CHAPTER IV.

Then long may here the ale-charged Tankards shine, Long may the Hop plant triumph o’er the Vine. _Brasenose College Shrovetide Poem._ The Hop for his profit I thus do exalt. It strengtheneth drink, and it favoureth Malt; And being well brewed, long kept it will last, And drawing abide—if ye draw not too fast. _Thomas Tusser._ _USE AND IMPORTANCE OF HOPS IN BEER: THEIR INTRODUCTION AND HISTORY. — HOP-GROWERS’ TROUBLES. — MEDICINAL QUALITIES. — ECONOMICAL USES. — HOP-PICKERS._ The hops used in beer-brewing are the female flowers of the hop plant known to botanists as the _Humulus lupulus_ of Linnæus. At first sight it may seem strange that hops and wolves should have anything in common, but it has been explained that the word _lupulus_ comes from the name by which the Romans called the hop plant—_Lupus Salictarius_—the idea being that the hop was as destructive among the willows (where it grew) as a wolf among sheep. Though hops are now staple articles of a large commerce, and largely cultivated in England, America, Belgium, France, and our colonies, some few hundred years ago their valuable qualities were little known in this country. How, when, and where the flowers of the hop plant were first used to give to beer its delicious flavour and keeping qualities, is not {66} accurately known. Pliny, in his _Natural History_, states that the Germans preserved ale with hops, and there is a Rabbinical tradition, referring to still earlier times, to the effect that the Jews, during their captivity in Babylon, found the use of hopped ale a protection against their old enemy, leprosy. In a letter of donations, the great King Pepin uses the word “Humuloria,” meaning hop gardens. Mesne, an Arabian physician, who wrote about the year 845, also mentions hops; and Basil Valentine, an alchemist of the 14th century, specifically refers to the use of the hop in beer. Dr. Thudichum, in his pamphlet, _Alcoholic Drinks_, tells us that in early days of beer production wild hops only were used, as is the practice at the present day in Styria, but that in some foreign countries the plant has been largely cultivated for nearly a thousand years. It is a well-known fact that in the eighth and ninth centuries, hop gardens, called Humuloria or Humuleta, existed in France and Germany. That the hop was known to the English before the Conquest in some form or other, is proved by the reference to the hymele, or hop plant, in the Anglo-Saxon version of the _Herbarium_, of Apuleius. Although no trace of the word hymele now remains in our every-day language, it is found in Danish as “humle,” and is only the English form of the Latin _humulus_. The _Herbarium_ just mentioned contains a remarkable passage with reference to “hymele.” “This wort,” it says, “is to that degree laudable that men mix it with their usual drinks.” The usual drinks of the English were undoubtedly malt liquors, and this passage would go far to show that even in Saxon times the hop was used in English brewing. Cockayne, the learned editor of _Saxon Leechdoms_, is inclined to this opinion, and he instances in confirmation of it that special mention is made of the hedge-hymele, as though there existed at that time a cultivated hop from which it had to be distinguished; he also cites the name Hymel-tun, in Worcestershire (now Himbleton), which he states is mentioned in Anglo-Saxon deeds, and which could hardly have signified anything less than hop yard. The word _hopu_ (_i.e._, hops) also occurs in Saxon documents. _Ewe-hymele_ is mentioned in _Saxon Leechdoms_, and would probably signify the female hop. In the year 822 there is a record that the millers of Corbay were freed by the abbot from all labours relating to hops, and a few years later hops are mentioned by Ludovicus Germanicus. The introduction of hops into England has been generally assigned to the early part of the sixteenth century. The old but unreliable distich, {67} Hops, Reformation, bays and beer Came into England all in one year,[35] points to a period subsequent to 1520 as the time when the great improvement of adding hops to malt liquors was first practised in this country. This rhyme probably refers to the settling of certain Flemings in Kent, to be mentioned anon, which no doubt gave a great impulse to the use of hops; it cannot well refer to their first introduction, as they were known in England for many years previously and were used in beer-brewing nearly a century before the Reformation. [35] Two other versions are to be found: “Hops and turkeys, carp and beer Came into England all in one year;” and “Turkeys, carps, hops, pickerel, and beer Came into England all in one year.” The couplets also err as to pickerel, which are mentioned in mediæval glossaries at a date long before the Reformation. In that curious old work the _Promptorium Parvulorum_ (1440), which is, in fact, an old English-Latin dictionary, occur some passages which, when taken in conjunction with the London Records of a slightly later date, seem to show that the introduction of hops into English brewing (excepting their possible use in Saxon times) should be assigned to a period a little before the middle of the fifteenth century. The word “hoppe” is defined as “sede for beyre. Humulus secundum extraneos.” “Bere” is defined as “a drynke. Humulina, vel humuli potus, aut cervisia hummulina.” The inference to be drawn from these passages is that hops and beer, in the sense of hopped ale, were known in England some time previous to the year 1440. The compiler, however, shows by his definition of “bere” as a “drynke,” that the word required some explanation, for when he mentions “ale,” he simply gives the Latin equivalent, “cervisia.” He certainly regarded beer as an interloper, as shown by his note on ale, “Et nota bene quod est _potus Anglorum_.” Four years after the date of the publication of the Promptorium, William Lounde and Richard Veysey were appointed inspectors or surveyors of the “bere-bruers” of the City of London, as distinguished from the ale-brewers who were at this time a company governed by a master and wardens. Ten years later an {68} ordinance for the government of the beer-brewers was sanctioned by the Lord Mayor. From this date the City Records contain frequent mention of the beer-brewers as distinct from the ale-brewers. However, beer, “the son of ale,” as an old writer calls it, did not rapidly attain popularity. Ten years after the date last referred to, the beer-brewers petitioned the Lord Mayor and “Worshipfull soveraignes the Aldermen” of the City of London, in these terms:—“To the full honourable Lord the Maire, etc. Shewen mekely unto youre good Lordshipp and maistershippes, the goode folke of this famous citee the which usen Bere-bruyng within the same, that where all mistiers and craftys of the sd citee have rules and ordenances by youre grete auctoritees for the common wele of this honourable citee made, and profite of the same craftys,” but the petitioners have none such rules, and therefore the citizens are liable to be imposed upon “in measure of barell, kilderkyns and firkyns, _and in hoppes and other greynes_ the which to the said mistiere apperteynen. . . . It is surmysed upon them that often tymes they make their bere of unseasonable malt the which is of little prise and unholsome for mannes body for their singular availe, forasmuch as the comon peple _for lacke of experience cannot know the perfitnesse of bere as wele as of the ale_,” the petitioners pray that certain regulations of the trade may be established by authority. Passing over another period of twenty years, during which the City Records contain nothing to show whether hops and beer advanced or declined in popularity, we find that in the first year of Richard III. a petition was presented to Lord Mayor Billesdon, by the Brewers’ Company, showing “that whereas by the sotill and crafty means of foreyns[36] dwelling withoute the franchises . . . . . a deceivable and unholsome fete in bruyng of ale within the said citee nowe of late is founde and practised, that is to say, in occupying and puttyng of hoppes and other things in the said ale, contrary to the good and holesome manner of bruynge of ale of old tyme used, . . . to the great deceite and hurt of the King’s liege people. . . . Pleas it therefore your saide good lordshyppe to forbid the putting into ale of any hops, herbs, or any other like thing, but onely licour, malte and yeste.” The petition is granted and a penalty of 6s. 8d. is