Brook Farm: Historic and Personal Memoirs Part 16

The "a.s.sociation" 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 a.s.sociation, 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 a.s.sociation; 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 pa.s.s which I am to narrate, but the order is unimportant. Certainly there were a.s.sociation 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 f.a.n.n.y 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 t.i.tles. 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 phosph.o.r.escent 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 gra.s.s 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 redb.r.e.a.s.t.s.

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 coordinate 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!

CHAPTER XIII.

THE FIRST BREAK.

I do not know when or where it was first announced, but the announcement came like a clap of thunder from a clear sky. Some one was going to leave us! Who? Was it the "Archon" or the "Professor"?

Certainly this was not expected; but would it be strange if some of the leaders, feeling too much the pressure and the burden of the financial and executive business of the society, should grow weary, depart, and leave their places unfilled forever? Was it any one of the grumblers or the known discontented or disconcerted ones? No, it was no less than Peter, the "General"! Why, if the elm tree in the yard of the Hive had walked off in the night it would not have caused more talk or greater consternation. Could it be possible?

From that day to this I have wondered how that man could have had such a hold on our hearts. There was not a handsome feature in him. He had a large but uneven forehead. His eyes were small, grayish-blue and deepset. His nose was homely, his teeth were discolored, and he was ungainly and awkward. His best feature was his height, but he stooped in his shoulders, and his dress when about his work was of the plainest description. His baize jacket and slipshod shoes did not become him.

Ever since then I have believed in the effect of virtue and kindness.

He was a living sermon--nay, a hundred sermons to me. He was "patient, long-suffering and kind."

A spontaneous regret came from all. Some of the women, who certainly could not be accused of any amatory love for him, shed tears to think that he should go, for he was full of kindness to them. Constantly in contact with their department, he was as gentle as a child, never complaining and yet full of work. Industrious as the day was long, he seemed so like a portion of the very atmosphere of the house, and of the life, that it did not seem that he could be away and the a.s.sociation be as it was.

The _morale_ to the fact of the General's departure also disturbed our people. He was discouraged at the attempt at realization of the new order at Brook Farm. As long as all clung together there seemed to be hope; but the first break was dangerous to our well-being, dangerous to our existence.

Mr. Dwight had gone to New York to deliver lectures on music. When he went away all was enthusiasm, all was harmony. The great loss by fire had shaken no one's faith in the principles or the organization, and as yet the balance of probabilities had not been made or adjusted in men's minds. The word was then to go on at all cost. When he returned he found discussion of means, doubts and fears, uppermost everywhere. As a truth the a.s.sociation had not prospered financially. Beginning with no real capital, and mortgaged to the debts of the former "Community," it had come to a point where without more means or more money in ready cash it was very difficult to see how it could go on.

The change of social atmosphere in so short a time grated on the sensitive soul of the man of music, and it was my fortune to be present at a general meeting of all the a.s.sociation where I heard his remarks.

He began by stating, as I have done, that when he went away all was harmony and peace. All seemed united by bonds deep and strong; by a common purpose and for a common end. We were all striving for a worthy object, a higher, n.o.bler life than that which surrounded us.

He had been away from this quiet, cheerful, peaceful and just life, among the noise, dust and discord of a great, unwieldy city, and when there he had looked forward to his coming home to this devoted little band with the greatest possible pleasure. He had expected to find them as harmonious and as united as when he left. He trod the precious soil and found all external things glowing in beauty. He mounted the hill, and there came two beautiful white doves flying close to him as he walked on, circling around and around his head and seeming to rejoice in his coming. He regarded it as a symbol of the unity and peace that were with us, as well as a token of welcome.

But when he came to talk with the members, all was doubt, all was distrust. What could it mean? It filled his heart with sad forebodings!

Why could we not be as before? Why doubt? why distrust? why not push on? Certainly there would be a way opened for us! It could not be that the years of devotion to one another and to this just cause and just life could end thus! And in pleading tones born out of the depths of his heart, and living sentences to which I can do no manner of justice, he waxed eloquent, and all could not but be touched and moved with his words.

