One important staple crop has been largely forgotten from both agricultural and rural history: the humble potato. First imported from South America to Europe in the latter half of the sixteenth century, for the first couple of centuries it was considered exotic eating. It quietly became increasingly important during the eighteenth century, and is now widely credited as the food that enabled the population boom in much of Europe in the nineteenth century.

For several years from 1845, a fungus-like organism late blight caused widespread crop failure in the poorer parts of Ireland, Scotland and elsewhere, causing the Great Irish Famine, with at least a million dying from starvation.

The potato is unusual for storing large amounts of starch in its tuber. Although starch is only about one fifth of the potato by weight, the remainder being water, it came be the staple food for much of the working population, in both country and city. Overton has calculated using estimated crop yields from the early nineteenth century that an acre of potatoes would have provided about 2.5 times as many calories as an acre of wheat.

Like wheat, growing potatoes is a process of amplification. Tubers from the previous crop are sown in the ground, and multiply to yield many times the weight originally sown. Production is thus not dependent on conventional seed, but on seed potatoes with a more limited life. If a whole crop is destroyed by blight, not only is there nothing to eat that year, but the seed potatoes for the following year are also lost. Blight remains in the soil, and once affected that land has to be used for crops other than potatoes.

However, potatoes had other advantages in a war-torn and taxed Europe. While troops rampaging in foreign countryside would often raid or burn fields of grain, damaging or stealing potatoes proved more resistant to invaders. They were also likely to escape taxes or charges levied on other arable crops.

During the eighteenth century, labourers fortunate enough to have a little land they could farm for themselves started to grow potatoes, to supplement their limited diet. Small potato patches sprung up in the countryside, and around towns. Production at scale remained unusual until the following century, when some English counties including Lancashire and Middlesex devoted significant areas to supply the growing cities. That in turn depended on transport such as canals and then railways to deliver sacks of potatoes to urban consumers.

When Vincent van Gogh was living in Borinage in Belgium, he was among labourers whose staple food was potatoes, in one of the areas that had grown them for longer than most. His Still Life with Potatoes, painted in September 1885, is his tribute to the humble vegetable.

Potato production was painted extensively by social realists including Jean-François Millet, in the middle of the nineteenth century.

Millet shows this back-breaking work in his Potato Planters from about 1861.

The Potato Harvest from 1855 is another more substantial work developed from Millet’s drawings. In the foreground, a man and woman are working together to fill sacks with the harvested potatoes, to be loaded onto the wagon behind them. The other four work as a team to lift the potatoes using forks and transfer them into wicker baskets, a gruelling task. Although the fields in the left distance are lit by sunshine, the dark scud-clouds of a heavy shower fill the sky at the right. Being poor, none of the workers has any wet-weather gear. The soil is also poor, full of stones, and yields would have been low despite the full sacks shown at the right.

Millet’s most famous single work, The Angelus, was completed around 1857-59. This had been commissioned by the American collector Thomas Gold Appleton, as Prayer for the Potato Crop, but underwent modification before Millet renamed it. At some stage, it’s thought to have included a child’s coffin, but that was overpainted.

It shows a couple, praying the Angelus devotion normally said at six o’clock in the evening, over the potatoes they have been harvesting. It’s dusk, and as the last light of the day fades in the sky, the bell in the distant church is ringing to mark the end of work, and the start of the evening. Next to the man is the fork he has been using to lift potatoes from the poor, stony soil; his wife has been collecting them in a wicker basket, now resting at her feet. Behind them is a basic wheelbarrow with a couple of sacks of potatoes on it, ready to be taken home.

Twenty years later, Jules Bastien-Lepage painted what’s now sometimes known as October or Potato Gatherers (1878), but was originally shown as October: Potato Gatherers.

Vincent van Gogh painted Woman Lifting Potatoes (1885) and similar scenes during his time living with his parents in Nuenen, in North Brabant, the Netherlands.

János Pentelei Molnár’s The Potato Harvest from 1901 takes this theme into the early years of the twentieth century, in Hungary.

Laurits Andersen Ring’s A Man Digging Potatoes from 1901 is pure social realism, as this smallholder uses his spade to lift the potatoes that are his staple diet. I believe that the plants shown here have suffered from potato blight, which also swept Europe periodically causing more famine and death.

Although the girls shown in Léon Frédéric’s Three Sisters from 1896 are clean and well dressed, they’re sat together peeling their staple diet of potatoes in a plain and barren farmhouse. A glimpse of the shoes of the girl at the left confirms that they’re neither destitute nor affluent.

Vincent van Gogh’s The Potato Eaters (1885) is another revealing insight into the lives of poor labourers in Nuenen, who are about to feast on a large dish of potatoes under the light of an oil lamp.

Émile Friant’s The Frugal Meal (1894) continues the social theme, as a poor family with four daughters sits down to a meal consisting of a bowl piled high with potatoes, and nothing else. More worryingly, the pot on the floor at the left is empty.

Further reading

Christopher Shepherd’s brilliant essay on the history of the potato in The Oxford Handbook of Agricultural History (2024), ed. Jeannie Whayne, Oxford UP, ISBN 978 0 19 092416 4.

I hope that you enjoyed Saturday’s Mac Riddles, episode 280. Here are my solutions to them.

1: Third prime should run at twice three or four, and four times two.

2: The third of XV brought AI for some.

3: If E > P and E + P = GPU what does E equal?

The common factor

I look forward to your putting alternative cases.

Here are this weekend’s Mac riddles to entertain you through family time, shopping and recreation.

1: Third prime should run at twice three or four, and four times two.

2: The third of XV brought AI for some.

3: If E > P and E + P = GPU what does E equal?

To help you cross-check your solutions, or confuse you further, there’s a common factor between them.

I’ll post my solutions first thing on Monday morning.

Please don’t post your solutions as comments here: it spoils it for others.

One of the novel features in the original Finder in Classic Mac OS was the use of distinctive icons for different types of document in an extensible scheme.

Every file had its type and creator codes, each consisting of four single-byte characters. The Desktop databases contained indexes to those, to enable the Finder to display the appropriate icon for a text document of type TEXT created by an app with the creator code of ttxt, SimpleText, for instance.

Apps provided a custom icon in their Resource fork for each type of document they supported. Periodically, those Desktop databases became broken, and documents lost their custom icons. The solution was to rebuild those Desktop databases from the data in each app’s Resources, a procedure that every Mac user became only too familiar with.

At some stage, perhaps in System 6 of 1988, or System 7 of 1991, document icons such as images could be displayed as miniatures or thumbnails instead. This was accomplished by apps creating that file’s thumbnail and saving it as an ICN# resource in the file’s Resource fork. Amazingly, this still works in Sequoia, where I pasted a prepared Resource fork into a Zip file to give it an inappropriate thumbnail.

The raw Resource fork is shown below in xattred as a com.apple.ResourceFork extended attribute.

Initially, Mac OS X continued a similar system, including custom thumbnails, until Apple introduced Quick Look in Mac OS X 10.5 Leopard, in 2007. This came with built-in support for a wide range of common document types, extending to QuickTime media including audio and video. One curious omission at first was that animated GIFs weren’t supported as animations until OS X 10.7.

Display of Thumbnails used the QuickLook framework documented here. This enabled third-parties to extend coverage to their own document types using QuickLook generators with the extension .qlgenerator. Initially, they were installed into /Library/QuickLook from each app bundle.

