SUMMING UP AND REVERIES.
Brook Farm was in an exceptionally good position when the associative
movement broke out, like a fever, all over the country. It was no new
organization. It had started two or three years before the rest. It had
fixed itself in the minds of the thinking part of the community as a
gathering of able, upright, conscientious men and women. There were no
slurs on their moral characters. There were no vices at which to point
the finger of scorn. They were not driven or urged forward by poverty
to take the position they did, and the "Community" or Association, had
sprung up so silently and in such a natural manner, that it seemed a
vital outgrowth from the tree of society. Notices appeared in various
prints pleasantly alluding to it.
It was a curious and unique life. It deserved to be kindly noticed, and
not until after the "Fourierite" doctrines were preached and accepted
did there appear anything in the journals of a defamatory character
relating to it. Truth compels me to say that Brook Farm and its
Associates were singularly free from the rude comments and public
assaults that reformers of all kinds are apt to receive. But while
Brook Farm was thus free, it had to bear its share in the general
assaults upon the doctrines of associative life and "Fourierism" that
were made elsewhere.
Mr. Greeley, in the _Tribune_, had gone into the work manfully,
striking heavy blows for the organization of labor; announcing himself
as an advocate of the doctrines of Associated Industry, with the
freedom of manner and boldness of pen and purpose for which he was
noted. The _Tribune_ was the leading journal of the country as well as
of the Whig party, and the associative idea came into immediate
prominence. Mr. Greeley was a man who was not ruled by any party. He
had too much of genuine independence to allow himself to follow strict
party lines. He was ambitious. He had political enemies ready to strike
him in any way that they could to reduce his political power, who did
not dare to attack him or his party openly, and they went about seeking
flaws in his honest coat of mail, into which they could thrust their
lances, caring not how envenomed they were if they could but wound him,
thinking by this means to reduce his hold on his party and the public.
I am satisfied that this was the reason of the commencement of the
principal attacks on the associative doctrines; but having commenced
them, many may finally have believed they were doing justice to society
by continuing in their unjust course. The principal ground of attack
was that the "Fourierites" were "disorganizers," that they were
unsettling the foundations of society and that they wished to make
their Associations entering wedges to disrupt the marriage relation and
produce promiscuity and general anarchy. Their opponents even went so
far as to call the leaders infidels, and made other outrageous and
absurd charges against them. The New York _Express_ was early in the
field. The _Courier and Enquirer_ and the Buffalo _Advertiser_ soon
made themselves conspicuous, and finally the New York _Observer_, "a
religious newspaper of the Calvinistic school, of large circulation and
great influence, actuated in the present case, as must be hoped, by
other motives than those that envenomed its associates," says a writer
in the _Harbinger_, "added its ability and its power to crush the
social reformers."
These attacks, long continued, created great distrust and produced
strong suspicions in the public mind derogatory to the morality of the
movement.
The Associationists on their part denied that they were Fourierists, or
that they had advocated or proposed any change in the marriage
relation; they were united for the organization of industry, and had
nothing to do or propose in relation to the marriage system. This
denial was not enough for their opponents. They declared that the
doctrines of Association led to certain results, and in proof of it
cited Fourier's speculations on the subject, which had about as much to
do with the social objects of the Associationists as his cosmogony, his
speculations about the Arabian deserts, or his ocean of "lemonade" that
had amused so many. In the study of human nature, Fourier believed he
discovered inherently inconstant natures, exceptional men and women,
who cannot be constant to one idea, one hope or one love; and believing
that this inconstancy was a normal trait of character with some
persons, who are the exceptions to the general rule, simply and
honestly acknowledged the fact, and speculated on the result and the
position such persons would have in the future ideal societies.
Fourier said, "The man has no claim as discoverer, or to the confidence
of the world, who advocates such absurdities as community of property,
absence of divine worship and rash abolition of marriage."
The Associationists of America made no proposal of any change in the
marriage relation. They had no occasion to do so. They considered it
one of the best and purest arrangements of present society, and that if
there were in that relation oftentimes grave mistakes and errors, there
were other greater and more glaring evils and universal wrongs to set
right.
