turnips, and afterwards to swedes, if possible by the middle of
October. I do not like soft turnips for feeding cattle. The cattle that
I intend for the great Christmas market have at first from 2 lb. to 4
lb. of cake a-day by the 1st of November. In a week or two I increase
the cake to at least 4 lb. a-day, and give a feed of bruised oats or
barley, which I continue up to the 12th or 14th of December, when they
leave for the Christmas market. The cake is apportioned to the
condition of the different animals, and some of the leanest cattle get
the double of others which are riper. The cattle being tied to the
stall places this quite in your power, while in the strawyard it could
not be done. When ten or twenty beasts in the strawyard stand together,
the strongest take the greatest share, and these are very often the
animals that least require it. I consider the stall a great advantage
over the strawyard in this respect, as you can give each beast what you
wish him to have. My men are told the quantity of cake and corn which I
wish every beast to receive. You must all have observed the inequality
in the improvement of cattle in the strawyard when ten, fifteen, or
twenty beasts are fed together. I have seen the best beast in a lot
when put up, the worst when taken out. The first three weeks after the
cattle are put upon cake along with their turnips, they will put on as
much meat as they will do with an equal quantity of cake for the next
five. It is absolutely necessary to increase the quantity of cake and
corn weekly to insure a steady improvement; and if cattle are forced
upon cake and corn over two or three months, it will, in my opinion,
pay no one. To give unlimited quantities for years, and to say it will
pay, is preposterous. To give fat cattle the finishing dip, cake and
corn, given in moderation and with skill for six weeks before the
cattle are sent to the fat market, will pay the feeder; but to continue
this for more than two months will never pay in Aberdeenshire. This is
no doubt a bold assertion, but I believe it to be correct. The cake and
corn given to cattle day by day loses its effect, till at last you
bring the beast almost to a standstill, and week after week you can
perceive little improvement. Cake, and still more corn, appear to
injure their constitution; grass, turnips, and straw or hay are their
only healthy food. For commercial cattle, and for commercial purposes,
two months is the utmost limit that cake and corn will pay the
Aberdeenshire feeder. There can be no substitute for grass, straw, and
turnips, except for a very limited period; though in times of scarcity,
and to give the last dip to fat cattle, the other feeding materials are
valuable auxiliaries.
I have kept on a favourite show bullock for a year, thinking I would
improve him, and given him everything he would take; and when that day
twelvemonth came round, he was worse than a twelvemonth before. You can
only torture nature so far; and if you force a yearling bullock, he
will never come to the size that he will attain if kept on common fare.
If you wish to bring a bullock to size for exhibition, give him as much
grass and turnips as he can eat. Begin to force only when he is two and
a half to three years old, and by the time he is four years he will not
only be a neater but a larger animal than if he had been forced
earlier: forcing in youth deteriorates the symmetry of the animal as
well as diminishes his size. I am speaking only of Aberdeen and Angus
cattle, but I believe the breeders of Highlanders are also well aware
of this fact. I am not speaking of pounds, shillings, and pence, or of
the profit to the farmer; for who would think of keeping beasts bred to
himself older than rising three years old? Calves dropped early should
go to the fat market at the age of two years.
A word as to show bullocks. I believe they are the most unprofitable
speculation an agriculturist can interfere with. To keep a show bullock
as he ought to be kept will cost from 12s. to 15s. a-week, which
amounts to about L40 a-year.
The method I adopt as to using cake and corn is the following:--On the
different farms where I feed the cattle, I put a fourth part of their
number only upon cake and corn at one time, and six weeks (which is
about my limit of time for cake and corn, &c., paying the feeder)
before they are to be sent to the fat market. When the six weeks are
expired they are sent away; another fourth part of the original number
take their place, and get their six weeks' cake. When they leave, the
other cattle in succession get the same treatment. When turnips are
plentiful the system works very well. The cattle draw beautifully, week
by week, from the different farms, and come out very ripe. I may
mention that almost all the cattle I graze are generally kept during
the previous winter upon as many turnips as they can eat, and are in
high condition when put to grass. I believe, however, that in the south
of Scotland, where there is more corn and less grass land, this method
would not be suitable. Large bills for cake are not easily paid, and
when paid swallow up our profits. When cattle are fed almost
exclusively upon the produce of the farm, the feeders know what they
are about; but this method of feeding requires time and patience, and
there is a long outlay of capital. Still, if the system is adopted and
judiciously managed, upon medium or high-lying and low-rented land, the
cattle treated as above ought to pay the rent and leave a fair profit
to the feeder. There is no doubt that in the north, and especially in
Aberdeenshire, there is a rage for fine cattle; and on my part it has
almost amounted to a "craze." I would have been a richer man to-day if
I had not been so fastidious in my selections; but I cannot endure to
look at, and never will tolerate, a bad beast on my land. The gentlemen
I buy from know my weakness, and they say, if they are anxious to sell,
We must let M'Combie have a "pull." Many are the lots of beasts I have
bought and culled, and I had to pay for it. Sellers have served me
right. Still there is a fatality follows me that I fear it is hopeless
now to endeavour to get over. A good bullock will always be a good one,
and will easily be made ripe--requiring little cake or corn--and come
right out at last.
