The Co-opolitan: A Story of the Co-operative Commonwealth of Idaho

The National Brotherhood of the Co-operative Commonwealth had prior to the election of 1902, in a delegate convention held in Chicago, passed a resolution approving the Co-opolitan system of co-operation and directing that all colonies and colonists entering Idaho, under its auspices, after January 1st, 1903, enter and become merged in Colony Number One, as Co-opolis was named in the Brotherhood records. It also transferred all its property, including the beet-sugar factory at Laselle, a gold mine at Banford, in the Coeur d’Alene Mountains, and several large tracts of land and small colonies to us, upon the theory that we were better able to superintend the details of state building, while the Brotherhood should simply aid us with funds to extend our good works, furnish us with colonists and distribute our surplus product.

Our Legislation Council, anticipating large accessions to our population on this account, was in constant session and during the entire winter of 1902–3 large plans were under consideration for the utilization of the new labor power. The National Brotherhood had contracted not to send us more than 10,000 new members during the year 1903 and to pay us $1,000,000.00 cash or one hundred dollars for each person sent for our surplus products stored in various barns and storehouses.

It was not considered that these new colonists should all remain in Co-opolis. About two thousand of them were to be retained in certain productive lines in which we were already prepared to set them at work. One of these was a large woolen mill located down the stream toward Snake River, capable of employing one thousand hands. We had a large quantity of wool on hand, and were ready to take all which was offered in exchange for goods at the department store. It was also agreed between the National Brotherhood and our council that they should send us one thousand persons skilled in the manufacture of woolen fabrics. These we agreed to receive on equal terms with all other members. We also arranged for the establishment of a large boot and shoe factory, an extensive fruit and vegetable canning factory, and another one still for the slaughtering, dressing, preparing and packing of pork, beef and other meats. The slaughter houses were designed to be situated about six miles from Co-opolis over the divide on the Seven Devils branch of the Oregon Short Line. These skilled artisans numbered in all about three thousand. The rest, consisting of six thousand adults, were to enter the Industrial Army as common workers.

We estimated that we could employ this new industrial army in opening up another large valley in the same county fifteen miles south of Co-opolis. That valley was in nearly all respects similar to Deer Valley, except that it was larger and the divides and tables were covered with a thick growth of timber. We considered that it was proper to retain about half of the seven thousand new men to work in and about Co-opolis and to send an equal number of our older members to the new fields. The plan was, first of all, to provide irrigation; second, to break thirty thousand acres of land and seed it to corn; third, to construct buildings sufficiently commodious to house the companies of the Industrial Army which might be necessary to make the valley productive and protect its structures and products from destruction. It was then intended to be a sort of an industrial outpost for Co-opolis, and was placed in charge of the Agricultural department.

When the new colonists began to arrive in large numbers the scene presented in the main hall of the building was interesting. The department chiefs took turns presiding at the hearing of applications for membership. I remember very well my own experience one day the latter part of January. I had obtained a temporary leave of absence from the senate in order to assume the duties as chief of my department. There were eight hundred newcomers, men and women. Each was sworn to answer truly all questions put touching his or her age, education, trade or calling, nationality, former place of residence, family and career. His application, together with certificates of medical examiners, was examined and if approved by the National Brotherhood the following contract was handed him for his signature: “It is hereby agreed by and between Peter Jones, party of the first part, and Colony Number One of the Co-operative Commonwealth known as the Co-opolitan Association, party of the second part, that in consideration of the promises, agreements and undertakings hereinafter set forth, said first party enters the employ of said second party as a laborer for the term of three years. That he agrees to do and perform any and all work which said second party shall require of him in any part of the state of Idaho to the best of his ability. That he agrees to conform to all the rules, regulations and laws which are now in force or shall become in force in or in connection with said colony, provided the same do not impair the obligation hereof. Said second party agrees to pay said first party for said service in the products of labor on hand or obtainable by said second party, an amount equal to forty per cent of the yearly product of the labor of said colony divided by the total number of members of said colony above the age of twenty years, less fines and forfeitures, the same to be paid in such amounts, and at such times, within each year, as shall be provided by the Legislative Council of said second party.”

