Menu

Patricia Burdick

About Patricia Burdick

http://www.colby.edu/directory_cs/paburdic/

Posts by Patricia Burdick:

Radio Script #1197

/ , /

Little Talks on Common Things
April 1, 1979

A few weeks ago I told you about a report of the Maine Agricultural Commission in the middle 1880’s. Since then I have seen another volume of those reports issued in 1891. Any publication of that year has a sentimental interest for me, because that was the year when I was born. I was not raised on a farm, but in a small woolen mill village surrounded by hundreds of small farms. Because we had farming relatives, and even more because my father’s store did business with many farmers, I did know something about farm life at the turn into the 20th century. Farming in Northern Cumberland and Oxford counties was then much as I heard President Arthur Roberts describe it when I was later a student at Colby., Roberts said: “In Maine, farming is not an occupation, it is a misfortune.” Long before that, Cyrus Hamlin, father of Maine’s only Vice President Hannibal Hamlin, had said: “In Maine farmers have to sharpen the sheep’s noses so they can graze between the rocks.”

In 1979 there are still prosperous farms in Maine, potato farms in Aroostook, dairy farms allover the state, and fields of hay and fodder corn, and other agricultural pursuits, but the day of the small subsistence farm has largely passed.

So it is interesting to see an article in the 1891 Maine Report on the subject, “Does the Maine Farm Pay’?” The article was. written by J. M. Deering of Saco. Let us now see in part what he bad to say. “Changes in agriculture in the past 20 years have brought farmers into sharper competition with each other and have knocked the Maine farmer off his base.

“Farming is a business and has two sides. One lies in the sunlight of prosperity, the other in the gloom of adversity. The farmers of Maine are sturdy, economical, intelligent people. There are no more disadvantages in farming than in other industries, and none that cannot be overcome by organized effort. Our prosperous cities are dependent upon our farms. If a city leads in the manufacture of woolen goods, it is the farmer who supplies the wool. If the city makes shoes, the farmer supplies the hides. Without the farmers’ products, the richest merchant would soon be bankrupt. The owner of any business is helpless without the farmers animals, vegetables and fruits. A man may own a number of lumber mills, but their wheels cannot turn without the farmers’ lumber.”

That was a noble statement of Dr. Deering’s, but he overlooked a factor that was present even in his day. Long before 1891 the great bulk of Maine’s lumber had not come from the small woodlots on farms, but from the virgin forests in Maine’s hinterland. As early as 1820,William Connor of Fairfield was sending 50 men and a hundred oxen into the area known as the Sapling near Moosehead, Lake, where thousands of feet of the timber that they cut was floated down the Kennebec to the Fairfield sawmills. By 1891 at least 90 percent of Maine lumber came from the big forest operators, not from the farms.

Like many agricultural enthusiasts in Maine, Deering was also underestimating the domination of the prairie states. By 1891 there had been plenty of experience to show that the rocky farms of Maine could not compete with the rich loam of the prairies. The stone walls of Maine, so laboriously made by clearing rocks from the fields were completely unknown in the Middle West simply because the fields had so few rocks. In 1840 Maine had exported nearly 100,000 bushels of wheat and flour was ground in a number of local gristmills. By 1890 all flour was being brought in from the west. Maine farmers by that time were producing so little for market in comparison with western farmers, that they had almost no influence on prices, and the price level was what makes a farmer to a large degree, prosperous or needy.

By 1891 Maine already had a well operated agricultural experiment station at the Maine State College of Agriculture and Mechanical Arts in Orono. It was under direction of Director W. H. Jordan. who was responsible to M. C. Fernald, president of the college. The state received $15,000 a year from the federal government toward the station’s support. Besides a few low paid farm help, the station had five salaried employees whose total salaries came to only $4,000. On its field and feeding experiments the station spent in 1890 the meager sum of $700. The station’s total resources were less than $25,000 a year. Added to the $15,000 from Washington, the state appropriated $5,000, somewhat less than another $5,000 came from donations, sales of products and other sources.

The Maine station was then only five years old. In response to passage in Congress of the Hatch Act, appropriating money for such stations in all states, the Maine Legislature had established in 1886 the station at Orono. The federal Act made the experiment station a department of the college, in the same relation to the college trustees as was any other department. The law demanded that each station have a full-time designated director responsible both to the college president and to a bureau in Washington. The 1891 Report said: “It is true that some members of the” faculty will devote their time between station work and instruction of students, but in no instance will station funds be used to pay for time devoted to teaching,”

In 1891 activities of the experiment station included investigation into cattle feeds, fertilizers and crop production, varieties of farm products, animal diseases, horticulture, agricultural meteorology (that is, the influence of weather on crops, with investigation into methods of combating drought on the one hand and excessive moisture on the other), and a definite program of chemical anaylsis.

