Our Piedmonl Farms
As They Were in 1881
A traveler surveys the North Caro¬
lina scene; advice given to would-be
settlers.
By ZIEGLER & CKOSSCCP
(ContiouloK extract» from the 1881 travel book: "Heart ol the AUethanlei.*')
The valley of (he Catawba, in Burke
and McDowell, is unexcelled in (he
piedmont region for corn, wheat, oats,
and vegetables. The soil is a clay loam,
mixed with sand. The sub-soil is an
impervious clay, which prevents the fil¬
tration of applied fertilizers. Better im¬
provements than are found in most
localities bespeak thrift. The trade of
the upper Catawba, and its tributaries,
goes to Morganton and Marion. Alex¬
ander, Caldwell, and Wilkes are fast
taking high rank as tobacco producing
counties, though it is probable Ca¬
tawba will maintain the lead in this
industry.
A few words to the intending im¬
migrant may not be amiss. It is not
wise to select ‘‘old field land," with
a view to raising it to a good state of
cultivation. Most of those footprints
of desolation arc beyond recovery.
Those which are not, it will not pay to
attempt to recover as long as soils
less worn remain purchasable at rea¬
sonable figures. A Philadelphia colony
made the experiment, against which
we warn, in Burke county, near Mor¬
gantown, a few years since. Like most
Northerners who come south, they
brought with them the ideas of north¬
ern farm life and the methods of
northern agriculture. With character¬
istic egotism, they never, for a moment,
doubted their ability to build up what
the native had allowed to run down
and abandon as worthless. They pur¬
chased. at a round price, a large tract
of old fields, built comfortable frame
houses, and furnished them expen¬
sively. But much use and abuse had
exhausted the clay of its substance,
to
and, in spite of deep ploughing and
careful seeding, it yielded no harvest.
Their furniture was sold at a sacrifice,
and they returned, to Pennsylvania,
disheartened. If they had selected the
best lands, instead of the worst, and
been content to live economically, as
poor people must live, the result might
have been different. The folly which
has made old fields, makes trying to
resuscitate them none the less foolish,
though buyers arc frequently made to
believe the contrary. The question
naturally comes up: why are there so
many of these ugly blots, marked by
scrubby pines, upon the face of an
otherwise fair landscape? The answer
is, indifferent farming, resulting, in a
great many cases, from the ownership
of too much land. There was no object
in saving manures, and ploughing
deep, when the next tract lay in virgin
soil, awaiting the axe, plough, and
hoc. The writer remarked to a farmer,
in Burke county, that his corn looked
yellow and inquired the reason.
"Waal," said he. "I gin hit up. I’ve
worked that thar patch in corn now
nigh onto forty year, and hits gin
worstcr and worstcr every year. I
reckon hits the seasons."
To an intelligent planter in Catawba,
I explained my inability to understand
how soil, originally good, could be
made so absolutely unproductive.
Evidently taking my question to im¬
ply some doubt as to the virginal
fertility of which he had been telling
me, he pointed significantly to an ad¬
joining field, where a woman was
plowing, or, more properly speaking,
stirring the weeds with a little bull-
tongue plow, drawn by a fresh cow.
while the calf, following after, with
difficulty, kept in the half made furrow.
"You sec what kind of work that is,"
said my friend, "but in spite of it, they
will harvest 15 bushels of wheat to the
acre.” When, a little further along. I
saw a wooden-toothed harrow in the
fence corner, I was ready to give
nature considerable credit.
During the same ride, while crossing
a sand ridge, we came where some
men were making a clearing. The pre¬
vailing growth, standing close together,
was a species of pine, uniformly about
one foot stumpage, and reaching, mast-
like, to the altitude of sixty feet. Be¬
tween these were scrub oaks four to six
inches in diameter, making the thicket
so dense that to ride a horse through
it would have been difficult.
"It strikes me," said I, "as rather a
strange fact, that those pines are all
the same size. What species are they?"
“Those," replied my friend, "are
what we call old field pine. You asked
me back there how land could be so
completely worn out; here we have
an example. That piece of land was
cleared, may be, 100 years ago. It
was then worked in corn, corn, nothing
but corn, for maybe twenty years, or
more; not a drop of anything put on.
It was then completely worked out,
and turned public to grow up in tim¬
ber again. Now it has been shaded and
catching leaves for many a year, and
has got some nutriment on top. They
will work it in corn or wheat till there's
no substance left. The bottom was all
taken out by the first working, and
there will be nothing left to make a
growth of trees a second time. When
they get it worked out this time, it's
gone forever; over here on this side is a
specimen. That field was cleared a
second time ten years ago; now you
sec it won’t hardly raise Japan clover,
and never will."
"Don’t you try to sell these old
fields, and old field forests, to men
who come in here from abroad to make
purchases?" I inquired.
"Well, it’s natural for us to get some¬
thing out of this waste when we get
the chance. But you’ve traveled in
these parts, and seen large bodies of
good land to be bought at low figures,
and you may say that anybody that
comes here will be treated right."
THE BTATE. JULY 12. 1 958
