REESE LIBRARY
OF THE
! UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA.
Class
YEAR'S RESIDENCE,
IN THE
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.
Treating of the Face of the Country, the Climate, the Soil, the Pro
ducts, the Mode of Cultivating the Land, the Prices of Land, of
Labour, of Food, of Raiment ; of the Expenses of House-keeping,
and of the usual Manner of Living ; of the Manners and Customs
of the People ; and of the Institutions of the Country, Civil,
Political, and Religious.
IN THREE PARTS.
BY WILLIAM COBBETT,
1HIP.D EDITION.
PART I.
Containing,— I. A Description of the face of the Country, the Climate, the
Seasons, and the Soil, the facts being taken from the Author's daily
notes during a whole year — II.' An Account of the Author's agricultural
experiments in the Cultivation of the Ruta Baga, or Russia, or Swedish
Turnip, which afford proof of what the climate and soil are.
PRINTED BY B. BENSLEY, ANDOVER,
AND
PUBLISHED BY THE AUTHOR, 183, FLEET STREET, LONDON.
AND SOLD BY ALL BOOKSELLERS.
1828.
CONTENTS OF PART I.
Page
General Preface to the Three Parts 1
CHAP. I.
Description of the Situation and Extent of Long Island,
and also of tlie face of the Country, and an Account
of the Climate, Seasons, and Soil 11
CHAP. II.
Ruta Baga. Culture, Mode of preserving, and Uses
of the Ruta Baga, sometimes called the Russia, and
sometimes the Swedish, Turnip ....... 46
A r- o f > \
jL •<-* <-* *s Jt
A 2
GENERAL PREFACE
TO THK
THREE PARTS.
1. THROUGHOUT the whole of this work it is
my intention to number the paragraphs, from
one end to the other of each PART. This ren
ders the business of reference more easy than
it can be rendered by any mode in my power
to mid out ; and, easy reference saves a great
deal of paper and print, and also, which ought
to be more valuable, a great deal of time, of
which an industrious man has never any to spare.
To desire the reader to look at paragraph such
a number of suck a party will frequently, as he
will find, save him both money and labour ;
for, without this power of reference, the para
graph, or the substance of it, would demand
being repeated in the place where the refer
ence would be pointed out to him.
2. Amongst all the publications, which I
have yet seen, on the subject of the United
States, as a country to live in, and especially
ivfarm in, I have never yet observed one that
conveyed to Englishmen any thing like a cor
rect notion of the matter. Some writers of
Travels in these States have jolted along in
the stages from place to place, have lounged
away their time with the idle part of their own
countrymen, and, taking every thing different
VI GENERAL PREFACE.
from what they left at home for the effect of
ignorance, and every thing not servile to be
the effect of insolence,, have described the
country as unfit for a civilized being to reside
in. Others, coming with a resolution to find
every thing better than at home, and weakly
deeming themselves pledged to find climate,
soil, and all blessed by the effects of freedom,
have painted the country as a perfect paradise ;
they have seen nothing but blooming orchards
and smiling faces.
3. The account, which I shall give, shall be
that of actual experience. I will say what I
knoiv and what 1 have seen and what I have
done. I mean to give an account of a YEAR'S
RESIDENCE, ten months in this Island and two
months in Pennsylvania, in which I went back
to the first ridge of mountains. In the course
of the THREE PARTS, of which this work will
consist, every thing which appears to me. use
ful to persons intending to come to this coun
try shall be communicated ; but, more espe
cially that which may be useful to farmers;
because, as to such matters, I have ample ex
perience. Indeed, this is the main thing ; for
this is really and truly a country of farmers..
Here, Governors, Legislators, Presidents, all
are farmers. A farmer here is not the poor
dependent wretch that a Yeomanry-Cavalry
man is, or that a Treason-Jury man is. A
farmer here depends on nobody but himself
and on his own proper means; and, if he
be not at his ease, and even rich, it must be
his own fault.
4. To make men clearly see what they may
GENERAL PREFACE. VJt
do in any situation of life, one of the best
modes, if not the very best, is to give them, in
detail, an account of what one has done oneself
in that same situation, and how and when and
where one has done it. This, as far as relates
to farming and house-keeping in the country, is
the mode that I shall pursue. I shall give an
account of what I have done ; and, while this
will convince any good farmer, or any man of
tolerable means, that he may, if he will, do the
same ; it will give him an idea of the climate,
soil, crops, &c. a thousand times more neat
and correct, than could be conveyed to his
mind by any general description, unaccompa
nied with actual experimental accounts.
5. As the expressing of this intention, may,
perhaps, suggest to the reader to ask, how it
is that much can be known on the subject of
Farming by a man, who, for thirty-six out of
fifty-two years of his life has been a Soldier
or a Political Writer, and who, of course, has
spent so large a part of his time in garrisons
and in great cities, I will beg leave to satisfy
this natural curiosity beforehand.
6. Early habits and affections seldom quit
us while we have vigour of mind left. I was
brought up under a father, whose talk was
chiefly about his garden and his fields, with
regard to which he was famed for his skill and
his exemplary neatness. From my very in
fancy, from the age of six years, when I
climbed up the side of a steep sand-rock, and
there scooped me out a plot four feet square
to make me a garden, and the soil for which
I carried up in the bosom of my little blue
Vlll GENERAL PREFACE.
smock-frock (or hunting-shirt),! have never lost
one particle of my passion for these healthy
and rational and heart-cheering pursuits, in
which every day presents something new, in
which the spirits are never suffered to flag,
and in which industry, skill, and care are sure
to meet with their due reward. I have never,
for any eight months together, during my
whole life, been without a garden. So sure
are we to overcome difficulties where the
heart and mind are bent on the thing to be
obtained !
7. The beautiful plantation of American
Trees round my house at Botley, the seeds of
which were sent me, at my request, from Penn
sylvania, in 1806, and some of which are now
nearly forty feet high, all sown and planted by
myself, will, I hope, long remain as a specimen
of my perseverance in this way. During my
whole life I have been a gardener. There is
no part of the business, which, first or last, I
have not performed with my own hands. And,
as to it, I owe very little to books, except
that of TULL; for I never read a good one
in my life, except a French book, called the
Manuel du Jardinier.
8. As i® farming, I was bred at the plough-
tai], and in the Hop-Gardens of Farnham in
Surrey, my native place, and which spot, as
it so happened, is the neatest in England, and
I believe, in the whole world. All there is a
garden. The neat culture of the hop extends
its influence to the fields round about Hedges
cut with shears and every other mark of skill
and care strike the eye at Farnham, and be-
GENERAL PREFACE. IX
tome fainter and fainter as you go from it in
every direction. I have had, besides, great
experience in farming for several years of late;
for, one man will gain more knowledge in a
year than another will in a life. It is the taste
for the thing that really gives the knowledge.
9. To this taste, produced in me by a desire
to imitate a father whom I ardently loved, and
to whose very word I listened with admiration,
I owe no small part of my happiness, for a
greater proportion of which very few men ever
had to be grateful to God. These pursuits,
innocent in themselves, instructive in their
very nature, and always tending to preserve
health, have a constant, a never-failing source,
of recreation to me ; and, which I count amongst
the greatest of their benefits and blessings,
they have always, in my house, supplied the
place of the card-table, the dice-box, the
chess-board and the lounging bottle. Time
never hangs on the hands of him, who delights
in these pursuits, and who has books on the
subject to read. Even when shut up within
the walls of a prison, for having complained
that Englishmen had been flogged in the heart
of England under a guard of German Bayonets
and Sabres ; even then, I found in these pur
suits a source of pleasure inexhaustible. To
that of the whole of our English books on
these matters, I then added the reading of all
the valuable French books; and I then, for
the first time, read that Book of all Books on
husbandry, the work of JETHRO TULL, to the
principles of whom 1 owe more than to all my
other reading and all my experience, and of
A 5
X GENE&AL PREFACE.
which principles I hope to find time to give a
sketch, at least, in some future PART of this
work.
10. I wish it to be observed, that,, in any
thing which I may say, during the course of
this work, though truth will compel me to state
facts, which will, doubtless, tend to induce
farmers to leave England for America, I advise
no one so to do. I shall set down in writing
nothing but what is strictly true. I myself am
bound to England for life. My notions of al
legiance to country; my great and anxious
desire to assist in the restoration of her free
dom and happiness ; my opinion that I possess,
in some small degree, at any rate, the power
to render such assistance ; and, above all the
other considerations, my unchangeable attach
ment to the people of England, and especially
those who have so bravely struggled for our
rights : these bind me to England ; but I shall
leave others to judge and to act for them
selves.
WM. COBBETT,
North Hempsted, Long Island,
2lBt April, 1818.
A
YEAR'S RESIDENCE,
Sic.
CHAP. I.
Description of the Situation and Extent of Long
Island, and also of the Face of the Country, arid
an Account of the Climate, Seasons., and Soil.
11. LONG ISLAND is situated in what may be called
the middle climate of that part of the United States,
which, coastwise, extends from Boston to the Bay of
Chesapeake. Farther to the South, the cultivation is
chiefly by negroes, and farther to the North than Bos
ton is too cold and arid to be worth much notice, though,
doubtless, there are to be found in those parts good
spots of land and go4>d farmers. Boston is about 200
miles to the North of me, and the Bay of Chesapeake
about the same distance to the South. In speaking 'of
the climate and seasons, therefore, an allowance must be
made, of hotter or colder, earlier or later, in a degree
proportioned to those distances ; because 1 can speak
positively only of the very spot, at which 1 have resided.
But this is a matter of very little consequence ; seeing
that every part has its seasons first or last. All the dif
ference is, that, in some parts of the immense space of
which I have spoken, there is a little more summer than
in other parts. The same crops will, I believe, grow
in them all.
12. The situation of Long Island is this : it is about
130 miles long, and on an average, about 8 miles broad.
It extends in length from the Bay of the City of New
York to within a short distance of the State of Rhode
12 CLIMATE, SEASONS, 8cc. [Part I.
Island. One side of it is against the sea, the other side
looks across an arm of the sea into a part of the State
of New York (to which Long Island belongs) and into
a part of the State of Connecticut. At the end near
est the city of New York it is separated from the site
of that city, by a channel so narrow as to be crossed by
a Steam-Boat in a few minutes ; and this boat, with
another near it, impelled by a team of horses, which
works in the boat, form the mode of conveyance from
the Island to the city, for horses, waggons, and every
thing else.
13. The Island is divided into three counties ; King's
county, Queen's county, and the county of Suffolk.
King's county takes off the end next New York city,
for about 13 miles up the island ; Queen's county cuts
off another slice about thirty miles farther up ; and all
the rest is the county of Suffolk. These counties are
divided into townships. And, the municipal govern
ment of Justices of the Peace, Sheriffs, Constables, &c.
is in nearly the English way, with such differences as 1
shall notice in the SECOND PART of this work.
14. There is a ridge of hills, which runs from one
end of the Island to the other. The two sides are flats,
or, rather, very easy and imperceptible slopes towards
the sea. There are no rivers, or rivulets, except here
and there a little run into a bottom which lets in the
sea-water for a mile or two as it were to meet the springs.
Dryness is, therefore, a great characteristic of this Is
land. At the place where I live, which is in Queen's
county, and very nearly the middle of the Island, cross
wise, we have no water, except in a well seventy feet
deep, and from the clouds ; yet, we never experience a
want of water. A large rain-water cistern to take the
run from the house, and a duck-pond to take that from
the barn, afford an ample supply ; and I can truly say,
that as to the article of water, I never was situated to
please me so well in my life before. The rains come
about once in fifteen days ; they come in abundance for
about twenty-four hours : and then all is fair and all is
dry again immediately : yet here and there, especially
on the hills, there are ponds, as they call them here ;
Chap. I.] CLIMATE, SEASONS, &c. 13
but in England, they would be called lakes, from their
extent as well as from their depth. These, with
the various trees which surrounded them, are very beau
tiful indeed.
15. The /arms are so many plots originally scooped
out of woods ; though in King's and Queen's counties
the land is generally pretty much deprived of the woods,
which, as in every other part of America that t have
seen, are beautiful beyond all description. The Walnut
of two or three sorts, the Plane, the Hickory, Chesnut,
Tulip Tree, Cedar, Sassafras, Wild Cherry (sometimes
()0 feet high ;) more than fifty sorts of Oaks ; and many-
other trees, but especially the Flowering Locust, or
Acacia, which, in my opinion, surpasses all other trees,
and some of which, in this Island, are of a very great
height and girt. The Orchards constitute a feature of
great beauty. Every farm has its orchard, and, in
general of cherries as \vell as of apples and pears. Of
the cultivation and crops of these, I shall speak in ano
ther part of the work.
16. There is one great drawback to all these beau
ties, namely, the fences ; and, indeed, there is another
with us South-of-England people ; namely, the general
(for there are many exceptions) slovenliness about the
homesteads, and particularly about the dwellings of la
bourers. Mr. BIRKBECK complains of this; arid, in
deed, what a contrast with the homesteads and cottages,
which he left behind him near that exemplary spot,
Guildford in Surrey ? Both blots are, however, easily
accounted for.
17. The fences are of post and rail. This arose, in
the rirst place, from the abundance of timber that men
knew not how to dispose of. It is now become an
affair of great expense in the populous parts of the
country ; and, that it might, with great advantage and
perfect ease, be got rid of, I shall clearly show in ano
ther part of my work.
18. The dwellings and gardens, and little out-houses
of labourers, which form so striking a feature of beauty
in England, and especially in Kent, Sussex, Surrey,
and Hampshire, and which constitute a sort of fairy-land,
14 CLIMATE, SEASONS, &c. [Part 1,
when compared with those of the labourers in France,
are what I, for my part, most feel the want of seeing
upon Long Island. Instead of the neat and warm
little cottage, the yard, cow-stable, pig-sty, hen-house,
nil in miniature, and the garden, nicely laid out and
the paths bordered with flowers, while the cottage door
is crowned with a garland of roses or honey-suckle ; in
stead of these, we here see the labourer content with a
shell of boards, while all around him is as barren as
the sea-beach ; though the natural earth would send
melons, the finest in the world, creeping round his door,
and though there is no English shrub, or flower, which
will not grow and flourish here. This want of atten
tion in such cases is hereditary from the first settlers.
They found land so plenty, that they treated small spots
with contempt. Besides, the example of neatness was
wanting. There were "no gentlemen's gardens, kept as
clean as drawing-rooms, with grass as even as a carpet.
From endeavouring to imitate perfection men arrive at
mediocrity ; and, those who never have seen, or heard
of perfection, in these matters, will naturally be slovens.
19- Yet, notwithstanding these blots, as I deem
them, the face of the country, in summer, is very fine.
From December £o May, there is not a speck of green.
No green-grass and turnips, and wheat, and rye, and
rape, as in England. The frost comes and sweeps all
vegetation and verdant existence from the face of the
earth. The wheat and rye live ; but they lose all their
verdure. Yet the state of tilings in June, is, as to
crops, and fruits, much about what it is in England ;
for, when things do begin to grow, they grow in
deed ; and the general harvest for grain (what we call
corn) is a full month earlier than in the South of Eng
land !
20. Having now given a sketch of the face of the
country, it only remains for me to speak in this place
of the Climate and Seasons, because I shall sufficiently
describe the Soil, when 1 come to treat of my own ac
tual experience of it. I do not like, in these cases,
general descriptions. Indeed, they must be very im
perfect ; and, there fore, I will just give a copy of a
Chap. 1.] JOURNAL — MAY. 15
-r
JOURNAL,
kept by myself, from the 5th of May 1817, to the 20th of
April, 1818. This, it appears to me, is the best way
of proceeding ; for, then, there can be no deception j
and therefore, I insert it as follows.
1817. MAY.
5. Landed at New York.
6. Went over to Long Island. Very fine day, warm
as Mai/ in England. The Peach-trees going out of
bloom. Plum-trees in full bloom.
7. Cold, sharp. East wind, just like that which makes
the old debauchees in London shiver and shake.
8. A little frost in the night, and a wrarin day.
9. Cold in the shade and hot in the sun.
10. The weather has been dry for some time. The
grass is only beginning to grow a little.
11. Heavy thunder and rain in the night, and all this
day.
12. Rain till noon. Then warm and beautiful.
13. Warm, fine day. Saw in the garden, lettuces,
onions, carrots, and parsnips, just come up out of the
ground.
14. Sharp, drying wind. People travel with great
coats, to be guarded against the morning and even
ing air.
15. Warm and fair. The farmers are beginning to
plant their Indian Corn.
16. Dry wind, warm in the sun. Cherry trees be
gin to come out in bloom. The Oaks show no green
yet. The Sassafras in flower, or, whatever else it is
called. It resembles the Elder flower a good deal.
17. Dry wind. Warmer than yesterday. An Eng-
ligh April morning, that is to say, a sharp April morn
ing and a June day.
18. Warm and fine. Grass pushes on. Saw some
Luserne in a warm spot, 8 inches high.
19. Rain all day. Grass grows apace. People
plant potatoes.
9.0. Fine and warm. A good cow sells, with a calf
16 JOURNAL. — JUNE. [Part I.
by her side, for 45 dollars. A steer, two .years oicr, 20
dollars. A working ox, five years old, 40 dollars.
21. Fine and warm day ; but the morning and even
ing coldish. The cherry-trees in full bloom, and the
pear-trees nearly the same. Oats, sown in April, up
and look extremely fine.
22. Fine and warm. — Apple-trees fast coming into
bloom. Oak buds breaking.
23. Fine and warm. — Things grow away. Saw kid
ney-beans up and looking pretty well. Saw some beets
coming up. Not a sprig of parsley to be had for love
or money. What improvidence ! Saw some cabbage
plants up and in the fourth leaf.
24. Rain at night and all day to-day. Apple-trees
in full bloom, and cherry-bloom falling off.
25. Fine and warm.
26. Dry coldish wind, but hot sun. The grass has
pushed on most furiously.
27. Dry wind. Spaded up a corner of ground and
sowed (in the natural earth) cucumbers and melons.
Just the time they tell me.
28. Warm and fair.
29. Cold wind ; but the sun warm. No jftres in
parlours now, except now-and-then in the mornings and
evenings.
30. Fine and warm. — Apples have dropped their
blossoms. And now the grass, the wheat, the rye,
and every thing, which has stood the year, or winter
through, appear to have overtaken their like in Old
England.
31. Coldish morning and evening.
JUNE.
.1. Fine warm day ; but, saw a man, in the evening,
covering something in a garden. It was kidney-beans^
and he feared a. frost ! To be sure, they are very ten
der things. I have had them nearly killed in England,
by June frosts.
2. Rain and warm. — The oaks and all the trees,
except the Flowering Locust, begin to look greenish.
3. Fine and warm. — The Indian Corn is generally
come up ; but looks yellow in consequence of the cold
Chap. I.] JOURNAL. — JUNE. 17
nights and little frosts. — N. B. I ought here to describe
to my English readers what this same Indian Corn
is. The Americans call it Cora, by way of eminence,
and wheat, rye, barley and oats, which we confound
under the name of corn, they confound under the name
of grain. The Indian Corn in its ripe seed state, con
sists of an ear, which is in the shape of a spruce-fir
apple. The grains, each of which is about the bulk of
the largest marrow-fat pea, are placed all round the
stalk, which goes up the middle, and this little stalk, to
which the seeds adhere, is called the Corn Cob. Some
of these ears (of which from 1 to 4 grow upon a plant)
are more than afoot long ; and I have seen many, each
of which weighed more than eighteen ounces, avoirdu
pois weight. They are long or short, heavy or light,
according to the land and the culture. I was at a
Tavern, in the village of North Hempstead, last fall
(of 1817) when I had just read, in the Courier English
newspaper, of a Noble Lord who had been sent on his
travels to France at ten years of age, and who, from
his high blooded ignorance of vulgar things, I suppose,
had swallowed a whole ear of corn, which, as the news
paper told us, had well nigh choked the Noble Lord.
The Landlord had just been showing me some of his fine
ears of corn ; and I took the paper out of my pocket
and read the paragraph : "What!" said he, u swallow
" a whole ear of corn at once ! No wonder that they
" have swallowed up poor Old John Bull's substance."
After a hearty laugh, we explained to him, that it must
have been wheat or bar leu. Then he said, and very
justly, that the Lord must have been a much greater
fool than a hog is. — The plant of the Indian corn grows,
upon an average, to about 8 feet high, and sends forth
the most beautiful leaves resembling the broad leaf of
the water flag. It is planted in hills, or rows, so that
the plough can go between the standing crop. Its
stalks and leaves are the best of fodder, if carefully
stacked ; and its grain is good for every thing. It is
eaten by man and beast in all the various shapes of
whole corn, meal, cracked, and every other way that can
be imagined. It is tossed down to hogs, sheep, cattle,
18 JOURNAL. — JUNE* [Part L
in the whole ear. The two former thresh for them
selves, arid the latter eat cob and all. It is eaten, and is
a very delicious thing, in its half-ripe, or milky state;
and these were the "ears of corn" which the Pharisees
complained of the Disciples for plucking off to eat on
the Sabbath Day ; for, how were they to eat wheat ears,
unless after the manner of the " Noble Lord" above
mentioned ? Besides, the Indian Corn is a native of
Palestine. The French, who doubtless, brought it ori
ginally from the Levant, call it Turkish Corn. The
Locusts, that John the Baptist lived on, were not (as I
used to wonder at when a boy) the noxious vermin that
devoured the land of Egypt ; but the bean, which comes
in the long pods borne by the three-thorned Locust-tree,
and of which I have an abundance here. The wild honey
was the honey of wild bees ; and the hollow trees here
contain swarms of them. The trees are cut, sometimes, in
winter, and the part containing the swarm, brought and
placed near the house. I saw this lately in Pennsylvania.
4. Fine rain. Began about ten o'clock.
5. Rain nearly all day.
6. Fine and warm. Things grow surprisingly.
7. Fine and warm. Rather cold at night.
8. Hot.
9. Rain all day. The wood green, and so beautiful !
The leaves look so fresh and delicate ! But, the Flower
ing Locust only begins to show leaf. It will, by and
by, make up, by its beauty, for its shyness at present.
10. Fine warm day. The cattle are up to their eyes
in grass.
1 1 . Fine warm day. Like the very, very finest in
England in June.
12. Fine day. And, when I say fine, I mean really
fine. Not a cloud in the sky.
13. Fine and hot. About as hot as the hottest of our
English July weather in common years. Lucerne, 2|
feet high.
14. Fine and hot ; but, we have always a breeze when
it is hot, which I did not formerly find in Pennsylvania.
This arises, I suppose, from our nearness to the sea.
15. Rain all day.
Chap. I.] JOURNAL. — JUNE. 1$
16. Fine, beautiful day. Never saw such fine wea
ther. Not a morsel of dirt. The ground sucks up all.
1 walk about and work in the land in shoes made of
deerskin. The}7 are dressed white, like breeches-lea
ther. 1 began to leave off my coat to-day, and do not
expect to put it on again till October. My hat is a
white chip, with broad brims. Never better health.
17. Fine day. The partridges (miscalled quails)
begin to sit. The orchard full of birds' nests ; and
amongst others, a dove is sitting on her eggs in an
apple tree.
IH. Fine day. Green peas fit to gather in pretty
early gardens, though only of the common hotspur sort.
May-duke cherries begin to be ripe.
19. Fine day. But, now comes my alarm ! The
musquitoesj and, still worse, the common house-fly,
which used to plague us so in Pennsylvania, and which
were the only things I ever disliked belonging to the
climate of America. Musquitoes are bred in stagnant
leater, of which here is none. Flies are bred in filth
of which none shall be near me as long as I can use a
shovel and a broom. They will fo\\ow fresh meat and
fish. Have neither, or be very careful. I have this
day put all these precautions in practice ; and, now let
us see the result.
20. Fine day. Carrots and parsnips, sown on the
3d a?id4th instant , all up, and in rough leaf ! Onions
up. The whole garden green in 18 days from the
sowing.
2 1 . Very hot. Thunder and heavy rain at night.
22. Fine day. May-duke cherries ripe.
23. Hot and close. Distant thunder.
24. Fine day.
25. Fine day. White-heart and black-heart cherries
getting ripe.
26. Rain. Planted out cucumbers and melons. I
find I am rather late.
27. Fine day.
28. Fine day. Gathered cherries for drying for
winter use.
29. Fine day.
20 JOURNAL.— JULY. [Part 1.
30. Rain all night. People are planting out their
cabbages for the winter crop.
JULY.
I. Fine day. Bought 20 bushels of English salt for
half a dollar a bushel.
2 & 3. Fine days.
4. Fine day. Carrots, sown 3d June, 3 inches high.
5. Very hot day. Nojties yet.
6. Fine hot day. Currants ripe. Oats in haw. Rye
nearly ripe. Indian corn two feet high. Haymaking
nearly done.
7. Rain and thunder early in the morning.
8. Fine hot day. Wear no waistcoat now, except in
the morning and evening.
9. Fine hot day. Apples to make puddings and
pies ; but our housekeeper does not know how to make
an apple-pudding. She puts the pieces of apple
amongst the batter ! She has not read Peter Pinder.
10. Fine hot day. I work in the land morning
and evening, and write in the day in a north room.
The dress is now become a very convenient, or rather, a
Very little inconvenient affair. Shoes, trowsers, shirt
and hat. No plague of dressing and undressing !
II. Fine hot day in the morning, but began to
grow dark in the afternoon. A sort of haze came over.
12. Very hot day. The common black cherries,
the little red honey cherries, all ripe now, and falling
and rotting by the thousands of pounds weight. But
this place which I rent is remarkable for abundance of
cherries. Some early peas, sown in the second week
in June, fit for the table. This is thirty days from the
time of sowing. Nojiies yet ! No musquitoes !
13. Hot and heavy, like the pleading of a quarter-ses
sions lawyer. No breeze to-day, which is rarefy the case.
14. Fine day. The Indian corn four feet high.
15. Fine day. We eat turnips sown on the second o*
June. Early cabbages (a gift) sown in May.
16. Fine hot day. Fine young onions, sown on the
8th of June.
17. Fine hot day. Harvest of wheat, rye, oats and
barley, half done. But, indeed, what is it to do when the
weather does so much.
Chap. I.] JOURNAL. — JULY. 21
18. Fne hot day.
K). Rain all day.
'20. Fine hot day, and some wind. All dry again as
completely as if it had not rained for a year.
21. Fine hot day ; but heavy rain at night. Flies a
few. Not more than in England. My son John, who
has just returned from Pennsylvania, says they are as
great torments there as ever. At a friend's house (a
farm house) there, two quarts of flies were caught in
one window in one day ! I do not believe that there are
two quarts in all my premises. But, then, I cause all
wash and slops to be carried forty yards from the house.
1 suffer no peelings or greens, or any rubbish, to lie
near the house. I suffer no fresh meat to remain more
than one day fresh in the house. I proscribe all tish.
Do not suffer a dog to enter the house. Keep all pigs
at a distance of sixty yards. And sweep all round about
once every week at least.
22. Fine hot day.
23. Fine hot day. Sowed Buck-wheat in a piece of
very poor ground.
24. Fine hot day. Harvest (for grain} nearly over.
The main part of the wheat, &c. is put into Barns ,
which are very large and commodious. Some they put
into small ricks, or stacks, out in the fields, and there
they stand without any thatching, till they are wanted
to be taken in during the winter, and, sometimes they
remain out for a whole year. Nothing can prove more
clearly than this fact, the great difference between this
climate and that of England, where, as every body knows,
such staks would be mere heaps of muck by January,
if they were not, long and long before that time, carried
clean off the farm by the wind. The crop is sometimes
threshed out in the field by the feet of horses, as
in the South of France. It is sometimes carried into the
the barn's floor, where three or four horses, or oxen,
going abreast, trample out the grain as the sheaves
or swarths, are brought in. And this explains to us
the humane precept of Moses, " not to muzzle the
ox as he treadeth out the grain" which we country
people in England eannot make out. i used to be puz-
22 JOURNAL.— JULY. [Part I •
zled too, in the story of RUTH, to imagine how BOAZ
could be busy amongst his threshers in the height of
harvest. — The weather is so fine, and the grain so dry
that, when the wheat and rye are threshed by the flail,
the sheaves are barely united, laid upon the floor, re
ceive a few raps, tmd are then tied up, clean threshed
for straw, without the order of the straws being in the
least changed! The ears and butts retain their places
in the sheaf, and the band that tied the sheaf before ties
it again, The straw is as bright as burnished gold.
Not a speck in it. These facts will speak volumes to
an English fanner, who will see with what ease work
must be done in such a country.
25. Fine hot day. Early pea, mentioned before har
vested, in forty days from the sowing. Not morejties
than in England.
26. Fine broiling day. The Indian Corn grows away
now, and has, each plant, at least a tumbler full of
water standing in the sockets of its leaves, while the
sun seems as if it would actually burn one. Yet we have
a breeze; and, under these fine shady Walnuts and
Locusts and Oaks, and on the fine grass beneath, it is
very pleasant. Woodcocks begin to come very thick about,
27. Fine broiler again. Some friends from England
here to-day. We spent a pleasant day ; drank success
to the Debt, and destruction to the Boroughmongers,
in gallons of milk and water. — Not morejiies than in
England.
28. Very, very hot. The Thermometer 85 degrees
in the shade ; but a breeze. Never slept better in all
my life. No covering. A sheet under me, and a straw
bed. And then so happy to have no clothes to put on
but shoes and trowsers ! My window looks to the East.
The moment the Aurora appears, I am in the Orchard.
It is impossible for any human being to lead a plea-
santer life than this. How i pity those, who are com
pelled to endure the stench of cities ; but, for those who
remain there without being compelled, I have no pity.
29. Still the same degree of heat. I measured a
water-melon runner, which grew eighteen inches in the
last 48 hours. The dews now are equal to showers ,•
Chap. I.J JOURNAL.— AUGUST. 23
1 frequently, in the morning, wash hands and face, feet
and legs, in the dew on the high grass. The Indian
Corn shoots up now so beautifully!
30. Still melting hot.
31. Same weather.
AUGUST.
1. Same weather. 1 take off two shirts a day
wringing wet, I have a clothes-horse to hang them on
to dry. Drink about 20 good tumblers of milk and
water every day. No ailments. Head always clear.
Go to bed by day-light very often. Just after the hens
go to roost, and rise again with them.
2. Hotter and hotter, I think ; but, in this weather
we always have our friendly breeze. — Not a single mus-
quito yet.
3. Cloudy and a little shattering of rain ; but not
enough to lay the dust.
4. Fine hot day.
5. A very little rain. Dried up in a minute. Planted
cabbages with dust running into the holes.
6. Fine hot day.
7. Appearances forebode rain. 1 have observed that
when rain is approaching, the stojies (which are the
rock stone of the country,) with which a piazza ad
joining the house is paved, get wet. This wet appears,
at first, at the top of each round stone, and then, by
degrees, goes all over it. Rain is sure to follow. It has
never missed ; and, which is very curious, the rain
lasts exactly as long as the stones take to get all over wet
before it comes ! The stones dry again before the rain
ceases. However, this foreknowledge of rain is of little
use here ; for, when it comes, it is sure to be soon gone ;
and to be succeeded by a sun, which restores all to rights.
I wondered, at first, why I never saw any baro
meters in people's houses, as almost every farmer has
them in England. But, I soon found, that they would
be, if perfectly true, of no use. Early pears ripe.
8. Fine rain. It comes pouring down.
9. Rain still, which has now lasted 60 hours.— Killed
a kmb, and, in order to keep it fresh, sunk it down into
the well. — The wind makes the Indian corn bend.
24 JOURNAL — AUGUST. [Part I.
10. Fine clear hot day. The grass, which was
brown the day before yesterday, is already beautifully
green. In one place, where there appeared no signs
of vegetation, the grass is two indies high.
11. Heavy rains at night.
12 & 13. Hot and close.
14. Hot and close. No breezes these three days.
15. Very hot indeed. 80 degrees in a North aspect
at 9 in the evening. Three wet shirts to-day. Obliged
to put on a dry shirt to go to bed in.
16. Very hot indeed. 85 degrees; the thermometer
hanging under the Locust-trees and swinging about with
the breeze. The dews are now like heavy showers.
17. Fine hot day. Very hot. I fight the Borough-
villans, stripped to my shirt, and with nothing on be
sides, but shoes and trowsers. Never ill ; no head
aches ; no muddled brains. The milk and water is a
great cause of this. L live on salads, other garden
vegetables, apple-puddings and pies, butter, cheese
(very good from Rhode Island) eggs, and bacon. Re
solved to have no more fresh meat, 'till cooler weather
comes. Those who have a mind to swallow, or be
swallowed by, flies, may eat fresh meat for me,
18. Fine and hot.
19. Very hot.
20. Very hot; but a breeze every day and night.
Buckwheat, sown 23d July, 9 inches high, and, poor
as the ground was, looks very well.
21 &22. Fine hot days.
23. Fine hot day. I have now got an English wo
man-servant, and she makes us famous apple-pud
dings. She says she has never read Peter Pindar's
account of the dialogue between the King and the Cot
tage-woman ; and yet she knows very well how to get
the apples within side of the paste. N. B. No man
ought to come here, whose wife and daughters cannot
make puddings and pies.
24, 25, & 26. Fine hot days.
27. Finehotday. Have not seen a cloud for many days.
28. Windy and rather coldish. Put on cotten stockings
and a waistcoat with sleeves. Do not like this weather.
Chap. I.] JOURNAL. — SEPTEMBER. 25
<29. Same weather. Do not like it.
$0. Fine and hot again. Give a great many apples
to hogs. Got some hazle-nuts in the wild grounds.
Larger than the English : and much about the same taste.
31. Fine hot day. Prodigious dews.
SEPTEMBER.
1 & G. Fine and hot.
3. Famously hot. Fine breezes. Began imitating the
Disciples, at least in their diet ; for, to-day we begaii
"plucking the ears of corn " in a patch planted in the
garden on the second of June. But, we, in imitation of
Pindar's pilgrim, take the liberty to boil our corn.
We shall not starve now.
4. Fine and hot. 83 degrees under the Locust-trees,
5. Very hot indeed, but fair, with our old breeze.
6. 7, & 8. Same weather.
9- Rather hotter. We amongst seven of us eat
about £5 ears of corn a-day. With me it wholly sup
plies the place of bread. It is the choicest gift of God
to man, in the way of food. I remember, that ARTHUR
YOUNG observes, that the proof of a good climateis that
Indian Corn comes to perfection in it. Our Corn is
very fine. I believe, that a wine-glass full of milk
might be squeezed out of one ear. No wonder the Dis
ciples were tempted to pluck it when they were hungry,
though it was on the Sabbath day !
10. Appearances for rain ; and, it is time ; for my
neighbours begin to cry out, and our rain-water cistern
begins to shrink. The well is there, to be sure; but, to
pull up water from 70 feet is no joke, while it requires
nearly as much sweat to get it up as we get water.
11. No rain ; but cloudy. 83 degrees in the shade.
12. Rain and very hot in the morning. Thunder and
heavy rain at night.
13. Cloudy and cool. Only 55 degrees in shade.
14. Cloudy and cool.
15., Fair and cool. Made afire to write by. Don't
like this weather.
".6. Rain, warm.
17. Beautiful day. Not very hot. Just like a fine
day in July in England after a rain.
26 JOURNAL. — OCTOBER. [Part. I.
18. Same weather. Wear stockings now and a
waistcoat and neck-handkerchief.
19. Same weather. Finished our Indian Corn, which,
on less than 4 rods, or perches, of ground, produced
447 ears. It was singularly well-cultivated. It was
the long yellow Corn. Seed given me by my excellent
neighbour, Mr. John Tredwell.
20. 21, &22. Same weather.
23. Cloudy and hotter.
24. Fine rain all last night, and until ten o'clock to
day.
25. Beautiful day.
26. Same weather. 70 degrees in shade. Hot as
the hot days in August in England.
27. Rain all last night.
28. Very fine and warm. Left off the stockings again.
29. Very fine, 70 degrees in shade.
30. Same weather.
4 OCTOBER.
1 . Same weather. Fresh meat keeps pretty well now.
2. Very fine ; but, there was a little frost this morn
ing, which did not, however, affect the late-sown Kid
ney Beans, which are as tender as the cucumber plant.
.3. Cloudy and warm.
4. Very fine and warm, 70 degrees in shade. The
apples are very fine. We are now cutting them and
quinces, to dry for winter use. My neighbours give me
quinces. We are also cutting up and drying peeches.
5. Very fine and warm. Dwarf Kidney beans very fine.
6. Very fine and warm. Cutting Buckwheat.
7. Very fine and warm. 6\5 degrees in shade at 7
o'clock this morning. Windy in the afternoon. The
wind is knocking down the fall-pipins for us. One
picked up to-day weighed 12 -| ounces avoirdupois
weight. The average weight is about 9 ounces, or,
perhaps, 10 ounces. This is the finest of all apples.
Hardly any core. Some none at all. The richness of
the pine-apple without the roughness. If the King
could have seen one of these in a dumpling ! This is
not the Newtown Pippin, which is sent to England in
Chap. I.] JOURNAL — OCTOBER. 27
such quantities. That is a winter apple. Very fine
at Christmas ; but far inferior to this fall-pippin, taking
them both in their state of perfection. It is useless
to send the trees to England, unless the heat of the
sun and the rains and tiie dews could be sent along with
the trees.
8. Very fine, 68 in shade.
9. Same weather.
10. Same weather, 59 degrees in shade. A little
white frost this morning. It just touched the tips of the
kidney bean leaves ; but, not those of the cucumbers
or melons, which are near fences.
11. Beautiful day. 61 degrees in shade. Have not
put on a coat yet. Wear thin stockings, or socks,
waistcoat with sleeves, and neckcloth. In New-York
market, Kidney Beans and Green peas.
12. Beautiful day. 70 degrees in shade.
13. Same wreather.
14. Rain. 50 degrees in shade. Like a fine, warm,
June rain in England.
15. Beautiful day. 56 degrees in shade. Here is a
mojith of October !
16. Same weather. 5 I degrees in shade.
17. Same weather, but a little warmer in the day.
A smart frost this morning. The kidney beans, cu
cumber and melon-plants, pretty much cut by it.
18. A little rain in the night. A most beautiful day.
54 degrees in shade. A June day for England.
1Q. A very white frost this morning. Kidney beans,
cucumbers, melons,' all demolished ; but a beautiful
day. 56 degrees in shade.
20. Another frost, and just such another day.
Threshing Buckwheat in field.
21. No frost. 58 degrees in shade.
22. Finest of English June days. 67 degrees in
shade.
23. Beautiful day. 70 degrees in shade. Very few
summers in England that have a day hotter than this.
It is this fine sun that makes the fine apples.
24. Same weather precisely. Finished Buckwheat
threshing and winnowing. The men have been away
28 JOURNAL.— OCTOBER. [Part. I.
at a horse-race ; so that it has laid out in the field,
partly threshed and partly not, for five days. If rain had
come, it would have been of no consequence. All
would have been dry again directly afterwards. What
a stew a man would be in, in England, if he had his
grain lying about out of doors in this way ! The cost
of threshing and winnowing 60 bushels was 7 dollars,
]/. I Is. 6d. English money, that is to say, 4s. a quarter,
or eight Winchester bushels. But, then, the carting
was next to nothing. Therefore, though the labourers
had a dollar a day each, the expense upon the whole,
was not so great as it would have been in England, So
much does the climate do !
^ 25. Rain. A warm rain, like a fine June rain in
England. 57 degrees in shade. The late frosts have
killed, or, at least, pinched the leaves of the trees; and
they are now red, yellow, russet, brown, or of a dying
green. Never was any thing so beautiful as the bright
sun, shining through these fine lofty trees upon the gay
verdure beneath.
£6. Rain. Warm. 58 degrees in shade. This is
the general Indian Corn harvest.
27. ^ Rain. Warm. 58 degrees in shade. Put on
coat, black hat, and black shoes.
28. Fine day. 56 degrees in shade. Pulled up a
Radish, that weighed 12 pounds ! 1 say, tive/ve, and
measured 2 feet 5 inches round. From -common Eng
lish seed.
29. Very fine indeed.
30. Very fine and warm.
31. Very fine. 54 degrees in shade. Gathered our
last lot of winter apples. >.
NOVEMBER.
1. Rain all the last night and all this day.
2. Rain still. 54 degrees in shade. Warm. Things
grow well. The grass veryjine and luxuriant.
3. Very fine indeed. 56 in shade. Were it not for
the colour of the leaves of the trees, all would look like
June in England.
4. Very, very fine. Never saw such pleasant wea
ther. Digging potatoes.
Chap. I.] JOURNAL. — NOVEMBER. 29
5. Same weather precisely.
6. A little cloudy, but warm.
7. Most beautiful weather ! 63 degrees in shade ;
N.13. This is November.
8. A little cloudy at night-fall. 68 degrees in shade;
that is to say, English Summer heat all but 7 degrees.
9 & 10. Very fine.
11. Very line. When I got up this morning, I
found the thermometer hanging on the Locust-trees,
dripping with dew, at 62 degrees. Left off my coat again.
12. Same weather. 69 degrees in shade.
13. Beautiful day, but cooler.
14. Same weather. 50 degrees in shade. The high
ways and paths as clean as a boarded floor ; that is to
say, from dirt or mud.
Id. Gentle rain. 53 in shade. Like a gentle rain in
May in England.
1(3. Gentle rain. Warm. 56 in shade. What a No
vember for an Englishman to see ! My white turnips
have grown almost the whole of their growth in this
month. The Swedish, planted late, grow surprisingly
now, and have a luxuriancy of appearance exceeding
any thing of the kind I ever saw. We have line loaved
lettuces ; endive, young onions, young radishes, cauli
flowers, with heads rive inches over. The rye-lields
grow beautifully. They have been food for cattle for a
month, or six weeks, past.
17. Cloudy. Warm.
18. Same weather. 55 degrees in shade.
19. Frost, and the ground pretty hard.
20. Very line indeed. Warm. 55 degrees in shade.
2 1 . Same weather.
22. Cold, damp air, and cloudy.
23. Smart frost at night.
24. 25, 26,6c27. Same. Warm in the day-time.
28 & 29. Same; but more warm in the day.
30. Fine warm and beautiful day ; no frost at night.
57 degrees in shade.
SO JOURNAL. — DECEMBER. [Part 1.
DECEMBER.
1. Same weather precisely ; but, we begin to fear
the setting-in of winter, and I am very busy in covering
up cabbages, mangel wurzel, turnips, beets, carrots,
parsnips, parsley, &,c. the mode of doing which (not less
useful in England than here, though not so indis
pensably necessary) shall be described when I come to
speak of the management of these several plants.
2. Fine warm rain. 56 in shade.
3. 4, 5, 6, 7, &- 8. Very fair and pleasant, but frost
sufficiently hard to put a stop to our getting up and
stacking turnips. Still, however, the cattle and sheep
do pretty well upon the grass which is long and dead.
Fatting oxen we feed with the greens of Ruta Baga, with
some corn (Indian, mind) tossed down to them in the
ear. Sheep (ewes that had lambs in spring) we kill
very fat from the grass. No dirt. What a clean and
convenient soil !
9- Thaw. No rain. We get on with our work again.
10. Open mild weather.
11. Same weather. Very pleasant.
12. Rain began last night.
13. Rain all day.
14. Rain all day. The old Indian remark is, tha t
the winter does not set in till the ponds be full. It is
coming, then.
15. Rain till 2 o'clock. We kill mutton now. Ewes
brought from Connecticut, and sold to me here at 2
dollars each in July, just after shearing. I sell them
now alive at 3 dollars each from the grass. Killed and
sent to market, they leave me the loose fat for candles,
and fetch about 3 dollars and a quarter besides.
16. Sharp North West wind. This is the cold Ame
rican Wind. "A No?*th Wester" means all that can be
imagined of clear in summer and cold in winter. 1
remember hearing from that venerable and excellent
man, Mr. BARON MASERES, a very elegant eulogium
on the Summer North Wester, in England. This is the
only public servant that { ever heard of, who refused a
profered augmentation of salary !
CHAP. I.] JOURNAL. — DECEMBER. 31
17. A hardish frost.
18. Open weather again.
19. Fine mild day ; but began freezing at night fall.
20. Hard frost.
21. Very sharp indeed. Thermometer down to 10
degrees ; that is to say, 22 degrees colder than barely
freezing.
22. Same weather. Makes us run, were we used
to walk in the fall, and to saunter in the summer. Jt is
no new thing to me ; but it makes our other English peo
ple shrug up their shoulders.
23. Frost greatly abated. Stones show for wet. It
will come, in spite of all the fine serene sky, which we
now see.
24. A thaw. Servants made a lot of candles from
mutton and beef fat, reserving the coarser parts to
make soap.
25. Rain. Had some English friends. Sirloin of
own beef. Spent the evening in light of own candles,
as handsome as ever I saw, and, t think, the very best
I ever saw. The reason is, that the tallow is fresh, and
that it is unmixed with grease, which, and staleness, is
the cause, I believe, of candles running, and plaguing
us while we are using them. What an injury is it to
the farmers in England, that they dare not, in this way,
use their own produce : Is it not a mockery to call a man
free, who no more dares turn out his tallow into can
dles for his own use, than he dares rob upon the high
way ? Yet, it is only by means of tyranny and extor
tion like this, that the hellish system of Funding and of
Seat-selling can be upheld.
26. Fine warm day. 52 degrees in shade.
27. Cold, but little frost.
28. Same weather. Fair and pleasant. The late
sharp frost has changed to a complete yellow every leaf
of some Swedish Turnips (Ruta Baga,) left to take
their chance. It is a poor chance, 1 believe '
29. Same \\eather.
30. Rain all day.
31. Mild and clear. No frost.
32 JOURNAL. —JANUARY, [Parti.
1818. JANUARY.
1 & 2. Same weather.
3. Heavy rain.
4. A frost that makes us jump and skip about like
larks. Very seasonable for a sluggish fellow. Prepar
ed for winter. Patched up a boarded building, which
was formerly a coach-house ; but, which is not so ne
cessary to me, in that capacity, as in that of a fowl-
house. The neighbours tell me, that the poultry will
roost out on the trees all the winter, which, the weather
being so dry in winter, is very likely ; and, indeed, they
must if they have no house, which is almost universally
the case. However, 1 mean to give the poor things a choice.
I have lined the said coach-house with corn stalks and
leaves of trees, and have tacked up cedar-boughs to
hold the lining to the boards, and have laid a bed of
leaves a foot thick all over the floor. I have se
cured all against dogs, and have made ladders for the
fowls to go in at holes six feet from the ground. I have
made pig-styes, lined round with cedar-boughs and well
covered. A sheep-yard, for a score of ewes to have
lambs in spring, surrounded with a hedge of cedar-
boughs, and with a shed for the ewes to lie under if they
like. The oxen and cows are tied up in a stall. The
dogs have a place, well covered, and lined with corn
stalks and leaves. And now I can, without anxiety,
sit by the tire, or lie in bed and hear the North- Wester
whistle.
5. Frost. Like what we call " a hard frost " in
England.
6. Such another frost at night, but a thaw in the
middle of the day.
7. Little frost. Fine warm day. The sun seems
loth to quit us.
8. Same weather.
9. A harder frost, and snow at night. The fowls
which have been peeping at my ladders for two or three
evenings, and partially roosting in their house, made
\\ie\i: general entry this evening ! They are the best
judges of what is best for them. The turkeys boldly set
Chap. I.] JOURNAL. — JANUARY. 33
the weather at defiance, and still roost on the top. the
ridge, of the roof of the house. Their feathers prevent
their legs from being frozen, and so it is with all poultry ;
but, still, a house must, one would think, be better than
the open air at this season.
10. Snow, but sloppy. I am now at New York on
my way to Pennsylvania. N. B. This journey into
Pennsylvania had, for its principal object, an appeal to
the justice of the Legislature of that State for redress for
great loss and injury sustained by me, nearly twenty
years ago, in consequence of the tyranny of one
M'Kean, who was then the Chief Justice of that State.
The appeal has not yet been successful ; but, as I
confidently expect, that it finally will, I shall not, at
present, say any thing more on the subject. My jour
ney was productive of much and various observation,
and, I trust, of useful knowledge. But in this place I
shall do little more than give an account of the weather •
reserving for the SECOND PART, accounts of prices of
land, &c. which will there come under their proper heads.
11. Frost, but not hard. Now at New York
12. Very sharp frost. Set off for Philadelphia.
Broke down on the road in New Jersey.
13. Very hard frost still. Found the Delaware
which divides New Jersey from Pennsylvania, frozen
over. Good roads now. Arrived at Philadelphia in the
evening.
14. Same weather.
15. Same weather. The question eagerly put to me
by every one in Philadelphia is , " Don't you think the
city greatly improved.'" They seeju to me to con
found augmentation with improvement. It always was
a fine city, since I first knew it; and it is very greatly
augmented. It has, I believe, nearly doubled its ex
tent and number of houses since the year 1799. But,
after being, for so long a time, familiar with London,
every other pla; e appears little. After living within a
few hundreds of yards of Westminster-Hall and the
Abbey Church and the bridge, and looking from my
own windows into St. James's Park, all other buildings
and spots appear mean and insignificant I went to
B5
34 JOURNAL. — JANUARY. [Part I.
day to see the house 1 formerly occupied. How small 1
It is always thus : the words large and small are carried
about with us in our minds, and we forget real dimen
sions. The idea, such as it was received, remains during
our absence from the object. When 1 returned to Eng
land, in 1800, after an absence from the country parts
of it, of sixteen years, the trees, the hedges, even the
parks and woods, seemed so small! It made me laugh
to hear little gutters, that I could jump over, called
Rivers! The Thames was but a " Creek!" But,
when, in about a month after my arrival in London, I
went to Fatnhafti, the place of my birth, what was my
surprise ! Every thing was become so pitifully small! I
had to cross, in my post-chaise, the long and dreary heath
of Bagshot. Then, at the end of it, to mount a hill, called
Hungry Hill; and from that hill I knew that I should
look down into the beautiful and fertile vale of Farn-
ham. My heart fluttered with impatience, mixed with
a sort of fear, to see all the scenes of my childhood ;
for J had learnt before, the death of my father and
mother. There is a hill, not far from the town, called
Crooksbury Hill, wrhich rises up out of a Hat, in the
form of a cone, and is planted with Scotch fir-trees.
Here I used to take the eggs and young ones of crows
and magpies. This hill was a famous object in the
neighbourhood. It served as the superlative degree of
height. " As high as Crooksbury Hill" meant, with us,
the utmost degree of height. Therefore, the first object
that my eyes sought was this hill. / could not believe
my eyes ! Literally speaking, I, for a moment, thought
the famous hill removed, and a little heap put in its
stead ; for 1 had seen in New Brunswick, a single rock,
or hill of solid rock, ten times as big, and four or five
times as high ! The post-boy, going down hill, and not
a bad road, whisked me, in a few minutes to the Bush
Inn, from the garden of which I could see the prodi
gious sand hill, where I had begun my gardening works.
What a nothing! But now came rushing into my
mind, all at once, my pretty little garden, my little blue
smock-frock, my little nailed shoes, my pretty pigeons,
that I used to feed out of my hands, the last kind words
Chap. J.j JOURNAL. — JANUARY. So
and tears of my gentle and tender-hearted and affec
tionate mother ! 1 hastened back into the room. If I
had looked a moment longer, I should have dropped.
When L came to reflect, what a change ! I looked down
at my dress. What a change ! What scenes I had gone
through ! How altered my state ! 1 had dined the day
before at the Secretary of State's in company with Mr.
Pitt, and had been waited upon by men in gaudy live
ries ! 1 had had nobody to assist me in the world. No
teachers of any sort. Nobody to shelter me from the
consequence of bad, and no one to counsel me to good,
behaviour. I felt proud, The distinctions of rank, birth,
and wealth, all became nothing in my eyes ; and from
that moment (less than a month after my arrival in
England) I resolved never to bend before them.
16. Same weather. Wrent to see my old Quaker-
friends at Bustleton, and particularly my beloved friend
JAMES PAUL, who is very ill.
17. Returned to Philadelphia. Little frost and a
little snow.
18. 19, 20, & 21. Moderate frost. Fine clear sky.
The Philadelphians are cleanly, a quality which they
owe chiefly to the Quakers. But, after being long and
recently familiar with the towns in Surrey *and Hamp
shire, and especially with Guildford, Alton, and South
ampton, no other towns appear clean and neat, not even
Bath or Salisbury, which last is much about upon a par,
in point of cleanliness, with Philadelphia ; and, Salis
bury is deemed a very cleanly place. Blanford and
Dorchester are clean ; but, I have never yet seen any
thing like the towns in Surrey and Hampshire. If a
Frenchman, born and breed, could be taken up and
carried blindfold to Guildford, I wonder what his sensa
tions would be, when he came to have the use of his
sight ! Every thing near Guildford seems to have received
an influence from the town. Hedges, gates, stiles, gar
dens, houses inside and out, and the dresses of the peo
ple. The market day at Guildford is a perfect show of
cleanliness. Not even a carter without aclean smock -
frock and closely-shaven and clean-washed face. Well
may Mr. Birkbeck, who came from this very spot, think
the people dirty in t^e western country ! I'll engage
36 JOURNAL. — JANUARY. [Part 1.
he finds more dirt upon the necks and faces of one
family of his present neighbours, than he left behind
him upon the skins of all the people in the three parishes
of Guihiford. However, he would not have found this
to be the case in Pennsylvania, and especially in those
parts where the Quakers abound ; and, I am told, that,
in the New England States, the people are as cleanly
and as neat as they are in England. The sweetest
fjowers, when they become putrid, stink the most ; and,
a nasty woman is the nastiest thing in nature.
22. Hard frost. My business in Pennsylvania is with
the legislature. It is sitting at Harisburgh... Set off
t'j-day by stage. Fine country; fine barns ; line farms.
Must speak particularly of these in another place. Got
to Lancaster. The largest inland town in the United
States. A very clean and good town. No beggarly
Louses. All look like ease and plenty.
23. Harder frost, but not very severe. Almost as
ccld as the weather \vas during the six weeks' conti
nuance of the snow, in 1814, in England.
24. The same weather continues.
2,3. A soi t of half thaw. Sun warm. HARISBURGII
is a new town, close on the left bank of the river Sus-
QUEHANN/UI, which is not frozen over, but has large
quantities of ice floating on its waters. All vegetation,
and all appearance of green gone away.
2(). Mild weather. Hardly any frost.
27. Thaws. Warm. Tired to death of the tavern
at HARISBURGH, though a very good one. The cloth
spread three times a day. Fish, fowl, meat, cakes, eggs,
sausages ;, ail sorts of things in abundance. Board,
loding, civil but not servile wating on, beer, tea coffee,
chocolate. Price, a dollar and a quarter a day. Here
we meet altogether : senators, judges, lawyers, trades
men, farmers, and all. I am weary of the everlasting
loads of meat. Weary of being idle. How few such
days have I spent in my whole life !
28. Thaw and ra-n. My business not coming on, I
went to a country tavern, hoping there to get a room to
myself, in which to read my English papers, and sit
down to writing. I am now at M( Allister's tavern, si
tuated at the foot of the first ridge of mountains ; or
Chap. I.] JOURNALS—FEBRUARY. 37
rather, upon a little nook of land, close to the river,
where the river has found a way through a break in the
chain of mountains. Great enjoyment here. Sit and
read and write. My mind is again in England. Mrs.
MCALLISTER just suits me. Does not pester me with
questions. Does not cram me with meat. Lets me eat
and drink what I like, and when I like, and givgs.uiugs
of nice milk. I rind, here, a very agreeable and in
structive occasional companion, in Mr. M'ALLISTER
the elder. Bat, of the various useful information that
1 received from him, 1 must speak in the SECOND
PART of this work.
29. Very hard frost . this morning. Change very
sudden. Ail about the house a glare of ice.
30. Not so hard. Icicles on the trees on the neigh
bouring mountains like so many millions of sparkling-
stones, when the sun shines, which is all the day.
31. Same weather. Two farmers of Lycoming county
had heard that William' Cobbett was here. They mo
destly introduced themselves. What a contrast with
the tlyeomanry cavalry !"
FEBRUARY.
1 & Q. Same weather. About the same as a " hard
frost" in England.
3. Snow.
4. Little snow. Not much frost. This day, thirty-
three years ago, I enlisted as a soldier. 1 always keep
the day in recollection.
o. Having been to Harrisburgh on the second, re
turned to McAllister's to-day in a sleigh. The River
begins to be frozen over. It is about a mile wide.
6. Little snow again, and ahardish frost.
7. Now and then a little snow. — Talk with some hop-
growers. Prodigious crops in this neighbourhood ; but
of them in the SECOND PART. What would a Farn-
liam man think of thirty hundred weight of hops upon
four hundred hills ploughed between, and the ground
vines fed of by sheep! This is a very curious and in
teresting matter.
8. A real frost.
38 JOURNAL.— FEBRUARY. [Parti.
9. Sharper. They say, that the thermometer is
down to 10 degrees below nought.
10. A little milder; but very cold indeed. The
river completely frozen over, and sleighs and foot pas
sengers crossing in all directions.
1 1 . Went back again to Harrisburgh. Mild frost.
12. Not being able to bear the idea of dancing at
tendance) came to Lancaster, in order to see more of
this pretty town. A very fine Tavern (Slaymaker's) ;
room to myself ; excellent accommodations. Warm tires.
Good and clean beds. Civil but not servile, landlord.
The eating still more overdone than at Harrisburgh.
Never saw such profusion. 1 have made a bargain
with the landlord : he is to give me a dish of chocolate
a day instead of dinner. Frost, but mild.
13. Rain. — A real rain, but rather cold.
14. A complete day of rain.
15. A hard frost, much about like a hard frost in the
naked parts of Wiltshire. — Mr. HULME joined me on
his way to Philadelphia from the city of Washington.
16. A hard frost. — Lancaster is a pretty place. No
fine buildings; but no mean ones. Nothing splendid
and nothing beggarly. The people of this town seem
to have had the prayer of HAGAR granted them : " Give
me, O Lord, neither poverty nor riches." Here are
none of those poor, wretched habitations, which sicken
the sight at the out-skirts of cities and towns in England ;
those abodes of the poor creatures, who have been
reduced to beggary by the cruel extortions of the rich
and powerful. And, this remark applies to all the towns
of America that I have ever seen. This is a fine part
of America. Big barns, and modest dwelling houses.
Barns of stone a hundred feet long and forty wide, with
two floors, and raised roads to go into them, so that the
waggons go into the first floor up-stairs. Below are
stables, stalls, pens, and all sorts of conveniences. Up
stairs are rooms for threshed corn and grain ; for tackle,
for meal, for all sorts of things. In the front (South) of
the barn is the cattle yard. .These are very fine build
ings. And, then, all about them looks so comfortable,
and gives such manifest proofs of ease, plenty, and hap
piness ! Such is the country of \Y'i LLTAM Prix's, set-
Chap. I] JOURNAL. — FEBRUARY. 39
tling! it is a curious thing' to observe the farm-houses
in this country. They consist, almost without excep
tion, of a considerably large and a very neat house,
with sash windows, and of a small house, which seems
to have been tacked on to the large one ; and, the pro
portion they bear to each other, in po.nt of dimen
sions, is, r?s nearly as possible, the proportion of size
between a cow and her calf, the latter a month old. But,
as to the cause, the process has been the opposite of
this instance of the works of nature, for it is the large
house which has grown out of the small one. The fa
ther, or grandfather, while he was toiling for his chil
dren, lived in the small house, constructed chiefly by him
self, and consisting of rude materials. The means, ac
cumulated in the small house, enabled a son to rear the
large one ; and, though, when pride enters the door,
the small house is sometimes demolished, few sons in
America have the folly or want of feeling to commit
such acts of filial ingratitude, and of real self-abasment.
For, what inheritance so valuable and so honourable can
a son enjoy as the proofs of his father's industry and
virtue ? The progress of wealth and ease and enjoy
ment, envinced by this regular increase of the size of
the farmer's dwellings, is a spectacle, at once pleasing,
in a very high degree, in itself, and, in the same degree, it
speaks the praise of the system of goverment, under which
it has taken place. What a contrast with the farm-houses
in England ! There the little farm-houses are falling into
ruins, or, are actually become cattle-sheds, or, at best,
cottages, as they are called, to contain a miserable la
bourer, who ought to have been a farmer, as his grand
father was. Five or six farms are there now levelled
into one, in defiance of the law ; for, there is a law to
prevent it. The farmer, h&s, indeed, a fine house ;
but, what a life do his labourers lead ! The cause of this
sad change is to Jbe found in the crushing taxes ; and
the cause of them, in the Borough usurpation, which
has robbed the people of their best right, and, indeed,
without which right they can enjoy no other. They talk
of the augmented population of England ; and, when
it suits the purpose of the tyrants, they boast of this
40 JOURNAL. — FEBRUARY. [Part I.
fact, as they are pleased to call it, as a proof of the
fostering nature of their government ; though, just now,
they are preaching up the vile and foolish doctrine of
PARSON MALTHUS, who thinks, that there are too
menu/ people, that they ought (those who labour, at
least) to be restrained from breeding so fast. But, as
to the fact, f do not believe it. There can b<^ nothingin
the shape of proof; for no actual enumeration was ever
taken till the year 1 800. \Ve know well, that London,
Manchester, Birmingham, Bath, Portsmouth, Plymouth,
and all Lancashire and Yorkshire, and some other coun
ties, have got a vast increase of miserable beings hud
dled together. But, look at Devonshire, Somei set-
shire, Dorsetshire, Wiltshire, Hampshire, and other
counties. You will there see hundreds of thousands of
acres of land, where the old marks of the plough are
visible, but which have not been cultivated for, perhaps,
half a century. You will there see places, that were
once considerable towns and villages, now having, within
their anctient limits, nothing but a few cottages, the
Parsonage and a single Farm-house. It is a curious
and a melancholy sight, where an ancient church, with
its lofty spire or tower ; the church sufficient to contain
a thousand or two or three thousand of people conve
niently, now stands surrounded by a score, or half a
score of miserable mud-houses, with floors of earth,
and covered with thatch ; and this sight strikes your
eye in all parts of the five Western counties of England.
Surely these churches were not built without the exist
ence of a population somewhat proportionate to their
size ! Certainly not ; for the churches are of various
sizes, and, we sometimes see them very small indeed.
Let any man look at the sides of the hills in these coun
ties, and also in Hampshire, where downs, or open lands,
prevail. He will there see, not only that those hills
were formerly cultivated ; but that bcnks, from distance
to distance, were made by the spade, in order to form
little flats for the plough to go, without tumbling the
earth down the bill ; so that the side of a hill looks, in
some sort, like the steps of a stairs. Was this done,
without hands, and without mouths to consume the
Chap. 1.] JOURNAL. — FEBRUARY. 41
grain raised on the sides of these hills ? The Fund
ing and Manufacturing and Commercial and Taxing
System has, by drawing wealth into great masses, drawn
n?en also into great masses. London, the manufactur
ing places, Bath, and other places of dissipation, have,
indeed, wonderfully increased in population. Country-
seats, Parks, Pleasure-gardens, have, in like degree,
increased in number and extent. And, in just the same
proportion has been the increase of Poor-houses, Mad
houses, and Jails. But the people of England) such as
FORTESCUE described them, have been swept away by
the ruthless hand of the Aristocracy, who, making their
approaches by slow degrees, have, at last got into their
grasp the substance of the whole country.
1 7. Frost, not very hard. Went back to Harrisburgh.
18. Same weather. Very fine. Warm in the mid
dle of the day.
19- Same weather — Quitted Harrisburgh, very much
displeased; but, on this subject, 1 shall, if possible,
keep silence, till next year, and until the People of
Pennsylvania have had time to reflect; to clearly under
stand my affair ; and when they do understand it, I am
not at ail afraid of receiving justice at their hands, whe
ther I am present or absent. Slept at Lancaster. One
night more in this very excellent Tavern.
20. Frost still. Arrived at Philadelphia along with
my friend HULME. They are roasting an ox on the
Delaware. The fooleries of England are copied here,
and every were in this country, with wonderful avidity ;
and I wish I could say, that some of the vices of our
" higher orders," as they have the impudence to call
themselves, were not also imitated. However, I look
principally at the mass of farmers ; the sensible and
happy farmers of America.
21. Thaw and Rain. — The severe weather is over
for this year.
22. Thaw and Rain. A solid day of rain.
23. Little frost at night. Fine market. Fine meat
of all sorts. As fat mutton as I ever saw. How mis
taken Mr. Birkbeck is about American mutton!
24. Same weather. Very fair days now.
42 JOURNAL — FEBRUARY. [Parti.
25. Went to Bustleton with my old friend, Mr. John
Morgan.
2(3. Returned to Philadelphia. Roads very dirty and
heavy.
27. Complete thaw ; but it will be long before the
frost be out of the ground.
28. Same weather. Very warm. I hate this wea
ther. Hot upon my back, and melting ice under my
feet. The people (those who have been lazy) are
chopping away with axes the ice, which has grown out
of the snows and rains, before their doors during the
winter. The hogs (best of scavengers) are very busy
in the streets seeking out the bones and bits of meat,
which have been flung out and frozen down amidst water
and snow, during the two foregoing months. I mean
including the present month. At NewYork (and I think
at Philadelphia also) they have corporation laws to pre
vent hogs from being in the streets. For what reason,
I know not, except putrid meat be pleasant to the smell
of the inhabitants. But, Corporations are seldom the
wisest of lawmakers. It is argued, that, if there were
no hogs in the streets, people would not throw out their
orts of flesh and vegetables. Indeed! What would
they do with those orts, then? Make their hired servants
eat them ? The very proposition would leave them to
cook and wash for themselves. Where, then, are they
to fling these effects of superabundance? Just before 1
left New York for Philadelphia, I saw a sow very com
fortably dining upon a full quarter part of what ctppear-
ed to have been a Jine leg of mutton. How many a
family in England would if within reach, have seized
this meat from the sow ! And, are the tyrants, who
have brought my industrious countrymen to that horrid
state of misery, never to be called to account? Are
they always to carry it as they now do ? Every object
almost, that strikes my view, send my mind and heart
back to England. In viewing the ease and happiness
of this people, the contrast tills my soul with indigna
tion, and makes it more and more the object of my life
to assist in the destruction of the diabolical usurpation,
which has trampled on king as well as people.
Chap. I.] JOURNAL. — MARCH. 43
MARCH.
I. Rain. Dined with my old friend SEVERNE, an
honest Norfolk man, who used to carry his milk about
the streets, when I first knew him, but, who is now a
man of considerable property, and, like a wise man,
lives in the same modest house where he formerly lived.
Excellent roast beef and plum pudding. At his house
1 found an Englishman, and from Hotley too ! I had
been told of such a man being in Philadelphia, and
that the man said, that he had heard of me, "heard of
such a gentleman, but did not know much of him." This
was odd ! 1 was desirous of seeing this man. Mr. SE
VERNE got him to his house. His name is VERE. I
knew him the moment I saw him ; and, I wondered why
it was that he knew so little of me. 1 found, that he
wanted work, and that he had been assisted by some so
ciety in Philadelphia. He said he was lame, and he might
be a little, perhaps. I offered him work at once. No:
he wanted to have the care of a farm ! "Go," said I,
" for shame, and ask some farmers for work. You will
" find it immediately, and with good wages. What
" should the people in this country see in your face to
"induce them to keep you in idleness? They did not
" send for you. You are a young man, and you come
" from a country of able labourers. You may be rich
" if you will work. This gentleman who is now about to
" cram you with roast beef and plum pudding came to
" this city nearly as poor as you are ; and, 1 first came
" to this country in no better plight. Work, and I
"svish you well ; be idle, and you ought to starve." He
told me, then, that he was a hoop-maker ; and yet,
observe, he wanted to have the care of a farm.
N. 13. If this book should ever reach the hands of
Mr. RICHARD HINXMAN, my excellent good friend of
Chilling, I beg him to show this note to Mr. NICHOLAS
FREEM ANTLE of Botley. He will know well all about
this VERE. Tell Mr. FREEMANTLE, that the Spaniels
are beautiful, that Woodcocks breed here in abundance :
and tell him, above all, that I frequently think of him
as a pattern of industry in business, of skill and per
severance and good humour as a sportsman, and of
44 JOURNAL — MARCH. [Part J.
honesty and kindness as a neighbour. Indeed, I have
pleasure in thinking of all my Bolley neighbours, ex
cept the Parson, who for their sakes, I wish, however, was
my neighbour now; for here he might pursue his cal
ling very quietly.
2. Open weather. Went to Bus tie ton, after having
seen Messrs. STEVENS and PEN DRILL, and advise
them to forward to me affidavits of what they knew
about OLIVER, the spy of the Boroughmongers.
3. Frost in the morning. Thaw in the day.
4. Same weather in the night. Rain all day.
5. Hard frost. Snow three inches deep.
6. Hard frost. About as cold as a hard frost in Ja
nuary in England.
7. Same weather.
8. Thaw. Dry and fine
9. Same weather. Took leave, I fear for ever, of my
old and kind friend, JAMES PAUL. His brother and son
promised to come and see me here, i have pledged my
self to transplant 10 acres of Indian Corn ; and, if I
write, in August, and say that it is good, THOMAS PA UL
has promised that he will come ; for, he thinks that the
scheme is a mad one.
10. Same weather. — Mr. VAREE, a son-in-law of Mr.
JAMES PAUL, brought me yesterday to another son-in-
law's, Mr. EZRA TOWNSHEND at BIBERY. Here I am
amongst the thick of the Quakers, whose houses and fa
milies pleased me so much formerly, and which pleasure
is all now revived. Here all is ease, plenty and cheerful
ness. These people are never giggling, and never in low-
spirits. Their minds, like their dress, are simple and
strong. Their kindness is shown more in acts than in
words. Let others say what they will, i have uniformly
found those whom I have intimately known of this sect,
sincere and upright men ; and I verily believe, that all those
charges of hypocrisy and craft, that we hear against Qua
kers, arise from a feeling of envy ; envy inspired by seeing
them possessed of such abundance of all those things,
which are the fair fruits of care, industry, economy, sobri
ety and order, and which are justly forbidden to the drunk
ard, the glutton, the prodigal, and the lazy. As the day
Chap. I. J JOURNAL. — MARCH. 45
of my coming to Mr. To WN8H END'S bad beenannoun-
ced beforehand, several of the young men, who were babies
when 1 used to be there formerly, came to see " BILLY
COBBETT," of whom they had heard and read so much.
When I saw them and heard them, " what a contrast, "
said I to myself, "with the senseless, gaudy, upstart
" hectoring, insolent, and cruel Yeomanry Cavalry in
"England, who, while they grind their labourers into
" the revolt of starvation, gallantly sally forth with their
" sabres, to chop them down at the command of a Se-
" cretary of State; and, who, the next moment, creep
" and fawn like spaniels before their Boroughmonger
" Landlords !" At Mr. TOWNSHEND'S I saw a man, in
his service, lately from YORKSHIRE, but an Irishman by
birth. He wished to have an opportunity to see me, He
had read many of my" little books." I shook him by the
hand, told him he had now got a good house over his
head and a kind employer, and advised him not to move
for one year, and to save his wages during that year.
1 1 . Same open weather. — J am now at Trenton, in
New Jersey, waiting for something to carry me on to
wards New York. Yesterday, Mr. TOWNSHEND sent
me on, under an escort of Quakers, to Mr. ANTHONY
TAYLOR'S. He was formerly a merchant in philadel-
phia, and now lives in his very pretty country-house, on
a very beautiful farm. He has some as fine and fat
oxen as we generally see at Smithfield market in Lon
don. 1 think they will weigh sixty score each. Fine
farm yard. Everything belonging to the farm good,
but what a neglectful gardener ! Saw some white thorns
here (brought from England) which, if I had wanted
any proof, would have clearly proved to me, that they
would, with less care, make as good hedges here as they
do at Farnham in Surrey. But in another PART, i
shall give full information upon this head. Here my es
cort quitted me; but, luckily, Mr. NEWBOLD, who lives
about ten miles nearer Trenton than Mr. Taylor does,
brought me on to his house. He is a much better gar
dener, or, rather, to speak the truth, has succeeded a
better, whose example he has followed in part. But
his farm yard and buildings ! This was a sight indeed !
46 JOURNAL. — MARCH. [Part. I.
Forty head of horn-cattle in a yard, enclosed with a
stone wall; and five hundred merino ewes, besides
young lambs, in the finest, most spacious, best contrived,
and most substantially built sheds I ever saw. The barn
surpassed all that IJiad seen before. His house (large,
commodi ous, and handsome) stands about two hun
dred yards from the turnpike road, leading from Phila
delphia to New York, and looks on and over the De
laware which runs parallel with the road, and has sur
rounding it, and at the back of it, five hundred acres of
land, level as a lawn, and two feet deep in loam, that
never requires a water furrow. This was the finest sight
that I ever saw as to farm-buildings and land. I forgot
to observe, that I saw in Mr. TAYLOR'S service, another
man recently arrived from England. A Yorkshire man.
He too wished to see me. He had got some of My " little
books," which he had preserved, and brought out with
him. Mr. TAYLOR was much pleased with him. An
active, smart man ; and, if he follow my advice, to re
main a year under one roof, and save his wages, he will,
in a fewyears be a rich man. These men must be brutes
indeed not to be sensible of the great kindness and gen
tleness and liberality, with which they are treated. Mr.
TAYLOR came this morning, to Mr. NEWBOLD'S, and
brought me on to TRENTON, i-am at the stage-tavern,
where I have just dined upon cold ham, cold veal, butter
and cheese, and apeach-pye ; nice clean room, well fur
nished, waiter clean and attentive, plenty of milk ; and
charge a quarter of a dollar ! I thought, that Mrs. J os-
L.IN at Princes-town (as I went on to Philadelphia,) Mrs.
BENLERatHarrisburgh, Mr. SLAYMAJLER at Lancas
ter, and Mrs. MCALLISTER, were low enough in all con
science ; but, really, this charge of Mrs. ANDERSON
beats all. I had not the face to pay the waiter a quarter of
a dollar; but gave him half a dollar, and told him to keep
the change. He is a black man. He thanked me. But
they never ask for any thing. But, my vehicle is come,
and now 1 bid adieu to Trenton, which i should have
liked better, if I had not seen so many young fellows
lounging about the streets, and leaning against door
posts, with quids of tobacco in their mouths, or segars
Chap. I. JOURNAL. — MARCH. 47
stuck between their lips, and with dirty hands and faces.
Mr. Birkbeck's complaint, on this score,is perfectly just.
Brunswick, New Jersey. Here I am, after a ride of
about 30 miles, since two o'clock, in what is called a
Jersey-waggon, through such mud as I never saw be
fore. Up to the stock of the wheel ; and yet a pair of
very little horses have dragged us through it in the space
of jive hours. The best horses and driver, and the worst
roads I ever set my eyes on. This part of Jersey is a
sad spectacle, after leaving the brightest of all the bright
parts of Pennsylvania. My driver, who is a tavern-
keeper himself, would have been a very pleasant com
panion, if he had not drunk so much spirits on the road.
This is the great misfortune of America ! As we were
going up a hill very slowly, I could perceive him look
ing very hard at my cheek for some time. At last, he
said: " I am wondering, Sir, to see you look so fresh
" and so young, considering what you have gone through
" in the world ;" though I cannot imagine how he had
learnt who I was, " I'll tell you," said I, 6t how I
" have contrived the thing. I rise early, go to bed
" early, eat sparingly, never drink any thing stronger
" than small beer, shave once a day, and wash my hands
" and face clean three times a day, at the very least."
He said that was too much to think of doing.
12. Warm and fair. Like an English Jirst of Mai/
in point of warmth. I got to Elizabeth Town Point
through beds of mud. Twenty minutes too late for the
steam-boat. Have to wait here at the tavern till to-mor
row. Great mortification. Supped with a Connecticut
farmer who was taking on his daughter to Little York
in Pennsylvania. The rest of his family he took on in
the fall. He has migrated. His reasons were these :
he has five sons, the eldest 19 years of age, and several
daughters. Connecticut is thickly settled. He has
not the means to buy farms for the sons there. He, there
fore, goes and gets cheap land in Pennsylvania ; his
sons will assist him to clear it ; and, thus, they will have
a farm each. To a man in such circumstances, and
" born with an axe in one hand, and a gun in the other,"
the western countries are desirable; but not to English
48 JOURNAL. — MARCH. [Part I.
farmers, who have great skill in fine cultivation, and
who can purchase near New York or Philadelphia.
This YANKEE (the inhabitants of Connecticut, Rhode
Island, Massachusetts and New Hampshire, only, are
cal ed Yankees) was about the age of Mr FRANCIS
BURDETT, and, if he had been dressed in the usual
clothes of Sir Francis, would have passed for him.
Features, hair, eyes, height, make, manner, look, hasty
utterance at times, musical voice, frank deportment,
pleasant smile. All the very fac-simile of him. I had
some early York cabbage-seed and some cauliflower-
seed in my pocket, which had been sent me from Lon
don, in a letter, and which had reached me at Harris-
burgh. I could not help giving him a little of each.
13. Same weather. A fine open day. Rather a
cold May-day for England. Came to new York by
the steam-boat. Over to this island by another, took a
little light wagon, that wished me home over roads as
dry and as smooth as gravel walks in an English bishop's
garden in the month of July. Great contrast with the
bottomless muds of New Jersey ! As I came along,
saw those fields of rye, which were so green in Decem
ber, now white. Not a single sprig of green on the
face of the earth. Found that my man had ploughed
ten acres of ground. The frost not quite clean out of
the ground. It has penetrated two feet eight inches.
The weather here has been nearly about the same as in
Pennsylvania; only less snow and less rain.
14. Open weather. Very fine. Not quite so warm.
15. Same weather. Young chickens. I hear of no
other in the neighbourhood. This is the effect of my
warm fowl-house ! The house has been supplied with
eggs all the winter, without any interruption. I am
told, that this has been the case at no other house here
abouts. We have now an abundance of eggs. More
than a large family can consume. We send some to mar
ket. The fowls, 1 find, have wanted no feeding except
during the snow, or, in the very, very cold days, when
they did not come out of their house all the day. A
certain proof that they like the warmth.
16. Little frost in the morning. Very fine day.
Chap. I.] JOURNAL. — MARCH. 49
17. Precisely same weather.
18 & 19. Same weather.
20. Same weather. Opened several pits, in which I
had preserved all sorts of garden-plants and roots, and
apples. Valuable experiments. As useful in England
as here, though not so absolutely necessary. 1 shall com
municate these in another part of my work, under the
head of Gardening.
C2 1 . Same weather. The day like a fine May-day in
England. I am writing without tire, and in my waist
coat without coat.
22. Rain all last night, and all this day.
23. Mild and fine. A sow had a litter of pigs in the
leaves under the trees. Judge of the weather by this.
The wind blows cold ; but she has drawn together
great heaps of leaves, and protects her young ones with
surprising sagacity and exemplary care and fondness.
24. Same weather.
2,5. Still mild and fair.
26. Very cold wind. We try to get the sow and pigs
into the buildings. But the pigs do not follow7 and we
cannot, with all our temptations of corn and all our
caresses, get the sow to move without them by her side.
She must remain 'till they choose to travel. How does
nature, through the conduct of this animal, reproach
those mothers, who cast off their new-born infants to de
pend on a hireling's breast ! Let every young man, be
fore he marry, read, upon this subject, the pretty poem
of Mr. ROSCOE, called " the NURSE;" and, let him
also read, on the same subject, the eloquent, beautiful,
and soul-affecting passage, in Rousseau's " Emile.1'
27. Fine warm day. Then high wind, rain, snow,
and hard frost before morning.
28. Hard frost. Snow 3 inches deep.
29- Frost in the night ; but, all thawed in the day,
and very warm.
30. Frost in night. Fine warm day.
31. Fine warm day. As the winter is no\v gone, let
us take a look back at its inconveniences compared with
those of an English Winter. We have had three
months of it ; for, if we had a few sharp days in De-
c
oO JOURNAL. — MARCH. [Pait I.
cember, we have had many very fine and without Jire in
March. In England, winter really begins in Novem
ber, and does not end 'till Mid-March. Here we have
greater cold; there, four times as much wet. I have
had my great coat on only twice, except when sitting
in a stage, travelling. I have had gloves on no
oftener ; for, I do not, like the Clerks of the House of
Boron ghmongers, write in gloves. I seldom meet a
wagoner with gloves or great coat on. It is generally so
dry. This is the great friend of man and beast. Last
summer I wrote home for nails to nail my shoes for whi
ter. I could find none here. What a foolish people,
not to have shoe-nails ! I forgot, that it was likely, that
the absence of shoe-nails argued an absence of the want
of them. The nails are not come ; and I have not want
ed them. There is 7*0 dirt, except for about ten days
at the breaking up of the frost. The dress of a la
bourer does not cost half so much as in England. This
dry ness is singularly favourable to all animals. They
are hurt far less by dry cold, than by warm drip, drip,
drip, as it is in England. There has been nothing green
in the garden, that is to say, above ground, since De
cember : but we have had, all winter, and have now,
white cabbages, green savoys, parsnips, carrots, bee.ts,
young onions, radishes, white turnips, Swedish turnips
and potatoes ; and all these in abundance (except ra
dishes, which were a few to try,} and always at hand at
a minute's warning. The modes of preserving will
be given in another part of the work. What can any body
want more than these things in the garden way ? How
ever, it would be very easy to add to the catalogue.
Apples, quinces, cherries, currants, peaches, dried in
the Summer, and excellent for tarts and pies. Apples in
their raw state, a many as we please. My own stock
being gone, I have trucked turnips for apples ; and shall
thus have them, if I please, 'till apples come again on
the trees. I give two bushels and a half of Swedish
turnips for one of apples : and, mind, this is on the last
day of March. 1 have here stated facts, whereby to
judge of the winter ; and I leave the English reader to
judge for himself, I myself decidedly preferring the
American winter.
Chap. 1.] JOURNAL. — APRIL. ol
APRIL.
I . Very fine and warm.
2 & 3. Same weather.
4. Rain all day.
.5. Rain all day. Our cistern and pool full.
6. Warm, but no sun. Turkeys begin to lay.
7. Same weather. My first spring operations in gar
dening are now going on; but 1 must reserve an ac
count of them for another Part of my work,
8. Warm and fair.
9. Rain and rather cold.
10. Fair but cold. It rained but yesterday, and we
are to-day feeding sheep and lambs with grain of corn,
and with oats, upon the ground in the orchard. Judge,
then, of the cleanness and convenience of this soil !
I 1. Fine and warm,
12 & 13. Warm and fair.
14. Drying wind and miserably cold. Fires again
in day time, which I have not had for some days past.
15. Warm, like a fine May-day in England. We are
planting out selected roots for seed.
16. Rain all last night. Warm. Very fine indeed.
17. Fine warm day. Heavy thunder and rain "at
night. The Martins (not swallows) are come into the
barn, and are. looking out sites for the habitations of
their future young ones.
18. Cold and raw. Damp, too, which is extremely
rare. The worst day I have yet seen during the year.
Stops the grass, stops the swelling of the buds. The
young chickens hardly peep out from under the wings
of the hens. The lambs don't play, but stand knit up.
The pigs growl and squeak ; and the birds are gone
away to the woods again.
19. Same weather with an Easterly wind. Just such
a wind as that, which, in March, brushes round the
corners of the streets of London, and makes the old,
mufHled-up debauchees hurry home with aching joints.
Son?e hail to-day.
