Tempus fugit:
Farmers’ Almanacs as Diaries by
Alan Borer
Many
Americans have no more contact with the agrarian world than the occasional
glance at the Old Farmer’s Almanac. Published annually since 1792, this creation
of Robert B. Thomas is now on the steroids of modern marketing and online
advertising. It still provides guesstimates
of what the weather will bring, along with arcane astrological information,
planting by the moon, and witty asides.
It brings back the rural world of our forebears. But were they ever actually used by farmers,
or as an actual source of farm information?
The editors and publishers of the farmers’ almanacs were quick to point
out that their predictions had no guarantees.
The information contained in an almanac was based on secrets,
statistics, and luck. But except as
reading material, and later, as toilet paper, did farmers actually use the
almanac? And if they were, in what
ways?
Facts
about the readership of a publication as ephemeral as an almanac are themselves
ephemeral. We know that thousands were
read, and that hundreds were kept. They
were kept for scratch paper, for nostalgia, and through a lack of time to make
clear decisions about their preservation.
Many were saved by throwing them in the attic or barn. But a precious few were saved as notepads, as
diaries, or as farm record books.
Almanacs used in these ways may give us some clues about how they readers
used them. Evidence suggests that “farmer”
and “almanac” was not just a fantasy, but in some cases, were a real thing.
Almanacs
have a long history. Often the only
printed words in a home, after the Bible and, possibly, a prayer book, colonial
Americans used the almanac to predict something out of their control: the
weather. Weather, and the growing season
predicated by the weather, was handy to know in an agrarian world. Any publication that offered advice on how to
control or predict the weather was bound to be popular. Before 1800, the almanacs were among the most
popular books of the day.
As long as America was mostly rural, the almanac
maintained a hold on the popular imagination.
As the nineteenth century progressed, and mechanization and urbanization
grew, the almanacs remained the same, but with a smaller audience. From roughly 1820 to 1890, almanacs fell into
two categories. Institutional almanacs,
published by newspapers, church denominations, and perhaps most notoriously,
political parties, proliferated. Our
collective memory, such as it is, still contains the “Davy Crocket” almanacs of
the 1830s and the “Tippecanoe” almanacs of the election of 1840. They helped elect a congressman and a
president.
The other category of almanacs was the “farmers”
almanacs, which continued to predict the weather, the crops, and the
astronomical events of the year. As the
rural population declined, an element of nostalgia crept into their pages, as
newly urbanized workers recalled, sometimes wistfully, the rural life they knew
as children. By 1890, when the census
showed that America was no longer a nation with a frontier, fond yet selective
memories of “grandfather’s farm” were sometimes the only exposure to country
life people could claim. The keyword
there was ‘grandfather;’ farming, and the almanacs they chronicled, were
increasingly a thing of the past.
To understand the past, we need contemporaneous written
words. Certainly a printed almanac can
be used to view the past, but if an almanac contains notes, we have, in effect,
a stereo view: a tool, and, how the tool was used. Most readers of almanacs left no comment, but
a few did. Half a lifetime spent in
libraries and archives have given me a few rare glimpses of almanacs that were heavily
annotated. Several almanacs I have seen contain
marginal notes on weather, daily events, and lists, whether of cows to be bred
or of things bought and sold. I have no
real idea how many almanacs were used this way, but I have seen enough to know
they are not unique. Here are a few examples:
1910 Baugh’s Farmers’ Almanac
One almanac/diary I have studied was published by the
Baugh & Sons Company for the year 1910.
Founded in 1855, Baugh and Sons was, at one time, the oldest
agricultural chemical company in the United States. Specializing in bone meal applications for a
variety of crops, the Philadelphia based company advertised their wares in part
through a yearly almanac. Appearing from
about 1900 to 1923, the almanac contained the usual astronomical charts,
coupled with pages advertising the company’s products.
The almanac in question was used as a diary of the work
year. Blank lines for each month provided
enough space for use as a diary starting in March. The diarist, who did not leave us his name,
lived and worked in Cumberland County, New Jersey. That he was a farmer quickly becomes
apparent. Starting in April he sowed
oats; in May he plowed for and planted corn; the rest of the summer and fall
were taken up with making hay, husking corn, and chopping wood. Hunting was a pastime; our diarist called it
“gunning; and noted on November 26 that he “killed three rabbits.”
Cumberland County borders on the Atlantic Ocean, on
Delaware Bay. The diarist lived and farmed
in a very mild climate. Living near the
beach, his soil was sandy, and he was able to grow and harvest many truck
crops. He “worked in melons” on June 18-19;
later in the month, he planted watermelons and sweet potatoes. On August 20, he “set out celery.” In other places he mentions peas,
strawberries, and “b berries,” without specifying blue or black.
