung erregte, die sich noch mehr gegen seinen Dichter erhob . Zun\u00e4chst und am wildesten in der norwegischen Heimat, die sich ganz besonders empfindlich getroffen f\u00fchlte. Ibsen mu\u00dfte sich dagegen verwahren, da\u00df Ausspr\u00fcche seiner Personen, wie etwa Frau Alvings \u00c4u\u00dferung \u00fcber die Geschwisterehe, ihm selbst untergeschoben wurden. In einem Brief an S. Schandorph (6. Jan. 1882) erkl\u00e4rt er: \u00bbMan sucht mich f\u00fcr die Ansichten verantwortlich zu machen, die einzelne Gestalten des Dramas aussprechen. Und doch steht in dem ganzen Buch nicht eine einzige Ansicht, nicht eine einzige \u00c4u\u00dferung, die auf Rechnung des Autors k\u00e4me. Davor habe ich mich wohl geh\u00fctet. Die Methode, die Art der Technik hat dem Verfasser ganz von selbst verboten, im Dialog zum Vorschein zu kommen. Meine Absicht war, beim Leser den Eindruck hervorzurufen, da\u00df er w\u00e4hrend des Lesens ein St\u00fcck Wirklichkeit erlebe. Nichts aber w\u00fcrde in h\u00f6herem Ma\u00dfe dieser Absicht entgegenarbeiten, als wenn Ansichten des Autors dem Dialog einverleibt w\u00fcrden.\u00ab Was aber Ibsen am heftigsten aufbrachte, war die Stellung der norwegischen Liberalen zu seinem Drama. Auf ihre Zustimmung hatte er gerechnet; und nun verhielt man sich lau oder gar feindlich. In einem Brief an Olaf Skavlan macht sich sein Grimm Luft: \u00bbDie letzte Zeit ist f\u00fcr mich reich an Erfahrungen, Lehren und Beobachtungen gewesen. Da\u00df mein neues Schauspiel ein Wutgeheul im Lager der Stagnationsm\u00e4nner hervorrufen w\u00fcrde, darauf war ich nat\u00fcrlich vorbereitet, und es ficht mich nur gerade so viel an, als ob ein Rudel Kettenhunde mir nachkl\u00e4ffte. Aber die Hasenherzigkeit, die ich auf seiten der sogenannten Liberalen wahrgenommen habe, hat mir so manches zu denken gegeben.\u00ab Allerdings stand die Linke gerade damals in einem harten politischen Kampf, und die gem\u00e4\u00dfigten christlichen Fraktionen der Partei konnten durch einen allzu gro\u00dfen Radikalismus leicht vor den Kopf gesto\u00dfen werden, \u2013 es galt die ganze Partei unzersplittert zusammenzuhalten. Diese Lage der Dinge war Ibsen nicht unbekannt; um so begreiflicher wird sein Ha\u00df gegen alles Parteiwesen.\n\nIbsen wurde von seinen Freunden nahegelegt, \u00f6ffentlich zu protestieren sowohl gegen das \u00bbWutgeheul\u00ab der Politiker wie gegen die Anw\u00fcrfe der Kunstrezensenten. Mit \u00fcberlegener Geberde lehnte er die Zumutung ab. Es war seines Wesens nicht, mit den Ver\u00e4chtern seiner Dichtungen zu streiten. Die Roheit der Kritik an sich lie\u00df ihn gleichg\u00fcltig. Er war K\u00fcnstler und handelte auch in solchen F\u00e4llen nur als K\u00fcnstler. Sein Protest war ein Drama. \u00bb _Ein Volksfeind_ \u00ab war der Held. Schon 1882 war er damit fertig. Als er die Feder ansetzte, stand er auch schon dichterisch \u00fcber seinen Erlebnissen. Er schrieb mit heiterer Seele; schon beim ersten Anfang spricht er von einem \u00bbfriedfertigen\u00ab St\u00fcck, das \u00bbvon Staatsr\u00e4ten und Gro\u00dfh\u00e4ndlern und ihren Damen gelesen werden kann\u00ab (an F. Hegel, 16. M\u00e4rz 1882). Und weiter in einem Brief (an Hegel) vom 9. Sept. hei\u00dft es: \u00bbDie Besch\u00e4ftigung mit dieser Arbeit hat mir Spa\u00df gemacht, und ich empfinde etwas wie eine Sehnsucht und eine Leere jetzt, wo ich damit fertig bin. Der Doktor Stockmann und ich kamen so vortrefflich miteinander aus. Wir harmonieren in so mancher Beziehung: aber der Doktor ist ein gr\u00f6\u00dferer Wirrkopf als ich und hat au\u00dferdem verschiedene andere Eigent\u00fcmlichkeiten, denen man verschiedene \u00c4u\u00dferungen aus seinem Munde zugute halten wird, die man am Ende nicht so ganz ruhig hingenommen h\u00e4tte, wenn ich sie vorgebracht h\u00e4tte.\u00ab\n\nDoktor Stockmann ist in seinem Berufe als Arzt gebildet und praktisch, in mittleren Jahren, voll Feuer und Leben, im Genusse froh und fr\u00f6hlich mit anderen, lieb und freundlich gegen seine brave Frau; in seiner hochherzigen Tochter Freigeist und Freimut n\u00e4hrend, seine Knaben nicht zu Duckm\u00e4usern erziehend, das Gute liebend, das Schlechte hassend, ein idealistischer Hitzkopf, in dem treffliche Ideen und vage Phantasterei beisammen wohnen, schnell erregt und bald vers\u00f6hnt, jedermann mit fast naivem Vertrauen begegnend, aber aufbrausend und leicht sich selbst vergessend, wenn er dieses Vertrauen get\u00e4uscht sieht; wo andere verzagen m\u00f6chten, bald w\u00fctend, bald zuversichtlich, halb Choleriker halb Sanguiniker, ohne eine Spur von Melancholie \u2013 wie alle Phantasten seines Schlages hat er nie auf den gr\u00fcnen Zweig kommen k\u00f6nnen.\n\nSeit kurzer Zeit ist dieser Mann in seiner Vaterstadt durch Protektion seines Bruders, des Stadtvogts, als Badearzt angestellt. Eine neue Badeanstalt ist eingerichtet. Floriert sie, so floriert der Arzt \u2013 und die Zukunft des Doktors ist doppelt gesichert. Da entdeckt er, da\u00df das angebliche Heilwasser gifthaltig ist. Er beweist es in einer Denkschrift. Er verlangt eine andere Wasserleitung, andere Einrichtungen. Den Aktion\u00e4ren ist das zu kostspielig, den Stadtv\u00e4tern zu bedenklich, sie wollen die Sache totschweigen, voran Bruder Stadtvogt, ihr Wortf\u00fchrer. Dagegen emp\u00f6rt sich das Gewissen des Arztes und des Patrioten. Er will zu den B\u00fcrgern sprechen, er will seine Denkschrift im Lokalblatt abdrucken, Bruder Stadtvogt wiegelt Redakteure und Verleger gegen ihn auf; er will sie \u00f6ffentlich verlesen, Bruder Stadtvogt verschlie\u00dft ihm die \u00f6ffentlichen S\u00e4le; er beruft seine Mitb\u00fcrger in ein Privathaus; Bruder Stadtvogt und sein Anhang schneiden ihm das Wort ab: Da braust der Hitzkopf auf. Statt der angek\u00fcndigten fachm\u00e4nnisch sachverst\u00e4ndigen Vorlesung h\u00e4lt er eine donnernde Stegreifrede gegen die Dummheit der \u00bbkompakten Majorit\u00e4t\u00ab und gegen die teuflische Engherzigkeit ihrer F\u00fchrer. Die F\u00fchrer und die Majorit\u00e4t sitzen vor ihm. Er wird immer aufrichtiger, heftiger, gr\u00f6ber. Es ist eine ihm selbst ganz neue Weisheit, die er dem P\u00f6bel gegen den P\u00f6bel predigt. Man murrt, man zischt, man pfeift. Man entzieht ihm das Wort; mit knapper Not kommt er und seine Familie nach Hause. Nun zeigen sich Schlag auf Schlag die Folgen. Der Verwaltungsrat entl\u00e4\u00dft ihn, die Patienten schaffen ihn ab, der Wirt k\u00fcndigt, die Tochter wird ihrer Stellung als Lehrerin enthoben, die Knaben werden aus der Schule geschickt. Noch eins kommt hinzu. Der Schwiegervater, ein alter Filz und Gegner der herrschenden Stadtverwaltung, hat s\u00e4mtliche Aktien der berufenen Badeanstalt aufgekauft und bietet sie dem Doktor als Erbteil seiner Frau und seiner Kinder an. Nun wird doch der Doktor als guter Familienvater Vernunft annehmen und Ruhe geben. Indessen der Doktor bew\u00e4hrt sich noch einmal als Mann von Ehre. Er weist nicht ohne einen kurzen, aber herben inneren Kampf das anr\u00fcchige Erbteil zur\u00fcck; in der Stadt aber l\u00e4uft das Ger\u00fccht um, der Doktor habe gestern aus Eigennutz gehandelt, damit die Aktien fallen. Diese Auffassung ist den Philistern einleuchtender und n\u00e4hert sie wieder dem Doktor. Ein Mann, der eigenn\u00fctzig ist, mu\u00df respektiert werden. Der Doktor verbittet sich diesen Respekt. Nun hat er durch den Verlust des Erbteils alles verloren. Ihm \u00f6ffnet sich nur die Zuflucht in das Haus eines einzigen Freundes. Und was will er dort? Seine S\u00f6hne und einige Stra\u00dfenjungen will er dort zu freien und vornehmen M\u00e4nnern, zu B\u00fcrgern des dritten Reiches heranziehen: \u00bbDann werdet Ihr alle Isegrims nach dem fernen Westen jagen, Ihr Jungens!\u00ab Die Isegrims, die hungrigen W\u00f6lfe, die St\u00fcck f\u00fcr St\u00fcck das Kleinvieh auffressen, sind die Parteih\u00e4uptlinge. Gegen diesen Entr\u00fcstungsoptimismus hat Frau Stockmann doch ihre hausm\u00fctterlichen Bedenken. Auch dem \u00e4lteren Knaben will es nicht ganz einleuchten. Der j\u00fcngere aber schreit Hurra, und die Tochter sieht vertrauensvoll auf den Vater, auch da er nun ausruft: \u00bbJetzt bin ich einer der st\u00e4rksten M\u00e4nner der Welt.\u00ab Das entlockt nun auch dem kleinen Hurraschreier einen Ruf der Verwunderung. Nun sammelt der Volksfeind alle seine Lieben um sich und raunt ihnen sein gro\u00dfes Geheimnis zu: \u00bbDer ist der st\u00e4rkste Mann der Welt, der allein steht.\u00ab Die Knaben schweigen, die Mutter l\u00e4chelt und sch\u00fcttelt den Kopf. Nur Petras Vertrauen bleibt felsenfest. Sie fa\u00dft mutig des Vaters H\u00e4nde. Sie wird standhalten bei ihm. Eine andere Antigone wird sie den armen alten blinden verlassenen R\u00e4tsell\u00f6ser durch diese dunkelste der Welten f\u00fchren.\n\nIn einer F\u00fclle lebendiger Figuren stellt sich diese dunkelste der Welten dar, die enge Welt des kleinst\u00e4dtischen Spie\u00dfb\u00fcrgertums. Man braucht nicht aus Norwegen zu stammen, um diese Welt, in der aus Gem\u00e4chlichkeit Dummheit, aus Dummheit Verlogenheit entsteht, zu kennen. Der Seelsorger dieser Welt hei\u00dft Pastor Manders oder so \u00e4hnlich, der Rechtsanwalt dieser Leute hei\u00dft Torvald Helmer oder so \u00e4hnlich. Beide k\u00f6nnten in diesem St\u00fcck ebensogut wieder auftreten, wie der Vertreter der st\u00e4rksten Gro\u00dfmacht dieser Welt, Herr Buchdrucker Aslaksen, aus dem \u00bbBund der Jugend\u00ab hier wieder zum Vorschein kommt.\n\nEs ist ein M\u00e4nnerst\u00fcck; nur zwei Frauen stehen im Hintergrund des M\u00e4nnerstreits. Aber sie sind doch die St\u00e4rksten im St\u00fcck. Frau Kate \u00fcberwindet all ihre hausm\u00fctterlichen Sorgen und \u00c4ngste, wo sie f\u00fchlt, da\u00df ihrem Mann Unrecht geschieht, und findet in aller Not und Pein den herrlichen Mut, diesen K\u00e4mpfer um Recht und Wahrheit noch zu best\u00e4rken; und Petra, die Tochter, tr\u00e4gt in ihrer unbeirrbaren Zuversicht, da\u00df das Rechte zu tun, das Schlechte zu lassen sei, das heimliche Palladium des Sieges. Narren des Ideals, wie Doktor Stockmann, m\u00f6gen unter der kompakten Majorit\u00e4t ihrer Br\u00fcder versinken. Die Fahne des Ideals weht weiter, gehalten von den H\u00e4nden einer Frau! Sollte Konsul Bernick mit seinem Schlu\u00dfwort, da\u00df die wahren St\u00fctzen der Gesellschaft die Frauen sind, doch recht behalten?\n\nEin Feuerkopf wie Stockmann ist eine tragische Person, wie nur der Held eines antiken Dramas. In seiner Seele lebt ein sch\u00f6nes Ideal: was er als recht und gut erkannt, in jedem Fall durchzusetzen. Der Wahrheitsdrang arbeitet wie eine Naturkraft in ihm, ungez\u00fcgelt. Mit warmer Freude wiegt er sich in seinen lauteren und treuen Empfindungen, w\u00e4hnend, da\u00df seine Mitmenschen ebenso treu und lauter f\u00fchlen m\u00fc\u00dften. An den bitteren Kern der Wahrheit denkt er nicht. Es f\u00e4llt ihm nicht ein, da\u00df der rechte Volkserzieher sich nicht souver\u00e4n \u00fcber das Volk erheben und ihm die nackten Wahrheiten so ins Antlitz schleudern darf, sondern, da\u00df er sich, in scheinbarer Nachgiebigkeit, mit dem Volke auf die gleiche Stufe zu stellen habe, um es langsam und fest zu h\u00f6heren Anschauungen emporzuf\u00fchren. Und wenn dieser Volksfeind, dessen \u00bbganzer Zorn gekr\u00e4nkte Liebe ist\u00ab, schlie\u00dflich auf den Gedanken ger\u00e4t, in einer freien Schule Tr\u00e4ger seiner Ideen gro\u00df zu ziehen, so d\u00e4mmert ihm doch wohl eine Ahnung von dem auf, worin er gefehlt hat. Weil er nur den Impulsen seines heiteren, vertrauenden Herzens folgt, und unweltl\u00e4ufig, wie er war, die Forderungen der Vernunft, der Besonnenheit nicht erkannt hat, beraubt er die gr\u00f6\u00dfte Tat seines Lebens ihrer begl\u00fcckenden Wirkung. Wir lieben diesen echten Menschen und Charakter, doch wir k\u00f6nnen auch die M\u00e4chte begreifen, an deren Widerstand er scheitern mu\u00dfte. Und eben darum: wenn am Ende der Held verfemt, gemieden, in Armut gesto\u00dfen, sich als der \u00bbst\u00e4rkste Mann\u00ab, allein mit seiner aufr\u00fchrerischen Wahrheit (\u00bbNon amo _seditiosam_ veritatem\u00ab sagte der feine, \u00e4ngstliche, grillige Erasmus und meinte Luthers gro\u00dfen, unternehmenden Wahrheitsdrang), sich vor uns aufrichtet, so beherrscht uns nicht nur das Mitgef\u00fchl, das ein tragisches Schicksal hervorruft, \u2013 auch eine komische Stimmung kommt in uns auf. Im Charakter und in der Handlungsweise Stockmanns ist die Grenze, wo das Erhabene in das L\u00e4cherliche \u00fcbergeht, nicht scharf gezogen. Der Mann der hohen sittlichen Ziele, der manches Jahr schon hinter sich hat, hat das Wesen eines \u00fcberm\u00fctig-sorglosen Burschen; ja seine Launen streifen oft das Burleske. In dem gro\u00dfen Augenblicke, da er das Fazit seiner Erfahrungen ziehen soll, da kriegt ihn diese ungest\u00fcme burleske Laune v\u00f6llig unter.\n\nAm 12. Juni 1883 schreibt Ibsen an Georg Brandes: ihn besch\u00e4ftige der Entwurf eines neuen Dramas; er brauche einen Abflu\u00df f\u00fcr \u00bbdiverse Tollheiten\u00ab, die sich in Jahr und Tag bei ihm angesammelt h\u00e4tten. Am 27. Juni 1884 meldet er die Vollendung des Konzepts und am 2. September sendet er das fertige Manuskript der \u00bb _Wildente_ \u00ab an Hegel: Der t\u00e4gliche Umgang mit den Menschen dieses St\u00fcckes sei ihm trotz ihren mannigfachen Gebrechen doch lieb gewesen. Ibsen beginnt mit dieser Dichtung eine Schaffensepoche. Er schreibt: \u00bbDieses neue St\u00fcck nimmt in meiner dramatischen Produktion gewisserma\u00dfen einen Platz f\u00fcr sich ein; das Verfahren weicht in mancher Hinsicht von meiner fr\u00fcheren Methode ab. Die Kritiker werden hoffentlich die Punkte schon herausfinden; auf jeden Fall werden sie Verschiedenes zum Streiten, Verschiedenes zum Auslegen finden. Daneben wird, glaube ich, \u203adie Wildente\u2039 vielleicht einige von unseren j\u00fcngeren Dramatikern auf neue Wege locken, und das w\u00fcrde ich f\u00fcr sehr w\u00fcnschenswert halten.\u00ab Er meint die vorwiegend psychologische Behandlung, worin der Weltlauf zum Symbol h\u00f6herer Geschicke wird.\n\nAlles und jedes wird in diesem grandiosen Schauspiel zum Sinnbild. \u00bbDie Wildente\u00ab ist der st\u00e4rkste dichterische Triumph realistischer Symbolik. Kein Zufallsw\u00f6rtchen f\u00e4llt, das neben seinem gew\u00f6hnlichen Sinn nicht noch einen anderen, tieferen h\u00e4tte, der nicht irgend eine Perspektive entweder in seelische Zust\u00e4nde oder auf Lebensprobleme \u00f6ffnete. Das Hauptsymbol liegt schon im Titel. Das Wildentenschicksal gibt eine symbolische Stimmung f\u00fcr das Menschenschicksal ab. Die Wildente aber ist nicht nur Symbol, sondern auch Motiv der Handlung.\n\nSie war einst \u00fcber den Meeresspiegel geflogen. Der Gro\u00dfh\u00e4ndler Werle scho\u00df nach ihr, und fl\u00fcgellahm sank sie unter das Wasser. Ein hurtiger Hund holte sie hervor, und der fehlende Sch\u00fctze lie\u00df sie einem kleinen M\u00e4dchen schenken, der angeblichen Tochter des Photographen Hjalmar Ekdal, die aber tats\u00e4chlich des Sch\u00fctzen eigene Tochter ist. In einer Bodenkammer, neben der Ekdalschen Dachstube, findet das wunde Tier unter H\u00fchnern, Tauben, Kaninchen Unterschlupf. Fast das ganze h\u00e4usliche Interesse dreht sich um den Fremdling. Der kleinen Hedwig ist die Wildente das liebste Spielzeug. Papa Hjalmar und Gro\u00dfvater Ekdal vertreiben sich mit ihr die Zeit, die beide auf N\u00fctzlicheres verwenden k\u00f6nnten. So wird der wilde Vogel fett und zahm. Er vergi\u00dft Luft und Freiheit, Himmel und Meer. Er findet sich in sein Loos, und \u00bbdie Zeit ist stehen geblieben \u2013 da drin bei der Wildente\u00ab.\n\nDie Wildente teilt mit dem alten Ekdal das gleiche Schicksal. Auch er hatte einst die Freiheit genossen. Ein k\u00fchner Weidmann, hatte er droben im Hochwald auf B\u00e4ren gejagt und ein trutziges Leben gef\u00fchrt. Seine Gesch\u00e4ftsunkenntnis, sein Leichtsinn, die feige Niedertracht seines Gesch\u00e4ftsfreundes Werle brachten ihn ins Ungl\u00fcck\u00ab Er hat jahrelang im Zuchthaus die Vergehen beider geb\u00fc\u00dft und kam als stumpfer Greis mit einem kummervollen Hang zum Sprit heraus. Bei seinem Sohn Hjalmar findet er einen bescheidenen Unterschlupf. Dort vergi\u00dft er Luft und Freiheit, Wald und Wild; wenn er in der Bodenkammer unter vertrockneten Christb\u00e4umen auf Kaninchen pirscht, so bildet er sich ein, im Hochwald auf B\u00e4ren zu jagen.\n\nSein Sohn Hjalmar hatte auch einst die Freiheit geliebt. Als J\u00fcngling stand er im Begriffe, haltlos und hohlk\u00f6pfig wie er war, zu verkommen. Da wurde er eines Tages geheiratet. Der Gro\u00dfh\u00e4ndler Werle, der schlimmere, aber unbestrafte Schuldgenosse seines Vaters, lie\u00df ihn das Photographieren erlernen, richtete ihm einen Hausstand ein und gab ihm die eigene Wirtschafterin zur Frau. \u00dcber das Kind, das bald zur Welt kommt, macht sich Hjalmar keine weiteren Gedanken. Genug, da\u00df Gina f\u00fcr seinen faulen Pelz sorgt und emsig arbeitet. Er ist gesch\u00e4ftig nur im M\u00fc\u00dfiggang, gefr\u00e4\u00dfig, schl\u00e4ft gut und gern, und, wenn er nicht gerade vor der Welt seinen anr\u00fcchigen Vater verleugnet oder Weib und Kind leise qu\u00e4lt und sch\u00e4digt, so tut er nichts Schlimmes. Er wird fett und zahm wie die Wildente. Dabei berauscht er sich an m\u00fc\u00dfigen Zukunftstr\u00e4umen, drechselt die geschwollensten Reden, bl\u00e4st die Fl\u00f6te, ist ein flinker Nachschw\u00e4tzer fremder Weisheit, gef\u00e4llt sich in eingebildeter Schwermut und \u2013 wenn es sch\u00f6n klingt \u2013 in kleinlicher Gottesl\u00e4sterung, und l\u00e4\u00dft sich gern weismachen, er sei ein au\u00dfergew\u00f6hnlicher Mensch. Mit dem Leben h\u00e4lt er es, wie mit seines Vaters altem Schie\u00dfgewehr: \u00bbMan kann nicht mehr damit schie\u00dfen; denn am Schlo\u00df ist was nicht in Ordnung. Aber trotzdem ist es ganz nett, es zu haben; denn wir k\u00f6nnen es ab und zu auseinandernehmen, es mit Knochenfett einschmieren und wieder zusammensetzen.\u00ab \u2013 Wie alle Selbstbewunderer f\u00fchlt er sich gl\u00fccklich; zu seinem Gl\u00fcck geh\u00f6rt es, da\u00df die kleine, unschuldige Hedwig in diesem \u00bbFamilienvater\u00ab ihr Menschheitsideal w\u00e4hnt und verg\u00f6ttert. Seine Phrasen h\u00e4lt sie f\u00fcr Weisheit, sein Pathos f\u00fcr Seele, seine Aufschneidereien f\u00fcr Lebenserfahrung, seine Locken f\u00fcr Manneszier, seine Tr\u00e4gheit f\u00fcr die Mu\u00dfe gesammelter Geisteskraft. Ganz naiv spricht sie von seinen Schw\u00e4chen und L\u00e4cherlichkeiten, ohne zu ahnen, da\u00df es Schw\u00e4chen und L\u00e4cherlichkeiten sind; ganz treuherzig erz\u00e4hlt sie von dem Tagedieb: \u00bbVater hat versprochen mir Unterricht zu geben; aber er hat noch keine Zeit dazu gehabt\u00ab. Dabei ist sie selbst das Gegenteil ihres angebeteten Ideals; sie ist klug, hilfreich und t\u00e4tig, lernbegierig und opferf\u00e4hig, das lieblichste Backfischchen, das je ein Dichter geschaffen hat.\n\nHedwig ist genau solch ein kleiner Wildling wie ihre geliebte Ente. Auch das Kind verdankt die Familie Ekdal dem alten Werle. Vom Gro\u00dfh\u00e4ndler Werle hat Hedwig die Gefahr des Erblindens geerbt, wie von Gina Ekdal die G\u00fcte des Herzens. Bald fr\u00f6hlich, bald nachdenklich h\u00fcpft das holde M\u00e4dchen durch ihr bescheidenes Dasein und ist noch zufriedener als die Wildente, da sie niemals, wie diese, sch\u00f6nere Tage gekannt hat; nur ihre reine Kindesphantasie spiegelt ihr hellere Welten vor als das Dachstubenleben bei Mutter Gina und Papa Hjalmar.\n\nIn die stumpfe und dumpfe Gem\u00fctlichkeit dieses mit niederl\u00e4ndischer Kraft dargestellten Familiendaseins treten zwei M\u00e4nner ein, von denen sich jeder eine bestimmte Weltanschauung gebildet hat. Der eine ist der Arzt Relling, der andere ist Gregers Werle, der Sohn jenes Gro\u00dfh\u00e4ndlers. Beide haben in der Welt ihr Gl\u00fcck verpa\u00dft, aber aus unterschiedlichen Gr\u00fcnden. Relling dankt seine Verkommenheit einem w\u00fcsten Lebensgenu\u00df. Gregers Werle, der ungeschickte, mi\u00dfhandelte, h\u00e4\u00dfliche Sohn einer ungeschickten, mi\u00dfhandelten, h\u00e4\u00dflichen Mutter, dem die Gewissenlosigkeit seines Vaters auf das eigene \u00bbkr\u00e4nkliche\u00ab Gewissen dr\u00fcckt, ist weltscheu und weltfremd geworden; in seinem schweren Tr\u00e4umerkopf hat sich der Glaube an ein Ideal festgenagelt. Und dieses Ideal ist die Wahrheit, Was f\u00fcr Frau Alving Gegensatz schien, wird f\u00fcr Gregers Werle identisch. Relling sucht in der schlechten Welt gemeine Gen\u00fcsse, Gregers will die ihm unbekannte Welt bessern. Dem gen\u00fcgsam-resignierten Pessimisten steht der hochgespannte Optimist gegen\u00fcber, dessen \u00bbRechtschaffenheitsfieber\u00ab jener verspottet. Beide sind im Unterschied zu ihrem gemeinschaftlichen Freunde Hjalmar Ekdal von Natur ungl\u00fcckliche Menschen, aber beide wollen das Gl\u00fcck Ekdals und der Seinen. Gregers Werle erkannte als Voraussetzung des Lebensgl\u00fcckes die unbedingte gegenseitige Wahrhaftigkeit, Relling die T\u00e4uschung, die Einbildung, die \u00bbLebensl\u00fcge\u00ab. Gregers Werle stellt ideale, Relling praktische Forderungen an das Leben. Wie Helene Alving im Disput mit dem opportunistischen Pastor Manders den Idealen die Wahrheit gegen\u00fcberstellt, so stellt Gregers Werle im Disput mit Relling dieselbe Wahrheit als das eigentliche Ideal den begl\u00fcckenden Illusionen entgegen, die Relling ebenso bewu\u00dft als L\u00fcgen erkennt, wie die Ideale. Weil Hjalmar Ekdal sich und den Seinen sch\u00f6nen blauen Dunst vormacht und niemals dar\u00fcber nachdenkt, da\u00df er seine Existenz einem gefallenen Weibe verdankt, ist er nach Rellings Anschauung gl\u00fccklich. Ebenso wie der versumpfte Theolog Molvik ganz gl\u00fccklich lebt, weil er an einen D\u00e4mon glaubt, der sein besseres Selbst unterdr\u00fcckt und ihm so die Freiheit und Verantwortlichkeit abnimmt. Dieses dumpfe Gl\u00fcck, das einer dumpfen Seele w\u00fcrdig ist, soll dem guten Hjalmar erhalten bleiben. Gregers Werle dagegen wird ihn erst dann f\u00fcr gl\u00fccklich halten, wenn er seine Ehe im rechten Lichte gesehen haben, wenn zwischen ihm und Gina und Hedwig volle Wahrheit sein wird. Nicht eine Wahrheit aus Bequemlichkeit und praktischem Interesse wie zwischen dem alten Werle und seiner lebensklugen, illusionslosen, v\u00f6llig vorurteilsfreien Frau S\u00f6rby, sondern eine Wahrheit um der Wahrheit willen. Darum kl\u00e4rt Gregers, gegen den entschiedenen Widerspruch Rellings, den armen Hanswurst \u00fcber Ginas Vorleben und Hedwigs Herkunft auf. Er verspricht sich davon S\u00fchne aller vergangenen Schuld und L\u00e4uterung. Wo bisher Lug und Heimlichkeit war, soll jetzt Offenherzigkeit und Vergebung der S\u00fcnden sein. Gregers Werle selbst war dabei einer Illusion, einer T\u00e4uschung verfallen, denn er traute seinem Freunde, der in Wahrheit ein Tor und ein Tropf ist, das Talent zum Adelsmenschen zu. Gerade weil aber Hjalmar und Gina dumpfe Seelen sind und bleiben, schadet ihnen die Wahrheit so wenig, wie ihnen die L\u00fcge geschadet hatte. Das Eheleben zwischen der gutm\u00fctig-beschr\u00e4nkten, naiv ein bi\u00dfchen jenseits von Gut und B\u00f6se umherschl\u00fcrfenden Gina, die eine alte Schuld durch hausm\u00fctterliche Treuherzigkeit und T\u00fcchtigkeit s\u00fchnt, und dem haltlosen Windmacher Hjalmar, den sie dadurch vom Untergang rettete, wird auf die L\u00e4nge nicht getr\u00fcbt. Man lebt weiter, wie man gelebt hat.\n\nDagegen f\u00e4llt ein anderes zartes Opfer: ein Gottesgesch\u00f6pfchen, zu gut f\u00fcr diese dumme und dumpfe Welt, in der es doch gern und gl\u00fccklich gelebt hat. Die kleine Hedwig, bleichs\u00fcchtig und im Wachstum, zeigt sich den kaum verstandenen Aufopferungsgedanken des idealistischen Tr\u00e4umers, der ihr heimlicher Stiefbruder ist, zug\u00e4nglich. Da Hjalmar in selbstgef\u00e4lliger Entr\u00fcstungspose das Kind als Fremde von sich weist, will sie durch einen unzweifelhaften Beweis ihrer Liebe seine Liebe wiedergewinnen. Gregers Werle und ihr kleines Herz sagen ihr: der offenbarste Beweis der Liebe sei ein Opfer. Sie will ihr liebstes Spielzeug, den Stolz ihres Besitzes opfern, sie will die Wildente erschie\u00dfen. Aber da sie h\u00f6rt, wie Hjalmar Ekdal in schw\u00fclstigen Tiraden behauptet, an ihrer Liebe und Aufopferungsf\u00e4higkeit zu zweifeln, da sie erf\u00e4hrt, da\u00df sie nicht Vaters richtiges Kind ist, so kehrt sie die Pistole nicht gegen die Wildente, sondern gegen die eigene Brust. Sie bezahlt und beweist ihm ihre Liebe mit dem Leben. Einem Leben in Blindheit entzieht sie ein freier Opfertod in der Bodenkammer, die ihr manchmal erschienen ist wie \u00bbder Meeresgrund\u00ab. Es ist der hochherzige Entschlu\u00df einer hysterisch-ver\u00e4ngstigten, kindisch-verirrten, von inneren und \u00e4u\u00dferen, nicht nur k\u00f6rperlichen, sondern auch meteorologischen Einfl\u00fcssen momentan getr\u00fcbten, aber gro\u00df und rein geschaffenen Seele.\n\nNicht aus der Idee heraus hat der Dichter diese Vorg\u00e4nge gestaltet. Vollkommen gibt er weder Relling noch Gregers recht. Beide denken einseitig. Ibsen zeigt uns auch nicht die h\u00f6here Einheit der beiden Gegens\u00e4tze. Die Frage: was ist Gl\u00fcck und welcher Weg f\u00fchrt zum Gl\u00fcck? bleibt so offen, wie sie war. Ebenso offen bleibt die andere Frage: was n\u00fctzt Wahrheit? Der Dichter stellt sich nicht die Aufgabe, diese Fragen zu l\u00f6sen. Aber er nimmt sich das Recht, sie zu er\u00f6rtern. Und gibt man dieses Recht ihm zu, so mu\u00df man die m\u00e4chtige Gestaltungskraft bewundern, mit der er frei von allen theoretischen Deduktionen und Diskussionen uns mitten ins wirkliche Leben hineinf\u00fchrt und aus individuell gestalteten Charakteren ein Schicksal schmiedet, das nur Beispiel, nicht Beweis ist f\u00fcr die eine oder die andere Weltanschauung. Die Gestalten sind nicht Tr\u00e4ger und Beleuchter irgend eines moralphilosophischen Grundsatzes, sondern sie f\u00fchren jede ihr eigenes, auch an Widerspr\u00fcchen reiches Leben. Nur Naturell, Temperament und Gewohnheit leiten ihre Handlungen und begr\u00fcnden ihr Schicksal. Angeborenes und Anerzogenes wirkt zusammen. So entstehen in Hjalmar und Gina, in dem alten Ekdal und Hedwig Menschen von einer Lebenswahrheit, die unheimlich und verbl\u00fcffend auf jeden wirken mu\u00df, der sonst auf der B\u00fchne an Ideen oder an Marionetten gew\u00f6hnt ist.\n\nIn fr\u00fcheren St\u00fccken hatte sich Ibsen in seiner Weltanschauung als Apostel der reinen Wahrhaftigkeit bekannt. Auf ihrem Grunde nur fand er Liebe und Gl\u00fcck. Wie ein solcher Wahrheitsapostel an der Macht der L\u00fcge scheitert, zeigte er im Volksfeinde. Aus der \u00bbWildente\u00ab will der Dichter die Beobachtung gezogen wissen, da\u00df die Wahrheit f\u00fcr gewisse Menschen, vielleicht f\u00fcr die meisten, ein zu kostbares, ein gef\u00e4hrliches, ein t\u00f6tendes Gut ist.\n\nDas Schauspiel \u00bb _Rosmersholm_ \u00ab (am 23. Okt. 1886 erschienen) war die Frucht eines Besuches in der Heimat. Die politischen Verh\u00e4ltnisse waren dem Dichter wieder n\u00e4her getreten. Die Lauheit und Zwietr\u00e4chtigkeit der Liberalen stie\u00df ihn ab. Er vermi\u00dfte die \u00bbaktiven Kr\u00e4fte\u00ab zur Erf\u00fcllung gro\u00dfer Kulturaufgaben. \u00bbRosmersholm\u00ab ist das Drama politischer Erweckung. Die \u00bbAufforderung zur Arbeit\u00ab erkennt Ibsen selbst als ein \u00bbLeitmotiv\u00ab des St\u00fcckes. Aber vor allem, sagt er (Brief an Bj\u00f6rn Kristensen), ist das \u00bbSt\u00fcck nat\u00fcrlich eine Dichtung von Menschen und Menschenschicksalen\u00ab. Den landschaftlichen Hintergrund f\u00fcr dieses Herrensitzdrama gab das alte Erbgut einer Familie M\u00f6ller, der Moldegaard bei Molde.\n\nIn diesem Drama ger\u00e4t die \u00bbideale Forderung\u00ab nicht zu Durchschnittsmenschen wie Gina und Hjalmar Ekdal, sondern zu jenen Auserlesenen, zu denen Hedwig Ekdal berufen war. Was sich jener Volksfeind vornahm, was Gregers Werle in der Ekdalschen Familie unheilvoll versuchte, das schwebt auch dem Expastor Rosmer vor, der sich von angeerbten und anerzogenen Anschauungen \u00fcber Staat und Kirche losgemacht hat und einem Zukunftsreich frohe, edle Menschen erziehen will, die das doppelseitige Ideal der individuellen Freiheit und der die Gefahren einer solchen Freiheit ausgleichenden Opferfreudigkeit verk\u00f6rpern. War der Volksfeind ein naiver Hitzkopf gewesen, war Gregers Werle ein vereinsamter Gr\u00fcbler und tiefsinnig bornierter Hartsch\u00e4del, so ist Johannes Rosmer, der Enkel eines uralten, bodenst\u00e4ndigen, Land und Leute lenkenden Edelgeschlechts, eine feine, sinnende, zum Edelsten und Reinsten strebende Seele, ein geistiger Aristokrat, zart-empfindlich nach au\u00dfen, tief eindringend nach innen. Rosmer hat etwas vom Hamlet. Was sich der Volksfeind vornimmt, was bei Gregers scheitert, wird von Rosmer, in einem Falle wenigstens, erreicht. Er hat eine Seele geadelt.\n\nRebekka West war aus unsauberen Verh\u00e4ltnissen mit einer Vergangenheit, die bis zur unbewu\u00dften Blutschande herabsank, nach Rosmersholm gekommen; hier begeht sie etwas, das einem Verbrechen \u00e4hnlich sieht. In den Hausherrn mit der ganzen Leidenschaft ihrer ungeb\u00e4ndigten, jenseits von Gut und B\u00f6se wildernden, d\u00e4monischen Natur verliebt, erkennt sie sofort, da\u00df Rosmer von seiner hysterischen Frau zwar mit derselben, noch bis zur Nymphomanie gesteigerten Sinnesleidenschaft geliebt, aber seelisch und geistig nicht verstanden wird.\n\nRebekka f\u00fchlt sich f\u00e4hig, um ihren sinnlichen Zweck zu erreichen, sofort an seinem inneren Leben teilzunehmen. W\u00e4hrend sie geistig und seelisch mit dem begehrten Manne verkehrt, bringt sie der Frau den Glauben bei, dieser Verkehr sei geschlechtlich, sei Ehebruch. W\u00e4re Rebekka, die von der Mitternachtsonne herkam, ein paar Jahrtausende fr\u00fcher dort oben geboren, so h\u00e4tte sie als richtige nordische Sagenfrau schlecht und recht die Rivalin mit eigener Hand ermordet. In unserer zahmen Zeit f\u00fchlt Rebekka an sich selbst, da\u00df es zwei Arten Willen in einem Menschen gibt. Sie k\u00f6nnte auch sagen, da\u00df es abgesondert einen Wunsch und einen Willen gibt. Je mehr sich die menschliche Natur kultiviert, desto sch\u00e4rfer scheidet sich in kritischen F\u00e4llen der Wunsch vom Willen. Wir w\u00fcnschen, da\u00df mancherlei geschehe, sind aber nicht willens, die erw\u00fcnschte Tat direkt auszuf\u00fchren. Rebekka w\u00fcnscht, da\u00df Rosmers Frau auf Rosmersholm nicht vorhanden sei. Aber ihr Wille ist nicht stark genug, um sie zu t\u00f6ten. Ihr starker Wunsch jedoch treibt sie Schritt f\u00fcr Schritt, Sp\u00fcrchen f\u00fcr Sp\u00fcrchen zu Worten und Handlungen, in deren mittelbarer Folge die Frau selbst Rebekkas Wunsch erf\u00fcllt. Beate, die in der Urfassung des ersten Aktes noch lebend an der Handlung teilnahm, r\u00e4umt sich selbst den beiden aus dem Wege, auf da\u00df ihr Gatte mit der Wahlverwandten gl\u00fccklich werde. Wie Hedwig Ekdal, so fand auch Frau Beate Rosmer, geborene Kroll, Mut und Kraft, ihr Leben f\u00fcr ihre Liebe zu opfern. Jenes \u00bbWunderbare\u00ab, das Nora Helmer von ihrem Gatten vergeblich erhofft hat, wozu Nora selbst f\u00e4hig gewesen w\u00e4re \u2013 ein hysterisches, stimmbr\u00fcchiges Kind, ein hysterisches, unfruchtbares Weib vollbringen es \u00bbmit ihrer leidenden Liebe\u00ab.\n\nAber auf Rosmersholm geschieht noch etwas Wunderbareres. Die Opfertat ist vollbracht; der Weg Rebekkas zu Rosmer ist frei; sie leben selbander, von der Welt beklatscht, auf dem einsamen Landsitz; aber sie verkehren wie Geschwister, wie br\u00fcderliche Freunde. Der geistige Umgang mit dem edlen, feinen, stillen, keuschen Mann hat tief in Rebekkas verw\u00fcsteter Natur eine bessere Seele geweckt, ihre Leidenschaft gel\u00e4utert, ihre Triebe geadelt, alles Gro\u00dfe in ihr frei gemacht. Was Geburt, Gew\u00f6hnung, Erziehung in dieser nat\u00fcrlichen Tochter einer Hebamme und eines Geburtshelfers erniedrigt hatten, dringt hervor wie ein Edelstein aus dem Erdmorast. Wie Rosmers kontemplative Natur sie selbst gel\u00e4utert hat, so treibt ihre eigene aktive Natur nun ihn zu mannhafter Tatenlust: \u00bbLebe, wirke, handle\u00ab, sagt sie ihm; \u00bbsitz nicht da und gr\u00fcble und br\u00fcte \u00fcber unl\u00f6sbaren R\u00e4tseln!\u00ab Ibsen hat niemals ein Weib gezeichnet, das ohne starken Einflu\u00df auf den Mann gewesen w\u00e4re, dem es innerlich angeh\u00f6rt.\n\nDer Wille zur Tat ist geweckt. Rosmer sehnt sich darnach, Licht zu bringen in das D\u00fcster der menschlichen Abscheulichkeiten, die Menschen zur Selbsterkenntnis, zur Reue, zur Vertr\u00e4glichkeit zu f\u00fchren. \u00bbAch, was f\u00fcr eine Lust w\u00e4r' es dann, zu leben. Kein ha\u00dferf\u00fcllter Streit mehr. Nur Wettstreit. Aller Augen gerichtet auf das eine Ziel.\u00ab Wie er und Rebekka in reiner Freundschaft keusch und geistig beisammen leben, so soll die Menschheit leben. Er, den kein Mensch jemals hat lachen sehen, f\u00fchlt in sich gro\u00dfe Anlagen zum Fr\u00f6hlichsein. Er will sein Evangelium von der Freude, die die Geister adelt, von den \u00bbfrohen Adelsmenschen\u00ab an die Stelle alter \u00dcberlieferungen setzen, von denen der Priester und der Abk\u00f6mmling eines alten Geschlechts sich selbst innerlich losgesagt hat. Die freie, frohe Genossin soll ihm helfend zur Seite bleiben. Was er selbst an sich erlebt, ein freies Zusammensein von Mann und Weib ohne Ehe, aber auch ohne \u00bbfreie Liebe\u00ab, h\u00e4lt er auch anderw\u00e4rts f\u00fcr m\u00f6glich und fast f\u00fcr normal.\n\nRebekka beginnt gerade unter der Macht einer reinen Lebensanschauung die Verantwortung dessen zu f\u00fchlen, was geschah. Diese geheime Schuld lahmt ihr Begehren. Sie vermag die Fr\u00fcchte ihrer dunklen Tat nicht zu genie\u00dfen. Je h\u00f6her Rosmer seinen idealen Flug nimmt, desto h\u00f6her hebt er auch sie \u00fcber die gemeine Sinnlichkeit hinaus. Allm\u00e4hlich wird sie erst durch ihn, wof\u00fcr er sie von Anfang an hielt: eine freie, adlige Seele. Sie war das nie gewesen; den Makel ihrer Geburt \u00fcbertraf der Makel ihrer Jugend. Durch die Sch\u00e4ndlichkeit, die sie an Beate beging, kr\u00f6nte sie nur einen schuldhaften Wandel. Aber was die b\u00fcrgerlich brave Beate, die geborene Kroll, nie begriff, das lernte dieses gefallene Kind der S\u00fcnde empfinden: Rebekka begriff das Ringen eines reinen Mannes nach dem Ideal. Zwar nicht die Freude adelt ihren Geist, wie Rosmer das m\u00f6chte; wohl aber erf\u00e4hrt sie an sich selbst, da\u00df die Kraft, zu adeln, auch ein gro\u00dfer Schmerz besitzt. Bei ihr ist dieser gro\u00dfe Schmerz die Reue nach der Tat, die Macht der Vergeltung. Sie wird adelig, aber sie wird nicht froh.\n\nKaum soll das Ideal Wirklichkeit werden, kaum will Rosmer im praktischen Leben Partei ergreifen, so erregt er Ansto\u00df durch Rebekka, die den Philistern als Hexe gilt, als Hexe im verf\u00fchrerischen wie im geh\u00e4ssigen Sinn. Was jetzt dem Ahnungslosen von Freund und Feind, von Freund Kroll und Feind Mortensg\u00e5rd, \u00fcber sie hinterbracht wird, mu\u00df er f\u00fcr b\u00f6sen Leumund halten. Um dem entgegenzutreten, um alles Vergangene los zu werden, um die Leiche von seinem R\u00fccken abzusch\u00fctteln, bietet er der Freundin seine Hand zum Ehebund. Sie schl\u00e4gt entsetzt den Antrag aus, um ihrer Schuld, ihrer Vergangenheit willen: eher den Tod, als dieses unverdiente Gl\u00fcck! Bald kommt der Augenblick, da Rosmer endlich alles erfahren mu\u00df. Unter dem vernichtenden Eindruck eines alten Oedipusfluches findet sie den Mut und die Charakterst\u00e4rke zu einem freien, r\u00fcckhaltlosen Gest\u00e4ndnis. Die S\u00fcnderin wird zur Bekennerin: Ja! sie hat ihn get\u00e4uscht! Ja! sie hat Beate in den Tod gejagt! Er wird irr an ihr und kann ihr von nun ab niemals wieder trauen! Sie m\u00fcssen sich f\u00fcr immer trennen, denn zu viel liegt zwischen ihnen: ihre Vergangenheit, ihr Betrug, die selige Frau! Wenn sie ihm auch sagt: Ich bin nicht mehr, die ich war! _Du_ hast mich frei gemacht, _Du_ hast mich gel\u00e4utert \u2013 wie kann er ihr glauben, die ihn so lange und so fein hinterging, die ihn nun so j\u00e4h entt\u00e4uscht? Den Glauben an sie kann ihm nur ein Beweis wiederbringen. Sie ist ihm einen Liebesbeweis schuldig, der nicht hinter dem zur\u00fcckstehen darf, den die Verstorbene ihm gegeben hat, die gern und freiwillig ihr Leben f\u00fcr sein Gluck lassen konnte. Rebekka teilt diese Anschauung.\n\nRosmers F\u00e4higkeit, Menschen umzuwandeln, hat sich an Rebekka erwiesen, und gerade Rebekka ist es, die ihm den verlorenen Glauben an diese F\u00e4higkeit und den Glauben an die F\u00e4higkeit der Menschenseele, sich adeln zu lassen, nur durch einen Beweis ihrer Liebe wiedergeben kann. Dieser Beweis kann nur ihr Opfertod sein, denn nach der alten Rosmerschen Familienanschauung verlangt Verbrechen S\u00fchne. Wohin sie Rosmers Weib getrieben hat, mu\u00df sie selber gehen, und Johannes Rosmers eigene frei gewordene Lebensanschauung f\u00fchrt zu demselben Ziel: \u00bbEs ist kein Richter \u00fcber uns. Und darum m\u00fcssen wir selbst Justiz \u00fcben.\u00ab So sind sie im wachsenden Aufruhr ihrer tiefsten und geheiligtesten Empfindungen f\u00fcr einander und gegen einander beide zusammen auf den gemiedenen M\u00fchlensteg gelangt. Eins geworden im Leben wie im Tod, gehen sie zusammen froh und freiwillig in den Tod, da sie unter dem Schatten des Vorangegangenen nicht zusammen leben k\u00f6nnen. \u00bbDie Selige hat sie geholt\u00ab, jammert ein Weib aus dem Volke, das an Gespenster, an die wei\u00dfen Rosse von Rosmersholm glaubt. Umschlungen sieht man sie sinken, umschlungen zum ersten Mal. Die Rosmersche Lebensanschauung, die altererbte wie die neu erworbene, adelt die Seele, aber t\u00f6tet das Gl\u00fcck, das nichts anderes ist als stilles, frohes, sicheres Gef\u00fchl der Schuldlosigkeit, auch da, wo Schuld vorhanden ist. Auf Rosmersholm werden sich S\u00fcnder ihrer Schuld bewu\u00dft. Sie brechen dort unter der Last des erregten Gewissens zusammen. Die Ethik, die christliche Ethik siegt, indem sie vernichtet. Denn derselbe Rosmer, der von der Kirche abwendig sein Pfarramt niedergelegt hat, der allen Glauben an den Buchstaben verloren hat, predigt und \u00fcbt nichts anderes als den Geist des Urchristentums. Man kann ihn mit Leo Tolstoi vergleichen. Sein moralisches Gewissen ist so empfindlich, da\u00df er sich selbst am Tode Beatens die Mitschuld beimi\u00dft, weil er schon zu ihren Lebzeiten innerlich der anderen geh\u00f6rte. Rosmers Lehre ist die Moral der Bergpredigt, die den Sanftm\u00fctigen, den Gerechtigkeit Suchenden, denen, die reines Herzens sind, den Barmherzigen den Trost gibt: \u00bbSeid fr\u00f6hlich\u00ab; die zur br\u00fcderlichen Vers\u00f6hnung und zur Aufopferung mahnt. W\u00e4hrend die Bergpredigt zwar vor irdischer Habgier warnt, daf\u00fcr aber dem Egoismus der Menschen himmlischen Lohn verspricht, fehlt dem ungl\u00e4ubigen Johannes Rosmer auch diese Hoffnung auf gl\u00fccklichen Besitz im Dr\u00fcben. Er liebt und \u00fcbt die Moral nur um ihrer selbst willen, ohne jeden pers\u00f6nlichen Anspruch auf diesseitige oder jenseitige Verg\u00fctung. Wo er schuldig geworden ist, vergilt er aus eigenem Willen. \u00bbWer t\u00f6tet, der soll des Gerichts schuldig sein,\u00ab sagt die Bergpredigt. Rosmer, der die Schuld am Tode seines Weibes auf dem Gewissen f\u00fchlt, wird sein eigener Richter und spricht sich selbst nach dem alten antichristlichen Mosesgebot \u00bbAuge um Auge, Zahn um Zahn\u00ab das Todesurteil. So begeht er Selbstmord, vers\u00fcndigt sich also gegen die christliche Lehre, indem er aus ihr die \u00e4u\u00dferste Schlu\u00dffolgerung zieht; ironisch schaut Henrik Ibsen ihm dabei zu und denkt sich: so ergeht es den wahren Propheten im Lande.\n\nDes Dichters Ironie wie seines Helden Prophetentum werden noch heller und greller durch die drei m\u00e4nnlichen Personen beleuchtet, die jede wie aus einer Blendlaterne ihr tr\u00fcbes Licht auf Johannes Rosmer werfen. Das froh und frei gewordene Adelsmenschenpaar verl\u00e4\u00dft die Welt. \u00dcbrig bleibt die Welt f\u00fcr drei Menschensorten. Zur ersten Sorte geh\u00f6rt Rosmers Schwager, Beatens Bruder, der Rektor Kroll, ein Geistesverwandter des Advokaten Helmer, des Pastors Manders, des Stadtvogtes Stockmann, des Gro\u00dfh\u00e4ndlers Werle. Er ist eine St\u00fctze der christlichen Landeskirche; aber wenn der Bergprediger mahnt: \u00bbwenn dir jemand einen Streich gibt auf deine rechte Backe, dem biete die andere auch dar\u00ab, so ist Rektor Kroll, wie er selbst renommiert, nicht der Mann, der seinen politischen Parteigegnern gutwillig die Backe hinh\u00e4lt, \u2013 sondern wenn er Blut geleckt hat, bei\u00dft er um sich. Zu seinen christlichen Theoremen geh\u00f6rt auch die Aufopferung f\u00fcr andere, aber wie sehr ihm die wahre und werkt\u00e4tige Liebe fehlt, beweist seine kalte Scheu vor der Erinnerung an die Schwester, deren Selbstmord seinem Philistersinn peinlich und \u00e4rgerlich ist, und \u00fcber deren Seelenschicksal er viel gelassener hinweg kommt, als Rosmer und Rebekka. Seinen N\u00e4chsten liebt er so wenig, da\u00df blo\u00dfe Meinungsverschiedenheit ihn zu Ha\u00df und Verdammnis f\u00fchren. Er ist ein besserer Menschenkenner als Rosmer, aber diese Menschenkenntnis beruht auf Geringsch\u00e4tzung der Menschen. Das Christuswort \u00bbWer nicht f\u00fcr mich ist, der ist wider mich\u00ab kehrt er in egoistischer Weise um: \u00bbWer nicht mit mir ist ... (dem) bin ich keine R\u00fccksicht schuldig\u00ab. So steht dem entkirchlichten Urchristen Johannes Rosmer der Staatskirchenchrist als Ketzerrichter gegen\u00fcber, der die christlichen Tugenden der Sanftmut, der Gerechtigkeit, der Barmherzigkeit, der br\u00fcderlichen Liebe nur so lange \u00fcbt, wie sich's lohnt, der aber im Kampf sich selbst mit Stolz einen Stromhemmer nennt, einen Tyrannen der Jugend, einen Feind selbst\u00e4ndigen Denkens, einen, der aus Zweckm\u00e4\u00dfigkeit die Wahrheit mindestens totschweigt, einen Verteidiger des Ewiggestrigen oder, wie er selbst sich ausdr\u00fcckt, dessen, was \u00bbbis jetzt\u00ab f\u00fcr recht und billig gegolten hat; einen Entr\u00fcsteten, dem die Sittlichkeit ohne Kirchenglauben nicht viel wert ist. Dabei ist dieser Eiferer ein Mann von angenehmen Umgangsformen; auch ein lebem\u00e4nnischer Zug ist seinem Wesen nicht fremd, denn zu dieser Art von Heiligen geh\u00f6rt auch ein St\u00fcckchen Tart\u00fcff, ein Wolf im Schafskleide, wie es in der Bergpredigt hei\u00dft, und es scheint, da\u00df nicht nur Frau Beate Rosmer, sondern auch ihre Schw\u00e4gerin Frau Kroll einigen Grund hatte, auf Rebekka West eifers\u00fcchtig zu sein.\n\nEine andere Abart derselben Sorte ist der Redakteur Peder Mortensg\u00e5rd, der nur eine Szene im St\u00fcck hat; er ist nicht, wie der Rektor Kroll, schlecht und recht auf der goldenen Mittelstra\u00dfe im Durchschnitt und im Dutzend geblieben, sondern ein Fehltritt, der entdeckt wurde, warf ihn um. Aber er bringt sich wieder empor, gewinnt Einflu\u00df durch Hintert\u00fcren, es gelingt ihm, nach dem Ma\u00df seiner F\u00e4higkeiten eine Stellung in der Welt einzunehmen. Er ist noch mehr Menschenkenner als Kroll, denn ihm fehlt die Naivet\u00e4t der Borniertheit, ihm fehlt der Glaube an die eigene Einbildung. Auf eine Gesinnungslumperei kommt es ihm so wenig an, wie dem Rektor; aber er wird es im stillen auch f\u00fcr eine Gesinnungslumperei halten. Er ist ein schlauer und witziger Fallensteller, wie der Tischler Engstrand; wie dieser, ein Cyniker mit der gesalzenen Ironie seines Dichters. Beide, Mortensg\u00e5rd wie Kroll, stellen sich, mehr oder minder bewu\u00dft, zur kompakten Majorit\u00e4t, gegen die der Volksfeind wettert; da\u00df sie Parteifeinde sind, da\u00df einer gegen die Lehren des anderen tobt und zetert, ist ein Beweis, wie wenig es Ibsen um die Tendenz zu tun ist, wie wenig er einen oder den anderen Standpunkt bek\u00e4mpft. Worauf es ihm ankommt, ist der Kampf gegen die Unehrlichkeit und Unwahrhaftigkeit, mit der ein beliebiger Standpunkt vertreten, eine beliebige Gesinnung geheuchelt wird. Kroll, der F\u00fchrer der Kirchenpartei, und Mortensg\u00e5rd, der F\u00fchrer der Opposition, sind einander wert.\n\nDas Geheimnis ihres Erfolges bei der Masse aber verr\u00e4t der dritte Episodist des St\u00fccks: Ulrik Brendel. Dieser sagt von Mortensg\u00e5rd: er kann alles, was er will. Denn er will nie mehr, als er kann, \u2013 er ist kapabel, das Leben ohne Ideale zu leben. Das war Ulrik Brendels Sache nie. Auf der Suche nach Idealen ist er zum Landstreicher, zum S\u00e4ufer, zum Schnorrer geworden; der Reichtum seiner Ideen, die Sch\u00f6nheit seiner Rede sind zu Schwulst und Phrase entartet; seine ganze Existenz, die zum Sch\u00f6nsten und Reinsten bestimmt war, liegt im Dreck. Wenn Rebekka West aus Dumpfheit und W\u00fcstenei durch Rosmers Ideen emporsteigt, so ging Ulrik Brendel, der diese Ideen in Rosmer gelegt hat, den Weg nach unten. Ulrik Brendel ist die tragikomischste Gestalt, die Ibsen geschaffen hat; keinem hat der Dichter hei\u00dferes Herzblut, keinem hat er mehr von seinem grotesken Humor gegeben, als diesem Ahasver. Die Menschengr\u00f6\u00dfe, die anderen Opfern des Lebens fehlt, hier ist sie da und wirkt mit Shakespearescher Macht. Andere Verkommene, andere Stiefkinder des Weltenschicksals, wie Leutnant Ekdal, sind versimpelt. In Ulrik Brendel aber wirkt die Opferung des Individuums mit einem gewaltigen pers\u00f6nlichen Zauber. Nur zweimal streift er schwankenden Fu\u00dfes, schw\u00e4rmenden Hauptes \u00fcber die B\u00fchne, auf einem Hinwege und auf einem R\u00fcckwege; aber dieses eine Hin und Her, welch ein Zickzackgang der dunstig taumelnden Seele! Hin geht ein wahnwitziger Optimist, der um ein Paar abgelegte Stiefel bettelt, zur\u00fcck kommt ein wahnwitziger Pessimist, der um ein paar abgelegte Ideale bettelt. Beide Male ist es, als g\u00e4rten aus dem Kot der Erde die dunklen Kr\u00e4fte auf, die im Haushalt der verschwenderischen Natur keine Verwendung fanden. Dieser Ulrik Brendel wertet alle Werte um, seinem trunkenen Blick stellt sich nichts Dauerndes dar, und doch oder gerade darum \u00f6ffnet er hellsehend die weitesten Perspektiven; aus dem Mist wuchert Wahrheit auf; einen Augenblick ist es, als spr\u00e4che dieser Pathetiker, dessen tiefsinniger Schwulst so ganz anders ist als Hjalmar Ekdals leerer Schwulst, aus dem innersten, pers\u00f6nlichsten Gem\u00fct seines Dichters. Erscheint Brendel au\u00dferhalb des Dramas wie eine der verk\u00f6rperten Selbstironien des Dichters, so spukt er innerhalb des Dramas als ein tragisches Symbol gewaltigster Art mitten in die Katastrophe hinein. Den beiden tragischen Menschen, die vor dem R\u00e4tsel ihres eignen Endes nicht aus noch ein wissen und doch \u00bbdie zwingende Notwendigkeit\u00ab, wie Ulrik Brendel sagt, ein Ende zu machen, f\u00fchlen, ihnen zeigt des Landstreichers Wort, noch mehr seine Gestalt den Weg. Er geht \u00bbbergab\u00ab, \u00bbheimw\u00e4rts\u00ab. Mit dem Heimweh nach dem gro\u00dfen Nichts! Der Urchrist Johannes, der keinen Gotteslohn verlangte, sieht sich auf Nirwana gewiesen. Aber noch brennender f\u00e4llt ein anderes Wort Ulrik Brendels in die heimw\u00e4rts gekehrten Seelen; es ist das Symbol vom abgehackten Rosenfinger, das Symbol des fr\u00f6hlichen Liebesopfers. Nun bedarf es f\u00fcr die beiden Todesbereiten nur noch der gegenseitigen Best\u00e4rkung. Eins reizt das andere durch Zweifel, wechselseitig steigert sich ihre Erregtheit zur Ekstase, und was sie aus ihren Seelen heraus tun m\u00fcssen, das tun sie aus dem jagenden Fieber des Augenblicks. Die wei\u00dfen Rosse fliegen durch die Luft; wei\u00dfe Wolken fliegen durch die blaue, rauhe Zugluft dieser wundervollen Trag\u00f6die, in der von Anfang bis zu Ende alle Fenster und T\u00fcren weit ge\u00f6ffnet scheinen, \u00fcber die Freilicht flutet.\n\nNeben jenen wei\u00dfen Rossen in frischer, herber, blauer Luft deutet sich in \u00bbRosmersholm\u00ab leis ein anderes Natursymbol an. Rebekka West stammt vom Meere und ist mit dem wechselnden Leben des Meeres vertraut. Ihren Vernichtungskampf gegen die Rivalin vergleicht sie dem Meeressturm. \u00bbGleich einem jener St\u00fcrme, wie wir sie um die Winterszeit oben im Norden haben. Es fa\u00dft einen \u2013 und tr\u00e4gt einen mit fort, \u2013 so weit es tragen kann. An Widerstand ist da nicht zu denken.\u00ab Und als es ruhiger in ihr ward, vergleicht sie diesen Seelenfrieden mit der Stille \u00bbauf einem Vogelberg oben w\u00e4hrend der Mitternachtsonne\u00ab. Noch wenige Augenblicke vor ihrem Sprung ins Wasser erscheint sie dem hellsehenden Blick Ulrik Brendels als \u00bbreizendes Meerweib\u00ab. Ulrik Brendel hat damit dem n\u00e4chsten Werk seines Dichters den Namen gegeben. Am 28. November 1888 erschien \u00bb _Die Frau vom Meere_ \u00ab.\n\nDer Entwurf dieser Dichtung ist erhalten und tr\u00e4gt das Datum des 5. Juni 1888. F\u00fcr die Szenerie ist die Umgegend von Veblungsnes im Innern des Romsdalsfjord benutzt. Die Konzeption mit ihrem breiten, lyrisch-gehobenen Zwischenteil war f\u00fcr Ibsen sozusagen ein Stimmungserzeuger. Der Nachhall seiner Meereswanderungen in Molde (1885) und in dem d\u00e4nischen K\u00fcstenst\u00e4dtchen Saeby (1887) hat bei ihm jenes tiefe Verlangen nach dem Meere erzeugt, das er in der \u00bbVerbannung\u00ab so oft und so schmerzlich empfand. Da sa\u00df er nun, ein Binnenlandgesch\u00f6pf, in seiner M\u00fcnchener Klause und dichtete sein Drama der Meeressehnsucht sich von der Seele. Es geht ein Allerweltskerl durch das St\u00fcck, der alles und gar nichts kann, \u00fcberall und nirgends heimisch ist; dieser Ballested ist u.a. auch Maler; er hat ein Meerweib unter dem Pinsel, das im Brackwasser hinstirbt, weil es nicht mehr ins freie, flie\u00dfende Meer gelangen kann, ins Element, das sein Leben ist. Von der Fischnatur eines solchen Fabelwesens hat Frau Ellida Wangel viel an sich. Sie stammt von der Mitternachtsonne. Als eines Leuchtturmw\u00e4rters Tochter hat sie Kindheit und Jugend auf und in dem Meere hoch oben beim Nordcap zugebracht. Dort hatte sie auch ihren Roman. Ein finnischer Steuermann und sie versprachen sich, gleichsam das Meer als Dritten in ihren Bund aufnehmend, ewige Treue in dem Augenblick, da er fliehen mu\u00dfte, vermutlich weil er ein Gel\u00fcst seines Schiffskapit\u00e4ns mit Todschlag erwidert hatte. Ellida hat ihren Schwur nicht gehalten. Sie lie\u00df sich in die Ehe und vom Meere fortf\u00fchren. Beides bekommt ihr nicht. Was sie durch ihre Ehe aufgab, lastet auf ihrem Gem\u00fct und macht es krank. Der Gatte und seine beiden T\u00f6chter aus erster Ehe leiden darunter. Der Zwang wird ihr immer unertr\u00e4glicher und treibt ihre reizbare Einbildungskraft zu vagen Vorstellungen und Pl\u00e4nen. Aus den bescheidenen, engen, geordneten Verh\u00e4ltnissen lockt und zieht es sie mit unheimlicher Gewalt ins Ungewisse hinein: zum Mann, zum Meer. An der Seite des h\u00f6chst ehrenwerten, \u00e4ltlichen Gatten gedenkt sie jenes h\u00f6chst problematischen Jugendfreunds; und als ihr eheliches Kind die Augen aufschl\u00e4gt, erschreckt sie der seltsame Blick jenes Fremdlings. Fortan ist ihr die Ehe eine Furcht und ein Zwang. Der g\u00fctige Gatte h\u00f6rt auf, W\u00fcnsche an sie zu richten, die sie nur widerstrebend erf\u00fcllen kann, Rechte von ihr zu fordern, die sie ihm versagt. Vielleicht w\u00e4re ihr die Ehe ertr\u00e4glich, wenn ihr der Wohnort des Mannes gefiele; aber, ganz hygienisch gesprochen, das Klima bekommt ihr nicht in der kleinen Fjordstadt, wo das Wasser still, die Luft schw\u00fcl, der Horizont eng ist. Sie krankt nach dem freien, offenen Meer ihrer Heimat; der Gedanke ans Meer verwebt sich in ihr mit dem Gedanken an jenen fremden Mann. Mann und Meer, Meer und Mann, beides hat sie verloren. Das Meer ist so sehr die Heimat ihres Gl\u00fccks, da\u00df sie, nach Menschenart verallgemeinernd, in ihm das Gl\u00fcck und die Heimat der ganzen Menschheit w\u00e4hnt. Wenn sich die Menschen von Anfang an gew\u00f6hnt h\u00e4tten, nur auf dem Meere oder gar in dem Meere zu leben, so w\u00e4ren sie nicht nur besser, sondern auch gl\u00fccklicher. F\u00fcr Ibsen ist das Meer der Inbegriff der Weite, der Gr\u00f6\u00dfe, der Freiheit, Doktor Wangels heimatliches Hafenst\u00e4dtchen und Kur\u00f6rtchen mit seinem alten modrigen Karauschenteich der Inbegriff der Enge und Eingeschlossenheit. Frau Ellida stirbt nicht. Denn der Mensch hat eine Willenskraft und ein Anpassungsverm\u00f6gen, wodurch sich jene Einfl\u00fcsse von Umgebung, Witterung und anderen \u00c4u\u00dferlichkeiten \u00fcberwinden lassen. Der Mensch kann sich, wie Ballested an sich und anderen erfuhr, akklimatisieren.\n\nDie M\u00f6glichkeit des Akklimatisierens ist bei ungew\u00f6hnlichen Naturen so gut vorhanden wie bei gemeinen. Bei Wildenten und bei Allerweltsleuten so gut wie bei Meerfrauen. Einen Ballested macht die liebe Alltagsgew\u00f6hnung in der Fremde heimisch, \u00bbdie zwingende Notwendigkeit\u00ab, wie Ulrik Brendel sagt; daraus ergibt sich das naturgem\u00e4\u00dfe Anpassungsverm\u00f6gen. Eine Ellida braucht dazu noch etwas H\u00f6heres: die Kraft des freien Willens, der sich kein \u00e4u\u00dferer Zwang und Druck mehr widersetzt, weder lockend und ziehend, noch haltend und hemmend. Als der fremde Mann wiederkehrt und die Frau des anderen an ihr altes Verl\u00f6bnis mahnt, \u00bbgraut\u00ab es ihr vor dem Unheimlichen, in dem sie nur ein Phantom liebte; dennoch \u00bblockt\u00ab es sie m\u00e4chtig hin zu ihm, denn ihre Seele ertr\u00e4gt nicht aufgedrungene Pflichten. Ein Fieberwahn bebt durch all ihre Nerven. F\u00fcr die unertr\u00e4gliche Sicherheit will sie lieber das Unsichere. Aber alles das lockt und zieht nur, solange sie sich gebunden f\u00fchlt. Je verst\u00e4ndiger, eindringlicher der Gatte, der zugleich ein Arzt ist, ihr ins Gewissen redet, an ihr Gef\u00fchl und auch an ihre Intelligenz appelliert, desto verworrener wird sie. Endlich gelangt sie im Sturme widerstreitender Gef\u00fchle zu dem flehenden Rufe: gib mich frei! Er tut, was jeder Mann t\u00e4te. Er h\u00e4lt sie fest. Er mahnt und warnt, er tritt der Verlockung kr\u00e4ftig entgegen; als er aber sieht, da\u00df gar nichts hilft, da\u00df die Gewalt des Fremden, der sie durch kein Gewaltmittel zwingen will, der nur ihren freien Entschlu\u00df, ihre Lust und Liebe w\u00fcnscht, st\u00e4rker und st\u00e4rker wird, da fa\u00dft er selbst einen gro\u00dfen Entschlu\u00df. Er gibt sie frei. Er tut dasselbe, was auch der Fremde tat, und wodurch er wieder Macht \u00fcber sie gewann. Auf die Gefahr, da\u00df sie ins Ungewisse, ihrem Tod und ihrer Schmach entgegengehe, stellt er sie, der die Freiheit mehr gilt als das Leben, vor eine freie Wahl. Die Probe, die Noras Helmer nicht bestand, Ellidas Wangel besteht sie. Kaum hat der eigene Gatte, wahrlich ein anderer Christ als Rektor Kroll, in seiner unendlich selbstlosen, langm\u00fctigen und von Herzen dem\u00fctigen Liebe, in seiner Opferf\u00e4higkeit sie freigegeben, so weicht das Phantom; sie erwacht, wie aus einem sinnlich schw\u00fclen Traum, und jubelt auf wie eine Genesene. So mu\u00df einem zumute sein, der im Begriffe stand, im Wahn ein Verbrechen zu begehen, und noch rechtzeitig zur Besinnung kam.\n\nDer Gatte gibt Ellida nicht blo\u00df frei, sondern legt auch die Entscheidung in ihre Hand. Er sagt nicht: \u00bbdort ist der fremde Mann, la\u00df Dich entf\u00fchren!\u00ab, sondern er sagt: \u00bbdort ist jener und hier bin ich! Nun w\u00e4hle!\u00ab Erst dieses freie Wahlrecht, das die Verantwortung f\u00fcr ihre Handlungsweise ihr selbst auferlegt, ist f\u00fcr Ellida entscheidend. \u00bb _Das_ ist es\u00ab, bekr\u00e4ftigt sie, im Schlu\u00dfwort des Dramas.\n\nSehnsucht in die Ferne ist das Leitmotiv dieses Dramas. Sehnsucht in die Ferne ist nicht blo\u00df bei der Frau vom Meere selbst vorhanden, sondern auch bei anderen. Der junge Bildhauer Hans Lyngstrand freut sich auf seine italienische Reise und gef\u00e4llt sich noch mehr in dem Gedanken, fern in der Heimat warte ein liebendes M\u00e4dchen, das voller Sehnsucht an ihn denke; das ist seine Hoffnung, die ihn froh macht, die aber nicht in Erf\u00fcllung gehen wird, denn der arme Tropf hat die Schwindsucht, und in Wahrheit wird seine Reise bald in weitere Fernen gehen als nach Italien. Kein liebendes M\u00e4dchen wird an ihn denken, sondern ein putzs\u00fcchtiges Ding spielt schon jetzt mit dem Trauergewand, das seiner Braut kleidsam w\u00e4re. Er aber ist froh, denn er ist ein \u00bbRindvieh\u00ab und hat den Glauben der Schwinds\u00fcchtigen an langes Leben und Gl\u00fcck. Etwas tr\u00fcber ist die Sehnsucht ins Weite bei Doktor Wangels \u00e4lterer Tochter Bolette. Sie ist begn\u00fcgsam im engen Haushalt, in den kleinen Sorgen des Alltags, aber sie hat den Lerntrieb prosaischer Naturen, die dunkel f\u00fchlen, fern von K\u00fcche und Kleiderschrank gebe es mehr zu sehen. Wie Hedwig Ekdal in ihrer Bodenkammer, so sitzt Bolette Wangel an ihrem dumpfigen und sumpfigen Karauschenteich und beklagt die armen alten Karauschen, da\u00df sie niemals an die Fjordluft und in das Fjordwasser hinaus d\u00fcrfen, wie die gro\u00dfen wilden Seefische. Denn derselbe Fjord, der f\u00fcr die Frau vom Meere den Eingang in die Enge bedeutet, bedeutet f\u00fcr das sinnige Hausm\u00fctterchen Bolette den Ausgang ins Weite. Wenn Hedwig Ekdal \u00fcber den m\u00e4chtig gro\u00dfen Bilderb\u00fcchern sa\u00df und sich eine Welt der Phantasie ausmalte, selbst aber immer daheim bei Vater und Mutter bleiben wollte, besch\u00e4ftigt sich die realistischere Bolette mit botanischen und geographischen Lehrb\u00fcchern, um \u00bbrecht ordentlich zu Hause zu sein in allen Dingen\u00ab. Sie sehnt sich nach der Mitternachtsonne oder auch nach dem M\u00e4dchengymnasium. Sie hat einen dunklen Begriff von der Frauenfrage, aber Versorgung ist ihr lieber; und wenn gute Versorgung mit Ferienreisen und gr\u00fcndlichem Unterricht nicht anders zu haben ist, so nimmt sie auch ihren ehemaligen Lehrer Arnholm, obwohl er eine Glatze kriegt und seit den sch\u00f6nen Hauslehrerzeiten merklich gealtert ist. Mit einem, der ein gutes Herz und Geld im Beutel hat, und f\u00fcr den obendrein nichts \u00bbUnerkl\u00e4rbares\u00ab existiert, kann ein solides und wi\u00dfbegieriges G\u00e4nschen schon auf die Vernunfthochzeitsreise gehen.\n\nNoch schlummernd, aber, wie sich sp\u00e4ter zeigen wird, am m\u00e4chtigsten ist der Trieb in die Ferne bei Hilde Wangel, dem bezaubernd frechen Backfisch, der vorl\u00e4ufig noch nicht \u00fcber das Stadium der Kinderfragen hinaus ist und als richtiges _enfant terrible_ kreuz und quer durch das Empfindungsleben der anderen umherfragt. Ihr eigenes Wesen, so dreist und heftig es sich gibt, steckt noch in der dicken Fr\u00fchlingskapsel. Der Mai ist noch nicht gekommen, der diese Knospe sprengen wird. Dann wird sie, entschlossener als alle anderen, Rucksack und Wanderstab nehmen und ohne Schutz und Beistand, ganz auf eigene Kraft gestellt, ausziehen und die Jugend sein, die an die T\u00fcr des Baumeisters Solne\u00df klopft. Sobald sie die Lockung in die Ferne sp\u00fcrt, wird sie auch schon auf und davon sein.\n\nZwei Pl\u00e4tze sieht der arme Doktor Wangel in seinem Garten: Ellidas \u00bbLusthaus\u00ab dr\u00fcben, die Veranda seiner T\u00f6chter h\u00fcben, und Ellida sagt von ihm: \u00bbAch, Wangel geht so hin und her. Bald ist er hier bei mir und bald ist er dr\u00fcben bei den Kindern\u00ab. Die beiden Pl\u00e4tze in dem Garten sind ein topographisches Symbol f\u00fcr das Zweierlei des ganzen Wangelschen Familienverh\u00e4ltnisses. Jedes der vier Familienmitglieder f\u00fchrt neben der Tagesexistenz in sich noch ein zweites Leben. Der Vater mit seinen beiden T\u00f6chtern ein \u00bbLeben der Erinnerung\u00ab an die selige Mutter dieser Kinder, mit der er \u00bbso unendlich gl\u00fccklich gelebt\u00ab hat und die er durchaus nicht, wie Johannes Rosmer, als eine Leiche auf seinem R\u00fccken tr\u00e4gt. Ellida aber f\u00fchrt ein Leben der Erinnerung an das Meeresb\u00fcndnis; sie ist es, die eine Leiche auf dem R\u00fccken tr\u00e4gt, die Leiche ihres Schwurs. Nun aber ist sie des Schwurs entbunden, nun hat sie die Leiche von sich gesch\u00fcttelt, nun wird sie sich akklimatisieren, nun bl\u00fcht ihrem m\u00fc\u00dfigen Traumdasein sogar eine Lebensaufgabe: Hildes j\u00e4h und ungest\u00fcm aus eingebildetem Ha\u00df aufbrechende, hei\u00dfe Backfischleidenschaft f\u00fcr die interessante, sch\u00f6ne, r\u00e4tselhafte Frau hat ihr die Lebensaufgabe gezeigt: sie will der armen verwilderten Waise fortan eine Mutter sein. So wenigstens steht das Horoskop am \u00bbvers\u00f6hnlichen\u00ab Schlusse des Dramas. Als Ibsen einige Zeit vor Erscheinen des St\u00fccks von einem Freudigbewegten gefragt wurde, ob die frohe Nachricht, sein neues St\u00fcck werde \u00bbgut\u00ab enden, auch wirklich wahr sei, soll er sehr verschmitzt geschmunzelt und nach einer Pause geantwortet haben: \u00bbO ja, aber ganz ohne Teufelei geht es doch wieder nicht ab.\u00ab\n\nSollte sich die Frau vom Meere am Karauschenteich und in der Ehe mit dem guten, lieben, alten Wangel, der sich das Schn\u00e4pseln angew\u00f6hnt hat, doch nicht gar so lange akklimatisiert haben? Das n\u00e4chste Drama, \u00bbHedda Gabler\u00ab, zeigt, was herauskommt, wenn sich ein Weib, in dem der Teufel steckt, mit einem Philister paart. Sollte Ellida wirklich Talent zur Erzieherin haben? Das zweitn\u00e4chste St\u00fcck, \u00bbBaumeister Solne\u00df\u00ab, zeigt, was f\u00fcr ein \u00bbwilder Vogel\u00ab Hilde Wangel geblieben und geworden ist, und wie sie nach wie vor nur das eine Erziehungsresultat ihres Vaters bew\u00e4hrt: \u00bbDie Kinder sind doch nun mal so dran gew\u00f6hnt, ihr eigener Herr zu sein. Sie lassen sich nichts sagen ...\u00ab Ach nein \u2013 ein Iffland ist Ibsen noch immer nicht, obwohl der Kreis guter, froher Menschen, der sich beim Fallen des Vorhangs in \u00bbder Frau vom Meere\u00ab vertr\u00e4glich gruppiert, fast an ein Ende gut, alles gut Ifflands oder wenigstens an die \u00bbSt\u00fctzen der Gesellschaft\u00ab erinnert.\n\nZwei Jahre sp\u00e4ter als Ellida Wangel kam \u00bb _Hedda Gabler_ \u00ab zur Welt, die Titelheldin des Ende 1890 erschienenen vieraktigen Schauspiels, das man die Trag\u00f6die der Ehe mit einem komischen Menschen nennen k\u00f6nnte. Hedda Gabler ist die arm hinterbliebene Tochter eines Generals. Sie teilte die Sportneigungen ihres Vaters: sie ist k\u00fchne Reiterin und spielt mit Schie\u00dfgewehr. Keine Mutter hat sie erzogen. Ein Drang zum gro\u00dfen Leben blieb bei kleiner Umgebung im Gef\u00fchl, da\u00df ihr Leben nicht das lebenswerte Leben ist, ungestillt und erk\u00e4ltete ihr Herz. Immer hat ihr eine verlockende Lebensaufgabe gefehlt. Wie Hauptmann Alvings Lebenslust unter engbr\u00fcstigen Verh\u00e4ltnissen in Unsittlichkeit entartete, so artete der Generalstochter Tatendrang in Grausamkeit und Scheink\u00e4lte aus. Wie Ellida Wangels Element das Wasser ist, so ist Hedda Gablers Element das Feuer. Und wie jenes gutartige Naturkind in der Sehnsucht nach dem freien Meer am Binnengew\u00e4sser verschmachten m\u00f6chte, so treibt diese b\u00f6sartige Kulturdame, von keiner offenen Flammenglut erw\u00e4rmt, Unfug mit dem Stubenfeuer. Sie n\u00e4hert sich schon den Drei\u00dfig. Sie hat sich \u00bbm\u00fcde getanzt\u00ab und, verwaist wie sie ist, wollte sie \u00bbversorgt\u00ab sein.\n\nUnter den Courmachern w\u00e4ren drei in Betracht gekommen. Der eine, Assessor Brack, ist ein witziger Gesellschafter voll Geist, beh\u00e4big-frivoler Lebemann, j\u00fcnger als seine Jahre, stets bereit, mit Mann und Weib ein \u00bbdreieckiges Verh\u00e4ltnis\u00ab bilden zu helfen. Der andere, \u00bbStaatsstipendiat\u00ab J\u00f6rgen Tesman, ist eine t\u00f6lpelhafte, aber fidele B\u00fccherwanze; er ist wie Hjalmar Ekdal ein Tantens\u00f6hnchen, der Spr\u00f6\u00dfling eines Pedanten, ein Sammel- und Ordnungsmensch, der arbeitselig strebt und \u00e4ngstlich drauf bedacht ist, es weit in seinem \u00bbFach\u00ab zu bringen; er hat daraufhin eine Professur in Sicht; f\u00fcr mittlere Anspr\u00fcche eine recht gute Partie, f\u00fcr Bolettenfr\u00e4uleins fast so gut wie Oberlehrer Arnholm. Der dritte, Ejlert L\u00f6vborg, ist eine genialische Bummelnatur; Wein und Weiber sind ihm gef\u00e4hrlich; er ist den Weibern gef\u00e4hrlich; im Gegensatz zum strebsamen Fachmenschen eine wissenschaftliche, uneigenn\u00fctzige Pers\u00f6nlichkeit, selten zur Tat f\u00e4hig, aber, einmal aufgerafft, gro\u00df und bedeutend. Assessor Brack, der \u00fcber eine mehr oder minder lauwarme Vertraulichkeit nie hinaus kommt, und Ejlert L\u00f6vborg w\u00e4ren zur Liebschaft, nicht zur Ehe angetan. Reelle Absichten hat nur J\u00f6rgen Tesman. Hedda nimmt den Gleichg\u00fcltigsten und erf\u00e4hrt bald, da\u00df der nichts ahnende St\u00fcmper ihr mehr als gleichg\u00fcltig, da\u00df er ihr ekelhaft ist. Seine t\u00e4ppischen Ausdr\u00fccke verletzen ihren Sch\u00f6nheitssinn, sein Plappern mit dem ewigen kneifzangenartigen Frageton zum Schlu\u00df ritzt ihre Nerven, seine hausbackenen Verst\u00f6\u00dfe gegen den gesellschaftlichen Takt emp\u00f6ren sie. Aus Hedda Gabler ist innerlich durch die Ehe keineswegs eine Hedda Tesman geworden. Wie Ibsen (4. Dez. 1890) an den Grafen Prozor schrieb, hatte er durch die Wahl des Titels andeuten wollen, da\u00df Hedda als Pers\u00f6nlichkeit mehr Tochter ihres Vaters, als Gattin ihres Mannes sein soll.\n\nDas St\u00fcck beginnt am Morgen nach der R\u00fcckkehr des ungleichen Paars von einer halbj\u00e4hrigen Hochzeitsreise. Die geistige Unzusammengeh\u00f6rigkeit der beiden Gatten wird sofort deutlich. Hedda schroff, kalt, launisch, anspruchsvoll. Er ein Gem\u00fctsmenschchen. Vom Wesen Heddas bemerkt er so wenig, wie Helmer vom Wesen Noras. Aber behaglicher und t\u00f6richter als Helmer spielt er nicht, wie dieser, den Herrn, sondern wird fr\u00f6hlichen Herzens die Null im Hause. Gleich der erste Tag f\u00fchrt sowohl den alten Courmacher Brack, als auch den einstigen Geliebten Ejlert L\u00f6vborg ins Haus. Mit jenem wird get\u00e4ndelt, mit diesem wird es ernst. Beide Male kommen General Gablers Pistolen in Frage, das tragische Requisit des Dramas. Auf jenen zielt Hedda in tierqu\u00e4lerischer Spiellaune, diesem dr\u00fcckt sie zu ungewissem Ende dieselbe Todeswaffe, die schon einmal seinem Leben eine Wendung gab, in die Hand. Nach wie vor bedeuten ihr beide M\u00e4nner mehr als das eigene M\u00e4nnchen, von dem sie widerwillig unter dem vereisten Herzen ein Tesm\u00e4nchen entstehen f\u00fchlt. Mit Brack kann sie witzig-zweideutig, jedoch auch ernsthaft konversieren. L\u00f6vborg ist der Sinn ihres Lebens; zu ihm stand sie \u00e4hnlich, wie Rebekka West zum Pfarrer Rosmer stand. Aber w\u00e4hrend sich Rebekkas verwilderter D\u00e4mon an der edlen Natur des Freundes sittlich adelte, liegt hier der verwilderte D\u00e4mon mehr im Mann; das Weib gewann auf die Dauer keine Macht \u00fcber den Freund, weil ihr eigenes Wesen nicht adlig war. Die vergn\u00fcgungss\u00fcchtige Generalstochter wird nie ein froher Adelsmensch werden. Hedda nahm als junges M\u00e4dchen die S\u00fcndenbeichte des J\u00fcnglings entgegen, aber nicht um seine Seele davon zu l\u00f6sen, sondern aus niederer Wi\u00dfbegier nach den s\u00fcndhaften Gegenst\u00e4nden der Beichte. Sie konnte ihn nicht adeln, sie konnte ihn nur reizen; als seine Sinne ihr entgegenloderten, wehrte sie sich mit der Pistole; denn sie war \u00bbfeig\u00ab, wie Helene Alving. Sie war zu \u00bbfeig\u00ab, seine Glut gegen die ihrige auszutauschen; sie war auch zu \u00bbfeig\u00ab, d.h. zu vorsichtig, den Andringenden niederzuschie\u00dfen. Rebekka West h\u00e4tte eins oder das andere getan! Hedda Gabler fehlte der Mut ihres Willens und auch die Liebesglut und Liebeskraft, den Freund umzuwandeln, wie es Rosmer bei Rebekka vermochte. Ejlert L\u00f6vborg ging von ihr, wie Nora von Helmer geht. Heddas Liebe \u2013 f\u00fcr sie konnte Liebe im ehelichen Verkehr etwas \u00bbKlebriges\u00ab werden \u2013 war nie stark, nie innig genug, ihn zu halten und zu heben. Sie vermochte nicht das, was bald darauf ein physisch zarteres, geistig schw\u00e4cheres Wesen vermochte: die kleine scheue Frau Elvsted, die seinethalb Mann und Pflicht verl\u00e4\u00dft, nachdem sie den ehrbar Geliebten t\u00e4tig und enthaltsam auf Zeit gemacht hatte. Die opferfreudige, reine Neigung hat dem guten Gesch\u00f6pf vor\u00fcbergehend dieselbe Kraft gegeben, die Doktor Wangel an Ellida erprobte. Zwischen Frau Elvsted und Hedda Gabler steht Ejlert L\u00f6vborg, wie die Frau vom Meere zwischen ihrem Gatten und dem fremden Manne stand. Hedda und der fremde Mann sind das ungewisse Element, das den D\u00e4mon lockt und zieht: sei es zum Gr\u00f6\u00dften, sei es ins Nichts. Der brave Doktor Wangel und die gute Frau Elvsted sind die schlichte, opferfreudige und hingebende Liebe, die den unheimlichen Zauber bannen k\u00f6nnte.\n\nWirklich schien Ejlert L\u00f6vborg von seinem D\u00e4mon losgekommen und vermochte sich in der Kameradschaft mit Thea Elvsted f\u00fcr ein geordnetes Leben zu veredeln und umzuwandeln; aber es dauert nicht lange; die erste Gelegenheit zur Verf\u00fchrung rei\u00dft diesen Quartalss\u00e4ufer wieder in den alten Taumel. Ein einziger lustiger Herrenabend, zu dem ihn Hedda Gablers Teufelei aus eifers\u00fcchtiger Bosheit gegen seine Freundin und, um ihn auf eine gef\u00e4hrliche Probe zu stellen, verf\u00fchrt hat, gen\u00fcgt, allen guten Vorsatz zu vergessen, ihn so trunken und ausschweifend zu machen, wie nur je. Thea Elvsteds Macht war nicht getragen von einem festen Glauben an den Freund. Sie zweifelte von vornherein an seiner Standhaftigkeit und war ihm daher in Angst und Sorge an den Ort der Gefahren nachgereist. Kaum wird durch Hedda Gablers satanische Versuchung L\u00f6vborg diese Zweifel gewahr, so ist es auch um die Macht Theas geschehen, und L\u00f6vborg geht, sicher, die Anfechtung zu bestehen und nicht wieder in alte L\u00fcste zu fallen, trotzig nun erst recht zum Gelage. Aber er besteht die Probe nicht. Die kleinm\u00fctige Thea beh\u00e4lt recht, Heddas Glaube wird get\u00e4uscht. Er kommt nicht, wie Hedda hoffte, \u00bbmit Weinlaub im Haar, hei\u00df und voll Freude\u00ab als Sieger zur\u00fcck, der die Macht \u00fcber sich selbst gewonnen hat und nun ein freier Mann f\u00fcrs Leben geworden ist; sondern er kommt zur\u00fcck, wie Thea f\u00fcrchtete, unw\u00fcrdig \u00fcberw\u00e4ltigt von niedrigen Trieben. So wenig wie Heddas eigens\u00fcchtige Feigheit, so wenig hatte Theas angstvolle Obacht Kraft, ihn zu retten; Thea konnte nur \u00bbihre Finger in einem Menschenschicksal haben\u00ab, ohne es zum Siege zu f\u00fchren, und Hedda mu\u00df, voller Ekel vor sich und der Welt, bekennen, da\u00df sich das L\u00e4cherliche und Gemeine wie ein Fluch auf alles legt, was sie nur anr\u00fchrt. W\u00e4hrend sich jenes frei gewordene Paar auf Rosmersholm in sch\u00f6ner S\u00fchne selber freudig das Todesurteil spricht, w\u00e4hrend die Frau vom Meere an der freigebenden Liebe des Gatten gesundet, verfehlt Ejlert L\u00f6vborg das \u00bbsch\u00f6ne\u00ab Ende, wozu Heddas Hand ihm die Waffe reichte. Nicht in freier Wahl bewu\u00dften Willens richtet er die Pistole gegen seine Schl\u00e4fe, sondern geistesverwirrt oder trunken endet er voll w\u00fcrdeloser Wut bei einer Dirne durch einen Zufallsschu\u00df in die Ged\u00e4rme. Dies unfreie und unsch\u00f6ne Ende bewahrt den Genialen vor dem langwierigen Gossenschicksal des alten idealistischen Vagabunden Ulrik Brendel. Aber dies kl\u00e4gliche Ende zieht Hedda Gabler nach sich, die ein einziges Mal in ihrem Leben die Herrschaft \u00fcber ein Menschenschicksal haben wollte. Wie sie in der Backfischzeit eine diabolische Lust anwandelte, ihrer Schulgenossin Thea das hellgelbe Kraushaar abzusengen, so gibt sie jetzt Ejlert L\u00f6vborg zum \u00bbsch\u00f6nen\u00ab Tode die Waffe in die Hand und verbrennt sein von Thea niedergeschriebenes Zukunftswerk, worin \u00bbTheas reine Seele\u00ab war, das den beiden in ihrer gemeinsamen Begeisterung, in ihrer Begeisterung durch einander wie ihr leibhaftiges Kind (libri sunt liberi) erschienen war. Ein teils durch scheele Eifersucht, teils durch ihre Schwangerschaft krankhaft \u00fcberreizter, d\u00e4monischer Zerst\u00f6rungswahn hat im \u00fcbern\u00e4chtigen Zustand dieses Weib erfa\u00dft, das an der Seite des \u00bbkomischen\u00ab Gatten, von ihm ein unerw\u00fcnschtes Kind in der Hoffnung, in der Angst vor den Widerw\u00e4rtigkeiten der Entbindung, von kleinem Esprit, kleiner Sinnlichkeit und kleinem Streben winzig bekrochen, dunkel nach dem Sch\u00f6nen schmachtet, aber vom Hergebrachten, Mittelm\u00e4\u00dfigen, Gesellschaftlichen nicht los kann. Vor der Wahl, Ejlert L\u00f6vborgs wegen entweder Hauptperson einer gemeinen Skandalaffaire zu werden oder f\u00fcr immer unfrei von der anspruchsvollen Diskretion des begehrlichen Hausfreundes Brack abzuh\u00e4ngen, fa\u00dft sie ihren kurzen gro\u00dfen Entschlu\u00df, nachdem sie in Ejlert L\u00f6vborg vernichtet hat, was sterblich und vielleicht unsterblich an ihm gewesen ist: sein Leben und sein Werk. Wenn Ejlert L\u00f6vborg blind und wirr und \u00bbohne Sch\u00f6nheit\u00ab starb, so stirbt sie, die zeitlebens von allem, was widerw\u00e4rtig ist, verschont bleiben wollte, in d\u00e4monischer Lust, mit einem Sarkasmus auf den Lippen. Wie die kleine \u00bbWildentenmutter\u00ab Hedwig Ekdal, wie Rosmer und Rebekka, tut sie \u00bbeine freiwillige Tat des Muts .... eine Tat, auf die ein Schimmer von unwillk\u00fcrlicher Sch\u00f6nheit f\u00e4llt\u00ab. Sie tut etwas, wovon selbst ein sinnreicherer Durchschnittsmensch, wie Assessor Brack, voller Entsetzen meint, so was sage man h\u00f6chstens, so was tue man doch nicht: sie schie\u00dft sich durch die Schl\u00e4fe. Eine zu Gro\u00dfem, Elementarem aufgelegte, von der kleinen Gesellschaftswelt zerkleinerte B\u00eate humaine-Natur erlischt in Nichts. Ein starkes Wollen, dem ein fast ebenso starkes K\u00f6nnen nicht fehlt, endet im kl\u00e4glichsten Irrtum, denn auch die Freiwilligkeit ihres Sch\u00f6nheitstodes war eine Einbildung. Er war der Ausflu\u00df eines \u00fcberreizten, krankhaften Nervenzustandes. Wie bei Hedwig Ekdals Opfertat die werdende Pubert\u00e4t, die Suggestion eines anderen, das tr\u00fcbe Wetter des dunklen Wintertages mitwirkten, so wirkt bei Hedda Gablers Sch\u00f6nheitstat neben ihrem Frauenzustand und den Erregungen ihrer Seele auch noch die durchwachte Nacht, eine Nacht des unabl\u00e4ssigen, gespannten Wartens mit. Was als Willensfreiheit erscheint, ist abh\u00e4ngig von \u00e4u\u00dferen Bedingungen. Das ist der h\u00f6hnische Pessimismus dieses Dramas, das trotz den beiden Pistolensch\u00fcssen eine rechte Kom\u00f6die ist und die meiste \u00c4hnlichkeit mit der \u00bbWildente\u00ab hat.\n\nWie alle rechten Kom\u00f6dien schlie\u00dft das St\u00fcck auch mit einer, freilich ehrbar fernen Aussicht auf Hochzeit. Nach dem z\u00fcchtigen Trauerjahr werden Hedda Gablers Witwer und die separierte Frau Thea Elvsted, geb. Rysing sich wohl im Bl\u00e4ttchen als Verlobte empfehlen. Und die liebe, gute, sorgliche, alte Tante Julie, der von der b\u00f6sen Hedda immer so h\u00e4\u00dflich vergolten wurde, wird dann erst recht \u00fcber das Gl\u00fcck ihres lieben Jungen freudestrahlen, und bei der ersten Taufe wird Assessor Brack, h\u00f6hnisch in sich hineingrinsend, Gevatter stehen. So l\u00e4uft das brave schlimme Weltchen in Lieb' und Treu' und Falschheit auf behaglicher Mittelstra\u00dfe fort; weitab von aller Gr\u00f6\u00dfe und Ganzheit und Sch\u00f6nheit, weitab auch von zwei Gr\u00e4bern hinter der Kirchhofsmauer. Und dabei beherbergt diese b\u00f6se Hedda Gabler-Welt einen wahren Schatz von Liebe und G\u00fcte und uneigenn\u00fctzigster Opferwilligkeit: das ist Tante Julie. Dieselbe alte bornierte Jungfer, die, mit den Augen Hedda Gablers und des Assessors Brack gesehen, so l\u00e4cherlich erschien, die f\u00fcr ihren t\u00f6richten J\u00f6rgen der h\u00f6chste Appellhof in allen Lebensdingen ist, und die ihrerseits f\u00fcr ihren t\u00f6richten J\u00f6rgen lebt und stirbt, deren Gedanken und Empfindungen sich immer nur um andere k\u00fcmmern \u2013 welch ein lauteres, heiteres Menschenbild! Tante Julie ist eine von jenen geistig Armen, denen das Reich Gottes gewi\u00df ist. Wo sie liebt, liebt sie bis zur Selbstvernichtung; der Ha\u00df ist ihrer G\u00fcte wie ihrer Enge ein fremdes Gef\u00fchl. Sie ist in den Willen der h\u00f6heren Macht so ergeben, da\u00df auch ein Verlust nicht zur Klage oder gar Anklage verleiten kann. Liebend und gefa\u00dft steht die alte Dame am Totenbett ihrer n\u00e4chsten Lebensgef\u00e4hrtin; vom offenen Grabe kehrt sich ihre selbstlose Hoffnung sofort dem Entstehenden zu. Ihre Stimmung fa\u00dft diese Samariterin unbeschadet ihrer kleinb\u00fcrgerlichen Umschr\u00e4nktheit zu dem hochgemuten Imperativ zusammen: \u00bbDu sollst froh sein in der Trauer\u00ab.\n\nWeh Dir, Du bist unfroh in Deinem Gl\u00fcck, denn Dein Gl\u00fcck f\u00e4llt Dir auf das Gewissen. Du leidest unter Deinen Errungenschaften! Das ist es, was in Ibsens n\u00e4chstem, im M\u00e4rz 1892 entworfenem und am 12. Dezember erschienenem Drama \u00bb _Baumeister Solne\u00df_ \u00ab zur Katastrophe f\u00fchrt. Wenn ein Neubau unter Dach ist, pflegt an der obersten Spitze beim Wetterhahn ein Kranz befestigt zu werden. Der Baumeister Solne\u00df hat es nur zweimal in seinem Leben gewagt, himmelan so hoch zu steigen, wie er selber gebaut hat. Das erste Mal war es eine Entscheidung seines Lebens, das zweite Mal kostet es ihn sein Leben. Das erste Mal stand eine Kirche fertig da; er kletterte bis zur Turmspitze hinauf. Das zweite Mal steht sein eigenes neues Wohnhaus da, dem er auch einen Turm gegeben hat: \u00bbetwas, das hinaufweist \u2013 frei in die L\u00fcfte hinauf\u00ab, und wieder klettert er bis zur Spitze dieses Turms empor. Auch diesmal gelingt es ihm, den Kranz oben aufzuh\u00e4ngen; aber kaum ist das geschehen, so fa\u00dft ihn der Schwindel; er kommt mit zerschmettertem Kopf unten an, dort, wo er im Alltagsleben stand.\n\nZehn Jahre liegen zwischen der ersten und der zweiten Kranzbefestigung. Beide Mal ist Zeuge davon ein junges M\u00e4dchen, das dem k\u00fchnen Steiger staunend nachblickt und ihm zujubelt, als er droben steht \u00bban der allerobersten Spitze! Leibhaftig!\u00ab Schon das erste Mal h\u00e4tte ihn das wilde Jauchzen dieses \u00bbTeufelsm\u00e4dels\u00ab beinah aus dem Gleichgewicht gebracht. Jetzt, zehn Jahre sp\u00e4ter, steht das Kind von dazumal als ein h\u00f6chst gef\u00e4hrliches Fr\u00e4ulein unten auf der Lauer; als sie ihn wieder auf den obersten Brettern sieht, so gro\u00df und so frei, wie sie ihn vor sich gesehen hat all die zehn Jahre lang; als sie sieht, wie er den Hut schwenkt, da bricht wieder ein wilder Jubel in ihr aus, und wie damals, so ruft sie auch jetzt: Es lebe der Baumeister Solne\u00df! Das h\u00f6rt er, und er f\u00e4llt herab. Weh dem Armen, der sich h\u00f6her emportreiben l\u00e4\u00dft, als in seinen Kr\u00e4ften steht. Damals, bei der Kirchweihe, hat er froh des Gelungenen und in Weinlaune mit dem h\u00fcbschen halbw\u00fcchsigen Ding get\u00e4ndelt. Er hatte sie in den Arm genommen, gek\u00fc\u00dft, viele Male hintereinander, und ihr ein Versprechen gegeben: nach zehn Jahren werde er wiederkommen, seine \u00bbPrinzessin Hilde\u00ab mit sich nehmen und ihr ein K\u00f6nigreich schenken. F\u00fcr ihn war das nur ein Scherz mit einem Kind, und Kind und Scherz waren schnell vergessen. Zur\u00fcck blieb blo\u00df die Spur eines Eindrucks, dessen Verlust sein Ged\u00e4chtnis qu\u00e4lt. Anders erging es dem Kinde selbst. F\u00fcr sie war dies ganze Abenteuer das gro\u00dfe Ereignis ihres jungen Lebens. Darin schwelgte ihre kindliche Phantasie, davon n\u00e4hrte sich ihr Zukunftstraum. Er wurde ihr Ideal, dieser Baumeister. Mit solchen Einbildungen wuchs Hilde Wangel, die Stieftochter der Frau vom Meere, heran; aus der Kindesphantasie gingen sie allm\u00e4hlich \u00fcber in einen M\u00e4dchenwunsch, der sich verwirklichen lie\u00dfe. Der ferne Baumeister blieb ihr Ideal, das ihr immer erreichbarer deuchte. Denn \u00bbdas dumme K\u00f6nigreich\u00ab, das er ihr versprochen hat, hei\u00dft nicht Apfelsinia, wie er es neckend nannte, sondern das K\u00f6nigreich ist er selbst; ist das Luftschlo\u00df, das er ihr bauen soll, mit einer Grundmauer. Nun sind die zehn Jahre um. Fr\u00e4ulein Hilde macht es mit ihrem Baumeister, wie weiland der Prophet mit dem Berge. Resolut und robust, wie sie ist, wandert sie mutterseelenallein ins Land hinaus. Mit Bergstock und Touristenjacke, ohne Koffer und Geld, tritt sie eines Herbstabends in das Arbeitszimmer des Baumeisters Solne\u00df. Nicht wie ein dem\u00fctig ergebenes K\u00e4thchen vor ihrem Wetter vom Strahl, sondern mit sehr praktischen Absichten, sehr kritischen Blicken steht sie vor ihm; im Nu hat sie die Oberhand. Sie will sich \u00fcberzeugen, wie der Mann ihrer Tr\u00e4ume dem gereifteren Weibesauge vorkommt.\n\nWas sie an ihm findet, erf\u00fcllt sie mit sehr gemischten Empfindungen. In allen \u00e4u\u00dferlichen Dingen ist sie wenig mit ihm zufrieden. Bald kommt er ihr wie eine Schlafm\u00fctze vor, bald erscheint er ihr, wie Helmer der Nora, kleinlich im Verkehr mit seinen Untergebenen. Ja, es gibt Momente, wo sie ihn sich so geringsch\u00e4tzig betrachtet, wie Hedda Gabler ihren Staatsstipendiaten. Auch Menschenfurcht entdeckt sie an ihrem Helden. Aber je mehr sie Ansto\u00df im einzelnen an ihm nimmt, desto eifriger trachtet sie, mit der tierqu\u00e4lerischen Freude Hedda Gablers, aus den Geheimnissen seines Wesens ihr altes Traumbild herauszulocken. Kein anderer als er solle auf der Welt bauen d\u00fcrfen. Dann sucht sie sein \u00bbsieches Gewissen\u00ab zu kr\u00e4ftigen, damit er sich das getraue, was er am liebsten m\u00f6chte, wie die alten Wikinger, die da pl\u00fcnderten und sengten und brannten und Weiber raubten und sch\u00e4ndeten und dann heimkamen, so fr\u00f6hlich wie die Kinder, ohne Bewu\u00dftsein ihrer Untaten. Ein solcher gewaltt\u00e4tiger Wikinger, das w\u00e4re Hildes Mann. Den k\u00f6nnte sie lieb gewinnen, eben ob der Gewalttat. Etwas von solchem Gewaltmenschen steckt allerdings auch in ihrem Baumeister, denn er hat andere Leute vernichtet, um Platz f\u00fcr sich selbst zu schaffen. Aber dann kehrte er nicht fr\u00f6hlich heim, die Fr\u00fcchte der Gewalttat behaglich zu genie\u00dfen, sondern sein Erfolg machte ihn unfroh, ihn qu\u00e4lte die Furcht vor der Vergeltung. Dies Allzumenschliche neben dem Menschlichen macht ihn klein und krank und traurig. Aber gerade darin, im zarten Bau eines Gewissens, das keinen Sto\u00df vertr\u00e4gt, das Schweres nicht heben noch tragen kann, liegt eine innere seelische Kraft, von der Hilde seltsam angezogen wird. Denn im Verkehr mit ihm beginnt auch ihr eigenes, \u00bbrobustes\u00ab Gewissen zu kr\u00e4nkeln. Wie Rosmer auf Rebekka ethisch abf\u00e4rbte, so beginnt Solne\u00df auf Hilde abzuf\u00e4rben. An ihren naiven Grausamkeitstrieb, an ihre Wollust zum Schaurigen dr\u00e4ngt sich ganz leis ein zartes Mitleid mit Nebenmenschen. Sie selbst veranla\u00dft den Baumeister zu einem guten Werk gegen die, deren Vergeltung er f\u00fcrchtet. Sie war gekommen, ihren Baumeister zur Untreu zu reizen; \u2013 jetzt, da sie dessen verungl\u00fcckte Frau kennt, vermag sie es nicht mehr: \u00bbIch _kann_ nicht Schlimmes zuf\u00fcgen einer, die ich _kenne_! ... Einer Fremden, ja! Das ist etwas ganz andres. Einer, die ich in meinem Leben nicht gesehen h\u00e4tte. Aber nun es eine ist, der ich nahe getreten bin \u2013! Nein! O nein! Pfui!\u00ab An dieser naiven Moral sucht sich die B\u00eate humaine in ihr zu z\u00e4hmen; schon fa\u00dft sie den Entschlu\u00df, abzureisen und ihr K\u00f6nigreich zu verlassen. Der Bau ihrer Zukunft, den sie vom Baumeister erwartete, wird ihr ein Luftschlo\u00df. Sie will abreisen, aber ihr Wille ist gebannt. Umst\u00e4nde, die in der Natur der Sache liegen, dr\u00e4ngen sich dazwischen. Ein armes M\u00e4dchen reizt ihre Eifersucht, ein armer Bursch zweifelt an der Kraft und dem Mut ihres Baumeisters. Das stachelt den eingeschl\u00e4ferten \u00bbTroll\u00ab in ihr auf; sie ger\u00e4t in eine Fieberglut und versetzt ihren Baumeister in eine Fieberglut; sie ruft unb\u00e4ndig: \u00bbIch will und mu\u00df es sehen\u00ab. Was sie sehen will und mu\u00df, erscheint wie ein kindischer Frevel; sie hetzt auf Tod und Leben ihren Baumeister empor zur Turmspitze. Aber dieser Frevel ist nur der kindische Ausdruck einer gro\u00dfen Empfindung, die unbewu\u00dft in ihr lebt, und die der Baumeister selbst erst dadurch zum Bewu\u00dftsein bringt, da\u00df auch in ihm dieselbe gro\u00dfe Empfindung durch sie zum Bewu\u00dftsein kommt.\n\nDer Turmbau ist das \u00e4u\u00dfere Sinnbild einer Sehnsucht nach innerer Aufbauung; und Auferstehung. Diese Baumeistertrag\u00f6die ist eine andere Art von Freimaurerei, ein Streben nach freier, einsamer, sich selbst erschaffender, sich selbst ausbauender Menschengr\u00f6\u00dfe. So gro\u00df und frei und allein Hildes Kinderblick einst den Baumeister Solne\u00df an der Turmspitze stehen sah, mit dem Kranz in der Hand, so gro\u00df und frei und allein m\u00f6chte seine Seele sich selbst finden. Ein Kampf um ein h\u00f6heres Dasein, als das vom Schicksal gebotene, wird hier gek\u00e4mpft. Er endet mit einer Niederlage. Die niederen Kr\u00e4fte des Lebens sind in ihrer Gesamtheit st\u00e4rker als das Ringen der Seele zum Hohen. Diese niederen Lebenskr\u00e4fte liegen teils au\u00dferhalb, teils innerhalb dessen, der mit ihnen k\u00e4mpft; sie liegen teils in seinem Schicksal, teils in seinem Wesen. Das Schicksal lie\u00df diesen Mann, der sich autodidaktisch aus kleinen Verh\u00e4ltnissen emporarbeiten mu\u00dfte, nicht die rechte Frau und nicht den rechten Spielraum finden. Was er w\u00fcnscht und denkt, findet weit in der Ferne in der Seele eines M\u00e4dchens den Widerhall; die nahe Gattin schleicht leidvoll daran vor\u00fcber. In seiner ersten lyrischen Vorarbeit zu diesem Drama hat Ibsen ganz besonders das Alltagsleben des Ehepaares Solne\u00df bedacht . Wichtiger aber als das Schicksal ist das Wesen des Mannes. Diesen \u00bbarmen Burschen vom Lande\u00ab verzehrt der brennendste Ehrgeiz. Um sich als einen Einzigen durchzusetzen, tritt er anderes Menschengl\u00fcck mit F\u00fc\u00dfen, aber kaum ist das geschehen, so raubt ihm sein Gewissen die Seelenruhe und die Kraft zum Weiterk\u00e4mpfen. Selbst da, wo ohne sein Zutun nur ein heimlicher Wunsch von ihm in Erf\u00fcllung ging, klagt er vor sich selbst diesen heimlichen Wunsch als den Misset\u00e4ter an. So ist dieser \u00e4u\u00dferlich gl\u00fcckliche Mann innerlich ein ungl\u00fcckseliger Mensch. Aus der Angst um zertretene Vorg\u00e4nger f\u00e4llt er in die Angst vor zertretenden Nachfolgern, \u2013 so steht er unfrei nach beiden Seiten hin zwischen den beiden Broviks, dem Vater und dem Sohn. Dieser begr\u00fcndeten Qual gesellt sich in seinem Gewissen noch eine schwerere bei, f\u00fcr die ein realer Grund nicht vorhanden ist. Das Lebensgl\u00fcck seiner Frau ist zerst\u00f6rt; es ist zerst\u00f6rt, indem sich sein sehnlichster Wunsch erf\u00fcllte; wenn er selbst auch nichts daf\u00fcr tat, ihn zu erf\u00fcllen, so gibt er doch den geheimnisvollen Seelenm\u00e4chten, der Gedankens\u00fcnde die Kraft des Vollbringens. Telepathische und sympathetische Vorstellungen spielen in dieses gequ\u00e4lte Herz hinein. Er glaubt an Wirkung in die Ferne. Er w\u00fcnschte den Brand des Elternhauses seiner Frau: ohne sein Zutun verbrannte das Haus, dar\u00fcber starben seine Kinder, dar\u00fcber wurde seine Frau unfruchtbar, dar\u00fcber starb das eheliche Gl\u00fcck, und alles das legt der Baumeister sich selbst zur Last. Umsomehr, als Wirkung in die Ferne seine Gedankenreihe immer von neuem aufst\u00f6rt. Es sind gleiche Gedanken, gleiche W\u00fcnsche, die w\u00e4hrend all der zehn Jahre wie in ihm, so auch in Hilde lebendig waren. Alle diese Gedanken, alle diese W\u00fcnsche gehen auf _ein_ Ziel. Im Steigen wie im Sinken haben diese beiden Menschen die gleichen Gef\u00fchle. \u00dcber die n\u00fcchterne Vernunft, \u00fcber den gesunden Menschenverstand, \u00fcber das Erreichbare empor r\u00fcckt oder \u00bbverr\u00fcckt\u00ab sich dieses Ziel nach dem Unm\u00f6glichen. Baumeister Solne\u00df baut immer noch Kinderstuben, obgleich seine Frau ihm niemals mehr Kinder schenken kann; er fragt Hilde, der das ganz \u00bbverr\u00fcckt\u00ab vorkommt, ob sie nie gemerkt habe, da\u00df das Unm\u00f6gliche einen gewisserma\u00dfen locke und rufe. Hilde wird sich nun klar \u00fcber Triebe, die sie selbst empfunden hat. \u00bbDas Unm\u00f6gliche? O ja! Geht das _Ihnen_ auch so?\u00ab Was die Beteiligten im Gef\u00fchl ihrer eigenen Unzul\u00e4nglichkeit das Unm\u00f6gliche nennen, k\u00f6nnte ein unabh\u00e4ngigerer Standpunkt das \u00dcbermenschliche nennen, das zum Unmenschlichen wird, wo des \u00bb\u00dcbermenschen\u00ab Kraft auf halbem Weg erlahmt. Solne\u00df hat nur den Wunsch und nicht die Kraft zum \u00dcbermenschen. Zwar ist der Wunsch in ihm so stark, da\u00df der Wunsch im entscheidenden Momente zur Tat wird, aber es ist nicht die eigene Leistung, die das verwirklicht, sondern es sind geheimnisvolle M\u00e4chte, die als Helfer dienen. \u00bbUnd _das_ nennen die Leute \u203aGl\u00fcck haben\u2039.\u00ab Der Mensch ist nicht der T\u00e4ter seiner Taten; sein Gl\u00fcck ist, wie dieser Kampf ums Dasein einmal liegt, das Ungl\u00fcck anderer. Das ist es, was dem Baumeister aufs Gewissen f\u00e4llt, was ihn zugleich in Furcht setzt vor denen, die sich selber ihr Gl\u00fcck schmieden k\u00f6nnen, denen Unm\u00f6glicheres vielleicht auf seine Kosten erreichbar ist; das ist es, was ihn in Furcht setzt vor der Jugend, die an seine T\u00fcr donnern und ihn von seinem K\u00fcnstlerplatz verdr\u00e4ngen k\u00f6nnte. In diesem seelischen Kampf steht der Baumeister gegen\u00fcber seinem Lebenswerk. Er traut dem Gl\u00fcck nicht, das ihm half, weil diese Hilfe au\u00dferhalb der eigenen Kraft steht; was er durch eigene Kraft erreichte, qu\u00e4lt sein zart gebautes Gewissen. Auch wo der \u00e4u\u00dfere Zufall seine geheimsten W\u00fcnsche erf\u00fcllt, klagt er vor seinem Gewissen seine W\u00fcnsche an. Dieser Zwiespalt von Gewissen und Tatkraft macht ihn zu einer hamletischen Natur.\n\nDiesem Hamlet, der ein Macbeth sein m\u00f6chte, ist eine Frau an die Seite gegeben, die nichts von einer Lady Macbeth hat. Sie nimmt die Nichtigkeiten dieser Erde schwer und h\u00e4ngt ihr Herz an Unbedeutendheiten des eigenen Erlebens. Wie Nora Helmer ihre Kinder als Puppen behandelt, so behandelt Aline Solne\u00df ihre Puppen als Kinder; wo ihre kleinen gen\u00fcgsamen Daseinsfreuden aufh\u00f6ren, beginnt f\u00fcr ihre frierende Seele ein \u00f6der Pflichtstandpunkt, dem Lust und Liebe, \u00bbdie Fittiche zu gro\u00dfen Taten\u00ab, fehlen, der Standpunkt einer Pflicht, an der sie und andere sterben k\u00f6nnen. Am wenigsten versteht sie den dunklen Drang ihres Mannes. So ist diese Ehe bei aller gegenseitigen Achtung \u00bbeine Totengruft\u00ab. Wie Pastor Rosmer, ist auch Baumeister Solne\u00df \u00bbbei lebendigem Leibe an eine Tote gekettet\u00ab. Mit Hilde kommt, um in Hildes Stil zu reden, Leben in seine Bude. Sie ist die Jugend, die an seine T\u00fcr pocht; die er zwar freudig willkommen hei\u00dft, mit ihrer neuen Fahne, die ihn zuletzt aber doch zerschmettert. Denn ohne Hilde stiege der Baumeister nicht empor, um herabzust\u00fcrzen. Er w\u00e4re im Alltagsleben unten geblieben. Sie ist der Troll, der sein Schicksal macht. Sie ist der Raubvogel, der die Beute nimmt, die ihn reizt. Dieses \u00bbTeufelsm\u00e4del\u00ab ist die Verk\u00f6rperung all der kleinen helfenden und dienenden \u00bbTeufel\u00ab, die ihn zum Unm\u00f6glichen locken und rufen. F\u00fcr sie ist das Unm\u00f6gliche da, als er den Kranz an die Turmspitze h\u00e4ngt. Sie sieht nur sein Emporsteigen und Obenstehen; ihre mitschaffende Phantasie h\u00f6rt nur, wie Gesang in den L\u00fcften, seine Zwiesprache mit dem Weltbaumeister. Seinen Absturz sieht ihr Auge nicht; das Entsetzen der anderen, der Puppenmenschen, teilt sie nicht. Ihr Baumeister hat mit dem Herrn der Welt gesprochen. Durch ihre eigene Willenskraft, vor ihren eigenen \u00bbgespannten\u00ab Augen geno\u00df sie jetzt seinen h\u00f6chsten Augenblick. Dann mag er gern zugrunde gehen! Sie verl\u00e4\u00dft den Schauplatz, wie das Publikum der Stierk\u00e4mpfe die Arena. So etwas hatte Hedda Gabler zu erleben gew\u00fcnscht, aber sie war nicht geartet, Gesang in den L\u00fcften zu h\u00f6ren. Ihr Machtverlangen ging den kleinen Zwecken der Eitelkeit, nicht den gro\u00dfen Zielen der Herrschaft nach. Sie wollte eine Zerst\u00f6rerin sein, w\u00e4hrend Solne\u00df immer wieder an seinen Beruf zum Auferbauen glaubt. Egoisten sind sie beide, aber w\u00e4hrend f\u00fcr Hedda Empfindungen anderer nicht existieren, lebt in Solne\u00df immer wieder die Idee auf, kraft eigener Kraft f\u00fcr andere zu wirken. W\u00e4hrend Hedda Gabler gegen Tante Julies schlichte Seelenhoheit blind ist, traut Baumeister Solne\u00df sogar seiner hilflosen Aline die urspr\u00fcngliche F\u00e4higkeit zum Bauen zu. Wie sein Ehrgeiz es war, anstelle der Kirchen f\u00fcr einen M\u00e4chtigeren, Heimst\u00e4tten f\u00fcr das Gl\u00fcck der Dutzendmenschen zu bauen, so glaubte er, seine totlebendige Frau h\u00e4tte die Kraft gehabt, kleine Kinderseelen aufzubauen, so da\u00df sie sich in Gleichgewicht und in edlen sch\u00f6nen Formen erheben k\u00f6nnten zu geraden, aufrechten Menschenseelen. Das Erziehungsideal des Pastors Rosmer war diesem Baumeister nicht fremd.\n\nMan hat das Baumeisterst\u00fcck Ibsens Beichte genannt. Mit demselben Rechte, womit alle Werke dieses urpers\u00f6nlichen Dichters mehr oder minder als Bekenntnisse seiner Seele zu gelten haben. Im \u00bbBaumeister Solne\u00df\u00ab gibt es besonders vieles, von dem man mit Frau Aline sagen k\u00f6nnte: \u00bbDahinter steckt etwas\u00ab. Auf die Gefahr hin, da\u00df der \u00bbhinterlistige\u00ab Kunstwerker Henrik Ibsen mit seinem Baumeister protestieren k\u00f6nnte: \u00bbWitterst Du etwa nicht gleich einen t\u00fcckischen, versteckten Sinn in dem unschuldigsten Wort, das ich sage?\u00ab \u2013 wird der autobiographische Zusammenhang zwischen Dichter und Werken immer deutlicher hervortreten, werden sich die \u00bbHintergedanken\u00ab immer mehr enth\u00fcllen. Als willkommene Jugend klopft Hilde Wangel an die T\u00fcr des Baumeisters und kommt unter einer neuen Fahne, um mit ihm \u00fcber Altes und Neues zu reden. So ist Henrik Ibsen einst als junger Werber vor die Menschheit getreten. Wie Hilde den Baumeister, hat er die Welt gefragt: \u00bbKannst Du mich zu etwas brauchen?\u00ab Als er, wie Gesang in den L\u00fcften, des Baumeisters Antwort auch von der Welt zu h\u00f6ren vermeinte: \u00bbDu bist das Wesen, das ich am empfindlichsten vermi\u00dft habe\u00ab, hat er mit Hilde aufgejubelt: \u00bbAch du gro\u00dfe, herrliche Welt!\u00ab Schon w\u00e4hnte er seinen Wunsch erf\u00fcllt, schon sah er das dritte Reich seines Traums \u00bbbeinahe\u00ab auf dem Tische liegen, da fiel ihm noch rechtzeitig ein, da\u00df es nur ein dummes K\u00f6nigreich Apfelsinia ist, nur ein Luftschlo\u00df ohne Grundmauer, in dessen N\u00e4he er geraten war, eine Phantasiewelt, keine Wirklichkeit, da\u00df der Baumeister Solne\u00df anders aussieht, als Hildes wilde Sehnsucht ihn sich getr\u00e4umt hat. Wie Hilde zu Solne\u00df kommt, um etwas zu fordern und etwas zu bieten, so steht vor der modernen Welt Ibsens ideale Forderung und das Gastgeschenk seines Seelenspiegels. Denn auch Hilde hat ihrem Baumeister \u00fcber die Innenseiten der menschlichen Natur ebenso die Augen ge\u00f6ffnet, wie ihr Baumeister seiner Hilde. Es war ein gegenseitiges Geben und Empfangen. Was Ibsen der Welt gab, hat er von der Welt empfangen.\n\n_Klein Eyolf_ , das Drama, das im Dezember 1894 folgte, kn\u00fcpft an das Akklimatisationsmotiv der \u00bbFrau vom Meere\u00ab an; von Hedda Gablers Blut lebt ein Tropfen in Rita Allmers, der energielosen Heldin, die ihre starken sinnlichen Kr\u00e4fte, ihre gro\u00dfen W\u00fcnsche in einem kleinen Leben verpufft; auch zu den leeren Kinderstuben von Halvard und Aline Solne\u00df findet sich ein Weg. So entschieden Ibsen seine letzte an seine vorhergegangene Dichtung kn\u00fcpfte, \u2013 ein neuer elegischer Grundton klingt durch \u00bbKlein Eyolf.\u00ab Der Dichter, weiter aufgestiegen zu den H\u00f6hen des Daseins und fast den Sternen und der gro\u00dfen Stille n\u00e4her als der Erde, beginnt die Dinge unter sich im gro\u00dfen Sinne der Vers\u00f6hnung zu erblicken. Die Frau vom Meere, von den Fahrten ins Land der Sehnsucht schiffbr\u00fcchig zur\u00fcckgekehrt, harrt dumpf aus beim Gatten in beengten Verh\u00e4ltnissen; Hedda Gabler und Baumeister Solne\u00df \u00fcberleben ihre zerst\u00f6rten Hoffnungen und Vors\u00e4tze nicht; Rita und Alfred Allmers aber finden den Mut, ihr klaffendes Ehedasein weiter zu leben, weil es durch das Gesetz menschlicher Wandlung eine ethische Vertiefung erh\u00e4lt, weil sie nach schlimmem Werkeltag, wenn auch nicht auf ein Sonntagsgl\u00fcck, so doch auf einen milden Sonntagsfrieden wenigstens die Aussicht haben. Dieser Ausbau einer Ethik, die ebensowohl auf h\u00f6chst menschlichen Eigenschaften und Erfahrungen wie auf einem seelischen Bed\u00fcrfnis beruht, ist das Neue in diesem Drama.\n\nAlfred und Rita gelangen durch das \u00bbGesetz der Wandlung\u00ab zu ihrer neuen Weltbetrachtung und Lebensf\u00fchrung. Dieses Gesetz ist kein konstruierter Begriff, sondern ein sehr menschliches und weltl\u00e4ufiges Gesetz. Sie sp\u00fcren es am Leibe; menschliche Anfechtungen schaffen die S\u00fcnde, die S\u00fcnde schafft harte Konflikte und Schicksale \u2013 auf einem Wege, der ebensogut zu einem Ende mit Schrecken wie zur Resignation f\u00fchren kann. Im Drama erscheint ein naiver Kraftmensch, der dieses Gesetz, als er davon vernimmt, ein \u00bbdummes\u00ab Gesetz schilt. Er tat gut, nicht daran zu glauben: ihm ist Kraft und Trachten eins, wie ein sonniger Arbeitstag liegt das Leben vor, liegt es hinter ihm. Was er will, das kann er, was er kann, das darf er: das nannten die alten Weisen das Gl\u00fcck. Aber das Gl\u00fcck in diesem Sinne fanden weder Allmers noch Rita noch auch Asta. Die L\u00fcge kam in ihr Leben. Rita glaubt, eine Ehe eingegangen zu sein, und es war eine unlautere Vernunftheirat, und Asta, die von der Schwesterliebe ihr Dasein erf\u00fcllt meint, mu\u00df sehen, wie durch die S\u00fcnde der Mutter ganz andere Empfindungen in ihr Verh\u00e4ltnis zu Alfred dringen; der Mann aber, der zwischen zwei Frauen steht, hat alle die ersch\u00fctternden Folgen durchzuk\u00e4mpfen und durchzukosten, die der erste unredliche Schritt mit sich f\u00fchrt. Er lernt den wahren Weggenossen erst in dem Augenblicke kennen, da ihn das Schicksal an H\u00e4nden und F\u00fc\u00dfen gebunden hat. Und dieser ersehnte Weggenosse entschwindet ihm, wie ihm sein literarischer Beruf entschwunden, wie ihm sein Kind entschwunden ist, in dem sich ihm eine praktische Lebenspflicht verk\u00f6rperte, als er an der geistigen Kulturarbeit verzweifelt hatte. Was er das Gesetz der Wandlung nennt, das ist die vorschreitende L\u00e4uterung vom Schuldgef\u00fchl, der st\u00fcckweis abgetragene Tribut an die Vergeltung: er hat ein nur Liebe begehrendes Weib nicht geliebt, da er sie zur Frau nahm, blo\u00df ihre goldenen Berge; er hat das Kind nicht geliebt, das sie ihm geboren, ob des h\u00e4\u00dflichen K\u00f6rperschadens, den es durch seine Mitschuld genommen hat. In dem Augenblick, da er durch eine freie Tat das Unrecht s\u00fchnen will, wird ihm die M\u00f6glichkeit der S\u00fchne entzogen.\n\nAber der Tod des Kindes enth\u00fcllt noch eine andere Schuldige: Rita ha\u00dfte das Kind, wie sie fr\u00fcher des Mannes literarische Arbeit geha\u00dft hatte, weil beide einen Schatten auf ihre Liebesleidenschaft warfen. Ihre Schuld ist ein Gedankenmord. Und das Schicksal wird ein prompter Vollstrecker ihrer geheimen W\u00fcnsche, wie es die uneingestandenen Absichten des Baumeisters Solne\u00df vollzog. Hier entgleitet die Frau dem Mann, in \u00bbKlein Eyolf\u00ab der Mann seiner Frau. Aber diese Frau verfolgen die offenen Augen des verendenden Knaben, in dessen Todesart die Eltern nicht die Hand Gottes, an den sie nicht mehr glauben, vielmehr das geheimnisvolle Walten einer dunklen Naturmacht erblicken m\u00fcssen, die ihn ins Wasser gelockt haben mag. \u00bbHalb zog es ihn, halb sank er hin.\u00ab Meerweiber steigen nicht mehr, wie in Goethes Ballade, aus der Flut hervor. Aber diese Meerweiber waren nur Ausgeburten der Phantasie, Sinnbilder, darin sich Naturgewalten darstellen. Solche Sinnbilder in der Wirklichkeit zu finden, f\u00e4llt besonders einer aufgeregten Kindesphantasie nicht schwer. Wir alle haben als Kinder irgend ein unheimliches altes Weib gekannt. Begegneten wir Kinder solch einem Weibe, so h\u00e4tte uns der Schrecken am liebsten davongejagt; und doch blieben wir wie gebannt stehen, gebannt vielleicht durch einen b\u00f6sen Blick. Trat dann gar das alte Weib mit freundlich grinsenden Geb\u00e4rden auf uns zu, so war es vollends um uns geschehen. Wir starrten sie an unter Tr\u00e4nen und Geschrei. Ibsen konnte und durfte sich denken, auch an den kleinen Eyolf Allmers sei ein solches ganz besonders unheimliches altes Weib eines Morgens herangetreten. Ibsen selbst hat als Kind ein solches Weib in seiner Vaterstadt Skien einst gesehen und wohl auch gef\u00fcrchtet. Es war die sogenannte Rattenmamsell, die mit ihrem kleinen Mops durchs Land strich und, wie einst der Rattenf\u00e4nger von Hameln, durch die Macht der Musik Ratten ins Wasser lockte. Diese Rattenmamsell hat Ibsen verewigt.\n\nZu den Herzen Allmers' und Ritas aber gibt es fortan keine Wege mehr. Der Mann schlie\u00dft ein entsagendes Kompromi\u00df mit dem Leben, indessen aus allen menschlichen Wirrungen die Frau noch so viel Seelenkraft rettet, um Wollen und Erreichen sittlich in Einklang zu bringen. Sie nennt das ihre Umwandlung: Und es war \u00bbwie eine zweite Geburt\u00ab. Entband damals menschliche Leidenschaft sie von einem Schmerzenssohne, so entbindet jetzt die Liebe sie von einer weiten Empfindung f\u00fcr die Menschen.\n\nDas H\u00f6chste, was der Geist erfuhr,  \nLehrt ihn Verzicht, wir k\u00f6nnen nur  \nDas Unverg\u00e4ngliche verehren  \nUnd nach Verg\u00e4nglichem begehren.\n\nSo spricht in deutschem Liede ein Priester, der sich in wilder Weltfahrt das Recht der Resignation erkauft hatte. Heute geht man nicht mehr in ein Kloster \u2013 man weiht sich selbstlosen Humanit\u00e4tszielen.\n\nKlein Eyolf, die Kindestrag\u00f6die, war ein St\u00fcck, das im Sommer spielt. \u00bb _John Gabriel Borkman_ \u00ab, die Greisestrag\u00f6die, Ende 1896 herausgekommen, ist ein Winterst\u00fcck.\n\nDrau\u00dfen im Wald und auf den Bergen liegt Schnee. Die Fl\u00fcsse starren von Eis. Durch die Nachtluft flockt es. Das Wohnhaus ist geheizt. Aber in den Seelen der Menschen friert es vom Frost verj\u00e4hrter Fieber. Es ist ein Winterst\u00fcck, das nur ein alter, bald siebzigj\u00e4hriger Mann dichten konnte, einer, der wei\u00df, wie es in gealterten Seelen zugeht, wenn erloschene Flammen wieder glimmen m\u00f6chten, wenn alte Augen auf ein vergangenes, verlorenes Leben zur\u00fccksehen, wenn letzte W\u00fcnsche, letzter Glaube entschwinden, wenn \u00fcber letzten Verlusten alter Hader einen Frieden ohne Trost sucht.\n\nDa Ibsen auch hier lebenslange Menschenschicksale entwickelt, da er auch hier an zerw\u00fchlte und zerkl\u00fcftete Menschenseelen das feinste H\u00f6rrohr legt, so k\u00f6nnen auch hier in den engen Grenzen r\u00e4umlicher und zeitlicher Einheit aus Vergangenem nur die letzten Schl\u00fcsse gefolgert werden. Der Abend, da das St\u00fcck beginnt, geht der Todesnacht Borkmans voran. An diesem selben Abend weist der vereinsamte Mann seinen letzten Freund von sich ab. An diesem selben Abend sieht er nach unendlich langer Zeit die Geliebte seiner Jugend zum ersten Male wieder. An diesem selben Abend verl\u00e4\u00dft er seit acht Jahren zum ersten Male seinen Saal im oberen Stockwerk, um zum ersten Male seit acht Jahren das Wohnzimmer seiner Frau im Erdgescho\u00df zu betreten und ihr zu begegnen. An diesem selben Abend verl\u00e4\u00dft ihn und seine Frau ihr einziger Sohn, um bei Nacht und Nebel mit zwei Weibsleuten davonzugehen. Diese Verdichtung entscheidender Ereignisse wird dadurch noch dichter, da\u00df sich an ihnen und durch sie zugleich alles das aufrollt, was seit Jahrzehnten geschehen mu\u00dfte, um endlich die kritische Winternacht herbeizuf\u00fchren. In der gro\u00dfartigen Schlu\u00dfszene steht der alte John Gabriel an seinem endlichen Ziel. Von einem Gebirgsvorsprung aus blickt er beim Schneelicht hinab ins Weite. Die alte Geliebte ist bei ihm. Je weniger er von der wirklichen Gegend sehen kann, desto mehr sieht seine Einbildung. Er sieht gro\u00dfe Dampfschiffe: \u00bbSie kommen und gehen, sie verbr\u00fcdern das Leben auf dem ganzen Erdball\u00ab. Er sieht Fabriken in T\u00e4tigkeit: \u00bbTag und Nacht arbeiten sie. Die R\u00e4der wirbeln und die Walzen blitzen \u2013 immer herum, immer herum!\u00ab Er sieht \u00bbsein Reich\u00ab, sein \u00bbtiefes, unermessenes, unersch\u00f6pfliches Reich\u00ab. Dieses Reich sich zu erobern, wo Dampfschiffe und Fabriken nur die Vorposten sind, war Aufgabe seines Lebens gewesen. Bis zur H\u00e4lfte des Weges war er dem Ziel entgegengestiegen, dann verstieg er sich und st\u00fcrzte.\n\nAuch John Gabriel hat etwas von der Wildente an sich. Er selbst nennt sich einen zu Schanden geschossenen Auerhahn. Auch er hat, wie der alte Leutnant Ekdal, im Zuchthause gesessen. Aber nicht wie dieser, um das Verbrechen eines anderen zu b\u00fc\u00dfen, sondern wegen eigener Taten. Er war Manns genug dazu. Er ist mehr als eine Auerhahnnatur. Wenn seine Frau ihn tagaus tagein von fr\u00fch bis sp\u00e4t im gro\u00dfen Saal, der \u00fcber ihrer Wohnstube liegt, auf und ab gehen h\u00f6rt, so kommt es ihr manchmal vor, als h\u00e4tte sie dort oben im K\u00e4fig einen kranken Wolf, der da rumort und heult und immerfort die Freiheit sucht. Borkmans Frau h\u00e4lt ihren kranken Wolf, den sie nie wiedersehen will, f\u00fcr nichts anderes als einen Verbrecher, der an ihrem eigenen Ungl\u00fcck die Schuld tr\u00e4gt. John Gabriel selbst aber denkt \u00fcber sich wesentlich anders. Er h\u00e4lt sich f\u00fcr einen Helden. Wenn der alte Ekdal seine Leutnantsuniform, das ihm abgesprochene Ehrenkleid, nur heimlich anzieht und heftig erschrickt, sobald ihn ein Fremder im armen Mummenschanz \u00fcberrascht, so schreitet John Gabriel durch seinen Saal im Selbstgef\u00fchl, ein Napoleon zu sein, der in seiner ersten Feldschlacht zum Kr\u00fcppel geschossen wurde. Er denkt dabei nicht an Napoleon den Verbrecher (wer d\u00e4chte noch an den), sondern er denkt an Napoleon den Helden. Er wirft sich in eine majest\u00e4tische Haltung, so oft er die T\u00fcr gehen h\u00f6rt, und erwartet die Abgeordneten desjenigen Weltteils, der seiner endlich bedarf.\n\nEs ist der Gr\u00f6\u00dfenwahn des kranken Wolfes. Er erinnert sich genau daran, da\u00df er vor anderthalb Jahrzehnten, er, der Bankdirektor, eines Nachts mit der Laterne unten im Bankgew\u00f6lbe stand und die anvertrauten Gelder und Wertpapiere an sich nahm, um mit \u00bbmutiger\u00ab Hand von ihnen Gebrauch zu machen. Er sah darin nichts Niedriges; denn er, der sich f\u00fcr einen \u00bbAuserw\u00e4hlten\u00ab, f\u00fcr einen hoch \u00fcber der kompakten Menge Stehenden hielt, glaubte \u00bbmit unersch\u00fctterlicher Gewi\u00dfheit\u00ab an seinen Sieg. Mit den gestohlenen Depositen das gro\u00dfe Ziel erreicht, und alle Wertpapiere h\u00e4tten wieder an ihrem Platze gelegen, wie je zuvor. Kein einziger Mensch h\u00e4tte einen Pfennig zu verlieren brauchen. Viele h\u00e4tten mit ihm gewonnen.\n\nDas war seine Meinung. Weit \u00fcber Strafgesetzbuch und b\u00fcrgerliche Moral hinaus hebt diesen \u00dcbermenschen der Einbildung sein Selbstbewu\u00dftsein. Neue Minen ins Unendliche, Wasserf\u00e4lle, Steinbr\u00fcche, Handelsstra\u00dfen und Schiffahrtverbindungen \u00fcber die ganze Welt, \u2013 alles wollte er allein ins Leben rufen. F\u00fcr John Gabriel lag in diesem Streben zun\u00e4chst eine Befriedigung seiner pers\u00f6nlichen Eitelkeit. Aber sein Ehrgeiz, seine Eitelkeit stellten sich in den Dienst der Allgemeinheit. Seine Unternehmungen sollten dazu dienen, Wohlstand zu schaffen f\u00fcr viele tausend andere. Wenigstens erscheinen ihm seine Motive sp\u00e4ter in so altruistischem Licht. Als ihm seine Frau hart vorh\u00e4lt, er habe niemals etwas anderes geliebt als sich selbst, antwortet er mit stolzer \u00dcberzeugung: \u00bbIch habe die Macht geliebt \u2013 die Macht, Menschengl\u00fcck zu schaffen weit, weit um mich her\u00ab. Auch hier l\u00e4\u00dft der Egoismus einen Blick auf seine Kehrseite, den Altruismus, fallen. Freilich, es ist nur ein Blick. Denn nichts, was von John Gabriel Borkman kam, brachte Segen. Alles schlug zum Unheil aus. Der angebliche Volksbegl\u00fccker ruinierte, wie nur irgend ein erster bester Depositenr\u00e4uber, ungez\u00e4hlte Existenzen. In seinem Jugendfreunde, dem Kanzleischreiber Wilhelm Foldal, sehen wir eine solche armselige Existenz, r\u00fchrend ins Schicksal ergeben, vor uns. Man mu\u00df fragen: woran lag es, da\u00df John Gabriel, der doch schon Bankdirektor war und Minister h\u00e4tte werden k\u00f6nnen, nicht wenigstens einen Teil seiner Pl\u00e4ne durchf\u00fchren konnte, woran lag es, da\u00df er scheiterte und f\u00fcnf Jahre im Zuchthaus sitzen mu\u00dfte? Ein gew\u00f6hnlicher Schwindler, ein bewu\u00dfter Bankrottierer war er gewi\u00df nicht. War er wirklich der Phantast, der nur in ein Traumland sah? Er, der Bergmannssohn, der schon als Kind mit in die Minen hinabfuhr und dort unter den Hammerschl\u00e4gen des Vaters das Erz klingen h\u00f6rte, der dem Klange dieses Erzes ein Gef\u00fchl gab, das Gef\u00fchl der Freude, hoch oben im Tageslicht den Menschen dienen zu d\u00fcrfen \u2013 er war gewi\u00df von einem \u00fcppigen Phantasieleben erf\u00fcllt. Und wenn noch der Alte sechzehn Jahre nach dem Sturz zu seinem Freunde Foldal, der ein Trauerspiel geschrieben hat, sagt: \u00bbDu bist kein Dichter!\u00ab so meint er damit eigentlich: Aber ich bin ein Dichter! Ich kenne eine h\u00f6here Gerechtigkeit, als die im Gesetzbuch steht. Und vor einer solchen Gerechtigkeit sprech' ich mich frei. In den langen, einsamen Jahren hat sich dieses Phantasieleben bis zur Krankhaftigkeit verstiegen, und oft genug steigert sich dann der Gr\u00f6\u00dfenwahn dieses vermeintlichen \u00bbAusnahmemenschen\u00ab auch zum leicht ber\u00fchrten Extrem, zum Verfolgungswahn. Aber wenn der alte John Gabriel unter der Wucht seiner Schicksalsschl\u00e4ge schon Gespenster sieht, wenn ihm nur noch selten Momente klarer Einsicht kommen, da er zu Foldal sagt: \u00bbWir haben am Ende uns selber betrogen\u00ab; oder, da er zur alten Geliebten sagt: \u00bbSo sind die Menschen. Sie zweifeln und sie glauben zu gleicher Zeit\u00ab; wenn der alte John Gabriel schon leere Hirngespinste webt, so spricht doch nichts dagegen, da\u00df die \u00fcppige Phantasie des jungen gesund und fruchtbar gewesen ist, da\u00df in ihm nicht nur der Wille, sondern auch die Kraft lag, Segen f\u00fcr sich und andere zu stiften. Warum versagte dem Bergmannssohn, der in die Tiefen dringen wollte, die Kraft ebenso sehr wie dem Baumeister Solne\u00df, der in die H\u00f6hen steigen wollte? Der Dichter l\u00e4\u00dft uns nicht dar\u00fcber in Zweifel. Dem Egoismus hielt der Opfermut nicht die Wage. Der Wille zur Macht war stark genug, aber nicht stark genug war der Wille zur Macht, Menschengl\u00fcck zu schaffen. Das war es, weshalb er zu gleicher Zeit an sich glaubte und zweifelte. In diesen Zweifeln verlor er die Sicherheit; in diesen Zweifeln hat er Hilfe verschm\u00e4ht, wo Segen lag, und Hilfe gesucht, wo Fluch lag. Die treue Lebenskameradin, die ihm uneigenn\u00fctzige Liebe entgegenbrachte, stie\u00df er von sich und st\u00fctzte sich daf\u00fcr auf den Beistand eines Menschen, der f\u00fcr diesen Beistand Gegendienste forderte.\n\nJohn Gabriel glaubte seine Pl\u00e4ne nur durchf\u00fchren zu k\u00f6nnen, wenn er Direktor einer gro\u00dfen Bank wurde. Dazu konnte ihm nur Advokat Hinkel verhelfen. Advokat Hinkel aber war selbst in Johns Jugendgeliebte verliebt und forderte von John zum Dank, da\u00df er sie ihm abtrete. John z\u00f6gerte nicht, es zu tun. Als er Bankdirektor wurde, nahm er nicht Ella Rentheim, sondern deren Zwillingsschwester Gunhild zur Frau. Ella Rentheim aber, von John verschm\u00e4ht, wies ihrerseits den aufgedrungenen Freier ab. Dieser argw\u00f6hnte hierbei Johns Hand im Spiel, und als John Gabriel die Grenzen des Strafrechtes \u00fcberschritten hatte, als er sich vertrauensvoll an den Advokaten wandte, r\u00e4chte sich dieser falsche Freund durch eine Denunziation. Darauf Haft, Konkurs, Urteil.\n\nKurz vor seinem Ende nennt John Gabriel diese ganze verzwickte Angelegenheit recht verwerflich \u00bbso eine Art Weibergeschichte\u00ab. Aber noch k\u00fcrzer vor seinem Ende kommt er auch zu _dieser_ Erkenntnis: \u00bbDas eben ist der Fluch, da\u00df ich bei keiner Menschenseele je Verst\u00e4ndnis gefunden habe. Vielleicht bei _einer_ ausgenommen. Vor langer, langer Zeit. In den Tagen, da ich keines Verst\u00e4ndnisses zu bed\u00fcrfen glaubte\u00ab. Vor wie nach der Zuchthauszeit steht dieser Mann allein \u2013 verlassen von guten Geistern. Mit Recht darf er von sich sagen: \u00bbIch habe keinen gehabt, der voll Wachsamkeit und immer in Bereitschaft gewesen w\u00e4re, mich zu rufen \u2013 mir zu l\u00e4uten wie eine Morgenglocke, \u2013 mich wieder aufzumuntern zu fr\u00f6hlicher Arbeit \u2013. Und dann mir beizubringen, da\u00df ich nichts ver\u00fcbt h\u00e4tte, was nicht wieder gut zu machen w\u00e4re\u00ab. Seine harte Frau wies ihn ab, sein Knabe ward ihm entzogen, die Freundin der Jugend ist fern. Er h\u00e4lt sich an den armen alten Foldal, und m\u00fchsam halten die beiden Gescheiterten ineinander das aufrecht, was in der \u00bbWildente\u00ab jener Zyniker und Ironiker das stimulierende Prinzip nennt, die Lebensl\u00fcge. John Gabriel hilft seinem Wilhelm an dessen \u00bbkleine Dichterwelt\u00ab glauben, und Foldal hilft seinem John Gabriel dran glauben, da\u00df einst f\u00fcr ihn die Stunde der Genugtuung schlagen werde. Deshalb geht John Gabriel immer im schwarzen Anzug und mit wei\u00dfer Binde durch seinen Saal, deshalb steht er, sobald es klopft, in aufrechter W\u00fcrde an seinem Schreibtisch, um vornehm die zu empfangen, die ohne ihn drau\u00dfen nicht l\u00e4nger bestehen k\u00f6nnen. Er will, so oft auch die Zweifel kommen m\u00f6gen, den Glauben an sich selbst nicht verlieren und kann seinen Foldal nur so lange brauchen, als dieser Gute ihn im Glauben an sich selbst best\u00e4rkt. Aber die Zeit vergeht, die Jahre vergehen, das Leben \u2013 und sie kommen nicht, auf die er wartet. Statt ihrer kommt endlich eine andere. Sie bietet ihm keine Rehabilitation, keine Bankdirektion, aber sie will seiner Seele den Frieden geben.\n\nEs kommt zu ihm sein guter Geist. Als der junge John Borkman, der Bergmannssohn, in die Tiefen starrte und gr\u00fcbelte, wie er dort unten die \u00bbgefesselten Millionen\u00ab befreien k\u00f6nnte, stand neben ihm ein in Liebe l\u00e4chelndes Weib: Ella Rentheim. Sie w\u00e4re die Frau gewesen, ihm freudig seine Erfolge, aber auch seine Schande, seine Vernichtung tragen zu helfen. John Gabriel Borkman hatte den guten Geist der Frau, die innerlich zu ihm geh\u00f6rte, in blinder Verirrung von sich gesto\u00dfen. Und an seinem letzten Lebenstage steht nun dieses Fr\u00e4ulein Ella Rentheim mit dem Vorwurf gegen ihn auf, da\u00df er das schwerste seiner Verbrechen begangen habe: er hat sein eigenes Liebesleben und das der Geliebten gemordet. Darum mu\u00dfte er, wie seine unerbittliche Frau es ausdr\u00fcckt, bei lebendigem Leibe ein toter Mann werden, darum mu\u00dfte er ein Grabesdasein f\u00fchren. Seine harte Frau denkt dabei freilich an die \u00f6ffentliche Schande des Zuchth\u00e4uslers. Ella Rentheims Zorn denkt daran nicht. Was John Gabriel gegen die Paragraphen des Gesetzbuches verbrochen hat, ist ihr so nichtig, wie der kleinen Nora ihr eigener frommer Betrug w\u00e4re. Alle diese irdischen Verschuldungen werden von jenen S\u00fcndern begangen, denen das Himmelreich dennoch offen steht, \u00fcber deren Bu\u00dffertigkeit sogar Freude im Himmel herrscht. Aber eine gro\u00dfe, unverzeihliche S\u00fcnde, jene geheimni\u00dfvolle S\u00fcnde, f\u00fcr die die Bibel keine Vergebung kennt, ist f\u00fcr Ella Rentheim das, was der Geliebte ihr und damit sich selbst angetan hat. Sie nennt es: \u00bbdas Liebesleben morden in einem Menschen\u00ab! Andere Ibsensche Menschen nennen es anders. \u00dcberall aber handelt es sich um dieselbe ideale Forderung, die Ibsen erf\u00fcllt sehen will.\n\nMit solch idealer Forderung tritt Ella Rentheim in die Reihe jener Ibsenschen Gestalten, die in sich selbst jenes ethische Weltgesetz f\u00fchlen, das der kategorische Imperativ des opferfreudigen Egoismus diktiert. Ella Rentheim hat ein Recht zu dieser Forderung. Sie l\u00e4\u00dft nur ihre eigene Herzensangelegenheit gelten, aber ihr Herz ist bereit zu jedem Opfer f\u00fcr die, die sie liebt. Sie ist es, die der auch in ihrer Liebe verarmten Schwester und dem treulosen Geliebten die Not der Bettelarmut wehrt. Sie ist es, die das Kind dieser beiden erzogen hat, als ihm das Elternhaus verw\u00fcstet war, die Eltern miteinander zerfielen. Sie ist es, die nun nach Jahren, am Rande des Grabes, kommt, um ihren Liebling, den Sohn des Jugendfreundes, wieder zu sich zu rufen, damit sie ihn allein habe f\u00fcr den kargen Rest ihres Lebens. Aber das Kind ist ein J\u00fcngling geworden. Nicht die alte m\u00fctterliche Tante, sondern die verf\u00fchrerische femme de trente ans weist seinen erwachten Sinnen den Weg ins Gl\u00fcck. Und f\u00fcr diesen Weg hat Ella Rentheim Verst\u00e4ndnis; wie sie in letzter Stunde aus eigenstem Erleben das Wort spricht: \u00bbEs ist vielleicht _Entbehrung_ der Liebe, was die Kraft der Liebe aufrecht erh\u00e4lt\u00ab, so konnte sie auch aus eigenstem Erleben das Wort sprechen: \u00bbDie Entbehrung des Gl\u00fcckes ist es vielleicht, die den Wunsch nach Gl\u00fcck steigert\u00ab. Und so beweist sie ihre Liebeskraft auch darin, da\u00df sie ihrem Liebling den Wunsch mit auf den Weg gibt: \u00bbGenie\u00dfe Dein Leben, \u2013 und sei so gl\u00fccklich, so gl\u00fccklich, \u2013 wie Du kannst\u00ab!\n\nFrau Gunhild Borkman, geborene Rentheim, ist das Gegenteil ihrer Zwillingsschwester. Sie wei\u00df nichts von jener geheimnisvollen S\u00fcnde. Sie selbst hat geholfen in Ella das Liebesleben t\u00f6ten, da sie die Hand des Mannes annahm, dessen Herz der Schwester geh\u00f6rte. Sie wei\u00df desto mehr von all den S\u00fcnden wider Strafrecht und b\u00fcrgerliche Ordnung, gegen die ihr Gatte so schm\u00e4hlich versto\u00dfen hat. Sie ha\u00dft ihren einst geliebten Gatten, weil er sie arm gemacht, weil er im Zuchthaus gesessen hat. Das ist es, was sie ihm nie verzeiht. Und in ihrem br\u00fctenden, nagenden Schamgef\u00fchl hat sie sich etwas ausgedacht. Was der Vater am guten Namen s\u00fcndigte, soll der Sohn s\u00fchnen. In ihm lebt ihr der R\u00e4cher. An dem Gedanken w\u00e4rmt sich diese Frau, die im Ungl\u00fcck so hart und kalt geworden ist, da\u00df sie ihrem Kinde nur Pflichten, keine Rechte gibt. Aber der kecke Bursch, im Feuer junger Leidenschaft gest\u00e4hlt, tut das ganze Schuld- und S\u00fchnegeb\u00e4ude, das die Mutter auf seine Kosten emport\u00fcrmen will, mit dem despektierlichen Wort \u00bbRedensarten\u00ab ab, und wenn sie von seiner gro\u00dfen Mission spricht, erkl\u00e4rt dieses Weltkind, kein Talent zum Missionar zu haben. Er pocht allen diesen Gealterten gegen\u00fcber auf seine Jugend und will sein eigenes Leben leben. Wie in \u00bbKlein Eyolf\u00ab der Ingenieur Borgheim, so \u00f6ffnet hier Erhard Borkman ein Gartenpf\u00f6rtchen aus grauen, nebelbrauenden Geistermauern ins gr\u00fcne Leben hinein. Aus verstiegenen Empfindungen und seherhaften Gedanken, die der Menschheit ein h\u00f6heres Dasein suchen, geht es mit diesen sinnenfrohen unbedenklich zugreifenden jungen Kerlen wieder bergab zur Erde. Freilich ein Unterschied ist doch in der Lebensauffassung von Borgheim und dem jungen Borkman: f\u00fcr Borgheim hie\u00df leben arbeiten; in der Arbeit lag sein Gl\u00fcck, f\u00fcr das ihm nur die Teilerin der Freude fehlte; aber inzwischen wird sich wohl seine gesunde Kraft zu jenem spr\u00f6den, erinnerungsschweren M\u00e4dchenherzen den Weg gebaut haben. F\u00fcr Erhard Borkman hei\u00dft leben ganz etwas anderes als arbeiten. Als er mit seinen zwei Weibsbildern, der reifen, bis zur Angefaultheit reifen Kokette und dem bleichs\u00fcchtigen Backfisch, in den sch\u00f6nen silberbeschellten Schlitten steigt, scheint sich uns zwischen die bangenden Blicke seiner beiden verlassenen M\u00fctter das mephistophelische L\u00e4cheln des Dichters zu dr\u00e4ngen, als wollte er sagen: Warte nur, Bursch; auch dein Schlitten wird die Silberschellen schon verlieren!\n\nAber des Dichters schmunzelnde Gunst sitzt doch hinten auf im Schlitten, der, gescheiterte Existenzen umwerfend, aufs Geratewohl ins bl\u00fchende Leben hineinrast, w\u00e4hrend sich dort oben beim Schneelicht \u00fcber einem Toten zwei Frauenschatten die Hand reichen zum trostlosen Frieden. Der Parole, die Ibsens Brand einst ausgegeben hat, \u00bbAlles oder Nichts\u00ab, ist auch John Gabriel in seinem Leben gefolgt. Er wagte sein Alles und zog die falsche Nummer. Sein Los war das Nichts. Sein Leben verarmte, verk\u00fcmmerte, ver\u00f6dete in dumpfer Stubenluft, in Kerkerluft. Er verlernte, den Hauch des frischen Windes, den Hauch der Freiheit zu ertragen. Im Alleinsein verlor er seine St\u00e4rke. Zusammen mit Rebekka vermag Rosmer froh und edel den einzigen Weg zu gehen, auf dem sie nebeneinander bleiben k\u00f6nnen, den Weg in den M\u00fchlenbach. Zusammen mit Klein Eyolfs Mutter vermag Klein Eyolfs Vater ein Helfer der Menschen zu werden. Was Alfred Allmers sp\u00e4t gewann, hat John Gabriel Borkman fr\u00fch verloren. Er verlor mit Ella Rentheim seine Kraft. Jetzt im Alter, im Winter, im Schnee, im Frost ist es zu sp\u00e4t. Jetzt hat sie nur noch ein letztes Liebesamt. Sie hat den kranken Wolf aus seinem K\u00e4fig gelassen und l\u00e4\u00dft ihn nun in der Wildnis des Waldes und in der kalten Freiheit traumfroh verenden: \u00bbBesser so, John Borkman. F\u00fcr Dich ist es besser so\u00ab. Die eisige Erzhand seines Schicksals, dessen halber Schmied der Mensch nur ist, hat ihm die kranke Brust zerdr\u00fcckt. Und nun schmilzt auch von Frau Gunhilds Innerem das Erz; die alte Frau vereinigt sich mit der alten Schwester zur Erinnerung an die gemeinsame Jugendliebe. Denn die Spur eines Liebeslebens war auch in Frau Gunhilds kargem, armem Herzen zur\u00fcckgeblieben. Nun sind die Jahre des Grolls verwischt und \u00bbdas neugeborene Auge wandelt die alte Tat\u00ab.\n\nNach dem Sommer- und dem Winterst\u00fcck, dem Kindes- und dem Greisenst\u00fcck lie\u00df sich der Dichter mehr Zeit als sonst. Das letzte Drama erschien erst zu Weihnachten 1899, knapp vor des Jahrhunderts Schlu\u00df. Der Dichter nennt \u00bb _Wenn wir Toten erwachen_ \u00ab einen \u00bbdramatischen Epilog\u00ab und hat es zugegeben, da\u00df das St\u00fcck diejenige Dramenreihe abschlie\u00dfe, die mit \u00bbPuppenheim\u00ab beginnt.\n\nWenn Ibsen sein Jugendwort: \u00bbHammerschlag auf Hammerschlag bis zum letzten Lebenstag\u00ab hier wiederholt: \u00bb\u2013 Ich mu\u00df ununterbrochen arbeiten \u2013 Werk schaffen auf Werk bis zu meinem letzten Tag\u00ab \u2013 \u2013 so beleuchtet dies den wesentlichen Charakter des St\u00fcckes. Von der Nora bis zum Borkman hin hat Ibsen sich immer entschiedener von einem Ankl\u00e4ger zu einem Vers\u00f6hner entwickelt. \u00bbPax vobiscum\u00ab erklingt's aus dem Munde einer stumm wandelnden, geisterhaften Mahnerin am Ende des letzten Dramas: all den irrenden Menschenseelen, die er geschaffen, all jenen Gestalten, die einem ungewissen Schicksal sich \u00fcberantworteten oder tragisch untergingen, w\u00fcnscht Ibsen den Frieden; den Frieden w\u00fcnscht er der Welt, der er ein z\u00fcchtigender Lehrmeister, ein strafender Freund gewesen ist; den Frieden w\u00fcnscht er sich, dem Dichter, nachdem er sich selbst zur Verantwortung gezogen hat, als sein eigener Ankl\u00e4ger, und sein eigener Richter.\n\nGanz fr\u00fch schon definierte Ibsen: \u00bbDichten\u00ab, das hei\u00dft, \u00bb\u00fcber sich selbst zu Gerichte sitzen\u00ab. Und so tr\u00e4gt diese Trag\u00f6die des Kunstschaffens von allen Werken aus Ibsens moderner Periode den st\u00e4rksten Pers\u00f6nlichkeitszug. Sie enth\u00e4lt Bekenntnisse \u2013 Auseinandersetzungen mit sich selbst, mit seiner Kunst und ihrer jeweiligen Stellung zu Ideal und Wirklichkeit, mit der Welt. Aber dieser Proze\u00df Ibsen wider Ibsen vollzieht sich nicht in philosophischen Erw\u00e4gungen oder in einem programmatischen Frage- und Antwortspiel \u2013 vielmehr als Dichtung, als ein St\u00fcck Menschenleben, aus Irdischem gestaltet und doch \u00fcber die Erde hinaus ins Dauernde weisend. Gro\u00df \u2013 so setzte Ibsen einst in einer Rede auseinander, war das Gebiet der an ihn herantretenden Stoffe. Er hat verdichtet, was h\u00f6her war als sein \u00bbt\u00e4gliches Ich\u00ab \u2013 \u00bbaber,\u00ab so f\u00e4hrt er fort, \u00bbauch das Entgegengesetzte reizte mich zum Dichten, das, was der in sich gekehrten Betrachtung als Schlacken und Bodensatz des eigenen Wesens zu Gesicht kommt. In diesem Falle ist mir das Dichten wie ein Bad erschienen, aus dem ich mich reiner, gesunder und freier hervorgehen f\u00fchlte.\u00ab So sprach Ibsen f\u00fcnf Jahre vor der Entstehung des \u00bbPuppenheims\u00ab, seines ersten gro\u00dfen Gegenwartsdramas, und da er f\u00fcnfundzwanzig Jahre sp\u00e4ter seine dramatische Gesellschaftsdichtung beschlie\u00dft, tut er seine End- und Hauptbeichte.\n\nSein letzter Held darf indessen nicht mit ihm unmittelbar identifiziert werden; sonst w\u00e4re dieser Bildhauer Rubek, der auch an sich erf\u00e4hrt, da\u00df der K\u00fcnstlergedanke, in seiner h\u00f6chsten Reinheit und r\u00fccksichtslos erfa\u00dft, zwar adelt, aber das Gl\u00fcck t\u00f6tet, der, wie er zum wahren Leben erwachen will, findet, da\u00df das Leben f\u00fcr ihn tot ist, nur ein Vehikel fremden R\u00e4sonnements. Doch: so ist er ein Mensch f\u00fcr sich, in dessen zerkl\u00fcftetes Seelenleben der Dichter beharrlich hinableuchtet. Wohl aber darf man diesen Rubek als Henrik Ibsens Freund gr\u00fc\u00dfen, der sein gro\u00dfes Lebenswerk unter Schmerzen und Zweifeln und Verzichten und Selbstanklagen geboren hat. Wie der Baumeister Solne\u00df nur einmal in seinem Leben so hoch steigen konnte, wie er baute, so hat sich auch dieser Bildhauer nur einmal ganz auf der H\u00f6he seines Berufes gef\u00fchlt. Als er das geschaffen, was er sein Lebenswerk nennt: die Verk\u00f6rperung des Auferstehungsgedankens. Aber dieses Werk erhebt sich am Ende gegen ihn als eine gro\u00dfe Anklage. Er brauchte die Seele eines anderen Menschen, jenes Werk zu schaffen, und hat, in k\u00fchlem Egoismus, nichts getan, der Gef\u00e4hrtin, die ihm diente, weil sie ihn liebte, Ersatz zu bieten f\u00fcr die junge hei\u00dfe Seele, die er ihr genommen hatte. Ein wesentliches Motiv wird aus dem \u00bbBorkman\u00ab heraufgeholt. Hier tritt die Frau dem Jugendgeliebten mit der Anklage entgegen, in ihr das Liebesleben get\u00f6tet und zugleich einen Mord an der eigenen Seele begangen zu haben \u2013, die gr\u00f6\u00dfte S\u00fcnde, die die Bibel kennt, die einzige, f\u00fcr die es keine Vergebung gibt. So spricht Irene, die Frau, die sich als die Mutter seines Lebenswerkes f\u00fchlt, zu Rubek von einer \u00bbTods\u00fcnde\u00ab. Diese S\u00fcnde habe sie wider sich selbst begangen, als sie ihm diente und, um ihm dienen zu k\u00f6nnen, das Leben aufgab, das durchzuleben ihr vom Schicksal bestimmt war. In dieser Frau, die sich einer nachdenklichen, gewissenhaft-\u00e4ngstlichen, gr\u00fcblerischen K\u00fcnstlernatur, dem Unmann, unterwarf, lebte ein unbez\u00e4hmbarer Lebensdrang. Sie war zun\u00e4chst gar nicht das \u00bbreine, ideale Weib\u00ab, das er in ihr sah und darstellte, sie geh\u00f6rte durchaus zum Stamme der Hj\u00f6rdis, Rebekka West, Hedda Gabler, Rita Allmers, all der Wikingerweibchen; sie war dazu geschaffen, \u00bbKinder zur Welt zu bringen, viele Kinder, richtige Kinder,\u00ab nicht geistige \u00bbKinder\u00ab, die in Seelenehen geboren und in Museen verwahrt werden. Das \u00bbKind\u00ab Ejlert L\u00f6vborgs, das Buch, das in der geistigen Ehe mit der selbstlosen, naiv sich ihrem menschlichen Rettungswerke hingebenden Freundin entstanden ist und als Symbol dieser Ehe der Zerst\u00f6rungswut Heddas anheimf\u00e4llt, kehrt hier in neuer Bedeutung wieder.\n\n\u00bbH\u00e4tt' ich mein Recht ge\u00fcbt, so h\u00e4tt' ich das \u00bbKind\u00ab get\u00f6tet,\u00ab versichert Irene, als ihr halbgebrochener Geist wieder durch das verj\u00e4hrte Leid der Vergangenheit irrt. Sie sah in jener Zeit der gemeinsamen Arbeit ein, da\u00df Rubek sein Kunstwerk \u00fcber das \u00bbMenschenkind\u00ab stellte; aber sollte sein Werk nicht das \u00e4u\u00dfere Abbild ihrer Sch\u00f6nheit nur, sollte es das Gef\u00e4\u00df ihrer liebenden Seele werden, so mu\u00dfte sie sich unter das Gesetz seiner keuschen und fast bis zur L\u00e4cherlichkeit zaghaften Natur beugen. Wie ihm selbst jede sinnliche Begier als eine Vers\u00fcndigung an seinem Werke erschien, so mu\u00dfte sie ihre urspr\u00fcnglichen Lebenstriebe unterdr\u00fccken. Sie war ganz die \u00bblichte Himmelsfreude\u00ab, die er f\u00fcr seine Marmorgestalt brauchte. Und er, in naiver Selbstsucht, glaubte, indem er sein Menschenkind in die Kunst einf\u00fchrte, ihm die h\u00f6chste Weihe verliehen zu haben. Er hatte daf\u00fcr die Floskel: auf einen hohen Berg f\u00fchren und dort alle Herrlichkeit der Welt zeigen. Und sie erlebte dort wirklich, als dieses kaltherzigen Bildhauers vielgetreue, stolze und entsagende Dienerin, in ihrer Art einen \u00bbSonnenaufgang\u00ab. Dann eines Tages merkte sie, da\u00df sie in dem menschlichen und k\u00fcnstlerischen Dasein ihres Rubek nichts anderes als eine \u00bbEpisode\u00ab gewesen war, wobei ihr bestes Selbst zugrunde ging. Sie l\u00e4\u00dft den selbstischen Tr\u00e4umer; sie nimmt ihm sein Sch\u00f6nheitsideal, und nicht zum zweiten Male wird ihm ein Meisterwerk gelingen. Das ist ihre Rache. Sie aber steht nach diesem Abschied da \u00bbmit leerer Brust \u2013 seelenlos\u00ab und ist fortan eine Tote bei lebendigem Leibe. Doch einen noch schlimmeren Tod soll sie lebend erleiden. Sie prostituiert sich als Stern der Vari\u00e9t\u00e9s, st\u00fcrzt sich in die Wirbel sinnlichen Genusses, treibt sich mit Mannsbildern herum, jagt den Pechvogel, der sie heiratet, in Tod und Schande und erliegt in einer zweiten Ehe diesem tollen Hexensabbath. Ihr Mann schickt sie ins Irrenhaus und die Halbgeheilte dann in Begleitung einer Diakonissin von Sanatorium zu Sanatorium. Und doch soll es \u00fcber den gebrochenen Kr\u00e4ften dieser Zerr\u00fctteten noch einmal tagen; sie, die Irene hei\u00dft, wird einer zweifelnden und unst\u00e4ten Seele und sich selbst den Frieden bringen.\n\nAuf seine Art hat inzwischen Rubek das Leben kennen gelernt. Mit seinem Idealweibe war ihm der Inhalt _der_ Kunst geschwunden, die nach oben gerichtet ist. Sein Blick wendet sich vom Himmel zur Erde. Er kann in seiner Auferstehungsgruppe die Idealfigur _so_ nicht mehr gebrauchen; er mi\u00dft sie an der Wirklichkeit und weist ihr den Platz an, der ihr der Wirklichkeit gegen\u00fcber geb\u00fchrt \u2013 denn sie ist gedichtet, sie ist nicht gesehen. Sie wird von ihrem dominierenden Platze fortger\u00fcckt; er d\u00e4mpft die Sch\u00f6nheit ihres Antlitzes und den Heiligenschein der Reinheit und modelliert auf dem Sockel, gerade vor die Gestalt hin, \u00bbein St\u00fcck der gew\u00f6lbten berstenden Erde\u00ab. \u00bbUnd aus den Furchen, da wimmelt's nun herauf von Menschen mit heimlichen Tiergesichtern, M\u00e4nnern und Weibern, wie ich sie aus dem Leben kannte.\u00ab Tiere hinter Menschenmasken \u2013 hier reden die diabolischen Humore Henrik Ibsens \u2013 Tiere, die _er_ nur sieht, nicht ein anderer. Von seinen Portr\u00e4tb\u00fcsten sagt Rubek-Ibsen gleiches aus: Sie sind \u00e4u\u00dferlich frappant \u00e4hnliche Menschenbilder, \u00bbaber in ihrem tiefsten Grunde sind es ehrenwerte Pferdefratzen, st\u00f6rrische Eselsschnuten, gem\u00e4stete Schweinsk\u00f6pfe\u00ab \u2013 also \u00bbhinterlistige Kunstwerke\u00ab, solche, die Ironie und Spott bergen, wo sie ernsthaft erscheinen. An die eigene Dichtung hat Ibsen gedacht, als er seinen Freund Rubek so von den Portr\u00e4tb\u00fcsten reden lie\u00df.\n\nDenn Rubek war gemach zu demselben humoristischen Abscheu vor der Welt gelangt wie er selbst. Sein gro\u00dfes Kunstwerk, so wie er es umgeschaffen, gef\u00e4llt ihm nicht mehr. Fr\u00fcher, da er mit ungeteilten Empfindungen schuf, war er des Schaffens froh. Das Werk aber wird ber\u00fchmt, die Leute bewundern es, \u2013 den Meister \u00e4rgern sie durch ihre Bewunderung dessen, \u00bbwas nicht da ist\u00ab, \u00bbwas ihm gar nicht in dem Sinn gelegen hatte\u00ab. Er m\u00f6chte \u2013 und hier spricht er wieder tief aus der Seele Ibsens \u2013 \u00bbam liebsten in die finstersten W\u00e4lder fliehen vor dem Weihrauch und den Kr\u00e4nzen der Menschen, angewidert und verzweifelt.\u00ab Und so r\u00e4cht er sich mit den Portr\u00e4ts, die heimliche Tierfratzen tragen. Und die braven Leute bezahlen ihm diese Portr\u00e4ts mit gutem Gelde; er wird reich, kann Landg\u00fcter erwerben und sich H\u00e4user bauen und st\u00fcnde nun vor der Erf\u00fcllung seines Daseinsideales, das zugleich des Kaisers Julian und des Henrik Ibsen Daseinsideal ist, \u00bbein Leben in Sonnenschein und Sch\u00f6nheit zu f\u00fchren\u00ab. Aber dieses Leben gelingt ihm nicht, so wenig es Kaiser Julian und seinem Dichter Henrik Ibsen gelang, denn in dieser Welt voll K\u00e4mpfen und Zweifeln gibt es ein solches Leben nicht. Rubek fehlt die Kraft des Aufschwungs; er hat, wie andere Helden Ibsens, eins in die Fl\u00fcgel bekommen.\n\nDer Urborn seines Schaffens ist versiegt. Ihm gelingt nichts mehr. Die Zeit nimmt in doppeltem Sinne von ihm Abschied: er wird \u00e4lter, und die Leute beginnen, ihn zu vergessen. Maja, die kleine Sch\u00fctzin, die er, reich wie er war, als Ehefrau sich beigelegt, hat seiner Fl\u00fcgel Kraft unbewu\u00dft den letzten Rest gegeben. Sie ist ein Naturkind, eine aus dem Geschlecht der Hilde Wangel, und hat zu seinem K\u00fcnstlerinnern den Schl\u00fcssel nicht. Auch ihr wollte er vom hohen Berg herab alle Herrlichkeit der Welt zeigen \u2013 diesmal sollte die Herrlichkeit wirklich von dieser Welt sein. Aber das Freiluftkind kommt statt auf Bergesh\u00f6he nur in einen vergoldeten K\u00e4fig. Sie langweilt sich mit ihrem alternden Rubek, der kein Talent zum Leben hat, so wie sie das Leben versteht. Sie findet ihn h\u00e4\u00dflich in seiner Unruhe, Nervosit\u00e4t und inneren Zerrissenheit. Sie merkt, da\u00df er ihrer \u00fcberdr\u00fcssig ist und unbewu\u00dft \u00bbetwas gegen sie im Schilde f\u00fchrt\u00ab. Sie ist bereit, ihn frei zu geben und ihrer Wege zu ziehen.\n\nSo stehen die Dinge, als die Lebensbahn dieser ungleichen Geister gleichartige Elemente kreuzen. Frau Maja findet ihren Wikinger, einen rauhen, derben, kraftstrotzenden Gesellen, einen h\u00e4\u00dflichen, doch magisch lockenden Unhold, der, ein ber\u00fchmter \u00bbB\u00e4rent\u00f6ter\u00ab, ein Gast des Waldes, der Berge und der Winde, am liebsten unter freiem Himmel lebt, der das Leben liebt, weil er sich's an jedem Tage neu erobern mu\u00df. Dieser \u00bbB\u00e4rent\u00f6ter\u00ab ist die wildeste, saftigste Gestalt, die Ibsen geschaffen hat. Es ist das Leben ohne Sch\u00f6nheit, \u2013 aber doch jenes Leben, das die Existenz der Welt verb\u00fcrgt. Dieser B\u00e4rent\u00f6ter gibt Maja, dem gefangenen Vogel, die Freiheit. Er gewinnt sie auf Bergesh\u00f6hen und rettet sein Gut unter Gefahren hinunter ins Tal, wo H\u00e4user stehen und h\u00f6chst irdische Menschen wohnen. Auf derselben H\u00f6he aber stand Rubek und die wiedergefundene Irene; doch sie eilen nicht hinunter, sie streben empor. Sie fanden sich auch innerlich aufs neue; _sie_ , die ein Scheindasein f\u00fchrten, sind von \u00bbihrem Tode erwacht\u00ab. Aber sie sehen, da\u00df das einmal verlorene Lebensgl\u00fcck unwiederbringlich ist. Sie reiben sich den schweren, tr\u00e4umeschwangeren Schlummer aus den Augen und sehen, \u00bbda\u00df sie nie gelebt haben\u00ab. In einer Kette von Anklagen, die sie gegen einander und gegen sich selbst schleudern, erwacht dieses ihr Bewu\u00dftsein. Aber die Grundnote ihrer seelischen Verfassung ist doch die Reue. Irene mu\u00df Rubeks Lebenswerk, so wie es nun einmal geworden ist, f\u00fcr verpfuscht, f\u00fcr entweiht, den Liebesdienst ihrer Jugend f\u00fcr vergeblich halten. Und Rubek sieht mit Entsetzen das Opfer seines K\u00fcnstleregoismus vor sich \u2013 \u00e4u\u00dferlich ein Ideal noch immer, doch innerlich zerst\u00f6rt, krank, leer, erstarrt. So sieht dieses Ideal der Realist und K\u00fcnstler. Seine Absolution aber hat er in Irenes Augen durch sich selbst gefunden. \u00bbNun h\u00f6re, wie ich mich selbst in der Gruppe dargestellt habe. Vorn an einer Quelle sitzt ein schuldbeladener Mann, der von der Erdfl\u00e4che nicht ganz loszukommen vermag. Ich nenne ihn die Reue \u00fcber ein verlorenes Leben. Er taucht seine Finger in das rieselnde Wasser, um sie rein zu sp\u00fclen, und leidet und kr\u00fcmmt sich bei dem Gedanken, da\u00df es ihm nie gelingen wird: In alle Ewigkeit wird er nicht frei werden, leben und auferstehen. Ewiglich bleibt er in seiner H\u00f6lle sitzen.\u00ab So spricht in Rubek der Dichter und K\u00fcnstler Henrik Ibsen, der durch Selbstanatomie und Beichte in sich den K\u00fcnstler und Dichter befreit. Nur Irene vermochte Rubek das kurze \u00bbWiedererwachen zu seinem eigentlichen Leben\u00ab zu bringen, und so folgt der realistische K\u00fcnstler seinem kranken Ideal noch einmal zur H\u00f6he. Wie Kaiser Julian ziehen sie Helios entgegen, ihrem Helios. Dort erleben sie ihr letztes Gl\u00fcck und, im Schneewehen, auch ihren letzten Tag. Von unten ert\u00f6nt, wie am Schlu\u00df des \u00bbBrand\u00ab ein Wort der Vers\u00f6hnung, der Milde. Von unten ert\u00f6nt aber auch der Jubel des freigewordenen Lebensdranges. Zu Frau Maja und ihrem B\u00e4rent\u00f6ter zieht sich die Neigung des verj\u00fcngten Dichters zur\u00fcck.\n\nStirb und werde! Rubek und Irene erwachen im Land ihrer kr\u00e4nklichen Tr\u00e4ume, Frau Maja und der B\u00e4rent\u00f6ter auf der warmen, gew\u00f6lbten Erde, und Henrik Ibsen in der Unsterblichkeit seiner dichterischen Gr\u00f6\u00dfe.\n","meta":{"redpajama_set_name":"RedPajamaBook"}}
