MISS CAROLINE WOODBERRY AGAIN—THE WEST PARISH—PUBLICATION OF MISS
WOODBERRY’S NOVEL—MARRIAGE—WE VISIT NEW ENGLAND.
Long before the year 1904 drew to its close a great change had taken
place in my life. The feminine disposition of my aunt to make
matrimonial matches had been successful in throwing me into the society
of Miss Caroline Woodberry and after the ride to Canyon Lake, of which I
have already made mention, I was with her whenever leisure and
opportunity permitted.
In Co-opolis there were in all seasons amusements and entertainments of
every kind, and if we tired of one we were not at a loss for diversion
which, while it could not increase the happiness I found in the young
lady’s society, aided me in administering to her pleasure. Society in
Co-opolis was even then refined and intelligent. I do not mean to leave
the impression that our people had in six years acquired all the arts
and foibles which fashionable society in eastern cities mistake for
refinement, but it really was wonderful to see what improvement
prosperity had produced in the manner, bearing and language of most of
our people. While it is possible that such prosperity in the competitive
system, would have caused many to develop the worst traits of their
character, yet the absence of all opportunity to amass a fortune in
speculation or by gambling methods in the co-operative system insured to
each the enjoyment of his own portion. Nobody was or could be purse
proud. Nobody was or could be dependent upon charity. Nobody had
occasion to be ashamed of his material condition.
Good clothes, ornaments, books, pleasant homes and all the conveniences
of modern life were within the reach of all.
Humanity is so constituted, however, that its members must compete,
contend and battle with one another.
What shall be the field for this competition? Over what shall the race
contend? Where shall be the battle ground?
Some philosophers in times past taught that the race must fall into
decay, dwindle into weakness and lose individuality if it was removed
from the struggle for potatoes, meat and coffee. They, perhaps, honestly
believed that it was fatal to progress to raise mankind to an elevated
plane and let the battle be waged for moral, intellectual and perhaps
spiritual supremacy. In Co-opolis our system eliminated the mere
material world as an object of competition, and pursuing the law of our
nature, we sought to excel in intellectual pursuits, matters of taste,
athletics and what tended to personal improvement. It was not long
before the Co-opolitan began to be known as being possessed of good
manners, taste in matters of dress and even polish. These were not
pronounced characteristics for many years after, but I sometimes thought
I could see them developing. One people from whom, in part, at least,
the incentive to acquire and own things had been largely removed, lost
in a measure the cheating, lying, cunning and overreaching habits of
that delusive and obstructing thing called business. Co-opolitans, six
years after the city was founded, habitually told one another the truth.
Sets and circles existed then, as now, in Co-opolitan society. Men and
women always will choose their own companions and some common interest
will always operate to form them into associations. If some of the
potato diggers discover that potato digging is not all there is of life
those will probably come to recognize in one another kindred spirits
whose kinship is closer than that of the uninitiated and the circle is
evolved. I was one of a circle or set and Miss Woodberry was a member of
that circle, too. There were literary gatherings, card parties, socials
and all sorts of meetings in winter, and lawn parties, dinners, dances
and all sorts of pleasures in summer. It must be admitted that our
social circle was generally regarded as somewhat select in a literary
sense, because some of the brightest minds in Co-opolis were members.
This did not exclude us from the pleasures which I have mentioned, but
it gave our circle a somewhat sombre rather than gay reputation. We were
just as popular, however, as any other set, and by no means assumed to
be better than our neighbors.
Miss Woodberry was not a member of the Industrial Army, and one of the
great questions which we often discussed was whether she should become
such. This question grew more than ever urgent when we decided that we
were sufficiently attached to each other to become husband and wife.
Attached to each other! That sounds and reads mechanical enough to
describe the gluing together of two blocks of wood, and I have no doubt
that because this is, in the main, an historical work and only
incidentally biographical, it is all the warmth I am expected to
express. I beg pardon! But this lady has been my wife now thirty years
and a better wife no mortal man ever had. Attached to her! Why! I was so
thoroughly and passionately devoted to her that I came very near
incurring the censure of my department associates and being subjected to
the operation of the Imperative Mandate on the charge of inattention to
business, but escaped, because, as I suppose, “the whole world loves a
lover,” and my attachment was not successfully concealed. Be that as it
may, after we were engaged to be married, Miss Woodberry became curious
to know what her fate would be; she had accepted me without much regard
to consequences. Now, after the acceptance, when the consequences were
close at hand, she became more solicitous to understand her position.
She had only been a visitor in Co-opolis and had been a guest of the
Prestons, whom I have already described as my near neighbors. During
this visit she had been engaged in writing a novel, which she read as
the chapters were completed to me. I was impressed with its merit and
believed some of its passages breathed the spirit of genius. However,
although I judged myself a dispassionate and unsparing critic, I would
not trust my judgment upon the production of one who was prejudiced in
her favor. I persuaded her to allow me to submit her manuscript to a
committee of my department for its criticism, with a view to arranging
for its publication under the auspices of the Co-opolitan Association.
