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in the form of a horse-shoe round the
Bristol Channel; and the best are, Worcester and Hereford, on the north
of the channel, and Somerset and Devon on the south. In appearance,
they have a considerable advantage over those counties in which grain
alone is cultivated. The blossoms cover an extensive district with a
profusion of flowers in the spring, and the fruit is beautiful in autumn.
Some of the orchards occupy a space of forty or fifty acres; and the
trees being at considerable intervals, the land is also kept in tillage. A

great deal of practical acquaintance with the qualities of soil is required
in the culture of apple and pear trees; and his skill in the adaptation of
trees to their situation principally determines the success of the
manufacturer of cider and perry. The produce of the orchards is very
fluctuating; and the growers seldom expect an abundant crop more than
once in three years. The quantity of apples required to make a hogshead
of cider is from twenty-four to thirty bushels; and in a good year an
acre of orchard will produce somewhere about six hundred bushels, or
from twenty to twenty-five hogsheads. The cider harvest is in
September. When the season is favourable, the heaps of apples
collected at the presses are immense--consisting of hundreds of tons. If
any of the vessels used in the manufacture of cider are of lead, the
beverage is not wholesome. The price of a hogshead of cider generally
varies from 2l. to 5l., according to the season and quality; but cider of
the finest growth has sometimes been sold as high as 20l. by the
hogshead, direct from the press--a price equal to that of many of the
fine wines of the Rhine or the Garonne."
* * * * *
_OLD APPLE TREES._
"At Horton, in Buckinghamshire, where Milton spent some of his
earlier years, there is an apple tree still growing, of which the oldest
people remember to have heard it said that the poet was accustomed to
sit under it. And upon the low leads of the church at Romsey, in
Hampshire, there is an apple tree still bearing fruit, which is said to be
two hundred years old."
The Fig and the Fine are equally interesting, and in connexion with the
latter we notice the editor's mention of the fine vineyard at Arundel
Castle. Aubrey describes a similar vineyard at Chart Park, near Dorking,
another seat of the Howards. "Here was a vineyard, supposed to have
been planted by the Hon. Charles Howard, who, it is said, erected his
residence, as it were, in the vineyard." Again, "the vineyard flourished
for some time, and tolerably good wine was made from the produce;
but after the death of the noble planter, in 1713, it was much neglected,
and nothing remained but the name. On taking down the house, a stone

resembling a millstone, was found, by which the grapes were
pressed."[5] We were on the spot at the time, and saw the stone in
question. Vines are still very abundant at Dorking, the soil being very
congenial to their growth. "Hence, almost every house in this part has
its vine; and some of the plants are very productive. The cottages of the
labouring poor are not without this ornament, and the produce is
usually sold by them to their wealthier neighbours, for the manufacture
of wine. The price per bushel is from 4s. to 16s.; but the variableness of
the season frequently disappoints them in the crops, the produce of
which is sometimes laid up as a setoff to the rent."[6]
We have heard too of attempts in England to train the vine on the sides
of hills, and a few years since an individual lost a considerable sum of
money in making the experiment in the Isle of Wight.
At page 257, observes the editor,
A VINEYARD "Associated as it is with all our ideas of beauty and
plenty, is, in general, a disappointing object. The hop plantations of our
own country are far more picturesque. In France, the vines are trained
upon poles, seldom more than three or four feet in height; and 'the
pole-clipt vineyard' of poetry is not the most inviting of real objects. In
Spain, poles for supporting vines are not used; but cuttings are planted,
which are not permitted to grow very high, but gradually form thick
and stout stocks. In Switzerland, and in the German provinces, the
vineyards are as formal as those of France. But in Italy is found the true
vine of poetry, 'surrounding the stone cottage with its girdle, flinging its
pliant and luxuriant branches over the rustic veranda, or twining its
long garland from tree to tree.'[7] It was the luxuriance and the beauty
of her vines