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}