Imperium in Imperio: A Study Of The Negro Race Problem by Sutton E. Griggs


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Page 1

The papers which are herewith submitted to you for your perusal and
consideration, were delivered into my hands by Mr. Berl Trout.

The papers will speak for themselves, but Mr. Trout now being dead I
feel called upon to say a word concerning him.

Mr. Berl Trout was Secretary of State in the Imperium In Imperio, from
the day of its organization until the hour of his sad death. He was,
therefore, thoroughly conversant with all of the details of that great
organization.

He was a warm personal friend of both Bernard and Belton, and learned
from their own lips the stories of their eventful lives.

Mr. Trout was a man noted for his strict veracity and for the absolute
control that his conscience exercised over him.

Though unacquainted with the Imperium In Imperio I was well acquainted
with Berl, as we fondly called him. I will vouch for his truthfulness
anywhere.

Having perfect faith in the truthfulness of his narrative I have not
hesitated to fulfil his dying request by editing his Ms., and giving
it to the public. There are other documents in my possession tending
to confirm the assertions made in his narrative. These documents
were given me by Mr. Trout, so that, in case an attempt is made to
pronounce him a liar, I might defend his name by coming forward with
indisputable proofs of every important statement.

Very respectfully,
Sutton E. Griggs,
March 1, 1899. Berkley, Va.




IMPERIUM IN IMPERIO.




BERL TROUT'S DYING DECLARATION.

I am a traitor. I have violated an oath that was as solemn and
binding as any ever taken by man on earth.

I have trampled under my feet the sacred trust of a loving
people, and have betrayed secrets which were dearer to them
than life itself.

For this offence, regarded the world over as the most
detestable of horrors, I shall be slain.

Those who shall be detailed to escort my foul body to its
grave are required to walk backwards with heads averted.

On to-morrow night, the time of my burial, the clouds should
gather thick about the queenly moon to hide my funeral
procession from her view, for fear that she might refuse to
longer reign over a land capable of producing such a wretch as
I.

In the bottom of some old forsaken well, so reads _our_ law, I
shall be buried, face downward, without a coffin; and my body,
lying thus, will be transfixed with a wooden stave.

Fifty feet from the well into which my body is lowered, a
red flag is to be hoisted and kept floating there for time
unending, to warn all generations of men to come not near the
air polluted by the rotting carcass of a vile traitor.

Such is my fate. I seek not to shun it. I have walked into
odium with every sense alert, fully conscious of every step
taken.

While I acknowledge that I am a traitor, I also pronounce
myself a patriot.

It is true that I have betrayed the immediate plans of the
race to which I belong; but I have done this in the interest
of the whole human family--of which my race is but a part.

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Books | Photos | Paul Mutton | Wed 26th Jan 2022, 19:59