In 1887 there had been erected at Orono an agricultural experiment station building. The Report said: “This building is of brick with granite facings. The basement has space for storage and apparatus for chemical analyses. It has a Springfield gas machine for the manufacture of burning gas from naptha, a boiler to supply steam for heating and laboratory use, and room for coal. On the first floor are 5 rooms devoted entirely to chemical work, and a library. Three of the rooms have gas, water, tables, hoods, evaporation bath, balance shelves, and other equipment. The second floor has a station office, a director’s private room, and a room for bacterial investigation. The whole building is heated by steam and lighted by gas.”

Some of the experiment that the station had conducted in 1890 were the composition of ashes from different woods, value of manure rendered from cornmeal and cottonseed meal, digestibility by animals of potatoes raw and boiled, the profitable quantity of food to feed steers for growth, the effect of hilling potatoes compared with flat culture, and a study of different breeds of cows for dairy purposes.

In Maine much attention was given to apples in 1891. The Report said: “The truly best apple for man has not yet been found. Many raisers pronounce the Baldwin as the most profitable. That apple has long led the export market to England. The best marketable apple must be of pleasing appearance, appealing flavor, and a good keeper. It must be able to stand up in transportation. What is needed is an apple with the combined qualities of several existing varieties. Experiments should some day produce the really best apple.”

Much space was taken in the 1891 report to discuss the different breeds of cows. Here are just a few lines from the long account given of each of several common breeds. “Jersey. The origin of this breed is a mystery. Various authorities connect them with Brittany, Normandy and Switzerland. The probability is that the Romans, as they pushed northward into Gaul, carried with them a better breed of cattle than were already in the Gallic territory, and that better breed spread to the Channel Islands, especially the island of Jersey. Hence the name.”

At any rate, as early as 1789 the island passed a law to prevent exportation of their particular cattle. The island of Jersey is about the size of two Maine townships, 11 by 5 miles. The Gulf Stream makes the climate mild. Jerseys first appeared in Maine about 1850. The Jersey gives more butterfat per pound of feed than any other breed.

“Guernsey. Another Channel Island that gave its name to a breed of cattle is Guernsey. When first brought to the U. S. they were called Alderneys for a neighboring smaller island. Unlike the island of Jersey. Guernsey raised vegetables for the London market. Guernsey cows are not put loose to pasture on their native island, but are pegged out and women move the herd from time to time to allow new grazing area. On the island the dairying methods are primitive, much as they were centuries ago. Guernsey milk is of high color and the butter needs no artificial coloring.

“Ayrshire. Native of Scotland, the Ayrshire is a favorite breed in eastern Canada. A herd of Ayrshires near Buffalo has shown a remarkable record in milk production. The Ayrshire has been popular in the milk producing area of Vermont and northern New York. The fat is peculiarly adapted to the making of cheese.

“Holstein. This breed has been known for 2000 years in Holland and the neighboring Frisian Islands. It is noteworthy that from the same small area of Europe – the Frisian Islands whence came these cattle to England came also the fundamental roots of the English language – the early English speech called Anglo-Saxon. In Holland the house and stable are all one. It usually has brick walls 10 feet high, and has a thatched roof. The family uses a large room, with beds recessed against the wall along one side. The kitchen and dining space are in one corner and the stable in another, with no partition between. The cows are fastened with their heads turned to the side of the building. They stand on a level raised a foot above the floor, and behind them is a drain two feet deep and a foot across. The drain is thoroughly washed out every day. In fact, despite the presence of the animals, the whole room is kept scrupulously clean. The cows’ tails are attached to a rope over the drain to keep it free of filth when they lie down. The cows are curried like horses. In their stall area is no straw, shavings or sawdust – only sand. Holsteins are great milk producers, exceeding Jerseys in quantity, but not so good as Jerseys in butterfat. A good Holstein can be sold for $75.” Quite a difference from the price of pure-bred Holsteins in 1979!

