He was a real estate developer turned Republican politician with plenty of bravado and a comb-over hairdo.
"I have already acquired a large fortune," Ignatius Donnelly said in 1857, at the ripe age of 26. "What shall I do to occupy myself the rest of my life?"
By his later years, Donnelly was convinced the American people were "demoralized" by a "vast conspiracy" that put the nation on the verge of "political and material ruin."
Comparing Donnelly to Donald Trump pretty much ends there, though. Consider: The value of foreign immigrants was the topic of Donnelly's first oration on the U.S. House floor in 1864 after being elected to Congress following two terms as Minnesota's lieutenant governor. As an advocate for busting up national banks, creating graduated income taxes and eight-hour workdays, he was more aligned with a modern-day Bernie Sanders.
Before his death in 1901 at 69, Donnelly ran for office more than a dozen times and wrote several lengthy books about everything from philosophy to the lost civilization of Atlantis to his assertion that Francis Bacon actually wrote Shakespeare's plays. He's remembered as one of Minnesota's most eccentric leaders and thinkers.
The son of Irish Catholic immigrants, Donnelly was born in Philadelphia in 1831. His writing career began with a published poetry book at 19. Politics quickly overcame his word-smithing and, just after high school, he joined the Democratic Party and a prestigious Philadelphia law office as a clerk. His boss, Benjamin Bristow, would become the nation's treasury secretary and its first solicitor general.
When Donnelly lost his first campaign for the Pennsylvania Legislature, he moved with his wife, Kate, to the Minnesota Territory in 1856 where he joined the Republican Party. On the banks of the Mississippi River, 20 miles downriver from St. Paul and a few miles west of Hastings, Donnelly became a founder of the territorial boom town known as Nininger in Dakota County. The town was named after John Nininger, another Philadelphia businessman and brother-in-law of former territorial governor Alexander Ramsey.
They promised their buddies back east that the town would soon boast the $30,000 Mammoth Hotel, housing lots for a thousand residents, sawmills, a grist mill, saloons, doctors, factories and good schools. Some of those utopian dreams came true, although the boom town would quickly go bust following the financial panic of 1857.