laid on every barrel of ale so brewed contrary to the ancient use. This early use of the technical {69} term “licour,” or liquor, instead of water is noteworthy. We learn by a note in the Letter-book that the fine on putting hops into ale was shortly afterwards reduced to 3s. 4d. the barrel, while any other kind of adulteration is still to subject the offender to the full fine of 6s. 8d. It will have been observed that it is not the making of _beer_ which is forbidden, but the putting of hops into _ale_, and selling the drink as ale. There is abundant evidence to show that beer continued to be made and sold with the sanction of the authorities, and that the beer-brewers, many of whom at this time were Dutchmen, practised a separate craft from that of the ale-brewers. Two years after the date of the last petition a regulation was made that no beer-brewer is to be “affered” (fined) more than 6s. 8d., nor an ale-brewer more than two shillings, for breaking the assize. The oath of the ale-searchers contains the following passage:—“Ye shall swear . . . to search and assay . . . that the ale be holsom, weell soden and able for mannes body, and made with none other stuff but only with holsom and clere ale-yest, watyr and malt, and such as you find unholsom for mannes body or brewed with any other thing except with watyr and malt, be it with rosen, _hoppes_, _bere-yest_, or any other craft, . . .” you shall duly report for punishment. In the same year it is recorded that the _beer-brewers_ were ordered to use “gode clene, sweete, holsom greyne and _hoppes_,” and the rulers of the _beer-brewers_ are to have powers of inspection of hops and other grains. [36] A “foreyn” was one who was not a freeman of the City—no reference to nationality. Prosecutions for the use of hops were frequent, but they were for putting hops into _ale_, and not for brewing beer. In the twelfth year of Henry VII., John Barowe was presented by the wardens of the brewers because he brewed _ale_ with _beer-yeast_, “_quod est corpori humano insalubre_.” Nine years later Robert Dodworth, brewer’s servant, confessed that he had brewed “a burthen of _ale_ in the house of his master in Fleet Street with hops, contrary to the laws and laudable acts and customs of the city.” In the tenth year of Henry VIII., William Shepherd, brewer’s servant to Philip Cooper, “occupying the feat of bruing,” made a deposition that he had “once since Michaelmas last brewed _ale_ with hops, but that his master knew not of it,” but that he had heard that other servants had brewed with hops, “and that was the cause why he brewed with hoppes, and more he would not say.” Philip Cooper, however, was evidently suspected, for in the same records we find that he was compelled to bring into the Court “a standing cup with a cover of gylt with three red hearts in the bottom of the cup to stand to the order of the Court touching the brewing with hoppes.” On {70} payment of a fine of five shillings, his gage is ordered to be returned to him. Many other passages could be quoted from the City Records in support of the view that beer-brewing was not forbidden, but only the adulteration, as it was considered, of the old English ale with an admixture of hops. We have dwelt somewhat fully upon this part of the subject, as there appears to be an almost universal misconception as to the date of the introduction of hops into England, and as to their use having been for some time altogether prohibited by the law of the land. The only authority for this last mentioned idea, seems to be the statement of Fuller, in his _Worthies of England_, that hops were forbidden as the result of a petition which was presented in the time of Henry VI. against “the wicked weed called hops.” No statute to this effect is in existence, no record is to be found in the rolls of Parliament of any such petition, and the statement is in opposition to the evidence we have been able to collect on the subject. About the year 1524 a large number of Flemish immigrants settled in Kent, cultivated hops and brewed beer, and soon caused that county to become famous for its hop gardens and the excellence of their produce. To these strangers is perhaps due the chief credit of having enlightened the British mind on the subject of bitter beer, and their advent is probably the event pointed to in the old couplet already quoted. Among the numerous officials appointed to enforce the regulations of the City, were persons called hop-searchers, whose duty it was to search for defective hops, which, when found were burnt. Wriothesley’s Chronicle mentions that “on the 10th daie of September, 1551, was burned in Finsburie Field XXXI sacke and pokettes of hopps in the afternoune, being nought, and not holsome for man’s bodie, and condemned by an Act made by my Lord Maior and his bretheren the aldermen the 10th daie of September, at which court six comeners of the Cittie of London were apoynted to be serchers for a hole yeare for the said hopps; and they were sworne the fifth daie of this moneth and made search ymediatlie for the same.” The popular taste is not a thing to be changed in a day, and at that happy period of history when railways, penny posts, newspapers, stump orators and other nineteenth-century methods of enlightenment were unknown and undreamt of, it may well be understood that the knowledge of this great improvement spread but slowly. Not only were the English slow to appreciate what the Flemings had done for them, but they believed that they were like to be poisoned by the new-fangled drink which was not in their eyes to be compared to the sweet and {71} thick, but honest and unsophisticated English ale. The writers of the day are loud in their abuse of beer. In the passages from Andrew Boorde’s _Dyetary_ (1542), quoted in Chapter I. (p. 6), ale is described as being the natural drink of Englishmen, and made of malt and water, while beer, which is composed of malt, hops, and water, is the natural drink of a Dutchman, and of late is much used in England, to the great detriment of many Englishmen. There is a truly insular ring about this. We should like to enlighten old Andrew’s darkness by a draught of sparkling Burton. Boorde undoubtedly expresses the popular opinion of the period, for from Rastall’s _Book of Entries_ we learn that an ale-man brought his action against his Brewer for spoiling his ale, by putting in it a certain _weed_ called a _hopp_, and recovered damages. Even Harry the Eighth, who of all our kings was the greatest lover of good things—and a few bad ones—was blind to the merits of the hop, and enjoined the Royal brewer of Eltham that he put neither hops nor brimstone into the ale. Possibly sulphuring, of which a word or two anon, was then in use; we cannot otherwise account for the mention of brimstone. This was in 1530, only six years after the Flemings had settled in Kent. Abused by medical writers as drink only fit for Dutchmen, objected to by the king, and disliked by the majority of the people, the song-writers of the day, of course, had a good deal to say against the new drink. In the _High and Mightie Commendation of the Virtue of a Pot of Good Ale_, it is hardly surprising to find the following lines:— And in very deed, the hops but a weed Brought over ’gainst law, and here set to sale, Would the law were removed, and no more Beer brewed, But all good men betake them to a pot of good ale. * * * * * But to speak of killing, that am I not willing, For that in a manner were but to rail, But Beer hath its name ’cause it brings to the Bier, Therefore well fare, say I, to a pot of good ale. Too many, I wis, with their deaths proved this, And therefore (if ancient records do not fail) He that first brewed the hop, was rewarded with a rope, And found his Beer far more bitter than Ale. {72} The ale-wives and brewers, however, were wiser than their customers, and, induced also by the fact that their hopped ale went not sour as of yore, stuck to their colours—nailed to a hop pole no doubt—and slowly but surely educated the taste of the people. It was, however, a long process. Henry, in his _History of England_, vol. 6, referring to the Scottish diet about the end of the sixteenth century, writes:— “_Ale_ and gascony wines were the principal liquors; but mead, cyder, and perry were not uncommon. Hops were still scarce, and seldom employed in _Ale_, which was brewed therefore in small quantities, to be drunk while new. At the King’s table _Ale_ was prohibited as unfit for use till _five days old_.” From a whimsical old book, entitled _Wine, Beer, Ale, and Tobacco, a dialogue_, in which the two leading malt liquors of the day (1630) converse, and give their own views on the subject, it appears that even as late as the seventeenth century beer was little known in country districts, though popular in London. Beer is introduced making a pun on his own name; he says to Wine, “Beere leave, sir.” The chief points in Ale’s argument, which is better than that of any of the others, are contained in the following passage:—“You, Wine and Beer, are fain to take up a corner anywhere—your ambition goes no farther than a cellar; the whole house where I am goes by my name, and is called Ale-house. Who ever heard of a Wine-house, or a Beer-house? My name, too, is, of a stately etymology—you must bring forth your latin. Ale, so please you, from alo, which signifieth nourish—I am the choicest and most luscious of potations.” Wine, Beer, and Ale at last compose their differences, each having a certain dominion assigned to him, and join in singing these lines:— Wine.