52 JOURNAL.— APRIL. [Part I.
20. Same weather. Just the weather to give drunk
ards the "blue devils."
21. Frost this morning. Ice as thick as a dollar.
Snow three times. Once to cover the ground. Went off
again directly.
22. Frost and ice in the morning. A very line day,
but not warm. Dandelions blow.
23. Sharp white frost in morning. Warm and fine day.
24. Warm night, warm and fair clay. And here I close
my Journal; for, 1 am in haste to get my manuscript away ;
and there now wants only ten days to complete the year. I
resume, now, the Numbering of my Paragraphs, having
begun my Journal at the close of PARAGRAPH
No. 20.
2 1 . Let us, now, take a survey, or rather glance, at
the face, which nature now wears. The grass begins to
afford a good deal for sbeep and for my grazing Eng
lish pigs, and the cows and oxen get a little food from
it. The pears, apples, and other fruit-trees, have not
made much progress in the swelling or bursting of their
buds. The buds of the weeping-willow have bursted
(for in spite of that conceited ass, Mr. JAMES PERRY,
to burst is a regular verb, and vulgar pedants onl
make it irregular,) and those of a Lilac, in a warm
place, are almo.st bursted, which is a great deal better
than to say, " almost burst " Oh, the coxcomb ! As
if an absolute pedagogue like him could injure me by
his criticisms! And, as if an error like this even if it
had been one, could have any thing to do with my ca
pacity for developing principles, and for simplifying
things, which in their nature, are of great complexity!
The oaks, which in England have now their sap in
full flow, are here quite unmoved as yet. In the gar
dens in general there is nothing green, while, in Eng
land, they have broccoli to eat, early cabbages planted
out, coleworts to eat, peas four or five inches high.
Yet, we shall have green peas and loaved cabbages as
soon as they will. We have sprouts from the cabbage-
stems preserved under cover ; the Swedish turnip is
giving me greens from bulbs planted out in March;
and I have some broccoli too, just coming on for use.
Chap. I.J JOURNAL. — AIMIIL. 53
How I have got this broccoli I must explain in my Gar
dener's Guide; for write one I must. 1 never can leave this
country without an attempt to make every farmer a gar
dener. In the meat way, we have beef, mutton, bacon,
fowls, a calf to kill in a fortnight's time, suckiug-pigs
when we choose, lamb nearly fit to kill ;• and all of our own
breeding, or our own feeding. We kill an ox, send three
quarters and the hide to market, and keep one quarter.
Then a sheep, which we use in the same way. The bacon
is always ready. Some fowls always fatting. Young ducks
are just coming out to meet the green pees. Chickens (the
earliest) as big as American Partridges (misnamed
quails,) are ready for the asparagus, which is just coming
out of the ground. Eggs at all times more than we can
consume. And, if there be any one, who wants better
fare than this, let the grumbling glutton come to that
poverty, which Solomon has said shall be his lot. And,
the great thing of all, is, that here, every man, even
every labourer, may live as well as this, if he will be
sober and industrious.
22. There are two things, which 1 have not yet men
tioned, and which are almost wholly wanting here, while
they are so amply enjoyed in England. The singing-
birds and thejtowers. Here are many birds in summer,
and some of very beautiful plumage. There are some
wild flowers, and some English flowers in the best gar
dens. But, generally speaking, they are birds without
song, and flowers without smell. The linnet (more than a
thousand of which I have heard warbling upon one
scrubbed oak on the sand-hills in Surrey,) the sky-lark,
the goldfinch, the wood-lark, the nightingale, the bull
finch, the black-bird, the thrush, and all the rest of the
singing tribe are wanting in these beautiful \voods and
orchards of garlands. When these latter have dropped
their bloom, all is gone in the flowery way. No shep
herd's rose, no honey-suckle, none of that endless variety
of beauties that decorate the hedges and the meadows in
England. No daisies, no primroses, no cowslips, no
blue-bells* no daffodils, which, as if it were not enough
for them to charm the sight and the smell, must
have names, too, to delight the ear. All these are
54 JOURNAL. — APRIL. [Parti.
wanting in America. Here are, indeed, birds, which
bear the name of robin, blackbird, thrush, and gold
finch ; but, alas ! the thing at Westminster has, in like
manner, the name of parliament, and speaks the voice
of the people whom it pretends to represent, in much
about the same degree that the black- bird here speaks
the voice of its namesake in England.
23. Of health, I have not yet spoken, and, though it
will be a subject of remark in another part of my work,
it is a matter of too deep interest to be wholly passed
over here. In the first place, as to myself, 1 have
always had excellent health ; but during a year, in
England, 1 used to have a cold or two ; a trifling sore
throat ; or something in that \vay. Here, 1 have
neither, though I was more than two months of the
winter travelling about, and sleeping in different beds.
My family have been more healthy than in England,
though, indeed, there has seldom been any serious ill
ness in it. We have had but one visit from any
doctor. Thus much, for the present, on this subject.
1 said, in the second Register 1 sent home, that this
climate was not so good as that of England. Experi
ence, observation, a careful attention to real facts, have
convinced me that it is, upon the whole, a better cli
mate ; though L tremble lest the tools of the Borough-
mongers should cite this as a new and most flagrant in
stance of inconsistency. England is my country, and
to England I shall return, i like it best, and shall
always like it best; but, then, in the word Englatid,
many things are included besides climate and soil and
seasons, and eating and drinking.
24. In the Second Part of this work, which will fol
low the First Part in the course of two months, 1 shall
take particular pains to detail all that is within my
knowledge, which 1 think likely to be useful to persons
who intend coming to this country from England. 1
shall take every particular of the expense of support
ing a family, and show what are the means to be ob
tained for that purpose, and how they are to be
obtained. My intending to return to England ought
to d€ter no one from coming hither; because, I
Chap. L] JOURNAL. — APRIL. 55
was resolved, if I had life, to return, and I expressed
that resolution before I came away. But, if there are
good and virtuous men, who can do no good there, and
who, by coming hither can withdraw the fruits of
their honest labour from the grasp of the Borough
tyrants, I am bound, if I speak of this country at all,
to tell them the real truth ; and this, as far as I have
gone, I have now done.
56 RUTA BAGA CULTURE. [Part. 1
CHAP. II.
RUTA BAGA.
CULTURE, MODE OF PRESERVING, AND USES OF THE
RUTA BAGA, sometimes CALLKD THE RUSSIA,
SOMETIMES THE SWEDISH TURNIP.
Description of the Plant.
25. IT is my intention, as notified in the public pa
pers, to put into print an account of all the experi
ments, which I have made, and shall make in Farming
and in Gardening upon this Island. I, several years
ago, long before tyranny showed its present horrid front
in England, formed the design of sending out, to be pub
lished in this country, a treatise on the cultivation of the
root and green crops, as cattle, sheep, and hog food.
This design was suggested by the reading of- the fol
lowing passages in Mr. CHANCELLOR LIVINGSTON'S
Essay on Sheep, which I received in 1812. After
having stated the most proper means to be employed
in order to keep sheep and lambs during the winter
months, he adds: " Having brought our flocks through
" the winter, we come now to the most critical season,
" that is, the latter end of March and the month of April.
"At this time the ground being bare, the sheep will re-
" fuse to eat their hay, while the scanty picking of grass,
Chap. II.] RUTA BAGA CULTURE. -57
™ and its purgative quality, will disable them from taking
" the nourishment that is necessary to keep them up.
"If they fall away, their wool will be injured, and the
" growth of their lambs will be stopped, and even many
" of the old sheep will be carried off by the dysentery.
" To provide food for this season is very difficult.
" Turnips and Cabbages will rot, and bran they will
" not eat, after having been feed on it all the winter.
" Potatoes, however, and the Swedish Turnips, called
" Ruta .Baga, may be usefully applied at this time,
" and so, I think, might Parsnips and Carrots. But
" as few of us are in the habit of cultivating these plants
<£ to the extent which is necessary for the support of a
li large flock, we must seek resources more within our
lt reach." And then the Chancellor proceeds to re
commend the leaving the second growth of clover uncut,
in order to produce early shoots from sheltered buds
for the sheep to eat until the coming of the natural grass
and the general pasturage.
26. 1 was much surprised at reading this passage, hav
ing observed, when I lived in Pennsylvania, how prodi
giously the root crops of every kind flourished and suc
ceeded with only common skill and care; and, in 1815,
having by that time had many crops of Ruta Baga ex
ceeding thirty tons, or, about one thousand Jive hun
dred heaped bushels to the acre, at Botley, I formed the
design of sending out to America a Treatise on the Cul
ture and Uses of that Root, which I was perfectly well
convinced, could be raised with more ease here than in
England ; and, that it might be easily preserved during
the whole year, if necessary, 1 had proved in many
cases,
27. If Mr. CHANCELLOR LIVINGSTON, whose
public-spirit is manifested fully in his excellent little
work, which he modestly calls an Essay, could see my
ewes and lambs, and hogs and cattle, at this " critical
season" (1 write on the 27th of March,) \vith more
Ruta Baga at their command than they have mouths to
employ on it ; if he could see me, who am on a poor
exhausted piece of land, and who found it covered with
weeds and brambles in the month of June last, who
58 RUTA BAGA CULTURE. [Part I.
found no manure, and who have brought none ; if he
could see me overstocked, not with mouths, but with
food, owing to a little care in the cultivation of this in
valuable root, he would, I am sure, have reason to be
convinced, that, if any farmer in the United States is
in want of food at this pinching season of the year, the
fault is neither in the soil nor in the climate.
28. It is, therefore, of my mode of cultivating this
root on this Island that I mean at present, to treat ; to
which matter I shall add, in another PART of my work,
an account of my experiments as to the MANGEL
WURZEL, or SCARCITY ROOT; though, as will be
seen, I deem that root, except in particular cases, of
very inferior importance. The parsnip, the carrot, the
cabbage, are all excellent in their kind and in their uses ;
but, as to these, 1 have not yet made, upon a scale
sufficiently large here, such experiments as would war
rant me in speaking with any degree of confidence.
Of these, and other matters, I propose to treat in a fu
ture PART, which I shall, probably, publish toward
the latter end of this present year.
29. The Ruta Baga is a sort of turnip well known
in the State of New York, where, under the name of
Russia turnip, it is used for the Table from February
to July. But, as it may be more of a stranger in other
parts of the country, it seems necessary to give it
enough of description to enable every reader to distin
guish it from every other sort of turnip.
30. The leaf of every other sort of turnip is of a
yellowish green, while the leaf of the Ruta Baga is of a
blaeish green, like the green of peas, when of nearly
their full size, or like the green of a young and thrifty
early Yorkshire cabbage. Hence it is, I suppose, that
some persons have called it the Cabbage-turnip. But
the characteristics the most decidedly distinctive are
these : — that the outside of the bulb of the Ruta Baga
is of a greenish hue, mixed, towards the top, with a co
lour bordering on a red; and, that the inside of the
bulb, if the sort be true and pure, is of a deep yellow,
nearly as deep as that of gold.
Chap. II.] RUTA BAGA CULTURE. 59
Mode of saving and of preserving the Seed.
31. This is rather a nice business, and should be, by
no means, executed in a negligent manner. For, on the
well attending to this, much of the seed depends : and,
it is quite surprising how great losses are, in the end,
frequently sustained by the saving in this part of the bu
siness, of an hour's labour or attention. I one year lost
more than half of what would have been an immense
crop, by a mere piece of negligence in my bailiff as to
the seed : and I caused a similar loss to a gentleman in
Berkshire, who had his seed out of the same parcel
that mine was taken from, and who had sent many miles
for it, in order to have the best in the world.
32. The Ruta Baga is apt to degenerate^ if the seed
be not saved with care. We, in England, select the
plants to be saved for seed. We examine well to find
out those that run least into neck and green. We reject
all such as approach at all towards a whitish colour, or
which are even of a greenish colour towards the neck,
where there ought to be a little reddish cast.
33. Having selected the plants with great care, we
take them up out of the place where they have grown,
and plant them in a plot distant from every thing of the
turnip or cabbage kind which is to bear seed. In this
Island, I am now, at this time, planting mine for seed
(27th March,) taking all our English precautions. It
is probable, that they would do very well, if taken out
of a heap to be transplanted, if well selected ; but, lest
this should not do well, I have kept my selected plants
all the winter in the ground in my garden, well covered
with corn-stalks and leaves from the trees ; and, indeed,
this is so very little a matter to do, that it would be
monstrous to suppose, that any farmer would neglect it
on account of the labour and trouble ; especially when
we consider, that the seed of two or three turnips is more
than sufficient to sow an acre of land. I, on one occasion,
planted twenti/ turnips for seed, and the produce, be
sides what the little birds took as their share for having
60 RUTA BAG A CULTURE. [Part I.
kept down the caterpillars, was twenty-two and a half
pounds of clean seed.
34. The sun is so ardent and the weather so fair here
compared with the drippy and chilly climate of Eng
land, while the birds here never touch this sort of seed,
that a small plot of ground would if well managed, pro
duce a great quantity of seed. Whether it would de
generate is a matter that I have not yet ascertained ;
but which I am about to ascertain this year.
35. That all these precautions of selecting the plants
and transplanting them are necessary, I know by ex
perience. I, on one occasion, had sown all my own
seed, and the plants had been carried off by tlaejly, of
which I shall have to speak presently. [ sent to a per
son who had raised some seed, which I afterwards
found to have come from turnips, left promiscuously to
go to seed in a part of a field where they had been
sown. The consequence was, that a good third part of
my crop had no bulbs ; but consisted of a sort of rape,
all leaves, and stalks growing very high. While even
the rest of the crop bore no resemblance, either in
point of size or of quality, to turnips, in the same field,
from seed saved in a proper manner, though this latter
was sown at a later period.
36. As to the preserving of the seed, it is an invari
able rule applicable to all seeds, that seed, kept in the
pod to the very time of sowing, will vegetate more
quickly and more vigorously than seed which has been
some time threshed out. But, turnip-seed will do very
well if threshed out as soon as ripe, and kept in a dry
place, and not coo much exposed to the air. A bag,
hung up in a dry room, is the depository that I use. But,
before being threshed out, the seed should be quite ripe,
and, if cut off, or pulled out, which latter is the best
way, before the pods are quite dead, the whole should
be suffered to lie in the sun till the pods are perfectly
dead, in order that the seed may imbibe its full nourish
ment, and come to complete perfection ; otherwise the
seed will wither, much of it will not grow at all, and
that which does grow will produce plants inferior to
those proceeding from well-ripened seed.
Chap, II.] RtTA BAGA CULTURE, Ol
Time of Solving.
31. Our time of sowing in England is from the first
to the twentieth of June, though some persons sow in
May, which is still better. This was one of the matters of
the most deep interest with me, when I came to Hyde
Park. I could not begin before the month of June ;
for I had no ground ready. But then, 1 began with great
care, on the second of June, sowing, in small plots, once
ever i/ iveck, till the 30th of July, in every case the seed
took well and the plants grew well ; but, having looked
at the growth of the plots first sown, and calculated upon
the probable advancement of them, I fixed upon the
16th of June for the sowing of my principal crop.
38. 1 was particularly anxious to know, whether this
country were cursed with the Turnip fly, which is so
destructive in England. It is a little insect about the size
of a bed flea, and jumps away from all approaches ex
actly like that insect. It abounds sometimes, in quanti
ties, so great as to eat up all the young plants, on hun
dreds and thousands of acres, in a single day. It makes
its attack when the plants are in the seed-leaf: and, it is
so very generally prevalent, that it is always an even
chance, at least, that every field that is sown will be thus
wholly destroyed. There is no remedy but that of
ploughing and sowing again ; and this is frequently re
peated three times, and even then there is no crop. Vo
lumes upon volumes have been written on the means of
preventing, or mitigating, this calamity ; but nothing
effectual has ever been discovered ; and, at last, the ojily
means of insuring a crop of Ruta Baga in England, is
to raise the plants in small plots, sown, at many diffe
rent times, in the same manner as cabbages are sown,
and, like cabbages, transplant them ; of which mode of
culture I shall speak by and by. It is very singular, that
a field sown one day. wholly escapes, while a field sown
the next day, is wholly destroyed, Nay, a part of the
same field, sown in the morning, will sometimes escape,
while the part, sown in the afternoon, will be destroyed ;
and, sometimes the afternoon sowing is the part that is
spared. To find a remedy for this evil has posed all the
62 RUTA BAGA CULTURE. [Parti.
heads of all the naturalists and chemists of England.
As an evil, the smut in wheat ; the wire-worm ; the
grubs above ground and under-ground ; the caterpillars,
green and black ; the slug, red, black, and grey, though
each a great tormentor, are nothing. Against all these
there is some remedy, though expensive and plaguing ;
or, at any rate, their ravages are comparatively slow,
and their causes are known. But the Turnip fly is the
English farmer's evil genius. To discover a remedy for,
or the cause of, this plague, has been the object of in
quiries, experiments, analyses, innumerable. Premium
upon premium offered, has only produced pretended re
medies, which have led to disappointments and mortifica
tion ; and I have no hesitation to say, that, if any man
could find out a real remedy, and could communicate the
means of cure, while he kept the nature of the means a
secret, he would be much richer than he who should dis
cover the longitude ; for about^/h/ thousand farmers
would very cheerfully pay him ten guineas a-y ear each.
39. The reader will easily judge, then, of my anxiety
to know,whether this mortal enemy of the farmer exist
ed in Long Island. This was the first question which 1
put to every one of my neighbours, and I augured good
from their not appearing to understand what I meant.
However, as my little plots of turnips came up succes
sively, I watched them as our farmers do their fields in
England. To my infinite satisfaction, I found that my
alarms had been groundless. This circumstance, besides
others that I have to mention by and by, gives to the
stock-farmer in America so great an advantage over the
farmer in England, or in any part of the middle and
northern parts of Europe, that it is truly wonderful that
the culture of this root has not, long ago, become gene
ral in this country.
40. The time of sowing, then, may be, as circum
stances may require, from the 25th of June to about the
10th of July, as the result of my experiments will now
show. The plants sown during the first fifteen days of
June grew well, and attained great size and weight;
but, though they did not actually go off' to seed, they
were very little short of so doing. They rose into large
Chap. II.] RUTA BAGA CULTURE. 63
and long necks, and sent out sprouts from the upper
part of the bulb ; and, then, the bulb itself (which is the
thing sought after) swelled no more. The substance of
the bulb became hard and stringy ; and the turnips,
upon the whole, were smaller and of greatly inferior
quality, compared with those, which were sown at the
proper time.
41. The turnips sown between the loth and 26th of
June, had all these appearances and quality, only in a
less degree. But, those which were sown on the 26th
of June, were perfect in shape, size and quality ; and,
though I have grown them larger in England, it was
not done without more manure upon half an acre than 1
scratched together to put upon seven acres at Hyde Park ;
but of this I shall speak more particularly when I come
to the quantity of crop.
42. The sowings which were made after the 26th of
June, and before the 10th of July, did very well ; and,
one particular sowing on the 9th of July, on 12 rods, or
perches of ground, sixteen and a half feet to the rod,
yielded 62 bushels, leaves and roots cut off, which is
after the rate of 992 bushels to an acre. But this
sowing was on ground extremely well prepared and suf
ficiently manured with ashes from burnt earth ; a mode
of raising manure of which I shall fully treat in a fu
ture chapter.
43. Though this crop was so large, sown on the 9th
of July, I would by no means recommend any farmer,
who can sow sooner, to defer the business to that time :
for, I am of opinion, with die old folk in the West of
England, that God is almost always on the side of early
farmers. Besides, one delay too often produces ano
ther delay ; and he who puts off to the 9th may put off
to the 19th.
44. The crops in small plots, which I sowed after
the 9th of July to the 30th of that month, grew very
well ; but they regularly succeeded each other in dimi
nution of size ; and, which is a great matter, the cold
weather overtook them before they were ripe ; and
ripeness is full as necessary in the case of roots as in
the case of apples or of peaches.
f>4 RUTA BAG A CULTURE. [Part 1.
Quality and Preparation of the Seed.
45. As a fine, rich, loose garden mould, of great
depth, and having a porous stratum under it, is best for
every thing that vegetates, except plants that live best
in water, so it is best for the Ruta Baga. But, I know
of no soil in the United States, in which this root may
not be cultivated with the greatest facility. A pure sand,
or a very stiff day, would not do well, certainly ; but
I have never seen any of either in America. The soil
that I cultivate is poor almost proverbially ; but, what
it really is, is this ; it is a light loam, approaching to
wards the sandy. It is of a brownish colour about
eight inches deep ; then becomes more of a red for
about another eight inches ; and then comes a mixture
of yellowish sand and of pebbles, which continues
down to the depth of many feet.
46. So much for the nature of the land. As to its
state, it was that of as complete poverty as can well be
imagined. My main crop of Ruta Baga was sown upon
two different pieces. One, of about three acres, had
borne, in 1816, some Indian com stalks, together with
immense quantities of brambles, grass, and weeds, of
all descriptions. The other, of about four acres, had,
when I took to it, rye growing on it ; but, this rye was
so poor, that my neighbour assured me, that it could
produce nothing, and he advised me to let the cattle and
sheep take it for their trouble of walking over the ground,
which advice I readily followed ; but, when he heard
me say, that I intended to sow Russia turnips on the
same ground, he very kindly told me his opinion of the
matter, which was, that I should certainly throw my
labour wholly away.
47. With these two pieces of ground I went to work
early in June. I ploughed them very shallow, thinking
to drag the grassy clods up with the harrow, to put them
in heaps and burn them, in which case I would
(barring the//// /) have pledged my life for a crop of
Ruta Baga. It adversely happened to rain, when my
clods should have been burnt, and the furrows were so
solidly fixed down by the rain, that I could not tear
Chap. II.] RUTA BAGA CULTURE. 65
them up with the harrow; and, besides, my time of sow
ing came on apace. Thus situated, and having no faitli
in what I was told about the dangers of deep ploughing,
I fixed four oxen to a strong plough, and turned up
soil that had not seen the sun for many, many long
years. Another soaking rain came very soon after, and
went, at once, to the bottom of my ploughing, instead
of being caried away instantly by evaporation. 1 then
harrowed the ground down level, in order ,to keep it
moist as long as I could; for the sun now began to be
the thing most dreaded.
48. In the meanwhile I was preparing my manure.
There was nothing of the kind visible upon the place.
But, [ had the good luck to follow a person, who ap
pears not to have known much of the use of brooms. By
means of sweeping and raking arid scratching in and
round the house, the barn, the stables, the hen-roost,
and the court and yard, I got together about four hun
dred bushels of not very bad turnip manure. This was
not quite 60 bushels to an acre for my seven acres ; or
three gallons to every square rod.
4<J. However, though I made use of these beggarly
means, I would not be understood to recommend the use
of such means to others. On the contrary, I should have
preferred good and clean land, and plenty of manure : but
of this I shall speak again, when 1 have given an account
of the manner of sowing and transplanting.
Manner of sowing.
50. Thus fitted out with land and manure, I set to
the work of sowing, which was performed, with the help
of two ploughs and two pair of oxen, on the 25th, 26th,
and 27th of June. The ploughmen put the ground up
into little ridges having two furrows on each side of the
ridge : so that every ridge consisted of four furrows, or
turnings over of the plough ; and the tops of the ridges
were about four feet from each other ; and, as the
ploughing was performed to a great depth, there was,
of course, a very deep gutter between every two ridges.
51. I took care to have the manure placed so as to be
under the middle of each ridge ; that is to say, just be-
60 RUTABAGA CULTURE. fPartl.
neath where my seed was to come. 1 had but a very
small quantity of seed as well as of manure. This seed
i had, however, brought from home, where it was raised
by a neighbour, on whom I could rely, and I had no
faith in any other. So that I was compelled to bestow
it on the ridges with a very parsimonious hand ; not
having, I believe, more than four pounds to sow on the
seven acres. It was sown principally in this manner ;
a man went along by the side of each ridge, and put
down two or three seeds in places at about ten inches
from each other, just drawing a little earth over, and
pressing it on the seed, in order to make it vegetate
quickly before the earth became too dry. This is al
ways a good thing to be done, and especially in dry
weather, and under a hot sun. Seeds are very small
things ; and though, when we see them covered over
with earth, we conclude that the earth must touch them
closely, we should remember, that a very small cavity
is sufficient to keep them untouched nearly all round,
in which case, under a hot sun, and near the surface,
they are sure to perish, or, at least, to lie long, and
until rain come, before they start.
52. I remember a remarkable instance of this in sav
ing some turnips to transplant at Botley. The whole of
a piece of ground was sown broad-cast. My gardener
had been told to sow in beds, that we might go in to
weed the plants ; and, having forgotten this till after
sowing, he clapped down his line, and divided the plot
into beds by treading very hard a little path at a dis
tance of every four feet. The weather was very dry
and the wind very keen. It continued so for three
weeks ; and, at the end of that time, we had scarcely
a turnip in the beds, where the ground had been left
raked over ; but, in the paths we had an abundance,
which grew to be very fine, and which, when trans
planted, made part of a field which bore thirty-three
tons to the acre, and which, as a whole field, was the
finest I ever saw in my life.
53. 1 cannot help endeavouring to press this fact
upon the reader. Squeezing down the earth makes it
touch the seed in all its parts, and then it will soon vege
tate. It is for this reason, that barley and oat fields
Chap. II. J RUTA BAG A CULTURE. 67
should be rolled, if the weather be dry ; and, indeed,
that all seed should be pressed down, if the state of the
earth will admit of it.
54. This mode of sowing is neither tedious nor expen
sive. Two men sowed the whole of my seven acres in the
three days, which, when we consider the value of the
crop, and the saving in the after-culture, is really not
worth mentioning. I do not think, that any sowing by
drill is so good, or, in the end, so cheap as this. Drills
miss very often in the sowings of such small seeds. How
ever, the thing may be done by hand in a less precise
manner. One man would have sown the seven acres in a
day, by just scattering the seeds along on the top of the
ridge, where they might have been buried with the rake,
and pressed down by a spade or shovel or some other flat
instrument. A slight roller to take two ridges at once,
the horse walking in the gutter between, is what I used
to make use of when I sowed on ridges ; and, who can
want such a roller in America, as long as he has an axe
and an auger in his house ? Indeed, this whole matter is
such a trifle, when compared with the importance of the
object, that it is not to be believed, that any man will
think it worth the smallest notice as counted amongst
the means of obtaining that object.
55. Broad cast sowing will, however, probably be,
in most cases, preferred ; and, this mode of sowing is
pretty well understood from general experience. What
is required here, is, that the ground be well ploughed,
finely harrowed, and the seeds thinly and evenly sown
over it, to the amount of about two pounds of seed to an
acre ! but, then, if the weather be dry, the seed should,
by all means be rolled down. When J have spoken
of the after-culture, I shall compare the two methods
of sowing, the ridge and the broad-cast, in order that
the reader may be the better able to say, which of the
two is entitled to the preference.
After-culture.
56. In relating what I did in this respect, I shall take
it for granted, that the reader will understand me as
describing what I think ought to be done.
68 RUTA BAGA CLLTURS. [Part 1.
57. When my ridges were laid up, and my seed was
sown, my neighbours thought, that there was an end of
the process; for, they all said, that, if the seed ever
came up, being upon those high ridges, the plants never
coukl live under the scorching of the sun. 1 knew that
this was an erroneous notion ; but I had not much confi
dence in the powers of the soil, it benig so evidently
poor, and my supply of manure so scanty.
58. The plants, however, made their appearance
with great regularity ! no Jiy came to annoy them. The
moment they were fairly up, we went with a very small
hoe, and took all but one in each ten or eleven or twelve
inches, and thus left them singly placed. This is a
great point ; for they begin to rob one another at a very
early age, and, if lefttwo or three weeks to rob each other,
before they are set out singly, the crop will be diminished
one-half. To set the plants out in this way was a very easy
and quickly -pei formed business ; but, it is a business to
be left to no one but a careful man. Boys can never safely
be trusted with the deciding, at discretion, whether you
shall have a large crop or a small one.
59. But now, something else began to appear as well
as turnip-plants ; for, all the long grass and weeds
having dropped their seeds the summer before, and,
probably, for many summers, they now came forth to
demand their share of that nourishment, produced by
the fermentation, the dews, and particularly the SM//,
which shines on all alike. I never saw a fiftieth part
so many weeds in my life upon a like space of ground.
Their little seed leaves, of various hues, formed a
perfect mat on the ground. And now it was, that my
wide ridges, which had appeared to my neighbours to
be so very singular and so unnecessary, were absolutely
necessary. First we went with a hoe, and hoed the
iops of the ridges, about six inches wide, There were
all the plants, then, clear and clean at once, with an
expense of about half a day's work to an acre. Then
we came, in our Botley fashion, with a single horse-
plough; took a furrow from the side of one ridge going up
the field, a furrow from the other ridge coining down,
then another furrow fiom the same side of the first
Chap. II.] RUTA BAGA CULTURE. 69
i idire going up, and another from the same side of the
other ridge coming down. In the taking away of the
last two furrows, we went within three inches of the
turnip-plants. Thus there was a ridge over the origi
nal gutter. Then we turned these furrows back again
to the turnips. And, having gone, in this manner, over
the whole piece, there it was with not a weed alive in
it. All killed by the sun, and the field as clean and as
line as any garden that ever was seen.
()(). Those who know the effect of tillage between
growing plants, and especially if the earth be moved deep
(and, indeed, what American does not know what such
effect is, seeing that, without it, there would be no Indian
Corn ?) ; those that reflect on this effect, may guess at the
effect on my Ruta Baga plants, which soon gave me, by
their appearance, a decided proof, that TULL'S princi
ples are always true, in whatever soil or climate applied.
6 1 . It was now a very beautiful thing to see a regular
unbroken line of fine, fresh looking plants upon the tops
uf those wide ridges, which had been thought to be so
very whimsical and unnecessary. But, why have the
ridges so very wide ? This question was not new to me,
who had to answer it a thouaand times in England. It
is because you cannot plough deep and clean in a nar
rower space than four feet : and, it is the deep and clean
ploughing that I regard as the surest means of a large
crop, especially in poor, or indifferent ground. It is a
great error to suppose, that there is any ground lost by
these wide intervals. My crop of thirty-three tonsj or
thirteen hundred and twenty bushels, to the acre, taking
a whole field together, had the same sort of intervals ;
while my neighbour's, with two feet intervals, never ar
rived at two thirds of the weight of that crop. There is
no ground lost ; for, any one, who has a mind to do it,
may satisfy himself, that the lateral roots of any fine
large turnip will extend more than six feet from the bulb
of the plant. The intervals are full of these roots, the
breaking of which and the moving of which, as in the
case of Indian Corn, gives new food and new roots, and
produces wonderful effects on the plants. Wide as my
intervals were, the leaves of some of the plants very
nearly touched those of the plants on the adjoining ridge,
70 RUT A BAG A CULTURE. [Part 1.
before the end of their growth ; and I have had them fre
quently meet in this way in England. They would always
doit here, if the ground were rich and the tillage proper.
How then, can the intervals be too wide, if the plants oc
cupy the interval? And how can any ground be lost if
every inch be full of roots and shaded by leaves ?
62. After the last-mentioned operation my plants re
mained till the weeds had again made their appearance ;
or, rather, till a new brood had started up. When this
was the case, we went with the hoe again, and cleaned
the tops of the ridges as before. The weeds, under this
all-powerful sun, instantly perish. Then we repeated
the former operation with the one-horse plough. After
this nothing was done but to pull up now and then a
weed, which had escaped the hoe ; for, as to the plough
share, nothing escapes that.
63. Now I think, no farmer can discover in this pro
cess any thing more difficult, more troublesome, more
expensive, than in the process absolutely necessary to
the obtaining of a crop of Indian Corn. And yet, I will
venture to say, that in any land, capable of bearing
jijty bushels of corn upon an acre, more than a thousand
bushels of Ruta Baga may, in the above described
manner, be raised.
64. In the broad-cast method the after-culture must,
of course, be confined to hoeing, or, as TULL calls it,
scratching. In England, the hoer goes in when the
plants are about four inches high, and hoes all the
ground, setting out the plants to about eighteen inches
apart ; and, if the ground be at all foul, he is obliged to
go in about a month afterwards, to hoe the ground again .
This is all that is done; and a very poor all it is, as the
crops, on the very best ground, compared with the
ridged crops, invariably show.
Transplanting.
65. This is a third mode of cultivating the RUTA
BAGA ; and, in certain cases, far preferable to either of
the other two. My large crops at Botley were from
roots transplanted. I resorted to this mode in order to
insure a crop in spite of the Jtij ; but, 1 am of opinion,
Chap. II.] RUTA BAG A CULTURE. 71
that it is, in all cases, the best mode, provided hands
can be obtained in sufficient number, just for a few days,
or \\eeks, as the quantity may be, when the land and
the plants are ready.
66. Much light is thrown on matters of this sort by
describing what one has done one's self relating to them,
This is practice at once ; or, at least, it comes much
nearer to it than any instructions possibly can.
67. It was an accident that led me to the practice. In
the summer of 1812, I had a piece of Rut a Baga in the
middle of a field, or, rather, the piece occupied a part of
the field, having a crop of carrots on one side, and a crop
of Mangel Wurzel on the other side. On the 20th of July
the turnips, or rather, those of them which had escaped
the fly, began to grow pretty well. They had been sown
in drills ; and I was anxious to fill up the spaces, which
had been occasioned by the ravages of thejly. I, there
fore, took the supernumerary plants, which I found in
the un-attacked places, and filled up the rows by trans
plantation, which 1 did also in two other fields.
68. The turnips thus transplanted, grew, and, in fact,
were pretty good; but, they were very far inferior to
those which had retained their original places. But, it
happened, that on one side of the above-mentioned piece
of turnips, theie vas a vacant space of about a yard in
breadth. When the ploughman had finished ploughing
between the rows of turnips, I made him plough up
that spare ground very deep, and upon it I made my gar
dener go and plant two rows of turnips. These became
the largest and finest of the whole piece, though trans
planted two days later than those which had been trans
planted in the rows throughout the piece. The cause
of this remarkable difference, I at once saw, was, that
these had been put into newly -ploughed ground ; for,
though I had not read much of TULL at the time here
referred to, I knew, from the experience of my whole
life, that plants as well as seeds ought always to go ink)
ground as recently moved as possible; because at every
moving of the earth, and particularly at every turning of
it, a new process of fermentation takes place, fresh ex
halations arise, and a supply of the food of 'plants is thus
72 RUTA BAGA CULTURE. [Part I.
prepared for the newly arrived guests. Mr. CUR\VEN,
the Member of Parliament, though a poor thing as to
public matters, has published not a bad book on agri
culture. It is not bad, because it contains many au
thentic accounts of experiments made by himself; though
I never can think of his book without thinking, at the
same time, of the gross and scandalous plagiarism, which
he has committed upon TULL. Without mentioning
particulars, the "Honourable Member" will, I am sure
know what I mean, if this page should ever have the
honour to fall under his eye; and he will, I hope, re
pent, and give proof of his repentance, by a restora
tion of the property to the right owner.
69. However, Mr. CURWEN, in his book, gives an
account of the wonderful effects of moving the ground
between plants in rows ; and he tells us of an experi
ment, which he made, and which proved, that from
ground just ploughed, in a very dry time, an exhala
tion of many tons weight, per acre, took place, during
the first twenty-four hours after ploughing, and of a less
and less number of tons, during the three or four suc
ceeding twenty-four hours ; that, in the course of about a
week, the exhalation ceased ; and that, during the whole
period, the ground, though in the same field, which had
not been ploughed when the other ground was exhaled not
an ounce! When I read this in Mr. CURWEN'S book,
which was before I had read TULL, I called to mind, that
having once dug the ground between some rows of part of
a plot of cabbages in my garden, in order to plant some
late pease, I perceived (it was in a dry time) the cabbages,
the next morning, in the part recently dug, with big drops,
of dew hanging on the edges of the leaves, and in the other,
or undugpart of the plot, no drops at all. I had forgotten
the fact till I read Mr. CURWEN, and I never knew the
cause till I read the real Father of English Husbandry.
70. From this digression I return to the history, first
of my English transplanting. I saw, at once, that the
oijly way to ensure a crop of turnips was by transplan
tation. The next year, therefore, 1 prepared a field of
Jive acreS) and another of twelve. I made ridges, in the
manner described, for sowing; and, on the 7th of June
*uphap. II.] RUTA BAG A CULTURE. 73
in the first field, and on the 20th of July in the second field,
1 planted my plants. I ascertained to an exactness, that
there were thiry-three tons to an acre, throughout the
whole seventeen acres. After this, I never used any other
method. 1 never saw above half as great a crop in any
other person's land; and, though we read of much greater
in agricultural prize reports, they must have been of
the extent of a single acre, or something in that way, In
my usual order, the ridges four feet asunder, and the plants
a foot asunder on the ridge, there were ten thousand
eight hundred and thirty turnips on the acre of ground ;
and, therefore, for an acre to weigh thirty-three tons
each turnip must weigh very nearly seven pounds. After
the time here spoken of, I had an acre or two at the end
of a large field, transplanted on the 13th of July, which
probably, weighed fifty tons an acre. I delayed to have
them weighed till a fire happened in some of my farm
buildings, which produced a further delay, and so the
thing was not done at all ; but I weighed one wagon load,
the turnips of which averaged eleven pounds each ; and
several weighed fourteen pounds each. My very largest
upon Long [sland weighed twelve pounds and a half. In
all these cases, as well here as in England, the produce
was from transplanted plants; though at Hyde Park, I
have many turnips of more than ten pounds weight each
from sown plants, some of which, on account of the great
perfection in their qualities, I have selected, and am
now planting out, for seed.
71.1 will now give a full account of my transplanting
at Hyde Park. In a part of the ground which was put
into ridges and sown, I scattered the seed along very
thinly upon the top of the ridge. But, however thinly
you may attempt to scatter such small seeds, there will
always be too many plants, if the tillage be good and the
seed good also. 1 suffered these plants to stand as they
came up ; and, they stood much too long, on account of
my want of hands, or, rather, my want of time to attend
to give my directions in the transplanting ; and, indeed,
my example too ; for, 1 met not with a man who knew
how tojix a plant in the ground ; and, strange as it may
appear, more than half the bulk of crop depends on a
D
74 RUTA BAGA CULTURE. [Part I,
little, trifling, contemptible twist of the setting-stick, or
dibble ; a thing very well known to all gardeners in the
case of cabbages, and about which, therefore, I will
give, by and by, very plain instructions.
72. Thus puzzled, and not being able to spare time
to do the job myself, I was one day looking at my poor
plants, which were daily suffering for want of removal,
and was thinking how glad I should be of one of the
CnuRCHERsatBotley, who, I thought to myself, would
soon clap me out my turnip patch. At this very time ;
and into the field itself came a cousin of one of these
CHURCHERS, who had lately arrived from England!
It was very strange, but literally the fact.
73. To work Churcher and I went, and, with the aid
of persons to pull up the plants and bring them to us,
we planted out about two acres, in the mornings and
evenings of six days : for the weather was too hot for us
to keep out after breakfast, until about two hours be
fore sun-set. There was a friend staying with me, who
helped us to plant, and who did indeed, as much of
the work as either Churcher or I.
74. The time when this was done was from the 21st to
the 28th of August, one Sunday and one day of no plant
ing, having intervened. Every body knows, that this is
the very hottest season of the year ; and, as it happened,
this was, last summer, the very driest also. The weather
had been hot and dry from the 10th of August : and so
it continued to the IQthof September. Any gentleman
who has kept a journal of last year, upon Long Island,
will know this to be correct. Who would have thought to
see these plants thrive; who would have thought to see
them live 1 The next day after being planted, their leaves
crumbled between our fingers, like the old leaves of trees.
In two days there was no more appearance of a crop
upon the ground than there was of a crop on the turn
pike-road. But, on the 2nd of September, as I have it
in my memorandum-book, the'plants began to show life;
and, before the rain came, on the 12th, the piece be
gan to have an air of verdure, and, indeed, to grow
and to promise a good crop.
75. I will speak of the bulk of this crop by and by ;
Chap. II.] RUTA BAGA CULTURE. 75
but, I must here mention another transplatation that I
made in the latter end of July. A plot of ground, oc
cupied by one of my earliest sowings, had the turnips
standing in it in rows at eighteen inches asunder, and at
a foot asunder in the rows. Towards the middle of
July I found, that one half of the rows must be taken
away, or that the whole would be of little value. Hav
ing pulled up the plants, I intended to translate them
(as they say of Bishops) from the garden to the field •
but, I had no ground ready. However, I did not like to
throw away these plants, which had already bulbs as
large as hens' eggs. They were carried into the cellar,
where they lay in a heap, till (which would soon happen
in such hot weather) they began to ferment. This made
the most of their leaves turn white. Unwilling, still, to
throw them away, 1 next laid them on the grass in the
front of the house, where they got the dews in the night,
and they were covered with a mat during the day, except
two days, when they were overlooked, or, rather, neglect
ed. The heat was very great, and, at last, supposing
these plants dead, I did not cover them any more.
There they lay abandoned till the 24th of July, on
which day I began planting Cabbages in my field. 1
then thought, that I would try the hardiness of a Ri/ta
J3aga plant. \ took these same abandoned plants, with
out a morsel of green left about them ; planted them in
part of a row of the piece of cabbages ; and they, a
hundred and six in number weighed, when they were
taken up, in December, nine hundred and one pounds.
One of these turnips weighed twelve pounds and a half. .
76. But, it ought to be observed, that this was in
ground which had been got up in my best manner ; that
it had some of the best of my manure : and, that un
common pains were taken by myself in the putting in of
the plants. This experiment shows, what a hardy plant
this is ; but, I must caution the reader against a belief,
that it is either desirable or prudent to put this quality
to so severe a test. There is no necessity for it in gene
ral ; and, indeed, the rule is, that the shorter time the
plants are out of the ground the better.
77. But, as to the business of transplanting, there is
D 2
76 RUTA BAGA CULTURE. [Part I.
one very material observation to make. The ground
ought to be as fresh ; that is to say, as recently moved
by the plough, as possible ; and that for the reasons be
fore stated. The way I go on is this ; my land is put
up into ridges, as described under the head of Manner of
solving. This is done beforehand, several days ; or it
may be, a week or more. When we have our plants
and hands all ready, the ploughman begins, and turns
in the ridges ; that is to say, ploughs the ground back
again, so that the top of the new-ploughed ridge stands
over the place where the channel, or gutter, or deep
furrow, was, before he began. As soon as he has finish
ed the first ridge, the planters plant it, while he is
ploughing the second: and so on throughout the field.
That this is not a very tedious process the reader needs
only to be told, that, in 1816, I \\adjifty-tivo acres of
Ruta Baga planted in this way ; and 1 think 1 had more
than jiffy-thousand bushels. A smart hand will plant
half an acre a-day? with a girl or a boy to drop the plants
for him. I had a man, who planted an acre a day
many a time. But, supposing that a quarter of an acre
is a day's work, what are four days' work, when put in
competition with the value of an acre of this invalua
ble root ? And what farmer is there, who has common
industry, who would grudge to bend his own back eight
or twelve days, for the sake of keeping all his stock
through the Spring months, when dry food is loathsome
to them, and when grass is by nature denied ?
78. Observing well what has been said about earth
perfectly fresh, and never forgetting this, let us now
talk about the act of planting ; the mere mechanical
operation of putting the plant into the ground. We have
a setting-stick which should be the top of a spade-handle
cut off, about ten inches below the eye. It must be
pointed smoothly ; and, if it be shod with thin iron ; that
is to say, covered with an iron sheath, it will work more
smoothly, and do its business the better. At any rate
the point should be nicely smoothed, and so should the
whole of the tool. The planting is performed like that
of cabbage-plants ; but as I have met with very few
persons, out of the market gardens^ and gentlemen's
Chap. 11.] RUTA IKV.GA CULTURE. 77
gardens in England, who knew how to plant a cab-
buge-plant, so I am led to suppose, that very few, com
paratively speaking, know how to plant a turnip-plant.
79. You constantly hear people say, that they wait
for a shoioer, in order to put out their cabbage-plants.
Never was there an error more general or more com
plete in all its parts. Instead of rainy weather being
the best time, it is the very wor^t time, for this business
of transplantation, whether of cabbages or of any thing
else, from a lettuce-plant to an apple-tree. I have
proved the fact, in scores upon scores of instances. The
first time that I had any experience of the matter was
in the planting out of a plot of cabbages in my garden
at Wilmington in Delaware. I planted in dry weather,
and, as I had always done, in such cases, I watered the
plants heavily ; but, being called away for some pur
pose, I left one row unwatered, and it happened, that it
so continued without my observing it till the next day.
The sun had so completely scorched it by the next
night, that when I repeated my watering of the rest, I
left it, as being unworthy of my care, intending to plant
some other thing in the ground occupied by this dead
row. But, in a few days, I saw, that it was not dead.
It grew soon afterwards ; and, in die end, the cab
bages of my dead row were not only larger, but earlier
in loaving, than any of the rest of the plot.
80. The reason is this : if plants are put into wet
earth, the setting-stick squeezes the earth up against
the tender fibres in a mortar-like state. The sun comes
and bakes this mortar into a sort of glazed clod. The
hole made by the stick is also a smooth sided hole,
which retains its form, and presents, on every side, an
impenetrable substance to the fibres. In short, such as
the hole is made, such it, in a great measure, remains,
and the roots are cooped up in this sort of well, instead
of having a free course left them to seek their food on
every side. Besides this, the fibres get, from being wet
when planted, into a small compass. They all cling
about the tap-root, and are stuck on to it by the wet
dirt; in which state, if a hot sun follow, they are all
baked together in a lump, and cannot stir. On the
78 RUTA BAGA CULTURE. [Part 1.
contrary, when put into ground unwet, the reverse of
all this takes place ; and the fresh earth will, under any
sun, supply moisture in quantity sufficient.
81. Yet in July and August, both in England and
America, how many thousands and thousands are wait
ing for a shower to put out their plants ! And then, when
the long-wishedrfor-shower comes, they must plant upon
stale ground, for they have it dug ready, as it were, for
the purpose of keeping them company in waiting for the
shower. Thus all the fermentation which took place upon
the digging, is gone ; and when the planting has once
taken place, farewell to the spade ! For it appears to
be a privilege of the Indian corn to receive something
like good usage after being planted. It is very strange
that it should have been thus, for what reason is there
for other plants not enjoying a similar benefit ? The
reason is, that they will produce something without it ;
and the Indian corn will positively produce nothing ;
for which the Indian corn is very much to be commend
ed. As an instance of this effect of deeply moving the
earth between growing crops, I will mention, that in the
the month of June, and on the 26th of that month, a
very kind neighbour of mine, in whose garden I was,
showed me a plot of Green Savoy Cabbages, which he
had planted in some ground as rich as ground could be.
He had planted them about three weeks before ; and
they appeared very fine indeed. In the seed bed, from
which he had taken his plants, there remained about a
hundred ; but as they had been left as of no use, they
had drawn each other up, in company with the weeds,
till they were about eighteen inches high, having only a
starved leaf or two upon the top of each. I asked my
neighbour to give me these plants, which he readily did;
but begged me not to plant them, for, he assured me ,
that they would come to nothing. Indeed, they were a
ragged lot ; but, I had no plants of my own sowing more
than two inches high. I, therefore, took these plants and
dug some ground for them between some rows of scar
let blossomed beans, which mount upon poles. 1 cut
a stick on purpose, and put the plants very deep into the
ground. My beans came off in August, and then the
CHAP. II.] RUTA BAGA CULTURE. 79
ground was well dug between the rows of cabbages. In
September, mine had far surpassed the prime plants of my
neighbour. And, in the end I believe, that ten at my cab*
bages would have weighed a h undred of his?[leaving out the
stems in both cases. But, his had remained uncultivated
after planting. The ground, battered down by successive
rains, had become hard as a brick. All the stores of food
had been locked up, and lay in a dormant state. There
had been no renewed fermentations, and no exhalations.
62. Having now said what, 1 would fain hope, will
convince every feader of the folly of 'wait ing for a shower
in order to transplant plants of any soft, 1 will now speak
of the mere act of planting, more particularly than I have
hitherto spoken.
83. The hole is made sufficiently deep ; deeper than
the length of the root does really require ; but the root
should not be bent at the point, if it can be avoided.
Then, while one hand holds the plant, with its root in
the hole, the other hand applies the setting-stick to the
earth on one side of the hole, the stick being held in such
a way as to form a sharp triangle with the plant. Then
pushing the stick down, so that its point goes a little
deeper than the point of the root, and givinglt a little twist 9
it presses the earth against the point, or bottom of the
root. And thus all is safe, and the plant k sure to grow.
84. The general, and almost universal fault, is, that
the planter, when he has put the root into the hole,
draws the earth up against the upper part of the root or
stem, and, if he presses pretty well there, he thinks that
the planting is well done. But, it is the point of th«
root, against which the earth ought to be pressed, for
there the fibres are ; and, if they do not touch the earth
closely v the plant will not thrive. The- reasons have
been given in paragraphs 5 1 and 52, in speaking of the
sowing of seeds. It is the same in all cases of trans
planting or planting. Trees, for instance, will be sure
to grow, if you sift the earth, or pulverise it very finely,
and place it carefully and closely about the roots,
When we plant a tree, we see all covered by tumbling
in the earth ; and, it appears whimsical to suppose, that
the earth does not touch all the roots. But the fact is,
80 RUTA BAGA CULTURE. [Part I.
that unless great pains be taken, there will be many ca
vities in the hole where the tree is planted ; and, in what
ever places the earth does not closely touch the root,
the root will mouldy become cankered, and will lead to
the producing of a poor tree.
86. When I began transplanting in fields in England,
I had infinite difficulty in making my planters attend to
thedirections,which I have here given. "The point of the
stick to the point of the root /" was my constant cry. As
I could not be much with my work people, I used, in
order to try whether they had planted properly, to go
after them, and now-and-then take the tip of a leaf be
tween my finger and thumb. If the plant resisted the
pull, so as for the bit of leaf to come away, J was sure
that the plant was well fixed ; but, if the pull brought
up the plant out of the ground ; then I was sure, that
the planting was not well done. After the first field or
two, I had no trouble. My work was as well done, as
if the whole had been done by myself. My planting was
done chiefly by young women, each of whom would plant
half an acre a day, and their pay was ten-pence sterling
a day. What a shame, then, for any man to shrink at
the trouble and labour of such a matter ! Nor, let it be
imagined, that these young women were poor, misera
ble, ragged, squalid creatures. They were just the con
trary. On a Sunday they appeared in their white dresses,
and with silk umbrellas over their heads. Their constant
labour afforded the means of dressing well, their early
rising and exercise gave them health, their habitual
cleanliness and neatness, for which the women of the
South of England are so justly famed, served to aid in
the completing of their appearance, which was that of
fine rosy-cheeked country-girls, fit to be the helpmates,
and not the burdens, of their future husbands.
86. But at any rate, what can be said for a man that
thinks too much of such a piece of labour? The earth
is always grateful ; but it must and will have something
to be grateful for. As far as my little experience has
enabled me to speak, I find no want of willingness to
learn in any of the American workmen. Ours, in
England, are apt to be very obstinate, especially if get-
Chap. II. J RUTA BAGA CULTURE. 81
ting a little old. They do not like to be taught any
thing. They say, and they think, that what their fathers
did was best. To tell them, that it was your affair, and
not theirs, is nothing. To tell them, that the loss, if
any, will fall upon you, and not upon them, has very
little weight. They argue, that, they being the real
doers, ought to be the best judges of the modes of doing.
And, indeed, in most cases, they are, and go about this
work with wonderful skill and judgment. But, then, it
is so difficult to induce them cordially to do any thing
new, or any old thing in a new way ; and the abler they
are as workmen, the more untractable they are, and the
more difficult to be persuaded that any one knows any
thing, relating to farming affairs, better than they do.
It was this difficulty that made me resort to the employ
ment of young women in the most important part of my
farming , the providing of immense quantities of cattle-
food. But I do not find this difficulty here, where no
workmen are obstinate, and where, too, all one's neigh
bours rejoice at one's success, which is by no means the
case amongst the farmers in England.
87. Having now given instructions relative to the
business of transplanting of the Ruta Baga, let us see,
whether it be not preferable to either the ridge-sowihg
method, or the broad-cast method.
88. In the first place, when the seed is sown on the
ground where the plants are to come to perfection, the
ground, as we have seen in paragraph 40 and paragraph
47, must be prepared early in June, at the latest;
but, in the transplanting method, this work may be put
off, if need be, till early in August, as we have seen in
paragraph 74 and 15. However, the best time for trans
planting is about the 26th of July, and this gives a month
for preparation of land, more than is allowed in the sow
ing methods. This, of itself, is a great matter ; but, there
are others of far greater importance.
89. This transplanted crop may follow another crop
on the same land. Early cabbages will loave and be
away; early peas will be ripe and off; nay, even wheat,
and all grain, except buck-wheat, may be succeeded
by Ruta Baga transplanted. I had crops to succeed
D 5
82 RUTA BAGA CULTURE. [Parti.
Potatoes, Kidney Beans, White Peas, Onions, and
even Indian Corn, gathered to eat green ; and the
reader will please to bear in mind, that 1 did not sow,
or plant, any of my first crops, just mentioned, till the
month of June. What might a man do, then, who is
in a state to begin with his first crops as soon as he
pleases ? Who has his land all in order, and his manure
ready to be applied.
90. Another great advantage of the transplanting me
thod is, thatit saves almost the wholeof the after-culture.
There is no hoeing; no thinning of the plants ; and not
more than one ploughing between the ridges. This is a
great consideration, and should always be thought of,
when we are talking of the trouble of transplanting. The
turnips which 1 have mentioned iu paragraphs 72 and 73
had no after-culture of any sort ; for they soon spread
the ground over with their leaves; and, indeed3 after July,
very few weeds made their appearance. The season for
their coming up is passed ; and as every farmer well
knows, if there be no weeds up at the end of July,
very few will come that summer.
9 1 . Another advantage of the transplanting method is,
that you are sure that you have your right number of
plants, and those regularly placed. For in spite of all you
can do in sowing, there will be deficiencies and irregular
ities. The seed may not come up in some places. The
plants may, in some places, be destroyed in their infant
state. They may, now and then, be cut off with the hoe.
The best plants may sometimes be cut up, and the infe
rior plants left to grow. And, in the broad-cast method the
irregularity and uncertainty must be obvious to every one.
None of these injurious consequences can arise in the
transplanting method. Here,when the work is once well
done, the crop is certain, and all cares are at an end.
92. In taking my leave of this part of my treatise, I
must observe, that it is useless, and, indeed, unjust, for
any man to expect success, unless he attend to the thing
himself, at least, till he has made the matter perfectly
familiar to his work-people. To neglect any part of
the business is, in fact, to neglect the whole ; just as
much as neglecting to put up one of the sides of a build-
Chap. II.] RUTA BAGA CULTURE. 83
ing, is to neglect the whole building. Were it a matter
of trifling moment, personal attention might be dis
pensed with ; but, as I shall, I think, clearly shew, this
is a matter of very great moment to every farmer. The
objeet is, not merely to get roots, but to get them of a
large size ; for, as I shall show, there is an amazing
difference in this. And, large roots are not to be gotten
without care, which, by the by, costs nothing. Besides
the care bestowed in obtaining this crop, removes all
the million of cares and vexations of the Spring months,
when bleatings everlasting din the farmer almost out of
his senses, and make him ready to knock the brains out
of the clamorous flock, when he ought to feel pleasure
in' the rilling of their bellies.
93. Having now done with the different modes of crop
ping the ground with Ruta Baga, I will, as I proposed in
paragraph 49, speak about the preparation of the land
generally ; and in doing this, I shall suppose the land to
have borne a good crop of wheat the preceding year, and,
of course, to be in good heart, as we call it in England.
94. I would plough this ground in the fall into ridges
fonr feet asunder. The ploughing should be very deep,
and the ridges well laid up. In this situation it would,
by the successive frosts and thaws, be shaken and
broken fine as powder by March or April. In April,
it should be turned back ; always ploughing deep. A
crop of weeds would be well set upon it by the first of
June, when they should be smothered by another turn*-
ing back. Then, about the third week in June, I would
carry in my manure, and fling it along on the trenches
or furrows. After this I would follow the turning back
for the sowing, as is directed in paragraph 50. Now,
here srefour ploughings. And what is the cost of
these ploughings ? My man, a black man, a native of
this Island, ploughs, with his pair of oxen and no driver,
an acre and a half a-day, and his oxen keep their flesh
extremely well upon the refuse of the Ruta Baga which
I send to market. What is the cost then ? And what a
fine state the grass is thus brought into ! A very differ
ent thing indeed is it to plough hard ground, from what
it is to plough ground in this fine, broken state. Besides,
S4 RUTA BAGA CULTURE. [Part I.
every previous ploughing, especially deep ploughing, is
equal to a seventh part of an ordinary coat of manure.
95. In the broad-cast method I would give the same
number of previous ploughing!*, and at the same seasons
of the year. I would spread the mauuie over the ground
just before I ploughed it for sowing. Then when I
ploughed for the sowing, I would, if I had only one
pair of oxen, plough about half an acre, harrow the
ground, sow it immediately, and roll it with a light
roller, which a little horse might draw, in order to press
the earth about the seeds, and cover them too. There
need be no harrowing after sowing. We never do it in
England. The roller does all very completely, and
the sowing upon the fresh earth will, under any sun,
furnish the moisture sufficient. I once sowed on ridges,
with a BENNETT'S drill, and neither harrowed nor
rolled nor used any means at all of covering the seed ;
and yet I had plenty of plants and a very fine crop of
turnips. J sowed a piece of white turnips, broad-cast,
at Hyde Park, last summer, on the eleventh of August,
which did very well, though neither harrowed nor rolled
after being sown. But in both these cases, there came
rain directly after the sowing, which battered down the
seeds; and which rain, indeed, it was, which prevented
the rolling : for, that cannot take place when the ground is
wet ; because, then the earth will adhere to the roller,
^ which will go on growing in size like a rolling snow-ball.
To harrow after the sowing is sure to do mischief. We
always bury seeds too deep ; and, in the operation of
harrowing more than half the seeds of turnips must be
destroyed, or rendered useless. If a seed lies beyond
the proper depth, it will either remain in a quiescent state,
until some movement of the earth bring it up to the dis
tance from the surface which will make it vegetate, or, it
will vegetate, and come up later than the rest of the plants.
It will be feebler also ; and it will never be equal to a
plant, which has come from a seed near the surface.
96. Before I proceed further, it may not be amiss to
say something more respecting the burying of seed,
though it may here be rather out of place. Seeds bu
ried below their proper depth, do not come up; but,
Chap. II.] RUTA BAG A CULTURE. 85
many of them are 'near enough to the surface, some
times, to vegetate, without coming up ; and then they
die. This is the case, in many instances, with more
than one half of the seed that is sown. But, if seeds
be buried so deep, that they do not even vegetate^ then
they do not die ; and this is one cause, though not the
only cause, of our wondering to see weeds come up,
where we are sure that no seeds have fallen for many
years. At every digging, or every ploughing, more or
less of the seeds, that have formerly been buried, come
up near the- surface ; and then they vegetate. I have
seen many instances in proof of this fact ; but, the par
ticular instance on which I found the positiveness of
my assertion, \vas in Parsnip seed. It is a very deli
cate seed. It will, if beat out, keep only one year. \
had a row of fine seed parsnips in my garden, many of
the seeds of which fell in the gathering. The ground
was dug, in the fall ; and, when I saw it full of par
snips in the Spring, I only regarded this as a proof, that
parsnips might be sown in the fall, though I have since
proved, that it is a very bad practice. The ground was
dug again, and again for several successive years ; and
there was always a crop of parsnips, without a grain
of seed ever having been sown on it. But lest any one
should take it into his head, that this is a most delightful
way of saving the trouble of sowing, I ought to state,
that the parsnips coming thus at random, gave me a
great deal more labour, than the same crop would have
given me in the regular way of sowing. Besides, the
fall is not the time to sow, as my big and white pars
nips, now selling in New York market, may clearly
show; seeing they were sown in June! And yet,
people are flocking to the Western Countries in search
of rich land, while thousands of acres of such land as
I occupy are lying waste in Long Island, within three
hours' drive of the all-consuming and incessantly in
creasing city of New York !
Q7. I have now spoken of the preparation of the
land for the reception of seeds. As to the preparation
in the case of transplantation, it might be just the same
as for the sowing on ridges. But here might, in this
'86 RUTA BAGA CULTURE. [Part I.
case be one more previous ploughing, always taking
care to plough in dry weather , which is an observation
I ought to have made before.
98. But why should not the plants, in this case suc
ceed some other good crop, as mentioned before ? 1
sowed some early peas (brought from England) on the
2nd of June. I harvested them, quite ripe and hard,
on the 31st of July; and I had very tine Ruta Baga,
some weighing six pounds each, after the peas. How
little is known of the powers of this soil and climate !
My potatoes were of the kidney sort, which, as every
one knows, is not an early sort. They were planted on
the 2nd of June ; and they were succeeded by a most
abundant crop of Ruta Baga. And, the manure for
the peas and potatoes served for the Ruta Baga also.
In surveying my crops and feeling grateful to the kind
earth and the glorious sun that produce these, to me,
most delightful objects^ how often have I turned, with an
aching heart, towards the ill-treated Enlighmen, shut
up in dungeons by remorseless tyrants, while not a word
had been uttered in their defence by, and while they
were receiving not one cheering visit, or comforting word
from, SIR FRANCIS BURDETT, who had been the great
immediate cause of their incarceration !
99. As to the quantity and sort of manure to be used
in general, it may be the same as for a sowing of rye,
or of wheat. I should perfer ashes ; but, my large
crops in England were on yard-dung, first thrown into
a heap, and afterwards turned once or twice, in the
usual manner as practised in England. At Hyde Park
I had nothing but Takings up about the yard, barn, &G.
as described before. What I should do, and what I
shall do this year, is, to make ashes out of dirt or earth,
of any sort, uot very stony. Nothing is so easy as this,
especially in this fine climate. I see people go with
their wagons five miles for soaper's ashes ; that is to say,
spent ashes, which they purchase at the landing place
(for they come to the island in vessels) at the rate of
about five dollars for forty bushels. Add the expense
of land carriage, and the forty bushels do not cost less
than ten dollars, I am of opinion, that, by the burning
Chap. II.] RUTA BAG A CULTURE. 87
of earth, as much manure may be got up on the land
for half a dollar. I made an experiment last summer,
which convinces me, that, if the spent ashes be receiv
ed as a gift at three miles' distance of land-carriage, they
are not a gift worth accepting. But, this experiment
was upon a small scale ; and therefore, I will not now
speak positively on the subject.
100. I am now preparing to make a perfect trial of
these ashes. I have just ploughed up a piece of ground, in
which, a few years ago, Indian Corn was planted, and
produced, as I am assured, only stalks, and those not
more than two feet high. The ground has, every year
since borne a crop of weeds, rough grass, and briars, or
brambles. The piece is about ten acres. I intend to
have Indian corn on it ; and my manure shall be made
on the spot, and consist of nothing but burnt earth. If
I have a decent crop of Indian corn on this land so ma
nured, it will, I think, puzzle my good neighbours to give
a good reason for their going Jive miles for spent ashes.
101. Whether I succeed, or not, I will give an ac
count of my experiment. This I know, that 1, in the
year 1815, burnt ashes, in one heap, to the amount of
about two hundred English cart-loads, each load hold
ing about forty bushels. I should not suppose, that the
burning cost me more than Jive dollars; and there they
were upon the spot, in die very field, where they were
used. As to their effect I used them for the transplant
ed Ruta Baga and Mangel Wurzel, and they produced
full as great an effect as the yard-dung used on the same
land. This process of burning earth into ashes with
out suffering the smoke to escape, during any part of
the process, is a discovery of Irish origin, it was point
ed out to me by Mr. WILLIAM GAUNTLETT of Win
chester, late a Commissary with the army in Spain. To
this gentleman I also owe, England owes, and I hope
America will owe, the best sort ]of hogs, that are, I
believe, in the world. I was wholly unacquainted with
Mr. GAUNTLETT, till the summer of 1815, when,
happening to pass by my farm, he saw my hogs, cows,
&c. and when he came by my house he called, and told
me, that he had observed, that I wanted only a good
88 RUTA BAGA CULTURE. [Part I.
sort of hogs, to make my stock complete, I thought,
that 1 already had the finest in England ; and I certainly
had a very fine breed, the father of which, with legs not
more than about six inches long, weighed, when he was
killed, twenty -seven score, according to our Hampshire
mode of stating hog-meat weight ; or, Jive hundred and
forty pounds. This breed has been fashioned by Mr.
WOODS of Woodmancut in Sussex, who has been, I be
lieve, more than twenty years about it. I thought it per
fection itself; but, I was obliged to confess, that Mr.
GAUNTLETT'S surpassed it.
102. Of the earth burning I will give an account in
my next PART of this work. Nothing is easier of per
formance ; and the materials are every w here to be found.
103. 1 think, that I have now pretty clearly given an
account of the modes of sowing, and planting, and cul
tivating the Ruta Baga, and of the preparation of
the land. It remains for me to speak of the time and
manner of harvesting, the quantity of the crop, and of
the uses of, and the mode of applying the crop.
Time and Manner of Harvesting.
104. This must depend, in some measure, upon the
age of the turnip ; for some will have their full growth
earlier than others ;.that is to say, those, which are sown
first, or transplanted first, will be ripe before those which
are sown, or transplanted latest. I have made ample
experiments as to this matter ; and I w ill, as in former
cases, first relate what I did ; and then give my opinion
as to what ought to be done.
105. This was a concern in which I could have no
know ledge last fall, never having seen any turnips har
vested in America, and knowing, that, as to American
frosts, English experience was only likely to mislead ;
for, in England, we leave the roots standing in the
ground all the winter, where we feed them off with sheep,
which scoop them out to the very bottom ; or we pull
them as we want them, and bring them in to give to fat
ting oxen, to cows, or hogs. I had a great opinion of the
hardiness of the Ruta Baga, and was resolved to try it
here, and I did try it upon too large a scale.
Chap. II.] RtJTA BAG A CULTURE. $$
IOC). I began with the piece, the first mentioned in
paragraph 46 ; a part of them were taken up on the VMli
of December, after we had had some pretty hard frosts.
The manner of doing the work was this. We took up
the turnips merely by pulling them. The greens had
been cut off and given to cattle before. It required a
spade, however, just to loosen them along the ridges,
into which their tap-roots had descended very deeply.
We dug holes at convenient distances, of a square form,
and about a foot deep. We put into each hole about
fifty bushels of turnips, piling them up above the level
of the surface of the land, in a sort of pyramidical form.
When the heap was made, we scattered over it about a
truss of rye-straw, and threw earth over the whole to a
thickness of about a foot, taking care to point the co
vering at top, in order to keep out wet.
107. Thus was a small part of the piece put up. The
14th of December was a Sunday, a day that I can find
no Gospel precept for devoting to the throwing away of
the fruit of one's labours, and a day which I never will
so devote again. However, I ought to have been earlier.
On the Monday it rained. On the Monday night came
a sharp North-Wester with its usual companion at this
season; that is to say, a. sharp frost . Resolved to finish
this piece on that day. I borrowed hands from my neigh-
bours,whoare always ready to assist one another. We had
about two acres and a half to do ; and it was necessary to
employ about one half of the hands to go before the
pullers and loosen the turnips with a spade in the frosty
ground. About ten o'clock, I saw, that we should not
finish, and there was every appearance of a hard frost
at night. In order, therefore, to expedite the work, I
called in the aid of those efficient fellow-labourers, a
pair of oxen, which, with a. good strong plough, going
up one side of each row of turnips, took a way the earth
close to the bulbs, left them bare on one side, and thus
made it extremely easy to pull them up. We wanted
spades no longer ; all our hands were employed taking
up the turnips ; and our job, instead of being half done
that day, was completed by about two o'clock. Well
and justly did MOSES order, that the ox should not be
00 RUTA BAGA CULTURE. [Part I.
muzzled while he was treading out the corn ; for, surely,
no animals are so useful, so docile, so gentle as these,
while they require at our hands so little care and labour
in return !
108. Now, it will be observed, that the turnips here
spoken of, were put up when the ground and the tur
nips were frozen. Yet they have kept perfectly sound
and good ; and I am preparing to plant some of them
for seed. I am now writing on the Wth of April. I
send off these turnips to market every week. The tops
and tails and offal I give to the pigs, to the ewes and
lambs, and to a cow, and to working oxen, which all
feed together upon this offal flung out about the barn
yard, or on the grass ground in the orchard. Before they
have done, they leave not a morsel. But, of feeding I
shall speak by and by.
109. The other crop of turnips, I mean those which
were transplanted, as mentioned in paragraphs 72 and
73, and which, owing to their being planted so late in
the summer, kept on growing most luxuriantly till the
very hard frosts came.
1 10. We were now got on to the 17th of December ;
and I had cabbages to put up* Saturday, Sunday, and
Monday, the 21st and 22nd and 23rd, we had a very
hard frost, as the reader, if he live on this island, will
well remember. There came a thaw afterwards, and
the transplanted turnips were put up like the others ;
but this hard frost had pierced them too deeply, espe
cially as they were in so tender and luxuriant a state.
Many of these we find rotted near the neck ; and, upon
the whole, they have suffered a loss of about one half.
An acre, left to take their chance in the fold, turned out
like most of the games of hazard, a total loss. They
were all rotted.
111. This loss arose wholly from my want of suffi
cient experience. I was anxious to neglect no necessary
precaution ; and I was fully impressed, as I always
am, with the advantages of being early. But early in
December, I lost a week at New York ; and though
1 worried my neighbours half to death to get at a know
ledge of the time of the hard weather setting in, I could
Chap. II.] RUTA BAGA CULTURE. fH
obtain no knowledge, on which I could rely, the seve
ral accounts being so different from each other. The
general account was, that there would be no very hard
weather till after Christmas. I shall know better ano
ther time ! MAJOR CART WRIGHT says, in speaking of
the tricks of English Boroughrnongers, at the" Glorious
Revolution," that they will never be able to play the
same tricks again ; for that nations, like rational indi
viduals, are not deceived twice in the same way.
1 19. Thus have I spoken of the time and mariner of
harvesting, as they took place \vith me. And, surely,
the expense is a mere trifle. Two oxen and four men
would harvest two acres in any clear day in the latter
end of November : and thus is this immense crop har
vested, and covered completely, for about two dollars
and a half an acre. It it astonishing, that this is never
done in England ! For, though it is generally said,
that the Ruta Baga will stand ant/ weather; I know, by
experience, that it will not stand any weather. The
winter of the year 1814, that is to say, the months of
January and February, were very cold, and a great
deal of snow fell; and, in a piece of twelve acres, I
had, in the month of March, two thirds of the turnips
completely rotten; and these were amongst the finest
that I ever gre\v, many of them weighing twelve pounds
each. Besides, when taken up in dry weather, before
the freezings and thawings begin, the dirt all falls off ;
and the bulbs are clean and nice to be given to cat
tle or sheep in the stalls or yards. For, though we
in general feed off these roots upon the land with sheep,
we cannot, in deep land, always do it. The land is
too wet ; and particularly for ewes arid lambs, which
are, in such cases, brought into a piece of pasture land,
or into a fold-yard, where the turnips are flung down
to them in a dirty state, just carted from the field. And,
again, the land is very much injured, and the labour
augmented, by carting when the ground is a sort of
mud-heap, or rather, pool. All these inconveniences
and injuries would be avoided by harvesting in a dry
day in November, if such a day should, by an accident,
be found in England ; but, why not do the work h*
§2 RUTA BAGA CULTURE. [Parti.
October, and sow wheat, at once, in the land ? More
on this after-cropping, another time.
113. In Long Island, and throughout the United
States, where the weather is so fine in the fall ; where
every da}7, from the middle of October to the end of No
vember (except a rainy day about once in 16 days,) is as
fair as the fairest May-day in England, and where such a
thing as a. water-fur row in a field was never heard of ;
in such a soil as this, and under such a climate as this,
there never can arise any difficulty in the way of the har
vesting of turnips in proper time. I should certainly do
it in November ; for, as we have seen, a little frost does
not affectthe bulbs at all. I would put them in when per
fectly dry ; make my heaps of about fifty bushels ; and,
when the frosts approached, I mean the hard frosts, I
would cover with corn-stalks, or straw, or cedar boughs,
as many of the heaps as 1 thought 1 should want in Ja
nuary and February ; for, these coverings would so break
the frost, as to enable me to open the heaps in those se
vere months. It is useless and inconvenient to take into
barns, or out-houses, a very large quantity at a time. Be
sides, if left uncovered, the very hard frosts will do them
harm. To be sure, this is easily prevented, in the barn,
by throwing a little straw over the heap ; but being
by the means that I have pointed out, always kept ready
in the field, to bring in a larger quantity than is used in
a week, or thereabouts, would be wholly unnecessary,
besides being troublesome, from the great space which
would thus be occupied.
1 14. It is a great advantage in the cultivation of this
crop, that the sowing, or transplanting time, comes after
all the spring grain and the Indian Corn are safe in the
ground, and before the harvest of grain begins : and
then again, in the fall, the taking up of the roots comes
after the grain and corn, and buck-wheat harvests, and
even after the sowing of the winter grain. In short, it
seems to me, that the cultivation of this crop, in this
country, comes, as it were expressly, to fill up the un
employed spaces of the farmer's time ; but, if he pre
fer standing with arms folded, during these spaces of
time, and hearing his flock bleat themselves half to
Chap, II.] RUTA BAGA CULTURE. 93
death in March and April, or have no flock, and
scarcely any cattle or hogs, raise a few loads of yard-
dung, and travel five miles for ashes, and buy them dear
at the end of the five miles ; if he prefer these, then,
certainly, I shall have written on this subject in vain.
Quantity of the Crop.
115. It is impossible for me to say, at present, what
quantity of Ruta Baga may be grown on an acre of land
in this Island. My three acres, of ridged turnips sown on
the 26th of June, were very unequal, but, upon one of
the acres, there were six hundred and forty bushels ; I
mean heaped bushels ; that is to say, an English statute
bushel heaped as long as the commodity will lie on. The
transplanted turnips yielded about four hundred bush
els to the acre ; but then, observe, they were put in a full
month too late. This year I shall make a fair trial.
1 16. I have given an account of my raising, upon five
acres in one field, and twelve acres in another field, one
thousand three hundred and twenty bushels to an acre,
throughout the seventeen acres. I have no doubt of
equalling that quanity on this Island, and that, too, upon
some of its poorest and most exhausted land. They tell
me, indeed, that the last summer was a remarkably
fine summer ; so they said at Botley, when I had my
first prodigious crop of Ruta Baga. This is the case in
all the pursuits of life. The moment a man excels those,
who ought to be able and willing to do as well as he ; that
moment, others set to work to discover causes for his
success, other than those proceeding from himself.
But, as I used to tell my neighbours at Botley, they
have had the same seasons that I have had. Nothing
is so impartial as weather. As long as this sort of ob
servation, or inquiry, proceeds from a spirit of emula
tion, it may be treated with great indulgence : but,
when it discovers a spirit of envy, it becomes detesta
ble, and especially in affairs of agriculture, where the
appeal is made to our common Parent, and where no
man's success can be injurious to his neighbour, while
it must be a benefit to his country, or the country in
which the success takes place. I must, however, say,
94 RUTABAGA CULTURE. [Parti.
.and 1 say it with feelings of great pleasure as well as
from a sense of justice, that I have observed in the
American farmers no envy of the kind alluded to ; but,
on the contrary, the greatest satisfaction, at my success ;
and not the least backwardness, but great forwardness,
to applaud and admire my mode of cultivating these
.crops. Not so in England, where thej'armers (generally
the most stupid as well as most slavish and most churlish
part of the nation) envy all who excel them, while they
are too obstinate to profit from the example of those
•whom they envy. I say generally ; for there are many
most honourable exceptions ; and, it is amongst
that class of men that I have my dearest and most
esteemed friends ; men of knowledge, of experience,
of integrity, and of public spirit, equal to that of the
best of Englishmen in the worst times of oppression. I
would not exchange the friendship of one of these men
for that of all the Lords that ever were created, though
there are some of them very able and upright men, too.
117. Then, if i may be suffered to digress a little
further here, there exists, in England, an institution
which has caused a sort of identity of agriculture with
politics. The Board of Agriculture, established by
Pitt for the purpose of sending spies about the country,
under the guise of Agricultural surveyors, in order to
learn the cast of men's politics, as well as the taxable
capacities of their farms and property ; this Board
gives no premium or praise to any but " loyal farmers,"
who are generally the greatest fools. I, for my part,
have never had any communication with it. It was
always an object of ridicule and contempt with me ;
but, I know this to be the rule of that body, which is,
in fact, only a little twig of the vast tree of corruption,
which stunts, and blights, and blasts, all that ap
proaches its poisoned purlieu. This Board has for its
Secretary, Mr. ARTHUR You NO, a man of great talents,
bribed from his good principles by this place of five
hundred pounds a year. But Mr. YOUNG, though a
most able man, is not always to be trusted. He is a
bold asserter; and very few of his statements proceed
upon actual experiments. And as to what this Board
Chap. II.] RUTA BAGA CULTURE. 95
has published, at the public expense, under the name of
Communications, 1 defy the world to match it as a mass
of illiterate, unintelligible, useless trash. The only paper,
published by this Board, that I ever thought worth keep
ing, was an account of the produce from a single cow,
communicated by Mr. CRAMP, the jail-keeper of the
County of Sussex ; which contained very interesting and
wonderful facts, properly authenticated, and stated in a
clear manner.
118. ARTHUR YOUNG is blind, and never attends the
Board. Indeed, sorrowful to relate, he is become a
religious fanatic, and this in so desperate a degree as to
leave no hope of any possible cure. In the pride of our
health and strength, of mind as well as of body, we little
dream of the chances and changes of old age. Who can
read the " Travels in France, Spain, and Italy " and
reflect on the present state of the admirable writer's mind,
without feeling some diffidence as to what may happen
to himself!
119. LOR DHAR.DWiCKE,who is now the President of
the Board, is a man, not exceeding my negro, either in
experience or natural abilities. A parcel of court-syco
phants are the Vice-Presidents. Their committees and
correspondents are a set of justices of the peace, nabobs
become country-gentlemen, and parsons of the worst de
scription. And thus is this a mere political job; a channel
for the squandering of some thousands a year of the peo^
pie's money upon worthless men, who ought to be work
ing in the fields, or mending " His Majesty's highways."
120. Happily, politics, in this country, have nothing
to do with agriculture ; and here, therefore, I think I
have a chance to be fairly heard. I should indeed, have
been heard in England ; but, I really could never bring
myself to do any thing tending to improve the estates of
the oppressors of my country ; and the same considera
tion now restrains me from communicating information,
on the subject of timber trees, which would be of im
mense benefit to England ; and which information I
shall reserve, till the tyranny shall be at an end. Castle-
reagh, in the fulness of his stupidity, proposed, that, in
order to find employment for " the population," as he
96 RUTA BAGA CULTURE. [Parti.
insolently called the people of England, he would set
them to dig holes one day and fill them up the next. I
could tell him what to plant in the holes, so as to benefit
the country in an immense degree; but, like the human
body in some complaints, the nation would now be
really injured by the communications of what, if it were
in a healthy state, would do it good, add to its strength,
and to all its means of exertion.
121. To return from this digression, I am afraid of
no bad seasons. The drought, which is the great enemy
to be dreaded in this country, I am quite prepared for.
Give me ground that 1 can plough ten or twelve inches
deep, and give me Indian corn spaces to plough in, and
no sun can burn me up. I have mentioned Mr. CUR-
WEN'S experiment before : or, rather TULL'S; for he it
is, who made all the discoveries of this kind. Let any
man, just to try, leave half a rod of ground nndug from
the month of May to that of October ; and another half
rod let him dig and break Jine every ten or fifteen days.
Then, whenever there has been fifteen days of good
scorching sun, let him go and dig a hole in each. If
he does not find the hard ground dry as dust, and the
other moist ; then let him say, that I know nothing about
these matters. So erroneous is the common notion, that
ploughing in dri/ weather lets in the drought !
122. Of course, proceeding upon this fact, which I
state as the result of numerous experiments, I should,
if visited with long droughts, give one or two additional
ploughings between the crops when growing. That is
all ; and, with this, in Long Island, I defy all droughts.
123. But, why need I insist upon this effect of plough
ing in dry weather ? Why need 1 insist on it in an
Indian corn country ? Who has not seen fields of Indian
corn looking, to day, yellow and sickly, and, in four
days hence (the weather being dry all the while,) look
ing green and flourishing ; and this wonderful effect
produced merely by the plough ! Why, then, should
not the same effect always proceed from the same
cause ? The deeper you plough, the greater the effect,
however ; for there is a greater body of earth to exhale
from, and to receive back the tribute of the atmosphere.
Mr. CUR WEN tells us of a piece of cattle-cabbages. In
Chap. 11.] RUTA BAGA CULTURE. 97
a very dry time in July, they looked so yellow and blue,
that he almost despaired of them. He sent in his
plo'.ighs ; and a gentleman, who had seen them when
the ploughs went in on the Monday, could scarcely be
lieve his eyes when he saw them on the next Saturday,
though it had continued dry all the week.
124. To perform these summer ploughings, in this
island, is really nothing. The earth is so light and in
such fine order, and so easily displaced and replaced.
I used one horse for the purpose, last summer, and a
very slight horse indeed. An ox is, however, better
for this work ; and this may be accomplished by the use
of a collar and two traces, or by a single yoke and two
traces. TULL recommends the latter; and I shall try
it for Indian corn as well as for turnips.* Horses, if
they are strong enough, are not so steady as oxen, which
are more patient also, and with which you may send the
* Since the above paragraph was written, I have made a single-ox-
yoke : and, I find it answer excellently well. Now, my work is much
shortened; for, informing ridges, two oxen are awkward. They
occupy a wide space, and one of them is obliged to walk upon the
ploughed land, which, besides making the ridge uneven at top, pres
ses the ground, which is injurious. For ploughing between the rows
of turnips and hidian corn also, what a great convenience this will be !
An ox goes steadier than a horse, and will plough deeper, without
fretting and without tearing ; and he wants neither harness maker nor
groom. The plan of my yoke I took from TULL. I showed it to my
workmen, who chopped off the limb of a tree, and made the yoke in
an hour. It is a piece of wood, with two holes to receive two ropes,
about three quarters of an inch in diameter. These traces are fasten
ed into the yoke merely by a knot, which prevents the ends from
passing through the holes, while the other ends are fastened to the
two ends of a Wiffle-tree, as it is called in Long Island, of a Wipple-
tree as it is called in Kent, and of a Wippance, as it is called in Hamp
shire. I am but a poor draftsman ; but, if the printer can find any
thing to make the representation with, the following draft will clear
ly show what I have, meant to describe in words —
98 RUTA BAGA CULTURE. [Parti.
plough-share down without any of the fretting and une
qual pulling, or jerking, that you have to encounter with
horses. And, as to the slow pace of the ox, it is the
old story of the tortoise and the hare. If 1 had known,
in England, of the use of oxen, what I have been taught
upon Long Island, I might have saved myself some
hundreds of pounds a year. I ought to have followed
TULL in this as in all other parts of his manner of culti
vating land. But, in our country, it is difficult to get a
ploughman to look at an ox. In this Island the thing is
done so completely and so easily, that it was, to me,
quite wonderful to behold. To see one of these Long-
Islanders going into the field, or orchard, at sun-rise,
with his yoke in his hand, call his oxen byname to come
and put their necks under the yoke, drive them before
him to the plough, just hitch a hook on to the ring of
the yoke, and then, without any thing except a single
< hain and the yoke, with no reins, no halter, no traces,
no bridle, no driver, set to plough, and plough a good
acre and a half in the day. To see this would make an
English farmer stare ; and well it might, when he look
ed back to the ceremonious and expensive business of
keeping and managing a plough-team in England.
