The Heirloom Orchardist

Gathering and Packing Fruit (ca. 1836)

It's too easy for us heirloom fruit enthusiasts to speak with distain about contemporary fruit varieties.  "They're bred only to survive the rigours of travel," we'll frequently say.  "There's no respect for flavor."

Well truthfully, there is something to be said for having your fruit survive the rigours of travel.  This was a major concern to the Heirloom Orchardist.  A responsible orchardist didn't want his order of apples to arrive at its destination as a mass of fetid applesauce.  Which, by the way, happened too often.

So, when I come upon an old farmer who really took pride in his packing, I have great repect.  It gives me a new perspective on what it was like to grow and sell fruit during the days of the Heirloom Orchardist. The following comes from The Farmers' Cabinet, and American Herd-book, Volume 11, Nov 16, 1846:

"About the autumn of the year 1836 or '37, I had some thirty or forty barrels of apples to pick. In the orchard with some other fruit trees were some Newtown pippin trees...It was a "bearing year," as farmers call it, and there was a great crop of apples; and I had very few wormy ones."

"We picked the apples by hand, and did not pour them from one basket to another without putting soft hay or oat straw between them. While pouring them we put straw on the floor of the room in which they were stored; there was also straw put on the bottom of each basket, and on the bottom of the cart we carried them in; all this was done to keep them from bruising."

"After they were all housed, we set to work to sort them, rejecting all which had any defects, and if damp, wiping off the moisture. We next took each apple and rolled it in coarse clean paper. The paper had this effect—it keeps the apples from rubbing each other, and keeps them at a certain degree of moisture, not allowing them to evaporate or receive damp. In the bottom, and around the sides of the barrels, a small quantity of straw was placed, and the apples laid in, one at a time, and as close to each other as they possibly could be, without jamming them. When the barrel was filled, a little more straw was put on the top, and the head of the barrel put in, with an inside lining hoop, to keep the head from being knocked in, by accident. These apples were put up to order, and were to go to Sheffield, in England."

"After taking all these precautions, I wrote a direction to this effect:  'These barrels of apples are not to be rolled or tumbled about; if carted, or sent any way by land, something is to be put on the floor of the cart or wagon, so as to keep them from being bruised, rattled, or jolted.'"

"The apples when packed in this way, were tight in the barrels, and could not be made to rattle with common usage.  M. C. W., who ordered them, informed me that they arrived at the destined place, and were all sound to an apple, and much admired by the consignee for their preservation and manner of putting up."

"People may talk as much as they have a mind to about the heat and damp of ships, and so on, being the cause of the apples rotting; but who could expect that an apple, or any other fruit or vegetable could be kept from it, if jammed or bruised constantly."

Unfortunately, this orchardist's account in The Farmer's Cabinet doesn't mention how large his orchard was.  I'm guessing some of his colleagues may have said "sure friend, you can go to all that trouble with only 30 to 40 barrels of fruit....but last year I packed 200 barrels.  I can't spend that much time packing."

And this orchardist would have politely replied: "you may want to hire a few more good men, or reduce the size of your orchard."

Just prior to the turn of the century, the use of barrels for transporting fruit started to wain.  Promoted by the US Dept. of Agriculture, orchardists began using a new-fangled method of packing apples in boxes.  This improved the packing process, and the quality of the fruit upon reaching its destination.  It seems that apple growers started to take more pride in their product.  The development of colorful fruit labels showed-up on the crates.  Today, these labels are highly sought-after for their decorative quality.

(Apple picking images courtesy of the National Apple Museum)

The Lying Stinking Cheating Orchardist

Oh No! Say it ain't so!  The Heirloom Orchardist was sometimes a lying cheating bum?!

Yup, 'fraid so...That humble orchardist, the one we think of going out to his orchard day after day to grind an honest living from his land, was on occasion a stinkin' cheat.  Actually, based on what we see in the farm journals published throughout the 19th century (right on into the 20th century) it happened more frequently than "on occasion."  It was a major problem.

This cheating had to do with packing the fruit.  Here's a piece from the Farm Journal, published in December of 1903:

"All over the country about these days the farmers are packing apples for the market. It takes no small amount of grace in the heart to do that work faithfully and well. But it pays, and pays big, to be honest about packing apples. A row of splendid apples at the bottom of the barrel and then a bushel or two of small, gnarly ones, is just the best way in the world to make men have doubts about the future welfare of the human race. As the world grows better it packs its apples all the way through the barrel as nearly alike as possible."