How beautiful it is in looking back to this time, when coming events were casting their sad shadows before them, to think that no one took the opposite side, and that none among all the number argued before us that we had met with a miserable failure; that no one was ready with a rude word to break the bonds of friendship and to use his eloquence to destroy our habit of life, our trust in one another, our faith in G.o.d and the eternal justice of His providence, or to hasten in any way the disruption of the inst.i.tution; and that in those trying hours the strong ties of friendship, love and daily communion were uppermost. All felt that we wished to keep on with our labor, and that Mr. Dwight only spoke the wishes of all hearts. But the inevitable mathematics of finance were against us.

The "Poet," as the young folks called Mr. Dwight, wished that we could manage it somehow, in some manner. He himself would go away. He would go where his services could command higher fees. He would give them to the a.s.sociation for the privilege only of being sometimes on the domain, and finding there others whom he loved, working still for their sublime purposes.

These well-expressed desires, though availing nothing in the way of adding money to the treasury, stimulated the hearts anew to good fellowship, and helped to keep up the activity of the place to the last. It seems a wonder to me that, in spite of all the changes that took place after this time, as one and another departed, the industry of the place was still kept in decent working order.

It was on the third of March that the fire took place, and the spring and summer were fast pa.s.sing away; the beautiful summer--beautiful ever with its fields of waving gra.s.s and its wild flowers, its sunlight and moonlight glow, its varied charms of growth and verdure; especially beautiful to us, the young, who watched one another's countenances glowing with health, innocence and pleasure; who clasped hands together and danced with nimble feet; and saw the lithe young forms grow fairer and more womanly and more manly. With the frank outpourings of friendship and confidence; with the lavishness of mutual praise in youth, we enjoyed and joined in merry badinage, in miffs and flattery.

The starry nights echoed our young voices singing in the clear air.

There was a burden of care taken from us, for was not the a.s.sociation our G.o.d-father? Had it not also taken from our parents the dread anxieties that fall to most of common lot? And while we were there we would be happy, and when the a.s.sociation broke up, if it ever did, would we not unite somewhere again?

Certainly I never heard any one of us doubt, whether young or old, gray of beard or smooth of face, that a.s.sociated life and doctrines would succeed: of this I am sure. We reasoned that if Brook Farm a.s.sociation failed, some other would not. Some new ones would be formed. The partings were all temporary; and when we parted, it was with cheerful hearts. It was like the going forth of a family in the morning to meet again in the evening; no sad farewells, no heart-breakings.

In a few years all of those engaged in this most interesting experiment will be gathered to their fathers. No one may ever write as consecutive a story of the farm life as I have done; and, with the much that is superficial in my narrative, let me add my convictions of the leading men and women in this movement. They were, in the highest sense, Christians--not technically bound to creeds, but their hearts and intellects were filled to overflowing with the good precepts that are proclaimed as the foundation, aside from technical beliefs, of the Christian doctrine; to love their neighbors as themselves; to do good to all; to seek first righteousness in life; to uphold honesty and honest dealing in _all_ earthly relations; to do unto others as we would they should do unto us; to teach honor to parents; to make all men love one another; to inspire a trust in G.o.d as a provident Father who stands ready to reconcile all conflicts, with the way open and plain for us, thus doing away with infidelity, unbelief, narrowness of mind and spirit.

The doctrine they taught above all others was the _solidarity of the race_. This was ever repeated. It was their religion that the human race was one creation, bound together by indissoluble ties, links stronger than iron and unbreakable. It was one body. It should be of one heart, one brain, one purpose. Whenever one of its members suffered all suffered. When there was a criminal all had part in his crime; when there was a debauchee, all partook in his debas.e.m.e.nt; when there was one diseased all were affected by it; when one was poor, all bore some of the sting of his poverty. If any one took shelter behind his possessions, wretchedness, poverty and disease found him out.

