This thick, sweet syrup can then be poured into crocks to be used on porridge or cakes. Or, it can be ladled into the third kettle. If this is done, the liquid will then, over a smaller fire, be carefully stirred until it turns into sugar. The sugar will be packed into wooden boxes and tubs to be used in the coming year.
Though sugaring was laborious, they would try to make it such a cheerful season, for the whole family looked forward to this chore, making it more play than work.
And, of course, one of the best parts of producing maple syrup was testing the outcome!
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Just in case you are interested in maple sugaring |
"Large countries within our Union are covered with Sugar maple as heavily as can be conceived, and that this tree yeilds a sugar equal to the best from the cane, yeilds it in great quantity, with no other labor than what the women and girls can bestow . . . What a blessing to substitute a sugar which requires only the labor of children..."
--future President of the United States, Thomas Jefferson 1791--
(Ah, Mr. Jefferson. More than children and women were needed...)
Benjamin Rush, physician and close friend of Thomas Jefferson, in an attempt to convince the future president that maple sugar was not only equal to cane in quality, but indeed that for the moral and economic good of the new nation, felt it was imperative that Americans promote its manufacture to supplant the West India sugar trade. In a remarkably short period of time, maple sugar was transformed in the minds of the many American opinion leaders from a minor local crop produced mainly by subsistence farmers into a highly fashionable--perhaps deliciously profitable—new national industry. During the early 1790s this phenomenon, sometimes labeled “the maple sugar bubble,” inflamed the minds and hearts of such influential figures as Henry Drinker, a well regarded Quaker merchant; William Cooper, founder of Cooperstown; and of course, Thomas Jefferson and Benjamin Rush. The writings of these men, reflected and informed by articles written by supporters of the trade across New England, all made the same point: maple sugar could and should become a permanent replacement for cane sugar in America.
Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to step on a soap box for a moment here:
I have in front of me a bottle of Log Cabin Original Syrup. Here are the ingredients:
corn syrup, liquid sugar (natural sugar, water), salt, natural and artificial flavors (lactic acid), cellulose gum, preservatives (sorbic acid, sodium benzoate), sodium hexametaphosphate, caramel color, phosphoric acid.
Now here is what's in the bottle of Spring Tree Maple Syrup that is also in front of me:
100% pure maple syrup.
That's it.
Now, what would you rather put into your body?
Methinks that the Log Cabin syrup is somehow not quite as original as they say...
Okay, I'm off my soap box now.
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The floors are scrubbed and the wool
has been spun and dyed.
I pray that God sees it right to
bless us with a fine growing season
this new year.
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For the colonial farmers, the new year began in March:
'twas on March 25, 1620 that a diary entry noted, "The new year beginneth."
You see, March, before 1752, was the first month of the year, but due to the Julian leap year formula overcompensating for the actual length of a solar year, having added an extra day every 128 years, seasonal equinoxes were falling 10 days "too early," and some church holidays, such as Easter, did not always fall in the proper seasons.
It wasn't until 1750 that an act of Parliament in England changed calendars dates to align with the Gregorian Calendar (after Pope Gregory XIII) rather than remain with the Julian calendar. The beginning of the legal new year was then moved from March 25 to January 1.
Henceforth, New Year's celebrations would take place on the evening of December 31st and last into the following day.
(Read more about this
HERE)
For farmers, however, February's last days remained as they had always kept it, and accounts and diaries were closed and inventories were made. There was talk of spring and the new farm year. All farm calendars and diaries, almanacs and agricultural manuals continued to appropriately (for them) begin with March.
"The new year is at our door," says a diary entry of the period,
"spring is with us in March when we are yet sitting by the fireside..."
The American farmer, who drank cider daily at his table instead of water or milk, was more or less a sober man. But mead and 'hardened cider brandy' were always in order during the March preparations for the coming seasons of labor, no matter the after effects.
