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 BOOK 309. 173.C636Y c. 1 
 COBBETT # YEARS RESIDENCE IN 
 AMERICA 
 
 3 T153 00077553 A 
 
THE ABBEY CLASSICS— V 
 
 WILLIAM COBBETT 
 
 A YEARS RESIDENCE IN 
 AMERICA 
 
Published hySM/ILLMrtYtVlRD SCOMJ^MYMc 
 __ at -&lAfount\ernon Street, Boston , J^fass. 
 
x.- v O 
 
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 Made in Great Britain. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 Introduction 
 
 General Preface to the Three Parts 
 
 Page 
 ix 
 
 xvii 
 
 PART I 
 
 Chap. I. Description of the Situation and Extent 
 of Long Island, and also of the Face 
 of the Country, and an Account of 
 the Climate, Seasons, and Soil 
 
 II. Ruta Baga. Culture, Mode of pre- 
 serving, and Uses of the Ruta Baga, 
 sometimes called the Russia, and 
 sometimes the Swedish, Turnip 
 
 40 
 
 Dedication 
 
 Preface 
 
 Chap. 
 
 III. 
 
 IV. 
 
 V. 
 
 VI. 
 
 VII. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 IX. 
 
 X. 
 XI. 
 
 *> 
 
 o* 
 
 PART II 
 
 Experiments as to Cabbages 
 Earth-burning . 
 Transplanting Indian Corn . 
 Swedish Turnips 
 Potatoes .... 
 Cows, Sheep, Hogs, and Poultry 
 Prices of Land, Labour, Food and 
 
 Raiment .... 
 Expences of Housekeeping . 
 Manners, Customs, and Character 
 
 of the People . 
 
 83 
 85 
 
 §9 
 
 101 
 106 
 
 in 
 122 
 
 134 
 
 141 
 146 
 
 153 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 Page 
 Chap. XII. Rural Sports . . . .162 
 
 XIII. Paupers .... 168 
 
 XIV. Government, Laws, and Religion . 173 
 
 PART III 
 
 Dedication ....... 195 
 
 Preface ........ 197 
 
 Mr. Hulme's Introduction to his Journal . . 199 
 
 Mr. Hulme's Journal, made during a Tour in the 
 Western Countries of America, in which Tour he 
 visited Mr. Birkbeck's Settlement . . . 205 
 
 Mr. Cobbett's Letters to Mr. Birkbeck, remon- 
 strating with that Gentleman on the numerous 
 delusions, contained in his two publications, 
 entitled " Notes on a Journey in America " and 
 " Letters from Illinois " . . . . 235 
 
 Postscript, being the detail of an experiment made 
 
 in the cultivation of the Ruta Baga . . .270 
 
 Second Postscript, a Refutation of Fearon's False- 
 hoods ........ 272 
 
PART I 
 
I 
 
 A sort of spy, as Cobbett called him, Henry Bradshaw Fearon, 
 an English radical, who called on Cobbett at his farm at Hyde 
 Park, twenty miles from New York, gave a sketch of " this well- 
 known character," his host : 
 
 "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 My impressions of Mr. Cobbett are, 
 
 that those who know him would like him if they can be 
 content to submit unconditionally to his dictation. ' Obey 
 me and I will treat you kindly ; if you do not, I will 
 trample on you,' seemed visible in every word and feature. 
 He appears to feel, in its fullest force the sentiment : 
 
 I have no brother, am like no brother : 
 I am myself alone." 
 
 Fearon had published a volume called Sketches in America, and 
 in his relation of this visit to Cobbett he included a report of certain 
 reflections attributed to his host and likely to give offence to 
 Americans. These reflections, and Cobbett's ferocious repudia- 
 tion, are to be found in the second postscript to Part III of the 
 present volume ; but you will not find there any repudiation of 
 this excellent brief sketch. Cobbett, it may be surmised, was 
 not displeased with it, and indeed it is perfectly consistent not 
 simply with the many portraits and cartoons which mirror the 
 outward man, but also with the inward man presented so fully, 
 so freshly, so garrulously in Cobbett's own books. ' A blade 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,' is his scornful sketch of poor 
 Fearon ; truly a harsh return for the amiable portrait drawn by 
 the young Radical author. 
 
INTRODUCTION 
 
 ii 
 
 I 
 
 Cobbett's residence in America, fron-11817 to 1819, which forms 
 the subject of the present volume, was not his first sojourn in the 
 western hemisphere. He had served in the British Army in New 
 Brunswick and returned with his regiment in 1791 ; and after 
 his discharge, made grave allegations of corruption against certain 
 officers of his late regiment. Fearing an unequal trial and per- 
 sonal danger, he had fled from England when a court-martial was 
 about to investigate his charges, and from 1792 to 1800 he lived 
 in the United States, practising there that free and furious in- 
 vective which was a main element of his controversial method, 
 and only leaving when he was nearly ruined by the damages 
 awarded against him for libel. The noise of his contention was 
 heard across the Atlantic, and when he landed at Falmouth in the 
 summer of 1800, he found himself poor and famous. Windham 
 soon acclaimed him as a man who by his unaided exertions had 
 rendered his country services that entitled him to a statue of gold, 
 and encouraged him in the foundation of the notorious Political 
 Register, which shortly proved to be a deep well of money for its 
 energetic owner. But not many years elapsed before Cobbett's 
 inconstancy betrayed itself, although without betraying his 
 honesty ; his political opinions changed until the Tory was lost 
 in the Radical. The simple truth was that he could not endure 
 to give continuous approval to any man or party, and was naturally 
 in opposition and naturally the champion of the weaker many, 
 though never of a hopeless minority. He found it possible to 
 vary the life of a pamphleteer with the life of a farmer, having 
 bought (in 1805) a farm at Botley in Hampshire, and spending 
 lavishly there the money won by his popular journalism. " A 
 born agitator" would be our ready phrase for a Cobbett of to-day, 
 if we chose to forget how much more than an agitator was the 
 author of this volume. He preserved a certain caution in his 
 political work until the Peninsular war sharpened his animosity 
 to the government. That animosity was violently expressed, 
 but the government, that both hated and feared him, found no 
 very plausible occasion for a prosecution until 1809, when he 
 became infuriated on hearing of the flogging of English Militia 
 by German troops : 
 
 "The mutiny among the local militia which broke out at 
 Ely, was fortunately suppressed on Wednesday by the 
 arrival of four squadrons of the German Legion Cavalry 
 from Bury, under the command of General Auckland. 
 Five of the ring-leaders were tried by court-martial, and 
 sentenced to receive five hundred lashes each, part of which 
 punishment they received on Wednesday, and a part was 
 
INTRODUCTION 
 
 remitted. A stoppage for their knapsacks was the ground 
 of complaint that excited this mutinous spirit, which 
 occasioned the men to surround their officers, and demand 
 what they deemed their arrears. The first division of the 
 German Legion halted yesterday at Newmarket on their 
 return to Bury." 
 
 Cobbett commented on this in his Register with such quick and 
 honourable anger, such intense contempt for wanton authority, 
 that action was tardily taken against him. His defence was far 
 less gallant and effective than his attack had been ; he was con- 
 victed, condemned to two years' imprisonment, to pay a fine of a 
 thousand pounds, and at the end of his imprisonment to give 
 heavy bail and find sureties for his keeping the peace for seven 
 years. Prison life in Newgate, mitigated as it was by means, 
 industry and the kindness of friends, was a sore experience, and 
 it is wonderful that the violent- minded victim was not more 
 embittered than his subsequent writings reveal. 
 
 On his release from prison in 1812, Cobbett was entertained 
 like a martyr restored from the flames. He had maintained an 
 incredible literary activity during his two years' imprisonment ; 
 he boasted of it with characteristic self-satisfaction — most 
 lengthily and amusingly in his Advice to Young Men — and now 
 he emerged once more into the sun of men's attention. His 
 mind was flattered and quickened. The bond for seven years' 
 keeping the peace restrained his ardour, but he could not be 
 pacific in the face of tyranny, nor timid at the sight of power ; 
 and he soon began moving about the country (much in the way of 
 his more famous Rural Rides which followed, in 1821, his second 
 return from the United States), and addressing an exasperated 
 and expectant people. His boldness and readiness in public 
 controversy are amusing, and it was in one of his meetings with 
 county freeholders that he dealt thus with an opponent : 
 
 " I fixed my eye upon him, and pointing my hand down- 
 right, and making a sort of chastising motion, said ' Peace, 
 babbling slave ! ' which produced such terror amongst 
 others, that I met with no more interruption." 
 
 A result of these journeys was the revived prosperity of the 
 Register and, in 1816, the issue of a twopenny edition (Cobbett's 
 Tzvopenny Trash) for the enlightenment of the masses. 
 
 Parliament was now the enemy against which his most powerful 
 blows were aimed. The cause of the present discontents he 
 asserted was the taxes, and this intolerable taxation proceeded 
 in turn from the want of Parliamentary Reform. At the time of 
 the Luddite agitation he deprecated violence, and was candid 
 enough to tell his audience that there was no solid objection to 
 the use of machinery ; machines distinguished the civil from the 
 
INTRODUCTION 
 
 savage man, and the abolition of machinery would make life 
 impossible. But notwithstanding such moderate counsels his 
 position as champion of the labourers of England was a dangerous 
 one ; for his followers were excitable and desperate. At the end 
 of 1816, when rioting began in London, in the boldness of panic 
 the government passed several emergency statutes, including one 
 suspending the Habeas Corpus Act. Cobbett's seven years of 
 pledged good behaviour had not yet expired, and under this new 
 and ominous power he could be thrown into prison at the whim 
 of any timid or ambitious underling ; and since his plain courage 
 was always dashed with prudence, early in 18 17 he once more 
 fled from England, writing in a farewell to his readers from 
 Liverpool : 
 
 " I have no desire to write libels. I have written none 
 here. Lord Sidmouth was ' sorry to say ' that I had not 
 written anything that the Law Officers could prosecute 
 with any chance of success. I do not remove for the pur- 
 pose of writing libels, but for the purpose of being able to 
 write what is not libellous. I do not retire from a combat 
 with the Attorney- General but from a combat with a 
 dungeon, deprived of pen, ink, and paper. A combat with 
 the Attorney-General is quite unequal enough. That, 
 however, I would have encountered. I know too well 
 what a trial by Special Jury is. Yet that, or any sort of 
 trial, I would have stayed to face. So that I could have 
 been sure of a trial, of whatever sort, I would have run the 
 risk. But against the absolute power of imprisonment, 
 without even a hearing, for time unlimited, in any jail in 
 the kingdom, without the use of pen, ink, and paper, and 
 without any communication with any soul but the keepers 
 — against such a power it would have been worse than 
 madness to attempt to strive." 
 
 It was no mere voluble demagogue who declared : 
 
 " I will never become a Subject or a Citizen in any other 
 state, and will always be a foreigner in every country but 
 England. Any foible that may belong to your character 
 I shall always willingly allow to belong to my own. And 
 the celebrity which my writings have obtained, and which 
 they will preserve, long and long after Lords Liverpool 
 and Sidmouth and Castlereagh are rotten and forgotten, 
 I owe less to my own talents than to that discernment and 
 that noble spirit in you, which have at once instructed 
 my mind and warmed my heart : and my beloved country- 
 men, be you well assured, that the last beatings of that 
 heart will be love for the people, for the happiness and the 
 renown of England ; and hatred of their corrupt, hypo- 
 critical, dastardly and merciless fees." 
 
INTRODUCTION 
 
 Perhaps, as his biographers have suggested, his departure was 
 quickened by financial troubles. The Quarterly Review said 
 that he " fled from his creditors. That he should do this was 
 perfectly natural ; the thing to be admired is, that such a man 
 should have creditors to flee from." But clearly it was not only 
 his debts that urged his flight. 
 
 He had left America, in 1800, a Tory, an anti-democrat ; but 
 now, in 18 17, he returned a Radical, smarting and denouncing 
 the institutions and the masters of his native country. Often in 
 the Register, which he still directed and contributed to during 
 his exile, and in the following pages, he contrasted the maleficence 
 of the English system with the freedom of the American — the 
 freedom of speech and the press, the lightness of the taxes, the 
 independence of the people : 
 
 " To see a free country for once, and to see every labourer 
 with plenty to eat and drink ! Think of that I And never 
 to see the hang-dog face of a tax-gatherer. Think of 
 that ! No Alien Acts here ! No long-sworded and 
 whiskered Captains. No Judges escorted from town to 
 town and sitting under the guard of dragoons. No packed 
 juries of tenants. No Crosses. No Bolton Fletchers. No 
 hangings and rippings up. No Castleses and Olivers. 
 No Stewarts and Perries. No Cannings, Liverpools, 
 Castlereaghs, Eldons, Ellenboroughs or Sidmouths. No 
 Bankers. No Squeaking Wynnes. No Wilberforces . 
 Think of that. No Wilberforces ! " 
 
 Though he speaks with the tongue of men and of stern angels, 
 humour is still heard ; there is still an enjoyment of his own 
 phrase, a satisfaction in his own grotesque imaginations. 
 
 He had found himself forgotten when he arrived in America, 
 and acquiesced in this unusual experience, occupying himself 
 with the purchase and cultivation of his farm, and planning 
 and writing, among other books, the enormously popular English 
 Grammar. His family and other letters from America are pleasant 
 enough in their hints of rural felicity only half complete ; it is 
 described more freely in the present volume, which does not 
 afford an orderly narrative of the seasons of the year and the 
 labours of an unambitious man, but rather the chaotic energies, 
 the diversions, humours and passions of a man who sought to 
 live many lives at once. 
 
 Cobbett was not able to stay long in quietness. His house and 
 much of his property were destroyed by fire in 1819, and this 
 disaster turned his thoughts homeward again. The suspension 
 of the Habeas Corpus Act had not been renewed, and the prospect 
 of liberty in his native country seemed fair. Bearing the bones 
 of Tom Paine he left America in the autumn of 181 9, and landed 
 in Liverpool with the precious relics in his proud possession. 
 
INTRODUCTION 
 
 " Great indeed," he exclaimed to a wondering assembly, *" great 
 indeed must that man have been, whose very bones attract such 
 attention." Armed with the bones Cobbett passed like a Prince 
 through a country torn with faction — here welcomed, there 
 repulsed, and always self-delighted. He was once again in 
 England, and happy. 
 
 Ill 
 
 A Year's Residence in America is a favourite book among the 
 growing body of admirers of William Cobbett, mainly because 
 it is so pleasant in its autobiography. Did George Borrow learn 
 from him that trick of displaying, enlarging, and discoursing upon 
 his prejudices and opinions, which is so characteristic of both ? 
 A Year's Residence is full of Cobbett — the homely man, the 
 romantic, the satirical, the eloquent, the curt. Pigs lead him to 
 Rousseau ; that scurvy root, the potato, is involved with a 
 denunciation of Shakespeare and Milton ; parsons like placemen 
 are distinguished by his scorn ; Arthur Young is but a religious 
 fanatic, bribed by £500 a year ; and Bentham becomes little Mr. 
 Jerry Bentham, an everlasting babbler. He pleases himself with 
 the praise of American hospitality, regretting that it had died in 
 England under the extortion of the tax-gatherer, and still more 
 delights himself with the beauty of American women. But his 
 heart is still in England : " England is my country and to England 
 I shall return. I like it best " ; to which country, he says " I 
 always have 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 gratification of all private 
 pleasure and emoluments." 
 
 Near the close of his life he said, " I suppose that no one has 
 ever passed a happier life than I have done." That, after all, is 
 his chief recommendation to the kindness of posterity, and the 
 chief virtue of A Year's Residence in America — the transparent 
 happiness of the author. And since I began with a portrait by 
 Fearon, I should like to end with another by Hazlitt, who admired 
 him as only Hazlitt can admire — with accordant praise and blame 
 in a resounding and perfect antiphony : 
 
 " The only time I ever saw him he seemed to me a very 
 pleasant man : easy of access, affable, clear-headed, simple 
 and mild in his manner, deliberate and unruffled in his 
 speech, though some of his expressions were not ;very 
 qualified. His figure is tall and portly : he has a good 
 sensible face, rather full, with little grey eyes, a hard, 
 square forehead, a ruddy complexion, with hair grey or 
 powdered : and had on a scarlet broad-cloth waistcoat, 
 
INTRODUCTION 
 
 with the flaps of the pockets hanging down, as was the 
 custom for gentlemen-farmers in the last century, or as we 
 see it in the picture of Members of Parliament in the reign 
 of George I. I certainly did not think less favourably 
 of him for seeing him." 
 
 JOHN FREEMAN. 
 
Q6NSRAL TR6FAC8 
 
 TO THE 
 
 THR86 TARTS 
 
 i. Throughout the whole of this work it is my intention to 
 number the paragraphs, from one end to the other of each Part. 
 This renders the business of reference more easy than it can be 
 rendered by any mode in my power to find out ; and, easy re- 
 ference saves a great deal of paper and print, and also, which 
 ought to be more valuable a great deal of time, of which an in- 
 dustrious man has never any to spare. To desire the reader to 
 look at paragraph such a number of such a part, will frequently, 
 as he will find, save him both money and labour ; for, without 
 this power of reference, the paragraph, or the substance of it, 
 would demand being repeated in the place where the reference 
 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 
 to farm in, I have never yet observed one that conveyed to English- 
 men anything like a correct 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 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 know and what I 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. 
 
GENERAL PREFACE 
 
 In the course of the three parts, of which this work will consist, 
 each part making a small volume, every thing which appears to 
 me useful to persons intending to come to this country shall be 
 communicated ; but, more especially that which may be useful 
 to farmers ; because, as to such matters, I have ample experience. 
 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 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, unaccompanied with actual experi- 
 mental 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 before-hand. 
 
 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 infancy, 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 smock-frock (or hunting- 
 shirt) , I 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 
 Pennsylvania, in 1806, and some of which are now nearly forty 
 
 xviii 
 
GENERAL PREFACE 
 
 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 to farming, I was bred at the plough-tail, 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 become 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 pursuits 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 JetiiRO Tull, to 
 the principles of whom I owe more than to all my other reading 
 and all my experience, and of 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 
 dov/n in writing nothing but what is strictly true. I myself am 
 
 * Sentenced 9 July, 1810, to pay a fine of £l,C00; to be imprisoned 
 2 years in Newgate Gaol, and at expiration of that time to enter 
 into a Kecognizance to keep the peace for 7 years— himself in the 
 sum of £3,000, and two sureties in £1,000 each. 
 
GENERAL PREFACE 
 
 bound to England for life. My notions of allegiance to country ; 
 my great and anxious desire to assist in the restoration of her 
 freedom 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 themselves. 
 
 Wm. COBBETT. 
 
 North Hempstedy Long Island, 
 z\st April, 1818. 
 
*A TSARS 'R6SID6NCS 
 IN AMERICA 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Description of the Situation and Extent of Long Island, and also of 
 the Face of the Country, and an Account of the Climate, Seasons, 
 and Soil. 
 
 1 1 . 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 
 Boston 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 good 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 I can speak 
 positively only of the very spot, at which I have resided. But 
 this is a matter of very little consequence ; seeing that every part 
 has its seasons first or last. All the difference 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. 
 
CLIMATE, SEASONS, ETC. 
 
 12. The situation of Long Island is this : It is about 130 miles 
 long. It extends in length from the Bay of the City of New 
 York to within a short distance of the State of Rhode 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 nearest 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 further 
 up ; and all the rest is the county of Suffolk. These counties are 
 divided into townships. And, the municipal government of 
 Justices of the Peace, Sheriffs, Constables, &c. is in nearly the 
 English way, with such differences as I 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 Island. At 
 the place where I live, which is in Queen's county, and very nearly 
 the middle of the Island, crosswise, we have no water, except in a 
 well seventy feet deep, and from the clouds ; yet, we never ex- 
 perience 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 ; but in England, 
 they would be called lakes, from their extent as well as from their 
 depth. These, with the various trees which surround them, are 
 very beautiful indeed. 
 
 15. The farms 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 I 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 60 feet high) ; more than fifty sorts of Oaks ; and 
 many other trees, but especially the Flowering Locust, or Acacia, 
 
CLIMATE, SEASONS, ETC. 
 
 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 well as of apples and 
 'pears. Of the cultivation and crops of these, I shall speak in 
 another Part of the work. 
 
 1 6. There is one great draw-back to all these beauties, namely, 
 the fences ; and, indeed, there is another with us South-of- 
 England people, namely, the general (for there are many ex- 
 ceptions) slovenliness about the homesteads, and particularly 
 about the dwellings of labourers. Mr. Birkbeck complains of 
 this ; and, indeed, 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 first 
 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 
 another 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, 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, all 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 ; instead 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 attention is 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 endeavour- 
 ing 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 to 
 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 
 
CLIMATE, SEASONS, ETC. 
 
 verdure. Yet the state of things in June, is, as to crops, and 
 fruits, much about what it is in England ; for, when things do 
 begin to grow, they grow indeed ; and the general harvest for 
 grain (what we call corn) is a full month earlier than in the South 
 of England ! 
 
 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 I 
 come to treat of rny own actual experience of it. I do not like, 
 in these cases, general descriptions, Indeed, they must be very 
 imperfect ; and, therefore, I will just give a copy of a journal, 
 kept by myself, from the 5th of May, 1817, to the 20th of April, 
 1 8 18. This, it appears to me, is the best way of proceeding ; for, 
 then, there can be no deception ; 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 May 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 warm 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. 
 
 1 1 . 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 evening air. 
 
 15. Warm and fair. The farmers are beginning to 
 plant their Indian Corn. 
 
 16. Dry wind, warm in the sun. Cherry trees begin 
 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 English 
 April morning, that is to say, a sharp April morning, 
 and a June day. 
 
 18. Warm and fine. Grass pushes on. Saw some 
 Lucerne in a warm spot, 8 inches high. 
 
 19. Rain all day. Grass grows apace. People plant 
 potatoes. 
 
CLIMATE, SEASONS, ETC, 
 
 1817. 
 
 May 20. Fine and warm. A good cow sells, with a calf by 
 her side, for 45 dollars. A steer, two years old, 20 
 dollars. A working ox, five years old, 40 dollars. 
 
 21. Fine and warm day ; but the morning and evening 
 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 kidney- 
 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 fires in par- 
 lours now, except now-and-then in the mornings 
 and evenings. 
 
 30. Fine and warm. — Apples have dropped their blos- 
 soms. 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. 
 
 3 1 . 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 tender 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 Locusts begin to look greenish. 
 
 3. Fine and warm. — The Indian Corn is generally 
 come up ; but looks yellow in consequence of the 
 cold 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 Corn, 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, consists of an ear, which 
 
CLIMATE, SEASONS, ETC. 
 
 1817. 
 
 June 3 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 a foot long ; and I have seen many, each of 
 which weighed more than eighteen ounces, avoir- 
 dupois 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 1 8 17) when I had just read, in the Courier 
 English news-paper, 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 y 
 which, as the newspaper told us, had well-nigh 
 choaked 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, " 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 tp him, that it 
 must have been wheat or barley. 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, in the whole ear. The 
 two former thresh for themselves, and 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 men- 
 tioned ? Besides, the Indian Corn is a native of 
 Palestine. The French, who, doubtless, brought it 
 originally from the Levant, call it Turkish Corn. 
 The Locusts, that John the Baptist lived on, were not 
 6 
 
CLIMATE, SEASONS, ETC. 
 
 1817. 
 
 June 3. (as I used to wonder at when a boy) the noxious 
 vermin that devoured the land of Egypt; butthebean, 
 which comes in the long pods borne by the three- 
 thorned Locust-tree, and of which I have an abun- 
 dance 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 surprizingly. 
 
 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 
 Flowering Locust only begins to show leaf. It will 
 by and by, make up, by its beauty, for its shyness, 
 at present. 
 
 10. Fine waim day. The cattle are up to their eyes in 
 grass. 
 
 11. 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, 
 -z\ feet high. 
 
 14. Fine and hot ; but, we have always a breeze when 
 it is hot, which I did not formerly find in Pennsyl- 
 vania. This arises, I suppose, from our nearness 
 to the sea. 
 
 15. Rain all day. 
 
 16. Fine, beautiful day. Never saw such fine weather. 
 Not a morsel of dirt. The ground sucks up all. 
 I walk about and work in the land in shoes made of 
 deer-skin. They are dressed white, like breeches- 
 leather. I 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. 
 
 18. Fine day. Green peas fit to gather in pretty early 
 gardens, though only of the common hotspur sort. 
 Mayduke cherries begin to be ripe. 
 
 7 
 
CLIMATE, SEASONS, ETC. 
 
 1817. 
 
 June 19. Fine day. But, now comes my alarm ! The 
 musquitoes, 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 water, 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 follow 
 fresh meat and fish. Have neither, or be very care- 
 ful. 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 3? 
 
 and 4th instant, all up, and in rough leaf ! Onions 
 up. The whole garden green in 18 days from the 
 sowing. 
 
 21. 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. 
 
 30. Rain all night. People are planting out their cab- 
 bages for the winter crop. 
 
 July 1. Fine day. Bought 20 bushels of English salt for 
 half a dollar a bushel. 
 
 2. Fine day. 
 
 3. Fine day. 
 
 4. Fine day. Carrots, sown 3rd June, 3 inches high. 
 
 5. Very hot day. No flies yet. 
 
 6. Fine hot day. Currants ripe. Oats in haw. Rye 
 nearly ripe. Indian corn two feet high. Hay- 
 making 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 Pindar. 
 
 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 
 8 
 
CLIMATE, SEASONS, ETC. 
 
 1817. 
 
 July 10. very little inconvenient affair. Shoes, trowsers, 
 shirt and hat. No plague of dressing and un- 
 dressing 1 
 
 11. 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, ail 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. No flies yet ! 
 JVo musquitoes ! 
 
 13. Hot and heavy, like the pleading of a quarter- 
 sessions lawyer. No breeze to-day, which is rarely 
 the case. 
 
 14. Fine day. The Indian corn four feet high. 
 
 15. Fine day. We eat turnips sown on the second of 
 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 1 
 
 18. Fine hot day. 
 
 19. 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 Pennyslvania, says 
 they are as great torments there as ever. At a 
 friend's house (a farm house) there, two quarts of 
 fties were caught in one window in one day I 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. I 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 fish. 
 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. 
 
CLIMATE, SEASONS, ETC. 
 
 1817. 
 
 July 24. 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, some- 
 times 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 stacks would be 
 mere heaps of muck by January, if they were not, 
 long and long before that time, carried clean of 
 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 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 cannot make out. I used to be 
 puzzled, 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 untied, 
 laid upon the floor, receive a few raps, and 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 
 farmer, who will see with what ease work must be 
 done in such a country. 
 
 25. Fine hot day. Early peas, mentioned before, 
 harvested, in forty days from the sowing. Not 
 more flies than in England. 
 
 26. Fine broiling day. The Indian Corn grows away 
 now, and has, each plant, at least a tumbler full f 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 Borough- 
 
CLIMATE, SEASONS, ETC. 
 
 1817. 
 
 July 27. mongers, in gallons of milk and water. — Not more 
 flies 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 pleasanter life than this. 
 How I pity those, who are compelled 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 ; 
 I 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. I 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 
 musquito 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. — I have observed that, 
 when rain is approaching, the stones (which are the 
 rock stone of the country), with which a piazza 
 adjoining the house is paved, get zvet. 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 
 
CLIMATE, SEASONS, ETC 
 
 1817. 
 
 August 7. to be succeeded by a sun, which restores all 
 rights. 
 
 I wondered, at first, why I never saw any baromeU 
 in people's houses, as almost eveiy farmer has the 
 in England. But, I soon found, that they wou 
 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. — Kill 
 a lamb, and, in order to keep it fresh, sunk it do\ 
 into the well. — The wind makes the Indian Co 
 bend. 
 
 10. Fine clear hot day. The grass, which was bro\ 
 the day before yesterday, is already beautifully gree 
 In one place, where there appeared no signs < 
 vegetation, the grass is two inches high. 
 
 11. No heavy rain at night 
 
 12. Hot and close. 
 
 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- 
 villians, stripped to my shirt, and with nothing on 
 besides, but shoes and trowsers. Never ill ; no 
 head-aches ; no muddled brains. The milk and 
 water is a great cause of this. I live on salads, other 
 garden vegetables, apple-puddings and pies, butter, 
 cheese {very good from Rhode Island), eggs, and 
 bacon. Resolved 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 23rd July, 9 inches high, and, 
 poor as the ground was, looks very well. 
 
 21. Fine hot day. 
 
 22. Fine hot day. 
 
 23. Fine hot day. I have now got an English woman 
 servant, and she makes us famous apple-puddings. 
 She says she has never read Peter Pindar's account 
 of the dialogue between the King and the Cottage- 
 
'CLIMATE, SEASONS, ETC. 
 
 |8i 
 
 7- 
 igust 23. 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. Fine hot day. 
 
 25. Fine hot day. 
 
 26. Fine hot day. 
 
 27. Fine hot day. Have not seen a cloud for many 
 days. 
 
 28. Windy and rather coldish. Put on cotton stockings 
 and a waistcoat with sleeves. Do not like this 
 weather. 
 
 29. Same weather. Do not like it. 
 
 30. Fine and hot again. Give a great many apples to 
 hogs. Get some hazle-nuts in the wild grounds. 
 Larger than the English : and much about the same 
 taste. 
 
 31. Fine hot day. Prodigious dews. 
 Sept. 1. Fine and hot. 
 
 2. Fine and hot. 
 
 3. Famously hot. Fine breezes. Began imitating the 
 Disciples, at least in their diet ; for, to-day, we began 
 " 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. Same weather. 
 
 7. Same weather. 
 
 8. Same weather. 
 
 9. Rather hotter. We, amongst seven of us, eat about 
 25 ears of Corn a day. With me it wholly supplies 
 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 climate is, 
 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 Disciples 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 began 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. 
 c 13 
 
CLIMATE, SEASONS, ETC. 
 
 1817. 
 
 Sept. 11. No rain ; but cloudly. 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 a fire to write by. Don't 
 like this weather. 
 
 16. Rain, warm. 
 
 17. Beautiful day. Not very hot. Just like a fine day 
 in July in England after a rain. 
 
 18. Same weather. Wear stockings now and a waist- 
 coat 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. Same weather. 
 
 21. S ame weather . 
 
 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. 
 
 October 1. Same weather. Fresh meat keeps pretty well now. 
 
 2. Very fine ; but, there was a little frost this morning, 
 which did not, however, affect the late sown Kidney 
 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 peaches. 
 
 5. Very fine and warm. Dwarf Kidney beans very 
 fine. 
 
 6. Very fine and warm. Cutting Buckwheat. 
 
 7. Very fine and warm. 65 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 I ounces avoir- 
 dupois weight. The average weight is about 9 
 ounces, or, perhaps, 10 ounces. This is the finest 
 
 14 
 
CLIMATE, SEASONS, ETC. 
 
 1817. 
 
 October 7. of all apples. Hardly any core. Some none at all. 
 The richness of the pine-apple without the rough- 
 ness. If the King could have seen one of these in a 
 dumpling ! This is not the Newtown Pipin, which 
 is sent to England in such quantities. That is a 
 winter apple. Very fine at Christmas ; but far 
 inferior to this fall-pipin, 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 the 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 lips of the 
 kidney bean leaves ; but, not those of the cucumbers 
 or melons, which are near fences. 
 
 IX. 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 weather. 
 
 14. Rain. 50 degrees in shade. Like a fine, warm, 
 June rain in England. 
 
 15. Beautiful day. 56 degrees in shade. Here is a 
 month of October / 
 
 16. Same weather. 51 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. 
 
 19. 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 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 con- 
 sequence. All would have been dry again directly 
 
 IS 
 
CLIMATE, SEASONS, ETC. 
 
 1817. 
 
 October 24. 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, iZ. 115. 6d. English money 
 that is to say, 45. 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. 
 
 26. 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 ! I say twelve, 
 and measured 2 feet 5 inches round. From com- 
 mon English seed. 
 
 29. Very fine indeed. 
 
 30. Very fine and warm. 
 
 31. Very fine. 54 degrees in shade. Gathered our 
 last lot of winter apples. 
 
 Nov. 1. Rain all the last night and all this day. 
 
 2. Rain still. 54 degrees in shade. Warm. Things 
 grow well. The grass very fine 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 weather. 
 Digging Potatoes. 
 
 5. Same weather precisely. 
 
 6. A little cloudy, but warm. 
 
 7. Most beautiful weather ! 63 degrees in shade. 
 N.B. — 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. Very fine. 
 
 10. Very fine. 
 
 11. Very fine. 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. 
 
 16 
 
CLIMATE, SEASONS, ETC, 
 
 1817. 
 
 Nov. 
 
 12. 
 
 13. 
 14. 
 
 15- 
 16. 
 
 17. 
 18. 
 19. 
 20. 
 21. 
 22. 
 23. 
 24. 
 
 25. 
 26. 
 
 27. 
 28. 
 29. 
 
 30. 
 
 } 
 
 D< 
 
 Same weather. 69 degrees in shade. 
 Beautiful day, but cooler. 
 
 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. 
 
 Gentle rain. 53 in shade. Like a gentle rain in 
 May in England. 
 
 Gentle rain. Warm. 56 in shade. What a 
 November for an English man 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 appear- 
 ance exceeding any thing of the kind I ever saw. 
 We have fine loaved lettuce, endive, young onions, 
 young radishes, cauliflowers with heads five inches 
 over. The rye fields grow beautifully. They have 
 been food for cattle for a month, or six w r eeks, past. 
 Cloudy. Warm. 
 
 Same weather. 55 degrees in shade. 
 Frost, and the ground pretty hard. 
 Very fine indeed. Warm. 55 degrees in shade. 
 Same weather. 
 Cold, damp air, and cloudy. 
 Smart frost at night. 
 
 Same. Warm in the day time. 
 
 Same ; but more warm in the day. 
 
 Fine warm and beautiful day ; no frost at night. 
 57 degrees in shade. 
 
 Same weather precisely ; but, we begin to fear the 
 setting-in of winter, and I am very busy in covering 
 up cabbages, mangle wurzle, 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. 
 Fine warm rain. 56 in shade. 
 
 Very fair and pleasant, but frost sufficiently hard 
 to put a stop to our getting up and stacking 
 turnips. Still, however, the cattle and 6heep 
 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 i 
 
 17 
 
CLIMATE, SEASONS, ETC. 
 
 ii 7 . 
 
 Dec. 
 
 15. 
 
 16. 
 
 17. 
 18. 
 19. 
 20. 
 21. 
 
 22. 
 
