Chapter VII

The colonists in Eden Vale looked upon me--the Society's plenipotentiary, who had organised our expedition to the Kenia and procured the necessary means--as their president in the full sense of the word: I might have commanded and I should have been obeyed. But, on the other hand, I acted not only in harmony with my own inclination, but also according to the evident intention of the committee, when I assumed merely the position of president of an association of men who had power to manage their own affairs. Whenever it was possible, I consulted my colleagues previous to making any arrangements, and acted in accordance with the will of the majority; and only in the most urgent cases, or when orders had to be given to persons who were absent, did I act independently. The distribution of the work to different groups was made by arrangement between all the members concerned, and the superintendents of the several branches of work were elected by their special colleagues. Though in all essential matters the views and proposals of myself and of those more particularly in my confidence were always carried out (so that if in what I have written I had, for brevity's sake, said 'I arranged,' 'I designed,' it would have been essentially correct), yet this was due entirely to the fact that my confidants were the intellectual leaders of the colony, and the others voluntarily subordinated themselves to them. Moreover, we all knew that the present was only a provisional arrangement. In the meanwhile, no one worked for himself; all that we produced belonged not to the producer, not even to the whole of the producers, but to the undertaking upon the common property of which we were, in return, all living. In a word, the Free Society which we wished to found was not yet founded--it was in process of forming; and for the time we were, in reference to it, nothing more than persons employed according to the old custom, and differed from ordinary wage-earners simply in the fact that it was left to ourselves to decide what we should keep for our own maintenance and what we should set apart as the employer's share of the gains. If any evil-intentioned colleague had compelled me to do so, I not only had the right, but was resolved, to assume the attitude of the 'plenipotentiary.' That I was able to avoid doing this contributed no little to heighten the mutual pleasure we all experienced, and very materially facilitated the transition to the ultimate form of our organisation; but this did not alter the fact that our life and work, both on the journey and at the Kenia, were carried on under the social forms of the old system.

During this period the hours of work, whether of overseer or simple workman, white or negro, at Eden Vale were alike for all--from 5 A.M. to 10 A.M. and from 4 P.M. to 6 P.M.; only in the harvest-time were one or two hours added. All work ceased on Sundays.

The order of the day was as follows: We rose about 4 A.M. and took a bath in Eden Lake, where several bathing houses had been constructed. The washing and repairing of clothes was attended to--under the superintendence of a member who was an expert in such matters--by a band of Swahili, to whom this work was allotted as their sole duty. We wore every day the clothes which had been cleansed on the previous day, and which were brought to the owner in the course of the day to be ready for him in the morning. After the toilet came the breakfast, the preparation of which, as well as of all the other meals, was also the special duty of a particular band of Swahili. In initiating them into the mysteries of French cookery my sister was of great service. This first breakfast consisted, according to individual taste, of tea, chocolate, coffee--black or _au lait_--milk, or some kind of soup; to these might be added, according to choice, butter, cheese, honey, eggs, cold meat, with some kind of bread or cake. After this first breakfast came work until 8, followed by a second breakfast, consisting of some kind of substantial hot food--omelets, fish, or roast meat--with bread, also cheese and fruits; the drinks were either the delicious spring-water of our hills, or the very refreshing and agreeable banana-wine made by the natives. Fifteen or twenty minutes were usually spent over this breakfast, and work followed until 10 A.M. Then came the long midday rest, when most of us, particularly in the hotter months, took a second bath in the lake, followed by private recreation, reading, conversation, or games. As a rule, the heat in this part of the day was great; in the hot season the thermometer frequently measured 95° Fahr. in the shade. It is true that the heat out of doors was prevented from becoming unendurable by cool breezes, which, in fine weather, blew regularly between 11 A.M. and 5 P.M. from the Kenia, and these breezes were the stronger the hotter the day; but it was most agreeable and most conducive to health to spend the midday hours under cover. At 1 P.M. the principal meal was taken, consisting of soup, a course of meat or fish with vegetables, sweet pastry, and fruit of many kinds, with banana-wine or, when our brewery had been set to work, beer. The meal over, some would sleep for half an hour, and the rest of the time would be filled up with conversation, reading, and games. When the fiercest heat was over, the two hours of afternoon work would be gone through. After this a few indulged in a third and hasty bath. At 7 P.M. a meal similar to the first breakfast was taken, out of doors if it did not rain, and in large companies. It should be stated that, with reference to the meals and to all other means of refreshment, everyone could choose what and how much he pleased. It was only in the matter of alcoholic drinks that there was any restriction, and that for easily understood reasons. Later, when everyone acted for himself, even in this matter there was perfect liberty; but so long as we were under the then existing obligations to the Society it was necessary to observe restrictions for the sake of the negroes.