There is always talk, in our modern time, of the differences between the youth of today and their counterparts of the past. Boys in the 18th century who were still under the age of ten not only knew how to expertly use firearms, but also learned how to handle an ax and keep it ready for use. The ax, aside from his rifle, was perhaps the most important tool that a man could have had. And just as girls helped their mothers with the housework, boys worked next to their fathers in the fields.
For the sustainability of a farm, fences were, and are, considered a prime necessity. Almanac after almanac began the month of March with "Look to your fences." March was the ideal season for storing up firewood and splitting fence-rails. March winds dry out the winter-cut logs in the woods, making them easier to haul in.
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Chopping...
...and gathering in the 18th century
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Fuel wood. |
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Written in the diary of Noah Blake (from 1805)):
"March 26, 1805
A light snow fell which father believes will be the last of the winter. We fell'd a fine oak and rolled it upon rails for Spring seasoning. Mother is joyous at the thought of a good wood floor.
March 27, 1805
...it snowed again today. We kept within the house, sharpening and making ready tools for the year's farming."
Although March was the month for hauling in and cutting up wood, the actual felling of trees for fence material was often done during the second running of sap, in August. By way of a wooden mallet, rails were always split by hammering on them with wedges, never by striking them with an ax. The use of wooden hammers is now almost a lost art, but the workshop of days long past had a great variety of them.
This chore of laying up new fuel wood also heralded the end of winter, the season of the hearth. Besides heating and cooking equipment, there were always a few pieces of wood present, being seasoned by the winter fire. Special wood for ax handles and other farm tools was laboriously dried at the fireplace, and even lightly charred for strength. Special pieces were often left near the fireplace for as long as a year, to render them properly seasoned.
From tapping the trees for syrup to mending fences & tools, the next big job a farmer had was hauling manure from the manure pile in the barnyard to the field where he would later plow and plant. The gutters behind the cows were cleaned daily and the mixture of straw and manure became an ever-growing pile in the barnyard. Mucking the stall and removing the dung was generally done by the males in the household. Then would come the duty of spreading the manure...I would venture to guess this was probably the worst job in a farmer's year.
It was in April where in a diary was written:
"The three horses carting manure from the yard to Field Number 2 and covering it with the drill plough, Seven workers, including one woman, were spreading the manure..."
No matter how much one may love cows and horses, I can almost guarantee they will simply despise having to shovel manure onto a wheelbarrow or cart and then haul it out to the manure pile.
But it had to be done. From November through the end of March, while the animals spent their nights in the barn, it had to be done.
And then, once spring planting preparations began, the farmer again would have to haul the pile, load after cart load, out to the planting field. This was an arduous ordeal, for hauling a heavy load of manure through the crevice-filled field was no easy task.
Then came the duty of spreading...I would venture to guess this was probably the worst job in a farmer's year. Shovels-full of manure thrown onto the land to be spread, whether by rake, plow, or harrow was truly back-breaking, and took days to weeks to complete.
Next it was time for plowing. A plow is one of the oldest of farming tools and was another challenging tilling necessity. The process of plowing is an unbroken link to the past, one of which is carried on today, though with much greater ease than in days of old. The plow, of course, breaks up and turns over the soil, bringing fresh nutrients to the surface, while burying weeds, crop remains, and the manure to decay. The plow creates the trenches known as furrows to make it smoother for planting. Farming would be near impossible without this tool.
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Plowing...1770 |
Back and forth, walking literally mile after mile. Arms, as use to gripping the wood handles as they were, ached nightly, and they ached even worse come the next morning when the farmer, once again, would find himself behind the one, maybe two, plow horses in the cool of the morning, digging the wooden mould-board tool into the ground to turn up the soil that had laid dormant and frozen all the long winter.
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The plow pictured here is from 1775 and is made of wood. |
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Yep, that's 1860s Ken holding the
plow. I was bound and determined
to do it right! And with Steve
at my side, how could I not?