 23. 
 
 24. 
 
 25- 
 
 Thaw. No rain. We get on with our work again. 
 Open mild weather. 
 Same weather. Very pleasant. 
 Rain began last night. 
 Rain all day. 
 
 Rain all day. The old Indian remark is, that the 
 winter does not set in till the ponds be full. It is 
 coming, then. 
 
 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 can- 
 dles, and fetch about 3 dollars and a quarter besides. 
 Sharp North West wind. This is the cold American 
 Wind. " A North Wester " means all that can be 
 imagined of clear in summer and cold in zvinter. I 
 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 I ever heard of who 
 refused a projfer'd augmentation of salary I 
 A hardish frost. 
 Open weather again. 
 
 Fine mild day ; but began freezing at night-fall. 
 Hard frost. 
 
 Very sharp indeed. Thermometer down to 10 
 degrees ; that is to say, 22 degrees colder than 
 barely freezing. 
 
 Same weather. Makes us run, where we used to 
 walk in the fall, and to saunter in the summer. It 
 is no new thing to me / but it makes our other 
 English people shrug up their shoulders. 
 Frost greatly abated. Stones show for wet. It will 
 come, in spite of all the fine serene sky, which we 
 now see. 
 
 A thaw. Servants made a lot of candles from mutton 
 and beef fat, reserving the coarser parts to make 
 soap. 
 
 Rain. Had some English friends. Sirloin of own 
 beef. Spent the evening in light of ozon candles, 
 as handsome as I ever saw, and, I 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 
 18 
 
CLIMATE, SEASONS, ETC, 
 
 1817. 
 
 Dec. 25. mockery to call a man free, who no more dares turn 
 out his tallow into candles for his own use, than he 
 dares rob upon the highway ? Yet, it is only by 
 means of tyranny and extortion 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, I believe ! 
 
 29. Same weather. 
 
 30. Rain all day. 
 
 31. Mild and clear. No frost. 
 1818. 
 
 Jan. 1. Same weather. 
 
 2. Same weather. 
 
 3. Heavy rain. 
 
 4. A frost that makes us jump and skip about like larks. 
 Very seasonable for a sluggish fellow. Prepared 
 for winter. Patched up a boarded building, which 
 was formerly a coach-house ; but, which is not so 
 necessary 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. How- 
 ever, I mean to give the poor things a choice. I 
 have lined the said ccach-house with cGrn-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 
 secured 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 fire, 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. 
 
 19 
 
CLIMATE, SEASONS, ETC. 
 1818. 
 
 Jan. 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 their general entry this evening ! They are 
 the best judges of what is best for them. The 
 turkeys boldly set 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 McKean, 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 journey 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. Arrive 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 seem to me to 
 confound 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 extent and number of houses 
 since the year 1799. But, after being, for so long a 
 time, familiar with London, every other place 
 
 20 
 
CLIMATE, SEASONS, ETC. 
 
 1818. 
 
 Jan. 15. 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-day to 
 see the house I formerly occupied. How small ! 
 It is always thus : the words large and small are 
 carried about with us in our minds, and we forget 
 real dimensions. The idea, such as it was received, 
 remains during our absence from the object. When 
 I returned to England, in i8co, 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 
 Farnham, the place of my birth, what was my sur- 
 prise ! Every thing was become so pitifully small I 
 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 Farnham. My heart fluttered 
 with impatience, mixed with a sort of fear, to see 
 all the scenes of my childhood ; for I had learnt 
 before, the death of my father and mother. There 
 is a hill, not far from the town, called Crooksbury 
 Hill, which rises up out of a flat, 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. 
 I could not believe my eyes I Literally speaking, I 
 for a moment, thought the famous hill removed, 
 and a little heap put in its stead ; for I 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 prodigious sand 
 hill, where I had begun my gardening works. What 
 a nothing I 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 
 21 
 
CLIMATE, SEASONS, ETC. 
 
 
 1818. 
 
 Jan. 15. pigeons that I used to feed out of my hands, the 
 last kind words and tears of my gentle and tender- 
 hearted and affectionate mother ! I hastened back 
 into the room ! If I had looked a moment longer, 
 I should have dropped. When I came to reflect, 
 what a change ! I looked down at my dress. What 
 a change ! What s'cenes I had gone through ! 
 How altered my state ! I had dined the day before 
 at a secretary of state's in company with Mr. Pitt, 
 and had been waited upon by men in gaudy liveries ! 
 I 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. Went to see my old Quaker-friends 
 at Bustleton, and particularly my beloved friend 
 James Paul, who is very ill. 
 
 Returned to Philadelphia. Little frost and a little 
 snow. 
 
 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 Hampshire, and especially with Guildford, 
 Alton, and Southampton, 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, Salisbury is deemed a very 
 cleanly place. Blandford and Dorchester are clean ; 
 but, I have never yet seen any thing like the towns 
 in Surrey and Hampshire. If a Frenchman, born 
 and bred, could be taken up and carried blindfolded 
 to Guildford, I wonder what his sensations 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, 
 gardens, houses inside and out, and the dresses of 
 the people. The market day at Guildford is a 
 perfect shozv of cleanliness. Not even a carter 
 without a clean smock-frock and closely-shaven 
 and clean-washed face. Well may Mr. Birkbeck, 
 who came from this very spot, think the people 
 dirty in the western country ! I'll engage he finds 
 more dirt upon the necks and faces of one family 
 
 
CLIMATE, SEASONS, ETC, 
 
 3i8. 
 
 Jan. 21. of his present neighbours, than he left behind him 
 upon the skins of all the people in the three parishes 
 of Guildford. 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 flowers, 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 Harrisburgh. Set off 
 to-day by stage. Fine country ; fine barns ; fine 
 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 houses. All looks like ease and plenty. 
 
 23. Harder frost, but not very severe. Almost as cold 
 as the weather was during the six weeks, continuance 
 of the snow, in 18 14, in England. 
 
 24. The same weather continues. 
 
 25. A sort of half thaw. Sun warm. Harrisburgh 
 is a new town, close on the left bank of the river 
 Susquehannah, which is not frozen over, but has 
 large quantities of ice floating on its waters. All 
 vegetation, and all appearance of green, gone away. 
 
 26. Mild weather. Hardly any frost. 
 
 27. Thaws. Warm. Tired to death of the tavern 
 at Harrisburgh, though a very good one. The 
 cloth spread three times a day. Fish, fowl, meat, 
 cakes, eggs, sausages ; all sorts of things in 
 abundance. Board, lodging, civil but not servile 
 waiting on, beer, tea, coffee, chocolate. Price, a 
 dollar and a quarter a day. Here we meet altogether : 
 senators, judges, lawyers, tradesmen, 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 rain. 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, situated at the foot of the first ridge of 
 mountains ; or 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. M'Allister just 
 
 23 
 
CLIMATE, SEASONS, ETC. 
 
 1818. 
 
 Jan. 28. 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 gives mugs 
 of nice milk. I find, here, a very agreeable and 
 instructive occasional companion, in Mr. M'Allis- 
 ter the elder. But, of the various useful informa- 
 tion, that I received from him, I must speak in the 
 second part of this work. 
 
 29. Very hard frost this morning. Change very sudden. 
 All about the house a glare of ice. 
 
 30. Not so hard. Icicles on the trees on the neighbouring 
 mountains like so many millions of sparklings tones, 
 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 
 modestly introduced themselves. What a contrast 
 with the " yeomanry cavalry ! " 
 
 Feb. 1. Same weather. About the same as a " hard frost " 
 in England. 
 
 2. Same weather. 
 
 3. Snow. 
 
 4. Little snow. Not much frost. This day, thirty- 
 three years ago, I enlisted as a soldier. I always 
 keep the day in recollection. 
 
 5. Having been to Harrisburgh on the second, returned 
 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 hardish 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 
 Farnham man think of thirty hundred weight of hops 
 upon four hundred hills, ploughed between, and the 
 ground vines fed off by sheep 1 This is a very 
 curious and interesting matter. 
 
 8. A real Frost. 
 
 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- 
 passengers crossing in all directions. 
 
 11. Went back again to Harrisburgh. Mild frost. 
 
 12. Not being able to bear the idea of dancing attendance, 
 came to Lancaster, in order to see more of this pretty 
 town. A very fine Tavern (Slaymaker's) ; room to 
 myself; excellent accommodations. Warm fires. 
 Good and clean beds. Civil but not servile, land- 
 lord. The eating still more overdone than at 
 
 24 
 
CLIMATE, SEASONS, ETC. 
 
 Feb. 12. Harrisburgh. Never saw such profusion. I 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 outskirts of cities and 
 towns in England ; those abodes of the poor crea- 
 tures, 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 upstairs. 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 buildings. And, then, all about them 
 looks so comfortable, and gives such manifest proofs 
 of ease, plenty, and happiness ! Such is the country 
 of William Penn's settling ! It is a curious thing 
 to observe the farm-houses in this country. They 
 consist, almost without exception, 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 proportion they 
 bear to each other, in point of dimensions, is, as 
 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 
 father, or grandfather, while he was toiling for his 
 children, lived in the small house, constructed 
 chiefly by himself, and consisting of rude materials. 
 
 25 
 
CLIMATE, SEASONS, ETC. 
 
 1818. 
 
 Feb. 16. The means, accumulated 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 in- 
 gratitude, and of real self-abasement. 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 
 enjoyment, evinced by this regular increase of the 
 size of the farmers' 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 government, 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 
 labourer, who ought to have been a farmer, as his 
 grandfather 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 has, indeed, a 
 fine house : but, what a life do his labourers lead ! 
 The cause of this sad change is to be 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 pur- 
 poses of the tyrants, they boast of this 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 
 many people, and that they ought (those who labour, 
 at least) to be restrained from breeding so fast. But, 
 as to the fact, I do not believe it. There can be 
 nothing in the shape of proof : for no actual enum- 
 eration was ever taken till the year 1800. We know 
 well, that London, Manchester, Birmingham, Bath, 
 Portsmouth, Plymouth, and all Lancashire and 
 Yorkshire, and some other countries, have got a vast 
 increase of miserable beings huddled together. 
 But, look at Devonshire, Somersetshire, Dorset- 
 shire, 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, 
 26 
 
CLIMATE, SEASONS, ETC. 
 
 1818. 
 
 Feb. 16. half a century. You will there see places, that were 
 once considerable towns and villages, now having, 
 within their ancient 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 conveniently, 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 existence 
 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 counties, and also in Hampshire, where 
 downs, or open lands, prevail. He will there see, 
 not only that those hills were formerly cultivated ; 
 but, that banks, from distance to distance, were made 
 by the spade, in oider to form little flats for the 
 plough to go, without tumbling the earth down the 
 hill ; 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 grain 
 raised on the sides of these hills ? The Funding 
 and Manufacturing and Commercial and Taxing 
 System has, by drawing wealth into great masses, 
 drawn men also into great masses. London, the 
 manufacturing places, Bath, and other places of 
 dissipation, have, indeed, wonderfully increased in 
 population. Country seats, Parks, Pleasure-gar- 
 dens, 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 ruth- 
 less hand of the Aristocracy, who, making their 
 approaches by slow degrees, have, at last, got into 
 their grasp the substance of the whole country. 
 
 17. Frost, not very hard. Went back to Harrisburgh. 
 
 18. Same weather. Very fine. Warm in the middle 
 of the day. 
 
 19. Same weather. — Quitted Harrisburgh, very much 
 displeased : but, on this subject, I shall, if possible, 
 keep silence, till next year, and until the People of 
 Pennsylvania have had time to reflect ; to clearly 
 
 27 
 
CLIMATE, SEASONS, ETC. 
 
 1818. 
 
 Feb. 19. understand my affair ; and when they do under- 
 stand it, I am not at all afraid of receiving justice 
 at their hands, whether 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 where in this country, with wonder- 
 ful avidity ; and, I wish I could say, that some of the 
 vices of our " higher orders" as they have the im- 
 pudence 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 I 
 
 24. Same weather. Very fair days now. 
 
 25. Went to Bustleton with my old friend, Mr. John 
 Morgan. 
 
 26. 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 weather. 
 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 
 New York (and, I think, at Philadelphia also) they 
 have corporation laws to prevent hogs from being in 
 the streets. For what reason, I know not, except 
 putrid meat be pleasant to the smell of the in- 
 habitants. But, Corporations are seldom the wisest 
 of law-makers. 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. 
 
 28 
 
CLIMATE, SEASONS, ETC, 
 
 1818. 
 
 Feb. 28. Where, then, are they to fling .these effects of super- 
 abundance ? Just before I left New York for 
 Philadelphia, I saw a sow very comfortably dining 
 upon a full quarter part of what appeared to have 
 been a fine 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, sends my mind 
 and heart back to England. In viewing the ease and 
 happiness of this people, the contrast fills my soul 
 with indignation, 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. 
 March z. 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 I found an Englishman, 
 and, from Botley 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 ! I 
 was desirous of seeing this man. Mr. Severne got 
 him into his house. His name is Yere. I knew 
 him the moment I saw him ; and, I wondered why 
 it was that he knew so little of me. I found, that he 
 wanted work, and that he had been assisted by some 
 society in Philadelphia. He said he was lame, and 
 he might be a little, perhaps. / 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, I first came to this country in no better 
 " plight. Work, and I wish you well ; be idle, and 
 D 29 
 
CLIMATE, SEASONS, ETC. 
 
 1818. 
 
 March 1. " 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.B. 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 Freemantle, 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 in- 
 dustry in business, of skill and perseverance and 
 good humour as a sportsman, and of honesty and 
 kindness as a neighbour. Indeed, I have pleasure 
 in thinking of all my Botley neighbours, except the 
 Parson, who for their sakes, I wish, however, was 
 my neighbour now : for here he might pursue his 
 calling very quietly. 
 
 2. Open weather. Went to Bustleton, after having 
 seen Messrs. Stevens and Pendrill, and advised 
 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 3 inches deep. 
 
 6. Hard frost. About as cold as a hard frost in January 
 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 promise to come and see me here. I have 
 pledged myself to transplant 10 acres of Indian 
 Corn ; and, if I write, in August, and say that it is 
 good, Thomas Paul 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 families pleased me so much formerly, and 
 which pleasure is all now revived. Here all is ease, 
 plenty, and cheerfulness. 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 
 
 30 
 
 
CLIMATE, SEASONS, ETC. 
 
 1818. 
 
 March 10. and upright men ; and I verily believe, that all those 
 charges of hypocrisy and craft, that we hear against 
 Quakers, 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, in- 
 dustry, economy, sobriety, and order, and which are 
 justly forbidden to the drunkard, the glutton, the 
 prodigal, and the lazy. As the day of my coming 
 to Mr. Townshend's had been announced before- 
 hand, several of the young men, who were babies 
 when I 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 
 f ' they grind their labourers into the revolt of starva- 
 " tion, gallantly sally forth with their sabres, to 
 " chop them down at the command of a Secretary 
 " 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 oppor- 
 tunity 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. 
 11. Same open weather. — I am now at Trenton, in New 
 Jersey, waiting for something to carry me on towards 
 New York. — Yesterday, Mr. Townshend sent me 
 on, under an escort of Quakers, to Mr. Anthony 
 Taylor's. He was formerly a merchant in Phila- 
 delphia, 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 London. I think they will weight 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 escort quitted me ; but, 
 luckily, Mr. Newbold, who lives about ten miles 
 nearer Trenton than Mr. Taylor does, brought me 
 
 3i 
 
CLIMATE, SEASONS, ETC. 
 
 1818. 
 
 March n. on to his house. He is a much better gardener, 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 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 con- 
 trived, and most substantially built sheds I ever saw. 
 The barn surpassed all that I had seen before. His 
 house (large, commodious, and handsome) stands 
 about two hundred yards from the turnpike road, 
 leading from Philadelphia to New York, and looks 
 on and over the Delaware which runs parallel with 
 the road, and has, surrounding it, and at the back 
 of it, five hundred acres of land, level as a lawn, and 
 two feet deep in loom, 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 remain a year under one roof, and save 
 his wages, he will, in a few years, be a rich man. 
 These men must be brutes indeed not to be sensible 
 of the great kindness and gentleness 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 a peach-pye ; nice clean room, well 
 furnished, waiter clean and attentive, plenty of 
 milk ; and charge, a quarter of a dollar ! I thought, 
 that Mrs. Joslin at Princestown (as I went on to 
 Philadelphia), Mrs. Benler at Harrisburgh, Mr. 
 Slaymaker at Lancaster, and Mrs. M'Allister, 
 were low enough in all conscience ; 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 I 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 
 32 
 
CLIMATE, SEASONS, ETC. 
 
 1818. 
 
 March 11. of tobacco in their mouths, or segars 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 
 before. Up to the stock of the wheel ; and yet a pair 
 of very little horses have dragged us through it in 
 the space of five 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 companion, 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 looking 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, 
 " 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 first of May 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-morrow. 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, therefore, 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 farmers, who have great skill in fine cultiva- 
 tion, and who can purchase near New York or 
 
 33 
 
CLIMATE, SEASONS, ETC, 
 
 1818. 
 
 March 12. Philadelphia. This Yankee (the inhabitants of 
 Connecticut, Rhode Island, Massachusetts and 
 New Hampshire, only, are called Yankees) was 
 about the age of Sir 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 London, 
 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 waggon, that whisked 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 December, now white. Not 
 a single sprig of green on the face of tfye 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 hereabouts. We have now an abundance of 
 
 ^ eggs. More than a large family can consume. 
 
 * We send some to market. The fowls, I 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. 
 
 17. Precisely same weather. 
 
 18. Same weather. 
 
 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 
 
 34 
 
CLIMATE, SEASONS, ETC. 
 
 1818. 
 
 March 20. England as here, though not so absolutely ne- 
 cessary. I shall communicate these in another 
 part of ray work, under the head of gardening. 
 
 21. Same weather. The day like a fine May-day in 
 England. I am writing without fire, and in my 
 waistcoat 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. 
 
 25. Still mild and fair. 
 
 26. Very cold wind. We try to get the sow and pigs 
 into the buildings. But the pigs do not follow, 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 depend on a hireling's 
 breast ! Let every young man, before 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." 
 
 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 now 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 
 December, we have had many very fine and without 
 fire in March. In England winter really begins in 
 November, 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 Houses of Boroughrnongers, write in gloves. 
 I seldom meet a waggoner with gloves or great coat 
 on. It is generally so dry. This is the great friend 
 
 35 
 
CLIMATE, SEASONS, ETC. 
 
 1818. 
 
 March 31, 
 
 April 
 
 9- 
 10. 
 
 of man and beast. Last summer / wrote home for 
 nails to nail my shoes for zuinter. 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 wanted 
 them. There is no dirt, except for about ten days 
 at the breaking up of the frost. The dress of a 
 labourer does not cost half so much as in England. 
 This dryness 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 December ; but, we have had, all 
 winter, and have now, white cabbages, green savoys, 
 parsnips, carrots, beets, young onions, radishes, white 
 turnips, Swedish turnips, and potatoes : and all these 
 in abundance (except radishes, 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 ? However 
 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, as 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. — I 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. 
 Very fine and warm. 
 Same weather. 
 Same weather. 
 Rain all day. 
 
 Rain all day. Our cistern and pool full. 
 Warm, but no sun. — Turkeys begin to lay. 
 Same weather. My first spring operations in 
 gardening are now going on ; but I must reserve 
 an account of them for another Part of my work. 
 Warm and fair. 
 Rain and rather cold. 
 
 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. 
 36 
 
CLIMATE, SEASONS, ETC. 
 
 1818. 
 
 April 10. Judge, then, of the cleanness and convenience of 
 this soil ! 
 
 11. Fine and warm. 
 
 12. Warm and fair. 
 
 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, 
 mufned-up debauchees hurry home with acking 
 joints. Some hail to-day. 
 
 20. Same weather. Just the weather to give drunkards 
 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 fine day, but 
 not warm. Dandelions blow. 
 
 23. Sharp white frost in morning. Warm and fine 
 day. 
 
 24. Warm night, warm and fair day. And here I close 
 my Journal : for, I am in haste to get my manu- 
 script 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. 
 
 21. 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 sheep and for my grazing English 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 
 
 37 
 
CLIMATE, SEASONS, ETC. 
 
 of that conceited ass, Mr. James Perry, to burst is a regular verb, 
 and vulgar pedants only make it irregular), and those of a Lilac, 
 in a warm place, are almost 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 capacity for developing principles, and 
 for simplifying things, which, in their nature, are of great com- 
 plexity ! — The oaks, which, in England, have now their sap in 
 full flow, are here quite unmoved as yet. In the gardens in general 
 there is nothing green, while, in England, 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 y 
 just coming on for use. How I have got this broccoli I must 
 explain in my Gardeners Guide : for write one I must. I never 
 can leave this country without an attempt to make every farmer 
 a gardener. — In the meat way, we have beef, mutton, bacon, 
 fowls, a calf to kill in a fortnight's time, sucking 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 peas. Chickens (the earliest) as big as American Partridges 
 (misnamed quails), and 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 I have not yet mentioned, and 
 which are almost wholly wanting here, while they are so amply 
 enjoyed in England. The singing birds and the flowers. Here are 
 many birds in summer, and some of very beautiful plumage. 
 There are some wild flowers, and some English flowers in the best 
 gardens. 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 woods and 
 orchards of garlands. — When these latter have dropped their 
 bloom, all is gone in the flowery way. No shepherd's rose, no 
 honey-suckle, none of that endless variety of beauties that decorate 
 the hedges and the meadows in England. No daisies, no prim- 
 
 38 
 
CLIMATE, SEASONS, ETC. 
 
 roses, 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 wanting in America . 
 Here are, indeed, birds, which bear the name of robin, blackbird, 
 thrush, and goldfinch ; 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, I have always had excellent health ; but, during a 
 year, in England, I used to have a cold or two ; a trifling sore 
 throat ; or something in that way. Here, I 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 illness in it. We have had but one visit from any Doctor. 
 Thus much, for the present, on this subject. I said, in the second 
 Register I sent home, that this climate was not so good as that of 
 England. Experience, observation, a careful attention to real 
 facts, have convinced me that it is, upon the whole, a better climate ; 
 though I tremble lest the tools of the Boroughmongers should cite 
 this as a new and most flagrant instance 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 England, many 
 things are included besides climate and soil and seasons, and 
 eating and drinking. 
 
 24. In the Second Part of this work, which will follow the first 
 Part in the course of two months, I shall take particular pains to 
 detail all that is within my knowledge, which I think likely to be 
 useful to persons who intend coming to this country from England. 
 I shall take every particular of the expence of supporting a family, 
 and show what are the means to be obtained for that purpose, and 
 how they are to be obtained. My intending to return to England 
 ought to deter no one from coming hither ; because, I 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. 
 
 39 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 RUTA EAGA. 
 
 Culture, Mode of preserving, and uses of the Ruta Baga, 
 sometimes called the Russia, and sometimes the Swedish 
 Turnip. 
 
 Description of the Plant. 
 
 25. It is my intention, as notified in the public papers, to put into 
 print an account of all the experiments, 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 following passage in Mr. Chan- 
 cellor 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 refuse to eat their hay, while the scanty picking of grass, 
 " 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 fed on it all the winter. Potatoes, how- 
 " ever, and the Swedish Turnip, called Ruta Baga, may be use- 
 " fully 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 large 
 " flock, we must seek resources more within our reach." And then 
 the Chancellor proceeds to recommend the leaving the second 
 growth of clover uncut, in order to produce early shoots from 
 
 40 
 
RUTA BAG A CULTURE 
 
 sheltered buds for the sheep to eat until the coming of the natural 
 grass and the general pasturage. 
 
 26. I was much surprised at reading this passage ; having 
 observed, when I lived in Pennsylvania, how prodigiously the 
 root crops of every kind flourished and succeeded with only 
 common skill and care ; and, in 181 5, having by that time had 
 many crops of Ruta Baga exceeding thirty tons, or, about one 
 thousand five hundred heaped bushels to the acre, at Botley, I formed 
 the design of sending out to America a treatise on the culture 
 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, I 
 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 " (I write on the 27th of March), with 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 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 invaluable 
 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 ex- 
 cellent in their kind and in their uses ; but, as to these, I have 
 not yet made, upon a scale sufficiently large here, such experi- 
 ments as would warrant me in speaking with any degree of con- 
 fidence. Of these, and other matters, I propose to treat in a 
 future Part, which I shall, probably, publish towards 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 distinguish 
 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 blueish 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 charac- 
 
RUTA BAG A CULTURE 
 
 teristics the most decidedly distinctive are these : that the outside 
 of the bulb of the Ruta Eaga is of a greenish hue, mixed, towards 
 the top, with a colour 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. 
 
 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 surprizing how 
 great losses are, in the end, frequently sustained by the saving 
 in this part of the business, 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 sozv an acre of 
 land. I, on one occasion, planted twenty turnips for seed, and 
 the produce, besides what the little birds took as their share for 
 having 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 England, while the birds here 
 never touch this sort of seed, that a small plot of ground would, if 
 well managed, produce a great quantity of seed. Whether it 
 would degenerate is a matter that I have not yet ascertained ; but 
 which I am about to ascertain this year. 
 
 42 
 
RUT A BAG A CULTURE 
 
 35. That all these precautions of selecting the plants and trans- 
 planting them are necessary, I know by experience. I, on one 
 occasion, had sown all my own seed, and the plants had been 
 carried off by the fly, of which I shall have to speak presently. 
 I sent to a person 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 conse- 
 quence 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 invariable 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 too 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 up, 
 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 nourishment, 
 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. 
 
 Time of Sowing. 
 
 37. 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, I 
 began with great care, on the second of June, sowing, in small 
 plots, once every week, 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 26th of June for the sowing 
 of my principal crop . 
 
 38. I 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 exactly like that insect. It 
 
 abounds sometimes, in quantities, so great as to eat up all the 
 young plants, on hundreds and thousands of acres, in a single 
 
 43 
 
RUT J BAG A CULTURE 
 
 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 repeated three times, and even then 
 there is no crop. Volumes 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 only means 
 of insuring a crop of Ruta Baga in England, is, to raise the plants 
 in small plots, sown at many different 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 heads of all the naturalists and chemists of 
 England. As an evil, the smut in wheat ; the wiieworm ; the 
 grubs above-ground and underground ; 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 inquiries, 
 experiments, analyses, innumerable. Premium upon piemium 
 offered, has only produced pretended remedies, which have led 
 to disappointment and mortification ; 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 fifty thousand farmers would very 
 cheerfully pay him ten guineas a year each. 
 
 39. The reader will easily judge, then, of my anxiety to know, 
 whether this mortal enemy of the farmer existed in Long Island. 
 This was the first question which I put to every one of my neigh- 
 bours, and I augured good from their not appearing to understand 
 what I meant. However, as my little plots of turnips came up 
 successively, 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 wonder- 
 ful that the culture of this root has not, long ago, become general 
 in this country. 
 
 40. The time of sowing, then, may be, as circumstances may 
 require, from the 25th of June, to about the 10th of jfidy, as the 
 
 44 
 
 
RUT A BAG A CULTURE 
 
 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 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 15th 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 I 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 sufficiently manured 
 with ashes from burnt earth : a mode of raising manure of which 
 I shall fully treat in a future 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 the 
 old folk in the West of England, that God is almost always on the 
 side of early farmers. Besides, one delay too often produces 
 another 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 diminution 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. 
 
 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 clay, would not do well, certainly ; but I have 
 
 E 45 
 
RUTA BAG A CULTURE 
 
 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 towards 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 corn 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 fly /), 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 them up with the 
 harrow ; and, besides, my time of sowing came on apace. Thus 
 situated, and having no faith 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 carried away in- 
 stantly by evaporation. I 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, I had the good 
 luck to follow a person, who appears not to have known much of 
 the use of brooms. By means of sweeping and raking and scratch- 
 ing in and round the house, the barn, the stables, the hen-roost, 
 and the court and yard, I got together about four hundred 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. 
 
 49. 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 
 I have given an account of the manner of sowing and transplanting. 
 
 46 
 
RUTA BAG A CULTURE 
 
 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 shout 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 beneath where my seed 
 was to come. I 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 always 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 saving 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 the distance 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 transplanted, 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. I cannot help endeavouring to press this fact upon the 
 reader. Squeezing down the earth makes it touch the seed in ail 
 
RUT A BAG A CULTURE 
 
 its parts, and then it will soon vegetate. It is for this reason, 
 that barley and oat fields should be rolled, if the weather be dry ; 
 and, indeed, that all seeds should be pressed down, if the state 
 of the earth will admit of it. 
 
 54. This mode of sowing is neither tedious nor expensive. 
 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 under- 
 stood 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 I 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. 
 
 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 cculd live under the scorching of the sun. 
 I knew that this was an erroneous notion ; but I had not much 
 confidence in the powers of the soil, it being so evidently poor, 
 and my supply of manure so scanty. 
 
 58. The plants, however, made their appearance with great 
 regularity ; no fly came to annoy them. The moment they were 
 
 48 
 
RUT A BAG A CULTURE 
 
 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 left two 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 -performed 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 sun, 
 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 
 tops 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 
 coming down, then another furrow from the same side of the first 
 ridge going up, and another from the same side of the other 
 ridge coming down. In the taking away of the last two furrov/s, 
 we went within three inches of the turnip-plants. Thus there 
 was a ridge over the original 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 fine as 
 any garden that ever was seen. 
 
 60. 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 
 principles are always true, in whatever soil or climate applied. 
 
 61. It was now a very beautiful thing to see a regular, unbroken 
 line of fine, fresh-looking plants upon the tops of those wide 
 ridges, which had been thought to be so very whimsical and un- 
 necessary. But, why have the ridges so very wide ? This 
 question was not new to me, who had to answer it a thousand 
 times in England. It is because you cannot plough deep and 
 clean in a narrower space than four feet ; and, it is the deep and 
 
 49 
 
RU<TA BAGA CULTURE 
 
 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 tons, 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 
 arrived 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, before the end of their growth ; 
 and I have had them frequently meet in this way in England. 
 They would always do it here, if the ground were rich and the 
 tillage proper. How then, can the intervals be too wide, if the 
 plants occupy 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 remained 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 process 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 fifty 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 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. 
 
 50 
 
RUTA BAG A CULTURE 
 
 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 fly : but, I 
 am of opinion, that it is, in all cases, the best mode, provided 
 hands can be obtained in sufficient number, just for a few days, 
 or weeks, 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 in- 
 structions possibly can. 
 
 67. It was an accident that led me to the practice. In the 
 summer of 18 12, I had a piece of Ruta 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 fSy, 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 the fly. I, there- 
 fore, took the supernumerary plants, which I found in the un- 
 attacked places, and filled up the rows by transplantation, which 
 I 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, there was 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 gardener go 
 and plant two rows of turnips. These became the largest and 
 finest of the whole piece, though transplanted two days later than 
 those which had been transplanted 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 into 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 exhalations arise, and a supply of the food of plants is thus 
 prepared for the newly arrived guests. Mr. Curwen, the Member 
 of Parliament, though a poor thing as to public matters, has 
 
 5i 
 
RUT A BAG A CULTURE 
 
 published not a bad book on agriculture. It is not bad, because 
 it contains many authentic accounts of experiments made by him- 
 self ; though I never can think of his book without thinking, at 
 the same time, of the gross and scandalous plagiarisms, 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, repent, and give proof of his repentance, by a 
 restoration 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 experiment, which he made, and which 
 proved, that from ground just ploughed, in a very dry time, an 
 exhalation 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 succeeding 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 hadnot 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 peas, I 
 perceived (it was in a dry time) the cabbages, the next morning, 
 in the part recently du.g, with big drops of dew hanging on the edges 
 of the leaves, and in the other, or undug part of the plot, no drops 
 at all. I had forgotten the fact till I read Mr. Curwen, arid 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 only way to ensure 
 a crop of turnips was by transplantation. The next year, there- 
 fore, I prepared a field of five acres, and another of twelve. I made 
 ridges, in the manner described, for sowing ; and, on the 7th of 
 June in the first field, and on the 20th of July in the second field, 
 I planted my plants. I ascertained to an exactness, that there 
 were thirty -three tons to an acre, throughout the whole seventeen 
 acres. After this, I never used any other method. I 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, 
 
 52 
 
RUT A BAG A CULTURE 
 
 which produced a further delay, and so the thing was not done at 
 all ; but, I weighed one waggon load, the turnips of which averaged 
 eleven pounds each : and several weighed fourteen pounds each. 
 My very largest upon Long Island 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. I 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. I 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, I met not with a 
 man who knew how Xo fix a plant in the ground ; and, strange as 
 it may appear, more than half the bulk of crop depends on a 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 Churchers at Botley, 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 
 before 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 planting, having inter- 
 vened. 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 12th of 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 ? 
 The next day after being planted, their leaves crumbled between 
 our fingers, like the old leaves of trees. In two days there was 
 
 S3 
 
RUT A BAG A CULTURE 
 
 no more appearance of a crop upon the ground than there was of a 
 crop on the Turnpike- road. But, on the 2nd of September, as 
 1 have it in my memorandum book, the plants began to show life : 
 and, before the rain came, on the 12th, the piece began 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 ; but, I must 
 here mention another transplantation that I made in the latter 
 end of July, A plot of ground, occupied 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. Having 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, I 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, 
 neglected. 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. I then thought, that I would try the hardi- 
 ness of a Ruta Baga plant. I took these same abandoned plants, 
 without 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 uncommon 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 general ; 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 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 before stated. The way I go on is this : my 
 land is put up into ridges, as described under the head of manner 
 of sowing. This is done before-hand, several days ; or, it may be, 
 a week 01 more. When we have our plants and hands all ready, 
 the ploughman begins, and turns in the ridges ; that is to say, 
 
 54 
 
RUT A BAG A CULTURE 
 
 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 finished 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 had 
 fifty-two acres of Ruta Baga planted in this way ; and I think I 
 had more than fifty 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' zvork, when put in competition with the value of an acre of 
 this invaluable root ? And what farmer is there, who has common 
 industry, who would grudge to bend his ovm 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 
 gardens in England, who knew how to plant a cabbage-plant, so 
 I am led to suppose, that very few, comparatively speaking, know 
 how to plant a turnip-plant. 
 
 79. You constantly hear people say, that they zvaitfor a shower, 
 in order to put out their cabbage-plants. Never was there an 
 error more general or more complete in all its parts. Instead of 
 rainy weather being the best time, it is the very worst 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 con- 
 tinued 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 nry care, in- 
 tending 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 the end, the cabbages of my dead 
 
 55 
 
RUT A BAG A CULTURE 
 
 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 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 waiting for a shower to 
 put out their plants ! And then, when the long-wished-for 
 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 fermentations 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 commended. As 
 an instance of this effect of deeply moving the earth between 
 growing crops, I will mention, that, in 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 ap- 
 peared 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 scarlet blossomed beans, which mount upon poles. I cut a 
 stick on purpose, and put the plants very deep into the ground. 
 
