914 
June 21, 1924 
The RURAL NEW-YORKER 
Hope Farm Notes 
The so-called “French Line” where 
Montcalm’s soldiers held off the English 
in July, 1758, looks today like a shallow 
zigzag ditch running across the high 
land in front of Fort Tieonderoga.. The 
original defense was built of logs piled 
one upon another seven or eight feet 
high. These logs of course have long 
since disappeared. The earthworks now 
seen were thrown up later. The line, 
however, is said to be on the exact spot 
where the battle was fought. It was 
more of a slaughter than a battle. Mont¬ 
calm had about 4,000 men, while Aber- 
eromby had 15.000. Up to within a few 
days of the battle the French were un¬ 
decided whether to abandon the fort and 
retreat or make a stand. They did not 
even know just where to form their line. 
At the last moment they decided to build 
this line of defense. Apparently they 
went right out into the thick woods and 
cleared a wide strip through the forest. 
The trunks were piled up into a sort of 
long fort, and the limbs were placed so 
that their sharpened ends stuck out to 
impede the enemy. It was all done with¬ 
in two or three days—a tremendous piece 
of work. Cannons were placed along the 
line and the French soldiers stood three 
deep behind it with Indians and Cana¬ 
dians swarming at. the sides. 
* * * * * 
It is said that Montcalm figured on 
the blunders of the English general rather 
than on this hastily prepared fort. The 
English might have brought up their can¬ 
non and pounded these logs into splinters. 
They might have gone around the side 
and cut the French off, or they could 
have climbed a high hill called Mount De¬ 
fiance, planted cannon there and domi¬ 
nated both the fort and the camp. Mont¬ 
calm, a wise general, saw the danger in 
all these possibilities but he guessed that 
Abercromby would come straight on with 
all the courage and stupidity of a mad 
bull, and he guessed right. Down through 
the history of the world, in every human 
activity, these two opposite methods of 
gaining advantage have been observed. At 
Bunker Hill the British might easily have 
surrounded the Americans and starved 
them out. Instead of that they came on 
with bull-headed courage and lost over 
1,000 men. During the Great War these 
two methods of fighting were typified by 
Hindenberg and Foch. One smashed in 
with brutal power, the other fell back 
or sidestepped and led the enemy into a 
trap. Much the same thing occurred 
when, years ago, John L. Sullivan, the 
prizefighter, met Corbett the boxer. John 
L. smashed in without much science, and 
wore himself out, while Corbett danced 
out of the way until Sullivan had tired 
himself out. Then he was easy. All 
through history we have examples of this 
contest between bull strength and brain 
power, and in the end the brains always 
win. As I stood on the old French line 
that day I thought of the long struggle 
which farmers and country people have 
made ever since a few farseeing men 
stopped farming, hunting and fishing, and 
began to handle and sell what the others 
produced, or to manufacture the crude 
tools and weapons which up to that time 
each man made for himself. In earliest 
times no doubt most weapons and tools 
were simply stones of various shapes 
fastened’ in some way to sticks. Some 
man brighter than the rest perhaps dis¬ 
covered a deposit of flat and sharp flint 
stones, and learned some new way of 
fastening them to a stick, lie became 
the first manufacturer of agricultural 
tools and weapons, and no doubt took to 
himself new airs and social powers. From 
this beginning slowly came the great 
armies of soldier's, manufacturers, mer¬ 
chants and others who handle and make 
over what the farmer produces. In order 
to provide living jobs for all these han¬ 
dlers and middlemen more and more must 
be taken from the portion of labor which 
formerly went to the farmer, miner, lum¬ 
berman and trapper. The long, world- 
old struggle on the part of the farmer has 
been to hold somewhat in check the hordes 
df people who w r ant to educate and gov¬ 
ern and provide for him, and make him 
pay the wages which they dictate. The 
men who stood behind those breastworks 
at Tieonderoga and slaughtered the 
crowds which marched solidly against 
them reminded me of the organized forces 
of education, government service and 
special privilege—well drilled and organ¬ 
ized, knowing just what they want. The 
brave men who rushed upon them straight 
to death seem to me typical of most of 
the farm movements which have started 
since the Civil War. The farm leaders 
seem to have felt that they must smash 
right in and get results at once. In many 
cases, if they could have waited patient¬ 
ly and out-maneuvered the other side they 
would, in the end, have gained the ad¬ 
vantage, but they were afraid of their 
followers and could not, somehow get the 
highest conception of what leadership 
means. Some men seem to think that it 
means hanging on to your job as leader, 
while others gain the high conception of 
sacrificing yourself if need be in order 
that public thought may grow slowly and 
solidly up to the point where men will 
have patience to carry the work through. 
