Excerpt from Henry S. Nourse’s “History of the Town of Harvard Massachusetts 1732–1893,” written in 1894.

During the epidemic of transcendentalism in New England, this town become the chosen domicile of a singular social experiment; one which, unlike former adventures of the type, was not so stimulated by proselying zeal as to create local disturbance in church and domestic circles, or to stir the village routine from its accustomed ruts; one which won no serious converts, and speedily died a natural death, intestate.

This scheme, in the conceptions of which Amos Bronson Alcott was the foremost, and the most romantic, figure, was not less than an attempt, under modern conditions and on a rugged New England hillside, to reproduce the life of Adam in Paradise. Its constitution is best set forth in the prospectus of the enthusiasts who founded this “Concordium” or “Primitive Home,” as it appeared in the Dial.

FRUITLANDS, June 10, 1843.

“We have made an arrangement with the proprietor of an estate of about 100 acres, which liberates this tract from human ownership. For picturesque beauty, both in the near and the distant landscape, the spot has few rivals.

A semicircle of undulating hills stretches from south to west, among which the Wachusett and Monadnoc are conspicuous. The vale, through which flows a tributary to the Nashua, is esteemed for its fertility and ease of cultivation, is adorned with groves of nut-trees, maples, and pines, and watered by small streams. Distant not 30 miles from the metropolis of New England, this reserve lies in a serene and sequestered dell. No public thoroughfare invades it, but it is entered by a private road. The nearest hamlet is that of Stillriver, a field’s walk of 20 minutes, and the village of Harvard is reached by circuitous and hilly roads of nearly three miles.

The present buildings being ill placed and unsightly, as well as inconvenient, are to be temporarily used, until suitable and tasteful buildings in harmony with the natural scene can be completed. An excellent site opens itself on the skirts of the nearest wood, affording a view of the lands of the estate, nearly all of which are capable of spade culture. It is intended to adorn the pastures with orchards, and to supersede ultimately the labor of the plough and cattle by the spade and the pruning knife.

Ordinary secular farming is not our object. Fruit, grain, pulse, garden plants, and herbs, flax, and other vegetable products for food, raiment, and domestic uses, receiving assiduous attention, afford at once ample manual occupation, and chaste supplies for the bodily needs. Consecrated to human freedom, the land awaits the sober culture of devout men.”

Miss Louisa M. Alcott in her satirical but not greatly exaggerated account of the “consociate Family,” published under the title of Transcendental Wild-oats, tells us that the “.......prospective Eden consisted of an old red farm-house, a dilapidated barn, many acres of meadow-land, and a grove. Ten ancient apple-trees were all the ‘chaste supply’ which the place afforded; but in the firm belief that plenteous orchards were soon to be evoked from their inner consciousness, these sanguine founders had christened their domain Fruitlands.”

If there were few applies in the orchard, there was an abundance of forbidden fruit in the by-laws of this Eden. The family were enjoined to use for food or raiment “nothing which has caused death to man or beast.”

Mr. Alcott’s daughters, whose fame is now world-wide, are remembered in Harvard as sad-faced little girls, whose appearance in the village streets at first attracted the wondering gaze of all by reason of their brown-linen, bloomer costumes. But individuals joined the family who were, in respect of dress as well as conduct, a law unto themselves.

One exalted Pythagorean is said to have spent his days in the seclusion of his room, entirely without clothing, that his spiritual growth might be hindered by no incumbrances; while by night he was wont to refresh his soul and body by wide wanderings through the fields and lanes in unconstrained communion with nature, clad in a single while robe ... he occasionally frightened belated wayfarers out of their wits by his ghost-like semblance, and was once or twice interviewed by a committee of inquisitive youth not wholly sympathetic with his transcendental aspirations.

275 Years of a Town:  In June 1732, the town of Harvard incorporated within the colony, after nearly 100 years of settlement in the area and several years of petitions, objections, and re-petitions to the legislature. To celebrate this milestone, the Press is running extracts from Henry S. Nourse’s History of the Town of Harvard Massachusetts 1732–1893.