In fact there is little room for poetry or for the imagination in the life of Aurora. What is not directly useful is sternly left out. There are no carpets, even in Dr. Keil's house; no sofas or easy chairs, but hard wooden settles; an immense kitchen, in which women were laboring, with short gowns tucked up; a big common room, where apparently the Doctor lives with the dozen unmarried old men who form part of his household; a wide hall full of provision safes, flour-bins, barrels, etc.; but no books, except a Bible and hymn-book, and a few medical works; no pictures—nothing to please the taste; no pretty outlook, for the house lies somewhat low down. Such was the house of the founder and president of the community; and the other houses were neither better nor much worse. There is evidently plenty of scrubbing in-doors, plenty of plain cooking, plenty of every thing that is absolutely necessary to support life—and nothing superfluous.
When I remarked upon this to some of the men, and urged them to lay out the village in a somewhat picturesque style, to which the ground would readily lend itself, and explained that a cottage might be plain and yet not ugly, the reply invariably came: "We have all that is necessary now; by and by, if we are able and want them, we may have luxuries." "For the present," said one, "we have duties to do: we must support our widows, our orphans, our old people who can no longer produce. No man is allowed to want here amongst us; we all work for the helpless." It was a droll illustration of their devotion to the useful, to find in the borders of the garden, where flowers had been planted, these flowers alternating with lettuce, radishes, and other small vegetables.
Dr. Keil is a short, burly man, with blue eyes, whitish hair, and white beard. I took him to be a Swiss from his appearance, but his language—he spoke German with me—showed him to be a Prussian. He seemed excitable and somewhat suspicious; gave no tokens whatever of having studied any book but the Bible, and that only as it helped him to enforce his own philosophy. He was very quick to turn every thought toward the one subject of community life; took his illustrations mostly from the New Testament; and evidently laid much stress on the parental character of God. As he discussed, his eyes lighted up with a somewhat fierce fire; and I thought I could perceive a fanatic, certainly a person of a very determined, imperious will, united to a narrow creed.
As to that creed: He said it was desirable and needful so to arrange our lives as to bring them into harmony with natural laws and with God's laws; that we must all trust in Him for strength and wisdom; that we all needed his protection—and as he thus spoke we turned suddenly into a little enclosure where I saw an uncommon sight, five graves close together, as sometimes children's are made; but these were evidently the graves of grown persons. "Here," he said, "lie my children—all I had, five; they all died after they were men and women, between the ages of eighteen and twenty-one. One after the other I laid them here. It was hard to bear; but now I can thank God for that too. He gave them, and I thanked him; he took them, and now I can thank him too." Then, after a minute's silence, he turned upon me with somber eyes and said: "To bear all that comes upon us in silence, in quiet, without noise, or outcry, or excitement, or useless repining—that is to be a man, and that we can do only with God's help."
As we walked along through the vegetable garden and vineyard, I saw some elderly women hoeing the vines and clearing the ground of weeds. I must not forget to say that the culture of their orchards, vineyards, and gardens is thorough and admirable. Dr. Keil said, nodding to the women, "They like this work; it is their choice to spend the afternoon thus. If I should tell them to go and put on fine clothes and lounge around, they would be very much aggrieved."
The members are all Germans or Pennsylvanians. They are of several
Protestant sects; and there is even one Jew, but no Roman Catholics.
The band played on Sunday evening for an hour or more, but did not attract many people. Boys were playing ball in the street at the same time. Some bought tobacco; which led me to ask again about the use of money. The question was not in any case satisfactorily answered; but I have reason to believe that a little selfish earning of private spending money is winked at. For instance, the man whose daughter's wedding I attended kept a few hives of bees; and in answer to a question I was told he did not turn their honey into the general treasury; what he did not consume he was allowed to sell. "In such ways we get a little finery for our daughters," said one. Again, when apples are very abundant, and a sufficient supply has been dried for market, the remainder of the crop is divided among the householders, with the understanding that they may eat or sell them as they prefer.
There is an air of untidiness about the streets of the settlement which is unpleasing. There is a piece of water, which might easily be made very pretty, but it is allowed to turn into a quagmire. But few of the door-yards are neatly kept. The village seems to have been laid out at haphazard. Moreover, their stock is of poor breeds; the pigs especially being wretched razor-backed creatures.
As to the people—there can be no doubt that they are happy and contented. In a country where labor is scarce and highly paid, and where the rewards of patient industry in any calling are sure and large, it is not to be supposed that such a society as Aurora would have held together nineteen years if its members were not in every way satisfied with their plan of life, and with the results they have attained under it.
What puzzled me was to find a considerable number of people in the United States satisfied with so little. What they have secured is neighbors, sufficient food probably of a better kind than is enjoyed by the ordinary Oregon farmer, and a distinct and certain provision for their old age, or for helplessness. The last seemed, in all their minds, a source of great comfort. Pecuniarily their success has not been brilliant, for if the property were sold out and the money divided, the eighty or ninety families would not receive more than three thousand or thirty-five hundred dollars each; and a farmer in Oregon must have been a very unfortunate man, who, coming here nineteen years ago with nothing, should not be worth more than this sum now, if he had labored as steadily and industriously, and lived as economically as the Aurora people have.
It is probable, however, that in the minds of most of them, the value of united action, the value to each of the example of the others, and the security against absolute poverty and helplessness in the first years of hard struggle, as well as the comfort of social ties, has counted for a great deal.
Nor ought I to forget the moral advantages, which appear to me immense and not to be underrated. Since the foundation of the colony, it has not had a criminal among its numbers; it has sent no man to jail; it has not had a lawsuit, neither among the members nor with outside people; it has not an insane person, nor one blind or deaf and dumb; nor has there been any case of deformity. It has no poor; and the support of its own helpless persons is a part of its plan.
This means that the Aurora community has not once in nineteen years of its existence used the courts, the jails, or the asylums of the state; that it has contributed nothing to the criminal or the pauper parts of the population.
This result in a newly settled state, and among a rude society, will appear not less remarkable when I add that the community has no library; that its members, so far as I could see, lack even the most common and moderate literary culture, aspiring to nothing further than the ability to read, write, and cipher; that from the president down it is absolutely without intellectual life. Moreover, it has very few amusements. Dancing is very little practiced; there is so little social life that there is not even a hall for public meetings in the village; apple-parings and occasional picnics in the summer, the playing of a band, a sermon twice a month, and visiting among the families, are the chief, indeed the only excitements in their monotonous lives. With all this there is singularly little merely animal enjoyment among them: they do not drink liquor; the majority, I was told, do not even smoke tobacco; there is no gayety among the people. Doubtless the winter, which brings them all together in the village, leads to some amusements; but I could hear of nothing set, or looked forward to, or elaborately planned. "The women talk, more or less," said one man to me, when I asked if there were never disagreements and family jars; "but we have learned to bear that, and it makes no trouble."
