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Cattle-husbandry in England and Germany, from The Rural and Domestic Life of Germany by William Howitt, 1842.

We have described the wagons of the peasantry. They are much of the same kind as prevail in Italy and France. Primitive and simple as they are, they are made to carry a good load of corn home. As the wagon is of this shape V, the load is also topped up in the same way, so as to form in a front or hind view a diamond figure. The load is secured by a pole along the ridge, which is held down tightly by ropes at back and front, and often by two pieces of upright wood at the back. Thus secured, their two milch cows, yoked by the head, draw home their harvest.

It must be remarked that these wagons are very light and elastic; and, especially as they are cheaply constructed, might be introduced in England to the great advantage of small proprietors, as well as for general use, where the country is hilly and the roads rocky. They will bend in an uneven way like a snake, and their lightness makes them far more fit for many purposes than our heavy and unyielding, and much more expensive, carts. For such districts as Scotland, Wales, Cumberland, Westmoreland, and the hilly tracts of Derbyshire and Yorkshire, they would be admirably adapted.

It is quite repulsive to our English feelings to see the manner in which the cows are worked in this country. An English lady observed to a German one, that of all things she would not like to be a German woman of the common class, or a German cow, for they were both unmercifully worked. The German lady thought it a good answer to say, that she certainly would in this, as in any other country, prefer being a lady to an ordinary woman, and that she should not choose to be a cow at all. The English lady here again rejoined, “but of all cows, not a German cow.”

Peasant’s Wagon. Image from text.

In England, that paradise of countries, the cow is a privileged and most luxurious animal. She lies down in green pastures, and by the still waters, at perfect leisure. In summer, she is half buried in plenty. In beautiful herds,—fair as those herds of Apollo, which fed in the meadows of Trinacria or of Asphodel,—they graze the most famous pastures in the world, and present to the eye of the lover of the country, one of the most lovely spectacles which the country can shew.

They slowly rove from one portion of their extensive bounds to another, or lie down amid a blaze of golden and purple flowers and greenest grass, pictures of plenty, images and indicators of the farming wealth of England, which nothing can surpass. They stand in company, beneath the shade of drooping willows and polished alders, in the glittering passage of the brook at noontide, in groups rich enough to raise a Cuyp or Ruysdael from the dust. Devon, or Hereford, Durham, Northumberland, Chester, or Gloucester, what country on the face of the earth can shew meadows like yours, with cattle like yours! What has this planet to exhibit of fat and milky like yours; enough to make the jolly heart of the English farmer proud, and big, and buttery, as it is? And what would you say, did you see the life of a cow in Germany?

Here, for the most brilliant portion of the year, she is shut up in close prison. There are no green meadows, no running streams; no roving in sleek, round-bodied, dappled, and lowing herds for her. She is cooped up in a little dark stall. Old women and young women, and children with creels on their backs, go out with hooks, and cut rough grass and rampant weeds from under bushes in the woods, along the roadsides, and in the corners of fields, for her. Docks, chervil, rough sedge from the river's brink, anything that is green and eatable, is piled in baskets on old women's heads, and brought home to her.

Shut up there, the very smell of aught green is enough to make her devour it. In summer, the lower leaves of the dick-ruben are stripped off" for her; lucerne is grown for her, and odds and ends of cabbage, carrots, and turnip leaves fall to her share. She cannot rove in felds, for there are none. She cannot climb the hill-sides, for there climb the vines; and the plains are full of corn, green crops, and tobacco, without a hedge to keep her from picking and stealing.

When she comes out, it is to labour. With a fellow slave she is seized by the horns; a yoke is clapped on the back of her head, one end of which rests on hers, and the other on the head of her fellow: this is strapped fast, and secured to the pole of the wagon or the plough, and thus with her meek forehead fast in the stocks of labour, she is driven a-field, or to market, to perform all the work of her peasant-master. It is a pitiable sight to see a couple of these mild and gentle animals coming along with their heads hung down, and immovable in any direction, "for they must move together, if they move at all;" while behind comes the driver, whipping and bawling, "wisht! wisht!" or "yisht! yisht! oot! oot! oot! woa! woa! ah! uhoo!" and such like sounds.

Agricultural Implements. Image from text.

While she lives, this is the lot of the German cow! She has not the satisfaction of her milk flowing in warm and foamy streams into union with that of a score of her fellows, and thence arising piles of rich golden butter, and the splendid masses of Stilton or double Gloucester—such glorious productions as Stilton, Dunlop, or double Gloucester, never enter the region of a German peasant's imagination: on the contrary, her isolated stream goes to furnish only a butter, meagre, pallid, and poor, or cheeses formed in the palm of the hand, and dried on the outside of the window-sill, more like hens' eggs than anything beside. When she dies, too, miserable cow! she has not even the satisfaction of dying fat!

Yet the poor things do not, after all, look so much amiss. In his way, and according to his notions, the German farmer is, no doubt, kind to his cattle; and if he would but give them separate yokes, so that they could move their heads, as in a few instances is to be seen, they would not so much move our compassion.

Howitt, William. The Rural and Domestic Life of Germany. Longman, Brown, Green, and Longmans, 1842.

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