XV.
PLOWING – GOOD AND BAD
There are so many wrong ways to do a thing to but one right one that there is no reason in the impatience too often evinced with those who contrive to swallow the truth wrong end foremost, and thereupon insist that it won't do. For instance: A farmer hears something said of deep plowing, and, without any clear understanding of or firm faith in it, resolves to give it a trial. So he buys a great plow, makes up a strong team, and proceeds to turn up a field hitherto plowed but six inches to a depth of a foot: in other words, to bury its soil under six inches of cold, sterile clay, sand, or gravel. On this, he plants or sows grain, and is lucky indeed if he realizes half a crop. Hereupon, he reports to his neighbors that Deep Plowing is a humbug, as he suspected all along; but now he knows, for he has tried it. There are several other wrong ways, which I will hurry over, in order to set forth that which I regard as the right one.
Here is a middling farmer of the old school, who walks carefully in the footsteps of his respected grandfather, but with inferior success, because sixty annual harvests, though not particularly luxuriant, have partially exhausted the productive capacity of the acres he inherited. He now garners from fifteen to thirty bushels per acre of Corn, from ten to twenty of Wheat, from fifteen to twenty of Rye, from twenty to thirty of Oats, and from a tun to a tun and a half of Hay, as the season proves more or less propitious, and just contrives to draw from his sixty to one hundred acres a decent subsistence for his family; plowing, as his father and grandfather did, to a depth of five to seven inches: What can Deep Plowing do for him?
I answer – By itself, nothing whatever. If in every other respect he is to persist in doing just as his father and his grandfather did, I doubt the expediency of doubling the depth of his furrows. True, the worst effects of the change would be realized at the outset, and I feel confident that his six inches of subsoil, having been made to change places with that which formerly rested upon it, must gradually be wrought upon by air, and rain, and frost, until converted into a tolerably productive soil, through which the roots of most plants would easily and speedily make their way down to the richer stratum which, originally surface, has been transposed into subsoil. But this exchange of positions between the original surface and subsoil is not what I mean by Deep Plowing, nor anything like it. What I do mean is this:
Having thoroughly underdrained a field, so that water will not stand upon any part of its surface, no matter how much may there be deposited, the next step in order is to increase the depth of the soil. To this end, procure a regular sub-soil plow of the most approved pattern, attach to it a strong team, and let it follow the breaking-plow in its furrow, lifting and pulverizing the sub-soil to a depth of not less than six inches, but leaving it in position exactly where it was. The surface-plow turns the next furrow upon this loosened sub-soil, and so on till the whole field is thus pulverized to a depth of not less than twelve inches, or, better still, fifteen. Now, please remember that you have twice as much soil per acre to fertilize as there was before; hence, that it consequently requires twice as much manure, and you will have laid a good foundation for increased crops. I do not say that all the additional outlay will be returned to you in the increase of your next crop, for I do not believe anything of the sort; but I do believe that this crop will be considerably larger for this generous treatment, especially if the season prove remarkably dry or uncommonly wet; and that you will have insured better crops in the years to come, including heavier grass, after that field shall once more be laid down; and that, in case of the planting of that field to fruit or other trees, they will grow faster, resist disease better, and thrive longer, than if the soil were still plowed as of old. (I shall insist hereafter on the advantage and importance of subsoiling orchards.)
Take another aspect – that of subsoiling hill-sides to prevent their abrasion by water:
I have two bits of warm, gravelly hill-side, which bountifully yield Corn, Wheat and Oats, but which are addicted to washing. I presume one of these bits, at the south-east corner of my farm, has been plowed and planted not less than one hundred times, and that at least half the fertilizers applied to it have been washed into the brook, and hence into the Hudson. To say that $1,000 have thus been squandered on that patch of ground, would be to keep far within the truth. And, along with the fertilizers, a large portion of the finer and better elements of the original soil have thus been swept into the brook, and so lavished upon the waters of our bay. But, since I had those lots thoroughly subsoiled, all the water that falls upon them when in tillage sinks into the soil, and remains there until drained away by filtration or evaporation; and I never saw a particle of soil washed from either save once, when a thaw of one or two inches on the surface, leaving the ground solidly frozen beneath, being quickly followed by a pouring rain, washed away a few bushels of the loosened and sodden surface, proving that the law by virtue of which these fields were formerly denuded while in cultivation is still active, and that Deep Plowing is an effective and all but unfailing antidote for the evil it tends to incite.