The examination to which applicants were subjected is well illustrated by the record of one who has since become one of the famous Industrial chiefs of the state.

“What is your name, age, occupation and place of residence?” asked I of a medium-sized man with a strong, square face, and a large forehead, who arose and held up his right hand to take the oath.

“Name, Jarvis Richardson. Age, thirty years. Occupation, printer. Former residence, St. Paul, Minnesota.”

“Name of former employer and when last employed.”

“Pioneer Press Publishing Company. Was laid off three years ago.”

“Reason for discharge?”

“Improved typesetting machines.”

“Do you understand and favor co-operation, or are you desirous of entering the Brotherhood for temporary protection?”

“I believe I understand the principle and purpose of co-operation. Having been excluded from usefulness in my own trade by the introduction of labor-saving devices, I realize that an injustice has been done me. I should have had the benefit of the labor-saving device, but instead of that I am simply supplanted by an automaton. The machine which excluded me from my place and has kept me comparatively idle ever since does the work which it formerly took five men to do. If the same results were accomplished, as it ultimately will be, in all departments four-fifths of the labor of human beings would be thrown aside and four-fifths of the laborers would starve. This would curtail the consumption of products of such machinery, and a portion of those who operate them would then be discharged on the plea of hard times, limited demand and overproduction.

“The industrial system now in operation throughout the Christian world was devised for an ignorant and barbarous people. Invention, learning, industry and progress are showing its entire inefficiency. Learning must be limited to a few if that system is to live. Under it, if industry produces enough for all, stagnation results, because that system makes no provision for wise and equitable distribution. Progress is impossible because it strains society to a point of revolution and destruction follows. The co-operative system, on the contrary, deems labor-saving machinery a blessing, and its adoption simply increases production and is a relief and benefit to the laborer. It does not diminish his share of the product, but reduces his hours of labor. You cannot have too much education and learning in the co-operative system because all are educated, and yet each is required to submit to his share of labor and drudging. This tends to destroy false pride, and prevent vanity. Moreover, men come to realize their true relation to one another.

“Industry can never cause overproduction in the co-operative system. If too much is produced for the members to consume they do not therefore find it necessary to starve a portion of their number. Such a condition is hurtful to none. The co-operative system demands progress. Every step forward brings a reward and does not suggest a danger. Every advance is a blessing not to a few, but to all. A system which is large enough, just enough and expansive enough to admit of the unfoldment of all the powers and virtues of the race cannot be less than Christian.”

The manner of the applicant as he expressed himself was that of a polished and educated gentleman. It was not customary for us to encourage lengthy speeches on the part of applicants, during the year 1903 nor the years following, but once in a while a man of commanding will and intellect would challenge our attention and we would listen to him as I did to Mr. Richardson. He was a sufferer from one cause, and understood the cause and its only cure far better than a philosopher who only observes and could not feel the condition it imposed on him.

“It is claimed that the individual is weakened and made dependent by our system, Mr. Richardson,” said I. “The claim is also made that the man who escapes the perils of the industrial system comes out with a stronger character and a more independent manhood than if such perils had not been encountered. Have you a different opinion?”

“I do not know,” was the reply, “how great a manhood your system will develop. It teaches, however, the lesson of brotherhood, and gives me protection for my wife and babies by furnishing me an opportunity to be industrious. The competitive system might not be objectionable if it would do the same. But it does not permit fair competition. It demands that a man be industrious, but gives him no chance to work. It permits a few to monopolize land, water, power, money and all the sources, means and machinery of production, and then asks the disinherited and landless ones to compete when competition is impossible.