+{"text":"\n\nTable of Contents\n\nTitle Page\n\nDedication\n\nPraise\n\nMaps\n\nPrologue\n\nChapter One - For Once in Common Front\n\nChapter Two - A Paradise for Workers and Speculators\n\nChapter Three - We May Not Always Be So Secure\n\nChapter Four - A Liberty-Thirsty People\n\nChapter Five - The Inevitable Uprising\n\nChapter Six - The Flame That Makes the Kettle Boil\n\nChapter Seven - A Brutal and Inventive Vitality\n\nChapter Eight - The International\n\nChapter Nine - The Great Upheaval\n\nChapter Ten - A Storm of Strikes\n\nChapter Eleven - A Night of Terror\n\nChapter Twelve - The Strangest Frenzy\n\nChapter Thirteen - Every Man on the Jury Was an American\n\nChapter Fourteen - You Are Being Weighed in the Balance\n\nChapter Fifteen - The Law Is Vindicated\n\nChapter Sixteen - The Judgment of History\n\nEpilogue\n\nAcknowledgments\n\nNotes\n\nIllustration Credits\n\nAbout the Author\n\nCopyright Page\n_To Janet and Nick_\n**Acclaim for James Green's**\n\n _Death in the Haymarket_\n\n\"No potboiler on the bestseller list can compete with _Death in the Haymarket_ for narrative grip. Rich in character, profound in resonance, shot-through with violence, set in the immigrant neighborhoods, meeting halls, and saloons of the capitol of the American nineteenth century, here is a Chicago of life. Green renews that horror and shame for our time.\"\n\n\u2014Jack Beatty, Senior Editor, _The Atlantic Monthly_\n\n\"Filled with the suspense of a good novel, _Death in the Haymarket_ vividly illuminates the shifting industrial terrain of late-nineteenth-century America. This is a work of art as well as history.\"\n\n\u2014Alice Kessler-Harris, Bancroft Prize\u2013winning author of _In Pursuit of Equity_\n\n\"Green eloquently . . . produces what will surely be the definitive word on the Haymarket affair for this generation.\"\n\n\u2014 _Publishers Weekly_\n\n\"James Green tells a powerful story of Chicago, America and the industrial world of the nineteenth century. His talents as a historian and a writer bring to life social and political struggles that helped make modern American society.\"\n\n\u2014Steven Hahn, Pulitzer Prize\u2013winning author of _A Nation under Our Feet_\n\n\"A stunning portrait of America in the Gilded Age . . . and a bona fide page-turner to boot.\"\n\n\u2014 _The Boston Phoenix_\n\n\"A compelling, even moving, version of the events surrounding Haymarket. He renders the execution\u2014or 'civic murder,' as writer William Dean Howells bitterly called it\u2014of Albert Parsons, journalist August Spies, toy maker George Engel and printer Adolph Fischer in vivid detail.\"\n\n\u2014 _Houston Chronicle_\n\n\"Green's re-creation of this terrible moment exposes the deep divisions that marred America at the dawn of the industrial age. As the nation again struggles with wrenching economic change, we need to hear the story that _Death in the Haymarket_ so passionately tells.\"\n\n\u2014Kevin Boyle, National Book Award\u2013winning author of _Arc of Justice_\n\n\"Fast-paced. . . . Vivid.\"\n\n\u2014 _The New Yorker_\n\n\"There have been poems about Haymarket . . . and novels . . . and chapters in books on the labor violence that is strangely omitted from our high school history textbooks\u2014but nothing until now as meticulous as Green's account, nor as saddening.\"\n\n\u2014 _Harper's Magazine_\n\n\"The Haymarket affair was a pivotal event in United States history. Green explains its significance with a scholar's sure grasp of context and a storyteller's skill at weaving a dramatic narrative.\"\n\n\u2014Michael Kazin, author of _A Godly Hero:_ _The Life of William Jennings Bryan_\n\n\"The bombing and the infamous trial that followed are all vividly depicted in this crisply written, highly readable account. This is exceptional historical reporting and skillfully written with both color and clarity.\"\n\n\u2014 _Tucson Citizen_\n\n\"A good, fast-paced read driven by fascinating characters. . . . Green's exploration of revolutionaries and their world\u2014their newspapers, social clubs, festivals and fraternal organizations\u2014humanizes men and women who, in their lifetimes, were constantly dehumanized by an astonishingly biased press. This book enriches our understanding of a road not taken.\"\n\n\u2014The New York Sun\nMaps\n\nChicago in the early 1880s, showing prominent railroads, industries and other important sites 103\n\nLocations of major strikes in Chicago during the Great Upheaval from April 25 to May 4, 1886 175\n\nChicago's Haymarket Square area on the night of May 4, 1886 187\n_Prologue_\n\nAS THE SUN ROSE over Lake Michigan on May 5 in 1886, Chicagoans beheld one of the brightest mornings in memory. In the early light of day, merchants, managers and brokers boarded horse-drawn streetcars on the South Side and headed north on Michigan Avenue toward the business district. Along the way they encountered a few high-hatted rich men, like the great manufacturer George Mortimer Pullman, being driven uptown in fancy carriages from their mansions on Prairie Avenue. Marring the commuters' eastward view of Lake Michigan's azure blue reaches, black freight trains rolled along the shoreline laden with baled cotton from the Mississippi River delta, cut lumber from the piney woods of Texas and soft coal from the mines of southern Illinois\u2014all crucial ingredients in the city's explosive industrial growth during the 1880s. Indeed, the businessmen who went to work in Chicago's financial district that spring day in 1886 were in the midst of a golden decade of profit, when the net value of goods produced by the city's leading industries multiplied twenty-seven times, ten times faster than the average yearly wage.1\n\nBut that first Wednesday in May when commuters gazed west over the widest industrial landscape in the world, they saw something unusual: a clear sky above the prairie horizon. Gone was the cloud of thick smoke that always hung over the city. The only signals of industrial activity came from the tall chimneys of the huge McCormick Reaper Works two miles away, where strikebreakers, guarded by Chicago police, kept the factory in operation. Scores of other plants and shops remained shut down on this fifth day of a mammoth general strike for the eight-hour day that had begun on May 1.\n\nAs the black-coated businessmen entered the downtown area, they could see knots of pickets around the soot-blackened warehouses that stretched along State Street all the way up to the Dearborn Station. Striking freight handlers had stanched the flow of interstate commerce through Chicago's immense grid of iron rails. In solidarity, switchmen had refused to switch trains in one central railyard, crippling the mighty Chicago, Burlington & Quincy Railroad, the city's largest freight handler. 2 Trains still chugged into the city that day, but when the locomotives reached the depots, they sat idle, stuck on the tracks with unloaded cargoes.\n\nLooking back into the rising sun, the businessmen would have seen hundreds of boats riding at anchor in the outer harbor. The captains of side-wheel steamers had banked their boilers, and sailors on lake schooners had struck their sails under orders from the alarmed vessel owners. A vast quantity of wheat and cut lumber awaited shipment, and there were lucrative tons of iron ore and anthracite coal to be unloaded, but the spring shipping season had been ruined by the storm of strikes that had swept over the city. Vessel owners feared for the safety of their ships if they ventured down the South Branch of the Chicago River to unload in the industrial zone because angry strikers, many of them Bohemian lumber shovers, had taken over the lumberyards and could, at any moment, put a torch to their wooden boats and the acres of dry lumber nearby.3\n\nThe strike wave even reached outside the city, to the enormous railroad car shops in the model town George Pullman had built to escape the turmoil of Chicago. Seemingly unconcerned with labor unrest in the city and in the town he owned, Pullman arrived for work as usual at his palatial company headquarters on Michigan Avenue. Stepping out of a carriage driven by a well-dressed black man who wore his own high hat, the world-renowned industrialist and city builder entered his office building looking as he did every morning, walking purposefully and wearing his usual outfit\u2014a Prince Albert coat, striped trousers and patent-leather shoes.4\n\nYet, beneath his businesslike demeanor, George Pullman suffered from feelings of uncertainty. \"My anxiety is very great,\" he wrote to his wife, \"although it is said that I appear very cool and unconcerned about it.\" The stunning breadth of the eight-hour strike shocked him. He had constructed his company town nine miles from industrial Chicago, where poverty and despair had poisoned relations between manufacturers and their hands and caused frequent strikes, lockouts and riots. In Pullman's model community, carefully selected workmen earned high wages, rented comfortable new houses and lived a healthy life in a clean place. Now the toxic fumes of class antagonism were wafting through the streets of his planned community. \"Some change must occur very soon now,\" he told his wife, \"but I cannot yet predict what it will be.\" 5\n\nLike George Pullman, other businessmen headed for work on May 5 just as they always did and with their usual frantic energy. When they arrived downtown, these men usually stopped to buy the morning edition of the _Chicago Daily Tribune,_ the self-proclaimed businessman's paper. But on this Wednesday, men grabbed the paper eagerly because they had heard rumors about a riot on the West Side the night before in which many policemen were hurt, and no one knew with any certainty what had happened. When they read the morning headline, they were stunned because it carried news of an event far worse than any of them imagined.\n\nA HELLISH DEED\n\nA Dynamite Bomb Thrown into a Crowd of Policemen. It Explodes and Covers the Street with Dead and Mutilated Officers\u2014 A Storm of Bullets Follows\u2014The Police Return Fire and Wound a Number of Rioters\u2014Harrowing Scenes at the Desplaines Street Station\u2014A Night of Terror.\n\nThe editors used all seven columns of the front page to describe the shocking events of May 4 in elaborate detail. A bomb thrown into the midst of six police divisions took an awful toll: at least fifty patrolmen had been wounded; several were near death, and one of them, Mathias Degan, had already expired in the arms of a fellow officer. The list of injured men was long, and the descriptions of their wounds were sickening. 6\n\nThe news story explained that the bombing occurred at the end of a meeting called by the city's socialists on Tuesday evening, May 4, in order to denounce the police for killing some strikers at the McCormick Reaper Works in a skirmish that took place the previous afternoon. Roughly 1,500 people had gathered for a rally that began that Tuesday at 7:30 p.m. on Desplaines Street, quite close to Randolph Street, where it widened to become the Haymarket, a busy place where farmers sold their produce by day. August Spies, the city's leading German socialist, had called the meeting to order and then had introduced the renowned labor agitator Albert R. Parsons, who spoke for nearly an hour.\n\nBy the time the last speaker mounted a hay wagon to close the meeting, only 600 people remained, according to the news report. Samuel Fielden, a burly stone hauler, had begun his speech by noting premonitions of danger obvious to all. He told the crowd to prepare for the worst, claiming that since the police had shown no mercy to the unarmed workers they gunned down at McCormick's, then the police deserved no mercy in return. \"Defend yourselves, your lives, your futures,\" Fielden shouted to a crowd the _Tribune_ described as composed of Germans (who were the most enthusiastic), along with Poles, Bohemians and a few Americans.\n\nAt this point, \"[a] stiff breeze came up from the north and, anticipating rain, more of the crowd left, the worst element, however, remaining,\" according to the _Tribune_ 's lead reporter. Fielden was winding up his address when witnesses saw a dark line of men forming south of Randolph in front of the Desplaines Street Police Station. A few minutes later the line started to move, and men on the outskirts of the rally whispered, \"Police.\" The large contingent of 176 officers moved rapidly down the street, marching double-time, like soldiers. The silver stars and buttons on the policemen's blue coats glittered in the light cast off from the nearby Lyceum Theater, the only building in this dark grid of streets that glowed with electric lights. The police column was so broad that it filled the width of Desplaines Street, forcing onlookers to move onto the wooden sidewalks.\n\nWhen the first division of police stopped just before the wagon, the officer in charge said to Fielden in a loud voice, \"In the name of the law, I command you to disperse.\" Then, said the _Tribune,_ came the \"response.\" With no warning \"something like a miniature rocket suddenly rose out of the crowd on the east sidewalk.\" It gave off a red glare as it arced about 20 feet in the air before falling in the middle of the street among the police. The bomb lay on the ground for a few seconds and then \"exploded with terrific force, shaking buildings on the street and creating havoc among the police.\" The blast stunned the officers and, before they could come to their senses, the newspaper reported, another shocking scene unfolded as \"the anarchists and rioters poured a shower of bullets into the police.\"\n\nThe patrolmen immediately let loose with their pistols and kept up an incessant shooting for nearly two minutes as the dark sky above the street glowed with the flashes of gunfire. The civilians gathered on Desplaines Street ran for their lives. Some went west on Randolph and others east toward the Chicago River. Either way, those in flight ducked as bullets whizzed past them, and many of them dropped on the streets before they could escape. \"The groans of those hit could be heard above the rattle of revolvers,\" wrote one reporter. Some of those who fled took refuge in the halls or entrances of houses and in saloons. When the shooting stopped, they cautiously ventured forth, only to face more gunfire from the police.\n\nAfter this second assault ended, reporters saw men crawling on their hands and knees. Others tottered \"along the street like drunken men, holding their hands to their heads and calling for help to take them home.\" Many victims had their wounds dressed in drugstores and on wooden sidewalks, while others boarded streetcars going in every direction and containing wounded people fleeing from the Haymarket.\n\nAt this point the journalists on the scene ran across the river to \"newspaper alley\" seven blocks away so they could file the biggest story of their lives. The news of the sensational events at the Haymarket flew across telegraph lines to newsrooms all over the nation and across the Atlantic to Europe as well. Every paper in London reported the event, and several even published long and graphic special sections with reports rendered in minute detail. Overnight, the Haymarket event became the biggest news story since Lincoln's assassination twenty-one years earlier. \"No disturbance of the peace that has occurred in the United States since the war of rebellion,\" said the _New York Times,_ \"has excited public sentiment throughout the Union as it is excited by the Anarchists' murder of policemen in Chicago on Tuesday night.\"7\n\nAt 11:30 p.m. police wagons rumbled into the Haymarket district from other precincts carrying reinforcements who cleared the streets around the station and \"mercilessly clubbed all who demurred at the order to go.\" After patrolmen drove all pedestrians from the area, the West Side fell silent, and \"Desplaines Street looked black and deserted, save where the gas-lamps showed blood on the sidewalks and the curbstones.\"\n\nThe _Tribune_ 's account then described the scene at the Desplaines Street Station: a \"harrowing spectacle of wounded and dying men on the floor oozing blood that flowed literally in streams\" until almost \"every foot of the space was red and slippery.\" Officers stoically bandaged up their own wounds but reportedly never moaned, according to one reporter who wrote that he had never seen such heroism.\n\nThe station's basement was filled with wounded civilians who were scattered around on the floor, some with serious wounds. One of them moaned and screamed, \"but the remainder were as quiet as the death which was settling down upon quite a few of their number.\" Thomas Hara of Eagle Street near the Haymarket, one of those shot in the back as he fled the melee, \"claimed to be an unoffending citizen\" but was probably a rioter, according to the _Tribune_ reporter. Policemen interviewed at the station expressed no sympathy for the men in the basement who were suspected rioters, including socialists and anarchists who had been \"preaching dynamite for years.\"\n\nReporters finally buttonholed Chief Inspector John Bonfield, who had ordered the police advance on the protest rally. \"The Communists were bent on mischief\" for some time, he explained, and therefore the police, anticipating \"the hellish intent of the Haymarket meeting,\" had massed a force of 176 officers at the Desplaines Street Station the previous night. When the meeting started, the inspector sent officers in civilian clothes out into the crowd with orders to report back to him if the speeches became dangerous. \"When finally the speakers urged riot and slaughter\" to seek revenge for the deaths of the strikers killed at McCormick's, the inspector said he issued his fateful order to march on the meeting.\n\nNONE OF THE businessmen who read this terrifying story in the _Tribune_ on May 5 had any reason to doubt the reporters' accounts. The news appeared in their paper, the city's paper of record, which was edited by Joseph Medill, perhaps the most respected journalist in the nation. An early champion of Lincoln and of war against the southern secessionists, Medill had served a term as a reform mayor of Chicago, and by 1886 he was a powerful force in the Republican Party and an influential voice in the business community. 8\n\nFor all these reasons, the _Tribune_ 's account of the events of May 4 provided a governing narrative for the city's propertied classes and for the state's attorney who would prosecute the alleged perpetrators. The news reported on May 5 carried an aura of authority and objectivity, but it also contained some curious inconsistencies and contradictions that would come into sharper focus when the smoke cleared from the streets, leaving more than a few people wondering what really happened in the Haymarket that terrible night.\n\nIn the immediate aftermath, the _Tribune_ called for severe action against those aliens responsible for the massacre. The riot in the market would not have occurred, the editor added, but for \"the excessive, ill-conceived toleration\" the mayor and city officials accorded to radical agitators. A bloody lesson had been learned; the government must deport these \"ungrateful hyenas\" and exclude any other \"foreign savages who might come to America with their dynamite bombs and anarchic purposes.\"9\n\nThese staunch opinions failed, however, to reassure the public that law and order would prevail. City residents were seized with panic as fantastic rumors swept through the city. Remembering this moment during her difficult time as a widowed dressmaker in Chicago, Mother Jones wrote that \"the city went insane and the newspapers did everything to keep it like a madhouse.\" On the morning after the violent encounter, one observer said, he passed many groups of people on the streets engaged in excited conversation about the events of the previous night. Everyone assumed that the speakers at the Haymarket meeting and other \"labor agitators\" had perpetrated the horrible crime. The air was charged with hatred and cries of \"Hang them first and try them afterwards!\"10\n\nIt was no time for careful public discussion of what had actually taken place in the Haymarket. In those first days of rage over the bombing, the daily press not only shaped but also reflected a popular certainty about who was to blame for the tragedy. There would be no discussion about why this catastrophe had occurred in Chicago, no talk of what might have been done to prevent it. Filled with horror at accounts of an unspeakable crime, citizens demanded an immediate response from the state, one that would punish not only the \"dynamite orators\" responsible for the bombing, but also those who sheltered and encouraged them.11\n\nAnd yet affixing blame for the tragedy did little to diminish the acute anxiety that swept the nation after the bombing. Indeed, identifying the anarchists as secret conspirators responsible for the lethal deed led to wild exaggerations of the menace these subversives posed to social order. In New York City, for example, the _Times_ reported that workers who \"placed responsibility for their poverty upon the bourgeoisie\" were armed with rifles and bombs and were prepared with plans to bring down \"the ruling class.\" Even after these rumors disappeared from the press, the specter of radicalism would remain alive in \"the bourgeois imagination.\" 12\n\nThe Haymarket bombing confirmed the worst fears of violent class warfare wealthy urban dwellers had harbored ever since the railroad strikes of 1877, when more than 100 workers and civilians were killed by policemen and militiamen. In all the street fighting that broke out episodically for the next nine years, strikers and rioters had been put down by the superior forces of state and local government, whose officers had suffered no fatalities of their own. Then on May 4, when one bomb thrown by a single hand shredded the ranks of the nation's strongest police force, many citizens reacted hysterically, experiencing a kind of fear they had never known before. The invention of dynamite had changed the calculus of power. Now the weakest, most wretched elements of society had a weapon that could inflict incalculable damage.\n\nPolitically motivated bombings had occurred the year before in London, where Irish-American nationalists attacked British colonial targets, and earlier in other European cities, where anarchists targeted imperial rulers, but nothing like this had ever happened in post\u2013Civil War America. There had been many riots in the nation's cities, but now, \"for the first time in the history of the Republic,\" the _New York Times_ observed, law officers had been \"killed by citizens attacking the right to private property.\" As a result, the Haymarket affair generated emotional shock waves that would reverberate through the country for years to come.13\n\nAs the frenzy of panic that gripped Chicago spread across the nation, it became clear that Americans were reacting to more than a single terrifying attack on the forces of law and order. No event since the Civil War had produced such profound excitement as the Haymarket violence, a perceptive Chicago minister observed. This was not just because this warlike act occurred during peacetime, but because the catastrophe provoked the widespread fear that the bombing was but \"the first explosion of a deep discontent on the part of millions of poor people in this and other countries.\"14\n\nTHE BOMB BLAST on May 4 triggered an avalanche of events: a police riot in which at least three protesters died, a wave of hysteria in which police and prosecutors violated civil liberties, a sensational show trial of the eight workers accused of the bombing and the intensely publicized hanging of four anarchists accused of committing the crime of the century. Indeed, the whole Haymarket affair, lasting from May 4, 1886, until November 11, 1887, when the anarchists swung from the gallows in the Cook County Jail, produced what one historian called \"a drama without end.\" 15\n\nThe hangings did not bring down the curtain on this drama, however. The Haymarket affair troubled the consciences of many citizens for years, and for the next two decades and beyond as jurists, trade unionists, journalists and other writers, even elected officials, kept trying the case over and over. The whole violent string of events in Chicago left a bitterly divided memory as its legacy. To most Americans, the dead anarchists were, as Theodore Roosevelt put it, \"the foulest sort of murderers.\" But to other people, especially immigrant workers in America, the Haymarket anarchists were heroic martyrs, brave enough to die for the cause of working-class emancipation. Indeed, the anarchists' trial and execution became, in the hands of working-class preservationists, a passion play about the prophets who surrendered their lives in order to give birth to a worldwide workers' movement. No other event in American history has exerted such a hold on the imaginations of people in other lands, especially on the minds of working people in Europe and the Latin world, where the \"martyrs of Chicago\" were annually recalled in the iconography of May Day.\n\nIn retrospect, the Haymarket affair marked a juncture in our history when many Americans came to fear radicals and reformers as dangerous subversives and to view trade unionists as irresponsible troublemakers. The explosion erupted at a time\u2014the mid-1880s\u2014when popular radical movements were attracting millions of farmers and workers, but after the bombing these movements labored under a cloud of suspicion. For mainstream trade unionists struggling to survive in a hostile environment, Haymarket was a catastrophe they wished to forget. The whole affair gave anti-union employers and government officials an opportunity to brand all labor activists violent subversives and to reject out of hand all ideas about cooperating with their workers. Still, even conventional union leaders like Samuel Gompers of the American Federation of Labor could not forget that the revolutionaries put to death in Chicago were union organizers and leaders of the crusade for the eight-hour day\u2014the cause that mobilized America's first national labor movement in 1886.16\n\nThe consequences of this tragedy for immigrants were far-reaching. Europeans of all nations had been welcomed to American shores during the post\u2013Civil War years, but after the bombing in Chicago even the much-admired Teutonic peoples of Germany became suspect. At a time when immigrants seemed to be overwhelming cities like Chicago, the Haymarket events provoked a new kind of paranoia among millions of native-born citizens, who grew much more fearful of aliens in their midst. The memory of Haymarket haunted the national consciousness for decades because nativists painted a terrifying picture of the alien anarchist as \"a ragged, unwashed, long-haired, wild-eyed fiend, armed with a smoking revolver and a bomb.\" This reaction to the Haymarket bombing created a long-lasting popular impression of the immigrant as a dangerous figure, somehow more menacing than even the most violent American.17\n\nIndeed, the explosion and the red scare that followed the event produced an atmosphere of fear and hatred that prevailed for decades and influenced the fates of other immigrant radicals, particularly those of Sacco and Vanzetti. The ordeal of these two Italian anarchists, executed in 1927 after being convicted of conspiracy to commit murder, dramatically reprised the case of the Haymarket anarchists put to death forty years earlier. What Edmund Wilson said of the Sacco and Vanzetti case and its meaning for twentieth-century America applied to the Haymarket anarchists' case as well: \"It revealed the whole anatomy of American life, with all its classes, professions, and points of view and all their relations, and it raised almost every fundamental question of our political and social system.\"18\n\nThe Haymarket case refuses to die because it involves so many troubling questions about the causes of violent conflict and the limits of free speech, about the justice of conspiracy trials and the fairness of the death penalty and about the treatment of immigrants, particularly foreign-born radicals, by the police, the newspapers and the courts. And perhaps most troubling of all, the Haymarket case challenged, like no other episode in the nineteenth century, the image of the United States as a classless society with liberty and justice for all.\n\nAmericans had been using various languages of class to describe social reality since the American Revolution, and in the years after the Civil War they began to express serious worries about the possibility that bloody battles between workers and employers would erupt, as indeed they did in the mid-1870s. But almost everyone, politicians and preachers, employers and trade union leaders alike, thought these episodes were simply the product of hard times or the result of agitation by a few rabble-rousers. After the Haymarket events, however, more and more commentators openly expressed their concern that class conflict in the United States was becoming irreconcilable. For years this extreme view had existed only on the radical margins of public opinion, but in 1886 it moved toward the center of American public discourse about what came to be known as \"the social question.\"19\n\nIN THE DAYS AFTER the bomb exploded on Desplaines Street, as most Americans concluded that crazed immigrants were alone responsible for the Haymarket calamity, a few prominent men privately worried that the violence might have been caused by other forces, forces that menaced the well-being of the democracy itself.\n\nOne of these thoughtful citizens was George Pullman. In 1883, three years before the tragedy, the industrialist had told a Senate committee that he was \"deeply disturbed\" that the conditions of life in industrial cities had become so \"dangerous and deplorable.\" He had invested millions in building a model industrial town to avoid the dangers of Chicago's urban jungle, but in the process he had created a feudal domain that denied his employees the freedom they cherished. On the morning of May 5, 1886, as Pullman wrote letters in his Michigan Avenue office, he learned that his own loyal employees, most of them native-born Americans or assimilated immigrants, were ready to strike for an eight-hour day. Even these privileged employees whose loyalty to Pullman had been rewarded with high wages and good housing had not escaped infection by the strike fever that gripped Chicago that spring.\n\nOne of the letters Pullman wrote that day was to his friend Andrew Carnegie in Pittsburgh, to thank him for sending a copy of his popular new book. In _Triumphant Democracy_ the richest man in the world praised republican government as the reason why Americans enjoyed such exceptional opportunity, prosperity and domestic tranquility. Carnegie predicted that a new \"American race\" would be created when immigrants were educated and fused with natives \"into one, in language, in thought, in feeling and in patriotism.\" Pullman ended his letter by telling Carnegie that publication of his book was very timely, because \"owing to the excesses of our turbulent population, so many are uttering doubts just now as to whether democracy has been a triumph in America.\"20\n\nMany ambitious men like George Pullman had been attracted to Chicago in the mid nineteenth century, a time when the city embodied just the kind of triumphant democracy his friend Carnegie extolled. But after working-class discontent surged through the city on May Day of 1886 and spilled into Pullman town, the famous manufacturer and reformer beheld a democracy in crisis, a society divided by mistrust and class conflict.\n\nThe governor of Illinois, Richard J. Oglesby, shared some of Pullman's anxieties during those frightful days of early May 1886. He was appalled by the news he received from Chicago of \"a vicious and riotous disturbance by the anarchists,\" but he resisted demands from leading businessmen to call out the state militia immediately after the bombing. The governor feared that inserting militia companies might turn a tense situation into an urban civil war, because he knew that the discontent among urban workers ran deep, so deep that Chicago seemed to him like a \"social volcano\" ready to blow.21 Indeed, the city had become so divided that it was difficult for Oglesby to imagine how Chicagoans would come back together again as they once had been when he had arrived in the city on another May Day not so long before. That May 1 had been in 1865, when the governor entered Chicago and saw its people standing by the thousands in the rain, bonded together in grief. The slow train that Oglesby rode into the city that dismal morning was decked out in flags and black crepe, and it bore the remains of his old friend Abraham Lincoln, the rail-splitter he had helped to make president of the United States.\nChapter One\n\n _For Once in Common Front_\n\nMAY 1, 1865\u2013MAY 1,1867\n\nTHE FIRST OF MAY was by custom a day of hope that marked the coming of spring, a day when children danced and twirled streamers around a May-pole. But in 1865 it was the gloomiest day Chicago had ever seen. For on that occasion \"the merry May pole gaily wreathed for the holiday festivities of exuberant life\" yielded its place to the \"funeral catafalque draped with Death's sad relics.\" So wrote Abraham Lincoln's friend and ally Joseph Medill in the _Chicago Tribune_ that morning of the day when the multitudes would assemble \"to do honor to the great and good King of men,\" severed from his people when he was \"slain so ruthlessly.\"1\n\nIn the dark hours of the early morning, crowds gathered all along the Illinois Central tracks on the lakeside. A light rain fell as the funeral train entered Chicago that morning; it hissed to a stop at Michigan Avenue and 12th Street, where 36,000 citizens had gathered to meet it. An honor guard loaded the presidential coffin onto an elaborate horse-drawn hearse, and citizens formed in military rank behind it. A group of thirty-six \"maidens dressed in white\" surrounded the carriage as it passed through an imposing Gothic arch dedicated to the \"Martyr for Justice.\" After each young woman placed a red rose on the president's coffin, the carriage pulled away, followed by the column of Chicagoans who marched four abreast up Michigan Avenue toward the courthouse, where their martyred president's remains would lie in state. The procession grew to 50,000 as it moved slowly up the lakeside. Along the way twice that many people lined the streets. From all over the Northwest they came\u2014by train, in wagons and buggies and on horseback, all united in silent grief. \"In the line of march and looking on, sharing something in common,\" Carl Sandburg wrote, were native-born Yankees and foreign-born Catholics, blacks and whites, German Lutherans and German Jews\u2014all \"for once in common front.\"2\n\nUp Michigan Avenue they trod in rhythm to the sound of drums beating in solemn tribute to Lincoln's memory, expressing, as the _Tribune_ put it, \"the devotion with which all classes looked up to him.\" A military band led the funeral procession of five divisions: first came the Board of Education and 5,000 schoolchildren, and then military officers and enlisted men, the combat troops of the Grand Army of the Republic led by the Old Batteries of the Chicago Light Artillery, whose cannon had laid siege to Atlanta. The black-coated men of the Board of Trade headed the next division, which also featured groups from various ethnic lodges, including 200 of the Turner gymnasts dressed in white linen. Contingents of workingmen followed, paying their respects to a president who said he was not ashamed that he had once been \"a hired laborer, mauling rails, on a flatboat\u2014just what might happen to any poor man's son!\" Nearly 300 members from the Journeymen Stonecutters' Association walked behind a banner with two sides, one reading IN UNION THERE IS STRENGTH and the other proclaiming WE UNITE TO PROTECT NOT TO INJURE.3\n\nAll through that night of May 1 and well into the next day, mourners stood in the mud and drizzle waiting to file through the courthouse for a last look at the man whose storied path to the White House had so often passed through their city. On May 2, after 125,000 people had gazed upon the face of their departed president, his coffin was escorted to St. Louis Depot on Canal Street by another elaborately organized procession led by a chorus of 250 Germans singing dirges. Lincoln's corpse was placed inside its specially built car, and at 9:30 a.m. the funeral train pulled out of the terminal carrying Illinois's \"noblest son\" to his final destination in Springfield, leaving behind a city whose people he had unified in life and, far more so, in death.4\n\nAfter its journey through the cornfields and little prairie towns Lincoln had visited as a lawyer and campaigner, the funeral train arrived in Springfield. The president's body was buried the next day in Oak Ridge Cemetery, where the eulogist recalled the late Civil War as a momentous \"contest for human freedom . . . not for this Republic merely, not for the Union simply, but to decide whether the people, as a people, were destined . . . to be subject to tyrants or aristocrats or class rule of any kind.\"5\n\nLeading Illinois Republicans who gathered at Lincoln's grave on May 4, 1865, rejoiced that free labor had triumphed over the slave system in that great war now won. They believed a new nation had emerged from the bloody conflict, new because now all of its people were \"wholly free.\" The \"four million bondsmen the martyred emancipator had liberated\" were, said the Tribune, a living epistle to Lincoln's immortality.6 But were all the people now wholly free?\n\n_President Lincoln's funeral hearse passing beneath the arch at 12th Street in_ _Chicago, May 1, 1865_\n\nIN THE YEARS after Lincoln's death, emancipated slaves found many compelling reasons to question the meaning of their new freedom in the face of the reign of white terror that descended upon them. At the same time, for quite different reasons, workingmen, the very mechanics who benefited most from the free labor system Lincoln had extolled, began to doubt the nature of their liberty. A few months before the war ended, the nation's most influential trade union leader, William H. Sylvis, came to Chicago and sounded an alarm that echoed in many labor newspapers in the closing months of the war. The president of the powerful Iron Molders' International Union excoriated employers who took advantage of the war emergency to fatten their profits while keeping their employees on lean wages. When union workers protested with strikes, politicians called them traitors, soldiers drove them back to work, and many loyal union men were fired and blacklisted by their bosses in retaliation. How, Sylvis asked, could a republic at war with the principle of slavery make it a felony for a workingman to exercise his right to protest, a right President Lincoln had once celebrated as the emblem of free labor? \"What would it profit us, as a nation,\" the labor leader wondered, if the Union and its Constitution were preserved but essential republican principles were violated? If the \"greasy mechanics and horny-handed sons of toil\" who elected Abe Lincoln became slaves to work instead of self-educated citizens and producers, what would become of the Republic?7\n\nSylvis told his iron molders that tyranny was based upon ignorance compounded by \"long hours, low wages and few privileges,\" while liberty was founded on education and free association among workingmen. Only when wage earners united could they achieve individual competence and independence. Only then would they exercise a voice in determining their share of the increased wealth and the expanded freedom that would come to the nation after the war. 8\n\nAmerica had never produced a labor leader as intelligent, articulate and effective as William Sylvis. Born in western Pennsylvania to parents in humble circumstances, young William was let out as a servant to a wealthy neighbor who sent him to school and gave him the key to a good library. Later, after helping in his father's wagon shop, Sylvis apprenticed himself to a local iron foundry owner, a master craftsman who taught his young helper the ancient arts of smelting and smithing and the methods of making molten iron flow into wooden molds to shape the iron products he had designed. After he married, the young molder moved to Philadelphia to ply his trade, but he found it a struggle working long hours every day to provide for his family and failing to rise above the level of manual laborer.9\n\nWilliam Sylvis found another way to raise himself up. He became secretary of his local union in 1859, and then two years later secretary of the new National Union of Iron Molders. By this time Sylvis had decided that mechanics were losing their independence and respectability because certain owners monopolized branches of industry and used their power to reduce wages. The rugged individualist was no match against these men who used money and political clout to advance themselves at the expense of their employees. \"Single-handed, we can accomplish nothing,\" he wrote, \"but united there is no power of wrong we may not openly defy.\" 10\n\nIn these years before the Civil War, however, prospects for a united labor movement were bleak. Only a few unions, like those of printers, machinists and locomotive engineers, had created national organizations. Most trade unions functioned within local settings where they had been formed by craftsmen who still dreamed of being masters and proprietors of their own shops and employers of their own helpers. These artisans often used radical language to denounce the merchant capitalists, bankers and monopolists, the \"purse proud aristocrats\" and \"blood sucking parasites\" who lived off the honest producers. Yet antebellum labor unionists, even radicals, tended to be craft-conscious more than class-conscious, barring females and free blacks from their associations and turning their backs on the women, children and immigrant \"wage slaves\" who toiled in factories. 11\n\nBefore 1860 common laborers and factory workers rarely formed lasting unions, and when they took concerted action, it was usually to resist wage cuts rather than to force employers to recognize their organizations. Their strikes were often ritualistic protests that rarely involved violent conflicts.12 The one cause that brought diverse groups of workers together was the campaign to shorten the workday to ten hours. Initiated by journeymen carpenters and women textile workers in 1835, the crusade gained thousands of adherents in northern shops and factories and then faded in the 1850s. Middle-class reformers and politicians took up the cause and lobbied for ten-hour laws in legislative halls, but their moderate arguments for shorter hours failed to produce effective laws. At the onset of the Civil War the ten-hour movement was dead.\n\nWhen northern artisans and mechanics left the shops to join the federal armed forces in 1861, trade unions all but disappeared. The largest group of Union soldiers consisted of farmers, but as more and more troops were conscripted, workingmen constituted a growing proportion of the northern armed forces, so that by the end of the war 421 of every 1,000 soldiers who served in the northern ranks were wage workers, as compared to 35 of every 1,000 who listed business and commercial occupations. With their sons, brothers, cousins and neighbors dying on southern battlefields, those mechanics who remained at work fashioning and feeding the Union war machine found themselves working shorthanded and toiling harder than ever for greenback wages that could not keep up with astounding increases in the cost of fuel, rent and foodstuffs.13\n\nWilliam Sylvis was well aware of these conditions when he became his union's national president in 1863. And so, as the War Between the States raged on, he decided it was time to bring the union back to the foundries, even if he had to do it single-handedly. He was thirty-six years old by then, \"a medium-sized man, strongly built, of florid complexion, light beard and moustache, and a face and eyes beaming with intelligence,\" wrote one reporter. Still lean from his days at the forge, he drove himself mercilessly, giving speech after speech in a passionate style of oratory. That year he visited more than 100 foundries and organized many new locals. He wore the same suit until it became threadbare, and the scarf he wore was filled with little holes burned in it by the splashing of molten iron.14\n\nWith tenacity and boundless energy, William Sylvis rebuilt the Molders' Union into the strongest in the country, creating the first effectively administered national labor organization in history, with a dues-collection system, a real treasury and a strike fund. \"From a mere pigmy, our union has grown in one short year to be a giant,\" he reported, \"like a mighty oak with branches stretching out in every direction.\"15\n\nBy 1865, when Sylvis addressed his national convention in Chicago, he reported that nearly all the foundry owners in the nation had agreed to employ only molders who held a union card. One of the strongest local unions of iron molders flourished at Chicago's premier manufacturing plant, the farm reaper works owned and operated by Cyrus and Leander McCormick. Their employees struck four times for wage increases in 1863 and 1864, and won each time. Plant managers reported feeling powerless to resist the well-organized molders.16 When the Civil War ended, Sylvis's molders constituted the vanguard of what promised to become the nation's first coordinated union movement, a new army of labor. Trade union officers like Sylvis were painfully aware, however, that powerful forces had already been mobilized to block their advance.\n\nDURING THE WAR the iron molders and other trade unionists encountered new employers' associations formed to resist any union demands for wage increases or reduced hours; these groups usually succeeded in destroying the fledgling labor unions by imposing lockouts and breaking strikes. Once they gained the upper hand, united employers fired and blacklisted union men and demanded that those who returned to work sign \"yellow-dog contracts\" promising not to rejoin the union. This coordinated opposition from employers frightened Sylvis and convinced him that a violent collision between labor and capital was coming. He concluded that union workers needed a national labor federation \"to protect the rights of mechanics from being trammeled throughout the length and breadth of the land.\"17\n\nIn charting a new course for the postbellum era, William Sylvis needed the help of a good navigator. He found one in Andrew C. Cameron of Chicago, the editor of a feisty labor newspaper called the _Working-man's Advocate._ Cameron had already been a combatant in early skirmishes with employers that broke out in Chicago while the Civil War still raged. He had come to America from Scotland as a young printer's apprentice, having learned the trade from his father in Berwick-on-Tweed, a historic center of Scottish resistance to English rule. He grew up during a time when the North Country was awash with a great mass movement for a People's Charter that would democratize the English Parliament and legalize universal manhood suffrage. The Chartist movement left a legacy that many English and Scottish workers carried to America: a tradition of questioning the new industrialism and of proposing checks on the free play of the market\u2014all this based on an outlook with a \"dangerous tenet: that production must be, not for profit, but for use.\"18\n\nAfter securing a position as a printer for the _Chicago Times_ in 1860, Cameron emerged as the leader of a wartime strike against the paper's imperious publisher, Wilbur F. Storey, who had dismissed his union printers in order to hire cheaper hands.19 Unable to state their case in the city's daily papers, the strikers formed their own opposition newspaper, the _Workingman's Advocate,_ \"devoted exclusively to the interests of the producing classes,\" and asked Andrew Cameron to be its editor. It was a task he performed with all the \"vim and independence characteristic of a Scotch Covenanter who hated tyranny and oppression from what ever source.\"20\n\nCameron shared William Sylvis's concerns about the high-handed behavior of certain offensive employers during the Civil War.21 As he saw it, greedy monopolists ignored worker sacrifices at home and on the field of battle while taking advantage of the war to freeze wages and pad their pockets with federal contracts as they cornered markets and fleeced their men. This behavior, he wrote in the _Workingman's Advocate,_ had produced in Chicago and elsewhere a \"general dissatisfaction with the existing state of affairs\" and a yearning to expand the boundaries of freedom for the mechanic and the laborer. Sylvis and Cameron believed that Lincoln's ideal notion of an equal partnership between labor and capital had died with the martyred president. They also thought that workingmen who depended on wages paid by an employer no longer believed they could raise themselves up and become self-made men, as the Illinois rail-splitter had done. The wage system itself had created two distinct and antagonistic classes now locked in what seemed like an \"irrepressible conflict.\" And so, as peace finally came to a war-torn nation, Cameron believed that \"another battle was announcing itself.\"22\n\n_William H. Sylvis_\n\nThere was a way to prevent the violent collision of labor and capital the labor leaders feared, a way for workers to gain more equally from \"the privileges and blessings of those free institutions\" they defended \"by their manhood on many a bloody field of battle.\" The way forward could be paved by a powerful movement capable of winning a historic victory: legislation reducing the sunup-to-sundown workday to a humane length of eight hours. This achievement would be the first step toward what Sylvis called the \"social emancipation\" of working people.23\n\nThe inauguration of the eight-hour system would end the degradation of the endless workday. It would create new time for the kind of education workers needed to become more effective producers and more active citizens. Beyond this, self-education would allow workers to create a cooperative system of production that would eventually replace the current coercive system in which men were forced to sell their labor for wages. 24\n\nAll these ideas had been articulated by the founder of the movement, a machinist from Massachusetts named Ira Steward. The self-taught Bay State mechanic had launched a wartime reform movement that infected masses of common people with a desire, a fever, for freedom and equality. Steward believed that the right of a free laborer to come and go as he pleased had been rendered \"abstract\" by a wage system that allowed employers to unilaterally set the terms of work, and then to collude among themselves to artificially limit wages and maintain long hours. Steward, an ardent abolitionist, rejoiced over the abolition of chattel slavery and then looked forward to the liberation of the wage earner, that \"free\" laborer who worked from sunup to sundown and instinctively felt that \"something of slavery\" still remained and that \"something of freedom\" was yet to come.25\n\nIn 1866, Steward's followers established eight-hour leagues across the land as workers organized huge public meetings and labor processions. That year workingmen celebrated the Fourth of July in Chicago and other northern cities by singing Civil War\u2013era tunes like \"John Brown's Body\" with new words composed by eight-hour men.26 This postwar insurgency impressed Karl Marx, who had followed Civil War events closely from England. In 1864 he helped create the International Workingmen's Association in London, whose founders hoped to make the eight-hour day a rallying cry around the world. The association and its program failed to draw a significant response from workers in Europe. Instead it was from the United States that the \"tocsin\" of revolutionary change could be heard. \"Out of the death of slavery, a new and vigorous life at once arose,\" Marx wrote in _Capital._ \"The first fruit of the Civil War was the eight hours agitation,\" which ran, he said, with the speed of an express train from the Atlantic to the Pacific.27\n\nThe evangelical work of the eight-hour leagues produced \"a grand revival of the labor movement,\" as new organizations multiplied and isolated unions amalgamated, forming more than thirty new national trade unions and associations. In Chicago, a new Trades Assembly, led by Andrew Cameron, doubled in size to include twenty-four unions and 8,500 workers by the end of 1865. The city's Eight-Hour League established itself in various working-class wards and laid the groundwork for an aggressive legislative campaign to make eight hours a \"legal day's work.\" On May 2, 1866, one year after the city paid its respects to its deceased president, Cameron announced with great fanfare the convening in Chicago of the first statewide convention of the Grand Eight-Hour League. The mechanics and workingmen who attended the gathering resolved to make Illinois the first state to legislate the eight-hour system.28\n\nIn August of 1866, Cameron joined forces with William Sylvis and other trade union chiefs to found the National Labor Union, the first organization of its kind. Cameron's _Advocate_ became the union's official organ and, after the organization's second congress, he helped prepare a summary of its resolutions.29 The elegantly worded manifesto Cameron and four other workingmen drafted insisted that the eight-hour system was essential to the health and well-being of wage earners and their families and that workers themselves must take united action to win it. Their concerted effort must allow no distinction by race or nationality and \"no separation of Jew or Gentile, Christian or Infidel.\" The failure of earlier ten-hour laws demonstrated that well-meaning reformers could not exert the pressure needed to achieve this much-desired reform. Only workers themselves could hold state legislators accountable to their constituents.30\n\nThe vision of emancipation articulated by Cameron, Sylvis and the eight-hour men could be realized only if workers acted together as citizens to make the republican system of government work on their behalf. They would need to use the power of the national state to correct the abuses workingmen had suffered at the hands of judges who threw out shorter-hours laws and at the hands of employers who created \"combinations\" to limit their wages, set their hours and break their unions. Here was a bold, even audacious insistence that the Republic accede for the first time in history to a working-class demand. As a result, the call for the \"eight-hour system\" seemed to employers less like a proposal for reform and more like a demand for radical change in the political balance of power.\n\nBefore the Civil War, labor activists could not have imagined such a new order because they were for the most part disciples of Jefferson and Jackson, who feared government tyranny as much as overbearing monopoly. But after the emancipation and the beginnings of Reconstruction, they saw arising a new kind of national state, one powerful enough to eradicate slavery and construct a new democracy in its place.31 As a result, organized workers now looked to Washington with hopes of gaining their own liberation.\n\nIn 1866, Andrew Cameron used his growing influence as editor of the _Advocate_ and organizer of the Eight-Hour League to launch a nonpartisan lobbying campaign for a state law to reduce the length of the working day. While Democrats and Republicans fought bitterly in the state capitol over other issues, Eight-Hour League activists energetically worked the legislative halls in Springfield, seeking a legal limit to the workday. Cameron refused to pin his hopes on either the Republicans or the Democrats and directed his activists to work both sides of the aisle. His strategy worked, as bipartisan support for a shorter-hours bill materialized. On March 2, 1867, the Republican governor of Illinois, Richard J. Oglesby, signed the nation's first eight-hour law, to take effect on May 1.32\n\nChicago workers expressed their unbounded joy at a packed lakefront rally on March 30 that they had organized to \"ratify\" the law and to display their newfound power. Governor Oglesby spoke to them and invoked his days as a young carpenter and a friend of Abraham Lincoln, who, as president, had sympathized with the mechanics' plight during the Civil War. A popular personality in Illinois, \"Uncle Dick\" Oglesby had invented the \"rail-splitter\" image for Lincoln during his first presidential campaign. Four years later the two men ran on the same ticket in the fateful wartime election of 1864. Oglesby, a war hero with a Mini\u00e9 ball lodged in his chest, ran for governor that year and courageously stood by the president, defending his Emancipation Proclamation and facing down racist Democrats as he did. In April of 1865, Oglesby was at Lincoln's bedside as he lay dying, and on May 1 he was on the funeral train that carried his friend's body to Chicago. Now, just two years later, Oglesby stood before a Chicago crowd and declared that eight hours of work was enough to ask of workingmen and that eight hours of freedom during the day was \"none too long for study and recreation.\" 33\n\nOglesby then introduced the state's new attorney general, Robert Green Ingersoll, who was also a decorated colonel in the Union army and a devoted Lincoln man. Like the governor, the young lawyer was a Radical Republican who supported forceful measures to reconstruct and reform the Confederate states. Ingersoll was a rare character in American politics then, a freethinker who opposed the influence of religion in civic life. Like many Radical Republicans in 1867, he had warmly supported the eight-hour day, even though the party's business supporters opposed it. Indeed, Ingersoll outdid Governor Oglesby in his endorsement of the cause, evoking lusty cheers from the assembled workers when he proclaimed that the workday should be even less than eight hours so that wage earners could \"educate themselves until they become the equals in all respects of any class.\"34\n\nA Chicago labor activist who witnessed this occasion believed that it marked a new beginning for his city. \"In this great emporium, to all outside appearances devoted to the interests of commerce and middle men, it was a sublime spectacle; this clasping of fraternal hands, between the laborer and the highest officers of the State, over the heads of defiant capitalists . . . ,\" the writer observed. \"Our State is full of rail splitters turned statesmen, and they have proved . . . to be the strongest and toughest timber ever used in the construction of national councils.\" 35 Here was a pregnant moment in American political history, when the dream of universal freedom created a bond between Republicans like Richard Oglesby who were determined to reconstruct the South and labor reformers like Andrew Cameron, set to make the nation's wage workers truly free.\n\nThe advocates of the eight-hour system believed that the American economy was capable of expanding infinitely to benefit all productive citizens. Their own political economist, Ira Steward, rejected the prevailing theory, which held that at any given time there was a fund of fixed size from which each dollar a capitalist paid in wages meant a corresponding cut in profits. Few economists of the era thought of wages as elastic, able to rise with profits as productivity improved. Steward argued, however, that workers themselves cultivated tastes and desires that required a higher standard of living, whereas \"men who labored incessantly\" were \"robbed of all ambition to ask for anything more than will satisfy their bodily necessities.\" 36 If the great Republic could guarantee a producer the free time required to become an educated citizen who expected a decent income, a worker could climb out of poverty to gain independence and self-respect.\n\nThe eight-hour day would benefit employer and worker alike by creating more leisure and stimulating the desire for more consumption, and thus the need for higher wages. And so, the advocates believed, this one reform would lift all boats on a swelling ocean of prosperity and calm the rough waves of class conflict. Some businessmen accused the eight-hour men of being \"levelers\" who wanted the state to confiscate private property. But this was a canard, Andrew Cameron replied. Why would the labor movement want to destroy capital, he asked, when labor was \"the sole creator of capital\" and when worker and employer shared a common interest in producing and marketing goods for their mutual benefit?37\n\nNowhere in America did the dream of mutual gains seem more possible than it did in Chicago after the Civil War, a place where the demand for labor seemed insatiable and where the prospects for prosperity seemed unlimited. It was the city of self-made men who started out wearing overalls and using tools and ended up wearing silk suits and high hats. It was a city that would, its promoters promised, become a paradise for workers and speculators. 38\nChapter Two\n\n _A Paradise for Workers and Speculators_\n\nMAY 1867\u2013AUGUST 1870\n\nON MAY 15, 1866, Chicago's leading men gathered ceremoniously to open a new city slaughterhouse on the South Branch of the Chicago River. All members of the Common Council were there in Bridgeport, according to the _Chicago Tribune,_ together with the police and health commissioners, \"a number of the city's butchers and a miscellaneous assemblage of persons who, for lack of a better classification, are set down as citizens.\" When the mayor cut the ribbon, the band burst into patriotic tunes, and among the dignitaries there was \"lots of propulsive hand shaking and how-de-dos.\" Then, after the first ceremonial pig was cut, the river echoed with cheers. 1\n\nThere was much to celebrate in Bridgeport that day. The city's slaughtering and packing industry had boomed during the Civil War because politicians had secured lucrative military contracts to supply rations. By 1864 the city's pork-processing operations consumed so many hogs that if they were placed in a line, one promoter boasted, it would stretch all the way from Chicago to New York.2 And now, two years later, prospects for further growth seemed unlimited, not only for the pork producers, but for all the city's entrepreneurs.\n\nWith easy access to eastern markets via the Great Lakes and to the western states via the Illinois & Michigan Canal link to the Mississippi, Chicago's businessmen enjoyed decisive advantages over all regional competitors. By the end of the Civil War, their city was the western terminus of every major railroad east of the Mississippi. All the eastern railroads were built to Chicago, and the western roads were built from it. The Chicago, Burlington & Quincy made the crucial link to Omaha and a vast Nebraska territory of corn and hog production, a connection that would soon extend all the way to the Pacific.3 As a result, the city became \"the principal wholesale market for the entire mid-continent,\" serving \"as the _entrepot\u2014_ the place in between\u2014connecting eastern markets with vast western resource regions,\" according to historian William Cronon.4\n\nAs their iron rails reached out from Chicago, the railroads introduced modern capitalist business methods to the whole region, methods that had been perfected in the city on Lake Michigan. Chicago's grain business was so profitable that it generated \"an orgy of hazardous undertakings\" in spot trading and futures trading as the Board of Trade more than doubled its membership. The city's enormous trade on the Great Lakes also swelled during the war, and then exploded afterward. The lumber industry was served by its own fleet of boats, which brought hardwoods from the north country, and by the Illinois Central Railroad, which hauled cars filled with southern pine from Texas and Louisiana. All along the banks of the South Branch of the Chicago River stretched vast lumberyards where stacks of cut timber, some as high as 30 feet, spread out for acres. A large corps of immigrant lumber shovers and dockworkers moved the wood all day long to ships in fourteen water slips and to waiting flatcars on fourteen railroad spurs built by the Chicago, Burlington & Quincy Railroad. Its trains hauled scarce lumber all over the treeless expanses of the great West, where farmers and townspeople awaited shipments of prefabricated stores, houses, churches and schools\u2014all made in Chicago. Along with cut and milled lumber, the westerners received a vast array of valued products from the booming metropolis: tables and upholstered chairs, men's overalls and women's dresses, church organs and parlor pianos, as well as cast-iron stoves and tools from the city's foundries, endless barrels of salted pork from the stockyards and lager beer from the German breweries, Bibles and dime novels from the shops on Printers Row, fancy notions from Marshall Field's dry-goods emporium and, most important of all, plowshares to break the prairies and mechanical harvesters to reap their bounty.5\n\nThe cornucopia of material goods that issued forth from hundreds of Chicago factories, mills, forges and shops required an ever-expanding army of willing wage workers. As a result, the city acted like an enormous magnet that dragged in farm boys from near and far, along with gamblers, Civil War veterans, tramping artisans and Canadian adventurers; from Europe came trainloads and boatloads of displaced peasants and farm laborers, as well as failed tradesmen, frustrated apprentices, political exiles and unwilling conscripts.6 Chicago's population doubled during the 1860s mainly because so many Europeans arrived\u201437,000 from the German states, 20,000 from Ireland, along with roughly 9,000 from Norway and Sweden, 8,500 from England, Scotland and Wales, and 7,700 from the British provinces in Canada. Some of these newcomers became entrepreneurs, land speculators and merchants serving ethnic customers, but most of them entered a wage-earning workforce created by the city's explosive industrial growth. The number of Chicago workers employed in manufacturing multiplied five times during and after the Civil War, and most of these new workers were foreigners. 7\n\nThe city fathers harbored no doubt that these newcomers to Chicago would succeed and become productive citizens and homeowners. Indeed, during the late 1860s, wages earned by skilled workers increased significantly in terms of daily rates and of purchasing power. Furthermore, low-cost housing became more available in Chicago than in most big cities because of the invention of the balloon-frame house, the oversupply of cheap lumber and the seemingly endless availability of housing lots stretching west and south from the business district. Thousands of pine-box shanties arose on the prairie along with poorly built business blocks. All this plus sidewalks covered with pine blocks and planks created what one historian called \"long lines of well-laid kindling.\" Some Chicagoans realized the risks that lay in a city built of pine, but contractors ignored all warnings of danger and threw up new, cheap houses for workers as fast as they could.8\n\nAs the labor editor Andrew Cameron moved through the city in 1866, he observed a new \"aristocracy\" settled on a few islands of wealthy real estate in a vast sea of working people who trudged off to work in the dim morning light and returned to their pine-box homes in the dark. Like Dickens, the most popular English writer of the time, the Scottish reformer told a tale of two cities. He knew that thousands of ordinary people had achieved success in the city as real estate salesmen, contractors, saloonkeepers, store clerks, brokers and tradesmen of all kinds, but he worried about the others, the tens of thousands who feared that wage labor at long hours had become a life sentence.\n\nYet Cameron was an optimist. He believed that when the new Illinois eight-hour law took effect on May 1, 1867, wage earners would no longer have to endure \"a protracted life of endless toil.\" Labor reform would rescue these floundering multitudes and help bring them to another shore, where they would enjoy the free time to better themselves and to work their way out of poverty.9\n\nTHE REALIZATION OF Andrew Cameron's vision required more than the goodwill of a governor and a state legislature; it required the assent of the city's employers. Chicago's hard-driving businessmen soon showed they had no such inclination when seventy manufacturers formed a united front to resist the new statute. These employers despised the eight-hour law, which seemed to them a foolish attempt to diminish the wealth of both workers and capitalists. After all, they asked, what employee would willingly sacrifice two or more hours' pay every day, and what employer would accept reduced output from employees? The eight-hour law's opponents simply rejected the theory that an employee who worked eight hours would produce more, earn more and then purchase more as a consumer. In any case, they insisted that such a statute violated a sacred principle: the right of each employee to make an individual contract with an employer. If eight hours became the legal workday, it would deny a worker the freedom to work for nine, ten, twelve or more hours. Businessmen also opposed laws of this kind because they extended the functions of republican government far beyond what they saw as their intended limits. Republican leaders like _Tribune_ editor Joseph Medill believed federal legislation was required to guarantee universal manhood suffrage and equal rights, but the state had to stay out of the marketplace and avoid offering protection to certain groups.10\n\nAs Chicago employers mounted their resistance in the winter of 1867, a Boston labor newspaper warned its readers that capital had its back up. 11 Fearing the worst, Cameron and other labor leaders threatened a general strike if employers defied the law when it took effect on May 1. Hoping for the best, tens of thousands of workers gathered in Chicago that May Day for a march from the Union Stock Yards to celebrate the eight-hour law's inauguration. The _Times_ described it as the \"largest procession ever seen in the streets of Chicago.\" It included divisions from forty-four unions represented by workmen carrying banners inscribed with the symbols of their craft and the slogans of their cause, such as EIGHT HOURS AND NO CONCESSION and WE RESPECT THE LAWS OF THE STATE. The Stonecutters' Association sent a contingent of 259 men in white silk aprons marching with three horse-drawn wagons, including one with a large banner that read HAIL TO MAY 1, 1867, A DAY LONG TO BE REMEMBERED BY ALL WORKERS.12\n\nThe workers moved in an orderly fashion toward the lakefront, where they gathered to hear speeches in English and German from their leaders, who warned them that \"capital\" might undermine their victory. Anxiety rose in this massive crowd when the city's Republican mayor, J. B. Rice, appealed for compromise in case the employers refused to accept the law. Other Republican officials sent letters of support but did not appear. Governor Oglesby, who had spoken so boldly for eight hours in March, remained in Springfield on May 1 and sent no message.\n\nOn May 2 the largest Chicago employers refused to obey the new law and ordered their employees back to work for the customary ten or eleven hours. In response, worker protests and strikes closed railroad car shops, shipping depots, lumberyards and wood-planing mills. In the Irish section of Bridgeport, workers shut down all the packinghouses and rolling mills. The powerful Machinists' Union ordered members out of their shops, and the Iron Molders' Union banked the fires in all but eight of the city's foundries. The McCormicks opened the gate to their harvester factory on May 2, expecting the men to work ten hours as usual, and were surprised when the union workers left work after completing an eight-hour day. This action led Leander McCormick to complain bitterly to his brother Cyrus about his troubles with \"the Eight-Hour men.\" He wanted a stronger man to boss the works, a replacement for the current foreman, a former molder who remained too close to the men. \"The union is controlling our shop . . . ,\" Leander complained, \"and we ought at whatever cost to hire men outside of it.\" This message presaged the outbreak of a nineteen-year war between the McCormicks and their union molders.13\n\nOn May 3 gangs of workingmen and boys roamed the city's factory and freight yard districts, brandishing sticks and fence posts and forcing many other laborers out of their factories. Rumors spread that the strikers had set fire to the Armour & Dole grain elevator and that scores of them had been shot dead by soldiers. On May 4 all Bridgeport seemed roused as a large body of strikers marched up Archer Avenue, its ranks swollen to 5,000 with boys and unemployed men who pulled more men out of factories, slashed drive belts on machines and released steam from boilers. Some of the Irish butchers, lumber shovers and iron rollers in the crowd had served in Colonel James Mulligan's Irish Brigade during the Appomattox campaign. The use of force seemed justifiable to these men who had so recently fought on southern battlefields where terrible violence and death had been constant realities. Some of these workers took up arms, telling reporters that if they were jailed for rioting, Governor Dick Oglesby, the former Union army colonel, would pardon them.14 They were encouraged when the governor rejected Mayor Rice's appeal for the state militia and expressed his confidence that, despite the disturbances in Bridgeport, the labor movement's intentions remained peaceful. The governor did not, however, promise to enforce the state's eight-hour law.15\n\nMayor Rice soon took matters into his own hands, calling upon the Dearborn Light Artillery to support the Chicago police. He also issued an order making it a crime to take action against employees who wanted to work for ten or twelve hours a day. By May 5, police officers and troops had gained control of the city's troubled industrial zones and immigrant neighborhoods, and by May 8 the backbone of the protest strike had been broken. Despondent eight-hour men returned to shops and factories with the long workday still in effect. Union leaders bitterly denounced the politicians who had deserted the labor movement and desperately appealed for help from eight-hour leagues in other cities, but it was too late.16\n\nThe defeat that Chicago employers imposed on the strongest labor movement in the country during those first days of May in 1867 disheartened eight-hour activists across the land.17 And in Illinois the experience of defeat carried a deeper meaning. The betrayal of the eight-hour law struck a blow at the labor reformers' belief that they could rely on enlightened legislation to free toilers from artificial restraints like long hours that kept them from joining the ranks of self-made men. Indeed, the repression of the May protests in Chicago nearly extinguished a vision of parity that labor reformers had kindled during the Civil War.\n\nIN HIS BITTERNESS over the 1867 defeat, Andrew Cameron snapped at the men who returned to their ten-hour jobs, calling their retreat \"craven.\" He also admitted that the May 1 strikes had been poorly organized and undisciplined and that the rioting on Halsted Street damaged the eight-hour movement's respectability. There must be no more \"groping in the dark,\" Cameron declared, no more disunity of the kind that undermined the strike. He took a long view of the struggle for freedom, reminding his discouraged readers that \"revolutions never go backwards.\" The strike of 1867 would be a stepping-stone on the path to future success, leading to the creation of a stronger organization and the enactment of national legislation that would benefit labor and capital. 18\n\nAfter state government failed them, the eight-hour men turned their energy toward Washington. Illinois officials had claimed the 1867 law, if enforced, would have put the state's businessmen at a disadvantage with regard to their out-of-state competitors. National legislation would render this objection moot. The eight-hour reformers had other reasons to feel optimistic. If Congress could amend the Constitution to prohibit involuntary servitude and pass a civil rights act that outlawed coercive labor contracts such as the Black Codes, then surely Congress could adopt the measures the eight-hour men proposed to end the tyranny of the endless workday.19\n\nIn 1868 delegates to a National Labor Union congress elected William Sylvis president, made A. C. Cameron's _Advocate_ their official organ and dispatched representatives to Washington to lobby for an eight-hour law for government employees. Much to their delight, Congress enacted such a law on June 25, 1868, one that mandated an eight-hour day for mechanics and laborers employed by the federal government.20\n\nOn the Fourth of July, Cameron trumpeted these glad tidings in his paper. He then reconvened the Eight-Hour Committee to plan a torchlight parade celebrating the first congressional victory that the labor movement had ever enjoyed. The procession that took place was, however, a pale reflection of the spectacular march to the lakeshore on May 1,1867.21\n\nThe years that followed the defeat of the eight-hour strike were arduous ones for Chicago's workers, skilled and unskilled alike, as employers cut wages and hired newcomers, \"green hands\" willing to work for less pay. During the fall the ranks of unemployed people swelled and the lines of desperate people seeking charity lengthened. Of the forty trade unions that had marched in the grand procession on May Day a year before, only a few survived that grim winter.22\n\nEverywhere he turned, it seemed, Cameron's efforts were repulsed, his hopes deflated. He even failed in his effort to put a legislative ban on convict labor. This new defeat was a painful coda to the betrayal of the 1867 law. Cameron's despair deepened when Washington officials refused to implement the eight-hour law for a few thousand mechanics employed by the federal government. Though President Ulysses S. Grant claimed to be in favor of the statute, his cabinet secretaries issued orders that negated the law by \"virtually cheating workers\" out of a portion of the pay they earned for eight hours' work.23\n\nWhen William Sylvis died of stomach cancer in 1869 at the age of forty-one, the young labor movement he had inspired seemed to die with him. Sylvis's hopes for an emancipatory eight-hour law had been dashed by the realities of politics in Washington, and his dreams of a unified labor movement foundered on the rocks of race and ethnicity. Delegates to three National Labor Union congresses had listened respectfully to the celebrated reformer's appeal that \"every union inculcate the grand ennobling idea that the interests of labor are one; that there should be no distinction of race or nationality,\" but each time they ignored him and refused to open their doors to black workers. The conventioneers had also listened to the president of the Colored Laborers' Union ask for their support for the reconstruction of the Old South, and they had heard his warning that the bloody struggle to grant the black man full citizenship would be \"a complete failure\" if he was barred from the nation's workshops, but they paid him no mind. 24\n\nAndrew Cameron delivered an eloquent eulogy to his friend Sylvis and returned to his desk at the _Advocate,_ where he wrote renewed calls for racial equality in politics and industry. However, Cameron's hopes for a national labor movement based on egalitarianism were difficult to sustain after Sylvis's death. Indeed, the National Labor Union passed away soon after its leader died. Yet, something remained of William Sylvis's dream. The visionary iron molder left a legacy to future worker activists who would create the nation's first national labor movement. It was a legacy based on two powerful ideas: the idea of an eight-hour system that would allow the self-educated workman to rise out of wage dependency and the idea of one big labor movement that would unite working people, transcend their divisions and recapture the Republic for the great majority.25\n\nIn 1870, however, it seemed that even this intellectual inheritance would be lost forever. The year began with a hard and bitter winter for Chicago's working people. More than 20,000 \"houseless wanderers\" roamed the city by day and huddled in alleys and under bridges. The city's few existing unions shriveled up in the cold. It was then that Andrew Cameron sounded a bugle of retreat, announcing, without much emotion, that the Chicago Trades Assembly he had helped to create and lead through its glory days had died a natural death.\n\nGone was the spirit of solidarity that once infused the city's labor movement. German workers formed their own trades assembly and published their own newspaper, _Deutsche Arbeiter,_ edited by a group of new exiles arrived from Germany who adhered to the socialist ideas of Ferdinand Lassalle and Karl Marx. But little came of their efforts, and these new arrivals soon disappeared from public view, submerged within the city's enormous population of German workers who were struggling to make their way in this workers' paradise.26\n\nDURING THE LATE 1860s many of the European immigrants flooding into the city could not gain as much access to employment and housing as those who had arrived before the Civil War, according to an agent for the German Society of Chicago. The city's reputation for opportunity continued to draw a mass of people from overseas who came to Chicago expecting to find \"a new El Dorado\" but instead found a city filled with jobless and homeless immigrants suffering from hunger and misery.27 An abundance of products was available for purchase in Chicago's many stores, but these goods were inaccessible to most of the newcomers. Houses were readily available to immigrants who could afford small down payments, but many newcomers did not have the cash or the income to make mortgage payments, so they flopped into rooming houses, crowded into the cramped quarters of relatives or camped outdoors. Those who could manage mortgages moved into houses in a vast district of pine shanties that spread west from the Chicago River's South Branch and farther south, to Bridgeport below the river, where open sewers and unpaved streets with pools of waste emitted a stench noxious enough to asphyxiate cats and dogs.28\n\nDuring the Civil War era well-to-do merchants and lawyers had lived on the same streets as printers, tailors and brewers, and, in some cases, not far from the pine-box neighborhoods of factory hands and construction workers. But as the city's wealth in real and personal property grew (ninefold in the 1860s), the nouveaux riches moved uptown toward the new Lincoln Park and out of the West End to Union Park and to the town houses along tree-lined Washington Boulevard\u2014far from the filthy, stinking streets of the old inner city.29 In 1870 the median value of real estate properties owned by the upper classes averaged nearly ten times the valuation of homes owned by unskilled workers. Many clerks, managers and salesmen also bought more modest houses on the North and Far West sides. As a result, homeownership increased to 38 percent among business and professional men at a time when working-class homeownership declined.30\n\nThese social differences between the rich and the working poor were masked to Chicago's many wide-eyed visitors. Tourists invariably expressed amazement at the city's physical characteristics\u2014the awesome distances it encompassed, the range of industries it incorporated, the huge volume of train traffic it handled, the stunning height of its grain elevators and office buildings, the unending passage of ships that came and went from its river and harbor every day. These observers were awed by the city's audacity in reversing the flow of the Chicago River so that its foul wastes would flow down a canal and into the Illinois and Mississippi rivers, and they were impressed by its ingenuity in creating a new water system to draw lake waters into its tunnels\u2014a feat of engineering genius symbolized by a grand new water tower that rose 138 feet into the sky. They were taken, above all, with the city's sheer energy and vitality.31\n\nA leading promoter of Chicago as the Empire City of the West was General Philip Sheridan, the Civil War hero who now commanded the U.S. Army's Division of the Missouri, with forces deployed as far south as Texas and as far west as Montana. Sheridan, knowing the city's centrality, had moved his divisional headquarters there from St. Louis. He rarely missed a chance to sing Chicago's praises, and he did so in 1870 when he traveled to France at the end of the Franco-Prussian War. When the general met with the German chancellor Otto von Bismarck after his forces defeated the army of Napoleon III, the two men reviewed the conquering troops and the \"Iron Duke\" told Sheridan: \"I wish I could go to America, if only to see that Chicago.\"32\n\nChicago's entrepreneurs and promoters naturally basked in this kind of flattering attention, but some old settlers feared that the city's performance as a moneymaking machine would make it \"a town of mere traders and money getters; crude, unlettered, sharp, and grasping.\" They feared that the civic virtue and sense of community they had cultivated would be lost amid the endless and ruthless competition for gain. The pioneers also worried that city government, fragile as it was, would simply become an arena for the buying and selling of influence.33\n\nMore than any other city in the nation, Chicago came to embody what Mark Twain and others would call the Gilded Age\u2014an age of excess when businessmen accumulated huge fortunes, constructed lavish mansions, exploited the public domain and corrupted public officials. No one captured the spirit of the age better than Walt Whitman, who wrote in 1871 of cities that reeked with \"robbery and scoundrelism.\"34 The nation was like a ship sailing in a dangerous sea of seething currents without a first-class captain. Of all the \"dark undercurrents\" Whitman sensed beneath that sea, none was more dangerous \"than having certain portions of the people set off from the rest like a line drawn\u2014they not as privileged as others, but degraded, humiliated, made of no account.\"35\n\nThe famous poet put aside these fears, however, because he was seized with the hubris of Gilded Age nationalism. For all the danger that lay ahead as the \"labor question\" exposed \"a yawning gulf\" between the classes, it seemed to Whitman \"as if the Almighty had spread before this nation charts of imperial destinies, as dazzling as the sun.\" That sun shone over a people \"making a new history, a history of democracy,\" and that sun was moving west from Whitman's beloved Brooklyn toward Chicago and the vast Pacific. \"In a few years,\" he predicted, \"the dominion heart of America will be far inland toward the West.\" There in that region of \"giant growth\" Americans were fulfilling their destiny as a people. It was an epic era, one of those times, Whitman wrote, when \"[a]ll goes upward and outward, nothing collapses.\" 36\nChapter Three\n\n _We May Not Always Be So Secure_\n\nSEPTEMBER 1870\u2013APRIL 1874\n\nALL DURING THE LATE SUMMER of 1870, as Chicago's economy roared on, readers of the city's dailies had intently followed news of the Franco-Prussian War: first the stunning news of the French army's defeat at Sedan, and then the capture of Napoleon III and the fall of his empire. Chicagoans pondered these events in the Old World with the assurance that their bloody war was behind them and that peace and prosperity now reigned.\n\nIn September all eyes turned to Paris, where citizens rushed to join a democratized National Guard and to defend their city when it fell under siege. When an armistice was signed in January of 1871, Parisians denounced it and crowds marched to the Bastille flying the tricolor and the red flag of the International. Within a month \"a mysterious authority made itself felt in Paris\" as vigilance committees appeared throughout the city. In March, just as the French army seemed ready to restore order, even more sensational news appeared in the dailies: the people of Paris were refusing to surrender their arms. Indeed, when French generals ordered the Parisian National Guard to disarm, the guardsmen turned their guns on their own army generals. Government forces withdrew to Versailles, now the seat of a new provisional government, and on March 28 the citizens of the former capital created an independent Commune of Paris. Americans were utterly fascinated by this news, and the press fed their hunger for information about the momentous event. As a result, the Commune became an even bigger story than the Franco-Prussian War had been.1\n\nWhen the French army laid siege to Paris and hostilities began, the _Chicago Tribune_ 's reporters covered the fighting much as they had during the American Civil War. Indeed, many Americans, notably Republican leaders like Senator Charles Sumner, identified with the citizens of Paris who were fighting to create their own republic against the forces of a corrupt regime whose leaders had surrendered abjectly to the Iron Duke and his Prussian forces.\n\nAs the crisis deepened, however, American newspapers increasingly portrayed the Parisians as communists who confiscated property and as atheists who closed churches.2 The brave citizens of Paris, first described as rugged democrats and true republicans, now seemed more akin to the uncivilized elements that threatened America\u2014the \"savage tribes\" of Indians on the plains and the \"dangerous classes\" of tramps and criminals in the cities. When the Commune's defenses broke down on May 21, 1871, the _Chicago Tribune_ hailed the breach of the city walls. Comparing the Communards to the Comanches who raided the Texas frontier, its editors urged the \"mowing down\" of rebellious Parisians \"without compunction or hesitation.\"3\n\n _La semaine sanglante\u2014_ the week of blood\u2014had begun as regular army troops took the city street by street, executing citizen soldiers of the Parisian National Guard as soon as they surrendered. In retaliation, the Communards killed scores of hostages and burned large sections of the city to the ground. By the time the killing ended, at least 25,000 Parisians, including many unarmed citizens, had been slaughtered by French army troops.4\n\nThese cataclysmic events in France struck Americans as amazing and distressing. The bloody disaster cried out for explanation. In response, a flood of interpretations appeared in the months following the civil war in France. Major illustrated weeklies published lurid drawings of Paris scenes, of buildings gutted by fire, monuments toppled, churches destroyed and citizens executed, including one showing the death of a \" _petroleuse_ \"\u2014a red-capped, bare-breasted woman accused of incendiary acts. Cartoonist Thomas Nast drew a picture of what the Commune would look like in an American city. Instant histories were produced, along with dime novels, short stories, poems and then, later in the fall, theatricals and artistic representations in the form of panoramas.5\n\nNews of the Commune seemed exotic to most Americans, but some commentators wondered if a phenomenon like this could appear in one of their great cities, such as New York or Chicago, where vast hordes of poor immigrants held mysterious views of America and harbored subversive elements in their midst.6 One of these observers, Henry Ward Beecher, the most influential clergyman in the nation, preached a widely reported sermon in which he reviewed the wantonness of the destruction in Paris and likened it to the terrors of the French Revolution. He trusted that the religious faith of Americans would prevent such a godless outbreak in our cities. The nation would be spared the terror that afflicted Paris as long as America remained without an aristocracy, as long as it maintained a free press and offered free education, as long as it was blessed with cheap land for farming; but Beecher also warned his fellow citizens: \"we may not always be so secure.\" He feared that an eruption like the one in Paris might someday occur here if the country stratified itself as European nations had, and if the upper classes did not show more concern for the poor.7\n\nAndrew Cameron devoted a great deal of attention to the Commune and its meaning in his Workingman's Advocate.8 Without comment, he ran in serial form sections of Karl Marx's _Civil War in France,_ a fervid and favorable portrayal of the Communards.9 Cameron did not endorse the revolutionary methods Marx espoused; nor did he excuse the incendiary acts of the Parisian street fighters. He did, however, tell his American readers that the people of the Commune \"fought and fell for the rights you either enjoy or are striving for, _i.e.,_ the right for self-government and the rights of the laborer to the fruits of his toil.\" He concluded by quoting Wendell Phillips, the abolitionist-turned-labor-reformer, who had declared: \"Scratch the surface . . . in every city on the American continent and you will find the causes which created the Commune.\" 10\n\nBY THE TIME summer turned to fall in 1871, discussion of the Commune had disappeared from the press. The talk was all about business, because Chicagoans were enjoying another year of the sort of borrowing and investing, speculating and moneymaking that attracted hordes of newcomers each month. Banks recklessly lent money to entrepreneurs who were seriously depleting the cash reserves they held against liabilities, but business confidence kept rising, and still the city's economy seemed destined to grow relentlessly and to create enough wealth for all. Despite widening class divisions, Chicago's people shared a sense of pride in their thriving city. So many of the city's self-made men had risen from low estate that poor folks could believe that they too would be beneficiaries of Chicago's rapidly expanding wealth.11\n\nIn one night of horror, on October 8, 1871, all these dreams went up in smoke when most of the city burned to the ground in a fierce whirlwind of fire that reduced 17,450 buildings to ashes. The fire started in a miserable slum of wooden shacks around DeKoven Street on the West Side and quickly leapt the Chicago River, devastating the entire downtown business district and most of the North Side up to Lincoln Park. Humble workers' dwellings and marble mansions on the North Side, factories, lumberyards, banks, even City Hall and the _Tribune_ building\u2014all were incinerated by the holocaust. One hundred twenty corpses were found in the vast burned-over district, and many more bodies of missing persons were never recovered. Chicago, \"unequalled before in enterprise and good fortune,\" said one newspaper, was now \"unapproachable in calamity.\"12\n\nAn immense body of literature appeared as writers struggled to make sense of the tragedy. Many survivors said the Great Chicago Fire had created a communal sense of shared suffering in which personal suspicions and social distinctions disappeared and in which the virtues of Christianity and democracy prevailed. Few escaped the suffering, and for a few harrowing days the rich and the poor stood on common ground.13\n\nYet these inspiring stories of people coping together with a great disaster were overshadowed by horror stories of evil demons let loose in the chaos. The _Chicago Evening Post_ said the blaze released \"obscene birds of the night\" from the city's worst districts: villainous men, \"haggard with debauch . . . shameless white men, negroes with stolid faces\" glided through the fleeing masses \"like vultures in search of prey.\" Poor women with tattered dresses, hollow eyes and brazen faces \"moved here and there, stealing . . . and laughing with one another at some particularly 'splendid' gush of flame.\" There were reports of riffraff actually fanning the flames and spreading the fire, and of aroused citizens lynching looters and arsonists. These accounts\u2014all fabricated\u2014fed nascent fears of the outcasts who dwelled deep in the city's bowels among the \"dangerous classes.\"14\n\nWhile some newspapers spread wild rumors about demon arsonists and avenging vigilantes, one editor turned boldly to the task ahead. The day after the fire, Joseph Medill headlined the _Tribune_ with the words CHICAGO MUST RISE AGAIN. This command thrilled the nation and evoked the ethos that made the city great, a symbol of the age. But the bravado of confident city leaders like Medill masked a fear that their city remained vulnerable to another cataclysm.15 Chicagoans could not bring themselves to believe that the devastating holocaust was simply an act of God or a curse of Satan. They suspected that certain human beings within the city itself were responsible, people who refused to live by the Yankee values and Protestant ethics the city's leaders espoused. Unless the best men took action and removed the city's corrupt politicians from the scene, the catastrophe might be followed by thieving, rioting and, something worse, anarchy.16\n\n_A drawing from_ Frank Leslie's Illustrated Newspaper _in which the artist imagines_ _the chaos and social leveling that followed the Chicago fire_\n\nWhile the fire's embers still smoldered, several downtown businessmen hired an ambitious Scottish immigrant named Allan Pinkerton to post armed men as guards around their property. Already well known for his Civil War activity protecting President Lincoln and sending spies behind enemy lines, Pinkerton ordered his guards to shoot any person stealing or attempting to steal. Two days after the event, a larger group of large property owners convinced the Republican mayor to place the city under martial law. The Civil War hero and Indian fighter General Philip Sheridan quickly took charge of militia and regular regiments. The elected police commissioner, an Irish Catholic with a labor constituency, protested this usurpation of his authority, as did the governor of Illinois, who said the mayor's order violated the state's rights, but to no avail. Chicago's ruling elites meant to demonstrate their power and extend their control over the city in this critical period.17\n\nAs prominent Chicagoans acted to discourage any kind of disorder, they speculated endlessly on what caused the fire. The most popular story blamed a poor Irish woman, Mrs. O'Leary, for allowing her cow to kick over a lantern in her barn\u2014a legendary account that placed responsibility on the shoulders of the lower-class immigrants. A. C. Cameron objected to these attempts to blame the main victims of the fire\u2014the working people who were the largest element of the 64,000 people left homeless. Unlike well-connected merchant and professional families, these poor people usually had no friends or relatives to shelter them in the outlying neighborhoods and nearby. The dispossessed stood hunched over in soup lines and gathered around campfires where they boiled fetid water hoping to escape cholera and typhoid. At night they tried to sleep in tents on the charred prairie grounds as packs of dogs and rats hovered around them in the dark.18\n\nOther commentators looked outside Chicago to find the cause of the disaster, which reminded them of the horrible blazes set by the desperate Communards in their last days; they wondered aloud if there was a connection. One imaginative writer suggested that a \"firebird\" had risen out of the Paris ashes and flown over the ocean to deliver a \"scourge upon the queen city of the West.\" The _Chicago Times_ even printed a \"confession\" of a \"Communist incendiary\" who had been sent from Paris by the Communist International to stir up strife between the mechanics of the city and their employers.19\n\n _Tribune_ editor Medill conceded that many people believed communists were \"a secret power\" working to undermine society, but he dismissed this confession as a phony. Furthermore, he explained, Marx's International had been nearly destroyed after the fall of the Commune. In any case, he added, he knew American members of the body, and they included more reformers than incendiaries. \"The crowning evil of all times of tumult and disaster is suspicion,\" Medill opined. The Communist International had become the \"great bugbear of modern times,\" but only timid men relied upon simple explanations for every calamity. Bold men assessed the real causes and set about eliminating them.20\n\nLike other business leaders, the _Tribune_ editor found more mundane but nonetheless troublesome explanations for the Great Fire. The much-despised ward politicians, the \"bummers\" who controlled the city's council of aldermen and its zoning practices, had allowed poor working people to occupy a forest of pine dwellings that provided ample fuel to feed the holocaust.21 Thus, even while he dismissed the rumor that a communist set the fire, Medill indicated that the irresponsible immigrants were to blame for the blaze having leapt across the river from a shantytown and laid waste to the business district.22\n\n_Joseph Medill_\n\nLESS THAN A MONTH after the fire Joseph Medill mounted a reform campaign for mayor, declaring he was \"unalterably opposed from this time forward to the erection of a single wooden building within the limits of Chicago.\" 23 In November of 1871 he won an easy victory on the Union Fireproof Reform ticket. The new mayor promised that the poor would be fed and that the city would be rebuilt safely with fireproof construction.24 Medill's plans to protect the city soon backfired, however. His attack on irresponsible home builders smacked of class prejudice in the minds of middle-class and working-class residents who said they could not afford to build brick homes that cost twice as much as wooden dwellings. As a result, they would be compelled to sell their land to \"greedy land speculators\" at \"ruinous prices.\"25 Their rhetorical response was soon followed, suddenly and unexpectedly, by mass action when a huge crowd composed largely of law-abiding Germans from the North and West sides stormed the Common Council chamber to protest the mayor's reform. The protesters were especially angry because they had worked hard and saved enough money to achieve the highest level of home ownership in the city, higher, in fact, than that of native-born Americans. Appealing to their immigrant aldermen, the foreign-born home owners easily created enough opposition in the Common Council to prevent Medill from banning all low-cost wooden housing.26\n\nBefore the furor over the housing ban died down, immigrant Chicago rose again, almost as one body, to stop another ill-fated reform. In 1873 a Committee of Seventy composed of leading citizens and clergymen convinced Mayor Medill to order the city's thousands of saloons to close on Sunday afternoon, a time when foreign-born workingmen loved to congregate in their favorite public drinking houses.27 As a result, immigrant Chicago was thoroughly aroused. \"Great, suffocating, mass meetings were held in every ward, every precinct,\" wrote one reporter, \"and the Medill administration was everywhere denounced, lampooned, ridiculed, excoriated\" by leaders of a new polyglot People's Party formed entirely for the purpose of removing the haughty Yankee mayor from City Hall.28\n\nIn the November 1873 city elections the new People's Party swept Joseph Medill from office, pulling thousands of new working-class voters to the polls.29 The city's socialists, who emerged from the underground during the protests against City Hall, were suddenly encouraged, believing that they could form a labor party that might win an election in the future. A Swedish socialist said that the election had been a rude awakening for Medill and other people who came to Chicago from New England and had no idea that there was a \"working class among them.\"30\n\nYet, after gaining office, People's Party officials refused to rock the boat. The Common Council not only refrained from raising taxes; the new populist mayor neglected to collect back taxes from delinquent property owners. In a city where property ruled, large landowners, bankers, speculators, merchants and manufacturers effectively blocked any civic measures they regarded as too costly.31\n\nEven though they lost control of City Hall in 1873, Chicago's top businessmen remained confident that the laissez-faire policies they favored would prevail and would restore the city's economic power. Their confidence was rewarded when commercial and industrial activity rebounded, and businesses turned greater profits than they had before the Great Fire. Chicago had conquered disaster in a way that expressed to the London Times the \"concentrated essence of Americanism.\"32\n\nIn this heady atmosphere the specter of the fire-breathing Communards faded. No commune could appear in this gifted city, opined the _Tribune,_ because American workers had no inclination to turn against the rich and powerful. All the typical wage earner wanted or needed was a comfortable home and a larger wage; because these desires could be easily met, it would be impossible for a commune to arise in Chicago.33\n\nTHE CONFIDENCE OF Chicago's leading men held firm even after a financial panic struck in the East during the fall of 1873; and it prevailed when city bankers called in loans they had recklessly made to speculators and entrepreneurs. There was no way of escaping panic, however, when twenty big banks failed, along with nearly all of the city's savings institutions, sweeping away large fortunes and small accounts alike. The business palsy spread further when railroads and factories dismissed employees and slashed wages. New construction, which had raced ahead in the postfire years, slowed to a crawl. And it was clear that the city's miraculous reconstruction period had ended.34\n\nAs conditions worsened during the fall, Chicago's working people looked for food where they could find it, begging for it on the streets or crowding saloons for free lunches. When Thanksgiving arrived, the streets were crowded with tramps, and police station basements were filled every night with homeless wanderers. Still, not a ripple of unrest appeared in this river of dispossessed humanity.\n\nThen, on December 21, 1873, an unexpected event disturbed the calm. On that cold evening more than 5,000 workers squeezed into Vorw\u00e4rts Turner Hall on the West Side for a meeting to demand aid for the unemployed and their hungry families. Organized by German socialists who had formed a workers' association, the meeting featured speakers in English, German, Norwegian, French and Polish; all of them demanded that the city find work for those who were willing and able to labor. Furthermore, the protesters insisted that aid should be provided for the rest from the municipal treasury and that such aid should be distributed by a committee appointed by workers, not by the agents of businessmen who controlled the Chicago Relief and Aid Society, the private charitable association assigned to the task by the mayor when millions of dollars in aid money had poured into the city after the fire.\n\nThe society carefully investigated the lives of job applicants to make sure they were not pretending to be needy. The principle was that benevolence toward the poor should not derive from sympathy or pity, but from a well-considered strategy for reforming the indigent through work. The relief society abided by a simple rule: \"He who does not work does not eat.\"35 When the depression hit two years after the fire, the society, which still retained large sums of fire relief money, became a target of protest.\n\nThose attending the Turner Hall protest meeting on December 21, 1873, demanded that the city recover funds still held by the Relief and Aid Society, whose directors they criticized for allowing rings of speculators to use the money for corrupt purposes while denying it to the distressed and impoverished. The protesters appointed a committee to deliver their demands to City Hall; and, to make a bigger impression, they called for a delegation of unemployed workingmen to accompany their spokesmen. The response to this plea startled all Chicago.\n\nThe next evening 20,000 workingmen of various nationalities assembled and then formed up behind the committee of eight, ready to march downtown. \"The whole working-class population seemed magically to have drawn together,\" wrote the journalist Floyd Dell. \"There appeared to be no leaders, but the men fell into orderly lines; and they marched, sometimes hand in hand, as a funeral procession to city hall.\" Many carried banners that read BREAD OR WORK. To astonished observers the solemn procession looked more like a well-drilled and disciplined military body than a crowd of protesters. This unprecedented march of the unemployed made a huge impression on the city councilmen, composed mostly of immigrant aldermen, and on the mayor, who had been elected as a candidate of the People's Party.36\n\nThe city was \"entirely unprepared for anything of the kind,\" declared Horace White, the liberal Republican who succeeded Medill as editor of the _Tribune._ \"The fraternization of immigrants of different nativities is not often observed in America,\" the editor explained. If they ever united, it would not be \"for love of one another\" but in \"opposition to some common enemy\" and in favor of some attainment that they all want \"but which, divided, they are powerless to obtain.\"37 Even more amazing was the protesters' demand for \"bread or work,\" which struck the city \"like lightning from a clear, blue sky.\" As far as White knew, nothing like this had ever been proposed by Americans. The new coalition of foreign nationalities obviously had some alien, un-American objective in mind, for it was led by men with ideas \"wild and subversive of society itself.\"38\n\nThe unemployed movement's leaders pressed their case for days thereafter, and newspaper editors, previously unaware of the socialists' presence in the city, felt compelled to answer the demands and arguments of the so-called internationals. The _Tribune_ called attention to a particularly dangerous new idea the socialists introduced\u2014\"the right to work.\" If the government provided work for the unemployed, these workingmen would lose any \"inducement to take care of themselves.\" The socialists had been fooled by reading Karl Marx, whose writings had persuaded them to reject what the paper called the \"immutable laws of our political economy.\" In so doing, they were acting like the Mohammedans who rejected Christianity.39\n\nThe city's businessmen refused to debate with the socialists; they were men of action, not men of words, and they were determined to prevent any more intimidating marches of the unemployed, or any repeat of the frightening general strike they experienced in May of 1867. With these concerns in mind, a group of important entrepreneurs gathered the following April to make plans to create their own militia company. These activists included many of the city's top hundred merchants, manufacturers, bankers and lawyers who had earlier formed a Citizens' Association; its leaders now began to raise the first funds needed to arm and outfit a businessmen's militia unit, called the First Regiment of the Illinois National Guard.\n\nThe new association's leaders also prepared to move against the incumbent People's Party, whose officials, including the city's Irish police commissioner, seemed far too sympathetic to the socialist-led demonstrators. The president, a wholesale merchant, declared that an excess of democracy had put \"political power in the hands of the baser part of the community\" and disenfranchised \"the best part.\" The Citizens' Association would provide the organization these \"best men\" needed to take their city back from the bummers of the People's Party, who were branded by the _Chicago Times_ as a bunch of \"pimps, grogshop loafers, communist lazzaroni and other political deadbeats.