R, fruticosus is the best-known European species, but neither has it, as far as I can discover, been the source of any varieties worthy of favor. It is said to have a peculiar flavor, that produces satiety at once. The blackberry, therefore, is exceptional, in that we have no fine foreign varieties, and Mr. Fuller writes that he cannot find "any practical information in regard to their culture in any European work on gardening."
The "bramble" is quite fully treated in Mr. R. Thompson's valuable English work, but I find little to interest the American reader. He suggests that the several native species that he describes are capable of great improvement, but I cannot learn that such effort has ever been made successfully. I do not know of any reason why our fine varieties will not thrive abroad, under conditions that accord with their nature.
In America there are innumerable varieties, since Nature produces wild seedlings on every hillside, and not a few seeds have been planted by horticulturists in the hope of originating a prize berry. Nature appears to have had the better fortune, thus far, for our best varieties are chance seedlings, found growing wild.
It is not so many years since the blackberry was regarded as merely a bramble in this country, as it now is abroad, and people were content with such fruit as the woods and fields furnished. Even still, in some localities, this supply is so abundant as to make the culture of the blackberry unprofitable. But, a number of years since, Mr. Lewis A. Seacor led to better things, by observing on the roadside, in the town of New Rochelle, Westchester County, New York, a bush flourishing where Nature had planted it. This variety took kindly to civilization, and has done more to introduce this fruit to the garden than all other kinds together. Mr. Donald GK Mitchell, in his breezy out-of-door book, "My Farm at Edgewood," gives its characteristics so admirably that I am tempted to quote him:
"The New Rochelle or Lawton Blackberry has been despitefully spoken of by many; first, because the market fruit is generally bad, being plucked before it is fully ripened; and next, because, in rich, clayey grounds, the briers, unless severely cut back, grow into a tangled, unapproachable forest, with all the juices exhausted in wood. But upon a soil moderately rich, a little gravelly and warm, protected from winds, served with occasional top-dressings and good hoeings, the Lawton bears magnificent burdens. Even then, if you wish to enjoy the richness of the fruit, you must not be hasty to pluck it. When the children say, with a shout, 'The blackberries are ripe!' I know they are black only, and I can wait. When the children report, 'The birds are eating the berries!' I know I can wait. But when they say, 'The bees are on the berries!' I know they are at their ripest. Then, with baskets, we sally out; I taking the middle rank, and the children the outer spray of boughs. Even now we gather those only which drop at the touch; these, in a brimming saucer, with golden Alderney cream and a soupcon of powdered sugar, are Olympian nectar; they melt before the tongue can measure their full soundness, and seem to be mere bloated bubbles of forest honey."
Notwithstanding this eloquent plea and truthful statement, the Lawton is decidedly on the wane. It is so liable to be winter-killed, even with best of care, and its fruit is go unpalatable, in its half-ripe condition, that it has given place to a more successful rival, the Kittatinny—discovered in Warren County, K. J., growing in a forest near the mountains, whose Indian name has become a household word from association with this most delicious fruit. Mr. Wolverton, in finding it, has done more for the world than if he had opened a gold mine. Under good culture, the fruit is very large; sweet, rich, and melting, when fully ripe, but rather sour and hard when immature. It reaches its best condition if allowed to ripen fully on the vines; but the majority of pickers use their hands only, and no more think of making nice discriminations than of questioning nature according to the Baconian method. They gather all that are black, or nearly so; but if this half-ripe fruit is allowed to stand in some cool, dry place for about twelve hours, Kittatinny berries may be had possessing nearly all their luscious qualities. The plant is an upright and very vigorous grower, exceedingly productive if soil and culture are suitable. Its leaves are long-pointed, "finely and unevenly serrate." The season of fruiting is medium, continuing from four to six weeks, if moisture is maintained. Both of these varieties are derived from the Rubus villosus species.
In contrast is the next-best known sort, Wilson's Early—having many of the characteristics of the Dewberry, or running blackberry, and, therefore, representing the second species described, R. Canadensis. Whether it is merely a sport from this species, or a hybrid between it and the first-named or high blackberry, cannot be accurately known, I imagine; for it also was found growing wild by Mr. John Wilson, of Burlington, N. J. Under high culture, and with increasing age, the plants become quite erect and stocky growers, but the ends of the cane are drooping. Frequently, they trail along the ground, and root at the tips, like the common Dewberry; and they rarely grow so stocky but that they can be bent over and covered with earth or litter, as is the case with the tender raspberries. It is well that this is possible, for it has so little power of resisting frost that a winter of ordinary severity kills the canes in the latitude of New York. I have always covered mine, and thus secured, at slight expense, a sure and abundant crop. The fruit is earlier than the Kittatinny, and tends to ripen altogether in about ten days. These advantages, with its large size and firmness, make it a valuable market berry in New Jersey, where hundreds of acres of it have been planted, and where it is still very popular. Throughout the North and West, it has been found too tender for cultivation, unless protected. In flavor, it is inferior to the Kittatinny or Snyder.
For many years, the great desideratum has been a perfectly hardy blackberry, and this want has at last been met in part by the Snyder, a Western variety that seems able to endure, without the slightest injury, the extremes of temperature common in the Northwestern States. From Nebraska eastward, I have followed its history, and have never heard of its being injured by frost. It originated on, or in the vicinity of, Mr. Snyder's farm, near La Porte, Ind., about 1851, and is an upright, exceedingly vigorous, and stocky grower, a true child of the R. vittosus. Its one fault is that it is not quite large enough to compete with those already described. On moist land, with judicious pruning, it could be made to approach them very nearly, however, while its earliness, hardiness, fine flavor, and ability to grow and yield abundantly almost anywhere, will lead to an increasing popularity. For home use, size is not so important as flavor and certainty of a crop. It is also more nearly ripe when first black than any other kind that I have seen; its thorns are straight, and therefore less vicious. I find that it is growing steadily in favor; and where the Kittatinny is winter-killed, this hardy new variety leaves little cause for repining.
There are several kinds that are passing out of cultivation, and not a few new candidates for favor; but the claims of superiority are as yet too doubtful to be recognized. Mr. James Wilson, of West Point, N. Y., found some magnificent wild berries growing on Crow Nest Mountain. The bush that bore them is now in my garden, and if it should produce fruit having a flavor equal to Rodman Drake's poem, Mr. Wilson has, then, found something more real than a "Culprit Fay." Occasionally, a thornless blackberry is heralded, and not a few have reason to recall the "Hoosac," which was generally found, I think, about as free from fruit as thorns. We have, also, the horticultural paradox of white blackberries, in the "Crystal," introduced by Mr. John B. Orange, of Albion, Illinois, and some others. They have little value, save as curiosities.