All this day I have been strolling about the fields, watching
the getting in of the harvest. The crops of oats, rye, and wheat
(principally bearded) are much heavier than any one would expect
from such light and apparently poor land; but the heavy dews which
characterize the summer climate of this high country impart a
nourishment which, in richer lands, often lies dormant from drought.
In Nassau, the corn is cut principally by women, who use a sickle so
very small and light, that it seems but little labour to wield it. They
begin early in the morning, and with short intervals of rest continue
till eleven o'clock, when the various village bells suddenly strike
up a merry peal, which is a signal to the labourers to come home to
their dinners. It is a very interesting scene to observe, over the
undulating surface of the whole country, groups of peasants, brothers,
sisters, parents, &c., all bending to their sickles--to see children
playing round infants lying fast asleep on blue smock-frocks placed
under the shade of the corn sheaves. It is pleasing to remark the rapid
progress which the several parties are making; how each little family,
attacking its own patch or property, works its way into the standing
corn, leaving the crop prostrate behind them; and then, in the middle
of this simple, rural, busy scene, it is delightful indeed to hear from
the belfry of their much-revered churches a peal of cheerful notes,
which peacefully sound "lullaby" to them all. In a very few seconds
the square fields and little oblong plots are deserted, and then the
various roads and paths of the country suddenly burst in lines upon
the attention, each being delineated by a string of peasants, who are
straggling one behind the other, until paths in all directions are seen
converging towards the parental village churches, which seem to be
attracting them all.
As soon as each field of corn is cut, it is bound into sheaves, about
the size they are in England: seven of these are then made to lean
towards each other, and upon them all is placed a large sheaf reversed,
the ears of which hanging downwards form a sort of thatch, which keeps
this little stack dry until its owner has time to carry it to his home.
It generally remains many days in this state, and after the harvest has
been all cut, the country covered with these stacks resembles a vast
encampment.
The carts and waggons used for carrying the corn are exceedingly well
adapted to the country. Their particular characteristic is excessive
lightness, and, indeed, were they heavy, it would be quite impossible
for any cattle to draw them up and down the hills. Occasionally
they are drawn by horses--often by small active oxen; but cows more
generally perform this duty, and with quite as much patience as their
mistresses, at the same moment, are labouring before them at the
sickle. The yoke, or beam, by which these cows are connected, is placed
immediately behind their horns; a little leathern pillow is then laid
upon their brow, over which passes a strap that firmly lashes their
heads to the beam, and it is, therefore, against such soft cushions
that the animals push to advance: and thus linked together for life,
by this sort of Siamese band, it is curious to observe them eating
together, then by agreement raising their heads to swallow, then
again standing motionless chewing the cud, which is seen passing and
repassing from the stomach to the mouth.
At first, when, standing near them, I smelt from their breath the
sweet fresh milk, it seemed hard that they should thus be, as it were,
domestic candles, lighted at both ends: however, verily do I believe
that all animals prefer exercise, or even hard work, to any sort of
confinement, and if so, they are certainly happier than our stall-fed
cows, many of which, in certain parts of Britain, may be seen with
their heads fixed economically for months between two vertical beams
of wood. The Nassau cows certainly do not seem to suffer while working
in their light carts; as soon as their mistress advances, they follow
her, and if she turns and whips them, then they seem to hurry after her
more eagerly than ever.
It is true, hard labour has the effect of impoverishing their milk, and
the calf at home is consequently (so far as it is concerned) a loser
by the bargain: however, there is no child in the peasant's family who
has not had cause to make the same complaint; and, therefore, so long
as the labourer's wife carries her infant to the harvest, the milch cow
may very fairly be required to draw to the hovel what has been cut by
her hands.