The farmer frequently mentioned using smelt, or smelts,
as fish fertilizer. “Disk Smelt P. M.,” he
wrote on May 27. On June 6, he “set out
smelts,” later in the month he specified that he used smelt to fertilize
potatoes. Assuming he was right about
the species of fish, this raises a host of questions. Fish have been used as fertilizer for
centuries, but not always successfully.
Smelt populations are variable; North Pacific smelt are endangered;
Great Lakes stocks are dwindling. Our
farmer used manure as well as fish. Did
he use smelt simply because it was plentiful in 1910? Or was there another reason?
1812 Wood’s Almanac
In a fairly
battered condition, the Wood’s Almanac was a Quaker publication. Samuel Wood (????-1844) was a New York City
bookseller and publisher, starting in 1803.
He specialized in children’s books with many illustrations and morals.[i] Published irregularly from at least 1811 to
1831, the astronomical calculations were made by one Joshua Sharp, who provided
content for several midatlantic publishers.
The original owner of this almanac made notations around
the margin of each month’s information.
He or she made notes of nearly every day of the month, exclusively on
the weather. For example, on the March
page, they wrote “Natural Snow Storm 16[th];” “misty 17;” “cold 19:20 [19 &
20].” Other days of the month were
listed along the left or right margins of the monthly text. Some months contained more detail than
others; some months more (or less) days were skipped. Every entry that I could find addressed the
weather.
In the modern era, we are sufficiently sheltered from the
weather and its extremes that we only pay attention to the weather if we are
interested. Farmers still watch the
skies, and many urban gardeners still complain about the lack or overabundance
of rain. But two hundred years ago, the
weather was a constant obsession, at least for this reader. Whether he prayed or gave thanks for change
is unrecorded, but fascinated he certainly was.
1814 Farmer’s Almanac
The final example is in the worst shape, yet is the most
elaborate use of an almanac as journal.
The original owner, again unnamed, kept a beautifully written, miniscule
commentary of the year and then pasted in a separate monthly log in between the
two facing pages allowed for each month.
He or she also removed the iconic print symbolizing each month’s weather
or work. I am not quite clear why,
possibly to show the forthcoming month.
Whoever created this folk-calendar, the writing is still
perfectly clear and legible. Most
entries kept track of daily weather conditions, but a few other comments can be
found by the patient reader. On April 8
the “grey goose set.” On the 12th
of that same month, “began to plow.”
“John Blasdel …took his Pig” on May 26.
“Washed Sheep” and “sheared sheep” were the chores for June 3 and
8. For July 30 was the day to “cut
Barley” and “finished pulling Flax.” It
took several dictionaries to decipher the entry of May 15: “Cow enixa” or gave
birth. Not every day was about
agriculture, especially in wartime: September 12: “Soldiers off to Portsmouth;”
October 7: “fair, windy, cold,
Regimental Muster.” Births and deaths
were sometimes recorded; “Captain Hallaburton buried” on April 19th. Yet the main work of the year, the family
farm, never ended.
While we do not have the farmer’s name, the farm was
somewhere in or near Candia, New Hampshire; several of his neighbors can be
traced to there. The diarist frequently
mentioned Exeter and Portsmouth, two cities about twenty-five miles apart. That was a day’s trip in 1814; today it would
be less than an hour by car. Have we
made progress? Depends on your point of view.
So we have come full circle,
starting and finishing with Thomson and his Old
Farmer’s Almanac. Although no
sweeping statement can be made, it appears that, at least in some places and
some cases, farmers did and do use almanacs.
How an individual farmer used them is probably as broad and different as
any set of readers can be. But from the
examples I have cited, I feel comfortable in saying that some old farmers did
indeed use their almanacs – and not just in the outhouse.
[i] https://books.google.com/books?id=q7B25EPMla4C&pg=PA94&lpg=PA94&dq=samuel+wood+printer&source=bl&ots=F4X7Bc9u_c&sig=ACfU3U2CGlSsFYa7--PN4nCC-lN_0jvlgA&hl=en&ppis=_c&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwjJyeyr8MTmAhUGca0KHZFeBeUQ6AEwDXoECAoQAQ#v=onepage&q=samuel%20wood%20printer&f=false;
https://books.google.com/books?id=8xiHtwAACAAJ&dq=samuel+wood+almanac&hl=en&ppis=_c&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwjTjNPZ8sTmAhVCVK0KHZDoCCMQ6AEwA3oECAEQAQ
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