As this committee had proven whenever it deemed a work sufficiently
meritorious to warrant it, to proceed with its publication and defray
the expenses from the so-called publication fund, it occurred to me
that, if my judgment should be approved, this novel could be published
by our department and would distinguish the admission of its author into
the Association. We had, up to that time, never undertaken the
publication of a novel, but our plant was sufficiently extensive and
commodious to enable us to do so. Hitherto we were contented to confine
our publications to text books for our schools, a monthly magazine
devoted to co-operation, the Daily Co-opolitan and a large number of
pamphlets. To my great joy the committee, composed of the very brightest
literary men in the city, including our educational chief, Mr. Edmunds,
pronounced it a production of such merit as to be worthy of publication
at the public expense. I had not disclosed to them the name of the
author and they supposed it was some member.
On the evening of the day when this decision was communicated to me I
went over to the Preston cottage to see my affianced and tell her the
result of my venture with the committee. She was delighted with the
news. It was her first novel, and to find that the committee had
received it with favor was an event which, as she often told me, gave
her more genuine pleasure than anything ever did before or has since. We
spent an hour or more that evening talking over the novel, its
characters and plot.
The name was “The West Parish.” The opening scene was laid in the West
Parish of Gloucester, Cape Ann, Essex County, Massachusetts. There were,
as everybody knows, wonderful descriptions of white sandy beaches, the
blue old ocean, ships sailing, marshes and sea birds a-wing. There were
two little boys and an old aunt. The former were orphans, the latter
infirm and impoverished, but doing her best, which was as bad as could
be, to keep the little ones alive. Their father had been a railroad
engineer, but a series of misfortunes deprived him of his savings, and
then, in one of the perils common to his dangerous employment, he was
killed and the mother soon after died.
These little ones, without means and without the sympathy of the
multitudes, who, in their desperation in the struggle for bread, forgot
or did not see them, were sent to this aunt. That poor old woman had
griefs enough of her own. Her life was well nigh worked out. She had
neither nerves nor strength. Her limbs were stiff and rheumatic. Her
eyes were dim and her aged back was bent. In her mean little cottage by
the roadside at Annisquan she had all she could do to nurse the fading
embers of her life’s fires, and she was now expected to support these
two little infants, one three and one five years of age. She was cross
to them, but she did not mean to be. She was very impatient and she did
not know it. She did not take them into her arms as a mother would, but
that never occurred to her. And yet she loved them, but the power of
expressing love had long been crushed out by poverty.
So one day these two ragged, half-fed little boys, with their
tear-bestained cheeks and great eyes, made more expressive by being set
in the pale faces pinched by want, started out from the old aunt’s house
in search of a place their mother used to tell them about which was
called Heaven, where she said their papa was. The children were
afterward found nearly starved to death lying near the roadside seven
miles from home by some charitably disposed persons, who fed them and
subsequently caused them to be placed in an orphan asylum, where they
were kept and given a meagre education suitable to their lowly financial
condition. When they were large and strong enough they were sent to the
West and placed in the charge of farmers, but were widely separated. The
author traced the development of each. Both were naturally possessed of
powerful minds. One became a money maker, the other the champion of a
new system for the development of his race. One was a great banker and
amassed millions. The other was a great co-operator and occupied a high
station in the Co-operative Commonwealth. She carried her story into the
future that she might picture conditions which had not yet obtained.
In those days it was a favorite method of illustrating economic
principles, and had been made quite fashionable by Bellamy’s famous work
called “Looking Backward.” Miss Woodberry’s novel was not so remarkable
for its plot as for the vivid contrast which it presented between the
competitive and co-operative system, and so powerfully did her pen draw
the picture that while the brother who gave his life to the one, though
not worse than most of its supporters, seemed possessed of a demon of
greed; the brother who gave his life to the other appeared to be no more
nor less than a man. This novel seemed to me then, as it does now, both
instructive and artistic and equal to any of those which my wife has
written since.
“What shall we do now?” asked Miss Woodberry. “You have obtained a
favorable criticism and the Association will publish the novel. What
advantage will it give me or you to do so?”
“I shall urge you first to make an application for membership,” I
replied. “Although you were not a citizen of Idaho nor a member of the
National Brotherhood, you will find that your accomplishments and this
novel will gain you immediate admission.”
“Yes!” exclaimed she. “But what else? Does not the Co-opolitan
Association provide for some reward for a meritorious work?”
“The Co-opolitan Association will endeavor to be just,” I replied. “In
the case of Dupont, the man who invented the Dupont motorcycle, which
has brought us a large accession of wealth, the Legislative Council has
allowed him a five years’ furlough and he is now traveling in Europe,
but draws his full pay on the Industrial Army. Dupont has decided to
take only one year now and then the rest of his time hereafter. Then
there is Dr. James, who received a furlough of three months and an
advance of $1,200.00 from his next three years’ pay, for special merit
and extraordinary services of a professional character. We have a system
of rewarding those who display special merit or who by some new
invention add to the wealth, comfort or power of the Association.