Normally, when QuickLook generated a Thumbnail or Preview, that was stored in its cache database kept in NSTemporaryDirectory in the path C/com.apple.QuickLook.thumbnailcache/. Those could give revealing insights into images and other documents accessed recently, and Wojciech Regula and Patrick Wardle discovered that, in High Sierra and earlier, it was easy for malicious software to examine that cache. Apple addressed that in macOS 10.14 Mojave by making the cache completely inaccessible.

In-memory caching of Thumbnails has also proved controversial in more recent versions of macOS. To deliver smooth scrolling of Thumbnails in the Finder’s Gallery views in particular, the Finder has taken to caching them in memory for up to two days, sometimes using several GB in the process. That can readily be mistaken for a memory leak, until those cached Thumbnails are finally flushed.

I described how QuickLook Thumbnails worked in early 2019, in the days before the SSV.

When you select a document in the Finder, a dialog, or somewhere else where you expect its icon to be shown, the Finder passes details of the document path and its type (UTI) to IconServices, to fetch the appropriate icon. This calls on its main service, iconservicesd in /System/Library/CoreServices, to check its icon cache.

Although the main icon store is locked away in /Library/Caches/com.apple.iconservices.store, there’s additional data in a folder on a path based on /private/var/folders/…/C/com.apple.iconservices, where … is an unreadable alphanumeric name. For icons used in the Dock, their cache is at /private/var/folders/…/C/com.apple.dock.iconcache. If the icon should be replaced by a QuickLook Thumbnail, such as in a Finder column view, QuickLook is asked to provide that thumbnail. That in turn may be cached in its protected cache at /private/var/folders/…/C/com.apple.QuickLook.thumbnailcache.

QuickLook then relies on there being an appropriate qlgenerator to create a thumbnail of that document type; if the qlgenerator is flawed or can’t cope with the document’s contents, that could easily fall over. For example, if you renamed a text file with a .jpeg extension so that macOS considered it was a JPEG image, the bundled qlgenerator might have simply resulted in the display of a busy spinner, rather than resolving to a generic JPEG document icon. IconServices should then deliver the appropriate icon back to the Finder to display it.

In macOS 10.15 Catalina (2019), Apple started replacing this system with a new framework named QuickLook Thumbnailing, documented here. That replaces qlgenerators with QuickLook preview extensions, in particular Thumbnail Extensions, as explained to developers at WWDC in 2019.

macOS 15.0 Sequoia has finally removed support for qlgenerators. That has resulted in the unfortunate loss of custom Thumbnails and Previews for document types of third-party apps that are still reliant on qlgenerators, and haven’t yet got round to providing equivalent app extensions. It’s almost as if the Desktop databases need to be rebuilt again.

In the more northerly latitudes, grass that’s essential for cattle to graze grows little during the winter months. Farmers keeping cattle therefore have to provide alternative feed for their livestock for several months each year. This can include root crops such as brassica varieties including turnips and swedes (also known as rutabaga), but the most widespread is cut and dried grass as hay.

Where climate and day-length are suitable, as in much of England and France, dedicated hay meadows can provide two harvests each year. Left ungrazed through the winter, the first is normally ready to mow in the late Spring, and when there’s sufficient rainfall during the early summer, a second hay harvest can be obtained before the weather deteriorates in the early autumn. The mowing of hay has also been known as math, and mowing a second time is thus the aftermath or lattermath.

The essential requirement for hay is that it’s dried thoroughly, or it will rot over time and become unusable as fodder. In the centuries before mechanisation during the nineteenth century, this process was described as: first mow the grass, “scatter it about, gather it in windrows, cock it overnight, scatter it about, windrow it, cock it, and so on to the stack and stack it”. (Fussell) Those steps are shown well in paintings.

The companion to Pieter Bruegel the Elder’s painting of the grain harvest, The Hay Harvest from 1565 shows all stages in progress. In the left foreground a man is beating the blade on his scythe to sharpen it ready for mowing. Three women are striding towards him with the rakes they use to scatter and gather the mown hay. Behind them, in the valley, others are gathering the hay into small stacks or cocks, where it continues to dry before being loaded onto the hay wagon to be taken back to the farm.

At the right are wicker baskets containing other crops, including what appear to be peas or beans, together with a red fruit.

Ferdinand Hodler’s marvellous Mower from about 1898 is seen sharpening the blade on his heavy scythe using a whetstone, as the sun rises behind and to the left.

The couple in Jules Bastien-Lepage’s Haymakers from 1877 are enjoying a short break from their labours, with the mown hay behind them still scattered to dry, before it can be raked into cocks.

Henri-Jean Martin painted Summer, or Mowers in 1903, as mechanisation was spreading across Europe. Several small clusters of men are mowing the hay in this meadow with their scythes, as three young women are dancing in a ring on the bed of flowers, and another sits nursing an infant.

Henry Moret’s Haymaking in Brittany from 1906 shows a smaller team busy mowing and raking on steeper ground.

In Camille Pissarro’s Divisionist painting of Haymaking, Éragny from the summer of 1887, a team of women are raking the cocks into haystacks.

Women in this hay meadow in Ukraine are raking in the harvest to be transported by a hay wain drawn by a pair of oxen, as painted in Mykola Pymonenko’s undated Haymaking.

In Jean-François Millet’s Haystacks: Autumn from about 1874, the harvest has been gathered, and three huge haystacks dominate the canvas. At the foot of one of them, a shepherd leans on his staff, resting from his labours as his flock grazes on the stubble.

Surplus hay was also a good cash crop for those who could get it transported to towns and cities. Along the east coast of England, barges were filled with hay then taken to London for sale. Much of the land in the county of Middlesex, to the west of London, was devoted to producing hay to feed horses in the city.

Robert Bevan’s painting of Hay Carts, Cumberland Market from 1915 is a view of London’s last hay market, near to the artist’s studio. By this time, the bales shown were made by mechanical baling machines and brought to London by barge.

In the next article in this series, I’ll look at a novel crop that soon became the staple food for many, the potato.

I hope that you enjoyed Saturday’s Mac Riddles, episode 279. Here are my solutions to them.

1: The first year it goes from London to Leeds with the First Eleven on its arm.

2: When intel brought the fifth big cat in a solo or duo.

3: When 6100-8100 came from the aim of seven.

The common factor

I look forward to your putting alternative cases.

Here are this weekend’s Mac riddles to entertain you through family time, shopping and recreation.

1: The first year it goes from London to Leeds with the First Eleven on its arm.

2: When intel brought the fifth big cat in a solo or duo.

3: When 6100-8100 came from the aim of seven.

To help you cross-check your solutions, or confuse you further, there’s a common factor between them.

I’ll post my solutions first thing on Monday morning.

Please don’t post your solutions as comments here: it spoils it for others.

Firmware, software that’s intimately involved with hardware at a low level, has changed radically with each of the different processor architectures used in Macs.

Classic Macs based on Motorola 68K processors come with their own Macintosh ROM. That changed after the first PowerPC models of 1994, and the Power Macintosh 9500 from 1995 supports Apple’s version of Open Firmware. That had originated as OpenBoot in Sun Microsystems’ SPARC-based computers, and is based on the language Forth. Macs with Open Firmware can be booted into an interactive interface that makes it relatively straightforward to support and bring up new hardware. It’s also a security nightmare.

Firmware version numbering was elaborate, with a ROM revision, here $77D.45F6, a Boot ROM version of $0004.25f1, and a Mac OS ROM file version of 8.4, for this Power Mac G4 running Mac OS 9.2.1 in 2002. Apple supplied separate Mac OS ROM file updates as needed.

