Chapter 4 of 41 · 3984 words · ~20 min read

Part 4

It must be own’d, that Water does ever carry, in its Interstices, Particles of Earth fine enough to enter Roots; because I have seen, that a great Quantity of Earth (in my Experiments) will pass out of Roots set in Rain-water; and tis found that Water can never be, by any Art, wholly freed from its earthy Charge; therefore it must have carry’d in some Particles of Earth along with it: But yet I cannot hence conclude, that the Water did first take these fine Particles from the aforesaid Superficies: I rather think, that they are exhal’d, together with very small Pieces to which they adhere, and in the Vapour divided by the Aereal Nitre; and, when the Vapour is condens’d, they descend with it to replenish the Pasture of Plants; and that these do not enter intire into Roots, neither does any other of the earthy Charge that any Water contains; except such fine Particles which have already pass’d thro’ the Vegetable Vessels, and been thence exhal’d.

This Conjecture is the more probable, for that Rain-Water is as nourishing to Plants set therein as Spring-Water, tho’ the latter have more Earth in it; and tho’ Spring-water have some Particles in it that will enter intire into Roots, yet we must consider, that even that Water may have been many times exhal’d into the Air, and may have still retain’d a great Quantity of Vegetable Particles, which it received from Vegetable Exhalations in the Atmosphere; tho’ not so great a Quantity as Rain-water, that comes immediately thence.

These, I have to do with, are the Particles which Plants have from the Earth, or Soil; but they have also fine Particles of Earth from Water, which may impart some of its finest Charge to the Superficies of Roots, as well as to the Superficies of the Parts of the Earth[15] which makes the Pasture of Plants.

[15] If Water does separate, and take any of the mere _Pabulum_ of Plants from the Soil, it gives much more to it.

Yet it seems, that much of the Earth, contain’d in the clearest Water, is there in too large Parts to enter a Root; since we see, that in a short time the Root’s Superficies will, in the purest Water, be cover’d with Earth, which is then form’d into a terrene Pasture, which may nourish Roots; but very few Plants will live long in so thin a Pasture, as any Water affords them. I cannot find one as yet that has liv’d a Year, without some Earth have been added to it.

And all Aquatics, that I know, have their Roots in the Earth, tho’ cover’d with Water.

The Pores, Cavities, or Interstices of the Earth, being of two Sorts, _viz._ _Natural_ and _Artificial_; the one affords the Natural, the other the Artificial Pasture of Plants.

The natural Pasture alone will suffice, to furnish a Country with Vegetables, for the Maintenance of a few Inhabitants; but if Agriculture were taken out of the World, ’tis much to be fear’d, that those of all populous Countries, especially towards the Confines of the frigid Zones (for there the Trees often fail of producing Fruit), would be oblig’d to turn _Anthropophagi_, as in many uncultivated Regions they do, very probably for that Reason.

The artificial Pasture of Plants is that inner Superficies which is made from dividing the Soil by Art.

This does, on all Parts of the Globe, where used, maintain many more People than the natural Pasture[16]; and in the colder Climates, I believe, it will not be extravagant to say, ten times as many: Or that, in Case Agriculture were a little improved (as I hope to shew is not difficult to be done), it might maintain twice as many more yet, or the same Number, better.

[16] The extraordinary Increase of St. Foin, Clover, and natural Grass, when their Roots reach into pulveriz’d Earth, exceeding the Increase of all those other Plants of the same Species (that stand out of the Reach of it) above One hundred Times, shew how vastly the artificial Pasture of Plants exceeds the natural. A full Proof of this Difference, (besides very many I have had before) was seen by two Intervals in the middle of a poor Field of worn-out St. Foin, pulveriz’d in the precedent Summer, in the manner describ’d in a Note on the latter Part of Chap. XII. relating to _St. Foin_. Here not only the _St. Foin_ adjoining to these Intervals recover’d its Strength, blossom’d, and seeded well, but also the natural Grass amongst it was as strong, and had as flourishing a Colour, as if a Dung-heap had been laid in the Intervals; also many other Weeds came out from the Edges of the unplow’d Ground, which must have lain dormant a great many Years, grew higher and larger than ever were seen before in that Field; but above all, there was a Weed amongst the St. _Foin_, which generally accompanies it, bearing a white Flower; some call it _White Weed_, others _Lady’s Bedstraw_: Some Plants of this that stood near the Intervals, were, in the Opinion of all that saw them, increased to a thousand Times the Bulk of those of the same Species, that stood in the Field three Feet distant from such pulveriz’d Earth.

