RIVERSIDE.

There is no place in Southern California where the effects of a close

and intelligent study of horticultural matters are so visible as in

Riverside. Money alone may build villas and mansions; but the

intelligent and ever watchful horticulturist alone can, out of climate,

soil, water and capital, produce a Riverside. It is charming beyond

description; it must be seen to be realized. The best time to get a full

and good view of Riverside is early in the morning, just at sunrise, and

there is no better place to view it from than the hill on which the

Hotel Rubidoux was to have been built. I arose before sunrise, and

struggled up the steep hillside. It well repaid me for the trouble, as

few more beautiful views can be had. The whole settlement can be taken

in at a glance,--the town close by imbedded in orange groves and

vineyards, and the dense verdure of the country stretching for ten miles

down the valley, and almost connecting with the yet farther off South

Riverside. On the eastern side we see the San Bernardino Mountains, with

the “Old Greyback,” and between the mountains and the settlements a

lower range of steep hills appear, which in a continuous range either

bar the way or like isolated islands shoot boldly up from the mesa land.

The Riverside colony forms a continuous settlement along the mesa,

skirting the river, the deep green of the orange orchards harmonizing

splendidly with the lighter green of the vineyards. At close intervals

there are houses in every direction, with the bluest smoke rising

straight up from their chimneys, and thence carried in long, tiny bands

and columns down the valley just level with the tree tops. It is a pity

the hotel on this hill was never finished--a great many more would then

have enjoyed the almost unequaled view. An extension of the main

business street in town leads up to this hill. On both sides of the

street there are fine orange orchards and neat houses,--real country

homes, sidewalks of cement where rows of fan-palms take the place of

regular shade trees along their sides. The business portion of Riverside

is confined to two streets crossing each other at right angles. If we

stand in the center of this crossing we take it all in, the houses

extending a block and a half in the four different directions. Some of

the houses and brick blocks are very large and expensive, while many

again are smaller, but all are costly and elegant, with new and perhaps

startling ornamental designs. Whatever Southern California does, it does

well, and even the cheapest structures have an air of character and

taste which can hardly be too much admired.

When one speaks of Riverside he means the whole settlement that is

irrigated, and to live in Riverside may mean to live in town, or it may

mean a suburban residence ten miles away. In the latter locality the

benefits of the country are happily combined with the luxuries of city

life. Street cars run from the center of the business part of town down

to the end of the settlement. It is a cheap way to view the settlement

to board one of these early cars. You can see as much as any one may

care to see, but of course cannot stop and examine. The whole drive is

one not to be matched anywhere else. From the moment you leave town you

pass orchards and vineyards separated from each other by only a road or

cypress hedge. Every foot of ground is taken up. The main effort of all

the settlers appears to be to make everything attractive, from the very

sidewalk to the elaborate garden and the villa. Nearer town, every

street has sidewalks of cement, and bordering them are continuous hedges

of cypress trimmed in various styles, and in front of every house are

lawns and plats of shrubbery and flowers, as neatly kept as if visitors

were expected day or night. Some of the villas partake of the character

of mansions, with towers, balconies and painted windows, while here and

there in some of the finest orchards are yet seen some of the first

houses built, small and unpretentious. The individual tastes of the

owners are clearly discernible. One has a row of palms running along his

sidewalk, another has palms and grevilleas, while others prefer the

pepper and gum. The manner of trimming the hedges is charming; it has

here become quite an art. Some hedges have square, others roofed tops,

and at every corner there is a little pillar of cypress with diamond or

globular top, not at all artificial or stiff.

The vast majority of the plantations consist of orange groves. The color

of the trees is splendid, every leaf being bright and shining, and there

is no sign of smut or scale. The large and upright Seedlings are easily

distinguished from the smaller but bushy Navels. The tendency is now to

plant mostly the latter, and most of the old Seedling trees are being

budded over. The original Navel tree, which is the prime cause of the

prosperity of Riverside and of the fame of its oranges, is yet standing

by a modest cottage, which appears not to have kept pace with the times.