"Accordingly our position is that the existing institution is to be
maintained in its greatest possible dignity and purity. We believe that
with the establishment of _truth_ and _justice_ in the practical
affairs of society; with the guarantee of pecuniary independence to all
persons, the most fatal temptations to debase and profane this relation
will be removed.... But to purer and nobler generations more upright,
honorable and generous, we leave all legislation on this subject. It is
for us to maintain the institution inviolable."
The above quoted words are taken from a statement made by all the
officers of the "American Union of Associationists," for at this time
an outside movement of that name had commenced, whose object was to
propagate doctrines, and stimulate the various organizations that were
forming, to actualize the new social order in various parts of the
country.
At a convention in Boston, held May 27,1846, where the American Union
of Associationists was formed, this resolution was passed:--"Resolved,
That we hold it our duty, as seekers of the practical unity of the
race, to accept every light afforded by the providential men whom God
has raised up, without committing ourselves blindly to the guidance of
any _one_, or speaking or acting in the name of any man; that we
recognize the invaluable worth of the discoveries of Charles Fourier in
the science of society, the harmony of that science with all the vital
truths of Christianity, and the promise it holds out of a material
condition of life wherein alone the spirit of Christ can dwell in all
its fulness; but _Fourierists_ we are not and cannot consent to be
called, because Fourier is only _one_ among the great teachers of
mankind; because many of his assertions are concerning spheres of
thought which exceed our present ability to test, and of which it would
be presumption for us to affirm with confidence; and because we regard
this as a holy and providential movement, independent of every merely
_individual_ influence or guidance, the sure and gradual evolving of
man's great unitary destiny in the ages."
After the excitement of the fire and after the enthusiastic meeting for
the holy cause, the voice of reason, pure and cold, went forth in
whispers over the face of Brook Farm. Inquiries began to be made about
prospects. It was considered a great piece of good fortune to have been
enabled to commence the first "Phalanstery." Would any one invest in a
second one, and was there prospect enough for the success of the
industry on the place to secure a livelihood? If not, what must be
done? These were important questions. Retrenchment had gone far. The
table was too poor to attract visitors; too poor, some thought, for
health, but I observed that all kept well.
I am not sure in my details of all the industry on the place just at
this time, but I believe that Britannia ware was made by one or two
workmen, principally oil hand lamps and teapots; but sales were
limited, the market being dull or glutted, and the Brook Farmers had
not the capital to manufacture and keep on hand a supply of goods for
better times.
Some six to ten were engaged in making shoes and pots. There goods were
sold at fair profit, though it was not a particularly remunerative
business, and sometimes the group was not full of orders.
There was also the "sash and blind" business, which included the making
of doors. I believe that this business could have been made profitable,
but here again the inevitable want was capital. In order to make these
articles of good quality, it is of the first importance that all stock
in them shall be well seasoned, for if it is not, changes of
temperature will produce shrinkage and warping. The wood should be
either kiln-dried--a novelty then--or dried by long keeping in sheds,
and it was important to buy largely when there was a good source, and
store for future use. These things the Brook Farmers could not do, and
consequently some of the doors and sashes shrank, much to the disgust
of everybody.
The _Harbinger_ was the principal work done in the printing line as no
outside business, such as job or book work, was secured. I have not
found out whether the _Harbinger_ paid its expenses or not, but it was
considered that it aided Brook Farm by advertising the work in its
columns. Certainly there was not much profit in it, for it is well
known that the expense of issuing a few copies of a publication is
nearly as large as when the number is doubled.
And the farming! Was it paying? A little, of course. Great labor and
devotion are needed on a farm at special seasons: I am of the opinion
it was a mistaken idea that no day's labor should consist of more than
ten hours. Our kind-hearted leader, who had not known the necessity for
great personal, physical toil, long-continued, in order to produce
special results, frowned on long hours, and did not lend his magnetism
to induce persons to toil out of regular time, except possibly in the
haying field; and therefore the days were clipped to stated hours, when
it would have been better to have extended them occasionally beyond the
regular time.