_Note_, These Intervals were each an Hundred Perch long, and had each in them a treble Row of Barley very good. The Reason I take to be this, That the Land had lain still several Years after its artificial Pasture was lost; whereby all the Plants in it having only the natural Pasture to subsist on, became so extremely _small_ and _weak_, that they were not able to exhaust the Land of so great a Quantity of the (vegetable) nourishing Particles as the Atmosphere brought down to it.

And when by Pulveration the artificial Pasture came to be added to this natural Pasture (not much exhausted), and nothing at all suffered to grow out of it for above Three Quarters of a Year, it became rich enough, without any Manure, to produce this extraordinary Effect upon the Vegetables, whose Roots reached into it. How long this Effect may continue, is uncertain: but I may venture to say, it will continue until the Exhaustion by Vegetables doth over-balance the Descent of the Atmosphere, and the Pulveration.

And what I have said of any one Species of Plants in this Respect may be generally apply’d to the rest.

The natural Pasture is not only less than the artificial, in an equal Quantity of Earth; but also, that little consisting in the Superficies of Pores, or Cavities, not having a free Communication[17] with one another, being less pervious to the Roots of all Vegetables, and requiring a greater Force to break thro’ their Partitions; by that Means, Roots, especially of weak Plants, are excluded from many of those Cavities, and so lose the Benefit of them.

[17] None of the natural Vegetable Pasture is lost or injured by the artificial; but on the contrary, ’tis mended by being mix’d with it, and by having a greater Communication betwixt Pore and Pore.

But the artificial Pasture consists in Superficies of Cavities, that are pervious to all Manner of Roots, and that afford them free Passage and Entertainment in and thro’ all their Recesses. Roots may here extend to the utmost, without meeting with any Barricadoes in their Way.

The internal Superficies, which is the natural Pasture of Plants, is like the external Superficies or Surface of the Earth, whereon is the Pasture of Cattle; in that it cannot be inlarg’d without Addition of more Surface taken from Land adjoining to it, by inlarging its Bounds or Limits.

But the artificial Pasture of Plants may be inlarg’d, without any Addition of more Land, or inlarging of Bounds, and this by Division only of the same Earth.

And this artificial Pasture may be increas’d in proportion to the Division of the Parts of Earth, whereof it is the Superficies, which Division may be mathematically infinite; for an Atom is nothing; neither is there a more plain Impossibility in Nature, than to reduce Matter to nothing, by Division or Separation of its Parts.

A Cube of Earth of One Foot has but Six Feet of Superficies. Divide this Cube into Cubical Inches, and then its Superficies will be increas’d Twelve times, _viz._ to Seventy-two Superficial Feet. Divide these again in like Manner and Proportion; that is, Divide them into Parts that bear the same Proportion to the Inches, as the Inches do to the Feet, and then the same Earth, which had at first no more than Six Superficial Feet, will have Eight hundred Sixty-four Superficial Feet of artificial Pasture; and so is the Soil divisible, and this Pasture increasable _ad Infinitum_.

The common Methods of dividing the Soil are these; _viz._ by _Dung_, by _Tillage_, or by both[18].

[18] For _Vis Unita Fortior_.

CHAP. IV.

_Of DUNG._

ALL Sorts of Dung and Compost contain some Matter, which, when mixt with the Soil, ferments therein; and by such Ferment dissolves, crumbles, and divides the Earth very much: This is the chief, and almost only Use of Dung: For, as to the pure earthy Part, the Quantity is so very small, that, after a perfect Putrefaction, it appears to bear a most inconsiderable Proportion to the Soil it is design’d to manure: and therefore, in that respect, is next to nothing.

Its fermenting Quality is chiefly owing to the Salts wherewith it abounds; but a very little of this Salt applied alone to a few Roots of almost any Plant, will (as, in my Mint Experiments, it is evident common Salt does) kill it.