A few weeks ago I tried to put an end to the false rumor that most preachers in the early 19th century were uneducated. Today as we close this program and turn away from cows to churches again, I want to squelch another rumor. That one is that the early churches had no social concerns, no regard for society’s needs, that such a concept had to wait for Walter Rauschenbush in the 20th century. That same Baptist manual of 1854 that I mentioned earlier had an article on social concern, and that was published 125 years ago, long before Rauschenbush was born. A portion of the article says: “This age has seen for the first time in history the governed dictating to their governors. Men demand change and they will have it. There is a rising resentment at restraint. There is a general longing for liberty. Alleviation from the heaviest burdens of physical labor causes a rising cry against oppressed workers. Not long ago laborers in many civilized lands had to toil through 16 hours a day, but their wages provided the barest subsistence. That we have made progress at all against such oppression is due to the insistence of Christian people. From many a pulpit has been sounded the tocsin cry and legislators have responded. Christianity will never fulfill its mission if it only teaches people to be content with their lot. It must champion the causes of the oppressed, or those people will soon be beyond the reach of the church.”

And with that salute to social action by churches 125 years ago, we now say goodbye until next week.

Radio Script #1192

/ , /

Little Talks On Common Things
February 25, 1979

Ninety years ago Maine was already changing from an agricultural to an industrial state, but in 1888 farming was still Maine’s predominant occupation. An examination of that year’s report of the Maine Board of Agriculture gives us some realization of farming’s importance in this state. That Board was comprised of 18 persons: the President, B. A. Brown of Bangor; the Secretary, Z. A. Gilbert of Greene; and one member from each of Maine’s sixteen counties. The representative from Kennebec was S. C. Watson of Oakland, and the one from Somerse’t was G. J. Shaw of Hartland.The growing season of 1888 had not been good. The report said:

“Snow long on the ground until late in the spring, and that no seed was put in until late May. All summer rainfall was almost continuous. It was hardly possible to dry hay or any other fodder crop. The flat lands became so softened by excess of water that teams could not be driven over them, and many large fields were left unharvested. Potatoes had to be dug with water standing between the rows. Most fall planting had to be abandoned. Nothing like it has ever before been known in our state. “To add to this calamity, there were unseasonable frosts. A heavy one occurred on September 6, killing vegetables allover Maine on high and low land alike. That frost was followed by others through all of what is usually a warm autumn month. By early October every fall crop had been ruined. The year’s grain yield was very light, much of it actually destroyed by water in the fields. Such devastation has not been seen in Maine since the notorious Year of No Summer in 1816.

“It is ?true that apples that had resisted complete freezing were abundant, but they were small and so frostbitten that they soon rotted after being picked. Very few of them were suitable for the market.” After that general and woeful introduction, the report got down to specifics •. Through the years, attempts have several times been made to raise beef in Maine, and a bit of it is still done. But, as the great pasture lands of the west opened, this rock-pitted state did not have the rich pasture·lands to meet that competition.

The 1888 report said: “Raising beef cattle was once profitable in Maine. It has now been driven to the wall by the abundance of Chicago dressed beef, which is sold here in Maine cheaper than we can produce it. Six cents a pound on the hoof is now top price for Maine beef, and that has to be young steers. Cows bring less., and bulls are not wanted at all by the meat men.” The report added a comment on sheep. “Sheep still offer some encouragement to Maine farmers. Even though the price of wool is low, the demand for mutton in the Boston market keeps its price high enough to bring a good profit to sheep raisers.”

The report says nothing about how cattle and sheep were brought to the Boston market. In 1888 there were still big stock yards and processing plants in Brighton just outside of Boston. From the early 19th century, when Maine. animals first appeared in that market, a common expression in Maine was “driving cattle to Brighton.” By 1888 Maine was so well supplied with railroad lines that buyers scoured the countryside, gathering a few cattle from each selling farmer and herding them near a railroad station from which they were transported in· freight cars to Brighton. One such assembly place was a large corral near the station in Clinton. That assembly place was actually better -known for sheep than for cattle, and the two kinds of animals were never mixed in the same corral.

We learn much about how this trade in sheep was carried on by reading the diaries of George Flood, founder of the G. S. Flood Co. in Waterville, who in 1888 was a prominent dealer in sheep and wool. Flood would journey all over Somerset County, buy sheep, corral ‘them in Clinton, and ship them to Brighton. In shearing time, if the market warranted (as it apparently did not in 1888), he would likewise buy wool allover the county. Before the coming of the railroad, the animals’ transportation to Brighton had been different. They were gathered into groups of ‘several hundred cattle or sheep, and by men traveling all the way on foot or horseback, were driven over the road to Brighton. Usually the dealer accompanied his drovers. He was paid in cash, that is in gold and silver coins, and it was no easy task to get that heavy load of money safely home to Maine. That is why, like the Western cowboys, Maine drovers were usually heavily armed.

