IL State Historical Society

Book: IL State Historical Society Publication (Issue 9)

1904 or 1909 book. Not the IL State Historical Society, but further along the shelf.

Google Books: http://tinyurl.com/jrrtswl

A Glimpse At The Future.

Three Hundred Years Hence - A Prophecy.

By Professor John Russell

Written in 1830

But ye! - ye are chang'd since I saw ye last.

The shadow of ages has round you been cast,

Ye are chang'd - ye are chang'd; and I see not here,

What I once saw in the long vanished year.

- Mrs. Hemans

Where is the American that feels a deep interest in the fate of his country who has not sometimes wished like Dr. Franklin that he could burst the cerements of the grave and revisit his native land after the lapse of a few centuries? Such a wish is certainly pardonable in a citizen of the United States, for his government is yet an experiment, and his native land but just started in the career of glory. He sees the splendor of its morning sun, and it is natural that he should desire to awake when it has climbed to the meridian. But alas! the power of return is not given us, and we can only conjecture from the present march of improvement, the future population and resources of our country. For myself, I never feel so strongly the wish to return as I do while riding over one of our Illinois prairies, with no boundary before me but the blue horizon. The stillness that reigns over these wide regions of verdure and flowers will one day be broken and the hum of a busy population be heard, where the deer now graze in fearless security. The improvements which the last twenty years have wrought in the west are truly surprising - what, then, may we not expect from two or three centuries with all the increase of means that will exist?

While on a visit to a friend who resides on the high table land that extends beyond that part of the American bottom which lies opposite the county of St Louis, I took a solitary walk one afternoon in that wild, uncultivated region. The scattered forest trees, the oak shrubs, the wild flowers and the grass had "felt the warm breath of spring." The birds were busy preparing their nests, and the joyful song of returning spring was mingled with their labors.

In no part of our extensive country is spring a more lovely season than in Illinois. There is something in the pure, bland air, in the deep blue of the heavens, over which a single cloud is Bailing and throwing its long and moving shadow on the earth; in the ceaseless plaint of the mourning dove; there is something in all this joined with the stillness and solitude of our boundless prairies, that finds its way to the heart.

Wearied with my walk, I sat down at the foot of an oak on one of the high ridges that command an extensive prospect of the table land. In the edge of the landscape was an Indian mound of the largest dimensions, crowned with trees equal in size to those that grew around it. As I gazed upon the mound a fit of dreamy musing came over me. I thought of the people who reposed in that sepulchre of other years. "The flood of ages" had rolled over them, and its unceasing wave was still sweeping on. What changes, thought I, have been wrought upon this spot, wild as it now is, and what changes are yet to follow! In three hundred years, the shortest date ever assigned to the most recent of these mounds, how changed will be this landscape? I was attempting to pierce through the intervening ages, and behold with "my mind's eye," the landscape as it would appear three hundred years hence; when a tall, majestic figure stood before me. A long snowy beard swept his bosom, and the furrows of countless years were on his forehead. I felt my hair stand erect as I gazed upon him. He waved the wand which he held in his hand and addressed me in a tone that thrilled on every nerve: "Child of clay," said he, "I am the genius of this valley! From the time this globe rolled from the hand of Omnipotence, I have been its guardian and directed its destiny. From my throne on the Rocky Mountains I have seen the whale spouting in the ocean that once covered its surface. The destined period when it was to be drained for the residence of man at length arrived. Since that period I have seen powerful nations rise and fall. The schemes of war and ambition, the yell of victory, the soft strains of peace and domestic love have been here; but all that belongs to man soon joins itself to years and scenes that never have been. The white man has come, and the light of science beams on his track - the volume of destiny is now rapidly unfolding its pages. Son of mortals! I have heard your wish to behold this region as it will appear three hundred years hence. It is granted. For you I have rolled the tide of ages three centuries onward! Arise, and behold this region as it will be three hundred years hence!"