It seemed to me that I saw in the faces and forms of the people the results of this too monotonous existence. The young women are mostly pale, flat-chested, and somewhat thin. The young men look good-natured, but aimless. The older women and men are slow in their movements, placid, very quiet, and apparently satisfied with their lives.
I suppose the lack of smart dress and finery among the young people on Sunday, and at the wedding, gave a somewhat monotonous and dreary impression of the assemblage. This was probably strengthened in my mind by the fact that the somewhat shabby appearance of the people was only of a piece with the shabby and neglected look of their village, so that the whole conveyed an impression of carelessness and decay. Nineteen years of steady labor ought to have brought them, I could not but think, a little further: ought to have given them tastefully ornamented grounds, pretty houses, a public bath, a library and assembly-room, and neat Sunday clothing. It appeared to me that the stern repression of the whole intellectual side of life by their leader had borne this evil fruit. But it may be that the people themselves were to blame: they are Germans of a low class, and "Pennsylvania Dutch"—people, too often, who do not aim high. Then, too, it must be admitted that farm-life in Oregon is not, in general, above the plane of Aurora. Dutchtown is an Oregonian paradise; and the Aurora people are commonly said to "have every thing very nice about them."
Moreover, I could see that such a community must, unless it has for its head a person of strong intellectual life, advance more slowly and with greater difficulty than its members might, if they were living in the great world and thrown upon their individual resources.
Economically, I think there is no doubt that in the clearing up of their land, and the establishment of orchards and other productive industries, these Communists had a decided and important advantage over farmers undertaking similar enterprises with the help of laborers to whom they must have paid wages. For, though the wages of a day-laborer nowhere yield much more than his support and that of his family, they yield this in an uneconomical manner, a part of the sum earned being dropped on the way to middlemen, and a part going for whisky, sprees, blue Mondays, and illness arising out of bad situation, improper food, etc. The Aurora colonists labored without money wages; they could economize to the last possible degree in order to tide over a difficult place; they at all times measured their outlay by their means on hand; and I do not doubt that they made Aurora, with its orchards and other valuable improvements, for half what it would have cost by individual effort.
Nor can it be safely asserted that there is no higher future for Aurora. Dr. Keil cannot carry them further—but he is sixty-four years old; if, when he dies, the presidency should fall into the hands of a person who, with tact enough to keep the people together, should have also intellectual culture enough to desire to lift them up to a higher plane of living, I can see nothing to prevent his success. The difficulty is that Dr. Keil's system produces no such man. Moses was brought up at Pharaoh's court, and not among the Israelites whom he liberated, and who made his whole life miserable for him.
II.—BETHEL.
Bethel is, of course, the older community; I describe it here after Aurora, because my visit to it was made after I had seen the Oregon community, and also because here is shown to what Aurora tends. The two societies are still one, having their efforts in common; and I was told that if the people at Bethel could sell their property, they would all remove to Oregon.
The Bethel Community now owns about four thousand acres of good land, exclusive of a tract of thirteen hundred acres at Nineveh, in the neighboring county of Adair, where six families of the community live, who are engaged chiefly in farming, having, however, also an old saw-mill and a tannery, and a shoemaker's and a blacksmith's shop. These families were removed thither twenty-five years ago, because it was thought the land there had a valuable water-power.
Bethel has now above two hundred members, and about twenty-five families. There are fifty children in the school, I was told.
They have a saw-mill and grist-mill, a tannery, a few looms, a general store, and a drug-store, and shops for carpenters, blacksmiths, coopers, tinners, tailors, shoemakers, and hatters, all on a small scale, but sufficient to supply not only themselves but the neighboring farmers. They had formerly a distillery, but that and a woolen factory were burned down a few years ago. They mean to rebuild the last.
All the people are Germans, and I found here many relatives of persons I had met at Aurora.
[Illustration: THE BETHEL COMMUNE, MISSOURI.]
The town has much the same characteristic features as Aurora, except that it has not the exceptionally large and factory-like dwellings. It has one main street, poorly kept, and in parts even without a sidewalk; cattle and pigs were straying about it, too, and altogether it did not look very prosperous. But the brick dwellings which lined the street were substantially built, and the saw and grist mill which lies at the lower end is a well-constructed building of brick. Half-way up the main street was a drug-store, large enough I should have said to accommodate with purges and cathartics a town of twenty-five hundred inhabitants; and on a cross-street was another. Besides the chief store, I was surprised to see two other smaller shops; and still more surprised to be told that they belonged to and were kept by persons who had left the community, but who remained here in its midst. Of these I shall have something to say by and by.
At the head of the street stands the tavern or hotel, kept in the German or Pennsylvania Dutch way—with a bed in the large common room, and meals served in the kitchen. The German cooking was substantial and good. To the right of the hotel, at some distance, stands the church, placed in the middle of a young grove of trees planted much too thickly ever to prosper. The church has a floor of large red tiles; a narrow pulpit at one end; a place railed off at the other end, where the band plays on high festivals, and two doors for the entrance of the sexes, who sit on separate sides of the house. From the tower I had a view of the greater part of the community's territory, which lies finely, and is evidently a well-selected and valuable tract of land.
As in Aurora, they have preaching here every other Sunday, and no week-day meetings or assemblages of any kind. They told me, however, that they have a Sunday-school for the children, where they are instructed in the Bible.
The preacher and head of this society is a Mr. Giese, appointed by Dr. Keil; he keeps also the drug-store, where I was sorry to see liquor sold to laboring men and others, but in a very quiet way.
The Bethel Society has six trustees, chosen by the members, but holding office during good behavior. As in Aurora, no business report is made to the society. Giese is cashier and book-keeper, and the trustees examine his accounts once a year.
The real estate in Bethel is held upon a very extraordinary tenure. It appears that—the settlement having begun in 1844—by 1847 there were in the society some dissatisfied persons, who clamored for a partition of the property. Dr. Keil thereupon determined to divide it, and to each member or householder a certain part was made over as his own. Out of the gains of the community in the three years was reserved sufficient to support the aged and infirm, and I believe the mills were also kept as part of the common stock. Thereupon some dissatisfied persons sold their shares and went off. The remainder lived on in common, and without changing their relations. To each person a deed was given of his share; but those who remained in the society were told—so the matter was explained to me by two of the trustees—not to put their deeds on record; and later a deed of the whole property of the community, including the individual holdings, was made out in the name of the president, Mr. Giese. I did not see this document, but presume, of course, that it gave him a title only in trust for all.
"Why did you partition the property?" I asked, curiously; and was answered, "In order to let every one be absolutely free, and to see who were inclined to a selfish life, and who for the community or unselfish life." Moreover, I was assured that any one who wished might at any time put his deed on record, and its validity would be acknowledged.