The evenings were generally devoted to music. We had some very skilful musicians, an excellent orchestra of wind and string instruments numbering forty-five performers, and a fine choir; and these performed whenever the weather permitted. The air would grow cool two or three hours after sunset; on some nights the thermometer would measure over 70° Fahr., but it occasionally sank to less than 60° Fahr., so that the night-rest was always refreshing.

Sundays were given up to recreation and instruction: excursions into the adjoining woods, hunting expeditions, concerts, public lectures, addresses, &c.

The block-houses in which we dwelt were intended to serve each family as a future--though merely provisional--home. Each stood in a garden of 1,200 square yards; and with its six rooms--living-room, kitchen, and four bedrooms--covered 150 square yards. At this time each such house was occupied by four of us; to the two women and Sakemba--the latter had been visited by her parents and their family, and had induced them to put up their grass hat in Eden Vale--a separate house was of course allotted.

This last arrangement, however, did not please my sister at all. During the journey she had yielded to the necessity of being separated from me, the darling ward given into her charge by our sainted mother. Arrived at Eden Vale, she expected to resume her old rights of guardianship and domestic superintendence; but she found herself prevented from carrying out her wishes by her duty towards a second, who in the meantime had become a favourite with her--namely, Miss Fox. She could not possibly leave this young woman alone among so many men; but as little could she bring us both into the same house, though in her eyes we were mere children. What would her friends in Paris have said to that? I spent all my leisure time in the women's house, whither I was unconsciously more and more strongly attracted, not less by the young American's conversation--which was a piquant mixture of animated controversy and unaffected chatter--than by her harp-playing and her clear alto voice. But this did not satisfy sister Clara, who at last hit upon the plan of marrying us. Our common 'foolishness'--that is, our social ideas--made us, she thought, mutually suitable; and though, in her opinion, we should make a pair entirely lacking in sound domestic common sense, _she_ was there to think and act for both of us.

Having once conceived this purpose, she, as a prudent and discreet person who rightly foresaw that in this matter she could not expect implicit obedience from either Miss Fox or myself, placed us under close observation. Though she was peculiarly lacking in personal experience in matters of love, yet, by means merely of that delicate sensibility peculiar to woman, she made the startling discovery that we were already over head and ears in love with each other. At first she was so astonished at this discovery that she would not believe her own eyes. But the thing was too clear to make mistake possible. We two lovers had ourselves not the remotest suspicion of our condition; but to anyone who knew Miss Fox so well as several months of unbroken companionship with the open-hearted and ingenuous young American had enabled my sister to do, there could be no difficulty in understanding what was the matter when a young woman, who had hitherto lived only for her ideals, freedom and justice, whose idol had been humanity, but who had shown no interest in any individual man apart from the ideas to which he devoted himself, was thrown into confusion as often as she heard the footsteps of a certain man, and in her confidential intercourse with my sister, instead of talking of the grandeur of our principles, preferred to talk of the excellences of him who in Eden Vale was the leading exponent of those principles. As to my own feelings, sister Clara knew too well that hitherto woman had interested me merely on account of her position in human society not to feel as if scales had fallen from her eyes when one day, after long and devotedly watching Miss Fox as she was busying herself about something, I broke out with the words, 'Is not every movement of that girl music?'

So my sister took us each aside and told us we must marry. But she met with a check from both of us. On hearing of the proposal, Miss Ellen, though she became alternately crimson and pale, at once exclaimed that she would rather die than marry me. 'Would not those arrogant men who deny us women any sense of the ideal, any capacity for real effort, and look upon us as the slaves of our egoistic impulses--would they not triumphantly assert that my pretended enthusiasm for our social undertaking was merely passion for a man; that it was not for the sake of an idea, but for the sake of a man, that I had run off to Equatorial Africa? No--I don't love your brother--I shall never love, still less marry!' This heroic apostrophe was, however, followed by a flood of tears, which, when sister Clara wished to interpret them in my favour, were declared to be signs of emotion at the offensive suspicion. I received the proposal in a similar way. When Clara hinted to me that I was in love with Miss Fox, I laughed at her heartily, and declared that what she took to be symptoms of my passion were merely signs of psychological interest in a woman who was capable of a genuine enthusiasm for abstract ideas.