“Our Legislative Council requests each department chief to present,
every three months, the names of members most deserving of reward, and
after fully and fairly informing themselves as to the work, art or
production recommended, dispenses its rewards according to its best
judgment. At the last meeting of the Legislative Council for this
purpose ten men in my department were rewarded. One got six weeks rest,
another two months, a third one week and others various terms of
respite. This was in addition to the vacation. I am not in the habit of
selecting these ten myself. I leave that to my foreman and in doing so
avoid jealousies. I shall not recommend you, but I believe this novel
will suggest to the Legislative Council the propriety of a reward.”
This reference to her entering some department suggested the old
discussion again of whether she would apply or not. She was very much
attached to the Association and believed it would ultimately own the
entire state, but she was not sure, she said, that she ought to become
absorbed in it. We considered that we might marry and that I could
supply the house from my income and she could, if her novel was
successful from a financial point of view, do other literary work at
home and for ourselves. But she was not committed to this view, nor were
her opinions fixed. However, she finally agreed with me in the belief
that her life could be made far more useful as a member than as an
individual. We agreed that if both were employed by the Association our
united efforts would bring us twenty-four hundred dollars a year so long
as twelve hundred dollars was each member’s income. I had long before
converted all the property which I had inherited into cash of the gold
and silver kind and had turned it over to the Association with the
understanding that I would be permitted to withdraw it in amounts not
greater than $1,200.00 per annum, if I so desired. The Association paid
nothing for its use, but agreed to furnish, on the terms stated, goods,
wares, labor checks or orders instead of money, or even money, if the
proper affidavit and application for money was filed.
Aunt Lydia had also been economical in expenditures for the house, so
that my expenses for two years had only been two thousand dollars, and I
had a thousand dollars in unexpended labor-credit checks. This was also
left with the Association, undrawn, so that the Association was indebted
to me in the sum of $11,000.00. My affianced wife, as well as myself,
was anxious to visit Europe and Asia, and this fund of $11,000.00 we
calculated would enable us to do so without pinching ourselves while
abroad. It was not possible to pinch ourselves at home, because at this
time every department was accomplishing wonders in the production of
wealth.
Caroline made her application the next day. Being neither a citizen of
Idaho nor a member of the Brotherhood, she was obliged to pass an
examination as to health, opinions and wealth. The first was found to be
perfect. The second showed her to be fully acquainted with co-operative
principles and the main features of our peculiar system. Wealth she had
none. But she had what was better than wealth. She had talent. She had
education. She had some experience in teaching and was a skillful
stenographer. She was accepted and enrolled in the Educational
department. This was in June and her services were not required until
September in that department. She was, however, placed on the pay roll
and given her vacation period at once. It did not concern the department
whether her school year began or closed with a season of rest. I, too,
was entitled to a vacation of four weeks each year and it was usual for
me to take it in July or August. Ordinarily I spent it in the vicinity
of the great lakes in the northern part of the state or with parties of
excursionists in the mountains. This year I designed to visit New
England and to take with me my wife. Caroline was agreeable to this plan
and I made all arrangements accordingly.
In the latter part of June we were married and on the very same day, as
a part of the celebration, the work of putting the new novel into type
was begun. It was a joyful occasion. The wedding ceremony was performed
at my house in Co-opolis and Governor Thompson did me the honor to
officiate. It was not a public affair. Members of the Legislative
Council, Governor Thompson and the members of my departmental staff and
their wives were present at the wedding feast, which was spread at the
Co-opolitan Hotel. That evening my wife and I took a special car at
11:30 o’clock on the Co-opolis Southern Electric Railroad for Boise
City, from which place we went to Nampa, met the early morning
east-bound train on the Union Pacific and proceeded on our wedding trip.
We were absent until the middle of August and were glad enough to
return. I say we were glad to return, but this does not mean that our
trip was unpleasant. We were like people of refinement who gayly abandon
the luxurious surroundings of a beautiful Christian home and, returning
to the primitive habits of their savage ancestry, descend, for a short
season, to the novelty of camp life. However enjoyable such life may
seem for a season there comes a time, and that speedily, when the
novelty wears off, and life in the civilized world is all the more
pleasurable by comparison. So you descend into the regions of commercial
competition; the waste regions and desert lands of speculation; the
world where old men and women are left to die in poverty after a life of
usefulness; where little children, innocent of wrong, are trained daily
to sin, or are starved to death in sight of plenty. We were glad to
return to Co-opolis and take up our labors in a land where we could not
hope to acquire more of the world’s good than we could use, but where we
could be sure that we and ours would not be compelled to try subsistence
on less than we needed, and where every human being was guaranteed “the
inalienable rights of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.”