Grain and Chaff from an English Manor Part 13

ORCHARDS--APPLES--CIDER--PERRY.

"Lo! sweetened with the summer light, The full-juiced apple, waxing over-mellow Drops in a silent autumn night."

--_The Lotus-Eaters_.

A curious old punning Latin line, ill.u.s.trating various meanings of the word _malus_, an apple, seems appropriate, as a commencement, to writing about apples; it is I think very little known, and too good to be forgotten. _Malo, malo, malo, malo_; it is translated thus:

"_Malo_, I would rather be, _Malo_, in an apple-tree, _Malo_, than a bad boy, _Malo_, in adversity."

The fruit was an important item on the Aldington Manor Farm, and when later I bought an adjoining farm of seventy acres with orcharding, and had planted nine acres of plum trees, my total fruit area amounted to about thirty acres. There was a saying in the neighbourhood which pleased me greatly, that "it was always harvest at Aldington"; it was not so much intended to signify that there was always something coming in, as to convey an impression of the constant activity and employment of labour that continued throughout the seasons without intermission, though it was true that with the diversity of my crops and stock, there was a more or less continuous return. I had a shock when an old friend in a neighbouring village spoke of me as a "pomologist," the t.i.tle seemed much too distinguished, and personally I have never claimed the right to anything better than the rather pretty old t.i.tle of "orchardist."

The position of an orchard is of the utmost importance; shelter is necessary, but it must be above the ordinary spring frost level of the district. I should say that no orchard should be less than 150 feet above sea-level, to be fairly safe, and 200 feet would in nearly any ordinary spring be quite secure against frost. The climate has a remarkable effect upon the colour of apples, and colour is one of the most valuable of market properties, for the ordinary town buyer is a poor judge of the merits of apples and prefers colour and size to most other considerations. Here in the south of England seven miles from the sea, in a dry and sunny climate, all apples develop a much more brilliant colour than in the moist climate of the Vale of Evesham.

I fear that very few planters of fruit trees think of following the routine which Virgil describes in his second _Georgic_, as practised by the careful orchardist, when transplanting. Dryden's translation is as follows:

"Some peasants, not t' omit the nicest care, Of the same soil their nursery prepare With that of their plantation; lest the tree, Translated should not with the soil agree.

Beside, to plant it as it was, they mark The heav'ns four quarters on the tender bark, And to the north or south restore the side, Which at their birth did heat or cold abide: So strong is custom; such effects can use In tender souls of pliant plants produce."

Virgil was born in the year 70 B.C., and died, age 51, in 19 B.C., so that over nineteen centuries have elapsed since these words were written; as he was an excellent farmer, he would not have mentioned the practice unless he considered the advice sound. It is quite possible that the vertical cracking of the bark on one side of a young transplanted tree may be due to a change from the cool north aspect to the heat of the south. At any rate the experiment is well worth trying, and nurserymen would not find it much trouble to run a chalk line down the south side of each tree, when lifting them, as a guide for the purchaser.

As showing how conservative is the popular demand for apples, c.o.x's Orange Pippin, which is absolutely unapproached for flavour, and is perfectly sound and eatable from early in November till Easter if carefully picked at the right moment and properly stored, was cultivated thirty or forty years before the British public discovered its extraordinary qualities! I find it described as one of the best dessert apples in Dr. Hogg's _Fruit Manual_, and my copy is the third edition published in 1866, so it must have been well known to him some years previously, though we never heard much about it until after the twentieth century came in. Though the colour, when well grown, is highly attractive to the connoisseur, the ordinary buyer did not readily take to it as it is rather small. In 1917 c.o.x's Orange Pippin, however, really came into its own; I myself, here in the New Forest, grew over 3,000 pounds on about 120 trees planted in 1906, each branch pruned as a _cordon_, and very thinly dispersed, and the trees restricted to a height of about 14 feet. The apples were mostly sold in Covent Garden at 6d. a pound, clear of railway carriage and salesmen's commission. In 1918, a year of great scarcity, these apples were selling in the London shops up to 3s. 6d. apiece! Now that its reputation is fully established, it is likely to be many years before it becomes relatively low in price, as the foreign apples of this kind cannot compare in flavour with those grown in our own orchards. I appreciate the man whose attention was wholly given to some particularly dainty dish, and, being bored at the table by a persistent talker, gently said, "Hus.h.!.+ and let me _listen_ to the flavour."