We plow too many acres annually, and do not plow them so thoroughly as we ought. In the good time coming, when Steam shall have been so harnessed to a gang of six to twelve plows that, with one man guiding and firing, it will move as fast as a man ought to walk, steaming on and thoroughly pulverizing from twelve to twenty-five acres per day, I believe we shall plow at least two feet deep, and plow not less than twice before putting in any crop whatever. Then we may lay down a field in the confident trust that it will yield from two and a half to three tuns of good hay per annum for the next ten or twelve years; while, by the help of irrigation and occasional top-dressing, it may be made to average at least three tuns for a life-time, if not forever.
When my Grass-land requires breaking up – as it sometimes does – I understand that it was not properly laid down, or has not been well treated since. A good grazing farmer once insisted in my hearing that grass-land should never be plowed – that the vegetable mold forming the surface, when the timber was first cut off; should remain on the surface forever. Considering how uneven the stumps and roots and cradle-knolls of a primitive forest are apt to leave the ground, I judge that this is an extreme statement. But land once thoroughly plowed and subsoiled ought thereafter to be kept in grass by liberal applications of Gypsum, well-cured Muck, and barn-yard Manure to its surface, without needing to be plowed again and reseeded. Put back in Manure what is taken of in Hay, and the Grass should hold its own.
XVI.
THOROUGH TILLAGE
My little, hilly, rocky farm teaches lessons of thoroughness which I would gladly impart to the boys of to-day who are destined to be the farmers of the last quarter of this century. I am sure they will find profit in farming better than their grandfathers did, and especially in putting their land into the best possible condition for effective tillage. There were stones in my fields varying in size from that of a brass kettle up to that of a hay-cock – some of them raising their heads above the surface, others burrowing just below it – which had been plowed around and over perhaps a hundred times, till I went at them with team and bar, or (where necessary) with drill and blast, turned or blew them out, and hauled them away, so that they will interfere with cultivation nevermore. I insist that this is a profitable operation – that a field which will not pay for such clearing should be planted with trees and thrown out of cultivation conclusively. Dodging and skulking from rock to rock is hard upon team, plow, and plowman; and it can rarely pay. Land ribbed and spotted with fast rocks will pay if judiciously planted with Timber – possibly if well set in Fruit – but tilling it from year to year is a thankless task; and its owner may better work by the day for his neighbors than try to make his bread by such tillage.
So with fields soaked by springs or sodden with stagnant water. If you say you cannot afford to drain your wet land, I respond that you can still less afford to till it without draining. If you really cannot afford to fit it for cultivation, your next best course is to let it severely alone.
A poor man who has a rough, rugged, sterile farm, which he is unable to bring to its best possible condition at once, yet which he clings to and must live from, should resolve that, if life and health be spared him, he will reclaim one field each year until all that is not devoted to timber shall have been brought into high condition. When his Summer harvest is over, and his Fall crops have received their last cultivation, there will generally be from one to two Autumn months which he can devote mainly to this work. Let him take hold of it with resolute purpose to improve every available hour, not by running over the largest possible area, but by dealing with one field so thoroughly that it will need no more during a long life-time. If it has stone that the plow will reach, dig them out; if it needs draining, drain it so thoroughly that it may hereafter be plowed in Spring so soon as the frost leaves it; and now let soil and subsoil be so loosened and pulverized that roots may freely penetrate them to a depth of fifteen to twenty inches, finding nourishment all the way, with incitement to go further if ever failing moisture shall render this necessary. Drouth habitually shortens our Fall crops from ten to fifty per cent.; it is sure to injure us more gravely as our forests are swept away by ax and fire; and, while much may be done to mitigate its ravages by enriching the soil so as to give your crops an early start, and a rank, luxuriant growth, the farmer's chief reliance must still be a depth of soil adequate to withstand weeks of the fiercest sunshine.
I have considered what is urged as to the choice of roots to run just beneath the surface, and it does not signify. Roots seek at once heat and moisture; if the moisture awaits them close to the surface, of course they mainly run there, because the heat is there greatest. If moisture fails there, they must descend to seek it, even at the cost of finding the heat inadequate – though heat increases and descends under the fervid suns which rob the surface of moisture. Make the soil rich and mellow ever so far down, and you need not fear that the roots will descend an inch lower than they should. They understand their business; it is your sagacity that may possibly prove deficient.