The following is the system I have adopted in the selection of the
cattle I have wintered. I buy the best lots I can find during the
summer, fit for wintering and keeping on to the following Christmas. I
then cull the worst of the different lots, feeding the culls and
wintering the tops. By this method I secure a lot of wintering cattle
for the great Christmas market of the ensuing year, without one bad or
indifferent beast among them. The price I have obtained for several
years, with the exception of the culls of my winterers, has been L35
a-head.
In Aberdeenshire I consider that a large bullock ought to pay 25s. to
30s. a-month for keep, if he is properly treated. We often get less,
and sometimes a little more, owing in some measure to the way in which
the cattle are bought, the price of beef at the time, the season of the
year the cattle are bought, and the time they are sold. Before we were
threatened with the cattle plague I always made a point of buying my
beasts early in the season, beginning in January and buying monthly up
to May. I had thus a chance of the best lots, whereas, if I deferred
making my selections, these went into other hands.
II. REMINISCENCES.
Fifty years ago, and for many a long year thereafter, there were no
shorthorns in the north. There were few turnips grown, and few cattle
fed. The great firm of the Williamsons, who rented St John's Wells,
Bethelnie, and Easter Crichie; James Allardyce of Boyndsmill; the
Harveys of Beidlestone and Danestone, and a few others, were almost the
only parties who attempted the feeding of cattle. Mr Harvey of Ardo,
who was then tenant of Danestone, died only the other day, aged ninety.
Messrs Williamson and Reid were the great Aberdeen butchers at that
period, and the feeders had either to sell to them or send their cattle
on to Barnet Fair on their own account, or in the hands of the jobber.
The journey occupied a month, and hay was their food. The cattle stood
the road best upon hay, and it was surprising how fresh and sound the
drovers took them up. Disease was unknown; the lung disease, the
foot-and-mouth disease, are comparatively recent importations.
I was in the lean-cattle trade when foot-and-mouth disease first broke
out, and got a sad fright when I came up to Falkirk and found my drove
affected. When it got into a drove on their transit, the loss was
heavy. At that time the cattle were not made more than half fat, else
they could never have performed their journeys.
I was well acquainted with the Messrs Williamson, and, when a boy, was
the guest of the late George Williamson, St John's Wells; of the late
James Williamson, Bethelnie; and of William Williamson, Easter Crichie.
George Williamson was a great wit, and many are the anecdotes I have
heard him tell. One of these I recollect. He was passing through Perth
with a large drove of cattle, the bells were ringing a merry peal for
the peace--St John's Wells said it was a sorrowful peal to him, for it
cost him L4000. He told that the Messrs Williamson and Reid came to buy
a lot of cattle at Bethelnie, and they were not like to agree, when
Bethelnie's grieve volunteered the statement--much to the chagrin of
James Williamson, but to the delight of Messrs Williamson and
Reid--that there were turnips to put over to-morrow and no longer.
Messrs Williamson and Reid did not advance their offer under these
circumstances.
James Williamson was a smarter man in some respects than George; he had
great taste as a farmer, but lacked the wit of his brother; while
William of Easter Crichie, St John's Wells' eldest son, and a member of
the great firm, took matters more coolly than either, but was a capital
judge, and a good buyer of drove and store cattle. They have all gone
to their rest, but have left a name behind them which will not soon be
forgotten in Aberdeenshire. As a firm they were the largest
cattle-dealers in Scotland of their day. William Williamson was most
hospitable, and many were the happy evenings I have spent at Easter
Crichie. It was a great treat to hear him when he became eloquent upon
the Haycocks, the great Leicestershire graziers, and the bullock he
bought from Mr Harvey and sold to Mr Haycock that gained the prize
against all comers at Smithfield. The Williamsons were the largest
buyers in spring, not only in Aberdeenshire and the north, but in
Forfar and Fife, shires. At one time they had little opposition in the
spring trade, and old St John's Wells' advice to the members of the
firm, when they went to Forfar and Fife, was to "bid little and lie far
back." The Williamsons generally brought down from Fifeshire on their
spring visits a lot of the best Fife cows, and no doubt their blood are
in many of the Aberdeen cattle to this day. The Williamsons also bought
largely at the Falkirk Trysts. Although they had the spring trade
mostly to themselves, it must not be supposed that the summer trade was
equally in their hands. For a time, however, it was doubtful if they
would not concentrate the whole business in their own firm; as when
they had heavy stocks on hand, and prices showed a downward tendency,
they adopted the daring expedient of buying up almost all the cattle
for sale, that they might become the exclusive owners. This might have
succeeded so far, but it was a dangerous expedient, and could not
continue; and other energetic men, both in the north and south, began
to oppose them. My own father became their greatest opponent, and,
though single-handed, for years conducted as large a business in summer
as themselves.