EFI

In 1998, Intel started work on the original Extensible Firmware Interface (EFI) as its intended replacement for the BIOS in PCs. By the time Apple was beginning its transition from PowerPCs in 2006, EFI was changing into Unified EFI (UEFI), and has since progressed as far as version 2.10 in 2022.

Once an Intel Mac has cleared its initial self-test routines (POST), and key custom chips like the SMC are running, EFI firmware is loaded next. The purpose of the EFI phase and the boot loader boot.efi is to augment the basic facilities provided by BootROM to the point where the macOS kernel can be loaded with its extensions. Key to this is providing access to the Mac’s hardware through the device tree, IODeviceTree, listing and relating all the devices in that Mac. This is built by boot.efi and passed to the kernel when it loads, and forms the basis for IOKit within macOS.

Model-specific boot.efi software also provides ongoing and additional support for boot services, including memory management, basic functions for timers and events, and for hardware access. It supports basic console protocols for input and output, and access to storage systems. Runtime services extend these to give access to variables stored in the NVRAM, and to GUIDs/UUIDs used for key variables in the EFI phase and later. Most importantly, boot.efi looks for startup key commands, originally named snag keys by Apple, such as Command-R to run in Recovery mode, Command-S and -V for Single User and Verbose modes, and Shift for Safe mode.

When Apple introduced Boot Camp in 2006, it made changes to boot.efi to support booting from operating systems other than macOS. This essentially provides a suite of drivers supporting Mac hardware in terms of a Windows hardware platform, engaged when the Mac is to be booted in that operating system rather than macOS.

Firmware security

In March 2015, two security researchers from LegbaCore, Xeno Kovah and Corey Kallenberg, demonstrated proof-of-concept attacks on the BIOS of several computers including Dell, HP, and other PCs that could have been used to implant malicious code. Later that year, Kovah and Trammell Hudson turned their attention to Macs, demonstrating a firmware worm named Thunderstrike 2.

For the first nine years of Intel Macs, Apple had provided EFI firmware updates separately from updates to OS X. That year, Apple changed the way that it supplied firmware, delivering it only as part of system upgrades and updates. Although older separate firmware updates are still available, those were the last.

Then in 2017, Rich Smith and Pepijn Bruienne of Duo Labs discovered that many Macs were running outdated firmware. Their concern was less about potential bugs and other problems, and more about the security risk posed. Apple had already been busy, hiring Xeno Kovah and Corey Kallenberg who started work there in November 2015, and Nikolaj Schlej, another firmware security researcher, who joined them the following August. They developed a new tool eficheck, released in High Sierra on 25 September 2017. Each week until it was dropped from Sonoma, eficheck checked current firmware against a local database of versions known to be ‘good’, and with the user’s permission sent a report to Apple in the event that it found discrepancies.

Back in late 2017, this iMac17,1 was reported as running Boot ROM version IM171.0105.B26.

T2 firmware

In 2016, the year before Smith and Bruienne’s report, Apple introduced first the T1 chip, then hot on its heels the T2 the following year. With two separate CPUs in each T2 Mac, there are two separate sets of firmware, one EFI and the other known as iBridge or BridgeOS. Following the established pattern, both are only updated by macOS installers and updaters.

After standard power-on self-test and SMC initialisation, the T2 sub-system establishes the level of Secure Boot in force, and, if that’s Full or Medium Security, boot.efi is checked before being loaded, providing security throughout the boot process.

Apple silicon Macs

The introduction of Macs using the M1 family of chips in 2020 brought complete change in firmware to support Secure Boot, and moves away from UEFI completely. The aim of boot security in Apple silicon Macs is to provide a verified chain of trust through each step in the boot process to the loading of macOS, that can’t be exploited by malicious components. This consists of four main stages:

• The Boot ROM in the hardware.
• The Low-Level Bootloader, LLB, or first stage.
• iBoot, or second stage.
• The macOS kernel, which loads all its required kernel extensions.

One of many changes made from UEFI is that startup key combinations have been replaced by the Power button to engage Recovery and other special startup modes, which has both improved security of Recovery mode and made its features more accessible. Instead of the user having to memorise a list of different key combinations required to access different features, all are now integrated within a single environment.

Apple silicon Macs are the first Macs whose firmware can be both upgraded and downgraded by restoring them from IPSW image files when the Mac has been put into DFU mode. For the time being, at least, all Apple silicon Macs run a unified firmware version tied not to the chip or model, but to the macOS version, and only delivered in IPSW files and macOS updates.

Modern domestic cattle originated during the Stone Age from the aurochs, in the Fertile Crescent. Although they remained in Europe until they became extinct in the seventeenth century, aurochs were never domesticated, and few farmers would have known of their existence.

Cattle go under a bewildering variety of English names: cows are females, usually kept for their milk; an ox, plural oxen, can be a generic term for both males and females, or applied more strictly to castrated males commonly used for drawing carts and ploughs; bulls are males used for breeding; steers are young males, often castrated and reared for their meat; finally, bullocks were originally young males, but are now assumed to have been castrated.

Cattle have been bred and raised as draught animals, often seeing wider use than horses, particularly when power is required rather than speed, for their meat, milk and hide. As herbivores, their dung also makes good fertiliser.

One of Paulus Potter’s last paintings, Cows Grazing at a Farm from 1653, shows half a dozen cattle, typical for many small farms of the time, including those primarily working a sheep-corn system for cereal production.

Just as sheep were associated more with arable farming, cattle were often grazed on land unsuitable for crops, including open woodlands, as shown in Rosa Bonheur’s A Herdsman with his Flock from 1852. In some areas, particularly before the enclosures of the eighteenth century and later, these small herds grazed on common land that was shared by locals or all-comers.

Until the advent of the milking machine in the early twentieth century, milking of all domestic animals used as sources of milk could only be performed by hand, wherever the animals might be. Most cows were milked where they were grazing, and for much of the year that required the milkmaid (this being almost exclusively the task of women) to start work in the fields at first light.

Adriaen van de Velde’s undated Milkmaid with Cow and Goats in Front of a Barn is a farmyard delight, with the cow being milked looking directly at the viewer.

Jean-François Millet’s Woman Milking a Cow (1854-60) shows one of this secret army of milkmaids working on location as usual.

Alfred Roll’s full length portrait of Manda Lamétrie, Farmer from 1887 is a Naturalist depiction of a working woman farmer who has just milked the cow behind her. Although she’s far too clean and tidy, it’s of historical interest in that her pail is modern and manufactured from metal.

In the harsher winters of northern Europe, cattle were usually brought in to shelter from the worst of the weather, which would otherwise reduce the milk yield of cows. This allowed the milkmaid to share their shelter.

Gerard ter Borch put the milkmaid and her cow at the centre of this painting, A Maid Milking a Cow in a Barn from about 1652-54. As was universal at that time, milk was collected in a wooden bucket that would have been scrubbed thoroughly before use, but fell far short of modern standards of hygiene.

Cow’s milk wasn’t bottled until the end of the nineteenth century, when processing such as pasteurisation was also introduced. Until then, milk sold in towns and cities often came fresh from the cow.

George Morland’s painting of St. James’s Park from 1788-90 shows a military family together in what’s now a central London park, but was at that time still quite rural, with a cow being milked at the left. This appears to have been a common sight until well into the nineteenth century.

Milk was also transformed into foods such as cheese, as a means of preserving its nutritional value long after the milk would have become sour and inedible. Small-scale cheese production has been widespread throughout the world since long before historical records began. Processing methods have been varied, resulting in innumerable local varieties of cheese that are distinctive of their areas of origin. Milk has also been processed into curds, butter, cream and yogurt.