Now among the persons who left the society, six families were allowed to retain their property, and of these several at this day live in the midst of the village. One is a mechanic, who pursues his trade for wages; and two others keep small shops. This appeared to me a really extraordinary instance of liberality or carelessness; but no one of the community seemed to think it strange. There are also one or two farmers, not members; with one of these, a young man, I rode into Shelbina. He told me that he had grown up in the society; that he had gone into the army, where he served during the war; and when he returned he had got tired of community life. He had also got some business notions into his head, and thought the community affairs were too loosely managed. The members, he thought, had not sufficient knowledge of business; in which I agreed with him. But his house stood at the end of the village, and the relations between him and his former associates were at least so far amicable that one of the trustees took me to him to engage my passage to the railroad station.
The society was strongest before Dr. Keil went to Oregon; he drew away, between 1854 and 1863, about four hundred of the six hundred and fifty persons who were gathered in Bethel in 1855; and among these were, it seems, a large number of young men who did not want to serve in the war, the society being non-resistants, and slipped off to Oregon to avoid the draft. There are no accessions from outside, or at any rate so few as to count for nothing. But, on the other hand, they assured me that they keep most of their young people.
When one of the younger generation—for whom no property has been set apart—wishes to leave, a sum of money is given. While I was there a young girl was about to sever her connection with the society, and she received, besides her clothing, twenty-five dollars in money. If she had been older she would have received more, on the ground that she would have earned more by her labor, beyond the cost to the society of her care from childhood.
Some years ago they were subjected to a troublesome lawsuit, brought by a seceding member to recover both wages and the property of his parents. Thereupon, for the first time, they drew up a Constitution, which all signed, and which binds them to claim no wages.
Clothing is served to all the members alike from a common store. As to food: as at Aurora, each family receives pigs enough for meat, and cows enough for milk and butter; and adjoining each house is a garden of from a quarter to half an acre, in which the women work to raise vegetables for the home supply—the men helping at odd hours. But it is plainly understood that each may, and indeed is expected to raise a surplus of chickens, eggs, vegetables, fruits, etc., which is sold at the store for such luxuries as coffee, sugar, and articles of food brought from a distance. The calves are raised for the community. I found that one member was a silversmith and photographer; and all that he sold to his fellow-members of course they paid for with the surplus products of their small holdings. Flour and meal they take from the mill as they please, and no account is kept of it.
The trustees are also foremen, and lay out the work. The people rise with the sun, and have three meals a day. Before every house, neatly piled up in the street, I noticed large supplies of fire-wood, sawed and split. They hire a few laborers to cut wood for them; it is then drawn into town and to each man's door by the community teams; and thereupon each family is expected to saw and split its own supplies. In fact, they make a general effort, and with singing and much merriment the wood-piles are properly prepared. This certainly is a convenience which the backwood farmer's wife is often without; but the untidy look of a great wood-pile before each house vexed my eyes.
The older men complained to me that the emigration to Oregon of so many of their young people had crippled them; and, indeed, I saw many signs of neglect—buildings in want of repair, and a lack of tidiness. But still they appear to be making money; for they have recently rebuilt their grist-mill, and have also within a few years paid off a debt of between three and four thousand dollars.
[Illustration: Church at Bethel, Missouri]
The religious belief of the Bethel Communists is, of course, the same with their Aurora brethren. They venerate Dr. Keil as the wisest of mankind, and abhor all ceremonies and sects. I was told that they celebrate the Lord's Supper at irregular intervals, and then by a regular supper, held either in the church or in a private house.
The people, like those of Aurora, are simple Germans of the lower class, and they live comfortably after their fashion. They have no library, and read few books except the Bible. They have never printed any thing. In many of the houses I noticed two beds in one room, and that the principal sitting-room of the family. Dr. Giese, the president, has living with him most of the young men who are without family connections in the society. There are usually no carpets in the houses. But every thing is clean; the beds are neat; and it is only out of doors that litter is to be found.
The people have but little ingenuity; there is a lack of labor-saving devices; indeed, the only thing of the kind I saw was a wash-house, through which the hot water from the boiler of the mill is led; but the house itself was badly arranged and comfortless. The young people have a band of music, but no other amusement that I could hear of. Tobacco they use freely, and strong drink is allowed; but they have no drunkards.
As their future is secure, the people marry young, and this probably does much to bind them to the place. No restriction is placed upon marriage, except that if one marries out of the community, he must leave it.
The extraordinary feature of the Bethel and Aurora communities is the looseness of the bond which keeps the people together. They might break up at any time; but they have remained in community for thirty years. Their religious belief is extremely simple, and yet it seems to suffice to hold them. They have not had among them any good business-men, yet they have managed to make a reasonably fair business success; for though, as I remarked concerning Aurora, almost any farmer industrious and economical as they are would have been pecuniarily better off after so many years, still these people, but for their determination to have their goods in common, would for the most part to-day have been day-laborers.
In weighing results, one should not forget the character of those who have achieved them; and considering what these people are, it cannot be denied that they have lived better in community than they would have lived by individual effort.
THE ICARIANS,
NEAR
CORNING, IOWA.
THE ICARIANS.
Etienne Cabet had a pretty dream; this dream took hold of his mind, and he spent sixteen years of his life in trying to turn it into real life.
One cannot help respecting the handful of men and women who, in the wilderness of Iowa, have for more than twenty years faithfully endeavored to work out the problem of Communism according to the system he left them; but Cabet's own writings persuade me that he was little more than a vain dreamer, without the grim patience and steadfast unselfishness which must rule the nature of one who wishes to found a successful communistic society.
Cabet was born at Dijon, in France, in 1788. He was educated for the bar, but became a politician and writer. He was a leader of the Carbonari; was a member of the French Legislature; wrote a history of the French Revolution of July; established a newspaper; was condemned to two years' imprisonment for an article in it, but evaded his sentence by flying to London; in 1839 returned to France, and published a history of the French Revolution in four volumes; and the next year issued a book somewhat famous in its day—the voyage to Icaria. In this romance he described a communistic Utopia, whose terms he had dreamed out; and he began at once to try to realize his dream. He framed a constitution for an actual Icaria; sought for means and members to establish it; selected Texas as its field of operations, and early in 1848 actually persuaded a number of persons to set sail for the Red River country.
Sixty-nine persons formed the advance guard of his Utopia. They were attacked by yellow fever, and suffered greatly; and by the time next year when Cabet arrived at New Orleans with a second band, the first was already disorganized. He heard, on his arrival, that the Mormons had been driven from Nauvoo, in Illinois, leaving their town deserted; and in May, 1850, he established his followers there.
They bought at Nauvoo houses sufficient to accommodate them, but very little land, renting such farms as they needed. They lived there on a communal system, and ate in a great dining-room. But Cabet, I have been told, did not intend to form his colony permanently there, but regarded Nauvoo only as a rendezvous for those who should join the community, intending to draft them thence to the real settlements, which he wished to found in Iowa.