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~By the way, in 2014 I was very lucky to have had the opportunity to plow behind a team of horses, something I've never done before but had wanted to experience for years. Since this ancient chore was new to me, I wasn't quite sure what to expect, and what I found was that it is much tougher of a chore than I imagined; my legs felt as if I had run through wet sand with 15 lb weights on each ankle. However, my arms and upper torso felt great. I did a couple of furrows, which was all my legs could handle (this modern city boy is not in the same physical shape as an 18th or 19th century farmer, that's for sure!), but, thanks to the good folk at Firestone Farm inside Greenfield Village, I now can say I plowed behind horses.
The best part?
I didn't make a fool of myself (seriously - I was pretty nervous about that!). In fact, I was told that I did very well and kept my furrows pretty straight. Well, that certainly meant a lot to me.
This experience was, in all honesty, the highlight of not only my historical year, but in my living history hobby as a whole.~
It was after plowing that the farmer would use the harrow to further spread and even out the dirt for planting. The purpose of a harrow is to break up the clumps of soil and to provide a smoother finish to the land, making for better planting and growth. Back across the field mister farmer would go, and when he finished in one direction, he would harrow (or drag) the field crosswise to smooth it even further.
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Harrowing the land.
Photo courtesy of the Smithsonian |
Henry Ford once commented that children knew more about wars than about harrows, even though harrows did more to build this country than wars. Hence, this was part of his reasoning in creating the Greenfield Village open-air museum; to show the importance of everyday life of the past. Ford is also known for his oft-repeated (usually out of context)
history is bunk! statement: "History, as it is taught in the schools, deals largely with...wars, major political controversies, territorial extensions and the like. When I went to our American history books to learn how our forefathers harrowed the land, I discovered that the historians knew nothing about harrows. Yet our country depended more on harrows than on guns or great speeches. I thought a history which excluded harrows and all the rest of daily life is bunk, and I think so yet."
It was in May when the patch of land for growing flax would be harrowed and sowed. Flax was important in a number of ways, including the spinning into linen after preparation, as well as for making candle wicking. And to help with a mental scene, from the book
A Day In a Colonial Home by Della R. Prescott: “
Daughter, take this flagon (a container for holding liquids)
of buttermilk up to the flax patch. We saved this much in the churn. ‘Tis ten o’clock and father and John must be hungry. This drink will help them through the next hour.”
It is unfortunate that there may, at times, be a varmint, perhaps a woodchuck (for they have been known to eat flax plants), who made a home where the patch would be, so the flint-lock would be used to take care of the situation. There was no calling animal control.
"When the oak leaves are the size of a field mouse's ear, then it's time to plant the corn," was a popular old-time saying.
Another said that the whippoorwill offered a reminder for corn planting, calling soon after sunset when the days began to warm (usually in May).
Planting the crop was a critical step with no room for error. Missing a section of a field could cause a huge problem: no seed in the ground, no crop.
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Aye, my early spring plants are beginning to
sprout. Mayhaps my asparagus, parsnips,
and pea greens will be ready shortly.
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For centuries, farmers sowed grain by hand; shouldering a bag of seed, the farmer walked up and down the tilled field, fingering the seeds from side to side. As noted in an ancient diary:
"On spring-plowed fields it was heavy traveling for the man who carried grain and sowed by hand. Of course, it was heavy work, even traveling over fall-plowed ground, with the grain hung over the shoulders, and the steady swing of the right arm throwing the grain as the right foot advanced, and dipping the hand into the bag for another cast of grain as the left foot advanced."
But the sowing process and outcome was frustrating at best. There is an old proverb that I recall hearing in my own youth from my own farming grandfather that had carried over from times past which best describes the planting of seeds:
One for the mouse,
one for the crow,
one to rot,
and one to grow.
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Ian Anderson, founding member of the
group Jethro Tull, performs at the grave
of the original Jethro Tull.
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Did you know that our first President, George Washington, was a fan of Jethro Tull?
It's true!
Though it wasn't until the late 18th century and into the 19th century that it's popularity grew, it was Jethro Tull, an English agriculturalist, who is credited with inventing the first
practical seed drill back in 1701, allowing farmers to plant their crop much easier and more uniform. George Washington owned a book called "Horse-Hoeing Husbandry" written by Tull, and he became a practitioner of his ideas.