One great benefit of milking cows was exposure to cowpox, a mild viral illness that provided immunity against its mutilating and often deadly relative smallpox. In 1796, the British physician Edward Jenner made the association between the two diseases, leading to the introduction of vaccination using cowpox virus, and the eventual eradication of smallpox in 1980, long after the eradication of the milkmaids who had made it all possible.

Constant Troyon’s Oxen Going to Work from 1855 shows teams of oxen being driven off to be hitched up to carts or ploughs in draught.

From the end of the Middle Ages, farms started to specialise in breeding cattle for their meat. Across Europe, tracks and later roads developed for crews of itinerant drovers to drive herds to market, where they were sold for slaughter, to yield beef, and their hides were processed into leather.

Sidney Richard Percy’s On the Road to Loch Turret, Crieff (1868) shows a few cattle watering close to this drover’s road near the market town of Crieff in Scotland. Cattle were driven here from rough grazing to the north, and some were sold in Crieff to be driven south through England to the pastures of Norfolk, where they were fattened before walking onward to London, to become roast beef for diners there. Few Londoners would have realised how many hundreds of miles their dinner had walked to reach its plate.

Next week I’ll look at the second favourite food of cattle, hay.

I hope that you enjoyed Saturday’s Mac Riddles, episode 278. Here are my solutions to them.

1: Platform executive arranges props and lighting for window groups.

2: Blank characters open in parks for multiple desktops.

3: Regulate operational flight to exposé them all.

The common factor

I look forward to your putting alternative cases.

Here are this weekend’s Mac riddles to entertain you through family time, shopping and recreation.

1: Platform executive arranges props and lighting for window groups.

2: Blank characters open in parks for multiple desktops.

3: Regulate operational flight to exposé them all.

To help you cross-check your solutions, or confuse you further, there’s a common factor between them.

I’ll post my solutions first thing on Monday morning.

Please don’t post your solutions as comments here: it spoils it for others.

Ancient farmers discovered that repeatedly growing the same crop on the same plot of land soon led to falling yields and crop failure. We now understand this is the result of falling soil fertility: as successive harvests extract nitrogen and other essentials from the soil, without their replenishment there’s none for the plants to incorporate into their fruit or seed. Although animal fertiliser could compensate to some extent, the only solution was to ‘rest’ that land, to allow its soil fertility to be restored.

In southern Europe, including lands bordering the Mediterranean, crop rotation had been adopted by classical times, and was described by the Roman poet Virgil. This typically followed a two-year cycle:

• In one year, the plot would be ploughed and sown, sometimes in both Spring and autumn, to grow crops for harvest.
• The following year, that plot would be left unused, lying fallow.

As a result, at any time half the arable land would be productive, and half fallow and without a crop.

In northern Europe, a three-year cycle developed during the Middle Ages and later. This might run:

• In one year, the plot would be ploughed and sown in the autumn with a winter grain crop.
• The following year, that plot would be sown in the early Spring, with a grain or forage crop, or legumes (peas or beans).
• The third year, that plot would left fallow until the autumn, when it started the cycle again with autumn ploughing.

This is reflected in a different pattern in arable land, with only a third of it being left fallow at any time.

During the seventeenth century, farmers in the Low Countries appear to have adopted more elaborate rotations, and those were imported to England as the Norfolk Four-Course Rotation in the following century. In this:

• The first year brought a wheat crop, sown in the Spring and harvested at the end of summer.
• The second year brought roots, such as swedes or turnips, normally used to feed cattle, which grazed the land and enriched it with manure.
• The third year brought barley or oats, sown in the Spring and harvested at the end of summer.
• The fourth and final year the plot was rested with grass and clover, again used to graze cattle which enriched it with manure.

This depended on integrating livestock production with arable farming, by adding cows to the sheep-corn system, which had become increasingly popular over this period.

One way to assess this is in paintings of farmed countryside, looking at the patterns of usage in fields. I show a small selection of examples here.

In Pieter Bruegel the Elder’s The Harvesters from 1565, much of the land visible is devoted to a single wheat crop, sown at the same time, and harvested together at the end of the summer. Some fields on the lower ground, closer to the town and estuary in the distance, are still green, though, suggesting they may be pasture being grazed during their fallow year.

At the same time as crop rotations were being developed, land was being enclosed and its use transformed from communal grazing for livestock to arable fields. John Crome captures this in this painting of Mousehold Heath, Norwich (c 1818-20), showing the low rolling land to the north-east of the city which had been open heath and common land until the late eighteenth century. By 1810, much of it had been enclosed and ploughed up for agriculture.

At about the same time, Alexandre Calame’s Swiss Landscape shows the shore of one of the country’s large lakes, probably Lake Geneva, with much smaller plots of land within large open fields, and a range of different crops being cultivated. This is more typical of the older sub-divided fields close to villages during earlier centuries in England.

By 1853, when the Pre-Raphaelite landscape artist Thomas Seddon visited Brittany and painted Léhon, from Mont Parnasse, Brittany, this small village had retained similar small plots being farmed in different ways, almost like the allotment gardens that developed around cities at this time.

Fields shown on the side of Les Jalais in Camille Pissarro’s Côte de Jalais, Pontoise from 1867 are divided into larger strips, and are at different stages of cultivation. Some are still earth brown following ploughing, others are green, and some may be ready to harvest. These appear to be in a longer crop rotation, perhaps four-course.

Although the classical two-year cycle was retained for longer in southern France, by 1890-92 when Paul Cézanne painted this Hillside in Provence, the pattern of colour in the fields makes it more likely that a three-year or longer rotation was in use.

By the early twentieth century, most farmland in England had been enclosed, but the fields in Percy Shakespeare’s painting of December on the Downs, Wartime, from the period 1939-44, remain open and still in use for a sheep-wheat system.

Perhaps the lesson here is that accounts of land use and crop rotations are too generalised to reflect the rich variety of local farming methods. As I have so far concentrated on arable and sheep farming, in the next article I’ll look at cattle and milk production.

I hope that you enjoyed Saturday’s Mac Riddles, episode 277. Here are my solutions to them.

1: Volatile anaesthetic to catch fish over coaxial cable.

2: Flight terminal for wireless in cards and base stations.

3: Neighbourhood chat between a twisted pair came with the LaserWriter.

The common factor

I look forward to your putting alternative cases.

Here are this weekend’s Mac riddles to entertain you through family time, shopping and recreation.

1: Volatile anaesthetic to catch fish over coaxial cable.

2: Flight terminal for wireless in cards and base stations.

3: Neighbourhood chat between a twisted pair came with the LaserWriter.

To help you cross-check your solutions, or confuse you further, there’s a common factor between them.

I’ll post my solutions first thing on Monday morning.

Please don’t post your solutions as comments here: it spoils it for others.

How many design and print shops started off with two Macs and a printer, and blossomed with the desktop publishing revolution of the 1980s? Yet when it was first launched, the Mac had poor printer support, and didn’t even have a parallel port, then the standard for office printers. In June 1984, Apple released the first printer designed for the Mac, the dot-matrix ImageWriter with a serial port. The following March came the LaserWriter, featuring PostScript and LocalTalk. The latter was a poor man’s Ethernet, running through an RS-422 port over cheap and simple LocalTalk cabling.

Printer support software was initially primitive, with a small desk accessory named Choose Printer to select which port and driver to use. In System 7 (1991), this became an app in its own right, the Chooser, to handle both printer and network connections.

Printer setup was handled through the Chooser too.

Printer configuration used PPD files for each model of supported printer.