This proves, that its Use is not to nourish, but to dissolve; _i. e._ Divide the terrestrial Matter, which affords Nutriment to the Mouths of Vegetable Roots.

It is, I suppose, upon the Account of the acrimonious fiery Nature of these Salts, that the Florists have banish’d Dung from their Flower-Gardens.

And there is, I’m sure, much more Reason to prohibit the Use of Dung in the Kitchen-Garden, on Account of the ill Taste it gives to esculent Roots and Plants, especially such Dung as is made in great Towns.

’Tis a Wonder how delicate Palates can dispense with eating their own and their Beasts Ordure, but a little more putrefied and evaporated; together with all Sorts of Filth and Nastiness, a Tincture of which those Roots must unavoidably receive, that grow amongst it.

Indeed I do not admire, that learned Palates, accustom’d to the _Goût_ of _Silphium_, _Garlick_, _la Chair venee_, and mortify’d Venison, equalling the Stench and Rankness of this Sort of City-Muck, should relish and approve of Plants that are fed and fatted by its immediate Contact.

People who are so vulgarly nice, as to nauseate these modish Dainties, and whose squeamish Stomachs even abhor to receive the Food of Nobles, so little different from that wherewith they regale their richest Gardens, say that even the very Water, wherein a rich Garden Cabbage is boil’d, stinks; but that the Water, wherein a Cabbage from a poor undung’d Field is boil’d, has no Manner of unpleasant Savour; and that a Carrot, bred in a Dunghill, has none of that sweet Relish, which a Field-Carrot affords.

There is a like Difference in all Roots, nourish’d with such different Diet.

Dung not only spoils the fine Flavour of these our Eatables, but inquinates good Liquor. The dung’d Vineyards in _Languedoc_ produce nauseous Wine; from whence there is a Proverb in that Country, That poor People’s Wine is best, because they carry no Dung to their Vineyards.

Dung is observ’d to give great Encouragement to the Production of Worms; and Carrots in the Garden are much worm-eaten, when those in the Field are free from Worms.

Dung is the Putrefaction of Earth, after it has been alter’d by Vegetable or Animal Vessels. But if Dung be thoroughly ventilated and putrefy’d before it be spread on the Field (as I think all the Authors I have read direct) so much of its Salts will be spent in fermenting the Dung itself, that little of them will remain to ferment the Soil; and the Farmer who might dung One Acre in Twenty, by laying on his Dung whilst fully replete with vigorous Salts, may (if he follows these Writers Advice to a Nicety) be forced to content himself with dunging one Acre in an Hundred.

This indeed is good Advice for Gardeners, for making their Stuff more palatable and wholesome; but would ruin the Farmer who could have no more Dung than what he could make upon his Arable Farm.

For every Sort of Dung, the longer Time it ferments without the Ground, the lesser Time it has to ferment in it, and the weaker its Ferment will be.

The Reason given for this great Diminution of Dung is, that the Seeds of Weeds may be rotted, and lose their vegetating Faculty; but this I am certain of by Demonstration, that let a Dunghil remain Three Years unmov’d, though its Bulk be vastly diminish’d in that Time, and its best Quality lost, Charlock-seed will remain found in it, and stock the Land whereon it is laid: For that Ferment which is sufficient to consume the Virtue of the stercoreous Salts, is not sufficient to destroy the vegative Virtue of Charlock-seeds, nor (I believe) of many other Sorts of Weeds.

The very Effluvia of animal Bodies, sent off by Perspiration, are so noxious as to kill the Animal that emits them, if confin’d to receive them back in great Quantity, by breathing in an Air replete with them; which appears from the soon dying of an Animal shut up in a Receiver full of Air. Yet this seems to be the most harmless of all sorts of animal Excrements the Air can be infected with. How noxious then must be the more fetid Steams of Ordure!

If a Catalogue were publish’d of all Instances from Charnel-houses (or Cœmeteries) and of the pestiferous Effects, which have happen’d from the Putrefaction of dead Bodies, after great Battles, even in the open Air, no body, I believe, would have a good Opinion of the Wholsomeness of Animal Dung; for if a great Quantity do so infect the Air, ’tis likely a less may infect it in proportion to that less Quantity.