—I, generous Wine am for the court. Beer.—The citie call for Beere. Ale.—But Ale, bonnie Ale, like a lord of the soile. In the country shall domineere. Chorus.—Then let us be merry, wash sorry away, Wine, Beer and Ale shall be drunk this day. In the end Tobacco appears—He arrogates an equality with Wine—“You and I both come out of a pipe.” The reply is, “Prithee go smoke elsewhere.” “Don’t incense me, don’t inflame Tobacco,” he retorts; but is told, “No one fears your puffing—turn over a new _leaf_, Tobacco, most high and mighty Trinidado.” {73} In an old play printed a few years later (1659) it is indicated that ale was still generally made without hops:— Ale is immortal: And, be there no stops In bonny lads quaffing, Can live without hops. If Defoe’s statement on the subject, in his _Tour Through Great Britain_, is correct, it must, indeed, have been many years before the use of hops made any headway in the northern portions of the kingdom. “As to the North of England,” he writes, “they formerly used but few Hops there, their Drink being chiefly pale smooth ale, which required no hops; and consequently they planted no hops in all that part of England North of Trent. . . . But as for some years past, they not only brew great quantities of Beer in the North, but also use hops in the brewing of their ale, much more than they did before, so they all come south of Trent to buy their hops.” In the reign of Edward VI., by the Statute 5 and 6 Ed. VI. c. 5 (repealed 5 Eliz. c. 2), it was enacted that all land formerly in tillage should again be cultivated, excepting “land set with saffron or hops.” This is, we believe, the first mention of hops in the Statute book. The next Act on the subject was one passed in 1603, by which regulations were made for the curing of hops, which process had thenceforward to be carried out under the inspection of the officers of excise. From a petition presented by the Brewers’ Company to Lord Burleigh, a few years previously (1591), we learn that the price of hops was then £3 16s. 8d. to £4 10s. 6d. per cwt., instead of 6s. 8d. as formerly, and was, the Brewers said, in quality well worth three hundredweight of those sold at that time. Hops were evidently coming into favour. We gather from an old receipt that about the end of the century, Beer was made with “40 lbs. of hoppeys to 40 qrs. of grain.” [Illustration: A Perfite Platform of a Hoppe Garden. Of ramming of Poales. “Then with a peece of woode as bigge belowe as the great ende of one of youre Poales, ramme the earth that lieth at the outsyde of the Poale.” Cutting Hoppe Rootes. “When you pull downe your hylles . . . you should undermine them round about.” Of Tying of Hoppes to the Poales. “When your hoppes are growne about one or two foote high, bynde up (with a rushe or grasse) such as decline from the Poales, wynding them as often about the same Poales as you can, and directing them alwayes according to the course of the Sunne.” ] About the earliest English work on the culture of hops is an old black-letter pamphlet published in 1574 “at the Signe of the Starre, in Paternoster Rowe.” It is entitled, “_A Perfite Platforme of a Hoppe Garden_, and necessarie instructions for the making and mayntenance thereof, with notes and rules for reformation of all abuses, commonly practised therein, very necessary and expedient for all men to have, which in any wise have to doe with hops.” The author was one Reynolde Scot, and the little volume is adorned with quaint illustrations, and tastefully designed initial letters. The work is dedicated to {75} “Willyam Lovelace Esquire, Sergeaunt at the Lawe,” whom the author desires to accompany him in a consideration of “a matter of profite, or rather with a poynt of good Husbandrie, (in aparance base and tedious, but in use necessarie and commodious, and in effect pleasant and profitable) (that is to saye) to look downe into the bowels of your grounde, and to seeke about your house at Beddersden (which I see you desire to garnish with many costly commodities) for a convenient plot to be applyed to a Hoppe Garden, to the furtherance and accomplishing whereof, I promyse and assure you, the labour of my handes, the assistance of my advise, and the effect of myne experience.” This little work is recommended to the reader (the recommendation covers four pages) more particularly “as a recompence to the labourer, as a commoditie to the house-keeper, as a comfort to the poor, and as a benefite to the Countrie or Commonwealth, adding thus much hereunto, that there cannot lightly be employed grounde to more profitable use, nor labour to more certain gaynes; howbeit, with this note, that no mysterie is so perfect, no floure so sweete, no scripture so holy, but by abuse a corrupt body, ascending to his venomous nature, may draw poyson out of the same, and therefore blame not this poore trade for that it maketh men riche in yielding double profite.” The author goes on to say that it grieves him to see how “the Flemings envie our practise herein” and declare English hops to be bad, so that they may send the more into England. From this it would seem clear that at all events foreign hops were extensively used in English beer at that date, and English hop gardens by no means common. Scot, who must have been a man of common sense, gives good advice to intending hop growers. They are to consider three things: “First, whether you have, or can procure unto yourself, any grounde good for that purpose” (_i.e._, the cultivation of hops). “Secondly, of the convenient standing thereof. Thirdly, of the quantitie. And this I saye by the way, if the grounde you deale withall, be not your own enheritance, procure unto your selfe some certayne terme therein, least another man reape the fruite of your traveyle and charge.” From the epilogue, which concludes with a tremendous denunciation of those who allow strangers from beyond the seas to bring into the country that which we ought to grow ourselves, we cull the following quaint passage: “There will some smell out the profitable savour of this herbe, some wyll gather the fruit thereof, some will make a sallet therewith (which is good in one respect for the bellye, and in another for the {76} Purse), and when the grace and sweetenesse hereof conceived, some will dippe their fingers therein up to the knuckles, and some will be glad to licke the Dishe, and they that disdayne to be partakers hereof, commonly prove to be such as have mountaynes in fantasie, and beggary in possession.” Reynolde Scot’s pamphlet is most complete in the directions it gives concerning hop-growing, and, strange to say, the system of cultivation seems little changed since then. The author levels the following remarks at the heads of those who might, yet will not, grow hops:— “Methinks I might aptlye compare such men as have grounde fitte for this purpose, and will not employ it accordingly, to ale-house knightes, partly for the small devotion which both the one and the other have unto Hoppes, but especially for that many of these ale knights havyng good drinke at home of their owne, can be content to drinke moore abroade at an ale-house, so they may sit close by it. Let them expounde this comparison that buy their hoppes at Poppering, and may have them at home with more ease, and lesse charge.” Honest old Thomas Tusser, in his “_Five Hundred Points of Good Husbandry_” (1580), has a