Success with Small Fruits

by Edward Payson Roe

The Turner is another of this class, and, in Mr. Charles Downing's opinion, is the best of them. It was introduced by Professor J. B. Turner, of Illinois, and is a great favorite in many parts of the West. It has behaved well on my place for several years, and I am steadily increasing my stock of it. I regard it as the hardiest raspberry in cultivation, and a winter must be severe, indeed, that injures it. Like the Crescent Seedling strawberry, it will grow anywhere, and under almost any conditions. The laziest man on the continent can have its fruit in abundance, if he can muster sufficient spirit to put out a few roots, and hoe out all the suckers except five or six in the hill. It is early, and in flavor surpasses all of its class; the fruit is only moderately firm. Plant a few in some out-of-the-way place, and it will give the largest return for the least amount of labor of any kind with which I am acquainted. The canes are very vigorous, of a golden reddish-brown, like mahogany, over which spreads in many places a purple bloom, like that on a grape, and which rubs off at the touch. It is almost free from spines, and so closely resembles the Southern Thornless in all respects that I cannot distinguish between them.

The Turner is a fine example of the result of persistent well-doing. After having been treated slightingly and written down at the East for ten years or more, it is now steadily winning its way toward the front rank. Mr. A. S. Fuller, who has tried most of the older varieties, says that he keeps a patch of it for his own use, because it gives so much good fruit with so little trouble.

I shall give its origin in Professor Turner's own words, as far as possible:

"Soon after I came to Illinois, in 1833, I obtained, through a friend from the East, some raspberries sold to me as the 'Red Antwerp.' I do not know or believe that there was at that time any other red raspberry within one hundred miles of this place. Indeed, I have never seen a native wild red raspberry in the State, though it may be there are some. I found the Antwerp would not stand our climate, but by extreme care I protected it one winter, and it bore some fruit. I conceived the idea of amusing my leisure hours from college duty by raising new seedling raspberries, strawberries, etc., that would be adapted to the climate of the State. I had only a small garden spot, no particular knowledge of the business, and no interest in it outside of the public good. I read upon the subject, as far as I then could, and planted and nursed my seedlings. Out of hundreds or thousands sown, I got one good early strawberry, which had a local run for a time; one fair blackberry, but no grapes or raspberries that seemed worth anything. The seeds of the raspberries were sown in a bed back of my house, and the shoots reserved were all nurtured on the same bed. After I supposed them to be a failure, I set out an arbor vitae hedge directly across the raspberry bed, making some effort to destroy the canes so that the little cedars might grow. Sometimes, when they were in the way of the cedars they were hoed out. If any of them bore berries, the fowls doubtless destroyed them, or the children ate them before they ripened, until the cedars got so high as to give them protection. Then the children found the ripe fruit, and reported it to me. I have not the least doubt but this raspberry came from a seed of the plants obtained from the East as the Red Antwerp. The original canes may have been false to name, or a mixture of the true and false. Whatever they were, they bore good, red berries, which I supposed to be Antwerps; but the canes were so tender as to be worthless. It is wholly impossible that the new variety should have come from any other seed than that sown by me where the vitae hedge now stands."

This letter is very interesting in showing how curiously some of our best varieties originate. Moreover, it suggests a dilemma. How is it possible that an Antwerp—one of the most tender varieties—could have been the parent of the hardiest known raspberry? How could a sort having every characteristic of our native R. Strigosus spring direct from R. Idoeus?

I have been familiar with the Antwerps all my life, and can see no trace of them in this hardy berry. Mr. A. S. Fuller writes to me, "The Turner is a true native—R. Strigosus;" and Mr. Charles Downing holds the same opinion. Hence I am led to believe that there was a native variety among the plants the professor obtained from the East, or that a seed of a native was dropped among the cedars by a bird, or brought thither in the roots of the cedars. Be this as it may, Professor Turner's good motives have been rewarded and he has given the public an excellent raspberry.

In connection with this subject, Mr. Fuller added the following fact, which opens to the amateur a very interesting field for experiment: "If there is any doubt in regard to such matters, raise a few seedlings of the variety, and if it is a cross or hybrid, a part of the seedlings will revert back to each parent, or so near them that there will be no difficulty in determining that there was a mixture of blood. If all our so-called hybrid fruits were thus tested, we would then know more of their true parentage." In the sunny laboratory of the garden, therefore, Nature's chemistry will resolve these juicy compounds back into their original constituents.

The Highland Hardy, or Native, also belongs to this species, and is quite a favorite still in some localities; but it has had its day, I think. Its extreme earliness has made it profitable in some regions; but its softness, small size and wretched flavor should banish it from cultivation as soon as possible.

There are others, like the Thwack, Pearl, and Bristol; they are but second rate, being inferior in most regions to the Brandywine, which they resemble.

In my opinion, the chief value of R. Strigosus is to be found in two facts. In the first place, they endure the severe Northern winters, and—what is of far more consequence—their best representatives thrive in light soils, and their tough foliage does not burn under the hot sun. It thus becomes the one species of red raspberry that can be raised successfully in the South, and from it, as a hardy stock, we should seek to develop the raspberries of the future.