As an early market apple there is none more popular than the Worcester Pearmain, first grown in the early eighties by Messrs. R. Smith and Co., of Worcester, and said to be a cross between King of the Pippins and the old Quarrenden (nearly always called Quarantine). It is a most attractive fruit--brilliant in colour, medium size, with pleasant brisk flavour--and is an early and regular bearer. I recognized its possibilities as soon as I saw it, and getting all the grafts I could collect, and they were very scarce at the time, I had the branches of some of my old worthless trees cut off, and set my old grafter to convert them into Worcester Pearmains; they soon came into bearing and produced abundant and profitable crops.

This apple is not much use for keeping beyond a month or so, as it soon loses its crisp texture and distinctive flavour, and it is its earliness and colour that makes it so popular in its season. Its regularity as a bearer is due to its early maturity; it can be picked in August, which allows plenty of time, in favourable weather, for next year's fruit buds to develop before winter; whereas with the late sorts these buds have very little chance to mature while the current year's fruit is ripening, with the result that a blank season nearly always follows an abundant yield. The Worcester Pearmain is so highly decorative, with its large pale pink and white blossoms in spring and its glowing red fruit in autumn, that it would be worth growing for these qualities alone in the amateur's garden, and in any case it is an apple that n.o.body should be without.

An old apple, not sufficiently known, is the Rosemary Russet; it has the distinctive russet-bronze colouring, always indicative of flavour, with a rosy flush on the sunny side, and Dr. Hogg describes it further as, "flesh yellow, crisp, tender, very juicy, sugary and highly aromatic--a first-rate dessert apple, in use from December to February." In my opinion it comes next, though _longo intervallo_, to c.o.x's Orange Pippin, but it wants good land to make the best of it. It may with confidence be produced as a rarity across the walnuts and the wine to the connossieur in apples.

In Covent Garden Market King Pippins are known as "Kings"; c.o.x's Orange Pippins as "C.O.P.'s"; Cellinis as "Selinas"; Kerry pippins as "Careys"; _Court pendu plat_ as "Corpendus"; and the pear, _Josephine de Malines_ as "Joseph on the palings"! The Wellington is sold as "Wellington," but in the markets of the large northern towns it is known as "Normanton Wonder."

In Worcesters.h.i.+re St. Swithin's Day, July 15, is called "apple-christening day," when a good rain often gives a great impetus to their growth, and a little later great quant.i.ties of small apples may be seen under the trees; this is Nature's method of limiting the crop to reasonable proportions, the weak ones falling off and the fittest surviving. The inexperienced grower may be somewhat alarmed by this apparent destruction of his prospects, but the older hand knows better, and my bailiff always said: "When I sees plenty of apples under the trees about midsummer, I knows there'll be plenty to pick towards Michaelmas."

The Blenheim Orange was the leading apple at Aldington; some kind person had, sixty or seventy years before my time, planted a number of trees which had thrived wonderfully on that rich land. The Blenheim is a nice dessert apple and a splendid "cooker"; the trees take many years to come into bearing, and then they make up for lost time.

Nature is never in a hurry to produce her best results. As a market apple the Blenheim has a great reputation; if an Evesham fruit dealer was asked if he could do with any apples, his first question was always: "Be 'em Blemmins?"

"September blow soft till the fruit's in the loft," is the prayer of all apple growers; it is pitiful to see, after a roaring gale, the ground strewn with beautiful fruit, bruised and broken, useless to keep, and only suitable for carting away to the all-devouring cider-mill, though, even for that purpose, the sweet Blenheim does not produce nearly so good a drink as sourer accredited cider varieties.

Many of the gardening papers will name apples if sent by readers for identification; I was told of an enquirer who sent twelve apples from the same tree, and received eleven different names and one "unknown"!

Apples off the same tree do differ wonderfully, but I can scarcely credit this story.

It was the custom formerly at Aldington to sell the fruit on the trees by auction for the buyer to pick and market, growers as a rule being too busy with corn-harvest to attend to the gathering. A considerable sum was thereby often sacrificed, as the buyer allows an ample margin for risks, and is not willing to give more than about half of what he expects to receive ultimately. I discontinued the auction sales early in my farming, preferring to take the risks myself, and having plenty of labour available. It is instructive too to know how individual trees are bearing, and the sorts which produce the best returns.

Except for the choicest fruit, I consider London the worst market, and I could do better, as a rule, by sending my consignments to Manchester, Liverpool, Sheffield, and Glasgow; the latter especially for large coa.r.s.e stuff. London is more critical, pays well for the very best, but requires apples to be carefully graded, and the grades separately packed; London is, moreover, naturally well supplied by the southern counties.