A large crop was hay. Near the main farm was a lot of some fifteen
acres of grass land that was a part of the original purchase, but
entirely independent of contact, and at some distance towards West
Roxbury village. It was called the "Keith Lot" and was the best hay
field. All the meadows grew heavy crops of grass; it was not all
"herd's grass," but consisted of a variety of species, and went under
the name of "meadow hay," which was considered second in quality.
There were the mistakes of beginners made. Some crops were lost that
might have been saved and made profitable. Of apples there were not
many. The farm could not supply the Association's wants, and we had at
times to buy both fruits and vegetables. Besides the cows a few swine
were kept. Occasionally a "beef critter" would be killed for home use,
either by our stout neighbor with a fruitful name (Orange), or by our
little Englishman.
Our practical neighbor's advice and assistance were of use to us. His
occupation was especially farming, but he had a "slant" towards killing
animals, really liking the business. He could do the butchering of a
hog with the best of grace, and had killed, first and last, so many,
that I imagine he could tell the number of squeals, or wrigglings of
the porcine tail it took to terminate the life of the animal, after he
had given it the _coup de grace_. Once, when remonstrated with by a
lady for his cruel position towards the race of swine, the
"professional" love of his occupation arose above all other
considerations.
"Where do you expect to go when you die," said she to him, "if you are
so cruel to animals?"
"Well, I don't know," he replied, "but I hope I shall go where there
are _plenty of hogs!_"
In the progress of the institution much work was done to increase the
amount of grass land and tillage, and where the meadows bordered on the
bush and stubble, the bush scythe was freely used. Muck was dug and
spread in quantities. Mr. Ripley rather prided himself on the knowledge
of the composition and improvement of soils, and when the experiment
ceased, the farm had improved in amount of tillable surface and
capacity of production. This progress was, much of it, to the
Association's cost, and added but little to the immediate income.
I have alluded to the tree-nursery. There were thousands of young trees
bought and transplanted for a nursery, and seedlings raised that had to
be budded or grafted, and this was faithfully and carefully done by an
experienced man, assisted by the Professor and other native talent, and
the grounds kept continually in order. There was no immediate return
for this outlay, which needed a year or two more of growth and
investment, to bring back the first cost and make a profit from the
business.
Let me here call attention to the nature of the various occupations
started. They contained in general, I am satisfied, as good chances for
profitable return as most occupations, and with time, and a market not
overstocked, would finally have paid well. Once only were we caught
with the _ignis fatuus_ of genius, a washing machine--patented, of
course--that came to an untimely end with a few gasps.
The greenhouse business was an outgo from first to last. It was a
business in prospective. It took two persons from other and more
productive labor, and quantities of fuel were consumed through the long
winter days and nights with a very meagre return. It had its bright
side--it was attractive--and if persevered in would have paid in the
end. The garden was still more of an outgo than the greenhouse. The
soil was very poor, and the manure for high culture was not
forthcoming, for it was all needed on the farm.
The large number of visitors did at times return more than the cash
outlay, but in reckoning the incomes of the Association this must be
left out, or set down as uncertain. Some boarders were almost always on
the place; either interested parties, or members' friends, but this
income also was slight, as the table was meagre and the price in
proportion. What, then, was there beside these occupations to support
and increase the organization? Three things: Income from new members
who came with property; income from regular investors, who took stock
in the Association, and income from the school.
There was a prospective income from persons who were expected to come
and try the new mode of life. There were those who had been promised an
opportunity to join us. They were selected from a mass of applicants,
and one object in the selection was to secure persons of good standing
and means. Such persons represented a desirable class. But now the
"Phalanstery" was burned that hope was destroyed, for all the available
rooms were occupied with those living on the domain; and if there was
to be no progress in material things, who would wish to invest in stock
that had not paid a cent and in which there was but a slight chance of
profitable return--nay, more, which stood ten chances to one of being
entirely lost? Of course no one unless he had money to give away. The
persuasive eloquence of the gifted leaders could not secure investors
for the reasons I have given, and for other reasons of which I shall
speak.