125. . These are the means,which I would, and which
I shall, use, to protect my crops against the effects of a
dry season. So that, as every one has the same means
tit his command, no one need to be afraid of drought. It
is a bright plough-share that is always wanted much
more than the showers. With this culture there is no
fear of a crop ; and though it amount to only five hun
dred bushels on an acre, what crop is half so valuable
126. The bulk of crop, however, in the broad-cast
or random method, may be materially affected by
drought; for in that case, the plough cannot come to sup-
When the corn (Indian) and turnips get to a size, sufficient to at
tract the appetite of the ox, you have only to put on a muzzle. This
is what Mr. TUI.L did ; for, though we ought not to muzzle the ox
" as he treadetk out tke corn," we may do it, even for his own sake,
amongst other considerations, when ha is assisting us to brir.tr the
crcp to perfection.
Chap. II.] RUTA BAGA CULTURE. 99
ply the place of showers. The ground there will be dry,
and keep dry in a dry time ; as in the case of the suppos
ed half rod of undug ground in the garden. The weeds,
too, will come and help by their roots, to suck the moisture
out of the ground. As to the hand-hoeings, they may
keep down weeds to be sure, and they raise a trifling
portion of exhalation ; but, it is trifling indeed. Dry
weather, if of long continuation, makes the leaves be
come of a bluish colour ; and, when this is once the case,
all the raiu and all the fine weather in the world will never
make the crop a good one ; becauseothe plough cannot
move amidst this scene of endless irregularity. This is
one of the chief reasons why the ridge method is best.
Uses of , and Mode of applying, the Crop.
1 27. It is harder to say what uses this root may not be
put to, than what uses it may be put to, in the feeding of
animals. It is eaten greedily by sheep, horn-cattle, and
hogs, in its raw state. Boiled, or steamed, (which is bet
ter,) no dog that I ever saw will refuse it. Poultry of all
sorts will live upon it in its cooked state. Some dogs will
even eat it raw ; a fact that I first became acquainted with
by perceiving my shepherd's dog eating in the field
along with the sheep. 1 have two Spaniels that come
into the barn and eat it now : and yet they are both in
fine condition. Some horses will nearly live upon it in
the raw state ; others are not so fond of ft.
1G8. l^et me give an account of what I am doing now
(in the month of April) with my crop.
129. It is not pretended, that this root, measure for
measure, is equal to Indian corn in the ear. Therefore,
as I can get Indian corn in the ear for half a dollar a
bushel, and, as I .sell my Ruta Baga for half a dollar
a bushel at New York, I am very sparing of the use
of the latter for animals. Indeed, I use none at home,
except such as have been injured, as above-mentioned,
by the delay in the harvesting. These damaged roots
1 apply in the following manner.
130. Twice a day I take about two bushels, and scatter
them about Upon the grass for fifteen ewes with their
lambs, and a few wether sheep, and for seven stout
100 RUTA BAGA CULTURE. [Part L
store pigs, which eat with them. Once a day I fling
out a parcel of the refuse that have been cut from the
roots sent to market, along with cabbage leaves and
stems, parsnips, fibres, and the like. Here the work
ing oxen, hogs, cows, sheep, and fowls, all feed as they
please. All these animals are in excellent condition.
The cow has no other food; the working oxen a lock
of hay twice a day ; the ewes an ear of J ndian corn
each; the pigs nothing but the roots; the fowls and
ducks and turkeys are never fed in any other way,
though they know how to feed themselves whenever there
is any thing good' to be found above ground.
131.1 am weaning some pigs, which as every one
knows, is an affair of milk and meal. I have neither.
1 give about three buckets of boiled Ruta Bagato seven
pigs every day, not having any convenience for steam
ing ; two baits of Indian corn in the ear. And, with
this diet, increasing the quanity with the growth of
the pigs, I expect to turn them out of the sty fatter (if
that be possible) than they entered it. Now, if this be
so, every fanner will say, that this is what never was
done before in America. We all know how important
a thing it is to wean a pig well. Any body can wean
them without milk and meal ; but, then, the pigs are
good for nothing. They remain three months after
wards and never grow an inch ; and they are, indeed,
not worth having. To have milk, you must have cows,
and cows are vast consumers ! To have cows, you mast
have female labour, which, in America, is a very pre
cious commodity. You cannot have meal without
sharing in kind pretty liberal with the miller, besides
bestowing labour, however busy you may be, to
c^rry the corn to mill and bring the meal back. I
am, however, speaking here of the pigs from my Eng
lish breed ; though 1 am far from supposing that the
common pigs might not be weaned in the same way.
132. Sows with young pigs I feed thus : boiled Ruta
l-.ngd twice a day. About three ears of Indian corn
a piece twice a day. As much offal Ruta Baga raw
as they will eat. Amongst this boiled Ruta Baga, the
pot-liquor of the house goes of course ; but, then, the
Chap. II.] RUTA BAGA CULTURE. 101
dogs I dare say, take care that the best shall fall to
their lot ; and as there are four of them pretty fat, their
share cannot be very small. Every one knows what
good food, how much meal and milk, are necessary to
sows which have pigs. I have no milk, for my cow
has not yet calved. And, then, what a chance concern
this is ; for, the sows may perversely have pigs at the
time when the cows do not please to give milk ; or, ra
ther, when they, poor things, without any fault of theirs,
are permitted to go dry, which never need be, and never
ought to be the case. I had a cow once that made
more than two pounds of butter during the week, arid
had a calf on the Saturday night. Cows always ought
to be milked to the very day of their calving, and dur
ing the whole time of their suckling their calves. But,
" sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof." Let us
leave this matter till another time. Having, however,
accidentally mentioned cows, I will just observe, that
in the little publication of Mr. CRAMP, mentioned above,
as having been printed by the Board of Agriculture, it
was stated and the proof given, that his single cow gave
him, clear profit, for several successive years, more
than fifty pounds sterling a year, or upwards of two
hundred and twenty dollars. This was clear profit ;
reckoning the food and labour, and taking credit for the
calf, the butter, and for the skim-milk at a penny a
quart only. Mr. CRAMP'S was a Sussex cow. Mine
were of the Alderney breed. Little small-boned things ;
but, two of my cows, fed upon three quartet s of an
acre of grass ground, in the middle of my shrubbery,
and fastened to pins in the ground, which were shifted
twice a day, made three hundred pounds oi butter from
the 28th of March to the 27th of June. This is a finer
country for cattle than England ; and yet, what do I see!
133. This difficulty about feeding sows with young
pigs and weaning pigs, is one of the greatest hinder-
ances to improvement ; for, after all, what animal
produces flesh meat like the hog? Applicable to all
uses, either fresh or salted, is the meat. Good in all its
various shapes. The animal killable at all ages.
Quickly fatted. Good if half fat. Capable of sup-
102 RUTA BAGA CULTURE. [Part 1.
porting an immense burden of fat. Demanding but
little space for its accommodation ; and yet, if grain
and corn and milk are to be their principal food dur
ing their lives, they cannot multiply very fast ; because
many upon a farm cannot be kept to much profit. But,
if by providing a sufficiency of lluta Baga, a hundred
pigs could be raised upon a farm in a year, and car
ried on till fatting time, they would be worth, when
ready to go into the fatting *ty, fifteen dollars each.
This would be something worth attending to ; and the
farm must become rich from the manure. The Ruta
Baga, taken out of the heaps early in April, will keep
well and sound all the summer ; and with a run in an
orchard, or in a grassy place, it will keep a good sort of
hog always in a very thriving, and even fleshy state.
134. This root, being called a turnip, is regarded as
a turnip, as a common turnip, than which nothing can
be much less resembling it. The common turnip is a
very poor thing. The poorest of all the roots of the
bulb kind, cultivated in the fields; and the Ruta Baga,
all taken together, is, perhaps, the very best. It loses
none of its good qualities by being long kept, though
dry all the while. A neighbour of mine in Hampshire,
having saved a large piece of Ruta Baga for seed, and
having, after harvesting the seed, accidently thrown
some of the roots into his yard, saw his hogs eat these
old roots, which had borne the seed. He gave them
some more, and saw that they ate them greedily. He,
therefore, went and bought a whole drove, in number
about forty, of lean pigs, of a good large size, brought
them into his yard, carted in the roots of his seed Ruta
Baga, and, without having given the pigs a handful of
any other sort of food, sold out his pigs as fat porkers.
And, indeed, it is a fact well known, that sheep and
cattle, as well as hogs, will thrive upon this root after
it has borne seed, whi<jh is what, i believe, can be said
of no other root or plant.
135. When we feed off our Ruta Baga in the fields
in England, by sheep, there are small parts left by the
sheep : the shells which they have left after scooping
out the pulp of the bulb; the tap-root; and other little
Chap. 11.] RUTA BAGA CULTURE. 103
bits. Theso are picked out of the ground, and when
washed by the tain, other sheep follow and live upon
them. Or, in default of other sheep, hogs or cattle are
turned in in dry weather, and they leave not a morsel.
136. Nor are the greens to be forgotten. In Eng
land, they are generally eaten by the sheep, when they
are turned in upon them. When the roots are taken up
for uses at the home-stead, the greens are given to store-
pigs and lean cattle. I cut mine off, while die roots
were in the ground, and gave them to fatting cattle upon
grass land, alternately with Indian corn in the ear ; and
in this way, they are easily and most profitably applied,
and they come too, just after the grass is gone from the
pastures. An acre produces about four good wagon
loads of greens ; and they are taken off fresh and fresh
as they are wanted, and, at the same time, the roots ara
thus made ready for going at once, into the heaps. Pigs,
sheep, cattle • all like the greens as well as they do the
roots. Try any of them with the greens of white turnips ;
and, if they touch them, they will have changed their
natures, or, at least, their tastes.
137. The Mangel Wurzel, the cabbage, the carroi,
and the parsnip, are all useful, and the latter, that is to
say, the parsnip, very valuable indeed ; but the main
cattle-crop is the Ruta Baga. Even the white turnip,
if well cultivated, may be of great use ; and as it ad
mits of being sown later, it may often be very desirable
to raise it. But reserving myself to speak fully, ifi a
future Part of my work, of my experiments as to these
crops, I shall now make a short enquiry as to the value
of a crop of Ruta Baga, compared with the value of any
other crop. I will just observe, in this place, however,
that I have grown Jiner carrots, parsnips, and Mangle
Wurzel, and even finer cabbages, than I ever grew upon
the richest land in Hampshire, though not a seed of any
of them was put into the ground till the month of June.
158. A good mode, it appears to me, of making my
proposed comparative estimate, will be to say, how I
would proceed, supposing me to have- a farm of my own
in this island, of only one hundred acres. If there were
not twelve acres of orchard near the house, I would throw
104 RUTA BAGA CULTURE. [Parti.
as much grass land to the orchard as would make up the
twelve acres, which I could fence in an effectual man
ner against small pigs as well as large oxen.
139. Having done this, I would take care to have fif
teen acres of good Indian corn, well planted, wellsuck-
ered, and well tilled in all respects. Good, deep plough
ing between the plants would give me forty bushels of
shelled corn to an acre ; and a ton to the acre of fodder
for my four working oxen and three cows, and my sheep
and hogs, of which I shall speak presently.
140. I would have twelve acres of RutaBaga, three
acres of early cabbages, an acre of Mangel Wurzel, an
acre of carrots and parsnips, and as many white turnips
as would grow between my rows of Indian corn after
my last ploughing of that crop.
141. With these crops, which would occupy thirty-two
acres of ground, I should not fear being able to keep a
good house in all sorts of meat, together with butter and
milk, and to send to market nine quarters of beef and
three hides, a hundred early fat lambs, a hundred hogs,
weighing twelve score, as we call it in Hampshire, or,
two hundred and forty pounds each, and a hundred fat
ewes. These altogether, would amount to about three
thousand dollars, exclusive of the cost of a hundred ewes
and of three oxen ; 1 should hope, that the produce of
my trees in the orchard and of the other fifty-six acres of
my farm would pay the rent and the labour ; for as to taxes ,
the amount is not worth naming, especially after the sub
lime spectacle of that sort, which the world beholds in
England.
142. I am, you will perceive, not making any account
of the price of Ruta Baga, cabbages, carrots, parsnips,
and white turnips at New York, or any other market. I
now, indeed, sell carrots and parsnips at three quarters of a
dollar the hundred, by tale ; cabbages (of last fall) at
about three dollars a hundred, and white turnips at a quar
ter of a dollar a bushel. When this can be done, and the
distance is within twenty or thirty miles on the best road
in the world, it will, of course, be done ; but my calcu
lations are built upon a supposed consumption of the
whole upon the farm by animals of one sort or another.
Chap. II. J RUTA BAGA CULTURE. 105
143. My feeding would be nearly as follows. I will
begin with February ; for until then, the Ruta Baga
does not come to its sweetest taste. It is like an apple,
that must have time to ripen ; but, then, it retains its
goodness much longer. I have proved, and especially in
the feeding of hogs, that the Ruta Baga is never so good
till it arrives at a mature state. In February, and about
the first of that month, I should begin bringing in my
Ruta Baga, in the manner before described. My three
oxen, which would have been brought forward by other
food, to be spoken of by and by, would be tied up in
a stall looking into one of those fine commodious barn's
floors which we have upon this island. Their stall
should be warm, and they should be kept well littered,
and cleaned out frequently. The Ruta Baga just chop
ped into large pieces with a spade or shovel, and tossed
into the manger to the oxen at the rate of about two
bushels a day to each ox, would make them completely
fat, without the aid of corn, hay, or any other thing. I
should, probably, kill one ox at Christmas, and, in that
case, he must have had a longer time than the others
upon other food. If I killed one of the two remaining
oxen in the middle of March, and the other on the first of
May, they would consume 268 bushels of Ruta Baga.
144. My hundred ewes would begin upon Ruta
Baga at the same time, and, as my grass ground would
be only twelve acres until after hay-time, I shall sup
pose them to be fed on this root till July, and they will
always eat it and thrive on it. They will eat about eight
pounds each, a day ; so that, for 150 days it would re
quire a hundred and twenty thousand pounds weight, or
two thousand four hundred bushels.
145. Fourteen breeding sows to be kept all the year
round, would bring a hundred pigs in the spring, and
they and their pigs would, during the same 150 days,
consume much about the same quantity ; for though the
pigs would be small during these 150 days, yet they eat
a great deal more than sheep in proportion to their size,
or rather bulk. However, as they would eat very little
during the first 60 days of their age, I have rather over
rated their consumption.
E 5
!06 RUTA BAGA CULTURE. [Part L
146. Three cows and four working oxen would, dur
ing the 150 days, consume about one thousand bushels,
which, indeed, would be more than sufficient, because,
during a great part of the time, they would more than
half live upon corn-stalks ; and, indeed, this, to a cer
tain extent, would be the case with the sheep. How
ever, as I mean that every thing should be of a good
size, and live well, I make ample provision.
1 47. I should want, then, to raise Jive hundred bush
els of Ruta Baga upon each of my twelve acres ; and
why should I not do it, seeing that I have this year rais
ed six hundred and forty bushels upon an acre, under
circumstances such as I have stated them ? I lay it down,
therefore, that, with a culture as good as that of Indian
corn, any man may, on this island (where corn will
grow) have 500 bushels to the acre.
148. ] am now come to the first of July. My oxen
are fatted and disposed of. My. lambs are gone to mar
ket, the last of them a month ago. My pigs are weaned
and of a good size. And now my Ruta Baga is gone.
But my ewes, kept well through the winter, will soon
be fat upon the 12 acres of orchard and the hay-ground,
aided by my three acres of early cabbages, which are now
fit to begin cutting, or, rather, pulling up. The weight
of this crop may be made very great indeed. Ten thou
sand plants will stand upon an acre, in four feet ridges,
and every plant ought to weigh three pounds at least.
I have shewn before how advantageously Ruta Baga
transplanted would follow these cabbages, all through
the months of July and August. But what a crop of
.Buck-wheat would follow such of the cabbages as came
off in July ! My cabbages, together with my hay-fields
and grain-fields after harvest, and about forty or fifty
wagon loads of Ruta Baga greens would carry me along
well till December (the cabbages being planted at diffe
rent times ;) for my ewes would be sold fat in July, and
my pigs would be only increasing in demand for food ;
and the new hundred ewes need not, and ought not, Jo
be kept so well as if they were fatting, or had lambs by
their side.
From the first of December to the first of Fe-
Chap. II.] RUTA BAGA CULTURE. 107
bruary, Mangle Wurzel and white turnips would keep
the sheep and cattle and breeding sows plentifully; for
the latter will live well upon Mangle Wurzel ; and my
hundred hogs, intended for fatting, would be much more
than half fat upon the carrots and parsnips. I should
however, more probably keep my parsnips till Spring,
and mix the feeding with carrots with the feeding with
corn, for the first month or fifteen days, with regard to
the fatting hogs. None of these hogs would require
more than three bushels of coYn each to finish them com
pletely. My other three hundred bushels would be for
sows giving suck ; the ewes, now and then in wet -wea
ther ; and for other occasional purposes.
150. Thus all my hay and oats, and wheat and rye
might be sold, leaving me the straw for litter. These,
surely, would pay the rent and the labour ; and, if I am
told, that I have taken no account of the mutton, and
lamb, and pork, that my house would demand, neither
have I taken any account of a hundred summer pigs,
which the fourteen sows would have and which would
hardly fail to bring two hundred dollars. Poultry de
mands some food ; but three parts of their raising con
sists of care ; and, if I had nobody in my house to be
stow this care, I should, of comse, have the less num
ber of mouths to feed.
151. But, my horses ! Will not they swallow my hay
and my oats ? No : for 1 want no horses. But, am 1
never to take a ride then ? Aye, but if I do, I have no
right to lay the expense of it to the account of the farm.
I am speaking of how a man may live by and upon a farm.
If a merchant: spends a thbusand a year, and gains a thou
sand, does he say, that his traffic has gained him nothing .'
When men lose money by farming, as they call it, they
forget, that it is not the farming, but other expenses
that take away their money. It is in fact, they that rob
the farm, and not the farm them. Horses may be kept
for the purposes of going to church, or to meeting, or
to pay visits. In many cases this may be not only
convenient, but necessary, to a family ; but, upon this
Island, I am very sure, that it is neither convenient nor
necessary to a farm. " What!" the ladies will say,
108 RUTA BAGA CULTURE. [Part I.
" would you have us to be shut up at home ali our Jives ;
or to be dragged about by oxen ?" By no means ; not
I ! 1 should be very sorry to be thought the author of
any such advice. I have no sort of objection to the keep
ing of horses upon a farm ; but I do insist upon it, that
all the food and manual labour required by such horses
ought to be considered as so much taken from the clear
profits of the farm.
152. I have made sheep, and particularly lambs, a
part of my supposed stock ; but I do not know, that I
should keep any beyond what might be useful for my
house. Hogs are the most profitable stock, if you have
a large quantity of the food that they will thrive on.
They we foul feeders ; but, they will eat nothing that is
poor in its nature ; that is to say, they will not thrive
on it. They are the most able tasters in all the creation ;
and, that which they like best, you may be quite sure
has the greatest proportion of nutritious matter in it,
from a white turnip to a piece of beef. They will pre
fer meat to corn, and cooked meat to raw; they will
leave parsnips for com or grain ; they will leave carrots
for parsnips ; they will leave Ruta Baga for carrots ;
they will leave cabbages for Ruta Baga ; they will leave
Mangle Wurzel for cabbages ; they will leave potatoes
(both being raw) for Mangle Wurzel. A white turnip
they will not touch, unless they be on the point of starv
ing. They are the best of triers. Whatever they prefer
is sure to be the richest thing within their reach. The
parsnip is, by many degrees, the richest root ; but, the
seed lies long in the ground ; the sowing and aftercul
ture are works of great niceness. The crop is large with
good cultivation, but, as a main crop, 1 prefer the Ruta
Baga, of which the crop is immense, and the harvesting
and preserving, and application of which, are so easy.
153. The farm I suppose to be in fair condition to
start with ; the usual grass seeds sown, and so forth ;
and every farmer will see, that, under my system, it
must soon become rich as any garden need to be, with
out my sending men and horses to the water side to
fetch ashes, which have been brought from Boston or
Charlestown, an average distance of seven hundred
Chap. II.] RUTA BAGA CULTURE. 109
miles ! In short, my stock would give me, in one shape
or another, manure to the amount, in utility, of more
than a thousand tons weight a year of common yard ma
nure. This would be ten tons to an acre every year.
The farm would, in this way, become more and mpre
productive ; and, as to its being too rich, I see no dan
ger of that ; for a broad-cast crop of wheat will, at any
time, tame it pretty sufficiently.
154. Very much, in my opinion, do those mistake
the matter, who strive to get a great breadth of land,
with the idea, that, when they have tried one field, they
can let it lie, and go to another. It is better to have one
acre of good crop, than two of bad or indifferent. If the
one acre can by double the manure and double the la
bour in tillage, be made to produce as much as two other
acres, the one acre is preferable, because it requires
only half as much fencing, and little more than half as
much harvesting, as two acres. There is many a ten
acres of land near London, that produces more than
any common farm of two hundred acres. My garden of
three quarters of an acre, produced more in value, last
Summer, from June to December, than any ten acres,
of oat land upon Long Island,, though 1 there saw as
line fields of oats as I ever saw ia my life. A heavy
crop upon all the ground that I put a plough into is what
1 should seek, rather than to have a great quantity of
land.
155. The business of carting manure from a distance
can, in very few, if any cases, answer a profitable pur
pose. If any man would give me even horse-dung at the
stable-door, four miles from my land, I would not ac
cept of it, on condition of fetching it. I say the same of
spent ashes. To manure a field of ten acres, in this way,
a man and two horses must be employed twenty days
at least, with twenty days' wear and tear of wagon and
tackle. Two oxen and two men do the business in t-vo
days, if the manure be on the spot.
156. In concluding my remarks on the subject of
Ruta Baga, I have to apologize for the desultory man
ner in which I have treated the matter ; but, 1 have put
the thoughts down as they occurred to me, without
110 RUTA BAGA CULTURE. [Part 1.
much time for arrangement, wishing very much to get
this First Part into the hands of the public before the
arrival of the time for sowing Ruta Baga this present
year. In the succeeding Parts of the work, I propose to
treat of the culture of every other plant that I iiave found
to be of use upon a farm ; and also to speak fully of the
sorts of cattle, eheep and hogs, particularly the latter.
My experiments are now going on ; and, I shall only
have to communicate the result, which T shall do very,
faithfully, and with as much clearness as I am able. In
the mean while, 1 shall be glad to afford any opportu
nity, to any persons who may think it worth while to
come to Hyde Park, of seeing how I proceed. I have
just now (l?th April) planted out my Ruta Baga, Cab
bages, Mangle Wurzel, Onions, Parsnips, &c. for seed,
I shall begin my earth-burning in about fifteen days.
In short, being convinced, that 1 am able to communi
cate very valuable improvements ; and not knowing how
short or how long, my stay in America may be, 1 wish
very much to leave behind me whatever of good I am
able, in return for the protection which America has
afforded me against the fangs of the Boroughmongers
of England ; to which country, however, I always bear
affection, which I cannot feel towards any other in the
same degree, and the prosperity and honour of which I
shall, I hope, never cease to prefer before the gratifica
tion of all private pleasures and emoluments.
END
Of the .Treatise on Ruta Baga,
AND OF PART I.
A
YEAR'S RESIDENCE,
IN THE
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.
PART II.
Containing, — III. Experiments as to Cabbages. — IV. Earth-burning.
— V. Transplanting Indian Corn. — VI. Swedish Turnips. — VII.
Potatoes.— VIII. Cows, Sheep, Hogs, and Poultry. — IX. Prices of
Land, Labour, Working Cattle, Husbandry Implements.- — X. Ex
penses of Housekeeping. — XI. Manners, Customs, and Character
of the People. — XII. Rural Sports. — X1I1. Paupers and Beggars.—-
XIV. Government, Laws and Relic-ion.
DEDICATION
TO
MR. RICHARD HINXMAN,
OF CHILLING IN HAMPSHIRE.
North ffempstead, Long Island,
15th Nov. 1818.
MY DEAR SIR,
THE following little -volume will give you
some account of my agricultural proceedings
in this fine and well-governed country ; and,
it will also enable you to see clearly how fa
vourable an absence of grinding taxation and
tithes is to the farmer. You have already paid
to Fund-holders, Standing Armies, and Priests,
more money than would make a decent for
tune for two children; and if the present sys
tem were to continue to the end of your natu
ral life, you would pay more to support the idle
and the worthless, than would maintain, during
the same space of time, ten labourers and
their families. The profits of your capital, care
and skill, are pawned by the Boroughmongers
to pay the interest of a Debt, which they have
contracted for their own purposes ; a Debt,
which never can, by ag*es of toil and of suffer
ings, on the part of the people, be either paid
off or diminished. But, 1 trust that deliverance
from this worse than Egyptian bondage is now
near at hand. The atrocious tyranny does but
stagger along. At every step it discovers fresh
114 DEDICATION.
proofs of impotence. It must corne down;
and when it is down, we shall not have to envy
the farmers of America, or of any country in
the world.
When you reflect on the blackguard conduct
of the Parsons at Winchester, on the day when
I last had the pleasure to see you and our excel
lent friend GOLDSMITH, you will rejoice to find,
that, throughout the whole of this extensive
country there exists not one single animal of
that description; so that we can here keep as
many cows, sows, ewes and hens as we please,
with the certainty, that nro prying, greedy Parson
will come to eat up n part of the young ones.
How long shall we Englishmen suffer our cow-
stalls, our styes, our folds and our hen-roosts to
be the prey of this prowling pest?
In many parts of the following pages you
will trace the remarks and opinions back to
conversations that have passed between us,
many times in Hampshire. In the making of
them my mind has been brought back to the
feeling of those days. The certainty, that I
shall always be beloved by you constitutes one
of the greatest pleasures of my life; and I am
sure that you want nothing to convince you,
that I am unchangeably
Your faithful and affectionate friend,
WM. COBBETT.
PREFACE
TO Tilt;
SECOND PART,
157. IN the First Part I adopted the mode
of numbering fke paragraphs, a mode which I
shall pursue to the end of the work ; and, as
the whole work may at the choice of the pur
chaser, be bound up in one volume, or remain
in two volumes, I have thought it best to re
sume the numbering at the point where I
stopped at the close of the First Part. The
last paragraph of that Part was 156: I,
therefore, now begin with 157. For the same
reason I have, in the Second Part, resumed
the paging at the point where I stopped in the
First Part. 1 have in like manner, resumed
the chaptering : so that, when thfe two Parts
are put together, they will, as to these mat
ters, form but one ; and those, who may have
purchased the volumes separately, will pos
sess the same book, in all respects, as those,
lift PREFACE TO THE SECOND PART,
who shall purchase the Three Parts in one
Volrnne.
158. Paragraph 1. (Part 1.) contains my
reasons for numbering the paragraphs, but,,
besides the reasons there stated, there is one.
which did not then occur to me, and which
was left to be suggested by experience, of a
description which I did not then anticipate ;
namely, that, in the case of more than one edi
tion, the paging may, and generally does dif
fer in such manner as to brin<£ the matter.
O
which, in one edition, is under any given page,
under a different page in another edition.
This renders the work of reference very la
borious at best, and, in many cases, it defeats
its object. If the paragraphs of BLACKSTONE'S
COMMENTARIES had been numbered, how much
valuable time it would have saved ! I hope,
that these reasons will be sufficient to con
vince the reader that I have not, in this case,
been actuated by a love of singularity. We live
to learn, and to make improvements, and
every improvement must, at first, be a singu
larity.
159. The utility, which I thought would
arise from the hastening out of the First Part,
in June last, previous to the time for sowing
Swedish Turnips, induced me to make an ugly
breach in the order of my little work ; and,
as it generally happens, that when disorder is
once begun, it is very difficult to restore order ;
so, in this case, I have been exceedingly-
puzzled to give to the matter of these two last
Parts such an arrangement as should be wor
thy of a work, which, whatever may be the
PREFACE TO THE SECOND PAJIT. 117
character of its execution, treats of subjects
of great public interest. However, with the
help of the Index, which I shall subjoin to the
Third Part, and which will comprise a refer
ence to the divers matter si nail the three parts,
and in the making of which Index an addi
tional proof of the advantage of numbering
the paragraphs has appeared ; with the help
of this Index the reader will, I am in hopes,
be enabled to overcome, without any very
great trouble, the inconveniences naturally
arising from the want of a perfectly good
arrangement of the subjects of the work.
160. As the First Part closes with a pro
mise to communicate the result of my experi
ments of this present year, I begin the Second
Part with a fulfilment of that promise, parti
cularly with regard to the procuring of 'manure
by the burning of earth into ashes.
161. I then proceed with the other matters
named in the title ; and the Third Part I shall
make to consist of an account of the Western
Countries, furnished in the Notes of Mr.
HULME, together with a view of the advantages
and disadvantages of preferring, as a place
to farm in, those Countries to the Countries
bordering on the Atlantic ; in which view
I shall include such remarks as appear
to me likely to be useful to those English
Farmers, who can no longer bear the lash
of Boroughmongering oppression and inso
lence.
162. Multifariousness is a great fault in a
written work of any kind. I feel the con
sciousness of this fault upon this occasion.
118 PREFACE TO THE SECOND PART.
The facts and opinions relative to Swedish
Turnips and Cabbages will be very apt to be
enfeebled in their effect by those relating to
manners, laws and religion. Matters so hete
rogeneous, the one class treated of in the de
tail and the other in the great, ought not to be
squeezed together between the boards of the
same small volume. But, the fault is commit
ted and it is too late to repine. There are,
however, two subjects which I will treat of
distinctly hereafter. The first is that of Fenc
ing, a subject which presses itself upon the at
tention of the American Farmer, but from
which he turns with feelings like those, with
which a losing tradesman turns from an exa
mination of his books. But, attend to it he
must before it be long ; or, his fields, in the
populous parts of this Island at least must lay
waste, and his fuel must be brought him from
Virginia or from England. Sometime before
March next I shall publish an Essay on Fenc
ing. The form shall correspond with that of
this work, in order that it may be bound up
with it, if that should be thought desirable. The
other subject is that of Gardening. This I
propose to treat of in a small distinct volume,
under some appropriate title ; and, in this
volume, to give alphabetically, a description
of all the plants, cultivated for the use of the
table and also of those cultivated as cattle
food. To this description I shall add an ac
count of their properties, and instructions for
the cultivation of them in the best manner. It
is not my intention to go beyond what is aptly
enough called the Kitchen Garden; but, as
PREFACE TO THE SECOND PART. liy
a hot-bed may be of such great use even to the
farmer ; and as ample materials for making
beds of this sort are always at his command
without any expense, I shall endeavour to give
plain directions for the making and managing
of a hot-bed. A bed of this sort, fifteen feet long,
has given rne this year, the better part of an
acre of fine cabbages to give to hogs in the
parching month of«/w/y. This is so very sim
ple a matter ; it is so very easy to learn ; that
there is scarcely a farmer in America, who
would not put the thing in practice, at once,
without complete success.
163. Let not my countrymen, who may hap
pen to read this suppose, that these, or any
other, pursuits will withdraw my attention from,
or slacken my zeal in, that cause, which is com
mon to us all. That cause claims, and has, my
first attention and best exertion ; that is the
business of my life ; these other pursuits are
my recreation. King ALFRED allowed eight
hours for recreation, in the twenty-four, eight
for sleep, and eight for business. I do not take
my allowance of the two former.
164. Upon looking into the First Part, I
see, that I expressed a hope to be able to
give, in some part of this work, a sketch of the
work of Mr. TULL. I have looked at TULL,
and I cannot bring my mind up to the commis
sion of so horrid an act as that of garbling
such a work. It was, perhaps, a feeling, such
as that which I experience at this moment,
which restrained Mr. CURWEN from even nam
ing TULL, when he gave one of TULL'S experi
ments to the world as a discovery of his own !
120 PREFACE TO THE SECOND PART.
Unable to screw himselfup to commit a murder,
he contented himself with a robbery ; an in
stance,, he may, indeed, say, of singular mo
deration and self-denial ; especially when we
consider of what an assembly he has, with little
intermission, been an "Honourable Member"
for the last thirty vears of his life.
WM. COBBETT.
North Hempstead, Long Island,
15M November, 1818.
A
YEAR'S RESIDENCE,
CHAP. III.
EXPERIMENTS, IN 1818, AS TO CABBAGES.
Preliminary Remarks.
165. AT the time when i was writing the First Part,
I expected to be able to devote more time to my farm
ing, during the summer, than I afterwards found that
1 could so devote without neglecting matters which I
deem of greater importance. I was, indeed, obliged
to leave the greater part of my out-door's business
wholly to rny men, merely telling them what to do.
However 1 attended to the things which J thought to
be of the most importance. The field-culture of Car
rots, Parsnips and Mangle Wurzel I did not attempt.
I contented myself with a crop of Cabbages and of
Huta Baga, and with experiments as to Earth-burning
and Transplanting Indian Corn. The summer, and
the fall also, have been remarkably dry in Long Island,
much more dry than is usual. The grass has been
very short indeed. A sort of grass-hopper, or cncket,
has eaten up a considerable part of the grass and of
all vegetables, the leaves of which have come since the
month of June. I am glad, that this has been the
case ; for I now know what a farmer may do in the
worst of years ; and, when I consider what the summer
lias been, 1 look at my Cabbages and Rnta Baga with
surprise as well as with satisfaction.
F
[ 122 ] [Part 11.
CABBAGES.
166. 1 had some hogs to keep, and as my Swedish
Turnips (Ruta Baga) would be gone by July, or be
fore, 1 wished them to be succeeded by Cabbages. I
made a hot-bed on the 20th of March, \vhichoughtto
have been made more than a month earlier ; but, t
had been in Pennsylvania, and did not return home till
the 13th of' March. It requires a little time to mix
and turn the dung in order to prepare it for a hot-bed ;
30 that mine was not a very good one ; and then my
frame was hastily patched up, and its covering consist
ed of some old broken sashes of windows. A very shabby
concern ; but, in this bed 1 sowed cabbages and cauli
flowers. The seed came up, and the plants, though stand
ing too thick, grew pretty well. From this bed, they
would, if I had had time, have been transplanted into ano
ther, at about two and a half or three inches apart. But,
such as they were, very much drawn up, I began planting
them out as soon as they were about four inches high.
167. It was the \c2th of Mat/ before they attained
this height, and 1 then began planting them out in a
piece of ground, pretty good, and deeply ploughed by
oxen. My -cauliflowers, of which there were about
three thousand, were too late to flower, which they
never will do, unless the flower have begun to shew it
self before the great heat comes. However these plants
grew very large, and afforded a great quantity of food
for pigs. The outside leaves and stems were eaten by
sows, store-pigs, a cow, and some oxen ; the hearts,
which were very tender and nearly of the Cauliflower-
taste, were boiled in a large cast-iron caldron, and, mix
ed with a little rye-meal, given to sows and young pigs.
I should suppose, that these three thousand plants
weighed twelve hundred pounds, and they stood upon
about half an acre of land. I gave these to the auimals
early in July*
168. The Cabbages, sown in the bed, consisted partly
of Early Yorks, the seed of which had been sent me
along with the Cauliflower seed, from England, arid
had reached me at Harrisburgh in Pennsylvania ; and
Chap. III.] CABBAGES. 123
partly of plants, the seeds of which had been given me
by Mr. JAMES PAUL, Senior, of Bustleton, as I was
on my return home. And this gave me a pretty good
opportunity of ascertaining the fact as to the degene
rating of cabbage seed. Mr. Paul, who attended very
minutely to all such matters ; who took great delight
in his garden ; who was a reading as well as a practi
cal farmer, told me, when he gave me the seed, that
it would not produce loaved cabbages so early as my
own seed would ; for, that though he had always select
ed the earliest heads for seed, the seed degenerated, and
the cabbages regularly came to perfection later and
later. He said, that he never should save cabbage seed
himself; but, that it was such chance-work to buy of
Seedsmen* that he thought it best to save some at any
rate. In this case, all the plants from the English seed
produced solid loaves by the 24th of June, while from
the plants of the Pennsylvania seed, we had not a single
solid loaf till the 28th of July, and, from the ohief
part of them, not till mid-August.
161). This is a great matter. Not only have you the
food earlier, and so much earlier, from the genuine seed,
but your ground is occupied so much less time by the
plants. The plants very soon showed, by their appear
ance, what would be the result ; for, on the 2nd of June,
Miss Sarah Paul, a daughter of Mr. James Paul, saw
the plants, and while those from the English seed were
even then beginning to loave, those from her father's
seed were nothing more than bunches of wide spread
ing leaves, having no appearance of forming a head.
However, they succeeded the plants from the English
seed ; and, the whole, besides what were use-d in the
House, were given to the animals. As many of the
white loaves as were wanted for the purpose were boiled
for sows and small pigs, and the rest were given to
lean pigs, and the horn-cattle : and a tine resource they
were ; for, so dry was the weather, and the devastations
of the grass-hoppers so great, that we had scarcely any
grass in any part of the land ; and, if 1 had not had
these cabbages, I must have resorted to Indian Corn,
or Grain of some sort.
F 2
124 CABBAGES. [Part If.
170. But, these spring-cabbage plants were to be
succeeded by others, to be eaten in September and on
wards to January. Therefore, on the 27th of May, 1
sowed in the natural ground eleven sorts of cabbages,
some of the seed from England and some got from my
friend, Mr. PAUL. I have noticed the extreme drought
of the season. Nevertheless, I have now about two
acres of cabbages of the following description. Half an
acre of the Early Salisbury (earliest of all cabbages)
and Early York ; about 3 quarters of an acre of the
Drum-head and other late cabbages ; and about the same
quantity of Green Savoys. The first class are fully
loaved, and bursting: with these J now feed my animals.
These will be finished by the time that I cut off my
Swedish Turnip Greens, as mentioned in Part I. Para
graph 13fi. Then, about mid-December, I shall feed with
the second class, the Drum-heads and other late cabbages.
Then, those which are not used before the hard frosts set
• in, I shall put up for use through the month of January.
171. Aye! Pat them up; but how? No scheme
that industry or necessity ever sought after, or that expe
rience ever suggested, with regard to the preserving of
cabbages, did 1 leave untried last year ; and, in every
scheme but one 1 found some inconvenience. Taking
them up and replanting them closely in a sloping man
ner and covering them with straw; putting them in pits;
hanging them up in a barn ; turning their heads down-
wards and covering them with earth, leaving the roots
sticking up in the air : in short every scheme, except
one, was attended with great labour, and some of them
forbade the hope of being able to preserve any consi
derable quantity ; and this one was as follows : I made
a sort of land with the plough, and made it pretty level
at top. Upon this land I laid some straw. I then took
the cabbages, turned them upside down, and placed
them (first taking off all decayed leaves) about six
abreast upon the straw. Then covered them, not very
thickly, with leaves raked up in the woods, flinging now
and then a little dirt (boughs of any sort would be better)
to prevent the leaves from being carried off by the wind.
So that, when the work was done, the thing was a bed
Chap. III.] CABBAGES. 125
of leaves with cabbage-roots sticking up through it. 1
only put on enough leaves to hide all the green. If the
frost came and prevented the taking up of the cabbages,
roots and all, they might becutotrV/os<?£o the ground. The
root, I dare say, is of no use in the preservation. In the
months of April and May, I took cabbages of all sorts
from this Ian d perfectly good and fresh. The quantity,
preserved thus, was small. Lt might amount to ^JOO cab
bages, lint, it was quite sufficient for the purpose. Not
only did the cabbages keep belter in this, than many other
way, but there they were, at all times, ready. The frost
had locked up all those which were covered with earth,
and those which lay with heads upwards and their roots
in the ground were rotting. But, to this land I could have
gone at any time, and have brought away, if the quantity
had been large, a wagon load in ten minutes. If they
had been covered wit I) snow (no matter how deep) by un-
coveFing twenty feet in length (a work of little labour)
half a ton of cabbages would have been got at. This
year, thinking that my Savoys, which are, at once, the
best in quality and best to keep, of all winter cab
bages, may be of use to send to New York, I have plant
ed them between rows of Broom-Corn. Tbe Broom-
Corn is in rows, eight feet apart. This enabled us to
plough deep between the Broom-Corn, which, though
in poor land, has been very fine. The heads are cut oft ;
and now the stalks remain to be used as follows : I shall
make lands up the piece, cut off the stalks and lay them,
first a layer longways and then a layer cross ways, upon
the lands. Upon these I shall put my Savoys turned up
side down; and, as the stalks will be more than suffi
cient for this purpose, L shall lay some of them over,
instead of dirt or boughs, as mentioned before. Per
haps the leaves of the Broom-Corn, which are lying
about in great quanities, may suffice for covering. And,
thus, all the materials for the work are upon the spot*
17-. In quitting this matter, I may observe, that, to
cover cabbages thus, in gardens as well as fields, would,
in many cases, be of great use in England, and of still
more use in Scotland. Sometimes, a quick succession
of frost, snow and thaw will completely rot every loaved
12o CABBAGES. [Part II.
cabbage even in the South of England. Indeed no re
liance is placed upon cabbages for use, as cattle-food,
later than the month of December. The bulk is so large
that a protection by houses of any sort cannot be thought
of. Besides, the cabbages, put together in large masses
would heat and quickly rot. In gentlemen's gardens,
indeed, cabbages are put into houses, where they are
hung up by the heads. But, they wither in this state, or
they soon putrefy even here. By adopting the mode
of preserving, which I have described above, all these
inconveniences would be avoided. Any quantity might
be preserved either in fields or in gardens at a very trifling
expense, compared with the bulk of the crop.
173. As to the application of my Savoys, and part of
the Drum-heads, too, indeed, if i find cabbages very dear,
at New York, in winter, I shall send them ; if not, there
they are for my cattle and pigs. The weight of them will
not be less, i should think, that ten tons. The plants were
put out by two men in one day ; and I shall think it very
hard if two men do not put the whole completely up in a
week. The Savoys are very fine. A little too late planted
out ; but still very fine ; and they were planted out under
a burning sun and without a drop of rain for weeks after
wards. So far from taking any particular pains about
these Savoys, 1 did not see them planted, and I never
saw them for more than two months after they were plant
ed. The grrmnd for them was prepared thus : the ground
in each interval, between the Broom-Corn, had been,
some little time before, ploughed to the rows. This left a
deep furrow in the middle of the interval. Into this fur
row I put the manure. It was a mixture of good mould
and dung from pigstyes. The wragon went up the interval
and the manure was drawn out and tumbled into the fur
row. Then the plough went twice on each side of the
furrow, and turned the earth over the manure. This made
a ridge., and upon this ridge the plants were planted as
quickly after the plough as possible.
174. Nbw, then, what is the trouble; what is the
expense, of all this ? The seed was excellent. 1 do not
recollect ever having seen so large a piece of the cab
bage kirad with so. few spurious plants. But, though
€hap, III.] CABBAGES. 127
good cabbage seed is of high -price, I should suppose,
that the seed aid not cost me a quarter of a dollar.
Suppose, however, it had cost ten quarters of a dollar ;
what would that have been, compared to the worth of
the crop ? For, what is the worth of ten tons of green
or moist food, in the month of March or April!
175. The Swedish Turnip is, indeed, still more con
veniently preserved, and is a richer food ; but, there are
some reasons for making part of the year's provision to
consist of cabbages. As far as a thing may depend on
chance, two chances are better than one. In the summer
and fall, cabbages gel ripe, and, as I have observed, in
Parti. Paragraph 143, the .Ruta Baga (which we call
Swedish Turnip for the future) is not so good 'till it be
ripe ; and is a great deal better when kept 'till February,
than when used in December, This matter of ripeness is
worthy of attention. Let any one eat a piece of white cab
bage; and then eat a piece of the same sort of cabbage
young and green. The first he will find sweet, the latter
bitter. It is the same with Turnips, and with all roots.
There are some apples, wholly uneatable till kept a while,
and then delicious. This is the case with the Swedish Tur
nip. Hogs will, indeed, always eat it, young or old ; but
it is not nearly so good early, as*it is when kept 'till Fe
bruary. However, in default of other things, I would
feed with it even in November !
176. For these reasons I would have my due proportion
of cabbages, and I would always, if possible, have some
Green Savoys; for it is, with cabbages, too, not only quan
tity which we ought to think of. The Drum-head, and
.some others, are called cattle-cabbage ; and hence, in
England, there is an idea, that, the more delicate kinds
of cabbage ai enot so good for cattle. But, the fact is,
that they are as much better for cattle, than the coarse
cabbages are, as they are better for us. It would be
strange indeed, that reversing the principle of our gene
ral conduct, we should give cabbage of the best quality
to cattle, and keep that of the worst quality for ourselves.
In L ondon, where taxation has kept the streets as clear of
bits of meat left on bones as the hogs endeavour to keep
the streets of New York, there are people who go about
128 CABBAGES. [Pait IL
selling " dog's meat." This consists of boiled garbage.
But, it is not pretended, I suppose, that dogs will not eat
roast-beef; nor, is it, 1 suppose, imagined, that they
would not prefer the roast-beef, if they had their choice ?
Some people pretend that garbage and carrion are bet
ter for dogs than beef and mutton are. That is to say, it
is better for us that they should live upon things, which
we ourselves loath than that they should share with us.
Self-interest, is but too frequently, a miserable logician.
177. However, with regard to cattle, sheep, and pigs,
as we intend to eat them, their claim to our kindness is ge
nerally more particularly and impartially listened to than
that of the poor dogs ; though that of the latter, founded,
as it is, on their sagacity, their fidelity, their real utility, as
the guardians of our folds, our home-steads and our
houses, and as the companions, or, rather, the givers, of
our healthful sports, is ten thousand times more strong,
than that of animals which live to eat, sleep, and grow fat.
But, to return to the cabbages, the fact is, that all sorts
of animals, which will eat them at all, like the most deli
cate kind s best ; and, as some of these are also the ear
liest kinds, they ought to be cultivated for cattle. Some
of the larger kinds may be cultivated too ; but, they can
not be got ripe till the tall of the year. Nor is the differ
ence in the weight of the crop so great as may be imagi
ned. On the same land, that will bear a Drum-head of
twenty pounds, an Early York, or Early Battersea \vill
weigh jour pounds ; and these may be jijteen inches
asunder in the row, while the Drum-head requires four
feet. Mind, I always suppose the rows to be four feet
apart, as stated in the First Part of this work, and for the
reasons there stated. Besides the advantages of having
some cabbages early, the early ones remain so little a time
upon the ground. Transplanted Swedish Turnips or
Buckwheat, or late Cabbages, especially Savoys, may
always follow them the same year upon the same land.
My early cabbages this year, have been followed by a se
cond crop of thesame, and now (mid-November) they are
hard and white and we are giving them to the animals.
178. There is a convenience attending cabbages,
which attends no other of the cattle-plants, namely, that
Chap. III.] CABBAGES. 12<)
of raising the plants with very little trouble and upon a
small bit of ground. A lit tit bed will give plants for an
acre or two. The expense of seed, even of the dearest
kinds, is a mere trifle, not worth any man's notice.
1 79. For these reasons I adhere to cabbages as the
companion crop of Swedish Turnips. The Mangel
VVurzcl is long in the ground. In seasons of great
drought, it comes up unevenly. The weeds get the start
of it. Its tillage must begin before it hardly shows
itself. It is of the nature of the Beet, and it requires the
care which the Beet requires. The same may be said of
Carrots and Parsnips. The cabbage, until it be fit to
plant out, occupies hardly any ground. An hour's work
cleans the bed of weeds ; and there the plants are always
ready, when the land is made ready. The Mangle Wur-
/el root, if quite ripe, is richer than awhile loaved cab
bage; but, it is not more easily preserved, ?nd will not
produce a larger crop. Cattle will eat the leaves but
hogs will not, when they can get the leaves of cabbages.
Nevertheless, some of this root may be cultivated. It
will fat an GJC well ; and it \\i\\fat sheep well. Hogs
will do well on it in winter. I would, if I were a settled
fanner, have some of it ; but, it is not a thing upon which
f. would place my dependence.
ISO. As to the time of sowing cabbages, the first
sowing should be in a hot-bed, so as to have the plants
a month old when the frost leaves tthe ground. The
second sowing should be when the natural ground has
become warm enough to make the weeds begin to come
up freely. But, seed-beds of cabbages, and, indeed, of
every thing, should be /// the open air: not under a fence,
whatever may be the aspect. The plants are sure to be
weak, if sown in such situations. They should have the
air coming freely to them in every direction. In a hot
bed, the seed should be sown in rows, three inches apart,
and the plants might be thinned out to one in a quarter
of an inch. This would give about ten thousand plants
in a bed ten feet long, and Jive wide. They will stand
thus to get to a tolerable size Without injuring each
other, if the bed be well managed as to heat and air.
In the open ground, where room is plenty, the rows
F 5
130 CABBAGES, [Part 11.
may be a foot apart, and the plants two inches apart in
the rows. This will allow of hoeing, and here the plants
will grow very finely. Mind, a large cabbage plant,
as well as a large turnip plant, is better than a
small one. All will grow, if well planted ; but the
large plant will grow best, and will, in the end, be the
finest cabbage.
181. We have a way, in England, of greatly improv
ing the plants ; but, I am almost afraid to mention it,
lest the American reader should be frightened at the
bare thought of the trouble. When the plants, in the
seed-bed, have got leaves about an inch broad, we take
them up, and transplant them in fresh ground, at about
four inches a part each way. Here they get stout and
straight ; and in about three \veeks time, we transplant
them again into the ground where they are to come to
perfection. This is called pricking out. When the plant
is removed the second time, it is found to be furnished
with new roots, which have shot out of the butts of
the long tap, or forked roots, which proceeded from the
seed. It, therefore, takes again more readily to the
ground, and has some earth adhere to in its passage. One
hundred of pricked-out plants are always looked upon
as worth three hundred from the seed-bed. In short, no
man, in England, unless he be extremely negligent, ever
plants out from the seed-bed. Let any farmer try this
method with only a score of plants. He may do it with
three minutes' labour. Surely, he may spare three
minutes, and I will engage, that, if he treat these plants
afterwards as he does the rest, and, if all be treated well
and the crop a fair one, the three minutes will give him
fifty pounds weight of any of the larger sorts of cabbages.
Plants are thus raised, then taken up and tied neatly in
bundles, and then brought out of Dorsetshire and Wilt
shire, and sold in Hampshire for three-pence (about six
cents} a hundred. So that it cannot require the heart of
a lion to encounter the labour attending the raising of a
few thousands of plants.
182. However, my plants, this year, have all gone
into the field from the seed-bed ; and, in so fine a cli
mate, it may do very well ; only great care is necessary
Chap. 11L] CABBAGES. 131
to be taken to see that they be not too thick in the seed
bed.
183. As to the preparation of the land, as to the ma
nuring, as to the distance of the rows from each other,
as to the act of planting, and as to the afterculture, all
are the same as in the case of transplanted Swedish Tur
nips ; and, therefore, as to these matters, the reader has
seen enough in Part [. There is one observation to
make, as to the depth to which the plant should be put
into the ground. It should be placed so deep, that the
stems of the outside leaves be just clear of the ground ;
for, if you put the plant deeper, the rain will wash the
loose earth in amongst the stems of the leaves, which will
make an open poor cabbage ; and, if the plant be placed
so low as for the heart to be covered with dirty the plant,
though it will live, will come to nothing. Great care
must, therefore, be taken as to this matter. If the stem
of the plant be long, roots will burst out nearly all the
way up to the surface of the earth.
184. The distances at which cabbages ought to stand
in the rows must depend on the sorts. The following is
nearly about the mark. Early Salisbury a foot : Early
\ orkjij'teen inches ; Early Battersea twenty inches ; Su
gar Loaf two feet ; Savoys two feet and a half; and
the Drum-head, Thousand-headed, Large Hollow, Ox-
cabbage, all four feet.
185. With regard to the time of sowing some more
ought to be said ; for, we are not here, as in England,
confined within four or five decrees of latitude. Here
v5
some of us are living in fine, warm weather, while others
of us are living amidst snows. It will be better, there
fore, in giving opinions about times, to speak of seasons
and not of months and days. The country people, in
England, go, to this day, many of them, at least, by the
•tides ; and, what is supremely ridiculous, they go, in
some cases, by the moveable tides. My gardener, at Bot-
ley, very reluctantly obeyed me, one year, in sowing
green Kale when I ordered him to do it, because Whit
suntide was not come, and that, he said, was the proper
season. " But," said I, " Robinson, Whitsuntide
comes later this year than it did lust year." "Later,
132 CABBAGES. [Part II.
Sir," said he, "how can that be?" " Because," said
I, " it depends upon the moon when Whitsuntide shall
come/' " The moon!" said he : u what sense can
there be in that?" " Nay," said I, " I am sure I
" cannot tell. That is a matter far beyond my learning.
" Go and ask Mr. BAKER, the Parson, he ought to be
" able to tell us; for he has a tenth part of our garden
" stuff and fruit." The Quakers here cast all this rub
bish away ; and, one wonders how it can possibly be
still cherished by any portion of an enlightened people.
But, the truth is, that men do not think for themselves
about these matters. Each succeeding generation tread
in the steps of their fathers, whom they loved, honoured
and obeyed. They take all upon trust. Gladly save them
selves the trouble of thinking about things of not imme
diate interest. A desire to avoid the reproach of being
irreligious induces them to practise an outward confor
mity. And thus has priest-craft with all its frauds, ex
tortions, and immoralities, lived and flourished in defi
ance of reason and of nature.
186. However, as there are no farmers in America
quite foolish enough to be ruled by the tides in sowing
and reaping, 1 hurry back from this digression to say,
that I cannot be expected to speak of precise times for
doing any work, except as, relates to the latitude in
which 1 live, and in which my experiments have been
made. I have cultivated a garden at Frederickton in the
Province of New Brunswick, which is in latitude about
forty-eight ; and at Wilmington in Delaware State,
which is in latitude about thirty -nine. In both these
places I had as fine cabbages, turnips, and garden things
of all the hardy sorts, as any man need wish to see. In
dian Corn grew and ripened well in fields at Frederick-
ton. And, of course, the summer was sufficient for the
perfecting of all plants for cattle-food. And how neces
sary is this food in Northern Climates ! More to the
Southward than Delaware State I have not been ; but,
in those countries the farmers have to pick and choose.
They have two Long Island summers and falls, and
tine;; English, in every year.
187. According to these various circumstances men
Chap, ill.] CABBAGES. 133
must form their judgment ; but, it may be of some use
to state the length, of time, which is required to bring
each sort of cabbage to perfection. The following sorts
are, it appears to me, all that can, in any case, be ne
cessary. I have put against each nearly the time, that
it will require to bring it to perfection, from the time
of planting out in the places where the plants arte to
stand to come to perfection. The plants are supposed
to be of a good size when put out, to have stood suffi
ciently thin in the seed-bed, and to have been kept clear
from weeds in that bed. They are also supposed to go
into ground well prepared.
Early Salisbury . . Six weeks.
Early York . . . Eight weeks.
Early Battersea . . Ten weeks.
Sugar Loaf . . . Eleven weeks.
Late Battersea . . Sixteen weeks.
Red Kentish . . . Sixteen weeks.
Drum-head . . \
Thousand-headed /
Large hollow . . V Five months.
Ox-cabbage. . . V
Savoy . /
188. Tt should be observed, that Savoys, which are
so very rich in winter, are n )t so good, till they have
been pinched by frost. I have put red cabbage down
as a sort to be cultivated, because they are as good as
the white of the same si/e, and because it may be con
venient, in the fanner's family, to have some of them.
The thousand-headed is of prodigious produce. You
pull off the heads, of which it bears a great number at
lirst, and others come ; and so on for months, if the
weather permit; so that this sort does not take five
months to bring its first heads to perfection. When I
say perfection, I mean quite hard ; quite ripe. How
ever, this* is a coarse cabbage, and requires great room.
The Ox-cabbage is coarser than the Drum-head. The
Large hollow is a very fine cabbage ; but it requires very
good land. Some of all the sorts would be best; but,
1 hope I have now given information enough to enable any
134 CABBAGES. [Part II.
one to form a judgment correct enough to begin with. Ex
perience will be the best guide for the future. An ounce of
each sort of seed would perhaps, be enough ; and the cost is,
when compared with the object,too trifling tobe thoughtof.
189. Notwithstanding all that I have said, or can
say, upon the subject of cabbages, 1 am very well
aware, that the extension of the cultivation of them, in
America, will be a work of time. A proposition to do
any thing new, in so common a calling as agriculture, is
looked at with suspicion ; and by some, with feelings not
of the kindest description ; because it seems to imply
an imputation of ignorance in those to whom the propo
sition is made. A little reflection will, however, sup
press this feeling in men of sense; and, those who still
entertain it may console themselves with the assurance,
that no one will desire to compel them to have stores of
green or moist, catlle-food in winter. To be ashamed to
be taught is one of the greatest of human follies: but,
I must say, that it is a folly less prevalent in America,
than in any other country with which I am acquainted.
190. Besides the disposition to reject novelties, this
proposition of mine has books to contend against. I
read, last fall, in an American Edition of the Encyclo
paedia Britannica, " greatly enlarged and improved,"
some observations on the culture of cabbages as cattle-
food, which were well calculated to deter a reader of
that book from attempting the culture. I do not recol
lect the words ; but the substance was, that this plant
could not be cultivated to advantage by the farmer IN
AMERICA. This was the more provoking to me, as I
tiad, at that moment, so line a piece of cabbages in
Long Island. If the American Editor of this work had
given his readers the bare, unimproved, Scotch Edition,
the reader would have there seen, that, in England and
Scotland, they raise sixty-eight tons of cabbages (tons
mind) upon an acre ; and that the whole expense of an
acre, exclusive of rent, is one pound fourteen shillings
and a penny ; or seven dollars and seventy-Jive cents.
Say that the expense in America is double and the crop
one half, or one fourth, if you like. Where are seven
teen tons of git en food in winter or even in summer, to
Chap. III.] CABBAGES. 135
be got for sixteen dollars ? Nay, where is that quantity,
of such a quality, to be got for fifty dollars? The
Scotch Edition gives an account ofjifty-four tans raised
on an acre where the land was worth only twelve shil
lings (less than three dollars} an acre. In fairness then,
the American Editor should have given to his agricultu
ral readers what the Scotchman had said upon the sub
ject. And if he still thought it right to advise the Ame
rican farmers not to think of cabbages, he should, I
think, have offered them some, at least, of the reasons
for his believing, that that which was obtained in such
abundance in England and Scotland, w as not to be ob
tained to any profit at all here. What ! will not this im
mense region furnish a climate, for this purpose, equal
even to Scotland, where an oat will hardly ripen ; and
where the crop of that miserable grain is sometimes har
vested amidst ice and snow ! The proposition is, upon the
face of it, an absurdity ; and my experience proves it to be
false.
191. This book says, if I recollect rightly, that the
culture has been tried, and has failed. Tried? How
tried ? That cabbages, and most beautiful cabbages will
grow in all parts of America, every farmer knows : for
he has them in his garden, or sees them every year, in
the gardens of others. And if they will grow in gar
dens, why not m fields ? Is there common sense in sup
posing, that they will not grow in a piece of land, be
cause it is not called a garden? The Encyclopedia Bri-
tannica gives an account of twelve acres of cabbages,
which would keep "forty-five oxen and sixty sheep for
" three months ; improving them as much as the grass
" in the best months in the year (in England) May,
" June, and July." Of these large cabbages, being at
four feet apart in the rows, one man will easily plant out
an acre in a day. As to the seed-bed , the labour of that
is nothing, as we have seen. Why, then, are men fright
ened at the labour ? All but the mere act of planting is
performed by oxen or horses ; and they never complain
of "the labour," The labour of an acre of cabbage
is ?iot half so much as that of an acre of Indian Corn.
The bringing in of the crop and applying it are not
13(3 CABBAGES. [Part II.
more expensive than those of the corn. And will anv
man pretend, that an acre of good cabbages is not
worth three times as much as a crop of good corn ? Be
sides, if- early cabbages, they are off and leave the land
for transplanted Swedish Turnips, for Late Cabbages,
or for Buck-wheat ; and if late cabbages, they come
after early ones, after wheat, rye, oats, or barley. This
is what takes place even in England, where the fall is so
much shorter, as to growing weather, than it is in Long
Island, and of course, all the way to Georgia. More
to the North, in the latitude of Boston, for instance,
two crops of early cabbages will come upon the same
ground ; or a crop of early cabbages will follow any
sort of grain, except Buck-wheat.
192. In concluding this Chapter I cannot help strongly
recommending farmers who may be disposed to try this
culture, to try it fairly. That is to say, to employ true
seed, good land, and due care; for, as "men do not
gather grapes from thorns, nor figs from thistles," so they
do not harvest cabbages from stems of rape. Then as
to the land, it must be made good and rich, if it be not
in that state already ; for a cabbage will not be fine, where
a white turnip will ; but as the quantity of land, want
ed for this purpose, is comparatively very small, the
land may easily be made rich. The after-culture of
cabbages is trifling. No weeds to plague us with hand-
work. Two good ploughings, at most, will suffice.
But ploughing after planting out is necessary ; and, be
sides, it leaves the ground in so fine a state. The trial
may be on a small scale, if the farmer please. Perhaps
it were best to be such. But, on whatever scale, let
the trial be \afair trial.
193. I shall speak again of the use of cabbages,
when J come to speak of Hogs and Cows.
[ 137 ]
CHAP. IV.
EARTH-BURNING. 1818.
1Q4. IN paragraph 99, 100, and 101, I spoke of a
mode of procuring manure by the burning of earth, and
I proposed to try it this present year. This I have now
done, and I proceed to give an account of the result.
19-3. I have tried the efficacy of this manure on Cab
bages, Swedish Turnips, Indian Corn, and Buck-wheat.
In the three former cases the ashes were put into the
furrow and the earth was turned over them, in the same
way that I have described, in paragraph 177, with re
gard to the manure for Savoys. I put at the rate of about
twenty tons weight to an acre. In the case of the Buck
wheat, the ashes were spread out of the wagon upon a
little strip of land ou the out-side of the piece. They were
thickly spread ; and it might be that the proportion ex
ceeded even thirty tons to the acre. But, upon the part
where the ashes were spread, the Buck-wheat was three
or four times as good as upon the land adjoining. The
land was very poor. It bore Buck-wheat last year, with
out any manure. It had two good ploughings then, and
it had two good ploughings again this year, but had no
manure, except the part above-mentioned and one other
part at a great distance from it. So that the trial was
very fair indeed.
196. In every instance the ashes produced great effect ;
and I am now quite certain that any crop may be raised
with the help of this manure; that is to say, any sort of
crop; for, of dung, wood-ashes, and earth-ashes, when
all are ready upon the spot, without purchase or carting
from a distance, the two former are certainly to be em
ployed in preference to the latter, because a smaller quan
tity of them will produce the same effect, and, of course,
the application of them is less expensive. But, in taking
to a farm unprovided with the two former; or under cir-
138 EARTH-BURNING. [Part II.
cumstances which make it profitable to add to the land
under cultivation, what can be so convenient, what so
cheap, as ashes procured in this way ?
197. A near neighbour of mine, Mr. DAYREA, sow
ed a piece of Swedish Turnips, broad-cast, in J une, this
year. The piece was near a wood, and there was a great
qtianity of clods of a grassy description. These he burnt
into asfies, which ashes he spread over one half of the
piece while he put soaper's as/ies over the other part of
the peice. I saw the turnips in October ; and there was
no visible difference in the two parts, whether as to the
vigorousness of the plants or the bulk of the turnips.
They were sown broad-cast, and stood unevenly upon
•the ground. They were harvested a month ago (it is now
26th November,) which was a month too early. They
would have been a third, at least, more in bulk, and much
better in quality, if they had remained in the ground until
now. The piece was 70 paces long and 7 paces wide,
and, the reader will find, that, as the piece produced/orfy
bushels, this was at the rate of four hundred bushels to
the acre.
198. What quantity of earth-ashes were spread on this
piece it is impossible to ascertain with precision ; but, I
shall suppose the quantity to have been very large indeed
in proportion to the surface of the land. Let it be four
times the quantity of the soaper's ashes. Still, the one was
made upon the spot, at, perhaps, a tenth pail of the cost
of the other; and, as such ashes can be made upon any
farm, there can be no reason for not trying the thing, at
any rate, and which truing may be effected upon so small
a scale as not to exceed in expense a half of a dollar. I
presume, that many farmers wall try this method of ob
taining manure ; and therefore, 1 will describe how the
burning is effected.
399. There are two ways of producing ashes from earth:
the one in heaps upon the ground, and the other within
walls of turf, or earth. The first, indeed, is the burning
of turf9 or peat. But, let us see how it is done.
200. The surface of the land is taken off to a depth
of two or three inches, and turned the earth side upper
most to dry. The land, of course, is covered with grass,
Chap. IV. J EARTH-BURNING. 139
or heath, or something the roots of which hold it together,
and which makes the part taken offtake the name of turf '.
In England, this operation is performed with a ffffp*
cutter, and by hand. The turfs are then taken, or a
part of them, at least, and placed on their edges, lean
ing against each other, like the two sides of the roof of a
house. In this state they remain, till they are dry enough
to burn. Then the burning is begun in this way. A
Jittle straw and some dry sticks, or any thing that will
make a trifling fire is lighted. Some little bits of the turf
are put to this. When the turf is on fire, more bits are
carefully put round against the openings whence the
smoke issues. In the course of a day or two the heap
grows large. The burning keeps working on the in
side, though there never appears any blaze. Thus the
field is studded with heaps. After \\\Q first fire is got to
be of considerable bulk, no straw is wanted for other
heaps, because a good shovel full of fire can be carried
to , light other heaps ; and so, until all the heaps are
lighted. Then the workmen goes from heap to heap,
and carries the turf to all, by degrees, putting some to
each heap every day or two, until all the field be burnt.
He takes care to keep in the smoke as much as possible.
When all the turf is put on, the field is left, and, in a
week or two, whether it rain or not, the heaps are ashes
instead of earth. The ashes are afterwards spread upon
the ground ; the ground is ploughed and sowed ; and
this is regarded as the very best preparation for a crop
of turnips.
201. This is called "paring and burning" It was
introduced into England by the Romans, and it is strongly
recommended in the First Georgic of Virgil, in, as Mr,
TULL shows, very fine poetry, very bad philosophy, and
still worse logic. It gives three or four crops upon
even poor land ; but, it ruins the land for an age. Hence
it is, that tenant*, in England, are, in many cases re
strained hvm paring and burning, especially towards the
close of their leases. It is the Roman husbandry, which
has always been followed, until within a century, by
the French and English. It is implicity followed in
France to this day; as it is by the great mass of
140 EARTH-BURNING. [Part. II.
jnoii farmers in England. All the foolish country say
ings about Friday being an unlucky day to begin any
thing fresh upon ; about the noise of Geese foreboding
bad weather; about the signs of the stars ; about the
influence of the moon on animals : these, and scores of
others, equally ridiculous and equally injurious to true
philosophy and religion, came from the Romans, and
are inculcated in those books, which pedants call " clas
sical" and which are taught to " young gentlemen'" at
the universities and in academies. Hence, too, the
foolish notions of sailors about Friday, which notions
very often retard the operations of commerce. I have
known many a farmer, when his wheat was dead ripe,
put off the beginning of harvest from Thursday to Sa
turday, in order to avoid Friday. The stars saves hun
dreds of thousands of lambs and pigs from sexual degra
dation at so early an age as the operation would other
wise be performed upon them. These heathen notions
still prevail in America as far as relates to this matter.
A neighbour of mine in Long Island, who was to ope
rate on some pigs and lambs for me, begged me to
put the thing off fora while; for that the Almanac
told him, that the signs were, just then, as unfavourable
as possible. I begged him to proceed, for that I set all
stars at defiance. He very kindly complied, and had
the pleasure to see, that every pig and lamb did well.
He was surprised when 1 told him, that this mysterious
matter was not only a bit of priest-craft, but of heathen
priest-craft, cherished by priests of a more modern date,
because it tended to bewilder the senses and to keep the
human mind in subjection. " What a thing it is, Mr.
" Wiggins," said I, " that a cheat practised upon the pa-
fe gans of Italy, two or three thousand years ago, should,
" by almanac-makers, be practised on a sensible farmer
" in America !" If priests, instead of preaching so much
about mysteries, were to explain to their hearers, the
origin of cheats like this, one might be ready to allow
that the wages paid to them were not wholly thrown
away.
. 202. I make no apology for this digression ; for, if
it have a tendency to set the minds of only a few per-
Chap. IV.] EARTH-BURN FNG. 141
sons on the tract of detecting the cheutery of priests, the
room \vhich it occupies will have been well bestowed.
203. To return to paring and burning; the reader
will see with what ease it might be done in America,
where the sun would do more than half the work. Be
sides, the paring might be done with the plough. A
sharp shear, going shallow, could do the thing perfectly
well. Cutting across would make the sward into turfs.
204. So much for paring and burning. But, what
\ recommend is, not to burn the land which is to be
cultivated, but other earth, for the purpose of getting
ashes to be brought on the land. And this operation, 1
perform thus: I make a circle, or an oblong square. I
cut sods and build a wall all round* three feet thick and
four feet high. I then light a tire in the middle with straw,
dry sticks, boughs, or such like matter. I go on making
this fire larger and larger till it extends over the whole of
the bottom of the pit, or kiln. 1 put on roots of trees or
any rubbish wood, till there be a good thickness of strong
coals. I then put on the driest of the clods that 1 have
ploughed up round about so as to cover all the fire over.
The earth thus put in w ill burn. You will see the smoke
coining out at little places here and there. Put more
clods wherever the smoke appears. Keep on thus for a
day or two. By this time a great mass of fire will be in
the inside. And now you may dig out the clay, or earth,
any where round the kiln, and fling it on without cere
mony, always taking care to keep in the smoke ; for, if
you suffer that to continue coming out at any one place,
a hole will soon be made ; the main force of the fire will
draw to that hole ; a blaz.e, like that of a volcano will
come out, and the tire .will be extinguished.
20o. A very good way, is, to put your finger into the
top of the heap here and there ; and if you find the fire
vert/ near, throw on more earth. Not too much at a
time ; lor that weighs too heavily on the tire, and keeps
it back ; and, atjirst, will put it partially out. You
keep on thus augmenting the kiln, till you get to the top
of the walls, and then you may, if you like, raise the walls,
and still go on. No rain will affect the tire when once
it is become strong.
142 EARTH-BURNING. [Part II.
206. The principle is to keep out air, whether at the
top or the sides, and this you are sure to do, if you keep
in the smoke, i burnt, this last summer, about thirty
wagon loads in one round kiln, and never saw the smoke
at all after the first four days. I put in my ringer to try
whether the fire was near the top; and when L found it
approaching, I put on more earth. Never was a kiln
more completely burnt.
207. Now, this may be done on the skirt of any wood
where the matters are all at hand. This mode is far
preferable to the above-ground burning in heaps. Be
cause in the first place, there the materials must be turf
and dry turf; and, in the next place, the smoke escapes
there., which is the finest part of burnt matter. Soot,
we know well, is more powerful than ashes ; and soot
is composed of the grossest part of the smoke. That
which flies out of the chimney is the best part of all.
208. In case of a want of wood wherewith to begin
the fire, the fire may be lighted precisely as in the case
of paring and burning. If the kiln be large, the oblong
square is the best figure. About ten feet wide, because
then a man can fling the earth easily over every part.
The mode they pursue in England, where there is no
wood, is to make a sort of building in the kiln with turfs,
and leave air-holes at the corners of the w alls till the fire
be well begun. But this is tedious work ; and in this
country wholly unnecessary. Care must, however, be
taken, that the fire be well lighted. The matter put in
atjirst should be such as is of the lightest description ;
so that a body of earth on fire may be obtained, before
it be too heavily loaded.
209. The burning being completed, having got the
quantity you want, let the kiln remain. The tire will
continue to work, 'till all is ashes. If you want to use
the ashes sooner, open the kiln. They will be cold
enough to remove in a week.
210. Some persons have peat, or bog earth. This
may be burnt like common earth, in kilns, or dry, as in
the paring and burning method. Only, the peat should
be cut out in the shape of bricks, as much louger and
bigger as you find convenient, and set up to dry, in the
Chap. IV.] EARTH-BURNING. 145
same way that bricks are set up to dry previous to the
burning. This is the only fuel for houses in some parts
of England, i myself \vas nursed and brought up with
out ever seeing any other sort of fire. The ashes used,
in those times, to be sold for four pence sterling a bushel,
and were frequently carried, after the purchase, to a dis
tance of ten miles, or more : At this time, in my own
neighbourhood, in Hampshire, peat is burnt in large
quantities for the ashes, which are sold, I believe, as
high as sixpence sterling a bushel, and carried to a dis
tance even of twenty miles in some cases.
211. Nevertheless, it is certain, that these ashes are
not equally potent upon every sort of soil. We do not
use them much at Botley, though upon the spot. They
are carried away to the higher and poorer lands, where
they are sown by hand upon clover and sain-foin. An
excellent farmer, in this Island, assures me, that he has
tried them in various ways, and never found them to
have effect. So say the farmers near Botley. But, there
is no harm in making a trial. It is done with a mere
nothing of expense. A yard square in a garden is quite
sufficient for the experiment.
212. With respect to earth-ashes, burnt in kilns,.
keeping in the. smoke, I have proved their great good
effect ; but, still, 1 would recommend trying them upon
a small scale. However, let it be borne in mind, that
the proportion to the acre ought to be large. Thirty
good tons to an acre ; and why may it not be such, see
ing that the expense is so trifling?
[ 144 J
CHAP. V.
TRANSPLANTING INDIAN CORN.
1218. I WAS always of opinion, that this would be the
best mode, under certain circumstances, of dealing with
this crop. The spring, in this part of America, and
further to the North, is but short. It is nearly winter
'till it is summer. The labours of the year are, at this
season very much crowded. To plant the grains of the
Indian Corn over a. whole field requires previous plough
ing, harrowing, marking, and manuring. The conse
quence is, that, as there are so many other things to do,
something is but too often badly done.
214? Now, if this work of Corn planting could be
postponed to the 25th of June (for this Island) instead
of being performed on, or about, the 15th of May, how
well the ground might be prepared by the 25th of June !
This can be done only by transplanting the plants of
the Corn. I was resolved to try this ; and so confident
was I that it would succeed, that I had made some part
of my preparations for six acres.
215. 1 sowed the seed at about three inches apart, in
beds, on the QOth of May. The plants stood in the
beds (about 15 perches of ground) till ihvjirst of July.
They were now7 two feet and a half high ; and I was
ready to begin planting out. The weather had been dry
in the extreme. Not a drop of rain for nearly a month.
My land was poor, but clean ; and 1 ought to have pro
ceeded to do the job at once. My principal man had
heard so much in ridicule of the project, that he was
constantly begging and praying me not to persevere.
" Every body said it was impossible for the Corn to
live!" However, I began. I ploughed a part of
the field into four-feet ridges, and, one evening, set en,
thus : I put a good quantity of eaith-ashes in the deep
furrow between the ridges, then turned back the
Chap. V.] TRANSPLANTING INDIAN CORN. 145
eartli over them, and then planted the Corn on the ridge,
at a foot apart. We pulled up the plants without cere
mony, cut off their roots to half an inch long, cut off their
leaves about eight inches down from their points, and,
with a long setting stick, stuck them about seven inches
into the ground down amongst the fresh mould and ashes.
21(>. This was on thejirst of July in the evening ;
and, not willing to be laughed at too much, I thought I
would pause two or three days ; for, really the sun seem
ed as if it would burn up the very earth. At the close
of the second day, news was brought me, that the Com
was all dead. I went out and looked at it, and though
I saw that it was not dead, I suffered the everlasting
gloomy peal that my people rang in my ears to extort
from me my consent to the pulling up of the rest of
the plants and throwing them away ; consent which was
acted upon with such joy, alacrity, and zeal, that the
whole lot were lying under the garden fence in a few
minutes. My man intended to give them to the oxen,
from the charitable desire, I suppose, of annihilating
this proof of his master's folly. He would have pulled
up the two rows which we had transplanted ; but, I
would not consent to that ; for, I was resolved, that
they should have a week's trial. At the end of the week
I went out and looked at them. I slipped out at a time
•when no one was likely to see me ! At a hundred yards
distance the plants looked like so many little Cornstalks
in November ; but, at twenty yards, I saw that all was
right, and 1 began to reproach myself for having suffer
ed my mind to be thwarted in its purpose by opinions
opposed to principles. I saw, that the plants were all
alive) and had begun to shoot in the heart. I did not
stop a minute. I hastened back to the garden to see
whether any of the plants, which lay in heaps, were yet
alive.
217. Now mind, the plants were put out on the first
of July ; the 15 succeeding days were not only dry, but
the very hottest of this gloriously hot summer. The
plants that had been Jiung away were, indeed, nearly
all dead ; but, some, which lay at the bottom of the
heaps, were not only alive, but had shot their roots into
G
146 TRANSPLANTING INDIAN CORN. [Part II.
the ground. I resolved to plant out two rows of these,
even these. While 1 was at it Mr. JUDGE MITCHELL
called upon me. He laughed at us very heartily. This was
on the 8/ h of July. I challenged him to take him three to
one my two rows against any two rows of his corn of equal
" length ; and he is an excellent farmer on excellent land.
" Then," said I, " if you are afraid to back your opinion,
" 1 do not mind your laugh."
218. On the 27th of August Mr. JUDGE MITCHELL
and his brotherthejustly celebrated DOCTOR MITCHELL
did me the honour to call here. I was gone to the mill;
but they saw the Corn. The next day 1 had the pleasure
to meet Dr. Mitchell, for the first time, at his brother's :
and a very great pleasure it was ; for a man more full of
knowledge and apparently less conscious of it, I never
saw in my life. But, the Corn : " What do you think of
"my Corn now ? " I asked Mr. MIT c HELL whether he did
not think I should have won the wager. " Why, I do not
know, indeed," said he, C( as to the two first planted rows/
219. On the \0tfi of September, Mr. JUDGE LAW
RENCE, in company with a young gentleman, saw the
Corn. He examined the ears. Said that they wer
well-filled, and the grains large. He made some calcu
lations as to the amount of the crop. 1 think he agreed
with me, that it would be at the rate of about forty
bushels to the acre. All that now7 remained was to har
vest the Corn, in a few weeks' time, to shell, to weigh
it ; and to obtain a couple of rows of equal length of
every neighbour surrounding me ; and then, make the
comparison, the triumphant result of which 1 antici
pated with so much certainty, that my impatience for
the harvest exceeded in degree the heat of the weather,
though that continued broiling hot. That very night !
the night following the day when Mr. JUDGE LA W^R EN c E
saw the Corn, eight or nine steers and heifers leaped,
or broke, into my pasture from the road, kindly poked
(low n the fence of the field to take with them four oxen
of my own which had their heads tied down, and in they
all went just upon the transplanted Corn, of which they
left neither ear nor stem, except about two bushels of
ears which they had, in their haste, trampled under
Chap. V.] TRANSPLANTING INDIAN CORN. 147
foot ! What a mortification ! Half an acre of fine cab
bages nearly destroyed by the biting a hole in the hearts
of a great part of them ; turnips torn up and trampled
about; a scene of destruction and waste, which, at another
time, would have made me stamp and rave (if not swear)
like a mad-man, seemed now nothing at all. The Corn
was such a blow, that nothing else was felt. I was, too,
both hand-tied and tongue-tied, i had nothing to wreak
my vengeance on. In the case of the Boroughmongers
I can repay blow with blow, and, as they have already
felt, with interest and compound interest. But, there
was no human being that I could blame • and, as to
the depredators themselves, though in this instance, their
conduct did seem worthy of another being, whom priests
have chosen to furnish with horns as well as tail, what
was 1 to do against them ? In short, 1 had, for once
in my life, to submit peaceably and quietly, and to con
tent myself with a firm resolution never to plant or sow
again, without the protection of a fence, which an ox
cannot get over and which a pig cannot go under.
220. This Corn had every disadvantage to contend
with : poor land ; no manure but earth-ashes burnt out
of that same land ; planted in dry earth ; planted in
dry and hot weather ; no rain to enter two inches, until
the 8th of August, nine and thirty days after the trans
planting ; and yet ever?/ plant had one good perfect ear,
and, besides, a small ear to each plant ; and some of the
plants had three ears, two perfect and one imperfect.
Even the two last-planted rows, though they were not so
good, were not bad. My opinion is, that their produce
would have been at the rate of 25 bushels to the acre ;
and this is not a bad crop of Corn.
22 1 . For my part, if I should cultivate Corn again, I
•shall transplant it to a certainty. Ten days earlier,
perhaps ; but I shall certainly transplant what I grow.
I know, that the labour will be less, and I believe that
the crop will be far greater. No dropping the seed ;
no hand-hoeing ; no patching after the cut-worm, or
brown grub ; no suckers ; no grass and weeds ; no
stifling ; every plant has its proper space ; all is clean ;
and one good deep ploughing, or two at most, leaves the
G 2
148 TRANSPLANTING INDIAN CORN. [Part II.
ground as clean as a garden ; that is to say, as a garden
UK gilt to be. The sowing of the seed in beds is one day's
work (for ten acres) for one man. Hoeing the young plants
another day. Transplanting,^?//1 dollars an acre to the
very outside. " But where are the hands to come from to
" do the transplanting ?" One would think, that, to hear
this question so often repeated, the people in America
were like the Rhodian Militia, described in the beautiful
poem of Dryden, " mouths without hands." Far, how
ever, is this from being the case ; or else, where would
the hands come from to do the marking; the dropping
and covering of the Corn ; the hand-hoeing of it, some
times twice ; patching, after the grubs ; the suckering
when that work is done, as it always ought to be ? Put
the plague and expenses of all these operations together,
and you will, I believe, find them to exceed four, or even
six, dollars an acre, if they be all well done, and the Corn
kept perfectly clean.
222. The transplanting often acres of Corn cannot be
done a II in one day by two or three men ; nor is it at all ne
cessary that it should. It may be done within the space of
twelve or fourteen days. Little boys and girls, very small,
wi!J cany the plants, and if the farmer will but try, he will
stick in an acre a day himself; for, observe, nothing is so
easily done. There is no few of dearth. The plants in soft
ground, might almost be poked down like so many sticks.
1 did not t?y it ; but, 1 am pretty sure, that the roots might
be cut all oft' close, so that the stump were left entire. For,
mind, ^fibre^ of » Stout thing, never grows again after re
moval. JSew ones must come out of new roots too, or the
plant, whether corn or tree, will die. When some people
plant trees, they are so careful not to cut off the little
hairy fibres ; for these, they think, will catch hold of the
ground immediately. If, when they have planted in
the fall, they were to open the ground in June the next
year, what would be their surprize to find all the hairy
fibres in a mouldy state, and the new small roots shot
out of the big roots of the tree, and no new fibres at all
yet ! for, these come out of the new small roots ! It is
the same with every sort of plant, except of a very small
size and very quickly moved from earth to earth.