If Cabet had been a leader of the right temper, he might, I believe, have succeeded; for he appears to have secured the only element indispensable to success—a large number of followers. He had at Nauvoo at one time not less than fifteen hundred people. With so many members, a wise leader with business skill ought to be able to accomplish very much in a single year; in ten years his commune, if he could keep it together, ought to be wealthy.
The Icarians labored and planted with success at Nauvoo; they established trades of different kinds, as well as manufactures; and Cabet set up a printing-office, and issued a number of books and pamphlets in French and German, intended to attract attention to the community. Among these, a pamphlet of twelve pages, entitled, "Wenn ich $500,000 hätte" ("If I had half a million dollars"), which bears date Nauvoo, 1854, gives in some detail his plans and desires. It is a statement of what he could and would achieve for a commune if some one would start him with a capital of half a million; and the fact that four years after he came to Nauvoo he should still have spent his time in such an impracticable dream, shows, I think, that he was not a fit leader for the enterprise. For nothing appears to me more certain than that a communistic society, to be successful, needs above all things to have the training, mental and physical, which comes out of a life of privation, spent in the patient accumulation of property by the labors of the members.
Moreover, in Cabet's first paragraph he shows contempt for one of the vital principles of a communistic society. "If I had five hundred thousand dollars," he writes, "this would open to us an immense credit, and in this way vastly increase our means." But it is absolutely certain that debt is the bane of such societies; and the remnant of Icarians who have so tenaciously and bravely held together in Iowa would be the first to confess this, for they suffered hardships for years because of debt.
If he had half a million, Cabet goes on to say, he would be able to establish his commune upon a broad and generous scale; and he draws a pretty picture of dwellings supplied with gas and hot and cold water; of factories fitted up on the largest scale; of fertile farms under the best culture; of schools, high and elementary; of theatres, and other places of amusement; of elegantly kept pleasure-grounds, and so on. Alas for the dreams of a dreamer! I turned over the leaves of his pamphlet while wandering through the muddy lanes of the present Icaria, on one chilly Sunday in March, with a keen sense of pain at the contrast between the comfort and elegance he so glowingly described and the dreary poverty of the life which a few determined men and women have there chosen to follow, for the sake of principles which they hold both true and valuable.
I have heard that Cabet developed at Nauvoo a dictatorial spirit, and that this produced in time a split in the society. The leader and his adherents went off to St. Louis, where he died in 1856. Meantime some of the members were already settled in Iowa, and those who remained at Nauvoo after Cabet's desertion or flight dispersed; the property was sold, and the Illinois colony came to an end. The greater part of the members went off, more or less disappointed. Between fifty and sixty settled upon the Iowa estate, and here began life, very poor and with a debt of twenty thousand dollars in some way fixed upon their land.
Their narrow means allowed them to build at first only the meanest mud hovels. They thought themselves prosperous when they were able to build log-cabins, though these were so wretched that comfort must have been unknown among them for years. They were obliged to raise all that they consumed; and they lived, and indeed still live, in the narrowest way.
The Icarian Commune lies about four miles from Corning, a station on the Burlington and Missouri River Railroad, in Iowa. They began here with four thousand acres of land, pretty well selected, and twenty thousand dollars of debt. After some years of struggle they gave up the land to their creditors, with the condition that they might redeem one half of it within a certain stipulated time. This they were able to do by hard work and pinching economy; and they own at present one thousand nine hundred and thirty-six acres, part of which is in timber, and valuable on that account.
There are in all sixty-five members, and eleven families. The families are not large, for there are twenty children and only twenty-three voters in the community.
They possess a saw-mill and grist-mill, built out of their savings within five years, and now a source of income. They cultivate three hundred and fifty acres of land, and have one hundred and twenty head of cattle, five hundred head of sheep, two hundred and fifty hogs, and thirty horses. Until within three years the settlement contained only log-cabins, and these very small, and not commodiously arranged. Since then they have got entirely out of debt, and have begun to build frame houses. The most conspicuous of these is a two-story building, sixty by twenty-four feet in dimensions, which contains the common dining-room, kitchen, a provision cellar, and up stairs a room for a library, and apartments for a family. In the spring of 1874 they had nearly a dozen frame houses, which included the dining-hall, a wash-house, dairy, and school-house. All the dwellings are small and very cheaply built. They have small shops for carpentry, blacksmithing, wagon-making, and shoemaking; and they make, as far as possible, all they use.
Most of the people are French, and this is the language mainly spoken, though I found that German was also understood. Besides the French, there are among the members one American, one Swiss, a Swede, and a Spaniard, and two Germans. The children look remarkably healthy, and on Sunday were dressed with great taste. The living is still of the plainest. In the common dining-hall they assemble in groups at the tables, which were without a cloth, and they drink out of tin cups, and pour their water from tin cans. "It is very plain," said one to me; "but we are independent—no man's servants—and we are content."
They sell about two thousand five hundred pounds of wool each year, and a certain number of cattle and hogs; and these, with the earnings of their mills, are the sources of their income.
Their number does not increase, though four or five years ago they were reduced to thirty members; but since then seven who went off have returned. I should say that they had passed over the hardest times, and that a moderate degree of prosperity is possible to them now; but they have waited long for it. I judge that they had but poor skill in management and no business talent; but certainly they had abundant courage and determination.
They live under a somewhat elaborate constitution, made for them by Cabet, which lays down with great care the equality and brotherhood of mankind, and the duty of holding all things in common; abolishes servitude and service (or servants); commands marriage, under penalties; provides for education; and requires that the majority shall rule. In practice they elect a president once a year, who is the executive officer, but whose powers are strictly limited to carrying out the commands of the society. "He could not even sell a bushel of corn without instructions," said one to me. Every Saturday evening they hold a meeting of all the adults, women as well as men, for the discussion of business and other affairs. Officers are chosen at every meeting to preside and keep the records; the president may present subjects for discussion; and women may speak, but have no vote. The conclusions of the meeting are to rule the president during the next week. All accounts are made up monthly, and presented to the society for discussion and criticism. Besides the president, there are four directors—of agriculture, clothing, general industry, and building. These carry on the necessary work, and direct the other members. They buy at wholesale twice a year, and just before these purchases are made each member in public meeting makes his or her wants known. Luxury is prohibited in the constitution, but they have not been much tempted in that direction so far. They use tobacco, however.
They have no religious observances. Sunday is a day of rest from labor, when the young men go out with guns, and the society sometimes has theatrical representations, or music, or some kind of amusement. The principle is to let each one do as he pleases.
They employ two or three hired men to chop wood and labor on the farm.
They have a school for the children, the president being teacher.
The people are opposed to what is called a "unitary home," and prefer to have a separate dwelling for each family.
The children are kept in school until they are sixteen; and the people lamented their poverty, which prevented them from providing better education for them.
Members are received by a three-fourths' majority.