The report of 1888 did have a few cheerful notes. It presented evidence that, while the price of beef was too low to encourage farmers, there had taken place a pleasing increase in dairying. Creameries to produce market table butter were springing up allover Maine. That was about the time that two factories were opened in my native town of Bridgton – one, a so-called milk factory to produce canned, condensed milk, was not a success and by the time of my birth had been abandoned. It stood for many years an empty, rotting structure until someone had the good sense to burn it. The other, called the creamery, from which was sold both butter and cream, was more successful and continued operation beyond the middle of this century. That report of 1888 said there were new creameries at Bangor, Belfast, Clinton, Fort Fairfield, Garland. Pittston, Rumford, Rockland, Springvale and Waterford. In 1888 Maine had 45 different agricultural societies, and most of them held annual fairs. The North Kennebec Society, centered in Waterville, held its fair on the flat land of Upper Main Street where are now the Elm Plaza Shopping Center and the Industrial Park. Its president in 1888 was Hall C. Burleigh, whose son-in-law, Virgil Totman, now lives not far from where the fair was held.

That 1888 report contained several articles on various agricultural subjects. One, written by J. M. Deering of Saco was on the Management of Fairs. He wrote: “A good fair means a variety of high quality exhibits. It needs every kind of farm products. It must display different kinds of tools and implements, especially the newest farm machines. Our exhibits of farm products can be improved only whEm many farmers and their wives overcome their present excessive modesty that causes them to fear they have nothing good enough to exhibit.” Deering admitted that proper judging to award prizes posed a persistent problem. But he insists there were many persons in every county fitted by education and experience and so possessed of inherent fairness to be good judges and sufficiently specialized to furnish plenty of this to serve in every category of article and· livestock exhibited at a fair. He suggested that fairness might be better secured if all judges were brought in from outside the county.

What did Deering have to say about what was later called the Midway – the amusement center of a fair? He wrote: “The improvement of our fairs does not call for wheels of fortune and the games of chance that unfortunately have sprung up of late. We do need a variety of attractions, but not that kind. We must have clean fairs that do not rob the public. A fair nmst not be a gambling establishment, sanctified by agriculture.” Mrs. Mary Rollins of Winthrop had an article on “How I Make Prize Butter. 1.1 She wrote: “First I must have Jersey cows. No other breed equals the Jersey for butter fat. They must have proper food and water. In the fall when pastures are turning brown, my cows get second crop clover and mixed feed. I do not wait until snow comes to give them extra rations, and they always get plenty of salt.”I never allow my butter milk to stand in the barn. It is brought directly into the house and is immediately strained. The milk is then set in pans, and within 12 hours I skim off the butter cream. “Many people are too anxious to get the churning done quickly. That is one example of how haste makes waste. You must not expect the butter to come in less than 40 to 50 minutes. Shorter churning never brings prize butter.

“Taking the butter from the churn, I wash it in pure, cold water, then rinse it in slightly salted water, weigh it and salt it ounce for ounce. I let it set for two hours, then place it in one-pound molds. Then for handling it, I put it in butter boxes and cover them with a cloth wrung out of salted water. If that is not done, the butter turns brittle.” If you have listened to Mrs. Rollins’ account of her butter-making you may have been astonished at how much work and how many hours it took her to get a pound of butter ready for market. And remember that she had a lot of other housework to do on the same day. But the good lady tells us that during the year she sold 2,460 pounds of butter and the net profit had been nearly $200. In 1888 when a farm family’s income was often less than $500 a year, that $200 was not to be sneezed at. Mrs. Rollins was not enamored of the new factory creameries. She said: “Milk from the cow is better churned right at the farm. Butter made from the cream skimmed from milk well spread in pans cannot be equaled in quality by the factory method.”

That 1888 report repeatedly called for home products … “Raise more and buy less.” That, it said must be the living slogan of Maine farms. It said: “The keynote of Maine agriculture must be abundant production. We must produce what can compete with western products, and we must make our farms more nearly self-sustaining, producing many things we now buy from outside the state.”

And with that kind of last hurrah for Maine’s 19th century fairs, we say goodby until next week.

Year: 1979

Load More