It seems that our cheating orchardist became so notorious, that buyers learned to look out for him.  An account in the June 10 1908 Market Growers Journal provides an apple buyer's experience:

"I was once buying Apples for home use. The dealer had a number of barrels. "These," said he, pointing to a barrel of Baldwins, "are $2.50 a barrel." "These," pointing to another barrel, "are $3.50 a barrel." Both looked alike on top. But on the head of the ones priced $3.50 was a stencil, "Grown, packed and shipped by: (Orchardist name here), Lockport, N. Y." On the head of the other barrel was a lead pencil scrawl, "Baldwins," and in the middle of the barrel was a motley collection of cullings perfectly worthless. I bought the other barrel, and the Apples all through it were just like those on top, and the dealer said: "That man's Apples always top the market." And it was proper that they should, for they were honestly packed and the grower was proud of his product, for not a scabby Apple was in the barrel. The other packer did not want any one to know who packed or grew the miserable cheat, and his dishonest packing knocked off $1.00 a barrel and should have knocked off more."

Apparently, some clever growers took advantage of the pervasive skepticism.  They packed their fruit well, established a reputation for honesty, and charged a premium for it.  Now, that's the way to do it. That's my kind of entrepreneurial orchardist!

Get Your Fruit List Ready! (How 'bout the "Spitz"?)

"Don't you have clear ideas as to just how to plant and care for an orchard?  Winter is the time to read up.  Send for catalogues, study up varieties, and get your fruit list ready." - The Farm Journal, January, 1894

"How true!" says The Heirloom Orchardist.  "Get your fruit list ready!" Let's start with the Esopus Spitzenburg.  How can you refuse such a classic apple, with a name like that?  Here's what the experts said:

"Esopus Spitzenburg - Fruit large and oval shape; color red, covered with light yellow spots; flesh of the finest flavor for dessert or cooking, and keeps till February." - American Agriculturist, Volume 3, 1844

"The Esopus Spitzenburgh is a handsome, truly delicious apple, and is generally considered, by all good judges, equal to the Newtown Pippin, and unsurpassed as a dessert fruit, by any other variety. It originated at Esopus, a famous apple district, originally settled by the Low Dutch, on the Hudson, where it is still raised in its highest perfection. But throughout the whole of New-York, it is considered the first of apples, and its beauty and productiveness render it highly profitable for orchard culture." - The Fruits and Fruit Trees of America, by Andrew Jackson Downing, 1845

Ah, the perfect apple!  Who could disagree with the famous Mr. Downing?

The Heirloom Orchardist, that's who.  The purpose of this website is to put the old-timers' thoughts and opinions in perspective.  Too easily, we tend to glamorize their ways and means.  It's important that I include an account of this old heirloom (or any heirloom) that makes mention of its not-so-attractive qualities.  This is one of the drawbacks to heirlooms...some of them aren't as hearty as we'd like them to be.  Consider Hedrick's comments of 1922:

"Esopus Spitzenburg - is one of the leading American apples. . . however, (it) falls considerably below the mark of perfection through lack of vigor and health in the tree, and because of decided local prejudices to soil and climate which make it suitable only to favored localities. Unfortunately, also, blossom, foliage, and fruit are inviting prey to apple-scab. The variety originated in Esopus, New York, some years previous to 1800, and has long been grown from the Atlantic to the Pacific." - Cyclopedia of Hardy Fruits, by U. P. Hedrick, 1922

So consider yourself informed.  The Spitz has a reputation for attracting lots of diseases.  But, if you could speak with Thomas Jefferson, who mentioned the Spitz frequently in his notes, you'll probably learn that the pleasures of this classic apple far outweigh any drawbacks.

Purchase an Esopus Spitzenburg Apple Tree

White Winter Pearmain: Like a worthless friend?

In my last post, a book review, I mentioned the differences in how writers describe fruit.  Sure, the older descriptions are adequate.  They do the trick.  But in my opinion, they are flawed by their accuracy.  Here’s a sample piece of Charles Downing’s (The Fruits and Fruit Trees of America) description of the White Winter Pearmain, ca. 1881:

"Basin uneven.  Skin pale yellow, with slight blush or warm cheek, thickly sprinkled with minute brown dots.  Flesh yellowish, tender, crisp, juice very pleasant subacid.  Very good."

Okay, Okay.  Downing is trying to be objective.  He knows that beauty (and flavor) is in the eye of the beholder.  He’s describing the characteristics of hundreds of fruit varieties in his book, and he must use uniform terminology.  But I’d like to know something about the life of this apple!  The personality!  Give me some metaphors!  Consider the following, written about the same time,  by J.M. Hasness, the Secretary of the Holt County Horticultural Society, for the Report of The Missouri State Horticultural Society, 1884:

"Some varieties, like men, start off well, make a brilliant record for a few years, than so utterly fail as to disgust their warmest friends and admirers.  Of such is the White Winter Pearmain, famous in Northwest Missouri fifteen years ago, and at that time really a fine, delicious variety, but now I pronounce it worthless."