This is Icaria. It is the least prosperous of all the communities I have visited; and I could not help feeling pity, if not for the men, yet for the women and children of the settlement, who have lived through all the penury and hardship of these many years. A gentleman who knew of my visit there writes me: "Please deal gently and cautiously with Icaria. The man who sees only the chaotic village and the wooden shoes, and only chronicles those, will commit a serious error. In that village are buried fortunes, noble hopes, and the aspirations of good and great men like Cabet. Fertilized by these deaths, a great and beneficent growth yet awaits Icaria. It has an eventful and extremely interesting history, but its future is destined to be still more interesting. It, and it alone, represents in America a great idea—rational democratic communism."
I am far from belittling the effort of the men of Icaria. They have shown, as I have said, astonishing courage and perseverance. They have proved their faith in the communistic idea by labors and sufferings which seem to me pitiful. In fact, communism is their religion. But their long siege at fortune's door only shows how important, and indeed indispensable to the success of such an effort, it is to have an able leader, and to give to him almost unlimited power and absolute obedience.
THE BISHOP HILL COMMUNE.
I have determined to give a brief account of the Swedish colony at Bishop Hill, in Henry County, Illinois, because, though it has now ceased to exist as a communistic society, its story yields some instructive lessons in the creation and maintenance of such associations. These Swedes began in abject poverty, and in the course of a few years built up a prosperous town and settlement. They rashly went into debt: debt brought lawsuits and disputes into the society, and all three broke it up.
The people of Bishop Hill came from the region of Helsingland, in Sweden. In their own country they were Pietists, and Separatists from the State Church, mostly farmers, scattered over a considerable district, but united by their peculiar doctrines, and by the efforts of their preachers. I am told that they came into existence as a sect about 1830; in 1843 their chief preacher was a man of some energy, Eric Janson by name; and he taught them the duty of living after the manner of the Primitive Christian Church, inculcating humble and prayerful lives, equality of conditions, and community of property.
Their refusal to attend church, and to submit themselves to its ordinances, excited the attention of the government, which, probably also alarmed at the phrase "community of goods," began to persecute them with fines and imprisonment. Police officers were sent to break up their congregations; they imagined themselves threatened with confiscation; and in 1845 they sent one of their number, Olaf Olson, to the United States, to see if they could not here find land on which to live in peace and freedom. Olson's inquiries led him to Illinois; he selected Henry County as a favorable situation; and in 1846, on his report, the people determined to emigrate in a body, the few wealthy agreeing to pay the expenses of the poor. They say that when they were ready to embark, they were refused permission to leave their country, and Jonas Olson, one of their leaders, had to go to the king, who, on his prayer, finally allowed them to depart.
The first ship-load left Galfa in the summer of 1846, and arrived at Bishop Hill in October of that year. Others followed, until by the summer of 1848 they had eight hundred people on this spot—which they named from an eminence in their own country.
They appear to have spent most of their means in the emigration, for they were able during the first year to buy only forty acres of land, and for eighteen months they lived in extreme poverty—in holes in the ground, and under sheds built against hillsides; and ground their corn for bread in hand-mills, often laboring at this task by turns all night, to provide meal for the next day. A tent made of linen cloth was their church during this time; and they worked the land of neighboring farmers on shares to gain a subsistence. Living on the prairie, fever and ague attacked them and added to their wretchedness.
By 1848 they had acquired two hundred acres of land, but were $1800 in debt, which they had borrowed to keep them from starving; but in this year they built a brick church, and they now worked a good deal of land on shares. In 1849 they began to build a very long brick house, still standing, which served them as kitchen and dining-hall. In the same year Jonas Olson, a preacher, took eight young men, and with the consent of the society went to California to dig gold for the common interest. He returned after a year, unsuccessful.
In 1850 Eric Janson, their leader, was shot in the Henry County court-house, while attending a trial in which a young man, not a member of the community, claimed his wife, a girl who was a member, and whom he wished to take away. I do not know the merits of the case, nor is it important here. During this year Olaf Janson returned from Sweden with several thousand dollars which he had been sent to collect—being debts due some of the members; and this money, which enabled them to buy land, appears to have given them their first fair start.
At this time, though they were still poor, they had built a number of brick dwellings, had set up shops for carpentry, blacksmithing, wagon-making, etc.; were raising flax, selling the seed, and making the fiber into linen, some of which they sold; and they had a few cattle, and a worn-out saw-mill. They had set up a school, even while they lived "in the caves," and now hired an American teacher.
In 1853 they got an act of incorporation from the Illinois Legislature, which enabled them to hold land and transact business as an association, and in the name of trustees; until that time all they owned was held in the name of individual members. In the same year they made a contract to raise, during two years, seven hundred acres of broom-corn, for which they received in cash on delivery fifty dollars a ton. As yet they had no railroad, and had to haul their corn fifty miles. At this time, too, they began to improve their breeds of cattle; paid high prices for one or two short-horn bulls, and were soon famous in their region for the excellence of their stock. They also made wagons for the neighboring farmers, and established a grist-mill.
In 1854-5 they took a contract to grade a part of the Chicago, Burlington, and Quincy Railroad line, and to build some bridges; and as they were able to put a considerable body of their young men upon this work, it brought them in a good deal of money. They now began to erect brick dwellings, a town-hall, and a large hotel, where they for a while did a good business. They made excellent brick, and all their houses are very solidly built, plain, but of pleasing exteriors. The most remarkable one is the long dining-hall and kitchen, with a bakery and brewery adjoining. In the upper story of this building a considerable number of families lived; in the lower story all the people—to the number of a thousand at one time—ate three times a day.
They were now prospering. In 1859 they owned ten thousand acres of land, and had it all neatly fenced and in excellent order. They had the finest cattle in the state; and their shops and mills earned money from the neighboring farmers.
The families lived separately, but all ate together. They received their clothing supplies at a common storehouse as they needed them, and labored under the direction of foremen. Their business organization was always loose. They had no president or single head. A body of trustees transacted business, and made reports to the society, not regularly, but at irregular intervals. There seems, too, to have been a speculative spirit among them, for while in 1859 they owned ten thousand acres of land and a town, which must have been worth at least three hundred thousand dollars, as the land was all fenced and improved, and the town was uncommonly well built, [Footnote: Between four and five hundred thousand dollars was their own valuation; and in 1860 a report given in one of the briefs of a lawsuit gives their assets at $864,000, and their debts at less than $100,000.] they owed at that time, or in 1860, between eighty and one hundred thousand dollars.
