Nor is cost the only discouragement. There is not half so much nor so

thorough plowing among us, especially in the Fall; as there should be.

The soil is, for a good part of the time, too dry or too wet; the

weather is inclement, or the ground is frozen: so the plow must stand

still. At length, the signs are auspicious; the ground is in just the

right condition; and we would gladly plow ten, twenty, fifty acres

during the brief period wherein it remains so; but this is impossible.

Others want to improve the opportunity as well as we; extra teams are

rarely to be had at any price; and our own slow-moving oxen refuse to be

hurried. Standing half a mile off, you can see them move; if your

eye-sight is keen, and you have some stationary object interposed

whereby to take an observation; but it is as much as ever. If your soil

is such that you can use horses, you get on, of course, much faster; but

all that you gain in breadth you are apt to lose in depth. There may be

spans that will take the plow right along though you sink it to the

beam; but they are sure to be slow travelers. I never knew a span that

would plow an acre per day as I think it should be plowed; though, if

your only object be to get over as much ground as possible, you may

afflict and titillate two acres, or as much more as you please.

Now, I have before me a letter to _The Times_ (London) by Mr. William

Smith, of Woolston, Bucks, who states that he has just harvested his

fifteenth annual crop cultivated by steam-power, and has prepared his

land for the sixteenth; and he gives details, showing that he breaks up

and ridges heavy clay soils at the rate of six acres per day, and plows

lands already in tillage at the rate of fully nine acres per day. He

gives the total cost, (including wear and tear,) of breaking up a foot

deep and ridging 65 acres in September and October in this year, 1870,

at L20 _6s. 6d._ or about $100 in gold: call it $112 in our greenbacks,

and still it falls considerably below $2 (greenbacks) per acre. Say that

labor and fuel are twice as dear in this country as in England, and this

would make the cost of thoroughly pulverizing by steam-power a heavy

clay soil to a depth of twelve inches less than $4 per acre here. I do

not believe this could be done by animal power at $10 per acre, not

considering the difficulty of getting it thoroughly done at all. Mr.

Smith pertinently says: "Horse-power could not give at any cost such

valuable work as this steam-power ridging and subsoiling is." He tills

166 acres in all, making the cost of steam-plowing his stubble-land _4s.

8-1/2d._ per acre (say $1.30 greenback). And he gives this interesting

item:

"No. 5, light land, 12 acres, was ridge-plowed and subsoiled last year

for beans: that operation left the land, after the bean-crop came off,

in so nice a state, that cultivating once over with horses, at a cost of

_2s._ per acre, was all that was needed this Autumn for wheat next year.

The wheat was drilled four days back."

--Now I am not commending Steam as the best source of power in aid of

Agriculture. I hope we shall be able to do better ere long. I recognize

the enormous waste involved in the movement of an engine, boiler, etc.,

weighing several tons, back and forth across our fields, and apprehend

that it must be difficult to avoid a compression of the soil therefrom.

A stationary engine and boiler at either end of the field, hauling a

gang of plows this way and that by means of ropes and pulleys, must

involve a very heavy outlay for machinery and a considerable cost in its

removal from farm to farm, or even from field to field. Either of these

may be the best device yet perfected; but we are bound to do better in

time.

Precisely how and when the winds which sweep over our fields shall be

employed to pulverize and till the soil, are among the many things I do

not know; but, that the end will yet be achieved, I undoubtingly trust.

I know somewhat--not much--of what has been done and is doing, both in

Europe and America, to extend and diversify the utilization of wind as a

source of power, and to compress and retain it so that the gale which

sweeps over a farm to-night may afford a reserve or fund of power for

its cultivation on the morrow or thereafter. I know a little of what has

been devised and done toward converting and transmitting, through the

medium of compressed air, the power generated by a waterfall--say

Niagara or Minnehaha--so that it may be expended and utilized at a

distance of miles from its source, impelling machinery of all kinds at

half the cost of steam. I know vaguely of what is being done with

Electricity, with an eye to its employment in the production of power,

by means of enginery not a tenth so weighty and cumbrous as that

required for the generation and utilization of Steam, and by means of a

consumption (that is, transformation) of materials not a hundredth part

so bulky and heavy as the water and steam which fill the boilers of our

factories and locomotives. I am no mechanician, and will not even guess

from what source, through what agencies, the new power will be

vouch-safed us which is in time to pulverize our fields to any required

depth with a rapidity, perfection, and economy, not now anticipated by

the great body of our farmers. But my faith in its achievement is

undoubting; and, though I may not live to see it, I predict that there

are readers of this essay who will find the forces abundantly generated

all around us by the spontaneous movement of Wind, Water, and

Electricity--one or more, and probably by all of them--so utilized and

wielded as to lighten immensely the farmer's labor, while quadrupling

its efficiency in producing all by which our Earth ministers to the

sustenance and comfort of man.

