When the fire is lighted it is fanned until it gets a fine red glare, and the smoke is all gone off; being every now and then stirred, and the coals brought into the centre, so as to leave the outer edge low. When the leaves are put into the drying basket, they are gently separated by lifting them up with the fingers of both hands extended far apart, and allowing them to fall down again; they are placed three or four inches deep on the sieve, leaving a passage in the centre for the hot air to pass. Before it is put over the fire, the drying basket receives a smart slap with both hands in the act of lifting it up, which is done to shake down any leaves that might otherwise drop through the sieve, or to prevent them from falling into the fire and occasioning a smoke, which would affect and spoil the tea. This slap on the basket is invariably applied throughout the stages of tea manufacture. There is always a large basket underneath to receive the small leaves that fall, which are afterwards collected, dried, and added to the other tea; in no case are the baskets or sieves allowed to touch or remain on the ground, but always laid on a receiver, with three legs. After the leaves have bean half-dried in the drying-basket, and while they are still soft, they are taken off the fire and put into large open-worked baskets, and then put on the shelf, in order that the tea may improve in color.
Next day the leaves are all sorted into large, middling, and small; sometimes there are four sorts. All these, the Chinese informed me, become so many different kinds of teas; the smallest leaves they call Pha-ho, the second Pow-chong, the third Souchong, and the fourth, or the largest leaves, Zoy-chong. After this assortment they are again put on the sieve in the drying-basket (taking care not to mix the sorts), and on the fire, as on the preceding day; but now very little more than will cover the bottom of the sieve is put in at one time; the same care of the fire is taken as before, and the same precaution of tapping the drying basket every now and then. The tea is taken off the fire with the nicest care, for fear of any particles of the tea falling into it. Whenever the drying-basket is taken off, it is put on the receiver, the sieve in the drying-basket taken out, the tea turned over, the sieve replaced, the tap given, and the basket placed again over the fire. As the tea becomes crisp, it is taken out and thrown into a large receiving-basket, until all the quantity on hand has become alike dried and crisp, from which basket it is again removed into the drying-basket, but now in much larger quantities. It is then piled up eight and ten inches high on the sieve in the drying-basket; in the centre a small passage is left for the hot air to ascend; the fire that was before bright and clear has now ashes thrown on it to deaden its effect, and the shakings that have been collected are put on the top of all; the tap is given, and the basket, with the greatest care, is put over the fire. Another basket is placed over the whole, to throw back any heat that may ascend. Now and then it is taken off, and put on the receiver; the hands, with the fingers wide apart, are run down the sides of the basket to the sieve, and the tea gently turned over, the passage in the centre again made, &c., and the basket again placed on the fire. It is from time to time examined, and when the leaves have become so crisp that they break by the slightest pressure of the fingers, it is taken off, when the tea is ready. All the different kinds of leaves underwent the same operation. The tea is now, little by little, put into boxes, and first pressed down with the hands and then with the feet (clean stockings having been previously put on).
There is a small room inside of the tea-house, seven cubits square, and five high, having bamboos laid across on the top to support a network of bamboo, and the sides of the room smeared with mud to exclude the air. When there is wet weather, and the leaves cannot be dried in the sun, they are laid out on the top of this room, on the network, on an iron pan, the same as is used to heat the leaves; some fire is put into it, either of grass or bamboo, so that the flame may ascend high; the pan is put on a square wooden frame, that has wooden rollers on its legs, and pushed round and round this little room by one man, while another feeds the fire, the leaves on the top being occasionally turned; when they are a little withered, the fire is taken away, and the leaves brought down and manufactured into tea, in the same manner as if it had been dried in the sun. But this is not a good plan, and never had recourse to if it can possibly be avoided."
In 1810, a number of tea plants were introduced into Brazil, with a colony of Chinese to superintend their culture. The plantation was formed near Rio Janeiro and occupied several acres. It did not, however, answer the expectations formed of it, the shrubs became stunted, cankered and moss grown, and the Chinese finally abandoned them. The culture was again tried in 1817. The plantations lie between the equator and 10 deg. south latitude, nearly parallel with Java, and of course are exposed to the same intemperate climate, and suffer in a similar manner. In addition to these physical disabilities, the enterprise has had to contend with the natural indolence of the natives, the universal repugnance to labor, the crushing effect of committing so important a work to the superintendence of slaves and overseers, the amazing fertility of the soil, the extent of unappropriated land, the ease with which subsistence can be obtained and the low degree of personal enterprise. These are frowning features, and would rather seem to indicate a failure, before the attempt at cultivation was made. But, nevertheless, the plant does nourish to some extent, even in Brazil, under all the disparaging circumstances which surround it. From the Brazilian Consul General, I learn that although the plant for some years after its introduction received but little attention and was almost abandoned, yet within the last few years the cultivation has revived and is now prosecuted with energy and with a corresponding success. Some of the large and wealthy land proprietors of Brazil have directed their attention to tea culture, and one gentleman has given up his coffee plantation and directed his attention exclusively to the cultivation of the tea plant. The market of Rio Janeiro is said to be largely and almost entirely supplied with tea of domestic growth, and the public mind is awakened to the prominent fact, that no plant cultivated in Brazil is more profitable and none is deserving more decided attention.
Experimental cultivation of the tea plant in Brazil.—I now proceed to notice the report of M. Guillemin, presented in 1839 to the French Minister of agriculture and commerce, on the culture and preparation of the tea plant in Brazil—in a climate of the southern hemisphere just equivalent to that of Cuba in the northern. The report enters very minutely into the incidents of temperature and cultivation, and cannot fail to strike the attention when disclosing the important fact, that the tea plant grows luxuriantly with the coffee and other valuable plants of the equatorial regions, and even on low-lying lands, on a level with the sea, and exposed to the full rays of a burning sun.
