Chapter 3

It would be of no use to attempt to feed cattle, unless you can command a staff of experienced men to take charge of them. However faithful in other respects, these men must have a taste and a strong liking to cattle--they must be their hobby. Even with men of the greatest experience, the difference in the thriving of the different lots upon the same keep is great. They must not be oppressed with having too many in charge, or the owner will suffer by his ill-judged parsimony. From August till November a man may take care of, and pull turnips for, thirty cattle very well, or a few more, if the cattle are loose; but when the day gets short, twenty to twenty-five is as many as one man can feed, to do them justice, if tied up. Good cattlemen are invaluable. They must not only know what to give the cattle; but the great secret, especially when cattle are forced up for show purposes, is to know _what not to give them_. An inexperienced man amongst a lot of feeding cattle must be a great loss to his employer. Like everything else, the proper management of the animals cannot be learned in a day--the cattleman must be always learning. For myself, I can only say that, long as I have traded in cattle, have studied their treatment, have considered their symmetry, I am learning something new every other day. As regards the treatment of cattle when put upon tares or cut clover, there is no danger; but with turnips an ignorant man may injure the cattle in one week so much that they may not recover it during the season. The cattle must be gradually brought on, giving them a few turnips at first, and increasing the quantity daily, till in from ten to fourteen days they may get a full supply. When improperly treated the cattle scour and hove, the stomach getting deranged. It is a long time before they recover, and some never do well. We generally cure hove by repeated doses of salts, sulphur, and ginger. Occasionally a beast will hove under the best treatment; but if you find a lot of them blown up every day, it is time to change their keeper. In cattle which are being forced for exhibition, hove is generally the first warning that the constitution can do no more. I have seen cases so obstinate that they would swell upon hay or straw without turnips. Putting the animal out to grass for a couple of months will generally renovate the constitution and remove the tendency to hove; and after being taken up from grass, with a man in charge who knows what to give and _what not to give_, the animal may go on for a few months longer, and with great attention may at last prove a winner. Occasionally an animal may be found whose digestion no amount of forcing will derange, but such cases are very rare. Cattle feeding in the stall should be kept as clean as the hunter or valuable race-horse, and their beds should be carefully shaken up.

I change the feeding cattle from tares and clover on to Aberdeen yellow turnips, and afterwards to swedes, if possible by the middle of October. I do not like soft turnips for feeding cattle. The cattle that I intend for the great Christmas market have at first from 2 lb. to 4 lb. of cake a-day by the 1st of November. In a week or two I increase the cake to at least 4 lb. a-day, and give a feed of bruised oats or barley, which I continue up to the 12th or 14th of December, when they leave for the Christmas market. The cake is apportioned to the condition of the different animals, and some of the leanest cattle get the double of others which are riper. The cattle being tied to the stall places this quite in your power, while in the strawyard it could not be done. When ten or twenty beasts in the strawyard stand together, the strongest take the greatest share, and these are very often the animals that least require it. I consider the stall a great advantage over the strawyard in this respect, as you can give each beast what you wish him to have. My men are told the quantity of cake and corn which I wish every beast to receive. You must all have observed the inequality in the improvement of cattle in the strawyard when ten, fifteen, or twenty beasts are fed together. I have seen the best beast in a lot when put up, the worst when taken out. The first three weeks after the cattle are put upon cake along with their turnips, they will put on as much meat as they will do with an equal quantity of cake for the next five. It is absolutely necessary to increase the quantity of cake and corn weekly to insure a steady improvement; and if cattle are forced upon cake and corn over two or three months, it will, in my opinion, pay no one. To give unlimited quantities for years, and to say it will pay, is preposterous. To give fat cattle the finishing dip, cake and corn, given in moderation and with skill for six weeks before the cattle are sent to the fat market, will pay the feeder; but to continue this for more than two months will never pay in Aberdeenshire. This is no doubt a bold assertion, but I believe it to be correct. The cake and corn given to cattle day by day loses its effect, till at last you bring the beast almost to a standstill, and week after week you can perceive little improvement. Cake, and still more corn, appear to injure their constitution; grass, turnips, and straw or hay are their only healthy food. For commercial cattle, and for commercial purposes, two months is the utmost limit that cake and corn will pay the Aberdeenshire feeder. There can be no substitute for grass, straw, and turnips, except for a very limited period; though in times of scarcity, and to give the last dip to fat cattle, the other feeding materials are valuable auxiliaries.