I suspect that the average farmer does far too little plowing – by which I mean, not that he plows too few acres, for he often plows too many, but that he should plow oftener as well as deeper and more thoroughly. I spent three or four of my boyish Summers planting and tilling Corn and Potatoes on fields broken up just before they were planted, never cross-plowed, and of course tough and intractable throughout the season. The yield of Corn was middling, considering the season; that of Potatoes more than middling; yet, if those fields had been well plowed in the previous Autumn, cross-plowed early in the Spring; and thoroughly harrowed just before planting-time, I am confident that the yield would have been far greater, and the labor (save in harvesting) rather less – the cost of the Fall plowing being over-balanced by the saving of half the time necessarily given to the planting and hoeing.
Fall Plowing has this recommendation – it lightens labor at the busier season, by transferring it to one of comparative dullness. I may have said that I consider him a good farmer who knows how to make a rainy day equally effective with one that is dry and fair; and, in the same spirit, I count him my master in this art who can make a day's work in Autumn or Winter save a day's work in Spring or Summer. Show me a farmer who has no land plowed when May opens, and is just waking up to a consciousness that his fences need mending and his trees want trimming, and I will guess that the sheriff will be after him before May comes round again.
There is no superstition in the belief that land is (or may be) enriched by Fall Plowing. The Autumn gales are freighted with the more volatile elements of decaying vegetation. These, taken up wherever they are given of in excess, are wafted to and deposited in the soils best fitted for their reception. Regarded simply as a method of fertilizing, I do not say that Fall Plowing is the cheapest; I do say that any poor field, if well plowed in the Fall, will be in better heart the next Spring, for what wind and rain will meantime have deposited thereon. Frost, too, in any region where the ground freezes, and especially where it freezes and thaws repeatedly, plays an important and beneficial part in aerating and pulverizing a freshly plowed soil, especially one thrown up into ridges, so as to be most thoroughly exposed to the action of the more volatile elements. The farmer who has a good team may profitably keep the plow running in Autumn until every rood that he means to till next season has been thoroughly pulverized.
In this section, our minute chequer-work of fences operates to obstruct and impede Plowing. Our predecessors wished to clear their fields, at least superficially, of the loose, troublesome bowlders of granite wherewith they were so thickly sown; they mistakenly fancied that they could lighten their own toil by sending their cattle to graze, browse, and gnaw, wherever a crop was not actually on the ground; so they fenced their farms into patches of two or ten acres, and thought they had thereby increased their value! That was a sad miscalculation. Weeds, briars and bushes were sheltered, and nourished by these walls; weasels, rats and other destructive animals, found protection and impunity therein; a wide belt on either side was made useless or worse; while Plowing was rendered laborious, difficult, and inefficient, by the necessity of turning after every few hundred steps. We are growing slowly wiser, and burying a part of these walls, or building them into concrete barns or other useful structures; but they are still far too plentiful, and need to be dealt with more sternly. O squatter on a wide prairie, on the bleak Plains, or in a broad Pacific valley, where wood must be hauled for miles and loose stone are rarely visible, thank God for the benignant dispensation which has precluded you from half spoiling your farm by a multiplicity of obstructing, deforming, fences, and so left its soil free and open to be everywhere pervaded, loosened, permeated, by the renovating Plow!
XVII.
COMMERCIAL FERTILIZERS – GYPSUM
Prices vary so widely in different localities that no fertilizer can be pronounced everywhere cheapest or best worth buying; and yet I doubt that there is a rood of our country's surface in fit condition to be cultivated to which Gypsum (Plaster of Paris) might not be applied with profit. Where it costs $10 or over per tun, I would apply it sparingly – say, one bushel per acre – while I judge three bushels per acre none too much in regions where it may be bought much cheaper. Even the poor man who has but one cow, should buy a barrel of it, and dust his stable therewith after cleaning it each day. He who has a stock of cattle should never be without it, and should freely use it, alike in stable and yard, to keep down the noisome odors, and thus retain the volatile elements of the manure. Every meadow, every pasture, should be sown with it at least triennially; where it is abundant and cheap, as in Central New-York, I would apply it each year, unless careful observation should satisfy me that it no longer subserved a good purpose.
