Were I asked to describe the location of the fabled fountain of Hygeia, I should decide that it was certainly situated in an orchard; it must have come bubbling from earth that sustained the roots of tree and vine; it must have been shaded by the umbrageous branches of the wide-spreading apple and pear, and it was doubtless approached by alleys that were lined by peach trees laden with their downy fruit, and over-arched by vines bearing rich clusters of the luscious grape, and they were garnished at their sides by the crimson strawberry. Such at least would have been an appropriate setting for so valued a jewel as the fountain of health, and it is certain that the pursuit of fruit-growing is itself conducive to the possession of that priceless blessing. The physical as well as the moral qualities of our nature are wonderfully promoted by these cares. The vigorous exercise they afford us in the open air, the pleasant excitement, the expectation of the results of the first fruits of our plants, tending, training and cultivating them the while, are all so many elements conducive to the highest enjoyment of full health.
The very character of the food furnished by our orchards should be taken into the account, in making up our estimate of their contributions to the health of a community. From them we procure aliment of the most refined character, and it has been urged that the elements of which they are composed are perfected or refined to the highest degree of organization that is possible to occur in vegetable tissues. Such pabulum is not only gratefully refreshing, but it is satisfying—without being gross, it is nutritious. The antiscorbutic effects of ripe fruits, especially those that are acid, are proverbial, and every fever patient has appreciated the relief derived from those that are acidulous. Then as a preventive of the febrile affections peculiar to a miasmatic region, the free use of acid fruits, or even of good sound vinegar made from grapes or apples, is an established fact in medical practice—of which, by the by, prevention is always the better part.
Apples were esteemed an important and valuable article of food in the days of the Romans, for all school boys have read in the ore rotundo of his own flowing measures, what Virgil has said, so much better than his tame translator:
"New cheese and chestnuts are our country fare,
With mellow apples for your welcome cheer."
But in more modern times, beside their wonted use as dessert fruit, or evening feast, or cooked in various modes, a French economist "has invented and practiced with great success a method of making bread with common apples, which is said to be very far superior to potato-bread. After having boiled one-third part of peeled apples, he bruised them while quite warm into two-thirds parts of flour, including the proper quantity of yeast, and kneaded the whole without water, the juice of the fruit being quite sufficient; he put the mass into a vessel in which he allowed it to rise for about twelve hours. By this process he obtained a very excellent bread, full of eyes, and extremely light and palatable."1
Nor is this class of food desirable for man alone. Fruits of all kinds, but particularly what may be called the large fruits, such as are grown in our orchards, may be profitably cultivated for feeding our domestic animals. Sweet apples have been especially recommended for fattening swine, and when fed to cows they increase the flow of milk, or produce fat according to the condition of these animals. Think of the luxury of eating apple-fed pork! Why, even the strict Rabbi might overcome his prejudices against such swine flesh! And then dream of enjoying the luxury of fresh rich milk, yellow cream, and golden butter, from your winter dairy, instead of the sky-blue fluid, and the pallid, or an anotto-tinted, but insipid butter, resulting from the meager supplies of nutriment contained in dry hay and fibrous, woody cornstalks. Now this is not unreasonable nor ridiculous. Orchards have been planted with a succession of sweet apples that will sustain swine in a state of most perfect health, growing and fattening simultaneously from June to November; and the later varieties may be cheaply preserved for feeding stock of all kinds during the winter, when they will be best prepared by steaming, and may be fed with the greatest advantage. Our farmers do not appreciate the benefits of having green food for their animals during the winter season. Being blessed with that royal grain, the Indian corn, they do not realize the importance of the provision of roots which is so great a feature in British husbandry; but they have yet to learn, and they will learn, that for us, and under our conditions of labor and climate, they can do still better, and produce still greater results with a combination of hay or straw, corn meal and apples, all properly prepared by means of steam or hot water. Besides, such orchards may be advantageously planted in many places where the soil is not adapted to the production of grain.—The reader is referred to the chapter on select lists in another part of this volume, in which an attempt will be made to present the reader with the opinions of the best pomologists of various parts of the country.
It were an interesting and not unprofitable study to trace the various sources and routes by which fruits have been introduced into different parts of our extended country. In some cases we should find that we were indebted for these luxuries to the efforts of very humble individuals, while in other regions the high character of the orchards is owing to the forethought, knowledge, enterprise, and liberality of some prominent citizen of the infant community, who has freely spent his means and bestowed his cares in providing for others as well as for his own necessities or pleasures. But it is to the intelligent nurserymen of our country that we are especially indebted for the universal diffusion of fruits, and for the selection of the best varieties in each different section. While acting separately, these men were laboring under great disadvantages, and frequently cultivated certain varieties under a diversity of names, as they had received them from various sources. This was a difficulty incident to their isolation, but the organization of Pomological Societies in various parts of the country, has enabled them in a great measure to unravel the confusion of an extended synonymy, and also by comparison and consultation with the most intelligent fruit-growers, they have been prepared to advise the planter as to the best and most profitable varieties to be set out in different soils and situations.
Most of our first orchards were planted with imported trees. The colonists brought plants and seeds. Even now, in many parts of the country, we hear many good fruits designated as English, to indicate that they are considered superior to the native; and we are still importing choice varieties from Europe and other quarters of the globe.
The roving tribes of Indians who inhabited this country when discovered and settled by the whites, had no orchards—they lived by the chase, and only gathered such fruits as were native to the soil. Among the earliest attempts to civilize them, however, those that exerted the greatest influence, were efforts to make them an agricultural people, and of these the planting of fruit-trees was one of the most successful. In many parts of the country we find relics of these old Indian orchards still remaining, and it is probable that from the apple seeds sent by the general government for distribution among the Cherokees in Georgia, we are now reaping some of the most valuable fruits of this species. The early French settlers were famous tree-planters, and we find their traces across the continent, from the St. Lawrence to the Gulf of Mexico. These consist in noble pear and apple trees, grown from seeds planted by them, at their early and scattered posts or settlements. These were made far in advance of the pioneers, who have, at a later period, formed the van of civilization, that soon spread into a solid phalanx in its march throughout the great interior valley of the continent.
On the borders of civilization we sometimes meet with a singular being, more savage than polished, and yet useful in his way.