Nothing can be better adapted to the features of the country, nothing
can better accord with the feeble resources of its inhabitants, than
the equipment of these economical waggons and carts: the cows and oxen
can ascend any of the hills, or descend into any of the valleys; they
can, without slipping, go sideways along the face of the hills, and in
crossing the green, swampy, grassy-ravines, I particularly remarked the
advantage of the light waggon drawn by animals with cloven feet; for
had one of our heavy teams attempted the passage, like a set of flies
walking across a plate of treacle, they would soon have become unable
to extricate even themselves. But in making the comparison between the
horse and the cow (as far as regards Nassau husbandry), I may further
observe, that the former has a very expensive appetite, and wears very
expensive shoes; as soon as he becomes lame he is useless, and as soon
as he is dead he is carrion. Now a placid, patient Langen-Schwalbach
cow, in the bloom of her youth, costs only two or three pounds; she
requires neither corn nor shoeing: the leaves of the forest, drawn by
herself to the village, form her bed, which in due time she carries out
to the field as manure: there is nothing a light cart can carry which
she is not ready to fetch, and from her work she cheerfully returns to
her home to give milk, cream, butter and cheese to the establishment:
at her death she is still worth eleven kreuzers a pound as beef; and
when her flesh has disappeared, her bones, after being ground at the
mill, once again appear upon her master's fields, to cheer, manure, and
enrich them.
As, quite in love with cows, I was returning from the harvest, I met
the Nassau letter-cart, one of the cheapest carriages for its purpose
that can well be conceived. It consists of a pair of high wheels
connected by a short axle, upon which are riveted a few boards framed
together in the form of a small shallow box; in this little coffin the
letter-bag is buried, and upon it, like a monument, sits a light boy
dressed in the uniform of a Nassau postillion, who with a trumpet in
one hand, a long whip in the other, and the reins sporting loose under
his feet, starts as if he deliberately meant mischief, intending to get
well over his ground; and there being scarcely any weight to carry, the
horse really might proceed as a mail-coach horse ought to go; but that
horrible Punch and Judy trumpet upsets the whole arrangement, for as
the thing is very heavy, the child soon takes two hands to it instead
of one, when down goes the whip, and from that moment the picture,
which promised to be a good one, is spoiled.
The letter-bag crawls, like a reptile, along the road; while the boy,
amusing himself with his plaything, reminds one of those "nursery
rhymes" which say,
"And with rings on his fingers, and bells on his toes,
We shall have music wherever he goes."
It is quite provoking to see a government carriage in its theory
so simply imagined, and so cleverly adapted to its purpose, thus
completely ruined in its practice. Music may be, and indeed is, very
delightful in its way; but a tune is one thing--speed another; and it
always seems to me a pity that the Duke of Nassau should allow these
two substantives to be so completely confounded in his dominions.
How admirably does the long tin horn of the guard of one of our
mail-coaches perform its blunt duty!--a single blast is sufficient
to remove the obstruction of an old gentleman in his gig--two are
generally enough for a heavy cart--three for a waggon--and half-a-dozen
slowly and sternly applied, are always sufficient to awaken the snoring
keeper of a turnpike-gate--in short, to
"Break his bands of sleep asunder,
And rouse him like a rattling peal of thunder.
Hark! hark! the horrid sound
Has raised up his head, as awaked from the dead,
And amazed he stares around!"
The gala turn-out of our mail-coaches on the King's birth-day, I always
think must strike foreigners more than anything else in our country
with the sterling solid integrity of the English character. To see so
many well-bred horses in such magnificent condition--so many well-built
carriages--so many excellent drivers, and such a corps of steady,
quiet, resolute-looking men as guards, each wearing, as well as every
coachman, the King's own livery--all this must silently point out, even
to our most jealous enemies, not only the wealth of the country, but
the firm basis on which it stands; in short, it must prove to them most
undeniably, that there is no one thing in England which, throughout
the land, is treated with so much universal attention and respect, as
the honest, speedy, and safe delivery of the letters and commercial
correspondence of the country. Nevertheless, if our English coachmen
were to be allowed, instead of attending to their horses, to play on
trumpets as they proceeded, we should, as in the Duchy of Nassau, soon
pay very dearly for their music.