your much honoured letter of November 11, 1895. I shall despatch
to-morrow thirty boxes, twelve of which contain the finest of all the
aureas, the Monte Coromee form, and eighteen cases contain the grand
Sanderiana type, all collected from the spot where these grow mixed,
and I shall clear them all out. They are now nearly extinguished in
this spot, and this will surely be the last season. I have finished
all along the Rio Dagua, where there are no plants left; the last
days I remained in that spot the people brought in two or three
plants a day and some came back without a single plant. I left my boy
with the Senor Altados to explore while I despatched the boxes and
get funds, when I shall return for the var. papilio which Altados
promised to secure for me, and go on up to the spot called the Parama
San Sausa. In the boxes containing the aureas you will find about 300
seedlings which have not flowered; these are from a grove of trees
where no plants have previously been gathered from, and where the
finest Sanderianas and aureas grow intermingled in one family. These
Cattleyas only flower once in a year--that is, from March to the end
of July, and both kinds together. Some of the flowers measure upwards
of 10 inches--and on a spike you can have nine flowers. I cannot wait
in that fearful region longer than the flowering time; the awfully
wild aspect of everything and scarcity of wholesome food and help
for the work is simply maddening. If I shall find the other orchids
you want I do not know. My boy is gone with Altados for the Oncidium.
You may believe me that many more of these fine Cattleyas do not
exist, and I can, after all, perhaps not find so good as may be in
those you will now receive.
In the last years I have seen these plants in bloom, when I was so
ill with fever, and in no other place can you get such a fine type.
The plants that I planted when I was taken ill no one found; no one
has been here, and the plants had grown well and some of them very
much rooted.
Trusting that all will arrive in good order, I remain, gentlemen,
your very obedient servant,
CARL JOHANNSEN.
CATTLEYA MENDELII
The next division is styled the Mendelii house; more than three hundred
large examples of this species--to be accurate and pedantic, it should be
called a variety--occupy the centre, a hundred and eighty the stand to
right.
Cattleya Mendelii lives in the neighbourhood of Ocana, New Granada, at an
altitude of 3500 feet. It was introduced by Messrs. Backhouse in 1870, and
named in honour of Mr. Sam Mendel, a great personage at Manchester in his
day. Distinctions of colour are very frequent. Some pronounce it the
loveliest of Cattleyas.
Among the noble specimens here, many of them chosen for individual
peculiarities, not half a dozen are named; the rest bear only letters
showing their class, and certain marks understood by the initiated. It
will be a relief when this system, or something like it, becomes general.
And the time is not distant; at least, the privilege of granting new names
at will must be restricted among those who obey the authorities.
The few plants here which enjoy a special designation are:--
_Monica Measures._--Petals rose, with a broad streak of purple down the
centre from base to point. Sepals also rose, tipped with purple. Lip of
darkest crimson, fringed.
_Lily Measures._--A very large flower, white of sepal and petal. On the
lip, somewhat pale, as if to show it off, is a splash of purple-crimson,
sharply defined.
_R. H. Measures._--Sepals and petals tinted with rose. Enormous lip, very
dark crimson, fringed.
_William Lloyd._--For this I can only repeat the last description, yet the
eye perceives a difference not inconsiderable.
_Mrs. R. H. Measures._--All white saving the yellow throat and two small
touches of purple in the front.
_Duke of Marlborough._--This variety moved the great Reichenbach, as he
said, to 'religious admiration.' No doubt it is the grandest of all
Mendeliis--which is much to say; very large, perfectly graceful in form,
exquisitely frilled. The colour of sepal and petal pink, the throat
yellow, the spreading disc magenta-crimson.
The left side of the house is filled with large plants--some two
hundred--of Cattleya Schroderae, which the learned recognise as a variety
of Cattleya Trianae. It has the great advantage, however, of flowering in
April, and thus, when discovered in 1884 by Arnold, collecting for Messrs.
Sander, it filled a gap in the succession of Cattleyas. Henceforward the
careful amateur might have one variety at least in bloom the year round.
Named of course after Baroness Schroeder. All Cattleyas are scented more or
less at certain times of the day, but none so strongly as this, nor so
persistently.
It does not vary so much as most of its kin, but it shows perhaps a
greater tendency to albinism than any--as seems natural when its colours
are so much paler. Among these grand plants we have three white, notably--
_Miss Mary Measures_, of which the picture is given.