\"40\n\nThe socialists nursed their own grievances against People's Party officials whose sympathy for the unemployed was not matched with any action. Therefore, socialist leaders decided to create an organization to sustain the movement for public relief and public works. In February of 1874 they founded the Workingmen's Party of Illinois, composed of ten German clubs as well as individual Bohemian, Polish, Irish and Scandinavian clubs. The party then established a German weekly newspaper, _Der Vorbote,_ and put up socialist candidates to challenge the Republican machine in North Town during the spring elections.41\n\nChicago's German socialists maintained links with the International Workingmen's Association, which Karl Marx had directed from London until he and Friedrich Engels decided to move its headquarters to New York in 1872. The International's original stronghold in Paris had been destroyed along with the Commune, and in the aftermath Marx and Engels feared a takeover by anarchists loyal to their rival, the charismatic Russian insurrectionist Mikhail Bakunin.42\n\nIdeological disputes among European Marxists and anarchists meant little in Chicago, however. Local socialists ignored commands from Marx's lieutenants in New York and charted their own course, plunging into electoral politics, opening their ranks to lawyers, saloonkeepers and tradesmen, and welcoming women who had been discouraged by the expulsion of the feminists Victoria Woodhull and Tennessee Claflin from the New York section. When a group of Chicagoans formed an English-speaking section of the International in the spring of 1874, they took on a new name, the International Working People's Association (IWPA), because there were plenty of women who wanted to join.43\n\nThe Internationals canvassed the city's immigrant wards in the spring elections of 1874, but Workingmen's Party candidates failed to loosen the grip the Republicans and Democrats held over different tribes of working-class voters. After the campaign, the German socialists in the party turned away from electoral competition and adopted Karl Marx's strategy of organizing workers: mobilizing the unemployed and building class-conscious trade unions as a basis for future political action.44\n\nMarx's German followers in Chicago could hardly have chosen a worse time to implement such a grand strategy. As the panic deepened, employers laid off thousands of workers and locked out union members when they resisted wage cuts. For instance, the union iron molders at McCormick's Reaper Works struck to protest a drastic reduction in pay and held out for two months, but when the owners refused to negotiate, the strikers gave in and returned to work. The McCormicks, having demonstrated that resistance was futile, promptly slashed wages for workers in the rest of the plant. In the same year the Knights of St. Crispin, the only union to have organized factory workers, suffered a crushing defeat when shoe manufacturers locked them out and replaced them with \"green hands.\" Even well-paid union craftsmen who enjoyed good relations with employers suddenly felt defensive. \"No sooner does a depression in the trade set in than all expressions of friendship with the toiler are forgotten,\" remarked the conservative head of the iron puddlers ' union, the Sons of Vulcan. Meanwhile, the editor of the industry journal _Iron Age_ bluntly explained the situation as he saw it: if employers refused all concessions to unions and forced wages down to the lowest rates, simple workingmen would realize that they had been misled by demagogues and agitators who defied the \"beneficent natural laws of progress and development.\"45\n\nNewspaper editors also defended wage cuts, not just as economic necessities, but as moral instructions to misguided union workers. Employers could now take back everything they had conceded to union employees, said the _New York Times,_ and then \"bring wages down for all time.\" If workers resisted with some \"insane imitations of the miserable class warfare\" afflicting Europe, they should be replaced by men who understood the law of supply and demand. The results of the depression were not all evil, according to the _Chicago Evening Journal._ It would be good if the crisis taught workers \"the folly and danger of trade organizations, strikes and combinations against . . . capital.\"46\n\nStern editorial prescriptions combined with the harsh medicine of layoffs and wage cuts were expected to cure workingmen of the delusions they acquired from socialists and trade unionists. If these remedies failed, more forceful measures should be taken. When the Workingmen's Party organized another march on the Relief and Aid Society, its organizers were intimidated by the appearance of a large armed force of policemen reinforced by the new First Regiment, a unit comprised of militiamen who were largely clerks, bookkeepers and managers of Chicago firms. Frightened by this show of force, unemployed workers stayed off the streets.47 The call to arms issued by the Citizens' Association reassured Chicago's commercial and industrial leaders that the city would soon be back in the firm control of its \"best men.\"\n\nDURING THE SPRING of 1874, Chicagoans could look back on five years of terrible trouble when they had endured more fear and anxiety than other urban dwellers experienced in a lifetime. During that time social tensions had been ratcheted up again and again, creating class antipathies among fellow citizens, common enough in \"miserable\" European cities, but previously unknown to Americans. The middle and upper classes had been frightened by the most violent general strike the nation had experienced, one that led to the worst riots a city had endured after the Civil War. Three years later Chicagoans survived the most catastrophic fire an American city had ever suffered\u2014a disaster that leveled social distinctions and threatened the city with anarchy. After an exhilarating period of recovery and reconstruction, wealthy Chicagoans had been surprised when immigrants stormed City Hall in 1872 to protest the ban on wooden housing and public drinking on Sunday; this riotous behavior was followed late in 1873 by even more disturbing events, when the foreigners in the People's Party won control of city government and when the socialists appeared out of nowhere to mobilize the unemployed and to make unimaginable demands for work and relief. In May of 1874 it appeared the troubles might end: the socialists had been vanquished at the polls, strikers had been put back to work and the unemployed marchers had disappeared from the streets. The police and the militia seemed to be in firm control of the city, and yet, as they faced a second year of depression, few Chicago businessmen felt relaxed.\nChapter Four\n\n _A Liberty-Thirsty People_\n\nMAY 1874 \u2013MARCH 1876\n\nWHILE COLD WEATHER lingered into the spring of 1874, unemployed people thronged the West Side. They looked for free lunches in saloons, surrounded the city's police stations seeking shelter in the night and prowled the factory districts hoping to find the odd job. And despite it all, trains and boats still arrived bringing more job seekers and fortune hunters to Chicago. Among the new arrivals were militant nationalists from Ireland and Poland and, in even greater numbers, socialists from Germany, Bohemia and Scandinavia. Many were admirers of the Paris Commune, and some were willing recruits for the International and its new Workingmen's Party. The _Tribune_ expressed alarm over this influx of political exiles who swore loyalty not to their new nation, but to the Communist International formerly headquartered in London. Its leaders, the paper charged, were secretly manipulating the new socialist party and were \"maturing plans to burn down Chicago and other large cities in the United States.\"1\n\nGiven these anxieties about the arrival of internationalists from European cities, no one noticed the small eddy of former Confederate rebels who made their way to Chicago, and no one would have guessed that one of them would become the most feared agitator in the city.2 He came not from London, but from Waco, Texas, and his name was Albert R. Parsons.\n\nSometime in 1874, Parsons, accompanied by his wife, Lucy, arrived at the old St. Louis Depot wedged between Canal Street and the Chicago River. As they stepped out of the smoking station, the great pounding city would have assaulted their senses: steam engines hissing and clanging behind them in the depot, boat horns bleating on the river, horse-drawn trolleys careening down Canal Street, men shouting at each other to be heard above the unceasing din.\n\nAlbert was a slender young man with a sunburned face and the long mustaches favored by ex-soldiers. Though short in stature, he carried himself with a self-assured bearing. His young wife no doubt attracted the eyes of passersby: Lucy was a stunningly beautiful dark-skinned woman, with high cheekbones that accentuated her prominent brown eyes. She walked with an erect posture and seemed a well-fashioned lady, though she wore clothing of simple cotton she had made into a dress. An interracial couple was an odd sight on the Chicago streets. In the Levee District to the south on Harrison Street, white men consorted with black women in bordellos, but few respectable white men in Chicago were ever seen in public with a woman of color. 3\n\nAlbert Parsons, who was twenty-six years old in 1874, had learned the printing trade in Texas, and possessed a set of valuable skills that made it possible for a typesetter to tramp around the country and find work with relative ease, even during a depression, because every small town had at least one newspaper and the big cities had far more. In 1874 eight dailies were published in Chicago, including the _Times,_ where Parsons found permanent work setting hot type in a building that had survived the fire. He immediately became a member of Typographical Union No. 16, where some old-time union printers had followed Andrew Cameron in his crusade for the eight-hour day and still read his _Workingman's_ Advocate.4\n\nThe legendary publisher and editor of the _Times,_ Wilbur Storey, was a cranky, fiercely independent man who loved controversy. He became notorious during the Civil War as a \"copperhead\" Democrat who hated Lincoln and his draft, and who defiantly locked out Andy Cameron and his union printers in 1863. Storey was also a pioneer of modern big-city journalism, whose daily paper covered national and world politics in minute detail while featuring gruesome reports of murder, rape and mutilation. Public hangings created the most exciting news of all. For instance, in 1875, when four murderers repented their sins on the gallows, the Times headline read JERKED TO JESUS.5\n\nStorey believed city people were on their own in a world where fear and disorder ruled. If workingmen were unemployed, they deserved nothing from the city, and if their demonstrations turned violent, they deserved to be put down with force such as the French army used against the communists in Paris. Rejecting all public solutions to the problems of the poor, Storey called instead for a \"dismantling of city government.\"6\n\nIn his first months as a typesetter at the _Times,_ Albert Parsons took a special interest in the heated public debate over the use of fire relief funds. He read the words of critics who charged the Relief and Aid Society with misusing its funds and denying them to the needy, and he read the furious editorials of Wilbur Storey, who dismissed the critics as \"communists, robbers, loafers.\" Intrigued by the controversy, Parsons decided to investigate the matter. After studying the case, he concluded that the complaints against the Relief and Aid Society were \"just and proper.\" Indeed, as the depression deepened during the hard winter of 1875, Parsons saw that the Chicago socialists were the only people who dared to protest on the behalf of the unemployed or to propose public remedies for their plight. The radicals' protests, and the abuse heaped upon the \"communists\" by the \"organs of the rich,\" convinced him that \"there was a great fundamental wrong at work in society.\"7\n\nAlbert Parsons had been born in Montgomery, Alabama, in 1848 to Yankee parents who died when he was a boy. He was cared for by a slave woman he called Aunt Ester until his older brother William brought him to Texas. There the youngster enjoyed an adventurous youth on a ranch in the Brazos River valley, where he learned to ride and to shoot from the saddle. His brother, a wealthy, influential landowner, sent Albert to school in Waco and then to Galveston, where he served as an apprentice \"printer's devil\" in a newspaper office until the War for Southern Independence captured his soul.8\n\n_Socialist-led march on Relief and Aid Society headquarters on LaSalle Street, 1875_\n\nAt age fifteen Albert talked his way into a famous company of cavalry scouts commanded by his brother. He saw action in battles along the Mississippi against federal troops and fought in one of the last skirmishes of the war, which occurred just before the news of Appomattox reached rebel units in the Southwest. After the fighting ended, Albert returned to his home county in East Texas and traded a mule he owned for 40 acres of corn in a field that was ready for harvest. He hired two freed slaves and paid them the first wages they had ever earned to bring in the crop. He used the rest of his earnings to enroll at a college in Waco and then found work practicing his trade as a printer in a local newspaper office.9\n\nThe columns Parsons set in type in the first years after the war carried news of stunning events in the Lone Star State. The first provisional governor found Texas in a state of anarchy, and in the worst condition of all the Confederate states because of the white population's unrelenting hostility to the federal government and its policies. Federal officials reported that \"Union men and Negroes were fleeing for their lives and that murders and outrages on Negroes were on the rise, and that the criminals were always acquitted.\"10\n\nIn the midst of the white terror in Texas, Parsons started a little newspaper in Waco he called the _Spectator,_ and, much to the amazement of his friends and neighbors, he used it to advocate for \"the political rights of the colored people.\" The daring editor explained years later that he had been influenced in taking this step by the respect and love he had for the slave woman who raised him. In any case, Parsons became a Republican partisan and a supporter of federal reconstruction policies in Texas. It was an audacious stance for a Confederate veteran to take, and it earned him the hatred of his former army comrades, who stigmatized Parsons as a \"scalawag\"\u2014a white southerner who betrayed his race. Displaying a boldness he had shown as a volunteer in the rebel army, the twenty-year-old veteran took to the campaign stump to vindicate his convictions. As a result, he was completely ostracized by his friends and associates and barred from shelter and lodging in white men's houses on the campaign trail.11\n\nParsons had picked a dangerous spot to start his political career. Waco was the county seat of McLennan County, the most violent place in Texas. When the county was protected by federal troops, several blacks were elected to the legislature, but soon Republican officeholders and Freedman's Bureau officials found themselves overwhelmed by the forces of terror.12\n\nNonetheless, during the fall of 1869 Parsons rode through East Texas campaigning for the interracial Republican Party. It was an unforgettable experience, \"full of excitement and danger.\" Many years later Parsons wrote to a comrade of those days of bitterness and the hostility filled with attacks by the Ku Klux Klan and reprisals from blacks. \"On horseback, over prairie, or through the swamps of the Brazos River, accompanied generally by one or two intelligent colored men, we traveled,\" he wrote in a memoir. \"At noontime or nightfall our fare was only such as could be had in the rude and poverty stricken huts of the colored people.\" When night fell, former slaves from nearby plantations would gather in a field to hear young Mr. Parsons speak. There, amid the rows of slave huts, he would mount a wagon or a bale of cotton and, by the faint glow of a tallow tip, harangue the hundreds assembled around him.13\n\nAfter the campaign, Parsons volunteered to become a militiaman, as his Connecticut Yankee grandfather, Samuel, had been in 1775. He saw plenty of action, including a standoff in one county seat, where he led twenty-five militiamen in defense of black men's right to vote, \"a most warlike and dangerous undertaking.\" His career as a Radical Republican had begun in earnest.14 However, he became so \"odious\" to the local whites that he had to shut down his unionist newspaper in Waco. Instead, Parsons found work as a traveling reporter and salesman for a Houston newspaper.\n\nOn one long trip for the paper, he returned to Johnson County, where he had spent his adventurous boyhood along the Brazos. He wrote later of stopping at a ranch on Buffalo Creek owned by a Mexican rancher named Gonzales and meeting the owner's beautiful niece, Lucy. He lingered and then left the ranch reluctantly, only to return and ask her to be his wife. She agreed, and they were wed at Austin in 1872.15\n\nThis was the story Albert and Lucy told of their union when they arrived in Chicago, but they invented some of it. Lucy identified herself as the daughter of John Waller, a \"civilized\" Creek Indian, and a Mexican woman named Marie del Gather, and denied any African ancestry, even though most people who met her assumed she was black. It is possible that Lucy did descend from Native American and Mexican people, but there is no direct evidence of this, or of a Hispanic uncle who raised her on a ranch. Lucy's biographer speculates that she was probably born a slave on the plantation of James and Philip Gathings, who owned more than sixty slaves, and that she may have been the daughter of one of the owners. Other evidence suggests that Lucy may have lived for a while with a slave from that plantation named Oliver Gathings (and this is perhaps why she might have invented the name \"del Gather\" for her mother). When newspapers began to pay attention to Lucy's activities, reporters described her as \"colored\" (or \"bright colored\"), indicating, as the _Chicago Tribune_ suggested, that Lucy, despite her denials, had \"at least one negro parent.\"16\n\nAlbert and Lucy probably met not on a Johnson County ranch, but in the contested terrain of nearby McLennan County, where Albert had become a hero to newly emancipated blacks and where a local newspaper later reported that Lucy was well known. There is no evidence to confirm young Lucy's whereabouts during slavery days or during the events of Reconstruction, but she later recalled knowing of the atrocities committed by white terrorists against emancipated blacks in Texas.17 Lucy's family history and that of her earlier years will remain forever clouded; it is clear, however, that she chose to deny any African ancestry and to identify herself with what she saw as two proud peoples who had escaped slavery and resisted the European \"invader.\" 18 In any case, Albert found in her the perfect mate, bold and beautiful, as fearless and righteous as he was. Friends and foes agreed that this man and woman of such different physical complexions and social backgrounds exuded a passion for each other rarely seen in married couples of their era.\n\nBy 1872, the year the Parsons said they were wed in Austin, Albert had not only won the trust of emancipated blacks in East Texas, he had earned the admiration of his fellow Republicans in Austin. These officials helped this fearless, articulate young southerner win a federal appointment as a revenue inspector. If Reconstruction had endured in Texas, Albert Parsons might have gone far in state politics. This was not to be, because in the summer of 1873 the Democratic Party, armed with the guns and the votes it needed, \"redeemed\" Texas from the black officials and their scalawag allies.19\n\nAfter the Democrats returned to power in Texas and restored white rule by brute force, Parsons resigned as a federal revenue official and revived his career as a newspaperman. In that role he joined a group of editors on a trip through the Midwest sponsored by the Missouri, Kansas & Texas Railway, no doubt to promote trade and train travel between the regions. During the trip, the Texan saw Chicago for the first time. He was impressed, as everyone was, by this booming city that had gloriously risen from its ashes. When he returned to Texas, Albert persuaded Lucy to come with him to start a new life in the big city up north.\n\nParsons's Republican Party career in Texas meant nothing in Chicago; there would be no federal appointment there. His skills as a typographer stood him in good stead, and so with modest prospects he and Lucy began the search for lodgings all newcomers faced. They found a small flat on Mohawk Street north of the downtown, where three-quarters of the residents had been born in Germany. The young interracial couple experienced some hostility, but they chose to remain on the North Side, a place where almost everyone was from somewhere else.20\n\nDURING THE 1870S, Chicago's overall population growth raced ahead of all other large American cities because young men like Parsons flocked there from the South as well as from the East, but mostly because 60,000 Europeans flooded the city, their numbers reaching a total of 204,859 by 1880. At that point, foreigners constituted 40 percent of the overall population and 56 percent of the workforce. By far the largest number of these newcomers\u2014163,482\u2014came from the German Empire.21\n\nImmigration from Germany to Chicago before 1860 originated mainly from the southern provinces of Bavaria, Baden, Hesse and W\u00fcrttemberg. Many of these newcomers were traditional Catholics from peasant and small-town backgrounds who were drawn into the ranks of the Democratic Party. This influx also included many talented, educated people who had been engaged in the skilled trades and professions, including a few thousand German Jews and political exiles who had mounted the barricades in the failed revolution of 1848. Many of these immigrants broke with the Democrats in the 1850s and became active in the antislavery movement and in the formation of the Republican Party. Chicago German workers formed an Old World society ( _Arbeiterverein_ ) during these years to provide for their health and welfare; and, before long, they deployed it in New World campaigns to elect Abraham Lincoln president in 1860, to raise troops for his army, to agitate for the total emancipation of slaves and to call for universal military conscription, because, as one German put it, the \"patricians of Michigan Avenue\" thought their sons could evade the hardships of military life, and that \"only the sons of plebeians\" were fit and \"worthy to be slaughtered.\" 22\n\nAfter the Civil War, a new group of Germans migrated from the Prussian provinces that stretched east of Berlin beyond the Oder River as far as the Vistula: these were mainly peasants from large families whose incomes had been devastated when cheaper imported grain flooded the European markets. Soon after arriving in Chicago, they were sucked into the city's jobs machine\u2014the men into the construction projects, factories, foundries and packinghouses and the young women into cigar shops, garment lofts and the servant quarters of well-to-do American families. During the 1870s the number of Germans in the city's labor force grew to 40,000. They congregated on the North Side close to the grain elevators, lumberyards and furniture shops along the river, the tanneries and rolling mills on Goose Island, and the breweries, bakeries and clothing shops that dotted the area.23\n\nThe new wave of German arrivals also carried with it a few highly literate young immigrants with idealistic beliefs and great aspirations. Augustus Vincent Theodore Spies was among them. A well-tutored youth of seventeen, Spies left his home in Landeck, Germany, in 1872. By the time he arrived in New York City, he had already read deeply in German history; it told the story of a people with a \"rebellious spirit,\" a \"liberty-thirsty people\" who rejected the pessimistic religion of the Roman Catholic Church after Martin Luther set off \"a mighty wave of Reformation\" from the town of Wartburg, a place the young Spies could see from his mountain home.24\n\nOnce in New York, Spies quickly found a situation in a German-owned upholstery shop, where he learned the trade and then joined the wandering mass of young immigrants traveling the rails looking for their best chance. He tried farming but found it discouraging, and so he returned to shop work. Living in the mountains of Germany, Spies had little contact with wage earners, and he was puzzled by the ones he met on his American travels. They seemed to be slaves to work, powerless to resist the \"arbitrary behavior of their bosses.\" Spies was dismayed by their \"lack of manhood\" and by their refusal to protest harsh treatment. He wondered why workers were \"so servile,\" so willing to suffer silently from the \"humiliating dictates\" of their employers.25\n\nLike so many wandering young Germans, Spies found himself pulled to Chicago, the vibrant capital of Teutonic life in America. His education, ambition, verbal facility and dashing good looks made it relatively easy for him to make a living in his new home, even during that grim first winter after the panic, when thousands of jobless men and homeless wanderers passed through Chicago looking for work, begging for bread and searching for shelter from the brutal cold. Unlike the subservient laborers he met on the road, Spies remained an independent man and was, he proudly recalled, never \"put upon.\" His training as an upholsterer allowed him to fit into an emerging sector of Chicago manufacturing: the furniture business. Drawing on the vast hardwood forests of Michigan and Wisconsin, craftsmen turned cherry, oak and maple planks into chairs, tables, cabinets and church pews as well as pianos and organs that filled thousands of homes, offices and hotels in the Midwest and the great West beyond. When August Spies arrived in Chicago to ply his trade, 150 furniture factories employed more than 4,000 workers, while several hundred more skilled hands toiled in 19 upholstery shops like the one in which the ambitious young German found employment. 26\n\nSpies joined a large community of Germans who settled on the North Side, which they made into their own town, erecting Catholic and Lutheran churches, opening hundreds of saloons and stores and then naming streets, parks, clubs and businesses after renowned German poets, composers and artists. To the west, Milwaukee Avenue ran out toward Wicker Park, a settlement for prosperous Germans on the Northwest Side\u2014a thirty-minute ride on an omnibus of the Citizens' Line. Along Milwaukee Avenue lived even more Germans, together with a large concentration of Swedes. There were scores of groceries, butcher shops, bakeries and tobacco stores as well as more than 100 saloons and beer gardens where Germans congregated to sing and talk. Some of these places, like Thalia Hall on Milwaukee Avenue, offered workingmen free lunches with \"union beer\" and back rooms for their organizational meetings. 27\n\nChicago's Germans created a profusion of societies to satisfy their desire to congregate, celebrate and help one another. Mutual-aid societies such as the German Society for the Protection of Immigrants and the Friendless, and the Workers Association, meant that newcomers need not rely upon American charities for relief.28 The Turner Society (Turnverein) erected numerous halls for gymnastic activities that also provided meeting places for all sorts of groups and served as venues for balls and concerts. The impressive Aurora Turner Hall on Milwaukee Avenue was the most important German cultural center in the city.29\n\nAn enthusiastic gymnast, Spies reveled in activity at the Aurora. A well-proportioned young man of twenty, Spies kept himself in excellent shape, even though he drank several schooners of lager beer each day. Blue-eyed, of light complexion, he had a high forehead and sharp features.\n\n_Thalia Hall on Chicago's Milwaukee Avenue_\n\nHis hair, light auburn in color, was well coiffed, his long mustachios fashionably curved. He loved dancing at the Saturday balls and was well known around North Town as an attractive bachelor and a \"ladies' man.\" 30 Everything about him indicated that August Spies was a young man who would make good in Chicago just as so many of his gregarious and hardworking countrymen had done.\n\nThe Turners epitomized the rich tradition of associational life Germans brought from the old country to Chicago, where they created a sphere of life outside the workaday world of established structures and institutions. Unlike Americans, who thought the special nature of women's feelings made the world of men's entertainment offensive, Germans welcomed women into the realm of festivity because they were seen as having a special gift for expressing their feelings.31 On Fridays and Saturdays men and women flocked to music and concert halls where brass bands and full orchestras played. On other nights they could be found at numerous clubs devoted to song, band music and dramatics, places where they performed for their own pleasure. 32\n\nBecause all aspects of German working-class culture involved performance, many forms of theater flourished in immigrant neighborhoods, where groups of amateurs enacted folk dramas, which offered up stories of the heroic common man, as well as comedies and farces, which provoked laughter. In some midwestern cities strict Protestants opposed the German theater with its libertine characters and profane Sunday performances, but it flourished in Chicago.33 Like many of his country folk, August Spies adored the theater and yearned to display his own flair for the dramatic.\n\nThe city's large Scandinavian population came together in similar ways. By 1880 more immigrants from Denmark, Norway and Sweden lived in Chicago\u2014nearly 26,000 people\u2014than the combined total of Scandinavians in all other large American cities. Norwegians labored as lake sailors and shipbuilders, while the Danes and Swedes gravitated to trades such as house carpentry and cabinetmaking. Immigrants from the three Nordic nations created a vibrant cultural life for themselves, forming singing clubs, a Scandinavian Free Thinkers Society, Turner lodges and dramatic clubs.34\n\nScandinavians usually learned English readily, registered to vote, read American newspapers, sent their children to public schools and expressed a devotion to their new homeland. They appeared to be easily Americanized, but this perception deceived many casual observers. What is \"this Americanization process we hear so much about?\" asked the editor of the _Svenska Tribune._ \"Did it mean shedding one's cultural identity like a snake skin?\" No, he declared, it meant that in America \"one could become more elastic\" and \"learn to view a matter from several angles.\" 35\n\nThe Scandinavians, like the Germans, wanted to become Americans on their own terms, not those dictated by the city's native-born elites who thought their festivals overly expensive and ostentatious. Some Americans even suspected that immigrant parades on the Fourth of July were intended less to inspire loyalty to the United States than to re-create the joyful sociability common to the Old World.\n\nScandinavians from different lands and Germans from various states created new, broader ethnic identities for themselves in Chicago. One mass meeting at Aurora Turner Hall was held by all Scandinavian groups to \"encourage greater cooperation and agreement among Nordic sister peoples in this place.\" On another occasion, these groups turned Norwegian Independence Day into an all-Scandinavian event, decorating Milwaukee Avenue with Norwegian, Danish, Swedish and American flags. The Germans also forged new kinds of ethnic solidarity in Chicago, overcoming deep provincial and religious differences, especially when they celebrated Germany's victory over France in 1870.\n\nDuring the two decades that followed, a time when the nationalist fervor aroused by the Civil War faded, immigrants in these huge Scandinavian and German domains expressed multiple ethnic and patriotic loyalties and began to work out their own versions of American nationalism at their own pace. 36 In any case, while effusive demonstrations of American nationalism took place principally on July 4, immigrant expressions of sociability, festivity and fraternity took place nearly every weekend in Chicago's Turner halls and saloons, and, from May to October, in the city's various groves and beer gardens\u2014attracting Scandinavians of all nations as well as huge, passionate crowds of Germans from every part of their homeland.37\n\nTHE JOYOUS CONSUMPTION of beer and wine at these immigrant celebrations raised deep concerns among the city's Yankee elites, who were for the most part staunch advocates of temperance. The immigrant mob that intimidated the Common Council to protest the closing of saloons on Sunday afternoons steeled the city's moralists in their determination to recapture City Hall from the rebellious immigrant tribes who constituted the People's Party in 1873. Powerful businessmen and their temperance allies called for a referendum to hold a new election rather than allow the People's Party administration to serve a full term. Court challenges followed, a crisis ensued, and for a brief time the city had two mayors. Eventually the \"best men\" prevailed, and the People's Party disintegrated.38\n\n_German Turner gymnasium in Chicago in the mid-1880s_\n\nMeanwhile, the city elites acted on their fear that the Chicago Police Department was undermanned, corrupted by saloonkeepers and gamblers, and filled with Irish immigrants who cared little about protecting wealthy Yankees and their property. They not only formed their own militia regiment, they also pressured City Hall to appoint a police superintendent who would ensure that the officers in his department faithfully performed their duties. 39\n\nThis show of force confirmed the German socialists' fear that the city's top businessmen would stop at nothing to suppress protest and to protect their own interests, even if it meant forming private armed forces outside the boundaries of republican government. In reaction, German workers created their own militia company, the Lehr und Wehr Verein, aimed at mobilizing laboring men for the purpose of defending themselves and preparing to take on the militia created by the business elites.40\n\nIn the following months, energetic fund-raising in ethnic communities and in the ranks of the Workingmen's Party enabled officers of the Lehr und Wehr Verein to order rifles and the kind of colorful uniforms favored by volunteer militia in the Civil War. The soldiers were outfitted in blue blouses, white linen pants for the summer, red sashes and black Sheridan hats, made fashionable by the dashing Union general who now resided in Chicago. Volunteers sang while they drilled in order to spread _Gem\u00fctlichkeit_ and to create a festive mood at the drills, which often included political rallies as well as band music, dancing and copious beer drinking.41\n\nBy the end of 1875 the city's small band of predominantly German socialists exerted a political presence in Chicago by stirring up a heated debate over public relief, organizing massive parades to demand bread or work and responding militantly when businessmen created their own militia. In the process the socialists attracted the attention of many newcomers searching to find their way in the great city.\n\nAugust Spies, for example, made contact with the socialists about this time when his curiosity drew him to a lecture delivered by a young mechanic. While unimpressive from a theoretical standpoint, the socialist speaker nonetheless moved Spies with what he said about how wage earners experienced work under capitalism. A voracious reader since early childhood, Spies devoured every piece of literature he could find on the \"social question.\" He had already studied the classic Greek poets, philosophers and historians, as well the modern German ones. He admired the \"great thinkers,\" Schiller and Goethe, and he cherished the revolutionary ideas of liberty, equality and fraternity spread by Napoleon; but until he came to Chicago, Spies had not read the works of Karl Marx.42\n\nLike Spies, Albert Parsons had been drawn into socialist meetings, which attracted larger and larger audiences as the depression lengthened. The young printer was impressed by the criticisms the internationalists made of the private relief effort, as well by their proposals to create public works; and he was appalled by attacks made upon them by his own employer, Wilbur Storey, who abused advocates of the poor in ways that reminded him of the attacks made by the southern slaveholders upon newly enfranchised blacks. Storey's Republican rival, Joseph Medill, was equally outrageous, in Parsons's view, when he falsely accused the socialists of planning to burn down the city and warned: \"Every lamp post in Chicago will be decorated with a communist carcass, if necessary, to prevent whole sale incendiarism.\" When Medill predicted the return of vigilante justice, he reminded Parsons of how the Ku Klux Klan treated the Radical Republicans who sought to defend the rights of poor black citizens during Reconstruction. Years later, the young man who left Texas as a Republican would recall that his conversion to socialism was accelerated by the words of Chicago editors who recommended throwing hand grenades into the ranks of striking sailors and putting arsenic in the food distributed to tramps.43\n\nThe most decisive moment in Albert Parsons's political transformation came in March of 1876, when the charismatic socialist Peter J. McGuire came to speak in Chicago. Born of Irish parents in New York's Hell's Kitchen, McGuire was converted to a passionate brand of radicalism when police attacked a peaceful demonstration of the unemployed at Tompkins Square two years earlier. He then embarked on a career that would make him the most effective socialist agitator and union organizer of the late nineteenth century. McGuire, a captivating orator, told his Chicago audience of the socialist program of the Workingmen's Party of America and how it would lead to the creation of a cooperative commonwealth to replace monopoly capitalism. When the speaker finished, Parsons sharply questioned him. Would such a communistic society, he asked, become a \"loafer's paradise\" in which the \"parasite\" would live \"at the expense of the industrious worker\"? McGuire responded that under the socialist system there would be true freedom of opportunity in which individual producers would receive the full product of their efforts, depending on time and energy expended. Parsons was satisfied. He signed up with McGuire's party, along with several other workers, including a cooper named George Schilling, who would become his friend and comrade in the struggles ahead.44\n\nSchilling had arrived in the city shortly after Parsons, at a time when the depression was at its worst. He had been born in Germany to parents of peasant stock and was raised in Ohio. When he was still a teenager, Schilling began to wander, taking work on the railroad that lasted until he reached Chicago in 1875. Despite depressed conditions, Schilling found a job making barrels at a meatpacking company near the Union Stock Yards. An engaging, persuasive man with a jolly personality, the little cooper would become Parsons's best friend in the movement and would remain loyal to him even when they parted political company. Parsons and Schilling, bursting with confidence and conviction, traversed the city together speaking for Pete McGuire's new Social Democratic Workingmen's Party in front of small crowds of workers on dusty street corners and in the noisy back rooms of beer halls whose rental sometimes cost them their last nickel.45\n\nGeorge Schilling, who played Boswell to Parsons's Johnson, was immediately struck by the Texan's gifts as an orator. Now in his late twenties, Parsons was already a practiced public speaker, well trained by his risky campaigns to defend the rights of emancipated blacks in Reconstruction Texas. He spoke in a sonorous voice with enough volume to carry in open-air meetings and enough energy to last for the length of one- and two-hour orations. He gesticulated, and articulated his words like an actor, stringing them together like musical notes. A witty man, he loved to poke fun at the rich and powerful, drawing instinctively on a southwestern brand of humor that could evoke subversive laughter.46\n\nParsons was the first socialist orator who attracted English-speaking audiences in Chicago and the first American speaker to appeal to Germans, Swedes and other immigrants. He also gained the attention of police detectives and newspaper editors, including one who denounced him as a Texas rebel, one of \"a parcel of blatant Communist demagogues\" doing the work of \"the Commune.\" Parsons raged over these new assaults, but he was already accustomed to being notorious, and so he also found the hostile publicity energizing: he said it only added to his zeal for \"the great work of social redemption.\"47\nChapter Five\n\n _The Inevitable Uprising_\n\nAPRIL 1876\u2013AUGUST 1877\n\nIN THE SPRING OF 1876, after Chicago's third punishing winter of depression, socialist agitators took to the streets all over the North and West sides. Every week they called workers to meetings to hear German and Czech speakers and their American spellbinder, Albert Parsons. Their activity was little more than an irritation to Chicago's men of power, who had vanquished the upstart People's Party and sent its immigrant leaders back to their neighborhoods. City government was once again in what they considered safe hands, and business activity was picking up. There was plenty of money on the streets of Chicago, and no one was paying much attention to socialist \"calamity howlers.\"\n\nOne prominent Chicagoan felt uneasy, however. Former mayor Joseph Medill put his ear to the ground that summer and heard troubling rumbles of discontent. Back in charge of the _Tribune,_ the publisher saw a city swarming with tramps and brimming with danger. As one journalist recalled a decade later, \"The lumberyards, vacant buildings, sheds, railroad depots and all public places were thronged with idlers; crime of all kinds was on the increase; it was dangerous to venture out after dark; people were sandbagged, garroted or 'held up' on some of the leading streets.\" The Chicago police made more than 27,000 arrests in 1876, including many among what the police superintendent labeled a \"dangerous class of vagrants called 'tramps' who would prefer to beg or steal than to work.\" However, these arrests did little to increase citizens' confidence in the police department, whose former superintendent had been jailed on corruption charges. Indeed, citizens looked upon \"the average blue coat as a barnacle and nuisance\" and only tolerated him because they could not figure out how to get on without him.1\n\nIn this atmosphere nervous businessmen hired private guards to protect their property and bought guns to protect themselves. The Western Gun Works offered a solution: a new lightweight, silver-plated pistol made of the best English steel with a rifled barrel. The .22-caliber weapon, with deadly accuracy and long range, could be purchased along with a month's supply of 100 cartridges for only $3. The gun was advertised as a \"TRAMPS TERROR,\" valuable to bankers and policemen (who bought their own firearms), but also good for household use at a time when \"Tramps, Burglars and Thieves Infest[ed] Every Part of the Country.\"2\n\nDespite this \"tramp menace,\" Chicago's prosperous citizens enjoyed themselves during the summer of 1876, promenading on the lakefront, spending a day at the races or a night at one of the opera houses and flocking downtown to celebrate the nation's centennial on streets the merchants had decked with American flags. Businessmen and workingmen congregated in their clubs and saloons and talked of baseball and their White Stockings team led by the incomparable Albert G. Spalding, who had been wooed away from the Boston club and was now playing and managing a team of nine players destined to win the National League pennant.3\n\nAmid all this hoopla, Medill cautioned the prosperous readers of his _Tribune_ to avoid ostentatious displays of wealth during these mean times. The publisher, who cared deeply about the quality of life in his city, loathed Irish ward heelers and saloonkeepers, gamblers and socialist rabble-rousers, but he knew \"honest poverty\" when he saw it. Hardworking men, unemployed through no fault of their own, deserved the respect and understanding of more fortunate Chicagoans, not their contempt. While the city enjoyed a lavish centennial celebration on July 4, Medill anguished over the future of the nation, \"great in all the powers of a vast empire,\" but \"weak and poor in social morality as compared with one hundred years ago.\"4\n\nMEDILL'S FEARS WERE JUSTIFIED. Within the city's huge, largely invisible community of immigrant working people, embers of anger and frustration smoldered that summer. They flashed red-hot in one particular district on the Southwest Side, a dense settlement of pine shanties, saloons and little stores just above the South Branch of the Chicago River. This dismal-looking neighborhood called Pilsen contained a swelling population of Czechs; it was, in fact, the largest Bohemian community in America, greater in size than that of any city in Bohemia except Prague. Thousands of former Czech peasants toiled in nearby lumberyards, where they hauled and shoved lumber for $1.50 a day\u2014a meager wage when contrasted with the earnings of the Irish dockworkers, who earned twice that, or locomotive engineers, who took home four times that amount.5\n\nThe massive Bohemian migration to Chicago also swept along a few artists, intellectuals and skilled workers from Prague. Among these literate Bohemians, a large sprinkling of \"free thinkers\" with socialist sympathies carried with them strong antipathies to the Roman Catholic Church. Dedicated nationalists, these young Czechs revered Jan Hus, who led his people in revolt against the domination of the church and helped make Bohemia the first Protestant nation in Europe.6 These immigrants also clung to their cultural, social and linguistic heritage with \"a tenacity that resisted easy Americanization.\" They created an array of benevolent societies based on similar institutions they had known in Bohemian cities and villages, and established Czech-language schools and publications as well as the first Czech socialist newspaper in the United States. Prokop Hudek, the most prominent of these Bohemian socialists, had come to Chicago before the Civil War, in which he fought as a Union army officer. After the war Hudek became commander of the Bohemian Sharpshooters, a local militia unit, and helped found the Workingmen's Party of Illinois in 1874.7\n\nFreethinkers in Pilsen included socialists like Hudek, as well as atheists, agnostics and worshipers of Thomas Paine, the rationalist, and Thomas Jefferson, the deist, in addition to devotees of Illinois' famous freethinker Colonel Robert Ingersoll. Most were raised Protestant, but some were Catholics who did not attend mass regularly or accept the authority of the church hierarchy over parish affairs. Indeed, tension escalated in little Bohemia between the Catholic clergy and the members of free-thought societies because priests refused to wed freethinkers, baptize their children or bury their dead. Then, in 1876, a single event released the tension. When a Catholic priest denied a church burial to a Czech woman because she did not confess on her deathbed, a wave of anger swept the community, followed by an exodus from the church, as hundreds of people in Pilsen abandoned Catholicism and joined free-thought societies.8\n\nDespite their poverty and their internal conflicts, the Czechs caused no trouble for the city's employers or public officials until the summer of 1875, when thousands of Bohemians toiling in the sizzling lumberyards struck to demand a living wage. Their protest ended quickly and peacefully, seeming to be little more than a brief outburst of frustration, but the following spring came the storm. When lumberyard owners cut the wages of common laborers from $1.50 to $1.25 a day, the Bohemians reacted to the blow as a community.9 Thousands of lumber shovers left the yards en masse. When they were replaced by unemployed Irish workers from across the river, the strikers attacked the interlopers, and street warfare raged through the Southwest Side until wagonloads of police finally arrived and drove the Czechs off the streets.10\n\nMedill's _Tribune_ devoted three days of coverage to the \"serious troubles in the Bohemian lumber district,\" but few of its readers would have paid any attention to the riots in a depressing river district no Americans visited other than salesmen, vessel men and policemen. A reporter for the _Chicago Daily News_ looked back on this time a decade later and realized that the city's leading men had blinded themselves to the anger seething in the lumberyards and alleys of Pilsen, where workingmen had suffered intolerable wage cuts and feared more to come. When these men struck, they always failed and were forced to return to work for less pay than they were getting before they went out. \"There were ten pairs of hands ready and willing to take the place of every single pair of hands that quit,\" the reporter noted. With their families on the edge of starvation, the workingmen were being driven to desperation. 11\n\n_Chicago's lumberyard district near Pilsen_\n\nIf city leaders seemed unconcerned about the discontent seething in Pilsen, they were quite aware of the city's burgeoning radical movement, one that seemed to \"grow luxuriantly in well-prepared soil.\" Socialist societies flourished in many poor quarters of the city, and their meetings filled Market Street, the Haymarket and a lakeshore park. Everyone in Chicago knew that it would take only one bolt of lightning to set off a thunderstorm of protest: \"Everybody knew that,\" recalled the journalist John Flinn. \"The businessman knew it, the 'Prominent Citizen' knew it, the mayor knew it. The superintendent of police knew it.\" And yet they did nothing to prepare for the coming storm.12\n\nTHE SOCIALISTS WERE indeed busy cultivating their party that spring. They nominated their best English-speaking activist, Albert Parsons, to run for City Council on the North Side. He and his wife, Lucy, had found larger quarters there, on Larrabee Street, thanks to his steady work in the _Times_ composition room and her earnings as a dressmaker. It was during his run for office on the North Side in the spring of 1877 that Parsons met large numbers of German socialists, including the ambitious August Spies, who had by now worked his way out of wage labor as an upholsterer.13\n\nSpies opened his own upholstery business in a little shop and brought over from Germany his mother, sister and three brothers. They lived together in a small town house near Wicker Park, some distance out on Milwaukee Avenue in a new development where well-to-do German businessmen and professionals were building comfortable but unpretentious brick homes. Acting on his growing interest in socialism, Spies agreed to take to the hustings for the new social democratic Workingmen's Party. During the campaign he frequented the scores of saloons and beer gardens along Milwaukee Avenue, talking with other German tradesmen and laborers about the political events of the day: the disputed Hayes-Tilden presidential contest, which Democrats called the \"stolen election of 1876,\" and the compromise that gave the White House to the Republicans and ended military reconstruction in the South; the crisis in Chicago's City Hall, where two mayors sat for a time; and the conviction of the city's top German Republican politicians in the sensational \"whiskey ring\" scandal.14\n\nIn this unsettled political climate, the socialists' most promising candidate was the party's eloquent American orator, Albert Parsons, who made speech after speech about the rotten state of affairs in the Republic. The cocky young Texan with a sharp tongue captivated his new German comrades, who worked like beavers for his campaign. When he polled 400 protest votes in his ward, even the North Side's Republican bosses were impressed with his political skills.15\n\nStill, Chicago's top business and political leaders had no reason to notice a few hundred votes tallied by the socialists, because these elites were celebrating the reelection of a Republican mayor. With municipal government firmly in the control of the Yankee elites, the Citizens' Association turned to the state capital, where its leaders launched a concerted campaign to ban the workers' militia. In May, association members celebrated the first stage of militia reform, confident that under the state's new military code their own First Regiment would remain commissioned and that the German workers' militia, the Lehr und Wehr Verein, would be outlawed.16 After facing four years of depression and travail, Chicago's business elites could relax and look forward to the restoration of order and the return of good times.\n\nTHEN, DURING THE HEAT of July, disturbing news ticked over the wires from the East, news with portents for the nation's railroad hub. Henry Demarest Lloyd, the _Tribune_ 's brilliant young business columnist, was one of the first to notice the reports of workers blocking trains in West Virginia, strikers plundering an armory in Maryland, scores of \"insurgent camp fires\" surrounding freight houses in Pittsburgh.17\n\nThe uprising of 1877 began in the busy railyards of Martinsburg, West Virginia, on July 17, when engineers on the Baltimore & Ohio Railroad reacted to a wage cut by stopping trains. State militiamen tried to move a train and shooting began: a soldier and a striker fell dead. Train crews soon spread word of the confrontation all along the B&O line. The action quickly spread to Baltimore, where trainmen struck and closed Camden Yards. When militia units marched in to reopen the yards, a furious battle took place and ten people were killed by the troops.18\n\nThese spontaneous protests arose because of wage cuts imposed by the B&O's managers, who followed a trend initiated by the most influential businessman in America, Tom Scott of the Pennsylvania Railroad. Scott's managers compounded the resentment when they ordered engineers and train crews to haul \"double headers\"\u2014dangerous trains with two engines and twice as many cars. Workers in Pittsburgh refused the order and surged into the yards, paralyzing rail traffic. The governor of Pennsylvania ordered out the National Guard, but many local militiamen from Pittsburgh refused to report for duty. In response to Scott's pleas, the governor then ordered militia units from Philadelphia to the scene.\n\nThe ensuing confrontation on July 22 between the soldiers and huge crowds resulted in a bloodbath when encircled militiamen fired on the protesters. Twenty people died, including a woman and a child. The immigrant neighborhoods erupted in fury. By the time the Battle of Pittsburgh ended, enraged crowds had killed several militiamen, driven the National Guard from the city, destroyed millions of dollars of railroad property, derailed trains, dismantled roundhouses and burned Union Depot to the ground.\n\nThe news of these events shocked Chicagoans, who read that \"Pittsburgh was in the hands of a mob; that the property of the railroad companies was in flames; that blood had been spilled freely in the streets; that a reign of terror prevailed\" and that \"riot fever\" was spreading west.19 It seemed to one journalist looking back on these events that city leaders should have expected trouble in Chicago, given the palpable grievances of wage workers and aggravating protests organized by the socialists. Residents felt instinctively that the riots in the East would follow the iron rails directly to the hub of the nation's railroads, and \"yet nothing was done to prepare for the impending, the inevitable uprising.\" 20\n\nThe next day freight handlers on the Illinois Central Railroad struck and marched through other Chicago yards and shops calling others out to join them. The evening _Tribune_ simply proclaimed: \"It Is Here.\" That night the Workingmen's Party organized meetings in various halls, where workers shouted for resolutions of sympathy with the workers of Pittsburgh. Later on, runners circulated a leaflet calling for a \"mass meeting\" the next evening on Market Street. \"Working men of Chicago!\" it began: \"Have you no rights?\u2014No ambition?\u2014No Manhood? Will you remain disunited while your masters rob you of your rights and the fruits of your labor? For the sake of our wives and children and our own self-respect, LET US WAIT NO LONGER! ORGANIZE AT ONCE!\"21\n\nThe meeting on the night of July 23 was \"a monster affair\" with 30,000 people filling every foot of space on Market Street. Worn down by four years of depression, frustrated by one wage cut after another and enraged by the massacres of citizens in the East, Chicago workers gathered to hear news of the great uprising and to learn what it meant for them. 22 It was a thrilling moment for Albert Parsons, who delivered a memorable speech to the impassioned throng. George Schilling, who was there that night, marveled at his comrade's ability to capture the feelings of the workers.\n\nParsons told the crowd that railroad lords like Tom Scott had subverted democracy with money and reduced their own loyal employees to degrading poverty. But they could still be stopped by an aroused citizenry. \"As long as we have a Republic, we have hope,\" he declared. Realizing that many Union army veterans stood among the assembled workmen, he invoked the name of the most prestigious body in postwar Chicago: the Grand Army of the Republic, the citizen soldiers who saved the Union. No longer honored veterans, Lincoln's soldiers were now being shot down like criminals by their own militia, and for what? For protesting yet another wage cut that meant less food for them and their hungry families.\n\n\"We are assembled here,\" Parsons exclaimed, \"as a Grand Army of Starvation. We have come together to find the means by which the great gloom that now hangs over our Republic can be lifted,\" he shouted. \"It rests with you to say whether we shall allow the capitalists to continue to exploit us. Will you organize?\" When they cheered, he responded, \"Then, enroll your names in the Grand Army of Labor.\" When Parsons finished, the enormous crowd chanted into the night air: \"Pittsburgh, Pittsburgh, Pittsburgh!\"23\n\nOn the morning of Tuesday, July 24, switchmen on the Michigan Central left their yards and marched through the city beseeching and cajoling other railroad men to join their ranks. Soon their parade swelled as gangs of rough-looking boys joined the men. By noon this small army poured through Burlington's yards and freight houses, gaining recruits in the process. Some bold railroad men even commandeered a freight train and moved it down to the Fort Wayne yards, where more switchmen left their jobs.24\n\nThoroughly alarmed, Mayor Monroe Heath closed the city's saloons and called upon citizens to organize armed patrols in their respective neighborhoods. When a prominent citizen offered to pay for extra police, the mayor accepted.25 Several hundred civilian special deputies were sworn in, armed with clubs and sent to stations. That afternoon fire bells rang all over the city, calling the militia to their armories, and that evening Civil War veterans met to form volunteer companies under the command of former army generals, colonels and captains. Fearing the worst in Chicago, the United States secretary of war ordered the 22nd Infantry of General Phil Sheridan's Division of the Missouri to move into Rock Island, Illinois, and stand ready. No violence erupted that day, but a rolling tide of protest had swept out of the railyards and into the factories, lumberyards and brickyards of the South Side, where the Bohemians seemed to have been waiting for another chance to protest their lot.26\n\nLeaders of the Workingmen's Party counseled peace that day and expressed concern that roughnecks in the crowds would provoke bloodshed. The party issued a flyer proposing a coordinated national strike for the eight-hour day without a reduction in pay. The circular called for a meeting that evening so a strike committee could be assembled to lead and coordinate the walkout and preserve the peace. By the end of the day, however, Workingmen's Party activists were laying low after being driven from the streets by the police. 27\n\nON WEDNESDAY, JULY 25, Chicagoans awakened to suffocating heat and humidity, made worse by clouds of pollution. In the early-morning haze, strikers and young men from the shantytowns appeared again in the gloomy streets, roaming throughout the city, closing workshops and battling police. When strikers gathered to hold rallies and meetings, they were attacked by patrolmen, who made no distinction between the crowds hurling stones and groups of workers assembling peacefully. That night railroad men and gangs of Irish boys from Bridgeport again converged on the Burlington yards at 16th and Halsted, where they confronted a detail of police from the Hinman Street Station. The boys began stoning the railyards and an incoming passenger train; when they continued, the patrolmen opened fire. A Burlington switchman fell dead on the spot; a score of others were wounded, including two boys who later died.28\n\nThe next day, July 26, the city was an armed camp of soldiers, police officers and armed civilians, mainly clerks and managers, who had been made special deputies. Still, the day began with more violence as a large crowd returned to Halsted Street and began cutting telegraph lines and stoning streetcars that carried commuters to work. At the stockyards and the gasworks men forced officials to sign papers promising to raise wages. Meanwhile, other strikers patrolled the idled lumberyards, which had been abandoned by the Czech laborers, and a well-coordinated general strike spread to the North Side, closing all shops and factories as well as the tanneries and rolling mills on Goose Island. Workers who had been suffering from layoffs and wage cuts for nearly four years were suddenly aroused to mass action by the protests of the nation's railway workers.\n\nThe significance of the work stoppage was overshadowed, however, by warfare that resumed along Halsted Street. The flash point of the fighting was the viaduct where Halsted Street crossed 16th Street and the Burlington tracks. There, on the edge of Pilsen, officers confronted a huge crowd that included Bohemian lumber shovers lining the sidewalks. The blue coats attacked and drove people into the viaduct, firing their revolvers into the mass. After the officers emptied their guns, they ran for their lives.\n\nThe \"battle of the viaduct\" escalated when hundreds of striking butchers and meat cutters arrived from Bridgeport in a column flying the emerald and gold nationalist banner of the Fenian Brotherhood. They joined the Bohemians in a brawl with the police that raged all afternoon. Even mounted troops could not stop it. It was TERROR'S REIGN, according to the _Chicago Times,_ and a sure sign of it was the presence of wild women in the crowd, \"Bohemian Amazons\" brandishing clubs in their \"brawny arms.\"29\n\nAfter the battle at the viaduct, the police forces drove men and boys up Halsted Street until they reached Vorw\u00e4rts Turner Hall at 12th Street. Inside, several hundred members of the Harmonia Society, an assocation of cabinetmakers and their employers, were discussing the eight-hour-day question in German. Some of the members who were smoking cigars outside the hall shouted protests at the policemen, who wheeled toward them and chased them into the meeting hall with guns drawn.\n\nWhen officers thundered into the meeting room, chaos ensued as police attacked the cabinetmakers with clubs. When the Germans defended themselves with chairs, some patrolmen opened fire. Charles Tessman, a twenty-eight-year-old union cabinetmaker, fell dead when a bullet ripped through his brain. Men clogged the stairs trying to escape the danger, and the police pounded them with clubs until they dropped in a heap at the bottom. Outside, witnesses saw a police sergeant firing his pistol at bystanders, while his men beat cabinetmakers as they fled the hall in terror. Sent out to suppress rioters, the police became rioters themselves. Their attack on the Harmonia Society at Vorw\u00e4rts Turner Hall aroused all of Chicago's Germania and provoked some immigrant workers, like the upholsterer August Spies, to join the armed organization of workingmen, the Lehr und Wehr Verein.30\n\n_Police attacking cabinetmakers' meeting at Vorw\u00e4rts Turner Hall, 1877_\n\nThat afternoon spirits rose in downtown Chicago as anxious residents saw sunburned regulars of the United States infantry marching down Madison Street with bayonets fixed, fresh from the Dakotas, where they had been fighting the Sioux. That evening, a forbidding moonless night, the shooting stopped and a few brave people ventured out of their homes to shop; some even rode out to the Exposition Hall on the lakefront for an evening concert of Wagnerian music. The program included selections like \"Siegfried's Death\" from _G\u00f6tterd\u00e4mmerung,_ which matched the concertgoers' mood at the end of a violent day.\n\nOn Friday, July 27, an eerie calm enveloped the city. The great uprising had been put down. In working-class neighborhoods like Pilsen and Bridgeport, people gathered on street corners, in saloons and in meeting halls to ponder what had happened, while some made plans to bury their loved ones. Within a few days the body count had been tallied: 30 men and boys had died, most of them from the Irish and Bohemian wards around Halsted Street.31 The police and the 5,000 specials they deputized suffered no casualties.\n\nAs the immigrants mourned their dead and the police girded for future confrontations, businessmen measured the costs of the uprising in dollars and cents: at least $6 million lost in shipping and manufacturing alone, not to mention the cost of property damage and extra pay for the special deputies. But these expenses paled at what would now be spent to make the city secure. Chicago's richest man, Marshall Field, would donate thousands to purchase arms and would insist the money be invested in constructing fortresslike armories. The Citizens' Association provided the police department with four 12-pound cannons with caissons, one ten-barrel Gatling gun, 296 Springfield breech-loading rifles and 60,000 rounds of ammunition. Police Superintendent Michael Hickey, designated a colonel by the mayor, infused the police force with a martial spirit, ordering patrolmen to drill regularly for street fighting and to receive instruction in handling their pistols and their new arsenal of heavy weapons.32\n\nWhat could not be counted or measured, but only felt, was the hate and mistrust that now gripped Chicagoans of different social classes. The uprising of 1877 and its suppression left toxic fumes of animosity that would poison social relations in the city for years to come.33 No one expressed these hard feelings more strongly than the editor of the _Tribune,_ who drew some tough lessons from the episode for the police. On the first day of the strike patrolmen fired blank cartridges to no effect. On the second day they shot above the heads of the strikers and a few of the rioters were hurt, but on the third day of the riots the police began firing directly at the protesters, which \"had a most admirable effect on the mobs.\" Had the police been ordered to fire low on the first day, the _Tribune_ concluded, \"fewer would have been hurt than were, and the city would have been saved the disgrace of three days' rule by the commune.\" 34\n\nWHILE THE MILLIONAIRE MERCHANT Marshall Field concluded that only a militarized city would be safe from another uprising, and while the editors of the _Tribune_ decided the police now needed a shoot-to-kill strategy to suppress rioting, labor activists drew their own lesson from the conflict; it was not, however, the one conservatives feared, the one reached by the European anarchists who believed that state repression left workers with only one choice: to commit acts of violence that would spark an armed revolution. In the United States, socialists and labor reformers began a search for American solutions to the dilemma they faced, solutions that would allow hardworking citizens to peacefully capture the republic from the money lords who ruled it and make it a democracy by and for the people.35 These radicals were encouraged not only by the militancy of the strikers but by the behavior of hundreds of city dwellers who joined the workers in a series of community uprisings that expressed long-standing grievances against the railroads and their destructive invasion of urban space.36\n\nAll those who spoke for laboring people agreed on the challenge before them. The actions of Tom Scott and the other railroad chiefs confirmed the widespread popular belief that these men had risen above the law and descended below any accepted standard of Christian morality. They could discharge employees without cause, withhold their pay without notice and cut their wages without compunction. Scott and the railroad barons forced their workers to make a choice: submit to industrial serfdom and sacrifice their manhood or take concerted action and become outlaws. This, wrote one labor reformer, was no way to treat hardworking citizens of the world's only democracy. 37\n\nWorkingmen and their leaders had feared monopolists like Tom Scott for decades, but in 1877 they encountered a new threat: the massive use of the militia and the U.S. Army to suppress civil protest. For the first time, citizen strikers and their allies confronted a hostile array of forces deployed by their own cherished government. As if to exacerbate workers' fears and to reassure frightened property owners, the popular _Harper's Weekly_ featured a frightful illustration of militiamen pouring rifle fire into a group of Chicago workers armed with sticks and stones. The scene, depicting the battle at the Halsted Street viaduct, was a vivid but misleading one; the police, not the militia, had fired all the fatal bullets in that assault. Nonetheless, National Guard units had killed scores of strikers and other citizens in Maryland and Pennsylvania, and these shootings were more than enough evidence to confirm the popular view that the railroad kings could influence governors, intimidate mayors, exploit the militia and in effect subvert the republican system of government. After the smoke had cleared in 1877, George McNeill, a leading labor intellectual, expressed a new fear, a fear that the \"spirit of hate that now centers upon the great monopolies will soon extend to the government that acts as their protector.\"38\n\n_The Battle of the Viaduct at Halsted and 16th streets, 1877, in which National_ _Guard troops are inaccurately depicted as firing on a crowd_\n\nAnd yet the insurgency of 1877 offered a surprisingly affirmative message to labor leaders. Samuel Gompers of the Cigar Makers recalled that the strikes alerted discouraged union men to the enormous latent power of the wage-earning class. Made desperate by their accumulated miseries, the railway workers rebelled, but, lacking strong organizations, they were doomed to defeat. Still, their rebellion in the \"name of American manhood\" and in defense of their rights as citizens inspired labor activists like Gompers, who wrote later that the trainmen sounded \"a tocsin\" with \"a ringing message of hope for us all.\"39\n\nNo one heard the alarm bell in July more clearly than Albert Parsons. Indeed, on the second day after the strike began in Chicago, he experienced a sequence of unforgettable events that shook him to the core.40 That Tuesday morning after the printer said goodbye to his wife, Lucy, in their North Side flat, he took the Clark Street horsecar downtown, feeling excited about the great enthusiasm his speech had generated the night before. His mood changed quickly when he entered the _Times_ building and learned that he had been removed from the rolls of working compositors. He had been fired because of his rousing speech he later recalled in his autobiography. Feeling dejected, Parsons walked a few blocks to the offices of his party's German newspaper, _Arbeiter-Zeitung,_ hoping to find some consolation from his fellow union printers. As he was telling his story, two men entered the building and informed Parsons that Mayor Heath wanted to see him at City Hall. He readily joined them, thinking that perhaps city leaders might want to consult him about finding some way to calm the workers before another hideous riot exploded.\n\nAs they walked away, Parsons realized that his escorts were policemen in plain clothes, and soon he learned they were taking him not to the mayor's office, but into the bowels of an old wooden building called the Rookery, which had served as a temporary police headquarters since the fire. Assuming he was being arrested, Parsons was amazed when he was ushered into a large room filled with well-dressed businessmen he recognized as Board of Trade members. He was put in a chair and lectured by Police Superintendent Michael Hickey on the great trouble he had brought upon the city of Chicago. Hickey wanted to know: Did Parsons think he could come up from Texas and incite working people to insurrection without arousing suspicion?\n\nParsons tried to respond, but his voice sounded pathetically thin. He had a cold and was hoarse from speaking outdoors the night before. He was also weak from lack of sleep and shaken by his firing that morning. Yet he summoned his strength and explained that he had not called for an insurrection at the rally, but had addressed the causes of the uprising and outlined the program of the Workingmen's Party. Then, more boldly, he proclaimed that a strike would not have erupted \"if working men had voted for their own party and elected good men to make good laws.\" This remark infuriated some businessmen in the room, who burst into jeers and shouts. A few screamed, \"Hang him, lynch him!\"\n\nParsons's ordeal lasted for two hours. When it ended, Hickey told him to leave the city because his life was in danger, that he could be assassinated at any moment on the street. The superintendent then opened a spring latch door, shoved Parsons into a dark hallway and whispered in his ear, \"Take warning.\"\n\nLost in a dark labyrinth of the Rookery's empty corridors, Parsons walked aimlessly, not knowing where to go or what to do. He felt \"absolutely alone, without a friend in the world.\" This, Parsons wrote later, was his first experience with \"the powers that be\" in Chicago, one that made him conscious that they were powerful enough to give or take a person's life.\n\nParsons wandered the nearly deserted streets that night and sensed \"a hushed and expectant feeling\" pervading the city. He picked up an evening newspaper reporting that the strikers had become more violent, that the Commune was about to rise and that he, Albert Parsons, was the one who caused it all. Frightened now, he decided once again to look for support from his union brothers. He called upon the printers at the _Chicago Tribune_ to see if he could get a night's work and, as he later wrote, to be near men of his own craft, whom he instinctively felt would sympathize with him. He entered the composing room and began talking with union typographers on the night shift about the great strike, but was soon seized from behind by two men who pushed him out of the room and down the stairs, ignoring the angry shouts from his fellow compositors. As the men dragged him down the stairs, Parsons protested at being treated like a dog, but he soon fell silent when one of them put a pistol to his head and threatened to blow his brains out.\n\nIn less than twenty-four hours Albert Parsons had been fired, removed from his trade, blacklisted, threatened with lynching, had a gun held to his head and been warned to leave the city. But he was not absolutely alone in the world; he had many friends in Chicago. Furthermore, he knew how to live with the burden of being a marked man. For five dangerous years he had defied the Ku Klux Klan and risked his life to defend the rights of black freedmen in Texas. He had held his ground then, and he would do so again. The Board of Trade was not going to drive Albert Parsons out of Chicago. Within a month after his ordeal, he would be back on the streets, campaigning for the Workingmen's Party.\nChapter Six\n\n _The Flame That Makes the Kettle Boil_\n\nSEPTEMBER 1877\u2013OCTOBER 1883\n\nIN SEPTEMBER OF 1877, Albert Parsons, running hard for county office as a socialist, harangued crowds in saloons and railyards, in Turner halls where German immigrants still seethed over the deadly police attacks of July and on street corners in riot-torn Pilsen. Everywhere he went he spoke of the great uprising of July and its bloody suppression.1\n\nWhen Parsons topped the Workingmen's Party ticket, polling a total of 8,000 votes, his former employer at the _Times_ simply dismissed his tally as \"a riot vote\" garnered by one of those \"long-haired idiots and knaves\" who denied the inexorable laws of political economy. 2 The socialists, however, were elated; they had gained favorable public attention and tapped into widespread popular indignation over the behavior of the railroad barons. Up to this point in his young but eventful political life, Albert Parsons had been a reformer, a socialist who believed that as long as workers lived in a republic, they had hope of gaining power through the democratic process. Over the next six years, however, a series of discouraging events would dash that hope and send him down a revolutionary road.\n\nIn December of 1877 the Chicago socialists sent a delegation to their party's national convention, where they agreed to merge their party with a new organization, the Socialistic Labor Party. The following spring the party ran a full slate of candidates in all the city's wards, calling for the circulation of paper currency (greenbacks) and for the enactment of an eight-hour day; the socialists also demanded the abolition of vagrancy laws used to punish the unemployed, conspiracy laws used to persecute unionists and convict-lease arrangements used to exploit forced labor and undermine free laborers.3\n\nAlbert Parsons, now residing in the 15th Ward, made another impressive showing in a race for a City Council seat, polling 744 votes, just 116 votes fewer than the winner. He believed, however, that he had actually won the election and that Republican election officials had counted him out.4 Being cheated out of public office reminded Parsons of the blatant election fraud carried out by Democratic officials in Texas against his old Republican allies. It seemed to matter little which party was in power: the people's will was denied either way. Having served his time as a militia colonel defending freedmen's voting rights in Texas, Parsons was now prepared to take up arms to protect workingmen's voting rights in Chicago. Indeed, some of the German workers who had voted for him in Ward 15 had already done so.\n\nThat spring, units of the Lehr und Wehr Verein began drilling in public and deploying their militiamen in defense of socialist meetings and picnics. By the summer, the workers' militia could marshal four companies with several divisions (each with forty men). Its officers explained that the militiamen would act only if workers' constitutional rights were violated, as the police had done when they invaded the cabinetmakers' meeting at the Vorw\u00e4rts Turner Hall that summer. These assurances failed to calm the nerves of worried city leaders, and when the Bohemian Sharpshooters were observed drilling on a prairie lot outside Pilsen, word spread that the socialists were preparing for an armed insurrection. The Sharpshooters' commander ridiculed the rumor. Albert Parsons, however, spoke in a different tone. \"If people try to break up our meetings,\" he threatened, \"as they did at Turner Hall, they will meet foes worthy of their steel.\"5\n\nThe Citizens' Association's leaders took this warning seriously and accelerated their efforts to raise money to arm their own regiment and to push legislators to ban public drilling by the worker units. One year after the great uprising, Chicagoans were hiving off into armed camps.\n\nThe city's businessmen, the _Tribune_ reported, openly expressed their alarm at the possibility of \"trouble with the Communists\" that summer or fall. Perilous days lay ahead, warned the Chicago _Inter-Ocean._ Poor people were desperate for relief; they were listening to the socialists and questioning the conventional wisdom about economic laws. \"There is distrust, dissatisfaction, discontent about us everywhere,\" the paper's editor declared. \"Communism proper has little to do with it, but a common feeling of disgust, discouragement, and uncertainty feeds the flame that makes the communist kettle boil.\"6\n\n_Albert Parsons at about age thirty_\n\nBY NOW LUCY PARSONS had joined her husband, Albert, in fanning the flames of discontent. The couple immersed themselves in the city's lively socialist movement and in the cultural life it spawned. By the fall, the Socialistic Labor Party had established four German sections in various neighborhoods, as well as Scandinavian, Bohemian, French and English branches. The party's German newspaper, _Der Vorbote,_ expanded its circulation and its members started a Danish paper, as well as an English paper, the _Socialist,_ which Albert helped to edit. Lucy contributed as well with a mournful poem about poor people \"wandering up and down the cheerless earth, aimless, homeless, helpless,\" as \"the cries of their hungry children and the prayers of their despairing wives fell upon them like curses.\" Lucy also joined Albert in debates sponsored by socialist societies, plunging into the discussions, speaking with her own resonant voice and arguing with what one male observer called \"spirit and animation.\"7\n\nPropelled by young enthusiasts like Albert and Lucy Parsons, the Chicago socialists mounted an ambitious campaign aimed at the spring municipal elections of 1879. They nominated a popular and respected German physician, Dr. Ernest Schmidt, for mayor, and put candidates up for all major offices. 8 The campaign reached a climax in March at an ambitious rally and festival: a lavish celebration of the Paris Commune's eighth anniversary. The socialists rented the largest meeting hall in the city for the event\u2014the enormous Exposition Building on the lakefront, constructed after the fire to showcase the commercial and industrial accomplishments of Chicago. The pageant featured ceremonial maneuvers by 500 armed men who formed units of the Lehr und Wehr Verein, Bohemian Sharpshooters, the Irish Labor Guard and the Scandinavian Jaegerverein. People flocked to the event, and so many of them packed the hall\u2014more than 40,000\u2014that it was impossible to carry out the full program of speaking, singing, dancing and drilling. Still, the event was a spectacular achievement for the socialists and a reminder that the memory of the Paris Commune had acquired mythical power in the minds of many immigrant workers.9\n\nThe next day a _Tribune_ editorial asked who were the thousands who had jammed the Exposition Building that night. The answer oozed with contempt. \"Skim the purlieus of the Fifth Ward,\" read the editorial, referring to Irish Bridgeport, \"drain the Bohemian socialist slums of the Sixth and Seventh Wards, scour the Scandinavian dives of the Tenth and Fourteenth Wards, cull the choicest thieves from Halsted and Desplaines Street, pick out from Fourth Avenue, Jackson Street, Clark Street and State Street and other noted haunts the worst specimens of female depravity, scatter in all the red-headed, cross-eyed and frowsy servant girls in three divisions of the city and bunch all these together . . . [and] you have a pretty good idea of the crowd that made up last night's gathering.\"10\n\nThe socialists knew, however, that their pageant had attracted many respectable immigrants\u2014merchants, builders, musicians, teachers, doctors, tradesmen and saloonkeepers who still resented the _Tribune_ and its haughty editor. They remembered well that Medill, as mayor, had offended them, not only with his hostile words but with his attempts to close their saloons on Sundays and to stop them from rebuilding their wooden homes after the Great Fire.\n\nCity elections in Chicago were usually fought out over issues like tax rates, building codes, construction contracts and saloon regulations, but in 1879 the socialists addressed economic issues that concerned unemployed workers as well as consumers, saloonkeepers and home owners. Voters were startled by the socialists' dashing confidence and the boldness of their proposals, such as municipal ownership of the streetcar lines and utilities, which were owned and operated by high-handed monopolists. 11\n\nDr. Schmidt finished third in the spring election of 1879, polling 12,000 votes. The socialist vote constituted only one-fifth of the total, but it was large enough to deny a victory to the Republicans, who, since 1860, had always prevailed in two-party races with the Democrats. Dr. Schmidt had attracted support from German and Scandinavian tradesmen and professionals who had traditionally supported the Republican Party, as well as from saloonkeepers and brewery owners angered by the Grand Old Party's zeal for temperance reform. As a result, Kentucky-born Carter Henry Harrison became the city's first Democratic mayor since the Civil War.12\n\nThe businessmen who led the city's Republican Party were furious about losing control of City Hall so soon after they had won it back from the immigrant People's Party, but socialists like Albert and Lucy Parsons were in high spirits, riding the waves of a surging political movement and anticipating the birth of their son, Albert, Jr., who was expected in September.\n\nLucy's pregnancy did not slow her down; indeed, she escalated her political efforts by joining the new Chicago Working Women's Union and helping to expose the plight of female domestic servants, who could be dismissed by their mistresses without notice if accused of \"misconduct.\" Here she encountered a small but brilliant constellation of radical women that included Lizzie Swank, a frail young woman of Yankee stock. Swank could have joined the Daughters of the American Revolution, but instead she adopted her mother's libertarian beliefs and began writing for the provocative anarchist paper _Lucifer._ Attracted to Chicago from Iowa by the great uprising of 1877, Swank found work in a sewing shop and soon after joined the Working Women's Union. There she met Lucy Parsons, who persuaded her new friend to join the insurgent socialist movement. The two young women bonded immediately and plunged into radical activism with abandon. In the summer of 1879 they took part in a joyous three-day festival around the Fourth of July, riding on top of a float decorated with pink cloth and ribbons bearing banners praising STRENGTH OF UNION and promising world peace in these words: WHEN WOMAN IS ADMITTED TO THE COUNCIL OF NATIONS, WAR WILL COME TO AN END, FOR WOMAN KNOWS THE VALUE OF LIFE.13\n\nThe high hopes of summer did not last, however, for in the fall elections the socialists' vote plummeted. The German distillers, brewers, tavern owners and saloonkeepers who voted for Dr. Schmidt in the spring as a protest against the antisaloon elements in the Republican Party returned to the ranks of the Grand Old Party in 1880 after party leaders assured them their breweries and beer gardens would remain open. Democratic workers, who had favored the socialist program for public relief, found the demand less compelling when the long depression finally ended. The party's ward bosses soon shepherded most of these stray workingmen back into the fold. What is more, the newly elected Democratic mayor, the shrewd charmer Carter Harrison, offered city jobs to socialists, who eagerly joined the mass of job seekers flooding City Hall.\n\nSocialistic Labor Party militants angrily branded the office seekers opportunists and accused some of their leaders of corruption. Faction fights raged among former comrades. The quarreling socialists patched up their differences and put a ticket in the field for the spring elections in 1881, but the party had lost its dash and its sense of common purpose. Socialist vote totals fell in all but one ward on the Northwest Side, where Frank Stauber won reelection to the council\u2014only to be counted out by two election judges who brazenly stuffed the ballot boxes. For many socialists like Albert Parsons, already dejected by the fickle habits of Chicago voters, this blatant case of fraud crushed what little faith they retained in the efficacy of the ballot. \"It was then,\" Parsons remembered, \"that I began to realize the hopeless task of political reformation.\"14\n\nAT THIS POINT, disillusioned radicals like Albert Parsons and August Spies bolted the Socialistic Labor Party. The rebel faction, which included most of the Chicago party's German members, believed that running candidates for office was futile without the thorough organization of workers into aggressive, unified trade unions. Incumbent party leaders, mostly English-speaking socialists, insisted that trade unions serve as auxiliaries to their party. There was another bone of contention. The dominant group objected to armed workers' organizations because they frightened potential socialist voters, while the militants maintained that their meetings and rallies would be attacked if left undefended, and that, even if their candidates gained public office, they would simply be removed without an armed force to defend them. These debates hardened hearts and closed minds, leading passionate young socialists like Parsons and Spies to reject electoral politics completely. 15\n\nThe argument among socialists over the workers' militia became even more heated when the Citizens' Association succeeded in persuading the legislature to outlaw the activity of such militias. The Supreme Court of Illinois upheld this ban on armed marches of proletarian militiamen\u2014 a decision Parsons and Spies denounced as a clear violation of the Second Amendment of the U.S. Constitution, which protected citizens' rights to bear arms.16\n\nThis court decision seemed like a seismic political event to both young men. Parsons, grandson of a patriot militia commander in the American Revolution and a militia colonel in his own right, and Spies, who had drilled with the Lehr und Wehr Verein, would frequently refer to what they regarded as a monumental injustice in the court's decision: the businessmen's First Regiment would continue to arm itself and conduct drills on public streets, but the workers' self-defense groups would be banned. The decision provoked an enduring sense of anxiety and hostility among Chicago socialists, who now believed the Bill of Rights no longer protected them, but only their sworn enemies.17\n\nIn order to convince other workers that a crisis was at hand, the socialist militants took control of the party's daily German-language newspaper, _Arbeiter-Zeitung,_ which was nearly bankrupt. The dissidents hired August Spies to manage this publication as well as the weekly _Vorbote_ and the socialist Sunday paper _Die Fackel._ Reviving the socialist press was a discouraging venture, because the party was so weak and divided, but Spies leapt at the challenge. He found a capable assistant in Oscar Neebe, a well-traveled young man who had left his birthplace, New York City, and come to Chicago at the age of sixteen. He worked first in a German saloon near the McCormick Reaper Works, where he heard molders and blacksmiths talk bitterly about the 1867 eight-hour campaign and its betrayal. Then, after several stints as a cook on lake vessels, Neebe found work at good wages in a stove factory, where he labored until 1877, when he was fired and blacklisted for defending the rights of other workers. Neebe endured months of near starvation before he found work selling compressed yeast, a job that took him all over the city and into the company of August Spies.18\n\nSpies, who owned his own shop, and Neebe, who had worked as a salesman, used their business skills to boost sales of all three socialist newspapers, and in just a few years they turned their Socialistic Publishing Company into a flourishing business. In the process, the daily _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ became for thousands of German-speaking workingmen what the _Chicago Daily Tribune_ was for native-born businessmen. Spies's mastery of German, his skill as a speaker and writer, his knowledge of world politics and his sense of outrage over injustice made his editorials and essays well known to thousands of immigrant workers in his adopted land. Indeed, in no American city did a radical journalist speak to an audience of the size August Spies reached in Chicago.19\n\n_August Spies (left) and Oscar Neebe_\n\nUsing his influence as an opinion shaper, Spies helped convene a meeting of militants who shared a sense of urgency about what they viewed as a vast conspiracy to deprive working people of their rights. The congress at a North Side Turner hall in October 1881 aimed at attracting all socialists \"weary of compromise and desirous of accomplishing the social revolution by means other than political action.\"20 Some delegates who came from New York City had already given up on electoral politics and taken up the revolutionary banner. Indeed, a few of them reported with high excitement on a meeting just concluded in London, where a band of revolutionaries had decided to revive the International Workingmen's Association, the organization Karl Marx had dissolved when he feared it would be captured by the anarchist followers of Mikhail Bakunin.\n\nThe London meeting had pulsated with talk about the Russian nihilists who had recently stunned the western world by assassinating Czar Alexander II. The result of this act was not the rising of the peasants envisioned by the conspirators, however, but rather a wave of savage repression that shattered the revolutionary movement. Still, this reaction from the czar's forces did not discourage Bakunin's London followers; indeed, they made the Russian conspirators into martyrs and vowed to follow their example. 21\n\nThe anarchists who formed the new International Working People's Association in London acted on their belief that socialist propaganda could not effectively reach workers through trade unions and political parties; nor would revolutionary change result from strikes, mass demonstrations and election campaigns. If the Reichstag of Germany could ban the most powerful socialist party in the world and if the imperial troops could crush any demonstration or strike, then revolutionaries must resort to a new method\u2014\"propaganda by deed.\" These revolutionaries believed that an _attentat,_ a violent act planned by a secret conspiracy and committed by a dedicated militant, could impress the world with the evil of the despotic state and with the fearless determination of those who intended to destroy it. Many European anarchists believed such deeds would terrorize the authorities who were targeted, arouse the masses and trigger a popular insurrection.22\n\nThe new \"Black International\" formed in London would become a \"fearful specter in the eyes of governments throughout the Western Hemisphere, which suspected it of being the directing power behind various acts of assassination and terror committed in the ensuing decades,\" according to the historian Paul Avrich. These suspicions were \"utterly without foundation,\" however, because the International existed as little more than an information bureau that led a \"phantom existence and soon faded into oblivion.\"23 The one city where the Black International attracted an impressive following among workers was Chicago.\n\nDURING THE 1880S Chicago's total population increased by 118 percent\u2014 a rate of growth five times faster than that of New York City. The city's foreign-born population doubled, reaching 450,000, a total that made immigrant Chicago larger than the total population of St. Louis or any other city in the Midwest, a total swollen by thousands of impoverished Polish Catholic peasants and Jewish refugees from the ghettos of Russia.24 To many native-born Protestants, who constituted but one-fifth of the city's people, it seemed that Chicago had become \"a foreign city,\" a place that now contained \"more Germans than Anglo-Saxons.\" 25\n\nPolitical refugees from Germany formed a small but outstanding segment of this new immigrant population. For example, among the embittered German exiles who escaped Bismarck's police forces came the well-known socialist Paul Grottkau. Born in 1846 to a noble family of Brandenburg, he went to Berlin to study architecture but became a stone-mason instead. Grottkau soon became a prominent socialist editor and organizer, and was forced to flee Germany when the antisocialist law took effect in 1878. The exile made his way to Chicago and immediately joined the Socialistic Labor Party, whose members already knew him by reputation. A compelling speaker and writer, Grottkau became editor of the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ and a role model for August Spies and other young Germans who joined him when he led the revolt of socialist militants against the party's leadership. Like Grottkau, these young Turks began calling themselves Social Revolutionaries.26\n\nAnother newcomer from Germany, Michael Schwab, would soon fall under Grottkau's influence as well. Schwab was born along the Main River in northern Bavaria and raised in a prosperous family of devout Catholic peasants until he was orphaned at the age of sixteen. Forced to support himself, the youth became apprenticed to a struggling bookbinder for whom he worked sixteen hours a day. During the rest of the time he devoured books as fast as he could lay his hands on them. Soon after he joined a bookbinders' union, its socialist leaders converted young Michael to the cause. Volunteering as an agitator in the weaving towns, Schwab was appalled by the condition of workers, who ate thin, brown bread and fat for dinner, and by the factory owners, who made young working girls their mistresses. After this disheartening life on the road as a traveling \"trades fellow,\" Schwab left his fatherland behind forever, having learned that political liberty without economic freedom was \"a mocking lie.\"27\n\nThe studious Schwab brought these views with him to America in 1879. When he first arrived in Chicago, the bookish Bavarian kept aloof from all organizations and spent his energy studying the English language and reading American history. Eventually he discovered that bookbinders were paid no better in his adopted city than they were in Hamburg and that, here too, thousands of children were \"worked to perdition.\" In 1881, when Schwab could get no work as a bookbinder, he found a job translating an American romance into German for _Arbeiter-Zeitung._ His skill impressed editor Grottkau, who hired him as a reporter for the daily. Before long, Schwab had resumed his life as a socialist agitator. He attended many meetings where German comrades delivered elaborate speeches and long denunciations of their rivals. But even a dedicated social revolutionary like Schwab was bored by all this talk. Yearning to be inspired, he joined a throng of German workers who packed into the North Side Turner Hall one night in October 1882 to hear a speech by the notorious firebrand Johann Most.28\n\nMost, already well known to Chicago's German socialists as a revolutionary agitator and bold provocateur, was born an illegitimate child to poor parents at Augsburg, Germany, in 1846. He lost his mother to cholera when he was a little boy, and then endured a bitter childhood under the rule of a stepmother. At age thirteen his miserable life worsened when a botched operation on his jaw disfigured him and crushed his hopes for a career on the stage. His misery deepened after he apprenticed himself to a cruel master bookbinder.29\n\nRidiculed and ostracized because of his deformity, Most found solace in reading books after he finished a long day of binding them. Resentful and embittered, he left Germany when he was nineteen and wandered through Switzerland, where he lived in isolation until, in Zurich, he met some socialist workers who befriended him and shared their ideas with him. \"From then on,\" he recalled, \"I began to feel like a human being.\" 30\n\nDedicating his life to \"the cause of humanity,\" Most returned to Germany and threw himself into the burgeoning socialist movement. A tireless organizer, orator, songwriter, pamphleteer and popularizer of Marx's _Das Kapital,_ he even won election to the Reichstag for two terms. But when Bismarck launched his assault on the socialists, Most was arrested and imprisoned. Upon release, he left Germany for London, where he published his own newspaper, _Freiheit,_ and used it to attack all authority with boundless fervor.\n\nWhen Most wrote an ecstatic response to the assassination of the czar in 1881, British authorities jailed him. After enduring sixteen months of hard labor, the agitator emerged from prison a hero and a martyr to German revolutionaries in exile around the world.\n\nWhen Johann Most reached Chicago in 1882, 6,000 people came to hear him speak. The crowd spilled into the aisles and massed outside to hear his furious bombastic attacks on the capitalists and their government lackeys, who had already declared class war on the poor. Speaking in English with a heavy German accent and performing like a seasoned actor, Most elicited thunderous applause from the huge immigrant audience, who found him shocking, entertaining and enthralling at the same time. Many immigrant workers who heard him speak were thrilled by his acidic diatribes against the rich and powerful and excited by his talk of manning the barricades and dynamiting police stations. Utterly contemptuous of election campaigns and legislative reforms, he insisted on direct action and revolutionary violence.31\n\n_Johann Most_\n\nMost galvanized young German socialists like August Spies and Michael Schwab, who felt mired in the tedium of their own propaganda. Though they were thrilled by Most's speeches, Chicago's social revolutionaries did not form conspiracies or launch violent assaults on the authorities. Most appealed to them more on visceral or emotional terms than on practical ones; indeed, the city's revolutionaries remained convinced by Marx and Engels that the road to socialism was a long one and that there were no shortcuts through individual acts of terror. And so, in 1883, Spies, Schwab and their comrades patiently set out to organize new clubs of Social Revolutionaries and to expand the circulation of their paper, the _Arbeiter-Zeitung._\n\nALBERT PARSONS WAS ONE of the few Americans who played a prominent role in this activity because he shared the young Germans' belief that workers needed their own clubs and newspapers to absorb revolutionary ideas just as they needed their own militia to defend their rights; yet a truly powerful and radical workers' movement required something more as well: a unifying issue and a solidifying organization. Parsons found the issue in the old eight-hour demand, and he found the organization in a mysterious order called the Knights of Labor.\n\nFounded in 1869, the Noble and Holy Order of the Knights of Labor existed secretly in a few eastern cities for several years and then emerged out of the shadows to hold its first national assembly a few months after the 1877 railroad strike.32 Albert Parsons had joined the order on July 4, 1876, a time when the organization was little more than a fraternal order of craftsmen with elaborate rituals, mostly borrowed from the Masons. The mystic aura of the Knights attracted him, as did their moral code, one that glorified chivalrous manhood and generous fraternity. The young printer also believed that the Knights could create a genuine \"brotherhood of toil\" among men of different crafts, religions, races and nationalities, even among men who fought on opposing sides in the Civil War. Furthermore, he shared the conviction of the order's founders that the wage system created opposing classes and caused bloody conflicts, and that it should be replaced by a cooperative economy that would allow dependent wage workers to become independent producers. Soon after he joined the Noble and Holy Order, Parsons linked up with his comrade George Schilling and founded the first Chicago assembly of the Knights, later known as the \"old 400.\"33\n\nMeanwhile, Parsons tried, almost single-handedly, to revive the eight-hour crusade Chicago workers had abandoned after their devastating defeat in 1867. He invited the legendary founder of the Eight-Hour League, Ira Steward, to the city and then joined the old man in an effort to create a new movement that would \"band together all workers\" of all races and all nationalities into \"one grand labor brotherhood.\" In 1882, Parsons's hopes for such a movement suddenly rose when union carpenters walked out to reduce their workweek and German bakers struck to reduce their long, hot workday, which averaged more than fifteen hours and often stretched to seventeen or eighteen. These job actions confirmed the view of Parsons and other socialists that the eight-hour system could be achieved only through direct action by workers, not by laws that could be subverted by judges, ignored by elected officials and defied by employers.34\n\nSuch a transformation would not occur without a new kind of labor movement that amalgamated the fractured trade unions into one solidified organization. The few existing trade unions, based largely on the power of craftsmen like carpenters, cigar makers and ironworkers, had formed a new national Federation of Organized Trades and Labor Unions in 1881, but no unified action had taken place as a result. The first sign of change came in March 1882, when a group of German tanners struck and demanded a wage equal to that of the more skilled English-speaking curriers. When employers refused the demand, the curriers struck in support with the immigrant tanners. This action astounded the _Chicago_ _Tribune,_ because the curriers acted not on the basis \"of any grievance of their own, but because of a sentimental and sympathetic feeling for another class of workmen.\" The sympathy strike even surprised the editor of the trades council newspaper, who said it was \"something new and wonderful.\" The seventy-two-day exercise in solidarity was, according to the Illinois Bureau of Labor Statistics, \"one of the most remarkable on record,\" an action \"conducted on the principle of the Knights of Labor which proclaims that 'an injury to one is the concern of all.' \"35 Suddenly, a group of divided workers actually demonstrated the ideal of working-class solidarity espoused by dreamers like Albert Parsons.\n\nA few weeks later the Knights of Labor found a new constituency among Irish brickyard workers on the Southwest Side who took a job action to restore wage rates cut during the long depression. The Knights advised the strikers to refrain from the violence that had characterized earlier protests in what police called the \"terror district.\" After hearing these assurances, Mayor Carter Harrison ordered the police to stay out of the conflict. Unable to shield strikebreakers from running a gauntlet of verbal abuse by the strikers, their families and their neighbors, the brickyard owners conceded to their workers' demands and the Knights' prestige soared. 36\n\nDuring the spring of 1882 hundreds of immigrant workers in Chicago became Knights of Labor\u2014butchers and packinghouse workers in the stockyards, brick makers and iron rollers on Goose Island, blacksmiths and brass finishers on the West Side, dry-goods clerks and telegraphers in the downtown business district. Besides trade assemblies for skilled workers, the Knights created mixed assemblies to reach out to unskilled workers of all kinds: female bookbinders, shoe stitchers and carpet weavers, even 7,000 \"sewing girls\" who toiled in clothing factories.37\n\nIn the summer of 1883 one assembly of the Knights felt confident enough to challenge one of the nation's most important monopolies, the Western Union Telegraph Company, controlled by railroad magnate Jay Gould. The telegraphers formed an assembly of the Knights, and when Western Union's president refused to talk with them, the operators struck on July 19, 1883. Even the religious press, uniformly hostile to strikes and to unions, supported the walkout, because it was conducted peacefully, and above all because it was caused by a monopoly company under the control of the notorious speculator Gould. _Harper's Weekly_ expressed amazement that several thousand men and women in the United States and Canada had quit work at precisely the same moment and had then managed their strike with \"great skill and marvelous precision.\" The journal said that Western Union had displayed a \"grasping and unscrupulous attitude\" toward its operators, but its editor worried that the walkout would cause a disastrous breakdown of the nation's communication system.38\n\nThe telegraphers' unified action caused an enormous stir in Chicago, where Western Union was headquartered and where the nation's railroads and commodity markets were centered. No city depended more upon instant telegraph communications. Yet the strikers won widespread public support, despite the \"universal inconvenience\" caused by their actions. All trade unionists and many small businessmen avidly supported the telegraphers in their brave stand against the mighty Gould empire. To Albert Parsons and the socialists, the strike represented far more than a moral stand against monopoly power. At one packed meeting of strikers and their supporters, Parsons likened the union telegraphers to his own printers, referring to both groups as \"brain workers\" whose fingers controlled the composition and flow of information so essential to modern business and government. These highly skilled workers were quite capable of running the nation's communications industry without the likes of profiteers like Jay Gould in the way.39\n\nExpressions of solidarity with the telegraphers, including Parsons's eloquent outburst, did not, however, arouse tangible support in the form of strike relief or sympathetic action. When the aid the strikers expected from the Knights of Labor did not arrive, the head of the telegraphers' union called off the strike and ordered the men back to work. Those who returned to Western Union were required to sign \"an ironclad oath\" pledging not to join any labor organization.40\n\nThe telegraphers' defeat added to the woes of the Chicago Knights, who, after the spectacular strikes of 1882 and the heady months of expansion that followed, now faced employers who refused to recognize the order or to arbitrate disputes with them. By the fall of 1883 the Knights' hopes of organizing 50,000 workers in Chicago had faded and their ranks had dwindled to a mere 1,000 members.41\n\nIT WAS UNDER these sobering circumstances in October 1883 that Albert Parsons and August Spies boarded a train for Pennsylvania, where they would meet with other social revolutionaries to create a new organization that would prepare workers for what they saw as the hard and bitter struggle ahead. The Chicago militants joined other trade union delegates in Pittsburgh, where they announced the creation of the International Working People's Association (IWPA), a militant body dedicated to \"agitation for the purpose of organization [and] organization for the purpose of rebellion.\" The manifesto they addressed to the workingmen of America began by quoting Thomas Jefferson's \"justification for armed resistance\" in a situation \"when a long train of abuses and usurpations\" created an \"absolute despotism.\"42\n\nThe Pittsburgh Manifesto, written in part by August Spies and Johann Most, rejected formal political institutions as agencies of a propertied class that was becoming richer every day by stealing the labor of others. This system of exploitation of the laborer by the capitalist would continue until \"the misery of the wage-workers is forced to the extreme.\" There was no possibility of voluntary relief: \"all attempts in the past to reform this monstrous system by peaceable means, such as the ballot, have been futile, and all such future efforts must necessarily be so.\" 43\n\nSpies and Parsons returned to Chicago, distributed copies of the Pittsburgh Manifesto and organized about a dozen little clubs for the IWPA. But with business booming, the Knights of Labor fading from view and the socialist movement reduced to two small camps of warring sects, there seemed little likelihood that workers would notice, let alone respond to, the bold declarations of a few frustrated union militants with revolution on their minds.\n\nThe socialists realized that most workers in Chicago maintained ancestral loyalties to their own kind and endured their hardships with surprisingly little complaint; this passivity seemed especially pronounced among devout Catholics of peasant origin. Most of these wage earners, especially immigrants, remained intimidated by the police and the businessmen's militia and indebted to their employers and local patronage bosses for their jobs. They yearned for lives of security and comfort, not for futures filled with struggle and strife. Even the best socialist propagandist in the city, August Spies, had not overcome his fear that most workingmen were \"simply tools of custom\"\u2014 \"automatons incapable of thinking and reasoning for themselves.\" And even the best socialist agitator in the city, Albert Parsons, did not hide his fear that the new eight-hour movement was doomed to defeat by its enemies. \"I know,\" he said, \"that defenseless men, women and children must finally succumb to the power of the discharge, black-list and lockout . . . enforced by the militiaman's bayonet and the policeman's club.\"44\n\nAnd yet, despite their doubts and fears, Spies and Parsons remained active in the Knights of Labor and the eight-hour campaign because they wanted to be part of a broader class movement and not stand aloof from the mass of workers. Moreover, they had convinced themselves, against all sorts of discouraging evidence, that workers would rise up again, as they had in 1877, that workers would be impelled by forces they felt but did not wholly understand to move unconsciously and irresistibly toward social revolution. This, they believed, was the natural order of things, the logical outcome of the events they had witnessed during the violent years that had passed since they came to Chicago as young tradesmen hoping to improve themselves.\nChapter Seven\n\n _A Brutal and Inventive Vitality_\n\nNOVEMBER 1883\u2013OCTOBER 1885\n\nAT THE END OF 1883, Chicago's business was booming like never before. Every day 800 freight and passenger trains came and left the city's six busy terminals, hauling goods out and bringing people in. During the 1880s nearly 250,000 immigrants from Europe and Canada flooded the city looking for work in her roaring factories and mills. At this point, when labor was in high demand, the city contained forty foundries, fiftysix machine shops and five iron rolling mills, including the huge Union Steel Company on the edge of Bridgeport, where workers produced 180,000 tons of iron and steel rails each year during a decade of unprecedented railroad construction.1\n\nOverall, Chicago's industrial production advanced at a breakneck pace, multiplying twenty-one times during the decade. The net value of goods produced by the city's leading manufacturers leapt from $28 million to a staggering total of $760 million in these halcyon years when Chicago's economic growth set a pace that amazed the nation and the world. A spontaneously exploding center of force, it embodied, as few other places could, \"the brutal and inventive vitality of the nineteenth century.\"2\n\nNowhere was the creativity and brutality of \"rough-and-tumble business Chicago\" more obvious than in the slaughtering industry, where, as Saul Bellow wrote, progress was written \"in the blood of the yards.\" The \"revolutionary newness\" that made the city famous was indeed evident at the huge Union Stock Yards, where spectacular new forms of production and discipline yielded unprecedented outputs and profits. The city's largest meatpackers, Gustavus Swift and Philip Armour, were true business revolutionaries whose innovations in industrial methods helped make Chicago \"a world city.\"3\n\n_Map of Chicago during the early 1880s, showing prominent_ _industries, railroads and other important sites_\n\nArmour perfected the mechanized animal kill that became such a stunning spectacle to visitors, including writers like Rudyard Kipling, who later described the \"pig men\" who were \"spattered with blood\" and \"the cow butchers\" who \"were bathed in it\"\u2014all working in a fearful stench with a furious intensity. Mechanization took command early and effectively in meatpacking, but soon other industrialists were following the packers' lead.4\n\nThe results of this creative activity were spectacular for Armour's company, which led the industry's consolidation and expansion over the next decade. The size of the firm's workforce doubled and the value of product grew by 344 percent, ten times faster than wages increased. In just nine years Armour's profits leapt from $200,000 to $5.5 million.5\n\nWhen the depression ended, Armour's Irish and German butchers joined their fellow stockyard workers in demanding a larger share of the company's marvelous growth. Their leaders also wanted the employers to agree to hire union members first and not to discharge them without just cause. Some small packers agreed to these terms, but Armour would have none of it.6 He rejected the butchers' demands, locked out the union and reopened his plant with nonunion men. The strike leaders were blacklisted and never worked in the yards again.7\n\nThe city's skilled workers faced a vexing dilemma in 1883. Chicago employers paid higher wages than they could earn in other cities, but if they, the employees, demanded or even requested increases to compensate for the losses of the depression years or to keep up with the rising cost of fuel, food and housing, they met with stiff resistance. Employers like Philip Armour assumed that fixing wages, higher or lower, was a prerogative that came with ownership.\n\nThe union molders at McCormick Reaper Works had been more successful than most skilled workers in obtaining what they regarded as a living wage. Cyrus and Leander McCormick owned an extremely profitable business and paid relatively high wages; and, despite periodic strikes by union molders, the brothers retained the respect of their wage hands. Indeed, when the long depression ended, the McCormicks agreed to the union men's request to raise the wage rates they had reduced during the hard times.8\n\nIn 1880, Leander McCormick left the works after a feud with his brother Cyrus, who soon retired and put his twenty-one-year-old son Cyrus, Jr., in charge. Young McCormick immediately hired a new management team; but the men he entrusted with the direction of 1,200 restless factory workers lacked firsthand experience with a large industrial workforce. Hard feelings festered in the foundries and assembly shops. One employee wrote to the president and said the old hands were leaving because of harsh treatment: \"We are treated as though we are dogs,\" he moaned. 9\n\nCyrus, Jr., had attended Princeton, where he learned mathematics and economics. Applying this knowledge in 1881, he hired an accountant to calculate the firm's manufacturing costs per machine, along with the cost of labor per unit. The results appalled him so much that he established a new hard line on wages. When the union molders petitioned for a raise in 1882, McCormick's assistant superintendent told the men they were set on \"a suicidal course.\" As the molders' union gathered its strength and prepared for a long struggle, McCormick's managers began to explore ways of using machines to replace the union men.10\n\nCYRUS McCORMICK'S NEW SOLUTION to his problems with skilled union men was a strategy scores of other Chicago manufacturers had chosen by investing millions of dollars in new machinery to replace certain hand-workers and to speed up the pace of work for the rest\u2014all within a very short and decisive period from 1879 to 1884.11\n\n_McCormick Reaper Works on the Black Road in 1885, looking south_\n\nSome trades were devastated by the invasion of machines. In the slaughtering and packing industry, skilled butchers continued to give way to more advanced \"disassembly lines\" in larger and larger plants. Even small manufacturers mechanized their works, like one German sausage producer who let seventy-five of his workers go and replaced them with a single machine he claimed was more efficient than all of them combined. Owners of cooperages also installed new machines for making barrels that took the pride and joy out of the coopers' work, according to one craftsman. When English curriers struck in support of German tanners in 1882, the tannery owner imported whitening and fleshing machines that he planned to use to halve the workforce. After Irish brick makers waged a battle for higher wages that year, their employer introduced a machine that allowed an individual worker to make three times as many bricks in a day.12 Fights over wage rates had been erupting in Chicago shops off and on for years; it was simply a fact of industrial life. But mechanization hit the skilled trades with such suddenness that it shocked craftsmen and filled them with dread.\n\nNew machinery made the greatest impact in the trades where German immigrants were concentrated, such as woodworking and cigar making. The city's enormous army of carpenters also found their trade imperiled by contractors who bought windows, doors and other standardized wooden pieces made by machine and hired unskilled \"green hands\" to install them. Working for piece-rate wages, these installers were paid half the money earned by an experienced, all-around carpenter.13\n\nThe men who rolled cigars faced a similar threat. Proprietors of two sizable Chicago cigar shops installed newly invented machines operated by teenaged boys and girls who earned 50 cents to $1 a day. The producer could now have 1,000 cigars of the best brand made for $8 compared to the $18 it cost to pay union craftsmen to make the same batch by hand. In an analysis of the cigar industry, an _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ reporter calculated that the manufacturers' profits leapt 400 percent as a result of \"plundering\" their workers.14\n\nThe logic of capitalist enterprise made using machines instead of men an obvious choice for owners who could afford to mechanize. But among the craftsmen displaced by this logic a moral question remained: Would machines, driven by the endless hunger for profit, destroy a way of life that gave skilled workers a sense of pride in what they produced and gave the consumer a high-quality product as a result? Is this what progress meant? The German sausage makers insisted that machines could not do the work as well humans did, pointing out that bits of refuse remained inside the machine-made sausages. But such complaints seemed futile in the face of machinery's \"merciless advance.\"15 In story after story, _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ reporters revealed how machines ran the workers and how employers used machinery to tighten their control.16\n\nEven after craftsmen lost their autonomy and entered larger shops and factories, many retained a moral code that governed how they worked, how they treated one another and how they ensured the quality of their products. Cheaper \"green hands\" who could be pushed and rushed by the boss often botched jobs and turned out shoddy goods. During his travels, August Spies had seen common laborers accept this kind of abuse; it seemed to him nothing less than an intolerable affront to their manhood. No self-respecting craftsman would allow himself to be driven or intimidated at work.17\n\nBy the same token, proud American and European craftsmen viewed other forms of unskilled or menial labor as degrading. Some men and women worked side by side in bookbinding and tailoring shops, but male garment cutters could not imagine performing the women's work of sewing clothing. And no white workingman ever pictured himself doing the menial work assigned to \"colored\" men in service or to the despised \"Chinamen\" in the laundries. The corollary was that few of the white trades allowed access to women or men of color or to unskilled immigrants, except on a segregated basis. In the white world, however, self-reliant craftsmen often expressed \"a defiant sense of egalitarianism\" toward other men who acted as their superiors. Their code was based on a sense of self-worth gained through long apprenticeship and mature workmanship in an honorable trade. They believed their work was noble, even holy, and that they should be regarded romantically as \"knights of labor.\" Thus, manly workers refused to be put upon by their bosses or to accept any affront to their dignity. They also opposed efforts to pit them against one another. An honorable, respectable workingman did not steal work from his fellows or seek to undermine their customs and standards by rushing to please the boss or simply to make more money. Such were the ingredients of the craftsmen's code, traits that young and inexperienced workers who entered a trade were taught to honor and obey. 18\n\nThe habits that craftsmen cultivated were first expressed in the early benevolent societies based on the principle of mutual aid and then in the first craft unions their members called \"brotherhoods.