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GA RDENERS* MA GAZINE. 



January 22, 1898. 



Leaves from a Ramblers Note-book. 



THROUGH ORCHARDS AND BRICKFIELDS. 



RATHER a strange combination perhaps you'll say, and so it may be, though 

 interesting by contrast. Fruit growing and brick making are not occu- 

 pations that one would naturally class together, but anyone travelling in 

 that part of Kent extending from Chatham to Faversham could hardly 

 take notice of one without being struck by the extent of the other, no 

 matter whether seen out of the eyes of a gardener or a builder. Those 

 whose occupation is connected with bricks and mortar know the district 

 well, and are acquainted with the excellence of the clay for the manufac- 

 ture of building material ; therefore it is the great kilns, the somewhat 

 choking atmosphere that arises from them, the huge mountains of bricks 

 of varying quality, and the all-important question of prices that claim the 

 attention of the builder. The gardener and he who is interested in fruit 



culture sees matters from his own point of view. Bricks are nothing to 

 him, and his interest lies in the orchards. To some extent they are 

 inseparable, however, and one follows the other in quick rotation. First 

 comes the brick-maker with his smoky kilns, his plant for clay grinding, 

 and all the rest of it. He takes sole possession of a tract of land, and in 

 course of time the top crust, of a thickness varying from six feet, 

 disappears, goes through the process of grinding, moulding, and baking, 

 and then plays its part in extending the arms of the great metropolis 

 further and further into the country. Under ordinary circumstances a 

 disused brickfield becomes a desolate region where rank grass only grows 

 and pit-holes stand full of putrid water. The old kiln falls down a little 

 at a time, and decay is plainly written on the whole surroundings. It is 

 not so in East Kent, for no sooner has the brick-maker taken all that is 

 of any good to him, when along comes the fruit farmer to reap his share — 

 and often a golden one, for some of the most valuable orchards and 

 plantations in the country occupy sites that once were brickfields. 



This speaks volumes for the fertility of the soil in this part of Kent, 

 and its adaptability for fruit growing. Go anywhere else you like, north, 

 east, south, or west, and find land that will first make bricks and then 

 grow fruit. I don't think you'll succeed ; and mind you, I don't mean 

 fruit of the common order, small in size and of inferior quality, but first- 

 class specimens — Pitmaston Duchess pears, averaging over a pound 

 each ; Cox's Orange Pippin apples, that fetch the highest price in the 

 market ; cherries that are the cream of British production, and find their 

 way into every town of any size in the land ; not to say anything of the 

 plums and small berried fruits, such as gooseberries, currants, and rasp- 

 berries. Not all grown on disused brickfields, of course, as the land 

 everywhere grows fruit, and grows it well ; but so close does the planter 

 follow in the wake of the brickmaker, that almost before the latter has 

 removed his stock-in-trade, the plough or steam cultivator is at work. 

 And is this in our poor old worn-out England, you ask, when at the end 

 of the nineteenth century, and the cry that land cultivation is played out 

 is for ever booming in our ears, we still have land that will make bricks 

 and then grow fruit ? The answer is in the affirmative, but not without 

 an effort on the part of the cultivator in preparing the land, 

 growing the trees on the most approved principles, and above all, 

 feeding them. " Manure ! that's the secret," said a successful grower, 



44 and plenty of it ; not always stable manure, though you need not be 

 afraid of using that, but now and then a change in the way of a good 

 stimulant of chemical manure." One is apt to get depressed in these 

 days, and the story of " Wasted Orchards," so graphically depicted in 

 these columns, told us of the ground we are losing, and the improvements 

 that must be made to regain it. Fortunately there is a rosy as well as a 

 seamy side ; and one begins to think that "things are not altogether what 

 they seem," when a farmer who grows some two hundred acres of fruit 

 comes forth and says the last was the best season he has ever had. 



Such was the statement voluntarily made ; and I confess to looking in 

 astonishment at a man — a farmer and cultivator of land for many years, 

 in the midst of this never-ceasing cry of agricultural depression — sitting 

 by my side, and calmly asserting that the season of 1897 was the best he 

 had ever had. 



I've got some poor land, of course," he said, " that pays but very little ; 

 but the other makes up for it, and some of my best plantations have 

 been brick fields. Pears, apples, cherries, currants, gooseberries, and 

 strawberries have all done well," he added ; " and as to prices, well, the 

 worst apples I've got, which in former seasons I've been content to sell in 

 the neighbourhood for what they would fetch, have all gone to London, 

 and the prices I obtained paid well for sending them." 



I know something of the grower and something of the farmer, as 

 well as something of the business methods adopted to carry on the whole 

 concern, and conclude that this must have a great deal to do with the 

 success. 



" I think farming is looking up," was his opinion, " and we are getting 

 back to something like the old prices. Corn has gone up, potatos are 

 selling well ; and as for fruit, well, I'm getting seventeen shillings a 

 bushel for Cox's (Orange Pippin apple was meant), and I wish I'd got 

 tons of 'em." 



Seventeen shillings a bushel for apples is by no means a price to be 

 despised, and even at a much lower rate, with an average crop, there is 

 something to pay the rent. It is the best that commands the highest 

 price, and whereas the king of dessert apples will always find a ready 

 market at a remunerative price, there are numerous other sorts still grown 

 and will hardly pay expenses. Still, some growers stick tenaciously to 



them, but why it is difficult to imagine. The fruit mentioned was sold in 

 the open market, and that was the price handed to the producer. I 

 almost dread to ask what the price would be when they reached the con- 

 sumer, after the middlemen had taken their share. 



