Brook Farm: Historic and Personal MemoirsCodman, John Thomas
History
Brook Farm: Historic and Personal Memoirs
Codman, John Thomas
Brook Farm Phalanx (West Roxbury, Boston, Mass.)
The house dog, Carlo, whom everybody knew, grew rapidly old when the
Association broke up. I never saw such a change. It seemed as though
regretful remembrances of former times clung to him. There was no more
the _music_ of "the sounding horn" to awaken him from his drowse, and
he passed much of his time under the woodshed. But he was not the sleek
and canny dog of yore. He grew thin and weak. Long locks of indifferent
colored brown hair grew out of his sides, and hung loosely down. His
gait was slow and feeble, and it was not pleasant to look at him.
Finally, one cold day, at least a year after the general departure, he
was missing, and I could find nothing of him. Inquiries were in vain.
It was in the following spring that his bones were found where either
he himself had dug a burrow, or the hand of charity had laid him. Good
Carlo!
Some very happy marriages sprang from the acquaintance at Brook Farm.
There, in a few weeks or months, a better knowledge could be formed, a
truer and more absolute and certain estimate of character, than by
years of fashionable flirtation. And here let me add, that the women
were always well dressed: there were no party dresses, all shine, lace
and glitter, and household wrappers all slouched, torn and drabbled.
The situation of woman was such as to stimulate her ever to neatness in
personal appearance, even if the material was but a "ninepenny" calico;
and the same may be said to a marked extent of the men.
And many others who stood shoulder to shoulder in the ranks have shared
the common lot. Scattered through the country, in city, town and
hamlet, those who survive are doing their humble duties, and filling
their stations honorably. There are those among them who have gained
wealth, and none whom I know that are in poverty. In the circles they
occupy, their influence has been felt towards a liberal judgment in all
matters pertaining to government, religion and society.
Our friend Rev. William Henry Channing spent the major portion of his
after life abroad. The war brought him back to America. He was at one
time chaplain of the House of Representatives of the United States, and
served the country at the front; but he returned to Liverpool, England,
where he preached and educated his family, passing away beloved by
members of all the prominent churches both conservative and radical.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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