\" These \"rituals of mutuality\" fused readily with the practices of democratic citizenship that evolved during the nineteenth century among white mechanics and workingmen who came to see themselves as the backbone of the republic.19\n\nBeing a skilled tradesman, a competent craftsman and an intelligent citizen required, above all, enlightenment through self-edification. Many craftsmen took pride in the breadth and depth of their reading, and appreciated what they learned from each other on the job. Cigar rollers sometimes asked a literate one among them to read a book or a newspaper aloud to them while they worked. Samuel Gompers, who heard passages from Marx's work from such a reader, wrote of his particular cigar shop as a little educational forum where he learned to think and speak critically. \"It was a world in itself, a cosmopolitan world,\" inhabited by shop mates from many strange lands, he recalled. Good cigar makers could roll the product carefully and effectively but more or less mechanically, which left them free to think, talk and listen to each other or to sing together. \"I loved the freedom of that work,\" Gompers recalled, \"for I had learned that mind freedom accompanied skill as a craftsman.\"20\n\nManufacturers exerted little control over the cigar makers, who worked by the piece, and some producers complained that many of their men would come into the shop in the morning, roll a few stogies and then go to a beer saloon and play cards for a few hours, willfully cutting the day's production and voluntarily limiting their own earnings. These irregular work habits appeared in other trades as well, for instance, among German brewers, who clung to their Old World privilege of drinking free beer while they worked in the breweries.21 Coopers would appear at work on Saturday morning, like all wage earners did in those years, and then, in some places, they would pool their pay and buy a \"Goose Egg,\" a half barrel of beer. \"Little groups of jolly fellows would often sit around upturned barrels playing poker . . . ,\" wrote a historian of cooperage, \"until they received their pay and the 'Goose Egg' was dry.\" After a night out on Saturday and an afternoon of drinking on Sunday, the coopers were not in the best condition to settle down to a regular day's work. They would then spend a \"blue Monday\" sharpening tools, bringing in supplies and discussing the news of the day.22\n\nInto this world, with its honored traditions, its irregular work habits and its rituals of mutuality came the machine. It rattled on relentlessly \"never tiring, never resting,\" wrote Michael Schwab, dragging the worker along with it.23 And behind the machine stood a man, an owner or a foreman, who regarded the craftsmen's stubborn old habits and craft union rules as nothing more than ancient customs, relics of medieval times in a modern world governed by the need for industrial efficiency and the unforgiving laws of political economy.\n\nTHE _ARBEITER-ZEITUNG_ offered detailed reports and analyses of these new developments in Chicago's workshops to its German readers. Many editorials simply pointed out how bosses were displacing good workers and \"plundering\" others because they were greedy capitalists; others were quite sophisticated. For example, in an 1883 article on \"How Wages Are Depressed,\" the author explained that \"big capital\" in Chicago had taken the lead in \"employing the latest technology and imposing the division of labor\" that came with it. The craftsman's skill and intelligence were no longer as valued and rewarded, and in many places he was reduced to the status of a day laborer who tolerated his situation until he could move up to a higher-paying job. The classification of workers within the same trade into various subordinate groups was destroying \"feelings of solidarity that existed within individual crafts.\" A new spirit reigned within the city's factories, the writer noted: \"Each man for himself, and the Devil take the hindmost.\" Moreover, existing trade unions that called themselves brotherhoods had failed to counter this self-serving attitude among employees in Chicago's big industries.24\n\nIn 1884 the city's small number of organized workers belonged to trade union locals affiliated with the city's Trades and Labor Assembly and with the young national Federation of Organized Trades and Labor Unions. Composed largely of skilled craftsmen, not common laborers, these trade unions were led by pragmatists increasingly irritated by the visionary Knights and by the socialists in their own ranks. They regarded their unions as ends in themselves, not as means to an end, not as a force for building solidarity among workers or for achieving a cooperative society such as the one envisioned by the social revolutionaries at the Pittsburgh Congress in 1883. \"We have no immediate ends,\" testified the president of the Cigar Makers' International Union that year. \"We are going from day to day. We fight only for immediate objects . . . that can be realized in a few years.\" 25\n\nThis careful posture seemed suicidal to many craftsmen in Chicago, who saw themselves being replaced by machines and \"green hands.\" By June of 1884 the German socialists in the Chicago Cigar Makers' Union had had enough of going from day to day; they broke with the national organization and formed a \"progressive\" cigar makers' local. For this act of rebellion, they were expelled from the city Trades Assembly. Within a few months the German renegades had inspired eight other breakaway unions to join them in creating a new Central Labor Union closely allied with the International Working People's Association and its objectives. The radical leaders of the new labor body accused the Trades Assembly of being \"a bogus labor organization\" led by businessmen, not by true union men; furthermore, its members were craft unionists who constituted an \"aristocracy of labor\" and who expressed concern only for their own welfare and not for the condition of the unskilled workers.26\n\nUnderlying these tensions over union politics were older religious and ethnic differences among Chicago's workers. Most leaders of craft unions tended to be English-speaking Protestants of American, Canadian and British origins, although some were Irish Catholics. Religious hostilities had cooled during the Civil War, and by the 1880s Christian workers of all denominations readily joined the same unions. The Knights of Labor even abandoned their secret rituals to avoid condemnation by Catholic cardinals and to open their order to once-despised \"papists.\" The social revolutionaries in Chicago took an opposite tack, alienating devout Catholics and Protestants alike by criticizing their clergymen and their beliefs and by calling their followers to secular meetings on Sundays. One of the few things the city's many ministers, missionaries, priests and rabbis agreed on was that the red internationals sounded terribly like the evil children of the godless French Jacobins and Communards.27\n\nAs the International Working People's Association extended its activities into the city's immigrant neighborhoods, Catholic priests in the German and Czech parishes swung into action against the heathens in their midst. The bishops of the church could be fairly sure that priests in Chicago's Polish and Irish parishes would keep their flocks inoculated against the infectious ideas spread by socialist subversives. Catholic clergymen were more worried that German and Bohemian Catholics were being seduced by freethinkers and socialist agitators.28\n\nProtestant ministers and missionaries expressed even more anxiety than Catholic priests about the spiritual lives of poor city dwellers. Even Chicago's famous soul saver, the greatest of all evangelists, Dwight L. Moody, despaired when his big revivals failed to attract the downtrodden. 29 In a best-selling book, Our Country, Josiah Strong, a Congregational minister with midwestern roots, expressed the growing fear among native-born Protestants that immigrant workers in the great industrial cities could no longer be contained within their slums, where \"volcanic fires of deep discontent\" smoldered. The dangerous classes seemed ready, at any moment, to sweep like a flood over the homes of respectable Christian people. The city churches were asleep, Strong charged, citing one section of Chicago where thousands of children lived \"without the gospel of Jesus Christ,\" a \"district of saloons and dago shops and other vile places,\" where many more children were arrested than attended Sunday School.30\n\nAs concerned clergymen like Josiah Strong fretted over losing souls to the inner city, working-class reformers and radicals suffused their speaking and writing with biblical parables and verses, which they used to chastise their oppressors and arouse the spirits of their followers. For example, George McNeill, a founder of the first eight-hour movement and an influential figure in the development of young Knights like Albert Parsons, believed that the workers' dream of an equitable life on earth was revealed in the gospels. The Bible foretold a time, McNeill wrote, when the \"Golden Rule of Christ would govern the relations of men in all their duties toward their fellows, in factory and work-shop, in the mine, in the field, in commerce, everywhere.\"31\n\nThis strain of Protestant millennialism even appeared in the speeches of August Spies, who admired the Protestant martyr Thomas Munzer and believed the Bible \"commanded equality and brotherhood among men on earth.\" Like most other nineteenth-century American radicals, the social revolutionaries felt compelled to illustrate their secular complaints with sacred texts and to connect their vision of a truly free society with the Christian image of a heaven on earth. Unlike the European anarchists, whose hostility to religion knew no bounds, the socialist internationals devoted little attention to the ministries of their clerical opponents. They had much larger quarry in their sights: the evil capitalists who lived, as they saw it, in a paradise of riches while they made life for Chicago's workers a hell on earth. 32\n\nWHILE NEW FORMS of mechanization and industrial discipline affected certain trades during the early 1880s, a massive calamity befell a far greater number of wage earners. Another depression enveloped Chicago late in 1883, and the hardships that followed proved far more severe than those experienced in the long depression that had ended just three years before.33\n\nOnce again social commentators appeared to analyze the causes and assign blame for the calamity, as they had a decade before, but now the criticisms came not only from voices of socialists and trade unionists but from the pens of journalists like the _Chicago Tribune_ 's famous business writer Henry Demarest Lloyd. The journalist no longer blamed the market for economic distress, but pointed his finger at railroad barons like Jay Gould who hoarded land and wealth and refused to raise wages or reduce hours for their wage hands. Henry George, author of the enormously influential book _Progress and Poverty,_ also accused railroad magnates like Gould of causing the nation's worst social problems. The wealth created by railroads allowed a few \"American pashas\" to count their income by the millions each month while their employees survived on $1.50 a day. Even in the wealthy state of Illinois, where the nation's railroads converged, workingmen could not earn enough for their daily bread and were forced to depend upon the labor of women and children to eke out an existence. \"The people are largely conscious of this,\" George observed, \"and there is among the masses much dissatisfaction.\"34\n\nNowhere in the nation were wage earners as conscious of the crisis as they were in Chicago; this had less to do with the sophisticated commentary of reformers like Lloyd and George than it did with the speeches of socialists like Albert and Lucy Parsons and the reports of journalists like August Spies and his new associate Michael Schwab.\n\nWhen Spies became editor of the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ in 1884, he sent Schwab into the streets of Chicago. Already well read and well traveled, the former bookbinder proved to be a tireless investigator, who exposed the city's dark side to tens of thousands of German-speaking workers. After a day in the South Side slums, he wrote of \"hovels where two, three and four families lived in one room with little ventilation and barely a stream of sunlight\" and of people he saw \"living from the ash barrels where they found half rotten vegetables and from offal they were given by local butchers.\" Pride kept the destitute from seeking aid, and so they were left \"deep in the shadows.\" He told a shocking tale of two cities: one city of overcrowded tenement houses and fetid streets where a smallpox epidemic took 2,000 lives, and another city of spacious mansions and well-groomed avenues where pedestrians caught the lake breezes. 35\n\nBesides exposing extremes of wealth and poverty in Chicago, the socialists insisted on dramatizing the contrast and moralizing about what it meant. On Thanksgiving Day, 1884, the International Working People's Association staged a \"poor people's march\" to expose the self-indulgence of wealthy people who gave thanks to God for their blessings and blamed the poor for their own sufferings. While grateful families ate turkey dinners that day, the International marched its cadre of workingmen and workingwomen through the cold streets carrying \"the emblem of hunger,\" the black flag. They proceeded through the fashionable thoroughfares of the city, said one police observer, with two women as standard-bearers carrying red and black flags, stopping before the residences of the wealthy and \"indulging in all sorts of noises, groans and cat calls.\"36\n\nThen the procession marched downtown to Market Street, where its leaders held forth. Albert Parsons began by saying, \"We assemble as representatives of the disinherited, to speak in the name of 40,000 unemployed working men in Chicago\" who had nothing for which to be thankful. To those who supped in their comfortable homes, he offered jeremiads, quoting first from the Epistle of James, Chapter 5, on the miseries that would come upon rich men when the treasures they heaped together for their last days became rusted and cankered, and then from the Old Testament prophet Habakkuk, who warned, \"Woe to him who buildeth a town by blood, and establisheth a city by iniquity.\"37\n\nHard times had returned to Chicago, but the consequent ordeal did not turn working people into socialists. In fact, unemployment depressed them and forced them to depend on local charities and patronage bosses, or to seek out saloonkeepers and police officers who might give them a place to sleep at night; and it often compelled them to beg for work and accept it on any terms the employer dictated. What roused many of the city's workers from a state of hopelessness was the incessant activity of the socialists, because they offered thousands of unemployed poor people a way to understand the crisis they experienced and to identify who was to blame.38 Albert Parsons, for one, delivered many lectures about why periodic panics occurred and why they were growing more frequent and intense. The main cause of the current crisis, he said in 1884, was overproduction caused by the race for profit. In this competition among capitalists who wanted to corner the market, wage earners were the first to suffer because, during business panics, wage cuts and layoffs would always be made in order to preserve profits. 39\n\nAnd yet social revolutionaries like Parsons believed that beyond the current crisis there was hope for the future. Insufferable conditions were making workers more conscious of common class interests. As a result, despite the many differences that divided them and the many delusions that clouded their thinking, wage earners would come together. When they did, workers would feel their power and grasp the possibility of creating a new cooperative society to replace the old competitive order. 40\n\nIN THE EARLY 1880S, few American social commentators, other than the socialists, believed class consciousness could emerge in the United States, because of its open frontier, its endless opportunities for entrepreneurs and its vaunted democracy. Class hatred existed in Europe, but in America it existed only in the minds of deluded socialists. In 1883, however, some leading citizens remarked on an alarming deterioration of relations between a huge population of laborers and a tiny population of employers, investors, bankers and lawyers. Some even found themselves using the language of class to describe what they saw and felt in testimony before the United States Senate Committee Upon the Relations Between Labor and Capital.41\n\nWhen asked by commissioners about the state of feeling between the laboring class and the employing class, the _Chicago Tribune_ 's Joseph Medill said that a general feeling of distrust and dissatisfaction existed and was increasing fast enough to pose a serious threat to the country. \"The trades unions of this country are feeling more and more dissatisfied with their position, and they are developing more and more of what might be called a communistic feeling\u2014a tendency or desire to resort to what might be called revolutionary or chaotic methods for rectifying things. They are not satisfied with their division of the profits of business, and they look at the enormous and sudden acquirement of fortunes by a few speculators with feelings of anger.\"42\n\nMedill blamed these hard feelings on strikes by \"trades union people\" who seemed in unanimous agreement that employers could afford to pay higher wages without increasing prices, and that the bosses refused out of \"pure selfishness.\" Given this regrettable bias among union men, said Medill, it was no wonder that worker protests threatened \"to rend the social fabric\" and that every strike seemed like \"a species of civil war.\"43\n\nThe situation Medill described seemed particularly acute in Chicago, where he expected trade union people to cause a good deal of trouble in the coming years. The first sign of the big trouble to come appeared at the McCormick Reaper Works, where the union iron molders angrily grumbled over a 10 percent wage cut young Cyrus had imposed even though the company had earned record profits the previous fall. When some of the workers struck on March 16, 1885, McCormick's general manager discharged men in the wood department to intimidate the rest of the workforce; he also ordered crews to build barracks inside the plant gates to house strikebreakers around the clock. Meanwhile, a call went out for nonunion molders, who were offered protection from the strikers by guards hired from the Pinkerton Detective Agency, headquartered in Chicago.\n\nThe agency's founder, Allan Pinkerton, had become renowned eight years earlier when he hired a spy, James McParlan, to infiltrate the Molly Maguires, a militant cadre of Irish coal miners who had been fighting a guerrilla war against mine operators and their hired gunmen in Pennsylvania. Pinkerton's famous informer testified against the Mollies in a murder trial that sent ten mineworkers to the gallows on June 21, 1877. The hangings provided a stunning demonstration of the state's power to impose the ultimate penalty on militant workers, and it left a haunting memory of \"Molly after Molly walking to the gallows in the pale light of dawn, often holding a single rose sent by a wife or girl friend.\" This terrible day of retribution was known as Black Thursday not only in Irish mining patches but in urban ghettos across the land, places like Bridgeport in Chicago, where crowds of Irish iron molders and their supporters encountered the hated \"Pinks\" at the McCormick works in the winter of 1885.44\n\nYoung McCormick had made the decision to cut wages with no understanding of the possible consequences; nothing he had learned at Princeton or as an understudy to his father (who had died the previous year) had \"given him any insight into the feelings or the temper of the 1,400 men who labored in his factory.\"45 McCormick also failed to realize that hiring Pinkerton gunmen to protect strikebreakers would infuriate the Irish residents of Bridgeport. Indeed, confrontations between the strikers and the agents quickly turned violent. During one set-to, Pinkerton's men fired off a few rounds from their Winchesters, seriously wounding several people, including some bystanders. The police viewed this action as cowardly and arrested four of the private guards, who were later charged with manslaughter, but McCormick's general manager wrote in despair that, while most of the men wanted to keep working, a \"fighting Irish element\" was ready to knock down and beat anyone who wanted to work and not a policeman would stir a hand to offer protection.46\n\nA climactic struggle erupted at the plant gates on April 28, 1885, when the Pinkertons failed to hold their ground after strikers attacked trolleys full of strikebreakers headed for the plant. The union forces then assaulted a busload of Pinkertons, beat them with fists and clubs, burned their vehicle and seized a case of rifles intended for use in guarding the factory. One of the agents reported back to the agency's downtown office that the attack on the guards was the work of Irishmen employed as molders and helpers, \"nearly all members of the Ancient Order of Hibernians, who have the most bitter enmity against the Agency since the hanging of the Molly Maguires in Pennsylvania.\"47\n\nIn 1885 many of the Irish workers employed at McCormick's were members not only of the Hibernians but also of the radical Land League and the secret Clan-Na-Gael, whose nationalist cadre, led by Chicago's Alexander Sullivan, had begun bombing government buildings in London. Both organizations were condemned as communistic by Catholic clergy, just as the Mollies had been condemned; nonetheless, all three groups remained popular among Irish workingmen in Chicago. Although the anarchism of the International won very little support in the city's poor Irish parishes, Catholic laborers displayed passionate attraction to various forms of radicalism, including currency and land reform, as well as cooperation. All this developed alongside a growing nationalism spurred by the war for land in colonial Ireland.48\n\nThe Catholic Church governed the religious practices of the Irish, just as the Democratic Party determined their voting habits, but neither parish priests nor ward bosses were able to control working-class militants or radical nationalists (they were often one and the same) as their activities escalated in the mid 1880s. In 1885, German anarchist workers and Irish nationalist workers at McCormick's swam in different streams of radicalism, but early in the following year, the two streams would join at the big farm machinery plant on the South Branch of the Chicago River.\n\nIn the midst of the April crisis in 1885, McCormick appealed to Mayor Carter Harrison for more police so that the plant could run at full capacity. The mayor refused, and instead called for a settlement of the dispute. He also praised the union negotiating committee, even though it included labor leaders the company regarded as prime movers in the disturbance. McCormick still refused to meet with the men in a body and insisted that the wage cut was necessitated by the business depression. At this point Chicago industrialists became alarmed that the rising tide of union defiance would produce a general strike. Philip Armour firmly advised Cyrus, Jr., to give in to the men because the strike was becoming an \"open war.\" 49\n\n_Cyrus McCormick, Jr._\n\nAt the risk of losing face in the business community, McCormick withdrew the wage cut he had imposed on his unionized craftsmen. The skilled molders refused to accept the offer, however, unless it was extended to the less skilled piece-rate men and unless all strikebreakers were removed from the works. McCormick again relented, but the harrowing experience convinced him that he must rid the works of the union molders by replacing them with machines.\n\nAfter the settlement, Cyrus McCormick received a letter of rebuke from his mother, the estimable Nettie Fowler McCormick, who had run the works for a time after her husband retired. She had turned the company over to her son and then devoted her time to philanthropy, but from far away in Philadelphia she kept an eye on things at the reaper works. After the plant reopened, she wrote to Cyrus, Jr., with \"a sore heart\" that his actions were \"all wrong\" and that the violent strike had damaged the family's relations with its workmen. As a result, trouble had come to hundreds of families and in consequence \"fierce passions\" had been aroused.50\n\nEmboldened by the union molders' triumph over McCormick and the Pinkertons, iron-ore shovelers in the nearby docks struck, as did printers and rolling-mill workers, and even hospital nurses. As this surge of worker militancy gathered force, news came of a horrible tragedy in the quarries just south of the city near Lemont.\n\nWhen quarry workers walked out to protest a wage cut and employers imported strikebreakers, large crowds arrived to block the replacement workers. Local authorities, overmatched by the strike force, called on the governor to send in the militia. Richard Oglesby, who had been elected to another term in 1884, reluctantly gave the order. Soon after the troops arrived in Lemont, the general in charge wired the governor to report that A. R. Parsons, the \"Chicago communist,\" was there inciting the strikers and plotting to \"organize a commune.\" The agitator had apparently failed in these efforts, but he remained in Lemont to cover the story for his anarchist newspaper.51\n\nOn May 4, Parsons saw a crowd of quarry workers confront the militiamen who were protecting strikebreakers. When the strikers cast stones at the troopers, the troopers fired their Winchesters into the assembly, killing two men instantly and wounding many others. Parsons described the scene in an enraged newspaper report. \"The shrieks of wounded and dying men filled the air,\" he wrote, \"the warm blood of the people bathed the flagstones of the sidewalks.\" The shootings at Lemont made an indelible impression on Parsons and confirmed his belief that \"without arms and organization, the worker is left to the mercy of those who rob, murder and enslave him.\"52\n\nOn May 20 a group of social revolutionaries met in Chicago to condemn the militia for the killings at Lemont; they also vowed to organize themselves into an armed company to defend workers against the militia and to establish \"a school on chemistry\" where the manufacture and use of explosives would be taught. One speaker went far beyond this call for armed self-defense. A _Tribune_ reporter reportedly heard \"Citizeness\" Lucy Parsons make threats \"redolent with gore,\" which she directed at the militiamen and at the men whose interests they served. She even called for a \"war of extermination\" against the rich, saying, \"Let us devastate the avenues where the wealthy live as Sheridan devastated the beautiful valley of the Shenandoah.\"53\n\nThe deaths at Lemont gave the anarchists fresh text for a storm of leaflets they dropped on the city. These circulars helped swell their meetings, but failed, one journalist noted, to create any great disturbance. In fact, when such a disturbance did erupt, the anarchists had little to do with it. It came on the city's West Side during the sweltering month of July, when streetcar drivers and conductors, who were predominantly Irish Catholic, quit work to protest the sacking of fifteen union leaders who had demanded a wage increase. The company was an unpopular monopoly, so the strikers easily won public sympathy as West Siders, male and female, young and old, walked to and from their homes boycotting the line, while fervently hoping the car men would win.54\n\nMayor Carter Harrison joined the Knights of Labor in urging arbitration, but the president of the company said there was nothing to arbitrate, because, if the union men were reinstated, it would imply that the company could not dictate who should be hired or fired. The mayor found himself pressured as never before, as businessmen protested that the city was threatened with anarchy and insisted that the police take forceful action against strikers who controlled the streets and made moving the cars impossible. On the second day of the confrontation, company and city officials held a war council and devised a systematic plan to break the back of the strike and reopen the West Side line. Mayor Carter Harrison attended the secret meeting and voiced his concerns about the planned police action, but at the end of the day, he consented to it.55\n\nSERVING HIS FOURTH consecutive term as mayor of Chicago, Carter Henry Harrison was widely regarded as the most popular and effective big-city mayor of his era. A much-loved figure in the city's immigrant wards, saloons and trade union halls, he was personally responsible for keeping the city's warring tribes at bay.\n\nCarter Harrison was an unlikely populist hero. A Kentucky gentleman who lived in a grand house on Ashland Avenue, he dressed in silk vests, smoked the best Havana cigars, read literature in German and French and quoted Shakespeare from memory. He was thoroughly at ease with members of the city's aristocracy of wealth, whose interests and concerns he readily understood. Towering above all other Democrats, he managed to keep the city's corrupt patronage system from destroying public trust in city government. He was not personally corrupt, but he accepted and tolerated the \"bummer\" councilmen, the gamblers, the saloonkeepers and the policemen who protected their interests. The city's big newspaper editors hated him for it and generally accused him of \"being responsible for all the filth in the community.\"56\n\nA few businessmen and bankers realized, however, that Mayor Harrison had exhibited rare political genius following his election in 1879. He had co-opted leading socialists into his administration. He then created a labor-friendly regime that helped cast the Socialistic Labor Party into oblivion. Moreover, he restored social peace after five harrowing years of civil strife.57\n\n_Mayor Carter H. Harrison_\n\nCarter Harrison was a naturally gifted politician who loved \"pageantry and display of almost any kind\"\u2014marching bands and ethnic parades, Irish wakes and high masses, German folk festivals and socialist picnics. He attended them all, usually riding upon his white thoroughbred horse and wearing a black felt hat tilted rakishly to the side. He was extremely insensitive to criticism and could be tactless around influential men, but these traits, along with \"bubbling geniality,\" his \"sense of fair play\" and his \"social insight,\" put him \"in touch with the desires and aspirations of the masses.\"58\n\nUnlike his predecessors, Harrison recognized that Chicago was a foreign city, and he made the most of it. He spoke some German and a little Swedish, claimed Norwegian and Irish roots, and knew something about Bohemia from his European travels. He was a truly cosmopolitan man. \"Harrison,\" the _Tribune_ observed, \"is American only through an accident of birth.\" He was also a crafty urban politico who earned and maintained the trust of Chicago's immigrants.59\n\nHarrison presided over a city with a huge working class of people who had endured a terribly long depression and now faced a second one. He knew that many of these people resented the high-handed editors who chastised the poor, and despised the hard-driving employers who turned the Pinkertons and police loose on their own employees. It was not surprising to Carter Harrison that skilled agitators like Spies and Parsons found an audience in the city's working-class wards. The mayor was quite familiar with the socialists; he read their newspapers, observed their rallies and heard their speeches. They fancied themselves orators, he later recalled, and often \"talked like damn fools,\" but they did not seem like dangerous men. Better to let them speak than to arouse popular wrath by closing their newspapers and banning them from the streets.60\n\nHarrison had succeeded year after year, performing like a seasoned ringmaster in Chicago's human circus, but as he took office for a fourth term in May 1885, the mayor was a weakened leader. He had gained reelection by a razor-thin margin of 375 votes, and now he waited as the Republicans challenged the election results in court. In the meantime, the Citizens' Association issued a report that denounced the police for their \"flagrant neglect of duty\" during the strike at McCormick's and accused the mayor of being afraid to anger \"any large body of rioters\" for fear of losing their votes. In fact, the votes Harrison feared losing were those of businessmen and property owners, who helped provide him with the popular mandate he needed to keep the peace and attempt to govern an ungovernable city.61\n\nHARRISON MAINTAINED HIS balancing act as usual during the first few months after his reelection, but then, on July 2, 1885, he lost control of the forces under his command. Before dawn that day 400 police officers reported to the Desplaines Street Station near the Haymarket to hear orders from their field commander, Captain John Bonfield, who was determined to break the strike of the streetcar drivers on the West Side line. City officials needed a hard man to head the strikebreaking force, and they found him in Bonfield, a failed businessman who had joined the force in 1877, just in time to see action in the great uprising that summer. He saw riot duty in Bridgeport, where he was humiliated after being disarmed and beaten by a gang of strikers. Following this traumatic incident, the ambitious Bonfield rose rapidly in the force. After being promoted to lieutenant, he was assigned to the West 12th Street Station, not far from where the Great Chicago Fire had started in 1871; this was a frontier police station in the midst of the sprawling Second Precinct, one that included Pilsen and the polyglot Southwest Side, home to more than 30,000 immigrant working people. Located in the heart of what the police called \"the terror district,\" it was a command center during the violent summers of 1876 and 1877, when the lumber shovers' strike and the railroad workers' uprising \"were so admirably repressed,\" in the words of the police department's historian. It was here that Lieutenant Bonfield won fame by putting the nation's first system of call boxes on street corners, so that patrol wagons could quickly be called into action when trouble began in a precinct where \"scarcely a month passed without some kind of demonstration, strike or riot.\"62\n\nBonfield joined the Chicago Police Department in 1877, just before it emerged as the nation's first effective antistrike force, acting with a lethal effectiveness unmatched in any other city. But during the early 1880s the influence of Irish trade unionists and politicians on the mayor kept the police at bay during strikes. The force was so unreliable in the eyes of many large employers that they equipped small armies of militiamen as reserve forces or hired private guards to protect strikebreakers. In Captain John Bonfield, these employers found a man who would change all that. 63\n\nAs morning light broke and the temperature rose on July 3, Bonfield's lead patrols found Madison Street lined with people looking as though they expected a great procession to pass. The captain ordered his men to keep people moving, but the crowds were too dense to budge. Many people on the streets, local residents and passengers as well as union workers of all sorts, came out to support the car men. Others in the throng appeared simply to witness what promised to be an especially exciting episode in the ongoing drama unfolding on Chicago's turbulent streets.\n\nIn spite of the crowds that grew as the morning passed, Bonfield moved ahead with his plan to open the line by sending in nine horsecars loaded with a huge body of 400 policemen he had gathered. Very soon after the convoy got under way from the Madison Street barn at the city's western limits, it halted before a barricade of lumber, gas pipe, cobblestones and beer kegs. \"As fast as the police removed these obstructions others were raised,\" wrote one journalist. This method of street warfare seemed \"so decidedly Parisian and communistic in character\" that the captain assumed anarchists were responsible.64\n\n_Captain John Bonfield_\n\nBonfield, a \"large, powerful, resolute, ruthless man,\" believed that unarmed crowds could be dispersed by a sizable, well-trained force of men ready and willing to club protesters into submission. The patrolmen could carry revolvers, but if they executed their captain's tactical instructions with disciplined brutality, they could prevail without using firearms. 65\n\nEnraged by the blockades, Bonfield ordered his men into action as the convoy moved slowly down Madison Street toward the city. Officers were seen wading into the crowds lining the street, their \"clubs descending right and left like flails,\" said one observer, \"and men falling before them, often frightfully injured.\" The captain led the assault, beating down an elderly man who did not respond to his order to fall back. When some construction workers pitched shovels of dirt in front of the cars, the captain ordered them arrested. Two of them questioned Bonfield, and he beat them until they lost consciousness (one worker suffered permanent brain damage). Using these tactics, policemen cleared the streets and opened the line by nightfall, after taking 150 prisoners.66\n\nThe next day, the Fourth of July, Chicagoans flocked to their picnics and baseball games, but West Siders still seethed with anger over the brutal assault they had witnessed the day before. Some of them even left the holiday celebrations and joined several thousand workers on the lakefront, where the International Working People's Association held its own Fourth of July celebration. Various speakers, including August Spies, denounced Bonfield's \"vicious attack\" on the citizenry and, according to one report, \"advised streetcar men and all other workingmen to buy guns and fight for their rights like men.\"67\n\nLooking back on these events eight years later, and trying to explain why the Haymarket tragedy occurred, the governor of Illinois, John Peter Altgeld, offered a historical explanation. For a number of years prior to the bombing and the riot, there had been serious labor troubles, he wrote. There were strikes in which \"some of the police not only took sides against the men, but, without any authority of law, invaded and broke up peaceable meetings.\" And in many cases, officers \"brutally clubbed people who were guilty of no offense whatever.\" In the most notorious case, the invasion of a Harmonia Society meeting in 1877, one young man was shot through the back of the head; and in the streetcar strike on the West Side eight summers later, Governor Altgeld noted, \"some of the police, under the leadership of Captain John Bonfield, indulged in a brutality never equaled before.\" After the police assault on the West Side, leading citizens prayed for the dismissal of Bonfield, but, \"on account of his political influence, he was retained.\" (Indeed, a few months after the strike, Mayor Harrison had promoted the notorious captain to chief inspector, arousing the fury of organized labor.) In other cases, the governor continued, laboring people had been shot down in cold blood by Pinkerton men\u2014some were even killed when they were running away\u2014 and yet none of the murderers were brought to justice. \"The laboring people found the prisons always open to receive them,\" he concluded, \"but the courts were practically closed to them.\"68\n\nAfter reviewing the bloody history that preceded the violent clash in the Haymarket, Governor Altgeld drew what seemed to him an obvious lesson: \"While some men may tamely submit to being clubbed and seeing their brothers shot down,\" he observed, \"there are some who will resent it, and will nurture a spirit of hatred and seek revenge for themselves.\" 69\n\nDURING THE FALL of 1885 a cloud of class hatred hung over Chicago; it seemed as thick as the smoke that darkened its streets. Yet no one in the resentful ranks of the working class, not even the bombastic speakers of the socialist International, took revenge against the police and the Pinkertons. Instead, the social revolutionaries urged workers to join a mass movement for radical change and to arm themselves for the next confrontation with the forces of repression. The next time Bonfield's blue-coated \"clubbers\" and Pinkerton's \"blackguards\" moved against strikers, the workers of Chicago would be ready for them. They would be prepared to defeat the armed forces sent against them with the best weapons they could find. Moreover, they would be prepared to act against the powerful men who ordered the policemen around like hunters calling out their bloodhounds. Workers would be prepared, in other words, to carry out the \"social revolution.\"\n\nThe social revolutionaries seemed to be everywhere in the city that troubled summer and fall\u2014on the lakefront where they held \"high carnival\" every Sunday, in picnic groves where they delivered angry speeches, on the downtown streets where they led mass marches and demonstrations. They were, noted one alarmed observer, \"free to come and go as they pleased, to hold meetings, parade in the streets, to expose their sentiments . . . to dispense their poisonous doctrines, to breed discontent.\" 70\n\nBy the end of 1885, Chicago's working-class districts were seething with discontent, and the socialists were doing their utmost to incubate it, but they were not its only breeders.\nChapter Eight\n\n _The International_\n\nNOVEMBER 1885\u2013DECEMBER 1885\n\nAS THE TUMULTUOUS MONTHS of 1885 drew to a close, the Chicago Internationals looked back on a year of astonishing progress. They had enrolled nearly 1,000 core members into fifteen groups or clubs in the poor neighborhoods of Chicago ranging from the North Side to the South Side areas of Bohemian Pilsen and Irish Bridgeport. The IWPA expanded in other cities as well, but by 1885 one-fifth of all its members lived in Chicago, where the association had attracted 5,000 to 6,000 sympathizers, most of whom were immigrant workers recruited to militant trade unions grouped together in the Central Labor Union, with a membership of 20,000 that rivaled that of the established Trades Assembly.1\n\nNearly all the workers who joined the International or supported it read the newspapers published by the Socialistic Publishing Company. A year after August Spies became editor of the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ in 1884, the German daily reached a circulation of 20,000, matching that of the Republican _Staats-Zeitung._ The society also printed an English paper, the _Alarm,_ edited by Albert and Lucy Parsons, and unleashed a blizzard of literature in 1885, including speeches by Albert and Lucy Parsons, the writings of Marx and Engels, Bakunin and Johann Most, as well as thousands of copies of the Pittsburgh Manifesto translated into German, Czech and French.2\n\nThe blossoming of the International in Chicago owed something to serendipity. The severity of the depression and the rapidity of mechanization, the hostile activity of Cyrus McCormick, Jr., and his riflebearing Pinkertons, as well as the brutality of Captain John Bonfield and his club-wielding police divisions\u2014all of these experiences generated potential recruits for the insurgent movement within Chicago's various immigrant working-class districts. But what transformed that discontent into social protest was the \"intrusion of subversive propagandists.\"3 The International's surprising growth in Chicago came about because socialist agitators, particularly Spies and Parsons, possessed the ability to articulate workers' grievances, as well as the unflagging energy it took to engage in relentless political activity. No other American city had ever witnessed anything like the agitation the Internationals created.\n\nON APRIL 28, 1885, the day strikers routed the Pinkertons at McCormick's, the IWPA conducted an audacious protest over the dedication of the palatial new Board of Trade Building. Elaborate and gorgeous ceremonies were planned that night to open this majestic monument to Chicago's economic power. The building dominated the financial district at the end of LaSalle Street with its 310-foot clock tower. Thick granite walls punctured by the austere stained-glass windows of the trading floor gave a churchlike look to this \"temple of commerce.\" To critics like the journalist Henry Demarest Lloyd, however, the Board of Trade seemed like \"a great gambling shop,\" where syndicates of traders cheated the market to keep commodities scarce and prices dear. The fixing of prices for essential commodities like bread invited big trouble, he feared. In a famous article, \"Making Bread Dear,\" Lloyd warned that just such \"crimes\" had provoked the _sans-culottes_ of Paris to take to the streets and ignite the French Revolution.4\n\nBefore marching to LaSalle Street, the Internationals rallied, as usual, in Market Street, where they heard Albert Parsons describe the Board of Trade as \"a Board of Thieves\" and a \"robber's roost,\" and, according to a police reporter, declare that the new building ought to be blown up. When he finished, the band struck up \"La Marseillaise,\" the anthem of the French Revolution, and then Parsons linked arms with August Spies to lead the march downtown. Lucy Parsons and Lizzie Swank joined them in the lead, holding their red flags on lofty poles. As they marched toward the Board of Trade Building, the band's music and the marchers' shouts bounced around in the canyons formed by the tall, dark stone buildings. Curious spectators lined the sidewalks, and some of them fell in line with the marchers. The Internationals had become the most engaging troupe performing in Chicago's colorful theater of urban life.\n\nThe protesters never reached their destination that afternoon, because they were stopped and turned away by a formidable squad of 200 policemen. Many of the marchers, expecting a police assault, had armed themselves, but thanks to a cool-headed police captain, William Ward, no conflict erupted because the captain kept his men in line and persuaded Spies to turn his followers around.5\n\nGaudy demonstrations and tense confrontations of this kind made exciting news and attracted enormous public attention, not only from downtown businessmen, but also from workingmen in the factory districts. But in the working-class precincts of the city, it took more than street-level theatrics to convert wage-earning people to socialism; it took hour after hour of serious political and philosophical discussion.6\n\nIWPA club meetings were organized so that various members would present thirty-minute prepared talks on assigned topics, to be followed by comments and discussion. Thus, the socialist clubs served as arenas for group learning and for individual intellectual growth, as well as settings in which to recruit new members among workers who had enjoyed little schooling. Each group elected its own librarian and allocated funds to buy literature. Members could also borrow books from the central library located at the Arbeiter-Zeitung offices on Fifth Avenue.7 Some of the more educated Internationals also volunteered to instruct children in socialist \"Sunday Schools,\" partly in response to aggressive efforts made by Catholic priests in German and Bohemian parishes to recapture the souls of wayward immigrant children. The socialist instructors offered such children \"reading, writing, natural history, geography, literature, general history and morality,\" and as much of \"ethics as young minds are capable of receiving.\" 8 Of course, these instructors also taught their pupils about socialism and, more specifically, about what they called anarchism.\n\nAT SOME POINT in 1884 the militant socialists of Chicago began identifying themselves as anarchists. This caused confusion among observers as well as among members of the International, because the movement's leader, August Spies, insisted he remained a follower of Marx, and not of Marx's anarchist enemy, Bakunin. It was true that Spies and his Chicago comrades had given up hope of finding a peaceful path to socialism via elections and legislative changes, that they had broken decisively with their former comrades in the Socialistic Labor Party. Yet the Internationals continued to label their publications socialist in 1885, because they adhered to Marx's belief that capitalism would be destroyed by its own contradictions and by the inevitable emergence of a class-conscious movement of workers prepared to abolish private property along with the forms of government that sanctioned and protected it. The Chicago militants thought of themselves as socialists of the anarchist type\u2014that is, as revolutionaries who believed in liberating society from all state control, whether capitalist or socialist. Anarchists proclaimed that true freedom in a socialist society could be gained in self-governing communities and workplaces where working people determined their rights and responsibilities democratically, without the domination of a powerful national state with its judges and laws, its police forces and armies. This was the freedom anarchy promised, said Albert Parsons, in contrast to the vision of his old socialist party comrades, who still embraced \"State Socialism,\" which meant \"the government controlled everything.\" 9\n\nArbeiter-Zeitung _building_\n\nJohann Most, the world's leading anarchist in 1885, exerted a strong hold on Parsons, Spies and the Chicago Internationals, but they did not fully embrace his view that individual acts of violence would provoke a revolution; indeed, they faithfully adhered to the lesson they had learned from Karl Marx: that socialism could be achieved only through the collective power of workers organized into aggressive trade unions\u2014the \"great lever by which the working class will be emancipated.\" The anarchists imagined militant workers' organizations as more than movement building blocks; these unions could be \"the living germs of a new social order which would replace the bourgeois world,\" or, as Parsons put it, the \"embryonic\" groups of a future \"free society.\" 10\n\nThis concept of revolutionary unionism, later known as \"the Chicago idea,\" appealed to European artisans like Michael Schwab who were familiar with the watchmakers and other artisans in Europe who embraced Pierre-Joseph Proudhon's anarchist ideas about free association and mutual aid. A few of them had even put these cooperative ideas into practice in their own shops and benefit societies. The notion of workshops controlled by intelligent craftsmen was not a utopian dream to them. Furthermore, the idea that artisans, shopkeepers and other ordinary citizens could govern a city was not simply a theoretical possibility, because this, they knew, was precisely what the people of Paris had done with some success during the days after they created the Commune in 1871.11\n\nAmerican craftsmen like Parsons were also quite familiar with practical experiments in cooperative production and exchange, because the Knights of Labor and, on a much larger scale, the Farmers' Alliance were busy creating them all over the country in 1885. Through these efforts, the popular movements of the time instilled a new kind of collective selfconfidence in working people and a new kind of hope that they could reconstruct the economy on a democratic basis. Thus, the dream of a self-governing community of equal producers articulated by Parsons and the Chicago anarchists had something in common with the idea of a cooperative commonwealth embraced by labor reformers and agrarian populists in the 1880s.12\n\nIn any case, Parsons and his fellow agitators devoted themselves far more to practical activity\u2014writing, speaking, agitating and organizing\u2014 than they did to creating coherent revolutionary theory. The Chicago anarchists applied Marx's axioms when they seemed to explain what was happening before their eyes, but they also salted their speeches and pamphlets with songs and mottoes from the French Revolution and the Declaration of the Rights of Man; from the writings of Proudhon, who believed property was theft; and from the anarchist pronouncements of Mikhail Bakunin and Johann Most.\n\nThe Chicago anarchists also drew inspiration from American revolutionaries: from Thomas Paine, the most influential of all propagandists; from Thomas Jefferson, who proclaimed the right and the duty to rebel against unjust authority; from Patrick Henry, whose words \"Give me liberty or give me death\" were often quoted; and from John Brown, the most heroic of all revolutionary martyrs. Albert Parsons, though raised in the slave South, considered himself an abolitionist at heart; that is why he devoted himself to winning political rights for emancipated blacks, why he never abandoned the language of Radical Republicanism he acquired in Texas and why he often cited John Brown and other abolitionists in his attacks on \"wage slavery.\" 13 In the process of cooking this stew of radical ideas, the Internationals of Chicago invented a peculiar, in some ways American, brand of revolutionary socialism they called anarchism.\n\nParsons once wrote that the Chicago socialists initially accepted the anarchist label in defiance of their enemies who branded them with the name, but this bizarre explanation may have reflected his own pugnacious personality. In any case, adopting such a political identity seemed virtually self-defeating, because, to most Americans, anarchy simply meant chaos, violence and disorder. The word had been used, for example, to describe Paris in the last horrible days of the Commune and Pittsburgh in 1877, when enraged crowds surrounded the militia and set fire to the railyards. Anarchy was even thought to have appeared in the Arizona Territory, where, as one newspaper had it, the \"savage\" Apaches, \"the Reds of America,\" fought to preserve their \"communal system of government.\"14\n\nThe anarchists, however, regarded such outbreaks of violence as unnatural behavior provoked entirely by the oppressive actions of the state and the forces of private capital. They argued that anarchy, a society without a state, was natural to humanity, as compared to monarchy, the kind of rule that still prevailed in Europe, or as compared to democracy as it had evolved in the United States. Even with an elected government, they insisted, American citizens could be tyrannized by the police and the army just as they were in Europe. They lived in a society that called itself a democracy, but it was a sad state in which lords of industry behaved like monarchs who mocked democracy with their imperious actions.15 In the midst of the \"great barbecue\" held by the robber barons and politicos of the Gilded Age, agitators could produce plenty of evidence that money and influence had polluted the great republic, if not poisoned it to death. 16\n\nSTILL, IT WAS a daunting endeavor, this anarchist effort to create an alternative intellectual and moral world in a city devoted to the pursuit of private property and personal wealth, a place that thrived on speculation and competition of every kind, a city that epitomized American capitalism. At times, Parsons and other movement evangelicals saw themselves acting out roles played by the early apostles of Jesus Christ as they led a sect of true believers out of a wilderness of sin and corruption. In fact, the anarchists were atheists, or at least freethinkers, who regarded organized religion as little more than a drug clergymen gave workers in order to pacify them. Yet, for all their contempt for churchmen, Christian charity and Victorian decency, the anarchists of Chicago were men and women who believed in monogamous marriage and craved respectable home lives. No talk of free love was heard among them. But this did not mean the anarchists were joyless puritans. In fact, they indulged in endless entertainments and celebrations and made performing, singing and dancing essential ingredients of their social and cultural lives. 17\n\nEach year the anarchists' festive calendar began with the annual commemoration of the Paris Commune in March and continued until the Oktoberfest, when the dark beer arrived. By 1885, Die Commune Fieren had become too large to contain in a single hall, so the IWPA organized two memorials in Turner halls on the North and West sides that attracted international crowds. The Czechs sponsored their own \"Paris Communal\" at a new hall in Pilsen. The anarchists paid no attention to Easter and Passover, and instead eagerly waited for the spring Maifest, which came along with the bock beer. May 1 festivities inaugurated a high season of excursions, picnics, pageants, concert performances and poetry readings, as well as colorful demonstrations, parades and mass meetings on the lakefront, where city officials allowed the anarchists to congregate outdoors every Sunday. Come summertime, the IWPA groups and local unions picnicked together whenever possible\u2014often at the conclusion of a rally and march to Ogden's Grove on the North Side, where there would be a great deal of sausage to eat and beer to drink along with a lot of dancing and singing to enjoy after the speeches ended.18\n\nThe Fourth of July, the one public holiday all Americans celebrated in the nineteenth century, was a grand occasion everywhere. The anarchists used the holiday to interpret the Declaration of Independence their own way and to honor their own red flag, not a star-spangled banner. \"The flag of America\" had \"become the ensign of privilege,\" the banner of monopoly, Albert Parsons proclaimed in 1885. \"Wage slaves of Chicago,\" he declared, \"turn your eyes from that ensign of property and fix them upon the emblem of liberty, fraternity and equality\u2014the red flag.\"19\n\nLike his idols Tom Paine and Thomas Jefferson, Parsons believed in honoring two revolutions, the American and the French. And so when Chicago's colony of French immigrants celebrated Bastille Day in 1885, many of the anarchists joined them; but when the city's American families enjoyed the Yankee holiday of Thanksgiving that year, the Internationals arranged for \"an indignation meeting\" at Market Square, where Parsons asked sarcastically what in the world \"plundered workers\" and \"hungry tramps\" had to be thankful for.20\n\nGiven the anarchists' penchant for theatrical street performances, it was not surprising that they created their own dramatic societies and performed their own plays, such as a popular melodrama, _The Nihilists,_ in which Spies and Neebe, the managers of the _Arbeiter-Zeitung,_ played minor roles. This production, which re-created the scenes from the lives of Russian revolutionaries plotting to overthrow the hated czar, was so popular that it was later performed in a commercial theater; so too was _The Proletarian's Daughter,_ the story of a working-class girl who falls in love with a factory owner's son, only to be spurned by her class-conscious father.21\n\n_Anarchist banners displayed in a Thanksgiving poor people's march_ _in 1885 and in other street demonstrations_\n\nDuring most of these demonstrations and festive occasions, the air was filled with music, often performed by German and Bohemian anarchists who created their own brass bands and singing clubs. IWPA club meetings and rallies usually opened and closed with songs that aroused a sense of collective confidence and martial spirit, most especially the much-loved \"Marseillaise,\" a song that Parsons often sang solo at meetings and rallies in his lilting tenor voice.22\n\nThe International also sponsored dances in various halls every weekend, often to celebrate anniversaries and to raise money for the workers' militia or the socialist press, or to celebrate the club's founding date or an occasion like the Maifest or the birth of a movement hero like Tom Paine or Karl Marx. The German members usually chose the venue and the band, and the dances were frequented by various nationalities, such as the one described by a _Chicago Times_ reporter who saw every couple at one anarchist ball enjoying a variety of European dance steps from waltzes to polkas.23\n\nFriedrich Sorge, who had served as Marx's most trusted representative in the United States, described these festivities as \"wonderful events\" that drew enormous crowds, far more people than he had seen at similar socialist occasions in Europe. They highlighted what he called an \"extraordinary and effective propaganda campaign carried on in public meetings held in halls and in the open\"\u2014a sustained effort \"to shake up the people, the workers, and to frighten the philistines and the politicians.\" 24 Through it all, even through the endless club meetings, the threatening speeches and noisy street demonstrations, the anarchists seemed to be having fun.\n\nIn the early days of the IWPA's development, Albert and Lucy Parsons appeared an odd couple of Americans in a German cultural world of beer gardens and concert halls, singing societies and drama clubs. Then, in 1885, their speeches and articles in the _Alarm_ began to attract some English-speaking workers to the American Group they had formed. By the end of the year the group had grown to 150 activists, including a broad-shouldered Englishman named Samuel Fielden, who would become the anarchists' most effective evangelist. 25\n\nFielden joined the group in 1884 after spending fifteen years in the city digging ditches and hauling stone. He had learned about injustice from his father, a Lancashire handloom weaver who became an agitator for the ten-hour day, and had encountered it firsthand when at age seven he followed the children of other poor Lancashire folk into the cotton mills\u2014an experience that left him with a memory of cruelty he called \"satanic.\"\n\nYoung Fielden also received passionate religious instruction from his mother, a devoted Methodist, and before he turned twenty he had become a popular speaker at revival meetings in Lancashire. A restless youth who hated the cotton mills, Fielden left England in 1868. Landing in New York, he traveled far and wide, always working with his hands, and always reading and learning while listening to Americans. When he settled in Chicago, Fielden spent his days at hard labor and his free time in libraries and at meetings of the Liberal League, a group devoted to free thought and critical debate on social questions.26\n\nWhen business improved in 1880, Fielden bought a team of horses and used them for hauling stone to Chicago construction sites. He joined a fledging teamsters' union and met George Schilling, the socialist labor activist, who became his mentor. Having gained a reputation at the Liberal League as a powerful speaker, Fielden was asked to address a labor meeting at the lakeshore in 1883, and there he met Parsons and Spies, who recognized his talent as an orator. By 1884 the stone hauler from Lancashire had become a devoted socialist and a popular speaker for the International.\n\nIn the American Group, Fielden encountered a bevy of restless, intellectually voracious men and women, as dedicated to anarchism as he had once been to Methodism. He participated in lively group meetings at Grief's Hall on Lake Street, where members delivered papers on political economy and anarchy followed by intense debate, and where they heard reports about ongoing strikes and assaults on workers. On occasion, he also listened to Albert Parsons and Lizzie Swank discuss the struggles of Indians, particularly the M\u00e9tis, people of mixed French and native blood who rose up against British rule in the Northwest Territory of Canada, and the Apaches, who were making a last stand against the U.S. Army in the Arizona Territory.27\n\nMeetings of the American Group were organized by Lucy Parsons's close friend Lizzie Swank Holmes, who usually closed gatherings at the piano and led the members in singing \"La Marseillaise.\" She maintained a leading role in the group's political affairs, even after she moved out of the city to Geneva, Illinois, to live with her sickly new husband, William Holmes, who served as secretary of the group. A slender, pale young man who had been a woodworker in Wisconsin, Holmes chaired meetings, moderated debates, kept records and with Lizzie contributed much to the growth of the American Group. In the process, he came to know and admire Albert Parsons, and the two men grew as close as their wives had become. 28 The two couples joined a small inner group of devoted comrades who loved one another's company. Lizzie Holmes later wrote of many occasions she and William spent in lively communion with their friends. \"I used to believe nothing could be more pleasant,\" she recalled, \"than to gather with Mr. Parsons and his wife, Mr. Spies, Mr. Fielden, and others around a table, or in a small circle, and listen to conversation that flowed and sparkled on so smoothly.\"29\n\nBy now Albert Parsons had become a notorious figure in Chicago, a working-class hero admired for his courage as a bold character who suffered the blacklist for speaking out. His infamy among employers only added to his allure among workers. He cut a dashing figure in public appearances, taking the lead in huge street marches of people carrying crimson banners as they wended a long red line through the downtown streets. Sometimes he rode on horseback as a marshal, displaying the impressive riding form he acquired as a young cavalryman. On a podium Parsons struck reporters and critics as a vain character who dyed his hair black, coiffed his mustache and put on the airs of a gentleman; they also found him arrogant, insulting and audacious. Plebeian audiences, however, loved his dramatic persona, his blunt talk, his cutting sarcasm and his angry temper.\n\nAt the age of thirty-seven Parsons had reached the height of his growth as an orator. He displayed a scholarly command of history and demonstrated a remarkable memory for statistics. He often expressed his love for poetry and for the legacy of the French Revolution; these qualities appealed immensely to the German workers in his audience who were, in many cases, avid readers and \"enlightened\" thinkers themselves. Even those who did not share his passionate belief in anarchism often found Parsons impressive. 30\n\nIn great demand as a speaker not only in local working-class venues but in other cities, the \"famous labor agitator\" even aroused curiosity among wealthy Chicagoans of a liberal bent. Early in 1885 he was invited to address a meeting of the West Side Philosophical Society. The hall was filled with well-to-do, respectable people. \"I am the notorious Parsons, the fellow with long horns, as you know him from the daily press,\" he said with a smile. It was odd, he continued, for him to speak before an audience of gentlemen with nice white shirts and ladies wearing elegant and costly dresses. He usually spoke before meetings of people dressed in \"coarse and common garments,\" people whose labor allowed these swells to wear fancy clothes and live in fine palaces. \"Are not these charitable people\u2014these _sans-culottes\u2014_ very generous to you?\" he asked, as hissing resounded through the hall. Undaunted, he pressed on, telling them that 35,000 people in Chicago went hungry every day and that on such a cold winter night the Desplaines Street Police Station sheltered \"as many as 400 homeless, destitute men.\" Then, his tone rising in anger, he exclaimed: \"Listen now to the voice of hunger, when I tell you that unless you heed the cry of the people, unless you harken to the voice of reason, you will be awakened by the thunders of dynamite!\" The hall exploded with angry cries and the speaker could not continue. 31 There would be no more invitations from respectable societies.\n\nLucy Parsons joined her husband in many of his Chicago activities, contributing articles to the _Alarm,_ marching by his side in parades, engaging in debates at meetings of the American Group and speaking at lakefront rallies. She did this while keeping up her dress shop on the North Side to supplement her husband's meager earnings and caring for six-year-old Albert, Jr., and their daughter, Lulu Eda, who was born in 1881. Lucy's activities started attracting the attention of reporters, who were not used to seeing married ladies, let alone black women, making such angry public displays. An _Inter-Ocean_ reporter who heard her give a furious speech at a Sunday rally described Lucy as \"a very determined negress\" who insisted on speaking even with her two \"anarchist sucklings\" at her side. 32 Albert and Lucy Parsons expected to be harshly treated by the press; if anything, the abuse made them more heroic in the eyes of the American Group, whose members treated them with special affection and admiration.\n\nTHE AMERICAN GROUP was an exceptional piece in the mosaic of Chicago's anarchist club life. Other groups consisted largely of Germans and Bohemian immigrants who were not for the most part recent arrivals or political refugees. The largest single element in the anarchist movement were workers from Germany who had become naturalized citizens after living in Chicago for five to ten years; in other words, they were foreigners who became radicalized after they arrived in America.33\n\nSome of the Internationals made good as small proprietors, particularly the saloonkeepers\u2014men like Charles Zepf, Moritz Neff and Thomas Grief, who advertised their taverns as meeting places for the city's socialists. These \"red saloons\" would become targets of police surveillance in 1886, when movement activity reached a fever pitch\u2014 places like Bohemian Hall in Pilsen, where the Czech workers' militia met; Neff's Hall on the North Side, where the Lehr und Wehr Verein gathered; and Thalia Hall on Milwaukee Avenue, where the largest North Side group of the IWPA congregated. 34 These socialist beer halls were some of the 5,000 drinking establishments that existed all over the city in the mid-1880s. The Chicago saloon exuded an atmosphere of freedom, serving as \"the workingman's school,\" a discussion center, a free space where the immigrant laborer learned the real rules in the game of city life.35\n\n_A group of worker militiamen of the_ _Lehr und Wehr Verein with the socialist_ _saloonkeeper Moritz Neff lying down_\n\nWith the exception of the saloonkeepers and a few teachers, musicians and journalists, the Chicago anarchist movement was composed of immigrant wage earners like the lean young printer Adolph Fischer. Fischer had settled into the North Side with his wife and three children after arriving in Chicago during the spring of 1883. Already a well-assimilated immigrant, he had worked ten years as an apprentice in the print shop of his brother, who published a German paper in Little Rock, Arkansas. When he left Bremen, his birthplace, at the age of fifteen, the blond youngster had already enjoyed eight and half years of school, much more education than most immigrant workers received. As a boy, he had absorbed the doctrines of socialism from his father, so Fischer, like Spies and Schwab, arrived in Chicago a self-taught intellectual, exceedingly well read in philosophy, history, literature and political economy. Soon, the twenty-five-year-old newcomer joined their company, after hiring on as a compositor at the Arbeiter-Zeitung.36\n\nA tall man with the body of a long-distance runner, Fischer appeared light in complexion and wore a wispy blond beard and mustache on his thin face. He sat silently at socialist meetings with a faraway look in his blue eyes, but the quiet young man was always ready to perform any task. \"He kept himself and his little family nearly destitute because he gave the greater part of his wages to the cause,\" Lizzie Holmes recalled. \"He did not think life worth living as things existed, and cared only for the time when all should have justice and equal opportunity.\" He was \"in every fiber of his being, the man of action.\"37\n\nFischer joined the Lehr und Wehr Verein soon after he arrived in Chicago, in order to prepare for the armed struggle he believed to be inevitable. \"Would a peaceable solution to the social question be possible, the anarchists would be the first ones to rejoice over it,\" he wrote later. But the fact was that, in almost every strike, militia, police, even federal troops, were dispatched to protect the interests of capital. So, it seemed unlikely to Fischer that big employers would give up their power and their property without going to war.38\n\nLate in 1885, Fischer linked up with a group of ultramilitants who shared the same apocalyptical views. George Engel was their leader. Born in Kassel, Germany, Engel was the son of a mason who had died, leaving his wife a widow with four young children.39 George suffered a hard and bitter youth. No one would take him in and give him training in his chosen trade, shoemaking, a situation that would have provided him with food and clothing. Without money, Engel wandered through northern Germany, working in various cities at different jobs until he married and settled in Rehna, where he started a toy business in 1868. Unable to make much of a living, he decided to leave for America in 1873. After several desperate years in Philadelphia, where he suffered from illness and his family endured constant hunger, Engel made his way to Chicago, where he found work in a wagon factory and met a German wheelwright who showed him a copy of _Der Vorbote,_ the socialist weekly. The newspaper held \"great truths\" about the capitalist order, Engel wrote, truths that explained his own life of misfortune.40 When he met the workers who supported the newspaper, he was astonished to see that men could work so eagerly without pay for the cause of humanity. Even during the depression, Engel worked steadily and saved enough money to open a little toy store on Milwaukee Avenue with his wife and daughter. Freed of hand-work in the factory, Engel found much more time to read and to participate in socialist activity.41\n\nEngel seemed like an old man among young followers like Adolph Fischer. At age forty, the anarchist toy maker was a stolid figure with a flat face and a mild, genial way; he looked more like an ingratiating waiter in a _Wursthaus_ than a dedicated insurrectionist. George Engel had, however, moved a long way to the left since the time he canvassed the North Side wards for Albert Parsons and other socialist candidates. Indeed, in 1885, Engel had fallen out with his International comrades, Spies and Schwab, whose efforts to create a mass movement of organized workers now seemed like hopeless gestures; and by the time the new year dawned, Engel had decided it was time to prepare workers for \"a violent revolution\" that would begin when the capitalists declared war on working people.42\n\nTHE CALL FOR revolutionary action was gaining new converts in Chicago in early 1886, especially among hundreds of German anarchists who had read Johann Most's extremist views in his provocative newspaper _Freiheit_ and in his notorious pamphlet _Revolutionary War Science: A Little Handbook of Instruction in the Use and Preparation of Nitroglycerine, Dynamite, Gun Cotton, Fulminating Mercury, Bombs, Fuses, etc. etc._ Most offered up various recipes in this cookbook of destruction, but he emphasized the special value of explosives because they would be the \"proletariat's artillery\" in a revolutionary war\u2014and the surest means of gaining a victory. Success would be assured if revolutionaries stocked adequate quantities of dynamite bombs that could easily be concealed in their clothing. Most even imagined that these explosive devices would allow insurgents to defeat a fully equipped army.43\n\nThe Chicago anarchists fell in love with the idea of dynamite as the great equalizer in class warfare. \"One man with a dynamite bomb is equal to one regiment,\" wrote one of the _Alarm_ 's correspondents in a typically exaggerated claim. On several occasions in public speeches and newspaper articles, Parsons and Spies advocated its use in revolutionary warfare; they seemed enamored of its scientific mystique, but they also valued dynamite because its potential power promised to instill a sense of courageous manhood in workers intimidated by the police and the militia. No one outdid Lucy Parsons in her fantastic claims for the importance of explosives: \"The voice of dynamite is the voice of force, the only voice which tyranny has ever been able to understand,\" she proclaimed.44\n\nIn January 1886, talk of bombs took a more dramatic turn when August Spies showed a newspaper reporter a piece of tube he said could be used as a casing for a dynamite bomb. \"Take it to your boss,\" he said with his usual bravado, \"and tell him we have 9,000 more like it\u2014only loaded.\" He repeated this demonstration to other reporters later, to show that the anarchists were deadly serious. Many years later, after these reckless gestures helped tie a noose around Spies's neck, the writer Floyd Dell suggested that the anarchists and the newshounds served each other's purposes. Dell, who had been a Chicago reporter, knew how much his fellow \"bohemians\" of the press loved a \"lurid story,\" and he knew how much the anarchists wanted to create the impression that they were dangerous men. He doubted that Spies actually made any bombs; what he needed most, Dell suggested, was the \"symbolism of dynamite.\"45\n\nIf anarchists like Spies and Albert and Lucy Parsons indulged in \"bomb talking\" to frighten the authorities and to encourage their followers, there were, among their comrades, other men, men of few words, frustrated militants who were prepared to make and use bombs in the showdown they expected to come.46 One of these men was a young carpenter named Louis Lingg. Born in Baden, Germany, to a father who toiled in a lumberyard and a mother who kept a laundry, he suffered a miserable childhood. His father almost died following his employer's instructions to retrieve a heavy oak log from the surface of a frozen river. The ice broke and the lumber shover nearly drowned in the frigid water. Before Lingg's father could regain his health, he was discharged by his employer. By the time he reached the age of thirteen, Lingg had seen his father's health deteriorate while his former employer's wealth accumulated. These experiences, he recalled, left him with what he called \"a bitter hatred of society\" and all its injustices.47\n\nAs a teenager, Lingg entered an apprenticeship with a master carpenter, but before long he left Germany for the freer atmosphere of Switzerland. On this sojourn as a tramping artisan, the young carpenter became a freethinker and joined a workers' club, where he received food and companionship and benefited from what he called a kind of \"practical communism.\" Lingg was supposed to return home to serve in the army, but he refused and became a wanted man. Now alienated from his fatherland, Lingg found a place in Zurich's community of exiled revolutionaries; and there he met the outcast leader of the German anarchists, August Reinsdorf, at the time Reinsdorf was planning to assassinate the king of Prussia. Lingg, still in his teens, was captivated by Reinsdorf and became his disciple.48\n\nIn 1885, at the age of twenty-one, Louis Lingg left his fugitive life behind and made straight for Chicago, where, he knew, there was a large community of German anarchists. The new arrival found work and immediately joined the new International Carpenters and Joiners' Union organized by revolutionaries. Despite his youth, Lingg quickly won the admiration of other German carpenters, who elected him as a delegate to the Central Labor Union. Soon afterward, he was hired as a full-time organizer for the burgeoning new union movement. Though he spoke little English, Lingg's ardor and stunning physical presence attracted attention among anarchists. William Holmes remembered Lingg as the handsomest man he had ever met. His well-shaped face, \"crowned with a wealth of curly chestnut hair,\" his \"fine blue eyes\" and peach white complexion, his athletic body and his physical vigor all made Lingg seem like a Greek god to Holmes. When Spies and Schwab met this newcomer, they too were impressed by his charisma and physical courage, though they found Lingg's ideas so peculiar and puzzling that \"they never knew how to take him.\"49\n\nAlthough he worked as a union organizer of German and Bohemian carpenters, Louis Lingg harbored no illusions about the ultimate success of trade unionism or about the odds faced by unarmed strikers when confronted by the employers' armed forces. Talk of reviving the eight-hour movement did not impress him, but bomb talk did.\n\nBY THE END OF 1885 the Chicago anarchists had frightened the city's philistines and politicians. The revolutionaries' public speeches and demonstrations seemed threatening enough, but when word leaked out of their private discussions, anxieties rose even higher.\n\nThe Internationals were aware that spies were infiltrating their meetings, and so they made halfhearted efforts to identify strangers. Nonetheless, Pinkerton agents hired by businessmen and plainclothes police detectives attended meetings of the International without being noticed. The private spies brought back lurid stories of bloody threats and plots to dynamite buildings like the Board of Trade. Many of these reports were wildly exaggerated, and some were fabricated to please the men who paid the detectives, but when these stories appeared in the press, they fed a growing fever of anxiety among middle- and upper-class Chicagoans that a vast anarchist conspiracy was in the works.50\n\nAt this point, the Chicago anarchists' threats remained rhetorical. No mansions had been bombed, no police stations had been attacked, no member of the workers' militia had fired a shot in anger. But Chicagoans had reason to fear that dynamite bombs would explode in their city, as they had in London that year\u2014not ignited by German anarchists but by Irish-American nationalists.\n\nEarly in 1885 a cadre of the secret Clan-Na-Gael had bombed Westminster Hall, London Bridge, the Houses of Parliament and the Tower of London, wounding scores of people. The popular Irish republican paper _Irish World,_ along with three other Chicago Irish papers, supported the bombing attacks. Indeed, the editors of the influential _World_ \"took great delight in every blast, declaring that dynamite was the only means of retaliation the Irish had against a tyrannical power.\" Europeans, however, were appalled by this new use of dynamite as an instrument of terror; they were painfully familiar with the actions of nihilists and other revolutionaries who assassinated imperial rulers and police officials. But the actions of the bomb-throwing anarchist seemed at least intelligible to the London _Times._ By comparison, the evil work of the \"Irish-American 'dynamite fiend' \" seemed incomprehensible because he chose to assault crowds of innocent civilians and ordinary travelers in order \"to inspire terror.\"51\n\nDespite all the talk of bomb throwing by revolutionaries in Chicago, no one had suffered from any anarchist attacks. Nonetheless, by the end of 1885, the city's businessmen had not only come to fear the Internationals in their midst, they had grown \"to hate them and wish for their destruction.\" The anarchists' rhetorical threats were not the only reason for this antipathy. The city's most powerful men were less afraid of bomb talk than they were of the large working-class following the anarchist-led Central Labor Union had attracted in various immigrant districts. The Internationals embodied the worst fears native-born Americans harbored of aliens who refused to profess their loyalty to God, country and private property. The daily press, Republican and Democratic, magnified this hostility with dehumanizing descriptions of the immigrant revolutionaries, who were called \"long-haired idiots and knaves.\" Their women, the papers said, acted like harlots and amazons, marching brazenly down the streets and cheering speeches by a \"determined negress\" who said she wanted to \"devastate the avenues of the rich.\" The communists were bilious immigrants, libertines with no self-control, people who were drunk with beer and intoxicated by the fumes of revolutionary talk. They were heathens and homicidal maniacs, incendiaries and bloodthirsty worshipers of _La Commune._ They were not humans, but wolves from the darkest dens in Europe, beasts worthy of extinction.52\n\nThe anarchists played their own part in this degrading war of words, branding Board of Trade men as gamblers and thieves, and industrialists as bloodsucking \"leeches.\" They castigated policemen as obedient \"bloodhounds,\" militiamen as heartless mercenaries and the Pinkertons as common criminals paid to gun down innocent civilians. The Internationals also nursed their own conspiracy theory: that the city's wealthy men were plotting to turn all the armed forces at their disposal against workers in some imminent attack. Certain of this, the anarchists beseeched workers to arm for their own self-defense and prepare to meet force with force. In response, more immigrant workingmen joined the Lehr und Wehr Verein and began drilling in secret, and more began talking about making bombs, if not actually manufacturing the infernal devices. No wonder a Chicago police reporter recalled the last months of 1885 as a time when \"everything pointed to a dreadful culmination.\" 53\nChapter Nine\n\n _The Great Upheaval_\n\nJANUARY 1886\u2013APRIL 1886\n\nTHE DEEP WINTER of 1886 passed quietly as Chicagoans hunkered down and endured cold blasts of wind off the plains and the snowstorms they carried; it was no time for street warfare. That time would come after the harsh weather broke in March. Then, prosperous city residents feared, anarchist activity would resume at a much higher level of intensity. They were not disappointed.\n\nAs expected, the Internationals took to the streets again, and anxieties rose with the temperature. But then something happened that no one expected, neither the anarchists nor the capitalists, not the editors of the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ or of the _Chicago Tribune._ Historians would call it the Great Upheaval, but in 1886 no one knew how to describe the working-class unrest that welled up throughout industrial America.\n\nBeginning in March of 1886, a strange enthusiasm took hold of wage-earning people in industrial centers across the nation as the dream of an eight-hour day suddenly seemed within their grasp. The agitation for shorter hours appeared to be everywhere by April, drawing thousands of unorganized workers into the swelling ranks of the Knights of Labor. Soon a strike fever gripped the nation's workforce; it peaked on May 1, when 350,000 laborers from coast to coast joined in a coordinated general strike for the eight-hour day.\n\nThe strike wave broke for a while and then returned in the fall with another surge of walkouts. By year's end 610,000 workers had struck, compared to 258,000 the year before. In 1885, 645 job actions affected 2,467 establishments; in 1886, however, more than 1,400 strikes hit 11,562 businesses. 1 Nothing like this had ever happened in America, or in Europe. These huge protests stunned observers like Friedrich Engels, who wrote from London, \"History is on the move over there at last.\" The Americans, he remarked, were \"a people full of energy like no other,\" a people who astonished European socialists with \"the vastness of their movement.\"2\n\nWhen the Great Upheaval reached its climax on May 1, 1886, Chicago was its epicenter. At least 40,000 workers struck there, but after a while it was impossible to keep count. Perhaps as many as 60,000 laborers left their jobs. Unlike the strikes in other cities, where a few trades took the lead, the upheaval in Chicago reverberated through scores of shops and factories, construction sites and packinghouses; it emptied the huge lumberyards of workers, clogged the harbor with lake vessels and stranded trains in the huge railyards of the nation's transportation hub. The general strike even sucked in thousands of immigrant factory operatives and common laborers: nowhere was the unskilled proletariat mobilized the way it was in Chicago.\n\nThere were many reasons why the eight-hour strikes in Chicago were the largest, most aggressive and most successful in the nation; one important reason was that the anarchists had become so involved in organizing the unskilled, raising the stakes of the struggle and directing the flow of worker protest toward the general strike on May 1, or what they called \"Emancipation Day.\"3\n\nNO ONE DREAMED that such a massive strike movement was possible in the fall of 1885, when Chicago unionists were still reeling from the police assault that had broken the streetcar strike in July. Indeed, when George Schilling and a few other activists organized a new Eight-Hour Association, union members in the mainstream Trades and Labor Assembly paid no attention; they were still preoccupied with halting the use of laborsaving machines and ending the use of contract laborers, convict laborers and child laborers\u2014all of whom displaced skilled journeymen. These union members seemed to have forgotten that two years earlier their national Federation of Organized Trades and Labor Unions had endorsed a bold call for the inauguration of the eight-hour system on May 1, 1886. Trade union delegates had adopted this resolution when they met at Chicago's Henry George Hall in 1884, but, as Schilling recalled, the conventioneers \"returned home, after passing this resolution, and went to sleep.\"4\n\nWhen fall 1885 turned to winter 1886 and the depression strengthened its hold on the city, trade unionists began to respond to Schilling's wake-up call. The patient efforts of the Eight-Hour Association now attracted a following among craftsmen who found themselves thrown out of work by the twin evils of overproduction and underconsumption, or else replaced by machines or by young women, farm boys and \"botch men\" willing to work by the piece. The eight-hour activists' arguments made sense to these proud but beleaguered craftsmen, who were persuaded that, if employers reduced hours, workers would demand higher wages to compensate for lost time; and, with more free time, they would also want more of the good things in life that the leisure classes enjoyed. As they attained a higher standard of living, workers would become a new mass of consumers whose purchases would alleviate overproduction\u2014the curse of the American industrial system and the cause of depressions.5\n\nThe eight-hour reform also appealed to some leading citizens, including Mayor Harrison, who regarded it as a way to reduce unemployment and assuage discontented workers; it even elicited favorable remarks from some newspaper editors, like the Tribune's Joe Medill.6 The anarchists dismissed the revived eight-hour demand as a mere reform until early 1886, when Albert Parsons convinced Spies, Schwab and Neebe that the Internationals needed to join the new movement that was generating so much enthusiasm among the skilled and unskilled alike.7\n\nOnce again the anarchists found themselves working with former socialist comrades and fellow trade unionists. Serious differences remained, however. The leaders of the Eight-Hour Association hoped that employers would voluntarily accept the eight-hour system as a legitimate reform with mutual gains for labor and capital alike. The Internationals, on the other hand, predicted massive employer opposition and argued that success would only come as a result of an aggressive general strike on May 1.\n\nDuring the next few months the excitement and anticipation of a showdown brought hundreds of fresh recruits into the Knights of Labor. They joined newly formed local assemblies, and like similar bodies across the nation, they resolved to take joint action on May 1, 1886. In doing so, these Knights defied the orders of Grand Master Workman Terence Powderly, who opposed a general strike because he feared it would generate destructive class conflict. He also complained about the \"quality\" of the new members rushing to join the Knights and even suspended organizing for forty days, but to no avail: his defiant organizers kept on recruiting.8\n\nPropelled by the eight-hour movement's momentum, the Knights even penetrated two fortresses of antiunionism, the McCormick Reaper Works and the Pullman car shops. After conceding defeat in his battle with union molders the previous year, Cyrus McCormick, Jr., had regained the offensive, determined to win his war against the union.9 In the summer his manager fired top union leaders, and in January 1886 the company terminated nearly all the skilled molders in the works, including the union members who had protested the wage cut the previous March. These skilled men were all replaced by common laborers who operated pneumatic molding machines. Moreover, when McCormick demanded police protection, he now received assurances from city officials that the department would take strong action to protect strikebreakers in any future labor dispute. Chief Inspector Bonfield assumed personal command of the area around the reaper works, replacing the popular Irish captain who had restrained his patrolmen during the last strike at the plant.\n\nDespite all this, McCormick found his control of the works hotly contested by die-hard unionists, who organized a militant new District Assembly of the Knights on the Southwest Side. By February 1886 the union activists had organized nearly everyone in the harvester plant, strikebreakers and all, into two new divisions. The skilled machinists, blacksmiths and pattern makers were grouped together in the United Metal Workers, a militant union allied with the anarchist-led Central Labor Union, and McCormick's army of common laborers and machine operators were enrolled in the new Knights of Labor District Assembly.\n\nOn February 12, 1886, a joint committee of unions presented a list of demands that called for advanced wages in all departments, for an extension to the brief time allowed for toilet use, for the discharge of all scabs, for preferential hiring of old hands displaced by molding machines and for a pledge from management not to terminate any workers for union activity. McCormick accepted some of these proposals but refused the union's demand that he remove five nonunion men from the plant. In response, a mass meeting of all unions voted to strike in protest. Before the workers could act, however, McCormick declared a lockout and shut the factory down. The stage was set for the final showdown at the reaper works on the Black Road.\n\nAfter organizing the common laborers at McCormick's in February, Knights from District Assembly 57 ranged throughout Cook County as far south as Kensington, the wide-open town where George Pullman's workers went to drink their beers and speak their minds. In April the agitators George Schilling and Albert Parsons addressed a packed meeting in the town's Turner hall and afterward recruited 400 of Pullman's skilled car builders for the Knights of Labor. The radical advance men of the Chicago movement had arrived at the gates of the model factory town.10\n\nWITHIN A WEEK, the upsurge in organizing at the McCormick works and Pullman town became episodes in a much larger national manifestation of worker unrest, one triggered by a second titanic confrontation between the Knights of Labor and the managers of Jay Gould's immense southwestern railroad system.\n\nThe Knights of Labor had achieved a spectacular victory against Gould's railroads the previous July, but soon afterward they saw their members suffer from arbitrary wage cuts, layoffs, transfers and other abuses. When one Knight in Texas was summarily fired for attending a union meeting, he protested that he had been given permission, but to no avail. The company refused to take him back. In response, the order decided to act on its motto: \"An injury to one is the concern of all.\" On March 6, 1886, the Knights announced the ultimate solidarity strike, calling out all the men on the Texas & Pacific line as a protest against arbitrary treatment of one union railway man. They demanded that management meet with union committees and arbitrate disputes, instead of relying on unilateral action.11 Railroad company managers often dealt with individual craft unions of engineers, firemen and switchmen, but the Knights seemed far more menacing because they stood for all grades of workers and because they believed in cooperative enterprise.\n\nThe 1886 strike on the Gould system assumed an epic significance because it raised an essential question about American freedom: When a wage earner freely contracted with an employer, did the employee agree to sacrifice his liberty in return for compensation? The railroad owners believed so and stood firmly on the principle that \"the right to hire men for what labor is offered in the market must be upheld against brute force,\" if necessary.12 The Knights of Labor rejected this principle, insisting that men with empty stomachs made no free contracts, and that workers who sold their labor in order to live usually assented or submitted, but rarely consented, to the terms of an employment contract. Without a union, the Knights argued, the railroad worker found himself in a kind of indenture, a form of \"involuntary servitude\" prohibited by the Thirteenth Amendment.13\n\nThe Strike, _a graphic reproduction of a painting by Robert Kohler depicting the_ _scene at a factory during the Great Upheaval_\n\nThe Knights not only posed fundamental questions about freedom; they raised the specter of two new kinds of concerted action by workers: the boycott and the sympathy strike. The unionists had been extremely effective in organizing boycotts to support fellow workers on strike in various cities, notably in Chicago, but they had never engaged in a sympathetic strike like the one the Knights called against Gould's railroads in 1886, initiating a trend that disturbed employers for years to come. During the first five years of the 1880s, only 33 sympathy strikes occurred; after 1886 came a five-year period when workers struck in support of fellow workers 397 times. 14\n\nTerence Powderly and other leading Knights warned their southwestern members not to take the risky job action against the nation's most powerful capitalist, but to no end. The walkout kept spreading along the rail lines of the 10,000-mile southwestern system, so that in a few days 14,000 railroad men had quit work. The strike soon became the most violent conflict the nation had suffered since the 1877 uprising, as strikers halted engines, intimidated strikebreakers and battled armed posses of railroad gunmen along the routes. In some places the conflict seemed like a \"social war\" as rank-and-file Knights of Labor demonstrated an extreme bitterness toward their employers.15\n\nNo strike seemed more like a \"species of civil war\" than the confrontation at the McCormick works in Chicago. After locking out striking molders, plant managers trolled the Midwest for replacement workers and issued revolvers to 82 loyal employees who were ready to work when the plant resumed operations; they also set up kitchens to serve food to a formidable detachment of 400 police sent to protect strikebreakers. When McCormick reopened with a nonunion workforce, Chief Inspector Bonfield commanded an all-out assault on the combined union picket lines and opened a cordon sanitaire for the strikebreakers.16\n\nThe locked-out workers immediately called a mass meeting near the plant, which was addressed by leading Knights as well as by Albert Parsons of the _Alarm_ and Michael Schwab of the _Arbeiter-Zeitung,_ who spoke in German. Despite the garrisoning of the works by Bonfield's men and Pinkerton's agents, the battle at McCormick's raged into April as strikers and their neighbors \"waylaid the scabs on their way to the plant,\" in the words of one reporter, who added that police were kept jumping from one point to another in a vain attempt to protect the nonunion men. 17\n\nAs the area around the big reaper works began to resemble a war zone, it became clear that the tension building between rival forces could no longer be relieved\u2014not by McCormick, who vowed to destroy the union; not by the strikers, who refused to sacrifice their manhood by returning to work on McCormick's terms; not by the anarchists, who were preparing for street warfare; not by the mayor, who no longer controlled the police department; and certainly not by Inspector Bonfield, who intended to crush the workers' resistance.\n\nThen, in the midst of this tense standoff, news arrived from downstate that heightened the strikers' worst fears of what might happen in Chicago. On April 9 the great southwest strike against the Gould rail system leapt across the Mississippi River into Illinois at East St. Louis, a bustling railroad town less than half a day away from Chicago by fast train. The Knights, led by determined switchmen, had disabled trains at this important western terminus of several major rail lines. That day, a sheriff's posse composed of railway employees opened fire with Winchester rifles on a picket line after one striker defied a warning and set foot on company property. The deputies, largely recruited from loyal Gould employees, killed seven strikers and wounded many more. Railway workers and their supporters, enraged by the massacre of unarmed men, reacted by burning railroad shops and destroying property in the yards. The news of the killings so alarmed Governor Oglesby that he placed the city under martial law and ordered seventeen companies of National Guard troops to East St. Louis. Reports of the massacre infuriated the anarchists in Chicago and became the cause c\u00e9l\u00e8bre of nightly protest meetings.18\n\nIt did not take long for the Great Upheaval to rumble into Chicago. The next day, April 10, 1,300 union switchmen paralyzed train traffic in the city's numerous railyards when they left work to demand that their brothers be hired instead of nonunion men. For a few days the specter of 1877 again hung over the city, until Philip Armour and other packinghouse owners persuaded the railway company executives to accede to the strikers' demands rather than cause another \"railroad war.\"19\n\nTHE EXCITEMENT GENERATED by the Knights' revival at the McCormick works and by the railroad workers' challenge to the mighty Jay Gould reverberated through all of Chicago's factories and shops. New Knights of Labor trade assemblies popped up all over the city as 10,000 workers poured into the resurgent order. The Knights also organized more mixed assemblies to accept common laborers and other immigrants, some of whom said they wanted to enlist in the grand army of labor so that they too could turn out on strike. New recruits included young women who toiled as domestic servants and the \"sewing girls\" in the city's huge clothing industry.20\n\nAfter one garment-shop owner locked out his female employees, the union women formed \"Our Girls Cooperative Clothing Manufacturing Company.\" Its objective was \"to elevate the intellectual, social, and financial condition of its members, and the manufacturing of all classes of clothing, and the sewing of any cloth goods in use in wholesale or retail trade.\" Capitalized at $10,000, the cooperative was owned entirely by union members who bought shares of stock for $10 each. Net profits were divided equally among stockholders, workers and the cooperative fund of the order's General Assembly. Forty women were steadily employed in the worker-run shop, where they labored for only eight hours a day; it was one of twenty such cooperative initiatives launched by the Chicago Knights.21\n\nThe urge to organize and mobilize even seeped into the worst sweatshops on the West Side, filled with the city's newest immigrants\u2014Jews who had fled the horrendous pogroms in Russia a few years before. Abraham Bisno, a young cloak maker, remembered that these newcomers spoke no German or English and knew nothing about boycotts or the eight-hour strikes reported on so extensively in newspapers that reached other immigrants. Still, the eight-hour fever was so contagious it crossed into this isolated Jewish settlement. At one meeting August Spies addressed the cloak makers with the help of a Yiddish translator, and at another an American Knight struggled to explain the eight-hour cause in English. \"There was great tumult,\" Bisno recalled, \"everybody was talking and nobody quite knew what this thing was about.\" But even a Yiddish speaker like Bisno grasped the core message. \"All I knew then of the principles of the Knights of Labor was that the motto . . . was 'One for All, and All for One.' \"22\n\nWhether their pay was high or low, Chicago workers flocked to the eight-hour cause because it constituted a freedom movement. Eight-hour visionaries looked forward to a new day when wage earners no longer lived just to work, and simultaneously looked backward to a time when people toiled together under the sky and close to the earth, passing the time of day without clocks and factory whistles, without machines or foremen to govern their pace. 23 The Knights opened and closed their meetings and rallies with songs that evoked this desire for freedom from the long arm of the job. Their anthem was the \"Eight-Hour Song.\"\n\n _We want to feel the sunshine;_  \n _We want to smell the flowers;_  \n _We're sure God has willed it._  \n _And we mean to have eight hours._\n\n _We're summoning our forces from_  \n _Shipyard, shop and mill;_  \n _Eight hours for work, eight hours for rest,_  \nEight hours for what we will.24\n\nChicago's workers, who were mostly newcomers from other places, usually small towns and rural districts, missed feeling the sun on their faces and smelling the flowers in warm months, for they lived and worked in a \"city of smoke\" where, as one traveler noted, \"not even a ghost of the sun\" shined.25 Still, some found themselves tantalizingly close to nature at times. Those who toiled at the reaper works and in the lumberyards could see the prairie grasses fading into the western horizon, and, on some days they could even smell the crops when a dry prairie wind blew in from the northwest. On most days, however, a sickening odor drifted out of the stockyards and blanketed the immigrant neighborhoods of Pilsen and the West Side.26 In a city where industry slaughtered millions of animals, blotted out the sky with smoke, poisoned the river with blood and guts and ground up fingers of factory hands like sausage stuffing, workers yearned to save part of themselves and to reclaim part of their day from the chaos of Chicago industry and from what Kipling called its \"grotesque ferocity.\"27\n\nAS MAY 1 approached, thousands of working people took heart from the radical notion that wage earners could unilaterally cut the length of the workday by making one unified show of solidarity instead of relying upon a frustrating legislative strategy. Many of the workers who flooded into the new assemblies formed by the Knights of Labor said they were joining the union so they could prepare to strike on the great day to come. The \"mushroom growth\" of the union worried its national leader, Terence Powderly, who strongly disapproved of strikes\u2014the very actions that had brought about the order's great revival\u2014arguing that if the eight-hour day was to be achieved, it must come through legislation, not through aggressive job actions or boycotts and not through the general refusal to work more than eight hours on May 1.28\n\nGrand Master Workman Powderly found himself on the horns of a dilemma as May 1 approached. A small, slender man with magnificent mustachios, the Knights' leader looked to one Chicago labor writer \"more like a college professor than a man who swung a hammer.\" Yet Powderly was a gifted orator, a charismatic personality who captivated his audiences and who won thousands of recruits to his order. A man of soaring ambition, he hoped that, as master of the order, he would become one of the leading men of his time. Under his guidance the Knights had begun to realize William Sylvis's dream of a unified national labor movement that extended itself to women, blacks, immigrants and other sympathetic members of the producing classes. A Catholic reformer who embraced a moralistic idea of socialism, Powderly sought to take the high road; that is, he hoped to create a reform movement and ultimately a new social order in which class conflict would be replaced by cooperative enterprises and collaborative solutions to workplace conflicts. So, like many union leaders of the day, he feared strikes and regarded such job actions as desperate measures to be employed only as a last resort.29\n\n_Terence V. Powderly, Grand Master_ _Workman, Knights of Labor, 1886_\n\nHowever, the rank-and-file Knights, including many who had been inspired by Powderly, were in a radically different mood, especially in Chicago, where militant local leaders showed no qualms about striking McCormick's and boycotting hundreds of \"rat\" employers. The unions waged two effective boycott campaigns against prison-made shoes and \"rat made\" boxes produced by the Maxwell company; both efforts promoted the growth of the Knights, according to the _Tribune\u2014_ so much so that nearly every local assembly needed to find larger meeting halls to accommodate new members, who now poured in at a rate of 1,000 per week.30\n\nThe anarchists viewed the Knights' new power as \"a very favorable development\" and hoped the eight-hour movement would lead union members \"in the right direction toward radicalism.\"31 Like the Knights, anarchist union organizers were using the eight-hour issue to recruit thousands of new members in 1886. Albert Parsons, the most effective labor agitator in the city, spoke at numerous venues and did everything in his power for the eight-hour movement. Meanwhile, August Spies and Oscar Neebe of the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ organized hundreds of butchers, bakers and brewers. All three groups won shorter hours at increased pay from their employers, mostly small-time German entrepreneurs.32\n\nAnarchist organizers like Louis Lingg also succeeded in efforts to organize German and Bohemian carpenters into new unions, some with \"armed sections.\" Other carpenters of various nationalities responded to the agitation for the eight-hour day by rushing into the Knights of Labor's five trade assemblies. The original craft union in the trade, the Brotherhood of Carpenters and Joiners, was riddled by defections to these two new bodies. In spite of their rivalries, all three union groups unified around the demand for shorter hours. They formed a tripartite United Carpenters' Committee, opened negotiations with the Contractors' Association for an eight-hour day and quickly achieved success. With prosperity around the corner and spring construction projects set to get under way, the contractors quickly acceded to the United Carpenters' demands.33\n\nBy the end of April more than 47,000 Chicago workers had gained a shorter workday, some of them without a corresponding reduction in wages. The City Council had approved an eight-hour day for public employees with Mayor Harrison's warm endorsement. It looked as though the movement was unstoppable. 34 Albert Parsons was so encouraged that he allowed himself to hope that the culmination of the eight-hour crusade on May 1 would not lead to violence. \"The movement to reduce the work-hours\" was not intended to provoke a social revolution, he informed the press, but to provide \"a peaceful solution to the difficulties between capitalists and laborers.\" 35\n\nAfter establishing beachheads in the stockyards, the breweries and the bakeries, the anarchist-led Central Labor Union reached out to unorganized groups like tanners and saddlers, masons and wagonmakers, grocery clerks and sewing girls, Russian tailors and Bohemian lumber shovers. CLU organizers and IWPA agitators spoke at meetings almost every night in the city's industrial districts, addressing various groups of unskilled workers in German and Czech, as well as Danish and Norwegian; and, for the first time, Polish agitators appealed to their countrymen, the largest and lowest-paid group of unorganized workers in the city.36\n\nOne of the CLU's greatest accomplishments came in the fast-growing furniture-making industry, where a small organization of 800 mainly German craftsmen in smaller custom shops extended its benefits to men who operated woodworking machines in larger factories. In the third week of April these allied furniture workers walked out of two large firms, demanding eight-hour workdays and increased pay.37\n\nThese actions by unskilled workers marked a turning point in the eight-hour movement. It was now clear that common laborers would take disciplined action for a demand that had been initially conceived of by skilled workers. The craftsmen who launched the movement had proposed a simple bargain to their employers: if the men were granted a shorter working day, they would accept pay that was reduced accordingly. Even if they lost two or more hours of wages each day, the eight-hour men believed they would achieve their initial objective. The \"eight-hour system\" would serve as a first step toward reducing unemployment and inducing a desire for a higher standard of living among tradesmen with more leisure and more desire to consume. But as the eight-hour movement in Chicago broadened, this incremental strategy disintegrated. Low-paid butchers, bakers, brewers and lumber shovers were unwilling to accept a pay cut to achieve what they now regarded as a legitimate right. And so they rallied to the new demand raised by the anarchists in April: eight hours' work for ten hours' pay.38\n\nThe anarchists' cry of \"eight for ten\" appealed to the soldiers in Chicago's huge army of common laborers. These were people who had endured long hours and frozen wages, as well as pay cuts, for two years; now, with prosperity returning and city industry booming, they refused to accept another loss of income as the price of winning the eight-hour day. George Schilling and the leaders of the Eight-Hour Association objected to this radical demand, however, because they knew it would provoke outrage among their supporters in the press and among employers who were willing to consider shortening the workday as long as wages were reduced accordingly.\n\nThe militants' goal of winning shorter hours without losing pay also called for a more unified, more militant movement. While craft unionists could attack one employer or a few contractors at a time and use their skilled training as leverage, unskilled laborers needed to act together to wage mass, industry-wide strikes. And so, the logic of solidarity espoused by the Knights and the International made sense to them.39 As common laborers and factory operatives joined the eight-hour movement, the anarchists took heart. This was the breakthrough Albert Parsons had dreamed of when he linked up with the old eight-hour philosopher Ira Steward six years earlier: the skilled and the unskilled mobilized together in a \"class movement\" ready to take militant action to achieve a common goal. 40\n\nON APRIL 25, 1886, after Chicago's employers and their families attended Easter services in the city's Protestant churches, some of the churchgoers gathered along downtown streets to watch a spirited march of 15,000 workers to the lakefront organized by the Central Labor Union. The column extended for two miles and passed 50,000 people who lined the route to the lake. 41 The marchers started out from the West Side, where red banners floated over hundreds of buildings, and paraded slowly and merrily through the deserted streets of downtown until they reached the lakeshore. There, in a festive atmosphere, Parsons and Fielden spoke in English while Spies and Schwab spoke in German to what one reporter called \"a multitude of discontented workingmen.\" Moved by the occasion, Schwab reverted to the imagery of Easter he recalled from his Catholic boyhood in Bavaria. He told the crowd that their ancestors had been celebrating this day as the springtime revival of nature since ancient times, just as their fathers and grandfathers had celebrated the Redeemer's resurrection. \"Today, the workers of Chicago are also celebrating their resurrection,\" Schwab proclaimed. \"They have risen from their long indolence and indifference; they have seen what they can accomplish walking hand in hand.\"42\n\nThe ebullient mood on the lakefront that Sunday contrasted with the impatient mood the business press expressed on Monday. Boycotts, lockouts, strikes and labor actions had interrupted the city's newfound prosperity, the _Chicago Journal_ complained. Every form of business and industrial enterprise had been \"attacked or threatened\" by eight-hour strikers. Employers who were willing to accept shorter hours at reduced wages were now faced with more than 20,000 strikers demanding ten hours' pay for eight hours' work. The _Tribune_ labeled this fresh demand a \"simple impossibility\" and blamed it on the \"Communistic element fermenting among the laboring classes.\" There was no doubt now that the crisis lay ahead: Chicago businessmen had better prepare for the worst.43\n\nChief Inspector Bonfield agreed, telling the press he expected \"a great deal of trouble\" on May 1 and issuing an order that would place the entire force on duty come Saturday morning.44 The First Cavalry Regiment of the Illinois National Guard had already conducted an impressive drill and full-dress parade at the request of the Commercial Club, a group that had been formed after the Great Uprising of 1877. After reviewing the cavalry, the club members, led by Philip Armour, raised funds to equip the First Infantry militia with better arms, including $2,000 to \"furnish the regiment with a good machine gun, to be used by them in case of trouble.\"45\n\nEditors focused their attention more than ever on the anarchists, who were, despite their denials, accused of plotting to use the May Day strike as an occasion to precipitate a riot. The _Chicago Mail_ singled out Parsons and Spies as \"two dangerous ruffians\" who had been \"at work fomenting disorder for the past ten years.\" They should have been driven out of the city long ago, said the editorial. Now they were taking advantage of the excitement generated by the eight-hour movement to instigate strikes and to cause injury to capital and honest labor in every possible way. Spies and Parsons did not have one honest aim in mind, said the _Mail._ They should be marked by the police and held personally responsible for any trouble that came to the city.46\n\nEven under these circumstances, Spies and Parsons betrayed no fears; indeed, they wrote and spoke with more assertion and conviction than ever. Privately, however, they may have shared the anxiety of their comrade William Holmes, who feared that when this great test between the labor movement and the \"money power\" reached its climax on May 1, \"desperate days\" would follow very soon.47\nChapter Ten\n\n _A Storm of Strikes_\n\nAPRIL 30, 1886\u2013MAY 3, 1886\n\nON THE EVE of May Day, Chicago throbbed with excitement as workers met and rallied all over the city. Leaders of the Upholsterers' Union, for example, organized what they claimed was the largest meeting of upholsterers ever held in the United States. The members voted to take Saturday off and to return to work Monday on the eight-hour system. Minute instructions were issued to members on how to act in case any shop refused to accede to the new system. 1 Freight handlers on the city's major railroads also gathered and rallied to support men who had already struck for eight hours. Their leaders called a \"monster mass meeting\" of all warehouse workers on the morning of May 1 at the Harrison Street viaduct. Chicago, the nation's freight handler, was on the brink of paralysis.\n\nThe _Tribune_ feared the worst trouble would come in the lumber district, where 12,000 workers had demanded \"reduced hours and advanced pay with no probability of getting them.\" The German section of the Lumber Workers' Union met at Goerke's Hall and decided to walk out if yard owners refused to accept their demand for eight hours' work for ten hours' pay and double pay for overtime. The Bohemian branch, which added 400 new members in one day, was expected to do the same. \"The Lumber Workers Union is not a branch of the Knights of Labor but of the notorious Central Labor Union,\" the _Tribune_ explained, adding that the majority of the men employed in the lumberyards followed the anarchists. The lumberyard owners called these demands \"very impudent and imperative\" and vowed to reject them. That meant that a strike by the lumber shovers, chiefly Germans and Bohemians, would completely paralyze the vital lumber trade. An unidentified anarchist told the paper that these two groups of immigrant workers were ready to do the aggressive work and to defend themselves with arms if necessary. But this leader did not expect serious trouble because he believed employers would give in rather than allow their competitors in other cities to steal their business.\n\nON THE MORNING OF Saturday, May 1, the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ 's headline shouted THE DIES ARE CAST! THE FIRST OF MAY, WHOSE HISTORICAL SIGNIFICANCE WILL BE UNDERSTOOD AND APPRECIATED ONLY IN LATER YEARS, IS HERE.2 Even \"the businessmen's newspaper\" expressed excitement over the momentous events about to unfold. THE GREAT DAY IS HERE, announced the _Tribune\u2014_ LOUD CRY HEARD FROM WORKINGMEN ALL OVER LAND. The first five pages of the paper were crammed with detailed reports from hot spots all over the city. Telegraph messages poured in from other cities, where the general strike had begun, but by noon it was clear that Chicago was hardest hit. At least 30,000 laboring people were on holiday from work of their own accord. A \"storm of strikes\" affected almost every segment of the workforce, from the men who handled freight in the railroad warehouses to the girls who sewed uppers in the shoe factories. \"The streets were thronged with people, the manufactories were silent, and business in general was almost at a standstill,\" recalled one reporter. For once, the dark, sooty sky over the city was clear. \"No smoke curled from the tall chimneys of the factories, and things assumed a Sabbath-like appearance.\"3\n\nThe great refusal of May 1 quickly transcended boundaries that separated Chicago's polyglot working class. Craft workers, who had reached agreements with their bosses, took actions to support workers already on strike. More generally, workers and consumers boycotted sweatshops and bought eight-hour cigars and wore eight-hour shoes.4 Meanwhile, certain groups of strikers revived an old ritual of solidarity prominent in the uprisings of 1867 and 1877\u2014the strikers' march, \"a moving torrent of men, women and children closing every workplace in its path.\"5\n\nAt one shop, sheet metal workers agreed to remain at work because the proprietors answered their demands with a proposal that the firm share a certain percentage of the profits with the men, who would set their own hours at eight or more. \"The proposition, when presented to the men, was received with cheers and expressions of confidence which were very gratifying to the firm.\" Packinghouse owners decided to avoid a strike at the stockyards by letting the men \"have their way in the matter of fixing hours.\"6 Concessions like these emboldened other strikers. Spurred on by the anarchist leaders of the Central Labor Union, some workers, like a group of Bohemians on the lumber docks, began to act on the audacious demand of eight hours' work at ten hours' pay. In other places, laborers wanted not only more freedom _from_ work, but more freedom _at_ work. The German brewers and maltsters insisted on the eight-hour day achieved by other members of the Central Labor Union, but they also desired more free time to rest, eat their dinners, enjoy conversation and drink free beer. They proposed that two hours a day be set aside \"for visiting the tap room and for meals,\" meaning that a brewery worker could take \"the whole two hours for food and drink or divide up the time as he chooses.\" The _Tribune_ was aghast at the demand and about the news that the owners might comply \"with the terms and conditions of their thirsty Communistic hands.