I think it would be kind of funny for me, as one from the 21st century, to see and hear George Washington having a conversation about Jethro Tull.
(To jump into the future a moment, it was in Wisconsin in 1860 that brothers George and Daniel Van Brunt patented a design for a combination drill and cultivator that was pulled by a team of horses. This was an immediate success and gained in popularity throughout the early 1860's. By the end of the Civil War the Van Brunt Company was producing 1300 grain drills a year)~
For the farmer's wife, spring was her time to plan and prepare for the all-important kitchen garden. The kitchen garden was where plants for use in the kitchen and homelife were planted and cultivated. Though there would be vegetables, herb seeds were among the first things to go into the ground. Some herbs were even used for pesticides to deter flies, fleas, and moths. And dill, fennel, rosemary, tansey, thyme, sorrel, and basil were considered to be essential to any colonial garden.
Alongside the herbs, this is what many colonials planted in their kitchen gardens in April or May in the northern colonies, as well as in the upper middle colonies, and even in the settlements on the frontier Great Lakes region: onions, potatoes, peas, skirret, lettuce, leeks, cabbage, and asparagus.
Parsley, skirret, and sorrel were planted for use in salads ("sallets") as well as seasonings for meats that had been heavily salted for preservation.
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Planning the kitchen garden at 1760s Daggett farm.
Many times the garden would be supplemented
with a greenhouse, a strawberry patch, and fruit trees.
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What was available for a family to eat in winter and spring depended on a wife's careful preservation of their excess produce. For many families, particularly those in the north, a woman's expertise in this area made the difference between comfort and starvation, not only through the winter but well into the spring. The family that did not have time to plant a garden, especially those out on the frontier, faced a winter of intense hardship. John Reynolds and his family survived on very little while on the Pennsylvania frontier: "Our bread was flour and water without salt or leaven, baked in the ashes in thin cakes. Bacon was our standing dish of meat. Chocolate with sassafras or winter-green tea was our drink at meals. Vegetables we had none."
The importance of the kitchen garden cannot be overstated.
May is also the month when tomatoes and peppers and beans and corn and squash and pumpkin and melon and cucumbers and whatever else feasible could be planted. Sarah Bryant often noted in her diary when the hens began to lay, and wrote the dates of the first blossoming of plums, peaches, apples, and cherries in her orchard. Her diary also records the first sowing of grains and garden vegetables, including when she saw the first peas and cucumbers peaking through. In fact, it would be the month of May when radishes, lettuce, asparagus, and even new peas could start popping up.
And, as so many of her time (and even in our modern times), she often worried over the threat of the damage a late frost could do during blooming season.
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Preparing the kitchen garden... |
Part of the kitchen garden included plants used for medicinal purposes, for the wife was also the family doctor. Included in this section would be wormwood, which was a purgative for stomach issues or worms, tansy was used to stop bleeding and bruising, St. John's Wort, used to help with wounds, skin irritations, and consumption, and chamomile, which was used, same as it is today, to make a calming tea.
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Starting from seed... |
It is to be expected that kitchen garden produce would have been thought of and planned out from the onset, for these were the necessities of life. But the "ornamental" flowering plants, most, of which were brought over from Europe in years past, were not forgotten, and before long they, too, were growing side by side in the colonial garden. Such varieties as love-lies-bleeding, coreopsis, hyacinth, foxglove, tawny daylily, and hollyhock could be seen in many colonial gardens. Many of the more decorative plants could also be used beyond their beauty, for instance, in dyeing wool the brilliant colors seen on clothing as well as medicinal.
The husband also used a portion of the kitchen garden:
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Growing hops to be ready for fall beer brewing time.
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And beer was a vital necessity beverage for families,
including the wee ones. |
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'Twas not only farmers who had kitchen gardens; the yards of city and townsfolk would also care for their own patch of land to grown the necessities they would need as well.