Chap. V.] TRANSPLANTING INDIAN CORN. I -H)
223. If any one choose to try this method of cultivat
ing Corn, let him bear in mind, that the plants ought to
be stroiig, and nearly two feet /ugh. The leaves should
be shortened by all means ; for they must perish at the
tops before the new flow of sap can reach them. 1 have
heard people say, that they have tried transplanting
Corn very often, but have never found it to answer.
.But how have they tried it ? Why, when the grub has
destroyed a hill, they have taken from other hills the su
perabundant plants and filled up the vacancy. In the
first place, they have done this when the plants were
small : that is not my plan. Then they put the plants
in stale hard ground : that is not my plan. Then they
have put them into ground where prosperous neighbours
had the start of them : that is not my plan. I am not
at all surprised, that they have not found their plan to
answer; but that is no reason that mine should not an
swer. The best way will be to try three rows in any field,
and see which method requires the least labour and pro
duces the largest crop.
224. At any rate, the facts, which I have stated upon
this subject are curious in themselves ; they are useful,
as they show what we may venture to do in the remov
ing of plants : and they show most clearly how unfound
ed are the fears of those, who imagine, that Corn is
injured by ploughing between it and breaking its roots.
My plants owed their vigour and their fruit to their re
moval into fresh pasture ; and the oftener the land is
ploughed between growing crops of any sort (allowing
the roots to shoot between the ploughings) the better it
is. I remember that LORD RANELAGH showed me in
1806, in his garden at Fulham, a peach tree, which he
had removed in full bloom, and that must have been in
March, and which bore a good crop of fine fruit the
same year. If a tree can be thus dealt with, why need
we fear to transplant such things as Indian Corn.
[ 15
CHAP. VI.
SWEDISH TURNIPS.
225. UPON this subject 1 have no great deal to add
to what was said in Part 1. Chap. 1 1. There are a few
things, however, that I omited to mention, which I will
mention here.
2£6. I sow my seed by hand. All machinery is im
perfect for this purpose. The wheel of the drill meets
with a sudden check • it jumps ; the holes are stopped ;
a clogging or an improper impelling takes place ; a gap
is produced, and it can never be put to rights ; and,
after all, the sowing upon four-feet ridges is very nearly
as quickly performed by hand. I make the drills, or
channels, to sow the seed in by means of a light roller,
which is drawn by a horse, which rolls two ridges at a
time, and which has two markers following the roller,
making a drill upon the top of each ridge. This saves
time ; but, if the hand do the whole, a man will draw the
drills, sow the seed, and cover an acre in a day with ease.
227. The only mischief in this case, is, that of sow
ing too thick ; and this arises from the seed being so
nearly of the colour of the earth. To guard against this
evil, I this year adopted a method which succeeded per
fectly. I wetted the seed with water a little, 1 then put
some whitening to it, and by rubbing them well toge
ther, the seed became white instead of brown ; so that
the man when sowing, could see what he was about.
228. In my directions for transplanting turnips, I
omitted to mention one very important tiling; the care
to be taken not to bury the heart of the plant. I ob
served how necessary it was to fix the plaut/zrm/z/ in
the ground; and, as the planter is strictly charged to do
this, he is apt to pay little attention to the means by
which the object is accomplished. The thing is done
easily enough, if you cram the butts of the leaves down
below the surface. But, this brings the earth, with the
Chap. VI.] SWEDISH TURNIPS. 151
first rain at least, over the heart of the plant ; and then
it will never grow at all : it will just live ; but will never
increase in size one single jot. Care, therefore, must
be taken of this. The fixing is to be effected by the stick
being applied to the point of the root ; as mentioned
in paragraph 85. Not to fix the plant is a great fault ;
but to bury the heart is a much greater ; for, if this be
done the plant is sure to die.
229. My own crop of Swedish Turnips this year is tar
inferior to that of last in every respect. The season has
been singularly unfavourable to all green and root crops.
The grass has been barer than it was, I believe, ever
known to be ; and, of course, other vegetables have ex
perienced a similar fate. Yet, I have some very good
turnips ; and, even with such a season, they are worth
more than three times what a crop of Corn on the same
land would have been. I am now (25th Nov.) giving
the greens to my cow and hogs. A cow and forty stout
hogs eat the greens of about twenty or thirty rods of
turnips in a day. My five acres of greens will last about
25 days. I give no corn or grain of any sort to these
hogs, and my English hogs are quite fat enough Jor
fresh pork. I have about 25 more pigs to join these
"forty in a month's time : about 40 more will join
those before April. My cabbages on an acre and a half
of ground will carry me well on till February (unless 1
send my savoys to New York,) and, when the cabbages
are done, i have my Swedish Turnips for March, April,
May and June, with a great many to sell if I choose.
I have, besides, a dozen ewes to keep on the same food,
with a few wethers and lambs for my house. Jn June
Early Cabbages come in; and then the hogs feed on
them. Thus the year is brought round.
230. But what pleases me most, as to the Swedish
Turnips, is, that several of my neighbours have tried
the culture, and have far surpassed me in it this year.
Their land is better than mine, and they have had no
Borough-villains and Bank-villains to light against.
Since my Turnips were sown, I have written great part
of a Grammar and have sent twenty Registers to Eng
land, besides writing letters amounting to a reasonable
152 SWEDISH TURNIPS. [Part II.
volume in bulk ; the whole of which has made an ave
rage of nine 'pages of common print a day, Sundays in
cluded. And, besides this, I have been ticehe days from
home, on business, and about Jive on visits. Now,
whatever may have been the quality of the writings ;
whether they demanded mind or not, is no matter ; they
demanded time for the fingers to move in, and yet, I
have not written a hundred pages by candle-light. A
man knows not what he can do 'till he tries. But, then
mind, I have always been up with the cocks and hens ;
and I have drunk nothing but milk and water. It is a
saying, that " wine inspires wit f and that " in wine
" there is truth." These sayings are the apologies of
drinkers. Every thing that produces intoxication,
though in but the slightest degree, is injurious to the
mind; whether it be such to the body or not, is a matter
of far less consequence. My Letter to JVJr. TIERNEY,
on the state of the Paper-Money, has, I rind, produced
a great and general impression in England. The sub
ject was of great importance, and the treating it involv
ed much of that sort of reasoning which is the most
difficult of execution. That Letter, consisting of thirty-
two full pages of print, I wrote in one day, and that,
too, on the llth of July, the hottest day in the year.
But, I never could have done this, if I had been guz
zling wine, or grog, or beer, or cider all the day. I hope
the reader will excuse this digression ; and, for my own
part, I think nothing of the charge of egotism, if, by in
dulging in it, I produce a proof of the excellent effects
of sobriety. It is not drunkenness that I cry out against :
that is beastly, and beneath my notice. It is drinking ;
for a man may be a great drinker, and yet no drunkard.
He may accustom himself to swallow, 'till his belly is a
jort of tub. The Spaniards, who are a very sober peo
ple, call such a man " a wine bag," it being the custom
in that country to put wine into bags, made of skins or
hides. And indeed, wine bag or grog bag or beer bag
is the suitable appellation.
231. To return to the Swedish Turnips, it was im
possible for me to attend to them in person at all ; for,
if I once got out, I should have kept out. I was very
Chap. VI.] SWEDISH TURNIPS. 153
anxious about them ; but much more anxious about my
duty to my countrymen, who have remained so firmly at
tached to me, and in whose feelings and views, as to
public matters, I so fully participate. I left my men to
do their best, and, considering the seasons, they did very
well. 1 have observed before, that I never saw my *S'a-
voys 'till two months after tlley were planted out in the
field, and I never saw some of my Swedish Turnips
'till within these fifteen days.
232. But, as I said before, some of my neighbours
have made the experiment with great success. I men
tioned Mr. Dayrea's crop before, at paragraph 197. Mr.
HART, at South Hampstead, has fine a piece, as my son
informs me. His account is, that the field looked, in
October, as fine as any that he ever saw in England. Mr.
JUDGE MITCHELL has a small field that were, when
I saw them, as fine as any that I ever saw in my life.
He had transplanted some in the driest and hottest wea
ther ; and they were exceedingly fine, notwithstanding
the singular untowardness of the season.
233. Mr. JAMES BYRD of Flushing, has, however,
done the thing upon the largest scale. He sowed, in
June, about two acres and a half upon ridges thirty
inches apart. They were very fine ; and, in Septem
ber, their leaves met across the intervals. On the '21st
of September I saw them for the second time. The field
was one body of beautiful green. The weather still very
dry. 1 advised Mr. Byrd to plough between them by all
means ; for the roots had met long before across the in
terval. He observed, thatthe horse would trample on the
leaves. I said, " never mind : the good done by the
" plough will be ten times greater than the injury done
" by the breaking of leaves." He said, that, great as his
fears were, he would follow my advice. 1 saw the turnips
again on the 8th of October, when I found that he had be
gun the ploughing ; but, that the horse made such havock
timong the leaves and his workmen made such clamorous
remonstrances, that, after doing a little piece, Mr. Byrd
desisted. These were reasons wholly insufficient to
satisfy me; and at the latter, the remonstrances of a
workman, 1 should have ridiculed, without a grain. of
154 SWEDISH TURNIPS. [Part II.
mercy, only I recollected, that my men had remonstrated
me (partly with sorrowful looks and shakes of the head)
out of my design to transplant six acres of Indian
Corn.
234. Mr. BYRD'S crop was about 350 bushels to
an acre. I was at his house on the 23rd of this monch
(November) ; and there I heard two things from him
which I communicate with great pleasure. The first
was, that, from the time he began taking up his turnips
he began feeding his cows upon the greens ; and, that
this doubted the quantity of their milk. That the greens
might last as long as possible, he put them in small
heaps, that they might not heat. He took up his tur
nips, however, nearly a month too early. They grow till
the hard frosts come. * The greens are not so good till
they have had some little frost ; and the bulb should
be ripe. I have been now (27th Nov.) about ten days
cutting off my greens. The bulbs I shall take up in
about ten days hence. Those that are not consumed
by that time, I shall put in small heaps in the field, and
bring them away as they may be wanted.
235. The other thing stated to me by Mr. BYRD
pleased me very much indeed; not only on account of
its being a complete confirmation of a great principle of
TULT, applied to land in this climate, but on account
also of the candour of Mr. BYRD, who, when he had
seen the result, said, " I was wrong, friend Cobbett, in
not following thy advice." And then he went on to tell
me, that the turnips in the piece which he had ploughed
after the Q\st of September were a crop a fourth part
greater than those adjoining them, which remained un-
ploughed. Thus, then, let no one be afraid of breaking
the pretty leaves that look so gay ; and, how false, then,
must be the notion, that to plough Indian Corn in dry
weather, or late is injurious ! Why should it not be as
beneficial to Corn as to Turnips and Cabbages?
236. Mr. BYRD transplanted with his superabund
ant plants, about two acres and a half. These he had not
taken up on the 23rd of November. They were not
so fine us the others, owing, in part, to the hearts of
many having been buried, and to the whole having been
Chap.VI.] SWEDISH TURNIPS. \oo
put too deep into the ground. Bat, the ridges of both
fields were too close together. Four feet is the distance.
You cannot plough clean and deep within a smaller
space without throwing the earth over the plants. But,
as bulk of crop is the object, it is very hard to persuade
people, that two rows are not better than one. Mr. JUDGE
MITCHELL is a true disciple of the TULLT AN SYSTEM.
His rows were four feet asunder ; his ridges high ; all
according to rule. If I should be able to see his crop,
or him, before this volume goes to press, I will give some
account of the result of his labour.
237. This year has shown me, that America is not
wholly exempt from that mortal enemy of turnips, the
fly, which mauled some of mine, and which carried off
a whole piece for Mr. JUDGE LAWRENCE at Bay-side.
Mr. BYRD says, that he thinks, that to soak the seed iu
tishroil is of use as a protection. It is very easy to try it ;
but, the best security is, pretty early sowing thick, and
transplanting. However, this has been a singular year;
and, even this year, the ravages of the fly have been,
generally speaking, but trifling.
238. Another enemy has, too, made his appearance:
the caterpillar ; which came about the tenth of October.
These eat the leaves ; and, sometimes, they will, as in
England, eat all up, if left alone. In Mr. BvRD'sfield,
they were proceeding on pretty rapidly, and, therefore,
he to >k up his turnips earlier than he would have done.
Wide rows are a great protection against these sinecure
gentry of the field-. They attacked me on the outside
of a piece joining some buck-wheat, where they had
been bred. When the buck-wheat was cut, they sal
lied out upon the turnips, and, like the spawn of real
Boroughmongers, they, after eating all the leaves of
the first row, went on to the second, and were thus pro
ceeding to devour the whole. I went with my plough,
ploughed a deep furrow from the lows of turnips, as
far as the caterpillars had gone. J ast shook the plants
and gave the top of the ridge a bit of a sweep with a
little broom. Then buried them alive, by turning the
furrows back. Oh; that the people of England could
treat the Borough-villains and their swarms in the same
156 SWEDISH TURNIPS. [Part II.
way ! Then might they hear without envy of the easy
and happy lives of American farmers !
2SQ. A good sharp frost is the only complete doctor
for this complaint ; but, wide rows and ploughing will
do much, where the attack is made in lute, as in my
case. Sometimes, however, the enemy starts up, here
and there, all over the field ; and then you must plough
the whole field, or be content with turnips without
greens, and with a diminished crop of turnips into the
bargain. Mr. BYRD told me, that the caterpillars did
not attack the part of the field which heploughed after
the Zlst of September with nearly so much fury as they
attacked the rest of the field ! To be sure ; for, the
turnip leaves there, having received fresh vigour from
the ploughing, were of a taste more acrid; and, you
always see, that insects and reptiles, that feed on leaves
and bark, choose the most sickly or feeble plants to
begin upon, because the juices in them are sweeter.
So that here is another reason, and not a weak one, for
deep and late ploughing.
240. I shall speak again of Swedish turnips whe« I
come to treat of hogs ; but, I will here add a few re
marks on the subject of preserving the roots. In para
graph 106, I described the manner in which I stacked
my turnips last year. That did very well. But, I will
not, this year, make any hole in the ground, I will
pile up about thirty bushels upon the level ground, in
a pyramidical form, and then, to keep the earth from
running amongst them, put over a little straw, or leaves
of trees, and about four or five, inches of earth over the
whole. For mind, the object is not to prevent freez
ing. The turnips will freeze as hard as stones. But,
so that they do not see the sun or the light, till they are
thawed, it is no- matter. This is the case even with
apples. I preserved white turnips this way last year.
Keep the light out, and all will be safe with every root
that I know any thing of, except that miserable thing,
the polcitoe, which, consisting of earth, of a small por
tion of flour, and of water unmixed with sugar, will
freeze to perdition, if it freeze at all. .Mind, it is no
matter to the animals whether the Swedish turnip, the
Chap. VI. J SWEDISH TURNIPS. 157
white turnip, or the cabbage, be frozen, or not, at the time
when they eat them. They are just as good ; and are as
greedily eaten. Otherwise, how would our sheep in Eng
land fatten on turnips (even white turnips) in the open
iields and amidst snows and hard frosts '? But, a potatoe,
let the frost once touch it, and it is wet dirt.
24 1 . I am of opinion, that if there were no earth put
over the turnip heaps, or stacks, it would be better ;
and, it would be much more convenient. I shall venture
it for a part of my crop ; and I would recommend others
to try it. The Northern Winter is, thererore, no objec
tion to the raising of any of these crops ; and, indeed,
the crops are far more necessary there than to the South
ward, because the Northern VV inter is so much longer
than the Southern. Let the snows (even the Nova
Scotia snows) come. There are the crops safe. Ten mi
nutes brings in a wagon load at any time in winter, and
the rest remain safe till spring.
242. [ have been asked how I would manage the
Swedish turnips, so as to keep them 'till June or July. In
April (for Long Island ;) that is to say, when the roots
begin to shoot out greens, or, as they will be,^e//ou;£,wheii
hidden from the light. Let me stop here a moment, to
make a remark which this circumstance has suggested. I
have said before, that if you keep the bulbs from the light,
they will freeze and thaw without the least injury. I was
able to give no reason for this ; and who can give a rea
son for leaves being yellow if they grow in the dark^ and
green if they grow in the light ? It is notihe sun (except
as the source of light) that makes the green ; for any
plant that grows in constant shade-will be green ; while
one that grows in the dark will be yellow. When my SOB,
JAMES, was about three years old, LORD COC:IRANE,
lying against a green bank in the garden with him, had
asked him many questions about the sky, and the river,
and the sun and the moon, in order to learn what were
the notions, as to those objects, in the mind of a child.
JAMES grew tired, for as ROUSSEAU, in his admirable
exposure of the folly of teaching by question and answer,
observes, nobody likes to be questioned, and especially
children. " VV el!," said JAMES, " now you tell me some-
1£8 SWEDISH TURNIPS. [Part 11.
thing : what is it that makes the grass green ?" His Lord
ship told him it was the sun. "Why," said JAMES,
pulling up some grass, " you see it is white down here"
" Aye," replied my Lord, " but that is because the sun
cannot get at it" " How get at it?" said JAMES:
"The sun makes it hot all the way down." LORD
COCHRANE, came in to me, very much delighted :
" Here," saidhe, little JEMMY has started a fine sub
ject of dispute for all the philosophers." If this page
should have the honour to meet the eye of Lord COCH
RANE, it will remind him of one of the many happy hours
that we have passed together, and 1 beg him to regard
any mention of the incident as a mark of that love and
respect which 1 bear towards him, and of the ardent
desire I constantly have to see him avenged on all vile,
cowardly, perjured and infamous persecutors.
243. When any one has told me, what it is that makes
" grass green," L shall be able to tell him what it is that
makes darkness preserve turnips ; and, in the mean
while, I am quite content with a perfect knowledge of
the effects.
'244. So far for the preservation while winter lasts ;
but, then, how to manage the roots when spring comes ?
Take the turnips out of the heaps ; spread them upon
the ground round about, or any where else in the sun.
Let them get perfectly dry. If they lie a month in sun
and rain alternately, it does not -signify. They will
take no injury. Throw them on a barn'sjioor ; throw
them into a shed ; put them any where out of the way ;
only do not put them in thick heaps ; for then they will
heat, perhaps, and grow a little. I believe they may be
kept the whole year perfectly sound and good ; but, at
any rate, I kept them thus, last year, 'till July.
245. Of saving seed I have some little to say. I saved
.some, in order to see whether it degenerated ; but
having, before the seed was ripe, had such complete
proof of the degeneracy of cabbage seed ; having been
assured by Mr. WILLIAM SMITH, of Great Neck, that
the Swedish turnip seed had degenerated with him to a
long whitish root ; and, having, besides, seen the long,
pale looking things in New York Market in June ; I
Chap. VI.] SWEDISH TURNIPS. 159
took no care of what I had growing, being sure of the
real sort from England. However, Mr. BY IID'S were
from his own seed, which he has saved forseveral years.
They differ from mine. They are longer in proportion
to their circumference. The leaf is rather more pointed,
and the inside of the bulb is not of so deep a yellow.
Some of Mr. BYRD'S have a little hole towards the crown,
and the flesh is spotted with white where the green is
cut of. He ascribes these defects to the season ; and
it may be so ; but, I perceive them in none of my tur
nips, which are as clear and as sound, though not so
large, as they were last year.
24(j. Seed is a greater matter. Perhaps the best way,
for farmers in general, would be always to save some,
culling the plants carefully, as mentioned in paragraph
32. This might be sown, and also some English seed,
the expense being so very trifling compared with the
value of the object. At any rate, by saving some seed,
a man has something to sow ; and he has it always ready.
He might change his seed once in three or four years.
But, never forgetting carefully to select the plants, from
which the seed is to be raised.
POSTSCRIPT TO THE CHAPTER ON SWEDISH TURNIPS.
247. Since writing the above, I have seen Mr. JUDGE
MITCHELL, and having requested him to favour me with
•a written account of his experiment, he has obligingly
complied with my request in a letter, which I here in
sert, together with my answer.
DEAR SIR, Ploudome, 7 Dec. 1818.
S48. About the first of June last, I received the First
Part of your Year's Residence in the United States,
which 1 was much pleased with, and particularly the
latter part of the book, which contains a treatise on tire
culture of the Ruta Bagi. This mode of culture was
new to me, and I thought it almost impossible that a
thousand bushels should be raised from one acre of
160 SWEDISH TURNIPS. [Part IL
ground. Howerer, I felt very anxious to try the experi
ment in a small way.
249. Accordingly, on the 6th day of June, I ploughed
up a small piece of ground, joining my salt meadow,
containing sixty-Jive rods, that had not been ploughed
for nearly thirty years. I ploughed the ground deep,
and spread on it about ten wagon loads of composition,
manure; that is to say, rich earth and yard manure
mixed in a heap, a layer of each alternately. I then
harrowed the ground with an iron-toothed harrow, until
the surface was mellow, and the manure well mixed
with the earth.
250. On the first of July I harrowed the ground over
several times, and got the surface in good order ; but, in
consequence of such late ploughing, I dared not venture
to cross-plough, for fear of tearing up the sods, which
were not yet rotten. On the 7th of July I ridged the
ground, throwing four furrows together, and leaving the
tops of the ridges four feet asunder, and without putting
in any manure. I went very shoal with the plough be
cause deep ploughing would have turned up the sods.
251 . On the eighth of July 1 sowed the seed, in single
rows on the tops of the ridges, on all the ridges except
about eighteen. On eight of these I sowed the seed on
the 1 9th of July, when the first sowing was up, and very
severely attacked by the flea ; and I was fearful of losing
the whole of the crop by that insect. About the last of
July there came a shower, which gave the turnips a
start; and, on the eighth day of August I transplanted
eight of the remaining rows, early in the morning. The
weather was now vert/ dry, and the turnips sown on the
IQth of July were just coming up. On the 10th of
August I transplanted the two other rows at mid-day,
and, in consequence of such dry weather, the tops ail
"died; but, in a few days, began to look green. And,
in a few weeks, those that had been transplanted looked
as thrifty as those that had been sown.
252. On the 10th of August 1 regulated the sown rows,
and left the plants standing from six to twelve inches apart.
253. A part of the seed 1 received from you, and a
part I had from France a few years ago. When I
Chap. VI.] SWEDISH TURNIPS. 161
gathered the crop, the transplanted turnips were nearly
as large as those that stood where they were sown.
254. The following is the produce : Two Inuidred
and two bushels on sixty-jive rod of ground; a crop
arising from a mode of cultivation for which, Sir, I feel
very much indebted to you. This crop, as you will
perceive, wants but two bushels and a fraction of Jive
hundred bushels to the acre ; and I verily believe, that,
on this mode of cultivation, an acre of land, which will
bring a hundred bushels of corn ears, will produce from
seven to eight hundred bushels of theRuts Baga Turnip.
255. Great numbers of my turnips weigh six pounds
each. The greens were almost wholly destroyed by a
caterpillar, which I never before saw ; so that I had no
opportunity of trying the use of them as cattle-food ; but,
as to the root, cattle and hogs eat it greedily, and cattle
as well as hogs eat up the little bits that remain attached
to the fibres, when these are cut from the bulbs.
256. 1 am now selling these turnips at half a dollar
a bushel.
257. With begging you to accept of my thanks for
the useful information, which, in common with many
others, I have received from your Treatise on this valu
able plant,
I remain,
Dear Sir,
Your most obedient servant,
SINGLETON MITCHELL.
To Mr. Wm. Cobbett,
Hyde Park.
258. P. S. [ am very anxious to see the Second Part
of your Year's Residence. When will it be published ?
ANSWER.
DEAR SIR, Hyde Park,Qth Dec. 1818.
259. Your letter has given me very great pleasure*
You have really tried the thing : you have given it a
162 SWEDISH TURNIPS. [Part II.
fail trial. Mr. TULL, when people said of his horse-
hoeing system, that they had tried it, and found it not
to answer, used to reply, : " What have they tried? all
lies in the little word IT."
160. You have really tried it ; and very interesting
your account is. it is a complete answer to all those
who talk about loss of ground from four-feet ridges;
and especially when we compare your crop with that of
Mr. JAMES BYRD, of Flushing ; whose ground was
prepared at an early season ; who manured richly :
who kept his land like a neat garden; and, in short,
whose field was one of the most beautiful objects of
which one can from an idea ; but, whose ridges were
about two feet and a half apart, instead of four feet,
and who had three hundred and fifty bushels to the
acre, while you, with all your disadvantages of late
ploughing and sods beneath, had at the rate of free
hundred bushels.
261. From so excellent a judge as you are, to hear
commendation of my little Treatise, must naturally be
very pleasing to me, as it is a proof that I have not en
joyed the protection of America without doing some
thing for it in return. Your example will be followed
by thousands ; a new and copious source of human
sustenance will be opened to a race of free and happy
people ; and to have been, though in the smallest de
gree, instrumental in the creating of this source, will
always be a subject of great satisfaction, to,
Dear Sir,
Your most obedient,
And most humble servant,
WM. COBBETT.
262. P. S. I shall to-morrow send the Second Part
of my Year's Residence to the press. I dare say it
will be ready in three weeks.
263. I conclude this chapter by observing, that a
boroughmonger hireling, who was actually fed with pap,
purchased by money paid to his father by the minister
PITT, for writing and publishing lies against the
Prince of Wales and the Duke of York, the ac-
Chap. VI.] SWEDISH TURNIPS. 165
knowledgment of the facts relating to which transaction,
I saw in the father s own hand-writmg; this hireling,
when he heard of my arrival on Long Island, called it
my LEMNOS, which allusion will, J hope, prove not to
have been wholly inapt ; for, though my life is precisely
the reverse of that of the unhappy PIIILOCTETES, and
though I do not hold the arrows of HERCULES, f do
possess arrows ; I make them felt too at a great dis
tance, and, 1 am not certain, that my arrows are not
destined to be the only means of destroying the Trojan
Boroughmongers.
<2(J4. Having introduced a Judge here by name, it
may not be amiss to say, for the information of my En
glish readers, what sort of persons these Long-Island
Judges are. They are some of them, Resident Judges,
and others Circuit Judges. They are all gentlemen of
known independent fortune, and of known excellent cha
racters and understanding. They receive a mere acknow
ledgment for their services ; and they are in all respects,
liberal gentlemen. Those with whom I have the ho
nour to be acquainted have fine and most beautiful es
tates ; and I am very sure, that what each actually ex
pends in acts of hospitality and benovolence surpasses
what such a man as Burroughs, or Richards, or Bailey,
or Gibbs, or, indeed, any of the set, expends upon every
thing, excepttaxes. Mr.JuDGELAWRENCEwhocame
to invite me to his house as soon as he heard of my land
ing on the Island, keeps a house such as 1 never either
saw or heard of before. My son JAMES went with a
message to him a little while ago, and, as he shot his way
along, he was in his shooting dress. He found a whole
house full of company, amost whom were the celebra
ted Dr. MITCHELL, and Mr. CLINTON, the Governor
of this state; but, they made him stay and dine. Here
was he, a boy, with his rough, shooting dress on, dining
with Judges, Sheriffs, and Generals, and with the Chief
Magistrate of a Commonwealth more extensive, more
populous, and forty times as rich as Scotland ; a Chief
Magistrate of very great talents, but in whom empty pride
forms no ingredient. Big wigs and long robes and su
percilious airs, are necessary only when the object is to
164 POTATOES. [P^ll.
deceive and overawe the people. I'll engage that to
supply Judge Lawrence's house that one week required
a greater sacrifice of animal life than merciful Gibbs's
kitchen demands in a year : but, then, our hearty and
liberal neighbour never deals in human sacrifices.
CHAP. VII.
POTATOES.
£65. 1 HAVE made no experiments as to this root, and
I am now about to offer my opinions as to the mode of
cultivating it. But, so much has been said and written
against me on account of my scouting the idea of this
root as being proper as food for man, I will, out of res
pect for public opinion, here state my reasons for think
ing that the Potatoe is a root, worse than useless.
266. When I published some articles upon this sub
ject, in England, I was attacked by the Irish writers
with as much fury as the Newfoundlanders attack peo
ple who speak against the Pope ; and with a great deal
less reason : for to attack a system, which teaches peo
ple to fill their bellies with fish for the good of their
souls, might appear to be dictated by malice against the
sellers of the fish ; whereas my attack upon Potatoes,
was no attack upon the sons of St. Patrick, to whom,
on the contrary, I wished a better sort of diet to be af
forded. Nevertheless, I was told, in the Irish papers,
not that I was a fool : that might have been rational;
but, when I was by these zealous Hibernians, called a
liar, a slanderer, a viper, and was reminded of all my
political sins, I could not help thinking, that, to use an
Irish Peeress's expression with regard to her Lord, there
was a little of the Potatoe sprouting out of their head.
267. These rude attacks upon me even were all
nameless, however ; and with nameless adversaries I do
not like to join battle* Of one thing I am very glad ;
Chap. VI 1.] POTATOES. \65
and that is, that the Irish do not like to live upon what
their accomplished countryman DOCTOR DRENNAN,
rails " Ireland's lazy root." There is more sound
political philosophy in that poem than in all the enormous
piles of Plowden and Musgrave. When I called it a
lazy root', when I satyrized the use of it; the Irish
seemed to think that their national honour was touched.
But, I am happy to find, that it is not taste, but neces
sity, which makes them mess-mates with the pig ; for
when they come to this country, they invariably prefer
10 their "favourite root," not only fowls, geese, ducks
and turkeys, but even the flesh of oxen, pigs and sheep !
COS. In 1815, I wrote an article, which I will here
insert, because it contains ray opinions upon this subject.
And when I have done that, I will add some calculations
as to the comparative value of an acre of wheat and an
acre of potatoes. The article w;as a letter to the Editor
of the Agricultural Magazine ; and was in the follow-
in g words :
To THE EDITOR OF THE AGRICULTURAL MAGAZINE.
SIR,
259. IN an article of your Magazine for the mouth of
September last, on the subject of my Letters to Lord
Sheffield, an article with which upon the whole, I have
reason to be very proud, you express your dissent with
me upon some matters, and particularly relative to po
tatoes. The passage to which I allude, is in these
words : "As to a former diatribe of his on Potatoes, we
" regarded it as a pleasant example of argument for
" argument's sake ; as an agreeable jumble of truth and
" of mental rambling."
270. Now, Sir, 1 do assure you, that 1 never was
more serious in my life, than when I wrote the essay, or,
rather, casually made the observations against the culti
vation and use of this ivorse than useless root. If it was
argument for argument's sake, no one, that I can recol
lect, ever did me the honour to show that the argument
was fallacious. I think it a subject of great importance ;
1 regard the praises of this root and the preference given
166 POTATOES. [Part II.
to it before corn, and even some other roots, to have
arisen from a sort of monkey-like imitation. It has be
come, of late years, the fashion to extol the virtues
of potatoes, as it has been to admire the writings of
Milton and Shakespear. God, almighty and all fore
seeing, first permitting his chief angel to be disposed to
rebel against him; his permitting him to enlist whole
squadrons of angels under his banners ; his permitting
this host to come and dispute with him the throne of
heaven ; his permitting the contest to be long, and, at
onetime, doubtful ; his permittingthe devils to bring can-
nonioto this battle in the clouds ; his permitting one devil
or angel, I forget which, to be split down the middle,
from crown to crotch, as we split a pig ; his permitting
the two halves, intestines and -all, to go slap, up together
again, and become a perfect body ; his then causing all
the devil host to be tumbled head-long down into a place
called Hell, of the local situation of which no man can
have an idea ; his causing gates (iron gates too) to be
erected to keep the devil in ; his permitting him to get
out, nevertheless, and to come and destroy the peace and
happiness of his new creation ; his causing his son to
take a pair of compasses out of a drawer, to trace the
form of the earth; all this, and indeed, the whole of
Milton's poem is such barbarous trash, so outrageously
offensive to reason and to common sense, that one is
naturally led to wonder how it can have been tolerated
by a people, amongst whom astronomy, navigation, and
chemistry are understood. But, it is Refashion to turn
up the eyes, when Paradise Lost is mentioned ; and, if
you fail herein you want taste ; you \vm\tjudgment even,
if you do not admire this absurd and ridiculous stuff, when,
if one of your relations were to write a letter in the same
strain, you would send him to a mad-house and take his
estate. It is the sacrificing of reason to fashion. And as
to the other " Divine Bard, " the case is still more pro
voking. After his ghosts, witches, sorcerers, fairies, and
monsters ; after his bombast and puns and smut, which
appear to have been not much relished by his compara
tively rude contemporaries, had had their full swing ; after
hundreds of thousands of pounds had been expended
Chap. VII.] POTATOES. 167
upon embellishing his works ; after numerous commen
tators and engravers and painters and booksellers had got
fat upon the trade ; -di'ter jubilees had been held in honour
of his memory ; at a time when there were men, otherwise
of apparently good sense, who were what was aptly enough
termed Shakespear-mad. x\t this very moment an occur
rence took place, which must have put an end, for ever, to
this national folly, had it not been kept up by infatuation
and obstinacy without parallel. Young IRELAND, I
think his name was WILLIAM, no matter from what
motive, though I never could see any harm in his motive,
and have always thought him a man most unjustly and
brutally used. No matter, however, what were the in
ducing circumstances, or the motives, he did write, and
bring forth, as being Shakespear's, some plays, a prayer^
and a love-letter. The learned men of England, Ire
land and Scotland met to examine these performances.
Some doubted, a few denied: but, the far greater part,
amongst whom were Dr. PARR, Dr. WIIARTON, and
Mr. G EORGE CHALMERS, declared in the most positive
terms, that no man but Shakespear could have written
tiiose things. There was a division ; but this division
arose more from a suspicion of some trick, than from
any thing to be urged against the merit of the writings.
The plays went so far as to be ACTED. Long lists of
subscribers appeared to the work. And, in short, it was
decided, in the most unequivocal manner, that this young
man of sixteen years of age had written so nearly like
Shakespear, that a majority of the learned and critical
classes of the nation most firmly believed the writings to
be Shakespear's ; and, there cannot be a doubt, that, if
Mr. Ireland had been able to keep his secret, they would
have passed for Shakespear's 'till the time shall come
when the whole heap of trash will, by the natural good
sense of the nation, be consigned to everlasting oblivion ;
and, indeed, as folly ever doats on a darling, it is very
likely, that these last found productions of " our im
mortal Lard" would have been regarded at his best.
Yet, in spite of all this ; in spite of what one would
have thought was sufficient to make blind people see
the fashion has been kept up ; and, what excites some-
168 POTATOES. [Part II,
thing more than ridicule and contempt, Mr. Ireland,
whose writings had been taken for Shakspear's, was,
when he made the discovery, treated as an impostor and
a cheat, and hunted down with as much rancour as if he
had written against the buying and selling of seats in Par
liament. The learned men ; the sage critics ; the Shakes-
pear-mad folks ; were all so ashamed, that they endea
voured to draw the public attention from themselves to
the young man. It was of /MS impositions that they now
talked, and not of their own folly. When the witty clown
mentioned in Don Quixote, put the nuncio's audience to
shame by pulling the real pig out from under his cloak,
we do not find that that audience were, like our learned
men, so unjust as to pursue him with reproaches and
with every act that a vindictive mind can suggest. They
perceived how foolish they had been, they hung down
their heads in silence, and, I dare say, would not easily
be led to admire the mountebank again.
127 1 . It is fashion. Sir, to which in these most striking-
instances, sense and reason have yielded ; and it is to
fashion that the potatoe owes its general cultivation and
use. If you ask me whether fashion can possibly make
a nation prefer one sort of diet to another, 1 ask you
what is it that can make a nation admire Shakespear ?
AY hat is it that can make them call him a " Divine
Bard," nine-tenths of whose works are made up of
such trash as no decent man,now-a-days, would not be
ashamed, and even afraid, to put his name to ? What
can make an audience in London sit and hear, and even
applaud, under the name of Shakespear, what they
would hoot off the stage in a moment, if it came forth
under any other name? When folly has once given the
fashion she is a very persevering dame. An American
writer, whose name is GEORGE DORSE Y, I believe, and
who has recently published a pamphlet, called, " The
UNITED STATES AND ENGLAND, &c." being a reply
to an attack on the morals and government and learning
of the Americans, in the " Quarterly Review," states,
as a matter of justification, that the People of America
sigh with delight to see the plays of Shakespear, whom
Chap. VII.] POTATOES. 169
they claim as their countryman ; an honour, if it be
disputed, of which I will make any of them a voluntary
surrender of my share. Now, Sir, what can induce the
American to sit and hear with delight the dialogues of
Falstaff and Poins, and Dame Quickly and Doll Tear-
sheet ? What can restrain them from pelting Parson
Hugh, Justice Shallow, Bardolph, and the whole crew
off the stage ? What can make them endure a ghost
cap-d-pie, a prince, who, for justice sake, pursues his
uncle and his mother, and who stabs an old gentleman
in sport, and cries out " dead for a ducat! dead !"
What can they find to " delight" them in punning
clowns, in ranting heroes, in sorcerers, ghosts, witches,
fairies, monsters, sooth-sayers, dreamers ; in incidents
out of nature, in scenes most unnecessarily bloody.
How they must be delighted at the story of Lear put
ting the question to his daughters of which loved him
most, and then dividing his kingdom among them, ac
cording to their prof essions oj love; how delighted to
see the fantastical disguise of Edgar, the treading out
Gloucester's eyes, and the trick by which it is pre
tended he was made to believe, that he had actually
fallen from the top of the cliff ! How they must be de
lighted to see the stage filled with green boughs, like a
coppice, as in Macbeth, or streaming like a slaughter
house, as in Titus Andronicus ! How the young girls in
America must be tickled with delight at the dialogues
in Troilus and Cressida, and more especially at the
pretty observations of the Nurse, 1 think it is, in Romeo
and Juliet! But, it is the same all through the work.
I know of one other, and only one other book, so obscene
as this ; and, if I were to judge from the high favour in
which these two books seem to stand, I should conclude,
that wild and improbable fiction, bad principles of mo
rality and politicks, obscurity in meaning, bombastical
langugae, forced jokes, puns, and smut, were fitted to
the minds of the people. But 1 do not thus judge. Jt
K fashion. These books are in fashion. Every one is
ashamed not to be in the fashion. It is the fashion to
extol potatoes, and to eat potatoes. Every one joins
in extolling potatoes, and all the world like potatoes,
ii
170 POTATOES. [Part II.
or pretend to like them, which is the same thing in
effect.
272. In those memorable years of wisdom, 18OO
and 1801, you can remember, I dare say, the grave
discussions in Parliament about potatoes. It was pro
posed by some one to make a law to encourage the
growth of them ; and, if the Bill did not pass, it was,
I believe, owing to the ridicule which Mr. Home
Tooke threw upon that whole system of petty legisla
tion. Will it be believed, in another century, that the
law-givers of a great nation actually passed a law to
compel people to eat pollard in their bread, and that,
too, not for the purpose of degrading or punishing, but
for the purpose of doing the said people good by add
ing to the quantity of bread in a time of scarcity ? Will
this be believed ? In every bushel of wheat there is a
certain proportion of flour y suited to the appetite and
the stomach of man ; and a certain proportion of pol
lard and bran, suited to the appetite and stomach of
pigs, cows, and sheep. But the parliament of the
years of wisdom wished to cram the whole down the
throat of man, together with the flour of other grain.
And what was to become of the pigs, cows, and sheep ?
Whence were the pork, butter, and mutton to come ?
And were not these articles of human food as well as
bread ? The truth is, that pollard, bran, and the coarser
kinds of grain, when given to cattle, make these cattle
fat; but when eaten by man make him lean and weak.
And yet this bill actually became a law !
273. That period of wisdom was also the period of
the potatoe-mania. Bulk was the only thing sought
after ; and, it is a real fact, that Pitt did suggest the
making of beer out of straw. Bulk was all that was
looked after. If the scarcity had continued a year
longer, I should not have been at all surprised, if it had
been proposed to feed the people at rack and manger.
Bui, the Potatoe ! Oh ! What a blessing to man ! LORD
GREIMVILLE, at a birth-day dinner given to the foreign
ambassadors, used not a morsel of bread, but, instead
of it, little potatoe cakes, though he had? I dare say, a
plenty of lamb, poultry, pig, &c. All of which had
Chap. V1L] POTATOES. 171
been fatted upon corn or meal, in whole or in part. Yes,
Sir, potatoes will do very well along with plenty of ani
mal foo.d, which has been fatted on something better than
potatoes. But, when you and I talk of the use of them,
we must consider them in a very different light.
274. The notion is, that potatoes are cheaper than
wheat flour. This word cheap is not quite expressive
enough, but it will do for our present purpose. I shall con
sider the cost of potatoes, in a family, compared with that
of flour. It will be best to take the simple case of the la
bouring man.
275. The price of a bushel of fine flour, at Botley, is,
at this time, 10s. The weight is 561b. The price of a
bushel of potatoes is 2s. 6d. They are just now dug up,
and are at the cheapest. A busbel of potatoes which are
measured by a large bushel, weighs about 60lb. dirt
and all, for they are sold unwashed. Allow4lb. for dirt,
and the weights are equal. Well, then, here is toiling
Dick with is four bushel of potatoes, and John with
liis bushel of flour. But, to be fair, 1 must allow, that
the relative price is not always so much in favour
of flour. Yet, I think you will agree with me, that upon
an average, rive bushels of potatoes do cost as much
as one bushel of flour. You know very well, that po
tatoes in London, sell for Id. and sometimes for 2d. a
pound: that is to say, sometimes for I/. 7s. 6d. and
sometimes for 2/. 15s. the five bushels. This is noto
rious. Every reader knows it. And did you ever hear
of a bushel of flour selling for £/. 15s. ? Monstrous to
think of ! And yet the tradesman's wife, looking nar
rowly to every halfpenny, trudges away to the potatoe
shop to get five or six pounds of this wretched root for
the purpose or saving Jtour ! She goes and gives lOd.
for ten pounds of potatoes, when she might buy five
pounds of flour with the same money 1 Before her po
tatoes come to the table, they are, even in bulk, less
than 5lb, or even 3lb. of flour made into a pudding.
Try the experiment yourself Sir, and you will soon be
able to appreciate the economy of this dame.
276. But, to return to Dick and John : the former has
got his five bushels of potatoes, and the latter his bushel
H 2
172 POTATOES. [Part II.
of flour. I shall by and by, have to observe upon the
stock that Dick must lay in, and upon the stowage that
he must have ; but, at present, we will trace these two
commodities in their way to the mouth and in their
effects upon those who eat them. Dick has got live
bushels at once, because he could have them a little
cheaper. John may have his Peck or Gal/on of flour:
for that has a fixed and indiscriminating price. It re
quires no trick in dealing, no judgment, as in the case
of the roots, which may be wet, or hollow, or hot ; flour
may be sent for by any child able to carry the quantity
wanted. However, reckoning Dick's trouble and time
nothing in getting home his five bushels of potatoes,
and supposing him to have got the right sort, a "fait
sort,0 which he can hardly fail of, indeed, since the
whole nation is now full of " fine sort/' let us now see
how he goes to work to consume them. He has a piece
of bacon upon the rack, but he must have some pota
toes too. On goes the pot, but there it may as well
hang, for we shall find it in continual requisition. For
this time the meat and roots boil together. But, what
is Dick to have for supper? Bread? No. He shall
not have bread, unless he will have thread for dinner.
Put on the pot again for supper. Up an houn before
day-light and on with the pot. Fill your luncheon-
bag, Dick : nothing is so relishing and Strengthening
out in the harvest-field, or ploughing on a bleak hill
in winter, as cold potatoe. But, be sure, Dick, to
wrap your bag well up in your clothes, during winter,
or, when you come to lunch, you may, to your great
surprise, find your food transformed into pebbles. Home
goes merry Dick, and on goes the pot again. Thus
1095 times in a year Dick's pot must boil. This is,
at least, a thousand times oftener than with a bread
and meat diet. Once a week baking and once a week
boiling, is as much as a farm house used to require.
There must be some fuel consumed in winter for warmth.
But here are, at the least, 500 fires to be made for the
sake of these potatoes, and, at a penny a fire, the
amount "is more than would purchase four bushels of
flour, which would make 288!b. of bread, which at
Chap. VII.J POTATOES. 173
7lb. of bread a da/ ,would keep John's family in
bread for 41 days out of the 365. This I state as a fact
challenging contradiction, that, exclusive of the extra
hibour, occasioned by the cookery of. potatoes, the
fuel required, in a year, for a bread diet, would cost,
in any part of the kingdom, more than would keep a
family, even in baker's bread for 41 days in a year, at
the rate of 7lb. of bread a day.
'277. John, on the contrary, lies and sleeps on Sun
day morning 'till about 7 o'clock. He then gets a bit
of bread and meat, or cheese, if he has either. The
mill gives him his bushel of flour in a few minutes.
His wife has baked during the week. He has a pud
ding on Sunday, and another batch of bread, before
the next Sunday. The moment he is up, he is off to
his stable or, the field, or the coppice. His breakfast
and luncheon are in his bag. In spite of frost he
finds them safe and sound. They give him heart, and
enable him to go through the day. His 561b. of flour,
with the aid of Qd. in yeast, bring him 72lb. of bread;
while, after the dirt and peelings and waste are de
ducted, it is very doubtful whether Dick's SOOlb. of
potatoes bring SOOlb. of even this watery diet to
his lips. It is notorious, that in a pound of clean pota
toes there are 1 1 ounces of water, half an ounce of
earthy matter, an ounce of fibrous and strawey stuff,
and I know not what besides. The water can do Dick
no good, but he must swallow these 1 1 ounces of water
in every pound of potatoes. How far earth and straw
may tend to fatten or strengthen cunning Dick, 1 do
not know ; but, at any rate, it is certain that while he
is eating as much of potatoe as is equal in nutriment to
lib. of bread, he must swallow about 14 oz. of water,
earth, straw, Sec. for, down they must go altogether,
like the Parliament's bread in the years of wisdom,
1800 and 1801. But, suppose every pound of pota
toes to bring into Dick's stomach a 6th part in nutri
tious matter, including in the gross pound all the dirt,
eyes, peeling, and other inevitable waste. Divide his
gross SOOlbs. by 6, and you will find him with 50lb. of
nutritious matter for the same sum that John has laid out
174 POTATOES. [Part II.
in 72lb. of nutritious matter, besides the price of
£88 Ib. of bread in a year, which Dick lays out in
extra fuel for the eternal boilings of his pot. Is it any
wonder that his cheeks are like two bits of loose lea
ther, while he is pot-bellied, and weak as a cat ? In
order to get half a pound of nutritious matter into him,
he must swallow about 50 ounces of water, earth,
and straw. Without ruminating faculties how is he to
bear this cramming ?
£78. But Dick's disadvantages do not stop here.
He must lay in his store at the beginning of winter, or
he must buy through the nose. And, where is he to
find stowage ? He has no caves. He may pie them
in the garden, if he has one ; but, he must not open
the pie in frosty weather. It as a fact not to be dis
puted, that a full tenth of the potatoe crop is destroyed
upon an average of years, by the frost. His wife, or
stout daughter, cannot go out to work to help to earn
the means of buying potatoes. She must stay at home
to boil the pot, the everlasting pot ! There is no such
thing as a cold dinner. No such thing as women sit
ting down on a hay-cock, or a shock of wheat, to their
dinner, ready to jump up at the approach of the shower.
Home they must tramp, if it be three miles, to the fire
that ceaseth not, and the pot as black as Satan. No
wonder, that in the brightest and busiest seasons of the
year, you see from every cottage door, staring out at
you, as you pass, a smokey-capped, greasy-heeled
woman. The pot, which keeps her at home, also gives
her the colour of the chimney, while long inactivity
swells her heels.
279. Now, Sir, 1 am quite serious in these my rea
sons against the use of this root, as food for man. As
food for other animals, in proportion to its cost, I know
it to be the worst of all roots that I know any tiling of ;
but that is another question. 1 have here been speak
ing of it as food for man ; and, if it be more expensive
than flour to the labourer in the country, who, at any
rate, can stow it in pies, what must it be to tradesmen's
and artizan's families in towns, who can lay in no store,
Chap. VII.] POTATOES. 175
and who must buy by the ten pound or quarter of a hun
dred at a time ? When broad-faced Mrs. Wilkins tells
Mrs. Tomkins, that, so that she has " a potatoe" for her
dinner, she does not care a farthing for bread, I only
laugh, knowing that she will twist down a half pound of
beef \\i\\\ her " potatoe/'and has twisted down half a pound
of buttered toast in the morning, and means to do the
same at tea time without prejudice to her supper and grog.
But when Mrs. Tomkins gravely answered, " Yes,
" Ma'am, there is nothing like a potatoe ; it is such a
" saving in a family," I really should not be very much
out of humour to seethe tete-a-tete broken up by the
application of a broom-stick.
280. However, Sir, I am talking to you now, and,
as I am not aware that there can be any impropriety m
it, I now call upon you to show, that I am really wrong
in my notions upon this subject ; and this, I think you
are in some sort bound to do, seeing that you have, in
a public manner, condemned them.
281. But, there remains a very important part of the
subject yet undiscussed. For, though you should
be satisfied, that 300 Ib. of potatoes are not, taking
every thing into consideration, more than equal to about
30lb. of flour, you may be of opinion, that the dispro
portion in the bulk of the crops is, in favour of potatoes,
more than sufficient to compensate for this. 1 think
this is already clearly enough settled by the relative
prices of the contending commodities ; for, if the quan
tity of produce was on the side of potatoes, their price
would be in proportion.
282. 1 have heard of enormous crops of potatoes; as
high, I believe, as 10 tons grow upon an acre. I have
heard of 14 sacks of wheat upon an acre. 1 never saw
above 10 grow upon an acre. The average crop of
wheat is about 24 bushels, in this part of England, and
the average crop of potatoes about 6 tons. The weight
of the wheat l,440lb. and that of the potatoes 13,440lb.
Now, then, if I am right in what has been said above,
this bulk of potatoes barely keeps pace with that of the
wheat ; for, if a bushel of wheat does not make 561b.
of flour, it weighs 60lb. and leaves pollard and bran
370 POTATOES. [Part 11.
to make up the deficiency. Then as to tlie cost : the
ground must be equally good. The seed is equally ex
pensive. But the potatoes must be cultivated during
their growth. The expense of digging and cartage and
stowage is not less than 2/. an acre at present prices.
The expense of reaping, housing, and threshing is, at
present prices, 10s. less. The potatoes leave no straw,
the wheat leaves straw, stubble, and gleanings for pigs.
The straw is worth, at least 3l. an acre, at present
prices. It is, besides absolutely necessary. It litters,
in conjunction with other straw, all sorts of cattle ; it
sometimes helps to feed them ; it covers half the build
ings in the kingdom ; and makes no small part of the
people's beds. The potatoe is a robber in all manner of
ways. It largely takes from the farm -yard, and returns
little or nothing to it; it robs the land more than any other
plant or root, it robs the eaters of their time, their fuel,
and their health; and, 1 agree fully with Mo MSI EUR
TISSOT, that it robs them of their mental powers.
283. I do not deny, that it is a pleasant enough thing
to assist in sending down lusty Mrs,Wilkins's good half-
pound of fat roast-beef. Two or three ounces of water,
earth, and straw, can do her no harm ; but when I see
a poor, little, pale-faced, life-less, pot-bellied boy peep
ing out at a cottage-door, where I ought to meet with
health and vigour, 1 cannot help cursing the fashion,
which has given such general use to this root, as food
for man. However, I must say, that the chief ground of
my antipathy to this root is, that it tends to debase the
common people, as every thing does, which brings their
mode of living to be nearer that of cattle. The man
and his pig, in the potatoe system, live pretty much
upon the same diet, and eat nearly in the same manner,
and out of nearly the same utensil. The same eternajly-
boiling pot cooks their common mess. Man being
master, sits at the first table ; but, if his fellow-feeder
comes after him, he will not fatten, though he w ill live
upon the same diet. Mr. CUR\VEN found potatoes to
supply the place of hay, being first well cooked ; but,
they did not supply the place of oats ; and yet fashion
has made people believe, that they are capable of sup-
Chap. VII.] POTATOES. 177
plying the place of bread I! It is notorious, that nothing
will fatten on potatoes alone. Carrots, parsnips, cab
bages, will in time, fatten sheep and oxen, and, some
of them pigs ; but upon potatoes alone, no animal that
I ever heard of will fatten. Arid yet, the greater part,
and, indeed, all the other roots and plants here men
tioned, will yield, upon ground of the same quality,
three or four times as heavy a crop as potatoes, and will,
too, for a long while, set the frosts at defiance.
284. If, Sir, you do me the honour to read this letter,
I shall have taken up a good deal of your time ; but the
subject is one of much importance in rural economy,
and therefore, cannot be wholly uninteresting to you. I
will not assume the sham modesty to suppose, that my
manner of treating it makes me unworthy of an answer ;
and, I must confess, that I shall be disappointed unless
you make a serious attempt to prove to me, that I am
in error.
I am, Sir,
Your most obedient,
And most humble Servant,
WM. COBBETT.
285. Now, observe, I never received any answer to
this. Much abuse. New torrents of abuse; and, in
language still more venomous than the former ; for now
the Milton and Shakespear men, the critical Parsons,
took up the pen ; and when you have an angry Priest
for adversary, it is not the common viper, but the rattle
snake that you have to guard against. However, as no
one put his name to what he wrote, my remarks went on
producing their effect ; and a very considerable effect
they had.
286. About the same time Mr. TIMOTHY BROWN
of Peckham Lodge, who is one of the most understand
ing and most worthy men I ever had the honour to be
acquainted with, furnished me with the following coinr-
parative estimate relative to wheat and potatoes.
H 5
178 POTATOES. [Part II.
PRODUCE OF AN ACRE OF WHEAT.
287. Forty bushels is a good crop ; but from fifty to
sixty may be grown.
Pounds of Wheat.
40 bushels 60 pounds a bushel 2,400
45f pounds of flour to each
bushels of wheat 1 820
13 pounds of offal to each
bushel ,520
Waste 60
2,400
The worth of offal is about
that of one bushel of
flour ; and the worth of
straw, 2 tons, each worth
2/. is equal to six bushels
of flour 31S|
Pounds of Flour.
So that the total yield, in flour, is 2,139
Pounds of Bread,
Which will make of bread, at die
rate of 9 pounds of bread from
7 pounds of flour 2,739{
PRODUCE OF AN ACRE OF POTATOES.
288. Seven tons, or 350 bushels, is a good crop ;
but ten ions, or 500 bushels may be grown.
Pounds of Potatoes.
Ten tons, or 22,400
Pounds of Flour.
Ten pounds of Potatoes contain one
pound of flour 2,240
Pounds of Bread.
Which would, if it were possible to
exti n ct the flour and get it in a dry
state make of bread 2,880
Chap. VII. J POTATOES. 179
289. Thus, then, the nutritious contents of the Pota*-
toes surpass that of the wheat but by a few pounds ; but
to get at those contents, unaccompanied with nine times
their weight in earth, straw, and water, is impossible.
Nine pounds of earth, straw and water must, then, be
swallowed, in order to get at the one pound of flour !
290. I beg to be understood as saying nothing against
the cultivation of potatoes in any place, or near any
place where there are people willing to consume them
at half a dollar a bushel, when wheat is two dollars a
bushel. If any one will buy dirt to eat, and if one can
get dirt to him with more profit than one can get wheat
to him, let us supply him with dirt by all means. It is
his taste to eat dirt ; and, if his ta^te have nothing im
moral in it, let him, in the name of all thatis ridiculous,
follow his taste. I know a prime Minister, who picks
his nose and regales himself with the contents. I
solemly declare this to be true. I have witnessed the
worse than beastly act scores of times ; and yet, I do
not know, that he is much more of a beast than the
greater part of his associates. Yet, if this were all; if
he were chargeable with nothing but this ; if he would
confine his swallow to this, 1 do not know that the
nation would have any right to interfere between his
nostrils and his gullet.
291. Nor do I say, that it is filthy to eat potatoes. I
do not ridicule the using of them as sauce. \\ hat I
laugh at is, the idea of the use of them being a saving;
of their going farther than bread; of the cultivation of
them iii lieu of wheat adding to the human sustenance
of a country. This is what I laugh at; and laugh I
must as long as I have the above estimate before me.
292. As food for cattle, sheep or hogs, this is the
worst of all the green and root crops ; but, of this I
have said enough before ; and therefore, I now dismiss
the Potatoe with the hope, that I shall never again
feave to write the word; or to see the
[ 180 j
CHAP. VIII.
COWS, SHEEP, HOGS, AND POULTRY.
293. Cows. — With respect to cows, need we any other
facts than those of Mr. BYRD to prove how advantageous
the Swedish turnip culture must be to those who keep
cows in order to make butter and cheese ? The greens
come to supply the place of grass, and to add a month
to the feeding on green food. They come just at the
time when cows, in this country, are let go dry. It is too
hard work to squeeze butter out of straw and corn stalks ;
and, if you could get it out, it would not, pound for
pound, be nearly so good as lard, though it would be full
as white. To give cows^/fae hay no man thinks of; and,
therefore, dry they must, be from November until March,
though a good pk>ce of cabbages added to the turnip
greens would keep them on in milk to their calving time ;
or, 'till within a month of it at any rate. The/ bulb of
Swedish turnips are too valuable to give to cows ; but
the cabbages, which are so easily raised, may be made
subservient to their use.
294. Sheep. — In the First Part I have said how J fed
my sheep upon Swedish turnips. I have now only to add,
that, in the case of early lambs for market, cabbages,
and especially savoys, in February and March, would
be excellent for the ewes. Sheep love green. In a tur
nip field, they never touch the bulb, till every bit of green
is eaten. I would, therefore, for this purpose, have some
cabbages, and, if possible, of the savoy kind.
£9<5. Hogs. — This is the main object, when we talk
of raising green and root crops, no matter how near to or
how far from the spot where the produce of the farm is to
be consumed. For, pound for pound, the hog is the most
valuable animal ; and, whether fresh or salted, is the most
easily conveyed. Swedish turnips or cabbagCvS or Mangel
Wurzel \\i\\fatten an ox ; but, that which would, in four
or five months, fatten the ox, would keep fifteen August
Pigs from the grass going to the grass coming, on Long
Chap. VIII."] Cows, SHEEP, HOGS, See. 181
Island. Look at their worth in June, and compare it
with the few dollars that you have got by fatting the ox ;
and look also at the manure in the two cases. A farmer,
on this Island fatted two oxen last winter upon corn. He
told me, after he had sold them, that, if he had given the
oxen away, and sold the corn, he should have had
more money in his pocket. But, if he had kept, through
the winter, four or five summer pigs upon this corn, would
they have eaten all his corn to no purpose? I am aware,
that pigs get something at an ox-stable door ; but what
a process is this !
(2y(). My hogs are -iow living wholly upon Sivedis/t
turnip greens, and, though I have taken no particular
pains about the matter, they look very well, and, for store
hogs and sows, are as fat as I wish them to be. My Eng
lish hogs are sleek, and lit for fresh pork ; and all the hogs
not only eat the greens but do well upon them. But, ob
serve, I give them]plenti/ three times a day. In the fore
noon we get a good wagon load, and that is for three
meals. This is a main thing, thisplenty; and, the farmer
must see to it with his OWN EY ES ; for workmen are
all starversy except of themselves. 1 never had a man in
my life, who would not starve a hog, if 1 would let him ;
that is to say, if the food was to be got by some labour.
You must, therefore, see to this ; or, you do not try the
thing at all.
297. Turnip greens are, however, by no means equal
to cabbages, or even to cabbage leaves. The cabbage?
and even the leaf, is the fruit of the plant ; which is not
the case with the Turnip green. Therefore the latter
must, especially when they follow summer cabbages, be
giveti in greater proportionate quantities.
£98. As to the bulb of the Swedish turnip, I have said
enough, in the First Part, as food for hogs ; and I should
not have mentioned the matter again, had I not been visit
ed by two gentlemen, who came on purpose (from a great
distance) to see, whether hogs really would eat Swedish
turnips ! Let not the English farmers laugh at this ; let
them not imagine that the American farmers are a set of
simpletons on this account: for, only about thirty years
ago, the English farmers would, not, indeed, have gone.a
182 Cows, SHEEP, HOGS, 8cc. [Part II.
great distance to ascertain the fact, but would have said at
once, that the thing ivas false. It is not more than about
four hundred years since the Londoners were wholly sup
plied with cabbages, spinage, turnips, carrots, and all
sorts of garden stuff from Flanders. And now, I suppose,
that one single parish in Kent grows more garden stuff
than all Flanders. The first settlers came to America
long and long before even the white turnip made its ap
pearance in the field* in England. The successors of the
first settlers trod in the foot-steps of their fathers. The
communication with England did not bring out good
English farmers. Books made little impression unac
companied with actual experiments on the spot. It was
reserved for the Borough-mongers, armed with gags, hal
ters, and axes, to drive from England experience and
public spirit sufficient to introduce the culture of the
green and root crops to the fields of America.
299. The first gentleman, who came to see whether
hogs would eat Swedish turnips, saw some turnips tossed
down on the grass to the hogs which were eating sweet little
loaved cabbages. However, they eat the turnips too before
they left off. The second, who came on the afternoon of
the same day, saw the hogs eat some bulbs chopped up.
The hogs were pretty hungry, and the quantity of turnips
small, and there was such a shoving and pushing about
amongst the hogs to snap up the bits, that the gentleman
observed, that they " liked them as well as corn.1'
300. In paragraph 134 I related a fact of a neigh
bour of mine in Hampshire having given his Swedish
turnips after they had borne seed, to some lean pigs,
and had, with that food, made them fit for fresh pork,
and sold them as such. A gentleman from South Caro
lina was here in July last, and I brought some of mine
which had then borne seed. They were perfectly sound.
The hogs ate them as well as if they had not borne seed.
We boiled some in the kitchen for dinner ; and they
appeared as good as those eaten in the winter. This
shews clearly how well this root keeps.
301. Now, these facts being, I hope, undoubted, is it
not surprising, that, in many parts of this fine country,
it is the rule to keep only one pig for every cow ! The
Chap. VIII.] Cows, SHEEP, HOGS, &c. 183
cow seems as necessary to the pig as the pig's mouth is
necessary to his carcass. There are, for instance, six
cows ; therefore, when they begin to give milk in the
spring, six pigs are set on upon the milk, which is given
them with a suitable proportion of pot liquor (a meat pot)
and of rye, or Indian, meal, making a diet far superior
to that of the families of labouring men in England.
Thus the pigs go on 'till the time when the cows (for want
of moist food) become dry. Then the pigs are shut up,
and have the new sweet Indian corn heaped into their
stye 'till they are quite fat, being half fat, mind, all the
summer long, as they run barking and capering about.
Sometimes they turn sulky, however, and will not eat
enough of the corn ; and well they may, seeing that they
are deprived of their milk. Take a child from its pap all
at once, and you will find, that it will not for a long while,
relish its new diet. What a system ! but if it must be
persevered in, there might, it appears to me, be a great
improvement made even in it ; for, the labour of milking
and of the subsequent operations, all being performed by
women, is of great inconvenience. Better let each pig suck
its adopted mother at once, which would save a monstrous
deal of labour, and prevent all possibility of waste. There
would be no slopping about ; and, which is a prime con
sideration in a dairy system, there would be clean milking;
for, ithas been proved by DOCTOR ANDERSON, that the
last drop is four teen times as good as the first drop ; and
I will engage, that the grunting child of the lowing mother
would have that last drop twenty times a day, or would
pull the udder from her body. I can imagine but one
difficulty that can present itself to the mind of any one
disposed to adopt this improvement ; and that is, the
teaching of the pig to suck the cow. This will appear
a difficulty to those only who think unjustly of the un
derstandings of pigs : and, for their encouragement, I
beg leave to refer them to DANIEL'S RURAL SPORTS,
where they will find, that, in Hampshire, Sir John
Mildmay's gamekeeper, Toomer, taught a sow to point
at patridges and other game ; to quarter her ground
like a pointer, to back the pointers, when she hunted
with them, and to be, in all respects, the most docile
184 Cows, SHEEP, HOGS, &c. [Part II.
pointer of the finest nose. This fact is true beyond all
doubt. It is known to many men now alive. Judge,
then, how easily a pig might be taught to milk a cow,
and what a " saving of labour " this would produce !
302. It is strange what comfort men derive even from
the deceptions which they practise upon themselves.
The milk and fat pot-liquor and meal are, when put
together, called, in Long Island, swill. The word comes
from the farm-house in England, but it has a new
meaning attached to it. There, it means the mere
wash ; the mere drink given to store hogs. But, here
it means rich fatting food. " There, friend Cobbett,"
said a gentleman to me, as we looked at his pigs in
September last, " do thy English pigs look better than
these ?" " No," said I, " but what do these Jive on ?"
He said he had given them all summer, "nothing but
" swill." " Aye" said I, " but what is swill ?" it was
for six pigs, nothing at all, except the milk of six vert/
fine cows, with a bin of shorts and meal always in re
quisition, and with the daily supply of liquor from a pot
and a spit, that boils and turns without counting the cost.
303. This is very well for those who do not care a
straw, whether their pork cost them seven cents a pound
or half a dollar a pound ; and, I like to see even the
waste; because it is a proof of the easy and happy life
of the farmer. But, when we are talking of profitable
agriculture we must examine this swill tub, and see
what it contains. To keep pigs to a profit, you must
carry them on to their failing time at little expense.
Milk comes from all the grass you grow and almost the
whole of the dry fodder. Five or six cows will sweep
a pretty good farm as clean as the turnpike road. Pigs,
till well weanedmust be kept upon good food. My pigs
will always be fit to go out of the weaning stye at three
months old. The common pigs require four months.
Then out they go never to be fed again, except on grass,
greens, or roots, till they arrive at the age to be fattened.
If they will not keep themselves in growing order upon
this food, it is better to shoot them at once. But I never
yet saw a hog that would not. The difference between
the good sort and the bad sort is, that the former will
Chap. VIIL] Cows, SHEEP, HOGS, Sec. 18,3
always be fat enough for fresh pork, and the latter will
not ; and that, in the fatting, the former will not require
(weight for weight of animal) more than half the food
that the latter will to make them equally fat.
,304. Out of the milk and meal system another mon-
slrous evil arises. It is seldom that the hogs come to a
proper age before they are killed. A hog has not got his
growth till he is full tivo years old. But, who will, or can
have the patience to see a hog eating Long-Island swill
for two years ! When a hog is only I <3 or 1() months old
he will lay on two pounds of fat for every one pound
that will, out of the same quantity of food, be laid on
by an eight or ten months' pig. Is it not thus with every
animal 'I A stout boy will be like a herring upon the
very food that would make his father fat, or kill him.
However, this fact is too notorious to be insisted on.
305. Then, the young meat is not so nutritious as the
old. Steer-beef is not nearly so good as ox-beef.
Young wether mutton bears the same proportion of
inferiority to old wether mutton. And, what reason is
there, that the principle should not hold good as to
hog-meat? In VVrestphalia, where the line hams are
made, the hogs are never killed under three years old.
In France, where I saw the fattest pork I ever saw,
they keep their fatting hogs to the same age. In France
and Germany, the people do not eat the hog, as hog :
they use the hog to put fat into other sorts of meat.
They make holes in beet, mutton, veal, turkeys and
fowls, and, with a tin tube, draw in bits of fat hog,
which they call lard, and, as it is all fat, henee comes
it that we call the inside fat of a hog, lard. Their beef
and mutton and veal would be very poor stuff without
the aid of the hog; but, with that aid, they make them
all exceedingly good. Hence it is, that they are in
duced to keep their hogs till they have quite done grow
ing ; and, though their sort of hogs is the very worst
1 ever saw, their hog meat was the very fattest. The
common weight in Normandy and Brittany is from six
to eight hundred pounds. But, the poor fellows there
do not slaughter away as the farmers do here, ten or a
dozen hogs at a time, so that the sight makes one won-
J8G Cows, SHEEP, HOGS, 5cc. [Part II.
der whence are to come the mouths to eat the meat.
In France du lard is a thing to smell to, not to eat.
I like the eating far better than the smelling system ;
but when we are talking about farming for gain, we
ought to inquire how any given weight of meat can be
obtained at the cheapest rate. A hog in his third year,
would, on the American plan, suck half a dairy of cows
perhaps; but then, mind, he would, upon a third part
of the fatting food, weigh down four Long Island
"shuts," the average weight of which is about one h un-
dred and fjty pounds.
306. A hog, upon rich food, will be much bigger at
the end of a year, than a hog upon good growing diet ;
but, he will not be bigger at the end of two years, and
especially at the end of three years. His size is not
to be forced on, any more than that of a child, beyond
a certain point.
307. For these reasons, if I were settled as a fanner, I
would let my hogs have time to come to their size. Some
sorts come to it at an earlier period, and this is amongst
the good qualities of my English hogs ; but, to do the
thing well, even they ought to have two years to grow in.
308. The reader will think, that I shall never cease
talking about hogs ; but, I have now done, only I will
add, that, in keeping hogs in a growing state, we must
never forget their lodging ! A few boards, flung care
lessly over a couple of rails, and no litter beneath, is
not the sort of bed for a hog. A place of suitable size,
large rather than small, well sheltered on every side,
covered with a roof that lets in no wet or snow. No
opening, except a door way big enough for a hog to go
in ; and the floor constantly well bedded with leaves of
trees, dry, or, which is the best thing, and what a hog
deserves, plenty of clean straw. AVhen I make up my
hog's lodging place for winter, I look well at it, and
consider, whether, upon a pinch, I could, for once and
away, make shift to lodge in it myself. If I shiver at
the thought, the place is not good enough for my hogs.
It is not in the nature of a hog to sleep in the cold.
Look at them. You will see them, if they have the
means, cover themselves over for the night. This is
Chap. VIII.] Cows, SHEEP, HOGS, Sec. 187
what is done by neither horse, cow, sheep, dog nor cat.
And this should admonish us to provide hogs with warm
and comfortable lodging. Their sagacity in providing
against cold in the night, when they have it in their power
to make such provision, is quite wonderful. You see them
looking about for the warmest spot ; then they go to work
raking up the litterso as to break the wind off; and when
they have done their best, they lie down. 1 had a sow that
had some pigs running about with her in April last. There
was a place open to her on each side of the barn. One
faced the east and the other the west ; and, I observed,
that she sometimes took to one side and sometimes to the
other. One evening her pigs had gone to bed on the east
side. She \vas out eating till it began to grow dusk. I
saw her go into her pigs, and was surprised to see her
come out again ; and therefore, looked a little to see
what she was after. There was a high heap of dung in
the front of the barn to the south. She walked up to
the top of it, raised her nose, turned it very slowly, two
or three times, from the north-east to the north-west,
and back again, and at last, it settled about south-east
for a little bit, She then came back, marched away
very hastily to her pigs, roused them up in a great bus
tle, and a\vay she trampled with them at her heels to
the place on the west side of the barn. There was so
little wind, that I could not tell which way it blew, till
I took up some leaves and tossed them in the air. I
then found, that it came from the precise point which
her nose had settled at. And thus was I convinced, that
she had come out to ascertain which way the wind came,
and finding it likely to make her young ones cold in
the night, she had gone and called them up, though it
was nearly dark, and taken them off to a more comfort
able birth. Was this an instinctive, or was it a rea
soning proceeding ? At any rate, let us not treat such
animals as if they were stocks and stones.
309. POULTRY. — I merely mean to observe, as to
poultry, that they must be kept away from turnips and
cabbages, especially in the early part of the growth of
these plants. When turnips are an inch or two high
a good large flock of turkeys will destroy an acre in
IBB PRICE 01- LAND, LABOUR, [Part II.
half a day, in four feet rows. Ducks and geese will do
the same. Fowls will do great mischief. If these
things cannot be kept out of the field, the crop must be
abandoned, or the poultry killed, it is true, indeed,
that it is only near the house that poultry plague you
much: but, it is equally true, that the best and rich
est land is precisely that which is near the house, and
this, on every account, whether of produce or appli
cation, is the very land where you ought to have these
crops.
CHAP, IX.
FRIGES OF LAND, LABOUR, FOOD AND RAIMENT.
310. Land is of various prices, of course. But, as
I am, in this Chapter, addressing myself to English
Farmers, I am not speaking of the price either of land
in the wildernesses, or of land in the immediate vicinage
of great cities. The wilderness price is two or three
dollars an acre : the city price four or five hundred.
The land at the same distance from New York that
Chelsea is from London, is of higher price than the
land at Chelsea. The surprising growth of these cities,
and the brilliant prospect before them, give value to
every thing that is situated in or near them.
311. It is my intention, however, to speak only of
farming land. This, too, is, of course, affected in its
value by the circumstance of distance from market ;
but, the reader will make his own calculations as to
this matter. A farm, then, on this Island, any where
not nearer than thirty miles off, and not more distant
than sixty miles from New York, with a good farm
house, barn, stables, sheds, and styes ; the land fenced
into fields with posts and rails, the \vood-land being in
the proportion of one to ten of the arable land, and there
being on the farm a pretty good orchard ; such a farm,
if the land be in a good state , and of an average
Chap. IX.] FOOD AND RAIMENT. 189
quality, is worth sixty dollars an acre, or thirteen pounds
sterling ; of course, a farm of a hundred acres would
cost one thousand three hundred pounds. The rich
lands on the necks and bays, where there are meadow's
and surprisingly productive orchards, and where there is
water carriage, are worth, in some cases, three times
this price. But, what I have said will be sufficient to
enable the reader to form a pretty correct judgment on
the subject. In New Jersey, in Pennsylvania, every
where the price differs with the circumstances of water
carriage, quality of land, and distance from market.
31C2. VV hen 1 say a good farm-house, I mean a house
a great deal better than the general run of farm-houses
in England. More neatly finished on the inside. More
in a par lour sort of style ; though round about the house,
things do not look so neat and tight as in England.
Even in Pennsylvania, and amongst the Quakers too,
there is a sort of out-of-doors slovenliness, w'hich is never
hardly seen in England. You see bits of wood, timber,
boards, chips, lying about here and there, and pigs and
cattle trampling about in a sort of confusion, which
would make an English farmer fret himself to death ;
but which is here seen with great placidness. The out
buildings, except the barns, and except in the finest
counties of Pennsylvania, are not so numerous, or so
capacious, as in England, in proportion to the size of
the farms. The reason is, that the weather. is so dry.
Cattle need not covering a twentieth part so much as in
England, except hogs, who must be warm as well as
dry. However, these share with the rest, and very
fittle covering they get.
313. Labour is the great article of expense upon a
farm ; yet it is not nearly so great as in England, in pro
portion to the amount of the produce of a farm, espe
cially if the poor-rates be, in both cases, included.
However, speaking of the positive wages, a good farm-
labourer has twenty-five pounds sterling a-uear and his
board and lodging; and a good day-labourer has, upon
an average, a dollar a day. A woman servant, in a
farm-honse, has from forty to fifty dollars a year, or eleven
founds sterling. These are the average of the wages
PRICES OF LAND, LABOUR, [Part II.
throughout the country. But, then, mind, the farmer
has nothing (for really, it is not worth mentioning) to
pay in poor-rates; which in England, must always be
added to the wages that a farmer pays ; and sometimes
they far exceed the wages.
314. It is too, of importance to know, what sort of
labourers these Americans are ; for though a labourer
is a labourer, still there is some difference in them ; and
these Americans are the best that I ever saw. They
mow/bwr acres of oats, wheat, rye, or barley in a day,
and, with a cradle, lay it so smooth in the swarths, that it
is tied up in sheaths with the greatest neatness and ease.
They mow two acres and a half of grass in a day, and
they do the work well. And the crops, upon an ave
rage, are all, except the wheat, as heavy as in England.
The English farmer will want nothing more than these
facts to convince him that the labour, after all, is not so
very dear.
315. The cause of these performances, so far beyond
those in England, is first, the men are tall and well
built; they are bony rather than fleshy; and they live,
as to food, as well as man can live. And, secondly,
they have been educated to do much in a day. The
farmer here generally is at the head of his " boys," as
they, in the kind language of the country, are called.
Here is the best of examples. My old and beloved
friend, Mr. JAMES PAUL, used, at the age of nearly
sixty to go at the head of his mowers, though his fine
farm was his own, and though he might, in other re
spects, be called a rich man j and, I have heard, that
Mr. ELI AS HICKS, the famous Quaker Preacher,
who lives about nine miles from this spot, has this year,
at seventy years of age, cradled down four acres of rye
in a day. I wish some of the preachers of other de
scriptions, especially our fat parsons in England, would
think a little of this, and would betake themselves to
" work with their hands the things which be good, that
" they may have to give to him who needeth," and not
to go on any longer gormandizing and swilling upon the
labour of those who need,
316. Besides the great quantity of work performed
Chap. IX.] FOOD AND RAIMENT. iyi
by the American labourer, his skill, the versatility or"
his talent, is a great thing. Every man can use an axe,
a saio, and a hammer. Scarcely one who cannot do
any job at rough carpentering, and mend a plough or a
wagon. Very few indeed, who cannot kill and dress
pigs and sheep, and many of them oxen and calves.
Every farmer is a neat butcher; a butcher for market;
and of course, " the boys" must learn. This is a great
convenience. It makes you so independent as to a main
part of the means of housekeeping. All are plough
men. In short, a good labourer here can do any thing
that is to be done upon a farm.
31?. The operations necessary in miniature cultiva
tion they are very awkward at. The gardens are plough
ed in general. An American labourer uses a spade in
very awkward manner. They poke the earth about as if
they had no eyes ; and toil and muck themselves half
to death to dig as much ground in a day as a Surrey man
would (Jig in about an hour of hard work. Banking,
hedging, they know nothing about. They have no
idea of the use of a bill-hook) which is so adroitly used
in the coppices of Hampshire and Sussex. An axe is
their tool, and with that tool, as cutting down trees or
cutting them up, they will do ten times as much in a
day as any other men that I ever saw. Set one of
these men on upon a wood of timber trees, and his
.slaughter will astonish you. A neighbour of mine tells
a story of an Irishman, who promised he could do any
thing, and whom,"therefore,jto begin with, the employer
sent into the wood to cut down a load of wood to burn.
He staid a long while away with the team, and the farn.-
er went to him fearing some accident had happened.
" What are you about all this time ?" said the farmer.
The man was hacking away at a hickory tree, but
had not got it half down ; and that was all he had
done. An American, black or white, would have
had half a dozen trees cut down, cut up into lengths,
put upon the carriage, and brought home, in the time.
818. So that our men, who come from England,
must not expect, that, in these common labours of the
country they are to surpass, or even equal, these
192 PRICES OF LAND, LABOUR, [Part II.
" Yankees/' who, of all men that I ever saw, are the
most active and the most hardy. They skip over a
fence like a greyhound. They will catch you a pig in
an open field by racing him down ; and they are afraid
of nothing. This was the sort of stuff that filled the
frigates of DECATUR, HULL, and BRAINERIDGE. No
wonder that they triumphed when opposed to poor
pressed creatures, worn out by length of service and ill-
usage, and encouraged by no hope of fair-play. My
LORD COCHRANE said, in his place in parliament, that
it would be so; and so it was. Poor Cashman, that
brave Irishman, with his dying breath, accused the
government and the merchants of England of withhold
ing from him his pittance of prize money! Ought
not such a vile, robbing, murderous system to be
destroyed '?
319. Of the same active, hardy, and brave stuff, too,
was composed the army of JACKSON, who drove the in
vaders into the Gulf of Mexico, and who would have
driven into the same Gulf, the army of Waterloo, and
the heroic gentleman, too, who lent his hand to the
murder of Marshal Ney. This is the stuff that stands
between the rascals, called the Holy Alliance, and the
slavery of the whole civilized world. This is the stuff
that gives us Englishmen an asylum; that gives us time
to breathe ; that enables us to deal our tyrants blows
which, without the existence of this stuff, they never
would receive. This America, this scene of happiness
under a free government, is the beam in the eye, the thorn
in the side, the worm in the vitals, of every despot
upon the face of the earth.
320. An American labourer is not regulated, as to
time, fey clocks and watches. The sun, who seldom
hides his face, tells him when to begin in the morning
and when to leave off at night. He has a dollar, a
whole dollar for his work ; but then it is the work of a
-ifhole day. Here is no dispute about hours. " Hours
u were made for slaves/' is an old saying ; and, really,
they seem here to act upon it as a practical maxim.
This is a great thing in agricultural affairs. It pre
vents so many disputes. It removes so great a cause
Chap. IX.] FOOD AND RAIMENT. 193
of disagreement. The American labourers, like the
tavern keepers, are never servile, but always civil.
Neither boobishness\\or meanness mark their character.
They never creep and fawn, and are never rude. Em
ployed about your house as day-labourers, they never
come to interlope for victuals or drink. They have no
idea of such a thing : their pride would restrain them
if their plenty did not ; and, thus would it be with all
labourers, in all countries, \vere they left to enjoy the
fair produce of their labour. Full pocket or empty
pocket, these American labourers are always the same
men : no saucy cunning in the one case, and no base
crawling in the other. This, too, arises from the free
institutions of government. A man has a voice because
he is a man, and not because he is the possessor of
money. And, shall 1 never see our English labourers
in this happy state ?
321. Let those English farmers, who love to see a
poor wretched labourer stand trembling before them
with his hat off, and Xi'ho think no more of him than of
a dog, remain where they are ; or, go off, on the cavalry
horses, to the devil at once, if they wish to avoid the
tax-gatherer ; for, they would, here, meet with so many
mortifications, that they would, to a certainty, hang
themselves in a month.
322. There are some, and even many, farmers, who
do not work themselves in the fields. But, they all
attend to the thing, and are all equally civil ta their
working people. They manage their affairs very ju
diciously. Little talking. -Orders plainly given in few
words, and in a decided tone. This is their only
secret.
323. The cattle and implements used in husbandry
are cheaper than in England: that is to say, lower
priced. The wear and tear not nearly half so much as
upon a farm in England of the same size. The cli
mate, the soil, the gentleness and docility of the horses
and oxen, the lightness of the wagons and carts, the
lightness and toughness of the wood of which husbandry
implements are made, the simplicity of the harness,
and, above all, the ingenuity and handiness of the work-
i
194 PRICES OF LAND, LABOUR, &c. [Part II.
men in reparing, and in making shift ; all these make
the implements a matter of very little note. Where horses
are kept, the shoeing of them is the most serious kind
of expense.
324. The first business of a farmer is, here, and ought
to be every where, to 'live well : to live in ease and
plenty ; to " keep ho&pitality ," as the old English say
ing was. To save money is a secondary consideration ;
but, any English farmer, who is a good farmer there,
may, if he will bring his industry and care with him,
and be sure to leave his pride and insolence (if he have
any) along with his anxiety, behind him, live in ease and
plenty here, and keep hospitality, and save a great par
cel of money too. If he have the Jack-Daw taste for
heaping little round things together in a hole, or chest,
he may follow his taste. I have often thought of my
good neighbour, JOHN GATER, who, if he were here,
with his pretty clipped hedges, his garden-looking
fields, and his neat homesteads, would have visitors from
far and near; and, while every one would admire and
praise, no soul would envy him his possessions. Mr.
GATER would soon have all these things. The hedges
only want planting ; and he would feel so comfortably
to know that the Botley Parson could never again poke
his nose into his sheep-fold or his pig-stye. However,
let me hope, rather, that the destruction of the Borough-
tyranny, will soon make England a country fit for an
honest and industrious man to live in. Let me hope,
that a relief from grinding taxation will soon relieve
men of their fears of dying in poverty, and will, thereby,
restore to England the " kospitality" for which she was
once famed, but which now really exists no where but in
America.