In great Cities the Air is full of these Effluvia, which in hot Climes often produce the Pestilence; and in cold Climes People are generally observ’d to live a less time, and less healthfully, in Cities, than in the Country; to which Difference, ’tis likely, that the eating unwholsome Gardenage may contribute.

This Dung is a fitter Food for venomous Creatures[19] than for edible Plants; and ’tis (no doubt) upon Account of this, that dung’d Gardens are so much frequented by Toads, which are seldom or never seen in the open undung’d Fields.

[19] Mr. _Evelyn_ says, that Dung is the Nurse of Vermin.

What can we say then to the Salubrity of those Roots themselves, bred up and fatten’d among these Toads and Corruption? The Leaves indeed are only discharging some of the Filth, when we eat them; but the Roots have that unsavoury infected Food in their very Mouths, when we take them for our Nourishment.

But tho’ _Dung_ be, upon these and other Accounts, injurious to the Garden, yet a considerable Quantity of it is so necessary to most Corn-fields, that without it little Good can be done by the old Husbandry.

_Dung_ is not injurious to the Fields[20] being there in less Proportion: And the Produce of Corn is the Grain. When the Leaves have done their utmost to purify the Sap, the most refin’d Part is secern’d to be yet further elaborated by peculiar Organs; then, by the Vessels of the Blossoms, ’tis become double-refin’d, for the Nourishment of the Grain; which is therefore more pure from Dung, and more wholsome, than any other Part of the Plant that bears it.

[20] Such Plants as _Cabbages_, _Turneps_, _Carrots_, and _Potatoes_, when they are designed only for fatting of Cattle, will not be injured by Dung, Tillage, and Hoeing all together, which will make the Crops the greater, and the Cattle will like them never the worse.

And common Tillage alone is not sufficient for many Sorts of Corn, especially Wheat, which is the King of Grains.

Very few Fields can have the Conveniency of a sufficient Supply of Dung, to enable them to produce half the Wheat those will do near Cities, where they have Plenty of it.

The Crop of 20 Acres will scarce make Dung sufficient for one Acre, in the common Way of laying it on.

The Action of the Dung’s Ferment affords a Warmth[21] to the Infant-plants, in their most tender State, and the most rigorous Season.

[21] But though Dung in fermenting may have a little Warmth, yet it may sometimes, by letting more Water enter its Hollowness, be in a Frost much colder than undung’d pulverized Earth; for I have seen Wheat-plants in the Winter die in the very Spits of Dung, when undung’d drill’d Wheat, adjoining to it, planted at the same Time, has flourish’d all the same Winter; and I could, not find any other Reason for this, but the Hollowness of the Dung; and yet it seemed to be well rotted.

But ’tis hard to know how long the Warmth of this Ferment lasteth, by reason of the great Difficulty to distinguish the very least Degree of Heat from the very least Degree of Cold.

Under the Name of Dung we may also understand whatever ferments with the Earth (except Fire); such as green Vegetables cover’d in the Ground, _&c._

As to the Difference of the Quantity of artificial Pasture made by _Dung_ without Tillage, and that made by Tillage without _Dung_; the latter is many Times greater, of which I had the following Proof. An unplow’d Land, wherein a Dunghil had lain for two or three Years, and being taken away, was planted with _Turneps_; at the same time a till’d Land, contiguous thereto, was drill’d with _Turneps_, and Horse-ho’d; the other, being Hand-ho’d, prospered best at the first; but at last did not amount to the Fifth Part of the Till’d and Horse-ho’d, in Bigness, nor in Crop. The Benefit of the Dung and Hand-hoe was so inconsiderable, in comparison of the Plough and Hoe-plough; the little Quantity of artificial Pasture raised to the other, was only near the Surface, and did not reach deep enough to maintain the _Turneps_, till they arrived at the Fifth Part of the Growth of those, whose artificial Pasture reach’d to the Bottom of the Staple of the Land.