"Did cherries do well last year?" I asked. "If you had any, 

 yes," was the reply. " I was fortunate, and I daresay you won't think 

 that a hundred pounds an acre is a bad return. But everybody wasn't 

 so well off, as the hailstorms in the early part of the season played such 

 havoc and ruined a good many of the crops. Prices for standing orchards 

 ran very high, and just to give an idea of the value of the fruit an 

 orchard of cherries— old trees some of them, really past their best — was 

 sold freehold. It was five acres in extent, and fetched twelve hundred 

 and fifty pounds. It will have to return something to pay an interest on 



that. Eh ? " 



Two hundred and fifty pounds an acre for land planted with cherries ! 

 And this, mind you, occurs when everybody is talking of bad times and 

 when some go so far as to say that fruit growing is overdone. At this 

 rate there still appears to be something in the shape of a Klondyke even 

 in the old country. My informant went on to say that if the land in 

 question was worth two hundred and fifty pounds an acre, he knew of 

 other orchards worth double that amount, where the trees are younger 

 and just at their best. 



"And how does cormgrowing compare with that ?" I inquired. 



" Not in it with good fruit. At any rate, that's my experience, and 

 I've just planted another ten acres of cherries and the same with apples 

 and small fruits. Black currants did splendidly last year, though 

 in some places they were scarce. Fourteen shilling a half isn't bad ; at 

 any rate, I'm satisfied. And as for gooseberries, I found Lads (Lancashire 

 Lads) did the best with me. I'm planting a lot more of 'em." Here it was 

 suggested that perhaps, if planting continued so rapidly, the thing might 

 be overdone. 



" Never," was the emphatic answer ; " there's always a demand for 

 go' d fruit, because every year there is more consumed." In the remark 

 there was a ring of confidence that told the man knew what he was 

 talking about. 



That the industry is developing is evident when one realizes that in 

 this land of bricks and fruit, private growers have amalgamated and 

 formed limited liability companies, with capital running into the 

 thousands. Special trains carry their burdens of fruit in season, not 

 only to the near metropolis, but right through its limits and on into 

 the smoky manufacturing districts of Lancashire and Yorkshire ; and 

 not even content with that, fruit that yesterday was ripening in Kentish 

 fields and orchards, is to-day across the border and being dealt out to 

 the dwellers of Glasgow and other Scottish towns. The growers speak 

 of their gooseberries as "Lads" and "Bobs," their cherries also bearing 

 familiar abbreviated names, and their apples are known as " Suffields," 

 c * Warners," "Kings," and "Cox's." The orchards and plantations are 

 pretty sights, either in fruit or blossom; but to the ordinary observer, 

 the sulphury smell, or the dusty smoke from the brick-kilns detract 

 largely from the beautiful, and it is hardly the place one would recom- 

 mend for scenery. Close to the water, the tides in the creeks rise high 

 and fall low, leaving murky-looking pools and ugly mud-banks, and up 

 these channels comes the returns from the metropolis, in the shape of 

 manure laden in barges. London manure has nothing of the wholesome 

 stability about it that characterises that fresh from the farmyard ; but the 

 soil is naturally good, and it does its work, especially when assisted 

 by other stimulants, among the hops, the fruit, and potatos. 



"Sold my potatos to-day," said one grower, in the midst of conversa- 

 tion ; " Up-to-Dates ; thirty-four pounds an acre. Not bad, that ? " 



No, not at all bad ; and what say those pessimists who assert that there 

 is not a ray of hope left for English cultivators ? It also speaks volumes 

 for the heavy cropping propensities and general excellence of the variety 

 which, as it becomes more widely known, is increasing in popularity. Up- 

 to-Uate it surely is, in more ways than one, as thirty-four pounds an acre 

 is something new, and to the grower sounds something like old times in 

 the golden days of farming ; and moreover, it seems to suggest that after 

 all there are hopes that the time-honoured occupation is looking-up. 



It is urged that farmers generally are slow to grasp new ideas and 

 abandon old methods, but the same cannot be urged against the East 

 Kent fruit grower. You find him a shrewd, clear-headed man of busi- 

 ness, ever ready to pick up a wrinkle if it can be turned to profit. He 

 has to be very much alive, too, in order to arrange his labour at fruiting 

 time, and keep disposing of his supplies. Any delay when perishable 

 fruit is about is disastrous ; and one man informed me that at Jubilee 

 time, when everybody was holiday-making, his strawberries were spoiling 

 for the want of gathering, and in order to get pickers he had to pay 

 them as much as ten shillings per day. Another grower thought he saw 

 something in large early culinary apples, and so planted Lord Suffield, 

 Warner's King, and several others, on a large scale. Some people 

 thought hops would be better, and others were in favour of the time- 

 honoured corn ; but our friend said little, and in the meantime his sturdy 

 bushes on the Paradise stock grew quickly into bearing, and, to use his 



own words, they are now doing him good. He also goes in for pears, 



and on the old brickfields grows fruit worth going a long way to 

 The ordinary tourist who loves romantic scenery or historic associations 

 can better satisfy his desires in other directions ; but anyone who is in- 

 terested in fruit would find much that would engross as well as instruct 

 just out of the sound of the hammering at Chatham dockyards, and 

 within healing of the gunnery at Sheerness, even though in the midst 



of the fruit he is being constantly reminded of the presence of bricks. 



H. 