[ KJ5 ]
CHAP. X.
EXPENSES OF HOUSE-KEEPING.
325. IT must be obvious, that these must be in pro
portion to the number in family, and to the style of living.
Therefore, every one knowing how he stands in these
two respects, the best thing for me to do is to give an
account of ihepj^ices of house-rent, food, raiment, and
servants ; or, as they are called here, helpers.
326. In the great cities and towns house-rent is very
high-priced ; but, then, nobody but mad people live
there except they have business there, and, then, they
are paid back their rent in theprojits of that business.
This is so plain a matter, that no argument is necessary.
It is unnecessary to speak about the expenses of a
farm-house ; because the farmer eats, and very fre
quently wears, his own produce. If these be high-priced,
so is that part which he sells. Thus both ends meet
with him.
327. I am, therefore, supposing the case of a man,
who follows no business, and who lives upon what he
has got. In England he cannot eat and drink and w ear
the interest of his money ; for the Boroughmongers
have pawned half his income, and they will have it, or
his blood. He wishes to escape from this alternative.
He wishes to keep his blood, and enjoy his money too.
He would come to America ; but he does not know,
whether prices here will not make up for the robbery
of the Borough-villains ; and he wishes to know, too,
what sort of society he is going into. Of the latter I
will speak in the next chapter.
328. The price of house-rent and fuel is, when at
more than three miles from New York, as low as it is
at the same distance from any great city or town in
England. The price of wheaten bread is a third lower
than it is in any part of England. The price of beef,
mutton, lamb, veal, small pork, ho. <r-meat, poultry, is,
T 3
1Q6 EXPENSES OF HOUSE-KEEPING. [Part II.
one half the London price ; the first as good, the two
next very nearly as good, arid all the rest far, very far?
better than in London. The sheep and lambs that I
now kill for my house are as fat as any that J ever saw
in all my life ; and they have been running in wild
growidj wholly uncultivated for many years, all the
summer. A lamb, killed the week before last, weigh
ing in the whole thirty-eight pounds, had Jive pound*
of loose fat and three pounds and ten ounces of suet.
We cut a pound of solid fat from each breast ; and,
after that it was too fat to be pleasant to eat. My
flock being imall, forty, or thereabouts, of some neigh
bours joined them ; and they have all got fat together.
1 kave missed the interlopers lately: I suppose the
" Yorkers" have eaten them up by this time. What
they have fattened on except brambles and cedars, I am
sure I do not know. If any Englishman should be
afraid that he will find no roast-beef here, it may be
sufficient to tell him, that an ox was killed, last winter,
at Philadelphia, the quarters of which weighed two
thousand two hundred, and some odd pounds, and he
was sold TO THE BUTCHER for one thousand
three hundred dollars. This is proof enough of the
spirit of enterprize, and of the disposition in the public
to encourage it. I believe this to have been the fattest
ox that ever was killed in the world. Tliree times as
much money, or, perhaps, ten times as much, might
have been made, if the ox had been shown for mo
ney. But, this the owner would not permit ; and he
sold the ox in that condition. I need hardly say that
the owner was a Quaker. New Jersey had the honour
of producing this ox, and the owner's name was JOB
TYLER.
329. That there must be good bread in America is
pretty evident from the well known fact, that hundreds
of thousands of barrels of flour are, most years sent to
England, finer than any that England can produce.
And, having now provided the two principal articles,
1 will suppose, as a matter of course, that a gentleman
will have a garden, an orchard, and a cow or two ; but
if he should be able (no easy matter) to find a genteel
Chap. X.] EXPENSES OF HOUSE-KEEPING. 197
country-house without these conveniences, lie may buy
butter, cheaper, and, upon an average, better than in
England. The garden stuff, if he send to New York,
for it, he must buy pretty dear ; and faith, he ought to
buy it dear, if he will not have some planted and pre
served.
330. Cheese, of the North River produce, I have
bought as good of Mr. STICKLER of New York as I
ever tasted in all my life ; and, indeed, no better cheese
need be wished for than what is now made in this country.
The average price is about seven pence a pound (English
money,) which is much lower than even middling cheese
is in England. Perhaps, generally speaking, the cheese
here is not so good as the better kinds in England ; but,
there is none here so poor as the poorest in England.
Indeed the people would not eat it, which is the best
security against its being made. Mind, I state distinctly,
that as good cheese as I ever tasted, if not the best, was
of American produce. 1 know the article well. Bread
and cheese dinners have been the dinners of a good
fourth of my life. I know the Cheshire, Gloucester, Wilt
shire, Stilton, and the Parmasan ; and I never tasted
better than American cheese, bought of Mr. STICKLER,
in Broad Street, New York. And this cheese Mr.
STICKLER informs me is nothing uncommon in the
county of Cheshire in Massachusetts ; he knows at least
a hundred persons himself that make it equally good.
And, indeed, why should it not be thus in a country
where the pasture is so rich ; where the sun warms
every thing into sweetness ; where the cattle eat the
grass close under the shade of the thickest trees ; which
we know well they will not do in England. Take any
fruit which has grown in a shade in England, and you
will find that it has not half the sweetness in it that there
is in fruit of the same bulk, grown ife the sun. But,
here the sun sends his heat down through all the boughs
and leaves. The manufacturing of cheese is not yet
generally brought, in .this country, to the English per
fection ; but, here are all the materials, and the rest will
soon follow.
331. Groceries, as they are called, are, upon an
1Q8 EXPENSES OF HOUSE-KEEPING. [Part II.
average, at far less than half the English price. Tea,
sugar, coffee, spices, chocolate, cocoa, salt, sweet oil ;
all free of the Boroughmoogers' taxes and their pawn,
are so cheap as to be within the reach of every one.
Chocolate, which is a treat to the rich, in England, is
here used even by the negroes. Sweet oil, raisins, cur
rants ; all the things from the Levant, are at a fourth
orjifth of the English price. The English people, who
pay enormously to keep possession of the East and
West Indies, purchase the produce even of the English
possessions at a price double of that which the Ameri
cans give for that very produce! What a hellish op
pression must that people live under ! Candles and soap
(quality for quality) are half the English price. Wax
candles (beautiful) are at a third of the English price.
It is no very great piece of extravagance to burn wax
candles constantly here, and it is frequently done by
genteel people, who do not make their own candles.
332. Fish I have not mentioned, because tish is not
ever?/ where to be had in abundance. But, any where
near the coast it is ; and it is so cheap, that one wonders
how it can be brought to market for the money. Fine
Black-Rock, as good, at least, as codfish, I have seen
sold, and in cold weather too, at an English farthing
a pound. They now bring us fine fish round the country
to our doors, at an English three pence a pound. I be
lieve they count fifty or sixty sorts offish in New York
market, as the average. Oysters, other shell-fish, called
clams. In short, the variety and abundance are such
that 1 cannot describe them.
333. An idea of the state of plenty may be formed
from these facts : nobody but the free negroes who have
families ever think of eating a sheep's head and pluck.
It is seldom that oxen's heads are used at home, or sold.,
and never in the country. In the course of the year
hundreds of calves' heads, large bits and whole joints of
meat, are left on the shambles, at New York, for any
body to take away that will. They generally fall to the
share of the street hogs^ a thousand or two of which are
constantly fatting in New York on the meat and fish
rlung out Of the houses. I shall be told, that it is only
Chap. X.] EXPENSES OF HOUSE-KEEPING. J99
in hot weather, that the shambles are left thus garnished.
Very true ; but, are the shambles of any other country
thus garnished in hot weather ? Oh ' no ! If it were not
for the superabundance, all the food would be sold at
some price or other.
334. After bread, flesh, fish, fowl, butter, cheese and
groceries, comes fruit. Apples, pears, cherries, peaches
at a tenth part of the English price. The other day I
met a man going to market with a wagon load of winter
pears. He had high boards on the sides of the wagon
and his wagon neld about 40 or 50 bushels. I have
bought very good apples this year for four pence half
penny (English) a bushel, to boil for little pigs. Besides
these, strawberries grow wild in abundance ; but no one
will take the trouble to get them. Huckle-berries in the
woods in great Abundance, chesnuts all over the country.
Four^pence half-penny (English) a quart for these latter.
Cranberries, the finest fruit for tarts that ever grew, are
bought for about a dollar a bushel, and they will keep,
flung down in the corner of a room, for five months in the
year. As a sauce to venison or mutton, they are as good
as currant jelly. Pine apples in abundance, for several
months in the year, at an average of an English shilling
each. Melons at an average of an English eight pence.
In short, what is there not in the way of fruit ? All ex
cellent of their kin's and all for a mere trifle, compared
to what they cost in England.
335. I am afraid to speak of drink, lest I should be
supposed to countenance the common use of it. But, pro
testing most decidedly against this conclusion, J proceed
to inform those, who are not content with the cow for
vintner and brewer, that all the materials for making
people drunk, or muddle headed, are much cheaper
here than in England. Beer, good ale, I mean, a great
deal better than the common public-house beer in Eng
land ; in short, good strcfng clear ale, is, at New York,
eight dollars a barrel; that is, about fourteen English
pence a gallon. Brew yourself, in the country, and it is
about seven English pence a gallon; that is to say, less
than two pence a quart. No Borough-mongers' tax on
malt, hops, or beer ! Portugal wine is about half the
200 EXPENSES OF HOUSE-KEEPING. [Part 11.
price that it is in England. French wine a sixth part of
the English price. Brandy and rum about the same in
proportion; and the common spirits of the country are
about three shillings and sixpence (English) a gal/on.
Come on, then, if you love toping ; for here you may
drink yourselves blind at the price of sixpence.
336. WEARING APPAREL comes chiefly from Eng
land, and all the materials of dress are as cheap as they
are there ; for, though there is a duty laid on the impor
tation, the absence of taxes, and the cheap food and
drink, enable the retailer to sell as low here as there.
Shoes are cheaper than in England ; for, though shoe
makers are well paid for their labour, there is no
Boro ugh- villain to tax the leather. All the India and
French goods are at half the English price. Here no
ruffian can seize you by the throat and tear off your sus
pected handkerchief. Here SIGNOR WAITIIMAN, or
any body in that line, might have sold French gloves and
shawls without being tempted to quit the field of politics
as a compromise with the government ; and without any
breach of covenants, after being suffered to escape with
only a gentle squeeze.
337. Household Furniture, all cheaper than in Eng
land. Mahogany timber a third part of the English
price. The distance shorter to bring it, and the tax next
to nothing on importation. The woods here, the pine,
the ash, the white oak, the walnut, the tulip-tree, and
many others, all excellent. The workman paid high
wages, but no tax. No Borough-villians to share in the
amount of the price.
338. Horses, carriages, harness, all as good, as gay, and
cheaper than in England. I hardly ever saw a rip in this
country. The hackney coach horses and the coaches them
selves, at New York, bear no resemblance to things of the
s'Jime name in London. The former are all good, sound,
clean, and handsome. What the latter are 1 need describe
in no other way than to say, that the coaches seem fit
for nothing but the fire and the horses for the dogs.
339. Domestic servants ! This is a weighty article :
not in the cost, however, so much as in the plague. A
good man servant is worth thirty pounds sterling a year ;
Chap. X.] EXPENSES OF HOUSE-KEEPING. £01
and a good woman servant twenty pounds sterling a year.
But this is not all ; for, in the first place, they will hire
only by the month. This is what they, in fact, do in
England ; for, there they can quit at a month9 s warning.
The man will not wear a livery, any more than he will
wear a halter round his neck. This is no great matter;
for, as your neighbours' men are of the same taste, you
expose yourself to no humiliation on this score. Neither
men nor women will allow you to call them servants,
and they will take especial care not to call themselves by
that name. This seems something very capricious, at
the least ; and, as people in such situations of life, really
are servants according to even the sense which MOSES
gives to the wrord when he forbids the working of
the man servant and the maid servant , the objection,
the rooted aversion, to the name, seems to bespeak a
mixture of false pride and of insolence, neither of which
belong to the American character, even in the lowest
walks of life. 1 will, therefore, explain the cause of this
dislike to the name of servant. When this country was
rirst settled, there were no people that laboured for other
people ; but, as man is always trying to throw the work
ing part* off his own shoulders, as we see by the conduct
of priests in all ages, negroes were soon introduced.
Englishmen, who had Red from tyranny at home, were
naturally shy of calling other men their slaves ; and,
therefore, " for more grace,'" as Master Matthew says
in the play, they called their slaves servants. But, though
1 doubt not that this device was quite efficient in quiet
ing their own consciences, it gave rise to the notion, that
slave and servant meant one and the same thing, a con
clusion perfectly natural and directly deducible from the
premises. Hence every free man and woman have re
jected with just disdain the appellation of servant. One
would think, however, that they might be reconciled to
it by the conduct of some of their superiors in life, who
without the smallest apparent reluctance, call themselves
" Public servants," in imitation, I suppose, of English
Ministers, and his Holiness the Pope, who in the ex
cess of his humility, calls himself, " the Servant of the
Servants of the Lord." But, perhaps, the American
I 5
202 EXPENSES OF HOUSE-KEEPING. [Part II.
domestics have observed, that " Public Servant" really
means master. Be the cause what it may, however, they
continue most obstinately to scout the name of servant ;
and, though they still keep a civil tongue in their head,
there is not one of them who will not resent the affront
with more bitterness than any other that you can offer.
The man, therefore, who would deliberately offer such an
affront must be a fool. But, there is an inconvenience far
greater than this. People in general are so comfortably
situated, that very few, and then only of those who are
pushed hard, will become domestics to any body. So
that, generally speaking, domestics of both Sexes are far
1 from good. They are honest ; but they are not obedient.
They are careless. Wanting frequently in the greater
part of those qualities which make their services condu
cive to the neatness of houses and comfort of families.
What a difference would it make in this country, if it
could be supplied with nice,, clean, dutiful English maid
servants ! As to the men, it does not much signify ; but
for the want of the maids, nothing but the absence of
grinding taxation can compensate. As to bringing them
with you} it is as wild a project as it would be to try to
carry the sunbeams to England. They will begin to
change before the ship gets on soundings ; and, before
they have been here a month, you must Uun them out of
doors, or they will you. If, by any chance, youjind them
here, it may do ; but bring them out and keep them you
cannot. The best way is to put on your philosophy .4
never to look at this evil without, at the same time, look
ing at the many good things that you find here. Make the
best selection you can. Give good wages, not too much
work, and resoke, at all events, to treat them with civility.
340. However, what is this plagne, compared with
that of the tax gatherer? What is this plague compared
with the constant sight of beggars and paupers, and
$ie constant dread of becoming a pauper or beggar
yourself? If your commands are not obeyed with such
alacrity as in England, you have, at any rate, nobody
* to command you. You are not ordered to " stand and
deliver" twenty or thirty times in the year by the insolent
agent of Boroughmongers. No one comes to forbid you
Chap. X.] EXPENSES OF HOUSE-KEEPING. 203
to open or shut up a window. No insolent set of com
missioners send their order for you to dance attendance
oa them, to shew cause why they should not double-tax
i/ou ; and, when you have shewn cause, even on your
oath, make you pay the tax, laugh in your face, and
leave you an appeal from themselves to another set,
deriving their authority from the same source and having
a similar interest in oppressing you, and thus laying your
property prostrate beneath the hoof of an insolent and
remorseless tyranny. Free, wholly free, from this tanta
lizing, this grinding, this odious curse, what need you
care about the petty plagues of Domestic Servants ?
341. However, as there are some men and some
women, who can never be at heart's eare, unless they
have the power of domineering over somebody or other,
and who will rather be slaves themselves than not have
it in their power to treat pthers as slaves, it becomes a
man of fortune, proposing to emigrate to America, to
consider soberly, whether he, or his wife, be of this taste ;
and, if the result of his consideration be in the affirma
tive, his best way will be to continue to live under the
Boroughmongers, or, which I would rather recommend,
hang himself at once.
[ 204 ]
CHAP. XI.
MANNERS, CUSTOMS, AND CHARACTER OF THE PEOPLE,
342. ALL these are, generally speaking, the same as
those of the people of England. The French call this
people Les- Anglo Americans ; and, indeed, what are
they else? Of the manners and customs somewhat
peculiar to America I have said so much, here and there,
in former Chapters, that L can hardly say any thing new
here upon these matters. But, as society is naturally a
great thing with a gentleman, who thinks of coining
hither with his wife and children, I will endeavour to de
scribe the society that he will find here. To give ge
neral descriptions is not so satisfactory as it is to deal
a little in particular instances ; to tell of what one has
seen and experienced. This is what I shall do ; and, in
this Chapter I wish to be regarded as addressing my
self to a most worthy and public-spirited gentleman of
moderate fortune in Lancashire, who, with a large fa
mily, now balances whether he shall come or stay.
343. Now, then, my dear Sir, this people contains
very few persons very much raised in men's estimation,
above the general mass ; for, though there are some
men of immense fortunes, their wealth does very little
indeed in the way of purchasing even the outward signs
of respect ; and, as to adulation, it is not to be pur
chased with love or money. Men, be they what they
may, are generally called by their two names, without
any thing prefixed or added. I am one of the greatest
men in this country at present ; for people in general
call me " Cobbett," though the Quakers provokingly
persevere in putting the William before it, and my old
friends in Pennsylvania, use even the word Billy, which,
in the very sound of the letters, is an antidote to every
thing like thirst for distinction.
344. Fielding, in one of his romances, observes, that
there are but few cases, in which a husband can be
Chap. XL] CHARACTER or THE PEOPLE. 205
justified in availing himself of the right which the law
gives him to bestow manual chastisement upon his wife,
and that one of these, he thinks, is, when any preten
sions to superiority of blood make their appearance in
her language and conduct. They l.ave a better cure for
this malady here ; namely; silent, but, ineffable con
tempt.
34-5. It is supposed, in England, that this equality
of estimation must beget a general coarseness and rude
ness of behaviour. Never was there a greater mistake.
No man likes to be treated with disrespect; and, when
he rinds that he can obtain respect only by treating
others with respect, he will use that only means. W hen
he iinds that neither haughtiness nor wealth will bring
him a civil word, he becomes civil himself; and, I re
peat it again and again, this is a country of universal „
civility.
,846. The causes of hypocrisy are the fear of loss
and the hope of gain. Men crawl to those, whom, in
their hearts, they despise, because they fear the effects
of their ill-will and hope to gain by their good-will. The
circumstances of all ranks are so easy here, that there
is no cause for hypocrisy ; and the thing is not of so
fascinating a nature, that men should love it for its own
sake.
347. The boasting of wealth, and the endeavouring to
disguise poverty, these two acts, so painful to contem
plate, are almost total strangers in this country ; for, no -
man can gain adulation or respect, by his wealth, and no
man dreads the effects of poverty, because no man sees
any dreadful effects arising from poverty.
348. That anxious eagerness to get on, which is sel
dom unaccompanied with some degree of eirci) of more
successful neighbours, and which has its foundation first
in a dread of future want, and next in a desire to obtain
distinction hi/ means of wealth ; this anxious eagerness,
so unamiable in itself, and so unpleasant an inmate of
the breast, so great a sourer of the temper, is a stranger .
to America, where accidents and losses, which would drive
an Englishman half mad, produce but very little agita
tion.
206 MANNERS, CUSTOMS, AND [Part II.
34-9. From the absence of so many causes of uneasi
ness, of envy, of jealousy, of rivalship, and of mutual
dislike, society, that is to say, the intercourse between
man and man, and family and family, becomes easy and
pleasant ; while the universal plenty is t je cause of uni
versal hospitality. 1 know, and have ever known, but
little of the people in the cities and towns in America ;
but the difference between them and the people in the
country can only be such as is found in all other countries.
As to the manner of living in the country, I was, the
other day, at a gentleman's house, and I asked the lady
for her bill of fare for the year. I saw fourteen fat
hogs, weighing about twenty score a piece, which were
to come into the house foe next Monday ; for here they
slaughter them all in one day. This led me to ask,
" Why, in God's name, what do you eat in a year?"
The bill of fare was this, for this present year : about
this same quantity of hog-meat ; four beeves ; and
forty-six fat sheep! Besides the sucking pigs (of
which we had then one on the table,) besides lambs,
and besides the produce of seventy hen fowls, not to
mention good parcels of geese, ducks and turkeys, but,
not to forget a garden of three quarters of an acre and
fhe butter of ten cows, not one ounce of which is ever
.sold! What do you thiuk of that? Why you will say,
this must be some great overgrown farmer, that has
swallowed up half the country ; or some nabob sort of
merchant. Not atall.'Hehas only one hundred and Jifty
four acres of land, (all he consumes is of the produce
of this land,) and he lives in the same house that his
English-born grandfather lived in.
.350. When the hogs are killed, the house is full of
work. The sides are salted down as pork. The hams are
smoked. The lean meats are made into sausages, of which,
in this family, they make about two hundred weight.
These latter, with broiled fish, eggs, dried beef, dried
mutton, slices of ham, tongue, bread, butter, cheese, short
cakes, buck-wheat cakes, sweet-meats of various sorts
•«>ml many other things, make up the breakfast fare of
the "year, and a dish of beef stakes is frequently added.
351. When one sees this sort of living, with the
Chap. XT.j CHARACTER OF THE PEOPLE. 207
houses full of good beds, ready for the guest as well
as the family to sleep in, \\e cannot help perceiving,
that this is that " English Hospitality*' of which we
have read so much ; but, which Boroughmongers' taxes
and pawns have long since driven out of England.
This American way of life puts one in mind of FORTES-
CUE'S line description of the happy state of the English,
produced by their good laws, which kept every man's
property sacred, even from the grasp of the king.
<4 Every inhabitant is at his Liberty fully to use and
" enjoy whatever his farm produceth, the Fruits of the
" Earth, the Increase of his Flock, and the like : All the
" Improvements he makes, whether by his own proper
" Industry, or of those he retains in his Service, are his
" own to use and enjoy without the Lett, Interruption,
" or Denial of any : If he be in any wise injured, or
" oppressed, he shall have his Amends and Satisfaction
" against the party offending : Hence it is, that the In-
" habitants are rich in Gold, Silver, and in all the Ne-
" cessaries and Conveniences of Life. They drink no
11 Water, unless at certain Times, upon a Religious
" Score, and by way of doing Penance. They are fed,
" in great Abundance, with all sorts of Flesh and
" Fish, of which they have plenty every where ; they are
" clothed throughout in good Woollens ; their Bedding
" and other Furniture in their Houses are of W ool, and
tl that in great Store : They are also well provided
" with all other Sorts of Household Goods, and neces-
" sary Implements for Husbandry : Every one, accord-
u ing to his Rank, hath all 'Filings which conduce to
" make Life easy and happy. They are not sued at
" Law but before the Ordinary Judges, where they are
" treated with Mercy and Justice, according to the Laws
" of the Land; neither are they im pleaded in Point of
" Property, or arrainged for any Capital Crime, how
" heinous soever, but before the King's Judges, and
u according to the Laws of the Land. These are the
" Advantages consequent from that Political Mixt
" Government which obtains in England- "
3,32. This passage, which was first pointed out to
wie by SIR FRANCES BURDETT, describes the state of
(208 MANNERS, CUSTOMS, AND [Part II.
England four hundred years ago ; and this, with the
polish of modern times added, is now the state of the
.Americans. Their forefathers brought the li English
Hospitality" with them ; for when they left the coun
try, the infernal Boroughmongers' Funding system had
not begun. The STUARTS were religions and prero
gative tyrants : but they were not, like their successors,
the Boroughmongers, taxing, plundering tyrants. Their
quarrels with their subjects were about mere words ;
with the Boroughmongers it is a question of purses and
strong-boxes, of goods and chatties, lands and tene
ments. " Confiscation'* is their word ; and you must
submit, be hanged, or flee. They take away men's
property at their pleasure, without any appeal to any
tribunal. They appoint Commissioners to seize what
they choose. There is, in fact, no law of property
left. The bishop-begotten and hetl-born system of
Funding has stripped England of every vestige of what
was her ancient character. Her hospitality along with
her freedom have crossed the Atlantic ; and here they
are to shame our ruffian tyrants, if they were sensible
of shame, and to give shelter to those who may be dis
posed to deal them distant blows.
353. It is not with a little bit of dry toast so neatly put
in a rack : a bit of butter so round and small ; a little milk-
pot so pretty and so empty ; an eg* for you, the host and
hostess not liking eggs. It is not with looks that seem to
say, ''don't eat too much, for the tax gatherer is coming."
It is not thus that you are received in America. You
are not much asked, not much pressed, to eat and drink ;
but, such an abundance is spread before you, and so
hearty and so cordial is your reception, that you instantly
lose all restraint, and are tempted to feast whether you
be hungry or not. And, though the manner and style
are widely different in different houses, the abundance
every where prevails. This is the strength of the go
vernment : a happy people: and DO government ought
to have any other strength.
354. But, you may say, perhaps, that plenty, how
ever great, is not all that is wanted. Very true ; for
the mind is of more account than the carcass. But,
Chap. XL] CHARACTER OF THE PEOPLE. '209
here is mind too. These repasts, amongst people of
any figure, come forth under the superintendance of
industrious and accomplished house-wives, or their
daughters, who all read a great deal, and in whom that
gentle treatment from parents and husbands, which arises
from an absence of raking anxiety, has created an habi
tual and even an hereditary good humour. These ladies
can converse with you upon almost any subject, and the
ease and gracefulness of their behaviour are surpassed
by those of none of even our best tempered English
women. They fade at an earlier age than in England ;
but, till then, they are as beautiful as the women in Corn
wall, which contains, to my thinking, the prettiest women
in our country. However, young or old, blooming or
fading, well or ill, rich or poor, they still preserve their
good humour.
' But, since, alas ! frail beauty must decay,
1 Cnrl'd or uncurl'd, since locks will turn to grey ;
* Since painted, or not painted, all shall fade,
' And she who scorns a man must die a maid ;
' What, then, remains, but well our pow'r to use,
* And keep good /tumour still, whate'er we lose ?
* And, trust me, Dear, good -humour can prevail,
'* When flights and fits and screams and scolding fail."
355. This beautiful passage, from the most beautiful of
poets, which ought to be fastened in large print upon every
lady's dressing table, the American women of all ranks,
seem to have by heart. Even amongst the very lowest
of the people, you seldom hear of that torment, which
the old proverb makes the twin of a smoky house.
356. There are very few really ignorant men in
America of native growth. Every fanner is more or
lass of a reader. There is no brogue, no provincial
dialect. No class like that which the French call
peasantry, and which degrading appellation the mis
creant spawn of the Funds have, of late years,
applied to the whole mass of the most useful of the
people in England, those who do the work and fight
the battles. And, as to the men, who would naturally
form your acquaintances, they, I know from experience,
are as kind, frank, and sensible men as are, on the
general run, to be found in England, even with the
'210 MANNERS, CUSTOMS, AND [Part II.
power of selection. They are till well-informed ; modest
without shyness ; always free to communicate what they
know, and never ashamed to acknowledge that they have
yet to learn. You never hear them boast of their pos
sessions, and you never hear them complaining of their
wants. They have all been readers from their youth
up ; and there are few subjects upon which they cannot
converse with you, whether of a political or scientific
nature. At any rate, they always hear with patience.
I do not know that I ever heard a native American
interrupt another man while he was speaking. Their
sedateness and coolness, the deliberate manner in which
they say and do every thing, and the slowness and
reserve with which they express their assent ; these are
very wrongly estimated, when they are taken for marks
of a want of feeling. It must be a tale of woe indeed,
that will bring a tear from an American's eye ; but any
trumped-up story will send his hand to his pocket, as
the ambassadors from the beggars of France, Italy and
Germany can fully testify.
357- However, you will not, for a long while, know
what to do for want of the quick responses of the
English tongue, and the decided tone of the English
expression. The loud voice ; the hard squeeze by the
hand ; the instant assent or dissent ; the clamorous joy,
the bitter wailing i the ardent friendship ; the deadly
enmity ; the love that makes people kill themselves ; the
hatred that makes them kill others. All these belong
to the characters of Englishmen, in whose mind and
hearts every feeling exists in the extreme. To decide
the question, which character is, upon the whole,
best, the American or the English, we must appeal to
some third party. But, it is no matter: we cannot
change our natures. For my part, who can, in nothing,
think or act by halves, 1 must belie my very nature, if
1 said that I did1 not like the character of my own
countrymen best. We all like our own parents and
children better than other people's parents and chil
dren ; not because they are better, but because they
are ours ; because they belong to us and we to them,
and because we must resemble each other. There are
Chap. XI.] CHARACTER OF THE PEOPLE. 211
some Americans that 1 like full as well as I do any man
in England ; but, if, nation against nation, I put the
question home to my heart, it instantly decides in favour
of my countrymen.-
358. You must not be offended if you find people
here take but little interest in the concerns of England.
Why should they? BOLTON F R cannot hire
spies to entrap them. As matter of curiosity, they may
contemplate such works as those of FLETCHER ; but,
they cannot feel much upon the subject; and they are
not insincere enough to express much. ,
S5Qt. There is one thing in the Americans, which
though its proper place was further back, I have reserv
ed, or rather kept bach, to the last moment. It has pre
sented itself several times ; but I have turned from the
thought, as men do from thinking of any mortal disease
that is at work in their frame. It is not covetousness ;
it is not niggardliness ; it is not insincerity ; it is not
enviousness ; it is not cowardice, above all things ; it is
DRINKING. Aye, and that too, amongst but too many
men, who, one would think, would loath it. You can go
into hardly any man's house, without being asked to drink
wine or spirits, even in the morning. They are quick
"at meals, are little eaters, seem to care little about
what they eat, and never talk about it. This, which
arises out of the universal abundance of good and even
line eatables, is very amiable. You are here disgusted
with none of those eaters by reputation that are found,
especially amongst the Parsons, in England : fellows
that unbutton at it. Nor do the Americans sit and tope
much after dinner, and talk on till they get into nonsense
and smut, which last is a sure mark of a silly and, pretty
generally, even of a base mind. But, they tipple; and the
infernal spirits they tipple too ! The scenes that I wit
nessed at Hamburgh i shall never forget. 1 almost
wished (God forgive me !) that there were Boroughmon-
gers here to tax these drinkers : they would soon
reduce them to a moderate dose. Any nation that feels
itself uneasy with its fulness of good things, has only
to resort to an application of Boroughmongers. These
are by no means nice feeders or of contracted throat ;
MANNERS, CUSTOMS, AND [Part II.
they will suck down any thing from the poor man's po
of beer to the rich man's lands and tenements.
360. The Americans preserve their gravity and quiet
ness and good-humour even in their drink ; and so
much the worse. It were far better for them to be as
noisy and quarrelsome as the English drunkards ; for
then the odiousness of the vice would be more visible,
and the vice itself might become less frequent. Few
vices want an apology, and drinking has not only its apo
logies but its praises ; for, besides the appellation of
"generous wine," and the numerous songs, some in very
elegant and witty language, from the pens of debauched
men of talents, drinking is said to be necessary, in certain
cases at least, to raise the spirits, and to keep out cold.
Never was any thing more false. Whatever intoxicates
must enfeeble in the end, and whatever enfeebles must
chili. It is very well known, in the Northern countries,
that, if the cold be such as to produce danger of frost
biting, you must take care not to drink strong liquors.
36 1 . To see this beastly vice in young men is shock
ing. At one of the taverns at Harrisburgh there were
several as tine young men as I ever saw. Well dressed,
well educated, polite, and every thing but sober, What a
squalid, drooping, sickly set they looked in the morning!
362. Even little boys at, or under, twelve years of age,
go into stores, and tip off their drams ! I never struck a
child, in auger, in my life, that I recollect; but, if I were
so unfortunate as to have a son to do this, he having
had an example to the contrary in me, I would, if all
other means of reclaiming him failed, whip him like a
dog, or, which would be better, make him an out-cast
from my family.
363. However, I must not be understood as meaning,
that this tippling is universal amongst gentlemen ; and,
God be thanked, the women of any figure in life do by
no means give into the practice; but, abhor it as much
as well-bred women in England, who in general, no
more think of drinking strong liquors, than they do of
drinking poison.
364. I shall be told, that men in the harvest field
must have something to drink. To be sure, where per-
Chap. XI.] CHARACTER OF THE PEOPLE. 213
spii'ution almost instantly carries off the drink, the latter
does not remain so long to burn the liver, or whatever
else it does burn. But, I must question the utility even
here ; and I think, that in the long run, a water-drinker
would beat a spirit drinker at any thing, provided both
had plenty of good food. And, besides, beer, which
does not burn, at any rate, is within every one's reach in
America, if he will but take the trouble to brew it.
36o. A man, at Botley, whom I was very severely re
proaching for getting drunk and lying in the road, whose
name was JAMES ISAACS, and who was, by the by, one
of the hardest workers I ever knew, said, in answer,
" Why, now, Sir, NOAH and LOT were two very good
" men, you know, and yet they loved a drop of drink.""
" Yes, you drunken fool," replied I, " but you do not
" read that Isaac ever got drunk and rolled about the
" road." I could not help thinking, however, that the
BIBLE SOCIETIES, with the wise Emperor Alexander
and the Holy Alliance at their head, might as well (to
say nothing about the cant of the thing) leave the Bible
to work its own way. I had seen ISAACS dead drunk
lying stretched out, by my front gate, against the pub
lic highway ; and, if he had followed the example of
NOAH, he would not have endeavoured to excuse him
self in the modest manner that he did, but would have
affixed an ever la it ing curse on me and my children to all
generations.
366. The soldiers, in the regiment that I belonged to,
many of whom served in the American war, had a say
ing, the Quakers used the word tired in place of the
word drunk. Whether any of them do ever get tired
themselves, 1 know not ; but at any rate they most reso
lutely set their faces against the common use of spirits.
They forbid their members to retail them ; and, in case
of disobedience, they disown them.
367. However, there is no remedy but the introduc
tion of beer, and, I am very happy to know, that beer
is, every day, becoming more and more fashionable.
At Bristol in Pennsylvania, 1 was pleased to see
excellent beer in clean and nice pewter pots. Beer
does not kill. It does not eat out the vitals and take
214 MANNERS, CUSTOMS, &c. [Part IL
the colour from the cheek. It will make men "tired,"
indeed, by midnight ; but it does not make them lialf
dead in the morning. We call wine the juice of the
grape, and such it is with a proportion of ardent spirits
equal, in Portugal wine, to &JiJth of the wine ; and,
therefore, when a man has taken down a bottle of Port
or of Maderia, he has nearly half a pint of ardtfnt
spirits in him. And yet how many foolish mothers
give their children Port wine to strengthen them ! I
never like your wine-physicians, though they fire great
favourites with but too many patients. BONIFACE, in
the Beaux Stratagem, says that he has eaten his ale,
driink his ale, worked upon his ale, and slept upon his
ale, for forty years, and that he has grown fatter and
fatter; but, that his wife (God rest her soul!) would
not take it pure: she would adulterate it with brandy ;
till, at last rinding that the poor woman was never well,
he put a tub of her favourite by her bedside, which,
in a short time, brought her u a happy release" from
this " state of probation," and carried her off into
" the world of spirits." Whether Boniface meant this
as spun, I do not know ; for, really, if I am to judge
from the practice of many of the vagrant fanatics, I
must believe, that, when they rave about the Spirit's
entering them, they mean that which goes out of a glass
down their throat. Priests may make what they will
of their devil ; they may make him a reptile with a
forked tongue, or a beast with a cloven hoof; they may,
like Milton, dress him out with seraphic wings ; or like
Saiat Francis, they may give him horns and tail : but,
I say that the devil, who is the strongest tempter, and
who produces the most mischief in the world, ap
proaches us in the shape of liquid, not melted brimstone,
but wine, gin, brandy, rum, and whiskey. One com
fort is, however, that this devil, of whose existence we
can have no doubt, who is visible and even tangible,
we can if we will, without the aid of priests, or, rather,
in spite of them, easily and safely set at defiance.
There are many wrong things which men do against
the general and natural bent of their minds. Fraud,
theft, and even murder, are frequently, and most fre-
Chap. XII. ] RURAL SPOUTS. 215
quently, the offspring of want. In these cases, it is a
choice of evils; crime or hunger. But, drinking to
excess is a man's own act ; an evil deliberately sought
after ; an act of violence committed against reason and
against nature; and that, too, without the smallest
temptation, except from that vicious appetite, which he
himself has voluntarily created.
368. You, my dear Sir, stand in need of no such
lectures as this, and the same is, I hope, the case with
the far greater part of my readers ; but, if it tend, in
the smallest degree, to check the fearful growth of this
tree of unmixed evil ; if it should make the bottle less
cherished even in one small circle ; nay, if it keep but
one young man in tlie world in the paths of sobriety,
how could my time have been better bestowed !
CHAP. XII.
RURAL SPORTS.
360. THERE are persons, who question the right of
man to pursue and destroy the wild animals, whicli
are called game. Such persons, however, claim the
right of killing foxes and hawks; yet, these have as
much right to live and to follow their food as pheasants
and pat ridges have. This, therefore, in such persons,
is nonsense.
370. Others, in their mitigated hostility to the sports
of the field, say, that it is wanton cruelty to shoot or
hunt ; and that we' kill animals from the farm-yard
only because their flesh is necessary to our own exist
ence. PROVE THAT. No : you cannot. If you
could, it is but the " tyrant's plea;" but you cannot :
for we know that men can, and do, live without animal
food, and, if their labour be not of an exhausting kind1,
live well too, and longer than those who eat it. Jt
comes to this, then, that we kill hogs and oxen because
216 RURAL SPORTS. [Part II.
we choose to kill them ; and, we kill game for precisely
the same reason.
371. A third class of objectors, seeing the weak po
sition of the two former, and still resolved to eat flesh,
take their stand upon this ground : that sportsmen
send some game off wounded and leave them in a state
of suffering. These gentlemen forget the operations
performed upon calves, pigs, lambs and sometimes on
poultry. Sir ISAAC COFFIN prides himself upon teach
ing the English ladies how to make turkey-capojis !
Only think of the separation of calves, pigs, and lambs,
at an early age, from their mothers ! Go, you senti
mental eaters of veal, sucking pig and lamb, and hear
the mournful lowings, whinings, and bleatings ; observe
the anxious listen, the wistful look, and the dropping
tear, of the disconsolate dams ; and, then, while you
have the carcases of their young ones under your teeth
cry out, as soon as you can empty your mouths a little,
against the cruelty of hunting and shooting. Get up
from dinner (but take care to stuff well first), and go
and drown the puppies of the bitch, and the kittens of
the cat, lest they should share a little in what their mo
thers have guarded with so much fidelity ; and as good
stuffing may tend to make you restless in the night, order
the geese to be picked alive, that, however your consci
ences may feel, your bed, at least, may be easy and soft.
Witness all this with your own eyes ; and then go weep
ing to bed, at the possibility of a hare having been ter
ribly frightened without being killed, or of a bird having
been loft in a thicket with a shot in its body or a fracture
in its wing. But, before you go up stairs, give your
servants orders to be early at market for fish, fresh out
of the water ; that they may be scaled, or skinned alive !
A truce with you, then, sentimental eaters of flesh :
and here I propose the terms of a lasting compromise
with you. We must, on each side, yield something :
we sportsmen will content ourselves with merely seeing
the hares ship and the Inrdsfly ; and you shall be content
with the flesh and fish that come from cases of natural
death, of which I am sure, your compassionate dispo
sition will not refuse us a trifling allowance.
Chap. XII.] RURAL SPORTS. 217
3/2. Nor have even the Pythagoreans a much bet
ter battery against us. Sir RICHARD PHILLIPS, who
once rang a peal in my ears against shooting and hunting,
does, indeed, eat i\eit\ierjles/i,jish, nor fowl. His absti
nence surpasses that of a Carmelite, while his bulk would
not disgrace a Benedictine Monk, or a Protestant Dean.
But, he forgets, that his shoes and breeches and gloves
are made of the skins of animals : he forgets that he
writes (and very eloquently too) with what has been
cruelly taken from a fowl ; and that, in order to cover
the books which he has had made and sold, hundreds of
flocks and scores of droves must have perished; nay, that,
to get him his beaver-hat, a beaver must have been hunt
ed and killed, and, in the doing of which, many beavers
may have been wounded and left to pine away the rest
of their lives; and, perhaps many little orphan beavers,
left to lament the murder of their parents. BEN LEY was
the only real and sincere Pythagorean of modern times,
that 1 ever heard of. He protested, not only against
eating the flesh of animals, but also against robbing their
backs ; and therefore, his dress consisted wholly vfjtax.
But, even he, like Sir Richard Phillips, ate milk, butter,
cheeee, and eggS ; though this was cruelly robbing the
hens, cows, and calves ; and, indeed causing the mur
der of the calves. In addition, poor little BEN forgot
the materials of book-binding ; and, it was well he did ;
for else, his Bible would have gone into the tire !
373. Taking it for granted, then, that sportsmen
are as good as other folks on the score of humanity,
the sports of the field, like every thing else done in the
fields, tend to produce, or preserve health. I prefer
them to all other pastime, because they produce early
rising ; because they have no tendency to lead young
men into vicious habits. It is where men congregate
that the vices haunt. A hunter or a shooter may also
be a gambler and a drinker ; but, he is less likely to
be fond of the two latter, if he be fond of the former.
Boys will take to something in the way of pastime ;
and it is better that they take to that which is innocent,
healthy, and manly, than that which is vicious, un
healthy, and effeminate. Besides, the scenes of rural
K
RURAL SPOUTS. [Part II.
sport are necessarily at a distance from cities and
towns. This is another great consideration ; for though
great talents are wanted to be employed in the hives of
men, they are very rarely acquired in these hives : the
surrounding objects are too numerous, too near the
eye, too frequently under it, and too artificial ,
574. For these reasons I have always encouraged my
sons to pursue these sports. They have, until the age of
1 4 or 15, spent their time, by day, chiefly amongst horses
and dogs, and in the fields and farm-yard ; and their
candlelight has been spent chiefly in reading books about
hunting and shooting and about dogs and horses. 1 have
supplied them plentifully with books and prints relating
to these matters. They have drawn horses, dogs, and
game themselves. These things, in which they took so
deep an interest, not only engaged their attention and
wholly kept them from all taste for, and even all know
ledge of cards and other senseless amusements ; but, they
led them to read and write of their own accord; and,
never in my life have I set them a copy in writing nor
attempted to teach them a word of reading. They have
learnt to read by looking into books about dogs arid game;
and they have learnt to write by imitating my writing, and
by writing endless letters to me, when I have been from
home, about their dogs and other rural concerns. While
the Borough-tyrants had me in Newgate for two years,
with a thousand pounds fine, for having expressed my
indignation at their flogging of Englishmen, in the heart
of England, under a guard of Hanoverian sabres, 1 re
ceived volumes of letters from my children ; and, I have
them nowr, from the scrawl of three years, to the neat
and beautiful hand of thirteen. 1 never told them of
any errors in their letters. All was well. The best
evidence of the utility of their writing, and the strongest
encouragement to write again, was a very clear answer
from me, in a very precise hand, and upon very nice
paper, which they never failed promptly to receive.
They have all written to me before they could form a
single letter. A little bit of paper, with some ink-
marks on it, folded up by themselves, and a wafe;
stuck in it, used to be sent to me, and it was sure to
Chap, XII. ] RURAL SPORTS. 219
bring the writer a very, very kind answer. Thus have
they gone on. So far from being a trouble to me, they
have been all pleasure and advantage. For many
years they have been so many secretaries. I have
dictated scores of Registers to them, which have gone
to the press without my ever looking at them. I dic
tated Registers to them at the age of thirteen, and even
of twelve. They have, as to trust-worthiness, been
grown persons, at eleven or twelve. I could leave my
house and affairs, the paying of men, or the going from
home on business, to them at an age when boys in Eng
land, in general, want servants to watch them to see that
they do not kill chickens, torment kittens, or set the
buildings on tire.
375. Here is a good deal of boasting ; but, it will
not be denied, that L have done a great deal in a short
public life, and I see no harm in telling my readers of
any of the means that I have employed ; especially as
I know of few greater misfortunes than that of breeding
up things to be school-boys all their lives. It is not,
that I have so many wonders of the \vorld : it is that I
have pursued a rational plan of education, and one that
any man may pursue, if he will, with similar effects. I
remember, too, that T myself had had a sportsman-edu
cation. I ran after the hare-hounds at the age of nine or
ten. 1 have many and many a day left the rooks to dig
up the wheat and peas, while I followed the hounds ;
and have returned home at dark-night, with my legs full
of thorns and my belly empty to go supperless to bed,
and to congratulate myself if 1 escaped a flogging. I
was sure of these consequences ; but that had not
the smallest effect in restraining me. All the lectures,
all the threats, vanished from my mind in a moment
upon hearing the first cry of the hounds, at which my
heart used to be ready to bound out of my body. I re
membered all this. . I traced to this taste my contempt
for card-playing and for all childish and effeminate
amusements. And, therefore, I resolved to leave the
same course freely open to my sons. This is my plan of
education : others may follow what plan they please.
376. This Chapter will be a head witheut a body ;
K 2
220 RURAL SPORTS. [Part II.
for it will not require much time to give an account of
the rural sports of America. The general taste of the
country is to kill the things in order to have them to eat,
which latter forms no part of the sportsman's objects.
377. There cannot be said to be any thing here,
which, we, in England, call hunting. The deer are
hunted by dogs, indeed, but the hunters do not follow.
They are posted at their several stations to shoot the
deer as he passes. This is only one remove from the
Indian hunting. I never saw, that I know of, any man
that had seen a pack of hounds in America, except those
kept by old JOHN BROWN, in Bucks County, Pennsyl
vania, who was the only hunting Quaker that I ever
heard of, and who was grandfather of the famous General
Brown. In short, there is none of what we call hunting;
or, so little, that no man can expect to meet with it.
378. No coursing. I rever saw a greyhound here.
Indeed, there are no hares, that have the same manners
that olirs have, or any thing like their fleetness. The
woods, too, or some sort of cover, except in the singu
lar instance of the plains in this island, are too near at
hand.
379. But, of shooting the variety is endless. Phea
sants, partridges, wood-cocks, snipes, grouse,wild-ducks
of many sorts, teal, plover, rabbits.
580. There is a disagreement between the North and
he South as to the naming of the two former. North
of New Jersey, the pheasants are called partridges and
the partridges are called quails. To the South of New
Jersey, they are called by what I think are their proper
names, taking the English names of those birds to be
proper. For, pheasants do not remain in coveys ; but,
mix, like common fowls. The intercourse between the
males and females is promiscuous, and not by pairs,
as in the case of partridges. And these are the man
ners of the American pheasants, which are found by
ones, twos, and so on, and never in families, except
when i/oung, when, like chickens, they keep with the
old hen. The American partridges are not quails ;
becar.se quails are gregarious. They keep in flocks,
like rooks (called croics in America), or like larks, or
Chap. XII.] RURAL SPORTS. 221
starlings ; of which the reader will remember a remark
able instance in the history of the migration of those
grumbling vagabonds, the Jews, soon after their march
from HOREB, when the quails came and settled upon
each other's backs to a height of two cubits, and co
vered a superficial space of two days' journey in diame
ter. It is a well known fact, that quails Jiock : it is also
well known that partridges do not, but that they keep in
distinct families, which we call coveys from the French
couvee, which means the eggs or brood which the hen
covers at one time. The American partridges live in
coveys. The cock and his pair in the spring. They
have their brood by sitting alternately cm the eggs, just
as the English partridges do ; the young ones, if none
are killed, or die, remain with the old ones till spring ;
the covey always live within a small distance of the same
spot ; if frightened into a state of separation, they c all to
each other and re-assemble ; they roost altogether in a
round ring, as close as they can sit, the tails inward and
the heads outward : and are, in short, in all their man
ners, precisely the same as the English partridge, with
this exception, that they will sometimes alight on a rail
or a bough, and that, when the hen sits, the cock, perched
at a little distance, makes a sort of periodical whistle, in
a monotonous, but very soft and sweet tone.
381. The size of the pheasant is about the half ot
that of the English. The plumage is by no means so
beautiful ; but the flesh is far more delicate. .The
size of the partridge bears about the same proportion.
But its plumage is more beautiful than that of the
English, and its flesh is more delicate. Both are de
lightful, though rather difficult, shooting. The phea
sant does not tower, but darts through the trees ; and
the partridge does not rise boldly, but darts away at
no great height from the ground. Some years they are
more abundant than other years. This is an abundant
year. There are, perhaps, fifty coveys within half a
mile of my house.
3§2. The wood-cocks are, in all respects, like those
in England, except that they are only about three-fifths
of the size. They breed here ; and are in such num-
222 RURAL SPORTS. [Part II.
bers, that some men kill twenty brace, or more in a day.
Their haunts are in marshy places, or woods. The
shooting of them lasts from the fourth of July till the
har dish frosts come. The last we killed this year was
killed on the 21 st of November. So that here arejfe
months of this sport ; and pheasants and partridges are
shot from September to April.
383. The snipes are called English snipes., which
they resemble in all respects, and are found in great
abundance in the usual haunts of snipes.
384. The grouse is precisely like the Scotch grouse.
There is only here and there a place where they are
found. But, they are, in those places, killed in great
quantities in the fall of the year.
385. As to wild ducks and other water-fowl, which
are come at by lying in wait, and killed most frequently
swimming, or sitting, they are slaughtered in whole
Hocks. An American counts the cost of powder and
shot. If he is deliberate in every thing else, this habit
will hardly forsake him in the act of shooting. When
the sentimental flesh-eaters hear the report of his gun,
they may begin to pull out their white handkerchiefs ;
for death follows die pull of the trigger, with, perhaps,
even more certainty than it used to follow the lancet of
DOCTOR RUSH.
386. The PLOVER is a fine bird, and is found in great
numbers upon the plains, and in the cultivated fields, of
this Island, and at a mile from my house. Plovers are
very shy and wary ; but they have ingenious enemies to
deal with. A wagon, or carriage of some sort, is made
use of to approach them ; and then they are easily killed.
387. Rabbits are very abundant in some places.
They are killed by shooting ; for all here is done with
the gun. No reliance is placed upon a dog.
388. As to game-laws there are none, except those
which appoint the times for killing. People go where
they like, and, as to wild animals, shoot what they like.
There is the Common Law, which forbids trespass, and
the Statute Law, I believe, of " malicious trespass ,"
or trespass after warning. And these are more than
enough ; for nobody, that I ever hear of, warns people
Chap. XIII.] PAUPERS.
off. So that, as far as shooting goes, and that is the
sport which is the most general favourite, there never
was a more delightful country than this Island. The
sky is so fair, the soil so dry, the cover so convenient,
the game so abundant, and the people, go where you
will, so civil, hospitable, and kind.
CHAP. XIII.
PAUPERS.
389. IT is a subject of great exultation in the hireling
newspapers of the Borough-villains, that "poverty and
poor-rates have found their way to America." As to
the former it is literally true ; for the poverty that is
here has, almost the whole of it, come, from Europe ;
but, the means of keeping the poor arise here upon the
spot.
3QO. Great sums of money are raised in New York,
Philadelphia, Boston, and other great sea-ports, for the
maintenance of" the poor;" and the Boroughmonger's
eagerly catch at the published accounts of this concern,
and produce them as proofs, that misery is as great in
America as it is under their iron rod. I will strip them
of this pretext in a few minutes.
391. Let ustake New York, for instance. It is noto
rious that, whatever may be the number of persons re
lieved by poor rates, the greater part of them are
.Europeans, who have come hither, at different periods
and under circumstances of distress, different, of course,
in degree. There is, besides, a class of persons here of
a description very peculiar ; namely: the free negroes.
Whatever may have been the motives which led to their
emancipation, it is very certain, that it has saddled the
white people with a charge. These| negroes are a dis
orderly, improvident set of beings ; and, the paupers,
224 PAUPERS. [Part II,
in the country, consist almost wholly of them. Take out
the foreigners and the negroes, and you will find, that
the paupers of New York do not amount to a hundredth
part of those of Liverpool, Bristol, Birmingham, or
London, population for population. New York is a
sea-port, and the only great sea-port of a large district
of country. All the disorderly crowd to it. It teems
with emigrants ; but, even there, a pauper, who is a
white, native American, is a great rarity.
392. But, do the Borough-villains think, that the word
pauper has the same meaning here that it has under
their scorpion rod ? A pauper under them means a man
that is able and willing to work, and who does work like
a horse ; and who is so taxed, has so much of his earnings
taken from him by them to pay the interest of their Debt
and the pensions of themselves and their wives, children,
and dependants, that he is actually starving and fainting
at his work. This is what is meant by a pauper in
England. But, at New York, a pauper is, genera Hi/, a
man who is unable, or, which is more frequently the case,
unwilling to work ; who is become debilitated from a vici
ous life ; or, who, like Borough-mongers and Priests,linds
it more pleasant to live upon the labour of others than
upon his own labour. A pauper in England is fed upon
bones, garbage, refuse meat, and tf substitutes for bread."
A pauper here expects, and has, as much flesh, fish, and
bread and cake as he can devour. How gladly would
many a little tradesman, or even little farmer, in Eng
land, exchange his diet for that of a New York pauper !
393. Where there are such paupers as those in Eng
land, there are beggars; because, when they find, that
they are nearly starved in the former character, they
will try the latter in spite of all the vagrant acts that
any hell-born Funding system can engender. And,
who ever saw a beggar in America? u I have !" ex
claims some spy of the Boroughmongers, who hopes to
become a Boroughmonger himself. And so have I too.
I have seen a couple since I have been on this Island ;
and of them I will speak presently. But there are
different sorts of beggars too as well as of paupers In
England a beggar is a poor creature, with hardly rags
Chap. XIII.] PAUPERS. 225
(mere rags) sufficient to cover its nakedness so far ,even
as common decency requires. A wretched mortal, the
bare sight of whom would freeze the soul of an Amercan
within him. A dejected, broken down thing, that ap
proaches you bare-headed, on one knee, witha trembling
voice, with " Pray bestow your charity, for the Lord Jesus
" Christ'ssake have compassion on a poor soul;" and if
you toss a halfpenny into his ragged hat, he exclaims in
an ecstasy, " God Almighty bless your honour !" though
you, perhaps, be but a shoe-black yourself. An Ameri
can beggar, dressed very much like other people, walks
up to you as boldly as if his pockets were crammed with
money, and, with a half smile, that seems to say, he doubts
of the propriety of his conduct, very civilly asks you if you
can HELP him to a quarter of a dollar. He mostly
states the precise sum ; and never sinks below silver. In
short, there is no begging, properly so called. There is
nothing that resembles English begging even in the most
distant degree.
.394. I have now been here twenty months, and 1 have
been visited by only two beggars. The first was an Eng
lishman, and what was more to me, a Surrey man too ;
a native of Croydon. He asked me if 1 could help him to
a quarter of a dollar ; for, it is surprising how apt scholars
they are. " Yes," said I, " if you will help my men to do
4 'some work first." He saidhecouklnotdothat,forhe was
in a hurry. I told him, that, if a man, with a dollar a day
and pork for the tenth part of a dollar a pound, could not
earn his living, he ought to be hanged ; " however,"
said I, " as you are the first Surrey man I ever saw in
" America besides myself, if you be not hanged before this
11 day week, and come here again, I will help you to a quar-
" ter of a dollar." He came, and I kept my word. The
second beggar was an Italian. This was a personage of
" high consideration." He was introduced to the side of
my writing table. He behaved with a sort of dignified po
liteness, mixed with somewhat of reserve, as if he thought
the person to whom he was addressing himself a very good
sort of man, but of rank inferior to himself. We could
not understand each other at first ; but, we got into
French, and then we could talk. He having laid down
K 5
226' PAUPERS. [Part IL
his hat and being seated, pulled out a large pa reel of
papers, amongst which was a certificate from the Secre
tary of State of His Majesty the King of Sardinia,
duly signed and countersigned, and sealed with a seal
having the armorial bearings of that sovereign. Along
with this respectable paper was an English translation
of it, done at Mew York, and authenticated by the Mayor
and a Notary Public, with all due formality. All the
time these papers were opening, I was wondering what
this gentleman could be. I read, and stared, and read
again. I was struck not less by the novelty than the
audacity of the thing. " So then," said I, breaking-
silence, " your sovereign, after taxing you to your ruin,
" has been graciously pleased to give you credentials
" to show, that he authorizes you to beg in America;
" and, not only for yourself but for others ; so that you
" are an accredited ambassador from the beggars in
" Sardinia !" He found he was got into wrong hands ;
and endeavoured to put an end to the negociation at
once, by observing, that I was not forced to give, and
that my simple negative was enough. " I beg your
u pardon, Sir," said I, " you have submitted your case
" to me ; you have made an appeal to me ; your statc-
" ment contains reasons for my giving ; and that gives
" nie a right to shew, if I can, why I ought not to give."
He then, in order to prevent all reasoning, opened his
Subscription, or Begging-book, and said : " You see,
" Sir, others give !" " Now," said I, "You reason, but
te your reasoning is defective : for, if you were to shew
" me, that you had robbed all my neighbours without
(< their resenting it, would it follow that I must let you
" rob me too ?" " Ah ! par bleu," said he, snatching
» up his credentials, "je vois que nous &tes un avare."
— Ah ! by Old Nick, I see you are a Miser. — And off
he went ; not, however, before I had time to tell him to
bs sure to give my best respects to the king of Sardinia,
and to tell His Majesty to keep his beggars at home.
S95, I afterwards found, that cases like this are by-
no means rare ; and that, in Pennsylvania, in particular,
they have accredited beggars from all parts of the con
tinent of Europe. This may be no unuseful hint for the
Chap. XIII.] PAUPERS. 227
English Boroughmongers, who have an undoubted claim
to precedence before the German and Italian beggars.
The Boroughmongers may easily add a legation of
mendicity to their Envoyships and Consulships, without .
any great disgrace to the latter ; and, since they can get
nothing out of America by bullying and attacking, try
what can be gained by canting and begging. The chances
are, however, that many of them will, before they die, be
beggars in their own proper persons and for their own use
and behoof; and thus give a complete rounding to their
career ; plunderers in prosperity, and beggars in adversity.
396. As to the poor-rates, the real poor-rates, you
must look to the country. Jn England the poor-rates
equal in amount the rent of the land! Here, I pay, in
poor-rates, only seven dollars upon a rent of six hundred!
And I pay my full share. In short, how is it possible,
that there should be paupers to any amount, where the
common average wages of a labourer are six dollars a
week ; that is to say, twenty*seven shillings sterling, and
where the necessaries of life are, upon an average, of
half the price that they are in England ? How can a
man be a pauper, where he can earn ten pounds of
prime hog-meat a day, six days in every week ? I was
at a horse-race, where 1 saw at least rive thousand men,
and not one man in shabby clothes.
397. But, some go back after they come from Eng
land ; and the Consul at New York has thousands of
applications from men who want to go to Canada : and
little bands of them go off to thatjfrV/e country very often.
These are said to be disappointed people. Yes, they
expected the people at New York to come out in boats,
I suppose, carry them on shore, and give up their dinners
;i!id beds to them ! If they will work, they will soon
find beds and dinners : if they will not, they ought to
have none. What, did they expect to find here the same
faces and the same posts and trees that they left behind
them ? Such foolish people are not worth notice. The
lazy, whether male or female, all hate a government,
under which every one enjoys his earnings, and no more.
Low, poor and miserable as they may be, their principle
is precisely the same as that of Boroughmongers, and
228 PAUPERS. [Part II.
Priests : namely, to live without labour on the earnings
of others. The desire to live thus is almost universal ; but
with sluggards, thieves, Boroughmongers, and Priests, it
is a principle of action. Ask a Priest why he is a Priest?
He will say (for he has avowed it on the Altar !) that he
believes himself called by the Holy Ghost to take on
him the care of souls. But put the thing close to him ;
push him hard ; and you will find it was the benefice,
the money and the tithes, that called him. Ask him
what he wanted them for. That he might live, and
live, too, without work. Oh ! this work ! It is an old
saying, that, if the Devil find a fellow idle, he is sure to
set him to work ; a saying the truth of which the Priests
seem to have done their utmost to establish.
398. Of the goers back was a Mr. ONSLOW WAKE-
roRD, who was a coach-maker, some years, in Phila
delphia, and who, having, from nothing hardly to begin
with, made a comfortable fortune, went back, about the
time that I returned home. I met him, by accident, at
Goodwood, in Sussex, in 1814. • We talked about
America. Said he, " I have often thought of the foolish
" way, in which my good friend, NORTH, and I used to
" talk about the happy state of England. The money
" that I have paid in taxes here, would have kept me
i( like a gentleman there. Why," added he, " if a In-
" bowing man here wrere seen having in his possession,
<e the fowls and other things that labourers in Phila-
" delphia carry home from market, he would be stopped
" in the street, and taken up on suspicion of being a
u thief; upon the supposition of its famgimpossible that
"he could have come honestly by them." I told this
story after I got home ; and we read in the newspapers,
not long afterwards, that a Scotch Porter, in London,
who had had a little tub of butter sent him up from his
relations, and who was, in the evening, carrying it from
the vessel to his home, had actually been seized by the
Police, lodged in prison all night, brought before the
magistrate the next day, and not released until he had
produced witnesses to prove that he had not stolen a
thing, which was thought far too valuable for such a
man to come at by honest means ! What a state of
Chap. XIV.] GOVERNMENT, LAWS, &c. 229
things must that be ! What ! A man in England taken
up as a thief and crammed into prison, merely because
he was in possession of 20 pounds of butter!
399. Mr. WAKEFORD is, I dare say, alive. He is a
very worthy man. He lives at CHICHESTER. I appeal
lo him for the truth of the anecdote relating to him. As
to the butter story, I cannot name the precise date ; but,
1 seriously declare the fact to have been as I have re
lated it. I told Mr. WAKEFORD, who is a very quiet.
man, that, in order to make his lot in England as good
as it was in America, he must help us to destroy the
Boroughmongers. He left America, he told me, prin
cipally in consequence of the loss of his daughter (an
only child) at Philadelphia, where she, amongst hun
dreds and hundreds of others, fell before the desolating
lancets of 1797, 1798 and 1799.
CHAP. XIV.
GOVERNMENT, LAWS, AND RELIGION,
400. MR. PROFESSOR CHRISTIAN, who has written
great piles of Notes on Blackstone's Commentaries, and
whose Notes differ from those of the Note-writers on the
Bible, in this, that the latter only tend to add darkness
to that which was sufficiently dark before, while the
Professor's Notes, in every instance, without a single
exception, labour most arduously, and not always with
out success, to render that obscure, which was before
clear as the sun now is in Long Island, on this most
beautiful fifth of December, 1818 : this Professor, who,
1 believe, is now aJudge, has, in his Note 126 on Book I,
drawn what he calls " a distinction" between Political
aaid Civil liberty, which distinction contains as to ideas,
manner, and expressions, a complete specimen of what,
in such a case, a writer ought to avoid.
401. Leaving definitions of this sort to such con-
230 GOVERNMENT, LAWS, [Part II.
celled bunglers as the Professor, I will just give a
sketch (for it can be nothing more) of the Government
and Laws of this country.
402. The country is divided into States. Each of
these States has its own separate government, consisting
of a Governor, Legislative Body, and Judiciary De
partment. But, then there is a General Government ,
which is, in fact, the government of the whole nation ;
for, it alone can do any thing with regard to other
nations. This General Government consists of a Pre
sident, a Senate, & House of Representatives, all which
together are called the Congress. The President is
elected for four years, the Senate for 'four years, and the
House of Representatives for two years.
403. in most of the State-Governments, the election
is annual for the House of Representatives. In some
the Governor and the Senate are elected for a longer
period, not exceeding four years in any case. But, in
some, the whole, Governor, Senate, and Representatives,
are elected ANNUALLY; and this last appears now to
be the prevailing taste.
404. The Suffrage^ or qualification of electors, is
very various. In some States every free man ; that is,
every man who is not bondman or slave, has a vote. In
others, the payment of a tax is required. In others, a
man must be worth a hundred pounds. In Virginia a
man must be ^freeholder.
405. This may serve to show how little Mr. JERRY
BENTH AM, the new Mentor of the Westminster Telema-
chus, knows about the political part of the American go
vernments. Jerry, whose great, and, indeed, only argu
ment, in support of annual parliaments and universal
suffrage, is, that America is so happi/ under such a sys
tem, has, if we were to own him, furnished our enemies
with a complete answer ; for, they have, in order to silence
him, only to refer to the facts of his argument of happy
experience. By silencing him, however, I. do not
mean the stopping of his tongue, or pen ; for nothing
but mortality will ever do that. This everlasting b; fa
bler has aimed a sort of stiletto stroke at me ; for what
God knows, except it be to act a consistent part, by en-
Chap. XIV.] AND RELIGION. 2.3 !•
deavouring to murder the man whom he has so fre
quently robbed, and whose facts and thoughts, though
disguised and disgraced by the robber's quaint phraseo
logy, constitute the better part of his book. Jerry, who
was made a Reformer by PITT'S refusal to give him a
contract to build a penitentiary, and to make him prime
administrator of penance, that is to say, Beggar- Whipper
General, is a very proper person to be toasted by those,
who have plotted and conspired against Major Cart-
wright. Mr. Brougham praises Jerry : that is enough !
406. In the/bur j^eib England States, the qualifica
tion was a hundred pounds. But, one of those States,
CON N ECTICUT, has, to her great honour, recently set an
example worthy of the imitation of the other three. A new
constitution has, during this year, been formed in that
State, according to which all the elections are to be annual;
and, as to the suffrage, 1 will give it in the words of the
instrument itself: " Every male white citizen of the
" United States, who shall have gained a settlement in
this state, attained the age of twenty-one years and re
sided in the town (that is parish in the English meaning)
in which he may otter himself to be admitted to the pri
vilege of being an elector, at least six months preced
ing, and have a freehold estate of the yearly value of
" ' seven dollars in this State ;— O R, having been enrolled
" in the militia, shall have performed military duty there-
" in for the term of one year, next preceding the time he
" shall oiler himself for admission, or being liable thereto,
" shall have been, by authority of law, altogether ^excused
" therefrom ;— OR, shall have paid a State Tax within the
" year next preceding the time he shall present himself,
" for admission, and shall sustain a good moral character,
" shall, on his taking the oath prescribed, be an elector.'''
407. And then, the proof of bad moral character,
is, "a conviction of bribery, forgery, perjury, duelling,
''fraudulent bankruptcy, theft, or other offences, for
" which an infamous punishment is inflicted." By
forgery is not, of course, contemplated puff-out for
gery ; for that, as an act of resistance of oppression, is
fully justifiable : it is not only not an immoral, but it
is a meritorions act. The forgery here meant is for-
232 GOVERNMENT, LAWS, [Part II
gery committed against honest men, who, when they
"promise to pay," mean to pay, and do pay when
called upon. " Bribery" is very properly set at the
head of the disqualifications ; but, what a nest of vil
lains it would exclude in England ! White men are
mentioned, but, another clause admits all the Blacks
now free, though it shuts out future comers of that co
lour, or of the yellow hue : which is perfectly just ; for,
Connecticut is not to be the receptacle of those, whom
other States may choose to release from slavery, seeing
that she has now no slaves of her own.
408. Thus, then, this new Constitution ; a constitu
tion formed by the steadiest community in the whole
world ; a constitution dictated by the most ample expe
rience, gives to the people, as to the three branches of
the government (the Governor, Sen ate, and Representa
tives} precisely what we reformers in England ask as
to only one branch out of the three. Whoever has a
freehold worth a guinea and a half a year, though he
pay no tax, and though he be not enrolled in the mi
litia, has a vote. Whoever j^ays a tax, though he be
not enrolled in the militia, and have no freehold, has a
vote. Whoever is enrolled in the militia, though he
have no freehold and pay no tax, has a vote. So that
nothing but beggars, paupers, and criminals can ea
sily be excluded ; and, you will observe, if you please,
Messieurs Borotighmongers, that the State taxes are all
direct, and so contemptible in amount, as not to be, all
taken together, enough to satisfy the maw of a single
sinecure place-man in England ; and that the Electors
choose, and annually too, King, Lords, and Commons.
Now, mind, this change has been deliberately made by
the most deliberate people that ever lived on the earth.
New England is called, and truly, " the Land of
" Steady Habits;" but, a Connecticut man is said to
be a i( full-blooded Yankey," and Yankey means New
Englander. So that, here are the steadiest of the steady
adopting, after all their usual deliberation and precau
tion, in a time of profound tranquillity, and without any
party spirit or delusion, the plan of us " wild and
" mad" Reformers of Old England. Please God, I
Chap. XIV.] AND RELIGION. 233
will, before I go home, perform a pilgrimage into this
State !
409- In Virginia, and the States where negro slavery
exists, the slaves are reckoned amongst the population in
apportioning the seats in the General Congress. So that,
the slaves do not vote ; but, their owners have votes for
them. This is what Davis Giddy, Wilberforce, and the
spawn of the Green Room, call virtual representation.
And this, to be sure,is what Sir FRANCIS BURDETT, in
his speech at the Reading Dinner, meant by universal
INTERESTS! From universal suffrage, he came down
to genera I suffrage: this was only nonsense; bat^universal
INTERESTS is downright borough-mongering. Well
may he despair of doing any good in the House of Com
mons ! " Universal interests" is the Virginian plan ; and
in that state of things, by no means unwise or unjust; for,
it is easier to talk about freeing black slaves, than it is to
do it. Theplantersin the Southern States are not to blame
for having slaves, until some man will show how they
are to get rid of them. No one has yet discovered the
means. Virtual representation, or, in other words,
Universal interests, is as good a thing as any one can
devise for those States ; and, if Sir FRANCIS will but
boldly declare, that the people of England must ?ie-
cessarilt/ remain slaves, his joining of Davis Giddy
and Canning, will be very consistent. Let him black
the skins of the people of England, and honestly call a
part of them his property, and then he will not add the
meanest to the most dastardly apostacy.
410. The right of suffrage in America is, however,
upon the whole, sufficient to guard the people against any
general and long-existing abuse of power ; for, let it be
borne in mind, that here the people elect all the persons,
who are to exercise power ; while, even if our Reform
were obtained, there would still be two branches out of
the three, over whom the people would have no direct
control. Besides, in England, Ireland, and Scotland,
there is an established Church; a richly endowed and
powerful hierarchy ; and this, which is really a fourth
branch of the government, has nothing to resemble it
in America. So that, in this country, the whole of the
234 GOVERNMENT, LAWS, [Pariil.
Government may be truly said to be in the hands of
the people. The people are, in reality as well as in
name, represented.
411. The consequences of this are, 1st, that, if those
who are chosen do not behave well, they are not chosen
a second time ; 2nd, that there are no sinecure placemen
and place women, grantees, pensioners without services,
and big placemen who swallow the earnings of two or
three thousand men each ; 3rd, that there is no military
staff to devour more than the whole of a government ought
to cost ; 4th, that there are no proud and insolent grasp
ing Boroughmongers, who make the people toil and
sweat to keep them and their families in luxury ; 5th,
that seats in the Congress are not like stalls in Smith-
field, bought and sold, or hired out ; 6th, that the Mem
bers of Congress do not sell their votes at so much a
vote ; 7th, that there is uo waste of the public money,
and no expenses occasioned by the bribing of electors,
or by the hiring of Spies and informers ; 8th, that there
are no shootings of the people, and no legal murders
committed, in order to defend the government against
the just vengeance of an oppressed and insulted nation.
But, all is harmony, peace and prosperity. Every man
is zealous in defence of the laws, because every man
knows that he is governed by laws, to which he has
really and truly given his assent.
412. As to the nature of the laws, the Common Law
of England is the Common Law of America. These
States were formerly Colonies of England. Our Bo
roughmongers wished to tax them without their own
consent. But, the Colonies, standing upon the ancient
Laws of England, which say that no man shall be taxed
without his own consent , resisted the Boroughmongers
of that day ; overcame them in war ; cast off all de-
pendance, and became free and independent States.
But, the great man, who conducted that Revolution,
as well as the people in general, were too wise to cast
off the excellent laws of their forefathers. They, there
fore, declared, that the Common Law of England
should remain, being subject to such modifications as
might be necessary in the new circumstances in which
Chap. XIV.] AND RELIGION. 235
the people were placed. The Common Law, means,
the ancient and ordinary usages and customs of the
land with regard to the means of protecting property
and persons, and of punishing crimes. This law is no
written or printed thing. It is more ancient than
books. It had its origin in the hearts of our fore
fathers, and it has lived in the hearts of their sons, from
generation to generation. Hence it is emphatically
called the taw of the land. Juries, Judges, Courts of
Justice, Sheriffs, Constables, Head-boroughs, Hey-
wards. Justices of the Peace, and all their numerous
and useful powers and authorities, make part of this
Law of the Land. The Boroughmongers would fain
persuade us, that it is they who have given us this
Law, out of pure generosity. But, we should bear in
mind, that this Law is more ancient, and far more an
cient, than the titles of even the most ancient of their
families. And accordingly, when the present Royal
Family were placed upon the throne, there was a so
lemn declaration by the Parliament in these words :
" The Laws of England are the Birthright of the Peo-
" pie of England." The Boroughmongers, by giving
new powers to Justices of the Peace and Judges, setting
aside the trial by Jury in many cases, both of property
and person, even before the present horrible acts ; and
by a thousand other means, have, by Acts of Parliament,
greatly despoiled us of the Law of the Land ; but, never
have they given us any one good in addition to it.
413. The Americans have taken special care to prevent
the like enroachments on their rights ; so that, while
they have Courts of Justice, Juries, Judges, Sheriffs, and
the rest, as we have ; while they have all the good part
of the Laws now in force in England, they have none
of the bad. They have none of that Statute Law of
England, or Act of Parliament Law, which has robbed
us of a great part, and the best part of our " Birthright."
414. it is, as I said before, not my intention to go
much into particulars here ; but, 1 cannot refrain from
noticing, that the People of America, when they come
to settle their new governments, took special care to
draw up specific Constitutions, in which they forbade
236 GOVERNMENT, LAWS, [Part II.
any of their future law-makers to allow of any Titles
of Nobility, any Privileged Class, any Established
Church, or to pass any law to give to any body the
power of imprisoning men otherwise than in due course
of Common Law, except in cases of actual invasion or
open rebellion. And, though actual invasion took place
several times during the late war; though the Capital city
was in possession of our troops, no such law was passed.
•Such is the effect of that confidence, which a good and
just government has in the people whom it governs !
415. There is one more particular, as to the Laws
of America, 'on which, as it is of very great impor
tance, I think it right to remark. The uses, which
have been made of the Law of Libel in England are
well known. In the first place, the Common Law
knows of no such offence as that of criminal libel, for
which so many men have been so cruelly punished in
England. The crime is an invention of late date.
The Common Law punished men for breaches of the
peace, but no words, whether written or spoken, can
be a breach of the peace. 13ut, then some Borough-
monger judges said, that words might tend to produce
a breach of the peace ; and that, therefore, it was
criminal to use such words. This, though a palpable
stretch of law, did, however, by usage, become law
so far as to be acted upon in America as well as in
England ; and, when I lived in the State of PENNSYL
VANIA, eighteen years ago, the Chief Justice of that
State, finding even this law not sufficiently large, gave
it another stretch to make it fit me. Whether the
Legislature of that State will repair this act of injustice
and tyranny remains yet to be seen.
416. The State of NEW YORK, in which [ now live,
awakened, probably by the act of tyranny, to which
I allude, has taken care, by an Act of the State
passed in 1805, to put an end to those attacks on the
press by charges of constructive libel, or, at least, to
make the law such, that no man shall suffer from the
preferring of any such charges unjustly.
417. The principal effect of this twisting of the law
was, that, whether the words published were true or false
Chap. X3V.] AND RELIGION. 237
the crime of publishing was the same ; because whether
true or false, they tended to a breach of the peace ! Nay,
there was a Boroughmonger Judge in England, who had
laid it down as law , that the truer the words were, the
more criminal was the libel ; because, said he, a breach
of the peace was more likely to be produced by telling
truth of a villain, than by telling falsehood of a vir
tuous man. In point of fact, this was true enough, to
be sure ; but what an infamous doctrine ! What a base,
what an unjust mind must this man have had !
418. The State of New York, ashamed that there
should any longer be room for such miserable quib
bling; ashamed to leave the Liberty of the Press
exposed to the changes and chances of a doctrine so
hostile to common sense as well as to every principle
of freedom, passed an Act, which makes the truth of
any publication a justification of it, provided the pub
lisher can shew, that the publication wras made with
good motives and justifiable ends; and who can possibly
publish truth without being able to shew good motives
and justifiable ends ? To expose and censure tyranny,
profligacy, fraud, hypocrisy, debauchery, drunken
ness : indeed, all sorts of wickedness and folly ; and
to do this in the words of truth, must tend', cannot fail
to. tend, to check wickedness and folly, and to strengthen
and promote virtue and wisdom ; and these, and these
only, are the uses of the press. I know it has been said,
for I have heard it said, that this is going too far ; that it
would tend to lay open the private affairs of families.
And what then ? Wickedness and folly should meet their
due measure of censure, or ridicule, be they found where
they may. If the faults of private persons were too
trifling to deserve public notice, the mention of them
would give the parties no pain, and the publisher
would be despised for his tittle-tattle ; that is all. And,
if they were of a nature so grave as for the exposure
of them to give the parties pain, the exposure would
be useful, as a warning to others.
419. Amongst the persons whom I have heard ex
press a wish, to see the press what they called free, and
at the same time to extend the restraints 011 it, with
238 GOVERNMENT, LAWS, [Part II.
regard to persons in their private life, beyond the ob
ligation of adherence to truth, I have never, that I
know of, met with one, who had not some powerful
motive of his own for the wish, and who did not feel
that he had some vulnerable part about himself. The
common observation of these persons, is, that public
men are fair game. Why public men only ? Is it
because their wickedness and folly affect the public ?
And, how long has it been, I should be glad to know,
since bad example in private life has been thought of
no consequence to the public ? The press is called
" the guardian of the public morals ;" but, if it is to
meddle with none of the vices or follies of individuals
in private life, how is it to act as the guardian of the
morals of the whole community ? A press perfectly
free, reaches these vices, which the law cannot reach
without putting too much power into the hands of the
magistrate. Extinguish the press, and you must let
the magistrate into every private house. The experi
ence of the world suggests this remark : for, look where
you will, you will see virtue in all the walks of life
hand in hand with freedom of discussion, and vice
hand in hand with censorships and other laws to cramp
the press. England, once so free, so virtuous and so
happy, has seen misery and crimes increase and the
criminal laws multiply in the exact proportion of the in
crease of the restraits of the press and of the increase
of the severity in punishing what are called libels. And,
if this had not taken place it would have been very won
derful. Men who have the handling of the public money,
and who know that the parliament is such as to be silenced
will be very apt to squander that money ; this squandering
causes heavy taxes ; these produce misery amongst the
greater number of the people ; this misery produces
crimes ; to check these new penal laws are passed. Thus
it is in England, where new hanging places, new and
enlarged jails, prisons on the water, new modes of
transporting, a new species of peace officers, a new
species of Justices of the Peace, troops employed
regularly in aid of the magistrate, and at last, spies
and blood-money bands, all proclaim a real revolution
Chap. XIV.] AND RELIGION. 239
in the nature of the government. If the press had con
tinued free, these sad effects of a waste of the public
money never could have taken place ; for, the wasters of
that money would have been so exposed as to be unable
to live under the odium which the exposure would have
occasioned ; and, if the parliament had not checked
the waste and punished the wasters, the public indigna
tion would have destroyed the parliament. But, with
a muzzled press, the wasters proceeded with the con
sciousness of impunity. Say to any individual man
when he is 20 years of age : " You shall do just what
" you please with all the money of other people that you
" can, by any means, all your life long, get into your
" hands, and no one shall ever be permitted to make you
" accountable, or even to write or speak a word against
" you for any act of fraud, oppression or waste."
Should you expect such an individual to act honestly
and wisely ? Yet, this, in fact, is what a Borough-
monger Parliament and the new Law of Libel say to
every set of Ministers.
420. Before 1 quit this subject of Libel, let me ob
serve, however, that no juryman, even as the law now
stands in England is in conscience bound to find any
man guilty on a charge of criminal libel, unless the evi
dence prove that the pretended libeller has been actuated
by an evil motive, and unless it be also proved by evi
dence, that his words, spoken or written, were, scandalous
and malicious. Unless these things be clearly proved by
evidence, the juryman, who finds a man guilty, is a base,
perjured villain; and ought to be punished as such.
421. The State of Connecticut, in her new Con
stitution, before mentioned, has put this matter of libel
on the true footing ; namely ; " In all prosecutions and
" indictments for libel the TRUTH may be given in
1 ' evidence, and the Jury shall have the right to determine
" the law and the facts." Thus, then, commonsense has,
at last, got the better ; and TRUTH can, in this State,
at least, in no case, be a legal crime. But, indeed, the
press has NOW no restraint in America, other than
that imposed by TRUTH. Men publish what they
please, so long as they do not publish falsehoods, and,
even in such cases, they are generally punished by the
240 GOVERNMENT, LAWS, [Part II.
public contempt. The press is, therefore, taken altoge
ther, what the magistrate always ought to be : "a terror
to evil doers, and a reward to those who do well" But, it
is not the name of REPUBLIC that secures these or any
other of the blessings of freedom. As gross acts of tyranny
may be committed, and as base corruption practised,
under that name as under the name of absolute monar
chy. And, it becomes the people of America to guard
their minds against ever being, in any case, amused with
names. It is the fair representation of the people that
is the cause of all the good ; and, if this be obtained, 1
for my part, will never quarrel with any body about
names.
422. Taxes and Priests; for these always lay on hea
vily together. On the subject of taxes, I have perhaps,
spoken sufficiently clear before ; but, it is a great subject.
1 will on these subjects, address myself more immediately
to my old neighbours at Botley, and endeavour to make
them understand, what America is as to taxes and priests.
423. Worried, my old neighbours, as you are by
tax-gatherers of all descriptions from the County-
Collector, who rides in his coach and four, down to the
petty Window-Peeper, the little miserable spy, who is
constantly on the look out for you, as if he were a
thief-catcher and you w ere thieves ; devoured as you are
by these vermin, big and little, you will with difficulty
form an idea of the state of America in this respect.
It is a state of such blessedness, when compared with
the state of things in England, that I despair of being
able to make you fully comprehend what it is. Here
a man may make new windows, or shut up old windows
as often as he pleases, without being- compelled under
a penalty to give notice to some insolent tax-gathering
spy. Here he may keep as many horses as he likes,
he may ride them or drive them at his pleasure, he
may sell them or keep them, he may lend them or
breed from them ; he may, as far as their nature allows,
do the same with regard to his dogs ; he may employ
his servants in his house, in his stables, in his garden,
or in his fields, just as he pleases ; he may, if he be
foolish enough, have armorial bearings on his carriage,
his watch-seals, on his plate, and, if he likes, on his
Chap. XIV.] AND RELIGION. 241
ery buckets and porridge pots ; he may write his re
ceipts, his bills, his leases, his bonds, and deeds upon
unstamped paper ; his wife and daughters may wear
French gloves and lace and French and India silks ;
he may purchase or sell lands and may sue at law for
his rights : and all these, and a hundred other things,
without any dread of the interloping and insolent inter
ference of a tax-gatherer or spy of any description.
