Vermont: A Study of IndependenceRobinson, Rowland Evans
History
Vermont: A Study of Independence
Robinson, Rowland Evans
Vermont -- History
When the acreage of meadow land and grain field had broadened beyond
ready harvesting by the resident yeomen, swarms of Canadian laborers
came flocking over the border in gangs of two or three, baggy-breeched
and moccasined habitants, embarked in rude carts drawn by shaggy
Canadian ponies. After a month or two of haymaking and harvesting, they
jogged homeward with their earnings, whereunto were often added some
small pilferings, for their fingers were as light as their hearts. This
annual wave of inundation from the north ceased to flow with the general
introduction of the mowing-machine; and the place in the meadow once
held by the rank of habitants picturesque in garb, swinging their
scythes in unison to some old song sung centuries ago in France, has
been usurped by the utilitarian device that, with incessant chirr as of
ten thousand sharded wings, mingling with the music of the bobolinks,
sweeps down the broad acres of daisies, herdsgrass, and clover.
Many Canadians returned with their families to live in the land which
they had spied out in their summer incursions, and so in one way and
another the influx continued till they have become the most numerous of
Vermont's foreign population.
For years the State was infested with an inferior class of these people,
who plied the vocation of professional beggars. They made regular trips
through the country in bands consisting of one or more families, with
horses, carts, and rickety wagons, and a retinue of curs, soliciting
alms of pork, potatoes, and breadstuffs at every farmhouse they came to,
and pilfering when opportunity offered. In the large towns there were
depots where the proceeds of their beggary and theft were disposed of.
They were an abominable crew of vagabonds, robust, lazy men and boys,
slatternly women with litters of filthy brats, and all as detestable as
they were uninteresting. They worked their beats successfully, till
their pitiful tales of sickness, burnings-out, and journeyings to
friends in distant towns were worn threadbare, and then they gradually
disappeared, no one knows whither.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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