XLVIII.

RURAL DEPOPULATION.

Complaint is widely made of a decrease in the relative population of our

rural districts; and not without reason, or, at least, plausibility. I

presume the Census of 1870 will return no more farmers in the State of

New York, and probably some fewer in New England, than were shown by the

Census of 1860. The very considerable augmentation of the number of

their people will be found living wholly in the cities and incorporated

villages. I doubt whether there are more farmers in the State of New

York to-day than there were in 1840, though the total population has

meantime doubled. Many farms have been transformed into country-seats

for city bankers, merchants, and lawyers; others have been consolidated,

so that what were formerly two or three, now constitute but one; and,

though every body says, "Our farms are too large for our capital," "We

run over too much land," etc., etc., yet, I can hear of few farms that

have been, or are expected to be, divided, except into village or city

lots; while the prevalent tendency is still the other way. An

inefficient farmer dies heavily in debt, or is sold out by the sheriff:

his farm is rarely divided between two purchasers, while it is quite

often absorbed into the estate of some thrifty neighbor; and thus small

farmers are selling out and moving westward much oftener than large

ones. Such are the obvious facts: now for some of the reasons:

I. Our State, like New England, was originally all but covered by a

heavy growth of forest. The removal of this timber involved very much

hard work, most of which has been done in this century, and much of it

by the present generation. When I first traversed Chautauqua County,

forty-three years ago, from two-thirds to three-fourths of her acres

must have been still covered with the primeval forest--a tall, heavy

growth of Beech, Maple, Hemlock, White Pine, etc., which yielded very

slowly to the efforts of the average chopper. Many a pioneer gave half

his working hours for twenty years to the clearing off of Timber,

Fencing, cutting out roads, etc., and had not sixty acres in arable

condition at the last. Outside of the villages, the population of that

county was probably as great in 1830 as it is to-day, though the annual

production of her tillage was not half what it now is. Her farms are now

made; her remaining woodlands are worth about as much per acre as her

tillage; there is now comparatively little timber-cutting, or

land-clearing; and two-thirds of the pioneers, or their sons who

inherited their farms, have sold out, or been sold out, and pushed

further westward. Meantime, Grazing and Dairying have extensively

supplanted Grain-growing; and farmers who found more work than they

could do on 60 or 80 acres, now manage 160 to 320 acres with ease. I do

not say that they ought not to farm better; I only state the facts that

they thrive by this dairy-farming, and are not exhausting their lands.

And what is true of Chautauqua is measurably true of half the rural

Counties in our State.

II. Formerly, Wood was the only fuel known to our farmers, while immense

quantities of it were burned in our cities, at the salt-works, etc. At

present, wood is scarcely used for fuel, except as kindling, in any of

our cities, villages, or manufactories, while the consumption of Coal by

our farmers is already very large, and rapidly extending. All this

reduces the demand for labor on our farms and in our forests, while

increasing the corresponding demand in the Coal Mines, and on the

railroads. Luzerne County, Pennsylvania, has doubled her population

within the last twelve or fourteen years; and this at the expense of our

rural districts.

III. Our agricultural implements and machinery grow annually more

effective, and at the same time more costly. The outfit of a good farm

costs five-fold what it did forty years ago. The farmer makes and

secures his Hay far more rapidly and effectively than his father did,

but pays far more for Reapers, Mowers, Rakers, etc.; in other words, he

makes Winter work abridge that of Summer--makes a hundred days' work in

some village or city save thrice as many days' work on his farm. This

enhances his profits, but swells our urban, while it diminishes our

rural population.

IV. Much has been said of the degeneracy and increasing sterility of the

New England Puritan stock. All this is shallow and absurd. There never

before were so many people who proudly traced their origin to a New

England ancestry as now. What is true in the premises is this: The New

England stock is becoming very widely diffused, and is giving place, to

a considerable extent, to other elements in its original home. Forty

years ago, at least seven-eighths of the inhabitants of Boston were of

New England birth and lineage; now, hardly half are so. The descendants

of the Pilgrims are scattered all over our wide country; while hundreds

of thousands have flowed in from Ireland, from Germany, from Canada, to

fill the places thus relinquished; and, since most of the immigrants,

whether into or out of New England, seek their future homes in the

spring-time of life, their children are mainly born to them after rather

than before their migration. The Yankees have no fewer children than

formerly; but they are now born in Minnesota, in Illinois, in Kansas;

while those born in New England are, for identical reasons, in large

proportion of Irish or of Canadian parentage. There are New England

townships, whereof most of the heads of families are long past the prime

of life; their children having left them for more attractive

localities, and the work on their farms being now done mainly by

foreign-born employes. As a general rule, the boys first wandered off;

leaving the girls only the alternative of following, or dying in

maidenhood. Marked diversities of race, of creed, and of education, have

thus far prevented any considerable intermingling of the Yankee with the

foreign element by marriage. And what is true of New England is

measurably true of our own State.