The tree is small, perhaps twelve feet high, having been constantly cut

back for buds. From this tree have sprung all the rest. No other Navel

tree imported from Brazil or Australia resembles it in quality of fruit

or in bearing capacity. It is probably a chance “sport” originally

imported by the Agricultural Department at Washington, its companion

trees being different in the most essential points which make this

variety so valuable and so famous. This beautiful and choice orange, now

generally known as the “Washington Navel,” is slightly oblong or

egg-shaped, and the skin is very smooth, with no ridges at the poles,

the latter being characteristic of the other Navel varieties. The crop

of Navels this year is good. Many growers expect from three to four

boxes to the tree, and, as each box brings from three to four dollars,

it is evident the business pays. The valuable and permanent improvements

everywhere show this to be the case; the account books of the grower

need not be searched to demonstrate it. Here and there we also see a

lemon orchard with its larger trees of a different green. A few years

ago many lemon orchards were dug up, as no one understood the secret of

saving the lemons till the warm season, when alone they can bring a good

price. But at last one of the growers wrung the secret from Nature, and

now buys up all the young lemons he can find and stores them away to be

used from six to ten months later, just when they are most in demand. In

company with that courteous horticulturist, the editor of the Riverside

_Press_, E. W. Holmes, we visited this gentleman, G. W. Garcelon. To him

is due much credit for having discovered the process. He presented us

with lemons of the small and proper size that had been picked green

eight months ago. They were equal to the best imported, both as to

smallness of size, acidity, thinness of skin and quality of juice. These

lemons bring now five dollars per box, at which price lemon culture

proves more profitable than that of the orange.

The only variety that should be planted is the Lisbon lemon, the Eureka

having too bitter a peel, and the much recommended Villa Franca being

round and thus unacceptable. We passed several vineyards, the Muscat

vines being large and the vineyards well kept. The grapes are just

ripening, but it will be some two weeks yet before they are ready to

cut. The only variety grown here is the Muscat of Alexandria, the real

Gordo Blanco being unknown, or at least not generally planted.

The far-famed Magnolia avenue is near at hand. The center is occupied by

a continuous row of old pepper trees, with gracefully drooping branches,

under which the cars run. The outside rows are different in various

places, generally palms with alternating grevilleas, or gum or pepper

trees. The custom now is to replace the outside trees with palms, and

many of the stately gums are being cut away. Beyond the sidewalks are

the trimmed cypress hedges, and behind them orange orchards, only

interrupted by open lawns and gardens partially hiding the tasty

dwelling-houses of the horticulturists. All that we see, now so

luxuriant and beautiful, is the effect of water on the otherwise barren

plains. Everything is irrigated several times a year by means of flowing

water brought from distant points, from the mountain cañons, or from the

artesian wells in the river bottom higher up, several miles away.

The canals are all on the highest ground, and are dug on technical

principles. There is no washing and no filling up, no broken-down gates

and overflowing and stagnant ponds. Some ditches are cemented, and look

magnificently clean, without any weeds or mud. The water in them is like

the water of a spring, clear and pellucid. In course of time all the

ditches will be cemented, the cost for doing the work being paid for in

a short time by the water saved and the absence of the necessary

cleaning out.

Riverside is indeed to be envied its Chinatown. The latter was, some

years ago, moved a mile from town into a hollow, and now every house

there is surrounded by cypress hedges and windbreaks of cypress and gum.

Moreover, every house there is connected with the sewerage system, and

the usual smell is not noticed on the outside. Indeed, one can drive by

and not know the nature of the town, for it looks like any other country

village, almost hidden in evergreens.

In a few weeks the raisin harvest will commence, and from that time on

Riverside, along its whole extent, will be life and bustle. When the

grapes are all in, the oranges will be ready for harvesting, and the

country will again boast of its thousands of carloads of the golden

fruit.