I have kept on a favourite show bullock for a year, thinking I would improve him, and given him everything he would take; and when that day twelvemonth came round, he was worse than a twelvemonth before. You can only torture nature so far; and if you force a yearling bullock, he will never come to the size that he will attain if kept on common fare. If you wish to bring a bullock to size for exhibition, give him as much grass and turnips as he can eat. Begin to force only when he is two and a half to three years old, and by the time he is four years he will not only be a neater but a larger animal than if he had been forced earlier: forcing in youth deteriorates the symmetry of the animal as well as diminishes his size. I am speaking only of Aberdeen and Angus cattle, but I believe the breeders of Highlanders are also well aware of this fact. I am not speaking of pounds, shillings, and pence, or of the profit to the farmer; for who would think of keeping beasts bred to himself older than rising three years old? Calves dropped early should go to the fat market at the age of two years.

A word as to show bullocks. I believe they are the most unprofitable speculation an agriculturist can interfere with. To keep a show bullock as he ought to be kept will cost from 12s. to 15s. a-week, which amounts to about £40 a-year.

The method I adopt as to using cake and corn is the following:--On the different farms where I feed the cattle, I put a fourth part of their number only upon cake and corn at one time, and six weeks (which is about my limit of time for cake and corn, &c., paying the feeder) before they are to be sent to the fat market. When the six weeks are expired they are sent away; another fourth part of the original number take their place, and get their six weeks' cake. When they leave, the other cattle in succession get the same treatment. When turnips are plentiful the system works very well. The cattle draw beautifully, week by week, from the different farms, and come out very ripe. I may mention that almost all the cattle I graze are generally kept during the previous winter upon as many turnips as they can eat, and are in high condition when put to grass. I believe, however, that in the south of Scotland, where there is more corn and less grass land, this method would not be suitable. Large bills for cake are not easily paid, and when paid swallow up our profits. When cattle are fed almost exclusively upon the produce of the farm, the feeders know what they are about; but this method of feeding requires time and patience, and there is a long outlay of capital. Still, if the system is adopted and judiciously managed, upon medium or high-lying and low-rented land, the cattle treated as above ought to pay the rent and leave a fair profit to the feeder. There is no doubt that in the north, and especially in Aberdeenshire, there is a rage for fine cattle; and on my part it has almost amounted to a "craze." I would have been a richer man to-day if I had not been so fastidious in my selections; but I cannot endure to look at, and never will tolerate, a bad beast on my land. The gentlemen I buy from know my weakness, and they say, if they are anxious to sell, We must let M'Combie have a "pull." Many are the lots of beasts I have bought and culled, and I had to pay for it. Sellers have served me right. Still there is a fatality follows me that I fear it is hopeless now to endeavour to get over. A good bullock will always be a good one, and will easily be made ripe--requiring little cake or corn--and come right out at last.

The following is the system I have adopted in the selection of the cattle I have wintered. I buy the best lots I can find during the summer, fit for wintering and keeping on to the following Christmas. I then cull the worst of the different lots, feeding the culls and wintering the tops. By this method I secure a lot of wintering cattle for the great Christmas market of the ensuing year, without one bad or indifferent beast among them. The price I have obtained for several years, with the exception of the culls of my winterers, has been £35 a-head.

In Aberdeenshire I consider that a large bullock ought to pay 25s. to 30s. a-month for keep, if he is properly treated. We often get less, and sometimes a little more, owing in some measure to the way in which the cattle are bought, the price of beef at the time, the season of the year the cattle are bought, and the time they are sold. Before we were threatened with the cattle plague I always made a point of buying my beasts early in the season, beginning in January and buying monthly up to May. I had thus a chance of the best lots, whereas, if I deferred making my selections, these went into other hands.

II. REMINISCENCES.

Fifty years ago, and for many a long year thereafter, there were no shorthorns in the north. There were few turnips grown, and few cattle fed. The great firm of the Williamsons, who rented St John's Wells, Bethelnie, and Easter Crichie; James Allardyce of Boyndsmill; the Harveys of Beidlestone and Danestone, and a few others, were almost the only parties who attempted the feeding of cattle. Mr Harvey of Ardo, who was then tenant of Danestone, died only the other day, aged ninety. Messrs Williamson and Reid were the great Aberdeen butchers at that period, and the feeders had either to sell to them or send their cattle on to Barnet Fair on their own account, or in the hands of the jobber. The journey occupied a month, and hay was their food. The cattle stood the road best upon hay, and it was surprising how fresh and sound the drovers took them up. Disease was unknown; the lung disease, the foot-and-mouth disease, are comparatively recent importations.

I was in the lean-cattle trade when foot-and-mouth disease first broke out, and got a sad fright when I came up to Falkirk and found my drove affected. When it got into a drove on their transit, the loss was heavy. At that time the cattle were not made more than half fat, else they could never have performed their journeys.