At the auctions the compet.i.tion was generally keen, there being much rivalry between the buyers; and it was good for the sellers when political parties were opposed to each other, for in those days Evesham was inclined to be rather violent in such matters. I remember a lively contest between Conservatives and Radicals, when my largest orchard--about six acres--was sold to the champion of the former for 210, and the Radical exclaimed, as the lot was knocked down, for everybody to hear: "He offered me 10 before the sale to stand out, now that 10 is in Mr. S.'s pocket!"

A few strong gales in the winter are supposed to benefit apple-trees, acting as a kind of root pruning; but sometimes, when they are getting old, they come down bodily with a crash, partly uprooted, though even then they may be resuscitated for a time. We had a powerful set of pulley tackle by which, when made fast to a neighbouring tree, they could be restored to the perpendicular, after enlarging the hole left by the roots, making the ground firm again round the tree, and placing a strong sloping prop to take the weight on the weak side; good yields would then often continue for some years.

When the pickers had gathered the crop, by an ancient custom all the village children were allowed to invade the orchards for the purpose of getting for themselves any apples overlooked. This practice is called "scragging," but it is a custom that would perhaps be better honoured in the breach than in the observance, for hob nails do not agree with the tender bark of young trees. Like gleaning, or "leasing," as it is called, it is nevertheless a pleasant old custom, and seems to give the children huge delight.

Mistletoe did not find my apple-trees congenial, there was only one piece on all my fruit land, and it was regarded as something of a curiosity. But in other parts of the neighbourhood it flourished abundantly, though I noticed that it was most frequent where the land was poorer and the trees not so luxuriant. It was also to be seen on tall black poplars, and I have a piece--planted purposely--on a hawthorn in my garden here. It grows in parts of the Forest, especially on the white-beams in Sloden, in curiously small detached pieces like lichen. The white-beam was a favourite tree of the Romans for the wood-work of agricultural implements, being tough and strong.

Mistletoe is quite easy to propagate by rubbing the glutinous berries and their seeds on the under side of a small branch at the angle where it joins a limb. There it will often flourish unless snapped up by a wandering missel-thrush. It is very slow in growth, but, when it attains a fair size, is strikingly pretty in winter when the tree is otherwise bare, for its peculiar shade of faded green, with its white and glistening berries, makes an unusual effect--quite different from that of any other green thing. It is rare on the oak, and, possibly for that reason, the Druids regarded the oak upon which it grew as sacred.

The transition from apples to cider is a natural one, and cider is a great inst.i.tution in Worcesters.h.i.+re. On all the larger farms, and in every village, an ancient cider-mill can be found. It consists of a circular block of masonry, perhaps ten feet in diameter, the outer circ.u.mference of which is a continuous stone trough, about 18 inches across, and 15 inches deep, called "the chase," in which a huge grindstone, weighing about 15 cwt., revolves slowly, actuated by a horse walking round the chase in an unending circle. The apples are introduced in small quant.i.ties into the chase, and crushed into pulp by the grindstone. The pulp is then removed and placed between hair cloths, piled upon each other, until a stack is erected beneath a powerful press, worked by a lever, on the principle of a capstan. As the pressure increases, the liquor runs into a vessel below, from whence it is carried in buckets, and poured into barrels in the cellar. Fermentation begins almost immediately, by which the sugar is converted in carbonic acid gas and alcohol; the gas escapes and the spirit remains in the liquor.

Such is the simplest method of cider-making, and it produces a drink thoroughly appreciated by the men, for we made annually 1,500 to 2,000 gallons, and there was very little left when next year's cider-making began. Where cider is made for sale, much greater care is necessary; only the soundest fruit is used, and the vinous fermentation is allowed to begin in open vessels before the pulp is pressed. When the extracted liquor is placed in the barrels every effort is made to prevent the acetic fermentation, which produces vinegar, and spoils the cider for discriminating palates. The stone mill has been superseded to some extent by the steam "scratter"; but the cider is not considered so good, as the kernels are left uncrushed, an important omission, as they add largely to the flavour of the finished product. After a hot dry summer, cider is unusually strong, because the sugar in the apples is much more fully developed. It is recognized that these hot summers produce what are known as vintage years for cider, just as, on the Continent, they produce vintage wines.

Jarge, of whom I have written, was the presiding genius in the cider-mill, and his duties began as soon as hop-picking was over. All traces of the downward inclination of the corners of his mouth, caused by the delinquencies of recalcitrant hoppers, quite disappeared as soon as his new duties commenced, and it was a pleasure to see his jovial face beaming over a job which seemed to have no drawbacks. A really Baccha.n.a.lian presence is the only one that should be tolerated in a cider-maker; the lean and hungry character is quite out of place amidst the fragrance of the crushed apples, and the generous liquor running from the press.

