Fences have long been part of rural life. The once popular page wire in its rusting elegance still secures old acreages, and the pole fence made with whole logs, or the stump fence, once bordered croplands throughout the region. New England Planters, Loyalists, Acadians, and assorted Yankees found use for a bounty of boulders in the fieldstone fences of their forefathers.

But the split rail fence did the yeoman’s work of marking property lines, squaring crop fields and maintaining order among livestock. Known as a crooked, snake, or zigzag fence, this style is iconic and adaptable.

It’s self-supporting and needs no pesky post hole digging, so pioneers with more ledge than loam embraced the split rail fence. It’s easy to erect or remove and, if made correctly, can give a century of service. A split rail fence is eco-friendly, does away with buying metal fastenings, and you can make it from materials at hand.

Crooked choices
Determine your fence’s direction. Assess the land features, consider future crops or livestock, and grass control. Will you need to alter the line around unmovable objects?

Here lies the adaptability of split rail fence, as they never tame the terrain but cheerfully follow hollows, heights, or old furrows. There is a purpose and peace in a split rail fence’s solidity. 

Cedar works easily and lasts many years. Trees can be crooked, partially rotten, or even hollow, but still yield rails. Size wise, any diameter cedar will produce rails — bigger diameters of course producing more — depending on the size you require. Cedar is easier to handle if dry, so I cut in spring, let it season all summer up off the ground, and split it in the autumn. I cut my logs 10 feet (3 metres) long instead of the standard rail of 16.5 feet (5 metres) — the length equal to a surveyor’s measurement, known as a rod or pole. Early land grants in the area were 40 rods wide and split rail bordered them all.

Pounding out the poles
Find an open work area with room to wrestle. Tools include your loyal chainsaw, several splitting wedges, a pry bar, a sledgehammer, and a chalk line or lumber crayon. 

Choose a couple logs for cutting chocks. In the middle of both, cut a wide deep notch to hold them as you work. Roll a log into the notches and chalk a guide down the middle. Set wedges in a couple feet apart and commence hammering — or you can break out the chainsaw.

Cut down at one end until the bar is through. Cut slowly along the chalk line, working down then back. You may not cut the whole way through, but don’t worry. Once you reach the end, carefully cut out of the log. Shut the chainsaw off, pick up your sledge, and tap the wedges in.

Set your feet and swing. Your log will generally split but if it’s stubborn, work the halves apart with a pry bar. Then roll one back in place, chalk a line and repeat. A splitting pattern of 1/2 to 1/4 to 1/8, or roughly three splittings of a 10 inch/25 centimetre diameter log, can be expected to yield 6 to 8 rails.

Geometry makes the fence
Now with a stack of rails, it’s time to plot your course. To maintain consistent spacing, you need a guide pole. If you work with 10-foot (3.05-metre) rails, cut a measuring pole the same. Next run a guide string or series of spaced stakes the length of the fence, which will keep your eye honest and the direction true.

Also consider where the ends point. Traditionally for property lines, the apex sits square on the surveyor’s line with the open end inside your property, but you can alter this method for lawns or other factors.

A split rail fence is many series of V’s with the points replacing standard fence posts. The wide-open end faces away but must be equal width or it looks messy.

Lastly, cut a series of round slabs off a log to support the bottom rail. Flattish stones also work. This adds height and keeps the bottom rail dry.

A-railing we will go
Following the guide string lay two rails in a V with the first setting atop the second. Be sure all subsequent rails point this way. The width of the open end of the V is measured by using your guide pole. Each point where wood touches earth needs a stone or slab of wood under it. Repeat this and you will have a clear vision of the zig zag appearance so beloved by photographers. Keep your V points in line and the opposite wide end as well. It’s OK if the ends run past one another and be sure to check your direction often.

You’ll know it’s going correctly if the rail junctions all point up. Follow the string line closely and keep equal lengths of division. Stop often to look at the progress. Watch up ahead for the obstacles so you can work them into the design.

This style of fence can swerve quickly if the unexpected comes along — just begin any turns slowly and then pull the fence back in. One you reach the farthest point, go back to the first rail and continue to work back across in the same fashion one tier at a time.

If four or five rails is high enough, stop stacking. Much depends on your goal — heirloom celebration or a working fence with agricultural purpose? High stacks of eight rails were once the rule for livestock.

Pound sections of sharpened rail into the ground inside and outside of the apex with the tops crisscrossed to fortify fencing for those pesky pushers. Old wire salvaged from abandoned fences will pull the short stakes together for a stronger bond.

Beginnings and endings
A good split rail build begins and ends the same solid way. A rail fence can intercept an existing fence, run out, set into two posts with crossbars, or hang on the limbs of a handy tree. I’ve even encountered old farm implements used to start or finish a split rail fence. Probably the simplest method is to stand the last free rail ends on wood blocks.

A spilt rail fence provides an inviting environment with mixed shade. Over time, rail fences slowly surrender to the wild, with assorted shrubbery asserting its rights. Folks now understand the importance of leaving some foliage and ground ungroomed, and as split rail fences slowly age, apple trees, wild hazelnuts, and raspberry canes emerge.

A fence is one of humankind’s oldest creations, likely the invention of a frustrated agriculturist. Keeping critters out of the corn is still a full-time task and the reliable split rail fence is quite capable of meeting many modern needs.

The test of time
Historical documents abound with mention of the “ingenious setting” of rails. Military officers posted in Halifax or Fredericton spoke and sketched about rail fences. Colonel Gubbin’s New Brunswick Journals of 1811 has several references on crooked fences guarding grain. Patrick Campbell illustrated sturdy zigzag fencing in New Brunswick along the Saint John River in 1792 and a sketch of Woodstock, N.B., in 1850 also shows split rail running along property lines.

Split rail fences speak of a slower time of hand-mown buckwheat, of sturdy oxen, and the generations who worked the hard-won fields. Like the pirogue dugout, the split rail fence bowed to modernism, with very few examples surviving.

Split rails themselves have long been a valuable country commodity with rural mercantiles accepted rails like any other farm produce. A country store ledger of mine from 1901 lists 350 fence rails worth $7, traded for store credit.

Rail fences were part of my childhood, with most a century old by the time I first scaled them on berry-picking expeditions. A section of the original boundary rail fence from 1864 on my holdings is still recognizable as it silently guards the frontier.