The Golden Apples of the Hesperides
The orange, like many other of California’s most valuable products,
was brought into the country by the patient, far-seeing padres. Orange,
lemon, and citron, those three gay cousins of royal blood, traveled
together, and soon were to be found in many of the mission gardens. The
most extensive of that early planting was an orchard at San Gabriel,
set out by Padre Sanchez in 1804. In the height of its prosperity,
this mission is recorded as having two thousand three hundred and
thirty-three fruit trees, a large proportion of which were orange
trees. San Fernando had sixteen hundred trees. San Diego had its orange
orchard: how many trees is not recorded, but its olive grove numbered
five hundred and seventeen flourishing trees. Santa Inez had nearly a
thousand trees. As early as 1800 Santa Barbara and San Buenaventura also
had valuable orchards.
Outside the missions the first orange trees in any number were planted
in 1834, the famous Wolfskill grove in 1841. By 1862 there were about
twenty-five thousand trees of this variety in the state, and two thirds
of these belonged to Wolfskill, of Los Angeles. A little later several
large orchards were planted in the region around the Mission San
Gabriel. In Riverside, often called the mother of orange culture in the
state, the first seeds were planted in 1870, the first trees from these
seeds in 1873, and from that period is dated the beginning of extensive
planting. This was largely the work of colonists. About the time the
orchards came into bearing, the Southern Pacific and the Santa Fe
Overland were completed, so that an Eastern market was gained for the
fruit, with the result that the new industry fairly bounded forward. So
much was sometimes made from an acre of trees that it seemed as though
people could not get land and plant fast enough. Occasionally an income
was reported of three thousand dollars from an acre, and eight hundred
to one thousand dollars per acre was not an uncommon crop.
Although at this time there were a few orange trees in the middle and
northern parts of the state, for many years it was supposed that only
the southern country could raise this fruit suitable for the market, but
to-day people know better. Excellent oranges are grown as far north as
Shasta, and Butte County, which leads in the northern orange culture,
has a number of large and valuable orchards. From Tulare County and
other parts of the valley of the San Joaquin, choice fruit is being
shipped to the markets of the East. From San Diego all the way up
the state one may find trees of the citrus family flourishing; still,
whether north or south, in planting an orange orchard, the greatest care
has to be taken in the choice of location. Jack Frost is the enemy to be
avoided, and generally in any strip of country the lower lands are the
ones he visits first. So the highlands are preferred, and even here the
currents of air must be studied. A strong, uninterrupted, downward sweep
of air from the snowcovered mountains will often, at night, drive away
the needed warmth gathered during the day, so that land protected by
some mountain spur which makes an eddy in the current is the best for
this heat-loving fruit.
There are several popular varieties of the orange. The Valencia late is
being planted by many in preference to others because, besides being a
fine fruit, it keeps well, ripening when the days begin to be long
and hot, and is therefore doubly welcome. The sweet orange from the
Mediterranean country, and the St. Michael, with its paper rind, are
also favorites, as are the delicious little Mandarin and Tangerine
varieties, with their thin skin and high flavor; but the king of them
all is the Washington navel, which has gained for the state its high
position as an orange-raising territory. This is not a new variety,
though many may believe it so. A book published in Rome over three
hundred years ago gives an interesting description and pictures of this
and other kinds of oranges and the way they should be raised. The title
of this rare old volume is “Hesperides, or about the Golden Apples,
their Culture and Use.” Among its many fine illustrations is one of
Hercules receiving the golden apples. Another shows the bringing of the
fruit to Italy by a body of nymphs and goddesses in Neptune’s car. Mr.
Charles F. Lummis has translated portions of the book in the California
magazine Out West.
On its travels the navel orange finally reached Bahia, Brazil, and
there, sometime during the Civil War in the United States, a lady
who, it is said, was the wife of the American consul, discovered the
deliciousness of this fruit. So pleased was she that she determined to
share her enjoyment with others; so upon her return to her own country,
she described this orange to Mr. Saunders, head of the government’s
experimental farm at Washington. He became interested in the subject,
sent to Bahia, and had twelve navel trees propagated by budding. These
were shipped to Washington, where they arrived safely, and were placed
in the orangery there. They all grew, and from them a large number of
trees were budded.
Still they had not reached California. Bringing them to the Pacific
coast was also the work of a woman. Mrs. Tibbetts, wife of a fruit
grower of Riverside, was visiting in Washington and to her Mr. Saunders
presented two navel orange trees, which she brought home with her. They
were planted beside her doorstep in Riverside. The trees grew rapidly,
and when they bore fruit it did not take the California orange growers
long to discover that here they had a treasure of more value than the
largest nugget of gold ever found in the state.
It was at a citrus fair in Riverside in 1879 that this golden king first
appeared before the world. Then from all over southern California came
orange men to get buds from these trees. Back home they went with the
precious bits of life. Acres of seedling oranges were quickly shorn of
their green crowns. Cut, cut, went knife and shears till only the stock
was left, and then into a carefully made slit in the bark was placed the
navel bud. It soon sprouted, and everywhere one could see the stranger
growing sturdily on its adopted stem. Thousands of buds were sold from
the two parent trees until there were hundreds of thousands of their
beautiful children growing all over the state, giving golden harvests.