Ever is Lazarus at the king's gate haunting him, and he cannot avoid it. At his banquets the ghosts of the wronged appear to him.

Hollow-eyed women and children point the finger of scorn at him, and phantoms in his dreams shriek out at him, "Where is thy brother?" And he has no excuse but the cowardly question, "Am I my brother's keeper?"

His children inherit the emanations from his cowardly soul and will not rise up to call him blessed. His mind is not at ease, because the atmosphere of envy is all around him; he knows _he_ is the cause of evil thoughts, and that he holds his position by keeping comfort away from many around him, and his fine surroundings become to him as tinsel and dross. Dyspepsia, _ennui_ and weariness of spirit claim him. He is a poverty-haunted coward, ashamed that he is so; and, saddest of all, he is not a Christian. He does not believe that if he seeks the kingdom of G.o.d, which means only to do aright, all things of material beauty will be added to him, purifying, comforting, sustaining him, strengthening him, glorifying him beyond his present power to dream of.

But the Brook Farmers did. They believed that the Infinite Power ordained social laws so universal and equitable that the fulfilment of them would make all unqualifiedly happy, and that it is the mission of this race of beings to be attached to this earth, to this universe, until their happy human destiny is accomplished, which destiny must be for _all_, otherwise the Infinite would be partially and not wholly good and just.

I do not say that all men are conscious of this as I have pictured it; but the burdens are lying heavily on their souls and bodies, and they can be truly happy only when they are taken off from them. Human nature is too buoyant, too elastic, to be conscious of their pressure all of the time; but often, in every soul, is the keen perception that there must be an accounting somewhere, sometime, for all the injustice and wrong done to any one and to every one, and it brings the "dread hereafter" uncomfortably close to their daily lives.

It is too early yet to judge of the result of the work of the Brook Farm socialists. They were progressively ahead of their race. They lived before their time. They existed in the future as well as in the present and the future will be their judge; but these are my conclusions justified by actual contact, seeing these men and women under every variety of circ.u.mstances of daily life, for the full two and a half years of my actual sojourn at the Farm. The high ideal they carried as their standard lifted them over many of the littlenesses and annoyances of daily life without a disturbing thought.

I find in the _Harbinger_ of December 20, 1845, one of the very few special allusions to Brook Farm life, and it is so much to the point that I copy it entire:--

"We speak no less for the whole a.s.sociative movement in this country than for ourselves when we beseech our friends who are looking upon our operations not to judge of our principles or our purposes by any immediate results which they may have witnessed. The question is often asked of us whether our present mode of life answers our expectations--whether a.s.sociation is found to be valuable in practice as it seems to be correct in theory, and the like. But all such inquiries betray an ignorance of the actual condition of the enterprise. They suppose the organizations which have gone into effect in different parts of the country are true specimens of the plans of a.s.sociation. This is far from being the case. We do not profess to be able to present a true picture of a.s.sociative life. We cannot give the remotest idea of the advantages which the combined order possesses over the ordinary arrangements of society.

"The benefits we now actually enjoy are of another character. The life we now lead, though, to a hasty and superficial observer surrounded with so great imperfections and embarra.s.sments, is far superior to what we have been able to attain under the most favorable circ.u.mstances in civilization. There is a freedom from the frivolities of fashion, from arbitrary restrictions, and from the frenzy of compet.i.tion: we meet our fellow-men in more hearty, sincere and genial relations; kindred spirits are not separated by artificial conventional barriers; there is more personal independence and a wider sphere for its exercise; the soul is warmed in the sunshine of a true social equality; we are not brought into the rough and disgusting contact with uncongenial persons which is such a genuine source of misery in the common intercourse of society; there is a greater variety, of employment, a more constant demand for the exertion of all the faculties, and a more exquisite pleasure in effort, from the consciousness that we are not working for personal ends, but for a holy principle.