The print dialog supported printing to file as well, although in those days that most commonly generated raw PostScript files rather than PDF.

By 2001 with Mac OS X, printing and networking had become so separated that the Chooser was replaced by the Print Centre, although OS X was still in need of a full print architecture. That arrived in 10.2 (2002) in CUPS (originally the Common Unix Printing System), which had been developed by Michael Sweet.

In Mac OS X 10.3 (2003), Print Centre was replaced by the Printer Setup Utility app, with a pane in System Prefs and later System Preferences. That was initially named Print & Fax, then Print & Scan in 10.7 (2011), and became Printers & Scanners from 10.9 (2013).

Printer Setup Utility became increasingly complex. Here it is in Mac OS X 10.4 Tiger in 2006, when it supported a variety of printer connections, and drivers for each of the more popular models from many manufacturers.

CUPS is powerful and sophisticated, with its own repair feature.

In 2001, the Network pane was still used to configure AppleTalk, as supported by Apple’s own printers, the last of which had been discontinued in 1999.

In 2002, Printer Utility still showed its influence from the Chooser.

This is the Print dialog from 2001.

This is the Print & Fax pane from System Preferences in Snow Leopard, in 2010. Note that this includes a scanner, although the pane wasn’t renamed to Printers & Scanners until 10.9 (2013).

OS X incorporated its own printer drivers as well as those provided by printer manufacturers, a feature that was transformed when Apple introduced AirPrint (in conjunction with Hewlett-Packard) in late 2010, primarily to support printing from the iPad. Although AirPrint didn’t come to OS X until 2012, since then support has grown to become almost universal, over a period in which most printers have become less used, to the point where many now just sit gathering dust.

Wheat and cereals were by no means the only crops grown at scale by farmers, although the acreage devoted to them accounted for the majority of arable land in most parts of Europe until the nineteenth century. Other crops were adopted for two main benefits: to sell for profit as a ‘cash crop’, or to improve the soil, often as part of a crop rotation system.

Buckwheat was a traditional local crop where the land rises up from the bog of Teufelsmoor, an artists’ colony to the north of Bremen, in Lower Saxony. In Fritz Overbeck’s Buckwheat Fields at Weyerberg from about 1897, he catches a small field of the pseudocereal in full flower, the upper parts pale gold in the light of the setting sun. Buckwheat isn’t a grass at all, but is more closely related to sorrel and rhubarb, with edible triangular seeds. It thrives on the poor, acid soils in this area, provided they are well-drained. Because it has a short growing period of only 10-12 weeks, it can suppress summer weeds, and thrives best in soil with low nitrogen content.

Theodor von Hörmann’s oil sketch of a Sainfoin Field at Znaim II from about 1893 shows a crop now little-known: sainfoin, a chalk-loving forage crop which used to be important for working horses. Sainfoin is a legume, so not only feeds the farm’s horses, but also increases the nitrogen content in soil. It’s equally good food for cattle and sheep.

I’m not sure where Mykhaylo Berkos painted these Flax Blooms in 1893; they’re a particularly appropriate theme for an accomplished oil painter, as flax is the source of linseed oil, one of the major drying oils used as a binder in many oil paints, and its fibres can be used for ‘canvas’ too.

The common flax appears to have been first domesticated in the Middle East, and has spread steadily across Europe, reaching northern Europe around five thousand years ago. Unlike other sources of drying oils, it prospers in the cool and wetter climates of northern Europe. It has been used widely for the production of fabrics for clothing and many other purposes, and its seed as a foodstuff, used as an edible oil and ground into flour.

Emile Claus here shows Flax Harvesting in 1904, near his cottage in East Flanders, Belgium. Below are some flax seeds ready for pressing to make linseed oil.

Vincent van Gogh’s painting after Millet shows a Peasant Woman Bruising Flax (1889), an early part of the process of transforming it into linen. Below, Max Liebermann shows a later stage as flax fibres are spun into yarn, in The Flax Barn at Laren (1880-90).

Although grown in more limited quantities, crops used for the manufacture of dyes became important in some regions. Among those was madder, used widely to dye clothing and, after processing, in artists paints.

Jan Vermeer’s Christ in the House of Martha and Mary from about 1654-56 is a good example of the use of Madder Lake by one of the Dutch Masters.

One of the early challenges in the history of art materials was the transformation of vegetable dyes into pigments, in many cases, the process of laking. The need was simple: take a vegetable dye such as the Crimson derived from Madder plants, and fix it into pigment particles which can be dispersed in gum solution (watercolour) or a drying oil medium.

Neither the Romans nor the Greeks appear to have solved this on any scale, but at some time between the Classical civilisations and the pre-Renaissance, someone discovered that aluminium salts would combine with the colourants in Madder extract and make a pigment which was suitable for fine art painting: Madder Lake.

Over time, many different recipes for the preparation of Madder Lakes evolved. By using different species of Madder plant, adjusting the method of extracting the colourants from its root, and using different salts for the laking process, Madder Lakes covered a broad range of hues from pale purples through pinks to brilliant scarlet.

Another important crop was clover, a legume that fixes nitrogen in the soil, so increasing its fertility for subsequent food crops.

Jules Breton’s Blessing of the Wheat in Artois from 1857 shows more than fields of wheat. As the artist wrote to his then fiancée Élodie:
Against a dazzling background of light in which the gold of the wheat combines with the emerald green of the clover, losing itself finally in the sky in a warm, transparent vapour, a solemn and silent procession of country folk moves slowly and piously along, with the sun at their backs and their shadows in front.

Farmers in much of Britain and France didn’t appear to grow many of these alternatives until the eighteenth century, but in the Low Countries of what is now the Netherlands and Belgium they were locally common even before the previous century. This helped build the Low Countries into a great trading nation and bring on the Dutch Golden Age with its fine paintings.

Jan Bieleman has given figures for the percentage of arable land devoted to different types of crop in West-Zeeuws-Vlaanderen between 1670-1795. Throughout those two centuries, wheat and pulses (peas, beans) were most popular at 24-30% each, with barley in third place. Flax was grown on 4% until it decreased after 1720, rapeseed (a brassica crop still grown widely for its oil) on 2-4%, with madder, potatoes and carrots on even less land. Only about 15% of the area was lying fallow at any time, making it highly productive for the period. That leads us to look at crop rotation in the next article, where paintings can be particularly useful as historical records.

Reference

Jan Bieleman (2010), Five Centuries of Farming, a short history of Dutch agriculture 1500-2000, Wageningen Academic, ISBN 978 90 8686 133 0.

I hope that you enjoyed Saturday’s Mac Riddles, episode 276. Here are my solutions to them.

1: Armour, postal matter or electronic message delivered in 2001.

2: Originally Minotaur, from first release in 2004 it reads the news as well as the Andersons’ puppets.

3: Those attending the important came with a PIM in 2000, but was replaced by outlook 10 years later.

The common factor

I look forward to your putting alternative cases.

Here are this weekend’s Mac riddles to entertain you through family time, shopping and recreation.

1: Armour, postal matter or electronic message delivered in 2001.

2: Originally Minotaur, from first release in 2004 it reads the news as well as the Andersons’ puppets.

3: Those attending the important came with a PIM in 2000, but was replaced by outlook 10 years later.

To help you cross-check your solutions, or confuse you further, there’s a common factor between them.

I’ll post my solutions first thing on Monday morning.

Please don’t post your solutions as comments here: it spoils it for others.

