Prison Memoirs of an Anarchist - The Anarchist Library

260 Pages·2007·1.2 MB·English

“Whatcher in for?” It comes from somewhere alongside.
“Can’ttalk,eh?Sorderly,guess.”
What am I in for? Oh, yes! It’s Frick. Well, I shall not stay
herelong,anyhow.Theywillsoontakemeout—theywilllean Prison Memoirs of an
me against a wall — a slimy wall like this, perhaps. They will
Anarchist
bandage my eyes, and the soldiers there… No: they are going
tohangme.Well,Ishallbegladwhentheytakemeoutofhere.
Iamsodry.I’msuffocating…
…Theuprightironsofthebarreddoorgrowfaint,andmelt
intoasingleline;itadjustsitselfcrosswisebetweentheupper Alexander Berkman
and side sills. It resembles a scaffold, and there is a man sink-
ingthebeamintotheground.Heleansitcarefullyagainstthe
wall, and picks up a spade. Now he stands with one foot in
the hole. It is the carpenter! He hit me on the head. From be-
hind,too,thecoward.Ifheonlyknewwhathehaddone.Heis
oneofthePeople:wemustgotothem,enlightenthem.Iwish
he’d look up. He doesn’t know his real friends. He looks like
a Russian peasant, with his broad back. What hairy arms he
has! If he would only look up… Now he sinks the beam into
the ground; he is stamping down the earth. I will catch his
eye as he turns around. Ah, he didn’t look! He has his eyes
always on the ground. just like the muzhik. Now he is taking
afewstepsbackward,criticallyexamininghiswork.Heseems
pleased. How peculiar the cross — piece looks. The horizon-
tal beam seems too long; out of proportion. I hope it won’t
break. I remember the feeling I had when my brother once
showed me the picture of a man dangling from the branch
of a tree. Underneath was inscribed, The Execution of Stenka
Razin.“Didn’tthebranchbreak?”Iasked.“No,Sasha,”mother
replied,“Stenka—well,heweighednothing”;andIwondered
at the peculiar look she exchanged with Maxim. But mother
smiled sadly at me, and wouldn’t explain. Then she turned to
my brother: “Maxim, you must not bring Sashenka such pic-
tures. He is too young.” “Not too young, mamotchka, to learn 1912
that Stenka was a great man.” “What! You young fool,” father
44
Chapter 5. The Third Degree
I
Theclankingofthekeysgrowsfainterandfainter;thesound
offootstepsdiesaway.Theofficersaregone.Itisarelieftobe
alone. Their insolent looks and stupid questions, insinuations
andthreats,—howdisgustingandtiresomeitallis!Asenseof
completeindifferencepossessesme.Istretchmyselfoutonthe
woodenbench,runningalongthewallofthecell,andatonce
fallasleep.
Iawakefeelingtiredandchilly.Allisquietanddarkaround
me.Isitnight?Myhandgropesblindly,hesitantly.Something
wet and clammy touches my cheek. In sudden affright I draw
back. The cell is damp and musty; the foul air nauseates me.
Slowly my foot feels the floor, drawing my body forward, all
mysensesonthealert.Iclutchthebars.Thefeelofironisre-
assuring. Pressed close to the door, my mouth in the narrow
opening,Idrawquick,shortbreaths.Iamhot,perspiring.My
throatisdrytocracking;Icannotswallow.“Water!Iwantwa-
ter!” The voice frightens me. Was it I that spoke? The sound
rolls up; it rises from gallery to gallery, and strikes the oppo-
site corner under the roof; now it crawls underneath, knocks
inthedistanthollows,andabruptlyceases.
“Holloa,there!Whatcherinfor?”
Thevoiceseemstoissueatoncefromallsidesofthecorridor.
Butthesoundrelievesme.Nowtheairfeelsbetter;itisnotso
difficult to breathe. I begin to distinguish the outline of a row
of cells opposite mine. There are dark forms at the doors. The
menwithinlooklikebeastsrestlesslypacingtheircages.
