By J. Ethan Tapper
Clearing for sheep pasture caused the amount of open land in Vermont to reach about 80 percent by mid-1800s
If you spend time in the woods, chances are that you will stumble upon an old cellar hole, stone wall or agricultural implement rusting among the trees. These cultural artifacts are striking and speak to the strange and fascinating history of European settlement in Vermont, which is intertwined with the history of our forests.
In most areas of Vermont, I would classify human disturbance as the largest influence over the condition of our forests as they currently exist. The history of how this came to be is a story of settlement, war and mania.
The Napoleonic wars (1793-1813) mark the beginning of our tale. When Napoleon invaded Spain in 1808, the ensuing chaos allowed some of Spain’s prized merino sheep to be exported. William Jarvis, the United States Consul to Portugal, was able to acquire some of these sheep and introduced a large flock of them onto his Weathersfield (Vermont) farm in 1811.
Wool from merino sheep was much higher in quality and produced more abundantly than wool from other breeds. In addition, export markets from the U.S. began to boom, and tariffs prevented the importation of wool into the county. This confluence of events initiated “merino mania” throughout New England in the decade following Jarvis’s introduction, when merino wool sold for up to $2 per pound ($0.37 per pound was the going rate for wool from other breeds). While some areas of Vermont had been cleared already for agriculture and settlement, clearing for sheep pasture during this time caused the amount of open land in Vermont to reach about 80 percent of the state by the middle of the 1800s. By 1837, there were more than one million sheep in Vermont and around four million in New England.
The wool industry declined in the 1840s, when wool prices dropped due to a glut of supply, wool production picked up in the west and overseas, and importation tariffs were lifted. Many farms switched to the production of dairy and other commodities and abandoned some of their pastureland. These pastures began to revert to forest, gradually increasing the amount of forested land in Vermont over the following century. The final blow to numerous farmers in Vermont came with the Great Depression, when many who had held on through the boom and bust of the 1800s finally gave up. From the 1930s through the 1960s, huge areas of farmland were abandoned. Many of Vermont’s forests originated from pastures “let go” during this time.
Fields are not ideal seedbeds for most of our native tree species, and so these pastures tended to be colonized by white pine, a species that does well in these conditions. The resulting “field pine” stands are often poor in quality, with a pair of invasive pathogens, white pine weevil and blister rust, contributing to their woes. Even once the pine has died or been removed, the effect of the clearing lingers; in many cases it takes at least two generations of trees before these areas begin to regain the appearance of native forest, though thoughtful, active forest management can expedite this process somewhat.
These field-origin forests face other challenges as well. They are generally relatively poor wildlife habitat, lacking structural diversity (trees of different ages and heights) and species diversity (many different tree species). They also often lack downed trees and woody material on the forest floor, which is important for wildlife habitat, erosion prevention, carbon storage and soil building. Field-origin forests are also prime habitat for invasive exotic plant species. These short-comings can be addressed with high-quality forest management, but they still amount to significant problems across the landscape, due to the ubiquitous nature of these field-origin stands.
The next time you take a walk in the woods, see if you can imagine what it was like in the 1830s, when millions of merino sheep grazed these rocky hills. The complicated relationship between humans and forests continues to evolve, but we are blessed with the gift of hindsight that allows us to examine our past management practices critically. Hopefully we can use this knowledge not only to enrich our time in the woods but also to make better management decisions in the future.
Ethan Tapper is the Chittenden County forester. He can be reached at his office at 111 West Street in Essex Junction, at (802) 585-9099 or via email.