Mr James Anderson, Pitcarry, who is still alive and tenant of Pitcarry,
was also an extensive dealer, and sent large droves to England--a man
who through life has enjoyed the respect of all classes, of great
coolness, and proverbial for his rectitude. The writer was sleeping
with him at Huntly the night of an Old Keith market; and in the morning
Mr Anderson was in the middle of a deep discussion, when his topsman
knocked at the door. On being asked what he wanted, he said he had lost
four cattle. "Go and find them," was Mr Anderson's answer, and he
immediately resumed the discussion. My father often told how Mr
Anderson and he were at a dinner at Haddington, given by the East
Lothian Farmers' Club, on the day of the cattle market, when Mr Rennie
of Phantassie was chairman, and where, after dinner, a discussion arose
about an Act of Parliament. Mr Anderson told them they were all wrong,
and that the contents of the Act were so and so. The books were brought
from the Council Chambers, when Mr Anderson was found right, and all
the East Lothian gentlemen wrong. He is a very well-informed man, and
has all the Acts of Parliament at his finger-ends. I was present at a
Hallow Fair when a cross toll-bar was erected, and many paid the toll
demanded. At last Mr Anderson came up with his drove, and having the
Act of Parliament in his pocket at the time, he broke down the toll-bar
and sent the keeper home to his honest calling.
But James Milner, Tillyriach, was perhaps the most remarkable among all
the cattle-dealers of the time. He was a very large tall man, with
tremendously big feet--a great man for dress--wore top-boots, white
neckcloth, long blue coat, with all the et-ceteras, and used
hair-powder. He was, withal, very clever, and had an immensity of
mother-wit. He rode the best horse in the country, kept greyhounds, and
galloped a horse he called the "Rattler." The rides he took with this
animal are the talk of the country to this day. The Rattler was very
fast, and would jump over anything. There was no end to the hares
Milner killed. He was tenant not only of Tillyriach, which was at that
time the property of Sir William Forbes of Craigievar, but he rented
Carnaveron and other farms in the Vale of Alford. His position was
good: he dined with the gentlemen of the neighbourhood. On one occasion
he had Sir William Forbes to dine with him at Tillyriach, and collected
all the horses, cattle, and servants from his other farms, and had them
all coming as if from the yoke when Sir William arrived. Milner wanted
allowances for several improvements from his landlord, and, among the
rest, allowance to build, and payment for, a large dwelling-house; but
he outwitted himself for once, as Sir William was afraid of the man,
and refused to give any allowance whatsoever, remarking that his wealth
in cattle and horses was so enormous that he might build himself in so
that he would never get him out. However, Milner built an additional
large dining-room at his own expense, and it being finished all but the
chimney-top, he got up one summer morning very early, ordered his men
and horses along with a mason to follow him, and went to William Laing,
one of his sub-tenants, of whom he had a host, quietly removed a new
dressed granite chimney-top which Laing had lately erected, without
being detected by the inmates, and had it placed upon his room ere ever
it was missed. There it remained for fifty years, until the houses at
Tillyriach were taken down. Milner was very fond of a lark; he was the
best possible neighbour; but if he took offence or considered himself
slighted or overlooked, he would have his revenge. There was a rather
troublesome neighbour who had offended Mr Milner, and of whom he could
not get the better, except in the following way:--He put a large drove
of cattle among his corn during the night, and was there in the morning
with his appraiser to pay the damage. The damage is never in such cases
estimated at the loss sustained by the owner, and a man may easily be
ruined in that way. Mr Milner was the Captain Barclay of the Vale of
Alford. He must have the best of everything--the best horses, the best
cattle; and at the first cattle-show in the country, at Kincardine
O'Neil, he gained the first prize for the best bull. He had the finest
horses in the country, and it was worth something to get a "lift" of
Milner's horses; and the most grievous fault his servants could commit,
was allowing any other horses in the country to take as heavy loads as
his.
Tillyfour and Tillyriach adjoin, and are now one farm.[2] My father was
in Tillyfour, and Milner in Tillyriach. The crop was all cut by the
sickle, and wonderful were the prodigies performed by some of the
shearers. When the harvest came near a conclusion, there was generally
a severe "kemp" between neighbours who would have "cliach" first. One
season Milner had fallen much behind his Tillyfour neighbours, and it
became clear that Tillyfour was to gain the victory. Milner ordered
Rattler to be saddled, and he was not long in galloping with such a
horse, and on such an emergency, over the length and breadth of the
Vale of Alford. He collected the whole country, and cut the last
standing sheaf on Tillyriach in one night. The first thing heard at
Tillyfour next morning was one volley of firearms after another, which
was continued through the day, with a relay of shooters, and in the
very teeth of my father's people. It cost Milner a great deal of
Athole-brose[3] and powder, but he did not mind trifles to gain his
point. It was the custom at that time that the party who finished
harvest first communicated the intelligence to his neighbours by the
firing of guns.