 56 
 
RUT A BAG A CULTURE 
 
 My beans came off in August, and then the 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 of my cabbages would have weighed a hundred 
 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. 
 
 82. Having now said what, I would fain hope, will convince 
 every reader of the folly of waiting for a shower in order to trans- 
 plant plants of any sort, I will now speak of the mere act of plant- 
 ing, 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 giving it a little twist, it presses the 
 earth against the point, or bottom of the root. And thus all is safe, 
 and the plant is 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 the root, against which the earth ought to be pressed, for there 
 the fibres are ; and, if they do not touch the earth closely, the plant 
 will not thrive. The reasons have been given in paragraphs 51 
 and 52, in speaking of the sowing of seeds. It is the same in all 
 cases of transplanting or planting. Trees, for instance, will be 
 sure to grow, if you sift the earth, or pulverize 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, that unless great pains be taken, there will be 
 many cavities in the hole where the tree is planted ; and, in what- 
 ever places the earth does not closely touch the root, the root v/ill 
 mould, become cankered, and will lead to the producing of a 
 poor tree. 
 
 85. When I began transplanting in fields in England, I had 
 infinite difficulty in making my planters attend to the directions, 
 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 
 between my finger and thumb. If the plant resisted the pull, so 
 as for the bit of leaf to come away, I was sure that the plant was 
 
 57 
 
RUT A BAG A CULTURE 
 
 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, miserable, ragged, squalid creatures. They were just the 
 contrary. 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 rne 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 getting 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 Joss, 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 mode 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 employment of young women 
 in the most important part of my farming, the providing of im- 
 mense quantities of cattle-food. But, I do not find this difficulty 
 here, where no workmen are obstinate, and where, too, all one's 
 neighbours 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 pre- 
 ferable to either the ridge - sowing method, or the broadcast 
 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 
 
 58 
 
RUT A BAG A CULTURE 
 
 may be put off, if need be, till early in August, as we have seen in 
 paragraphs 74 and 75. However, the best time for transplanting 
 is about the 26th of July, and this gives a month for preparation 
 of land, more than is allowed in the sowing 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, t had crops to 
 succeed Potatoes, Kidney Beans, White Peas, Onions, and even 
 Indian Corn, gathered to eat green ; and, the reader will please 
 to bear in mind, that I 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 method is, 
 that it saves almost the whole of the after -culture. There is no 
 hoeing : no thinning of the plants ; and not more than one plough- 
 ing between the ridges. This is a great consideration, and should 
 always be thought of, when we are talking of the trouble of trans- 
 planting. The turnips which I have mentioned in paragraphs 
 72 and 73 had no after-culture of any sort ; for they soon spread 
 the ground over with their leaves ; and, indeed, 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. 
 
 91. 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 irregularities. 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 
 inferior plants left to grow. And, in the broadcast 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 building, 
 is to neglect the whole building. Were it a matter of trifling 
 moment, personal attention might be dispensed with ; but, as 
 I shall, I think, clearly show, this is a matter of very great moment 
 
 59 
 
RUT A BAG A CULTURE 
 
 to every farmer. The object 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 vexa- 
 tions 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 clamourous flock, when he ought to feel pleasure 
 in the filling of their bellies. 
 
 93. Having now done with the different modes of cropping 
 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 four 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 turning 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 are four 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 different thing 
 indeed is it to plough hard ground, from what it is to plough 
 ground in this fine, broken state. Besides, 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 ploughings, and at the same seasons of the year. I 
 would spread the manure 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 seeds ; and yet I had plenty of 
 plants and a very fine crop of turnips. I sowed a piece of white 
 
 60 
 
RUT A BAG A CULTURE 
 
 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 move- 
 ment of the earth bring it up to the distance from the surface, 
 which will make it vegetate, or, it will vegetate, and come up 
 later than the rest of the plants. It will he 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 some- 
 thing more respecting the burying of seed, though it may here be 
 rather out of place. Seeds buried below their proper depth, do 
 not come up : but, many of them are near enough to the surface, 
 sometimes, 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 even 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 particular instance, on which I found the positive- 
 ness of my assertion, was in Parsnip seed. It is a very delicate 
 seed. It will, if beat out, keep only one year. I 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 parsnips 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 parsnips, now selling in New York market, 
 may clearly show ; seeing that 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 
 f 61 
 
RUTA BAGA CULTURE 
 
 waste in Long Island, within three hours drive of the all-consuming 
 and incessantly increasing city of New York ! 
 
 97. I have now spoken of the preparation of the land for the 
 reception of seeds. As to the preparation in the case of trans- 
 plantation, it might be just the same as for the sowing on ridges. 
 But here might, in this case, be one more previous ploughing, 
 always taking care to plough in dry weather, which is an observa- 
 tion I ought to have made before. 
 
 98. But, why should not the plants, in this case, succeed some 
 other good crop, as mentioned before ? I sowed some early peas 
 (brought from England) on the 2nd of June. I harvested them, 
 quite ripe and hard, on the 3 1st of July ; and I had very fine 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 Englishmen, 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 
 prefer ashes : but, my large crops in England were on yard-dung, 
 first thi own into a heap, and afterwards turned once or twice, in the 
 usual manner as practised in England. At Hyde Park I had 
 nothing but rakings up about the yard, barn, &c, 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, not very stony. 
 Nothing is so easy as this, especially in this fine climate. I 
 see people go with their waggons 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 of earth, as much manure may be 
 got upon land for half a dollar. I made an experiment last 
 summer, which convinces me, that, if the spent ashes be received 
 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, 
 
 62 
 
RUT A BAGA CULTURE 
 
 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 manured, it will, I think, puzzle 
 my good neighbours to give a good reason for their going five 
 miles for spent ashes. 
 
 101. Whether I succeed, or not, I will give an account of my 
 experiment. This I know, that I, in the year 1815, burnt ashes, 
 in one heap, to the amount of about two hundred English cart- 
 loads, each load holding about forty bushels. I should not sup- 
 pose, that the burning cost me more than five dollars : and there 
 they were upon the spot, in the very field, where they were used. 
 As to their effect, I used them for the transplanted 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, without suffering the smoke to escape, during any 
 part of the process, is a discovery of Irish origin. It was pointed 
 out to me by Mr. William Gauntlett of Winchester, 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 unac- 
 quainted 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 to my house he called, and told me, that he had 
 observed, that I wanted only a good sort of hogs, to make my stock 
 complete. I thought, that I 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, five hundred and forty pounds. This 
 breed has been fashioned by Mr. Woods of Woodmancut in 
 Sussex, who has been, I believe, more than twenty years about it. 
 I thought it perfection 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 performance ; and the 
 materials are every where to be found. 
 
 103. I think that I have now pretty clearly given an account 
 of the modes of sowing, and planting, and cultivating 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. 
 
 63 
 
RUT A BAG A CULTURE 
 
 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 will, 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 knowledge 
 last fall, never having seen any turnips harvested 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 fatting 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. 
 
 106. I began with the piece, the first mentioned in paragraph 
 46 : a part of them were taken up on the 132/2 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 covering 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 wili 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 neighbours, who 
 are 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 
 
 64 
 
RUT A BAG A CULTURE 
 
 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 away 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 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 turnips 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 10 th 
 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. 
 
 no. 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, especially 
 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 field, turned out, like most of the games of hazard, a total 
 loss. They were all rotted. 
 
 in. This loss arose wholly from my want of sufficient ex- 
 perience. 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 I worried my neighbours half to death to 
 get at a knowledge of the time of the hard weather setting in, I 
 could obtain no knowledge, on which I could rely, the several 
 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 another time ! Major Cartwright says, in 
 speaking of the tricks of English Boroughmongers, at the 
 " Glorious Revolution," that they will never be able to play the 
 
 65 
 
RUTA BAGA CULTURE 
 
 same tricks again ; for that nations, like rational individuals, are 
 not deceived tivice in the same way. 
 
 112. Thus have I spoken of the time and manner of harvesting, 
 as they took place with 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 harvested, and covered completely, for about two dollars and 
 a half an acre. It is astonishing, that this is never done in 
 England ! For, though it is generally said, that the Ruta Baga 
 will stand any 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 grew, 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 cattle 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 and 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 incon- 
 veniences 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 in 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 day, from the 
 middle of October to the end of November (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-furrow 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 harvesting 
 of turnips in proper time. I should certainly do it in November : 
 for, as we have seen, a little frost does not affect the bulbs at all. 
 I would put them in when perfectly 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 I thought I should want in January and 
 February ; for, these coverings would so break the frost, as to 
 enable me to open the heaps in those severe months. It is use- 
 less and inconvenient to take into barns, or out-houses, a very 
 large quantity at a time. Besides, if left uncovered, the very hard 
 frosts will do them harm. To be sure, this is easily prevented, 
 
 66 
 
RUTA BAGA CULTURE 
 
 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 there- 
 abouts, would be wholly unnecessary, besides being troublesome 
 from the great space, which would thus be occupied. 
 
 114. 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 unemployed spaces of the 
 farmer's time ; but, if he prefer standing with arms folded, during 
 these spaces of time, and hearing his flock bleat themselves half 
 to 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 bushels 
 to the acre ; but then, observe, they were put in a full month too 
 late. This year, I shall make a fair trial. 
 
 116. 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 quantity 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 pro- 
 digious 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 im- 
 partial as weather. As long as this sort of observation, or inquiry, 
 proceeds from a spirit of emulation, it may be treated with great 
 
 67 
 
RUT A BAG A CULTURE 
 
 indulgence ; but, when it discovers a spirit of envy, it becomes 
 detestable, 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, and I 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 backward- 
 ness, but great forwardness, to applaud and admire my mode of 
 cultivating these crops. Not so, in England, where the farmers 
 (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 English- 
 men 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 up- 
 right 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 approaches its poisoned purlieu. This Board 
 has for its Secretary, Mr. Arthur Young, 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 has published, at the public expense, under the 
 name of Communications , I defy the world to match it as a mass of 
 illiterate, unintelligible, useless trash. The only paper, pub- 
 lished by this Board, that I ever thought worth keeping, was an 
 account of the produce from a single cow, communicated by Mr. 
 Cramp, the jail-keeper of the County of Sussex ; which con- 
 tained very interesting and wonderful facts, properly authen- 
 ticated, and stated in a clear manner. 
 
 118. Arthur Young is blind, and never attends a Board. 
 
 68 
 
RUTA BAGA CULTURE 
 
 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. Lord Hardwicke, 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- sycophants 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 description. And thus is this a mere political job ; a 
 channel for the squandering of some thousands a year of the 
 people's money upon worthless men, who ought to be working 
 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 im- 
 prove the estates of the oppressors of my country ; and the same 
 consideration now restrains me from communicating information, 
 on the subject of timber trees, which would be of immense benefit 
 to England ; and v/hich information I shall reserve, till the 
 tyranny shall be at an end. Castlereagh, in the fulness of his 
 stupidity, proposed, that, in order to find employment for " the 
 population," as he 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 com- 
 plaints, the nation would now be really injured by the com- 
 munications 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 I 
 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 men- 
 tioned Mr. Curwen'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 un dug from the month 
 of May to that of October ; and another half rod let him dig and 
 break fine 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 dry weather lets in the drought ! 
 
 122. Of course, proceeding upon this fact, which I state as the 
 
 69 
 
RUT A BAG A CULTURE 
 
 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 ploughing in 
 dry weather ? Why need I 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), looking 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. Curwen tells us of a piece of cattle-cabbages. 
 In a very dry time in July, they looked so yellow and blue, that he 
 almost despaired of them. He sent in his ploughs ; and a gentle- 
 man, who had seen them when the ploughs went in on the Monday, 
 could scarcely believe 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 pur- 
 pose, 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 plough-share down without any of the 
 fretting and unequal pulling, or jerking, that you have to en- 
 counter with horses. And, as to the slow pace of the ox, it is the 
 old story of the tortoise and the hare. If I had known, in England, 
 of the use of oxen, what I have been taught upon Long island, I 
 
 * 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, in forming 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, presses the ground, which is injurious. For ploughing 
 between the rows of turnips and Indian 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 workman, 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 quar- 
 ters of an inch in diameter. These traces are fastened 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 Hampshire. I am but a poor draftsman; but, if the printer 
 can find any thing to make the. representation with, the following 
 
 70 
 
RUT A BAG A CULTURE 
 
 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 cultivating 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 wonder- 
 ful 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 by name 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 chain 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 looked 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 at his command, no one 
 need 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 
 hundred bushels on an acre, what crop is half so valuable. 
 
 126. The bulk of crop, however, in the broadcast, or random 
 method, may be materially affected by drought : for in that case, 
 the plough cannot come to supply the place of showers. The 
 ground there will be dry, and keep dry in a dry time ; as in the 
 case of the supposed 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 become of a bluish colour ; and, 
 when this is once the case, all the rain and all the fine weather in 
 
 draft will clearly show what I have meant to describe in 
 
 words :— 
 
 <\„ 
 
 [I 
 
 When the corn (Indian) and turnips get to a size, sufficient to 
 attract the appetite of the ox, you have only to put on a muzzle. 
 This is what Mr. TULL did; for, though we ought not to muzzle 
 the ox " as he treadeth out the corn," we may do it, even for his 
 own sake, amongst other considerations, when he is assisting us 
 to bring the crop to perfection. 
 
 71 
 
RUT A BAG A CULTURE 
 
 the world will never make the crop a good one ; because the 
 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. 
 
 127. 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 better), 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 ac- 
 quainted with by perceiving my Shepherd's dog eating in the 
 field along with the sheep. I 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 it. 
 
 128. Let 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 I 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 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 working 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 
 Indian corn each ; the pigs nothing but the roots ; the fowls and 
 ducks and turkeys are never fed in any other vf&y, though they 
 know how to feed themselves whenever there is any thing good to 
 be found above ground. 
 
 131. I am weaning some pigs, which, as every one knows, is an 
 affair of milk and meal. I have neither. I give about three 
 buckets of boiled Ruta Baga to seven pigs every day, not having any 
 convenience for steaming ; two baits of Indian corn in the ear. 
 And, with this diet, increasing the quantity with the growth of the 
 pigs, I expect to turn them out of the sty fatter (if that be possible) 
 
 72 
 
RUTA BAG A CULTURE 
 
 than they entered it. Now, if this be so, every farmer 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 afterwards 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 must have female labour, which, in America, is a 
 very precious commodity. You cannot have meal without 
 sharing in kind pretty liberally with the miller, besides bestowing 
 labour, however busy you may be, to carry the corn to mill and 
 bring the meal back. I am, however, speaking here of the pigs 
 from my English breed ; though I 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 Baga 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 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, rather, 
 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, and had a calf on the Saturday night. Cows always 
 ought to be milked to the very day of their calving, and during 
 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 cozvs, 
 I will just observe, that in the little publication of Mr. Cramp, 
 mentioned above, as having been printed by the Board of Agri- 
 culture, 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 quarters 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 of 
 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 hindrances to improvement ; 
 
 73 
 
RUTA BAGA CULTURE 
 
 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 supporting an immense 
 burden of fat. Demanding but little space for its accommoda- 
 tion ; and yet, if grain and corn and milk are to be their principal 
 food, during 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 Ruta Baga, a hundred pigs could be 
 raised upon a farm in a year, and carried on till fatting time, they 
 would be worth, when ready to go into the fatting sty, 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 re- 
 sembling 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, accidentally 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, which 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 bits. These are picked out of the ground, 
 and when washed by the rain, 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 England, 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 the roots were in the ground, and gave them to fatting 
 cattle upon grass land, alternately with Indian corn in the ear ; 
 
RUTA BAGA CULTURE 
 
 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 waggon loads of greens ; and they 
 are taken off fresh and fresh as they are wanted, and, at the same 
 time, the roots are 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 carrot, 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 admits of being sown later, it may often be very desirable to 
 raise it. But, reserving myself to speak fully, in a future part of 
 my work, of my experiments as to these crops, I shall now make 
 a short inquiry 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 finer carrots, parsnips, and 
 Mangel 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. 
 
 138. A good mode, it appears to me, of making my proposed 
 comparative estimate, will be to say, how I would proceed, sup- 
 posing 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 as much grass land to the orchard as 
 would make up the twelve acres, which I could fence in an effectual 
 manner against small pigs as well as large oxen. 
 
 139. Having done this, I would take care to have fifteen acres 
 of good Indian corn, well planted, well suckered, and well tilled in 
 all respects. Good, deep ploughing 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 Ruta Baga, 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 ; I 
 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 
 
 75 
 
RUTA BAG A CULTURE 
 
 labour , for, as to taxes, the amount is not worth naming, 
 especially after the sublime 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 quarter 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 calculations are 
 built upon a supposed consumption of the whole upon the farm 
 by animals of one sort or another. 
 
 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 com- 
 modious barn 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 chopped 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 
 266 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 suppose them to be fed on this root 
 till July, and they will always eat it and thrive upon it. They 
 will eat about eight pounds each, a day ; so that, for 150 days it 
 would require 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. 
 
 76 
 
RUTA BAG A CULTURE 
 
 146. Three cows and four working oxen would, during 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 certain 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 made ample provision. 
 
 147. I should want, then, to raise five hundred bushels of Ruta 
 Baga upon each of my twelve acres ; and why should I not do it, 
 seeing that I have this year raised 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. I am now come to the first of July. My oxen are fatted 
 and disposed of. My lambs are gone to market, 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 thousand plants will 
 stand upon an acre, in four feet ridges, and every plant ought to 
 weigh three pounds at least. I have shown before how advan- 
 tageously 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 waggon-loads of Ruta 
 Baga greens, would carry me along well till December (the cab- 
 bages being planted at different 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, to 
 be kept so well as if they were fatting, or had lambs by their side. 
 
 149. From the first of December to the first of February, 
 Mangel Wurzel and white turnips would keep the sheep and cattle 
 and breeding sows plentifully ; for the latter will live well upon 
 Mangel 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 
 corn each to finish them completely. My other three hundred 
 bushels would be for sows giving suck ; the ewes, now and then 
 in wet weather ; 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 
 
 G 77 
 
RUTA BAGA CULTURE 
 
 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 demand some 
 food : but three parts of their raising consists of care : and, if I 
 had nobody in my house to bestow this care, I should, of course, 
 have the less number of mouths to feed. 
 
 151. But, my horses ! Will not they swallow my hay and my 
 oats ? No : for I want no horses. But, am I 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 spend a thousand a 
 year, and gain a thousand, 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, " would you 
 have us to be shut up at home all our lives ; or be dragged about 
 ' by oxen' ? " By no means ; not I ! I should be very sorry to 
 be thought the author of any such advice. I have no sort of ob- 
 jection to the keeping 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 are 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 prefer meat to corn, and cooked meat to raw ; they 
 will leave parsnips for corn 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 Mangel Wurzel for 
 cabbages ; they will leave potatoes (both being raw) for Mangel 
 Wurzel. A white turnip they will not touch, unless they be on the 
 point of starving. 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 after-culture are works of 
 great niceness. The crop is large with good cultivation ; but, as 
 a main crop, I prefer the Ruta Baga, of which the crop is immense, 
 
 78 
 
RUTA BAGA CULTURE 
 
 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, without my sending men and horses to the 
 water-side to fetch ashes, which have been brought from Boston 
 or Charleston, an average distance of seven hundred 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 manure. This would be ten tons to an acre 
 every year. The farm would, in this way, become more and more 
 productive ; and, as to its being too rich, I see no danger 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 labour 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 I there saw as fine fields of oats 
 as I ever saw in my life. A heavy crop upon all the ground that 
 I put a plough into is what I 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 purpose. If any man 
 would give me even horse-dung at the stable-door, four miles 
 from my land, I would not accept 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 waggon and tackle. Two 
 oxen and two men do the business in two 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 manner in which I have 
 treated the matter ; but, I have put the thoughts down as they 
 occurred to me, without 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 have found to be of use upon 
 a farm ; and also to speak fully of the sorts of cattle, sheep, and 
 
 79 
 
RUTA BAG A CULTURE 
 
 hogs, particularly the latter. My experiments are now going on ; 
 and, I shall only have to communicate the result, which I shall do 
 very faithfully, and with as much clearness as I am able. In the 
 mean while, I shall be glad to afford any opportunity, to any 
 persons who may think it worth while to come to Hyde Park, of 
 seeing how I proceed. I have just now (17th April) planted out 
 my Ruta Baga, Cabbages, Mangel Wurzel, Onions, Parsnips, 
 &c, for seed. I shall begin my earth-burning in about fifteen days. 
 In short, being convinced, that I am able to communicate very 
 valuable improvements ; and not knowing how short, or how 
 long, my stay in America may be, I 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 gratification of all private pleasures and 
 emoluments. 
 
 END 
 
 Of the Treatise on Ruta Baga, 
 
 AND OF PART I. 
 
PART II 
 
DEDICATION 
 
 TO 
 
 MR. RICHARD HINXMAN 
 
 OF CHILLING IN HAMPSHIRE. 
 
 North Hempstead, 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 favourable 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 fortune for two children , 
 and, if the present system were to continue to the end of your 
 national 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 ages of toil and of 
 sufferings, on the part of the people, be either paid off or 
 diminished. But, I trust, that deliverance from this worse 
 than Eg3/ptian bondage is now near at hand. The atrocious 
 tyranny does but stagger along. At every step it discovers fresh 
 proofs of impotence. It must come 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 excellent 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 cer- 
 tainty, that no prying, greedy Parson will come to eat up a part 
 of the young ones. How long shall we Englishmen suffer our 
 
 83 
 
DEDICATION 
 
 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 feelings of those days. The cer- 
 tainty, 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. 
 
 84 
 
PREFACE TO THE SECOND PART 
 
 157. In the First Part I adopted the mode of numbering the 
 paragraphs, a mode which I shall pursue to the end of the work ; 
 and, as the whole work may, at the choice of the purchaser, be 
 bound up in one volume, or remain in two volumes, I have 
 thought it best to resume 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. I left of! at page 
 80 ; and, I begin with 83. I have, in like manner, resumed 
 the chaptering ; so that, when the two volumes are put together, 
 they will, as to these matters, form but one ; and those, who may 
 have purchased the volumes separately, will possess the same 
 book, in all respects, as those, who shall purchase the Three Parts 
 in one Volume. 
 
 158. Paragraph 1. (Part I.) 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 edition, the paging may, * 
 and generally does, differ in such manner as to bring the matter, 
 which, in one edition, is under any given page, under a different 
 page in another edition. This renders the work of reference very 
 laborious 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 am now about 
 to send a second edition of the First Part of this work to the press. 
 
 I am quite careless about the paging ; that is to say, so that the 
 whole be comprised within the 134 pages, it is of no consequence 
 whether the matter take, with respect to the pages, precisely the 
 same situation that it took before ; and, if the paging were not 
 intended to join on to that of the present volume, it would be no 
 matter what were the number of pages upon the whole. I hope, 
 that these reasons will be sufficient to convince the reader that 1 
 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 singularity. 
 
PREFACE— PARi: II 
 
 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 
 worthy of a work, which, whatever may be the 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 reference to the divers matters 
 in all the three parts, and in the making of which Index an 
 additional 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 a want of a 
 perfectly good arrangement of the subjects of the work. 
 
 160. As the First Part closes with a promise to communicate 
 the result of my experiments of this present year, I begin the 
 Second Part with a fulfilment of that promise, particularly 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, to- 
 gether with a view of the advantages and disadvantages of pre- 
 ferring, 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 insolence. 
 
 162. Multifariousness is a 'great fault in a written work of any 
 kind. I feel the consciousness of this fault upon this occasion. 
 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 heterogeneous, the 
 one class treated of in the detail and the other in the great, ought 
 not to be squeezed together between the boards of the same 
 small volume. But, the fault is committed and it is too late to 
 repine. There are, however, two subjects which I will treat of 
 distinctly hereafter. The first is that of Fencing, a subject which 
 presses itself upon the attention of the American Farmer, but from 
 which he turns with feelings like those with which a losing trades- 
 man turns from an examination 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 Fencing. 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 
 
 86 
 
PREFACE— PART II 
 
 Gardening. This I propose to treat of in a small distinct volume, 
 under some appropriate title ; and, in this volume, to give alpha- 
 betically, 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 account of their properties, and in- 
 structions 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 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 me, 
 this year, the better part of an acre of fine cabbages to give to hogs 
 in the parching month of July. This is so very simple a matter ; 
 is so very easy to learn ; that there is scarcely a farmer in 
 America, who would not put the thing in practice, at once, with 
 complete success. 
 
 163. Let not my countrymen, who may happen to read this 
 suppose, that these, or any other, pursuits will withdraw my 
 attention from, or slacken my zeal in, that cause, which is common 
 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 commission 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 naming Tull, when he gave one of Tull's 
 experiments to the world as a discovery of his ovm. Unable to 
 screw himself up to commit a murder, he contented himself with 
 a robbery ; an instance, he may, indeed, say, of singular modera- 
 tion and self-denial ; especially when we consider of what an 
 assembly he has, with little intermission, been an " Honourable 
 Member " for the last thirty years of his life. 
 
 Wm. cobeett. 
 
 North Hempstead, Long Island, 
 15th November, 1818. 
 
 87 
 
<A TSARS <R§SIDSNCS 
 
 IN AMERICA 
 
 CHAPTER 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 farming, during the summer, 
 than I afterwards found that I 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 my men, merely telling them what to do. However, I attended 
 to the things which I thought to be of the most importance. The 
 field-culture of Carrots, Parsnips and Mangle Wurzel I did not 
 attempt. I contented myself with a crop of Cabbages and of 
 Ruta Baga and with experiments as to Earth-burning and Trans- 
 planting 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 Cricket, 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 
 
CABBAGES 
 
 what a farmer may do in the zvorst of years : and, when I consider 
 what the summer has been, I look at my Cabbages and Ruta Baga 
 with surprize as well as with satisfaction. 
 
 Cabbages. 
 
 i 66. I had some hogs to keep, and, as my Swedish Turnips 
 (Ruta Baga) would be gone by July, or before, I wished thern to be 
 succeeded by cabbages. I made a hot-bed on the zoth of March, 
 which ought to have been made more than a month earlier ; but 
 I had been in Pennsylvania, and did not return home till the 13^/2 
 of March. It requires a little time to mix and turn the dung in 
 order to prepare it for a hot-bed ; so that mine was not a very good 
 one ; and then my frame was hastily patched up, and its covering 
 consisted of some old broken sashes of windows. A very shabby 
 concern ; but, in this bed I sowed cabbages and cauliflowers. 
 The seed came up, and the plants, though standing too thick, 
 grew pretty well. From this bed, they would, if I had had time, 
 been transplanted into another, 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 12th of May before they attained this height, 
 and I 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 itself 
 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, w T hich were very tender and nearly of the 
 Cauliflower-taste, were boiled in a large cast-iron caldron, and, 
 mixed 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 animals 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 Cauli- 
 flower seed, from England, and had reached me at Harrisburgh 
 in Pennsylvania ; and partly of plants, the seed 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 degenerating 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 prac- 
 tical farmer, told me, when he gave me the seed, that it would not 
 
 90 
 
CABBAGES 
 
 produce loaved cabbages so early as my own seed would ; for, 
 that, though he had always selected the earliest heads for seed, 
 the seed degenerated, and the cabbages regularly came to per- 
 fection 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 Pennsyl- 
 vania seed, we had not a single solid loaf till the 28th of July, and, 
 from the chief part of them, not till mid-August. 
 
 169. 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 
 shewed, by their appearance, 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 spreading leaves, having no ap- 
 pearance of forming a head. However, they succeeded the 
 plants from the English seed ; and, the whole, besides what were 
 used 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 fine 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 I had not had 
 these cabbages, I must have resorted to Indian Corn, or Grain 
 of some sort. 
 
 170. But, these spring-cabbage plants were to be succeeded 
 by others, to be eaten in September and onwards to January. 
 Therefore, on the 27th of May, I 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 I now feed my animals. 
 These will be finished by the time that I cut off my Swedish 
 Turnip Greens, as mentioned in Part I. Paragraph 136. 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! Put them up: but how? No scheme that industry 
 or necessity ever sought after, or that experience ever suggested, 
 with regard to the preserving of cabbages, did I leave untried last 
 year ; and, in every scheme but one I found some inconvenience. 
 
 9* 
 
CABBAGES 
 
 Taking them up and replanting them closely in a sloping manner 
 and covering them with straw ; putting them in pits ; hanging 
 them up in a barn ; turning their heads downwards 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 
 considerable 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 of leaves with 
 cabbage-roots sticking up through it. I 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 be cut off 
 close to 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 land perfectly good and fresh. The quantity, 
 preserved thus, was small. It might amount to 200 cabbages. 
 But, it was quite sufficient for the purpose. Not only did the 
 cabbages keep better in this, than in any 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 zvere rotting. But, to this land I 
 could have gone at any time, and have brought away, if the 
 quantity had been large, a waggon load in ten minutes. If they 
 had been covered with snow (no matter how deep) by uncovering 
 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 cabbages, may be of use to send to New York, I have 
 planted them between rows of Broom-Corn. The 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 off ; 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 
 upside down ; and, as the stalks will be more than sufficient for 
 this purpose, I shall lay some of them over, instead of dirt or 
 boughs, as mentioned before. Perhaps the leaves of the Broom- 
 Corn, which are lying about in great quantities, may suffice for 
 covering. And, thus, all the materials for the work are upon the 
 spot. 
 
 172. In quitting this matter, I may observe, that, to cover 
 cabbages thus, in gardens as well as fields, would, in many cases, 
 
 92 
 
CABBAGES 
 
 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 cabbage even in the South of England. 
 Indeed no reliance 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 expence, 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, 
 than 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, I did not see them planted, and I never saw them for 
 more than two months after they were planted. The ground 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 furrow I put the manure. It was a mixture of good 
 mould and dung from pig-styes. The waggon went up the 
 interval, and the manure was drawn out and tumbled into the 
 furrow. 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. Now, then, what is the trouble : what is the expence, of 
 all this ? The seed was excellent. I do not recollect ever having 
 seen so large a piece of the cabbage kind with so few spurious 
 plants. But, though good cabbage seed is of high price, I should 
 suppose, that the seed did not cost me a quarter of a dollar. Sup- 
 pose, 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 conveniently 
 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. 
 
 H 93 
 
CABBAGES 
 
 In the summer and fall, cabbages get ripe, and, as I have observed, 
 in Part I. Paragraph 143, the Ruta Baga (which we will 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 cabbage : 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 zvhile, and then 
 delicious. This is the case with the Swedish Turnip. Hogs 
 will, indeed, always eat it, young or old ; but, it is not nearly so 
 good early, as it is when kept 'till February. 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 quantity 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 are not 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 general conduct, we 
 should give cabbage of the best quality to cattle, and keep that of 
 the worst quality for ourselves. In London, 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 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, I suppose, imagined, that they would not prefer 
 the roast-beef, if they had their choice ? Some people pretend, 
 that garbage and carrion are better 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 generally 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 delicate kinds best ; and, 
 as some of these are also the earliest kinds, they ought to be 
 cultivated for cattle. Some of the larger kinds may be cultivated, 
 too : but, they cannot be got ripe till the fall of the year. Nor 
 is the difference in the weight of the crop so great as may be 
 imagined. On the same land, that will bear a Drum-head of 
 twenty pounds, an Early York, or Early Battersea will weigh four 
 
 94 
 
CABBAGES 
 
 pounds : and these may be fifteen inches asunder in the row, while 
 the Drum-head requires four feet. Mind, I always suppose the 
 rovjs to he four feet apart, as stated in the First Part of this work 
 and for the reasons there stated. Besides the advantages cf 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 second crop of the same, 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 of raising the plants 
 with very little trouble and upon a small bit of ground. A little 
 bed will give plants for an acre or two. The expence of seed, even 
 of the dearest kinds, is a mere trifle, not worth any man's notice. 
 
 179. For these reasons I adhere to cabbages as the companion 
 crop of Swedish Turnips. The Mangel Wurzel 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 shews 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 Mangel Wurzel root, if quite ripe, is richer 
 than a white loaved cabbage ; but, it is not more easily preserved, 
 and 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 ox well ; and it will fat sheep well. Hogs will do well on it in 
 winter. I would, if I were a settled farmer, have some of it ; but, 
 it is not a thing upon which I would place my dependence. 
 
 180. As to the time of sowing cabbages, the first sowing should 
 be in a hot-bed, so as to have plants a month old when the frost 
 leaves the 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 in the open ; not under a fence, whatever may be the 
 aspect. The plants are sure to be weak, if sov/n 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 five 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 
 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. 
 
 95 
 
CABBAGES 
 
 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 improving 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 apart each way. Here they get stout and 
 straight : and, in about three weeks 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 it 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 Wiltshire, 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 gene into the field 
 from the seed-bed ; and, in so fine a climate, it may do very well ; 
 only great care is necessary 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 manuring, as 
 to the distance of the rows from each other, as to the act of planting, 
 and as to the after culture, all are the same as in the case of trans- 
 planted Swedish Turnips ; and, therefore, as to these matters, 
 the reader has seen enough in Part I. 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 out- 
 side 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 dirt, the 
 plant, though it will live, will come to nothing. Great care must, 
 therefore, be taken as to this matter. If the stems of the plants 
 he long, roots will burst out nearly all the way up to the surface 
 ■of the earth. 
 
 96 
 
CABBAGES 
 
 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 York fifteen inches : 
 Early Battersea twenty inches : Sugar 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 sewing some more ought to 
 said ; for, we are not here, as in England, confined within four 
 or five degrees of latitude. Here some of us are living in fine, 
 warm weather, while others of us are living amidst snows. It 
 will be better, therefore, 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 Botley, very reluctantly obeyed 
 me, one year, in sowing green Kale when I ordered him to do it, 
 because Whitsuntide was not come, and that, he said, was the 
 proper season. " But," said I, " Robinson, Whitsuntide comes 
 " later this year than it did last year." " Later, Sir," said he, 
 " how can that be ? " " Because," said I, " it depends upon the 
 " moon when Whitsuntide shall come." " The moon ! " said 
 he : " 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 rubbish 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 themselves the trouble 
 of thinking about things of not immediate interest. A desire 
 to avoid the reproach of being irreligious induces them to practise 
 an outward conformity. And thus have priest-craft with all its 
 frauds, extortions, and immoralities, lived and flourished in 
 defiance 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, I hurry 
 back from this degression to say, that I cannot be expected to 
 speak of precise times for doing any work, except as relates to the 
 latitude in which I live, and in which my experiments have been 
 made. I have cultivated a garden at Frederickton in the Province 
 of New Brunszvick, 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. 
 Indian Corn grew and ripened well in fields at Frederickton. 
 And, of course, the summer was sufficient for the perfecting of all 
 plants for cattle-food. And, how necessary is this food in Northern 
 
 97 
 
CABBAGES 
 
 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 
 three English, in every year. 
 
