A Walk from London to John OGroats | Page 6

the
Alderman's doings are all gammon; that they are all to advertise his
cutlery business in Leadenhall Street, Barnum fashion; to inveigle
down to Tiptree Hall noblemen, foreign ambassadors, and great people
of different countries, and bribe "an honourable mention" out of them
with champagne treats and oyster suppers. Indeed, my Quaker host
largely participated in this opinion, and took no pains to conceal it

when speaking of his enterprising neighbor.
From what I had read and heard of the Tiptree Hall estate, I expected to
see a grand, old, baronial mansion, surrounded with elegant and costly
buildings for housing horses, cattle, sheep, and other live stock, all
erected on a scale which no bona fide farmer could adopt or
approximately imitate. In a word, I fancied his barns and stables would
even surpass in this respect the establishments of some of those most
wealthy New York or Boston merchants, who think they are
stimulating country farmers to healthy emulation by lavishing from
thirty to forty thousand dollars on a barn and its appurtenant out-houses.
With these preconceived ideas, it was an unexpected satisfaction to see
quite a simple-looking, unassuming establishment, which any
well-to-do farmer might make and own. The house is rather a large and
solid-looking building, erected by Mr. Mechi himself, but not at all
ostentatious of wealth or architectural taste. The barns and "steddings,"
or what we call cowhouses in America, are of a very ordinary cast, or
such as any country-bred farmer would call economical and simple.
The homestead occupies no picturesque site, and commands no
interesting scenery. The farm consists of about 170 acres, which, in
England, is regarded as a rather small holding. The land is naturally
sterile and hard of cultivation, most of it apparently being heavily
mixed with ferruginous matter. When ploughed deeply, the clods
turned up look frequently like compact masses of iron ore. Every
experienced farmer knows the natural poverty of such a soil, and the
hard labor to man and beast it costs to till it.
To my great regret, Mr. Mechi was not at home, though he passes most
of his time in Summer at Tiptree. But his foreman, who enters into all
the experiments and operations which have made the establishment so
famous, with almost equal interest and enthusiasm, took me through the
farm buildings, and all the fields, and showed me the whole process
and machinery employed. Any English or American agriculturist who
has read of Alderman Mechi's operations, would be inclined to ask, on
looking, for the first time, at his buildings and the fields surrounding
them, what is the great distinguishing speciality of his enterprise. His
land is poor; his housings are simple; there is no outside show of

uncommon taste or genius. Every acre is tile-drained, to be sure. But
that is nothing new nor uncommon. Drainage is the order of the day.
Any tenant farmer in England can have his land drained by the
Government by paying six per cent. annually on the cost of the job. His
expenditure for artificial manure does not exceed that of hundreds of
good farmers. He carries out the deep tillage system most liberally. So
do other scientific agriculturalists in Europe and America. Of course, a
few hours' observation would not suffice for a full and correct
conclusion on this point, but it gave me the impression that the great
operation which has won for the Tiptree Farm its special distinction is
its irrigation with liquid manure. In this respect it stands unrivalled, and,
perhaps, unimitated. And this, probably, is the head and front of his
offending to those who criticise his economy and decry his
experiments.
This irrigation is performed through the medium of a small steam
engine and sixteen hydrants, so posted and supplied with hose as to
reach every square foot of the 170 acres. The water used for this
purpose is mostly, if not entirely, supplied from the draining pipes,
even in the dryest season. The manure thus liquified is made by a
comparatively small number of animals. Calves to the value of 50
pounds are bought, and fat stock to that of 500 pounds are sold
annually. They are all stabled throughout the year, except in harvest
time, when they are turned out for a few weeks to rowen feed. The
calves are housed until a year old in a large stedding by themselves.
They are then transferred to another building, and put upon "the
boards;" that is in a long stable or cowhouse, with a flooring of slats,
through which the manure drops into a cellar below, made water-tight.
Here the busiest little engine in the world is brought to bear upon it,
with all its faculties of suction and propulsion. Through one pipe it
forces fresh water in upon this mass