How England's orchards reached crisis point – and what they must do to survive

Telegraph

4 days ago

'As a child of the Blitz, Dad used to run around the orchards in Cambridgeshire scrumping apples,' says Anna Gazeley, inspecting an apple seedling she's cultivating.
'And then he came back after a life working abroad, and noticed that the only orchards he could see were on signposts for new housing estates. It completely devastated him, this thought that the vision of the English countryside he'd cherished in his mind had just completely gone.'
Albert Gazeley was far from alone in feeling this loss so keenly. The decline in British orchard acreage is now approaching crisis point. A recent ongoing survey by the People's Trust for Endangered Species (PTES), part-funded by Natural England (a non-departmental public body sponsored by the Department for Environment, Food and Rural Affairs), revealed that a staggering 90 per cent of traditional orchards have been lost since the 1950s, due to neglect, development or conversion.
When the National Trust published its own report using some of PTES' data, it found that the total number of orchards – including more commercial operations – had halved since 1900.
'There is a genuine crisis of confidence in the industry,' said Ali Capper, executive chair of fruit grower association British Apples & Pears (BAPL), in response to recent rises in employers' National Insurance contributions and the National Living Wage. 'We urgently need policies that will shore up investment and growth in the sector before we start to lose more orchards from the British countryside.'
And that's before you even reach a traditional orchard like Anna Gazeley's. Her father was so determined to preserve Coton Orchard that he bought it 30 years ago, halting development and safeguarding Cambridgeshire's fruit-growing heritage. By many measures, it's been a success: the 60-acre, 100-year-old site now grows 26 varieties of apples and has been designated a 'habitat of principal importance', home to several protected species.
And yet Gazeley is now fighting Cambridgeshire County Council's plans to run a busway straight through the middle of it. Campaigners have come together as the Coton Busway Action Group, and there will be a public enquiry in September – although they remain nervous that any positive verdict could be overturned by the Secretary of State.
'It's the largest traditional orchard left in Cambridgeshire,' says Gazeley. 'We make some juice, we donate apples to food banks, we're working with a cider producer up the road, too, and we leave some to windfall, which is amazing for migrating birds.'
That last point is crucial: Coton Orchard isn't a commercial enterprise supplying crates of fruit to Tesco. What it is, however, is a haven for biodiversity, home to a number of rare species of plants, invertebrates and birds – 256 terrestrial invertebrates have been recorded (15 of which are of conservation concern), including the dark crimson underwing moth, alongside 28 bird species on the red and amber lists.
This richness isn't just due to the windfall apples – it's largely thanks to the dead wood habitats that free-standing fruit trees provide. No wonder it holds a special place in the hearts of the local community – as many smaller orchards across the country do. And yet, when planning officials first assessed the site, they labelled it 'unproductive agricultural land'.
'When councillors and inspectors make comments like that, they're only looking at the money,' says Gazeley. 'My background is in auditing, so I look at the balance sheet and think 'what the hell am I doing', too. But I always go back to the idea that we're actually being productive for the planet and humanity, not just a business spreadsheet.'
The economics of apple growing in Britain are fascinating – and increasingly precarious. In a typical year, commercial growers plant around 1.5 million saplings, with orchards at that scale needing careful management. Last year, just 500,000 were ordered, mostly from UK nurseries – and a third of those have since been cancelled due to lack of demand. Some farmers are even starting to remove orchards altogether, hit by a perfect storm of low fruit returns, strained supermarket relationships, labour shortages, rising energy costs and the pressures of climate change.
Ultimately, says British Apples & Pears, this will mean fewer British apples on our supermarket shelves. Smaller orchards, in fact, rarely sell directly to supermarkets anymore – the margins just aren't there. BAPL's latest data suggests it costs producers £1.40 to grow a kilo of apples; yet in Sainsbury's this week, a kilo was selling for just £2. Instead, they've been forced to diversify.
And on a beautifully warm May afternoon in the Cheshire countryside, as cyclists and walkers stop for a cooling cider in Dunham Apples' orchard, it's clear just how hard producers have to work.
