"When the people first assembled, there was not sufficient house room to accommodate them, and they were huddled together like brutes; but they built some log cabins, and then tried to establish some kind of order, by rules and regulations. One of their laws was, that all persons before becoming members must pay twenty-five dollars each. Some did pay this, but the majority had not the money to pay. I think most persons came there for a mere shift. Their poverty and their quarrelling about what they called religion (for there were many notions about which was the right way to heaven), were great drawbacks to success. Nearly all the business was carried on by barter, there was so little money. Labor was counted by the hour, and was booked to each individual. Booking was about all the pay they ever got. At the breaking up, some of the members had due to them for labor and stock, five or six hundred dollars; and some of them did not receive as many cents.
"To give an idea of the state of things, I may mention that there was a shrewd Yankee there, who established a boarding-house and pretended to accommodate boarders at very reasonable charges. He was poor, but he made many shifts to get something for his boarders to eat, though it was but very little. There was seldom any butter, cheese, or animal food upon the table, and what he called coffee was made of burnt bread. He had no bedding for the boarders; they had to provide it for themselves if they could; if not, they had to sleep on the floor. For this board he charged $1.62 per week, while it was proved that the cost per week for each individual was not more than twenty cents. This man professed to be a doctor, (though I believe he really knew no more of medicine than any other person there); and as there were so many persons sick with the ague, he got plenty of work. Previous to the breaking up, he brought in his bills to the patients (whom he had never benefited), charging them from ten to thirty dollars each, and some even higher. But the people being very poor, he did not succeed in recovering much of what he called his 'just dues;' though by threats of the law he scared some of them out of a trifle. There was another keen fellow, a preacher and lawyer, who got into office as secretary and treasurer, and kept the accounts. When there was any money he had the management of it; and I believe he knew perfectly well how to use it for his own advantage, which many of the members felt to their sorrow. The property was supposed to have been held by stockholders. Those who had the management of things know best how it was finally disposed of. For my part I think this was the most unsatisfactory experiment attempted in the West.
"J.M., member of the Trumbull Phalanx."
What a story of passion and suffering can be traced in this broken material! Study it. Think of the great hope at the beginning; the heroism of the long struggle; the bitterness of the end. This human group was made up of husbands and wives, parents and children, brothers and sisters, friends and lovers, and had two hundred hearts, longing for blessedness. Plodding on their weary march of life, Association rises before them like the mirage of the desert. They see in the vague distance, magnificent palaces, green fields, golden harvests, sparkling fountains, abundance of rest and romance; in one word, HOME—which also is HEAVEN. They rush like the thirsty caravan to realize their vision. And now the scene changes. Instead of reaching palaces, they find themselves huddled together in loose sheds—thirty-five families trying to live in dwellings built for one. They left the world to escape from want and care and temptation; and behold, these hungry wolves follow them in fiercer packs than ever. The gloom of debt is over them from the beginning. Again and again they are on the brink of bankruptcy. It is a constant question and doubt whether they will "SUCCEED," which means, whether they will barely keep soul and body together, and pacify their creditors. But they cheer one another on. "They must succeed; they will succeed; they are already succeeding!" These words they say over and over to themselves, and shout them to the public. Still debt hangs over them. They get a subsidy from outside friends. But the deficit increases. Meanwhile disease persecutes them. All through the sultry months which should have been their working time, they lie idle in their loose sheds, or where they can find a place, sweating and shivering in misery and despair. Human parasites gather about them, like vultures scenting prey from afar. Their own passions torment them. They are cursed with suspicion and the evil eye. They quarrel about religion. They quarrel about their food. They dispute about carrying out their principles. Eight or ten families desert. The rest worry on through the long years. Foes watch them with cruel exultation. Friends shout to them, "Hold on a little longer!" They hold on just as long as they can, insisting that they are successful, or are just going to be, till the last. Then comes the "break up;" and who can tell the agonies of that great corporate death!
If the reader is willing to peer into the darkest depths of this suffering, let him read again and consider well that suppressed wail of the women where they speak of the "polar snows" and the "funeral pile;" and let him think of all that is meant when the men say, "If we had known at the commencement what fiery trials were to surround us, we should have hesitated to enter on the enterprise. But now being fairly in, we will brave it through!" See how pathetically these soldiers of despair, with defeat in full view, offer themselves to other Associations, and take comfort in the assurance that God will not drive them from the earth! See how the heroes of the "forlorn hope," after defeat has come, turn again and reörganize, refusing to surrender! The end came at last, but left no record.
This is not comedy, but direst tragedy. God forbid that we should ridicule it, or think of it with any feeling but saddest sympathy. We ourselves are thoroughly acquainted with these heights and depths. These men and women seem to us like brothers and sisters. We could easily weep with them and for them, if it would do any good. But the better way is to learn what such sufferings teach, and hasten to find and show the true path, which these pilgrims missed; that so their illusions may not be repeated forever.