INEXPERIENCE OF MY FRIEND.—BAD STATE OF HIS LAND.—FALL
WHEAT.—FENCING.—GRASSES.—INVITATION TO A “BEE.”—UNITED LABOUR.—CANADIAN
SPORTS.—DEGENERACY OF BEES.
Colonel B—— was an old and valued friend of my family, who had held a
lucrative situation under Government for many years. His retirement
from public life, on some disgust, had eventually led to his settlement
in Canada.
Now, his literary tastes and sedentary habits had ill-fitted him for
the rough customs of the colony. Besides having scarcely seen a grain
of corn in its progressive state from the blade to its earing and
harvest, he knew nothing of agricultural operations. Of stock he was
equally ignorant, and of the comparative goodness or badness of soil he
was, of course, no judge. Such a man, in the choice of a farm, was sure
to be shaved by the shrewd Yankee proprietor, and my poor friend was
shaved accordingly.
I found my friend’s farm had been much neglected. His out-door
labourers were all from the south of Ireland, and had never before
followed farming operations. In consequence of their inexperience, half
the clearing was quite overrun with raspberries and Canadian thistles.
(The latter weed is far more troublesome to eradicate than any other I
know. It is the same as the common corn-thistle, or _Serratula
arvensis_, so well known to English agriculturists).
As we intended to prepare a large piece of ground for summer-fallow, it
was necessary to get rid of those stumps of the trees, which, according
to the practice of chopping them two or three feet from the ground,
present a continual obstacle to the advance of the plough. We, however,
succeeded in getting clear of them by hitching a logging-chain round
the stump near the top, when a sudden jerk from the oxen was generally
sufficient to pull it up. For the larger, and those more firmly fixed
in the ground, we made use of a lever about twenty feet long, and about
eight or nine inches in diameter, one end of which was securely chained
to the stump, the oxen being fastened to the other and made to go in a
circular direction, a manoeuvre which rarely fails of the desired
effect. This plan will not answer unless the roots are sufficiently
decayed. During dry weather the application of fire produces more
effectual results. A few embers shaken from a cedar-torch on the crown
of the stump are sufficient for the purpose: some hundreds of these
blazing merrily at night have a very pretty effect.
In ten or twelve years the hard woods, such as oak, ash, beech and
maple disappear; but the stumps of the evergreens, such as pine,
hemlock and cedar, are much more difficult to eradicate.
The land being of a sandy nature, we had but few stones to contend
with. When such is the case, we raise them above the surface, by the
help of levers. By these means, stones of half a ton weight can be
easily lifted from their beds. The larger ones are generally drawn off
the fields to make the foundations of fences, and those of a smaller
size are used in the construction of French drains.
To succeed well with your summer fallow, it is necessary to have the
sod all turned over with the plough by the end of May, or sooner if
possible. Shortly afterwards the fallow should be well harrowed; in
July it should be crossed, ploughed and harrowed, and rolled at least
twice before the final ploughing or ridging up, which should be
completed by the last week in August.
Fall-wheat should be sown between the first and fifteenth day of
September.[1] The sooner the better, in my opinion, because the plant
is stronger and better able to withstand the frost, and is decidedly
less liable to rust. Our fallow having been prepared in this manner,
and sown broad-cast with fall-wheat, the next object was to fence in
the field securely, which is done in the following way. Trees of a
straight growth and straight also in the grain are selected and cut
into twelve feet lengths, and are then, by the means of a beetle and
wedges, split into rails as nearly four inches square as possible. The
rails are then laid in a zigzag direction, crossing each other about a
foot from the end, making an angle of about six feet. Seven rails in
height, crowned by a stake and rider, complete the fence. The best
timbers for making rails, are pine, cedar, oak and black and white ash:
these kinds of timbers will last about thirty years. Bass-wood is more
commonly used for the first fences, because it is to be procured in
greater abundance, and splits more easily; but as it will not last more
than ten years, I would not recommend settlers to use it, if the other
sorts can readily be obtained.
