The grapes of New York

by U. P. Hedrick

“There are two species more, that are common to the whole country, some of which are black, and some blue on the outside, and some white. They grow upon vast, large vines, and bear very plentifully. The nice observer might, perhaps, distinguish them into several kinds, because they differ in color, size and relish; but I shall divide them only into two, viz: the early, and the late ripe. The early ripe common grape is much larger, sweeter, and better than the other. Of these some are quite black, and others blue, and some white or yellow; some also ripen three weeks, or a month before the other. The distance of their ripening, is from the latter end of August, to the latter end of October. The late ripe common grapes are less than any other, neither are they so pleasant to the taste. They hang commonly to the latter end of November, or till Christmas; all that I have seen of these are black. Of the former of these two sorts, the French refugees at the Monacan Town made a sort of claret, though they were gathered off of the wild vines in the woods. I was told by a very good judge who tasted it, that it was a pleasant, strong, and full-bodied wine. From which we may conclude, that if the wine was but tolerably good, when made of the wild grape, which is shaded by the woods from the sun, it would be much better, if produced of the same grape cultivated in a regular vineyard.”

Beverly could write with some authority on grapes for he was at that time much interested in the general question of grape-growing. Besides he was of an inquiring mind and seems to have been an untiring experimenter with the agricultural plants of his own and other lands. Charles Campbell in his introduction to the reprint of Beverly’s Virginia in 1855, gives the following account of a vineyard planted by the historian: “John Fontaine, son of a Huguenot refugee, having come over from England to Virginia, visited Robert Beverly, the author of this work, in the year 1715, at his residence, near the head of the Mattapony. Here he cultivated several varieties of the grape, native and French, in a vineyard of about three acres, situated upon the side of a hill, from which he made in that year four hundred gallons of wine. He went to very considerable expense in this enterprise, having constructed vaults of a wine-cellar. But Fontaine comparing his method with that used in Spain, deemed it erroneous, and that his vineyard was not rightly managed. The home-made wine Fontaine drank heartily of, and found it good, but he was satisfied by the flavor of it that Beverly did not understand how to make it properly. * * * He had laid a sort of wager with some of the neighboring planters, he giving them one guinea in hand, and they promising to pay him each ten guineas, if in seven years he should cultivate a vineyard that would yield at one vintage seven hundred gallons of wine. Beverly thereupon paid them down one hundred pounds, and Fontaine entertained no doubt but that in the next year he would win the thousand guineas.” And Beverly won the guineas.

Bolling in his Sketch of Vine Culture, 1765, mentions native grapes only as they indicate to him the adaptability of the country for the European sorts. Yet he suggests, and was probably the first to do so, the possibility of hybridization between American and the European species. He says: “Would it not be well for us to attempt the raising of new varieties, by marrying our native with foreign vines?” He then gives a plan whereby the vines may be planted as to “so interlock their branches as that they shall be completely blended together.” He says, “they will then feed from the blossoms of each other, and when the fruit is ripe, and if seeds are saved from it and sown in nurseries, * * * it is probable that we shall obtain other varieties better adapted to our climates and better for wine and table, than either of those kinds from which they sprung.” Beyond these brief mentions Bolling does not discuss native grapes, though he tells of the origin of the Bland grape, which we now know to be a native, and wrongly says that it grew from the seed of a European raisin.

Antill, in his Essay on the Cultivation of the Vine, a treatise discussed in the previous chapter, gives no varieties of native grapes, though he says that he had just entered upon a trial of them. His brief discussion of American vines is well worth quoting in full as showing the status of the species known to Antill just previous to the Revolutionary War:[59]

“The reason for my being silent about vines that are natives of America, is, that I know but little of them, having but just entered upon a trial of them, when my very ill state of health forbade me to proceed: From what little observation I have been able to make, I look upon them to be much more untractable than those of Europe, they will undergo a hard struggle indeed, before they will submit to a low and humble state, a state of abject slavery. They are very hardy and will stand a frame, for they brave the severest storms and winter blasts, they shrink not at snow, ice, hail or rain; the wine they will make, I imagine from the austerity of their taste, will be strong and masculine.

“The Fox-Grape, whose berries are large and round, is divided into three sorts, the white, the dark red and the black; the berries grow but thin upon the bunches, which are plain without shoulders. They delight most in a rich sandy lome, here they grow very large and the berries are sweetest, but they will grow in any grounds, wet or dry; those that grow on high dry grounds generally become white, and the colour alters to a dark red or black, according to the lowness and wetness of the ground; the situation I think must greatly affect the Wine, in strength, goodness and colour; the berries are generally ripe the beginning of September, and when fully ripe they soon fall away; thus much I have observed as they grow wild. What alteration they may undergo, or how much they may be improved by proper soils and due cultivation I cannot say.

“There is a small black Grape, a size bigger than the winter Grape, that is ripe in September; it is pleasant to eat, and makes a very pretty Wine, which I have drank of, it was four years old, and seemed to be the better for its age; the colour was amber, owing to the want of knowing how to extract the tincture; this Grape is seldom to be found; there is a Vine of them near John Taylor, Esq; at Middletown, Monmouth, and there are some of them in Mr. Livingston’s Vineyard at Piscataqua in New-Jersey. I think they are well worth propagating.

“The frost or winter Grape is known to every body, both the bunches and berries are small, and yield but little juice, but the richness of the Wine may make up for the smallness of the quantity; the taste of the Grape is austere till pretty hard frosts come, and then it takes a favourable turn and becomes very sweet and agreeable; this Vine shoots forth great numbers of slender branches, and might do very well for the south and southeast sides of a summer-house or close walk, if all the useless and barren branches were cut away.

“The Vines of America are fit for strong high espaliers, but if I mistake not, he must watch them narrowly, must take away every unnecessary and unprofitable branch, and trim them sharp and close, that means to keep them within bounds.”

Peter Legaux, in his patriotic address “To the People of the American States,”[60] wherein he admonishes them the culture of the vine is a national duty, was intent, as we have seen, on making the Old World grape grow in America—even if it were necessary to palm off an American sort as an Old World kind. He dismisses American grapes with even less attention than Antill gave them, his sole notice of them being embodied in the remarks that “with skillful management many of them would make good and wholesome wines” and that “if the native grapes of America are not the most eligible for vineyards, others are now within the reach of its inhabitants.” Indirectly he was, however, of great service in distributing the first native varieties, for as Rafinesque says, “by calling our Bland and Alexander grapes Madeira and Cape, he was instrumental in diffusing them among those who would not have noticed nor bought them if known as native vines.”