Now, there’s an opinionated comment. It sounds as though Mr. Hasness has been let down a few times by the people in his life.  Poor guy.  He then got an axe, went out to his orchard, and took out his frustrations on his worthless White Winter Pearmains.

Of course I’m not being fair.  These two writers were trying to accomplish two very different things with their words.  As I said, Downing’s words are deliberately dry, in order to give an objective description.  But in doing that, he doesn’t express the passion in horticulture.  This time of year, I find myself every morning walking into my backyard garden simply to see what may have popped up from the soil.  I’m checking the buds on my pear trees every day, to see if they’ve opened.  Whether you grow fruit or flowers, there’s too much emotion in horticulture to ignore.

A Baldwin Graft Experiment by P.L. Converse

On March 21 (“Ira’s Columbian Pippin”), I explained that many heirloom apple varieties were biennial bearers.  That is, they don’t fruit heavily every year, but tend to alternate years.  If the Heirloom Orchardist could figure out a way to trick half of his trees to produce on the odd years, and half on the even years, he could plan his production (and cash flow) a lot better.  Here’s an observation from a Mr. Converse, published in 1851:

New England Farmer and Boston Rambler
Boston, Saturday, April 5, 1851
Vol. VI, Number 14

Grafting in Odd and Even Years.
Mr. Cole:  In looking over the 2nd vol. of the N.E. Farmer, I noticed at page 30th, a call for facts in relation to the year of grafting having an influence on the year of bearing of apple-trees, and as I have a little practice in point, it is at your service.
In the spring of 1845, I took scions from a Baldwin apple tree that bore invariably in odd years and inserted them into a standard.  The next year I took scions from the same tree as before, and inserted them into another standard.  The result is as follows: The tree first grafted bore fruit in 1848, '50.
On the second tree about one-half the scions bore fruit in 1849, the other half in 1850.  The trees grafted were natural fruit of the same variety, and great bearers every year.

Yours, P. L. CONVERSE.
Woburn, MA, March 21, 1851.

So, what’s the conclusion?  Mr. Converse seems to imply that by grafting the odd-year bearing Baldwin on its bearing year (1845), he’d managed to switch the Baldwin’s timing to that of an even bearing tree.  Then, when he grafted Baldwin scions on the even (non-bearing) year, he produced both even and odd bearing trees.  Got it?  My slow brain had to think about it a couple times.  In the end, I think P.L. Converse needs to give this more time.  He should've reported back every year.

Grafting and budding are at the heart of growing heirloom apples, since no apple comes "true to seed."  That is, if you grow an apple seed that comes from a Baldwin Apple, you're not going to get a tree producing Baldwins.  To get that, you need to graft a piece of a tree (a scion or a bud) that you know produces Baldwins, onto another apple tree.  Grafting is a fun craft, and it's easily done...with practice.  Here's a link.

Ira's "Columbian Pippin"

On March 9, 1835, Ira Cole wrote to the Yankee Farmer about three varieties of apple.  We continue with his description of the third apple, which he calls the “Columbian Pippin:”

The Yankee Farmer
No. 6, Vol. 1
Cornish, Maine, March 16, 1835

     Mr. Cole, - Agreeably to your request, I improve the first opportunity in describing a few varieties of apples, which I consider among the most valuable.

     Columbian Pippin. - This apple is equalled by few, and surpassed by none, in its season: the tree is large, thrifty and hardy, but delights in a rich strong soil; the fruit is of large size delightfully fair, thin delicate skin, pale straw color, conical form, and semitransluscent.  It is of a very mild sour, rich, juicy, and of a spicy delicious flavor.  It is in use from Sept. to Nov. and equally valuable for cooking or the desert.  In alternate years it bears in great abundance and in the intermediate years, lightly.  It originated in the same Orchard with the Table Greening.

     Yours Respectfully,
     IRA COLE
     Limerick, Maine, March 9, 1835.

So here’s another apple, which originated along with his “Table Greening,” in Ira’s own orchard located in Cornish Maine.  An internet search tells us that Columbian Pippin was being grown by a couple orchardists in 1848, and 1850. So, apparently Ira managed to sell some scions, and the name Columbian Pippin stuck for a while before this variety faded away.  Here are a couple new terms a new Heirloom Orchardist can learn from Ira’s description:

Pippin:  I love this term.  A “pippin” is an old English word derived from the French word for 'seedling'.  But in slang, “pippin” is also something or someone that is very much admired.  So, it is understandable that an old orchardist could want to call every new apple in his orchard a Pippin.