good deal to say about hops. He gives a charmingly quaint but very practical “lesson where and when to plant a good hop-yard.” Whom fancy persuadeth among other cropps To have for his spending, sufficient of hopps, Must willingly follow, of choyses to chuse; Such lessons approved, as skilful do use. Ground gravely, sandly, and mixed with clay Is naughty for hops, any maner of way, Or if it be mingled with rubbish and stone, For drienes and barrennes, let it alone. Chuse soile for the hop of the rottenest mould Well donged and wrought as a garden plot should, Not far from the water (but not overflowne) This lesson well noted is meete to be knowne. The Sunne in the South, or els southly by west, Is joye to the hop as a welcomed gest, But wind in the North, or els northely and east, To hop is as ill as fray in a feast. {77} Meete plot for a hopyard, once found as is told, Make thereof accompt, as of jewell of gold, Now dig it, and leave it the sunne for to burne, And afterwards fence it to serve for that turn. Among the directions for good husbandry for the various months, Tusser advises that— In March at the furdest, drye season or wet, Hope rootes so well chosen, let skilful go set, The goeler[37] and younger, the better I love Wel gutted[38] and pared, the better they prove. Some layeth them crosewise, along in the ground, As high as the knee, they do come up round. Some pricke up a sticke, in the midds of the same: That little round hillocke, the better to frame! Some maketh a hollownes, halfe a foote deepe, With fower sets in it, set slant wise a steepe One foote from another, in order to lye, And thereon a hillock, as round as a pye. * * * * * By willows that groweth, thy hopyard without, And also by hedges, thy meadowes about, Good hop hath a pleasure, to climbe and to spread: If sonne may have passage to comfort her hed. [37] goeler = goodlier. [38] gutted = taken off from the old roots. The process of setting the hop-poles is thus described:— Get into thy hopyard with plentie of poles, Amongst those same hillocks deuide them by doles, Three poles to a hillock (I pas not how long) Shall yield thee more profit, set deeplie and strong. Care must be taken to weed and to fence the hop garden:— Grasse, thistle and mustard seede, hemlock and bur, Tine, mallow and nettle, that keepe such a stur, With peacock and turkie, that nibbles off top, Are verie ill neighbors to seelie poore hop. * * * * * {78} If hops do looke brownish, then are ye to slow, If longer ye suffer, those hops for to growe. Now, sooner ye gather, more profite is found, If weather be faier, and deaw of ye ground. Not break of, but cut of, from hop the hop string, Leave growing a little, again for to spring. Whos hil about pared, and therewith new clad, That nurrish more sets, against March to be had. Hop hillock discharged, of every set See then without breaking, ecche poll ye out get, Which being betangled, above in the tops: Go carry to such, as are plucking of hops. We have quoted rather largely from Tusser’s poem, thinking that it may interest hop-growers of the present day. Reynolde Scot’s appeal was not in vain, for in 1608 there is no doubt that hop plantations were fairly abundant, though the plant was not sufficiently cultivated for home consumption. In that year an Act was passed against the importation of spoilt hops. Until 1690, however, the greater part of supply was drawn from abroad, and then, to encourage home production, a duty of twenty shillings per cwt. over and above all other charges, was put upon those imported. Walter Blith, writing in 1643, speaks of hops as a “national commoditie.” In 1710, the duty of a penny per lb. was imposed upon all hops reared in England, and threepence on foreign hops. In subsequent years slight variations were made in the amount of the duty, and finally it was abolished, when hop-grounds at once began to increase. When the duty was high, and hops scarce, substitutes for _Humulus lupulus_ were experimented with, among others, pine and willow bark, cascarilla bark, quassia, gentian, colocynth, walnut leaf, wormwood bitter, extract of aloes, cocculus indicus berries, capsicum, and others too numerous to mention, picric acid being perhaps the most modern. None of these have been found to be an equivalent for the hop, lacking its distinct and independent elements of activity. So far we have treated solely of the somewhat chequered history of the hop. Let us now consider its merits and uses. Thus sang the poet:— Lo! on auxiliary Poles, the Hops Ascending spiral, rang’d in meet array: {80} Lo! how the arable with Barley-Grain Stands thick, o’er-shadow’d to the thirsty hind Transporting prospect!—_These,———_ _————infus’d an auburn Drink compose_ _Wholesome of Deathless Fame._ [Illustration: A Perfite Platform of a Hoppe Garden. Training the Hoppe. “It shall not be amisse nowe and then to passe through your Garden, having in eche Hande a forked wande, directyng aright such Hoppes as decline from the Poales.” Gathering the Hoppe. “Cutte them” (the hop stalkes) “a sunder wyth a sharpe hooke, and wyth a forked staffe take them from the Poales.” ] But from poets we do not, as a rule, gather much practical information, except from such as worthy old Tusser. Harrison, in his description of England, says: “The continuance of the drinke is alwaie determined after the quantitie of the hops, so that being well hopped it lasteth longer.” A modern writer puts it thus: “The principal use of hops in brewing is for the preservation of malt liquor, and to communicate to it an agreeably aromatic bitter flavour. The best are used for ale and the finer kinds of malt liquor, and inferior kinds are used for porter.” “Brew in October and hop it for long keeping,” was the excellent advice given by Mortimer. Dr. Luke Booker, in his sequel poem to the Hop Garden, of course devotes some lines to this subject:— Hop’s potent essence, Ale.——bring hither, Boy! That smiling goblet, from the cask just brimmed Where floats a pearly star. By it inspired, No purple wine—no Muse’s aid I ask, To nerve my lines and bid them smoothly flow. And in another place:— Then whencesoever the Hop, That flavouring zest and spirit to my cask Imparts, preservative—a needless truth ’Twere to reveal. There are, whose accurate taste Will tell the region where it mantling grew. In relation to his allusion to a “pearly star,” Dr. Booker tells us that, “When ale is of sufficient strength and freshness, there will always float a small cluster of minute pearl-like globules in the centre of the drinking vessel, till the spirit of the liquor is evaporated.” Hops are an essential to the brewer, not only keeping the beer and giving it an exquisite flavour, but also assisting, if we may be pardoned for using a technical term in a work intended to be anything but technical, to break down the fermentation. Hops are valuable according as they contain much or little of a yellow powder called lupuline, and technically known as “condition,” which is deposited in minute yellow adhesive globules underneath the {81} bracts of the flower tops, and amounts to from 20 per cent. to 30 per cent. of the dry hops. This powder has a powerful aromatic smell, and is bitter to the taste. It contains hop resin, bitter acid of hops (flavour familiar to bitter beer drinkers), tannic acid, and hop oils, the chemical composition of which is not accurately known. Hops contain most lupuline when the flower is fully matured. Year-old hops only command about half the price of new. Those two years old are called “old-olds,” and are still less valuable. After having been five years in store they are worthless to brewers. Nearly all hops intended to be kept are more or less (the less the better) subjected to the fumes of sulphur, which, oxidising the essential oil, converts it into valerianic acid, and combines with the sulphur to form a solid body. Thus the oil, which would otherwise be the cause of mould, is destroyed, and the hops can be kept. We believe it is the practice of the best brewers to use a mixture of new and old hops, the latter being slightly sulphured, so slightly, indeed, that the smell of the sulphur cannot be detected. Much has been written on the injurious effects of sulphuring, both to the fermentation and the health of beer-drinkers, and some people have very strong views on the subject. In 1855 a commission, which included Liebig among its members, was appointed by the Bavarian Government to inquire into the matter. After experiments