[2] For description of a day at Tillyfour, see Dixon's 'Field and
Fern,' Part North, p. 158-181.
[3] Whisky and oatmeal mixed.
Another anecdote or two of Milner, and I have done with him. As he was
dressing at the glass one morning, at an inn in the south, and in the
act of powdering his hair, and tying his white neckerchief, which he
always wore on high days and holidays, James Williamson of Bethelnie
said to him, "Ah! what a pretty man you are, James!" "Yes," said
Milner, with an oath, "if it were not for these ugly skulks of feet of
mine." He always carried large saddlebags on his horse on his journeys,
well replenished with all necessary auxiliaries for a change of dress,
as when he went north he had often to dine with the Highland
proprietors, and Milner was not the man to go otherwise than in full
dress. He took a good deal of liberty with his fellow-cattle-dealers,
who were not so exact as to their wardrobes, and carried generally in
their pocket only a spare shirt and a pair of stockings. Milner's traps
were a great additional burden on his horse. While going north he
thought proper, one morning, to fasten them on my father's horse. My
father took no notice of this at the time; but falling a little behind
before coming to the top of a high hill, he contrived to unloose the
mouths of the bags. The cattle-dealers always dismounted at the top of
a hill, and walked down, either leading or driving their horses before
them to the foot. My father dismounted, put the whip to his horse, a
very spirited animal, and down the hill he galloped. First one article
of clothing, then another, went helter-skelter along the road for a
mile, one here and one there--ruffled shirts, white neckcloths, long
coats, cashmere vests, boot-tops, pomatum boxes, cotton stockings, &c.
&c.--not two of them together. It took Milner a long time to collect
the contents of his bags; he was very sulky during the day, and his own
horse carried the saddlebags in future. On a journey in the north, his
comrades proposed that he should dress himself (and he did so to some
purpose), and call on a gentleman, a large owner of fine stock, but
whose land-steward and the cattle were some forty miles distant from
the manor-house. Mr Milner did so; was well received and hospitably
entertained; and at parting the gentleman gave him a letter to his
land-steward, with instructions as to the sale of his stock. Milner was
very quick, and he had his doubts as to these instructions; and as from
forty to fifty miles was a long journey out and returning, he became
anxious to know the contents. He returned to his friends, and
communicated his suspicions to them. One more daring than the others
proposed that the letter should be opened; a tea-kettle was got, the
water brought to the boil, the wafer put to the steam, and the letter
opened. The contents read thus:--"Be sure and sell the _old cows_,
but do not sell the bullocks upon any account." I need not say what a
rage Milner was in; calling the gentleman out was the least punishment
he might expect.
On one occasion he was in the south, where he bought cattle as well as
in the north, and had an appointment to purchase a rare lot of cattle.
James Williamson, Bethelnie, was also anxious to secure the same lot.
The two were at the same inn; and after Milner went to bed, his shoes
were turned out of his bedroom to be brushed. Williamson got hold of
them, and had them put into a pot of water and boiled for hours. He
contrived to do away with his stockings in a way I shall not mention.
When Milner rose to continue his journey, he might have got the better
of the loss of his stockings, but his shoes were a hopeless case, and
he was obliged to defer his journey. New shoes had to be made; and as
Milner's feet were so large, lasts had first to be made; and thus it
took several days to get him fitted out for the road. James Williamson,
meanwhile, bought the cattle and had his laugh at Milner, who reaped a
share of the profits. It is now about half a century since Milner died,
at a comparatively early age; but there still remains a lively
impression of his person and exploits among the older residenters of
the Vale of Alford.
James Allardyce of Boyndsmill, tenant of Cobairdy, was also a great
farmer, but of a different stamp. He was a friend of the late Duke of
Gordon, who introduced him at Court; he also always wore powder. Many
were the stories he told of his journey to London, and the great
personages he was introduced to there. He was the best chairman at a
public meeting I ever saw; and at a public sale it was a perfect treat
to hear him. He was a master of the art of pleasing, and no man could
put a company into equal good-humour. He had something to say in every
one's praise, and no one else could say it so well. He spoke the
dialect of his own county (the kingdom of Forgue) and never affected
the English language. He fed--such feeding as they got!--sixty bullocks
annually, which were always sold to one or other of the dealers, and
went to Barnet Fair. Cobairdy's winterers and their prices were an
interesting topic of conversation every spring, as the season came
round.