The first idea prevailing about Tea was that it should be planted on slopes. It was thought, and truly, that the plant was impatient of stagnant water, and so it is, but it is not necessary to plant it on slopes in consequence. Pictures of Chinese, suspended by chains (inasmuch as the locality could not be otherwise reached), picking Tea off bushes growing in the crevices of rocks, somewhat helped this notion; and when stated, as it was, that the Tea produced in such places was the finest, and commanded the highest price—which was not true—intending planters in India went crazy in their search for impracticable steeps! Much of the failure in Tea has arisen from this fact, for a great part of many, the whole of some, gardens have been planted on land so steep that the Tea can never last or thrive on it. This is especially the case in parts of the Darjeeling district.

Sloping land is objectionable in the following respects. It cannot be highly cultivated in any way (I hold Tea will only pay with high cultivation), for high cultivation consists in frequent digging, to keep the soil open and get rid of weeds, and liberal manuring. If such soil is dug in the rainy season, it is washed down to the foot of the hill, and if manure is applied at any time of the year, it experiences the same fate when the rain comes. As it cannot be dug, weeds necessarily thrive and diminish the yield by choking the plants.

The choice is therefore of two evils: “low cultivation and weeds,” or “high cultivation which bares the roots of the plants in a twelvemonth.” Of the two, the first must be chosen, for if the latter were pursued, the plants, getting gradually more and more denuded of soil, would simply topple over in two or three years. But choosing the lesser evil, the mischief is not confined to the bad effects of low cultivation. Dig the land as little as you will, the great force of the rains washes down a good deal of soil. The plants do not sink as the soil lowers, and the consequence is that all Tea plants on slopes have the lower side bare of earth and the roots exposed. This is more and more the case the steeper the slope. These exposed roots shrivel up as the sun acts on them, the plant languishes and yields very little leaf.

Attempts are made to remedy the mischief by carrying earth up from below yearly, and placing it under the plant; but the expense of doing this is great, and the palliation is only temporary, for the same thing occurs again and again as each rainy season returns.

The mischief is greater on stiff than on sandy soils, for on the former the earth is detached in great pieces and carried down the hill. I know one garden in Chittagong, a large one, where the evil is so great, that the sooner the cultivation is abandoned the better for the owners.

A great many gardens in India, indeed the majority, are on slopes; a few in Assam, the greater number in Cachar, some in Chittagong, and almost all the Himalayan plantations. Such of these as are on steep slopes will, I believe, never pay, and instead of improving yearly (as good gardens, highly cultivated, should do even after they have arrived at full bearing) such, I fear, will deteriorate year by year.

Plantations on moderate slopes need not fail because of the slopes. The evils slight slopes entail are not great, but the sooner the fact is accepted that sloping cannot vie against flat land for the cultivation of Tea the better.

Where only the lower parts of slopes are planted, the plants do very well. The upper part being jungle the wash is not great, and the plants benefit much by the rich vegetable matter the rain brings down from above. I have often seen very fine plants on the lower part of slopes, where the upper has been left in jungle, and I should not hesitate to plant such portions if the slope was moderate.

Where teelah land, in Eastern Bengal, or sloping land in the Himalayas, Chittagong, or elsewhere, has to be adopted, aspect is all-important. A good aspect in one climate is bad in another. In Assam, Cachar, Chittagong, and all warm places, choose the coolest; at high elevations (temperate climes), the warmest.

In the Himalayas, moreover, the warmer aspects are, as a rule, the most fertile; vice vers in warm localities. Many a garden, which would have done very well on the moderate slopes chosen had only the proper aspects been planted, has been ruined by planting all sides of teelahs or hills indiscriminately. The southern and western slopes of plantations in warm sites are generally very bare of plants. Not strange they should be so, when the power of the reflected rays of the afternoon sun is considered. Again, in cold climates plants cannot thrive on northern aspects, for their great want in such climes is heat and sunshine. Let the above fault, then, be avoided in both cases, for though doubtless a garden is more handy, and looks better in one piece planted all over without any intervening jungle, even patches of jungle look better, and are decidedly cheaper, than bare cultivated hills.

Of flat land, after what I have written, I need not add much. It is of two kinds, table and valley land; the former is very rare in Tea districts, at least of any extent, which makes it worth while to plant it. There are two gardens in Chittagong on such flat table land, and they are both doing very well. Table land cannot be too flat, for the natural drainage is so great no stagnant water can lie.[14]

Valley land is not good if it is perfectly flat. It will then be subject to inundation and stagnant water. There is nothing that kills the plant so surely and quickly as the latter. Even quite flat valleys can be made sweet by artificial drainage, but to do this a lower level, not too far distant, must exist, and the danger is not quite removed then. Valleys in which no water-course exists, and which slope towards the mouth alone, are to be avoided, for the plants near the mouth always get choked with sand. The best valleys are those with a gentle slope both ways, one towards the lowest line of the valley, be it a running water-course, or a dry nullah which carries off rain, the other towards the mouth of the valley. Such valleys drain themselves, or at least very little artificial drainage is necessary. A valley of this kind, with a running stream through it, is most valuable for Tea, and if the other advantages of soil and climate are present it is simply a perfect site. Such however are not frequent. If in such valleys, as is generally the case, the slope from the head to the mouth is enough, the running stream can be “bunded” (shut up) at a high level, and brought along one side at a sufficient elevation to irrigate the whole.

I have never seen but one garden in a valley that fulfils all these conditions exactly. It is in Chittagong; the soil is good, labour plentiful, and manure abundant. It ought to do great things, for the possibility of irrigating plants in the dry season (which, as observed, is very trying in Chittagong) will give several extra flushes in the year.

Of course in the wet season on such land the water must be allowed to resume its natural course.

Narrow valleys are not worth planting. No narrow tracts of land, with jungle on both sides, are worth the expense of cultivation, for the continual encroachment of the jungle gives much extra work. The plants, moreover, in very narrow valleys get half-buried with soil washed down from the adjacent slopes. Narrow valleys are therefore, in any case, better avoided.

To conclude shortly, flat lands can be highly cultivated, steep slopes cannot. Tea pays best (perhaps not at all otherwise) with high cultivation—ergo, flat lands are preferable.