[1] “Fall” is the term usually applied to wheat sown in the autumn by
the Canadian farmer, and will be used in this sense throughout a work
especially written for the service of the inexperienced settler.
In this country, hay-cutting commences about the first or second week
in July. Timothy-grass and clover mixed or timothy alone are the best
for hay, and the most productive. The quantity of seed required for new
land is six quarts of grass-seed and two pounds of clover to the acre;
on old cleared farms nearly double this seed is required. Timothy is a
solid grass with a bulbous root. If the weather is hot and dry, the hay
should be carted the second day after cutting, for there is no danger
in carting it at once into your barn, the climate being so dry that it
never heats enough to cause spontaneous combustion. We have other sorts
of grasses, such as red-top, blue-joint, &c.: these grasses, however,
are inferior, and therefore never grown from choice.
Soon after my arrival at Darlington, one of my neighbours residing on
the lake-shore invited me to a mowing and cradling “Bee.”[2] As I had
never seen anything of the kind, I accepted the invitation. On my
arrival at the farm on the appointed day, I found assembled about forty
men and boys. A man with a pail of spring water with a wooden cup
floating on the surface in one hand, and a bottle of whiskey and glass
in the other, now approached the swarm, every one helping himself as he
pleased. This man is the most important personage at the “Bee,” and is
known by the appellation of the “Grog-bos.” On this occasion his office
was anything but a sinecure. The heat of the weather, I suppose, had
made our party very thirsty. There were thirty-five bees cutting hay,
among whom I was a rather awkward volunteer, and ten cradlers[3]
employed in cutting rye.
[2] What the Canadian settlers call a “Bee” is a neighbourly gathering
for any industrious purpose a friendly clubbing of labour, assisted by
an abundance of good cheer.
[3] The cradle is a scythe of larger dimensions than the common
hay-scythe, and is both wider in the blade and longer. A straight
piece of wood, called a standard, thirty inches long, is fixed
upright; near the end of the snaith, or handle, are four fingers made
of wood, the same bend as the scythe, and from six to seven inches
apart, directly above the scythe, and fixed firmly into the standard,
from which wire braces with nuts and screws to adjust the fingers.
These braces are secured to the fingers about eight inches from the
standard. The other end of the wire is then passed through the snaith
and drawn tight by means of a screw-nut. These machines are very
effective, and in the hands of a person who understands their use will
cut from two to three acres a-day of either wheat, oats, barley, or
rye.
At eleven o’clock, cakes and pailfuls of tea were served round. At one,
we were summoned by the sound of a tin bugle to dinner, which we found
laid out in the barn. Some long pine-boards resting on tressels served
for a table, which almost groaned with the good things of this earth,
in the shape of roast lamb and green peas, roast sucking-pig, shoulder
of mutton, apple-sauce, and pies, puddings, and preserves in abundance,
with plenty of beer and Canadian whiskey. Our bees proved so
industrious, that before six o’clock all Mr. Burke’s hay and rye were
finished cutting. Supper was then served on the same scale of
profusion, with the addition of tea. After supper a variety of games
and gymnastics were introduced, various trials of strength, wrestling,
running, jumping, putting the stone, throwing the hammer, &c.
About nine o’clock our party broke up, and returned to their respective
homes, well pleased with their day’s entertainment, leaving their host
perfectly satisfied with their voluntary labour. One word about bees
and their attendant frolic. I confess I do not like the system. I
acknowledge, that in raising a log-house or barn it is absolutely
necessary, especially in the Bush, but the general practice is bad.
Some people can do nothing without a bee, and as the work has to be
returned in the same manner, it causes a continual round of dissipation
if not of something worse. I have known several cases of manslaughter
arising out of quarrels produced by intoxication at these every-day
gatherings. As population increases, and labour becomes cheaper, of
course there will be less occasion for them.