43
him,whensuddenlytheotherman,whosepresenceIhadquite
forgotten,leapsuponme.Istruggletoloosenhishold.Helooks
slenderandsmall.Iwouldnothurthim:Ihavenobusinesswith
him.SuddenlyIhearthecry,“Murder!Help!”Myheartstands
Contents
still as I realize that it is Frick shouting. “Alive?” I wonder. I
hurlthestrangerasideandfireatthecrawlingfigureofFrick.
The man struck my hand, — I have missed! He grapples with
me, and we wrestle across the room. I try to throw him, but PartI 11
spying an opening between his arm and body, I thrust the re-
volver against his side and aim at Frick, cowering behind the Chapter1.TheCalloftheHomestead 12
chair. I pull the trigger. There is a click — but no explosion! I . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 12
By the throat I catch the stranger, still clinging to me, when II . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 13
suddenlysomethingheavystrikesmeonthebackofthehead. III . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 25
Sharppainsshootthroughmyeyes.Isinktothefloor,vaguely IV . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 27
consciousoftheweaponslippingfrommyhands.
Chapter2.TheSeatofWar 31
“Where is the hammer? Hit him, carpenter!” Confused
voices ring in my cars. Painfully I strive to rise. The weight
Chapter3.TheSpiritofPittsburgh 36
of many bodies is pressing on me. Now — it’s Frick’s voice!
I . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 36
Not dead? … I crawl in the direction of the sound, dragging
II . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 37
the struggling men with me. I must get the dagger from my
III . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 39
pocket — I have it! Repeatedly I strike with it at the legs of
themannearthewindow.IhearFrickcryoutinpain—there Chapter4.TheAttentat 41
is much shouting and stamping — my arms are pulled and
twisted,andIamliftedbodilyfromthefloor. Chapter5.TheThirdDegree 43
I . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 43
II . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 45
Chapter6.TheJail 50
I . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 50
II . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 51
III . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 52
IV . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 55
V. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 56
VI . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 59
VII . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 62
42 3
VIII . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 67
IX . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 69
X . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 71
XI . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 78
Chapter 4. The Attentat
XII . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 81
XIII . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 86
Chapter7:TheTrial 89 ThedoorsofFrick’sprivateoffice,totheleftofthereception-
room, swings open as the colored attendant emerges, and I
catch a flitting glimpse of a black-bearded, well-knit figure at
PartII 93
atableinthebackoftheroom.
“Mistah Frick is engaged. He can’t see you now, sah,” the
Chapter1.DesperateThoughts 94
negrosays,handingbackmycard.
I . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 94
Itakethepasteboard,returnittomycase,andwalkslowly
II . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 98
out of the reception-room. But quickly retracing my steps, I
III . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 101
pass through the gate separating the clerks from the visitors,
andbrushingtheastoundedattendantaside,Istepintotheof-
Chapter2.TheWilltoLive 109
ficeontheleft,andfindmyselffacingFrick.
I . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 109
Foraninstantthesunlight,streamingthroughthewindows,
II . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 111
dazzles me. I discern two men at the further end of the long
III . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 114
table.
Chapter3.SpectralSilence 116 “Fr-,”Ibegin.Thelookofterroronhisfacestrikesmespeech-
less.Itisthedreadoftheconsciouspresenceofdeath.“Heun-
Chapter4.ARayofLight 120 derstands,” it flashes through my mind. With a quick motion
I draw the revolver. As I raise the weapon, I see Frick clutch
Chapter5.TheShop 124 with both hands the arm of the chair, and attempt to rise. I
I . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 124 aim at his head. “Perhaps he wears armor,” I reflect. With a
II . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 127 look of horror he quickly averts his face, as I pull the trigger.
III . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 129 There is a flash, and the high-ceilinged room reverberates as
with the booming of cannon. I hear a sharp, piercing cry, and
Chapter6.MyFirstLetter 131
seeFrickonhisknees,hisheadagainstthearmofthechair.I
I . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 131
feel calm and possessed, intent upon every movement of the
II . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 132
man.Heislyingheadandshouldersunderthelargearmchair,
withoutsoundormotion.“Dead?”Iwonder.Imustmakesure.
Chapter7.Wingie 135
About twenty-five feet separate us. I take a few steps toward
4 41
fine ladies on horseback smile and laugh. What is the misery Chapter8.TotheGirl 142
of the People to them? Probably they are laughing at me.
Laugh! Laugh! You despise me. I am of the People, but you Chapter9.Persection 146
belongtotheFricks.Well,itmaysoonbeourturntolaugh… I . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 146
Returning to Pittsburgh in the evening, I learn that the II . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 151
conferencesbetweentheCarnegieCompanyandtheAdvisory
Chapter10.TheYegg 153
Committee of the strikers haveterminated in the final refusal
I . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 153
of Frick to consider the demands of the millmen The last
II . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 158
hopeisgone!Themasterisdeterminedtocrushhisrebellious
slaves.
Chapter11:TheRouteSubRosa 167
Chapter12.Zuchthausblothen 170
I . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 170
II . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 172
III . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 176
Chapter13:TheJudas 178
Chapter14.TheDip 187
Chapter15.TheUrgeofSex 192
Chapter16.TheWarden’sThreat 199
I . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 199
II . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 203
III . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 205
Chapter17.The“Basket”Cell 208
Chapter18.TheSolitary 210
I . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 210
II . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 211
III . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 216
IV . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 217
Chapter19.Memory—Guests 220
40 5
Chapter20.ADayintheCell-House 227 There is a piercing scream. The Deputy Sheriff catches the
I . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 227 limpbodyofthewidowinhisarms.
II . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 227
III . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 231
III
IV . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 234
V. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 236
East End, the fashionable residence quarter of Pittsburgh,
VI . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 243
liesbaskingintheafternoonsun.Thebroadavenuelookscool
VII . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 245
and inviting: the stately trees touch their shadows across the
carriage road, gently nodding their heads in mutual approval.
Chapter21.TheDeedsoftheGoodtotheEvil 249
A steady procession of equipages fills the avenue, the richly
caparisoned horses and uniformed flunkies lending color and
Chapter22.TheGristofthePrison-Mill 255
lifetothescene.Acavalcadeispassingme.Thelaughterofthe
I . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 255
ladies sounds joyous and care-free. Their happiness irritates
II . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 257
me.IamthinkingofHomestead.InmindIseethesomberfence
III . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 263
thefortificationsandcannon;thepiteousfigureofthewidow
IV . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 266
rises before me, the little children weeping, and again I hear
Chapter23.TheScalesofJustice 270 theanguishedcryofabrokenheart,ashatteredbrain…
I . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 270 And here all is joy and laughter. The gentlemen seem
II . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 272 pleased; the ladies are happy. Why should they concern
III . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 274 themselves with misery and want? The common folk are fit
IV . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 275 only to be their slaves, to feed and clothe them, build these
beautiful palaces, and be content with the charitable crust.
Chapter24.ThoughtsThatStoleOutofPrison 280 “Take what I give you,” Frick commands. Why, here is his
house!Aluxuriousplace,withlargegarden,barns,andstable.