 187. According to these various circumstances men must form 
 their judgment ; but, it may be of some use to state the length 
 of lime, which is required to bring each sort of cabbage to per- 
 fection. The following sorts are, it appears to me, all that can, 
 in any case, be necessary. 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 are to stand to come 
 to perfection. The plants are supposed to be of a good size when 
 put out, to have stood sufficiently 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 
 Early York 
 Early Battersea 
 Sugar Loaf . 
 Late Battersea 
 Red Kentish . 
 Drum-head . 
 Thousand-headed 
 Large hollow 
 Ox cabbage . 
 Savoy 
 
 Six weeks. 
 Eight weeks. 
 Ten weeks. 
 Eleven weeks. 
 Sixteen weeks. 
 Sixteen weeks. 
 
 Five months. 
 
 188. It should be observed, that Savoys, which are so very rich 
 in winter, are not 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 size, and because it 
 may be convenient, in the farmer'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 first, 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. However, 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, I hope, I have now given information enough 
 to enable any one to form a judgment correct enough to begin 
 with. Experience 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 to be thought 
 of. 
 
 189. Notwithstanding all that I have said, or can say, upon the 
 subject of cabbages, I am very well aware, that the extension of the 
 
 98 
 
CABBAGES 
 
 cultivation of them, in America, will be a work of time. A pro- 
 position 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 proposition is made. A little 
 reflection will, however, suppress 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, cattle-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 Encyclopedia 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 recollect 
 the zvords : 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 had, at that moment, so fine 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 expence of an acre, exclusive of rent, is one pound, 
 fourteen shillings and a penny : or seven dollars and seventy-five 
 cents. Say that the expence in America is double and the crop 
 one half, or one fourth, if you like. Where are seventeen tons 
 of green food in winter, or even in summer, to 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 of fifty ■- 
 four tons raised on an acre where the land was worth only twelve 
 shillings (less than three dollars) an acre. In fairness, then the 
 American Editor should have given to his agricultural readers 
 what the Scotchman had said upon the subject. And, if he still 
 thought it right to advise the American 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, was not to be obtained 
 to any profit at all here. What ! will not this immense 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 harvested amidst ice and snow ! The pro- 
 position 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 hss failed. Tried ? How tried ? That cabbages, 
 and most beautiful cabbages will grow, in all parts of America, 
 
 99 
 
CABBAGES 
 
 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 
 gardens, why not infields ? Is there common sense in supposing, 
 that they will not grow in a piece of land, because it is not called 
 a garden ? The Encyclopedia Britannica 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 frightened at the labour ? All but the mere act of 
 planting is performed by oxen or horses ; and they never com- 
 plain of " the labour." The labour of an acre of cabbages is 
 not half so much as that of an acre of Indian Corn. The bringing 
 in of the crop and applying it are not more expensive than those 
 of the corn. And will any man pretend, that an acre of good 
 cabbages is not worth three times as much as a crop of good corn ? 
 Besides, 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 
 Buckwheat. 
 
 192. In concluding this Chapter I cannot help strongly recom- 
 mending 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, wanted 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, besides, 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 a fair trial. 
 
 193. I shall speak again to the use of cabbages, when I come to 
 speak of Hogs and Cozvs. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 EARTH-BURNING, l8l8. 
 
 194. In paragraphs 99, 100, and 101, I spoke of a mode of pro- 
 curing 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. 
 
 195. I have tried the efficacy of this manure on Cabbages, 
 Swedish Turnips, Indian Corn, and Buckwheat. 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 regard to the manure for Savoys. I put at 
 the rate of about twenty tons weight to an acre. In the case of the 
 Buckwheat, the Ashes were spread out of the waggon upon a 
 little strip of land on the out-side of the piece. They were thickly 
 spread ; and it might be, that the proportion exceeded even 
 thirty tons to the acre. But, upon the part where the ashes were 
 spread, the Buckwheat was three or four times as good as upon the 
 land adjoining. The land was very poor. It bore Buckwheat 
 last year, without 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 employed in preference to the latter, because a 
 smaller quantity 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 circum- 
 stances which make it profitable to add to the land under cultiva- 
 tion, what can be so convenient, what so cheap, as ashes procured 
 in this way ? 
 
 197. A near neighbour of mine, Mr. Dayrea, sowed a piece of 
 Swedish Turnips, broad-cast, in June, this year. The piece was 
 near a wood, and there was a great quantity of clods of a grassy 
 description. These he burnt into ashes, which ashes he spread 
 
EARTH-BURNING 
 
 over one half of the piece, while he put soaper's ashes over the other 
 part of the piece. I saw the turnips in October ; and there was 
 no visible difference in the two parts, whether as to the vigorous- 
 ness 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 26 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 forty 
 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 part 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 trying may be effected upon so small 
 a scale as not to exceed in expence a half of a dollar. I presume, 
 that many farmers will try this method of obtaining manure ; 
 and, therefore, I will describe how the burning is effected. 
 
 199. 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 turf, 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 uppermost to dry. The land, 
 of course is covered with grass, or heath, or something, the roots 
 of which hold it together, and which makes the part taken off take 
 the name of turf. In England, this operation is performed with 
 a turf-cutter, and by hand. The turfs are then taken, or a part 
 of them, at least, and placed on their edges, leaning 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 little 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 burnings 
 keeps working on the inside, though there never appears any 
 blaze. Thus the field is studded with heaps. After the 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 
 workman 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 
 
 102 
 
EARTH-BURNING 
 
 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 i3 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 tenants, in England, are, in many cases, 
 restrained from 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 implicitly followed in France to this day ; as it is by the great 
 mass of common farmers in England. All the foolish country 
 sayings 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 " classical" 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 com- 
 merce. I have known many a farmer, when his wheat was dead 
 ripe, put off the beginning of harvest from Thursday to Saturday, 
 in order to avoid Friday. The stars save hundreds of thousands 
 of iambs and pigs from sexual degradation at so early an age as the 
 operation would otherwise be performed upon them. These 
 heathen notions still prevail even in America as far as relates to 
 this matter. A neighbour of mine in Long Island, who was to 
 operate en some pigs and lambs for me, begged me to put the thing 
 off for a 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 
 surprized when I tola 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 pagans of Italy, two or three thousand years ago, should, by 
 " alrnanac-makers, be practised on a sensible farmer in America ! 5 ' 
 If priests, instead of preaching so much about mysteries, were to 
 explain to their hearers the origin of cheat3 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 persons on the track of 
 
 103 
 
EARTH-BURNING 
 
 detecting the cheatery of priests, the room which 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. Besides 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 I 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, I 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 fire 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. I 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 I have ploughed up round about so as to cover all 
 the fire over. The earth thus put in will burn. You will see 
 the smoke coming 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 ceremony, 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 blaze, like that of a volcano will come out, 
 and the fire will be extinguished. 
 
 205 . A very good way, is, to put your finger into the top of the 
 heap here and there ; and if you find the fire very near, throw on 
 more earth. Not too much at a time : for that weighs too heavily 
 on the fire, and keeps it back ; and, at first, 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 fire when once it is become 
 strong. 
 
 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 waggon loads in one round 
 kiln, and never saw the smoke at all after the first four days. I 
 put in my finger to try whether the fire was near the top ; and 
 when I found it approaching, I put on more earth. Never was a 
 kiln more completely burnt. 
 
 207. Nov/, 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. Because, 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 
 
 104 
 
EARTH-BURNING 
 
 composed of the grossest part of the smoke. That which flies out 
 of the chimney is the best part of all. 
 
 2o3. In case of a want of mood 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 walls, 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 at first 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 fire 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 longer and bigger as you find convenient, and set up to 
 dry, in the 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 was nursed and brought up without 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 distance 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 distance 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 sozvn 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 expence. 
 A yard square in a garden is quite sufficient for the experiment. 
 
 212. With respect to earth-ashes, burnt in kilns, keeping in ike 
 smoke, I have proved their great good effect ; but, still, I 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, seeing 
 that the expence is so trifling ? 
 
 105 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 TRANSPLANTING INDIAN CORN. 
 
 213 . 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 ploughing, 
 harrowing, marking, and manuring. The consequence 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. I sowed the seed at about three inches apart, in beds, on 
 the 20th of May. The plants stood in the beds (about 15 perches 
 of ground) till the first of July. They were now 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 I ought to have 
 proceeded to do the job at once. My principal man had heard 
 60 much in ridicule of the project, £hat 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 on, thus : I put a good quantity of earth-ashes in the deep 
 furrow between the ridges, then turned back the earth over them, 
 and then planted the Corn on the ridge, at a foot apart. We 
 pulled up the plants without ceremony, cut off their roots to half an 
 inch long, cut oft 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. 
 
 216. This was on the ist of July in the evening ; and, not willing 
 to be laughed at too much, I thought I would pause two or three 
 
 106 
 
TRANSPLANTING INDIAN CORN 
 
 days ; for, really, the sun seemed as if it would burn up the very 
 earth. At the close of the second day, news was brought me, 
 that the Corn 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 pulliv.g 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 Corn stalks in November ; 
 but, at twenty yards, I saw that all was right, and I began to re- 
 proach myself for having suffered 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 flung 
 away were, indeed, nearly all dead : but, some, which lay at the 
 bottoms of the heaps, were not only alive, but had shot their roots 
 into the ground. I resolved to plant out two rows of these, even 
 these. While I was at it Mr. Judge Mitchell called upon me. 
 He laughed at us very heartily. This was on the 8th 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, I do not mind your laugh." 
 
 218. On the 27th of August Mr. Judge Mitchell and his 
 brother the justly celebrated Doctor Mitchell did me the 
 honour to call here. I was gone to the mill ; but they saw the 
 Corn. The next day I had the pleasure to meet Doctor 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. Mitchell, 
 whether he did not think I should have won the wager. " Why 
 " I do not know, indeed," said he, "as to the two first planted 
 " rows." 
 
 219. On the 10th of September, Mr. Judge Lawrence, in 
 company with a young gentleman, saw the Corn. He examined 
 the ears. Said that they were well-filled, and the grains large. 
 He made some calculations as to the amount of the crop. I 
 
 107 
 
TRANSPLANTING INDIAN CORN 
 
 think he agreed with me, that it would be at the rate of about 
 forty bushels to the acre. All that now remained was to harvest 
 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 I anticipated 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 Lawrence saw the Corn, eight or nine 
 steers and heifers leaped, or broke, into my pasture from the road, 
 kindly poked down 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 foot ! What a mortification ! Half 
 an acre of fine cabbages 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 I to do against them ? 
 In short, I had, for once in my life, to submit peaceably and 
 quietly, and to content 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 transplanting ; and yet, every 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. 
 
 221. F6r 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 
 
 108 
 
TRANSPLANTING INDIAN CORN 
 
 good deep ploughing, or two at most, leaves the ground as clean 
 as a garden ; that is to say, as a garden ought 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, four 
 dollars an acre to the very outside. " But where are the hands 
 11 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 vHthout hands" Far, however, 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, sometimes twice ; the patching after the grubs ; 
 the suckering when that work is done, as it always ought to be ? 
 Put the plague and expences 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 of ten acres of Corn cannot be done all 
 in one day by two or three men ; nor is it at all necessary that it 
 should. It may be done within the space of twelve or fourteen 
 days. Little boys and girls, very small, will carry 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 fear of dearth. 
 The plants, in soft ground, might almost be poked down like so 
 many sticks. I did not try it ; but, I am pretty sure, that the 
 roots might be cut all off close, so that the stump were left entire, 
 For, mind, a fibre, of a stout thing, never grows again after re- 
 moval. New 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 surprise 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. 
 
 223 . If any one choose to try this method of cultivating Corn, 
 let him bear in mind, that the plants ought to be strong, and nearly 
 two feet high. The leaves should be shortened by all means ; 
 for, they must perish at the tops before the new flow of sap can 
 reach them. I have heard people say, that they have tried trans- 
 planting 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 superabundant 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 
 have put the plants in stale hard ground ; that is not my plan. 
 
 I 109 
 
TRANSPLANTING INDIAN CORN 
 
 Then they have put them into ground where prosperous neigh- 
 bours had the start of them ; that is not my plan. I am not at all 
 surprized, that they have not found their plan to answer : but, 
 that is no reason that mine should not answer. The best way will 
 be to try three rows in any field, and see which method requires the 
 least labour and produces 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 shew what we 
 may venture to do in the removing of plants ; and they shew most 
 clearly how unfounded 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 removal 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 Ranelah 
 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 great 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 ? 
 
 no 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 SWEDISH TURNIPS. 
 
 225. Upon this subject I have no great deal to add to what was 
 said in Part I. Chap. II. There are a few things, however, that 
 I omitted to mention, which I will mention here. 
 
 226. I sow my seed by hand. All machinery is imperfect 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 b)' 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 sowing 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 perfectly. I zoetted the seed with water a little, 
 I then put some whitening to it, and by rubbing them well together, 
 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 thing ; the care to be taken not to 
 bury the heart of the plant. I observed how necessary it was to 
 fix the plant firmly 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 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, there- 
 fore, 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. 
 
 in 
 
SWEDISH TURNIPS 
 
 229. My own crop of Swedish Turnips this year is far 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 experienced 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 for 
 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 I 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. In 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- villians and Bank-villians to fight 
 against. Since my Turnips were sown, I have written great part 
 of a Grammar and have sent twenty Registers to England, besides 
 writing letters amounting to a reasonable volume in bulk ; the 
 whole of which has made an average of nine pages of common print 
 a day, Sundays included. And, besides this, I have been twelve 
 days from home, on business, and about five 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 " : 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 Mr. Tierney, on the state of the 
 Paper-Money, has, I find, produced a great and general impression 
 in England. The subject was of great importance, and the 
 treating it involved 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 
 1 ith of July, the hottest day in the year. But, I never could have 
 
SWEDISH TURNIPS 
 
 done this, if I had been guzzling 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 
 indulging 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 sort of tub. The Spaniards, who are 
 a very sober people, 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 impossible for 
 me to attend to them in person at all : for, if I once got out, I 
 should have kept out. I was very anxious about them ; but much 
 more anxious about my duty to my countrymen, who have re- 
 mained so firmly attached 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 season, they did very well. I have 
 observed before, that I never saw my Savoys 'till two months after 
 they 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 mentioned Mr. Dayrea's crop 
 before, at paragraph 197. Mr. Hart, at South Hampstead, has 
 a fine 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 weather ; 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 September, 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. I advised 
 Mr. Byrd to plough between them by all means ; for the roots had 
 met long before across the interval. He observed, that the 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. I saw the turnips again on the 8th 
 of October, when I found, that he had begun the ploughing ; 
 but, that the horse made such havock amongst the leaves, and his 
 workman made such clamorous remonstrances, that, after doing a 
 little piece, Mr. Byrd desisted. These were reasons wholly in- 
 sufficient to satisfy me ; and at the latter, the remonstrances of a 
 workman, I should have ridiculed, without a grain of mercy ; only 
 
 "3 
 
SWEDISH TURNIPS 
 
 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 month (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 greats : and, that 
 this doubled 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 turnips, 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 (27 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 con- 
 firmation of a great principle of Tull 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 21st 
 of September were a crop a fourth part greater than those adjoining 
 them, which remained unploughed. 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 superabundant plants, 
 about two acres and a half. These he had not taken up on the 
 23rd of November. They were not so fine as the others, owing 
 in part, to the hearts of many having been buried, and to the whole 
 having been put too deep into the ground. But, 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 tivo rows are not 
 better than one. Mr. Judge Mitchell is a true disciple of the 
 Tullian 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 the press, I will give some 
 account of the result of his labours. 
 
 237. This year has shown me, that America is not wholly 
 exempt from that mortal enemy of turnips, the fly, which mawled 
 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 in fish-oil is of use as a protection. It is very easy 
 
 114 
 
SWEDISH TURNIPS 
 
 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. Byrd's field, they were proceeding on pretty 
 rapidly, and, therefore, he took up his turnips earlier than he 
 would have done. Wide rows are a great protection against these 
 sinecure gentry of the fields. They attacked me on the outside of 
 a piece joining some buck-wheat, where they had been bred 
 When the buckwheat was cut, they sallied out upon the turnip 
 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 
 proceeding to devour the whole. I went with my plough, 
 ploughed a deep furrow from the rows of turnips, as far as the 
 caterpillars had gone. Just shook the plants and gave the top 
 of the ridge a bit of a sweep with a little broom. Then hurried 
 them alive, by turning the furrows back. Oh ! that the people of 
 England could treat the Borough- villians and their swarms in the 
 same way ! Then might they hear without envy of the easy and 
 happy lives of American farmers ! 
 
 239. 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 line, 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 he ploughed after t'^e 21st 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. si*. |^j 
 
 240. I shall speak again of Swedish turnips when I come) to 
 treat of hogs : but, I will here add a few remarks on the subject'bf 
 preserving the roots. In paragraph 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 freezing . The turnips will freeze as hard as stones. But, 
 so that they do not see the sun, or the light, till they^are thawed y 
 
 "5 
 
SWEDISH TURNIPS 
 
 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 potatoe, which, consisting of earth, of a small 
 portion 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 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 England fatten on turnips (even white turnips) in the 
 open fields and amidst snows and hard frosts ? But, a potatoe, 
 let the frost once touch it, and it is wet dirt. 
 
 241. 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, 
 therefore, no objection 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 Winter is so much longer than the 
 Southern. Let the snows (even the Nova Scotia snows) come. 
 There are the crops safe. Ten minutes brings in a waggon load 
 at any time in winter, and the rest remain safe till spring. 
 
 242. I have been asked how I would manage the Swedish 
 turnips, so as to keep them 'till June ox July. In April (for Long 
 Island) ; that is to say, when the roots begin to shoot out greens, 
 or, as they will be, yellows, when 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 reason 
 for leaves being yellow if they grow in the dark, and green, if they 
 grow in the light ? It is not the 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 son, James, was about three years old, Lord Cochrane, 
 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. " Well," said James, " now you tell me something ; 
 " what is it that makes the grass green." His Lordship told him 
 it was the sun. " Why," said James, pulling up some grass, 
 " you see it is zvhite 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," 
 said he, " little Jemmy has started a fine subject of dispute for all 
 
 116 
 
SWEDISH TURNIPS 
 
 "the philosophers." If this page should have the honour to meet 
 the eye of Lord Cochrane, it will remind him of one of the many 
 happy hours that we have passed together, and I beg him to regard 
 any mention of the incident as a mark of that love and respect 
 which I bear towards him, and of the ardent desire I constantly 
 have to see him avenged on all vile, cowardly, perjured and in- 
 famous persecutors. 
 
 243. When any one has told me, what it is that makes " grass 
 green," I shall be able to tell him what it is that makes darkness 
 preserve turnips ; and, in the meanwhile, I am quite content 
 with a perfect knowledge of the effects. 
 
 244. So far for the preservation zvhile 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's floor : 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 vear, 
 'iilljuly. 
 
 245. Of saving seed I have some little to say. I saved some, 
 in order to see whether it degenerated : but, having, befcre 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 took no care 
 of what I had growing, being sure of the real sort from England. 
 However, Mr. Byrd's were from his own seed, which he has saved 
 for several 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 off. He ascribes 
 these defects to the season ; and it may be so ; but, I perceive 
 them in none of my turnips, which are as clear and as sound, 
 though not so large, as they were last year. 
 
 246. Seed is a great matter. Perhaps the best way, for farmers 
 in general, would be always to save some, culling the plants care- 
 fully, as mentioned in paragraph 32. This might be sown, and 
 also some English seed, the expense being so very trifling com- 
 pared 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. 
 
 117 
 
SWEDISH TURNIPS 
 
 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 insert, together with my answer. 
 
 Ploudome, 7 Dec. 1818. 
 Dear Sir, 
 
 248. About the first of June last, I received the First Part of 
 your Year's Residence in the United States, which I was much 
 pleased with, and particularly the latter part of the book, which 
 contains a treatise on the culture of the Ruta Baga. 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 ground. 
 However, I felt very anxious to try the experiment 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-five 
 rods, that had not been ploughed for nearly thirty years. I 
 ploughed the ground deep, and spread on it about ten waggon 
 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 sur- 
 face 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, 
 because deep ploughing would have turned up the sods. 
 
 251 . On the eighth of July I 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 19th 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 re- 
 maining rows, early in the morning. The weather was now very 
 dry, and the turnips sown on the 19th of Jury 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 all 
 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. 
 
SWEDISH TURNIPS 
 
 252. On the 10th of August I regulated the sown rows, and left 
 the plants standing from six to twelve inches apart. 
 
 253. A part of the seed I received from you, and a part I had 
 from France a few years ago. When I 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 hundred and two 
 bushels on sixty-five 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 five 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 the Ruta 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. I 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 valuable plant, 
 
 I remain, 
 
 Dear Sir, 
 Your most obedient servant, 
 
 Singleton Mitchell. 
 To Mr. William Cobbett, 
 Hyde Park. 
 
 258. P.S. I am very anxious to see the Second Part of your 
 Year's Residence. When will it be published ? 
 
 ANSWER. 
 
 Hyde Park, gth Dec. 1818. 
 Dear Sir, 
 
 259. Your letter has given me very great pleasure. You have 
 really tried the thing : you have given it a fair trial. Mr. Tull, 
 when people said of his horse-hoing 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." 
 
 260. You have really tried it : and very interesting your account 
 is. It 13 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 ; 
 
 119 
 
SWEDISH TURNIPS 
 
 who kept his land like a neat garden ; and, in short, whose field 
 was one of the most beautiful objects of which one can form 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 five 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 enjoyed the protection of America 
 without doing something 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 degree, 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 borough- 
 monger 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 acknowledgment of the facts relating to which transaction 
 / saw in the father's ovm hand-writing : this hireling, when he 
 heard of my arrival on Long Island, called in my Lemnos, which 
 allusion will, I hope, prove not to have been wholly inapt ; for, 
 though my life is precisely the reverse of that of the unhappy 
 Philoctetes, and though I do not hold the arrows of Hercules, 
 I do possess arrows : I make them felt too at a great distance, 
 and, I am not certain, that my arrows are not destined to be the 
 only means of destroying the Trojan Boroughmongers. 
 
 264. Having introduced a Judge here by name, it may not be 
 amiss to say, for the information of my English 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 
 characters and understanding. They receive a mere acknowledg- 
 ment for their services ; and they are, in all respects, liberal 
 gentlemen. Those with whom I have the honour to be acquainted 
 have fine and most beautiful estates ; and I am very sure, that 
 what each actually expends in acts of hospitality and benevolence 
 surpasses what such a man as Burrough, or Richards, or Bailey, 
 or Gibbs, or, indeed, any of the set, expends upon every thing, 
 
SWEDISH TURNIPS 
 
 except taxes. Mr. Judge Laurence, who came to invite me to 
 his house as soon as he heard of my landing on the Island, keeps 
 a house such as I never either saw or heard of before. My son 
 James went v/ith 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, amongst whom were the celebrated 
 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 Scot- 
 land ; a Chief Magistrate of very great talents, but in whom empty 
 pride forms no ingredient. Big wigs and long robes and super- 
 cilious airs, are necessary only when the object is to deceive and 
 overawe the people. I'll engage that to supply Judge Laurence's 
 house that one week required a greater sacrifice of animal life than 
 merciful Gibb's kitchen demands in a year : but, then, our hearty 
 and liberal neighbour never deals in human sacrifices. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 POTATOES. 
 
 265. I 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 being proper as food for man, I will, 
 out of respect for public opinion, here state my reasons for thinking 
 that the Potatoe is a root, worse than useless. 
 
 266. When I published some articles upon this subject, in 
 England, I was attacked by the Irish writers with as much fury as 
 the Newfoundlanders attack people who speak against the Pope ; 
 and with a great deal less reason ; for, to attack a system, which 
 teaches people 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 afforded. 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, how- 
 ever ; and, with nameless adversaries I do not like to join battle. 
 Of one thing I am very glad ; and that is, that the Irish do not like 
 to live upon what their accomplished countryman Doctor 
 Drennan, calls " 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 necessity, which makes them mess-mates with the 
 pig ; for when they come to this country ; they invariably prefer 
 to their "favourite root," not only fowls, geese, ducks and turkeys, 
 but even the flesh of oxen, pigs and sheep ! 
 
 268. In 1 8 15, 1 wrote an article, which I will here insert, because 
 it contains my opinions upon this subject. And when I have 
 
 122 
 
POTATOES 
 
 done that, I will add some calculations as to the comparative value 
 of an acre of wheat and an acre of potatoes. The article was a 
 letter to the Editor of the Agricultural Magazine : and was in the 
 following words. 
 
 To the Editor of the Agricultural Magazine. 
 Sir, 
 
 269. In an article of your Magazine for the month 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 potatoes. 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, I do assure you, that I never was more serious 
 in my life, than when I wrote the essay, or, rather, casually made 
 the observations against the cultivation and use of this worse than 
 useless root. If it was argument for argument's sake, no one, 
 that I can recollect, ever did me the honour to show that the 
 argument was fallacious. I think it a subject of great importance; I 
 regard the praises of this root and the preference given to it before 
 corn, and even some other roots, to have arisen from a sort of 
 monkey-like imitation. It has become, 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 one time, doubtful ; his permitting the devils to bring cannon 
 into 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 as- 
 tronomy, navigation, and chemistry are understood. But, it 
 
 123 
 
POTATOES 
 
 is the fashion to turn up the eyes, when Paradise Lost is mentioned ; 
 and, if you fail herein you want taste : you want judgment 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 provoking. 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 com- 
 paratively rude contemporaries, had had their full swing : after 
 hundreds of thousands of pounds had been expended, upon embellishing 
 his works : after numerous commentators and engravers and 
 painters and booksellers had got fat upon the trade ; after 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. At this very moment an 
 occurrence 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 
 inducing 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, Ireland and Scotland met 
 to examine these performances. Some doubted, a few denied : 
 but, the far greater part, amongst whom were Dr. Parr, Dr. 
 Wharton, and Mr. George Chalmers, declared, in the most 
 positive terms, that no man but Shakespear could have written 
 those 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 ; 
 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 immortal bard " would have 
 be&n regarded as 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 something 
 more than ridicule and contempt, Mr. Ireland, whose writings 
 had been taken for Shakespear's, was, when he made the discovery, 
 treated as an impostor and a cheat, and hunted down with as much 
 
 124 
 
POTATOES 
 
 rancour as if he had written against the buying and selling of seats 
 in Parliament. The learned men ; the sage critics : the Shake- 
 spear-mad folks : were all so ashamed, that they endeavoured to 
 draw the public attention from themselves to the young man. 
 It was of his 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 mounte- 
 bank again. 
 
 271. 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, I ask you what it is that can make a nation admire 
 Shakespear ? What 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 Dorsey, 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 matter of justification, that the People of 
 America sigh with delight to see the plays of Shakespear, whom 
 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 Quickely 
 and Doll Tearsheet ? 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 putting the question to his daughters 
 of which loved him most, and then dividing his kingdom among 
 them, according to their professions of love : how delighted to see 
 the fantastical disguise of Edgar, the treading out Gloucester's 
 k 125 
 
POTATOES 
 
 eyes, and the trick by which it is pretended he was made to believe, 
 that he had actually fallen from the top of the cliff ! How they 
 must be delighted to see the stage filled with green boughs, like a 
 coppice, as in Macbeth, or streaming like a slaughter-house, as 
 in Titus Andronicus 1 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, I 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 morality and politicks, obscurity in 
 meaning, bombastical language, forced jokes, puns, and smut, 
 were fitted to the minds of the people. But I do not thus judge. 
 It is 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, or pretend to like them, which is the same 
 thing in effect. 
 
 272. In those memorable years of wisdom, 1800 and 1801, 
 you can remember, I dare say, the grave discussions in Parliament 
 about potatoes. It was proposed 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 legislation. 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 adding 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, 
 suited to the appetite and the stomach of man ; and a certain 
 proportion of pollard 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 surprized, if it had been 
 proposed to feed the people at rack and manger. But, the 
 Potatoe ! Oh ! What a blessing to man ! Lord Grenville, 
 
 126 
 
POTATOES 
 
 at a birthday dinner given to the foreign ambassadors, used not a 
 morsel of bread, but, instead of it, little potatoe cakes, though he 
 had, I dard say, a plenty of lamb, poultry, pig, &c. All of which 
 had been fatted upon corn or meal, in whole or in part. Yes, 
 Sir, potatoes will do very well along with plenty of animal food, 
 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 consider the cost of potatoes, in a 
 family, compared with that of flour. It will be best to take the 
 simple case of the labouring man. 
 
 275. The price of a bushel of fine flour, at Botley, is, at this time, 
 10s. The weight is 56 lbs. The price of a bushel of potatoes 
 is 2s. 6d. They are just now dug up, and are at the cheapest. 
 A bushel of potatoes which are measured by a large bushel, 
 weighs about 60 lbs. dirt and all, for they are sold unwashed, 
 Allow 4 lbs. for dirt, and the weights are equal. Well, then, here 
 is toiling Dick with his four bushels of potatoes, and John with 
 his bushel of flour. But, to be fair, I 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, five bushels of potatoes 
 do cost as much as one bushel of flour. You know very well, 
 that potatoes in London, sell for id. and sometimes for 2d. a 
 pound ; that is to say, sometimes for 1/. 7s. 6d. and sometimes for 
 zl. 15s. the five bushels. This is notorious. Every reader knows 
 it. And did you ever hear of a bushel of flour selling for 2/. 15s. 
 Monstrous to think of ! And yet the tradesman's wife, looking 
 narrowly to every halfpenny, trudges away to the potatoe shop 
 to get five or six pounds of this wretched root for the purpose of 
 saving flour ! She goes and gives lod. for ten pounds of potatoes, 
 when she might buy five pounds of flour with the same money ! 
 Before her potatoes come to the table, they are, even in bulk. 
 less than 5 lbs. or even 3 lbs. 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 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 five 
 bushels at once, because he could have them a little cheaper. 
 John may have his Peck or Gallon of flour : for that has a fixed 
 and indiscriminating price. It requires 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 
 
 127 
 
POTATOES 
 
 nothing in getting home his five bushels of potatoes, and supposing 
 him to have got the right sort, a " fine sort," 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 potatoes 
 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 
 bread for dinner. Put on the Pot again for supper. Up an hour 
 before day light and on with the pot. Fill your luncheon-bag, 
 Dick : nothing is so relishing and so strengthening out in the 
 harvest-field, or ploughing on a bleak hill in winter, as a 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 the 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 lbs. of bread, which at 7 lbs. of bread a day, 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 
 labour, 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 the year, at the rate of 71 lbs. of bread a day. 
 
 277. John, on the contrary, lies and sleeps on Sunday 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 pudding 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 56 lbs. 
 of flour, with the aid of 2d. in yeast, bring him 72 lbs. of bread ; 
 while, after the dirt and peelings and waste are deducted, it is a 
 very doubtful whether Dick's 300 lbs. of potatoes bring 200 lbs. 
 of even this watery diet to his lips. It is notorious, that in a 
 pound of clean potatoes there are 11 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 
 
 
POTATOES 
 
 strengthen cunning Dick, I 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 i lb. of bread, he must swallow about 14 oz. of water, 
 earth, straw, &c. for, down they must go altogether, like the 
 Parliament's bread in the years of wisdom, 1800 and 1801. But, 
 suppose every pound of potatoes to bring into Dick's stomach 
 a 6th part in nutritious matter, including in the gross pound all 
 the dirt, eyes, peeling, and other inevitable waste. Divide his 
 gross 300 lbs. by 6, and you will find him 50 lbs. of nutritious 
 matter for the same sum that John has laid out in 72 lbs. of 
 nutritious matter, besides the price of 288 lbs. 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 
 leather, 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 ? 
 
 278. 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 is a fact not to be disputed, 
 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 sitting 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 smoky-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, I am quite serious in these my reasons 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 thing of ; but, that is another question. I have here 
 been speaking 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 tradesman's and artizan's 
 families in towns, who can lay in no store, and who must buy 
 by the ten pound or quarter of a hundred 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 with her " potatoe," and has twisted down half a pound 
 of buttered toast in the morning, and means to do the same at 
 
 129 
 
POTATOES 
 
 tea time without prejudice to her supper and grog. But when 
 Mrs. Tomkins gravely answers, " 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 see the 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 in 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 
 lbs. of potatoes are not, taking every thing into consideration, 
 more than equal to about 30 lbs. of flour, you may be of opinion, 
 that the disproportion in the bulk of the crops is, in favour of 
 potatoes, more than sufficient to compensate for this. I think 
 this is already clearly enough settled by the relative prices of the 
 contending commodities ; for, if the quantity of produce was on 
 the side of potatoes, their price would be in proportion. 
 
 282. I 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. I 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 1,440 lbs. and that of the potatoes 13,440 
 lbs. Now, then, if I am right in what has been said above, this 
 bulk of potatoes barely keeps place with that of the wheat ; for, 
 if a bushel of wheat does not make 56 lbs. of flour, it weighs 60 
 lbs. and leaves pollard and bran to make up the deficiency. Then, 
 as to the cost ; the ground must be equally good. The seed is 
 equally expensive. 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, 105. less. 
 The potatoes leave no straw, the wheat leaves straw, stubble, and 
 gleanings for pigs. The straw is worth, at least 3/. 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 buildings 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, I agree fully with Monsieur 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, 
 
 130 
 
POTATOES 
 
 life-less, pot-bellied boy peeping out at a cottage door, where I 
 ought to meet with health and vigour, I 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 eternally-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 will live upon the same diet. Mr. Curwen 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 supplying the place of 
 bread ! It is notorious, that nothing will fatten on potatoes alone 
 Carrots, parsnips, cabbages, 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. And yet, the greater part, and, 
 indeed, all the other roots and plants here mentioned, 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 latter, 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 understanding and most worthy 
 men I ever had the honour to be acquainted with, furnished me 
 
 131 
 
POTATOES 
 
 with the following comparative estimate relative to wheat and 
 potatoes. 
 
