Bran Sacks

by Kit Hewes of Canaan, NH

There was something alive in the middle of the kitchen floor. The creature, safely encased in a bran sack, moved in erratic jerks and tumbles and emitted soft grunting noises. Daddy had come home from work at the sawmill a little later than usual. We three older children spotted the brown wiggling sack in his arms immediately. The two babies slept, unknowing. Our curiosity was so acute we ignored his lunch pail and any possible left-overs. Depression kids were always hungry and we always fought over anything he hadn’t eaten. Instead we stared in wary fascination at the moving sack, squealing and taking instant flight if it moved in our direction. Eventually, after he had his pipe lit and going well, Dad cut the string closing the bag and loosed two piglets, pink and confused, into the kitchen of our old Vermont farmhouse.

This is my first remembered contact with the countryman’s indispensable tool, the bran sack.

Despite a search through my collection of dictionaries I could not find the word “bran sack.” Yet that is what my father and other farmers of his generation and my husband’s generation called the burlap sacking that grain was sold in at the local grain stores. Today a true grain store with mountains of fragrant smelling bags piled up to the ceiling is as rare as the burlap sacks. Grain is now sold in bulk or unromantic plastic bags.

I did learn that burlap is made from either the jute or the hemp plant. Jute is the glossy fiber taken from an annual tropical herb related to the linden tree. Hemp is from the tall Asiatic herb related to the mulberry family. These have been naturalized into Brazil, Mexico, Yucatan and Africa. The narcotics hashish and marijuana are made from the dried female flowers. The fibers are used in making paper and cloth, the seed is used in bird food and the oil from the seeds is used in paints, varnish and soaps. Truly a versatile plant.

My father and my husband had their own multiple uses for the bran sack. After the grain was carefully emptied into the metal barrel or metal-lined bin, the sack was hung over a line or a bar in the barn. Thus a child knew where to go when told, “Go get me a bran sack.”

Partially stuffed with hay, a bran sack would replace a broken window pane or cut off a draft under an ill-fitting door. They were cushions for the dump cart or horse rake or mowing machine seat. Tossed into a corner of the stable or shed or behind the stove it was a bed for the dog. A new-born calf or lamb was dried with a sack if the mother was slow to do this. A sick calf or cow would be blanketed with a sack or two, this tied securely around the neck or belly with barn string. {Barn string or baling twine has a story of its own.} Small animals, chickens, pigs, pups, cats, lambs, goats, calves, were transported in sacks. With the larger babies the sacks were tied securely around their necks. This confinement protected the area, often the back seat of the family car, from their excrement. These sacks provided warmth and the mesh was large enough so the smaller animals could breathe through it. Besides the piglets, my dad once brought home identical twin bull calves, riding comfortably in the back seat of his car. Some years later my husband brought home our first registered animal, a Milking Shorthorn bull calf from the herd at the University of New Hampshire. It was January and we had to wait while a car in front of us was unstuck from a snow bank, but U.N.H. Admiral or “Curley,” as we called him, stayed warm and wasn’t bothered.

Food, such as apples, potatoes, nuts, carrots, beets, cabbage, onions or turnips was collected from orchards and woods, fields and gardens in bran sacks. Unshelled beans were stored in the loft or attic to dry in bran sacks. My father brought sawdust for stock bedding or house banking home from the mill in sacks piled into, atop or anywhere he could tie them onto the old Buick touring car, a car older than any of his children. My husband sewed sacks together into a blanket to cover the load of sawdust in his pick-up truck.

A sack was a towel for a dirty udder or to wipe the hands after working on greasy machinery. A sack was a shroud when a beloved pet was buried. We’ve all read of unwanted puppies or kittens put in a sack weighted with stones and tossed into a river or pond.

My Dad and my husband used bran sacks to pad a harness if it was too loose and galling a horse. When the team was worked away from home their grain and hay was carried in bran sacks. As children my brothers, sister and I made Indian tepees and costumes from sacks, made rugs, curtains and bed rolls for our cabin in the woods. Once we filled a sack most full of sawdust and suspended it from a rafter in the horse barn to use for a punching bag. Our fists were soon sore but lowered, the sack became a tackling dummy and a swing.

My kids were rich in ponies. They often used sacks for saddles when they played Cowboys and Indians. In college my daughter used one as a tapestry to pin photos and papers on. Of course they were used in sack races at church and picnics and other gatherings. They were great for carrying balls, bats and gloves to the field. Filled with a little sand they were used for bases. We once built a raft and started a sail for it with two sacks sown together. The raft was ill-fated. The sail never used. My mother put old rags not suitable for quilting into a sack and hung it on a nail in the entry where anyone knew where to find a rag. My husband came home from auctions with the small treasures he had bought in a bran sack.

In other parts of the country they were called tow sacks or gunny sacks. There were probably lots of other uses for them. I wonder if some of the troubles and hardships the farmer faces today might be eased with the handy, inexpensive bran sack.