I was well acquainted with the Messrs Williamson, and, when a boy, was the guest of the late George Williamson, St John's Wells; of the late James Williamson, Bethelnie; and of William Williamson, Easter Crichie. George Williamson was a great wit, and many are the anecdotes I have heard him tell. One of these I recollect. He was passing through Perth with a large drove of cattle, the bells were ringing a merry peal for the peace--St John's Wells said it was a sorrowful peal to him, for it cost him £4000. He told that the Messrs Williamson and Reid came to buy a lot of cattle at Bethelnie, and they were not like to agree, when Bethelnie's grieve volunteered the statement--much to the chagrin of James Williamson, but to the delight of Messrs Williamson and Reid--that there were turnips to put over to-morrow and no longer. Messrs Williamson and Reid did not advance their offer under these circumstances.

James Williamson was a smarter man in some respects than George; he had great taste as a farmer, but lacked the wit of his brother; while William of Easter Crichie, St John's Wells' eldest son, and a member of the great firm, took matters more coolly than either, but was a capital judge, and a good buyer of drove and store cattle. They have all gone to their rest, but have left a name behind them which will not soon be forgotten in Aberdeenshire. As a firm they were the largest cattle-dealers in Scotland of their day. William Williamson was most hospitable, and many were the happy evenings I have spent at Easter Crichie. It was a great treat to hear him when he became eloquent upon the Haycocks, the great Leicestershire graziers, and the bullock he bought from Mr Harvey and sold to Mr Haycock that gained the prize against all comers at Smithfield. The Williamsons were the largest buyers in spring, not only in Aberdeenshire and the north, but in Forfar and Fife, shires. At one time they had little opposition in the spring trade, and old St John's Wells' advice to the members of the firm, when they went to Forfar and Fife, was to "bid little and lie far back." The Williamsons generally brought down from Fifeshire on their spring visits a lot of the best Fife cows, and no doubt their blood are in many of the Aberdeen cattle to this day. The Williamsons also bought largely at the Falkirk Trysts. Although they had the spring trade mostly to themselves, it must not be supposed that the summer trade was equally in their hands. For a time, however, it was doubtful if they would not concentrate the whole business in their own firm; as when they had heavy stocks on hand, and prices showed a downward tendency, they adopted the daring expedient of buying up almost all the cattle for sale, that they might become the exclusive owners. This might have succeeded so far, but it was a dangerous expedient, and could not continue; and other energetic men, both in the north and south, began to oppose them. My own father became their greatest opponent, and, though single-handed, for years conducted as large a business in summer as themselves.

Mr James Anderson, Pitcarry, who is still alive and tenant of Pitcarry, was also an extensive dealer, and sent large droves to England--a man who through life has enjoyed the respect of all classes, of great coolness, and proverbial for his rectitude. The writer was sleeping with him at Huntly the night of an Old Keith market; and in the morning Mr Anderson was in the middle of a deep discussion, when his topsman knocked at the door. On being asked what he wanted, he said he had lost four cattle. "Go and find them," was Mr Anderson's answer, and he immediately resumed the discussion. My father often told how Mr Anderson and he were at a dinner at Haddington, given by the East Lothian Farmers' Club, on the day of the cattle market, when Mr Rennie of Phantassie was chairman, and where, after dinner, a discussion arose about an Act of Parliament. Mr Anderson told them they were all wrong, and that the contents of the Act were so and so. The books were brought from the Council Chambers, when Mr Anderson was found right, and all the East Lothian gentlemen wrong. He is a very well-informed man, and has all the Acts of Parliament at his finger-ends. I was present at a Hallow Fair when a cross toll-bar was erected, and many paid the toll demanded. At last Mr Anderson came up with his drove, and having the Act of Parliament in his pocket at the time, he broke down the toll-bar and sent the keeper home to his honest calling.