which lasted over a period of two years, a report was issued in which it was stated that in the opinion of the commissioners, sulphuring was beneficial to the hops, and in no way prejudicial to the fermentation. In 1877, a method was made known of preserving hops without sulphur. The oil which prevents the hops from keeping was separated from them by a chemical process, and bottled. The hops were then pressed and kept in the usual way. When required for brewing, the hops and oil could again be united by adding ten or twelve drops of the latter to every twenty-two gallons of beer. This system does not seem to have found favour with hop merchants. Aloes have occasionally been used to restore decayed hops, though with such poor success that we should hardly think the experiment was often repeated. Professor Bradly, a Cambridge professor of botany, wrote as follows:—“I cannot help taking notice here of a method which has been used to stale and decayed hops, to make them recover their bitterness, which is to unbag them, and sprinkle them with aloes and water, which, I have known, has spoiled great quantities of drink about London; for even where the water, the malt, the brewer, {82} and the cellars are each good, a bad hop will spoil all: so that every one of these particulars should be well chosen before brewing, or else we must expect a bad account of our labour.” The age of hops is known by their appearance, odour, and feel. New unsulphured hops, for instance, when rubbed through the hand feel oily. In their first year they are of a bright green colour, have an aromatic smell and the lupuline is a bright yellow. In the second year they get darker, have a slightly cheesy odour, and the lupuline becomes a golden yellow. In the third year the lupuline is a dark yellow, the smell being about the same as in the second year. In the hedges about Canton is found a variety of hop growing wild. It has been named the _Humulus Japonicus_. “Although this species,” says Seemann, in his _Botany of the Voyage of H.M.S. Herald_, “was published many years ago by Von Siebold and Zuccarini, we still find nearly all our systematic works asserting that there is only _one_ species of Humulus, as there seems to be only one species of Cannabis. This, however, is a very good species, at once distinguished from the common Hop by the entire absence of those resinous spherical glands, with which the scales of the imbricated heads of the latter are scattered, and to which they owe their value in the preparation of beer, making the substitution of the one for the other for economical purposes an impossibility.” So much then for the first and principal use of hops—and yet a few lines more on the same subject; from Christopher Smart’s poem of the _Hop Garden_:— Be it so. But Ceres, rural Goddess, at the best Meanly supports her vot’ry, enough for her If ill-persuading hunger she repell, And keep the soul from fainting: to enlarge, To glad the heart, to sublimate the mind And wing the flagging spirits to the sky, Require the united influence and aid Of Bacchus, God of Hops, with Ceres joined, ’Tis he shall generate the buxom beer. But hops have other uses than the generation of “the buxom beer.” The discovery, which we consider an important one, was made a few years back that hop-bine makes excellent ensilage. The subject was {83} first mentioned, so far as we know, in a letter to _The Field_ of December 6th, 1884, from A. L., probably, agent to H. A. Brassey, Esq., of Aylesford. The writer gave an account of the opening of a silo, in one compartment of which had been placed eight tons of hop-bines, in the beginning of the previous September. An account of the experiment was also sent by a visitor at the farm, from whose letter the following extract seems to us well worth perusal:—“The hop-bine is at present an entirely waste material, except for littering purposes; and not a few of the local farmers were anxious to see how it would turn out, and whether stock would eat the hop-bine ensilage or not. No experiment could be more satisfactory. The apparent condition and smell of a great deal of it was even superior to that of several of the other varieties; and when a bag of it was taken to the homestead and offered to some fattening steers, which had been well fed just before, and were not in the least hungry, they devoured it with great alacrity, and seemed heartily to enjoy the new food; consequently this will be good news to hop-growers.” Early in ’85, the following important letter on the subject appeared in the _Kentish Gazette_, from Mr. T. M. Hopkins, Lower Wick, Worcester:— “Having learnt from Mr. Seymour, agent to H. A. Brassey, Esq., that hop-bine made first-rate ensilage, last Oct. I made two stacks of it 16ft. by 16ft., and 18ft. high. After letting it ferment freely, I pressed down with Reynolds and Co.’s patent screw press, and next day filled up again; and, when sufficiently fermented, again pressed down, and this lasted all through the hop-picking. I have now used nearly the whole of it, and calculate that it has saved me some 80 tons of hay; no more hop-bine do I waste in future as I have hitherto done. My horses have had nothing else for two months, excepting their usual allowance of corn, and I never had them looking better. I have also had 100 head of cattle, stores, cows, and calves feeding on it for a fortnight, and they do well. Dr. Voelcker, chemist to the R.A.S.E., who has analysed it, says: ‘It has plenty of good material in it, and is decidedly rich in nitrogen, nor is the amount of acid excessive or likely to harm cattle.’ Another analyst, Mr. W. E. Porter, F.C.S., says: ‘It contains more flesh-forming matter and less indigestible fibre than hay dried at 212.’ Planters should leave off growing hops to sell at present average prices, 40s. to 50s., which is a dead loss. Let the plant run wild, and they may every season cut two or three immense crops of material that will make ensilage of unexceptionable quality.” {84} To this there is little we can add.[39] The importance of the subject is evident. We may, however, express a hope that hop-growers will not act on Mr. Hopkins’ suggestion, and only grow hops for the sake of the bine—English hops are too good for that. We have spoken of hop-bine ensilage as a discovery, but French farmers have for years mixed green hop-leaves with their cows’ food, under the belief, rightly or wrongly we know not, that it increases the flow of milk. Possibly in the far past hops were cultivated as fodder, and even used as ensilage. Silos we know were used anciently, though only recently re-introduced owing principally to the attention called to them in _The Field_ and the agricultural journals. [39] In a letter with which we have recently been favoured by Mr. Hopkins, that gentleman says: “I have every reason to believe in the great value of Hop-Bine Ensilage . . . milking-cows do well with it, and it does not affect the flavour of the milk.” The stem of the hop contains a vegetable wax, and sap from which can be made a durable reddish brown. Its ash is used in the manufacture of Bohemian glass; and it also makes excellent pulp for paper. From its fibres ropes and coarse textile fabrics of considerable strength have been made. The Van de Schelldon process of cloth-making from the stem of the hop, invented, we believe, in 1866, is shortly as follows: The stalks are cut, done up in bundles, and steeped like hemp. After steeping they are dried in the sun. They are then beaten with mallets to loosen the fibres, which are afterwards carded and woven in the usual way. It is from the thicker stems that ropes can be made. Several patents have been taken out for manufacturing paper from hops. One taken out by a Mr. Henry Dyer was for paper made of fresh or spent hops, or spent malt, alone or combined with other materials. In 1873 a meeting of paper-makers was held in France, before whom was exhibited a textile material made from the bark of the hop-stalk, the outer skin being removed and subjected to chemical treatment. It was in long pieces, and supple and delicate of texture. About ten years ago it was announced, in a journal devoted to photography, that an infusion of hops, mixed with pyrogallic acid, albumen of eggs, and filtered in the ordinary way, could be used as a preservative for the plates then in use by photographers. Plates preserved with this, dried hard with a fine gloss, and yielded negatives of very high quality. A mixture of beer and