Their religions life was very simple. They had no paid preacher, but expected their leaders to labor during the week with the rest. On Sunday they had two services in the church—at ten in the morning, and between six and seven in the evening. At these, after singing and prayer, the preacher read the Bible, and commented on what he read. On every week-day evening, unless the weather was bad, they held a similar meeting, which lasted an hour and a half. They had no library, and encouraged no reading except in the Bible, teaching that the most important matter for every man was to get a thorough understanding of the commandments of God. They had for a little while a newspaper, and they printed at the neighboring town of Galva, which was their business centre, an edition of their hymn-book. [Footnote: "Några Sånger, samt Böner. Förfatade af Erik Janson. Förenade Staterna, Galva, Ills. S. Cronsioe, 1857."] They discouraged amusements, as tending to worldliness; and though they appear to have lived happily and without disputes, about 1859 they discovered that their young people, who had grown up in the society, were discontented, found the community life dull, did not care for the religious views of the society, and were ready to break up the organization.
When this discontent arose, the looseness of the organization was fatal. With a more compact and energetic administration, either the dissatisfied elements would have been eliminated quietly, or the causes of dissatisfaction, mainly, as far as I could understand, the dullness of the life and the lack of amusements, would have been removed. But with a loose organization there appears to have been, what is not unnatural, rigidity of discipline. There was no power any where to make changes. "The discontented ones wanted a change, but no change was possible: it was often discussed." The young people persuaded some of the older ones to be of their mind, and thus two parties were formed; and after many meetings, in which I imagine there were sometimes bitter words, it was determined in the spring of 1860 to divide the property, the Olson party, as it was called, including two thirds of the membership, determining with their share to continue the community, while the Janson party determined on individual effort.
Hereupon two thirds of the real and personal property was set apart for the Olson party, but for a whole year the two parties lived together at Bishop Hill. In 1861 the Janson party divided their share among the families composing it; and in the same year the disorganization proceeded another step. The Olson party fell into three divisions. In 1862, finally, all the property was divided, and the commune ceased to exist.
In 1860 a receiver had been appointed. In 1861 Olaf Janson was appointed attorney in fact. This became necessary, because, besides the property, there were debts; and when the trustees were removed and a receiver was appointed, the question necessarily came up how the debts should be met. The division of the property was made by a committee of the society, who took a complete inventory, including even the smallest household articles; and at the time there seems to have been no complaint of unfairness. The whole was divided into shares, of which each man received one, and women and children fractional shares. A part of the property was set off, sufficient, as it was then believed, to pay off the indebtedness; but it proved insufficient, and finally each farm given to a member in the partition was saddled with a share of indebtedness; and as there was poor management after the disorganization began, and as the debt constantly increased by the non-payment of interest, there are now, thirteen years after the final partition, heavy lawsuits still pending in the courts against the colony and its trustees.
In 1861 the community raised a company of soldiers for the Union army, furnishing both privates and officers. These fought through the war, and one of the younger members after the war was, for meritorious conduct and promising intellect, taken as a scholar at West Point, where he was graduated with honor.
At present Bishop Hill is slowly falling into decay. The houses are still mostly inhabited; there are several shops and stores; but the larger buildings are out of repair; and business has centred at Galva, five or six miles distant. Most of the former communists live happily on their small farms. A Methodist church has been built in the village, and has some attendants, but a good many of the older members have adopted the Adventist or Millerite faith, which appears to revive after every failure of prediction, especially in the West, where people seem to look forward with a quite singular pleasure to the fiery end of all things.
On the whole, it is a melancholy story. It shows both what can be achieved by combined industry, and what trifles can destroy such an organization as a communistic society. It shows the extreme importance of a central authority, wisely administered but also implicitly obeyed; able therefore to yield, as well as to act, promptly. The history of these Bishop Hill Communists also shows the necessity of great caution in all financial affairs in a commune, which ought to avoid debt like the plague, and to live financially as though it might break up at any moment.
Not only were debt and the speculative spirit out of which debt arose the causes of the colony's failure, but they have brought great trouble on the people since. Had there been no debt, the commune could have divided its property among the members at any time, without loss or trouble; and I suspect that the possibility of such an immediate division might have induced the people to keep together.
At any rate, the story of Bishop Hill shows how important it would be to a community agreeing to labor and produce in common for a limited time to keep free from debt.
THE CEDAR VALE COMMUNITY.
At Cedar Vale, in Howard County, Kansas, a communistic society has been founded, which, though its small numbers might make it insignificant, is remarkable by reason of the nationality of some of its members.
It was begun three years ago, and the purpose of its projectors was "to achieve both communism and individual freedom, or to lead persons of all kinds of opinions to labor together for their common welfare. If there was to be any law, it should be only for the regulation of industry or hours of work." I quote this from the letter of a gentleman who is familiar with this society, and who has been kind enough to send me its constitution, and to give me the following particulars: "It is now three years since the founders of the society settled in this domain, coming here entirely destitute, and building first as a residence a covered burrow in a hillside. Two of them had left affluence and position in Russia, and subjected themselves to this poverty for the sake of their principles. Of course they suffered here from fever, from insufficient food, and cold, and were not able to make much improvement on the place. The practical condition now, though insignificant from the common point of view, compared with what has been, is very satisfactory. There are at least comfortable shelter and enough to eat, and this year sufficient land will be fenced and planted to leave a surplus.
"The propaganda has been made among two essentially differing classes of socialists—the Russian Materialists and the American Spiritualists. Both these classes are represented in the community, and thus far seem to live in harmony. There are here a 'hygienic doctor' and a 'reformed clergyman,' both Spiritualists, and a Russian sculptor of considerable fame, a Russian astronomer, and a very pretty and devoted and wonderfully industrious Russian woman."
The printed statement made by the community I copy here, as a sufficient account of its numbers and possessions in April, 1874:
"The PROGRESSIVE COMMUNITY is located near Cedar Vale, Howard County, Kansas, has three hundred and twenty acres of choice prairie land, with abundance of stock, water, and with all advantages for successful farming, stock and fruit raising.
"The nearest railroad station is Independence, Montgomery County,
Kansas, fifty miles east from the place.
"The community was established in January, 1871. It is out of debt now, and has a fair prospect for success in the future.
"The business of the community consists chiefly in farming.
"Number of members: four males; three females; one child. Persons on probation: two males; one female; one child.
"Improvements: frame house; stable; forty acres under fence; four acres of orchard and vines.
"Live stock and implements: four horses; four oxen; three cows and calves.
"The co-operation of earnest communists is wanted for the better realization of a true home based on Liberty, Equality, and Fraternity.
"No fee is required from those who visit the community, but their work for the community is regarded as equivalent to their current expenses.
"The principles and organization of the community can be seen from the following constitution.
"PREAMBLE."
"Whereas, we believe that man is not only an individual having rights as such, but also owing social duties to others, and that strict justice requires us to help each other, and that our highest happiness and development can only be attained by a union and co-operation of interests and efforts; Therefore, we pledge ourselves to live
"'For the cause that lacks assistance,
For the wrong that needs resistance,
For the future in the distance,
And the good that we can do.'
"And we, whose names are annexed, hereby organize ourselves under the name of the PROGRESSIVE COMMUNITY, and agree to devote our labor and means, to the full extent of our ability, to carry out the following:
"CONSTITUTION."