 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 
 
 45 £ pounds of flour to each bushel 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 . . . . 31J 
 
 Pounds of Flour. 
 So that the total yield in flour is . . . 2,139 
 
 Pounds of Bread. 
 
 Which will make of bread at the 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 tons, 
 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 extract the flour and 
 
 get it in a dry state, make of bread . . 2,880 
 
 132 
 
POTATOES 
 
 289. Thus, then, the nutritious contents of the Potatoes surpasses 
 that of the wheat but by a few pounds ; but to get at those con- 
 tents, 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 tzvo 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 taste have nothing immoral in 
 it, let him, in the name of all that is ridiculous, follow his taste. 
 I know a prime Minister, who picks his nose and regales himself 
 with the contents. I solemnly 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, I 
 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. What I laugh at is, the idea 
 of the use of them being a saving : of their going further than 
 bread ; of the cultivation of them in 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, / now dismiss the Potatoe with the hope, that I 
 shall never again have to write the word, or to see the 
 
 i33 
 
CHAPTER 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 fine hay no man thinks of ; and, therefore, dry they must be 
 from November until March, though a good piece 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 bulbs 
 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 I 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 turnip 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. 
 
 295. 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 cabbages or Mangel Wurzel will 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 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, 
 
 134 
 
COWS, SHEEP, ETC. 
 
 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 ! 
 
 296. My hogs are now living wholly upon Swedish 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 English hogs are sleek, and fit for fresh 
 pork : and all the hogs not only eat the greens but do well upon 
 them. But, observe, I give them plenty three times a day. In 
 the forenoon we get a good waggon load, and that is for three 
 meals. This is a main thing, this plenty : and, the farmer must 
 see to it with his OWN EYES ; for, workmen are all starvers, 
 except of themselves. I never had a man in my life, who would 
 not starve a hog, if I 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 given in greater proportionate quantities. 
 
 298. 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 men- 
 tioned the matter again, had I not been visited 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 
 great distance to ascertain the fact, but would have said at once, 
 that the thing was false. It is not more than about four hundred 
 years since the Londoners were wholly supplied 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 
 appearance in the fields in England. The successors of the first 
 settlers trod in the foot-steps of their fathers. The communica- 
 tion with England did not bring out good English farmers . Books 
 made little impression unaccompanied with actual experiments 
 on the spot. It was reserved for the Boroughmongers, armed 
 with gags, halters, 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. 
 
 135 
 
COWS, SHEEP, ETC. 
 
 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." 
 
 300. In paragraph 134 I related a fact of a neighbour 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 
 Carolina 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 sur- 
 prising, that, in many parts of this fine country, it is the rule to 
 keep only one pig for every cow ! The 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 consideration in a dairy 
 system, there would be clean milking : for, it has been proved by 
 Doctor Anderson, that the last drop is fourteen 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 understandings of pigs : and, for their 
 encouragement, I beg leave to refer them to Daniel's Rural 
 
 13 6 
 
COWS, SHEEP, ETC. 
 
 Sports, where they will find, that, in Hampshire, Sir John 
 Mildmay's gamekeeper, Toomer, taught a sow to point at 
 partridges 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 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 fgom the 
 deceptions which they practice 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-houses 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 live 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 very fine cows, with a bin of shorts and meal always in requisition, 
 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 fatting time at little expence. 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 weaned must 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 
 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 monstrous 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 two 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 15 or 16 
 
 137 
 
CO TVS, SHEEP, ETC. 
 
 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 ? 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 wethef 
 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 Westphalia, where the fine 
 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 beef, 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, hence 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 induced to keep their hogs till they have quite 
 done growing : and, though their sort of hogs is the very worst 
 I 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 wonder 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 hundred and fifty 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 farmer, 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 
 
 138 
 
COWS, SHEEP, ETC. 
 
 boards, flung carelessly 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. When I make up my 
 hogs' 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 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 litter so as to break the wind off ; and 
 when they have done their best, they lie down. I 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 was 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 at 
 about south-east, for a little bit. She then came back, marched 
 away very hastily to her pigs, roused them up in a great bustle, 
 and away 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 comfortable berth. Was this an instinctive, 
 or was it a reasoning 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 
 
 i n the early part of the growth of these plants. When turnips 
 
 re an inch or two high a good large flock of turkeys will destroy 
 
 an acre in half a day, in four feet rows. Ducks and geese will do 
 
 139 
 
CO TVS, SHEEP, ETC, 
 
 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 richest land is precisely that which is near the house, 
 and this, on every account, whether of produce or application, 
 is the very land where you ought to have these crops. 
 
 140 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 PRICES 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 
 surprizing 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 of, 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 wood-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 
 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 meadows and surprizingly 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. 
 
 312. When I 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 parlour 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, which is never 
 hardly seen in England. You see bits of wood, timber, boards,. 
 
 L 141 
 
PRICES OF LAND, LABOUR, 
 
 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 little 
 covering they get. 
 
 313. Labour is the great article of expence upon a farm ; yet 
 it is not nearly so great as in England, in proportion to the amount 
 of the produce of a farm, especially 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 year and his 
 board and lodging ; and a good day-labourer has, upon an average, 
 a dollar a day. A woman servant, in a farm-house, has from forty 
 to fifty dollars a year, or eleven pounds sterling. These are the 
 average of the wages throughout the country. But, then, mind, 
 the farmer has nothing (for, really, it is not worth mentioning) 
 to pa3/ 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 sazu. They mow four 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 sheaves 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 average, 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 causes 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 
 respects, be called a rich man ; and, I have heard, that Mr. Elias 
 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 
 descriptions, especially om fat parsons in England, would think 
 a little of this, and would betake themselves to " work with their 
 
 142 
 
FOOD AND RAIMENT 
 
 " hands the things which be good, that they may have to give to 
 " him who needeth," and not go on any longer gormandizing and 
 swilling upon the labour of those who need. 
 
 316. Besides the great quantity of work performed by the 
 American labourer, his skill, the versatility of his talent, is a great 
 thing. Every man can use an ax, a saw, and a hammer. Scarcely 
 one who cannot do any job at rough carpentering, and mend a 
 plough or a waggon. 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 ploughmen. In short, a good labourer here, can do any 
 thing that is to be done upon a farm. 
 
 317. The operations necessary in miniature cultivation they are 
 very awkward at. The gardens are ploughed in general. An 
 American labourer uses a spade in a 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 dig 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 Hamp- 
 shire and Sussex. An ax is their tool, and with that tool, at 
 cutting doun 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, to begin 
 with, the employer sent into the wood to cut down a load of wood 
 to bum. He staid a long while away with the team, and 'the 
 farmer 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. 
 
 318. 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 " 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 Brainbridge. 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 
 
 M3 
 
PRICES OF LAND, LABOUR, 
 
 England of withholding 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 com- 
 posed the army of Jackson, who drove the invaders into the 
 Gulph of Mexico, and who would have driven into the same 
 Gulph 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, with- 
 out 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, by 
 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 whole day. Here is no dispute about hours. " Hours 
 " 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 prevents so many disputes. It removes 
 so great a cause of disagreement. The American labourers, like 
 the tavern-keepers, are never servile, but always civil. Neither 
 boobishness nor meanness mark their character. They never creep 
 and fawn, and are never rude. Employed 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, were they left to enjojr 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 I 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 who 
 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 
 
 re all equally civil to their working people. They manage their 
 
 144 
 
FOOD AND RAIMENT 
 
 affairs very judiciously. 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 climate, the soil, the gentleness and docility of the 
 horses and oxen, the lightness of the waggons and carts, the 
 lightness and toughness of the zvood of which husbandry imple- 
 ments are made, the simplicity of the harness, and, above all, the 
 ingenuity and handiness of the workmen in repairing, and in 
 making shift : all these make the implements a matter- of very 
 little note. Where horses are kept, the shoing of them is the most 
 serious kind of expence. 
 
 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 
 hospitality ," as the old English saying 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 parcel of money too. If 
 he have the Jack-Daw taste for heaping little round things to- 
 gether 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 com- 
 fortably to know that the Botley Parson could never again poke 
 his nose into his sheepfold 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 " hospitality " for which she was 
 once famed, but which now really exists no where but in America. 
 
 M5 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 EXPENCE3 OF HOUSE-KEEPING. 
 
 325. It must be obvious, that these must be in proportion 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 the prices 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 
 the profits of that business. This is so plain a matter, that no 
 argument is necessary. It is unnecessary to speak about the 
 expences of a farm-house : because, the farmer eats, and very 
 frequently 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 wear the interest of his money ; for the 
 Boroughmcngers have pazvned 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, zvhat 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, lairJb, veal, small pork, hog-meat, poultry, is one 
 half the London price : the first as good, the two next very nearly 
 as good, and 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 I ever saw in all my life ; and they have been running in 
 wild ground, wholly uncultivated for many years, all the summer. 
 A lamb, killed the week before last, weighing in the whole, thirty- 
 eight pounds, had five pounds of loose fat and three pounds and ten 
 
 146 
 
EXPENCES OF HOUSEKEEPING 
 
 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 
 small, forty, or thereabouts, of some neighbours joined them ; 
 and they have all got fat together. I have 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. 
 Three times as much money, or, perhaps, ten times as much, 
 might have been made, if the ox had been shown for money. 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 owners 
 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, I 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 country- 
 house without these conveniences, he 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 
 preserved. 
 
 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. I know the article well. 
 Bread and cheese dinners have been the dinners of a good fourth 
 of my life. I know the Cheshire, Gloucester, Wiltshire, 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 
 
 147 
 
EXPENCES OF HOUSEKEEPING 
 
 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 the 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 in 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 perfection ; but, here are all the materials, and" the rest 
 will soon follow. 
 
 331. Groceries, as they are called, are, upon an average, at far 
 less than half the English price. Tea, sugar, coffee, spices, 
 chocolate, cocoa, salt, sweet oil ; all free of the Borough-mongers' 
 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, currants ; 
 all the things from the Levant, are at a fourth or fifth of the English 
 price. The English people, who pay enormously to keep pos- 
 session of the East and West Indies, purchase the produce even 
 of the English possessions at a price double of that which the 
 Americans give for that very produce I What a hellish oppression 
 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 ex- 
 travagance 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 fish is not every 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 believe they 
 count fifty or sixty sorts of fish in New York market, as the average. 
 Oysters, other shell-fish, called clams. In short, the variety and 
 abundance are such that I 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 flung out of the houses. I shall be 
 told, that it is only in hot weather, that the shambles are left thus 
 garnished. Very true ; but, are the shambles of any other country 
 
 148 
 
EXPENCES OF HOUSEKEEPING 
 
 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 waggon load of winter pears. He had high boards on the 
 sides of the waggon, and his waggon held 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, straw- 
 berries 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 county. 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 excellent of their kinds 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, protesting most decidedly 
 against this conclusion, I 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 England ; 
 in short, good, strong, 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 price that it is in England. French wine a sixth part of 
 the English price. Brandy and Rum about the same in pro- 
 portion ; and the common spirits of the country are about three 
 shillings and sixpence (English) a gallon. 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 England, and all the 
 materials of dress are as cheap as they are there ; for, though there 
 is a duty laid on the importation, 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 Borough-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 suspected handkerchief. Here Signor Waith- 
 man, or any body in that line, might have sold French gloves and 
 
 149 
 
EXPENCES OF HOUSEKEEPING 
 
 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 England. 
 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 themselves, at New York, 
 bear no resemblance to things of the same name in London. 
 The former are all good, sound, clean, and handsome. What the 
 latter are I 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 I 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 ; 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 month'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 word, 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. I will, therefore, explain the cause of this 
 dislike to the name of servant. When this country was first 
 settled, there were no people that laboured for other people : but, 
 as man is always trying to throw the working part off his own 
 shoulders, as we see by the conduct of priests in all ages, negroes 
 were soon introduced. Englishmen, who had fled 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 I doubt not 
 that this device was quite efficient in quieting their own con- 
 sciences, it gave rise to the notion, that slave and servant meant 
 one and the same thing, a conclusion perfectly natural and directly 
 
 150 
 
EXPENCES OF HOUSEKEEPING 
 
 deducible from the premises. Hence every free man and woman 
 have rejected 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 excess of his humility, calls himself, " the 
 ** Servant of the Servants of the Lord." But perhaps, the 
 American 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 that 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 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 conducive 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 vjith 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 
 turn them out of doors, or they will you. If, by any chance, 
 you find them here, it may do ; but bring them out and keep them 
 you cannot. The best way is to put on your philosophy ; never 
 to look at this evil without, at the same time, looking at the many 
 good things that you find here. Make the best selection you 
 can. Give good wages, not too much work, and resolve, at all 
 events, to treat them with civility. 
 
 340. However, what is this plague, compared with that of the 
 tax gatherer ? What is this plague compared with the constant 
 sight of beggars and paupers, and the 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 Borough- 
 mongers. No one comes to forbid you to open or shut up a 
 window. No insolent set of Commissioners send their order for 
 you to dance attendance on thern, to shew cause why they should 
 not double-tax you : and, when you have shown cause, even on 
 your oath, make you pay the tax, laugh in your face, and leave you 
 
 151 
 
EXPENCES OF HOUSEKEEPING 
 
 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 tantalizing, 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 ease, 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 others 
 as slaves, it becomes a man of fortune, proposing to emigrate to 
 America, to consider soberly, whether hie, or his wife, be of this 
 taste ; and, if the result of his consideration be in the affirmative, 
 his best way will be to continue to live under the Boroughmongers, 
 or, which I would rather recommend, hang himself at once. 
 
 
 152 
 
CHAPTER 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- 
 Americains : 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 I can hardly say any 
 thing new here upon these matters. But, as society is naturally 
 a great thing with a gentleman, who thinks of coming hither with 
 his wife and children, I will endeavour to describe the society 
 that he will find here. To give general 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 myself 
 to a most worthy and public-spirited gentleman of moderate 
 fortune, in Lancashire, who, with a large family, 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 
 purchased with love or money. Men, be they what they may, are 
 generally called by their tzvo 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 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 pretensions to superiority of blood make their appearance 
 in her language and conduct. They have a better cure for this 
 malady here ; namely ; silent, but, ineffable contempt. 
 
 345. It is supposed, in England, that this equality of estimation 
 
 153 
 
MANNERS, CUSTOMS, AND 
 
 must beget a general coarseness and rudeness of behaviour. 
 Never was there a greater mistake. No man likes to be treated 
 with disrespect ; and, when he finds that he can obtain respect 
 only by treating others with respect, he will use that only means. 
 When he finds that neither haughtiness nor wealth will bring him 
 a civil word, he becomes civil himself ; and, I repeat it again and 
 again, this is a country of universal civility. 
 
 346. 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 Iovq it for its own sake. 
 
 347. The boasting of wealth, and the endeavouring to disguise 
 poverty, these two acts, so painful to contemplate, 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 seldom un- 
 accompanied with some degree of envy of more successful neigh- 
 bours, and which has its foundation first in a dread of future want, 
 and next in a desire to obtain distinction by 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 agitation. 
 
 349. From the absence of so many causes of uneasiness, 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 the cause of universal hospitality. I 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 the 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 the butter of ten cozvs, not one 
 ounce of which is ever sold ! What do you think 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. 
 
 154 
 
CHARACTER OF THE PEOPLE 
 
 Not at all. He has only one hundred and fifty 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, buckwheat cakes, sweet meats of 
 various sorts, and many other things, make up the breakfast fare 
 of the year, and, a dish' of beef steakes is frequently added. 
 
 351. When one sees this sort of living, with the houses full of 
 good beds, ready for the guests as well as the family to sleep in, 
 we 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 Fortescue's fine 
 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. " 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 : Ail the Improve- 
 " ments 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 
 " Inhabitants are Rich in Gold, Silver, and in all the Necessaries 
 " and Conveniences of Life. They drink no 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 cloathed throughout in good Woollens ; their Bedding and 
 " other Furniture in their Houses are of Wool, and that in great 
 " Store : They are also well provided with all other Sorts of 
 " Household Goods, and necessary Implements for Husbandry : 
 " Every one, according to his Rank, hath all Things 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 impleaded in Point of Property, or arraigned for any 
 " Capital Crime, how heinous soever, but before the King's 
 " Judges, and according to the Laws of the Land. These are 
 " the Advantages consequent from that Political Mixt Government 
 " which obtains in England " 
 
 352. This passage, which was first pointed out to me by Sir 
 Francis Burdett, describes the state of 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 
 
 155 
 
MANNERS, CUSTOMS, AND 
 
 " English Hospitality " with them ; for, when they left the 
 country, the infernal Boroughmonger Funding system had not 
 begun. The Stuarts were religious and prerogative 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 chattels, lands and 
 tenements. " 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 hell-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 disposed 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 egg 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 taxgatherer 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 government : a happy people : and no 
 government ought to have any other strength. 
 
 354. But, you may say, perhaps, that plenty, however great, 
 is not all that is wanted. Very true : for the mind is of more 
 account than the carcass. But, here is mind too. These repasts, 
 amongst people of any figure, come forth under the super- 
 intendance of industrious and accomplished house-wifes, 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 racking anxiety, has created an habitual, 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 
 Cornwall, 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. 
 
 156 
 
CHAFL4CTER OF THE PEOPLE 
 
 " But, since, alas ! frail beauty must decay, 
 
 " Curl'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 humour 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 farmer is more or less of a reader. There is no 
 brogue, no provincial dialect. No class like that which the French 
 call peasantry, and which degrading appellation the miscreant 
 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 power of selection. They are 
 all 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 
 possessions, 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 : 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 minds and hearts every 
 feeling exists in the extreme. To decide the question, which 
 character is, upon the whole, best, the American or the English, 
 
 M 157 
 
MANNERS, CUSTOMS, AND 
 
 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, I must belie my very nature, if I said that 
 1 did not like the character of my own countrymen best. We 
 all like our own parents and children better than other people's 
 parents and children ; 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 some Americans 
 that I 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. 
 
 359. There is one thing in the Americans, which, though its 
 proper place was further back, I have reserved, or rather kept 
 back, to the last moment. It has presented 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 fine eatables, is very amiable. You are here disgusted with 
 none of those eaters by reputation that are found, especial 
 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 
 witnessed at Harrisburgh I shall never forget. I almost wished 
 (God forgive me !) that there were Boroughmongers 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 : 
 they will suck down any thing from the poor man's pot of beer to 
 the rich man's lands and tenements. 
 
 360. The Americans preserve their gravity and quietness 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 
 
 158 
 
CHARACTER OF THE PEOPLE 
 
 more visible, and the vice itself might become less frequent 
 Few vices want an apology, and drinking has not only its apologies 
 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 chill. 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. 
 
 361. To see this beastly vice in young men is shocking. At one 
 of the taverns at Harrisburgh there were several as fine 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 anger, 
 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 in to 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 perspiration 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 much 
 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. 
 
 365. A man, at Botley, whom I was very severely reproaching 
 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 
 
 159 
 
MANNERS, CUSTOMS, AND 
 
 stretched out, by my front gate, against the public highway ; 
 and, if he had followed the example of Noah, he would not have 
 endeavoured to excuse himself in the modest manner that he did, 
 but would have affixed an everlasting 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 saying, that the Quakers 
 used the word tired in place of the word drunk. Whether any of 
 them do ever get tired themselves, I know not ; but, at any rate 
 they most resolutely 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 introduction of beer, 
 and, I am very happy to know, that beer is, every day, becoming 
 more and more fashionable. At Bristol in Pennsylvania, I 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 the colour 
 from the cheek. It will make men " tired," indeed, by midnight ; 
 but it does not make them half dead in the morning. We call 
 wine the juice of the grape, and such it is with a proporton of, 
 ardent spirits, equal, in Portugal wine, to a. fifth of the wine ; and 
 therefore, when a man has taken down a bottle of Port or of 
 Madeira, he has nearly half a pint of ardent 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 
 are great favourites with but too many patients. Boniface, in 
 the Beaux Stratagem, says that he has eaten his ale, drunk 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, finding that the poor woman was never well, 
 he put a tub of her favourite by her bedside, which, in a short 
 time, brought her " a happy release " from this " state of pro- 
 bation," and carried her off into the " the world of spirits." 
 Whether Boniface meant this as a pun, 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 Saint 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, approaches us in the shape of liquid, 
 not melted brimstone, but wine, gin, brandy, rum, and whiskey. 
 One comfort 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 
 
 160 
 
CHARACTER OF THE PEOPLE 
 
 men do against the general and natural bent of their minds. 
 Fraud, theft, and even murder, are frequently, and most frequently 
 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 the world in the paths of sobriety, how could my 
 time have been better bestowed ? 
 
 161 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 RURAL SPORTS. 
 
 369. There are persons, who question the right of man to pursue 
 and destroy the wild animals, which 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 partridges 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 existence. 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 kind, live well too, and longer 
 than those who eat it. It comes to this, then, that we kill hogs 
 and oxen because we choose to kill them ; and, we kill game for 
 precisely the same reason. 
 
 371. A third class of objectors, seeing the weak position 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 teaching the 
 English ladies how to make turkey-capons ! Only think of the 
 separation of calves, pigs, and lambs, at an early age, from their 
 mothers ! Go, you sentimental 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 
 carcasses 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 
 mothers 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 consciences may feel, your bed. 
 
 162 
 
RURAL SPORTS 
 
 at least, may be easy and soft. Witness all this with your own 
 eyes ; and then go weeping to bed, at the possibility of a hare 
 having been terribly frightened without being killed, or of a bird 
 having been left in a thicket with a shot in its body or a fracture in 
 its wing. But, before you go up stairs, give your servant 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, senti- 
 mental 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 
 skip and the birds fly : and you shall be content with the flesh and 
 fish that come from cases of natural death, of which, I am sure, 
 your compassionate disposition will not refuse us a trifling 
 allowance. 
 
 372. Nor have even the Pythagoreans a much better battery 
 against us. Sir Richard Phillips, who once rang a peal in my 
 ears against shooting and hunting, does, indeed, eat neither flesh, 
 fish, nor fowl. His abstinence 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 hunted 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 I 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 of flax. But, even he, like Sir Richard Phillips, eat milk, 
 butter, cheese, and eggs ; though this was cruelly robbing the 
 hens, cows, and calves ; and, indeed causing the murder 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 fire ! 
 
 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, unhealthy, and 
 
 163 
 
RURAL SPORTS 
 
 effeminate. Besides, the scenes of rural sport are necessarily 
 at a distance from cities and towns. This is another great con- 
 sideration ; 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. 
 
 374. For these reasons I have always encouraged my sons to 
 pursue these sports. They have, until the age of 14 or 15, spent 
 their time, by day, chiefly amongst horses and dogs, and in the 
 fields and farm-yard ; and their candle-light has been spent 
 chiefly in reading books about hunting and shooting and about 
 dogs and horses. I have supplied them plentifully with books 
 and prints relating to these matters. They have draivn 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 knowledge 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 and 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 English- 
 men, in the heart of England, under a guard of Hanoverian sabres, 
 I received volumes of letters from my children ; and, I have them 
 now, from the scrawl of three years, to the neat and beautiful hand 
 of thirteen. I 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 wafer 
 stuck in it, used to be sent to me, and it was sure to 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 dictated 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 England, 
 in general, want servants to watch them to see that they do not 
 kill chickens, torment kittens, or set the buildings on fire. 
 
 375. Here is a good deal of boasting : but, it will not be denied, 
 that I have done a great deal in a short public life, and I see no 
 
 164 
 
RURAL SPORTS 
 
 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 world : 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 remembered, too, that 
 I myself had had a sportsman-education. I ran after the hare- 
 hounds at the age of nine or ten. I 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 I 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 remembered 
 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 without a body ; for, it will 
 not require much time to give an account of the rural sports in 
 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, Pennsylvania, 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 never saw a greyhound here. Indeed, 
 there are no hares that have the same manners that ours have, or 
 any thing like their fleetness. The woods, too, or some sort of 
 cover, except in the singular instance of the plains in this Island, 
 are too near at hand. 
 
 379. But, of shooting the variety is endless. Pheasants, 
 partridges, wood-cocks, snipes, grouse, wild-ducks of many 
 sorts, teal, plover, rabbits. 
 
 380. There is a disagreement between the North and the 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 : 
 
 «6S 
 
RURAL SPORTS 
 
 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 manners of the American 
 pheasants, which are found by ones, twos, and so on, and never 
 in families, except when young, when, like chickens, they keep 
 with the old hen. The American partridges are not quails : 
 because quails are gregarious. They keep in flocks, like rooks 
 (called crows in America), or like larks, or starlings : of which the 
 reader will remember a remarkable 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 covered a superficial 
 space of two days' journey in diameter. It is a well knov/n fact, 
 that quails flock ; 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 a hen covers 
 at one time. The American partridges live in coveys. The 
 cock and her pair in the spring. They have their brood by sitting 
 alternately on 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 call 
 to each other and re-assemble ; they roost all together in a round 
 ring, as close as they can sit, the tails inward and the heads out- 
 ward ; and are, in short, in all their manners, precisely the same 
 as the English partridge, with this exception, that they will some- 
 times 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 of 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 
 delightful, thought rather difficult, shooting. The pheasant 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. 
 
 382 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 numbers, 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 kardish frosts come. The last we killed this year was killed 
 on the 2.1st of November. So that here are five months of this sport, 
 and pheasants and partridges are shot from September to April. 
 
 383. The snipes are called English snipes, which they resemble 
 166 
 
RURAL SPORTS 
 
 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 flocks. 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 
 his 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 waggon, 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 
 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. 
 
 167 
 
CHAPTER 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. 
 
 390. Great sums of money are raised in New York, Philadelphia, 
 Boston, and other great sea-ports, for the maintenance of " the 
 poor " : and, the Boroughmongers 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 us take New York, for instance. It is notorious that, 
 whatever may be the number of persons relieved 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. What- 
 ever 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 disorderly, improvident set of beings ; and 
 the paupers, 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 
 dependents, that he is actually starving and fainting at his work. 
 
 168 
 
PAUPERS 
 
 This is what is meant by a pauper in England. But, at New York, 
 a pauper is, generally, a man who is unable, or, which is more 
 frequently the case, unwilling to work ; who is become debilitated 
 from a vicious life ; or, who, like Boroughmongers and Priests, 
 finds it more pleasant to live upon the labour of others tnan upon 
 his own labour. A pauper in England is fed upon bones, garbage, 
 refuse meat, and " 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 England, exchange his diet for that of a New York pauper ! 
 
 393. Where there are such paupers as those in England, 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 ? "I have ! " exclaims 
 some spye 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 (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 American within him. A 
 dejected, broken down thing, that approaches you bare-headed, 
 on one knee, with a trembling voice, with " pray bestow your 
 ** charity, for the Lord Jesus Christ's sake have compassion on a 
 " poor soul " ; and, if you toss a halfpenny into his ragged hat, 
 he exclaims in an extacy, " God Almighty bless your honour I " 
 though you, perhaps, be but a shoe-black yourself. An American 
 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 I have been 
 visited by only two beggars. The first was an Englishman, and 
 what was more to me, a Surrey man too ; a native of Croydon. 
 He asked me if I 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 some work first." He said he could not 
 do that, for he 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 day week, and come here 
 " again, I will help you to a quarter of a dollar." - He came, and 
 
 (60 
 
PAUPERS 
 
 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 
 politeness, 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 his hat, and being seated, pulled out 
 a large parcel of papers, amongst which was a certificate from the 
 Secretary 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 New York, and authen- 
 ticated 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 
 " pardon, Sir," said I, " you have submitted your case to me ; 
 " yqu have made an appeal to me ; your statement contains 
 " reasons for my giving ; and that gives me 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 
 " 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 vous 
 " ites un avare." Ah ! by Old Nick, I see you are a Miser. — And 
 off he went ; not, however, before I had had time to tell him to be 
 sure to give my best respects to the king of Sardinia, and to tell 
 His Majesty to keep his beggars at home. 
 
 395. 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 continent of Europe. This may be 
 no unuseful hint for the 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 
 
 170 
 
PAUPERS 
 
 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. In 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 I saw at least five thousand men, and 
 not one man in shabby clothes. 
 
 397. But, some go back after they come from England ; 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 that 
 fine 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 and 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, ail 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 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 vowed 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 utmostfto 
 establish. 
 
 398. Of the goers back was a Mr. Onslow Wakeford, who was 
 a coach-maker, some years, in Philadelphia, 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 18 14. We talked about 
 America. Said he, " I have often thought of the foolish zvay, 
 '* in which my good friend, North, and I used to talk about the 
 
 171 
 
PAUPERS 
 
 " happy state of England. The money that I have paid in taxes 
 " here, would have kept me like a gentleman there. Why," added 
 he, " if a labouring man here were seen having in his possession, 
 " the fowls and other things that labourers in Philadelphia carry 
 " home from market, he would be stopped in the street, and taken 
 " up on suspicion of being a thief : upon the supposition of its 
 " being impossible that he could have come honestly by them." I 
 told this story after I got home ; and we read in the news-papers, 
 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 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 to him for the truth of 
 the anecdote relating to him. As to the butter story, I cannot name 
 the precise date : but, I seriously declare the fact to have been as 
 I have related 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, principally in consequence of the loss 
 of his daughter (an only child) at Philadelphia, where she, amongst 
 hundreds and hundreds of others, fell before the desolating 
 lancets of 1797, 1798 and 1799. 
 
 172 
 
CHAPTER 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 without success, 
 to render that obscure, which was before clear as the sun now is 
 in Long Island, on this most beautiful fifth of December, 181 8 : 
 this Professor, who, I believe, is now a Judge, has, in his Note 
 126 on Book I, drawn what he calls " a distinction " between 
 Political and 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 conceited 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 Department. 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 President^ 
 a Senate, a 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 a freeholder. 
 
 N 173 
 
GOVERNMENT, LAWS, 
 
 405. This may serve to show how little Mr. Jerry Bentham, 
 the new Mentor of the Westminster Telemachus, knows about 
 the political part of the American governments. Jerry, whose 
 great, and, indeed, only argument, in support of annual parlia- 
 ments and universal suffrage, is, that America is so happy under 
 such a system, 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 babbler has aimed a sort of stiletto stroke at me ; 
 jot what God knows, except it be to act a consistent part, by 
 endeavouring to murder the man whom he has so frequently 
 robbed, and whose facts and thoughts, though disguised and 
 disgraced by the robber's quaint phraseology, 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 Cartwright. Mr. Brougham 
 praises Jerry : that is enough ! 
 
 406. In the four New England States, the qualification was a 
 hundred pounds. But, one of those States, Connecticut, 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, I 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 resided in the town Fthat is 
 " parish in the English meaning] in which he may offer himself 
 *' to be admitted to the privilege of being an elector, at least six 
 " months preceding, and have a freehold estate of the yearly value 
 ** of seven dollars in this State : — OR, having been enrolled in 
 " the militia, shall have performed military duty therein for the 
 " term of one year, next preceding the time he shall offer 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 con- 
 " viction of bribery, forgery, perjury, duelling, fraudulent bank- 
 ** ruptcy, theft, or other offences, for which an infamous punish- 
 " ment is inflicted." By forgery is not, of course, contemplated 
 puff-out forgery ; for that, as an act of resistance of oppression, is 
 fully justifiable : it is not only not an immoral, but it is a meri- 
 torious act. The forgery here meant is forgery committed against 
 
 174 
 
AND RELIGION 
 
 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 villains 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 colour, 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 constitution formed 
 by the steadiest community in the whole world ; a constitution 
 dictated by the most ample experience, gives to the people, as to the 
 three branches of the government (the Governor, Senate, and 
 Representatives) 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 militia, has a vote. Whoever pays 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 easily be excluded ; and, you 
 will observe, if you please, Messieurs Boroughmongers, 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 " full-blooded Yankey," and Yankey means New Englander. 
 So that, here are the steadiest of the steady adopting, after all their 
 usual deliberation and precaution, in a time of profound tran- 
 quillity, and without any party spirit or delusion, the plan of us 
 " zoild and mad " Reformers of Old England. Please God, I 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 
 general suffrage ; this was only nonsense : but, universal IN- 
 TERESTS is downright borough-mongering. Well may he 
 despair of doing any good in the House of Commons ! " 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, then it is to do it. The planters in the Southern States are 
 
 *75 
 
GOVERNMENT, LAWS, 
 
 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 necessarily 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 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, ist, 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 v/ho 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 grasping 
 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 Smithfield, bought and sold, or hired out ; 
 6th, that the Members of Congress do not sell their votes at so 
 much a vote ; 7th, that there is no 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 Boroughmongers wished to tax them 
 "without their own consent. But, the Colonies, standing upon the 
 ancient Lav/s of England, which say that no man shall be taxed 
 without his ozon consent, resisted the Boroughmongers of that day ; 
 
 **6 
 
AND RELIGION 
 
 overcame them in war ; cast off all dependence, and became free 
 and independent States. But, the great men, who conducted 
 that Revolution, as well as the people in general, were too wise to 
 cast off the excellent laws of their forefathers. They, therefore, 
 declared, that the Common Law of England should remain, being 
 subject to such modifications as might be necessary in the new 
 circumstances in which 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 vjritten or printed thing. It is 
 more ancient than books. It had its origin in the hearts of our 
 forefathers, and it has lived in the hearts of their sons, from 
 generation to generation. Hence it is emphatically called the 
 Law 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 Lavj 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 ancient, 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 solemn 
 declaration by the Parliament in these words : " The Laws of 
 " England are the Birthright of the People 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 
 encroachments 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 Lazv, 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, I cannot refrain from noticing, that the 
 People of America, when they come to settle their new govern- 
 ments, took special care to draw up specific Constitutions, in which 
 they forbade 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. 
 
 177 
 
GOVERNMENT, LAWS, 
 
 Such is the effect of that confidence, which a good and just govern- 
 ment 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 importance, 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. But, then some Boroughmonger 
 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 Pennsylvania, 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 I 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 ox false the crime of pub- 
 lishing was the same : because, whether true or false, they tended 
 to a breach of the peace I 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 virtuous 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 quibbling ; 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 pub- 
 lication a justification of it, provided the publisher can shew, that 
 the publication was 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, drunkenness : 
 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 
 
 178 
 
AND RELIGION 
 
 and folly, and to strengthen and promote virtue and wisdom ; 
 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 express a wish, 
 to see the press what they called free, and at the same time to 
 extend the restraints on it, with regard to persons in their private 
 life, beyond the obligation 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 experience 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 dis- 
 cussion, 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 increase of the restraints 
 on 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 wonderful. 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 in the nature of the government. If the press 
 had continued free, these sad effects of a waste of the public money 
 
 179 
 
GOVERNMENT, LAWS, 
 
 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 indignation would have destroyed the parliament. 
 But, with a muzzled press, the wasters proceeded with the 
 consciousness 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 Boroughmonger Parliament and the new 
 Law of Libel say to every set of Ministers. 
 