When Roosevelt broke away from the Re¬ 
publican party some of us advised him 
not to do it. We thought he had a case, 
but we did not believe the average party 
man was in a position to be convinced. 
We thought it would be better for Roose¬ 
velt to protest and let the situation work 
out. If he were right events would 
prove it so surely that he would have 
been master of the situation. He chose 
to operate like the British at Tieonderoga 
and Bunker Hill, or the Union Army at 
Fredericksburg. Too many farmers want 
every reform at once. They forget that 
wrongs which have accumulated through 
centuries cannot be wiped out by sudden 
legislation. One full generation must suf¬ 
fer in order that the next one may have 
a better life. 
* * * * % 
But what a July day that must have 
been in the North Woods 166 years ago. 
The English were brave men, and they 
came on like bulldogs, only to be tan¬ 
gled in the obstructions. The French just 
stood there and shot them down. It was 
a hot day, and Montcalm, the French 
general, with his coat off, ran back and 
forth behind the line directing the de¬ 
fense. The French lost 377 men, the 
English 1,044. The latter could have 
come back with cannon and smashed the 
defenses, but their spirit was broken, and 
the army l-etreated down the lake. The 
Black Watch, a noted Highland regiment, 
was in the battle. One of Kipling’s 
poems is based on the story of how 
Mr. Duncan Campbell received a ghost¬ 
ly waiming that he was to die at Tieon¬ 
deroga. As we rode through the town I 
saw a library building erected by Andrew 
Carnegie to the memory of the Black 
Watch. About half a mile back of the 
“French Line” is what is left of the 
old fort. The ruins are well preserved, 
and it is one of the most interesting 
spots in America. There are both Eng¬ 
lish and French cannons still mounted in 
the fort—the Fi-ench guns seem of much 
finer workmanship. It is a great mystery 
to me how such armies as we read of in 
history could ever be crowded into this 
comparatively small fort. Whei’e were 
they housed, and how could men ever 
keep warm in Winter? That seems the 
most remarkable thing of all. The houses 
or huts where the men were housed are 
built of stone. Here and there are old 
fireplaces, but they must have been wholly 
inadequate when gx-eat snowdrifts spread 
over the fort, and zero weather settled 
upon them. Pax-kman tells of the horrors 
of the first Winters at Quebec. It was 
garx-isoned by Fi-ench soldiers from the 
south of France and they had no con¬ 
ception of the fearful cold which was to 
settle upon them. They laid in a short 
supply of wood, and Winter suddenly 
descended upon them with drifts up to the 
top of their palisades, and frost which 
bit them to the bone. Many of them died 
and the few remaining came out in Spiing 
frostbitten and feeble. We cannot realize 
today what these white men endured in 
order that this land might be civilized. 
With the passing of the wilderness and 
the end of cheap land we have lost in 
this country much of the old pioneer 
spirit which really made the America of 
yesterday. It is quite doubtful if we 
could find in most parts of the country 
a company of white men who would be 
willing to endure the suffering these old- 
timers endured—certainly not for the re¬ 
wards which came to them. In these 
days the lonely Fort Ticonderogas are 
“too far from Bi*oadway.” If the white 
men suffered within these stone walls 
what must have been the fate of the In¬ 
dians in their thin wigwams, with only 
a blanket or a bearskin to cover them? 
I think long years of endurance made 
the Indian less sensitive to pain. Old 
soldiers who served on the western 
prairies tell me they have seen Indians 
clad only in leggings and a blanket lie 
for hours in the snow and shoot with 
steady hand, while white men warmly 
clad could hardly pull a trigger. We 
saw the gate where Ethan Allen and his 
Gi*een Mountain boys entered the fort at 
the outbreak of the Revolution. Some of 
the very men who broke into the fort that 
May morning had tried unsuccessfully to 
break the French line years befoi'e. I 
thought as I stood beside the French can¬ 
nons which now guard this gate, how 
Benedict Arnold was one of these raiders. 