Chapter25.HowShalltheDepthsCry? 283
Thatstablethere,—itismorecheerfulandhabitablethanthe
I . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 283
widow’shome.Ah,life couldbe made livable,beautiful! Why
II . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 285
should it not be? Why so much misery and strife? Sunshine,
III . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 286
flowers, beautiful things are all around me. That is life! joy
andpeace…No!TherecanbenopeacewithsuchasFrickand
Chapter26.HidingtheEvidence 291
these parasites in carriages riding on our backs, and sucking
I . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 291
the blood of the workers. Fricks, vampires, all of them — I
II . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 294
almost shout aloud — they are all one class. All in a cabal
III . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 295
against my class, the toilers, the producers. An impersonal
conspiracy, perhaps; but a conspiracy nevertheless. And the
Chapter27.Love’sDungeonFlower 299
6 39
she herself was hardly able to walk. Frick was very kind, she Chapter28.ForSafety 310
thought;hehadpromisedtoseewhatcouldbedone.Shewould
not listen to the neighbors urging her to sue the Company Chapter29.DreamsofFreedom 312
fordamages.“Thecranewasrotten,”herhusband’sfriendsin- I . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 312
formedher;“thegovernmentinspectorhadcondemnedit.”But II . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 316
Mr. Frick was kind, and surely he knew best about the crane.
Chapter30.WhitewashedAgain 319
Didhenotsayitwasherpoorhusband’sowncarelessness?
She feels very thankful to good Mr. Frick for extending the
Chapter31.“AndByAllForgot,WeRotandRot” 325
mortgage.Shehadlivedinsuchmortaldreadlestherownlittle
I . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 325
home,wheredearJohnhadbeensuchakindhusbandtoher,be
II . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 329
taken away, and her children driven into the street. She must
III . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 331
neverforgettoasktheLord’sblessinguponthegoodMr.Frick.
Every day she repeats to her neighbors the story of her visit Chapter32.TheDeviousnessofReformLawApplied334
to the great man; how kindly he received her, how simply he
talkedwithher.“Justlikeusfolks,”thewidowsays. Chapter33.TheTunnel 338
SheisnowtellingthewonderfulstorytoneighborMary,the I . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 338
hunchback,who,withundiminishedinterest,hearstherecital II . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 342
for the twentieth time. It reflects such importance to know
someonethathadcomeinintimatecontactwiththeIronKing; Chapter34.TheDeathofDick 345
why,intohisverypresence!andeventalkedtothegreatmag-
Chapter35.AnAlliancewiththeBirds 347
nate!
I . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 347
“Dear Mr. Frick,” says, the widow is narrating, “dear Mr.
Frick”says“lookatmypoorlittleangels—”
Chapter36.TheUnderground 356
Aknockonthedoorinterruptsher.“Mustbeone-eyedKate,”
thewidowobserves.“Comein!Comein!”shecallsout,cheer-
Chapter37.AnxiousDays 363
fully.“PoorKate!”sheremarkswithasigh.“Herman’sgotthe
consumption.Won’tlastlong,Ifear.” Chapter38.“HowMenTheirBrothersMaim” 369
A tall, rough-looking man stands in the doorway. Behind I . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 369
him appear two others. Frightened, the widow rises from the II . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 370
chair.Oneofthechildrenbeginstocry,andrunstohidebehind III . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 373
hismother.
“Beg pard’n, ma’am,” the tall man says. “Have no fear. We Chapter39.ANewPlanofEscape 375
areDeputySheriffs.Readthis.”Heproducesanofficiallooking I . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 375
paper.“Orderedtodispossessyou.Verysorry,ma’am,butget II . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 377
ready.Quick,gotadozenmoreof” III . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 377
38 7
Chapter40.DonetoDeath 381 ThespiritoftheIronCitycharacterizesthenegotiationscar-
I . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 381 ried on between the Carnegie Company and the Homestead
II . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 382 men. Henry Clay Frick, in absolute control of the firm, incar-
natesthespiritofthefurnace,isthelivingemblemofhistrade.
Chapter41.THeShockatBuffalo 388 The olive branch held out by the workers after their victory
I . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 388 overthePinkertonshasbeenrefused,Theultimatumissuedby
II . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 389 FrickisthelastwordofCaesar:theunionofthesteel-workers
III . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 391 istobecrushed,completelyandabsolutely,evenatthecostof
sheddingthebloodofthelastmaninHomestead;theCompany
Chapter42.MarredLives 399
will deal only with individual workers, who must accept the
I . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 399
terms offered, without question or discussion; he, Frick, will
II . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 399
operate the mills with non-union labor, even if it should re-
III . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 401
quirethecombinedmilitarypoweroftheStateandtheUnion
IV . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 404
tocarrytheplanintoexecution.Millmendisobeyingtheorder
to return to work under the new schedule of reduced wages
Chapter43.“PassingtheLoveofaWoman” 409
aretobedischargedforthwith,andevictedfromtheCompany
Chapter44.Love’sDaring 419 houses.