Overhead hang smaller plants of Cattleya Mossiae, Trianae, Mendelii, and
Laelia Lucasiana; among them no less than five Cattleya speciosissima
alba.
Speciosissima Dawsonii is here also, finest of the coloured
varieties--purplish rose of sepal and petal, lip large, yellow in the
upper part, rosy crimson below, with margin finely fringed; and
Laelia pumila marginata.--In its ordinary form L. pumila is one of the
loveliest flowers that blow, and admiration is enhanced by surprise when
we observe how small and slender is the plant that bears such a handsome
bloom. But this rare variety is lovelier still--its broad, rosy-crimson
sepals and petals and its superb crimson lip all outlined with white.
CATTLEYA BOWRINGIANA
The third division of the Cattleya house contains, in the centre, some
hundreds of Mendeliis; Cattleya Bowringiana on the right hand, Cattleyas
Mossiae and Wageneri on the left; all 'specimen' plants, for health and
vigour as for size.
Cattleya Bowringiana was imported fifteen years ago from British Honduras,
but it has since been found in other parts of Central America. In
colour--rosy purple, with deep purple lip, white in the throat--it does
not vary much, nor in shape; at least I have not heard of any named
varieties. But Cattleya Bowringiana in good health is always a cheering
spectacle; its young growths push with such a demonstration of
sturdiness--having to rise much beyond the ordinary stature--and its bunch
of eight or ten flowers stands so high above the foliage. Nowhere may that
pleasant spectacle be enjoyed with more satisfaction than at Woodlands.
CATTLEYA MOSSIAE
Since Cattleya Mossiae was introduced more than two generations ago, and
remains perhaps the commonest of the species, I need not describe it. Mrs.
Moss of Ottersfoot, by Liverpool, conferred the name in 1856. Love of
orchids is a heritage in that family--so is the love of rowing. The lady's
grandson, Sir J. Edwardes Moss, now living, was Stroke of the O.U.B.C. and
at Eton, as were his father and his uncle. And the ancestral collection of
orchids is still maintained.
White Mossiaes are not uncommon, though their exquisite beauty makes them
precious in all meanings of the term.
_Mrs. R. H. Measures_ is best of all--a famous variety--white of sepal and
petal. Deep and graceful frilling on the lip is always characteristic of
this species; it reaches absolute perfection here. The yellow of the
throat is much subdued, but purple lines issuing from it spread over all
the white lip, with a very curious effect. Purple also is the frilling.
_Grandiflora._--Deep rose. Petals very broad, lip immense, finely mottled
and veined with purple.
_Excelsior._--Blush-rose. Lip rosy purple, with a white margin.
_Gilbert Measures._--A superb variety. White with a faint flush. Sepals
and petals unusually solid. Lip very widespread, with purple lines and
splashes of magenta-purple.
_Gigantea._--Biggest of all. Rosy pink. The orange of the enormous lip and
the frilling specially fine.
Catt. Wageneri, though granted a specific title, is a variety of Cattleya
Mossiae, from Caracas, discovered by Wagener in 1851; white, excepting a
yellow blotch on the lip.
From the roof, among a hundred smaller plants of Cattleya, hangs a
specimen of Laelia praestans alba, as rare as lovely--all purest white,
except the lip of brilliant purple with yellow throat. Like many other
orchids from the high lands of Brazil, this will grow equally well in the
cool house. It is, in truth, a variety of L. pumila; its normal colour
rosy purple.
CATTLEYA GASKELLIANA
The fourth compartment is given up to Cattleya Gaskelliana, a species from
Venezuela, not showy, as a rule--though striking exceptions can be found,
as here--but always useful. Like Cattleya Schroderae it filled a gap when
discovered in 1883, for there was no species at the time which flowered in
July. Its normal colour is mauve; the lip has a big yellow blotch and a
mottling of purple in the front.
About four hundred plants are accommodated in this house, among them four
albinos--one with eight pseudo-bulbs and two flowering growths. But the
finest flower is
_Miss Clara Measures._--snowy white, of course, but with a lip like
Cattleya Mossiae. Among others notable are:--
_Dellensis._--A noble variety. Mauve-pink--the petals immensely broad. The
great spreading lip has a gamboge throat fading to chrome-yellow,
intersected with lines of bright crimson. The crimson of the front is
defined as sharply as if by the stroke of a paint-brush.
_Godseffiana._--Pale rosy mauve. Petals immense. Lip a curious dusky
crimson, with a narrow dusky-yellowish outline.