\"7\n\nAmid these surprising events, the most amazing development of all unfolded at the McCormick works, where locked-out union molders continued to harass the employees who kept the foundries and molding machines running under the protection of a police garrison. The workers inside the plant could not be quarantined, however, and as eight-hour marchers swept through the factories on the South Side, even loyal McCormick employees were infected. Half of the newly recruited replacement workers suddenly joined the strike movement. Management, now desperate to hold the loyal employees at work, promised the strikebreakers an eight-hour day if they would return, but made no such concession to the strikers, who remained locked out of the plant.8\n\n_Workers at Horn Brothers Furniture Company just prior to the May 1, 1886, strike_\n\nThe Great Upheaval was frightening to employers for many reasons, and not simply because it aroused militancy among loyal workers or because it propelled anarchists into leadership roles. The insurgency was largely nonviolent, so it could not be branded a civil insurrection; indeed, it was planned, coordinated and mobilized by a new kind of labor movement. It was a movement that pulled in immigrants and common laborers, as well as artisans, merchants and even populist farmers in Texas, where the Farmers' Alliance was regarded as \"the spinal column\" of a great people's war against railroad king Jay Gould. What happened on May 1, 1886, was more than a general strike; it was a \"populist moment\" when working people believed they could destroy plutocracy, redeem democracy and then create a new \"cooperative commonwealth.\"9\n\nWhat is more, the upheaval arose during an era of great uncertainty. The 1880s were years when the enormous power of industrial and financial capitalists had become fully apparent, but millions of Americans questioned the moral and social legitimacy of large private companies and their owners; when the laws of the market operated freely without any public restraints, but millions of Americans rejected those laws as immoral and inhumane; when wage labor had completely replaced slavery as well as most forms of industrial self-employment, and yet nearly all leaders of the first American labor movement denied that wage labor was free labor and agreed that the wage system had to be abolished. The events of the 1880s revealed other paradoxes as well. More Europeans than ever were emigrating to the United States, hoping and searching for liberty, yet immigrants increasingly questioned whether America was the land of liberty. Urban police forces began modernizing and arming themselves, yet middle- and upper-class city dwellers felt insecure and more worried about working-class violence than ever before. Federal armies had defeated all but a few Indian tribes and had brought \"civilization\" to the frontier, but the United States government was unprepared to deal with large-scale worker insurgency in its most advanced cities.\n\nON SATURDAY May 1 the sun shone brilliantly over the city of Chicago as workers took a \"holiday\" from their normal duties, and eight-hour marchers trod their way through industrial districts. The mood was a festive one, and the marches were peaceful. The Knights and Federation members carried the Stars and Stripes and held signs bearing symbols of their trade and the mottoes of the movement, while the anarchists waved crimson banners, though the _Tribune_ reported fewer red flags than were normally seen at Chicago street demonstrations.\n\nIt was a day the Internationals would never forget, and it was, as the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ predicted, a day of \"historical significance\" that would be appreciated in the future. Indeed, only four years later May Day gained symbolic power in the international labor movement as radical workers established a tradition of demonstrating their power by parading with red flags and wearing the crimson flowers of the season.10\n\nAs the sun sank over the prairie horizon that evening, the first day of the general strike ended peacefully. Saturday nights in Chicago were always filled with sounds of revelry that lasted long hours, but the evening of May 1, 1886, was an especially boisterous one. Striking workers joined their neighbors and shop mates dancing polkas and waltzes in music halls and drinking beer and whiskey in thousands of saloons uptown and downtown, from Swedish beer gardens on the North Side to the Irish pubs in Bridgeport. On Lake Street on the West Side, the gaslights in Grief's Hall and Zepf's Hall burned later than ever that night as German anarchists toasted each other and celebrated their \"Emancipation Day.\"\n\nThe English-speaking Knights of Labor and the trade unions celebrated May Day in a more formal way with an \"eight-hour ball\" in an armory, where 1,000 dancers enjoyed an evening of speeches and lively music\u2014all presided over by the movement's godfather and guest of honor, Andrew C. Cameron, the feisty printer and workingman's advocate who had initiated the city's first eight-hour movement in 1863, only to see it betrayed on another May Day, in 1867.\n\nThere was no dancing or merrymaking in store for Albert Parsons that night. While the city's workingmen drank to a new day, he rode a night train to Cincinnati, where 30,000 workers had struck that afternoon. The Internationals there wanted the famous Parsons to address a rally on Sunday and bring them news from the storm center of the great strike. The next morning Parsons took part in a second huge parade of eight-hour demonstrators led by 200 members of the Cincinnati Rifle Union bearing Winchester carbines. They marched behind a large red flag through downtown in a \"jolly\" mood, as one German striker recalled, because they were \"dead certain\" of victory. When they arrived at a park, Parsons addressed the throng and told them that their movement was not a \"foreign\" crusade, as their enemies charged. The desire for liberty and justice concerned all Americans, native and foreign-born.11\n\nMEANWHILE, THAT SUNDAY began quietly in Chicago, so quietly that many hoped the excitement had died down and that on Monday workers and employers would resolve their differences. There were no demonstrations, no marches led by rifle-toting Internationals. In fact, there were hopeful signs that the crisis might indeed end on Monday. The city's powerful railroad company executives met and raised the expectation that they might accept the freight haulers' demands. This action, if taken, would influence other employers to follow suit and make the eight-hour day a reality. \"Good feeling seemed to prevail in most quarters,\" according to one Sunday report, except in the old \"terror district\" around the lumberyards, where police detectives from the Hinman Street Station kept a close watch on Bohemian and Polish lumber shovers who had marched the day before with red flags and with American flags turned upside down.12\n\nTensions within the labor movement had not disappeared even amid this euphoria. George Schilling of the Eight-Hour Association was furious with his old comrade Parsons and other anarchists who raised the \"impossible demand\" of eight hours' work with no pay cut. A protracted session of the Trades and Labor Assembly led to a hot debate when the carpenters proposed making a closer alliance with the anarchist-led Central Labor Union because it had, according to some delegates, such \"great influence among the workingmen.\" The venerable A. C. Cameron warned against closer cooperation between the two bodies, because he could not see how those who carried the \"red flag of European socialism\" could be truly joined with those who carried the banner of American \"democratic republicanism.\" 13\n\nScores of other eight-hour meetings took place in other venues, such as Ulrich's Hall, where 300 male and female dry-goods clerks met to plan concerted action for shorter hours. Their own organization, the United Dry-Goods Clerks' Union, had asked their employers to close stores every night at six o'clock, except on Saturdays, and to remain shut all day Sunday. This proposal infuriated Marshall Field, the city's richest, most influential capitalist, and the first merchant to electrify his dry-goods establishment so that shopping and selling could go on in his State Street emporium from morning to evening seven days a week. That Sunday, Field seethed with anger at the owners of dry-goods stores like City of Paris who had already conceded to their salesclerks' requests to close up shop on the Christian Sabbath.14\n\nWhile Marshall Field fumed, railroad managers worried that the freight handlers' strike would expand and cripple midwestern commerce, and the owners of Great Lakes vessels feared that Bohemian strikers might set fire to their boats and to the nearby lumberyards. But most Chicagoans seemed to put their worst fears aside on that cool spring day of rest and enjoyed their normal Sunday activities. Families picnicked in the groves, couples strolled in Lincoln Park and derby-hatted men watched sandlot baseball games and talked with great anticipation about the opening of the professional season, when the city's heroic White Stockings were expected to take another pennant.\n\nThat morning, Protestant churches were full of worshipers listening to sermons titled \"Jesus, the Peacemaker\" and \"Labor and Capital Viewed in the Light of Christ's Dictum\" by ministers who felt compelled to address the burning question of the day. The city's most liberal clergyman, Dr. Hiram W. Thomas, known as \"the Emerson of our American pulpit,\" addressed the social question directly. Preaching in a tabernacle attached to McVicker's Theater, Thomas sensed a queer uneasiness sweeping the land as workmen made unrealistic, immoderate demands. He wondered if there was something in the stars that caused working people to question the way of the world. There would always be men with property and men without, he explained. Workmen should realize that capitalists made their labor possible. \"The laboring classes,\" he concluded, \"are trying to wrestle from fate a thing that fate had made impossible.\"15\n\nThe city's famous revivalist, Dwight L. Moody, who rarely addressed political questions, departed from his usual form that day. The great Moody, who had returned from evangelistic labors in the South, spoke with his penetrating voice to 5,000 people at a Sunday-evening service at the Casino Rink. \"What's all the unrest of this strike that's agitating the city?\" he wondered. It seemed natural that workingmen were simply \"in the pursuit of rest.\" But it was a vain pursuit, he warned, because there was no rest, not for the mechanic or even for the millionaire. \"There is only one place where it can be found,\" Moody preached: \"at the foot of the cross.\" This message reassured a nervous audience of middle-class Protestants who hoped that Moody's words would inspire the restless urban masses, whose refusal to work for more than eight hours seemed like a wild intoxication that would pass on Monday when business resumed as usual and employees came to their senses.16\n\nAND INDEED, ON MAY 3, it seemed that the passive mood of Sunday might prevail. In the planing-mill section of the lumber district along 22nd Street, the day passed quietly, even though the side streets swarmed with strikers and locked-out men who enjoyed playing games and drinking bock beer on the streets.17 Uptown, 400 girls and women left their sewing shops on Division Street in a joyous mood; they \"shouted and sang and laughed in a whirlwind of exuberance that did not lessen with the distance traveled.\" Several hundred workingmen followed, offering their support. The whole carnival-like procession was headed by two tall Bohemians armed respectively with an ax and a mallet. When the strikers crossed the river and streamed into the downtown area, their chants and songs became more vociferous. A reporter described them as \"shouting Amazons\" infected \"with a particularly malignant form of the eight-hour malady\"\u2014that is, they were demanding the same wages for less work.18\n\nThe anarchists were thrilled by the progress of the eight-hour strike. Many city employers had already given in and more would follow. The railroads would have to yield because, one socialist observed, they had too much at stake and could not afford to be idle. He expected further that the Knights would soon bring out the English-speaking workers, who had been holding back awaiting developments. This prediction seemed to be validated later that day, when two English-speaking crews of workers walked out of the Pullman wheel shops to win eight hours' work at ten hours' pay. More were expected to follow on the morrow. Even the residents of George Pullman's model town were stirring.19\n\nThe labor movement had much to celebrate on May 3. The brewery owners agreed to employ only union members, to reduce the use of apprentice boys, to limit Sunday work to three hours and to set five break periods each day when workers could drink beer in the taprooms. More important, when the pork and beef producers gathered at the Grand Pacific Hotel to discuss an unexpected strike of 3,000 butchers and laborers in five packinghouses for increased wages and decreased hours, they agreed to an experimental settlement offering to pay their men at the ten-hour rate for a reduced workday. The labor movement was, it seemed, \"having things pretty much its own way.\"20\n\nThen, on the afternoon of May 3, came news of two calamitous events that shook the confidence of the ebullient strikers.\n\nFirst came word that the Knights of Labor had been vanquished on Jay Gould's railroads. Their national leader, Terence Powderly, had unilaterally ended the southwestern strike because he believed it was doomed to failure. At the _Tribune,_ Joseph Medill composed a stern editorial: \"The Southwestern Knights have been starved into submission . . . ,\" he proclaimed. \"The surrender is unconditional.\" Management would take back only such strikers as it saw fit, \"leaving all the other instigators, agitators and perpetrators of violent acts permanently blacklisted.\" When this news arrived in railway offices, it galvanized the superintendents, who then organized an unprecedented meeting at the Burlington Building. The railroad managers announced the next morning that every man who did not appear for work would be discharged and his place filled by a new employee.21\n\nThe lumberyard owners also deliberated over their employees' demands that day. The stakes could not be higher, said a _Tribune_ editorial; enormous amounts of skill and capital had been invested to keep the Chicago trade strong in the face of competition from many new lumber centers. Now the strike of \"Communistic yard men and lumber-handlers\" put the whole industry in jeopardy. \"The suddenness of the blow has paralyzed this great business and there is no alternative left but to stop it,\" the editorial concluded.\n\nOnce again, Chicago capital had its back up, as it had when the eight-hour law was to take effect on May 1, 1867, and once again, city leaders had their armed forces at the ready. However, conditions had changed: the old-time police department had included only 250 patrolmen to protect an enormous city; by 1886 the force had grown to nearly 1,000 well-armed officers, including the nation's largest corps of battle-tested veterans, men experienced in suppressing demonstrations, controlling riots and breaking strikes. Chief Inspector Bonfield placed the regular force on round-the-clock alert and ordered training exercises for a reserve force of 75 men recruited from the banks, commercial houses and railroad companies to serve as specials. Militia commanders also prepared their troops for action. The area around the First Regiment Armory was abuzz with activity as National Guard companies drilled in the streets, while soldiers assembled their new Gatling gun.22\n\nThe second shocking event of May 3 occurred on the Black Road at the gates of the McCormick works, the scene of many violent clashes in the past. On this afternoon a fatal confrontation took place that set relentless forces in motion, forces that would propel striking workers and Chicago policemen toward the tragic climax of their struggle.\n\nAUGUST SPIES SEEMED to be everywhere in the city on that tension-packed Monday, putting together a general strike edition of the _Arbeiter-Zeitung,_ rallying the striking sewing girls and addressing groups of strikers all over the city. By Monday, he was exhausted from weeks of speaking in public and late nights spent putting out a daily newspaper, but he was elated by the breadth and depth of the general strike. Early in the afternoon a Czech leader of the lumber workers asked Spies to come down to the Southwest Side and speak to a meeting of German and Bohemian lumber shovers on the prairie along Blue Island Avenue. Spies was reluctant to make the trip and give yet another speech, but a committee of workers insisted that he was needed and persuaded him to go.\n\nArriving at the rally about three o'clock, Spies was impressed by the size of the crowd but dismayed that the speakers were so poor and that workers seemed uninterested. He mounted a boxcar on the Burlington tracks and began to speak in German to the lumber shovers gathered on the railbed and the prairie beyond. Behind him, a short distance away, the machinery of the McCormick Reaper Works ground away. At the rear of the crowd in front of him was a group of 200 restless workers who had been locked out of the plant and had endured weeks of combat with Pinkertons and policemen around what they called \"Fort McCormick.\"23\n\nShortly after he began, Spies was heckled by some Catholic strikers, but he persisted. The speaker carried on for about twenty minutes, addressing the eight-hour question and telling the men \"to hold together, to stand by their union, or they would not succeed.\" He referred mostly to the struggle in the lumberyards and did not mention the McCormick lockout. While he was still orating, the factory bell at McCormick's clanged behind him, signaling the end of the workday for the strikebreakers still toiling in the plant. Before Spies could grasp what was happening, someone cried out in an \"unknown tongue\" (probably Czech or Polish) that the scabs were leaving the plant. The group of McCormick strikers wheeled away en masse and surged toward the factory gates. Spies continued to speak, urging the lumber shovers not to join the rush on the plant. Then he heard the crackle of gunfire from the factory yard. He was told the strikers had attacked the strikebreakers and that the police were firing on them. Again, he beseeched his audience to remain still. But it was no use. Most of the lumber shovers fled up the Black Road back to Pilsen.\n\nSpies clambered down from the boxcar and ran toward the plant, where he saw a wild melee in progress. Roughly 200 police officers were attacking the strikers with clubs and firing at them with their pistols. Some men were hiding behind railroad cars on the Burlington spur, and others were running as the police fired pistols at them. The sight, Spies recalled, made his blood boil. A young Irishman peeked out from behind a car and told Spies that he had seen two men lying dead and that four others had been killed by police gunfire. After hearing this, Spies raced back to the lumber shovers' rally and urged those who remained to come to the aid of the men under attack, but few workers remained on the prairie, and none of them rallied to his call. He looked back down the Black Road to the reaper works and said to himself, \"The battle is lost.\"\n\n_Painting of August Spies speaking near the_ _McCormick Reaper Works on May 3, 1886_\n\nSpies returned to his newspaper office with the sound of Colt revolvers ringing in his ears and dashed off a circular denouncing the attack. \"I was very indignant,\" he later testified. \"I knew from experience of the past that this butchering of people was done for the express purpose of defeating the eight-hour movement.\" Spies sent his leaflet to a compositor, who boldly added his own single-word title at the top of the leaflet: REVENGE! The rest of the text read: \"Workingmen, to Arms!!! Your masters sent out their bloodhounds\u2014the police\u2014they killed six of your brothers at McCormick's this afternoon.\"24\n\nFor days Spies had been speaking as a leader of a disciplined union campaign for the eight-hour demand. Now the voice of the revolutionary broke through: \"You have for years endured the most abject humiliations; you have endured the pangs of hunger and want; you have worked yourself to death; your children you have sacrificed to the factory lords.\" Worse yet was what happened when the workers demanded relief: the master sent \"his bloodhounds out to shoot you to kill you!\" \"If you are men,\" the circular concluded, \"if you are the sons of grand sires who have shed their blood to free you, then you will rise in your might, Hercules, and destroy the hideous monster that seeks to destroy you. To arms, we call you. To arms!\"25\n\nTHAT NIGHT, ANARCHISTS DISTRIBUTED hundreds of English and German copies of what came to be known as the \"Revenge\" circular. A horseman rode down Lake Street dropping leaflets at union halls and saloons, including Grief's Hall, where anarchists of the Northwest Side group were meeting in the basement. George Engel and Adolph Fischer attended the meeting, as did two commanders of the Lehr und Wehr Verein. These were hard men who had little faith in the eight-hour movement or in the leadership of union-oriented anarchists like Spies, Schwab, Parsons and Fielden.\n\nThis meeting would later take on enormous significance in the trial of the eight anarchists accused of the Haymarket bombing, even though only two of the defendants, Engel and Fischer, were present in Thomas Grief's saloon cellar that night. During the trial prosecutors would describe this gathering as the birthplace of the \"Monday night conspiracy\" to commit murder and mayhem at the rally the next evening. Two anarchists who turned state's evidence in return for cash and safe passage out of the country testified that this group endorsed a plan Engel had laid out the night before to organize an armed response in case the police attacked striking workers. In the event of a dire crisis, a signal would be given by the appearance of the word _Ruhe_ (rest) in the letter column of the _Arbeiter-Zeitung._ Then, according to the witnesses, armed groups would form to take action, bringing down telegraph lines, storming arsenals, bombing police stations and shooting law officers\u2014all tactics, said the state's attorney, prescribed in Johann Most's writings. However, Engel also made it clear, according to witnesses, that the plan would take effect \" _only_ in the event of a police attack\"\u2014that is, as an act of armed self-defense. 26\n\nThis serious business had been transacted when news of the deaths at McCormick's arrived. Shouts and curses burst forth from the men in Grief's basement. They were determined to respond to the outrage, but they did not decide to put Engel's plan into action. Instead, the group agreed to organize a public protest rally the next day in the usual meeting place on Market Street. Fischer argued, however, that this enclosed block would serve as \"a mouse trap\" if the police assaulted the assembly; and so the group agreed to hold the event the next evening in a much larger space\u2014at the Haymarket, west of the river, where Randolph Street widened after it crossed Desplaines Street.27\n\nAs the Northwest Side anarchists headed home from Grief's Hall, the city's newspaper editors prepared their reports on what happened on the Black Road that afternoon. The _Tribune_ offered the news this way: \"Wrought up by the inflammatory harangues of a lot of rabid Anarchists, a mob of nearly 10,000 men, most of them fighting drunk, attacked the employees of the McCormick Reaper Company as they came home from work yesterday afternoon.\" When reinforcements arrived, \"a sharp battle between the police and the rabble followed\" in which a number of men in the mob were shot and carried away by their friends. The newspaper blamed one man, August Spies, for this \"barbarian attack\" upon the reaper factory.28\n\nThat evening, after quiet descended on the Black Road, the police escorted the employees trapped in the McCormick works to their homes. As they did, the wives, daughters and mothers of strikers attacked the officers with stones and sticks while shouting curses at them in broken English. At one point, police charged on these angry women and drove them off the streets.29 \"A bitter and vindictive spirit\" prevailed on the South Side toward the police, according to the _Tribune,_ but the forces of law and order had triumphed in Chicago's worst trouble spot. Chief Inspector Bonfield announced that the city was secure. \"I believe we are strong enough to suppress any uprising,\" he declared. The police were ready to take action in all potential trouble spots. There would be more rioting, Bonfield warned, with \"some blood spilling perhaps,\" but he did not anticipate anything like the riots of 1877. \"The police had finally grappled with the McCormick rioters in dead earnest,\" a reporter observed, and whenever the men in blue were aroused to that point, he added, \"then peace was sure to come to the city.\"30\nChapter Eleven\n\n _A Night of Terror_\n\nMAY 4, 1886\n\n\"A FAIRER MORNING than that which smiled across the blue waters of Lake Michigan on the 4th day of May, 1886, never dawned upon the city of Chicago,\" wrote the journalist John J. Flinn. \"The wounded, crippled, bruised and bleeding anarchists who looked out upon it must have been maddened by the perfect beauty of the new day, the clearness of the sky, the freshness of the atmosphere, and the glorious awakening of Nature from her long sleep, made manifest in every peeping blade of grass and swelling bud.\" The sun rose on a quiet city, and to those who attended to business that morning \"it seemed as though the excitement occasioned by the eight-hour strikes and the troubles at McCormick's was about to subside at last.\"1\n\nIn fact, the bloody rout of strikers at the reaper works did not end the excitement; on May 4 the strikes resumed, and tension began to grow by the hour. That day the _Tribune_ reported acts of rebellion all over the city as ordinary working people behaved in extraordinary ways. A dozen laundry girls employed at the Clifton House Hotel told their foreman they wanted to run things their own way; when he refused, they got together and quit work. Two hundred pupils in a Bridgeport school named for the city's military hero, General Phil Sheridan, engaged in a miniature riot and demanded a one-hour reduction in the school day. When the principal refused, the boys went out and began \"to demolish the windows of the school house\" and, in one journalist's view, to \"deport themselves as fullfledged strikers,\" until a police patrol restored order in the school yard. Groups of young women from the clothing shops turned their protest for an eight-hour day into a general strike; at one shop strikers removed the belt from an engine and brought everything to a standstill, and then laughed at the owner's predicament.2\n\n_Map of Chicago showing locations of major strikes taking place during the Great_ _Upheaval from April 25 to May 4, 1886_\n\nThe _Tribune_ 's leg men also saw more worrisome \"specks of war\" arising from the freight yards and lumberyards. The dreaded freight handlers' strike seemed about to become a general one, because the railroad managers had rejected their employees' proposal. Business came to a halt at the Rock Island freight house and several others as well. Office clerks and managers handled freight in some warehouses, but movement was very slow. Even the officials of the imperial Chicago, Burlington & Quincy were \"rattled,\" the _Tribune_ reported. They fretted even more when union switchmen on the Fort Wayne road left the yards clogged with trains on tracks shared by many other railroads using the busy Union Depot. Some railroad chiefs remained openly concerned about the reliability of the police department, and therefore called for the creation of a law-and-order league that would enlist all the businessmen of Chicago to aid the railroads and to \"save the city from ruination.\"\n\nMeanwhile, along the South Branch of the Chicago River scores of vessels rode at anchor in the docks and slips, their cargoes untouched, because the lumber shovers had decided to stop work until they received ten hours' pay for eight hours' work. The _Tribune_ quoted an angry member of the union who said of the yard owners: \"They want to starve us. We told them if we didn't cull the lumber, they could not sell it, and they said they'd cull it and sell it in spite of us. Well, I tell you, we are not going to starve.\" Before the bosses moved their lumber with scab labor, he warned, the strikers might burn it. The worker was promptly arrested and charged with disorderly conduct.\n\nFarther south, in Pullman town, union workers sent a committee to the company's palatial offices on Michigan Avenue to present their demands to Mr. Pullman. The delegation included cabinetmakers, tinners, finishers, carpenters, wood turners, car builders, wheelwrights, upholsterers and even common laborers who demanded a larger wage increase than the others. Suddenly, Pullman's paternalistic world was turned upside down. His workers had never dared to speak up, but now these \"dependent, servile\" people had found their voices.3\n\nPullman refused the committee's demands, complaining that the company's profits were not sufficient to allow a wage increase or a reduction in hours. Disappointed and discontented, the committeemen returned by train to the model city, where at 7 p.m. they met with all of Pullman's 3,000 employees at the company baseball park. After hooting at their employer's response to their demands, the employees voted en masse to endorse their committee's strike recommendation.\n\nFollowing Pullman's lead, other major employers stiffened their resolve. The Furniture Makers' Association gained scores of new members over the weekend; they met that Tuesday to declare their unanimous resolve against granting the union shorter hours at higher pay and against dealing with the union in any way. After the strike was defeated, declared the owners, they would take back strikers selectively, one man at a time. Meanwhile, the railroad managers formed a common front to put pressure on a few company executives who were inclined to yield to their workers' demands. In making their case, the militant managers had reportedly expressed the fear that \"Communist blatherskates\" would wrest leadership of the freight handlers' strike from the \"cool headed leaders\" and might incite the men to violence. The Metal Manufacturers' Association also decided on all-out resistance to the eight-hour movement. The owners of some machine shops and foundries had already agreed to reduce the workday to eight hours when their employees accepted a two-hour reduction in wages. But on May 4 the association forced those owners to renege on their agreements and take a hard line on any reduction of hours. A. C. Cameron, chair of the mainstream Eight-Hour Committee, despaired because the employers were no longer considering how to settle the eight-hour strike; instead, they were uniting to force their employees back to work.\n\nBesides refusing all concessions to their employees, anxious employers demanded a call-up of the militia to intimidate the strikers and protect strikebreakers. At noon on May 4, Colonel E. B. Knox, commander of the First Infantry Regiment, received a call warning that a mob of 6,000 strikers had formed in the lumber district and was marching downtown. Knox issued a call to arms and, within an hour, the National Guard armory was bustling with military activity. The mob from the \"terror district\" never arrived downtown because its existence was a fabrication, concocted perhaps by a nervous employer or an imaginative reporter. In any case, the threat of a unified workers' movement focused on a common demand provoked an extremely well-cordinated response from the most powerful entrepreneurs in the Midwest, their financial backers in the East and their local allies. Businessmen who had been ruthless competitors now joined hands to battle a \"common danger\"\u2014a mass strike by workers who challenged the laws of political economy and who risked provoking bloody civil strife. So, in Chicago, as in New York, the Great Upheaval marked a crucial moment in what one historian called \"the consolidation of the American bourgeoisie.\"4\n\nBusiness leaders were so alarmed by the working-class mobilization of May 1886 that they went far beyond invoking the laws of supply and demand in condemning collective efforts to raise wages and reduce hours. The field of forces had changed so radically that employers now threatened to employ the \"whole machinery of government,\" including the military, to \"enforce the laws of the market.\" However, the man in charge of state government in Illinois was not ready to crank up that machinery. A few hours after the National Guard was marshaled in Chicago, Governor Richard Oglesby, an experienced military officer, told the militia commander he had exceeded his authority and that he should disband his regiment until he received further orders. Oglesby was troubled by the vagueness of the Illinois statute applying to the use of state militia. He knew the pressure a governor could endure from agents of \"incorporated wealth,\" who impatiently demanded the use of militia in cases of threatened violence, as well as from elements of the press, who were ready to \"malign, misrepresent and intimidate\" public officials who refused to do their bidding. Oglesby's decision to restrain the militia earned angry rebukes from his Republican backers in Chicago, but he resisted further pressure to call out the troops. The governor believed that Chicago was so explosive that putting militia in the streets might well cause a violent eruption.5\n\nMeanwhile, downtown at the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ office, the editors put together an afternoon edition of the daily. Spies, still infuriated by the killings he had witnessed on the Black Road the day before, wrote a column denouncing the police as trained \"bloodhounds\" and admonishing the McCormick strikers for being caught unprepared. Spies had no idea that he was tightening a noose that would later wring his neck when he wrote that the workers at the harvester plant could have defended themselves had they carried guns, as the Internationals had suggested. If the strikers, pitifully armed with stones, had instead been equipped \"with good weapons and one single dynamite bomb not one of the murderers would have escaped his well-deserved fate.\"6\n\nUnbeknownst to Spies, two young anarchist carpenters, Louis Lingg and William Seliger, were busily making bombs that day at Seliger's home on the North Side. After he was later arrested and turned state's evidence, Seliger testified that Lingg had been doing so for several weeks, and that on May 4 both men had stayed home to work diligently at the task with three other comrades. Together, they manufactured thirty or forty explosive devices that afternoon but made no plans for where or when to use them. According to Seliger, Lingg simply told his fellow bomb makers that the infernal devices would be \"good fodder\" to feed the police when they attacked.7\n\nIf Spies had known about the bomb factory, he might have approved of it, because he was convinced that the massacre at McCormick's was a rehearsal for something worse to come, some awful attack strikers must be prepared to resist in order to defend themselves. Yet the publisher vacillated that day as he issued violent threats on the one hand and made cautionary warnings on the other. After finishing his angry editorial, Spies objected strenuously when he read a militant leaflet prepared to announce the protest meeting at the Haymarket that night. Spies's compositor, Adolph Fischer, had taken it upon himself to add the words \"Working men, arm yourselves and appear in full force,\" even though no one at the Grief's Hall planning meeting had suggested that workers bring guns to the rally. Spies reacted angrily, fearing these words would frighten people and reduce the crowd at the Haymarket, and that the call to arms would heighten the chances of a police assault. He then said he would refuse to speak at the meeting as requested unless Fischer's bellicose words were removed from the leaflet. The presses were held up and the provocative line was stricken from all but a few hundred of the flyers.8\n\n_Flyer announcing the Haymarket meeting_ _on May 4, 1886_\n\nSpies rode home to Wicker Park that afternoon to get some rest and eat a supper prepared by his doting mother. \"I was very tired and ill humored,\" he recalled. His mind must have been spinning as he pondered some awful questions. Where would the next massacre occur\u2014in the freight yards or in the lumberyards, on one of the viaducts or in a Turner hall, the places where unarmed workers had been slain by police in 1877? Would the workers be prepared this time? Would the next attack become the revolutionary moment he dreamed of, or would the people be slaughtered again as they were in Paris when the Commune was obliterated? And yet, maybe the next confrontation would have a different outcome. Maybe his own highly visible activity could somehow, even against long odds, turn an impending tragedy into a history-making victory.\n\nAFTER SPIES ATE SUPPER in Wicker Park, he and his brother Henry set out for the Haymarket on foot. \"We walked slowly down Milwaukee Avenue,\" he recalled, because it was warm. The revolver he usually carried was a bother, because he had changed clothes and the gun was too large for his pocket. So Spies stopped at a hardware store and left the pistol with the owner, Frank Stauber, the socialist councilman who had been unseated in 1880. Spies told his brother that he did not expect any violence at the market that night because he did not believe that the police would attack \"an orderly meeting of citizens.\"9\n\nWhat Spies did not know was that six companies of city police had already gathered half a block away from the Haymarket in the Desplaines Street Station under the command of Captain William Ward, who had been ordered to move all available men from his precinct\u2014100 in all\u2014to reinforce the detail at the station. By early evening a formidable force of 176 patrolmen had assembled.10 Nor would Spies have known that a squad of detectives in plain clothing had been ordered to mix with the crowd when it assembled, or that Inspector Bonfield had insisted on assuming overall command of the force at the Desplaines Street Station, that the police were \"arming for war\" with Colt .50s and that ammunition was being sent to stations in different sections of the city along with the order \"Don't spare your powder.\"11\n\nWhat Spies did know was that Bonfield's men had fired pistols at unarmed men on the Black Road. They had abandoned the chief inspector's policy of using extremely brutal force with clubs in order to avoid the use of bullets. The Chicago Police Department had no official policy on bearing and using firearms, but all officers carried guns in their pants pockets or in specially tailored overcoat pockets and could use them at their discretion.12\n\nAs the Spies brothers approached the market district from the north, they walked past George Engel's toy store and Aurora Turner Hall on Milwaukee Avenue, then headed south on Desplaines Street. The two men arrived late at the site of the demonstration, which they expected to be in progress. It was about 8:15 p.m., but nothing had been done to start the meeting. Groups of men were standing in the Haymarket, smoking, murmuring, waiting for something to happen. August Spies had expected Albert Parsons to kick off the rally, but he was nowhere to be seen. After searching the area for his comrade, Spies returned to the market, and, seeing a smaller gathering than expected on Randolph Street, he moved the group out of the market around the corner onto Desplaines Street. Then he jumped up on a hay wagon sitting in front of an alley by the Crane Brothers' Foundry and called the meeting to order. Before he began speaking, Spies sent one of his newspaper employees back to the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ office, where he had heard that Parsons, Fielden and Schwab were attending a meeting with Lucy Parsons and Lizzie Holmes to discuss organizing more women in the clothing shops.\n\nIn fact, Albert Parsons did not know he was supposed to speak at the protest rally. He had returned from Cincinnati that morning fatigued from his long train trip but exhilarated by the massive eight-hour demonstrations he had witnessed. After a morning nap, Lucy awakened him to tell him her own exciting news of a mass meeting of \"tailor girls\" who, she now believed, could be organized to join the eight-hour movement en masse. Parsons then walked downtown to Grief's Hall to find a room for such a meeting. But since all the halls were occupied with eight-hour strike meetings, he had to settle for the little room in the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ office. While he was making these arrangements, Parsons was invited to speak at the Haymarket meeting; he declined because he had already made other plans and because, as he later revealed, he did not approve of holding an outdoor rally on May 4 since he feared the police would break it up and, as a result, more violence would ensue.13\n\nLater that afternoon Parsons met two reporters on the West Side who asked him where he would speak that night. During the interview, one of the reporters later testified that \"Mrs. Parsons and some children came up just then and Parsons stopped a car and slapped me familiarly on the back, and asked me if I was armed, and I said, 'No. Have you any dynamite?' \" Parsons laughed at this, and Lucy said jokingly of her husband: \"He is a very dangerous-looking man, isn't he?\" Later that evening, after eating supper, Albert and Lucy left their home at 245 West Indiana with their two children and Lizzie Holmes and made their way downtown to meet with the \"tailor girls.\"14\n\nMeanwhile, across the river in Haymarket Square, workers had gathered in the dark, waiting for the protest rally to begin. Unable to locate Parsons, Spies returned to the market and began the rally. Nearly spent, he decided to speak briefly and simply in English. The small size of the crowd, far smaller than the rally organizers had expected, deflated him even more. It was already quite dark in the dreary street, which smelled of horse manure and rotting vegetables. A single gaslight on a lamppost had been lit, casting eerie shadows on the factory walls. By day, the market was a jumble of horse carts that streamed in from the German and Dutch truck farms outside the city, bringing in tons of hay and bushels of vegetables.15 By night, this lively market scene disappeared and the district took on an ugly, forbidding aura. It was bounded by huge piles of dirt from railroad construction, a few rows of \"pitiful, wretched houses\" crowded together like huts, a \"horrendous grey-black junk shop\" and the large foundry on Desplaines Street owned by the Crane brothers. The only cheerful signs of life in the dark streets came from the gaslight showing through the smoky windows of Zepf's Hall on Lake Street and the bright electric lights on the marquee of the Lyceum Theater on Randolph Street.16\n\nSpies began by saying that the meeting should be peaceable, that it was called not to raise a disturbance but to protest the killing of strikers and to rally workers to the eight-hour movement. For twenty years, he declared, workingmen had asked in vain for two hours less work a day, only to be betrayed by legislators and treated with contempt by their employers. He then spoke about his role in the battle at McCormick's, calling the factory's owner \"an infamous liar\" for saying that he, Spies, had caused the riot. The men who stormed the reaper works the previous day were not anarchists but \"good, honest, law-abiding, church-going citizens,\" who had been goaded to madness by the lockout. Spies said that when he first tried to speak at the rally on the Black Road, some workers in the crowd objected that he was a socialist, and that when he tried to restrain the breakaway group, they ignored him and, \"like ignorant children, they indulged in bombarding the plant with stones.\"\n\nThen Spies caught sight of the man he was looking for making his way happily through the crowd. \"I see Mr. Parsons is here,\" he said with relief, realizing that his comrade had changed his mind about attending the rally. \"He is a much abler speaker in your tongue than I am,\" Spies remarked, \"therefore I will conclude by introducing him.\" 17 Parsons parted company with his family, and then, as Lucy seated herself on a nearby cart with the two children and Lizzie Holmes, he climbed up on the wagon near Crane's Alley and looked out on a street that was now packed from sidewalk to sidewalk with 3,000 workers.\n\nThe speaker began by calling the audience's attention to the discontent of the working class, not only in Chicago but throughout the world, and he declared that all this distress meant there was \"something radically wrong with the existing order.\" He referred to his travels to depressed cities and industrial valleys where he met thousands of workers clamoring for redress and relief. He also spoke of \"compulsory idleness and starvation wages and how these things drove workingmen to desperation\u2014to commit acts for which they ought not be held responsible.\"18\n\nParsons reminded his listeners of the newspaper editorials inciting violence against strikers and tramps. He quoted Tom Scott, the railroad baron, who said of the striking trainmen in 1877: \"Give them a rifle diet and see how they like that bread.\" He indicted another robber baron, Jay Gould, who had hired thugs in East St. Louis to fire on unarmed workingmen. At the mention of Gould's name, someone in the crowd yelled, \"Hang him!\" Parsons paused and said that this conflict was not about individuals, that it was about changing a system and that socialists did not aim to take the life of a millionaire like Gould but rather to end the causes that created the pauper and the millionaire.\n\nWhen Parsons resumed, he condemned the police for the outrage at the McCormick plant the previous day as well as the newspaper editor who falsely charged him with inciting trouble at a time when he was out of town. He concluded by saying that all citizens who loved liberty and independence should arm themselves or else they would see their rights trampled underfoot and see themselves shot in the streets like dogs. 19\n\nMayor Carter Harrison stood on the street smoking his cigar and listening as Parsons spoke. Harrison had decided to attend the meeting because he wanted to make sure the assembly did not lead to another riot like the one at McCormick's. He thought that if the Haymarket meeting threatened violence, it would be better for the mayor to personally disperse the protesters than to order any policeman to do it. Harrison was a courageous man not afraid to confront public assemblies, as he had demonstrated earlier that day when he rode his white horse through town, visiting places where strikers congregated. Some of them hooted and jeered at him, but he was not physically assaulted. 20\n\nIn the midst of Parsons's oration, Harrison walked a short distance to the Desplaines Street Police Station and told Inspector Bonfield that the speakers were \"tame.\" He had heard no call for the use of force; he had seen no one in the street with weapons in their hands, and so, the mayor later testified, he told Bonfield that since \"nothing had occurred yet or was likely to occur to require interference,\" he \"thought the chief had better issue orders to his reserves at the other stations to go home.\" Bonfield replied that \"he thought about the same way.\" 21\n\nWhen Harrison returned to the meeting from the police station, Samuel Fielden was addressing the crowd in a loud voice. Still dressed in his dusty work clothes, the speaker alluded to premonitions of danger everywhere. 22 After listening to Fielden for a few minutes, Mayor Harrison relit his cheroot so that it would illuminate his bearded face\u2014the most familiar visage in Chicago. He wanted the men on the wagon and the men in the audience to see that he was there. He listened to Fielden shouting to the crowd but heard him say nothing to incite violence. Shortly after 10 p.m. Harrison mounted his horse and, with a tip of his black slouch hat to the crowd, trotted off down Randolph Street toward his mansion on Ashland Avenue, relieved that the day had passed without more bloodshed.23\n\nWHILE THE HAYMARKET MEETING continued on the West Side, Louis Lingg and William Seliger busied themselves on the North Side, loading the bombs they had made into a trunk. According to Seliger's later testimony, they carried the trunk to Neff's Hall on Clybourn Avenue, where several men appeared and took some of the explosive devices away with them; Lingg and Seliger took some as well. After they left the hall, the two carpenters walked past the Larrabee Street Police Station, where Lingg reportedly said \"it would be a beautiful thing if we could walk over and throw one or two bombs in the station.\" Then the two young men went to a nearby saloon and had a glass of beer.24\n\nMeanwhile, at the rally, Fielden was bringing his speech to a close with angry words about the workingmen at McCormick's factory who had been shot down by the police in cold blood. This was a horrible example, he told the crowd, of how the law was framed and executed by their oppressors. \"Keep your eye on the law,\" he cried. \"Throttle it. Kill it. Stop it. Do everything you can to wound it\u2014to impede its progress.\" After hearing this, one of Bonfield's detectives decided to report back to the chief inspector and tell him that the speaker was making incendiary remarks. 25\n\nAt this point the weather changed. The moonlit sky suddenly darkened, and the crowd was chilled as a black cloud blew over the West Side. A storm seemed to be brewing. Albert Parsons, worried about his children getting cold, suggested adjournment to Zepf's Hall. Fielden said this was not necessary because he was about to conclude. Parsons left anyway with Lucy, Lizzie, and his children, and some people in the crowd who followed them to Zepf's Hall on Lake Street, less than a block away. Even Adolph Fischer, who wrote the militant call for the meeting, departed the rally for the warmth of the saloon.\n\nAt 10:20 p.m. only about 500 people remained on the dark street listening to Fielden speak as a light drizzle fell. The speaker concluded his remarks to a shivering audience by saying: \"The Socialists are not going to declare war; but I tell you war has been declared upon us; and I ask you to get ahold of anything that will help you resist the onslaught of the enemy.\" Then Fielden noticed a disturbance to his left at the corner of Randolph Street.\n\nA tremor passed through the crowd as people saw through the dim gaslight an advancing column of blue coats that stretched across the entire width of Desplaines Street. George Brown, a young Yorkshire-born shoemaker, observed what he described as \"a great company of police with their revolvers drawn, rushing into the crowd which parted to make way for them.\" 26 The column covered the 180 feet from the station to the wagon in what seemed like a few heartbeats. The police commander, Captain William Ward, cried halt to his men and, with Inspector Bonfield at his side, exclaimed, \"I command you in the name of the people of the state of Illinois to immediately and peaceably disperse.\" Fielden protested, saying, \"But we are peaceable.\" A tense moment of silence followed, and Ward repeated his command. Then Fielden replied, \"All right, we will go,\" and moved to climb down to the street.27\n\nAt that moment, when all was quiet, scores of heads turned to look into the dark sky, where many people heard a hissing sound and then looked to see a lighted object arching out of the distance toward the front ranks of the police. One man thought it was a lighted cigar, but Lieutenant J. P. Stanton knew better. A veteran of the Union navy who commanded the third division of police, he recognized what he saw passing over his head: he had had enough active service to know what a bombshell looked like. He shouted frantically to his men, \"Look out. Boys, for God's sake, there is a shell.\" A few men looked up, but there was no time to react when an orange flash lit the night sky and a terrific detonation resounded in the street. 28\n\nAugust Spies had just jumped off the hay wagon when he heard the blast, but he could not see what had happened. His first thought was that the police had fired a cannon into the crowd. In the next instant Spies heard a fusillade erupt from police pistols. \"Everybody was running, and people fell, struck by bullets, right and left.\" As he crossed in front of Crane's Alley, a number of officers rushed past Spies into the opening, some of them crying out that they had been hurt. \"They had evidently been shot by their own comrades, and sought protection in the alley,\" Spies observed. Spies and his brother Henry found themselves in the midst of the fleeing patrolmen, ducking to avoid the bullets whistling past them. 29\n\nAs gunfire rattled around Desplaines Street and men screamed out in agony, someone slipped up behind August Spies and stuck a six-shooter in his back. Before the assassin could pull the trigger, Henry Spies grabbed the gun. It discharged into his groin, and he fell down. The Spies brothers then became separated in the sea of humanity roiling around in the black street. \"I lost my brother in the throng,\" Spies wrote, recreating the scene, \"and was carried away to the north.\" He fell a few times over other men who had dropped to the street, but he made it safely to Zepf's Hall, where he learned for the first time that the explosion he survived had probably been caused by a bomb.30\n\nJust after he ordered Fielden to disperse the meeting, Captain William Ward heard a cry and turned to see the \"bomb or shell thrown from the east side of Desplaines Street about 15 feet from the alley where there were a lot of boxes.\" He saw it immediately, attracted by the light thrown off by its sizzling fuse. The grenade exploded almost as soon as it hit the ground, about eight or ten feet from where Ward stood, splintering the wooden blocks that lined the street and filling the night air with acrid smoke. \"I think I heard a shot to the east of me,\" he recalled, \"and then I heard the command of some officer to the police to charge\" followed by \"a terrific firing from the officers.\" After the gunfire abated, Ward hurried back toward the station. It was then that he saw lying on the southwest corner of Desplaines and Randolph, a half block from the bomb's point of impact, the body of Officer Mathias Degan. He was already near death from his wounds.31\n\nAlbert Parsons was holding a schooner of beer, looking out Zepf's window toward the remnants of the rally, when he saw what appeared to be \"a white sheet of light at the place of the meeting, followed by a loud roar and then a hail storm of bullets that punctured the windows and thudded into the door frame.\" Within a few seconds, men came rushing into the saloon to escape the hail of lead shot from policemen's pistols. Parsons, who had been under fire on Civil War battlefields, remained calm, moving about the room telling the others not to be frightened.32 When someone shut the door and cut off the gaslights, many people rose from the floor and moved to the back room. There, Lizzie Holmes recalled, they all waited in an eerie quiet, \"shut up in total darkness, ignorant of what had happened or what our danger was.\"33\n\n_Map of the Haymarket Square area on May 4, 1886_\n\nTHE MANY ACCOUNTS OF what happened that night in Chicago are in rough agreement up until the moment that Captain Ward gave the order to disperse; then the testimonies offered by witnesses diverge wildly. Some patrolmen thought they heard Fielden say, \"We are peaceable,\" but others thought that he said, \"Here come the bloodhounds. You do your duty and I'll do mine,\" and that he then fired a gun at Captain Ward. Some policemen also told reporters that the bomb came from Crane's Alley or from behind the speakers' wagon, not from the east side of the street as Captain Ward had said. The direction of the bomb flight would later become important, because prosecution witnesses charged that Spies had given the bomb to a man who threw it from the alley.34\n\nMost of the officers testified that as soon as the blast erupted they took heavy pistol fire from the crowd along the sidewalks. Inspector Bonfield insisted that this proved the events that night were not a riot but a deliberate, rehearsed conspiracy, because, he argued, the anarchists had planned to open fire on the policemen as soon as the bomb exploded. Captain Ward said he heard gunshots immediately after the explosion, but could not be sure who fired first because the firing was indiscriminate. Otherwise, the officers' descriptions of the events that night were fairly consistent. 35 Their testimony would provide the main basis of press accounts of the bombing, the accounts that would shape public understanding of the tragedy.\n\nThe police version of the May 4 events would also serve as the foundation for the legal case state prosecutors would bring against the suspects accused of the bombing. Anarchists and supporters of the International, as well as other observers who were not connected with the unions or the radical movement, would, however, challenge this authoritative narrative of the Haymarket incident on nearly every crucial point. These witnesses did not hear Fielden say the bloodhounds were coming or see him fire a gun at the police. One of them, S. T. Ingram, a nineteen-year-old worker at the Crane Brothers' Foundry, read the Haymarket circular that day and returned to his workplace that evening to observe the meeting. Standing near the Crane building next to the wagon, he saw the police advance and Fielden jump from the wagon just before the blast echoed in the night air, but he saw no shots fired from the wagon. \"After the explosion of the bomb,\" he testified, \"I stepped back against the wall to keep from getting killed. There was a great deal of shooting going on then; most of it coming from the policemen, from the center of the street.\" He said his hearing and eyesight were very good, and he saw no citizen or person dressed in citizens' clothes use a revolver. \"It was a very peaceable meeting.\" 36\n\nTwo businessmen saw events in a similar way. None of them saw firing from the crowd. Barton Simonson, a salesman, was an especially trustworthy eyewitness because he knew Captain Ward and Inspector Bonfield and other officers as a result of his prominence in charitable efforts to support soup kitchens for the destitute on the West Side. \"The firing began from the police, right in the center of the street,\" Simonson testified. \"I did not see a single shot fired from the crowd on either side of the street.\" 37\n\nThere was no dispute about what happened after the police started shooting. One reporter described the scene as \"wild carnage,\" and the _Tribune_ 's observer went much further. \"Goaded by madness,\" he wrote, \"the police were in the condition of mind that permitted no resistance, and in a measure they were as dangerous as any mob of Communists, for they were blinded by passion and unable to distinguish between the peaceful citizen and Nihilist assassin.\"38 What remained unreported was the likelihood that, as an anonymous police official later indicated, a very large number of the police were wounded by their own revolvers. In the riotous seconds after the concussion, \"it was every man for himself\" as many patrolmen, trapped in tight formation, \"emptied their revolvers, mainly into each other.\"39\n\nWhen the firing ceased on Desplaines Street, the stunned group huddled at the back of Zepf's Hall waited quietly in the dark for several minutes before they risked venturing out into the night. Lizzie Holmes, Albert and Lucy Parsons and their children headed north over the Desplaines Street viaduct, where they met Thomas Brown of the American Group, who told Parsons that he was a marked man. Since everyone knew him and knew his influence, it would be better if Albert fled the city. An urgent discussion ensued on the viaduct. At first, Parsons refused to flee the scene and leave his family members and friends to face the consequences without him. No one recorded Lucy's words to her husband that night, but her close friend Lizzie said she was able to convince Albert to run for his life. He had no money to buy a train ticket, so Brown gave him $5. And then, there on the viaduct, they decided to separate. Brown would go one way, Lucy, Lizzie and the children another, while Albert headed for the Northwestern Railroad Depot and a train that would take him to Geneva, Illinois, where William Holmes would be waiting to receive him. Before he turned to leave, Parsons looked at his wife and said in a sad voice, \"Kiss me, Lucy. We do not know when we will meet again.\"40\n\nAt about the same time, Chicago Police Superintendent Frederick Ebersold was retiring for the night in his South Side home. He was terribly fatigued by his long hours at headquarters dispatching patrols throughout the strike-torn city and mobilizing divisions for the Haymarket protest. He had left his office at about 10 p.m. after hearing from Inspector Bonfield that no trouble had occurred at the Haymarket and that the policemen held in reserve at various stations could be dismissed. When the telephone rang at his home, Ebersold knew it meant serious trouble had occurred. He threw on his clothes and rushed his horse carriage uptown to the Desplaines Street Station. When he arrived, he told a reporter, \"the building was illuminated from top to bottom, officers were carrying wounded men on litters, surgeons and police were working or praying.\" Ebersold, a combat veteran of the Union army and a survivor of the ghastly slaughter at Shiloh, had seen the gory aftermath of several Civil War battles. The scene of scores of wounded officers stretched on the Desplaines Street Station floor vividly recalled those pictures of battlefield carnage.41\n\nPolice officers told the superintendent that an unknown number of anarchists had been shot and killed, but the next day only one civilian death was reported in the _Tribune._ Carl Kiester, a laborer who lived near Albert and Lucy Parsons on West Indiana Street, had died after being shot just below the heart. Kiester was later described by the coroner as a \"Bohemian Socialist.\" Nineteen other \"Citizens or Anarchists\" were listed as wounded, according to the paper. Six of them, reportedly in dangerous condition, gave names that suggested the national diversity of the Haymarket rally crowd: William Murphy, John Lepland, Joseph Koutchke, Robert Schultz, Peter Ley and Mathias Lewis, a shoemaker shot through the back. A few days later, police identified a comatose patient in Cook County Hospital as a man named Krueger, who lay with a bullet in his brain and with no hope whatever for a recovery. This was \"Big Krueger,\" a militant in the IWPA. At least thirty more people at the rally and in the neighborhood were wounded by police gunfire, including Henry Spies, who took a bullet for his brother, and Sam Fielden, who was shot in the leg as he ran up Randolph Street toward downtown.42\n\nIn the next days, the deaths of three civilians were recorded by the coroner, though more may have died in the hail of police gunfire without having their deaths and burials recorded by the city. In any case, these deaths seemed of no account to the press. What mattered to the public was that in the same span of time six more patrolmen followed Mathias Degan to the grave\u2014seven brave men in all, men who marched with their fellow officers into the Haymarket that night faithfully performing their duties with no inkling of the fate that awaited them.43\nChapter Twelve\n\n _The Strangest Frenzy_\n\nMAY 5, 1886\u2013MAY 27, 1886\n\nAFTER HE LEFT the back room of Zepf's Hall, August Spies hurried up Milwaukee Avenue to his home in Wicker Park. When he returned that evening, his mother and sister told him that his brother Henry was alive and had received treatment for his wound. Spies's relief could hardly have displaced the anxiety he must have felt; in the previous thirty-two hours he had witnessed the shootings at McCormick's, found himself blamed for the bloodshed the next morning and then, the next night, had survived a bomb explosion, an assassination attempt and a hail of police gunfire in the Haymarket.\n\nSpies left no account of how he slept that night or how he felt on the morning after the tragedy, but his actions were normal. He took the horsecar down Milwaukee Avenue and went to work at the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ as usual. There he joined Schwab in the urgent task of putting out the day's special edition on the sensational Haymarket events. Lizzie Holmes and Lucy Parsons also arrived at the newspaper building that morning after spending the night with Albert, Jr., and Lulu in a comrade's flat; they planned to compose a special edition of the _Alarm,_ to denounce the police who had broken up a peaceful meeting and gunned down innocent workers. None of them had yet read the morning dailies with their accounts of police casualties and the \"hellish deeds\" in the Haymarket.\n\nNOW IT IS BLOOD! proclaimed a typical headline. A BOMB THROWN INTO RANKS INAUGURATES THE WORK OF DEATH. Headlines screamed murder and zeroed in on the \"Bloody Monsters\" who committed it. City editors all adopted Inspector Bonfield's theory that the bombing was the work of an anarchist conspiracy rather than an act of an individual. Wilbur Storey's Democratic _Chicago Times_ cried out for an immediate and remorseless repression. \"Let us whip these slavic wolves back to the European dens from which they issue, or in some way exterminate them.\" 1\n\nThe owners of the Knights of Labor newspaper condemned the anarchists as harshly as the business press did. Like their leader, Terence Powderly, who immediately denounced the outrage on behalf of \"honest labor,\" these men lashed out at the \"band of cowardly murderers, cut-throats and robbers, known as anarchists, who sneak through the country like midnight assassins, stirring up the passions of ignorant foreigners, unfurling the red flag of anarchy and causing riot and bloodshed.\" Even though Albert Parsons was a founding member of the Knights, the two owners of the order's Chicago newspaper declared that he and his comrades \"should be summarily dealt with,\" because they were \"entitled to no more consideration than wild beasts.\"2\n\nOne report from the Board of Trade captured the mood of the city's businessmen: a broker said that if some in the financial quarter moved to hang the anarchists from lampposts, 500 men on the trading floor \"would lend willing hands in the work.\" Even a highly regarded Chicago attorney said he believed that the nature of the crime was itself \"a waiver of trial and a plea of guilty.\"3\n\nPublic antipathy toward the anarchists was naturally heightened by sympathy for the stricken police officers. When two more patrolmen, John Barrett and George Mueller, died on May 6, the _Tribune_ headline tolled like a bell: TWO MORE DEAD HEROES.4 Once despised by city elites and characterized as shakedown artists and bagmen, as the lackeys of saloonkeepers and \"bummer\" politicians from the Irish wards, the police were suddenly regarded as brave warriors who marched in \"gallant platoons\" to the Haymarket, never expecting resistance or the explosion of a bomb that devastated their ranks.5\n\nHowever, the dead policemen were not buried with military honors. In fact, Mathias Degan, a widower and the first to die, was given a modest funeral at his humble residence on South Canal Street and was buried with only a few friends and police department representatives in attendance. John Barrett, age twenty-five, who had learned the trade of an iron molder before joining the force, was also put to rest in a funeral service conducted in a small room of his third-floor flat. The only police officers who attended the service were six patrolmen from the Desplaines Street Station who would serve as Barrett's pallbearers. The third deceased patrolman, twenty-eight-year-old George Mueller, who came to Chicago to work as a teamster, was not buried in the city but in his hometown of Oswego, New York. Mueller, said the _Tribune,_ was one of the men \"most horribly torn by the destructive bomb\" thrown by the anarchists; he expired after suffering \"such torture from his injuries that death came as a release to him.\"6\n\n_Patrolman Mathias J. Degan_\n\nUnaware of the hurricane developing outside the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ office, the anarchists seemed unprepared for what happened next. As Spies and Schwab composed copy for their afternoon newspaper, a police detail arrived to arrest them. August Spies's youngest brother, Christian, a furniture worker who happened to be in the building, was also taken to jail. The police detective who led the raid later admitted that he searched the editors and their premises without a warrant.7\n\nWhen Spies and Schwab arrived at the Central Police Station, they were confronted by Police Superintendent Frederick Ebersold, who was at his wit's end. He had placed 350 men at McCormick's disposal to keep the peace on the Black Road, but the result was a riot that left civilians dead. He had commanded Bonfield to assemble a large squad at Desplaines Street to keep order there, and now three policemen were dead and others lay dying at Cook County Hospital. He leapt at Schwab and at Spies, who recalled the scene this way: \" 'You dirty Dutch sons of bitches, you dirty hounds, you rascals, we will choke you, we will kill you,' \" Ebersold screamed, \"forgetting in his rage that he was himself a German.\" Then the officers \"jumped upon us, tore us from one end to the other, went through our pockets,\" Spies wrote. They took his money and everything he had, but he remained silent, fearing far worse abuse.8\n\nAfter their German comrades were taken away from the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ office, Lucy Parsons and Lizzie Holmes nervously resumed work on the _Alarm._ In a short time, another detail of police burst up the stairs to their office and confronted the two women. When one of them grabbed Lizzie, she resisted. When Lucy protested, an officer pushed Lucy and called her \"a black bitch.\" The police then marched the two anarchist women to the city jail for questioning. After the interrogation the officers released Lucy, hoping they could follow her to Albert, now the target of an intense dragnet. When she did not lead them to her husband, she was arrested and questioned two more times. The second time she was apprehended, the police arrested her in front of her children, who were staying in a friend's flat near Grief's Hall. They ransacked the place while Lucy kept up a running stream of protest. It was the beginning of a forty-year ordeal of episodic jailings for Mrs. Albert Parsons, whose activities would become an obsession with the Chicago Police Department.9\n\nAs soon as Albert Parsons and William Holmes learned of these arrests, they knew the Holmes house in Geneva would soon be searched. So Parsons disguised himself by shaving off his long mustache and washing out the shoe black that he normally used to dye his gray hair. He took off the waistcoat, shirt collar and necktie he always wore and dressed like a tramping worker before leaving on foot for the little city of Elgin, where he would catch a train to Waukesha, Wisconsin, and there take refuge in the home of a socialist comrade. Parsons decided to travel unarmed, hoping to avoid a shoot-out if lawmen tracked him down.10\n\nWhen the police arrested Lucy and Lizzie, they also hauled off the entire staff of the _Arbeiter-Zeitung._ All twenty-two workers, including the compositor Adolph Fischer and several young printer's devils, were marched two by two to the police station past people on the streets who shouted angry words at them. Some cried out that the printers should be hanged immediately. The pressmen were charged with murder and held incommunicado for the night. Meanwhile, the police returned to systematically search the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ office, where they found 100 copies of the call for the Haymarket meeting, and in the room adjoining Spies's office they seized some material they believed was to be made into bombs.11\n\nOscar Neebe, assistant manager of the anarchist newspaper, went home that night distressed by the arrests that closed down the radical presses on a day when thousands of readers awaited news about the Haymarket affair. In the morning he was confronted by Captain Michael Schaack, who arrived at his house with a police detail. The officers found one Springfield rifle, one Colt .38-caliber pistol with five chambers fired out, one sword, a belt with a Lehr und Wehr Verein buckle and leaflets announcing the protest meeting at the Haymarket. On this basis, Schaack would go before a grand jury to ask that Neebe be indicted for conspiracy to commit murder. 12\n\nCaptain Schaack, a close ally of Inspector Bonfield, knew the anarchists well. He commanded a police station on Chicago Avenue, where he kept up a steady surveillance on the radicals who lived and congregated in his district; he had promised to keep the Gold Coast a \"safe haven\" for the rich families who lived uncomfortably close to the immigrant masses down below Division Street. Described as \"posturing, defiant, self-assured,\" a man full of \"bluster and bravado,\" Schaack eagerly organized an anarchist-roundup that would soon make him the best-known police detective in America.13\n\nThe next day, May 6, Samuel Fielden awoke and found his leg wound superficial. His wife put a new bandage on it, and he felt strong enough to walk around the block. After doing this he came home and waited for the police. When they arrived, the officers ransacked Fielden's house without presenting a search warrant, but they discovered nothing incriminating. At the station, Fielden recalled, he was confronted by Superintendent Ebersold, who demanded to see his wound. When the prisoner pulled up his pants leg and Ebersold saw the wound from the bullet, he said, \"Damn your soul, it ought to have gone here,\" as he pointed his finger at Fielden's forehead. 14\n\nFielden was arraigned with Spies and Schwab, and then all three prisoners gave interviews to the press in which they explained their actions at the square the night before. The men \"cast furtive glances downward,\" according to one reporter, because they \"had undoubtedly heard the threats of lynching.\" Schwab, who was described as looking fifty years old and \"thin almost to the point of emaciation,\" said he left the Haymarket before the rally and knew nothing of the bombing. \"His eyes were covered with heavy, puffy lids,\" and he shielded them behind a pair of steel-framed spectacles. \"His hair is black and tumbled, and his weedy, black beard falls down upon his breast and covers his upper lip. His hands are big and bony, and his thin body and legs are lost in his clothes.\n\n_Newspaper artists' drawings of Samuel Fielden (left)_ _and Michael Schwab from police photos_\n\nHis hands and legs writhe and intertwine, and his general appearance is that of a fanatic, half-insane.\"15\n\nFielden, who also protested his innocence, was depicted as being dressed in well-worn clothing of the poorest quality, wearing a \"blue hickory shirt that gave him the appearance of a country man.\" He was heavyset and muscular, with swarthy features well covered with a thick growth of black hair and a beard. All these features seemed \"repulsive\" to one reporter, and Fielden's \"low brow and catlike eyes\" did not improve his appearance. When eight-hour leader George Schilling spoke up for Fielden, calling him \"an old pupil\" who had now gotten himself into very \"deep water,\" the _Tribune_ took this to mean that Schilling, \"heretofore looked upon as a labor reformer acting for the benefit of working men,\" had actually been \"a teacher in the school of anarchy.\" The conclusion was a harsh one: \"The time has come . . . not only for suppressing the Spieses, Parsonses, and the Fieldens, but the Schillings also.\"16\n\nIn his interview August Spies called the bombing an impulsive and outrageous act, not a prearranged one. He said he knew nothing of the explosives the police said they took from his office; he thought they had been \"placed there by the police in order to make a case\" against him. He admitted that he kept two metal casings in his desk to show reporters but said they were \"perfectly harmless.\"17\n\nThese expressions of innocence meant nothing to the coroner's jury when it convened that day. The inquest into Officer Degan's demise concluded not only that his death had been \"caused by a piece of bomb, thrown by an unknown person,\" but that the perpetrator was \"aided, abetted, and encouraged\" by Spies, Schwab, Parsons and Fielden. An editorial in the _Tribune_ that same day set the terms of prosecution in even more ominous specificity. It retold the story of Tuesday night's violence as a \"murderous Communist conspiracy\" and then explained that Illinois' criminal code regarding accessories to murder was broad enough to allow indictments against any offenders whose \"seditious utterances\" were followed by the commission of a crime. If it could be shown that anarchist leaders \"advised and encouraged\" the crime perpetrated on Desplaines Street, then, under state law, they would be subject to death on the gallows. 18\n\nWhile the searches, arrests and interrogations continued, the police kept busy raiding other places where militant workers and anarchists congregated. They closed Grief's and Zepf's halls on Lake Street because they were \"headquarters of the foreign-speaking population which flaunts and marches under the red flag.\" The streets in the Haymarket district were usually crammed with farmers, workers and shoppers, but on May 6 all were deserted. The red flags that had flown from hundreds of buildings on the West Side during the previous week of tumult had all but disappeared.\n\nYet one spot in the district was filled with people that morning. Crowds of men and women were attracted to the scene of the tragedy. They stood in front of Crane's Alley talking in little groups and pointing at the houses and buildings in the area damaged by the shooting. On Desplaines Street as far north as Zepf's Hall, they could see shattered windows and doors pockmarked with bullets. Dr. James Taylor, a member of the International who had attended the rally, joined the curious bands of citizens on the street. He returned to look at a tall telegraph pole he had seen riddled by police bullets the night of the riot. Now he was surprised to see that the pole had been removed by someone who left telegraph wires strung along the street. 19\n\nMeanwhile, in Chicago's working-class neighborhoods, rumors flew as bloodied rallygoers returned home and sought treatment from local druggists and doctors. These witnesses carried with them lurid accounts of events in the Haymarket the night before, tales that caused excitement all over Pilsen. The next morning a crowd threw stones through the windows of a store owned by a man who had allowed police to use his telephone to report disturbances. When 500 strikers from the lumberyards gathered in another spot, three patrol wagons with 50 officers hurried to the area and found the street clogged with people. Brandishing their revolvers, the patrolmen forced the sullen crowd to disperse and then walked resolutely up the board sidewalks of Halsted Street, breaking up any and all gatherings. Bohemian women \"acted like tigresses,\" and the police were \"compelled at times to forget the sex of their assailants.\" The next day it was reported that the \"backbone of Socialism\" in the Bohemian district had been broken by the \"bold front presented by the policemen and the readiness they showed in the use of revolvers.\"20\n\nOn May 7, the _Tribune_ reassured readers that the socialists had been cowed by the aggressive measures of the authorities. No demonstrations of any note took place anywhere in the city. The area around the Haymarket was quiet, and so was the district along the Black Road that bordered the Bohemian district. Two days later the war was over in Chicago, according to the _New York Times._ \"There is hardly an Anarchist in the city who does not tremble for fear of a domiciliary visit from the police. Search warrants are no longer necessary, and suspicious houses are being ransacked at all hours of the day and night.\" For nearly two more months Chicagoans would experience what a visiting economist, Richard Ely, called a \"period of police terrorism\"\u2014a time when all civil liberties were suppressed in the name of public safety.21\n\nHowever, reports of police action from the war zone did little to calm excited residents. People in suburban towns, unprotected by large armed police forces, feared acts of violence committed by marauding gangs from Chicago. In the city itself, where the police controlled the streets, middle-class residents were also petrified. Gun sales soared. High anxiety prevailed day after day throughout the month.22\n\nJust when the last anarchist seemed to have been arrested, more were flushed out of their dens by detectives under the energetic direction of Captain Schaack. Almost every day detectives uncovered some dynamite plot or cache of weapons that they said indicated a dangerous anarchist conspiracy was still afoot. It was easy to persuade the terror-stricken population of the existence of a gigantic revolutionary conspiracy, recalled Chicago journalist Brand Whitlock. No rumor of a deadly plot seemed too fantastic to be believed by a hysterical public. It all produced, said Whitlock, \"one of the strangest frenzies of fear that ever distracted a whole community.\" 23\n\n_Drawings from police photos of Bohemian workers arrested_ _after disturbances in Pilsen, May 5, 1886_\n\nTHE FEAR THAT GRIPPED Chicago that May did not arise simply from sensational police activities and newspaper stories. It fed on a fever of worry that had plagued the city ever since the Great Fire of 1871. The bomb, or something like it, had been forecast for years, but when it actually exploded, the fears it ignited were far worse than those produced by the holocaust fifteen years before. People's imaginations ran wild. Chicago was a city where citizens had been more fearful of the \"dangerous classes\" than in any other place; to them, the police, for all their corrupt qualities, represented the only means of preventing another inferno from which there would be no recovery.24 If these trained law officers could be struck down by the black hand of anarchy, how could anyone be safe? There was simply no telling how many other bomb throwers had hidden themselves away in Chicago's \"terror district.\"\n\nOn the Sunday after the explosion, an influential Protestant preacher, Professor David Swing, asked his huge congregation: \"If men can pass their lives among us . . . and never be touched by one ray of religious, social or political truth, what can we say of America and what of Chicago?\" Was their pride in the great Republic justified? \"We need a careful definition of what freedom is,\" Swing continued. \"If it means the license to proclaim the gospel of disorder, to preach destruction, and scatter the seeds of anarchy . . . the sooner we exchange the Republic for an iron-handed monarchy the better it will be for all of us.\" 25\n\nIf Christian Chicagoans believed social order to be ordained by God, then disorder had to be the work of the devil and his agents, who lived on the dark side of life in this city of smoke. After all, there was no darker city in America than Chicago, even in the daytime. The anarchists often met at night, plotting conspiracies in saloon cellars and drilling their militia in basement rooms. The protest rally at the Haymarket took place at night. The bomb was thrown from an alley as dark clouds rolled in from the lake, and its explosion snuffed out the one gas lamp on the street so that the bomber, a creature of the night, could slip away unseen.26\n\nThe night of terror in the Haymarket challenged commentators to find words that could capture the horror of the event and the evil of the men who caused it. The urge to describe, label and signify went far beyond the white-hot editorials in Chicago papers. Every editor in the country had his say. Western newspapermen said frontier justice should be applied to the lawless city and the anarchists should be treated like horse thieves. Indeed, the citizens of Chicago, declared a Denver editor, could be excused if they formed vigilante committees and hanged \"every man who was known to have advocated the throwing of dynamite bombs and the overturning of the law.\"27\n\nMany editorialists relied on animal metaphors to describe the anarchists, whom they branded \"ungrateful hyenas,\" \"incendiary vermin\" and \"slavic wolves.\"28 Some commentators conceded that the anarchists were human but were from the \"lowest stratum,\" as the _Washington Post_ put it. Following this kind of reasoning, the alien incendiaries were often compared to other hated groups like the menacing Apache Indians. The _St. Louis Globe-Democrat_ applied an old frontier adage about \"savage\" tribes to the new menace. \"There are no good anarchists except dead anarchists,\" it proclaimed.29\n\nOther editorialists examined the particular European origins of the bomb throwers, and explained that the anarchists came from what the _Tribune_ called \"the worst elements of the Socialistic, atheistic, alcoholic European classes.\" The \"enemy forces\" that had invaded the city were the \"scum and offal\" of Europe, its \"human and inhuman rubbish.\" \"These aliens, driven out of Germany and Bohemia for treasonable teachings by Bismarck and the Emperor of Austria, have swarmed over into this country of extreme toleration and have flagrantly abused its hospitality,\" the paper declared. \"After warming these frozen vipers on its breast and permitting them to become citizens,\" America had been bitten by these \"serpents\" who had been \"warmed in the sunshine of toleration.\" Thus, the _Tribune_ concluded, all the death in the Haymarket resulted from the city's ill-conceived toleration of the anarchists.30\n\nStanding up in the middle of this reactionary storm was Mayor Carter Harrison, whom the press and the business community held partially responsible for the attack on the police because he allowed the anarchists to speak and assemble freely. The mayor temporarily banned all assemblies that might be dangerous and ordered the closing of the _Arbeiter-Zeitung,_ but he also told reporters it was wrong for the newspapers to criticize elected officials while the city remained in a crisis caused by the eight-hour strikes. He also rejected the assumption that excessive free speech caused the tragedy. \"If we had stopped them from speaking,\" he explained, \"the same thing would have happened.\" Spies, Parsons and Fielden had aroused the anxiety of the crowd by warning of the array of policemen and soldiers surrounding them with loaded guns, but they had said nothing inflammatory, nothing to incite violence. Harrison chose not to make the anarchists into martyrs by suppressing them and violating cherished principles. \"Free speech is a jewel and the American people know it,\" he said.31\n\nAs he watched the nation's first red scare grip his city in the following days, the mayor told a neighbor what he did that Tuesday night on Desplaines Street, how he had listened to the speeches and heard nothing provocative and how he told Bonfield that the meeting was peaceful and that the crowd was dispersing. Harrison thought the bomb thrower was probably a lone lunatic and that the bombing was not a prelude to an insurrection or the result of an anarchist plot. He knew the anarchists were men who liked to hear themselves talk and who often talked like \"damn fools,\" but, the mayor told his friend, they were not dynamite plotters.32\n\nNow in his fourth term, Carter Harrison had been a brilliantly effective mayor. He had won the affection of Chicago's many ethnic tribes by proclaiming fictive kinship with their elders, marching in their parades, honoring their traditions and rewarding immigrant supporters with jobs and favors. After he was first elected in 1879, Harrison brought Chicagoans together in the aftermath of the hard and bitter years when the fear of unemployment, strikes, lockouts and bloody riots pushed citizens into deep trenches full of animosity. Moreover, the mayor held the city together during the mid-1880s, when tensions between workers and bosses reached a breaking point\u2014a time when his popularity was so wide it extended to all classes, races and nationalities.33 But now, on May 5, 1886, he saw his beloved city breaking apart again.\n\nNo one uttered in public the views Mayor Harrison shared with his neighbor in private because no one expressed any doubt that an anarchist conspiracy had caused the deaths in the Haymarket. At first, the only editorial voice suggesting that the police were in some way responsible for the tragedy came from far away in New York City. There, the editor of a small but influential labor publication, _John Swinton's Paper,_ pointed out that \"[i]f the armed squad of policemen had not marched menacingly on the assemblage, if they had refrained from any attempt to break up the meeting as long as it was free from tumult, there is no reason to doubt that the diatribes of the speakers would have ended in silence and peace about the usual hour of ten o'clock.\"34\n\nIn John Swinton's view, the Chicago police had provoked the violence as a way of stopping the drive for an eight-hour day and the powerful strike movement that propelled it. The bomb, he wrote, was a \"god send to the enemies of the labor movement,\" who would use it, he added provocatively, \"as an explosive against all the objects working people are bent on accomplishing.\" 35\n\nAs Swinton feared, during the next days responsibility for the crime of May 4 was extended beyond the \"dynamite orators\" to include thousands of eight-hour men who remained on strike. Some commentators blamed the whole movement for the bloodshed. Every drop, one editorial charged, could be \"attributed to the malign influences, teachings, resolutions . . . of the Knights of Labor.\" The _Tribune_ asked: \"Why should the dynamite knights be allowed to exercise the rights of free citizens?\" And then it warned that the strikers were deliberately injuring themselves and their employers by their \"injudicious attempt to make Chicago an exception to the laws of political economy in a mistaken effort to improve their own condition.\" Protesters should return to work and reject the advice of miscreants who would lead them to common ruin.36\n\nINSTEAD OF FOLLOWING the _Tribune_ 's directions, thousands of workers stayed on strike on May 5; and the next day others joined them. By then, however, employers had been thoroughly mobilized, the police had been deployed all over the city and change was in the air as the eight-hour strike movement became a struggle mainly of skilled craft workers.37\n\nThe unskilled strikers were the workers most intimidated by the effects of Haymarket. For instance, the freight handlers, their backs to the wall, vowed to disown the socialists and keep the peace after being warned by Bonfield himself \"to stay off the streets and to avoid every appearance of evil.\" Meanwhile, they were losing ground, as more and more business was being done at freight houses by strikebreakers without serious opposition from the union men.38\n\nThe Jewish tailors, latecomers to the labor movement, were utterly unprepared for the reaction that hit them on May 5. A small group of Yiddish-speaking workers, oblivious to the events that took place in the Haymarket the night before, marched from the West Side to downtown factories where manufacturers had hired nonunion laborers to perform their work. The strikers hoped, against great odds, to invade the open shops and pull out the workers inside, but when 600 of them crossed the Van Buren Street Bridge, they were surrounded by scores of policemen with billy clubs, who chased them back over the river and beat them as they ran for their lives. Limping back to their hall on DeKoven Street and nursing their wounds, the tailors conversed intensely in Yiddish, trying to find an explanation for what had happened. It was only then that one of the men who could read German told them what he had learned from a newspaper about Tuesday's Haymarket bombing: that the police were hunting the men who threw the bomb; and that one of them was the same August Spies who had lectured to them about the eight-hour strike. \"After May 5th picketing became absolutely impossible,\" wrote Abraham Bisno, one of the Russian tailors the police beat on Van Buren Street. It was as though the city were under martial law.39\n\nA prominent socialist summarized the situation for the _Tribune_ on May 5. \"A large number of trades that have compact organizations\u2014the aristocracy of labor\u2014will get ten hours' pay for eight hours' work,\" but, he added, an army of 50,000 male and female wage workers were in danger of losing out, and being left with ten and twelve hours for a day's work and wages of 50 cents to $1.50 a day. The anarchists were organizing with these people, he explained, encouraging them to make a stand. But now with the International's leadership behind bars, with Albert Parsons in hiding and with Lucy Parsons in and out of jail, they had no one to give them heart. 40\n\nBy May 15 the eight-hour strikes had waned, and workers were returning to their jobs in Chicago and at Pullman town. The freight handlers and iron molders, whose strikes were most menacing, had been defeated. Employers in the planing mills, who had conceded eight hours to their workers before May 2, now reneged on their agreement and returned to the ten-hour day. Master carpenters, plumbers, steamfitters and foundry workers all returned as ten-hour men, though some found that they had been replaced by nonunion hands. By May 18, the most tenacious group of strikers in the city, the lumber shovers, was all but defeated. When they too returned to work a few days later, the _Tribune_ declared the eight-hour movement practically dead.41\n\n_Lucy Parsons in a drawing from a police photo_ _after one of her arrests in May 1886_\n\nYet, even as the Great Upheaval subsided, the red scare gathered force. Every day the newspapers carried some sensational news. A bomb factory had been found at a house on Sedgwick Street, and the owner, William Seliger, had confessed to making explosive devices there with Louis Lingg. But Lingg, who was alleged to be the bomb thrower, was in hiding. Then, on May 14, came the thrilling news that Lingg had been captured after a furious fight with two policemen. After being subdued and disarmed (he had a knife strapped to his wrist), Lingg was hustled to the Chicago Avenue Station to be interrogated by Captain Schaack.42\n\nWhile newspaper readers waited to learn more about Louis Lingg's interrogation, they were jolted by another report: an anarchist named Rudolph Schnaubelt was now being sought as the perpetrator after the police had mistakenly released him following his arrest on May 7. The suspect was identified as a large man, a machinist by trade, who was known to be an anarchist militant and who was seen standing near the speakers' wagon on the night of May 4. After he was arrested, Schnaubelt told detectives he had left the scene before the bomb exploded; when several witnesses corroborated his story, the suspect was released and promptly fled the city. The police and the press now agreed that Schnaubelt's flight made him the obvious suspect in the bombing.43\n\nOn May 18, Schaack's detectives entered George Engel's toy store on Milwaukee Avenue and took the shopkeeper in for questioning. Engel had been interrogated on May 6 but released as a result of an intervention by the coroner, a fellow German, who said he knew the shopkeeper well and that he was a \"quiet and well behaved citizen.\" But twelve days later Engel was spirited away by the police, leaving his wife and daughter to believe that he had simply disappeared. In fact, Schaack was holding him incommunicado while his men gave Engel the third degree, hoping he would implicate his comrades in the bombing. Even though he was put in the sweatbox (a small, pitch-dark wooden container) for hours, the prisoner refused to tell the police what they wanted to hear. On the eighth day of his confinement, Engel's daughter finally managed to find her father and to persuade his jailers to allow him to see visitors.44\n\nEven though most of the police work had concluded for the grand jury hearings, Schaack kept the pot boiling. He also told the jury that he had unearthed a gigantic plot to burn and sack a certain portion of the city and had the evidence to prove it. He needed only a few more days to complete the chain of evidence.45\n\nMeanwhile, many rumors as to the whereabouts of Albert Parsons appeared in the dailies. The most-wanted fugitive was sighted in St. Louis, in Pittsburgh, in San Francisco and in Dallas, where he was reportedly recognized by people who knew him when he was a newspaperman. It was also rumored that he had either started out for Mexico on the Texas & Pacific Railway or was \"hiding out among the negroes.\"46\n\nCartoons and drawings of the Haymarket events and the wicked-looking anarchists proliferated in the press that May. The most influential image appeared in _Harper's Weekly_ on May 15 in an enormous two-page drawing of the bombing scene that would become, and remain until this day, the single most important visual representation of the incident. The artist's view is from street level just north of the speakers' wagon, where a white-haired figure, presumably Fielden, is gesturing at the police with one hand raised in the air. To the right in the rear, the flash of an exploding bomb illuminates policemen falling and writhing in agony. Nearby two policemen fire their pistols at the crowd, while in the foreground, a man in a bowler hat shoots at the officers as his comrades flee for their lives. Thure de Thulstrup's famous drawing elided a series of events that occurred over a few minutes' time into one dramatic moment of simultaneous action in which the violence seems clearly to have resulted from the speaker's effort to incite the crowd. This indelible image reflected and magnified a popular perception that the city streets had finally become domestic battlefields in a growing class war.47\n\nDuring these wild days a grand jury listened as witnesses were called to testify that an anarchist plot had existed to annihilate the police at the Haymarket. On May 27 the jury returned murder indictments against ten anarchists, despite the objections of one troublemaker among them who argued that, before they indicted the men for conspiring to commit murder, they ought to know who threw the bomb.48\n\nBy this time, ten labor meeting halls, seventeen saloons and several newspaper offices had been raided; numerous houses had been searched, often without warrants; and 200 arrests had been made. Some prisoners were held without benefit of counsel, and some were pressured for hours in Schaack's sweatbox. Scores of witnesses were questioned, including forty-five people who were promised financial support in return for their testimonies. The state's attorney, Julius Sprague Grinnell, had gathered a mountain of evidence against the eight defendants who would finally stand trial for what was generally regarded as the worst crime committed in the United States since the assassination of Lincoln.49 Grinnell wanted the trial to begin immediately, but the defense lawyers objected given the enormity of the task before them\u2014one that seemed almost hopeless at this point, when many newspaper editors and city leaders demanded the speedy trial and execution of the men they held responsible for the shocking deaths of six policemen.50\n\n_Thure de Thulstrup's imaginative depiction of events at the Haymarket,_ _covering two pages of_ Harper's Weekly, _May 15, 1886_\n\nWilbur Storey's _Chicago Times_ insisted that all the indicted anarchists in custody should be tried and hanged for murder, along with every leader of the Central Labor Union. Furthermore, justice also demanded the arrest, trial and execution of Albert Parsons and \"the negro woman who passes as the wife of the assassin Parsons.\" Finally, the paper insisted that every organization, society or combination calling itself socialist or anarchist should be \"absolutely and permanently suppressed.\" 51 Even a respected law journal expressed the opinion that \"the long-haired, wild-eyed, bad smelling, atheistic reckless foreign wretches\" who thought they could \"level society and its distinctions with a few bombs\" ought to be crushed like snakes. According to the _Albany Law Journal,_ the anarchists' evil deeds almost justified resorting to \"the vigilance committee and lynch law.\" At the least, Illinois courts should treat all these godless fiends as murderers and extirpate them from the face of the earth.52 It was in this climate that the trial of the Chicago anarchists opened in the Cook County Courthouse on June 21, 1886.\nChapter Thirteen\n\n _Every Man on the Jury_ _Was an American_\n\nMAY 28, 1886\u2013AUGUST 21, 1886\n\nWHEN TWO WELL-KNOWN Chicago socialists formed a defense committee for the eight accused anarchists during the heat of the red scare, they seemed to be embarking on a perilous journey. Yet Dr. Ernest Schmidt, the respected physician who ran as a socialist candidate for mayor in 1879, and George Schilling, the influential labor leader and eight-hour advocate, decided to swim against the roaring stream of public condemnation. Both men had vociferously criticized the anarchists for their violent words and ultramilitant demands, but they knew some of the accused men well enough to believe in their innocence. Schilling and Schmidt began quietly by raising funds in the immigrant union halls to pay for the legal services of two young lawyers from the Jewish community who had represented the Central Labor Union and many of its members after they were arrested in the police roundup that began on the day after the bombing.1\n\nMoses Salomon, a twenty-eight-year-old bachelor, lived with his parents on the West Side. Raised in Peoria, Illinois, he attended public schools there and then went to Chicago to work in his father's grocery business. He clerked in a law office, and entered the city's Union Law School, where he prepared to pass the bar. Sigmund Zeisler, a year younger than Salomon, was born in Austria of German parents and resided on the North Side with his wife, a pianist. He had lived in the United States for just four years but had learned English quickly while in law school, where he won a prize for the best thesis. Salomon and Zeisler, who formed a partnership in 1885, were considered excellent \"book lawyers\" but novice defense attorneys. Leaders of the city's German-Jewish community had kept a distance from the labor wars that afflicted the city during the previous decade, but with Salomon and Zeisler on the anarchist case, the city's Jews may have felt themselves being pulled much closer to the fray.2\n\nBecause the two young lawyers were so inexperienced, Schmidt tried to persuade a pair of leading criminal lawyers to take the case; they refused, fearing the consequences for their practices. Eventually, the doctor found a way to convince a corporate lawyer named William Perkins Black to lead the team. A native of Kentucky and a descendant of Scotch-Irish from Ulster, Black had studied in Indiana, where he lived at the outbreak of the Civil War. He volunteered for the army and served under Union general Lew Wallace, then moved to Illinois, where he helped recruit an infantry company with which he saw combat as a captain. Black's battlefield heroics earned him the Congressional Medal of Honor before he turned twenty. After the war, the captain entered a profitable law practice in Chicago. Like his friend Carter Harrison, the lawyer engaged in Democratic Party politics and, with his wife, Hortensia, enjoyed the social life that flourished in the city's West Side Kentucky colony. An open-minded man, Black had once expressed sympathy for the Russian populists on trial for killing the czar, and had shown an interest in socialism, which he called the \"cry of the people.\" He had heard Schilling speak on the subject, and he had been introduced to Spies and Parsons, though he had not studied their ideas.3\n\nThe captain's surprising decision to lead the defense team meant that the Blacks would be ostracized, excluded from polite society. Black also knew that his action would entail \"an almost total sacrifice of business.\" But he made his decision and stuck to it, and Hortensia backed him up. Black's \"act of heroism\"\u2014Attorney Zeisler's words\u2014gave the defense a brilliant and respected lead counsel.\n\nWilliam Black was not a criminal defense attorney, however, so he set out to find a partner who could play that role. It took him three days to locate a trial lawyer who would join him\u2014a criminal defense attorney named William A. Foster, who had arrived in the city from Iowa a few months before.4\n\nOn June 5, 1886, the grand jury presented its report to the court. It read: \"We find that the attack on the police of May 4 was the result of a deliberate conspiracy, the full details of which are now in the possession of the officers of the law.\"5 Five days later Captain Black asked the sitting judge to recuse himself because of prejudicial statements he had made. The new judge, Joseph Eaton Gary, was a sixty-five-year-old native New Yorker, first elected to the Cook County Superior Court in 1863. Highly regarded as a lawyer and an impartial judge, he seemed to Black as good a choice as any, at least until Gary rebuffed Black's request for a delay in the trial. The proceedings would begin, as planned, on June 21.6\n\nIn the meantime, Black had entered into secret discussions with Lucy Parsons concerning the whereabouts of her husband. \"Never had a fugitive from justice been more systematically hunted,\" wrote one chronicler of the trial, but, though police forces far and wide had been on Parsons's trail, they had not run him down.7 Black argued that, rather than maintaining the appearance of guilt by hiding, Parsons ought to turn himself in and stand trial. After all, there was no evidence to link him to the bombing. It took some time for the captain to persuade Lucy on this point, but she finally agreed and sent out word to Albert that there were good reasons for him to return to Chicago.\n\nFor the previous six weeks Parsons had lived in secrecy and safety in Wisconsin, but all the while he endured the agony of being separated from his family and comrades, escaping the wrath they all endured in the city. He believed, as he later told a friend, that if he surrendered he \"could never expect to be a free man again.\" Nonetheless, he left Waukesha on June 20 to meet his fate in Chicago. Still disguised, he jumped off the train on the North Side and made his way to a friend's house, where he met Lucy and the children for a joyful, tearful reunion.\n\nOn June 21, just six weeks after the bombing, the trial began, with scores of reporters in attendance. After the courtroom filled, the prisoners took their seats near the defense team. Black moved to quash the indictments and to hold separate trials for each defendant, but both motions were denied. Then, after the lunch recess, the proceedings resumed, and at about half past two that afternoon Albert Parsons calmly walked into the courtroom. Well dressed, his face tanned, his hair once again jet black, he made a dramatic entrance prepared to give a speech to the judge proclaiming his innocence and his willingness to face trial. One of the prosecutors immediately recognized him, however, and the state's lead attorney, Julius Grinnell, rose and said: \"Your honor, I see Albert R. Parsons in the courtroom. I move that he be placed in the custody of the sheriff.\" Black strenuously objected that Parsons was there to surrender himself and that Grinnell's action was \"gratuitous and cruel.\"8 Judge Gary would not allow Parsons to address the court, however, and so, as the buzz of excitement wound down, the prisoner silently took a seat with the other defendants, who were surprised and excited by the appearance of their leader. These unexpected developments sent reporters rushing for the door to telegraph the story of the infamous fugitive's return. The stage was now set. The characters had taken their places, and the courtroom throbbed with excitement as the highly anticipated proceedings got under way.9\n\nAfter Parsons's stage entrance, the courtroom calmed down and jury selection began. Because the normal, random process of selecting jurors had broken down, a special bailiff was charged to find jurors. The process went on for three weeks, and it went badly for the defendants, because the jurors who were seated seemed utterly biased against them.10 Black objected over and over to jurors who seemed clearly prejudiced against his clients, but, again and again Judge Gary refused to accept Black's challenges for cause, even in the case of a juror who admitted kinship with one of the slain policemen. Nearly every juror called by the special bailiff stated that he had read and talked about the case and believed what he had heard or read about the defendants. Some even stated frankly that they thought the defendants were guilty. When these men admitted as much during the jury selection process, the defense attorneys rejected them one after another until they had exhausted their quota of challenges for cause.\n\nIn some cases, Judge Gary worked hard to convince jurors who admitted to bias against the anarchists that they could, nonetheless, be fair. In one instance Gary nearly browbeat a potential juror into saying he believed he could render a fair judgment in the case, even after the man insisted he felt handicapped. Several of the twelve jurors finally selected were men who had candidly admitted they were prejudiced, but each, when examined by Judge Gary, was persuaded to say that he believed he could hear the case fairly nonetheless.11 To Black and the defense team, Gary's procedure in the lengthy jury selection process seemed blatantly unfair, but the press praised all of the judge's rulings and blamed the defense for needlessly delaying the start of the trial. When the twelfth juror was finally chosen, the newspapers cheered.12\n\nThe dozen men seated in the jury box came from similar walks of life and held similar views of the anarchists. H. T. Sandford, who lived in the town of Oak Park and worked for the Chicago & Northwestern Railroad, admitted to having an opinion as to the throwing of the bomb and the necessity of convicting the defendants and was in that sense prejudiced, but he still thought he could hear the case fairly. Sandford was one of five clerks seated in the jury box along with five salesmen, including the foreman, an employee of Marshall Field. One juryman was a hardware dealer and another was a school principal.13\n\nThese dozen men did not constitute a group of the defendants' peers. Not one of them was an immigrant, a manual laborer or a trade union member, and, of course, none was a radical. Indeed, very few workers even appeared in the jury pool created by the bailiff, who had hand-picked many men in a stunning departure from the normal, random selection process.14 Approximately 980 jurymen were placed in the pool and examined; most of them listed their occupations as traders, buyers, shopkeepers, cashiers, real estate agents, foremen or salesclerks, including many who said they had been identified by their employers as good candidates. Only 14 potential jurors identified themselves as wage earners doing hand labor in the city's factories and yards or on its docks and construction sites.15\n\nDURING THE TEDIOUS WEEKS of jury selection, everything seemed to work against the defense. The only encouraging sign was an item in the _Tribune_ that hinted at weaknesses in the prosecution's case. On June 27 an anonymous police official criticized Inspector Bonfield's leadership, saying that no one on the force but Bonfield had wanted to disrupt the Haymarket meeting, that it should not have been disrupted and that, as a result, the chief inspector was responsible for the injuries and deaths. The unidentified police official also indicated that many of the wounds the police sustained came from bullets fired by other policemen.16\n\nThe unidentified source may have been Superintendent Frederick Ebersold, who resented Bonfield and Schaack for basking in the sunshine of public acclaim. The Bavarian-born superintendent had been at odds with the two captains ever since Mayor Harrison appointed him, passing over Bonfield, a favorite of the Irish officer corps. Ebersold, who harbored self-doubts about his own conduct during the Haymarket affair, had reason to fear that Bonfield and Schaack would continue to undermine his authority by questioning his competence and blaming him for mistakes made in the investigation, such as ordering the release of Schnaubelt, the suspected bomb hurler.17\n\nOn July 15, State's Attorney Julius Grinnell opened the prosecution case by indicating that this would be no ordinary murder trial. \"Gentlemen, \" he began, \"for the first time in the history of our country people are on trial for endeavoring to make Anarchy the rule,\" and \"to ruthlessly and awfully destroy human life\" to achieve that end. \"I hope that while the youngest of us lives, this will be the last time in our country when such a trial shall take place,\" he declared. Grinnell then outlined the case in brief. He charged that Spies was the ringleader of a dynamite plot\u2014a man who had frequently declared that only force could be used to achieve justice for workers, a provocateur who believed that the eight-hour movement could be used to further anarchy. The prosecutor declared that Spies had conspired with others for several months to start an uprising during the May strikes at a gathering like the one at the Haymarket and that he told this to a newspaper reporter and even showed him a bomb made of dynamite.18\n\nFurthermore, Grinnell argued, the riot at McCormick's was deliberately provoked by Spies, who issued the \"Revenge\" circular in order to trigger the beginning of a large revolt when bombs were to be thrown in all parts of the city.19 The conspiracy to destroy Chicago, he explained, had been hatched on Monday, May 3, when George Engel and the other plotters met in Grief's Hall. Engel was in contact with Lingg, who was making the bombs, including the one used on May 4. The bombs were supposed to be left in Neff's Hall, where the anarchists would take them to various targets. Finally, Grinnell claimed that the Haymarket meeting was to be the starting event in the uprising and that only the timely intervention ordered by Bonfield prevented a revolutionary plot from being carried out.\n\nAfter this litany, the state's attorney remarked: \"It is not necessary for me to go into any more details of that conspiracy. It was carried out to the letter.\" The indictment in this case was for murder, he concluded, adding that \"it is not necessary in this kind of case . . . that the individual who commits the particular offense\u2014for instance, the man who threw the bomb\u2014to be in court at all. He need not even be indicted. The question for you to determine is, having ascertained that a murder was committed, not only who did it, but who is responsible for it, who abetted it, assisted it, or encouraged it?\"20\n\nGrinnell's remarks deeply troubled the defense team. The prosecutor had asked the jury to determine who murdered Officer Degan, yet the state had not charged any one of the defendants with actually throwing the bomb that killed the patrolman. It was later revealed that Grinnell had been reluctant to try the defendants for homicide without charging someone with actually committing the murder. However, the newspaper publisher Melville E. Stone met privately with the state's attorney and convinced him to take the case to trial anyway, because the anarchists \"had advocated over and over again the use of violence against the police and had urged the manufacture and throwing of bombs,\" and therefore, Stone thought, \"their culpability was clear.\"21\n\n_Julius S. Grinnell_\n\nHere was an extraordinary turn of events. Chicago's newspaper editors had already prejudged the defendants and recommended capital punishment as the only just outcome of the case, but this was not unusual. Pretrial publicity often influenced juries in murder cases, but it was a rare instance when a newspaper publisher shaped the legal strategy of a state's attorney the way Melville Stone did in the Haymarket case.\n\nThe next day Judge Gary outlined the state's position in his charge to the jury. The prosecution would prove \"the existence of a general conspiracy to annihilate the police force and destroy property\" and show that the \"defendants who were the instigators of it\" were therefore liable for the act, \"even if committed without their specific sanction at that particular time and place.\" This ruling surprised and further disturbed the defense team. After court adjourned that day, defense counsel Salomon told reporters that the state had tricked them by saying the eight men were being tried for murder when instead they were being tried for being anarchists before a jury whose members had, for the most part, admitted their bias against anarchists.\n\nOn the second day the prosecution called its first witness. Chief Inspector Bonfield reiterated his version of the events of May 4, emphasizing that men in the crowd opened fire on the police as soon as the bomb went off. Next, the IWPA leader Gottfried Waller took the stand. Arrested for presiding over the Monday-night conspiracy meeting, Waller had been persuaded to turn state's evidence by Captain Schaack, who agreed to give money to Waller's family and to find him safe passage to Europe. Born in Switzerland, a cabinetmaker by trade and a member of the workers' militia, Waller was a star witness for the prosecution, though his account of the events leading up to the bombing fell short of incriminating the defendants.22\n\nWaller described chairing the May 3 meeting in Grief's Hall, where it was decided to hold the protest rally the next night. But he testified that nothing was said about preparing for the Haymarket event because no one expected the police to intervene. No one at the meeting said anything about using dynamite. At one point in examining Waller, Assistant State's Attorney George C. Ingham asked the witness if he possessed any bombs. Defense lawyer Foster routinely objected that Waller was not on trial, and then asked what he thought was a rhetorical question: \"If you show that some man threw one of these bombs without the knowledge, authority or approval of one of these defendants, is that murder?\" Ingham replied immediately: \"Under the law of the state of Illinois, it _is_ murder.\" Therefore, he added ominously, \"the law is strong enough to hang every one of these men.\"23\n\nDURING THE NEXT WEEK, the state called nine police officers and three private citizens to the stand. Reporters quoted Grinnell as being thrilled at how well the trial proceedings had started and described the anarchists as being alternately \"nervous and frightened.\" For example, Fielden, who had been accused of firing a pistol at the police, hid his facial expressions when officers referred to him. However, the mastermind Spies listened imperturbably and smiled encouragingly when witnesses identified him.24\n\nOn July 22, before the afternoon session opened, George Engel's daughter Mary, a young woman of sixteen years, pinned geranium boutonnieres on the defendants' coat lapels as the anarchists' family members offered encouraging looks to the men in the dock. The court reporters became fascinated with the defendants and their entourage. Drawings of the characters in the courtroom opera appeared in the newspapers frequently. Some were quite unflattering to the defendants, but most depicted the anarchists as ordinary human beings. August Spies, whose family was described as seeming \"modest and respectable,\" was \"not by any means an evil-looking person either.\" To one journalist, Lizzie Swank Holmes appeared a wan young woman with a scrawny neck and a large lower lip. \"From her meek appearance one would never guess she was a fire eater and a blood drinker, a member of the American Group, a blatherskite orator and a writer of inflammatory slush for anarchic publications.\"25 Lucy Parsons attracted special attention from reporters, who described her homemade, yet stylish and colorful, attire. Albert, Jr., and Lulu were portrayed as shy, attractive little children whose fair hair and sallow complexions belied any sign of \"colored descent.\" The reporter did not stop with this observation. Mrs. Parsons, one reporter noted, objected to being called a \"colored\" woman and claimed she was born to Mexican and Indian parents. \"But she is decidedly colored, just the same,\" he wrote, \"and any ordinary observer would conclude that at least one of her parents was a Negro.\" 26\n\nEvery day there was a scramble to gain admission to the most sensational trial anyone could recall. Spectators entered and left constantly to satisfy their curiosity, and the courtroom doors flapped open and closed frequently, allowing a few breaths of air to enter the ovenlike chamber. Judge Gary, described as a \"horse-sense individual\" who would \"stand no non-sense,\" nonetheless contributed to the theatricality of the event by filling the seats behind his chair with well-dressed young ladies who clearly enjoyed the spectacle. Mrs. Hortensia Black, the captain's wife, displayed a different demeanor as she leaned into the defense box and whispered encouragement to her fellow Texan, Albert Parsons, and the other defendants. When Mrs. Black's unexpected displays of sympathy toward the anarchists were reported in the press, she immediately placed herself beyond the pale of respectable Chicago.27\n\nA large corps of reporters filed stories every day, highlighting some exciting aspect of the state's case or quoting at length one of the prosecutors' soliloquies. The defense lawyers were given their due, but at times Salomon and Zeisler were described like vaudeville performers. 28 On July 25 the press was aroused by the appearance of a Pinkerton agent who had infiltrated IWPA meetings, one of several spies assigned to the task after businessmen, including Philip Armour and Marshall Field, hired the agency to report on the actions of the International. The anarchists trembled, one headline claimed, when they learned that detectives had been placed in their midst. The secret agent spoke mainly about various speeches he claimed to have heard, including remarks by Fielden and Parsons, who said a few explosions in Chicago would help the cause. He also quoted Spies speaking hypothetically about the \"green\" soldiers in the National Guard, who could be easily scattered by a few bombs.\n\n_Captain William Black and his wife, Hortensia_\n\nThe prosecution made little use of this detective's testimony, even though the agent supported Grinnell's claim that the anarchists believed that May 1 would provide a good opportunity to start the revolution. Pinkertons were controversial figures in Chicago and had been strongly criticized by the mayor for causing trouble at McCormick's. At one point Captain Black threw up his hands in despair when the secret agent made what sounded like disclosures concocted to please his Pinkerton bosses and their powerful clients. Nonetheless, the spy's revelations seemed sensational to the press, because the agent exposed what appeared to be the sinister inner life of anarchist cells.29\n\nThe next day the prosecution produced two witnesses who claimed that Schwab and Spies were directly involved in the bombing. M. M. Thompson testified that he stood next to the two men during the rally and overheard them talking about the police. He thought the word \"pistol\" was spoken and that a man he thought was Spies asked his friend (presumed to be Schwab), \"Do you think one is enough or hadn't we better get more?\" Thompson took this as a reference to bombs. The witness said he tailed the two Germans until they met another much larger man. When shown a photo of the anarchist Rudolph Schnaubelt, Thompson identified him as the third man. 30\n\nEven more damning testimony came from a second witness, who said he saw August Spies light a fuse on a bomb that a man matching Schnaubelt's description threw from the street. However, the witness, H. L. Gilmer, seemed far from credible to a _Tribune_ reporter who described him as an odd-looking eccentric claiming to be a painter by trade. Standing 6 feet 3 inches, he looked so lean and cadaverous that he could have been an escaped giant from one of P. T. Barnum's freak shows. \"Dressed in a seedy black suit, and with his long, curling hair, sanctimonious visage, and great stretch of scraggy throat,\" Gilmer resembled a well-worn Methodist circuit rider. His long legs stuck out of the small witness chair, and one foot revealed the tattered sole of an enormous No. 14 shoe. When the defense lawyer Foster posed a question that puzzled him, Harry Gilmer would squint his eyes, purse up his lower lip and roll his head until he answered. \"Sometimes he would place the tips of his fingers together, throw back his head until one would see about two feet of ropy neck, gaze up at the ceiling a moment, and presently come back to earth with the expected reply.