DEER VALLEY—THE FOUNDING AND NAMING OF CO-OPOLIS—THOMPSON’S AND EDMUNDS’
VIEWS.
It was about noon on the 20th day of May, 1897, that our company entered
Deer Valley. We found a very good road leading up into the mountains
along the south bank of the stream and followed that without difficulty.
The captain, taking six of our horsemen, including myself, went ahead of
the rest of the company, who followed after more slowly with the wagons
and live stock. The sawmill machinery was nearly a day’s journey behind
them.
The captain’s purpose was to select a suitable site for a camp which
would in all probability be more permanent than we had yet made. He was
quite familiar with Deer Valley, as I have already stated, and had in
mind a location which on other occasions he had marked as an excellent
place in which to build a city. In a short time we arrived at this place
and commenced an examination of the surroundings. We all readily agreed
that the captain’s judgment was good and, after viewing the land from
many points, unanimously decided to recommend it to our company as a
proper place to establish our camp.
We were about four miles from Snake river. The valley at this point was
somewhat over five miles wide, walled in by table lands on either side.
These table lands were high elevations with level summits covering many
square miles of fertile but dry lands. They sloped from the summits
through a succession of three shelves, each quite level, down toward the
valley, and thence the valley inclined gently toward the river bed. The
stream itself flowed at the bottom of a deep gully and its banks were
prettily fringed with box elder trees. The table lands, their sloping
sides, the shelves and the broad area of the valley down to the fringe
of box elder trees, presented at this season of the year a beautiful
sight.
All was dressed in the verdure of the rich grasses which make the
highlands and lowlands of Idaho famous as the grazing grounds of those
great herds of cattle which abundantly assist in feeding the world.
There were a few trees in places on the slopes of the highlands, and a
hillock which was proposed as the location of our camp, contained quite
a grove. But except for these, and the fringe of box elders along the
river bank, the entire area was quite open. The stream at this time came
tumbling down the valley at a furious rate, the incline being quite
pronounced. Looking up the valley we saw the giant mountains on whose
majestic tops the snow remained unmelted, and whose lower sides were
black with the foliage of the forest of yellow pine.
We found here a rancher who claimed to be the owner of some three
hundred and twenty acres of land which he had attempted to reclaim by
means of a rather crude irrigating ditch which conducted the water of
the stream from a point above to a portion of his ground. He claimed
also to have washed some gold from the sand taken from the bed of the
creek. The man had lived in the valley for ten years, but was evidently
neither a man of enterprise nor much intelligence. He had once possessed
a considerable herd, but had lost it at the gaming table in some of the
camps, and was poor and anxious to get away into the “diggings” up in
the mountains. He was able to give some information of value to us, and
offered to sell us the ranch and about a hundred acres of land which he
held under the placer mining laws of the United States, for two dollars
an acre.
We were occupied in making these observations when, about two hours
after our arrival, the wagons and their escort reached a point on the
road near the house (it was scarcely more than a hut) of the old
rancher. The captain and myself immediately rode over and directions
were given to proceed to the hillock, where the grove of young trees
already mentioned offered an inviting shelter, and go into camp.
Accordingly the entire company went thither, the teams were unharnessed,
the horses were picketed, some tents were pitched and the men were soon
to be seen engaged in conversation in little groups, some standing on
elevations which offered a commanding view, others moving to various
parts of the valley, and others still, lying down and making
observations while they rested. The farmers were particularly
industrious, looking over old Hacket’s ranch.
As the afternoon of this memorable first day wore to its close the men
all returned to camp, where those to whom the duty of preparing meals
had been assigned had prepared a feast somewhat more elaborate than
usual, and one of them reminded us that this was the first feast on the
site of our new town and that the anniversary of this day would
hereafter be a feast day for years to come. The prophecy was hailed with
approval and the evening was given up to feasting and speaking, just as
has been customary on this anniversary ever since.
After the meal was finished we gathered together under one of the
largest trees in the grove and called upon those who were known to be
speakers to address us. Among others the company called on me and I
proposed that, as we were to have a city, whether it be established on
the spot or in some other place, and as our city must have a name, that
we proceed to give it a name forthwith. To this one of the company,
Albert Ortz, a German, objected, for the reason that our sheep and
cattle men, as well as four of our commoners, being in charge of the
herds which had not yet arrived, ought to be allowed to take part. To
this I replied that our action would not be binding, if we selected a
name, and we could regard the selection now as merely informal. This was
satisfactory and Ortz withdrew his objection. I then called for names to
be voted on. Three only were submitted. Alpha, because it was the first
of its kind; Co-opolis, the city of co-operators, and Omega, which Dr.
Pinder proposed, because, he said rather facetiously, our co-operative
city was about the last hope which labor had left for justice in this
world. The vote was then taken and resulted in a large majority for
Co-opolis. It is as well to say here that afterward our absent members
voted unanimously to approve this name, and the city was so christened.