The cider-maker is always allowed a liberal quant.i.ty of last year's produce, on the principle of "thou shalt not muzzle the ox when he treadeth out the corn"--a principle that should always be recognized in the labourer's hire, and one which is too often forgotten by the public in its estimate of the necessities of the farmer himself. It is usual for the man in possession, so to speak, of the cider-mill, to mix, for his own consumption, some of the new unfermented liquor with the old cider, which, after twelve months, is apt to be excessively sour; but the quant.i.ty of the former must not be in too large a proportion, as it has a powerful medicinal effect.

"Wouldst thou thy vats with generous juice should froth?

Respect thy orchats: think not that the trees Spontaneous will produce a wholesome draught, Let art correct thy breed."

So sang Philips in his _Cyder_ in the distant days of 1706, but the advice is as sound as ever, for good cider can only be produced from the right kinds of apples. The names of new sorts are legion, but some of the old varieties are still considered to be very valuable. Among these, the Foxwhelp has been a favourite for 200 years, and others in great esteem are Skyrme's Kernal, Forest Styre, Hagloe Crab, Dymock Red, Bromley, Cowarne Red, and Styre Wilding. It requires about twenty "pots" (a local measure each weighing 64 pounds) to make a hogshead of cider; a hogshead is roughly 100 gallons, and in Worcesters.h.i.+re is hardly recognizable under the name of "oxsheard"--I have never seen the word in print, but the local p.r.o.nunciation is faithfully represented by my spelling. Another local appellation which puzzled me for some years was "crab varges," which I eventually discovered to mean "verjuice," a terribly sour liquid, made in the same way as cider from crab apples. It was considered a wonderfully stimulating specific for sprains and strains, holding the same pre-eminent position as an embrocation, as did "goose-grace" (goose-grease) as an ointment or emollient. This substance is the melted fat of a goose, and was said to be so powerful that, if applied to the back of the hand, it could shortly be recognized on the palm!

The value of alcohol as a food is generally denied in these days by sedentary people, but very few who have seen its judicious use in agricultural work will be inclined to agree; it is possible that though it may be a carbo-hydrate very quickly consumed in the body, it acts as an aid to digestion, and produces more nourishment from a given quant.i.ty of food, than would be a.s.similated in its absence. The giving out of the men's allowances is, however, a troublesome matter and demands a firm and masterful bailiff or foreman, for "much" is inclined to want "more," and the line should, of course, be drawn far short of excess. It was related of an old lady farmer in the neighbourhood, who always distributed her men's cider with her own hands, that in her anxiety to be on the safe side after a season when the cider was unusually strong, she mixed a proportion of water with the beverage, before the arrival of the recipients. One of the men, however, having discovered the dilution, arrived after the first day with two jars. Asked the reason for the second jar, he answered that he should prefer to have his cider and the water _separate_.

My bailiff always said that sixpennyworth of cider would do more work than a s.h.i.+lling in cash. He was undoubtedly correct, and, moreover, the quant.i.ty worth sixpence in the farm cider store would cost a s.h.i.+lling or more at the public-house, to supply an equivalent in alcohol, and valuable time would be lost in fetching it. It is the alcohol that commends it to the agricultural labourer more than any consideration of thirst, and no one can see its effect without the conviction that the men find it not only stimulating, but supporting.

A friend of mine, however, found so much satisfaction in a deep draught of cider when he felt really "dry," that he said he would give "a crown" any day for a "good thirst!"

Excess in drink was rare at Aldington, and it was very exceptional for a man to be seen in what were called his "crooked stockings."

Fortunately, we had no public-house in the village, and if the men had a moderate allowance during a hard day's work, there was not much temptation to tramp a mile and back at night to the nearest licensed premises in order to sit and swill in the tap-room. I had one man who lived near a place of the sort, and he occasionally took what my bailiff called, "Saints' days," and did not appear for work. I notice that this sort of day is now called by the more suitable name of "alcoholiday."

Well-fermented cider contains from 5 to 10 gallons of alcohol, and perry about 7 gallons, to every 100 gallons of the liquor, which compares with claret 13 to 17, sherry 15 to 20, and port 24 to 26 per cent, of alcohol. I found the truth of the proverb _in vino veritas_; after a quite small allowance of cider on the farm the open-hearted man would become lively, the reserved man taciturn, the crabbed man argumentative; but the work went with a will and a spirit that were not so noticeable when no "tots" were going round.