_Duke of Marlborough._--Gigantic. Sepals and petals bright rose; the broad
lip has the same dusky outline.
_Measuresiana._--Very pale. The crimson of the lip, which is long but
comparatively narrow, runs far up the throat, but leaving two clear yellow
'eyes' as distinct as in Cattleya gigas.
_Sanderiana._--Pale. The lip, of excellent colour, spreads so suddenly as
to form a perfect circle.
_Herbertiana._--Mauve. A very compact flower. The bright yellow of the
throat extends downwards and to either side of the lip in a very
remarkable manner. The dusky margin surrounds a purple-crimson stain,
scored with lines of deeper hue.
_Woodlandsensis._--Here the same oddity--due to natural hybridisation
doubtless--is carried much further. The whole disc of the lip is buff,
with only the merest touch of purple on either side the central line, and
another, scarcely perceptible, at the tip.
Along the roof hang small plants of Cattleya gigas and others.
FIFTH DIVISION
The fifth division is a resting-place, where one may sit beneath a grand
specimen of Kentia Forsteri, surrounded by palms as in a nook of the
jungle, to compare notes and talk of orchids. After such refreshment we
enter the last compartment.
CATTLEYA TRIANAE
To left here are more Mendeliis, to right more Bowringianas, labiatas, and
Trianaes mixed; rows of labiata overhead. Specimen Trianaes occupy the
centre--some two hundred.
This again is a species so old and so familiar that I need not describe
it. But there is none more variable, and we have some of the most striking
diversities here.
_Macfarlanei._--An immense flower, white, with the faintest possible
flush. The great lip, vivid orange beneath the tube, changes to white
above the disc. To this succeeds a blaze of purple-crimson, outlined in
two semicircles as clear as brush could draw.
[Illustration: CATTLEYA TRIANAE, VAR. MEASURESIAE.]
_Robert Measures._--Lively mauve. The broad petals have three purple lines
at the base and a mottling of purple on either side. Lip not large but of
the grandest crimson, darker towards the throat.
_Measuresiana._--Petals clear mauve, sepals a paler hue, lip very compact.
Its carmine rises far up the throat, surrounding the yellow and white
'eyes' with the happiest effect.
_Woodlandsensis._--Sepals and petals lilac flushed. The great lip
beautifully striped with rosy magenta.
_Tyrianthina_ takes its name from the Tyrian purple or wine-coloured tips
of the petals--a singular development. The labellum shows the same tint,
even darker.
Here also I note Catt. Harrisoniae _R. H. Measures_. It cannot be said
that this differs from the normal type in any respect; but one may venture
to assert that it is the finest example thereof--at least, a finer could
not be. Upon the mauve sepals and petals, much larger than usual and more
lively in colour, the great labellum, primrose and gamboge, with mauve
tip, stands out superbly. There is no more striking Cattleya than
Harrisoniae in this form.
A STORY OF CATTELEYA BOWRINGIANA
No tale hangs upon the discovery of Cattleya Bowringiana, so far as I have
heard. A planter named Turkheim sent it from British Honduras to Mr.
Bowring of Forest Farm, Windsor, in 1884. The species has a wide range.
Mr. Oversluys came upon it in Guatemala very shortly afterwards, and
curious incidents followed.
This admirable collector was hunting for Oncidium splendidum, a stately
flower not very uncommon once, but long extinct in Europe. No man knew its
home, but Mr. Sander, after close inquiry and profound deliberation,
resolved that it must be a native of Costa Rica. Thither he despatched Mr.
Oversluys, who roamed the wilderness up and down five years, seeking a
prize within his grasp all the time, so conspicuous that it escaped
notice--as sharp boys select the biggest names upon a map instead of the
smallest, to puzzle a comrade. But that is another story.
Irritated and despairing as time went by, but not permitted to abandon the
search, the collector found diversion now and again in a gallop through
the neighbouring States. And once he pushed as far as Guatemala. All these
forays were profitable, of course; such a shrewd and experienced hunter
finds game in every forest. But Mr. Oversluys was not equipped for the
wholesale business, as one may put it, on these expeditions. They were
reconnaissances. In Guatemala, at the moment which interests us, he had
only two servants and three mules.