\" He patronizingly referred to Mr. Foster as \"my learned friend\" and acted oddly enough to provoke his interrogator to ask if he was \"an opium-eater or practiced the morphine habit.\"\n\nThen came a moment of high drama. Asked whether he could identify the man who lit the match to the bomb, Gilmer \"stretched out his long, bony, claw-like left hand, and, shaking it directly at Spies, said 'There is the man.' \" The courtroom burst with excited exclamations. Spies jumped to his feet and laughed derisively, as the other prisoners shouted out protests in German and English. Judge Gary banged his gavel furiously for several minutes until the courtroom quieted.31\n\nGilmer's testimony seemed so absurd and so filled with inconsistencies and contradictions that the defendants returned the next day in a rather relaxed mood. Their lawyers were certain they could impugn the testimony of the state's witnesses with their own witnesses. Oscar Neebe was cheerful because no one had connected him with the incident. Parsons casually read a newspaper, while Louis Lingg, who understood very little English, acted nonchalant and Michael Schwab seemed \"philosophical.\" The dashing Spies divided his attention between his women friends and admirers and the witnesses who happened to be testifying. The anarchists were also buoyed by the news that the Central Labor Union had organized a meeting of 800 workers to protest press coverage of the trial, to show sympathy for the defendants and to raise money for their cause.32 On July 30 the Tribune described the prisoners as \"bearing up wonderfully well,\" whereas, \"in fact, the strain of the trial is more telling on the lawyers on both sides than on the Anarchists.\" The jurymen seemed to be wilting in the hot air of the unventilated courtroom, as were the reporters, who complained that the judge insisted on keeping the windows closed to prevent street noise from drowning out any testimony.33\n\nGary tried to maintain an iron grip on the proceedings, yet he presided over a courtroom that began to seem more and more like a circus ring. After Captain Schaack took the stand and introduced a truck-load of physical evidence, the center of the room looked a bit like a dynamite arsenal or a newspaper office. Files and baskets of anarchist papers were spread across tables and spilled onto the floor next to Lingg's trunk, which was surrounded by fragments of iron and splintered wood\u2014 the results of Captain Schaack's experiments in setting off several bombs the police had seized. While the captain described this evidence in grave tones, spectators cast nervous glances at various cigar boxes filled with dynamite, fuses and bombshells. Lingg, however, ignored the proceedings and kept reading a German newspaper, while Spies and his female friends found amusement in the bizarre display. 34\n\nOn August 1, Attorney Salomon opened the defense case by arguing that none of the defendants had been charged with perpetrating the act of murder and that there could not be a trial of accessories without a principal. If none of the defendants threw the bomb, they could not be found guilty of committing murder. The _Tribune_ dismissed Salomon's argument out of hand and described its maker's unlimited self-assurance as galling. 35\n\nTwo days later the defense team called its star witness, Mayor Carter Harrison. The courtroom was besieged by larger crowds than ever that morning, all eager to hear the testimony of the flamboyant mayor. When he took the stand, to one reporter the mayor seemed a changed man, aged by the events of the past two years. Harrison was bareheaded, his white hair thinned; his looks contrasted with the well-known impression he made as a man \"swaggering along the street with his black slouch hat cocked jauntily on his right ear or trotting down a boulevard on his Kentucky thoroughbred.\" The mayor testified that he had carefully observed the crowd at the Haymarket meeting and saw no weapons at all upon any person. He also testified that after listening to the speakers he told Chief Inspector Bonfield nothing dangerous seemed likely to occur and that he should send the police reserves home.36\n\nThe defense team then called a large number of eyewitnesses; some were socialists or trade unionists, and some were unaligned bystanders. They all contradicted the prosecution witnesses. None of them heard Fielden's call to give the police bloodhounds their due, and none saw him shoot a pistol at the officers. No one saw Schwab at the rally where he was supposed to have been. No one saw Spies on the ground where he could have given the lighted bomb to Schnaubelt, the alleged hurler. No one saw the bomb come from the area around the wagon or from the alley behind it. And no one heard any firing from the crowd before or after the explosion. One witness, Dr. James Taylor, testified that he did not see Sam Fielden shoot at the police with a revolver, nor did he see the bomb fly out of the alley behind the speakers' wagon, nor did he see people in the crowd shoot at the police after the bomb exploded. Dr. Taylor said shooting erupted from the street where the police were standing. 37\n\nHere was a remarkable situation. The eyewitnesses called by the defense contradicted nearly every piece of incriminating testimony by the police and the state's witnesses. It was as though the two groups of people in Haymarket Square that night had seen completely different events unfold before their eyes.38\n\nThe young lawyers, Salomon and Zeisler, thought their witnesses had demolished the prosecution's case, but Black and Foster were not so sure and said nothing to the press. The older lawyers had perhaps anticipated the response to their arguments from the newspapers. On August 5 the _Tribune_ reported all evidence produced by the defense to be of trifling significance to the jurymen, who seemed too weary to keep tabs on this new testimony; they had been much more alert when the prosecution was at work. 39\n\n_\"The Great Trial\"_\n\nON AUGUST 7 the accused anarchists began to take the stand to speak in their own defense. The courtroom quieted as Sam Fielden lumbered up to the stand. Nervous at first, he gradually gained confidence and, as he repeated his Haymarket speech, he seemed to be haranguing the jury. One reporter was so impressed that he said Fielden, if acquitted, could make a fortune on the lecture circuit. On August 9, August Spies, the accused ringleader of the anarchist conspiracy, addressed the court. Attired in a trim navy blue suit and a vest that sported a gold chain and tie pin, he looked to one reporter like a well-dressed salesman.40 Speaking fluently with a strong German accent, Spies gave his account of the events at McCormick's and of his attempts to halt the men who charged the plant. He admitted that he approved the circular calling for the Haymarket protest but explained that he had ordered the words \"Workingmen! To Arms!\" removed from the leaflet. He denied receiving a bomb from Michael Schwab at the rally, repeating the point that Schwab was not even present in the square as prosecution witnesses charged. He also explained that he could not have given a bomb to a bomb thrower on the street, as some witnesses said, because he had remained on the wagon the entire time. Finally, Spies said that he had asked the people in the square to hold a peaceful protest.41\n\nThe climax in the anarchist trial approached when the state began to present its summation on August 12. State's Attorney Francis W. Walker started portentously: \"We stand in the temple of justice to exercise the law, where all men stand equal,\" he proclaimed. One of the few native Chicagoans on the scene, the prosecutor was a corpulent young man of thirty years who shouted his words vehemently like a politico on the stump. His voice was so loud, it could be heard outside the courthouse on Clark Street.42 Walker began by arguing that the defendants conspired to precipitate a social revolution, one that cost Mathias Degan his life, but then, carried away by the moment, he strayed far beyond the indictment, alleging that 3,000 men had participated in the conspiracy and that every one of them was equally guilty of the murder of Officer Degan, including all the members of the Lehr und Wehr Verein.43\n\nAfter Walker finished, Sigmund Zeisler opened for the defense. He impressed one reporter as a good-looking young man with a mellifluous foreign accent and an excellent grasp of English, though his gestures seemed superfluously dramatic. Zeisler went after his opponent, Walker, like an archer shooting arrows at a straw target. He said the prosecutor's argument depended not on evidence but on stirring the prejudice of the jury. Showing no respect for the police, he dismissed their credibility as witnesses. \"And before we get through,\" Zeisler declared, \"we will show that these men were not heroes, but knaves, led on by the most cowardly knave who ever held a public position.\" Why, everyone wondered, did the police descend to disperse a peaceful meeting? Even detectives testified that the rally was breaking up when, Zeisler asserted, \"this army of 180 policemen arrived armed with clubs and revolvers, headed by this hero, Bonfield, the savior of his country, to break up this meeting of peaceable and unarmed citizens. Was this courageous or cowardly?\"\n\nZeisler also attacked the prosecution's claim that the defendants planned to start a social revolution on May 1. He said that anyone who had studied history knew, as the anarchists certainly did, that a revolution could not be called up at any given moment. A revolution was a thing that developed of its own accord, and no single man, or even a dozen men, could simply inaugurate a revolution on a certain day. \"Has ever a ridiculous statement like this been made to an intelligent jury?\" he wondered.44\n\nZeisler concluded by accusing State's Attorney Grinnell of being \"blinded by malice and prejudice.\" He charged that the lead prosecutor had eagerly joined in a conspiracy with the police to send these men to the gallows, even if it meant relying upon the testimony of eccentrics like Harry Gilmer.45 The young lawyer acted as though he were speaking before a public forum on the West Side, where citizens hated Bonfield and his blue-coated patrolmen, instead of before a jury who regarded the police as heroes.\n\nGeorge Ingham, the third state's attorney, followed Zeisler's polemic with an appeal by telling the jurymen that their verdict would make history. \"For, if I appreciate this case correctly . . . the very question itself is whether organized government shall perish from the earth; whether the day of civilization shall go down into the night of barbarism; whether the wheels of history shall be rolled back, and all that has been gained by thousands of years of progress be lost.\"46\n\nDefense lawyer Foster followed with his own passionate speech, one that lasted the rest of the day. A droll man with a shock of red curly hair and a mustache and complexion to match, Foster played every card he had used as a defense attorney in previous murder cases. He made it clear that he had no sympathy for the anarchists or their political beliefs. He was a defender of the law, but he wanted the law to be just. Foster then attacked the entire chain of evidence the state had tried to forge and found broken links everywhere. He said that Spies had no idea of the significance of the word _Ruhe_ when it went into the letter box of his newspaper, a key item in linking Spies to the alleged conspiracy and the actual bombing. Turning to Parsons, the defense lawyer noted that no evidence had been produced that he was part of any alleged conspiracy. If Parsons had expected violence at the meeting on May 4, the attorney asked, why would he have brought his wife and children to the rally?\n\nFoster also analyzed the prosecution's case against Louis Lingg. The defense attorney conceded that Lingg made some bombs and that one of the bombs he manufactured might have been thrown onto Desplaines Street. But even if the prosecution's chemical experts were correct in identifying the lethal bomb as one Lingg that had made, this evidence did not prove that Lingg was party to any conspiracy or that he deliberately gave one of his bombs to the man who threw it. The state's whole case against Lingg was based on guesses, suppositions and inferences.47\n\nFoster next turned to the case against Oscar Neebe, who was on trial for his life because he left a few copies of the Haymarket circular on the bar of a saloon, and because police found a shotgun, an old revolver and a knife in his house. He asked the jurymen if they were going to hang Neebe on the basis of such evidence, or hang any of the defendants based on circumstantial evidence. \"Are you going to be driven by passion, influenced by prejudice to do that which you will regret the longest days of your lives?\" he inquired. \"Are you going to do something which will haunt you to the grave?\" Then Foster ended for the day by saying: \"If these men are to be tried on general principles for advocating doctrines opposed to our ideas of propriety, there is no use for me to argue the case. Let the Sheriff go and erect the scaffold; let him bring eight ropes with dangling nooses at the ends; let him pass them around the necks of these men; and let us stop this farce now.\"48\n\nThe next day William Black presented his closing to a courtroom packed with 1,000 people. The captain impressed journalists, including one who described him as a tall, handsome, military-looking man with a graceful, gentlemanly manner, a large vocabulary and a powerful voice softened by a pleasing Kentucky accent. Black argued that the testimony of the prosecution's star witnesses, Thompson and Gilmer, had been utterly discredited and that the state's case was based entirely on circumstantial evidence. He said the whole story of Spies stirring up trouble was contradicted by testimony showing he went to the Haymarket to counsel peace. The prosecution had not proven that Spies knew anything about the May 3 meeting where the alleged conspiracy was planned, or that he had any contact with the bomb maker or the bomb thrower. 49\n\nMoreover, Black thought he had all the testimony he needed to show that six of the men charged with murder were not at the scene when the bomb exploded. The only ones present were Spies and Fielden, who were clearly visible on the hay wagon just before the explosion occurred. As a result, the state relied upon testimony that Fielden threatened the police and fired a gun at them\u2014testimony contradicted by many witnesses. In the end, the prosecution stopped trying to show any direct connection between the defendants and the bomb thrower. Grinnell even admitted the defendants may not have known the bomber. The whole case rested on the contention that each of the indicted anarchists \"abetted, encouraged, and advised\" the throwing of a bomb and were therefore as guilty of murder as the one who threw it.50\n\nThis allegation was based on the existence of a plot hatched on May 3 to launch an armed struggle the next night at the Haymarket; the conspiracy supposedly involved Lingg, who volunteered to make the bombs, including the one that killed Officer Degan. However, Lingg was not present at the meeting, nor were any of the other defendants except Engel and Fischer. These two men did propose the Haymarket protest rally but, according to police witnesses, said nothing about taking any kind of action there. Even the testimony of two anarchists who turned state's evidence failed to show that any plot was formed on May 3 that led to the explosion on May 4. In any case, the prosecution had not proven that the unidentified bomber was part of that alleged conspiracy and that the defendants were therefore accessories who helped plan a criminal act.\n\nCaptain Black insisted that since the state charged the defendants with murder, the sole question before the jury was the matter of who threw the bomb. It would not be fair to convict the defendants by showing that they favored violent deeds. He appealed to the \"twelve good men\" who sat before him to put aside their prejudices against the defendants and judge them solely upon the evidence. \"Gentlemen,\" he said, \"these eight lives are in your hands\" and \"you are answerable to no power but God and history.\" The captain finished his closing with a testimony to the virtue of his clients and their beliefs, proclaiming that \"Jesus, the great Socialist of Judea, first preached the socialism taught by Spies and his modern disciples.\" In this light, he could only close with the words of the \"Divine Socialist\": \"As ye would that others should do to you, do even so to them.\"51\n\nJulius Grinnell responded with a powerful closing of the state's case that displayed all of his eloquence and determination. He began by scolding Captain Black for descending so far that he compared \"some low murderers to the Savior of mankind.\" He also objected to comparing the anarchists to martyrs like John Brown. Then he lectured the jury on government and republican politics. Not all governments ultimately resulted in despotism, as Captain Black had stated in his closing. In fact, in the United States republicanism had triumphed in the American Revolution and then in the Civil War, said Grinnell, and, as a result, freedom was extended to all, even former slaves and those \"driven here by oppression abroad.\" But now that America was so free, it might be in danger, for \"in this country, above all countries in the world, anarchy is possible.\" Indeed, the state's attorney warned, \"there is but one step from republicanism to anarchy.\" Freeing the anarchists would mean taking that step. And that was why, he explained, \"there never was in the history of this country . . . a case that has attracted such interest as this.\" If the jurymen unjustly acquitted the anarchists, their followers would \"flock out again like a lot of rats and vermin.\" And so the jurors would be making history when they rendered their verdict. \"The law which has made us strong today and which you have sworn today demands of you a punishment of these men. Don't do it because I ask you. Do it because the law demands it.\"52\n\nAfter this grave discourse, Grinnell added an appealing personal note. \"We may never meet again, Gentlemen. In this case I have been pleased to make your acquaintance. I hope I have done nothing to offend you, either as to propriety, decency, good sense, or anything else. If we part here, we part as friends.\" After these pleasantries, he ended by telling the jurymen: \"You stand between the living and the dead. You stand between law and violated law. Do your duty courageously, even if that duty is an unpleasant and a severe one.\"53\n\nAfter Grinnell finished, Judge Gary brought the long trial proceedings to a close, instructing the jurymen they could find the eight men guilty of murder even if the crime was committed by someone who was not charged. According to one observer, even the contemptuous Louis Lingg, \"the tiger anarchist,\" finally seemed to realize the danger of his situation. 54\n\nOn August 19 the jury retired at 2:50 p.m. to the nearby Revere House Hotel. Crowds watched them through the windows that evening and saw men in their shirtsleeves resting in easy positions, smoking and apparently enjoying themselves. Clearly, they had speedily reached a verdict.55\n\n_Judge Joseph E. Gary_\n\nMore than 1,000 people gathered around the courthouse at ten the next morning, anxiously waiting to hear the jury's decision. A small army of bailiffs and policemen guarded the doors and held back the surging masses of people by sheer force. The well-dressed ladies who had been attending the trial as spectators were barred from entry this day; the only persons admitted were lawyers, police officers, relatives, reporters and a few favored members of the bar.\n\nWhen the jurymen entered at 9:55 a.m., the defendants displayed their customary calm. Parsons, sitting near a window, took out his red handkerchief and waved to the crowd below. Schwab said to him, \"I wish I could go down there and make a speech to those people.\" No longer side by side with the defendants, Captain Black sat down with his wife, who asked him, \"Are they prepared for the worst?\" \"Prepared!\" he said. \"Yes, fully prepared to laugh at death.\" They talked about their end, Black added, much more coolly than he could.56\n\nThen, in the perfectly still room, the jury foreman read the verdict. He said the jury had found seven of the defendants guilty of murder as charged and had fixed the penalty as death. Oscar Neebe was also found guilty of murder but was sentenced to imprisonment for fifteen years. At first the room remained silent, as though a thousand people had sucked the air out of it. Then the eerie quiet was broken by the hysterical screams of Michael Schwab's wife, Maria.57\n\nCaptain Black was shocked by the sentence; he had expected conviction from a jury he thought was prejudiced, but he never expected the death sentence to be pronounced on all but one of the eight men. The attorney hid his emotions in the moments after the verdict was announced and simply moved for a new trial. Among the prisoners sitting in the dock, only two men reacted. Oscar Neebe, who had been assured of acquittal by his lawyers, was visibly disturbed; and Albert Parsons, ever theatrical, was curiously affected: he stood, smiled and bowed to the audience and then turned to the window and tied the string on the shade into the form of a noose to let the crowd outside know the result. As the news leaked out into the street, cheerful shouts of relief erupted from the huge crowd.58\n\nThe bailiffs then led the prisoners back to their jail cells. Spies and Fischer looked pale, said one reporter, but not visibly disturbed, nor did Engel or Lingg. Neebe, however, walked like a stricken man, Fielden shuffled out with support from his comrades, and the frail Schwab tottered behind Parsons, who, it was reported, had \"lost none of his Texas nerve.\"59\n\nOutside, courthouse reporters elbowed each other to interview the attorneys and the jurors. One juror said he disliked lawyer Zeisler and was offended by Parsons's \"impudence.\" Another commented, \"Every man on the jury was an American,\" and, therefore, he explained, no one showed any \"toleration for imported preachers of assassination.\" 60\n\nThe evening papers featured high praise for these jurymen and reported that wealthy businessmen would raise a large sum to pay them as a sign of gratitude. The _Tribune_ reported \"universal satisfaction with the verdict\" because \"the law had been vindicated.\" The _Inter-Ocean_ said, \"The long strain of suspense and anxiety is over,\" adding that no trial in living memory had generated such widespread interest in a verdict. \"Anarchism has been on trial ever since May 4; and it now has got its verdict. Death is the only fitting penalty.\" All editorialists declared that the defendants had been fairly prosecuted and ably defended; and some expressed dismay that the anarchists had exercised their right to appeal the decision, because it might delay their date with the hangman. 61\n\nDURING THE MID NINETEENTH century, murder trials became enormously attractive to the nation's newspapers, and then during the Gilded Age, when big-city dailies mushroomed and competed ruthlessly for readers, some courtroom dramas became national events and certain defendants became celebrities. The breadth and depth of coverage devoted to the Haymarket case exceeded all others in the post\u2013Civil War years, because, except for the presidential assassins John Wilkes Booth and Charles Guiteau, no civilians had ever been tried for anything like the crime the eight anarchists were accused of committing; nor had any defendants in a local criminal court ever been prosecuted in such an overtly political trial. The defendants were not only held accountable for the unimaginable crime of murdering seven policemen; they were also being tried for attempting \"to make anarchy the rule\" in America. 62\n\nAs a result, newspapers across the nation sounded a chorus of approval at the verdict and the sentences. Many editorials reflected the conviction, or at least the hope, that the impending executions would kill anarchism in America and rid the nation of the high anxiety that had existed since May 4, 1886.63 For example, a New Orleans newspaper editor wrote that \"all the chapters in the dramatic and horrible Haymarket tragedy have been written save one; all the acts finished but the last.\" When the curtain rolled up again, with a nation watching, the final tableau would reveal \"a row of gibbeted felons, with haltered throats and fettered hands and feet, swinging slowly to and fro, in the air,\" said the _New Orleans Times-Democrat._ And then, to wild applause, the curtain would drop as the people exhaled in unison, knowing that anarchism was \"forever dead in America!\"64\n\nNo one in the mainstream press would have noticed the few dissenting views on the trial contained in the radical press, such as the one voiced by the editor of the _Workmen's Advocate._ \"Look at the case in the light of Truth and Reason,\" he urged his readers: a large squad of police raided a peaceful meeting, and were struck by a bomb thrown by an unknown assailant\u2014as likely as not a Pinkerton agent provocateur. The next day a reign of terror began not only for the anarchists but for others who expressed similar criticisms of business and government. During the so-called trial, the prosecution called to the stand various \"professional perjurers\" but could not show that any of the defendants had any hand in the bomb throwing or had fired any shots at the police. The whole tragic performance, said the editor, concluded with the sentencing of the anarchists to death, not \"for breaking any law, but for daring to denounce the usurpations of the robber rulers of our Satanic society.\"65\n\nFor a week following the verdict, no one in Chicago except the anarchists and their supporters expressed anything but jubilation over the verdict. Then, in the next days and weeks expressions of consternation began to rise from the city's working-class neighborhoods, saloons and meeting halls. A small Chicago newspaper friendly to unions even reported that a vast majority of laborers in the city believed the bomb throwing was not the work of the anarchists but of some other party intent on deflating the eight-hour movement. This belief was rapidly spreading through all the ranks of labor, said the editor, but the city's businessmen still had no conception of the reaction the verdict would eventually produce among workers in Chicago or in other cities across the nation and around the world.66\nChapter Fourteen\n\n _You Are Being Weighed in the Balance_\n\nAUGUST 22 , 1886\u2013APRIL 2, 1887\n\nTHE DAY AFTER the verdict came down, a large group of discontented workingmen gathered at Greenbaum Hall on Chicago's West Side. The assembly represented all the divisions of the city's tattered army of labor\u2014the skilled and the unskilled, the native and the foreign-born. There were Bavarian Catholics and Swedish Lutherans along with Irish-American Knights and British socialists, as well as German and Bohemian anarchists. Most of these men had voted for Mayor Carter Harrison and the Democrats in the last election; some had voted Republican, and some, the militants, had not voted at all. Now, after the tumultuous spring of strikes and a tense summer of trial news, they had had enough of politics as usual. They were assembled that day to found their own united labor party and run their own candidates for office. Before the proceedings began, the delegates all rose to give a standing ovation, not to a labor leader, but to a middle-aged woman in a dark matronly dress. The woman they cheered that day was Mrs. Hortensia Black, who spoke for her husband, Captain Black, the corporation lawyer whose exhaustive defense of the Haymarket defendants had made him a working-class hero in Chicago and beyond.\n\nWhen the jury had rendered its verdict and its death sentences on August 20, few trade unionists commented in the press. Still, the news that came from Judge Gary's courtroom alarmed many workers, who now feared losing their rights to protest and speak out in anger. A dangerous precedent had been set that day: if some kind of lethal violence occurred after the trade unionists freely assembled and expressed themselves, then their leaders could be indicted and tried as accessories to murder.1\n\nAfter hearing Mrs. Black's critical remarks on the Haymarket trial and verdict, the meeting at Greenbaum's voted to field a full independent ticket in the November elections, despite the opposition of some top union officials. On August 28, the _Chicago Express,_ whose editor supported the Knights and the eight-hour movement, branded Inspector Bonfield the \"real author of the Haymarket slaughter.\" And on Labor Day various Chicago union members met to denounce the verdict and the role of the newspapers in whipping up hatred and fear.2\n\nExpressions of protest grew in volume during the fall, when Captain Black and his team harshly criticized the summer's trial proceedings and made the case for a new trial.3 Judge Gary, who had received huge accolades from the fourth estate, gave the critics no satisfaction. After a week of hearings during the first week of October, he denied the defendants' plea with a blunt statement insisting that the anarchists had received a fair trial during which the people had shown unprecedented patience toward the accused.4\n\nWhen the judge finished reading his ruling on October 7, the convicts were allowed to speak on their own behalf before the sentence was passed. Normally, this judicial ritual permitted defendants to offer a belated confession or to express sorrow over their victims' fate. What happened next in the Chicago courthouse was anything but normal, as the eight anarchists recited a litany of injustices perpetrated against them by the police, the press, the prosecutors, the judge and the jury. For three days the anarchists took the floor and held it while they addressed a higher court of popular opinion, a court constituted, in their minds, by the worldwide community of workers. The anarchists believed they were being tried for the words they had spoken in the past, and now they aimed to be remembered in the future for the last words they uttered.\n\nOn October 8, as August Spies rose to speak before the court, Judge Gary repeated his caution to the audience to refrain from any demonstration. He then ordered all to be seated, even though some had to sit on the floor. After some moving and shuffling, everyone quieted as the so-called ringleader of the Chicago anarchists looked out over the room and began to give the speech of his life. It lasted for several hours as Spies rebutted Grinnell's charges one by one, impeached the testimony of paid witnesses and took exception to the state's attorney's appeal to patriotism, \"the last refuge of the scoundrel.\" \"I have been a citizen of this city as long as Mr. Grinnell,\" he declared, \"and am probably as good a citizen as Grinnell.\" Indeed, Spies asserted, he was a principled man, not a common murderer with no principles as the attorney charged. He was indeed a man of ideas and he would not allow the state to deny this. Spies said he would not divest himself of his ideas, even if he could, because they constituted part of himself. 5\n\n_August Spies_\n\nWhen Spies stopped defending himself, he took the offensive, challenging those who believed that killing the anarchists would bring an end to the nation's labor troubles. \"If you think you can stamp out the labor movement, then hang us!\" But, he added, \"Here you will tread upon a spark, but here, and there, and behind you and in front of you, and everywhere, flames will blaze up. It is a subterranean fire. You cannot put it out. The ground is on fire upon which you stand.\" Spies concluded by declaring that if the state thought people should suffer capital punishment because they \"dared to tell the truth,\" then he would \"proudly and defiantly pay the costly price.\" \"Call your hangman!\" he said to Judge Gary. He was prepared to die like others before him\u2014from Socrates to Christ to Galileo\u2014who had been \"crucified\" for telling the truth.6\n\nLike their leader, August Spies, the other defendants who addressed the court refused to beg for mercy. Michael Schwab offered a defense of anarchy, saying it was the antithesis of violence. Violence was used on all sides, he argued, and the anarchists only advocated \"violence against violence\"\u2014as a \"necessary means of self defense.\" Louis Lingg took a very different tack. His speech was emphatic and angry. He said he would die gladly on the gallows knowing that hundreds of people he knew would now make use of dynamite. Then he denounced the entire process as a sham. When his concluding remarks were translated from German to English, gasps arose in the courtroom. \"I despise you and I despise your laws,\" Lingg had shouted. \"Hang me for it!\" 7\n\nOscar Neebe described his dilemma with biting irony, saying that he had been accused of the \"crimes\" of organizing workers, publishing a workers' newspaper, marshaling a parade of anarchist union members. No evidence had been introduced to show that Neebe was connected to the alleged conspiracy in any way, but for crimes like being the marshal of a demonstration, he was to be confined to prison for fifteen years. He alone would escape the gallows, but at this reprieve he expressed only despair. \"Your honor,\" he concluded, to the dismay of his lawyers, \"I am sorry I am not to be hung with the rest of them.\" Neebe said it would be more honorable to die suddenly next to his comrades \"than be killed by inches\" in prison.8\n\nAt the end of the day on October 8, Albert Parsons took his turn to speak. He had made many speeches in tense settings\u2014at gatherings before freed slaves on Texas plantations and at rallies before vast throngs in Chicago's raucous market squares\u2014but now he spoke in a court of law before a captive audience of a thousand of his fellow citizens and scores of reporters. He wanted to give a speech not only for the moment but for the ages, a speech that might not save his life but that would preserve his voice for posterity.\n\nLooking sallow and wasted from his confinement, Parsons stood before the courtroom in a black suit with a red flower in his lapel and a necktie to match. He placed an enormous folder of papers on the table in front of him and then began speaking in his remarkably clear voice. At first, he assumed the role of a petitioner.\n\nYour Honor, if there is one distinguishing characteristic which has made itself prominent in the conduct of this trial it has been the passion, the heat, the anger, the violence of everything connected with this case. . . . You ask me why a sentence of death should not be pronounced upon me. You ask me why you should give me a new trial that I might establish my innocence and the ends of justice be served. I answer, your Honor, and say that this verdict is a verdict of passion, born of passion, nurtured in passion, and is the sum total of the organized passion of the city of Chicago. For this reason I ask your suspension of the sentence and a new trial.9\n\nThen Parsons altered his tone, shifting from the part of petitioner to the role of denouncer. He first attacked those who claimed to represent public sentiment, \"that vile and infamous monopoly of hired liars\u2014the capitalist press.\" Addressing Gary, he proclaimed, \"this trial was conducted by a mob, prosecuted by a mob . . . an organized and powerful mob.\" At this moment, the convict uttered the words that would be quoted over and over again by those who looked back in anger at the trial. \"Now, your Honor, I hold that our execution, as the matter stands now, would be judicial murder.\" He kept on speaking through the afternoon and then, as evening approached and gaslights popped on, Parsons calmly turned to the judge and said: \"Your Honor, if you will permit it, I would like to stop now and resume tomorrow morning.\"10\n\nAt 10 a.m. the next day, seemingly refreshed and composed, Parsons carried on with his discourse. He would hold forth for the rest of the day. Once again, he began in a solicitous way. \"Well, possibly I have said some foolish things,\" he granted. \"Who has not?\" He explained that the plight of the workers and the assaults made upon them by policemen and militiamen overwhelmed him with feelings of pity and indignation, and so he had said some things he might not have said in a cooler frame of mind. The angry words he had uttered did not, however, mean that he was an assassin. \"I am called a dynamiter by the prosecution here. Why? Did I ever use dynamite? No. Did I ever have any? No.\" Then why was he called a dynamiter? Simply because he told workers that dynamite would, like the invention of gunpowder, serve to equalize social power.\n\nThen he was off again, speaking without apology. \"So today,\" he declared, \"dynamite comes as the emancipator of man from the domination . . . of his fellow man.\" Judge Gary grew visibly impatient, but Parsons refused to change direction. \"Bear with me now,\" he said. \"Dynamite is the diffusion of power. It is democratic; it makes everybody equal.\" After infuriating most of his listeners with this lecture, the speaker returned to the legal question of free speech. \"It is proposed by the prosecution here to take me by force and strangle me on the gallows for these things I have said, for these expressions,\" he remarked, but did it follow that he was a dynamiter because he held these views and expressed them in angry speeches?11\n\nParsons continued in a less provocative way, assuming new speaking roles as he proceeded into the late morning. He spoke as a historian, narrating the development of the labor movement and the history of bloody lockouts and massacres suffered by workers, devoting special attention to the Pinkerton Agency, \"a private army\" employers hired to terrorize workers and suppress their protests. He spoke as a political philosopher, defining the meaning of socialism and explaining that it took two forms\u2014 anarchism, an egalitarian society without a controlling authority, and state socialism, which meant governmental control of everything. He spoke as an economist, examining the wage question, the eight-hour reform movement and the relations of capital and labor. And he spoke as a journalist about the \"real facts of the Haymarket tragedy,\" quoting the testimony of Mayor Harrison, who said that the meeting was peaceful and that none of the speakers had incited the crowd.12\n\n_Albert Parsons_\n\nParsons even assumed the role of a prosecutor, turning the tables on the representatives of the state; they were the ones who had violated the defendants' rights to free speech, to a free press, to free assembly and the right to self-defense. Flipping the prosecution's script, the speaker claimed that the bombing itself was \"the deliberate work of monopoly\u2014 the act of those who themselves charge us with this deed,\" and insisted that the accused were the real victims\u2014victims of a conspiracy hatched by the city's millionaires to deprive them of their lives and liberties. 13\n\nAs the day wore on, the audience shifted uneasily, and Judge Gary became increasingly agitated, expressing his irritation with hard looks and gestures. But there were still more voices of Albert Parsons to be heard. He even lectured the jury as a scientist on\u2014of all things\u2014the chemistry of dynamite. Parsons argued that the missile thrown on May 4 was not made of dynamite; it was instead \"what was known in the Civil War as an infernal bomb composed of gunpowder, not nitroglycerin.\" The proof lay in the testimony of the surgeons who described wounds in the policemen's bodies that were far less serious than if dynamite had been used. Dynamite would have blown them into \"unrecognizable fragments.\" 14\n\nThen, shifting abruptly to the high ground, Parsons identified himself as an American citizen, one whose ancestors fought at Bunker Hill and Valley Forge. He and Oscar Neebe were the only defendants who \"had the fortune, or the misfortune\u2014as some people look at it\u2014of being born in this country,\" he said. The rest of his comrades were charged with being foreigners, \"as though it was a crime to be born in some other country.\" Then, rallying his strength, the speaker declared himself \"an Inter-nationalist,\" one whose patriotism extended \"beyond the boundary lines of a single state.\" Opening his arms wide, he declared, \"The world is my country, all mankind my countrymen.\"15\n\nAt about 1 p.m. Parsons, clearly exhausted, asked the judge for a short lunch recess, explaining that he had been weakened physically by his confinement in a gloomy cell without his customary outdoor exercise. Judge Gary cut Parsons off and denied his plea for a recess.16 Angry now, the speaker turned on the judge and addressed him directly in a thin but insistent voice. \"I am here standing in the spot awaiting your sentence, because I hate authority in every form,\" he rasped. \"I am doomed by you to suffer an ignominious death because I am an outspoken enemy of coercion, of privilege, of force, of authority.\" He was nearing the end. \"Think you, the people are blind, are asleep, are indifferent?\" Parsons asked, addressing all those in authority. \"You deceive yourselves. I tell you, as a man of the people, and I speak for them, that your every word and act . . . are recorded. You are being weighed in the balance. The people are conscious of your power\u2014your stolen power. I, a working man, stand here and to your face, in your stronghold of oppression, denounce . . . your crimes against humanity. It is for this I die, but my death will not have been in vain.\" Near collapse, he said in a low tone: \"I guess I have finished. I don't know as I have anything more to say.\" 17 Not a single voice cheered, not a pair of hands clapped for this speech, the last one Albert Parsons would ever deliver.\n\nIn a heartbeat, the judge pronounced the sentence. Oscar Neebe was to be imprisoned in the Joliet State Penitentiary, to serve a fifteen-year sentence at hard labor. Each of the other seven defendants would, at the appointed time and in the manner prescribed by state statute, be \"hanged by the neck until he is dead.\" Then Gary ordered the bailiff to remove the prisoners.\n\nAnd so it ended, one of the most remarkable criminal trials that ever occurred in this country; remarkable for its sheer drama and for the passionate interest it aroused among people all over America; remarkable for the prosecution's unprecedented application of conspiracy law; remarkable for the quality of evidence used to convict seven men of murder; and remarkable for the way the proceedings and the verdict divided Americans along fault lines of class and nationality.18\n\nJUDGE GARY HAD ORDERED the execution of the condemned men to take place on or before December 3, 1886, but Captain Black held out hope for a reprieve until the case could be reviewed by the state supreme court. In the meantime, the anarchists' supporters began to mount a defense campaign. Lucy Parsons took to the road and spoke to union audiences in several cities, where she raised money and aroused sympathy.19 Support for the defendants surfaced in the anarchist-led unions as well as in various assemblies of the Knights of Labor, where Parsons and the other Chicago anarchists were known as organizers and leaders of the eight-hour movement.\n\nDuring and after the red scare in May of 1886, the powerful movement for shorter hours had all but expired, as employers regained the offensive and restored traditional workdays of ten or more hours. On October 11, 1887, the big meat companies in the Chicago stockyards announced a return to ten hours a day after negotiations broke down over the Knights of Labor's demands to maintain an eight-hour day. A huge strike then erupted in the yards, where the Knights had recruited more than 20,000 members. The packers employed the Pinkerton Agency, which provided 800 armed guards to protect strikebreakers. The workers held out for three weeks, against the orders of national leaders, but they eventually gave up their struggle to save the eight-hour day, and trudged back into the yards in early November thoroughly defeated.20 This was the beginning of the end of the Noble and Holy Order in Chicago and in other cities, where the Knights suffered from crippling internal conflicts and from other devastating defeats at the hands of unified groups of employers who abandoned their competitive ways to form a solid coalition against their unionized employees.21\n\nThe national leader of the troubled order, Terence Powderly, who had called an end to the stockyards strike, was denounced as a Benedict Arnold by his embittered followers in Chicago. He also faced growing sentiment among his members that the anarchists there had been unfairly tried and cruelly sentenced. At the union's national convention that October, Powderly's forces beat back a resolution declaring the anarchists innocent, but the delegates did issue a plea for mercy on behalf of the condemned.22 After this meeting, the Knights in Chicago endorsed a much stronger resolution branding the verdict \"an outrage upon common justice\" and a result of a \"capitalistic and judicial conspiracy.\"23 As recriminations mounted within the order, the imprisoned anarchists were left with the cold comfort that they had long before warned the labor movement about the Grand Master Workman's cowardice.\n\nA few weeks later the editors of the Chicago Knights of Labor newspaper, who had said on May 5 that the anarchists should be treated like wild beasts, gave up ownership of the newspaper as a result of rising anger over the trial and verdict within the ranks. These editors, Powderly loyalists, were replaced by Ethelbert Stewart, a radical, who had been mentored by the journalist Henry Demarest Lloyd when the young Stewart was working in a coffin factory. As editor of the Chicago _Knights of Labor,_ Stewart published several editorials calling the anarchists' prosecution a blatant attack against workers' civil liberties.24 Powderly soon demanded that all Knights stop supporting the anarchists, but Bert Stewart defied the edict and wrote another editorial insisting that the right to a \"fair trial\" was far more important than any order on earth.25\n\nON NOVEMBER 23, the anarchists' lawyer, Captain Black, argued for a writ of error before the Illinois Supreme Court in Springfield, and a few days later, for a stay of execution, which the justices granted, until a hearing on the appeal could take place.26 It was Thanksgiving when Black brought the good news to the cold, dark confines of the Cook County Jail. There was much rejoicing as the anarchists ate and celebrated their reprieve with family and friends.\n\nWith this vital challenge met, Captain Black and George Schilling searched for another associate to aid in preparing the appeal. They called first upon Colonel Robert Green Ingersoll, who had championed the eight-hour law when he was Richard Oglesby's attorney general. The colonel had already consulted with the defense committee, expressing his view that Judge Gary had erred when he instructed the jury that they could convict the defendants of murder if they had spoken with criminal intent. Ingersoll also thought the men had been tried unfairly because the jury was dominated by clerks who were there to do the bidding of their employers. 27 The colonel believed that the anarchists had made terrible mistakes in word and deed, but he thought they were motivated by humanitarian considerations. As the nation's most prominent atheist, though, Ingersoll feared that he would harm, if not doom, the anarchists' case if he was associated with it. 28\n\nCaptain Black and George Schilling then searched further and found the kind of attorney Ingersoll thought the appellants needed when they secured the services of a famous Illinois criminal lawyer. Leonard Swett, then sixty-one years of age, had become Lincoln's close friend when they rode the Eighth Circuit of Southern Illinois as young lawyers. Swett had worked with Richard Oglesby to help their friend win the Republican presidential nomination at the 1860 convention. During the Civil War, while he practiced criminal law, Swett had served as a trusted adviser to Lincoln. After the assassination in 1865, Swett moved his practice to Chicago, where he helped to found the city bar association and became renowned for winning acquittals in numerous murder cases.29\n\nDURING THE NEXT MONTHS the anarchists gained something close to celebrity status as they received constant attention in the press and entertained a steady flow of visitors. Joseph R. Buchanan, a prominent organizer and editor for the Knights of Labor, arrived from Denver to bring good tidings from western workers; he then called regularly to see \"the boys\" after he moved to Chicago to work for the defense. Leading European socialists also visited the jail, including the German party leader, Wilhelm Liebknecht, along with Karl Marx's daughter Eleanor and her husband, Edward Aveling. Parsons enjoyed many visits from old friends such as the anarchist Dyer D. Lum, who would play a prominent role in the anarchists' story. Born and raised in Massachusetts, Lum had become an abolitionist and a devoted admirer of John Brown. He enlisted in the Union army to liberate the slaves and after the war joined Wendell Phillips in the reform movement. Lum met Parsons in 1879, when they were lobbying for a national eight-hour law, and drew closer to the Texan as both men moved toward anarchism. A brilliant writer and a sophisticated intellectual, Dyer Lum was utterly devoted to the revolutionary cause and as committed to the use of force as his hero John Brown had been. Lum was also deeply committed to the Haymarket defendants, so much so that he sold his business in New York after their arrest and moved to Chicago to aid in their defense and to reopen Albert Parsons's newspaper, the Alarm.30\n\nIn addition, the defendants were interviewed by scores of reporters from the very newspapers whose editors had already tried them and condemned them to death. One of them was Charles Edward Russell, who filed daily reports from Chicago for Joseph Pulitzer's _New York World._ The journalist spoke at length with them all, save Lingg. At first, they regarded Russell as their natural enemy and part of the capitalist press machinery that had convicted them in the public eye, but, eventually, the inmates became approachable, even cordial. The impressions the convicts made on this reporter and other journalists began to seep into news stories, which often described the anarchists as ordinary men visiting affectionately with family and friends. Russell, for example, found Spies attractive, \"well educated, magnificently set up, fluent and plausible in English as well as German, a blue-eyed Saxon, emotional, sentimental and rash.\" Fielden seemed an affable, almost comic figure, a likable, awkward \"galoot.\" Schwab looked the part of a German university professor, \"a thin, angular, sallow person, spectacled, long-haired, black-bearded, unkempt\"\u2014a man with \"the best mental equipment\" but a \"dreamy\" way about him. Fischer, on the other hand, seemed to Russell a hotheaded youth, \"a half baked student of German philosophical anarchism.\" Engel's beliefs, however, were the genuine product of his hard experience as an orphan who had been kicked from pillar to post. \"He had a chubby, good-natured face, looked like an elderly German bar tender, seemed to cherish no resentments,\" and he \"talked freely and entertainingly\" with anyone who approached him.31\n\nAlbert Parsons was the special one to Russell, who confessed that he took a strong liking to the prisoner. Russell found the Texan an immensely engaging conversationalist and a picturesque storyteller with good taste in poetry and an excellent singing voice. The reporter regarded Parsons's political thinking as incomplete and confused, but still found it impossible not to like him.32 Thus the anarchists, once demonized as beasts, began, now that they were caged on death row, to be humanized by the newspapermen who had helped put them behind bars.\n\n_George Engel (left) and Adolph Fischer_\n\nArt Young, a twenty-year-old artist from Wisconsin, depicted the condemned men in their cells for the _Chicago Daily News_ as they assumed casual poses. In one drawing Parsons is seated looking like a lawyer relaxing in a businessman's club, one leg thrown over the other, a newspaper dangling loosely from one hand, a cigarillo held elegantly in the other. Another less artful drawing by a different illustrator showed Albert embracing his daughter, Lulu, while Lucy is seen looking in at them from behind the bars. Young also drew Maria Schwab dressed in a shirtwaist and wearing a large hat, sitting in a chair and talking to her husband, Michael, as he leaned against the bars to be close to her.33\n\nLingg played a special part in this jailhouse mise-en-sc\u00e8ne _._ His hostile looks, his defiance in court, his threatening words and his reckless attitude made the others seem less menacing. Art Young, who was the same age as the prisoner, drew him with his arms crossed and a faint smile on his lips. \"My memory of Louis Lingg is distinct,\" Young wrote later, \"because the sun was shining in his cell as I sketched him. He was a handsome boy, sitting proudly and looking directly toward me as much as to say, 'Go ahead, nothing matters.' \" But to other reporters, Lingg seemed a horrifying character, the embodiment of evil. Russell found him a terrifying young man with a malignant stare. Indeed, Lingg seemed the only really dangerous man among the eight; so it struck the reporter as odd that this \"tiger anarchist\" had a sweetheart who visited him\u2014 a tall, statuesque brunette, who came frequently from the West Side and talked intimately with the prisoner through the steel bars and wire mesh of his cell.34\n\nThe most sensational visitor of all was Nina Van Zandt, a well-bred young woman who had become closely attached to August Spies. \"She was about twenty-four, slenderly-fashioned, handsome, always exquisitely gowned,\" Russell recalled, and she conducted herself with the \"deportment of a refined educated woman.\" She came to see Spies every day and spoke quietly to him for her allotted hour. It was impossible for the reporter to imagine a figure more incongruous in such a grim place. Other journalists were fascinated by Spies's lady friend as well, and they eagerly reported her appearances and speculated as to her motives.35\n\nThe only child of a wealthy Chicago medicine manufacturer, Nina Van Zandt was a graduate of Vassar and the heiress to a small fortune. Like many other ladies, she had been a curious spectator at the trial of the century, but unlike the others, she had gradually become convinced of the defendants' innocence. Driven by a feeling of horror that these men would die on the gallows, she plunged into defense work. After visiting all the prisoners, she turned her attentions mainly to Spies, and by December she had fallen in love with him. Though they spoke through iron bars and wire mesh, it was clear to observers that the couple had romantic feelings for each other. The jailers made no attempt to interfere, but after the installation of a new sheriff named Canute Matson, a tough disciplinarian of Norwegian origin, Nina's visits were drastically curtailed.36\n\nIn their next conversation the couple devised a bold plan. Because wives were allowed more visiting time than friends, Spies and Van Zandt decided they should be married. When their plans for a wedding on death row leaked out, the newspaper editors went wild with rage. Nina was suddenly the subject of unending abuse and ridicule. There would have been little comment, Van Zandt recalled, if she had been some \"obscure, foreign girl,\" but she was regarded as an American lady of privilege and standing, so lowering herself by agreeing to marry a condemned criminal seemed to the press like something akin to prostitution.37\n\nThe defense attorneys, Black and Swett, were beside themselves with distress over Spies's romantic intentions, which they feared would damage their chances for appeal; but they could not persuade him to alter his course. The lawyers were relieved when the sheriff refused to allow the marriage to take place in the jail. Yet the sensational affair did not fade from the news; it reappeared on January 29, 1887, when Henry Spies repeated the marriage vows on his brother's behalf and Nina Van Zandt responded for herself, promising to love, honor and obey the most notorious man in America. A few days later a gang attacked the Van Zandt home, and the sheriff barred Nina from visiting her newlywed husband at all.38\n\n_Nina Van Zandt_\n\nWhile the newspapers still buzzed with talk of the jailhouse love affair, Black and Swett began their arguments before the Illinois Supreme Court. The captain was confident of a reversal of the judgment because, even though the press remained adamantly supportive of the verdict, public opinion seemed to be shifting. At about this time, Black learned from Eleanor Marx and her husband that most of the working-class people the English socialists met on a multicity tour that winter believed the anarchists' trial to be a miscarriage of justice. Lucy Parsons reported similar responses while on the road for many weeks following the October sentencing. By March she had addressed fifty audiences in sixteen states, generating sympathy for the defendants and raising money for their defense. She was arrested in Columbus and Akron but pressed on with her solo campaign to seek support from various segments of the population.39\n\nCaptain Black's assurance of winning a new trial was based not on public opinion, however, but on his certainty that the appeal he drafted revealed that a legal travesty had occurred in Judge Gary's courtroom. When he appeared before the supreme court justices, a half-dozen elderly men, the attorney argued that no conspiracy to commit murder had been proven and that the anarchists had been convicted entirely for their beliefs.40\n\nAttorney Swett chose a different approach. Speaking as a pioneer Illinois Republican and a close associate of Lincoln, the counselor appealed to those experiences he shared with the justices. He recalled the history of the party's formation, when its radical leaders denounced the Constitution, established the Underground Railroad and conspired to act against the laws of the United States by aiding and abetting the escape of slaves. The storm finally peaked, he added, when John Brown violated the laws of Virginia. Swett then applied this history lesson to the anarchist case, arguing that all the Republicans who gave such subversive antislavery speeches and \"believed in the utopian idea of a change in society for the benefit of a class\" were criminal conspirators with John Brown and, therefore, by this logic ought to have been hanged as well.41\n\nAfter the plea had been argued before the supreme court, the city turned its attention away from the case to the exciting municipal elections taking place in April. Electoral politics, like most aspects of public life in Chicago, had been deeply affected by the anarchist trial. The new United Labor Party had made a surprising showing in the November elections, winning 26 percent of the vote across the city and much more in immigrant working-class wards. In the town of Lake, where eight-hour strikers in the stockyards had faced an occupying army of Pinkertons, sheriff's deputies and National Guard troops, the insurgent vote was even higher. From his cell in the county jail, Albert Parsons had claimed that every vote cast for the labor ticket in Chicago was a protest against the verdict in his trial.42\n\nAs the spring election neared, the socialists, anarchists and other labor activists cheered when Mayor Harrison refused to accept a fifth nomination as a Democratic candidate for mayor of Chicago; instead, he endorsed the Labor Party ticket headed by a socialist worker and supported by various factions of the union movement, including the anarchist-led organizations. Harrison's action was quickly forgotten when panic-stricken Democratic Party leaders endorsed the Republican mayoral candidate and joined forces with their old rivals against the threat posed by a third party with radical leadership. The United Labor Party candidates campaigned against \"Black Jack\" Bonfield and promised to remove him as police inspector if they won. The Republicans responded by charging that the new party was a stalking horse for the anarchists, who wanted to abolish the police department and create a state of anarchy. On election day, April 5, the _Tribune_ told its readers: \"Ballots should be cast for law and order as against anarchy and incompetency.\"43\n\nThe law-and-order coalition played effectively on the public's fear of urban disorder, a feeling that remained palpable nearly a year after Haymarket. As a result, the Republican mayoral candidate, John A. Roche, swept to victory and the Labor Party failed to increase its vote. Inspector Bonfield told the press there \"wasn't a prouder man in Chicago\" that night than he, for the election represented a vindication of his course of action and a rejection of those who wanted to drive him from the city. When Albert Parsons heard the news in Cell 29, the _Tribune_ 's reporter wrote that he raged over the results like a lunatic and let loose \"a string of oaths that would have captured a Democratic convention.\" From the day of his surrender, Parsons was sure the state was going to kill him, but he hoped that his trial and ordeal would at least revive the radical workers' movement he had led for a decade; now he felt frustrated enough to bark at a reporter, \"The fools are as plentiful as ever.\"44\n\nSpies, Schwab and Neebe were also visibly upset, but they made no comment to the press. Sam Fielden chose to speak to reporters and told them he was downcast after the election. \"I feel very bad about it,\" he told one newsman. \"Prejudice has been worked up by the press to such an extent during the campaign that popular feeling is now almost as bad as it was after the 4th of May, and this cannot but have a bad effect on the Judges of the Supreme Court.\" He no longer held out much hope that he would receive a new trial. \"We were convicted in consequence of public clamor,\" Fielden said with his usual bluntness, \"and we may hang from the same cause.\"45\nChapter Fifteen\n\n _The Law Is Vindicated_\n\nAPRIL 3, 1887\u2013NOVEMBER 11, 1887\n\nSAM FIELDEN READ the signs of the time correctly. His fate and that of his comrades was linked to that of the labor movement, as it had been since he arrived in Chicago. The United Labor Party disintegrated over the summer months of 1887, and the once-powerful Knights lost most of their remaining members. Chicago union members who had gained shorter hours in May 1886 now faced employers determined to stretch them out again. The building trades unions beat back contractors attempting to return to the ten-hour day in the spring, but the strikers were isolated now, no longer involved in a mass mobilization like the Great Upheaval that shook the city a year before. The Haymarket bomb, the _Tribune_ reported with relief, had shattered the Internationals' attempt to build a unified movement of the skilled and unskilled through a general strike.1\n\nEqually distressing to the anarchists, and to other trade unionists, was the news that, on the first anniversary of Haymarket, the Illinois House of Representatives had enacted a statute providing that anyone who spoke to any assembly in public or private or who wrote, printed or published any words that \"incited local revolution\" or the \"destruction of the existing order\" could be found guilty of criminal conspiracy; and that, further, if a life was taken as a result of such speeches and writings, the person accused should be considered a principal in the perpetration of said murder.2 In other words, the unprecedented interpretation of conspiracy doctrine in the anarchist case had now been written into state law. This meant that the six state supreme court justices now reviewing the case would, if they ordered a new trial, not only have to discredit a prosecutor, a judge and a jury regarded as heroes in Illinois; they would also have to contradict the state's new conspiracy law.\n\nNonetheless, Captain Black remained hopeful that the errors in the Haymarket murder trial would compel the justices to agree with his objections. Other Chicago lawyers agreed, men like Samuel P. McConnell and his father-in-law, John G. Rogers, the chief justice of the circuit court. Both men were critical of Judge Gary's conduct and of his rulings. McConnell thought the presiding judge had treated the whole Haymarket trial like a holiday event, as had the well-dressed women he invited to sit on the bench with him. Judge Rogers believed Gary had made new law and ignored established rules about jury selection that were intended to assure fair trials. As a result, the two men were as shocked as Captain Black was when, after six months of deliberation, the Illinois Supreme Court rejected the writ of appeal and affirmed the August verdict of the Chicago court. On September 13 the chief justice read the court's ruling to an expectant throng. Before he had even finished, reporters raced each other to telegraph offices to transmit the news that the death sentence would be carried out on November 11, 1887.3 For the next two months the fate of the anarchists in the Cook County Jail captured the attention of the daily newspapers and the nation's leading magazines.\n\nWhen Sheriff Canute Matson received the execution order, he doubled the guard around the Cook County Jail and ordered his deputies to escort Oscar Neebe to Joliet State Prison, where he would serve his fifteen-year sentence at hard labor. The prisoner was spirited away in the dead of night with no chance to bid his comrades farewell, but somehow he talked to a reporter during his passage. Neebe repeated that his only crimes were organizing brewers and salesclerks and publishing a workers' paper. \"What I have done, I would do again,\" he told the _Daily News,_ \"and the time will come when the blood of the martyrs about to be sacrificed will cry aloud for vengeance, and that cry will be heard . . . before many years elapse.\" 4\n\nOrganized labor responded immediately to the news from Illinois as union groups met in many cities to decry the supreme court justices' decision. In New York City prominent leaders of the Central Labor Union, led by Samuel Gompers, declared that the convicted workingmen were victims of \"the misguiding and corrupting influence of prejudice and class hatred\" and had been condemned to death without any conclusive evidence. The execution of the death sentence would, the labor chiefs declared, be nothing less than a \"judicial murder prompted by the basest and most un-American motives.\"5\n\nCaptain Black denounced the supreme court's ruling as infamous, because it meant that nothing now prevented a citizen from being arrested, tried, convicted and executed for simply speaking as an anarchist. While the lawyers prepared to make a new appeal to the U.S. Supreme Court, George Schilling and others on the defense committee created the Amnesty Association that they hoped would enlist a wide range of citizens in a petition drive asking Governor Oglesby to grant clemency. Robert Ingersoll signed on, saying there was hope because the governor was a courageous man with a good heart and noble instincts, even though he might be swayed by the general feeling among the upper classes in favor of the death penalty.6\n\n_Magazine cover of Cook County Jail cells at visiting time, with inset portraits of_ _Nina Van Zandt and August Spies_\n\nAlbert Parsons took his own case directly to fellow citizens in a public letter written on September 21. Commenting on the effort to prevent his \"judicial murder\" by seeking a commutation of the sentence to life imprisonment, he wrote: \"Knowing myself innocent of crime I came forward and gave myself up for trial. I felt it was my duty to take my chances with the rest of my comrades,\" rather than \"being hunted like a felon.\" Since surrendering, he continued, \"I have been locked up in close confinement for twenty-one hours out of every twenty four . . . in a noisome cell, without a ray of sunlight or breath of pure air.\" He did not want to bear this for even a few more years and said he was prepared to die rather than plead for a life behind bars. And then with a flourish, he wrote: \"No. I am not guilty. I have not been proven guilty. I cannot, therefore, accept a commutation to imprisonment. I appeal\u2014not for mercy, but for justice.\" He ended by quoting his favorite revolutionary, Patrick Henry: \"I know not what course others may take, but, as for me, give me liberty or give me death.\"7\n\nParsons's letter was reprinted in many labor newspapers whose editors regarded it as a heroic demonstration of courageous manhood; it even appeared in some mainstream dailies. The bold declaration enhanced Parsons's celebrity and convinced many readers of his innocence, but it caused dismay among leaders of the Amnesty Association. The clemency campaign proceeded, nonetheless, under the determined leadership of Parsons's old friend George Schilling, who held out hope he could change the convict's mind about pleading for his life. The tireless labor activist was assisted in this effort by Dr. William Salter and Henry Demarest Lloyd, two of the city's leading intellectuals, men who dared to risk public condemnation as a result.\n\nWilliam Salter had been educated in the best divinity schools, but he then turned to secular free thought and became a lecturer for the Ethical Culture Society. An open-minded person, he even accepted invitations from the International's American Group to debates about socialism. He had been one of the first citizens outside the International who came to the defense of the accused anarchists during the frightening days after May 4, 1886. When the verdict was rendered that August, Salter threw himself into defense work. After bravely venturing out to lecture against the death sentence at the Opera House, he endured a steady stream of condemnation, even from members of his own society.8\n\nHenry Demarest Lloyd, who joined Salter in speaking for the defense effort, suffered even more tangibly. When he condemned the trial in a public forum, his powerful father-in-law, William \"Deacon\" Bross, an owner of the _Chicago Tribune,_ denounced Lloyd and removed him as an heir to his fortune. Henry and his wife, Jessie Bross Lloyd, were drummed out of polite society and shunned in public arenas. Even an old friend gave him a \"look of the most intense hatred possible from one human being to another.\" Yet Lloyd did not shrink from the commitment he made to advocate for the men he believed were unfairly tried and unjustly condemned. Indeed, the writer seethed over the conduct of the trial in which Judge Gary acted like a prosecuting attorney, over the behavior of the police who set a precedent of arresting citizens without warrant and over the conduct of a jury that condemned men to death for being outspoken protest leaders. 9\n\nLloyd also knew that the anarchists were deeply involved in the eight-hour movement, a cause in which he placed great hope, and that his old enemies, Chicago's barons of banking, trading and manufacturing, were using the bombing to discredit the entire labor movement. The Haymarket tragedy was a transforming event in Henry Lloyd's life, propelling him into an alliance with the American labor movement and into a brilliant phase of his career as the most influential worker advocate and business critic of the early progressive era.10\n\nUnder his leadership, the Amnesty Association hoped to attract more support from the middle-class public, but at first the responses came mainly in the form of resolutions from labor unions and cash contributions from workers in many cities across the country, particularly from immigrant unionists in Chicago who were kept constantly informed by a revived radical press comprised of the _Arbeiter-Zeitung,_ which had reopened under new management, Bert Stewart's _Knights of Labor_ and Joseph Buchanan's _Labor Enquirer,_ a popular radical newspaper the editor had produced in Denver until the Haymarket trial compelled him to move to Chicago and publish there. Buchanan was a major player in the national affairs of the Knights of Labor and one of Powderly's main adversaries. A legendary organizer with anarchist sympathies of his own and an editorial voice that had national resonance, Buchanan led the way in making the anarchist case a cause c\u00e9l\u00e8bre in the national labor movement during the summer of 1887.\n\nMeanwhile, in New York City, John Swinton, the most influential labor journalist in the land, attacked the death sentence as a judicial murder intended to \"gratify the frightened bourgeoisie.\" He then joined with fourteen union leaders representing various wings of the city's union movement to condemn the verdict and to call for a mass protest on October 20. That night, a large crowd jammed into the Great Hall of Cooper Union in New York City to hear Samuel Gompers, the new president of the American Federation of Labor, denounce the proceedings in Chicago. Unlike Powderly of the Knights, who refused to endorse the campaign for clemency, Gompers joined the venerable Swinton and other trade union leaders in making an appeal for liberty, free speech and justice, expressing their belief that the impending execution would be \"a disgrace to the honor of this country.\" 11\n\nThat same month, trade unionists and reformers in London spoke out against the executions; they were primed by the editorials that appeared in _Commonweal,_ the socialist publication edited by William Morris, the noted poet and designer who worried that, after rioting by unemployed marchers, Scotland Yard would adopt the repressive tactics of the Chicago police, who \"hunted socialists like wolves.\" 12 Other European socialist newspapers also devoted an enormous amount of coverage to the Haymarket affair, far more than to any other news story in the post\u2013Civil War era.\n\n_Samuel Gompers (left) and John Swinton_\n\nAlthough socialist leaders in Europe regarded anarchists as dangerous provocateurs at best, they embraced the Haymarket defendants as heroic social revolutionaries and gave their hard-hitting attacks on American freedom wide circulation. At a time when most Europeans regarded the United States as a promised land, a \"new Caanan,\" the repressive red scare in May of 1886, along with the Chicago trial and the shocking death sentences that followed, proved, at least in the minds of radicals, that the same class struggle they observed on their continent was going on across the Atlantic. Coming in the same year as the French government's gift of the Statue of Liberty to the United States, the Haymarket events gave European radicals an unprecedented opportunity to challenge the popular view that the United States was an exceptional country, open, free and democratic.13\n\nCoverage of the trial and the appeal hearings was especially extensive in Paris, a city with an active anarchist movement (though it was tiny compared to the International in Chicago). When word of the failed appeal to the Illinois Supreme Court reached France, the socialist newspaper _Le Cri du Peuple_ announced a protest against what would be the most atrocious political crime since the hanging of John Brown. Public concern reached all the way to the municipal council of the Seine, whose deputies issued a plea for mercy to the U.S. legation, recalling the clemency that had been extended to the \"vanquished leaders of the Southern rebellion.\" Many of the same deputies also signed a clemency petition to Governor Oglesby. In October radicals called Haymarket protest meetings in London, The Hague and Rotterdam, in Vienna, Brussels, Lyon, Marseilles and Toulon. It was no wonder, then, that the _Tribune_ observed on October 11 that \"[t]he eyes of the world seem to be on the Chicago anarchists.\"14\n\nON OCTOBER 27 the U.S. Supreme Court heard the appeal prepared by Captain Black with the assistance of three nationally known attorneys, including former army general Benjamin F. Butler, loved by workingmen in the North for his labor radicalism and hated in the white South for his ruthless military rule of New Orleans during and after the Civil War. The attorneys argued that the police and prosecution had violated constitutional amendments that protected citizens from unlawful searches (the Fourth), against self-incrimination (the Fifth) and against being tried by a biased jury (the Sixth).15\n\nDefense lawyers also argued that the trial violated the due process clause of the Fourteenth Amendment. General Ben Butler proposed to the Supreme Court justices that the Bill of Rights and other constitutional amendments should govern state court cases, because they were the law of the land. \"Any other meaning given to 'due process law' \" would, he declared, make the Fourteenth Amendment \"simply ridiculous and frivolous.\" But the old radical seemed resigned to defeat, concluding his Supreme Court presentation with the kind of histrionic remark that made him famous. \"If men's lives can be taken in this way,\" Butler declared, referring to the Chicago trial and verdict, \"better anarchy, better to be without law, than with any such law.\"16\n\nOn November 2, 1887, Chief Justice Morrison R. Waite read a unanimous decision of the court. The justices concluded that the constitutional violations cited by the appellants were relevant only in federal cases and, therefore, that the Supreme Court lacked jurisdiction because the case touched upon no federal law or national issue. In any case, the judges noted, \"the defendants had not been deprived of a trial by a fair and impartial jury and had not been denied due process of law.\"17\n\nAt this point, the defense movement directed all its efforts to the governor's office in Springfield, hoping Richard Oglesby would commute the sentences of the seven condemned men to life imprisonment. Knowing the law required the convicts to write statements of contrition, defense lawyers, family members and other supporters persuaded Fielden, Schwab and Spies to write to the governor conveying their regret over the violence of May 4 and repudiating their own statements calling for the use of force. Spies was very reluctant to write such a letter, and when he did, he insisted on adding a statement that he deplored all violence, not only the loss of life in the Haymarket but also the violence suffered by strikers in East St. Louis, at McCormick's and in the Chicago stockyards. All three prisoners wrote that they had never advocated the use of force, except in the case of self-defense, and had \"never consciously broken any laws.\" However, urgent efforts failed to move Engel, Fischer and Lingg to write letters of appeal. The three intransigents did write to Oglesby, but to demand liberation, not a commutation of their death sentences. Captain Black said of their letters, \"They are manly and courageous, but I regret the men felt called upon to write them.\"18\n\nAlbert Parsons also refused to change his mind and beg for clemency, even in the face of imploring visits from close friends and luminaries such as Henry D. Lloyd. Melville E. Stone, the publisher of the _Chicago_ _Daily News,_ also made a plea. Stone talked with the condemned man for two hours, but to no avail. As he prepared to leave, Parsons said that he told the publisher, who had initially taken the lead in urging State's Attorney Grinnell to try the eight anarchists for murder, even though no bomb thrower could be brought to trial: \"You are responsible for my fate. Your venomous attacks condemned us in advance. I shall die with less fear and less regret than you will feel in living, for my blood is upon your head.\"19\n\nEven longtime friend and admirer George Schilling could not sway Parsons from his stance; nor could a letter from his revered older brother, General William Parsons; nor could passionate pleas and compelling arguments from Captain Black, who explained to his stubborn client that leading men in Illinois now wanted his sentence commuted. Because of Parsons's courageous surrender, many now believed the governor would grant him a reprieve if he would only comply with the state law that required a written petition for clemency from the condemned prisoner. Parsons heard him out but refused to renounce his beliefs. \"I am an innocent man,\" he told Black, \"and the world knows I am innocent. If I am to be executed at all it is because I am an Anarchist not because I am a murderer; it is because of what I have taught and spoken and written in the past, and not because of the throwing of the Haymarket bomb.\"20 Having accepted and then embraced his fate as a martyr, Albert Parsons was now staking out his place in history.\n\nWhile these intense conversations took place in Cell 29, the flow of petitions that poured into the Amnesty Association included more and more signatures from prominent citizens, including the banker and civic leader Lyman Gage and the head of the Chicago bar, William C. Goudy. Attorney Samuel P. McConnell then took the petitions to judges and lawyers, and several of them added their names; this reportedly left Judge Gary \"very much aggrieved.\" When McConnell approached the esteemed Lyman Trumbull, a former U.S. senator and state supreme court justice, the old man carefully read the petition, then buried his face in his hands and said, \"I will sign. Those men did not have a fair trial.\" Trumbull was the most prominent political figure to lend his name to the plea.\n\n_George Schilling (left) and Henry Demarest Lloyd_\n\nSome pleas came from entire companies, such as one endorsed by 125 editors and reporters of the _Boston Globe._ Chicago druggists drafted their own appeal, as did two Jewish leaders, Rabbi Emil Hirsch and the attorney Julius Rosenthal. The Amnesty Association also set up tables outside City Hall where pedestrians could stop and affix their names to its petition for commutation; nearly 7,000 citizens did so on the weekend of November 5 and 6.21\n\nMuch of this public support for clemency was generated by the critical literature on the case produced to counter the uniform praise the prosecution had received in the daily press. General Matthew M. Trumbull wrote a widely distributed pamphlet called _Was It a Fair Trial?_ The author, unrelated to the famous Republican senator with the same surname, had earned a distinguished reputation as a Union army officer and a respected Chicago attorney. The general had been a Chartist in England and an abolitionist in America, but he could not be accused of sympathy with the anarchists. Even so, after reviewing the case, the attorney bluntly stated that \"the trial was unfair, the rulings of the court illegal, and the sentence unjust.\"22 Far more influential inside and outside the city was Dyer D. Lum's _Concise History of the Great Trial of the_ _Chicago Anarchists,_ in which the author, a highly skilled writer, dissected the trial proceedings after studying the court transcript and highlighted what he saw as the inconsistencies and contradictions in the prosecution's case. Lum's pamphlet helped convince the nation's most prominent writer to join the movement for clemency.\n\nWilliam Dean Howells, the son of an abolitionist printer and an admirer of Abraham Lincoln, had reached literary heights by 1886, when he earned a princely sum of $13,000 a year as a columnist for _Harper's_ _Weekly._ The former editor of the prestigious _Atlantic Monthly,_ Howells was the \"high priest of the genteel tradition\" in literature and the author of popular novels like _The Rise of Silas Lapham,_ a highly praised satire of the _nouveaux riches._ The nation's most noted author became deeply concerned with the case as it went up to the U.S. Supreme Court. When the justices rejected the appeal, Howells sent a letter to the _New York_ _Tribune_ explaining why he had joined in the appeal for clemency. The High Court had dismissed the case on formalities, he explained, but it had not ruled on \"the propriety of trying for murder men fairly indictable for conspiracy alone\"; it had not \"approved the principle of punishing men for their frantic opinions, for a crime they were not shown to have committed,\" and it had not even considered the justice of the death sentence imposed on the men. This last question, wrote Howells, remained for history to judge, and he had no doubt about what the judgment of history would be.23\n\nHowells's letter startled people who respected him as the dean of American letters. For speaking out on the Haymarket case, for what his biographer called a \"lonely act of courage,\" the writer would endure a heavy stream of abuse. It was a time, Howells recalled in a letter to Mark Twain, that the public was betrayed by its press, and \"no man could safely make himself heard\" on behalf of strikers, let alone condemned anarchists. 24\n\nNo other American of comparable stature came forward to appeal for clemency. Indeed, during the whole appeal campaign, an even stronger wave of reaction set in so that Governor Oglesby received more death-to-the-anarchists letters than he did clemency appeals. Even the most influential radical writer and political leader of the time, Henry George, turned down a request to join the clemency effort. Reversing his earlier position as a critic of the trial, George now proclaimed that the conspiracy case had been proved beyond a doubt and that an appeal for clemency was groundless.25 This turnabout was probably motivated by George's political ambitions. He had nearly been elected mayor of New York City as a radical in the spring of 1886, when he spoiled the chances of an ambitious young Republican office-seeker named Theodore Roosevelt.\n\n_Portrait of William Dean Howells on the cover of_ Harper's Weekly, _June 19, 1886_\n\nThe following summer, while George campaigned for state office in New York, Roosevelt attacked his old rival for favoring clemency and insisted that it was in the interest of all Americans that the \"Chicago dynamiters\" be hanged. Henry George not only lost the election in November 1887; he also lost his reputation as a champion of workers when labor leaders branded him a turncoat.26\n\nBY NOVEMBER 7 an estimated 100,000 American citizens had signed the clemency petition. In addition, Oglesby had received numerous messages from Europeans who had reacted with indignation and horror when the Supreme Court refused to overturn the convictions, notably a telegram from London including the names of renowned artists and writers such as William Morris, Annie Besant, Oscar Wilde, George Bernard Shaw, Walter Crane, William Rossetti, Eleanor Marx and Friedrich Engels. The gloom that came over the amnesty movement after the U.S. Supreme Court decision was dispelled by this response and by the support of prominent Chicago citizens such as Lyman Gage. 27\n\nWhen Gage learned from Springfield that the governor would commute the sentences of at least four defendants if the most influential men in Chicago asked him to do so, the banker quickly organized a gathering of fifty of the city's most powerful financiers, merchants and industrialists. Henry Demarest Lloyd was asked to represent the Amnesty Association. Gage opened the meeting by bluntly stating the question at hand to his fellow businessmen: Should they see the convicts \"choked\" or should they ask the governor to show leniency? He then made a well-prepared case for clemency, arguing that the law had been vindicated by the highest courts and need not be reaffirmed by executing the men. In any case, the anarchists were more dangerous as martyrs than as \"hostages\" the state could hold against further anarchist threats. Even Joe Medill, whose _Tribune_ had tried and sentenced the anarchists the day after the bomb exploded, now wrote to the governor that commutation was the best course, so that \"no martyrs will be made.\" Finally, Gage drew upon his unusual understanding of the city's labor movement, explaining that since working people generally believed the capitalists wanted the anarchists executed, a request for clemency would be seen as a generous act that would relieve some of the class hatred poisoning city life.\n\nGage's arguments seemed to be well received by the businessmen gathered at his bank, particularly by some of the industrialists in the room who would have welcomed a relaxation of the tense relations they endured with their workers. But before a decision was reached, the most powerful businessman in the city, Marshall Field, intervened. He made his own opposition to clemency clear and then, unexpectedly, turned the floor over to a guest he had invited to the meeting. State's Attorney Julius Grinnell rose and held forth at great length. He reiterated his closing arguments to the jury in the Haymarket case and concluded by saying that, since law and order hung in the balance in this case, the death penalty must be imposed.28 Grinnell's powerful speech won hearty applause and the mood of the meeting shifted. No clemency appeal would be made by the city's leading men. The anarchists would choke.\n\nHenry Lloyd left the meeting dismayed but not devastated. After all, the leaders of the amnesty movement expected no mercy from men like Marshall Field, Philip Armour and Cyrus McCormick, Jr. They were counting instead upon increasing the tide of popular sentiment in favor of saving the anarchists' lives. And that tide was running stronger than ever as petitions of all kinds continued to pour into the Amnesty Association offices. Chief Inspector Bonfield told the press he was disgusted that so many cowardly citizens signed these appeals, and he now feared that none of the men would hang.29\n\nThe organizers of the mercy campaign held out the hope that Governor Richard Oglesby would find a way to stay the executions of the unrepentant anarchists. These expectations were not unreasonable, said Medill of the _Tribune,_ because the governor was a \"humane and sympathetic man averse to the shedding of blood,\" a man who had shown himself more than once to be \"the warm friend of the working class.\" Oglesby was also one of the last Lincoln men in public life, one of the last Radical Republicans holding major office. Moreover, it was rumored that Oglesby was troubled by the conspiracy case made against the anarchists. When he came to Chicago to dedicate Augustus Saint-Gaudens's impressive statue of the martyred president in Lincoln Park, the governor told one amnesty supporter, \"If that had been the law during the anti-slavery agitation all of us abolitionists would have been hanged a long time ago.\"30\n\nAs all eyes turned to Oglesby, a stunning incident occurred that dashed the petitioners' hopes: four bombs were discovered in Louis Lingg's jail cell. The news of this shocking discovery spread far and wide on November 7, when Sheriff Matson shouted to reporters, \"Merciful God! We have been on the brink of a volcano!\" The bombs were quite small, but their sheer presence inside a county jail was what counted. \"What a revolution in public opinion this will produce,\" the sheriff exclaimed. Indeed, the discovery immediately put the clemency campaign in jeopardy. Everyone sympathetic to the anarchists assumed the police had placed the bombs under Lingg's bed, but no proof could be found that they were planted there or that they had been sneaked in with the food and gifts prisoners received through the bars. In any case, the shocking news discouraged the leaders of the defense. The _Tribune_ 's headline on November 8 said it all: COMMUTATION UNLIKELY. FINDING BOMBS IN LINGG'S CELL CHANGES CASE.31\n\nNevertheless, a large party of Chicagoans assembled at Union Depot the next evening to head for Springfield to plead the anarchists' case before the governor. \"It was a heterogeneous committee,\" according to one reporter, consisting of men and women of many backgrounds. Captain and Mrs. Black were present, along with Attorney Salomon and General Trumbull and Amnesty Association leaders Dr. Salter and Samuel McConnell. A large labor delegation led by George Schilling included many Knights and Federation leaders who opposed the anarchists, as well as Germans of the Central Labor Union who called them brothers. The senior member of the trade union contingent, the battle-worn A. C. Cameron, was also there. The Scotsman had seen the whole pageant unfold, beginning in the years after the Civil War, when he inspired the first eight-hour movement and engineered the first eight-hour law in the land, only to see it defied by employers on May 1, 1867. Now, after the hopes of a second May Day movement had been crushed, it had come to this\u2014a desperate plea for the lives of four workers driven to extremes by two decades of struggle and defeat. Several wives of the defendants, as well as Spies's mother, sister and two brothers, also boarded the train. Even Chicago's famous spiritualist, Cora Richmond, joined the traveling party. In the same article that reported the delegation's departure, the _Tribune_ pointed out that the carpenters would begin work on the scaffold outside the jail that night.32\n\nGovernor Oglesby was overwhelmed by his task of reviewing the 8,000-page record of the trial as well as the hundreds of letters and telegrams that arrived every day from all points. On November 9 alone he received 500 messages, half of them for commutation and half of them for execution. For example, the Republican editor of Chicago's leading German daily, _Staats-Zeitung,_ wrote a letter that concluded with the comment that the only good anarchist was a dead one. The _Tribune_ editorialized sympathetically on Oglesby's dilemma, saying no other amnesty campaign had ever subjected a governor to such an ordeal.33\n\n_Governor Richard J. Oglesby_\n\nOn November 9, the delegation of appellants had swollen to nearly 300 with the arrival of a large contingent from New York City and smaller ones from Detroit and Quincy, Illinois. At 9:30 a.m., with everyone seated in the statehouse and the press gallery filled, Captain Black opened with a legal address. The governor listened judiciously, giving no sign of his feelings. General Trumbull spoke next and appealed to Oglesby \"as an old soldier, who has fought with you on the battlefields of the Republic.\" Then Cora Richmond, speaking for the Amnesty Association, invoked the forgiving spirit of the \"martyred Abraham Lincoln.\" Both petitioners knew, of course, that the governor had been at Lincoln's bedside as he lay dying, that he had been on the funeral train that brought the president's body home to Illinois and that Oglesby was considered \"a high priest _ex-officio_ in the cult of Lincoln\" that flourished in the mid-1880s when several of the late president's associates published affectionate reminiscences. The governor was then presented with an additional petition from the Amnesty Association with 41,000 names of Chicagoans who had signed during the past week, and others from groups in Cleveland, Kansas City and New York City, where 150,000 people signed.34\n\nAfter a short recess, a much larger gathering convened at a nearby hotel, where George Schilling organized a cavalcade of speakers, none more impressive, in the _Tribune_ 's view, than Samuel Gompers of New York City's Central Labor Union and the new American Federation of Labor. A Jewish immigrant of small stature, this cigar maker had in less than two decades mastered English in the American idiom and acquired a sophisticated understanding of U.S. history and politics. Although he differed with the condemned men in theory and in practice, Gompers told the governor that they had nevertheless been \"fighting for labor from different sides of the house.\" These condemned men had been done an injustice and should be saved from the gallows as a matter of principle, but, as usual, Gompers assessed the real politics of the situation as well. \"If these men are executed it would simply be an impetus to this so-called revolutionary movement which no other on earth can give,\" he explained. \"These men would . . . be looked upon as martyrs. Thousands and thousands of labor men all over the world would consider that these men had been executed because they were standing for free speech and free press.\" Therefore, Gompers pleaded with Oglesby to use his power to avoid such a calamity. He concluded by saying that if this country could be great and magnanimous enough to grant amnesty to Jefferson Davis, who had committed treason and led a rebellion against the government that cost countless lives, then surely the State of Illinois could do as much for the anarchists.35\n\nThe governor listened to many other speakers that afternoon and met privately with the overwrought wives and siblings of the defendants; then, after all this, Oglesby responded to a request from the radical editor Joseph Buchanan, who asked for a private meeting. The labor leader requested permission to read letters he carried that had been written by Spies and Parsons. The governor agreed, and behind closed doors Buchanan opened and read Spies's letter first. Spies explained that Engel, Parsons, Fischer and Lingg had not asked for clemency because they could not, in their innocence, accept commutation to a life sentence; and so, they would now die for their stand. Spies hoped to save them with a heroic act of self-sacrifice, saying he was ready to die in their place if it would allow the governor to spare the others. Buchanan, who found the letter difficult to get through, finished by reading these words from Spies: \"In the name of the traditions of this country I beg you to prevent a seven-fold murder upon men whose only crime is that they are idealists. If legal murder there must be, let mine suffice.\" After he finished reading Spies's letter, Buchanan noticed \"a deep look of sorrow\" on the governor's face and \"his eyes were full of tears.\"36\n\nBuchanan then read a letter to the governor from Parsons, which he may have hoped would contain the legally required plea for clemency that Schwab and Fielden had made. Instead, the letter offered a parting shot, an ironic comment on the whole affair. Parsons wrote sarcastically that since his wife and children were also present at the Haymarket the night of the bombing, his own execution should be delayed so that they too could be arrested, tried and executed with him. Hearing this, Oglesby brought his hands to his face and cried, \"Oh my God, this is terrible!\" Buchanan, who knew how bitter Parsons had become, was nonetheless thunderstruck and nearly burst into tears.37\n\nAfter this long emotional day, unprecedented in appeals process history, the delegations headed home, and Oglesby retired to ponder his decision. On the afternoon of November 10, while he deliberated over the case, the governor received the stunning news from Chicago that Louis Lingg had exploded a dynamite cap in his mouth that morning and lay dying in the county jail. Wild speculation circulated through the city that the police had assassinated Lingg. After all, the prisoner had been removed from the others after the jailers discovered bombs in his cell. Who knew what really happened to Lingg? With his face blown apart, the victim could not utter a word of explanation in his last hours. Since the police were certain that one of Lingg's bombs slaughtered their fellow officers on May 4, they certainly had motive to seek revenge against the \"anarchist tiger.\"\n\nHowever, most people, including many anarchists, believed that Lingg desperately wanted to take his own life before the state he hated could do it. But if the police did not assassinate Lingg, how did he kill himself? The mystery of how the prisoner got hold of a cigar with a fulminating cap inside remained unsolved. Later on, a story circulated indicating that the explosive had been passed to him by a comrade, the anarchist Dyer Lum, who said so in a letter that became known after his death. Lum had expressed a deep admiration for his young German comrade as a devoted and fearless anarchist who never allowed himself the false hope of salvation from the death that awaited him. And so Lum would have endorsed the _Tribune_ 's comment that Louis Lingg had \"eluded the disgrace of the hangman's noose and the ignominy of a public execution.\" Fischer, Engel and Parsons told reporters they envied him.38\n\nTwo hours after receiving the shocking news of the explosion in Lingg's cell, Oglesby announced his decision. The governor commuted to life imprisonment the sentences of Fielden and Schwab, who had requested this in writing, and he upheld the death sentences for Parsons, Spies, Fischer and Engel, who had not begged for mercy. After he received the news from the governor, Captain Black sent a doleful telegraph message back to his office in Chicago, where the anarchists' loved ones had gathered together to share their desperate hopes and their worst fears.\n\n_Louis Lingg_\n\nTHE FOUR CONDEMNED MEN on death row in Chicago were not surprised by the governor's decision; they had long expected it and prepared for it. Parsons even chose poems to recite for the occasion, one being John Greenleaf Whittier's \"The Reformer,\" in which the writer proclaimed that whether a man died \"on the gallows high\" or on the battlefield, the noblest place a man could die was a place where he died for his fellow man.39\n\nA few women were allowed to visit the jail on the afternoon of November 10: Engel's daughter Mary, Nina Van Zandt Spies and Adolph Fischer's \"delicate little wife,\" Johanna, now evoked pity from onlookers, according to one reporter. But Lucy Parsons was denied entry to see Albert because she had reportedly acted deranged. Unable to see his loved ones for the last time, Parsons wrote Albert, Jr., and Lulu a letter to be read on the first anniversary of his death. In it, he implored them to love, honor and obey their mother, \"the grandest noblest of women,\" and to read his message each recurring year in \"remembrance of he who dies not alone for you but for the children yet unborn.\"40\n\nAfter the night shift arrived for the death watch, Lingg's body was packed in ice and placed in a coffin. A clergyman made the rounds. The Protestant minister heard no confessions, although Spies freely talked with him about life and death. Then the lamps went down and death row was dark and silent. All remained quiet until midnight, when Parsons began to sing one of his favorite songs, \"Annie Laurie.\" The jailers reported \"there was in his tone a lonesome melancholy\" as he sang the first stanza with the Scottish inflection:\n\n _Max Welton's braes are bonnie,_  \n _Where early fa's the dew,_  \n _And 'twas there that Annie Laurie_  \n _Gave me her promise true,_  \n _Gave me her promise true,_  \n _That ne'er forgot shall be:_  \n _And for Bonnie Annie Laurie_  \nI'd lay me doon and dee.41\n\nIn the second verse, Albert Parsons's voice wavered and broke, the jailers said, and he seemed \"cast down.\" After regaining his composure, he talked with them through the midnight hour. He told them how affected he felt about Spies leaving his new wife a widow and how worried Fischer was about the fate of his young and feeble wife. Parsons told his guards that he rejoiced that the wife he left behind was lionhearted and that his children were too young to \"keenly feel bereavement.\" And then, at about one o'clock, he said to his guards, \"I will sing you a song, one born as a battle cry in France and now accepted as the hymn of revolution the world over.\" As if to give them some encouragement, he sang in a low voice the English words of \"La Marseillaise,\" \"which the guards commended as both inspiring and well performed.\" Parsons slept little the rest of the night. Instead, \"he chatted with the guards on the death watch and furnished them each with his autograph.\" 42\n\nThe next morning at eight o'clock Parsons penned a letter to his friend Dyer Lum. \"The guard has just awakened me. I have washed my face and drank a cup of coffee. The doctor asked me if I wanted stimulants. I said no. The dear boys, Engel, Fischer and Spies, saluted me with firm voices. Well, my dear old comrade, the hour draws near. Caesar kept me awake last night with the noise, the music of the hammer and saw erecting his throne\u2014my scaffold.\" Yet Parsons had learned one good thing from the sheriff: the state would not dispose of his body secretly. Sheriff Matson had assured him that his remains would be sent to Lucy at the home address he gave to his jailers.43\n\nOn the eve of hanging day \"an unbearable anxiety gripped Chicago,\" because citizens believed the execution would provoke an all-out anarchist attack on the courthouse and other targets. Newspaper men arrived from far and wide to file reports from the tension-packed city. When November 11 dawned, hundreds of reporters shivered in the dim morning air waiting to enter the courthouse. \"To the spectacle that on the morning of that 11th of November Chicago presented, there has been no parallel in any American city in the time of peace,\" wrote _New York World_ reporter Charles Edward Russell as he re-created the scene many years later. Ropes extended for one block around the courthouse and all traffic was blocked. \"The jail itself was guarded like a precarious outpost in a critical battle. Around it lines of policemen were drawn; from every window policemen looked forth, rifles in hand; the roof was black with policemen. The display of force was overpowering.\"44\n\nAt six o'clock in the morning the reporters were admitted. They stood in one room, all 200 of them, cooped up while disturbing rumors played on their nerves. One morning extra edition was passed around reporting that the jail had been mined by the anarchists, who had buried great stores of dynamite beneath it, and that, at the moment of the hanging, the whole building would explode. The nervous tension rose to such a pitch that two of the reporters, tried and experienced men, turned sick and faint and had to be assisted to leave the room. \"In all my experience this was the only occasion on which a reporter flinched from duty, however trying; but it is hard now,\" Russell wrote in 1914, \"to understand the tremendous infectional panic that had seized upon the city and had its storm center at that jail.\" 45\n\nNone of the relatives or friends of the four anarchists were allowed to witness the execution that day, so they had bid them goodbye the evening before. Because Lucy Parsons had been denied access to the jail, she set out the morning of the hanging day determined to see Albert one last time. After rising early, she put on a handmade dress of dark cloth and wound a long black veil of crepe around her face and over her hat; and then she hurried downtown with Albert, Jr., and Lulu. At the Amnesty Association office, she met Lizzie Holmes, who accompanied her to the fortified courthouse. Never afraid to confront the police, the women approached the line and asked to be admitted to the jail, but at every point the women and children were told to move on. Boiling with anger and frustration, Lucy screamed, \"Oh, you murderous villains! You forbid me to see my husband, whom you are about to kill and not let him take a last look at his children, whom you are about to make orphans.\" In a rage she told the officers she had no bombs with her but that she could get them and use them if she wanted to. At this she was arrested along with Lizzie and the two children; they were put in a patrol wagon and driven off to Captain Schaack's Chicago Avenue Station, where a matron strip-searched the women and children, looking for weapons and bombs.46\n\nAT THE COURTHOUSE and all around it, huge crowds filled the streets. At 10:55 a.m., 250 newspapermen, the 12 jurymen and other selected witnesses filed quickly through a dark passage under the gallows and into a corridor behind the courthouse. The bailiff begged the reporters not to make a rush out of the corridor when the drop fell, but to wait decently and in order. There they sat for the next hour and waited. As noon approached, their conversations turned to whispers. The witnesses fell silent when, according to one observer, \"the tramp, tramp of men's foot-steps was heard resounding from the central corridor, and the crowd in front of the gallows knew the condemned men had begun the march of death.\" Then all eyes turned toward the screen at the edge of the gallows platform that hid the four anarchists. 47\n\n_\"The Execution\"_\n\nAt this point the news reporters, all seasoned witnesses of public hangings, made notes that would become nearly rhapsodic descriptions of the scene that unfolded after the first man appeared from behind the screen. \"With a steady, unfaltering step a white robed figure stepped out . . . and stood upon the drop. It was August Spies. It was evident that his hands were firmly bound behind him beneath his snowy shroud.\" He walked across the platform to the left side, where he stood under the dangling noose that reached down to his breast. His face, said a _Daily News_ reporter, was very pale, his looks solemn, his expression melancholy, yet \"at the same time dignified.\" He glanced quickly at the noose and then gazed out on the hundreds of faces turned up to him. Fischer and Engel followed him and took their places on the line. Last came Parsons, who straightened himself before the fourth noose and, \"as he did so, turned his big gray eyes upon the crowd below with such a look of awful reproach and sadness as it would not fail to strike the innermost chord of the hardest-heart there,\" wrote one observer. \"It was a look never to be forgotten.\" 48\n\nThe bailiff then fastened leather straps around the ankles of the four men, who all stood straight and remained quiet. Guards first placed a noose around Spies's neck, and when the rope caught on his right ear, he deftly shook his head so that it fell down around his neck. When the bailiff approached Adolph Fischer, \"he threw back his head and bared his long muscular neck by the movement.\" Then he laughingly whispered some words in Spies's ear while Engel \"smiled down at the crowd\" and said something to his guard, \"evidently some word of peace\" that seemed to affect the officer. Parsons, however, looked angrily down at the witnesses.\n\nThe anarchists seemed to be choreographing their own final scene on the stage of life. They certainly planned to make the most of the ritual moment when they could speak their last words from the gallows platform. But the bailiff, perhaps unnerved by their behavior, broke with tradition and immediately started putting shrouds over their heads as if to block their words. In a few moments all four men stood upon the scaffold clad from head to toe in pure white robes. The executioner took up his ax and was poised to cut the cords that would trip all four trapdoors and send the men to their doom. As the hangman paused, awaiting the order, a \"mournful solemn voice sounded\" from the platform. It was Spies speaking from behind his muslin shroud. His words would become his epitaph. \"The time will come,\" he said, \"when our silence will be more powerful than the voices you strangle today.\" Emboldened by this declaration, George Engel shouted in German, \"Hurrah for anarchy!\" and Adolph Fischer proclaimed, \"This is the happiest day of my life.\"\n\nThen Parsons spoke from behind his mask, sounding sadder than the others: \"May I be allowed to speak?\" he beseeched the sheriff. \"Oh, men of America! May I be allowed the privilege of speech even at the last moment? Harken to the voice of the people,\" he was saying when the executioner cut the cord and the trapdoors snapped open with a crash, leaving four men dangling at the ends of ropes.49\n\nThe _Tribune_ 's man on the scene spared nothing in his account of what he saw when the floorboards shot open and the bodies fell 4 feet down. \"The light form of Parsons' body seemed to bound upward\" much more than those of the heavier men and, after a few minutes, his shrouded figure \"settled into almost perfect quiet,\" as did that of Engel. Then, \"all eyes were directed to that of Spies, which was writhing horribly\" as his shoulders twisted, his chest heaved and his legs \"drew up to his chest and straightened out again and again\" as he strangled to death. This scene continued for several minutes as physicians kept checking the pulse of each man. Seven and a half minutes after the bodies fell, the last man alive, Adolph Fischer, was declared dead.\n\nNone of the four men died from a broken neck, the form of death that was supposed to result from a state hanging. Instead, the convicts all strangled to death during what seemed to those present like a terribly long period of agony.50 \"The spectators of the hanging, many of whom were visibly affected by the scene, remained seated even after life had been declared extinct in each dangling figure,\" the _Daily News_ remarked. \"As the white forms hung in startling relief against the dark background of the wall behind the scaffold the sight was more ghastly than at any previous stage of the grim proceedings.\" The spectators remained seated for some time, and the sheriff twice had to tell them to leave. Among the witnesses, the _Tribune_ reported, the general mood seemed to be \"one of pity and regret rather than exultation.\" 51\n\nWhile the coroners placed each body in a pine coffin, Lucy and her children remained behind bars in the Chicago Avenue Station, what she called \"Captain Schaack's Bastille.\" Two hours after the execution, Lucy Parsons was told that her husband was dead and she could leave and take her children home.52\n\nBY THIS TIME, runners had carried word of the deaths to the Western Union telegraph office and to newspaper row. The news was posted on billboards that had been placed all over the city. At the luxurious Palmer House Hotel the city's wealthiest citizens gathered after lunch to read this notice: \"Trap fell. Spies, Parsons, Fischer, and Engle [ _sic_ ] expiate their crime and the law is vindicated.\" One reporter described a palpable feeling of relief among downtown people, because the execution had occurred without a single hand being raised in violent protest.53\n\nThat afternoon the attorney Moses Salomon arrived at the jail with three union representatives to claim the bodies and carry the remains of the men to the undertakers. Barred from witnessing the execution, comrades and friends gathered to escort the five coffins back to the North Side. A large throng of mourners followed the remains of Engel and Lingg to an undertaker's parlor, where a crowd of 1,000 formed waiting to view the bodies. At the home of August Spies's mother a crowd of women and children lined the walk in front, many of them in tears, while at the Parsonses' flat nearby, Lucy was being attended to by other women after she fainted. One observer said that \"the fearless wife of Parsons had been absolutely prostrated by the violence of her emotions\" and that, when she regained consciousness, \"she raved and moaned in a most pitiable manner.\" One of her comrades, Frank Stauber, told the journalist he had seen grief-stricken people before, \"but never in my life have I seen such grief. I am actually afraid the woman is dying.\"54\n\nFriends and relatives, advocates and supporters of the defendants had been preparing themselves for the deaths of the condemned men, but on the afternoon of November 11 they still found themselves uncontrollably distraught over the news. Even those in faraway cities were deeply affected.\n\nFrom Boston, William Dean Howells wrote of his \"helpless feeling of grief and rage\" over the \"civic murder\" committed in Chicago. \"[T]his Republic has killed five men for their opinions,\" he told his father. Howells believed the executions dishonored the nation and the memory of Abraham Lincoln, whose campaign biography Howells had written in 1860. After years of optimistic contentment with the progress of American civilization and belief in \"its ability to come out all right in the end,\" the writer now felt the nation's story was \"coming out all wrong in the end.\" The death of the anarchists in Chicago shattered his faith in the triumph of Lincoln's ideal republic, a republic with malice toward none and charity for all.55\n\nIn New York City many Jewish working people in the tenement houses and clothing shops of the Lower East Side were palpably disturbed by the news that four innocent men, three of them immigrants, had died on the gallows in a land to which these foreigners had come seeking freedom and justice. \"Heartbroken, we walked for days like mourners,\" the Jewish socialist Abraham Cahan recalled. The distress of these immigrant workers deepened, he reported, when they realized how many Americans applauded the verdict and its execution. 56\n\nIn Chicago the defenders were too devastated to speak in public or to put their feelings on paper. Joseph Buchanan later described seeking a quiet refuge from the immense throng that crowded the downtown streets, and waiting in a hotel lobby where a clerk read minute-by-minute accounts from a ticker tape of the death walk, the hoods and nooses being adjusted, the last words uttered. Buchanan watched the long hand on a clock as it moved to the fateful hour of noon; when it struck twelve, he broke down sobbing over an event that would haunt him for the rest of his life. After passing \"a night of horrors\" as he agonized over the impending executions, Sam Gompers spent the afternoon of November 11 meandering through Chicago's streets, utterly depressed by the hangings and his failed efforts to win clemency for those now deceased. Captain William Black's rage over the executions was mixed with a gnawing sense of guilt over Parsons's fate. If he had not called the fugitive to return from Wisconsin and stand trial with the others, he might still be alive. Henry Demarest Lloyd, who was as disturbed as anyone on the defense team, wrote a poem dedicated to Spies and Parsons. That night, as tears flowed, his wife, Jessie, and his children joined Lloyd in singing his elegiac words to the tune of \"Annie Laurie.\"57\n\nNo one was closer to Parsons than George Schilling, who spoke with him in Market Square the night the great uprising began in 1877, campaigned with him as a socialist candidate and joined him in founding the \"old 400\" assembly of the Knights. Schilling quarreled with Parsons over the anarchists' militant demands and violent words, but he loved and admired the charismatic Texan, and no one cared more about saving him and his comrades than Schilling did; no one, outside the families of the condemned men, bore a greater emotional strain during the long ordeal. As a result, Schilling was deeply shaken and thoroughly embittered by the hangings. Two years passed before he could gain some perspective on the event the anarchists would call Black Friday. \"This 11th of November, 1887, has passed into history, and marks the chief tragedy of the closing years of the 19th century,\" he wrote. \"The trial of Parsons, Spies, _et al_ is over and the verdict of the jury executed, but the trial of judgment is still going on.\" 58\nChapter Sixteen\n\n _The Judgment of History_\n\nNOVEMBER 12, 1887\u2013NOVEMBER 11, 1899\n\nSOON AFTER THE EXECUTION order arrived in Chicago, comrades of the condemned men began preparing for a funeral march and burial to take place on Sunday, November 13. Family members and friends planned simple wakes on Saturday for the deceased anarchists at three locations along Milwaukee Avenue; they were unprepared for the public response that came on that morning. At eight o'clock hundreds of people lined up along the street in front of the flat Lucy Parsons had rented on Milwaukee Avenue. All day people filed through the little living room to gaze on Albert Parsons's colorless face with the faint smile the undertaker had put on his lips. At times Lucy burst out of her room, weeping uncontrollably and clinging to Lizzie Holmes for support. By the time William Holmes finally closed the Parsonses' door at 11:30 p.m., 10,000 people had filed through the parlor to pay their last respects. 1\n\nA similar scene unfolded upstairs in the toy shop on Milwaukee Avenue where George Engel's body lay in a parlor next to Louis Lingg's corpse, with its poorly repaired face. During the day and evening 6,000 people viewed the remains. Even larger crowds pressed into Aurora Turner Hall, where August Spies lay in state surrounded by an edgy-looking honor guard of German trade unionists and militiamen.\n\nThe next morning, a clear, cold Sunday, elaborate funeral plans were put in motion, but within the strict limits set by Mayor John A. Roche, who prohibited speeches, songs and banners or \"any demonstration of a public character.\" The bands accompanying the funeral march could play only dirges.\n\nThe procession began at the home of August Spies's mother. His coffin was loaded onto a carriage, which then proceeded down Milwaukee Avenue, stopping at the homes of the other anarchists, where other carriages were loaded with their remains. Then the cortege, carrying five red-draped coffins, rolled away to the sound of several brass bands playing somber tunes; the carriages were followed by a long line of 6,000 people who moved slowly down Milwaukee Avenue to the measured beat of muffled drums.\n\nAlong the parade route the streets and sidewalks were thronged with thousands of men, women and children; others looked out of windows or stood on barrels. Some of them wore red and black ribbons as an expression of sympathy. The funeral procession grew even larger as it left the immigrant North Side and headed downtown to the railroad depot, where mourners would board a long funeral train bound for Waldheim Cemetery, a nondenominational graveyard in the German town of Forest Park. Along the way even thicker crowds, estimated at 200,000 overall, packed the sidewalks to observe the cortege.2\n\nAfter the procession turned off Milwaukee Avenue and headed down Desplaines Street, it passed within a block of the deadly spot where so many had fallen on May 4 of the previous year; it then proceeded east on Lake Street past Zepf's Hall and Grief's Hall, where portraits of the dead anarchists draped in mourning hung on the walls. At this point one of the bands broke the mayor's rule and burst into the melody of \"Annie Laurie\" in Parsons's honor. Another band struck up \"La Marseillaise\" as it passed Grief's Hall. More than two decades later, the reporter Charles Edward Russell vividly recalled the somber scenes of that Sunday funeral procession. The black hearses, the marching thousands and the miles and miles of streets packed with silent mourners\u2014all left him with the impression that death had finally conferred amnesty on the anarchists. 3\n\nChicagoans had never witnessed such a massive public funeral. The crowds exceeded even those that had gathered to march behind Lincoln's coffin on May 1, 1865. Then, however, Chicago's citizens had walked together in common front, unified in their grief. Now, on November 13, 1887, one class of people grieved while another gave thanks for the moral judgment rendered on the gallows, as Chicagoans divided into separate spheres of sentiment determined largely by where they lived and worked and by how well they spoke English.\n\nThe sun was low by the time the procession wended its way into Waldheim Cemetery. After the five caskets had been lowered into the ground, Captain William Black offered a traditional eulogy\u2014one that would be fondly remembered by the dead men's sympathizers and bitterly denounced by their prosecutors. \"They were called Anarchists,\" said Black. \"They were painted and presented to the world as men loving violence, riot and bloodshed for their own sake. Nothing could be further from the truth. They were men who loved peace, men of gentle instincts, men of gracious tenderness of heart, loved by those who knew them, trusted by those who came to know the loyalty and purity of their lives.\" They had lived for a revolution that would create a new society based on cooperation instead of coercion. Black said he did not know if such a society was possible in America, but he did know that through the ages poets, philosophers and Christian believers had lived for the day when righteousness would reign on the earth, and when sin and selfishness would come to an end.4\n\nAS THE NEWS of the executions spread around the world in the weekend newspapers, those who had followed the trial reacted with extreme emotions, even though they had suspected for weeks that the anarchists would die. The defendants had gained widespread admiration in the eyes of European workers and radical intellectuals by maintaining their innocence and refusing to renounce their beliefs, even to save their lives. Their highly publicized hangings seemed to many Europeans to be nothing more than a ferocious attempt by the state to silence the strongest voices of dissent in America.5\n\nIn cities all over the United States and in other nations, workers expressed their rage at what seemed to them a historic atrocity. At a gathering of laborers in Havana, speakers condemned the executioners, and organizers collected $955 to aid the anarchists' family members. In Barcelona, artisans and sailors met in their little _centros_ and lit candles around the images of los m\u00e1rtiri.6 In Boston a large crowd gathered in New Era Hall to hear a mournful address by the secretary of the Knights of Labor, the esteemed George McNeill, who had helped found the first eight-hour movement in 1863. The white-haired philosopher of labor reform told his depressed followers that the hanging of the anarchists in Chicago was the act of desperate, unthinking men and that it would not remedy the evil of social inequity or wash out the stain of anarchy from the nation's political fabric. In Newark, New Jersey, Reverend Hugh O. Pentecost, one of the few clergymen to speak out against the execution, told his congregation that it was \"one of the most unjust and cruel acts ever perpetrated by organized government\u2014immoral and illegal.