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

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

Chapter 6: CHAPTER IV. THE COMMISSION REPORTS AND IDAHO IS SELECTED—COLONY NUMBER ONE PREPARES TO ENTER THE LAND OF ITS CHOICE—THE JOURNEY TO HUNTINGTON, OREGON, AND INCIDENTS AT THAT PLACE—ON TO DEER VALLEY.
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About This Book

A first-person narrator in Chicago during 1897 depicts a nation of vast material abundance and widespread destitution, recounting personal financial loss and public despair. The narrative critiques the limits of purely political remedies and argues that lasting reform requires industrial co-operation that can rival competitive profits. The author outlines a strategy to build large-scale co-operative enterprises that accumulate capital and influence, thereby transforming economic relations and eventually affecting governance. Interwoven with social observation, the account follows the narrator’s encounters and efforts to explore practical prospects for establishing a co-operative commonwealth on American soil.

CHAPTER IV.
THE COMMISSION REPORTS AND IDAHO IS SELECTED—COLONY NUMBER ONE PREPARES TO ENTER THE LAND OF ITS CHOICE—THE JOURNEY TO HUNTINGTON, OREGON, AND INCIDENTS AT THAT PLACE—ON TO DEER VALLEY.

The commission to investigate the resources of Idaho performed their labors conscientiously and after an absence of about a month made such a report as determined our people to choose Idaho for the home of the society. This important detail being settled, it was decided to send Colony Number One into the field as speedily as possible. The commission had recommended a valley through which ran a small stream into Snake river as a suitable location. It was a beautiful valley, about twenty-five miles in length and from a quarter of one to five miles wide. The stream flowing from the high mountains near its source had never been known to fail, and poured its torrents with ceaseless power into the flood at its mouth.

The mountains rose only a short distance from its banks for ten miles along its course, but when it emerged from the foot hills the broad and fertile acres spread away on both sides until they reached the top of rich divides. In the mountains along its border grew great forests of yellow pine and gold and silver abounded. Gold had also been mined in placers all along the valley, and was still found in greater or less quantity. The soil was as rich as that of the Nile, and everywhere in the wild state the grasses grew luxuriant and nutritious.

The climate, we learned, was all that could be desired. Surrounded by high mountains and plateaus and nestling in the depths of an immense depression, extreme climatic changes were unknown. The winters were as mild as those of Southern Ohio and the Chinook winds from the warm Pacific currents breathed over this region, now and then, the balmy sympathy of southern climes.

Colony Number One was fully organized with John Thompson as President, Henderson as Treasurer and myself as Secretary. The number of our members was then three hundred. We were not limited by any law or rule as to our membership, but had decided to accept no more applications until we were fully established in our western home. It was arranged that fifty men should go to the selected location and make the necessary preparations for the colony. Thompson, Henderson and myself were included. The other forty-seven were made up of mechanics, farmers and lumbermen.

There were six farmers, six lumber and sawmill men, six carpenters, three masons, three stonecutters, three expert sheep men, three expert cattle men, three merchants, one physician, one blacksmith, one horseshoer, and eleven who, although men of intelligence and able to adapt themselves to all kinds of work, were not trained to any special calling. These fifty paid into the colony treasury one hundred dollars each; fifty others, who were expected to follow us in three months, paid in twenty-five dollars; fifty more paid fifteen dollars; fifty others paid ten dollars, and the remainder five. All these were to continue payments at the same rate monthly until the entrance fee of one hundred dollars was paid, when the member would become entitled to enter the colony as an active colonist. We found ourselves possessed, then, on the day of our departure, of eight thousand five hundred dollars, paid in by members, and the Brotherhood throughout the United States loaned us ten thousand dollars from its accumulated fund, to be repaid in three years.

Our faith and credit, as honest men, were the only security the Brotherhood required. Each man paid his own fare and traveling expenses until we reached Huntington, in Eastern Oregon. From that point until we arrived at our destination all expenses were to be borne in common and defrayed from the common fund.

It was agreed that until the colony was entirely established, and its business had reached a tolerably settled condition, John Thompson should have larger powers than the presidential office conferred upon him. This was done because it was thought the exigencies and uncertainties of the situation demanded his varied experience and the exercise of his quick judgment and large executive force. We regarded him as a sort of military chief, although we were as little like a military band as it would be possible to conceive. He naturally assumed the leadership and we naturally submitted to it. The better to direct our movements he divided us into squads of six, putting the carpenters into a squad numbered one, and directing them to choose a foreman; the masons and stonecutters together numbered two; the sheep and cattle men numbered three; the lumber and sawmill men numbered four; the merchants, blacksmith, horseshoer and one commoner numbered five; the farmers numbered six; six commoners numbered seven; Henderson, myself and four commoners, all of the latter being educated men, one an ex-editor, one an ex-clergyman and one an assayer and chemist and another a surveyor and ex-real estate man, numbered eight. The physician was not included in any squad but was, as we facetiously declared, to constitute a squad by himself.