 420. Before I quit this subject of Libel, let me observe, 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 evidence prove that the pretended libeller has been 
 actuated by an evil motive, and unless it be also proved by evidence, 
 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 Constitution, 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 evidence, and the Jury shall have the 
 " right to determine the law and the facts." Thus, then, common 
 sense 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 public contempt. The press is, therefore, taken 
 altogether, 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 monarchy. 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, I, for my 
 part, will never quarrel with any body about names. 
 
 422. Taxes and Priests : for these always lay on heavily together. 
 On the subject of taxes, I have, perhaps, spoken sufficiently clear 
 before ; but, it is a great subject. I will, on these subjects, address 
 myself more immediately to my old neighbours of Botley, and 
 
 180 
 
AND RELIGION 
 
 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 were 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 very buckets and porridge pots ; he may write his 
 receipts, 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- 
 jobbers, and blood-money spies, who stand ready to take from 
 his friends, his relations, his widow, and his children, 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 v/ere 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 expence 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 
 
GOVERNMENT, LAWS, 
 
 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 public use, and is amply sufficient for all the pur- 
 poses of government. The army, if it can be so called, costs but 
 a mere trifle. It consists of a few men, who are absolutely 
 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 considerable expence. But the govern- 
 ment, 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, therefore, it need expend nothing in 
 blood-money, or in secret services of any kind. Hence the cheap- 
 ness of this government ; 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 iqs. a 
 bushel, and which I buy here for zs. 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, in- 
 surance, 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 Merchant, and then that of the shop-keeper who sells me the 
 salt. And, after all this, I buy that very Hampshire salt for zs. 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 15s. 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 15s. a bushel for them to bestow on 
 themselves, on their families and dependents, in the payment 
 of the interest of the Debt, which they have contracted, and in 
 paying 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 people ; but, it is now 
 disgraced and enslaved : it is trodden 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 instance, we buy for 
 half the price that you buy it. The reason is, that you are com- 
 pelled to pay a heavy tax, which is not paid by us for that same 
 
 182 
 
AND RELIGION 
 
 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 imprisoned ; 
 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 
 labour, the labouring man gets his shoes very cheap. In short, 
 there is no excise here ; no property tax : no assessed taxes. We 
 have no such men here as Chiddel and Billy Toveiy 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 covered over 
 with the dust, kicked up by the horses and raised by the carriage- 
 wheels of such men as 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 
 
 183 
 
GOVERNMENT, LAWS, 
 
 bozo to. They will bow to nothing else. And, they bow with 
 reverence to the law, because they know it to 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 I say, when I tell them, that the English farmer 
 gives, and is compelled 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 cannot 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 there, who would soon let you know, that your fine 
 " apple-trees do not belong to you. He would have his nose in 
 " your sheep-fold, your calf-pens, your milk-pail, your sow's- 
 " bed, if not in the sow herself. Your daughters would have no 
 " occasion to hunt out the hens' nests : he would do that for 
 " them." And then I gave him a proof of an English Parson's 
 vigilance by telling him 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 grandfather being an Englishman, as, 
 indeed, most of the Americans 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 slavery ! Well, Mr. Cobbett, 
 " I confess, that I was always for king George, during our 
 " Revolutionary war ; but, I believe, all was for the best ; for, 
 " if I had had my wishes, he might have treated us as he now treats 
 " the people of England." " He ! " said I. " It is 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 
 " thousandth part so much as I have ; for I am able, though here, 
 " to annoy our tyrants, to make them less easy 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 oppressed us and the king too. I told him how they 
 disposed of the Church livings, and, in short, explained to him 
 
 184 
 
AND RELIGION 
 
 all their arts and all their cruelties. He was exceedingly shocked ; 
 but was glad, at any rate to know the truth. 
 
 430. When I was, last winter, in the neighbourhood of Harris- 
 burgh 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 manure and with once ploughing in the 
 year. When I 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. Just 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 under- 
 stand ; 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 Boroughmongers 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 
 forgotten ; 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 falsehood 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 be yielded to a Parson, who had 
 solemnly vowed at his ordination, that he believed himself called, 
 not by the love of tithes, but by " the Holy Ghost, to take on him 
 " the curs of souls,'' and to " bring stray sheep into the fold of the 
 " Lord ? " Did God ordain these things ? Had it pleased God 
 to do this ? What impunity, what blasphemy, then, to ascribe 
 ' 185 
 
GOVERNMENT, LAWS, 
 
 to Providence the manifold sufferings occasioned by the Borough- 
 mongers' taxes and Parson's tithes ! 
 
 431. But, my Botley neighbours, you will exclaim, " No tithes I 
 " 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 Presbyterian 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 handsomer than Botley Church, with the 
 Church-yards all kept in the neatest order, with a head-stone 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 Winchester, they proposed for us to tell the 
 Prince Regent, that we would support the Church. I moved, to 
 leave out the word church, and insert the word tithes : for, as 
 there were many presbyterians 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 1 Tithes do not mean religion. Religion means a 
 reverence for God. And, what has this to do with tithes ? Why 
 cannot you reverence God, without Baker 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 country, 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 con- 
 gregation, he pays nothing at all. And, the consequence is, that 
 all is harmony and good neighbourhood. Here are not 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. What need, 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 had 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 
 
 186 
 
AND RELIGION 
 
 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, disorderly, 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 violating the laws ; he crawls to 
 nobody ; he will call every man Sir, but he will call no man 
 master. When he utters words of respect towards any one, they 
 do not proceed from fear or hope, but from civility and sincerity. 
 A native American labourer is never rude towards his employer, 
 but he is never cringing. 
 
 435. However, the best proof of the inutility of an established 
 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 Borough- 
 mongers, in answer to statements like these, say that this is a 
 thinly inhabited country. This very country is more thickly 
 settled than Hampshire. The adjoining 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 commercial and maritime city in the world. Thousands 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 neigh- 
 bours, 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 beautiful 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 v/ithout insolence, and labour without grudging. 
 
 436. What Englishman can contemplate this brilliant sight 
 without feeling some little pride that this city bears an English 
 name ? But, thoughts of more importance ought to fill his mind. 
 He ought to contrast the ease, the happiness, the absence of crime 
 
 187 
 
GOVERNMENT, LAWS, 
 
 which prevail here with the incessant anxieties, the miseries and 
 murderous works in England. In his search after causes he will 
 rind 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 a full half of the labour 
 is performed by natives of Ireland, while men of that Island make 
 a great figure in trade, at the bar, and in all the various pursuits 
 of life. They have their Romish Chapels there in great brilliancy ' 
 and they enjoy " Catholic Emancipation " without any petitioning 
 or any wrangling. In short, blindfold an Englishman 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 language : he will miss by day only the nobility and the 
 beggars, and by night only the street- walkers and pickpockets. 
 These are to be found only where there is an established clergy, 
 upheld by what is called the state, and which word means, in 
 England, the Boroughmongers. 
 
 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 
 England, and, I believe, a great deal more. Why give the five 
 millions a year then, to Parsons and their wives and 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 precepts themselves to 
 be good. If a precept be self- evidently good ; if it be an obvious 
 duty which the parson inculcates, the inculcation is useless to us, 
 because, whenever it is wanted to guide us, it will occur without 
 
 188 
 
AND RELIGION 
 
 the suggestion of any one ; and, if the precept be not self-evidently 
 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 are, 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 piecept, disregard that 
 conduct. Because, for instance, a man, though a very indifferent 
 Christian, may be a most able soldier, seaman, 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 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 I 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 con- 
 sequence, 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 perseverance in a line 
 of good conduct. 
 
 441. And thus it is with the clergy in America, who are duly 
 and amply rewarded for their diligence, 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 con- 
 gregation. 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 deserving 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 practise that simplicity which others teach, who, in 
 the great work of charity, really and truly hide from the left hand 
 
 o 189 
 
GOVERNMENT LAWS. 
 
 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 our eyes, we may, 
 without 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 church, when a church really means a body 
 of people ; so we are apt to look upon the priest 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 are to be paid, it seems a clear point, in my mind, 
 that they should be paid upon the American plan : and this, I 
 think, must be obvious to every one, who is able to take a view of 
 the English Clergy. They are appointed by the absolute 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 fre- 
 quently 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 two 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 given to Parson Gurney for his electioneering works in 
 Cornwall. And, indeed all over the country, they have been and 
 are the prime agents of the Boroughmongers. 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 the 
 
 190 
 
ANDJRELIGION 
 
 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 assembled in grand cohort the last time 
 that I 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 I saw a band of more 
 complete blackguards than I ever before saw in all my life. I then 
 saw Parson Baines of Extcn, standing up in a chair and actually 
 spitting in Lord Cochrane's poll, while the latter was bending his 
 neck out to speak. Lord Cochrane looked round and said, 
 " B. G — Sir, if you do that again I'll knock you down." " You 
 " be d — d," said Baines, " I'll spit where I like." Lord Cochrane 
 struck at him ; Baines jumped down, put his two hands to his 
 mouth in a huntsman-like way, and cried " whoop ! 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 been in the navy, he 
 never had seen a band of such complete blackguards. And I 
 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 infamous a manner. Mr. Phillips, of Eling, (now 
 Doctor Phillips) whom I saw standing in the room, I tapped on 
 the shoulder, and asked, whether he was not ashamed. Mr. Lee, 
 of the College ; Mr. Ogle, of Bishop's Waltham ; and Doctor 
 Hill, of Southampton : these were exceptions. Perhaps the. 2 
 might be some others ; but the mass was the most audacious, 
 foul, and atrocious body of men 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 person, 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 Lockhart. He kept capering about behind 
 him, and really seemed like a merry andrew rather than a 
 " spiritual per son. " 
 
 191 
 
GOVERNMENT, LAWS, ETC. 
 
 446. Such is the character of the great body of Hampshire 
 Parsons. I know of no body of men so despicable, and yet, what 
 sums of public money do they swallow ! It now remains for me 
 to speak more particularly of Baker, 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 surprize 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 ! 
 What a difference between the sober, sedate, friendly map who 
 preaches to one of these congregations, and the greedy, chattering, 
 lying, backbiting, mischief-making, 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 and black; 
 Feeder alike on flesh 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 resemble them are parsons here. I have some- 
 times 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 
 Parson'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, impudence, and cruelty are proverbial ; so 
 are those of the Parson. I 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 Parsons, and getting the people to 
 receive them and cherish them as the Bulwark of religion. 
 
 END OF PART II. 
 
PART III 
 
DEDICATION 
 To 
 TIMOTHY BROWN, Esq., 
 
 OF PECKHAM LODGE, SURREY. 
 
 North Hempstead, Long Island, 
 10 Dec. 1818. 
 My dear Sir, 
 
 The little volume here presented to the public, 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 181 6, 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, 
 and his desire to assist in providing a place of retreat for the 
 oppressed, which nothing but success 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 in- 
 habited globe. Here they cannot sell blood : they can only collect 
 information and calumniate the people of both countries. 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 performed a very laborious 
 journey to the Western Countries, and has been as far as the Colony 
 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 remembrance 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 acquaintance with me, when I was shut up in a 
 felon's jail for two years for having expressed my indignation at 
 seeing Englishmen flogged, in the heart of England, under a guard 
 
 195 
 
DEDICATION 
 
 of German bayonets and sabres, and when I had on my head a 
 thousand pounds fine and seven years' recognizances. You, at the 
 end of the two years, took me from the prison, in your carriage, 
 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 cord 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. 
 
 196 
 
PREFACE TO PART III. 
 
 849. In giving an account of the United States of America, it 
 would not have been proper to omit saying something of the 
 Western Countries, that 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 some- 
 thing left to be robbed of, and wishing to preserve it, are looking 
 towards America as a place of refuge from the Boroughmongers 
 and the Holy Alliance, which latter, to make the compact complete, 
 seems to want nothing but the accession of His Satanic Majesty. 
 
 850. I could not go to the Western Countries ; and, the accounts 
 of others were seldom to be relied on ; because, scarcely any man 
 goes thither without some degree of partiality, or comes back 
 without being tainted with some little matter, at least, of self- 
 interest. Yet, it was desirable to make an attempt, at least, 
 towards settling the question : " Whether the Atlantic, or the 
 " Western, Countries were the best for English Farmers to settle 
 " in." Therefore, when Mr. Hulme proposed to make a Western 
 Tour, I was very 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 estimating local ad- 
 vantages 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 pursues all his inquiries ; the urbanity 
 of his manners, which opens to him all the sources of information : 
 his inflexible adherence to truth ; all these marked him out as the 
 man, on whom the public might safely rely. 
 
 851. I, 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, addressed to Mr. Birkbeck. 
 
 852. The American reader will perceive, that this Letter is 
 intended principally for the perusal of Englishmen : and, there- 
 
 197 
 
PREFACE TO PART III 
 
 fore, he must not be surprised if he find a little bickering in a 
 group so much of a family cast. 
 
 Wm. cobbett. 
 
 North Hempstead, 
 
 10th December, 1818. 
 
 198 
 
A TSARS 'RSSIDSNCS 
 IN AMERICA 
 
 INTRODUCTION TO THE JOURNAL. 
 
 Philadelphia, 30th Sept., 181 8. 
 
 853. It seems necessary, by way of Introduction to the following 
 Journal, to say some little matter respecting the author of it, and 
 also respecting his motives for wishing it to be published. 
 
 854. 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 apprentices. By this 
 business, pursued with incessant application, I had acquired, 
 several years ago, property to an amount sufficient to satisfy any 
 man of moderate desires. 
 
 855. 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 attention. 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. I, therefore, looked seriously at the 
 situation of England ; and, I saw, that the incomes of my children 
 
 199 
 
INTRODUCTION TO THE JOURNAL 
 
 were all pawned (as my friend Cobbett truly calls it) to pay the 
 Debts of the Borough, or seat, owners. I saw, that, of whatever 
 I might be able to 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 enslaving us. This view of the matter 
 was sufficient to induce the father of nine children to think of the 
 means of rescuing them from the consequences, which common 
 sense taught him to apprehend. But, there were other con- 
 siderations, which operated with me in producing my emigration 
 to America. 
 
 856. In the year 181 1 and 1812 the part of the country, in which 
 I lived, was placed under a new sort of law : or, in other words, 
 it was placed out of the protection of the old law of the land. 
 Men were seized, dragged to prison, treated like convicts, many 
 transported 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. 
 
 857. Upon this occasion, my friend Doctor Taylor, most 
 humanely, and with his usual zeal and talent, laboured to counter- 
 act the works of Fletcher and his associates. The Doctor 
 published a pamphlet on the subject, in 1812, which every English- 
 man should read. I, as far as I was able, co-operated with him. 
 We went to London, laid the real facts before several members 
 of the two houses of Parliament ; and, in some degree, checked 
 the progress of the dealers in blood. 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, I would 
 pledge myself for the keeping of the peace in Lancashire. In 
 short, it was necessary, in order to support the tyranny of the seat- 
 sellers, that terror should prevail in the populous districts. Blood 
 was wanted to flow ; and money was given to spies to tempt men 
 into what the new law had made crimes. 
 
 858. From this time I resolved not to leave my children in such a 
 state of things, unless I should be taken off very suddenly. I saw 
 no hope of obtaining a Reform 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 command an army to compel 
 
 200 
 
INTRODUCTION TO THE JOURNAL 
 
 the people to surrender to them the fruits of their industry ; 
 and, in addition, a body existing under the garb of religion, almost 
 as despicable in point of character, and still more malignant. 
 
 859. I could not have died in peace, leaving my children the 
 slaves of such a set of beings ; and, I could not live in peace, 
 knowing that, at any hour, I might die and so leave my family. 
 Therefore, I 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, I 
 could not come to this country. Besides, I had great affairs to 
 arrange. In 1816, having made my preparations, 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. 
 
 860. I was well pleased with America, over a considerable part 
 of which I travelled. I saw an absence of human misery. I saw 
 a government taking away a very, very small portion of men's 
 earnings. I saw ease and happiness and a fearless utterance of 
 thought every where prevail. I saw laws like those of the old 
 laws 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 Ireland, here good, 
 peaceable, industrious citizens. I saw no placemen and 
 pensioners, riding the people under 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 
 people. I saw a Debt, indeed, but then, it was so insignificant a 
 thing ; and, besides, it had been contracted for the people's use, 
 and not for that of a set of tyrants, who had used the money to 
 the injury of the people. In short, I 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. 
 
 861. Therefore, in the Autumn of 1816, I returned to England 
 fully intending to return the next spring with my family and 
 whatever I possessed of the fruits of my labours, and to make 
 America my country and the country of that family. Upon my 
 return to England, 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, but to change slavery for 
 " freedom : give me freedom 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, 181 6, by that excellent man, 
 Major Cartwright. Nor was I unwilling to labour myself 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 Burdett so shamefully abandoned. In the meeting of 
 Delegates, I thought we went too far in reposing confidence in 
 
 301 
 
INTRODUCTION TO THE JOURNAL 
 
 him : I spoke my opinion as to this point : and, in a very few 
 days, I had the full proof of the correctness 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. If the paltry 
 Burdett had a hundred lives, the taking of them all away would 
 not atone for the pain he that day gave to Major Cartwright, not 
 to mention the pain given to others, and the injury done to the 
 cause. For my part, I was not much disappointed. I had no 
 opinion of Sir Francis Burdett's being sound. He seemed 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 perfectly right. I most sincerely hope, 
 that my countrymen 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. 
 
 862. After witnessing this conduct in Burdett, I set off 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 com- 
 pelled 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. 
 
 863. During the Spring and the early part of the Summer, of 
 1 8 17, I made preparations for the departure of myself and family, 
 and when all was ready, I bid an everlasting adieu to Borough- 
 mongers, Sinecure placemen and placewomen, pensioned Lords 
 and Ladies, Standing Armies in time of peace, and (rejoice, oh ! 
 my children !) to a hireling, tithe-devouring Priesthood. 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 country. There I 
 should have been in constant anxiety about my family. Here 
 I am in none at all . Here I am in fear of no spies, no false witnesses , 
 no blood-money men. Here no fines, irons, or gallowses await me, 
 let me think or say what T will about the government. Here 'I 
 have to pay no people to be ready to shoot at me, or run me through 
 the body, or chop me down. Here no vile Priest can rob me and 
 mock me in the same breath. 
 
INTRODUCTION TO THE JOURNAL 
 
 864. In the year 1816 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 money, 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 Countries. 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. 
 
 865. I have not the vanity to suppose myself eminently qualified 
 for any thing beyond my own profession ; but I have been an 
 attentive observer ; I 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 endeavoured to com- 
 municate to others. It was not my object to give flowry 
 descriptions. I leave that to poets and painters. Neither have 
 I attempted any general estimate of the means or manner of living 
 or getting money, in the West. But, I have contented myself 
 with merely noting down the facts that struck me ; and from 
 those facts the reader must draw his conclusions. 
 
 866. In one respect I am a proper person to give an account of 
 the Western Countries. I have no lands there ; I have no interests 
 there : I have nothing to warp my judgment in favour of those 
 countries : and yet, I have as little in the Atlantic States to warp 
 my judgment 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. 
 
 867. I have recommended most strenuously the encouraging 
 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 encourage- 
 ment and promotion would be greatly 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 manufactures 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. 
 
 203 
 
INTRODUCTION TO THE JOURNAL 
 
 868. Before I conclude this Introduction, I must observe, that 
 I see with great pain, and with some degree 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 
 believed by some, they will have little effect on persons of sense 
 and virtue. Truth will make its way ; and it is, thank God, now 
 making its way with great rapidity. 
 
 869. I could mention numerous instances of Englishmen, 
 coming 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 agricultural 
 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. 
 
 870. As to the manners of the people, they are precisely to my 
 taste : unostentatious and simple. Good sense I find every 
 where, and never affectation. Kindness, hospitality, and never- 
 failing civility. I have travelled more than four thousand miles 
 about this country ; and I never met with one single insolent or 
 rude native American. 
 
 871. I 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 unincumbered 
 with those noxious weeds, hireling priests. 
 
 THOMAS HULME. 
 
 204 
 
 
THE JOURNAL 
 
 872. PITTSBURGH, June 3.— Arrived here with a friend as 
 travelling companion, by the mail stage from Philadelphia, after 
 a journey of six days ; having set out 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 corv&es 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 Mountains, and which extends 
 from beyond the North East boundary of Pennsylvania to nearly 
 the South West extremity 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 
 I 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 
 constructed vehicles, and the capital old English horses, overcome 
 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 completed, the journey will be shorter in point of time, just one 
 half. A fine even country we get into immediately on descending 
 the Allegany, with very little appearance 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. 
 
 p 205 
 
JOURNAL 
 
 873. Very good accommodations for travellers the whole of the 
 way. The stage stops to breakfast and to dine, and sleeps where 
 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 1 I am sorry to say I 
 observed (or, rather, felt) this too often. Always good eating 
 and drinking, but not always good sleeping. 
 
 874. June 4th and 5th. — Took a view of Pittsburgh. It is 
 situated between the mouths of the rivers Allegany and Monon- 
 gahela, 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 thence and laid down in any part of the town for 7 cents the 
 bushel, weighing, perhaps, 80 lbs. Better coals I never saw. A 
 bridge is now building over the river, by which they will most 
 probably be brought still cheaper. 
 
 875. This place surpasses even my expectations, both in natural 
 resources and in extent of manufactures. 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 artisans and mechanics from all parts 
 of the world. There is scarcely a denomination of manufacture 
 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. 
 
 876. Price of flour, from 4 to 5 dollars a barrel ; butter 14 cents 
 per lb. ; 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. 
 
 877. 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 would 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 may be 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. 
 
 878. Just on going to push off the wharf, an English officer 
 stepped on board of us, with all the curiosity imaginable. I at 
 once took him for a spy hired to way-lay travellers. He began 
 
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 a talk about the Western countries, 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 regimentals, and 
 that of one thing I was certain, at any rate ; that I should find no 
 Sinecure placeman or pensioner in the Western country. 
 
 879. 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 curious contrast between the waters which form this river : 
 that of the Allegany is clear and transparent, that of the Monon- 
 gahela thick and muddy, and it is not for a considerable 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. 
 
 880. June nth. — 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 hazle-nuts. Stop at 
 Steubenville all night. A nice place ; has more stores than 
 taverns, which is a good sign. 
 
 881. June 8th. — Came to Wheeling at about 12 o'clock. It 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 cents 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. 
 
 882. June gth. — Two fine young men ioin 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 expences of these two young men in floating the 700 miles, 
 will be but 7 dollars each, including skiff and every thing else. 
 
 883. This day pass Marietta, a good looking town at the mouth 
 of the Muskingham River. It is, however, like many other towns 
 on the Ohio, built on too low ground, and is subject to inundations. 
 Here I observe a contrivance of great ingenuity. There is a strong 
 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 attached 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. 
 
 884. June 10th. — Pass several fine coal mines, which, like those 
 at Pittsburgh, Steubenville, Wheeling and other places, are not 
 
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 above 50 yards 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. 
 
 885. June nth. — A very hot day, but I could not discover the 
 degree of heat. On going along we bought two Perch, weighing 
 about 8 lbs. each, for 25 cents, of a boy who was fishing. Fish 
 of this sort will sometimes weigh 30 lbs. each. 
 
 886. June 12th. — 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. 
 
 887. June 13th. — Arrived at Cincinnati about midnight. 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-woods-man whom we had taken on 
 board some distance up the river, we might have floated ten or 
 fifteen miles without knowing it. This back-woods-man, besides 
 being of much service to us, has been a very entertaining com- 
 panion. 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, brought an action against him, but was cast and had to 
 pay costs. 
 
 888. June 14th and i$th. — 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. I could tell 
 that dirty hireling scout, that even in this short space of time, I 
 have had the pleasure to meet many gentlemen, very well in- 
 formed, and possessing great knowledge as to their own country, 
 evincing public spirit in all their actions, and hospitality and 
 kindness in all their demeanor ; but, if they be pensioners, male 
 or female, or sinecure place lords or ladies, I have yet come across, 
 thank God, no respectable people. 
 
 889. Cincinnati is a very fine town, and elegantly (not only in 
 the American acceptation of the word) situated on the banks of 
 the rivet, nearly opposite to Licking Creek, which runs out of 
 Kentucky, and is a stream of considerable 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 fragrant smell of which perfumes the air. 
 The town itself ranks next to Pittsburgh, of the towns on the 
 Ohio, in point of manufactures. 
 
 k 890. We sold our ark, and its produce formed a deduction from 
 
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 our expences, which, with that deduction, amounted to 14 dollars 
 each, including every thing, for the journey from Pittsburgh to 
 this place, which is upwards of 500 miles. I could not but 
 remark the price of fuel here ; 2 dollars a cord for Hickory ; 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. 
 
 891. June 16th. — Left Cincinnati for Louisville with seven 
 other persons, in a skiff about 20 feet long and 5 feet wide. 
 
 892. June ijth. — 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 I 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 
 they plough between with a one-horse plough. The grapes, 
 which are of the sorts of claret and madeira, look very fine 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 100 
 degrees. Each of these families has a farm as well as a vineyard, 
 so that they supply themselves with almost every necessary and 
 have their wine all clear profit. Their produce will this year be 
 probably not less 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 ! 
 
 893. June 18th. — Arrived at Louisvile, 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 appearance of the house that we stopped at being infested 
 with bugs, we resolved not to make any stay at Louisville, 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 ; large boats can then pass. 
 
 894. At Shippingport, stopped at the house of Mr. Berthoud, 
 
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 a very respectable French gentleman, from whom we received 
 the greatest civility during our stay, which was two night?, and the 
 day intervening. 
 
 895. Shippingport is situated at a place of very great importance, 
 being the upper extremity of that part of the river 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. Berthoud 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. 
 
 896. June 2.0th. — Left the good and comfortable house of Mr. 
 Berthoud, very much pleased with him and his amiable 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, I could not agree with him in applauding the Borough- 
 mongers of England for re-subjugating the people of France, and 
 restoring the Bourbons, the Pope, and the Inquisition. 
 
 897. Stop at New Albany, 2 miles below Shippingport, 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 couple of young men from the western part of 
 the state of New York, who are on their way to Tennessee in a 
 small ferry-boat. Their whole journey will, probably, be about 
 1,500 miles. 
 
 898. June 21st. — Floating down the river, without any thing in 
 particular occurring. 
 
 899. June 2,2nd. — 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 Manchester, Old England, and 
 had bought their little farm of 55 acres of a back- woods-man 
 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 confident that 
 their industry and economy v/ould not be frustrated by visits for 
 tithes or taxes. 
 
 900. June 23rd. — 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 now frequently 
 met and passed by large, fine steam-boats, plying up and down 
 the river. One went by us as we arrived here which had left 
 Shippingport 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. 
 
 901. June 2d.th. — Left Evansville. This little place is rapidly 
 
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 increasing, and promises to be a town of considerable trade. It 
 is situated at a spot which seems likely to become a port for 
 shipping to Princeton and a pretty large district of Indiana. I 
 find that the land speculators 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. 
 
 902. 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 neglect. Some of the 
 inhabitants, who prefer sport to work, live by shooting these wild 
 turkeys and pigs, and, indeed, sometimes, I understand, they 
 shoot and carry off those of their neighbours before they are 
 wild. 
 
 903. June 25th. — Arrived at Princeton, Indiana, about 20 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 store- 
 keepers 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. 
 
 904. June 26th. — At Princeton, endeavouring to purchase 
 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 enquiries 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 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. 
 
 $05. June 27th. — Still at Princeton. At last we get suited with 
 horses. Mine costs me only 135 dollars v/ith the bridle and 
 saddle, and that I am told is 18 dollars too much. 
 
 906. June 28th. — Left Princeton, and set out to see Mr. Eirk- 
 beck'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 began 
 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 
 
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 banks of the great Wabash, which is here about half a mile broad, 
 and as the ferryboat was crossing over with us I amused myself 
 by washing my dirty boots. Before we mounted again we hap- 
 pened to meet with a neighbour of Mr. Birkbeck's, who was 
 returning home ; we accompanied 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 immense 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 were 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. 
 
 907. Mr. Birkbeck's settlement is situated between the two 
 Wabashes, and is about ten miles from the nearest navigable water ; 
 we arrived there about sun-set, and met with a welcome which 
 amply repaid us for our day's toil. We found that gentleman with 
 his two sons perfectly healthy and in high spirits : his daughters 
 were 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 old log-house ; it reminds the grand children and 
 their children's children of what their ancestor has done for their 
 sake. 
 
 908. Few settlers had as yet joined Mr. Birkbeck ; that is to 
 say, settlers likely to become " society " ; he has labourers enough 
 near him, either in his own houses or on land of their own joining 
 his 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 Wabash ; 
 this he will re-sell again in 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. 
 
 909. The whole of his operations had been directed hitherto 
 (and wisely in my opinion) to building, fencing, and other 
 important preparations. He had done nothing in the cultivating 
 way but make a good garden, which supplies him with the 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 
 
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 other necessaries (the produce of the country), and therefore 
 employs himself much better in making barns and houses and 
 mills for the reception and disposal of 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 settler, 
 even without a dollar in his pocket, would have had something 
 growing by this time. Very true ! I do not question that at all ; 
 for, 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, and 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 lbs. dead weight), 
 that his youngest son is rearing up as pets. 
 
 910. 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 from the other 
 side, and then a rail is laid along between the 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 surprized, 
 until I reflect how universally and to what a degree, farming 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. 
 
 911. I was rather disappointed, or sorry, at any rate, not to find 
 near Mr. Birkbeck's any of the means for machinery or of the 
 materials for manufactures, such as the water-falls, and the 
 minerals and mines, which are possessed in such abundance by 
 the states of Ohio and Kentucky, and by some parts of Pennsyl- 
 vania. 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 
 overflowing with water of excellent quality. 
 
 912. July 1st. — Left Mr. Birkbeck's for Harmony, 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 
 
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 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 ; but, as it was useless 
 to go back again 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 John- 
 son'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 fiat 
 portion of land, which is sometimes overflowed : it is part of the 
 same river, and the land encompassed 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 thanked him, and pushed 
 on our horses with eager curiosity to see this far-famed Harmonist 
 Society. 
 
 913. On coming within the precincts of the Harmonites 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 bordering the town on the side we entered ; I wanted nothing 
 more than to behold this immense field of most beautiful 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. 
 
 914. 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. I 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 
 favourable. 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, porter, and even wine, all made within the 
 
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 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, 
 
 915. At sun-set all the people came in, from the fields, work- 
 shops, mills, manufactories, and from all their labours. This 
 being their evening for prayer 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 twinkling, the men at 
 one end of the Church and the women at the other ; it looked 
 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 whole 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 assistants 
 in his divine commission) converse on religious subjects. 
 
 916. Return to the Tavern to sleep ; a good comfortable 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 placed Boroughmongers, 
 and our sleep, I hope, much better than the tyrants ever get, in 
 spite of all their dungeons and gags. 
 
 917. July 2nd. — Early in the morning, took a look at the manu- 
 facturing establishment, accompanied by our Tavern-keeper. 
 I find 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 nothing 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 times over, by which they have been 
 able to move here and select one of the choicest spots in the 
 country. 
 
 918. 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 
 
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 as an explanation to the jumble of sense and absurdity in the 
 association. I will therefore trace the Harmonist Society from 
 its outset in Germany to this place. 
 
 919. The Sect had its origin at Wurtemberg in Germany, about 
 40 years ago, in the person of its present Pastor and Master, 
 George Rapp, who, by his own account, "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, finding no toleration for his inspired doctrines, 
 " or for those who adopted them, he determined with his followers 
 " to go to that part of the earth where they were free to worship 
 " God according to the dictates of their conscience." In other 
 words (I suppose), he had long beheld and experienced the slavery 
 and misery of his country, and, feeling in his conscience that he 
 was bom more for a ruler than for a slave, found himself im- 
 periously 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 considerable 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 
 hazard the discontent that might arise from want and fatigue in 
 traversing it at once. When they were all arrived, Rapp con- 
 stituted them into one body, having every thing in common, and 
 called the settlement Harmony. This constitution he found 
 authorized 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 that aught of the things he possessed 
 " was his own, but that they had all things common" Being thus 
 associated, the Society went to work, early in 1805, building 
 houses and clearing lands, according to the order and regulations 
 of their leader ; but, the community of stock, or the regular 
 discipline, or the restraints which he had reduced 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 sub- 
 stance 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 
 
 216 
 
JOURNAL 
 
 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 settlement 
 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 ware- 
 houses for their several species of goods ; constructed 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 
 Philadelphia goods to the country, and nearly 100 good dwelling- 
 houses of wood, a large stone-built tavern, 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 nothing else, and their 
 blacksmiths, tailors, shoe-makers, &c, when not employed by 
 themselves, were constantly at work for their neighbours. Thus 
 this everlastingly-at-work band of emigrants increased their stock 
 before they quitted their first colony, to upwards of two hundred 
 thousand dollars, from, probably, not one fifth of that sum. 
 What will not unceasing perseverance accomplish ? But, with 
 judgment and order to direct it, what in the world can stand 
 against it !* 
 
 920. 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 managed 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 
 better 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 navigable river on one side, while the possibility 
 of much interruption from other classes of Christians is effectually 
 guarded against by an endless barricado of woods on the other 
 side. Bringing the means and experience acquired at their first 
 establishment, they have of course gone on improving and in- 
 creasing (not in population) at a much greater rate. One of their 
 
 * A more detailed account of this society, up to the year 1811, 
 will be found in Mr. Mellish's Travels, vol. 2. 
 
 217 
 
JOURNAL 
 
 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 Orleans, carrying their own surplus produce and returning 
 with tea, coffee, and other commodities for their own consumption, 
 and to retail 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 Christian 
 " Religion." 
 
 921 . 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 direction of the society, the law- 
 giving power of which is in the High Priest. He cannot, however 
 make laws without the consent of the parties. The manufacturing 
 establishment, and the mercantile affairs and public accounts 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 conditions 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, 
 cov^s 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. 
 
