The Communistic Societies of the United States / From Personal Visit and Observation

by Charles Nordhoff

Any one who has felt the oppressive burden of even the highest and best-paid kinds of service will see that independence and equality are great boons, for which many a man willingly sacrifices much else.

Moreover, the security against want and misfortune, the sure provision for old age and inability, which the communal system offers—is no doubt an inducement with a great many to whom the struggle for existence appears difficult and beset by terrible chances.

I do not mean here to undervalue the higher motives which lead men and women into religious communities, and which control the leaders, and no doubt a considerable part of the membership in such communes; but not all. For even among the most spiritual societies there are, and must be, members controlled by lower motives, and looking mainly to sufficient bread and butter, a regular and healthful life, easy tasks, and equality of condition.

Finally, the communal life secures order and system—certainly at the expense of variety and amusement; but a man or woman born with what the Shakers would call a gift of order, finds, I imagine, a singular charm in the precision, method, regularity, and perfect system of a communal village. An eternal Sabbath seems to reign in a Shaker settlement, or at Economy, or Amana. There is no hurly-burly. This systematic arrangement of life, combined with the cleanliness which is a conspicuous feature in every commune which I have visited, gives a decency and dignity to humble life which in general society is too often without.

"How do you manage with the lazy people?" I asked in many places; but there are no idlers in a commune. I conclude that men are not naturally idle. Even the "winter Shakers"—the shiftless fellows who, as cold weather approaches, take refuge in Shaker and other communes, professing a desire to become members; who come at the beginning of winter, as a Shaker elder said to me, "with empty stomachs and empty trunks, and go off with both full as soon as the roses begin to bloom"—even these poor creatures succumb to the systematic and orderly rules of the place, and do their share of work without shirking, until the mild spring sun tempts them to a freer life.

The character of the leaders in a commune is of the greatest importance. It affects, in the most obvious manner, the development of the society over which they rule. The "leading character" is sure to be a man of force and ability, and he forms the habits, not only of daily life, but even of thought, of those whom he governs—just as the father forms the character of his children in a family, or would if he did not give his whole life to "business."

But origin, nationality, and previous social condition are, of course, still greater powers. Thus the German communists in the United States, who came for the most part from the peasant class in their country, retain their peculiar habits of life, which are often singular, and sometimes repulsive to an American. They enjoy doubtless more abundant food than in their old homes; but it is of the same kind, and served in the same homely style to which they were used. Their dwellings may be more substantial; but they see nothing disagreeable in two or three families occupying the same house. At Icaria I saw French sabots, or wooden shoes, standing at the doors of the houses; and at dinner the water was poured from a vessel of tin—not, I imagine, because they were too poor to afford a pitcher, but because this was the custom at home.

So, too, among the American societies there are great differences. To the outer eye one Shaker is much like another; but the New Hampshire and Kentucky Shakers are as different from each other as the general population of one state is from that of the other, both in intellectual character and habits of life; and the New York Shaker differs again from both. Climate, by the habits it compels, makes trivial but still conspicuous differences; it is not possible that the Kentucky Shaker, who hears the mocking-bird sing in his pines on every sunny day the winter through, and in whose woods the blue-jay is a constant resident, should be the same being as his brother in Maine or New Hampshire, who sees the mercury fall to twenty degrees below zero, and stores his winter's firewood in a house as big as an ordinary factory or as his own meeting-house.

I was much struck with the simplicity of the book-keeping in most of the communities, which often made it difficult for me to procure such simple statistics as I have given in previous pages. Sometimes, as at Zoar, Aurora, and Bethel, it was with great trouble that I could get even approximate figures; and this not entirely because they were unwilling to give the information, but because it was nowhere accessible in a condensed and accurate shape. "If a man owes no money—if he pays and receives cash—he needs to keep but few accounts," said a leading man at Aurora to me.

In most of the communes there is no annual or other business statement made to the members; and this plan, which at first seems to be absurdly insecure and unbusinesslike, works well in practice. Among the Shakers, the ministry, whenever they wish to, and usually once a year, overhaul the accounts of the trustees. The extensive business affairs of the Rappists have always been carried on by two leading men, without supervision, and without loss or defalcation. At Amana it is the same, as well as at Zoar, Bethel, and Aurora. The fixed rule of the communes, not to run in debt, is a wholesome check on trustees; and though defalcations have occurred in several of the Shaker communes, they remain satisfied that their plan of account-keeping is the best.