The old stone house inside the fort is 
now used as a museum. There is a won¬ 
derful collection of relics—ranging from 
Indian scalps to captured banners. The 
scalps were smaller than I expected, but 
it is said that the Indians came to be 
good business men. They would cut off 
about all the hair on a victim’s head and 
then cut it up and get several time the 
usual bounty! Among other things I 
found a very fine historical library in 
this building. There seemed to be a 
complete collection of books covering the 
struggle between England and France for 
this northern land. I would give much if 
1 could spend a month going through 
these books. A young man. evidently the 
keeper, sat between two wax figures read¬ 
ing a book. The figures represented a 
French soldier, life size, and a Scotch 
Highlander. The young man was so in¬ 
terested in his book that at first I thought 
him another wax figure. Ah, I thought, 
here is a kindred spirit, a man soaking 
himself to the top of the soul in the his¬ 
tory of this region ! He is a man to be 
envied. His days are spent with a goodly 
company. Frontenac, Montcalm. Cham¬ 
plain, Rogers. Lewis and all the rest. 
A glorious life he lives! 
But when I got close up to him—what 
do you suppose he was reading? 
"Cappy Ricks!” 
Well, perhaps some of us oldtimers 
are more interested in history than we 
ought to be. No doubt Cappy Ricks 
was a bigger man than Frontenac! 
H. W. C. 
More About That “Mother’s Day” 
I have read both Mrs. Willcox’s 
“Mother’s Day Any Day,” and Mrs. A. 
S. C.’s “More About Mother’s Day.” I 
laughed at Mrs. Willcox’s article, and 
enjoyed it thoroughly, for I am able to 
appreciate it, being a farmers wife and 
mother of an unfashionably large family 
numbering seven. Mrs. A. T. C. talk's 
very learnedly on a subject on which she 
may have much “book lamin’,” but no 
practical experience. If she had to spread 
the time she has spent on perfect table 
n.annex-8 for one over four pupils, pei 1 - 
haps she would find naughty tricks creep¬ 
ing in despite her best efforts. Mrs. Will- 
cox does not say that Marion is allowed 
to eat oatmeal with a fork, merely that 
she tried to. I have had experience with 
people trying to eat pie with a spoon, 
potatoes with a knife and, worse yet, 
“sopping” bread in cocoa. It requires 
enternal vigilance to train so many, but 
while my bunch would not be able to set 
table manners for the Century Club ban¬ 
quet to copy, they are all improving, and 
The picture of these two small farmers was taken while they were having their 
morning ride. The dog (Sport) who is with the boy is a guard as well as a com¬ 
panion for the boy, and seems to enjoy the ride as well as the boy, who is proud to 
have him for a playmate. When the horse is in the team plowing the dog likes to 
ride back and forth across the field nearly as well as he does to run rabbits. 
Saratoga Co., N. Y. harold van dewerker. 
do, I think, fairly well for small people. 
When I read these two lettei's aloud, 
Betty, aged nine, said : “Mother, I read 
a story about a little boy who refused to 
use the finger bowl and said, ‘No, ma’am ! 
Mother makes me wash my hands before 
meals.’ ” 
Mrs. A. T. C. would find that four 
children make moi’e litter than one does, 
no matter how well ti-ained they are, and 
she has never yet had to wrestle with the 
pioblem of sending four young people (o 
school, doing “home work,” putting up 
lunches and seeing that they are clean 
and their clothes in good repair. A wise 
woman (with no children) told me. 
“Why, I would pack it all in one basket. 
Put in a loaf of bread, some bxitter, and 
their milk in a quart can. It would be 
fi’eshei- for them and save you so much 
work.” I didn’t laugh in her face, either. 
There are many things small children, 
no matter how well trained, cannot do. 
Winter bedding in this north country is 
too heavy and large for small girls ro 
handle and keep off the floor. I always 
objected to using my bedding for mops. 
Going to school does not leave much time, 
either, on Winter mornings to do choi'es. 