Lastly, when he dies, he can bequeath his money and
goods and houses and lands to whomsoever he pleases ;
and he can close his eyes without curses in his heart
against a rapacious band of placemen, pensioners,
grantees, sinecure holders, staff-officers, borough-job
bers, and blood-money spies, who stand ready to take
from his friends, his relations, his widow, and his chil
dren, a large part of what he leaves, under the name of
a tax upon legacies.
424. But you will ask, " are there no taxes in
" America ? " Yes ; and taxes, or public contributions
of some sort, there must be in every civilized state ;
otherwise government could not exist, and without
government there could be no security for property or
persons. The taxes in America consist principally
of custom duties imposed on goods imported into the
country. During the late war, there were taxes on
several things in the country ; but they were taken
off at the peace. In the cities and large towns, where
paving and lamps and drains and scavengers are
necessary, there are, of course, direct contributions
to defray the expense of these. There are also, of
course, county rates and road rates. But, as the
money thus raised is employed for the immediate
benefit of those who pay, and is expended amongst
themselves and under their own immediate inspection,
it does not partake of the nature of a tax. The taxes
or duties, on goods imported, yield a great sum of
money ; and owing to the persons employed in the
collection being appointed for their integrity and
ability, and not on account of their connection with any
set of bribing and corrupt boroughmongers, the whole
of the money thus collected is fairly applied to the
242 GOVERNMENT, LAWS, [Part II.
public use, and is amply sufficient for all the purpose*
of government. The army, if it can be so called, costs
but a mere trifle. It consists of a few men, who are ab
solutely necessary to keep forts from crumbling down,
and guns from rotting with rust. The navy is an object
of care, and its support and increase a cause of consi
derable expense. But the government, relying on the
good sense and valour of a people, who must hate or
disregard themselves before they can hate or disregard
that which so manifestly promotes their own happiness,
has no need to expend much on any species of warlike
preparations. The government could not stand a week, if
it were hated by the people ; nor, indeed ought it to stand
an hour. It has the hearts of the people with it, and there
fore, it need expend nothingjin blood-money, or in secret
services of any kind. Hence the cheapness of this go
vernment ; hence the small amount of the taxes ; hence
the ease and happiness of the people.
425. Great as the distance between you and me is,
my old neighbours, I very often think of you ; and
especially when I buy salt, which our neighbour
Warner used to sell us for 19s. a bushel, and which I
buy here for 25. 6d. This salt is made, you know,
down somewhere by Hambel. This very salt ; when
brought here from England, has all the charges of
freight, insurance, wharfage, storage, to pay. It pays
besides, one third of its value in duty to the American
Government before it be landed here. Then, you will
observe, there is the profit of the American Salt Mer
chant, and then that of the shopkeeper who sells me
the salt. And after all this, I buy that very Hamp
shire salt for 25. 6d. a bushel, English measure. What
a government, then, must that of the Boroughmongers
be ! The salt is a gift of God. It is thrown on the
shore. And yet these tyrants will not suffer us to use
it, until we have paid them los. a bushel for liberty to
use it. They will not suffer us to use the salt, which
God has sent us, until we have given them 155. a
bushel for them to bestow on themselves, on their
families and dependants, in the payment of the interest
of the Debt, which they have contracted, and in pay-
Chap. XIV.] AND RELIGION. 243
ing those, whom they hire to shoot at us. Yes ; England
is a fine country ; it is a glorious country ; it contains
an ingenious, industrious, a brave and warm-hearted peo
ple ; but, it is now disgraced and enslaved : it is trod
den down by these tyrants ; and we must free it. We
cannot, and we will not die their slaves.
426. Salt is not the only one of the English articles that
we buy cheaper here than in England. Glass, for in
stance, we buy for half the price that you buy it. The rea
son is, that you are compelled to pay a heavy tax, which
is not paid by us for that same glass. It is the same as to
almost every thing that comes from England. You are
compelled to pay the Boroughmongers a heavy tax on
your candles and soap. You dare not make candles and
soap, though you have the fat and the ashes in abundance.
If you attempt to do this, you are taken up and impri
soned ; and, if you resist, soldiers are brought to shoot
you. This is freedom, is it? Now, we here, make our
own candles and soap. Farmers sometimes sell soap and
candles ; but they never buy any. A labouring man, or
a mechanic, buys a sheep now and then. Three or four
days' work will buy a labourer a sheep to weigh sixty
pounds, with seven or eight pounds of loose fat. The
meat keeps very well, in winter, for a long time. The
wool makes stockings. And the loose fat is made into
candles and soap. The year before I left Hampshire, a
poor woman at Holly Hill had dipped some rushes in
grease to use instead of candles. An Exciseman found
it out ; went and ransacked her house ; and told her,
that, if the rushes had had another dip, they would
have been candles, and she must have gone to jail !
Why, my friends, if such a thing were told here, nobody
would believe it. The Americans could not bring their
minds to believe, that Englishmen would submit to such
atrocious, such degrading tyranny.
427. I have had living with me an Englishman, who
smokes tobacco ; and he tells me, that he can buy as
much tobacco here for three cents ; that is, about three
English half-pence, as he could buy in England for
three shillings. The leather has no tax on it "here; so
that, though the shoe-maker is paid a high price for his
L 2
244 GOVERNMENT, LAWS, [Part IL
labour, the labouring man gets his shoes very cheap. In
short, there is no excise here ; no property tax ; no as
sessed taxes. We have no such men here as Chiddel
and Billy Tovery to come and take our money from us.
No window peepers. No spies to keep a look-out as to
our carriages and horses and dogs. Our dogs that came
from Botley now run about free from the spying of tax-
gatherers. We may wear hair-powder if we like without
paying for it, and a boy in our houses may whet our
knives without our paying two pounds a year for it.
428. But, then, we have not the honour of being co
vered over with the dust, kicked up by the horses and
raised by the carriage-wheels of such men as old Old
GEORGE ROSE and Old GARNIER, each of whom has
pocketted more than three hundred thousand pounds of
the public, that is to say, the people's money. There are
no such men here. Those who receive public money
here, do something for it. They earn it. They are
no richer than other people. The Judges here are plain
dressed men. They go about with no sort of parade.
They are dressed, on the Bench, like other men. The
lawyers the same. Here are no black gowns and scarlet
gowns and big foolish-looking wigs. Yet, in the whole
world, there is not so well behaved, so orderly, so
steady a people ; a people so obedient to the law. But,
it is the law only that they will bow to. They will bow to
nothing else. And, they bow with reverence to the law,
because they luiowitto be just, and because it is made
by men, whom they have all had a hand in choosing,
429. And, then, think of the tithes ! I have talked to
several farmers here about the tithes in England, and
they laugh. They sometimes almost make me angry ;
for they seem, at last, not to believe what 1 say, when
I tell them that the English farmer gives, and is com
pelled to give, the Parson a tenth part of his whole
crop and of his fruit and milk and eggs and calves and
lambs and pigs and wool and honey. They cannoj
believe this. They treat it as a sort of romance. I
sometimes almost wish them to be farmers in England.
I said to a neighbour the other day, in half anger: " I
" wish your farm were at Botley. There is a fellow
Chap. XIV ] AND RELIGION. 245
" there who would soon let you know, that your fine
<c apple-trees do not belong to you. He would have his
" nose in your sheep-fold, your calf-pens, your milk-
" pails, your sow's bed, if not in the sow herself. Your
" daughters would have no occasion to hunt out the
" hen's nests : he would do that for them," And then
I gave them a proof of an English Parson's vigilance
by telling them the story of Baker's peeping out the
name, marked on the sack, which the old woman was
wearing as a petticoat. To another of my neighbours,
who is very proud of the circumstance of his grandfa
ther being an Englishman, as, indeed, most of the Ame
ricans are, who are descended from Englishmen : to this
neighbour I was telling the story about the poor woman
at Holly Hill, who had nearly dipped her rushes once
too often. He is a very grave and religious man. He
looked very seriously at me, and said, that falsehood
was falsehood, whether in jest or earnest. But, when
I invited him to come to my house, and told him, that I
would show him the acts which the borough-men had
made to put us in jail if we made our own soap and
candles, he was quite astonished. " What !" said he,
" and is Old England really come to this ! Is the land
" of our forefathers brought to this state of abject sla-
" very ! Well, Mr. Cobbett,! confess, that I was always
" for King George, during our Revolutionary war ; but,
u I believe all was for the best ; for, if 1 had had my
" wishes, he might have treated us as he now treats
" the people of England." " Pie /" said I. " It is
a not he ; he, poor man, does nothing to the people,
" and never has done any thing to the people. He has
" no power more than you have. None of his family
" have any. All put together, they have not a thou-
" sandth part so much as I have; for, I am able, though
" here, to annoy our tyrants, to make them less easy
u than they would be ; but, these tyrants care no more
" for the Royal Family than they do for so many posts
" or logs of wood." And then I explained to him who
and what the Boroughmongers were, and how they op
pressed us and the king too. I told him how they dis
posed of the Church livings, and in short, explained to
£46 GOVERNMENT, LAWS, [Part II,
him all their arts and all their cruelties. He was exceed
ingly shocked ; but was glad, at any rate to know the truth.
430. When i was, last winter, in the neighbourhood of
Harrisburgh in Pennsylvania, I saw some hop-planters.
They grow prodigious quantities of hops. They are
obliged to put their hills so wide apart, that they can have
only four hundred hills upon an acre ; and yet they grow
three thousand pounds of hops upon an acre, with no ma
nure and with once ploughing in the year. When 1 told
them about the price of hops in England and about the
difficulty of raising them, they were greatly surprised ;
but, what was their astonishment when I told them about
the hop-poles of CHALCRAFT at Curbridge ! The hop
is naturally a weed in England as well as in America*
Two or three vines had come up out of Chalcraft's garden
hedge, a few years ago. Chalcraft put poles to them •
and, there might be a pound or two of hops on these poles.
J ust before the time of gathering, one of the spies called
Excisemen called on Chalcraft and asked him why he
did not enter his hops. Chalcraft did not understand ;
but answered, he meant to take them in shortly though
he did not think they were yet quite ripe. " Aye,"
said the Exciseman, " but I mean, when do you mean
" to enter them at the excise office ?" Chalcraft did not
know (not living in a hop-country,) that he had already
incurred a penalty for not reporting to the tyrants that
he had hops growing in his garden hedge ! He did not
know, that he could not gather them and put them by
without giving notice, under a penalty of fifty pounds.
He did not know, that he could not receive this little
gift of God without paying money to the Boroughrnongers
in the shape of tax ; and, to the Parson in the shape of
tithe, or, to give a tenth of the hops to the Parson, and
not dare pick a single hop till he had sent notice to the
Parson ! What he did, upon this occasion, I have for
gotten ; but, it is likely that he let the hops stand and
rot, or cut them down and flung them away as weeds.
Now, poor men in England are told to be content with
rags and hungry bellies, for that is their lot ; that " it
" has pleased Divine Providence to place them in that
" state." But, here is a, striking instance of the false,-
. XIV.] AND RELIGION, 247
hood and blasphemy of this Doctrine ; for, Providence
had sent Chalcraft the hops, and he had put poles to
them. Providence had brought the hops to perfection; but
then came the Boroughmongers and the Parson to take
from this poor man this boon of a benevolent Maker. What,
did God order a tax with all its vexatious regulations, to be
imposed upon what he had freely given to this poor man ?
Did God ordain that, in addition to this tax, a tenth should
beyielded to a Parson, who had solemnlyvowed athis ordi
nation that he believed himself called, not by the love of
tithes, but by " the Holy Ghost, to take on him the cure
"of souls." and to " bring stray sheep into the fold of the
"Lord ?" Did God ordain these things ? Had it pleased
Gorftodothis? What impunity, what blasphemy, then,
to ascribe toProvidencethe manifold sufferings occasioned
by the Boroughmongers' taxes and Parsons' tithes !
43 1 . But, my Botley neighbours, you will exclaim,
" No tithes f Why then, there can be no Churches and
" no Parsons! The people must know nothing of God
" or devil ; and must all go to hell !" By no means, my
friends. Here are plenty of Churches. No less than
three Episcopal (or English) Churches ; three Presby
terian Churches ; three Lutheran Churches ; one or
two Quaker Meeting-houses : and two Methodist
Places ; all within six miles of the spot where I am
sitting. And, these, mind, not poor shabby Churches ;
but each of them larger and better built and far hand
somer than Botley Church, with the church-yards all
kept in the neatest order, with a headstone to almost
every grave. As to the Quaker Meeting-house it would
take Botley Church into its belly, if you were first to
knock off the steeple.
432. Oh, no ! Tithes are not necessary to promote
religion. When our Parsons, such as Baker, talk about
religion, or the church, being in danger ; they mean,
that the tithes are in danger. They mean, that they
are in danger of being compelled to work for their
bread. This is what they mean. You remember, that,
at our last meeting at W7 inches, ter, they proposed for us
to tell the Prince Regent, that we should support the
Church. I moved, to leave out the word churchy and
248 GOVERNMENT, LAWS, [Part If,
insert the word tithes ; for, as there were many presby-
terians and other dissenters present, they could not, with
clear consciences, pledge themselves to support the
church. This made them furious. It was lifting up the
mask ; and the parsons were enraged beyond measure.
433. Oh, no ! Tithes d& not meats religion. Religion
means a reverence for God, And, what has thb to do
with tithes ? Why cannot you reverence God, without Ba
ker and his wife and children eating up a tenth part of the
corn and milk and eggs and lambs and pigs and calves that
are produced in Botley parish? The Parsons, in this coun
try, are supported by those who choose to employ them.
A man belongs to what congregation he pleases. He
pays what is required by the rules of the congregation.
And, if he think that it is not necessary for him to belong
to any congregation, he pays nothing at all. And, the con
sequence is, thatall is harmony and good neighbourhood.
Here are no disputes about religion ; or, if there be, they
make no noise. Here is no ill-will on this account. A
man is never asked what religion he is of, or whether he be
of any religion at all. It is a matter that nobody interferes
in. Whatneed, therefore, is there of an established Church?
What need is there of tithes ? And, why should not that
species of property be taken for public use? That is to
say, as far as it has any thing to do with religion ? I
know very well, that tithes do not operate as many
people pretend ; I know that those who complain most
about them have the least right to complain ; but, for
my present purpose, it is sufficient to shew, that they
have nothing to do with religion.
434. If, indeed, the Americans were wicked, disor
derly, criminal people, and, of course, a miserable and
foolish people : then we might doubt upon the subject:
then we might possibly suppose, that their wickedness
and misery arose, in some degree, at least, from the
want of tithes. But, the contrary is the fact. They
are the most orderly, sensible, and least criminal people
in the whole world. A common labouring man has the
feelings of a man of honour ; he never thinks of vio
lating the laws ; he crawls to nobody ; he will call every
man Sir, but he will call no man master. When h$
Chap. XLV.] AND RELIGIOY. 249
utter words of respect towards any one, they do not
proceed from fear or hope, but from civility and sin
cerity. A native American labourer is never rude towards
his employer, but he is never cringing.
43d. However, the best proof of theinutility of an es
tablished Church is the absence of crimes in this country,
compared to the state of England in that respect. There
have not been three felonies tried in this country since I
arrived in it. The Court-house is at two miles from me.
An Irishman was tried for forgery in the summer of 1817,
and the whole country was alive to go and witness the
novelty. I have not heard of a man being hanged in the
whole of the United States since my arrival. The
Boroughmongers. in answer to statements like these, say
that this is a thinly inhabited country. This very coun
try is more thickly settled than Hampshire. The ad
joining country, towards the city of New York is much
more thickly settled than Hampshire. New York itself
and its immediate environs contain nearly two hundred
thousand inhabitants, and after London, is, perhaps, the
first commerical and maritime city in the world. Thou
sands of sailors, ship-carpenters, dock-yard people, dray
men, boat-men, crowd its wharfs and quays. Yet, never
do we hear of hanging ; scarcely ever of a robbery ; men
go to bed with scarcely locking their doors ; and never
is there seen in the streets what is called in England, a girl
of the town ; and what is still more, never is there seen in
those streets a beggar. I wish you, my old neighbours,
could see this city of New York. Portsmouth and
Gosport, taken together, are miserable holes compared
to it. Man's imagination can fancy nothing so beauti
ful as its bay and port, from which two immense rivers
sweep up on the sides of the point of land, on which
the city is. These rivers are continually covered with
vessels of various sizes bringing the produce of the land,
while the bay is scarcely less covered with ships going
in and out from all parts of the world. The city itself
is a scene of opulence and industry ; riches without
insolence, and labour without grudging.
436. What Englishman can contemplate this brilliant
sight without feeling some little pride that this city
L 5
GOVERNMENT, LAWS, [Part II.
bears an English name ? But,thoughtsof more importance
ought to fill his mind. He ought to contrast the ease, the
happiness, the absence of crime which prevail here, with
the incessant anxieties, the miseries and murderous works
in England. In his search after causes he will find them no
where but in the government : and, as to an established
church, if he find no sound argument to prove it to be an
evil ; at the very least he must conclude, that it is not a
good : and of course, that property to the amount of five
millions a-year is very unjustly as well as unwisely
bestowed on its clergy.
437. Nor, let it be said, that the people here are of a
better natural disposition than the people of England are.
How can it be ? They are, the far greater part of them,
the immediate descendants of Englishmen, Irishmen, and
Scotsmen. Nay, in the city of New York it is supposed,
that full half of the labour is performed by natives of Ire
land, while men of that Island make a great figure in
trade at the bar, and in all t! e various pursuits of life. They
have their Romish Chapels there in great brilliancy ; and
they enjoy " Catholic Emancipation" without any pe
titioning or any wrangling. In short, blindfold an English
man and convey him to New York, unbind his eyes, and
he will think himself in an English city. The same sort
of streets ; shops precisely the same ; the same beautiful
and modest women crowding in and out of them ; the
same play-houses ; the same men, same dress, same lan
guage : he will miss by day only the nobility and the beg
gars, and by night only the street-walkers and pickpockets.
These ar« to be found only where there is an established
clergy, upheld by what is called the state, and which word
means, in England, the Borough-mongers.
438. Away, then, my friends, with all cant about the
church, and the church being in danger. If the church,
that is to say, the tithes, were completely abolished ; if
they and all the immense property of the church, were
taken and applied to public use, there would not be a
sermon or a prayer the less. Not only the Bible but the
very Prayer-book is in use here as much as in Eng
land, and, I believe, a great deal more. Why give the
five millions a year then, to parsons and their wives and
Chap XIV.] AND RELIGION.
children ? Since the English, Irish, and Scotch, are so
good, so religious, and so moral here without glebes and
tithes ; why not use these glebes and tithes for other
purposes, seeing they are possessions which can legally
be disposed of in another manner ?
439. But, the fact is, that it is the circumstance of
the church being established by law that makes it of
little-use as to real religion, and as to morals, as far as they
be connected with religion. Because, as we shall presently
see, this establishment forces upon the people parsons
whom they cannot respect, and whom indeed, they must
despise ; and, it is easy to conceive, that the moral precepts
of those, whom we despise on account of their immorality,
we shall never much attend to, even supposing the pre
cepts themselves to be good. If a precept be self-evi-
dently good ; if it be an obvious duty which the parson
inculcates, the inculcation is useless to us, because, when
ever it is wanted to guide us, it will occur without the
suggestion of any one ; and, if the precept be not self-evi-
dently good, we shall never receive it as such from the
lips of a man, whose character and life tell us we ought
to suspect the truth of every thing he utters. When the
matters as to which we are receiving instructions aie,in their
nature, wholly dissimilar to those as to which we have
witnessed the conduct of the teacher, we may reasonably,
in listening to the precept, disregard that conduct.
Because, for instance, a man, though a very indifferent
Christian, may be a most able soldier,seaman5 physician,
lawyer, or almost any thing else ; and what is more, may
be honest and zealous in the discharge of his duty in any
of these several capacities. But, when the conduct, which
we have observed in the teacher, belongs to the same
department of life as the precept which he is delivering,
if the one differ from the other we cannot believe the
teacher to be sincere, unless he, while he enforces his
precept upon us, acknowledge his own misconduct.
Suppose me, for instance, to be a great liar, as great a
liar,if possible, as STEWART of the COURIER, who has
said that I have been " fined 700 dollars for writing
" against the American government," though I never
was prosecuted in America in all my life. Suppose me
GOVERNMENT, LAWS, [Part IL
to be as great a liar as STEWART, and I were to be
told by a parson, whom I knew to be as great a liar as
myself, that I should certainly go to hell if I did not
leave off lying. Would his words have any effect upon
me ? No : because I should conclude, that if he thought
what he said, he would not be such a liar himself. I
should rely upon the parson generally, or I should not.
If I did^I should think myself safe until I out-lied him ;
and, if 1 did not rely on him generally, of what use
would he be to me ?
440. Thus, then, if men be sincere about religion ; if
it be not all a mere matter of form, it must always be
of the greatest consequence, that the example of the
teacher correspond with his teaching. And the most
likely way to insure this, is to manage things so that he
may, in the first place, be selected by the people, and,
in the second place, have no rewards in view other than
those which are to be given in consequence of his per
severance in a line of good conduct.
441. And thus it is with the clergy in America, who
are duly and amply rewarded for their deligence, and
very justly respected for the piety, talent, and zeal which
they discover ; but, who have no tenure of their places
other than that of the will of the congregation. Hence it
rarely indeed happens, that there is seen amongst them
an impious, an immoral, or a despicable man. Whether
the teaching of even these Reverend persons have any very
great effect in producing virtue and happiness amongst
men, is a question upon which men may, without deserv
ing to be burnt alive, take the liberty to differ ; especially
since the world has constantly before its eyes a society,
who excel in all the Christian virtues, who practice that
simplicity which others teach, who, in the great work of
charity, really and truly hide from the left hand that which
the right hand doeth ; and who know nothing of Bishop,
Priest, Deacon, or Teacher of any description. Yes, since
we have the Quakers constantly before oureyes, we may,
v\ ithout deserving to be burnt alive, question the utility
of paying any parsons or religious teachers at all. But,
the worst of it is, we are apt to confound things ; as we
have, by a figure of speech, got to call a building a
Chap. XIV.] AND RELIGION.
church, when a church really means a body of people ;
so we are apt to look upon thepriest as being religious,
and especially when we call him the reverend: and, it
often sadly occurs that no two things can be wider from
each other in this quality. Some writer has said, that
he would willingly leave to the clergy every thing above
the tops of the chimneys ; which, perhaps, was making
their possessions rather too ethereal ; but, since our law
calls them "spiritual persons?' since they profess, that
"their kingdom is not of this world," and, since those of
our church have solemnly declared, that they believed
themselves to be called to the ministry " by the Holy
" Ghost;" it is, I think, a little out of character for
them to come poking and grunting and grumbling about
after our eggs, potatoes, and sucking pigs.
442. However, upon the general question of the
utility or non-utility of paid religious teachers, let men
decide for themselves ; but if teachers be to be paid, it
seems a clear point, in my mind, that they should be
paid upon the American plan : and this, 1 think, must
be obvious to every one, who is able to take a view of
the English Clergy. They are appointed by the abso
lute will of the Boroughmongers. They care nothing
for the good will of their congregation or parish, it is
as good to them to be hated by their parishioners as to
be loved by them. They very frequently never even see
their parish more than once in four or five years. They
solemnly declare at the altar, that they believe themselves
called by the Holy Ghost to take on them the cure of
souls : they get possession of a living ; and leave the
cure of souls to some curate, to whom they give a tenth
part, perhaps, of the income. Many of them have /wo
livings, at thirty miles distance from each other. They
live at neither very frequently ; and, when they do, they
only add to the annoyance which their curate gives.
443. As to their general character and conduct ; in
what public transaction of pre-eminent scandal have
they not taken a part ? Who were found most intimate
with Mrs. CLARKE, and most busy in her commission
dealing affairs ? Clergymen of the Church of England.
This is notorious. Miss TOCKER tells of the two livings
1254 GOVERNMENT, LAWS, [Part 11.
.given to PAH SON GURNEY for his electioneering works
in Cornwall. And, indeed, all over the country, they
have been and are the prime agents of the Boroughmon-
gers. Recently they have been the tools of Sidmouth
for gagging the press in the country parts of the kingdom.
Powis and Guillim were the prosecutors of Messrs.
Pilling and Melor ; and for which if they be not made
to answer, the kingdom ought to be destroyed. They
are leading men at Pitt Clubs all over the country ; they
were the foremost to defend the peculation of Melville.
In short, there has been no public man guilty of an
infamous act, of whom they have>not taken the part;
and no act of tyranny of which they have not been the
eulogists and the principal instrument.
444. But, why do I attempt to describe Parsons to
Hampshire men ? You saw them all assemble in grand
cohort the last time that 1 saw any of you. You saw
them at Winchester, when they brought forward their
lying address to the Regent. You saw them on that
day, and so did I ; and in them 1 saw a band of more
complete blackguards than I ever before saw in all my
life. I then saw Parson Baines of Exton, standing up
in a chair arid actually spitting in Lord Cochrane's
poll, while the latter w7as bending his neck out to speak.
Lord Cochrane looked round and said, " By G — Sir,
« if you do that again I'll knock you down." " You
« be d— d, " said Baines, " I'll spit where 1 like."
Lord Cochrane struck at him ; Baines jumped down,
put his two hands to his mouth in a huntsman-like way,
and cried "\\hoop! whoop!" till he was actually
black in the face. One of them trampled upon my heel as
I was speaking. I looked round and begged him to leave
off. " You be d — d," said he, (< you be d — d, Jacobin."
He then tried to press on me, to stifle my voice, till I
clapped my elbow into his ribs and made " the spiritual
•" person" hiccup. There were about twenty of them
mounted upon a large table in the room ; and there
they jumped, stamped, hallooed, roared, thumped with
canes and umbrellas, squalled, whistled, and made all
sorts of noises. As Lord Cochrane and I were going
back to London, he said that, so many years as he had
Chap. XIV.l AND RELIGION. 255
been in the navy, he never had seen a band of sueh com
plete blackguards. And 1 said the same for the army.
And, I declare, that, in the whole course of my life, I
have never seen any men, drunk or sober, behave in so in
famous a manner. Mr. PHILLIPS, of Eling, (now Doctor
Phillips) whom I saw standing in the room, 1 tapped on
the shoulder, and asked whether he was not ashamed.
Mr. LEE, of the College ; Mr. OGLE, of Bishop's Wal-
tham ; and DOCTOR HILL, of Southampton: these were
exceptions. Perhaps there might be some others ; but the
mass was the most audacious, foul, and atrocious body of
mea I ever saw. We had done nothing to offend them.
We had proposed nothing to offend them in the smallest
degree. But, they were afraid of our speeches : they knew
they could not answer us ; and they were resolved, that,
if possible, we should not be heard. There was one par
son, who had his mouth within a foot of Lord Cochrane's
ear, all the time his Lordship was speaking, and who
kept on saying, " You lie ! you lie ! you lie ! you lie /"
as loud as he could utter the words.
445. BAKER, the Botley Parson, was extremely busy.
He acted the part of buffoon to LOCKIIART. He kept
capering about behind him, and really seemed like a
merry andrew rather than a " spiritual person"
446. Such is the character of the great body of Hamp
shire Parsons. I know of no body of men so despica
ble, and yet, what sums of public money do they swallow !
It now remains for me to speak more particularly of BA
KER, he who, for your sins I suppose, is fastened upon
you as your Parson. But what i have to say of this man
must be the subject of another Letter. That it should be
the subject of any letter at all may well surprise all who
know the man ; for not one creature knows him without
despising him. But, it is not BAKER, it is the scandalous
priest, that I strike at. It is the impudent, profligate,
hardened priest that I will hold up to public scorn.
447. When I see the good and kind people here
going to church to listen to some decent man of good
moral character and of sober quiet life, I always think
of you. You are just the same sort of people as they
are here ; but, what a difference in the Clergyman !
256 GOVERNMENT, LAWS, &c. [Part II.
What a difference between the sober, sedate, friendly
man who preaches to one of these congregations, and
the greedy, chattering, lying, backbiting, mischief-mak
ing, everlasting plague, that you go to hear, and are
compelled to hear, or stay away from the church. Baker
always puts me in mind of the Magpie.
The Magpie, bird of chatt'ring fame,
Whose tongue and hue bespeak his name ;
The first a squalling clam'rous clack,
The last made up of white arid black ;
Feeder alike onjflesh and corn,
Greedy alike at eve and morn;
Of all the birds the prying pest,
Must needs be Parson o'er the rest.
448. Thus I began a fable, when I lived at Botley,
I have forgotten the rest of it. It will please you to
hear that there are no Magpies in America ; but, it will
please you still more to hear, that no men that resem
ble them are parsons here. I have sometimes been
half tempted to believe, that the Magpie first suggested
to tyrants the idea of having a tithe-eating Clergy.
The Magpie devours the corn and grain ; so does the
Parson. The Magpie takes the wool from the sheep's
backs ; so does the Parson. The Magpie devours alike
the young animals and the eggs ; so does the Parson.
The Magpie's clack is everlastingly going ; so is the Par
son's. The Magpie repeats by rote words that are taught
it ; so does the Parson. The Magpie is always skipping
and hopping and peeping into other's nests ; so is the
Parson. The Magpie's colour is partly black and partly
white ; so is the Parson's. The Magpie's greediness, im
pudence, and cruelty are proverbial ; so are those of the
Parson. 1 was saying to a farmer the other day, that if
the Boroughmongers had a mind to ruin America, they
would another time, send over five or six good large flocks
of Magpies, instead of five or six of their armies ; but,
upon second thought, they would do the thing far more
effectually by sending over five or six flocks of their Par
sons, and getting the people to receive them and che
rish them as the Bulwark of religion.
END OF PART II.
YEAR'S RESIDENCE,
IN THE
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.
PART III.
Containing, — Mr. Hulme's Introduction to his Journal — Mr. Hulme's
Journal, made during a Tour in the Western Countries of America,
in which Tour he visited Mr. Birkbeck's Settlement — Mr. Cobbett's
Letters to Mr. Birkbeck, remonstrating with that Gentleman on
the numerous delusions, contained in his two publications, entitled
" Notes on a Journey in America" and " Letters from Illinois" —
Postscript, being the detail of an experiment made in the cultivation
of the Ruta Baga — Second Postscript, a Refutation of Fearon's
Falsehoods.
[259]
DEDICATION
To TIMOTHY BROWN, Escj,
OF PECKHAM LODGE, SURREY.
North Hempsteadi Long Island,
10M Dec. 1818.
MY DEAR SIB,
THE little volume here presented to the pub«
lie, consists, as you will perceive, for the greater
and most valuable part, of travelling- notes made
by our friend HULME, whom I had the honour
to introduce to you in 1816, and with whom
you were so much pleased.
His activity, which nothing can benumb ; his
zeal against the twin monster, tyranny and
priestcraft, which nothing can cool ; arid his de
sire to assist in providing a place of retreat
for the oppressed, which nothing but the suc
cess in the accomplishment can satisfy ; these
have induced him to employ almost the whole
of his time here in various ways all tending to
the same point.
The Boroughmongers have agents and spies
all over the inhabited globe. Here they can
not sell blood : they can only collect informa
tion and caluminiate the people of both coun
tries, These vermin our friend firks out (as
the Hampshire people call it) ; and they hate
him as rats hate a terrier.
Amongst his other labours, he has perform
ed a very laborious journey to the Western
Countries, and has been as far as the Colony
260 DEDICATION.
of our friend BIRKBECK. This journey has
produced a JOURNAL ; and this Journal,
along with the rest of the volume, I dedicate
to you in testimony of my constant remem
brance of the many, many happy hours I have
spent with you, and of the numerous acts of
kindness which I have received at your hands.
You were one of those, who sought acquaint
ance with me, when I was shut up in a felon's
jail/br two years for having expressed my in
dignation at seeing Englishmen flogged, in
the heart of England, under a guard of German
bayonets and sabres, and when I had on my
head a thousand pounds fine and seven years re
cognizances. You, at the end of the two
years, took me from the prison, in your car
riage, home to your house. You and our kind
friend, WALKER, are even yet, held in bonds for
my good behaviour, the seven years not being
expired. All these things are written in the
very core of my heart ; and when I act as if I
had forgotten any one of them, may no name
on earth be so much detested and despised as
that of
Your faithful friend,
And most obedient servant,
WM. COBBETT
[261 ]
PREFACE
TO THE
THIRD PART.
449. IN giving an account of the United
States of America, it would not have been
proper to omit saying something of the Western
Countries, the Newest of the New Worlds,, to
which so many thousands and hundreds of
thousands are flocking, and towards which the
writings of Mr. Birkbeck have, of late, drawn
the pointed attention of all those Englishmen,
who, having something left to be robbed of,
and wishing to preserve it, are looking towards
America as a place of refuge from the
Boroughmongersandthe Holy Alliance, which
latter, to make the compact complete, seems
to want nothing but the accession of His Sata
nic Majesty.
450. I could not go to the Western Coun
tries ; and the accounts of others were sel
dom to be relied on ; because, scarcely any
man goes thither without some degree of par
tiality, or comes back without being tainted
with some little matter, at least, of self-in
terest. Yet, it was desirable to make an at
tempt, at least, towards settling the question :
' ( Whether the Atlantic, or the Western, Coun-
" tries were the best for English Farmers to
" settle in." Therefore, when Mr. HULME pro
posed to make a Western Tour, I was very
262 PREFACE.
much pleased, seeing that, of all the men I
knew, he was the most likely to bring us back
an impartial account of what he should see.
His great knowledge of farming as well as of
manufacturing affairs ; his capacity of estimat
ing local advantages and disadvantages ; the
natural turn of his mind for discovering the
means of applying to the use of man all that is
furnished by the earth, the air, and water; the
patience and perseverance with which he pur
sues all his inquiries ; the urbanity of his man
ners, which opens to him all the sources of in
formation; his inflexible adherence to truth: all
these marked him out as the man on whom the
public might safely rely.
451. J, therefore, give his- Journal, made
during his tour. He offers no opinion as to the
question above stated. That I shall do; and
when the reader has gone through the Journal
he will find my opinions as to that question,
which opinions I have stated in a Letter addres
sed to Mr. BIRKBECK.
452. The American reader will perceive, that
this Letter is intended principally for the peru
sal of Englishmen ; and, therefore, he must not
be surprised if he finds a little bickering in a
group so much of a family cast.
WM. COBBETT.
North Hempstead,
10M December, 1818.
YEAR'S RESIDENCE,
fyc.
INTRODUCTION TO THE JOURNAL.
Philadelphia, 30th Sept. 1818.
453. IT seems necessary, by way of Introduction to
the following Journal, to say some little matter respect
ing the author of it, and also respecting his motives for
wishing it to be published.
454. As to the first, I am an Englishman by birth
and parentage ; and am of the county of Lancaster, i
was bred and brought up at farming work, and became
an apprentice to the business of Bleacher, at the age
of 14 years. My own industry made me a master-
bleacher, in which state I lived many years at Great
Lever, near Bolton, where I employed about 140 men,
women, and children, and had generally about 40 ap
prentices, by this business, pursued with incessant ap
plication, I had acquired, several years ago, property to
an amount sufficient to satisfy any man of moderate
desires.
455. But, along with my money my children had
come and had gone on increasing to the number of nine.
New duties now arose, and demanded my best atten
tion. It was not sufficient that I was likely to have a
decent fortune for each child. I was bound to provide,
if possible, against my children being stripped of what I
had earned for them. 1, therefore, looked seriously at
the situation of England ; and, 1 saw, that the incomes
of my children were all pawned (as my friend Cobbett
truly calls it) to pay the Debts of the Borough, or seat,
owners. 1 saw that, of whatever I might be able to
INTRODUCTION TO THE JOURNAL,
give to my children, as well as of what they might be
able to earn, more than one half would be taken away
to feed pensioned Lords and Ladies, Soldiers to shoot
at us, Parsons to persecute us, and Fundholders, who
had lent their money to be applied to purposes of en
slaving us. This view of the mattes was sufficient to
induce the father of nine children to think of the means
of rescuing them from the consequences, which com
mon sense taught him to apprehend. But, there were
other considerations, which operated with me in pro
ducing my emigration to America.
456. In the year 1811 and 1812 the part of the coun
try, in which I lived, was placed under a new sort of
law; or, in other words, it was placed out of the pro
tection of the old law of the land. Men were seized,
dragged to prison, treated like convicts, many trans
ported and put to death, without having committed any
thing, which the law of the land deems a crime. It was
then that the infamous Spy-System was again set to
work in Lancashire, in which horrid system FLETCHER
of Bolton was one of the principal actors, or, rather,
organizers and promoters. At this time I endeavoured
to detect the machinations of these dealers in human
blood ; and, I narrowly escaped being sacrificed myself
on the testimony of two men, who had their pardon
offered them on condition of their swearing against me.
The men refused, and were transported, leaving wives
and children to starve.
457. Upon this occasion, my friend DOCTOR TAY
LOR, most humanely, and with his usual zeal and talent,
laboured to counteract the works of FLETCHER and his
associates. The DOCTOR published a pamphlet on the
subject, in 1812, which every Englishman should read.
I, as far as I was able, co-operated with him. We
went to London, laid the real facts before several mem
bers of the two houses of Parliament ; and, in some de
gree, checked the progress of the dealers in bloocJ. I
had an interview with Lord Holland, and told him,
that, if he would pledge himself to cause the secret-
service money to be kept in London, 1 would pledge
myself for the keeping of the peace in Lancashire. In
INTRODUCTION TO THE JOURNAL. 265
short, it was necessary, in order to support the tyranny
of the seat-sellers, that terror should prevail in the po
pulous districts. Blood was wanted to flow; and mo
ney was giv.en to spies to tempt men into what the new
law .bad made crimes.
458. From this time I resolved not to leave my chil
dren in such a state of things, unless I should be taken
off very suddenly. 1 saw no hope of obtaining a Re
form of the Parliament, without which it was clear to
me, that the people of England must continue to work
solely for the benefit of the great insolent families, whom
I hated for their injustice and rapacity, and despised for
their meanness and ignorance. I saw, in them, a mass
of debauched and worthless beings, having at their com
mand an army to compel the people to surrender to
them the fruits of their industry ; and in addition, a body
existing under the garb of religion, almost as despica
ble in point of character, and still more malignant.
459. I could not have died in peace, leaving my
children the slaves of such a set of beings ; and 1 could
not live in peace, knowing, that at any hour, I might
die and so leave my family. Therefore 1 resolved, like
the Lark in the fable, to remove my brood, which was
still more numerous than that of the Lark. While the
war was going on between England and America, 1
could not come to this country. Besides, I had great
affairs to arrange. In 1816, having made my prepara
tions, I set off", not with my family ; for that I did not
think a prudent step. It was necessary for me to see
what America really was. I therefore, came for that
purpose.
460. 1 was well pleased with America, over a consi
derable part of which I travelled. I saw an absence of
human misery. I saw a government taking away a very
Tery small portion of men's earnings. I saw ease and
happiness and a fearless utterance of thought every
where prevail. 1 saw laws like those of the old laics of
England, every where obeyed with cheerfulness and held
in veneration. I heard of no mobs, no riots, no spies,
no transportings, no hangings. I saw those very Irish,
to keep whom in order, such murderous laws exist in
266 INTRODUCTION TO THE JOURNAL.
Ireland, here good, peaceable, industrious citizens. I
saw no placemen and pensioners, riding the people un
der foot. I saw no greedy Priesthood, fattening on the
fruits of labour in which they had never participated,
and which fruits they seized in despite of the peo
ple. I saw a Debt, indeed, but then, it was so insig
nificant a thing ; and, besides, it had been contracted
for the peoples use, and not for that of a set of tyrants,
who had used the money to the injury of the people.
In short, 1 saw a state of things, precisely the reverse
of that in England, and very nearly what it would be in
England, if the Parliament were reformed.
461. Therefore, in the Autumn of 1816, I returned
to England fully intending to return the next spring
with my family and whatever 1 possessed of the fruits
of my labours, and to make America my country and
the country of that family. Upon my return to Eng
land, however, I found a great stir about Reform ; and
having, in their full force, all those feelings, which
make our native country dear to us, I said, at once,
" My desire is, not to change country or countrymen,
(t but to change slavery for freedom : give me freedom
(l here, and here I'll remain." These are nearly the
very words that I uttered to Mr. COBBETT, when first
introduced to him, in December 1816, by that excel
lent man, MAJOR CARTWRTGHT. Nor was I unwil
ling to labour my self in the cause of Reform. I was one
of those very Delegates, of whom the Borough-tyrants
said so many falsehoods, and whom SIR FRANCIS Bun-
DETT so shamefully abandoned. In the meeting of
Delegates, I thought we went too far in reposing con
fidence in him : I spoke my opinion as to this point :
and, in a very few days, I had the full proof of the cor
rectness of my opinion. I was present when MAJOR
CARTWRIGHT opened a letter from SIR FRANCIS,
which had come from Leicestershire. I thought the kind-
hearted old Major would have dropped upon the floor !
I shall never forget his looks as he read that letter. li
the paultry Burdett had a hundred lives, the taking ol
them all away would not atone for the pain he that da}
gave to Major Cartwright, not to mention the pair
INTRODUCTION TO THE JOURNAL. 267
given to others, and the injury done to the cause. For
my part, 1 was not much disappointed. I had no opi
nion of Sir Francis Burdett's being sound. He seem
ed to me too much attached to his own importance to
do the people any real service. He is an aristocrat ;
and that is enough for me. It is folly to suppose, that
such a man will ever be a real friend of the rights of
the people. I wish he were here a little while. He
would soon find his proper level ; and that would not,
I think, be very high. Mr. HUNT was very much
against our confiding in BURDETT; and he was per
fectly right. I most sincerely hope, that my country
men will finally destroy the tyrants who oppress them ;
but, I am very sure, that, before they succeed in it,
they must cure themselves of the folly of depending for
assistance on the nobles or the half-nobles.
46C2. After witnessing this conduct in Burdett, I setoff
home, and thought no more about effecting a Reform.
The Acts that soon followed were, by me, looked upon
as matters of course. The tyranny could go on no longer
under disguise. It was compelled to shew its naked face ;
but, it is now, in reality, not worse than it was before.
It now does no more than rob the people, and that it
did before. It kills more now out- right ; but, men may
as well be shot, or stabbed or hanged, as starved to death.
463. During the Spring and the early part of the
Summer, of 1817, I made preparations for the depar
ture of myself and family, and when all was ready, 1
bid an everlasting adieu to Boroughmongers, Sinecure
placemen and placewomen, pensioned Lords and La
dies, Standing Armies in time of peace, and (rejoice,
oh ! my children !) to a hireling, tithe-devouring Priest
hood. We arrived safe and all in good health, and
which health has never been impaired by the climate.
We are in a state of ease, safety, plenty ; and how can
we help being as happy as people can be ? The more
I see of my adopted country, the more gratitude do
I feel towards it for affording me and my numerous
offspring protection from the tyrants of my native coun
try. There I should have been in constant anxiety
about my family. Here I am in none at a!!. Here I
M 3
268 INTRODUCTION TO THE JOURNAL.
am in fear of no spies, no false witnesses, no Mood-money
men. Here no fines, irons, or gallowses await me, let
me think or say what 1 will about the government. Here
I have to pay no people to be ready to shoot at me, or1
run me through the body, or chop me down. Here no
vile Priest can rob me and mock me in the same breath.
464. In the year ]8l6 my travelling in America was
confined to the Atlantic States. I there saw enough to
determine the question of emigration or no emigration.
But, a spot to settle on myself was another matter ;
for, though I do not know, that I shall meddle with any
sort of trade, or occupation, in the view of getting mo
ney, i ought to look about me, and to consider soberly
as to a spot to settle on with so large a family. It
was right, therefore, for me to see the Western Coun
tries. I have done this ; and the particulars, which
I thought worthy my notice, I noted down in a Journal.
This Journal I now submit to the public. My chief
motive in the publication is to endeavour to convey
useful information, and especially to those persons,
who may be disposed to follow my example, and to
withdraw their families and fortunes from beneath the
hoofs of the tyrants of England.
465. I have not the vanity to suppose myself emi
nently qualified for any thing beyond my own profes
sion ; but I have been an attentive observer ; [ have
raised a considerable fortune by my own industry and
economy ; I have, all my life long, studied the matters
connected with agriculture, trade, and manufactures.
I had a desire to acquire an accurate knowledge of the
Western countries, and what I did acquire I have en-
deavoiwed to communicate to others. It was not my
object to give flowery descriptions. I leave that to
poets and painters. Neither have I attempted any ge
neral estimate of the means or manner of living, or get
ting money, in the West. But, 1 have contented myself
with merely noting down the facts that struck me ; and
from those facts the reader must draw his conclusions.
466. In One respect 1 am a proper person to give
an account of the Western Countries. 1 have no la?ids
there : 1 have no interest there : I have nothing to warp
INTRODUCTION TO THE JOURNAL. 269
my judgment in favour of those countries : and yet, I
have as little in the Atlantic States to warp my judg
ment in their favour. I am perfectly impartial in my
feelings, and am, therefore, likely to be impartial in my
words. My good wishes extend to the utmost boundary
of my adopted country. Every particular part of it is
as dear to me as every other particular part.
467- I have recommended most strenuously the en
couraging and promoting of Domestic Manufacture ;
not because I mean to be engaged in any such concern
myself ; for it is by no means likely that I ever shall ;
but, because I think that such encouragement and pro
motion would be greatlj beneficial to America, and
because it would provide a happy Asylum for my
native, oppressed, and distressed countrymen, who have
been employed all the days of their lives in manufac
tures in England, where the principal part of the
immense profits of their labour is consumed by the
Borough tyrants and their friends, and expended for
the vile purpose of perpetuating a system of plunder
and despotism at home, and all over the world.
468. Before I conclude this Introduction, I must
observe, that I see with great pain, and with some de
gree of shame, the behaviour of some persons from
England, who, appear to think that they give proof of
their high breeding by repaying civility, kindness, and
hospitality, with reproach and insolence. However,
these persons are despised. They produce very little
impression here ; and, though the accounts they send to
England, may be Relieved by some, they will have lit
tle effect on persons of sense and virtue. Truth will
make its way ; and it is, thank God, now making its
way with great rapidity.
469. I could mention numerous instances of English
men, coining to this country with hardly a dollar in their
pocket, and arriving at a state of ease and plenty and
even riches in a few years ; and I explicitly declare,
that I have never known or heard of, an instance of
one common labourer who, with common industry and
economy, did not greatly better his lot. Indeed, how
can it otherwise be, when the average wages of agri-
270 INTRODUCTION TO THE JOURNAL.
cultural labour is double what it is in England, and
when the average price of food is not more than half
what it is in that country ? These two facts, undeniable
as they are, are quite sufficient to satisfy any man of
sound mind.
470. As to the manners of the people, they are pre
cisely to my taste ; unostentatious and simple. Good
sense I find every where, and never affectation. Kind
ness, hospitality and never-failing civility. J have
travelled more than four thousand miles about this
country ; and I have never met with one single insolent
or rude native American.
471. 1 trouble myself very little about the party
politics of the country. These contests are the natural
offspring of freedom ; and they tend to perpetuate that
which produces them. I look at the people as a whole;
and I love them and feel grateful to them for having
given the world a practical proof, that peace, social
order, and general happiness can be secured, and best
secured, without Monarchs, Dukes, Counts, Baronets,
and Knights. I have no unfriendly feeling towards
any Religious Society. I wish well to every member
of every such Society ; but, I love the Quakers, and
feel grateful towards them, for having proved to the
world, that all the virtues, public as well as private,
flourish most and bring forth the fairest fruits when un-
incumbered with those noxious, weeds, hireling priests,
THOMAS HULME.
[271 ]
THE JOURNAL,
472. PITTSBURGH, June 3.— Arrived here with
a friend as travelling companion, by the mail stage from
Philadelphia, after ajourneyof six days ; having set dut
on the 28th May. We were much pleased with the face
of the country, the greatest part of which was new to
me. The route, as far as Lancaster, lay through a rich
and fertile country, well cultivated by good, settled pro
prietors ; the road excellent : smooth as the smoothest
in England, and hard as those made by the cruel
coruees in France. The country finer, but the road not
always so good, all the way from Lancaster, by Little
York, to Chambersburgh ; after which it changes for
mountains and poverty, except in timber. Chambers*-
burgh is situated on the North West side of that fine
valley which lies between the South and North Moui>
tains, and which extends from beyond the North East
boundary of Pennsylvania to nearly the South West ex
tremity of North Carolina, and which has limestone for
its bottom and rich and fertile soil, and beauty upon the
face of it, from one end to the other. The ridges of
mountains called the Allegany, and forming the highest
land in north America between the Atlantic and Pacific
oceans, begin here and extend across our route nearly
100 miles, or rather, three days, for it was no less than
half the journey to travel over them ; they rise one above
the other as we proceed Westward, till we reach the
Allegany, the last and most lofty of all, from which we
have a view to the West farther than the eye can carry.
I can say nothing in commendation of the road over
these mountains, but J must admire the drivers, and
their excellent horses. The road is every thing that is
bad, but the skill of the drivers, and the well construc
ted vehicles, and the capital old English horses, over-
272 JOURNAL. [Part III.
come every thing. We were rather singularly fortunate
in not breaking down or upsetting ; I certainly should
not have been surprized if the whole thing, horses and
all, had gone off the road and been dashed to pieces.
A new road is making, however, and when that is com
pleted, the journey will be shorter in point of time,
just one half. A tine even country we get into immedi
ately on descending the Allegany, with very little ap
pearance of unevenness or of barrenness all the way
to Pittsburgh ; the evidence of good land in the crops,
and the country beautified by a various mixture of woods
and fields.
473. Very good accommodations for travellers the whole
of the way. The stage stops to breakfast and to dine, and
sleeps were it sups. They literally feasted us every where,
at every meal, with venison and good meat of all sorts :
every thing in profusion. In one point, however, I must
make an exception, with regard to some houses : at night
I was surprized, in taverns so well kept in other respects,
to find bugs in the beds ! I am sorry to say I observed (or,
rathe r,jfe/£,) this too often. Always good eating and drink
ing, but not always good sleeping.
474. June 4th & 6th. — Took a view of Pittsburgh
It is situated between the mouths of the river Allegany
and Monongahela, at the point where they meet and
begin the Ohio, and is laid out in a triangular form so
that two sides of it lie contiguous to the water. Called
upon Mr. Bakewell, to whom we were introduced by
letter, and who very obligingly satisfied our curiosity to
see every thing of importance. After showing us through
his extensive and well conducted glass works, he rowed
us across the Monongahela to see the mines from which
the fine coals we had seen burning were brought. These
coals are taken out from the side of a steep hill, very
near to the river, and brought from 1'ience and laid
down in any part of the town for 7 cents the bushel,
weighing, perhaps, 80lb. Better coals I never saw. A
bridge 5s now building over the river, by which they will
most probably be brought still cheaper-.
475. This place surpasses even my expectations, both
in natural resources and in extent of manufactures.
Part III.] JOURNAL* 273
Here are the materials for every species of manufacture,
nearly, and of excellent quality and in profusion ; and
these means have been taken advantage of by skilful
and industrious artizans and mechanics from all parts of
the world. There is scarcely a denomination of manu
facture or manual profession that is not carried on to a
great extent, and, as far as I have been able to examine,
in the best manner. The manufacture of iron in all
the different branches, and the mills of all sorts, which
I examined with the most attention, are admirable.
4?6. Price of flour, from 4 to 5 dollars a barrel;
butter 14 cents per Ib. ; other provisions in proportion
and mechanic's and good labourer's wages 1 dollar, and
ship-builder's 1 dollar and a half, a day.
477. June 6th. — Leave Pittsburgh, and set out in a
thing called an ark, which we buy for the purpose,
down the Ohio. We have, besides, a small skiff, to tow
the ark and go ashore occasionally. This ark, which
wc^ild stow away eight persons, close packed, is a thing
by no means pleasant to travel in, especially at night.
It is strong at bottom, but maybe compared to an
orange-box, bowed over at top, and so badly made as to
admit a boy's hand to steal the oranges : it is proof
against the river, but not against the rain.
478. Just on going to push off the wharf, an English
officer stepped on board of us, with all the curiosity ima
ginable. I at once took him for a spy hired to way-lay
travellers. He began a talk about the Western Coun
tries, anxiously assuring us that we need not hope to
meet with such a thing as a respectable person, travel
where we would. I told him I hoped in God I should
see no spy or informer, whether in plain clothes or regi
mentals, and that of one thing I was certain, at any
rate : that I should rind no Sinecure placeman or pen
sioner in the Western country.
479. The Ohio, at its commencement, is about 600
yards broad, and continues running with nearly parallel
sides, taking two or three different directions in its
course, for about 200 miles. There is a curiCms con
trast between the waters which form this river : that of
the Allegany is clear and transparent, that of the Mo-
M 5
C74 JOURNAL. [Part III,
nongahcla thick and muddy, and it is not for a conside
rable distance that they entirely mingle. The sides of
the river are beautiful ; there are always rich bottom
lands upon the banks, which are steep and pretty high,
varying in width from a few yards to a mile, and skirted
with steep hills varying also in height, overhanging with
fine timber.
480. June, 1th. — Floating down the Ohio, at the rate
of four miles an hour. Lightning, thunder, rain and hail
pelting in upon us. The hail-stones as large as English
hazel-nuts. Stop at Steubenville all night. A nice place ;
has more stores than taverns, which is a good sign.
481. June 8th.— Came to Wheeling at about 12
o'clock., Jt is a handsome place, and of considerable
note. Stopped about an hour. Found flour to be about
4 to 5 dollars a barrel ; fresh beef 4 to 6 cenls per lb.,
and other things (the produce of the country) about the
same proportion. Labourers' wages, 1 dollar a day.
Fine coals here, and at Steubenville.
482. June 9th. — Two fine young men join us, one a
carpenter and the other a saddler, from Washington, in
a skiff that they have bought at Pittsburgh, and in which
they are taking a journey of about 700 miles down the
river. We allow them to tie their skiff to our ark, for
which they very cheerfully assist us.^ Much diverted to
see the nimbleness with which they go on shore some
times with their rifles to shoot pigeons and squirrels. The
whole expenses of these two young men in floating
the 700 miles, will be but 7 dollars each, including
skiff and every thing else.
483. This day pass Marietta, a good looking town
at the mouth of the Muskingham River. It is, how
ever, like many other towns on the Ohio, built on too
low ground, and is subject to inundations. Here I ob
serve a contrivance of great ingenuity. There is a
strop gp rope put across the mouth of the river, opposite
the town, fastened to trees or large posts on each side ;
upon this rope runs a pulley or block, to which is at
tached a rope, and to the rope a ferry-boat, which, by
moving the helm first one way and then the other,
is propelled by the force of the water across the river
backwards or forwards.
Part III. j JOURNAL. 275
484. June 10th. — Pass several fine coal mines, which
like those at Pittsburgh, Steubeuville, Wheeling and
other places, are not above 50 partis from the river and
are upwards of 10 yards above high water. The river
now becomes more winding than we have hitherto found
it. It is sometimes so serpentine that it appears before
and behind like a continuation of lakes, and the hills
on its banks seem to be the separations. Altogether,
nothing can be more beautiful.
485. June l\th. — A very hot day, but I could not
discover the degree of heat. On goirg along we bought
two Perch, weighing about 8 Ib. each, for 25 cents, of
a boy who was fishing. Fish of this sort will sometimes
weigh 30 Ibs. each.
486. June 12/7?. — Pass Portsmouth, at the mouth of the
Scioto River. A sort of village, containing a hundred
or two of houses. Not worthy of any particular remark.
487- June 13th. — Arrived at Cincinnati about mid
night. Tied our ark to a large log at the side of the
river, and went to sleep. Before morning, however, the
fastening broke, and, if it had not been for a watchful
back-woodsman whom we had taken on board some
distance up the river, we might have floated ten or fif
teen miles without knowing it. This back-woodsman,
besides being of much set vice to us, has been a very en
tertaining companion. He says he has been in this
country forty years, but that he is an Englishman, and
was bred in Sherwood Forest (he could not have come
from a better nursery). All his adventures he detailed
to us very minutely, but dwelt with particular warmth
upon one he had had with a priest, lately, who, to. spite
him for preaching, thought an action against him, but
was cast and had to pay costs.
488. June 14/A and loth. — Called upon Doctor
Drake and upon a Mr. Bosson, to whom we had letters.
These gentlemen shewed us the greatest civility, and
treated us with a sort of kindness which must have
changed the opinion even of the English officer whom
we saw at Pittsburgh, had he been with us. 1 could
tell that dirty hireling scout, that even in this short space
of time, have had the pleasure to meet many gentle-
276 JOURNAL. [Part III.
men, very well informed, and possessing great know
ledge as to their own country, evincing public spirit in
all their actions, and hospitality and kindness in all their
demeanour; but, if they be pensioners, male or female,
or sinecure place lords or ladies, I have yet come across,
thank God, no respectable people.
489. Cincinnati is a very fine town, and elegantly (not
only in the American acceptation of the word) situated on
the banks of the river, nearly opposite to Licking Creek,
which runs out of Kentucky, and is a stream of considera
ble importance. The country round the town is beautiful,
and the soil rich ; the fields in its immediate vicinity bear
principally grass, and clover of different sorts, the frag
rant smell of which perfumes the air. The town itself
ranks next to Pittsburgh, of the towns on the Ohio, in
point of manufactures.
490. We sold our ark, and its produce formed a de
duction from our expenses, which, with that deduction,
amounted to 14 dollars each, including every thing, for
the journey from Pittsburgh to this place, which is up
wards of 500 miles. 1 could not but remark the price
of fuel here ; 2 dollars a cord for Hickpry ; a cord is 8
feet by 4, and 4 deep, and the wood, the best in the
world ; it burns much like green Ash, but gives more heat.
This, which is of course the highest price for fuel in this
part of the country, is only about a fifth of what it is at
Philadelphia.
491. June \6th. — Left Cincinnati for Louisville with
seven other persons, in a skiff about 20 feet long and 5
feet wide.
492. June 11 th. — Stopped at VEVAY, a very neat
and beautiful place, about 70 miles above the falls of the
Ohio. Our visit here was principally to see the mode used,
as well as what progress was made, in the cultivation of the
vine, and J had a double curiosity, never having as yet seen
a vineyard. These vineyards are cultivated entirely by a
small settlement of Swiss, of about a dozen families, who
have been here about ten years. They first settled on the
Kentucky river, but did not succeed there. They plant
the vines in rows, attached to stakes like espaliers, and
theyplough between with a one-horse plough. The grapes,
Part III.] JOURNAL. -277
which are of the sorts of Claret and Madeira, look very
tine and luxuriant, and will be ripe in about the middle of
September. The soil and climate both appear to be quite
congenial to the growth of the vine : the former rich and
the latter warm. The north west wind, when it blows, is
very cold, but the south, south east,and south west winds,
which are always warm, are prevalent. The heat, in the
middle of the summer, I understand, is very great, being
generally above 85 degrees, and sometimes above lOOde-
grees. Each of those families has a farm as well as a vine
yard, so that they supply themselves with almost every ne
cessary and have their wine all clear profit. Their produce
will this year be probably not les* than 5000 gallons ;
we bought 2 gallons of it at a dollar each, as good as I
would wish to drink. Thus it is that the tyrants of
Europe create vineyards in this new country !
493. June I8th. — Arrived at Louisville, Kentucky.
The town is situated at the commencement of the falls,
or rapids of the Ohio. The river, at this place, is little
less than a mile wide, and the falls continue from a ledge
of rocks which runs across the river in a sloping direction
at this part, to Shippingport, about 2 miles lower down.
Perceiving stagnant waters about the town, and an ap-
pearanee of the house that we stopped at being infested
with bugs, we resolved not to make any stay at Loui^-
ville, but got into our skiff and floated down the falls to
Shippingport. We found it very rough floating, not to
say dangerous. The river of very unequal widths and
full of islands and rocks along this short distance, and
the current very rapid, though the descent is not more
than 22 feet. At certain times of the year the water rises
so that there is no fall ; Idrge boats can then pass.
494. At Shippingport, stopped at the house of Mr.
Bcrthoud, a very respectable French gentleman, from
whom we received the greatest civility during our stay,
which was two nights and the day intervening.
405. Shippingport is situated at a place of very great
importance, being the upper extremity of that part of
the riv er which is navigable for heavy steam-boats. All
the goods coming from the country are re-shipped, and
every thing going to it is un-shipped, here. Mr. Ber-
278 JOURNAL. [Part II f.
thoud has the store in which the articles exporting or
importing are lodged : and is, indeed, a great shipper,
though at a thousand miles from the sea.
496. June £Qth. — Left the good and comfortable
house of Mr. Berthoud, very much pleased with him
and his amible wife and family, though I differed with
him a little in politics. Having been taught at church,
when a boy, that the Pope was the whore of Babylon,
that the Bourbons were tyrants, and that the Priests
and privileged orders of France were impostors and
petty tyrants under them, 1 could not agree with him in
applauding the Boroughmongers of England for re-sub
jugating the people of France, and restoring the Bour
bons, the Pope, and the Inquisition.
497. Stop at New Albany, 2 miles below Shipping-
port, till the evening. A Mr. Paxton, I am told, is the
proprietor of a great part of the town, and has the grist
and saw-mills, which are worked by steam, and the ferry
across the river. Leave this place in company with a cou
ple of young men from the western part of the state of New
York, who are on their way to Tennesse in a small ferry
boat. Their wholejotirney will, probably, be about 1,500
miles.
4O8. June QlsL — Floating down the river, without
a *y thing in particular occurring.
499. June QQnd. — Saw a Mr. Johnstone and his wife
reaping wheat on the side of the river. They told us
they had come to this spot last year, direct from Man
chester, Old England, and had bought their little farm
of 55 acres of a back-woodsman who had cleared it,
and was glad to move further westward, for 3 dollars an
acre. They had a fine flock of little children, and pigs
and poultry, and were cheerful and happy, being conn-
dent that their industry and economy would rrot be frus
trated by visits for tithes or taxes.
500. June QSrd. — See great quantities of turkey-
buzzards and thousands of pigeons. Came to Pigeon
Creek, about 230 miles below the Falls, and stopped
for the night at Evansville, a town of nine months old,
near the mouth of it. We are novt frequently met and
passed by large, fine steam-boats, plying up and down
Part III.] JOURNAL.
the river. One went by us as we arrived here which had
left Shipping port only the evening before. They go
down the river at the rate of 10 miles an hour, and
charge passengers 6 cents a mile, boarding and lodging
included. The price is great, but the time is short.
501. June Q4th. — Left Evansville. This little place
is rapidly increasing, and promises to be a town of con
siderable trade. 1 1 is situated at a spot which seems
likely to become a port for shipping to Princeton and a
prettv large district of Indiana. I find that the land spe
culators have made entry of the most eligible tracts of
land, which will impede the partial, though not the final,
progress of population and improvement in this part of
the state.
502. On our way to Princeton, we see large flocks of
fine wild turkeys, and whole herds of pigs, apparently very
fat. The pigs are wild also, but have become so from ne
glect. Some of the inhabitants, who prefer sport to work,
live by shooting these wild turkeys and pigs, and indeed,
sometimes, 1 understand, they shoot ana carry off those,
of their neighbours before they are wild.
503. June Qolh. — Arrived at Princeton, Indiana, about
twenty miles from the river. I was sorry to see very little
doing in this town. They cannot all keep stores and
taverns ! One of the storekeepers told me he does not
sell more than ten thousand dollars value per annum :
he ought, then, to manufacture something and not spend
nine tenths of his time in lolling with a segar in his mouth.
504. June Q6th. At Princeton, endeavouring to pur
chase horses, as we had now gone far enough down the
Ohio. While waiting in our tavern, two men called in
armed with rifles, and made enquires for some horses
they suspected to be stolen. They told us they had
been almost all the way from Albany, to Shawnee town
after them, a distance of about 150 miles. I asked
them how they would be able to secure the thieves, if
they overtook them, in these wild woods ; " O," said
they, " shoot them off the horses." This is a summary
mode of executing justice, thought I, though probably
the most effectual, and, indeed, only one in this state of
society. A thief very rarely escapes here ; not nearly so
280 JOUENAL. [Part III.
often as in more populous districts. The fact was, in
this case, however, we discovered afterwards, that the
horses, had strayed away, and had returned home by
this time. But, if they had been stolen, the stealers
would not have escaped. When the loser is tired, another
will take up the pursuit, and the whole country is up in
arms till he is found.
505. June 27th. — Still at Princeton. At last we get
suited with horses. Mine costs me only 135 dollars with
the bridle and saddle, and that I am told is 18 dollars
tot) much.
506. June Qtith. — Left Princeton, and set out to see
Mr. Birkbeck's settlement, in Illinois, about 35 miles
from Princeton. Before we got to the Wabash we
had to cross a swamp of half a mile wide ; we were
obliged to lead our horses, and walk up to the knees
in mud and water. Before we got half across we be
gan to think of going back ; but, there is a sound
bottom under it all, and we waded through it as well as
we could. It is, in fact, nothing but a bed of very
soft and rich land, and only wants draining to be made
productive. We soon after came to the banks of the
great W abash, which is here about half a mile broad,
and as the ferry-boat was crossing over with us I amused
myself by washing my dirty boots. Before we mounted
again we happened to meet with a neighbour of Mr.
Birkbeck's, who was returning home ; we accom
panied him, and soon entered into the prairie lands, up
to our horses' bellies in fine grass. These prairies, which
are surrounded with lofty woods, put me in mind of im
mense noblemen's parks in England. Some of those
we passed over are called wet prairies, but, they are
dry at this time of the year ; and, as they are none of
them flat, they need but very simple draining to carry
off the water all the year round. Our horses wrere
very much tormented with flies, some as large as the
English horse-fly and some as large as the wasp ; these
flies infest the prairies that are unimproved about three
months in the year, but go away altogether as soon as
cultivation begins.
507. Mr. Birkbeck's settlement is situated between
Part III-.] JOURNAL.
the two \\ abashes, and is about ten miles from the
nearest navigable water ; we arrived there about sunset
and met with a welcome which amply repaid lis for
our day's toil. We found that gentleman with his two.
sons perfectly healtby and in high spirits : his daughters
\\6re at Henderson (a town in Kentucky, on the Ohio)
on a visit. At present his habitation is a cabin, the
building of which cost only 20 dollars ; this little hutch
is near the spot where he is about to build his house,
which he intends to have in the most eligible situation
in the prairie for convenience to fuel and for shelter in
winter, as well as for breezes in summer, and will, when
that is completed, make one of its appurtenances. I
like this plan of keeping the did loghouse ; it remind^
the grand children and their children's children of what
their ancestor has done for their sake.
508. Few settlers had as yet joined Mr. Birkbeck ;
that is to say, settlers likely to become " society ;" he
has labourers enough neaV him, either in his own houses
or on land of their own joining hie estate. He was in
daily expectation of his friends, Mr. Flower's family,
however, with a large party besides; they had just
landed at Shawnee Town, about 20 miles distant,
Mr. Birkbeck informs me he has made entry of a large
tract of land, lying, part of it, all the way from his
residence to the great \\ abash ; this he will re-self again
iu lots to any of his friends, they taking as much of it
and wherever they choose (provided it be no more than
they can cultivate), at an advance which I think very
fair and liberal.
509. The whole of his operations had been directed
hitherto (and wisely in my opinion) to building^ fencing,
and other important preparations. - He had done no>-
thing in the cultivating way but make a good garden,
which supplies him with thfc only things that he cannot
purchase, and, at present, perhaps, with more economy
than he. could grow them. He is within twenty miles
of Harmony ; in Indiana, where he gets his flour and
all other necessaries (the produce of the country) and
therefore employs himself much better in making barns
and houses and mills for the reception ajid disposal of
$82 JOURNAL. [Part III,
his crops, and fences to preserve them while growing,
before he grows them, than to get the crops first. I
have heard it observed that any American settlei, even
without a dollar in his pocket, would have had some
thing growing by this time. Very true ! 1 do not ques
tion that at all ; lor, the very first care of a settler without
a dollar in his pocket is to get something to eat, and,
he would consequently set to work scratching up the
earth, fully confident that after a long summering upon
wild flesh (without salt, perhaps,) his own belly would
stand him for barn, if his jaws would not for mill. But
the case is very different with Mr. Birkbeck, arid at
present he has need for no other provision for winter
but about a three hundredth part of his fine grass turned
into hay, which will keep his necessary horses and cows :
besides which he has nothing that eats but such pigs as
live upon the waste, and a couple of fine young deer
(which would weigh, they say, when full grown, 200 Ib.
dead weight) that his youngest son is rearing up as pets.
510. I very much admire Mr. Birkbeck's mode of
fencing. He makes a ditch 4 feet wide at top, sloping
to 1 foot wide at bottom, and 4 feet deep. With the earth
that comes out of the ditch he makes a bank on one
side, which is turfed towards the ditch. Then a long
pole is put up from the bottom of the ditch to 2 feet
above the bank; this is crossed by a short pole fiom
the other side, and then a rail is laid along between ihe
forks. The banks were growing beautifully, and looked
altogether very neat as well as formidable ; though a
live hedge (which he intends to have) instead of dead
poles and rails, upon top, would make the fence far more
effectual as well as handsomer. I am always surprised,
until t lefiecthow universally and to what a degree, farm
ing is neglected in this country, that this mode of fencing
is not adopted in cultivated districts, especially where
the land is wet, or lies low ; for, there it answers a
double purpose, being as effectual a drain as it is a fence.
511. 1 was rather disappointed, or sorry, at any
rate, not to find near MP. Birkbeck's any of the means
for machinery or of the materials for manufactures,
such as the water-falls, and the minerals and mines,
Part I [I.] JOURNAL. 283
which are possessed in such abundance by the states of
Ohio and Kentucky, and by some parts of Pennsylvania.
Some of these, however, he may yet find. Good water
he has, at any rate. He showed me a well 25 feet deep,
bored partly through hard substances .near the bottom,
that was nearly overflowings ith water of excellent quarity.
512. Ju/t/ ]st. — Left Mr. Birkbeck's for Haimony,
Indiana. The distance by the direct way is about 18
miles, but, there is no road, as yet ; indeed, it was
often with much difficulty that we could discover the
way at all. After we had crossed the Wabash, which
we did at a place called Davis's Ferry, we hired a
man to conduct us some part of the way through the
woods. In about a mile he brought us to a track,
which was marked out by slips of bark being stripped
off the trees, once in about 40 yards ; he then left us
and told us we could not mistake if we followed that
track. We soon lost all appearance of the track,
however, and of the " biasing** of the trees, as they
call it ; hut, as it was useless to go back apjain for
another guide, our only way was to keep straight on
in the same direction, bring us where it would. Having
no compass, this nearly cost us our sight, for it was
just mid-day, and we had to gaze at the sun a long
time before we discovered what was our course. After
this we soon, to our great joy, found ourselves in a
large corn field ; rode round it, and came to Johnson's
Ferry, a place where a Bayou (Boyau} of the Wabash
is crossed. This Bayou is a run out of the main river
round a flat portion of land, which is sometimes over
flowed : it is part of the same river, and the land en
compassed by it, an island. Crossed this ferry in a
canoe, and got a ferry-man to swim our horses after
us. Mounted again and followed a track which brought
us to Black River, which we forded without getting
wet, by holding our feet up. After crossing the river
we found a man who was kind enough to shew us
about half a mile through the woods, by which our
journey was shortened five or six miles. He put us
into a direct track to Harmony, through lands as rich
as a dung-hill, and covered with immense timber ; we
284 JOURNAL. [Part III.
thanked him, and pushed on our horses with eager cu
riosity to see this far-famed Harmonist Society,
513. On coming within the precincts of the Harmo-
nites we found ourselves at the side of the Wabash
again ; the river on our right hand, and their lands on
our left. Our road now lay across a field of Indian
corn, of, at the very least, a mile in width, and border
ing the town on the side we entered ; I wanted nothing
more than to behold this immense field of most beau
tiful corn to be at once convinced of all I had heard of
the industry of this society of Germans, and I found,
on proceeding a little farther, that the progress they
had made exceeded all my idea of it.
5 14. The town is methodically laid out in a situation
well chosen in all respects ; the houses are good and
clean, and have, each one, a nice garden well stocked
with all vegetables and tastily ornamented with flowers.
I observe that these people are very fond of flowers,
by the bye ; the cultivation of them, and musick, are
their chief amusements. 1 am sorry to see this, as it
is to me a strong symptom of simplicity and ignorance,
if not a badge of their German slavery. Perhaps the
pains they take with them is the cause of their flowers
being finer than any I have hitherto seen in America,
but, most probably, the climate here is more favour
able. Having refreshed ourselves at the Tavern,
where we found every thing we wanted for ourselves
and our horses, and all very clean and nice, besides
many good things we did not expect, such as beer, por
ter, and even wine, all made within the Society, and
very good indeed, we then went out to see the people
at their harvest, which was just begun. There were
150 men and women all reaping in the same field of
wheat. A beautiful sight ! The crop was very fine, and
the field, extending to about two miles in length, and
from half a mile to a mile in width, was all open to
one view, the sun shining on it from the West, and the
reapers advancing regularly over it.
515. At sun-setall the people came in, from the
fields, work-shops, mills, manufactories, and from all
their labours. This being their evening for prayer
Part III.] JOURNAL. 285
during the week, the Church bell called them out again
in about 15 minutes, to attend a lecture from their High
Priest and Law-giver, Mr. George Rapp. We went to
hear the lecture, or, rather, to see the performance, for,
it being all performed in German, we could understand
not a word. The people were all collected in a twink
ling, the men at one end of the Church and the wo
men at the other ; it iooked something like a Quaker
Meeting, except that there was not a single little child
in the place. Here they were kept by their Pastor a
couple of hours, after which they returned home to bed.
This is the quantum of Church-service they perform
during the week ; but on Sundays they are in Church
nearly the wholfe of the time from getting up to going to
bed. When it happens that Mr. Rapp cannot attend,
either by indisposition or other accident, the Society still
meet as usual, and the elders (certain of the most trusty
and discreet, whom the Pastor selects as a sort of assis
tants in his divine commission) converse on religious
subjects.
5 16. Return to the Tavern to sleep; a good comfort
able house, well kept by decent people, and the master
himself, who is very intelligent and obliging, is one of the
very few at Harmony who can speak English. Our beds
were as good as those stretched upon by the most highly
pensioned and pbced Boroughmougers, and our sleep, I
hope, much better than the tyrants ever get, in spite of
all their dungeons and gags.
517. July &nd. — Early in the morning, took a look at
the manufacturing establishment, accompanied by our
Tavern-keeper, t rind great attention is paid to this branch
of their affairs. Their principle is, not to be content with
the profit upon the manual labour of raising the article,
but also to have the benefit of the machine in preparing it
for use. I agree with them perfectly, and only wish the
subject was as well understood all over the United States
as it is at Harmony. It is to their skill in this way that
they owe their great prosperity ; if they had been no
thing but farmers, they would be now at Harmony in
Pennsylvania, poor cultivators, getting a bare subsistence,
instead of having doubled their property two or three
286 JOURNAL. [Part III.
times over, by which they have been able to move here
and select one of the choicest spots in the country.
518. But in noting down the state of this Society, as
it now is, its origin should not be forgotten ; the curious
history of it serves as an explanation to the jumble of
sense and absurdity in the association, 1 will therefore
trace the Harmonist Society from its outset in Germany
to this place.
o J9- The Sect had its origin at Wurtemberg in Ger
many, about 40 years ago, in the person of its present
Pastor and Master, George Rapp, who, by his own ac
count, •' having long seen and felt the decline of the
" Church, found himself impelled to bear testimony to
" the fundamental principles of the Christian Religion ;
" and, iinaing no toleration for his inspired doctrines, or
" for those who adopted them, he determined with his
" followers to go to that partof the earth, where they were
" free to worship God according to the dictates of their
" conscience." In other w^ords (I suppose), he had long
beheld and experienced the slavery and misery of his
country, and, feeling in his conscience that he was born
more for a ruler than for a slave, found himself imperi
ously called upon to collect together a body of his poor
countrymen and to lead them into a land of liberty and
abundance. However allowing him to have had no other
than his professed views, he, after he had got a consider
able number of proselytes, amounting to seven or eight
hundred persons, among whom were a sufficiency of good
labourers and artizans in all the essential branches of
workmanship and trade, besides farmers, he embodied
them into a Society, and then came himself to America
(not trusting to Providence to lead the way) to seek out
the land destined for these chosen children. Having
done so, and laid the plan for his route to the land of
peace and Christian love, with a foresight which shows
him to have been by no means unmindful to the temporal
prosperity of the Society, he then landed his followers in
separate bodies, and prudently led them in that order to
a resting place within Pennsylvania, choosing rather to
retard their progress through the wilderness than to ha
zard the discontent that might arise from want and fatigue
Part ILL] JOURNAL. 287
in traversing it at once. When they were all arrived,
Rapp constituted them into one body, having every thing
in common, and called the settlement Harmony. This
constitution he found authorised by the passage in Acts,
iv. 32, " And the multitude of them that believed were
" of one heart, and of one soul : neither said any of them
lt that aught of the things he possessed was his own,,6w£
" that they had ail things common." Being thus asso
ciated, the Society went to work, early in 1805, building
houses and clearing lands, according to the order and re
gulations of their leader ; but the community of stock, or
the regular discipline, or the restraints which he had re
duced them to, and which were essential to his project,
soon began to thin his followers and principally, too,
those of them who had brought most substance into the
society ; they demanded back their original portions and
set out to seek the Lord by themselves. This falling off
of the society, though it was but small, comparatively,
in point of numbers, was a great reduction from their
means ; they had calculated what they should want to
consume, and had laid the rest out in land ; so that the
remaining part were subjected to great hardships and
difficulties for the first year or two of their settling, which
was during the time of their greatest labours. However,
it was not long before they began to reap the fruits of
their toil, and in the space of six or seven years their set
tlement became a most flourishing colony. During that
short space of time they brought into cultivation 3,000
acres of land (a third of their whole estate), reared a flock
of nearly 2,000 sheep, and planted hop-gardens, orchards,
and vineyards ; built barns and stables to house their
crops and their live stock, granaries to keep one year's
produce of grain always in advance, houses to make
their cyder, beer, and wine in, and good brick or stone
warehouses for their several species of goods ; con
structed distilleries, mills for grinding, sawing, making
oil, and, indeed, for every purpose, and machines for
manufacturing their various materials for clothing and
other uses ; they had, besides, a store for retailing Phi
ladelphia goods to the country, and nearly 100 good
dwelling-houses of wood, a large stone-built tavern,
268 JOURNAL. [Part HI.
and, as a proof of superabundance, a dwelling-house
and a meeting-house (alias the parsonage and church)
which they had neatly built of brick. And, besides all
these improvements within the society, they did a great
deal of business, principally in the way of manufacturing,
for the people of the country. They worked for them
with their mills and machines, some of which did no
thing else, and their blacksmiths, tailors, shoe-makers,
&c. when not employed by themselves, were constantly
at work for their neighbours. Thus this everlastmgly-
at-work band of emigrants increased their stock before
they quitted their first colony, to upwards of two hun
dred thousand dollars, from, probably not one fifth of
that sum. What will not unceasing perseverance ac
complish? But, with judgment and order to direct it,
what in the world can stand against it ! *
520. In comparing the state of this society as it now
is with what it was in Pennsylvania, it is just the same
as to plan; the temporal and spiritual affairs are ma
naged in the same way, and upon the same principles,
only both are more flourishing, Rapp has here brought
his disciples into richer land, and into a situation bet
ter in every respect, both for carrying on their trade, and
for keeping to their faith ; their vast extent of land is,
they say, four feet deep of rich mould, nearly the
whole of it, and it lies along the banks of a fine na
vigable river on one side, while the possibility of much
interruption from other classes of Christians is effec
tually guarded against by an endless barricado of woods
on the other side. Bringing the means and expe
rience acquired at their first establishment, they have
of course gone on improving and increasing (not in
population) at a much greater rate. One of their
greatest improvements, they tell me is the working of
their mills and manufacturing machines by steam ;
they feel the advantage of this more and more every
year. They are now preparing to build a steam boat ;
this is to be employed in their traffick with New Or-
* A more detailed account of this society, up to the year 1811,
will be found in Mr. Meliishe's Travels, vol. 2.
Part III.] JOURNAL. 289
leans carrying their own surplus produce and returning
with tea, coffee, and other commodities for, their own
consumption, and tovretail to the people of the country.
I believe they advance, too, in the way of ornaments
and superfluities, for the dwelling-house they have now
built their pastor, more resembles a Bishop's Palace than
what I should figure to myself as the humble abode of
a teacher of the " fundamental principles of the Chris
tian Religion."
52 1 . The government of this society is by bands, each
consisting of a distinct trade or calling. They have a
foreman to each band, who rules it under the general di
rection of the society, the law-giving power of which is in
the High Priest. He cannot, however make laws with
out the consent of the parties. The manufacturing es
tablishment, and the mercantile affairs and public ac
counts are all managed by one person ; he, I believe,
is one of the sons of Rapp. They have a bank, where
a separate account is kept for each person ; if any one puts
in money, or has put in money, he may on certain con
ditions as to time, take it out again. They labour and
possess in common ; that is to say, except where it is not
practicable or is immaterial, as with their houses, gardens,
cows and poultry, which they have to themselves, each
family. They also retain what property each may bring
on joining the concern, and he may demand it in case
of leaving the society, but without interest.
522. Here is certainly a wonderful example of the
effects of skill, industry, and force combined. This con
gregation of far-seeing, ingenious, crafty, and bold, and
of ignorant, simple, superstitious, and obedient, Ger
mans, has shown what may be done. But their exam
ple, i believe, will generally only tend to confirm this
free people in their suspicion that labour is concomitant
to slavery or ignorance. Instead of their improvements,
and their success and prosperity altogether, producing
admiration, if not envy, they have a social discipline, the
thought of which reduces these feelings to ridicule and con
tempt : that is to say , with regard to the mass ; with respect
to their leaders one's feelings are apt to be stronger. A
fundamental of their religious creed (a restraining
N
2QO JOURNAL. [Part III.
clause" a Chancery Lawyer would call it) requires restric
tions on the propagation of the species ; it orders
such regulations as are necessary to prevent children
coming but once in a certain number of years ; and this
matter is so arranged that, when they come, they come
in little flocks, all within the same month, perhaps, like
a farmer's lambs. The Law-giver here made a fa
mously " restraining statute'" upon the law of nature !
This way of expounding law seems to be a main point
of his policy ; he by this means keeps his associates
from increasing to an unruly number within, while
more are sure not to come in from without ; and, I
really am afraid he will go a good way towards se
curing a monopoly of many great improvements in agri
culture, both as to principle and method. People see
the fine fields of the Harmonites, but, the prospect
comes damped with the idea of bondage and celibacy.
It is a curious society : was ever one heard of before
that did not wish to increase ! This smells strong of
policy ; some distinct view in the leaders, no doubt.
Who would be surprised if we were to see a still more
curious society by and bye ? A Society Sole ! very far
from improbable, if the sons of Rapp (for he has chil
dren, nevertheless, as well &s Parson Malthus) and the
Riders were to die, it not being likely that they will re
nounce or forfeit their right to the common stock. We
should then have societies as well as corporations vested
in one person ! That would be quite a novel kind of
benefice ! but, not the less fat. I question whether the
associated person of Mr. Rapp would not be in pos
session of as fine a domain and as many good things as
the incorporated person of an Archbishop: nay, he
would rival the Pope! But, to my journal.