As to the time of application, while I judge any season will do, my present impression is that it will do most good if applied when the Summer is hottest and the ground driest. If, for instance, you close your haying in mid-Summer, having been hurried by the rapid ripening of the grass, and find your meadows baked and cracked by the intense heat, I reckon that you may proceed to dust those meadows with Gypsum with a moral certainty that none of it will be wasted. So if your Corn and other Fall crops are suffering from and likely to be stunted by drouth, I advise the application of Gypsum broadcast, as evenly as may be and as bounteously as its price and your means will allow. I do not believe it so well to apply it specially to the growing stalks, a spoon-full or so per hill; and I doubt that it is ever judicious to plant it in the hill with the seed. The readiest and quickest mode of application is also, I believe, the best.
How Gypsum impels and invigorates vegetable growth, I do not pretend to know; but that it does so was demonstrated by Nature long before Man took the hint that she freely gave. The city of Paris and a considerable adjacent district rest on a bed of Gypsum, ranging from five to twenty feet below the surface, and considerably decomposed in its upper portion by the action of water. This region produces Wheat most luxuriantly, and I presume has done so from time immemorial. At length it crawled through the hair of the tillers of this soil that the substance which did so much good fortuitously, and (as it were) because it could not do otherwise, might do still more if applied to the soil, with deliberate intent to test its value as a fertilizer. The result we all understand.
Gypsum is a chemical compound of Sulphur and Lime – so much is agreed; and the theory of chemists has been that; as the winds pass over a surface sown with it, the Ammonia which has been exhaled by a thousand barn-yards, bogs, &c., having a stronger affinity for Sulphur than Lime has, dissolves the Gypsum, combines with the Sulphur, forming a Sulphate of Ammonia, and leaves the Lime to get on as it may. I accept this theory, having no reason to distrust it; and, knowing that Sulphate of Ammonia is a powerful stimulant of vegetable growth (as any one may be assured by buying a little of it from some druggist and making the necessary application), I can readily see how the desired result might in this way be produced. For our purpose, however, let it suffice that it is produced, of which almost any one may be convinced by sowing with Gypsum and passing by alternate strips or belts of the same clover field. I suspect that not many fertilizers repay their cost out of the first crop; but I account Gypsum one of them; and I submit that no farmer can afford not to try it. That its good effect is diminished by many and frequent applications, is highly probable; but there is no hill or slope to which Gypsum has never yet been applied which ought not to make its acquaintance this very year. I am confident that there are pastures which might be made to increase their yield of Grass one-third by a moderate dressing of it.
I have heard Andrew B. Dickinson, late of Steuben County, and one of the best unscientific, unlearned farmers ever produced by our State, maintain that he can not only enrich his own farm but impoverish his neighbors' by the free use of Gypsum on his woodless hills. The chemist's explanation of this effect is above indicated. The plastered land attracts and absorbs not only its own fair proportion of the breeze-borne Ammonia, but much that, if the equilibrium had not been disturbed by such application, would have been deposited on the adjacent hills. As Mr. D. makes not the smallest pretensions to science, the coincidence between his dictum and the chemist's theory is noteworthy.
Now that our country is completely gridironed with Canals and Railroads, bringing whatever has a mercantile value very near every one's door, I suggest that no township should go without Gypsum. Five dollars will buy at least two barrels of it almost anywhere; and two barrels may be sown over five or six acres. Let it be sown so that its effect (or non-effect) may be palpable; give it a fair, careful trial, and await the result. If it seem to subserve no good purpose, be not too swift to enter up judgment; but buy two barrels more, vary your time and method of application, and try again. If the result be still null, let it be given up that Gypsum is not the fertilizer needed just there – that some ill-understood peculiarity of soil or climate renders it there ineffective. Then let its use be there abandoned; but it will still remain true that, in many localities and in countless instances, Gypsum has been fully proved one of the best and cheapest commercial fertilizers known to mankind.
I never tried, but on the strength of others' testimony believe in the improvement of soils by means of calcined clay or earth. Mr. Andrew B. Dickinson showed me where he had, during a dry Autumn plowed up the road-sides through his farm, started fires with a few roots or sticks, and then piled on sods of the upturned clay and grass-roots till the fire was nearly smothered, when each heap smoked and smouldered like a little coal-pit till all of it that was combustible was reduced to ashes, when ashes and burned clay were shoveled into a cart and strewn over his fields, to the decided improvement of their crops. Whoever has a clay sod to plow up, and is deficient in manure, may repeat this experiment with a moral certainty of liberal returns.