But a motherly sister who has once conceived the purpose of getting her brother--and her female friend as well--married, is not so easily driven from the field: at least, not when she has such good and manifold grounds to adhere to her intention. As she could not gain her end in a direct way, she tried a circuitous one--not a new one, but one often tried: she made us both jealous. She told each of us in confidence that she had given up her 'stupid plan,' as the other party was no longer free. As she slily added to me that she had devised her project merely to be able to come into my house with my young wife and to resume her motherly care over me, and as this was evidently the truth, I also gave credence to the invention that Ellen had left a betrothed lover in America, who was about to appear in Eden Vale. 'Only think, Ellen never made this confession until I approached her with my plan of getting her married! It is very lucky that you, my boy, care nothing for the sly little creature; it would have been a pretty business if you had set your heart upon Ellen!'

I declared myself perfectly satisfied with this turn of affairs; but at the same time I felt as if a knife had pierced my heart. Suddenly my love stood clear and distinct before my mind's eye--a glowing boundless passion, such as he only can feel whose heart has remained six-and-twenty years untouched. It seemed to me an unalterable certainty that, though I might still live and struggle, I could never more enjoy life and life's battles! But was my fate so certain and inevitable? Was it not possible to drive from the field this lover who had exposed his betrothed to all the dangers of an adventurous journey, to all the temptations of her unprotected condition, and who was now about to appear and snatch the bliss from my Eden? Was it at all conceivable that Ellen--this Ellen--such as I had known her for months, would love such a wretched fellow? Away to her, to learn the truth at any price!

I rushed over to the neighbouring house. There in the meantime my sister had been telling a similar tale to Ellen. She had, she said to Ellen, conceived the idea of making us man and wife; and therefore, in the hope that my wooing would overcome her (Ellen's) resistance, she had also told me of her plan; and when I hesitated she had urged it more strongly, until at last I had confessed that, unknown to her, I had become betrothed in Europe. The bride would reach Eden Vale with the next party that arrived.... Clara had got so far when my appearance interrupted the story.

Deadly pale, Ellen turned towards me. She tried to speak, but her voice failed her. My half-sad, half-angry inquiry after the American betrothed first gave her speech. In a moment she found the key to the situation--that I loved her, and that my sister had deceived us both. What followed can be easily imagined. Thus it came to pass that Ellen was my betrothed when Dr. Strahl arrived at Eden Vale; and this is the third incident which I was about to narrate above.

Whether the joy with which I for the first time pressed to my heart the woman of my love was greater than that with which I welcomed the friend of my soul, the idol of my intellect, to the earthly paradise to which he had shown us the way--this I cannot venture to decide.

When, in the eyes of my revered friend, as he looked upon our new home and the strongly pulsing joyous life that already filled it, I saw tears of joy, and in those tears a sure guarantee of immediate success, I was not seized with such an extravagant delight--almost more than the breast which felt it for the first time could bear--as I felt a few days before when my beloved revealed to me the secret of her heart. But when my hair shall have grown white and my back shall be bent with years, and the recollection of those lover's kisses may no longer drive my blood so feverishly through my veins as to-day, yet the thought of the hour in which, hand in hand with my friend, I experienced the proud pure joy of having accomplished the first and most difficult step towards the redemption of our suffering disinherited brethren out of the tortures of many thousands of years of bondage--the thought of that hour will never lose its bliss-inspiring power as long as I am among the living.

Long, long stood the master on the heights above Eden Vale, eagerly taking in every detail of the charming picture. Then, turning to us standing around him he asked if we had given a name to the country that stretched out before us on all sides, and which was to be our home. When I said that we had not, and added that to him, who had given words to the idea that had led us hither, also belonged the office of finding a word for the country in which that idea was to be realised, he cried out: 'Freedom will find its birthplace in this country; FREELAND we will name it.'

_BOOK II_