1835.] 



FARMERS' REGISTER, 



357 



forms a Stratum of many feet in thickness, with 

 oyster shells of immense size scattered over and 

 under the surface every where,and occasionally 

 the petrified remains of salt water fish. I think it 

 probable when these lands first emerged from the 

 ocean they were unwooded, and unfit for vegeta- 

 ble life, but that by the influence of heat and mois- 

 ture, and other agents, they gave lile to some of 

 the inferior grasses. That the annual decay oi 

 these grasses gave an accession of vegetable mat- 

 ter to the earth, which by repeated rains has been 

 washed down the hills. That this increase of ve- 

 getable matter thereby, has given growth to trees, 

 which in turn, by the great annual increase of it, 

 from the falling of their leaves, has continued the 

 growth, increased the fertility, and given color to 

 the earth. Any one standing on the summit of 

 one of these elevations, will notice trees growing 

 wherever the slope of the ground would natural- 

 ly wash the soil to, and no trees growing where 

 it would wash from. The same is to be observed 

 where ravines of even very gentle slope extend to 

 any distance up the hills. He will observe also 

 on many of the knobs of the hills there are small 

 levels in which the lime, in a pure, state, shows it- 

 self in lumps, protruding out of the earth, and 

 there trees are generally growiug, because being 

 level, the first grasses did not wash off. 



That the coloring of the earth is given by the 

 quantity and the quality of the vegetable matter 

 in it, I infer from observing that in every place 

 where a single tree has grown on the bald prairie, 

 that that spot is always of a different and a dark- 

 er color than the surrounding soil, and yet never 

 as dark as in the dense forest. That trees gener- 

 ally dye a black color, for such is the general co- 

 lor of the prairies. Where you see decided 

 shades in the color of the soil, you will see a rea- 

 son for it in ihe kind of trees growing on it. There 

 is a large class of lands called the "post oak prai- 

 ries," where the soil is rich and very light colored, 

 and the fact is, the post oak bark makes a light co- 

 lored dye. 



The theory that, the prairies were kept free from 

 trees by the annual Indian fires, is unsatisfactory, 

 as that cause would be uniform in its effects in all 

 prairies, and all other lands, and so soon as the 

 cause should cease, as it has done here for many 

 years, we should see bushes springing up indis- 

 criminately every where, which is not the fact. 

 The growth of bushes is every year diminishing 

 the extent of the bald prairies; but they are uni- 

 form in their encroachments, and only on these 

 parts where, from the position of the ground, they 

 have the opportunity of receiving a greater depo- 

 site of vegetable matter. This however, is a mat- 

 ter of theoretical speculation, which may be left to 

 others more conversant with the subject, and bet- 

 ter able to decide correctly. I shall proceed to 

 what is of more consequence to the practical plan- 

 ter. 



The prairies are calcareous soils, and possess 

 the quality of chemical combination with all pu- 

 trescent animal and vegetable matter, so that none 

 is lost. If this be a fact, almost every prairie 

 planter has within his farm, the means, in ample 

 abundance, of keeping his lands rich, and of rest- 

 ing such as have been worn, and with infinitely 

 less labor in its application than any other class of 

 planters in the United States. For evidence that 

 they are calcareous soils, and possess the quality of 



chemical combination attributed to them, I refer 

 to the Essay on Calcareous Manures. As a plan- 

 ter, 1 thank the author for the valuable information 

 contained in that essay. It should be in the hands 

 of every prairie planter, as it points to more means 

 of improving his land than all else that has been 

 written on the subject. The fact, however, must 

 have come under every one's observation, who 

 considers what becomes of the very large mass of 

 leaves that are every autumn scattered on the 

 ground, and are not to be seen in the spring. 

 They are stuck to the earth by the winter's rains, 

 and are used up by the lime; that is, the products 

 of their decay are not evaporated, but are held in 

 combination, no part, is lost, and it all becomes 

 manure; and it is to this that we are indebted lor 

 our very fine soils. Such being the fact then, it 

 would seem reasonable that the planter should use 

 the most practicable means of placing within the 

 reach of that combination, all the vegetable mat- 

 ter he can. And first in the class of means, is to 

 convert to his use the many tons of leaves annual- 

 ly deposited on the sandy woodlands he designs 

 to clear. On them he should wagon and spread 

 10, 15, or more loads of the prairie earth, and 

 scatter over the surface, and they would not be 

 evaporated and lost under this powerful sun, but 

 would be combined in a great measure with the 

 lime, and then fixed as manure. The nearness 

 of the prairies to such lands on most plantations, 

 would make this an easy task. A wagon and cart 

 ought to manure ten or twelve acres a week. 

 Lime for this purpose is much used in England, 

 and in the northern states, and in quantities some- 

 times as great as several hundred bushels to the 

 acre, where the cost of the material and its con- 

 veyance are both great. The hauling of leaves 

 from the woods, and scattering them in the alleys 

 of the cotton and corn rows to be listed in, and to 

 be within the bed of the ensuing year, would also 

 be attended with inconsiderable trouble. The 

 greatest trouble will be to make up the mind to do 

 it, and to commence it. 



The most important use of the fact will be to in- 

 duce the planter to list his lands. This is done in 

 two ways; the best, though the most tedious, is 

 to run a furrow in the centre of the alleys of the 

 last year, and to pull up the cotton and corn stalks 

 and lay them in with the buts or root ends all in 

 one direction, trampling them with the feet, so as 

 to break the large limbs, and with the hoe draw 

 from the old beds the grass, weeds, and surface 

 soil on them, and with two cuts of a mould-board 

 or shovel plough to lap the earth on them. The 

 plough should commence the covering at the root 

 end, as the stalks are less displaced by it, and 

 though many of the limbs will show out of the 

 covering, it will be of no consequence. This 

 should be done as early in the winter as your cot- 

 ton is gathered. A much more expeditious mode 

 of listing, is to do the same, thing, except not to use 

 the hoe at all; and this is done with less than half 

 the labor expended in pulling up the stalks, col- 

 lecting them into heaps, and burning them. You 

 give by this tedious labor, this consuming, waste- 

 ful, and unplanter-like practice, a mass of mate- 

 rials to the air, worth more as a manure, than all 

 your cotton seed. Only see how many large piles 

 an acre of fine cotton stalks would make, and then 

 calculate how much you throw away that would 

 be converted into a valuable manure by chemical 