"ARTICLE I."
"SEC. 1.—The community shall be considered as a family. The members shall unite in their labor and business, hold their property in common for the use of all, and dwell together in a unitary home."
"SEC. 2.—Each member shall be free to hold whatever opinions his conscience may dictate; and the community shall make no restriction or regulation interfering with the freedom of any, except when his actions conflict with the rights of others."
"SEC. 3.—All shall be alike responsible for the strict observance of this constitution. Equal rights and privileges shall be accorded to all members; but the community may temporarily withhold from a member the right to vote by the unanimous consent of the rest."
"ARTICLE II."
"SEC. 1.—All matters concerning the welfare of the community shall be decided by the members at their meetings, which shall be of the following kinds: (1) Daily business meetings for the decision of daily work; (2) Weekly meetings for the discussion of business questions, and for remarks on the general interests and welfare of the community."
"SEC. 2.—All decisions, except as herein otherwise provided for, shall be by a majority of three fourths of all the members."
"SEC. 3.—Debts may be contracted, or credit given, only by the unanimous vote of the community."
"SEC. 4.—The officers of the community shall consist of a president, secretary, treasurer, and managers. They shall be elected at the end of each year, and enter on the duties of their offices on the first of January following, being subject to removal at any time."
"SEC. 5.—The president shall preside at all meetings, shall see that the decisions of the community are carried out, and make temporary arrangements for the business of the day when necessary."
"SEC. 6.—The secretary shall record the proceedings of all the meetings of the community, attend to all its correspondence, and preserve all the valuable documents thereof."
"SEC. 7.—The treasurer shall hold the fund of the community, and keep an accurate account of all money received or expended; but no money shall be paid out except as appropriated by the community. He shall make a report at each business meeting."
"SEC. 8.—The managers shall control the different departments to which they are elected, decide all details of business, if not previously acted upon by the community, and make reports at each business meeting."
"ARTICLE III."
"SEC. 1.—Any person, after having lived in the community, and having become thoroughly acquainted with its members and the community life, may become a member by subscribing to this constitution; provided he is accepted by the unanimous vote of the community."
"SEC. 2.—All property which members may have, or may receive from any source or at any time, shall be given to the community without reservation or return."
"SEC. 3.—The members shall be furnished with food, clothing, and lodging, care and attention in sickness, misfortune, infancy, or old age, and the means and opportunity for a complete integral education, and for such other necessary requirements as the community can afford; and these benefits shall be guaranteed by the whole resources of the community."
"SEC. 4.—A withdrawing member shall not bring any claim against the community on account of any labor, services, or property given thereto; but his current expenses and the advantages of the community life shall be considered as an equivalent therefore. He shall be allowed to take from the common property only what may be decided upon by the community at the time of withdrawal."
"SEC. 5.—Children of the members, or those which may be adopted by the community, shall be considered as members thereof; they shall have equal rights as herein specified, except voting, to which privilege they shall be admitted when the community by unanimous consent shall think best, and after signing their names to this constitution."
"ARTICLE IV."
"Any amendments, additions to, or interpretations of this constitution may be made at any time by unanimous vote of the community."
THE SOCIAL FREEDOM COMMUNITY.
This is a communistic society, established in the beginning of the year 1874 in Chesterfield County, Virginia. It has as "full members" two women, one man, and three boys, with four women and five men as "probationary members." They have a farm of three hundred and thirty-three acres, unencumbered with debt, and with a water-power on it; and are attempting general farming, the raising of medicinal herbs, sawing lumber and staves, coopering, and the grinding of grain. The members are all Americans.
They hold, the secretary writes me, to "unity of interests, and political, religious, and social freedom; and believe that every individual should have absolute control of herself or himself, and that, so long as they respect the same freedom in others, no one has a right to infringe on that individuality."
The secretary further writes: "We have no constitution or bylaws; ignore the idea of man's total depravity; and believe that all who are actuated by a love of truth and a desire to progress (and we will knowingly accept no others), can be better governed by love and moral suasion than by any arbitrary laws. Our government consists in free criticism. We have a unitary home."
COLONIES WHICH ARE NOT COMMUNISTIC.
COLONIES—NOT COMMUNISTIC.
I have noticed that not unfrequently Vineland, in New Jersey, and Anaheim, in California, are classed with Communistic Societies. They are nothing of the kind; and only one of the two—Anaheim, namely—was in the beginning even co-operative.
As, however, both these settlements were founded under peculiar circumstances, and as both show what can be achieved in a short time by men of narrow means, acting more or less in concert for certain purposes, I have determined to give here a brief history of the two places.
Anaheim.
Anaheim, the oldest of these two "colonies," lies in Los Angeles County, in Southern California, about thirty miles from the town of Los Angeles, and ten or twelve miles from the ocean, upon a fertile and well-watered plain. In its settlement it was strictly a co-operative enterprise.
In 1857 several Germans in San Francisco proposed to certain of their countrymen to purchase by a united effort a tract of land in the southern part of the state, cause it to be subdivided into small farms, and procure these to be fenced, planted with grape-vines and trees, and otherwise prepared for the settlement of the owners. After some deliberation, fifty men set their names to an agreement to buy eleven hundred and sixty-five acres of land, at two dollars per acre; securing water-rights for irrigation with the purchase, because in that region the dry summers necessitate artificial watering.
The originator of the enterprise, Mr. Hansen, of Los Angeles, a German lawyer and civil engineer, a man of culture, was appointed by his associates to select and secure the land; and eventually he became the manager of the whole enterprise, up to the point where it lost its co-operative features and the members took possession of their farms.
The Anaheim associates consisted in the main of mechanics, and they had not a farmer among them. They were all Germans. There were several carpenters, a gunsmith, an engraver, three watch-makers, four blacksmiths, a brewer, a teacher, a shoemaker, a miller, a hatter, a hotel-keeper, a bookbinder, four or five musicians, a poet (of course), several merchants, and some teamsters. It was a very heterogeneous assembly; they had but one thing in common: they were all, with one or two exceptions, poor. Very few had more than a few dollars saved; most of them had neither cash nor credit enough to buy even a twenty-acre farm; and none of them were in circumstances which promised them more than a decent living.
The plan of the society was to buy the land, and thereupon to cause it to be subdivided and improved as I have said by monthly contributions from the members, who were meantime to go on with their usual employments in San Francisco. It was agreed to divide the eleven hundred and sixty-five acres into fifty twenty-acre tracts, and fifty village lots, the village to stand in the centre of the purchase. Fourteen lots were also set aside for school-houses and other public buildings.