So far in this series, I have concentrated on the production of staple cereals such as wheat and rye. The fundamental aim of that arable farming is simply to multiply the number of grains of cereal, so that for each seed sown there are more harvested and delivered as food. Example figures given by Mark Overton for a typical English farm in the early sixteenth century suggest a gross wheat yield of 8-12 bushels per acre (forgive the antiquated units!), for a fixed cost in seed of 2.5 bushels per acre, giving net yields of 5.5-9.5 bushels per acre. By 1854, net yield of wheat had risen to 30 bushels per acre.

Early arable farmers realised that soil quality was key to the efficiency of this process. When seed is sown in soil of high fertility, then harvest yield will be higher. Thin soils were easiest to cultivate but also the quickest to lose their fertility, so farmers had to develop methods for increasing soil fertility to compensate. Among those discovered to be beneficial were:

• ‘resting’ the soil by leaving it fallow and uncultivated;
• growing a nitrogen-fixing crop such as clover or legumes (peas or beans);
• applying fertiliser such as dung.

The first two resulted in systems of crop rotation, a subject I’ll cover in the future. This article looks at one of the most popular methods for delivering fertiliser in the form of animal dung, using sheep, the best mobile source available in much of Europe at the time.

Sheep have other value as farm livestock, providing meat, milk and fleeces, but those were limited relative their value as fertilisers of the soil. During the day, sheep both graze and deposit dung and urine on the ground; at night they stop grazing, but continue to drop dung and urine. Daytime dung therefore fertilises their grazing pastures, while that of the night can be used to fertilise the soil used to grow cereals. The value of the latter was so great that many landowners controlled its rights, known as folding rights, to benefit their own land with sheep dung rather than the soil of their tenants.

Jean-François Millet’s Shepherd Tending His Flock shows thin and scrawny sheep feeding on the stubble left after harvest, common practice in areas with lighter soils where sheep-corn farming became popular.

Anton Mauve’s Return of the Flock (1886-7) shows a small flock of unshorn ewes with young lambs, in the late Spring or early summer, possibly on the move to or from folding.

This engraving by Welby Sherman from one of Samuel Palmer’s sketches in his Shoreham sketchbooks, Evening (1834), shows a small flock in a fold at night, where they’re fertilising the soil as the shepherd dozes behind them.

The most famous of Millet’s few nocturnes, The Sheepfold, Moonlight from 1856-60, shows a shepherd working his dogs to bring his flock into a fold or pen on the plain near Barbizon. He is doing this under a waning gibbous moon lighting the backs of the sheep.

Strangely, folding of sheep as a mobile source of dung as fertiliser was widely practised across England, but almost unknown in the Low Countries including the Netherlands. As a practice it could compromise the value of sheep for other purposes. Those grazing on rolling chalk downs in daytime might have to walk several miles each day to drop their dung overnight in arable fields in the valley, and return, so fattening less for slaughter.

Sheep could also be driven longer distances to market, as shown in Constant Troyon’s On the Way to Market from 1859.

Heinrich Bürkel’s Shepherds in the Roman Campagna from 1837 has an almost documentary quality, in the rough and dusty peasants slumped on their horses and donkeys. In the foreground a couple of ewes are looking up at their lambs being carried in a pannier, and a dog is challenging a snake by the roadside.

In areas where domestic animals moved between highland pastures for the summer, and lowland grazing for the winter, including much of Spain, sheep could cover great distances each year in the transhumance.

Realising the value of their fleeces required annual shearing by hand.

The Shearers (c 1833-35) is the most ambitious of Samuel Palmer’s works from his period at Shoreham. This shows the seasonal work of a shearing gang, in a sophisticated composition drawing the gaze to the brilliant and more distant view beyond. The curious collection of tools to the right was the subject of preparatory sketches, and seems to have been carefully composed. However they have defied any symbolic interpretation, and may just ‘look right’.

Millet’s Sheep Shearing from about 1854 shows the highly skilled task of hand-shearing the fleece from a sheep. A man holds the animal still, resting over the end of a large barrel. A woman is using hand shears to cut the fleece from the sheep, as was universal before the introduction of machine shearing from 1888. Even with highly skilled hands, this is a difficult process, and it’s hard to remove the complete fleece. In some parts of the world, itinerant shearing teams would have performed this task, but for small flocks on poor farms it had to be carried out by those working the farm.

Fleeces generated the wool trade, centred on towns and cities that grew rich from the proceeds of wool and its weaving into fabrics. Ports specialising in the import and export of wool flourished around the coasts of Europe, and prosperous and powerful families made their fortunes from fleeces sheared on farms hundreds or even thousand of miles away.

In this period, one of the natural predators of sheep, the Eurasian wolf, was hunted to extinction in much of Western Europe. Pieter Brueghel the Younger’s The Good Shepherd from 1616 shows a shepherd being attacked by a wolf, as he tries to save his flock, which are running in panic into the nearby wood.

Other parts of the British Isles saw rural areas stripped of their human, farming populations, only to be replaced by sheep. William Watson’s Highland Wanderers – Morning Glen Croe, Argyllshire (1906) shows a valley in the middle of the Arrochar ‘Alps’, an exceptionally rugged mountainous area of the Cowal Peninsula, to the north-west of Loch Lomond in Scotland. By this time, the Highland Clearances had driven most of the human population into the cities further south, or to flee overseas as migrants.

Next week I’ll conclude this account in paintings of arable farming by considering cash crops, such as flax and madder.

I hope that you enjoyed Saturday’s Mac Riddles, episode 275. Here are my solutions to them.

1: Traced in epidemics and in emergencies, it replaced 2.

2: Formal speech and memory location publication until superseded by 1.

3. Packed lunch came in 2008 to integrate 2 with a table of dates.

The common factor

I look forward to your putting alternative cases.

Here are this weekend’s Mac riddles to entertain you through family time, shopping and recreation.

1: Traced in epidemics and in emergencies, it replaced 2.

2: Formal speech and memory location publication until superseded by 1.

3. Packed lunch came in 2008 to integrate 2 with a table of dates.

To help you cross-check your solutions, or confuse you further, there’s a common factor between them.

I’ll post my solutions first thing on Monday morning.

Please don’t post your solutions as comments here: it spoils it for others.

One of the most fundamental questions you can ask is what’s in my Mac, and what’s connected to it? From the size of its memory to the extensions it has loaded, we often need to know all about Mac internals. As Macs became more configurable and were offered with options, this became increasingly important.

From as early as System 4.1 in 1987, Macs could deliver more detailed information, that was gathered together in a new app, Apple System Profiler, in System 7.6 at the start of 1997. The following screenshots show Apple System Profiler at the height of its maturity, in System 9.0.4 during the Spring of 2000.

This Mac is a Power Mac G4 (AGP Graphics) model from 1999-2000, one of Apple’s distinctive ‘blue and white’ tower systems with a single-core PowerPC 7400 processor running at 450 MHz. It has 512 MB of memory and internal ATA hard disks. Notable by their absence from this overview are UUIDs, as they were seldom used at that time.

Two of its three internal expansion slots were occupied by a SCSI card, to connect to SCSI peripherals, and its display card driving the monitor.

With just two 12 Mb/s USB ports, one is wired to a USB hub, and has five peripherals connected to it, including a USB to serial adaptor.

Such information has also been critical for those developing software and hardware for the Mac, and in System 6.0.4 of 1989 Apple introduced a new dictionary of a Mac’s capabilities in its Gestalt system, whose name in English means an organised whole that’s perceived as more than the sum of its parts, an appropriate description of both a Mac and its OS.