He touched me with his wand and I sprang to my feet. The oak, at whose foot I had just sat, was no longer there; the forest trees, the shrubs and the wild flowers had disappeared, and I found myself in the midst of a luxuriant vineyard. I cast my eye over the tract which I had so lately traversed, but not a feature was left of its former appearance. My first impulse was to return to the house of my friend; but I soon recollected that he, and all whom I had known were, long since, mingled with their native dust; and in the beautiful language of scripture, "the places that once knew them would know them no more forever." I bent my steps to a cottage which I saw at no great distance. As I passed along I heard the simple song of a vine dresser, in a language which, at first, I did not recognize as English. I reached the hedge that enclosed the field and passed through a gate, near the cottage, into a broad and paved highway. The people stared upon me with astonishment, and the children set up a shout of surprise at my strange dress. In the streets was a stream of people, some on foot, and some in carriages of every description, loaded with various commodities, all going to or returning from the west. This was a sufficient indication that St Louis or some other town west of me had become the emporium of an immense commerce. I followed the moving mass of human beings in that direction. The road on either side was bounded by a hedge, and as far as the eye could extend its vision, houses and cottages, gardens and vineyards were thickly sprinkled. The small portion into which the soil was divided, showed that no law of primogeniture, giving all to the favored eldest, had yet prevailed.

From extreme old age to childhood all were busy. Before the doors, children were seen plaiting straw, or picking leaves for the silkworms, and old men preparing the bands to confine the grapevine to the stake. Next to the road, the country was almost one continued village. As I journeyed on, I saw nothing to remind me of the former appearance of that region - even the natural features of the country, hill and dale, had changed under the all-subduing hand of human industry. A few miles onward, I came to a large village, and lingered there to admire the new and strange commodities suspended at the windows of the shops. A troop of boys soon followed me, attracted by the oddness of my dress. To avoid future inconvenience, I entered a clothes shop, and exchanged mine for a suit of such as were worn by others. I could not avoid smiling at the strange appearance I made in my new costume.

I now passed on to the west, without further interruption, and saw the denseness of the population constantly increasing. The cultivated land resembled one continued garden; and the passing throng received new accessions from every road that led into the great highway. At length I reached a spot which I recognized in a moment - the bluff that overlooks the great American Bottom! How beautiful a prospect was presented! The deep forest that once covered it had disappeared, and, as far as I could distinguish from the heights of the bluff, the whole bottom was teeming with population. "Every rood maintained its man." The little squares of land, bounded by a green hedge row, with a house or cottage to each, looked beautifully in the distance. At intervals, columns of smoke were thrown up from the chimneys of large manufactories, and the sound of the steam engine was heard in every direction. Industry is not among the virtues of a slave, and I knew by the busy throng of old and young around the low, straw-thatched, but neat cottages, that my native land was yet free.

My thoughts reverted to St Louis, and I was ruminating upon the various changes that had probably taken place in its wealth and population, when that city, with its thousand spires, burst upon my view! How glorious was the sight presented by the great "Father of Waters!" A forest of masts lined both shores, for miles; and every flag of Europe waved at the mast head of the steam ships that ploughed its waters. I entered the city by one of the iron bridges that spanned the river. The streets near the water first excited my attention. The bustle of loading and unloading the vessels; the constant discharge of oannon from steam ships arriving and departing, carrying on commerce with every portion of the globe; the various costumes and dialects of merchants and sailors from distant regions of the world, prepared me to learn, without surprise, that St Louis, in the interior of the most fertile region of the globe, far exceeded, in wealth and population, the largest city of the eastern hemisphere.

The language of the city bore a much nearer affinity to my own than that of the country. Many new words had been introduced, and others had acquired a new definition and pronunciation; but I had less difficulty in understanding those who appeared to be the educated. Subsequently I was informed that the English language was divided into three distinct dialects, differing from each other in writing and in sound; that of the British Islands, that of America, and that of India; produced by the difference of climate, governments, customs, and the languages of the people intermingling with each other.

I left the streets near the wharves, and passed a great distance beyond the former boundary of the city, yet all was still dense. The display of merchandise from the lofty buildings that lined the streets, was rich beyond description. The stream of passing people, the rattling of carriages on the pavement, the cries of people vending their commodities in the street, and the din of the artisans' hammer, were all mingled together in one confused sound. I was gratified that so large a proportion of buildings were devoted to religious worship.

I was particularly anxious to learn the state of American literature, and the relative esteem in which English and American authors were held. For that purpose I entered one of the immense book stores, and obtained permission to survey their shelves. My curiosity was fully gratified, but I will not reveal too many "secrets of my prison house."