With the first contribution the land was bought. The fifty associates had to pay about fifty dollars each for this purpose. This done, they appointed Mr. Hansen their agent to make the projected improvements; and they, it may be supposed, worked a little more steadily and lived a little more frugally in San Francisco. He employed Spaniards and Indians as laborers; and what he did was to dig a ditch seven miles long to lead water out of the Santa Anna River, with four hundred and fifty miles of subsidiary ditches and twenty-five miles of feeders to lead the water over every twenty-acre lot. This done, he planted on every farm eight acres of grapes and some fruit-trees; and on the whole place over five miles of outside willow fencing and thirty-five miles of inside fencing. Willows grow rapidly in that region, and make a very close fence, yielding also fire-wood sufficient for the farmer's use.
All this had to be done gradually, so that the payments for labor should not exceed the monthly contributions of the associates, for they had no credit to use in the beginning, and contracted no debts.
When the planting was done, the superintendent cultivated and pruned the grape-vines and trees, and took care of the place; and it was only when the vines were old enough to bear, and thus to yield an income at once, that the proprietors took possession.
At the end of three years the whole of this labor had been performed and paid for; the vines were ready to bear a crop, and the division of lots took place. Each shareholder had at this time paid in all twelve hundred dollars; a few, I have been told, fell behind somewhat, but were helped by some of their associates who were in better circumstances. If we suppose that most of the members had no money laid by at the beginning of the enterprise, it would appear that during three years they saved, over and above their living, somewhat less than eight dollars a week—a considerable sum, but easily possible at that time in California to a good and steady mechanic.
It was inevitable that some of the small farms should be more valuable than others; and there was naturally a difference, too, in the village lots. To make the division fairly, all the places were viewed, and a schedule was made of them, on which each was assessed at a certain price, varying from six hundred to fourteen hundred dollars, according to its situation, the excellence of its fruit, etc. They were then distributed by a kind of lottery, with the condition that if the farm drawn was valued in the schedule over twelve hundred dollars, he who drew it should pay into the general treasury the surplus; if it was valued at less, he who drew it received from the common fund a sum which h, added to the value of his farm, equaled twelve hundred dollars. Thus A, who drew a fourteen-hundred-dollar lot, paid two hundred dollars; B, who drew a six-hundred-dollar lot, received six hundred dollars additional in cash.
The property was by this time in such a state of improvement that money could readily be borrowed on the security of these small farms. Moreover, when the drawing was completed, there was a sale of the effects of the company—horses, tools, etc.; and on closing all the accounts and balancing the books, it was found that there remained a sum of money in the general treasury sufficient to give each of the fifty shareholders a hundred dollars in cash as a final dividend.
When this was done, the co-operative feature of the enterprise disappeared. The members, each in his own good time, settled on their farms. Lumber was bought at wholesale, and they began to build their houses. Fifty families make a little town in any of our Western States, sufficiently important to attract traders. The village lots at once acquired a value, and some were sold to shopkeepers. A school was quickly established; mechanics of different kinds came down to Anaheim to work for wages; and the colonists in fact gathered about them at once many conveniences which, if they had settled singly, they could not have commanded for some years.
They were still poor, however. But few of them were able even to build the slight house needed in that climate without running into debt. For borrowed money they had to pay from two to three per cent, per month interest. Moreover, none of them were farmers; and they had to learn to cultivate, prune, and take care of their vines, to make wine, and to make a vegetable garden. They had from the first to raise and sell enough for their own support, and to pay at least the heavy interest on their debts. It resulted that for some years longer they had a struggle with a burden of debt, and had to live with great economy. But the people told me that they had always enough to eat, a good school for their children, and the immense satisfaction of being their own employers. "We had music and dancing in those days; and, though we were very poor, I look back to those times as the happiest in all our lives," said one man to me.
And they gradually got out of debt. Not one failed. The sheriff has never sold out any one in Anaheim; and only one of the original settlers had left the place when I saw it in 1872. They have no destitute people. Their vineyards give them an annual clear income of from two hundred and fifty to one thousand dollars over and above their living expenses; their children have enjoyed the advantages of a social life and a fairly good school. And, finally, the property which originally cost them an average of one thousand and eighty dollars for each, is now worth from five to ten thousand dollars. They live well, and feel themselves as independent as though they were millionaires.
Now this was an enterprise which any company of prudent mechanics, with a steadfast purpose, might easily imitate. The founders of Anaheim were not picked men. I have been told that they were not without jealousies and suspicions of each other and of their manager, which made his life often uncomfortable, and threatened the life of the undertaking. They had grumblers, fault-finders, and wiseacres in their company, as probably there will be among any company of fifty men; and I have heard that Mr. Hansen, who was their able and honest manager, declared that he would rather starve than conduct another such enterprise.
They were extremely fortunate to have for their manager an honest, patient, and sufficiently able man; and such a leader is indeed the corner-stone of an undertaking of this kind. Granted a man sufficiently wise and honest, in whom his associates can have confidence, and there needs only moderate patience, perseverance, and economy, in the body of the company, to achieve success. Nor could I help noticing, when I was at Anaheim, that the experience and training which men gain in carrying to success—no matter through what struggles of poverty, self-denial, and debt—such an enterprise, has an admirable effect on their characters. The men of Anaheim were originally a very common class of mechanics; they have stepped up to a higher plane of life—they are masters of their own lives. This result—namely, the training of families in the hardier virtues, their elevation to a higher moral as well as physical standard—is certainly not to be overlooked by any thoughtful man.
Vineland.
Vineland was not a co-operative enterprise. It is the land-speculation of a long-headed, kind-hearted man, who believed that he could form a settlement profitable and advantageous to many people, and with pecuniary benefit to himself. Until the year 1861, the southern part of New Jersey contained a large region known as "the Barrens," and very sparsely settled with a rude and unthrifty population. The light soil was supposed to be unfit for profitable agriculture; and the country for miles was covered with scrub pine and small oak timber, used chiefly for charcoal, and as fuel for some glass factories at Millville and Glassborough. Much of this land was owned in large tracts, and brought in but a small revenue. When the West Jersey Railroad, connecting Cape May with Philadelphia, was completed, it ran through many miles of these "Barrens," and some of the owners, tired of a property which in their hands had little value, were ready to sell out.
Charles K. Landis had conceived the idea of forming a colony, upon certain plans which he had matured in his own mind. His attention was attracted to this region, and after examining the soil and the general character of the region, he bought sixteen thousand acres in one parcel. To this he added, soon after, another purchase of fourteen thousand acres, making thirty thousand in all. He has bought lately (in 1874) twenty-three thousand acres more.
The country is a rolling plain, densely overgrown with small wood, with one or two streams running through it; with water obtainable at from fifteen to thirty feet every where, and perfectly healthy. Mr. Landis took possession in August, 1861, and at once began to develop the land according to his own ideas. He laid out, first, the town site of Vineland, in the centre of the tract; next had the adjacent plain surveyed, and laid out into tracts of ten, twenty, and fifty acres; laid out and opened roads, so as to make these small parcels accessible; and then he began to advertise for settlers.