“The system called competitive is not competitive. It is a system whereby a favored few are permitted to rob the many. As for the perils of that system developing character, I admit they do. The most remarkable character and those most admired in it are the modern Shylocks. If that sort of character is desirable, then the system is a success, but I do not covet its benefits. It seems to me the perils of savagery are much more effective to bring out strong traits of character and build up a manhood more courageous, self-reliant, and even heroic, certainly not more brutal, than the trading, cozening, cheating, gambling, sordid methods which make up this so-called ‘Competitive System.’”

It was not possible for me in the press of business to continue the conversation further that day. Indeed, the arguments offered by the applicant were not new to me, and it was only because of the strong individuality of the man that I stopped to converse with him at all. It was, however, a part of my business to investigate the qualifications of applicants and when they had been accepted to enroll them in the proper department. Each department had its enrolling clerk present, who received the signature of the new member in the department to which he was assigned. A few formal questions more were put to Mr. Richardson and I assigned him to the Messenger and Publishing department, where a vacancy had occurred within a week by the death of a trusted member.

He of course entered as a mere printer, being compelled to earn promotion by the efficiency of his work.

The examination and acceptance of applicants went on with great rapidity after this, and no incident occurred worthy of note until after the noon lunch. A woman about thirty-six years old presented her application. After the usual formal questions I asked:

“Are you married?”

“I am a widow,” she answered; “my husband was killed in a railroad collision five years ago.”

“Have you children?”

“I have seven—three boys and four girls.”

“Have you them with you?”

“All are here. Mr. Thompson advised me to come and make this application, so I have been saving up all my money and I am here.”

“You say you live in Boise? You are not recommended by the Brotherhood. Have you any recommendations?”

“I have one from Mr. Thompson.” Here she handed me a note from our President, now Governor of the state, and upon reading it I found that she was an intelligent and deserving woman who was anxious to educate her children. She had saved, through several years’ hard work at the washtub and in various kinds of domestic work, the fee necessary to enter the colony, and, although it was her all, she was ready to pay it for such a purpose.

“What shall I do for a home?” she asked.

“We have excellent houses, in one of which you shall live,” I replied.

“Can I send my children to school?” she continued.

“You are required to do so. Education is compulsory. Your children will be turned over to the Department of Education.”

“Am I to be separated from them?”

“You and they will live together in the same house.”

“But I am a member of the Episcopal church. I desire my children brought up in that church.”

“The religious education of your children is your own care. Send them to what church you will. Episcopal, Methodist, Baptist, Catholic, Congregationalist and other denominations are represented here.”

“Would it be wrong for me to ask how much my wages are to be?”

“You will receive checks or orders the first year entitling you to one-third as much as a skilled first-year member. The second year you will receive as much as any other member of the Industrial Army, skilled or unskilled, officer or private. Last year each member received $1,200.00 in orders or checks entitling him to the use of public conveyances, railroads, house, water, gas, light, heat and other public utility, to goods, wares and merchandise, meals at restaurant or hotel, to admission to entertainments, use of public ovens, and, in short, whatever you need. If your children are infants the Department of Education has trained nurses to care for them. If a mother is nursing her babe we give her a furlough until the period of nursing ceases, but her pay continues. We encourage the mother to be with her children as much as possible, as we believe a mother’s love is one of the influences, under proper conditions, which inspire purity and develop manhood and womanhood in the child.”

“But if I must work I cannot care for my children and get them ready for school in the morning.”

“Women who have children are placed, as far as possible, in companies which do their work during what are called school hours. You will be assigned to the Domestic department and its officers will place you where you belong. You will go to your work at 9 o’clock and continue until 12. You will then take an hour for your own lunch and returning to work continue until 5.”

I felt great satisfaction at being able to give this poor woman information which restored almost immediately the light of hope to her careworn face. She only asked one more question. She wanted to know what would become of her children in case she should die, and when I told her that children who once entered our Department of Education were always protected, clothed and supported, without the slightest dishonor, by the Association and afterward entered our Industrial Army on equal terms with all others, she seemed so happy that the bystanders wept and I felt my own eyes grow moist.