The "Associationists" were not united. The centre of the movement was
at New York, and from there great stories of the advancement of the
North American Phalanx at Red Bank, New Jersey, went forth. It was
Greeley's pet. It was the favorite at the centre and mostly with the
_doctrinaires_. It was an excellent domain, with water power, splendid
fruit-growing land, sufficiently near New York market for an undoubted
sale of all its products. Greeley admired the talent and the social
life at Brook Farm, but he thought that the leaders engaged at the
North American Phalanx had a more practical turn, and their soil was
wonderfully better fitted for farming, which always seems to be the
hobby of reformers. It was near to him; he could visit it often, and he
invested money in it.
It was intimated that the Brook Farm experiment had better stop, and
that all the material that was good should be transferred to the North
American. But it is easily seen that this was impossible, and that the
experiment must go on. The leaders and members had pledged themselves
too faithfully to carry out the Association's ideas, and none among
them would be bold enough to announce such a project. It would seem
like selling out to another organization. Who would dare to propose to
break into the charmed circle by such discordant words? And so it went
on.
Much talent was used in the school. As the Association took to itself a
variety of industries; as it added shoemakers, carpenters and farmers
to its original stock of intellectual workers, a change took place in
the selectness of its society. Although the members were chosen by the
organization, yet "practical" farmers, and "practical" shoemakers, with
their wives and children, are not supposed to have the easy grace of
manners, the elegant language and the fluency and charm of cultivated
and scholarly men and women. The little, scarcely organized Community
had increased into a goodly number, so that its dining room was like a
small hotel; and it was no longer held by the "Transcendentalists," but
had become a portion of a large and increasing body of men who followed
the wild ideas of a Frenchman named Fourier, and called itself the
Brook Farm Phalanx.
And who was this Fourier? It was just at this time; it was just as this
question was asked by anxious mothers, that the slanders of the New
York Press, copied into other papers, far and wide, worked mischief to
the Brook Farm School. I never knew a pupil who was not pleased and
delighted with the school; but the mother who sends a child away from
home to an educational institution, especially if the child is a girl,
will send it where there are no intimations connected with it of the
character of those brought so prominently forward by the New York
newspapers. It matters not so much to her that she believes the stories
are slanders; her duty seems plain to take no risks.
The "Association" or "Phalanx" now overlapped the school, and it could
no longer have the prominence as an industry that it did at first. The
school, from being so intimately connected with the Association, began
to lose caste. Although conducted with as much talent as ever, and with
as much devotion on the part of its teachers, from the fact of the
unfortunate odium cast on it, and its peculiar surroundings, was
declining, and the high talent, the culture and the knowledge of its
teachers, could not retain it in its proud position.
Thus I have gathered together, as in a bouquet, the sources of all the
income of the once famous "Brook Farm." How slight they were!
It has often been stated that Brook Farm was a well chosen location for
the experiment made there. It was nine miles from Boston. There were no
surrounding industries. There was no water power at hand, the little
brook being too small for any purpose but ornament. There was no
available railroad station--the nearest was four miles away. This
necessitated the teaming of lumber, fertilizers, coal, family stores
and all stock for manufacturing purposes, from Boston, as it was not
practical to send part way by rail and transfer it to teams. A portion
of the time we were obliged to go to the city by the way of West
Roxbury Village, as the nearest way--over the hills--was blocked by
snow during our long New England winters, and this increased the
distance. One or two teams, with men, were ever on the road. This was
expensive and tedious.
After the manufacturing stock had been teamed thus far into the
country, it was carted back in the shape of goods over the same road. I
must praise the men who were engaged in this business, for they were
not only teamsters, but errand boys--expressmen we would call them
now--as well as purchasers of provender and general commercial agents
of the Association; and their combined tasks were hard and difficult.
Busy, driving Glover Drew and Buckley Hastings filled this office
faithfully and long.
For the original purpose of an industrial school the farm was
attractive, but for an experiment such as was foreshadowed by the name
Phalanx, the place was not at all fitted, and the good sense of Mr.
Greeley saw that the domain of the North American Phalanx was vastly
superior.