albumen was formerly used {85} for the same purpose, but owing to the varying quality and properties of the beer, was very uncertain in its action. The root of the hop is not without its uses, containing starchy substances which can be made into glucose and alcohol. It also contains a certain amount of tannin, which, it has been suggested, might be used with advantage in tanneries. Until recently trumpeted forth in the advertisements of a certain patent medicine, it was not generally known outside the medical profession that hops possessed medicinal qualities of considerable value. Old medical writers, however, must have changed their views on the subject within a hundred years after the time of Andrew Boorde, from whose works we have already quoted a few lines. Wm. Coles, Herbalist, in his _History of Plants_, published in 1657, states that certain preparations of hops are cures for about half the ills that flesh is heir to. Another old writer declares the young shoots of the hop, eaten like asparagus, to be very wholesome and effectual to loosen the body (the poorer classes in some parts of Europe still eat the young hops as a vegetable); the head and tendrils good to purify the blood in the scurvy and most other cutaneous diseases (which scurvy is not), and the decoctions of the flower and syrup thereof useful against pestilential fevers. Juleps and apozems are also prepared with hops for hypochondriacal and hysterical affections; and a pillow stuffed with hops is used to induce sleep. This last method, by the way, was taken advantage of by the medical advisers of George III. That unfortunate king, when in a demented condition, always slept on a pillow so prepared. Another writer tells us that the Spaniards were in the habit of boiling a pound of hop roots in a gallon of water, reducing it to six pints, and drinking half a pint when in bed of a morning, under the belief that it possessed the same qualities as sarsaparilla. Dr. Brooks, in his _Dispensatory_, published in 1753, concurs with the older writers on the subject. _Observations and Experiments on the Humulus Lupulus of Linnæus, with an account of its use in Gout and other Diseases_, is the title of a pamphlet by a Mr. Freake, of Tottenham Court Road, published in 1806. The author states that a patient of his, who was in want of a bitter tincture, found all the usual remedies disagree with him, and after numerous unsatisfactory experiments, fell back upon a preparation of hops, which appeared to answer its purpose. This led Mr. Freake to try further experiments with the hop, when he came to the conclusion that it was an excellent remedy for relieving the pains of gout, acting sometimes when opium failed. {86} Hops have also been employed with good effect in poultices. Dr. Trotter, in one of his medical works, quotes a letter from an assistant of Dr. Geach, once senior surgeon of the Royal Hospital at Plymouth, in which the writer says that he had during six months experimented with hops, and found that a poultice made of a strong decoction of hops, oatmeal, and water was an excellent remedy for ulcers, which should first be fomented with the decoction. Dr. Paris, writing of the hop about the year 1820, says, “It is now generally admitted that they constitute the most valuable ingredient in malt liquors. Independently of the flavour and tonic virtues which they communicate, they precipitate, by means of their astringent principle, the vegetable mucilage, and thus remove from the beer the active principle of its fermentation; without hops, therefore, we must either drink our malt liquors new and ropy, or old and sour.” In the introduction to Murray’s _Handbook of Kent_ it is stated that invalids are occasionally recommended to pass whole days in hop grounds as a substitute for the usual exhibition of Bass or Allsopp. In hop gardens the air is no doubt impregnated with lupuline, so there may be something in this. At the present day lupuline is often used in medicine. Lupuline was the name given by Ives to the yellow dust covering the female flower of hops. Later, Ives, Chevallier, and Pellatau gave that name, not to the dust, but to the bitter principle it contains. The recognized preparations of hops are an infusion, a tincture, and an extract. They are stomachic, tonic, and soporific. Dr. John Gardner, in one of his works on medicine, says that “bitter ale, or the lupuline in pills which it forms by simply rubbing between the fingers and warming, are the best forms for using hops in dyspepsia and feeble appetite, which they will often relieve.” The lupuline powder is easily separated from the hops by means of a sieve. A hop bath to relieve pain is also recommended by Dr. Gardner for certain painful internal diseases. It is made thus: two pounds of hops are boiled in two gallons of water for half an hour, then strained and pressed, and the fluid added to about thirty gallons of water. This bath has been much praised. Hop beer (without alcohol) is another preparation of the plant which has been recommended. In America the hop is highly appreciated for medicinal purposes. There are three preparations of it in the authorized code: a tincture, a liquid extract, and an oleo-resin. So much, then, for the history and economic and medicinal uses of {87} the hop. Before we close this chapter it is our intention to give a short account of the hop-growing countries and districts, of hopfields, of hop-growers’ multifarious troubles, and some description of what are perhaps the greatest curiosities of the subject—the hop-pickers. The European hop-growing countries stand in the following order: Germany takes the lead with about 477,000 acres of hop gardens, England following, and then Belgium, Austria, France, and other states (Denmark, Greece, Portugal, &c.), in which the acreage is insignificant. According to Dr. Thudichum, 53,000,000 kilogrammes of hops are produced annually in Europe, and in good years production may rise to over 80,000,000. In America hops have been cultivated for more than two centuries, having been introduced into the New Netherlands in 1629 and into Virginia in 1648. Hop-culture is now common in most of the northern states. We believe we are correct in saying that the best hop years America has ever known, were 1866 to 1868, when the amount produced was from 2,400 lbs. to 2,500 lbs. per acre. In 1870 the total production was 25,456,669 lbs. In Australia hops are extensively cultivated; they are also grown in China and India. In the latter place they have not been introduced many years, but beer of a fair quality is made in some of the hill stations. The following table shows approximately the acreage of hops in England at the present time: District. Acreage. Mid Kent 17,150 Weald of Kent 12,601 East Kent 11,885 Sussex 9,501 Hereford 6,087 Hampshire 2,938 Worcester 2,767 Surrey 2,439 Other Counties 251 From the eastern limits of the hop gardens at Sandwich to the western boundary in Hereford, hard by the borders of Wales, there are, then, about 65,619 acres of hop gardens, or hop “yards,” as they are called in some districts, _e.g._, Worcester and Hereford. North Cray, in Nottinghamshire, formerly grew a good quantity of hops, but the plantations are now considerably reduced, and this applies also to the Stowmarket district, in Suffolk, and to Essex. The number of acres devoted to the cultivation of hops has always been subject to great {88} fluctuations; thus in 1807 they numbered 38,218; in 1819, 51,000; in 1830, 46,727; and in 1875, 70,000. Dr. Booker wrote that for quality of hops, Herefordshire stood first Worcestershire second, Kent third, and North Cray fourth; but he was probably mistaken, for the hops of East Kent have always been held to be the best in all England, pre-eminent alike for strength and flavour; those of Farnham, however, run them very closely. Our English hops, indeed, are far superior to most of those imported, and the foreigners are rarely used in beer without an admixture of home-grown hops. Immense quantities now come from abroad; in 1828 only 4 cwt. were imported! Until quite recently, the whole of the hops in this country were poled upon much the same system as that described in Reynolde Scot’s old pamphlet—that is, three or four plants would be grown on a hillock, each having a pole to climb. Now, the poles are largely supplemented by wires arranged in various ways, sometimes, when covered with bine, forming bell-tents of hops; and sometimes running from pole to