May 1st, 1897, we took our departure from Chicago for our future home, and proceeding over the Union Pacific arrived at Huntington in due time. Disembarking here, we went into camp on the outskirts of the little town and commenced the purchase of our necessary outfit.

Before leaving Chicago we had purchased and caused to be shipped to us a stock of groceries, hardware, a limited quantity of dry goods, drugs, paints, a number of ploughs, harrows and farm and mining tools and tools for our mechanics, a portable sawmill and eight farm wagons at a cost of nine thousand dollars in all. These were all at Huntington when we arrived. But we were without live stock, horses or seed. Thompson, who had been conceded the title of captain, assigned to each squad its duty. Number One received orders to take charge of one wagon and load the same with such tools as carpenters required, and if any room was left over to report to him. Number Two assumed charge of a second wagon with similar instructions. Number Three did the same with the third wagon, but was also directed to purchase, in the surrounding country, ten milch cows, a herd of one hundred and fifty cattle and one thousand sheep. Number Four was instructed to take one wagon and in addition to provide for the transportation of the portable sawmill. Numbers Five, Six, Seven and Eight were each assigned to a wagon, and Thompson, with the aid of two members of Number Six, who were excellent horsemen, undertook the purchase of the horses.

We sojourned in the neighborhood of Huntington a week. At the end of that time our company was prepared to move. We had purchased a quantity of seed for two hundred dollars, sixteen draft horses at a cost of eight hundred dollars, and forty-two saddle horses at a cost of eight hundred and forty dollars. We had acquired our milch cows for two hundred dollars, one hundred and fifty cattle for two thousand dollars and a flock of sheep numbering one thousand for fifteen hundred dollars, and there remained four thousand dollars in our treasury.

The road from Huntington was quite familiar to “The Captain” and myself. Both of us, but at different periods, had spent considerable time in the vicinity of Huntington and had explored along Snake river and its tributaries for gold. We were able, therefore, to point out a suitable road and as we proceeded upon our journey we encountered no obstacles except when we found it necessary to cross Snake river.

This obstacle only served to delay us a short time, there being at that point a ferry which we employed to take us across. Once in Idaho our people seemed to acquire new life. Everything was full of interest. We made no effort to march in any regular system except that the squad wagons followed each other in numerical order, the bull train, which had been hired to transport the portable sawmill, following somewhat slowly far in the rear. The men in charge of the machinery were residents of Huntington and well acquainted with the road to our destination, which was then known as Deer Valley.

As we moved along we found the country settled, but somewhat sparsely. Here and there a rancher came out to salute us and, learning of our intention to settle in Idaho, bade us a hearty welcome. Sometimes we fell in with cowboys in charge of herds of cattle, and passed through several camps of miners who worked the placers along Snake river. Several of these latter were composed of Chinese and their workings were referred to by the white miners in other camps as “Chinese Diggings.” We observed that everywhere the soil was rich but lacking in moisture except where irrigation was employed. The grasses, although the season was early, were luxuriant and the cattle, which had wintered without shelter, were in remarkably good condition.

Several of the large ranches were among the most beautiful I had ever seen. One of these, comprising about five hundred acres, was located where a swift stream, called Conner creek, flowed into Snake river. This stream had been tapped at a high elevation and the waters diverted, by means of a flume, to the rich alluvial lands below. There a system of small ditches distributed the waters among orchards of peaches, apples, pears, plums, nectarines and apricots and among vineyards of grapes and beds of strawberries. The rancher who had charge of this wonderful little domain, a portly old man, full of information, affable and communicative, assured me that he had traveled the world over but had never beheld a fairer spot than this. “But,” said he, “Idaho is filled with such places.”

I asked him about the markets and he candidly informed me that he had been unable to garner and ship his fruits, lacking funds for that purpose, but that he had sold his vegetables at a good profit in the neighboring mining camps. He also showed us a large quantity of dried fruit which his son had cut and prepared and which there was a market for in the same camps.

“But,” he said, “I have not found the South to be as profitable for farming as this locality, because if their market is more extensive it is also far cheaper. At the outset the advantage is with us. Our grain, hay, hogs and vegetables are all readily disposed of and command a good price among the gold mines.”

Such incidents, and the sublime scenery which everywhere presented itself to our delighted vision, varied the monotony of our journey so that the three days spent on the way after crossing Snake river seemed to pass like a dream. We arrived at Deer Valley without any accident of a serious nature, full of hope, in the best of health and eager to begin the work of laying, as it were, the corner-stone of the Co-operative Commonwealth.