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Walks and talks of an American farmer in England (Part 2 of 2) cover

Walks and talks of an American farmer in England (Part 2 of 2)

Chapter 21: CHAPTER XIII.
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About This Book

A traveling narrator describes pedestrian tours through rural England, combining vivid scene-setting of villages, farms, inns, churches, and river scenery with practical agricultural discussion. Topics include orchard care, drainage, roofing and stock, and fruit and soil management, alongside portraits of local customs, market shows, angling, and small-town hospitality. Observations on social conditions—labourers’ diets and education, prisons and poor-houses—and encounters with country characters lead into reflections on policy and moral questions such as trade and punishment, producing a miscellany that mixes hands-on farming advice with social and cultural commentary.

CHAPTER XIII.

TINTERN ABBEY AND THE WYE.—ENGLISH SCREW-STEAMERS.—TIDE DELUGE.—ST. VINCENT’S ROCKS.—BRISTOL-BUILT VESSELS.—THE VALE OF GLOUCESTER.—WHITFIELD “EXAMPLE FARM.”—HEDGE-ROW TIMBER.—DRAINAGE.—BUILDINGS.—STOCK.—SOILING.—MANURE.—WHEAT.—BEETS AND TURNIPS.—DISGRACEFUL AGRICULTURE.—THE LANDED GENTRY.—WAGES OF LABOURERS.

Chepstow.

We have had a fierce storm of wind and rain to-day, notwithstanding which we have done (I am sorry to use the word) Tintern Abbey and the celebrated scenery of the Wye.

The first every body has heard of, and many have dined off it; for it is the subject of a common crockery picture. It is “a grand exhibition of Gothic ruins, admittance twenty-five cents; children, half-price.” It is indeed exceedingly beautiful and interesting, and would be most delightful to visit, if one could stumble into it alone and contemplate it in silence; but to have a vulgar, sycophantic, parrot-chattering showman locking himself in with you, fastening himself to your elbow, holding an umbrella over you, and insisting upon exactly when, where, what, and how much you shall admire, there was more poetry on the dinner-plate.

The scenery of the Wye has, at some points, much grandeur. They say there is nothing else like it in England. There is a great deal, with the same character, however, in America; and as we were familiar with scenes of even much greater sublimity, we found that we had been led to expect too much, and were rather disappointed with it.

BRISTOL BUILT.

We took passage from Chepstow to Bristol in a small iron screw-steamer. She was sharp and neatly modelled, and made very good speed—about fifteen knots. The captain said he could show his stern to any side-wheel steamer of her size in England. Near the junction of the Wye and the Severn there is a good breadth of water, and we found here a heavy swell and a reefing breeze. The little boat, with a small gaff-sail forward, “just to steady her,” threw it off one side and the other, and made her way along very handsomely and comfortably. It is my impression, that the English have got a good deal ahead of us with screw-craft.

The tide-current in these rivers is a furious deluge. The rise and fall at Chepstow is FIFTY-THREE FEET! (Daniels’ Shipmaster’s Directory.) At Bristol, I think it is even greater than this. The striking effects upon the banks, and the difficulty of navigation, may be imagined. Hence it is that Bristol ships have always been noted for strength, and so arose the term “Bristol-built,” to describe any structure well put together.

St. Vincent’s rocks, of which I had often heard sailors speak—immense banks of solid rock, that, for some miles below Bristol, the narrow, canal-like river flows between—are indeed amazingly grand. It was most impressive and belittling to one’s earthy self to meet between them a merchant ship of the largest class—the tiny boy that we looked upright to see upon her royal yard not high enough by some hundred feet to look over them. And yet so perpendicular are they, and so narrow is the stream, that they are preparing to throw an arch over between them.

Passing with too little delay through the interesting towns of Clifton and Bristol, I parted with my friends, and went on the same day into the agricultural district known as the Vale of Gloucester.

The general aspect of this district is exceedingly beautiful; undulating, like Herefordshire, with more commonly extensive flat surfaces, very large hedges, and much timber; very thickly peopled, the cottages and farm buildings old and picturesque, and the fields well stocked with cattle.

The agriculture of the district is similar to that of Cheshire, except that it is in general much behind it, neither draining nor boneing having been common improvements. The people I fell in with were usually lacking equally in courtesy and intelligence, and I learned nothing of value agriculturally, until I reached, at near nightfall, a farm conducted agreeably to the wishes of one of the landlords of the Vale, especially with the intention of giving his tenants an example of a better system of farming than they were accustomed to be content with.

THE EXAMPLE FARM.

For this purpose, an ordinary farm of 260 acres, in the midst of the estate, was, about ten years ago, put into the hands of an excellent Scotch agriculturist, Mr. Morton. His first movement was to remove the superfluous fences and the enormous quantity of hedge-row timber that the farm, like all others in the district, was encumbered with. It gives us a great idea of the amount of this, as well of the value of timber in England, to learn that what was thus obtained merely from the fences of 260 acres was sold for over $17,000! There is now very little, if any, interior fencing upon the farm. The surface-water was drawn into one channel, and the whole farm under-drained with three-feet drains. Upon the steeper slopes the drains were laid with small stones, otherwise with tile. This was the only case in which I heard of stones being used by any good farmer of late years in England for drains. Even where stone is in the way upon the surface, it is found more economical to employ tile or pipes. After thorough drainage, every acre of the farm was subsoiled, and gradually the whole was limed, at the rate of one hundred and twenty bushels an acre, and divided into ten-acre lots, without fences.