Several days after this, being anxious to learn the fate of this woman, whose name was recorded as Elizabeth Maxon, I entered, inquired at the office of the Domestic department, where she was enrolled, and learned that she had been assigned by her department chief to laundry work and that her place of residence was number 800 Pine Street. I took occasion to call there. Upon my ringing the electric bell the door was opened by a bright-faced little girl of about fifteen summers.

“Is your mother at home?” I asked.

“Yes,” was the reply. “Will you come in?”

She ushered me through a small carpeted hallway, into a neatly furnished parlor, the floor of which was also carpeted, and the furniture in which appeared to be quite new. Having been politely offered a chair, I sat down, and being informed that “mamma” would be in directly I waited. A minute later Mrs. Maxon appeared.

“Mrs. Maxon,” I said, arising, “you will doubtless look upon my visit as an intrusion, but I felt so deep an interest in your welfare, after your application and examination for membership, that I had to hunt you up. Perhaps you will remember me as the man who presided at that time.

“Indeed!” she exclaimed. “Mr. Braden, certainly this is an honor and not an intrusion. You were so kind to me on that occasion that I shall never forget you. Will you be seated, sir?”

I sat down again. Mrs. Maxon also seated herself.

“I would be glad to learn how you fared,” I resumed. “Will you permit me to ask you a few questions?”

“Yes, indeed!” was the quick answer. “I will answer any question. The people are so good to me here that I feel that you are all brothers and sisters. And see,” (she waved her hand around her), “I have never lived in such a pleasant house before. It is heated by steam which comes from pipes laid under the streets and we have water, gas and electricity.”

“Do you like your work?”

“It is very pleasant. Most of the work at the laundry is done by machinery and the machinery does five times as much work as the force we have there could do by hand. All the hard work is done by machinery. Then I have only to work seven hours a day, too.”

“How did you get so well settled?”

“The next day after the examination I was told to go to the office of the Domestic department on Commonwealth Avenue. I went. The gentleman in charge told me that when an active member paid a membership fee of $100.00 the company gave a labor check to her in return representing $100.00 worth of goods. He gave me the amount in such check and then directed a gentleman to take me and my children to number 800 Pine Street, where we should live. He hailed a passing motor car and we got on that and rode to this house, my children with me. The gentleman did not pay my fare, but I paid it.

“I was surprised that it only amounted to what would be two cents of my hundred dollars. I was quite surprised also to find that we were to have such a nice house. But there was no furniture in it then. I left my children with our neighbor, and went up to the department house and ordered these carpets, furniture and other things. They let me have them on time, with the understanding that they were to keep the title until they were paid for. I got a few groceries from the store and some meat and brought them home myself. The furniture came about 2 o’clock that afternoon and before supper time we were almost settled. A bell rang out there in the dining room and I found a telephone there. I answered it and found that the foreman of the company which I was told to enter had some directions. He said I was to go over to the ward office of the Department of Education, about two blocks from here, and report with my children at 9 o’clock next morning and then to report to him at 9:30 o’clock for duty. So I did, and all my little ones were taken and sent to school.”

“Are you then comfortable?”

“I am very, very happy. I never dreamed that such good would come to me after my husband died. But God has directed me here and I am very, very happy.”

The conversation continued a few minutes longer. All her little children, with bright and shining faces, came in to see me, and I was overflowing with sympathetic enthusiasm myself before I was able to tear myself away. And I thought to myself as I returned to my home that the joy our system brought to these comparatively humble people was the best indication that we were now, in truth, upon the threshold of a higher civilization; a civilization that uses all power, both mechanical and human, to lift up all humanity; a civilization which does not content itself by simply emblazoning the golden rule upon painted banners and church walls, but makes it the measure of every public act toward all men, women and children alike.