In those days, Apple liked four-byte character codes, such as the Type and Creator codes used for all files in classic Mac OS, so each Gestalt was assigned a four-character identifier by Apple. When an app wanted to know which version of QuickTime was running, for example, all it had to do was call for the particular Gestalt value for that code.

Gestalt should have been a perfect solution, being concise, straightforward and accessible. But adoption was slow, and most important information was never added to its dictionary.

With the arrival of Mac OS X, Gestalt was carried over in its Carbon interfaces, but it slowly withered and died, being deprecated in 2012 when OS X 10.8 was released. You can find its remains still in Apple’s developer documentation.

In 2011, Mac OS X 10.7 replaced what had become shortened to System Profiler with the redesigned System Information, which has remained in macOS ever since.

For comparison, here’s an iMac Retina 27-inch in 2015, and a more modern USB hub supporting up to 480 Mb/s, in System Information.

Data gathered by System Information is also available to apps, although many developers prefer to delve into the mine of data in IOKit instead. There are times when I wonder what would have happened had Gestalt proved as successful as it deserved.

Despite their popularity as crops for millennia, cereals require preparation into more palatable form before they can form the mainstay of most diets, as one of the staple sources of carbohydrates, as they were across Europe before the popularisation of the potato after 1750. Wheat and rye were most commonly crushed into flour in mills, then that was baked into bread.

Early manual milling was replaced during classical times by mills driven by a range of natural power, including animals, wind and water. In 1786, the first steam-powered grain mill opened for business in London, although wind and water were to remain dominant in many rural districts until well into the twentieth century.

Windmills developed during the Middle Ages, and by 1500 were widespread across many parts of Europe. Although their design evolved and improved into the nineteenth century, their common principle is to expose rotating sails to wind, and transfer that rotating force to one of a pair of large millstones, within which the grain or grist is ground into flour.

Rembrandt painted few non-narrative landscapes, but among them is his dramatic view of The Mill (1645-48) seen in the rich rays of twilight. This is a post mill, whose wooden top was turned into the wind to set its sails turning. It’s sited on a small hill giving it the greatest exposure to wind.

The great masters of Dutch landscape art like Jacob van Ruisdael must have painted many hundreds of windmills, of which one of the best-known is this view of The Windmill at Wijk bij Duurstede from about 1670. This small town, now a city, is on the bank of the River Rhine, an ideal location for delivering sacks of grain by barge, and shipping the resulting sacks of flour. This should have kept this tower mill as busy as the wind allowed, and its owner prosperous.

The British topographic painter John Varley painted this close-up view of the well-known Red House Mill, Battersea, Surrey, with its good access by barge and proximity to the city of London. This is a wooden smock mill, a design pioneered by the Dutch in the seventeenth century.

Samuel Palmer’s Summer Storm near Pulborough, Sussex from about 1851 refers to Dutch landscape painting, but in a very Kentish context. A storm is seen approaching the rolling countryside near Pulborough, now in West Sussex, in the south-east of England. On the left, in the middle distance, a small bridge leads across to a hamlet set around a prominent windmill, whose blades are blurred as they’re driven by the wind. Beyond that mill are fields of ripening cereal.

Some windmills used their power to cut wood in sawmills, and others raised water, tasks also powered by water in watermills. These were of even more ancient origin, devised by combining waterwheels with toothed gears in the couple of centuries before the Christian era.

The Old Water Mill from 1790 is one of British painter George Morland’s finest landscapes, and shows a small undershot watermill deep in the English countryside.

A contemporary of Morland, James Ward wasn’t shy of showing the increasing dereliction in the troubled British countryside at this time. An Overshot Mill (1802-1807) shows a rickety overshot watermill used for the grinding of grain. Its fabric is in dire need of repairs, and the thatchers are already making a start on its roof.

John Constable’s contrasting view of Parham Mill, Gillingham from about 1826 shows an undershot watermill near the town of Gillingham in Dorset, visited by the artist during the early 1820s. Also known as Parham’s Mill and later Purns Mill, it burned to the ground in 1825.

When the German-American landscape artist Albert Bierstadt was painting in Düsseldorf, Germany, in 1855 he made this idyllic view of A Rustic Mill which is clearly overshot, being fed along a wooden aqueduct. In contrast to many of the other paintings of mills from this period, this appears in an excellent state of repair and prosperous.

Nikolai Astrup’s Going to the Mill from about 1900-05 is a complete essay on watermills, pictured in perfect rainy milling weather, with the streams in spate during the autumn/fall. A mill race, running down its wooden channel, feeds a small undershot paddle in the centre, used to turn a millstone for sharpening knives and tools. Water flow to that is regulated by the simple valve upstream, currently in the off position, and shedding the water to either side. The man and his son are taking a sack of grain up to another mill, possibly the small shed seen in the centre distance, to grind flour for the family’s baking.

That completes my pictorial account of cereals in arable farming prior to mechanisation, from plowing the soil to milling the grain into flour. Pure arable farming was unusual, though, and the companions to fields of cereals were often sheep, the subject of next week’s article.

I hope that you enjoyed Saturday’s Mac Riddles, episode 274. Here are my solutions to them.

1: Exam success with a group of letters like open sesame.

2: 1 in 2007 and 16 this year like raid 1 for a new pairing.

3: Dumping grounds for gratuities and little hints.

The common factor

I look forward to your putting alternative cases.

Here are this weekend’s Mac riddles to entertain you through family time, shopping and recreation.

1: Exam success with a group of letters like open sesame.

2: 1 in 2007 and 16 this year like raid 1 for a new pairing.

3: Dumping grounds for gratuities and little hints.

To help you cross-check your solutions, or confuse you further, there’s a common factor between them.

I’ll post my solutions first thing on Monday morning.

Please don’t post your solutions as comments here: it spoils it for others.

The original Macintosh running Classic Mac OS was dependent on a great many components, but the most important of all was its graphics system QuickDraw. Without that, none of the windows, icons and images that were composed into its human interface would have happened. Although almost everything from QuickDraw has now been superseded and removed from modern macOS, you can still open most of its QuickDraw images saved in its custom format, PICT.

QuickDraw

QuickDraw was originally written by Andy Hertzfeld (b 1953) and Bill Atkinson (b 1951), who devised a remarkably innovative raster-based system, and implemented it to perform exceptionally well on the limited hardware available, starting with an 8 MHz 68000 CPU with only 128 KB of memory. It’s based around a logical drawing area called a GrafPort, which can be that within a window, the whole Desktop, or somewhere off-screen.

GrafPort coordinates set their origin at the top left and are signed 16-bit integers, giving a range of -32,767 to +32,767. Coordinates refer not to the pixels within the GrafPort, but to the infinitely thin lines between them. When drawing along a line between two coordinates, the thinnest line shown is a series of pixels below and to the right of the line. Pixels are square, and their default resolution conforms to the printing standard of 72 pixels/points per inch, just over 28 per centimetre. These were essential, to ensure that what you saw on the Mac’s display was what you got from the printer, WYSIWYG.

QuickDraw has commands to support a good range of graphics primitives, but Bill Atkinson’s stroke of genius was the data structure known as a Region, an arbitrary set of pixels that didn’t even have to be contiguous. Although initially constrained to 32 KB of memory, rising later to 64 KB, Regions can be combined with others, differenced, and manipulated in other ways. Their internal structure remains largely opaque, apart from the technical description used by Apple in its patent.

Picture and PICT

The other key data structure in QuickDraw is a Picture, the series of QuickDraw operations called to generate or manipulate images within a GrafPort. Those can be recorded, and played back later to repeat generation of that image, perhaps in a different GrafPort and coordinates. Rather than standardise on a raster graphics file format, QuickDraw saves Pictures in PICT files.

