Whatever may have been the squealing celebrity of Porkopolis,
Cincinnati seems destined to merge the glory of that name in the more
agreeable title, City of Vineyards. That she is the Queen City none
denies. But on account of what single excellence, it might be
difficult, for some, to say. A queen of slaughter-pens might he a
hearty buxom lass, but, withal, not exactly the personage for which
knights (Sancho always excepted) love to break lances. A queen of
foundries and stithies, she might be, and not necessarily, on that
account, a ruddy brunette; inasmuch as Sir Vulcan was, once before,
the husband of Venus—queen of beauty. A blushing queen of strawberry
beds would be quite romantic; but yet more appropriate if her
jurisdiction were extended over vines and purple clusters and
vineyards and orchards. But whether it be pork, or iron, or gardens,
or vineyards, or observatories, Cincinnati is acknowledged on all
hands to be the Queen City.
Leaving her commercial glories out of view, we think Cincinnati has
done more for horticulture than any American city, taking into the
account her recent origin and her means. In all other cities
horticulture has been the child of wealth and leisure. It has
_followed_ commercial or manufacturing prosperity. But in this city,
it began with them and kept pace with them; so that one wonders which
most to admire, the thrift of industry and skill, or the elegant taste
which is so generally evinced in the cultivation of fruit, and shrub
and flower.
The first volume of the Transactions of the Cincinnati Horticultural
Society, is eminently worthy of that enterprising corporation.
The thoughts of several principal friends of horticulture seem much
directed to the subject of vine culture, and the manufacture of wine.
There are more than eighty-three vineyards in the vicinity of the city
containing not far from 400 acres of land! From 114 acres during the
season of 1845, more than 23,000 gallons of wine were manufactured,
and there was not more than half a crop obtained in that season. The
average yield of wine per acre, for five years in succession, is
stated to be from 450 to 500 gallons per annum.
Many think the culture of the grape will be the finishing stroke to
the temperance enterprise; affording a wholesome beverage from our
hills in place of “corn juice” from our bottoms, and beer from our hop
and barley fields.
The arguments urged by some with great sincerity, are the often-quoted
facts, that the inhabitants of wine-making countries are favorably
distinguished for temperance; and that a palatable and wholesome
beverage—pure wine—would supersede the use of violent liquors. If we
thought that our people would become temperate upon such conditions,
we should be glad to see a vineyard on every hillside, and a wine-vat
to every farmhouse. But there is no reason to expect any such result.
Vineyards in Europe exist among a quiet, comparatively unenterprising
peasantry. They have been _trained_ to moderation; necessity has made
them temperate in all things—in food, in dress, in expense, and in
drink. The popular habits are not so excitable as with us; business
runs in quiet streams, and politics are unknown. With us, business is
boisterous, pleasure obstreperous, and politics outrageous. Our people
are anything but quiet; they are hot, hot in tongue and blood. It is
wide enough of the mark to suppose that the same cause existing among
two entirely dissimilar people, would, of course, produce the same
results. We might as well say that vineyards would make our people eat
less meat, less corn and pork, because the residents of wine districts
were known to be addicted to a vegetable diet. The probable
consequences of abundant cheap wine must be judged, not by what would
happen in France, among abstemious peasants, nor on the Rhine, among
economical and sober Germans; but by the tastes, habits, and
tendencies of our own people. In this land everything tends to
excitement. Men live upon a higher key, and live faster and live much
more full of exhilaration than the same classes do in foreign lands.
Our people drink not for the _taste_ but for the _excitement_ of
liquor; and, so that wine, beer, or whisky will bring them up to the
right key, the question of wholesomeness is quite unimportant. Our
people are free and therefore have a right to live in the violation of
natural laws; and a right, constantly exercised, of having fevers on
account of surfeitings, and of dying early and by thousands by reasons
of gross excesses.
Pleasures and business are esteemed by the volume of blood which they
can drive, the pulse they can raise, the heat of excitement which they
can produce. So long as affairs are fresh and piquant they are
stimulants enough. But in the inequalities and intervals and fatigues
of life, something else is required to hold the spirits up to the high
level upon which everything proceeds. As soon as a man resorts to
alcoholic stimulants to do this, he has embarked upon a course where
all experience shows that he will drink deeper and deeper to final
downright intemperance.
Some people think that cheap and wholesome beverage for the “masses,”
for laboring people, is desirable. While it may be well enough for
every gentleman of leisure, it is to be the poor man’s special
blessing, saving him from the swill of the brewery and the fire of the
still. Facts will stand on the side of the reverse reasoning. If wine
is to be harmless at all, it will be with men who are not prone to
enterprising heats; but given to the relishful pleasure of sipping
just for the delicate flavors, for the aroma, for the fine _bouquet_
of wine—men who need to have their blood up, and kept up, and resort
to wine to supply the flagging stimulus of affairs; such men will not
drink for the flavor, but for the feeling.
It is for the sake of being roused; it is to be stimulated; it is, in
plain language, to have the first exhilarations of drunkenness that
laboring men drink, will drink, and have always drank cider, beer,
wine, and brandy. The result of affording wine in abundance to such
people as ours, will be to prepare them for a stronger drink just as
soon as wine, by frequent use, is no longer stimulating enough. Wine
will play jackal to brandy for the rich, and to whisky for the poor.
We have some facts on hand touching this popular wine-drinking, which,
if necessary, we shall employ at another time. Meanwhile, we are glad
to see grape-culture spreading for the production of table-grapes; for
the manufacture of wine, in so far as a supply of pure wine is needed
for medicinal purposes. Further than that, we are opposed to
wine-making. And as to cheating whisky out of its authority over “the
dear people” by the blandishments of hock and champagne, or redeeming
our barley and cornfields from the abominable persecutions of the
brew-tub and the still, by the conservative energy or evangelizations
of grape juice, we shall believe it when we see it; and we shall just
as soon expect to see fire putting out fire and frost melting ice, as
one degree of alcoholic stimulus curing a higher one.
* * * * *
TO PRESERVE GARDEN STICKS.—It is desirable when one has prepared good
sticks for supporting carnations, roses, dahlias, etc., to preserve
them from year to year. The following preparation will make them last
a man’s lifetime: When they are freshly made, allow them to become
thoroughly dry; then soak them in linseed oil for some time, say two
or three days. When taken out let them stand to dry till the oil is
perfectly soaked in; then paint with two coats of verdigris paint. No
wet can then penetrate.