I have not intended by these observations to combat the assumption that

our people too generally prefer other employments to farming. The

obstacles to effective modern Agriculture--that is, to agriculture

prosecuted by the help of efficient machinery--presented by that

incessant alternation of rock and bog, which characterizes New England

and some parts of New York, I have already noted; and they interpose a

serious, discouraging impediment to agricultural progress. A farm

intersected by two or three swamps and brooks, separated by steep,

rocky, ridges, and dotted over with pebbly knolls, sometimes giving

place to a strip of sterile sand, is far more repulsive to the capable,

intelligent farmer of to-day than it was to his grandfather. So far as

my observation extends, there are more New England farms on which you

cannot, than on which you can, find ten acres in one unbroken area

suitable for planting to Corn, or sowing to Winter Grain. Hence,

Agriculture in the East will always seem petty and irregular when

brought into contrast with the prairie cultivation of the West. Grain

can never be grown here so cheaply nor so abundantly as there; while the

tendency of our pastures to cover themselves over with moss and

worthless shrubs, unless frequently broken up and reseeded, makes even

dairying more difficult and costly in New England and along its western

border than in almost any other part of our country.

Yet, these discouragements are balanced by compensations. Timber springs

luxuriantly and grows rapidly throughout this region; while our harsh,

capricious climate gives to our Hickory, White Oak, White Ash, and other

varieties, qualities unknown to such grown elsewhere, while prized

everywhere. Apples, and most fruits of the Temperate Zone, do well with

us; while our cities and manufacturing villages proffer most capacious

markets. Potatoes and other edible roots produce liberally, and

generally command good prices. Hay sells for $12 to $30 per ton, is

easily grown, and is in eager and increasing demand. We ought to produce

twice our present crop from the same area, and have need of every pound

of it; for neither our cattle nor our sheep are nearly so numerous nor

so well fed as they should be. In short, there is money to be made, by

those who have means and know how, by buying New England farms, tilling

them better, and growing much larger crops than their present occupants

have done. There are many who can do better in the West; but the right

men can still make money by farming this side of the Susquehanna and the

Genesee; and I would gladly incite some thousands more of them to try.

XLIX.

LARGE AND SMALL FARMS.

There is fascination for most minds in naked magnitude. The young

colonel, who can hardly handle a brigade effectively in battle, would

like of all things to command a great army; and the tiller of fifty

rugged acres has his ravishing dreams of the delights inherent in a

great Western farm, with its square miles of corn-fields, and its

thousands of cattle. Each of them is partly right and partly wrong.

There are generals capable of commanding 100,000 men, Napoleon says

there were two such in his day--himself and another: and these generally

find the work they are fit for, without special effort or aspiration. So

there are men, each of whom can really farm a township, not merely let a

herd of cattle roam over it unfed and unsheltered, living and dying as

may chance: the owners expecting to grow rich by their natural increase.

This _ranching_ is not properly farming at all, but a very different and

far ruder art. I judge that the farmers who can really till--or even

graze--several thousand acres of land, so as to realize a fair interest

on its value, are even scarcer than the farms so capacious.

But there is such a thing as farming on a large scale; and it is a good

business for those who understand it, and have all the means it

requires. The farmer who annually grows a thousand acres of good Grain,

and takes reasonable care of a thousand head of Cattle, is to be held in

all honor. He will usually grow both his Grain and his Beef cheaper than

a small farmer could do it, and will generally find a good balance on

the right side when he makes up and squares his accounts of a year's

operations. I could recommend no man to run into debt for a great farm,

expecting that farm to work him out of it but he who inherited or has

acquired a large farm, well stocked, and knows how to make it pay, may

well cling to it, and count himself fortunate in its possession. But the

great farmer is already regarded with sufficient envy. Most boys would

gladly be such as he is; the difficulty in the case is that they lack

the energy, persistency, resolution, and self-denial, requisite for its

achievement.

We will leave large farms and farming to recommend themselves, while we

consider more directly the opportunities and reasonable expectations of

the small farmer.

The impression widely current that money cannot be made on a small

farm--that, in farming, the great fish eat up the little ones--is

deduced from very imperfect data. I have admitted that Grain and Beef

can usually be produced at less cost on great than on small farms,

though the rule is not without exceptions. I only insist that there are

room and hope for the small farmer also, and that large farming can

never absorb nor enable us to dispense with small farms.