pole. Other wires leaving them at right angles are attached to pegs in the ground. The aspect of the gardens is greatly changed, but they are not less beautiful than of yore. Train the hop as you will, you cannot make it unlovely. The vines twist lovingly round the slender wires and tall poles, the former bending under their weight and swaying to and fro in the breeze. From pole to pole run the topmost shoots, and the whole field is one large arbour, roofed, if it be autumn, with verdant foliage and golden green fruit. Then, may be, the sunlight here and there touches the glorious clusters, giving them still richer colours. “The hop for his profit I thus do exalt,” wrote old Tusser, “and for his grace and beauty,” he might have added, but the worthy Thomas was nothing if not practical. Howitt, in his _Year Book of the Country_ thus writes of the hop country in autumn: “But all is not sombre and meditative in September. The hopfield and the nutwood are often scenes of much jolly old English humour and enjoyment. In Kent and Sussex the whole country is odorous with the aroma of hop, as it is breathed from the drying kilns and huge wagons filled with towering loads of hops, thronging the road to London. But not only is the atmosphere perfumed with hops, but the very atmosphere of the drawing-room and dining-room too. Hops are the grand flavour of conversation as well as of beer. Gentlemen, ladies, clergymen, noblemen, all are growers of hops, and deeply interested in the state of the crop and the market.” {89} The use of wires is a serious matter for hop-pole growers if the following calculation, made by some ingenious person, be correct. Suppose that 45,000 acres of hops are under cultivation, and each acre annually requires 800 new poles, the total annual requirement will be 36,000,000 poles. Each acre of underwood from which poles are cut produces about 3,000. Every year, therefore, 12,000 acres of underwood must be cut to supply the demand. If each acre produces on an average 2,000 poles, which is nearer the truth than 3,000, then 18,000 acres must be cut annually to supply the hop-gardens with poles. Poets, in their search for similes, have not overlooked hops and hop poles. In Gay’s _A New Song of New Similes_ occur the following lines:— Hard is her heart as flint or stone, She laughs to see me pale; And merry as a grig is grown, And brisk as _bottled ale_. * * * * * Ah me! as thick as _hops_ or hail The fine men crowd about her. Then Cotton, in his verses to John Bradshaw, Esq., writes:— Mustachios looked like heroes’ trophies Behind their arms in th’ Herald’s office; The perpendicular beard appeared Like _hop-poles_ in a _hopyard_ reared. Hop-growers’ troubles, furnish a theme of which, were we hop-growers, we fear our readers would weary, for a volume might very well be filled with a relation of them. Not being hop-growers, and having much to write about ere we inscribe the sad word “finis,” we must content ourselves only with such an account as will give our readers a general idea of the subject. To begin with, the annual outlay per acre in the gardens is very great, being about £36. A hop acre, be it observed, is not an ordinary acre, but contains a thousand hop plants in rows, six or seven feet apart, and is equal to about two-thirds the statutory acre. No crops are more precarious than the _humulus lupulus_. How said Dr. Booker?— The spiral hop, high mantling, how to train _No common care_ to Britain’s gen’rous sons, Lovers of “nut-brown ale”—sing fav’ring Muse! {90} A glance at statistics will show the truth of our statement. In 1882 the return per acre did not average more than 1½ cwt. on account of a perfect plague of aphides; while in 1859, which is about the best hop year of the century, the return was 13¼ cwt. per acre. The average yield during the last seventy-six years is about 6¾ cwt. per acre; not a very large return for the outlay. In 1839 a certain hop plantation in Kent of about 21½ acres, produced 15 cwt. per acre, and in the following year only 1 cwt. per acre. These extraordinary variations in the production of hop gardens are caused by insects and the weather. Early in the year, when the vines appear well grown and sturdy, the hop-grower may with a light heart, perhaps, prophesy a good crop. In May a few aphides—winged females—are noticed, and in August the silvery brightness of the delicate bracts is blackened and spoilt by the filth of the lice—larvæ of the hop aphis. About September a mighty wind comes; poles are blown down in all directions, the ground is strewn with the cones blown from the vines, and branches are bruised, causing the cones on them to wither and decay before picking-time. Just as the hops are ripening two or three cold nights perhaps occur, which throw them back and materially reduce the value of the crop. Then they may be attacked with mildew, or even when all evils have in most part been avoided, picking-time has all but arrived, and the hop-grower is congratulating himself on his good fortune, a shower of hail may happen, stripping the vines and reducing the value of the crop by three-fourths. Miss Ormerod, consulting entomologist to the Royal Agricultural Society, has given much study to, and thrown considerable light upon, the hop aphis. The course of the attack upon the hop she has discovered to be as follows:—The aphis first comes upon the hop in the spring in the form of wingless females (depositing young), which ascend the bine from the ground. The great attack, however, which usually occurs in the form of “fly” about the end of May, comes from damson and sloe bushes as well as from the hop; the hop aphis and the damson aphis being, in Miss Ormerod’s opinion, very slight varieties of one species, and so similar in habits that for all practical purposes of inquiry they may be considered one. From experiments made on hop grounds in Hereford, the use of various applications round the hills in the late autumn or about the beginning of April, completely prevented attacks to the vines of those hills until the summer attack came on the wing. Paraffin in any dry material spread on the hills, proved serviceable both as a preventive {91} and a remedy, and petroleum and kerosine were also used with advantage. Among the methods of washing, the application of steam power opens up a possibility of carrying out these operations with rapidity and at less cost. When the fly is very bad, the common practice is, after the picking is over, to clear the land of bine and weeds and to place quicklime round the hills or plant centres. When the hop is fully formed, shortly before picking, if the weather be hot and close, almost the whole crop may be destroyed in a few days. The aphides penetrate the hop and suck from the tender bracts the juice, some of which exudes; this, the moist weather retarding evaporation, produces decay at the point of puncture, and a black spot shows, technically called “mould.” The great enemies to the lice are the ladybirds, which devour them greedily, and a hop-grower would as soon destroy a ladybird as a herring fisherman a seagull. It has been recently suggested that the suitability or not of soil for hop-growing, depends upon the presence or absence of sulphur, which is an essential ingredient of hops. There is more than one instance on record where hops treated with gypsum (sulphate of lime) were free from mould, while in adjoining gardens the hops not so treated suffered severely. The hops least liable to blight and mould contain the largest amount of sulphur. A curious fact has been proved in Germany by careful analysis. In plants attacked by the hop bug the proportion of sulphur is much greater in the healthy and unattacked leaves than in those infested with the bug. This subject hardly comes within the range of our work, and we merely mention it to bring it into notice among hop-growers, whom further experiments with gypsum may possibly benefit. It is obvious that as the chief attack is made by aphis on the wing, dressings put on the ground with a view to kill the aphides in the soil are of little avail, for from a neighbouring or even a distant garden where the hills have been not so treated, may come a flight of aphides causing desolation in their track. If, however, sulphur can be imported into the live plant, and such plants are untouched by the fly, it would seem that we are near a solution of this very vexed problem. We know of an instance where the hops on one side of a valley were totally destroyed