Saturday Evening Gazette/June 7, 1856/Science of the Soil
Science of the Soil.
It is a subject for rejoicing that a taste is growing constantly for the cultivation of the soil, for the production of the fairest species of nature’s creations—fruits and flowers. This has been owing to the efforts of such men as M. P. Wilder, J. Fiske Allen, the Brecks, the Winships and other, whose untiring zeal, for a quarter of a century, has been devoted to improvements in what we denominate the science of the soil. The success of these efforts has been of the most satisfactory character, manifested through their exhibitions, in improved varieties of fruits and flowers that each year sees poured into the lap of autumn. We are glad at the increased interest manifested by all, and take courage in the assurance of increased refinement among the people, as St. Paul took courage on seeing the three taverns, as we believe a love of the beautiful in nature or art is incompatible with wickedness. Honor to the noble men who have achieved it, whose names, allied with benefit, shall live with a lasting fame as benefactors of their race.
We were called a day or two since to old Salem, and visited several gardens in that semi-rural city, that were gems of taste, and abounded with rich evidences of the care and attention of their owners. The city of Salem is full of excellent private gardens, and to apply the rule of incompatibility of floral taste to vicious inclination, Salem may be pronounced, from an outside view even, as virtuous as it is beautiful. Salem is as bewitching as it was once bewitched, and a stranger, in view of its wide streets, and graceful foliage, and finely arranged and roomy grounds, feels the influence of the spell.
The most prominent among these is the garden of Jos. S. Cabot, in Essex street. Its finely laid out and level walks are most grateful to the eye, while its profusion of flowers is a source of continued delights. There is a judicious adaptedness of hue to location among all the varieties, that strikes the trained eye, and the tout ensemble is that of the most exquisite taste. About an acre of ground, extending from Essex to Chestnut street, is devoted to the cultivation of flowers and fruits and affords ample room and food for admiration. In this garden the most extensive bed of tulips is to be seen that it was ever our good fortune to witness. It contains upward of one thousand varieties, of every shade and hue, and it was in its most perfect bloom at the time we saw it, sparkling in the sun like a floral mosaic, and in its blended hues presenting an appearance not surpassed by scenes of fairy land and richer than imagination could conceive. It was a sight not soon to be forgotten, and we think the exhibition could with difficulty be excelled. The plants were perfect and healthy and the ultimate of tulip cultivation seemed to have been attained. Such gardens are creditable to their proprietors and to the places where they are located. Mr. Cabot grants the privilege, to all, of seeing his grounds, which is availed of very extensively.
Opposite Mr. Cabot’s, in Chestnut street, is the residence of J. Fisk Allen, whose name in connection with fruit and flowers is as a household word in our ears. He has been regarded as an embodiment of nectarines, peaches, grapes, figs, Victoria regias, and lilies, and his affable manners, upon acquaintance, reconciles one to the opinion that it must be so.
We visited his celebrated Victoria Regia, but one plant of which he has now living, all but this having been killed by the severe cold of last winter. This plant has been too often spoken of to need description at this time, but an examination of the spot where it grows, and the knowledge gained there of its requirements and delicacy of its culture, must convince one of the care and patience to be exercised in its development that before was not appreciated. For several years an application has been devoted to it that in some families would have been sufficient for the rearing of a large family of children, and the recompense has been in the satisfaction enjoyed in maturing the splendid plant, than which, to a man like Mr. Allen, an enthusiastic in his favorite science, scarce more was wanted. We learned from him that this year he should discontinue its cultivation, a dampness proceeding from it, that rendered it inimical to health, he himself having suffered therefrom. One bud of the mammoth lily is nearly ready to bloom. It puts forth but one at a time, and they follow each other in regular succession.
In the same apartment with the Victoria Regia, are various other plants of tropical growth—plants of water and those of air—of very rare descriptions. Among these are the lotus of the Nile, African lilies, and air plants, whose odd proclivity for impalpable diet is a matter of great wonder. A visit to Mr. Allen’s grapery, in Flint street, was a great feature of our visit. This is nearly all in doors, for the rearing of choice descriptions, though several hybrid varieties—crossings between the Isabella and some foreign grape—bore the winter exceedingly well out doors, and show great vigor. Several glass houses compose his grapery, heated by steam pipes and arranged on the most scientific plans for securing an even temperature. Nectarines, peaches and figs were seen in great profusion, ripening beneath the glass, and more than one hundred varieties of grapes are struggling for eminence some day, in our horticultural aeports.
The grapery of Mr. Allen and his great water lily are well worth a journey to Salem to see, and we feel well compensated for our afternoon’s sojourn in the city of the witches.
