Read Ceremony of the Innocent Online

Authors: Taylor Caldwell

Ceremony of the Innocent (65 page)

It was no laborious feat for Christian to guess that Francis was the archetype of the Socialist, the passionate reformer. It did not take Christian very long in his research to discover that Socialists rose not from the working class which they espoused so furiously, but from the upper middle class, and that the extremely rich exploiters used these men dexterously for their own advantage. Capitalism, Christian saw, had no quarrel with Communism; they practiced symbiosis to the perfect degree. It momentarily surprised Christian that Francis did not understand this himself. Francis truly believed that the extraordinarily rich capitalists who sympathized with Socialism, and “the workingman,” were men of great heart and humanitarianism. Francis reverently extolled the enormous “foundations” set up by these men, and spoke of them with an almost religious awe, his voice fervent and deep with homage. Christian, at this, would raise his reddish eyebrows and laugh inwardly with contemptuous glee and malice.

Christian, rich in his own right, wanted even greater riches, though he had no intention of working for them. He was hedonistic, self-indulgent, and totally greedy. He considered politics, for he was very personable and handsome. But politics did require some effort and progress was often very slow and not immediately lucrative.

Secure in his own self-esteem, he did not need adulation. But he did want wealth and power, and, unlike Francis, he knew why he wanted them. He did not want to impress; quite simply, he wanted to rule and in the ruling become very rich. He had thought of studying law, but this demanded application and tedious years of one’s life. So he reflected for a time and finally arrived at an excellent solution: He would ask Francis to use his influence to get him a high position in one of the “charitable foundations.” In that way he would become famous for his humanitarianism, a companion to the most powerful and ominous men in America, and could employ their political conspiracies to exalt himself. Christian, with unusual concentration and industry, read all he could of Lenin and Trotsky and Marx and Engels, and Fabianism and Populism, and similar subjects; he listened to Francis’ friends with intense interest. Though now only twenty-three he had almost immediately attracted their attention; they had recognized, in him, one of their own.

So when Francis approached the head of one of the largest “charitable foundations” in New York he was received graciously. He did not mention that Christian had barely been graduated from City College, though they knew this only too well. They were not interested in intellectualism, except when they could employ it in such men as Francis Porter. They cared only for their own kind, and Christian was that kind, a completely conscienceless, cruel, exigent, intelligent, and pitiless man, absolutely aware, with no gauzy illusions such as Francis possessed, and no innocent hypocrisies. Christian would be a neophyte among them; later they would advance him. His beguiling appearance, his mental and physical strength, his compactness of character, his lack of self-deception, his forceful drive for power, his complete absence of any principles, his inherent willingness to commit any atrocity desired of him, were weighed and measured and pleasantly approved. They asked only one thing of him—dedication to their ambitions—and they knew immediately that they had an excellent recruit.

So Christian, in the autumn of 1926, became “corresponding secretary” of the David Rogers Foundation, based in New York but with interlocking and international affiliations, all of them secret and lethal, all of them controlled by some of the most astute and ruthless and sophisticated men in the world. The majority were financiers and bankers. But many of them were industrialists of giant fame and fortune, and shipowners and magnates. Despite the attitude of their own government in Washington towards Russia—and in contempt of it—they secretly assisted Communist Russia in commerce, industry, and technology, lending Russia vast sums at a low interest. It was of these men that Lenin wrote, “I, therefore, request all representatives in the Foreign Trade Department, the railroad administration, and all other representatives of the Soviet Government in Russia and abroad to render these gentlemen not only full consideration and complete attention, but every possible assistance, removing all formalities.”