523. Arrive at Princeton in the evenmg ; a good
part of our road lay over the fine lands of the H-armo-
nites. I understand, by the bye, that the title deeds
to these lands are taken in the name of Rapp and of
his associates. Poor associates: if they do but rebel !
Find the same store-keepers and tavern-keepers in
the same attitudes that we left them in the other dat.
Their legs only a little higher than their heade, and
Part III] JOURNAL. • 291
segars in their mouths ; a fine position for business ! It
puts my friend in mind of the Roman posture^in dining.
524." July 3rd. — At Princeton all day. This is a
pretty considerable place ; very good as to buildings ;
but is too much inland to be a town of any consequence
until the inhabitants do that at home which they employ
merchants and foreign manufacturers to do for them.
Pay 1 dollar for a set of old shoes to my horse, half the
price of new ones.
525. July 4th.— Leave Princeton ; in the evening,
reach a place very appropriately called Mud-holes, after
riding 46 miles over lands in general very good but very
little cultivated, and that little very badly ; the latter
part of the journey in company with a Mr. Jones from
Kentucky. Nature is the agriculturist here ; speculation
instead of cultivation, is the order of the day amongst
men. We feel the ill effects of this in the difficulty of
getting oats for our horses. However, the evil is un
avoidable, if it can be really called an evil. As well
might I grumble that farmers have not taken possession
as complain that men of capital have. Labour is the
thing wanted, but, to have that money must come first.
This Mud-holes was a sort of fort, not 4 years ago, for
guarding against the Indians, who then committed great
depredations, killing whole families often, men, women
and children. How changeable are the affairs of this
world ! 1 have not met with a singlelndian in the whole
course of my route.
526. Julybth. — Come to Judge Chambers's, a good
tavern; 35 miles. On our way, pass French Lick, a
strong spring of water impregnated with salt and sul
phur, and called Lick from its being resorted to by
cattle for the salt ; close by this spring is another still
larger, of fine clear lime-stone water, running fast
enough to turn a mill. Some of the trees near the
Judge's exhibit a curious spectacle ; a large piece of
wood appears totally dead, all the leaves brown and the
branches broken, from being roosted upon lately by an
enormous multitude of pigeons. A novel sight for us,
unaccustomed to the abundance of the back-woods !
292 JOURNAL. [Part III.
No tavern but this, nor house of any description, within
many miles.
527. July 6th. — Leave the Judge's, still in company
with Mr. Jones. Ride 25 miles to breakfast, not sooneV
finding feed for our horses; this was at the dirty log-
house of Mr. who has a large farm with a grist
mill on it, and keeps his yard and stables ancle deep iu
mud and water. If this were not one of the healthiest
climates in the world, he and his family must have died
in all this filth. About 13 miles further, come to New
Albany, where we stop at Mr. Jenkins's, the best tavern
we have found in Indiana, that at Harmony excepted.
528. July 7th. — Resting at New Albany. We were
amused by hearing a Quaker-lady preach to the natives.
Her first words were "All the nations of the earth are of
one blood." " So," said 1 to myself, " this question,
" which has so long perplexed philosophers, divines and
" physicians, is now set at rest !" She proceeded to vent
her rage with great vehemence against hireling priests and
the trade of preaching in general, and closed with deal
ing out large portions of brimstone to the drunkard and
still larger and hotter to those who give the bottle to
drink. This part of her discourse pleased me very much
and may be a saving to me into the bargain ; for, the
dread of everlasting roasting added to my love of economy
will (I think) prevent me making my friends tipsy. A
very efficacious sermon !
529. July 8th. — Jenkins's is a good tavern, but it
entertains at a high price. Our bill was 6 dollars each for
a day and two nights ; a shameful charge. Leave New-
Albany, cross the Ohio, and pass through Louisville in
Kentucky again, on our way to Lexington, the capital.
Stop for the night at Mr. Netherton's, a good tavern.
The land hitherto is good, and the country altogether
healthy, if I may judge from the people who appear more
cheerful and happy than in Indiana, always excepting
Harmony. Our landlord is the picture of health and
strength : 6 feet 4 inches high, weighs 300lb. and not fat.
530. July 9th.— Dine at Mr. Overton's tavern, on
our way to Frankfort; pay half a dollar each for an
excellent dinner, with as much brandy and butter-milk
Part III.] JOURNAL. 293
as we choose to drink, and good feed for our horses. la
the afternoon \ve have the pleasure to be overtaken by
two ladies on horseback, and have their agreeable com
pany for a mile or two. On their turning oft' from our
road we were very reluctantly obliged to refuse an oblig
ing invitation to drink tea at their house, and myself
the more so, as one of the ladies informed me she had
married a Mr. Constantine, a gentleman from my own
native town of Bolton, in Lancashire. But, we had yet
so far to go, and it was getting dark. This most health
ful mode of travelling is universal in the Western States,
and it gives me great pleasure to see it ; though, per
haps, I have to thank the badness of the roads as the
cause. Arrive at Frankfort, apparently a thriving town,
on the side of the rough Kentucky river. The houses
are built chiefly of brick, and the streets, I understand,
paved with limestone. Limestone abounds in this state,
and yet the roads are not good, though better than in
Indiana and Ohio, for there there are none. 1 wonder
the government of these states do not set about making
good roads and bridges, and even canals. I pledge my
self to be able to shew them how the money might be
raised, and, moreover, to prove that the expense would
be paid over and over again in almost no time. Such
improvements would be income to the governments in
stead of expense, besides being such an incalculable bene
fit to the states. But, at any rate, why not roads, and in
this state, too, which is so remarkable for its quality
of having good road materials and rich land together,
generally all over it ?
53 1. July \0th. — Leave Frankfort, and come through
a district of fine land, very well watered, to Lexington ;
stop at Mr. Keen's tavern. Had the good fortune to
meet Mr. Clay, who carried us to his house, about a
mile in the country. It is a beautiful residence, situated
near the centre of a very fine farm, which is just cleared
and is coming into exellent cultivation. I approve of
Mr. Clay's method very much, especially in laying
down pasture. He clears away all the brush or under-
vrood, leaving timber enough to afford a sufficiency of
shade to tie grass, which does not thrive here exposed
294 JOURNAL. [Part ill.
to the sun as in England and other such climates. By
this means he has as fine grass and clover as can pos
sibly grow. 1 could not but admire to see this gentle
man, possessing so much knowledge and of so much
weight in his country's affairs, so attentively promoting
her not less important though more silent interests by
improving her agriculture. What pleased me still more?
however, because I less expected it, was, to hear Mrs.
Clay, in priding herself on the state of society, and the
rising prosperity of the country, citing as aproof the de
cency and affluence of the trades-people and mechanics
at Lexington, many of whom ride about in their own
carriages. What a contrast, both in sense and in senti
ment, between this lady and the wives of Legislators
(as they are called), in the land of the Boroughmongers !
God grant that no privileged batch ever rise up in Ame
rica, for then down come the mechanics, are harnessed
themselves, and half ridden to death.
532. July \\th. — This is the hottest day we have
had yet. Thermometer at 90 degrees, in shade. Met a
Mr. Whittemore, from Boston, loud in the praise of this
climate. He informed me he had lately lost his wife
and five children near Boston, and that he should have
lost his only remaining child, too, a son now stout and
healthy, had he not resolved instantly to try the air of
the west. He is confident that if he had taken this step
in time he might have saved the lives of all his family.
This might be however, and yet this climate not better
than that of Boston. Spent the evening with Colonel
Morrison, one of the first settlers in this state ; a fine
looking old gentleman, with colour in his face equal to a
London Alderman. The people here are pretty generally
like that portion of the people of England who get por
ridge enough to eat ; stout, fat, and ruddy.
533. July 12 — Hotter than yesterday ; thermome
ter at 01 degrees.
534. July 13. — Leave Lexington; stop at Paris,
22 miles. A fine country all the way ; good soil, plenty
of limestone and no musquitoes. Paris is a healthy
town, with a good deal of stir ; woollen and cotton ma
nufactures are carried on here, but upon a small scale.
Part III.] JOURNAL. '4)5
They are not near enough to good coal mines to do much
in that way. What they do, however, is well paid for.
A spinner told me he gets 83 cents per Ib. for his twist,
which is 33 cents more than it would fetch at New York.
Stop at Mr. Timberlake's, a good house. The bar
keeper, who comes from England, tells me that he sailed
to Canada, but he is glad he had the means to leave Ca
nada and come to Kentucky; he has 300 dollars a year,
and board and lodging. Made enquiry after young Wat
son, but find he has left this place and is gone to Lexington.
535. The following is a list of the wages and prices
of the most essential branches of workmanship and ar
ticles of consumption, as they are here at present.
Journeymen saddlers' price for DIS. cts. Dia. cts.
drawing on men's saddles. . . , * 1 25 to 2 50
Journeymen blacksmiths, per day 1 . . — 1 25
— Per month 25 . . — 30
Journeymen hatters ( casters ) ... 1 25 —
Ditto rorum 1 . . —
Ditto for finishing, per month,
and found 30
Journeymen shoe-makers (coarse) ..75 —
Ditto, ./we 1 25 —
Ditto, for boots 3 25 —
Journeymen tailors, by the coat 5 . . —
Stone-masons or bricklayers, per
day 1 . . — 1 oO
Carpenters, per day, and found 1 . . —
Salary for a clerk, per annum . . . 200 . . — 500
Beef, per 100 Ib . . 6 . . —
Flour, per barrel 6 . . —
536. July \4th. — Hot again ; 90 degrees. Arrive
at Blue Licks, close by the fine Licking Creek, 22 miles
from Paris. Here is a sulphur and salt spring like that
at French Lick in Indiana, which makes this a place
of great resort in summer for the fashionable swallowers
* Or 5s. 7£'l. to 1 1*. 3cL sterling. At the present rate of exchange,
a dollar is equivalent to 4*. 6d. sterling, and a tent is the hundredth
part of a dollar,
296 JOURNAL. [Part ill.
of mineral waters ; the three or four taverns are at this
time completely crowded. Salt was made till latterly
at this spring, by an old Scotsman ; he now attends the
ferry across the Creek. Not much to be said for the
country round here ; it is stony and barren, what, I have
not seen before in Kentucky.
537. July loth. — To Maysville, or Lime-stone, 24
miles. This is a place on the banks of the Ohio, and
is a sort of port for shipping down the river to a great
part of that district of the state for which Louisville is
the shipping port to and from New Orleans. Still hot;
90 degrees again. This is the fifth day ; rather unusual,
this continuance of heat. The. hot spells, as well as the
cold spells, seldom last more than three days, pretty
generally in America.1*
538. July 16th — Hot still, but a fine breeze blowing
up die river. Not a bit too hot for me, but the natives
say it is the hottest weather they recollect in this coun
try ; a proof to me that this is a mild climate, as to heat,
at any rate. Saw a cat-fish in the market, just caught
out of the river by a hook and line, 4 feet long and
eighty pounds weight, offered for 2 dollars. Price of
Hour, 6 dollars a barrel ; fresh beef, 6J cents, and but
ter 20 cents per Ib.
539. July llth. — Set out again, crossing the Ohio
into the state of that name, and take the road to Chilli-
cothe, 74 miles from Maysville. Stop about mid-way
for the night, travelling over a country generally hilly,
and not of good soil, and passing through West Union,
a place situated as a town ought to be, upen high and
unlevel lands ; the inhabitants have fine air to breathe,
and plenty of food to eat and drink, and, if they keep
their houses and streets and themselves clean, I will ensure
them long lives. Some pretty good farms in view of the
road, but many abandoned for the richer lands of In
diana and Illinois. Travelling expenses much less,
hitherto, than in Indiana and some parts of Kentucky ;
we had plenty of good buttermilk at the farm-houses all
along the road, free of expense, and the tavern-keepers
do not set before us bread made of Indian corn, which
we have not yet learned to like very cordially.
Part III.] JOURNAL. 297
540. July l&th. — Come to Chillicothe, the country
improving and more even as we proceed. See some
very rich lands on passing Paint Creek, and on ap
proaching the Scioto river ; these, like all the bottom
lands, having a coat of sediment from their river in ad
dition to the original soil, are by far the richest. Chil
licothe is a handsome town, regularly laid out, but
stands upon a flat. I hate the very sfght of a level
street, unless there be every thing necessary to carry
off all filth and water. The air is very fine, so far as it
is not contaminated by the pools of water which stand
about the town as green as grass. Main sewers, like
those at Philadelphia, are much wanted.
541 . July \9th. — Called upon Mr. Bond, being in
troduced by letter, and spent a very pleasant evening
with him and a large party of his agreeable friends.
Left them, much pleased with the society of Chillicothe.
542. July C20th. — We were introduced to Governor
Worthington, who lives about 2 miles from the town.
He took us to his house, and showed us part of his fine
estate, which is 800 acres in extent, and all of it elevated
table land, commanding an immense view over the flat
country in the direction of Lake Erie. The soil is very
rich indeed ; so rich, that the governor pointed out a dung
heap which was bigger than the barn it surrounded and
had grown out of, as a nuisance. The labour of drag
ging the dung out of the way, would be more than the cost
of removing the barn, so that he is actually going to pull
the barn down, and build it up again in another place.
This is not a peculiarity of this particular spot of land,
for manure has no value here at all. All the stable-
dung made at Chillicothe is flung into the river. I dare
say, that the Inn we put up at does not tumble into the
water less than 300 good loads of horse-dung every year.
543. 1 had some conversation with Governor Wor-
thington on the subject of domestic manufactures, and
was glad to find he is well convinced of the necessity
of, or at least of the great benefit that would result
from, the general establishment of them in the United
States. He has frequently recommended it in his
public capacity, he informed me; and I hope he will
298 JOURNAL. [Part III.
advocate it with effect. He is a true lover of his
country, and no man that I have met with has a more
thorough knowledge of the detestable villainy of the
odious Boroughmongering government of England,
and, of course, it has his full share of hatred.
544. JulyQlst. — Leave Cbillicothe. A fine, healthy
country and very rich land all the way to New Lan
caster, 34 miles from Chillicothe, and 38 from Zanes-
ville. Stop at the house of a German, where we slept,
but not in bed, preferring a soft board and something
clean for a pillow to a bed of down accompanied with bugs.
545. Nothing remarkable, that I can see, as to the
locality of this town of New Lancaster; but, the name,
alas ! it brought to my recollection the horrid deeds
done at Old Lancaster, the county town of my native
country ! J thought of Colonel F r, and his
conduct towards my poor, unfortunate townsman, Gal
lant ! I thought of the poor, miserable creatures, men,
women, and children, whcv, in the bloody year of 1812,
were first instigated by spies to commit arson, and then
pursued into death by the dealers in human blood.
Amongst the sufferers upon this particular occasion,
there was a boy, who was silly, and who would at any
time, have jumped into a pit for a halfpenny : he
was not fourteen years old ; and when he was about to
be hanged, actually called out for his " mammy " to
come and save him ! Who, that has a heart in his
bosom, can help feeling indignation against the cruel
monsters ! Who can help feeling a desire to see their
dreadful power destroyed ! The day must come, when
the whole of the bloody tragedies of Lancashire will
be exposed. In the mean while, here I am in safety
from the fangs of the monsters, who oppress and grind
my countrymen. The thought of these oppressions,
however, I carry about with me ; and I cannot help
its sometimes bursting forth into words.
546. July QQnd. — Arrived at Zanesville,^ a place
* For a more particular account of this place, as well, in
deed, as of most of the other towns I have visited, see Mr.
Mellish's Travels, vol. ii.
Part III.] JOURNAL. 299
finely situated for manufactures, in a nook of the
Muskingham, just opposite to the mouth of Licking
Creek. It has almost every advantage for manu
facturing of all sorts, both as to local situation and as
to materials ; it excels Wheeling and Steubenville, iu
many respects, and, in some, even Pittsburgh. The
river gives vejry fine falls near the town, one of them
of 12 feet, where it is 600 feet wide ; the creek, too,
falls in by a fine cascade. What a power for ma
chinery ! I should think that as much effect might be
produced by the power here afforded as by the united
manuallabout of all the inhabitants of the state. The
navigation is very good all the way up to the town, and
is now continued round the falls by a canal with locks,
so that boats can go nearly close up to Lake Erie.
The bowels of the earth afford coal, iron ore, stone,
free stone, lime-stone, and clays : all of the best,
1 believe, and the last, the very best yet discovered in
this country, and, perhaps, as good as is to be found
in any country. All these materials are found in inex
haustible quantities in the hills and little ridges on the
sides of the river and creek, arranged as if placed by
the hand of man for his own use. In short, this place
has the four elements in the greatest perfection that I
have any where yet seen in America. As to manu
factures, it is, like Wheeling and Steubenville, nothing
in comparison to Pittsburg.
547. Nature lias done her part ; nothing is left want
ing but machines to enable the people of Ohio to keep
their flour at home, instead of exporting it, at their
own expense, to support those abroad who are indus
trious enough to send them back coats, knives, and
cups, and saucers.
548. July 0,3rd. — All day at Zanesville. Spent
part of k very agreeably with Mr. Adams the post
master, and old Mr. Dillon who has a large iron foun-
dery near this.
549. July 24M.— Go with Mr. Dillon about 3 miles
up the Creek, to see his mills and iro»-factory es
tablishment. He has here a very fine water-fall, of
1 8 feet, giving immense power, by "which he works a
300 JOURNAL. [Part III.
large iron-forge and foundery, and mills for sawing,
grinding, and other purposes.
550. 1 will here subjoin a list of the prices at
Zanesville, of provisions, stock, stores, labour, &c.
just as I have it from a resident, whom 1 can rely
upon.
Flour (superfine) per barrel of Dis. cts. Dis. cts.
196 Ib. from 5 0 to 575
Beef, per 1 00 Ib 4 0 — 4 25
Pork (prime), per 100 Ib 4 50 — 5 0
Salt, per bushel of 50 Ib 2 25
Potatoes, per bushel 025 — 0 SU
Turnips, ditto 0 20
Wheat, ditto of 60 Ib. to 66 Ib. . 0 75
Indian corn, ditto shelled 0 33^ — 0 50
Oats, ditto 025 — 0 33i
Rye, ditto 0 50
Bailey, ditto 0 75
Turkeys, of from 12 Ib. to 20 Ib.
each 0 371 — ° 5°
Fowls 0 12j — 0 18|
Live Hogs, per 100 Ib. live
weight 3 0 — 5 O
Cows, (the best) 18 0—25 O
Yoke of Oxen, ditto 50 0—75 O
Sheep 2 50
Hay, per ton, delivered 9 0 — 10 0
Straw, fetch it and have it.
Manure, ditto, ditto.
Coals, per bushel, delivered. ... 08
Butter, per Ib. avoirdupois. ... 0 12-J — 0 18|
Cheese, ditto, ditto 0 12f — 0 25
Loaf Sugar 0 50
Raw ditto 0 31|
Domestic Raw ditto 0 18|
Merino Wool, perlb. avoirdupois,
washed 1 0
Three-quarter Merino ditto .... 0 75
Common Wool 0 50
Bricks, per 1000, delivered .... 60—70
Lime, per bushel, ditto 0 18|
Part III.] JOURNAL. 301
Sand, in abundance on the banks Dis. ct*. rn*. ct*
of the river.
Glass is sold in boxes, containing
100 square feet; of the com-
mou size there are 180 panes,
in a box, when the price is . . 14 0
The price rises in proportion to
the size of the panes.
Oak planks, 1 inch thick, per 100
square feet, at the saw-mill 1 50
Poplar, the same.
White Lead, per 100 Ib. de
livered 17 0
Red ditto 17 0
Litharge 15 O
Pig Lead 9 50
Swedish Iron (the best, in bars) 14 0
Juniatta, ditto, ditto 14 O
Mr. Dillon's ditto, ditto 12 50
Castings at Mr. Dillon's Foun-
dery per ton 120 0
Ditto, for machinery, ditto, per Ib. O 8
Potash, per ton 1 80 0
Pearl Ashes, ditto 200 0
Stone masons and bricklayers, per
day, and board and lodging 1 50
Plasterers, by the square yard,
they finding themselves in board
and lodging and in lime, sand,
laths and every thing they use. 0 18|
arpenters, by the day, who
find themselves and bring their
tools 1 25
Blacksmiths, by the month, found
in board, lodging and tools . 30 0 to 40 0
Millwrights, per day, finding
themselves 1 50 — 2 0
Tailors, per week, finding them
selves and working 14 or 15
hours a day * 7 0 — 90
Shoemakers the same.
302 JOURNAL [Part III.
Glazier's charge for putting in &*• Ct3- 1>is- cts
each pane of glass 8 in. by
10 in. with their own putty
and laying on the first coat of
paint ,....-.... 0 4 to O 5
Labourers, per annum, and found 100 0 — 120 0
The charge of carriage for 100 Ib.
weight from Baltimore to Zanis-
ville 10 0
Ditto for ditto by steam-boatfrorn
New Orleans to Shippingport,
and thence, by boats, to Zanes-
ville, about 6 50
Peaches, as fine as can grow, per
bushel 0 12f — 0 25
Apples and pears proportiouably cheaper ; sometimes
given away, in the country.
551. Prices are much about the same at Steubenville;
if any difference, rather lower. If bought in a quantity,
some of the articles enumerated might be had a good
deal lower. Labour, no doubt, if a job of some length
were offered, might be got somewhat cheaper here.
552. July 25//i. — Leave Zanesville for Pittsburgh,
keeping to the United States road ; stop at Cambridge,
25 miles. During the first eight miles we met 10 wa
gons, loaded with emigrants.
553. July 26^/i. — Stop at Mr. Broadshaw's, a very
good house on the road, 25 miles from Cambridge. This
general government road is by no means well laid out ; it
goes strait over the tops of the numerous little hills, up
and down, up and down. It would have been a great
deal nearer in point of time, if not in distance (though 1
think it would that, too), if a view had been had to the la
bour of travelling over these everlasting unevennesses.
554. July C27th. — To Wheeling in Virginia, 31 miles.
They have had tremendous rains in these parts, we
hear as we pass along, lately ; one of the creeks we
came over has overflown so as to carry down a man's
house with himself and his whole family. A dreadful
catasrophe, but, certainly, one not out of the man's
Part III.] JOURNAL. SOS
power to have foreseen and prevented ; it surprises me
that the people willstick up their houses so near the water's
edge. Cross Wheeling Creek several times to-day ; it is
a rapid stream, and 1 hope it will not be long before it
turns many water-wheels. See much good land, and
some pretty good fanning.
555. July 28th. — Went with a Mr. Graham, a quaker
of this place, who treated us in the most friendly and hos
pitable manner, to see the new national road from Wash
ington city to this town. It is covered with a very thick
layer of nicely broken stones, or stone rather, laid on
with great exactness both as to depth and width, and then
rolled down with an iron roller, which reduces all to one
solid mass. This is a road made for ever ; not like the
flint roads in England, rough, nor soft or dirty, like the
gravel roads ; but, smooth and hard. When a road is
made in America it is well made. An American always
plots against labour, and, in this instance, he takes the
most effectual course to circumvent it. Mr. Graham took
us likewise to see the fine coal mines near this place and
the beds of limestone and freestone, none of which I
had time to examine as we passed Wheeling in our ark.
All these treasures lie very convenient to the river.
The coals are principally in one long ridge, about ten
feet wide ; much the same as they are at Pittsburgh, in
point of quality and situation. They cost 3 cents per
bushel to be got out from the mine. This price, as
nearly as 1 can calculate, enables the American collier
to earn upon an average, double the number of cents
for the same labour that the collier in England can earn ;
so- that, as the American collier can, upon an average,
buy his flour for one third of the price that the English
collier pays for his flour, he receives six times the quan
tity of flour for the same labour. Here is a country
for the ingenious paupers of England to come to !
They find food and materials, and nothing wanting but
their mouths and hands to consume and work them.
I should like to see the old toast of the Boroughmon-
gers brought out again ; when they were in the height
of their impudence their myrmidons used to din in our
ears, " Old England for ever, and those that do not
304 JOURNAL. [Part IJL
" like her let them leave her." Let them renew this
.swaggering toast, and I would very willingly for my part,
give another to the same effect for the United States of
America. But, no, no ! they know better now. They
know that they would be taken at their word ; and, like
the tyrants of Egypt, having got their slaves fast, will (if
they can) keep them so. Let them beware, lest some
thing worse than the Red Sea overwhelm them
Like Pharaoh and his Boroughmongers they will not
yield to the voice of the people, and, surely, something
like, or worse than, their fate shall befall them !
556. They are building a steam-boat at Wheeling,
which is to go, they say, 1800 miles up the Missouri
river. The wheels are made to work in the stern of
the boat, so as not to come in contact with the floating
trees, snaggs, planters,* &c., obstructions most likely
very numerous in that river. But, the placing the
wheels behind only saves them ; it is no protection
against the boat's sinking in case of being pierced by
a planter or sawyer. -j- Observing this I will suggest
a plan which has occurred to me, and which, 1 think,
would provide against sinking, effectually ; but, at any
rate, it is one which can be tried very easily and with
very little expense. — 1 would make a partition of strong
plank ; put it in the broadest fore-part of the boat,
right across, and put good iron bolts under the bottom
of the boat, through these planks, and screw them on
the top of the deck. Then put an upright post in the
inside of the boat against the middle of the plank par
tition, and put a spur to the upright post. The parti
tion should be water-tight. I would then load the
fore-part of the boat, thus partitioned off with lumber
or such loading as is least liable to injury, and best
calculated to stop the progress of a sawyer after it has
gone through the boat. — By thus appropriating the
fore-part of the boat to the reception of planters and
sawyers, it appears to me that the other part would be
secured against all intrusion.
* Trees tumbled head-long and fixed in the river,
•f The same as the planter, only waving up and down.
Part III.] JOURNAL. 30*5
557. July 29//J- — From Wheeling, through Charls-
ton, changing sides of the river again to Steubenville.
My eyes were delighted at Charlston to see the smoke
of the coals ascending from the glass-works they have
here. This smoke it is that must enrich America ; she
might save almost all her dollars if she would but
bring her invaluable black diamonds into service. Talk
of independance, indeed, without coats to wear or knives
or plates to eat with !
5.58. At Steubenville, became acquainted with Messrs.
Wills, Ross, and company, who have an excellent and
well-conducted woollen manufactory here. They make
very good cloths, and at reasonable prices ; I am sorry
they do not retail them at Philadelphia ; 1 for one, should
be customer to them for all that my family wanted in the
woollen-way. Here are likewise a Cotton-mill, a Grist
mill, a Paper-mill, an Iron-foundery and Tan-yards
and Breweries. Had the pleasure to see Mr. Wilson,
the editor of the Steubenville Gazette, a very public-
spirited man, and, [ believe, very serviceable to this
part of the country. If the policy he so powerfully ad
vocates were adopted, the effects would be grand for
America ; it would save her dollars while it would help
to draw the nails of the vile Boroughmongers. But,
he has to labour against the inveterate effects of the
thing the most difficult of all others to move — habit.
559. By what I have been able to observe of this part
of the country, those who expect to find what is gene
rally understood by society, pretty much the same that
they have been accustomed to it on the Atlantic side,
or in England, will not be totally disappointed. It is
here upon the basis of the same manners and customs
as in the oldest settled districts, and it there differs
from what it is in England, and here from what it is
there, only according to circumstances. Few of the
social amusements that are practicable at present, are
scarce ; dancing, the most rational for every reason, is
the most common ; and in an assemblage for this pur
pose, composed of the farmers' daughters and sons
from 20 miles round, an Englishman (particularly if
a young one) might very well think his travels to be
306 JOURNAL. [Part III.
all a dream, and that he was still in a Boroughmonger
country. Almost always the same tunes and dances,
same manners, same dress. Ah, it is that same dress
which is the great evil ! It may be a very pretty sight,
but, to see the dollars thus danced out of the country
into the hands of the Boroughinongers, to the tune of
national airs, is a thing which, if it do not warrant ridi
cule, will, if America do not, by one unanimous voice,
soon put a stop to it.
560. July 80th. — From Stubenville, crossing the Ohio
for the last time, and travelling through a slip of Virginia
and a handsome part of Pennsylvania, to Pittsburgh.
561. August 1st. — Sold my horse for 75 dollars,
60 dollars less than 1 gave for him. A horse changes
masters no where so often as in this Western country,
and no where so often rises and falls in value. Met
a Mr. Gibbs, a native of Scotland, and an old neigh
bour of mine, having superintended some oil of vitriol
works, near to my bleach-works on Great Lever, near
Bolton, in Lancashire. He now makes oil of vitriol,
aquafortis, salt, soap, &c. at this place, and is, I be
lieve, getting rich. Spent a pleasant evening with him.
562. August 2nd. — Spent most part of the day
with Mr. Gibbs, and dined with him ; as the feast was
his, I recommended him to observe the latter part of
the good Quaker Lady's sermon which we heard at
New Albany.
5()3. August 3rd. — Leave Pittsburgh, not without
some regret at bidding adieu to so much activity and
smoke, for I expect not to see it elsewhere. I like to
contemplate the operation by which the greatest effect
is produced in a country. Take the same route and
the same stage as on setting out from Philadelphia.
564. August 4th, 5th, and 6th. — These three days
traversing the romantic Allegany Mountains ; got over
turned (a common accident here) only once, and then
received very little damage : myself none, some of my
fellow travellers a few scratches. We scrambled out,
and, with the help of some wagoners, set the vehicle
on its wheels again, adjusted our " plunder " (as some
of the Western people call it), and drove on again
Part III.] JOURNAL. 307
without being detained more than five minutes. The
fourth night slept at Chambersburgh, the beginning of
a fine country.
565. August 1th. — Travelled over the fine lime-stone
valley before mentioned, and through a very good coun
try all the way, by Little York to Lancaster. Here
I met with a person from Philadelphia, who told me
a long story about a Mr. Ilulme, an Englishman, who
had brought a large family and considerable property
to America. His property, he told me, the sau
Mr. Hulme had got from the English Government, fo
the invention of some machine, and that now, having
got rich under their patronage, he was going about this
country doing the said Government all the mischief he
could, and endeavouring to promote the interest of
this country. After letting him go on till I was quite
satisfied that he depends mainly for his bread and but
ter upon the English Treasury, I said, " Well, do you
" know this Mr. Hulme ? " " No, he had only heard of
" him." "Then 1 do, and I know that he never had
" any patent, nor ever asked for one, from the En-
" glish government ; all he has got he has gained by
" his own industry and economy, and, so far from re-
" ceiving a fortune from that vile government, he had
" nothing to do with it but to pay and obey, without
" being allowed to give a vote for a Member of Par-
" liament or for any Government officer. He is now,
" thank God, in a country where he cannot be taxed
" but by his own consent, and, if he should succeed
" in contributing in any degree to the downfall of the
" English Government, and to the improvement of
" this country, he will only succeed in doing his duty.'
This man could be no other than a dependant of thai
boroughmongermg system which has its feelers probing
©very quarter and corner of the earth.
566. August 8th. — Return to Philadelphia, after a
journey of 72 days. My expenses for this journey,
including every thing, not excepting the loss sustained
by the purchase and sale of my horse, amount to 270
dollars and 70 cents.
597. As it is now about a twelvemonth since I have
308 JOURNAL. [Part III.
been settled in Philadephia, or set foot in it, rather,
with my family, I will take a look at my books, and
add to this Journal what have been the expenses of my
family for this one year, from the time of landing to
this day, inclusive.
Dolls. Cents.
House-rent 600 0
Fuel 137 0
Schooling (at day-schools) for my
children viz. ; for Thomas, 14 Doiis.
years of age 40
Peter and John, ages of 12 and 1O 48
Sarah, 6 years of age 18 — 106 0
Boarding of all my family at Mrs. An
thony's Hotel for about a week, on
our arrival 80 0
Expenses of house-keeping (my family
fourteen in number,including two ser
vants) with every other out-going not
enumerated above, travelling inci
dents, two newspapers a day, &c. &c. 2076 66
Taxes, not a cent, 0 O
Priest, not a cent 0 0
Total 2999 66
568. " What ! nothing to the Parson ! " some of my
old neighbours will exclaim. No : not a single stiver.
The Quakers manage their affairs without Parsons, and
1 believe they are as good and as happy a people as
any religious denomination who are aided and assisted
by a Priest. I do not suppose that the Quakers will
admit me into their Society ; but, in this free country
I can form a new society, if I choose, and, if I do, it
certainly shall be a Society having a Chairman in
place of a Parson, and the assemblage shall discuss
the subject of their meeting themselves. Why should
there not be as much knowledge and wisdom and com
mon sense, in the heads of a whole congregation, as in
the head of a Parson ? Ah, but then there are the
profits arising from the trade ! Some of this holy Or
der in England receive upwards of 40,000 dollars per
Part 11I.J JOURNAL. 309
annum lor preaching probably not more than five or six
sermons dining the whole year. Well may the Cossack
Priests represent Old England as the bulwark of reli
gion ! This is the sort of religion they so much dreaded
the loss of during the French Revolution ; and this is
the sort of religion they so zealously expected to esta
blish in America, when they received the glad tidings of
the restoration of the Bourbons and the Pope.
END OF THE JOURNAL.
310 LETTER TO [Part III.
TO
MORRIS BIRKBECK, ESQ.
OF
ENGLISH PRAIRIE, ILLINOIS TERRITORY.
North Hempstead, Long Island,
10 Dec. 1818.
MY DEAR SIR,
569. I HAVE read your two little books, namely, the
" Notes on a Journey in America," " and the Letters
" from the Illinois." I opened the books, and 1 pro
ceeded in the persnal, with fear and trembling; not
because I supposed it possible for you to put forth an
intended imposition on the world ; but because 1 had
a sincere respect for the character and talents of the
writer ; and because 1 knew how enchanting and de
lusive are the prospects of enthusiastic minds, when
bent on grand territorial acquisitions.
570. My apprehensions were, I am sorry to have it
to say, but too well founded. Your books, written T am
sure, without any intention to deceive and decoy, and
without any, even the smallest, tincture of base self-inte
rest, are, in my opinion, calculated to produce great dis
appointment, not to say misery and ruin, amongst our
own country people (for I will, in spite of your disa
vowal, still claim the honour of having you for a country
man,) and great injury to America by sending back to
Europe accounts ot that disappointment, misery, and ruin.
571. It is very true, that you decline advising any
one to go to the ILLINOIS, and it is also true, that your
description of the hardships you encountered is very
candid ; but still there runs throughout the whole of
your Notes such an account as to the prospect, that
is to say the ultimate effect, that the book is, without
your either wishing or perceiving it, calculated to de-
Part III.] MORRIS BIRKBECK, ESQ. 311
ceive and decoy. You do indeed describe difficulties
and hardships ; but, then, you overcome them all with so
much ease and gaiety, that you make them disregarded
by your English readers, who, sitting by their lire-side,
and feeling nothing but the gripe or the Boroughmon-
gers and the tax-gatherer, merely cast a glance at your
hardships and fully participate in all your enthusiasm.
You do indeed fairly describe the rugged roads, the
dirty hovels, the fire in the woods to sleep by, the path
less ways through the wildernesses, the dangerous cross
ings of the rivers ; but, there are the beautiful mea
dows and rich lands at last ; there is the fine freehold
domain at the end ! There are the giants and the en
chanters to encounter ; the slashings and the rib-roast-
ings to undergo ; but then, there is, at last, the lovely
languishing damsel to repay the adventurer.
57-. The whole of your writings relative to your
undertaking, address themselves directly to English,
Farmers, who have property to the amount of two or
three thousand pounds, or upwards. Persons of this
description are, not by your express words, but by the
natural tendency of your writings, invited, nay, strongly
invited, ta emigrate with their property to the Illinois
Territory. Many have already acted upon the invita
tion. Many others are about to follow them. 1 am
convinced, that their doing this is unwise, and greatly
injurious, not only to them, but to the character of
America as a country to emigrate to, and, as I have,
in the first Part of this work, promised to give, as far
as I am able, a true account of America, it is my duty
to state the reasons on which this conviction is founded ;
and, 1 address the statement to you, in order, that, if
you find it erroneous, you may, in the like public man
ner, show wherein I have committed error.
o73. We are speaking, my dear Sir, of English Far
mers possessing each two or three thousand pounds sterl
ing. And, before we proceed to enquire, whether such
persons ought to emigrate to the West or to the East, it
may not be amiss to enquire a little, whether they ought
to emigrate at all! Do not start now ! For, while I am
very certain that the emigration of such persons is not, in
312 LETTER TO [Part III.
the end calculated to produce benefit to America, as a
nation, I greatly doubt of its being, generally speaking,
of any benefit to the emigrants themselves, if we take
into view the chances of their speedy relief at home.
5?4. Persons of advanced age, of settled habits, of
deep rooted prejudices, of settled acquaintances, of con
tracted sphere of movement, do not, to use Mr. GEORGE
FLOWER'S expression, " transplant well '." Of all such
persons, Farmers transplant worst ; and, of all Farmers
English Farmers are the worst to transplant. Of some
of the tears, shed in the ILLINOIS, an account reached
me several months ago, through an eye-witness of per
fect veracity, and a very sincere friend of freedom, and
of you, and w7hose information was given me, unasked
for, and in the presence of several Englishmen, every
one of whom, as well as myself, most ardently wished
your success.
575. It is nothing, my dear Sir, to say, as you do, in
the Preface to the Letters from the Illinois, that as
" little would I encourage the emigration of the tribe of
" grumblers, people who are petulant and discontented
" under the every-day evils of life. Life has its petty
" miseries in all situations and climates, to be miti-
" gated or cured by the continual efforts of an elastic
" spirit, or to be borne, if incurable, with cheerful pa-
" tience. But the peevish emigrant is perpetually
" comparing the comforts he has quitted, but never
" could enjoy, with the privations -of his new allotment.
" He overlooks the present good, and broods over the
" evil with habitual perverseness ; whilst in the recol-
" lection of the past, he dwells on the good only. Such
<c people are always bad associates, but they are an
" especial nuisance in an infant colony."
576. Give me leave to say, my dear Sir, that there
is too much asperity in this language, considering who
were the objects of the censure. Nor do you appear
to me to afford, in this instance, a very happy illustra
tion of the absence of that peevishness, which you per
ceive in others, and for the yielding to which you call
them a nuisance ; an appellation much too harsh for
the object and for the occasion. If you with all, your
Part III.] MORRIS BIRKBECK, ESQ. 313
elasticity of spirit, all your ardour of pursuit, all your
compensations of fortune in prospect, and all your gra
tifications of fame in possession, cannot with patience
hear the waitings of some of your neighbours, into what
source are they to dip for the waters of content and
good-humour '?
577. It is no " everyday evil " that they have to bear.
For an English Farmer, and, more especially an Eng
lish Farmer's wife, after crossing the sea and travel
ling to the Illinois, with the consciousness of having
expended a third of their substance, to purchase, as yet,
nothing but sufferings ; for such persons to boil their
pot in the gipsy-fashion, to have a mere board to
eat on, to drink whisky or pure water, to sit and sleep
under a shed far inferior to their English cow-pens, to
have a mill at twenty miles' distance, an apothecary's
shop at a hundred, and a doctor no where : these, my dear
Sir, are not, to such people " every -day evils of life.'7
You, though in your little " cabin," have your books,
you have your name circulating in the world, you have it
to be given, by and bye, to a city or a county ; and, if
you fail of brilliant success, you have still a sufficiency of
fortune to secure you a safe retreat. Almost the whole of
your neighbours must be destitute of all these sources of
comfort, hope and consolation. As they now are, their
change is, and must be, for the worse ; and, as to the fu
ture, besides the uncertainty attendant, every where, on
that which is to come, they ought to be excused, if they,
at their age, despair of seeing days as happy as those
that they have seen.
578. It were much better for such people not to emi
grate at all ; for while they are sure to come into a
state of some degree of suffering, they leave behind
them the chance of happy days ; and, in my opinion,
a certainty of such days. I think it next to impossible
for any man of tolerable information to believe, that
the present tyranny of the seat-owners can last another
two years. As to what change will take place, it would
perhaps, be hard to say : but, that some great change
will come is certain ; and, it is also certain, that the
change must be for the better. Indeed, one of the mo-
o
314 LETTER TO [Part III-
tives for the emigration of many is said to be, that they
think a convulsion inevitable. Why should such per
sons as I am speaking of fear a convulsion? Why should
they suppose, that they will suffer by a convulsion ? WThat
have they done to provoke the rage of the blanketteers ?
Do they think that their countrymen, all but themselves,
will be transformed into prowling wolves? This is precise
ly what the Boroughmongers wish them to believe ; and,
believing it,thev/fee instead of remaining to assist to keep
the people down,as the Boroughmongers wish them to do.
579. Being here, however, they, as you say, think only
of the good they have left behind them, and of the bad
they find here. This is no fault of theirs : it is the natural
course of the human mind ; and this you ought to have
known. You yourself acknowledge, that England " was
"never so dear to you as it is now in recollection:
" being no longer under its base oligarchy, I can think
" of my native country and her noble institutions, apart
" from her politics." 1 may ask you, by the way, what
noble institutions she has, which are not of & political
nature ? Say the oppressions of her tyrants, say that
you can think of her and love her renown and her famous
political institutions, apart from those oppressions, and
then i go with you with all my heart ; but, so thinking
and so feeling, 1 cannot say with you in your NOTES,
that England is to me " matter of history " nor with
you, in your LETTERS FROM THE ILLINOIS, that
"• where liberty is, there is my country.7'
580. But, leaving this matter, for the present, if
English Farmers must emigrate, why should they en
counter unnecessary difficulties ? Coming from a
country like a garden, why should they not stop in
another somewhat resembling that which they have lived
in before ? \Vhy should they, at an expense amounting
to a large part of what they possess, prowl two thousand
miles at the hazard of their limbs and lives, take women
and children through scenes of hardship and distress
not easily described, and that too, to live like gipsies at
the end of their journey, for, at least, a year or two, and,
as I think I shall show without the smallest chance of
their finally doing so well as they may do in these
Part [11.] MORRIS BIRKBECK, ESQ. 313
Atlantic States ? Why should an English Farmer and
his family, who have always been jogging about a snug
home-stead, eating regular meals, and sleeping in warm
rooms, push back to the Illinois, and encounter those
hardships, which require all the habitual disregard of
comfort of an American back-woodsman to overcome ?
Why should they do this ? The undertaking is hardly
recoucileable to reason in an Atlantic American Farmer
who has half a dozen sons, all brought up to use the
axe, the saw, the chisel and the hammer from their in
fancy, and every one of whom is ploughman, carpenter,
wheelwright and butcher, and can work from sun-rise
to sun-set, and sleep, if need be, upon the bare boards.
What, then, must it be in an English farmer and his
family of helpless mortals ? Helpless, 1 mean, in this
scene of such novelty and such difficulty ? And what
is his wife to do ; she who has been torn from all her
relations and neighbours, and from every thing that she
liked in the world, and who, perhaps, has never, in all
her life before, been ten miles from the cradle in which
she w as nursed ? An American farmer mends his
plough, his wagon, his tackle of all sorts, his household
goods, his shoes ; and, if need be, he makes them all.
Can our people do all this, or any part of it? Can they live
without bread for months ? Can they live without beer ?
Can they be otherwise than miserable, cut off, as they
must be, from all intercourse with, and hope of hearing
of, their relations and friends? The truth is, that this is
not transplanting, it is tearing up and flinging away.
581. Society! What society can these people have?
is true they have nobody to envy, for nobody can
have any thing to enjoy. But there may be, and there
must be, mutual complainings and upbraidings ; and
every unhappiness will be traced directly to him who
has been, however unintentionally the cause of the
unhappy person's removal. The very foundation of
your plan necessarily contained the seeds of discontent
and ill-will. A colony all from the same country was
the very worst project that could have been fallen upon.
You took upon yourself the charge of Moses without
being invested with any 'part of his authority ; and
316 LETTER TO [Part 111.
absolute as this was, he found the charge so heavy, that
he called upon the Lord to share it with him, or to relieve
him from it altogether. Soon after you went out, an
Unitarian Priest, upon my asking what you were going
to do in that wild country, said, you were going to form
a community, who would be " content to worship one
"God." "I hope not," said I, "for he will have
" plagues enough without adding a priest to the num-r
" her." But, perhaps, I was wrong: for AARON was
of great assistance to the leader of the Israelites.
5S2. As if the inevitable effects of disappointment
and hardship wrere not sufficient, you had, too, a sort of
partnership in the leaders. This is sure to produce feuds
and bitterness in the long run. Partnership sovereignties
have furnished the world with numerous instances of
poisonings and banishments and rottings in prison. It
is as much as merchants, who post their books every
Sunday, can do to get along without quarrelling. Of
man and wife, though they are flesh of flesh and bone of
bone, the harmony is not always quite perfect, except in
France, where the husband is. the servant, and in Ger
many and Prussia, where the wife is the slave. But, as for
a partnership sovereignty without disagreement, there is
but one single instance upon record ; that, I mean, was
of the two kings ofBrentjbrd, whose cordiality was, you
know, so perfect, that they both smelt to the same nose
gay. This is, my dear Sir, no bantering. I am quite seri
ous. It is impossible that separations should not take
place, and equally impossible that the neighbourhood
should not be miserable. This is not the way to settle jn
America. The way is, to go and sit yourself down amongst
the natives. They are already settled. They can lend you
what you want to borrow, and happy they are always to
doit. And, which is the great thing of all great things,
you have their ivotnen for your women to commune with !
583. RAPP, indeed, has done great things; butRAPP
has the authority of Moses and that of Aaron united in
his own person. Besides, Rapp's community observe
in reality that celibacy, which Monks and Nuns pretend
to, though I am not going to take my oath, mind, that
none of the tricks of the Convent are ever played in
Part III.] MORRIS BIRKBECK, ESQ. 317
the tabernacles of Harmony. At any rate. Rapp secures
the effects of celibacy ; first, an absence of the expense
attending the breeding and rearing of children, and,
second, uoremitted labour of woman as well as man.
But, where, in all the world, is the match of this to be
found ? Where else shall we look for a Society com
posed of persons willing and able to forego the gra
tification of the most powerful propensity of nature,
for the sake of getting money together ? Where else
shall we look for a band of men and women who love
money better than their own bodies ? Better than their
souls we find people enough to love money; but, who
ever before heard of a set that preferred the love of
money to that of their bodies ? Who, before, ever con
ceived the idea of putting a stop to the procreation of
children, for the sake of saving the expense of bearing and
breeding them ? This Society, which is a perfect prodigy
and monster, ought to have the image of MA MA] ON
in their place of worship ; for that is the object of their
devotion, and not the God of nature. Yet the persons
belonging to this unnatural association are your nearest
neighbours. The masculine things here called women,
who have imposed barrenness on themselves, our of a pure
love of gain, are the nearest neighbours of the affectionate,
tender-hearted wives and mothers and daughters, who are
to inhabit your colony, and who are, let us thank God,
the very reverse of the petticoated Germans of Harmony.
584. In such a situation, with so many circumstances
to annoy, what happiness can an English family enjoy
in that country, so far distant from all that resembles
what they ha^e left behind them ? " The fair Enchant-
" ress, Liberty " of whom you speak with not too much
rapture, they would have found in any of these States,
and, in a garb, too, by which they would have recognised
her. Where they now are, they are free indeed ; but
their freedom is that of the wild animals in your woods.
It is not freedom, it is no government. The GIPSIES,
in England, are free; and any one, who has a mind to
live in a cave, or cabin, in some hidden recess of otir
Hampshire forests, may be free too. The English
farmer, in the Illinois^ is, indeed, beyond the reach of
318 LETTER TO [Part II L
the Boroughmongers ; and so is the man that is in the
grave. When it was first proposed, in the English Minis
try, to drop quietly the title of King of France in the
enumeration of our king's titles, and, when it was stated
to be an expedient likely to tend to a peace, Mr. WIND-
HAM, who was then a member of the Cabinet, said:
" As this is a measure of safety, and as, doubtless, we
" shall hear of others of the same cast, what think you of
" going underground at once?" It was a remark enough
to cut the liver out of the hearers ; but Pitt and his as
sociates had no livers. I do not believe, that any twelve
Journeymen, or Labourers, in England would have voted
for the adoption of this mean and despicable measure.
585. If, indeed, the Illinois were the only place out
of the reach of the Borough-grasp ; and, if men are re
solved to get out of that reach ; then, I should say, Ga
to the Illinois, by all means. But, as there is a country
a settled country, a free country full of kind neighbours/,
full of all that is good • and when this country is to be
traversed in order to get at thfe acknowledged hardships
of the Illinois, how can a sane mind lead an English
Farmer into the expedition ?
580. It is the enchanting damtfel that makes the
knight encounter the hair-breadth scapes, tke sleeping
on the ground, the cooking with cross-sticks to hang the
pot on. It is the Prairie, that pretty French word,
•which means green grass bespangled with daisies and
cowslips ! Oh, God ! what delusion ! And that a man.
of sense ; a man of superior understanding and talent ;•
a man of honesty, honour, humanity, and lofty senti
ment, should be the cause of this delusion : I, my dear
Sir, have seen Prairies many years ago, in America*,
as fine as yours, as fertile as yours, though not so ex
tensive. I saw those Prairies settled on by American
Loyalists, who were carried, with all their goods and
tools to the spot, and who were furnished with four years'
provisions, all at the expense of England ; who had the
lands given them', tools given them; and who were
thus seated down on the borders of creeks, which gave
them easy communication with the inhabited plains near
the sea. The settlers that I particularly knew were
Part III.] MORRIS BIRKBECK, ESQ. 319
Connecticut men. Men with families of sons. Men
able to do as much in a day at the works necessary in
their situation as so many Englishmen would be able to
do in a week. They began with &shed; then rose to a
log-house; and next to & frame-house ; all of their own
building. I have seen them manure their land with
Salmon caught in their creeks, and with Pigeons caught
on the land itself. It will be a long while before you will
see such beautiful Cornfields as I saw there. Yet no
thing but the danger and disgrace which attended their
return to Connecticut prevented their returning, though
there they must have begun the world anew. 1 saw them
in their log-huts, and saw them in their frame-houses.
They had overcome all their difficulties as settlers ; they
were under a government which required neither tax
nor service from them ; they were as happy as people
could be as to ease and plenty; but, still, they sighed
for Connecticut ; and especially the women, young as
well as old, though we, gay fellows with worsted or sil
ver lace upon our bright red coats, did our best to make
them happy by telling them entertaining stories about Old
England, while we drank their coffee and grog by gallons,
and eat their fowls, pigs, and sausages and sweetmeats,
by wheel-barrow loads ; for, though we were by no
means shy, their hospitality far exceeded our appetites.
I am an old hand at the work of settling in wilds. I
have more than once or twice, had to begin my nest and
go in like a bird, making it habitable by degrees ; and,
ifl, or, if such people as my old friends above-mention
ed, with every thing found for them and brought to the
spot, had difficulties to undergo, and sighed for home
even after all the difficulties were over, what must be
the lot of an English Farmer's family in the Illinois?
587. All this 1 told you, my dear Sir, in London just
before your departure. J begged of you and Mr. Richard
Flower both, not to think of theWildernesses. I begged
of you to go to within a day's ride of some of these great
cities, where your ample capital and your great skill
could not fail to place you upon a footing, at least, with
the richest amongst the most happy and enlightened
yeomanry in the world ; were you would find every one
320 LETTER TO [Part III.
to praise the improvements you would introduce, and
nobody to envy you any thing that you might acquire.
Where you would rind society as good, in all respects, as
that which you had left behind you. Where you would
find neighbours ready prepared for you far more gene
rous and hospitable than those in England can be, load
ed and pressed down as they are by the inexorable hand of
the Borough-villians. I offered you a letter (which I be
lieve, I sent you), to my friends the PAULS. "But,"said I
" you want no letter. Go into Philadelphia, or Bucks, or
" Chester, or Montgomery county ; tell any of the Qua-
" kers, or any body else, that you are an English Far-
a mer, come to settle amongst them ; and I'll engage
u that you will instantly have friends and neighbours as
" good and as cordial as those thatyou leave in England."
588. At this very moment, if this plan had been per-
sued, you would have had a beautiful farm of two or
three hundred acres. Fine stock upon it feeding on
Swedish Turnips. A house overflowing with abun
dance ; comfort, ease, and, if )ou chose, elegance,
would have been your inmates ; libraries, public and
private within your reach ; and a communication with
England much mere quick and regular than that which
you now have even with Pittsburgh.
589. You say, that, " Philadelphians know nothing
" of the Western Countries." Suffer me, then, to say,
that you know nothing of the Atlantic States, which,
indeed, is the only apology for your saying, that the
Americans have no mutton Jit to eat, and regard it only
as a thing jit jor dogs. In this island every farmer has
sheep, i kill fatter lamb than I ever saw in England,
and the fattest mutton I ever saw, was in company
with Mr. Marline, in Philadelphia market last winter.
At BRIGHTON, near Boston, they produced, at a cattle
show this fall, an ox of two thousand seven hundred
pounds weight, and sheep much finer, than you and
1 saw at the Smithfield Show in 1814. Mr. Judge
Lawrence of this county, has kept, for seven years,
an average of Jive hundred Merinos on his farm of one
hundred and fifty acres, besides raising twenty acres
of Corn and his usual pretty large proportion of grain !
Part III.] MORRIS BIRKBECK, ESQ. 321
Can your Western Farmers beat that? Yes, in extent,
as the surface of five dollars beats that of a guinea.
590. 1 suppose that Mr. Judge Lawrence's farm,
close by the side of a bay that gives him two hours of
water carriage to New York ; a farm with twenty acres
of meadow, real prairie ; a gentleman's house and
garden ; barns, sheds, cider-house, stables, coach-house,
corn-cribs, and orchards that may produce from four
to eight thousand bushels of apples and pears : I sup
pose, that this farm is worth three hundred dollars an
acre : that is, forty-five thousand dollars ; or, about
twelve or thirteen thousand pounds.
591. Now, then, let us take a look at your estimate
of the expenses of sitting down in the prairies.
Cop i/ from my Memorandum Book.
592. Estimate of money required for the comfortable
establishment of my family on Bolting House, now
English, prairie ; on which the first instalment is paid.
About 720 acres of wood-land, aiid 720 prairie; — the
latter to be chiefly grass : —
Dollars.
Second instalment, . . . August 1819, 720
Third ditto August 1 820, 720
Fourth ditto August 1821, 720
2,160
Dwelling-house and appurtenances .... 4,500
Other buildings 1^>00
4680 rods of fencing, viz. 3400 on the prairie,
and 1280 round the woodland 1,170
Sundry wells, 200 dollars ; gates 100 dollars ;
cabins, 200 dollars 500
100 head of cattle, 900 dollars ; 20 sows, &c.
100 dollars; sheep, 1000 dollars .... 2,000
Ploughs, wagons, &c. and sundry tools and im
plements 270
Housekeeping until the land supplies us . . 1,000
Shepherd one year's wages, herdsmen one year,
and sundry other labourers . . . . . . 1,000
One cabinet-maker, one wheel-wright, one year,
making furniture and implements 300 dollars
each 600
Carried over . . . 14,700
o 5
322 LETTER TO [Part III.
Dollars.
Brought over . . . 14,700
Sundry articles of furniture, ironmongery, pot
tery, glass, &c 500
Sundries, fi uit trees, &c 100
First instalment already paid 720
Five horses on hand, worth 300
Expense of freight and carriage of linen, bed
ding, books, clothing, &c 1,000
Value of articles brought from England . . . 4,500
Voyage and journey £,000
Dol. 23,820
23,820 dollars=c£5,359 sterling.
Allow about 600 dollars more for ^ j41
seed and corn f
,£5,500
5Q3. So, here is more than one-third of the amount
of Mr. Judge Lawrence's farm. To be sure, there are
only about 18,000 dollars expended on land, buildings^
and getting at them ; but, what a life is that which you
are to lead for a thousand dollars a-year, when two
good domestic servants will cost four hundred of the
money ? Will you live like one of the Yeomen of your
rank here ? Then, I assure you, that your domestics
and groceries (the latter three times as dear as they are
here) and crockery-ware (equally dear) will more than
swallow up that pitiful sum. You allow six thousand
dollars for buildings. Twice the sum would not put
you, in this respect, upon a footing with Mr. Lawrence.
His land is all completely fenced and his grain in the
ground. His apple-trees have six thousand bushels of
apples in their buds, ready to come out in the spring ;
and, a large part of these to be sold at a high price to
go on ship-board. But, what is to give you his market?
What is to make your pork, as soon as killed, sell for
9 or 10 dollars a hundred, and your cows at 46 or 50
dollars each, and your beef at 7 or 8 dollars a hundred,
and your corn at a dollar, and wheat at two dollars a
bushel ?
594. However, happiness is in the mind; and, if it
be necessary to the gratification of your mind to inhabit
Part III.] MORRIS BIRKBECK, ESQ. 323
a wilderness and be the owner of a large tract of land
you are right to seek and enjoy this gratification, but,
for the plain, plodding English Farmer, who simply
seeks safety for his little property, with some addition to
it for his children ; for such a person to cross the At
lantic states in search of safety, tranquillity and gain in
the Illinois, is, to my mind, little short of madness. Yet,
to this mad enterprize is he allured by your captivating
statements, and which statements become decisive in
their effects upon* his mind, when they are reduced to
figures. This, my dear Sir, is the part of your writings,
which has given me most pain. You have not meant to
deceive ; but you have first practised a deceit upon your
self, and then upon others. All the disadvantages you
state ; but, then, you accompany the statement by telling
us how quickly and how easily they will be overcome.
Salt, Mr. HULME finds, even at ZANESVILLE, at tivo
dollars and a half a bushel; but, you tell us, that it soon will
be at three quarters of a dollar. And thus it goes all through.
59-5. I am happy, however, that you have given us
figures in your account of what an English farmer may
do with two thousand pounds. It is alluring, it is fal
lacious, it tends to disappointment, misery, ruin and
broken hec rts ; but it is open and honest in intention,
and it aifcvds us the means of detecting and exposing the
fallacy. Many and many a family have returned to
New England after having emigrated to the West in
search vfjine estates. They, able workmen, exemplary
livers, have returned to labour in their native States
amongst their relations and old neighbours ; but, what
are our poor ruined countrymen to do, when they be
come pennyless ? If I could root my country from my
heart, common humanity would urge me to make an
humble attempt to dissipate the charming delusions,
which have, without your perceiving it, gone forth from
your sprightly and able pen, and which delusions are
the more dangerous on account of your justly high and
well-known character for understanding and integrity*
596. The statement, to which I allude, stands as fol
lows, in your tenth Letter from the Illinois.
597. A capital of 2000/. sterling, (8,889) dollars,
324 LETTER TO [Part III.
may be invested on a section of such land, in the fol
lowing manner, viz.
Dollars.
Purchase of the land, 640 acres, at 2 dollars
per acre 1280
House and buildings, exceedingly convenient
and comfortable, may be built for . . . 1500
A rail fence round the woods, 1000 rods, at 25
cents per rod 250
About 1800 rods of ditch and bank, to divide the
arable land into 10 fields 600
Planting 1800 rods of live fence 150
Fruit trees for orchard, &c 100
Horses and other live stock 1500
implements and furniture 1000
Provision for one year, and sundry incidental
charges . . 1000
Sundry articles of linen, books, apparel, imple
ments, &c. brought from England . . . 1000
Carriage of ditto, suppose 2000 Ib. at 10 dollars
per cwt 200
Voyage and travelling expenses of one person,
suppose 309
8889
'Note. — The first instalment on the land is 320
dollars, therefore 960 dollars of the purchase
money remain in hand to be applied to the
expenses of cultivation, in addition to the
sums above stated.
Expenditure of first year.
Breaking up 100 acres, 2 dollars per acre . . 200
Jndian corn for seed, 5 barrels, (a barrel is five
bushels) lf
Planting ditto 25
Horse-hoeing ditto, one dollar per acre ... 100
Harvesting ditto, 1| dollar per acre .... 150
Ploughing the same land for wheat, 1 dollar per
acre ....... ^ 100
Seed wheat, sowing and harrowing .... 175
Incidental expenses 240
1000
Part LII.J MORRIS BIRKBECK, ESQ. 325
Produce of first Year. Dollars.
100 acres of Indian corn, 50 bushels (or 10 bar
rels) per acre, at £ dollars per barrel . . . 2000
Net produce 1000
Expenditure of second Year.
Breaking up 100 acres for Indian corn, with
Expenses on that crop 485
Harvesting and threshing wheat, 1 00 acres . . 360
Ploughing 100 acres for wheat, seed, 8cc. , . 275
Incidents 290
1400
Produce of second I car.
100 acres Indian corn, 10 barrels per
acre, 2 dollars per barrel .... 2000
100 acres wheat, 20 bushels per acre,
75 dollars per barrel 1500 — 3500
Net produce (2iOO
Expenditure of third Year.
Breaking up 100 acres as before, with expenses
on crop of Indian corn 485
Ploughing iOO acres of wheat stubble for Indian
Com 100
Horse-hoeing, harvesting, &c. ditto . . . 285
Harvesting and threshing 100 acres wheat . . 350
Dung-carting 100 acres for wheat, after second
crop of Indian corn 200
Ploughing 200 acres wheat, seed, &c. . . 550
Incidents 330
2300
Produce of third year.
200 acres of Indian corn, 10 barrels per
acre, 2 dollars per barrel .... 4000
100 acres wheat, 20 bushels per acre,
75 dollars per barrel 1500—5500
Net produce 3200
Expenditure of fourth Year.
As the third . , . . 2300
Carried over . 2300
326 LETTER TO [Part III.
Dollars
Brought over . . . £300
Harvesting and threshing 100 acres more
wheat 350
Additional incidents 50
2700
Produce of fourth year.
200 acres Indian corn, as above .... 4000
200 acres wheat 3000 — 7000
Net. produce 4300
Summary.
EXPENSES PRODUCE.
Dollars. Dollars.
First year 1000 . . 2000
Second 1400 . . 3500
Third 2300. . . 5500
Fourth ....... 2700 . . 7000
18", 000
House-keeping and other
Expenses for four years . 4000 11,400
Net proceeds per annum 1650
Increasing value of land by cultivation and set
tlements, half a dollar per aim. on 640 acres 320
Annual clear profit 1970
5Q8. " Twenty more : kill 'em ! Twenty more : kill
" them too '" No : I will not compare you to BOBADIL:
for he was an intentional deceiver ; and you are unin-
tentionaly deceiving others and yourself too. But,
really, there is in this statement something so extrava
gant ; so perfectly wild ; so ridiculously and staringly
untrue, that it is not without a great deal of difficulty that
all my respect for you personally can subdue in me the
temptation to treat it with the contempt due to its in
trinsic demerits.
599. I shall notice only a few of the items. A honse,
you say, "exceedingly convenient and comfortable,
" together with farm-buildings, may be built for 1500
" dollars.'* Your own intended house you estimate at
4500, and your out-buildings Tit 1500. So that, if this
house of the farmer (an English farmer, mind) and his
Part III.] MORRIS BIRKBECK, ESQ. 327
buildings, are to be u exceedingly convenient and com-
c> * O /
Jbrtable,"for 1500 dollars, your house and buildings must
be on a scale, which, if not perfectly prince/ 1/, must sa
vour a good deal of aristocratical distinction. But, this if
relieves us ; for even your house, built of pine timber and
boards, and covered with cedar shingles, and finished only
as a good plain farm-house ought to be, will, if it be
thirty-six feet front, thirty four-feet deep, two rooms in
front, kitchen and wash-house behind, four rooms above,
and a cellar beneath ; yes this house alone, the bare
empty house, with doors and windows suitable, will cost
you more than six thousand dollars. I state this upon
good authority. I have taken the estimate of a building
carpenter. " What Carpenter ?" you will say. Why, a
Long Island carpenter, and the house to be built within
a mile of Brooklyn, or two miles of New York. And
this is giving you all the advantage, for here the pine is
cheaper than with you ; the shingles cheaper ; the lime
and stone and brick as cheap or cheaper ; the glass, iron,
lead, brass and tin, all at half or a quarter of the Prairie
price : and, as to labour, if it be not cheaper here than
with you, men would do well not to go so far in search
of high wages !
600. Let no simple Englishman imagine, that here,
at and near New York, in this dear place, we have to
pay for the boards and timber brought from a distance :
and that you, the happy people of the land of daisies and
cowslips, can cut down your own good and noble oak
trees upon the spot, on your own estates, and turn them
into houses without any carting. Let no simple Eng
lishman believe such idle stones as this. To dissipate
all such notions, 1 have only to tell him, that the Ame
rican farmers on this island, when they have buildings
to make or repair, go and purchase the pine timber and
boards, at the very same time that they cut down their
own oak trees and cleave up and burn them as fire
wood. This is the universal practice in all the parts of
America that I have ever seen. What is the cause ?
Pine wood is cheaper, though bought, than the oak is
without buying. This fact, which nobody can deny, is
a complete proof that you gain no advantage from being
LETTER TO [Part III.
in woods, as far as building is concerned. And the truth
is, that the boards and plank, which have been used in
the Prairie have actual 1 1/ been brought from the W abash t
charged with ten miles rough land carriage : how far
they may have come down the Wabash I cannot tell.
Thus, then, the question is settled that building
must be cheaper here than in the Illinois. If, there
fore, a house, 36 by 34 feet, cost here 6000 dollars,
what can a man get there for 1500 dollars ? A mise
rable hole and no more. But, here are to be farm-
buildings and all, in the 1500 dollars' worth! A barn 5
40 feet by 30, with floor, and with stables in the sides,
cannot be built for 1500 dollars, leaving cut wagon-
house, corn-crib, cattle -hovels, yard fences, pig-sties,
smoke house, and a great deal more ! And yet, you
say, that all these, and a farm-house into the foirgain,
all " exceedingly comfortable and convenient, ' maybe
had for 1500 dollars!
602. Now, you know, my dear Sir, that this is said
in the face of all America. Farmers are my readers.
They all understand these matters. They are not only
good, but impartial judges ; and I call upon you to con
tradict, or even question, my statements, if you can.
603. Do my eyes deceive me? Or do 1 really see
one hundred andjifty dollars put down as the expense
of "planting one thousand eight hundred rod of lite
"fence"? That is to say, nine cents, or four pane
halfpenny sterling a lod ! What plants ? Whence to
come? Drawn out of the woods, or first sown in a
nursery ? Is it seed to be sown ? Wherj are the seeds
to come from ? No levelling of the top of the bank ;
no drill : no sowing ; no keeping clean for a year or
two : or, all these for nine cents a rod, when the same
works cost half a dollar a rod in England !
604. Manure too ! And do you really want manure
then ? And where, I pray you, are you to get manure
for 100 acres ? But, supposing you to have it, do you
seriously mean to tell us that you will carry it on for
two dollars an acre ? The carrying on, indeed, might
perhaps be done for that, but who pays for the jilting
and for the spreading ? Ah ! my dear Sir, I can well
Part III.] MORRIS BIRKBECK, ESQ. 329
imagine your feelings at putting down the item of dung-
carting, trifling as you make it appear upon paper.
You now recollect my words when I last had the
pleasure of seeing you, in Catherine-street, a few days
before the departure of us both. I then dreaded the
dung-cart, and recommended the Tullian System to
you, by which you would have the same crops every
year, without manure ; but, unfortunately for my ad
vice, you sincerely believed your land would be already
too rich, and that your main difficulty would be, not to
curt on manure, but to cart off the produce !
(JOJ. After this, it appears unnecessary for me to
notice any other part of this Transalleganian romance,
which I might leave to the admiration of the Edinburgh
Reviewers, wrhose knowledge of these matters is quite
equal to what they have discovered as to the Funding
System and Paper Money. But when I think of the
flocks of poor English farmers, who are tramping
away towards an imaginary, across a real, land of milk
and honey, I cannot lay down the pen, till I have no
ticed an item or two of the produce.
606. The farmer is to have 100 acres of Indian
corn, the first year. The minds of you gentlemen who
cross the Allegauy seem to expand, as it were, to cor
respond with the extent of the horizon that opens to
your view ; but, I can assure you, that if you were to
talk to a fanner on this side of the mountains of a field
of Corn of a hundred acres during the first year of a
settlement, with grassy land and hands scarce, you
wou;d frighten him into a third-day ague. In goes your
Corn, however ! " Twenty more : kill 'em ! " Nothing
but ploughing : no harrowing ; no marking ; and only
a horse-hoeing, during the summer, at a dollar an acre.
The planting is to cost only a quarter of a dollar an acre.
The planting will cost a dollar an acre. The horse-
hoeing in your grassy land, two dollars. The hand-
hoeing, which must be well done, or you will have no
corn, two dollars ; for, in spite of your teeth, your ram
pant natural grass will be up before your corn, and a
man must go to a thousand hills to do hcflf an acre a
day. It will cost two dollars to harvest a hundred bushels
330 LETTER TO [Part III.
of corn ears. So that here are about 400 dollars of ex
penses on the corn alone, to be added. A trijie, to be
sure, when we are looking through the Transalleganian
glass, which diminishes out-goings and magnifies in
comings. However, here are four hundred dollars.
607- In goes the plough for wheat? " In him again !
" Twenty more ! " But, this is in October mind. Is
the Corn off ? It may be ; but, where are thefou?' hun
dred wagon loads of corn stalks ? A prodigiously fine
thing is this forest of fodder, as high and as thick as an
English coppice. But, though it be of no use to you, who
have the meadoivs without bounds, this coppice must be
removed) if you please, before you plough for wheat !
608. Let us pause here, then ; let us look at the
hatcalion, who are at work ; for, there must be little
short of a Hessian Battalion. Twenty men and twenty
horses may husk the Corn, cut and cart the stalks,
plough and sow and harrow for the wheat ; twenty
two-legged and twenty four-legged animals may do the
work in the proper time ; but, if they do it, they must
work well. Here is a goodly group to look at, for an
English Farmer, without a penny in his pocket ; for
all his money is gone long ago, even according- to your
own estimate ; and, here, besides the expense of cattle
and tackle, are 600 dollars, in bare wages, to be paid
in a month ! You and I both have forgotten the shelling
of the Corn, which, and putting it up, will come to
50 dollars more at the least, leaving the price of the
barrel to be paid for by the purchaser df the Corn.
609. But, what did I say ? Shell the Corn ? It
must go into the Cribs first. It cannot be shelled im
mediately. And it must not be thrown into heaps.
It must be put into Cribs. I have had made out an
estimate of the Expense of the Cribs for ten thousand
Iwshels of Corn Ears : that is the crop ; and the Cribs
will cost 570 dollars ! Though, mind, the farmer's
house, barns., stables, wagon-house, and all, are to cost
but 1500 dollars ! But, the third year, our poor sim
pleton is to have 200 acres of corn ! " Twenty more:
" kill 'em ! " Another 570 dollars for Cribs !
610. However, crops now come tumbling on him
Part III.] MORRIS BIRKBECK, ESQ. 331
so fast, that he must struggle hard not to be stifled
with his own superabundance. He has now got 200
acres of corn and 100 acres of wheat, which latter -he
has, indeed, had one year before ! Oh, madness ! But,
to proceed. To get in these crops and to sow the
wheat, first taking away 200 acres of English coppice
in stalks, will, with the dunging for the wheat, require,
at least, fifty good men, andjorty good horses or oxen,
for thirty days. Faith ! when farmer Simpleton sees all
this (in his dreams I mean), he will think himself a farmer
of the rank of JOB, before Satan beset that example of
patience, so worthy of imitation, and so seldom imitated.
(111. Well, but Simpleton must bustle to get in his
wheat. In, indeed ! \Vhat can cover it, but the canopy
of heaven ? A barn ! It will, at two English wagon
toads of sheaves to an acre, require a barn a hundred
feet long, fifty feet wide, and twenty-three feet high
up to the eaves ; and this barn with two proper floors,
will cost more than seven thousand dollars. He will
put it in slacks ; let him add six men to his battalion
then. He will thrash it in the field; let him add ten
more men ! Let him, at once, send and press the Har-
monites into his service, and make RAPP inarch at
their head, for, never will he by any other means get
in the crop ; and, even then, if he pay fair wages, he
will loose by it.
612. After the crop is in and the seed sown, in the
fall, what is to become of Simpleton's men till Corn
ploughing and planting time in the spring ? And, then,
when the planting is done, what is to become of them
till harvest time ? Is he, like BAYES, in the Rehearsal,
to lay them down when he pleases, and when he
pleases make them rise up again ? To hear you talk
about these crops, and, at other times to hear you ad
vising others to bring labourers from England, one
would think you, for your own part, able, like CAD
MUS, to make men start up out of the earth. How
would one ever have thought it possible for infatuation
like this to seize lupld of a mind like yours ?
613. When I read in your Illinois Letters, that
you had prepared horses, ploughs, and other things,
332 LETTER TO [Part III.
for putting in a hundred acres of Corn in the Spring,
how I pitied you ! I saw all your plagues, if you could
not see them. I saw the grass choking your plants ;
the grubs eating them ; and you fretting and turning
from the sight with all the pangs of sanguine baffled
hope. I expected you to have ten bushels instead of
Jifty, upon an acre. I saw your confusion, and parti
cipated in your mortification. From these feelings I
was happily relieved by the Journal of our friend
HULME, who informs the world, and our countrymen
in particular, that you had not, in July last, any Corn
at ail growing !
614. Thus it is to reckon one's chickens before
they are hatched : and thus the Transalleganian dream
vanishes. You have been deceived. A warm heart,
a lively imagination, and I know not what caprice
about republicanism, have led you into sanguine ex
pectations and wrong conclusions. Come, now ; Con
fess it like yourself ; that is, like a man of sense and
spirit : like an honest and fair-dealing John Bull. To
err belongs to all men, great as well as little ; but to
be ashamed to confess error, belongs only to the latter.
6 1 5. Great as is my confidence in your candour, 1 can
however, hardly hope wholly to escape your anger
for having so decidedly condemned your publications ;
but, I do hope, that you will not be so unjust as to im
pute my conduct to any base self-interested motive. I
have no private interest, I can have no such interest
in endeavouring to check the mad torrent towards the
West. 1 own nothing in these States, and never shall ;
and whether English Farmers push on into misery and
ruin, or stop here in happiness and prosperity, to me,
as far as private interest goes, it must be the same. As
to the difference in our feelings and notions about coun
try, about allegiance, and about forms of government,
this may exist without any, even the smallest degree
of personal dislike. I was no hypocrite in England ;
I had no views farther than those which I professed.
I wanted nothing for myself but the fruit of my own in
dustry and talent, and 1 wished nothing for my country
but its liberties and laws, which say, that the people
Part III.] MORRIS BIRKBECK, ESQ. 333
sliali be fairly represented. England has been very
happy mid free; her greatness and renown have been
surpassed by those of no nation in the world ; her wise,
just, and merciful laws form the basis of that freedom
which we here enjoy, she has been fertile beyond all
rivalship in men of learning and men devoted to the
eause of freedom and humanity ; her people, though
proud and domineering, yield to no people in the world
in frankness, good faith, sincerity, and benevolence :
and I cannot but know, that this state of things has ex
isted, and that this people has been formed, under
a government of king, lords, and commons. Having
this powerful argument of experience before me, and
seeing no reason why the thing should be otherwise, 1
have never wished for republican government in Eng
land ; though, rather than that the present tyrannical
oligarchy should continue to trample on king and people,
I would gladly see the whole fabric torn to atoms, and
trust to chance for something better, being sure that no
thing could be worse. .But, if I am not a republican ;
if [ think my duty towards England indefeasible ; if I
think that it becomes me to abstain from any act which
shall seem to say, I abandon her, and especially in this
her hour of distress and oppression ; and, if, in all these
points, I differ from you, I trust that to this difference
no part of the above strictures will be imputed, but
that the motive will be fairly inferred from the act, and
not the act imputed unfairly to any motive. 1 am, my
dear Sir, with great respect for your talents as well as
character,
Your most obedient
And most humble servant,
WM. COBBETT.
334 LETTER n. TO [Part III.
TO
MORRIS B1RKBECK, ESQ.
OF ENGLISH PRAIRIE, ILLINOIS TERRITORY.
LETTER II.
North Hempstead, Long Isl&nd,
\5thDec. 1818.
MY DEAR SIR,
616. BEING, when I wrote my former Letter to you
in great haste to conclude, in order that my son Wil
liam might take it to England with him, 1 left unno
ticed many things, which I had observed in your
" Letters from the Illinois ;" and which things merited
pointed notice. Some of these I will notice ; for, 1 wish
to discharge all my duties towards my countrymen faith
fully ; and, 1 know of no duty more sacred, than that of
warning them against pecuniary ruin and mental misery.
617. It has always been evident to me, that the Wes
tern Countries were not the countries for English far
mers to settle in : no, nor for American farmers, unless
under peculiar circumstances. The settlers, who have
gone from the New England States, have, in general,
been able men with families of stout sons. The con
tracted farm in New England sells for money enough
to buy the land for five or six farms in the West.
These farms are made by the labour of the owners.
They hire nobody. They live any how for a while. I
will engage that the labour performed by one stout New
England family in one year, would cost an English far
mer a thousand pounds in wages. You will say, why
cannot the English labour as hard as the Yankees ?
But, mind, 1 talk of a family of Yankee sons; and, be
sides, 1 have no scruple to say, that one of these will do
Part III.] MORRIS BIRKBECK, ESQ. 33.5
as much work in the clearing and fencing of a farm, and
in the erection of buildings, as four or Jive English of
the same age and size. Yet, have many of the New
England farmers returned. EvenfAea have had cause
to repent of their folly. What hope is there, then, that
English farmers will succeed ?
6 18. It so happens, that I have seen new settlements
formed. 1 have seen lands cleared. 1 have seen crowds
of people coming and squatting down in woods or little
islands, and by the sides of rivers. I have seen the log-
hut raised ; the bark covering put on; I have heard the
bold language of the adventurers ; and I have witnessed
their subsequent miseries. They were just as free as
you are ; for, they like you, saw no signs of the exist
ence of any government, good or bad.
619. New settlements, particularly at so great a
distance from all the conveniences and sweeteners of
life, must be begun by people wlio labour for them
selves. Money is, in such a case, almost useless. It
is impossible to believe, that, after your statement
about your intended hundred acres of Indian corn, you
would not have had it, or, at least a part of it, if you
could ; that is to say, if money would have got it. Yet
you had not a single square rod. Mr. HULME, (See
Journal, 28th July) says, in the way of reason for
your having no crops this year, that you could pur
chase with more economy than you could grow ! In
deed ! what ; would the Indian Corn have cost, then,
more than the price of the Corn ? Untoward observa
tion ; but perfectly true, I am convinced. There is,
it is my opinion, nobody that can raise Indian Corn
or Grain at so great a distance from a market to any
profit at all with hired labour. Nay, this is too plain
a case to be matter of opinion. I may safely assume
it as an indisputable fact. For, it being notorious, that
labour is as high priced with you as with us, and your
statement shewing that Corn is not much more than
one-third of our price, how monstrous, if you gain at
all, must be the Consumers' gains here ! The rent of
the land here is a mere trifle more than it must be
there, for the cultivated part must pay rent for the
336 LETTER IT. TO [Part III.
uncultivated part. The labour, indeed, as all the world
knows, is every thing. All the other expenses are not
worth speaking of. What, then, must be the gains
oT the Long island farmer, who sells his corn at a dol
lar a bushel, if you with labour, at the Long Island price,
can gain by selling Corn at the rate of Jive bushels for
two dollars ! If yours be a jine country for English
farmers to migrate to, what must this be ? You wrant
no manure. This cannot last long ; and. accordingly vl
see thatyoumean^o dung for wheat after the second crop
of Corn. This is another of the romantic stories exposed.
i n Letter J V. you relate the romance of manure being use
less; but, inLetter X. you tell us, that you propose to use
it. Land bearing crops without a manure, or, with new-
culture and constant ploughing, is a romance, This I
told you in London ; and this you have found to be true.
620. It is of little consequence what wild schemes
are formed and executed by men who have property
enough to carry them bach ; but, to invite men to go to
the Illinois with a few score of pounds in their pockets,
and to tell them that they can become farmers with
those pounds, appears to me to admit of no other
,apology than an unequivocal acknowledgment that
the inviter is mad. Yet jo\a fifteenth Letter from the
Illinois really contains such an invitation. This letter
is manifestly addressed to an imaginary person. It
is clear that the correspondent is a feigned, or sup
posed, being. The letter is, I am sorry to say I
think, a mere trap to catch poor creatures with a few
pounds in their pockets. I will here take the liberty to
insert the whole of this letter ; and will then endeavour
to show the misery which it is calculated to produce,
not only amongst English people, but amongst Ame
ricans who may chance to read it, and who are now
living happily in the Atlantic States. The letter is
dated, 24th of Febuary, 1818, and the following are its
words :
621. (i Dear Sir, — When a man gives advice to his
" friends, on affairs of great importance to their in-
" terest, he takes on himself a load of responsibility,
" fiom which 1 have always shrunk, and generally
Part III.] MORRIS BIRKBECK, ESQ. 337
" withdrawn. My example is very much at their ser-
" vice, either for imitation or warning, as the case may
" be. 1 must, however, in writing to you, step a little
" over this line of caution, having more than once been
" instrumental in helping you, not out of your difficul-
" ties, but from one scene of perplexity to another ; I
" cannot help advising you to make an effort more, and
" extricate yourself and family completely, by removing
" into this country. — When I last saw you, twelve
" months ago, L did not think favourably of your pros-
" pects : if things have turned out better, I shall be
" rejoiced to hear it, and you will not need the advice
" I am preparing for you. But, if vexation and dis-
" appointments have assailed you, as I feared, and you
11 can honourably make your escape, with the means of
" transmitting yourself hither, and one hundred pounds
" sterling to spare — don't hesitate. In six months after
" I shall have welcomed you, barring accidents, you
" shall discover that you are become rich, for you shall
"feel that you are independent: and 1 think that
" will be the most delightful sensation you ever ex-
" perienced ; for, you will receive it multiplied, as it
" were, by the number of your family as your troubles
" now are. It is not, however, a sort of independence
" that will excuse you from labour, or afford you many
" luxuries, that is, costly luxuries. I will state to you
" what I have learned, from a good deal of observation
" and inquiry, and a little experience ; then you will
" form your own judgment. In the first place, the
" voyage. That will cost you, to Baltimore or Phila-
" delphia, provided you take it, as no doubt you would,
" in the cheapest way, twelve guineas each, for a birth,
" fire, and water, for yourself and wife, and half price,
" or less, for your children, besides provisions, which you
" will furnish. Then the journey. Over the mountains
" to Pittsburgh, down the Ohio to Shawnee Town, and
** from thence to our settlement, fifty miles north, will
" amount to five pounds sterling per head. — If you
" arrive here as early as May, or even June, another
" five pounds per head will carry you on to that point,
" where you may take your leave of dependence on any
p
338 LETTER n. TO [Part III.
" thing earthly but your own exertions. At this time I
" suppose you to have remaining one hundred pounds
" (borrowed probably from English friends, who rely on
" your integrity, and who may have directed the interest
" to be paid to me on their behalf, and the principle in
" due season.) — We will now if you please, turn it into
" dollars, and consider how it may be disposed of. A
" hundred pounds sterling will go a great way in dollars.