I do not know exactly where he came across Cattleya Bowringiana; it might
be anywhere almost, apparently, in the Central American Republics. The
species was rare and very precious at the time--to be secured, though in
the smallest quantity. When Oversluys came upon it, he threw away the
miscellaneous rarities he had collected, hired two more mules--all he
could obtain--loaded as many as they could carry of the very finest
plants, specimens such as we dare not dream of now, and started for the
nearest port, meaning to return for more so soon as he was 'shut of your
confounded Oncidium splendidum.' In such disrespectful terms he wrote to
St. Albans.
At the house where Oversluys slept one night was a boisterous young
Guatemalan, one of the tippling, guitar-strumming, all-round-love-making
sort so common in Spanish America. But this youth was an Indian or
almost--betrayed by his lank hair and narrow shining eyes. Such a
character would seem impossible for one of that blood beyond the confines
of Guatemala. But the supremacy of the Indians under Rafael Carrera's
despotism has worked a change there. It lasted long enough to train a
portentous generation. When a pig-driver of their race conquered and ruled
the descendants of the Conquerors as absolutely as a Turkish bashaw of
old, Indians might well abandon the timid subservience of their
forefathers.
This young fellow insisted upon playing cards with Oversluys, who
declined. Then he began to quarrel. But a good-looking daughter of the
landlord intervened, and he promptly struck the light guitar. After supper
he felt the warmest friendship for Oversluys, and dropped off to sleep
while babbling a serenade to the landlord's daughter.
The friendship had not evaporated next morning. Don Hilario--he allowed
himself the title and a most aristocratic surname--was returning to his
native village, through which Oversluys must pass; there to remain, as he
admitted cheerfully, until his friends at the capital had suppressed
certain proceedings at law. These friends, it appeared, were dames of high
position, and the proceedings related to a serious deficiency in his
accounts as clerk in the Financial Department. But it was all great fun.
Don Hilario could not think of his appearance in the dock without peals of
laughter. No apprehension marred his enjoyment. Those great personages
named, of the female sex, would take very good care he was not
prosecuted--or they had best look out. In short, we recognise the type of
a cynical half-caste Don Juan.
As they journeyed on together, Don Hilario noticed the orchids, which were
simply slung across the mules. He knew, of course, that such weeds are
valued in Europe; every child in those realms is familiar with collectors
nowadays. 'Ah!' said he, 'those are poor things compared with the great
bushes on the roof of our church.'
Oversluys was roused at once. Since Roezl made the discovery, fifteen
years before, every one had come to know that rarities may be expected on
an Indian church. The pious aborigines collect any orchid of exceptional
beauty which they notice in the woods and carefully replant it on the
sacred building. It was the custom of their heathen forefathers.
'Are there any white ones among them?' Oversluys asked. An albino form of
Cattleya Bowringiana had never been heard of, but he thought it might
exist. And if so the roof of an Indian church would be the place to look
for such a treasure.
'As many white as red! I say, what will you give for a dozen?'
This was a difficult question under any circumstances, since the plants
could hardly be flowering then; and there is no difference in growth
betwixt the white varieties and the red. Besides, Oversluys had not the
very slightest confidence in this youth.
'How will you get them?' he asked.
'Never mind that. Pay me half the money down and I'll bring the plants
to-morrow. You know, our Indians are suspicious of collectors. You mustn't
be seen in the village.'
That was reasonable enough in one point of view, but preposterous in the
other. 'Oh,' said Oversluys, 'I must see the orchids at any risk--that's
flat! and I must hear how you mean to work.'
'Why?'
'Because if you take them without the Padre's consent you know as well as
I that the Indians will be after me at daylight, and--h'm! There would be
work for the doctor! What sort of man is your Padre?'
'A sort of pig, of course,' laughed Don Hilario. 'A fat old boar, ready
for the knife. And my knife is ready, too! Patience, friend, patience!'
His eyes still laughed, but he made the significant gesture so common in
those lands--a sudden stealthy grip of the machete at his waist.
This was not an unimportant revelation. 'You are on bad terms with the
Cura?' Oversluys asked.
'Not now. He thinks I have forgotten. It's years ago. I was a boy. But the
Castilian never forgets! I will tell you.'
The story was not edifying. It related to a young woman in whom the Cura
felt interest. He surprised her in company with Don Hilario and beat the
lad.
'Well,' said Oversluys, 'I'm sorry you and the Padre are not friends,
because I will have nothing to do with removing orchids from the church
unless he bears part in it.'
'But the pig will want all the money.'
'You need not tell him how much I am to give you.'