And, then there's the flax patch needed so linen can be made over the next winter.
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A little photo-trickery here: We actually were planting flax here, though I added the Daggett House in the background.
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Sheep shearing time was another chore that took place in later spring, after the assurance of no more snow arriving. Written in 1765: "The proper time to shear your sheep is in the increase of the moon, in May; and, if you have the conveniency, make a pen near some water course or pond, and wash your sheep before you shear them: As soon as they are washed turn them into a small enclosure that has plenty of grass, and let them run on it two or three days, or until you see the fatty or oily substance shedding amongst the wool. Then is the proper time to shear them, for that is a great preservation to the wool."
Shearing sheep is usually done only once a year so that the sheep are free of their heavy wool coats for the hot summer months. You would not want to shear the animals too early in the spring, however, for fear of not-so-fair weather for the animals. Going from a full thick winter wool coat to almost no coat can be a bit stressful for the animal, and more so if the weather is cold. Since lambing occurs in the late spring or early summer, shearing often takes place in April or early May. A sheep without her fleece is pretty naked looking! This annual ritual also has the benefit of producing salable wool or, if you're like my wife, spinning it into yarn yourself.
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Sheep Shearing at Colonial Williamsburg
(found on the internet - no name listed) |
Most farmers prefer to have their sheep sheared before lambing commences, usually about a month before, for the ewes are still a few weeks away from full pregnancy so the process is little easier on them.
Shearing before lambing also helps to keep the animals cleaner during birthing as they won't have a full fleece for blood and afterbirth to collect in. Some farmers also believe the lambs have an easier time finding the udder on a shorn ewe.
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Not much left in the root cellar
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With March, April, and May signaling the end of the winter season, the family would most likely be using up things in the root cellar; by the time springtime arrived, people were nearing the end of their winter storage of the food from last fall's harvest and were looking forward to the season of growing.
However, some of the winter vegetables may have begun to rot, and the apples, in many cases, could be getting soft. Mushy potatoes would be made into starch, and the winter's accumulation of fat would be made into soap before it turned rancid.
Then there were the winter squash, carrots, onions, and dried beans, though it would not be long before fresh asparagus could sprout (in May). There might also soon be fresh lettuce available, especially if one had cold frames or hot frames to grow them in.
Pickled items of all sorts would be on the pantry shelves, cucumber pickles, watermelon rind pickles, sauerkraut, pickled peppers, pickled onions, etc…
For fruit there probably would have been jellies, jams, and the last of those softened cellar apples mentioned earlier.
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Smoked and salted meat |
In the meat category, ham was popular since it was getting warmer, and whatever was left in the smokehouse wasn't likely to keep much longer. The sow has farrowed and now piglets were to be raised. There could be lamb and veal, meaning if one didn't make it, guess what? There could be a suckling pig or lamb to eat for Sunday dinner (newborn animals that didn't make it were not wasted). There could still be fresh beef maybe, but most probable there wouldn't be any left. Salted beef would be much more likely.
Into May we have another diary entry from a holiday no longer celebrated:
"Rog. Sunday. After meeting, we all walked our boundaries," wrote Noah Blake in his diary on May 19, 1805.
Now here is something I was not familiar with until recently. "Rog. Sunday," as Noah wrote, is actually Rogation Sunday, which was the day when farmers looked to their land and crops and prayed for a bountiful harvest. It was the Sixth Sunday of Easter (the fifth Sunday after Easter Sunday) and is part of the Church of England's calendar of festivals. The word rogation comes from the Latin verb rogare, meaning "to ask", which reflects the beseeching of God for protection from calamities. As the Book of Common Prayer puts it: “Rogation Days are the three days preceding Ascension Day, especially devoted to asking for God's blessing on agriculture and industry.”
So it was on this day when the clergy and his flock walked through the village and out into the fields to bless the planted ground. In the evening of Rogation Sunday, farmers and their families walked the boundaries of their own property; it was both inventory and a time for giving thanks for their land.