Not the least unpractical labour or expense for show has been made. The walls, gates, farm-house, stables, and outbuildings, are all of simple, and even rude construction. As far as I could judge, every arrangement and every practice upon the farm was such as would commend itself to any farmer, and might be easily followed by any one who could command the capital which a similar extent of soil would seem to need for its profitable cultivation. Almost every inch of the surface outside the buildings and the lane is tilled, there being no pasture. In the stables we found a stock of mongrel cows, mostly of Hereford and Short-horn blood, bought to be fattened. No stock is raised. Each cow was in a separate loose box. They are fed at this season with clover and trefoil, and supplied with a great profusion of straw litter. The manure is allowed to accumulate under them until it becomes inconvenient. The cows appeared to be in healthy and thriving condition; they were generally lying down and quietly ruminating with an aspect of entire satisfaction. The horse-stalls were of the form and size most common in our cities; the horses rather lighter than the ordinary English draught-horses. A steam-engine is employed for threshing, cutting turnips, &c. All the crops but wheat, I believe, are fed upon the farm, and all the straw is used as litter; of course an immense stock of manure is manufactured, and little or none needs to be bought to sustain a high fertility and large crops of every kind.

Under this system, Mr. Morton is able to grow wheat every second year; so that one-half the farm was covered with magnificent crops of this grain, likely to yield full forty bushels an acre, which would be worth at least $6000. The wheat is all drilled, and looked to me particularly clean and even. The alternate crops are carrots, mangel-wurzel, ruta-baga, potatoes, and clover. Of the latter, forty acres; of the roots, mangel-wurzel occupied the largest space. Mr. Morton told me that he had, of late, much preferred it to turnips; thought he could get thirty tons from an acre that would only yield twenty of ruta-baga, with similar expense. A few acres were devoted to vegetables and fruit for the family, and to the raising of seeds for the root-crops. I do not recollect to have seen a weed on the farm, except among the potatoes, which were being hoed by labourers, with very large hoes made for the purpose.

Of course the expense of such improvement as I have described was very great; but the proprietor considers it to have been a good investment. It is now leased by Mr. Morton and his son.

It is called the “Example Farm;” how appropriately, may be judged by the following description of an ordinary farm of the neighbourhood, by the “Times’ Commissioner:”

“An inconvenient road conducted us to the entrance-gate of a dilapidated farm-yard, one side of which was occupied by a huge barn and wagon-shed, and the other by the farm-house, dairy, and piggeries. The farm-yard was divided by a wall, and two lots of milch-cows were accommodated in the separate divisions. On one side was a temporary shed, covered with bushes and straw. Beneath this shed there was a comparatively dry lair for the stock; the yard itself was wet, dirty, and uncomfortable. The other yard was exactly the counterpart of this, except that it wanted even the shelter-shed. In these two yards are confined the dairy-stock of the farm during the winter months; they are supplied with hay in antique, square hay-racks, ingeniously capped over, to protect the hay, with a thatched roof, very much resembling the pictures of Robinson Crusoe’s hut. In each yard two of them are placed, round which the shivering animals station themselves as soon as the feeder gives them their diurnal ration, and then patiently ruminate the scanty contents. A dripping rain fell as we looked at them, from which their heads were sheltered by the thatched roof of the hay-rack, only to have it poured in a heavier stream on their necks and shoulders. In the other yard the cows had finished their provender, and showed their dissatisfaction with its meagre character by butting each other round the rack. The largest and greediest having finished her own share, immediately dislodges her neighbour, while she, in her turn, repeats the blow upon the next, and so the chase begins, the cows digging their horns into each other’s sides, and discontentedly pursuing one another through the wet and miry yard. Leaving the yard we passed into the fields, sinking at every step in the sour, wet grass-lands. Here, little heaps of dung, the exhausted relics of the hay, from which the cows derive their only support in winter, were being scattered thinly over the ground, to aid in the production of another crop of hay.”

LANDLORDS.

I have shown how much good a wealthy landlord may find it his profit to do in the way of improving agriculture. Mr. Caird intimates that for such a state of things as is exhibited in the last picture, we are also to hold the landlord accountable. Mr. Caird likewise says, “On all hands the farmer suffers: he pays rent for space occupied by his landlord’s trees; he provides harbour for his landlord’s game, which, in return, feed upon his crops; (it is for this reason many landlords will not allow the fences to be touched;) if he attempts to plough out inferior pasture, his crop becomes an additional feeding-ground for the game; whilst the small fields and crooked fences prevent all efforts at economy of labour, and compel him either to restrict his cultivation, or execute it negligently and unprofitably.”

God keep us evermore free from a “powerful conservative landed gentry,” a curse not unmixed with good though it be.

Wages of labourers were mentioned to me at 8s. Caird says 7s. and 8s., and sometimes 6s.; but it was added, significantly, that 6s. worth of work is only given in such a case.

I spent the night with the Messrs. Morton, and returned by rail to Bristol the following morning.