" With eighty dollars you will enter a quarter section
" of land ; that is, you will purchase at the land-office
" one hundred and sixty acres, and pay one-fourth of
" the purchase money, and looking to the land to re-
" ward your pains with the means of discharging the
" other three-fourths as they become due, in two, three,
" and four years. — You will build a house with fifty
" dollars ; and you will find it extremely comfortable and
" convenient, as it will be really and truly yours. Two
" horses will cost, with harness and plough, one bun-
" dred. — Cows, and hogs, and seed corn, and fencing,
" with other expenses, will require the remaining two
" hundred and ten dollars. — This beginning, humble
" as it appears, is affluence and splendour, compared
" with the original outfit of settlers in general. Yet no
" man remains in poverty, who possesses even moderate
" industry and economy, and especially of time. — You
" would of course bring with you your sea-bedding and
" store of blankets, for you will need them on the Ohio; and
" you should leave England with a good stock of wearing
" apparel. Your luggage must be composed of light
" articles, on account of the costly land-carriage from the
" Eastern port to Pittsburgh which will be from seven
" to ten dollars per 100 Ib. nearly sixpence sterling
" per pound. A few simple medicines of good quality
" are indispensable, such as calomel, bark in powder,
" caster oil, calcined magnesia, laudanum ; they may
"be of the greatest importance on the voyage and
"journey, as well as after your arrival. — Change of
" climate and situation will produce temporary indis-
" position, but with prompt and judicious treatment,
" which is happily of the most simple kind, complaints
" to which new comers are liable are seldom dangerous
Part I1I.J MORRIS BIRKBECK, ESQ. 339
" or difficult to overcome, provided due regard has been
" had to salubrity in the choice of their settlement,
" and to diet and accommodation after their arrival.
" With best regards, I remain, &,c."
(322. Now, my dear Sir, your mode of address, in
this letter, clearly shews that you have in your eye a
person above the level of common labourers. The words
" Dear Sir " indicate that you are speaking to a
J'riend, or, at least, to an intimate acquaintance; of
course to a person, who has not been brought up in the
habits of hard labour. And such a person it is, whom
you advise and press to come to the Illinois with a
hundred pounds in his pocket to become a farmer !
6*23. I will pass over the expenses previous to this
unfortunate man and his family's arriving at the Prairies,
though those expenses will be double the amount that you
state them at. But he arrives with 450 dollars in his
pocket. Of these he is to pay down 80 for his land,
leaving three times that sum to be paid afterwards. He
has ,370 left. And now what is he to do ? He arrives
in May. So that this family has to cross the sea in
winter , and the land in spring. There they are, how
ever, and now what are they to do ? They are to have
built for 50 dollars a house " EXTREMELY COM-
" FORTABLEAND CONVENIENT:"— the very
words that you use in describing the farmer's house, that
was to cost, with out-buildings, 1500 dollars ! How
ever, you have described your own cabin, whence we
may gather the meaning which you attach to the word
comfortable. " This cabin is built of round straight
" logs, about a foot in diameter, laying upon each other,
" and notched in at the corners, forming a room eighteen
" feet long by sixteen ; the intervals between the logs
" ' chunked/ that is, filled in with slips of wood ; and
" ' mudded,' that is, daubed with a plaister of mud ; a
" spacious chimney built also of logs, stands like a
" bastion at one end; the roof is well covered with four
" hundred ' clap boards ' of cleft oak, very much like
" the pales used in England for fencing parks. A hole
" is cut through the side, called, very properly, the
p 2
340 LETTER n. TO [Part III.
" ' through,' for which there is a l shutter/ made also of
" cleft oak, and hung on wooden hinges. All this has
" been executed by contract, and well executed, for
" twenty dollars. I have since added ten dollars to the
" cost, for the luxury of ajioor and ceiling of sawn
" boards, and it is now a comfortable habitation."
624. In plain words, this is a log-hut, such as the
free negroes live in about here, and a hole it is, tit only
for dogs, or hogs, or cattle. Worse it is than the negro
huts ; for they have a bit of glass ; but here is none.
This miserable hole, black with smoke as it always must
be, and without any window, costs, however, 30 dollars.
And yet this English acquaintance of yours is to have
" a house extremely comfortable and convenient for Jifty
" dollars." Perhaps his 50 dollars might get him a
hut, or hole, a few feet longer and divided into two dens.
So that here is to be cooking, washing, eating, and
sleeping all in the same " extremely convenient and
" comfortable " hole ! And yet, my dear Sir, you find
fault of the want of cleanliness in the Americans ! You
have not seen " the Americans." You have not seen
the nice, clean, neat houses of the farmers in this Island,
in New England, in the Quaker counties of Pennsyl
vania. You have seen nothing but the smoke-dried
Ultra-montainians ; and your project seems to be to
make the deluded English who may follow you rivals in
the attainment of the tawny colour. What is this family to
do in their 50 dollar den ? Suppose one or more of them
sick ! How are the rest to sleep by night or to eat by day ?
625. However, here they are, in this miserable
place, with the ship-bedding, and without even a bed
stead, and with 130 dollars gone in land and house.
Two horses and harness and plough are to cost 100
dollars ! These, like the hinges of the door, are all to
be of wood I suppose ; for as to flesh and blood and
bones in the form of two horses for 100 dollars, is
impossible, to say nothing about the plough and
harness, which would cost 20 dollars of the money.
Perhaps, however, you may mean some of those horses,
ploughs and sets of harness, which, at the time when you
w rote this letter, you had all ready waiting for the
Part III.] MORRIS BIRKBECK, ESQ. 341
spring to put in your hundred acres of corn that was
never put in at all! However, let this pass too. Then
there are 220 dollars left, and these are to provide cows,
hogs, seed, corn, fencing, and other expenses. Next
come two cows (poor ones) 24 dollars ; hogs, 15 dol
lars ; seed corn, 5 dollars ; fencing, suppose £0 acres
only, in four plots, the stuff brought from the woods
nearest adjoining. Here are 360 rods of fencing, and if
it be done so as to keep out a pig, and to keep in a pig,
or a horse or cow, for less than half a dollar a rod, I
will suffer myself to be made into smoked meat in the
extremely comfortable house. Thus, then, here are €13
out of the 220 dollars, and this happy settler has seven
whole dollars left for all "other expenses;" amongst
which are the cost of cooking utensils, plates, knives
and forks, tables, and stools ; for, as to table-cloths and
chairs, those are luxuries unbecoming " simple republi
cans." But, there must be a pot to boil in ; or, is that
too much ? May these republicans have a washing tub ?
Perhaps, indeed, it will become unnecessary in a short
time ; for, the lice will have eaten up the linen ; and,
besides, perhaps, real independence means stark-naked
ness. But, at any rate, the hogs must have a trough ?
or, are they to eat at the same board with the family ?
Talking of eating puts roe in mind of a great article ;
for what are the family to eat during the year and more
before their land can produce ? For even if they arrive in
May, they can have no crop that year. Why they must
graze with the cows in the Prairies, or snuggle with the
hogs in the woods. An oven! Childish effeminacy!
Oh ! unleavened bread for your life. Bre&d, did I say ?
Where is the " independent" family to get bread ? Oh !
no ! Grass and Acorns and Roots ! and, God be praised,
you have plenty of water in your wells, though perhaps,
the family, with all their " independence," must be com
pelled to depend on your leave to get it, and fetch it half
a mile into the bargain.
626. To talk seriously upon such a subject is impos
sible, without dealing in terms of reprobation, which it
would give me great pain to employ when speaking of
any act of yowrs. Indeed such a family will be free ; but,
342 LETTER n. TO [Part ILL
the Indians are free, and so are the gypsies in England,
And I most solemnly declare, that I would sooner live
the life of a gypsy in England, than be a settler, with
less than five thousand pounds, in the Illinois ; and, if
I had the five thousand pounds, and was resolved to ex
change England for America, what in the name of com
mon sense, should induce me to go into a wild coun
try, when I could buy a good farm, of 200 acres, with
fine orchard and good house and out-buildings, and stock
it completely, and make it rich as a garden, within twenty
miles of a great sea-port, affording me a ready market
and a high price for every article of my produce ?
(>27. You have, by this time^ seen more than you
had seen when you wrote your " Letters from the
" Illinois." You would not, I am convinced, write such
letters now. But, lest you should not do it, it is right
that somebody should counteract their delusive effects ;
and this I endeavour to do as much for the sake of this
country as for that of my own countrymen. For a good
while I remained silent, hoping that few people would
be deluded ; but when I heard, that an old friend, and
brother sportsman ; a sensible, honest, frank, and
friendly man, in Oxfordshire, whom I will not name,
had been seized with the Illinois madness, and when I
recollected, that he was one of those, who came to visit
me in prison, I could no longer hold my tongue : for, if
a man like him ; a man of his sound understanding,
could be carried away by your representations, to what
an extent must the rage have gone !
628. Mr. HULME visited you with the most friendly
feelings. He agrees with you perfectly as to notions
about forms of government. He ivished to give a good
account of your proceedings. His account is favour
•able ; but his facts, which I am sure are true, let out
what I could not have known for certainty from any
other quarter. However, 1 do not care a farthing for
the decrees of goodness or of badness ; 1 say, all new
countries are all badness for English farmers. I say
that their place is near the great cities on the coast ;
and that every step they go beyond forty miles from those
cities is a step too far. They want freedom: they
i*art IIJ.] MORRIS BIRKBECK, ESQ. 343
have it here. They want good land, good roads, good
markets : they have them all here. What should they
run rambling about a nation-making for ? What have
they to do about extending dominion and " taming the
"wilderness?" If they speculate upon becoming
founders of republics, they will, indeed do well to get
out of the reach of rivals. If they have a thirst for
power, they will naturally seek to be amongst the least
informed part of mankind. But, if they only want to
keep their property and live well, they will take up their
abode on this side of the mountains at least.
6C29. The grand ideas about the extension of the em
pire of the United States are of very questionable sound
ness ; and they become more questionable from being
echoed by the Edinburgh Rev iewers, a set of the mean
est politicians that ever touched pen and paper. Upon
any great question, they never have beenright,even by ac
cident, which is very hard ! The rapid extension of set
tlements to the West of the mountains, is, in- my opinion,
by no means favourable to the duration of the present
happy Union. The conquest of Canada would have been
as dangerous ; but not more dangerous. A nation is never
so strong and so safe as when its extreme points feel
for each other as acutely as each feels for itself; and this
never can be when all are not equally exposed to every
danger ; and especially when all the parts have not the
same interests. In case of a war with England, what
would become of your market down the Mississippi ?
That is your sole market. That way your produce must
go ; or you must dress yourself in skins and tear your food
to bits with your hands. Yet that way your produce could
not go, unless this nation were to keep up a Navy equal
to that of England. Defend the country against invaders
1 know the people always will ; but, I am not sure, that
they will like internal taxes sufficient to rear and -sup
port a Navy sufficient to clear the gulf of Mexico, of En
glish squadrons. In short, it is my decided opinion, that
the sooner the banks of the Ohio, the Wabash, and the
Mississippi, are pretty thickly settled, the sooner the
Union will be placed in jeopardy. If a war were to break
out with England, even in a few years, the lands of which
the Mississippi is the outlet would lose a great part of
344 LETRER n. TO [Purl HJ«
their value. Who does not see in this fact a great
cause of disunion ? On this side the mountains, there
are twelve hundred miles of co-ast to blockade ; but
you, gentlemen Prairie owners, are like a rat that has but
one hole to go out and to come in at. You express your
deep-rooted attatchment to your adopted country, and I
am sure you are sincere ; but, still I may be allowed to
doubt, whether you would cheerfully wear bear-skins,
and gnaw your meat off the bones for the sake of any
commercial right that the nation might go to war about.
I know that you would not starve ; for coffee and tea
are not necessary to man's existence ; but, you would
like to sell your flour and pork, and would be very apt to
discover reasons against a war that would prevent you
from selling them. You appear to think it very wicked
in the Alantic People to feel little eagerness in promot
ing the increase of population to the Westward ; but you
see, that in this want of such eagerness, they may be
actuated by a real love for their country. For my part,
1 think it would have been good policy in the Congress
not to dispose of the Western Lands at all ; and i am
sure it \vould have been an act of real charity.
630. Having now performed what I deemed my du*v
towards my countrymen, and towards this country too,
I will conclude my letter with a few observations, re
lative to mills, which may be of use to you; for, ]
know, that you w ill go on ; and, indeed, I most sincerely
wish you all the success that you. can wish yourself,
without doing harm to others.
631. You have no mill streams near you ; and yon
are -about to erect a wind-mill. Man is naturally prone
to call to his aid whatever will save his bones labour.
The water, the wind, the fire : any thing that will help
him. Cattle of some sort or other were, for a long
while, his great resource. But, of late, water-powers,
wind-powers, fire-powers. And, indeed, wonderous
things have been performed by machines of this kind.
The water and the wind do not eat, and require no
grooming. But, it sometimes happens that, when all
things are considered, we resort to these grand powers
without any necessity for it ; and that we forget how
easily \ve could do the thing we want done, with our own
Part III."] MORRIS BIRKBECK, ESQ. 345
hands. The story, in Peregrine Pickle, about the
Mechanic, who had invented a water machine to cat off
the head of a cabbage, hardly surpassed the reality in
the case of the machine, brought out in England, some
years ago, for reaping wheat ; nor is it much less ridi
culous to see people going many miles with grist to a
mill, which grist they might so easily grind at home.
The hand-mills, used in England, would be invaluable
with you, for awhile, at least.
G3C2. But, it is of a mill of more general utility, that I
arn now about to speak to you ; and I seriously recom
mend it to your consideration, as well as toother persons
similarly situated.
6S3. At Botley I lived surrounded by water-mills
and wind-mills. There were eight or ten within live
miles of me, and one at two hundred yards from- my
house. Still J thought, that it was a brutal sort of thing
to be obliged to send twice to a mill, with all the uncer
tainties of the business, in order to have a sack of wheat
or Oi bailey ground. I sent for a millwright, and, after
making all the calculations, I resolved to have a mill in
my farm yard, to grind for myseif, and to sell my wheat
in the shape of no ur. I had the mill erected in a pretty
little barn, well floored with oak, and standing upon
stones \uth caps : so that no rats or mice could annoy
me. The mill was to be moved by horses, for which, to-
shelter them from the wet, I had ashed with a circu
lar roof erected on the outside of the barn. Under this
roof, as well as 1 recollect, there was a large wheel,
which the horses turned, and a bar, going from that
wheel passed through into the barn, and there it put
the whole machinery in motion.
634. I have no skill in mechanics. I do not, and
did not, know one thing from another by its name. All
1 looked to was the effect ; and this was complete. I
had excellent flour. All my meal was ground at home.
I was never bothered with sending to the mill. My ears
were never after dinned with complaints about bad Jiour
and heavy bread. It was the prettiest, most convenient,
and most valuable thing I had upon my farm. It was,
1 think, put up in ISlG, and this was one of the piea-
p 5
£46 LETTER n. TO [Part 111
sures, from which the Borough-villains (God confound
them !) drove me in 1817. L think it cost me about a
hundred ponnds. 1 forget, whether I had sold any flour
from it to the Bakers. But, independent of that it was
very valuable. 1 think we ground and dressed about
forty bushels of wheat in a day ; and, we used to work
at it on. wet days, and when we could not work in the
fields. We never were stopped by want of wind or water.
The horses were always ready ; and 1 knoiv, that our
grinding was done at one half the expense at which it
was done by the millers.
635. The farmers and millers used to say, that I
saved nothing by my mill. Indeed, gain was not my
object, except in convenience. 1 hated the sudden calls
for going to the mill. They produce irregularity] and,
besides the millers were not more honest than other
people. Their mills contained ail sorts of grain; and,
in their confusion, we sometimes got badjiour from good
wheat ; an accident that never happened to us after we
got our own mill. But, as to the gain, I have just re
ceived a letter from my sou, informing me, that the gen
tleman, a farmer born and bred, who rents my farm in
my absence, sells no iclieat : that he grinds all; that he
sells flour all round the country ; and that th-s flour is
preferred before that of the millers. I was quite de
lighted to hear this news of my little mill. It awakened
many recollections ; and 1 immediately thought of commu
nicating the facts to the public, and particularly to you.
636. You will observe, that my iarm is situated in
the midst of mills. So that you may be sure, that the
thing answers, or it would not be carried on. If it were
not attended with gain, it would not be put in motion,
I was convinced, that any man might grind cheaper with
a horse-mill than with a water or windmill, and now the
fact is proved. For, observe, the mill costs nothing for
scite ; it occupies a very small space ; it is independent
of wind and water ; no floods nor gales can affect it.
637. Now, then, if such a mill be preferable to wind
or Water-mills in a place where both abound, how useful
must it be in a situation like yours ? Such a mill would
amply supply about three hundred families, if kept con-
Part III.] MORRIS BIRKBECK, ESQ. 347
stantly at work. And then, it is so much more con-
veniefct that a windmill. A windmill is necessarily a
most unhandy thing. The grain has to be hauled up
and the flour let down. The building is a place of no
capacity; and, theve is great danger attending the ma
nagement of it. My project is merely a neat, close
barn, standing upon stones that rats and mice cannot
creep up. The wagon comes to the door, the sacks
are handed in and out ; and every thing is HO conve
nient and easily performed, that it is a pleasure to
behold it.
()38. About the construction of the mill I know
nothing. I know only the effect, and that it is worked
by horses, in the manner that 1 have described. I had
no Miller. My Bailiff, whom I had made aBailiff out
of a Carpenter, i turned into a Miller; or, rather, I
made him look after the thing. Any of the men how
ever, could do the millering very well. Any of them
could make better flour than the water and wind-millers
used to make for us. bo that there is no mystery in the
matter.
639. This country abounds in excellent millwrights.
The best, I dare say, in the world ; and, if I were settled
here as a farmer in a large way, I would soon have a
little mill and send away my produce in flour instead
of wheat. If a farmer has to send frequently to the
mill, (and that he must do, if he have a great quantity
oi'stock i-nd a large family,) the very expense of send
ing ivill pay for a mill in two or three years.
6*40. I shall be glad if this piece of information
should be of use to any body, and particulaly if it
should be of any use in the Prairies ; for, God knows,
you will have plague enough without sending to mill,
which is, of itself, no small plague even in a Christian
country. About the same strength that turns a threshing
machine, turned my mill. I can give no information
about the construction. I know there was a hopper and
stones, and that the thing made a clinging noise like the
water-mills. I know that the whole affair occupied but
a small space. My barn was about forty feet long and
eighteen feet wide, and the mill stood at one end of it.
348 LETTER n. TO [Part III.
The man who made it for me, and with whom I made
a bargain in writing, wanted me to agree to a specifica
tion of the thing ; but I declined having any thing to
do with cogs and wheels, and persisted in stipulating for
effects. And these were, that with a certain force of
horses, it was to make so much fine flour in so long a
time ; and this bargain he very faithfully fulfilled. The
price was, I think, seventy pounds, and the putting up
and altogether made the amount about a hundred
pounds. There were no heavy timbers in any part of
the thing. There was not a bit of wood, in any part
of the construction, so big as my thigh. The whole
thing might have been carried away, all at once, very
conveniently, in one of my wagons.
641. There is another thing, which I beg leave to
recommend to your attention ; and fhat is, the use of
the Broom-Corn Stalks as thatch. The coverings of
barns and other out-houses with shingles makes them
fiery hot in summer, so that it is dangerous to be at
work in making mows near them in very hot weather.
The heat they cause in the upper parts of houses,
though there be a ceiling under them, is intolerable. In
the very hot weather L always bring my bed down to
the ground-floor. Thatch is cool. Cool in summer
and warm in winter. Its inconveniences are danger
fromjire and want of durability/. The former is no
great deal greater than thaft of shingles. The latter
may be wholly removed by the use of the Broom-Corn
Stalks. In England a good thatch of wheat-straw will last
twelve or fifteen years. If this straw be reeded, as they
do it IB the counties of Dorset and Devon, it will last
thirty years ; and it is very beautiful. The little town
of CHARMOUTH, which is al! thatched, is one of the
prettiest places I ever s&w. What beautiful thatching
might be made in this country, where the straw is so
sound and so clean! A Dorsetshire thatcher might, upon
this very island, make himself a decent fortune in a few-
years. They do Cover barns with straw here sometimes ;
but how one of our thatchers would laught at the work !
Let me digress here, for a moment, to ask you if you
have got la sow-spayer ? We have no such man he*e.
Part III.] MORRIS BIHKBECK, ESQ. 349
What a loss arises from this ! What a plague it is. We
caamotkeep a whole farrow of pigs, unless \ve breed from
all the sows ! They go away : they plague us to death.
Many a man in England, now as poor as an owlet, would
(if he kept from the infernal drink) become rich here in a
short time. These sow-gelders, as they call them, swarm
in England. Any clown of a fellow follows this calling,
which ishardrytwo degrees above rat-catching an/1 nioie
catching : and yet there is no such person here, where
swine are so numerous, and where so many millions are
tatted for exportation. It is very strange !
642. To return to the thatching : Straw is not so
durable as one could wish : besides, in very high winds,
it is liable, if not reeded, to l>e ruffed a good deal ; and
the reeding, which is almost like counting the straws
one by one is expensive. In England we sometimes
thatch with reeds, which in Hampshire, are called spear.
This is an aquatic plant, it grows in the water, and
will grow no where else. When stout it is of the
thickness of a small cane at the bottom, and is about
four or five feet long. I have seen a thatch of it, which,
with a little patching, had lasted upwards of jijty years.
In gentlemen's gardens, there are sometimes hedges
or screens made of these reeds. They last, if well put
up, half a century, and are singularly neat, while they
parry the wind much better than paling or walls* be
cause there is no eddy proceeding from their repulsion.
They arc generally put round those parts of the garden
where the hot-beds are.
643. Now, the Broom-Corn far surpasses the reeds
in all respects. 1 intend, in my Book on Gardening, to
give a full account of the applicability of this plant to
garden-uses both here and in England ; for, as to the
reeds, they can seldom be had, and a screen of them
comes in most parts of England, to more money than a
paling of oak. But, the Broom-Corn ! What an
useful thing ! What quantities upon an acre of land.
Ten feet high and more durable than reeds! The
seed-stems, with a bit of the stem of the plant, make
the brooms. These, I hear, are now sent to England.
350
LETTER n. TO [Part III.
I have often talked of it in England as a good traffic.
We here sweep stables and streets with what the Eng
lish sweep their carpets with ! You can buy as good
a broom at New York for eight pence sterling as you
can buy in London for Jive shillings sterling, and the
freight cannot exceed twopence or threepence, if sent
without handles. I bought a clothes-brush, an Eng
lish ; clothes-brush, the other xhiy for three shillings
sterling. It was made otajurthing's worth of alder
wood and of half a farthings worth oj~ Broom-Corn.
An excellent brush. Better than bristles. I have
broom-Corn and Seed-Stems enough to make fifty
thousand such brushes. I really think I shall seed it
to England. It is now lying about my barn, and the
chickens are living upon the seeds. This plant demands
greater heat even than the Indian Corn. It would
hardly ripen its seed in England. Indeed it would not.
But, if well managed, it would produce a prodigious
crop of materials for reed-hedges and thatch. It is of
a substance (1 mean the main stalk) between that of a
cant and that of a reed. It has joints precisely like
those of the canes, which you may have seen the Bo-
roughmonger's sons and footmen strut about with, called
bamboos. The seed-stalks, which make the brooms and
brushes, might not get so mature in England as to be so
good as they are here for those uses ; but, I have no
doubt, that, in any of the warm lands in Surrey, or
Kent, or Hampshire, a man might raise upon an acre
a crop worth several hundred pounds. The very stout
stalks, if properly harvested and applied, would last
nearly as long as the best hurdle rods. What beautiful
screens they would make in gardens and pleasure
grounds ! Ten feet long, and straight as a gun stick !
1 shall send some of the seed to England this year, and
cause a trial to be made ; and [ will, in my Gardening
Book, give full instructions for the cultivation. Of this
book, which will be published soon, I would, if you
lived in this world, send you a copy. These are the
best Uses of maritime intercourse : the interchange of
plants, animals, and improvements of all sorts. 1 am
doing my best to repay this country for the protection
Part 111.] MORRIS BIRKBECK, ESQ. 361
which it has given me against our indemnified tyrants.
" Cobbett's pigs and Swedish turnips" will be talked of
long after the bones of Ellenborough, Gibbs, Sidmouth,
Castlereagh and Jenkinson will be rotten, and their names
forgotten, or only remembered when my " trash" shall.
6'44. This is a rambling sort of Letter. I now come
back to the Broom-Corn for thatch. Sow it in rows
about five feet asunder ; or, rather, on ridges, a foot
wide at the top, with an interval of Jive feet ; let the
plants stand all over this foot wide, at about three inches
apart, or V^ss. Keep the plants clear of weeds by a
couple of weedings, and plough well between the ridges
three or four times duringthe summer. This will make
the plants grow tall, while their closeness to each other
will make them small in thickness of stem or stalk. It
will bring them to about tliethicktiessof fine large reeds
in England, and to about twice the length ; and, 1 will
engage, that a large barn may be covered, by a good
thatcher, with the stalks, in two days and that the
covering shall last for fifty years. Only think of the
price of shingles and nails ! Only think of the cost of
tiles in England ! Only think of the expense of draw
ing or of reeding straw in England ! Only think of
going into the water to collect reeds in England, even
where they are to be had at all, which is in a very few
places ! The very first thing that I would do, if I were
to settle in a place where I had buildings to erect, would
be to Sow some Broom-Corn ; that is to say, sow some
roofs. What a fine tiling this would be upon the farms
in England ! What a convenient thing for the cottagers !
Thatch for their pretty little houses, for their styes, for
their fuel-house, their cow-shed ; and brooms into the
bargain ; for, though the seed would not ripen, and
though the broom-part would not be of the fast quality,
it would be a thousand times better than heath. The
seed might be sent from this country, and, though the
Borough-villians would tax it, as their rapacious system
does EVEN THE SEEDS OF TREES; yet, a small
quantity of seed would suffice.
645. As an ornamental plant nothing equals this.
253 LETTER n. TO [Part III.
The tndian Corn is far inferior to it in this respect.
Planted by the side of walks in gardens, what beautiful
avenues it would make for the summer ! I have seen
the plants eighteen feet and a half high. I always
wanted to get some seed in England ; but, 1 never could.
My friends thought it too childish and whimsical a thing
to attend to. [f the plant should so far come to perfec
tion in England as to yield the broom-materials, it will
be a great thing ; and, if it fall short of that, it will cer
tainly surpass reeds for thatching and screening pur
poses, for sheep-yards, and for various other uses.
However, I have no doubt of its producing brooms; for
the Indian Corn, though only certain sorts of it will
ripen its seed even in Hampshire, will always come
into bloom, and, in the Broom-Corn, it is the little
stalks, or branches, out of which the flower comes, that
makes the broom. If the plant succeed thus far in
England, you may be sure that the Borough-villains
will tax the brooms, until their system be blown to
atoms • and, 1 should not wonder if they were to make
the broom, like hops, an article of excise, and send
l heir spies into people's fields and gardens to .see that
the revenue was not " defrauded." Precious villians !
They stand between the people and all the gifts of na
ture ! But this cannot last.
646. I am happy to tell you, that E/lenborough and
Gibbs have retired ! Ill health is the pretence. I
never yet knew ill health induce such fellows to loosen
their grasp of the public purse. But, be it so ; then I
feel pleasure on that account. To all the other pangs
of body and mind let them add that of knowing, that
William Cobbett, whom they thought they had put down
for ever, if not killed, lives to rejoice at their pains and
their death, to trample on their graves, and to hand
down their names for the just judgment of posterity.
What! are these feelings wrong? Are they s infu/?
What defence have we, then, against tyranny ? If the
oppressor be riot to experience the resentment of the
oppressed, let us at once acknowledge the divine right
of tyranny ; for, what has tyranny else to fear? \\lio
lias it to fear, but those whom it has injured ? It is the
Part III.] MORRIS BIRKBECK, ESQ. 353
aggregate of individual injury that makes up national
injury: it is the aggregate of individual resentment that
makes up national resentment. National resentment is
absolutely necessary to the producing of redress for op
pression; and, therefore, to say that individual resent
ment is wrong, is to say, that there ought to be no
redress for oppression : it is, in short, to pass a sentence
of never-ending slavery on all mankind. Some Local
Militiamen ; young fellows who had been compelled to
become soldiers, and who had no knowledge of mi
litary discipline ; who had, by the Act of Parliament,
been promised a guinea each before they marched ;
who had refused to inarch because the guinea had not
been wholly paid them; some of these youngmen, these
mere boys, had, for this mutiny, as it was called, been
flogged at Ely in Cambridgeshire, under a guard of
German bayonets and sabres. At this I expressed my
indignation in the strongest terms ; and, for doing this,
I was put for tico years into a gaol along with men con
victed of unnatural crimes, robbery, and under charge
of murder, and where ASTLET was, who was under sen
tence of death. To this was added a fine of a thousand
pounds sterling ; and, when the two years should expire,
bonds for i, he peace and good behaviour for seven years!
The seven years are not yet expired. 1 will endeavour to
be of " good behaviour " for the short space that is to
conic ; and, I am sure, I have behaved well for the
past ; for never were seven years of such efficient
exertion seen in the life of any individual.
G47. The tyrants are hard pushed now. The Bank
Notes are their only ground to stand on ; and that ground
will be moved from under them in a little time. Strange
changes since you left England, short as the time has
been ! I am fully of opinion, that my four years which
I gave the system at my coming away, will see the end
of it. There can be no more war carried on by them. I
see they have had Baring, of Loan-notoriety at the Holy
Alliance-Congress. He has been stipulating for a sup
ply of paper-money. They should have got my con
sent to let the paper money remain ; for, / can destroy
it whenever I please. All sorts of projects are on foot.
354 LETTER n. [Part ill.
" liiitnitableXotes;" paying in specie by weight of me
tal. Oh ! the wondrous fools ! A sudden blow-up ; or, a
blow-up somewhat slow, by ruin and starvation ; one of
these must come ; unless they speedily reduce the inte
rest of the Debt ; and even that will not save the seat-
dealers.
C)4S. In the meanwhile let us enjoy ourselves here
amongst this kind and hospitable people; but, let u*
never forget, that England is our country, and that her
freedom and renown ought to be as dear to us as the
blood in our veins. God bless you, and give you health
and happiness.
WM. COBBETT.
[ 355]
POSTS CRIPT.
RUTA BAGA ; on, SWEDISH TURNIP.
To THE EDITOR OF THE NEW YORK EVENING POST.
Hyde Park, Long- Island,
SIR, 3d Jan. 1819.
64Q. MY publications of last year, on ihe amount of
the crops of Ruta -Baga, were, by many persons, con
sidered romantic ; or, at best, a good deal strained. 1
am happy therefore, to be able to communicate to the
public, through your obliging columns, a letter from an
American farmer on the subject. You may remember,
if you did me the honour to read my Treatise on the
cultivation of this root (in Part 1. of the Year's Resi-
dencfc,) that 1 carried the amount of my best Botley-
crops no higher than one thousand three hundred
bushels to the acre. The following interesting letter will,
1 think, convince every one, that I kept, in all my state
ments, below the mark. Here we have an average
weight of roots of six pounds and a half.
650. I beg Mr. TOWN SEND to accept of my best
thanks for his letter, which has given me very great sa
tisfaction, and which will, I am sure, be of great use in
promoting the cultivation of this valuable root.
65 1 . Many gentlemen have written to me with re
gard to the mode of preserving the Ruta Baga. I have,
in the SECOND PART of my Year's Residence,
which will be published at New York, in a few days
given a very full account of this matter.
1 am, Sir, your most humble
And most obedient Servant,
WM. COBBETT.
POSTCRIPT. [Part III.
DEAR SIR, jv*«; York, Dec. 30 , 1 81 8.
6.52. 1 TAKE the liberty of sending to you the follow
ing experiments upon the culture of your Ruta Baga,
made by my uncle, Isaac Townsend, Esq. of Orange
County, in this State. The seeds were procured from
your stock, and the experiments, 1 think, will tend to
corroborate the sentiments which you have so laudably
and so successfully inculcated on the subject of this
interesting article of agriculture.
653. A piece of strong dry loam ten feet square on
the N. E, side of a mountain in Moreau township,
Orange County, was thoroughly cleared of stones, and
dug up twelve inches deep, on the 10th of June last ; it
was then covered by a mixture of ten bushels of char
coal dust and twenty bushels of black swamp mould,
which was well harrowed in. About the Qth of July it
was sown with your Ruta Baga in drills of twenty inches
apart, the turnips being ten inches distant from each
other. They came up badly and were weeded out on
the 10th of August. On the 15th of August a table-
spoonful of ashes was put round every turnip, which
operation was repeated on the 20th of September. The
ground was kept perfectly clean through the whole sea
son. Six seeds of the common turnip were by accident
dropped into the patch, and received the same atten
tion as the rest. These common turnips weighed two
pounds a piece. The whole yield of the Ruta Baga
was three bushels, each turnip weighing from four to
eight pounds. The roots penetrated about twelve in
ches into the ground, although the season was remark
ably dry.
654. A piece of rich, moist, loamy land containing
four square rods, was ploughed twice in June, and the
seeds of your Ruta Baga sown on the 4th of July in
broad cast, and kept clean through the season. This
patch produced twenty-jive bushels of turnips, each
turnip weighing from four to nine pounds. This, you
perceive, is at the enormous rate of 1000 bushels an
Part III.] POSTSCRIPT. 3.37
600. It is Mr. Townsend's opinion, that on some of
the soils of Orange County your Ruta Bagu may be
made to yield 1500 bushels an acre.
I remain, with much respoct,
Your obedient Servant.
P. S. TOWNSEND.
William Cobbctt, Esq.
Hyde Parky Lung It land.
[ 358 ]
SECOND POSTSCRIPT.
FEARON'S FALSEHOODS.
To THE EDITOR OF THE NATIONAL ADVOCATE,
S I R, Hyde park, Jan. $th, 1819.
656. BEFORE I saw your paper of the day before
yesterday, giving some extracts from a book published
in England by one Fearon, 1 had written part of the
following article, and had prepared to send it home as
part of a Register, of which I send one every week.
Your paper enabled me to make an addition to the
article ; and, in the few words below, I have this day
sent the whole off to be published in London. If you
think it worth inserting, I beg you to have the goodness
to give it a place ; and 1 beg the same favour at the
hands of all those editors who may have published
Fearon's account of what he calls his visit to me.
I am, Sir,
Your most obedient,
And most humble Servant,
WM. COBBETT.
657. There is, I am told, one FEARON, who has gone
home and written and published a book, abusing this
country and its people in the grossest manner. L only
hear of it by letter. I hear, also, that he speaks of me
as if he knew me. I will tell you how far he knew me :
I live at a country house 20 miles from New York.
One morning, in the summer of 1817, a young man
came into the hall, and introduced himself to me under
tke name of FEARON. The following I find about Igm
Part ill.] SECOND POSTSCRIPT. 35<)
in my journal: — " A Mr. FEARON came this morning
" and liad breakfast with us. Told us an odd story
" about having slept in a black woman's hut last night
" for sixpence, though there are excellent taverns at
" every two miles along the road. Told us a still odder
" story about his being an envoy from a host of families
" in London, to look out for a place of settlement in
" America; but he took special care not to name any
" one of those families, though we asked him to do it.
" We took him, at first, for a sort of spy. William
" thinks he is a shopkeeper's clerk ; I think he has
" been a tailor. { observed that he carried his elbow
" close to his sides, and his arms, below the elbow, in
" a horizontal position. It came out that he had been
" with BUCHANAN, Castlereagh's consul at New York ;
<s but it is too ridiculous ; such a thing as this cannot
'c be a spy ; he can get access nowhere but to taverns
" and boarding houses."
6,58. This note now stands in my journal or diary of
<2Cnd August 1817. I remember that he asked me some
very silly questions about the prices of land, cattle, and
other things, which I answered very shortly. He asked
my advice about the families emigrating, and the very
words 1 uttered in answer were these : — " Every thing
'•' I can say, in such a case, is to discourage the enter-
" prize. If Englishmen come here, let them come
" individually, and sit down amongst the natives : no
" other plan is rational."
659. W hat 1 have heard of this man since, is, that he
spent his time, or great part of it, in New York, amongst
the idle and dissolute young Englishmen, whose laziness
and extravagance had put them in a state to make them
uneasy,and to make them unnoticed byrespectable people.
That country must be bad, to be sure, which would not give
them ease and abundance without labour or economy.
660. Now, what can such a man know of America ?
He has not kept house ; he has had no being in any
ueighbourhood ; he has never had any circle of acquaint
ances amongst the people ; he has never been a guest
under any of their roofs ; he knows nothing of their
manners or their characters ; and how can such a man
360 SECOND POSTSCRIPT. [Part 111.
be a judge of the effects of their institutions, civil, poli
tical, or religious ?
661. I have no doubt, however, that the reviews and
newspapers, in the pay of the Boroughmongers, will do
their best to propagate the falsehoods contained in this
man's book. But what would you say of the people of
America, if they were to affect to believe what the French
General said of the people of England ? This man, in
a book which he published in France, said, that all the
English married women got drunk, and swore like
troopers ; and that all the young women were strum
pets, and that the greater part of them had bastards
before they were married. Now, if the people of Ame
rica were to affect to believe this, what should we say of
them ? Yet, this is just as true as this Fearon's account
of the people of America.
662. As to the facts of this man's visit to me, my son
William, who is, by this time, in London, can and will
vouch for their truth at any time, and, if necessary, to
Fearon's face, if Fearon has a face which he dares show.
663. Since writing the above, the New York papers
have brought me a specimen of Mr. FEARON'S perform
ance. 1 shall notice only his account of his visit to me.
It is in the following words :
664. " A Visit to Mr. Cobbett. — Upon arriving at
" Mr. Cobbett's gate, my feelings, in walking along
" the path which led to the residence of this celebrated
" man are difficult to describe. The idea of a person
" self-banished, leading an isolated life in a foreign
" land ; a path rarely trod, fences in ruins, the gate
" broken, a house mouldering to decoy, added to much
" awkwardness of feeling on my part, calling upon an
" entire stranger, produced in my mind feelings of
<c thoughtfulness and melancholy. I would fain almost
" have returned without entering the wooden mansion,
" imagining that its possessor would exclaim, ' What
" intruding fellow is here coming to break in upon my
" pursuits ! ' But these difficulties ceased almost with
" their existence. A female servant (an English wo-
" man) informed me that her master was from home,
" attending at the county court. Her language was
Part III,] SECOND POSTSCRIPT. 361
" natural enough for a person in her situation ; she
" pressed me to walk in, being quite certain that I was
" her countryman; and she was so delighted to see an
* ' Englishman, instead of those nasty guessing Yankees.
" Following my guide through the kitchen, (the floor
" of which, she asserted, was imbedded with two feet
" of dirt when Mr. Cobbett came there — it had been
" previously in the occupation of Americans} I was
" conducted to a front parlour, which contained but
" a single chair and several trunks of sea-clothes,
" Mr. Cobbett's first question on seeing me was, ' Arfe
" you an American, Sir ?' then, ' What are my ob-
" jects in the United States ? Was I acquainted with
" the friends of liberty in London? How long had I
"left?'&c. He was immediately familiar. I was
" pleasingly disappointed with the general tone of his
" manners. Mr. Cobbett thinks meanly of the Ame-
11 rican people, but spoke highly of the economy of their
" government. — He does not advise persons in respect-
" able circumstances to emigrate, even in the present
" state of England. In his opinion a family who can
" barely live upon their property, will more consult
" their happiness by not removing to the United States.
" He almost laughs at Mr. Birkbeck's settling in the
" western country. This being the first time 1 had seen
" this well-known character, 1 viewed him with no or-
" dinary degree of interest. A print by Bartolozzi,
" executed in 1801, conveys a correct outline of his
" person. His eyes are small, and pleasingly good-
" natured. To a French gentleman present, he was
"attentive; with his sons, familiar; to his servants,
" easy, but to all, in his tone and manner, resolute
" and determined. He feels no hesitation in praising
" himself, and evidently believes that he is eventually
" destined to be the Atlas of the British nation. His
" faculty in relating anecdotes is amusing. Instances
" when we meet. My impressions of Mr. Cobbett
" are, that those who know him would like him if they
" can be content to submit unconditionally to his dic-
" tation. ' Obey me and £ will treat you kindly ; if
" you do not, I will trample on you/ seemed visible in
Q
362 SECOND POSTSCRIPT. [Part III.
" every word and feature. He appears to feel, in its
" fullest force the sentiment,
' I have no brother, am like no brother :
* lam myself alone."
665. It is unlucky for this blade, that the parties are
alive, First — let the " English woman" speak for her
self, which she does, in these words :
666. I remember, that, about a week after I came to
Hyde Park, in 1817, a man came to the house in the
evening, when Mr. Cobbett was out, and that he came
again the next morning. 1 never knew, or asked what
countryman he was. He came to the back door. I
first gave him a chair in a back-room ; but, as he was
a slippery-looking young man, and as it was growing
late, my husband thought it was best to bring him down
into the kitchen, where he staid till he went away. 1
had no talk with him. I could not know what condition
Mr. Cobbett found the house in, for 1 did not come
here 'till the middle of August. I never heard whether
the gentleman that lived here before Mr. Cobbett, was
an American, or not. I never in my life said a word
against the people or the'country : I am very glad I came
to it ; 1 am doing very well in it ; and have found as
good and kind friends amongst the Americans, as I ever
had in all my life.
MARY ANN CHURCHER.
Hyde Park,
%th January, l"8f9.
667. Mrs. Churcher puts me in mind, that 1 asked
her what sort of a looking man it was, and that she said
he looked like an Exciseman, and that Churcher ex
claimed : " Why, you fool, they don't have any Excise-
" men and such fellows here ! " — 1 never was at a county
court in America in my life. I was out shooting. As
to the house, it is a better one than he ever entered,
except as a lodger, or a servant, or to carry home work.
The path, so far from being trackless, was as beaten
as the highway. — The gentleman who lived here before
me was an Englishman, whose name was Crow. But
only think of dirt, two feet deep, in a kitchen ! All is
Part III.] SECOND POSTSCRIPT. 363
false. — The house was built by Judge Ludlow. It is
large, and very sound and commodious. The avenues
of trees before it the most beautiful that I ever saw.
The orchard, the fine shade and fine grass all about the
house ; the abundant garden, the beautiful turnip field
the whole a subject worthy of admiration ; and not a
single drawback. A hearty, unostentatious welcome
from me and my sons. A breakfast such, probably, as
the fellow will never eat again. I leave the public to
guess, whether it be likely, that 1 should give a chap
like this my opinions, about government or people ! Just
as if I did not know the people ! Just as if they were
new to me ! The man was not in the house half an
hour in the morning. Judge, then, what he could know
of my manners and character. He was a long time
afterwards at New York. Would he not have been
here a second time, if 1 had been familiar enough to
relate anecdotes to him ? Such blades are not back
ward in renewing their visits whenever they get but a
little encouragement. He, in another part of the ex
tracts that I have seen, complains of the reserve of the
American ladies. No " social intercourse" he says
between the sexes. That is to say, he could find none !
I'll engage he could not ; amongst the whites, at least.
It is hardly possible for me to talk about the public
affairs of England and not to talk of some of my own
acts ; but is it not monstrous to suppose, that I should
praise myself and show that I believed myself destined
to be the Atlas of the British nation, in my conversa
tion of a few minutes with an utter stranger, and that
too, a blade whom I took for a decent tailor, my son
William for a shopkeeper's clerk, and Mrs. Churcher,
with less charity, for a slippery young man, or, at best,
for an Exciseman ? — As I said before, such a man can
know nothing of the people of America. He has no
channel through which to get at them. And indeed,
why should he ! Can he go into the families of people at
home ! Not he, indeed, beyond his own low circle. Why
should he do it here, then ? Did he think he was com
ing here to live zijree quarter ? The black woman's
hut, indeed, he might force himself into with impunity;
Q %
364 SECOND POSTSCRIPT. [Part III.
sixpence would insure him a reception there ; but,- it
would be a shame, indeed, if such a man could be ad
mitted to unreserved intercourse with American ladies.
Slipper?/ as he was, he could not slide into their good
graces, and into the possession of their fathers' soul-
subduing dollars ; and so he is gone home to curse the
" nasty guessing Americans."
WM. COBBETT.
INDEX TO PART I.
APPLES exchanged for turnips, March 31st.
Fall-Pipin, description of, Oct. 7th.
Buckwheat, time for sowing, July 23d. — 'Time for cutting Oct. 6th,
Barns, very fine in Pennsylvania, Feb. 1 6th.
Beans, kidney, green, in market, Oct. llth.
Board of Agriculture, par. 117.
Birkbeck, Mr., par. 16, Jan. 21st, Feb. 23rd, March llth.
Burdett, Sir F., March 12th, par 98.
Candles, home made, remarks on, Dec. 25th.
Climate, May 5th 1817, to April 24th 1818.
Corporations, as law-givers, Feb. 28th.
Curwen, Mr., par. 68, 69, 121. 123.
Cartwright, Major, par. 111.
Cramp, Mr., par. 117. 132.
Cas<tlereagh, par. 120.
Disciples, ears of corn that they plucked, Jane 3rd.
Dress whereby to judge of the weather, June 16th, July 10th, Sept.
18th— 28th, Oct. llth— 22d, Nov. llth, March 21st."
Dews, equal to showers. July 29th, Jan. 13th.
England, neatness of its inhabitants, par. 18 — Wetness of the climate,
July 24. — Population of, shifted, and not augmented, by the Fund
ing System, Feb. 16.
Fences on Long Island, par. 16.
Flies and inusquitoes, bred by filth, June 19th, July 14.
Fowls ought to be kept warm, Jan. 4th, March I5lh.
Farms, description of, on Long Island, par. 22.
houses in Pennsylvania, Feb. 16th.
Fruits, dried, March 3 1st.
Flowers, want of, in America, par. 22.
Fortesque, Feb. 16th.
Freemantle, Mr. Nicholas, March tst.
Gauntlet, Mr. W.,his pigs, par. 101.
Harvest earlier than in England, par. 19 — Description of, July 24th.
Hops grow well in America, Feb. 7th.
Hedges not found in America, March llth.
Health, par. 23.
Hagar, prayer of, Feb. 16th.
Harisburg, description of, living at, Jan. 25 — 27.
Hulme, Mr., Feb. 15— 20th.
Hinxman, Mr. Richard, March 1st.
Hardwicke, Lord, par. 119.
Indian corn described, June 3d.
Locusts that John the Baptist lived on, June 3d,
3 Q
366 INDEX.
Long Island, description of, par. 12 to 15. — Its nearness to the sea an
advantage in summer, June 14th.
Lancaster, description of, Jau 22d,Feb. 12 — 16th.
Livingstone, Mr. Chancellor, par. 25. 27.
Mangel Wurzel, an indifferent root par. 88,
Moses. July, 24th.
Maseres, Mr. Baron, Dec. 16th.
M'Kean, Judge, Jan. 10th.
M'Allister, Mr., Jan. 28th.
Mai thus, Parson, Feb. 16th.
New Jersey, in comparison to Pennsylvania, March llth.
Newbold, Mr., March llth.
Oliver, the spy, March 2nd.
Ploughing, principles of, par. 121 to 125.
Peas, fit to gather June 18th. — Ripe in 40 days. — Green, in market,
October llth.
Puddings of apple, July 9th, August 23rd.
Philadelphia, remarks on, Jan. 15th.
Penn, William, Feb. 16th.
Pendrill, Mr., March 1st.
Perry, Mr. James, par. 21.
Pitt," par. 117.
Quakers, hospitality of, March 10,—Bad gardeners, March llth.
River Delaware, Jan. 13th, Feb.20tb.
.... Susquehannah, Jan. 25th. Feb. 1st.
Radish, very large, Oct. 28th.
Ruta Baga, description of the plant, par. 25 to 30.— Mode of saving
and of preserving the seed, par. 31 to 36. — Time of sowing, par.
, 37 to 44. — Quality and preparation of the seed, par. 45 to 49. —
Manner of sowing, par. 50 to 55. — After-culture, par. 56 to 64. —
Transplanting, par. 65 to 103. — Time and manner of harvesting,
par. 104 to 114.— Quality of the crop, par. 115 to 156.
Roscoe, Mr.r March 26th.
Rousseau, March 26th.
Stones, a barometer, August 7th.
Singing-birds, none in America, par. 22.
Shoes need never be nailed, March 31st.
Scavengers substituted by hogs, Feb. 28th.
Stock, prices of, May 20th, Dec. 15th.
...... of pi-ovisions at breaking up of winter, par. 21.
Severne, Mr., March 1st.
Stevens, Mr., March 2nd.
f^j boats, pa, 12.
Threshing, mode of, July 24th.
Travelling, author's, March llth to 13th.
Trenton, laziness of the young men, March llth.
Taverns, Slaymaker's, living at, Feb. 12th.
........ charges very reasonable, March llth.
Taylor, Mr. Antony, March the llth.
Tull. par. 60.68. 121. 124.
INDEX, :\67
Vegetation, how vigorous, July 29th. Continues very late, Nor
1 6th. State of it in April, par. 21 .
Vere, March 1st.
Woodcocks, time of coming, July 26th.
Western countries, folly of going to, par. 96. The people dirty,
Jan. 21st,
Winter of America preferable to that of Englasd. Mar. 31st.
does not set in till the ponds are full Dec.
14th.
Woods of America, beautiful, par. 15.
Woods, Mr. par. 101.
Yankee family, migration of, March 12th.
Yoke, single for oxen, (plate of it), par. 124.
Young, Arthur, Sept. 9th. par. 117, 118.
INDEX TO PART II.
Buoo.M-Corn, paragraph 171.
Baker, Mr, 185. 445.
Botley, 211.
Byrd, Mr. James, 233.
Brown, Mr. Timothy, 286.
Bentham, Mr. Jeremy; 405.
Brougham, Mr., 405.
Burdett, Sir F., 409.
Chalcraft. 430.
Curwen, Mr., 164. 283.
Cabbages, 165, 166.
Cochrane, Lord. 242. 444.
Cows, 293.
Cheese, 330.
Coffin, Sir Isaac, 371.
Christian, Mr. Professor, 400.
Clarke, Mrs., 443.
Dorsetshire, 181.
Dayrea, Mr., 197, 232.
Drinking, 230.
Earth-burning, 165, 194.
Encyclopaedia Britannica, 190.
Expense of cultivating Cabbages in America, 190.
Fences. 162.
Fruit in America, 334.
Furniture, Household, 337.
Gater, Mr., 324.
Government, laws and Religion of America, 400.
Giddy, Mr., Davies, 409.
368 INDEX.
Gamier Mr., 428.
Hulme,Mr., 161.
Hart, the Rev. Mr., 232.
Hogs, 295.
Hicks, Mr, Elias.315.
House-keeping, expenses of, 325.
Hackney Coaches at New York, 338.
Hops, 430.
Indian Corn, transplanting of, 165. 213.
Judges, description of the American, 264.
Lockhart, Mr., 445.
Lawrence, Mr. Judge, 219.
London, 176.
Mitchell, Dr., 218.
Mitchell, Mr. Judge, 232. 236. 257.
New York, 176.
New Brunswick, 186.
Nova Scotia, 241.
Preface to Second Part, 157.
Paul, Mr. James. 163.
Paul, Miss Sarah, 169.
Pricking out plants, 181.
Preparation of the land intended for root crops, 183.
Postscript, 247.
Pitt, 263.
Poultry, 309.
Prices of land, 310.
of labour, food and raiment, 313. 342.
People of America, their manners, customs, &c. 452.
Phillips, Sir-Richard, 372.
Paupers, 389.
the Sardinian, 394.
Parsons, the Hampshire, 444.
Rnta Baga, 165. 175. 225.
Rural Sports, 369.
Rose, George, 428.
Soot, 207.
Smith, Mr. William, 245,
Sheep, 294.
vStickler, Mr. , 330.
Servants, Domestic, 339.
Stewart, Daniel, 439.
Tull, Mr., 164. 201. 259.
Turnips, Swedish, 225.
directions for sowing the, 184. 185.
Turnips, Swedish, directions for planting, 228.
for the cultivation of, 233.
for preserving of, 240. 242.
proper age for planting, 187.
Tierney, Mr., 230.
Tissot, Monsieur, 282.
Taylor, Job, 328.
Tocker, Miss, 443.
Tithes, 443.
Wiltshire, 18L
INDEX. 369
Waithman, Signer, 336.
Wakeficld,Mr. O.,398.
Winchester, 444.
Wiggins, Mr., 201.
INDEX TO PART III.
ALLEGHENNY Mountains, paragraph 564.
Burdett, Sir F., 461.
Birkbeck, Mr., 507.
Letters to, against emigrating to the Illinois Territory,
569. 616. 621.
Broom -Corn, the utility of, 641.
Baring-, Mr., 647.
Cartwright, Major, 461.
Cincinnati, 487. 489.
Chambers, Mr., Judge, a tavern-keeper, 52(5.
Clay, Mr., 531.
Chillicothe, 540.
Corn, Mr. Birkbeck's idea of the extent of crop of, &c, 606.
Cobbett, Mr., his Letter on Ruta Baga, 649.
Churcher, Mary-Ann, 666.
Brown, T. Esq., Dedication to, 249.
Dillon, Mr., 549.
Expenses of Mr. Hulme on his Tour, 566.
ditto, for a Year's house-keeping, 567.
.. . . ~. . ..of settling in the Illinois, as calculated by Mr. Birk
beck, 592. 597. 693.
, of the erection of buildings, fey Mr. Cobbett, 599.
600. 601. 603.
French Lick, 526.
Flower, Mr. G., his opinion that Farmers '« transplant well."
574.
Freedom of Gipsies, 584.
Flogging of English Local Militia at Ely, 646.
Fearon's Falsehoods, 656.
Grab am, Mr. 555.
Hulme, Mr., 450.
Harmony, 513.
Iron Factories, 549.
Journal, lutroduction to, 453.
Louisville, 493.
Lawrence, Mr.Judge, his farm, 590.
Maysville, 537,
Mills, 637.
370 INDEX.
Preface to THIRD PART, 449.
Pittsburgh, 472, 561.
Princeton, 502.
Prices, general list of, taken by Mr. Hulme at Zanesvillc, 550.
Partnerships amongst leaders not always harmonious, 582.
Pigs, Swedish Turnips, &c. 643.
Quakers and Parsons : the former preferred to the latter, 56'8.
Rapp, Mr. George, 515. 583.
Road of the general government from Zanesville to Pittsburgh
553.
Rencontre at New York, 565.
Steam-boats, 556.
Steubenville, Woolen Factory at, 558.
Society in the Illinois, 581.
Thatching, 641.
Townsend, P. S. Esq., Letter to Mr. Cobbett on the Ruta Baga,
652.
Vevay, 492.
Western Countries, 449.
Wages in Western Countries, 535.
Wheeling, Virginia, 554.
Windham, Mr., 584.
Zanesville, 546.
6. EENSUET. TBINTBR, ANDOVZR.
N. B. All the Books undermentioned, are published at
No. 11, Bolt-court, Fleet-street, London- and arc
to be had of all the Booksellers in the Kingdom.
THE
WHEN I am asked what books a young man or young
woman ought to read, I always answer, Let him or her
read all the books that I have written. This does, it will
doubtless be said, smell of the shop. No matter. It is
what I recommended ; and experience has taught me that
it is my duty to give the recommendation. I am speaking
here of books other than THE REGISTER ; and even
these, that I call my LIBRARY, consist of thirty -nine
distinct books; two of them being TRANSLATIONS ; seven
of them being written BY MY SONS; one (TuLi/s HUS
BANDRY) revised and edited, and one published by me, and
written by the Rev. Mr. O'CALLAGHAN, a most virtuous
Catholic Priest. I divide these books into classes, as fol
lows: 1. Booksfor TEACHING LANGUAGE; 2. On DO
MESTIC MANAGEMENT AND DUTIES; 3. On RURAL
AFFAIRS: 4. On THE MANAGEMENT OF NATIONAL
AFFAIRS; 5. HISTORY; 6. TRAVELS; 7. LAWS; 8.
MISCELLANEOUS POLITICS. Here is a great variety of
subjects; and all of them very dry : nevertheless the manner
of treating them is, in general, such as to induce the
reader to go through the book, when he has once begun it.
2 LIST OF Miu COBBETT'S BOOKS.
I will now speak of each book separately under the several
heads above-mentioned. N. B. All the books are bound in
boards^ which will be borne in mind when the price is
looked at.
1. BOOKS FOR TEACHING KNOWLEDGE.
ENGLISH
I have been frequently asked by mothers of families, by some
fathers, and by some schoolmasters even, to write a book that
they could begin teaching by ; one that should begin at the begin
ning; of book learning, and smooth the way along to my own
English Grammar, which is the entrance-gate. I often promised
to comply with these requests, and, from time to time, in the in
tervals of political heats, I have thought of the thing, till, at last,
I found time enough to sit down and put it upon paper. The ob
jection to the common spelling-books is, that the writers aim at
teaching several important sciences in a little book in which the
whole aim should be the teaching of spelling and reading. We
are presented with a little ARITHMETIC, a little ASTRONOMY, a
little GEOGRAPHY, and a good deal of RELIGION ! No wonder the
poor little things imbibe a hatred of books in the first that they
look into ! Disapproving heartily of these books, I have care
fully abstained from every-thing beyond the object in view ; namely,
the teaching of a child to spell and read ; and this work 1 have
made as pleasant as I could, by introducing such stories as children
most delight in, accompanied by those little wood-cut illustrations
which amuse them. At the eud of the book there is a " Stepping-
stone to the English Grammar." It is but a step ; it is designed
to teach a child the different/w/s of speech, and the use of points,
•with one or two small matters of the kind. The book is in the
duodecimo form, contains 176 pages of print, and the price is 2s.
ENGLISH GRAMrvlAB,,
COBBETT'S ENGLISH GRAMMAR. (Price 3s.}— This work
is in a series of letters addressed to my son James, when he was
14 years old. 1 made him copy the whole of it before it went to
press ; and that made him a grammarian at once; and how able
a one it made him will be seen by his own Grammar of the ITA
LIAN LANGUAGE, his RIDE IN FRANCE, and his TOUR IN ITALY.
There are at the end of this Grammar " Six Lessons intended to
prevent Statesmen from using false grammar : " and I really wish
that our statesmen would attend to the instructions of the whole
book. Thousands upon thousands of young men have been made
correct writers by it ; and, it is next to impossible that they should
have read with attention without its producing such effect. It is a
book of principles^ clearly laid down ; and when once these are
got into the mind they never quit it. More than 100,000 of this
work have been sold.
LIST OF MR. COBBETT'S BOOKS. 3
GItAIVBXVIAIl.
COBBEIT'S FRENCH GRAMMAR (Price 5s.) ; or, Plain
.Instructions for the Learning' of French. — This book has had, and
has, a very'great effect in the producing; of its object. More young
men have, J dare say, learned French from it, than from all the
other books that have beea published in English for the last fifty
years. It is, like the former, a book of principles, clearly laid
down. I had this great advantage, too, that I had learnt French
without a master. I had grubbed it out, bit by bit, and knew well
how to remove all the difficulties ; I remembered what it was that
had puzzled and retarded me ; and I have taken care, in this my
Grammar, to prevent the reader from experiencing that which, in
this respect, I experienced myself. This Grammar, as well as the
former, is kept out of schools, owing to the fear that the masters
and mistresses have of being looked upon as COBBETTITES. So
much the worse for the children of the stupid brutes who are the
cause of this fear, which sensible people laugh at, and avail them
selves of the advantages tendered to them iu the books. Teaching
French in English Schools is, generally, a mere delusion ; and as
to teaching the pronunciation by rules t it is the grossest of all
human absurdities. My knowledge of French was so complete
thirty-seven years ago, that the very first thing in the shape of a
book that I wrote for the press, was a Grammar to teach French
men English ; and of course it was written in French. I must
know all about these two languages; and must be able to give
advice to young people on the subject : their time is precious ; and
I advise them not to waste it upon what are called lessons from
masters and mistresses. To learn the pronunciation, there is no
way but that of hearing those, and speaking with those, who
speak the language well. My Grammar will do the rest.
Just published, Second Edition, 6*. boards,
A CrXlAXVITCAXl OP THE XTAXiXAUT Xi AW GIT AGE ?
Or, a Plain and Compendious Introduction to the Study of Italian.
By JAMES PAUL COBBETT. This work contains explanations and
examples to teach the language practically ; and the principles of
construction are illustrated by passages from the best Italian authors.
LIST OF MR. COBBETT'S BOOKS.
EXES.CISSS.
EXERCISES TO COBBEFT'S FRENCH GRAMMAR (Price
2s ) is just published. It is an accompaniment to the French
Grammar, and is necessary to the learner who has been diligent
hi his reading of the Grammar. By JAMES COUBETT.
COBBETPS FRENCH AND ENGLISH DICTIONARY.—
This book is now published. Its price is 12s. in. boards ; and it
is a thick octavo volume.
GBOGIL^PHICAI. 25ICTIOIJA1LY OF
ATXO WAZ.ES.
This book was suggested to me by my own frequent want of
the information which it contains ; a suggestion which, if every
compiler did hut wait to feel before he puts his shears to work,
would spare the world many a voluminous and useless book, lam
constantly receiving letters out of the country, the writers living in
obscure places, but who seldom think of giving more than the name
of the place that they write from ; and thus have I been often puzzled
to death to find out even the county in which it is, before 1 could re
turn an answer. I one day determined, therefore, for my own con
venience, to have a list made out of every parish in the kingdom ;
but this being done, I found that I had still townships and hamlets
to add in order to make my list complete ; and when 1 had got the
vrork only half done, J found it a book ; and that, with the addition
of bearkig, and population, and distance from the next market-
town, or if a market-town, from London, it would be a really use
ful Geographical Dictionary. It is a work which the learned would
call sui generis ; it prompted itself into life, and it has grown in
my hands ; but 1 will here insert the whole of the title-page, for
that contains a full description of the book. It is a thick octave
volume, price 12A-.
" A GEOGRAPHICAL DICTIONARY OF ENGLAND AND
" WALES ; containing the names, in Alphabetical Order, of all the
" Counties, with their several Subdivisions into Hundreds, Lathes,
" Rapes, Wapentakes, Wards, or Divisions; and an Account of
" the Distribution of the Counties into Circuits, Dioceses, and
*' Parliamentary Divisions. Also, the names (under that of each
" County respectively), in Alphabetical Order, of all the Cities,
•' Boroughs, Market Towns, Villages, Hamlets, and Tithings, with
** the Distance of each from London, or from the nearest Market
*' Town, and with the Population, and other interesting particulars
" relating to each ; besides which there are MAPS ; first, one of the
" whole country, showing the local situation of the Counties rela-
" tively to each other ; and, then, each County is also preceded by
" a Map, showing, in the same manner, the local situation of the
«' Cities, Boroughs, and Market Towns. FOUR TABLES are
" added ; first, a Statistical Table of all the Counties ; and then
" three Tables, showing the new Divisions and Distributions en-
" acted by the Reform-Law of 4th June, 1832."
LIST OF MR. COBBETT'S BOOKS. 5
2. BOOKS ON DOMESTIC MANAGEMENT AND
DUTIES.
COTTAGS ECOWOB&Y.
COBBETT'S COTTAGE ECONOMY (Price 2s. 6rf.) ; con
taining information relative to the brewing of Beer, making- of
Bread, keeping of Cows, Pigs, Bees, Ewes, Goats, Poultry, and
Rabbits, and relative to other matters deemed useful in the con-
ductiugof the Affairs of a Labourer's Family ; to which are added,
instructions relative to the selecting, the cutting and the bleaching
of the Plants of English Grass and Grain, for the purpose of mak
ing Hats and Bonnets ; and also Instructions for erecting and using*
Ice-houses, after the Virginian manner. — In my oicn estimation, the
book that stands first is POOR MAN'S FRIEND; and the one that
stands next is this COTTAGE ECONOMY ; and beyond all description
is the pleasure I derive from reflecting on the number of happy
families that this little book must have made. I dined in company
with a lady in Worcestershire, who desired to see me on account of
this book ;"and she told me that until she read it, she knew nothing
at all about these two great matters, the making of bread and of
beer ; but that from the moment she read the book, she began to
teach her servants, and that the benefits were very great. But, to
the labouring- people, there are the arguments in favour of good
conduct, sobriety, frugality, industry, all the domestic virtues ; here
are the reasons for all these ; and it must be a real devil in human
shape, who does not applaud the man who could sit down to write
this book, a copy of which every parson ought, upon pain of loss of
ears, to present to every girl that he marries, rich or poor.
TO YOUNG
COBBETT'S ADVICE TO YOUNG MEN, and (incidentally)
to Young- Women, in the middle and higher Ranks of Life (Price 5s.)
It was published in 14 numbers, and is now in one vol. complete.
COBBETT'S SERMONS (Price Zs. 6V.)— There are 13 of them
on the following subjects : 1. Hypocrisy and Cruelty ; 2. Drunk
enness; 3. Bribery; 4. The Rights of the Poor ; 5. Unjust Judges ;
6. The Sluggard;* 7. Murder; 8. Gaming; 9. Public Robbery;
10. The unnatural Mother; 11. Forbidding Marriage; 12. Parsons
and Tithes ; 13. Good Friday ; or, God's Judgment on the Jews. —
More of these Sermons have been sold than of the Sermons of
all the Church-parsons put together since mine were published.
There are some parsons who have the good sense and the virtue to
preach them from the pulpit.
3. BOOKS ON RURAL AFFAIRS.
COBBETT'S EDITION OF TULL'S HUSBANDRY (Price
15s.): THE HORSE.HOE1NG HUSBANDRY; or, A TREA-
A3
6 LIST OF MR. COBBETT'S BOOKS.
TISE on the Principles of TILLAGE and VEGETATION, wherein is
taught a Method of introducing a sort of VINEYARD CULTURE into
the CORN-FIKLDS, in order to increase their Product and diminish
the common Expense. By JETHRO TULL, of Shalborne, in the
county of Berks. To which is prefixed, An INTRODUCTION, expla
natory of some Circumstances connected with the History and Di
vision of the Work ; and containing an Account of certain Experi
ments of recent date, by WILLIAM COBBETT. — From this famous
book I learned all my principles relative to farming, gardening,
and planting. It really, without a pun, goes to the root of the sub
ject. Before I read this book I had seen enough of effects, but
really knew nothing about the causes. It contains the foundation.
of all knowledge in the cultivation of the earth.
YEAR'S RESrOEiKTCE IN AMERICA.
COBBETT'S YEAR'S RESIDENCE IN AMERICA, WITH
A MAP (Price 5s.) ; treating of the Face of the Country, the
Climate, the Soil, the Products, the Mode of Cultivating the Land,
the Prices of Land, of Labour, of Food, of Raiment; of the Ex
penses of Housekeeping, and of the usual Manner of Living ; of
the Manners and Customs of the People ; and of the Institutions of
the Country, Civil, Political, and Religious; in three Parts. — The
map is a map of the United States. The book contains a Journal
of the Weather for one whole year ; and it has an account of my
farming- in that country; and also an account of the causes of poor
Mirkbeck* s failure \\\ his undertaking. A book very necessary to
all men of property who emigrate to the United States.
THE ENGLISH GARDENER,.
COBBETT'S ENGLISH GARDENER (Price 6s.) ; or A T*EA-
TISE on the Situation, Soil, Enclosing and Laying-out of Kitchen-
Gardens; on the Making and Managing of Hot-Beds and Green-
Houses ; and on the Propagation and Cultivation of all sorts of
Kitchen-Garden Plants, and of Fruit-Trees, whether of the Garden,
or the Orchard. And also on the Formation of Shrubberies and
Flower-Gardens ; and on the Propagation and Cultivation of the
several sorts of Shrubs and Flowers; concluding with a KALEN-
DAR, giving Instructions relative bo the Sowings, Plantings, Prun-
ings, and other labours, to be performed in the Gardens, in each
Mouth of the Year. — A complete book of the kind. A plan of a
kitchen-garden i and little plates to explain the works of pruning,
grafting, and budding. But it is here, as in all my books, the
principles that are valuable : it is a knowledge of these that fills
th reader with delight in the pursuit. I wrote a Gardener for
America, and the vile wretch who pirated it there had the base
ness to leave out the dedication. No pursuit is so rational as this,
as an amusement or relaxation, and none so innocent and so use
ful. It naturally leads to early rising; to sober contemplation;
and is conducive to health. Every young man should be a gar
dener, if possible, whatever else may be his pursuits.
LIST OF MR. COBBETT'S BOOKS.
THE V700DI./LNDS.
COBBETT'S WOODLANDS (Price 14*.) ; or, A TREATISE on
the Preparing of Ground for Planting; on the Planting; on the
Cultivating ; on the Pruning; and on the Cutting down of Forest
Trees and Underwoods ; describing the usual Growth and Size and
the Uses of each sort of Tree, the Seed of each, the Season and
Manner of collecting the Seed, the Manner of Preserving and Sow
ing it, and also the Manner of Managing the Youug Plants until fit
to plant out ; the TREES being arranged in Alphabetical Order, and
the List of them, including those of America as well as those of
England, and the English, French, and Latin name being prefixed
to the Directions relative to each Tree respectively. — This work
takes every tree at ITS SEED, and carries an account of it to the
cutting down and converting to its uses.
A. TB.EATISE OK COBBSTT'S CORN.
COBBETT'S CORN-BOOK (Price 5s.) ; or, A TREATISE on
COBBETT'S CORN : containing Instructions for Propagating and
Cultivating the Plant, and for Hdrvesting and Preserving the
Crop; and also an Account of the several Uses to which the Pro
duce is applied, with Minute Directions relative to each Mode of
Application. — This edition I sell at 5*. that it may get into nu
merous hands. I have had, even t/tia year, a noble crop of this
corn ; and 1 undertake to pledge myself, that this corn will be in
general cultivation in England, in two or three years from this
time, in spite of all that fools and malignant asses can say against
it. When I get time to go out into the country, amongst the la
bourers in KENT, SUSSEX, HANTS, WILTS, and BEHKS, who are
now more worthy of encouragement and good living than they evee
were, though they were always excellent ; I promise myself the
pleasure of seeing this beautiful crop growing in all their gardens,
and to see every man of them once mure with a bit of meat on his
table and in his satchell, instead of the infamous potato.
4. MANAGEMENT OF NATIONAL AFFAIRS.
PAPER. AGAXCTST GOLD.
COBBETT'S PAPER AGAINST GOLD (Price 5s.) ; or, the
History and Mystery of the Bank of England, of the Debt, of
the Stocks, of the Sinking Fund, and of all the other tricks and con
trivances carried on by the means of Paper Money. — This is the
tenth edition of this work, which will, I trust, be admired long after
the final destruction of the horrible system which it exposes. It is
the A, B, C, of paper-money learning. Every young man should
read it with attention .
8 LIST OF MR. COBBETT'S BOOKS.
THE CUZtSE OT
THE CURSE OF PAPER-MONEY; showing the Evil* pro
duced in America by Paper-Money. By WILLIAM GOUGK; and
Reprinted, with a Preface, by WILLIAM COBBETT, M.P. Price 4s.
FOUR LETTERS TO THE HON. JOHN STUART
WORTLEY, in Answer to his " Brief Inquiry into the True
Award of an Equitable Adjustment between the Nation and its
Creditors." Price 2s.
TLVK.A7, 2LSUES
COBBETT'S RURAL RIDES. (Price 5*.)— RURAL RIDES in
the Counties of Surrey, Kent, Sussex, Hampshire, Wiltshire,
Gloucestershire, Herefordshire, Worcestershire, Somersetshire,
Oxfordshire, Berkshire, Essex, Suffolk, Norfolk, and Hertford
shire : with Economical and Political Observations relative to
Matters applicable to, and illustrated by, the State of those Coun
ties respectively. — These rides were performed on horseback. If
the members of the Government had read them, only just read
them, last year, when they were collected and printed in a volume,
they could not have helped foreseeing all the violences that have
taken place, and especially in these very counties; and fore
seeing them, they must have been devils in reality if they had not
done something to prevent them. This is such a book as statesmen
ought to read.
POOP. MAN'S FB/K-DETD.
COBBETT'S POOR MAN'S FRIEND (Price 8d.) ; or, a De
fence of the Rights of those who do the Work and fight the Battles.
— This is my favourite work. I bestowed more labour upon it than
upon any large volume that I ever wrote. Here it is proved, that,
according to all laws, divine as well as human, uo one is to die
with hunger amidst an abundance of food.
COBBETT'S EMIGRANT'S GUIDE (Price 2s. 6rf.) ; in TEN
LETTERS addressed to the TAXPAYERS OF ENGLAND; containing
information of every kind, necessary to persons who are about to
emigrate ; including several authentic and most interesting letters
from English Emigrants, now in America, to then relations in
England; and an account of the prices of House and Land, recently
obtained from America by Mr. Cobbett. A New Edition. — Here
all the information is contained that any one going to the United
States of America can want, down to the most minute particulars ;
and here it is shown, that a man, who does not wish to be starved,
or to be a slave, ought not to emigrate to any other country.
COBBETT'S MANCHESTER LECTURES. This is a small
duodecimo volume (Price 2s. 6VZ.}, and it contains Six Lectures
that I delivered at Manchester itt the Winter of 1831. In these
Lectures I have gone fully into the state of the Country, and have
put forth what 1 deem the proper remedies for that state. I have
fully discussed the questions of Debt, Dead-Weight, Sinecures
LIST OF MR. COBRETT'S BOOKS. 9
and Pensions, Church, Crown Lands, Army and Navy, and I defy
all the doctors of political economy to answer me that book, it
contains a statement of the propositions which, please God, I mean
to make as a ground-work of relief to our country.
USURY X.AWS.
USURY LAWS (Price 3s. 6rf.) ; or LENDING AT INTEREST;
also, the Exaction and Payment of certain Church-fees, such as
Pew-rents, Burial-fees, and the like, together with forestalling
Traffic; all proved to be repugnant to the Divine and Ecclesiastical
Law, and destructive to Civil Society. To which is prefixed a
Narrative of the Controversy between the Author and Bishop Cop-
pinger, and of the sufferings of the former in consequence of his
Adherence to the Truth. By the Rev. JEREMIAH O'CALLAGHAN,
Roman Catholic Priest. With a DEDICATION to the " SOCIETY OK
FRIENDS," by WILLIAM COBBETT. — Every young man should read
this book, the history of which, besides the learned matter, is very
curious. The " JESUITS," as they call them, in Fiance, ought to
read this book ; and then tell the world how they can find the im
pudence to preach the Catholic Religion and to uphold the funding
system at the same time.
LEGACY TO Z,ABOITItEK,S,
Or, What is the Right which the Lords, Baronets, and 'Squires have
to possess the Land, or to make the Laws? In Six Letters, ad
dressed to the Working People of the whole Kingdom ; with a
Dedication to Sir Robert Peel. By WM. COBBETT, M.P. for
Oldham. Price, neatly bound, Sixteen-pence.
5. HISTORY.
PROTESTANT " SLEFOR.IVIATIOK'."
COBBETT'S HISTORY OF THE PROTESTANT REFORM
ATION in ENGLAND and IRELAND (Price 4s. 6d.} ; showing how
that Event has impoverished and degraded the main body of the
People in those Countries : in a Series of Letters, addressed to all
sensible and just Englishmen : also, PART II. (Price 3s. 6W.) ; con
taining: a List of the Abbeys, Priories, Nunneries, Hospitals, and
other Religious Foundations, in England and Wales, and in Ire
land, confiscated, seized on, or alienated, by the Protestant " Re
formation " Sovereigns and Parliaments. — There are two Edi
tions, one in Duodecimo and one in Royal Octavo, each in two
volumes. The last was printed on the notion that the rich Catholics
would like to have the work in a finer form. It was an error ; and
as it is better to sell books than to keep them, this fine edition is
sold for ten shillings; the small edition for 8s. This is the book
that has done the business of the Established Church! This book
has been translated into all the living languages, and there are
two Stereotype Editions of it in the United States of America. This
is the source whence are now pouring in the petitions for the aboli
tion of tithes!
10 LIST or MR. COBBETT'S BOOKS.
SLOTOACT HZSTOZtT.
COBIiETT'S ROMAN HISTORY (Price 6s.) ; VOL. I. in Ev-
CLISH and FRENCH, from the Foundation of Rome to the Battle
of Actium ; selected from the best Authors, ancient and modern,
with a series of Questions at the end of each chapter; for the use
of schools and youn^ persons in general. VoL.il. AN ABRIDGED
HISTORY oi' THE EMPERORS, in FRENCH and ENGLISH : being a
continuation of the HISTORY OF THE ROMAN REPUBLIC, published
by the same Authors, on the same plan, for the use of schools and
young persons in general. — This work is in French and English..
It is intended as an E.rercise-book, to be used with my French
Grammar; and it is sold at a vary low price, to place it within
the reach of young men in general. As a history it is edifying.
It is necessary for every man who has any pretensions to book-
knowledge, to know something of the history of that famous peo
ple; aud 1 think this is the best abridgment that ever was published.
As an Exercise- bonk it is complete, the translation being as literal
and simple as possible. It consists of two thick duodecimo volumes,
and is, therefore, as cheap as possible to avoid loss upon mere paper
and print; but 1 wish it to be within the reach of great numbers of
young men.
I.IPE3 OP ATffB25.EW JACIKSOST.
HISTORY OF THE LIFE OF ANDREW JACKSON, PRE
SIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA, from
his Birth, in 1/67, to the present time ; with a Portrait. Abridged
and compiled by WILLIAM COBBETT, M.P. for Oldhaua. Price
3s, bds.
ATfiTJO XtSX&N OS1 GSOB.C-B IV.-
COBBETT'S HISTORY OF THE REGENCY AND REIGN
OF GEORGE IV.— This work is published in Nos. at 6«7. each ;
and it does justice to the late " mild and merciful" King.
Price, in boards, 10s. 6d.
LAFAYETTE'S LIFE. (Prire Is.} A brief Account of the Life
of that brave and honest man, translated from the French, by Mr.
JAMES COBBETT.
6. TRAVELS.
F3&OZVX
MR. JOHN COBBETT'S LETTERS FROM FRANCE (Price
4s. 6rf.) ; containing Observations on that Country during a Jour
ney from Calais to the South, as far as Limoges ; then back to
Paris; and then, after a Residence, from the Eastern parts of
France, and through part of the Netherlands ; commencing m
April, and ending in December, Ib24.
MR. JAMES COBBETT'S RIDE OF EIGHT HUNDRED
MILES IN FRANCE (the Third Edition, Price 2s. 6d.\ ; contain
ing a Sketch of the Face of the Country, of its Rural Economy, of
the Towns and Villages, of Manufacturers and Trade, and of such ot
LIST OF MR. COBBETT'S BOOKS. 11
the Manners and Customs as materially differ from those of Eng
land ; also, an Account of the Prices of Land, House, Fuel, Food,
Raiment, Labour, and other Tilings, in different parts of the Coun
try ; the design being to exhibit a true Picture of the present State
of the People of France ; to which is added, a General View of the
Finances of the Kingdom.
TOTTB. S3T ITA1.Y.
MR. JAMES COB BEIT'S TOUR IN ITALY, and also in
Part of FRANCE and SWITZERLAND (Price 4s. G</.) ; tho
Route being from Paris through Lyons, to Marseilles, and thence
to Nice, Genoa, Pisa, Florence, Rome, Naples, and Mount Vesu
vius ; and by Rome, Terui, Perugia, Arezzo, Florence, Bologna,
Ferrara, Padua, Venice, Verona, Milan, over the Alp? by Mount
St. Bernard, Geneva, and the Jura, back into France. The space
of time being from October 1821 to September 182!); containing
a Description of the Country, of the principal Cities and their most
striking Curiosities; of the Climate, Soil, Agriculture, Horticul
ture, and Products ; of the Prices of Provisions and of Labour ;
and of the Dresses and Conditions of the People. And also some
Account of the Laws and Customs, Civil ami Religious, and of the
Morals and Demeanor of tbe Inhabitants in the several States.
TOUR. 1ST SCOTE.ASI3.
TOUR IN SCOTLAND by Mr. COBOEIT : the tour taken in the
autumn of 1832, and the book written during the tour. It is a
small duodecimo volume, the price of which is two shillings and
sixpence. _
7. LAW.
XHTJLltTEK'S'S ;E,.fc.W OP TJATXONS.
COBBETT'S TRANSLATION OF MARTENS'S LAW OF
NATIONS (Price 17s.) ; being the Science of National Law,
Covenants, Power, &c. Founded upon the Treaties and Customs
of Modern Nations in Europe. By G. F. VON MARTENS, Professor
of Public Law in the University of Gottingen. Translated from
the French, by WM. COBBETT. To which is added, a List of the
Principal Treaties, Declarations, and other Public Papers, from
the Year 1731 to 1738, by the Author; and continued by the
Translator down to November 1815. (The Fourth Edition.) — This
is a large Octavo. It was one of my first literary labours. An
excellent Common- Place Book to the Law of Nations.
THE X..A.W OF TimTTPIXES.
MR. WM. COBBETT'SLAW OF TURNPIKES (Price 3s. 6rf.) :
or, an Analytical Arrangement of, and Illustrative Comments on,
all the General Acts relative to the Turnpike Roads of England ;
the whole being in Answer to the following Questions : — 1st. What
are the General Acts now in Force ? 2nd. What is the Extent of
them 1 3rd. How do they affect every Turnpike Road 1 By WM.
COBBETT, Junior. — Never was anything more neatly arranged, or
more clearly explained in few words. Jf every Magistrate had it,
blundering decisions it would prevent !
'hut bl
8. MISCELLANEOUS POLITICS.
TH7U ZUECrSSTESt*
THE REGISTER, published Weekly, Price ls.2d. 64 pages.
COLLECTIVE COMMEETTATLZES.
COBBETT'S COLLECTIVE COMMENTARIES : or, Re
marks on the Proceedings in the Collective Wisdom of the Nation,
during- the Session which began on the 5th of February, and
ended on the 6'th of August, in the 3rd year of the Reign of King
George the Fourth, and in the year of o'ur Lord 1822 ; being the
Third Session of the First Parliament of that King. To which
are subjoined, a complete List of the Acts passed during; the
Session, with Elucidations; and other Notices and Matters;
forming, altogether, a short but clear History of the Collective
V, isuoni for ti,e year. This is an octavo book, and the price is 6s.
TWO-PEM-mr T31.&SH-
TWO-PENNY TRASH, complete in two vols., 12mo.
Price only 3*. for the 2 vols.
This is the Library that I have created. It really makes
a tolerable shelf of books ; a man who understands the
contents of which, may be deemed a man of great informa
tion. In about every one of these works I have pleaded the
cause of the working people ; and I shall now see that cause
triumph, in spite of all that can be done to prevent it.
The following Works will also shortly be published :
XR.ZSH TOT7ZL.
jPr^OTSSTAItfT CHURCH.
A HISTORY OF THE RISE AND PROGRESS OF THE
PROTESTANT CHURCH; being a Sequel to the " History of
the Protestant Reformation." By WILLIAM COBBETT, M.P.
In One Volume, duodecimo,
THE POOF* IKCASPS lilBX/Ei
A collection of Extracts from the Bible relating to the rights of
and the duties of the poor ; together with explanations aud ob
servations by Mr. COBBETT. This will form a small volume,
handy for those who are interested on either side.
Now in the Press,
A. IiATXW CSXAIYIIttAIl.
A LATIN GRAMMAR, by Mr. JAMES COBBETT.
Printed by \Vm. Cobbett, Johnson's-court, Fleet-street.
14 DAY USE
RETURN TO DESK FROM WHICH BORROWED
LOAN DEPT.
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