A like Proof is; that several Lands of _Turneps_, drill’d on the Level, at three Foot Rows, plow’d, and doubly dung’d, and also Horse-ho’d, did not produce near so good a Crop of _Turneps_, as Six Foot Ridges adjoining, Horse-ho’d, tho’ no Dung had been laid thereon for many Years: There was no other Difference, than that the three Foot Rows did not admit the Hoe-plough to raise half the artificial Pasture, as the Six Foot Rows did. The Dung plow’d into the narrow Intervals, before drilling, could operate no further, with any great Effect, than the Hoe-plough could turn it up, and help in its Pulveration.

_Dung_, without Tillage, can do very little; with some Tillage doth something; with much Tillage pulverizes the Soil in less Time, than Tillage alone can do; but the Tillage alone, with more Time, can pulverize as well: This the Experiments of _artificially_ pulverizing of the poorest Land, as they are related by Mr. _Evelyn_, fully prove.

And these Experiments are the more to be depended on, as they are made both in _England_ and _Holland_ by Persons of known Integrity.

This Truth is also further confirmed by those Authors who have found, that High-way Dust alone is a Manure preferable to Dung: And all these Pulverations being made by Attrition or Contusion, why should not our Instruments of Pulveration, in Time, reduce a sufficient Part of the Staple of a dry friable Soil, to a Dust equal to that of a Highway?

The common Proportion of Dung used in the Field pulverizes only a small Part of the Staple: but how long a time may be required for our Instruments to pulverize an equal Part, it depending much upon the Weather, and the Degree of Friability of the Soil, is uncertain.

I have seen surprising Effects from Ground, after being kept unexhausted, by plowing with common Ploughs for Two whole Years running: And I am confident, that the Expence of this extraordinary Tillage and Fallow will not, in many Places, amount to above half the Expence of a dressing with Dung; and if the Land be all the Time kept in our Sort of little Ridges of the Size most proper for that Purpose, the Expence of plowing will be diminished one half; besides the Advantage the Earth of such Ridges hath, of being friable in Weather which is too moist for plowing the same Land on the Level.

I have made many Trials of fine _Dung_ on the Rows; and, notwithstanding the Benefit of it, I have, for these several Years last past, left it off, finding that a little more Hoeing will supply it at a much less Expence, than that of so small a Quantity of Manure, and of the Hands necessary to lay it on, and of the Carriage.

CHAP. V.

_Of_ TILLAGE.

Tillage is breaking and dividing the Ground by Spade, Plough, Hoe, or other Instruments, which divide by a Sort of Attrition (or Contusion) as Dung does by Fermentation[22].

[22] _Neque enim aliud est Colere quam Resolvere, & Fermentare Terram._ Columella.

And since the artificial Pasture of Plants is made and increas’d by Pulveration, ’tis no Matter whether it be by the Ferment of _Dung_, the Attrition of the _Plough_, the Contusion of the _Roller_, or by any other Instrument or Means whatsoever, except by Fire, which carries away all the Cement of that which is burnt.

By Dung we are limited to the Quantity of it we can procure, which in most Places is too scanty: But by Tillage, we can inlarge our Field of subterranean Pasture without Limitation, tho’ the external Surface of it be confin’d within narrow Bounds: Tillage may extend the Earth’s internal Superficies, in proportion to the Division of its Parts; and as Division is infinite, so may that Superficies be.

Every Time the Earth is broken by any Sort of Tillage, or Division, there must arise some new Superficies of the broken Parts, which never has been open before. For when the Parts of Earth are once united and incorporated together, ’tis morally impossible, that they, or any of them, should be broken again, only in the same Places; for to do that, such Parts must have again the same numerical Figures and Dimensions they had before such Breaking, which even by an infinite Division could never be likely to happen: As the Letters of a Distichon, cut out and mixt, if they should be thrown up never so often, would never be likely to fall into the same Order and Position with one another, so as to recompose the same Distich.

Although the internal Superficies may have been drain’d by a preceding Crop, and the next Plowing may move many of the before divided Parts, without new-breaking them; yet such as are new-broken, have, at such Places where they are so broken, a new Superficies, which never was, or did exist before; because we cannot reasonably suppose, that any of those Parts can have in all places (if in any Places) the same Figure and Dimensions twice.