I obtained information of past ages from an antiquary, whom I found in the store; but was astonished at the many gross errors into which he had fallen about the times in which I had first lived. I asked of him the estimation in which some of our present great men were held. Alas! their very names were unknown - they had followed those of the "vulgar mass" into the gulf of "black oblivion." Man, brief in his mortal existence, yet more brief in the remembrance of others. The shouts of the mob at the success of political partisan, is not the voice of after ages. Superiority of mind only, is immortal.

The sun was now setting over this wilderness of houses. His parting beams flamed on the gilded spires of the metropolis, and reminded me of the years when I had beheld him sinking behind an unbroken line of forest. I remembered the friend with whom I had often walked, at that hour, on the banks of a romantic little lake in the environs of the city. I wished once more to tread the spot, hallowed by the memory of a long lost friend. With some difficulty I reached the vicinity of the lake. A thick cloud of smoke hung over that portion of the city, caused by the thousand fires of the steam engines, which the lake supplied with water. Here was the theatre of the most extensive manufactories of the west. I would gladly have entered these manufactories, but the labors of the day were closed, and I heard only the expiring sound of business and saw the fading wreathes of smoke. The artisans were retiring to their houses in the high buildings of the dirty and narrow streets. I rejoiced, as I saw this multitude of all ages and sexes, that employment and sustenance were afforded to so numerous a population, and I remembered with exultation, that I had warmly advocated every plan that was suggested, to induce emigration to the west, even that of giving the lands which belonged to all, as a bribe to entice settlers. Now was the good policy of these measures apparent wherever I went, in the overflowing population of country and town.

I lingered in this section of the city till the broad full moon arose, and threw her beams from Illinois, in a long tract of light, which the broken surface of the river sent back in a thousand glittering fragments. I thought of the years when I had gazed upon the same moon that now looked down with a smile upon the graves of all who had lived in the same age with me. Absorbed with these meditations, I leaned against the corner of a manufactory. Presently, an indistinct murmur arose, and broke the spell that bound me. I listened with a vague presentiment that all was not right, and removed for concealment into the shade of a building. People were gliding quickly along, like specters, evidently wishing to be unobserved. I had not remained long in that place when a wild cry arose from every quarter of the manufacturing section, and the bells from every spire pealed an alarm. Multitudes of enraged manufacturers immediately arranged themselves under the command of their leaders, and cry of "bread! bread! bread!" was heard in every terrific tone that the human voice can give it. An attempt was made by the insurgents to demolish the buildings of the most obnoxious of their employers, but the labor was too great, and the cry "fire them" scarcely had died away, when a thousand fires glared on the sky. A scene of plunder commenced, that baffles description; women and children of the manufacturers, squalid with hunger and rags, rushed with frantic yells into the buildings, for food and plunder. While this was acting, the government of the town had declared martial law, the city guards were ordered to the disaffected quarter, and the militia summoned to arms. The noise of the approaching troops sounded nearer and nearer, and the insurgents posted themselves in the most advantageous position for battle.

Their chiefs rushed among them, animating them to the most deadly resistance, by reminding them of their starving families, and of the ignominious death that awaited all who were taken. The whole section was now red with conflagration, and the insurgents, as the flames glared on their faces, looked like a horde of demons, just escaped from the Gulf.

I found myself directly between the city troops and the insurgents with no chance of escaping either way. The artillery of both parties was just ready to discharge, and sweep through the street in which I stood. But one hope was left me; that of joining the city troops and watching my opportunity of deserting their ranks. I ran towards them, but as I approached, a soldier seized me and declared I was one of the insurgents. My loud protestations of innocence availed not; the voice of reason and humanity was unheard, and vengeance was the cry. An officer ordered me instantly put to death. The soldier was prompt in obedience. He drew his sword. Horror seized all my faculties when I saw its glittering edge descending upon my naked head, with a force that - that - Awoke me! Yes, awoke me; for I had fallen asleep at the root of a long oak.

The trees were sending large shadows to the east, the cattle were returning homeward, and the tinkling of their bells, and the evening carols of the birds had taken the place of the late noise of approaching conflict. The vineyards and hedges, the thronged highway and overcrowded population, had vanished with my waking, and the country had assumed all its former wildness.

Now, gentle reader, peradventure, thou art not pleased with this dream, which I have related unto thee; albeit, before thou venturest to say ought against it, lean thine head against an oak, and see if thou canst dream a better; and if thou flndest that thou canst, then verily, thou hast my consent to do thine own dreaming.