Chapter45.TheBloomof“TheBarrenStaff” 425
II
I . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 425
II . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 428
Inanobscurealley,inthetownofHomestead,therestands
aone-storyframehouse,lookingoldandforlorn.Itisoccupied
Chapter46.AChild’sHeart-Hunger 431
bythewidowJohnsonandherfoursmallchildren.Sixmonths
I . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 431
ago,thebreakingofacraneburiedherhusbandundertwohun-
II . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 432
dredtonsofmetal.Whenthebodywascarriedintothehouse,
the distracted woman refused to recognize in the mangled re-
Chapter47.Chum 435
mains her big, strong “Jack.” For weeks the neighborhood re-
I . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 435
soundedwithherfrenziedcry,“Myhusband!Where’smyhus-
II . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 436
band?”Butthelovingcareofkind-heartedneighborshasnow
III . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 437
somewhatrestoredthepoorwoman’sreason.Accompaniedby
Chapter48.LastDays 443 her four little orphans, she recently gained admittance to Mr.
Frick. On her knees she implored him not to drive her out of
herhome.Herpoorhusbandwasdead,shepleaded;shecould
notpayoffthemortgage;thechildrenweretooyoungtowork;
8 37
PartIII 449
Chapter1.TheWorkhouse 450
I . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 450
Chapter 3. The Spirit of II . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 451
III . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 452
Pittsburgh
IV . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 454
PartIV 457
I
Chapter1.TheResurrection 458
Likeagigantichivethetwincitiesjutoutonthebanksofthe
I . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 458
Ohio,heavilybreathingthespiritoffeverishactivity,andper-
II . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 459
meatingtheatmospherewiththerageoflife.Ceaselesslyflow
III . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 460
thestreamsofhumanants,meetinganddiverging,theirpaths
IV . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 463
crossingandrecrossing,leavingintheirtrailathousandwind-
V. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 463
ing passages, mounds of structure, peaked and domed. Their
VI . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 464
hugeshadowsovercasttheyellowthreadofgleamingriverthat
VII . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 465
curvesandtwistsitspainfulway,nowhuggingtheshore,now
VIII . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 468
hidinginaffright,andagaintimidlystretchingitsarmstoward
IX . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 470
thewrathfulmonstersthatbelchfireandsmokeintothemidst
X . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 472
of the giant hive. And over the whole is spread the gloom of
XI . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 477
thickfog,oppressiveanddispiriting—thesymbolofourexis-
XII . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 479
tence,withallitsdarknessandcold.
This is Pittsburgh, the heart of American industrialism,
whose spirit molds the life of the great Nation. The spirit of
Pittsburgh, the Iron City! Cold as steel, hard as iron, its prod-
ucts. These are the keynote of the great Republic, dominating
all other chords, sacrificing harmony to noise, beauty to bulk.
Its torch of liberty is a furnace fire, consuming, destroying,
devastating: a country-wide furnace, in which the bones and
marrow of the producers, their limbs and bodies, their health
andblood,arecastintoBessemersteel,rolledintoarmorplate,
and converted into engines of murder to be consecrated to
Mammonbyhishighpriests,theCarnegies,theFricks.
36 9
stand up against ’em: they are not Pinkertons. And we can’t
fight the Government of Pennsylvania. Perhaps the Governor
won’tsendthemilitia.Butifhedoes,Ireckonthebestwayfor
uswillbetomakefriendswiththem.Guessit’stheonlything
wecando.That’sallIhavetosay.”
Theassemblybreaksup,dejected,dispirited.
35