Don Hilario argued, however, until, finding Oversluys immovable, he grew
sulky. The fact is that to strip their church against the Indians' wish
would be not a little perilous even though the Cura were implicated; to
ignore him would be madness. Collectors have risked it, they say, before
and since, but never assuredly unless quite certain that the prize was
worth a deadly hazard. In this instance there was no security at all.
As they approached the village Don Hilario brightened up. 'Well,' he said,
'what will you give me?'
Oversluys had no money, but he offered a sum--the amount of which I have
not heard--payable in Guatemala city; to be doubled if the orchids should
prove white. Don Hilario declined this proposal with oaths; he dared not
go to Guatemala city, and he could not trust a friend. The negotiations
came to an end. Grumbling and swearing he rode for a while by himself;
then fell into silence, and presently rejoined Oversluys quite cheerful.
The houses were close by.
'It's a bargain, friend,' he said. 'Your hand! It's a bargain!'
'Good! Now I won't take my mules with the orchids into the village. Can
you lead us round to the other side? There is a hut there, I daresay,
where I can leave my men and return with you.'
Don Hilario declared that such precautions were unnecessary, but when
Oversluys insisted he led the way through by-paths. They did not meet a
soul. Upon the edge of a broad savannah beyond was a corral, or enclosure,
and a shed, used by the _vaqueros_ for slaughtering, branding, and so
forth in the season, empty now. Hundreds of cattle browsed slowly towards
the corral, for evening approached and the woods were full of jaguars
doubtless. Though unwatched at this time of year, they took refuge nightly
in the enclosure. It was just such a spot as Oversluys sought. His men had
food, and he told them to remain with the animals. Then he returned with
Don Hilario.
It is usual to ask the Cura for lodgings in a strange place; he himself
puts up a traveller who can pay. This was a rotund and masterful priest.
They found him alighting from his mule, with soutane rolled up to the
waist, showing a prodigious breadth of pea-green trousers. He wore a
triple string of blue beads round his neck, and flourished a whip of
cowhide.
Oversluys looked like a traveller who could pay, and he received a
greeting as warm as foreigner can expect; a foreigner in those lands is
presumed to be no 'Christian.' They entered the parsonage. Don Hilario was
to broach the business, but first Oversluys would satisfy himself that the
orchids were worth negotiation. He slipped away.
A glance settled that. The church was a low building of mud, as usual. On
either side the doorway, looking down the street, stood an ancient idol,
buried to the waist, but still five feet high. The features were battered,
but the round eyes, with pupils cut deep in a half circle, glared in
hideous threat, and the mouth gaped for blood; no need of an interpreter
there--one saw and felt the purpose. But Oversluys was not interested in
these familiar objects. He looked up. His comrade had not exaggerated the
size of the orchids, at least. They were noble specimens. But as for their
colour he could see no trace to guide him.
Don Hilario had gone to greet his parents; it was comparatively late when
he returned, but then he got to business forthwith. The Cura was startled.
He showed no indignation, but after pondering declined. Before going
further, Oversluys asked whether the orchids were white? Impatiently the
Cura replied that he never looked at them--very likely they were. People
decked the church with white flowers, and perhaps they got them from the
roof. He had other things to think about.
Oversluys guessed that the man was eager to sell but afraid, and fretful
accordingly. He raised his price, whilst Don Hilario taunted the Cura with
fearing his parishioners. That decided him. Loudly he declared that the
church was his own, and consented.
The deed must be done that night. But who would climb the church roof in
the dark? Don Hilario was prepared for that difficulty. He knew half a
dozen fellows of his own age and stamp who would enjoy the mischief. And
he went to collect them.
It was long past midnight when the band appeared--a set of lively young
ruffians. So vivacious were they, in fact, though not noisy, and so
disrespectful to their pastor as they drank a glass for luck, standing
round the board, that Oversluys thought it well to prepare for a 'row.' He
slipped out, saddled his mule and tied it by the door.
Then the young Indians filed off in high spirits, chuckling low and
nudging one another. The Cura followed to the door, commended them to
heaven and stopped. Don Hilario would not have that--he must take his
share of the enterprise. The others returned and remonstrated warmly. In
short, there was such hubbub, though all in low tones, that Oversluys grew
more and more alarmed. The Cura gave way savagely, however, and they
started again; but Oversluys kept well behind, leading his mule. It was a
dark night, though not dark as in a northern climate. He could follow the
little group with his eyes, a blurred mass stealing over the plaza. The
church itself was faintly visible a hundred yards away. All remained still
and silent. He advanced.