The New World
:
The Doomsman
Again we make acknowledgment to the "Laudable" Vigilas and quote at
large from the luminous pages of The Later Cosmos. Now the reader,
scenting more learned discourse, may meditate upon skipping this
chapter; nay, will probably do so. Yet, to my thinking, he will act more
wisely in buckling down to it, seeing that it contains matter of moment
for the perfect understanding of the narrative proper. The studying of
guide-
osts is not an amusing occupation, but it is infinitely less
tedious than to wander around all day in a fog and perhaps miss one's
destination altogether.
* * * * *
"It is, indeed, a small world as we know it to-day. Our philosophers,
reconstructing, as best they may, the science of the ancients from the
treatises, few and sadly incomplete, that have come down to us, affirm
that the earth is an orb and that another continent (perhaps more than
one) lies beyond the rim of the eastern horizon. It may be so, but the
issue is not of practical importance, seeing that there are none who
care to make adventure of the great salty gulf that lies between. And so
the sea keeps its mysteries.
"On the other hand, we count it inadvisable to wander far afield. To
the north, to the west, and to the south stretches the unbroken forest,
and in a few hours a man's legs may easily carry him out of hailing of
the voice of his kind. The waterways form the only regular channels for
social and commercial intercourse, and the busybody and gad-about are
not regarded with favor by honest people.
"It appears highly probable that the human race was virtually
annihilated over the general area of the ancient United States of
America; it persisted only in a few particularly favored localities and
through accidental circumstances of which we know nothing definite. In
our own day, the northern, central, and southern group of colonies
maintain a system of infrequent intercommunication, and beyond that
certain knowledge does not extend. It is possible that mankind may exist
in a degraded state, in many inaccessible corners of this vast continent
of ours, but this is only a possibility, concerning which the theories
of the learned are no more susceptible of proof than are the idle
speculations of the vulgar.
"For convenience, we will accept the popular classification of the human
race as it exists to-day--the Painted Men, the House People, and the
Doomsmen. To take them up in that order.
"The Painted Men, otherwise the Wood Folk, are the descendants of the
Indians of old, but the strain is largely mingled with that of the negro
race, and, with hardly an exception, it is the weaker qualities both of
body and of mind that have been emphasized in the hybrid. From their
Indian forebears they have preserved the custom of painting their face
with crude and hideous pigments upon all occasions of ceremony; hence
their popular designation--the 'Painted Men.'
"The House People are conveniently subdivided into two classes--the
townsmen, or House People proper, and the stockade dwellers,
colloquially, the Stockaders.
"The House People of the walled towns represent as nearly as may be the
middle classes of the ancient civilization. Originally, the family was
the political and social unit, just as with the patriarchs of Holy Writ,
but within the last generation the community idea has been growing
rapidly, and there are perhaps a score of towns and villages scattered
along the banks of the Greater and Lesser rivers.
"The Stockaders, reversing the procedure of their kinsmen of the towns,
live apart from one another, each proprietor depending wholly upon his
own resources for sustenance and defence. Some of the larger estates
contain several hundred acres enclosed by a strong timber stockade and
otherwise defended against the assaults of enemies. The head of the
family, or clan, as it might more properly be termed, is lord paramount
within his own borders, even possessing the rights of life and death.
But this last authority is rarely called in exercise, since these folk
of the free country-side are naturally wholesome, honest,
generous-hearted men, content to lead a simple life and coveting no
man's honor or goods. On the other hand, it must be admitted that the
stockade dweller is both provincial of habit and prejudiced of mind. He
looks down upon the townsman as a huckster in private and a shuffler in
public life, and this feeling of contemptuous enmity is fully returned
by the cit, who regards the free proprietor in the light of a boor and a
bully. Moreover, it rankles in the Houseman's breast that no Stockader
pays a farthing of head-money to the treasure-chest of the Doomsmen. Now
and then some well-to-do proprietor may suffer loss from cattle thieving
and rick burning, but as often as not the marauders pay full price for
all they get. And this leads us to a consideration of the Doomsman
himself, that foul excrescence upon our modern body politic.
Fortunately, history here speaks clearly, and we have only to listen to
her voice.
"It was a natural procedure, upon the coming of the Terror, to throw
open the doors of the jails and other punitive institutions, thereby
giving the wretched inmates an equal chance for life. The great mass of
these degraded beings gravitated inevitably towards the cities, seeking
plunder and opportunities for bestial dissipation that even the dread
presence of the Terror could not restrain. Without hope and without
fear, they rushed to the vulture's feast; here was wine and gold and
soft raiment; let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we die.
"It was the ancient city of New York that received the vast bulk of this
army of human rats; naturally so, since it was the supreme
treasure-house of the western world. In such overwhelming numbers did
these vermin come that the civil and military administrations were
literally swarmed over. Between two days the outlaws were in complete
possession, and the small remnant of the decent residents retired
precipitately, preferring to meet death under the open sky rather than
in company with their new masters.
"The years went on, but the changes that they brought were few. The
descendants of the ancient criminals remained in the ruined city, at
first of necessity, afterwards by choice, finding there fuel and shelter
in abundance besides large stores of non-perishable food supplies. When,
in the next generation, these provisions became exhausted it was
inevitable that the refugees should fix covetous eyes upon the
threshing-floors and herd-stalls of their rural neighbors. But although
the outlaws had continued to gain in numbers, their natural increase was
not proportionate to the growing power of their adversaries. Little by
little the Doomsmen began to lose ground; already they had been defeated
several times in pitched battle, and it looked as though the
hornet's-nest would soon be smoked out.
"It was at this critical juncture that the infamous personality of Dom
Gillian made itself of commanding account, and thenceforth the balance
began to incline the other way. It was but the weight of one man's hand
in the scale-pan, yet there are still many of us who remember how heavy
that hand could be.
"Infamous is the adjective deliberately applied, and with reason.
Dominus Gillian, to give him his full name, was a renegade, the unworthy
son of a distinguished Stockader family. Admittedly a man of fine
intellect and force, it is equally unquestionable that he was entirely
devoid of moral sense. He possessed a genius for organization, and he
succeeded in consolidating the unruly Doomsmen into a compact and
disciplined body of outlaws. Murder and rapine were quickly reduced to
exact sciences, and, unfortunately, the House People could not be made
to see the necessity of united action; the townsman and the stockade
dweller preferred to contend with each other rather than against the
common enemy. As a consequence, the freebooters had a clear road before
them, and so was established that intolerable tyranny under which the
land still groans. All this occurred upward of sixty years ago.
"It only remains to add that Dominus, or, more colloquially, Dom
Gillian, still lives, albeit he must be verging upon ninety years of
age. For many years he has not been seen in the field, and it is even
asserted that he no longer takes active part in the councils of the
Doomsmen. Be that as it may, his will still remains dominant to animate
and direct the malign powers created by his wicked genius. And the evil
that men do, doth it not live after them?
"Such is the world, or, rather, one infinitesimal portion of the cosmos,
in the year 2015, according to the ancient calendar, or 90 since the
Terror."