Biennial Bearing apple:  In alternate years, the Columbian Pippin "bears in great abundance."  Many heirloom apple trees tend to be biennial bearers.  Apparently, the Columbian Pippin was such a variety.  This tendency means that they may bear a heavy crop of fruit every other year and a small crop in “off” years.

Esq. Plummer's "Black Russet"

On March 9, 1835, Ira Cole wrote to the Yankee Farmer about three varieties of apple.  We provide his description of the “Black Russet”:

The Yankee Farmer
No. 6, Vol. 1
Cornish, Maine, March 16, 1835

     Mr. Cole, - Agreeably to your request, I improve the first opportunity in describing a few varieties of apples, which I consider among the most valuable.
     Black Russet. - This is a very fine fruit, of a large size, good flavor, and keeps a year; it is a good bearer, but to flourish well, requires a strong rich soil.  It is unquestionably among the first apples of our country, but will not cook.  I have been informed by an intelligent orchardist, that it originated in the orchard of one Esq. Plummer of N.H.

     Yours Respectfully,
     IRA COLE
     Limerick, Maine, March 9, 1835.

Ira doesn’t give much of a description of the Black Russet.  This is because he doesn’t need to.  The name tells it all.  In Ira’s day, both “black” apples and “russeted” apples were common.  They still are…amongst heirloom varieties.  The old orchardists growing apples knew intuitively what a Black Russet would look like.  Here’s a quick primer on these two terms:

Black:  An apple is said to be black when it displays a color so darn deep red/blue/purple, that it almost looks black.  An artist or someone accustomed to looking at paint chips will tell you it’s not really black.  But to someone who breeds plants for their colors, it is.  Think of the “black” tulips that are available nowadays…they’re not really black, but boy…that’s about as black as any plant is really gonna get.

Russet:  Simply put, this is rough skin.  It has been described as similar to the skin of a potato.  Perhaps you’ve seen a patch of russeting on a McIntosh you picked-up at the supermarket.  And what did you do?  You put that apple back on the pile, and picked another.  That’s why we don’t see many apples in the supermarket with this naturally occurring condition.  Commercially, russeting is considered today to be undesirable.  (There are other reasons.  Russeting can cause the skin to crack, which is a BIG problem to a grower.)  But russeting is frequently found in the Heirloom Orchard.

I haven't been able to find any other reference to the "Black Russet" apple.  It may not have spread far beyond the orchard of “one Esq. Plummer” of New Hampshire.  But it’s also possible that some clever orchardist re-named it, and we know this apple today as an heirloom variety with a catchier name.

The "Table Greening" apple of Cornish, Maine

On March 9, 1835, Ira Cole wrote to the Yankee Farmer about three new varieties of apple.  We publish his description of the Table Greening here:

The Yankee Farmer
No. 6, Vol. 1
Cornish, Maine, March 16, 1835

     Mr. Cole, - Agreeably to your request, I improve the first opportunity in describing a few varieties of apples, which I consider among the most valuable.
     Table Greening. - This apple, I consider before any other now cultivated, for keeping.  The tree is most luxuriant in its growth, handsome in its appearance, acquires an enormous size, and will bear any situation or exposure.  The fruit is of a very large size, extremely fair, handsome shape, and of a beautiful grass green color, with a purple cheek next the sun.  It is in use from April till October, but may be kept two years with common care.
     This fruit is coarse grained and extremely crisp, and possesses the very rare and valuable property of keeping a great length of time, without growing insipid, or losing its fine flavor.  It is excellent for cooking or for the desert.  It bears every year; in alternate years it is a good, though not profuse bearer; but in the intermediate years, it is rather a shy bearer.  It originated in a very old orchard which I now own in Cornish.  It is as yet but little disseminated.  I count it altogether the most valuable apple that I raise, or that I ever have seen.
     Yours Respectfully,
     IRA COLE
     Limerick, Maine, March 9, 1835.

A.J. and Charles Downing identify the Table Greening in the 1900 issue of their classic Fruits and Fruit Trees of America.  So, presumably it was still a known variety around the turn of the century.  I haven’t been able to find another reference, or description.  Please contact me, or comment on this post if you are familiar with this heirloom variety.  We’d like your comment to become part of the database.

I suspect there’s some clever marketing going on here in the Yankee Farmer.  Perhaps there was a relationship between S.W. Cole, (the “editor and proprietor” of the Yankee Farmer), and Ira Cole, the informant on the Table Greening…Ira is from Limerick, Maine, and states the Table Greening originates from an orchard in Cornish, Maine.  Cornish is also the place where the Yankee Farmer is published.  A later issue of the Farmer contains the above ad for scions.