\"7 And in Rochester, New York, a young Russian clothing worker named Emma Goldman nearly became deranged when she heard news of \"the terrible thing everyone feared, yet hoped would not happen.\" She had learned about the Knights of Labor, the eight-hour day and the Haymarket anarchists from other Russian Jews during her first year in America, 1886. After sewing garments in a factory for ten hours a day, she devoured every word on anarchism she could find and closely followed news of the Haymarket defendants during and after the trial. 8\n\nDevastated by the news at first, the seventeen-year-old immigrant found that the \"martyrs' ordeal\" implanted \"something new and wonderful\" in her soul, \"a determination to dedicate myself to the memory of my martyred comrades, to make known to the world their beautiful lives and heroic death.\" From then on, she would honor November 11, 1887, as the day of her \"spiritual birth.\" After she plunged into the anarchist and labor movements in the next years, Emma Goldman met hundreds of other people whose lives were also changed by the executions on Black Friday.9 For example, there was Abraham Bisno, a cloak maker living in Chicago's Russian-Jewish colony, who knew nothing about the anarchists until he and his fellow strikers were beaten by the police on May 5, the day of the first arrests. In the next days and months he frequently discussed the case with other workers, while studying all the evidence he could find and learning in the process to lecture on social questions and to lead in organizing unions among his people.10\n\nMary Harris Jones, another Chicago resident, also followed the trial closely and attended the funeral. The widowed dressmaker heard the anarchists speak at Knights of Labor assemblies and at lakefront rallies, where she listened to what Parsons and Spies, \"those teachers of the new order, had to say to workers.\" And though she was opposed to their violent message, Jones was deeply affected by their execution and by their immense funeral procession with thousands of wage earners marching behind their hearses, not because they were anarchists but because they were regarded as soldiers who sacrificed their lives in the workers' struggle. Many years later, after Mother Jones gained renown, she recalled that time in Chicago. \"Those were the days of sacrifice for the cause of labor,\" she wrote. \"Those were the days of the martyrs and the saints.\"11\n\nFar away, in a mining camp at Rebel Creek, Nevada, high in the mountains, young Bill Haywood read about the hangings in a Knights of Labor paper. He called it a turning point in his life, a moment when he became entranced with the lives and speeches of Albert Parsons and August Spies. In the years that followed, no one did more to translate the words of Parsons and Spies into action than William D. Haywood did when he became the founder and notorious leader of the Industrial Workers of the World, a twentieth-century manifestation of the \"Chicago idea.\" 12\n\nWhile some young workers like Emma Goldman and Bill Haywood were inspired by the Haymarket martyrs, most trade union leaders, even those who had fought to win clemency for the anarchists, were utterly dismayed by how much damage the anarchist case had caused. Samuel Gompers said the bomb thrown in the Haymarket not only killed policemen, it killed the eight-hour movement and struck at the foundations of the new house of labor he was constructing as head of the new American Federation of Labor. A decade later Gompers and his followers found ways to revive unionism and re-create a more moderate eight-hour campaign, but for Terence Powderly and the Knights of Labor there would be no recovery. Indeed, for visionary workers and labor reformers inspired by the Knights and the Great Upheaval, Haymarket was an unmitigated disaster; it sounded a death knell for the great hopes they shared in the spring of 1886 when they imagined their movement to be on the brink of achieving a new cooperative social order that would replace the wage system.13\n\nA few American intellectuals were radicalized by the events and found themselves pulled closer to the labor movement, though the process was a painful one. H. C. Adams, a young economics professor at Cornell University, was one of the few academics who criticized the Chicago trial. The professor denounced the anarchists as vile madmen who had no understanding of how democracy worked, but he also insisted that even their incendiary speeches needed protection. If freedom of expression was denied to dissenters, he reasoned, even law-abiding protesters might turn to violence. Adams did not stop at this: he even charged that industrialists were using the anarchist hysteria to stigmatize the socially constructive proposals made by the Knights of Labor. The New York newspapers printed sensational accounts of Adams's remarks, and a Cornell benefactor, the wealthy lumber king Henry Sage, demanded the professor's ouster. The university trustees met in secret and agreed that the offensive professor Adams had to go. In the aftermath of Haymarket, even defense of the First Amendment seemed threatening. Dr. Adams took his medicine and decided economists had better not speak out against social injustice.14\n\nAdams's case was one of several indicating that the Haymarket bomb marked a decisive event in the history of American free speech. After the Civil War, freedom of expression was denied to black citizens in the South, but other Americans were often able to express extreme opinions in speeches and writings without interference. This had been the case in Chicago, where Mayor Harrison had allowed the anarchists to make violent speeches on a regular basis. While some latitude prevailed for free speech during the Gilded Age, no one seriously examined the philosophical and political principles that underlay constitutional guarantees of liberty. As a result, legal precedent and tradition counted for little when the Haymarket affair precipitated a sharp turn against toleration for citizens expressing extreme opinions and for those, like Professor H. C. Adams, who defended their right to do so.15\n\nHenry Demarest Lloyd was one of the only prominent journalists to denounce the prosecution of the Haymarket case, and he paid a price for it. Disinherited by his father-in-law, _Tribune_ co-owner William Bross, shut out of the paper for good and ostracized by his friends, Lloyd did not begin writing and speaking again until 1890, when he turned his formidable talents to producing a series of moral attacks on the \"cannibals of competition, tyrants of monopoly, devourers of men, women and children,\" culminating in the publication of his _Wealth Against Commonwealth,_ an expos\u00e9 of John D. Rockefeller's Standard Oil Company, the first influential muckraking effort of the progressive era.16\n\nLloyd's ostracism came at a repressive time in Chicago life. As a result of the red scare, the trial and the hangings, said the Illinois writer Edgar Lee Masters, the city's spiritual and civic life was \"fouled\" as \"Hate and Fear and Revenge stalked about.\" Outspoken journalists and public figures like Lloyd had been silenced; the editors of the big newspapers who celebrated the anarchists' executions had won, but they too were fearful, and walked around the city with armed guards.17\n\nOnly a few clergymen, like Hugh Pentecost in Newark, responded to the events of 1886 and 1887 by criticizing the use of capital punishment and by urging acts of Christian charity and moral reform to address the social evils that bred anarchism. The Great Upheaval of 1886, the bombing and the red scare that followed traumatized many clergymen and churchgoers, especially native Protestants, who saw these events not as a crisis that called for moral reform, but as the opening scene in a doomsday scenario for the American city. The Haymarket affair exacerbated the hostility to organized labor that already existed in Protestant churches, while it also helped to push many middle-class people and their ministers out of the cities and into streetcar suburbs, where they could escape the lava of a social volcano that seemed ready to blow again at any time.18\n\nUNDER THESE CIRCUMSTANCES, Chicago's dissenting voices remained quiet, and public discourse was dominated by those who celebrated the executions of the anarchists and venerated the memory of the police who died in the bombing and the shooting. A lavish history of the Chicago police appeared in 1887, supported by contributions from scores of businesses. The book, written in a vivid style by a _Daily News_ reporter, John J. Flinn, featured heroic sketches of Inspector Bonfield, Captain Schaack and their brave men, along with a narrative of the strikes and riots that culminated in the Haymarket bombing, when the department \"attracted the attention of all Christendom.\"19 George McLean's The Rise and Fall of _Anarchy,_ published in 1888, another handsome volume with lifelike drawings of all the Haymarket participants, offered a comprehensive account of events leading to the bombing and of the trial and executions that followed. The author left no doubt about the moral of the story. After saluting the courageous policemen who fell in defense of American freedom, McLean turned his pen to the \"hideous cruel monsters\" responsible for their \"cold blooded massacre\"\u2014an act of treachery unparalleled in history. 20\n\nA year later came the publication of Captain Michael Schaack's enormous book _Anarchy and Anarchists: A History of the Red Terror and the_ _Social Revolution in America and Europe._ Composed largely by two professional writers, the volume offered a sweeping history of revolutionary activity in Europe beginning with the French Revolution, all of which is seen as prologue to the events in Chicago. The title page, faced by a heroic portrait of Schaack, is followed by extensive documentation of the \"Haymarket conspiracy\" and sensational reports of Schaack's undercover men, along with vivid police photos of bombs, fuses, guns, cartoon-like drawings of anarchists and a moving group portrait of the slain policemen. The seven official \"Haymarket martyrs\" were pictured with an eighth officer who was thought to have died later of wounds he sustained on May 4, 1886. Although the funerals of the dead patrolmen were barely noticed in the press at the time, Schaack's book reminded Americans that these men were \"as worthy as the heroes of a hundred military battles.\"21\n\nSoon after the riot, Joseph Medill, publisher of the _Chicago Tribune,_ started a fund drive to erect a statue in the Haymarket to honor the fallen police officers. Donations came slowly at first, but eventually businessmen's clubs raised enough funds to pay for a statue\u2014a bronze figure of a policeman holding his right hand high. The model was Officer Thomas Birmingham, a statuesque Irish patrolman who had marched into the square that night. The monument was dedicated in somber ceremonies on Memorial Day of 1889, when speakers likened the slain officers to the Civil War heroes who defended the nation against the southern rebels.22\n\nThe police statue in Haymarket Square symbolized more than heroic sacrifice, however. The bronzed officer mounted on its stone base also stood for a victory of the forces of law and order, not simply over anarchists who used public spaces so freely and spoke so defiantly of government, but also over the larger forces of disorder generated by the pitch and roll of an immigrant sea that had flooded urban America. A rough-and-tumble democracy had flourished in many cities since the age of Jackson, and had brought immigrant workingmen, and even some workingwomen, into the streets on various ceremonious and sometimes riotous occasions. Now, after the Great Upheaval and the Haymarket affair, the courts and the police would severely restrict urban workers' use of public spaces as arenas for self-expression and organization. 23\n\n _Police statue in Haymarket Square, 1892_\n\nYet, for all the accolades Chicago's policemen received, they still seemed inadequate to the task of defending the city against what business elites feared would be the next mass insurgency. Marshall Field convinced members of the elite Commercial Club that they needed a U.S. Army fort close to the city, instead of a thousand miles away. While the anarchists awaited their fate in the jailhouse, the club raised money to buy 632 acres of land just thirty miles north of the city; its leaders then persuaded the secretary of the army to construct such a fort on this site. In addition, Field and his associates hired the famous architects Daniel H. Burnham and John W. Root to design and build a massive armory in the city to guard their neighborhoods and businesses. Within a few years the imposing First Regiment Armory at 16th Street and Michigan Avenue rose like a stone monster with a huge open mouth, poised between the downtown business district and the insurgent Southwest Side.24\n\nWhile initiatives by the forces of law and order reassured an anxious bourgeoisie, they also heated up feelings of resentment that bubbled under the surface of plebeian life in Chicago. Labor leaders worried about the construction of military armories and criticized the use of militiamen to break strikes; some even urged their members not to join the National Guard. A gnawing fear spread among trade unionists that the nation's armed forces would be used to protect employers' interests, not to defend workers' liberties. 25\n\nSimmering working-class antipathy to the police also began to reach a boiling point. That sentiment spilled out when Chicago's _Knights of Labor_ newspaper denounced the newly dedicated police statue in the Haymarket for honoring a police department its editor branded \"the most vicious and corrupt the country has ever known.\" The paper was referring not only to the police conduct in the Haymarket affair, but to a scandal that broke in 1889 when Captain Schaack was removed from the Chicago police force as a result of wrongdoing. The case also involved Inspector John Bonfield and two other commanders of the divisions that marched into the Haymarket on May 4. The _Chicago Times_ revealed that the officers had been taking money from saloonkeepers and prostitutes, and had been selling items taken from arrested citizens, including some jewelry Louis Lingg had left to his sweetheart. When Bonfield reacted by arresting the _Times_ 's editors and attempting to shut down the newspaper, the public outcry was enormous. As a result, the mayor was compelled to remove the heroes of Haymarket Square from the police force. A short time later, former superintendent Ebersold revealed that Schaack had \"tried to keep things stirred up\" in May of 1886 and \"wanted to find bombs everywhere.\" He even sent out men to organize fake anarchist groups to keep the pot boiling. It is not clear how Schaack's demise affected the sales of his sensational book, _Anarchy and Anarchists,_ but he retained many admirers in Chicago, including one editor who called his firing a triumph for the anarchists.26\n\nEven though working-class demonstrators lost much of the freedom they had enjoyed to gather in streets and public places after 1886, freedom of the press was suspended only for a brief time. Issues of the anarchist _Alarm_ reappeared during the trial, and the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ resumed publication, although the German daily never regained the mass circulation it had achieved in August Spies's day. In addition, anarchists produced and disseminated printed works memorializing the martyrs, including _The Autobiographies of the Haymarket Martyrs_ and _The_ _Famous Speeches of the Eight Haymarket Anarchists,_ first published in 1886. The following year, Lucy Parsons issued a collection of Albert's prison writings on anarchism, and then in 1889 she edited _The Life of_ _Albert R. Parsons,_ which became a sacred text for the party of remembrance and a conversion experience for many readers unfamiliar with the case. Introduced by George Schilling, the volume was filled with Parsons's speeches and articles, an autobiographical essay and ephemera, most memorably the letters he wrote to his children just before his death and to Schilling recalling his thrilling days as a militant in the battle for black equality in bloody Texas.27 The Life of Albert R. Parsons, along with the anarchists' autobiographies, typified the sort of personal narratives that had exerted a hold on the popular mind throughout the nineteenth century. Such heartfelt stories of tramps and beggars, former slaves and former prisoners and other lost souls, offered truthful, \"unvarnished\" accounts that presented compelling alternatives to official accounts and descriptions of reality.28\n\nThis literature was reproduced and translated to keep the anarchists' memory alive in the minds of workers around the world, but it was also aimed at countering, indeed subverting, the official accounts of the Haymarket story that enjoyed much wider circulation. In these texts the condemned men appeared as martyrs who died for freedom and democracy, while their state prosecutors are seen as relying not upon truth and virtue, but upon deception and intimidation. 29 The autobiographies and speeches of the Chicago anarchists were translated into several languages and reprinted numerous times over the next few decades, when they were interpreted by many readers here and in other lands as stories that confirmed their suspicions that the United States was not a truly free country.30\n\nLucy Parsons and the small company of anarchists who kept this literature in circulation did not, however, rely on the printed word alone. Lucy, for one, took to the road as often as she could in her own relentless and exhausting campaign to exonerate the anarchists and to venerate the life of her husband. She even embarked on a trip after she lost her daughter, Lulu, who died of lymphoma and whose body was placed in an unmarked grave near her father's tomb. She pressed on with her work even though she was criticized by socialists, excoriated by the mainstream press and harassed by the police, especially in Chicago, where the authorities seemed obsessed with the activities of this \"determined negress.\"31\n\nA pariah in her own land, Lucy was treated as a celebrity when she traveled to the British Isles on a speaking tour in 1888. \"The heroic widow\" of Albert Parsons was described by one English socialist as a \"woman of American Indian origin, of striking beauty.\" Having invented a purely native identity for herself, she spoke to a London meeting as \"a genuine American,\" one whose ancestors were indigenous people waiting to repel the invaders when they arrived from Spain. Lucy's violent speeches alienated some socialists, but her tour excited others and created an upsurge of support for anarchism in England.32\n\nWILLIAM MORRIS'S SOCIALIST LEAGUE had prepared the way for the famous Mrs. Parsons by distributing a pamphlet on the anarchist case and printing an edition of _The Autobiographies of the Haymarket Martyrs._ In his London publication _Commonweal,_ Morris had previously reported on the entire trial and appeal process, which he described as a travesty of justice. When news of the executions reached England, he wrote that the Haymarket case exhibited \"the spirit of cold cruelty, heartless and careless at once, which is one of the most noticeable characteristics of American commercialism.\" By contrast, the editors of the London _Times_ had praised the Chicago police and their use of armed force on the streets and suggested British police might well follow their example, and then cheered the death sentence when it was announced.33\n\nOn November 13, 1887, two days after Black Friday, the London city police had attacked a peaceful demonstration of the unemployed in Trafalgar Square with extreme brutality. Two hundred people were treated in the hospital and three of them died. Working-class London was outraged. The trauma of London's \"Bloody Sunday,\" following so closely on Chicago's Black Friday, galvanized British radicals and reformers and gave rise to a British anarchist movement.34\n\nThe news of Haymarket exerted its greatest influence on Spanish workers, who had organized a powerful federation with anarchist leaders in the early 1880s. When their open trade unions were destroyed, anarchists formed hundreds of resistance societies that existed side by side with workers' circles, caf\u00e9 clubs and choirs; the Spanish anarchists also supported newspapers that published talented writers and presented an enormous volume of information in accessible forms like serials and novellas. As a result, the story of the Chicago anarchists became so well known that the first anniversary of the executions in 1888 was widely observed by workers and radical intellectuals all over Spain, usually at evening festivities. Halls were transformed into shrines to the martyrs of Chicago as their _retratos_ (portraits) were hung along with those of anarchist fathers like Mikhail Bakunin. Indeed, as the anarchist Peter Kropotkin reported, there was not a city in Spain worth mentioning where \"the bloody anniversary\" was not commemorated by enthusiastic crowds of workers.35\n\nWhen Samuel Gompers appealed to Governor Oglesby to commute the sentences of the anarchists on death row, he predicted that executing them would cause thousands and thousands of workingmen all over the world to look upon the anarchists as martyrs. This is precisely what happened as workers created a ritualized memory of their heroes. When Gompers visited European cities in 1895, he noticed that in nearly every union hall there were pictures of Parsons, Lingg, Spies and the others, with the inscription: LABOR'S MARTYRS TO AMERICAN CAPITALISM. On later visits, he saw that the same pictures were still there.36\n\nThe memory of the Haymarket victims was further perpetuated when it became associated with the celebration of May Day as the International Workers' Day beginning in 1890. In cities all over Europe, the icons of the Chicago martyrs appeared in the First of May processions along with red flags and crimson flowers: in Barcelona, for example, where a militant strike for an eight-hour workday swept the city, and in Italian towns and cities from Piemonte to Calabria, where socialists and anarchists celebrated Primo Maggio with marches, festivals and strikes. Rank-and-file workers quickly transformed May Day into a potent ritual event to demonstrate for the eight-hour day, to assert a new working-class presence in society and, particularly in the Latin world, to commemorate the lives of the Chicago martyrs.37\n\nEvents took a different turn in Chicago on May Day 1890, when trade union members paraded in a dignified way that pleased the _Tribune._ There was no general strike like the one that paralyzed the city in 1886. By contrast, union carpenters struck for eight hours on their own four years later and then led other workers in an orderly march through the downtown. The marchers were mostly British, American, Scandinavian, Canadian and German craftsmen. There were no Bohemian lumber shovers or Russian clothing workers in the line of march, and no one carried red flags or black-bordered images of dead anarchists.38\n\nTHE RESPECTABLE DEMONSTRATION the Chicago carpenters led on May 1, 1890, indicated to the _Tribune_ 's editor that the city had entered a new era of peace and quiet. To Jane Addams, who had recently arrived in the city to open her Hull House settlement for the West Side poor, it seemed clear that the repressive measures imposed after Haymarket were being lifted. But, she recalled, the riot and all that followed had had a \"profound influence on the social outlook of thousands of people,\" especially of the city's reform community. Led by the financier Lyman Gage, the labor activist George Schilling and other liberal-minded individuals, citizens participated in regular public discussions of social problems in which, Addams recalled, \"every shade of opinion was freely expressed.\" It seemed to her that many citizens of Chicago had decided that \"the only cure for anarchy was free speech and open discussion of the ills of which opponents of government complained.\"39\n\nDuring the early 1890s, as the eight-hour campaign resumed, the voice of labor made itself heard again in industrial America, especially in Chicago, where trade unionists of various political persuasions joined middle-class reformers in creating a new form of urban liberalism. What disappeared was the energetic working-class radicalism that had erupted during the Great Upheaval of 1886, along with the massive national labor movement the Knights of Labor had begun to mobilize. In the aftermath of Haymarket, the International Working People's Association was obliterated, while the Knights were scapegoated from the outside, divided on the inside and all but destroyed by aggressive employers' associations and court injunctions. And yet the ethic of cooperation and the practice of solidarity endured in the 1890s. New industrial unions of coal miners, hard-rock metal miners and railway laborers appeared and carried on the tradition of broad-based unionism in the nation's largest industries. Meanwhile, the contest for the political soul of the labor movement resumed. Socialists like George Schilling and his comrades offered a spirited challenge to the brand of unionism espoused by American Federation of Labor officials like Sam Gompers, who avoided visionary thinking and focused on immediate economic and political goals. Indeed, within the emerging labor movement, a majority of union leaders, whatever their partisan views, agreed that society \"as presently constituted\" was \"corrupt and vicious\" and required \"complete reconstruction.\" 40\n\nMany of these activists believed unions on the shop floor were an embodiment of direct democracy and that the larger house of labor was a structure prefiguring a new kind of cooperative republic governed by the people, not ruled by the elite. The trade union was, said Gompers, \"the germ of the future state which all will hail with glad acclaim.\" Albert Parsons and August Spies had died, but elements of their \"Chicago idea\" survived them.41\n\nAs the labor movement revived itself during the early 1890s, concern mounted in labor circles over the fate of the surviving carriers of the Chicago idea, the three Haymarket convicts languishing in Joliet Prison. George Schilling, Henry Lloyd and others active in the original Amnesty Association even held out hope that the last of the anarchists, Fielden, Schwab and Neebe, might be pardoned. In a revealing letter written to Lucy Parsons, Schilling warned against her continuing use of violent rhetoric that would roil the calming waters of Chicago politics. When Lucy wrote to him about a particularly violent speech she delivered to an enthusiastic group of Italian workers, Schilling replied, \"The open espousal of physical force\u2014especially when advocated by foreigners\u2014 as a remedy for social maladjustments can only lead to greater despotism. \" When the public was terrorized, policemen like Bonfield and \"hangmen\" like Judge Gary mounted their saddles and rode in like \"saviors of society.\" Fear was not \"the mother of progress\" but of reaction, he added. Schilling told Lucy that her agitation still inspired such fear and could again call forth brutal men who would respond to forceful words with repressive actions. And then he added this sermon: \"At Waldheim sleep five men\u2014among them your beloved husband\u2014who died in the hope that their execution might accelerate the emancipation of the world. Blessed be their memories and may future generations do full justice to their courage and motives, but I do not believe that the time will ever come when the judgment of an enlightened world will say that their methods were wise or correct. They worshipped at the shrine of force; wrote it and preached it; until finally they were overpowered by their own Gods and slain in their own temple.\" 42\n\nIn the fall of 1892, Schilling and other reformers turned from talk to action when they helped elect John P. Altgeld governor of Illinois. Born in Germany and raised on an Ohio farm, Altgeld suffered a rough life on the road until he began a successful career as a Chicago lawyer in 1875. His law practice soon became lucrative, as did his endeavors in real estate. He began to participate in Democratic Party politics, expressing conventional, if not conservative, views. Yet, after he was elected to a judgeship, he revealed sympathies for the underdog when he advocated for prison reform, condemned police brutality and defended immigrants against the charge that foreigners were more inclined toward crime and disorder than native-born Americans. An unlikely figure for a politician, Altgeld had an oddly shaped head topped with matted hair and was afflicted with a harelip that impeded his heavily accented speech. He was often the subject of ridicule in the Yankee press, but when he campaigned with Schilling in the union halls and immigrant saloons, he seemed enormously attractive to the men in working clothes who embraced Pete Altgeld as one of their own. Despite vitriolic attacks on him by some Chicago newspapers, he won an impressive victory in 1892, in part because of the massive labor vote rung up in city wards by his friend Schilling and other union leaders.43\n\nLabor activists were nearly as excited in the spring of 1893 when Carter Harrison miraculously returned from the oblivion to which he was assigned after Haymarket and won a fifth term as mayor, even after being red-baited with unprecedented severity. Once again the magician of Chicago politics brought his fellow citizens into a circle of civil discourse. Harrison's surprising election came at a time when American eyes were turned on Chicago, where the World's Fair opened on May 1, 1893\u2014a day no doubt chosen to signal a new beginning for the city, if not to erase the memory of a troubled time seven years before when the Great Upheaval and the Haymarket crisis tore the city apart. To battle-weary activists like George Schilling, it suddenly seemed like the dark memories of the 1870s and 1880s might be erased by the bright lights that lit the grand buildings of the World's Columbian Exposition.\n\nThe fair was a colossal success, revealing to millions of Americans what Henry Demarest Lloyd called the possibilities of \"social beauty, utility and harmony of which they have not been able even to dream.\" Carter Harrison, the mayor who had been driven from office for allowing free speech to anarchists, became the exposition's dominant personality, the embodiment of Chicago's tolerant soul and progressive spirit.44\n\nThe Haymarket case assumed a surprisingly prominent place in all this excitement. After John Peter Altgeld's inauguration as governor, Schilling, Lloyd and a young Ohio-born attorney named Clarence Darrow mounted a public campaign to pardon Fielden, Schwab and Neebe, on the ground that they had been denied a fair trial. Darrow, who had arrived in Chicago in 1888 and had plunged into Democratic politics on the West Side, became a follower of Henry George's brand of radicalism and an avid supporter of Pete Altgeld. His sympathy for the underdog and his interest in socialism and anarchism led him to investigate the case of the Haymarket anarchists in Joliet Prison and then to play a leading role in seeking their pardon. It was his first involvement in pleading the cases of notorious troublemakers\u2014the beginning of a long and unparalleled career as \"the attorney for the damned.\" 45\n\nSo, during his first months in office, Altgeld was lobbied assiduously by two formidable advocates: Schilling, who helped engineer his election, and Darrow, a brilliant young legal talent who had become the governor's acolyte. Altgeld remained unmoved by their pleas until March, when he summoned Schilling to Springfield and asked him to gather, as secretly as possible, affidavits from jurymen, witnesses and victims of police violence whose testimony might be relevant in his review of the Haymarket case.46\n\nIn a few weeks, Schilling produced a huge stack of signed statements from citizens who had been beaten and shot by the Chicago police or who had been arrested without warrants and held without charges after the bombing. Among them were affidavits given by men to whom the police had offered their freedom, plus cash, for testifying against the indicted anarchists. Schilling also collected affidavits from members of the jury pool indicating that the special bailiff summoned only men who expressed prejudice toward the defendants. Altgeld now had all the ammunition he needed to fire off a legal salvo that would resound for decades to come.47\n\nDuring the same month the fair opened in 1893, Lucy Parsons's effort to raise money for a monument on the martyrs' grave at Waldheim proceeded to its conclusion thanks to the efforts of the Pioneer Aid and Support Association, a group organized to care for the grave site and assist the families of the Haymarket anarchists. A sculptor, Albert Weinert, created a statue in forged bronze. Inspired by \"La Marseillaise,\" the monument took the shape of a hooded woman placing a laurel on the head of a dying man. The female figure looks and strides forward assertively as if to protect the fallen worker at her feet. A parade of 1,000 people retraced part of the anarchists' funeral procession to attend the unveiling on June 25, 1893. The crowd included many visitors, native and foreign, who came to town for the World's Fair. During the day that followed, the _Tribune_ reported that 8,000 more went out to Waldheim to view the monument.48\n\n _Haymarket Martyrs' Monument, Waldheim Cemetery,_ _Forest Park, Illinois_\n\nIn the year after the fair it was estimated that almost as many people came to see the monument at Waldheim as to see the beautiful Saint-Gaudens statue of Abraham Lincoln in the lakeside park named after him. There was nothing like the Haymarket memorial in any other cemetery, park or city square in America. For the martyrs' followers, the Waldheim monument became a ritual site for preserving a sacred memory that, without commemorative vigilance, would soon be erased. The memorial provided an even more enduring symbol than Lucy Parsons and her supporters imagined; the haunting statue guarding the graves of the Haymarket anarchists also became a mecca, a kind of shrine for socialists and other pilgrims who came to visit from all over the world. 49\n\nThe morning after the monument dedication Governor John Peter Altgeld announced that he was pardoning Fielden, Schwab and Neebe. His bluntly written statement declared that the trial of the Haymarket eight had been unfair and illegal because \"a packed jury had been selected to convict,\" because \"much of the evidence given at the trial was a pure fabrication,\" because the defendants were not proven guilty of the crime charged in the indictment, and finally, and most provocatively, because \"the trial judge was either so prejudiced against the defendants or else so determined to win the applause of a certain class in the community, that he could not and did not grant a fair trial.\" Altgeld went even further, saying he believed the bomb thrower was not acting as a part of a conspiracy but as an individual seeking revenge against a police force that had been beating and shooting unarmed working people since the railroad strike of 1877. 50\n\nThis gubernatorial opinion did not, however, bring an end to speculation about the bomb thrower's identity. City officials and many others, including historians, continued to believe the fugitive anarchist Schnaubelt was the perpetrator, even though the evidence against him was not credible. (Schnaubelt's odyssey had taken him from Chicago to the back-woods of Canada, where he lived among native people, then to England, where anarchists sheltered him, and finally to Argentina, where he became a successful manufacturer of farm equipment and lived a life of quiet respectability.) On the other hand, many working people, as well as advocates such as Captain Black and Henry Lloyd, continued to believe the bomber was either a Pinkerton agent who knew an attack on law officers would provoke a riot and a reaction against the eight-hour movement, or an off-duty policeman who was actually attempting to hurl his projectile into the crowd or at the speakers' wagon.51\n\nMany years later the scholar Paul Avrich researched every lead in the case and tentatively concluded that the perpetrator was either a Chicago anarchist known to Dyer Lum or a German ultramilitant from New York. However, Lum, embittered beyond endurance by the fate of his comrades, committed suicide a few months before Altgeld issued his pardon and died without revealing the name of the individual he supposedly knew to be the bomber. The German suspect from New York died without ever being identified, except in a private conversation between two old anarchists.52\n\nIn any case, what mattered to Governor Altgeld was not the bomber's true identity, but the fact that the prosecution never charged anyone with committing the act and instead charged men with murder for allegedly having knowledge of an assassination plot. In giving his reasons for pardoning the Haymarket survivors, the governor vehemently objected to Judge Gary's ruling that the defendants could be tried for murder without proof that they had direct connection to the perpetrator. \"No judge in a civilized country has laid down such a rule,\" he wrote. Altgeld concluded by agreeing with those who said Judge Gary had conducted the anarchists' trial with \"malicious ferocity.\"53\n\nThe Haymarket case, already a prominent event in the minds of Americans and many Europeans, now became even more memorable because of this historic pardon and because of the way in which the governor of Illinois came out of his office and deliberately exposed himself to the thunderstorm of abuse that would follow his decision.\n\nThe next day, Darrow recalled, \"a flood of vituperation and gall was poured out upon Altgeld's head.\" A United States Supreme Court justice compared the governor to the traitor Jefferson Davis, and Robert Todd Lincoln, an influential figure in the Pullman Company, declared Altgeld's pardon a disgrace to the state where his martyred father was buried. Newspaper editors far and wide joined the chorus of condemnation. The _Tribune_ 's Joseph Medill, who despised Altgeld, now attacked him for issuing the pardon to pay off his electoral debt to socialist and anarchist voters. The governor \"was not merely alien by birth but an alien by temperament and attitude\" and an anarchist at heart.54\n\nAltgeld had never shown the slightest degree of sympathy for anarchists, but he had expressed indignation when immigrants were stereotyped as lawless and disorderly. However, the governor's pardon statement was not motivated mainly by sympathy for fellow Germans but by what Clarence Darrow called his \"patriotic love of liberty\" and his belief that the methods used to convict the anarchists were a greater menace to the Republic than what they had done. Altgeld feared that when the law was bent to deprive immigrants of their civil liberties, it would later be bent to deprive native sons and daughters of theirs as well.55\n\nNot everyone in Chicago condemned Altgeld, however. Three Chicago newspapers, including the Republican _Inter-Ocean,_ defended his decision to pardon the anarchists. Some members of the city's legal and business communities who felt ashamed of the miscarriage of justice in 1886 also welcomed the pardon. One of them, a businessman named E. S. Dreyer, had headed the grand jury in the Haymarket case. After the trial he changed his mind about the case and signed the letter requesting clemency. When Governor Altgeld called Dreyer to the capital and asked him to take the pardon papers to Joliet Prison and present them to the three convicts, Dreyer broke down in tears.56\n\n _Governor John Peter Altgeld_\n\nArriving at the penitentiary, Dreyer found the anarchists soldiering away at their assigned tasks\u2014Neebe serving food in the commissary, Schwab binding books, as he had done in Germany, and Fielden breaking stone in the sun, working on contract for the same firm that had employed him as a teamster when he was a free man. The three men were amazed by the tone of Altgeld's tough statement, and, in an outpouring of gratitude, they promised to live obscure lives, so much so that when they made their way back to Chicago, they jumped off their train in the freight yards to avoid the press. 57\n\nThe three anarchists made good on their promises. Michael Schwab returned to the _Arbeiter-Zeitung,_ where for two years he wrote articles friendly to the workingman. He then resigned and opened a shoe store, but he failed at this and died of tuberculosis three years later. Schwab asked to be buried at Waldheim with his old comrades. Oscar Neebe, whose first wife had died when he was in the Cook County Jail, married a German widow and quietly tended bar in her saloon near the stockyards until he died in 1916. He was interred next to his former partner August Spies. Sam Fielden inherited a small legacy from an English relative and moved to Colorado, where he lived a solitary, robust life in a log cabin until he died in 1922 at the age of seventy-four.58\n\nAltgeld's pardon, for all the fury it caused in elite circles, removed a bone that had been sticking in the throats of liberal Chicagoans since the anarchist trial ended and the four bodies swung from the gallows. Now these concerned citizens could look forward more easily to a glorious summer when the Columbian Exposition would forecast the city's spectacular future of progress, reform and civic enlightenment. Indeed, before the summer ended, the miraculous White City erected on the lake had revealed Chicago's greatness to the world. The day before the fair closed in the fall of 1893, Mayor Harrison said this and more in a memorable speech predicting that the exposition would inaugurate a wonderful new era for Chicago.\n\nTHE EUPHORIC SPELL the fair cast over the city ended that same night, however, when a terrible event marred all the days of glory just past. The mayor was murdered in the living room of his mansion, felled by a bullet from the gun of a deranged office seeker. In death, even Carter Harrison's enemies extolled his virtues while all Chicago mourned his passing; it even seemed as though the mayor's legacy as a great unifier might inspire Chicagoans to maintain the civic solidarity and communal joy the fair had evoked. However, this wish would not come true, because in the next few months the city slid into another depression, and during the summer of 1894 its residents suffered another trauma produced by what seemed an unending and distressingly bloody conflict between labor and capital.\n\nThe trouble began unexpectedly on May 11 in George Pullman's model industrial town when 2,000 palace-car workers left their shops to protest drastic reductions in the workforce and a sharp wage cut of one-third for remaining employees. These losses were difficult to accept, because they came at a time when Pullman paid dividends to his stockholders. Furthermore, a piece-rate pay system, designed to boost output, alienated shop workers because they had to work faster and harder to make up for reduced wages and, at the same time, endure personal abuses from hard-driving foremen.\n\nThe strikers sought assistance from a new inclusive union of railroad workers whose leaders carried on the Knights' tradition of organizing all crafts and trades together. Led by Eugene V. Debs, a lanky organizer for the Brotherhood of Locomotive Firemen, the American Railway Union revived the spirit of 1886 on the railroads. Debs resisted pressure to call his members out in a sympathy strike, because he knew that Pullman and his corporate allies had formed an association of the twenty-four lines operating in and out of Chicago\u2014perhaps the most powerful group of businessmen ever organized. Nonetheless, when Pullman refused to negotiate with his men, Debs ordered a boycott of trains hauling Pullman sleeping cars. In a few weeks a great sympathy strike had spread far and wide, paralyzing the nation's railroads west of Chicago, idling 50,000 workers and creating a panic among businessmen.59\n\nNever before had a union exercised this kind of strategic power over the levers of commerce. Unable to break the strike, railroad managers attached U.S. Mail cars to trains carrying Pullman cars, so that when workers refused to haul them federal authorities could intervene. The U.S. attorney general, a railroad lawyer named Richard Olney, persuaded Democratic president Grover Cleveland to send army troops into Chicago to break the strike, because, he insisted, the country was once again on the \"ragged edge of anarchy.\" In a short time, 15,000 regular army soldiers arrived from nearby Fort Sheridan, a base intended for just this kind of emergency by Marshall Field and his associates when they purchased the land on which it was constructed.\n\nThe battles that ensued in Chicago between troopers and strikers were the worst the country had seen since the bloodbath in Pittsburgh that began the great uprising in 1877. Hundreds of Chicago workers were wounded and at least thirty-four were killed before the fierce resistance was put down by army troops. Debs was arrested and later, after he was tried, sentenced to six months in jail for contempt of court because he had defied state authority. While he stood trial, he waited in a Cook County Jail cell next to the one where Albert Parsons had been held on similar charges.60\n\nDebs and his union brothers had been utterly defeated by Pullman and his allies in the federal government. But the victory was a costly one for Chicago's most famous industrialist, one that cost him his reputation, and, some would say, his life. Pullman had created a model company town outside of Chicago, hoping to avoid its furies; he had resisted the winds of change when they penetrated the walls of his city during the upheaval of 1886 and when they came again eight years later, reaching hurricane force. Still, the violent events of 1894 signaled that the end was near for the great industrialist and his company town. In the aftermath a federal commission condemned Pullman for exploiting his own employees and for refusing to consider their grievances. Weakened by the strike, Pullman died of heart failure three years later in the midst of a legal battle with the state's attorney general to maintain his corporate charter and his private company houses. Family members commissioned a grand Corinthian column to top his grave, but also ordered that Pullman's iron-clad casket be buried in reinforced concrete because they feared that angry workers might vandalize his remains.61\n\nThe battle of 1894 also transformed Pullman's adversary, Eugene Debs, who, during his incarceration, decided that Americans were losing many of their precious liberties and that only radical measures could recover them. In fact, in response to the Pullman boycott federal courts had outlawed two of the most effective forms of labor solidarity to emerge from the Great Upheaval: the boycott and the sympathy strike. The following year the Illinois Supreme Court obliterated another vestige of 1886 when it struck down an eight-hour law covering women and children working in industry. These court actions initiated an era of extreme judicial hostility to nearly all forms of union organization and collective labor activity, a time when some union leaders abandoned militant tactics and radical dreams in search of accommodation, while others turned to direct action and violent forms of resistance.62\n\n _George M. Pullman in the mid-1890s_\n\nEugene Debs refused to take either course after he was released from prison in November of 1895. Instead, he embraced democratic socialism and took the lead in building a popular movement that he hoped would regain workers' lost liberties. Debs expressed no sympathy for anarchy in his jailhouse interviews or in the many speeches he delivered after his release from prison. However, when he came to Chicago two years later to found a new socialist group, Debs met with Lucy Parsons and made a pilgrimage to Waldheim, where he visited the graves of the men he regarded as \"the first martyrs to the cause of industrial freedom.\"63\n\nThe Pullman disaster also led some influential Chicagoans to recall the Haymarket tragedy, and to reassess its meaning in light of current events. A year later, as Clarence Darrow pled Eugene Debs's case before the Supreme Court on First Amendment grounds, an impressive new history of Chicago was published. One of the editors, Joseph Kirkland, a noted writer, carefully reviewed the Haymarket case, which he regarded as a critical moment in the city's history. Kirkland's detailed account of the trial reiterated the criticisms of the police, the bailiff, the prosecuting attorneys and the judge that Governor Altgeld had leveled against the same men in his famous pardon. 64\n\nThe facts of the Haymarket case, wrote Kirkland, showed that the state had not only been unable to produce the bomber; it had failed to prove the existence of an anarchist conspiracy. Indeed, it was now known that much of the evidence given at the trial was \"pure fabrication\" and that prominent police officials had bribed some witnesses and even threatened to torture others unless they testified as they were told.65 Kirkland's account of the Haymarket trial subverted the prosecution's case and vindicated the defense. George Schilling, William Dean Howells and others involved in the amnesty movement in 1887 had impatiently awaited the judgment of history; now it came, sooner than expected, reversing in almost every respect the legal judgment rendered by the court.\n\nKirkland closed the case in another way, however, one that gave no comfort to Lucy Parsons and the anarchist party of memory. As the years passed, he explained, the awful Haymarket tragedy had begun to fade from people's minds, just like \"the cloud of Anarchism,\" which had once loomed in the sky like \"a portentous menace to the peace of society,\" and then had passed into \"an innocuous vapor.\" Now, he observed, the memory of the dead anarchists could only be \"revived by their admiring disciples in feeble demonstrations on the anniversary of their execution.\" 66\n\nIndeed, every November 11, Lucy Parsons, Lizzie Holmes and other devoted custodians of the anarchists' memory faithfully gathered for the graveside ceremonies at Waldheim, where they sought to revive the martyrs' spirit with a passionate, almost religious, fervor. On one of these elegiac occasions, Emma Goldman proclaimed that these \"martyrs of liberty\" would continue to grow in their graves and \"would live with us always unto all eternity.\" She also believed their memory would be revived by a resurgent anarchist movement in the next century, when humanity would enter a new time without warring nations, conflicting classes and dominating authorities. And so, in the years after Black Friday, anarchists gathered in little circles on November 11\u2014not simply to mourn their heroes but also to venerate the men whose martyrdom would revive libertarian beliefs and inspire new believers around the world. This memorial day became an occasion for the faithful to express joy about the lives of the martyrs whose deaths mystically ensured the ultimate triumph of anarchism.67\n\nAnd yet, as the nineteenth century ended with the trumpets of militarism and imperialism blaring in Cuba and the Philippines, and with the engines of corporate capitalism roaring from Pittsburgh to Chicago, even dedicated visionaries like Lizzie Holmes harbored doubts that anarchist beliefs were spreading. She and William had left Chicago for Denver, where their home became a refuge for traveling anarchists like Lucy Parsons and Emma Goldman. On these visits Lizzie and Lucy recalled the \"stirring enthusiastic days\" in Chicago, the loud rallies, colorful marches, the huge strikes and the desperate fight to save the lives of Albert and the other \"Haymarket boys.\" Lizzie Holmes and her husband had remained as keenly devoted to their anarchist ideals as they had been \"in the days when their faith was young and their hopes were high.\" As the November 11 memorial day of the Chicago anarchists approached in 1898, Lizzie wrote that she and William were \"still looking longingly toward the east for the dawn of a new day for humanity.\" But at the next anniversary ceremony at Waldheim, she confessed that her hopes were fading. \"As we clasp hands above their graves today,\" she said, \"we cannot say the dawn is brighter, that mankind is happier and freer.\" As the nineteenth century drew to a close, Lizzie Holmes admitted that the anarchists buried at Waldheim no longer had a known following and that their lives and their ideas no longer held deep meaning for working people. A little more than a decade after the hangings on Black Friday, it appeared that the Haymarket martyrs had become lost in the past, forgotten and misunderstood.68\n_Epilogue_\n\nAT THE DAWN of the twentieth century few Americans had any reason to look backward to the dark age of bloody conflict marked by the Haymarket calamity. As Lizzie Holmes feared, no one but a small band of die-hard anarchists seemed to remember her beloved comrades and their tragic story. As the century wore on, however, the Chicago anarchists were not so easily forgotten. Indeed, whether they were remembered as terrible criminals or revered as venerable martyrs, the five men buried at Waldheim were recalled quite often, not only on the American scene, but in faraway places as well. Even after the last of their cohorts passed away, even after the living memory of the anarchists faded into oblivion, Parsons, Spies and their comrades appeared again and again in poems, plays, novels and history books, in drawings and posters, as well as on banners carried at demonstrations, in speeches delivered at commemorative rituals and in editorials written on free speech.\n\nThe memory of the Haymarket anarchists endured not only because they became heroic figures in labor and radical folklore, but also because their words and actions, their trial and their execution raised so many critical questions about American society in the industrial age and after. Indeed, the most important issues raised by the Haymarket case\u2014 questions about equality and inequality, class and nationality, crime and punishment, free speech and public safety\u2014remain as controversial in the twenty-first century as they ever were. All this is clear in retrospect, but in the two decades after the anarchists died, their story survived because a few radicals dedicated themselves to telling it and retelling it.\n\nIt was during this time that Lucy Parsons worked relentlessly, and at times single-handedly, to preserve the memory of her husband and his cause. Lucy's memorial work was always difficult, but at first it was an onerous and even dangerous task, especially in 1901 after Leon Czolgosz shot President William McKinley and it was revealed that the assassin had been in Chicago and that he claimed to be an anarchist. According to the _Tribune,_ the Secret Service suspected the \"Haymarket gang\" of being involved in the crime. When the paper sent its reporters to interrogate Lucy Parsons, she told them she had never heard of the assassin and that the shooting of the president was the worst thing that could happen to the anarchist movement. 1 She was correct.\n\n _Lucy Parsons in 1903_\n\nWhen President McKinley died, another red scare swept America, and the Haymarket-era image of the dangerous, anarchist immigrant reappeared. The new president, Theodore Roosevelt, set the tone, declaring that anarchism was \"not the outgrowth of unjust social conditions but the daughter of degenerate lunacy, a vicious pest\" that threatened \"to uproot the very foundations of society\" if it was \"not speedily stamped out by death, imprisonment and deportation of all Anarchists.\" 2\n\nIn 1903, President Roosevelt signed a pathbreaking law that barred anarchists from entry to the United States, along with paupers, prostitutes and the insane. The statute also allowed the government to deport any immigrants who converted to anarchism during their first three years in the country; this was the first time the federal government moved to exclude and deport certain immigrants because of their beliefs and associations.3\n\nNonetheless, Lucy Parsons plowed on with her publishing and speaking endeavors. She reprinted her collection of Albert's speeches and letters, and then set off on an exhausting road trip to promote the book. Although she was now overshadowed by the notorious Emma Goldman, the widow of Albert Parsons was still a revered figure in immigrant union halls around the country. Grief, hardship, poverty and advancing age (she was fifty years old in 1903) had not diminished her beauty. A stunning photograph of her appeared in the new edition of _The Life of Albert_ _Parsons,_ one that would become an iconic image when radicals rediscovered Lucy many decades later. She is standing erect, looking taller and younger than she was, delicately holding a paper scroll and wearing one of the formal dresses she made with her own hands. Her dark hair is short and curled. A light shines on her face as she looks out at the world with sad eyes.\n\nBy this time, Lucy Parsons had abandoned support for propaganda by deed, and had joined with the Socialist Party leader Eugene V. Debs and others who were trying to create a new labor movement, based largely on the \"Chicago idea\" of revolutionary unionism that her husband had espoused. And so it was fitting that Lucy appeared as an honored guest at the founding convention of the Industrial Workers of the World held at Chicago's Brandt's Hall in June 1905. Prominent among the 200 workers who attended the convention were the western hard-rock miners who followed their leader William D. Haywood to Chicago, carrying with them stories of the bloody battles they had fought in the Rocky Mountain metal-mining camps. Haywood, who had memorized the words of Spies and Parsons, convened the meeting of what he called the \"Continental Congress of the working class.\" The aim of the assembly, Haywood declared, was to create a revolutionary labor movement, premised on the reality of class struggle around the world. The IWW would become a vehicle for organizing the vast army of immigrant machine tenders and common laborers into \"one big union\" that would one day engage in the ultimate general strike. Once the \"wage slaves\" felt their own transcendent power, it would be natural for them to want to seize control of their industries and run them cooperatively. 4\n\nLucy Parsons's presence at the first IWW convention reminded the delegates of the Haymarket tragedy, which had ended the first great drive for revolutionary unionism in Chicago.5 She told the assembled workingmen, and a few workingwomen, of how she came to Chicago twenty-seven years before as a young girl full of hope and animation, and how her life had been changed by her husband's ordeal. After the convention adjourned that day, Bill Haywood recalled, the delegates responded to a plea from Lucy and visited Waldheim Cemetery to lay wreaths on the graves of the Chicago martyrs.6\n\nIn the next dozen years, as the Chicago idea of one big union espoused by the Industrial Workers of the World began to catch on, Lucy found more and more workers eager to hear of her husband's words and deeds. This was an age of industrial violence, when employers mounted relentless union-busting drives, aided by local police and vigilantes, by private gunmen and state militiamen and by hostile judges who denied workers freedom of speech and freedom of association. Scores of unarmed workers were slain on picket lines during mass strikes that often seemed like rebellions. As a result, many of the new immigrants who had been pouring into the United States by the millions since 1890 were intimidated; some of them, however, were radicalized by these experiences and attracted by the IWW's embrace of all races, creeds and nationalities\u2014\"the wretched of the earth.\" Prominent among these alienated immigrant laborers were the peasants and laborers who came to \"L'America\" from the poor provinces of the Italian Mezzogiorno.\n\nCommon laborers and factory operatives from southern Italy played an outsized role in the mass strikes that exploded all over the United States between 1909 and 1919, notably in the \"Uprising of the 20,000\" women clothing workers of New York City; in the legendary strike for \"Bread and Roses\" at Lawrence, Massachusetts; and in the Colorado coalfield wars, which culminated in the infamous massacre of two women and eleven children at Ludlow. Deeply involved in all these battles, Italian workers gravitated to the IWW and to a special foreign-language federation of the Socialist Party; they also helped revive the anarchist movement in the United States by forming scores of groups in industrial cities and towns. All of these organizations celebrated May Day and enjoyed picnics, where immigrants danced, sang songs, listened to long speeches, watched performances of plays like _Primo Maggio,_ written by the poet Pietro Gori, which began and ended with the singing of Verdi's operatic chorus \" _Va, pensiero,_ \" and heard readings of poems like Gori's \"Undici Novembre\"\u2014a tribute to those who died on Black Friday.7 The main speaker on May 1 usually followed a common script that began with a reference to the first May Day and the grand struggle for freedom that cost the lives of the heroic Haymarket martyrs, innocent victims of so-called justice in America.8\n\nThe Chicago anarchists were recalled in especially grand fashion on May Day in 1913, during a huge strike of 25,000 Italian silk workers in Paterson, New Jersey, an anarchist stronghold. On that May 1, a monster demonstration wound its way through the city, led by women dressed entirely in red outfits with white IWW insignias. On this day, wrote a radical reporter, \"the proletariat of Paterson raised the banner for which 26 years ago five of our comrades in Chicago were assassinated by the Republican Bourgeoisie.\" 9\n\nBy this time, the memory of the Haymarket martyrs had taken on a new life of its own. References to the Chicago anarchists appeared across the United States in May Day marches, IWW mass strikes and anarchist picnics. The names of Parsons, Spies and the others also reappeared at various manifestations that took place in other nations, especially in Spain, France and Italy, as well as in Argentina, Cuba and Mexico, where revolutionary union federations led by anarchists became mass movements during the first two decades of the twentieth century. Many of the militants in these new anarchosyndicalist unions regarded the Chicago martyrs as pioneers and celebrated their memory in May Day job actions and demonstrations. In Mexico, for example, May Day was celebrated for the first time in 1913 with anarchist-inspired strikes for the eight-hour day, protests against the nation's military rulers and memorials to the heroes who gave their lives for the cause in 1887. From then on, Primero de Mayo became a national holiday in Mexico, known as the \"Day of the Martyrs of Chicago.\"10\n\nDuring these stirring times, the nearly forgotten widow of Albert Parsons regained her status as the leading player in a company of traveling anarchists dedicated to preserving the memory of Black Friday and the men who died that day. All the while, Lucy Parsons continued to struggle with local authorities over her right to speak freely. At one point Chicago police even denied her a permit to speak in Washington Square across from the Newberry Library, a site reserved for free speech at the request of the institution's founder\u2014one of the few such places that existed in Chicago after Haymarket. 11 Lucy's numerous free-speech fights paralleled the IWW's massive civil disobedience campaigns on behalf of free expression for workers. At a time when the First Amendment was regarded as unenforceable, these radicals, known as Wobblies, challenged the courts in sharp ways and drew the attention of many complacent citizens to local authorities who regularly denied, and indeed mocked, the right to free speech for dissenters.12\n\nLucy Parsons and her radical comrades kept speaking and agitating until the United States entered World War I. Then, in 1917 and 1918, a patriotic fervor swept the land, and the government suppressed all types of protests, including strikes and May Day marches.13 Eugene Debs and socialist opponents of the war were tried for sedition and imprisoned. The IWW was devastated by vigilante assaults and federal prosecutions. A third red scare followed the war, and in 1920, the Department of Justice conducted raids that led to the arrest of 10,000 people, whose civil liberties were abused by federal agents. That same year, Congress enacted a law that allowed the government to punish and deport aliens simply for possessing radical literature, for \"advising, advocating or teaching\" radical doctrines and for belonging to radical organizations. 14 By this time nearly every repressive measure called for during the post-Haymarket red scare had become federal law.\n\nUnder these circumstances, the nation's leading historians reopened the Haymarket case and retried the defendants. Of the prosecution and execution of the Chicago anarchists, one legal scholar remarked: \"It may be that after all is said and done the end justified the means; it may be that our Government which today seems to be extremely lax in allowing Bolshevism and I.W.W. doctrines to be preached . . . might well study the result of the Chicago trial.\" The result was studied by historian James Ford Rhodes, who concluded in his influential _History of the United_ _States_ that \"the punishment meted out to the anarchists was legally just.\" Another noted historian of the time wrote that \"all seven anarchist wretches who assumed an impudent front during the trial\" deserved to be hanged\u2014even those whom Governor Altgeld had pardoned. 15\n\nThree decades after the hangings in Chicago, the memory of the Haymarket anarchists as heroic martyrs seemed to have survived mainly in the labor lore carried by itinerant Wobblies who constantly blew into the Windy City, where they roamed the \"canyon stretching across the great west side from the Lake through the Loop on toward the setting sun.\" These never-ceasing streams of humanity created what one observer called \"the largest number of homeless and hungry men that have ever been brought together anywhere in our land.\"16 Some of these hoboes turned up regularly in the free-speech park at Washington Square, now called \"Bughouse Square,\" where Lucy Parsons would speak about the old days and the men who gave their lives for the one-big-union idea.17\n\nDuring the 1920s, Parsons joined the efforts of the Communist Party's International Labor Defense group and took up the case of Tom Mooney, then serving a life sentence for allegedly bombing a San Francisco military-preparedness parade. She also joined the worldwide campaign to save the lives of Nicola Sacco and Bartolomeo Vanzetti, the two Italian anarchists sentenced to death in Massachusetts after a sensational murder trial. The ordeal of Sacco and his comrade Vanzetti aroused the same objections from well-known writers and intellectuals that Henry Demarest Lloyd and William Dean Howells had made on behalf of Parsons, Spies and their comrades. Like the Chicago anarchists, the Italians were tried by a biased judge and a packed jury on charges of \"general conspiracy\" to commit murder, and they too were executed for their beliefs as much as for their actions; thus they became victims, one commentator wrote, of \"a pattern of hate and fear toward radicals set in 1887.\"18\n\nThe fate of Sacco and Vanzetti, who were electrocuted on August 23, 1927, served as a reminder of what had happened to the Chicago anarchists four decades earlier; and so, when the Great Depression hit in 1929, stories of Haymarket had already resurfaced and floated out of the confines of Chicago's \"hobohemia.\" 19 In the hard times that followed, the legions of unemployed people demanding bread or work, the scores of radicals risking their lives to organize immigrant factory workers and the numerous cases of policemen gunning down protesters and picketers re-created scenes that had been acted out in Chicago during the Great Upheaval decades earlier. As a result, Lucy Parsons had many occasions on which to call up the memories of the workers killed in 1886 and 1887. Indeed, after many years of passing unnoticed, November 11 was celebrated once again as the Haymarket martyrs' memorial day in 1937, when Lucy Parsons addressed a mass meeting at the Amalgamated Hall on Ashland Avenue in Chicago. According to one observer, she stepped out on the platform, bent with age, almost totally blind, but still hurled curses at the powers that be and still called for the overthrow of capitalism. 20\n\nThis fiftieth-anniversary ceremony occurred just five months after ten steelworkers were shot in the back and killed as they ran from Chicago police at the South Chicago plant of Republic Steel, where they had established a picket line. Known as the Memorial Day Massacre, the event aroused liberal Chicago in passionate protest against the police. History seemed to be repeating itself in 1937, as the city's police department re-created the bloody events of 1886 and the _Tribune_ blamed the massacre on a riot caused by communists. Under these circumstances, the memory of the Haymarket tragedy fifty years earlier became useful to the militant organizers of the new industrial unions in Chicago. On May Day, 1938, local unionists trying to organize the old McCormick company (by now International Harvester) held a march from the South Side to Haymarket Square led by a float that featured a hooded man, identified as August Spies, who stood with a rope around his neck in a tableau meant to symbolize the ongoing suppression of workers' civil liberties by the Chicago police.21\n\nThe Haymarket affair was recalled during the bloody 1930s because it highlighted the agonizing dilemma violence presented for the American labor movement. Mainstream trade unionists like Sam Gompers had looked back in anger at the Chicago anarchists because their blatant advocacy of force played into the hands of labor's enemies, but other union activists, like Eugene Debs and Bill Haywood, admired Parsons and Spies for facing up to the brutal realities of American industrial life.22 Even trade unionists opposed to the tactics and beliefs of the Chicago anarchists understood that workers' struggles had often been met with shocking repression, and that when violence bred violence, when powerless laboring people struck back in anger, they often paid with their lives. This is why, unsettling though it has been, the Haymarket case could never be forgotten within the labor movement.\n\nThe eminent American historian Richard Hofstadter once observed that, even with a minimum of radical activity and ideologically motivated class conflict, the United States has somehow experienced a maximum of industrial violence: at least 160 instances in which state and federal troops intervened in strikes, and at least 700 labor disputes in which deaths were recorded. He thought the reason for this lay more in the ethos of American capitalists than in that of the workers, because it was clear to him that most American violence had been initiated with a \"conservative bias\" by the \"high dogs and the middle dogs\" against radicals, workers and labor organizers, immigrants, blacks and other racial minorities who had, for their part, rarely taken forceful action against state authority. Writing in 1970, Hofstadter expressed dismay at the actions of young radicals like the Weathermen, who provoked violent confrontations to elicit repressive responses from authorities; he nonetheless concluded that there were far worse things in American history than the strikes and spontaneous riots that had erupted so often in the past. \"After all,\" he noted, \"the greatest and most calculating of killers is the national state, and this is true not only in international wars, but in domestic conflicts.\" 23\n\nDuring the years after the shocking 1937 Memorial Day Massacre in Chicago, the new industrial unions grew and used their political influence to curb the police and private armed forces that had been used against strikers and protesters over and over again for sixty years. The aged Lucy Parsons, whose life had been shaped by these violent episodes, was treated like a living saint by many trade unionists in Chicago, especially when Congress mandated the eight-hour day in the Fair Labor Standards Act of 1938, marking the end of the long struggle Albert and Lucy Parsons had helped to initiate. Lucy was a particularly important person to the radicals fighting to bring a union back to the old McCormick Reaper Works, where all the trouble began so many years ago. In 1941, at age eighty-eight, she braved the winter winds and spoke to workers on the Black Road, where a union affiliated with the new Congress of Industrial Organizations was conducting a campaign for votes at the old McCormick works. When the weather warmed up that spring, Lucy reappeared at a May Day parade, riding through the South Side as an honored guest sitting on top of a float sponsored by the Farm Equipment Workers Union. It would be her last May Day.24\n\nNine months later, on March 7, 1942, the stove in Lucy Parsons's little house caused a fire. Handicapped by her blindness, Lucy could not escape. She died of smoke inhalation. Her books, papers and letters from Albert and a host of others survived the fire, but were confiscated by police officers and never seen again. Lucy Parsons's ashes were placed at Waldheim, close to the remains of her beloved husband and her daughter, Lulu. Her quiet funeral was attended by many of the young radicals who carried on the union fight that had begun during the Great Upheaval of her youth.25\n\nLucy's final May Day in 1941 was also the last one celebrated in Chicago for many years. After the United States entered World War II, Communist Party leaders let May 1 pass without notice. They even disbanded their party organization and joined mainstream union leaders in taking a no-strike pledge for the duration of the war. The Chicago idea of militant unions taking mass action against capital and the state\u2014the idea Parsons and Spies espoused until their last breaths\u2014had simply vanished from the American labor scene.\n\nAfter World War II the living memory of the Haymarket anarchists died, and their story survived only in literature\u2014in the Chicago poems by Kenneth Rexroth; in a best-selling novel, _The American: A Middle_ _Western Legend,_ about the life of John Peter Altgeld written by the most popular leftist writer of the time, Howard Fast; and in Nelson Algren's prose poem to his hometown, Chicago: City on the Make.26 Long ago, the famous novelist wrote, Chicago had been the town of \"the great Lincolnian liberals,\" figures like John Peter Altgeld, \"the ones who stuck out their stubborn necks in the ceaseless battle between the rights of Owners and the rights of Man.\" Algren loved this Chicago that was once the \"most radical of all American cities: Gene Debs' town, Bill Haywood's town, the One Big Union town.\" But he also hated the place because it was the most brutal of all American cities, a \"town of the hard and bitter strikes and the trigger happy cops,\" a town where \"undried blood on the pavement\" recalled the Haymarket tragedy. And so Chicago remained a city with \"many bone-deep grudges to settle\"\u2014none greater, Algren thought, than the \"big dark grudge cast by the four standing in white muslin robes, hands cuffed behind, at the gallows' head. For the hope of the eight hour day.\"27\n\nAFTER ALGREN'S HARD-EDGED essay on Chicago appeared and then disappeared, the Haymarket story nearly vanished from literature during the Cold War years, when all manifestations of radicalism became deeply suspect. The May Day celebrations that had resumed briefly after World War II were banned. In 1955, May 1 was proclaimed Law Day in many states, and then designated as Loyalty Day throughout the country by presidential decree. The Congress of Industrial Organizations merged with the conservative American Federation of Labor that same year after nearly all radicals had been purged from union offices. The epic events in Chicago that gave birth to the first labor movement and the first May Day, as well as to the Haymarket tragedy, now became merely another chapter in \"labor's untold story.\" Thus, it seemed that the memory of Haymarket would be effectively erased from the labor movement's history, even in Chicago.28\n\nElsewhere, however, particularly the Latin world, the Haymarket story was told and retold many times over. Indeed, no other event in United States history after the Civil War exerted the kind of hold the Haymarket tragedy maintained on the popular imagination of working people in other countries, particularly in Argentina, Chile, Cuba, Uruguay and Mexico, where exiled Spanish and Italian anarchists organized the first labor unions and led militant strikes and May Day marches in the decades after Haymarket. 29\n\nEven in Argentina, Bolivia, Chile and Uruguay, where military dictators destroyed unions, imprisoned their members, executed their leaders and suppressed all forms of oppositional writing and speaking during the 1970s, stories about the Haymarket martyrs were told and icons to their memory were preserved. While traveling in a remote tin-mining region of Bolivia during the 1980s, the writer Dan La Botz met a worker who invited him into his little home. As he was eating dinner with the miner and his family, La Botz noticed a small piece of cloth hanging in the window, an embroidery that in the United States might have read GOD BLESS OUR HOME. He moved closer to take a look and saw that it read LONG LIVE THE MARTYRS OF CHICAGO.30\n\nIN 1985 THE URUGUAYAN AUTHOR Eduardo Galeano came to Chicago from Montevideo, where he had been a union activist and radical journalist until 1973, when a military coup sent him to prison and then into a long exile.31 He fondly remembered the May Day marches that took place in his home city every year until the generals seized power; and so when Galeano came to Chicago during springtime, he wondered if May 1 would be celebrated in this city full of factories and workers. As soon as he arrived, he asked his hosts to take him to the Haymarket district to see the historic site, but when he arrived on Desplaines Street, he found nothing to mark the spot. No statue had \"been erected in the memory of the martyrs of Chicago in the city of Chicago,\" he recalled. Not even a bronze plaque. Furthermore, May Day came and went without notice. \"May 1st is the only truly universal day of all humanity, the only day when all histories and all languages and religions and cultures of the world collide,\" Galeano wrote. \"But in the United States, May 1st is a day like any other. On that day, people work normally and no one, or almost no one, remembers that the rights of the working class did not spring whole from the ear of a goat, or from the hand of God or the boss.\"32\n\nEduardo Galeano left Chicago without meeting those kindred spirits who did remember Haymarket and May Day\u2014the old radicals and union veterans of the Depression-era struggles in the stockyards and steel mills who were custodians of the city's plebeian memories. Unbeknownst to Galeano, a small party of these people had been trying for more than fifteen years to erect a memorial in Haymarket Square to the workers who died there and to those who later swung from the gallows.\n\nThe most famous of them was Studs Terkel, a noted expert on jazz, a popular radio host, a much-loved raconteur and a keeper of the city's memory books. Terkel appeared on public television on May 1, 1986, to speak on the centennial of \"one of the most traumatic moments in American labor history, the Haymarket tragedy.\" It was all about the fight for a freer workplace, he explained. Some young workers \"bad-mouthed unions,\" he declared, but at the same time they accepted the freedom unions gained for workers \"as a matter of course.\" But did they \"know how it came about, how many blacklistings, how many busted heads, how many busted lives\" it took? \"Whatever benefits American working people have today didn't come from the big-heartedness of those who employed them,\" Terkel added. \"They were hard-fought gains, through hard-fought battles.\" 33\n\nFor sixteen years Terkel had been working with a small group of Chicagoans dedicated to preserving the memory of the workers who died during and after the riot in 1886. Studs first learned the Haymarket story from Wobblies who roomed in his mother's hotel and was reminded of it again and again, particularly on one memorable occasion in 1926 when he heard Lucy Parsons speak in Bughouse Square. For him the Haymarket saga was at the heart of Chicago's story as he knew it and told it.34\n\nTerkel's preservation efforts took a public turn on May 4, 1970, when he addressed a small memorial meeting in Haymarket Square. He spoke that day of the duty to remember striking workers who came there to protest on May 4, 1886, and who deserved their monument, the same as the police who were memorialized by the old statue that still stood at the end of the square, now hovering perilously close to an expressway that tore the West Side apart.35\n\n _Studs Terkel speaking at the Haymarket Memorial Committee rally_ _on May 4, 1970, on the site where the speakers' wagon was located_ _on May 4, 1886_\n\nThe meeting took place in rough political waters still churning from violent events involving the Chicago police. After Martin Luther King's assassination in April 1968, angry black protesters appeared on the streets of the West Side, and 5,000 police officers massed to protect the downtown Loop. Once again blood flowed on those streets when patrolmen shot 48 African-Americans. Four of them died.36\n\nA week later Mayor Richard J. Daley said the police had been too soft on the rioters and issued a militant \"shoot to kill\" order in cases involving arsonists and looters. The next day, in a speech observing May 1 as Law Day, Mayor Daley rephrased his controversial order, but he kept the police force on high alert and activated a special \"Red Squad\" to deal with black militants and the antiwar radicals planning to demonstrate at the Democratic National Convention in August.37\n\nWhen protest groups applied for permits to march and rally at the event, they were denied them, but as the convention neared, demonstrators poured into the city anyway, expecting a showdown between \"a police state and a people's movement.\" On the night the convention opened, the whole world watched on television as Chicago police furiously beat demonstrators and news reporters in front of the Hilton Hotel's Haymarket Bar and then pursued them into Grant Park.38\n\nIn the fall of 1969 tensions escalated again when the trial of the \"Chicago Eight\" began in the courtroom of Judge Julius Hoffman. Tom Hayden, Abbie Hoffman, Jerry Rubin and Black Panther leader Bobby Seale were among the eight radicals accused of conspiring to incite riots at the Democratic National Convention in a trial that conjured up the prosecution of the eight Haymarket anarchists eighty-three years before. Under the circumstances, the young revolutionaries who came to the city for the trial focused their anger on the Chicago police, whose history was symbolized by the police statue that still stood in Haymarket Square.39\n\nThe erection of public monuments had sometimes provoked controversy in the past, but no city experienced a conflict as explosive as the one that erupted in Chicago over the memorial legacy of Haymarket Square.40 The Haymarket police statue had aroused resentment as soon as it was dedicated in 1889, and when it was moved to Union Park on the West Side a few years later, it was good riddance, according to the city's labor unionists. Then, in 1957, the Haymarket Businessmen's Association restored the monument and returned it to the square in an effort to promote tourism in a dingy part of town. And there it stood on Randolph Street until the night of October 6, 1969, when the monument was blown apart by several sticks of dynamite placed between the bronze patrolman's legs.\n\nThe explosion broke windows in nearby buildings and rained down pieces of metal on the Kennedy Expressway, but no one was hurt. \"The blowing up of the only police monument in the United States . . .\" was, according to the leader of the city's police sergeants, \"an obvious declaration of war between the police, and the S.D.S. [Students for a Democratic Society] and other anarchist groups.\" In fact, the statue had been destroyed by members of the militant Weathermen faction of SDS, who knew the Haymarket story and regarded Spies and Parsons as heroic figures.41 The explosion did nothing, however, to relieve the rage young revolutionaries felt toward the police\u2014a rage that became an uncontrollable fury when two Black Panther leaders, Fred Hampton and Mark Clark, were killed by Chicago police officers during a nighttime raid on their apartment in December of 1969.42\n\nUnder these adverse circumstances, a small group of union veterans formed a Haymarket Memorial Committee to undertake the formidable task of erecting something in the square to honor the memory of the workers killed by police gunfire that night in 1886 and of the men who were tried and executed for the bombing. The committee's secretary, Leslie Orear, drew an explicit connection between past and present in his call for a new memorial. The Haymarket tragedy, he wrote, offered a useful analogy to the present because the conflicts that produced it were so much like the outbreaks of violence that caused bloodshed in the late 1960s.43\n\nThe memorial committee had no success, however, when it challenged what Les Orear called \"a deliberate amnesia\" on the part of city officials concerning the Haymarket tragedy. An even more serious problem was the police department's investment in its interpretation of violent events. \"Our story is that the Haymarket was a police riot\u2014nobody did a damn thing until the police came,\" Orear explained. \"Their story is that they saved the city from anarchist terrorism.\" Mollie West, a Memorial Committee member who had nearly been killed by police gunfire during the Memorial Day Massacre in 1937, thought there could be a historical park in the Haymarket that would give the police a \"fair shake\" but also restore some balance to the site by honoring the protesters, though she realized that in Chicago this would be a hard act to complete.44 West had no idea just how difficult this task would become over the next few turbulent years.\n\nWhen city officials regularly rebuffed appeals for some marker to commemorate the worker casualties of Haymarket, preservationists found another way to remember them. On May 4, 1970, the same day that Mayor Daley unveiled the newly repaired police statue, Studs Terkel and other Illinois Labor History Society members pluckily gathered in the square to dedicate a small plaque honoring the union dead, which they placed on the wall of the Catholic Charities Building on Randolph Street; it was all they could get, because city officials refused to allow any such thing to be put in public space. Shortly after it was hung, the plaque was torn down. There would be nothing new mounted in the square to contest the police department's story of Haymarket, the story embodied so gallantly in the figure of the bronze patrolman with his hand raised in the air.\n\nAnd then, on October 6, 1970, the Weathermen struck again, blowing up the police monument a second time.45 Months later, when the battered statue was repaired and returned yet again to its concrete pedestal, the mayor ordered round-the-clock police protection at considerable cost and embarrassment to the city. At this point, Les Orear of the Labor History Society wrote to Daley and suggested that the monument be moved out of the violently contested space in the Haymarket to a more secure location. The metal policeman remained on his pedestal for two more years until the statue was quietly transferred to the lobby of the Central Police Station; it was later placed in a nearly hidden courtyard of the Chicago Police Training Academy, where it could be viewed only by special appointment.46\n\nThe square was now emptied of any physical reminder of the 1886 tragedy. This vacancy still seemed a shame to Orear, who had devoted years of work to memorializing the place. He had met people who visited the site and broke down in tears \"when they found there was absolutely no demarcation there,\" and he had often led delegations of foreign travelers to the spot, pilgrims who came from all over the world to Chicago and who viewed the site \"in awe, like it was a holy place.\"47\n\nSo Orear and his party of memory carried on until they finally achieved a victory in 1986, when the Illinois Labor History Society persuaded the new mayor of Chicago, Harold Washington (elected in 1983 as the city's first black mayor), to support a memorial park in the square that would honor the workers who died there, including the four anarchists who were later executed. On May 4, 1986, when the centennial of Haymarket was observed in various parts of the city, Mayor Washington issued a proclamation honoring the first May Day in 1886 as the beginning of \"the movement towards the eight-hour day, union rights, civil rights, human rights\" and describing the Chicago trial and execution that followed as \"a tragic miscarriage of justice which claimed the lives of four labor activists.\"48 However, when Mayor Washington died at the start of his second term in 1987, hopes for a memorial park expired with him. And so nothing existed in the Haymarket to recall the lives of anyone who died there, not the protesters and not the police.\n\nALTHOUGH HAYMARKET SQUARE lacked any visible reminders of the tragedy, the story of what happened there in 1886 and of what happened afterward gained more and more attention in the years after the centennial ceremonies. The old radical press in Chicago, the Charles H. Kerr Publishing Company, produced a rich documentary collection, reprinted William Adelman's popular walking tour of Haymarket sites, and published the music and lyrics to _Eight Hours,_ a cabaret-style musical production. These centennial publications were followed by a parade of scholarly studies by historians interested in Haymarket as a watershed moment in U.S. history.49 In 1998 historians at the Newberry Library achieved some public recognition of the event's significance when they persuaded the United States Park Service to make the martyrs' memorial at Waldheim a national landmark.50 In addition, various artists and imaginative writers produced cultural interpretations and artistic representations of the story and its characters, most recently in a novel and in three plays about the ever intriguing lives of Albert and Lucy Parsons.51 This continuing fascination with the Haymarket affair is based on the story's timeless qualities: its inherent drama, its tragic victims and larger-than-life characters, and its resonance with the political fears and moral concerns of the late-twentieth- and early-twenty-first-century world.52\n\nON SEPTEMBER 14, 2004, several hundred Chicagoans gathered to dedicate a memorial in Haymarket Square, finally erected as a result of persistent efforts by the Illinois Labor History Society and the officers of the Chicago Federation of Labor. The city's mayor, Richard M. Daley, the son of Richard J. Daley, approved the project, and the head of the city's police union spoke at the ceremony, even though both men seemed well aware of Haymarket Square's explosive history.53\n\nThere is a statue now on the exact spot where Sam Fielden stood speaking on a hay wagon when Captain Ward gave the order to disperse that night in 1886. Instead of naming the casualties of the Haymarket tragedy, the new monument on Desplaines Street offers the public a symbolic memorial: a figurative composition of rounded-off bronze figures with a reddish hue, shapes of people who are assembling, or perhaps disassembling, a wagon. 54 The base of the structure features a cautiously worded inscription that refers to the affair as \"a powerful symbol for a diverse cross section of people, ideas and movements,\" which touched \"on the issues of free speech, the right of public assembly, organized labor, the fight for the eight-hour workday, law enforcement, justice, anarchy, and the right of human beings to pursue an equitable and prosperous life.\"55\n\nThis language is nothing like what the fierce partisans of the Haymarket martyrs would have chosen. Rather, the inscribed words on the monument's base reflect a point of view carefully hammered out by a committee of citizens and local officials trying to mark a spot and an event that left a painfully conflicted memory as its legacy. So it took some time for citizens, advocates and officials to agree on an appropriate Haymarket memorial\u2014thirty-five years after the idea was first raised by Studs Terkel and others. For all those years, said the city's cultural historian, the idea of commemorating Haymarket was impossible because the event aroused such strong emotions; it took a long time for Chicagoans to gain a perspective that allowed people \"to look back on the Haymarket and see that it was everybody's tragedy.\" 56\n\nMANY PEOPLE ON ALL SIDES suffered, directly and indirectly, from the terrible events that unfolded in Chicago beginning on May 3, 1886. Besides the policemen and workers who lost their lives as a result, and scores of family members and friends who lost loved ones, other Americans sustained a different kind of loss\u2014a loss of heart. This was particularly true in the case of many of the worker activists and labor reformers who imagined creating a new and better world on the eve of the Great Upheaval. In 1865 their forefathers, Andrew Cameron, William Sylvis and Ira Steward, believed that the Republic's sacrifices in the Civil War, including the death of their beloved president, had made it possible for the United States to become a more perfect union. With the slaves emancipated and the South under democratic reconstruction, union workers in Chicago and other cities began to anticipate their own emancipation from the endless workday and growing tyranny of wage labor. For nearly twenty years they clung to that dream despite their bitter disappointment with failed laws, despite their suffering in two crippling depressions and despite their bloody defeats in strike after strike. On May 1, 1886, all this was forgotten as workers celebrated their \"emancipation day\" and looked forward to a new era when, they believed, America would become a cooperative commonwealth, free of violence and coercion or \"class rule of any kind.\" Three more days of hope followed, until the tragic bombing and shooting in Haymarket Square shattered the euphoria and unleashed the forces that led to Black Friday, when four workers in muslin robes dangled from ropes in Cook County Jail.\n\nIn the decades that followed, there would be other moments like May 1, 1886, when laboring people would strike and march and demonstrate their desire to create a new world of work, moments when they could even imagine the coming of a new cooperative society. But never again would there be anything quite like the feeling thousands of American workers experienced on that first May Day, that day when they believed that their dreams of freedom would really come true.\n\nThe nonviolent mass protests of May 1, 1886, could have marked a turning point in American history\u2014a moment when our industrial relations could have developed in a different, less conflicted way, but instead the killings at the McCormick plant, the bombing in the Haymarket, along with the court proceedings and the hangings that followed, ushered in fifty years of recurrent industrial violence, a period when workers, especially immigrants, often found themselves at war with their employers, the courts, the police and the armed forces of their own government.\n\nIn this sense, the Haymarket affair was not \"everybody's tragedy.\" The defeat of the eight-hour movement, the suppression of its radical wing and the extinction of the visionary Knights of Labor were great victories for employers in Chicago and other American industrial cities. Furthermore, the arrest, trial and execution of the anarchists were seen as moral and political victories for law and order, a series of events that were said to have saved the Republic from anarchy. The losers in the saga appeared at first to be merely a few maladjusted immigrant workers and the most militant troublemakers in their midst. But, in the long run, the losses were much broader.\n\nThe people of Chicago lost any chance for the social peace all classes desired; instead, they inherited the \"bone deep grudges\" that would rest on their shoulders for decades to come. The officers of the court, the police captains, the prosecuting attorneys, the judges and jurymen in the Haymarket case had seemed like heroes in 1887, but within a few years, they lost their lustrous reputations when members of the bar and other influential citizens throughout the state and elsewhere came to believe that the convictions of the anarchists were, in Clarence Darrow's words, \"brought about through malice and hatred,\" and that the tactics used by the police and the prosecution constituted a \"standing menace to the liberty of the citizen.\"57 What is more, the execution of Spies, Parsons, Engel and Fischer came to be seen by many people in the United States and overseas not as a victory of democracy over anarchy, but as a travesty that betrayed the American ideal of liberty and justice for all. It is impossible to say exactly what might have been different if the police hadn't killed those strikers at McCormick's, if the chief inspector hadn't decided to break up the Haymarket meeting, if someone hadn't thrown the bomb, but it is clear that, in some sense, we are today living with the legacy of those long-ago events.\nAcknowledgments\n\nMy editor, Andrew Miller, initially approached me about writing a new narrative history of the Haymarket affair, one that situated the event in a large social context and re-created the tensions and passions surrounding the birth of the first labor movement. The challenge was an exciting one. Andrew has supported my efforts to meet that challenge at every critical step in the process. His attention to detail, structure and flow in several drafts of the manuscript helped me to improve it in many important ways.\n\nHoward Zinn persuaded me to undertake this project. And I am very happy that he did. Howard offered his own special brand of encouragement all along the way, and did me a good turn at first when he referred me to his agent, John Taylor Williams. Ike Williams agreed to represent me and has done so very well.\n\nSeveral of my Boston friends have read the manuscript at various stages and offered many helpful suggestions, especially Jim O'Brien and Michael Kenney, who waded through a first draft with me and helped me chart a smoother course to my final destination. Jim also helped me with the epilogue. Christopher Daly read the manuscript with the eyes of a journalist and a historian, and offered me many valuable suggestions. John Hess and Robert d'Attilio read through these pages as well and gave me the benefit of their exceptional knowledge of anarchists and anarchism. Martin Blatt also read the entire manuscript and added a rewarding installment to our long and valuable dialogue about doing movement history. My research assistant in Boston, Jacob Carliner Remes, not only made excellent research notes for me; he also helped me clarify my thinking about the anarchists' trial and provided me with insightful suggestions about other critical aspects of my account. Ron Joseph, a former student, reappeared in my life a few years ago and offered to help me with this book: he has done so with great effect by carefully proofreading the text, by making editorial suggestions, by organizing and checking the citations, and by solving the mysteries of creating endnotes in Microsoft Word. My thanks also to Ellen Feldman and Dixon Gaines at Pantheon Books for additional editing.\n\nI am also deeply indebted to three historians whose own scholarship in labor and working-class history I respect and admire enormously. Bruce Laurie, David Montgomery and David Roediger each brought their own impressive knowledge of nineteenth-century social history to bear on my treatment of subjects they have studied in far greater depth.\n\nAny historian who seeks to retell an old story for a new time naturally relies upon the work of those who told the tale in earlier times. The Haymarket case is discussed in hundreds of books and articles and is examined exhaustively in three scholarly studies: in a pioneering political and legal study by Henry David; in a richly detailed account by Paul Avrich, the noted scholar of anarchism; and then, more recently, in an insightful cultural interpretation by Carl Smith. Anyone interested in the affair also owes a great debt to David Roediger and Franklin Rosemont for compiling and editing the superb _Haymarket Scrapbook_ for Charles H. Kerr. Since my account is also a story of Chicago, its immigrant workers and their organizations, I have relied upon the excellent historical work on the city, first of all the three volumes authored by the wonderful writer Bessie Louise Pierce, and then all those who followed her. I am especially indebted to the valuable research about Chicago's immigrant workers and their struggles produced by John B. Jentz, Hartmut Keil, Bruce C. Nelson, Richard Schneirov and Karen Sawislak.\n\nI have also returned again and again to the work of four great historians\u2014 Herbert Gutman, David Montgomery, Edward Thompson and Eric Hobsbawm\u2014 whose pioneering scholarship in social history informs this account of Gilded Age wage earners and their struggles. I trust the citations in my endnotes adequately express my debt to these historians and many others who have widened and deepened my understanding of the Gilded Age and its cities, its industries, its politics and its working people.\n\nOne of my desires in telling this story was to re-create scenes and characters by borrowing a few of the approaches novelists and playwrights use when they turn to historical subjects. I was, therefore, fascinated by Martin Duberman's exciting novel on Haymarket and by Zayd Dohrn's gripping play on the lives of Albert and Lucy Parsons. Martin and Zayd both met with me in New York City to talk about the story that fascinates us all. Zayd also responded with helpful comments on my nonfiction treatment of characters and scenes he has dramatized.\n\nI owe many thanks to those in Chicago who assisted me when I visited there: to James Grossman, Alfred Young and Tobias Higbie of the incomparable Newberry Library, who made me welcome as a summer fellow in 2004, when I was just beginning to think about the book, and then offered me a chance to speak to a knowledgeable public audience about my work in progress; to William Adelman, who took me on a personalized tour of the Haymarket sites and brought his own unrivaled knowledge of the case to his reading of a draft; to Leslie Orear, Mollie West, Mike Matejka and the folks at the Illinois Labor History Society, who have supported my work in various important ways; to Tim Samuelson, the city's cultural historian, for providing me with his account of the struggle to create a memorial in the square; to Mary Brogger, the Chicago sculptor, for sharing her artist's sense of how she has represented the Haymarket events in a public monument; and, most of all, to Studs Terkel, who granted me an unforgettable interview in his home in July of 2003 and told me his version of the Haymarket story in his inimitable voice.\n\nI am indebted to others in Chicagoland as well. During one visit my aunt and uncle, Ann and Bob DiVall, welcomed me back to their home and reminded me of my boyhood days when I ventured out of my little hometown of Carpentersville to see the big-city sites they selected: the ones we all remembered best were Union Station, Wrigley Field and the Chicago Historical Society\u2014the source of many of the illustrations used in this book.\n\nIn addition to the professionals at the Newberry Library and the Historical Society in Chicago, I owe other debts for research assistance. Elaine Bernard, director of the Harvard Trade Union Program, and the outstanding professionals at Harvard's Widener, Littauer and Lamont libraries unlocked the doors to the treasure of books and documents in their care. Special thanks to David Cobb in the map room at Pusey Library for helping me find the superb Railway Terminal and Industrial Map of Chicago from 1886 and for putting me in touch with Jonathan Wyss and Kelly Sandefer of Topaz Maps in Watertown, Massachusetts, who made the attractive and illustrative maps for this book. I would also like to acknowledge the professionals who staff the Beinecke Rare Book and Manuscript Library at Yale University; they helped me search the newly acquired Haymarket Collection.\n\nDuring the writing of this book I entered into a partnership with Leon Fink, who, as editor of the new journal _Labor: Studies of Working-Class History in the_ _Americas,_ proposed that the publication become the official journal of the Labor and Working-Class History Association, this at a time when I had just assumed the presidency of LAWCHA. Thanks to Leon, a portion of the epilogue of this book appeared in article form in _Labor_ 2 (Fall 2005), and is reprinted here by permission. Leon perked my interest in writing a book like this some time ago when he asked why scholars of labor history weren't tackling the large, epic stories as the journalist J. Anthony Lukas had done in his book _Big Trouble._ He also helped more directly by referring me to his graduate student, Aaron Max Berkowitz, who has worked as my capable research assistant in Chicago. Aaron has been especially helpful in finding and copying many of the illustrations that appear in this book.\n\nI also owe _ringraziamenti_ to many friends and associates in Italy, where I spent a month working on the manuscript in the fall of 2004 at Centro Studi Liguri in Bogliasco, near Genoa. I thank the Fondazione Bogliasco for awarding me a valuable fellowship and affording me several weeks of time to write in a well-equipped studio on a hill above the Mediterranean Sea. As enchanting as the vistas were, as delightful as the meals were, as engaging as the company of the other writers and artists was, I was only moderately distracted from my writing, and so my time in Bogliasco was therefore extremely productive. So _grazie_ _mille_ to the staff at the Centro and to the other fellows, especially to my novelist friends from Germany, Beate Rygiert and Danny Bachmann, who took an interest in my Chicago Germans and helped me prepare a reading based on six episodes in the life of August Spies. My return to Genoa was enriched, as it always is, by my friends Nando Fasce and Carla Viale, who took such good care of me, as they always do. Nando was especially helpful in shaping my thinking about the memory of Haymarket in a walk around the Porto Antico and on a train ride to Milano. So helpful too was _mio amico_ Bruno Cartosio, who invited me to Bergamo and shared his own insights on the legacy of Haymarket and the mysteries of _la memoria pubblica e la memoria privata._\n\nCloser to home I owe thanks to my faculty colleagues and the administrators of the University of Massachusetts Boston who awarded me a sabbatical leave and a post-tenure review award, which supported the research costs for this project, and to Susan Moir, director of the Labor Resource Center, for a grant to cover travel and copying costs. I also wish to express appreciation to all the workers and union members who have supported me at UMass-Boston in the library, in the offices of the College of Public and Community Service, in the mail room, in the computer labs and in the copy centers.\n\nEven closer to home are the various members of my extended family who showed their interest and encouragement during this bookmaking process, especially my sister Beth Kress, her son Simon, and my parents, Mary Kaye and Gerald Green, who first took me to Chicago when I was a boy.\n\nFinally, I express my love and gratitude to the two people who mean the most to me: my wife, Janet Lee Grogan, and my son, Nicholas James Green. Janet and Nick have both understood what doing this work means to me and have supported my effort to do it in many important ways, even though it has taken me away from them too often and too long. Janet read the entire manuscript with her own perceptive eyes and helped me improve it. Nick turned his mind and his red pen on the prologue and the epilogue and let me know how a student feels reading a marked-up essay. He also offered me sage bits of advice about making good word choices and avoiding poor metaphors, usually in conversations we had on the way to and from his school. It has been a special pleasure to write this book; this would not have been the case but for the love and peace of mind Janet and Nick have given me. So, for these priceless gifts, and for many others as well, I dedicate this book to them.\n\nSomerville, Massachusetts  \nMay 15, 2005\nNotes\n\n **Prologue**\n\nCalculation based on 1880 and 1890 censuses of manufacturing, which calculated \"value added\" to manufacturing by subtracting the value of materials from the gross value of products. Figures from tables in Bessie Louise Pierce, _The Rise of the_ _Modern City, 1871\u20131893,_ Vol. 3 of _A History of Chicago_ (New York: Knopf, 1957), pp. 534\u201335.\n\nBessie Louise Pierce, _From Town to City, 1848\u20131871,_ Vol. 2 of _A History of_ _Chicago_ (New York: Knopf, 1940), pp. 67, 110; and _Chicago Tribune,_ May 5, 6, 1886.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ May 3, 1886.\n\nDonald L. Miller, _City of the Century: The Epic of Chicago and the Making of_ _America_ (New York: Simon & Schuster, 1996), pp. 225\u201326, 228. On Pullman, see Bessie Louise Pierce, ed., _As Others See Chicago: Impressions of Visitors, 1673\u20131933_ (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1933), pp. 241\u201349. On Pullman building at Adams and Michigan, see Pierce, _Chicago,_ Vol. 3, p. 232, n. 102.\n\nQuote in Stanley Buder, _Pullman: An Experiment in Industrial Order and Community Planning, 1880\u20131930_ (New York: Oxford University Press, 1967), p. 141.\n\nAll quotes describing the events of May 4 are from the _Chicago Tribune,_ May 5, 1886, unless cited otherwise.\n\n _New York Times,_ May 6, 1886; and _Chicago Tribune,_ May 6, 7, 1886. On the _Tribune_ and its coverage, see Lloyd Wendt, _Chicago Tribune: The Rise of a Great American_ _Newspaper_ (Chicago: Rand McNally, 1969), pp. 282\u201385, 287\u201388.\n\nOn Medill, see Wendt, _Chicago Tribune;_ Carl Sandburg, _Abraham Lincoln: The_ _Prairie Years and the War Years_ (New York: Harcourt, Brace & World, 1954), p. 57; Pierce, _Chicago,_ Vol. 2, p. 86, and Vol. 3, p. 411; Gunther Barth, _City People: The Rise of_ _Modern City Culture in Nineteenth-Century America_ (New York: Oxford University Press, 1980), p. 98; and David Paul Nord, \"The Public Community: The Urbanization of Journalism in Chicago,\" _Journal of Urban History_ 11 (August 1985), p. 439.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ May 6, 1886.\n\nQuotes from Henry David, _The History of the Haymarket Affair: A Study in the_ _American Social-Revolutionary and Labor Movements_ (New York: Russell & Russell, 1936), p. 179; Mary Jones, _The Autobiography of Mother Jones_ (Chicago: Charles H. Kerr, 1925), p. 21; and Paul Avrich, _The Haymarket Tragedy_ (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1984), p. 218.\n\nSee Richard Sennett, \"Middle-Class Families and Urban Violence: The Experience of a Chicago Community in the Nineteenth Century,\" in Stephan Thernstrom and Richard Sennett, eds., _Nineteenth-Century Cities: Essays in the New Urban History_ (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1969).\n\nQuotes from Sven Beckert, _The Monied Metropolis: New York City and the Consolidation of the American Bourgeoisie, 1850\u20131896_ (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2001), p. 276; and T. J. Jackson Lears, _No Place of Grace: Antimodernism and the_ _Transformation of American Culture, 1880\u20131920_ (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1994), p. 29.\n\nJeffory A. Clymer, _America's Culture of Terrorism: Violence, Capitalism, and the_ _Written Word_ (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2003), pp. 36\u201339; _New_ _York Times,_ May 6, 1886; and Paul Boyer, _Urban Masses and Moral Order in America,_ _1820\u20131920_ (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1978), p. 126.\n\nReverend H. W. Thomas quoted in Carl Smith, _Urban Disorder and the Shape of_ _Belief: The Great Chicago Fire, the Haymarket Bomb, and the Model Town of Pullman_ (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1995), p. 169.\n\nIbid., p. 168.\n\nSamuel Gompers, _Seventy Years of Life and Labor: An Autobiography_ (New York: Dutton, 1925), pp. 238\u201339.\n\nQuote from John Higham, _Strangers in the Land: Patterns of American Nativism,_ _1860\u20131925_ (New York: Atheneum, 1977), p. 55. Also see Gary Gerstle, _American Crucible: Race and Nation in the Twentieth Century_ (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2001), p. 102; and Louis Joughin and Edmund M. Morgan, _The Legacy of Sacco and_ _Vanzetti_ (New York: Harcourt, Brace & World, 1948), pp. 208\u20139.\n\nQuote from Edmund Wilson, _Letters on Literature and Politics_ (New York: Farrar, Straus & Giroux, 1977), p. 154.\n\nMartin J. Burke, _The Conundrum of Class: Public Discourse on the Social Order_ _in America_ (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1995), p. 161; and Boyer, _Urban_ _Masses and Moral Order,_ pp. 130\u201331.\n\nGeorge Pullman to Andrew Carnegie, May 5, 1886, Carnegie Papers, Vol. 9, Folio 1445, Library of Congress; and see Buder, _Pullman,_ pp. 33, 37, 140\u201342. _Triumphant Democracy_ quoted in _Chicago Tribune,_ May 5, 1886.\n\nOn Oglesby, see Mark A. Plummer, _Lincoln's Rail-Splitter: Governor Richard J._ _Oglesby_ (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 2001), pp. 178, 190\u201391; and quote in Carl S. Smith, \"Cataclysm and Cultural Consciousness: Chicago and the Haymarket Trial,\" _Chicago History_ 15 (Summer 1986), p. 46.\n\n **Chapter One \/ For Once in Common Front**\n\n_Chicago Tribune,_ May 2, 1865.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ May 2, 1865; Dorothy Meserve Kunhardt and Philip B. Kunhardt, Jr., _Twenty Days: A Narrative in Text and Pictures of the Assassination of Abraham_ _Lincoln and the Twenty Days and Nights That Followed_ (New York: Castle Books, 1993), p. 235; and quote from Sandburg, _Lincoln,_ p. 740.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ May 2, 1865; Pierce, _Chicago,_ Vol. 2, pp. 256, 504\u20135; Lincoln quoted in James McPherson, _Battle Cry of Freedom_ (New York: Oxford University Press, 1988), p. 28.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ May 2, 1865.\n\nQuote in Sandburg, _Lincoln,_ p. 742.\n\nFirst quote in Eric Foner, _The Story of American Freedom_ (New York: Norton, 1998), p. 100. Second quote from _Chicago Tribune,_ May 3, 1865.\n\nJames C. Sylvis, _The Life, Speeches, Labors and Essays of William H. Sylvis, Late_ _President of the Iron-Moulders' International Union and also of the National Labor Union_ (Philadelphia: Claxton, Remsen & Haffelfiner, 1872), pp. 129\u201330, 169.\n\nIbid., p. 129.\n\nIbid., p. 25. Also see David Montgomery, \"William H. Sylvis and the Search for Working-Class Citizenship,\" in Melvyn Dubofsky and Warren Van Tine, eds., _Labor_ _Leaders in America_ (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1987), pp. 3\u201329.\n\nSylvis, _The Life,_ pp. 31\u201332.\n\nOn antebellum labor history, see Norman Ware, _The Industrial Worker,_ _1840\u20131860_ (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1924); and Philip S. Foner, _History of the Labor_ _Movement in the United States_ (New York: International Publishers, 1947), Vol. 1.\n\nBruce Laurie, _Artisans into Workers: Labor in Nineteenth-Century America_ (New York: Hill & Wang, 1989), pp. 75\u201394, 103\u20136. In fact, no workers died in strike-related violence until 1850, when New York City police killed two German tailors. Edwin G. Burrows and Mike Wallace, _Gotham: A History of New York City to 1898_ (New York: Oxford University Press, 1999), p. 771.\n\nDavid Montgomery, _Beyond Equality: Labor and the Radical Republicans,_ _1862\u20131872_ (New York: Knopf, 1967), pp. 94\u201396; Pierce, _Chicago,_ Vol. 2, p. 157.\n\nSylvis, _The Life,_ p. 15; and P. Foner, _Labor Movement,_ Vol. 1, p. 348.\n\nP. Foner, _Labor Movement,_ Vol. 1, p. 348.\n\nRobert Ozanne, _A Century of Labor-Management Relations at McCormick and_ _International Harvester_ (Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1967), p. 5; Philip S. Foner and David R. Roediger, _Our Own Time: A History of American Labor and the Working Day_ (Westport, CT: Greenwood Press, 1989), p. 310, n. 46.\n\nQuote in P. Foner, _Labor Movement,_ Vol. 1, p. 361.\n\nJ. R. Green, _A Short History of the English People_ (London: Macmillan, 1921), pp. 519, 616; G. D. H. Cole, _A Short History of the British Working-Class Movement,_ _1789\u20131947_ (London: Allen & Unwin, 1948), pp. 95\u201396; Dorothy Thompson, _The_ _Chartists: Popular Politics in the Industrial Revolution_ (New York: Pantheon, 1984), pp. 116\u201321. Quote from E. P. Thompson, _Customs in Common: Studies in Traditional Popular Culture_ (New York: New Press, 1991), p. 830.\n\nOn Andrew Cameron, see Allen Johnson et al., _Dictionary of American Biography_ (New York: Scribner, 1937), pp. 433\u201334.\n\nIbid. Also see Richard Schneirov, \"Political Cultures and the Role of the State in Labor's Republic: A View from Chicago,\" _Labor History_ 32 (Summer 1991), pp. 387\u201393.\n\n _Workingman's Advocate,_ July 7, 1866.\n\n _Workingman's Advocate,_ April 28, 1866.\n\nMontgomery, _Beyond Equality,_ pp. 90\u201391.\n\nP. Foner and Roediger, _Our Own Time,_ p. 86. Also see Montgomery, _Beyond_ _Equality,_ pp. 254\u201355.\n\nP. Foner, _Labor Movement,_ Vol. 1, p. 364; Steward quoted in Montgomery, _Beyond_ _Equality,_ p. 251.\n\nGeorge McNeill, ed., _The Labor Movement: The Problem of Today_ (Boston: A. M. Bridgman & Co., 1886), p. 128; and P. Foner and Roediger, _Our Own Time,_ pp. 86, 108, 127.\n\nMarx quoted in P. Foner and Roediger, _Our Own Time,_ p. 82.\n\nPierce, _Chicago,_ Vol. 2, pp. 168, 174; _Workingman's Advocate,_ April 28, 1866.\n\nMontgomery, _Beyond Equality,_ p. 176; Sylvis, _The Life,_ pp. 349\u201350.\n\nQuotes from John R. Commons et al., eds., _Documentary History of American_ _Industrial Society_ (Cleveland: A. H. Clark, 1910), Vol. IX, p. 145.\n\nE. Foner, _American Freedom,_ pp. 99, 106.\n\nMontgomery, _Beyond Equality,_ p. 306; and Pierce, _Chicago,_ Vol. 2, p. 175.\n\nMcNeill, ed., _The Labor Movement,_ p. 130.\n\nQuote in Pierce, _Chicago,_ Vol. 2, p. 176.\n\n _Boston Daily Evening Voice,_ April 6, 1867, quoted in Montgomery, _Beyond_ _Equality,_ p. 307.\n\nQuote in Montgomery, _Beyond Equality,_ p. 254.\n\n _Workingman's Advocate,_ September 28, 1867.\n\nMiller, _City of the Century,_ p. 121.\n\n **Chapter Two \/ A Paradise for Workers and Speculators**\n\n_Chicago Tribune,_ May 16, 1866.\n\nMiller, _City of the Century,_ p. 114; William Cronon, _Nature's Metropolis: Chicago_ _and the Great West_ (New York: Norton, 1991), p. 230.\n\nMiller, _City of the Century,_ p. 89; Cronon, _Nature's Metropolis,_ p. 90; Pierce, _Chicago,_ Vol. 2, p. 50.\n\nCronon, _Nature's Metropolis,_ pp. 91\u201392.\n\nIbid., p. 91; Pierce, _Chicago,_ Vol. 2, pp. 67, 71, 81\u201382, 110, 158, and quote on p. 103; John B. Jentz, \"Class and Politics in an Emerging Industrial City: Chicago in the 1860s and 1870s,\" _Journal of Urban History_ 17 (May 1991), p. 231; Robin Einhorn, _Property Rules: Political Economy in Chicago, 1833\u20131872_ (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1991), p. 209; Ozanne, _Century,_ p. 5; and Arthur C. Cole, _The Era of the_ _Civil War_ (Springfield: Illinois State Historical Society, 1919), pp. 381\u201382.\n\nMiller, _City of the Century,_ p. 114; _Chicago Tribune,_ April 23, 1866; and see Cronon, _Nature's Metropolis,_ pp. 149, 163, 230.\n\nPierce, _Chicago,_ Vol. 2, p. 482; and Jentz, \"Class and Politics,\" pp. 231\u201332.\n\nQuote from Miller, _City of the Century,_ pp. 143\u201344.\n\n_Workingman's Advocate,_ April 28, 1866.\n\nMontgomery, _Beyond Equality,_ pp. 231, 248, 254\u201357, 380\u201381.\n\nQuote ibid., p. 308.\n\nDescription from _Illinois Staats-Zeitung,_ May 2, 3, 1867, quoted in Hartmut Keil and John B. Jentz, \"German Working Class Culture in Chicago,\" _Gulliver_ 9 (1981), pp. 254\u201355, 257.\n\nOzanne, _Century,_ pp. 6\u20137, including quote; and Montgomery, _Beyond Equality,_ pp. 309\u201310.\n\nPierce, _Chicago,_ Vol. 2, pp. 178, 258, 505; and Montgomery, _Beyond Equality,_ p. 309.\n\nMontgomery, _Beyond Equality,_ p. 310.\n\nPierce, _Chicago,_ Vol. 2, p. 179.\n\nMontgomery, _Beyond Equality,_ pp. 310\u201311; and Montgomery, \"William H. Sylvis,\" p. 15.\n\nPierce, _Chicago,_ Vol. 2, p. 179; Montgomery, _Beyond Equality,_ pp. 226\u201327; and _Workingman's Advocate,_ August 17, September 28, 1867.\n\nMontgomery, _Beyond Equality,_ p. 227.\n\nP. Foner, _Labor Movement,_ Vol. 1, pp. 376\u201377.\n\n _Workingman's Advocate,_ July 4, 1868.\n\nMontgomery, _Beyond Equality,_ p. 263.\n\nPierce, _Chicago,_ Vol. 2, p. 185; and _Workingman's Advocate,_ April 24, 1869.\n\nCharlotte Todes, _William H. Sylvis and the National Labor Union_ (New York: International Publishers, 1942), pp. 74\u201376.\n\nIbid., pp. 75, 106\u20139.\n\nPierce, _Chicago,_ Vol. 2, pp. 18, 159; Jentz, \"Class and Politics,\" pp. 235, 237\u201338, 241, 243; and see Richard Schneirov, _Labor and Urban Politics: Class Conflict_ _and the Origins of Modern Liberalism in Chicago, 1864\u201397_ (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1998), pp. 38\u201339, 54.\n\n\"Annual Report of the Agent of the German Society of Chicago,\" April 1, 1870, quoted in Hartmut Keil and John B. Jentz, eds., _German Workers in Chicago: A Documentary History of Working-Class Culture from 1850 to World War I_ (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1998), p. 40.\n\nIbid., pp. 39\u201340; and Miller, _City of the Century,_ p. 135.\n\nMiller, _City of the Century,_ p. 134.\n\nEinhorn, _Property Rules,_ Table 1, Property Ownership, p. 250. Mean total wealth in 1870 was $19,257 for native-born, $2,475 for German, $2,580 for Irish and $2,227 for Scandinavian. Edward Bubnys, \"Nativity and the Distribution of Wealth: Chicago, 1870,\" _Explorations in Economic History_ 19 (April 1982), Tables 2 and 3, pp. 104\u20135.\n\nMiller, _City of the Century,_ pp. 120, 127\u201331.\n\nAlfred T. Andreas, _History of Chicago from the Earliest Period to the Present_ _Time_ (New York: Arno Press, 1975), Vol. 2, pp. 769, 775; Paul Andrew Hutton, _Phil_ _Sheridan and His Army_ (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1985), pp. 117, 153. Bismarck quoted in Miller, _City of the Century,_ p. 131.\n\nQuote in Miller, _City of the Century,_ p. 121.\n\nTwain's novel _The Gilded Age_ was published in 1874. See H. Wayne Morgan, \"An Age in Need of Reassessment,\" in H. Wayne Morgan, ed., _The Gilded Age: A Reappraisal_ (Syracuse: Syracuse University Press, 1963), p. 1. Whitman quoted in John Tipple, \"The Robber Baron in the Gilded Age,\" in Morgan, ed., _Gilded Age,_ p. 32.\n\nWalt Whitman, \"Democratic Vistas,\" reprinted in Perry Miller, ed., _Major Writers of America_ (New York: Harcourt, Brace & World, 1962), Vol. 1, pp. 1086\u201387, 1104.\n\nIbid., pp. 1087, 1100. Last Whitman quote in Robert Falk, \"The Writers' Search for Lost Reality,\" in Morgan, ed., _Gilded Age,_ p. 200.\n\n **Chapter Three \/ We May Not Always Be So Secure**\n\nSee Frank Jellinek, _The Paris Commune of 1871_ (1937; reprint, New York: Grosset & Dunlap, 1965), pp. 61\u2013173; quote on p. 90.\n\nPhilip M. Katz, _From Appomattox to Montmarte: Americans and the Paris Commune_ (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1998), pp. 18\u201319.