The David Rogers Foundation, ostensibly designed to assist various worthy charities of its own, and those of other organizations, was one of the largest and most influential and most highly regarded in the country. It also conducted a “graduate” school of its own in New York, another in San Francisco, one in Philadelphia, still others in Boston and in Chicago. The school was deftly called the “School of Democratic Studies.” Here young men, and a few young women, were subtly doctrinated in subversion, treason, crypto-Communism, and zeal for personal power and “public service,” not to mention disgust for truly democratic institutions and established government. It set up scholarships for selected applicants, who were sent abroad to “study.” It built libraries for which books were carefully selected. It bought publishing houses, which produced only books written by radical writers. It bought newspapers and magazines. It was very prudent in all these things, moving quietly if relentlessly. It bought politicians, who were then praised for their “humanitarian ideas” before election to a multitude of offices. It had no particular party as its favorite, whether Republican or Democratic. Its partiality was for men who would obey orders.

It had two great enemies, the new President of the United States, Calvin Coolidge, and Alfred Smith. But though these enemies were formidable the David Rogers Foundation, and its several brothers, had no doubt that the gentlemen could be obliterated in one manner or another. The foundations began to plan even this early for the elections of 1928. It was decided, after many national and international conferences, that the currency of America—like that of Germany—must be debased to bring on a terrible depression in the United States, and total chaos, as in Germany. In this they were assisted ably by their creature, the Federal Reserve System, which controlled the banks. The best way to destroy American currency was to eliminate the backing of gold and introduce fiat money. The collapse of the American economy would be arranged. The conspirators increased their activity. Once the economy collapsed they would introduce many “reforms” which would lead to either overt or covert Communism in America. They looked about for a politician who would serve them, in the years to come. They studied Germany, and sought for “the man,” through their German co-conspirators.

The fact that America was devoutly and strenuously anti-Communist did not disturb them overmuch. Through their various organizations they promoted disastrous strikes and other public upheavals. For these they employed men like Francis Porter—“labor lawyers,” fervid and dangerous innocents. They employed agents provocateur, cleverly educated and directed. These agents were not innocents, but were carefully trained: men of education and extraordinary deviousness and intelligence, men of eloquence and stamina, men without nerves or scruples.

The David Rogers Foundation was the creation of the Rogers Brothers Steel Company, originally of Pittsburgh but now the owner of many subsidiary firms. It also owned various oil companies of smaller stature, and fabricators of steel, and aluminum, and some coal mines and electric companies. It had been noted, in the past, that it had been scrutinized by Washington for obvious violations of the Antitrust Act, but had emerged with smug vindication. It had worked well and zealously in behalf of America’s engagement in the Great War, and had been praised by politicians of considerable influence. It had recently bought a radio broadcasting company in New York, and one of its firms was manufacturing crystal sets preparatory to making more wieldy and efficient instruments. It was also quietly buying whiskey futures in the sure conviction that Prohibition would be repealed. Its stock was one of the highest on Wall Street. The original David Rogers had been a confidence man before the War between the States, operating diligently, and profitably, in various northern cities. He had also owned a number of brothels in Pittsburgh. Frugal and canny, he had later bought a bankrupt small steel mill and had entered on real fortune. His portrait, piously improved so that he resembled a bishop, hung in the main office, in Pittsburgh.

In addition to introducing Christian to the David Rogers Foundation, Francis also introduced the young man to the Scardo Society and the Committee for Foreign Studies. They were noncommittal to Francis, whom they did not trust because he was a hysteric and believed his polemics, but they were deeply impressed by Christian, whom they recognized as one of themselves. They graciously permitted Francis to bring the young man to some of their peripheral meetings and discussions, none of which Francis fully understood. But the gentlemen saw, with gratification, that Christian understood immediately, though he was still a young man.

On the occasion of one discussion Francis vehemently complained that though the country was in a state of apparent roaring prosperity the average worker and the farmer were barely subsisting. He confessed his perplexity. Wall Street was doing a tremendous business; stockbrokers’ loans reached $4,422 million. An air of wild euphoria filled the nation; shops teemed with customers; the streets were smoking with cars; the factories clamored day and night Yet the real wages of workers remained extremely low and farms were going into bankruptcy. President Coolidge said, with great complacency, “Well, farmers never made much money at any time.” It was hard for Francis to equate the obvious prosperity with the meanness of the lives of farmers and workers.