Mrs. A. T. C. would find that 6 o’clock 
rising did not leave much margin by the 
time she had four children fed and ready 
to leave the house at 8.30. prepared for a 
day’s battle with the elements and the 
Education Department. 
Has Mrs. A. T. C. ever studied the re- 
ports of the Department of Agriculture 
as to the relative nutritive values of 
homemade and bakers’ breads? Perhaps 
she is wealthy enough to be free from the 
necessity of cutting corners, so the fact 
stated by the Depai’tment of Agriculture 
that the baker makes a px-ofit of 4 cents 
on evere S-eent loaf does not appeal to 
hex'. 
Mrs. A. T. C.’s lonely, wee son has not 
yet reached the "hungry boy” age. When 
he does she will leai'ii much. Only one 
who has baked for a family of growing 
boys and girls can realize how much they 
can eat. Homemade bread (I bake three 
times in two weeks, 10 big loaves and 20 
biscuits each time), with a few johnny- 
cakes, pancakes and soda biscuits, cookies 
at least 200 a week, and a cake a day, 
all go into the cavities here, besides vege¬ 
tables. meat (vei-y little), and other items 
too numerous to mention. Eet Mrs. A. 
T. C. use her arithmetic figuring what 
that would cost from the bakery. I have 
seen some bakery back doors, also their 
cooks, and prefer my own mussiness, 
thank you. 
I do my own washing, and make but¬ 
ter from six cows. I care for the garden • 
plant and tend it all Summer, and do all 
the sewing for the family also. My chil¬ 
dren are fine about helping, but they 
must go to school, and there is always a 
lot left for mother to do, because they 
haven’t “old heads on young shoulders.” 
I am busy and happy. ‘Let us hope that 
after Mrs. A. T. 0. has lived on the farm 
for 10 yeax-s instead of two and a half, 
and had four children instead of one, she 
will be more charitable toward the poor 
benighted farmers’ wives than she is now. 
MRS. JAMES D. MOORE. 
St. Lawrence Co., N. Y. 
A Pennsylvania Mother’s Opinion 
May I add my bit to “Mother's Day”? 
I have read with keen interest the article 
by Mrs. Willcox on page 312, and I 
might say keener interest all letters 
printed about it. I was sure when I 
started to l'ead Mrs. A. L. C.’s article on 
page 546 that she was a maiden lady, as 
she seemed to know all about children. I 
myself confess to knowing nothing about 
how to raise the other woman’s, as I 
have seven of my own, and each one pre¬ 
sents a different problem in management. 
Mrs. A. L. C.’s three-yeax--old may know 
how to use the finger bowl, but I feel sure 
if our three-year-old used it at all he 
would take a drink out of it, as he is just 
a healthy, happy little animal, like all 
ordinary babies. I certainly agree with 
Mrs. M. E. C., on page 707, that boys 
know when they are dealt with fairly. 
While our eldest is only 12 years old, he 
is allowed to have hie own opinions tried 
out to a reasonable extent about the 
farm, and he can give his mother pointers 
on pruning -trees and putting the work 
harness on the team. That is his joke 
oi» mother, as she failed to get it on 
straight. 
I certainly felt sorry for Tim’s stom¬ 
ach ache, for it is terrible to have a stom¬ 
ach that will not hold as much of moth¬ 
er’s cooking as your appetite demands. 
As for Mrs. Willcox’s article, after look¬ 
ing at her picture I could not believe it 
was altogether a picture of her day at 
home, but a mental picture of what some 
of our days seem like. But, even so, I 
would like to say that I would much 
rather be one of her four, with mother’s 
homemade bread and that good cake, than 
a lonesome little boy that eats baker’s 
bread and knows as much at three as 
most children do at the age of six or 
eight. 
I do all my own work, as we would be 
hungry some days if we depended on get¬ 
ting to the store for baker’s bread, but 
each child is taught to do what he can, 
and we all find time to pet and cuddle a 
wee tiny baby girl which came to oure 
house six months ago. My 12-year-o)rd 
and also 10-yeai--old boys can keep her 
for an evening while I go to a neighbors 
or attend Grange. E. ly 1 . g. 
Pennsylvania. / 
) 
i 
5 
