III. Our agricultural implements and machinery grow annually more effective, and at the same time more costly. The outfit of a good farm costs five-fold what it did forty years ago. The farmer makes and secures his Hay far more rapidly and effectively than his father did, but pays far more for Reapers, Mowers, Rakers, etc.; in other words, he makes Winter work abridge that of Summer—makes a hundred days' work in some village or city save thrice as many days' work on his farm. This enhances his profits, but swells our urban, while it diminishes our rural population.
IV. Much has been said of the degeneracy and increasing sterility of the New England Puritan stock. All this is shallow and absurd. There never before were so many people who proudly traced their origin to a New England ancestry as now. What is true in the premises is this: The New England stock is becoming very widely diffused, and is giving place, to a considerable extent, to other elements in its original home. Forty years ago, at least seven-eighths of the inhabitants of Boston were of New England birth and lineage; now, hardly half are so. The descendants of the Pilgrims are scattered all over our wide country; while hundreds of thousands have flowed in from Ireland, from Germany, from Canada, to fill the places thus relinquished; and, since most of the immigrants, whether into or out of New England, seek their future homes in the spring-time of life, their children are mainly born to them after rather than before their migration. The Yankees have no fewer children than formerly; but they are now born in Minnesota, in Illinois, in Kansas; while those born in New England are, for identical reasons, in large proportion of Irish or of Canadian parentage. There are New England townships, whereof most of the heads of families are long past the prime of life; their children having left them for more attractive localities, and the work on their farms being now done mainly by foreign-born employés. As a general rule, the boys first wandered off; leaving the girls only the alternative of following, or dying in maidenhood. Marked diversities of race, of creed, and of education, have thus far prevented any considerable intermingling of the Yankee with the foreign element by marriage. And what is true of New England is measurably true of our own State.
I have not intended by these observations to combat the assumption that our people too generally prefer other employments to farming. The obstacles to effective modern Agriculture—that is, to agriculture prosecuted by the help of efficient machinery—presented by that incessant alternation of rock and bog, which characterizes New England and some parts of New York, I have already noted; and they interpose a serious, discouraging impediment to agricultural progress. A farm intersected by two or three swamps and brooks, separated by steep, rocky, ridges, and dotted over with pebbly knolls, sometimes giving place to a strip of sterile sand, is far more repulsive to the capable, intelligent farmer of to-day than it was to his grandfather. So far as my observation extends, there are more New England farms on which you cannot, than on which you can, find ten acres in one unbroken area suitable for planting to Corn, or sowing to Winter Grain. Hence, Agriculture in the East will always seem petty and irregular when brought into contrast with the prairie cultivation of the West. Grain can never be grown here so cheaply nor so abundantly as there; while the tendency of our pastures to cover themselves over with moss and worthless shrubs, unless frequently broken up and reseeded, makes even dairying more difficult and costly in New England and along its western border than in almost any other part of our country.
Yet, these discouragements are balanced by compensations. Timber springs luxuriantly and grows rapidly throughout this region; while our harsh, capricious climate gives to our Hickory, White Oak, White Ash, and other varieties, qualities unknown to such grown elsewhere, while prized everywhere. Apples, and most fruits of the Temperate Zone, do well with us; while our cities and manufacturing villages proffer most capacious markets. Potatoes and other edible roots produce liberally, and generally command good prices. Hay sells for $12 to $30 per ton, is easily grown, and is in eager and increasing demand. We ought to produce twice our present crop from the same area, and have need of every pound of it; for neither our cattle nor our sheep are nearly so numerous nor so well fed as they should be. In short, there is money to be made, by those who have means and know how, by buying New England farms, tilling them better, and growing much larger crops than their present occupants have done. There are many who can do better in the West; but the right men can still make money by farming this side of the Susquehanna and the Genesee; and I would gladly incite some thousands more of them to try.
XLIX.
LARGE AND SMALL FARMS.
There is fascination for most minds in naked magnitude. The young colonel, who can hardly handle a brigade effectively in battle, would like of all things to command a great army; and the tiller of fifty rugged acres has his ravishing dreams of the delights inherent in a great Western farm, with its square miles of corn-fields, and its thousands of cattle. Each of them is partly right and partly wrong.
There are generals capable of commanding 100,000 men, Napoleon says there were two such in his day—himself and another: and these generally find the work they are fit for, without special effort or aspiration. So there are men, each of whom can really farm a township, not merely let a herd of cattle roam over it unfed and unsheltered, living and dying as may chance: the owners expecting to grow rich by their natural increase. This ranching is not properly farming at all, but a very different and far ruder art. I judge that the farmers who can really till—or even graze—several thousand acres of land, so as to realize a fair interest on its value, are even scarcer than the farms so capacious.
But there is such a thing as farming on a large scale; and it is a good business for those who understand it, and have all the means it requires. The farmer who annually grows a thousand acres of good Grain, and takes reasonable care of a thousand head of Cattle, is to be held in all honor. He will usually grow both his Grain and his Beef cheaper than a small farmer could do it, and will generally find a good balance on the right side when he makes up and squares his accounts of a year's operations. I could recommend no man to run into debt for a great farm, expecting that farm to work him out of it but he who inherited or has acquired a large farm, well stocked, and knows how to make it pay, may well cling to it, and count himself fortunate in its possession. But the great farmer is already regarded with sufficient envy. Most boys would gladly be such as he is; the difficulty in the case is that they lack the energy, persistency, resolution, and self-denial, requisite for its achievement.