In this connection I am reminded that there was but little machinery
invented and employed on farms at the date of my narrative; and
although our agriculturists, in spite of the stale jokes that have been
fathered on them, were in the advance in this department as in others,
it was only in the third or fourth year of their occupancy of the farm
that they deemed it wise or prudent to purchase a horse rake, and I
recall no other modern implement used, unless it was a seed drill,
taken on trial. It was the same in the domestic department; there was
not even a dish washer or a clothes wringer, and the most extensive and
valuable aid in the laundry was a pounding barrel in which the soiled
clothes were placed and put under discipline.
There was enough reason and brave common sense among the people to
ponder on the condition of things as I have presented them to you. The
outlook was not encouraging. I cannot remember the order in which some
of the events came to pass which I am to narrate, but the order is
unimportant. Certainly there were Association meetings in which
prospects were talked over and counsel was demanded and taken from one
and another. Unfortunately for this story I was not at them. Doubtless
I was in the quiet of the Eyry, dreaming daylight dreams, musing and
listening to Fanny Dwight's deft piano playing, while she was filling
me with the mysteries of Schubert and Mendelssohn and Beethoven, or
else wandering about the farm, with no special aim but to find rest and
enjoyment in my leisure hours. These meetings were serious, grave and
often protracted. There were some who thought matters could be better
managed. This is not strange, for it is always so. There were those who
thought that some, particularly among the earlier members, though not
absolutely non-producers, should be turned off or made more productive;
but this was difficult to do. Expansion was the only true policy, and
the fates seemed to be against it. Outside of the meetings and in daily
life all seemed to be in harmony.
I had now lived more than two years at the farm. I, the pale city lad,
had grown brown under the sun's warm kisses. I fancy I was not rosy,
but the bright eyes and the clear complexion, free from speck or
blemish, gave the certain indications of health. I had tasted of the
actual farm work. I had planted beans, potatoes and melons. I had hoed
corn, and on my knees weeded, in the broiling sun, the young onions. I
had driven horse to plough, and side by side with others, trying to hoe
my row with them, disputed, discussed social questions and ideas, and
chaffed one another on our personal gifts and peculiarities while
working together in the different groups. I had not hewed wood, but I
had chopped brush. I had yoked and driven the oxen, and the first time
had a difficulty with them because I tried to yoke the off ox on the
nigh side; and when I graduated into the greenhouse group I learned all
the mysteries of the care of plants, potting, transplanting, making
leaf-mould and doing spade and rake work to perfection; and in the
laying out of beds and walks did a full share of shovel-work on the
sandy and gravelly soil, and drove the dump-cart.
Oh, the independence of it! To be able to do everything, and with love
of it, knowing no high or low of work--all of it honor, and no shame in
any of it! It is the surroundings that develop the manhood. Was I
working for myself? Was I working for any other man or person? No, it
was for all of us that I did it. Did I and we not have the example of
great minds and greater hearts? We did. One day whilst the shop was
erecting, our mason, who was on the roof building the chimney, was
waiting for his helper, who had not returned from his dinner or had
been called away; and as he wanted bricks very much, I carried some
hodsful up the ladder to him in the genuine Emeraldic fashion.
(Arise not from shades profound, to frown on me, Abraham, thou honest
"_Rail Splitter_!" Arise not, warlike, Ulysses, thou "_Tanner_." Hide
thyself away! Shake not thy cottony locks at me, thou pale-faced
"_Bobbin Boy_!" Be not too jealous of your unique titles. I shall never
aspire to so glorious a one as "_Hod Carrier_." I have not earned it. I
did it but once, and shall never do it again! Rest easy!)
And now, at eventide, whilst the Solons of the little commonwealth were
making laws, solving problems and building defences against the common
enemy--the wolf of penury and hunger--I was sitting on the steps or on
the low window-sills at the Eyry, meditating and thinking ever of the
beautiful things with which I was surrounded; thinking of the glowworms
I found in the path to Cow Island, their wonderful beauty, and how like
illuminated pearls were their tiny lamps, and when I touched them how
they rolled themselves into a coil that resembled the pin of pearls my
mother wore on her bosom, only they were more beautiful; thinking that
their lights translated into words were even more beautiful than their
phosphorescent hues, for they said, "Come to me, my love!"