Initial releases of QuickDraw only supported black and white images, although limited colour support was added to work with Apple’s four-colour dot-matrix printer, the ImageWriter II of 1985. For the release of the Macintosh II in 1987, QuickDraw was extended to Color QuickDraw using CGrafPorts with 8-bit video cards. It was later enhanced to support 32 bits per pixel, in what is commonly known as 32-bit QuickDraw. The PICT file format had a similar journey. Originally, it only supported eight colours in PICT 1, then PICT 2 brought 24-bit colour and greyscale.

Examples

Here are some examples of QuickDraw graphics from Mac OS 9 in 2000, each converted from its original PICT screenshot taken 24 years ago.

This is Macromedia (also Aldus) FreeHand, then a competitor to Adobe Illustrator, before it was finally killed by Adobe in 2003.

This is Computer System Odessa’s ConceptDraw, then a new product, and still available for macOS.

This is Strata 3D, a high-end 3D modelling app first released for the Mac in 1988 and still available.

This is a typical role-playing game of the day.

This is X-Plane flight simulator by Austin Meyer of Laminar Research, first launched in 1995, and still going strong with support for Apple silicon Macs.

Quartz

Apple adopted a new graphics system for Mac OS X, although to begin with 32-bit Colour QuickDraw was retained in its Carbon API. Its replacement, Quartz, is built around PDF 1.4, but performed poorly until Quartz 2D Extreme in Mac OS X 10.4 (2005) offloaded its rendering to early GPUs. With that, QuickDraw was deprecated, and support successively removed, although there are still some graphics apps like GraphicConverter that can open and convert PICT files. Preview used to be able to as well, but that too seems to have been removed.

Documentation

You can still read Apple’s detailed guide to QuickDraw, Pictures and PICT files in Imaging with QuickDraw, which also gives you an idea of the depth and quality of Apple’s documentation in the past.

Harvested cereal needs to be separated into grain, stems of straw, and miscellaneous fragments such as husk known as chaff. Of these, the grain is the most valuable as it will be ground into flour, a process shown in the next article in this series. Long straw was also a valuable commodity, as it was used extensively for thatching, while the chaff was usually discarded. Separating grain and chaff from straw was accomplished by threshing, one of the first processes in arable farming to be mechanised, while removing the chaff is referred to as winnowing.

In ancient civilisations, threshing was performed by striking the cut crop using flails, as show in this marginal drawing in the Luttrell Psalter from the east of England. This is thought to have been made in about 1325-35, when this tiring and inefficient method was still widespread.

In ancient Egypt, oxen were used, first to trample the grain with their hooves and later to draw a heavy rotating sledge or roller over the cut crop. This was usually performed on a flat and elevated area, where the wind could blow away much of the generated chaff.

Goya’s greatest achievement in his series showing the seasons, and probably the finest of all his cartoons, is that for summer, seen here in his sketch of The Threshing Floor from 1786. Although the huge finished version is more finely detailed, his brushwork there is also surprisingly loose. Two horses used to tow the heavy roller at the far left are here seen at rest, as the labourers relax. They’re holding pitchforks, used to load the threshing floor with cut cereal and gather the straw when the load has been threshed.

In PS Krøyer’s Threshing in the Abruzzi from 1890, a century later, teams of oxen are trampling the crop to thresh it.

Jean-Léon Gérôme’s The Grain Threshers, Egypt (1859) shows this as one of the more traditional employments for animals, who are drawing a threshing sledge.

While much of the work of harvest remained intensely and exhaustively manual, some processes like the separation of grain seeds from inedible straw proved amenable to mechanisation.

In Franz Niklaus König’s Farmers, around the House;, or Farmer Family in the Barn from 1798, one of the early hand-cranked threshing machines is shown on the right, as the farmer is winnowing clouds of chaff from the grain it produced. Most barns were built with large openings at each end, to allow natural breezes to blow the chaff away and leave the denser grain in the large, shallow wickerwork trays used for winnowing.

By the end of the nineteenth century, animals and other sources of power were being used, as shown in Albert Rigolot’s painting of The Threshing Machine, Loiret from 1893, with a detail below. One of the early uses for steam engines was to power similar machines. The next step was to make those engines mobile under their own power, as traction engines.

Jean-François Millet’s portrait of Ceres (The Summer) from about 1864-65 shows her holding a traditional winnow in her left hand.

Storage was a major consideration, too. Although threshed grain generally keeps well, it’s prone to rodents and must be kept dry. A traditional solution was to build the sheaves of cut cereal into grainstacks, then protect them with a covering of thatch. These are different from the stacks of hay also common in the countryside, and played a major role in Impressionism.

Claude Monet first painted a series of canvases depicting grainstacks at Giverny, literally outside his back yard, in 1889. In the early autumn of 1890, Monet started a fresh series consisting of two grainstacks, now accorded Wildenstein numbers of W1266 to W1279. During that winter, the farmer was able to start threshing, and one of the grainstacks was consumed.

Apparently Monet paid the farmer to retain the single remaining grainstack so he could continue the series, allowing him to paint W1280 to W1290, each showing that single grainstack. After various delays during which Monet apparently made further adjustments to the paintings in the series, the first fifteen canvases were shown at an exhibition at the Durand-Ruel Gallery in Paris, which opened on 4 May 1891. They all sold, for sums of up to 1,000 francs, and provided Monet with an excellent return for his winter’s work.

Looking at Grainstacks, End of Summer, considered to be one of the earliest in the series and numbered 1266, the trees behind the two grainstacks are still in full summer leaf, with no indication of the advent of autumn. Yet Monet’s signature gives the year as 1891. Looking at its paint surface in detail, some has been applied wet-in-wet and blended with underlying and adjacent paint, but many other brushstrokes have clearly been applied over dry underlayers.

Grainstack, Sun in the Mist, numbered 1286, is thought to be one of the later paintings in the series, apparently showing the sole remaining grainstack in the Spring of 1891. It too has multiple layers applied wet-on-dry, with many hatched brushstrokes in shades of orange and pink apparently applied over a well-dried surface. Below is a summary of the whole series.

Among the great dangers to grainstacks was fire.

Jules Breton’s The Burning Haystack from 1856 is mistitled, as it in fact shows a grainstack, as seen in the sheaves being removed from it in haste. The panic-stricken villagers must work quickly if they are to save a substantial part of their grain store for the coming winter.

Granaries incorporated an ingenious solution to exclude rats and mice: they were constructed on a support of staddlestones, each a pair of stones fashioned into the form of a mushroom. These are now commonly seen in the country, where they’re used to prevent drivers from running their vehicles over grass borders outside properties. Rats and mice are happy to climb vertical surfaces, but can’t cope with the overhang of the cap of a staddlestone, an ancient solution to the problem.

I hope that you enjoyed Saturday’s Mac Riddles, episode 273. Here are my solutions to them.

1: Resign, stop and almost quite is final.

2: Almost all round opens a window first.

3: Past preferences when celestial bodies sink below the horizon.

The common factor

I look forward to your putting alternative cases.

Here are this weekend’s Mac riddles to entertain you through family time, shopping and recreation.

1: Resign, stop and almost quite is final.

2: Almost all round opens a window first.

3: Past preferences when celestial bodies sink below the horizon.

To help you cross-check your solutions, or confuse you further, there’s a common factor between them.

I’ll post my solutions first thing on Monday morning.

Please don’t post your solutions as comments here: it spoils it for others.