 922. Here is certainly a wonderful example of the effects of skill, 
 industry, and force combined : this congregation of far-seeing, 
 ingenious, crafty, and bold, and of ignorant, simple, superstitious, 
 and obedient, Germans, has shown what may be done. But, 
 their example, 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 contempt : that is to sa} r , with regard to 
 the mass : with respect to their leaders, one's feelings are apt to be 
 stronger. A fundamental of their religious creed (" restraining 
 clause," a Chancery Lawyer would call it) requires restrictions 
 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 
 famously " 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 
 
 218 
 
JOURNAL 
 
 number within, while more are sure not to come in from with- 
 out ; and, I really am afraid he will go a good way towards securing 
 a monopoly of many great improvements in agriculture, both as to 
 principle and method. People see the fine fields of the Har- 
 monites, 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 surprized 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 children, nevertheless, as well as Parson 
 Malthus) and the Elders were to die, it not being likely that they 
 will renounce 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 possession of as fine a domain and as many 
 good things as the incorporated person of an Archbishop : nay, 
 he would rival the Pope 1 But, to my journal. 
 
 923 . Arrive at Princeton in the evening ; a good part of our road 
 lay over the fine lands of the Harmonites. 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 day. Their legs only a 
 little higher than their heads, and segars in their mouths ; a fine 
 position for business ! It puts my friend in mind of the Roman 
 posture in dining. 
 
 924. July T>rd. — At Princeton all day. This is a pretty con- 
 siderable 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 manu- 
 facturers to do for them. Pay 1 dollar for a set of old shoes to 
 my horse, half the price of new ones. 
 
 925. 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 unavoidable, if it really 
 can be 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 
 
JOURNAL 
 
 changeable are the affairs of this world ! I have not met with a 
 single Indian in the whole course of my route. 
 
 926. July 5th. — 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 sulphur, and called I.ick 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 ! 
 No tavern but this, nor house of any description, within many 
 miles. 
 
 927. July 6th. — Leave the Judge's, still in company with Mr. 
 Jones. Ride 25 miles to breakfast, not sooner 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 in 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. 
 
 928. July yth. — 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 
 I to myself, " this question, which has so long perplexed philo- 
 " sophers, 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 
 dealing 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 ! 
 
 92g. 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 300 lbs., and not fat. 
 
 930. July gth. — Dine at Mr. Overton's tavern, on our way to 
 Frankfort ; pay half a dollar each for an excellent dinner, with as 
 
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 much brandy and butter-milk as we chose to drink, and good feed 
 for our horses. In the afternoon we have the pleasure to be over- 
 taken by two ladies on horse-back, and have their agreeable 
 company for a mile or two. On their turning off from our road 
 we were very reluctantly obliged to refuse an obliging 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 gentle- 
 man from my own native town of Bolton, in Lancashire. But, 
 we had yet so far to go, and it was getting dark. This most 
 healthful mode of travelling is universal in the Western States, 
 and it gives me great pleasure to see it ; though, perhaps, I have 
 to thank the badness of the roads as the cause. Arrive at Frank- 
 fort, apparently a thriving town, on the side of the rough Ken- 
 tucky 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. I wonder the 
 governments of these states do not set about making good roads 
 and bridges, and even canals. I pledge myself to be able to shew 
 them how the money might be raised, and, moreover, to prove 
 that the expence would be paid over and over again in almost no 
 time. Such improvements would be income to the governments 
 instead of expence, besides being such an incalculable benefit 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 ? 
 
 Q31. July 10th. — 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 resi- 
 dence, situated near the centre of a very fine farm, which is just 
 cleared and is coming into excellent cultivation. I approve of 
 Mr. Clay's method very much, especially in laying down pasture. 
 He clears away all the brush or underwood, leaving timber enough 
 to afford a sufficiency of shade to the grass, which does not thrive 
 here exposed to the sun, as in England and other such climates. 
 By this means he has as fine grass and clover as can possibly grow. 
 I could not but admire to see this gentleman ; 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 a proof the decency 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 sentiment, between this lady and the wives 
 of Legislators (as they are called), in the land of the Borough- 
 mongers ! God grant that no privileged batch ever rise up in 
 
 Q 221 
 
JOURNAL 
 
 America, for then down come the mechanics, are harnessed them- 
 selves, and half ridden to death. 
 
 932. July nth. — 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, arid 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 porridge enough 
 to eat ; stout, fat, and ruddy. 
 
 933. July izih. — Hotter than yesterday ; thermometer at 91 
 degrees. 
 
 934. July i^th. — 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 manufactures are carried on here, but upon a 
 small scale. 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 lb. 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 Canada and come to Kentucky ; he has 300 
 dollars a year, and board and lodging. Made enquiry after young 
 Watson, but find he has left this place and is gone to Lexington. 
 
 935. The following is a list of the wages and prices of the most 
 essential branches of workmanship and articles of consumption, 
 as they are here at present. 
 
 Journeymen saddlers' price for 
 drawing on men's saddles 
 
 Journeymen blacksmiths, per day 
 per month 
 
 Journey men hatters (casters) 
 
 Ditto, rorum .... 
 
 Ditto for finishing, per month 
 and found .... 
 
 Journeymen shoe-makers (coarse) 
 
 Dolls. 
 
 Cents. 
 
 Dolls. 
 
 *i 
 
 25 to 
 
 2 
 
 1 
 
 . - 
 
 1 
 
 25 
 
 • ~ 
 
 30 
 
 1 
 
 . 2 S 
 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 30 
 
 75 
 
 
 Cents. 
 
 50 
 
 25 
 
 * Or, 5s. 7Jd. to lis. 3d. sterling. At trie present rate of ex- 
 change, a dollar is equivalent to 4s. 6d. sterling, and a cent is 
 the hundredth part of a dollar. 
 
 222 
 
JOURNAL 
 
 Dolls. 
 
 Cents. 
 
 Dolls. 
 
 Cents 
 
 i 
 
 25 
 
 
 
 3 
 
 25 
 
 
 
 5 
 
 
 
 
 i 
 
 . to 
 
 1 
 
 50 
 
 i 
 
 
 
 
 200 
 
 
 500 
 
 
 6 
 
 
 1 
 
 
 6 
 
 
 
 
 Journeymen shoe-makers {fine) . 
 Ditto, for boots 
 
 Journeymen tailors, by the coat 
 Stone-masons or bricklayers, per 
 day ..... 
 Carpenters, per day, and found 
 Salary for a clerk, per annum 
 Beef, per 100 lbs. 
 Flour, per barrel 
 
 936. July 14th. — 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 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. 
 
 937. July 15th. — To Maysville, or Limestone, 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. 
 
 g28. July 1 6th. — Hot still, but a fine breeze blowing up the river. 
 Not a bit too hot for me, but the natives say it is the hottest weather 
 they recollect in this country ; 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 flour, 6 
 dollars a barrel ; fresh beef, 6i cents, and butter 20 cents per lb. 
 
 939' July 17th. — Set out again, crossing the Ohio into the state 
 of that name, and take the road to Chillicothe, 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, upon 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 Indiana and Illinois. Travelling expences much less, 
 hitherto, than in Indiana and some parts of Kentucky ; we had 
 plenty of good butter-milk at the farm houses all along the road, 
 free of expence, and the tavern-keepers do not set before us bread 
 made of Indian corn, which we have not yet learned to like very 
 cordially. 
 
 223 
 
JOURNAL 
 
 940. July iSth. — Come to Chillicothe, the country improving 
 and more even as we proceed. See some very rich lands on 
 passing Paint Creek, and on approaching the Scioto river ; these, 
 like all the bottom lands, having a coat of sediment from their 
 river in addition to the original soil, are by far the richest. Chilli- 
 cothe is a handsome town, regularly laid out, but, stands upon a 
 flat. I hate the very sight 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. 
 
 941. July 19th. — Called upon Mr. Bond, being introduced 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. 
 
 94.2. July 20th. — 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 dragging 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. 
 
 943. I had some conversation with Governor Worthington 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 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. 
 
 944. July 21 st. — Leave Chillicothe. A fine, healthy country 
 and very rich land all the way to New Lancaster, 34 miles from 
 Chillicothe, and 38 from Zanesbille. 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. 
 
 945. 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 
 
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JOURNAL 
 
 county town of my native county ! I thought of Colonel F r, 
 
 and his conduct towards my poor, unfortunate townsman, 
 Gallant ! I thought of the poor, miserable creatures, men, 
 women, and children, who, 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 half-penny : 
 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. 
 
 946. July 2.2nd. — Arrive at Zanesville,* a place finely situated 
 for manufactures, in a nook of the Muskingham, just opposite 
 to the mouth of Licking Creek. It has almost every advantage 
 for manufacturing of all sorts, both as to local situation and as to 
 materials ; it excels Wheeling and Steubenville, in many respects, 
 and, in some, even Pittsburgh. The river gives very 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 
 machinery ! I should think that as much effect might be pro- 
 duced by the power here afforded as by the united manual labour 
 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, I 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 inexhaustible 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 manufactures, it is, like Wheeling and Steu- 
 benville, nothing in comparison to Pittsburgh. 
 
 947. Nature has done her part ; nothing is left wanting but 
 machines to enable the people of Ohio to keep their flour at home, 
 instead of exporting it, at their own expence, to support those 
 abroad who are industrious enough to send them back coats, 
 knives, and cups and saucers. 
 
 * For a more particular account of this place, as well, indeed, 
 as of most of the other towns I have visited, see Mr. Mellish's 
 Travels, vol. ii. 
 
 225 
 
JOURNAL 
 
 948. July 23rd. — All day at Zanesville. Spent part of it very 
 agreeably with Mr. Adams the post-master, and old Mr. Dillon 
 who has a large iron foundery near this. 
 
 949. July 24th. — Go with Mr. Dillon about 3 miles up the Creek, 
 to see his mills and iron-factory establishment. He has here a 
 very fine water-fall, of 18 feet, giving immense power, by which 
 he works a large iron-forge and foundery, and mills for sawing, 
 grinding, and other purposes. 
 
 950. I 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 I can rely upon. 
 
 Flour (superfine), per barrel of 
 
 196 lbs. from 
 Beef, per 100 lbs. 
 Pork (prime), per 100 lbs. 
 Salt, per bushel of 50 lbs. 
 Potatoes, per bushel 
 Turnips, ditto 
 Wheat, do . of 60 lbs . to 66 lbs 
 Indian Corn, ditto, shelled 
 Oats, ditto 
 Rye, ditto 
 Barley, ditto . 
 Turkeys, of from 12 lbs. to 20 
 
 lbs. each 
 Fowls 
 Live Hogs, per 100 lbs., live 
 
 weight 
 Cows (the best) 
 Yoke of Oxen, ditto 
 Sheep 
 
 Hay, per ton, delivered 
 Straw, fetch it and have it 
 Manure, ditto, ditto. 
 Coals, per bushel, delivered 
 Butter, per lb. avoirdupois 
 Cheese, ditto, ditto . 
 Loaf Sugar 
 Raw ditto 
 
 Domestic Raw ditto 
 Merino Wool, per lb. avoirdupois 
 
 washed 
 Three-quarter Merino ditto 
 Common Wool 
 Bricks, per 1000, delivered 
 
 226 
 
 Dolls. 
 
 Cents. 
 
 Dolls. 
 
 5 
 
 . to 
 
 5 
 
 4 
 
 . - 
 
 4 
 
 4 
 
 50 - 
 
 5 
 
 2 
 
 25 
 
 25 ~ 
 20 
 
 75 
 33i~ 
 
 
 
 25 ~ 
 
 . 
 
 
 5o 
 
 
 
 75 
 
 
 
 37i- 
 
 
 3 
 
 . - 
 
 5 
 
 18 
 
 . - 
 
 25 
 
 50 
 
 . - 
 
 75 
 
 2 
 
 50 
 
 
 9 
 
 8 
 
 12^- 
 
 I2l*- 
 
 5o" 
 
 31* 
 
 i8f 
 
 10 
 
 1 
 
 75 
 50 I 
 
 
 6 
 
 . to 
 
 7 
 
 Cents. 
 
 75 
 25 
 
 3ii 
 
 50 
 33i 
 
 50 
 
 m 
 
 IS J 
 
 25 
 
JOURNAL 
 
 Lime, per bushel, ditto 
 
 Sand, in abundance on the banks 
 of the river 
 
 Glass is sold in boxes, containing 
 ioo square feet ; of the 
 common size there are 180 
 panes in a box, when the price 
 is .... 
 
 The price rises in proportion 
 to the size of the panes. 
 
 Oak planks, i inch thick, per ioo 
 square feet, at the saw-miil 
 
 Poplar, the same. 
 
 White Lead, per ioo lbs. de- 
 livered 
 
 Red ditto 
 
 Litharge 
 
 Pig Lead 
 
 Swedish Iron (the best, in bars) 
 
 Juniatta, ditto, ditto 
 
 Mr. Dillon's ditto, ditto 
 
 Castings at Mr. Dillon's Foun- 
 dery, per ton 
 
 Ditto, for machinery, ditto, 
 per lb. 
 
 Potash, per ton 
 
 Pearl Ashes, ditto 
 
 Stone masons and bricklayers, 
 per day, and board and 
 lodging .... 
 
 Plasterers, by the square yard, 
 they finding themselves in 
 board and lodging and in 
 lime, sand, laths and every- 
 thing they use 
 
 Carpenters, by the day, who find 
 themselves and bring their 
 tools .... 
 
 Blacksmiths, by the month, and 
 found in board, lodging, and 
 tools .... 
 
 Millwrights, per day, finding 
 themselves .... 
 
 Tailors, per week, finding them- 
 selves and working 14 or 15 
 hours a day 
 
 Shoemakers, the same. 
 
 227 
 
 Dolls. 
 
 Cents. 
 18J 
 
 Dolls. 
 
 14 
 
 • 
 
 
 1 
 
 50 
 
 
 17 
 17 
 15 
 9 
 14 
 
 14 
 12 
 
 50 
 50 
 
 
 120 
 
 
 j 
 
 180 
 
 ; s 
 
 
 200 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 50 
 
 i8| 
 
 
 1 
 
 25 
 
 
 30 
 
 . to 
 
 40 
 
 1 
 
 50 - 
 
 2 
 
 7 
 
 
 9 
 
 i 
 
JOURNAL 
 
 Glazier's charge for putting in 
 each pane of glass 8 in. by 
 10 in. with their own putty 
 and laying on the first coat of 
 paint ..... 
 
 Labourers, per annum, and 
 found .... 
 
 The charge of carriage for ioo 
 lbs. weight from Baltimore to 
 Zanesville .... 
 
 Ditto for ditto by steam-boat 
 from New Orleans to Shipping 
 port, and thence by boats, to 
 Zanesville, about 
 
 Peaches, as fine as can grow, 
 per bushel 
 
 Dolls. 
 
 Cents. 
 
 Dolls. 
 
 . 
 
 4 to 
 
 
 ioo 
 
 . - 
 
 120 
 
 IO 
 
 • 
 
 
 6 
 
 5o 
 
 
 , 
 
 I2|— 
 
 , 
 
 25 
 
 Apples and Pears proportionately cheaper ; sometimes given 
 away, in the country. 
 
 951. 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. 
 
 952. July 25th. — Leave Zanesville for Pittsburgh, keeping to the 
 United States road ; stop at Cambridge, 25 miles. During the 
 first eight miles we met 10 waggons, loaded with emigrants. 
 
 953. July 2.6th. — Stop at Mr. Broadshaw's, a very good house 
 on the road, 25 miles from Cambridge. This general govern- 
 ment road is by no means well laid out ; it goes straight 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 I think it would that, too), if a view had been 
 had to the labour of travelling over these everlasting un- 
 evennesses. 
 
 954. July 27th. — 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 catastrophe, but, certainly, one not out of the man's 
 power to have foreseen and prevented ; it surprizes me that the 
 people will stick up their houses so near the water's edge. Cross 
 Wheeling Creek several times to-day ; it is a rapid stream, and I 
 hope it will not be long before it turns many water wheels. See 
 much good land 4 and some pretty good farming. 
 
 955. July 28th. — Went with a Mr. Graham, a Quaker of this 
 
 228 
 
JOURNAL 
 
 place, who treated us in the most friendly and hospitable manner, 
 to see the new national road from Washington 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 10 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 I 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 quantity 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 Boroughmongers 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 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 something 
 worse than the Red Sea overwhelm them 1 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 ! 
 
 956. They are building a steam-boat at Wheeling, which is to 
 go, they say, i8co 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. f Observing 
 this, I will suggest a plan which has occurred to me, and which, 
 
 * Trees tumbled head-long and fixed in the river, 
 t The same as a planter, only waving up and down, 
 229 
 
JOURNAL 
 
 I think, would provide against sinking, effectually ; but, at any 
 rate, it is one which can be tried very easily and with very little 
 expence. — I 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 partition, and 
 put a spur to the upright post. The partition should be water- 
 tight. I would then load the forepart 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. 
 
 957- July zgth. — From Wheeling, through Charlston, 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 
 independence, indeed, without coats to wear or knives or plates 
 to eat with ! 
 
 958. 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 Phila- 
 delphia ; I, 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, I 
 believe, very serviceable to this part of the country. If the 
 policy he so powerfully advocates 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. 
 
 959. By what I have been able to observe of this part of the 
 country, those who expect to find what is generally 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 dis- 
 appointed. 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 ac- 
 cording to circumstances. Few of the social amusements that 
 are practicable at present, are scarce ; dancing, the most rational 
 for eveiy reason, is the most common ; and, in an assemblage for 
 this purpose, composed of the farmers' daughters and sons from 
 zo miles round, an Englishman (particularly if a young one) 
 
 230 
 
JOURNAL 
 
 might very well think his travels to be 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 1 It may be a very pretty sight, but, 
 to see the dollars thus danced out of the country into the hands of 
 the Boroughmongers, to the tune of national airs, is a thing which, 
 if it do not warrant ridicule, will, if America do not, by one 
 unanimous voice, soon put a stop to it. 
 
 960. July 20th. — From Steubenville, crossing the Ohio for the 
 last time, and travelling through a slip of Virginia and a handsome 
 part of Pennsylvania, to Pittsburgh. 
 
 961. August 1st. — Sold my horse for 75 dollars, 60 dollars less 
 than I 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 
 neighbour of mine, having superintended some oil of vitriol works 
 near to my bleach- works on Great Lever, near Bolton, in Lanca- 
 shire. He now makes oil of vitriol, aquafortis, salts, soap, &c. 
 at this place, and is, I believe, getting rich. Spent a pleasant 
 evening with him. 
 
 962. 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. 
 
 963. 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. 
 
 964. August 4th, 5th, and 6th. — These three days traversing 
 the romantic Allegany Mountains ; got overturned (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 waggoners, set the 
 vehicle on its wheels again, adjusted our " plunder " (as some of 
 the Western people call it), and drove on again without being 
 detained more than five minutes. The fourth night slept at 
 Chamber sburgh, the beginning of a fine country. 
 
 965. August 7th. — Travelled over the fine limestone valley 
 before mentioned, and through a very good country 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. Hulme, an 
 Englishman, who had brought a large family and considerable 
 property to America. His property, he told me, the said Mr. 
 Hulme had got from the English Government, for the invention 
 of some machine, and that now, having got rich under their 
 patronage, he was going about this country doing the said Govern- 
 ment all the mischief he could, and endeavouring to promote the 
 interests of this country. After letting him go on till I was 
 
 231 
 
JOURNAL 
 
 quite satisfied that he depends mainly for his bread and butter 
 upon the English Treasury, I said, " Well, do you know this Mr. 
 " Hulme ? " " No, he had only heard of him." " Then I 
 "do, and I know that he never had any patent, nor ever asked 
 " for one, from the English government ; all he has got he has 
 " gained by his own industry and economy, and, so far from 
 " receiving 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 Parliament 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 dependent of that boroughmongering system which 
 has its feelers probing every quarter and corner of the earth. 
 
 966. August 8th. — Return to Philadelphia, after a journey of 
 72 days. My expences 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. 
 
 967. As it is now about a twelvemonth since I have been settled 
 in Philadelphia, 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 
 expences of my family for this one year, from the time of landing 
 to this day, inclusive. 
 
 Dolls. Cents 
 House-rent ...... 600 o 
 
 Fuel ....... 137 o 
 
 Schooling (at day-schools) for my 
 children, viz. : for Thomas, 14 
 years of age, ... 40 
 
 Peter and John, ages of 12 and 10 .48 
 
 Sarah, 6 years of age . . . 18 — 106 o 
 
 Boarding of all my family at Mrs. Anthony's 
 
 Hotel for about a week, on our arrival . . 80 o 
 
 Expences of house-keeping (my family fourteen 
 in number, including two servants) with every 
 other out-going not enumerated above, tra- 
 velling, incidents, two newspapers a day, 
 &c, &c. ...... 2076 66 
 
 Taxes, not a cent. . . . ..00 
 
 Priest, not a cent. .....00 
 
 Total 2999 66 
 
 968. " What 1 nothing to the Parson ! " some of my old 
 neighbours will exclaim. No : not a single stiver. The Quakers 
 manage their affairs without Parsons, and I believe they are as 
 good and as happy a people as any religious denomination who 
 
 232 
 
JOURNAL 
 
 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 
 common 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 Order in England receive 
 upwards of 40,000 dollars per annum for preaching probably not 
 more than five or six sermons during the whole year. Well may 
 the Cossack Priests represent Old England as the bulwark of 
 religion ! 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 establish in America, when 
 they^received the glad tidings of the restoration of the Bourbons 
 and 4 the Pope. 
 
 END OF THE JOURNAL. 
 
TO 
 
 MORRIS BIRKBECK, Esq., 
 
 OF 
 ENGLISH PRAIRIE, ILLINOIS TERRITORY, 
 
 North Hempstead, Long Island, 
 10 Dec, 1818. 
 My Dear Sir, 
 
 969. 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 I proceeded in the perusal, with fear and 
 trembling : not because I supposed it possible for you to put forth 
 an intended imposition on the world ; but, because I had a sincere 
 respect for the character and talents of the v/riter ; and because 
 I knew how enchanting and delusive are the prospects of en- 
 thusiastic minds, when bent on grand territorial acquisitions. 
 
 970. My apprehensions were, I am sorry to have it to say, but 
 too well founded. Your books, written, I am sure, without any 
 intention to deceive and decoy, and without any even the smallest 
 tincture of base self-interest, are, in my opinion, calculated to 
 produce great disappointment, not to say misery and ruin, amongst 
 our own country people (for I will, in spite of your disavowal, 
 still claim the honour of having you for a countryman), and great 
 injury to America by sending back to Europe accounts of that 
 disappointment, misery, and ruin. 
 
 971 . 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 deceive and decoy. You 
 do indeed describe difficulties and hardships : but, then, you 
 overcome them all with so much ease and gaiety, that you make 
 
 235 
 
LETTER TO 
 
 them disregarded by your English readers, who, sitting by their 
 fire-sides, and feeling nothing but the gripe of the Borough- 
 mongers and the tax-gatherer, merely cast a glance at your hard- 
 ships 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 pathless way9 through the wildernesses, 
 the dangerous crossings of the rivers ; but, there are the beautiful 
 meadows and rich lands at last : there is the fine freehold domain 
 at the end ! There are the giants and the enchanters to encounter, 
 the slashings and the rib-roastings to undergo ; but then, there 
 is, at last, the lovely languishing damsel to repay the adventurer. 
 
 972. 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, to emigrate with their property to the Illinois Territory. 
 Many have already acted upon the invitation. Many others are 
 about to follow them. I 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, I address the statement 
 to you, in order, that, if you find it erroneous, j^ou may, in the like 
 public manner, show wherein I have committed error. 
 
 973 • We are speaking, my dear Sir, of English farmers possessing 
 each two or three thousand pounds sterling. And, before we 
 proceed to inquire, whether such persons ought to emigrate to 
 the West or to the East, it may not be amiss to inquire 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 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. 
 
 974. Persons of advanced age, of settled habits, of deep rooted 
 prejudices, of settled acquaintances, of contracted 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 perfect 
 veracity, and a very sincere friend of freedom, and of you, and 
 whose information was given me, unasked for, and in the presence 
 of several Englishmen, every one of whom, as well as myself, 
 most ardently wished you success. 
 
 975. 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 
 
 236 
 
MORRIS BIRKBECK, ESQ. 
 
 " 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 mitigated 
 " or cured by the continual efforts of an elastic spirit, or to be 
 " borne, if incurable, with cheerful patience. 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 recollection of the past, he 
 " dwells on the good only. Such people are always bad associates, 
 " but they are an especial nuisance in an infant colony." 
 
 976. 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 illustration of the absence of that peevishness, which 
 you perceive 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 elasticity of spirit, all your 
 ardour of pursuit, all your compensations of fortune in prospect, 
 and all your gratifications of fame in possession, cannot with 
 patience hear the wailings of some of your neighbours, into what 
 source are they to dip for the waters of content and good-humour ? 
 
 977. It is no " every-day evil " that they have to bear. For an 
 English Farmer, and, more especially, an English Farmer's wife, 
 after crossing the sea and travelling to the Illinois, with the con- 
 sciousness 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." 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 worst ; 
 and, as to the future, 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. 
 
 978. It were much better for such people not to emigrate 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 im- 
 possible for any man of tolerable information to believe, that the 
 present tyranny of the seat-owners can last another two years. 
 R 237 
 
LETTER TO 
 
 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 motives for the emigration of many is said to be, that they 
 think a convulsion inevitable. Why should such persons as I am 
 speaking of fear a convulsion ? Why should they suppose, that 
 they will suffer by a convulsion ? What have they done to pro- 
 voke the rage of the blanketteers ? Do they think that their 
 countrymen, all but themselves, will be transformed into prowling 
 wolves ? This is precisely what the Boroughmongers wish them 
 to believe ; and, believing it, they flee instead of remaining to 
 assist to keep the people down, as the Boroughmongers wish them 
 to do. 
 
 979. 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 ack- 
 nowledge, 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." I may ask you, by the way, what noble institutions 
 she has, which are not of a 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, I 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." 
 
 980. But, leaving this matter, for the present, if English Farmers 
 must emigrate, why should they encounter 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 ? Why should they, at an expence 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 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 com- 
 fort of an American back-woods-man to overcome ? Why 
 should they do this ? The undertaking is hardly reconcileable 
 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 infancy, and every one of whom is ploughman y 
 carpenter, wheelwright and butcher, and can work from sun-rise., 
 
 238 
 
MORRIS BIRKBECK, ESQ. 
 
 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, I 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 was nursed? 
 An American farmer mends his plough, his waggon, 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. 
 
 981. Society ! What society can these people have ? 'Tis 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 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 number." But, 
 perhaps, I was wrong : for Aaron was of great assistance to the 
 leader of the Israelites. 
 
 982. As if the inevitable effects of disappointment and hardship 
 were 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 Germany and Prussia, where the wife is the 
 slave. But, as for a partnership sovereignty without disagree- 
 ment, there is but one single instance upon record ; that, I mean, 
 was of the two kings of Brentford, whose cordiality was, you know, 
 so perfect, that they both smelt to the same nosegay. This is, 
 my dear Sir, no bantering. I am quite serious. It is impossible 
 
 239 
 
LETTER TO 
 
 that separations should not take place, and equally impossible 
 that the neighbourhood should not be miserable. This is not the 
 way to settle in 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 do it. 
 And, which is the great thing of all great things, you have their 
 women for your women to commune with I 
 
 983. Rapp, indeed, has done great things ; but Rapp 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 the tabernacles of Harmony. At any rate, Rapp secures the 
 effects of celibacy ; first, an absence of the expence attending the 
 breeding and rearing of children, and, second, unremitted 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 
 composed of persons willing and able to forego the gratification 
 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 conceived the idea of putting 
 a stop to the procreation of children, for the sake of saving the 
 expence of bearing and breeding them ? This Society, which is a 
 perfect prodigy and monster, ought to have the image of MAM- 
 MON 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 barren- 
 ness on themselves, out of a pure love of gain, are the nearest neigh- 
 bours 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. 
 
 984. 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 have left behind 
 them ? " The fair Enchantress, 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 free- 
 dom 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 our Hampshire forests, may be free too. The English 
 farmer, in the Illinois, is, indeed, beyond the reach of the Borough- 
 mongers ; and so is the man that is in the grave. When it was 
 
 240 
 
MORRIS BIRKBECK, ESQ. 
 
 first proposed, in the English Ministry, 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. 
 Windham, 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 under ground 
 " at once ? " It was a remark enough to cut the liver out of the 
 hearers ; but Pitt and his associates 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. 
 
 985. If, indeed, the Illinois were the only place out of the reach 
 of the Borough-grasp ; and, if men are resolved to get out of that 
 reach ; then, I should say, Go 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 the acknowledged hardships of the 
 Illinois, how can a sane mind lead an English Farmer into the 
 expedition ? 
 
 986. It is the enchanting damsel that makes the knight encounter 
 the hair-breadth scapes, the 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 sentiment, 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 extensive. 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 expence 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 
 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 a shed : then rose to a log-house : and next to a 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 Corn-fields as I saw there. Yet nothing but the danger 
 and disgrace which attended their return to Connecticut prevented 
 their returning, though there they must have begun the world 
 anew. I 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 
 
 241 
 
LETTER 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 silver 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 sweet-meats, by wheel- 
 barrow loads ; for, though we were by no means shy, their hos- 
 pitality 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, if I, or, if such people as my old friends above-mentioned, 
 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 ? 
 
 987. All this I told you, my dear sir, in London, just before 
 your departure. I begged of you and Mr. Richard Flower both, 
 not to think of the Wildernesses. 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 ; where you would find every one to praise 
 the improvements you would introduce, and nobody to envy you 
 any thing that you might acquire. Where you would find 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 generous and hospitable than those in England can be, 
 loaded and pressed down as they are by the inexorable hand of the 
 Borough -villains. I offered you a letter (which, I believe, I sent 
 you), to my friends the Pauls. " But," said I, " you want no 
 
 ' letter. Go into Philadelphia, or Bucks, or Chester, or Mont- 
 ' gomery County ; tell any of the Quakers, or any body else, that 
 ' you are an English Farmer, come to settle amongst them ; and, 
 ' I'll engage that you will instantly have friends and neighbours 
 ' as good and as cordial as those that you leave in England." 
 
 988. At this very moment, if this plan had been pursued you 
 would have had a beautiful farm of two or three hundred acres. 
 Fine stock upon it feeding on Swedish Turnips. A house over- 
 flowing with abundance ; comfort, ease, and, if you chose, 
 elegance, would have been your inmates ; libraries , public and 
 private within your reach ; and a communication with England 
 much more quick and regular than that which you now have even 
 with Pittsburgh. 
 
 989. 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 fit to eat, and regard it 
 only as a thing fit for dogs. In this island every farmer has sheep. 
 I kill fattei- lamb than I ever saw in England, and the fattest 
 
MORRIS BIRKBECK, ESQ. 
 
 mutton I ever saw, was in company with Mr. Harline, in Phila- 
 delphia market last winter. At Brighton, near Boston, they 
 produced, at a cattle shew this fall, an ox of two-thousand seven- 
 hundred pounds weight, and sheep much finer, than you and I saw 
 at the Smithfield Show in 1814. Mr. Judge Lawrence of this 
 county, has kept, for seven years, an average of five 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 ! Can your Western Farmers beat that ? Yes, in extent, 
 as the surface of five dollars beats that of a guinea. 
 
 990. I 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. 
 
 991. Now, then, let us take a look at your estimate of the ex- 
 pences of sitting down in the prairies. 
 
 Copy from my Memorandum Book. 
 
 992. Estimate of money required for the comfortable establish- 
 ment of my family on Bolting House, now English, prairie ; 
 on which the first instalment is paid. About 720 acres of wood- 
 land, and 720 prairie — the latter to be chiefly grass : — 
 
 Dollars. 
 Second instalment . . . August, 18 19, 720 
 
 Third ditto .... August, 1820, 720 
 
 Fourth ditto .... August, 1821, 720 
 
 Dwelling-house and appurtenances 
 
 Other buildings ...... 
 
 4680 rods of fencing, viz., 3400 on the prairie, and 1280 
 
 round the woodland ..... 
 Sundry wells, 200 dollars ; gates, 100 dollars ; cabins 
 
 200 dollars ....... 
 
 100 head of cattle, 900 dollars ; 20 sows, &c, 100 
 
 dollars ; sheep, 1000 dollars 
 Ploughs, waggons, &c, and sundry tools and imple 
 
 ments . . . . . 
 
 Housekeeping until the land supplies us 
 
 Carried over 
 243 
 
 2,160 
 4,500 
 1,500 
 
 1,170 
 
 500 
 
 2,000 
 
 270 
 1,000 
 
 13,100 
 
LETTER TO 
 
 Dollars. 
 
 Brought over . . . . 13,100 
 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 
 Sundry articles of furniture, ironmongery, pottery, 
 
 glass, &c. ........ 500 
 
 Sundries, fruit trees, &c. . . . . . 100 
 
 First instalment already paid ..... 720 
 
 Five horses on hand, worth ..... 300 
 
 Expence of freight and carriage of linen, bedding, 
 
 books, clothing, &c. ...... 1,000 
 
 Value of articles brought from England . . . 4,500 
 
 Voyage and journey . . . . • 2,000 
 
 Doll. 23,820 
 23,820 dollars — £5,359 sterling. 
 Allow about 600 dollars more for seed and corn 141 
 
 £5>500 
 
 993. 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 45 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 ? 
 
 994. However, happiness is in the mind : and, if it be necessary 
 to the gratification of your mind to inhabit 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 Atlantic 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 
 
 244 
 
MORRIS BIRKBECK, ESQ. 
 
 allured by your captivating statements, and which statements be- 
 come 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 yourself, and then upon 
 others. All the disadvantages you state : but, then, you ac- 
 company the statement by telling us how quickly and how easily 
 they will be overcome. Salt, Mr. Hulme finds, even at Zanes- 
 ville, at two 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. 
 
 995. 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 fallacious, it tends to disappointment, 
 misery, ruin and broken hearts ; but it is open and honest in 
 intention, and it affords 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 of fine 
 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 become 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. 
 
 996. The statement, to which I allude, stands as follows, in 
 your tenth Letter from the Illinois. 
 
 997. A capital of 2000/. sterling, (8,889 dollars) may be invested 
 on a section of such land, in the following manner, viz. 
 
 Dollars. 
 Purchase of the land, 640 acres, at 2 dollars per acre. . 1280 
 House and buildings, exceedingly convenient and com- 
 fortable, 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 ..... 150° 
 
 Implements and furniture ..... 1000 
 
 Carried over . . . 6380 
 
 245 
 
LETTER TO 
 
 Brought over 
 
 Provision for one year, and sundry incidental charges . 
 Sundry articles of linen, books, apparel, implements, 
 &c, brought from England ..... 
 Carriage of ditto, suppose 2000 lbs. at 10 dollars per cwt. 
 Voyage and travelling expences of one person, suppose 
 
 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 expences of cultivation, in ad- 
 dition to the sums above stated. 
 