\n\nQuote ibid.\n\nJellinek, _Paris Commune,_ pp. 338\u201370.\n\nKatz, _From Appomattox,_ pp. 69, 71, 75, 83, 85.\n\nSee Richard Slotkin, _Gunfighter Nation: The Myth of the Frontier in Twentieth-Century America_ (New York: Atheneum, 1992), pp. 91\u201392.\n\nQuote from Katz, _From Appomattox,_ pp. 149, 153\u201354.\n\n_Workingman's Advocate,_ July 8, 1871.\n\n _Workingman's Advocate,_ July 8, 1871; and Karl Marx's _The Civil War in France,_ in _Workingman's Advocate,_ July 17, 1871.\n\n_Workingman's Advocate,_ July 8, August 19, 1871.\n\nPierce, _Chicago,_ Vol. 3, p. 191.\n\nQuotes in Miller, _City of the Century,_ pp. 159, 171; and Karen Sawislak, _Smoldering City: Chicagoans and the Great Fire, 1871\u20131874_ (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1995), p. 44.\n\nSmith, _Urban Disorder_ (see Prologue, n. 14), p. 49.\n\nQuote ibid., p. 51. I have relied here upon Smith's discussion of the hanging rumors, ibid., pp. 53, 55\u201357.\n\nSee ibid., p. 34.\n\nIbid., pp. 33, 71, 73.\n\nMiller, _City of the Century,_ p. 164; and Einhorn, _Property Rules,_ p. 234.\n\nSawislak, _Smoldering City,_ pp. 79, 44; and Miller, _City of the Century,_ p. 167.\n\nQuotes in Katz, _From Appomattox,_ pp. 124\u201325.\n\nQuote ibid., p. 125.\n\nEinhorn, _Property Rules,_ pp. 235\u201336.\n\nSawislak, _Smoldering City,_ p. 44. Also see Miller, _City of the Century,_ pp. 134, 147\u201348.\n\nEinhorn, _Property Rules,_ p. 236.\n\nSawislak, _Smoldering City,_ p. 93. On Medill, see Nord, \"The Public Community,\" p. 423; Einhorn, _Property Rules,_ p. 236.\n\nQuote in Einhorn, _Property Rules,_ p. 236.\n\nIbid., pp. 236, 239, 250.\n\nJohn J. Flinn, _History of the Chicago Police from the Settlement of the Community_ _to the Present Time_ (Chicago: Police Book Fund, 1887), pp. 137\u201338, 140.\n\nQuote from ibid., pp. 142, 144.\n\nJentz, \"Class and Politics,\" p. 261.\n\nQuote ibid., p. 248.\n\nSee Schneirov, _Labor and Urban Politics,_ p. 61; Einhorn, _Property Rules,_ pp. 219\u201321, 226\u201327.\n\nQuote in Pierce, _Chicago,_ Vol. 3, pp. 19, 194.\n\nKatz, _From Appomattox,_ p. 169.\n\nPierce, _Chicago,_ Vol. 3, pp. 194, 196, 240\u201341.\n\nEinhorn, _Property Rules,_ pp. 233\u201334, Sawislak, _Smoldering City,_ pp. 87\u201388, 97; and Miller, _City of the Century,_ pp. 162\u201363.\n\nQuote from Floyd Dell, \"Socialism and Anarchism in Chicago,\" in J. Seymour Currey, ed., _Chicago: Its History and Its Builders_ (Chicago: S. J. Clarke Publishing Co., 1912), p. 366.\n\nIbid., p. 365. Horace White quoted in Bruce C. Nelson, _Beyond the Martyrs: A_ _Social History of Chicago's Anarchists_ (New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press, 1988), p. 53.\n\nNelson, _Beyond the Martyrs,_ p. 53; and quote in Herbert Gutman, \"The Workers' Search for Power,\" in Morgan, ed., _Gilded Age,_ pp. 61\u201363.\n\nSchneirov, _Labor and Urban Politics,_ p. 54; _Chicago Tribune,_ December 23, 24, 25, 29, 1873, January 2, 1874.\n\nQuotes from Schneirov, _Labor and Urban Politics,_ p. 58; and Pierce, _Chicago,_ Vol. 3, p. 345.\n\nNelson, _Beyond the Martyrs,_ pp. 53\u201354.\n\nMorris Hillquit, _History of Socialism in America_ (New York: Russell & Russell, 1965), p. 186.\n\nNelson, _Beyond the Martyrs,_ p. 54.\n\nJentz, \"Class and Politics,\" p. 249.\n\nSee Schneirov, _Labor and Urban Politics,_ p. 57; Ozanne, _Century,_ p. 8; and quotes from Gutman, \"Workers' Search,\" p. 45.\n\nQuotes from Gutman, \"Workers' Search,\" p. 45.\n\nSchneirov, _Labor and Urban Politics,_ p. 59.\n\n **Chapter 4 \/ A Liberty-Thirsty People**\n\nMichael J. Schaack, _Anarchy and Anarchists_ (Chicago: Shulte & Co, 1889), p. 49.\n\nOn southern migrants to Chicago, see Pierce, _Chicago,_ Vol. 3, p. 21.\n\nOn the Levee District, see Richard C. Lindberg, _Chicago Ragtime: Another Look_ _at Chicago, 1880\u20131920_ (South Bend, IN: Icarus Press, 1985), pp. 119\u201320.\n\nPierce, _Chicago,_ Vol. 3, p. 408.\n\nNord, \"The Public Community,\" pp. 416\u201317.\n\nIbid., pp. 419\u201321, and quote on pp. 431\u201332.\n\nAlbert R. Parsons, \"Autobiography of Albert R. Parsons,\" in Philip S. Foner, ed., _The Autobiographies of the Haymarket Martyrs_ (New York: Humanities Press, 1969), p. 30.\n\nIbid., p. 27.\n\nIbid., pp. 29\u201331.\n\nSee W. E. B. DuBois, _Black Reconstruction_ (New York: Harcourt, Brace & Co., 1935), pp. 553, 556. By the middle of 1868 more than 400 Texas blacks had been killed in the violence, most of them murdered by white desperadoes. Some white men died as well, including some racists killed by army and militiamen, and some northerners, like seven men from Illinois murdered by a mob because they were carpetbaggers. See Randolph B. Campbell, _Grass-Roots Reconstruction in Texas, 1865\u20131880_ (Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press, 1997), pp. 17\u201318, 165, 176\u201378, 184.\n\nAlbert Parsons to George A. Schilling, in Lucy Parsons, ed., _The Life of Albert R._ _Parsons_ (Chicago: Lucy Parsons, 1903), p. 217; and A. Parsons, \"Autobiography,\" p. 29.\n\nCampbell, _Grass-Roots Reconstruction,_ pp. 17\u201320.\n\nParsons to Schilling in L. Parsons, _The Life,_ p. 216.\n\nCampbell, _Grass-Roots Reconstruction,_ pp. 19\u201320; A. Parsons to Schilling in L. Parsons, _The Life,_ p. 218; and A. Parsons, \"Autobiography,\" p. 29.\n\nA. Parsons, \"Autobiography,\" pp. 29\u201330.\n\nCarolyn Ashbaugh, _Lucy Parsons: American Revolutionary_ (Chicago: Charles H. Kerr, 1976), pp. 14, 268; and _Chicago Tribune,_ July 22, 1886.\n\nAshbaugh, _Lucy Parsons,_ pp. 14, 268; and Rima Lunin Schultz and Adele Hast, \"Lucy Parsons,\" in Rima Lunin Schultz and Adele Hast, eds., _Women Building Chicago,_ _1790\u20131990: A Biographical Dictionary_ (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2001), pp. 668\u201369.\n\nLucy Parsons quoted in Avrich, _Tragedy,_ p. 11.\n\nDuBois, _Black Reconstruction,_ pp. 561, 624, 684, 708.\n\nWilliam J. Adelman, _Haymarket Revisited: A Tour Guide of Labor History Sites_ _and Ethnic Neighborhoods Connected with the Haymarket Affair_ (Chicago: Illinois Labor History Society, 1976), pp. 65\u201375; and Christine Harzig, \"Chicago's German North Side, 1880\u20131900: The Structure of a Gilded Age Ethnic Neighborhood,\" in Hartmut Keil and John B. Jentz, eds., _German Workers in Industrial Chicago, 1850\u20131910: A Comparative_ _Portrait_ (DeKalb: Northern Illinois University Press, 1983), pp. 127\u201344.\n\nUnited States Department of the Interior, Census Office, _Statistics of the Population of the United States at the Tenth Census, 1880_ (Washington, DC: Government Printing Office, 1883), pp. 417, 448.\n\nUnited States Department of the Interior, Census Office, _Statistics of the Population of the United States at the Eleventh Census, 1890_ (Washington, DC: Government Printing Office, 1893), p. 374; United States Department of the Interior, Census Office, _Report on the Manufactures of the United States at the Tenth Census, 1880_ (Washington, DC: Government Printing Office, 1883), p. 870. Quote in Bruce Carlan Levine, \"Free Soil, Free Labor, and _Freimanner:_ German Chicago in the Civil War Era,\" in Keil and Jentz, eds., _German Workers in Industrial Chicago,_ pp. 176\u201377.\n\nHartmut Keil, \"Chicago's German Working Class,\" in Keil and Jentz, eds., _German Workers in Industrial Chicago,_ pp. 28, 31; Harzig, \"Chicago's German North Side,\" p. 129.\n\nThe following account is based on August Spies, \"Autobiography of August Spies,\" in P. Foner, _Autobiographies,_ pp. 59\u201369.\n\nQuotes ibid., p. 66.\n\n _Manufactures at the Tenth Census,_ p. 392.\n\nKeil and Jentz, eds., _German Workers, Documentary,_ pp. 170, 175\u201376; Hartmut Keil, \"Immigrant Neighborhoods and American Society: German Immigrants on Chicago's Northwest Side in the Late Nineteenth Century,\" in Hartmut Keil, ed., _German_ _Workers' Culture in the United States, 1850 to 1920_ (Washington, DC: Smithsonian Institution Press, 1988), pp. 25\u201358.\n\nPierce, _Chicago,_ Vol. 3, pp. 22\u201323; Keil and Jentz, eds., _German Workers, Documentary,_ pp. 34, 170\u201371, 176.\n\nPierce, _Chicago,_ Vol. 3, p. 23; and Keil and Jentz, eds., _German Workers, Documentary,_ pp. 160\u201368, 176\u201381.\n\nAvrich, _Tragedy,_ p. 123.\n\nKathleen Neils Conzen, \"Ethnicity as Festive Culture: Nineteenth-Century German America on Parade,\" in Werner Sollors, ed., _The Invention of Ethnicity_ (New York: Oxford University Press, 1989), pp. 49\u201350.\n\nPierce, _Chicago,_ Vol. 3, p. 489.\n\nHartmut Keil and Heinz Ickstadt, \"Elements of German Working-Class Culture in Chicago, 1880 to 1990,\" and Christine Heiss, \"Popular and Working-Class German Theater in Chicago, 1870\u20131910,\" in Keil, ed., _German Workers' Culture,_ pp. 94\u201395, 181\u2013202; Christa Carajal, \"German-American Theater,\" in Maxine Schwartz Seller, ed., _Ethnic Theater in the United States_ (Westport, CT: Greenwood Press, 1983), pp. 178\u201379, 183, 185.\n\n _Manufactures at the Tenth Census,_ p. 540; Pierce, _Chicago,_ Vol. 3, p. 31; and Odd S. Lovoll, \"A Scandinavian Melting Pot in Chicago,\" in Philip J. Anderson and Dag Blanck, eds., _Swedish-American Life in Chicago: Culture and Urban Aspects of an Immigrant People, 1850\u20131930_ (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1992), p. 62.\n\nQuote in Pierce, _Chicago,_ Vol. 3, pp. 28\u201329; Lovoll, \"Scandinavian Melting Pot,\" p. 63; S. N. D. North, _The Newspaper and Periodical Press at the Tenth Census,_ _1880_ (Washington, DC: Government Printing Office, 1884), p. 221.\n\nLovoll, \"Scandinavian Melting Pot,\" p. 60; and see Robert H. Wiebe, _Who We_ _Are: A History of Popular Nationalism_ (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2002), pp. 65\u201372.\n\nConzen, \"Ethnicity as Festive Culture,\" pp. 45, 63, 65.\n\nPierce, _Chicago,_ Vol. 3, p. 345.\n\nSchneirov, _Labor and Urban Politics,_ pp. 53, 59; Flinn, _Chicago Police,_ p. 148.\n\nSchneirov, _Labor and Urban Politics,_ p. 59; Pierce, _Chicago,_ Vol. 3, p. 253; Christine Heiss, \"German Radicals in Industrial America: The _Lehr-und-wehr Verein_ in Gilded Age Chicago,\" in Keil and Jentz, eds., _German Workers in Industrial Chicago,_ pp. 211, 214, 224.\n\nHeiss, \"German Radicals,\" p. 214.\n\nSpies, \"Autobiography,\" p. 67.\n\nMedill quoted in Wayne Andrews, _Battle for Chicago_ (New York: Harcourt, Brace & Co., 1946), p. 68; A. Parsons, \"Autobiography,\" pp. 30\u201331; Parsons quoted in John D. Lawson, ed., _American State Trials_ (St. Louis: F. H. Thomas Law Book Co., 1919), p. 310.\n\nGeorge A. Schilling, \"A History of the Labor Movement in Chicago,\" in L. Parsons, _The Life,_ p. xxii.\n\nIbid., p. xxiii. On Schilling, see Hartmut Keil, \"The German Immigrant Working Class of Chicago, 1875\u201390: Workers, Labor Leaders and the Labor Movement,\" in Dirk Hoerder, ed., _American Labor and Immigration History, 1877\u20131920s: Recent European_ _Research_ (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1983), pp. 165\u201366.\n\nAvrich, _Tragedy,_ p. 23. On southwestern humor, see Falk, \"Writers' Search for Lost Reality,\" in Morgan, ed., _Gilded Age,_ p. 215.\n\nAvrich, _Tragedy,_ p. 22; _Chicago Tribune,_ quoted in Pierce, _Chicago,_ Vol. 3, p. 244; A. Parsons, \"Autobiography,\" p. 31.\n\n **Chapter Five \/ The Inevitable Uprising**\n\nQuotes from Flinn, _Chicago Police,_ pp. 157\u201358, 202.\n\nAdvertisement in _Frank Leslie's Illustrated Newspaper,_ April 7, 1877, reprinted in Joshua Freeman et al., _From the Gilded Age to the Present,_ Vol. 2 of _Who Built America?_ _Working People and the Nation's Economy, Politics, Culture, and Society_ (New York: Pantheon, 1992), p. 26.\n\nPierce, _Chicago,_ Vol. 3, p. 477.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ July 4, 1876.\n\nWilliam J. Adelman, _Pilsen and the West Side: A Tour Guide_ (Chicago: Illinois Labor History Society, 1983), revised 1983 version, photocopy in the author's possession, courtesy of the Illinois Labor History Society.\n\nRichard Schneirov, \"Free Thought and Socialism in the Czech Community in Chicago, 1875\u20131887,\" in Dirk Hoerder, ed., \" _Struggle a Hard Battle_ \": _Essays on_ _Working-Class Immigrants_ (DeKalb: Northern Illinois University Press, 1986), pp. 123\u201324, 127, 129, 133. Quote from Pierce, _Chicago,_ Vol. 3, p. 33.\n\nSchneirov, \"Free Thought,\" pp. 125, 128, 133. On Czech socialist exiles in Chicago, see Thomas Capek, _The Czechs_ ( _Bohemians_ ) _in America: A Study of Their_ _National, Cultural, Political, Social, Economic, and Religious Life_ (New York: Houghton Mifflin, 1920), pp. 140, 148.\n\nSchneirov, \"Free Thought,\" p. 126; and Schneirov, Labor and Urban Politics, p. 103.\n\nFlinn, _Chicago Police,_ p. 151.\n\nIbid.; Schneirov, \"Free Thought,\" p. 133.\n\nFlinn, _Chicago Police,_ pp. 151, 158.\n\nIbid., pp. 158\u201359.\n\nIbid.\n\nIbid., p. 159; Ashbaugh, _Lucy Parsons,_ pp. 17\u201318.\n\nNelson, _Beyond the Martyrs,_ p. 55; Schilling, \"Labor Movement in Chicago,\" pp. xvi\u2013xxvii.\n\nPierce, _Chicago,_ Vol. 3, pp. 254, 346, 351, 539; Flinn, _Chicago Police,_ p. 15; Schneirov, \"Free Thought,\" p. 197; and Nelson, _Beyond the Martyrs,_ pp. 103, 140.\n\nRichard Digby-Junger, _The Journalist as Reformer: Henry Demarest Lloyd and_ _Wealth Against Commonwealth_ (Westport, CT: Greenwood Press, 1996), pp. 21\u201348; and John L. Thomas, _Alternative America: Henry George, Edward Bellamy, Henry Demarest_ _Lloyd, and the Adversary Tradition_ (Cambridge, MA: Belknap Press, 1983), p. 77.\n\nSee Robert V. Bruce, _1877: Year of Violence_ (Indianapolis: Bobbs-Merrill, 1959), pp. 74\u2013114.\n\nQuotes from Flinn, _Chicago Police,_ pp. 154, 159\u201360.\n\nIbid., p. 159.\n\nPierce, _Chicago,_ Vol. 3, p. 246; Schneirov, _Labor and Urban Politics,_ p. 71. Handbill reproduced in Schneirov, _Labor and Urban Politics,_ following p. 98.\n\nFlinn, _Chicago Police,_ pp. 160\u201361; Schneirov, _Labor and Urban Politics,_ p. 71.\n\nSchilling, \"Labor Movement in Chicago,\" p. xviii. See Avrich, _Tragedy,_ pp. 29\u201330; Schneirov, _Labor and Urban Politics,_ p. 72; and A. Parsons, \"Autobiography,\" p.\n\nSpeech quoted in Adelman, _Pilsen,_ p. 13.\n\nThe following account of the railroad strike in Chicago is based on Bruce, _1877,_ pp. 235\u201353.\n\nMiller, _City of the Century,_ p. 232.\n\nBruce, _1877,_ pp. 239\u201340; Flinn, _Chicago Police,_ p. 165.\n\nSchneirov, _Labor and Urban Politics,_ p. 73.\n\nIbid., pp. 74, 105\u201310.\n\nQuoted in Pierce, _Chicago,_ Vol. 3, p. 250.\n\nSpies, \"Autobiography,\" p. 68.\n\nAdelman, _Pilsen,_ p. 50.\n\nMiller, _City of the Century,_ p. 233; Flinn, _Chicago Police,_ pp. 199, 208.\n\nPierce, _Chicago,_ Vol. 3, p. 251.\n\n _Chicago Tribune_ quoted in Flinn, _Chicago Police,_ p. 203; and see Richard C. Marohn, \"The Arming of the Chicago Police in the Nineteenth Century,\" _Chicago History_ 11 (Spring 1982), pp. 42, 44, 46.\n\nWolfgang Abendroth, _A Short History of the European Working Class_ (New York: Monthly Review Press, 1972), p. 40.\n\nFor a revealing study of how widespread the uprising of 1877 became and how it pulled thousands of nonstrikers from local communities into the protesting crowds, including many middle-class city dwellers who had been alienated from the railroad companies by their invasion and destruction of urban space, see David O. Stowell, _Streets, Railroads, and the Great Strike of 1877_ (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1999).\n\nMcNeill, ed., _The Labor Movement,_ pp. 459\u201360.\n\nL. Parsons, _The Life,_ p. 120; McNeill, ed., _The Labor Movement,_ pp. 459\u201361.\n\nGompers, _Seventy Years_ (see Prologue, n. 16), pp. 46\u201347.\n\nThe following account is from A. Parsons, \"Autobiography,\" pp. 32\u201334.\n\n **Chapter Six \/ The Flame That Makes the Kettle Boil**\n\nSchilling, \"Labor Movement in Chicago,\" p. xviii; and see Nelson, _Beyond the_ _Martyrs,_ pp. 57\u201358.\n\nQuote in Nelson, _Beyond the Martyrs,_ p. 58.\n\nIbid.\n\nIbid.\n\nHeiss, \"German Radicals in Industrial America\" (see chap. 4, n. 40), pp. 216, 219\u201320. A. Parsons quoted in _Chicago Tribune,_ April 26, 1878.\n\nQuotes in Schneirov, _Labor and Urban Politics,_ p. 87; and Nelson, _Beyond the_ _Martyrs,_ p. 59.\n\nAshbaugh, _Lucy Parsons,_ p. 34.\n\nNelson, _Beyond the Martyrs,_ p. 60.\n\nHarzig, \"Chicago's German North Side\" (see chap. 4, n. 20), p. 218; and Schilling, \"Labor Movement in Chicago,\" p. xix.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ March 23, 1879.\n\nNelson, _Beyond the Martyrs,_ pp. 62\u201364; quote in Schilling, \"Labor Movement in Chicago,\" p. xix.\n\nSchneirov, _Labor and Urban Politics,_ p. 91. The Socialistic Labor Party sent three more members to the Common Council, where they worked with Democratic aldermen to employ factory inspectors, to abolish labor for children under twelve years old, to open public baths and water closets and to gain funding for new public schools and reading rooms.\n\nMeredith Tax, _The Rising of the Women: Feminist Solidarity and Class Conflict,_ _1880\u20131917_ (New York: Monthly Review Press, 1981), p. 41; Avrich, _Tragedy,_ p. 150; Blaine McKinley, \"Holmes, Lizzie May Swank,\" in Schultz and Hast, eds., _Women_ _Building Chicago_ (see chap. 4, n. 17), p. 400.\n\nSee Ashbaugh, _Lucy Parsons,_ pp. 33\u201336; Schilling, \"Labor Movement in Chicago,\" p. xx; Nelson, _Beyond the Martyrs,_ pp. 67\u201368; quote from A. Parsons, \"Autobiography,\" p. 36.\n\nHartmut Keil, \"German Working-Class Radicalism in the United States from the 1870s to World War I,\" in Hoerder, \" _Struggle a Hard Battle,_ \" pp. 81\u201382; Nelson, _Beyond_ _the Martyrs,_ pp. 33\u201334.\n\nHarzig, \"Chicago's German North Side,\" pp. 217\u201318.\n\nA. Parsons, \"Autobiography,\" p. 36; and see August Spies, \"The Right to Bear Arms,\" _Alarm,_ January 9, 1886.\n\nOscar Neebe, \"Autobiography of Oscar Neebe,\" in P. Foner, _Autobiographies,_ p. 165.\n\nPierce, _Chicago,_ Vol. 3, p. 259.\n\nQuote in Avrich, _Tragedy,_ p. 59.\n\nJames Joll, _The Anarchists_ (London: Eyre & Spottswoode, 1963), pp. 120\u201324; Barbara Tuchman, _The Proud Tower: A Portrait of the World Before the War, 1890\u20131914_ (New York: Macmillan, 1966), p. 76.\n\nJoll, _The Anarchists,_ pp. 124\u201325.\n\nAvrich, _Tragedy,_ p. 58.\n\n _Population at the Eleventh Census,_ p. 374; and see Einhorn, _Property Rules,_ p. 249.\n\nQuote in Nelson, _Beyond the Martyrs,_ pp. 15\u201316. During the 1880s, Chicago's Bohemian population increased to 25,105, the Polish population to 24,086, the Norwegian to 21,835, the British and Scottish to 47,149, the Swedish to 43,032 and the German to 161,039. Furthermore, the Irish kept coming, increasing their numbers to 70,028; _Population at the Eleventh Census,_ pp. 671\u201372. On Poles and Russian Jews, see Pierce, Vol. 3, pp. 34\u201339; Dominic A. Pacyga, _Polish Immigrants and Industrial Chicago: Workers on the South Side, 1880\u20131922_ (Columbus: Ohio State University Press, 1991); and Edward Mazur, \"Jewish Chicago: From _Shtetl_ to Suburb,\" in Melvin G. Holli and Peter d'A. Jones, eds., _Ethnic Chicago_ (Grand Rapids, MI: W. B. Eerdmans, 1977), pp. 73\u201375.\n\nNelson, _Beyond the Martyrs,_ pp. 67, 69, 85, 96; Howard H. Quint, _The Forging_ _of American Socialism_ (Columbia: University of South Carolina Press, 1953), p. 35; Keil and Jentz, eds., _German Workers, Documentary,_ p. 407; Gary P. Steenson, \" _Not One_ _Man! Not One Penny!_ \": _German Social Democracy, 1863\u20131914_ (Pittsburgh: University of Pittsburgh Press, 1981), pp. 30\u201331.\n\nSee Schwab's life story in Michael Schwab, \"Autobiography of Michael Schwab,\" in P. Foner, _Autobiographies,_ pp. 99\u2013121 (quote from p. 109).\n\nQuotes in P. Foner, _Autobiographies,_ pp. 112, 120\u201321, 123\u201324.\n\nAvrich, _Tragedy,_ p. 62.\n\nIbid., pp. 63\u201364; David Roediger and Franklin Rosemont, eds., _Haymarket_ _Scrapbook_ (Chicago: Charles H. Kerr, 1986), p. 137.\n\nAvrich, _Tragedy,_ p. 64.\n\nBruce, _1877,_ pp. 193, 318.\n\nAvrich, _Tragedy,_ p. 24. And see Robert Weir, _Beyond Labor's Veil: The Culture of_ _the Knights of Labor_ (University Park: Pennsylvania State University Press, 1996), p. 32.\n\nA. Parsons, \"Autobiography,\" p. 37; P. Foner and Roediger, _Our Own Time,_ pp. 132, 137, and quote on p. 121; \"Statistics on German Bakers,\" _Arbeiter-Zeitung,_ January 26, 1882, translation in Keil and Jentz, eds., _German Workers, Documentary,_ p. 81; John R. Commons, _History of Labor in the United States_ (New York: Macmillan, 1918), Vol. 2, p. 250, n. 8.\n\nQuotes in Schneirov, _Labor and Urban Politics,_ pp. 78, 128\u201329.\n\nIbid.\n\nSee Nelson, _Beyond the Martyrs,_ p. 48; United States Department of the Interior, Census Office, _Report on Manufacturing Industries in the United States at the Eleventh_ _Census, 1890_ (Washington, DC: Government Printing Office, 1895), pp. 133\u201342; \"The Fate of Women Workers,\" from _Arbeiter-Zeitung,_ January 16, 1882, in Keil and Jentz, eds., _German Workers, Documentary,_ p. 81; and Schneirov, _Labor and Urban Politics,_ p. 197. On female carpet weavers and other \"lady Knights,\" see Susan Levine, _Labor's True_ _Woman: Carpet Weavers, Industrialization, and Labor Reform in the Gilded Age_ (Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1984).\n\n _Harper's Weekly,_ July 22, 1883; Henry F. May, _Protestant Churches and Industrial_ _America_ (New York: Harper, 1949), p. 97.\n\nSchilling, \"Labor Movement in Chicago,\" p. xxiii.\n\nNorman Ware, _The Labor Movement in the United States, 1860\u20131895: A Study in_ _Democracy_ (New York and London: D. Appleton & Co., 1929), pp. 129, 131.\n\nSchneirov, _Labor and Urban Politics,_ p. 129; Nelson, _Beyond the Martyrs,_ p. 39.\n\nQuote from A. Parsons, \"Autobiography,\" pp. 39\u201340.\n\nQuote ibid., pp. 38\u201339, 41.\n\nQuotes from Spies, \"Autobiography,\" pp. 68\u201369, and from A. Parsons, \"Autobiography,\" p. 47.\n\n **Chapter Seven \/ A Brutal and Inventive Vitality**\n\nOn the railroads, see Miller, _City of the Century,_ pp. 182, 241\u201342; and on the iron industry, the Union Steel Co. and other producers, see A. T. Andreas, _History of Chicago_ _from the Earliest Period to the Present Time_ (Chicago: A. T. Andreas, 1885), Vol. 2, pp. 673\u2013700.\n\nThe value of capital invested in the city's ten leading industries rose from $40.5 million to $247.7 million, while the force of wage earners in these sectors grew from roughly 42,000 to 101,000. The value added by these manufacturing firms (after subtracting the value of materials) soared from $38.2 million to $810.7 million. Wages in the aggregate grew, but modestly, from a yearly average of $478 per worker in 1880 to $607 a decade later. If the cost of materials and the cost of wages are subtracted from the total value of manufactured goods, then \"value added\" multiplied twenty-seven times\u2014from $27.7 million to $760.3 million, while wages paid grew from $19.3 million to $58 million. Based on census figures compiled in Nelson, _Beyond the Martyrs,_ pp. 12\u201313, and Pierce, _Chicago,_ Vol. 3, pp. 534\u201335. Quote from Sigfried Giedion, _Mechanization Takes_ _Command: A Contribution to Anonymous History_ (New York: Oxford University Press, 1948), p. 218.\n\nSaul Bellow quoted in frontispiece of Miller, _City of the Century._\n\nRudyard Kipling, _American Notes_ (New York: F. F. Lovell, 1890), p. 149; Upton Sinclair, _The Jungle_ (New York: Signet, 1905), pp. 39\u201342; and Giedion, _Mechanization_ _Takes Command,_ p. 218.\n\nU.S. Department of the Interior, Census Office, _Report on the Manufactures of the_ _United States at the Ninth Census, 1870_ (Washington, DC: Government Printing Office, 1872), p. 849; _Manufactures at the Tenth Census,_ pp. 391\u201393; _Report on Manufacturing,_ _1890,_ Part I, Statistics of Cities, pp. 130\u201345; Pierce, _Chicago,_ Vol. 3, p. 112, n. 11.\n\nMiller, _City of the Century,_ pp. 211\u201313; Giedion, _Mechanization Takes Command,_ p. 218; Schneirov, _Labor and Urban Politics,_ p. 107.\n\nMiller, _City of the Century,_ p. 223.\n\nOzanne, _Century,_ pp. 5\u20137, 9\u201310.\n\nQuote in Herbert Gutman, _Work, Culture and Society in Industrializing America_ (New York: Knopf, 1976), p. 46.\n\nIbid., pp. 10\u201311; Schneirov, _Labor and Urban Politics,_ pp. 187\u201390.\n\nFrom Keil and Jentz, \"German Working-Class Culture in Chicago,\" pp. 128\u201347. During the 1880s, capital investment grew from $8.4 million to $38.9 million in slaughtering, from $7.2 million to $14.7 million in men's clothing, from $4.5 million to $25.6 million in foundry and machine works. Pierce, _Chicago,_ Vol. 3, pp. 534\u201335.\n\nNelson, _Beyond the Martyrs,_ p. 13; Gutman, _Work, Culture and Society,_ p. 37; Schneirov, _Labor and Urban Politics,_ pp. 119, 189.\n\nNelson, _Beyond the Martyrs,_ p. 24. Also see David Montgomery, _Workers' Control_ _in America: Studies in the History of Work, Technology, and Labor Struggles_ (New York: Cambridge University Press, 1979), pp. 9\u201319.\n\n _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ quoted in Keil and Jentz, eds., _German Workers, Documentary,_ p. 78.\n\nIbid.; Nelson, _Beyond the Martyrs,_ Table 4.3, p. 87, and Table 4.4, p. 89; Keil and Jentz, eds., _German Workers, Documentary,_ p. 72.\n\nNewspaper articles reprinted in Keil and Jentz, eds., _German Workers, Documentary,_ pp. 56\u201357, 59, 72, 78\u201379, 81, 82, 88.\n\nMontgomery, _Workers' Control in America,_ pp. 12\u201313.\n\nSee ibid., first quote from p. 13. Also see Laurie, _Artisans into Workers_ (see chap. 1, n. 12), pp. 102, 110\u201311, 162; and P. Foner, _Labor Movement_ (see chap 1, n. 11), Vol. 2, pp. 56\u201374.\n\nSee David Montgomery, _Citizen Worker: The Experience of Workers in the United_ _States with Democracy and the Free Market During the Nineteenth Century_ (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993), pp. 130\u201362.\n\nGompers, _Seventy Years,_ pp. 62, 72\u201373.\n\nIbid., p. 62; quote in Gutman, _Work, Culture and Society,_ p. 37.\n\nFranklin E. Coyne, _The Development of the Cooperage Industry in the United_ _States, 1620\u20131940_ (Chicago: Lumber Buyers Publishing Co., 1940), pp. 21\u201322; Gutman, _Work, Culture and Society,_ p. 46.\n\nSchwab, \"Autobiography,\" p. 114.\n\n _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ quoted in Keil and Jentz, eds., _German Workers, Documentary,_ pp. 55\u201356.\n\nQuote in P. Foner, _Labor Movement,_ Vol. 1, p. 514.\n\nNelson, _Beyond the Martyrs,_ pp. 41\u201342, and quote p. 44.\n\nIbid., p. 95; Schneirov, \"Free Thought,\" pp. 126\u201327. Also see Schneirov, _Labor_ _and Urban Politics,_ pp. 124\u201325; Weir, _Beyond Labor's Veil,_ pp. 92\u201394.\n\nSchneirov, \"Free Thought,\" pp. 126\u201327; Schwab, \"Autobiography,\" p. 103.\n\nMay, _Protestant Churches,_ p. 83; Boyer, _Urban Masses and Moral Order_ (see Prologue, n. 13), p. 136.\n\nJosiah Strong, _Our Country_ (1885; reprint, Cambridge, MA: Belknap Press, 1963), pp. 177\u201379, 186; also see May, _Protestant Churches,_ pp. 114\u201315.\n\nSee Herbert Gutman, \"Protestantism and the American Labor Movement: The Christian Spirit in the Gilded Age,\" reprinted in Gutman, _Work, Culture and Society,_ pp. 79\u2013118; and quote from McNeill, ed., _The Labor Movement,_ p. 468.\n\nSpies, \"Autobiography,\" pp. 62\u201363.\n\nAlan L. Sorkin, \"The Depression of 1882\u20131885,\" in David Glasner, ed., _Business_ _Cycles and Depressions: An Encyclopedia_ (New York: Garland, 1997), pp. 149\u201351; Pierce, _Chicago,_ Vol. 3, pp. 269\u201370.\n\nOn Lloyd, see Digby-Junger, _The Journalist as Reformer_ (see chap. 5, n. 17), pp. 57\u201362, 67; and on George, see Thomas, _Alternative America_ (see chap. 5, n. 17), pp. 140\u201341. Quotes from Henry George, _Social Problems_ (Garden City, NY: Doubleday & Page, 1883), pp. 17\u201318, 35, 68\u201369.\n\n\"Workers' Lodgings: A Report by the Citizens Association,\" _Arbeiter-Zeitung,_ September 3, 1883, in Keil and Jentz, eds., _German Workers, Documentary,_ pp. 129\u201331. See Miller, _City of the Century,_ p. 414.\n\nQuote from Schaack, _Anarchy and Anarchists,_ p. 77.\n\nNelson, _Beyond the Martyrs,_ p. 141; A. Parsons quoted in Schaack, _Anarchy and_ _Anarchists,_ p. 77.\n\nMy interpretation of the political impact of hard times is based on Lawrence Goodwyn, _The Populist Moment: A Short History of the Agrarian Revolt in America_ (New York: Oxford University Press, 1978), pp. 59, 61.\n\nL. Parsons, _The Life,_ pp. 25\u201327.\n\nIbid.\n\nSee Burke, _The Conundrum of Class_ (see Prologue, n. 19), pp. 160\u201361.\n\nQuote in John A. Garraty, ed., _Labor and Capital in the Gilded Age: Testimony_ _Taken by the Senate Committee on the Relations Between Labor and Capital, 1883_ (Boston: Little, Brown, 1968), p. 136.\n\nMedill testimony ibid., pp. 7, 129.\n\nOzanne, _Century,_ pp. 14\u201316. Quotes from J. Anthony Lukas, _Big Trouble: A Murder in a Small Western Town Sets Off a Struggle for the Soul of America_ (New York: Knopf, 1997), p. 188. Also see Kevin Kenny, _Making Sense of the Molly Maguires_ (New York: Oxford University Press, 1988), pp. 283\u201384.\n\nQuote in Ozanne, _Century,_ p. 13.\n\nPierce, _Chicago,_ Vol. 3, p. 271; Ozanne, _Century,_ p. 11, and quotes pp. 14\u201316.\n\nQuote in Ozanne, _Century,_ p. 19.\n\nSchneirov, _Labor and Urban Politics,_ pp. 109, 119\u201323, 130\u201334; Thomas N. Brown, _Irish-American Nationalism, 1870\u20131890_ (Philadelphia: Lippincott, 1966), pp. 56\u201357, 102\u20133, 146\u201347; and Kenny, _Making Sense of the Molly Maguires,_ pp. 280\u201381.\n\nSee Ozanne, _Century,_ pp. 17\u201318 and quote p. 19.\n\nKathleen D. McCarthy, _Noblesse Oblige: Charity and Cultural Philanthropy in_ _Chicago, 1849\u20131929_ (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1982), pp. 113\u201314; Nettie Fowler McCormick quoted in Ozanne, _Century,_ pp. 19\u201320.\n\nFlinn, _Chicago Police,_ p. 234; and quote in Plummer, _Lincoln's Rail-Splitter_ (see Prologue, n. 21), p. 190.\n\nL. Parsons, _The Life,_ pp. 80\u201381, 86.\n\nQuote in Ashbaugh, _Lucy Parsons,_ pp. 59\u201360.\n\nFlinn, _Chicago Police,_ pp. 234, 236.\n\nIbid., pp. 239\u201340; and Schneirov, _Labor and Urban Politics,_ p. 170.\n\nClaudius O. Johnson, _Carter Henry Harrison I: Political Leader_ (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1928), pp. 119, 120\u201321.\n\nIbid.\n\nIbid., pp. 131, 179.\n\nQuote in Miller, _City of the Century,_ p. 445.\n\nSamuel P. McConnell, \"The Chicago Bomb Case: Personal Recollections of an American Tragedy,\" _Harper's Magazine,_ May 1934, p. 731.\n\nJohnson, _Carter Henry Harrison,_ pp. 131, 206; Pierce, _Chicago,_ Vol. 3, p. 356; Miller, _City of the Century,_ pp. 437, 443, 444\u201345; Schneirov, _Labor and Urban Politics,_ pp. 167\u201369.\n\nQuotes from Flinn, _Chicago Police,_ pp. 346, 502, 508.\n\nSamuel Walker, _A Critical History of Police Reform_ (Lexington, MA: Lexington Books, 1977), pp. 17\u201318, 107\u20138; Sidney L. Harwood, _Policing a Class Society: The_ _Experience of American Cities, 1895\u20131915_ (New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press, 1983), pp. 50\u201355, 111, 113\u201317; Eric H. Monkkonen, _Police in Urban America,_ _1860\u20131920_ (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1981), pp. 87\u201388; Frank Donner, _Protectors of Privilege: Red Squads and Police Repression in Urban America_ (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1990), pp. 10\u201314.\n\nQuote in Flinn, _Chicago Police,_ pp. 241, 243.\n\nCharles Edward Russell quoted in Avrich, _Tragedy,_ p. 97.\n\nAvrich, _Tragedy,_ pp. 97\u201398; Schneirov, _Labor and Urban Politics,_ p. 170.\n\nQuote in Flinn, _Chicago Police,_ p. 248.\n\nJohn Peter Altgeld, _Reasons for Pardoning the Haymarket Anarchists_ (Chicago: Charles H. Kerr, 1893; reprint, 1986), pp. 36\u201337, 39, 45\u201346.\n\nIbid., p. 46.\n\nFlinn, _Chicago Police,_ p. 251.\n\n **Chapter Eight \/ The International**\n\nAvrich, _Tragedy,_ pp. 92, 99, 109.\n\nIbid., p. 128; Nelson, _Beyond the Martyrs,_ pp. 119\u201321, 125; and Renate Kiesewetter, \"German-American Labor Press: The _Vorbote_ and the _Chicagoer Arbeiter-Zeitung,_ \" in Keil, ed., _German Workers' Culture,_ pp. 137\u201356.\n\nQuote from E. P. Thompson, \"18th Century English Society: Class Struggle Without Class?\" _Social History_ 3 (May 1978), pp. 154, 158.\n\nFirst quote in Pierce, _Chicago,_ Vol. 3, p. 80; Flinn, _Chicago Police,_ p. 224; Miller, _City of the Century,_ p. 186; and Digby-Junger, _The Journalist as Reformer,_ pp. 64\u201365.\n\nFlinn, _Chicago Police,_ p. 230; Schaack, _Anarchy and Anarchists,_ pp. 80\u201381; Avrich, _Tragedy,_ p. 148.\n\nAvrich, _Tragedy,_ p. 471.\n\nSee Nelson, _Beyond the Martyrs,_ p. 112.\n\nQuote in Schaack, _Anarchy and Anarchists,_ pp. 671\u201372.\n\nNelson, _Beyond the Martyrs,_ pp. 154\u201355; A. Parsons, \"Autobiography,\" p. 43.\n\nAvrich, _Tragedy,_ p. 173, and quotes from p. 73.\n\nGeorge Woodcock, _Anarchism: A History of Libertarian Ideas and Movements_ (Cleveland: World Publishing Co., 1962), pp. 14, 122\u201324, 141\u201344. On the anarchist watchmakers in the Jura Mountains of Switzerland, see ibid., pp. 194\u201395. Also see Jellinek, _Paris Commune_ (see chap. 3, n. 1), p. 14; on the hopes of Proudhon's Paris followers that other communes would form, see ibid., p. 388.\n\nOn the farmers' cooperative movement, see Goodwyn, _The Populist Movement,_ pp. 25\u201330, 32\u201334. Also see Alan Dawley, \"The International Working People's Association,\" in Roediger and Rosemont, eds., _Haymarket Scrapbook_ (see chap. 6, n. 30), pp. 84\u201385.\n\nA. Parsons, \"Autobiography,\" p. 29; and Avrich, _Tragedy,_ p. 115. For the particular influence of Thomas Paine on Albert Parsons, see Harvey J. Kaye, _Thomas Paine_ _and the Promise of America_ (New York: Hill & Wang, 2005), pp. 173\u201375.\n\nSchaack, _Anarchy and Anarchists,_ pp. 19\u201360; Slotkin, _Gunfighter Nation_ (see chap. 3, n. 6), pp. 196, 204; _Chicago Tribune,_ May 6, 1886.\n\nSee Albert Parsons, \"What Is Anarchy?\" in Roediger and Rosemont, eds., _Haymarket Scrapbook,_ pp. 27\u201328.\n\nFor other expressions of popular disgust with Gilded Age greed and corruption, see Tipple, \"The Robber Baron in the Gilded Age\" (see chap. 2, n. 34), pp. 30\u201331; Montgomery, _Citizen Worker,_ p. 146; and Leon Fink, _Workingmen's Democracy: The_ _Knights of Labor and American Politics_ (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1983), pp. 4\u20135.\n\nBruce C. Nelson, \"Dancing and Picnicking Anarchists?\" in Roediger and Rosemont, eds., _Haymarket Scrapbook,_ pp. 76\u201378.\n\nQuotes in Nelson, _Beyond the Martyrs,_ pp. 135\u201337, 139.\n\nQuote in L. Parsons, _The Life,_ p. 77.\n\n\"Observing Thanksgiving Day, 1885,\" from _Alarm,_ in L. Parsons, _The Life,_ pp. 73\u201375.\n\nNelson, _Beyond the Martyrs,_ pp. 133\u201334; and Heiss, \"Popular and Working-Class German Theater in Chicago\" (see chap. 4, n. 33), pp. 192\u201393.\n\nNelson, _Beyond the Martyrs,_ p. 131.\n\n _Chicago Times_ quoted ibid., p. 135.\n\nSee Nelson, _Beyond the Martyrs,_ pp. 144\u201345; and Friedrich A. Sorge, _Friedrich_ _A. Sorge's Labor Movement in the United States: A History of the American Working Class_ _from Colonial Times to 1890,_ ed. Philip S. Foner and Brewster Chamberlin (Westport, CT: Greenwood Press, 1977), p. 71.\n\nAvrich, _Tragedy,_ pp. 99\u2013104.\n\nThe account of Fielden's life is from \"Autobiography of Samuel Fielden,\" in P. Foner, _Autobiographies,_ pp. 131\u201355.\n\nSee Franklin Rosemont, \"Anarchists and the Wild West,\" in Roediger and Rosemont, eds., _Haymarket Scrapbook,_ pp. 101\u20132.\n\nSee Avrich, _Tragedy,_ pp. 105\u20136.\n\nQuote ibid., pp. 117\u201318.\n\nIbid., pp. 114\u201315.\n\nQuote ibid., pp. 112\u201313.\n\nQuote ibid., p. 117.\n\nNelson, _Beyond the Martyrs,_ pp. 88\u201398.\n\nIbid., pp. 84 (Table 4.4), 89\u201390, 91, 103\u20135; Avrich, _Tragedy,_ pp. 151\u201352, 235.\n\nNelson, _Beyond the Martyrs,_ pp. 108\u20139; Perry Duis, _The Saloon: Public Drinking_ _in Chicago and Boston, 1880\u20131920_ (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1983), pp. 52, 61\u201362, 88\u201389, 148\u201349, 152, 180, 236\u201337, 243; Royal Melendy, \"The Saloon in Chicago,\" _American Journal of Sociology_ (November 1900), quoted in Freeman et al., _Who_ _Built America?_ (see chap. 5, n. 2), Vol. 2, p. 86. Also see Klaus Ensslen, \"German-American Working-Class Saloons in Chicago,\" in Keil, ed., _German Workers' Culture,_ pp. 157\u201380; and Sara M. Evans and Harry C. Boyte, _Free Spaces: The Sources of Democratic Change in America_ (New York: Harper & Row, 1986).\n\nAdolph Fischer, \"Autobiography of Adolph Fischer,\" in P. Foner, _Autobiographies,_ pp. 73\u201375; and see Avrich, _Tragedy,_ pp. 150\u201351.\n\nQuote in Avrich, _Tragedy,_ p. 153.\n\nFischer, \"Autobiography,\" p. 85.\n\nEngel narrates his life in George Engel, \"Autobiography of George Engel,\" in P. Foner, _Autobiographies,_ pp. 92\u201396.\n\nIbid., p. 95; on _Der Vorbote,_ see Paul Buhle, _Marxism in the United States_ (London: Verso, 1979), pp. 38\u201339.\n\nEngel, \"Autobiography,\" pp. 95\u201396.\n\nAvrich, _Tragedy,_ pp. 97\u201398, 156.\n\nSee ibid., p. 165.\n\nQuotes ibid., pp. 56\u201357, 169; and Dell, \"Socialism and Anarchism in Chicago\" (see chap. 3, n. 36), p. 388.\n\nDell, \"Socialism and Anarchism in Chicago,\" p. 391.\n\nAvrich, _Tragedy,_ p. 175.\n\nLouis Lingg, \"Autobiography of Louis Lingg,\" in P. Foner, _Autobiographies,_ p. 170.\n\nSee ibid., pp. 169\u201372; and Avrich, _Tragedy,_ p. 157.\n\nLingg, \"Autobiography,\" pp. 175\u201377; and quotes in Avrich, _Tragedy,_ pp. 158\u201359.\n\nLingg, \"Autobiography,\" p. 177.\n\nSchaack, _Anarchy and Anarchists,_ pp. 41\u201343; Brown, _Irish-American Nationalism,_ pp. 147, 156, 162. Quotes in Michael F. Funchion, _Chicago's Irish Nationalists,_ _1881\u20131890_ (New York: Arno Press, 1976), pp. 82\u201385; Clymer, _America's Culture of Terrorism_ (see Prologue, n. 13), pp. 70\u201371, including last quote.\n\nFirst quote from Avrich, _Tragedy,_ pp. 176\u201377.\n\nMy interpretation of this escalating war of words is based on Avrich's account, ibid. Quote from Flinn, _Chicago Police,_ p. 251.\n\n**Chapter Nine \/ The Great Upheaval**\n\nFlorence Peterson, _Strikes in the United States, 1880\u20131936_ (Washington, DC: U.S. Department of Labor, Bureau of Labor Statistics, 1938), Table 4, p. 29; and David Montgomery, \"Machine Production in the Nineteenth Century,\" Table 1, p. 20, in Montgomery, _Workers' Control in America_ (see chap. 7, n. 13).\n\nFriedrich Engels to Friedrich Sorge, August 8, 1887, quoted in R. Laurence Moore, _European Socialists and the American Promised Land_ (New York: Oxford University Press, 1970), p. 15.\n\nP. Foner, _Labor Movement,_ Vol. 2, pp. 103\u20134; and P. Foner and Roediger, _Our Own_ _Time_ (see chap. 1, n. 16), pp. 137\u201338.\n\nSchilling, \"Labor Movement in Chicago,\" p. xxiv.\n\nSchneirov, _Labor and Urban Politics,_ pp. 186\u201387.\n\nFlinn, _Chicago Police,_ pp. 253, 256.\n\nNelson, _Beyond the Martyrs,_ p. 179.\n\nTerence V. Powderly, _Thirty Years of Labor, 1859\u20131889_ (Columbus, OH: Excelsior Publishing House, 1889), p. 495.\n\nThe following description is based on Ozanne, _Century,_ pp. 20\u201322, and Schneirov, _Labor and Urban Politics,_ pp. 191\u201392.\n\nSchneirov, _Labor and Urban Politics,_ p. 193; Buder, _Pullman_ (see Prologue, n.\n\n, p. 140.\n\nJeremy Brecher, _Strike!_ (San Francisco: Straight Arrow Books, 1972), pp. 32\u201333.\n\nQuote from Garraty, _Labor and Capital_ (see chap. 7, n. 42), p. 148.\n\nMcNeill, ed., _The Labor Movement,_ p. 479; and Montgomery, _Citizen Worker,_ pp. 39\u201349; Ware, _Labor Movement in the U.S._ (see chap. 6, n. 40), p. 146.\n\nMontgomery, _Workers' Control,_ Table 1, p. 20.\n\nQuote from Selig Perlman, \"Upheaval and Reorganisation,\" Part 6 of John R. Commons, _History of Labor in the United States_ (New York: Macmillan, 1918), Vol. 2, pp. 250 (n. 8), 374.\n\nOzanne, _Century,_ p. 22; Schneirov, _Labor and Urban Politics,_ p. 192.\n\nQuotes in Flinn, _Chicago Police,_ pp. 263\u201364.\n\nSee P. Foner, _Labor Movement,_ Vol. 2, p. 85; Brecher, _Strike!,_ pp. 35\u201336; and Plummer, _Lincoln's Rail-Splitter,_ pp. 190, 195.\n\nQuote from Schneirov, _Labor and Urban Politics,_ p. 197.\n\nPierce, _Chicago,_ Vol. 3, p. 238.\n\n\"Memoranda of Cooperative Efforts Among Labor Organizations in Illinois,\" _Report of the Illinois Bureau of Labor Statistics, 1886_ (Springfield, IL: H. W. Rokker, 1886), Table XLIX, pp. 455\u201356. Also see David Montgomery, _The Fall of the House of_ _Labor: The Workplace, the State, and American Labor Activism, 1865\u20131925_ (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1987), pp. 146\u201347; P. Foner, _Labor Movement,_ Vol. 2, p. 61.\n\nPierce, _Chicago,_ Vol. 3, p. 38; and quotes in Abraham Bisno, _Abraham Bisno,_ _Union Pioneer_ (Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1967), pp. 66\u201371.\n\nSee E. P. Thompson, \"Time, Work Discipline and Industrial Capitalism,\" in _Customs in Common_ (see chap. 1, n. 18), p. 357.\n\nSong lyrics quoted in P. Foner and Roediger, _Our Own Time,_ p. 139.\n\nQuote from Giuseppe Giacosa, \"A City of Smoke,\" in Pierce, ed., _As Others See_ _Chicago_ (see Prologue, n. 4), p. 276.\n\nOn Chicago's industrial environment, see Waldo Frank, \"The Soul of the City,\" in Pierce, ed., _As Others See Chicago,_ pp. 478\u201379, 481; and Cronon, _Nature's Metropolis_ (see chap. 2, n. 2), pp. 12\u201313.\n\nQuote from Rudyard Kipling, \"How I Struck Chicago and How Chicago Struck Me,\" in Pierce, ed., _As Others See Chicago,_ p. 256.\n\nWare, _Labor Movement in the U.S.,_ pp. 88\u201390, 303; P. Foner, _Labor Movement,_ Vol. 2, p. 66.\n\nRichard Oestreicher, \"Terence Powderly, the Knights of Labor and Artisanal Republicanism,\" in Dubofsky and Van Tine, eds., _Labor Leaders in America_ (see chap. 1, n. 9), pp. 56\u201359, 66; Craig Phelen, _Grand Master Workman: Terence Powderly and the_ _Knights of Labor_ (Westport, CT: Greenwood Press, 2000), pp. 47\u201351.\n\nSchneirov, _Labor and Urban Politics,_ p. 193.\n\nQuote in Nelson, _Beyond the Martyrs,_ pp. 179\u201380; P. Foner, _Labor Movement,_ Vol. 2, pp. 88\u201389.\n\nSchneirov, _Labor and Urban Politics,_ pp. 196, 202.\n\nThomas J. Suhrbur, \"Ethnicity and the Formation of the Chicago Carpenters Union, 1855\u20131890,\" in Keil and Jentz, eds., _German Workers in Industrial Chicago,_ pp. 96\u201397.\n\nP. Foner and Roediger, _Our Own Time,_ p. 138.\n\nQuote from Schilling, \"Labor Movement in Chicago,\" p. xxiv.\n\nNelson, _Beyond the Martyrs,_ pp. 181\u201382.\n\nSchneirov, _Labor and Urban Politics,_ p. 198.\n\nIbid., p. 195.\n\nMy interpretation of this point is based on Schneirov's account, ibid.\n\nDavid Roediger, \"Albert R. Parsons: The Anarchist as Trade Unionist,\" in Roediger and Rosemont, eds., _Haymarket Scrapbook,_ pp. 31\u201332. \"If workers could decree how long they would work, they could also dictate other terms of a renegotiated social contract,\" according to Richard Oestreicher. In the process of \"taking normally unthinkable actions working people's capacity to envision future alternatives expanded.\" The idea of making May Day a moment for a coordinated general strike captivated workers whose prior experience with strikes was almost entirely one of engaging in isolated protests against wage cuts, job actions in which they were often fired and blacklisted if not injured or killed. By taking the offensive on a massive level, the eight-hour men promised to change the calculus of risk that always seemed to work against the strikers and their families. Richard Jules Oestreicher, _Solidarity and Fragmentation:_ _Working People and Class Consciousness in Detroit, 1875\u20131900_ (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1986), pp. 145\u201346, 149.\n\nSee Brecher, _Strike!,_ p. 44; Perlman, \"Upheaval and Reorganisation,\" p. 376; Schneirov, _Labor and Urban Politics,_ p. 194; and Pierce, _Chicago,_ Vol. 3, p. 264.\n\nFlinn, _Chicago Police,_ pp. 265, 269; P. Foner and Roediger, _Our Own Time,_ p. 139; Schwab quoted in Lawson, _American State Trials_ (see chap. 4, n. 43), Vol. 12, p. 106.\n\nQuotes in Schneirov, _Labor and Urban Politics,_ p. 199; Flinn, _Chicago Police,_ p. 265; and _Chicago Tribune,_ May 1, 1886.\n\n _Illinois State Register_ quoted in David, _Haymarket Affair_ (see Prologue, n. 10), p. 163.\n\nPierce, _Chicago,_ Vol. 3, p. 190; and Nelson, _Beyond the Martyrs,_ p. 186.\n\nQuote in Flinn, _Chicago Police,_ pp. 266\u201367.\n\nQuote in Avrich, _Tragedy,_ pp. 185\u201386.\n\n **Chapter Ten \/ A Storm of Strikes**\n\nThe following account of events on May 1, and the quotations (unless indicated otherwise), are from the _Chicago Tribune,_ May 1, 2, 1886.\n\nQuote from Flinn, _Chicago Police,_ p. 265.\n\nIbid., p. 269; Nelson, _Beyond the Martyrs,_ p. 184; and see Schneirov, _Labor and_ _Urban Politics,_ p. 198.\n\nNelson, _Beyond the Martyrs,_ p. 193; P. Foner and Roediger, _Our Own Time,_ p. 139.\n\nQuote from David Montgomery, \"Strikes in Nineteenth-Century America,\" _Social_ _Science Quarterly_ 4 (February 1980), p. 95.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ May 2, 4, 1886.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ May 3, 5, 1886.\n\nSee Ozanne, _Century,_ p. 23.\n\nGoodwyn, _The Populist Moment_ (see chap. 7, n. 38), p. 41.\n\nRichard Boyer and Herbert Morais, _Labor's Untold Story_ (New York: Cameron Associates, 1955), p. 92; Eric Hobsbawm, \"Mass-Producing Traditions: Europe, 1870\u2013 1914,\" in Eric Hobsbawm and Terence Ranger, eds., _The Invention of Tradition_ (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1983), p. 283.\n\nL. Parsons, _The Life,_ pp. 121\u201322; quotes from Oscar Ameringer, _If You Don't_ _Weaken: The Autobiography of Oscar Ameringer_ (Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1983), pp. 44\u201345. And see Stephen J. Ross, _Workers on the Edge: Work, Leisure, and Politics in Industrializing Cincinnati, 1788\u20131890_ (New York: Columbia University Press, 1985), p. 275.\n\nFlinn, _Chicago Police,_ p. 270.\n\nAll quotes on events of Sunday, May 2, are from _Chicago Tribune,_ May 3, 1886, unless otherwise indicated.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ May 4, 1886; Schneirov, _Labor and Urban Politics,_ p. 203; Miller, _City of the Century_ (see Prologue, n. 4), pp. 260\u201361; and Pierce, _Chicago,_ Vol. 3, pp. 178\u201383.\n\nOn Thomas, see Pierce, _Chicago,_ Vol. 3, pp. 429, 432\u201333. Quote in _Chicago Tribune,_ May 3, 1886.\n\nBoyer, _Urban Masses and Moral Order_ (see Prologue, n. 13), p. 136. Moody quoted in _Chicago Tribune,_ May 3, 1886.\n\nAll quotes about events on May 3 are from the _Chicago Tribune,_ May 4, 1886, unless otherwise indicated.\n\nFlinn, _Chicago Police,_ p. 271.\n\nBuder, _Pullman_ (see Prologue, n. 5), pp. 140\u201342.\n\n_Chicago Tribune,_ May 4, 1886; Ware, _Labor Movement in the U.S._ (see chap. 6, n.\n\n, p. 149.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ May 4, 1886; P. Foner, _Labor Movement,_ Vol. 2, p. 85.\n\nFlinn, _Chicago Police,_ pp. 108, 114, 112, 222; and see Stanley Palmer, \"Cops and Guns: Arming the American Force,\" _History Today_ 28 (June 1978), pp. 386\u201389; Harwood, _Policing a Class Society_ (see chap. 7, n. 63), pp. 104\u201314.\n\nSpies's account in George McLean, _The Rise and Fall of Anarchy from Its Incipient Stage to the First Bomb Thrown in Chicago_ (Chicago: R. G. Badoux & Co., 1890), pp. 87\u201388; and in Schaack, _Anarchy and Anarchists,_ pp. 130\u201331.\n\nMcLean, _Rise and Fall of Anarchy,_ pp. 88\u201389.\n\nRoediger and Rosemont, eds. _Haymarket Scrapbook,_ p. 14.\n\nDyer D. Lum, _A Concise History of the Great Trial of the Chicago Anarchists,_ _1886_ (Chicago: Socialistic Publishing Co., 1886), pp. 164\u201368; Avrich, _Tragedy,_ pp. 191\u201392.\n\nLum, _A Concise History,_ p. 69.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ May 4, 5, 1886; Schaack, _Anarchy and Anarchists,_ pp. 125\u201326. _Chicago Tribune_ and police say mob was 8,000. Flinn, _Chicago Police,_ pp. 275\u201376.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ May 4, 1886; Flinn, _Chicago Police,_ p. 278.\n\nBonfield quoted in Flinn, _Chicago Police,_ pp. 278, 280.\n\n**Chapter Eleven \/ A Night of Terror**\n\nFlinn, _Chicago Police,_ p. 279.\n\nAll references and quotes to events of May 4, 1886, are from the _Chicago Tribune,_ May 5, 1886, unless indicated otherwise.\n\nRichard Ely quoted in Miller, _City of the Century,_ p. 238.\n\nBeckert, _The Monied Metropolis_ (see Prologue, n. 12), pp. 273, 276, 290\u201391.\n\nIbid., pp. 282\u201383. First quote, ibid., p. 283; second quote in Plummer, _Lincoln's_ _Rail-Splitter,_ p. 193; and see Smith, \"Cataclysm\" (see Prologue, n. 21), p. 134.\n\nQuote in Avrich, _Tragedy,_ pp. 194\u201395.\n\nTestimony of William Seliger in Lum, _A Concise History,_ pp. 79\u201380.\n\nMcLean, _Rise and Fall of Anarchy,_ p. 89; Avrich, _Tragedy,_ p. 193.\n\nLum, _A Concise History,_ p. 27.\n\nEarlier in the day Adolph Fischer passed the Desplaines Street Police Station and saw the \"police mounting five or six patrol wagons.\" Fischer thought the officers were replacements being sent out to McCormick's. It apparently did not occur to him that the police might be preparing to break up the rally that night. Lum, _A Concise History,_ p. 70.\n\nFlinn, _Chicago Police,_ pp. 294, 296; and see Richard C. Lindberg, _To Serve and_ _Collect: Chicago Politics and Police Corruption_ (New York: Praeger, 1991), pp. 18\u201320.\n\nMarohn, \"The Arming of the Chicago Police\" (see chap. 5, n. 34), pp. 41, 45.\n\nLucy Parsons, ed., _Famous Speeches of the Eight Chicago Anarchists in Court_ (Chicago: Lucy E. Parsons, 1910; reprint, New York: Arno Press, 1969), p. 120; A. Parsons, \"Autobiography,\" p. 48.\n\nAshbaugh, _Lucy Parsons,_ p. 75.\n\nAdelman, _Haymarket Revisited_ (see chap. 4, n. 20), p. 32.\n\nQuote in Keil and Jentz, eds., _German Workers, Documentary,_ pp. 392\u201393, in a translated article in _Die Fackel,_ June 19, 1910.\n\nLum, _A Concise History,_ pp. 37\u201338; _Chicago Tribune,_ May 5, 1886; McLean, _Rise_ _and Fall of Anarchy,_ p. 91.\n\nParsons's summary of his speech on May 4 is quoted in Lum, _A Concise History,_ pp. 39\u201342, 45\u201347.\n\nIbid., p. 46.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ May 5, 1886.\n\nHarrison quoted in Lum, _A Concise History,_ p. 30.\n\nIbid., pp. 131\u201332.\n\nIbid., pp. 29\u201330, 111.\n\nSeliger testimony quoted ibid., pp. 79\u201380; and see David, _Haymarket Affair_ (see Prologue, n. 10), p. 234.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ May 5, 1886.\n\nGeorge Brown, \"The Police Riot: An Eye-Witness Account,\" in Roediger and Rosemont, eds., _Haymarket Scrapbook,_ p. 75.\n\nFielden, \"Autobiography,\" p. 158; Flinn, _Chicago Police,_ p. 310.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ May 6, 1886.\n\nLum, _A Concise History,_ p. 28.\n\nIbid.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ May 5, 1886.\n\nQuote in Lum, _A Concise History,_ p. 141.\n\nHolmes quoted in Adelman, _Haymarket Revisited,_ pp. 35\u201336.\n\nSee testimony of Lt. H. P. Stanton, _Illinois vs. August Spies et al. Trial Transcript,_ Vol. 1, p. 220, Chicago Historical Society, Haymarket Digital Collection.\n\nBonfield and Ward quoted in _Chicago Tribune,_ May 5, 6, 1886. Also see testimonies of other police officers in Lum, _A Concise History,_ pp. 73\u201374, 76, 97, 133.\n\nS. T. Ingram testimony in Lum, _A Concise History,_ p. 133.\n\nTestimony of Richter, Simonson and Ferguson, ibid., pp. 114\u201317. On Simonson's background, see ibid., p. 32.\n\n _Chicago Herald_ quoted in Avrich, _Tragedy,_ p. 209; _Chicago Tribune,_ May 5, 1886.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ June 27, 1886.\n\nLizzie Holmes's account quoted in Adelman, _Haymarket Revisited,_ pp. 91\u201392.\n\nFlinn, _Chicago Police,_ p. 320; _Chicago Tribune,_ May 5, 6, 1886.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ May 8, 1886; Avrich, _Tragedy,_ pp. 210, 444.\n\nSee Avrich, _Tragedy,_ p. 208. An eighth policeman wounded in the square died two years later, reportedly as a result of his wounds. _Chicago Tribune,_ May 7, 8, 1886.\n\n **Chapter Twelve \/ The Strangest Frenzy**\n\nQuotes in Avrich, _Tragedy,_ pp. 216\u201318; and _Chicago Tribune,_ May 6, 1886.\n\n _Chicago Tribune_ and _Journal of the Knights of Labor,_ May 8, 1886; Powderly quoted in Avrich, _Tragedy,_ pp. 217, 219, 220.\n\nQuotes in Avrich, _Tragedy,_ p. 218; and _Chicago Tribune,_ May 6, 1886.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ May 6, 1886.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ May 7, 8, 1886.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ May 7, 10, 1886; Schaack, _Anarchy and Anarchists,_ p. 150.\n\nMcLean, _Rise and Fall of Anarchy,_ p. 95; and see Avrich, _Tragedy,_ p. 225.\n\nLindberg, _Chicago Ragtime,_ pp. 18\u201319; Lindberg, _To Serve and Collect,_ pp. 62\u201363.\n\nAshbaugh, _Lucy Parsons,_ p. 81.\n\nIbid., pp. 82\u201383.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ May 6, 7, 1886; and see Avrich, _Tragedy,_ p. 226.\n\nSee Marohn, \"The Arming of the Chicago Police,\" p. 46.\n\nLindberg, _To Serve and Collect,_ p. 63; Flinn, _Chicago Police,_ pp. 560\u201361.\n\nQuote in Avrich, _Tragedy,_ p. 229.\n\n _New York Times,_ May 5, 1886.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ May 7, 8, 1886.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ May 6, 1886.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ May 6, 1886.\n\nTaylor testimony in Lum, _A Concise History,_ pp. 118\u201319.\n\n_Chicago Tribune,_ May 6, 1886; _New York Times,_ May 8, 1886.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ May 8, 1886; _New York Times,_ May 8, 1886; Ely quoted in Avrich, _Tragedy,_ p. 222.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ May 7, 1886.\n\nBrand Whitlock, _Forty Years of It_ (New York: Appleton-Century, 1914), p. 73.\n\nMy description of popular sentiment at this moment relies on Smith, _Urban Disorder_ (see Prologue, n. 14), pp. 7, 137, 139.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ May 10, 1886.\n\nMy interpretation draws upon that of Bryan Palmer, _Cultures of Darkness: Night_ _Travels in the History of Transgression_ (New York: Monthly Review Press, 2000), pp. 233, 235, 246.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ May 8, 1886.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ May 6, 8, 1886.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ May 5, 1886.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ May 5, 1886.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ May 7, 1886.\n\nMcConnell, \"The Chicago Bomb Case\" (see chap. 7, n. 60), p. 730.\n\nPierce, _Chicago,_ Vol. 3, p. 356; _Chicago Tribune,_ May 10, 1886.\n\n _John Swinton's Paper,_ May 8, 1886, quoted in David, _Haymarket Affair,_ p. 185.\n\nIbid., p. 186.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ May 6, 8, 1886.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ May 6, 1886.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ May 6, 7, 1886.\n\nSee account by Abraham Bisno in Roediger and Rosemont, eds., _Haymarket_ _Scrapbook,_ p. 26.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ May 6, 1886.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ May 18, 19, 26, 27, 1886.\n\nAvrich, _Tragedy,_ pp. 231\u201332, 234.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ May 22, 1886. On Schnaubelt's release, see Richard Lindberg, _Chicago by Gaslight: A History of Chicago's Netherworld, 1880\u20131920_ (Chicago: Academy Chicago Publishers, 1996), pp. 34\u201335.\n\nAvrich, _Tragedy,_ p. 231.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ May 17, 23, 25, 1886.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ May 8, 10, 26, 1886.\n\nMy interpretation of the drawing is based in part on that of Smith, _Urban Disorder,_ pp. 125\u201326.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ May 21, 27, 28, 1886.\n\nLindberg, _Chicago by Gaslight,_ pp. 32\u201333.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ May 26, 27, 28, 1886. See Avrich, _Tragedy,_ p. 208.\n\n _Chicago Times_ quoted in Avrich, _Tragedy,_ p. 233.\n\nQuote in David, _Haymarket Affair,_ p. 188.\n\n **Chapter Thirteen \/ Every Man on the Jury Was an American**\n\n_Chicago Tribune,_ July 11, 1886.\n\nDavid, _Haymarket Affair,_ p. 198. On the German Jews in Chicago, see Pierce, _Chicago,_ Vol. 3, pp. 40, 42; and Edward Herbert Mazur, _Minyans for a Prairie City: The_ _Politics of Chicago Jewry, 1850\u20131940_ (New York: Garland, 1990).\n\nAvrich, _Tragedy,_ p. 251.\n\nRoediger and Rosemont, eds., _Haymarket Scrapbook,_ p. 121; Lawson, ed., _American State Trials_ (see chap. 4, n. 43), p. 18; Sigmund Zeisler, \"Reminiscences of the Haymarket Case,\" _Illinois Law Review_ 21 (November 1926), pp. 26\u201327.\n\nQuoted in David, _Haymarket Affair,_ pp. 197\u201398.\n\nIbid., p. 201.\n\nLawson, ed., _American State Trials,_ p. 19.\n\nAccounts of daily events in the trial are drawn from the reports of the _Chicago Tribune_ from June 21 to August 22, 1886.\n\nDavid, _Haymarket Affair,_ p. 203; and Miller, _City of the Century,_ p. 476.\n\nDavid, _Haymarket Affair,_ p. 204.\n\nAltgeld, _Reasons_ (see chap. 7, n. 68), pp. 25\u201326.\n\nIbid., p. 214.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ August 21, 1886.\n\nAltgeld, _Reasons,_ p. 12.\n\nIn the Supreme Court of the Illinois Grand Division, March Term, 1887, _August_ _Spies et al. vs. the People of the State of Illinois, Brief on the Facts for the Defendants in_ _Error_ (Chicago: Barnard & Gunthorp Law Partners, 1887), in the Haymarket Collection, Yale University, Beinecke Rare Book and Manuscript Library, Box 4, Folder 79, pp. 38\u2013140.\n\n_Chicago Tribune,_ June 27, 1886.\n\nLindberg, _To Serve and Collect,_ p. 71; Schaack, _Anarchy and Anarchists,_ pp. 184\u201385.\n\nQuoted in David, _Haymarket Affair,_ p. 217.\n\nIbid.\n\nIbid., pp. 218\u201319.\n\nMelville Elijah Stone, _Fifty Years a Journalist_ (New York: Doubleday, 1921), p. 173.\n\nLum, _A Concise History,_ pp. 68\u201371; David, _Haymarket Affair,_ pp. 222\u201323.\n\nQuote in David, _Haymarket Affair,_ p. 222.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ July 21, 1886.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ August 7, 1886.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ July 22, 1886.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ July 23, 24, 1886.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ July 24, 25, 1886.\n\nMcLean, _Rise and Fall of Anarchy,_ pp. 32, 41, 42; _Chicago Tribune,_ July 25, 27, 1886.\n\nDavid, _Haymarket Affair,_ pp. 229\u201330.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ July 29, 1886.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ July 27, 1886.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ July 30, 1886.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ July 30, 1886.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ August 1, 1886.\n\nMcLean, _Rise and Fall of Anarchy,_ pp. 65\u201366; _Chicago Tribune,_ August 3, 1886; David, _Haymarket Affair,_ pp. 241\u201342.\n\nMcLean, _Rise and Fall of Anarchy,_ pp. 67\u201368.\n\nIt is difficult to derive a clear picture of what happened in the Haymarket just after the explosion. The police clearly fabricated the story of Sam Fielden shooting at Captain Ward from the hay wagon. On the other hand, the patrolmen's testimony about taking fire from the crowd was corroborated by several civilian witnesses. However, other witnesses called by the defense team contradicted this testimony, and still others said it was clear that the police gunfire struck other officers on the densely packed streets.\n\nThe doctors who examined the police victims and who testified on June 29, 1886, referred mainly to bomb wounds, without drawing any conclusions from the gunshot wounds about which guns the bullets had come from or from which direction the bullets had been shot. Two physicians said that three policemen had wounds from bullets shot in a downward trajectory, which might have indicated that bullets were fired from windows in nearby buildings or that the officers were kneeling down or ducking when they were hit by their fellow officers in the fusillade. Doctors' testimony in \"Chicago Anarchists on Trial\" (a digitized transcript of the trial proceedings available from the Library of Congress at http:\/\/memory.loc.gov\/ammem\/award98\/ichihtml\/haybuild.htm); Doctors Baxter, Murphy, Henrotin, Newman, Bluthardt and Flemming, Vol. K, pp. 617\u201319, 551\u201373, 640\u201345, 691\u201397, and Vol. M, pp. 179\u2013266. Murphy and Bluthardt describe the trajectories in Vol. K, pp. 557\u201358, 570\u201371, 695.\n\nSince the prosecution did not introduce ballistics tests into evidence, there is no way of knowing which guns fired the shots that hit officers. Even if reliable ballistics testing had been done, the results would have been dubious, because the police bought their own guns and were not issued standardized weapons by the department.\n\nEven though Mayor Harrison and other objective observers saw no one in the crowd with firearms, it seems likely that some of the rallygoers were armed. Spies left his revolver on the North Side, but some of the others, fearing another assault like the one at the McCormick works the night before, would have been armed, at least for self-defense. It also seems quite possible that some civilians shot at the police after the officers opened fire in all directions when packed together in tight ranks; in such a formation and in a state of panic, it is also likely that the patrolmen would have hit one another with what was described as wild gunfire.\n\nIn any case, the state's case was built on the evidence that the bomb fragments killed Patrolman Degan. The argument that anarchists opened fire immediately after the bomb exploded was, of course, important to the allegation that a conspiracy had been planned to launch the attack, but the state's evidence relied on eyewitnesses whose testimony was contradicted by reliable reporters who had no connections to the anarchists or to the police.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ August 5, 1886.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ August 7\u20138, 10, 1886.\n\nIbid.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ August 12, 1886.\n\nMcLean, _Rise and Fall of Anarchy,_ pp. 100, 102.\n\nDavid, _Haymarket Affair,_ pp. 258\u201359.\n\nQuote ibid., pp. 103\u20134.\n\nQuote in Lawson, _American State Trials,_ pp. 175\u201376.\n\nIbid. The prosecution submitted expert testimony by chemists that was supposed to prove that the deadly bomb was similar in chemical composition to the bombs Lingg and Seliger made. David, _Haymarket Affair,_ p. 235. Recently, a group of researchers conducted a new scientific analysis of the forensic evidence, including the tiny bomb fragments preserved in the Beinecke Library at Yale University. The conclusion of these scholars tends to confirm the testimony of the prosecution's expert witnesses at the Haymarket trial: that the fragments probably came from a bomb made by Lingg. The authors indicate, however, that firm conclusions cannot be drawn from this evidence (presumably about Lingg's involvement in the crime). Timothy Messer-Kruse, James O. Eckert, Jr., Pannee Burckel and Jeffery Dunn, \"The Haymarket Bomb: Reassessing the Evidence,\" _Labor_ 2 (Summer 2005), pp. 39\u201352.\n\nLouis Lingg was not convicted for making bombs, however. He was convicted as an accessory to murder because he was allegedly part of a May 3 conspiracy meeting during which anarchists supposedly planned the May 4 bombing and because, as a part of this plot, Lingg \"sent\" some of his bombs to be used at the Haymarket. But the state never established any connection between Lingg and the alleged conspiracy meeting or the unknown bomb thrower.\n\nAnd so, it makes no significant difference if more material evidence has been found indicating that Lingg (or Seliger) made the fatal bomb\u2014even if the evidence is conclusive, which it is not, according to the authors of \"The Haymarket Bomb.\" For a much more developed critique of this circumstantial evidence and how it is interpreted in the Messer-Kruse et al. article, see Bryan Palmer, \"CSI Labor History: Haymarket and the Forensics of Forgetting,\" _Labor_ 3 (Winter 2006), forthcoming.\n\nQuote in Lawson, ed., _American State Trials,_ pp. 207\u20138, 215, 221, 222; _Chicago_ _Tribune,_ August 17, 1886; McLean, _Rise and Fall of Anarchy,_ p. 109.\n\nMcLean, _Rise and Fall of Anarchy,_ pp. 112\u201313; _Chicago Tribune,_ August 18, 1886.\n\nThis summary of how Black presented the case draws upon the account in Avrich, _Tragedy,_ pp. 270\u201375.\n\nLawson, ed., _American State Trials,_ p. 259.\n\nIbid., pp. 239\u201341, 248\u201349, 259\u201360.\n\nIbid., pp. 259\u201360.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ August 19, 20, 1886.\n\nChicago Tribune, August 20, 1886; McLean, Rise and Fall of Anarchy, pp. 120\u201321.\n\nMcLean, _Rise and Fall of Anarchy,_ p. 121; _Chicago Tribune,_ August 21, 1886.\n\nMcLean, _Rise and Fall of Anarchy,_ pp. 121\u201322.\n\nDavid, _Haymarket Affair,_ p. 270; Miller, _City of the Century,_ p. 477.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ August 21, 1886.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ August 21, 1886.\n\nQuote in David, _Haymarket Affair,_ pp. 271\u201372.\n\nOn the drama of murder trials and the way in which they were substituted for the drama of public hangings, see Stuart Banner, _The Death Penalty: An American History_ (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2002), pp. 164\u201365; and quote from state's attorney in Lawson, _American State Trials,_ p. 24.\n\nDavid, _Haymarket Affair,_ pp. 272, 274.\n\nQuote ibid., p. 273.\n\n _Workmen's Advocate_ quoted ibid., p. 275.\n\n _Chicago Express_ quoted in Schneirov, _Labor and Urban Politics,_ p. 215.\n\n **Chapter Fourteen \/ You Are Being Weighed in the Balance**\n\nSchneirov, _Labor and Urban Politics,_ p. 215.\n\n _Chicago Express_ quoted in Ashbaugh, _Lucy Parsons,_ p. 89. Also see McLean, _Rise_ _and Fall of Anarchy,_ p. 142; and Schneirov, _Labor and Urban Politics,_ pp. 215, 217.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ September 2, 5, 28, 1886.\n\nSee Avrich, _Tragedy,_ p. 293.\n\nLawson, _American State Trials,_ p. 281. Also see Smith, _Urban Disorder,_ pp. 157\u201375. Spies not only defended his citizenship in this impassioned address, he also asserted his manhood, as he had regularly urged workingmen to do in his speeches and writings, notably in the now-infamous \"Workingmen to Arms\" circular he wrote so furiously after witnessing the massacre at McCormick's on May 3. Spies's call to male pride was echoed by other anarchists in their final speeches, which asserted a passionate sense of working-class manhood against the more controlled expressions of middle-class manhood expressed by the attorney Grinnell, who seemed to reporters to be a strong, honorable man, wise and calm, dignified and refined, one who always stood firm in the midst of the nation's worst storms. In this sense the Haymarket trial could be seen as a contest over manhood that evoked the wounded pride of immigrant workingmen and the mental toughness of the city's \"best men,\" who worried about losing control of the democracy to angry men of the lower classes. See Gail Bederman, _Manliness and Civilization: A Cultural History of Gender and Race in the United States, 1880\u20131917_ (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1995), pp. 11\u201313.\n\nMcLean, _Rise and Fall of Anarchy,_ pp. 149, 154; _The Accused and the Accusers:_ _The Famous Speeches of the Eight Chicago Anarchists in Court on October 7th, 8th and_ _9th_ (Chicago: Socialistic Publishing Co., 1886), p. 10.\n\nMcLean, _Rise and Fall of Anarchy,_ pp. 157\u201359, 161\u201363.\n\nIbid., pp. 159\u201360.\n\nQuote ibid., p. 173.\n\nQuote ibid., p. 174. Also see Alan Calmer, _Labor Agitator: The Story of Albert R._ _Parsons_ (New York: International Publishers, 1937) p. 111.\n\nLucy Parsons, ed., _Famous Speeches of the Eight Chicago Anarchists in Court_ (1910; reprint, New York: Arno Press, 1969), p. 82.\n\nIbid., p. 102.\n\nMcLean, _Rise and Fall of Anarchy,_ p. 176; L. Parsons, _Famous Speeches,_ pp. 176\u201377.\n\nL. Parsons, _Famous Speeches,_ pp. 98, 111.\n\nIbid., p. 109.\n\nCalmer, _Labor Agitator,_ p. 112.\n\nMcLean, _Rise and Fall of Anarchy,_ p. 177.\n\nJohn Moses and Joseph Kirkland, eds., _The History of Chicago_ (Chicago: Munsell & Co., 1895), pp. 199\u2013200.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ October 13, 1886.\n\nSchneirov, _Labor and Urban Politics,_ pp. 221\u201322; _Chicago Tribune,_ November 17, 1886.\n\nSchneirov, _Labor and Urban Politics,_ p. 237; Kim Voss, _The Making of American_ _Exceptionalism: The Knights of Labor and Class Formation in the Nineteenth Century_ (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1993), pp. 223, 225.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ October 18, 20, 1886; also see Ware, _Labor Movement in the_ _U.S._ (see chap. 6, n. 40), pp. 152\u201354; and Avrich, _Tragedy,_ p. 310.\n\nQuote in Schneirov, _Labor and Urban Politics,_ p. 223.\n\nRichard Schneirov, \"The Friendship of Bert Stewart and Henry Demarest Lloyd,\" in Roediger and Rosemont, eds., _Haymarket Scrapbook,_ pp. 158\u201359.\n\nQuoted in Schneirov, _Labor and Urban Politics,_ p. 223.\n\n_Chicago Tribune,_ November 23\u201325, 1886.\n\nOrvin Larson, _American Infidel: Robert G. Ingersoll_ (New York: Citadel Press, 1962), pp. 219\u201320.\n\nIbid., p. 220.\n\nRobert S. Eckley, \"Leonard Swett: Lincoln's Legacy to the Chicago Bar,\" _Journal_ _of the Illinois State Historical Society_ 92 (1999), pp. 30\u201336.\n\nAvrich, _Tragedy,_ pp. 315\u201316; _Chicago Tribune,_ November 6, 1887; and Edward Aveling and Eleanor Marx, _The Working-Class Movement in America_ (London: Sonnenschein, 1886), p. 161.\n\nCharles Edward Russell, _These Shifting Scenes_ (New York: Hodder & Stoughton, 1914), pp. 94\u201395.\n\nIbid., p. 96.\n\nFranklin Rosemont, \"A Bomb-Toting, Long-Haired, Wild-Eyed Fiend: The Image of the Anarchist in Popular Culture,\" in Roediger and Rosemont, eds., _Haymarket Scrapbook,_ p. 206; drawing of the Parsons family and quote from Art Young, ibid., pp. 100, 201.\n\nArt Young, _On My Way: Being the Book of Art Young in Text and Pictures_ (New York: Horace Liveright, 1928), p. 201; Russell, _These Shifting Scenes,_ pp. 98\u201399; and see Franklin Rosemont, \"The Most Dangerous Anarchist,\" in Roediger and Rosemont, eds., _Haymarket Scrapbook,_ p. 51.\n\nRussell, _These Shifting Scenes,_ p. 100.\n\nSee Avrich, _Tragedy,_ p. 324.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ January 14, 18, 19, 20, 1887; Van Zandt quoted in Avrich, _Tragedy,_ p. 325.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ March 11, 13, 1887.\n\nAveling and Marx, _Working-Class Movement,_ p. 167; L. Parsons, _The Life,_ pp. 235\u201341.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ March 18, 1886.\n\nFrancis X. Busch, \"The Haymarket Riot and the Anarchist Trial,\" _Journal of the_ _Illinois State Historical Society_ 48 (1935), p. 261; Swett and Oglesby quoted in Harry Barnard, \" _Eagle Forgotten_ \": _The Life of John Peter Altgeld_ (Indianapolis: Bobbs-Merrill, 1962), pp. 110, 198.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ November 4, 1886, and March 21, 1887.\n\nQuote in _Chicago Tribune,_ March 25, April 2, 5, 1887; Schneirov, _Labor and_ _Urban Politics,_ p. 228.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ April 6, 7, 1887.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ April 6, 7, 1887.\n\n **Chapter Fifteen \/ The Law Is Vindicated**\n\n_Chicago Tribune,_ May 6, 7, 8, 1887.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ March 8, May 5, June 10, 1887. On the Merritt law, see David, _Haymarket Affair,_ pp. 313\u201314.\n\nMcConnell, \"The Chicago Bomb Case\" (see chap. 7, n. 60), pp. 733\u201334; McLean, _Rise and Fall of Anarchy,_ p. 182.\n\nMcLean, _Rise and Fall of Anarchy,_ pp. 185\u201386.\n\nCentral Labor Union resolution quoted in David, _Haymarket Affair,_ p. 347.\n\nIngersoll quoted in Avrich, _Tragedy,_ p. 336, and in Larson, _American Infidel,_ p. 220.\n\nMcLean, _Rise and Fall of Anarchy,_ pp. 198\u2013200; _Chicago Tribune,_ September 22, 1886.\n\nAvrich, _Tragedy,_ pp. 304\u20135.\n\nDigby-Junger, _The Journalist as Reformer_ (see chap. 5, n. 17), pp. 80\u201381.\n\nAvrich, _Tragedy,_ pp. 303\u20134; Thomas, _Alternative America_ (see chap. 5, n. 17), pp. 208, 232.\n\nQuote in David, _Haymarket Affair,_ pp. 345\u201346; _Chicago Tribune,_ September 24, October 11, 21, 1887.\n\nQuote in E. P. Thompson, _William Morris: Romantic to Revolutionary_ (New York: Pantheon, 1976), p. 409; Beryl Ruehl, \"From Haymarket Square to Trafalgar Square,\" in Roediger and Rosemont, eds., _Haymarket Scrapbook,_ pp. 217, 220.\n\nMoore, _European Socialists and the American Promised Land_ (see chap. 9, n. 2), pp. 15, 33, 36\u201337; Marianne Debouzy, introduction to _In the Shadow of the Statue of Liberty: Immigrants, Workers, and Citizens in the American Republic, 1880\u20131920_ (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1992), p. vii.\n\nMarjorie Murphy, \"And They Sang the ' _Marseillaise_ ': A Look at the French Left Press as It Responded to Haymarket\"; Hubert Perrier et al., \"The 'Social Revolution' in America? European Reactions to the 'Great Upheaval' and to the Haymarket Affair\"; and Raymond C. Sun, \"Misguided Martyrdom: German Social Democratic Response to the Haymarket Incident,\" in a special Haymarket centennial number of _International_ _Labor and Working Class History_ 29 (Spring 1986), pp. 42\u201344, 53\u201360; George Richard Esenwein, _Anarchist Ideology and the Working-Class Movement in Spain, 1868\u20131898_ (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1989), pp. 6\u20139, 125\u201327, 155\u201356. Quote in _Chicago Tribune,_ October 11, 1887.\n\nBusch, \"Haymarket Riot,\" p. 266. Butler made this argument about applying the Fourteenth Amendment to state cases before a Supreme Court that had \"rendered that amendment innocuous as far as the Negro was concerned,\" wrote W. E. B. DuBois, and made it instead into the \"chief refuge\" for corporations trying to avoid state regulation. See DuBois, _Black Reconstruction_ (see chap. 4, n. 10), p. 691.\n\nQuote in McLean, _Rise and Fall of Anarchy,_ pp. 207, 211.\n\nDavid, _Haymarket Affair,_ pp. 322\u201324; quoted in Busch, \"Haymarket Riot,\" p. 267.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ November 3, 1887. Quotes in Avrich, _Tragedy,_ p. 355.\n\nL. Parsons, _The Life,_ p. 230; Stone, _Fifty Years_ (see chap. 13, n. 21), pp. 175\u201376.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ November 7, 1887; L. Parsons, _The Life,_ pp. 183\u201386.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ November 5, 6, 7, 1887. On Trumbull, see McConnell, \"The Chicago Bomb Case,\" p. 735; Ralph J. Roske, _His Own Counsel: The Life and Times of_ _Lyman Trumbull_ (Reno: University of Nevada Press, 1979), pp. 100\u2013105, 113\u201316, 121\u201328; and Plummer, _Lincoln's Rail-Splitter,_ p. 49.\n\nQuoted in David, _Haymarket Affair,_ p. 240.\n\nQuotes from Garlin Sender, _Three American Radicals: John Swinton, Charles P._ _Steinmetz and William Dean Howells_ (Boulder, CO: Westview Press, 1991), pp. 107, 110.\n\nQuote from Kenneth Lynn, _William Dean Howells: An American Life_ (New York: Harcourt, Brace & World, 1971), p. 291; Sender, _Three American Radicals,_ pp. 127\u201338.\n\nDavid, _Haymarket Affair,_ pp. 336\u201338.\n\nQuote ibid., p. 334. See Thomas, _Alternative America,_ pp. 225\u201326, 230\u201331.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ November 7, 1887; Avrich, _Tragedy,_ p. 353.\n\nOn Gage, see Pierce, _Chicago,_ Vol. 3, p. 205. On the businessmen's meeting, see David, _Haymarket Affair,_ pp. 362\u201363; on Medill's view, see Plummer, _Lincoln's Rail-Splitter,_ p. 197.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ November 6, 8, 1887.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ November 11, 1887; Plummer, _Lincoln's Rail-Splitter,_ p. 194.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ November 7, 8, 1887; Matson quote in Finis Farr, _Chicago: A_ _Personal History of America's Most American City_ (New Rochelle, NY: Arlington House, 1973), p. 150.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ November 9, 1887.\n\nDavid, _Haymarket Affair,_ p. 367; Herman Raster to Richard J. Oglesby, November 7, 1887, Chicago, in Oglesby Papers, Abraham Lincoln Presidential Library, Springfield, IL; _Chicago Tribune,_ November 10, 1887.\n\nOn Cora Richmond, see Avrich, _Tragedy,_ pp. 371\u201372; quote about Oglesby in David Herbert Donald, _Lincoln's Herndon_ (New York: Knopf, 1948), p. 205. On literature of reminiscence, see Merrill D. Peterson, _Lincoln and American Memory_ (New York: Oxford, 1994), pp. 158\u201363.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ November 10, 1887; Gompers, _Seventy Years_ (see Prologue, n.\n\n, p. 238.\n\nQuote in David, _Haymarket Affair,_ p. 375.\n\nJoseph R. Buchanan, _The Story of a Labor Agitator_ (1903; reprint, Westport, CT: Greenwood Press, 1970), pp. 336\u201339.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ November 11, 1887; David, _Haymarket Affair,_ pp. 364\u201366, 397; Avrich, _Tragedy,_ pp. 367\u201371, 377.\n\nAvrich, _Tragedy,_ pp. 367\u201371, 377.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ November 11, 1887. Parsons's letter to his children is in L. Parsons, _The Life,_ Appendix.\n\nFor the lyrics to \"Annie Laurie,\" see http:\/\/ www.ingeb.org\/songs\/annielau.htm.\n\nMcLean, _Rise and Fall of Anarchy,_ pp. 227\u201329.\n\nIbid., pp. 230\u201331.\n\nQuotes from Farr, _Chicago: A Personal History,_ p. 150; and Russell, _These Shifting Scenes,_ pp. 103\u20134.\n\nRussell, _These Shifting Scenes,_ pp. 103\u20134.\n\nChicago Tribune, November 11, 1887; and see Ashbaugh, Lucy Parsons, pp. 35\u201336.\n\n _Chicago Daily News,_ November 11, 1887, quoted in McLean, _Rise and Fall of_ _Anarchy,_ pp. 232\u201333.\n\nIbid.\n\n _Chicago Daily News,_ quoted in McLean, _Rise and Fall of Anarchy,_ pp. 234\u201337.\n\nIn 1886 a special committee of the English courts conducted a seminal study of execution by hanging and determined the ideal form of death by this means: sudden death caused by a broken neck instead of slow strangulation or decapitation, which sometimes resulted when a heavy body was dropped too far below the gallows platform. After various experiments in physics, it was determined that a man weighing 140 to 170 pounds, the weight range of the four men executed in Chicago, should fall at least 71\u20442 feet below the platform in order for the neck to snap and death to occur most rapidly. These measurements would become the goal to which all subsequent Anglo-American judicial hangings aspired, but in November of 1887 such physics of death were not employed by the Cook County sheriff and the executioner: the four anarchists were given enough rope to fall only 4 feet below the gallows floor, and so they dangled at the ends of nooses for seemingly interminable minutes before finally choking to death. Timothy V. Kaufman-Osborn, _From the Noose to the Needle: Capital Punishment and the Late Liberal State_ (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 2002), pp. 87\u201388, 112\u201313. Also see Charles Duff, _A Handbook of Hanging: Being a Short Introduction to the Fine Art of Execution . . ._ (Boston: Hale, Cushman & Flint, 1929), pp. 62\u201363.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ November 11, 1887.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ November 11, 1887.\n\nBuchanan, _Story of a Labor Agitator,_ pp. 414\u201315; Avrich, _Tragedy,_ p. 394; and Russell, _These Shifting Scenes,_ p. 105.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ November 11, 1887.\n\nHowells's letter quoted in Sender, _Three American Radicals,_ pp. 122, 124, 129; and see Lynn, _William Dean Howells,_ pp. 89, 109, 278, 290\u201392.\n\nAbraham Cahan, _The Education of Abraham Cahan,_ translated by Leon Stein, Abraham P. Conan and Lynn Davison (Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society of America, 1969), p. 328; Morris U. Schappes, \"Haymarket and the Jews,\" in Roediger and Rosemont, eds., _Haymarket Scrapbook,_ pp. 119\u2013120.\n\nSee Avrich, _Tragedy,_ p. 407; and on Black's being haunted by Parsons's return, see ibid., p. 259. On Gompers, see Bernard Mandel, _Samuel Gompers, A Biography_ (Yellow Springs, OH: Antioch Press, 1963), p. 57.\n\nSchilling, \"Labor Movement in Chicago,\" pp. xxvi\u2013xxvii.\n\n**Chapter Sixteen \/ The Judgment of History**\n\nThe following description of the funeral is drawn from the _Chicago Times,_ November 14, 1887. Also see Ashbaugh, _Lucy Parsons,_ pp. 137\u201339; and Avrich, _Tragedy,_ pp. 395\u201396.\n\nAvrich, _Tragedy,_ pp. 395\u201396.\n\nRussell, _These Shifting Scenes,_ p. 105.\n\nRoediger and Rosemont, eds., _Haymarket Scrapbook,_ p. 121.\n\nAvrich, _Tragedy,_ p. 456.\n\nSee ibid., p. 409; and Esenwein, _Anarchist Ideology,_ pp. 156\u201360.\n\nDavid, _Haymarket Affair,_ p. 395; McNeil, ed., _The Labor Movement,_ pp. 467\u201368.\n\nEmma Goldman, _Living My Life_ (New York: Knopf, 1931), Vol. 1, p. 10.\n\nRichard Drinnon, _Rebel in Paradise: A Biography of Emma Goldman_ (Boston: Beacon Press, 1970), pp. 12\u201315; Goldman, _Living My Life,_ Vol. 1, pp. 9\u201310, 23\u201342, 508; and also quote from a letter in Avrich, _Tragedy,_ p. 434.\n\nBisno, _Abraham Bisno, Union Pioneer_ (see chap. 9, n. 22), p. 90.\n\nJones, _Autobiography of Mother Jones_ (see Prologue, n. 10), pp. 13\u201314; also see Elliot J. Gorn, _Mother Jones: The Most Dangerous Woman in America_ (New York: Hill & Wang, 2001), pp. 263\u201365, 273\u201377.\n\nWilliam D. Haywood, _Bill Haywood's Book_ (New York: International Publishers, 1929), p. 31.\n\nArthur Mann, _Yankee Reformers in the Urban Age_ (Cambridge, MA: Belknap Press, 1954), p. 184.\n\nMary O. Furner, _Advocacy and Objectivity: A Crisis in the Professionalization of_ _American Social Science, 1865\u20131905_ (Lexington: University of Kentucky Press, 1975), pp. 134\u201337.\n\nZechariah Chafee, Jr., _Free Speech in the United States_ (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1946), pp. 507\u20138.\n\nThomas, _Alternative America,_ p. 214.\n\nEdgar Lee Masters, _The Tale of Chicago_ (New York: Putnam, 1933), p. 219.\n\nMay, _Protestant Churches_ (see chap. 6, n. 38), pp. 100\u2013102; Boyer, _Urban Masses_ _and Moral Order_ (see Prologue, n. 13), pp. 125\u201328, 131, 135, 242.\n\nQuote from Flinn, _Chicago Police,_ p. 222.\n\nMcLean, _Rise and Fall of Anarchy,_ p. 20.\n\nSchaack, _Anarchy and Anarchists,_ p. 148.\n\nWilliam J. Adelman, \"The Haymarket Monument at Waldheim,\" in Roediger and Rosemont, eds., _Haymarket Scrapbook,_ p. 167.\n\nRobert Wiebe, _Self-Rule: A Cultural History of American Democracy_ (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1995), pp. 136\u201337.\n\nWilliam J. Adelman, \"The Road to Fort Sheridan,\" in Roediger and Rosemont, eds., _Haymarket Scrapbook,_ p. 130; Miller, _City of the Century_ (see Prologue, n. 4), p. 476; Roy Turnbaugh, \"Ethnicity, Civic Pride and Commitment: The Evolution of the Chicago Militia,\" _Journal of the Illinois State Historical Society_ 72 (1979), pp. 111\u201322.\n\nDavid, _Haymarket Affair,_ p. 404; and Montgomery, _Citizen Worker_ (see chap. 7, n. 19), pp. 102\u20134.\n\nBarnard, \" _Eagle Forgotten_ \" (see chap. 14, n. 41), p. 184; and see Rosemont, \"A Bomb-Toting, Long-Haired, Wild-Eyed Fiend,\" p. 205.\n\nRoediger and Rosemont, eds., _Haymarket Scrapbook,_ p. 29.\n\nFor an insightful study of this popular literature, see Ann Fabian, _The Unvarnished Truth: Personal Narratives in Nineteenth-Century America_ (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2000).\n\nSmith, _Urban Disorder_ (see Prologue, n. 14), pp. 137, 142\u201343.\n\nRudolph Vecoli, \" 'Free Country': The American Republic Viewed by the Italian Left, 1880\u20131920,\" in Debouzy, ed., _In the Shadow of the Statue of Liberty,_ p. 25.\n\nAshbaugh, _Lucy Parsons,_ pp. 162\u201363, 175\u201376.\n\n_Alarm,_ December 8, 1888; Thompson, _William Morris,_ pp. 506\u20137.\n\nQuotes in Thompson, _William Morris,_ pp. 487, 507.\n\nIbid., p. 487; also see pp. 489, 493\u201394.\n\nEsenwein, _Anarchist Ideology,_ pp. 6\u20139, 125\u201327, 156; quote on p. 159. Kropotkin quoted in Avrich, _Tragedy,_ p. 412. Also see Lars-Goran Tedebrand, \"America in the Swedish Press, 1880s to 1920s,\" in Debouzy, ed., _In the Shadow of the Stature of Liberty,_ p. 55.\n\nGompers, _Seventy Years,_ pp. 238\u201339.\n\nEsenwein, _Anarchist Ideology,_ p. 163; Andrea Panaccione, ed., _Sappi che Oggi e_ _la tua Festa . . . per la Storia del l Maggio_ [ _May Day Celebration_ ] (Venice: Marsilio Editori, 1988); Eric Hobsbawm, \"May Day,\" in Hobsbawm and Ranger, eds., _The Invention_ _of Tradition_ (see chap. 10, n. 10), p. 285.\n\n _Chicago Tribune,_ May 2, 1890.\n\nJane Addams, _Twenty Years at Hull House_ (New York: Macmillan, 1934), pp. 177\u201378, and _My Friend, Julia Lathrop_ (New York: Macmillan, 1935), quoted in \"Haymarket, 1886!\" _Chicago History_ 15 (Summer 1986), p. 63.\n\nSee Richard Schneirov, \"Voting as a Class: Haymarket and the Rise of the Democrat-Labor Alliance in Late Nineteenth-Century Chicago,\" _Labor History_ 45 (Spring\u2013Summer 2004), pp. 6\u201320, and Schneirov, _Labor and Urban Politics,_ pp. 284\u201386, 307; Leon Fink, \"The New Labor History and the Power of Historical Pessimism: Consensus, Hegemony and the Case of the Knights of Labor,\" _Journal of American History_ 75 (June 1988), p. 132; David Brody, \"Shaping a Labor Movement,\" in Brody, _In Labor's_ _Cause_ (New York: Oxford University Press, 1989), pp. 87\u201388. On the socialist challenge to Gompers led by Chicago machinist Tommy Morgan, see P. Foner, _Labor Movement,_ Vol. 1, pp. 279\u2013310. Quote from Chicago activist George Detwiler in Schneirov, _Labor_ _and Urban Politics,_ p. 318.\n\nQuote in Christopher L. Tomlins, _The State and the Unions: Labor Relations,_ _Law, and the Organized Labor Movement in America, 1880\u20131960_ (New York: Cambridge University Press, 1985), pp. 30, 49, 57.\n\nSchilling to Lucy Parsons, December 1, 1893, in George Schilling Papers, quoted in Ashbaugh, _Lucy Parsons,_ p. 191.\n\nBarnard, \" _Eagle Forgotten,_ \" pp. 1\u201318, 23\u201339, 43, 133, 159\u201362; and Pierce, _Chicago,_ Vol. 3, p. 452.\n\nSee Erik Larson, _The Devil in the White City: Murder, Magic, and Madness at the_ _Fair That Changed America_ (New York: Vintage, 2004); quote from Lloyd on p. 374.\n\nClarence Darrow, _The Story of My Life_ (New York: Scribner, 1932), pp. 41\u201355, 96\u2013104.\n\nSee Barnard, \" _Eagle Forgotten,_ \" quotes on pp. 183, 187, and see pp. 204\u20138, 250\u201356.\n\nIbid., pp. 208, 218\u201319.\n\nAdelman, \"The Haymarket Monument,\" p. 171. Also see Melissa Dabakis, _Visualizing Labor in American Sculpture: Monuments, Manliness, and the Work Ethic,_ _1880\u20131935_ (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1999), pp. 60\u201361.\n\nDabakis, _Visualizing Labor,_ p. 61. On sites of memory that encourage \"commemorative vigilance,\" see Pierre Nora, \"Between Memory and History: _Les Lieux de Memoire,_ \" _Representations_ 26 (Spring 1989), pp. 8\u201322; and James Green, \"Crime Against Memory at Ludlow,\" _Labor_ 1 (Spring 2004), pp. 9\u201316.\n\nQuotes from Altgeld, _Reasons_ (see chap. 7, n. 68), pp. 11\u201312, 35, 46, 36\u201337, 39.\n\nAvrich, _Tragedy,_ pp. 238\u201339, 439\u201341. Author's interview with Tim Samuelson, Chicago, December 5, 2004.\n\nOn Lum, see Avrich, _Tragedy,_ pp. 408, 442\u201345, and Paul Avrich, \"The Bomb Thrower\u2014A New Candidate,\" in Roediger and Rosemont, eds. _Haymarket Scrapbook,_ pp. 71\u201373.\n\nAltgeld, _Reasons,_ pp. 35, 46; also see pp. 36\u201337, 39.\n\nSee Barnard, \" _Eagle Forgotten,_ \" pp. 240\u201341; David, _Haymarket Affair,_ p. 246; and Darrow, _Story of My Life,_ p. 101.\n\nOn Altgeld's criticism of those who associated immigrants with crime and disorder, see Barnard, \" _Eagle Forgotten,_ \" pp. 132\u201333. On his love of liberty, see quotes from Clarence Darrow's eulogy for Altgeld in Arthur Weinberg, ed., _Attorney for the Damned:_ _Clarence Darrow in the Courtroom_ (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1989), p. 544, and from Ray Ginger in _Altgeld's America: The Lincoln Ideal vs. Changing Realities_ (New York: Funk & Wagnalls, 1958), p. 87. Altgeld did not live to see his prophecy fulfilled. He died in 1902, one year before a federal law banned alien anarchists from entering the United States and paved the way for the wartime suspension of civil liberties for all American radicals, native-born and foreign-born. For a contemporary version of Altgeld's argument that the targeting of immigrants as potential terrorists leads to broader attacks on civil liberties, see the syndicated column by Molly Ivins, \"Mr. Ashcroft, Let's Not Repeat Past Mistakes,\" _Boston Globe,_ November 21, 2001, and the more extensive version of the argument in David Cole, _Enemy Aliens: Double Standards and Constitutional Freedoms in the War on Terrorism_ (New York: New Press, 2003).\n\nDavid, _Haymarket Affair,_ pp. 412\u201313. And see Barnard, \" _Eagle Forgotten,_ \" p. 214, and quotes on p. 248.\n\nBarnard, \" _Eagle Forgotten,_ \" pp. 236\u201338.\n\nAvrich, _Tragedy,_ pp. 446\u201348.\n\nBuder, _Pullman_ (see Prologue, n. 5), pp. 170\u201371, 179\u201381; Ginger, _Altgeld's_ _America,_ p. 100; Addams, _Twenty Years at Hull House,_ p. 160.\n\nMiller, _City of the Century,_ pp. 546\u201349; Barnard, \" _Eagle Forgotten,_ \" p. 298; Roediger and Rosemont, eds., _Haymarket Scrapbook,_ p. 185; Ginger, _Altgeld's America,_ pp. 192\u201393.\n\nMiller, _City of the Century,_ pp. 546\u201347.\n\nNick Salvatore, _Eugene V. Debs: Citizen and Socialist_ (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1982), pp. 152\u201355; Ray Ginger, _Eugene V. Debs: The Making of an American_ _Radical_ (1949; reprint, New York: Collier, 1962), pp. 64, 108, 192\u201393; William E. For-bath, _Law and the Shaping of the American Labor Movement_ (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1989), pp. 42\u201343, 75\u201377, 168; Tomlins, _The State and the Unions,_ pp. 30, 49, 57.\n\nIn the age of industrial violence that followed the Pullman conflict, dynamite bombs exploded with a frequency even August Spies and Louis Lingg could not have predicted. The bombs were not used as weapons in pitched battles between strikers and the National Guard as the Chicago anarchists imagined, but rather in secret campaigns waged by embattled trade unionists against antiunion employers and their hired gunmen. For example, in Rocky Mountain metal-mining districts, battles between union miners and the armed forces of the operators led to the deaths of sixty people, most of them as a result of the brutal conflict that erupted around the Cripple Creek mining district in Colorado. Many of the casualties were members of the Western Federation of Miners, a union organized by militant socialists like William D. Haywood, an admirer of Albert Parsons and August Spies. In addition to the union casualties, two mine foremen and thirteen strikebreakers died in dynamite explosions. The authorities blamed the blasts on \"socialist dynamiters\" like Haywood, but no one was ever charged in any of the Colorado killings. See Rhodri Jeffreys-Jones, _Violence and Reform in American History_ (New York: New Viewpoints, 1978), pp. 8\u201378; and Elizabeth Jameson, _All That Glitters:_ _Class, Conflict, and Community in Cripple Creek_ (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1998), pp. 218\u201325, 244\u201347.\n\nQuote in Ginger, _Eugene V. Debs,_ p. 66; Ashbaugh, _Lucy Parsons,_ pp. 199\u2013200.\n\nJoseph Kirkland, \"Some Notable Trials,\" in Moses and Kirkland, eds., _History of_ _Chicago_ (see chap. 14, n. 18), p. 208. Joseph Kirkland was a practicing lawyer in Chicago as well as a novelist whose book _Zury: The Meanest Man in Spring County_ (published the year of the Haymarket executions) focused on the life of a tightfisted farmer who became a hardheaded Chicago businessman devoted entirely to the pursuit of wealth. Kirkland was a leading figure in the city's genteel literary circles, but his 1887 novel was anything but genteel; it was the first realist novel produced by what would become the Chicago school of novelists devoted to exposing the brutal conflicts that seemed to overwhelm the city's residents. Timothy B. Spears, _Chicago Dreaming: Mid-westerners and the City, 1871\u20131919_ (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2005), pp. 53\u201354.\n\nKirkland, \"Some Notable Trials,\" p. 208.\n\nAshbaugh, _Lucy Parsons,_ p. 182; quote in Kirkland, \"Some Notable Trials,\" p. 204.\n\nQuotes in Blaine McKinley, \"A Religion in a New Time: Anarchists' Memorials to the Haymarket Martyrs,\" _Labor History_ 28 (Summer 1997), pp. 391, 395\u201396. Holmes and Goldman quoted in Avrich, _Tragedy,_ p. 449.\n\nQuotes in McKinley, \"A Religion in a New Time,\" p. 399.\n\n **Epilogue**\n\nAshbaugh, _Lucy Parsons,_ p. 211.\n\nQuoted in Gerstle, _American Crucible,_ p. 70; and see Eric Rauchway, _Murdering_ _McKinley: The Making of Theodore Roosevelt's America_ (New York: Hill & Wang, 2003).\n\nGerstle, _American Crucible,_ pp. 54\u201355; William Preston, _Aliens and Dissenters:_ _Federal Suppression of Radicals, 1903\u20131933_ (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1963), pp. 29, 31.\n\nJoyce L. Kornbluh, ed., _Rebel Voices: An I.W.W. Anthology_ (Chicago: Charles H. Kerr, 1988), pp. 1\u201312.\n\nMelvyn Dubofsky, _We Shall Be All: A History of the Industrial Workers of the World_ (Chicago: Quadrangle Books, 1969), p. 81; and Roediger and Rosemont, eds., _Haymarket Scrapbook,_ pp. 189, 193.\n\n _Proceedings of the Founding Convention of the Industrial Workers of the World_ (New York: Merit Publishers, 1969), pp. 56\u201357, 167\u201368, 171; Haywood, _Bill Haywood's_ _Book,_ p. 187. For an impressive argument that the IWW was strongly influenced by anarchists, see Salvatore Salerno, _Red November, Black November: Culture and Community in the Industrial Workers of the World_ (Albany: State University Press of New York, 1989).\n\nRobert D'Attilio, \" _Primo Maggio:_ Haymarket as Seen by Italian Anarchists in America,\" in Roediger and Rosemont, eds. _Haymarket Scrapbook,_ pp. 229\u201332; Rudolph Vecoli, \" _Primo Maggio:_ May Day Observances Among Italian Immigrant Workers,\" _Labor's Heritage_ 7 (Spring 1966), p. 35.\n\nVecoli, \" _Primo Maggio,_ \" pp. 30\u201331, 40.\n\nRudolph Vecoli, \" _Primo Maggio:_ An Invented Tradition of the Italian Americans,\" in Panaccione, _May Day Celebration,_ p. 70.\n\nOn the important, and sometimes dominant, role of anarchists in forming militant trade unions in Italy, France, Spain, Argentina, Chile and Mexico, see Woodcock, _Anarchism_ (see chap. 8, n. 11), pp. 270\u201371, 370\u201380, 426; Esenwein, _Anarchist Ideology,_ pp. 172, 189, 191, 197, 202\u20133; Robert J. Alexander, _A History of Organized Labor in_ _Argentina_ (Westport, CT: Praeger, 2003), pp. 10, 12, 26\u201327; Peter De Shazo, _Urban_ _Workers and Labor Unions in Chile, 1902\u20131927_ (Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1983), p. 133, 158; and John M. Hart, _Anarchism and the Mexican Working Class,_ _1860\u20131931_ (Austin: University of Texas Press, 1978), pp. 83\u201394, 108\u201311.\n\nAshbaugh, _Lucy Parsons,_ p. 227.\n\nE. Foner, _American Freedom_ (see chap. 1, n. 6), pp. 163\u201364, 168; Ashbaugh, _Lucy Parsons,_ p. 245.\n\nPhilip S. Foner, _May Day: A Short History of the International Workers' Holiday,_ _1886\u20131986_ (New York: International Publishers, 1986), pp. 76\u201379, 87\u201390; John Bodnar, _Remaking America: Public Memory, Commemoration and Patriotism in the Twentieth Century_ (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1992), pp. 83, 85\u201388, 93; Francis Russell, _A City in Terror: 1919, the Boston Police Strike_ (New York: Viking Press, 1975), p. 21.\n\nGinger, _Eugene V. Debs,_ pp. 372\u2013413; Dubofsky, _We Shall Be All,_ pp. 430\u201336, 459; and Preston, _Aliens and Dissenters,_ pp. 220\u201329.\n\nLawson, ed., _American State Trials,_ p. vi.; James Ford Rhodes and Ellis Paxson Oberholtzer, quoted in David, _Haymarket Affair,_ p. 446, from Rhodes's _History of the_ _United States from the Compromise of 1850 to the McKinley-Bryan Campaign of 1896_ (New York: Macmillan, 1920) and Oberholtzer's _A History of the United States Since the_ _Civil War_ (New York: Macmillan, 1917).\n\nQuote from Frank O. Beck, _Hobohemia: Emma Goldman, Lucy Parsons, Ben_ _Reitman and Other Agitators and Outsiders in the 1920s and 1930s_ (1956; reprint, Chicago: Charles H. Kerr, 2000), p. 35.\n\nSee Franklin Rosemont's introduction to ibid., pp. 7\u20139.\n\nQuote from Joughin and Morgan, _Legacy of Sacco and Vanzetti_ (see Prologue, n.\n\n, pp. 208\u20139. Also see Upton Sinclair, _Boston: A Documentary Novel of the Sacco-Vanzetti Case_ (1928; reprint, Boston: Robert Bentley, 1978), p. 754.\n\nThe Haymarket story also appeared in books written by young writers on the left born to immigrant parents. See Anthony Bimba, _The History of the American Working_ _Class_ (New York: International Publishers, 1927), pp. 188, 314; and Louis Adamic, _Dynamite: The Story of Class Violence in America_ (New York: Viking Press, 1934), pp. 65\u201385. On Adamic and second-generation ethnic writers with radical politics, see Michael Denning, _The Cultural Front: The Laboring of American Culture in the Twentieth Century_ (London: Verso, 1997), pp. 447\u201348.\n\nSam Dolgoff quoted in Roediger and Rosemont, eds., _Haymarket Scrapbook,_ p. 246.\n\nToni Gilpin and Steve Rosswurm, \"The Haymarket Tradition,\" _Haymarket:_ _Chicago's Progressive Journal of Politics and Arts_ 21 (May 1986), p. 21.\n\nJeffreys-Jones, _Violence and Reform,_ pp. 18\u201319, 35, 40\u201344.\n\nRichard Hofstadter, \"Reflections on Violence,\" in Richard Hofstadter and Michael Wallace, eds., _American Violence: A Documentary History_ (New York: Knopf, 1970), pp. 6, 11, 19\u201320, 39\u201340. Statistics from Philip Taft and Philip Ross, \"American Labor Violence: Its Causes, Character and Outcome,\" in Hugh Davis Graham and Ted R. Gurr, eds., _Violence in America: Historical and Comparative Perspectives, A Report to_ _the National Commission on the Causes and Prevention of Violence_ (New York: Bantam Books, 1969), p. 270.\n\nLizabeth Cohen, _Making a New Deal: Industrial Workers in Chicago, 1919\u20131939_ (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1990), p. 299; Gilpin and Rosswurm, \"The Haymarket Tradition,\" p. 21; Ashbaugh, _Lucy Parsons,_ p. 262.\n\nCohen, _Making a New Deal,_ p. 300; Ashbaugh, _Lucy Parsons,_ pp. 262\u201364; and Studs Terkel, _Chicago_ (New York: Pantheon, 1986), p. 35.\n\nSee Kenneth Rexroth, \"Again at Waldheim,\" in Sam Hamill and Bradford Morrow, eds., _The Complete Poems of Kenneth Rexroth_ (Port Townsend, WA: Copper Canyon Press, 2003), p. 221, in which the poet reflects on the death of Emma Goldman and her burial at Waldheim near the Haymarket anarchists. Rexroth's poem reads in part: \"What memory lasts Emma of you \/ Or the intrepid comrades of your grave . . . \/ Against the iron-clad, flame throwing \/ Course of time?\" Howard Fast, _The American: A Middle Western Legend_ (New York: Duell, Sloan & Pearce, 1946). On Howard Fast as a Popular Front writer, see Denning, _The Cultural Front,_ p. 248, and Priscilla Murolo, \"History in the Fast Lane,\" _Radical History Review_ 31 (December 1984), pp. 22\u201331. On Algren and Chicago, see H. E. F. Donahue, _Conversations with Nelson Algren_ (New York: Hill & Wang, 1964), pp. 61\u201364, 88.\n\nNelson Algren, _Chicago: City on the Make_ (1951; reprint, Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2001), pp. 23, 48, 52, 62\u201364, 66.\n\nThe story did appear in a few other books, in the pages of Ray Ginger's fine collection of essays in _Altgeld's America_ (chap. 2) and in the chapters of a few labor histories written by leftist authors, published by small presses and read mainly by curious workers in independent labor unions who had learned to keep their heads down while the winds of McCarthyism raged about them. See Boyer and Morais, _Labor's Untold_ _Story,_ pp. 84\u201386; and P. Foner, _Labor Movement,_ Vol. 2, pp. 105\u201314. On the suppression of May Day and the impact of the Cold War on workers' consciousness, see P. Foner, _May_ _Day,_ pp. 135\u201337, 145; James Green, _The World of the Worker: Labor in Twentieth-Century America_ (New York: Hill & Wang, 1980), pp. 133\u2013209; Marianne Debouzy, \"In Search of Working-Class Memory: Some Questions and a Tentative Assessment,\" _History_ _and Anthropology_ 2 (Spring 1986), pp. 275\u201378; Bruno Cartoiso, \"Memoria Privata e Memoria Pubblica nella Storiografico del Movimento Operaio,\" _Studi Storici_ 38 (Inverno 1997), pp. 897\u2013910; and Michael Kammen, _Mystic Chords of Memory: The Transformation of Tradition in American Culture_ (New York: Knopf, 1991), p. 517.\n\nP. Foner, _May Day,_ pp. 74, 80; and James Green, \"Globalization of Memory: The Enduring Remembrance of the Haymarket Martyrs Around the World,\" _Labor_ 2 (Fall 2005), pp. 5\u201315.\n\nDan LaBotz to Jim Green, e-mail, November 18, 2004. The memory also survived in China, even in a year, 1987, when the Communist government held no May Day celebrations. \"Yesterday is the holiday for the working class,\" a friend wrote to me from Beijing on May 2, 1987. \"Though we did not hold any grand meeting or some parade, yet the mighty struggle for the eight hour day is ingrained in our minds.\" In the past \"we paid great tribute to these heroes who sacrificed their lives for the benefit of the working class. May First is one of the most important holidays; on this day we pay tribute to the Haymarket martyrs.\" Huang Shao-xiang to Jim Green, May 2, 1987, Beijing, PRC.\n\nIn 1976 Galeano escaped Argentina for Barcelona, the historic center of Spanish anarchism, where citizens and workers were still celebrating the death of dictator Francisco Franco and his fascist regime. There, in Catalonia, Galeano began to write his magnum opus, the trilogy _Memoria del fuego,_ an epic prose poem dedicated to the people of the Americas and their bloody histories\u2014memory books that transcended existing literary genres. \"I am a writer obsessed with remembering,\" he said, \"with remembering the past of America, above all that of Latin America, intimate land condemned to amnesia.\" Galeano's obsession with the past remains obvious in the third volume of the trilogy, finished in 1986, the year after he came to Chicago. In _Century of the Wind_ he offers yearly calendar scenes that begin at Montevideo in 1900 with a new century being born as \"the time of anybodies,\" a time when \"t]he people want democracy and trade unions.\" Biography of Eduardo Galeano from the Web site [www.kirjasto.sci.fi\/galeano.htm, including first quote; second quote from Eduardo Galeano, _Century of the Wind_ (1986; English trans., New York: Norton, 1988), p. 4. Also see Luis Roniger, Luis Sznajder, and Mario Sznajder, \"The Politics of Memory in Redemocratized Argentina and Uruguay,\" _Memory_ _and History_ 10, no. 1 (Spring 1998), pp. 155\u201356.\n\nEduardo Galeano, _The Book of Embraces_ (New York: Norton, 1991), p. 118.\n\n\"Forgotten Battle,\" transcript of Studs Terkel television interview on the _McNeill-Lehrer News Hour,_ Public Broadcasting System, May 1, 1986, pp. 13\u201314. Thanks to Martin Blatt for a copy of this transcript.\n\nStuds Terkel, _Talking to Myself: A Memoir of My Time_ (New York: Pantheon, 1971), pp. 48\u201349, 58, 197; Studs Terkel, _Division Street: America_ (New York: Pantheon, 1967), p. xxii; Terkel, _Chicago,_ p. 28; and the author's tape-recorded interview with Studs Terkel, Chicago, July 11, 2003.\n\nJeff Huebner, \"Haymarket Revisited,\" _Chicago Reader,_ December 10, 1993, pp. 1, 14; press release from the Haymarket Square Workers Memorial Committee, April 25, 1969, signed by Leslie Orear, in Carolyn Ashbaugh Collection, Charles H. Kerr Papers, Newberry Library, Chicago.\n\nDavid Farber, _Chicago '68_ (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1988), pp. 140\u201343.\n\nIbid., pp. 145\u201348.\n\nJames Miller, _Democracy Is in the Streets: From Port Huron to the Siege of_ _Chicago_ (New York: Simon & Schuster, 1987), pp. 298\u201399; Farber, _Chicago '68,_ pp. 161, 165, 179\u201380, 182\u201383, 199\u2013201.\n\nThe Chicago Eight became the Chicago Seven after the case of Black Panther Bobby Seale was severed from the rest. See J. Anthony Lukas, _The Barnyard Epithet and_ _Other Obscenities: Notes on the Chicago Conspiracy Trial_ (New York: Harper & Row, 1970).\n\nFor an earlier example of a public controversy over a monument to revolutionary martyrs (the victims of the Boston Massacre of 1770), see Dennis B. Ryan, _Beyond the_ _Ballot Box: A Social History of the Boston Irish_ (Amherst: University of Massachusetts Press, 1983), p. 132.\n\nHuebner, \"Haymarket Revisited,\" pp. 2, 20; Miller, _Democracy,_ p. 308. The bombing of the police statue was a symbolic act to inaugurate the Days of Rage, when young radicals planned to bring the Vietnam War home with violent attacks on war-related institutions. One of these Weathermen, Bill Ayers, wrote later about being there that night as he watched a comrade blow up the police monument in Haymarket Square. \"Terry,\" who set off the dynamite, had committed the story of the Haymarket anarchists to memory, Ayers recalled, and could quote what August Spies said to the court about \"a subterranean fire about to blaze up.\" The Weathermen had come to Chicago that October after whipping themselves up in a kind of frenzy, as Ayers put it, remaking themselves \"into street fighters and persuading ourselves against all evidence that working-class youth were with us, that our uncompromising militancy was winning them over, and that Chicago would be the wild, unruly embodiment of the Revolutionary Youth Movement.\" If the Weathermen brought the Vietnam War home to the streets of Chicago, Ayers thought, \"August Spies and Albert Parsons would smile on us from their graves, and rest just a wee bit easier.\" But when the urban guerrilla fighter and his comrades raged through the city streets, broke windows, set fires and fought with police, no one joined them. Worse, they were beaten, shot, maced and brutally interrogated by law officers. Ayers somehow escaped arrest and rejoined a few street fighters at a prearranged spot. When the battered Weathermen gathered at the charred base of the Haymarket police statue for their final march, they were surrounded by cordons of infuriated police, he recalled. The curtain then fell on what Ayers called their \"theater of revolution.\" Bill Ayers, _Fugitive Days: A Memoir_ (New York: Penguin, 2003), pp. 162\u201363, 165, 168, 176.\n\nOn the killing of Hampton and Clark, who died in a hail of seventy-nine bullets from police revolvers, see Henry Hampton and Steve Fayer, _Voices of Freedom: An Oral_ _History of the Civil Rights Movement from the 1950s Through the 1980s_ (New York: Bantam Books, 1990) pp. 520\u201338.\n\nPress release from the Haymarket Square Workers Memorial Committee, April 25, 1969.\n\nHuebner, \"Haymarket Revisited,\" p. 16.\n\nJonah Raskin, ed., _The Weather Eye: Communiqu\u00e9s from the Weather Underground, May 1970\u2013May 1974_ (New York: Union Square Press, 1974), p. 5.\n\nHuebner, \"Haymarket Revisited,\" pp. 16, 22.\n\nQuote ibid., p. 14.\n\nThis official reference to the Haymarket martyrs as \"activists,\" not as anarchists\u2014along with everything else that transpired during the centennial ceremonies\u2014 enraged a band of 200 neo-anarchists who gathered in Chicago for the events, complete with black flags and banners with slogans such as \"Eat the Rich, Feed the Poor.\" Smith, _Urban Disorder_ (see Prologue, n. 14), p. 277.\n\nThe collection of documents and images is Roediger and Rosemont's _Haymarket_ _Scrapbook._ The walking tour is in Adelman, _Haymarket Revisited_ (see chap. 4, n. 20). Warren Lemming's cabaret production was published as _Cold Chicago: A Haymarket_ _Fable_ (Chicago: Charles H. Kerr, 2001). Scholarly publications include special issues of _International Labor and Working Class History_ 29 (Spring 1986), edited by David Montgomery, and _Chicago History_ 15 (Summer 1986), edited by Russell Lewis; Bruce C. Nelson's impressively researched monograph on the Chicago anarchist movement, _Beyond_ _the Martyrs_ (see chap. 3, n. 37); Charnan Simon's _The Story of the Haymarket Riot_ (Chicago: The Children's Press of Regensteiner Printing Enterprises, 1988); as well as chapters on the case in P. Foner, _May Day_ (see Epilogue, n. 13); Udo Achten, Mathias Reichelt and Reinhard Schultz, eds., _Mein Vaterland 1st International_ (Berlin: Asso Verlag, 1986); and Roediger and P. Foner, _Our Own Time_ (see chap. 1, n. 16). In 1993, a researcher found 1,000 articles and books in which the case was discussed (not simply mentioned) and another 200 \"imaginative works\" that involved the Haymarket characters and events. Robert W. Glenn, _The Haymarket Affair: An Annotated Bibliography_ (Westport, CT: Greenwood Press, 1993). Since then, other writers who have devoted chapters to the story include Smith, _Urban Disorder and the Shape of Belief_ (1995); Miller, _City of the Century_ (1996); Schneirov, _Labor and Urban Politics_ (1998); Marco d'Eramo, _Il maiale e il grattacielo_ (Milan: Feltrinelli Editore, 1999), translated into English as _The Pig and the Skyscraper: Chicago, A History of Our Future_ (London: Verso, 2002); James Green, _Taking History to Heart: The Power of the Past in Building Social_ _Movements_ (Amherst: University of Massachusetts Press, 2000); Palmer, _Cultures of_ _Darkness_ (2000); Clymer, _America's Culture of Terrorism_ (2003); and various entries in two superb encyclopedias of Chicago history: Schultz and Hast, eds., _Women Building_ _Chicago_ (see chap. 4, n. 17), and James R. Grossman, Ann Durkin Keating and Janice L. Reiff, eds., _The Encyclopedia of Chicago_ (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2004). Now researchers may also consult the Web site \"The Dramas of Haymarket\" ( www.chicagohistory.org\/dramas), created by the Chicago Historical Society and designed by the historian Carl Smith, and the Library of Congress digital transcript of the Haymarket trial at http:\/\/ www.memory.loc.gov\/ammem\/award98\/ichihtml\/haybuild.htm.\n\nThe landmark status came as a result of a Newberry Library project directed by James Grossman. The Waldheim site study was written by Robin Bachin, who argued that the memorial provided a symbol through which various groups could share pride in their radical heritage. \"Haymarket Martyrs Monument,\" National Historic Landmark Nomination by Robin Bachin for the Newberry Library, photocopy in author's possession. Also see Robin Bachin, \"Structuring Memory\u2014The Haymarket Martyrs' Memorial,\" _Cultural Resources Management_ 21 (1998), pp. 45\u201346; and Green, _Taking History_ _to Heart,_ pp. 130\u201332, 142\u201343.\n\nThe ceremony held to rededicate the martyrs' monument attracted 500 people to Waldheim on May 3, 1998, and, like nearly everything else about the case, it aroused protest and controversy. The whole affair infuriated some anarchists in attendance, who shouted protests against the very idea that the U.S. government would grant any kind of state recognition to men who died fighting against it. One critic bitterly noted that the labor union speakers all referred to Spies, Parsons and their comrades not as revolutionaries, but \"as 'labor activists' who died for 'workers' rights, good American trade unionists who died in the fight for an eight-hour day, a fair day's work for a fair day's pay, mom and apple pie.\" G. L. Doebler, \"The Contest for Memory: Haymarket Through a Revisionist Looking Glass,\" reprint from _Fifth Estate,_ Winter 1999, in a leaflet produced by the Louis Lingg League of Chicago, copies in author's possession.\n\nThe disaffected anarchists made a valid point. The memory of the Haymarket anarchists had been tamed when it was stripped of meaningful references to their revolutionary beliefs, violent speeches and confrontational tactics. Official commemorative efforts placed the Chicago anarchists within a legal discourse honoring dissenters who sacrificed themselves to expand civil liberties\u2014freedoms granted by the very state the anarchists aimed to dismantle. This redemptive narrative of Haymarket, common in the telling of other national tales of catastrophe, seemed to modern anarchists to be a betrayal of the martyrs' memory and a perversion of history. On a similar taming of Emma Goldman's memory, as part of constitutional history, see Oz Frankl, \"What Ever Happened to 'Red' Emma? Emma Goldman, From American Rebel to American Icon,\" _Journal of American History_ 83, no. 3 (December 1996), pp. 903\u201342.\n\nNonetheless, the labor movement's memory of Parsons, Spies and their mates as free-speech fighters and fearless organizers had truth on its side as well. After all, the International did call the rally in the Haymarket to make a peaceful protest against the killing of unarmed strikers who had been denied the right to picket. The anarchists did put themselves in harm's way time and again to exercise their freedoms of speech and assembly, because they knew that without such liberties they could not succeed in organizing the kind of mass movement they thought would change America.\n\nA variety of artistic works about Haymarket appeared after the 1986 centennial. In Chicago, filmmakers made two videos on the case, an artist fought a three-year battle with the Park District to create a public memorial to Lucy Parsons in Wicker Park using May Stevens's well-known portrait of Lucy and the city's Steppenwolf Theater produced _Haymarket Eight,_ written by Derek Goldman and Jessica Thebus. The videos, produced by Labor Beat in Chicago, are _The Road to Haymarket_ and _Train Wreck of Ideologies_ (laborbeat@findourinfo.com). On the spiral artwork dedicated to Lucy Parsons and its designer, Marjorie Woodruff, see Jeff Huebner, _Haymarket and Beyond: A Guide to_ _Wicker Park's Labor History Sites,_ pamphlet published by the Near Northwest Side Arts Council, 1996 (copy in author's possession), p. 8; and \"Dangerous Women,\" _Chicago_ _Reader,_ September 8, 1985, p. 1. May Stevens's painting featuring the 1903 photo of Lucy Parsons overlaid with her own handwritten words (\"Women are the slaves of slaves\") is reproduced in _Images of Labor,_ edited by Moe Foner (New York: Pilgrim Press, 1981), facing p. 35. On the Steppenwolf production, see _Northwestern University_ _Alumni Magazine,_ Fall 2000, pp. 39\u201342. Other interpretive works of note include Harold A. Zlotnik, _Toys of Desperation: A Haymarket Mural in Verse_ (Interlaken, NY: Heart of the Lakes Press, 1987); and _Haymarket Heritage: The Memoirs of Irving S._ _Abrams,_ edited by David Roediger and Phyllis Boanes (Chicago: Charles H. Kerr, 1989). A new fictional version of the story also appeared in Martin Duberman's evocative _Haymarket: A Novel_ (New York: Seven Stories Press, 2003). Greg Guma's play _Inquisitions_ _and Other Unamerican Activities_ was performed in Burlington, Vermont, in May 2003 (a CD can be purchased at the Web site www.towardfreedom.com). Zayd Dohrn's play _Haymarket_ was performed in Boston in November 2003. Another play, _Day of Reckoning,_ written by Melody Cooper (who also plays the role of Lucy Parsons), was performed in New York in February 2005; it was reviewed in the _New York Times,_ February 10, 2005.\n\nThe Haymarket affair marked Americans' first experience with what would today be called terrorism, even though the scale of what happened on May 4, 1886, is difficult to compare with mass murders of civilians that have taken place in modern times. Nonetheless, the anarchists did make serious threats to use dynamite against their enemies in order to terrorize the authorities and the public\u2014and this was clearly a result of the Haymarket bombing. It thus makes sense to return to the affair as the starting point for studying how Americans first reacted to the fear of bombings and then how they responded when suspects, particularly aliens, were accused of conspiring to commit such violent acts. Indeed, some commentators believe the Haymarket affair should be regarded as a warning to citizens who allow the civil liberties of immigrants to be violated in the name of fighting terrorism. See Clymer, _America's Culture of Terrorism,_ pp. 38, 211; Ivins, \"Mr. Ashcroft, Let's Not Repeat Past Mistakes\" (see chap. 16, n. 55); and Studs Terkel, \"Constitution Abuse,\" _Chicago Tribune,_ July 11, 2003.\n\nThe term \"terrorist\" had not yet been invented in 1886, but the press, the police and prosecutors, and most members of the public regarded the Haymarket bomber very much like the public of today regards terrorists whose bombs kill civilians, even though the victims in 1886 were armed police officers who had shown no hesitation about attacking unarmed civilians. The bomber, whether or not he was an anarchist, clearly had no concern about harming civilians when he threw that hand grenade into a crowded street. Yet it seems likely, as Governor Altgeld suggested, that his act was one of revenge aimed directly at the police. In any case, the Chicago anarchists advocated the use of force as a defensive strategy for workers involved in life-or-death struggles with armed forces, not as a means of inspiring terror through indiscriminate killing.\n\nDespite the ways in which the story of the Haymarket affair resonates in an age preoccupied with a \"war on terror,\" I have not placed the Chicago anarchists and their activities within a discourse dominated by contemporary definitions of terrorism. The crime of murder committed with a bomb on May 4, 1886, whether it was intended as an act of revenge or was the work of an agent provocateur, seems, in retrospect, like the kind of terrorist attack that has became tragically common in the last few decades. However, the violence that came before and after the event on May 4 is better understood not as an early chapter in the history of terrorism, but as an episode in a different tradition of violent struggle between immigrant workers and their unions and the armed forces deployed against them.\n\nLara Kelland, \"Putting Haymarket to Rest?\" _Labor_ 2 (Spring 2005), pp. 31\u201338.\n\nDeanna Isaacs, \"A Monumental Effort Pays Off,\" _Chicago Reader,_ January 16, 2004, p. 22.\n\nStephen Kinzer, \"In Chicago, an Ambiguous Memorial to the Haymarket Attack,\" _New York Times,_ September 15, 2004, including quote from the city's cultural historian, Tim Samuelson.\n\nIbid.\n\nDarrow, _The Story of My Life_ (see chap. 16, n. 45), p. 99.\nIllustration Credits\n\nCredit for all images reproduced from John J. Flinn, _A History of the Chicago_ _Police,_ and Michael J. Schaack, _Anarchy and Anarchists,_ goes to the University Library, Rare Book Collection, University of Illinois at Chicago. Thanks also to the Imaging Services, Harvard College Widener Library; the Beinecke Rare Book and Manuscript Library, Yale University; the Library of Congress Photo Duplication Service; and the University of Michigan libraries.\n\n _President Lincoln's funeral hearse in Chicago:_ Photograph by S. M. Fassett. Library of Congress, USZ62-2454.\n\n _William H. Sylvis:_ From James Sylvis, _The Life of William Sylvis._\n\nWorkingman's Advocate _advertisement:_ From Sylvis, _The Life of William Sylvis._\n\n _A drawing from_ Frank Leslie's Illustrated Newspaper: From _Frank Leslie's Illustrated Newspaper,_ October 28, 1871. Chicago Historical Society, ICHi-02909.\n\n _Joseph Medill:_ Chicago Historical Society, ICHi-16828.\n\n _Socialist-led march:_ Chicago Historical Society, ICHi-19695.\n\n _Thalia Hall:_ From Michael J. Schaack, _Anarchy and Anarchists._\n\n _German Turner gymnasium:_ Chicago Historical Society, ICHi-14858.\n\n _Chicago's lumberyard district:_ From _Harper's Weekly,_ October 20, 1883.\n\n _Police attacking cabinetmakers:_ Chicago Historical Society, ICHi-14018.\n\n _The Battle of the Viaduct:_ From _Harper's Weekly,_ August 18, 1877.\n\n _Albert Parsons:_ Chicago Historical Society, ICHi-03695.\n\n _August Spies and Oscar Neebe:_ From Lucy Parsons, _The Life of Albert Parsons._\n\n _Johann Most:_ From Schaack, _Anarchy and Anarchists._\n\n _Map of Chicago during the early 1880s:_ From the Railway Terminal and Industrial Map of Chicago, Chicago: Industrial World Co., 1886. Map Room, Pusey Library, Harvard University. Mapmakers: Jonathan Wyss and Kelly Sandefer, Topaz Maps, Inc.\n\n _McCormick Reaper Works:_ From A. T. Andreas, _History of Chicago,_ Vol. II (1885).\n\n _Cyrus McCormick, Jr.:_ From John Moses and Joseph Kirkland, eds., _The History of_ _Chicago,_ Vol. II (1895).\n\n _Mayor Carter H. Harrison:_ Chicago Historical Society, IHCi-19662.\n\n _Captain John Bonfield:_ From John J. Flinn, _A History of the Chicago Police_ (1887).\n\nArbeiter-Zeitung _building:_ From Schaack, _Anarchy and Anarchists._\n\n _Anarchist banners:_ From Schaack, _Anarchy and Anarchists._\n\n _A group of worker militiamen:_ From Schaack, _Anarchy and Anarchists._\n\nThe Strike: From _Harper's Weekly,_ May 1, 1886.\n\n _Terence V. Powderly:_ From George McNeill, ed., _The Labor Movement: The Problem_ _of Today_ (1886).\n\n _Workers at Horn Brothers:_ From Chicago Historical Society, ICHi-20069.\n\n _Painting of August Spies:_ From Schaack, _Anarchy and Anarchists._\n\n _Map of Chicago with strike locations:_ From the Railway Terminal and Industrial Map of Chicago, Chicago: Industrial World Co., 1886. Map Room, Pusey Library, Harvard University. Mapmakers: Jonathan Wyss and Kelly Sandefer, Topaz Maps, Inc. Strike locations were originally identified on a map produced for the Newberry Library by Michael Conzen and Christopher Thale, in James R. Grossman, Ann Durkin Keating and Janice L. Reiff, eds., _The Encyclopedia of Chicago_ (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2004).\n\n _Haymarket circular:_ From Haymarket Collection, Beinecke Rare Book and Manuscript Library, Yale University.\n\n _Map of Haymarket Square:_ Based on map in Schaack, _Anarchy and Anarchists._\n\n _Patrolman Mathias J. Degan:_ Chicago Historical Society, ICHi-31340.\n\n _Samuel Fielden and Michael Schwab:_ From Schaack, _Anarchy and Anarchists._\n\n _Bohemian workers arrested by police:_ From Schaack, _Anarchy and Anarchists._\n\n _Lucy Parsons after one of her arrests:_ From Schaack, _Anarchy and Anarchists._\n\n _Thure de Thulstrup's depiction of events at the Haymarket:_ From _Harper's Weekly,_ May 15, 1886.\n\n _Julius S. Grinnell:_ From George N. McLean, _The Rise and Fall of Anarchy in America_ (1890).\n\n _Captain William Black and his wife, Hortensia:_ From McLean, _The Rise and Fall of_ _Anarchy in America._\n\n\" _The Great Trial_ \": From Schaack, _Anarchy and Anarchists._\n\n _Judge Joseph E. Gary:_ Chicago Historical Society, ICHi-18750.\n\n _August Spies:_ Chicago Historical Society, ICHi-03702.\n\n _Albert Parsons:_ Beinecke Rare Book and Manuscript Library, Yale University.\n\n _George Engel and Adolph Fischer:_ Chicago Historical Society, ICHi-03703 and ICHi-03692.\n\n _Nina Van Zandt:_ From McLean, _The Rise and Fall of Anarchy in America._\n\n _Cook County Jail cells at visiting time:_ Chicago Historical Society, ICHi-03688.\n\n _Samuel Gompers and John Swinton:_ From McNeill, _The Labor Movement._\n\n _George Schilling and Henry Demarest Lloyd:_ Labadie Collection, University of Michigan, and Chicago Historical Society, ICHi-21779.\n\n _William Dean Howells:_ From _Harper's Weekly,_ June 19, 1886.\n\n _Governor Richard J. Oglesby:_ Chicago Historical Society, ICHi-31331.\n\n _Louis Lingg:_ Bienecke Rare Book and Manuscript Library, Yale University.\n\n\" _The Execution_ \": From Schaack, _Anarchy and Anarchists._\n\n _Police statue in Haymarket Square:_ Chicago Historical Society, ICHi-14452.\n\n _Haymarket Martyrs' Monument at Waldheim:_ Illinois Labor History Society.\n\n _Governor John Peter Altgeld:_ From L. Parsons, _The Life of Albert Parsons._\n\n _George M. Pullman:_ Chicago Historical Society, ICHi-32204.\n\n _Lucy Parsons in 1903:_ From L. Parsons, _The Life of Albert Parsons._\n\n _Studs Terkel speaking at Haymarket rally:_ Illinois Labor History Society.\n\n**JAMES GREEN**\n\n _Death in the Haymarket_\n\nJames Green is a professor of history at the University of Massachusetts Boston. He grew up outside of Chicago and now lives with his family in Somerville, Massachusetts.\nFIRST ANCHOR BOOKS EDITION, MARCH 2007\n\n _Copyright \u00a9 2006 by James Green_\n\nAnchor Books and colophon are registered trademarks of Random House, Inc.\n\nThe Library of Congress has cataloged the Pantheon edition as follows:  \nGreen, James R., [date]  \nDeath in the Haymarket: a story of Chicago, the first labor movement and the bombing that divided gilded age America \/ James Green.  \np. cm.  \nIncludes bibliographical references.  \n1. Labor movement\u2014Illinois\u2014Chicago\u2014History\u201419th century. 2. Haymarket  \nSquare Riot, Chicago, Ill., 1886. 3. Working class\u2014Illinois\u2014Chicago\u2014 History\u201419th century. 4. Chicago (Ill.)\u2014Social conditions. 5. Social conflict\u2014United States\u2014History\u201419th century. I. Title.  \nHD8085.C53G74 2006  \n977.3'11041\u2014dc22 2005051844\n\nwww.anchorbooks.com\n\nwww.randomhouse.com\n\neISBN: 978-0-307-42547-8\n\nv3.0\n","meta":{"redpajama_set_name":"RedPajamaBook"}}