But Christian understood at once. The twin brothers, rampant capitalism and Communism, were working for one end only, and Christian knew that end. It amused him that Francis did not know. When Francis confided to him that he had joined the Communist Party, in low and despised esteem in America, in order, as Francis said, that “justice could be brought to the workers,” Christian could hardly keep from laughing aloud. Francis urged the younger man to join also. Christian put on a serious expression. “It would be too dangerous for me,” he said, “though I sympathize fully. I am with the Foundation, you know, and the Foundation is ostensibly anti-Communist.”

“I see your point,” admitted Francis, though he did not in the least. In the meantime stockbrokers’ loans rose so steadily that they exceeded the amount of money in total circulation in America. The few Congressmen and Senators who expressed their alarm were jeered into silence. America had reached the plateau of permanent prosperity. When Alfred E. Smith, Governor of the state of New York, and called the “Happy Warrior,” also expressed his alarm, his name was quietly removed from the consideration of the Committee for Foreign Studies. He had also annoyed the Committee by his authentic social reforms, improvements in education, and attempts to conserve natural resources. “But we are for these also,” Francis said to his friends, who looked amusedly at each other.

But Christian understood that Mr. Smith’s solid reforms were not what the Committee had in mind at all. It was not in their plans to improve society but to destroy it. Christian understood. He was growing more and more contemptuous of Francis, who now seemed unbearably naive to the young man.

Crime, hedonism, irresponsibility, the increasing flouting of laws, were a phenomenon to Francis, a bewilderment. But not to Christian. Once a nation became morally degenerate it became weak and fragmented, unable to resist. The sinister men began to attack Alfred E. Smith, who constantly denounced this sudden reversal of American mores in the Twenties. Though he was quite outspoken in his desire for the Presidency, of which the Democratic Party approved, it was well understood in secret sessions that he had now destroyed his hopes. He would not be amenable to the enemies of his country. An innocuous man must be chosen, a man of obvious rectitude but a man who would follow discreet suggestions from “concerned gentlemen,” without the slightest suspicion of the real motives of his supporters.

Gabrielle, home for the summer holidays, enlisted the support of Kitty Wilder against her mother. “I don’t want to continue in college,” Gabrielle told Kitty. “Here I am, twenty years old, and am treated like an infant. I want to do something exciting with my life.”

“Such as what?” asked Kitty.

Gabrielle grinned. “Such as enjoying myself. I made my debut two years ago, yet I am supposed to be just a schoolgirl, by Mama. Christian has his own apartment, and I want mine. I’ve talked to Mama about this and she was horrified. Why, Christian was two years old when she was my age, and she’d been working since she was thirteen! I am certainly more mature than she ever was, in spite of the fact that she was earning her own living at an early time. Times have changed, Aunt Kitty. We’re very sophisticated now, and understand life and living—as Mama never did. She still doesn’t know. And she’s forty, for heaven’s sake! An old woman.”

Kitty smiled affectionately though she winced inside and was resentful. She was well into her fifties now, and raddled and wizened, though the huge white flare of teeth had not diminished in her haggard face. As always, she was
soignée
and elegant, and the new shies of a flat breast and short skirts became her, as they certainly did not become Ellen with her full bosom. Her dyed hair was cropped and curled; she knew all the latest songs and international scandals and depravities. She could dance like the youngest “flapper.” Her vivacity might be more feverish and more forced than it was in her youth, but it was still strong and lively. She looked at Gabrielle and envied her. Gabrielle was young and vibrant, her figure “boyish,” her animation authentic, her piquant dark face shimmering and gleaming with vitality, her black eyes glowing, her black hair very short and tossed over her pretty head in a mass of springing and glossy curls. She wore a bright-red silk dress with a silver belt low over her narrow hips, and red slippers; the dress was very short and revealed rolled silk stockings, pretty bare knees, and delicate calves. Her lips were full and scarlet.

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