 Expenditure of first Year. 
 Breaking up 100 acres, 2 dollars per acre 
 Indian corn for feed, 5 barrels, (a barrel is five bushels) 
 Planting ditto ........ 
 
 Horse-hoeing ditto, one dollar per acre 
 Harvesting ditto, ij dollar per acre 
 Ploughing the same land for wheat, 1 dollar per acre 
 Seed wheat, sowing and harrowing .... 
 
 Incidental expences ....... 
 
 Produce of first Year 
 100 acres of Indian corn, 50 bushels (or 10 barrels) per 
 acre, at 2 dollars per barrel .... 
 
 Net produce 
 
 Expenditure of second Year. 
 Breaking up 100 acres for Indian corn, with expences on 
 that crop ...... 
 
 Harvesting and threshing wheat, 100 acres 
 Ploughing 100 acres for wheat, seed, &c. . 
 Incidents ...... 
 
 Produce of second Year 
 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- 
 
 Dollars. 
 6380 
 1000 
 
 1000 
 200 
 309 
 
 8889 
 
 200 
 10 
 
 25 
 100 
 
 150 
 100 
 
 175 
 240 
 
 1000 
 
 2000 
 
 1000 
 
 Net produce 
 
 485 
 350 
 275 
 290 
 
 1400 
 
 -3500 
 
 2100 
 
 246 
 
MORRIS BIRKBECK, ESQ. 
 
 Expenditure of third Year. 
 
 Breaking up ioo acres as before, with expences on crop 
 of Indian corn ....... 
 
 Ploughing ioo acres of wheat stubble for Indian corn 
 
 Horse hoeing, harvesting, &c. ditto 
 
 Harvesting and threshing ioo acres wheat 
 
 Dung-carting ioo acres for wheat, after second crop of 
 Indian corn. ....... 
 
 Ploughing 200 acres wheat, seed, &c. 
 
 Incidents ........ 
 
 Produce of third Year. 
 
 200 acres of Indian corn, 10 barrels per 
 
 acre, 2 dollars per barrel 
 100 acres wheat, 20 bushels per acre, 75 
 
 dollars per barrel. .... 
 
 Net produce 
 Expenditure of fourth Year. 
 
 As the third ....... 
 
 Harvesting and threshing 100 acres more wheat . 
 Additional incidents ..... 
 
 Produce of fourth Year. 
 
 200 acres Indian corn, as above 
 200 acres wheat 
 
 Net produce 
 Summary. 
 
 4000 
 1500 
 
 Dollars. 
 
 485 
 100 
 
 285 
 
 35° 
 200 
 
 330 
 2300 
 
 55oo 
 3200 
 
 2300 
 35o 
 
 2700 
 
 Dollars. 
 
 4000 
 3000- 
 
 -7000 
 4300 
 
 First year 
 Second 
 
 Carried over 
 
 EXPENCES. 
 
 Dollars. 
 1000 
 1400 
 
 2400 
 
 247 
 
 PRODUCE. 
 
 Dollars. 
 2000 
 35oo 
 
 5500 
 
LETTER TO 
 
 
 
 EXPENCES. 
 
 PRODUCTS. 
 
 
 
 Dollars. 
 
 Dollars. 
 
 
 Brought over 
 
 2400 
 
 55oo 
 
 Third 
 
 . 
 
 2300 . 
 
 5500 
 
 Fourth 
 
 . 
 
 2700 . 
 
 7000 
 
 18000 
 House-keeping and other 
 
 expences for four years . 4000 11400 
 
 Net proceeds per annum ...... 1650 
 
 Increasing value of land by cultivation and settlements, 
 
 half a dollar per ann. on 640 acres . . . . 320 
 
 Annual clear profit . . . 1970 
 
 998. "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 unintentionally deceiving 
 others and yourself too. But, really, there is in this statement 
 something so extravagant ; 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 intrinsic de- 
 merits. 
 
 999. I shall notice only a few of the items. A house, 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 at 1500. So 
 that, if this house of the farmer (an English farmer, mind) and his 
 buildings, are to be " exceedingly convenient and comfortable,''* 
 for 1500 dollars, your house and buildings must be on a scale, 
 which, if not perfectly princely, must savour 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, 
 
 248 
 
MORRIS BIRKBECK, ESQ. 
 
 if it be not cheaper here than with you, men would do well not to 
 go so far in search of high wages ! 
 
 iooo. 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 Englishman 
 believe such idle stories as this. To dissipate all such notions, 
 I have only to tell him, that the American 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 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 actually been brought from the Wabash, charged with 
 ten miles rough land carriage ; how far they may have come down 
 the Wabash I cannot tell. 
 
 iooi. Thus, then, the question is settled that building must be 
 cheaper here than in the Illinois. If, therefore, a house, 36 by 34 
 feet, cost here 6000 dollars, what can a man get there for 1500 
 dollars ? A miserable hole, and no more. But, here are to be 
 farm-buildings and all, in the 1500 dollars' worth ! A barn, 40 
 feet by 30, with floor, and with stables in the sides, cannot be 
 built for 1500 dollars, leaving out waggon-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 bargain, 
 all " exceedingly comfortable and convenient," may be had for 1500 
 dollars ! 
 
 1002. 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 contradict, or even question, my statements, 
 if you can. 
 
 1003 Do my eyes deceive me ? Or do I really see one hundred 
 and fifty dollars put down as the expence of " planting one thousand 
 " eight hundred rod of live fence ? " That is to say, nine cents, 
 or four pence half -penny sterling, a rod ! What plants ? Whence 
 to come ? Drawn out of the woods, or first sown in a nursery ? 
 Is it seed to be sown ? Where 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 ! 
 
 1004. Manure too ! And do you really want manure then ? 
 249 
 
LETTER TO 
 
 And, where, I pray you, are you to get manure for ioo 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 
 filling and for the spreading ? Ah ! my dear Sir, I can well 
 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 advice, you sincerely believed your land 
 would be already too rich, and that your main difficulty would be, 
 not to cart on manure, but to cart off the produce ! 
 
 1005. 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, whose 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 noticed an item or two of the produce. 
 
 1006. The farmer is to have 100 acres of Indian corn, the first 
 year. The minds of you gentlemen who cross the Allegany 
 seem to expand, as it were, to correspond with the extent of the 
 horizon that opens to your view ; but, I can assure you, that if 
 you were to talk to a farmer 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 would 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 rampant natural grass will be up before 
 your corn, and a man must go to a thousand hills to do half an acre 
 a day. It will cost two dollars to harvest a hundred bushels of 
 corn ears. So that here are about 400 dollars of expences on the 
 Corn alone, to be added. A trifle, to be sure, when we are looking 
 through the Transalleganian glass, which diminishes out-goings 
 and magnifies incomings. However, here are four hundred 
 dollars. 
 
 1007. 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 the four hundred waggon 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 
 
 250 
 
MORRIS BIRKBECK, ESQ, 
 
 to you, who have the meadows without bounds, this coppice must 
 be removed, if you please, before you plough for wheat ! 
 
 1008. Let us pause here, then ; let us look at the battalion, 
 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 expence 
 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 of 
 the Corn. 
 
 1009. But, what did I say ? Shell the Corn ? It must go into 
 the Cribs first. It cannot be shelled immediately. And it must 
 not be thrown into heaps. It must be put into Cribs. I have 
 had made out an estimate of the expence of the Cribs for ten 
 thousand bushels of Corn Ears : that is the crop ; and the Cribs 
 will cost 570 dollars ! Though, mind, the farmer's house, barns, 
 stables, waggon-house, and all, are to cost but 1500 dollars ! But, 
 the third year, our poor simpleton is to have 200 acres of corn ! 
 " Twenty more : kill 'em ! " Another 570 dollars for Cribs ! 
 
 10 10. However, crops now come tumbling on him so fast, that 
 he must struggle hard not to be stifled with his own super- 
 abundance. 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, and forty 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. 
 
 ion. Well, but Simpleton must bustle to get in his wheat. 
 In, indeed ! What can cover it, but the canopy of heaven ? A 
 barn ! It will, at two English waggon loads 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 stacks : 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 Harmonites into his service, and make 
 Rapp march 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 lose 
 
 t>y it. 
 
 251 
 
LETTER TO 
 
 1012. 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 advising others to bring 
 labourers from England, one would think you, for your own part, 
 able, like Cadmus, to make men start up out of the earth. How 
 would one ever have thought it possible for infatuation like this 
 to seize hold of a mind like yours ? 
 
 1 013. When I read in your Illinois Letters, that you had pre- 
 pared horses, ploughs, and other things, 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 fifty, upon an acre. 
 I saw your confusion, and participated 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 all growing ! 
 
 1014. 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 
 expectations and wrong conclusions. Come, now ! Confess 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. 
 
 1015. Great as is my confidence in your candour, I can, how- 
 ever, 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 impute 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. I 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 country, 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 industry and talent, and I 
 wished nothing for my country but its liberties and laws, which 
 say, that the people shall he fairly represented. England has been 
 very happy and free : her greatness and renown have been sur- 
 
 252 
 
MORRIS BlRKBECK, ESQ, 
 
 passed 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 cause 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 existed, and that this people 
 has been formed, under a government of king, lords, and com- 
 mons. Having this powerful argument of experience before me, 
 and seeing no reason why the thing should be otherwise, I have 
 never wished for republican government in England ; 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 nothing could be worse. But, if I am not a republican ; 
 if I 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 op- 
 pression ; 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. I am, my dear 
 Sir, with great respect for your talents as well as character, 
 
 Your most obedient 
 
 And most humble servant, 
 
 Wm. cobbett. 
 
 ! 53 
 
TO 
 
 MORRIS BIRKBECK, Esq., 
 
 OF 
 ENGLISH PRAIRIE, ILLINOIS TERRITORY. 
 
 LETTER II. 
 
 North Hempstead, Long Island, 
 iSth Dec. 1818. 
 My dear Sir, 
 
 1 01 6. Being, when I wrote my former Letter to you, in great 
 haste to conclude, in order that my son William might take it to 
 England with him, I left unnoticed 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, I wish 
 to discharge all my duties towards my countrymen faithfully ; 
 and, I know of no duty more sacred, than that of warning them 
 against pecuniary ruin and mental misery. 
 
 1017. It has always been evident to me, that the Western 
 Countries were not the countries for English farmers to settle 
 in : no, nor for American farmers, unless under peculiar cir- 
 cumstances. The settlers, who have gone from the New England 
 States, have, in general, been able men with families of stout sons. 
 The contracted 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 
 farmer a thousand pounds in wages. You will say, why cannot the 
 English labour as hard as the Yankees ? But, mind, I talk of a 
 family of Yankee sons : and, besides, I have no scruple to say, 
 that one of these will do as much work in the clearing and fencing 
 
 255 
 
LETTER fO 
 
 of a farm, and in the erection of buildings, as four or five English 
 of the same age and size. Yet, have many of the New England 
 farmers returned. Even they have had cause to repent of their 
 folly. What hope is there, then, that English farmers will 
 succeed ? 
 
 1018. It so happens, that J have seen new settlements formed. 
 I have seen lands cleared. I 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 existence 
 of any government, good or bad. 
 
 1010. New settlements, particularly at so great a distance from 
 all the conveniences and sweeteners of life, must be begun by 
 people who labour for themselves. 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 purchase with 
 more economy than you could, grow ! Indeed ! what ; would 
 the Indian Corn have cost, then, more than the price of the Corn ? 
 Untoward observation ; 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 uncultivated part. The labour, indeed, as all the 
 world knows, is every thing. All the other expences are not 
 worth speaking of. What, then, must be the gains of the Long 
 Island farmer, who sells his corn at a dollar a bushel, if you, with 
 labour at the Long Island price, can gain by selling Corn at the 
 rate of five bushels for two dollars ! If yours be a fine country for 
 English farmers to migrate to, what must this be ? You want no 
 manure. This cannot last long ; and, accordingly, I see, that you 
 mean to dung for wheat after the second crop of Corn. This is 
 another of the romantic stories exposed. In Letter IV you relate 
 the romance of manure being useless : but, in Letter 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. 
 
 1020. It is of little consequence what wild schemes are formed 
 
 256 
 
MORRIS BIRKBECK, ESQ. 
 
 and executed by men who have property enough to carry them 
 back : 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 your 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 supposed, 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 libeity 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 Americans who may chance to read it, and who are now 
 living happily in the Atlantic States. The letter is dated, 24th 
 of February > 1818, and the following are its words : 
 
 1021. " Dear Sir, — When a man gives advice to his friends, 
 " on affairs of great importance to their interest, he takes on him- 
 " self a load of responsibility, from which I have always shrunk, 
 " and generally withdrawn. My example is very much at their 
 " service, either for imitation or warning, as the case may be. I 
 " 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 difficulties, 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, I did 
 " not think favourably of your prospects : 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 disappoint- 
 " ments have assailed you, as I feared, and you 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 I think that 
 " will be the most delightful sensation you ever experienced ; 
 " 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 Philadelphia, 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 
 w your children, besides provisions, which you will furnish. 
 " Then the journey. Over the mountains to Pittsburgh, down 
 
 257 
 
LETTER TO 
 
 " the Ohio to Shawnee Town, and from thence to our settle- 
 " ment, 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 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 principal 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 reward 
 " 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 hundred. — 
 " 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 ioo Jbs., nearly sixpence sterling 
 " per pound. A few simple medicines of good quality are indis- 
 " pensable, such as calomel, bark in powder, castor oil, calcined 
 " magnesia, laudanum ; they may be of the greatest importance 
 " on the voyage and journey, a? well as after your arrival. — Change 
 " of climate and situation will produce temporary indisposition, 
 " but with prompt and judicious treatment, which is happily 
 " of the most simple kind, the complaints to which new comers 
 " are liable are seldom dangerous or difficult to overcome, pro- 
 " vided 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." 
 
 1 022. 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 frietid, or, at least, to an intimate acquaintance : 
 
 258 
 
MORRIS BIRKBECK, ESQ, 
 
 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 ! 
 
 1023. I will pass over the expences previous to this unfortunate 
 man and his family's arriving at the Prairies, though those expences 
 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 86 
 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, however, and now what are they 
 to do ? Thev are to have built for 50 dollars a house " EX- 
 "TREMELY COMFORTABLE AND CONVENIENT:"— 
 the very words that you use in describing the farmer's house, 
 that was to cost, with out-buildings, 1500 dollars ! However, 
 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 
 <v 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 hun 1 red ' 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 ' through,' 
 " for which there is a ' shutter,' made also of cleft oak, and hung 
 " on wooden hinges. All this has been executed by contract, and 
 " well executed, for tzventy dollars. I have since added ten dollars 
 " to the cost, for the luxury of a floor and ceiling of sawn boards, 
 " and it is now a comfortable habitation." 
 
 1024. In plain words, this is a log-hut, such as the free negroes 
 live in about here, and a hole it is, fit 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 fifty 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 con- 
 " venient and comfortable " hole i 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 Pennsylvania. You have seen nothing but the 
 smoke-dried Ultra-montanians ; and your project seems to be to 
 make the deluded English who may follow you rivals in the 
 
 259 
 
LETTER TO 
 
 attainment of the tawny colour. What is this family to do in their 
 50 dollar den t Suppose one or more of them sick ! How are 
 the rest to sleep by night or to eat by day ? 
 
 1025. However, here they are, in this miserable place, with 
 the ship-bedding, and without even a bedstead, 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 wrote 
 this letter, you '- ad all ready waiting for the 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 expences. Next 
 come two cows (poor ones) 24 dollars ; hogs, 15 dollars ; seed 
 corn, 5 dollars ; fencing, suppose 20 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 213 out of the 220 
 dollars, and this happy settler has seven whole dollars left for all 
 " other expences " : 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 republicans." 
 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 nakedness. 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 me 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 I Childish effeminacy ! 
 Oh ! unleavened bread for your life. Bread, 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 compelled to depend on your leave to 
 get it, and fetch it half a mile into the bargain. 
 
 1026. To talk seriously upon such a subject is impossible, 
 without dealing in terms of reprobation, which it would give me 
 great pain to employ when speaking of any act of yours. Indeed 
 such a family will be free : but, the Indians are free, and so are 
 the gypsies in {England. And I most solemnly declare, that|I 
 
 260 
 
MORRIS BIRKBECK, ESQ. 
 
 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 exchange England 
 for America, what in the name of common sense, should induce 
 me to go into a wild country, 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 ? 
 
 1027. You have, by this lime, 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 ! 
 
 1028. Mr. Hulme visited you with the most friendly feelings. 
 He agrees with you perfectly as to notions about forms of govern- 
 ment. He wished to give a good account of your proceedings. 
 His account is favourable ; but, his facts, which I am sure are 
 true, let out what I could not have known for certainty from any 
 other quarter. However, I do not care a farthing for the degrees 
 of goodness or of badness ; I 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 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. 
 
 1029. The grand ideas: about the extension of the empire of the 
 United States are of very questionable soundness : and they 
 become more questionable from being echoed by the Edinburgh 
 Reviewers, a set of the meanest politicians that ever touched pen 
 and paper. Upon any great question, they never have been 
 
 261 
 
LETTER TO 
 
 right, even by accident, which is very hard ! The rapid extension 
 of settlements 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 no 
 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 I know the people always will ; but, I am not sure, that 
 they will like internal taxes sufficient to rear and support a navy 
 sufficient to clear the gulph of Mexico of English 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 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 
 coast 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 attachment 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 Atlantic People 
 to feel little eagerness in promoting 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, I think it would have been good policy in the Congress not 
 to dispose of the Western Lands at all ; and I am sure it would 
 have been an act of real charity. 
 
 1030. Having now performed what I deemed my duty towards 
 my countrymen, and tov/ards this country too, I will conclude my 
 letter with a few observations, relative to mills, which may be of 
 use to you : for, I know, that you will go on : and, indeed, I most 
 sincerely wish you all the success that you can wish yourself, 
 without doing harm to others. 
 
 1 03 1. You have no mill streams near you ; and you are about to 
 erect a wind-mill. Man is naturally prone to call to his aid what- 
 
 262 
 
 
MORRIS BIRKBECK, ESQ. 
 
 ever 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, wondrous 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 we could do the thing we want done, with our own 
 hands. The story, in Peregrine Pickle, about the Mechanic, 
 who had invented a water machine to cut 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 ridiculous 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 a while, 
 at least. 
 
 1032. But, it is of a mill of more general utility, that I am now 
 about to speak to you ; and, I seriously recommend it to your 
 consideration, as well as to other persons similarly situated. 
 
 1033. At Botley I lived surrounded by water-mills and wind- 
 mills. There were eight or ten within five miles of me, and one 
 at two hundred yards from my house. Still I thought, that it 
 was a brutal sort of thing to be ob iged to send twice to a mill, 
 with all the uncertainties of the business, in order to have a sack of 
 wheat or of barley ground. I sent for a mill-wright, and, after 
 making all the calculations, I resolved to have a mill in my farm 
 yard, to grind for myself, and to sell my wheat in the shape of 
 flour. I had the mill erected in a pretty little barn, well floored 
 with oak, and standing upon stones with 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 a shed with a circular 
 roof erected on the outside of the barn. Under this roof, as well 
 as I recollect, there was a large wheel, which the horses turned 
 and a bar, go±ng from that wheel, passed through into the barn, 
 and there it put the whole machinery in motion. 
 
 1034. 1 have no skill in mechanics. I do not, and did not, know 
 one thing from another by its name. All I 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 ear.:- were never after dinned with complaints 
 about bad flour and heavy bread. It was the prettiest, most con- 
 venient, and most valuable thing I had upon my farm. It was, 
 I think, put up in 1816, and this was one of the pleasures, from 
 which the Borough- villains (God confound them !) drove me in 
 1817. I think it cost me about a hundred pounds. I forget, 
 whether I had sold any flour from it to the Bakers. But, inde- 
 pendent of that it was very valuable. I think we ground and 
 dressed about forty bushels of wheat in a day .• and, we used to 
 
 263 
 
LETTER 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 / know, that our grinding was done at 
 one half the expence at which it was done by the millers. 
 
 1035. The farmers and millers used to say, that I saved nothing 
 by my mill. Indeed, gain was not my object, except in con- 
 venience. I hated the sudden calls for going to the mill. They 
 produced irregularity : and, besides, the millers were not more 
 honest than other people. Their mills contained all sorts of grain : 
 and, in their confusion, we sometimes got bad flour from good 
 wheat : an accident that never happened to us after we got our 
 own mill. But, as to the gain, I have just received a letter from 
 my son, informing me, that the gentleman, a farmer born and bred, 
 who rents my farm in my absence, sells no wheat : that he grinds 
 all : that he sells flour all round the country ; and that this flour 
 is preferred before that of the millers. I was quite delighted to 
 hear this news of my little mill. It awakened many recollections ; 
 and I immediately thought of communicating the facts to the 
 public, and particularly to you. 
 
 1036. You will observe, that my farm is situated in the midst 
 of mills. So that, you may be sure, 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 wind- 
 mill, and now the fact is proved. For, observe, the mill costs 
 nothing for scite : it occupies a very small space ; it is inde- 
 pendent of wind and water ; no floods or gales can affect it. 
 
 1037. 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 constantly at work. And then, 
 it is so much more convenient than 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, there is great danger attending the management of it. My 
 project is merely a neat, close barn, standing upon stones that rats 
 and mice cannot creep up. The waggon comes to the door, 
 the sacks are handed in and out ; and every thing is so convenient 
 and easily performed, that it is a pleasure to behold it. 
 
 1038. 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 I have described. I had no Miller. My Bailiff, whom I had 
 made a Bailiff 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. 
 So that there is no mystery in the matter. 
 
 1039. This country abounds in excellent mill-wrights. The 
 best, I dare say, in the world ; and, if I were settled here as a 
 
 264 
 
 
MORRIS BIRKBECK, ESQ. 
 
 farmer in a large way, I would scon 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 of stock and a large family,) the very expence of sending 
 will pay for a mill in two or three years. 
 
 1040. I shall be glad if this piece of information should be of 
 use to any body, and particularly 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 clinking noise like the water-mills, I 
 know that the whole affair occupied but a small space. Mv barn 
 was about forty feet long and eighteen feet wide, and the mill 
 stood at one end of it. The man who made it for me, and with 
 whom I made a bargain in writing, wanted me to agree to a 
 specification 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 faith- 
 fully 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 waggons 
 
 1041. There is another thing, which I beg leave to recommend 
 to your attention ; and that 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 I 
 always bring my bed down to the ground-floor. Thatch is cool. 
 Cool in summer and warm in winter Its inconveniences are 
 danger from fire and want of durability. The former is no great 
 deal greater than that 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 in the counties of Dorset and 
 Devon, it will last thirty years ; and it is very beautiful. The 
 little town of Charmouth, which is all thatched, is one of the 
 prettiest places I ever saw. 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 laugh at the 
 work ! Let me digress here, tor a moment, to ask you if you have 
 
 265 
 
LETTER TO 
 
 got a sow-spayer ? We have no such man here. What a loss 
 arises from this ! What a plague it is. We cannot keep a whole 
 farrow of pigs, unless we 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 is hardly two degrees above rat-catching and mole- 
 catching : and yet there is no such person here, where swine are 
 so numerous, and where so many millions are fatted for ex- 
 portation ! It is very strange. 
 
 1042. 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 be 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 
 fifty 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, because there is no eddy proceeding 
 from their repulsion. They are generally put round those parts 
 of the garden where the hot-beds are. 
 
 1043. Now, the Broom-Corn far surpasses the reeds in all 
 respects. I 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. I have often talked of it in England as a good traffic. 
 We here sweep stables and streets with what the English 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 five shillings 
 sterling, and the freight cannot exceed two-pence or three-pence, 
 if sent without handles. I bought a clothes-brush, an English 
 clothes-brush, the other day for three shillings sterling. It was 
 made of a farthing's worth of alder zvood and of half a farthing's 
 worth of 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 send 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 
 
 266 
 
MORRIS BIRKBECK, ESQ. 
 
 would not. But, if well managed, it would produce a prodigious 
 crop of materials for reed-hedges and thatch. It is of a sub- 
 stance (I mean the main stalk) between that of a cane and that of a 
 reed. It has joints precisely like those of the canes, which you 
 may have seen the Boroughmongers' 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 ! I shall send some of the seed 
 to England this year, and cause a trial to be made ; and I 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 improve- 
 ments of all sorts. I am doing rny best to repay this country for 
 the protection 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 for- 
 gotten, or only remembered when my " trash " shall. 
 
 1044. 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 five feet : let the plants stand all over this foot wide, 
 at about three inches apart, or less. Keep the plants clear of 
 weeds by a couple of weedings, and plough well between the 
 ridges three or four times during the 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 the thickness of fine large reeds in England, and to about 
 twice the length ; and, I 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 3'ears. Only think of the price of 
 shingles and nails ! Only think of the cost of tiles in England ! 
 Only think of the expence of drawing 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 
 thing this would be upon the farms in England ! What a con- 
 venient 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, 
 
 267 
 
LETTER TO 
 
 and though the broom-part would not be of the best quality, it 
 would be a thousand times better than heath. The seed might 
 be sent from this country, and, though the Borough- villains would 
 tax it, as their rapacious system does EVEN THE SEEDS OF 
 TREES ; yet, a small quantity of seed would suffice. 
 
 1045. As an ornamental plant nothing equals this. The Indian 
 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, I never 
 could. My friends thought it too childish and whimsical a thing 
 to attend to. If the plant should so far come to perfection in 
 England as to yield the broom-materials, it will be a great thing ; 
 and, if it fall short of that, it will certainly surpass reeds for 
 thatching and screening purposes, 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, I should not wonder if they were to make the broom, like 
 hops, an article of excise, and send their spies into people's fields 
 and gardens to see that the revenue was not " defrauded?* 
 Precious villains ! They stand between the people and all the 
 gifts of nature ! But this cannot last. 
 
 1046. I am happy to tell you, that Ellenborough 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 sinful ? What defence have we, then, against tyranny ? 
 If the oppressor be not to experience the resentment of the 
 oppressed, let us at once acknowledge the divine right of tyranny ; 
 for, what has tyranny else to fear ? Who has it to fear, but those 
 whom it has injured ? It is the aggregate of individual injury 
 that makes up national injury ; it is the aggregate of individual 
 resentment that makes up national resentment. National re- 
 sentment is absolutely necessary to the producing of redress for 
 oppression ; and, therefore, to say that individual resentment 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 Militia men ; young fellows who had 
 been compelled to become soldiers, and who had no knowledge of 
 
 268 
 
MORRIS BIRKBECK, ESQ. 
 
 military discipline ; who had, by the Act of Parliament, been 
 promised a guinea each before they marched ; who had refused 
 to march because the guinea had not been wholly paid them : some 
 of these young men, 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 indigna- 
 tion in the strongest terms : and, for doing this, I was put for two 
 years into a jail along with men convicted of unnatural crimes, 
 robbery, and under charge of murder, and where Astlet was, who 
 was under sentence of death. To this was added a fine of a thousand 
 pounds sterling : and, when the two years should expire, bonds for 
 the peace and good behaviour for seven years ! The seven years 
 are not yet expired. I will endeavour to be of " good behaviour " 
 for the short space that is to come ; 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. 
 
 1047. 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 supply of paper-money. 
 They should have got my consent to let the paper-money remain ; 
 for, / can destroy it whenever I please. All sorts of projects are on 
 foot. " Inimitable Notes " ; paying in specie by weight of metal. 
 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 interest of the Debt : and even that 
 will not save the seat-dealers. 
 
 1048. In the meanwhile let us enjoy ourselves here amongst this 
 kind and hospitable people ; but, let us 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. 
 
 269 
 
POSTSCRIPT 
 
 RUTA BAGA ; or, SWEDISH TURNIP. 
 
 To the Editor of the Neze York Evening Post. 
 
 Hyde Park, Long-Island, 
 2d. Jan. i8ig. 
 Sir, 
 
 1049. My publications of last year, on the amount of the crops 
 of Ruta Baga, were, by many persons, considered romantic : 
 or, at best, a good deal strained. I 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 re- 
 member, if you did me the honour to read my Treatise on the 
 cultivation of this root (in Part I. of the Year's Residence), that I 
 carried the amount of my best Botley-crops no higher than one 
 thousand three hundred bushels to the acre. The following 
 interesting letter will, I think, convince every one, that I kept, 
 in all my statements, below the mark. Here we have an average 
 weight of roots of six pounds and a half. 
 
 1050. I beg Mr. Townsend to accept of my best thanks for 
 his letter, which has given me very great satisfaction, and which 
 will, I am sure, be of great use in promoting the cultivation of this 
 valuable root. 
 
 1 05 1. Many gentlemen have written to me with regard 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. 
 
 I am, Sir, your most humble 
 
 And most obedient servant, 
 
 Wm. cobbett 
 
 270 
 
"OsrscRipr 
 
 New York, Dec. 30, 181 8. 
 Dear Sir, 
 
 1052. I take the liberty of sending to you the following experi- 
 ments 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, I 
 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. 
 
 1053. 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 charcoal dust and twenty bushels of black swamp 
 mould, which was well harrowed in. About the oth 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 season. 
 Six seeds of the common turnip were by accident dropped into 
 the patch, and received the same attention 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 inches 
 into the ground, although the season was remarkably dry. 
 
 1054. 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-five bushels of turnips, 
 each turnip weighing from four to nine pounds. This, you 
 perceive, is at the enormous rate of 1000 bushels an acre ! 
 
 1055. It is Mr. Townsend's opinion, that on some of the soils 
 of Orange County your Ruta Baga may be made to yield 1500 
 bushels an acre. 
 
 I remain, with much respect, 
 
 Your obedient servant, 
 
 P. S. TOWNSEND. 
 
 William Cobbett, Esq. 
 
 Hyde Park, Long Island. 
 
SECOND POSTSCRIPT 
 
 Sir, 
 
 FEARON'S FALSEHOODS. 
 To the Editor of the National Advocate. 
 
 Hyde Park, Jan. gth, 1819. 
 
 1056. Before I saw your paper of the day before yesterday, 
 giving some extracts from a book published in England by one 
 Fearon, I had written part of the following article, and had pre- 
 pared 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 
 I beg the same favour at the hands of all those editors who may 
 have published Fearon's account of what he calls Ms visit to me. 
 
 I am, Sir, 
 
 Your most obedient, 
 
 And most humble servant, 
 
 Wm. COBBETT. 
 
 1057. 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. I 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 18 17, a young man came into the 
 hall, and introduced himself to me under the name of Fearon. 
 The following I find about him in my journal : — " A Mr. Fearon 
 
 272 
 
SECOND POSTSCRIPT 
 
 " came this morning and had 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. Toid 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. I 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 ; but 
 " it is too ridiculous ; such a thing as this cannot be a spy ; he 
 " can get access no where but to taverns and boarding houses." 
 
 1058. This note now stands in my journal or diary of 22nd 
 August, 1 8 17. 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 I 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." 
 
 1059. What I have heard of this man since, is, that he spent his 
 time, or great part of it, in New York, amongst the idle and dis- 
 solute young Englishmen, whose laziness and extravagance had 
 put them in a state to make them uneasy, and to make them un- 
 noticed by respectable people. That country must be bad, to 
 be sure, which would not give them ease and abundance without 
 labour or economy. 
 
 1060. Now, what can such a man know of America ? He has 
 not kept house ; he has had no being in any neighbourhood ; he 
 has never had any circle of acquaintances 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 be a judge of the effects of their institutions, civil, political, 
 or religious ? 
 
 1 06 1. I have no doubt, however, that the reviews and news- 
 papers, 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 strumpets, and 
 that the greater part of them had bastards before they were married. 
 Now, if the people of America 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. 
 
 1062. As to the facts of this man's visit to me, my son William, 
 
 273 
 
SECOND POSTSCRIPT 
 
 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. 
 
 1063. Since writing the above, the New York papers have 
 brought me a specimen of Mr. Fearon's performance. I shall 
 notice only his account of his visit to me. It is in the following 
 words : 
 
 1064. " 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 decay, added to much awkwardness of 
 " feeling on my part, calling upon an entire stranger, produced 
 " in my mind feelings of though tfulness 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?' 
 cc But these difficulties ceased almost with their existence. A 
 ' ' female servant (an English woman) informed me that her master 
 " was from home, attending at the county court. Her language 
 " was 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 pre- 
 " viously 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, c Are you an American, sir ?' then, ' What were my 
 " ' objects 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 American people, but spoke highly of the economy 
 " of their government. — He does not advise persons in respectable 
 " 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 I had seen this well- 
 " known character, I viewed him with no ordinary 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 atten- 
 " tive ; 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 
 
 274 
 
SECOND POSTSCRIPT 
 
 " eventually destined to be the Atlas of the British nation. His 
 " faculty of 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 dictation. ' Obey me, and I will treat 
 " 'you kindly ; if you do not, I will trample on you,' seemed 
 " visible in every word and feature. He appears to feel, in its 
 " fullest force, the sentiment, 
 
 'I have no brother, am like no brother: 
 'I am myself alone.' " 
 
 1065. It is unlucky for this blade, that the parties are alive. 
 First — let the " English woman " speak for herself, which she does, 
 in these words : 
 
 1066. I remembr; , 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. I 
 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. I had no talk with 
 him. I could not know what condition Mr. Cobbett found the 
 house in, for I 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 ; 
 I 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, 
 8th January, 1819. 
 
 1067. Mrs. Churcher puts me in mind, that I asked her what 
 sort of a looking man it was, and that she said he looked like an 
 Exciseman, and that Churcher exclaimed : " Why, you fool, 
 " they don't have any Excisemen and such fellows here ! " — I 
 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 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, 
 
 375 
 
SECOND POSTSCRIPT 
 
 and not a single draw-back. 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 I should give a chap like this my opinions about 
 government or people I 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 I had been familiar enough to relate anecdotes to him ? 
 Such blades are not backward in renewing their visits whenever 
 they get but a little encouragement. — He, in another part of the 
 extracts 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 foi>m.e 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 conversation of a few minutes v/ith an utter 
 stranger, and that, too, a blade whom I took for a decent tailor, 
 my son William for a shop-keeper'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 
 coming here to live at free quarter ? The black woman's hut, 
 indeed, he might force himself into with impunity ; sixpence 
 would insure him a reception there ; but, it would be a shame, 
 indeed, if such a man could be admitted to unreserved intercourse 
 with American ladies. Slippery 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. 
 
University of 
 Connecticut 
 
 Libraries 
 
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