But James Milner, Tillyriach, was perhaps the most remarkable among all the cattle-dealers of the time. He was a very large tall man, with tremendously big feet--a great man for dress--wore top-boots, white neckcloth, long blue coat, with all the et-ceteras, and used hair-powder. He was, withal, very clever, and had an immensity of mother-wit. He rode the best horse in the country, kept greyhounds, and galloped a horse he called the "Rattler." The rides he took with this animal are the talk of the country to this day. The Rattler was very fast, and would jump over anything. There was no end to the hares Milner killed. He was tenant not only of Tillyriach, which was at that time the property of Sir William Forbes of Craigievar, but he rented Carnaveron and other farms in the Vale of Alford. His position was good: he dined with the gentlemen of the neighbourhood. On one occasion he had Sir William Forbes to dine with him at Tillyriach, and collected all the horses, cattle, and servants from his other farms, and had them all coming as if from the yoke when Sir William arrived. Milner wanted allowances for several improvements from his landlord, and, among the rest, allowance to build, and payment for, a large dwelling-house; but he outwitted himself for once, as Sir William was afraid of the man, and refused to give any allowance whatsoever, remarking that his wealth in cattle and horses was so enormous that he might build himself in so that he would never get him out. However, Milner built an additional large dining-room at his own expense, and it being finished all but the chimney-top, he got up one summer morning very early, ordered his men and horses along with a mason to follow him, and went to William Laing, one of his sub-tenants, of whom he had a host, quietly removed a new dressed granite chimney-top which Laing had lately erected, without being detected by the inmates, and had it placed upon his room ere ever it was missed. There it remained for fifty years, until the houses at Tillyriach were taken down. Milner was very fond of a lark; he was the best possible neighbour; but if he took offence or considered himself slighted or overlooked, he would have his revenge. There was a rather troublesome neighbour who had offended Mr Milner, and of whom he could not get the better, except in the following way:--He put a large drove of cattle among his corn during the night, and was there in the morning with his appraiser to pay the damage. The damage is never in such cases estimated at the loss sustained by the owner, and a man may easily be ruined in that way. Mr Milner was the Captain Barclay of the Vale of Alford. He must have the best of everything--the best horses, the best cattle; and at the first cattle-show in the country, at Kincardine O'Neil, he gained the first prize for the best bull. He had the finest horses in the country, and it was worth something to get a "lift" of Milner's horses; and the most grievous fault his servants could commit, was allowing any other horses in the country to take as heavy loads as his.

Tillyfour and Tillyriach adjoin, and are now one farm.[2] My father was in Tillyfour, and Milner in Tillyriach. The crop was all cut by the sickle, and wonderful were the prodigies performed by some of the shearers. When the harvest came near a conclusion, there was generally a severe "kemp" between neighbours who would have "cliach" first. One season Milner had fallen much behind his Tillyfour neighbours, and it became clear that Tillyfour was to gain the victory. Milner ordered Rattler to be saddled, and he was not long in galloping with such a horse, and on such an emergency, over the length and breadth of the Vale of Alford. He collected the whole country, and cut the last standing sheaf on Tillyriach in one night. The first thing heard at Tillyfour next morning was one volley of firearms after another, which was continued through the day, with a relay of shooters, and in the very teeth of my father's people. It cost Milner a great deal of Athole-brose[3] and powder, but he did not mind trifles to gain his point. It was the custom at that time that the party who finished harvest first communicated the intelligence to his neighbours by the firing of guns.

[2] For description of a day at Tillyfour, see Dixon's 'Field and Fern,' Part North, p. 158-181.

[3] Whisky and oatmeal mixed.

Another anecdote or two of Milner, and I have done with him. As he was dressing at the glass one morning, at an inn in the south, and in the act of powdering his hair, and tying his white neckerchief, which he always wore on high days and holidays, James Williamson of Bethelnie said to him, "Ah! what a pretty man you are, James!" "Yes," said Milner, with an oath, "if it were not for these ugly skulks of feet of mine." He always carried large saddlebags on his horse on his journeys, well replenished with all necessary auxiliaries for a change of dress, as when he went north he had often to dine with the Highland proprietors, and Milner was not the man to go otherwise than in full dress. He took a good deal of liberty with his fellow-cattle-dealers, who were not so exact as to their wardrobes, and carried generally in their pocket only a spare shirt and a pair of stockings. Milner's traps were a great additional burden on his horse. While going north he thought proper, one morning, to fasten them on my father's horse. My father took no notice of this at the time; but falling a little behind before coming to the top of a high hill, he contrived to unloose the mouths of the bags. The cattle-dealers always dismounted at the top of a hill, and walked down, either leading or driving their horses before them to the foot. My father dismounted, put the whip to his horse, a very spirited animal, and down the hill he galloped. First one article of clothing, then another, went helter-skelter along the road for a mile, one here and one there--ruffled shirts, white neckcloths, long coats, cashmere vests, boot-tops, pomatum boxes, cotton stockings, &c. &c.--not two of them together. It took Milner a long time to collect the contents of his bags; he was very sulky during the day, and his own horse carried the saddlebags in future. On a journey in the north, his comrades proposed that he should dress himself (and he did so to some purpose), and call on a gentleman, a large owner of fine stock, but whose land-steward and the cattle were some forty miles distant from the manor-house. Mr Milner did so; was well received and hospitably entertained; and at parting the gentleman gave him a letter to his land-steward, with instructions as to the sale of his stock. Milner was very quick, and he had his doubts as to these instructions; and as from forty to fifty miles was a long journey out and returning, he became anxious to know the contents. He returned to his friends, and communicated his suspicions to them. One more daring than the others proposed that the letter should be opened; a tea-kettle was got, the water brought to the boil, the wafer put to the steam, and the letter opened. The contents read thus:--"Be sure and sell the _old cows_, but do not sell the bullocks upon any account." I need not say what a rage Milner was in; calling the gentleman out was the least punishment he might expect.