While this was going on the captain had said nothing and, I observed,
did not even vote. He had been sitting somewhat apart from the rest of
the company with a half-pleased but yet serious look upon his face. I
had come to understand him very well, and knew that he felt grave
apprehensions for the success of this movement, and now I made no doubt
that he was feeling the responsibility which rested upon each member of
the colony.
“Brothers,” said I, “I notice that our captain is serious when he should
be gay. I, for one, vote that the captain give an account of himself.”
Everybody called for the captain.
“My brothers,” said he, in response, “I regret that you have called upon
me to speak, because the thoughts which press for expression are not
altogether in harmony with the gayety of our present festivities. I am
sure that none rejoices more than I do for the safe arrival of our party
in this beautiful valley. But my mind is not with to-day nor yesterday,
but dwells with the future. The project which has brought us here is, in
the light of all history, an exceedingly ambitious one. Failure, it is
true, cannot result injuriously, but success will be a beacon light of
hope to those many millions of men and women who are denied access to
nature’s countless bounties.
“You, my brothers, have wives and children who will follow you ere long
into this fair country. For you, as individuals, the world is opening
out its avenues of comfort, but upon each of us here rests a
responsibility such as few men have ever assumed. We are here not merely
to benefit ourselves, but to benefit, by the force of example, the
waiting and watching world.
“Co-operative enterprises have been successful in many commercial and
mechanical pursuits. As a rule such enterprises have failed so far as
land and its cultivation are concerned. But there is no apparent reason
why they should be less successful than are the enterprises of commerce
and manufacture. Our purpose is to combine all laborious or productive
occupations. Behold, my brothers, this beautiful valley! God has
secreted in almost every inch of its soil the gift of productivity.
Yonder the mountains tower above us. God has made the forest to yield
fuel and lumber for our use. High up on the white-capped summits and
deep down in the cool cisterns of nature are the sources of these waters
which flow in the rushing torrent, and which we may direct thither to
moisten this soil. On the table lands which rise north and south of us
our herds and flocks shall graze.
“You can see, my brothers, that if we fail in our enterprise the fault
will be in us and not in nature. The duty which lies before us is to
work in harmony. We must encourage competition in all lines of mental,
physical and spiritual progress. But we must rid ourselves of
competition in the simple acquisition of property. We must encourage
individualism in all that makes men practical, self-reliant and manly.
We must destroy it in all that makes men grasping and unsympathetic.
“My brothers, the great world beyond deems that man greatest who
acquires the greatest fortune or wields the greatest power, but I say to
you that man is greatest who induces the greatest number of men and
women to do right. Such is the manhood we must honor, and upon the brow
of such we shall place the laurel wreath of victory. If we work to such
a purpose we shall succeed.
“My brothers, the most difficult part of our project lies in our
foundation work. We will meet obstacles. Some of our number may,
perhaps, be of opinion that the first year or two of our struggle here
should be free from difficulty because our ideal is high. If so it were
better that those immediately return to their eastern homes, because
there is nothing for us, the pioneers of the Co-operative Commonwealth,
but arduous labor. Your wives and children look forward to a time when
they may come hither to homes which you have established where the old
system which has forced you into this unsettled country cannot affect
them. What will you do? Will you subjugate self, defer to one another’s
opinions, and work always together, and so make your enterprise succeed?
I believe you will.
“My brothers, this work is in your hands. I have been your leader thus
far, but I now surrender the leadership and insist that the will of the
majority be your guide hereafter.”
When Thompson ceased to speak some seconds elapsed before any one
ventured to break silence. His words were fully appreciated and it was
evident that all comprehended the magnitude of the task which was before
them. Mr. Edmunds, ex-clergyman, voiced the general sentiment of all.
“You are not alone, Brother Thompson,” said he, “in your apprehensions.
Most of us entertain the same doubts as to the future which you have
expressed. But it is better it should be so than that we should, in such
an enterprise, be carried away by enthusiasm. When soldiers approach the
dangers of war, where death and glory mingle, their captain seeks to
inspire them with a courage which dares but does not reason. No need of
that with us. The task we have to accomplish is, in truth, devoid of
danger. It is the easiest ever proposed to the intelligence of man. All
that we need lies where God placed it centuries ago, and is ours, if
only we will take it. If we make this task hard, it is because we will
not reason. If dangers arise, they will not arise from the mountain,
stream or valley, nor yet from yonder table lands nor grassy slopes.
They will arise from ourselves. This we must study to avoid. This is our
work. One thing, my brothers, we must do from the outset. Let our
community be self-dependent. Let us call upon the outside world to help
us as little as possible. Let us build our own homes, burn our own lime,
manufacture our own furniture and crockery. Let us make it a rule that
whatever we can make ourselves, no matter how much labor it costs us,
that we will make. If we do this and work together success is certain.”
The clergyman spoke for nearly half an hour and finished amid great
enthusiasm, for his speech was able and brilliant and calculated to
produce confidence in our enterprise.
This ended the memorable first day.