'There's something really special about this place,' says Chris Hewitt, speaking of the farm his family has managed since the 1930s. As he tends to a wood-fired pizza for a customer – served with a cold glass of their own Dunham Press Cider – he explains how the orchard came to be.
Though you'd likely count Dunham Apples as a traditional orchard (Natural England defines these as sites with little or no chemical input), a couple of decades ago there were only a few apple and pear trees here. For many years, the family had prioritised vegetables. But after some successful juice pressings from his father's trees, they began replanting – first dessert apples, then cider varieties.
'There was a lot to learn,' Hewitt smiles. 'But what started off as [my father's] retirement project with apple juice, is now 30 acres of orchards and 7,000 trees.'
There's an 'Apple Barn' shop selling coffee and cake, with shelves lined with their premium ciders and juices. In the shed where the fruit is pressed, an 'apple bar' serves visitors and Hewitt's wife Alison tells me about blossom walks, apple harvest celebrations, demonstrations – and even a good old wassail in January.
'I think people find orchards really mindful,' she says. 'I do too; I've got a finance background and it became really clear that it doesn't pay to have an orchard just supplying fruit. That's why they're getting ripped out everywhere.
'So to be masters of the whole supply chain from the trees in the ground right the way through the product in the glass is really special, and we love to share that with people.'
Chris agrees: 'You have to diversify. The government grants for small producers aren't readily available, and it's always felt like we've had to look after ourselves. That's why we love getting people here to see what we're doing – but the hand-picked apples from the orchard are always at the heart of everything.'
So Dunham Apples are either a beautiful exception to the decline in orcharding or a reminder of just how hard you have to work to keep an orchard running as a business. Probably a bit of both, in reality.
While Chris and Alison Hewitt are rightly proud of their varieties, there is also a wider concern that the dramatic decline in orchards, coupled with the narrowing of choice in supermarkets, will ultimately lead to the loss of traditional varieties. That's certainly one reason the National Trust at Cotehele in Cornwall developed its own Mother Orchard.
'There has always been a tradition of orchards in the Tamar valley,' says head gardener David Bouch, 'which built into a significant collection of apples here. So we worked with a local couple who spent literally a lifetime gathering together varieties thought to be lost or endangered, and set about securing some land to plant an orchard; we have about 125 varieties now.
They include the Cornish Honeypinnick, Limberlimb, Pig's Nose and Lemon Pippin. The National Trust was still propagating in 2006 and, even though, as Bouch admits, it's a 'relatively early orchard,' what they've already achieved is hugely important.
'We actually select a number of historic varieties which people can then come and graft on to a rootstock so they can take away their own apple tree,' he says.
They also hold blossom walks, apple tastings, pressing demos and wassailing at Cotehele. But it's the conversations that arise at these events that really tell Bouch his work matters.
'It's surprising how many people reminisce about orchards in their villages, on the edges of their estates, or in areas they remember growing up. There is certainly recognition of orchards being lost, and why they're such magical places.
'Yes, the apples in September are amazing, but actually that's such a small part of the point of an orchard. You see people slow down when they come here; they're looking at the apple trees but also the richness of habitats and the diversity of fruits. You can't just measure an orchard by the two tons of apples you might get in the autumn. There's a social and environmental impact to them too.'
Which brings us back to the original work of the People's Trust for Endangered Species, who have been sounding the alarm on traditional orchard decline for 20 years. Steve Oram, their orchard biodiversity officer, is now building a project called 100 Orchards, aiming to bring landowners together in clusters to conserve orchards on the brink of disrepair – or worse, at risk of being ripped out altogether.
'It's early days, but if we are able to get these orchards productive with wide varieties of fruit, then if they're managed together and bring in local volunteers and expertise, there could be a way forward for orchards that doesn't rely on a single farmer grappling with a financially difficult situation.'
Which, of course, means the biodiversity is also retained.
'Yes, and these places that people have often been walking through and enjoying for hundreds of years will remain,' he says.
'Obviously at PTES it's the loss of habitats we focus on in particular, but it's the whole intangible culture that goes with orcharding that we really want to see maintained.'