by the fly, while on the other side they were untouched. The wind setting in one direction during the flight, had carried the fly over the sheltered side, and deposited them on the exposed side of the valley. Not to mention extraordinary tithes in this portion of our subject would be a serious omission. Formerly our worthy pastors were paid {92} with a tenth of the actual produce of the land, now they receive what are in theory equivalent money payments. As orchards, market gardens, and hop gardens were deemed to yield much greater returns than other land, the tithe on them was fixed at a much greater rate than on pasture and arable land. While the tithe on these latter is but trifling, the tithe on the former is about thirty shillings per acre. When few foreign hops were imported, these very extraordinary tithes could be paid, but now they are a most serious, not to say unjust, tax on the hop-grower who in very bad years may not make thirty or even twenty shillings per acre. It is common knowledge that a great agitation is on foot to obtain their abolition, and there appears to be a very general feeling that no land ought in the future to become subject to extraordinary tithe by reason of any crop which may be grown on it. At present the extraordinary tithes are a check on production and the most advantageous cultivation of land. Being thus prejudicial to the welfare of the State, they should have been abolished long ago, and no doubt would have been, but for the circumstance that the immediate sufferers are comparatively few in number. The hop gardens of Kent not only provide the brewer with the best hops, but, as each autumn comes round, afford to some thirty thousand or so of the poorer classes living in the densely-populated districts of the east of London a few weeks of country life. The East-Enders, indeed, look upon hop-picking in Kent, Surrey, and Sussex as their particular prerogative, and mix but little with the “home” pickers, who, however, are almost equal to them in numbers. “When the plants are laden with beautiful bloom And the air breathes around us its rich perfume,” the grower sends word to the pickers, most of whom have had their names down for a bin, or a basket, for weeks or even months previously. In Mid Kent “bins” are used. These consist of an oblong framework of wood supported on legs, and to which a piece of sackcloth is fastened. The bins are divided down the centres, so that two families may pick into one bin. At certain times in the day the hops in each bin are measured and the number of bushels credited to the pickers. In East Kent baskets are used; these contain distinct marks for each bushel, so that the labour of measuring is dispensed with. From the baskets the hops are emptied into sacks and carried to the oast house to be dried. This is a simple operation. The oast house is a square brick building with a chimney of large size in the centre of the roof. The hops are {93} laid on cloths stretched between beams. The necessary heat is obtained from a brick fireplace which is open at the top. After having been sufficiently baked, the hops are allowed to cool, and are then put into pockets, _i.e._, long sacks, stamped down as tightly as possible, and are ready for the market. As in Chaucer’s time pilgrims wound their way through the garden of England, so now do pilgrims, but with different object, tramp along the dusty highway or shady lane into that beautiful country. In Chaucer’s time the monasteries provided food and shelter for the pilgrims; but now they in most part are content with the blue sky or spreading branch of tree as a roof, and hedge-row for a wall. If the weather be but reasonably fine, the life of these latter-day pilgrims is not a hard one, for the balmy country air, the soft turf and beautiful surroundings must seem to these poor creatures a kind of paradise after the dens of filth, disease, and darkness from which they have come. Not pleasant company are these pilgrims. As a rule they are uncleanly, their habits coarse, their language foul, and their morality doubtful. Many persons in Kent prefer to lose several pounds rather than let their children go into the fields and associate with the mixed company from the East-End. Poor people! they are after all what their circumstances have made them; a sweep can hardly be blamed for having a black face. A few years since men, women, and children all slept together indiscriminately in barns and outhouses. Now, as regards sleeping accommodation, there have been changes for the better, “And far and near With accent clear The hop-picker’s song salutes the glad ear: The old and the young Unite in the throng, And echo re-echoes their jocund song, The hop-picking time is a time of glee, So merrily, merrily now sing we: For the bloom of the hop is the secret spell Of the bright pale ale that we love so well; So gather it quickly with tender care, And off to the wagons the treasure bear.” The high road from London to the hopfields of Kent presents a curious appearance immediately before the hop-picking season. A stranger might imagine that the poorer classes of a big city were flying {94} before an invading army. Grey-haired, decrepit old men and women are to be seen crawling painfully along, their stronger sons and daughters pressing on impatiently. Children by the dozens, some fresh and leaping for very joy at the green fields and sunshine, others crying from fatigue, for the road is long and dusty. Nearly all these people carry sacks or baskets, or bundles, and some even push hand carts laden with clothing, rags, and odds and ends. Most of these folk are careless, merry people, and beguile the way as did Chaucer’s pilgrims, with many a coarse jest, but here and there will be seen some hang-dog bloated-faced ruffian tramping doggedly along, a discontented weary woman dragging slowly a few yards in his rear, as likely as not carrying a half-starved sickly child in her shawl. Such as these cause the coming of the hop-pickers to be regarded with anything but satisfaction in country districts, and at such time householders are doubly careful to see that their windows and doors are properly barred. But the majority of the pickers are well-behaved according to their lights, and guilty at most of a little rough horseplay towards the solitary traveller or among themselves. Towards evening the pickers cease their tramp, and take up their quarters for the night in woodland copse, or under hedge-row or sheltering bank. Baskets, sacks, and hand carts are unpacked, and here and there will be seen a whole family seated round a blazing wood fire, over which boils the family kettle. Others, less fortunate in having no family circle to join, betake themselves to more secluded quarters to munch the lump of bread of which their supper consists. About half the pickers are taken into Kent by special trains, a larger number, as might be expected, returning that way. The secretaries of the South Eastern and London and Chatham Railway Companies have very kindly furnished us with a few figures on the subject. In 1882—_the_ bad year for hops—the S.E.R. Company only carried 173 pickers to the fields, and 3,094 on the return journeys; but in previous years the numbers varied from 6,000 to 17,000 on the outgoing journey, and 9,000 to 19,000 on the return journey. Last year the L.C. & D.R. Company carried 1,785 pickers to the fields, and brought back 4,035. But if the pickers are light-hearted and merry on the way to the fields, with empty pockets, what are they on their return, after work is over and wages paid? Everything is then the height of merriment, and of such an uproarious kind as the people of the East End delight in. Young men and girls, invigorated by their sojourn in the bracing country air, alike garland themselves with hops, and decorate themselves with gay ribbons. Laughing, dancing, and singing, they hurry {95} to the station, or along the road to London. Practical jokes are played by the score, the railway officials are distracted, the police look the other way. As train after train full of shouting people leaves the station, the crowd gradually becomes less thick. Night comes on, and many return to their barns, obliged to put off their return home for another day. In a few days this lively throng of humanity has disappeared; the hopfields, robbed of their bright crops, are again quiet; and the more nervous of the dwellers in Kent again breathe freely. [Illustration] {96} [Illustration]