"As the tea shrub," says M. Guillemin, "is grown in several plantations about two days' journey distant from Rio, in different directions, I hired a lodging at St. Theresa, sufficiently contiguous to all the establishments I meant to visit, and further recommended by having a small garden attached to the house, where I could deposit the growing plants of tea, and sow seeds. During the month of November, except when hindered by slight indispositions incidental to the Brazilian climate, I pursued my researches, and principally in the charming valleys of the Tijuka and Gavia mountains. There, together with coffee, their principal product, the most valuable plants of the equatorial region are cultivated.
In the middle of November I had an opportunity of observing the method pursued when culling the tea, which is performed by black slaves, chiefly women and children. They carefully selected the tenderest and pale-green leaves, nipping off with their nails the young leaf bud, just below where the first or second leaf was unfolded. One whole field had already undergone this operation; nothing but tea shrubs stripped of their foliage remained. The inspector assured me that the plant received no injury from this process, and that the harvest of leaves was to become permanent by carefully regulating it, so that the foliage should have grown again on the first stripped shrubs at the period when the leaves of the last plant were pulled off. About 12,000 tea shrubs are grown in this garden: they are regularly planted in quincunxes, and stand about one metre distant from each other; the greater number are stunted and shabby looking, probably owing to the aspect of the ground, which lies low, on the level of the sea, and exposed to the full rays of a burning sun; perhaps the quality of the soil may have something to do with it, though this is apparently similar to what prevails in the province of Rio Janeiro. This soil, which is highly argillaceous, and strongly tinged with tritoxyde of iron, is formed by the decomposition of gneiss or granite rocks. The flat situation of this tea ground is unfavorable to the improvement of the soil, for the heavy rains which wash away the superfluous sand from slanting situations, of course only consolidate more strongly the remaining component parts, where the land lies perfectly level, and thus the tea plants suffer from this state of soil.
The kindness of M. de Brandao, director of the Botanic Garden, induced him to invite me, shortly after I had seen the above described tea ground, that I might inspect all the operations for the preparation of tea. I found that the picking of the leaves had been commenced very early in the morning, and two kilogrammes were pulled that were still wet with dew. These were deposited in a well-polished iron vase, the shape being that of a very broad flat pan, and set on a brick furnace, where a brisk wooden fire kept the temperature nearly up to that of boiling water. A negro, after carefully washing his hands, kept continually stirring the leaves in all directions, till their external dampness was quite evaporated, and the leaves acquired the softness of linen rag, and a small pinch of them, when rolled in the hollow of the hand, became a little ball that would not unroll. In this state the mass of tea was divided into two portions, and a negro took each and set them on a hurdle, formed of strips of bamboo, laid at right angles, where they shook and kneaded the leaves in all directions for a quarter of an hour, an operation which requires habit to be properly performed, and on which much of the beauty of the product depends. It is impossible to describe this process; the motion of the hands is rapid and very irregular, and the degree of pressure requisite varies according to circumstances; generally speaking, the young negro women are considered more clever at this part of the work than older persons. As this process of rolling and twisting the leaves goes on, their green juice is drained off through the hurdle, and it is essential that the tea be perfectly divested of the moisture, which is acrid, and even corrosive, the bruising and kneading being especially designed to break the parenchyma of the leaf, and permit the escape of the sap.
When the leaves have been thus twisted and rolled, they are replaced in the great iron pan, and the temperature raised till the hand can no longer bear the heat at the bottom. For upwards of an hour the negroes are then constantly employed in separating, shaking, and throwing the foliage up and down, in order to facilitate the dessication, and much neatness and quickness of hand were requisite, that the manipulators might neither burn themselves nor allow the masses of leaves to adhere to the hot bottom of the pan. It is easy to see that, if the pan was placed within another pan filled with boiling water, and the leaves were stirred with an iron spatula, much trouble might be obviated. Still, the rolling and drying of the leaves were successfully performed; they became more and more crisp, and preserved their twisted shape, except some few which seemed too old and coriaceous to submit to be rolled up. The tea was then placed on a sieve, with wide apertures of regular sizes, and formed of flat strips of bamboo. The best rolled leaves, produced from the tips of the buds and the tenderest leaves, passed through this sieve, and were subsequently fanned, in order to separate any unrolled fragments which might have passed through them; this produce was called Imperial, or Uchim Tea. It was again laid in the pan till it acquired the leaden grey tint, which proved its perfect dryness, and any defective leaf which had escaped the winnowing and sifting was picked out by hand. The residue, which was left from the first fanning, was submitted to all the operations of winnowing, sifting, and scorching, and it then afforded the Fine Hyson Tea of commerce; while the same operations performed on the residuum of it yielded the Common Hyson; and the refuse of the third quality again afforded the Coarse Hyson.—Finally, the broken and unrolled foliage, which were rejected in the last sittings, furnish what is called Family Tea, and the better kind of which is called Chato, and the inferior Chuto. The latter sort is never sold, but kept for consumption in the families of the growers.
Such is the mode of preparation pursued at Rio Janeiro, though I must add that the process employed at the Botanic Garden being most carefully performed in order to serve as a model for private cultivators of tea, the produce is superior to the generality, so that we dare not judge of all Brazilian tea by what is raised at the garden of Rio. I was also assured, that at Saint Paul each grower had his own peculiar method, influencing materially the quality of the tea, which decided me to visit that province, where I hoped to gain valuable information respecting the culture and fabrication of tea, especially considered as an article of commerce.