I was thinking of the bobolinks that twittered and sung, and seemed to
tumble upward as well as downward in the air over the waving grass on
the meadow; or I heard behind in the dim oak woods the whip-lash sound
of the notes of the whippoorwill, repeated a hundred times on the air,
while the round face of the moon looked down and made the shadows of
the trees and the forest grow deeper and darker. Now and then I heard,
when all was still, from his nesting-place, the brave yet delicate
notes of the song sparrow, singing in his dreams from out a happy,
overflowing heart. Dear little fluff of feathers!
I was thinking of the brood of young partridges I scared in the woods,
and how like a flash, mysteriously and totally, they disappeared in the
underbrush. I was thinking of the tiny newts and wonderful creatures I
found in the shallow water in the meadow ditch. I was thinking that if
the saracenas were in bloom I would go to find some of them on the
morrow; or if the brilliant cardinals were, I would hunt for them at
the brookside; or if there were any yellow violets to be had I wanted
to find them, as I had found many varieties.
Then I turned my head and listened more earnestly to the music or to
the conversation in the parlor, of inspired men and women, talking in
low, conversational tones, with now and then a spice of wit, on art,
religion, science or the lives of great painters, musicians, artists
and reformers. Or I was looking to see if the "Northern Cross" had
appeared among the constellations above the horizon. Or maybe I heard
George W. Curtis, who had come to visit his old teachers, singing the
"Erl King" or "Good-night to Julia" or plaintive "Kathleen Mavourneen"
in his inimitable way. Perhaps I was deep in social science or
restudyiug some of Fourier's pleasant fancies, such as the rivalries of
groups of nice children with his little hordes of brats and
"rushers"--to use a modern word--and how in nature's scheme their
different talents so balanced one another as to make complete harmony.
I was thinking of the big boulders that join and make a hole we called
"the cave," over which Hawthorne's fancy made the apostle Eliot preach
to the Indians, giving it the name of "Eliot's Pulpit," and describing
it afterward so prettily in his "Blithedale Romance"; a book of which
Emerson speaks, and truly, as "that disagreeable story," and of some of
the sketches in it as "quite unworthy of his genius." And I was
thinking of the retired little dell in the far "Wisconsin Lot," where
doubtless he and others have taken their volumes and note-books,
writing and reading to the music of the hum of the bees, the sighing
pines and the redbreasts.
I was thinking of the unfortunate humanity who lived outside of our
charmed circle, and how little they knew of the magnificent future the
infinite Father has prepared for them and their descendants, and how
from the beginning the plan has been coördinate with man's help to his
brother man and his sister woman; and my whole soul was penetrated,
even as it is now, with pity for the blindness, mental and physical,
that cannot see how to use the gifts the Infinite holds out, patiently
waiting for us to take from his indulgent hands. I was thinking how
much, how very much, of all our suffering comes from human ignorance
only.
I heard all the songs of nature beside the birds. In the spring I heard
the toads and frogs and turtles making merriment in their little
sitting-rooms in the pools of water in low places. In the summer I
heard the locusts sing and the lazy croak of bullfrog, bearing the
relation of trombone in the orchestra of nature to the other musicians,
whilst the fireflies were dancing in mid-air all around him--he winking
at them with those wondrous projecting eyes. In the autumn the cricket
was my favorite, and he was kind enough at times to come into our
musical parlor to rival Mary and Jennie and Helen. But in the winter it
was only the kindly birds that came to us--sweet chickadee and the
talkative crows. None of us injured the birds. I do not remember ever
seeing a gun on the place. Thus went the seasons--spring, summer,
autumn, winter.
I loved the daily round of life. All were kind to me. I was well
mentally and physically. I was in the bud of youth. I was like the pink
rhodoras in spring, callow of leaf or fruit but brightly covered with
promising blossoms. There remained one thing for me--to know I was
happy. Did I know it? Yes, I did. I realized it then as now. I was not
a victim of unconscious joy, to awaken to it at some future period. It
was not to me a dream. The cup was full! I was truly happy!