APPLETIME.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXIII, Issue 19328, 15 May 1926, Page 1 (Supplement)

APPLETIME.

BRITAIN'S FAVOURITE FRUIT

liY DOLCE A. DUNCAN. What wondrous life is this I lead! Ripe apples drop about my head. Genial Andrew Mnrvell ! Whnt a charming picture lie outlines here. Imagination at once calls up a fair plesanee, its flagged paths bordered by fragrant herbs, thyme and marjoram, sago and lavender. Near by are rows of apple trees loaded with globes of gold and russet and crimson. A high sun-baked wall with its espaliered peaches and nectarines gives grateful shelter, and permeating the air is the drowsing autumn warmth, the only sound the hum of innumerable bees drawn by the perfume of the nec tared fruit. In such a garden, 1 fully believe, was Sir Tsacc Newton dreaming when a certain epoch-making apple fell to the ground. For weeks past our New Zealand orchards have been delivering up their fruity wealth—-the accumula.'oerfection of many months of Nature's her silent magic. Out of the sunshine, the. rain, the wind, the dew —through scorching days and frosty, starry nights, the trees have never ceased to draw precious essences of perfume, of colour, and flavour needful for the full fashioning of those juicy miracles which our Saxon forefathers so happily named " apples." It is still the paramount fruit, of the English. France has the grape, Germany the plum and the cherry; Italy the olive; but the apple is the characteristic fruit, of Britain, a favourite with King and Commoner, old and young alike. It is the fruit of fruits. One like!; to think that as far back as six centuries, Englishwomen cooked apples just- as we are cooking them to-day. and that the "applepye" or pasty was greatly favoured even 'then. A fourteenth century recipe curiously entitled " Appieuns for a Lorde in Opyntide," sounds puzzling, but as opvntide means springtime, it was just. " h dish fit for a lord." They had also other dishes, strange in flavour and very rich, such as applernov, apple tausy, and pominysmorle. And sympathy with a sorrowing friend was expressed by the gift of a " comfort apple"—an apple closely stuck with cloves. This was the origin of the later pomander, represented mi our own day by the perfumed sachet. The Saxons and Horticulture. Whether the apple was brought from Gaul to Britain by the Romans is uncertain. Certainly the Saxon pirates who overwhelmed the country 111 the fifth century justified their reputation as devastators, by destroying every arbour, every cultivated garden and plant and tree. In this twentieth century it is difficult to imagine a gardenless England. Three hundred years passed before the vine—introduced doubtless from I'ranee — was cultivated, and wine was made. The monks of the Middle Ages—to whom civilisation owes an unpayable debt in that they were the conservators of whatever art and culture escaped vandalism—gradually collected and carefully tended in their secluded monastery gardens a few herbs, flowers and fruit trees. Of these the apple tree was specially marked out for attention. These gentle guardians lavished much care upon it. They drew up laws for its protection, and even composed prayers lor its welfare. How they would have rejoiced in those far-off days had they known the fruit as we know it to-day—these divinelyflavoured pippins, russet, golden, fivecrown, Cox's orange. Sturmers—the family of winsaps—the five giant Jonathans, surely the glory of appledom! I think their gratitude would surely have found expression in a noble lyric. Parentage of Our Many Varieties. It was not till the twelfth century that gardens were laid out, but only within the shelter of castle walls. Here, safe from marauding thieves and wild animals, small avenues of trees were interspersed with neat beds of flowers and herbs for the still-room. The only apple tree then known was the costard, small and sourish, from which quantities of cider, " that good-natured and portable liquor," was made.

By the seventeenth century the apple, greatly improved by grafting, was much esteemed for eating, and was carefully stored for the winter. Thus Evelyn advises his readers in his quaint English to " turn and refresh your autumnal fruit lest it taint, and open the windows where it lyes on a clear and serene day." It was this John Evelyn, gentleman of culture. keen garden lover, and friend of kings, whose " Sylva" still remains the most complete account of gardens in the seventeenth century. And his " Gardeners' Chronicle," written for the newlyformed Royal Society, was the first attempt to assist amateur gardeners by listing the planting operations for each month in the year. Cider-Making and Wassailing the Tree. At first cider was made by the laborious method of pounding the fruit by hand in wooden mortars. Then came the mills, and presses turned by horses. During the cider-making season the whole countryside was scented with a sour fruity odour, for every good Devonshire farmer prided himself on the number of barrels filled with cider stored in his cellar. He was healthy and wise in his generation. But beer and metheglin crowded out his wholesome beverage, and cider-making was gradually given up. A curious relic of the heathen sacrifice to Pomona was tho wassailing of the apple trees. Great jugs filled with cider and roasted apples were carried out to the orchard by the Devonshire farmer and his workmen, who drank deep as they circled round the best trees, and then poured the rest of the cider on the ground while they sang the wassail song, one of which ran as follows:Health to thee, good apple tree, Well to bear pooketfulls, hatfulls, Peckfulis. bushel bugfulls! And now New Zealand bids fair to become one of the orchards of the old world. Already a single apple district in Auckland, Nelson, or Otago Central probably produces more fruit than did the whole of Britain in Marvell's day. But, as yet, we. are only beginning to discover our possibilities in this direction.