An old gentleman in the neighbourhood used to tell with much enjoyment the following story of his younger days. "I found myself," he said, "gradually increasing my allowance of whisky and water, as I sat alone of an evening, and I said to myself: 'Now look here, H.W., you began with one gla.s.s, very soon you got on to two, and now you're taking three. I'll tell you what it is, H.W., you shan't have another drop of whisky for a month';" "and," he added, "H.W. did it, too!"

Shortly before I came to Aldington the men were suddenly seized with what seemed an unaccountable epidemic; their symptoms were all similar, and a doctor soon diagnosed the complaint as lead-poisoning.

n.o.body could suggest its origin until the cider was suspected, and, on enquiry, it was elicited that the previous year the stones of the cider-mill chase, which had become loosened by long use, were repaired with melted lead poured in between the joints. The malic acid of the apples had dissolved the lead, and it remained in solution in the cider. To the disgust of the men, the doctor advised removing the bungs from the barrels and letting the cider run off into the drains, but n.o.body had the heart to comply, for there was the whole year's stock, and it meant a wait of twelve months before it could be replaced. After some months the men got impatient, and told the master they were prepared to take the risk. They began with great caution, and finding no bad result, they gradually increased the dose, still without harm, until the normal allowance was safely reached. It is probable that the barrel which caused the symptoms was the first made after the repairs, and contained an extra quant.i.ty of the lead, and although the remainder was more or less contaminated, the poison was in such small amount as to be harmless.

There were many old apple-trees about the hedges and in odd corners, which went by the name of "the roundabouts," and the fruit was annually collected and brought to the cider-mill. Some of these were immense trees, and not very desirable round arable land, owing to their shade, but they were lovely when in bloom, for standing separately, they seemed to develop richer colours than when close together in an orchard.

The story of Shakespeare's carouse, and his night pa.s.sed under a crab-tree near Bidford, about six miles from Aldington, is well known.

It is stated, but not without contradiction, that he excused himself by explaining that he had been drinking with:

Piping Pebworth, dancing Marston, Haunted Hillborough, hungry Grafton, Dudging Exhall, papist Wixford, Beggarly Broom, and drunken Bidford.

A carousal at all these places would have been a heavy day's work, and I have often thought that if the lines can really be attributed to him, he might have meant that he had met people from all the villages at one of the Whitsuntide merry-makings annually held in the neighbourhood, and pa.s.sed a jovial time in their company.

Perry is made in much the same way as cider, and when due care has been taken in its manufacture, it is a most delicious and wholesome drink. When bottled and kept to mature it pours out with a beautiful creaming head, and is far superior to ordinary champagne. Both cider and perry should be drunk out of a china or earthenware mug, whence they taste much richer than from gla.s.s; but my men always used in the field a small horn cup or "tot," holding about quarter of a pint. I have a very interesting old cider cup, of Fulham or Lambeth earthenware I think, holding about a quart, with three handles, each of which is a greyhound with body bent to form the loop for the hand.

It was intended for the use of three persons sitting together at a small three-cornered oak table, specimens of which are still, though rarely, met with at furniture sales in farm-houses or cottages; the cup was placed in the middle, and each person could take a pull by using his particular handle with the adjacent place for his lips, without pa.s.sing the cup round or using the same drinking s.p.a.ce as another.

There are numerous kinds of perry pears, but certain sorts have a great reputation, such as Moorcroft, Barland, Malvern Hills, Longdon, Red Horse, Mother Huff Cap, and Chate Boy (cheat boy), a particularly astringent pear; these are all small, and require quickly grinding when gathered. In the New Forest there is a perry pear similar to the Chate Boy, called Choke Dog, which in its natural state, is quite as rough on the palate as the former, but it differs in colour and is not the same sort. I had a splendid specimen of the Chate Boy pear-tree at an outlying set of buildings, said to be the father of all the trees of that kind in the neighbourhood, and it was a landmark for miles, as it stood on high ground. It was fitted with a ladder reaching to the middle of the tree, where seats were arranged on a platform for eight or nine people; but it was unfortunately blown down on the night of the great gale of October 14, 1877, when twelve other trees on the farm were likewise overthrown.

Cider and perry drinkers were said to be more or less immune from many human ailments, including rheumatic affections, though one would expect the acetic acid they contain, unless very carefully made, would have an opposite effect. Certainly my men suffered neither from gout nor rheumatism, and there was a tradition that in 1832, when the cholera was rife in the country, the plague was stayed as soon as the cider districts were approached.