Let's set the scene: It's 1896. The automobile is a newfangled toy, and the idea of a 50-state union is still fresh. Ingersoll Lockwood sits down and imagines the United States just four years into the future. What he conjures is not a world of flying machines, but a political and social earthquake.

The Story

The book opens on election night, 1900, in a New York City buzzing with tension. The expected winner, the candidate of the established order, is shockingly defeated by a dark horse: a charismatic, enigmatic figure from the West known simply as "the President-elect." His victory isn't just a political upset; it's a catalyst for pure pandemonium. The news triggers immediate, violent riots in the streets of New York. Mobs clash, buildings are looted, and the city descends into anarchy. Meanwhile, the financial world collapses overnight, wiping out fortunes. The story follows this rapid unraveling through the eyes of ordinary citizens and panicked elites, all wondering if the republic itself can survive the inauguration of this divisive new leader.

Why You Should Read It

Don't read this for a crystal-ball prediction of 1900's actual technology or world events. Read it for the mood. Lockwood brilliantly channels the deep anxieties of his own Gilded Age—fears of class war, populist rage, and a fragile social order. The power of the story lies in its atmosphere of collective panic, spread by sensational newspapers (the social media of its day). It’s a masterclass in political dread. The "last President" of the title hangs over every page like a question mark: does it mean the last president of the United States as we know it? The book is short, almost a novella, which makes its impact even more concentrated and urgent.

Final Verdict

This is a perfect, mind-bending read for anyone interested in the history of political fiction, American studies, or just a seriously strange artifact. It’s for the reader who loves a good "what if" scenario and finds the psychology of mass panic fascinating. If you enjoyed the speculative tension of books like It Can't Happen Here but want to see where that genre's roots might lie, give this a look. Fair warning: it’s a product of its time in style, but the core feeling—that unsettling sense of a nation on a knife's edge—is hauntingly timeless. A compelling and quick curiosity from the past that holds up a dark, distorted mirror to our own political moments.