If we owe to two ladies the success of orange culture in California, it
was a third who saved the industry when ruin threatened it. For a
while all went merrily with the orange grower; then in some way,
from Australia, there came into the country an insect pest called the
cushiony scale, which settled on the orange trees and seemed likely to
destroy them. “What can be done to save our trees?” was the cry from
the people of the southland. What they did was to bring from Australia
a different visitor, the dainty bug called the ladybird. She was eagerly
welcomed. No one dreamed of bidding her, in the words of the old nursery
rhyme, “fly away home.” She was carried to the diseased orchards, where
she settled on the scale, and as it was her favorite food, she soon
had the trees clean again. In time other pests came to trouble vine
and fruit growers, but it is interesting to know that scientists
nearly always succeeded in finding some insect enemy of the troublesome
visitor, which would help the horticulturist out of his difficulties.
In the business of orange-growing, success is due in a large measure to
care in the picking, packing, and shipping of the fruit--care even
in those little things that seem almost of no consequence. The more
particular Californians are to ship only the best fruit in the best
condition and properly packed, the higher prices will the fruit bring,
the higher reputation the state gain.
The lemon industry comes closely second to the orange. This fruit does
not need so much heat as does the orange, but neither can it stand
so much cold. It needs more water, but it bears more fruit and can be
marketed the year round. The lemons not sold as fresh fruit are made
to yield such products as citric acid, oil of lemon, from which cooking
essences are made, and candied lemon peel. In this latter branch of the
trade, however, the citron is more generally used, though it is not of
so delicate a flavor.
The pomelo, or grape fruit, is fast gaining in favor and increasing in
value.
To the stranger who visits California the orange is the most interesting
of trees. To pick an orange with her own hands, and to pin on her breast
a bunch of the fragrant blossoms, is to an Eastern woman one of the most
pleasant experiences of her visit to the Golden State.
In the history of the growth of southern California, and especially of
its orange culture, the use of water on the soil plays a prominent part.
It was the discovery that the most sandy and unpromising-looking land
became a miracle of fertility when subjected to the irrigating stream,
that caused the wonderful prosperity of the dry portions of the state.
Irrigation, which means the turning of water from a well, spring, or
stream, upon land to promote the growth of plant life, has been used by
mankind for thousands of years. In Colorado, Arizona, and New Mexico,
there are remains of irrigation canals made by people who lived so long
ago that we know nothing of their history.
The padres who settled California were adepts in this science. In
founding a mission they always chose its site near some stream, the
water of which could be turned upon the cultivated fields; and the dams,
canals, and reservoirs which the padres constructed were so well built
that many of them have lasted until the present time.
It will seem strange to many people to learn that the highest-priced,
most fertile farm lands in the United States are not to be found in the
rich valleys of the Eastern states or the prairies of the middle West,
but in the dry region between the Rocky Mountains and the Pacific Ocean.
Colorado, which belongs to the land of little rain, has in proportion to
its size the richest mines of any state in the Union, yet the product of
its farms, all irrigated, equals the output of its mineral wealth.
All the flourishing towns of southern California depend for their
wonderful prosperity upon the fertility of the irrigated country
surrounding them.
Trees and plants require water for their growth, but they do not
all need it in like quantity, nor at the same time; therefore, the
scientific farmer on arid lands, where there is an abundance of water
for irrigation, has an immense advantage over his Eastern brother who
depends for water upon the rainfall alone.
While the valuable raisin crop of the Californian is drying in the sun
and the slightest shower would damage, or perhaps ruin it, just beyond
lies the orange orchard, the trees of which are suffering for water.
The fruit, the size of a large walnut, is still hard and green, and must
have an abundance of the life-giving liquid if it is to develop into the
rich yellow orange, filled with delicious juice, which adorns the New
Year’s market. How would our ranchman prosper if he depended upon rain?
As it is, he furrows his orchard from its highest to its lowest level;
then into the flume which runs parallel with the highest boundary of
the grove he turns the water from pipe or reservoir, and opening the
numerous little slide-doors or sluice-gates of the flume, soon has the
satisfaction of seeing each furrow the bed of a running stream, the
water of which sinks slowly, steadily, down to the roots of the thirsty
trees. After the water has been flowing in this manner for some hours,
it is shut off, for it has done enough work. In a day or two the
ranchman runs the cultivator over the ground of the orchard, leaving the
soil fine and crumbly and the trees in perfect condition for another six
or eight weeks of growth.
The first attempts of the American immigrant at irrigation were very
simple--just the making of a furrow turning the water of a stream upon
his land. Then, as he desired to cultivate more land and raise larger
crops, his ditches had to be longer, often having branches. Soon
neighbors came in and settled above and below him. They too used of
the stream; there was no law to control selfishness, so there were
disagreements and bitter quarrels over the water. Lawsuits followed and
sometimes even fighting and murders. The remedy for this state of things
was found to be in a company ditch, flume, or reservoir, with the use of
water controlled by fixed laws.
There are some crops, notably grapes, which are grown without
irrigation. The grapevine, instead of being treated as a climber, is
each year trimmed back to the main stem, which thus becomes a strong
woody stalk, often a foot or more in circumference, quite capable of
withstanding the heat and dryness of the atmosphere and of drawing from
the soil all the nourishment needed for the fruit.
Wheat, barley, and oats, both as grain and as hay, are largely raised
without irrigation. Olives, and many deciduous trees, by careful
cultivation may flourish without water other than the rainfall; yet
notwithstanding this, for a home in southern California, land without a
good water-right is of little value.
The wealth of the region is in a great measure in its expensive water
system, which, by means of reservoirs, dams, ditches, flumes, and
pipes, gathers the water from the mountain streams and conveys it to the
thirsty land below.