I. And first with regard to Fruit. Some Tree-Fruits, as well as Grapes,

are grown on a large scale in California--it is said, with profit. But

nearly all our Pears, Apples, Cherries, Plums, etc., are grown by small

farmers or gardeners, and are not likely to be grown otherwise. All of

them need at particular seasons a personal attention and a vigilance

which can seldom or never be accorded by the owners or renters of large

farms. Should small farms be generally absorbed into larger, our

Fruit-culture would thenceforth steadily decline.

II. The same is even more true of the production of Eggs and the rearing

of Fowls. I have had knowledge of several attempts at producing Eggs and

Fowls on a large scale in this country, but I have no trustworthy

account of a single decided success in such an enterprise. On the

contrary, many attempts to multiply Fowls by thousands have broken down,

just when their success seemed secure. Some contagious disease, some

unforeseen disaster, blasted the sanguine expectations of the

experimenter, and transmuted his gold into dross.

Yet, I judge that there is no industry more capable of indefinite

extension, with fair returns, than Fowl-breeding on a moderate scale.

Eggs and Chickens are in universal demand. They are luxuries appreciated

alike by rich and poor; and they might be doubled in quantity without

materially depressing, the market. Our thronged and fashionable

watering-places are never adequately supplied with them; our cities

habitually take all they can get and look around for more. I believe

that twice the largest number of Chickens ever yet produced in one year

might be reared in 1871, with profit to the breeders. Even if others

should fail, the home market found in each family would prove signally

elastic.

This industry should especially commend itself to poor widows,

struggling to retain and rear their children in frugal independence. A

widow who, in the neighborhood of a city or of a manufacturing village,

can rent a cottage with half an acre of southward-sloping, sunny land,

which she may fence so tightly as to confine her Hens therein, whenever

their roaming abroad would injure or annoy her neighbors, and who can

incur the expense of constructing thereon a warm, commodious Hen-house,

may almost certainly make the production of Eggs and Fowls a source of

continuous profit. If she can obtain cheaply the refuse of a

slaughter-house for feed, giving with it meal or grain in moderate

quantities, and according that constant, personal, intelligent

supervision, without which Fowl-breeding rarely prospers, she may

reasonably expect it to pay, while affording her an occupation not

subject to the caprices of an employer, and not requiring her to spend

her days away from home.

III. Though the ordinary Market Vegetables may be grown on large farms,

the fact that they seldom are is significant. Cabbages, Peas, Poled

Beans, Tomatoes, and even Potatoes, are mainly grown on small farms, as

they always have been. There are sections wherein no cash market for

Vegetables exists or can be relied on; and here they will continue to be

grown to the extent only of the growers' respective needs; but wherever

the prevalence of manufactures or the neighborhood of a great city gives

reasonable assurance of a market, they are grown at a profit per acre

which is rarely realized from a Grain-crop. No less than $100 per acre

is often, if not generally, achieved by the growers of Cabbage around

this city; and this not from rich, deep garden-mold, but from fair

farming land, underdrained, subsoiled, and liberally manured.

The careless, slipshod farmer may do better--that is, he will not fail

so signally--in Grain cultivation; but there are few more decided or

brilliant successes than have been achieved within the last few years

within sight of this City, and wholly in the tillage of small farms.

I trust I have here said enough to show that there is a legitimate and

promising field for agricultural enterprise and effort, other than that

which contemplates the acquisition and rule of a township, and that,

while farming on a large area is to many attractive and inspiring, there

are scope and incitement also for tillage on a humbler scale--for

tillage that permits no weed to ripen seed, and no nest of caterpillars

to flourish a month undisturbed--for tillage that achieves large crops

and profits from small areas, and rejoices in that neatness and

perfection of culture attainable only in the management of small farms.

L.

EXCHANGE AND DISTRIBUTION.

The machinery whereby the farmer of our day converts into cash or other

values that portion of his products which is not consumed in his house

or on his farm, seems to me lamentably imperfect. Let me illustrate my

meaning:

After three all but fruitless years, we have this year a bountiful

Apple-crop, in this State and (I believe) throughout the North. Our old

orchards being still, for the most part, preserved and in bearing

condition, while a good many young ones, planted ten to twenty years

ago, begin to fruit considerably, we had, throughout the three Fall

months, a superabundance of this homely, wholesome, palatable fruit. It

should have been cheap for the great body of our mechanics and laborers

to provide their families with all the ripe, good Apples that they could

consume without injuring themselves by gluttony. Good Apples should have

been constantly displayed on every workingman's table, to be eaten raw

as a dessert, or baked and eaten with bread and milk for breakfast or

supper. Each provident housewife should now have her tub of applesauce,

her barrel of dried apples, or both, for Winter use; while a dozen

bushels of good keepers should be stored in every cellar, to be drawn

upon from day to day during the next four or five months. In short,

Apples should have been and be, from last August to next May, as common

as bread and potatoes, and should have been and be as freely eaten in

every household and by every fireside.

How nearly have we realized this?

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